Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Forever. 

That's what they’d promised. That they would give themselves to each other till the end of time. 

Forever is complicated when one of you is supposed to be dead. It was getting difficult to keep up the facade; she could only hide her face in the sanctuary for so long, could only venture into Zaun so often without risking being spotted. Jinx was no stranger to living in the shadows, but she wanted more than that now. She didn't want to be a ghost anymore.

Not that she'd tell Ekko that, or so she thought.

“What's on your mind?” he mumbles to her on yet another blissful early morning.

“You.”

He chuckles, his fingers running through the endless blue hair scattered over his chest, “I'm flattered. But really though.”

She looks up at him from where her cheek was resting on his collar, bathing her face in golden morning light in that way Ekko could never grow tired of.

“Waddaya want, lil’ man,” she smirks.

“You,” he grins back, prompting a roll of the eyes, “see, two can play at that game.”

“Eugh, you're so cheesy.”

“What can I say, you bring it out in me.”

Jinx stares at the window for a few moments. It's finally been fixed, the boards pulled off and some wonky glass fitted in. She’d added curtains as a feminine touch—decorated with neon monkeys and scribbles, of course.

“I didn't think it'd be like this,” she murmurs. She hadn't planned on telling him, but Ekko’s always had that way of making her say what she tries to hide.

“Yeah, I thought I'd get more of the blanket,” he teases, though he knows what she really means. 

“Not this, silly. In fact, I didn't think of anything past this.”

“Blinded by love…”

She flicks his ear; she hates that he's at least half-right. Fuck it, just right.

“But that's the problem. I just wanted to get back to you, I forgot I was supposed to be dead.”

His hand glides down through her hair to reach her svelte shoulder, cupping it in his palm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You could always come back to life.”

“What, here?” she scoffs, “They've only just got back on their feet. No need to Jinx ‘em all again.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s better like this. I’m not gonna go yappin’ around bein’ a big fat hero, getting enforcers pokin’ around down here again,” she turns her head away again, resting it in the gap between his chest and arm.

“But I thought…” 

“It's not happening, Ekko,” she says bitterly.

She can't help but hunch into the small circles his thumb strokes over her shoulder. He stares at the window for a few moments, at the patterns she’d drawn on it and the portraits he’d pinned to the wall around it.

“Then go.”

“What?” she freezes for a moment then turns back to him. 

“You were happy there,” he says, his voice artificially light.

“I know but—”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“Ekko, we talked about this! I'm not leaving you again.”

He falls silent—he can't bring himself to argue with her. This time it's his turn to look away; his gaze drops to the floor beside his desk, where he'd discarded the crumpled sketches of the worst fragments of his dreams. They'd been cleared away weeks ago.

She follows his eyes and winces. That night on the ledge. The resigned look in his eyes when he thought he was losing her yet again but still telling her it was okay, that it was for the best. She can't, won't let him go back to that. She might be the one who wants to leave, but he’s the one who needs to. But since when has he done what's good for him?

She raises a hand to his collar, calling out to him with a whisper.

“Only if you come with me.”

He ought to be surprised. He'd spent so long trying to build Zaun up that leaving would have been unthinkable. He'd shattered time for Zaun, fought a war for it. He'd lost his childhood and his friends and kept going. Only to crumble at one death. One measly, crushing death that didn't even turn out to be real. Maybe it’s for the best if he’s not here to drag everyone down with him.

“Alright.”

The answer she wanted and the tone she didn't. He of all people wouldn't say it so easily. She brings her palm to the side of his face and gently pulls it towards her. 

“Um… you sure? You don't seem sure.”

“I'm sure.”

“You don't sound like you mean it,” she smirks.

“Jinx, I'd follow you to the end of Runeterra if I had to.” He gives a wry smile and lifts her wrist, laying a gentle kiss to her fingers where they rest on his cheek.

She can feel her face going pink from those soft lips on her skin. God, does he do things to her.

“Besides, Zaun’s well past needing me. I’ve fallen behind.”

Aaand he’s ruined it. Of course he said that. He always says that when he gets like this—quiet, distant, slipping out of reach. She has to pull him back.

It’s taken weeks to get here, but he’s doing better. He doesn’t break or freeze up anymore. And their nights... they’ve actually been peaceful. They’ve even been able to go solo in some ventures out of the sanctuary. But he’s not all the way there yet—and, in all honesty, neither is she. Even if life back in Zaun had been perfect (it isn’t), it doesn’t matter as long as Ekko is like this.

“Hey, you. None of that.”

“What, don't want me to come with you?” he tries to turn the smile into a half-hearted smirk.

She shuffles up the bed and pokes her own lips at his cheek. “The other bit, dummy.”

“Whatever...” he scrunches up his face and pulls away slightly, but she isn't having any of it.

“You're not getting away from me buster.” She slings her arms round his neck and drags him back, peppering his cheek with more insistent kisses. “You're still my boy saviour, whether you like it or not.”

“You're so annoying,” he chuckles, grabbing her wrist and angling her head to get his own back with a peck at her forehead. 

“Yeah, well you're stupid and—eek!” Jinx’s giggles are cut off as Ekko wraps his arms around her and squeezes her into a tight hug.

***

“You don't have to do this, brother.”

“Why not? I'm already M.I.A anyway.”

Scar huffs and shakes his head, “And how did you convince yourself this would benefit us?”

“One less mouth to feed.”

“You know that’s not how we operate, certainly not with you.”

Ekko shrugs. In a way, this has been a long time coming. Without Jinx he'd become a ghost, a shadowy figure seldom seen and best left alone. Now she’s here he doesn't want her to be alone—which has, out of necessity, kept him just as elusive as he was before. He’s simply of no use to the firelights anymore. If Jinx can't live a normal life, neither can he. 

“It doesn't matter, everyone pitches in. If I can't, then I'm done here. That's my decision.”

His reasoning defies everything that Scar and the firelights know Ekko to be. He'd built this community on his own back, all to give people a chance he now isn’t giving to himself. Scar can only let out a defeated sigh. He knows better than to tell Ekko what to do.

“Know that you will always have a place here.”

“So you don't want my room?” Ekko smirks.

Scar smiles. “No. But I will ask one thing of you.”

“Name it.”

“You tell the others your decision at the next meeting.”

Ekko’s face tightens immediately. “No way, not happening.”

“Why?”

“Forget it Scar, I’m not having this talk again.” 

“Ekko, you—”

“I don’t care!”

“We don't know when you'll be back!” Scar bursts out. A few people at ground level glance around, confused at the noise but unable to determine its source—the highest platform on the tree. Ekko scowls at Scar but the Chirean doesn't back off. “Or if you even plan to,” he finishes, his voice toned down but still firm.

Ekko shakes his head and turns to lean forward against the railing, crossing his arms on top of it and looking down at the ambling of the sanctuary below. People go about their day, moving supplies and congregating around workstations while children play in little scattered groups.

“I haven’t had any plans for a long time.”

Scar joins him, his eyes sweeping the rows of new tents and carts from topside. The ones Ekko had forced the council to send as his last act as leader.

“You don’t owe us anything, brother,” Scar’s voice returns a minute later, back to his usual deep, measured tone, “whatever you choose to do, you have the right to. But you deserve more than to just slip away like before.”

Ekko’s nose twitches and he huffs in frustration at the roots of the tree spread out below. He turns around, letting the railing dig into his back while he faces the mural. He knows all too well the wound left by unexplained death. Even if he has no place here anymore, he’d rather not burden them with that again.

He pushes himself off the railing and holds still for a moment, still looking up. “I’ll think about it,” he mutters before stalking towards his quarters, leaving Scar standing there without another word.

Jinx is painting her nails when Ekko comes in through the door and dumps himself on a chair with a heavy sigh. She's taken over half the desk since she arrived, littering it with new trinkets and projects she tries to busy herself with. Not an inch of Ekko’s side is visible for his portraits of her covering it, with some new ones pinned to the wall on her side.

“Someone's in a mood,” she drawls, “‘s the matter, got in a fight with the bugs?”

Ekko chews on his tongue. “How much did you hear?”

“Pretty much all of it,” she shrugs. “Hard not to, really.”

“Right...” he covers his face with his hands, dragging them down and wearily kneading his temples with the tips of his fingers. He has no idea what to do. He can't deny Scar has a point, but that still doesn’t make it necessary . He doesn't want some kind of grand send-off—why would he, after moping about uselessly for months. 

He hears a rhythmic tapping — one of them much louder than the others — and looks up to see Jinx holding her arms out faced down in front of her. Her hands hang at the wrists, balanced over the table on colourful nails alternating between blue and violet—all apart from her mechanical middle finger, which sports a pink smiley face.

“Ya like ‘em?” she chirps through a bitten lip.

Ekko can't help but smile at her infectious grin. He reaches out to her fingers to get a better look, careful to avoid spoiling the fresh varnish on her nails. A clean swipe of crisp green crowns the points of every one of them.

“Love ‘em.”

She lets out a poorly suppressed giggle and shuffles her chair next to him, covering his wrist with both hands.

“Soo, whaddaya gonna do?”

“Hmm?”

“Gonna tell yer bug friends you're goin’ on holiday or what?”

He snorts and leans over the table, inspecting the back of her hands so as to avoid her eyes.

“I dunno. What am I supposed to tell them, that I'm going to I don't know where for I don't know how long and when they ask if I'm coming back, I say I don't know?”

Jinx raises her eyebrows in a way that suggests the question is idiotic. “Yeah, why not?”

He frowns and looks up at her. “Are you serious?”

“Who cares? What does it matter if we’re gonna leave anyway?”

He huffs and shakes his head back down, “You don’t get it, I don’t even want to go to that stupid meeting. I don't belong there.”

“Riiight, Mister Firelight doesn't belong in his own—”

“Don't call me that, they don't need—”

She pulls a hand back and shoves irritably at his shoulder to make him look at her, which he inevitably does. “Urgh, can you stop worrying about other people for once in your life! What about yourself?”

He presses his lips into a thin line. She always has that damned way of demanding his attention, which he's only too happy to accept but almost always ends with him folding. He turns his hand under hers and closes in on it slightly, leaning on his other elbow and staring below her eyes. He takes a few moments before breaking the silence. “I went to one of those meetings a month after you left. My first and last one after the war.”

Jinx returns his grip, interlocking her fingers with his. Of course it was her, it always is.

“Did anything happen?”

He keeps his gaze low and shakes his head. “No, it hadn't started yet. I just looked like shit,” he tries a smile but it comes out as a sneer.

She lowers her head slightly to try and catch his gaze, to coax his eyes up to meet her. “Ekko,” he finally looks up at hearing that voice grace his name, “you can't say you don't belong there. You built this place.”

She studies him as silence covers them again. She can tell how much he's built this up in his head, how he’s forcing himself to talk. Since she came back she’s just listened and listened to him, but despite everything she'd told him, he’d brushed off what he'd done in the past as if it didn't matter, that he’d become a so-called liability. Finally, the corner of his mouth twitches. “You wouldn't know it from the past few months.” 

“Doesn't matter. You've given them so much, you at least deserve to say goodbye,” she squeezes his hand and offers him a smile, her eyes searching his, calling out to them. “Don't make the same mistake I did.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I'll... okay, I'll do it.” 

Jinx relaxes a little when he finally comes round. She stands up and rounds his chair, trailing her fingers up his arm until her hands reach the top of his shoulders, warming them with her palms. She’s learnt that from him, how it always calms her down. “When's the meeting?”

He shudders slightly as she starts massaging him but quickly settles and leans back in the chair, feeling knots he didn't know he had unraveling along his back. “I don't know... If they still do it like before, it should be in a couple days.” 

“You'll eat ‘em up,” she presses slightly firmer, digging deeper. She’s definitely not as good at this as him but it seems to be working. “Should we get ready?”

He frowns slightly and makes to turn around but she holds him in place. “What do you mean, we? What’s there to get ready for?”

She rolls his eyes and lightly taps the sides of his neck, “Well I'm guessing we're not gonna hang around after you have your little chat.”

“Oh. Right.” He’s going to leave Zaun. His home, his people.

Chapter Text

Ekko turns the owl mask over in his hands, running his fingers along the edges of its face before hanging it by its strap on his belt. He checks his pocket watch for what feels like the hundredth time, saddling it back on his belt alongside the mask. He wishes he still had the Z-drive, then maybe he could delay just a bit more. It's stupid, so stupid. He's done this countless times, and those had been important meetings, not just a simple goodbye as someone who doesn’t even matter. But those had been before. He's not that man anymore. 

The reality of what he’s going to do swells to the front of his mind, a high tide always building in the back of his mind now crushing him, forcing him to acknowledge until it threatens to consume him entirely. He peers over the platform and sees Scar and the others filing into the hall. He can't back out now.

Deep breaths. One step at a time. He's not in a rush, the meeting’s barely started. He doesn't need to be there yet. Not like he has much to say, anyway. Then why is he doing it in the first place? It's pointless. He shouldn't have let Scar convince him so easily. Same for Jinx. God, he's hopeless when it comes to her.

He's at the door already. How did that happen? It's too soon. He can just barely hear them talking in there—nobody ever had any trouble hearing that booming voice. Good thing too, since he's the leader now. Has been for a little while. He's probably coping with it well. Ekko doesn't even know why Scar encouraged him to lead in the first place; Scar was one who brought him in.

Silence. Not exactly silence, but nobody’s talking, just murmuring amongst themselves, mixing with uneven whispers he can't quite place. Is it time already? How long has he been standing outside the door? Dammit, he should have been thinking of what to say. Not that he’s much good at it nowadays.

A soft orange glow beckons, seeping out from under the door. It pulls at his boots, a chain wrapping around his ankles and refusing to let go. His palm curls around the handle and he feels that familiar throbbing in the back of his head, gripping it as tightly as his hand on the doorknob.

“No.” He grunts through gritted teeth and finally turns his wrist.

His arm extends and the door swings slowly open. The room instantly falls silent. Real silence. The kind where you could hear someone's heartbeat if it weren't for your own.

His eyes briefly sweep the room as he shuts the door behind him; its soft clunk might as well be a clap of thunder. Everyone is looking at him, their necks craned in his direction. He finds Scar furthest from him at the head of the table, watching solemnly. He's the only person there—Ekko included—who doesn't seem shocked to see him back. 

Ekko takes a single breath and steps past the door, a dozen pairs of eyes following him as he makes his way towards Scar. He recognises all of them, every face that stood beside him over the years. They hadn't lost anyone since the war, which makes sense of course. He'd stepped away, he hadn't let his weakness harm them.

Scar leaves his seat as Ekko approaches, offering him the one at the head of the table. Ekko shoots him a sharp glance. No, too far. Not here for that. He gives a curt nod and pulls the chair out of the way, moving it to the side, standing in its place instead. 

His lips part wordlessly, resisting for one more second before he finally breaks the oppressive silence.

“Been a while,” his voice is unexpectedly husky. He clears his throat and starts again, trying to stay level, measured, calm. This is just a goodbye, he doesn't need to make it anything special. If it was up to him he wouldn't have even bothered with this.

“I know you haven't seen much of me lately,” he's already failing, his voice refusing to stay flat, waving up and down as if his words actually carry meaning. Maybe that's for the best, let them think he has it together. He doesn't want pity. He tries a smile, but it's a bitter, tight-lipped thing he aims at himself. His comrades look on with stony faces, their eyes flicking to each other. Seems they know where this is going.

“But me being here doesn't change anything, really. I just came to say goodbye.”

They finally rebel, asking if he's serious, talking over each other in protest. They're confused, frustrated, their voices simmering just below outrage. He can't say he's taken aback, but he still hoped this wouldn't happen. It's unnecessary.

“Listen!” his voice rings out; even months after resigning, it still carries the authority to make the dissent quickly die down. “There's no point. I don't have anything to give here anymore, this is for the best.” Scar turns his head away—they've already been through this but that doesn't make it any easier to accept. “I can't tell you where I'm going, or for how long... or if I'm even coming back. I just don't know.”

His comrades hold their tongues this time. Their shoulders slump slightly, their expressions subdued almost in shame. He damns himself for defeating them. He can't leave them like this. It's not their fault, he of all people can't burden them with this.

“What I do know,” his voice rises, uplifting them, beckoning them to look up at him again for one last time, “is that wherever I am, I'll be sure you have it figured out. I can only thank you for that, for giving me that peace of mind. Otherwise I...” his voice wavers with unexpected emotion, “I wouldn't be able to do this.”

He quickly pulls himself together. This is the final stretch, he can finally finish it. “So I guess for what it's worth,” nothing, not anymore, “I'm proud of you all.” 

He lets out a single breath; not a sigh, not out of relief, but one of release. It's over. He can finally leave this wretched, useless life behind. He reaches for his belt and pulls out the owl mask, the one he'd taken from Benzo’s workshop all those years ago. He sets it down on the table and it rocks on its face, resting heavily on one side as he turns away from the head of the table.

Before he even rounds the corner the whole table stands and gathers round him. They embrace him, shake his hand, and wish him well. Every one of them. Ekko thought they'd be angry with him, that they'd resent him for being absent for so long and leaving without earning it. But they thank him for what he'd done before that, encourage him to look out for himself and, of course, to come back whenever he wants.

He eventually makes his way through and reaches the door. Scar, who had picked up the owl mask and stood at the table, studying it carefully, gets to him last. He weighs it up and holds it firmly between them, brandishing it like a badge.

“You'll come back for this,” he grunts.

Ekko can only nod, promising him sincerity but no more than that. He gives the room one last wistful smile, a real one this time, before leaving them for good.

***

The meeting had extended well into the evening but when Ekko gets back he sees the lights all on. Jinx is packing her bag when he comes in—it looks very, very heavy.

"I'm back."

She zips up the bag and twirls to sit on it, facing him. “How’d your leaving party go?” 

He scoffs. “Calling it a party would be a massive stretch.”

She sends him a quick, sympathetic smile. "Shame. You’re due one, someday."

Ekko puffs a single beat of a laugh and walks over to her. "What you got in there?" he pokes the bag with his boot and feels like he's introduced his toes to a brick.

"Oh you know, just girl stuff."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Alright, it's paint. And ammo. Mostly ammo."

"What do you need..." he struggles to decide which to ask about, "...actually, I don't wanna know."

There's a brief pause and Jinx motions for him to sit next to her. He accedes and joins her side, though it's impossible to get comfortable on the piles of bullets in the bag.

“You were saying. About that meeting thingie.”

He shakes his head—she won't let up. "What’s there to say?"

She just glares at him and he gives up, hunching over his legs and propping himself up on them by his elbows, his eyes locked squarely on his boots. “Those people... they’re my people. Going in there and telling them I’m leaving, it’s like I betrayed them.”

Jinx waits for him to continue but he doesn't seem to want to. She studies his face, how it twitches slightly as thoughts run through his mind, how his lips are frozen slightly parted and his eyes are fixed at the floor, intense as if it’d wronged him in another life but distant enough to keep him from chasing it. 

She has to say something, she can't let him keep thinking like that.

“Ekko?”

“Jinx.” He turns his head to her.

She sits up and clasps her hands between his shoulders and neck. She can feel it. His muscles are tight under her fingers, frozen like gnarled, unyielding bark covering an old tree. They push back against her as he sucks in a breath that refuses to be let out, holding onto his chest like a vice. She brings her hands to the base of his neck, enveloping it, warming it, keeping him with her. She’ll learn every striation if she has to, find the end of every string of his mind. He’s not in this alone. She finally nudges his neck, breaking his trance and cocking her head when he turns to her. “You know they don't think that about you, right?”

A brief, suppressed breath finally escapes his nose but he otherwise doesn't dispute her. Jinx’s hold softens—maybe it’s working, just a little bit. But he’s not there yet, not as long as his mind is stuck here .

She pats his arm and stands up. “C’mon. Let's get outta here.”

Ekko blinks back into the present and pushes himself to his feet. He trundles about the room for a few seconds, taking too long to pick up his bag and hoverboard, pretending to check his things while his eyes sweep every nook and cranny, memorising it despite everything. Wind sweeps a scatter of leaves against the window, reminding him to sling his bag over his shoulder and tuck his board under his arm. He finally turns to Jinx, who's leaning at the door watching him with a hand on her hip and a patient smile.

He nods and sidles up to her, shaking his head at her almost overflowing duffle bag. “D’you really need all that?”

“Can’t a girl have hobbies?” she chuckles as she opens the door, grabs his hand, and they disappear into the night.

***

“This isn’t the way to the skyport,” he says as they hop across the rooftops.

“I just wanna show you something.”

He quickly recognises the route and they arrive at the rooftop overlooking the outskirts of Zaun, with the bridge stretching past it into Piltover. She sits down, her legs dangling over the side, then looks back at him and nods at the spot next to her.

“We've been here already,” he eyes her, confused but walking over anyway. 

“Duh,” she leans back, both hands planted on the grubby tiles behind her, “still a nice view, right?”

“Guess so,” he says flatly as he sits next to her, overlooking that damned bridge and that damned city beyond it.

“Shame about all the topside in the way,” she traps his hand under hers, her fingers locking into the gaps. She waves her other arm lazily ahead. “Wass that up there?”

He looks ahead at the stacks of steel and stone forming the skyline of Piltover, lording above the undercity like giant tombstones. They compete with each other for prominence up until the vast structure in the middle, dominating them all even when bearing the scars of war.

“Hextower,” he spits out. A dull throb crawls up his spine and reaches for the back of his head.

“Nuh uh,” she scoots closer, pulling their interlocked hands up to rest on his thigh, leaning her slender shoulder against his chiselled arm. “It's a battlefield, right at the top,” she points again, more sharply this time, “or was, anyway.”

He knows where this is going but she leaves no pause for him to interject.

“Lil’ birdie tells me some super handsome hero flew up there on his own,” Ekko rolls his eyes and lets out an audible sigh to no avail, “an’ yeeted a time machine at fortune cookie’s face. Bozo didn't know what hit him.”

“Tsch.” Ekko makes to stand up but Jinx yanks his hand back down. No getting away from this one.

“This whole place owes everything to you. Us and them included,” she flicks her eyebrows at Piltover in disgust.

He gives up but still doesn't look her in the eye. “What's your point.”

Her elbow nudges his arm and she gets up this time, waiting until he does the same.

“You don't get to forget any of it. Kapisch?”

He doesn’t say anything or even nod, just finally looks at her—clear, genuine. She pokes at the hoverboard with the tip of her boot.

“Fly me away.”

Chapter Text

A green blur keeps low under the heavy raised platforms of the skyport, just out of view of the few workers still mulling about in the darkness, bottles in hand.

“Can you loosen up a little? I can’t feel my ribs.”

She absolutely cannot. Jinx thought she could play it cool; Ekko had made flying these hoverboards look so effortless. But she’s currently clinging on to him for dear life as he zips them around with far less lateral stability than she would like.

“Just get us to the fucking hanger already,” she says with a hushed, unsteady voice, tightening her grip on his waist from behind.

“So you want me to go faster?” he taunts with a brief burst of acceleration and a quick look behind him, his grin catching her terror before she has time to mask it.

“I’ve brought my gun this time, don’t think I won’t use it,” she snarls, but the threat is immediately undermined by the muffled yelp she makes into the back of his scarf. He swings them almost fully sideways around the underside of an old dockyard, pulling up with a surging, fluid movement just onto the edge. They land in the shadow of a large hollow shelter and Jinx instantly jumps off, almost following her duffle bag in flopping unceremoniously onto the concrete.

Ekko steps coolly off the hoverboard as if it were a fluffy pillow, applying a little extra pressure to the front so the board can flip onto his back. “What’s the matter, I thought you flew an airship?”

“I swear if you try’n make me get on that thing again I’ll smash it in half over your head,” she grumbles, testing her footing on the now much more appreciated solid ground. Jinx has pulled plenty of stunts over the years, but as of today she’s decided she doesn't much like being a passenger to them.

He chuckles and scans their surroundings. “So where’s this airship?”

“Don’t know,” Jinx peeks into the empty hangar, scowls, then turns to Ekko with a grin, “But I know who can tell us.”

Ekko lets out an apprehensive sigh and follows her up a set of stairs running along the wall of the hangar.

“Jinx, is this—”

She kicks the door open and grabs the man inside by his collar, jolting him awake and throwing him off his chair onto the floor.

“Hey, what is this?”

“Zip it you slimy son of a bitch.” She punches the shipwright in the middle of his pudgy face. “Where’s the ship?”

“Please I don’t know, don’t kill me—” he coughs, blood snivelling out of his nose.

“The one that came in a few weeks ago all fucked up from your shitty repairs,” she presses the barrel of her handgun against his neck, her nose recoiling in disgust at the stench of sweat and liquor emanating from the blubber under his chin.

“It-it’s three lots across the yard in the—”

She knocks him out with the butt of the gun and jumps off, wiping her front down hurriedly. 

“Was that necessary?” Ekko grimaces at the sight of the man splayed out on the floor of the office, grimy cigarette butts scattered around the now collapsed chair. 

“Wish it wasn’t, he fucking stinks,” she gags and brushes past Ekko. “Come on.”

Ekko shakes his head and follows her back out of the building and across the docks. “Remind me what he did again?”

“He sold me a shitty ship. Well, I say sold...”

Ekko puffs his cheeks. 

“...it was more like calling in a favour,” she finishes as they reach the right hangar. Jinx fiddles with the lock, slams herself against the door and promptly bounces off. She balls her fists by her side and turns to Ekko, her frustrated expression flipping to a cocked head and puppy dog eyes.

“Oh mister big strong boy saviour, help a girl out? Please?”

Ekko wearily unslings his bat from his shoulder and aims it at the lock, breaking it with one swing.

“Thank youuuu,” she giggles and skips inside the hangar. Ekko peers in through the doors to find a huge, slightly battered looking airship that looks to have been patched with scraps, scaffolding still climbing up its side.

“If this ship is busted, why are we taking it?” Ekko calls out.

“I already put my mark on-” she comes to a dead stop at the top of the gangway, frozen in shock at the deck which had been shoddily scrubbed into smears of blue, pink, and green. “That scumbag! ”

***

The engines roar into life and the airship crawls out of the hangar, the top of the ship scraping along the ceiling. Lights switch on in the terraces lining the docks as the ship groans out in the dead of the night.

“You sure you can fly this thing?” Ekko yells over the unholy din.

“‘Course! I got here didn't I?” she yells back, tossing a pink smoke bomb over her shoulder into the hangar behind them.

“Then why is it so smashed up?” Ekko can barely hear himself over the engines as the ship pulls ever so slightly over the ground. 

“Oh, that's from the crash!” Jinx calls back in as close to a matter-of-fact tone as is possible when yelling at the top of her lungs.

“The what ?” Ekko thinks he heard the word... Hash? Cash?

“The crash! ”

“Rash?”

Jinx grabs his collar and pulls him to her side at the helm, yelling in his ear just as the airship levels off and floats away from the skyport, engines settling back into cruise power. 

“The CRASH!”

Ekko winces and pulls back, his face twisting into something between shock and mortal horror. 

“The... crash ?”

“Now ya got it,” Jinx flicks a nod and turns away from Ekko’s frozen face to the controls with a grin and not a care in the world.

Ekko eventually gave up trying to pry more about what had happened to the airship—every time he pushed the subject she keenly reminded him that he was the one who crashed their battle balloon.

The glow of the two cities fades away as they fly further out to sea, until the only light left is of the stars and moon casting themselves on the deck. Their chatter had died down after the initial excitement of stealing the airship wore off, settling into a brittle, unwelcome silence.  

Jinx casts a sidelong glance at Ekko. He doesn't notice it, still staring into the distance, into the canvassed sky and the pale illuminated peaks of the rolling waves below. She locks the helm and turns in her chair, pulling a leg up onto the seat and propping her head up on her knee. 

She pokes him with the tip of her boot. “Hey, space boy. What's eatin’ ya?”

Her voice cuts through the swelling breath of the sea. He releases a deep sigh, eyes still fixed ahead. “Nothing.”

“Must be a dreamy piece o’ nothing,” she drawls, keeping her eye on him. His brow is smooth and deceptively calm, but the serenity in his eyes is an illusion. They may be pointed at the horizon but are lost far, far beyond it.

Ekko finally turns to look at her with the same nervous smile she's wearing. “I just... haven't been away like this before.”

“I hadn't either,” she sighs, “but you'll get used to it.”

“Hmh.” his mouth twitches a little. “Did you ever get used to it?”

She huffs and a corner of her lips crooks. She thinks back to what Seraya convinced her she'd left behind in Zaun; who she'd left behind. The space between their chairs suddenly feels gaping, loathsome. “I thought I did.”

He nods a little, his pupils lingering where his eyelids had blinked down. “What changed?”

“I...” She stares at the damned gap and hugs her leg, “... I couldn’t stay there. It just wasn’t my place.”

“What makes you think it’ll be mine?”

Why did she say that? He's more devoted to Zaun than she ever was. He didn't even want to leave, however much he needs to. If anything she should be the one that has to get used to Ionia—she’s a danger to Zaun.

“I don't know...” she presses the side of her face against her knee, turning away from him, “You did all that with the sanctuary, I thought it'd feel more like home for you. It's nice there.” That's right. He deserves more than Zaun. He needs a break from Zaun. “I didn’t mean...”

“Hey, c’mere.”

There's that soothing voice again, those soft eyes beckoning her to join his side. Why does he always do that? She tries to hold off for a moment to no avail; as if she could resist shifting a few feet after she flew halfway across Runeterra to him.

She shuffles her seat to him and leans over, resting her shoulder against his. “I'm sorry.”

Ekko furrows his brow. “For what?”

She hunches in on herself. “I didn't mean to say it like that.”

“Heh, don't worry about it. Where I stay doesn’t matter anymore.”

She nudges his shoulder and reaches for his hand to give it a squeeze. “Cut it out.”

Ekko breathes in as if to argue but swallows it down. What's even the point anymore. For better or for worse—mostly the former—he's left Zaun behind in the most literal sense. Even if he can't truly accept leaving he can at least quit whining about it, for her sake.

“I think you'll like it out there,” she adds, slipping her arm between his, “it's pretty.”

“‘Cause you’ve been there?”

“Shut up.”

He chuckles and she follows suit. They give their eyes back to the hold of the horizon, swimming to it through the depths of the night.

***

Not every night could be like the first. They needed to sleep, even if neither of them were any good at it. But someone always had to be at the helm—they couldn’t trust the wind, nor the previous owner’s workmanship. So they took it in turns, one of them at the controls, the other trying to sleep in the tiny cabin at the stern. They both hated being alone like that, even if it was only a few yards rather than hundreds of miles like before. But it couldn’t be helped.

At least during the day they could be almost free. One of them still had to be at the helm, but at least the other didn't have to sleep. With Ekko flying, Jinx would paint everything and everywhere she could reach—the mast, the walls, the underside of the bulbous gas frame; she’d even hang off the edge and paint some of the hull, and every time Ekko would have to abandon the controls and pull her back, cackling all the way. She left the deck as it was though—the smeared paint had its own charm. 

With Jinx at the helm, Ekko would bring snacks, complain about the ship’s shoddy condition, and try to play pranks to get her back for her painting antics and highly distracting (most certainly intentionally so) flirting. Other times he’d sit beside her and work on his blueprints, though every time Jinx asked about them he’d brush them off as mere theories. 

And of course they’d talk. They’d talk and talk for hours and hours, about the now and the future. They’d talk about the ship, their ideas, their food, the nothings they’d pick up during the day. They’d talk about Ionia, what it’d be like, what they’d want to do together where and when and how.

But then the night would come and they’d be alone again. Sometimes they’d try to sleep in the other chair by the controls, but it would be futile when whoever was flying would inevitably scold the other back to bed.

Tonight it was Jinx’s turn to sulk back to the cabin; Ekko had heard her trying to settle on the floor behind his seat. Beyond the motley collection of implements they call the kitchen, the room is just barely big enough for a bed and a few small cabinets. She shuffles in and sits on the edge of the bed, watching the featureless clouds glide by the murky window.

Back again. Do shimmer freaks like you even need sleep?

She balls her fists in the patchy sheets, turning away from her disfigured reflection.

No rest for the jinx-ed, right?

She pulls her legs up to her chest and buries her face in her knees, trying not to look at Mylo’s apparition. 

You didn't even need to be near him to jinx him last time. Bet you'll do a better job now.

“Don't fucking talk about him!” she tries to sound fierce, but her voice only croaks out.

Don't need to. You'll take care of him.

“Shut up, shut up, leave me alone!” she pleads, as if she'd ever known mercy from Mylo’s taunting.

Sleep then. See how that goes for you .

Silence. Now she wishes he hadn't disappeared, then maybe she actually wouldn't sleep. She despises sleeping and everything that comes with it but Ekko will know, he'll know and he'll be disappointed.

She curls up into the thin covers and clenches her chattering teeth. She can't hurt him, not again, she'll do anything but that. Even sleep.

***

His hand rests easily on the wheel but his mind does anything but. He always worries about her, every night. When it’s his shift to fly he worries about her trying to sleep alone in that room. When it’s his turn to sleep he worries about her alone at the helm. He's relieved every time she comes to him to take over, every time he goes to her to take over, every morning they're unshackled from the darkness.

He doesn’t tell her of course, she'd scold him if he did. Saying she's fine and he should think about himself for a change. But whatever they say or don't say, they still know, they know each other like no-one else.

***

Spluttering engine. A taunting voice. Wind rushing in her ear. Shaking, the whole ship shaking and rattling. Splintering wood shearing off. He's still at the controls, trying to pull it up. Trying to save it. It's a lost cause, she says. Get away, she says. Pull back. Jump off. We need to fly away. She jumps on the board. Tries to pull him onto it. He reaches out. She reaches out. He snatches at air. Turbulence flings her away. The ship crashes. He crashes. He’s gone, it’s over, she’s lost him, she’s done it again.

Told you. You can’t help yourself.

Her eyes fly open, her chest heaving and panting, her fists clenched in the sheets.

***

A low eolian whine dominates the ship, only silenced by the soft beat of footsteps on the deck.

“You're early,” Ekko says as she rounds the back of his chair.

“Couldn't sleep.” She dumps herself on the seat beside him and instantly bites her stupid loose tongue.

“Oh... how come?” he takes in her tired eyes. Of course he knows, he always knows.

“It's the... bed,” she lies “It's like a plank of wood.” She hates doing that to him—she made him be honest, why can't she do the same?

He pulls an unconvinced smile but turns to look ahead again. “Can't see shit for these clouds.”

“Heh, yeah,” she forces a smile of her own, “you're getting us through it fine though.”

“I don't even know the way.”

“Whatever,” her elbow nudges his arm, “c’mon, my turn.”

He lets out a soft breath and budges over. But when Jinx moves to take his place he stays on the other half and pulls his arm around her back, cupping her shoulder and dipping his head slightly. “Sure you're ok? You could use a bit more shut-eye.”

As if there was anything she'd less like to do than sleep. “Outta here lil’ man.” She shrugs his arm off her and bumps her head against his neck. “Your turn to get a dead arm from that bed-shaped rock.”

He hums out a gentle laugh and stands up, letting the back of his hand linger behind her head before it glides off; she feels warmth flood every inch of the nape of her neck. She can hear him take off his jacket, feel it envelop her like an endless blanket. She tries to hunch under it, make it slide off, but he won't allow it.

"Stop it..."

He leans over her back. “It’s cold.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Jinx,” he whispers into her ear, “sometimes, or even just this once, I get to tell you to shut up.” 

She feels his lips graze her temple before he pats her shoulder and finally leaves. She huffs in frustration but can't help but let the jacket cover her, losing herself in its depths. Jinx breathes in its scent like her life depends on it; it's the oxygen feeding her lungs, the blood pumping in her heart and coursing through her veins.

For once she can handle the silence. She can handle anything like this.

***

He emerges from the cabin bleary eyed and with a slightly sore back, scanning the helm but finding it locked and the seat empty.

“Jinx?” Silence. “Where are you? And what have you done with my—” 

“Jacket!?” a mischievous voice calls from the washroom. 

Oh no. What has she done. 

“...yeah?”

Jinx giggles to herself, flings the door open and springs out from the side of the doorframe, hands on her hips and wearing a huge grin to go with the jacket she's stolen. 

Not that Ekko can see her hands. They’re buried in sleeves so bunched up they triple her silhouette. The hood is halfway down her face, covering eyes he knows are glowing with pride. The whole thing is puffed up and loose as if on a hanger, and Ekko is sure she could hide herself  under it entirely if she wanted to. What’s certain is that he’ll never lose it again—she's graffitied so many neon pink, blue, and green scribbles on it that it can probably glow in the dark.

“Surprise!” she trills, spreading her arms out to show off her handiwork, “d’ja like it?”

“I...”

Jinx doesn't wait for him to answer; she leaps across the room and into his arms, clinging onto him with her legs around his waist and arms around his neck. He staggers back but quickly finds his footing, to which Jinx practically squeals in delight.

“What are you...?” he asks as he cautiously tries to get a better hold of her.

“Jus’ making myself at home,” she chirps, twirling her fingers in Ekko’s white locs.

"This isn't what I thought you'd do when I lended you my jacket last night."

Pfft. 'Lended'. Maybe she’ll let him borrow it from time to time.

"Bummer,” she pouts, wriggling around for something in his jacket.

“Can I put you down now? My arms are cramping.”

“You calling me fat ?”

“No, that's not what I—”

“Sure you can,” she takes out a marker she'd stuffed into the jacket and pokes his chin with the back of it, “jus’ turn a little to the left first...” she makes a spinning motion with the end of the marker.

Ekko readjusts her again and turns slightly. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” she says, grabbing the top of his vest and rocking herself forward. “Heeyah!” She cackles and pushes him off-balance. He falls backwards on top of a sparsely padded bench by the kitchen with the jacket covering both of them and Jinx on top of him, who grabs his vest and seizes the opportunity to give his lips a big smooch, complete with cartoonish mwah . “Got ya!”

His face flushes instantly red when she departs, beaming at her string of victories. “You could have done that without pushing me over, you know,” he says breathlessly. Not that he hates anything about this, of course.

“Quit being picky,” she drawls as she grabs the top of his shirt to write her name in jagged pink between his collar bones. “There. Was that so bad?”

He sighs and looks up at her. It's just like that first night, her hair falling down around them, surrounding the both of them. She's a dream, the kind he’d longed to have after months of torturous nights. He doesn't know how he ever survived without her. 

“No,” he smiles, “guess not”.

“You big softie,” she smirks. However much she teases him, she loves getting him like this. For a few moments they don't have a care in the world. God knows they need it.

“Seriously though, can we get up? That bed was hard enough on the back and this bench isn’t much better.”

“I'll tell ya what else is ha—” he immediately pinches her lips together.

“Jinx!”

“Sawry, couldn't resist,” she giggles and pulls back, straddling him. He quickly sits up and she takes the opportunity to rest her head on his arm, her fingers circling the X on his chest. “So, you got any ideas for breakfast?”

“No,” he puffs, “I just got up.”

“Well have a look anyway, I gotta get back to the wheel,” she grins and hops off him, skipping away before Ekko can say anything and leaving him slightly dazed on the bench. She dodged that easily, as she always does.

Ekko climbs down the ladder to the hold where they'd stored sacks of food they'd taken from the shipwright’s hangar. He looks through the barrels only to be met with a rancid smell; rotten beans teeming with maggots meet his scrunched nose, and he quickly twists the opening shut to throw overboard later. Another bag is filled with sagging fruits, scarred blue and brown and at least a week past being edible.

He finds only a few small jars of unidentified preserved meat and bags of dry grains they can ill-afford to spare the water to cook. All in all, he estimates they probably only have enough supplies for a few days at best.

Jinx blames him for not checking the bags they stole and Ekko blames her for underestimating how much food they'd need for the journey. To which she replies it's his fault for eating so much, and he chastises her for eating so little. After a tense breakfast and a few short hours of sulking Jinx comes up behind Ekko on his afternoon shift at the helm.

She raps her fingers on his shoulders, leaning down slightly and cooing in his ears. “Oh Ekkoooo... are you still mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” He says, but his head is fixed forward and his voice slightly terse.

“Mhm... so if I do this...” she walks her fingers down to his chest and wraps her arms round him from behind “...you'll still be mad at me?”

“I already said, I'm not—” Jinx interrupts him by printing lipstick on the side of his neck.

“Alright alright, what's the big deal?” He turns slightly to look back in her direction. 

“Are we friends again?” she chirps, batting her eyelashes and cocking her head in an exaggerated—and highly successful—attempt to disarm Ekko’s attempt to play it cool.

He finally looks at her properly and concedes a smile. “Yeah, we are.”

They just look at each other’s stupid faces for a moment, then burst out laughing at their petty squabble.

“Alright, seriously, what’s up?” Ekko says, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

Jinx rounds the corner and kicks back on her chair, legs stretched out using Ekko’s knees as a footrest. She leans on the console and waves out at the sea in front.

“So what’re we doing about this whole food thing?”

He shakes his head, “I don't know, we only have a few days worth left. How far are we from Ionia?” 

She makes a confused face, “I dunno, probably less than a week.”

“Then we have to land as soon as we get there. We might be able to find something.”

“Hah!” She throws her head back. “You think we can just stop over at Ionian Jericho’s? It's like a Piltie back yard over there, nothin’ but green and trees. Could go days without sniffing a single soul.”

“We’ve got no choice,” Ekko sighs and looks out to the horizon again. “We have to figure something out.” 

***

They try to keep a strict heading to Ionia—or at least where Jinx thinks it is—while heavily rationing their supplies. Ekko would effectively force Jinx to eat, refusing to do so until she did. But sometimes it'd go the other way; while he wasn't as bad as Jinx, Ekko’s eating habits still hadn't fully recovered from when she left. He kept preparing the same portions for the both of them as if she was anywhere near his size. She'd protest, argue, even yell at him to be realistic but he wouldn't budge.

He wouldn't be like this if it wasn't for this damned ship. Maybe if she hadn't found it she wouldn't have left. Maybe she’d have checked on him and Vi, maybe she wouldn't have been so ignorant and selfish. He's like this because of her, she abandoned him, she did this to him. And now she's got both of them on the hook. They barely know where they're going and they'll probably starve to death. Every time she tries to fix one fuckup two more grow out of her eyes and rear their ugly heads. She's—

“Jinx! Come over here, quick!”