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There is a phrase, something that Marin said at their first meeting, that has taken up residence in the back of Jinx’s mind.
Single mother.
It’s been about a week and a half since they settled in at the Firelight base, and Jinx means that literally. Ekko cleared out another drawer in his dresser so both Jinx and Isha have their own, and they popped by her hideout, packing up a few of her things and then swinging by the Last Drop to see Sevika before making their way back.
Sevika had actually stumbled when she saw Jinx and Isha with Ekko behind them. Isha had no reservations about sprinting across the bar to hug the ogre. Jinx snorted at the look on her face.
Piltover said you disappeared. I thought you were dead, Sevika said.
You know me better than that—I’m a cockroach, remember?
Ekko hadn’t found that as funny, but that’s not the point—the point is that Jinx and Isha are moved in and here to stay. Isha took to the move with fervor, taping some of her drawings up on the walls of Ekko’s room and snuggling into her tent, propped in the corner just beside the door. Ekko’s workshop has been similarly taken over. He surprised both of them when he finally showed them, a rugrat-sized desk in the corner with a plaque with Isha’s name separating it from the rest of the space.
But that’s not why Jinx hasn’t been able to get Marin’s words out of her head.
Sure, she’d only somewhat accepted that she considered Isha her kid after Ekko brought her back, so wracked with grief in that Piltie prison that the only words her brain could scrounge up to try and make sense of what she’d witnessed were my baby.
And now that Isha is back, Jinx feels them more than ever. Reuniting on the grass of the Firelights base, hands mapping every groove of Isha’s small body, trying to memorize her before Jinx lost the chance to forever.
She’s had a lot of time to recollect, is what she’s trying to get at. She would sit at communal meals and catch herself passing Isha a napkin right before she’d spill something, or when she had to scramble to the door two mornings ago to call out for Isha to slow down on the stairs when she rushed out to meet her new friends (and hadn’t that made Jinx feel like she was a decade older than she actually was, ugh).
She doesn’t remember a lot about her own mom, Felicia, but she remembers soft words, softer lullabies, and gentle hands twisting her hair into a braid. She catches herself doing all these with Isha and that’s what cements it in her mind.
Jinx, for better or worse, has taken up the post as Isha’s parent.
So, yes, in a roundabout if-you’re-big-on-technicalities kind of way, Jinx is exactly what Marin said she was.
The only problem is that after a week here, she’s not entirely sure how true that still is.
The first hiccup occurred the day Ekko showed them his workshop, four days ago. They’d just gotten back from her hideout and the Last Drop and Ekko was adamant about bringing all of Jinx’s gadgets and materials in himself, insistent that there was something he wanted to fix up before they saw the workshop.
Jinx would have protested more had Isha not been tugging insistently to help set up the tent and all the fairy lights in Ekko’s room. The two girls finished their strenuous fort-building task and were curled up together, giggling under the lights when the door opened.
She recognized the look on Ekko’s face immediately—he looked the exact same as when he’d finally managed the monocycle, triumphant and smug and what are you waiting for, Pow?
He grinned at the girls and leaned against the doorframe.
“So this is the infamous nest in action,” he mused. Jinx waggled her brows.
“Comfy, right? You can take a load off and curl up with us, I won’t judge or blackmail you.”
“How kind,” Ekko drawled. “But I had another idea. D’you still wanna see the workshop?”
Boy, did she! Jinx and Isha both bounded behind Ekko as he led them around the base, the boy savior waving at literally every person they passed and Isha scrutinizing them all with open curiosity. Jinx maintained a wary stance, only actually nodding at Scar, Marin, and Briar when she spotted them.
“This is where the magic happens,” Ekko said, opening a door and waving an arm for Jinx and Isha to pass through. Jinx rolled her eyes at the pun but couldn’t disguise the quirk of her lips as she took in the space. Someone else had obviously worked here, someone with fancy cursive handwriting, she noted as she looked around. Probably the Professor, Jinx remembered his role in Ekko’s story. The other desk must’ve belonged to him before Ekko put Jinx’s things on it. The two desks were side by side and although he probably intended for her to check out her own designated space first, Jinx couldn’t help wandering over to Ekko’s desk, casually thumbing through some of his equations.
“You forgot to carry the decimal here,” she said. He was at her side in an instant, neck craned over her shoulder, brows furrowed.
“What? Where?”
Jinx pointed. Ekko blew out a small puff of air, quickly reaching for a pencil and adjusting his measurements. “Thanks, but that’s not what I wanted to show you,” he let the pencil drop and straightened. Isha was poking around a box of scraps under Jinx’s new desk. Ekko whistled. She straightened instantly, glancing over at Ekko. “Got something for you, trouble.”
Isha perked up, scurrying across the workshop to match step as Ekko moved towards the corner, where he’d tacked up a sheet. Jinx raised a brow at it, wandering a few steps behind as Ekko stepped up and grabbed the corner, looking down at Isha and grinning.
“Allow me to introduce, your very own workstation!” He pulled the sheet down in one smooth motion, letting it fall to the floor and reveal the small desk shoved against the wall. Isha gasped excitedly, practically bouncing past Ekko and running her hands over the smoothed wood, over the stool with the white cushion, and even ducking her head to check out the drawers. She let out a squeal of excitement that begged Jinx closer, and when she stood just beside Ekko, Isha turned, holding up a small plaque with the letters of her name welded on. Jinx grinned back, unable to look away from Isha’s excitement.
“Not bad,” she said, straying a little closer and poking through the drawers herself. One was full of pencil crayons and sheaths of paper but the other held scrap pieces, half-built gadgets and little things for Isha to tinker with if she wanted.
Isha didn’t even bother to clamber off the stool, just stood on the cushion and launched herself arms-outstretched at Ekko. He caught her easily as she koala-beared him, laughing.
“You like it?”
Isha nodded rapidly, nearing hitting Ekko’s shoulder.
Jinx’s eye caught on a slip of paper folded and taped to the wall. Interest piquing, she reached out and plucked up off the wall, unfolding it. Her lips pulled into a warm smile when she saw that it was a portrait Ekko had done of Isha. She glanced over her shoulder and held it up. Ekko grinned, setting Isha down so she could scamper back over to Jinx and inspect the drawing.
“I saw all the pictures you had tacked up in your hideout,” he said, stepping up on Isha’s other side. “Thought I could give you a head start.”
Jinx hopped up onto Isha’s desk while her little hands traced the lines of Ekko’s drawing, beaming and flushed. Her eyes looked back to Jinx, smile widening as she waved the picture.
“I know,” Jinx said. “Little Man’s pretty good, isn’t he?”
“Well it’s not hard when your subject is so pretty,” Ekko said, winking at Isha. Then he crouched down to her level. “I have another surprise too,” he said, reaching for the underside of the desk, Jinx leaning forward to crane her neck. She’d noticed a small curtain hanging below the desk but didn’t think much of it until Ekko pulled it aside, revealing a crawl space just big enough for Isha to curl up under. Isha’s jaw dropped as she hurried forward, crouching and crawling forward, looking around in amazement at the cushion Ekko had already laid out. She turned back and regarded him with wide eyes as he shrugged.
“This way you have somewhere cozy to hole up if we ever lose track of time.”
“Thought time was your whole shtick,” Jinx poked, trying fervently to ignore the warmth that had threatened to burst and crack her ribs at Ekko’s thoughtfulness. It was one thing to let them take over his room but he’d taken the initiative to create a space for Isha beyond what Jinx had imagined. She shouldn’t have been surprised—this was Ekko, after all—but his care still took her aback.
Still half-leaned over the desk, she watched Isha’s knees lock and knew that the girl was tensing to spring up as she ducked out from under the desk. What she didn’t realize was that she was too early. It was too far of a reach for Jinx, who could see the impending collision in her mind's eye, but that didn’t stop her from trying anyway.
Then—just before Isha’s head could knock into the underside of the desks edge—Ekko’s hand shot out, cupping the wood and cushioning the back of Isha’s head when she rose. She bumped into him, startled, and blinked. Ekko maintained his easy grin as Isha climbed out, and once she was in the clear, lifted his hand to ruffle her hair.
“Careful,” he chastised lightly as Isha batted his hands away.
Jinx blinked for a long moment, her own hand still half-flexed. She let it drop limply at her side, simply staring at Isha and Ekko for a minute.
It was easy to forget that they had spent two weeks together in Ekko’s alternate universe when it had barely been two days for Jinx. The two of them were always quick to remind her though; Isha’s familiarity with Ekko was undeniable, the way she would seek him out even when he was surrounded by other Firelights. Jinx tried to shepherd Isha away at first, still trying to find her own place among this community and not wanting to butt in as she tried to gather her bearings. She’d known Ekko was the Firelights leader but it was different to see it in person, to see that he didn’t just lead his bugs but all the people who lived here, always aware of the goings on. It was unencroachable territory—for Jinx, that is. Isha had no such qualms, elbowing her way towards Ekko, and Little Man would always scoop her up onto his hip without even a break in his conversation.
The first time it had happened Jinx was a few feet away, not quite nimble enough to catch Isha before she could run off, and could only stare dumbly for a moment.
A low chuckle beside her had broken her stupor, and Jinx glanced sideways to see Briar, her infant curled against her chest this time, smile at Isha and Ekko.
“He’s good with her,” she said. Jinx glanced back at her girl and Ekko, eyes snagging briefly on the way Isha rested her head on Ekko’s shoulder and fiddled absently with the strap of his overalls. Jinx swallowed.
“Yeah.”
“Most guys wouldn’t even entertain her,” Briar continued. “But Ekko’s always been different when it comes to kids. He’s different with Isha, too.”
Jinx didn’t know how to answer that, feeling it could be a trap of some sort because of course she had noticed that too. From the first day when he came over after she and Isha drew alongside some other kids. They’d all swarmed him but Isha was the only one Ekko had held onto, a hand over her hair and a soft smile on his face, eyes automatically trailing over her, taking in the chalk dust. He’d even thumbed away a smudge of blue on her jaw.
Jinx couldn’t tell you why that’s what ran through her head watching Ekko and Isha just then, her eyes darting back to the spot Isha almost hit her head on.
He’d done what Jinx was about to do. Didn’t even say anything, just reached out and did it. Like it hadn’t just made Jinx stop in her tracks, like he didn’t even realize. And that only flustered her more because what did that mean? Why did she feel so discombobulated, suddenly?
“Jinx?” Ekko’s voice snapped her out of her stupor. It had the unfortunate side effect of causing heat to rise to her cheeks, feeling caught for reasons she couldn’t quite understand. He had a brow cocked. “You okay?”
She kicked off the desk with a clearing of her throat, nodding once. “Yeah,” she said. “Fine.”
The second hiccup was the night immediately following the first hiccup.
Jinx had conked out hours prior, utterly spent after the gruelling 5 hour war meeting Ekko dragged her to attend. Scar had returned from Piltover, flipped Jinx the bird and said it was from Sevika, and filled the rest of them in on news of the Noxians.
“Medarda knows their forces firsthand,” he said, standing at Ekko’s right. “We don’t have the numbers to take them from the ground. Not entirely, at least.”
“So we fly,” Raven, the girl who always wore the bird mask (fitting name, Jinx felt), said. Ekko was shaking his head before she’d finished speaking.
“The air isn’t compatible with the hoverboards. Not to fly all the way there and still work in both air spaces. The airdocks are one thing but to get into the heart of the city, all the way up top? They'd give out halfway.”
“Don’t use them, then,” Jinx said, tone deceptively bored. Every eye turned to her, some incredulous, some suspicious. Only Ekko eyed her consideringly, head tilted slightly. She met his gaze head on and watched realization flash in his eyes. A slow grin pulled at his lips.
“You want to use your hideout.”
Scar raised a brow. “Mind elaborating?”
“It’s an old airship,” Jinx said, mischief and satisfaction flashing in her eyes as she leaned forward, arms crossed lazily on the table. “One of the ones from the old war with the propellers. Practically entombed in a descending warehouse.”
“The old war?” Raven echoed, tone slightly incredulous. “Does it even work?”
“No idea,” Jinx said. “But we can make it.”
Ekko was already nodding. “The mechanisms should still be in place,” he was saying. “All we’d need to do is spruce it up.”
“Are you sure you can get it working in time?” Scar asked, not challenging, only curious. Jinx and Ekko turned bemused and deadpanned expressions on him at the same time, and Scar smirked, crossing his arms. “I figured.”
She didn’t care for the rest of the specifics, mind already soaring as she mentally worked through calculations and designs. Ekko, anticipating such, didn’t try and draw her back into the discussion, for which she was thankful. It was way more entertaining thinking up ways to make her hideout fly than listen to stuffy strategy meetings. She’d never had the patience for them, something Silco learned early on. She was more of a ‘shoot first, think later’ kind of gal. Improvisation was her middle name!
Isha had weaseled her way in halfway through. They heard the commotion first, a frantic call of her name, and both Ekko and Jinx turned as one just in time to see Isha run into the room, Ekko’s huge coat practically drowning her as she marched right up between them, climbing onto Jinx’s lap.
“Hey Ish!” Jinx grinned. “I thought you were playing.”
Isha sniffed dismissively in a way Jinx translated to mean it’s been three hours, how much longer are you gonna be stuck in here.
Jinx hummed. “I know, I’m bored too.”
Marin came in next, flushed and smiling apologetically. “Isha—”
“She’s fine,” Ekko said. Every head turned to him, Scar bemused and the rest incredulous. Jinx winked at Marin.
“Er, Ekko?” Another Firelight, Abe asked. “This isn’t exactly the best place for a little girl.”
“She’s not a little girl,” Jinx said, eyeing Abe in a way that suggested she thought him incompetent. He flushed under her gaze but didn’t shrink away, which earned him a sliver of respect. Jinx gestured to Ekko’s coat around Isha’s figure. “She’s clearly a Firelight.”
Scar snorted when Isha sat up straighter, a small boasting grin on her face that made her look so much like Jinx. Ekko’s grin widened and he looked over his shoulder, dismissing Marin with a nod. The rest of the meeting commenced without further interruptions, Jinx murmuring to Isha the plans to transform the hideout into a flying machine and Isha’s hands Signing her own contributions.
Ekko ended the meeting when he glanced over to see Isha covering a yawn.
“Our newest Firelight needs some sleep,” he said, not shy about grinning as Isha mock-glared. Jinx snorted, standing with Isha in her arms.
“Come on then, little bug,” she said, sweeping out of the war room with Scar on her heels. He eyed her as they walked.
“You didn’t listen to a single thing at that meeting,” he accused lightly. Jinx snorted.
“Not a word.”
Even so, she was wiped. Both her and Isha falling onto Ekko’s bed and curling up together. She didn’t hear him come in later, already dead to the world.
A strangled scream woke her up, shooting upright and immediately turning her attention to Isha, writhing with tears streaming down her face. Ekko, on Isha’s other side, mirrored her, one hand on Isha’s back as he hefted her up.
“Isha, wake up,” Jinx urged, crawling in front of her girl and cupping her face in her hands. Amber eyes snapped open with another strained wail, and as Isha woke up, teary eyed and sniffling, she slumped into Ekko’s chest, who held her upright. Jinx’s hands never strayed from Isha’s face, thumbing away her tears as Isha continued to whine. “You’re okay, Ish.”
Her little eyes squeezed shut, face screwing up as she leaned further into Ekko.
And Jinx blinked. First at the small flash of jealousy that ran through her with a vengeance, a split-second urge to push Ekko off the bed and draw Isha into her chest, one hand cradling the back of her head like she did in Janna’s temple.
Secondly at the way Ekko’s arms came up to cradle Isha, folding himself over her like he was shielding her from any outside interferences, like it was second nature to hold her like she was the most delicate thing in the universe. His bicep brushed Jinx’s hand, still cupping Isha’s face.
“You’re alright,” he murmured to her. “You’re home, remember? Jinx is right here.”
Jinx’s heart did a funny little twist when Isha peeked her eyes open, eyes desperately searching Jinx’s face in the pale moonlight. Jinx tried to smile.
“Hey, kid,” she whispered, following Ekko’s lead. “It’s me. I’m here.”
Isha hiccuped once and then she was lurching forward, Ekko’s arms falling aside to allow her to throw herself at Jinx, who wrapped around the small girl, trying to fold Isha into herself while she hiccuped and cried softly. Her hand flew to the back of Isha’s head and let out a relieved sigh at the contact. Her own eyes had fluttered shut only to snap back open when she felt Ekko’s hand close over her own on Isha’s head, but Ekko wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were reserved for Isha and Isha alone, and Jinx’s heart skipped a beat when he dipped his head and pressed a firm kiss to the top of Isha’s head.
“That’s it,” he murmured, voice soft and gentle. “She’s right here, Ish.” Suddenly scared of what she might see in Ekko’s face when he lifted his head, Jinx closed her eyes again and nuzzled Isha, breathing in her scent. Ekko didn’t move away, simply resting out of Jinx’s reach, a steady presence at Isha’s side—at Jinx’s side.
When Isha’s breathing evened out again and Jinx felt she had enough of a grasp on her faculties, she blinked her eyes open and nearly jerked away when she saw Ekko’s eyes were already on her. Not searching, not accusing or scrutinizing. Just watching. He didn’t look away, which made Jinx feel more flustered than if he had.
“How’d you know?” She whispered. Ekko hummed, gaze dropping to Isha and giving Jinx a small reprieve to breathe. His hand still enclosed hers over Isha’s hair.
“In the other timeline,” he said. “She woke up almost every night. Sometimes screaming about a wolf-man. Sometimes crying for you.”
Jinx’s heart squeezed and she unconsciously tightened her grip on Isha. Ekko continued.
“Powder tried to comfort her at first,” he said, and Jinx felt a stab of jealousy towards her alternate self for the first time. Ekko’s next words alleviated it, though. “We thought it might help but Isha wouldn’t have it. She tried to bite her, actually. After that, I was the one who stayed with her.”
They stayed there for another hour. Then, as Isha began to stir, Ekko moved. Jinx snapped to attention, wide eyes looking him over as he pulled away.
“Where are you going?” She blurted. Ekko startled slightly, then softened.
“I need to run to Scar’s,” he said gently. “I don’t have any juice.”
Again, Jinx stilled as his words washed over her.
It was something Felicia and then Vander used to do after she had nightmares. A cup of juice, something sweet to soothe her. When Isha had her first nightmare in Jinx’s care, she’d panicked and reverted back to her basest of instincts. She’d never divulged that comfort to Silco, not feeling deserving of it, not after she killed Vander. She wasn’t worthy of that memory, that comfort, not anymore.
Even so, when Isha woke up that first time, sobbing and curled so tightly into herself Jinx had to pry her arms open, she couldn’t think of anything else to do. She’d fled with a promise she’d only be 10 minutes and then she was off like a shot, shimmer propelling her faster than she thought possible to get to The Last Drop. She returned with a cup and a bottle of juice to find Isha wearing a blanket like a cape.
It was one of their things. Her and Isha.
(Mother and daughter.)
And now, apparently, it was something that Ekko knew, something that not even Sevika had been privy to.
She didn’t know what kind of face she was making but whatever it was had Ekko hesitating.
“Or you can go,” he offered. “I know that’s your thing, she told me—”
“No,” Jinx blurted, heart picking up as she nodded. “No, you go. I’ll stay with her.”
Ekko glanced down at Isha before looking back at Jinx. “You sure?”
She nodded. “Yeah,” she breathed. “We’ll be okay.”
“Okay,” Ekko nodded. “I’ll just be a sec.”
Then he was gone and Jinx was able to breathe again. “Not bad, boy savior,” she muttered under her breath, shifting Isha in her hold ever so slightly. “Not bad at all.”
The third hiccup was yesterday. Jinx, feeling stifled from all the people constantly around the base and seeking Ekko out, was taking a well-needed reprieve, tucked away high in the tree’s branches, carefully obscured from any seeking eyes. She had her spyglass at her side, watching Ekko and Isha as they wandered about the green. All three of them had been in the workshop, Jinx thinking up a brand new gun, Isha doodling, and Ekko amending the hoverboards. With the plan in place to fix up her hideout and strike from above, Ekko had to rework the hoverboards so they would fly even smoother than before in the Piltie air.
After the third person came knocking on the door Jinx had slammed her things down on her desk and looked up, nostrils flaring. Isha didn’t jump, only looked over her shoulder. Ekko raised a brow, gaze raking over Jinx.
“You okay?”
“How can you stand it?” Jinx asked. “All the people all the time?” Ekko snorted.
“Not all of us are hermits,” he said. He gave her the idea to hide away for a bit, and feeling secure in leaving Isha in Ekko’s more than capable hands, Jinx took the opportunity gratefully.
She was up in the tree for a few hours before Ekko and Isha emerged, taking turns people watching, offering comments to herself, relishing in the aloneness. It was the hardest transition thus far, being part of a community where people were friendly and gave a shit and sought out conversation. It was overwhelming, even when people did their best to give Jinx space, give her time to adjust, being patient. It all grated on her.
She would’ve been able to handle hostility, kept expecting it, but the damn bugs wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Most were thankful for the Stillwater break, revered her for reversing the grey, or too preoccupied about the upcoming war to openly oppose her or Ekko’s decision to bring her here. They were all so considerate. It made her grind her teeth.
This was a break she needed, to just sit and be and observe and be one with her thoughts, to reflect on, well, everything.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the first two hiccups. Couldn’t stop thinking about the way she overheard two Firelights whistle under their breath when Ekko let Isha swing from his arms, laughing jubilantly in post-dinner bliss, the two young women unaware that Jinx was only a few feet away from them and able to hear every word.
“Just when I thought he couldn’t look better,” the one had murmured, to which her friend laughed coyly.
“Why is it that men get 10 times hotter when they’re good with kids?” she’d mused, and something in Jinx’s stomach turned.
Then the first one said he’d be a good dad and Jinx had enough, pushing up and stalking away, muscles taut and a flush on her face she didn’t know how to make sense of.
Because yes, Ekko was objectively nice to look at. Jinx wasn’t blind, and that wasn’t just the fact that when she was around Isha’s age she had the fleeting thought that if she ever had to have a husband she wouldn’t mind it being Ekko.
She shifted in her spot on the tree branch, seeking Ekko out with her spyglass and narrowing her gaze.
Yes. Ekko was objectively nice to look at. He had a nice smile, she supposed, and kind enough eyes…
She blinked, nose wrinkling as she leaned away from the spyglass. What does it matter if he has kind eyes? she lightly chastised herself. Still, Jinx went back to the spyglass, trying to dissect whatever those girls had seen when they looked at Ekko. Did they think he had a nice smile and kind eyes?
Did they think he was graceful on that hoverboard of his? Did they think that the way he carried himself with confidence was admirable? Did their gaze sometimes wander and find themselves fixed on those arms? Wondering how it might feel to be held by them?
Jinx’s face heated up and she quickly moved her gaze to Isha, who was skipping and running ahead, though she never strayed far and kept glancing back at Ekko, making sure he was still there. Jinx was close enough to hear them when Isha turned back and Signed something, asking about Vi, of all things.
“She made it back to Piltover,” she heard Ekko say. “Scar says that he’s seen her.”
Isha’s hands moved again and Ekko grinned. “I’ve known Scar almost as long as I’ve known Jinx,” he said. “We found each other on the street.”
Like me and Jinx, Isha says, and Jinx smiles the same as Ekko.
“Just like that,” he said. “Scar’s like a brother to me. I brought him back here, and we built this whole place along with some other friends.”
Not Jinx?
“No,” Ekko’s smile turned a little sad, his eyes a little tighter. “No, she was busy building her own hideout.”
Jinx gnaws on her lip, lowering the spyglass. It’s true that she never told Isha the true extent of her relationship with Ekko. By the time Isha fell into her lap, Jinx had been at war with the other Firelights, fighting firmly on Silco’s side. She didn’t know how much Isha knew, how much she might’ve picked up working as one of Chross’ laborers in the mines, and Jinx had never divulged her history.
She remembered first telling Isha about Ekko. It was one of their early days and Sevika said something or other about how Jinx couldn’t hide away forever, something or other about how she would be found sooner or later, something about did she really want to bring a kid down with her?
After Sevika had left, Jinx looked consideringly at Isha, gnawing on her lip. She remembered calling her over.
“Hey, kid, have you ever heard of the Firelights?” she asked. When Isha shook her head, she swallowed tightly. She reached behind herself for a piece of paper and drew the hourglass symbol on it, holding it out to Isha. “What about this, have you seen this?”
Isha nodded that time and Jinx felt a small weight lift from her shoulders. “Good,” she nodded. “Good… okay, listen up: if I ever tell you to go and find the Firelights, you do it, okay?” Isha looked alarmed at that, shaking her head but Jinx cut her off.
“I’m being serious,” she said. “If you wanna stay here, that’s the only rule, alright?” A bluff, but Isha didn’t need to know that. “Even if I don’t tell you; if you ever get lost or find trouble and I’m not there, you look for the Firelights.” Jinx swallowed, tongue darting out to wet her lips. She knew that the Firelights took kids in from off the streets, gave them protection, a safe place to grow up. Even if word got out that Isha had been running with Jinx, she felt secure in the knowledge that they wouldn’t turn her away. Little Man was a bleeding heart, he’d tried to save her enough times. He wouldn’t leave the kid to be sullied by Jinx’s reputation.
“Ask for someone named Ekko, you hear me? He has white hair and dark skin,” she said. “He’ll look after you. He’s…” she trailed off, racking her brain to try and find the proper words, something that would endear Isha to listen. The words she settled on left a weird taste in her mouth. “Safe.”
Isha cocked her head, her hands forming one of the signs that Jinx had picked up.
A friend?
Jinx’s chest had a funny fluttering sensation. She swallowed again, nodding. “Yeah. He’s a friend.”
She’d drawn Isha a quick picture of Ekko later that same evening, a more concrete image than the feeble description Jinx had offered. That way Isha would be able to recognize Ekko if she ever truly needed him, though Jinx would rather die than let anything happen to her. The only way Isha would ever need the Firelights would be if Jinx was out of the picture.
As she sat in the tree now, her lips curled sardonically. She never imagined that the opposite would’ve been true. She returned her gaze to the spyglass, watched the three kids Isha kept hanging around with run up, cheeks flushed with childhood happiness.
“Hi, Isha!” one of the boys, Ajun, Jinx has come to learn, said, beaming at the girl. “Hi, Ekko!”
“Hey, Ajun,” Ekko grinned. “What’s up?”
“We were wondering if Isha could come and play with us,” the girl, Kiera said, rocking back and forth on her heels. Isha’s face lit up as she craned her neck to look at Ekko, and the spyglass almost fell out of Jinx’s grasp.
Isha was asking Ekko for permission the same way she asked Jinx. Asking the same way that she and Ekko would ask Vander and Benzo when they were tots, before they hit double-digits.
Her mind was blank as Ekko nodded. “Just check in for supper,” he said and then Isha was off, giggling alongside the other kids as the four of them took off. Jinx watched them go, something odd and on the verge of realization nudging the back of her mind. She shook her head harshly, derailing the thought. She didn’t want to deal with any epiphanies today, thanks. She watched Ekko watch Isha go off and made up her mind.
Jinx clipped her spyglass onto her waistband and cleared her throat. “Hey, space boy!”
Ekko startled and craned his neck, seeking her out. When his eyes landed on her, he laughed once. “Weird,” he said. “I didn’t think bluebirds agreed with Zaun air.” Jinx rolled her eyes at the joke.
“Hilarious,” she said. “I’m coming down. Catch me.”
Ekko’s eyes blew. “Catch—”
She pitched forward, letting herself fall, grinning when Ekko swore viciously, muscles tensing as he lurched forward. Shimmer made her something light as she fell and she barely felt the impact of landing in Ekko’s arms. Ekko swore again, muscles flexing as he adjusted to her weight, one arm under her legs and the other clutching her shoulders.
“Janna above,” he hissed, relief in his eyes betraying him. “You’re crazy.” Jinx threw her head back and laughed. Ekko’s grip tightened slightly. Jinx regained her wits, grinning as she patted him on the chest.
“Thanks for the save, Little Man.”
That brings her to here and now, unable to get Marin’s words out of her head when Isha comes home (and that’s a new development too, one that feels scarily natural in Jinx’s mind, that home is no longer the hideout or the Firelight base but Ekko’s room, with Isha’s tent in the corner and a drawer for both of them and three towels hanging in the bathroom and drawings on the walls). Ekko floated the idea earlier that morning of sending Isha along with the other children for the morning.
“School?” Jinx had asked incredulously. “You want to send Isha to school?”
“It’s not really ‘school,’” Ekko said.
“But Marin and the others teach them things. That’s the definition of a school.”
Ekko opened and closed his mouth. “Okay, yes, but—”
“Isha’s already smart,” Jinx argued.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Ekko said. “I know how smart she is. She was able to follow along when Heimerdinger talked about mobius strips in the other timeline. That’s not why I think it would be good for her; it’s just a place where she can be with the other kids, socialize and learn how to work alongside others.” Jinx wrinkled her nose.
“That sounds so uppity,” she groaned. “Whatever happened to figuring shit out on your own, like we did.”
“We weren’t on our own,” Ekko argued. “We had each other. Is it so bad to think that Isha might benefit from having someone her age to tinker and experiment with?”
That’s what ended up settling the argument, though Jinx remained grumbling (and no, Ekko, it was not just for show). She hadn’t anticipated how antsy she’d feel when they sent Isha off with Marin, though, something that Scar had found amusing, and was even more amused when Jinx threatened to turn him inside out if he didn’t wipe that stupid smirk off his face.
Ekko steered her away by the shoulders, Scar’s booming laugh echoing behind them as they left.
She and Ekko spent the morning in the workshop waiting for Isha to be done, him teaching her some of the hoverboard mechanisms, and Jinx returned back to Ekko’s room to wait after lunch, too wired to continue waiting in the workshop. Ekko wanted to come with but he was called away by someone or other, Jinx didn’t care to ask.
Needing to find something to distract herself, Jinx drags one of the bins of stuff from the hideout she hasn’t yet sorted through and digs through it, emerging with some fabrics and one of Silco’s old coats. It’s impossible to not notice the way that Isha likes to wear Ekko’s coat, no matter how much it drags her down, and Jinx has resolved to solve this issue once and for all. Having made Isha’s vest and a few of her other things, she lays the fabric out and starts cutting, her gramophone playing away at a respectable (read: boring) volume.
She’s only just started stitching the pieces together when the door bangs open and Jinx whips her head towards the door, needle held between her fingers as Isha practically bounces into the room, Marin on her heels and grinning just as broadly. She does a double-take when she sees Jinx but Isha lets out a little shriek of excitement when she notices that Jinx is working on a new sewing project.
“Oh, hello, Jinx,” Marin says. “I just wanted to walk Isha back to drop off her things.”
“Her things?” Jinx echoes, one brow raising as Isha inspects the coat she has in progress. The words jolt Isha back into action and she nods quickly, and it’s only then that Jinx realizes that Isha is holding a small stack of papers. “What’s this?”
“We drew pictures of our families,” Marin says, nodding as Isha shoves the top drawing into Jinx’s hand. “Isha was very zealous.”
“Yeah,” Jinx manages a grin. “That’s my little artist.”
Her grin doesn’t falter when she looks at the first drawing, but it does freeze. Her fingers come up to trace the lines before she’s even aware. It’s a split-page, a small paragraph at the top of the page in Isha’s developing scrawl and then a drawing of five six people.
Jinx’s eyes go to the drawing first. Isha is in the center. On her right is Jinx and Vi beside her, and on her left is Ekko, with Scar and Callus beside him. Innocent enough. Jinx might not have picked Scar and Callus for their ragtag family, unsure of why Isha would’ve included them, until she reads the paragraph.
She can hear the moment her breath catches, and maybe Marin can too, because she just sits in one of Ekko’s chairs and hums.
“We talked about family dynamics, today,” she says, voice light. “We get all sorts of families here, kids being raised by cousins, older siblings, or aunts and uncles. Part of education is learning how to familiarize the world we live in, and the way we do that here is explain what makes a family and how we would classify them. What sort of roles people can take. It’s all very subjective, and it always depends on how the child views their own family. We encourage them to define families on their own terms. Isha did very well.”
Jinx barely hears anything Marin says. Her eyes are still caught on Isha’s words—her own terms, some obviously supplied, some underlined to differentiate the familial role.
The people who take care of me are Jinx and Ekko. Jinx’s sister is Vi, she is my aunt. Ekko’s brother is Scar, he is my uncle. He has a son named Callus, he is my cousin.
Vi is Isha’s sister. Scar is Isha’s uncle. Callus is Isha’s cousin.
The words aren’t there but Jinx doesn’t need them.
Her voice is shaky. “Isha wrote this?”
“She did,” Marin nods. Jinx sucks in a breath. She wants, suddenly and violently, to press the paper into her chest, absorb it into her body and hold it in her heart. Isha is none the wiser, still enamored with the half-constructed coat Jinx has laid out on the ground. Jinx is thankful for it, she feels like an exposed nerve, holding onto this drawing and knowing that Marin is only feet away.
She’s grateful that Ekko isn’t here to see this, and thinking of him has her breath hitching again. The past week and a half flash through her head as she looks down at the drawing, Briar’s voice saying he’s different with Isha and that girl saying he’d be a good dad.
Her face feels like it’s on fire suddenly.
“Oh,” is all she can think to say. Marin hums. Jinx refrains from shoving her sewing needle into Marin’s eye. Her restraint is truly admirable, she feels. She clears her throat. “Looks good, Isha.” Her girl grins at her then, and it settles her somewhat.
Is this for me? She asks, a small, coy smile on her face as she looks from the coat back to Jinx.
“No, it’s for Ajun,” Jinx deadpans, then cracks a grin when Isha shoots her a dry look. “Of course it’s for you, who else?”
Can I try it?
“Not yet, stinker,” Jinx says, pushing Isha’s hat over her eyes and grinning at the small squawk she lets out. “I’m almost done, anyway. Just let me finish sewing it up and then we’ll take it out and paint it. That way you can properly match—” her heart skips a funny beat and has her stuttering over his name “—Ekko.” The very prospect has Isha lighting up and Jinx’s chest tightens slightly. Marin clears her throat, rising from her seat and catching Isha’s eye.
“What do you say I drop you off at Ekko’s workshop?” Marin asks Isha. “That way Jinx can finish her work in peace.”
Isha nods quickly, gives Jinx a parting hug and takes the drawing back, and then the two of them are sweeping out just as quick as they’d swept in, leaving Jinx once again alone. She can only blink for a moment. Then she turns red as a tomato and scowls, returning to her sewing with harsh jabs of the needle, her blush only deepening as she works at Isha’s coat—Isha’s miniature version of Ekko’s coat.
It reminds her all too well of the way Vi would wrap her arms to look like Vander, the way that Jinx stole Silco’s belts to weld her own together and her face burns.
She can’t begrudge Isha her idolization of Ekko.
(Sometimes girls just want to take after their fathers.)