Chapter Text
A chisel digs into the soft metal of a medallion, small silver flakes left in its wake. The light of a table lamp is focused onto it, a magnifying glass enhancing the image. It’s delicate work that requires patience and precision, one wrong move and he can start over. A black leather band lies on the table next to him, a ring attached to the front awaiting the medallion.
At first, he had chosen a thin and elegant strap but then decided on a chunkier model, a bit of thickness to it. He had taken particular care that it’s supple and smooth, that it breathes along with the wearer, that it can withstand heat and moisture -that she can wear it all day without issue.
Just one more line and… he’s done. He puts the chisel down and takes up a cloth, polishing the silver to a shine. So that it can catch the light, twinkle in the sun, there for all to see -she’d like that. A smile blooms on his lips, a private thing just for him -he wants her to.
She had mentioned wanting one a couple of weeks ago, a passing remark while they lay sweaty and breathless on rumbled sheets. She had whispered it against his still hot skin, didn’t mean for him to hear it, hoping that he would -insecure.
It has been stuck in his mind ever since, thoughts taking him back to that moment over and over. He just can’t let it go, can’t let go of what it would mean for them.
It's been about two years since she blew up the council that fateful night. Two years since war and rebellion had swallowed the city up whole. It's been half a year since the fighting had finally stopped -peace, at last. A treaty was signed, new laws written down, plans set into motion and one became two -the nation of Zaun birthed from the ashes of a generation.
It's been two years since he found her on those streets, bleeding out, a heartbeat away from death. Two years since they’ve shared that moment, a first for both of them. Two years since they’ve entered a shaky alliance, two years since their relationship was resurrected. He had agreed to help her, to fight at her side, fight together for their city, their home.
Of course, such an offer had not come without conditions. Her wanton killing had to stop immediately, he would not tolerate her taking any more of his people, no matter how much his traitorous heart still yearned for her -he would put her in the ground himself.
Naturally, his people weren’t as forgiving as him, only worked together out of necessity. She had been that bastard’s favourite, after all, had a lot of inside knowledge and old connections they could use. He did not blame them, he does not. He would never expect them to forgive and forget, never demand that of them.
But he… he was different, is different. He could never let her go, could he?
Their relationship those past two years has been… turbulent. A constant up and down, give and take. Calling them friends-with-benefits would be a disservice to what they were, it was never just about the sex. And somehow… they worked through it and managed to make it to the other side. It took a while but in the end… he forgave her -forgave but never forgot, he owed them that much.
Yet, they might have weathered the storm but the clouds still hang heavy in the sky.
He might have forgiven her but she has not, not truly. Help is what she needed, desperately. Help he couldn’t offer her. She had rejected it at first, furious he would even suggest such a thing, but then she had warmed to it until she finally considered it. It's been a month since she started seeing someone. Told him that she doesn’t like going, that it makes her feel weak and vulnerable. Yet, she still went, for him. Maybe it will help her… or maybe it won’t. She’ll never know if she doesn’t try.
Knowing what he knows now, much of the things she’s done in those long, long years have made a lot more sense. He had been glad, glad even if it sounds wrong. Glad that the reason she became the embodiment of his worst nightmares was because she’s sick, sick not evil. Not a monster incapable of redemption, unworthy of forgiveness, but a very broken girl, a girl who needed help long ago. Help Silco never gave her.
They don’t talk about him, the subject touchy, can’t see eye to eye on it. To her he had been a father, her saviour in her moment of weakness, someone to make her strong, make her worthy. But to Ekko he had been a scheming rat, a despicable waste of air, the root of all their problems. The only thing he deserved was a knife in the back, a bullet to the heart.
She claims that he loved her and perhaps she's right, perhaps his shrivelled, tainted heart truly did love her. But there was nothing loving about their relationship. Two twisted people that only made each other worse, made each other dependent, unable to exist without the other.
There is a moment when a child stops being a child and a parent stops being responsible for their every decision, there is a moment when you have to start taking responsibility for your own actions, for yourself.
He is unsure when that moment had been reached with Jinx, when it wasn’t Silco to blame anymore, but her. He does, however, know that he did not blame Powder, does not blame her. Hadn't blamed her for years after she betrayed him. There is a special place in hell for men like Silco, men who take a child and corrupt and twist it into something utterly wrong just to fit their own image.
Is a monster born or made, do you think?
He takes the leather band into his hand and works the medallion into the ring, grabs a pair of tweezers to ensure it’s secure and then... he’s finished. A perfect little collar just for her.
He’s nervous, truth be told, terrified, honestly, to give it to her. What if she doesn’t like it? What if she doesn't want it? What if he misheard, misunderstood?
What if she loves it? What then? Where do they go from there? What would be next for them? The next chapter in their lives? One without the pain and the anger, the fighting and the bloodshed. One where they could simply… be? Just two fools in love.
Heat travels up his neck, his palms sweaty. She did say it, didn’t she? She-
-the door to his workshop slams open with a bang, the hinges groaning and the walls shaking.
“Ekko!”
A body comes flying through the door frame, long, long braids trailing after her -he fumbles with the collar and almost drops it, then hides it under a stack of papers.
“J-Jinx.”
She jumps into his lap and knocks the breath right out of him.
“Oof!”
“Ekko, Ekko! Listen-”
One of her braids slaps him in the face, hair stuck to his lips, spluttering and talking around it.
“I told you not to do that!”
She’s bounce, bouncing on his lap, the chair creaking underneath them. “Do what?”
He gestures to the door. If she unhinged it again-
“Nevermind that!” She grabs his face between her palms -why are they sticky?! “Listen! Listen! You know what today is?”
He looks at the calendar on his wall.
“Eh… Tuesday?”
Fingernails scrape along his skin as she yanks his face this and that way -seriously, why are they sticky?!
“No, you silly! It’s piss-off-Vi-while-she’s-on-a-date-with-her-stupid-Enforcer-girlfriend-day!”
He pries at her fingers and drags them off his face -is that glue?! Not again…
“Isn’t that every day?”
A hand manages to escape his and plops onto his head, into his hair. No! Not the hair!
“Precisely! So, chop chop! Can’t be late for our date!”
She jumps out of his lap and takes her hands with her -then stops, glue-smeared fingers sticking to his locs.
“Ow! Ow, ow, ow. Stop! Stop moving!”
He tries to get her fingers out of his hair without ripping it out. Not his hair! His beautiful hair!
“Why is your hair sticking to my hand?”
He groans and holds onto her for dear life lest she rips it out, blindly fumbling behind him on the desk, searching for something, anything to save his glorious hair. Seriously, why the hair?! Couldn’t she have stuck to his chin instead?! At least then he wouldn’t have to shave tomorrow!
“Can you hurry up there? We got things to do! Mayhem awaits!”
Yep, it’s Tuesday alright.
________________________________________________________________________________
Ekko works a hand through his hair, worrying at a sore spot at the back of his head. It took half an hour to get her hand out of his hair without ripping it out, and in the end, she still took some stray hairs with her.
That’s it, she’s lost glue privileges! Gotta baby-proof the whole base, first thing tomorrow!
Jinx, who’s currently sitting on the ground in their courtyard, is sorting through their art supplies, sulking. Hadn’t even put the caps back on! Does she think glue just grows on trees?! Well, it kind of does… but that's beside the point!
“What did I tell you about cleaning up after yourself?!”
A bottle of glue flies through the air, flies towards a box -and misses, rolling and rolling then stopping in a patch of grass.
“Dunno, wasn’t paying attention.”
Ekko stomps towards the bottle, yanks it off the ground and slams it into the box.
"Obviously not!”
“Hmph.” Another bottle flies through the air -he catches it and throws it into the box.
“Don’t you “hmph” me!”
"Hmph!" She sticks out her tongue at him and throws another bottle -three-pointer.
He stomps back towards her, legs bumping into her side, and glares.
"Tell me, Jinx, how old are you again?"
“Old enough for your fat co-”
A hand slaps over her mouth, eyes darting around. Blossom is sitting on a nearby bench, thumb stuck in her mouth and curiously watching them.
Nervous chuckles tumble out of the man, just now noticing the little Vastayan girl -Scar would kill him.
Something wet presses into him, a tongue flicking at his palm. A shiver runs up his spine and he releases her mouth.
"Eww, don't be gross!"
“You weren’t complaining last night when I-”
The hand slaps back over her mouth, fingers digging into her cheeks and squeezing it shut.
“I swear, if you don’t shut up I’m gonna make you eat these bottles!”
She bites into the meat of his palm and another shiver runs up his spine, tingles at the base of his skull.
“Kinky.”
He groans, shakes her face once, twice and then lets go, steps away. “Clean up your mess.”
She sighs, gives up and does as she’s told.
“Yes, daddy.”
“Nope. Just... nope.”
Don’t get him wrong, he loves her potty mouth but that one’s just weird. Maybe something to talk with her therapist about.
And as Jinx finally cleans up the mess she’s created the high voice of a child demands his attention.
“Tuff Tuff.” Blossom clambers down from her bench and waddles over to him, stuffed toy clutched in her little hands.
Ekko meets her halfway and crouches down, dusting over her clothes -there’s a grass stain on her knee that’ll be hard to wash out.
“What’s up, little bug?”
She has taken to calling him that after listening to Jinx one too many times. Honestly, he'd rather she didn’t, considering in which context his girl likes to use that particular pet name. But kids be kids, what can you do?
She thrusts her toy into his chest. A little bat with a green bow around its neck -Jinx had made it for her. Scar hadn’t been all too pleased about that. Barely tolerating their former enemy yet unable to take it away from his little girl. She fell in love with it immediately and Blossom makes a big softie out of her Papa.
“Hmm? You want me to have that?”
She shake, shakes her head, small braids swinging back and forth.
“You’re supposed to give her something in exchange.”
Jinx calls from her place on the ground, glue neatly tucked away into the box.
“Give her something?”
She nods, gets up and rummages around in their art supplies, then crouches down next to them with paper and crayons in her hands.
“Yeah. She gives you Barney for a few hours, you add some new, exciting stuff to him, while she draws something for you.”
Jinx takes the stuffed bat from the little girl’s hands and places the paper and crayons in them -tugging on her braids affectionately. The girl grins, all sharp and pointy teeth, and runs off.
Ekko stares at the woman next to him, something old and forgotten hop, hopping inside his heart, a dream he buried long ago.
“I didn’t know you spend that much time with her.”
Barney lies securely in her hands, gently stroking over his pointy ears.
“It gets boring when you’re holed up inside your little playhouse all day, and I can make only so many paint bombs before that becomes dull, too.”
Has he been spending that much time inside the workshop? There’s just so much work, so much on his plate. Over the past two years, the Firelight base has grown from just a little hideout of a meddlesome street gang into an actual small village with over a hundred people.
After the split into Piltover and Zaun, the Firelights had remained a neutral third party, governed by no one but themselves. Of course, some politicians didn't like that demand, at all. But, let's just say, the Firelights can be rather... convincing.
He takes a look around them. There’s usually quite the hubbub at this hour, a lot of people crossing through the square, but there’s hardly anyone here right now. He can make out a group sitting under one of their newly planted trees, whispering amongst themselves and occasionally glancing their way. The curtains in one of the homes close when he looks in that direction, the fabric fluttering from the sudden speed.
He looks back at the woman next to him, knees in the grass and shoulders drooping, stuffed toy limp in her hands and eyes downcast.
His heart aches, it aches for her.
They might tolerate her between their midsts but they don’t accept her, don’t see her as one of their own. He can’t even be mad at them, many have lost loved ones to Silco, to her. The fact that they tolerate her at all is a small miracle.
She must feel so lonely. The only person on her side is he. A fact that has earned him many an earful over those two years. How could he have been so stupid? So naive? Trust her? You might as well trust a tiger not to bite your head off when you turn your back on it. It’s in their nature, no amount of wishing otherwise will change that! You might starve them to be obedient, abuse them to be afraid, fatten them up to become stupid, but once the animal sees a chance, once instinct calls, it will kill you.
At first, she had spent her nights somewhere in the Undercity, making him sick with worry, lying awake each night wondering where she is, if she’s safe. Then one day she simply appeared, face-down on his bed and kicking her feet in the air as if it was the most mundane thing ever. One night had turned into two then three and then she had simply stayed, worming her way into his home like she did with his heart.
What would have happened to her if he hadn’t extended her that olive branch that day? What if she hadn’t taken it? Would she still be alive today? Would he?
And yet… His eyes fall onto the little stuffed toy in her hands. Where the adults have shunned her, the children have taken quite a liking to her. It would seem Jinx is rather good with kids. No wonder, really, she acts like one most of the time, after all.
“Hey.” He bumps his shoulder into hers and takes her hands into his.
“What?” Mumbled and void of her usual exorbitant energy.
“You know what day today is?”
She stiffens, then looks up at him from under her lashes, life creeping back into her eyes. “Tuesday?”
“Get the paint.” He stands, still holding onto her hands. “We’re gonna fuck some shit up.”
________________________________________________________________________________
Paint squirts from the canister, the glass panel covered in shapes of greens and oranges. He shakes the spray paint, then adds more details to the piece, colour drip, dripping down his fingers. He’s going for something messy, freestyling his way through, letting art do the work for him. Music is booming from the little music box Jinx hauled along, the rap pushing him deeper and deeper into his flow -it’s not like anyone can hear it up here… probably.
“Throw me the black, will ya?”
A canister comes soaring through the air -he catches it, eyes still trained on the glass before him. He moves and tries to get a better angle, boots scraping over the stone beneath him and pushing away the dirt, particles raining down, down, down. They're still falling by the time he’s changed positions again.
He rubs a bare arm over his forehead, taking with it sweat and leaving behind streaks of green. The sun is hitting him directly in the face, has to squint his way through. Can’t it shine, like, anywhere else right now? You’re messing with my vibe.
He hears a deep, deep sigh from his left and glances over, finding Jinx leaning against a clock handle, the thing stuck on 42, unable to push past.
“You’re so sexy right now.”
He lifts a brow and his lips tug up into a smirk, finishing the line he had been working on while holding her gaze.
“Gimme one of your bombs.”
She’s looking at him all wide-eyed as the paint bomb comes rolling over. He takes it, pulls the pin and lets it drop over the edge. One, two –BOOM!!! Pinks and blues splash against the side of the clock tower.
Her breath catches and she bites her bottom lip, fingers clutching onto her top.
"Take me. Take me now.” Plea a breathy exhale.
He chuckles and tugs on one of her braids once, twice -greens on blues. “I’ll think about it.”
“What’s there to think about, loverboy?”
She spreads her knees, pants hugging her skin tightly, and twirls a strand of hair around a dainty finger.
“You’re hot, I’m hot, let’s melt each other.”
A boot presses into his thigh, her eyes half-lidded, body stretching and toned stomach calling to him.
Ekko closes his eyes for a moment and tries recollecting his thoughts. Yeah, what’s there to think about, loverboy? Why not just do it? You know you want to.
But then he remembers the backpack resting on the stone next to him, the gift he had put inside. No, they can have sex any day but this, this he wants to, needs to do now. Now or else he’ll lose his nerve.
“Didn’t you say something about pissing off your sister?”
And just like that her mood changes, arousal fleeting.
“Shit! I almost forgot!”
She scrambles up from her seat against the clock hand, stuffs her hand into her backpack, wriggle, wriggles about and pulls out a looking glass. Then she scoots forward, legs dangling over the edge of the clock tower and looking glass pressed against an eye. Her tongue peeks out between her lips and she cackles to herself.
“Now, where are you, Fat Hands? Here fatty, fatty~ Come get your treaty treat.”
Ekko puts the paint away, lowers the music and sits down next to her. He pulls his backpack towards himself and looks for something to clean his hands with. Wouldn’t want her gift to get dirty, after all.
“This should be enough to get her attention, no? That dumb Sheriff of hers wouldn’t let this slide, right? Bet she couldn’t. No appreciation for art that one, no colour in her life. Fifty shades of grey is as exciting as it gets for her.”
After the war ended and a fragile peace was achieved, the two sisters managed to follow in kind. Yet, even though they aren’t trying to kill each other anymore their relationship has been forever changed.
At first, Vi had joined the Enforcers out of desperation, a way to get to her sister before anyone else could. After that plan had failed she fell into a long bout of depression, having lost the will to carry on. But in the end, she pushed through, Kiramman helping her to the other side. She had decided to stay with law enforcement then, wanting to help improve things from the inside out and change the system for the betterment of all.
It was this decision that solidified the rift between the sisters. Jinx never did like Caitlyn and she’s not planning on starting any time soon.
Can’t say he cares much for Enforcers, either.
“Bet they just flop around like dying fish gasping for air when they fuck.”
A shiver runs through her, the looking glass dropping from her eye for a moment.
“Eww, now I’m imagining it.”
Ekko turns his hands this and that way, searching for any stray splotches of paint. Finding none he nods, satisfied. He turns his attention back to the gift burning a hole into his backpack, fingers closing around it.
Stop being such a sissy, you can do this! It’s just a collar… just a collar.
“Uh! What’s that?!”
Jinx is vibrating in her seat, looking glass pressed tightly against her skin.
“Is that-?!”
She stops squirming, shoulders slumping.
“Nah, just a bird.”
Ekko takes a deep breath, counts one, three, six, nine, ten and takes out a small box.
Okay, okay… here goes nothing.
“Jinx?”
“Hmm?”
She's not looking at him, still searching the city below, searching for that telltale red.
“Can you look at me for a second?”
She swivels and looks at him through her looking glass.
“Hmm?”
Ekko presses a hand against it, pushing it out of his face.
“Put that down for a moment.”
“But… why?”
“Have something for you.”
She notices the box in his hands and gasps- “Uh! Presents?!” -throws the looking glass somewhere behind her -”I love surprises!” -and scoots closer, legs bumping into his.
He smiles, a palm coming to rest on her bouncing leg.
“I know.”
He clears his throat and gathers his courage while holding her still next to him lest she throw them both off the building.
“You remember that night?”
Fingers drawing shapes into her thigh.
“Which night?”
“The one when we- After we-”
The heck is wrong with him?! He’s not a twelve-year-old boy afraid to hold a girl's hand anymore! Hers, she was that girl.
Suddenly, a hand rests on top of his, holding him, grounding him -he hasn’t realised he's trembling.
He can do this, he can!
“That night you told me you wanted me to give you something.”
“Yeah, gotta be a bit more specific than that. I want you to give me a lot of things all the time.”
He pinches her thigh.
“Let me finish.”
She presses her lips together then, mouth shut.
He sighs and fiddles with the box.
“When you said you wanted… wanted to have a collar.”
She stiffens, back straightening and whole body tense.
“W-What? D-Did I say that?” Nervous chuckles tumbling out of her.
He nods. He hadn’t imagined it, didn’t misunderstand… did he?
“Yeah, you did.”
He opens the box. She gasps.
“Been working on it for days.”
She reaches for it with trembling fingers- “Ekko…” -then stops, unsure. “C-Can I?”
“Of course. It’s yours, after all.”
She takes it into her hands, slowly and carefully, and examines it. Then she notices the medallion, the hourglass etched into it, the line that he left unfinished -an opening, a decision made.
Her lips wobble and her eyes twinkling stars.
“Y-You don’t think it’s weird?” Voice heavy with emotion.
He tilts his head, confused.
“Weird? Why would it be weird?”
Fingers rub over the soft leather, eyes follow the movement.
“That I’d want a collar?… To be collared?” Her eyes meet his. “To be owned?”
He presses into her, shoulder to shoulder, hand finding hers again.
“No, I don’t think that’s weird. And if it is, well… guess that makes me a freak, too.”
“But-”
“Jinx.” Forehead to forehead, earth-browns on neon-pinks, looking, seeing -reflected. “I… I love you, and… and I want the whole world to know that you’re mine.”
Lips on lips, brushing, teasing -a promise of more to come.
“That I’m yours.”
“Ekko…”
A tear escapes her, then another and then he catches the next, thumb brushing against the thin skin under her eyes, stroking her cheek.
“I-I love you, too.”
They nuzzle into each other, soft kisses pressed against shaking lips, hands holding each other tight, tight, tight.
Reluctantly, they break apart. Then Jinx gathers her braids in her hands and throws them over her shoulder, exposing her bare neck to him.
“Put it on for me?”
Ekko takes the collar from her and opens the clasp.
He had considered adding a lock to it and holding onto its key. But he wanted her to always have a choice, to decide for herself if she wanted it on or not without having to ask for his permission. It just didn’t feel right for them.
He presses a kiss against her nape, baby hairs tickling his nose, and lingers for a moment, breathing her in. Gun powder and spray paint, the faint trace of something flowery, something sweet.
She’s sitting perfectly still when his arms come up in front of her, she giggles when he tickle, tickles her chin, and then she holds her breath when the leather meets her throat.
Carefully and ever so gently does he place it around her neck, does he close it -secure.
She lifts a hand to it, touch soft and barely there. Then she turns around, a watery smile shining radiant on her beautiful, beautiful face.
Emotion stuck in his throat, butterflies fluttering inside his chest -he pulls her close. Hearts beating in sync with the clock of the tower behind them.
Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock. Their timelines, they’ve merged. Sands twinkling on the same beach, returning to the same ocean. One became two, two became one –their hourglass of destiny, love eternity.
He doesn’t want to believe it, feels too good to be true. He wants to believe it, feels too good to be wrong. After all these years, all the betrayal and fighting, all the tears and pain, after all this time, together.
When all you’ve known is suffering, to be beaten down over and over no matter how many times you get back up. When you’ve given up on life, on yourself, to suddenly find that light again, to be given a second chance, a lifeline thrown down into that pit in the earth, that pit dug by your own design. You cannot believe it, you cannot accept it, foreign, must be a lie. To take that step, to move beyond the trauma, to live and hope once more, to give up the easier choice.
To live is to suffer, to survive is to find meaning in it. No matter how terrible the night, dawn will always come.
And as they sit there on that clock tower, holding onto each other with hope alive in their hearts a voice calls out to them.
“JINX!!!”
Jinx’s head shoots up, breaking free of their hug and espying that telltale red running over the rooftops of Piltover, running towards them.
“FAT HANDS!!!”
She jumps up, takes a paint bomb into her hands, aims, pulls the pin and- ”You’re fucking late!” -throws it.
And Ekko just sighs when the two sisters fling themselves at each other.
It’s Tuesday alright.