Archive of Our Own ^beta

You didn’t have anyone.

You were looking for company.

The Last Drop was loud and rowdy- just as you’d expected of a bar. Although you didn’t go to many very often.

You pushed through the crowd, resisting the urge to shrink in on yourself and instead holding your head high, setting your jaw. You’d made it to the counter, and you firmly planted your hands on the wood, pushing yourself forward to catch the bartender’s attention.

The burly man looked at you, and came over. You had to raise your voice to be heard.

“I- uh…” you looked around, words suddenly lost.

“What’ll it be?”

“Silco…”

The bartender stared at you. “What?”

You pursed your lips. “I’m looking for Silco. Would he happen to be here? By any chance?”

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t tell me he had a lady friend.”

“A lady- what? No, I’m just an acquaintance. Is he here?”

The bartender shook his head, letting out a chuckle which was drowned out by the din of the bar. “He’s a close friend of mine. I can tell him you were looking for him tomorrow. Any message you want to relay?”

You thought for a moment. “…Not really. Although-“ A smoke on the rooftop would be nice. “I’d rather talk to him myself, actually.”

The bartender raised his eyebrow without another word, and nodded. “He always hangs around here in the afternoon. Has nothing better to do with his time, the man,” he joked. You made yourself laugh, and thanked him.

You squared your shoulders. “And while I’m here, I suppose I might as well get something. So, uh… gin and tonic, please. Without the gin.”

The man looked at you rather askance at your peculiar request, but didn’t say anything as he served up a glass of tonic. You smiled thinly, looking around at the establishment as he wiped down a glass.

“So how do you know Silco?” He asked you.

You turned your head towards him. You didn’t expect him to start conversation. He looked at you with a glance of curiosity.

“I don’t,” you say. He frowned.

“So how come you’re asking for him?”

“Well, I mean- I do know him. We met yesterday.” You took a sip of the tonic, and it took  the bartender a moment to realise you weren’t planning on elaborating. “How do you know him?”

“He’s pretty much my brother,” the bartender said simply. He extended a hand, and you shook it. “I’m Vander.”

You nodded slowly. “…Vander.” You thought for a moment. “I’m [name].”

“Nice meeting you. Stop by at four tomorrow, will ya?” He watched as you downed your cup and set it on the counter, tossing him the money and nodding.

With that, you left the Last Drop.

-

You found Silco sitting on the steps outside the Last Drop at four in the afternoon the next day. He looked up at you, and you raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Silco!” You gasped. “Oh, uh, what are you doing here?”

A languid sweep of his hand brushed the hair out of his eyes. “You asked for me.” He said, voice sounding bored. But there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

You scoffed, shuffling your feet. “Hardly asked.”

“You were looking for me.”

“You told me to stop by!”

He stood up, dusting off his clothes. “Indeed I did. Lonely, are you?”

“As I’ve said already,” you muttered, following him as he made his way through the street. Before long you’d both found yourself on a rooftop, a cigarette in between you.

“Who’s Vander?”

“He’s like my brother.”

Wow. 

“Right.” You looked out across the streets. “Did your… business from last night get…resolved?”

He nodded, a small smirk playing at his lips as he thought back. “It did.”

“And you're sure it wasn’t a prostitute.”

He scoffed, as you giggled at his reaction. “I’m sure.” He turned to watch you laugh, back pressed against the rusted tin as you laid back, and blew a steady stream of smoke into the air.

And then he sighed.

This became a usual routine. One or the other of you would find each other on the rooftop, and would sit there talking until one person had to leave. He wasn’t half bad company, you realized. And sitting there against the sky and smoke felt nice. It was nice to have someone to talk to for reasons other than necessity or business.

One day on a walk home from an errand, the dark blue of the night sky creeping behind the clouds, you heard whimpering from an alleyway. You froze, unsure of what to do. Run? Stay? The sniffling picked up, descending into sobs. 

You burst into the alley.

A little girl, scraped and bloodied, stared at you with wide glassy eyes. You looked back at her.

“What’s your name?” You asked gently, crouching down and wiping the tears and dirt from her bruised face.

“Alice,” she choked out. You felt a tug at your heart, a painful wrench that was hard to ignore. You swallowed a lump. 

“What happened, Alice?”

“Th-they… my mommy…” she started trembling again, and you exhaled slowly, hushing her. “They took her.”

“What about your daddy?” You whispered, carding your fingers through her mousy brown hair.

She raised her head. You followed her gaze.

Piltover.

You lip curled in disgust. Some Piltie must have had an affair with a trencher- a Zaunite, and wanted to get rid of the evidence. No doubt. You gathered the girl in your embrace.

You could hardly support a child, let alone take one in…

“The men were following me,” she told you.

“Let’s go,” you replied. You could hardly support a child.

“Where?”

“Home.”

-

You found him perched on the roof, and climbed up to meet him.

“Silco!” You hissed. He looked at you, frowning at your expression as you collapsed in a heap next to him.

“What’s wrong?” He grabbed your shoulders, eyes welling with concern.

“Silco, there’s a girl. Her father’s from Piltover and they had her mother killed and they’re after her, and I found her and I have no idea what to do with her-“

“Shh, calm down.” He stopped your exhilarated rambling short, and leaned back, taking a moment to think. You watched him, unable to speak.

“Well, if you can’t raise her…”

“I’m not leaving her to die,” you said sharply.

He looked at you skeptically. “And what exactly will you do then? Can you even afford to raise a child?”

“I’ll figure something out.” You sounded unsure.

He looked at you tiredly. “[name]…”

“I’m not leaving her to die,” you said with finality.

He looked at you silently, then nodded. “I’ll… I’ll help where I can.”

You flushed. “You don’t have to.”

He took your hand, and shook his head. “We’re friends.”

You flushed deeper, and looked away, taking a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at you. “What?”

“I’m sorry, all you’ve ever done is help me and all I’ve done is… steal your cigarettes.”

At this he laughed, but one look at your face and he realized you were being serious. “It’s not like that.”

“But it is.”

He fell silent, and you knew he couldn’t deny what you had stated was the fact. But then he spoke. “You give me company.”

You laughed. “That’s it?”

“I don’t care about the enforcer chase, or the cigarettes. You know if I didn’t want to be around you I wouldn’t bother. So stop saying random shit and just…” he took a deep breath and dragged his hand across his face. “God, you’re insufferable sometimes.”

Despite the insult, your insides glowed, and you smiled. “Thank you, Silco.”

“Did you just hear me? I called you insufferable.” 

You nodded, still beaming. “Thanks.”

He scoffed, a small smile on his face. “You idiot.” He took out another cigarette, and, as usual, you held out your lighter. He looked at you, and passed you the lit cigarette to have first.

“And you’re sure you don’t consider me as charity work?” You said before a long drag of the cigarette. You passed it back to him, and he stared at you, confused.

“What? I- of course not.”

“Why are we here then?”

“You’re my friend. You were looking for me that day, remember?”

“You immediately decided we were going to…” you waved your hand around. “Whatever this is. Hanging out. What if I wanted something else?”

He rolled his eyes, blowing out some smoke. “What else would you want? I told you to come find me if you wanted company.” He jabbed the cigarette in your direction. “This is company. And I believe we just talked about this?”

You ignored his last comment. “Well, why are you keeping me company?”

He laughed. “You’re my friend. And I get bored too, you know.”

“You have Vander. I’m sure you have others.”

He suddenly looked at you piercingly. You squirmed. Had you said the wrong thing? But then he shook his head slowly, visibly relaxed. “Right, but none of them are…” he stopped himself, face turning slightly pink. “What I mean to say is, it’s nice to know some other people.”

You leaned close and gently prised the cigarette from his fingers, and he looked up at you. You grinned, then placed it in between your lips. Inhaled. Took it from your lips. Exhaled. He blinked as the smoke billowed in his face.

“Thanks,” you smiled. He looked away, miffed. 

“We won’t talk about this anymore.”

“‘Course.”

“You know my answer.”

“I do.”

Caring for Alice had proved harder than you’d expected. You needed places to leave her while you went out to run errands too- the enforcers had quit looking for her, assuming she was dead.

You’d grown closer to Vander too, and Felicia, through Silco. A day or two whining at the bar had resulted in Vander offering to keep her at the bar during the day.

You narrowed your eyes at him, swirling your straw around in your cup before taking a long sip. Felicia put her hand on your shoulder.

“It’s fine, [name]. Vander’s good with kids.” She flashed you a toothy grin. You slowly exhaled, not moving to shrug her hand off. You peered over the counter to see Alice with her back pressed to the inside of the bar, scribbling on a piece of paper.

“Fine, I guess. But don’t let her out.”

“You know it’s calm during the day. She’ll be fine.”

“Not a foot outside the building.”

Silco stepped out from the back, a book clutched in his hand. You looked at him, studying his face slowly. 

“How about you tell me.” You flicked your head towards him, and he raised an eyebrow. “Should I leave Alice here during the day?”

He grinned, and you could see his chipped tooth. “She’ll be fine here.”

That reassured you, and you quickly took another long sip from your drink.

So it was decided. While you went out to make whatever money you could, instead of locking Alice up in your tiny apartment you left her at the Last Drop, where Vander and Felicia would keep an eye on her.

You stood up, the barstool scraping, and went round to Alice. “Come on. It’s time to go home.” She stood up, handing you the crumpled piece of paper. It was a drawing of you both.

“This is lovely,” you cooed as you led her out of the bar, flashing the three a grateful smile as the door shut. And you took her home.

Over time you’d grown a maternal love for her. She kept your lonely self company, when Silco wasn’t around. And Felicia and Vander just weren’t the same. Seated in your cold apartment, you brushed through her tangled hair, shared a mediocre dinner, and went to bed.

Tangled in the sheets for warmth, she clutched your shirt. “Is mommy coming back?” She mumbled, half asleep yet still wide eyed. A sharp stab of guilt tore at your chest.

“No,” you whispered, and wrapped your arm around her, burying her into the crook of your neck. 

“Are you my mommy now?” Her voice was so small it broke your heart even more.

“Yes baby,” you reassured her. “You have me now.”

You both fell asleep.

-

“She thinks I’m her mother now.”

You took a drag of the cigarette, looking out over the rooftops. The sky was clear, azure blue hanging over you both like a blanket. Silco side-eyed you, reaching for the cigarette.

You turned and blew smoke in his face, making him recoil, and laughed at his face. He indignantly snatched the cigarette from you and took a flustered drag on it.

“Aren’t you?”

“Well I-“ you stared at him. “I don’t know. I guess I… stepped up.”

“Certainly,” he drawled, smoke wafting through the hair. You scooted closer to him and reached for the cigarette, fingers closing around his. He looked at you.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said quietly. “You’re sure she’s safe with Vander?”

He smiled softly, and let you take the cigarette from his hands. “I’m sure.”

“If anything happens to her, I’ll kill myself.”

The heavy words escaped you so easily you hardly noticed. Silco flinched, and put a hand on your knee, chuckling nervously.

“Please don’t.”

Your eyes flew to his hand. He snatched it away.

“Where have you been, Silco?” You asked, voice dropping low again. “I haven’t seen you in a week. And that hair-“ you moved to brush a lock of hair obscuring part of his face. “It’s getting in the-…”

He stared at you. “What?”

“Where did this come from?” You lightly poked the bruise, and he flinched, snapping his head away. “Silco.”

“You know people get into scrapes. It’s fine.”

“Right, but you don’t. And this looks bad.” Your fingertips traced down his cheekbone to the cut across his jaw.

“It’s fine, [name].” He grabbed your wrist. “I’m fine.”

“Just promise you’ll be safe.” You took a drag of the cigarette.

“Of course I do.”

You blew the smoke in his face and he frowned.

“Promise.”

He sighed, relenting. “I promise I’ll be safe.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder and offered him the cancer stick. “Good,” you hummed contentedly, feeling him tense then relax beneath your cheek as he gingerly plucked it from your fingers.

You weren’t sure if he was holding up on the promise.

Days after that he’d return with more bruises, or simply not show up at all. You would stay up on the roof until it was time for you to leave, and wouldn’t find him at the Last Drop either. Vander and Felicia were rather unhelpful considering his whereabouts, and he refused to speak of them. Another evening of waiting on the roof, he arrived late.

You sat up, watching him slightly shake as he dropped down next to you. His lip was split.

“Silco.” Your voice was strained.

“What?” He sounded slightly breathless. “I made it.”

“What are you getting yourself into?” Your voice shook, and he blanched, shocked at the genuine worry in your tone. “Tell me the truth.”

“[name], I…”

“Please. You promised me.”

After a long moment of studying your face, he sighed. “You can’t tell anyone, [name].” You circled your arms around his.

“I won’t,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“I… I’m a member of a-“ he cleared his throat. “Resistance group.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

“The Children of Zaun.”

He didn’t say anything more. You sat up straight, pulling away from him. “That’s it?” Your voice was a dangerous whisper. “That’s all you’ll tell me?”

“For your safety.” He sounded urgent. 

You stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. In truth, your heart was pounding with fear. For him. But then you nodded.

“Don’t die. If anything happens to you, I’ll kill myself.”

He seemed so sick at hearing those words you figured it would be enough to keep him cautious. 

“Now let me bum a cigarette.”

He relaxed, then chuckled, pulling out a pack. “You’ve bled me dry.”

“Don’t run dry then.” You watched as he placed one between his lips, and held out your lighter. He leaned into the flame. Pulled away. The lighter snapped shut. Inhaled. Moved the cigarette from his lips.

And blew the smoke in your face.

You coughed, shocked. “You- you bastard!”

But he was laughing.

You laughed too.

You leaned back into him. He let you.

“I know how much Zaun means to you,” you whispered. “I know you want a better place for the next generations.” You looked up at him, eyes saying one thing. But please be safe.

He stayed silent, looking back at you. And then he spoke softly. “Felicia’s pregnant.”

You sat up. “What?”

He grinned and nodded.

“Then- then who’s the father?”

“Connol.”

“Silco… this is…”

He looked at your unsure expression, and then held out the cigarette. “It’s good.”

You nodded. “It’s great.”

Silco and Vander had been getting into fights. 

You didn’t know how it had started, or why. You’d assumed it had to do with the resistance. At least none of them had gotten physical- but then again, how could you tell exactly where the bruises on both men came from? Your peaceful talks with Silco had turned into angry rants.

Both of you lying on the all-too familiar roof, you scooted closer to him, pressing your head into his shoulder. He did his usual motion- tense, relax, then melt into the touch- with the welcome addition of his hand flying to your head, fingers running through your locks. You let out an involuntary sigh.

“-and he just starts yelling. I don’t understand…”

You’d learned to half-tune out his rambling, staring at the sky.

“…and it clearly upsets Alice-“

You sat up straight, twisting your body to lean over him. “What?”

He looked up at you in surprise. “I said, it upsets Alice.”

Your hand was digging into his shirt, bunching up with fabric angrily. “How?” Your voice was stiff. His hand moved to your arm. 

“Nothing, she just… it gets loud sometimes…”

You almost hit Silco right then and there, and you could tell that he could tell. You scowled, eyes blazing as a torrent of admonishments poured from your mouth.

“You two better not fucking…”

“…it’s not…”

“…upsetting her over some stupid-“

“It’s not stupid- look I’m sorry…”

“You better be.” Breathing heavily, you ran your fingers through your hair. “I left her with Vander so she’d be safe, not so that she could witness you two having a screaming match.”

“Hardly screaming,” he muttered, trying to pull you back into his shoulder. You chuckled at the action.

“Someone wants cuddles.”

He pulled a face. “Cuddles?”

You laughed and smacked his shoulder. “Idiot,” you managed to force out in between giggles, and he watched you, unimpressed. He flinched as you buried your head back into the crook of his neck, still shaking with laughter. Relaxed. Melted into the touch.

“You’re an idiot.”

Your laughed subsided into comfortable silence. He broke it.

“I’m sorry. We’ll find a way to resolve this.” He was referring to him and Vander. “We shouldn’t be upsetting Alice.”

You hummed, simply nestling into him. You could feel his heart thumping. “Thank you.”

“The things I do for you, hm?”

You raised your head, lips just barely brushing his jaw, as he pulled out a cigarette and placed it in between his lips before looking at you expectantly. You produced your lighter and flicked it open, watching as he held the end of the cigarette over the open flame you held out for him.

The lighter snapped shut as he tipped his head back to take a drag, and blew the smoke to the sky. His other arm rested around you comfortably.

“The things you do for me,” you laughed breathlessly, resisting the urge to kiss him senseless.

-

The arguments had not stopped.

Not only had Alice mentioned them to you at home, but Felicia had voiced her concerns during the every-now-and-then moment she’d really have a proper conversation with you. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with them,” she’d whisper quietly. “They used to be really tight. And now…”

You didn’t press. It was a situation where you felt you weren’t welcome to meddle. So you took Alice home with nothing but a concerned purse of the lip, a sympathetic look, and a nervously quick-beating heart, stomach churning with dread.

Silco came to you less frequently, or maybe later than usual, usually in a sour mood. Despite his inconsistencies you stayed reliable, waiting for as long as he needed you to- even if he didn’t show up at all. If he did, his bad mood would lift within a few minutes. Surprisingly, he’d stopped talking about him and Vander’s arguments. And you no longer wanted to talk about them either.

Time passed. Felicia’s daughter was born. Things became more peaceful.

The sky has begun growing darker earlier, marking the beginning of winter. After another evening of Silco being a no-show, you slid off of the roof and made your way to the Last Drop.

The door creaking open, you frowned. It was almost empty, save for a frazzled looking Felicia trying to hush a baby in the corner. Panic started rising in your throat as you made your way to her.

“Felicia.” She looked up at you, and you say her face was twisted with worry. “Where is everyone?”

“Preparing.” Trying to hush Violet proved a futile task. You had to speak over her screams.

“Preparing for what? Where’s Vander? Why is Violet crying?”

Felicia screwed her eyes shut, and Violet’s meltdown subsided a little. “Nothing, just… there was an argument.”

You immediately dragged your hands across your face, stumbling back, immediately sick of what she was about to say. She ignored you and continued, shaking.

“They were both storming out when I got here. Everyone else is preparing for the uprising on the bridge.” Her voice dropped low. 

You whirled around and slammed your hands on the bar top, making her flinch. “What uprising?”

“There’s going- there’ll be an uprising on the bridge, soon.”

“And no one told me about this?” You were seething. Violet screeched louder, and you turned violently, putting your hands over your ears as Felicia shakily shushed her. 

“You aren’t part of the resistance. Heck- you’re barely even part of the Lanes.”

At her words you had to fight to keep the fury from bubbling over. Charging towards her, you grabbed her shoulders tight, nails digging into her skin.

“Where the fuck is Alice.”

“I don’t know,” she choked out. At this, you left out a muffled, terrified scream, swallowing it with the back of your hand.

“She isn’t meant to go outside,” you whispered, your hands sliding across your face to cover your mouth. Felicia looked at you, confused and scared. At your sudden silence even Violet had stopped making any noise, instead burying herself into her mother’s embrace.

“Why not? I mean, you were pretty adamant about it, but you never told us why,” she said carefully. 

You tore your hands from your face. “Because the enforcers could be looking for her!”

Felicia looked at you in shock.

Tears welled in your eyes as your hands shook. “She can’t go outside alone yet.”

Felicia didn’t say anything, just wrapped her hands further around Violet and curled over. You didn’t say anything back; your heavy, frantic footsteps echoed around the empty bar and the door slammed as you left to go search for your daughter.

The crowd in the street was heavy, and all going in one direction- towards the bridge. You pushed through, eyes frantically scanning the crowd. You knew you wouldn’t find her there, however. Passer-bys conversations drifted in and out of your ears.

“…commotion with the enforcers. I hope this won’t affect the rising…”

You turned and grabbed the woman by the shoulder. She looked at you in shock.

“What commotion?” You hissed. She didn’t say anything, frozen to the spot, when a man came and prised your hand off of her and pointed in a certain direction.

“They say they saw enforcers attacking a child,” he said gravely, “Just the street before the river.”

He didn’t have to say any more. You turned and fled.

This part of the undercity was more quiet. You marked the rushing of water- and remembered the first time you’d met Silco.

You could hear heavy breathing.

Enforcer masks.

Small whimpers.

Alice’s voice.

Panic and anger surged through you as you burst into the street.

“Let go of her!” You screamed.

The enforcer grabbed the back of your neck, shoving you into the wall. The second he released you, you lunged towards Alice, grabbing her and drawing her close. She was completely battered.

“Why are you doing this to her?” You cried, covering her ears. “She’s a child.”

The enforcer looked at you. “And who exactly are you?”

“I took her in,” you said fiercely, holding the shaking girl tighter. The Pilties looked at each other, and you recoiled, knowing you’d said the wrong thing. 

“You took her in, knowing that she was being chased by the law. You harboured a wanted child.” His voice was even.

“Child,” you gasped. “She’s a child.” You clasped your hands together. “Look, I-I didn’t know. Please just let her be-“

A kick rammed you against the wall. You lost grip on Alice, who was dragged up by the second officer. The first one grabbed you and put his hand over your eyes.

“Kill the girl,” he said.

“N-!” You opened your mouth to scream but he clamped his hand over your mouth. From in front of you, a simple crack, whimper, then a thud. You went limp. He dropped you to the floor, and you blinked blearily, shaking. Alice’s body lay before you.

You cursed under your breath, scrambling towards her, unaware of the eyes watching you.

“Leave her,” the mask-muffled voice said. “We got rid of what we needed to.” He looked up. “We’re needed at the bridge.”

Their heavy footsteps left the street, fading around the corner as you silently sobbed, shoulders shaking. Gathering Alice in your arms, you brushed her hair from her face.

“No,” you whispered. “No.” Your hand was warm at the back of her head, and when you withdrew it it was covered in blood. The word Alice said was barely audible. 

“Mom.”

This broke you, and you descended into a whirl of sobs. “No, no no no no.”

You didn’t know for how long you cried- you just knew it was well past the time you daughter grew cold in your arms. Ran dry of tears, you could feel unconsciousness calling you.

Another set of heavy footsteps down the street- only one person this time. You barely regarded it as you slipped into the darkness, curled over the corpse of one of the only two people you cared about.

Your eyes felt glued shut as you peeled them open, blearily blinking around at your surroundings. You were on a sofa, red and pink lights piercing through your eyelids. Hushed clamour rose from behind the beaded curtains.

“Babette?” Your voice was raspy, your throat was sore.

Babette peered over you with tired eyes. “You’re awake,” she sighed, and you struggled to sit up. Your limbs were aching.

“I’m in the brothel?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Why…”

“He found you passed out in the street, [name],” Babette said gently. You looked at her, confused.

And then it all clicked together.

You shot upright. “Alice.” Your voice choked, and she grabbed your shoulders, trying to wrestle you down. “Where is she?”

“[name],” sit down. Her voice was fierce, yet her face was pleading. You shakily relented, watching her take a deep breath, unsure of how to break the news to you. 

“He found her with you… she was…” she trailed off, and looked away.

“Who’s he?”

“Vander.” This question was easier for her to answer. You looked at her.

“Alice is dead.” You stared at your lap. “Isn’t she.” It wasn’t a question. Babette nodded, still not looking at you.

Which is why she flinched so hard when you screamed.

-

The entire brothel fell silent at your blood-curdling cry of despair. Babette had you led out. “I’m sorry, [name],” she said softly. It was clear the guilt was eating her away, but it was also clear she had no idea what to do with you. “You’re… you’re affecting business.”

You couldn’t have been more furious as the door slammed shut, and pulled your bloodied jacket around you, looking around the street. Tears streaked down your face, salt burning on your cuts and bruises as you raced towards your spot with Silco. Clambering onto the roof, you curled up and waited.

He never came.

The uprising was a fail. Word had already gotten around the Lanes about the massacre. You didn’t see Silco, you didn’t see Felicia, and neither did you see Vander for a week. You lived as an empty shell. Back to square one.

Lonely.

No one to keep you company.

You considered going back to the Last Drop, seeking out Felicia or Vander, yelling at them until your throat was sore. You trusted Vander to keep Alice safe. Was an argument necessary?

Did they even know?

Your anger turned bitter, morphing into hatred. 

And where was Silco?

He’d promised you. 

You’d had enough. So one day you pulled on your jacket and went to the Last Drop.

The usual bustle was unusually subdued, no doubt following the lost battle on the bridge. Your bloodshot eyes scanned the area piercingly. No Silco. No Connol. No Felicia. They flew to the bar counter.

Vander.

You stormed over.

“Vander,” you rasped. The man looked up at you, and almost dropped the glass he was holding in shock. 

“[name],” he stuttered, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen him so apologetic in your life. You stared at him, eyes following his movements. He looked pale and tired, as if he hadn’t been getting enough sleep, and his eyes too, were bloodshot.

“Gin,” you said, staring at him through your hair.

“And tonic? Without the gin?” He asked nervously.

“Gin,” you repeated, and flicked the little blade you kept in your wrist cuff to slowly drag the tip across the wood of the bar top, an elbow on the counter to steady your hunched-over self. The alcohol sloshed in the cup as he set it in front of you.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said, gaze downcast. You didn’t even bother to hum a simple reply, instead taking a sip of the burning liquid.

After a moment if listening to your silence, he spoke again. His voice was heavy with sorrow. “Felicia and Connol are dead, [name],” he said. You looked at the large palm he had placed against the counter to brace himself. It was shaking.

“And Silco?” You looked up at him, lip trembling.

He tensed. Your glassy eyes widened.

“He’s dead?” Your voice was a whisper.

“No,” he said quickly. “I don’t- I don’t know for sure.” His voice was laden with guilt. You stared at him for a moment, studying his gaze.

He refused to look at you.

You pushed back from the bar, taking a trembling step back.

“You did something,” you hissed, nails digging into the splintered wood. He stared at the ground. “Tell me. Tell me now.”

He didn’t say anything. The Last Drop had gone silent.

You lunged at the man, grabbing his collar. “Alice is dead,” you growled. “She’s dead, do you hear me?” Your voice rose to a shout as you shook him. “You told me I could fucking trust you, you son of a bitch.” Releasing his clothes, you shoved him back, throat grating. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO SILCO?!”

“There was a fight,” he started gently.

“Of course there was a fight.” You were tearing up.

“No, a physical fight.”

“Over what?”

He ignored you. “The river…” he took a deep breath.

You stared at him, gut churning. “The river? What about the river?” Your hands flew to your face. “What did you do, Vander?”

He clenched his jaw. “I think it’s best if you leave, [name].”

“What did you do to hi-“

But two patrons were already approaching you, grabbing an arm each. “No no no no no,” you spat, jerking from their unrelenting grip. “I’m going to kill you, you bastard,” you seethed, face murderous as you were pulled away from the bar.

“I’m sorry, [name].”

“I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!” You roared. “Do you fucking hear me? KILL. YOU.”

And so you were dragged, kicking and screaming, from the bar, and dumped onto the street in a sobbing, furious mess. 

You could feel the patron’s eyes on you as the door slammed shut.

Gathering yourself, you trudged to the river. The sky was dark, and you looked out across the lapping waters as if you’d find Silco down there somewhere. You stepped into the freezing water, shaking.

Your daughter and your only friend were gone. You tipped your head back and took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the air of the fissures. Exhaled. Looked down, and glided deeper into the depths.

Was Silco drifting, drowned, beneath the surface, along the riverbed? You trailed your fingertips across the surface of the water, watching it split and ripple. 

What were you to do now?

Your tears fell into the water, watching ripples emanate from where they landed.  

You could kill yourself now. Submerge your head beneath the waters and never rise again. Lungs collapsing with the lack of oxygen. 

The idea seemed so, temptingly delicious, until you imagined the feeling of drowning, and immediately recoiled. Wading out of the water, you collapsed in a shivering heap on the river bank, dragging your wet, cold knees to your chest.

You missed him.

You missed them both.

Pulling your lighter from your soaked pocket, you ran a thumb across the edge. Shaking with the cold, you flicked it open. You didn’t have a cigarette.

Fuck.

“Vander’s dead.”

Draped across the plush velvet cushions of the sofa in your office, you took a deep drag of your cigarette. Your silk dress rustled as you moved, jewellery twinkling in the reddish pink light. You blew the smoke into the air thoughtfully.

“Dead?” You hummed thoughtfully, then beckoned to the girl standing before you. She crossed the rich carpet, and you pulled her onto the seat next to you before putting the cigarette out on her exposed skin. “Tell me more.”

She hissed at the pain. “There was an explosion… Silco was involved. Last night.” Her voice shook with fear as you drew lazy circles on her shoulder with your fingertip.

At this, you sat up straighter. “Was he?” Your leg began to bounce, and you steepled your hands before placing them on your face. After a long moment of silence, accompanied by your furrowed brow, you leaned back into the sofa.

Flicking a coin at the girl, you jerked your head at the curtain. She stood up, clutching it in her closed fist as she swept aside the beaded veil. You looked at the single rose lying on the low table before you.

“This can’t be good for the Lanes,” you sighed, lying back to rest your head on the tasseled cushion. Another cigarette lit. You inhaled deeply, hand falling as the smoke poured from your lips in a steady stream towards the ceiling. “Now that their leader is gone.” You chuckled lightly. “Fuck them. They never showed me a piece of that community bullshit he pushed so hard for anyways.” You turned your head and looked at the rose. “Right?”

“Years,” you hissed. “It’s been years, and the bastard never thought to come find me.” You almost bit the cigarette, smoke curling from your lips. Your leg was shaking with fury again. “Of course he had to break his stupid promise.” You took a moment to relax, melting back into the cushions.

“People will be clawing for a foothold as the next leader,” you continued thoughtfully, and took another drag. “If Silco brought this about…” Your eyes flicked to the curtains. “What do you think, girls? Should I stay out of it? Or take the chance?”

The silhouettes behind the beads moved as the eavesdropping girls shuffled awkwardly. One of them swept into the room, the other poking her head through the dangling strings.

“W-we’re sorry, Madam,” the one girl stuttered. You languidly swept your gaze across her nervous face. “We couldn’t help but hear you while we were passing.”

You stayed silent for a moment, then took another drag on the cigarette. “Put your mask on, and go find a client.”

She nodded frantically, turning to flee the room, and you gave a low chuckle, standing up. Stabbing the cigarette into a gilded ashtray, you moved the beads aside, and stepped into the carpeted hallway.

The air was sweet and thick, the smell of perfume mixing with the smell of desire. Gold accents flashed wherever you looked. Pushing past a pair awkwardly conversing in the hallway, you put a ringed hand on the doorknob to the back door.

Someone cleared their throat. You turned to look at the masked worker. “Madam.” Extending their hands, they held out your coat. You smiled thinly, plucking it from their hands and wrapping it around yourself, giving a dismissive thanks as you stepped outside into the night. 

You made your way through the Lanes, and, more specifically, to the Last Drop. The one place you hadn’t visited in years. 

The place was lit, men leaving and entering with crates and the like. You spotted Sevika standing outside, arms crossed, glaring at curious passer-by. Jamming your hands into your pockets you glided up to her.

“Sevika.” Your voice was smooth. She looked at you, and suddenly scowled.

“You,” she hissed. “I thought you were banned from here.”

Your lip curled, face filled with amusement. “Not anymore I’m not. Not with Vander out of the picture. Cigarette?”

She stared at you suspiciously as you drew out a pack, offering her one temptingly. She scowled, and took it. You held out your lighter.

“What business do you have here?” Her voice was low, dangerous, even. You withdrew your hand, feigning hurt.

“Can’t I just check up every now and then? Take a visit down memory lane?”

She scoffed. “Don’t seem like the type.”

You smirked. “I’m not. Just wanted to see what was happening so far.” You pouted. “The Lanes don’t talk to me.”

“You run a brothel.” She took a drag of the cigarette. “I’m sure you know enough.”

You giggled at that. “Certainly.” Pausing, you narrowed your eyes, tilting your head. “You’re a funny one. You really left Vander at the drop of a hat, didn’t you?”

“He was a coward.” Smoke curled into the air. “We fare better chances of independence with Silco leading us. There’s nothing more to it.”

You quirked a brow. “Is that so. So it’ll be safe to assume that Silco’s taking over the Lanes.”

She sighed heavily, and turned to look at you properly. “You know it’s obvious? How desperately you’re clinging to the past?”

The light, easy look on your face immediately fell into a scowl. She put a heavy hand on your shoulder, leaning in.

“Do yourself a favour and forget it,” she said steadily, gaze refusing to tear away from yours. “We’re all sorry about Alice. But pestering everyone won’t do you any good.”

You grabbed her arm, the metal tips of your nails digging into her skin and drawing blood. She looked at you, shocked, and tried to pull away. You didn’t budge as you flatly looked at her, unmoving.

“Don’t patronise me.” Your voice sounded bored. You plucked your fingers from Sevika’s arm. You produced a sleek black card, with an address on it, and pushed it to her chest. Gave her a vixen’s smile.

“We’re better than Babette’s,” you said sweetly, then your expression darkened. “She won’t be around for long, anyways.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’d like to expand my business is all.” You grinned at her. She swallowed.

“You’ve changed.”

“So they say.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Good to see you again, [name].”

“Likewise.” You didn’t even bother gracing her with a smile or a goodbye as you turned on your heel, leaving her outside the Last Drop, and disappearing into the night.

A visit to the river always calmed your nerves.

Balled fists shaking, you waded into the freezing water.

How fucking dare she? Clinging to the past? That bitch. You sighed, leaning back into the waves. Your hair spread like smoke through the water. Your best friend left you after your daughter’s death. 

Why wouldn’t you fucking cling to the past?

You’ve changed.

You twitched. No. Hands clawed at the back of your head, curling around your neck, pulling you down.

Gasping, you shot upright. 

It took a few minutes of listening to the silent air broken by the sloshing of waves, drops of water rolling down your skin for your heart to return to it’s normal rate. You turned and dragged yourself to the riverbank.

You needed to find a way to twist the mess of Vander’s death to your advantage.

After the years that had passed, it was about time something happened to the bastard. You let in a shaky breath, brushing your soaked hair from your eyes. 

You just hated that you weren’t involved.

The Lanes were in an uproar. Clients talked, of course, and the odd conversation with a newcomer gave you the opportunity to milk every last drop of information that had been withheld from you. 

“Silco’s taking over. No one knows what to do.” The man’s shifty eyes followed a worker as they strolled past you both. You grinned and grabbed him.

“Well, sir, this is the best place to forget your troubles,” you purred, and nodded your head at the worker. Clearing your throat, you turned around to leave.

“Wait.” The client hissed. You turned, raising an eyebrow. He cleared his throat. “I’ve got friends who I owe a favour. They’re in trouble with someone, and need to lay low for a while.” The worker wrapped his hands around the man’s arm, promptly being ignored as the man took out a pouch, holding it out to you. “Money,” he said gruffly. “To let them hide here.”

You stared at the money, surprised, then narrowed your eyes. “Who exactly are they in trouble with?” Your voice had a sharp, venomous edge to it. The other boy, the worker, upon seeing your sharp expression dropped the man’s arm and scurried away. 

“…Can’t say that,” he muttered, eyes downcast. You pouted.

“Oh, but I think you can.”

He looked up. A group of masked women had surrounded him. Sharp blades glinted in the honeyed, rose coloured light.

You stepped towards him slowly and dangerously. He didn’t move, not when you dragged a sharp, metal fingertip down the side of his face, or plucked the money from his trembling hand.

“Is it Silco?” Your voice was soft, apologetic. “You know I can’t make an enemy out of him.”

He didn’t say anything, and you pulled away, and nodded at the girls. One stepped forward to place a cigarette between your teeth and another held a lighter beneath the end. You took a slow drag, eyes unmoving from the man’s nervous face.

Smoke coiled into the thick air as you spoke. “Fine. But I want this-“ you weight the pouch of coins in your flat palm “-in double, and whoever boards here must be at my every disposal.”

The man looked at you, mind turning over the options. You knew he didn’t have much of a choice; he’d looked desperate the moment he set his foot in the building.

“Fine. I’ll bring them and the money tomorrow.”

You didn’t have time to reply before he raced out, pushing past the tinkling beads into the street. You took another smoke-filled breath, and blew it out. The masked girls looked at you expectantly.

“Open the windows,” you said flatly, “before I smoke the place up again.”

A hushed “yes, Madam,” before their footsteps receded down the hallway.

Back in your office, you opened the pouch.

Gold coins spilled out over the table next to the rose. You crouched, turning one over in your finger. It was legitimate. You bit down, a metallic tang flooding your tastebuds. Music played from one of the rooms further down the hall, the sounds of hushed giggles travelling across the carpet. Other than that, it was calm. 

Heavy footsteps you’d recognise anywhere sounded from the entrance, and the beaded curtain swept to the side to reveal Sevika’s tall frame standing in the doorway. You looked up from your position on the floor.

“Sevika,” you said flatly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Her eyes flicked to her muddied boots. “Take your shoes off.”

She did as you said, wrenching the footwear off. You smiled coyly and flicked your head at the sofa opposite your own. “Glad you decided to finally pay a visit,” you drawled, blowing smoke as you talked. She eyed the half-open pouch on the rich, dark wood table, gold spilling from it.

You noticed her staring. “Payment,” you said simply. You took a slow drag, crossing your arms as you did so. Still standing, you looked down at her.

“You here for a client.”

“Yes and no.” She knotted her fingers together. “Tell me why someone I’ve been ordered to take out just ran out of here like you’d burned him?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been staking out my place, have you?”

She scoffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re not that special.”

You smiled. “But I’m definitely on the map.”

“On the map, but not on my boss’ radar, if that’s what you’re so hopeful for.”

At this your cheerful facade fell, settling into disdain. “What do you want, Sevika?”

She shrugged. “I came in here for a good fuck. Just happened to see something else along the way.”

You scoffed, leaning down and stabbing the cigarette into the ashtray with an unusual aggression, different to your usual flowy movements.

“Well, he must have been intimidated.” You flicked your head at the curtains. “Go on. You want me to find you someone myself?”

“No need.” She stood up slowly, dusting herself off. She looked down at you.

“You ever look normal?”

“Huh?”

“You know. Without all the shiny bits and flashiness.”

You sat back. “Of course I do. This,” you waved a hand down your body, “Is just for work. Being eye-catching helps.”

She snorted, then nodded, not bothering to reply as she disappeared behind the beads.

You frowned. Maybe housing someone that Silco wanted was a bad idea.

But maybe you did want the attention from him. Sooner or later, he’d have to face you. Face the fact he left you without a word, when you needed him most. You rolled a coin between your fingers thoughtfully, lounging on the velvet. Your eyes fluttered shut.

-

Bass made the floor thump beneath your feet as you jostled through the crowd, Vander and Felicia were conversing idly while waiting for patrons to order, and your eyes flew to the figure sitting next to them. Silco was too engrossed in his journal to notice you press yourself to his back, hands covering his eyes.

“Nose buried in a book in the middle of a bar,” you slurred, resting your chin on his shoulder. He tensed, relaxed, melted into the touch. “You’re no fun.”

He gave a low chuckle, one that you felt vibrate against your own chest as he flicked a page. Vander and Felicia side-eyed you both.

“You’re wasted,” he muttered, flicking a page. You shook your head, voice muffled by his shoulder.

“No.” Your hands had fallen to rest around his neck. “Yet.”

“No yet?” He sounded amused. You threw your head back and groaned. “You’re drunk, [name].”

“I’m not as think as you drunk I am,” you said, sliding off of him to flop into a barstool. You watched as he brought a spoon of soup to his mouth, eyes following his tongue which darted out to lick his lips. “Drunk as you think,” you corrected yourself, looking away. “Vander, pour me a glass.”

Vander hummed, amused, as he got up to pour you a non-alcoholic drink. Of course you didn’t know it wasn’t alcoholic, downing it in one go. You wiped your mouth with your sleeve.

“Why are you even writing right now anyways?” You complained. You leaned over and snapped the book shut. He frowned, opening it again, and your palm slammed down on it again. Much to his chagrin.

“Drink with me, Silky.” You pushed your glass towards him, not knowing it was non-alcoholic, and he scoffed, unable to hold on to his annoyance at the hilarity of your actions. 

“Don’t call me Silky.”

“Drink with me, Silky.”

“I’m not in the mood.” He pushed your cup away, and you grabbed his hand.

“Dance with me.”

‘Silky’ sighed, frown deepening. “Janna, [name]. Stop pestering me.” His tone had either come out harsher than it was meant to be, or maybe in your drunken state you’d heard it wrong, but your face immediately fell with hurt. He didn’t notice, turning back to his journal.

“Seriously?” Your voice wobbled. He sighed, pushing a strand of his hair out of his eyes. 

“Seriously,” he said firmly, not sparing you another glance. A hand went to your shoulder.

“[name], are you okay?” Felicia looked concerned. Your eyes were glassy, face turning red. Silco finally looked up.

But not in time to catch you as you fell off of your stool, hitting the floor with a harsh thud.

A few collective gasps sounded around you. You groaned, hand flying to your forehead as your skull thrummed, head pounding. “Fuckkk.” Your glass which was once in your hand had shattered, a single shard of glass digging into your skin.

Silco dropped his pen, leaning down. He was frowning again, but now out of concern, hovering and unsure what to do with the drunk mess that you were as you sat up and pressed your back to the bottom wall of the bar counter, drawing your knees to your chest.

Or when you burst into tears.

“Oh, [name]-“ he dropped to his knees, looking over you for any bruises. “Are you seriously crying? The fall was that bad?” And then he noticed your bleeding hand and grabbed your wrist. “Oh, Janna.”

You sniffled, wiping your nose. “No,” you mumbled, shoulders still shaking.

“No?” His eyes flicked up to try and catch your gaze, to no avail. “Then what is it?” He muttered, gently plucking out the small shard.

“You don’t want me around!” You wailed, then covered your face with your hands. He stared at you.

“What?”

You didn’t respond, continuing to pathetically sob. He shared a look with Vander, and hauled you up by the shoulder.

“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?” He huffed, breath skimming across your hair as your head lolled on his shoulder. You nodded absently.

“Mmmmyeah. M’sorry I lied.” The words that came out of your mouth were nothing short of a jumbled mess as he dragged you across the bar, taking you to the back.

“It’s fine, dear,” he murmured. The door shut and he let you collapse onto a wooden crate. You blinked, vision wavering with tears, around the dusty storage unit. Glasses, crates, even old chairs. You watched as he rummaged around the shelves, items clattering, before he drew out a first aid box.

“Are we on a ship?” You mumbled as he gently took your wrist, thumb smoothing over your skin. He began to dab at the wound. You hissed in pain.

“Oh, stop moving, will you?” He complained, grabbing your wrist again and tugging it forward, back to its original place. “You big baby.” He worked in silence, listening to your sniffles. “We aren’t on a ship. We’re in the Last Drop.” His voice had softened.

“Then why is everything moving?”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“Makes sense,” you said, looking up at him, wide-eyed. “I believe you.”

Something in his chest jumped a little as he cast his eyes down, continuing to clean your cut.

By the time he’d patched you up you were sliding off of the crate onto the floor. He stared at the pathetic heap of your body sprawled on the flooring and sighed, nudging you with his foot ever-so-gently.

“Get up, [name].” 

“M’sleepy.”

“You can’t sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t wanna go back out there.”

He sat down on the crate, and you looked up at him. He held his hand out. “Come here.”

You pushed yourself to the foot of the crate, laying your head on his lap. He tensed beneath you, relaxed, melted, before letting out a short exhale. 

“I meant, get up, [name].”

“No,” you mumbled. His fingers played with a strand of your hair. “Not enough space for the both of us.”

“Which is why we should go outside.”

You groaned. “S’too loud out there.”

Silco was miffed. “You want me to stay holed up in this storage cupboard with you while my legs go numb? Thanks.”

You looked up at him, eyes shiny with tears again. He quickly withdrew his words.

“I’m joking. I’m sorry. You know I’d do that any day.” He thought for a moment. “What’s all this about me not wanting you around?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, the enunciation suddenly clear instead of sloppy. He looked at you. “I’m such a bother. I pissed you off and messed with your journal.” You sniffled. “And now I’m forcing you to stay here with me.”

“You could just let us go outside,” he muttered under his breath, but one look at your face had him melting. “You’re not forcing me,” he said firmly. “And you didn’t annoy me.” He carded his fingers through your locks, pausing as he carefully mulled over his next words. “I’d never not want you around.”

“I just want your attention,” you hiccuped. “I’m so pathetic.”

He tensed again, not that you noticed. “You want my attention?” His heart was thrumming against his ribcage.

You exhaled, eyes only half-open. “More than anything.”

He didn’t know what to say to this, other than drag you to your feet. “You’re drunk,” he said shortly. “We’re going home.”

“Okay, Silky,” you said contentedly. With you on his arm Silco brought you back out to the front of the bar.

“I’m taking her home,” he curtly told Felicia and Vander, who both looked at him, bemused.

“I can go alone,” you protested, but not before he threw your coat around your shoulders.

“You’re drunk out of your mind. It’s not safe.” And with that he promptly led you from the bar.

You stared at him, stumbling a little as the cold air bit at your face. Grabbed his arm tighter, and nodded.

“Thanks.”

You’d switched out of your heavy jewellery and glittery makeup to a more darker, intimidating look, dark colours and angles in your clothes as you reached for the back door to meet your new tenants. The cold air burst into the warm building, and you stepped outside.

The man from before was looking up at the brothel in awe, the rosey windows and walls rising to the sky. You cleared your throat.

He looked at you, and started. “Oh. Madam.”

Your gaze travelled past him to settle on the two men behind him. He stepped forward, another heavy purse in his hands. You nodded at the two men.

“That’s for me, as well,” he said quietly. You quirked an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, beckoning for them to follow you into the brothel. A girl leaned against the doorway, mask pulled over her eyes as she gave them a beguiling smile, all three of the, filing into the warm glowing building after you. She shut the door after you, lock clicking shut.

You stopped short, eyeing the three men, before pulling out a cigarette and balancing it between your teeth. The vastaya girl stepped forward, holding your lighter for you. You gave her a grateful smirk, inhaling deep. 

“You three will prove useful somehow,” you said quietly. “Show them to their rooms.” The masked girl stepped forward, lips curling at them again as she led them upstairs. They all looked about awkwardly, shuffling after her as if they didn’t know what to do with themselves.

You waited until they disappeared up the landing, and without sparing another second you charged down the hallway, throwing open the back door. You poked your head outside, lip curling into a sneer as smoke coiled from your lips.

You could have sworn you’d seen the orange glow of a cigarette in the dark. No- two cigarettes…? You furrowed your brow, slinking back into the brothel, shutting and locking the door for good. With shaking hands you took a drag, practically spitting out the smoke.

-

Eventually news spread of you taking in three desperate men, and many people began seeking you out for shelter. Shimmer addicts, people being chased by enforcers, some low-life who was in debt or pissed off a big bad and needed to hide, women running from abuse, children seeking shelter from their families- you name it.

And as your business continued growing- not that it wasn’t substantially large already, so did your space. Your influence. Your reputation.

At some point, you deserved to be a Chembaron.

You knew you’d ticked off a good amount of people by taking their targets under your wing, but what would they do? Attack you? The thought was laughable. With so many people owing their lives to you, owing their loyalty, no one stood a chance. The very thought made you tingle, distracted from the two girls sitting on the couch in front of you in your office, over the wooden desk. The rose lay solitary, long wilted.

“M-my dad used to hit me,” the first girl chattered. You frowned at her tattered clothes, not doing much to keep the chill out. The second girl was also shivering, and they both huddled close to each other.

“Please take us in, Madam,” the second one burst out. There were tears in both of their eyes. “We’ll do anything.”

You stood up, silk cascading down your legs as you made your way to them. You cupped your hand under the first girl’s bruised cheek. It was cold. She had wide eyes and mousy brown hair. You flinched.

“I’ll have someone find you a room, or you can share,” you reassured her. They both hugged you, and you flinched, surprised, before petting their heads. The second girl pulled her head away and looked up at your, fear marring her youthful features.

“Will we have to be…”

They looked past the beaded curtains, faces contorted with nerves.

“You know… workers?”

You blanched. “No! Of course not.” The mere thought disgusted you, and you crouched down and stroked her hair. “I’ll find another use for you. Or you can live with me until you’re of age and can pay me back with work or coin.”

She nodded nervously, and you whistled at a worker to take them away. She smiled at them, leading them down the hallway and up the stairs to find them a room. 

You heard a chuckle. “Didn’t think you were still the motherly type.”

You flinched, whirling around to see Sevika smirking at you, arms crossed. You scoffed, lighting up a cigarette you’d produced from the folds of the shawl hanging around your arms. A habit you had whenever you needed to calm your nerves; the second something frazzled you even slightly the cancer stick was in your hand within seconds.

“Why not?” Your voice was hard.

“You know, since you lost the first one.” At your nauseous expression she paused. “Sorry. Too far?”

Your lip curled. “You’d gone too far the second you mentioned her.”

You practically grabbed a masked girl and shoved her towards Sevika. She stumbled into the tall woman’s chest, flushing at the contact, and then blanching at your uncharacteristically angry nature. They both watched you as you stormed into your office, beads angrily swept against the wall. The door you almost never closed behind the beaded curtain slammed shut, rattling the walls. 

Behind it, you heard Sevika curse, then the girl hum, and footsteps. Tinkling beads as they presumably stepped past a curtain into whatever room was free.

You picked up the wilted rose and rolled the thorny stem between your fingers, ignoring the prickling sensation, agitated. Your head was pounding, breathing picked up. You flung the door back open and looked at at a pair who were quietly conversing at the side.

“…ever even closed that door?”

“…she’s usually really calm, the only time she gets like this is when…”

“…used to have a daughter.”

You snapped your fingers at them. “Hey,” you hissed. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

The first girl flushed. “S-sorry, Madam.”

“I’m sure there’s clients that need you.”

She nodded. “Yes, Madam.”

“Now fuck off.”

They both dispersed. You took another deep drag of the cigarette, tilting your head back and letting your eyes flutter half-closed, letting the smoke invading your system settle over your mind like a heavy blanket of fog.

-

Unsticking your eyes, you groaned as you lifted your head from the pillow. Still dressed in yesterday's clothes, tangled in your bedsheets, you felt like shit.

You vaguely recalled the past events of last night, until some point where it all became foggy. Pushing yourself up and off the bed, you spotted a note on the bedside lamp.

“You were embarrassingly drunk last night. I took the liberty of taking you home. Looks like you owe me two favours. -S.”

You flushed, embarrassed, wondering what you’d done. What you’d said. You put the note in the drawer and slammed it shut, sealing it away for good.

Sevika had begun to show up at the brothel more than usual.

Whenever she walked in, eyes shifty, posture tense, you’d peek your head out from your office doorway, cold beads brushing your face. A frown, a nod, and then disappearing back into the rosy haze of your office. She’d storm off to find a worker she favoured and left as soon as the hour was up.

You’d noticed a pattern- well, not so much a pattern as an obvious fact. She asked for one girl only.

You had the girl brought into your office. She shuffled in, clasping her hands in front of her as you kicked your leg over the armrest as you reclined on your couch. You placed a cigarette in between your lips, and flicked your head at her.

“Lighter,” you said through clenched teeth. She stepped forward, leaned down to collect your lighter from the low table, and stepped closer to you. Flicking it open, she held it underneath the end of your cigarette, and you watched as the reflection of the orange glow danced in her eyes. Your lips curled into a languid smile as you fell back into the tassels and velvet, smoke spreading through the air, and she straightened up again.

“Name?”

“Donna, Madam.”

You turned your head to look at her boredly.

“Tell me about Sevika.” You lazily gestured to the sofa opposite. “Does she talk?”

“Talk…?”

“Does she spill?” You plucked the cigarette from your mouth and waved it about for emphasis, the glowing end carving a smoky trail in the air. “Does she tell you anything about herself? Anything relevant?”

Donna cleared her throat and readjusted her seat on the couch. “No, Madam. She’s quite secretive, compared to other clients. Doesn’t talk about herself much.”

You chuckled, taking a long drag from your cigarette. “Of course,” you murmured, smoke pouring from your mouth. “Do you ask questions?”

“I’ve tried, but she doesn’t like to stick around for small talk.”

You frowned, and abruptly propped yourself up on an elbow. The cigarette was back in between your fingers. “Well, you do what you can. I want to know why she comes here so often.” You rolled the cigarette in between your fingers. “Something tells me it isn’t just pent up energy.”

“I’ll do my best, Madam.” 

You stood up, leaning down to stub out the cigarette and then escorting her to the doorway. You gave her a small pat on the shoulder.

“I hope your best is enough,” you said flatly, watching a small look of panic flit across her face as you smiled sweetly, nudging her through the beads. “Bye-bye.”

Unfortunately, Donna’s best was in fact not enough. A week later and there was a conversation to be had.

“She got angry after I asked,” she muttered hurriedly, clutching her hands to her chest. “If she isn’t getting angry, her answers are cryptic or vague.”

A slow drag of the cigarette as you braced yourself, a flat palm on the hallway wall. “And what kind of questions do you ask?” You mused, inspecting the cigarette in between your fingers.

“I-I asked her,” she stumbled over her words, “The reason why she came so often, what her boss was like, and how she knew you.” At the brief indirect mention of Silco, a muscle in your face twitched subtly. You pushed down any further action and nodded, humming. She flinched back as you idly blew a curl of smoke in her direction. “Tactfully, of course.”

You studied her nervous face, your head tilted. The front door opened and the familiar sound of beads tinkling came from the top of the hallway. Heavy footsteps cut through the hushed murmur of workers and clients as Sevika stomped down the carpet towards you and Donna.

“Sevika,” you said smoothly. “Our number one patron.” With a sardonic twitch of your lips you turned to leave Donna and her admirer alone for the night, but paused when your name was spoken.

“I haven’t come here for any service,” Sevika said firmly. You stayed still, your back to her. She squared her shoulders. “I need to talk to you.”

You looked at the patterns in the carpet, taking a rather jumpy drag of your cigarette. Eyes wide, settling on every little detail that caught your attention. You drew your hand from your lips and exhaled sharply, smoke shooting from your nose and curling in the air like you were some kind of dragon.

“You’ve finally gotten what you wanted,” Sevika added roughly.

You whirled around violently, jewellery clinking. “And what might that be?” You snapped. Donna took a few stumbled steps back, before disappearing further into the building entirely. You both ignored her.

“You’re on the boss’ radar.” Sevika adjusted her cloak over her arm, looking down at you with a sort of smug, knowing look that made your blood boil.

You inhaled sharply, agitated. 

-

“You’re telling me, that he says, I can’t be harbouring anyone he wants,” you said calmly, despite the fact you were pacing the room, occasionally running your hands through your hair. Sevika nodded from where she was hunched over on the couch. You stopped short.

“Bullshit,” you spat.

Sevika looked up at you, bored, and shrugged her broad shoulders. “That’s just what I’ve been told to tell you. You either turn them in, or he has some Shimmer-mutated freak come over and storm the place.” She raised her eyebrows, smirking. “Think of the children, [name].”

At this you stiffened entirely, letting out a sound that didn’t seem entirely human. Sevika straightened up a little.

“Shit, sorry. I wasn’t actually thinking of- I mean, it wasn’t a dig at-“ she paused, watching your chest heave up and down, expecting you to burst into a rage at any minute. But instead you straightened up.

“You his right hand?” You said coldly, voice even. “Or just his errand-girl?”

At this, Sevika scowled, apologies forgotten. You continued coolly, taking a drag on the cigarette. Smoke curled around you like a veil.

“Who?” You muttered. She looked up.

“What?”

“Who does he want? And why?”

“Three men. They’ve been fucking with his factories, working for some other douche.” Sevika rubbed her face with a hand. “Before you go on a rant, no, it’s not to save Zaun from drug addiction.” She scoffed. “They want a monopoly on the Lanes.”

At this, you scrunched your face up. “So, they voluntarily fucked with him for power.”

Sevika nodded. “And they’d fuck with you too, the second they get their hands on what they want. You’re seriously gonna let them take advantage of your hospitality?”

You mulled it over in your head.

Of course, whatever bullshit she was spitting was pure lies or exaggeration to get you to cave in. But they were nice ones. And the bastards had chosen that for themselves- they couldn’t piss off a kingpin and expect you to let them hide behind you. That wasn’t what you were there for.

And-

Think of the children, [name].

You flinched, the action not going unnoticed by Sevika. But it remained unaddressed as you waved your hand dismissively, taking another shaky breath of smoke. “That won’t work. I don’t turn in my own people.”

“Shocking,” she muttered, standing up and dusting herself off.

“Just fuck off and get out. Your stupid threats won’t stop me. If Silco chooses to send a monster into a building filled with kids and innocents, he can live with that blood on his hands forever, being the forsaken bastard he is.”

“Quite the speech,” Sevika drawled, eyes dragging across your hard face. She frowned. “You sure you wanna do that, [name]?” You beckoned her closer. She hesitated, then leaned in.

You put the cigarette out on her cheek.

She hissed, jerking her face away as her skin practically sizzled. You straightened up. “I said, get out.”

You slouched against the frame of the front door as she left, inspecting your nails tilting your head back to rove your gaze over the patterned ceiling. Your silhouette was framed by light from the street outside as Sevika stepped through the door, rubbing the spot you’d burnt her.

You gave her a siren’s smile. “Pleasure doing business with you,” you smirked, and, to rub it in farther: “Errand-girl.”

“Fucking kill yourself,” she replied stiffly, disappearing into the street.

You laughed.

-

“Silco?” You uttered, confused at seeing him at your doorstep. “It’s eleven o’clock at night.”

“I-I know, I’m sorry.” His gaze travelled past your shoulder into your apartment. Muffled sobs emanated from behind a closed door. “But you left your knife and wrist cuff at the Last Drop.”

“And you come to return it at eleven PM,” you grumbled, but silently thanked him as you took your things from his outstretched hand. As Alice’s cries intensified, you gave him an apologetic look, clearly frazzled. “Look, I have to go.”

“Is she alright?” The question was gentle, probing. His eyes searched your face. “Are you?”

At this you almost collapsed, and to his surprise you threw yourself at him. He grabbed your waist to steady you, as you looped your arms around his shoulders and buried your nose into the crook of his neck. He tensed. Relaxed. Melted.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I’m exhausted.” He guided you into the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him.

“What happened?”

“Something happened with the kids outside today when Felicia took her out, I don’t know.” You ran a hand through your hair, frazzled. You were still clinging to his arm, something of which he was acutely aware of but did not mention. “It must have triggered her- reminded her of something-“ you waved your hands around, exasperated. Through your uncoordinated movements he could tell you needed rest. “She won’t stop.” Your voice broke.

“Get on the sofa,” he commanded gently, and you immediately obeyed. He went to the bedroom door and crouched down, knocking on it gently, softly calling Alice’s name.

Within minutes he had her outside and quiet, stroking her hair. He looked up at you, and you could only stare at him, eyes half-lidded, in amazement. 

“I’ll put her to bed,” he told you, and you laid back on the couch, sighing. 

You didn’t know how long it had been of you drifting in and out of consciousness for you to hear his footsteps approaching you. You watched him lean over you, pausing as if to say something. His eyes flicked down your face.

“Scoot,” he said finally. You eased yourself up, and he sat down next to you. You immediately draped yourself over him, head on his chest. He tensed, relaxed, melted into your touch. Hand went to your hair.

“You calmed her down pretty quick,” you mumbled. He hummed, staring into the darkness absentmindedly. You began to tremble, and he looked down at you, jolted with concern.

“Hey. Look at me. What’s wrong?”

You cursed under your breath as his hand flew to your chin to tilt your face towards him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I keep pulling stunts like this. I don’t even have a reason to be upset.”

“I don’t believe that.”

You stared at him defiantly, but it didn’t take long for the facade to crumble. You let out a shuddery breath as you wiped your eyes with your sleeve, straightening to sit up properly. His arm circled around your waist, dragging you closer to him. You pressed your face back into his neck.

“If I can’t even calm her down,” your voice was soft and broken, “what kind of mother am I?”

At this he didn’t have any words. You watched him search for them, a dark strand of hair falling in front of his eyes. After a while, he spoke.

“You’re a good one,” he whispered reassuringly. You shook your head.

“No, I’m not. I have to rely on my friend to come over at eleven at night to calm her down.” Your voice cracked and you nestled deeper into him to hide the tears threatening to fall. “Crying again,” you muttered. “God, I’m so pathetic.”

He rested his head on yours. “You’re not,” he said firmly, keeping his voice down. “[name], if I hear you talking yourself down one more time I’ll smack the tears off of your face.”

“I take. And take, and I take,” you muttered feverishly. He glared at you.

“Because I give. And I give willingly.” He slipped his arm beneath your thighs to drag them into his lap, readjusting you so you’d be more comfortable, knowing you were on the verge of sleep. 

“Thankyou,” you exhaled.

And fall asleep you did.

You tugged your black top, which had ridden up your midriff, back down towards your belt as you stormed into the Last Drop, shoving patrons as you passed through the crowd. Sevika was at a table, ashtray half-full and glass half empty.

Scowling, you grabbed her arm, the one concealed by her cloak. Your hand made contact with metal through the fabric.

She stared at you. “[name],” she said flatly. You snatched your hand away, balling it into a fist. 

“Tell me-“ you stabbed a finger at her chest, “there’s been men at my doorstep at least three times this week.”

She scoffed. “Probably because you run a brothel.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you hissed. She stared at you, a frown carving a notch into her forehead, before nodding at her tablemates. Slamming her palms onto the surface a little too hard she slowly heaved herself up.

“Let’s talk somewhere else,” she said.

You watched as she went to a corner, nodding at a door. You stared at her incredulously.

“Go in there with you?” You yelled over the din. “You must be insane.”

She groaned, and within moments you were both standing outside.

“You look real different, dressed like a normal person.” She nodded at your toned-down appearance. You scowled, flicking a hair out of your face. “Almost didn’t recognise you.”

“Whatever.” You took out a cigarette, rolling it between your fingers between placing it in between your lips. You’d dropped any efforts to keep up your beguiling, siren-like facade around Sevika- there was no point. You flicked open your lighter, palm shielding the flame.

“So what’s all this about men outside the brothel?”

“They’ve been heckling my girls. And guys,” you added. “I assumed they had something to do with your- boss, considering the fact I have something he wants.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say his name, now that someone was actually listening.

Sevika must have taken notice of this, because her lips twitched. But she didn’t mention it. “You know, you look a lot like when we were younger. Before everything went to shit.”

“Did he send them?” Your voice was stone cold and hard. Sevika scowled at this.

“Of course he fucking didn’t. You think he’d stoop that low? I thought you knew him.”

You took a deep drag on your cigarette, not meeting her eyes as you exhaled. Your leg threatened to bounce with well-concealed anxiety. “Well, I don’t now. I want these bastards dealt with.”

Sevika crossed her arms. “Since when do I have to deal with your problems? Last I checked, it’s not you I’m working for.”

You scowled. “Well, something’s telling me that this is gonna be your problem soon enough,” you snapped. “Considering the fact that they’re looking for your boss.”

She paused. “Wait, what?”

“They keep bugging us about him. No idea why us,” you sneered, “because I’d rather shoot myself in the foot than be associated with you or his people, but sadly that’s the case. So hurry up and fix this before I send them your way for good.” You pushed the cigarette into her chest. “Enjoy, errand-girl.”

And with that you turned around and stalked off, pulling your coat around you as your brisk steps carried you away from the Last Drop. Breath misting in the air, you turned to look at Sevika. But all you saw was the door swinging shut as she disappeared back into the bar. 

-

You hurried back into the brothel, a gust of warm air enveloping you in a snug, cozy embrace. Immediately the feeling was quenched as you turned and saw a girl with big glassy eyes and mousy brown hair looking up at you, arms outstretched.

You gingerly shrugged off your coat and dumped it in her hands. She followed you to your office, hovering anxiously around the beaded curtains.

“What is it?” You sounded miffed.

“Your coat, Madam. I was instructed to leave it in your office.”

“Then why’d you make me take it off?” 

But nonetheless, you beckoned for her to come in. She placed it on a hook in the corner, and you curled your finger, calling her forwards. A cigarette dangling from your bottom lip, you placed something in her soft palm.

She unfurled her fingers. “Do you know what that is?” She shook her head.

You took it back from her, flicked it open, and pushed down. Flame erupted from the lighter, illuminating a freckle on her face. Her eyes widened and she shuffled back.

“Don’t be afraid,” you said, snapping it shut. You gently but firmly took hold of her wrist, tugging it forward and pushing it back into her hand. You leaned back, arm slung across the back of the couch, and gestured to your cigarette.

She leaned over the armrest and, with a trembling thumb, pushed down as you’d shown her. The flame jumped a little too close to your face and you moved your head back, eyes widening, as she hurriedly snapped it shut.

She froze, waiting for a reprimand. But you didn’t say anything, just sucked on the cigarette and smiled at her, eyes looking at her without turning your face. You tipped your head back and let the smoke curl in the air.

“Hand-eye coordination needs some work,” you commented. She nodded.

“Yes, Madam.”

“What’s your name?”

“Alice-“

Your eyes widened, chest tightening.

“-son.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Allison,” she repeated timidly. You were shaking, she noticed, and took a quick step back.

Chewing on your lip, your eyes crawled across her face desperately. She looked…

Scared.

You could taste blood on your tongue. You released your bloodied lip from between your teeth, then soothed it with your tongue.

This girl is not Alice, you reminded yourself. 

“You look tired,” you remarked, relaxing. “Have you been getting a good night’s sleep?”

“No,” she admitted silently. You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “The mattresses are hard,” she said regretfully. “Not that I’m complaining, Madam,” she added hastily.

You chuckled. “No, please. Feel free to complain.”

She couldn’t tell if you were being sarcastic or not, as you patted the spot on the couch next to you. She clambered onto the cushions obediently.

You took another thoughtful drag, then blew out the smoke, cigarette poised in between your fingers as you leaned into Allison.

“Will I tell you something important?”

She nodded, eyes wide.

“I used to have a daughter just like you.” You looked the girl up and down. “Same age, same eyes, same hair. Almost the same name.”

Allison knotted her little fingers together in her lap, looking up at you in wonder as you smoked some more.

“But she died.” Your tone was flat. 

Allison recoiled. “Killed by enforcers,” you continued. You looked at the little girl, silently staring at her.

Then you sighed.

“You can sleep on the couch tonight, if you want. A welcome change from the mattresses.” You leaned forward and stubbed out the cigarette on the ashtray that lay on the table, next to the long-wilted rose, and rubbed the bridge of your nose. “I’d have them changed if they weren’t the best we could afford in Zaun. Piltie bastards are probably sleeping well into the afternoon.”

She didn’t say anything.

“My bedroom is that door,” you told her, pointing to a door next to a bookshelf. “The office locks from the inside.”

“This is too generous, Madam,” Allison whispered.

You scoffed. “Not at all. You’ll have a job, you know.”

Allison looked up expectantly, and you stumbled around your words to find an excuse. “Uhh… clean up the office every now and then. And lock it once I go to bed.”

Allison smiled. “Alright.”

“And if I have anything else that needs tending to then expect the responsibility to fall to you, in the case that you’re able for such tasks.”

Allison nodded, bowing her head. “Yes, Madam.”

You flicked your hand at her. “Right, now… go away.”

Allison scuttled away into the front entrance of the brothel, cutting across and eventually disappearing into another narrow hallway. You followed after her, looking around. Beads, lanterns, curtains. Sickly sweet incense, mist swirling across the floor. A new client had just passed in through the doorway. She was looking behind herself nervously as she hurried in.

You silently watched her from the spot in the corner you’d chosen to lean on, obscured by the sheer fabric draped across the ceiling. She disappeared hand in hand with one of your men, and a tall, broad figure stepped into view.

Sevika.

You brushed the sheer drapes as you emerged, mist coiling around your feet as you walked.

“I thought we already spoke today,” you said steadily, expression even as you studied her face.

“What if I came here for your services?” She sounded amused.

“You don’t look like it. Hurry up, tell me what it is.”

Sevika squared her shoulders, gaze roving around the all-too familiar room. It eventually settled back on your face.

“He wants a meeting with you.”

“What?”

“You deaf?” She tilted her head. “He wants to meet with you in his office. Tomorrow night.”

“No.” Your response was fast.

You couldn’t face him. You’d rather never speak to him face to face again- your last in-person interaction, despite years ago, had been quite fond and you knew that whatever version of him you’d meet if you went would simply take on the image of the man you used to know.

Sevika frowned at you. “Are you okay?”

You were breathing hard. “No, I’m not. Get out.”

She stepped towards you. “[name].”

“What’s it about?” You hissed. “I’ll talk to you. Come on.” You stepped towards your office.

For a moment, you thought Sevika would protest, but she simply followed you silently after a quick moment of hesitation. You shut the door properly.

“Sit down.”

“I think I’ll stand.” There was a glint in her eye you didn’t miss.

“It wasn’t a request.”

Sighing and rolling her shoulders back, she assumed her usual position on the couch.

You didn’t sit down, choosing to remain standing. You crossed your arms, leg shaking. “What’s the issue?”

“It’s the men. They’re here for, er, other people.”

“What?” She couldn’t be any less clear- your pounding head was beginning to grow fuzzy. 

“You’re harbouring more wanted men and women than you think, or than you’d like to admit. We need to round them up, and finish them off,” she said steadily. You frowned at her.

“I’m not giving up innocent people,” you spat.

“Believe me, [name],” her voice was strained with exasperation. “They are far from innocent. Just hand them over, and this whole ordeal can be over. No more men at your door, no more Silco breathing down your neck.”

You took a deep breath, rubbing your face, considering her words.

“And I have your word that whatever happens to them next will be deserved, be it good or bad?” You asked quietly.

She was surprisingly solemn in her response. “You have my word.”

“Fine. I’ll round them up, and drop them off tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow night, the Last Drop. Ten o’clock.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, whatever you say. But-“ you held up your hand. “I want a trade.”

She stared at you. “What?”

You scowled. “You think I’ll just give away my men for free? I want something in return.”

She suppressed a groan. “And what might that be? Money? Shimmer?”

You bit your lip, thinking. “I need collateral.”

She stared at you blankly. “Well, we don’t have collateral.”

“Something I can hold over his head,” you ploughed on. She laughed. 

“You know I’m right here, right? It’s my boss you’re scheming against.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck. Whatever, just- give me men in return.” 

“Wh- men?”

“Employee for employee.” You’d fully regained your composure by now, and you adjusted the cuffs of your sleeves. “It’s only fair.”

She stared at you incredulously. “Well, who would you want?”

“I’ll take my pick when the time comes,” you hummed, waving her out. She scowled, flinging the door open. Hand still on the doorknob, she paused, twisting her head around.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” She snarled.

You grinned. “So I’ve been told.”

You watched as Felicia swayed her hips in time to the music, hands curling through the air as she spun around. Hands tucked underneath your knees which were drawn up to your chest, you nestled further into the booth in the corner, watching as she fell gracefully onto a barstool to talk to Vander and Silco.

Something uneasy stirred in your gut.

What was this feeling?

You watched Silco, tracing the strong silhouette of his side profile as he scooted closer to the other two. You frowned as his eyes settled on Felicia.

You scoffed, and rolled your eyes, picking up your pen to finish the half-hearted doodle you’d been drawing in the margin of a journal you’d stolen off of Silco. A crude stick drawing of him. You penned your initials underneath, so a trace of you would remain there forever.

Your eyes flicked back to the bar. Vander had pulled out four glasses. Four, not three. When he looked up to call you over, you were already on your way, eyes locked onto him.

Felicia dragged a barstool next to her. Your eyes flicked to Silco, who was partially obscured by the woman’s body, and the strange feeling began to simmer. 

Her eyes fell to the book in your hands. “What’s this?” She asked, amused, snatching it from you. You let out a small indignant sound of protest as she flicked through the pages.

“It’s Silco’s,” she raised an eyebrow and looked at him, waving the book. “Filled with numbers, of course.”

Silco leaned over and grabbed it out of her hands. She smirked at him. You looked away from them both, hooking the tip of your finger inside the rim of a glass full of crimson liquid, dragging it towards yourself.

Get a grip, you pathetic woman. She’s pregnant and taken.

“What were you doing with it, [name]?”

“Reading,” you muttered curtly. The four of you fell silent.

Silco’s easy voice broke the building tension. “Since when could you read? I was under the impression you were illiterate.”

“Oh shut up, you rat bastard,” you snarked, eyes glittering with amusement as your mood almost immediately bounced back.

He grinned at you, raising the glass to his lips. 

“And that’s not very funny,” you continued, miffed. “What if I couldn’t read? Not everyone’s had a formal education in the undercity. Very insensitive, especially from a revolutionary.” You clicked your tongue, taking a sip.

“In Zaun,” Vander cut in. You looked at him, and waved your glass in his direction.

“In Zaun,” you repeated, eyebrow raised, even though correcting you was never his intention. Felicia chuckled, music still playing smoothly behind the three of you. You tapped your fingers on the side of the glass.

“I’d assume you were too stupid to further any education past a basic reading level,” Silco said coolly, looking at you over the rim of his drink. You scoffed.

“I suggest you stop projecting.”

“I’m sorry- are we interrupting something?” Felicia’s chin was lazily balanced on her palm, elbow digging into the wooden bar top. She looked knowingly at Vander. “Is this-“ she pointed between you and Silco- “Some kind of foreplay?”

You stared at her, scandalised. “What? Of course not.” Silco just scoffed, giving a small laugh of disbelief. She nodded, smirking.

“Sure.” She took a sip of her own drink, amber and thick instead of crimson like yours. You fumbled for a cigarette, finally finding one, and then producing a lighter.

Vander clicked his tongue. “Ah- ah- ah. No smoking around the pregnant woman.”

You stared at him, mildly irritated at being denied the leisure to smoke. “Why not?” You said, teeth clenched. Your hand finally unfurled to reveal your lighter, cold in your palm. “You think I’ll give a fetus lung cancer off of second hand smoke?”

Felicia grinned, ghosting a hand over her belly. Your heart warmed at the action.

“Speaking of kids,” Silco said suddenly, “Where’s Alice?”

“At home,” you said. “Safe.” You flicked the lighter open.

“Out,” Vander said firmly, despite the smile behind his eyes. Felicia pouted, waving to you as you left the bar.

“Sorry,” she called after you apologetically. You smiled shortly and dismissively waved a hand before stepping out, door creaking. Your eyes lingered as she turned and said something to Silco, narrowing involuntarily.

You pulled your coat tighter around yourself, shivering lightly, and fumbled with the lighter- it wouldn’t work, despite your clicking. The door creaked but you paid it no mind.

“Struggling?”

You turned to see Silco looking at you, hand outstretched.

You placed the lighter in his hand. He laughed. 

“No, idiot, give me the cigarette.”

You held it out of his reach possessively. “What? Why?” He chuckled again and grabbed your wrist, catching you off guard as he pulled you towards him and plucked the cigarette from your hands. You flushed. He took the lighter too, and held the cigarette in between his teeth as he fiddled with it, trying to get it lit.

“Because, it’s about time you pay me back for all the cigarettes you’ve bummed off  of me,” he said, rolling his eyes. You did the same, crossing your arms. The flame lit up. “Sharing is caring, you know?” A slight reference to the first time you’d met. You suppressed a grin.

“Why’d you follow me out here?”

He ignored you. “You’ve had more of my money’s worth in cigarettes than myself.”

You put your hand on your hips. “Silco.”

He looked down at you, taking a slow drag as his eyes roved over your face. You turned slightly more red, crossing your arms again and looking away. He leaned forward to hand you the roll-up, smoke curling in the air. Your eyes flicked softly up to his face, and then you took it.

You mimicked him, taking a slow drag. Your leg shook. He sighed.

“I wanted a smoke too. And I didn’t want you to be out here alone.”

Your heart fluttered at his confession, as small as it was. You sidled closer to him, looking up through your lashes as you blew out a last few puffs of smoke.

”Thanks,” you muttered. Music still faintly flowed from inside the building. For a few more silent minutes you both passed the cigarette between you in comfortable silence.  

Finally, you flicked it. “Let’s go inside.” You shivered. “It’s cold.”

He followed you in. Another disc was playing, the soft, smooth music filling the room. As the evening dusk darkened, more patrons came in, just getting off of work. You pulled Silco into a corner.

“You’ll dance with me.”

He sighed. “[name], no.”

“It wasn’t a question.” You lightly swayed to the music, and he ran a hand through his hair, a few more strands falling out of his bun.

“You and I both know I look ridiculous dancing.”

You laughed, a soft, melodic sound. He looked away quickly. “Considering the fact you’re a toothpick on legs, I believe you.” You gently took his wrists and pulled him towards you, the action surprisingly tender. 

He chuckled nervously, face turning slightly pink.

“Come on. It’s just a dance, the music’s slow. I’m not asking you to do backflips around the bar.”

At your last remark he let out another laugh, more genuine this time. After a moment of mulling it over he leaned in and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in. “Fine. But nothing crazy.”

“Yes sir,” came the playful response, and the grip on your waist ever-so-slightly tightened, his shoulders stiff. You slipped your arms around his neck and he watched your eyes flutter shut for a moment, a small contented hum coming from you; he let himself relax.

Out of your peripheral vision you could see Vander and Felicia turn their heads to look at you both, but after a while you managed to ignore them. Your eyes flicked back to Silco, settling on his exposed collarbone. There was a bruise blooming on his pale skin.

You tugged his shirt collar aside. “What’s this?” You demanded, raising an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes. “I got in a little scrap today,” he said flatly. You frowned, brow furrowing.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

He stiffened, hands falling away from you, and you immediately regretted the lack of warmth as your arms fell from his shoulders. He eyed you up and down- your lips pressed together tightly, the notch in your brow as you frowned. He took a step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, it looks like a hickey.” As if you’d suddenly become self-aware of your standoffish demeanour, you laughed to ease the tension. But it simply came out as forced and awkward.

“It’s not a hickey.” His expression was even.

“I mean, I don’t care if it’s a hickey,” you added hastily, eyes sliding away from his suspicious gaze.

“It’s not,” he repeated firmly.

You laughed and nudged him awkwardly. “Okay, but I really don’t care. At least I’d think you finally got lai- mmf!”

You were cut off as his hand closed around your mouth. He looked down at you, expression cold.

“Well, I care if you think it’s one. So for the last time- it’s not. Someone hit me with a pipe and it bruised.”

You made a muffled sound, and he pulled his hand away from your mouth to let you speak. You looked up at him, faced flush. 

“Why do you care if I think it’s one?”

He scoffed and his hands ghosted over your waist again, before travelling lower to settle on your hips. You gingerly looped your arms back to their original place, slung around his shoulders.

“Well, I don’t want you to think I’m off fucking someone else.”

Someone else? You frowned. “Why? It’s not my business. How does it affect me if-?”

He shushed you, and then twirled you around before giving you a lazy smile. You looked away, and you both settled back into the slow rhythm you were moving at before, and waited until the song ended.

You slid into a seat while Silco went to retrieve his journal and talk to the other two friends still at the bar. By now the bar had a few more people around, although it wasn’t quite packed full yet. You watched as Felicia grabbed his wrist and tugged him back to the table and Vander poured another glass.

You pushed your seat back and stood up, wandering over to them.

“You two were having fun,” Felicia quipped, taking another sip of her- now second- drink. You leaned over on your elbows and quirked a brow. 

“You sure that doesn’t have alcohol in it?”

“‘Course it doesn’t,” Vander said. You turned to Silco, who looked at you and sat down.

“Sit down, [name].” You shrugged at Vander.

“I’ll stand until I get tired.” Your eyes flicked over the bar, scouring the faces. “This place is…” You trailed off, twirling a piece of hair around your index finger thoughtfully, before turning entirely so your lower back was pressed to the bar counter, arms back and palms braced on the wood. Silco flipped through the pages of his journal, eyebrow raising as they settled on something scrawled on one of the pages.

“Is…?” Vander leaned forward. Felicia grinned, stirring the straw in her drink.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Amazing?” You tilted your head back to make eye contact with him. “You’ve built a place for the community here. I think that’s pretty great.”

“And you’re a part of this community,” Felicia added. You smiled at her gratefully. She paused. “You know, watching you two over in that corner makes me want another dance.” She took a long slurp from her straw. “I’ll just wait for Connol to get here, I suppose.”

Silco nudged you, showing the open journal. “What’s this?” There was an upwards tilt to the corners of his mouth, but he looked like he was trying his best to look solemn. 

“It’s you.” You poked the doodle, then his chest. Felicia leaned over.

“Let me see,” she whined, but Silco went to snap it shut- not before she grabbed it though. She looked at it, stroking her chin thoughtfully.

“I think it’s pretty accurate,” she said seriously. But then she turned around and tried to stifle a bout of laughter behind her palm.

“I look horrendous.”

You went to stand behind him, and brushed a few of the loose strands of hair out of his face. “You look lovely.”

“It’s accurate,” Felicia repeated, pushing the open book to Vander. Silco went to grab it but the larger man was too fast, lifting it to his face and smirking.

“I even signed it,” you pointed out unhelpfully. Silco turned around and glared at you.

“I do not look like that.”

“It’s a little stickman cartoon, not a hyper-realistic oil painting.”

“Cartoon or not, I don't have a rat’s face.”

You squished his rather hollow cheeks, tilting your head closer to him. “You do sort of resemble a rodent.”

You couldn’t tell if he was blushing from anger or embarrassment, or maybe both as he shoved you off of him. He snatched the book from Vander’s hands and snapped it shut rather aggressively.

“In a cute way though,” you added, to soothe the burn of the insult.

He rolled his eyes, blushing harder.

“It’s the nose,” Felicia said thoughtfully. Vander firmly placed his large palms on the counter as Silco bitterly rubbed his nose bridge.

“Come on, ladies. Let’s not give him any insecurities.”

You ceased your running your fingers through Silco’s now ruined bun as you leaned in close, lips just barely brushing the shell of his ear. “Don’t worry,” you whispered, and tilted your head. Your lips now just hovered on the skin beneath his ear. “I quite like your nose.”

He turned his head ever so slightly in your direction, a subtle movement easily missed. “Do you now?”

“I’m being genuine, rat man.” Suddenly acutely aware of your proximity, you pulled away, and tugged sharply on a small strand of hair, making him wince. “Take the compliment.”

He chuckled and nudged you off of his shoulder. The mess that was now his hair finally gave up, the band holding his dark locks together slipping off. You grabbed it. “Mind if I do your hair?”

He hummed, not sparing you a glance. You carded your fingers through the strands, only half-registering Felicia and Vander’s idle chatter as you tied Silco’s hair back firmly. Once you were done your hands fell back to your sides as you stepped away, and he turned to give you a bored but appreciative look.

“My beautiful rodent,” you said wistfully, admiring your handiwork, and thus earning yourself a fond, light smack on the top of your head with his journal.

A while after the sky had fully darkened, multiple conversations, and just enough drinks before the effects would hit you, you stood up, knocking your barstool back. Connol had already arrived a while back- he was mingling somewhere in the crowd, just having fulfilled Felicia’s wish to dance. The three looked at you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Felicia reached for you, trying to persuade you to stay. “It’s barely even midnight.”

“I need to get home to Alice. And- aren’t you pregnant? Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?”

She shrugged dismissively, leaning back. “I’ll sleep in tomorrow. I’m off work.”

You rolled your shoulders back, stretching out the knots that had worked their way into your stiff muscles. Silco stood up too, and Felicia’s eyes flew sharply to him. “You leaving us too?”

“I’m escorting [name] to the door,” he said coolly, then poked you in the ribs. You yelped and jerked away, hand flying to your side as he started for the door. You gave them both a final smile and wave, nodding to Vander.

“I’ll swing by with Alice tomorrow,” you told him, before stumbling after Silco.

The night air outside the Drop was colder than before. You stuffed your hands in your pockets and shivered, breath misting in the air. Silco walked a few steps with you, before taking your hand. You made a small noise of surprise as he grabbed your hand and suddenly pulled you into his chest.

“Silco?” You mumbled, voice muffled by his clothes. You pulled away your head so you could look at him. “What is it?”

His arms circled around your lower back, pulling you in closer and you could feel his breath warm on your lips, the only spot on your face that wasn’t freezing cold. Although, your face was starting to feel rather warm anyways. You put your palms on his chest.

He sighed softly and you nervously licked your lips. “Wish me luck.” His voice was no more than a whisper.

“What?” Your voice had involuntarily lowered too. 

“Say, ‘good luck Silco.’”

You sighed heavily, eyes fluttering shut as you decided to entertain him this once without any further questions. “Good luck, Silco.”

“Thank you.” He still didn’t move, and you shifted in his arms.

He pressed his forehead against yours, and you were fully convinced he could feel your heart beating against his own chest. One slight movement- one tilt of your head by a single inch, and his lips would be pressed against yours.

You didn’t dare move. “About the rat stuff,” you murmured, and his brows lifted slightly, eyes still half-lidded as he watched your lips move as you talked. “Don’t take it to heart. You look fine.”

“Just fine?” He sounded amused.

“I quite like your face,” you admitted. He chuckled, eyes locked onto yours, before moving closer. You froze, expecting his lips to touch yours.

But instead they gently pressed against the top of your cheekbone, feather light. “Get home safe, [name].” His hands moved from your waist to your hips, squeezing lightly before releasing you.

Your hands slipped from his chest and you shoved them back into your jacket, shuffling your feet. “R-right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He waved as you walked away. You tripped on a rock, stumbling a little and heard him laugh. Relishing the sound, you threw him a smile over your shoulder as you disappeared into the night, feeling warm inside. You couldn’t suppress your elated smile.

-

Little did you know you would not be seeing him tomorrow.

Because tomorrow was the day that Alice, Felicia and Connol died. The day he almost drowned. The day you’d lose everything.

You turned up the dark collar of your coat to shield you from the cold winds of the undercity as you and a gaggle of people briskly walked towards the Last Drop. The rain pattered onto the ground, small droplets rippling through the puddles, distorting your own reflection.

You reached the door of the bar, and for a moment you could almost see your younger self standing in that very spot.

You pulled your coat tighter around yourself, shivering lightly, and fumbled with the lighter- it wouldn’t work, despite your clicking. The door creaked but you paid it no mind.

“Struggling?”

You turned to see Silco looking at you, hand outstretched.

You pushed the thoughts away before the nausea could get the best of you and make you throw up all over your henchmen. 

The windows were flashing with light and you could hear the bustle of the night crowd from inside the building. Water rolled off of the sign and down the pipes as you looked at your men, placing a firm hand on the doorknob- then pushed the door open, stepping into the heart of the beast.

You straightened your back, going straight to the counter like it was muscle memory. You flicked your head at the bartender. “Give me something not too strong,” you said. “To calm my nerves.”

At your cold expression he nodded hastily and scrambled to get your drink ready. A presence loomed over your shoulder; you didn’t even bother to turn your head.

“Sevika,” you said smoothly. The woman put a large hand on your shoulder.

“The back,” she said flatly.

You stood up, and caught your men’s eye from across the bar. They all sauntered towards you, eyeing up Sevika. You jammed your hands in the pockets of your coat and nodded at them.

She flicked her head at you, then turned, her cloak swishing about her. You planted your feet firmly on the ground, having to raise your voice over the din.

“Where exactly are we going?” You almost-yelled. She turned. 

“There’s an office at the back.”

You froze. She raised a dark eyebrow. “Not Silco’s,” she clarified, and you relaxed, shoving past her.

“I don’t care if it’s his or not,” you sneered. She crossed her arms. 

“You sure about that?”

“One hundred percent,” you said coldly. She laughed.

“We’ll see about that.”

Now it was her turn to shove past you. You stared after her.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You turned and looked at your men, jerking your head in Sevika’s direction. And then you followed her through the door.

By the time the bartender set down your drink onto the counter you were already gone. 

-

The office was gloomy, to say the least. And dark. A desk at the top, with a large window. A sofa on one side, a table on the other. Sevika flopped down on the sofa, and you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg. 

The chair at the front desk was turned around, so you could only see the back of it. Sevika looked at you. There were about three other men in the corner- Silco’s, no doubt. You sniffed disdainfully. Your own employees- the three guilty ones- were exchanging uneasy looks, glancing around shiftily. 

The office smelled of tobacco, and you noticed an ashtray on the desk. No sign of the man himself. You relaxed a little. Scowling, you went to stand in front of Sevika. 

“I’ll sit there,” you said. “You drag a chair over here.” And to mark the spot you tapped your foot.

She stared at you disbelievingly but did as you said. You leaned back, slinging an arm around the back of the couch. You needed a cigarette, you thought, and pulled one out, putting it in between your teeth. You turned your head back to look expectantly at one of your men.

He fumbled with the light before holding it beneath your roll-up. As it snapped shut you pulled the cigarette from your lips, blowing out a slow curl of smoke. You then nodded at him.

He and his friend stepped forward, grabbing the three men by the shoulders. One list and they were forced to their knees. Cries of protest arose.

“Madam-“

“-what are you-“

Silco’s men stepped forward to help but you flashed them a glare so terrifying they stepped back. You moved your eyes back to Sevika and addressed your own men.

“Fight back, and you’ll regret it,” you said lazily, eyes fixed on the woman sat in front of you. You jerked your head at Silco’s men. “I want them out.”

“But the trade-“

“It won’t be necessary.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she didn’t say anything- simply turned to the men and nodded. They filed out obediently. She turned back to you.

“Now get on with it,” you said, lips twitching with distaste. Sevika scowled, intertwining her fingers.

“You said you take in innocent people who need a fresh start, [name],” she said steadily. Then tilted her head. “Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.”

“Stop speaking so eloquently.” You took a drag of your cigarette. “It doesn’t suit you. Hurry up and get to the point.”

Sevika sat back, scowling, and then jabbed a finger in the general direction where your three men stood. The other two stepped away from them, to stand at your left. You frowned, cigarette dangling from your lips as you twisted around to take the papers one of your men were offering you.

The men in the corner exchanged looks, panic slowly rising. You flicked through the papers, humming. Called out a name.

“You. You said you were running from a gang that was targeting you despite your innocence.” You scrutinised the sheet, then looked up to Sevika for conformation. She rolled her eyes.

“He blew up one of our cargo ships,” she said flatly. You moved onto the next guy.

“Needed a fresh start,” you said simply.

“Stole in bulk from a shimmer factory,” Sevika said. You sniffed distastefully, and she added: “While he was with you.”

You nodded silently, moving to the last paper. “And you… you said you were saving money to pay for your sister's illness treatment but couldn’t afford rent at the same time.”

Sevika shrugged. “Cargo. Explosion. He was involved.”

The first guy, a rather scrawny looking fellow, looked at you with panic. “Madam, you won’t- what are you-“ he looked at Sevika in panic. You raised a finger to your lips, eyes glittering dangerously, and he pressed his own together, eyes wide with fear.

Sevika rolled one of her shoulders back, eyes closing as her muscles stretched deliciously. “One would think you’d keep better tabs on your employees.” She looked down at you, a clear disdain in her eyes.

You raised an eyebrow as she continued. “You just take in anyone these days? What if they take advantage of you?” She jerked her head at the men. “Like these idiots?”

“Most of the people coming to me are women and children,” you said, struggling to keep your voice at a reasonable level. “And you think I just take them in for free? They pay rent and they work.”

“You need to look into people before you take them in,” she stressed. “And you definitely need to watch what they’re doing while under your employ.”

You took a long drag of your cigarette, watching her unflinchingly. She shifted uncomfortably under your scrutiny.

“What they do outside of work is none of my business,” you said boredly.

“It comes back around to you.”

“I’ll make sure it stays their problem.” You looked at the three men and smiled sweetly. They gulped.

“Some people won’t let it be just their problem,” Sevika protested. You raised a hand, stopping her mid-lecture, and tilted your head.

“Why do you care?” Your face was perpetually unimpressed as you watched her lean back and cross her arms. “What happens to me isn’t any of your problem.”

Sevika sighed slowly. “Right, well… I suggest looking into the credibility of your employees’ stories regardless.”

“Like I said. Big words don’t suit you.” You smirked, inhaling the smoke of your fag and blowing it out slowly. “Go back to talking like an idiot.” Sevika bristled. 

“[name].”

Suddenly, you scoffed. Stubbing the cigarette out on the armrest, the fabric sizzling, you tossed the papers to the floor. A good number of people flinched.

“What makes you think I don’t look into them?” You hissed, voice dripping with venom. “What makes you think I didn’t know? You’re stupid if you think I wouldn’t take the chance to take in your adversaries. The fact that a couple of scrawny, chicken-legged boys could blow up one of your shipments is already sad enough.” You took a shaky drag of your cigarette, your leg bouncing up and down agitatedly. “And now you’re scrabbling at my feet for me to hand them over? Pathetic.” The last word was like a bullet. 

With the storm brewing in her expression you expected her to stand up and lunge at you. But then she seemed to catch something in her vision, and froze. The entire room fell silent.

Clapping.

“Bravo.” The voice was smooth, steady. Cold. A shiver ran down your spine. “That was quite the speech.”

You turned to look at the desk. The high-backed chair turned slowly.

The first thing that met your gaze was the sea-blue you’d grown so accustomed to staring at in your past. And then the chair turned fully.

You stared straight into Silco’s mismatched eyes, horrified.

Furious.

Even Sevika found it unnerving to watch you practically shut down. Silco let out a short breath of amusement, before his eyes flicked to the three idiots on the floor, and the two men behind you.

He waved a dismissive hand at all of them. “I want them out.”

Everyone looked at you, waiting for your permission. But you’d barely even heard him.

You studied his face. His eye.

Jagged lines ran from the corner of his mouth to his brow, and his eye had been replaced entirely. Volcanic embers glowed at you from the darkness. His hair was shorter, and he obviously looked older, but-

Janna, what the fuck happened to him?

You almost forgot that this was the man you were supposed to be angry at, until you snapped back to reality and saw him looking at you with an expression devoid of any warmth.

“[name],” Sevika said. You turned your head slightly to the men behind you, hair obscuring your face.

“Out,” you muttered.

You had about eight seconds to compose yourself before they’d all left, and someone finally spoke. You spent two pulling yourself together, three to harden yourself and suppress any emotions, two to remind yourself that the Silco who was sitting in front of you was a different person entirely, and one to stare him dead in the eyes. Seven seconds passed. 

Your eyes flicked up from the floor to his scarred face.

“Silco,” you said in greeting, and you didn’t even recognise your own voice.

The corner of his mouth twitched, ever so slightly- it was barely noticeable. But then he chuckled. The sound was low, dangerous. Your hand dug into your armrest as you watched him stand up, pulling out a cigarette- no, a cigar, and lighting it up. He took a long, deep drag, watching you carefully.

He blew out the smoke. “[name].”

“You’ve upgraded, I see,” you said sardonically. He stared at you, face stone cold, and your eyes flicked to the cigar poised in his hand, flicking your head towards it. 

He didn’t reply, and the tension built up until it was pressing down on you like a million weighted blankets. 

“Sevika. Leave us.”

Sevika immediately complied, eager to remove herself from the situation.

He took her seat, unflinchingly holding your gaze. A deep, bitter resentment took hold in your chest.

How was he so unbothered?

You took out another cigarette, and reached into your pocket for your lighter. Your fist closed around nothing. You silently cursed: your henchman had it on him, and had taken it on his way out.

Something clicked. You looked up. Silco was leaning over, arm outstretched, to offer you the open flame of his own lighter. 

You stared at him, eyes studying the scar lines, and then the curve of his nose, before placing the cigarette in between your teeth. Your blood was pounding in your ears as you leaned forward, and the end of the cigarette lit up. You pulled away at the same time as him, the lighter snapping shut.

The tension was constricting your lungs now. You took a slow drag, unsure of what to say.

“Sevika told me you wanted a trade.” His voice snapped you out of your stupor. “You never mentioned exactly what you wanted.” He quirked a brow. “Or should I say, who.”

You leaned forward, balancing your elbows on your knees as you blew tendrils of smoke, watching them skim across the table in between you both. You took another deep breath- this time, one of oxygen, and sighed it out.

“Is that what you’re going to start with?” You asked dryly. He simply cocked his head, expectantly.

You did not know who, or what, was sitting in front of you. You didn’t know what to do with it. And it terrified you.

“Let’s start with this.” You tipped your head downwards, eyes still locked onto his. “The day of the massacre is the day that Alice died.” You rolled your cigarette in between your fingers. “Half for a failed uprising that I wasn’t told about-“ your expression darkened, “-Half for two men who just couldn’t wait to have at each other’s throats.”

At this Silco stiffened, eye widening ever-so-slightly. You took a drag on the cigarette, tipping your head back to blow a steady stream of smoke to the rafters.

“I wake up,” you whispered. “No one will tell me anything. No one will keep me around. I’ve lost my job-“ you waved around the cigarette, a trail of smoke following your movements, “-two of my friends, my home. I’m banned from the Last Drop. Vander’s abandoned me. Everyone, gone.” You tore your eyes from the ceiling to settle back onto him again. “That leaves you.”

A muscle in Silco’s face twitched as you took a small drag, then giggled, smoke seeping from in between your teeth. The sound was unnervingly hysterical. 

“But you’ve disappeared too. No note, no word, nothing.” You paused, and your voice afterwards had turned from cold to angry. “And then I hear that you’re putting Shimmer out onto the streets.”

Your voice is dripping with your anger as you shamelessly, pointedly stared at his scar. “How many promises is that broken?”

Silco inhaled from his cigar. Despite your monologue, he seemed completely unaffected- bored, even. “Finalise the deal, so I can move on with my night.”

You balled your hand into a fist so hard your nails cut into your palm, drawing blood. You stood up. The cigarette fell to the floor as you stepped towards him, bracing your hand on the back of his chair and leaning in close, close enough to smell the smoke on his breath.

He didn’t move away. He stared you down.

“I told Vander this,” you whispered softly, “And I’ll tell you too.”

He looked at you silently. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

At this, he scoffed, suddenly pushing off of the back of his chair. You instinctively leaned back a little as he leaned forward, into you. 

“Did you?” He mocked.

“Excuse me?” Your voice was barely audible.

“Did you kill him?” 

You scowled, fury rising. But you pushed it down. Straightening up, you dusted yourself off.

“I want Sevika,” you said firmly. Silco raised an eyebrow, scowling.

“You can’t have her.”

A knife from your wrist slammed into his chair.

It just barely grazed the skin of his neck. He barely flinched, but he did stiffen. You leaned back in, lips curling into a snarl.

“Five favours from Sevika, or you don’t get your little outlaws. Don’t make this thorn in your side persist any longer than it needs to be.”

His hand closed around your wrist.

He tugged sharply, and you yelped, stumbling forward. His mouth was right next to your ear.

“And who’s to say that she hasn’t knocked out your men right now, and dealt with those three herself?” You couldn’t see his face but you could hear the twisted smirk in his voice alone, and suppressed a growl.

“Then I’ll kill you right here and now, you pasty old bastard,” you spat, yet your voice came out breathy.

Your knife-sharp, metal-tipped fingertips glinted in the dim light. You watched his eyes follow the movements of your digits as you curled them, drawing the sharpness to his attention. You moved your detained hand closer to his face- he let you- and the sharp metal nails drew a small, shallow cut across his cheek. His grip on your wrist tightened so hard it was painful- you were certain it would bruise.

“Deal.” He sounded bored, and suddenly released your wrist. You stepped back, tugging out the knife as he pushed himself up, almost getting a little too close for comfort, and watched as he went to his desk, cradling your wrist. The chair had a small indent on it.

“Are you seriously going to ignore everything before the bridge massacre?” You were twitching, volatile, and ran a restless hand through your hair.

He didn’t reply.

“Silco.” You hated how broken you sounded to your own ears.

Still no reply. His back turned to you, so you couldn’t see his face. Your grip on the knife clutched in your hand tightened, the handle digging into your skin, and spun around, hand clamping down to suffocate the scream of frustration you let out.

You whirled around and threw the knife at him.

He didn’t flinch as it shot through the air and landed on his desk, an inch away from him. The metal glinted dangerously. You could hear your own breathing.

By the time he was back in his chair you were already at the door.

You flung it open, shoving past Sevika. You nodded aggressively at your two men. The other three were huddled at the end of the hallway, tied with a rope. You didn’t spare them as much as a glance.

“Come on,” you snapped, hands shaking as you fumbled with your coat’s buttons. You ignored the concerned looks thrown your way as you practically ran down the stairs, eager to escape the bar.

By the time you’d reached outside your two henchmen were doubled over, panting.

“Do you really have to go that fast, Madam-? Madam?”

Your brisk footsteps had turned into a run, all the way back to the brothel.

-

In your office, you slammed the door closed, and bit the back of your hand to muffle a piercing scream. You picked up a half-filled glass of water on the table, and threw it violently against the wall. It shattered, glass showering over the carpet as you pressed your back to the wall opposite, sinking to the floor.

An incoherent string of curses poured from your mouth, whispered shakily under your breath.

How can he throw it all away? How can he make me his enemy? You resisted the urge rock back and forth, instead tugging at your hair. I’m going to kill him. No, I’m going to kill myself. No, him. No, myself. H-

You thought of the knife you’d thrown.

Was I aiming to kill him?

One meeting, and everything was crumbling.

“Madam?” 

You looked up, eyes bloodshot.

You hadn’t even noticed you were crying.

Allison crouched down to your level, offering you a handkerchief. You gingerly took it, heartbeat slowing down as you wiped the hot tears that were cascading down your face.

“Thanks,” you muttered under your breath. The poor, innocent girl just hummed and smiled, hands outstretched to take your coat.

You shrugged the damn thing off and dumped it in her hands, making your way to your bedroom. You heard the lock of the office door click behind you. 

You opened the door, then looked at Allison. She was picking up the broken glass pieces. You abandoned the door, walking towards her, then sitting down on the couch to beckon for her. “Don’t touch the glass. I’ll get someone else to do it.”

Allison looked at you, staring at your tear stained face. “Do you want to talk about it, Madam?”

You frowned, then patted your lap. Allison laid down on the couch so her head rested on your thighs, and you tilted your head back against the back of the couch.

“Kids,” you said, voice raspy. “So innocent. Unafraid.” 

You had in inkling that Allison would think you’d gone mad with your rambling, but ignored it.

“I can’t believe he treats me like an adversary. After years of no word, he just erases it all.” You held up your bruised wrist. “This hurts, you know.”

Allison nodded sympathetically.

“And what the fuck did Vander to do him? His eye?” You sighed, head turning restlessly as you tried to find a comfortable position. You felt a pang of regret dig it’s hold into your chest.

“Whatever,” you finished. “That was years ago. He doesn’t deserve any sympathy anymore- it’s too late.” You looked down at Allison’s face. “The bastard is responsible for Shimmer.”

Allison hummed as you ran a shaky hand through your hair, cheeks and nose burning from your involuntary episode earlier. You pulled your hand from her locks and raised a finger.

“He promised we would stick together. That he wouldn’t ditch me.” You scowled. “One promise broken.”

You extended another finger. “Alice would be safe in the Last Drop. Promise broken.”

Allison watched, fascinated.

You stuck out a third finger. “Promised that he wouldn’t become a fucking drug lord.” Despite the fact that it was made as a throwaway idea, it still stung bitterly. “Even after I told the rat about my sister.”

You extended a final finger. “Promised me he’d be safe.” Your voice cracked a little. Allison nestled into your stomach, curling up. You dropped you hand to card your finger through the dull brown strands. “I suppose he didn’t break that one completely.”

“He breaks a lot of promises,” Allison remarked, voice muffled by your clothes. You nodded, a sudden wave of fatigue washing over you.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. He means nothing to me.”

Alice’s wide green eye looked up at you. “He sounds like a bad guy. Good people always keep their promises.”

“He’s a very bad guy,” you said gravely.

“Do you keep your promises, Madam?”

You thought back. 

“…I suppose I won’t work in a brothel either.”

“Or own one,” he added. You laughed.

“Or own one.”

“Yes,” you lied, pain twisting through your chest.

You didn’t know how long it took for the both of you to lie there in silence, before you fell asleep.

-

“I’m never letting go of you.”

Silco looked at you, quirking a brow as he silently watched you munch on your apple. You were both sitting by the riverbank, the sun beating down on you and warming the ground.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He picked up a rock. It wasn’t flat, so he couldn’t skim it- so he just tossed it into the water as far as he could throw it. You could just barely hear the splash.

“I mean, you’re stuck with me for life. We are not ever parting ways.”

“Is that so?” He already had his attention on another rock, turning it over to inspect it like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “That’s quite ominous. Consider my timbers shivered.”

You laughed. “Okay, but seriously. I love you.”

He turned to look at you, surprised. “You what?”

“I love you,” you repeated firmly. At his flushed face, you scoffed. “You know this doesn’t mean I’m confessing to you, right? God forbid a woman appreciates another man.”

“Right.” He threw the rock into the serene waters. You frowned at him.

“Did I overstep?”

He laughed, amused at your worried expression. “Of course not. Why would you telling me you appreciate me be overstepping?” He took out a pack of cigarettes.

You immediately crawled towards him, shoving yourself in his face. “Cig, please.”

He pulled a face. “No. You never give anything back.”

He put one in between his lips, and you pouted, pulling out your lighter. Sitting up on your knees, your torso at the same height as his head, you held the lighter for him before flopping back down. He straightened up a little, listening to you grumble as he took a quick drag.

“You have an addiction,” he said, then looked at you before handing you the cigarette. Your eyes lit up as he passed it to you, taking it eagerly.

“I prefer the word dedication,” you retorted, leaning over to him to blow smoke in his face. He scrunched up his nose and you laughed. “Cute.” He flushed. You assumed it was from the smoke.

You flicked the cigarette at him, and he scrambled to catch it, face turning an even deeper shade of blush. “Well, I need to go now. Alice is waiting.”

He looked up quickly. “Wait, name.”

You were already hurrying off, away from the riverbank. He stretched out his hand.

“I lo-“

You turned around a corner and disappeared.

His hand fell to his side, and he sighed, looking away and crossing his arms. The cigarette fell to the ground and he crushed it beneath his heel, cursing softly under his breath.

-

You woke, gasping, drenched in sweat. Your eyes flitted around the dark room. Allison was heavy in your lap, her chest moving up and down slowly to show she was still awake.

You let out a slow, shaky breath. A head of perspiration rolled down the side of your neck.

It was hot. You wanted to tear your clothes off.

Why the fuck did I dream that?

You tried to fall back asleep, to no avail. 

You peeled your eyelids open. They felt practically glued shut as you eased Allison off of your lap- you felt feverishly hot, clothes sticking to your skin uncomfortably as you got up to take a much-needed shower. 

Allison woke up too, blinking. She looked fully rested. Regretting your lack of sleep, you disappeared into your bedroom to get ready for the day.

By the time you were done Allison had disappeared from the office and a man was sweeping up the glass from the carpet. You nodded at him as you put your hand on the doorknob, opening the door to reveal a veil of golden beaded strings.

“Leave even a single piece and I’ll cut your head off,” you said casually as you stepped through the curtain. He looked up at you nervously.

“Yes, Madam.”

You entered the lobby. You stepped out of the large, curved entrance you had for your office, turning around to see the rosy, warm, inviting interior before walking across the lush carpet of the front lobby, going for the stairs. The door opened and the familiar heavy frame of Sevika walked in. 

“[name],” she said breathlessly, stepping forward towards you. “Silco told me about the deal. The-“

You walked straight past her.

You could feel her eyes burning onto your back as you stalked up the stairs, not sparing her another glance. Reaching the landing you leaned against the railing, taking a peek downstairs. You could just see the edge of Sevika’s boot, before she moved past the foot of the stairs to duck into a hallway. Another pair of feet followed her.

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself off of your leaning position, going down the hallway. You eventually reached the room you’d put Allison and her friend in, rapping your knuckles twice on the door.

The door opened to reveal the little girl, hair straight and black and dark. She looked up at you, shadows under her eyes, and panic flitted across her face.

“Madam,” she said quickly.

You didn’t bother with greetings or formalities. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

She looked at you, as if she was wondering which answer would get her head chopped off and which answer would get her a pat on the back. You continued:

“I don’t like little girls who lie.”

“I haven’t,” she admitted.

“Why not?”

“Sleep terrors.” You stepped into her room as she opened the door a little wider.

The place was sparse, with two bunk beds, a light and a rug. There was a tiny sack dumped in the corner, very few belongings spilling onto the hard wood.

You clicked your tongue, hands behind your back as you slowly turned, surveying the room. At least the beds were made, you noticed. The children were neat.

“What do you need?”

The girl looked up at you nervously. “Wh-what?”

“A shelf,” you remarked, looking at the empty space on the walls. “Would you like a desk? Can you read or write?”

She nodded silently. 

“After I get you the basic components, this room is free for you to personalise as you wish.” With a twirl of your hand, you produced a small pin in between your fingers. “I need you measured for some new clothes too.” You crouched down to her level. “After that, you do whatever you want as long as you don’t get yourself in trouble. We give our people freedom here.”

“Does this place have a name?”

You stared at her sallow face, taken off guard by the question, then brushed aside her hair. “I’m not sure yet. All these years, and we’ve never had a name.” People usually called it the brothel. What did you have in mind?”

“The House.”

You laughed. “It’s quite boring for someplace as glamorous as this, don’t you think?” You eased the pin into her hair. “Here. This pin will mark you as a member of, er… this place.”

She ghosted her little fingers over it. “The Haven.”

You licked your lips, turning the name over in your head. “That’s… where did you learn a word like that?”

“I met a girl who told me about this place. She said it was a haven for people who were running away. I never knew what it meant.”

You hummed, then straightened up. “That’s a great name.”

“Thank you,” she said bashfully, shuffling her feet. Without another word you left through the door, hurrying down the stairs and back to your office.

You had barely made it to the beads before you heard your name again. You groaned, turning around to face Sevika. 

“What do you want?”

“Five favours, huh?”

“I’ll call on you five times, and you will do whatever I tell you to without question.”

She laughed. “Or what? What if I don’t?” She took a step towards you. “You think you can just make me?”

You shrugged, clasping your hands together, the image of piety. “If you want to kill Donna, be my guest.”

She froze. “What?”

“What?” You batted your lashes at her innocently, beginning to circle her. She turned, eyes tracking your every move. “Is there something wrong?”

“What do you mean, kill Donna,” she hissed. You stopped walking, and turned to look at her abruptly.

“I mean, if you don’t follow the rules of the deal, Donna dies. It’s simple, really.”

You could see her clench her jaw. “Well, I wasn’t planning on disobeying anyways.”

“I’m sure you weren’t.” Your voice was smooth.

“I was just testing to see your reaction.”

“I’m sure you were.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a good person, [name]?”

You smiled thinly. “That’s far too much credit than what’s due. What ever gave you that idea?”

She stared at you disbelievingly. “You take in people in need. What else is there to say?”

You raised a finger. “One could say I exploit people in need. Sure, I exploit them with a strict moral code, but I’m using them nonetheless. It’s purely transactional. I know they need me, and I take advantage of it.” You shrugged. “Don’t go getting excited, now.”

“[name], if anything happens to Donna…” Sevika’s voice was a growl. You crossed your arms, sweeping a languid hand over your chin.

“Well, her performance has been quite lacklustre lately…” you snickered at her expression.

“I’ll fucking kill you with my own two hands.”

“I doubt you’d want to suffer the consequences of that.” Your eyes flicked to her cloaked shoulder. “No one would like it if you killed me with your one, single hand.”

Sevika stared at you, breathing heavily. Agitated. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Anything to get a rise out of my adversaries-“

She grabbed your shoulder, fingertips digging into your skin. You clicked your tongue, irritated.

“Ah- ah- ah. Don’t go assaulting me,” you gasped, scandalised. You drew your face close to hers, grinning. She scowled at you. Your eyes flicked to the corner.

There were about ten people standing in the corner, completely frozen from whatever they were doing. They all stared at Sevika unblinkingly. A silent warning.

“That’s creepy,” she muttered.

“I know,” you said gleefully. She released your shoulder and you stumbled back. 

“Since when are we your adversaries?” She snarled. “We just struck a successful deal, for fucks sake. On amicable terms.”

I threw a knife at your boss. What part of that is amicable?

You scowled. “He will never be able to consider me an ally after the way he did me wrong, understood?” You stormed forward, jabbing a finger into her chest. “On my dead body will I help you sewer rats for anything that doesn’t involve my gain.”

“And what’s your gain?” Sevika whispered, voice scathing. You smiled widely, eyes glinting.

“His loss.”

-

“We need to expand.”

There was a map rolled out across the dark wood of your desk. You tapped a carefully manicured finger onto a specific spot in the undercity. Donna leaned over, inspecting the map with her sharp eyes. You drew slow circles on the spot and tapped it again. Allison was sitting on the sofa, watching you both with childlike interest.

“There’s too many people seeking asylum. We don’t have enough space.” You waved your hand to the ceiling. “Despite this place being massive, we need more.”

Donna propped herself up on her elbows, eyes tracing the river drawn on the map. “What’s that place?” She looked at where your finger was touching.

“It’s an old property that just got abandoned. Used to be a factory. The owner died to enforcers after he refused to give it up.”

“Why’d they make him give it up?”

“No idea. Probably because it wasn’t ’up to code,’ what they always say.” You bent over the table, eyes glinting. “They just don’t want Zaun to progress. To get more powerful.” Your voice was a dangerous hiss.

“How would one factory change that?”

Your eyes went from narrowed to normal and your muscles relaxed. “You’d be surprised.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “The enforcers just left after they finished moving all the stuff out yesterday night. The place is up for grabs.”

“Who’s to say we’ll get there on time? Before anyone else does?”

“I am,” you said firmly. “Send a team out, now, and set up something there. Spray our insignia on the front so no one dares to take it.”

So that was the plan. Take the factory, occupy it, and set it up. Of course you’d still run operations from the brothel- the Haven- but you could have it used as accommodation and more.

Donna was looking up at you with something akin to admiration in her eyes. You gave her a small, thin smile. You quite liked the girl.

You really hoped Sevika wouldn’t make you have to kill her.

“We were too late.”

Donna leaned in the door way, flicking your lighter, open, shut, open, shut. You frowned, putting down the papers you were going through to look up at her from your position of being sprawled across the couch in a mass of silk and velvet.

“What do you mean, we were too late?” A slow feeling of anxiety began to worm its way into your gut as you straightened up a little. Donna sighed apologetically.

“I mean, our guys got there, but there were other people there instead. They drew the- our- mark but it’s been crossed out in red paint.”

At this you stood up, clipboard clattering to the floor. “Crossed out?” You snarled, affronted. “Who the fuck are these-“

Donna sighed again and ran her hand through her hair. “They’re Silco’s, [name].”

“Oh.” The words were a stab to your chest. “Oh. Oh.”

Donna silently watched you grow more and more hysterical. You laughed nervously, hands trembling as you paced the room.

“Well, kick them out.”

Donna shrugged, arms crossed. “We’re trying.” You tugged on a lock of hair, full of jumpy anxiety. Donna half expected you to start bouncing off of the walls. “But [name], we can’t make an enemy out of him.”

“NO!” You stomped your foot, and the room rattled. Donna flinched, and you could hear your own heavy breathing through the thick, tense, silence.

“This is him trying to take over the Lanes, and fill in the gap Vander created,” you finally muttered shakily. “We can’t let him take the factory. We need it more than he does.”

Donna shrugged again. “Well, should we send in backup?”

You waved your hand at her, turning away. “If you please.”

She left the room, footsteps soft on the carpet as you dragged your hands across your face.

The bastard was ruining everything.

-

“Sometimes I wonder if this is all even worth it.”

You and Silco had found yourself on a new roof this time, flat and square. The moon hung overhead as you crouched, fiddling with a music disc.

At his words, you looked up. “All worth what?”

“This… dream of Zaun.” He was leaning against the raised concrete ledge that surrounded the edge of the roof, and ran a hand through his hair. You could tell he was agitated.

You frowned, stepping closer to him, the disc still in your hand. “What happened, Silco?”

“Nothing happened, just-“ he inhaled deeply, and fell silent. You circled your arms around his, and leaned your head against his side, eyes fluttering shut.

“You’re lying,” you hummed, and you felt him tense and then relax against you, leaning into your warmth.

“I am,” he muttered. You let out a small chuckle, barely moving.

“Tell me.”

“A raid topside went wrong,” he admitted. You suddenly released your grip on him, stepping back to look at him in shock.

“Is that why you’ve been limping all day?”

“[name], no-“

“Tell me you weren’t there.” You almost reached over and shook him. “Tell me right now.”

“It’s just a raid topside. It’s happened many times before.”

“Sure, you’ve gone on missions upstairs,” you hissed, fists clenched. “But now you have a promise to keep.”

He let out a slow exhale, massaging his temples as though you were giving him a migraine. “You know, you always do this. I always have to calm you down, after you blow up over nothing-“

You threw the music record to the ground. 

“You potentially going to Piltover, getting caught and hurting yourself isn’t nothing,” you snapped. He scowled and you stepped back, falling silent and clutching your hands to your chest at the purely bitter look he gave you.

Who knew one look could hurt you this much?

He barely even seemed to notice. “For fuck’s sake, [name]. You come over to me, you get all cozy and you act like you’re about hold me and tell me everything’s okay- but no, instead you have to yell in my face and tell me exactly what I already know-“ he stabbed a finger in your direction, and it felt like a knife- “But more aggressively, and obnoxiously.” His voice was rising. “And then I have to calm you down so you fucking shut up about it for another- what, ten minutes?”

You stepped back again, blinking. Your eyes were burning. “O-okay, I’m sorry.”

“Seriously,” he snarled.

“Seriously, I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked a little and his eyes widened as he straightened up, taking a step towards you.

“Shit, wait-“

“No.” You leaned down to pick up the discarded record. “You’re right.” You had to stare hard at the ground to keep the tears threatening to fall at bay. 

The second he raises his voice and you’re already blubbering? This is plain embarrassing.

“[name], I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you.”

“I raised it first.” You didn’t look at him as you held the record to your chest and went to the gramophone, crouching back down to try and get it to work.

You could hear his footsteps come towards you, and your hands shook a little as he bent down. You clumsily fumbled with the contraption, which quite conveniently refused to cooperate.

He took your chin in your hand and tilted your face towards him. You refused to look at him. 

“You’re right to be angry at me,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re…” your voice that was barely a whisper trailed off as you moved your head away from his hand. “It’s fine. I get you have to do- you- you need action, to get results.” 

“You do.” You turned and looked at him. He flicked his eyes down your face and you flushed a little. “But you’re still right. Although sometimes I just want someone to reassure me instead of tell me off,” he murmured, breath warm on your skin. You nodded, a subtle dip of your chin.

“You’re right. I’ll do that.”

He laughed. “Well, it’s different when I ask you to, isn’t it?”

“I’d want to do that anyways. I-I just…” you trailed off and took a deep breath to recollect yourself as your voice grew shaky. “What if you do something reckless and I lose you forever?”

“I’m not the type to do anything reckless.”

“Rebellion brings out parts of people that usually are unseen,” you said seriously, and he laughed, resting his head on top of yours. You chuckled lightly too, leaning into his touch.

“Very wise,” was the playful response. You rolled your eyes, the gramophone forgotten. 

“It is,” you retorted.

“I know, which is why I said it.”

You pulled away and looked at him, then rested your palm on his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin. “It’ll be okay, Silco. You’ll figure this Zaun thing out.”

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “I hope so.”

“Well, I know so.”

You both fell into comfortable silence, counting the stars.

Breaking the silence, he chuckled. “One reprimand and you already started tearing up? I didn’t take you for someone so sensitive.”

You shifted against him. “I’m not,” you muttered. “It’s just worse when it’s you.”

“Now you know how I feel.”

You hummed. “I suppose I do, rat man.”

-

There was a banging on your office door.

You heard a commotion outside.

“…no, ma’am, not when the door is closed-“

“It means that…”

“-Sevika!”

Donna’s strained voice drifted through your door. You stepped towards it and flung it open.

“Sevika,” you said calmly.

The group of masked women crowded around Sevika dispersed upon seeing you, fluttering away in a panic. Sevika shifted from side to side, a frown on her face as she eyed you up and down.

She stormed into your office. You let her. Nodding at a rather concerned looking Donna, you shut the door.

“Call off your men,” you said coolly. Sevika turned, foot tapping impatiently against the carpeted floor.

“How about you call off yours?”

You both stared each other down, glaring daggers.

“I need that building,” you hissed. Sevika rolled her eyes.

“Well, we need it too. And we have it, so fuck off.”

“You do not want to fuck with me.” Your arm sliced through the air. “I’ll blow up the damn building if it means I get to keep the empty shell.” The dangerous threat lingered in the air, a promise to be kept.

Sevika snorted. “I mean, at that point, you can be our guest.”

“Call off the men, Sevika,” you whispered dangerously. “Or I’ll fucking make life hell for you and Silco.”

Sevika stared down at you, unimpressed. You looked back at her with a confidence you hadn’t felt in a while now.

She sighed. “Come on, [name]. We could be allies. We could be taking over this damn factory together.”

“I’m not fucking sharing a factory,” you spat. “The fuck you even need it for?”

Sevika pressed her lips together.

“Of course,” you scoffed. “More Shimmer production. That’s it, isn’t it?” You paced the room angrily. “You want to fuel your little drug empire?”

“You’re acting like it’s me,” she said flatly. “It’s Silco.”

“You work for him,” you sneered. “It’s the same fucking thing.” 

“I don’t know why you’re so set on what’s right or wrong when you know full well you’ve got your own shit going on.” Sevika snorted, and you let out a small noise of fury. “Look, [name]. Turf wars aren’t something fun to giggle at. Be the bigger person, and avoid it.”

“Be the bigger person?” You could laugh. “No way you’re telling me to be the bigger person. Acting as if you’re not the ones taking a building that could serve as a home to men, women, and children and using it to make one of the very things that is the root of all those people’s problems.”

“Stop playing the heroine. You said it yourself- these people are yours to exploit. You see them as expendable.”

You blanched. “Expendable? Expendable?” The sudden urge to throw something heavy at her seized you, but you pushed down the thought. “These people are not expendable.”

“The second they have no use for you, you get rid of them.”

“Everyone has a use, one way or another.”

“Call off your men.”

“Get out.”

“Call off your men.”

“Make sure to say goodbye to Donna on the way out,” you dug at her slyly. “It’ll be the last one you’ll ever say to her.”

She flinched, but planted her feet to the ground. “Call. Them. Off.”

You were certain the entire brothel could hear you when you roared with fury.

“GET THE FUCK OUT!”

The fight for the factory has been escalating. That same day was the day all of your men came back to the Haven, battered and bruised. Your ego felt the same as you sent them upstairs to get treated.

After a week or so of fighting the conflict grew dormant, both parties avoiding the building and instead staking out the area. You were growing tired of the drama.

You were in a small shop in the Undercity, arms crossed as you surveyed the shelves. The middle-aged woman behind the counter was painting her nails, barely looking at you as you walked around the cramped shop.

“Sale on today,” she grumbled. “Half off on…”

She looked up at you, and blanched.

The tub of polish almost got knocked over as she scrambled to stand up. “[n-name]?” She gasped, scrambling to fix her hair. “Gosh, it’s been so long.”

“Hilda,” you said flatly in greeting. “Has it?” Your eyes didn’t move from the shelves as you surveyed the many random products that were on display. “Time does fly by.”

“You know, we’d love to have you back here. Things get lonely.”

You turned to look at her languidly, the gold in your ears and around your neck glinting. Your gilded coat shimmered in the dim light. “Do I look like I need a job to you?”

She fumbled with the tub of nail polish, turning red. “No. No! Definitely not. Just, uh, we expected you to drop by more often.”

“You sacked me after my daughter died.”

“You didn’t show up for a week. Things were tight.”

“I told you about it, and requested a leave. You refused, and fired me.” You picked up a small glass cup, holding it up to the light to inspect it. “If you think I’d drop by after that you’re sorely mistaken.”

“My bad,” she grinned nervously, watching your coat swish as you drifted around the shop, eyes flitting over every little trinket.

“You still keep stationary?”

“We do!” She said quickly, and scuttled into the back to retrieve what you requested from her:

“I want a box of crayons. a box of blank books, and a box of inkwells. Hurry up.”

You sighed, turning as she left, when you heard the doorbell jingle. A little girl walked in, her eyes wide as she looked around in wonder.

You stared at her, watching her blue head disappear behind one of the shelves. You whirled back to the counter, impatiently tapping your foot as Hilda tumbled out of the back room, breathless. She dumped a stack of books onto the counter, two other boxes stacked on top of it. They clinked and rattled and you watched as she steadied them with ironically shaky hands.

“That’s all you have?” You sounded unimpressed.

“It’s an entire boxes worth, [name].” 

You stepped forward, fingering the edge of a page of one of the books with a metal-tipped finger. “It’s ma’am to you.” You fell silent, and after a while: “You have quite small boxes.”

At your displeased tone she laughed nervously. “That’s all you can expect from a humble shop in the undercity like us,” she explained apologetically. You lifted your eyes to meet her.

Hilda looked at something behind you, and you turned around. The girl was standing there, shuffling her feet. You tilted your head, then stepped to the side, gesturing for her to step forward. She looked at you, then moved towards the counter.

“I want colours.” Her voice was small. Hilda smiled at her tightly.

“Well, what colours specifically? We have crayons, colouring pencils, paints. What shades do you want?”

The girl thought for a moment. “Crayons. I want bright colours.”

“Crayons. Bright colours,” Hilda repeated, then quickly shot one last nervous glance at you before disappearing into the back. You looked at the girl, and suddenly the vague familiarity clicked.

Felicia?

She was Felicia’s daughter. No- Vander’s daughter. You stared at her incredulously. She didn’t seem to notice, fidgeting on the spot while staring at the ground. Powder. Your blood was pounding in your ears.

Donna hold told you both girls had been either lost or dead to the explosion. But here Powder was, shuffling her feet and looking around as if someone would jump at her from the shadows at any moment.

You took a deep breath.

“Do you like colouring?” You asked kindly. She looked up at you quickly.

“Yeah,” she muttered. You leaned against the counter and gave her an easy grin.

“Well, what are your favourite colours?” 

“Blue.” She thought for a moment. “Wait, no- pink. I… I can’t decide.”

You laughed, a motherly sound which made Powder relax. “It’s okay. You can say both. I can’t decide either.” You grinned at her. “What’s your name?”

“Jinx,” she said quietly, as if she was saying the word for the first time. Testing out the name on her tongue. You tilted your head. “What’s yours, miss?”

You chuckled. “I’m [name]. You know, Jinx, I used to know your parents.”

She flinched, and you wondered if you’d said something wrong. “M-my parents?”

“Felicia, Connol, Vander.” You sighed, as if you were reminiscing about the past. “We were all such good friends.”

“V-Vander’s dead,” she whispered, and her eyes darted around unseeingly. You put your hand on her head, and she snapped out of it, looking at you with teary eyes.

“It’s okay,” you cooed. “We don’t have to talk about it. Who’s taking care of you now?”

“Silco,” she whispered. You snatched your hand away as if you’d been burned.

He kills her adoptive father and takes her in? You suppressed a scowl. The bastard.

“I guess he’s meant to be like my new dad,” she mumbled. “Were you friends with him too?”

Her timid voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, he was my best friend.” You ruffled her hair and a small smile appeared on her face. “I’ve got loads of stories about him. Wanna hear?”

She giggled. “Yea-“

“I’m back! Sorry it took so long.” The counter rattled as Hilda tossed a small pack of crayons onto the surface. You turned and looked at her, expression darkening.

“The shelves need dusting,” you suggested calmly.

“Yes ma’am,” she said immediately, running off to grab the feather duster. You turned back to Jinx and grinned. 

“So. Stories. Wanna hear?”

Jinx nodded eagerly. 

“Well, once he tried to rescue a cat from a roof. God knows who he was trying to impress,” you chuckled. “Honestly, he was so dead set on it.”

“That doesn’t sound like him.”

“He was different, back then.” You fought to keep your voice friendly, but it still came out slightly sad. “Anyways, it scratched him up bad. He whined so much when I tried to clean up his cuts. It was hilarious. Kept shrieking that it hurt.”

Jinx giggled at the thought. “That’s funny.” You smiled at her beaming face, eyes softening. 

Hilda was back, fiddling with her fingers. Jinx fumbled with a little pouch around her waist to pay for her crayons. Coins clinked in the little bag.

You dumped a purse onto the counter. “I’ll pay.” You smiled at the little girl benevolently. Her eyes lit up.

“O-okay!”

She picked up the pack from the counter and held it to your chest. You winked.

“Tell your new daddy I said hi.”

-

“Janna, you’re an idiot.”

You pressed the cotton pad against the angry red cut, watching Silco hiss beneath you. You snickered at his expression, and he exhaled sharply.

“You’re getting a real kick out of this, aren’t you,” he muttered. 

“I won’t lie,” you said, smirking. You reached for a cut on his face, and he jerked away from you, throwing up his arms- which were littered with scratches- to defend himself.

“No!” He almost yelled, and you rolled your eyes, sprinkling a few more drops of the wound disinfectant onto the cotton pad. “It hurts.” He watched with fearful eyes as you raised your hands back to his face.

“You sound like a baby. Do you want to get infected? Janna knows where that cat’s claws have been.”

He pursed his lips as you leaned over in the booth, swiping gently at his no-longer bleeding cuts, targeting a specifically large one on the bridge of his nose. He winced, and grabbed your thigh. You froze, looking down.

He snatched his hand away. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, dazed. “No, no it’s… it’s fine. I don’t mind.” You licked your lips nervously, eager to change your tone. “Are you seriously that childish? You need something to grab onto?” You chuckled, moving onto the next cut. “You want me to go get your teddy bear too?”

He grabbed your wrist, squeezing tight, eyes tracing your movements. You rolled your eyes, relenting.

“Okay, fine. I’ll just clean them with water instead.”

“It stings,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“I know.”

“It wouldn’t sting with water?”

You threw your head back and laughed.

“It would.”

“How reassuring,” he spat, as you got up to get a cup of water.

Returning with the cup you placed it on the table, the liquid inside sloshing around. You took out a new cotton pad, and dipped it inside, before squeezing it over the cup. Cold droplets rolled down your fingertips as you reached for his face.

Silco, on the other hand, looked rather put out. You placatingly smoothed your thumb over his cheek. 

“Come on, Silky. Just a few more.”

He crossed his arms. “This is ridiculous.”

You dabbed at the shallow yet bleeding cut on his face.

“Will they scar?” He muttered, averting his eyes. You chuckled.

“No, as long as you don’t pick at them.” You yelped as your knee slipped off of the edge of the seat, and he grabbed you by the waist, dragging you into his lap. You looked at him, mortified.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s an awkward position if we don’t sit like this,” he said briskly, jerking his chin at you. “Now… hurry up.”

You set to work, dabbing at the last of the scratches. “You’re really an idiot, you know that? All that for a feral cat.” You reached for a box of plasters on the table. “You just had to be the hero.”

His hands slipped from your waist to your hips, then your thighs, settling there comfortably. His thumb drew circles into your skin, and you tried to ignore the soft caress as you placed the plaster over his nose.

“Well, now I’ll go down in history as one for sure,” he said steadily, eyes locked your face. “I have the battle scars and everything.” You stifled a giggle.

“The only thing you’ll go down as is an idiot.”

He hummed, tipping his head back. Your eyes settled on the column of his throat. “I beg to differ.”

“And you won’t scar.”

“Right.” He clicked his tongue, and you pressed your forehead on his shoulder, muttering:

“Idiot.”

 -

The door to the shop burst open.

You and Jinx both looked at the entrance to see Sevika standing in the doorway, her usual scowl on her face as she jerked her head at Jinx, seemingly not noticing you. “Come on,” she snapped. Jinx gripped the pack of crayons tightly as she gave you a small smile, hurrying to Sevika.

You put your hands on your hips, smirking. “Sevika. I didn’t know you were a babysitter alongside an errand-girl.”

Sevika flinched at your voice, looking up in a fleeting moment of shock. “[name].” 

For a moment you both just stared at each other, and her eyes scoured your face. You knew what she was thinking.

What did you tell her? What did she tell you?

She cleared her throat. “Let’s go,” she grunted, tugging Jinx along by the arm.

You gave her a beguiling smile, eyes flicking to Jinx. You gave the girl a tinkly wave.

“See you!” You sang as the door slammed shut. But not before you noticed the uneasy look on Sevika’s face. You hummed, pulling out a cigarette.

Now that you know he was raising a kid, things just got a lot more interesting.

Allison had begun to have night terrors.

You didn’t know how they’d started or why, but most nights you would awaken with her relentlessly knocking on your bedroom door. You’d force yourself to get up and let her in, allowing her to curl up next to you on your bed, as long as she wasn’t too close to you or touching you.

You didn’t want to get too close to the girl.

Listening to her soft breathing, sleep forgotten, gave you time to contemplate. You watched the girl turn over, mumbling something under her breath, and you yourself turned over to face the wall. Something had been nagging at the back of your mind for a while now:

Why do you favour this kid?

Your eyes squeezed shut. The answer was obvious, of course, not that you felt any less guilty admitting it. She reminds you of Alice. That’s the only reason you give a damn about this kid. Your hand clenched into a fist, clutching the bedsheets. ‘Don’t want to get too close.’ Pssh, oh please. It’s already too late. 

You can’t replace Alice. You can’t fill the void in your heart with another girl and try and make her be like Alice. She doesn’t deserve that.

“But I don’t…” you mumbled, trailing off. Alice stirred.

“Madam?” She asked sleepily. “Did you say something?”

“No, sweethea- Allison, go back to sleep.” You buried your face in your pillow and tried to ignore the warmth radiating from the girl next to you.

You completed the thought in your head. But I don’t expect her to be another Alice. I know she’s her own person. You sneaked a glance at her already sleeping form.

But you were scared.

What if something happened again?

What if she died?

You sighed. Now was not the time to be worrying about all of this. Now was the time to go to sleep. 

-

“More conflict has risen at the factory,” Donna recited, a clipboard in her hands as she read out the report to you. “Silco’s men don’t plan on backing down. What should we do?”

You frowned, absentmindedly inhaling from your cigarette. Smoke curled around you. “We can’t back down either. Change tactics, send in more men. I don’t care what happens.” 

“[name]…” she said quietly. You looked up, frown deepening. 

“What?”

Donna sighed, and walked towards you, setting the clipboard down on the table. “There’s a chance enforcers might get involved.”

You stiffened. “What?” You repeated.

She shifted uncomfortable, avoiding your gaze. She knew enforcers were a touchy subject for you. “Our team saw a bunch of enforcers around the area. Looked like they were staking it out.” But then she shrugged. “But like… they left after a while. Crawled back to their utopia.”

You inhaled from the cigarette deeply, leg shaking. Your silence was suffocating.

She ploughed on. “We’re assuming what’s happening at the factory is catching their attention. Although-“ she frowned. “It’s strange that they’re so interested in one factory, out of all the conflicts in Zaun.” She looked at you expectantly, as if you must have had an idea.

More silence.

She cleared her throat. “Well, I, uh… I suspect it’s maybe because they just cleared it out?” She nodded to herself, because you didn’t.

Eventually, you said:

Nothing.

Donna shuffled her feet. “O-okay, well, I’ll tell them to avoid conflict with the enforcers.” She spun around to escape the insanely uncomfortable situation. “Bye.”

You didn’t stop her as she left.

-

“Remind me again why I agreed to accompany you on this… errand?” Silco grumbled, as you were both shoved and jostled by the busy street. The box in your hand rattled as you nudged aside a strangely short person with your foot. 

“How am I supposed to know?” You replied, miffed. “It was your choice.”

“I suspect you must have bewitched me.”

“Am I that alluring?” 

“Temptress,” he spat. You threw your head back and laughed.

Suddenly, he grabbed your shoulder and wrenched you back. Narrowly missing the sizzling oil that was thrust in front of you, you yelped, stumbling and tripping over to fall backwards, right into his chest. He grabbed you and steadied you as you looked at him breathlessly.

The street vendor that had thrown the oil was crossing his burly arms over his chest, as shouts rose from the crowd. A woman stepped forward, her rough voice rising over the rest.

“Hey, you almost fucking got that on my kid!”

The mob grew agitated, tempers rising. Someone shoved someone else, and you could sense a fight breaking out.

You looked around helplessly. There was barely any way out. It felt suffocating. You squeezed the box tighter.

Suddenly Silco grabbed you by the waist, both your wrists being occupied by the box, and shot you a look before dragging you away through a gap in the crowd. He hugged you close to his chest so you wouldn’t get seperated, and before long you both disappeared down an alley, away from the tension.

Breaking away from the crowd you looked at him, face flushed with heat.

And the fight erupted right behind you.

Something metal and heavy flew over your head. He grabbed your wrist and you dropped the box, letting out a panicked scream, before he roughly tugged you along with him, both of you racing down the narrow street. You promptly ran into a metal pole, and groaned, rubbing your nose before he grabbed you again, sharply dragging away your rather pained self. 

You both emerged in a slightly wider street. He grabbed your shoulders and smoothed his hands down your arms. You wiped at your bleeding nose. “Are you okay?” His voice was filled with concern.

“Yeah,” you hissed, gritting your teeth. He pulled a kerchief from his pocket and held it underneath your nose, watching the white fabric soak up the red blood. “M’sorry,” you muttered, a bit of blood dripping into your mouth. You could taste the metallic tang of copper on your tongue. “I ruined your handkerchief.”

“It’s fine,” he said reassuringly. You gave him a mirthless smile, turning away and wiping at more of the blood. His hands were still on the bend of your arms, and you looked at him strangely. His eyes searched your face. After finally deciding you were really okay, he dropped them and they fell away to his sides. “The thing that makes up for it is, that scream you let out was hilarious.”

Your face and ears heated up. “Oh, fuck off.” He laughed.

You both looked around, and a sharp twist of dread in your gut suddenly took hold of you. The place you were in was completely unfamiliar. You didn’t even recognise the brick of the walls, let alone the steel mesh stands and rickety rusted ladders. The small clearing suddenly felt even smaller.

“So… where exactly are we?”

Silence.

Being lost in the undercity was no joke. You walked to the wall on the other edge of the little concrete plateau, placing a hand on the painted brick. The wall was covered in a painted mural. You tilted your head, shielding your eyes from the sun to look up at it properly. 

Silco went up to stand behind you, studying the mural alongside you. It was of a woman, colourful swirls of paint creating her visage, gazing out over the rooftops. It was actually quite beautiful. 

You were both walled in. There were two tiny streets: one from where you entered, and one even tinier one leading out.

You sighed. “Fuck, I dropped Hilda’s order. She’s gonna be so mad at me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Silco said firmly. “At least you’re safe.”

You crossed your arms and looked away. He pointed at the tiny street leading out. “Let’s go.”

You leaned to the side, craning your neck to peer in. “It… it looks kind of dark though. I don’t wanna go in.”

“Don’t be a pussy,” he said flatly. You shoved him. 

“Language!” You admonished him. He scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“What better idea do you have? Scale the wall?”

“We could try that,” you said slowly, turning around to gaze back up at the wall.

“You can barely climb a tree.”

“I can get onto a rooftop faster than you can.”

“Ladders and window ledges,” he replied smoothly. “You’d be dead without either of them.” He went over to the wall and grazed his hand over it. “And this wall is too flat to climb. We need to go through the alley.”

You swallowed, throat dry. “Fine. We better not get mugged.”

You squeezed into the dim alleyway, feeling Silco right behind you. Unease crawled up your throat to settle on your tongue. You stopped abruptly.

“I want to walk at the back,” you hissed, hands brace on either brick wall on your sides as you stared into the dingy darkness, breathing speeding up. You heard Silco hiss exasperatedly behind you, his breath on your neck.

“Janna, [name], you couldn’t have said that five minutes ago?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked, and he exhaled sharply. You shuffled to turn and face him, grabbing his jacket. He took one look at your face, and his expression softened ever-so slightly.

“Fine,” he hissed, shoving you straight against the wall. You yelped, pressing the back of your head against the bricks as he went to sidle past you, hands gripping your arms, pinning you. “Just know that if you were anyone else I’d make you get over it.”

You cracked a grateful smile, and he looked down at you. His eye twitched subtly, as it always did when he was irritated, and your smile was immediately wiped off of your face.

He lost footing and you yelped again, being pushed farther up the wall as he fell into you, chest pressing flush against yours. Your face heated up as a strand of his hair tickled your nose. He cursed under this breath. “Wh-what happened?”

“Nothing, my foot got stuck on something,” he muttered. His breath was searingly hot on your cheek. You turned your face away, and felt it on your neck instead. You squirmed, and he gripped you harder, squeezing your arms so intensely you thought he’d snap them off. You gasped at the pain.

“That hurts-“ you tried to wriggle out of his grip but he grabbed and shoved you back against the wall again, avoiding your gaze. Heat involuntarily pooled in your stomach. You stopped moving, caught by surprise by your own body. breathing heavily. 

“Don’t move.”

You looked at him and pressed your lips together. Your blood was on fire. You needed out of that position, now. “You okay?”

“Just-“ his voice was shaking. “Don’t move.”

He seemed to have fixed the issue with his foot because then he pushed past you, letting go of your arms. You stared at his back, and grabbed onto his jacket, pressing close to him. He tensed beneath you, then relaxed, melting into the contact. Your eyes darted around in the darkness as you both advanced.

“We’re almost out,” he said reassuringly. You just squeezed his jacket harder.

You both finally emerged into daylight. He looked at your face, which had paled considerably, and tugged on his messed-up hair to re-tie it. You pulled your arms around yourself, and was caught by surprise when he gathered you in an embrace.

You found your shivers subsiding in his warmth. “I’m fine,” you muttered. “It was just- it was tight, and it was dark. Made me anxious.”

“You’re fine,” he replied, mirroring your own words. You remembered your reaction to being pressed against him in the alleyway and immediately pulled yourself out of his grip. Him, on the other hand, seemed to be having the same reaction, snatching his hands away from you.

He turned away quickly, squinting in the sunlight. “I recognise this place.” He turned to you and flicked his head over his shoulder. “…Come on.”

You didn’t say anything- just jammed your hands in your pockets and stumbled after him.

The walk back to Hilda’s shop was an a strangely awkward one.

-

By the fifth time your employees had returned you were beginning to grow extremely frustrated. Not to mention the fateful day Donna had arrived at your office:

“The enforcers are issuing us a warning.”

“Did they issue Silco’s people a warning?”

Donna shrugged. “No idea.”

You’d learned from Sevika- after a lot of threatening Donna’s life- that they had in fact not.

So, you did what anyone would decide to do. You decided to pay a visit to your future property.

Nodding at the group of armed people you’d brought along with you to stay put, you entered the building. The sky was dark and the air was cold, silence weighing down on you heavily. You turned up the collar of your coat. The door was left wide open.

You figured no conflicts would arise inside the building, considering the fact that neither party wanted the place damaged. You clicked on a flashlight, waving it about, eyes scouring the shadows. The place was practically bare, a simple lift at the end of the giant room, a couple of doors and a stairwell.

Footsteps.

You turned off the light, flooding the place in darkness. 

The footsteps were disgustingly distinct- the signature thump of the boots those dratted enforcers wore. You stepped back, pressing yourself into the corner as he appeared at the foot of the stairs, waving about his own flashlight. You ducked behind a concrete bar, hoping he wouldn’t see you.

You saw the beam of light advancing. 

Then, something else. Something orange glowing in the darkness. 

An eye.

You pressed your hand over your mouth, stifling a gasp as you watched Silco and the enforcer, who you now recognised as Piltover’s Sheriff, go towards the open door. Before Silco left, they shook hands.

You knew a deal when you saw one.

The Sheriff turned as he was left alone, the flashlight sweeping across the floor. It landed on you.

He screamed.

You screamed.

Lunging at him with terrifying speed, you knocked the flashlight from his hands, forcing him to the floor. He grabbed you and you tumbled down with him, digging your elbow into his chest. He groaned, reaching for his gun, but you were too quick- you grabbed the flashlight and cracked it over his head, which snapped back as he groaned again.

You wrenched the gun from the holster and pressed it against the side of his head. “Don’t fucking move,” you warned gleefully.

Blood dripped down his chin. He cursed softly as you tilted the gun, dragging it down his cheekbone. You gave him a catlike grin and shone the flashlight directly into his eyes. He squeezed them shut, cursing again.

“Hello, Sheriff,” you said smoothly. “Care to explain what I just saw?”

He didn’t say anything, most likely still dazed from the hits he’d taken from you. You tapped the barrel of the gun on the side of his head impatiently. “It all makes sense now.”

“…What?” He muttered. You threw your head back and laughed.

“Why you enforcers are so interested in this place.” You smirked at him, watching him squirm beneath you. “Why you’re crawling up my ass, while you barely spare Silco a second glance.” The gun clicked. “You have a deal with him, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Sheriff said through gritted, bloodied teeth. You sighed heavily, pressing down on where you assumed his voice box would be.

“What’s your name?”

He let out a strange gurgling sound.

“Well, alright, ‘augh,‘“ you snorted. “Don’t bother fucking with me. I know he’s getting you to try to wipe me out and repel me from the factory so he can lay claim to it himself.”

‘Augh’ did not reply, too busy being tormented by the light of your flashlight. His eyes had grown bloodshot as you repeatedly flashed it in his face, then away, in- then away. A salty tear trickled down the side of his face. You removed your hand from his throat, and he spluttered.

“Marcus,” he gasped.

You cocked your head to the side. “What?”

“My name’s Marcus. Please, just- don’t tell anyone about the deal. I swear I’ll do anything.” His voice was broken and shaking. Scared.

You pouted, pressing the gun back to his head. “Why not? I could just blow your brains out on the floor right now. And then you won’t be able to tell anyone about it either,” you sniggered.

“Look, I’ll- I’ll call off the enforcers. They won’t bother you. You can fight Silco in peace.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” you grinned, pulling the gun away. You lazily tipped it to the ceiling, pulling on the trigger.

The bang was deafening. It was still ringing in your ears as you pulled yourself off of Marcus, kicking him away from you. He scrambled up, dragging himself away as he fled.

It was still ringing when your people ran inside in a frenzy to watch you standing above a few splotches of blood and a flickering flashlight, blowing on the steaming barrel. 

Who the hell does he think he is? Your eyes darted around the darkness. Already fucking holding secret meetings in here like he owns the place. 

But no matter what, your mind was whirring, sifting through the next steps. He’ll figure out you know. You pocketed the gun. That’ll make you a proper target now. 

But another thought: how could you hold this over his head?

You could tip off the Pilties, and cause a whole load of problems for him and Marcus. You could tell the Lanes. Tell them how he was working with their worst enemy. However, the second option seemed less inviting, knowing he was most likely working with Marcus in a way that benefitted Zaun, and not the other way around.

In other words, Marcus was working for him. 

You left the factory, your guards behind you. You adjusted your coat and dusted off your shoulder. 

You could figure out what to do later. Until then, you desperately needed a bath.

You left the factory with more knowledge than you had entered. Knowledge that you could weaponise.

You were slowly gaining the upper hand.

When you entered the office Allison was sitting quietly on the sofa, fiddling with a trinket you’d brought back for her at Hilda’s shop. You dumped your coat on the armrest and she looked up at you, her big glassy eyes following you as you slumped down on the more extravagant sofa opposite and lit a cigarette.

“Where were you?” The little toy in her hand clicked, and she twisted it. You looked up, your lit cigarette hanging from your mouth. 

“By the factory,” you said casually through gritted teeth, so the cigarette wouldn’t fall out. You plucked it from between your teeth and exhaled, smoke coiling in the air. Allison put the toy down.

“What’s happening at the factory?”

“Fighting,” you shrugged. She leaned forward and tilted her head, ever the curious girl.

“With who?” You frowned at her relentless questioning.

It wasn’t an uncommon practice for her to ask questions about anything or everything. The constant having to reply to the next “Who? What? Where? When? Why?” irked you to no end, but you knew it was better to indulge in her inquisitive nature than to shut her down for no reason. 

Your eye twitched. “Silco.”

“Is he the bad guy that broke all the promises?” 

“Yes.”

Allison tapped the side of her cheek, thinking. “Is the fighting cool?”

“It’s fighting,” you remarked, waving your cigarette in the air. A trail of smoke went after it. “It’s not cool, or uncool. It’s just fighting.”

“What kind?”

You groaned, throwing your head back over the armrest. You opened your eyes. Everything was upside down. “Mostly ranged, I guess. Not a lot of melee.” You took a drag of your cigarette, blowing it out in a steady stream. 

“What’s ranged and melee?”

“Ranged is fighting for a distance, like guns and bombs. Melee is fighting close up, like with your fists, or knives, or swords.”

“Melee sounds cooler.”

“It’s fighting.” You shrugged, an uncomfortable feat considering the fact you were hanging off the edge of your couch. 

“Are the bombs dangerous?”

“Very,” you replied darkly. Her little toy clicked again. 

“I wanna see!”

“You can’t.” You slid up back to a normal sitting position, propping yourself up on your elbow. 

“You really can’t take me to all the fighting?”

“No!” You snapped. It came out harsher than it had meant to be. You took a deep breath, trying to relax. “You’re not going anywhere close, got it?”

“But Elliot gets to see!” She complained, reffering to one of the older kids in the Haven.

“All Elliot does is bring them supplies from time to time. He’s older than you and doesn’t get anywhere close to the conflict.” You aggressively stabbed your cigarette on the ashtray, and Allison flinched. And I don’t care for him as much. He doesn’t look like my dead daughter.

She drew her knees up to her chest, pouting. “No fair.”

“Keep this up, Allison, and I’ll lock you in this office.”

She pressed her lips together, not saying anything more. You scoffed to yourself, getting up angrily. A cushion fell to the floor. “I catch you anywhere near the factory, and I’ll chain you to this goddamn couch.”

“Yes, Madam,” she said sullenly. You stormed out of the office, the beads in the doorway rattling as they were forcefully swept against the wall. 

-

It didn’t take long for Sevika to appear on your doorstep.

At first, she didn’t go anywhere near your office. You sat on your couch, smoking a cigarette and reading reports on a recent shipment of weapons. Your eyes flicked up, watching her faint silhouette move through the beaded veil. It wasn’t hard to not hear her yelling for Donna.

You sighed, breathed out some smoke, and flipped a page.

After a few minutes, you could hear her heavy footsteps rattle the walls as she charged to your office. She swept the curtain aside, barging in without so much as a greeting.

“We know you know,” she spat. You raised your eyebrows, not taking your hand off of the papers.

“Know what?” You asked, feigning innocence. You licked your thumb and flicked a page, eyes skimming over the numbers. Sevika clenched and unclenched her fists. 

“The deal with the Sheriff, she hissed, slowly advancing towards you. You still paid her no heed, eyes fixated on your clipboard.

She leaned down and wrenched it from your fingers.

You scowled dangerously, cold eyes finally flicking up to meet her wild ones. She took a step back at the expression on your face.

You took a drag on your cigarette, leaning calmly on the armrest. “What about it?” She let out an involuntary hiss, pacing the room, like she’d done so many times before. 

“I swear to god, if you tell anyone…”

“I’ll think about it,” you smirked, amused by the look on her face. But suddenly her expression changed.

Your heart wrenched.

“Please. [name].” Her voice was pleading- about as pleading as it would get for a woman like her. “Don’t put yourself in harm's way. Just agree to keeping Silco’s secret, for your sake.” She waved to the curtain. “For everyone in this place’s sake.”

You swallowed, throat dry. She continued pacing.

“He may be my boss, but I knew you both,” she said briskly. “Back when things weren’t so shit.” She dragged a hand across her face. “I'm concerned for you, [name]. You’ve never taken things well.” Her voice was awkward. Being vulnerable wasn't usual for her. 

“We aren’t friends,” you said stiffly. She shook her head.

“But we’re something. Look, he’s doing this for Zaun.”

“He’s always been obsessed with that dream,” you muttered. “He can’t see anything else other than it.” Your voice was bitter.

“Maybe,” Sevika said quietly. “But he sees Jinx.” At your surprised expression, she scoffed. “What? It wasn’t a secret that you knew about her.”

You put out the cigarette. Your face was unreadable. 

All these years, and he can take in a kid but couldn’t come back to me? It was laughable how pathetic it was. 

“Call off your men,” you replied calmly. She looked away guiltily.

“You and I both know he won’t do that.”

You stood up suddenly, furious. “So you expect me to just eat dirt to keep the peace?” You snarled. Your hands twitched with the urge to throw something as you stalked toward her, jabbing a finger in her chest. “I’ll take that factory with my own bare hands if I have to.”

She looked at you, eyes fluttering shut. Her expression made your gut churn. Your hand fell away from her chest.

“But I won’t tell anyone about the Sheriff.”

Her eyes shot open wide, looking at you disbelievingly. You spun away, unable to meet her grateful gaze. You waved your hand at her. “Just- get him to call off the enforcers. No playing dirty.”

She laughed, too relieved to be angry about anything. “Whatever you say.” She paused. “Is there any way to convince him you’re telling the truth?”

“Tell him I promised,” you said solemnly. 

She scoffed. “Is that it?”

“Tell him I crossed my heart and hoped to die.” 

You inspected your nails as she crossed her arms. “Right.” You looked up. 

“He knows I never break my promises.”

You crashed into a crate of drinks, glass bottles rolling across the ground as you lunged over them. An enforcer hot on your heels, you ducked into an alley, hoping to shake his trail.

You skidded to a halt, eyes darting around wildly. A dead end. You whirled around at the heavy clunk of boots behind you.

Your heart was beating heavily, almost painful against your ribs as you backed up, back hitting the dank wall. The enforcer grabbed your shoulder, tugging you forward, and you twisted away, gritting your teeth.

“Fuck, you stupid bitch,” he growled, and his hand was around your neck this time, slamming you back against the bricks. Your fingers weakly clawed at his wrist, which didn’t budge.

“Get off of me,” you choked. He shook you a little.

“Damn, maybe if you weren’t so fucking rude. All I did was ask to go get a drink.”

“You’re insane if you think I’d politely decline a drink from a bluebelly,” you scowled, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. He pushed you higher against the wall, squeezing the sides of your neck, and you began to feel lightheaded.

“I should just fucking kill you right now. No one’s gonna miss one trencher bitch, right?” You fought to keep your eyes from fluttering shut, your lack of oxygen constricting your lungs. The enforcer laughed.

“And that’s where you’re sorely mistaken.”

The iron grip on your throat fell away and you heard a heavy thud on the ground. Refocusing your eyes, you blinked hazily in the direction of the new voice to see Silco standing over the heap of an enforcer, holding a broken glass bottle. You recognised it as one of the ones you’d sent tumbling to the ground.

You were already sinking down to the ground when he went over to you, grabbing you and hauling you up. “Come on,” he hissed. The look on his face was furious, but his hands were gentle. “Before he wakes up.”

“I didn’t wanna drink,” you rasped. He hummed patiently, leaning you on his shoulder. “Sil, my neck hurts.”

Once you were out of the alley he turned you towards him, tipping your chin up so he could inspect your neck. “I know, darling. You’re okay.”

“Okay,” you muttered. He chuckled lightly, brows furrowing as he traced your neck. A purple bruise was blooming on the base of your throat. You winced as his fingertips brushed over it. “How’d you find me?”

“It’s not hard to notice a young woman being quite loudly chased by an enforcer.” He let you clutch his arm as you both walked away, down the street. You shivered.

“Well, you shouldn’t have come after me.” You looked over your shoulder, paranoid. “You could get in serious trouble for that, Silco.”

“What happened to the nickname?” He teased. “I quite liked it.” 

You suddenly pulled yourself out of his grip and crossed your arms. “No. We aren’t joking around right now. I’m dead serious, Silco,” you snapped. You spread your hands, exasperated. “You just hit an enforcer over the head with a bottle! And knocked him out!”

“And knocked him out,” he repeated proudly. You scowled.

“Are you even fucking listening right now?” You snapped.

His expression suddenly darkened, and he took a deliberate step towards you. You shuffled back quickly. “I did do that,” he said coldly. “I did it for you, [name].”

“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” you muttered. He threw his hands in the air, exasperated. 

“We have! Which is precisely the reason you’re pissing me off even more right now. Would you rather I leave you to get assaulted in the alleyway?”

“I could have held my ground,” you said unsteadily. He rolled his eyes.

“Held your ground and fucking died. Or worse.”

You crossed your arms again and looked away, taking a deep, shaky breath. He stepped closer to you again, and tenderly hooked a finger to your chin, tilting it up. His eyes landed on the bruise on your neck.

“I’d do that over and over again without hesitation,” he finally said, voice firm. You still avoided his gaze. “Hey, look at me.”

You reluctantly complied, tilting your head towards him ever so slightly.

“I would take every enforcer in Piltover if it meant protecting your safety. And I don’t intend to hear you give out to me about it again. I’ve had enough of that.”

You cast your eyes to the ground, and linked your arm through his. “Thanks, Sil.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” You could hear the insufferable grin in his voice as he said it. You rolled your eyes, a warm feeling seeping through you in the silence. You turned and stared at him.

Something settled deep into your chest. Your eyes traced the curve of his profile, suddenly realizing just how much he meant to you. You leaned into his touch. He looked at you, marvelling at the suddenly tender look on his face.

“Thank you,” you repeated. He laughed.

“You already said that, dear.” You pulled away and looked him deep in the eyes.

“No,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

He didn’t break your gaze, until his eyes flickered down your face, as if he was memorising it. He reached out, his knuckle grazing your cheek.

“Thank you too,” he murmured.

-

The wind whipped your hair across your face, blowing your coat as you raised the telescope to your eyes, twisting the device, zooming in on the factory below you. Donna shivered beside you.

“Did I have to come?” She stammered, teeth chattering. You let out a sharp exhale, ignoring her as the lens of the telescope swept across the derelict building. It was deserted- no sign of Silco’s men anywhere. Nor were there any enforcers. You’d ordered your own people to fall back, and steer clear of the area following the whole ‘don’t blackmail us’ incident. 

“I mean,” she continued, “Why are we even doing this?”

“So we know what tactics they’re playing,” you muttered. Donna sniffled. 

“It’s just a bunch of catfights here and there to warn each other off.”

Something caught your eye. You slowly lowered the telescope from your eye. “Until it isn’t.” You handed the long device to Donna. “Look.”

She squinted through the lens. “Is that a camp?”

“They’re setting up bases to slowly take it over. We need to retaliate.” You snatched the telescope back from her. “They’re starting with the roof, instead of the ground. They have an advantage of height, but it’ll get harder to get there.”

The shockingly tall building you were both standing on was even taller than the factory, but not by much. The metal mesh gate obscured your view of the camp setup. You could see a faint light crackling, and three shadowed silhouettes moved about in the makeshift area.

“What do we do?”

“We start monopolising the ground.” You pointed a sharply manicured finger at the ground surrounding the factory property, to the doors. “They’re stupid as hell for going for the top.”

“What if they’ve got the ground floors too? And we just can’t see it?”

“It’s not something Silco would do,” you muttered, snapping the telescope shut. Donna crossed her arms indignantly, wrapping her furs around her tighter. 

“What? Setting up on the ground floors?”

“No. Setting up on the top ones first.” You scowled, turning away.

“They could have the bottom too,” Donna repeated her previous point, but you were already pressing the buttons of the elevator. The wind had picked up considerably. Grumbling, Donna followed you into the lift as the doors slid open, groaning as they did so.

The rickety lift descended. “I should have foreseen this,” you muttered. “We should have gotten there first.”

“Why wouldn’t they set up on the ground?”

“They want the height advantage is the only thing I can think of. It would be harder for us to get stuff in and out, and they can pretty much toss down whatever they want.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Having fights in stairwells won’t be pretty.”

“There’s the factory yard too,” Donna pointed out. You shrugged.

“Again. They’re at a height advantage. They could throw down whatever they wanted and pretty much fucking annihilate us.”

The elevator jolted to a stop, and the rusty doors opened again. You stepped out, looking around the dark, empty lobby of the apartment complex. Donna followed, sticking close behind you.

In the cold night air of Zain’s streets, Donna shivered again. “It’s freezing,” she grumbled, and you scowled, turning on her. 

“You think I give a fuck?” You snapped. “Do you not see this massive issue we have here?”

“So what?” She retorted. “We can send in stealth teams. No biggie.”

“That’s not-“ you paused. “Wait.”

Donna nodded slowly, smirking. “See? I gave you an idea.”

You held up a hand to shut her up, mind racing. “What if we occupy the bottom floor without them ever knowing?” You suddenly started down the street again, more briskly this time. Donna had to shove, dodge and and jostle people to keep up with your quick steps. “That would be…”

“No. They’ll be using the ground floors to go in and out, wouldn’t they?”

You clicked your fingers. “Lock them.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “What? They’d notice.”

“So what? I’ve seen the giant padlock on the doors. You saw how it was locked just now?” You tapped her chest, grinning. “Switch out the padlock for one identical, and they’ll assume the key’s broken.” Donna crossed her arms, frowning.

“They’ll try to just replace it,” she complained. 

“We’ll make it out of something practically indestructible,” you said firmly. She laughed.

“What, like Kevlar?”

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Right, right.” She stumbled a little to match your pace. “So they can’t enter, can’t break the lock. They'll just parkour up. Or use a window.”

“There’s barely any windows in the factory. The ones that there are we can lock.” You shrugged, grinning. “Then, under the veil of night, we advance.”

You’d both reached the Haven.

Donna scoffed. “You’re dramatic, but…” she paused. “It could work.”

You held up your hand and crossed your fingers, without actually turning your body to look at her as you entered through the door. The pink glow of the brothel smothered your silhouette, making her jog to follow you in before the door shut.

Inside it was busier than ever. The lobby was bustling with clients to be taken in. You flashed a group of women waiting in the seating area a coy smile before sticking your head up the stairs, yelling at your employees to hurry up.

Eyes burned into you as you swept aside hanging beads and swathes of fabric, gold and candlelight glittering in your face as you finally made it to your office. The beads tinkled as you entered, taking your shoes off. Your feet sunk into the plush carpet. 

“Madam!” Allison stood up, holding out what looked to be a cube. It had six colours on either side, and was made up of smaller cubes. “Look! I cracked this puzzle.”

You recognised it as another toy you’d make Donna get for her at Hilda’s shop. You picked it up from her hands. “Well done!” You gushed, turning it over. Allison beamed and took it back. You let her, before shrugging your coat off and tossing it over her. It landed on her head, obscuring her face. You snickered, making your way to your bedroom door.

“Tell Donna I want her to make sure the place is running smoothly while I’m asleep,” you told Allison, who was fighting your coat off of her. The girl looked up, her glassy green eyes round as she nodded with fervour. You gave her a tinkly wave as your bedroom door shut.

You stripped off your clothes, unbothered to put on anything. You fell into bed, crawling beneath the sheets. 

It didn’t take long for you to fall into a deep slumber.

-

There was a long, dark hallway. Burgundy walls. At the end, a door. You slowly walked towards it. The black ground rippled beneath your feet as you reached the door, fingertips brushing the doorknob. You looked up. There was a sign on the front.

“Alice’s Room.”

You could hear a little girl’s crying from inside.

Without a second thought you thrust open the door, looking around the room wildly. It looked a lot like the living room of your old apartment. You carefully stepped around the strangely familiar toys strewn across the floorboards. One of them was a small cube, made up of smaller cubes, each side a different colour.

“Hey, Mom.”

You looked up suddenly. There was a woman sitting on the sofa.

“A-Alice?”

She smiled at you. Her features were older, but she still had the mousy, dull brown hair and freckled, pale skin. Her eyes were green flecked with brown. She was taller, a young woman now.

You stepped towards her. “Hello,” you whispered. She looked at you.

“I never died, Mom.”

“What?” You whispered, voice cracking.

“I never died. I grew up.” She opened her arms, inviting you in an embrace.

Without a second thought you collapsed into her arms, shaking. She stroked your back and hair, the very same way you would do to her whenever she had a nightmare, or something triggered her trauma. You could barely feel the hot tears flowing down your face.

She pulled away from you and looked at you up and down. “You lied.”

“What?” You rasped, sniffling. You wiped your eyes with your sleeve.

“You do break your promises.” You rose to your knees and stepped back.

“What are you saying?” You whispered.

Her face was blank, expressionless. “You told me you would protect me. That I would be safe with Vander.”

“Alice, no.” Your voice was barely a whisper.

Her eyes began to widen. Widen and widen, until they were as big as they were when she was a child. But they continued to widen after that, too, until they were half her face. Her voice grew distorted.

“You told Silco that if anything happened to him, you’d kill yourself. If anything happened to me, you’d kill yourself.” You stared at the ground, horrified, as her hands extended beyond what was human and grabbed your shoulders, nails digging into your skin. Her voice was a demonic growl, louder than the sound of your own heartbeat. “Why are you still here?”

“NO!” You screamed, tearing her hands off of you. Something rolled across the floor. You dropped to your knees.

An eye.

Another scream ripped from your throat again, and when you looked up, Alice wasn’t sitting there anymore.

It was Silco.

One eye was missing from its socket, just a black hole in his face. Jagged lines ran from his brown to his mouth. But it wasn’t him from the present- it was him from the past, his hair reaching his shoulder and the good side of his face untouched by age. You scrambled back.

His voice was distorted too. “I thought you’d look for me.”

“I did.” You sobbed, reaching for him. But he stood up, ignoring your outstretched, trembling hand. “I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I should have understood. I shouldn’t have blamed you.”

He stared at you silently with his single eye, which bore into your tearstained face.

And then his body jerked, trembling.

His hand flew to his empty eye socket, pressing against the marred skin, and he doubled over. Blood began to drip from in between the skin of his face and his palm, running down his wrist. The floor flooded with the hot, red liquid. You screamed again, incoherently this time as he fell to the floor, shaking.

You shook him, trying to get him to turn over. “Silco! SIL!” You were sobbing. “Sil, no. I’m sorry. I should’ve looked, instead of waiting. I should’ve- I should have- We can fix this.”

Blood pooled beneath your knees, staining your palms. The heavy clunk of boots filled your ears. Your heart twisted in your chest as you looked up through your hair, breathing ragged as you looked at the enforcer dead in the mask.

“Kill the girl.”

The enforcer removed the mask.

“Kill the girl.”

Vander’s guilty face stared down at you.

“Kill the girl.”

His face began to distort, swirling into something that barely looked human.

“Kill the girl.”

The words filled your ears until they were surrounding you, pressing in on you, blending together in one collective scream. You looked down, expecting to see Silco’s quivering body.

But instead saw Allison’s mangled, bruised corpse, slowly sinking in the rising blood.

-

You awoke absolutely drenched in sweat and shivering. Hands were in your hair, on your shoulders. You turned over to see Donna and Allison hunched over you, eyes wide with concern.

“Are you okay?” Donna whispered. Her and Allison exchanged a look. “Gods, [name], you were screaming.” She reached for your shoulder.

You jerked away from her, scrambling to the other side of the bed. Your eyes shot around the dark room, expecting to see another horror any minute. She recoiled, looking at you as if you were a wild animal that would snap any minute.

In a way, you were.

Cold sweat rolled down your nape. “Get out,” you gasped.

You didn’t have to tell either of them twice.

You stared at the heavy chained padlock, and then the blueprints Donna handed you. Your eyes roamed over the sketch.

“We had them redraw the original lock, every little detail,” she said. “And this is what we got.” She struggled to lift the heavy lock. You waved your hand at her and she dumped it back on the table. You leaned down to inspect it.

“It’s pretty much the same,” you muttered. “They’d never notice.”

“The key system is different,” she added, and handed you a wrought metal key. “This cost us a lot, you know.”

You plucked the key from her hand, holding it up to the light. “It’s fine,” you muttered distractedly. You snapped your eyes back to her, gaze re-focusing. “We need to test the metal.”

“Right, I’ll gather-“

“No, me and you.” You grinned at her as she blanched. “It’ll be a bonding exercise.”

She scoffed at that, not bothering to protest and instead turning to leave the room. The beads tinkled in her wake.

Over the next week or so you’d tested the metal under every possible weapon under the sun. ‘[name], do we really need to run a truck over it?’ Unfortunately, the truck did break it, but you figured it would be a while until they decided to run a truck over the front door- or even figured out how to.

The chainsaw had only cracked it a little. After all was said and done, you  and Donna both looked at each other and nodded. The answer was clear- this would buy you enough time to set up a small space on the bottom floor to rival theirs, if you worked quickly and tirelessly.

“This is a huge stretch,” Donna said nervously. You shrugged, dropping the giant heated knife you were holding. The metal chain of the lock had melted a little where the blade had cut it, but hadn’t been cut through completely.

“So what? Even if they find out, I don’t care.” You tossed the knife onto the ground. It clattered and sizzled. “This is just a throwaway effort to fuck with them a little. We won’t get far.”

Donna hummed, crossing her arms. “It’ll cost a lot.”

“So what? I’m richer than half of Zaun combined.”

She snorted. “Love to see a humble woman these days,” she snarked. You laughed, nudging the hot metal with your foot. 

“I don’t need to lie to be humble. I’m loaded; it’s a fact.”

“Incredibly humble.”

You nudged her forcefully. “Just- piss off. Go send someone to commission more locks. Say we’ll fund the supply of the metal on top of the payment.”

Donna wrinkled her nose. “What even is that stuff?”

You shrugged. “Probably metal on Shimmer. Go on, then.” Donna rolled her eyes and stalked away. You put your hands on your hips and pushed your goggles, which you’d worn for safety purposes, over your head. You looked out over the empty, abandoned scrap yard. You might get someone to clean it out later- it would come in handy. You were surprised it hadn’t been found and the scraps taken to sell already, but you weren’t complaining. 

You turned to leave.

-

The lock was on. It had been on for two days. 

“I can’t believe we got away with this,” Donna said, awe-struck. You took a drag of your cigarette and rolled your eyes.

“We won’t get away with it for long,” you remarked, flipping the page of an old book. The paper had yellowed with age but the words were still readable. You’d nicked it from Hilda’s shop, years ago, and had never found the courage to throw it away.

“Okay, but it’s been two days, we’ve worked around the clock, and there’s already a good set-up in there.”

“Shocking how they haven’t noticed,” you muttered thoughtfully, eyes still fixated on the pages. You looked up at Donna. She was zoned out, eyes glazed over with wonder. You snapped your fingers at her. “Back to reality, please.”

She flinched, eyes flicking back to you. “S-sorry. Just. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“What I wanted was to rile them up, but I didn’t expect it to fucking work.” Your finger ran across the edge of the page. “I haven't planned this far ahead. Do you think they’ve noticed?”

“Maybe if they take the padlock to get inspected,” Donna quipped. You frowned, leaning back on the cushions and taking another drag. Smoke curled from your mouth as you spoke. 

“I don’t know if he’d do that or not, or just have it broken off.”

Donna paused. “All you wanted to do was rile them up?”

You sat up straight again. “Yeah. And-“ you held up a finger. “We can’t afford to be predictable.” Donna blinked at you, confused, so you launched into an explanation. “We need to do anything and everything under the sun. Smart things, stupid things, risky things, play it safe- so they can never know what we’ll do next.”

Donna nodded along, transfixed.

“The play with the employee trade was a safe one, a smart one. I was reasonable and fair.” You stubbed out the cigarette on your ashtray. “Now it’s time to be unreasonable.”

“You give great speeches.”

Your face lit up. “Thank you!”

“I was being sarcastic.”

Your face fell. You went back to the book.

‘Julia’s eyes followed the rooftops, wind swaying in her hair as he leaned his head on hers. That was the moment she realized: one kiss, and this moment would be sealed in time forever.’

It was ridiculously soppy. You shut the book.

“This is a bad move, but it’ll throw them off.”

Donna was silent for a while, until she finally spoke. Her voice was gravely quiet. “I can feel it all coming to a head.”

You tossed the book onto the table and took a drag of your cigarette. The title glinted in the honeyed light.

“So can I.”

-

Apparently Allison had been incessantly whining at Elliot to take her to the secret camp in the factory. You’d found him standing by a shipment of weapons, with her clinging to his arm. He looked greatly uncomfortable as you grabbed Allison and dragged her back.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You snapped. The girl looked up at you before crossing her arms, wordless. You shook her a little.

“Disobeying my direct orders?” You snapped furiously. You grabbed her by the ear and she cried out in protest, feet stumbling over each other as you dragged her back into the Haven. Once you were inside, you released her, shoving her as you did. She staggered back across the carpet.

“Do you have a death wish?” You hissed. Her eyes widened as she guiltily looked at her feet. Your fingers twitched with the familiar urge to throw something across the room. “I forbid you to go anywhere near the conflict. You’re not old enough.”

“He wouldn’t have taken me anyways,” the girl replied defensively. You stiffened, feeling the eyes of workers and patrons on you, the room hushing. You flashed them a quick smile, smoothing down your hair.

“Kids, am I right,” you laughed. You looked back at Allison and the glare settled back on your face, as you leaned in, lowering your voice. “You’re gonna go upstairs, you brat, and you’re not coming down until you realise just how serious it is.”

“That’s not fair!” Alice wailed, but you didn’t have the patience for her petulance,

“Now!” You snapped, and she whirled around, charging up the stairs. You scowled, straightening up and dusting yourself off. You whirled around on your heel and disappeared into your office, slamming the door in your wake.

The brothel resumed its usual hushed bustle. Inside the office, you paced around, trembling fingers lighting up a cigarette. Someone knocked on your door.

“Not now,” you snapped, irritated as you took a deep inhale of your cigarette. The doorknob turned anyways, much to your displeasure. Sevika stepped in.

“Janna, your office reeks of smoke.” She wrinkled her nose and you scowled, resisting the urge to flick the roll-up at her and set the whole place on fire in the process. 

“You smell like alcohol and a shower allergy,” you snapped back. She raised her eyebrows.

“Kitty’s got claws today, I see,” she remarked, stepping into the office and shutting the door. You groaned, stretching as she made herself comfortable on the couch.

“What do you want?” You complained. Sevika raised an eyebrow, cocking her head. It made your blood boil. 

“The lock on the front door of the factory seems to have suddenly stopped working.”

“So?” You asked indignantly, taking another drag of the cigarette and willing your leg to stop shaking.

“So, what do you know about it?”

“You sure the key hasn’t broken?”

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’, and you scowled, stepping forward.

“Well, what do you need it for?”

“Excuse me?”

“What do you need the key for? Since when are you going in and out? Since when have you started locking it?”

“Since we’ve taken it over,” she replied evenly, watching your temper rise with much enjoyment. You leaned over her, cigarette hovering close to her face. You took a slow drag, never breaking eye contact, and slowly blew the smoke in her face. She turned it away, furrowing her brow, but you grabbed her jaw and turned her back to face you forcefully. Her eyes watered from the smoke.

“You haven’t taken over anything,” you murmured. “You can’t even get into your own building.”

“It’s of your interest too,” she muttered as you hovered the cigarette over her neck, the heat warming her skin. 

“Not my problem yet.”

“We’ve tried breaking the lock. It’s barely cracked.” Her eyes settled on you, her silence expectant. You scowled.

“So what? You want me to help you unlock the building?” You laughed, and her scowl grew.

“There’s been reports of activity in the building,” she began slowly. You stared at her, bemused.

“…Okay? Do I look like I give a fuck?”

Sevika suddenly grabbed your wrist and you tensed up, trying to pull away from her. Her grip only tightened, and you hissed at the bone-crushing pressure.

“[name], one day we are going to bust open that lock,” she said darkly, eyes trained on yours. You smirked. “And you and I both know what we’re gonna find in there.”

You shrugged innocently. “No idea what you’re talking about,” you replied smoothly, as her grip loosened on your wrist, her hand slipping away. 

You put out the cigarette on her neck, and she exhaled sharply. You pulled away, admiring the burn mark, then chuckled, spinning around on your heel to flick the cigarette onto the table.

“Donna should be in the lobby,” you smirked. She scowled, dusting herself off as she stood up. 

“That won’t be necessary,” she growled. She turned to spin on her heel, but just as she did, the beaded curtain flew aside and Donna ran in. Sevika dodged her as she hurtled towards you, throwing herself at you.

It took you a few moments to register that Donna was sobbing into your shoulders. You stiffened, confused, before wrapping your arms around her. “…You okay?”

Donna clung to you like a child to its mothers leg. Sevika turned towards you both and frowned. You could feel hot tears on your shoulder. 

“I- the- and the-“ she hiccuped, the words barely registering. You hushed her, smoothing your hands over her back. You looked up at Sevika.

“I think you should go,” you said with finality. Sevika was frozen to the spot. “Let’s drop the subject of our little conversation for good, shall we? For-“ your eyes slid to Donna, “-All our sakes.”

You smirked and lifted a hand to point at Donna’s head with two fingers, mimicking a gun. You pretended to shoot it with a flick of your hand, mouthing: 

‘Pew.’

You could see the conflict simmering behind Sevika’s eyes as she stared at you with ill-concealed horror, before whirling around to leave. You could hear the front door slamming in the wake of her heavy footsteps.

Once the office had grown silent you peeled Donna away from your arms. “What’s wrong?” You asked, concerned. Donna straightened up and wiped her eyes, face falling into an expression of indifference.

She shrugged. “I’m fine. Just sounded like you needed Sevika out of here.”

You grinned.

-

The book thumped onto the table. Silco raised his head, frowning. His hair wasn’t tied back, instead flowing freely around his face, and the dark swipes of eyeliner beneath his eyes had smudged a little.

“Julia and the Wickerlight,” he read the title aloud, and pulled a face at the cheesy cover. “What’s all this, then?”

“It’s a novel,” you said excitedly. “I nicked it from Hilda today.” At the amused look on his face, you straightened up. “I’ll give it back after I finish it. She won’t even notice it’s gone.”

He chuckled. “Right.” He picked it up, turning it over. “Is this a romance? It looks awful.”

You scoffed, slumping into the booth opposite him. “What do you know about novels? I’m sure it’s better than those ledgers you look at all day. When you close your eyes at night, do you dream about numbers?”

“Do you dream about romance?” He challenged you, and you scoffed, burying yourself into the booth and crossing your arms. He laughed at your mortified expression, and with a deft flick of his wrist the thin hardback slid across the rough wood towards you. 

“I don’t read much,” you admitted, picking up the book. “So I’ll take anything I can get. Novels are hard to come by in Zaun.”

“That they are,” he agreed. You looked up at him, and he paused. “Wait. Is this your first time reading a novel?”

“No!” You spluttered, and he burst out laughing at your bad lie. You began to panic, face turning red. “W-wait! It’s not my fault.”

He wiped his eyes, then looked up at you, still grinning widely. “Calm down, darling. I won’t bully you for not ever enjoying a good story.”

“I was a broke orphan in the undercity,” you snapped defensively. “Where would I find a novel?”

He hummed indulgently, but he was still smirking. You slammed the book onto the table. 

“Well, after today, I will be enjoying a good story. So hah!”

He snickered again, and the triumphant look on your face faltered. He leaned over to tap the cover with a long finger. “You’ll enjoy a good story, yes. Not sure about the ‘good’ part, or even the ‘enjoy’ part, although-“ he snapped his fingers, “-you do seem like the type to have awful taste.”

“Excuse me?” You gasped, shocked. You leaned over and swiped his drink, which was left neglected beside the open ledger he’d been inspecting, and swirled it around. You took a sip. “I have wonderful taste.”

“In what? Awful novels?”

You smiled at him, fluttering your lashes. “In friends.”

His face turned slightly red and he quickly looked away from you as you took another sip, eyes never leaving his. “Flattery won’t work on me.”

“Aww.” You pouted, then shoved the drink back to him. A little droplet rolled down the side of the cup. “What a shame.”

He cleared his throat. “Let’s just drop this, shall we?” 

“Of course,” you giggled, earning yourself a swat from him.

“Go away. I’m trying to read.”

You stood up, turning as if you were about to leave. But just as you least expected it you lunged into his side of the booth, tackling him as you shoved him for a seat. He yelped, the drink sloshing about before he set it down. “Get off of me!”

“No,” you laughed, straddling his lap. “You’re a killjoy.” There was a small dusting of coal on his cheekbone. You swiped at it, and his blush turned deeper. “I’m going to fix your eyeliner now.”

“That’s not necessary-“

You were already shoving your hand into his jacket pocket, before pushing his chest. He fell back, letting out a small noise of protest as you leaned over him, uncapping the eyeliner pencil. His loose hair spread across the leather of the seat unceremoniously. 

“Must you crawl on top of me?” He muttered as you rubbed at the corners of his eyes with your thumb. He hissed, jerking his head away. “Stop doing that.”

You poised the pencil over his face. “It’s more fun this way.”

“For you. I’m being crushed.” His actions betrayed his words- he looked completely fine, as if the body weight you’d tossed on him barely bothered him at all. You fell silent, chewing your lip with concentration as you touched the pencil to skin. He sighed. “So what’s your stupid novel about?”

“There’s a girl called Julia,” you said slowly, focused at the task at hand. “And she falls in love with a boy who only lives as long as a magic candle burns.”

He shifted uncomfortably beneath you as your knee dug into his side. “What’s the boy’s name?”

“Nico.”

“Right. And this candle. It burns eternal?”

“Unless someone puts it out, yes.”

“Right.” His eyes fluttered shut, relishing your warm breath skimming across his face. “Tell me more.”

“Well, she has two sisters. Ciara and Elysia. And they help her protect her love’s candle.”

“Not a classic evil stepsister situation, then?”

You laughed a little, and he scrunched up his face. You frowned and flicked his forehead. “Stop moving your face,” you snapped. And then you sighed. “No. It’s not an evil stepsister situation. In fact, they’re the best sisters she could have asked for.”

“How does he keep it safe- before she meets him, I mean?”

“He keeps it in a special case, so no wind can blow it away.”

“So what does it need protecting from?”

“Well, there’s an evil witch-“ you’d just finished his second eye when he grabbed your wrist, pushing it away.

“Alright, that’s it.”

You huffed. “It’s not that bad.”

“Well, how does it end?”

“I suspect they vanquish the evil witch and live happily ever after.” You put the cap back on the eyeliner and straightened up to admire your handiwork. He rolled his eyes.

“See? Cliché. If I was writing it, I’d make the candle burn out, and everyone would die, and it would have a tragic ending.”

“I hope you never write a book,” came the grave reply.

“I’m very creative.”

You snorted derisively, before clambering off of him. He sat up, slightly dazed. His face was dusted with a light blush. You laughed at the absolute mess that was his hair, and stepped forward to run your hand through it, smoothing it down. He didn’t break eye contact with you.

The intense gaze that you tried to avoid made your heart start beating faster, and you looked away quickly, blushing.

“Very creative.”

You woke in the middle of the to the sound of people screaming your name.

The minute Donna burst into the Haven through the black door, a group of bruised, soot-covered employees behind her, you knew something was wrong. You flitted your panicked, still half-asleep gaze over your people- black eyes, cuts, bruises. Their clothes were charred, and they were covered in black dust. You peered over Donna’s shoulder. Multiple people were being carried, their bodies practically grilled.

You almost vomited at the sight. 

You grabbed Donna’s shoulders. She was shaking. “What the fuck happened?”

“I foun- I found them,” she gasped. A woman stepped forward, a burn on her shoulder. Her face was tearstained. 

“They threw a bomb down there,” she panted. “They’re bombing the whole ground floor.”

You froze in shock. Donna let out a wail and pushed past you, the ragged group of people pouring into the Haven and pounding up the stairs, in search of backup and medics.

An uneasy feeling was gnawing at your gut. You charged back into your office and seized your jacket, shrugging it on as you went back to the back door. But then you froze, hand hovering over the doorknob.

Maybe it was a good idea to check on Allison before you left.

You lurched up the stairs, gripping the banister, and went to the black-haired girl’s room where Allison was initially supposed to bunk- where you’d sent her. You knocked on the door tentatively, heart in your mouth. No answer. You knocked again, harder this time, until you were banging on the door, the walls rattling. Kids and adults alike poked their heads out of their rooms to watch the spectacle.

A sickened-looking Donna stepped forward, handing you something. A key. “The master key,” she told you tiredly. You grappled with the lock, the door eventually swinging open. You burst inside the room.

It was empty.

You spun around, head reeling. No, no, no, no. Everything was going too fast. You’d woken up about ten minutes ago. It was too much. You clawed at your neck, fighting for breath. Donna grabbed you, and pointed at something. 

“[name], look,” she gasped breathlessly. Your eyes followed her gaze. 

The window.

Wide open.

You let out a piercing scream.

Donna winced, and you doubled over, clutching your head. Your lungs fought for oxygen as everything in your vision swam. You were about to be sick.

“Where is she?” You cried. A group of concerned people were standing in the doorway, exchanging concerned looks. You turned on them, sweat sticking your hair to your skin. “Where?”

A teenage girl stepped forward. Her mascara was smudged and her hair was mussed. “Before we went to sleep,” she began. “She kept talking about how she was gonna go visit the factory.”

Your body was trembling violently, uncontrollably. You stared at the ground. Donna stepped towards you, reaching for you gingerly, but you wrenched away from her. Your head snapped up, eyes blazing.

“Where’s Elliot?”

Within half an hour, your suspicions were confirmed. Neither Elliot nor Allison were to be seen anywhere in the Haven. You were at the front door, a dagger up your sleeve and a gun at your hip, and Donna was trying to desperately convince you to not leave.

“I’m going,” you said with finality, forcing the words past your throat. You felt so nauseous you couldn’t talk. Donna raised her bloodshot eyes to meet yours.

“Please, be sa-“

You were already out the door.

Charging down the street, you finally reached the usually quiet corner of the undercity, where the factory would sit in derelict solitude.

But now, everything was ablaze.

You whirled around. Tongues of flame surrounded you, leaping high into the night sky, smoke pouring from the front door of the factory which was wide open. You coughed into your fist, eyes watering.

And from inside, you heard a little girl’s screams.

“ALLISON!” You screamed. Another loud boom shook the giant building, more smoke and fire billowing around you. You looked to the sky and saw a man on the roof, looking down at you. Without a second thought you raised your gun.

The bang of the shot was as loud as the bombs. You watched as the silhouette of the man jerked, head knocking back, then toppled off the side of the roof to land in the dust of the factory yard, just in front of the metal mesh fence. Racing to the front gate of the factory, you ran inside. The smoke was thick, the acrid scent of burning flesh filling your nostrils. You mindlessly whirled around, and got sick all over the floor.

Your throat, nose and eyes burned. Your skin burned. You looked up, tears streaking your face. There was no way you would find Alice in here.

You heard shouting again. 

“Madam! Help!”

Your heart lurched at Allison’s voice. It was coming from outside. You ran outside, skidding to a halt, before turning a corner to find yourself in the factory yard. “I’m coming!” You tried to yell, but it came out as a rasp. Coughing helplessly, you looked around the flaming, flat land. Your vision was swimming with tears. Smoke poured from the dry patches of dirt which had lit on fire, rising into the sky. 

“Mom!” 

You almost shut down.

Mom?

This was getting too familiar. 

You spun around, barely seeing as you staggered a little. “Allison!” You called. “Allison, baby, I’m here. Where are you?”

“I’m here!”

You spun around to see a small figure lying in a heap on the ground, just in front of a heap of metal machinery. You charged through the smoke, until you skidded to a halt. The gun you were clutching so tightly dug into your palm. 

There was a giant wall of fire blocking you from her. She was still a good bit away- you could just barely make out her face- or maybe you could’ve, if your eyes weren’t on fire and smoke wasn’t obscuring your vision until all you saw was black and grey. 

“I can’t feel my legs!” Her small voice was raspy and raw, pathetic whimpers escaping her lips. You coughed even harder, hacking as ash settled in your throat. You doubled over and looked up. The heat of fire caressed your face.

Through the thick haze of smog, something flashed red, close to Allison’s little silhouette, her numb, limp legs. It beeped, speeding up.

Your eyes widened.

“ALLISON-“

The explosion was deafening.

You groaned, rolling over and opening your eyes. Everything was blurry. Your ears were ringing. You couldn’t hear a thing. You vaguely registered your gun lying a few feet on the ground away from you.

Sitting up, you raised your pounding head slowly. The fire had subsided, burning around you instead of in front, like it had been pushed away. Your shaking eyes landed on a limp, black figure, lying on the ground away from you.

Allison. You scrambled to your aching feet, bile rising in your throat. No. 

Collapsing next to Allison, you turned her over. Her eyes were wide open, glazed over. Your stomach lurched. “No, no, no.”

Her hair was burnt to a crisp, flesh completely charred. Blood pooled from the back of her head, soaking into the dirt. Her skin was blackened with ash and soot. 

Your face contorted with agony.

The scream that tore past your throat was cracked and broken. You slumped, pressing your forehead to hers, ignoring the blood. Her corpse was still feverishly hot, matching the tears streaming down your face and dripping down your chin. You couldn’t bear to look at her eyes. Her wide, cold, dead eyes. 

“You can’t leave me,” you whimpered. “You can’t leave too.” You broke down again, smoothing your hand over her dry hair as loud sobs racked your shoulders. 

A hand fell onto your shoulder. You gasped, jerking violently. You spun around, swinging wildly at whoever had touched you.

You didn't get far, falling back to your knees. You stared at the shoes that stepped in front of your hands, which were shaking, braced on the ground for support as you hunched over. You were about to be sick again. 

You looked up through your hair, straight into a pair of mismatched eyes.

You lurched backwards. “Silco.” Your voice was trembling. He was panting, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There were fresh burns on his arms, you noticed. A few strands of otherwise carefully slicked back hair had fallen in front of his forehead. 

“You,” you whispered, eyes flicking wildly to Allison’s body. “You did this.”

“[name],” he started, but didn’t finish his sentence, instead staring at you and breathing hard. His silence was deafening.

“What. What are you doing here?” You licked your cracked lips. Your voice was broken and raw. 

“I wasn’t informed of this…” he looked around coldly. “Massacre.” His eyes settled back onto you, volcanic embers burning a hole into your face. 

“Are you sure about that?” You rasped huskily. Your heart was beating hard enough for you to feel it in your fingertips.

Silco raised an eyebrow, stepping back.

You lunged for the gun.

He kicked you aside, and it knocked the breath out of you and the gun out of your clutches. You rolled over, groaning. Your ribs throbbed. Without thinking, you kicked out wildly with your leg, adrenaline rushing through you. He collapsed and you drove your knee into his face. His head back snapped back, blood dripping from his nose. Shaking like a wild animal, you clawed your way back, towards the gun.

Blood was pounding in your eyes, vision tunneling. Fury coursed searing hot through your veins, hotter than the fire. Your hand reached for the gun handle.

Silco’s hand suddenly closed over your wrist, pinning it to the ground. You could feel his chest press against your back as he leaned down, hot breath hissing in your ear.

“I knew the lock was you.”

You bit his forearm.

He growled, yanking his arm back, bringing the gun along with it. He tossed it away, into the flames. Twisting around, your fist connected with his jaw. He lurched to the side, but not before he dug his hand into you, hauling himself over you again, his own punch knocking your head back into the ground. Blood dripped down your lips. He shoved his face into yours, eyes blazing with fury. You were breathing hard, tears still tracking down your face.

“You really do think you can just get away with anything, don’t you?” He snarled, slamming his palm down onto the ground next to your head. “Testing my patience? Toying with me?” You inhaled shakily, feeling for the dagger inside your sleeve. It slowly slid down past your cuff. You felt cool sharp metal against your palm. His nose grazed yours, breath hot on your lips.

“You killed her,” you rasped. He froze.

“What?”

“You see that body lying over there?” Your voice was cracked and barely audible. “My second daughter. Dead.”

Something twisted across his face as he raised his eyes to the limp form behind you both. Guilt? Disgust? Nausea? The only other indicator of his reaction was his chest heaving up and down faster, breathing picking up. The handle of your dagger slid into your hands.

Silco noticed, and snatched it from your hands. You let out a yell of protest as it clattered to the ground some feet away. You slammed your hands against his chest, pushing him away and winding him.

“She was just a child, Silco!” You were screaming. You didn’t know who you were talking about- whether it was Alice, or Allison, or both. Your voice was dripping with grief and venom. “My child. And now she’s gone because of this…” you trembled. “This war you’re so desperate to start.”

He was still staring at Allison’s charred corpse, breathing hard, an unreadable look on his face. His eyes were wide. He looked back at you, and his face hardened. “You think I wanted this?” He snarled. “You think I’d sacrifice innocent lives for no reason? I didn’t even know this was happening. Don't put this on me.”

You lunged at him, gripping his collar. You shoved your face right into his. “It’s already on you,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. “Every death, every scream, every goddamn spark in this hellhole- it’s all on you. You made Shimmer, you terrorized the people, you lit the match.” Your breathing was hard and shaky as he slowly raised his hands to your wrists, prising your grip off of him. His face still hadn’t changed.

“You’re thinking just like him, aren’t you?” He muttered. You looked at him, eyes glassy and bloodshot.

“What?” You croaked.

“You sound just like Vander.” He practically spat his words, rising to his feet. You followed suit, subtly snatching up your discarded dagger and concealing it back within your sleeve. 

“I lit the match because no one else would, [name],” he continued sharply. “You think peace comes with just sticking your head in the mud, sitting around, waiting for something to happen? You think that’s how we’ll win freedom?” He laughed, the noise harsh and dry. “You’re all delusional.”

What is he talking abou-

As if on autopilot, the words poured out of you. You jabbed a trembling finger at Allison’s corpse. “You think that little girl chose to be a part of your revolution?” You gasped. “You think she asked to die in your crusade?”

“And you think I chose to let Zaun rot?” He shot back, scowling, gritting his teeth and refusing to break eye contact. “To let Piltover crush us under their boot while people like you sit back and do nothing?”

You stepped back, voice bitter. “Don’t you dare,” you breathed. “Don’t you dare act like you care more than I do. You’re just better at justifying the cost.”

Silco straightened up, squaring his shoulders. He’d calmed down, voice quieter now, but still just as dangerous as before. The crackling flames illuminated his silhouette against the dark night sky. 

“The cost is unbearable, I know that,” he said steadily. “But if we don’t fight, if we don’t do what’s necessary- all of their deaths will be for nothing.” His eyes met yours with the same conviction you’d seen in him many times before. “Do you want her to have died for nothing?”

“She died because you couldn’t see past your own damn pride,” you muttered, turning away. You stared at the ground, tears making your vision blur together. You couldn’t bear to see Allison’s corpse. “You’d burn all of Zaun down and call it liberation.”

His voice was as cold and hard as ever from behind you. Your eyes settled on Allison’s dead, glassy ones, and you twitched, wincing. “Sometimes, fire is the only way to cleanse what’s broken.” You couldn’t tear your eyes from the charred flesh.

Something inside you snapped. You whirled around, voice venomous as you spat your words,

“Then I’ll make damn sure you’re the first to burn.”

He barely had time to react before you lunged at him, driving the dagger deep into his side. You both collapsed on the ground, rolling across the rough dirt. 

Regret immediately stabbed into your gut.

You gasped, drawing the knife out of his flesh, watching the blood seep through his clothes. The bloodied blade clattered to the ground as you pressed your hands to your mouth, eyes wide and shaking.  

“No. No. No.” You chanted the words like a mantra, hands roaming over his injury, desperate to staunch the bleeding. Your vision shook, flashing. For a moment he was young again, an empty eye socket looking at you unseeingly. You jerked back, gripping your head. “Sil, I’m sorry.”

He coughed up blood, cursing under his breath. “You’re crazy,” he rasped, and you sobbed over his bleeding body.

“I shouldn’t have,” you choked. His face was rapidly growing pale. He weakly grabbed your wrist, pulling it down towards the ground so he could see your face. You were an absolute mess.

“The Last Drop,” he groaned, and you immediately hauled him up, balancing him on your shaking shoulders. 

The limp to the Last Drop was a long, silent one, the silence broken every now and then with your guilty sobs and incessant, crazed rambling. Silco was too busy bleeding out all over you to speak, occasionally coughing up a bout of blood.

The windows of the Last Drop were dark. It was closed. You figured as much- it was about three in the morning. You slammed yourself against the door. It fell open and you stumbled.

By the time you’d dragged him to his office he’d lost a lot of blood. You yourself were soaked in it. Panic had seized you, making you jerk, twitch and tremble. Hot tears were still flowing down your face. You let Silco slump in his chair, your blood-soaked palms steadying his shoulders. He raised his half-lidded, dazed gaze to meet yours, head lolling to the side.

You slumped onto the floor beneath him, sniffling. “Fuck. I’m so fucked.”

He let out a small grunt of agreement. You began to shake. 

“I should have kept my promise. I said if anything happened to you or Alice, I’d kill my self.” You gripped your head, fingers tangling in your ragged hair. “I shouldn’t be here right now. If I just kept my fucking promises, maybe you… maybe Allison…” your throat choked up and you couldn’t complete your sentence. Your face began to dry, no more tears left in you as you raised your head to him. He was watching you silently. 

“When I first found out Alice was dead and you were missing,” you whispered, “I swear I almost held out on my promise.” You wiped your eyes, licking your cracked, dry lips. 

“I was going to drown myself in the river,” you confessed, then looked up at him. He hummed, reaching out with a weak hand to put his hand on your head. Your face twisted with painful emotions as you leaned forward, putting your head on his lap. “Every day after that I’d go and try to work up the courage to do it.” Your voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

He breathed something incoherent, and you looked up at him. You just barely heard him the second time.

“No. You should have lived.”

But the words barely registered in your mind as you collapsed onto the floor at the foot of his desk, exhausted. 

The adrenaline had finally worn off, but you’d fallen asleep before the true reality of the night’s events had set in.

The waters of Zaun’s river lapped at the river bank as you both lounged on the ground, the sun illuminating the pages of your book wonderfully. Lying flat on your belly, you kicked your feet back and forth as Silco skipped the stones over the water’s surface.

“We were supposed to be out together,” he grumbled. “But you have your nose buried in that stupid book.”

You flicked a page, shushing him. “Be quiet. Julia’s just about to kill the evil witch.”

He chuckled, amused as his eyes settled on your unaware face. They traced the curve of your nose, the way your lashes fluttered as you blinked, the way your lips parted in wonder at the narrative unfolding behind your eyes.

“Does the evil witch ever get a name?” He probed. You looked up.

“The Evil Blanca,” you said proudly. He laughed.

“That’s a stupid name.”

You rolled your eyes, returning to the book. He leaned over to you, breath tickling your ear. “Be honest, [name], and admit that book’s shit.”

You gave a small laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you angled your head away. “Stop that. It tickles.”

“What does?” He put a palm flat on the ground next to you, caging you in as he leaned back into your nape. You squirmed against him.

“That!” You laughed breathlessly. 

His hands flew to your sides, attacking you with tickles until you were gasping for air, tears in your eyes as you could barely breathe. “Admit the book’s awful.”

“I admit it!” You cried out, cackling hard as you tried to wiggle away from him. He grabbed your hips and dragged you back in. “It’s the worst thing I’ve ever read!”

“Not possible. It’s the only thing you’ve ever read.” His fingers stopped moving, but his hands didn’t move away from your hips. You kicked one of your legs over his, grinning. 

“I’ve read your ledgers,” you pointed out.

“They’re numbers, [name].”

“They’re better cause I know you’re the one who wrote them.”

“So what? You’re in love with my handwriting?”

You swooned dramatically. “You’ve caught me.”

“I didn’t know my handwriting had an admirer.”

You smirked, leaning away a little. He leaned forward in return. “Not just your handwriting?”

“Is that so?” He murmured, eyes transfixed on your face. 

You were quickly beginning to flush at the turn the conversation was taking, and pulled away from him, drawing your knees up to your chest. “R-right, well- you’re right, the book is really cheesy. But it’s sweet. And it’s fun.”

He picked up the hardback and flicked to the page you’d marked, a small grin still on his face. “Flowery language,” he remarked. “The bane of my existence.”

“Just say you’re a Negative Nancy,” you complained, and snatched the book off of him. He sighed and rolled his eyes. You stowed it away in your satchel, standing up.

He followed suit, slinging his arm around your shoulders. You grunted as he dragged your closer, making you stumble. “Last Drop?”

“Is that the only place you spend your time?” You muttered. He grinned and looked at you.

“There and with you.”

“That’s really sad.”

He jostled you, and you yelped, clutching the strap of your satchel. “Don’t act as if it’s the same with you,” he said, jabbing at your ribs. You twisted away from him.

“Not true,” you retorted. “I have Hilda’s shop. And Alice.”

“Speaking of which, is waiting for you at the Last Drop. So let’s pick up the pace, shall we?”

The door creaked as you both entered. Alice and a younger Violet were sitting on the floor, a spread of colourful papers beneath them. Felicia emerged from behind the counter. You looked at her pregnant belly, dropping the satchel to the floor. 

“Looks uncomfortable,” you remarked, walking over to where Alice was. Your daughter looked up at you, giving you a gap toothed grin. You leaned down.

Felicia sighed. “It looks how it feels,” she said tiredly, walking across the room to slide into a chair. You picked up one of Alice’s drawings. The aid filled with heavy silence and the scratching of Vi’s crayon on paper.

“I drew a flower!” Alice said proudly. You held the paper to your chest.

“It’s wonderful. When we go home, I’ll frame it and hang it up. In fact, let’s dedicate an entire wall to your drawings.” You began picking up the strewn drawings all over the floor. “It’ll be our own little art gallery.”

“Really?” Her big green eyes were shining. You laughed and nodded. You could hear Silco’s footsteps behind you as he went to sit at Felicia’s table.

“Ever thought of having kids, [name]?” Felicia asked. There was another drink in her hand. She swirled the straw around in the sweet liquid. You turned to look at her. 

Silco was sitting opposite her, face pointedly looking at a book. You realized it was the ‘Julia and the Wickerlight’ he hated so much. He was frowning, flicking through the pages, eyes skimming the words. Felicia was facing you, looking at you expectantly. 

“Oh, I’m not sure.” You turned back to Alice, smoothing the girl’s hair over. She wasn’t listening, too busy creating another crude, wobbly masterpiece. “Dunno who I’d even have them with anyways. Plus, I have Alice.” You quickly glanced back to her, eyes flicking to Silco and then back to her, and flashed her a grin. 

She shifted in her seat, and Silco looked up. “What about you, Sil? You're gonna have kids?”

His brow furrowed and he turned back to the book. “Unless I find someone, most likely not.”

“Go find someone then.”

He waved a hand at her dismissively, ignoring her. She rolled her eyes and looked at you. “How come you’re not sure? I mean, sure, you have Alice, but wouldn’t you want one that’s really your own?”

“Alice is really my own,” you said coldly. She flushed. 

“Not like that,” she started quickly. “I-“

“I should hope not.” You stood up, and dusted yourself off. “And anyways, I’m not impartial to the company of children.”

“Really?” She crossed her arms, elbows pressed against the table as you flopped into a seat, digging around in the previously-discarded-on-the-floor satchel Silco had dragged along with him. “You look like you love them.”

“I’m nice to them, and care about them,” you retorted. You pulled out a pack of cards. “Anyone wanna play Un?”

“No thanks,” Silco muttered. He was focused on the book. You nudged him teasingly.

“See? It’s not so bad, is it?”

“…It’s well written,” he said stiffly. You squealed with delight, grabbing the book from his hands. He looked at you, miffed.

“Sorry.” You cleared your throat. “I’m just glad you like it.”

“Give it back,” he snapped. You blinked at him. 

“…Why?”

“I was just about to read the bit where Blanca steals Nico’s candle. The book, please.”

You bit your lip, grinning as you practically thrust the book at him. “You love it.”

“It’s readable.”

You ignored him, still grinning wildly as you began shuffling the cards. Felicia watched you both carefully, before picking up the small hand you’d tossed to her. You swept the remainder of the cards into a neat deck by your side.

You played your first card, eyes flicking to the bar. Vander had emerged from the back, and was wiping down the bar top. Alice and Violet had migrated to a small, quiet booth in the corner.

Felicia noticed you staring. “It won’t be a rowdy night,” she reassured you. “It’s Monday evening. People tend to keep it quiet on nights like these.”

You gave her a brisk smile and nodded as she set down a yellow card, and dismissively flicked your own yellow on top. “You’ve got Vi. I’ll trust your judgement.”

Felicia laughed, running a hand through her hair as she set down a yellow plus-two. You paused, staring at her. “It’s been three cards since the game started,” you said, affronted. She laughed, raising a shoulder.

“Pick up two, then.”

Your hand hovered over your plus-four, when you felt Silco’s breath on your neck.

“Don’t play it.”

You turned to him. His breath was on your cheek now. “What?” You whispered softly. He scooted closer to you, eyes still fixated on your hand.

“Save the plus-four for later.” He took two cards from the deck on the side and pushed them into your lap. His fingers grazed your thigh and you shivered. Felicia was focused on the two girls in the corner as she waited for your next move. “If she’s only on one card or hits you with plus-four instead. Save your good cards for later in the game.”

The sudden proximity was making you blush, even though you’d been this close before. Was it the fact that he was whispering in your ear? Patiently explaining to you, attention fixed on you, hands on your-

Felicia tossed down another card. He straightened up and turned back to the book. You looked at her, frazzled.

“Uh, right.” You played a red six. She smirked at your red face.

“What’s wrong? You look like a tomato.”

“Too much to drink, maybe,” you said briskly, rearranging the cards in your quivering hands.

“You haven’t drunk,” she pointed out flatly. You shrugged. 

“Whatever. Then it’s the heat.”

“It’s the middle of Nove-“

You slammed your hand onto the table. She flinched and Silco raised his head. You drew your palm away to reveal the black card.

Plus four.

Felicia sulkily picked up four cards, pressing her lips together. You rolled your eyes, huffing lightly. “Colour change to red.”

Silco looked at you inquisitively. You looked at him. “What?”

“You didn’t take my advice.”

Felicia put down a card. You put down another. Plus two. “Un,” you said excitedly. She groaned, looking down at the six cards still left in her hands. Silco touched your shoulder. You looked at him.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, and put down your final card before Felicia could even make her move. She tossed her hand onto the table- every colour but red lay before her. “I won though.”

He shrugged. “That you did.”

You grinned. “How’s the book going?”

“Very suspenseful.” He handed the thin copy to you. “I’ll finish it later.”

“Have you marked it?”

“I find dog-earring pages a horrific practice, but since your book’s pages are practically dog faced I took the liberty to make a little fold where I left off.” You turned the book to the side to see a small break in the pages, then back up at him again.

“It’s fine.” 

He let out a short breath. “I know it’s fine.”

“Let’s read together.”

He looked at you as you shoved him further down the booth, so his back was pressed to the wall, and clambered over his legs to get to his other side. You pressed the book against his chest. “I’m way ahead of you, so it’ll be like a recap for me.

He tensed beneath you as you pressed yourself against his arm, shifting so your head was resting comfortably in the crook of his neck. Then relaxed, melted. You could hear his quickening heartbeat. He gingerly opened the pages.

“Fine,” he muttered. You hummed, basking in the warmth radiating off of him in waves.

‘And so, Ciara and Elysia set off upon the high hills to search for their sister, not knowing about the castle she had bound herself to. Their dedication and love illuminated a trail through the forest…’

Silco smacked a hand against the page exasperatedly. “See? This is awful. How does their dedication and love lead them to a magical hidden castle?”

You rolled your eyes, tilting your head. Your lips just barely brushed his collarbone. “Because it’s a story, idiot.”

“Right.” He scoffed. You nudged him.

“See, something must have led me to you, right?” You cheekily joked. After a moment of silence, you looked up at him. He was blushing, avoiding your gaze.

“What, dedication and love?”

“Precisely.”

He scoffed, still not looking at you. “Liar. It was your nicotine addiction.”

“I just wanted a cigarette!” You protested. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap. You stiffened. He tilted your chin so you were facing the book again, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“And I’m glad you did.”

-

You were in bed.

Awake.

You didn’t know where you were at first. By the patterns in the ceiling, you assumed you were in the Haven.

You didn’t know who’s clothes you were wearing. Judging by the soft texture, you assumed they were Donna’s.

You didn’t know who scrubbed you clean. Your face felt fresh. The air was cool. Your palms weren’t soaked in blood, other than a small dark line of red beneath your fingernails. You assumed it was Donna.

You hadn’t moved an inch, bar your chest moving up and down with every shallow breath. 

You feared if you moved, then you’d have to face everything that had happened last night. That it would become truly real. You refused to believe in it otherwise.

Shutting your raw, tear-dry, sleep-crusted eyes, you tried to fall back asleep.

“…she hasn’t left her room in ages, Sev, I don’t think she’ll come out to see you. Especially if…”

Your back pressed to your bedroom door, you listened to Donna and Sevika’s conversation in the office. The room was messy and dark, curtains drawn, bathing the walls in cold shadows. Your hair fell in front of your face, breathing ragged as you pressed the back of your head to the wood.

“…really so-…”

Sevika’s voice faded in and out. Your head throbbed. 

She’d been visiting all week, at least once every two days. At least. 

You couldn’t face anyone, in fear of a meltdown. So instead you stayed inside your room. If you didn’t have to face the outside world, you wouldn’t have to face the aftermath within it. What happened wouldn’t have been real. That was your logic. 

Silco was right. You were delusional. You were crazy. You closed your eyes and the image of him bleeding out in his chair was seared behind your eyelids.

You turned over a toy in your hands. It was a cube, made up of smaller cubes, one colour on each side. Allison’s stupid toy. You twisted it and it clicked, then twisted it back. You couldn’t bear to mess up the colours.

Am I a curse? Every child I take in dies. Hands trembling, you dropped the cube and it clunkily rolled across the carpet.

Someone softly knocked on the door. You didn’t reply.

The doorknob turned, and whoever was on the other side seemed to take it as an invitation to enter. They pushed the door open, and Donna stepped in, looking down at you. 

“[name],” she whispered softly. “What are we going to do?”

You looked up at her through your hair, nails digging into your arms. Donna sat down next to you, eyes looking at you, full of concern.

“The Haven has suffered so much loss,” she whispered. “We can’t lose our leader too. We need you more than ever.”

The sliver of light coming through the door landed on your eye, illuminating the bloodshot viens across your sclera. Donna’s eyes were watery, the skin beneath them red and raw.

“Is she really gone?” You rasped. Donna’s face contorted with agony, and she put her head on your shoulder, letting out a sob. Your ragged composure began to crack. 

“Yes.”

You pushed her off of you. She looked up at you as you slowly rose. Your nose was stinging, throat was dry, eyes were burning. A single tear slipped down your face.

You sniffled, wiping your nose, and looked away. “I’ve shown enough weakness.” Your voice was still gravelly, but it had steadied. “I won’t let them get away with this.”

Donna stood up and wrapped her arms around your shaking shoulders as you silently sobbed into the crook of her neck.

-

Sevika continued to call by. By now she’d figured out you’d pulled yourself back together, emerging from the depths of your room to run the Haven. Donna told you it was to discuss the compensation for the casualties, to ‘clear up misunderstandings.’

Whatever the fuck that meant.

There were no misunderstandings. Their explosion had killed your Allison. The worst part was: they’d taken the opportunity of your abscence to secure the building. This would not stand.

So you decided to take some proper action. 

One threatening trip to Hilda’s shop told you all you needed to know. Jinx came in at least once every week, sometimes even multiple evenings in a row. If it wasn’t for art supplies, it was for puzzles, toys or junk to tinker or mess around with. She stepped into the store unsupervised, while Sevika waited outside.

Alice had always liked art. 

Allison had always enjoyed puzzles. 

The sky was already growing dark, courtesy to winter, when you set out, dressed in simple, practically clothes to enter Hilda’s shop. The bell tinkled. You crossed your arms, ducking behind an aisle where no one would see you. Hilda wasn’t behind the counter. 

The bell tinkled again, and Jinx skipped in. You stepped out from the shadows. She noticed you, and froze as you slowly stepped towards her.

“Jinx,” you murmured in greeting, then smiled softly. She relaxed a little, stepping back. “Hey. It’s been a while, am I right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it has.” You grinned, plucking a little metal flower from a shelf. You turned it over. 

“Any news?”

She shrugged, crossing her arms as she walked around. She stopped at a little shelf, and looked up. On the very top was a box full of tools. She stretched towards it. You stepped behind her, and grabbed the box, dumping it onto the floor with a thud. She grinned at you gratefully. 

She leaned down to rummage through the box, screwdrivers and wenches clattering onto the dusty floor next to your feet. “Some big thing happened at this factory Silco was trying to get.” She finally found what she wanted- a large screwdriver. She raised it to her lips, blowing the dust off of it. “No one will tell me what happened, and I’m not allowed to see him. But I heard that ogre Sevika talking- they’re saying he’s been stabbed. They also said he’s pretty much healed but…” She suddenly frowned, staring at the floor. “I don’t want him to die.” Her voice was small.

Your heart wrenched painfully with guilt, but you pushed it down, leaning down to her level. You plucked the screwdriver from her hands. She let you. “I don’t either,” you whispered. “But don’t worry. He won’t. He’s sent me to come get you.”

She looked up, large blue eyes looking at you hopefully. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was hushed. “Sevika needs to run off to attend to a little errand, and they’ve asked me to take you home.”

Jinx shuffled on her feet, perplexed. “Well… stranger danger.”

You grinned, but it was strained. “I’m his best friend, remember? And we’ve met before. We’re friends, not strangers.” She frowned.

“Tell me one thing about him a stranger wouldn’t know.”

You racked your brains, trying to think of a fact. The way they came to you so naturally made you feel slightly nauseous. “…His favourite colour is red.” You lowered your voice to a playful, conspiratorial hush. “Did you know when he was younger, he used to wear eyeliner?”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes lit up.

“Let’s go!”

“Right.” You stepped in front of her, blocking her way to the door. “But let’s go through the back. It’s faster that way.” 

Jinx frowned slightly, but then nodded. You took her hand, gently leading her through to the back door.

Hilda was leaning against the back wall as you stepped out into the cold air, smoking a joint. You stared at her flatly, Jinx’s hand in yours. She stared at you, mouth opening in panic.

Without another word, you left, walking down the street. Once you’d turned the corner, you discreetly pulled a small syringe from your pocket, smiling at Jinx as she looked up at you. Blissfully unaware of what was about to happen next.

This will only hurt a little, you thought.

Your office was dark, lights off, candles blown out. Sevika stepped into the room, squinting in the darkness. The silence hung heavy.

Until someone whimpered.

Her eyes flicked around wildly as she spun on the spot. “Who’s there?” She demanded. Something thumped, and she quickly found a light switch.

Instead of the usual rosy lights flickering on, a single, white bulb crackled overhead. The washed-out light was dim, illuminating a chair in the center of the room.

Donna blinked at Sevika, dazed. 

Sevika froze, heart lurching with terror.

Donna squirmed, skin rubbing against the restraints that bound her to the chair. Sevika charged over, immediately slicing the thick cords of rope and tugging down the gag that had been tied around her mouth.

“What the fuck happened?” She hissed. Donna gulped, gasping for air. 

“[name],” she groaned, head lolling to the side as she rubbed her wrists, where her skin had become red and raw. “[name] happened.”

Sevika clicked her tongue, muttering under her breath. “Of course she did.”

Sevika would never have admitted the absolute heart attack she’d had when she found Donna slumped and tied in the chair. For a minute she’d really thought that you had gone through with your promise.

“Jinx went missing,” Sevika hissed urgently. Donna scrunched her face up in pain, tipping her head back. Sevika grabbed her shoulder and shook her lightly. “Something tells me she has something to do with it.”

“I’ll tell you,” Donna rasped. “Go to the Last Drop. But send Silco to find her.” She licked her dry, cracked lips. “He’s the only one she really wants.”

She didn’t have to tell Sevika twice.

-

Green-tinged light poured into the dim office. You moved aside a couple of papers on Silco’s desk, sitting atop it, one knee to your chest and one foot swinging rhythmically beneath you as you idly spun his chair around. Jinx lay in it, bound tightly, fast asleep.

You twirled the gun in your hand with a deft flick of your wrist, expressionlessly watching Jinx stir in her drug-induced sleep. 

You’d placed Silco’s high-backed chair in front of the desk, pressed right up against the edge of the wood so you could sit right next to it. You brushed a hand through Jinx’s blue locks, then turned back to the table. 

There was a small glass on it. You could recognise it as the ones from the Last Drop all those years ago. At this, you subtly quirked a brow.

He kept them?

You picked it up. It was empty, you noticed, turning it over in your hand, eyes flicking to the door as it burst open. 

Silco staggered inside, a gun clutched in his hand. You set the glass down back onto the table. He froze, eyes flicking up and down your form, to gauge the situation, before they moved to the chair. It’s back was facing him.

You gave him a mirthless smile. “Look, Jinx. Your new daddy finally decided to join us.”

With one nudge of your foot the chair spun around again, Jinx’s sleeping, restrained body now facing him. You leaned in, mouth right next to the side of the chair’s back. 

“Say hi,” you grinned. 

Jinx, of course, did not say hello. And Silco simply stood there, breathing heavily, eyes flitting between you and Jinx in a panic. You bit your lip, nodding slowly and straightening up. You twirled the gun again, and within seconds it was pointed at Jinx’s head. 

“Hey, Silco,” you said, smiling coldly. “Take a seat, would you?”

He squared his shoulders, gesturing to you. “I think I’ll stand.” His teeth were gritted, jaw clenched with anger- no. Fear. You smirked and readjusted yourself so you were even closer to Jinx than before. The gun’s barrel brushed her cheekbone. 

“Suit yourself,” you shrugged. He clenched his fists. You grinned and the gun snapped away from Jinx’s cheek as you set back to twirling it idly, watching him hesitate, unsure of what to do.

“What do you want?” He snarled. You frowned, sitting back.

“Now that I think about it,” you said thoughtfully, “I actually don’t know.”

The frustrated noise he let out made you chuckle. You leaned back forward, reaching out to play with a blue strand of Jinx’s hair. “I guess…” you began, twisting around to look at the three syringes next to you on the table, laid out carefully. You picked up one. It was clear. “There’s a lot of things to fix.”

“Ji-“ Silco began to call out her name, but you pressed a finger to your lips urgently, hushing him.

“Shush. Shut up.” You flicked your head to her peaceful face. “You wanna wake her up? Make her panic?” You held up the syringe, which glinted in the light. “Make her hurt?”

Silco lunged towards you, but you swiftly pressed the needle to Jinx’s neck. He froze, and stepped back, lips pulling back in a snarl. “What the fuck did you put in that?”

“We’ll never know,” you said brightly. But then your expression fell into something darker. “I hope.”

“You drugged her,” he spat. You shrugged.

“It’s not lethal. Just puts her to sleep for a little while.”

He scowled, pacing the room, trying to figure out a way to get closer that wouldn’t result with a bullet through Jinx’s head or a shitload of fatal drugs in her bloodstream. He took a deep breath, smoothing his hair back. “Then I figure it’s time to talk.”

“It is.”

He turned to you, good eye narrowed. “I’d prefer to speak without Jinx’s life at risk.”

You grabbed the back of the chair and dragged the furniture closer. Jinx’s head rolled from one side to the other. “She’s not at risk,” you said reassuringly. “Unless you put her at risk.”

He scowled, flexing his fingers. You hummed a soft tune, brushing the pad of your thumb along your gun. 

“Let’s start by dropping the gun,” you suggested. He stared at you. “The longer you hold that gun, and the higher you hold it, the more likely she is to have her brains splattered across the wall.”

He stared at you, then at Jinx. Without another word, he stepped back, carefully placing the gun on the table, in full view from your vantage point perched on his desk. You nodded approvingly, grinning. 

“Let’s start, shall we?” 

He flopped down onto the sofa, a single arm across the back. He scowled at you, flicking his head subtly. “Start, then.”

“How about you start?” Your eyes were feverishly bright. He blanched.

“What?”

“How about you talk? I’m sure there’s things you want to say.”

He stared at you in silence. You laughed hysterically, spreading your hands. They were shaking. “I’ve pretty much done everything that needed to be said.” Your voice cracked with guilt. You looked back up at him, eyes wide. “How’s the stab wound?”

He tensed. “It’s fine,” he muttered, looking away. He pulled out a cigar and a lighter.

You stayed silent in expectation, fiddling with the gun in your hands. After a long, deep drag, and an exhale of smoke, Silco finally spoke.

“I didn’t mean for your second daughter to die.” He paused. “I didn’t even know you were raising one.”

You set the heels on the palms of your desk, leaning forward. “You said you didn’t know what was happening with the factory,” you hissed. “Explain.”

Silco flicked his hand, the one which was holding the cigar, dismissively. “I had a chem-baron deal with the matter for me. The factory was in his interest too.”

You lifted the barrel of your gun to your eye, peering in. In your peripheral you saw him tense up, and smirked. Concerned, are we? “So it’s a chem-baron I’m looking for,” you murmured. “What’s his name?”

“You can’t kill him.”

The gun clicked. It was pointed straight at Jinx’s head. He let out a sharp breath.

“Look, I-“ he looked away, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We need to discuss whatever you decide to do next.”

You mulled the thought over, and slowly lowered the gun. “You’re right,” you whispered. He nodded, relieved, but his stiff posture hid it well. Your eyes snapped back to him, and you jerked the gun in his direction, gesturing for him to continue. “Carry on.”

He sucked in a harsh breath. “I need the chem-barons to establish further control of The Lanes.”

“I need one of the chem-barons dead,” you quipped, fingers hovering over the three syringes. You selected another. The liquid inside was Shimmer purple.

You could feel his eyes burning holes into your cheek as you inspected the second syringe. “Now, what else was there to talk about?”

He scowled, looking away. You grinned, balancing your chin on your palm and idly spinning around the chair Jinx was sitting in. 

“I apologise about your daughter.”

“You’ve already said that.”

“I meant Alice.”

You looked up. Your eyes were still bloodshot. The side of gun was pressed against your temple. 

“What happened with Vander, Silco?’ You asked quietly. He tensed up again, jaw clenching. His silence was more than enough of a response for you. “Okay, fine. Don’t talk.” The gun clicked. Your frustration bubbled over into rage.

Without warning, you pointed it at Jinx’s direction, and fired.

At the terrified look on his face, you burst out laughing.

He stared at you incredulously, before the expression on his face morphed into fury. Between hysterical giggles, you managed to force out your words:

“It was-“ you were cut off by another bout of laughter. “It was a blank, you idiot!” You doubled over, gasping for air as you cackled. He was simply frozen in shock, standing up, feet stuck to the ground as he looked at Jinx’s sleeping face. The girl had barely stirred.

“You…”

You slid off of the desk, hand quickly swiping the bullet you’d left onto the table next to you. You stepped towards him, loading the gun, and gave a cheshire grin.

“You should have seen the look on your face.”

You stopped in front of him, tilting your chin up smugly.

“It was hilarious.”

His expression barely shifted, eye twitching in the subtle way it did when he got angry. 

You froze, the simple movement taking you back to when-

And then his wrist was on yours, twisting your arm around. You yelped, the gun clattering to the floor. He kicked it out of reach, stepping towards you dangerously. You laughed nervously, stumbling back, until you were backed up against the edge of the table. He braced his palms on the wood behind you, leaning in, fury simmering beneath the cold facade he’d put on.

His eyes locked onto yours. 

“SEVIKA!” He roared, slamming a palm down onto the wood. You flinched, angling away from it. The door burst open. He tilted his head to the side, slightly towards her direction, but never breaking eye contact with you. “Take Jinx away.” His voice was steady.

You didn’t watch, or say, or do anything as Sevika loosened the ropes, hauling Jinx onto her shoulder and taking her out of the room. The door slammed shut.

The cold fury simmering beneath his eyes made your heart quicken. 

You scrabbled for the syringe behind you, grabbing the nearest one. You swung your arm, the cylinder gripped tightly in your hand, the needle poised just above the skin of his neck. He didn’t flinch.

“I’ll make you burn for this,” he hissed. You scowled, tilting your head down. Your forehead brushed his.

“What? Did you think I was really going to shoot her?” You pressed down on the back of the syringe. The needle poked his skin, not quite going through. He gritted his teeth. “Did you think I was really going to drug her?”

He looked at you, panting. “This is a joke to you, isn’t it?”

“A joke?” Your smile turned thin, mirthless. “Well, what do you think?”

“You know what I thought?” He hissed. “I thought for a moment, you’d killed her.”

“And be just like you?”

He froze, pressing his lips together as he turned away. His silence spoke louder than anything else. Precisely. 

You paused. “You did, didn’t you?” It wasn’t a question. “And it terrified you.”

He laughed coldly. “Terrified me? No. Enlightened.”

But there was no malice in his tone, no fire in his gaze. It was more like he was trying to convince himself than insult you. You slowly dragged the needlepoint down his neck, and he shuddered.

“Don’t worry, Silco. I’d rather chew a hangnail than stoop to your level.”

His shoulders stiffened. His voice was low, bitter. “My level?”

Without warning, your hand shot to your own forearm, and you stabbed the needle into your veins. 

“Stop!” He barked, voice sharper than you expected it to be. He wrenched the syringe out of your hands.

He stumbled back as you laughed, before hissing with pain, and dropped the syringe. It rolled across the floor. Silco waited, tense, panicked eyes flitting across your face to see any signs of a change.

One.

Two.

Three. 

Four. 

Five…

You looked up at him and grinned. Nothing was happening. 

You sauntered towards him, kicking the syringe out of the way. “See?” Biting your lip and grinning, you reached down to pick up your gun. You straightened up, turning it side to side to inspect it. “If you’d looked properly, you’d notice that she wasn’t even tied up properly.”

His eye was slightly widened, staring at your forearm. 

You lowered the gun, face softening. A few moments of silence ticked by.

“I’m sorry for stabbing you.”

He looked at your expression, and something inside him jolted, because he spun away, running a hand through his hair. “It’s fine.”

“Silco…”

He turned his head to the side, not quite looking at you. “I should have come back. I had all those years to come back. But instead I chose to terrorise you.” 

You didn’t say anything, just breathing heavily. He scoffed lightly, flicking his head to the side. “And look what it’s cost me.”

A  flash of anger suddenly ignited in your chest. “Cost you?” You spat. “You think you’re the only one who’s lost something?”

“You’re right.” He wasn’t looking at you. But then he turned, and his gaze met yours, raw and unguarded. “You’ve lost more than I can repay.” His voice held no emotion. It was unnerving.

But still, the unspoken words hung between you both. 

I’m sorry.

He spoke again, his voice dripping with a sardonic tone that made a muscle in your face twitch. “And I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” Sarcasm bled through his words. The moment shattered.

He held out his hand, inviting you to certain death, or at the very least an injury. A blade in his other hand glinted in the low light. 

You walked towards him, footsteps slow and deliberate. “I hate you.” Your voice was a quiet, gentle murmur. “You’re everything I never wanted you to become. You’re the epitome of what I despise. But…”

You sniffled and put your hand in his outstretched one, wiping your eyes. His eyes were cold. You gripped his wrist, and pulled him close to you. “I knew you once. I cared for the man you were,” you whispered. “And I missed you.”

He stiffened as you pulled him into a tight hug, like a venus flytrap closing around it’s prey. 

But then he relaxed, and melted into the touch. You smiled coldly as you felt something cold, sharp and metal press threateningly against your back. 

You pulled away ever so slightly, staring into his mismatched eyes, his lips a centimetre from yours. The knife he was holding against your back pressed in harder.

“But you’re not who I remember anymore.”

You drove the gun you were holding into the back of his head. 

“And I don’t care for who you are now.”

He jerked, swaying, good eye momentarily wide with surprise, then collapsed. You caught him as he fell, slowly lowering him into his chair. He groaned, reaching weakly for the back of his neck, but his hand dropped halfway. “The name of the chem-baron?” You asked softly, caressing his cheek. He glared at you hazily.

“Finn,” he tried to snarl, but it just came out strained and weak. You smiled as he drifted out of consciousness.

“Thank you, Silco.”

-

Racing out of the Last Drop, you ran back to the Haven.

When you burst into your office, Donna was lounging on the sofa. She looked up at you bitterly as you dropped to your knees next to her, grabbing her hand.

“I’m sorry,” you pleaded. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so-“

“You fucking terrified me,” she hissed. “Do you know how terrifying it is to wake up at five in the morning and your psycho boss is gagging you and tying you to a chair?” You squeezed her hand tighter. She paused, and her face softened. “But I knew you were up to something, and wouldn’t hurt anyone.” You released her hand and sat back on the carpet, head in your hands. 

“I know who was behind the explosion,” you gasped quickly. “It’s a chem-baron, he’s-“

Donna cut you off mid rambling to take your hand tenderly. You flinched, caught off gaurd by the softness of the action. “[name],” she murmured, sitting up properly. “You need to calm down.”

You frowned. “Bu-“

“Listen to me [name]. The way you just went manic-“ her voice cracked. “It was terrifying. Where did you even go?”

“I was at the Last Drop,” you confessed. You crossed your arms and looked away. “With Silco.”

She froze. You continued. “We haven’t sorted everything out. But I doubt we’ll be fighting anymore.”

She let out a slow sigh. “Okay. What did you do?” You looked up, confused. “To make him listen. What did you do?”

“I kidnapped his daughter and pretended to shoot her,” came the casual reply.

She sucked in a harsh breath, grimacing. You continued.

“And then I hit him on the back of the head with a gun and made him pass out, but by all accounts, it was pretty productive.” You shrugged, drawing your knees to your chest as she stared at you incredulously. “But we’ve come to peace. And I have a new target.”

She stared at you for a few minutes, shocked, before shaking her head a little. “R- right, but you have to promise me. Please try to heal. Or at the very least… sort yourself out. You’re unstable. It hurts to look at.”

You looked at her, miffed. But the pleading look on her face made you relent. You reached up to ruffle her hair.

“I will.”

She sighed and shut her eyes. You smiled tiredly, standing up.

“So who’s this chem-baron?”

“Finn,” you said briskly, tossing your coat over the armrest. The action made your face twitch, Allison’s abscence particularly noticeable. “Look into him.”

Donna stiffened a little at this. You turned around to look at her. 

“What?”

“I know of him,” she murmured. “He’s the leader of the Slickjaws. They’re a pretty big criminal organisation.” She paused. “My brother joined them a while back. Before I joined you.”

This piqued your interest. You went to sit on the couch opposite, and pulled out a cigarette. You looked up at her, smirking a little, and placed a cigarette between your teeth. Your lighter flicked open, the glow of the flame flickering in your eyes.

“Tell me more.”

-

Zaun’s dusty streets were illuminated by the sun, which shone brightly overhead. You walked down the street with a pep in your step, stopping outside the Last Drop. Silco was sitting on one of the steps, scribbling something in a book with a look of intense concentration on his face. His black hair was loose again, falling in front of his face as he wrote.

You bounded over to him, shielding your eyes from the sun with a hand as you leaned down. “Earth to Silco. Sil!”

He looked up, squinting with irritation and the sun’s glare. But his expression lightened when he saw it was just you. “[name].” 

You flopped down next to him on the steps. The sun-baked stone was blazing hot beneath you. “Hey.”

He turned back to the book, not sparing you another glance. The charcoal pencil scratched against the paper.

You leaned over, pressing yourself to his shoulder and craning your neck to get a proper glimpse of what he was drawing. It was a map of Zaun. You recognised the words ‘Last Drop’ and ‘Safe House.’

“What’s this?” You demanded. He looked at you, frowning. Your mock glare fell into a laugh, your voice teasing. “Didn’t know you were an artist.”

He swept a lock of hair out of his eyes, but it fell back into place, making his frown deepen. You reached out and tucked it behind his ear. He glanced at you quickly, face turning slightly pink. “It’s called planning,” he replied roughly. You pressed your cheek into his shoulder, snatching the pencil out of his fingers.

He looked at you, affronted, as you reached over to press pencil to paper. “Planning could use a little flair,” you mused.

He stared at the crude doodle of the rat you’d drawn in the margin of his paper. You flicked the pencil, adding a few lines that he assumed were meant to resemble his hair. The charcoal broke, dusting the page with crumbs of black. He sighed, and you laughed guiltily.

“If you’re going to waste my supplies, at least make something worth looking at.”

You nudged him and flashed him a cheeky grin. “Admit it- you’d miss me if I stopped.”

He gave you a lazy smile, watching as you clumsily tried to sharpen the charcoal with a knife, and chuckled softly.

“You’ve caught me.”

Over the next week or so, Donna walked around you on eggshells, as did most of the Haven. Half expecting you to go manic, or have another meltdown. You, however, popped an unholy amount of pills and carried on with life. 

“So,” you said, spaying your palms out across the low table. “Tell me about the Slickjaws.”

Donna tossed a file on the table, right next to a bowl of grapes. The air was thick with Allison’s absence. Where she would have been sitting on the sofa, or kneeling on the carpet, there was nothing. Just you and Donna left. 

“Their leader is Finn,” she began. She opened the file, pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to you. “He got into crime as a teenager. They specialise in assassinations.”

“What does he look like?” You asked casually, popping a grape into your mouth. Donna paused, then shrugged, reaching for a grape of her own.

“Flashy, I guess. A bit like you, honestly. Except for you, that’s not really you.” She looked up at you, eyes glittering in the rose candlelight. You smiled.

Donna placed down something else. You picked it up. “What’s this?”

“He’s having a party,” she said, voice level as she traced the gold lettering on the paper with her index finger. You snorted derisively. “You should go.”

“Where’d you get this?”

“I have my ways.”

You picked up the invite. It certainly was eye-catching. “It’s strange if I show up uninvited. He hasn’t sent us the invite personally, has he now? If we don’t have an invite, we just look like creeps.” You frowned, turning the invitation over. “I don’t want to go in like that straight away.”

Donna smirked and placed another grape in her mouth. “But we know someone who probably does.”

You frowned, furrowing your brow.

“Who?”

Donna raised her eyebrows, mouthing a single word. Your eyes widened.

“Oh.”

-

“Jinx!”

The girl looked up from the bar counter that she was leaning on, straw still in her mouth. You smiled as you entered the Last Drop, holding out a hand to her. The young girl grinned, hopping off the barstool to tackle you in a hug. 

“Whoa, what’s gotten into you?”

She pulled back. “You brought me to Silco. I just wanted to say thanks.”

You laughed, ruffling her hair. For a moment you stilled, but then you smiled. “Of course.”

“Want a drink?”

“You know I do.”

You slid onto a barstool, curtly nodding at the bartender. Jinx leapt onto hers, and it shook as she landed, slowly spinning around. “Hey, Chuck. Get [name] a drink, will ya?”

“My name isn’t-“

“Chuck,” you said darkly. “She asked you to get me a drink.”

Chuck looked at you nervously. “You’re, uh… [name], right? You run the Haven?”

You winked, a subtle smirk on your lips as you produced a sleek black card from your jacket and tossed it to him across the counter. “Come find me any time, and I’ll get you sorted for anything.”

He clumsily set to fixing you a drink. “Gin and Tonic,” you ordered, and he nodded quickly. You turned to Jinx. “So. How’s it been?”

There was a small contraption on the table. Jinx picked it up. It was dusted with colours. “It’s been good,” she said casually, snatching up a screwdriver you recognised as the one she’d gotten when you’d kidnapped her from Hilda’s shop.

“Say… when I took you to meet Silco, what happened, exactly?”

She slotted the screwdriver into the dent in the actual screw, twisting, tightening. “Oh, nothing. I just woke up and he was there. He told me I’d passed out. Weird, cause I didn’t remember anything.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. Chuck placed your drink in front of you, but you didn’t spare him a glance. “We were halfway there when you sort of just… fainted. But it’s fine, cause I handed you over to Sevika.” You grinned, resting your cheek on your palm, elbow on the table. Your eyes flicked down to Jinx’s hands. “What’s that?”

“A bomb,” she replied nonchalantly. You raised an eyebrow. 

“A bomb?” She offered it to you. You reached out nervously for the object.

“Jinx.”

You both looked up.

Silco was standing by the door. He stepped into the light, eyes fixed on you. You smiled and leaned forward to sling your arm around Jinx’s shoulder.

“Hey.” You gave him a tinkly little wave, and watched him stiffen.

“[name],” he said curtly. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” He held his hand out to Jinx, who looked at you, before getting off the barstool to go up to him. She placed the bomb in his outstretched hand. He turned it over.

“What’s this?”

“A bomb.” Her voice was eager.

“Does it work?”

She took it back and held it close to her chest. “I haven’t tested it yet.” 

“You go do that,” he said smoothly, ruffling her hair. She gave you a wonky smile as she skipped out of the room. You smiled back, leaning on your elbow.

Silco scowled, stepping towards you. He placed his hand on the bar top. Chuck had conveniently disappeared into the back. You turned your face away, raising your drink to your lips and casually looking everywhere but at Silco.

“What do you want?” He snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut like a knife. You set the drink down with a deliberate clink, sighing.

“You said we needed to discuss whatever I did with Finn,” you reminded him coldly. “And I want a favour.”

“I believe you owe me two,” he replied curtly. You stiffened, then grinned, chewing your lip as you traced the rim of your glass.

“One.” Your voice was low. “Don’t push it.”

He tilted his head, crossing his arms. His usually pushed back hair had fallen out of place again. “One, then. Fine. Well, what did you want?”

You smirked and slowly drew something out of your pocket. You held it out to him, tapping it against his chest. Gold letters glittered in the bar’s dim lights. His expression darkened immediately, displeasure radiating from him like heat.

“Where did you get this?”

“I have my ways,” you said smoothly, stealing Donna’s words with a wry smirk. His brow furrowed, crease between his eyebrows deepening as he frowned, looking in between the invite, then at you, eyes flickering with suspicion. After a few moments he flicked his head at the door.

“Let’s talk.”

You swiped your drink off of the counter and slipped off of your barstool to follow him past the door, up the stairs and into his office. The door shut as you turned on the spot, looking at the now-familiar space. He went to his desk, tossing the invitation on the wooden surface and looking at you. 

“So what exactly are you doing with this invitation?”

“I’m going to go.” It wasn’t a request, just a simple statement. He sat down in his chair, turning around so he wasn’t facing you. You could make out the shadowed silhouette of his side profile as he lit a cigar. 

He flicked his head at you. “Then go.”

You slowly stepped around his desk, then pushed yourself up so you were sitting on top of it. The sharp edge of your heel dug into the wood as you spun his chair around, forcing him to face you. 

You held out your hand, and he scowled, jaw tightening, before stiffly placing the hand cigar in it. “One small problem,” you began, before taking a slow drag, sighing it out. “I don’t have an invite.”

He leaned over and past you to tap the piece of paper, then looked back at you to raise an eyebrow. You shook your head, pointedly stabbing the cigar at him. “No. It won’t work. He never sent me one personally.” You sucked the smoke in through your teeth, then leaned in, exhaling. Smoke billowed in his face, and he narrowed his eyes, looking away. “But I bet you have one. And I also bet you don’t plan on going.”

His hand shot out, snatching the cigar from you, his movements sharp and irritable. He turned away to take a drag. You leaned forward, craning your neck to try and get him to look at you. 

“Send me on your behalf.” Your voice softened into something smooth, gentle, almost coaxing. 

His eyes flicked to yours, narrowing with suspicion. “And then what? You kill him?”

Your temper snapped. “I won’t kill him,” you hissed, and grabbed his jaw, wrenching his face back to look at yours. Your fingers pressed hard against his skin and he gritted his teeth, eyes widening in shock for a moment before relaxing again. 

“But I need a fucking valid reason to go.” Your voice dropped into a low, dangerous whisper.

“Why should I do anything for you?” He sneered, lips twitching into a ghost of a sardonic smirk. You cocked your head to the side, drumming your fingers on the top of his chair, arm pressed upwards against the side as you leaned in. You stared at him for a moment, then leaned back, letting go of the chair.

“Then Finn dies, and you lose that little piece of power you have over Zaun that he gives you,” you grinned, picking up your glass that you’d set on his disk. You swirled the liquid inside around, ice clinking softly then raised it at him in a sarcastic toast, nodding smugly before taking a sip. His eyes never left yours, gaze burning feverishly.

“Fine,” he spat, the word filled with venom. “Take my invite, go on my behalf. But you’re going to fill me in on everything you plan on doing.”

“I want to cash in one of my five favours from Sevika as well,” you added casually. He groaned, running his hand through his already disheveled hair. After a moment he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Be my guest. But take it up with her, not me.”

You stayed silent for a few moments, the rim of your glass pressed against your lips. You straightened up, taking a breath. 

“How was Jinx?” You asked, your tone deceptively casual.

He looked up at you from behind his hand, due to his fingers being pressed against his temple, elbow balanced on his armrest. “She was fine.” His voice was hard. 

You planted your feet on the edge of his seat and used your legs to swing him around to face you fully. He let out a small, frustrated growl as you leaned in, your gaze sharp and unrelenting. 

“Any effects of the sleep drug?” You inquired, eyes gleaming. A muscle in his face twitched, and he shook his head. You nodded slowly. 

“She has no idea what I did.” Your voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, reaching for his cigar. “Why’s that?”

He ignored your second question, letting you prise the cigar from his fingers, watching you inhale from it. “Let’s keep it that way.” He paused, gaze flickering with something unreadable. “She seems to like you.”

You threw your head back and laughed, the sound sharp and grating. “Who doesn’t?”

He gestured lazily to himself. You grinned again, mirthlessly this time and hopping off of his desk, tipping the glass towards him in a final mock salute. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” he muttered, before giving you a smirk and tipping his head to the door. 

You scowled as you walked out the doorway.

You groaned, turning over in bed. Hands were shaking you, willing you to get up. You did, scowling blearily at Donna’s determined face. 

“It’s six in the morning,” you complained as she clattered about, picking up discarded clothes, pieces of jewellery and cosmetics, books, pens, and pretty much anything you owned that was strewn around the room.

“You need to pull yourself together again.” She swiped a small tub full of pills that was on your vanity. “You can’t drug yourself into oblivion and live life like you’re barely hanging on.”

“It’s my coping mechanism,” you said bitterly as she began arranging the copious amount of drugs on the surface of your dresser. She sighed loudly. 

“You can’t just throw around one term you learned in a badly lit therapist’s office,” Donna said. 

“I don’t go to therapy,” you retorted. She snorted derisively. 

“Maybe you should start.”

You groaned and buried your head back in the pillow.

She stalked over to you, tearing the covers off. You rolled over and glared at her. “I’m your boss. I could have you skinned alive for this.”

“But you won’t.” 

You sat up, swinging your feet over the edge of the bed. They sank into the plush carpet as you stood up, the muscles in your legs aching. Donna thrust some clothes at you, before leaving the room. 

-

“Here’s the plan.” 

You paced the room, hands massaging your temples as Donna sat to attention on the couch. 

“We go to Finn’s party. I’m the woman running a tiny crime business, humble and pathetic, blah blah blah.” You paused, frowning, before whirling to look at Donna. “Silco sent me on his behalf.”

“Why would Silco send someone humble and pathetic on his behalf?” Donna pointed out. You ignored her, the movements you made with your hands growing more and more animated. 

“Oh my goodness, Finn! You’re so impressive!” You mocked in a high pitched tone. “Feed his ego. Grow closer and closer over the night.” You paused and smirked. 

Donna nodded again, an encouragement to continue.

“And then I’ll poison him, or something.” You shrugged. “Haven’t worked out all the kinks yet.”

Donna sat up straighter, frowning. “Have you told Silco you’re doing this?”

“I’ve told him I’m going to the party.”

She shook her head, scoffing. “You know what I mean,” she said, tone accusing as she jabbed a finger at you. “He said you weren’t allowed to kill Finn.”

You stared at her flatly, and she squared her shoulders, standing up straight as she continued, slightly unnerved by your blank gaze. “You can’t do just whatever you want, [name]. There are consequences.”

The silence ticked by. She shuffled nervously, watching your expression darken. 

And then something inside you snapped.

You charged towards her, grip vice-like as you seized her wrists and yanked her down, forcing her to stumble and crash back onto the couch. She let out a sharp gasp as you drove her back against the velvet, clutching her shoulders with bruising force.

You thrust your face into hers, eyes glittering as your lips pulled back in a snarl. “You’ve been pushing my boundaries for a while now,” you hissed, shaking her lightly. A small, involuntary whimper escaped her as you dug your sharp nails into her skin. You tilted your head, eyes piercing through her face. “Thinking you’re entitled to advise me, to tell me what to do. But see- here’s the thing-“ you raised a sharp, metal-tipped finger, tapping against the top of her cheekbone, “I’m still in charge.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she choked out. You scowled darkly, shushing her with a finger to your lips. 

“I’m speaking. Now. I want you to understand that I don’t appreciate it when you undermine or question my authority.” You smiled at her coldly. She nodded quickly. “I’ll do what I want with Finn and the party. Silco can go fuck himself, and if you have anything to say about it then you can too.” You paused, then raised an eyebrow. “Understood?”

Donna nodded again. “I understand, [name],” she gasped.

“It’s Madam to you.”

“I understand, Madam.”

You gave her a satisfactory smile, and released her, stepping back. She inhaled deeply, doubling over and rubbing her sore shoulder. You dusted your hands off.

“Well, it’s decided. Go research and bring me a slow-acting poison, preferably a powder. I want it before the week of the party. Understood?”

She nodded, eyes sullenly stuck to the floor. 

“Yes, Madam.”

You grinned, turning away to pull out a cigarette. “Thank you.”

-

The lights of the Last Drop flashed, switching between colours as you pushed through the crowd to find Vander, who was, predictably, bartending. You waved at him, and he grinned, walking towards you.

“If it isn’t Silco’s little lady friend.” His voice was teasing. You rolled your eyes and flicked a coin at him.

“Tonic.”

He laughed as he left to make your drink, and you turned over, leaning back with your elbows on the wood and surveying the Last Drop. It was Saturday night, and the rowdiness was proof enough.

A drink was placed next to you on the counter with a deliberate thump, a bit of liquid sloshing over the rim. “Your tonic, My Lady.”

You flashed Vander a smile before picking it up, raising it to your mouth. You took a drink, smacking your lips. “How’s Alice?”

“Downstairs with Vi and Powder. Proving to be quite the babysitter.”

At this you laughed fondly, swirling around the tonic in your glass. Your eyes swept across the crowd, eventually settling on two people in a booth in the corner.

You sauntered towards them, setting your drink down onto their table before flashing them a lazy smile. “Mind if I join you?”

Silco looked up from his drink, something unreadable flitting over his face as he smiled and nodded, gesturing to the seat opposite him. Your eyes caught Sevika’s as you slid into the booth. 

“So you’re [name].” She set her drink down with a heavy thump onto the table. You quirked an eyebrow, tilting your head. Your eyes flicked to Silco.

“Don’t tell me I’m a hot topic for discussion,” you said playfully. Sevika scoffed, a small smirk playing on her lips as she took a swig of her drink. You leaned forward, elbows pressed against the tabletop. “So. What were you doing?”

“Just talking,” Silco muttered. His usually pale face was uncharacteristically flushed. You thought he must have been drunk but his drink was untouched. 

“About what?”

Silco looked away quickly again, and Sevika laughed, before pulling out a pack of cards. “Wanna play?” She offered. You frowned.

“I only play Un.”

She shrugged, frowning slightly and tilting her head as she looked at you. “Suit yourself. You got a deck on you?”

You leaned across the table to Silco. “Do you have one? In your bag?”

He leaned back as you practically thrust your face towards his, noses inches apart. He looked around, fumbling with his satchel. “I, uh…”

You snatched the strap of his bag and dragged across the table, rummaging around inside. You pulled your hand out, unfurling your palm. There was a crumpled, but once smoothly folded piece of paper on it. On the front it read: ‘From Silco.’

“What’s this?” You asked curiously, going to unfold it. 

Silco hurriedly leaned over and tore it from your hands, crumpling it up even more and shoving it into his pocket. “Nothing.”

You frowned, miffed, as you spread your hands in a silent gesture: ‘What the fuck?’ But he simply ignored you, taking a quick sip of his drink. Your frown deepened at his lack of response and you scoffed, shaking your head lightly before jamming your hand back into his satchel, finally emerging this time with the pack of Un cards.

You pulled out the stack, eyes flicking up to him. “Wanna play?” You inquired. He cleared his throat, wiped his mouth, then stood up abruptly.

“No, I, er, I don’t think I will. You two have fun though.” He nodded at you both curtly before swiping his drink up and disappearing into the crowd.

You stared after him, feeling slightly hurt. You swallowed, throat dry, before turning to shuffle the cards. After a few clumsy minutes of crude shuffling, Sevika sighed, taking them from your hands.

“So. How’d you meet Silco?” She asked, the cards deftly flicking through her fingers. You watched, enraptured.

“I almost dropped a tile on his head, then took his cigarette.”

“Like… you just… took it?”

“Yeah.”

She flicked the cards across the table, distributing them evenly. You watched your cards pile up in the same spot. She clicked her tongue. “That’s rough.”

You frowned. “Rough?” You demanded, demeanour suddenly changed. “Why?”

She laughed at your instant reaction. “Calm down princess. I didn’t really mean it. It’s just hilarious.” She flicked her head at something behind you, grinning. “He doesn’t take a lot of shit. Watching him or hearing about him putting up with your antics is… refreshing.”

You furrowed your brow, twisting your neck around to look at where she was staring. It was Silco and Felicia at the bar, an easy conversation flowing between them. Silco caught your eye, and you gave him a strained smile. He looked away quickly, and your face fell.

What’s up with him?

You turned back to Sevika. “Well, uh. That’s great.” You sounded distracted, eyes darting around the table. You’d only played two cards before you tossed your hand down onto the table, standing up.

Sevika’s eyes followed you as you did so. “Where’re you going?” She demanded. “We’ve barely played.”

“I-“ You scrunched your face up, shaking your head a little. It was throbbing. “I just need to go… talk to someone.”

Her brow shot upwards. “Trouble in paradise?”

“No idea what that’s supposed to mean,” you snapped as you left the booth, drink forgotten. 

Approaching the bar, you tapped Silco’s shoulder. His and Felicia’s conversation cut off, and the woman looked at you concernedly. 

“Oh, hey [name]. You okay?”

“I’m fine. You don’t mind if I steal Silco away for a few minutes, do you?” You pointedly avoided his stare, eyes fixated on Felicia. “I need to speak with him.”

She chuckled, shrugging. “He’s all yours.”

You glanced at him and flicked your head at the door. His brow furrowed as he slid off of the barstool, shooting Felicia one last glance before following you out of the Last Drop.

The night air outside was surprisingly crisp, especially for the undercity. You pulled out a cigarette, which dangled between your lips as you flicked open your lighter, shielding the flame from the cold as you turned away from Silco to light it. The silence was palpable as you felt his presence behind you.

You snapped your lighter shut and whirled around, a trail of smoke following the glowing embers on the end of the cigarette. You took a drag, breathed it out, then pulled it from your mouth and offered it to him.

He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck and turning away. You frowned, flicking the lighter shut with a sharp snap. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Your voice was strained as you fought to keep it level. 

Silco blanched. “What?”

You smacked his chest. He stumbled back a little- not on impact, but out of surprise. “You’ve been weird all evening. Avoiding me.” Your voice cracked a little. 

God, I probably sound so needy right now. It’s probably nothing.

“Did I do something?” You were stammering, trying to get the words out. “And what- what was that- the paper, I- I didn’t mean to go through your stuff or anything, if that’s what annoyed you-“

He raised his hands. “[name], no- I- it’s not you.” He sighed, lowering his hands downwards, instead reaching for your waist as you dragged you in. You tensed in surprise at the sudden distance he’d closed between you, dropping the cigarette. It fizzled out on the stones.

“I’ve just been out of it all evening.” His voice was soft, placating. You shook your head, looking away, but he tipped your chin back towards him. “It’s not you. Really.”

“Okay,” you muttered. His breath was warm on your lips. 

You tilted your face up, eyelids lowering in anticipation.

He leaned in.

Then buried his face in your shoulder.

You tensed again. Your lips felt cold, and a bitter sort of disappointment surged through you. You circled your arms around him, palms flat on his back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he muttered. A few moments of silence ticked by. “I’m an idiot.”

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder. “Okay. Why?”

“There’s things I want to say and I… can’t say them.”

You bit your lip. “Why not?”

“Because I’m an idiot,” he repeated cryptically. He straightened up- much to your regret, and dusted himself off. “It’s cold out here. Let’s go back inside.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, when he took your wrist and smiled. You cracked a smile back.

“Can you just… forget about it?” He whispered. “It’s… I’m… it won’t affect anything anymore.”

You nodded and fondly brushed a strand of hair off of his cheek.

“Of course.” 

You weren’t surprised to see Sevika burst into your office through the front door, eyes blazing. You crossed your arms and Donna looked up, peeking through her fingers, thanks to her hands being on her face.

The interruption was welcome after the awkward silence you two had been sitting in, you reading your shitty book and Donna fidgeting with a knife. The guilt of giving out to her had slowly been creeping up on you, intensifying, and you needed a distraction, even if said distraction was standing in your doorway with a murderous look on her face. You stood up.

“[name],” she said darkly, stomping towards you. “We need to talk.”

“I was waiting for you.” You turned around, brushing your hand across a shelf which held a few tinted glass sculptures. You carefully picked up a sparkling swan, before turning around, your lazy gaze sweeping across her face. “I was hoping to discuss the favour I’ll be cashing in.”

“Fuck the favour.” She stormed towards you and grabbed your wrist, yanking forward. You yelped and stumbled, eyes widening as you dropped the swan in shock. It fell onto the floor, the soft carpet cushioning its fall as it rolled, stopping at Donna’s foot. You looked at the swan, then stared at her.

“You’re lucky that it didn't break. That swan is my favourite.”

Her grip on your wrist tightened with bruising force, and she shook you a little. “Tell me why the fuck,” she snarled, “You’re planning on poisoning a chem-baron?”

You slowly turned your head towards Donna, an empty, blank expression on your face. She shrunk in on herself, trembling. “[name], I can explain-“

“Get out.” Your voice was a dangerous whisper.

She scrambled to her feet and did so immediately, knife still clutched in her hand, the beads clinking as the curtain swayed in her wake. Your eyes flicked sharply back to Sevika, who faltered a little at the look in them. You raised your hand to Sevika’s, where she was clutching your wrist, and slowly and deliberately prised her fingers off of you. They slipped away from your reddened skin and back to her side as you stepped forward, raising your chin, while she stepped back.

“So you’ve been bewitching my employees, have you?”

“Don’t blame Donna,” she snapped, squaring her shoulders despite the subtle tremor in her voice. You laughed quietly and dryly, shaking your  head as you crossed your arms.

“I don’t.” You lifted a metal-tipped finger, the sharp gold glinting in the rose light as you turned it over, inspecting it. “I’m just wondering how you think you have the right to meddle in my affairs.”

“I’m not-“ she cut herself off with a grunt, frustrated. “Look, [name], you and Silco agreed you wouldn’t kill Finn.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t hurt him.” Your voice was cold and sharp like a blade, threatening as you didn’t look up at her. Sevika pressed her lips together, chewing at them. 

“[name], he cannot die.”

You lashed out with your hand. 

Sevika’s head snapped back, hand flying to press against the three gashes you’d made in her cheek. Blood seeped through her fingers and dripped down your nails. Your head twitched, flicking to the side as you tried to calm down,  advancing towards her. Blood was pounding in your ears. She stared at you, unmoving.

“Poisoning him,” you breathed, “Doesn’t mean killing him.” You raised your eyes to hers, and she made note of the shadows beneath him.

She stepped back, and you whipped your body around to briskly pace towards the shelf. You opened a drawer at the bottom, snatching up a first aid kit. You jerked your head to the sofa. She stared at your trembling, twitching body, then complied, a strange sort of patience settling over her.

You grabbed a cotton pad and sprinkled some disinfectant on it, reaching for her face. Your hands were trembling as you worked. She stared at your shrunk pupils, your shaking eyes.

She grabbed your wrist, more gently this time, and moved it down, away from her face. “[name].” The look on her face was no longer angry, but it wasn’t kind either. But it was definitely kinder than she usually allowed herself to be. She looked at you, unspoken words registering in your head: Are you okay?

You began to tear up.

She watched quietly as you looked away, clamping your hand over your mouth to stifle your sobs, eyes turning bloodshot as tears threatened to fall. She patted the seat next to her and you sat down, putting your head in your hands. She reached out awkwardly, and after much hesitation, placed her hand on your back.

“I’m sorry about your daughter.”

At this, you burst into tears.

She didn’t dare hug you, instead stiffly rubbing your back as you sniffled, wiping at the hot tears streaming down your face. Your shoulders racked with sobs, you ran your hand through your mussed hair. 

“Donna told me,” she muttered quietly. “That you didn’t give yourself any time to grieve.” You looked at her, face contorted, eyes burning. “That you were just drugging yourself out of your own mind and ignoring what was happening around you.”

You gulped down another bout of tears and looked away, hair falling in front of your face. “She took my sedatives,” you choked out. “I keep lashing out.” You drew a shaking hand across your eyes again, as more tears slipped out. “I almost hurt her and I hurt you too.”

“Nothing new with me,” she offered as consolation, but it just made you cry more.

“I know. But I didn’t mean to this time.” You bit your lip, smothering a whimper of despair as you hunched over, avoiding her watchful gaze. “I can’t-“ you gasped to get the words out. “I feel everything now. The drugs made it easier.”

“It wasn’t healthy. You were taking too much.”

“How would you know?” Your voice was heavy and bitter.

“She told me, and I trust her judgement. You should trust it too.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at her.” 

Sevika shut her eyes. “She understands, [name]. You need to take some proper time to sit down and come to terms with what you’re feeling, and deal with it properly.”

You cracked a wry, weak smile, looking at her. “Since when were you so wise?”

She scoffed. “I’m just repeating what Donna said. I don’t know jack shit about this stuff.” At this, you looked down and nodded, subdued.

“She told me that the Haven needed me, so I-“ your voice cracked, and Sevika sighed.

“That means take some action, not bottle up everything you’re feeling and live life on autopilot.” Once she’d decided that the worst of your emotions had passed she took her hand away from your back and stood up, dusting yourself off. “I know I probably shouldn’t bring this up straight after… all that, but Silco wants to talk to you.”

You sighed and hung your head despondently, before raising it to meet her gaze. You stood up, pulling your shoulders back and smoothing down your hair.

“Haven’t we talked enough?” You sounded unimpressed.

“I know you said you won’t kill Finn, but me relaying it back to him won’t convince him.” She adjusted her cloak, and you sighed, rubbing your hands across your face. Mascara smeared beneath your fingers and across your cheek. 

“Of course,” you muttered. She watched you expectantly, and you turned around.

“Well, let’s go.”

She paused. “Now?”

“I don’t have anything better to do right now. Just let me fix myself up and get my coat.”

It didn’t take long before you were ready. You stepped out through the beaded curtain after Sevika, who went straight for the door, going to wait outside. You turned to Donna, who was leaning against the wall, avoiding your gaze.

A ghost of a smile flitted across your tired face for a moment. “Eavesdropping, were you?”

She pursed her lips, before licking them nervously. “I was just waiting.”

You grinned weakly and held out your hand. She stepped forward, placing the knife in it, and your fingers closed around the weapon firmly.

“Thanks,” you muttered. “And… I’m sorry.”

She laughed. “You need to get diagnosed for something, seriously.”

“Just… give me my hypnotics back, and it’s all good.”

She smiled tiredly. “Not too many in one day, okay?”

You nodded wordlessly, stepping outside after Sevika.

-

Silco’s office was, once again, in its usual dimly lit air of misery. Silco was in his chair, once again not directly facing you, flicking his lighter. Open, shut, open, shut. You scowled at the sound.

“You wanted to see me?” Your voice was hard. He spun around to face you fully, fingertips ghosting over the surface of his desk as he scowled, an expression to match yours. 

“Tell me why Sevika tells me you’re planning to poison Finn?”

You shrugged, walking towards him, each footstep slow and deliberate. Brushing your fingertips along the side of his desk, before stepping around and pushing yourself up smoothly to sit on it, you tilted your head.

“Probably because I am.”

Something stabbed into the wood next to your hand. A knife. Silco’s hand was on the handle, gripping so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

He pushed himself up, leaning over you. You tilted your head up to keep track of his eyes, which were simmering with anger.

“I thought I told you you couldn’t kill him.”

“I won’t,” you replied simply. Without breaking his gaze your own hand found his, prising his fingers off of the knife handle. The touch was burning feverishly. You pulled the blade from the wood and placed it flat against his chest. “Refrain from threatening me, will you?”

He scoffed, taking the knife and tossing it onto the floor like an afterthought. The clatter of metal echoed emptily through the room. “How do I know what you will or won’t do?” 

You shrugged again. “Sevika will be there.”

“You still haven’t elaborated on your use for her.”

“If I recall, you were the one who told me that it was between me and her.”

“Now that I know you’re about to harm someone I need, things have changed.”

You scowled, fixing your eyes onto his, narrowing them to rival the heat in his glare. His shoulders stiffened, unnerved by your confidence. Then you sighed, tipping your head back. You could feel his breath on your throat.

“I won’t kill him,” you repeated. Silco’s hand twitched as he resisted the urge to reach out and throttle you. You noticed, eyebrow quirking as you looked back at him and smirked. “I just plan on humiliating him. Severely.”

“I want your exact plan,” he growled, and you pouted, shaking your head and wagging your finger.

“I don’t think that’s quite possible.”

“Why not?”

You leaned in even closer, your skin just barely brushing his. He instinctively moved back a little, but you only moved forward, a slow grin curling across your face. “Because,” you purred, eyes lighting up, “It’s a surprise.”

Silco slammed his palms on the table behind you, and you flinched.

Pulling away, he ran a hand through his hair, turning back away from you. “Well then in that case, I’ll have to revoke your invitation.”

You stared at him, eyes widening, before your face fell into a look of fury. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have indulged you.” He turned to glance at you, a dismissive look filled with disdain. It made your head throb. A muscle in your face twitched and you clenched your fists. “The only reason I did is because…” he trailed off, pausing. You looked up, raising a brow.

“Because you felt bad for me? Or because you were scared for Jinx?” Your voice was husky, dry. “Or was it both?”

He flicked his head, a subtle movement that substituted for a verbal response. You laughed harshly. “You’re scared of me, aren’t you?” You hissed, stepping towards him, eyes narrowing. He planted his feet firmly, standing his ground. You spread your hands. “I’m unpredictable, and that terrifies you.”

“You’re perfectly predictable,” he said flatly. You shook your head, grinning mirthlessly. 

“You thought I was going to shoot her.”

“I knew you wouldn’t shoot a child.”

“You didn’t know I would kidnap and drug one,” you pointed out. At the murderous look on his face you chuckled, lowering your eyes. “And you thought you owed it to me, to let me have my way, after everything you did.”

“Your daughters’ deaths were never my responsibility,” he growled.

“They were born out of your negligence. You can say everything you want, but I know what you’re really thinking.” Your eyes pierced through him. “You think I’m pathetic, washed up, ruined.” Each word you spat out dripped with venom. “And you blame yourself for it.”

His scowl sharpened as he agitatedly flexed his fingers. “I won’t enable you any longer. The deal is off. Get out.”

You stared at him, breathing picking up. The edges of your vision darkened. You squeezed your eyes, shut, taking a deep breath. Opening them again, everything had become clear.

You turned on your heel and silently walked out of the room, door slamming shut behind you.

-

Back in your office, you screamed.

Donna burst in, a clear expression of panic and concern on her face. You straightened up, clearing your throat and dusted your clothes off before offering her a quick glance. “Oh. Hello.”

She paced towards you, offering you a tub of pills. “Your hypnotics.” You took the tub, setting it down on the low table. She watched you anxiously. 

“Why did… why did you scream?”

“Cigarette.”

She handed you a cigarette and flicked open a lighter. You placed it to your lips, gesturing with your hands and leaning forward. The flame burned beneath the end, and once it was lit you pulled away. She snapped the lighter shut, watching you take a deep drag and then sigh it out, smoke curling through the air.

“Silco’s taken away my invite.”

She rubbed her eyes. “What?”

You sighed. “I should have been more careful.” You turned away, taking another drag to soothe your head while she crossed her arms, scoffing. “Shouldn’t have ticked him off.”

“So… what are we going to do now?”

You snapped your fingers. “This isn’t the end. We’ll use the invite we have- or, better yet, get one ourselves personally.” You turned to her and smirked, and she raised her eyebrows.

“You mean… finding Finn himself?”

“Precisely.” You took another drag.

She nodded slowly, mulling it over. “But… how?”

“We could try ordering a meeting with him,” you frowned. “Or finding him somewhere and striking up a conversation.” You looked up at her. “Are there any places he frequents?”

“I’ll ask everyone in the Haven,” she said quickly. You nodded gratefully, turning away to take another deep breath of smoke before she ran out the office, charging up the stairs. 

This would not be the end.

-

The doorbell tinkled as someone entered Hilda’s shop. You looked up from the stack of books you were arranging behind the counter, and leaned forward, placing your palms flat on the wooden surface, craning your neck to get a glimpse of the customer behind all of the shelves and stacks of items.

“Hey! Welcome to Hilda’s Trove-“

“[name].” Silco stepped into view, tilting his head slightly to give you a grin. Your eyes widened for a split second before you returned the look, turning away to resume arranging the shelves. You picked up a small glass sculpture of a snake, and some parchment with a string.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you murmured, setting the three items down on the counter and setting to wrapping up the serpent. He leaned forward, urging you to look at him, and you did, a small look of amusement seeping onto your features.

“I was bored.”

You chuckled. “Don’t you have a job?”

“I just got back, if you used your eyes.”

Your eyes flicked up to his face. There was a dusting of soot on his cheek, and forearms too. They travelled downwards. He was clutching his miner’s hat under his arm.

Now that you thought about it, you would be getting off of work soon too. “So, what exactly are you doing?” He looked down at your hands, which were moving skilfully, wrapping the string around the now-smothered glass sculpture.

“Wrapping orders,” you said distractedly. The door at the back opened and you both looked up to see Hilda step in. She flicked her blonde hair, looking at both of you. Her eyes slid to yours and she smirked.

“Heyyy,” she sang, sashaying over to where you stood. You frowned and crossed your arms as she slung hers around your shoulders. “Who’s this?”

You flicked your head at Silco, who was awkwardly fiddling with his hat. “This is Silco. He’s my- my friend.”

“Silco!” She gasped, reaching out over the counter to shake his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Was wondering when I’d actually get to meet you.” She winked, putting her hand on her hip, and your frown deepened. You shrugged her arm off of your shoulders and tied the final knot on the sculpture, face tinged with pink, before placing it in a little crate on the counter, amongst other similarly-wrapped items. 

“Don’t you have to take inventory?” You asked, miffed, and she gave you a knowing smirk which you ignored. 

“Just finished, actually. I’m leaving for the night. You’ll lock up, won’t you? Got the keys?”

“Yeah whatever.” You shooed her away. She scoffed, tossing her hair again flippantly as she strutted out of the shop with her bag and coat. Silco gave her a little wave as she did. You let out a small huff, picking up the crate.

“Where are you going?”

“To put this in the back. I’ll be back in five.”

True to your word, you were back at the counter within minutes. You picked up your jacket. “So, why’d you swing by?”

He was looking around, surveying the shelves with unconcealed curiosity. “No reason. I knew you were getting off soon so I decided we should go to the Last Drop together.” You were back behind the counter, kneeling down to lock the cabinets.

“How considerate,” you drawled, straightening back up. You flinched at the sudden proximity of your faces, but didn’t move back. “So… we should go.”

“Of course.” His eyes flicked down to your lips for a split-second. 

You swallowed dryly. “Silco.”

He hummed, as you leaned slightly closer, bracing your palms on the counter for support. He didn’t move away as you did. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I…” you trailed off, his breath warm on your lips. Your eyes flicked down to his. You let out a quick sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s-“ his hand snaked around to rest at your nape, fingers curling on your hair. You tensed.

And then his lips pressed against yours.

You let out a small noise of surprise, but melted into the touch, kissing him back. Your hand found itself at his collar, tugging him closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. You pulled away, your nose brushing his, your breathing quick and shallow. You gulped again, and a wry smirk twisted across his lips.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered. “I shouldn’t have-“

“It’s…” he leaned back in. “It’s fine.”

Your eyes fluttered shut for the second kiss, slipping your arms around his neck. Your hands found themselves in his loose black hair, tugging softly. He groaned, and the sound made your already pounding heart skip a beat. 

The sound of fingers snapping in front of your face snapped you back to reality. 

You blinked, looking around the darkening room. Silco looked at you, concerned. “[name]? Are you alright?”

You blinked again, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah, uh… I’m fine.” You blinked again, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah, uh… I’m fine.” You stared at him, torn between making your daydream of kissing him becoming a reality, or simply ignoring it and carrying on. You hesitated, but just as you were about to lean in, he turned away, idly adjusting his jacket, unaware of your predicament. You faltered, then fell back.

You shrugged on your jacket, which was dumped onto the counter, and picked up the keys. You could feel his eyes following you as you went to the door. “Sorry, I just… zoned out. Daydreaming.” You shrugged nervously, opening the door. He stepped out after you.

“About having a cigarette, I bet,” he teased as you locked the door. You looked up at him and flashed a smirk. 

“You caught me. Got a smoke?”

“None of your own, as expected.” He pulled out a cigarette as you both began walking down the street. You shrugged.

“I ran out this morning. Hilda doesn’t let me smoke on the job, can you believe that? It’s a travesty.”

“How tragic. Although, she might just be saving your life.”

“You enable me, rat man. Don’t act so high and mighty.”

He chuckled and placed the cigarette in between his teeth. You pulled out your lighter, snapping it open. The flame flickered in the low light of dusk as it encased the cigarette in a weak flame.  

A thin trail of smoke emanating from the end of the cigarette as you snapped the lighter shut, he snickered. “Right, whatever.” You shook your head and scoffed, laughing, no more words left to say.

The sound of your heels clicking on the pavement echoed on the empty street as you made your way to the Last Drop, Donna’s voice still ringing in your ears.

‘A group of guys said they see him at the Last Drop sometimes. Figures, considering the fact it’s his boss’ establishment and all. Saturday nights. You sure you want to go alone?’

‘I’ll be fine. Just have a guy parked out when I leave. I’ll walk there.’

The Last Drop was all lit up, the sound of the bustling crowd seeping beneath the crack in the front door. You pushed it open, looking around.

‘You’ll know him when you see him. He’s pretty young, slitted eyes. A cyborg. Tagged up. Wears yellow, real fucking flashy.’

The sound of your heels clicking, which had just been echoing in your ears prior, was now drowned out by the bass of the music as you manoeuvred yourself elegantly through the crowd, eyes scanning each face meticulously. 

‘How do we know he’ll be there for sure?’

Your eyes settled on a figure at the bar, fiddling with something that flashed gold in his hands. Your gaze travelled down to inspect the gold he was absolutely decked out in, the tattoos on his chest. You began advancing towards him. 

‘Just pray to Janna you’ll get lucky.’

“Hey.”

He looked up at you as you walked up to stand right next to him at the bar. You didn’t spare him a glance, instead waving your hand at the bartender and ordering yourself a drink.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Hello.”

You flashed him a grin and nodded at the bartender. “You ordering?”

He chuckled, straightening up a little as he gave the bartender his order. As soon as he finished, you jumped in: 

“I’ll pay.”

He frowned at you suspiciously as you slid onto the barstool, pulling out a cigarette. You began searching for the lighter, but he held out his own. Gold, with the letter ‘F’ engraved on it.

This is definitely him. 

You held out the cigarette, watching it light up. The lighter snapped shut and he drew his hand back. You took a drag, eyes glittering in the bar’s lights as he watched you. After a few moments of silence, he spoke. 

“You know, I appreciate the attention, and you’re good looking, but I think I’m a bit too young for you.” He smirked as he watched you held the cigarette to your lips.

You exhaled, smoke curling in the already thick air. “You’re not into older women, then?”

Your drinks clinked onto the bar counter in front of you. He chuckled again, reaching for his. “Unfortunately.”

You laughed quietly, mimicking his body language. You traced a sharply manicured finger along the rim of your glass, before dragging it to you across the counter. You took a careful sip, eyes never leaving his. 

“In that case, it’s a good thing I haven’t come here to take you home.” You set your glass down with a deliberate clink. “I’m sure you must be disappointed.”

“Very.”

“However- I couldn’t help but notice you across the room.” You gave him a languid smile, tilting your head. “Your appearance makes quite the statement. You’re the leader of the Slickjaws, aren’t you?”

He raised his eyebrows, tilting his head thoughtfully as he took a sip. “You’ve caught me.”

You laughed and leaned an elbow against the wooden surface, balancing your cheek on your palm. “You know, you’re quite impressive.” You paused to think of an elaboration. “You’re so young, but you’ve already built quite the name for yourself.”

“Have you come here to flatter me?” He joked, swirling around the burning liquid in his glass. Your grin widened into something cheshire. 

“Partially. Although- it’s not quite flattery if it’s the truth, is it?”

He laughed as you took another drag. “You’re good at it, I’ll give you that.” His eyes slid back to your face. “So. What exactly is it that you want from me?”

You scoffed, putting a hand on your chest in mock outrage. “Want from you? All I simply wanted was to make a connection.” You took a sip of your drink, then stubbed the cigarette out on the bar. It left a dark mark on the wood. 

“Are you sure the owner of the bar would appreciate that?” His eyes were on the cigarette fizzling out on the counter. You laughed and shrugged.

“It’s fine. I know him personally.”

At this, his brow shot up, but he didn’t say anything as you leaned forward, continuing your previous point.

“You see, in all my years I’ve never bothered to make connections. I have so many people under my wing, but not many to call an ally.” You tipped your glass towards him in a mock salute. “But you, on the other hand, have already been made a first-generation chem-baron.” You took a sip. “It’s admirable.”

He chuckled. “Thanks. Not many people see the effort that goes into our line of work.” He raised his catlike eyes to meet yours. “It seems you and I are the same.”

You grinned, satisfied at where the conversation was going, and raised your glass again. “A toast then. To allies.”

“To allies.”

The glasses clinked together. You both took a sip in unison. The drink burned the tip of your tongue and the back of your throat. Finn looked at you, impressed. “So, what exactly do you do?”

“I run the Haven,” you said calmly. A small look of surprise flickered across his face.

“Talk about no connections, then. It seems you weren’t exaggerating.” You smiled and tilted your head again expectantly, waiting for an explanation. “I’ve heard quite a lot about your activities, but never heard of any sort of… interaction. Minus a small conflict recently.”

Small? Your eye twitched but you brushed it off, quickly putting on your charming smile again. “You now know what I mean.”

“But you know Silco,” he pointed out. You shrugged.

“Not in any way that’s important.”

“You fought over the same factory, but suddenly he’ll excuse you for vandalism?”

You laughed, reaching out for a friendly brush to his shoulder. The action made him tense, then relaxed as he took in your easygoing demeanour. “Like you said. A minor conflict. We’re both over it.”

He nodded slowly. “Well, I hope you’ll excuse me too. I was involved with the skirmish.” You nodded slowly, taking a sip. “Although it’s a shame you ended up winning control of the property anyways.” He chuckled. “Congrats.”

You froze. Wait, what? “O-oh, er, yes.”

“I was pretty surprised when Silco decided he would be handing it over to you, however- I do fully trust his judgement. It’s clear he knows how to run things around here.” His eyes flicked to yours, gauging your reaction.

Your face lit up. “Of course. It was a… private matter, in which we did decide I would be taking control of the factory.” You squared your shoulders and tilted your chin up a bit, gathering yourself and exuding the confident air from five minutes before. 

“So.” He set his now empty glass down. “I can consider you a friend?”

You downed the last remnants of your drink. “Of course.”

You both paused, wondering if you should order another drink. But then he turned to you.

“Speaking of connections.” He pulled out a piece of paper, gilded lettering glinting at you from his hand. “If you want to reverse your whole… situation-“ he held it out to you. “Then you can consider yourself formally invited.”

“To where?” You quirked a brow, taking the invite and scanning your eyes over it as if you hadn’t seen something similar before.

“I’m holding a little get-together. I think the other chem-barons would be very happy to meet you.”

You grinned at him, tucking away the paper. “And you just carry these around on your person, do you now?”

He laughed at your little joke, and you stood up, the barstool scraping against the floor. You set a couple of coins onto the counter. “For the drinks,” you said. He smirked appreciatively. “Unfortunately, I’ll be taking my leave now,” you said regretfully. “I enjoyed this.”

He nodded. “I’ll see you at the party, then.”

You grinned, nodded, then waved, disappearing back into the crowd. 

-

You gasped for, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as your trembling hands gripped the paper so hard it would almost crumple. You tried to muffle your sobs, chewing on your lip, but after a while you simply gave up, the sounds of your cries echoing through the bar. 

The first person to notice you was Felicia, who had just walked in. One look at your face and she dashed over to your side, hands on your back, saying something in your ear. You barely heard her.

“…you. [name]. [name]!”

You looked up, eyes raw and bloodshot, nose red. You sniffled and wiped your face with the back of your sleeve, quickly turning over the paper so she couldn’t see what was written on it. Her eyes flew to the action, narrowing with suspicion and concern. “Are you okay?” She asked hurriedly. “What happened?”

You nudged her off of you weakly, turning away. Your hair fell in front of your fair, obscuring it from her view. “I… uh-“ your voice cracked and you were cut off with another bout of sobs which violently racked your shoulders. Her arm closed around you again in a warm embrace.

“Did something happen? Enforcers? Alice?”

“No,” you choked out. You tried to elaborate but the only thing you could force out past the giant lump in your throat was a pathetic whimper. You shuddered, inhaling shakily and dragging your hand across your face before sliding the paper towards her with a trembling hand. She picked it up, turned it over, and her read it.

Her eyes widened. “Is this yours?”

You screwed your eyes shut and nodded.

Her face contorted with empathy. “Oh, [name]…” she frantically looked between your tearstained face and the paper, searching desperately for a way to placate you. “I-It’ll be fine. You said you didn’t want children anyways…”

“I was lying!” You burst out, as the sobs took a hold of you again. You buried your tear-drenched face in your hands, and she sucked in a harsh breath. 

“…and you have Alice.”

You didn’t look up to meet her gaze. She leaned in.

“How did you get this?” She asked gently. You looked up, and the look on her face made her heart wrench.

“I-I was having problems with my- my cycle, and…” you trailed off, shuddering. She hummed patiently, encouraging you to take your time. “One of Hilda’s clients got me an appointment with a doctor topside.” You gestured helplessly at the examination report. She sighed heavily, putting her arm back around your shoulders. You buried your face into her, shaking.

“This isn’t fair,” you sobbed. She smoothed down your hair.

“I kno-“

The door opened, and footsteps sounded out through the room. Felicia pulled away, craning her neck to see who had entered, while you remained hunched over, burning eyes fixed on the wooden surface of the bar counter. 

“Vander.” You heard Felicia’s voice from beside you. “Sevika.”

Sevika slapped a couple of coins onto the counter, right next to you, and went around to pull out a bottle of alcohol. She looked at you as she opened it, and a frown found its way onto her face.

“Holy shit. What’s wrong with you?”

You looked up at her with your tearstained face and bloodshot eyes, and looked back away, wiping your eyes. “It’s a private matter.”

“Right, yeah, cause we’ve only spoken once.” She gave Vander and Felicia a look. “Someone knock you up?”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” you muttered bitterly. She shrugged, walking out from behind the bar counter. 

“Well… good luck.”

The door shut quietly, and you felt a large hand on your shoulder. Vander’s rough yet warm voice graced your ears. “What’s wrong, [name]?” 

You watched as he took his usual position behind the bar. You cleared your throat, but your voice was still raspy when you spoke. “I’m barren.”

He stared at you in shock, not knowing what to say. He looked at Felicia, and she nodded tiredly.

“I’m… so sorry.”

You shook your head in despair and shrugged. “Nothing to be sorry about.” You sniffled again. “Do you… have a tissue?”

Felicia fumbled around, eventually handing you a paper towel. You took it, blowing your nose loudly. She smiled- it was a weak one, but fond. “It’ll be okay, [name]. Like I said, you have Alice. You’re not any less better than you are just because you can’t conceive.”

Vander nodded in agreement. You took the piece of paper again, folding it up and nodding silently. 

The door opened again. Felicia sighed and turned around. “Who now- Hey, Silco.”

You looked up quickly, and shoved the report into your jacket pocket, hurriedly standing up. “I think I might go for a smoke outside,” you stammered. Felicia frowned, but then waved.

“Take it easy, [name].”

You nodded distractedly as you brushed past a confused-looking Silco and stepped outside, pulling out a cigarette. 

Just before the door closed fully you heard the hushed murmur of their voices inside. Predictably, within seconds it was open again, and Silco rushed to your side.

He took your wrist gently, eyes flicking with concern over your tearstained, tired face. “Tell me what happened,” he said simply.

This was what you feared the most. You crossed your arms, turning away silently. He stepped around so he’d come back into your voice, and something small but warm bloomed in your chest at his persistence. “Come on, [name],” he murmured. “Did something happen with Alice? Enforcers? Your job?”

You shook your head mutely, face contorted with agony. With shaking hands you pulled out the report and unfurled it, before handing it to him. Before he even started reading it, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his chest.

His arms immediately flew around you, holding you close. His breath was warm on your hair. “I can’t have children,” you whispered, the words muffled by his shirt.

For a moment he didn’t say anything. You continued, your broken voice filling the silence. “What if I find the perfect person for me, a-and- they don’t like me anymore, because I can’t-“

“Then they don’t deserve you.” He said it with a firm air of finality. You looked up at him, blinking, and he offered you a smile. “You have a daughter, and that- whether or not you can have kids doesn’t dictate your worth.”

You thought for a moment, fingers idly entangling with his hair. “Let’s say you were in love with a girl, and she couldn’t have kids. You’d be fine with that?”

“I still love her.”

You let out a slow breath, heartbeat slowing down. “You mean you would still love her,” you corrected him.

He stared at you for a moment, then put his hand on the back of your head and pushed you gently back into his shoulder. 

“You’re fine, [name]. You have Alice, and- if you’re still sad about kids, you can adopt. I know it’s not the same, but-“

You let out a small ‘sshhh’, hugging him tighter. He chuckled softly, pressing his lips to your hair. You barely noticed it as you pulled away.

“I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of nothing.”

He opened the door for you. “You’re fine. It’s life-changing news.”

You looked at him gratefully, and you both went inside.

-

Donna was, as expected, waiting for you in your office.

You tossed the invitation onto the low table, shrugging off your coat. Her hand shot out to snatch it up, eyes bright as she quickly swept her gaze over the letters. “You got it.”

“I did.”

She looked up. “How was Finn?”

“He’s a pretentious prick,” you said in a matter-of-fact tone, tossing your coat onto the armrest of the couch. “Easy to please. In-your-face.” You picked something else up from the shelf- Allison’s cube- and smoothed your thumb over the sharp edges in remembrance.

“So you’re going to the party,” she breathed. You looked up, and raised a brow.

“We are.”

She blinked at you. “I thought- I thought you would take Sevika.”

You shook your head, twisting the puzzle. It clicked and snapped as you did so. “I was going to cash in one of my favours with her, but if I do it now, she’ll tell Silco I’m going.”

“So we’re keeping it a secret from him?”

“Once we cause a spectacle, he’ll find out anyway.” You turned, setting the cube carefully back on the shelf and clasping your hands behind your back. “But I’d rather him not knowing and not making any attempts to stop me from going.”

“He’ll be pissed.”

You sighed. “I know.”

You were in the lobby, arguing with a client, when Donna emerged through the smoke and brocade. She still had her mask on, you noticed. You turned away from the man to look at her. She cleared her throat.

You waved your hand at the man. “If you can’t pay, you’ll have to leave.”

He planted his feet. “All I want is so-“

You turned your head slightly towards him, the gold on your face, ears and neck glinting dangerously. You scowled.

“I don’t have time to indulge petty, washed-up, cheating pigs,” you snapped, and flicked a gilded wrist at him. Upon your silent command, two workers grabbed him by the shoulders, hauling him out. You crossed your arms, turning to look at Donna expectantly. 

“I’ve got news on Finn,” she said, voice hushed. You looked around the lobby, then gestured to your office. You followed her in, shutting the door. She spun around.

“So, obviously, one of our informants- a regular at the Haven- is heavily associated with the Slickjaws,” she began. “And he told me that Finn had mentioned you.”

You frowned, inspecting the sharp metal that encased the tips of your fingers. “In what way? And was this during a session?”

She shrugged nervously. “Y-yeah.”

You nodded, humming thoughtfully. “Continue. How did he- your client- know it was me?”

“He didn’t, but I did.” She hastily launched into an explanation. “He said that Finn was suspicious of you, because all of a sudden you appeared out of nowhere trying to make a connection, and that he invited you to the party to ‘test the waters.’ He’s going to be keeping an eye on you there. He’s- conveniently- hired my informant alone to keep a close eye on you and report back to him.”

“Who is this… informant, exactly.”

She sighed, her voice taking on the tone of one sat in a confessional. “He’s the one who got me the first invite. The one we couldn’t use? Well, not really. He was showing off to me, and then left it in the room before he left.” She scoffed. “Idiot.”

You hummed, silence on your tongue as your mind raced. 

You finally looked up, eyes flashing. “We need to convince Finn I’m just washed-up and making a last-ditch attempt at putting my name out there.”

“But you aren’t washed-up,” she complained. “Your name is out there. And that’s the whole issue. That’s why your sudden interest looks strange.”

You sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly. “I should have predicted this.” Your voice was heavy. “I should have known he wouldn’t be an idiot.”

She twiddled her thumbs nervously. “What do we… what do we do?”

“I need to think about it,” you admitted. “There’s no way we can convince him I’m harmless before the party. I would have played the long game with this if I could’ve, but I couldn’t. There wasn’t enough time.”m

You sank onto the sofa and looked down. Donna tensed, knowing you were about to say something.

“[name]?”

“Donna…” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, staring at your lap. The silence grew louder.

“Do you think if I’d played it smarter with Silco, and still had him on my team for-“ you gestured aimlessly with your hands, “-this, we’d stand a better chance?”

She paused, then went over to you, sitting down onto the floor so she was in your line of sight. 

“Honestly? No. He’d still be just as suspicious, and have someone on our tail.”

You looked at her, an odd feeling of comfort nestling into the pit of your stomach at her words, and nodded. “Yes. You’re right. Thank-…thank you.”

She grinned. 

An idea flashed through your head. “Say… how much of an idiot is this informant of yours?”

“I mean… he’s just a lackey.” She drew her knees to her chest. “You want me to seduce him even further, or something?”

“Your feminine wiles have gotten us quite some progress thus far.”

She laughed, then smirked. “And what exactly is it that you want me to do?”

You drummed your fingers against your cheek, which was cupped in your palm, as you balanced your elbow on your knee. “Get him off my back during the party, distract him, whatever- and convince him to tell Finn I’m no threat.”

She chuckled. “That’ll be easy enough. He’s just like every other man, anyways.” She rolled her eyes. “Not much love to be lost there.”

You took her hand gratefully, avoiding her gaze. “You’re perfect.”

She smiled, and picked herself up off the ground to sit down next to you, laying her head on your shoulder. “Don’t need to tell me.”

You pursed your lips, eyes staring straight ahead. 

“…Why?” You whispered. 

She looked at you, confused. 

“Why do all this? For me?”

She stared at you blankly. “Because we’re friends? Because you’re the reason I’m not starving on the street?” She laughed like it was obvious, and you chuckled, looking away. 

“I think it’s time to raise your pay a little,” you muttered fondly. She stared at you in shock.

“For what?”

“What you do is way above your pay grade. And I pay people for the work they do. Not anything more, or anything less.”

She giggled with glee, tackling you in a hug. You tensed, bracing for impact against the armrest as you toppled backwards, then wrapped your arms around her once you decided you were both stable. “Thank you so much [name]. Thank you.”

“It’s just a bit more money,” you scoffed, then closed your eyes, relishing the embrace. “But… you’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” she repeated, and you smiled.

-

Alice had always been a sort of timid young girl, not one that was usually bursting with energy. She was jumpy, sure, and anxious, but tonight she seemed particularly alive as her small hand gripped yours, tugging at you insistently, practically bouncing on her toes.

“Come on, Mom! Hurry!” Her voice was urgent, but high and bright, like a small bell tinkling at you through the harshness of Zaun’s nights. 

You laughed softly. You were tired, but the enthusiasm radiating from her had begun to influence you, too. “Alice, it’s way past bed time,” you chided, but your words carried no real substance. 

“But the stars don’t wait!” She retorted, with the sort of childlike certainty that made you half-believe her, even if it was only for a split second. She was already scrambling clumsily up the rickety fire escape, her little feet making the rusted metal freak and groan with each step. You followed close behind, anxiety rushing through you as she climbed with more confidence than caution. 

Once you both reached the rooftop, Alice spun around, tottering a little as she stumbled back, arms outstretched. She flopped onto her back without hesitation, undeterred by the rough roof beneath her. 

“There!” She gasped with wonder, pointing to the glittering expanse above. “That’s where the stars live.”

You lowered yourself down more carefully, crossing your legs to sit beside her, the cool night air sending a shiver down your spine. “And what do they do up there all day?” You asked, resting your chin on your hand as you watched her. 

The girl scrunched her nose in deep thought, pursing her lips as if the weight of the cosmos rested on her answer. “Hmm…” she began, drawing out the word dramatically. 

You chuckled fondly, watching her take her time to decide.

“They nap!” She announced proudly. “But when we look at them, they wake up to smile at us.” She turned her head to grin up at you, eyes sparkling with delight. 

“Do they now?” You said, lips twitching into an involuntary smile.

“Yep!” She chirped, uncharacteristically energetic. You suspected Vander had given her a bit too much juice that day. “See? They’re smiling at you, Mom!”

A genuine laugh fell past your lips, the very sound warm and unguarded. You stretched out beside her, lying back on the hard surface of the roof, your shoulder brushing against hers.

“Maybe they’re smiling at you,” you suggested.

Alice giggled, and the sound filled your chest with a bittersweet ache you couldn’t name. She scooted closer, resting her head on your shoulder. “I think they’re smiling at the both of us,” she whispered, voice gradually returning to its usual softness as her excitement died down. She spoke carefully, as if the stars were truly listening. 

The two of you lay there for a while in comfortable silence, the city’s distant hum fading into the background. The stars seemed impossibly bright that night, scattered like a handful of diamonds spilled across a sea of black. 

“What about the stories I tell you about Janna and the Wins?” You asked her quietly. She sniffed disdainfully.

“They aren’t real!”

“Yes they are. She really does save miners deep down in the fissures, you know.” You spoke softly, sensing her slowly growing sleepy.

“I don’t believe that. I want proof.”

You racked your brains for a response. “You can just ask Silco,” you finally murmured, the promise quick and hastily thought out. “She saved him once.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Alice pursed her lips. “I guess I’ll ask him, but… I still prefer the stars.”

You chuckled softly. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You both fell back into silence. 

“I hope the stars always smile,” Alice murmured, her voice so quiet it could have been lost to the breeze. 

You gently turned your head to look at her, taking in the curve of her cheek, the soft flutter of her lashes as her eyes grew heavy. You reached out to tenderly brush a strand of hair from her face, your fingers lingering on her skin for a split-second, before you leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to her temple. 

“Me too, sweetheart,” you breathed. “Me too.”

As her breathing slowed and evened out, you laid back down. The stars above continued shining, indifferent and eternal, but that night, they seemed to shine for just the two of you. 

And those very same stars were shining above you the night she died. Just like she hoped for, they never stopped smiling.

You wrapped your furs tighter around yourself as you watched Donna lean forward, fixing her hair in the mirror. She looked around for a lipstick, which you produced in the palm of your head, holding it up to the light. She quickly grabbed it without sparing you a glance, putting it on with precision. 

“Do you have the poison?” She asked, before smacking her lips. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror, and you chuckled at her antics.

“I do.”

“And the antidote?”

“That too.”

If anyone looked close enough, they would have noticed that the large stone on the ring on your finger could click open with a very specific sequence of presses, to reveal several grains of mysterious white powder. They would also notice that your sheer, glossy lipstick was coated with the antidote to the effects of said powder, and that the underside unscrew to reveal a small vial full of clear liquid, which was more antidote.

You figured they would go undetected through the guards, if you got lucky enough. They wouldn’t suspect a ring and a lipstick, and the ways to unlock them both was so specific that they wouldn’t easily stumble upon it.

“When are you going to give him the poison?”

“I’ll steal a moment alone,” you said, turning over the lipstick in your hands. “And pour us both a drink.”

Donna frowned. “There’s a few things to brush up on that plan, but I’m guessing you have them all thought out.”

“You know I’m a meticulous planner.” You adjusted your earring. “Shall we go?”

She smoothed her hands down her sides, her purple dress shimmering in the light. “How do I look?”

“Stunning. Now come on.”

And so you both piled into the automobile, to the address on Finn’s invite.

The party wasn’t exactly topside- you doubted he’d want to host an event drawing attention to the Slickjaws in Piltover itself, although you figured that was quite the purpose of the party itself. Which is why you and Donna found yourselves some way away from the undercity itself, in a rather empty part of Zaun. The building itself was all lit up, and there was a man stationed at the entrance as you both went up. You craned your neck to look past his shoulders, into the building inside. There was a line of people waiting to get in. 

I thought this was an exclusive party? You thought cynically, shooting Donna a look as you both stepped up to the man to present your invite. He took the glittering paper, running his eyes over it to confirm its authenticity, then finally nodded, holding his hand out.

“Bag,” he said roughly, and you dumped your handbag into his hands. He rummaged through it, finding nothing but your secretly-an-antidote lipstick, and a tiny bottle of perfume. He frowned, picking it up and holding it to the light to inspect it.

“It’s perfume,” you explained calmly. He stared at you, eyes narrowing, before he set the bottle aside.

“You can’t take it in.”

You shrugged. “Fine by me.”

He pulled out the lipstick, smoothing his large thumb over the edges. You didn’t even tense, instead flashing him a smirk. Finally deciding it was harmless, he hesitantly put it back in the purse, before handing it back to you. 

He gestured to the side. A woman stepped forward to search you. She patted you down, and you let her, heart almost bursting with excitement. But you didn’t show it, keeping on an expressionless face as she unhooked the barrier, letting you step through. 

Donna was soon at your back, once they’d let her through too. She put her hand on your shoulder, tugging insistently. “[name],” she hissed. “We might have a slight problem.”

You glanced at her. “What?”

“Turn around.”

You turned your head ever-so-slightly to stare back through the entrance. Sevika was being let through into the building. You snapped your head back around, eyes widening.

“Sweet mother of-“

“Let’s get out of here.”

You both quickly brushed through the crowd. You threw another look back over your shoulder. Sevika had disappeared. You both looked at eachother, breathing hard.

“Do you think Silco knows?”

You both went to the bar, and you waved the bartender over. You looked around, leaning against the bar counter. The air was thick and sweet, the smell of perfume mixing with the sound of the crowd’s bustle.

“I think he suspected I’d be up to something, and sent Sevika to keep an eye on me,” you muttered. You turned to the bartender, throwing your order dismissively over your shoulder. “Something light and fruity,” you said briskly, and your eyes slid to Donna. She shook her head.

“I won’t be drinking.”

The bartender left to go make your drinks. You turned back to Donna.

“Either way, if she sees us, she’ll know that we’re up to something, and she’ll try to stop us.” You frowned, adjusting your carefully done up hair. Donna nodded slowly. “Now we’ll have two people up our asses.” Your eyes flicked up to hers, and you smirked sarcastically. “You don’t think you could distract the both of them at the same time?”

Donna laughed a little at your sly, throwaway joke. Your drinks clinked in front of you, and you threw the bartender a smile as you picked up yours. “I can still distract the informant. As for Sevika… well, there’s a simple solution to that.”

You raised an eyebrow expectantly, awaiting her explanation. She sighed.

“Your favours, [name]. Now, look- I know you’ll think it’s a waste, but Sevika will be more than willing to get rid of one of the five easily. It’ll make everything easier, and-“

“What if she doesn’t give in?” You hissed. “You know she’s big on loyalty.”

“You’re not asking her to be loyal. You’re asking her to stay out of the way. Guilt trip her, or something.” She shrugged, watching you take a thoughtful sip of your drink. The flavours danced on your tongue. 

You huffed, swirling around the liquid in your glass. “Fine. Once she sees us, I’ll do it.” Your eyes scanned the crowd suspiciously. “Until then… we need to find your little boyfriend.”

Donna rolled her eyes, then turned to match your gaze, eyes flicking from face to face. She paused, then nudged you subtly, muttering: “I see him.”

“You do?” 

“Yeah, he’s on his own. He’s got his eye on us- I just know he does.”

Before you could say another word she pushed herself off of the barstool, sauntering towards his direction confidently. You watched as she touched the shoulder of a man, giving him a beguiling smile. And within seconds, he was whipped. You snorted derisively at his lack of a sense of duty.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

You spun around. “Sevika.”

She gave you a smirk, eyes flashing as if she’d caught you like prey.

-

“Babette!” You yelled, banging on the door of the brothel. “Open up. Open up right now.”

The door slowly swung open, a young woman wearing a mask peering down at you. You were breathing heavily, fists clenched at your sides. She took in the bruises and dirt smeared on your face, the stains of tear-tracks running down your cheeks, then stepped aside, letting you in.

In a small, pink-lit back room of the brothel, you found Babette. She looked at you, her wrinkled face wearing an expression you couldn’t decipher. “[name].”

“Babette.” You slumped onto the sofa opposite her, and she looked at you, her face contorted with sympathy. It made you feel sick, small. 

“If you’ve come to argue about-“

“I want a job,” you croaked. She looked at you, frowning.

“A job? After everything you’ve done, you want a job?” Despite her concern, she sounded exasperated. You straightened up, heartbeat quickening.

“Everything I’ve done?” Your voice was a confused whisper. “Wh-what?”

“You caused a scene in my business, and in the Last Drop. You threatened to kill the leader of the Lanes, [name]. And as a member of the community I can’t just take you in.”

Your vision began to blur as you stared unseeingly at the gaudy carpet. “Seriously?”

She stayed silent, eyes trained on your hunched form. You looked up, eyes red and raw with pain. She flinched.

“You’re all kicking me out of the Lanes,” you rasped, “Because of my reaction to my daughter’s death?”

“You behaved dangerously.”

You suddenly stood up, and she flinched again, drawing back. The heart-wrenching look on your face was too much for her to bear- she looked away, avoiding your broken stare. She sighed slowly.

“If I have you in here, it’ll drive people away from the brothel.”

“You’re the only one that can help me.” Your voice cracked, tears threatening to spill over. “You- I- I can’t-“

“I’m sorry, [name], but it’s the end of the line. You can’t expect free handouts from any of us. Life goes on.”

You couldn’t speak, unable to breath. Everything was crashing and burning around you. Babette said something to you again, but you couldn’t see her, nor hear her, over the rushing of blood in your ears. You stumbled out of the room and out of the front door into the cold night air. 

Your face was warm, you ran the back of your hand across it. It came back wet with tears. You pulled your jacket tight around you, stumbling down the steps. You almost bumped into a group of men who were entering the brothel behind you. One of them called out for you, reaching for your shoulder, but you smacked his hand away harshly, gasping for oxygen as you staggered back, dazed.

With a final, desperate stifled cry, you disappeared into the undercity, hopeless. 

-

You pulled the rough fabric of a hood over your head, the cloak obscuring the telltale slope of your shoulders and casting a shadow over your face as you knocked on the wooden door. The windows of the building were flickering with a dim, weak light, and the door opened slowly.

“Is this a brothel?” You muttered. The girl nodded. There was a purpling bruise on her jaw, just barely visible beneath her mask. Two long tufts of fur you recognised as ears were perched on her head.

You’d travelled all across the undercity to find work, but every single place had turned you away, or you were simply unable to work there, due to a lack of expertise. Your bones were aching, and you were starving, and all you desperately craved was food and a bath, but you needed a means to it first- and this dark, dingy cathouse was your last hope.

“Where’s the person who runs it?”

The girl tilted her head. “You’re looking for a job? Or a night in?”

“Job,” you rasped. She opened the door wider, stepping aside to let you in. You entered.

Unlike the gust of warm air that usually greeted you in Babette’s establishment, all you were met with was a miserable chill. The building was large, but the stairs to top floors were boarded up, the wood rotting away. The footsteps of your worn boots and the girl’s scuffed heels were swallowed up by the manky carpet, as she led you to a door in the corner, tail sweeping the floor, unawarely brushing your shins. A tattered veil of brocade hung in front of the doors, which were wide open. She pushed it aside, stepping into the office.

You looked around. It was lit with a couple of almost burnt-out candles and a single, cold, flickering lamp in the corner. Two couches were sat opposite each other, the old velvet peeling beneath the hard, stiff cushions. In between them was a low table, the wood chipped and scuffed. The room stank of smoke. It made you want to choke. 

There was a middle-aged woman sat on the larger couch, a cigarette in between her puckered lips. A half-empty box sat on the low table in front of her, as well as an overflowing ashtray. Your hands twitched, your addiction flaring up at the mere sigh of the cigarettes, but you knotted your fingers together and clamped your lips shut.

“New hire,” said the girl tiredly. The woman looked up, and flicked her head. The vastaya stepped out, the stiff fabric of the curtain rustling as she left.

You stared after her in panic. The woman looked at you piercingly. 

“What’s your name, girl?”

“[name],” you stammered. She quirked a brow, a cold smile curling across her thin lips. 

“[name],” she repeated, testing the word out on her tongue. After a moment she leaned forward, the cigarette clutched between her skeletal fingers, before stubbing it out amongst the ash already piled up on the tray. You gulped, nodding. “You may refer to me as Madam. I’m the owner of this fine establishment, you see,” she said, gesturing to the room. 

Not so fine, you thought silently, but didn’t say anything. She continued.

“My word is law here. I’m sure an impressionable young woman can get behind that.”

You nodded again. She chuckled, the sound low and dry. It made spiders skitter down your spine. 

“Good. You’ll make a wonderful addition to the staff here.” Her eyes glittered. “You’ll make me a lot of money.”

“W-wait!” You burst out, then immediately clamped your mouth shut as you watched her expression darken, thin brows raising. You trembled as you forced yourself to continue. “I-I can’t be a prostitute.”

She stared at you, irritated. “Then you can’t work here. It’s a brothel, girl, not a homeless shelter.”

The jab made your cheeks burn. “No, no, I can do anything else. I can clean, cook for the girls boarding here, I-I can balance the accounts-“

She stared at you for a moment, and after a while, her scowl began to ease up. “I have always wanted a little plaything,” she mused, standing up slowly. “Someone to toss around.”

Oh, great. You’ve offered yourself to an old woman who proudly announces she’s been looking for someone to abuse.

The image of the dark, ugly bruise on the girl’s jaw flashed behind your eyes. You screwed them shut. Silco was right. These places were hellholes. 

At the small thought of him, another sob threatened to break free from your chest. 

“I’ll find a good use for you yet, girl,” the woman purred, prowling around you in a circle, as though she was sizing you up.

You stared at the floor, the dread in the pit of your stomach threatening to spill out onto the floor. 

It didn’t take long for you to understand exactly what the new brothel was like.

It didn’t have a name on the outside, and looked less than inviting. But Madam always had one of the workers stand outside the door to try to lure in any sleazeballs. They didn’t have to try too hard- the undercity was filled with walking filth.

And that was the only thing that ever graced the dim halls of the brothel- pure filth. Men walked in thinking they could do whatever they wanted to the women, just because they were paying for an hour of indulgence, and in a way, they could. Because Madam never once tried to protect a single girl that worked in the brothel.

There was a small room at the back where everyone would sit and gather together before retiring to their respective rooms- of course, they would be woken up the second a client called in. You were sweeping the floor, giving it the much-needed clean it had been waiting seemingly years for, while the girls sat in a circle.

Your eyes scanned the small group of people. They were all women, mostly young, around the same age as you. One of them appeared to have just turned eighteen- if you were pushing it. She pulled out something wrapped in a skank sliver of foil, eyes shiftily darting around the room.

The air was thick with awkwardness and tension. You figured it wasn’t usually like this, but your presence seemed to have changed things.  

The vastaya that had led you in finally spoke, her pale hair brushing her shoulders and spilling down her back as she looked at you.

“So. [name].”

You nodded, knuckles turning white from how tightly you gripped the broom handle. Everyone turned to look at you, and your heart dropped into your shoes.

“H-hello.”

The young girl was munching on whatever had been in the foil. She caught your eye, then looked up, hastily wiping her mouth and stammering an apology.

You stared at her, unsure of what to say. Why is she apologising? The vastaya turned back to you.

“Why the fuck did you come here?”

“What?” You stuttered, almost dropping the broom. She scowled, and the girls exchanged dirty looks amongst themselves. 

“You’re not working. You’re just…”

“Making myself useful,” you said quickly. The dust and bits and pieces of dirt you’d swept into a small pile was pushed into the corner with the bristles of your broom, and you leaned it against the wall precariously. The vastaya scoffed.

“Well, you made the wrong choice. This place will eat you alive.” Her eyes flicked up and down your frame, narrowing. “Maybe slower since you aren’t working, but Madam over there will find a way to make your life a living hell if the clients won’t.” She jerked her head out the door, then turned away, scoffing lightly.

You frowned, tensing. “What’s that meant to mean?”

“What do you think?” Another girl snapped. She had dark violet hair, hanging straight and long. “Don’t you see the giant bruise on her face?”

The room erupted into hushed murmurs and the vastaya’s hand flew to her jaw, affronted. “That’s below the belt, Priss,” she hissed. The girl that had just spoken hung her head.

That… wasn’t even an insult? You thought silently, but didn’t say anything as you watched everyone glare pointedly at Priss.

“This isn’t a good place to be,” another girl spoke. She was around your age, her pale, sunken green eyes seemingly glazed over as she searched your face. Her voice was hushed by nature, like cold dust, or a rusted silver bell that no longer tinkled. “You look like you won’t make it out of here in one piece,” she said gently. It wasn’t an insult, or a warning. Just a simple statement.

You sucked in a deep breath as you lowered yourself to the floor, back pressed against the wall. You wanted desperately to ask about the bruise, but you didn’t say anything. Once you’d taken a closer look you noticed that the other girls had bruises too, just less visible. 

“What-“ your voice was raspy, and you swallowed, licking your lips. “What really goes on here?”

“You wanna know what goes on here?” The vastaya snapped. She gestured wildly to her face. “This is what happens. Those pigs think they can do whatever they want to us, because they give Madam money. And they do.” Her sharp voice cracked and she turned away.

“Sylvia…” the green-eyed murmured, reaching for the vastaya’s shoulder. Sylvia wrenched herself away from her touch.

“Don’t touch me, Jade,” she muttered. You watched the interaction unfold without a clue of what was going on. Sylvia snapped her head up, sharp eyes flashing to meet yours. “We can’t do anything to stop anyone who tries to hurt us,” she hissed. “Because if they don’t, then Madam does it ten times harder. Show her, Jade.”

The green-eyed girl looked up mindlessly at the sound of her voice, then tugged off her glove. There were burn marks around her wrist, going up her forearm.

“This is what she gets for pushing off a man who tried to assault her with a knife,” Sylvia said, enraged. Jade shook her head, eyes downcast, slipping her hand back into her glove. 

“You all… you live here?” You whispered disbelievingly. Priss spoke, breaking her sullen silence.

“She lets us live here. But she makes us pay rent.” She looked around the room. “It’s the cheapest we can find in the undercity. We can’t afford anything else.”

“Can’t you… leave? Find another job?”

“If you could have found another job, would you have come here?” Sylvia snapped. At your guilty silence, she laughed harshly. “That’s what I thought.”

“H-how much does she pay you?”

“Not enough.” A woman at the back spoke. Her wavy brown hair was mussed, hanging around her face messily. There was a small cut just below her eye. “And then most of it goes into rent.”

The whole room fell into silence.

“I’ll tell you what,” Sylvia hissed. “You get out of here while you still can. You don’t have to-“

“I don’t have anywhere else to g-“ you tried to protest, but the door opened suddenly. 

You stared at the back heels clicking on the floor as Madam walked in, her sharp, pale eyes sweeping across the room.

“Laura,” she commanded. “You have a client waiting for you.”

The girl who was eating looked up suddenly, eyes widening. Looking around frantically, she pushed her sandwich into the brown-haired woman’s hands, before scrambling after Madam. The door slammed shut.

“Erin,” Sylvia warned. Erin looked up from the sandwich she was clutching in her hands. Her stomach rumbled loudly.

She put it down quickly. “Yeah, no, yeah. I won’t eat it.”

You licked your dry, cracked lips nervously as you looked anxiously from face to face.

“Laura… how old is she?”

Jade looked up, her husky voice soothing your ears. “Seventeen.”

You blanched, looking around at their faces. “Seventeen?”

No one said anything. You scoffed, outraged. “This- this can’t be serious.”

Sylvia shrugged, looking away. “Shut up. You don’t know anything about what we have to go through. She’s doing what she can to survive.”

You looked around at the miserable group of women, no more words left to say. The next half hour was spent in silence, until Sylvia showed you to her room.

“You’ll be boarding with me,” she said flatly. She opened the door to a small room, another one at the back. The walls were damp and the single bed looked like the mattress was harder than stone. There was a couple of articles of clothing strewn around, with a few pieces of rusted jewellery spilling out of a small bindle tossed carelessly on the floor. “You’ll be taking the floor.”

“That’s alright,” you murmured quietly, setting down your own bag in the corner of the room. There was a thin, stiff blanket folded in the corner. Sylvia jerked her chin at it.

“For you.”

Within a few minutes you were both wrapped up- you on the cold floor, her on her cold bed. Your eyes fluttered as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

Sylvia’s voice broke the spell. “What’s your… your story? How’d you end up here?”

You stared at the ceiling, eyes burning with the need to sleep. “My daughter died,” you began softly. Sylvia turned over in bed to face your direction.

“How?”

“There was an uprising on the bridge. Just an hour before that, she was killed by enforcers.” Your throat burned, but you no longer had any tears to cry. Simply talking about it made you feel empty.

“…And then what?”

Your eyes fluttered shut. “I had about… four or five other people I could rely on. Two of them died, and one of them hurt the other. The one who got hurt, his name was…” a lump formed in your throat. “His name was Silco. I was only really super close with him, honestly. He just… disappeared after that day.”

“Oh,” Sylvia uttered. 

You laughed, the sound harsh and dry. “Right? So I go to the man who betrayed him. I ask him why he let my daughter die- she was his responsibility, you see, and he left her, and that’s how she-“ you screwed your eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath. “And that’s how she was found by the enforcers. But- but, he…”

“Take your time.”

“But I found out he did something to Silco too. So I yelled at him.” You laughed again, even more tiredly this time. “Said some pretty intense stuff. And, of course, he’s the leader of the little community we’ve got going on down here. So all of a sudden no one wants me around. I lose my job and can’t get another one, which is how I find myself here.”

“I’m sorry,” Sylvia muttered. Despite the rough exterior of the words, she sounded like she truly meant it.

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about it.”

You both fell into silence, and eventually, to sleep.

-

You were woken up by screaming.

Your eyes tore open, and you gasped, sitting upright. Who was that?

It was a young voice. You didn’t recognise it- and there was only one girl's voice you hadn’t heard…

Laura. 

She screamed again, and something thumped, rattling the walls. You went to scramble to your feet, but before you knew it, Sylvia was tackling you to the floor.