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Chapter Text

You grabbed the sides of your bag, curling inwards towards your body protectively. You had been in the Lanes before, but not this far in. The bass coming from the Last Drop was so loud you felt the vibrations through your feet, the lights flashing and bright enough to make you squint. This many people packed into the massive nightclub was making you feel sweaty and claustrophobic. The heat, the steady heartbeat of the music, it felt more like the club was a living thing than just a building.

This was undoubtedly the strangest place you'd ever been called in for a job.

Patrons were drunk, strung out, or both, ignoring you as you pushed past the throngs of people. You apologized quietly when you accidentally stepped on the foot of a dancing vastaya, but they ignored you completely. You made your way towards the bar - if anyone knew the ins and outs of a club, it was the bartender.

"What can I get you, sweet cheeks?" He barely glanced at you, giving one of the glasses a once-over with a stained rag. 

"I'm actually here for a job," you had to raise your voice to be heard over the music. "They said to ask for Sevika?"

"Ah, fresh blood," He looked down at you with pity. "Big gal on the stairs," he nodded over his shoulder to his right.

You mumbled a thank you, squeezing past dancing bodies and drunken flailing limbs. You recognized the woman as soon as you saw her. She was the one who'd handed you the letter offering you the job, and she wasn't a forgettable figure. Beautiful, enormous, easily towering over you. She shifted the cigarette between her teeth when she noticed you gawking at her.

"Didn't think you'd show."

It wasn't really an offer you could've afforded to refuse. This tutoring job paid big, a month of work enough for at least six months rent. You had accepted the job before she'd given you the address. The club owned by Silco, of all people. Which is why you felt your stomach churning and your hands trembling. If you fucked up here, odds were your torso would be found in a gutter somewhere.

She wordlessly lead you up the stairs. You followed her closely, and almost bumped into her when she stopped walking. The thumping of the nightclub was entirely muffled, and you idly wondered what they'd used for soundproofing.

You considered turning and running. Maybe you could return to your dad's place, he'd be fine with hiding you.

No, you reminded yourself. Silco has eyes everywhere. Your throat would be slashed by morning.

Sevika opened the last door down the hall for you, hinges squeaking slightly. You tried to swallow through your dry throat as you stepped in, eyes wide and taking in your surroundings.

The room was large, but sparsely decorated. A large window overlooked the city below, a pristine polished desk in the center of the room. The high-backed chair swiveled slightly at your entrance. 

You were looking at the profile of a man. A wiry man with sharp features, a strong overbite and hooked nose. He wasn't what you expected. There was no way this was the man who had the entire undercity under his thumb, whose mere mention sent your blood running cold.

And then, he spoke.

"You're late."

His voice was effortlessly intimidating. Dripping from his mouth like honey, carefully measured, but gravelly enough around the edges to command your attention. He was definitely Silco.

"I - yes, sir, I'm sorry," you bowed your head slightly. "It was really crowded, I had a hard time finding - "

"I see." He finally swiveled to face you, though he hadn't broken his intense gaze. The left side of his face was heavily scarred, his left eye completely mismatched with his right. Bigger, black. You wondered if he could see from it.

Now that you'd gotten a closer look, he was older than you'd initially realized. The bags under his eyes, worry lines, hair greying at the temples. It made him look more...experienced? Mature, maybe. Like he knew what he was doing.

"Jinx, dear," he called, not taking his eyes off you, "We have a visitor."

A streak of blue dipped down from the ceiling, quickly followed by the thud of a person dropping onto Silco's desk. Papers and coasters scattered across the floor. You yelped, taking a step back at the sudden noise. 

The girl snickered at you, crossing her legs and staring at you with a similar intensity to the man behind her. She was waifish, dressed in belts and chains like any Undercity kid. Couldn't have been older than thirteen. Her braids were so long they fell past her knees, hanging lazily off the side of the desk. 

"This is my daughter, Jinx," Silco said, unbothered by the papers landing on his lap.

"Nice to meet you," you said weakly. You held out your hand and offered the teenager your name. Your heart was still beating unbearably fast.

"I don't need another tutor," she murmured, scratching at her painted fingernails. She didn't bother returning the handshake.

Silco sighed, finally ripping his gaze away from you. You immediately realized how tensely you'd been holding your shoulders. "You need an education."

"No, I don't," she said, though her tone wasn't harsh. "Kids my age are already working the mines."

"I'm just going to be asking her some questions today," he closed his good eye, and you realized with some unease that the other didn't seem capable of closing at all. It was staring a hole into you. "And you two can...get to know each other later. Go downstairs, get yourself some dinner."

She nodded, pouting slightly. She gave you both a weary glance before shutting the heavy door behind her. You were left in silence, alone with the most dangerous man in the Undercity. You fiddled with the sleeves of your shirt, unsure of what to do. All he was doing was staring. Looking up at you, hands folded in front of him on the desk. He wordlessly tilted his chin towards the chair opposite him, and you sat down. 

"She's adorable," you offered clumsily. He blinked, his face remaining neutral.

"Thank you," he said, without any warmth behind it. You figured he was used to people offering him meaningless praise to get what they wanted. He leaned forward slightly, putting pressure on his elbows. "Under normal circumstances, I would not allow someone from Topside near my daughter."

You weren't surprised he knew where you were born. He'd likely done a thorough background check on you. 

"However," he continued, cutting a cigar and placing it between his uneven teeth, "These have been...delicate times. I would like Jinx to have a proper education, and she has had issues with her previous tutors." The sound of his lighter flicking open and lighting his cigar punctuated the silence. 

"What kinds of issues?" You asked, though were still unsure if he wanted you to be speaking or not.

"Complaints," he took a drag of his cigar, "From the tutors, naturally. They call her uncooperative, disruptive." A frown tugged at his mouth, his eyebrows twitching downward. 

"That's a common complaint among Undercity kids. But it's usually just because a lot of them learn differently. They spend years being kicked around by Pilt -- Topside," you quickly corrected yourself, "so naturally, they aren't fans of authority."

He grunted in vague agreement. "Jinx will be working for me when she's a bit older, but until then I would like her to be taught some of the basics. She knows a fair bit of English, in reading and writing," he leaned back in his chair with a sigh, "But I'm afraid the finer points of math are lost on me. I am a child of Zaun, after all." It made sense. Most Undercity children were barely literate, taught by their parents who often had no education for themselves. 

Silco fished around his desk, pulling aside a document and reading through it. "You are quite young," he said, not looking up from the paper, "But come highly recommended. Moved to the Lanes when you were fourteen, a decade ago..." He seemed to be more reading it to himself than to you. "Spotless record." A quick breath escaped his nose, almost a laugh. He might as well have called you a goody two-shoes.

The room became silent once more. He shifted through a few more of your documents, mismatched eyes scanning them quickly. You sat unmoving, afraid to speak or look at the man.

"I assume the payment Sevika discussed with you is adequate?"

"Yes - more than enough. Even half that amount would be generous."

He nodded. "Due to the...rate of turnabout here, we will be paying per lesson. But it will add to the agreed upon amount. Two times a week, as discussed. I will be supervising your first lessons." The unspoken warning behind his words, to make sure you treat my daughter correctly.

"So I should...come back here tomorrow?"

"Yes. Three sharp. The guards know your face, they will let you in."

His eyes flickered towards you one last time before he went back to signing forms. You took that as your cue to leave, gingerly getting out of your seat and retreating to the door. You paused with your hand on the knob. 

"Have a good night," you said.

He blinked at you, but did not respond.

You set your bag down next to your bed, sighing and falling backwards onto your scratchy sheets. 

Working for Silco. You really were an idiot.

Then again, he'd trapped you. If you declined the offer, he might not be happy with you. You'd end up with Jinx's old tutors, probably at the bottom of a mine. 

You stared at the ceiling of your apartment, looking through the holes to the world outside. Your apartment was mid-tier for the Undercity, but it didn't even come close to being as nice as the cheapest living spaces in Piltover. You remembered how big and clean the house you grew up in was. Still, you weren't sure you would want to go back, even if you could. There were kids who needed help, and people in Piltover would treat you horribly if they knew you'd lived in the Undercity.

You made vague plans to visit your dad. He lived closer to the bridge, in the nicer part of town - relatively speaking. He'd give you an earful for working with someone as dangerous as the Eye of Zaun. You chuckled to yourself as you fell into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

You were a little less nervous your second time squeezing in between the heated writhing bodies of the Last Drop regulars.

A little.

The bodyguards wordlessly stepped aside and gave you access to the stairs, before you even opened your mouth to speak. You muttered a thank you before trudging your way up. 

You could hear Jinx's giggles muffled behind the heavy mahogany door. You gingerly rapped your knuckles against it, and there was silence, followed by the rumble of Silco's voice. "Come in."

You poked your head in sheepishly, like you hadn't just been given permission to enter. "Am I too early?"

Silco's eyes darted to you momentarily before returning to his work. "A bit."

Jinx was sitting on one of the arm rests of his chair, leaning her cheek on the top of his head, her legs swinging idly off the side. She pouted slightly when you looked at her.

"Sorry, I didn't want to be late again," you said a bit too quietly. "I can - um, I can wait out in the bar if you want, I'm not trying to interrupt anything, just didn't want to be late again but my commute was much faster this time, and I..." you bit your lip. You were doing that thing again, where you got nervous and started babbling nonstop.

Jinx gave you a look. Like she was wondering what the hell you were on. Silco just rolled his eyes.

"Go make yourself comfortable," he said to his daughter. She half-skipped across the room, laying back dramatically on the sofa with a sigh. Something about how animated she was made her very charming.

You tried to clear your mind, fully aware of Silco staring daggers into the back of your head. Just treat her like any other kid, you told yourself. Let her tell you how she likes to learn.

Undercity kids weren't as bad as their reputations led them to be. They were often sick, angry, grieving. Upset at the circumstances they had been handed. It was understandable. Most of them really just needed someone to listen, but the lack of qualified educators and the cyclical system of child labor in the Undercity made everything difficult.

Sitting beside her, you grabbed a few papers from your bag. Jinx's cheek was squished up against her hand and her voice was deadpan when she looked over to you. "What are you making me learn first?"

"Actually, I want to know a little about you."

Her eyebrow arched slightly. "Like what?"

"What do you like to do?"

Jinx squinted, like she thought you were pulling her leg. When you didn't say anything, she huffed. "I'm...not good at anything."

"Says who?"

She looked at you like you had three heads. "Um, says every tutor he's brought up here?" She pointed at Silco, who you knew was still watching intently.

"Everyone's good at something. What do you do when you're not hanging out with your dad?"

The girl pursed her lips for a moment before she answered. "I...like to build things." Her arms were crossed, her legs pulled up to her chest. Her body language was very obvious and free, unlike Silco's, who seemed reserved and careful with every movement.

"What kinds of things?"

Jinx shrugged, still in her defensive posture. "Lots of stuff, I guess. I like to build traps, grenades, bombs, weapons...sometimes I put paint in them, or smoke, or glitter..." she finally cracked a smile. "My room is covered in splatter."

You nodded. "That drive your dad crazy?"

"It does," Silco's voice came from behind you. You held back a smile while you looked at Jinx, and you could see she was trying not to laugh.

"So, it sounds like you'd have a natural talent for chemistry and physics," you jotted down a few notes, "We can start with those."

"Uh, ok."

"They both involve a little math," you said, ignoring the gagging noise she mimed at the mention, "But I think you'll find the results outweigh that part."

When she didn't look convinced, you added, "You'll get to blow stuff up."

That seemed to appease her.

"Now, what's X here?" You tapped the page with your neat handwriting at the top. 2X = 22

"Again?" she whined. She was being stubborn, but you had a job to do. 

"Last one, I promise," you said, tapping the page. Jinx frowned and hesitated, before scratching her bright pink pen across the page. X = 11

"Nice job," you smiled at her. She'd just begun pre-algebra that day, and she already had the hang of the basics. She was still behind, but she was a fast learner - she'd be back on track soon. "You've got this down already."

She huffed, the air blowing her hair out of her face. "It's easy," she muttered. "Topsider kids are dumb if they can't figure this out."

Jinx's stomach growled, loudly. She snorted, leaning back on the couch and tossing her pen in the air, catching it with one hand. "I think it might be snack time," she said over to Silco, who was still signing papers.

"I believe your lesson is over," he said, moving papers from one stack to the other. "It's been nearly three hours."

The teenager stretched her arms over her head with a grunt. "That works too." She hopped off the couch, cracking her back a bit too loudly. "I'm gonna go get some dinner, you'd better eat soon too!" Her voice took a lecturing tone as she wagged a finger at her father. He didn't respond.

Jinx stopped mid-step to look at you.

You smiled at her. "You're out of math jail, go eat. We can pick this up again tomorrow."

The corner of her mouth twitched as she shut the door behind her. You turned to look at Silco, who had stopped his paperwork and was lighting a cigar. He looked at you with practiced neutrality. 

"She's a fast learner," you said, stacking your notes and placing them into your bag. "She'll be ready for basic algebra before the week ends, I bet."

He hummed, a quiet noise, but one of approval nonetheless. He leaned back onto his chair, three perfectly formed smoke rings escaping his mouth. 

"Never could make rings," you commented while you brushed pencil shavings off the table and into your cupped hand. 

"It's all in the lips." It caught you off-guard a little, you expected him to ignore you. You simply hummed back, unsure of what to say. You crossed the room to toss the shavings into a small wastebasket, and you felt his eyes on you the whole time. 

"I have a cleaning staff, you know."

"I didn't want to be rude, it's just some shavings," you said with a shrug.

It was still up in the air whether he'd get annoyed with you and have you killed. He wasn't exactly friendly with you, but he hadn't been outright threatening or vicious. It was odd, the image you had of him in your mind was so different compared to the man who sat across the room from you. You hadn't caught a glimpse of his infamously poor temper, or his cruelty. Even the way he leaned back, crossed his legs, and took a drag of his cigar -- every movement was graceful and smooth. 

You realized too late that you were staring. He cocked an eyebrow, infected eye staring fire into you. Quickly, you looked down at the floor, clearing your throat. "I'll be back tomorrow. Is it okay if I bring some household chemicals to show her a few reactions? They won't stain anything."

"That should be permissible," he said, the smoke swirling lazily out of his mouth. He tossed a bag of coin at you, which you barely grazed with your fingers, watching as it fell to the floor with a clang. You felt your cheeks flush, quickly picking it back up.

"Thanks," you muttered, self-consciously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Afraid of overstaying your welcome, you shoved the money into your bag, leaving his office and the bar behind you.

Chapter Text

You squinted at the sun blaring through the holes in your worn curtains, like if you gave it the stink eye for long enough it would go away. You stayed up extra late outlining a very basic lesson plan for Jinx, and scrounged up some household supplies that could be used for little experiments. 

You were still unsure of what to do about teaching her physics. That was not your forte, not even your dad knew a whole lot about it. Piltover's academies were making great strides in that area specifically, so the thought came to you that you might need to cross the bridge and see what their libraries had to offer.

It wasn't fun going back. But it was a necessary evil sometimes.

You liked Jinx, you decided. She was entertaining. She had the tendency to lose focus, and talked back a lot, but you didn't mind. She was funny and sharp.

Her father, however...you had no idea what to feel. He still made you nervous, but you were curious. His demeanor -- hell, his whole face -- changed when he was talking to his daughter. He looked like a different person. You wanted to know which was the real Silco, or if they were truly both him. 

For now, I'll settle for him not wanting me dead, you thought to yourself as you hobbled towards the bar. You held a large tub with your extra supplies in it, but carrying it all the way to the Last Drop seemed easier in your head. 

Pushing the door open with your hip, you struggled to pass the tight group on the dance floor, using the bin as a sort of battering ram.

When you emerged from the crowd, you saw Sevika leaning against the bar, her poncho barely covering the hard coil of muscles at her hip. You made eye contact, and she crossed the room to grab the bin for you. 

"Thanks," you said, feeling your arms ache. 

"Going up?" 

You nodded and followed her up the stairs. "Still working here, eh?" she asked. 

"Not dead yet," you chuckled nervously.

"Kid, if Silco wanted you dead, you'd be dead. You can relax a little."

Weirdly enough, you felt reassured. 

Sevika pushed the doorknob down with her elbow, the door to Silco's office swinging open. He didn't look up - Sevika was the only person bold enough to open his door without knocking, you figured. She set the tub down next to the sofa, giving you and Silco a nod.

"Thank you, Sevika," you said, rubbing the skin at the back of your neck. She gave you a wink before walking to Silco's desk, grabbing one of his cigars and flcking it in between her teeth.

"I can have your knees broken for that," he said, though his tone was...light? You didn't think Silco was someone who joked.

"Who else is gonna protect your scrawny ass at 3 AM?" Sevika grinned around the cigar, turning on her heel to leave. She shut the door behind her louder than was necessary.

Silco was still looking at his papers when you turned to look at him. He seemed less intent on watching your every move now that you'd been in his office a few times. 

He was wearing new clothes that day. It was the same palette of burgundy and dark grey, but he was in a freshly-tailored vest, gold trimmed accents and perfect buttons, his cream tie spotless. Looks like his Shimmer business pays well, you mused.

"Where's Jinx?" you asked. As soon as the words left your mouth, the girl dropped from the ceiling and onto Silco's desk again, making you jump back.

"That never gets old," she snorted, pushing herself off the desk and knocking more of Silco's work around.

"It does for my paperwork," he muttered. You laughed, and the noise made his eyes dart to you for a fraction of a second.

"You making me do more math today?" Jinx asked. She was idly biting at the skin on the side of her thumb.

"Unfortunately," you nodded, dragging the tub in front of you, "But first I'm going to do a little experiment. Do you know about the periodic table of the elements?"

"I guess," she said, still picking at her thumb, "I know everything is made of the elements, except for magic."

"Magic and hextech are way too new to try and make a lesson plan around," you admitted, "So let's just stay with the basics for now." It was a bit difficult to be teaching science when one of the most important discoveries in the entire continent had recently been made right above you.

You cleared your throat. "Anyway, since you know about the elements, do you know about acids and bases?"

She pursed her lips before answering. "Acid is the thing you melt people's fingers in."

You laughed. "Sometimes. Actually, almost all liquids are acids or bases, but there are some neutrals," you fished out a piece of scrap paper, making a simple chart. "From the strongest acid to the strongest base, they all fall somewhere on it."

Your train of thought took a pause when you heard footsteps behind you. Silco was headed towards his office door, rolling down the sleeves of his shirt. You hadn't noticed how long his legs were when he was behind his desk all the time. 

"I have a meeting," he said simply, draping a thigh-length coat over his shoulders. It made his silhouette look a lot wider. "I should not be gone longer than an hour." He gave Jinx a quick kiss on the top of her head before leaving.

"Be safe," she called after him.

She was chewing the inside of her cheek, her eyes downcast and her eyebrows drawn together with worry.

"You worry about him a lot?" You asked, mentally smacking yourself for such a dumb question.

She shrugged. "I don't like feeling alone."

"I didn't like when my dad went to work either," you offered weakly. She just gave you a grimace.

"What about your mom?"

You set your pen down, turning on the couch a bit to face the teenager. "I don't remember her much. She died when I was pretty young."

"Mine, too," she said. It was quiet, then. Jinx stared into the corner of the room, barely even blinking. As quickly as she'd started, she snapped to attention, looking at you with wide eyes.

"You're a topsider, ain'tcha?" The question was abrupt, and it took a second for you to answer.

"I - yes," you nodded. "I moved down here when I was a teenager. How'd you know?"

She perked up a bit, her eyes shining and the corners of her mouth turning up. "Your teeth, only topsiders bother getting dental work. You have a knife, but it's in a holster. Only Pilties let people know where you keep your weapons. Aaaaaaaaaaand," she rocked forwards towards you, "You're too fussy about your clothes."

"You're an observant kid, Jinx." Ignoring the word fussy, you turned back to the paper, intent on resuming your lesson. Jinx apparently wasn't done yet.

"Ever think about moving back?"

"Not really," you said with a frown. "I'm too used to living down here, and I don't have any friends or family Topside."

"Used to sneak up there, hide from Enforcers."

"Are you trying to distract me from teaching you?"

"Who, me?" she looked up at you through her lashes, looking as innocent as possible. You both started laughing before she could keep it up for too long.

"Now, pour in the vinegar," you said, handing the container over.

Jinx nodded, turning it over a little too quickly, watching as the solution began to bubble and spill over.

"When the baking soda meets the vinegar," you said, quickly scribbling on a spare piece of paper, "It makes carbonic acid, which decomposes into water and carbon dioxide. And that's the foam you're seeing."

Jinx's smile fell as the solution shot out a few centimeters past the beaker. "That's it? I can make a better explosion with my eyes closed."

"Sorry," you wiped off the spill that had gotten onto the table, "I promised your dad I wouldn't ruin his office."

"Appreciated," The low gravel of Silco's voice made you jump, your heart leaping into your throat. You had no idea how he'd managed to open his office door without you hearing it. 

Jinx frowned at him. "You're late."

He sighed, shrugging off his coat and hanging it in the corner. He rolled the sleeves of his   shirt up to his elbows. The late afternoon light pooled through the office window, showing a particularly prominent vein running down his underarm. "Dealing with those paranoid power-hungry idiots is...unpredictable," he said, pouring himself some bourbon.

You smiled to yourself at the idea of Silco calling someone else power-hungry.

Silco sat at his desk, very slowly swirling his drink. The ice clinked against the glass in a peaceful rhythm.

"Is there, um, any place I can show her some more extreme reactions?" You asked in his direction.

"Yeah, I wanna blow stuff up!" Jinx hopped up, miming an explosion with her arms.

"I think you're quite adept at that already," he said lightly, leaning back and taking a drink, "But I may be able to arrange something."

"Thank you," you didn't know why you were so unnerved. You hadn't ever seen him eat or drink. In a way, it humanized him.

"Lesson's over, right?" Jinx shifted anxiously on her feet. "I wanna get down to Jericho's before he closes."

Silco hummed. "I was gone longer than I realized. You're free," he set his drink down, "But wear a jacket."

She gave him a mock salute before turning and sprinting away. You smiled.

Unceremoniously scooping your supplies back into the tub, you weren't sure what to say. You could feel Silco's eyes on you again, but were too nervous to turn around. 

Sure enough, when you gathered the courage to face the table, you could see him from your peripheral vision. One hand holding his glass, the other quietly thrumming its fingertips against the desk. Staring.

He noticed you looking. He gestured towards the chair across from him, and you sheepishly sat, fiddling with the end of your skirt. Silco cocked his head to the side slightly - not just looking at you, studying you. 

"Would you like a drink?"

The question caught you off-guard. "I'm not much of a drinker." Not entirely a lie. You didn't want to even think about how expensive that bourbon was.

A quick exhale from his nose, almost a laugh, but his face remained carefully neutral. 

"Of course," his voice dripped with condescension. "Your body is a temple, unlike us degenerate Zaunites."

"What? Just because I don't want to drink before going home I think I'm better than you?"

His eyebrows raised the slightest bit in surprise, like he wasn't expecting you to stand up for yourself. "I know how Topsiders are. And your spotless criminal record speaks for itself. A saint. Surprised you aren't in Ionia, healing sick children and reading to the blind."

You could tell he was trying to get a reaction. Toying with you. A cat batting around a mouse before going in for the kill. He watched you with an amused glimmer in his eye, cutting one of his cigars while the uncomfortable silence settled over the both of you.

"Just because I never got caught," you shrugged, "Doesn't mean I haven't dipped my toes into the criminal pool." Again, not entirely a lie. Some shoplifting, fist fights, underage smoking. All pretty typical for a teenager in the Lanes. Rites of passage, even.

"Well, well," he said around the cigar, "Looks like our little Piltie might have some potential after all." He flipped his lighter open, taking a few short puffs to help the end light. You tried to ignore the burning on your cheeks and the tips of your ears. A surge of anger and embarrassment. Why was he trying to humiliate you? Test you? Maybe it was his way of weeding out the weak.

Silco took a slow drag, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth. He leaned forward, looking you more directly in the eye. You felt your pulse quicken.

"Why did you decide to work for me? Scratching that proverbial itch?" 

"Actually, I was afraid you'd kill me if I didn't take the job."

He held a bony hand to his chest in mock hurt. "I'd never kill someone for such a petty reason."

You raised your eyebrows pointedly at him.

"Fair enough. I would. But I have no plans on killing you," he said with a wave of his hand. "You've done nothing to slight me."

He continued to smoke, the heady scent making you feel a little dizzy. It wasn't your favorite smell, but you didn't dislike it, either. There was a spicy, pleasant aroma under the burning. You weren't sure how long you both sat there, looking at each other, daring the other to speak. 

"For what it's worth," Silco's voice cut through your thoughts, "I find you..amusing."

Chapter Text

You woke up entirely too early for your day off. You attempted to sleep in, but your brain decided it was ready to buzz with ideas, so you stubbornly rolled your way out of bed.

Your mind was awake, but your body most certainly was not, stumbling around your apartment in a nauseous fog. You'd decided on crossing the bridge to Piltover that day, and the prospect didn't exactly have you jumping for joy.

You grabbed a box from under your bed, the one containing your fancy Topsider clothes. They were basic enough to always be in fashion, but didn't scream "Undercity" like your wardrobe had been lately. You stepped into your pristine boots, lacing them up the front, and adjusted your bodice. You made sure your hair was done neatly before throwing your cloak over yourself and jogging down the apartment stairs.

Typical for early mornings in the Undercity, there weren't too many people out. You kicked some small pebbles across the cobblestone with the heel of your boot as you walked. The walk through the dilapidated apartment buildings to the busier main street was a familiar one. It was a particularly crisp morning. Throngs of Shimmer addicts were huddled around fire pits. They made you remember what Silco was responsible for.

The initial crossing of the bridge was always nerve-wracking. You kept your head down, attracting as little attention as possible, until about halfway. You then quickly stuffed the cloak into your bag, blending in with the other Topsiders.

Everything was just so painfully, pristinely white. White marble, white brick, white tile. As a child, it all seemed magnificent and impressive. Now, it just seemed fake. Blissfully ignorant of any problems below.

The smell of the bookstore gave you some comfort. It was the same one you remembered from your childhood, and hadn't changed much. The earthy scent of used parchment, lingering sweetness from the bakery next door. Shiny wooden shelves still lined its walls, new releases packed on tables near the front door. Far larger than any shop in the Undercity. 

A quick once-over of the new releases showed book after book on hextech. A classically handsome man with strikingly white teeth smiled back at you from the hardcovers. "Featuring a foreword from Jayce Talis," they all boasted. You couldn't bring yourself to care about whoever the hell he was.

You made your way to the nonfiction half of the store, towards the back. Luckily enough, no salesperson had come up to bother you. You were free to thumb through the volumes of books without trouble.

Eventually, you decided on an algebra workbook for Jinx, and a few used Academy textbooks on physics for yourself. Couldn't hurt to brush up on your knowledge, you thought. Under your arm was a volume on Freljordian religion for your dad. 

The cashier was someone you'd gone to school with. You know she recognized you too, by the look on her face, but she said nothing. Not that you expected her to. She stoically dropped your purchases into a heavy paper bag. It cost more than a handful of gold, but Silco's coin meant you could afford it.

The smell of the bakery was too much to resist, so you went next door, reveling in the atmosphere. Warm and heavenly,  the smells of fresh cinnamon and vanilla luring you to the cases of goods. 

"Hey, sugar," a woman behind the counter called to you. You gave her a smile before turning to the glass display. Everything looked so damn good. Noxian-style sweet rolls, cinnamon buns the size of your head, cupcakes with little Yordle faces drawn on them. You settled on a bag full of fruit pastries, fresh bread, and an obscenely expensive box of imported Ionian tea. 

Hands full with purchases, you began your walk back to the bridge. It was always a little unsettling going down the streets of your old neighborhood. A few shops moved, but the rest remained unchanged. The buildings still stretched too far into the sky, gold and white marble shined too much and made your eyes squint. You felt a mix of nostalgia and lingering bitterness. You took a few bites of pastry, if only so your mind could focus on something else.

It was a bit of a relief when you rounded the corner and saw the bridge back to the Undercity. You threw your cloak back on and walked a little faster. There were probably half a dozen people standing idly around - it was a popular destination for employees on their smoke breaks. 

About halfway down the bridge, you felt an arm roughly grab your shoulder. You reached for your knife in self-defense, heart jumping out of your chest. 

"Careful." She grabbed your wrist with practiced ease. 

"Sevika?" You sputtered, adrenaline pumping through your body, blood pounding in your ears. 

You heard your own name, in that honeyed voice you found all too familiar. Sevika turned and shoved you towards the rail of the bridge, where Silco stood in his coat. He looked furious. The muscles of his jaw set and still, fists balled at his sides, his eyes burning a hole into you. 

"Sir?" 

He repeated your name, and in two steps stood closer to you than he'd ever been. You took a quick look around and realized the bridge was full of people you recognized from the Last Drop. Maybe it was finally time he was going to kill you.

He looked you up and down, his frown deepening. "Have a nice visit?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Piltover," his voice was filled with venom. "Who did you tell about Jinx? Enforcers?"

"What the FUCK are you talking about?" you repeated. You had to crane your neck to see his face, and he looked down at you with such rage that it terrified you. It was finally a real glance of the man everyone feared. 

"I've had my people watching you," his voice got eerily quiet. "Waiting for you to get your chance to sprint on back like a good little Topsider lapdog. I won't ask again - who did you tell?"

"Y - you're being ridiculous," you said. Your adrenaline was overruling your survival instincts. His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. "I went to buy books," you held up the paper bag from the shop, "for your daughter. Why would I go out in broad daylight to rat you out? So you can throw me into the fucking river?"

You heard Sevika snicker behind you. Silco's jaw was still tense, but his eyes were darting around to his bodyguard, to you, to your bag of books. 

"You didn't mention her to anyone?" He finally took a step back.

"No," you were still upset, but you tried to keep your voice even. "I said maybe four words to the cashier, and none of them were about you or your daughter or the Undercity."

"I have no reason to believe you."

"What fucking Piltover bigwig is going to listen to me? I'm just some gutter rat from the Lanes."

You could see his tongue run along the inside of his cheek. Sevika scoffed from behind you, and you saw her walk to the other side of the bridge with a pack of cigarettes.

"I will have this looked into." Silco's shoulders began to relax, but he still looked at you with suspicion. "I would suggest keeping your head down, for your own sake." He walked past you, leaning on the railing of the bridge and lighting up another cigar.

The smart thing to do would have been to retreat back to your apartment, grateful you hadn't been stabbed. But you were still so angry it clouded your judgement. You followed him, ready to give him a piece of your mind. He met your eyes when you joined him at the railing.

Your words died in your throat when you saw him. He looked exhausted. The fire he'd stared at you with was gone. In a possibly naïve way of thinking, you wondered if he was just terrified for his daughter. Such a rash and irresponsible decision had to have come from fear, didn't it?

Instead of yelling, you just stood next to each other, the occasional waft of cologne or cigar smoke finding its way to your nose. Polluted waters under the bridge glowed with Shimmer runoff. It used to be such a pretty view, you remembered. Now it was a constant reminder of what Silco had done. The man who placed Shimmer in the hands of addicts. The man who had killed Vander. The man standing next to you. 

After a few silent minutes, you sighed. "Do you always send your goons after people on baseless assumptions?"

"It wasn't baseless." The swirling orange of his corrupted eye kept darting to you and back.

"You could have tried asking me."

Silco did that thing again, a quick huff of air through his nose. Almost a laugh. "Yes, people are continually honest when they speak with me." He took a long, slow drag. 

"You're not going to apologize to me, are you." It was a statement more than a question.

"I don't apologize." He scoffed. "Just as well, you aren't absolved of guilt yet."

"If I was guilty I'd be fleeing town, sir." You knew you should have been scared. You should be more terrified then ever. But somehow, you felt safer. He'd been oddly vulnerable in a sense. Making such a snap decision just out of fear for Jinx. "What could I even have told them? It's not exactly a secret where you live."

"Were you aware I have a daughter?"

"No," you admitted.

"Then, there you go."

"If people are already watching you, I don't think it would be hard to find out."

"Perhaps," he glowered at you, "But you are aware of her schedule, her personality, her strengths. Information is powerful down here."

You sighed. "I'm not some playground snitch, Silco." You coughed at the cigar smoke that blew directly into your face. He definitely did it on purpose.

"What happened to the shrinking violet from a few days ago, hm? It seems you do have a backbone after all."

"You were going to kill me," you furrowed your brow at him. "I think I'm allowed to be angry."

"I wasn't going to kill you. I was going to torture you."

His words hung in the air until he turned to you, and he was smiling. Barely. A slight upturn to his mouth, smug and self-important. Whether he was amused at his joke or at you staring bug-eyed at him, you weren't sure. But it was the first time you'd seen him smile.

"I would...strongly discourage traveling to Piltover again. Unsafe times we live in." He snuffed out his cigar, taking one last glance at you before he left.

You should have been afraid. You weren't.

Chapter Text

The rest of your weekend had gone by slowly. Far too slowly. You half-expected an assassin would break into your apartment, but everything was ordinary. 

You had been working for a paranoid, violent man who didn't need a real excuse to snuff you out. 

Maybe he didn't hurt you. But he had certainly considered it. You should have been more afraid of him than you ever were. He made you nervous, sure, but you had a feeling he wouldn't hurt you. It wasn't rational. You knew that. Best to cut ties while you still had your life.

By the time your next scheduled teaching session came along, you were unsure if you even should return. Silco sure didn't seem to like you very much. He wouldn't miss you. By that Tuesday night, you had made your mind up. You'd never even look at the Last Drop again.

Wednesday afternoon, you found yourself walking there regardless. 

It was a bad idea. A stupid idea. But you couldn't bring yourself to turn around, even as you made your way past the bouncers and up the familiar path to his office.

Silco looked surprised when you stuck your head in through the door. He said your name like it was an unfamiliar word.

"If I'm being honest, I did not expect you to return."

"I...thought about it," you admitted. You closed the door behind you and leaned back against it, keeping the distance between you two to a maximum.

"I had your little visit looked into. Your story checked out." He steeped his hands together, placing them on his desk. His head was bowed slightly, and he stared up at you with his mismatched eyes. "I have not gotten to where I am by giving people the benefit of the doubt, girl. I'm not sure you realize the number of times I've hired someone only to find a knife at my back."

He wasn't going to apologize. You weren't sure what to say, parts of you still angry.

You sighed. "I know it's not...easy, doing what you do. But the Lanes are my home now. I don't know how else I can explain it, I'm not interested in hurting your business or your family."

You could see the gears in his head turning even from across the room. It was so quiet. Even the booming music from downstairs seemed to turn off. MId-afternoon sunlight cast his chair in shadow. You finally crossed the room, sitting on the couch and resting your head back. "You're never going to trust me, are you?"

"Trust is meaningless, dear." Your skin prickled at the name. "The most valued asset in an employee is loyalty. You show your loyalty, and I am less likely to have you surrounded on a bridge."

You groaned, exasperated. "And when is the point where you stop fucking with me?"

He chuckled. Silco, an honest-to-god chuckle. "When your reactions stop being entertaining."

Your face burned. Why did you keep falling for it? He knew exactly how to push your buttons and make you look like a fool. 

He must have despised you.
Maybe you despised him.

He stood from his chair, striding across the room with his hands behind his back. "I'll go fetch Jinx. As I said, I didn't expect you to come back." His good eye gleamed when he glanced at you.

"Say, could you show me some things you've made? I'd like to see," you moved your heavy book on your lap and set it on the low table. You smiled over at Jinx, who gave you a pointed look.

"Why?"

"It'll help me see how much you've already learned in terms of reactions and mechanics."

"I guess. Now?"

"Whenever you want, unless you'd rather go back to algebra."

She took off, not bothering to close the door behind her.

Silco cleared his throat, and you gave him your attention again. He gave you the same look Jinx had, like he was suspicious of your intentions. "Why are you asking her for her weapons?"

"Like I said, to track her progress. She's a tactile learner, which is why she wasn't getting much headway with her other teachers. A lot of curriculum is based on one kind of learning, and - and not everyone's brain is wired that way." You felt the words coming out faster than intended, which definitely gave away your nerves. "So - so I want to see how advanced she is, you know?"

Silco's eyebrow quirked, and his eyes shifted downwards, like he was going over your words again. 

"Plus," you said lightheartedly, "She'll get to blow things up."

He didn't laugh at your joke.

Jinx returned with a box of her inventions, all haphazardly tossed in. She threw it on the ground without much caution. "Here's the smaller ones," she said casually, hopping down on the floor to sort through it.

"This is impressive," you said, carefully twisting the toy to get a look at it. Or, it had been a toy. Now, it was some sort of bomb, set to go off after the toy had been wound up. "You know more about mechanics than I do, that's for sure."

Jinx bit back her smile. "I know."

She showed off her favorite inventions to you for the better part of a half hour. You weren't lying -- engineering wasn't your strong suit. Her inventions were all a little girly and childish in her own way. Cartoony faces drawn in neon paint, her own name scrawled out on the bottom of traps, salvaged from parts of old toys and bits she'd found around the undercity. Most of them allegedly worked, though you had no intentions of testing them in the middle of Silco's office.

You dared a glance over to the older man. He was thumbing through a stack of papers on his desk, twirling a fountain pen between his thin fingers. There was still tension in the air from your earlier conversation. You knew he was still listening intently.

Just showing some enthusiasm towards Jinx's inventions had her a little more comfortable around you. It was obvious the other teachers hadn't tried taking an interest in her personally. Not that you blamed them -- teachers in the Undercity were in very short supply, and those who were pattering around were unqualified, underpaid, and overwhelmed

"This one I just figured out," she held a metal circle in her palm, painted to look like a giant eyeball. "It sprays glowing paint in a circle, so if you need to track someone --" she made an exaggerated gesture with her other hand, "--BOOM!"

You hadn't the slightest idea how she made a contraption like that, so you just nodded with awe. Jinx grinned again, crossing her legs in front of her. You were both on the floor of the office so she could set them all in between you. 

She giggled as she took out a capsule-shaped...thing, a frowning face with mismatched eyes doodled on. "DAD" was scrawled over the top. You held a hand over your mouth to hide your laughter. The face just looked so grumpy, so...Silco.

"Oh! This one," she turned with a flourish, and all too quickly it fell between her fingers, hitting the floor with a loud POP.

Colored powder burst from the small square before you could even react. It hit you directly in the face, covering you in neon pink. You shut your eyes just in time - it probably would have hurt like hell to get it in there. You tried to wipe some of it from your face, but it just made a bigger mess. It had coated your entire front, some of the floor, and got far enough to hit the bottom edge of Silco's desk.

You were both frozen. Jinx was bug-eyed on the floor, the left side of her face completely covered. You both stared at each other before turning to look at Silco. 

His good eye was wide open, his mouth agape. He didn't look mad, just surprised. He had gotten to his feet, but wasn't moving.

Jinx couldn't take it anymore. She burst into uproarious laughter, holding her stomach and pointing at you. 

You tried to hold it in, too, but you couldn't help it. You laughed into your hand, leaning back onto the couch, trying to wipe the dust away from your nose and mouth.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, tears streaking down her face and making a clean line in the powder, "I didn't think it would --" she laughed so hard she snorted, which just made her double over.

You looked at Silco again, who had sat back down. You spotted the tiniest curve of his mouth, his shoulders shaking slightly. He was laughing, but not his smug I'm-better-than-you laugh, a real laugh.

"Two weeks," he muttered, but his voice sounded softer than you were used to, "Two weeks in, and you've already destroyed my office." He was still smiling. His real smile was a little awkward, like he wasn't used to moving his face that way. A sliver of his uneven teeth peeked through his scarred lips, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he laughed at the state of the room.

"Come on, it's excitement like this that keeps us young," you said with a grin.

Silco was still laughing. "Maybe for you. I just felt another of my hairs grey."

Chapter Text

Weeks two, three, and four of tutoring Jinx under the watchful eye of her father turned out to be relatively tame. True to his word, he hadn't sent anyone to your apartment. Naturally, you knew his henchmen were still casing you, out in the shadows somewhere to make sure you behaved, but you didn't need to alter your routine in any way. You had nothing to hide.

Short conversations with Silco after your lessons became part of your routine itself. It always started as a discussion about Jinx, but would inevitably stray into small talk. You had become marginally less nervous around him. Not enough that you trusted him or would call him a friend, but enough that you were fairly confident you could question him and not have your head on a pike.

Silco was a difficult man to read. He was so practiced with keeping his face neutral, only the tiniest twitches of his mouth or eyes ever gave hints. Even then, it was hard to tell. 

Frustratingly, he was a master at reading you. Any chance he got, he would push your buttons, say the exact right thing to make you feel like a fool. 

It became your mission to figure him out. He was a puzzle, and you were just stubborn and curious enough to try and solve it.

The evening of week five, you were putting Jinx's workbook back into the bin you kept in SIlco's office. If it bothered him that you left it there, it didn't show. 

"Your daughter certainly has a mind for math," you turned, stretching your arms above your head. You took your usual seat across from the older man, watching as he took a long drink from his bourbon. "She's gonna be ahead of me soon."

Silco hummed. "Maybe I'll have her teach you instead."

A small smile formed across his lips when you laughed. "How much will you charge me?"

"Twice what I'm paying you now," he answered dryly as he scrawled something across a shipment page. His handwriting was long and loopy, almost fancy. 

"Say, um," you said, and his eyes snapped to you at the sudden change in tone. "I - I'm not trying to pry, but does Jinx..stare off into space often?"

His lips formed a thin line, and you could tell he was deciding what to say. "...Yes."

"I've noticed her doing it. It looks like when another one of my students would hallucinate. I'm wondering if it's related to some kind of trauma," you said carefully. Historically, anything resembling criticism towards his daughter did not end well. You were not criticizing, however. You were concerned. 

He stared at his own hands on his desk for a few minutes before he spoke again. You saw the muscles in his jaw tensing. "She has done this for years. It was more severe when I first found her."

"Found her?"

He sighed, a heavy one with an emotional weight behind it. "Jinx is not my biological daughter."

It made sense, when you thought about it. They looked nothing alike.

"I came across her, years ago. Her family had died in...an accident," his voice was quieter, softer than usual. "She was alone."

There was an implicit addition to that message you couldn't help but interpret.

I was alone.

"That couldn't have been easy for either of you," you said. "It was sweet of you to take her in."

He barked out a laugh, and it was so loud it made you jump. "I don't believe anyone has ever used the word sweet to describe me."

You shrugged. "Not many people would take in a traumatized little girl."

There was something in his eyes you couldn't quite identify. The intensity he stared at you with was more than a little uncomfortable. "You should never attribute anything to selflessness, girl. Someone like Jinx, someone formed from the blood and dirt of Zaun, can become something greater."

"You're not gonna tell me what that means, are you?"

He shook his head and finished his drink.

"Have you had her...evaluated, medically?"

"I have," he set his drink down a little too roughly, "Physically, she is fine."

It went quiet. There was absolutely no option for mental care, and you both knew it. Hell, half the kids you'd taught had some kind of trauma symptoms. It was just a reality in the Lanes. Seeing murder, robberies, abuse, sometimes at the hands of their parents. 

You wondered what Jinx had seen. It just about ripped a hole in your heart.

Jinx was scrunching her face up in concentration on Silco's sofa, her hands pressed into the side of her temples. "Plus or minus the...square root..of b squared...of..."

She groaned loudly. "When am I ever going to need this?"

"Probably never," you admitted, "Unless you also plan on teaching."

She glowered at you. "Then why are you making me memorize it?"

"It's in the lesson plan!"

"That you wrote!" she gave you a playful shove, and you both laughed. It was nice to see Jinx getting more comfortable around you. She was still stubborn. Still way too smart for her own good. Still a little unpredictable. But you couldn't help but enjoy her company.

"Lesson is over, ladies," Silco called from the other side of the room. He was so quiet you sometimes forgot he was there. Unless he was staring. You could always tell.

"Finally," Jinx said, patting her stomach loudly, "I'm starving!" 

"Hey, what's that place you're always raving about? I haven't had the chance to go grocery shopping this week."

Jinx eyed you. "Jericho's." She hesitated for a moment. "I can take you, I guess? Just don't embarrass me."

You held a hand up. "I'll try my best."

Silco's eyes burned into your back as Jinx led you out of his office and down the stairs to the club floor. 

Instead of turning towards the crowd of dancers, Jinx ducked behind the bar, into one of the back rooms. It was a small but neatly-stocked kitchen. You almost asked her if you should just grab something from the cupboard, but Jinx kept walking. Not stopping, she went through another door, into a supply room full of liquor bottles and cleaning supplies. A third door, and you both exited into the alley behind the club, cool evening air fanning into your face. 

"It's just a few blocks down," she said over her shoulder. Jinx seemed to always be touching something. Her fingers bouncing on the windows of nearby shopfronts, grabbing at discarded papers and bottlecaps. She stuffed an empty beer bottle in the pocket of her cargo pants, before skipping across the street to pet a particularly mangy dog. 

The trip took twice as long as it should have, but you couldn't be annoyed with Jinx. Even if you tried. 

The market was abuzz with people waiting for their dinners. Both sides of the street were lined with a variety of food stalls, from all around Runeterra. Exotic and familiar smells both wafted around you. The sizzling of buttered pans and excited chatter made it hard for you to hear what Jinx was saying. 

"Jericho!" she beamed at the man behind one of the stalls, doing a little spin before she jumped onto one of the stools. 

The man shot you both a sharp-toothed grin before turning to flip one of the smoking skillets. You were unsure what species he was. His shark tooth necklace looked like it was from Bilgewater. Before you could contemplate the scaled man any further, Jinx pulled at your sleeve.

"Two of the usual, one for me and one for this gal!"

He grunted an affirmative, pulling something out of his standing freezer and tossing it in a skillet.

"You'll like it, trust me," Jinx said, stretching her arms over her head. You took a seat in the stool next to her. You caught brief snippets of conversation from all directions, just listening to the bustle of an Undercity market. You let yourself zone out for a bit, waiting for your food to prepare.

"Why d'you hang out with us so much?"

Jinx's question snapped you out of your thoughts. "I'm your tutor. I'm paid to be there."

She gave an exaggerated sigh, throwing her head back in annoyance. "I know that. But you always hang out with my dad after."

"I have to keep him updated on your progress." That was partially true, but you knew that you always stayed willingly afterwards to shoot the breeze. The look on Jinx's face told you she wasn't going to buy that explanation. 

"...Okay," you said with a sigh, "We do talk a little about other stuff."

"Why?"

You pursed your lips. That was a good question. 

Jericho tossed a plate in front of you both, and you quietly thanked him. He'd given you something steaming and unfamiliar. Some manner of shellfish, but nothing you had ever seen. It looked sharp and inedible. Jinx had already began pulling it apart and stuffed a handful into her mouth, chewing it excitedly. 

You hesitated. The plate did nothing to stir your appetite. You almost said something, but imagined Silco's reaction. That self-satisfied sneer he'd give you. "Ah, what a persnickety little Piltie you are, too busy eating finger foods at your cocktail parties," he'd say. 

So you began to mimic Jinx's actions, if only out of spite, taking apart the food and taking a few sample bites. The texture was slimy and unpleasant, but the taste was rich and flavorful, the saltiness hitting right in the sweet spot. 

"Hey, this ain't half bad," you said, wiping a bit of butter off the side of your mouth. 

"It's the best," Jinx said around her mouthful of food. She swallowed thickly before devouring more. She had the worst table manners you'd ever seen. "So? Why're you palling around with my dad?"

That question again. "I'm...not sure," you admitted. "I think your dad is interesting, I guess."

"Nobody hangs out with m'dad," her voice was slightly muffled from the food, "Unless they're lookin' for something."

You shrugged, chewing on the shellfish for a beat too long. "I don't want anything. He makes strangely good company. Doesn't he have other people he just hangs out with?"

Jinx slowed her chewing, her brows drawn together at you. "No. He always says it's just him and me, we don't need anyone else."

That struck you as odd, but you bit your tongue. "Well, I'm not trying to change that. I don't think your dad even likes me. But he's had a crazy life, it's fun to listen to what he has to say."

"Nah," she swallowed another mouthful, "He's boring. Just does paperwork all day." You laughed at that. "And he wouldn't talk to you if he hated you."

"Then why's he always trying to make me look stupid?"

She shrugged. "That's just what he does. Thinks it's fun."

You metaphorically chewed on that thought along with another bite of your meal.

"Say," Jinx said to you, wide-eyed, "You gonna finish that?"

Chapter Text

Silco was alone in his office when you showed up the next day. He was on his sofa, blowing perfect smoke rings up above him. He said nothing when you entered, just the quickest flash of his eyes to let you know he noticed.

"Where's Jinx?"

"She's downstairs." He set his cigar on the low table, un-crossing and re-crossing his legs. He put his hands on his lap, and looked over at you expectantly. "We have something to discuss."

You sat as far from him as you could. Silco struck you as a man who enjoyed his personal space. His brow twitched when he saw you wedge yourself against the side of the sofa.

"I still frighten you, don't I?"

"No," you lied. He knew it, too. "I just - what are you going to kill me over this time?"

"I wouldn't kill you on my sofa. Imagine the stains," he waved his hand dismissively. 

You laughed. You couldn't help it.

"I'm offering you permanent employment."

You quirked your head to the side. "I...already work for you."

"On a temporary basis, yes. This is for after your work with Jinx is finished." He plucked his cigar back out of the ashtray, holding it between his crooked front teeth.

"What would I even have to offer for you?"

He huffed. "My team is lacking in...certain personalities. Many of them are good at intimidation tactics, and not in persuasion. I need someone with a..." he clicked his tongue, "...Diplomatic touch."

"I'm not sure what to say," you shrugged. "I don't really know all it would entail, and I'm - I'm uncomfortable with a lot of the..." you chewed on your lip, choosing your words carefully, "decisions your people make."

"You don't have to give me an answer now," he said, puffs of smoke escaping with every word. "Rest assured, you will largely keep your hands clean. Take some time to consider."

"I will."

He nodded, and smoothly stood back up. One hand behind his back, one on his cigar. "Additionally," he said, not turning to face you, "I have procured a workshop for Jinx to work in. Once it's set up, you may teach her there, if you wish."

"Trying to get rid of me?"

He side-eyed you. "You may use my office for your lessons if you'd like. But there's more room for explosions in the workshop."

You knew it made more sense to use the new place, but part of you was a little sad. Nerve-wracking as he could be, you hadn't finished solving that damned Silco puzzle yet.

"Does this mean you finally trust me?"

He rolled his eyes. "You know I don't use that word. I'm relatively sure you won't try and hurt my daughter, so you can teach her things that would normally leave my office in tatters." He interrupted you before you could respond. "Additionally, I'm sure Jinx could take you in a fight."

"You're not wrong."

You could have sworn you saw him biting back a smile.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand...BAM!" Jinx shouted, hitting you with a peanut shell directly in between your eyebrows. 

"Hey," you flinched, watching it bounce off the sofa cushions and onto the wooden floor. "Aren't you supposed to be solving that?"

She sighed and flopped back dramatically, her arm draped over her face. "If I do any more math my brain's gonna explode!" She lifted her arm to shoot you a look. "Is that what you want? Brain chunks all over my dad's office?"

You snorted. "That would be bad, wouldn't it?" You grabbed one of the peanuts and bit open the shell, chewing on it with some thought. 

Silco had stepped out for a meeting. The office felt empty without him. You and Jinx both felt restless, which made teaching her particularly difficult. 

"Tell you what," you said with a sigh, "We only have about twenty minutes left. If you promise not to tell your dad, I'll let you go early -- just finish graphing that last equation."

"Deal," she murmured, hunching back over her notebook. Her pink nails picked at the frayed edge of the paper nervously. She scrunched her nose up and huffed, before scribbling out the last of her work, and carefully drawing two straight lines down on the graph. 

She handed you the notebook wordlessly, and you gave it a quick once-over. Her handwriting was messy, but legible. She'd doodled a little monkey face in the corner with its tongue sticking out.

"This is excellent work," you said, hovering your pen over the page. "You only got this part wrong." A tap to the problem with the mistake.

"Damn it. I wrote down 3x3 as 6, damn it, damn it," she balled her hands into fists. "I'm so stupid."

"Hey, hey," you touched a reassuring hand to her shoulder, "You're not stupid, you're brilliant. You're gonna need to teach me, soon."

"Shut up," she swatted you away. You could see her nails digging into the palms of her hands.

"Silco never calls you stupid, does he?" You asked quietly, carefully. 

Jinx shook her head. You felt the slightest relief - at least he wasn't that kind of bad guy. 

Something about Jinx's entire body language changed, like someone had sucked all the energy from the room. She picked at a hole in her worn boot, her eyes glazing over. Physically, she was there, but her mind was somewhere else.

"Jinx," You said her name softly, to try and coax her out of it. "Jinx, come on."

She finally looked at you, her eyes glassy and far away. "That's it. Let's get you some water." She gave a nod, still clearly not all the way there.

You scampered over to Silco's little bar area, opening the cabinet and searching for what looked like the cheapest glass. You filled it with water, noting how much cleaner and clearer it was than anything you'd ever seen in your apartment.

You set the glass on the table, and Jinx twitched at the noise, but made no attempt to drink. 

You wracked your brain for any way to help her out of her state. It could have been disassociation or a hallucination, or some kind of catatonic episode - you couldn't be sure. You wondered what Silco did in that situation.

Jinx weakly grabbed for your arm, rubbing her thumb along the grooves in your sleeve. You let her - maybe the tactile sensation would help ground her.

"It's okay," you said softly. "I'm here. Your dad will be here soon."

She looked up at you, her eyes those big blue pools, and you felt your heart tug. "Will you stay?"

"Of course," you reassured her. "I'll stay as long as you want me to."

"I didn't mean it," she whispered, "It was an accident."

You had no idea what she was talking about. "I know. It's okay."

"Mylo says it's my fault."

"He's wrong."

You could see her mouth start to tremble.

"You're safe. I won't leave."

The rays of light pouring into the room got fainter and fainter as Jinx trembled, occasionally mumbling or choking back a sob. Your heart shattered, but all you could do was reassure her.

The sound of the office door opening wasn't even audible. You only knew Silco had come back when you heard those gold-tipped boots tapping against the floor. He paused when he noticed you, his eyes immediately changing focus to his daughter. He didn't say anything, just rushed to the sofa, muttering her name. 

Jinx grabbed onto him and curled inwards, sniffling. 

"I'm here," he whispered. He looked at you, and though he didn't thank you, you could sense the gratitude. You nodded, he nodded back. As you exited the office and shut the door quietly behind you, the sound of Jinx's sobs followed.

Chapter Text

The anguish in Jinx's cries faded as you made your way downstairs and to the main bar. It was too much to think about leaving, so your body went on autopilot, pushing aside some patrons to take a seat on one of the worn stools.

"Jesus kid, you look like you're about to puke all over the floor." You hadn't noticed Sevika sitting there. She had a dirty glass in her hand, hunched over and almost hiding under her poncho.

"I'm fine."

She scoffed, turning in the barstool to face you. "No, you're not. You look like you're gonna pass out. And nobody wants to clean blood off the floor." 

You didn't respond.

"The boss threaten you again?"

"No, no. Jinx had an...episode, I guess."

"Ah," she nodded, finishing off her drink in one gulp. "Being packed in with all these people won't help." She tugged on your arm. "Come on. You need some air."

Sevika was right, being overwhelmed was just making your worries worse. You nodded and sat up, your legs a little unsteady. She easily made the crowd part before her, walking up the club steps like you were used to. She led you down an unfamiliar corridor, and before you could ask where you were going, you felt cool evening air on your face. You were on a flat part of the roofing of the club, a balcony of sorts built into the side. 

Though not more than three stories high, you could still see over the ramshackle buildings, watching vendors stocking up for the night, teenagers prowling around the streets, Shimmer addicts rummaging through trash piles for sellable scrap.

"This is the only spot in the club to get some peace and quiet," Sevika said over her shoulder, leaning on the railing and lighting a cigarette. You joined her, the cool metal on your elbows pulling you back to reality.

"Thanks," you muttered. 

"Don't mention it," she shrugged. "Consider it a favor in exchange for me almost throwing you over a bridge."

You laughed in surprise. "You were just doing your job."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," she was blowing smoke out of the right side of her mouth, but it was blowing back into your face regardless. "You want one?" she held out her box of cigarettes. You politely declined. "Smart. Not a good habit to get into. Been trying to quit since before I even met Silco."

"You've known each other a while?"

"God, it's been decades by this point." You wondered how old Sevika was. You'd pinned Silco at being in his early-mid 50s, were they the same age?

"I can't imagine him being younger," you frowned. "Seems like he came out of the womb middle-aged."

Sevika snorted, a grin painted on her face. "He kinda was. Always uptight, always an asshole. Just looked more like a drowned rat with stringy hair."

The mental image was enough to make you chuckle.

"Was always wanting to stick it to Topside, even back then. He knew how to have fun, though. Not so much anymore. Everything's so damn serious with him." She frowned around her cigarette. "Surprising how much time he lets you spend up there. I'm sure you noticed he's not a huge fan of Pilties."

"Oh, he never lets me forget."

You felt comfortable shooting the shit with Sevika. She seemed to be a decent person. Pretty, tough, funny. Maybe rough around the edges, but who wouldn't be, working for Silco?

"Do you think something I did made Jinx upset?"

She shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "Doubt it. She flies off the handle at random, seems like. That kid is..." she sighed, looking at her metal arm. Flexed the fingers one by one. "She's got issues."

"I can't imagine what it's like being a kid down here."

Sevika sighed. "Nah, you couldn't. Some of us turn out okay. That girl -- she's a disaster. More trouble than she's worth, these days."

"I just want there to be a way to help." You chewed the inside of your lip, the ghosts of Jinx's cries echoing in your ears. Sevika didn't respond, but what response was there, really?

"You see that stand down there?" Sevika's casual tone was so jarring it pulled you out of your thoughts. "The one with the red banner. That's where I worked when I was about 20. 'Course, it wasn't a fish stand then. We mostly sold illegal explosives."

You followed the trail of her finger, spotting a squat Vastayan packing up a standing fridge full of pink meat. 

"Menzi was her name - the gal who owned it back then." Sevika tossed the butt of her cigarette over the railing, tucking her hair back behind her ear. "It was even more run-down than it is now. Oh, god, and down there," she almost hit your nose with her arm, "Right in that alley, that's where I broke my first knuckle."

Sevika's tidbits about Zaun were a nice distraction. You'd certainly lived different lives. It had gotten dark out, and with a shiver you realized your jacket was still in Silco's office. You must have been up there with Sevika for more than an hour.

"We haven't had your welcome initiation, have we?"

"Oh god, are you gonna dunk my head in the toilet?"

She snorted. "Shut up. You, me, some of the guys. We just have some drinks and play poker."

You thought about declining. "I...sure. When?"

"Next week or somethin'. After closing. And bring your wallet," She winked.

The relative comfort she'd eased you back into stopped all too suddenly. A pull at the back of your neck, the air getting sucked out of your lungs -- it was a familiar, suffocating feeling. And as you turned, your suspicions were confirmed. Silco, pushing open the iron door to the balcony.

"You do know your shift hasn't --" there was a momentary pause. A rare moment of surprise as his eyes shifted to you and back. "-- Ended, Sevika?"

You pulled your lips tight in a half attempt at a smile. Sevika hadn't even turned to look at him. "It's dead down there, and this one was losing her shit." She shoved her thumb in your direction.

"Is Jinx okay?" You avoided eye contact with him. The weight of his presence always took some getting used to. It was unlike anything you'd ever felt.

"She's fine," he stood next to Sevika, his back still perfectly straight as he grabbed a cigar from his vest pocket. She lit it for him. "She's in her room, resting." His eerie long fingers smoothed his hair back, his good eye closing as he took a deep inhale. "It is...fortunate that she had someone with her." 

"That's Silco speak for 'thanks'," Sevika said, dropping her voice an octave in an attempt at recreating his voice.

"You're welcome," you said coolly. You had to crane your head to look at him past Sevika's frame.

"I don't recall saying thank you."

Oh, he was infuriating. 

"Don't be a dick," Sevika grumbled. You could see him narrow his eye at her with annoyance. You probably shouldn't have been watching him get pushed around by his own employee, but it felt good to have someone talk back to the smug bastard. Every time he exhaled, you caught a glance of his teeth, which were even more crooked and uneven than you'd thought. How much of that was from fighting, and how much was just from genetics?

"Making friends, are we?" His voice came out in a rasp and a cloud of smoke. Dripping with condescension. 

"Hey, I like her. Doesn't even act like a Piltie." Sevika gave you a pat on the back, and you lurched slightly at the pressure.

Silco merely hummed. "She is an interesting one."

You felt the tips of your ears turn pink. 

Not three days later, you found yourself instinctively knocking at Silco's door again. He gave you permission, and you strolled into his office, that familiar smell of tobacco, cologne, pomade. It was your day off, but you had been coming by more often to check on how Jinx was settling into her new warehouse. 

"Jinx has most of her stuff set up," you offered.

"And she's given you no trouble?"

"Nope." And she hadn't. She'd been uncharacteristically awkward after her meltdown. "I think she's embarrassed I saw her like that."

Silco's mouth pressed into a thin line.

"I hope she knows I'm not...upset, or that I don't think any less of her -"

"You could tell her that," he interrupted.

"D'you think that would help?"

"Perhaps." His tone was clipped.

"Okay," you nodded. "I'll tell her, but...subtly, you know."

The bags under Silco's eyes were more pronounced than usual. He was slouched over piles of paper, holding his chin in one hand. 

"Are you okay?"

He glanced at you like you were a particularly annoying fly buzzing around his office. "Does that concern you?"

You shrugged. "You look stressed. I wondered if I could help."

Silco sighed. "Not unless you can track down three missing Shimmer shipments."

You trailed your finger along the raised edges of the wood on his desk. "I might have psychic powers, you wouldn't know."

"Distracting me is going to do the opposite of help."

"You'd be surprised. Maybe take a break. Clear your head?"

You anticipated him throwing you out of the office on your ass, but he tilted his head, considering your words. "And what do you propose?"

"I don't know," you admitted timidly, "Smoke a cigar, get some fresh air, throw rocks at cars?"

He mad the most bewildered face you'd ever seen. "Rocks. At. Cars?"

"I don't know, it's what I used to do," you said, feeling yourself holding back a laugh.

"You are bizarre," it seemed like he was too confused to be annoyed at you anymore.

"Maybe," you shrugged, "You're the one who hired me."

"A lapse in judgement, perhaps," he muttered, wheeling back in his chair and standing to his full height. You immediately froze. Had you pushed him too far?

Some of the tension in your shoulders relaxed when he simply turned to look out his office window. A world-weary sigh. He was slouched, his normally perfectly-pressed suit was wrinkled in his upper back. The strength of the pomade in his hair seemed to be fading, some strands pulled out of place. And still, he didn't kick you out of his office.

"I think you're warming up to me," you said half-heartedly, more for your own assurance than his. 

He actually scoffed at you.

Asshole.

Chapter Text

You were struggling to keep steady with a stack of books tucked in your arms. Attempting to keep them steady by pressing them under your chin, you dodged a mangy cat running under your feet, swearing under your breath.

Some of the books were old hand-me-downs from your dad, dog-eared with fabric covers peeling; others brand new and pristine. Jinx's new "office" was pretty empty, so you rummaged through your collection to bring her anything she might be interested in. You may have gone a little overboard.

You weren't paying attention when you first heard a bit of a scuffle. Fights weren't uncommon in the area. The tiniest glint from a shiny badge was your only warning. Before you had time to react, a hand grabbed you roughly by the collar.

"Empty your pockets," the Enforcer demanded. His voice was distorted from the respirator covering his face. He knocked the stack of books from your arms, sending them all tumbling to the cobblestone. A second officer took your bag and turned it upside down.

"Hey!" You reached an arm out to collect your things, only for the Enforcer to shove you roughly against a wall. You heard the fleshy smack of your cheek hitting the surface, felt the impact rattle your teeth and break skin. 

"Don't fucking move," he spat as the other man dug through your possessions. "We're looking for Shimmer smugglers." You felt him turning your skirt pocket inside-out.

You wanted to shout, but thought better of it. The man pressed the side of your face harder against the wall, and you hissed through your teeth at the sting. Adrenaline flowed through you so strongly you could feel your heartbeat in your head.

"Clean," the officer on the ground said, not even bothering to look at you. The man with his hands on you let go unceremoniously, and you fell to your knees with a gasp. You watched them run to another woman, digging through her coat.

You gripped your jaw in one hand, making sure there wasn't any serious damage. There was some blood dripping down the side of your face, but your teeth and bones seemed to be fine. You felt anger grip you from all sides as you recollected your things, some of them broken from impact. Scurrying off towards the Drop, you could hear the small gang of enforcers accosting some poor Shimmer addict behind you.

The anger still boiled in you when you opened the doors to the Drop. It was pretty empty, probably due to the officers in the area. There were only a few groups talking quietly in the booths. Nobody had thrown any coins into the jukebox, and the silence was a little unsettling.

Sevika had glanced over her shoulder when she heard you approaching the bar. Her eyes widened. "What happened to you?"

"Enforcers," you grumbled, still feeling the sting in your cheek. 

Her eyebrows knit together, and she gestured for you to follow her.

She led you into the kitchen behind the bar, fishing something out of a high cabinet. "Where are they?"

"Just a couple blocks down. Said they were looking for Shimmer."

She stopped her ministrations for a moment. "Shimmer?" she handed you a rag and a bottle of clear liquid, grimacing. You mumbled your thanks, pouring some of the disinfectant onto the rag and hissing slightly when it made contact with the broken skin.

"The boss is gonna want to hear details," she sighed. "You should get up there. This is not a good sign."

"You're late," Silco didn't look up when you entered his office. He was halfway hidden behind a stack of papers almost as tall as you. "Jinx is already in the warehouse."

"There were some, uh, complications." 

He finally flicked his eyes up at your face, thoroughly unamused. "Tripped in the gutter?"

"Enforcers."

He snapped to true attention at that. "Enforcers? How far away?"

"Two blocks south. Looked like four or five of them, I wasn't about to stick around and count them."

"That doesn't make any sense," Silco mumbled, frantically sorting through a different pile of paperwork.

"They said they were looking for Shimmer, but that doesn't make any sense," you shrugged, "Wouldn't they go straight to the source?"

"Yes..." he was briefly skimming the pages in front of him. What he was looking for, you weren't sure. "Topside enforcers know where the Shimmer warehouses are. They wouldn't be searching pockets."

"Maybe there's something else they're looking for? Something they don't want us to know they know?"

"It is a possibility," he said, still rifling through the stack, "It could also be intimidation. A threat. Why else would they do it so close to my headquarters?" His frown only deepened when he gave up on the papers. "I'll have to retaliate. I cannot let them slow traffic to my business."

"You're going to kill them?" You weren't sure why you were surprised. "Wouldn't that just...escalate the situation?"

"You'd do well not to question my strategy," his tone was clipped and short. "Any sense of weakness from us, and they'll take advantage of it."

"Or they're just looking for a reason to hurt us --"

He interrupted you with a loud scoff. "You sound like Vander."

You froze. It was too quiet in the room without the distant bass from downstairs, and Silco simply looked at you, waiting for a response. Your mouth was so dry, you weren't sure you could even speak.

"Vander?"

He'd gotten to his feet, pacing slowly behind his desk. "Surely you've lived here long enough to know Vander."

"Well, not personally. I knew of him. The Hound of Zaun."

"That's what they call him now?" a dry, annoyed chuckle left him. "He was weak. Content to be crushed under Piltover's boot. Bribing enforcers in a pitiful attempt to keep him safe. And look how well that did him." 

When you didn't say anything, he continued. "You know as well as I the suffocating presence of enforcers when Vander was in charge. Content to lie down like a dog while the people of Zaun were suffering right in front of him. I don't turn a blind eye to the injustice."

While Silco did have a point, you couldn't help but wonder what purpose flooding the streets with a dangerous and addictive drug served.

"Nonviolent resistance doesn't work on a police state like Piltover. Zaunites aren't seen as their equals - we are roaches to them. The only way to fight back is speaking their language."

"The base violence necessary for change," you said quietly.

That unblinking, lidless eye bore a hole into you, and you felt all the air being sucked from your body. Why did he have to be so intense? You didn't dare move while under his scrutiny. Something shifted behind his expression.

"There may be hope for you yet," he said in a tone so measured you weren't sure what he really meant. You tried to swallow, but your throat was devoid of any moisture. 

While you certainly didn't agree with some of his methods, he did have a point. Life in the Lanes under Vander's watch wasn't all that much better. Enforcers regularly kicking down your apartment door to ransack the place, looking for fugitives. Acquaintances being grabbed off the streets never to be seen again. The bullshit arrests being made just to fill some quota.

"I think we might actually agree on this one, boss," you said when you finally found your voice.

The short nod of approval from the man gave you an odd feeling of elation.

Maybe if you got into Silco's good graces, there would be a chance you could have some say in Zaun's future. Maybe if you worked for him, you could do something to help people. It might have been naïve, but you held that hope to your chest.

"Did you break anything?" 

You stared at him blankly before realizing he was asking about your face. "I - no, I don't think so."

"I can have our doctor take a look," he said through the cigar pressed in between his teeth. He was being nonchalant, but it seemed he was trying to be...concerned? With anyone else it would have been reassuring, but with Silco it was more alarming than anything else. You politely declined. What kind of doctor would work at a place like that?

Silco had given you the afternoon off, and you weren't one to bite the hand that fed you. All the adrenaline had worn off by then, and you were exhausted. You had to take the long way home, avoiding your usual street out of fear of a repeat incident. When you reached your apartment, you noticed a piece of torn notebook paper taped to your door.

You recognized your father's handwriting before you even read a word. Barely legible, as usual. 

Stopped by at 1, nobody home. Come see me ASAP. Urgent!!

"Well, shit."

Chapter Text

Your father lived on the outskirts of Zaun, about as close as you could get to Piltover. It was a sign of prestige for denizens of the Undercity, but still a slum compared to anywhere across the bridge. 

It wasn't too far a walk, and breathing in cleaner air helped clear your head. You were a little rattled from your encounter with the Enforcers, but you managed to make it to your dad's shop without incident.

He was behind the counter when you came in. He ran a sort of pharmacy, but since there weren't a lot of doctors to go around, the legality of it was shady at best. He provided a valuable service,  however, so he was able to keep operating. Nobody would dare do anything to him when he was the only one manufacturing essential medications for Zaunites.

He was a big, burly man, beard halfway down his chest and a sleeve of tattoos. Not someone you would have guessed used to run the pharmaceutical department of Piltover's university. He turned to you and his eyes went wide, rushing to you and pulling you in for a rib-crushing hug.

"Oh, thank Janna," he said. His voice was strained, nearly cracking.

"Dad," you managed to choke out, "I can't breathe."

He let go of you, but his face was stern. He turned your jaw to look at the scrape on your cheek.

"What happened?"

"It was just Enforcers. They've been sneaking around lately. I got your letter, what's going on?"

He ushered you to the back of the pharmacy where his living quarters were, pushing on your back to make you walk quicker. You made a noise of annoyance, but he finally stopped and turned to lock the door.

"The same Enforcers who stopped by here and were asking about you, I'd bet," he hissed. His features were clouded with worry. "They said you work at the Last Drop."

"They were here??" What the fuck business did they have with you? Before you could even begin to process it, your dad spoke again.

"Are you doing Shimmer?"

"Dad --"

"I can get you help, we make some things here that help with the detox -"

"Dad --"

"And if you owe dealers anything, I have enough saved up, we can get your debt paid -"

"DAD."

He looked down at you like he'd somehow forgotten you were there. "What?"

"I've never done Shimmer. Calm down."

"Then what are you doing over at the Last Drop? That place is dangerous."

"I have a job there, is all."

He crossed his arms and watched as you sat at the wobbly kitchen table. "You're tutoring at a bar?"

You sighed. "I'm tutoring the daughter of someone who works there." You hoped if you kept it vague he wouldn't be even more worried than before.

"I don't think you realize how dangerous this is," your dad said, taking a huge bite of a sandwich that had been laying on the table. He always was a stress eater. "Silco owns the damn place. He could have you strung up on the rafters to die just from lookin' at him funny."

"It's just a teaching job, I promise. But why were Enforcers looking for me?"

"All I know is they were looking for information on you, they thought you lived here. Said you were using Shimmer."

"Enforcers lie, dad. They're probably just looking for someone to spy on the place."

He sighed and sat at the table with his head in his hands. "That does seem like something they'd do." He looked at you with tired eyes. "...I'm sorry. I just - after losing your mother, I got so scared at the thought of losing you, too, and..."

"It's alright." You gave him a smile. "I promise, my hands are clean. It's just a job. And I've made more this past month than I would have made in a year doing other classes."

There was a pause. He still looked worried, and your mind was fizzing with ideas about what the Enforcers could be doing.

"If they ever give you more trouble, just come down to the Drop," you said quietly. "We'll figure out a way to get them off your back."

"Nonviolently," your father insisted.

"Of course."

The rest of your visit was mostly normal - after you managed to talk your father off the ledge and convince him you weren't in immediate danger. There was an odd sense of defensiveness, maybe pride, in your work down at the Drop. You finally managed to give him the leatherbound volumes of Freljordian religion you picked up, and he regaled you with tales of the seedy Vastaya who started visiting the shop, asking for ingredients from places as far off as Ionia and Bandle City. Now that you knew Enforcers had checked the place out, though.. there was a sense of unease. Like you were being watched. Your father felt it, too. It clouded what you were willing to talk about, and made it so you didn't stay long. With one last promise to be safe, you exited the building.

The walk back to your apartment was quiet and contemplative. You hoped your visit would give you answers, but you were only filled with more questions. Dozens of people worked at the Drop - why were they so focused on you? What did they want? Should you mention it to Silco?

Sleep did not come easy. You tossed and turned, and when you did drift off, your vision was full of mismatched eyes and Enforcer respirators. 

You desperately needed a break. The next day happened to be the day Sevika had invited you out for drinks - and though you were wary before, it might have just been the ticket to distract you.

You weren't sure what to wear to your initiation, or whatever Sevika called it. All previous visits to the Drop had involved conservative blouses and mermaid skirts, in an attempt to look professional. They'd had their own Zaunite addons, like a holster or a clunky belt, but still were as close to "office wear" you could get down there.

You decided to blend in this time, in a salaciously low-cut dress. Chains crossing your collarbone kept the straps together, covering far less of your cleavage than you were used to. But, hell - it was a party, right? The patrons at the Drop didn't exactly dress conservatively. Holed tights and combat boots kept the outfit from feeling too formal. You did a once-over in the mirror, and felt very...different.

"Woah, where'd that bod come from?" Sevika yelled out far too loudly from the other side of the room, in one of the curtained-in VIP booths. You felt your face burn and hurriedly crossed the room, glowering at her when you got close enough.

"I'm trying to blend in!" You tried to hiss at her, but had to be loud for her to hear over the music. 

One of Silco's other goons grinned wolfishly at you from the other side of the table. "You gonna introduce us, Sev?" They asked, gesturing to the four other bodies crowded around the table. Two of them looked familiar, the others you'd never seen. She said your name before pointing to the others.

"That's Ran," Sevika pointed at the thin, dark-haired one you'd seen the most. They gave you a sharp-clawed wave. 

"Dami," Sevika gestured to a woman with prominent arm muscles and sharp eyeliner, "Buzz," an absolute hulk of a man covered in tattoos, "and Forge." Forge was a dazed-looking kid with smudged eye makeup. They all seemed a drink or two into their night. 

"Nice to meet you," you said awkwardly. You felt like you were interrupting their night. Sevika slid a glass across the table at you, and you took a tentative drink, coughing when the harshness hit the back of your throat. Sevika whacked your upper back to get you to breathe again. That little bit of humiliation seemed to be enough to break the ice, the entire table erupting into uproarious laughter.

"Some first impression," you croaked. 

"That's actually pretty good, by our standards," Dami grinned. "First time I met Buzz he was taking a shit in the dumpster behind the club."

"Shut up," Buzz muttered, giving her a playful shove.

"Anyway, newbie, we were about to play fuck, marry, kill --" Ran started.

"Oh, my turn," Sevika grinned. "Fuck that blonde in the corner, or, uh, that girl we saw earlier with the tits, OH or --"

"Sev, it has to be someone who works here," Ran sighed with exasperation.

Sevika frowned. "Fine. Kill Ran," she pointedly ignored Ran's weak hey!, "Fuck Dami," she said with an eyebrow wiggle, "And uh...I don't know. I wouldn't marry any of you."

Forge snorted, Dami looked flattered. Ran turned their attention at you. Their eyes were so intense. "New kid, you're up. Fuck, marry, kill."

"I -- I don't really know anyone here yet," you said sheepishly. You were afraid of being a party pooper, but you were even more afraid of embarrassing yourself.

"Come on, don't be a chicken!" Ran said before taking a huge swig of their drink.

Sevika opened her mouth to protest, but you spoke before she could. "Fine. I'll kill Ran too." The table burst into laughter again, Ran making an exaggeratedly hurt face at you.

"Uh... marry Sevika," you said, pointing your drink at her. "I think she'd treat me right."

"In your dreams, princess," Sevika snorted, elbowing you in the side.

"And the fucking?"

"I - I don't know," you pouted. "I don't really know anyone here well enough..."

"Except Silco," Sevika laughed.

You choked on nothing, causing Sevika to whack you in the back again. "Wh - he doesn't count!"

"Silco's gay, dumbass."

"No, he's not," Sevika rolled her eyes. "He likes everything."

Forge mimed a gagging motion from his side of the table. "I do not want to think about Silco fucking anyone, actually."

Ran started laughing in earnest, their nose crinkling up. "Does his dick even work anymore? He's, like, a hundred years old."

"Maybe that's why he's so grumpy all the time," you mumbled. The entire table burst into laughter once again. You felt a small swell of pride.

Sevika slid another shot of foul-smelling alcohol in front of you, and you drank it as quickly as you could, ignoring the sting at the back of your throat. It was some strong shit, you could already feel a warmth flowing through your body. You coughed, your eyes watering. "Fuck."

"It's like drinking straight battery acid," Forge said from the other side of the table and thumped himself in the chest. 

"Gets you drunk, though." Sevika shrugged and downed a shot without making a face. She was right about that - only a few shots in and you were already tipsy.

As the night went on, the club started to clear out, but your group remained. You stopped once you were pretty sloshed, but the alcohol brought you out of your shell - and since everyone else was wasted, you all got along swimmingly. 

Buzz was the first to tap out, stumbling back to his apartment after dropping a glass and shattering it all over the floor. Dami lived in the building and slipped back to her room while nobody was looking. Forge, Ran, and Sevika began a drinking contest - poor Forge didn't stand a chance, and passed out at the table. Ran and Sevika were staring daggers at each other, doing shot after shot, so much it made your stomach churn just from watching.

Ran tried their hardest - they fought with honor, but nobody was a match for Sevika. They held up a hand, looking even more pale than usual, walking towards the back to sleep it off.

"Knew it," Sevika slurred, swaying slightly in her seat. "Nobody outdrinks me. 'M the champion."

"Not gonna hear any arguments from me," you said, resting your head in your hands. "Are you going to be okay to walk me home, though?" It was late, and freezing. She'd insisted on taking you back, but now you weren't sure she could even walk.

"N'problem, just gimme some water," she said, blinking slowly like she was trying to focus her eyes.

"Sure thing." You got up and the world spun a bit - you shook it off and hopped behind the bar to pour her a glass. You certainly weren't sober, but you were in better shape than the rest of the group. Ran hadn't even made it to the back - you saw them slumped over on their stomach at the bar. And by the time you pushed the curtains back to the booth, Sevika was totally out, face-first on the table. She was snoring, so at least she was still alive. You smiled and shook your head.

Maybe it'll be safe enough to go home by myself, you thought. But it was fucking freezing - you'd definitely need your jacket, and you left it up in Silco's office the day before. It was about three in the morning, you could always just grab it and go home. You trudged your way up the steps, and navigating them made you feel more drunk than ever. It was like trying to balance an egg on a spoon. 

The door to Silco's office creaked loudly when you pushed it open. It took your inebriated brain a second to catch up on the fact that you were now locked eye-to-eye with your boss, both frozen in place.

Chapter Text

"...May I help you?" Silco quickly regained his composure, smoothing his hair over his head and raising an eyebrow at you.

"Shit," you mumbled. "Sorry, I - uh - left my jacket in here. Didn't think you'd still be - be working." You stumbled a little as you walked to the couch and grabbed your jacket, holding it to yourself. "...Why're you still awake?"

"I do not often have time to sleep," he answered simply, turning his eyes away from you to return to his work. "Sevika threw one of her famous welcoming parties, I see."

You giggled, still feeling bubbly and hazy. "Sure did." You paused, your eyes widening as you looked at Silco. "Woah - are you okay? What happened to you?"

He huffed, like you were interrupting his inner monologue. "What are you talking about?"

"The - " You gestured at your own face. "Your eye."

He shot you an incredulous, annoyed look. "Are you - " Then it seemed to hit him. "...Ah. Yes." He ran his hand along the side of his face.

The flesh around his left eye was grey and dead. It looked like there were ...cracks, where the first layer of skin had fallen off altogether, leaving angry scabs. The darkness of the scarred skin stretched up to his hairline and halfway down his cheek. Most of his left eyebrow was missing. 

You were certain it hadn't looked like that yesterday.

"I'm fine," Silco said. "I usually take measures to cover it, but I was not expecting visitors so late."

It took your sluggish, hazy brain a moment to understand what he meant. Silco wore makeup to cover his scar. The admission sobered you up a little. He frowned under your gaze. Was he insecure? Surely not. Not Silco.

After an uncomfortable silence, he continued. "When I sustained the injury to my eye, the polluted waters of the river entered the wound. Infection is slowly eating away at the nerves under my skin."

"That sounds painful," you said quietly.

He grunted, but didn't elaborate.

"There's no way to clear the infection? My dad's a pharmacist, maybe -"

"No," he cut you off. "I have tried. The bacteria is stubborn. Created by Topside pollution that runs into the river."

You stared at your own lap, wondering why you couldn't bring yourself to leave. Eating away at his nerves ... did he spend all his time in agony?

"Shimmer slows the spread of the infection," Silco continued. "Medicinal Shimmer injections, of course, not the variety that you see on the streets. It is inevitable that it will kill me, but not for some time."

"I'm so sorry."

He looked back at you, his expression unreadable. "I do not need pity."

"...I'm surprised you told me."

"You are shitfaced," he said flatly. "I doubt you will remember this in the morning."

You couldn't help but giggle again. Something about hearing Silco swear was amusing. His patience was probably wearing thin, so you pulled your jacket on. You stood, and felt the floor shifting beneath you. An unsteady step or two and the world adjusted itself again. "You should see the other guys. Pretty sure I'm the only one still conscious."

"Who is taking you home, then?"

"Sevika was gonna, but she's out. It's just a few blocks," you shrugged. 

"I will not let an employee walk home alone, inebriated, at this hour."

You bristled under his words, feeling defensive at the implication. "I can take care of myself -"

Silco's lips tightened to a straight line, and did not break his gaze. "It's late. Take the sofa, sleep it off." You opened your mouth to retort, but he rolled his eyes and spoke before you could. "I will not force you, but it will be easier on both of us for you to just stay."

You bit the inside of your cheek. The sofa was deceptively comfortable, and you really didn't feel like walking in the cold. Your stubbornness was fighting your sleepiness. 

"...Fine," you mumbled, your legs unsteady as you made your way over and flopped down. It was instantly relaxing, much to your chagrin. 

"If you ruin my upholstery by vomiting on it, I will be taking it from your wages," Silco said dryly. You were half-sure he was joking.

The exhaustion caught up to you as soon as you felt the cushions. The pillow under your head was very welcome, and you pulled your boots off to let them hit the wooden floor with a thud. When you closed your eyes, you could feel your head swim, the world spinning around you. A surprised giggle left you.

"What now?" Silco's annoyed voice came from the other side of the room.

"You care about me," you said through tipsy laughter.

"I can still have you thrown out on your ass."

That only made you laugh harder, but you dropped the subject, surprised at your own boldness. Through your inebriated brain, you did really wonder if you and Silco were becoming friends. He certainly put up walls around himself, but he didn't seem to have real malice in his words for you anymore. 

Maybe he was thawing. Maybe you were just drunk. Maybe you'd feel differently when you were sober again.

Your eyelids were too heavy to dwell on it for much longer.

The skull-splitting headache was apparent before you even opened your eyes. Like a Noxian waraxe had cracked the bone. You then felt someone poking your side.

"Is she dead?"

"No, Jinx."

"She looks dead."

"She's alive, just can't hold her liquor." You could hear that stupid, smug smirk on Silco's face when he spoke. 

You groaned and shifted, blinking the sleep from your eyes. You watched Jinx jump back and grin wildly. "The living dead! It's science run amok!"

Oh, no, everything was way too bright. You closed your eyes again, massaging your throbbing temples. The world spun and your stomach churned when you attempted to sit up.

"Ah, she lives," Silco's voice dripped with condescension. "And not a single stain on my furniture."

"Day's not over yet," you grumbled. There was a soft wool blanket thrown over your lower half. Had Silco placed it there? You turned bright red as soon as you uncovered yourself - during the night your dress had hiked up to your hips, exposing half your ass. Shit, you really hoped you hadn't flashed Silco in your sleep. The night had already been unprofessional enough. 

You quickly scrambled up and adjusted your outfit, feeling your stomach turn from the motion.

"You look like shit," the teenager grinned at you. "Why don't you come join me for a big ol' greasy breakfast?"

Jinx collapsed into a fit of giggles at the pained groan you made. Silco chuckled under his breath in kind. Like father, like daughter, you figured.

"If I hurl all over the floor it's your fault, kid," you said lightly. "I should go before I ruin the carpet." You rubbed your temples and tried to stand up, letting the ground shift under your feet until it righted itself again.

As you pulled your jacket on, you heard Jinx speaking with Silco in hushed tones. You couldn't be bothered to try and listen, your head hurt too badly.

"...Thanks for letting me stay, boss. I owe you one." You said over your shoulder. Silco's expression was unreadable.

The bar was dead, though technically the club was open. Forge was curled into a fetal position on top of one of the tables. Sevika was dropping an antacid into a glass, her hair unkempt and her eyes bloodshot.

Sevika did a double-take when she saw you descending the stairs. "You're still here?"

"I stayed the night in Silco's office."

Sevika's shot you an impressed look.

Your expression turned to pure terror. "No - oh, god, no, that's not what I mean. I was just - too drunk to walk home so I slept on the couch."

"Huh." She took a swig of water and swirled it in her mouth thoughtfully.

"What?"

"I don't think he's ever let anyone stay up there, besides the kid."

You fiddled with the hem of your jacket. "...Really?"

"I think the old man's got a soft spot for you."