Archive of Our Own

Isha remembers her parents in flashes and smells. Patchouli oils, high-pitched shrieking giggles that have only just started to make a reappearance. She can’t recall their faces, only their hands, nimble fingers, patiently drawing words in the air, her own baby hands mirroring them. She’s 7 now. It’s been 4 years since she was on her own. Roughly 4 months since she met—

“NO!”

Her miner's hat gets knocked off in her haste, little hands, fingers nimble as ever, fumbling with the bag of gemstones at her hip. Vander is a beast. There’s no other words to describe him. So different from the big ol’ teddy bear, kid, I promise whose claws had traced her twin tails, uncertain eyes darting between Isha and—

“ISHA!”

She looks back. Can’t help it. Jinx looks terrified, and it’s a look Isha has never wanted to see on her face. Because of that, she falls back on her most trusted form of communication, lips curling into a smile, fingers curling into a gun. 

A farewell. A thank you. An I love you. 

Vi is there, arms wrapped around Jinx even as she screams and thrashes, and Isha draws her gaze away, staring up instead at Vander—Jinx’s dad. Isha raises her arms, pulls the trigger, and gives herself over. 

She doesn’t expect to wake up, and when she does, it’s violent and jerky, like bolting out of a nightmare. Only this time, as her shoulders tremble and her chest heaves, there’s no arms to wrap herself up in. There are no braids to fiddle with. There is no gentle palm on the back of Isha’s head. 

She feels, quite suddenly, rather babyish as she whips her head around the alley she’s materialized in. It’s familiar, but also not. Too clean. Too… fresh. Even worse, she doesn’t have her hat, and that makes her feel exposed. 

She needs to go home. 

Her feet are moving before her brain has even made the decision to, stumbling slightly as she picks up momentum, eyes whipping around, trying to find comfort in these eerie surroundings. 

There are people all over, and like the rest of this strange world they are too clean, too fresh, too foreign. 

It’s a relief when she realizes she’s close, and she picks up speed, breaths coming in short uneven bursts, spurred by adrenaline, nerves, and a desperate ache to be held. She trips once or twice, but she couldn’t care less, a disbelieving smile slowly crawling across her face as she finally, finally, comes to the hideout. 

*

Powder was not an idiot. Her boy wonder has been off for days, and she’d be a pretty shit girlfriend if she didn’t pick up on that. It started, obviously, with him stumbling away and throwing something at her in Benzo’s shop. It only got weirder, until she had to accept that there was something at play here, something she wasn’t quite privy to yet, something that undoubtedly had to do with whatever insane contraption he’d roped her into helping him and the professor build. She might’ve been anxious if she hadn’t known him so well. He was different, yes, antsier, more apprehensive, but he was still Ekko, even if he was… well, odd at the moment. So, she trusted him. 

Then the kid showed up. 

Heimerdinger was out, and it was just her and Ekko at the blackboard, running through calculations time and time again. The papers on runes were strewn across their workstations, and Powder kept returning to the thickest set, thumbing over the tunic translations. She heard footsteps, then panting, and looked up, meeting Ekko’s raised brow before they both turned to the stairs. Powder blinked.

It was a little girl. No higher than her hip, if she had to guess, wearing dark clothes, shoddily dyed blue hair, dusted over from head to toe, looking like she’d been put through the wringer. 

“Woah, kid,” Powder’s brow furrowed. “How’d you get in—” 

She was cut off abruptly by the kid practically leaping down the last three steps, stumbling and scuffing her knee but getting right back up, and barreling right into Powder, nearly bowling her over as her hands came up instinctually. Powder’s eyes blew wide as the kid began to cry and looked to Ekko for help, only for him to look just as confused. Powder opens and closes her mouth, completely lost. Driven by an instinct she didn’t know she possessed, she started to kneel down, and the kid wasted no time in wrapping herself even tighter around her. 

“Woah,” Powder says again, hands smoothing over the girl’s shoulders. “Where’s the fire?” The kid just whines more at that, and Powder swallows, gently pushing the kid away from her torso to try and look her over. The kid goes willingly, pliant to Powder’s touch, but as soon as there’s some distance between them, as soon as Powder’s blue eyes meet teary-golden ones, the kid lurches back. Her eyes grow wide and fearful, trailing over Powder and looking like she’s just seen a ghost. 

Shit, Powder thinks, and looks again, desperately at Ekko. Her anxiety takes a reprieve as soon as she sees that Ekko’s eyes are fixated on the little girl, something like hope and fear warring in his expression. Powder turns back to the girl, who somehow looks even more distressed, eyes flitting all over Powder’s face. Her hands fly up, jerkish motions and sharp punctuations of her fingers. Sign language, Powder realizes distantly, and glances at Ekko. 

Your eyes, Isha tries to ask. What happened to your eyes?

But Jinx isn’t even looking at her. She’s looking off to the side, but Isha is too wound up to follow her gaze. As soon as not-Jinx’s eyes glance away from Isha’s hands, she stills, nearly trembles. 

Why isn’t she listening?

Why blue? She signs desperately. What happened to your pink?

A sharp gasp finally draws Isha’s eyes away from not-Jinx, and when she turns, a new kind of hope rises up in her. 

She recognizes him. 

Ekko feels the blood drain from his face once he gets a good enough look at the kid. It can’t be a coincidence—blue twin tails, the messy blue paint swirled around her arms, barely visible beneath all the dirt she’s covered in—it can’t be a coincidence that this kid looks like she belongs from his world. Can’t be a coincidence that she looks like Jinx. 

His subconscious tugs even harder when the kid meets Powder’s eyes and suddenly lurches away as if burned, eyes fretful and hands flying up, fingers twitching and arranging jerkishly. 

Sign language. He’s familiar. There are one or two older folks around the base that use it, either being born deaf or lost their voices to something or other or just too Undercity to be considered for something like hearing aids. He catches onto the words the kid is saying, and he can’t help but choke like the wind has been punched out of him when realization dawns. 

Why blue? The kid is asking Powder, and that if nothing else solidifies the shaky theory he was already considering. This kid is from home. More than that—she knows Jinx, knows what everyone knows about her coming back from the dead, shimmer making her into something otherworldly. He hasn’t seen them for himself, but he’s heard about the flashing pinks of her eyes, glinting through smoke and smog. In nature, poisonous animals are the most brightly colored. Seems fitting. 

His gasp catches the kids attention, and though he doesn’t have a clue who she is, something like recognition flits across her face. She stumbles over to him, and he drops shakily to his knees. 

“Pink eyes,” he echoes, and tears instantly well in the girl's eyes as she nods desperately. “Holy shit.” 

This, apparently, is all the reassurance she needs, because she all but throws herself at him. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into his lap, and absurdly feels like he might tear up. 

How the fuck did she get here? 

He’s almost ashamed to say he forgets all about Powder, staring dumbfounded a few feet away. The kid shifts, pulls back slightly, and Ekko lets her. With the practiced ease of looking after the Firelight kids on base, his hands do a quick but gentle sweep over her arms, head, and sides, eyes watching intently for any sort of discomfort. The kid all but melts into his touch, nose quivering in that way kids do when they’re trying to catch their breath. 

“Still got all your insides?” He can’t help asking, and is immediately horrified when tears well up in her eyes again. She doesn’t let them reduce her to sobs, though, only squares her shoulders in a defiantly brave way that is so Powder before nodding. Her hands come up again. 

Firelights, she signs, and Ekko’s heart does a funny flip at her next words: Ekko. Safe. 

She’s obviously awaiting a response, so he nods. “Yeah,” he breathes. “That’s me. Wanna tell me who you are?” 

It clicks for Powder, then, watching Ekko understand a language that he shouldn’t know. She looks back over the blackboard, the rune inscriptions, the oddness. She realizes with startling clarity that although this is Ekko, he’s not her Ekko. And this kid, whoever she may be, just might know this version of him better than she does. 

The kid signs something. “Isha?” Ekko asks, eyes carefully following her fingers. “That’s your name?” The kid nods, looking tired suddenly. A beat passes, and before she can second guess herself, Powder clears her throat. Both heads snap towards her, Isha slightly wary, Ekko slightly alarmed, slightly ashamed. Powder manages her most reassuring smile and gives a small wave. 

“Hi, Isha,” she says. “I’m Powder.” The girl’s head snaps toward Ekko, eyes widening. Even more confusing is Ekko’s slight grimace and nod. 

“It’s a long story,” he says, eyes flicking between Isha and Powder, and she tamps down the urge to snort. 

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Powder asks. She has some snacks here, but nothing super substantial. Isha shakes her head, signs something. Powder glances at Ekko. 

“She’s okay,” he says. Powder gnaws on her lip, meeting Ekko’s eye, trying to subtly communicate you’ve got a lot of explaining to do, mister. Judging by the slight wince that Ekko gives in response, he heard her loud and clear. He clears his throat. 

“Hey, Isha, you’re looking a little tired. Do you want to try laying down?” 

The kid stiffens, hands already moving, but Ekko is quick to reassure her. 

“I won’t go anywhere, I promise.” 

She still eyes him warily, and he can’t help the small huff of laughter that escapes him. 

“You know who I am, right?” He asks. “You said I was ‘safe.’”

Isha nods slowly. Jinx said you were a friend, she signs, and Ekko’s heart skips a traitorous beat. She said that if I was lost the Firelights would help. She said I had to ask for Ekko. She said you were safe. 

Ekko’s mouth flaps for a moment. “Is she your mom?” It feels weird to ask. Surely not that much time has passed, right? And even if it had, why wouldn’t she assume Ekko was dead? Why tell her child (?) to find Ekko if she was in trouble?

Isha shrugs. She’s my Jinx, she says. She found me. We take care of each other. 

That’s more digestible, more accustomed to the accidental-child-acquisition nature of Zaun, and he finds himself relaxing. He nods, regaining his bearings. 

“Okay,” he says. “Then you know that I’ll take care of you just like she does, right? So trust me when I say I promise I’ll still be here when you wake up.” 

He counts it as a minor miracle when she relents and lets him tug her towards the couch. Powder materializes over his shoulder, a blanket in hand that she holds out to Isha. The kid takes it stiffly, and Ekko can see Jinx even clearer in her now. He bites back a grin as Isha situates herself, and jabs a thumb over his shoulder. 

“Me and Powder are just gonna be over there, okay?” He asks. Isha nods, more certain than before, and he grins fully. “Alright. Rest up, kid.” 

They don’t even make it three steps before Powder grips his arm and drags him the rest of the way. When they’re far enough out of (relative) earshot, she crosses her arms and raises a brow. 

“Wanna fill me in?” 

And so he does. He never intended to, and he feels almost guilty to admit his version of the past week he’s spent in her company. He apologizes profusely for how he treated her that first day, all the while she sits, mute and still in her chair. 

When he finishes his tale, he swallows tightly, hesitating when she still hasn’t made a sound. “…Powder?”

Her eyes lift to his, wide and vulnerable, and his breath hitches. 

“Vi’s alive in your universe?” She rasps. Ekko grimaces, then nods. Powder sits back, slumping down in her chair. 

“Janna,” she breathes. She looks him up and down, then glances over at Isha, who’s fast asleep on the couch. “And she—”

“Jinx’s,” Ekko says, hating the way Powder flinches. “According to her.” Powder’s gaze drags back over to Ekko, something assessing in her eyes. 

“You believe her,” she deduces. Ekko’s mouth goes dry, and he nods. 

“I do,” he confesses. “She… I can see her in Isha—hell, I can see Powder, kid-Powder, in her. And the blue clouds on her arms, those are Jinx’s tattoos. Her exact tattoos, placement and all.”

Powder raises a brow at that. “Gotten up close and personal with them, have you?” She asks dryly. 

Ekko flushes, memories of their bridge fight flashing through his head. “Not in the way you’re thinking.”

Powder gnaws on her lip. “That’s what we’re trying to build, then, something that’ll take you home.” 

“Yeah,” Ekko nods, eyes looking her over. “You know, you took the whole I’m from another universe thing way better than I thought.”

Powder snorts at that, a weak grin lifting the corners of her mouth. “Please,” she says. “My Ekko and I have been dating since we were 14. You’re not exactly slick.” Ekko ducks his head, grinning wryly even as the tips of his ears heat up. 

“I’m not your Ekko,” he reminds her, teasing slightly. The unspoken his tells aren’t the same as mine ring about the room. 

Powder just shrugs. 

“Doesn’t matter,” she says. “I’d know you in any universe.” 

His face burns at that admission, and perhaps Powder can see it, because she just giggles in that intoxicating way of hers and sweeps past him, standing back in front of the blackboard. 

Isha has no desire to leave Powder’s hideout, which Ekko thinks is for the best, seeing as how she’s basically imprinted on the two of them (more wary of Powder, more willing to sidle up to Ekko’s side. He can’t help but wonder what Jinx has told her about him to instill such faith) and trying to explain her sudden existence to Vander, Claggor, Mylo, and the others isn’t something they’re looking forward to. 

Heimerdinger, on the other hand…

The Yordle comes flouncing down the stairs to the hideout, always buzzing with energy, and Ekko doesn’t even bother to restrain his grin as he remembers the way the professor ‘snuck’ around the vents when they broke into Piltover. He’s chirping away, only to still when he catches sight of little Isha, who has migrated even closer to Ekko, practically glaring from around his leg. Heimerdinger blinks, and his moustache curls up into a grin. 

“Well, hello, little one!” He says. “What brings you by?” The corner of Isha’s lip curls into a sneer, and judging by that and the way her nails start to dig into Ekko’s leg, he figures she’s about 30 seconds away from lunging at the Yordle, teeth bared and all. He lifts a hand and smooths it over Isha’s hair to dissuade her. 

“Isha,” he addresses her first, catching her mistrustful gaze. “This is Heimerdinger. He’s from home.” The girl blinks, mulls this over, and turns her eyes back to Heimerdinger, more assessing than suspicious now. Heimerdinger blinks again, that familiar scientific excitement beginning to light up his eyes. “Heimerdinger, this is Isha… we’re not sure how she got here.” 

These words seem to jolt Heimerdinger out of his stupor, and his head swivels wildly between Ekko and Powder, who snorts. 

“Yeah,” she drawls. “Kid spilled the beans.” Heimerdinger almost deflates, a guilty expression crossing his face. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, Miss Powder,” he tells her sincerely, and she shrugs, lips quirking into a small grin. 

“No sweat, professor,” she says. 

Isha takes to Heimerdinger almost immediately, which doesn’t surprise Ekko, seeing as how easily he won over the Firelight kids (he suspects his knowing basic Sign does wonders in Isha’s mind). Isha certainly seems eager to trail behind the Yordle as he lectures about the runes and what they’re trying to build. Ekko actually has to stifle a laugh when Isha cuts Heimerdinger off during his explanation of a mobius strip to tell him that she’s smarter than she looks and he doesn’t have to talk to her like she’s a baby. Heimerdinger blinks but recovers swiftly. 

Ekko migrates over to the tent where Powder is carving out a series of miniature clapping monkeys. She smiles when he plops down beside her, reaching for a carving of his own. Her eyes glance over at Heimerdinger and Isha, and her lips twist into a grin. 

“Is it weird to say I’m a little jealous that she likes the professor more than me?” 

Ekko snickers. “I wouldn’t take it personally,” he says. “You’re just… well…”

“Not Jinx?” Powder raises a brow. Her hands still on her carving for a moment, and she looks back over at Isha, something more contemplative in her eyes. “I can’t imagine it,” she confesses softly. 

“Which part?”

“You, mostly,” Powder says, and Ekko’s chisel nearly slips out of his grasp.

“Huh?”

“Not having you,” Powder says softly. “The other me must’ve been really lonely all those years.” She chuckles, but it sounds hollow. “And then she somehow ended up with a kid? Hard to believe.” Ekko swallows. 

“I can’t speak for Isha and their relationship,” he says. “But the other you… let’s just say she made it pretty clear she didn’t want anything to do with me.” It’s an old hurt, one that hasn’t brought a lump to his throat in years, but it’s more tangible here, more prevalent in Powder’s presence. Almost cruel. 

He remembers finding her after that night clear as day. He’d finally tracked her down outside the Last Drop, followed her back here, back to her hideout. Tried to bring her home with him.

I’m here to rescue you!

She’d slapped him clean across the face. 

He didn’t go back for her again. 

A hand closes around his, smaller, colder, and he can’t help but flinch a little. Powder takes it in stride. He doesn’t want to look at her, somehow knows that she’ll disagree, doesn’t want to open that can of worms, to break his ribs and hold out his heart to her all over again. He clears his throat instead and goes back to carving. 

The more time he spends with Isha, the more he sees Powder in her. Even worse (better), the more he sees Jinx. It’s only a matter of days before the line begins to blur in his head. 

Isha is just as creative, clever, and antsy as both he and Jinx/Powder were at that age, tinkering with whatever scraps Ekko, Powder, and Heimerdinger can scrounge up for her. She diligently sits through all of their lectures, is a whiz with a soldering iron, and warms up to Powder when she allows Isha a few blank canvases for her to go crazy. 

She sticks her tongue out the side of the corner of her mouth when she’s concentrating, and though it’s a look he’s seen on Powder, this one and his from childhood, dozens of times, he nearly drops the wrench he’s holding when he thinks of Jinx. He can see her so clearly in his mind’s eye, the way he’d caught her tongue poking out when reconfiguring a bomb in the middle of a fight. 

She’s so particular, too. So insistent to not be treated like a kid , but Janna is she a shit liar when she’s actively trying to deceive Ekko. She clasps her hands behind her back and sways from side to side as she walks, and when she puts a little more effort into her stalk, eyes downcast to stagger her footsteps, one after the other, Ekko’s breath catches. 

Isha reminds him so much of Powder, but it’s her look, her painted on tattoos, her dusty blue hair and twin tails, that makes it impossible for him to look at her and not see Jinx. It begged the question; maybe Powder wasn’t as dead and gone as he’d desperately been thinking all these years. That thought strikes him as melancholic and he stands, stretching his arms over his head and popping his joints. Powder and Heimerdinger were both out so he meandered over to Isha, cosily set up under the tent, cross legged with an easel before her. 

He whistles to catch her attention. She looks up, smiling as he sits beside her, and shows off her easel to him. His chest stutters for a moment when he sees that she’s doodled Jinx, over and over again. Smiling, braids swinging, even one of her standing behind Isha and covering her eyes. Isha glances up at Ekko. He smiles down at her.

“She looks great, kid,” he says softly, and Isha beams. She reaches out a timid hand and traces a finger over one of Jinx’s braids, smile dimming slightly.

I miss her, she says. Ekko swallows. He thinks about Jinx, thinks about Powder. 

“Me too,” he murmurs. Isha hums and leans into him. She’s so tactile. He wouldn’t have expected it from a kid who’s been apparently running around with Jinx for 4 months, but kid-Powder was always leaning into touch when they were younger, practically sinking into Vi or Vander’s hands whenever one of them would cup her face. Even during their sleepovers, she would sprawl across Ekko, and he’d woken up to her hair in his mouth more than once. 

He remembers what Powder said the other day; ‘the other me must’ve been really lonely.’

He wraps an arm around Isha, marvelling not for the first time at just how small she is as she nuzzles even closer into him. 

“What do you think about getting out of here for a few hours?” 

They leave Powder and Heimerdinger a note and set off. Isha starts off holding his hand as they move through the crowds of people, but once they get into the vents, into the more deserted areas, areas Ekko knows like the back of his hand, she slips ahead of him, skipping to and fro, never straying too far from his line of sight. She even looks back every few paces, like she’s making sure he’s still there. His bag clunks against his leg as they walk, and soon enough, he calls her back to his side. He swings her up onto his hip. 

“Close your eyes,” he tells her. She levels him an unimpressed look that he laughs at. “C’mon, Ish. Don’t you trust me?” She huffs in a way that makes it evident she thinks he’s being ridiculous but acquiesces, covering her eyes with her hands while he walks the short rest of the way. When the sunlight falls across his face, he smiles and sets Isha back down, positioning her just so. When he tells her to look, her jaw drops, a soft gasp echoing through the underground. 

Her eyes volley back towards him, asking a silent question.

“Yeah,” he says, grinning. “That’s a real tree.” Her eyes widen and she looks back between him and the tree and the mural he did of Vi. He laughs at the expression on her face and waves his hand. “Go crazy.” 

An almost manic grin splits her face (all Jinx, he can’t help but reflect) as she darts forward, feet kicking up as she runs and explores. She loves the lily pads, and palms the trunk of the tree, marvelling at the feeling of the bark, kicks around and stomps in some of the leaves, and stares up at Vi. Ekko walks to stand beside her on the small platform. She looks up at him questioningly. 

“This is my home, back in our world,” he tells her. “The Firelight base. We have a mural just like this one back home, of people we’ve lost, people we miss.” He sets down his bag and unzips it, Isha immediately leaning over to peek inside as he withdraws a can of spray paint. Her eyes light up with a happy gasp when he flips it in his hand and grins down at her. 

“There’s some free space around the other side,” he says. “What do you say we throw Jinx up there?”  

Her response is to launch herself at him, squealing while he laughs. 

It’s a few hours later when he hears footsteps and turns. Powder is walking up to him, hands gently clasped behind her back and a soft smile on her lips. She whistles lowly, eyes rolling over the nearly finished mural of Jinx. 

“Where’s the kid?” she asks. Ekko nods his head towards a secluded patch of shade. Isha is passed out on top of Ekko’s blazer like it’s a picnic blanket. Powder coos as she sidles up beside him. “So this is the notorious Jinx,” she says softly. Ekko swallows, feeling unexpectedly vulnerable as Powder takes in the image of her alternate self. To try and assuage this, he returns his focus to the task at hand, finishing up the third and final portrait he and Isha agreed on. He glances back down at Isha’s doodles, which he’d snapped a polaroid of before they left. They finished the first two together, Isha’s own artistic flair evident in the slightly abstract and neon colors that accented Jinx’s eyes and hair. She conked out somewhere halfway through the third, which showcased her and Isha, with Jinx’s hands covering her eyes. 

Powder hums as he’s putting the finishing touches on Jinx’s smile. “You love her, don’t you?” 

He startles, glancing quickly over his shoulder at her. “What?”

“C’mon Ekko,” Powder snorts. “You forget I know you.” He swallows. 

“I don’t,” he says instantly. Reflexively. Powder only rolls her eyes, and he flushes. “I…” he trails off, swallowing again. Looks away from Powder. Looks away from the mural. His eyes fall on Isha. When he speaks again, it’s almost a whisper. “I shouldn’t.” 

“When has love ever cared about ‘should’ or ‘should not’?” 

Ekko huffs a laugh, looking over his shoulder at Powder wryly. “When’d you get so wise?” She just grins.

“Hey, you don’t spend 5 years dating, well, you and not come out with something to show for it,” she teases when he flushes. 

He carries a still-sleeping Isha back to the hideout that evening. 

They manage the device three days later. It’s a blast of steam, a blinding light, and Isha, who the three of them had unanimously banished to tent in case of an explosion, comes running out just as Powder flips the power back off. Heimerdinger catches Isha by the arm just as the light starts to fade, and Ekko lowers the arm he’d raised to shield his eyes, squinting at the tiny anomaly that they’ve managed to create. 

“It’s so small,” Ekko wonders. With the perceived danger out of the way, Heimerdinger lets Isha sidle up beside Ekko, squinting on her tip toes to get a glimpse. Ekko ruffles her hair reflexively, and bites back a grin when she scowls. 

“Golly, we’ve done it,” Heimerdinger breathes. Ekko surveys the tiny anomaly again.

“Halfway there,” he agrees. He nudges Isha’s arm in dismissal and though she pouts, she steps back until she’s standing beside Powder in her pink chair. Glancing back and making sure she’s a fair ways away (Jinx would kill him if anything happened to her kid on his watch), he reaches for the chain and gives it a pull. Might as well see what we’ve managed. 

There’s a small burst of energy, and Heimerdinger drops his wrench, startled. Powder and Isha exchange the same unimpressed brow, Powder leaning back and Isha with her arms crossed.

“So, what does it do?” Powder asks. 

Good question, Ekko thinks.

“Uh…” with little else to do, he reaches and pulls the chain again. 

Another burst of energy. Heimerdinger drops the wrench. 

“So, what does it do?” Powder asks. 

“You just asked me that,” Ekko says over his shoulder, feeling dejected. He hoped for something a little more exciting, seeing as they just reinvented a Hextech anomaly from scratch, but progress is progress, isn’t it? And isn’t being a scientist learning to take your punches? 

Then Powder frowns. “No, I didn’t.” 

Ekko huffs. “I’m too tired for games.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Heimerdinger reaching for his discarded wrench, and frustrated now, feeling that if he fails this he’s not only failing himself but also Isha, he pulls the chain a third time. 

Another burst of energy.

“No, I didn’t,” Powder repeats, and Ekko looks over his shoulder, eyes falling open when he catches Heimerdinger reaching again for his discarded wrench. His reaction makes Isha cock her head to the side, but Ekko is already turning back to the device—the Z-Drive—with a look of awe.

“It’s a time loop!”

Isha is at his side immediately. Hands flying. 

A time loop? She asks. Ekko pulls the chain, and with the familiar burst of energy, he finally puts a name to it—

Rewind. 

Isha is at his side immediately. As she’s raising her hands, Ekko turns and mimics the sign, grinning. 

“A time loop,” he nods. 

Powder exhales, a wondrous, impressed thing, sitting back in her chair as Heimerdinger skips past her to the blackboard. 

“You’re going back in time.”

“Gadzooks. How did you stumble upon that?” Heimerdinger asks, hopping up onto his stool. Ekko crosses the space in a few easy strides and traces out the runic equations. Isha stays with the Z-Drive, too short to pull the chain (thank Janna for small mercies, Ekko thinks) but taps happily at the device like it’s a fishtank.

“I was playing with inversions on Jayce’s acceleration rune,” Ekko says, picking up a piece of chalk and circling the run in question. 

“How far did you go?” Heimerdinger asks eagerly. 

“I don’t know,” Ekko says. “A second?” 

“Try going back further,” Powder urges. Isha skips over to her side, nodding encouragingly, her eyes alight with curiosity and wonder. 

Ekko sets his stopwatch, gives Isha a stern look to stay beside Powder, and pulls the chain. 

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

A shout. Heimerdinger. Ekko turns just in time to see the Yordle’s head literally explode. He sees Isha open her mouth to scream and yanks at the chain like it’s the last thing keeping him afloat. 

Rewind. 

Ekko looks back instantly, eyes wide and chest heaving. His knees almost give out when he sees Heimerdinger alive and well. He swallows. 

“The limit is four seconds,” he says, quietly horrified. 

“Are you certain, my boy?” Heimerdinger asks, eager as ever. “What were the indicators?”

Your brains on the floor, Ekko thinks but does not say, instead picking up one of Isha’s crayons and marking four seconds on the dial. With the red line firmly set in stone, Ekko breathes a little easier, sitting down in front of the device. 

“Trust me. It’s four seconds.” 

Heimerdinger and Powder both try and convince Ekko to join her at the party at the Last Drop to celebrate, but it isn’t until Isha all but yanks him down to face her and palms her fist that he relents. She and Isha usher him out of the hideout and after Powder, Isha grinning exuberantly and Heimerdinger chortling about being on babysitting duty. Ekko tries to ignore the implications of that but can’t deny that his heart does a little flip in his chest. 

They sidestep. They dance. They laugh. 

Ekko can’t remember the last time he heard Jinx laugh. 

She brings him up to the rooftop. Her shoulder knocks against his with a grin. 

“Where’d you learn those moves?” she asks, a teasing smile on her lips. He finds himself matching it. 

“Oh, I was just following your lead,” he says. Her smile grows.

“What, no Firelight dance parties?” 

Ekko laughs. “Nah,” he shakes his head. “Not like that, at least.” She hums and they look back over the skyline. Piltover isn’t as developed as it is back home, probably the lack of hextech. He thinks he prefers the horizon this way. More space to breathe. 

The events of the past few weeks catch up to him, and before he knows it, he’s glancing back at Powder.

“I want to thank you,” he says gently. “I used to dream the undercity could be like this. But somewhere, I got consumed by all the ways it wasn’t.” Powder shifts, something knowing flickering in her eyes, and he swallows. Ekko wonders if she can tell he’s not just talking about the undercity. Decides fuck it. “I gave up on it. Gave up on her.” 

Beside him, Powder’s eyes soften and she leans over, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’ve never seen you give up on anything, Ekko.”

She’s so soft. Soft in her words. Soft in her affection. Soft in her understanding. It clogs his throat, makes his voice gravelly. 

“You ever wish you could just stay in one moment?” he whispers. Her bangs tickle the underside of his jaw as she shifts. 

“Sometimes taking a leap forward means… leaving a few things behind,” Powder says. The same words he’d told her when he showed her the mural of Vi, when he told her about his ‘dream’, when he said I can’t help but wonder if that’s who you’re supposed to be.

After Isha’s arrival, she questioned him about that. 

‘You think I’m supposed to be a terrorist?’ she asked dryly and he’d choked.

‘No,’ he sputtered. ‘I meant—I meant, a visionary, a genius, someone whose ideas can change the world.’

Because he’s always known that about Jinx. Always knew she was brilliant. And he can’t deny that she’s the reason why their fight against Silco has been so ongoing, so strenuous, so intellectually stimulating. He could only imagine what she’d be able to achieve if she put her mind towards something good. 

“I promise I’ll never forget this,” he whispers. Powder pulls back at that, smiling coyly. 

“You better not,” she teases gently. Then she’s leaning in, and Ekko freezes up. His heart speeds up in his chest when she lifts a hand and gently palms his face. His eyes flutter shut, unable to pull away as she presses a chaste kiss to his lips. He’s panting like he’s run a mile when she pulls back, eyes twinkling. 

“What was that for?” he breathes. 

Powder winks. “Consider that an incentive for you and Jinx to get your shit together.” 

Back in the hideout, Ekko can hardly determine what’s happening. He gawks at Heimerdinger scuttling about, bursts of energy like the world is glitching and sporadic flashes of light, but beneath it all there is—

“Isha?!” 

Her head pops out from behind the tent and Ekko feels a massive weight lift from his chest. He gestures for her to stay there as he turns to Heimerdinger. “What happened to babysitting?” 

It’s time. It’s time and it’s time. 

Ekko, Isha, and Heimerdinger all stand on the platform that Heimerdinger has crafted. Ekko can see doodles of Isha’s littering the metal. She is tucked tight against his leg, face peeking out and squeezing her eyes shut whenever the blue lights flash rather aggressively. 

“Oh, I do wish I could apologize to Miss Powder for co-opting her space like this. It truly was the only way,” Heimerdinger says. Ekko wants to tell him he doesn’t think she’d mind all that much, but then Heimerdinger is pressing a button and powering the machine up. 

The moment the anomaly is conjured around them, Isha’s grip around Ekko tightens and he shifts the Z-Drive so he can hoist her up onto his hip like he’s done a few times. 

“Almost there, kid,” he murmurs. “I’m getting you home.” In response, she winds her arms tight around his neck. 

For one glorious moment he lets himself believe that they’ve done it. Then it goes wrong. The power source disconnects. He and Isha clutch each other tighter. He hates that he can’t see if her eyes are open or closed. He hopes they’re closed. He knows her too well to think she’d do anything but take in every single moment. 

Then Heimerdinger lifts his goggles. 

“I must say that since I’ve met you, lad, I’ve truly lived,” he says, and maybe it’s his tone, or the look in his eye, or even the way that he skips around Ekko to lift his goggles up to Isha, who takes them reflexively, thinking it’s just another one of the Yordle’s games. Ekko’s heart pounds in his chest, and he’s scared for a moment that Isha will feel it and pick up on his fear. 

Jokes on him, Isha’s always been smarter than any of them could give her credit for. She realizes Heimerdinger’s intentions at the same time that Ekko does, and his shout as Heimerdinger leaps out of the anomaly is second only to the shriek that Isha lets out, and he can’t even move, can’t even lunge forward, can’t even reach for Heimerdinger because his hands are full with the Z-Drive and Isha, who thrashes like she’s a caged animal trying to escape, and all Ekko can think is that she doesn’t need to see this.

He twists, ignoring the way her shrill cries pierce his heart and cradling her as tight as he dares. Beyond the flashing lights of the hextech and the anomaly, he sees Powder hurrying down the stairs, he sees Heimerdinger reaching for the wires, sees him look back, sees his mustache twitch, and—

Powder can’t get there fast enough. She stumbles when she comes to the workstation. Ekko—her Ekko—is on the floor and she zeroes in on him immediately, dropping to her knees and cradling his head in her lap. She doesn’t even notice the shapes beyond the glowing white orb until the light fades some. 

The Ekko looking back at her is not hers. He looks like something out of a steampunk novel, clunky and bulky clothing, a coat that looks like it would drown her, and the Z-Drive slung around his shoulder with a leather strap. Tucked inside his coat, bulging slightly with only her hair and limbs sticking out is Isha. She looks distraught. She looks terrified. She clings to Ekko like she’ll never see him again. She’s white-knuckling a pair of goggles. 

They both look out at her, and she can only stare, can only breathe as Ekko offers perhaps the saddest smile she’s ever seen. 

Then they’re gone. And her boy wonder wakes up. 

*

He stumbles when they land, and his free hand drops the Z-Drive, knowing that it’s secured around his torso so he can further cradle Isha before they crash to the floor. His knees give out and he crumples. Isha is trembling against him, and assurances slip past his lips like second nature. 

“I’ve got you, Ish,” he rasps. She just cries harder. She pulls away from him slightly and he allows it, craning his neck back just in time to catch her shaking hands. Her open hand, fingers splayed out, thumb tapping her chin while she hiccups. He recognizes it instantly and his stomach drops. 

She’s begging him. 

His heart cracks open in his chest, the entire ordeal washing over him—waking up in the other Ekko’s body, Powder, Benzo, Heimerdinger—and before he knows it, tears of his own are seeping from his eyes. His gloved hand cradles the back of Isha’s head, bringing their foreheads together. 

“I know, baby,” his voice warbles, and she keens like a dog. 

Janna knows he wants to fly right to Jinx’s hideout, but he can’t. Not yet. Not until he takes stock. The first step is getting out of Piltover. His board is still stashed where he left it, so it’s easy to get it and get out, Isha clinging to him like a koala as they fly. Before they took off, she wrestled Heimerdinger’s goggles onto her head, looking up at him like she was daring him to say something about them. 

He flies straight to his tree, and it suddenly doesn’t matter that the stars are already out, because when Scar spots him and lets out a bellow that rouses the entire base, everyone is on their feet. Isha startles and whines at the noise, and Ekko, shifting her in his hold as best as he can, holds up a hand as he lands. Scar, his best friend, his brother, notices the kid first and visibly does a double-take. He whistles sharply into the crowd and the roar dins a little. Scar’s wide eyes are stuck on Isha, who has buried her face in the giant collar of Ekko’s coat. 

He assures people as best as he’s able that he’s back and alive and is ushered away by Scar. When they turn to go to Ekko’s room, he shakes his head. Scar swiftly redirects, taking Ekko to his own room. As soon as the door is closed, Scar whirls on Ekko.

“Why the fuck do you have Jinx’s kid?” are the first words out of his mouth. Ekko blinks. 

“You know Isha?” 

Scar just gapes at him. He scoffs once he’s regained his wits. “Oh, yeah,” he drawls sarcastically. “We go way back. We did time together in Stillwater, you know.” 

“What—”

“Where have you been?!” Scar bursts out. “I thought you were dead—” he cuts himself off abruptly, turning away from Ekko with an aggrieved exhale. Isha shifts in Ekko’s hold, lifting her head to look at Scar. Ekko raises a brow at her. 

“Is he being serious?” he asks. “Were you arrested?” Isha shrugs. Ekko gapes. 

“When was this?” he asks, voice slightly shrill. “Where was your mother?” 

This time Isha makes a sheepish face that he immediately translates to mean she snuck out and he huffs. “Of course you did,” he rolls his eyes. Isha mimics him. Then she fingerspells Jinx’s name. 

Right. Ekko swallows. He turns back to Scar who looks at him and Isha as though seeing him in a whole new light. He almost flushes under Scar’s gaze. 

“I’m not crazy,” he prefaces. Scar’s brows shoot up into his hairline. “I was in an alternate universe.” Scar only stares for a moment. 

“Okay.”

Ekko blinks. “Okay?” he echoes. “Just like that?” Scar sighs as though resigning himself to a cursed life.

“Man,” he says. “I’ve learned to take shit as you shovel it. You say you’ve been in an alternate universe? Fuck it, why not—I’ll believe you.” Encouraged, Ekko gives Scar an abridged version of events, not wanting to spill too much about Powder, feeling that that’s something private, something just for him, Isha, and Jinx. Instead, he tells him about Heimerdinger and the Z-Drive. When he reaches the end of his tale, he swallows, knowing what he has to do next. Scar sees the shift in his face and raises a brow. 

Ekko shifts Isha in his arms. Sleepy though she may be, she perks up. 

Are we going to get Jinx now? She asks. Ekko swallows again.

“I’m going,” he says. “But I need you to stay here.” 

Isha’s hopeful expression dies instantly, replaced with a stony glare. She is not impressed with him, but he can’t risk it. From what he was able to get out of her in the alternate universe, she tried to sacrifice herself to save Jinx, which meant that Jinx probably thought she was dead. And Ekko had no idea how she would react to seeing Isha again, not to mention seeing him. 

Isha’s hands are flying a mile a minute, making her displeasure known. Ekko just shakes his head. 

“Hey,” he repeats the more incensed she gets. “Remember what you told me when we met? Jinx said I was a friend, right?” 

Scars eyebrows raise again at this but Ekko pays him no mind. Isha is still glaring petulantly, but he can see now it’s mostly masking a pout. When it’s clear he’s waiting for her to respond, she sighs and nods like it’s the most arduous task he could’ve asked of her. Some of the tension leaks from Ekko’s shoulders. 

“And she said I was safe, right?”

Isha nods again. Ekko lets out a small breath of relief. 

“There you go, then,” he says softly. “You trust me and I trust you, and I promise I’m gonna go get her, okay? And I’ve got the Z-Drive.” She’s still not happy with him, but with the fight mostly draining out of her, her pout takes over, and soon enough she’s sniffling and holding herself tightly to keep from crying. Ekko’s hand rubs her back as he nods. “Okay. You’re gonna stay here with Scar. Apparently you’re already acquainted, so even better.” 

She’s still petulant as he puts her down, and he’s about to take off when her hand reaches out suddenly, tugging on the hem of his coat. He looks down at her expectantly. She doesn’t even need to Sign. He huffs a laugh and shrugs out of his coat, practically dropping it on her as she marches off to the couch. Scar watches the exchange, and when Ekko lifts his head to meet his friend’s eye, he immediately flushes. Scar looks like he’s just dying to take the piss out of Ekko, so he makes a hasty exit. 

*

He barely makes it in time. That’s what scares him the most. He’s just stepped into her hideout, so familiar and yet so foreign, when he sees the explosion. The "Wait!" is ripped from his throat as he yanks on the chain of his Z-Drive. 

Rewind.

He can’t break his promise to Isha. He can’t let Jinx break his promise to Isha. 

But fuck… she looks like a shell of herself. He’s never seen her so desolate, so utterly defeated. Not even when they fought on the bridge. At least then she’d smiled. She’s nothing right now and it carves something out of his soul to see her like this. 

She barely looks over at him. The only indication she’s aware he’s there at all is the slight lift of her head. He takes a ginger step forward, hand outstretched like encountering a skittish deer. 

“I just want to talk to you,” he says, voice bordering on pleading. 

“Get out of here, Ekko,” her voice is as soft as Powder’s, but it’s missing inflection, missing feeling. Her eyes flicker back to the bomb in her hands.

“I just—”

She pulls the pin.

Rewind.

His heart hammers in his chest as he pants. Janna, he doesn’t know if he’s ever felt fear like this. 

“I just wanna talk to you, Pow—” he winces, part of him still stuck in the alternate universe, so on edge in this space, her hideout, where he watched Heimerdinger sacrifice himself not even an hour ago. “—Jinx.” 

She doesn’t even say anything. Just stares.

She pulls the pin.

Rewind. 

Because he’d stepped closer, he gets thrown back a bit, and the impact follows him even as the Z-Drive rights him again. He grunts, wavering on unsteady feet. A drop of blood falls from his forehead. He wipes at it absently, chest heaving more. He can’t even gather his thoughts before she’s speaking again, softer, sadder.

“You’re too late, Ekko.” 

“Wait—”

Rewind.

He reaches out to the railing, unable to hold his own weight as the fourth blast rocks him. His mind is scrambled, and for some reason the only thing he can think to say, breathlessly, is: “Always a dance with you.” 

That catches her attention. Her eyes finally dart over to him as if she’s actually seeing him, and not just through him. Something dangerously close to hope unfurls in Ekko’s chest, and taking the reprieve, he lowers himself to the floor, wincing slightly as he moves.

“I think I’m just gonna sit here a minute, you know, catch my breath,” and boy does he need it. “See if I can talk an old friend out of blowing us up.” 

He feels dead on his feet. He can’t even imagine how he looks as her eyes rake over him, travelling back to the bomb in her hands, considering. 

“I’m tired of talking,” she whispers and pitches forward. 

He’s on his feet before he can process, shouting desperately as he yanks at the Z-Drive.

Rewind.

He’s standing only a foot away from her. All it would take is one step and he could clamp a hand around her arm, drag her around the edge, but what would that achieve? He knows her too well. Or at least, he usually knows her. Truth be told, the Jinx in front of him is terrifying. He can’t predict her. He doesn’t even think she can predict herself right now. 

Every word he utters next is a prayer in and of itself. 

“You know, I learned from someone,” his tongue darts out, wets his lips. “Very special, that no matter what happened in the past, it’s never too late to build something new…” 

She looks him over again. Not moving. Barely even looking like she’s breathing. It’s funny, he hasn’t even registered until now that she’s lopped her hair off. It’s closer to the length that Powder’s was, and isn’t that something? The comparison makes something in his chest ache. Then her gaze shifts, and her eyes catch on the Z-Drive at his side, at the clapping monkeys that revolve around the anomaly. Ekko follows her gaze and braces himself. 

“Someone worth building it for,” he implores. His hand wavers by the chain again, unsure of where to go next. When she just stares, he sucks in a breath. Go big or go home, he thinks. 

“Someone like Isha,” he breathes out, and her head snaps towards him, a dozen emotions warring in her eyes. For the first time since he showed up, her facade falters. She looks hopeful, and then enraged at him for giving it to her. But then—a crease of her brows, another glance at the clapping monkeys in the Z-Drive. Ekko holds his breath. When her eyes lift back to his, that spark of hope is back. 

“How do you know about Isha?” she whispers, and Ekko feels his entire being relax. 

His first thought is thank Janna.

His second thought is I should’ve prepared a speech.

“We got sent to an alternate universe,” he blurts, then mentally facepalms. For a second he’s terrified that this will send her back over the edge—literally—but all she does is wrinkle her nose like she’s trying to figure out if she misheard him.

“What?” 

He flushes, but talks her through it. Unlike the rushed summary he gave Scar, he tells Jinx everything, starting with his tree and only pausing after he tells her about Isha’s arrival. 

He hadn’t clued in at the time, but when she looks at him this time, it occurs to him that they’re both sitting. Her two legs are dangling over the edge of the propeller blade, but she’s still here. She’s still listening. 

She looks terrified, he realizes with a pang. “Isha’s alive?” she asks. Ekko nods, and a smile breaks out across his face without him meaning to. 

“She is,” he says, matching her tone. “Scar’s babysitting her for me right now.” Her jaw actually drops open at that. 

“He is not.”

“He is!” 

“Bullshit! Did you have to tie her down so she wouldn’t sneak out after you?” Jinx asks. Ekko huffs a laugh.

“No?” he asks. “She’s pretty wiped, and she’s a pretty good listener.” Jinx stares at his deadpan.

“Okay,” she says. “You’re losing me, here, because that kid is not a good listener,” she scoffs. “She started a revolution! Did she tell you that? And she got herself thrown in Stillwater!” 

“I did hear about Stillwater, actually,” Ekko perks up. “But I didn’t get any details. What the hell did she do?”

Jinx rolls her eyes fondly. It’s impossible not to track the way she sets the bomb aside. “She snuck out to go to a riot.” 

Ekko snorts. “She what?”

“What, like she never gave you the slip in whatever Happily Ever After world you were cozied up in?”

“No,” Ekko says, surprised to find it’s true. “She didn’t.” Jinx’s jaw drops again, this time in offense.

“Are you kidding me?!” 

Ekko shrugs. “She trusted me,” he said, and then, because he can’t resist teasing her, smirks. “Apparently someone told her that I’m the person she’s meant to find if she’s lost or in trouble.” He’s extremely chuffed when Jinx flushes at that. 

“I can’t believe you found out about that,” she mutters. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” 

“The fact you made me your kid’s emergency contact? Never.” 

Jinx rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling, a small thing. She gnaws on her lip for a moment, seemingly contemplating something. “Well,” she whispers. “Considering you brought her back, I think I could learn to live with that.” 

The warmth that floods him upon hearing those words is frankly pathetic, but he doesn’t give a hoot. He rides the wave of triumph as he pushes himself to his feet, extending a hand. 

“C’mon,” he says gently. “I promised her I’d bring you back.” 

She blinks at his outstretched hand. “You know there’s a fight coming,” she says. He cracks an impossible grin. 

“Isn’t there always?”

She huffs a laugh, draws one knee up to her chest and takes his hand. He squeezes hers as he pulls her to her feet. He doesn’t let go once he’s standing and she doesn’t pull away. 

“We’ll need to get ready for war,” she says. 

“And we will,” Ekko asserts. “But your kid’s already waited two weeks to see you.” She softens from the inside out. Ekko counts his lucky stars that he’s able to witness it. 

“Low blow,” she murmurs, voice tinged with unmistakable warmth. “Using Isha against me.”

“Get used to it,” he smiles and gives her hand another squeeze. 

*

The moment the sun is up, Isha is sitting in front of the mural, like Ekko showed her in the alternate universe. Scar is seated beside her, a little grumpy as he nurses a mug of coffee. 

Luckily she doesn't have to wait long. She hears Ekko’s board before she sees them, and the second she does, she’s leaping to her feet. She cranes her neck to see the neon green trail his board leaves in the air and traces it back to the source. There—she sees his hair first, the Z-Drive resting at his side, but he’s partially blocking the person behind him. All she can see are two dainty hands and a wisp of blue hair—nowhere near as long as she remembered, but it doesn’t matter—behind him, along with a knapsack. 

They touch down on the grass and Isha is sprinting. Ekko’s coat, large on him but practically weighing her down, drags and the arms flap at her sides. She doesn’t care. Tears spring to her eyes when the figure behind Ekko stumbles off the board before it’s fully stopped, lurching towards Isha with the same urgency. 

Tears stream down Jinx’s face and when they collide it’s a clash of limbs and fabric and they both go tumbling to the ground. Jinx simply twists, clutching Isha to her chest like she’ll never get to hold her again. Her hip smarts as she lands harshly on the grass, but she doesn’t give a shit. She shoves her face against Isha’s hair, breathing through her sobs. Isha is wrapped in Ekko’s coat, enveloped in his scent, something earthy, but Jinx can still pick out the axle grease that Jinx herself carries from constantly working in her hideout. She hears footsteps and opens her eyes. Ekko stands before her, looking down at them with the softest expression she’s ever seen on his face. 

She’ll never admit that she was scared he was lying. That she would get here and Isha wouldn’t be waiting.

Judging by the small twitch of his lips, fond and slightly exasperated, she doesn’t have to. 

He knows her.