Chapter Text
It won’t go that badly, Vi thinks to herself as she steps foot into the Firelight base. She’s done scarier things than this. She’s fought in a war, for crying out loud.
This will be easy, comparatively. There’s nothing to be nervous about.
Of course, that doesn’t stop the jittery nerves that wrack her. Doesn’t stop her from flexing her hands, in and out of fists - but this isn’t something she can fight and claw and punch her way out of.
Vi knows she wasn’t always bad at talking things through. Of course, action has always been her preferred method, but certain situations call for a more delicate touch. She remembers comforting Powder when she was little, the ease with which those words came to her.
But things like that change when you get shoved into a cell for close to a decade.
Vi does her best to shake the thought off, put herself back in the now. The Firelight base is chaotic, like how the market district used to be when she was growing up, bustling with people. It makes it hard to seek out the person she’s looking for, but she knows where to go to find him.
No one pays her much mind as she walks through, towards the tree. It’s a bit weird: in Piltover, she’s the sheriff's wife; Caitlyn Kiramman’s partner. She’s a war hero. People stare at her; sometimes, they thank her. Vi never knows what to say when people do that.
She catches sight of bright hair through the crowd and she smiles to herself. Unlike topside, down here in the fissures, everyone’s the same. The grunts, the factory workers, the rebels. Even the leaders; even people like-
“Hey, little man,” Vi calls out. It’s easy to spot him in any room; he just sort of exudes this confidence that gets people’s attention. He’s hard to miss, so full of life and promise and optimism.
Ekko’s head snaps up, looking in her direction. She smiles when he catches sight of her, waving at him. He’s busy, it looks like, directing new refugees through the base, delegating tasks, looking after his people.
Despite it all, he quickly excuses himself, passing a clipboard over to Scar. They talk for a moment, and then he turns back to face Vi with a childlike enthusiasm.
“Vi!” Ekko exclaims, a surprised lilt to his voice. A smile lights up his face as he comes to greet her, arms outstretched, inviting a hug that Vi happily leans into.
When they pull away, Ekko’s smile has faded and he asks, almost reluctantly, “What’s the occasion?”
Vi knows that feeling - dread, that feeling that something’s wrong. She smiles to assure him and jokes, “Does there have to be an occasion to visit?”
Ekko shrugs a bit sheepishly, then says, “There just usually is.”
He looks shockingly young when he says that, and Vi is reminded of the goofy kid he used to be. Vi’s heart hurts looking at him, all grown up now - it’s times like this that reminds her just how much she missed.
“It’s nothing bad,” she assures, thinking of Caitlyn’s excited smile, and her own elation at the news. No, not bad news at all. Ekko raises a brow skeptically. “Gotta talk to you,” Vi says finally, “And Jinx. You know where she’s at?”
It’s an old habit to watch Ekko’s face carefully, to gauge his reaction, but he lights up at the mention of her sister, and just says, “Yeah, c’mon. She’s in her workshop.”
They make small talk as they walk through the base, and Vi marvels at how far they’ve come in the last seven years.
The Firelight base has expanded to encompass the majority of the Lanes, with Ekko being the de facto leader. The Hound of the Underground, the Eye of Zaun- they’re long gone, but Ekko doesn’t seem to have minded picking up where they left off. He needs something to do, and he’s good at being a leader.
The Boy Savior, indeed. Although, not much of a boy anymore. He’s filled out, gained some much needed muscle and fat now that he’s not starving himself to make sure there’s enough to go around. Now, there’s an abundance.
After the war and reformation of the council, now with Sevika representing the Undercity, came a tentative peace with Topside. At first, that mostly meant rebuilding what was destroyed in the war, but eventually it meant solutions to problems the Undercity had been facing for years.
Better than that was the funding to put those solutions in motion. Real solutions, like making sure the water and air in the Undercity is clean, that crops are unaffected and nutrient-rich. No more scrounging for food, or boiling water until it’s safe to drink.
The kids grow taller faster, don’t have gaunt-looking cheeks or wide, shell shocked eyes that have seen too much too soon. The adults smile more freely, and are willing to lend a helping hand.
Before Babette passed away three years back, she had commented to Vi that Vander would be proud of all they’ve accomplished. She hopes she’s right.
Twenty years ago, this wouldn’t have seemed possible. She wonders what Vander would think about all this; if this is what he envisioned for them, or if he was beginning to think it might never happen.
It’s not exactly the Machine Herald’s Utopia, but it doesn’t need to be. They’ve got a community down here, they help each other out.
Eventually, Ekko and Vi make their way to Jinx’s workshop. Ekko doesn’t bother with knocking, just lets them in, and a little bell jingles above their heads as they walk in.
It’s kind of a mess, but in an organized chaos kinda way. Spare parts here, blueprints there: all in the same spot, just in disarray.
They find her further back in the workshop, hunched over a workbench. She hasn’t noticed them yet, music playing a bit too loud and doing a fine job of covering their entrance. That's okay with Vi; it gives her a moment to just… observe her sister.
Her hair is tied back into a messy low bun, a few strands of purple streaking through. She’s let it grow out some since she shaved the majority off all those years back and when it’s down, it sits just below her shoulders. Like Ekko, she’s filled out a little, rid herself of the gauntness in her face. She’s still thin, but not toothpick skinny. She looks at ease; healthy.
Vi smiles - it’s good to see her this way.
Ekko nudges Vi’s shoulder, a playful smirk on his face that says Watch this. He heads to the radio and turns the volume down to a more suitable level, and Vi sees Jinx sigh dramatically.
“Ekko, come on, I told you-” she begins as she turns around in her chair, but pauses when her eyes land on Vi. “Hey,” she says instead of whatever she was going to reprimand Ekko for, happily surprised. Vi amends to make her way down here more often than her every other weekend visit and emergencies, if only to see that pleased look on her sister's face again.
“Hey,” Vi greets, reaching out to cup her cheek in her hand. Jinx leans into it, like she almost always does nowadays, but there’s a worried look in her eyes.
“Is everything okay?” Jinx asks as Vi pulls away. She wonders what it says about their family that the words Is everything okay? comes up in conversation faster than How are you?
Probably nothing good.
“Everything’s fine,” Vi answers, and it’s true. For once, everything is fine - it’s better than, and she thinks back on Caitlyn’s reaction to their news: happy tears, a disbelieving laugh. Vi has to work to not let her toothy grin break out across her face.
Jinx looks skeptical but turns back around to face her workbench, seemingly unconcerned now. Vi knows her sister, though, and knows she probably feels anything but.
“So, what’s up?” Jinx asks casually, fiddling with the project on her desk. Vi can’t tell what it’s supposed to be, but she was never the brains between the two of them. Jinx curses when something sparks, then asks, “Where’s Commander Cupcake?”
Vi ignores the nickname for her wife. “She’s working today,” she explains.
“Huh,” Jinx intones absentmindedly, “Didn’t think one of you could function without the other.”
“Jinx, c’mon,” Ekko admonishes, reaching for her tool, but she just waves him away. It’ll turn into a squabble fast - they might be dating, but they still grew up together and know exactly what buttons to press to rile the other up. She’s gotta get ahead of it before it gets to that point, so-
“I need to talk to you guys,” she says, somewhat haltingly. She can practically see her sister’s thought process come to a screeching halt before she turns around to face her, Ekko’s expression becoming carefully neutral. This is already going fantastic. “Nothing bad,” she assures, but Jinx and Ekko don’t look convinced.
“Are they revoking my pardon?” Jinx asks bluntly, picking absently at her nail. Vi jerks in surprise.
“What? No,” she says, and before Ekko can ask some equally ridiculous question, she blurts, “Cait and I are gonna have a baby.”
Both Jinx and Ekko’s eyes go wide. Then-
“Congratulations!” Ekko exclaims, pulling her forward into an embrace. She pats him on the back, but she can’t help but watch as Jinx’s face goes through a series of emotions before settling firmly on shock.
“You’re pregnant?” Jinx says, standing up, project forgotten about now.
“Not me,” Vi answers as Ekko pulls away, “Caitlyn. We got the news a couple weeks ago-”
“Weeks!” Jinx says, starting to pace. Not good.
“We just wanted to be sure before we told anyone,” she placates. That seems to do the trick, because Jinx stops her pacing and sits heavily in her chair; her sister knows they’ve had a hard time getting pregnant. Honestly, it’s been so long since they’ve talked about it, Jinx might’ve thought they’d given up.
But now there’s this… look on her face. Her eyes are distant like she’s somewhere else or maybe listening to something no one else can hear. Shit.
Ekko steps up next to her, places a hand on the back of her neck and squeezes lightly. Jinx sort of jolts, then stands all at once.
“Jinx,” Vi starts, stepping a bit closer to her. She reaches out to brush the tips of her fingers against Jinx’s arm, over her tattoos; puffy, blue smoke clouds.
Jinx steps out of both hers and Ekko’s reach, inching toward the front of the store, the door. “Congrats, sis,” she says, and she doesn’t quite say it in the same tone she’d said You deserve to be with her, and There’s no good version of me, but it’s a near thing.
Then, she slips out the door without another word.
It’s so quiet in the workshop now, the only sound being Jinx’s rock music left playing quietly. It feels oddly out of place.
“She’ll come around,” Ekko says simply, breaking the silence after a long moment, “She just needs a minute. It’s probably just hard for her, you know, since…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence but Vi doesn’t need him to. Since Isha.
Vi nods and tries to not let the guilt eat her alive.
“Pregnant,” Jinx mutters lightly, taking one of her throw pillows and tossing it to the floor. A little blue haired girl keeps standing in the corner of her room, darting out of sight as soon as Jinx turns to look at her more directly.
Ekko grabs the throw pillow on his side of the bed and places it more gently on the floor. He hasn’t let her out of his sight since she showed back up in the canteen for dinner. “You’re happy for them, though,” he states, eyeing her agitated movements, “Aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m happy for them,” she says, a little too sharp to be casual. She sighs, falls into the bed face first. Her voice is muffled by the comforter when she speaks, “It’s just…”
Doesn’t she want her sister to be happy, even if it’s with an enforcer? Of course, she does! Caitlyn’s… fine. They even get along these days. She knows they’ll never be sister-in-laws the way Vi would probably like them to be, but being civil with each other must count for something.
So, what is it “just”?
The bed dips next to her under Ekko’s familiar weight, and a hand smooths up her back. The feeling of a little hand, one she knows isn’t Ekko and knows isn’t really there, skitters up the back of her leg.
It’s just Isha.
“It’s been a little while since you’ve seen her,” Ekko says gently, reading her like a well-loved book, and she knows what he’s about to suggest. “Might help to see your mind healer again, maybe up your meds?”
Jinx sighs. When the council pardoned her six years back, it had come with a few conditions, one of which being council mandated mind healing. It was a load of horse shit, and Jinx hated every minute of it. Talk it out for an hour once a week, down pills until you’re a husk, surely that’ll help.
Once the period of mandated mind healing was complete, she stopped going all together. She had her meds that she took, and those helped plenty. She didn’t see anyone or feel anything that wasn’t physically there or happening. She’s a fully functioning member of society, or whatever. She’s fixed.
Was fixed, apparently.
Isha isn’t like Mylo or Silco. Much like when she was alive, she never says anything, just stands there, watching. And she’s a fast little booger, too, Jinx can never quite turn quick enough to see her face.
She misses seeing her little face.
Jinx feels her sometimes, though. She’ll stir from a dream and, in the between stages of sleep and wakefulness, feel the slight weight of a little body in her arms. There’s never anything there when she goes to hug her to her chest, and she wakes up feeling like she’s lost something.
(And maybe she’ll never admit it to anyone, but being able to say that to her mind healer and not get any sort of guilty reaction back… that had felt good. It felt good to not feel fucking crazy.
But she is, and everyone knows it, even if most people don’t treat her like it anymore.)
She rolls over, props herself up on an elbow and looks at Ekko. He mirrors her position, then reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. He looks at her, not like he understands, but like he sees her. All of her, broken bits and all, and still wants her. Still chooses her.
Jinx knows, deep down, that he’s probably right; he is more often than she lets him think. Could let him coddle her, tell her what he thinks she should do, and go back to her mind healer just to talk. But…
But her brain screams that it’s a failure to go back, that she’ll disappoint her family again, and she’ll just be what everyone thinks: a loose cannon waiting to blow.
“Baby?” Ekko asks quietly, getting her attention, and that’s what snaps her back. To him, Jinx is usually firecracker or the little lady to his little man.
She’s only baby when they’re getting it on or when something’s wrong, and nothing is wrong.
Jinx plants a hand on his chest, pushes him so his back is on the bed, and crawls over him. His eyes go wide and his breath stutters, and Jinx feels his hands run down her sides, landing respectfully at her waist. She holds in her scoff, leans down to his ear.
“Jinx-”
“Listen,” she says, low; sultry. She can feel Ekko tense under her, holding back. She bites back a grin, wishes he would just give into that reckless abandon like he sometimes does, and murmurs, “That shit doesn’t work.”
Then, she rolls back off him, gets up off the bed, and walks towards the door like nothing happened. He props himself up on his elbows, a flushed look on his face. It’s cute.
“Where are you-” he starts, adjusting himself.
“I’m a little worked up,” she says, ignoring the flash of blue that runs out the door before she can. “I’m just gonna blow off some steam in the workshop.”
“Oh,” Ekko stutters, confused, before falling flat back onto the bed, “Okay.”
The workshop is a hands-off zone; too many accidents or almost accidents have happened all because someone got a little too riled up and wanted to get frisky in the first place he could hole them up.
Somehow, Jinx is still the only one sporting nine of ten fingers.
Like expected, he doesn’t follow her out of their apartment, and she slips past her workshop and out of the Lanes all together, nighttime enveloping her like a cape.
The rattle of the chain and thumping of fists meeting leather is probably what gives Vi away. It’s not like she’s trying to be quiet, but it still rubs wrong that she got found out so quickly.
The list of places she would go isn’t that long, though, and her gym that Cait helped her open a few years after the war is probably the most obvious place. It’s closed for the night anyway - she’s allowed to blow off some steam here.
Plus, Vi thinks her wife could probably find her anywhere she could slink off to.
“How’d it go?” Cait asks, walking into the gym. She’s in her sheriff’s uniform, probably just got off work, and if her brain weren’t still swirling with worry over her sister, Vi would probably be ogling her. As it is, she just wipes the sweat off her forehead, loosens the wrappings around her wrists, and begins to tighten them again.
“It… went,” Vi answers evasively. Cait just hums in response.
“Not well, then,” she sums up. Vi rewraps her wrist tighter, gritting her teeth. “What went wrong?”
“Nothing went wrong, exactly,” she says, thinking about She just needs a minute, and the look on Jinx’s face when she walked out.
Vi’s seen Jinx with the kids who live in the Lanes, how sweet and funny she is. She’s gentle, she cares. Vi’s heart aches for her, the little moments she catches glimpses of every now and again: a longing look at a young mother and her kiddo, and how she sometimes looks very aged. Older than her 25 years should allow.
Vi wonders if she ever looks older than her 30 years. She certainly feels it.
But then she’ll nudge her sister’s arm and ask if she’s hungry, distract her until she’s ready to talk about it. Sometimes, Ekko will tip her chin up with a gentle finger, smooth a hand up to cup her cheek, say something too soft for Vi to hear. Either way, Jinx will smile that radiant smile, even if it’s still soft and sad around the edges and let them corral her thoughts.
She didn’t give them a chance to talk her down today, though, and Vi could see that aged look in full force. She should’ve been more careful, should’ve known that Jinx would take this hard; just one more thing Vi gets to have that her sister doesn’t-
“Stop,” Cait says, grabbing her wrist in a delicate hand, tearing Vi out of her thoughts. Vi’s fist falls open as Cait begins to unravel the wrappings.
Vi’s quiet as she watches Cait, chews on the inside of her cheek. About halfway through, the thought slips out: “Did I fuck up, like, massively?”
“Violet,” Cait sighs, taking the wrappings from her left wrist and putting them back into Vi’s duffle before starting on the other. Her ministrations are methodical, soothing, but Vi’s having a hard time focusing on that.
“I’m being serious,” Vi says, “Are we even ready to be parents?”
Cait raises a delicate brow, a smile quirking up the corner of her mouth as she teases, “Little late for this conversation now, isn’t it?”
But Vi won’t be deterred so easily. “C’mon, Caitlyn, look how I grew up,” she implores, then adds, “Look who raised me, and how I turned out.”
Cait sucks in a sharp breath. “Vander was a good man,” she says evenly.
“Well, yeah, but-”
“-And you turned out just fine,” Cait finishes, unlooping the wrapping around her fingers. She’s almost done, now. “But he shouldn’t have put all that pressure on you.”
“Exactly,” Vi says emphatically, begging Cait to understand her perspective.
“So?” Cait asks, finished unwrapping and glancing up at Vi. “Why should that matter for how we raise our children?”
She looks at Cait, feels that sinking pit open up in her stomach again. She sighs, unable to look at Cait when she says, “What if I…”
She can’t finish the sentence, like speaking it into existence has ever worked before. What if I fuck them up, too? Too much pressure got to Vi, it’s what sent them down this path in the first place. She loves Vander, but she couldn’t live with herself if she did the same to her kids.
A gentle hand nudges her chin up, and she meets Cait’s good eye. She smiles softly at her, then quietly says, “We’re not our parents, darling.”
Vi nods and Cait’s hand trails down her arm, tangles her fingers with Vi’s. Vi squeezes her hand tight.
“Let’s go home, hm?” Cait suggests, squeezing her hand back reassuringly. “You can visit them again tomorrow, get this all straightened out.”
Vi replies with a hum and slings her duffle over her shoulder after zipping it closed, allowing Cait to guide her home.