Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Introduction: Brothers in Arms

The river ran red with the split blood of their comrades. Bullets charged through the air leaving behind a pile of corpses, with open mouths and empty stares.

In their quest for freedom, the revolutionists had been massacred.

Silco’s soft emerald gaze found his brother in arms, still standing strong amongst the sea of slaughter. Through his devastation Silco felt a pang of relief. At least Vander, had survived.

The larger man's face contorted into a fearsome snarl, Silco placed his hand over his heart in a fierce sign of solidarity. His own expression held none of the anger of his friend’s, only horror and heartbreak. He stood tall and still, as Vander plowed his way through enforcers, ripping their guns from their hands, crushing their necks with his bare hands, but never breaking his focus from Silco.

Something was wrong in the way Vander pushed his way to Silco, hatred etched on his face so sharply it was like a deformity.

Silco felt an uneasiness settle in his stomach, a warning. Confused, he took a step back and Vander took three huge strides towards him before crying out in anguish and breaking out into a run.

Silco stumbled back again before instinct finally took over and had him sprinting away as Vander gained on him.

Vander chased him into the dirty river, polluted with chemical waste and bodies. 

A rough hand caught him around the throat.

Silco was flung backwards. He scrambled to right himself but Vander's fist collided with his face, again and again, splitting apart skin and tearing his eye.

He was knocked down, Vander's lethal grip held him beneath the river.

He opened his eyes to see a murky image of a rabid Vander. Silco grabbed at the hands around his neck but it was no use, they tightened with every desperate attempt made for freedom.

Silco’s lungs were on fire. He had never seen such hate, not even from the enforcers as they tore through the rebellion. Silco fought with everything he had, but Vander was stronger by far. 

Silco reflexively opened his mouth to cry out from the intense white hot pain blazing through him, and choked on the rush of garnet stained water.

Something akin to fire, ate through Silco’s exposed nerves. It pierced through the back of his head as the chemicals in the water burned into his open wounds, searing off the left eyelid completely.

What had he done to deserve this horrific death?

His arms slowly ceased flailing.

Consciousness slipped. The venom in Vander's eyes was the last thing Silco saw before the Blackness engulfed him.

Let go.

The water beckoned him. 

Let go, the pain will vanish.

Colors splashed through the darkness of his mind with a vicious need to fight.

Yet, his body did nothing more than float just below the surface where the hand of a friend trapped him, condemning him to an unjust death.

Everything will be peaceful at last. You always wanted peace, take it for yourself. Sleep. Sleep.

And so, he did. Silco drifted away.

A heartbeat.

Slowing to a crawl-

A heartbeat,

fainter yet…

Another flash of wild colors danced in his mind and this time a final voice urged him,

Have you had enough?

Silco sat up in bed, dagger pointed at the empty air, panting. Sweat soaked sheets fell away as he glanced around his surroundings.

A moment passed.

The taste of a bitter metallic substance filled his mouth. Swallowing blood, it was apparent he’d bitten the inside of his cheek.

Silco controlled his breathing. He firmly pressed his fingers against his wrist to ground himself,  steadying his trembling hands. He wiped the cold sweat from his brow and returned the dagger under his pillow.  

Another nightmare. Memories he couldn't escape. 

His hair hung limp and wet in his face and he slid it back. Knowing sleep would not come again, he stood up and made his way to his office, where he uncorked the bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass.

The golden liquid burned pleasantly down his throat.

He tapped his fingers against the glass.

Vander had betrayed not only Silco, but now all of Zaun. He was working with enforcers, the very murders of their friends, of her . 

And for what? To keep a peace that didn't exist? To stay silent as the undercity was poisoned and left behind to rot?

Vander might've given up their dreams, but Silco refused to let the city die. These were their people, their home. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the glass vial of Shimmer. It glowed, like a beacon of hope.

Piltover would finally pay. Zaun would show them who to fear. Finally, they would be able  to demand their independence. To force Piltover to find a different dumping ground for their toxic trash, to begin the act of cleaning up their air and water. 

The purple glow reflected against his red and black eye, casting strange shadows.

Soon. They would strike soon.

Silco had it all planned out to a T. What Silco hadn't planned for, was that the following night, he would meet a broken little girl who would forever seal his fate.

Chapter Text

“Hello, Little Girl. Where’s your sister?”

Silco knelt near the child, knife stained with Vander’s blood tucked behind his back.

The child was laying on the wet ground as she violently cried. She picked her head up, blood dripped from her busted lip. She’d been hit, hard. Powder launched herself at the man before her, knocking him off balance, the clattering of the knife falling somewhere in the distance. Powder tightened her arms around his waist and managed to choke out through sobs,

“She- she left me. She is NOT my sister anymore!”

Silco froze. His eyes slowly moved past her, to Vander’s corpse behind.

Rain fell around them, forming the illusion of forbidden tears running down Silco’s cheeks. A thousand thoughts, unutterable memories, swirled in the depths of his mismatched eyes; one a raging green ocean, the other, hellfire burning against eternal darkness.

At last he tore his attention away from Vander's body and his gaze fell to the child clinging desperately to him. Her entire body shook with the strength of her frantic sobs.

Oh the betrayal from one you knew as family, the crippling abandonment, that realization you were discarded like trash, the violence unjustly endured, more than enough to drive one to madness… It was strange, of all the people in Zaun, it was only Silco who understood with bleak clarity exactly what this scrawny, weak, weeping little girl had experienced.

A child such as this would not survive these dirty streets. She would be another countless lost soul, fallen to the ravenous deprived, depraved city. It would be a mercy, to die so young and save oneself from the years of pain that accompanied any who survived the Undercity long enough: polluted water, toxic air, starvation, stealing, murder, ending up as a nameless corpse in the street; this was the reality of what Piltover’s careless callousness had created.

Slowly, as if not to startle her, Silco raised his arm. His group of followers stared wide-eyed but dared not speak. A hard enough hit to the side of her head, could be a swift end to a life destined for misery.

To their astonishment, Silco wrapped his arm around her instead.

He leaned in and rested his head atop hers. His soft voice murmured,

“It’s ok. We’ll show them.”

His other arm wound around her, tightening in a strong embrace. His voice darkened with a promise, whispered into her hair.

“We will show them all.”

Her fingers dug into his sides as she gripped him with all her might, grinding her teeth and harshly furrowing her brow.

Silco gently rocked her, and she nestled her face into his chest. They remained this way for what seemed like an eternity to the confused group, but for Silco and Powder, there was no one else in the world. It was just them, reeling in the comfort that only a shared soul-shattering experience can bring.

At length, without saying a word, Silco stood; never letting go of the little girl, who adjusted her hold to encircle his neck and wrap her legs around his waist. She tucked her face into his shirt with eyes tightly closed, unable to look at the disaster she had created as he carried her away from the ashes of her old life.

…

As they entered the renovated cannery, Silco carefully placed the child down.
She immediately clung to his side. He placed a hand on her back,

“What is your name, Child?”

Her little voice was barely audible,
“Powder.”

“Well, Powder, we are home now. Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

He shot his gaze to Eliza, one of his subordinates.

“Take Powder to the washroom and afterwards find something for her to wear.”

“Um, sir…we don’t have any children’s clothes here…”

Silco ran his hand through his hair in a clear sign of annoyance.

“Obviously. Get her a shirt, get her anything clean.”

Eliza bowed her head and nodded obediently.

“Right away sir.”

She reached for Powder’s arm and Powder immediately slapped it away. A piercing shriek threatened Eliza,
“Don’t touch me!”

Silco and Eliza exchanged quick glances before he composed his face into cool indifference and raised a brow, as if to say, Well, do as she says.

Eliza cleared her throat,
“Alright, um sorry. Follow me.”

Powder glared at her,
“Why would I follow a stupid twat like you?!”

Eliza growled,
“Listen brat-”

“Eliza!”

She stilled at Silco’s sharp use of her name. He bent to one knee before Powder.

“Powder, you need to get cleaned up and Eliza here, is going to help you.”

Silco’s terrifying eyes locked with Eliza’s, the silent threat simmering in their haunting depths. It sent a bitter chill through the woman's spine.

He returned his attention to Powder,
“Should she do anything at all that bothers you, you tell me. For now though, I need you to go with her.”

Powder leaned into his ear and whispered,
“I don’t trust her.”

Silco’s emerald eye gleamed, and his mouth pulled into a smirk.
“Hmph. That makes two of us, but I trust she can at least accomplish the task of showing you to the washroom.”

Powder stood there, uncertain.

“I’ll see you right after?”

He paused, he had not thought ahead.

“Of course.”

“And if she…if she bothers me?” Fear danced anxiously in her large sapphire eyes.

This time it was Silco’s turn to whisper conspiringly into Powder’s ear,
“I’ll kill her myself. How’s that sound?”

Powder nodded in agreement.

“Good girl. I will see you soon.”

Powder hissed through her teeth at Eliza but allowed her to guide the way.

Silco dismissed the group and made his way to his own chambers where he undressed and stepped into the steaming shower.
The water burned pleasantly down his body, running red with a mix of his blood and Vander’s. He watched it pool around the drain before it disappeared. His expression, unreadable.

He washed the rest of the grime away and dressed in a black silk shirt and pants he wore to sleep.

Screaming ripped through the walls, echoing throughout the halls.

Silco sprinted towards the bloodcurdling screams. He threw open the door.
Powder and Eliza were screaming. Powder’s mouth was bloody, worse than before. She held the towel tightly around herself, standing in the middle of the washroom with a feral look on her face.

He locked his gaze with her, ignoring Eliza’s screams, and asked,
“What happened?”

Eliza pulled up her sleeve and presented a deep bloody bite mark.

“That thing bit me!”

Without sparing her a glance,
“I wasn’t asking you. Powder, what happened?”

“She was hurting me.”

Silco finally turned to Eliza,

“What is wrong with you? Are you incapable of the simplest of tasks; you can't even handle a child?”
“That thing is not a child. She’s a rabid dog!”
“Touch me again and I’ll show you just how hard dogs can really bite!”

Eliza shook her head.
“I can’t do it, sorry boss. I’m out.”

She stormed past him, clutching her bleeding arm.

Silco forced his voice steady and calm, despite the dread that awaited her answer to his next question.

“How did she hurt you?”

“She… I didn’t like her pulling on my arms and she was rough with my hair.”

He listened carefully.
“Is that all she did?”

Powder sniffed indignantly,
“Yes and I told her to be more careful but she wouldn’t, on purpose. So, I bit her.”

Silco sighed.

“Powder, I understand your frustration but I had her here to help you in case you needed anything that I’m …not fit for. I wanted you to be comfortable and have a woman present with you.”

“Why?”

Her voice lost all edge and dropped to a shy murmur,
“I don't want no one else near me.”

Silco stared at her, truly at a loss.

“...Well can you finish washing, your face still looks filthy? I will go find you some clothes.”

She dropped her head and quietly confessed,
“I… I can’t look at myself in the mirror right now.”

He regarded her for a moment. He picked up the discarded rag and dipped it in the sink; then with the gentleness of a man with infinite patience, he scrubbed at the dirt and blood on her face.

“Ah, so there is a little girl under all the filth.”

She grinned,
“Vi always said-”

Her words faded and she paled in horror.

“Powder?”

The little girl suddenly seemed worlds away.

“I didn’t mean to.” She whimpered, addressing the shadow on the wall.

“Powder?”

She couldn't hear him.

“I’m sorry!”

Silco cursed that useless Eliza, had she only stayed put and done her job!
“Powder!”

She flinched at the volume of his voice but remained despondent. She trembled violently, not looking away from the shadow.

Silco tried a different approach. He leaned into her ear and whispered,
“It’s ok. You’re here with me now. You did nothing wrong.”

Her attention snapped to him and her eyes cleared.

“Oh… sorry it got so…loud. I couldn’t hear you.”

Silco nodded,
“That’s ok. There is no need to apologize.”

He observed her with caution,

“Are you alright here while I get you something to wear?”

“Yeah.”

He paused, and sat down on the edge of the tub.

“I will wait.”

Powder glanced at him and then towards the shadow, and back at him again. She repeated this pattern. Several minutes passed.

She spoke at last,

“It’s quiet now. They’re gone.”

“Very well. I will be back soon.”

“Ok.”

Silco left her and returned some time later with a knock at the washroom door.

“You can come in.”

He opened the door and laid the silk clothing out for her.

“I will get you clothes tomorrow, for now these will make do.”
Powder nodded and he left again to let her dress.

A few moments later, she threw open the door with a giggle,
“Did you cut your pants to fit me?”

Silco threw his palms up,
“I doubt they would have fit otherwise.”

She grinned in amusement but just as quickly it vanished, replaced by anxious jerking movements. She suddenly smacked her hand against her forehead, and hissed,
“Stupid Jinx!”

Silco reached out and softly took her wrist in his hand, placing slight pressure against her pulse point,

“You’re ok. Come back to me.”

Powder glanced down at his hand on her wrist and then up into his mismatched eyes.

“I think… I think I’m tired.”

“I think so too.” …Yet Silco knew this was no mere exhaustion.

“I will set up somewhere for you to sleep. Follow me.”

Powder followed behind, close enough that were he to stop suddenly, she would have collided into him.

“This is my office.”

He opened the double doors to a vast space which looked out into the depth of the ocean. Nightmarish creatures swam by, their bioluminescence illuminating the room in a soft glow.

Powder left Silco’s side and pressed her face to the glass.

“They’re…beautiful.”

A slight smile graced scarred lips,
“I think so as well. They will …help keep any unwanted shadows away with that rather magical glow of theirs, don’t you agree?”

She said nothing other than,
“I’m glad they’re here.”

Silco made up a bed on the sofa for her.

“My room is just beyond those doors, should you need something.”

Powder nodded.

Silco studied her.

“I’ll bid you goodnight then.”

Powder scrunched her nose,
“You talk funny.”

He shrugged,
“I’ve read a lot of novels, must’ve left their mark on me.”

She cuddled into the blankets and rested her head on the pillow.

“Goodnight, Mister Silco” She snorted then, “I bid thee sweet dreams.”

“Hmm, amusing.” His tone was exceptionally flat, causing Powder to giggle, clearly pleased with herself.

He shook his head and crossed through the doors to his own room where he relaxed at last. The comfort of the grand bed assuaged some of his unease concerning the unstable girl. She seemed fine now.

His eyelid heavy, the other having been burned off never rested, Silco fell into sleep. His green eye closed and the red one rolled back, leaving blackness in its stead.

What felt like only seconds into sleep, there came a hesitant knock at his bedroom door. Silco groaned. Could the child not give him a moment’s peace? He saw her heartbroken eyes, in his mind, filled with betrayal and fear. He drew a deep breath and got up. He opened the doors,

“What’s wrong?”

Powder fidgeted,
“It got loud again…even with the pretty glow of the water creatures.”

Silco’s initial irritation vanished.

“Hmm. Would you like me to read to you?”

Powder nodded.

“Alight then.”

Powder plopped back on the sofa as Silco groggily scanned the volumes that filled the shelves of his office. Most of it was nothing fit for a terrified little girl. He made a mental note to have a book of fairytales procured for her. She would need things to occupy herself as he worked.

What had he gotten into?

His hand hovered over an old book of poetry. He knew how this would go even before he slipped it from the shelf and settled next to her on the sofa.

“Poetry?! You read poetry??”

Powder was aghast at the revaluation as he read the book’s title aloud.

Silco was too tired for this but nonetheless he was patient with her.

“I always made sure to read everything. Science, history, philosophy, literature, and yes, that includes poetry.”

Powder stared at him with wide wonder.

“Why?”

“When I was young, I wanted nothing more than to escape and I found that escapism by reading, nonfiction and fiction alike.”

Powder yawned,
“Ok, give me poetry then.”

Silco flipped through the old tome, well-worn and dog-eared.

“This one is peaceful… it’s about love and death, but I challenge you to find a poem which isn’t.”

“Sounds boring.”

She laid down, curling into a ball and closed her eyes.

After a few moments she spoke again,
“I’m waiting.”

“Very well…

Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Silco’s fingers lingered on the page. The last time he had read this, seemed a lifetime ago. A young revolutionary reading to a woman with kind but fierce eyes and lips that made him feel as if he was immortal. They were going to build a better world, the plans were drawn, the alliance made, friends joined together to fight for their future.
Vander took up the lead, he was strong and fearsome, and a true friend. That was before, of course.

That young woman, whose name he would not allow himself to recall, now lay lost beneath the river waters, her body mutilated with holes enforcers had put there. She had been the first casualty but not the last, as they regrouped and tried again, the bloody riots. Piltover needed to know they'd stop at nothing to achieve a better life…but then Vander threw it all away, allowed his pain to become his undoing, instead of using it to fight. And all that explosive rage inside him was thrown at Silco in a defining act of betrayal.

Silco nearly joined the woman in the river that night. The temptation to sleep forever next to her, had been great to resist, until he decided, no. He would survive. He would do right by all those who'd fallen when he brought the Nation of Zaun to life and made Piltover fall to their knees.

Silco tore his attention from the book at last. He eyed the child, who was deep asleep. She had unraveled from her ball and sprawled out, one arm dangling off the side of the sofa, the other crossed over her chest, her legs thrown over Silco’s lap.

He had been so engrossed in reading and the memories that piece brought, he had not noticed. Now his mouth pulled downward into a frown.

He closed the book and set it on the side table; then as carefully as possible, he made to pick up her legs and free himself.

Immediately she whimpered and stirred. He released her legs and she quieted again. She had not woken.

Silco’s brow creased.
His focus had been to exact revenge on Vander; force him to see with the ever crumbling state of Zaun, they needed to take up arms together again, but he had been weak. Vander had refused. Silco’s plans never included bringing a weeping, angry, traumatized little girl into his keep.
He had never wanted a child around, the Undercity was no place for one; but when she had told him of her sister's betrayal, something stirred in Silco. A fierceness to protect her, to avenge her.

Trapped beneath the sleeping girl, that he was somehow now responsible for, Silco leaned his head back against the sofa. It had been a hell of a night. The events morphed together in his mind, Vander’s hands around his throat again, his blade sliding almost too easily into the man's back, the explosion. Sevika shoving him out of death’s path, losing her arm in the process.

…And Vander’s death.

Silco could finally breathe.

Then the blue haired little girl, who so reminded him of himself, grasping onto him as if he was her only source of survival. In truth, he was, and Silco would do everything in his power to ensure she did in fact, survive this. This he could give her, teach her. She would become strong. She had to. There was no other way to survive the ruthlessness of the Under City and the crushing destruction of Piltover's boot.

Chapter Text

It was late when Silco woke. The immediate crick in his neck reminded him that he had not gone to his bed and instead slept in his office.

He peered down. Sure enough he was still the little girl’s hostage. This time, he did pick up her legs and free himself.

Still half asleep, her expression was uncertain. She did not yet recognize him, nor where she was. She blinked a few times before his face became clear to her. She gasped, startled into an upright position.

Hmm perhaps he would start wearing makeup so as to not add to her already fragile, frightened state .

Her gaze fell as she shyly fumbled with the much too long sleep shirt.

“Let's get our day started. Come with me.”

She followed obediently through the doors into his room and then towards the master bathroom.

He retrieved a spare toothbrush, squirted some toothpaste on it and handed it to her.

The ornate golden mirror reflected quite the sight; tall lanky Silco, with his monstrous face and the tiny timid girl, brushing their teeth side by side. Their hair was unruly from sleep and there was a heavy air of uncertainty that accompanied this new adjustment.

Silco took a comb and brushed back his jet black hair, slicking gel through it to ensure not a single stand would be out of place. He handed the comb to Powder.

“I know a brush would be better but it's been years since I've had my hair long enough to require one. We'll get you situated today though.”

She still said nothing, just took the comb and attempted to rip through her hair.

He painfully watched her.

“That won't do, will it?”

She sighed in defeat,

“Not really.”

Silco offered his hand out for the comb and she handed it over. He dipped it in water, and mumbled,

“Turn around.”

She did without protest. He carefully started at the bottom and worked his way through the tangles, reaching for the conditioner to aid him. This caused Powder's lips to twitch in amusement. He took extra precaution so as to not end up with a similar wound as Eliza. Silco smirked to himself.

Time passed slowly as neither one of them spoke. At length he managed to tame the mess of blue.

“Now you should be able to braid it.”

Powder’s brow furrowed and she bit her bottom lip anxiously.

Silco watched her, trying to gage her mood,

“Unless you don't want to of course, seems like it would be out of your way, but whatever pleases you.”

“It's not that.”

She glared at the ground.

“Vi…my sister, she always braided it.”

Powder grimaced as she spoke the name. She jerked her head to the side in an unusual manner. Her panic rose and she tried her best to contain it but she squirmed restlessly. It deeply disturbed her to say this name aloud.

Silco committed this fact to memory and decided he would avoid using her sister's name in the foreseeable future. 

“Ah. So you don't know how to braid.”

She shook her head, anger building in the way she took short, annoyed breaths. She couldn't do anything right, not even her own hair.

“We'll find someone who can take care of that for you. In the meantime, are you hungry Powder?”

“I don't know.”

His initial agenda for the day would have to be revised, however he had expected as much. Even if his plan to recruit Vander had been successful, it would have been an adjustment to work together again. Last night, Vander was either to join him or be killed. It had been a simple choice but the stubborn bastard had picked poorly…And now Silco had a child to deal with.

It was new territory. He hadn't had parents, they'd abandoned him to the merciless streets, and never in his adult life had he been around children. The only relevant experience was that he knew how he had been destroyed for years over a similar betrayal. He had to fight his way to survive, ever since he was around her age, if not younger. She wouldn't have to struggle the way he did. Silco had the financial resources and had gained enough status that it would be easy to provide for her. He would guide her with her pain and show her how she could use her anger, her heartbreak, to become a force to be reckoned with. She might not know it yet, but she would be ok. She wasn't happy now, how could she be with such a devastating loss? -besides, happiness was a fool's dream in a place like this; but, she would be protected, perhaps even thrive.

And he could get back to running his budding empire which would improve all their lives.

He wearily left the room, back to his office and walked over to his desk where he retrieved paper and pen. Powder crept behind him.

“Besides clothes, what do you need?”

“I donno.”

She didn't look up at him. Silco pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he thought and began to write.

“Well, we'll start with a book of fairytales to keep your mind busy.”

“A book?”

Now she stared at him, clearly judging his idea.

“Yes Powder, a book, you don't want to be illiterate.”

“I don't know what that means but I can't read.”

The pen stilled in his hand, then he scribbled down,

“Book of Fairytales and reading lessons.”

Powder groaned.

“Do I have to?”

Silco softly chuckled.

“You'll need to eventually help me, and that will require reading. No one gets anything for free here in the Under City. Even at your age, you must know that.”

His eyes shot to her, just as he expected her expression changed into determination.

“I can help.”

There was an edge to her voice, a mixture of trepidation and excitement. She wanted to be useful, Silco understood this.

“Good, you'll learn to read then.”

“Ok.”

“Now, what do you do to occupy your free time?”

“I make Mousers.”

“What are mousers?”

“Bombs.”

Silco’s green eye widened.

“-but they never work. The last one did though!”

Her excitement fell away and her eyes darkened. Tears began to fall but she did not allow herself to sob as she had last night, this was a silent cry, unable to suppress but still showing admirable control for one so young.

Silco stared at her thoughtfully,

“That explosion last night was your doing?”

She suddenly leapt from her seat and cried out,

“Yes! Everyone is dead because of me and Vi was right, I'm just a …a Jinx!”

She spun around, startled, looking around the room like a caged animal. She began apologizing repeatedly to the shadows before becoming overwhelmed and dropping to the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs.

“I didn't mean to… I didn't mean to.”

Silco moved silently from the desk and knelt beside her on the floor.

“Your sister is gone now. She chose to walk away. We cannot force those to stay with us once they decide to leave our lives, whatever the reason may be.”

Powder raised her head, gripping her arms around her legs even tighter.

His gaze lingered on the bruise which had formed around her nose and lip, a souvenir from the last encounter she had with her sister.

His voice was low but certain in the way he dragged the syllables to accentuate his meaning

“So you messed up. So people died. That doesn't make it right for your sister to abandon you. We all make mistakes, Child.”

Her eyes shifted back and forth between the mismatched ones before her, trying to figure out where she should look. She settled on the green one and physically relaxed her hunched shoulders.

“That bomb was quite impressive. I think with practice, you could learn to make weapons that would help the people of Zaun gain their independence.”

She smiled hopefully,

“I could help people.”

“Absolutely. We can help people together. We can lead Zaun to victory, it takes power, and I believe you are powerful.”

She stared at him with such earnestness and apprehension.

“I want to be.”

“You are and I will help you find it and free yourself. True power doesn't belong to those strongest of muscle or mind, but to those with the strongest hearts, those who will do anything to make their dreams a reality.”

He thought for a moment, observing her. She needed to be needed, she needed to matter, and she needed tasks to give her purpose.

“I have something you could help me with now, actually.”

He stood and she eagerly followed. 

Silco reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the syringe and Shimmer vial.

“I have to inject this serum into my eye everyday at the same time. If I don't, it will lose function and go blind.”

He motioned to the blazing red orange orb burning against a black sclera.

“It's…never easy and quite painful. I tend to find myself struggling with the psychology of staring at a needle positioned to the center of my eye. If I show you how to use the syringe, do you think you could manage to take over this burden for me?”

Powder stared at him in awe. Silco mused over his decision to trust a child to stab him in the eye. He understood all too well what feeling worthless did to a person. This little girl clearly had deep underlying fears centered around unworthiness. He would show her she was worthy. Worthy of trust, of responsibility, of a place in this world. She'd get over the squeamishness and do just fine. 

Or, so he hoped .

“I can do this.”

“I’d appreciate it greatly.”

He patted his desk for her to jump up. She did and took the syringe from his hand.

Silco leaned his head back against the chair to steady himself for her. Powder took her time. She carefully observed the swirling colored eye and focused on the pupil.

Then she jammed the needle into the center of his eye with direct precision. It retracted back into the syringe.

Silco’s head launched forward with an inhuman snarl, his long thin fingers gripped into his legs with enough force that his hands shook. Spit flew from between his jagged teeth as he hissed in pain.

Powder froze, eyes immediately welled up with tears.

“Did I mess up? I'm sorry! I thought- I thought- I'm sorry! Please don't throw me out -please, please, please!”

Silco held a hand out for her to give him a moment while he threw his head back, breathing heavily, and wiped the purple shimmer tears from his cheek.

He rasped out,

“No. You were perfect.”

Powder slowly calmed as Silco regained his normal, collected composure. Her mind wrapped around his words:

You were perfect.

“Throw you out? I'm not going to throw you out.”

“What if I mess up?”

“Then you'll fix it.”

“What if it's not fixable.”

“Then I'll have it taken care of anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because I believe in loyalty and those who are loyal, do not abandon their own.”

She hung onto his every word, sapphire eyes pleading.

He hummed.

“You have my loyalty, Powder. Do I have yours?”

She met his gaze fully, no more apprehension. Powder nodded slowly, meaningfully.

“Yes.”

“Good. We have a deal then? Mutual loyalty? No going back on our word. No sacrificing the other for any supposed, ‘greater good.’”

Powder stuck her hand out.

“We do. I promise.”

Silco eyed the outreached hand and clasped it with his. 

“As do I.” 

They shook on it.

Powder felt confident enough to voice a nagging question she’d had from the moment she'd seen him.

“What happened to your face?”

Silco paused. Should he tell her and crush her memories of family? He had just promised her his loyalty and truth was a part of that.

“Vander wasn't the man you thought he was. He was like a brother to me and he betrayed me. It's not so different a tale than yours, only he gave me this to remember him by.”

Silco's hand swept over the wounds which would never fully heal.

Powder’s lip trembled.

“V-Vander did that?”

Her fingers twitched.

“He did. I trusted him with my life and he nearly took it.”

Her voice was small,

“Why?”

“Isn't that the ever burning question? -but we don't always get answers. Sometimes people turn and we never get to know the why . It'll drive you mad if you linger on it too long…Trust me.”

The corners of his mouth turned upward bitterly.

“Now, shall we continue your list of the things you need, and want ?”

He emphasized the word.

“Things I want?”

“Of course. It’s very important as we both have our own work to do and our own tasks to enjoy in our free time.”

Together they finished the list and Silco sent a subordinate to fill it. He also had them clear out a room that had been a holding place for items collecting dust, into a bedroom for her. For some reason unknown to Silco, it was extremely important to her to pick the color of her bedding, adamant that it be emerald green. It was an easy enough demand for him to indulge. 

That night they ate dinner together, though the child insisted she still didn't want to eat.

Silco had to figure out how to encourage her without demanding her. She didn't seem the type that would do well if given commands instead of choices.

“Ah, you're still not hungry? That's a shame because I am and it would have been rather nice to have company for once. You see, unless it's business, normally I dine alone.”

Powder’s mind buzzed. She was wanted. 

“Oh, um…I can join then.”

“Well, it would be awkward for me to eat in front of you while you just sat there.”

He feigned a crooked self-conscious smile.

“Oh.”

Powder’s brows scrunched together deep in thought. At length she came to a decision.

“I guess … ok, I guess I'll eat…just so you're not alone.”

Powder ended up scarfing down the food and getting seconds. She truly was so similar to him when he'd allowed his emotions to control him, not eating from guilt or pain, wasting away. He would make her strong. She need not suffer under his watchful eye.

“I enjoyed your company Powder.”

There was a little smirk on her face.

“You're alright.”

Silco softly chuckled, his voice dripping sarcasm,

“Well, thank you so much for that.”

Powder grinned. 

…

Hair still wet from their showers, Silco attempted to get someone -anyone, to braid Powder's hair. He offered payment, favors…but all attempts were for naught. The story with Eliza had gotten around because no matter what the offer was, no one would touch the child’s hair.

This left Silco sitting at his desk, Powder atop it, as he fumbled with the strands of blue.

He was careful not to hurt her but his braiding skills were abominable. Even after several attempts and about an hour later, the two braids were uneven and pathetically loose.

Silco finally gave up.

“Clearly I will have to practice this, but at least this should keep your hair from getting tangled during sleep.”

Powder shrugged just relieved to have it out of her face as its presence there annoyed her.

“Well, goodnight then.”

Powder didn't move.

Silco watched her,

“Are you not ready to go to your new room? I thought you liked it earlier?”

“...I do.”

“Hmm…Then, I think it's probably time to get some sleep, I know I need to. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

Powder dropped her head and slid off his desk dejectedly. 

She loitered, drawing invisible spirals with her finger on the desk. Time ticked on and still she didn't leave. 

Brows knitted together Silco frowned.

Wordlessly she reached out and tugged on his sleeve but wouldn't meet his gaze. 

Hesitantly he stood up. Without releasing his sleeve, she led him to her room .

Powder sat on the bed and picking up her new plushie, she mumbled into it:

“You could sit too, if you want.”

Silco didn't sit. He remained where he was, a few steps away from her and observed the room. Everything she had asked for was there. The tools and boxes of parts to work on her gadgetry (which was not to be worked on inside their home but in a separate warehouse he owned), a chair and desk, atop it: markers, paints, crayons, paper, a gilded brush, some sort of purple candle, (again the child had been very specific about her preference of color palette), and above the bed of emerald green, hung a poster of a unicorn.

It was strange for Silco, to have a child's bedroom in the same vicinity he resided.

“...or not.”

She sunk into herself.

Still Silco lingered, overly cautious, he did not understand what she wanted from him, yet the way she withdrew further and further into herself, the way she physically crumbled, had his feet moving again on their own accord. He sat beside her on the bed.

Her mood immediately lifted and she scooted closer to him until her side was pressed against his. 

She was so little, so young, and so hurt by the cruelty of the world. She wanted comfort, physical touch, to be held and to feel safe. 

Unfortunately Silco could not give this to her. It had come naturally to him the night he found her and she’d catapulted herself into his arms. It was an instinct to protect her. Yet, now he remained with his hands in his lap, utterly immobile. Silco’s mind raced. He was strong now, he had survived against all odds. He had fought his way through the lanes with nothing, he had come from nothing, and now he was becoming what others feared. He was gaining influence, power and it was only growing. 

So, why could he slit a man's throat, watch him bleed out and not bat an eye, but the idea of… hugging a needy child paralyzed him?

Silco was a stranger to affection. The physical contact he was familiar with, was bruises and chipped teeth. He knew the taste of blood well and when he'd finally found true friendship, when he'd learned how… good it felt to be given that physical affection, well it had all ended up in loss and betrayal. Her , sleeping somewhere beneath the river; Vander , that once warmth of friendship turned lethal-

It was all just bruises and blood all over.

Silco had grown cold, learned that cruelty was a tool to be used in necessity if it served a greater purpose. What greater purpose was there than freedom; than the right to live and not only survive? Only his fire for revolution remained ablaze. The fight for Zaun was all consuming, it left no room for other …obligations.

His stony stature didn't dissuade Powder. She leaned her head against his narrow shoulder, somehow finding a little of that comfort she dearly sought. 

Silco swallowed hard. She was…certainly something wasn't she? He told himself she was a child of the Under City, she was a piece of the puzzle, providing for her only added to his plans for a better future for all of them. He was exactly where he needed to be, focused on the Nation of Zaun.

He had been quiet for some time now, his thoughts too loud, but the pins and needles sensation of his right arm pulled him back into the present. He gazed down, Powder was slumped against his arm, deep asleep. Having no other choice, he had to wrap his other arm around her and try to lean down to guide her sleeping form to the bed. Thankfully she did not wake.

He flexed his fingers to restore blood flow.

Silco took a step to leave but turned back to her. After a moment, he covered her with the blanket, turned on his heel, and silently left her room.

high__________ @High_Kun

Noi (@mmmeeaou) on X

^ Silco's, " feigned crooked self-conscious smile." ...This man is terrifying and we love him for it.

Chapter Text

Silco dropped his head back and took a long drag from his cigar. The swirling tendrils of smoke caressed his throat like the fingers of a deadly lover. He was a man who embraced his vices. 

Tonight his demons led him and his cardinal sin was wrath.

Silco stood and walked to the gagged man tied to a metal chair. He leaned over him. Scarred face and blazing lidless eye, met the man’s terrified gaze with the calmness of a still lake.

Lazily, he took his cigar and pressed it against the man’s cheek.

The Man’s screams were muffled by the gag but the instant tears pouring down his face and wild thrashing caused Silco’s lips to twist into a cruel smirk. 

“Come now, there's no escaping retribution.”

The man desperately tried to speak around the gag. Silco clasped his hands behind his back and watched him squirm like the worm he was. At length Silco slipped out his dagger and holding the cold blade against the man’s mouth, he cut the gag, slicing the corner of the man’s mouth with his vicious strike.

The man spit blood and attempted to plead,

“Please, please I’m sorry. They said they would help us if I gave them names and locations!”

“Us? Who's us?”

“...Me and and…they said they’d back off the Under City!”

“So, You think yourself a hero, selling secrets to the very enforcers who condemn us to unspeakable horrors? Those who believe us, less than . And they still hunt us like animals. Ah, we are nothing more than the forgotten filth beneath their boots. Do you know how many of us they killed in the riots? Most of us, senselessly murdered in pursuit of freedom, and the rest tortured. No man, woman, or child they captured was spared. Not even I could be so monstrous…”

He leaned down and whispered in the man's ear,

“…and I make an excellent monster.” 

Silco ran long thin fingers through his hair. He moved with intentional slowness , a predator toying with his prey. Then adorning gloves, he jammed a metal contraption inside the man’s mouth, forcing the jaw open and pinched the tongue between his fingers.

“Oh, I had a visitor meet your enforcer friend earlier, unfortunately you won’t be working with him again.”

The man’s eyes widened.

“Any last words?”

The nonsensical sounds coming from the man’s throat shrieked in intensity.

“A shame, it seems, the cat caught your tongue.”

Silco dug the dagger into the man’s tongue, sawing it from his mouth. Blood splattered, gushing down the man’s chin.

“You’ll never speak secrets again… if you manage to survive, that is.”

Silco threw the tongue on the ground at the man's feet and turned to his second in command. Sevika, with her newly fashioned metal arm, nodded once. She huffed but untied the man, who collapsed to the ground, crawling around aimlessly before falling unconscious.

They left the warehouse, walking into the night together, blood stained and arrogant. The city shrunk away from the infamous death dealers.

…..

After Silco washed away all physical evidence of his crimes, he made his way to his office. His work never done, he looked over the notes his informant had provided, double checking everything had been taken care of; this recurring habit of enforcers infiltrating and imprisoning their people, would drastically come to a halt. Silco would have the tongueless man’s enforcer, dumped on the bridge to Piltover. He’d be found by the rest of them by morning; lying there, his once crisp blue uniform, ran through with bullet holes. A bloody sunrise awaited Topside’s horizon. Let it be a warning to all enforcers,

stay out of Zaun . 

He poured himself a glass of whisky. Mind swimming with dark thoughts quieted to a hum as he took a generous sip, savoring the smooth burning sensation.

There came a knock at his office door. 

Silco sighed, annoyed to be broken of the momentary peace.

“I’m busy.”

He could hear footsteps outside the office hesitantly retreat but then stop.

Silco pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I know you’re still there. I said I’m busy.”

A tiny voice whimpered from the other side of the door,

“Sorry, I’m going.”

Silco’s eyebrow shot up.

“Powder? Powder, come in.”

The door handle turned and she lingered awkwardly on the precipice of his office. 

“I thought you'd be asleep by now.”

She pointed a toe and ground it in circles on the carpet.

“I… I have something.”

“You have something?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you have?”

She chewed her lip.

“Come here.”

She closed the door behind her and took an eternity to cross the room, her hands held self-consciously behind her back and head lowered.

Even for Powder she was acting odd.

Silco was exhausted and wanted to be alone with his drink, but whatever it was, he could not find it in himself to send the child away when she was so distraught. He knew what that would do to her… she could make it easier though by not taking a thousand years to approach his desk. 

She made it at last and said nothing, only stared at him with those large sapphire eyes dancing with anxiety.

He massaged his temple,

“Well what do you mean you have something?”

She didn’t answer.

Silco sighed,

“You have…an illness?”

She shook her head.

“You have…something to tell me?”

Her head dropped again,

“Kinda”

He moved his drink to the side to look at her directly. 

“Tell me what is wrong Powder, for all my skills I cannot read minds.”

His voice was stern but there was a little smile on his lips which cracked her shell. She giggled and tilted her head playfully to the side.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”

Silco raised an eyebrow.

“Hmm, am I going to lose a finger?”

Now Powder laughed obnoxiously.

“Maybeee.”

“How am I going to braid your hair if I lose my fingers?”

She pretended to ponder it,

“It’s not like you do so good now.”

Silco clasped his heart,

“Ah how your words do wound me.”

She was howling,

“Ok, fineee, I guess you can keep them.”

“That is a relief.”

She was bouncing where she stood.

“Close your eyes!”

Silco smirked,

“I can’t, remember? At least not both of them.”

Powder nodded thoughtfully,

“Then cover them with your hands.”

“I thought you needed my hands to be open for you?”

“I’ll make it work, ok? Just do it!”

At his look she added,

“Pleaaaaaase?”

Silco finally gave in to her and covered his eyes with his hands.

There was a soft clank.

“Now look!”

His hands dropped from his face. On his desk in front of him was a…cup? Handmade with an angry face drawn in green marker on it, adorned with pink and blue squiggles. 

He stared at it.

“I don’t know your favorite color, well more like you don’t know your favorite color, so I used some of mine.”

“This is why you were asking?”

“Yes.”

He tilted his head to the side in the same fashion she had,

“What if I said it was Powder blue?”

She snorted,

“You’d be lying. You already said you didn’t have one.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not.”

Silco picked up the cup in his hands and inspected it.

Powder danced from foot to foot as he failed to give her any sort of reaction.

“Do you like it?”

“Why does it have an angry face and two different shaped eyes?”

“It’s you. Duh.”

“Hmm.”

She tugged on a lopsided braid,

“Wadda think?”

Silco turned the cup in his hand.

“It’s perfect.”

Powder squealed in joy and invaded his personal space, violently crashing into his side, nearly causing him to drop the cup, while wrapping herself around his arm in pure bliss

Silco awkwardly patted her head with his free hand.

“I will use it immediately.”

She clung to his arm a moment more before she finally released him.

He poured his drink from the golden rim crystal, into the angry faced mug.

“Is this why you’re up so late?”

“Yeah, it needed the finishing touches!”

“I suppose that’s a good reason, but now I think it’s off to bed with you.”

She smiled brightly,

“Ok, Goodniiiight Silco”

She hugged his arm again and then twirled out of the room on her toes, very pleased with her success.

Silco eyed the cup again and a rare soft smile graced scarred lips. 

….

Piltover was gluttonous in its luxury. Gold, marble, fine arts, fine dining, greed and excess even filled the air with the sweet aroma of pastries as one walked the spotless streets. It made Silco sick. The way these people lived carelessly and for their rich lifestyles, all their toxic waste dumped into the Under City, his people killing each other over scraps. Piltover was everything wrong with the world, yet here Silco was, chasing the very same scraps, dressed in his finest suit, his coat cascading near the ground, flowing with each purposeful stride. A golden half mask obscured his face, the same golds which accented the deep burgundies he wore.

He strode into their agreed upon meeting place, “Decadent Delights.” A blind dining experience, where parties were taken through pitch black halls, with only a candle to light their way to their private rooms. Once inside the room, parties could opt to be blindfolded as mysterious courses, all promising an out of body experience of tastes and smells, would engulf them.

Silco was first to arrive and be led into the room. Already the smells merging from the dark hallway made his mouth water and he cursed himself for having any physical response to the pretentious Piltover attraction.

The waiter took his coat and he was seated. One could not just order a drink, instead Silco had to tell the waiter his poison of choice and they would surprise him with a cocktail. He rolled his eyes but agreed.

In the exceptionally dim room, one little candle flickered on the table. Silco watched it as the wax dripped steadily. His drink now in hand, he sipped it.

Damn, Piltover had the best imports . His green eye closed in bliss while the destroyed one crawled upwards into its blackness. The sensation of the drink tingled down his throat and burned in his chest, it was beautiful, and for Silco, laced with guilt. 

Time passed, the wax dripped and spilled onto the table now.

She’s not coming.

Silco’s brow furrowed, he had been so sure she would come but as he finished his drink, still there was no sign of her and he stood to leave-

When the door to their private room opened, and in, she entered.

Dark wavy hair, catching the soft light of the candle, fell just past her shoulders. She peered at Silco, with those familiar piercing eyes, from beneath the intricate silver mask. She was dressed in jewel tones. She didn’t walk but seemed to glide and her arrogance filled the room before she had even handed her coat to the server.

Silco stood up as the server pulled out her chair and she sat. 

She ordered a drink. 

The server brought her drink.

He left again.

They were alone.

She took a delicate sip of her drink, eyes not leaving his in the darkness. She couldn’t yet make out his face but the shadows of the candle danced against his silhouette, guiding her where to look. 

“Silco, the Industrialist, as you are now known.”

She removed her mask and leaned into the candle’s light. Still devastatingly beautiful, and colder than the ice which clinked in Silco’s glass.

Silco smirked, not yet opting to remove his mask.

“Counselor Kiramman , as you are now known. I am glad you accepted my invitation to discuss this project.”

She eyed him with exaggerated disdain, and yet there was a slight teasing in her regal gaze. 

“I was surprised to receive your letter. We haven't had contact since you stormed out of the library over a decade ago, with all the fire and indignance a teenage boy of the Under City could muster.”

Silco chuckled darkly.

“I must admit, forgiveness is not one of my virtues and that day you were a cliché cruel Piltie Elite …I still recall your exact words, ‘You come from nothing, that makes you, no one .”

Cassandra did not drop her gaze but held Silco's with the same fierceness she had always possessed.

“For that, I was wrong. I can admit it. I was but a girl and I think you know why I behaved so horribly. That's why I accepted your invitation to meet. I’ve owed you a kindness since that day.”

The server knocked and entered with their appetizers and offered the blind folds. Silco took the blindfolds and set them aside.

“For later, for… dessert .”

His gaze dangerously lingered on Cassandra,

“Actually, I don't know why that day you decided to use the exact words you knew would dissolve any affection I had for you.”

“Don't play coy, you know exactly.”

Silco tapped his fingers impatiently against his glass. 

“Believe it or not, I'm not in the habit of lying, nor repeating myself, Counselor Kiramman … I was surprised you changed your name, not that it was hard to find your contact information, but you had been so adamant in youth about your identity. The girl I knew would never have changed her name, she would have made her husband take hers. I suppose though, we’ve both changed.”

He slipped off the mask. In the darkness of the room she couldn’t see it at first, not until the flickering of candle light caught his scars rather than casting more shadows, the red orange eye glowed with the flame of the candle.

She audibly gasped.

Silco’s thin lips and jagged teeth, formed a sharp, taunting grin,

“I considered warning you, but where would be the fun in that?”

Cassandra regained her composure, however the harsh expression she’d been wearing softened into one of confusion…perhaps even pity.

Silco hated being pitied. He hated Cassandra Kiramann , and he hated Piltover with all the passion of his ravaged soul. 

She huffed,

“You crossed the line. You kissed me without permission .”

“I didn’t know I had to ask in words , you gave me every indication. You think I didn’t pick up on your little games? All those accidental touches in the library? The way you sat close enough that I could feel the heat of your skin. The way you’d play with my hair. Come on, don’t you dare pretend it wasn’t your intention all along. You wanted me to break. You wanted me to lose control. It made you feel powerful. We were kids. You were discovering your sexuality and how to weld your femininity, and I was your plaything to test it out on. The difference was, you were never a game to me… you were… someone important….Ah, it seems a lifetime ago now.”

Cassandra sipped her drink and thought a moment before answering.

“You’re right. I did all of those things. You felt like sin to me and I’d never known anyone like you before. Leather clad Under City boy with long unruly black hair, green eyes that could’ve cut through glass, (her gazed flicked between his now mismatched eyes), wanting to improve his life, to learn, to read, to be more than the little box you were unjustly placed in. We spent hours in the library, secretly forming a union no others knew. I taught you to read, you taught me to open my mind. …Silco, I was absolutely fascinated by you. So, yes, I did play with you, but you are wrong about one thing… you weren’t just a game. You were my friend. When the reality of our inevitable romance exploded forth in your hard, forceful kiss, my first thought was… finally . My next thought was, you were too great a scandal. You would ruin me. So I snapped.”

Silco was quiet, contemplative.

“Ah, so my poverty was a fetish for you, perhaps you thought, I can fix him ."

“I did.”

 He smiled without humor. 

“I used to dream that you would, before that day. That I could be something, someone at your side.”

“And I used to dream about running away with you, leaving all my responsibility behind. I thought of it so much, it scared me that I might actually do it.”

Silco raised a brow,

“Well I never imagined that the Piltover Princess had any ideas in her pretty little head about being swept into the grime of the Under City. You wouldn't have lasted one day down there, you wouldn't have lasted one day with me, not the life I lived. You were right, I came from a world that had nothing. I was no one. But not anymore.”

Cassandra finally cracked and sighed with genuine regret.

“I was cruel to you, it was undeserved but I was a child.”

“We were both children, Cass- Counselor Kiramnan. Just from different worlds.”

He dragged her married name off his tongue with slow spite, but his lips hinted at the light mockery in their curved state.

Cassandra nodded,

“I want you to know, I mourned you, even lit a candle for you, night after night. Your name was on the list of all those who'd died on the bridge during the bloody riots. My parents had no idea of course, why I locked myself in my room for days… crying. Crying as if the tears would never stop. It didn't matter that I hadn't seen you in years, I remembered you and I grieved you. You can imagine my surprise when your name started making rounds recently. Successful Industrialist Silco… I dropped my favorite bone china tea cup, it shattered.”

“I did die that day, at least the me that you knew.”

“Have you ever gone to the memorial on the bridge?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I lost people who meant the world to me. I see no point in partaking in the display of public weeping over bodies that were hardly recognizable from all the blood, all the holes blasted through their chests, their faces, their necks…”

The snarling rage in his voice grew distant, now heavy with memory,

“...the way Enforcers’ guns explode a person’s skull apart…and you’re somehow in the middle of it -your friend who was just standing beside you, is no more than … chunks scattered across the bridge.”

A hand reached into the darkness and touched him. Silco flinched violently away. 

… Cassandra, it was only Cassandra .

 He fully returned to the present,

“I assume you've never seen war.”

“That's true.”

“War doesn’t leave you, not even after it ends. Sometimes it sleeps in the back of your mind, but when you least expect it…(He grimaced, words dying on his tongue).

I don't want to look at the list of names, see pictures of all those I lost. All those I watched, blown to pieces before my eyes.”

“I never thought about it that way.”

“Why would you? You have always been the reigning class, having tea parties above the ground of countless corpses. You drain us of everything, our natural resources dried up and yet some of us still live, despite it all. The people of Zaun deserve more than their runoff.”

Cassandra sipped her drink.

“I didn't see the war but I saw the bloodstains. My family tried but they couldn't keep me away from sneaking out to honor your memory, whether or not you think it pointless. If you ever do go there, you'll find a framed photograph of us.”

There was a knock and the next course was presented.

It consumed the senses with strange spices from far away lands, which seemed to burn through the air, focusing: smell, taste, touch, anything other than sight, to guess the meal. They dined in the blackness, feeling for the food, for the silverware. The savory spices left a pleasurable slight sting on the tongue, soothed with more mystery cocktails.

There was no time in a place like this, only the pitch black and the sensory overload of those tastes and smells. There was an intimacy to a dinner like this; behind closed doors, draped in shadows and the dizzying effects of alcohol, conversation lacked barriers.

Silco leaned his head back against the plush chair, freely succumbing to the alluring spiral his senses were sending him through.

“Do you want me to ruin you, Cassandra?”

He couldn't see the woman across from him but the way her body squirmed in her seat, her leg accidently hitting him from beneath the table, allowed him to feel his question upset her propriety. 

And it thrilled him.

Silco reached under the table and grabbed her leg. 

A dark breathy laugh escaped his lips,

“It seems that you’re under my control, perhaps I should drag your highness to the ground.”

“No Silco. I am a woman of honor.”

He released his hold of her and she kicked him with the toe of her boot. He grunted.

Silco moved the candle closer so that it illuminated their faces.

“That’s a shame, but at least I, ‘ asked for permission ,’ this time.”

His lips curved teasingly and the ever stoic Cassandra smiled in sincere amusement, a rarity for her strict detached mannerism. 

For this stolen moment in time, they were friends again; not Counselor Kiramann and Silco the Industrialist, just Cassandra and Silco, two teenagers bantering and baiting one another, as the conversation flowed as easily as the drinks. 

The dessert course was announced and the server prepared their table by moving the candle. Always dignified, never clumsy, both parties laughed too loudly as they struggled to tie their blindfolds in their tipsy state. 

Silco and Cassandra blindly reached for the dessert, smacking each other’s hands as they reached for the silverware. 

Silco mused,

“Did you ever imagine yourself blindfolded with me?”

“Many times.”

He stilled. He’d planned to tease her into slight discomfort again, but she was the one who had left him speechless. 

“Ah, for once he has nothing to say and I have won.”

“I wasn’t aware we were battling.”

“We’ve been battling since this dinner began.”

“Fair enough.”

At the first bite, delectably moist cake ruptured into creamy decadence and spilled down their chins. It was hot and sweet, messy, but balanced with the bitterness of espresso grounds. She could hear Silco lick some of the excess from his lips, followed by a soft moan. Nothing had ever tasted like this.

Silco never indulged in anything, the idea repulsed him. All this food, all this luxury…and at the same time it felt like the aching need of an addiction he’d been denied. Silco craved the finer things of life but would never leave the beautiful raw chaos that was Zaun. He would bring places like this to it. He would make it possible for Zaunites to be fulfilled with all the wastefulness Piltover had access to, but one step at a time. First, they needed to survive.

“So, what do you think of my idea to help Zaun?”

Cassandra hummed,

“Silco, I admire your project proposal. I agree, the Under City needs a ventilation system, but I have to ask, why do you wish to remain anonymous as the contributor, the very mind behind it?”

“I do not care for fame. I work best from the shadows. It's better that my name is kept out of the public, or at minimum, in the least.”

“Why is that, are you a part of some criminal organization now?” She laughed. 

Silco said nothing.

She must have taken off her blindfold because when she reached across the table and ripped his off, hers had already been discarded.

“Tell me you weren't the cause of the Enforcer’s body we found.”

Silco smirked, “a dirty cop playing both sides of the same coin, collecting and imprisoning Zaunites? He was on borrowed time each moment he stepped into the Under City with his harmful intentions. It isn't safe down there… not yet, anyway.”

She glared at him with suspicion. 

“No, I didn't kill him.”

Cassandra regarded him thoughtfully.

“I will make your ventilation system a reality. It isn't right that the Under City is poisoned by our pollution. I can see that.”

“Thank you, Cassi.”

The use of the old nickname caused her to raise her eyebrows. There was a hint of softness in his voice, something close to forgiveness.

He made to leave but she reached out and grabbed his wrist. He froze.

“What happened?”

Silco said nothing.

“Your face, your eyes , what happened to you?”

Silco ran his free hand through perfectly slicked back hair, causing a few strands to fall in his face. He looked younger then, a reflection of the boy she once knew.

“The same thing that always happens to me. One might say it's my curse.”

She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. 

He scoffed,

“Friendship.”

Her hand went slack. He took the opportunity to stand, toss the golden coins on the table, and leave.

….

Silco crossed the bridge, staying to the opposite side of the memorial. He paused. Somewhere amongst the endless candles, sealed cards which would never be read, flowers both fresh and dried, there was an old photograph of two kids, two friends, who came from opposite sides of the river…but that's not what caused Silco to adjust the collar of his coat higher, obscuring the view of the memorial… No. It was the idea that somewhere in the glowing mass of misery, Her name would be there. Silco was not a superstitious man, but he had blocked her name so sharply from memory that to read it would be his downfall. He had to remember Her only in distant dreams. Never in his waking moments, it was too dangerous, that possibility of unraveling …Silco had died with Her . Silco had downed by Vander's hand. Whoever stood in his place now, had the same name but a different face, a different personality, a different view of the world… Silco the Industrialist was a man of shadows and steel and …an emptiness which created a void so vast, one simply passing would be dragged down to its horrors, the terror of complete and total isolation.

The image of the little blue-haired girl popped into his mind. He had to get back now, he had… responsibilities to attend to. He wanted to see her and any crazy creations she had invented today. 

^ Silco and Cassandra, early teenage years

.

^ Silco and Cassandra current fic time (early 30's)

Chapter Text

It was nearly dawn when Silco returned but Powder was still awake. She had been busy, all day and night working on her gadgetry and learning the mechanics of proper wiring.

Silco called Powder into his office. She sat on his desk, swinging her feet. He held his hands behind his back, obscuring her view of something.

She tossed her head side to side and with a sing-songy voice demanded,
“Come-on, show-me!”

Silco handed a box to Powder. It was gold with a silver bow. She opened it eagerly. Inside was a ridiculously decorated pastry, adorned with icing flowers, edible glitter, and sprinkle pearls.

Silco had grabbed something for the child on his way out, he figured she too, should enjoy the rare treat of Piltover's desserts.

“It smells amazing! Where’d you get it?!”
“I had to travel a bit for the business dinner, this was one of the desserts they offered."

She excitedly took a huge bite of pastry, frosting clinging to the tip of her nose.

She spoke with a full mouth, little crumbs flying about.

“THIS-IS-THE-BEST-THING-I-EVER-TASTED!”

Silco gave a small bow of his head, pleased with her enthusiasm.

“Do you wanna bite?”

Silco eyed the pastry, now squished between her hands and half devoured.

“It's for you to enjoy. I've had my fill for the evening.”

“Did ya have one of these?”

“No.”

“Well at least try a little taste, you don't know what you're missing.”

She shoved the mutilated treat in his face. Her large blue eyes pleading.

What choice did he have? He took a small bite of the mushy pastry and internally shuddered in disgust at eating after a child.

“Isn't it sooo yummy?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes …Powder?”

She snorted,
“Admit it, it's yummy.”

“It has a rather splendid taste.”

“Say it.”

Silco rolled his eyes,
“It's quite yummy, Powder.”

She laughed obnoxiously.
“Finally getting you to talk more normal!”

Silco shrugged,
“A rarity I assure you. What did you work on today? Do you have any projects you can share with me?”

“Yes!! Ok hold on- stay there and I'll be right back!”

She finished the pastry and licked her fingers, the same sticky fingers wrapped around him in a tight squeeze before she bounced out of the room.

Little smudges of frosting and glitter dusted his shirt.

Powder returned with a small metal…what did she call them again? …Mouser.

She proudly handed it to Silco. It had a decent weight to it. It was round with little mouse ears, and a face drawn on it.

“What does this one do?”

“It works! I'll show you!”

She snatched it back from his hands.

“Powder, we don't set off bombs inside the house.”

“Then come outside with me!”

He conceded to her wishes.

The little ball with mouse ears slipped from her hand. The child quite literally, just dropped a bomb.

“Oh shoot!”

Silco’s eye widened.
He barely had time to panic before the room exploded…

…in bright coloured paint, splattering the walls and furniture.

Powder stared at Silco. Neon pink paint covered his face, his clothing, it was everywhere.

Powder, who was now also pink, flashed a worried grin.

“I told you it worked this time.”

Silco remained motionless, the pink paint dripping from his hair.

“I can see that.”

Powder suppressed a giggle.

“I'm sorry.”

Shell-shocked, it took him a moment to answer her.
“...That's …ok. I'll get someone in here to clean up.”

Powder tilted her head to the side.

“Pink looks nice on you.”

Silco raised his chin and glared down at her.

“Say that again and you'll be the one cleaning this mess… alone.”

She snorted.

“Ok ok, sorry …Pinky.”

Silco took a step towards her and she sprinted from the room, laughing wildly as she ran further and further away from him.

Silco watched her form disappear down the hallway before he grudgingly observed the damage of his office. He ran a hand through his hair out of habit, and felt the wetness of more paint smear into it.

Silco sighed.

…
Silco and Sevika looked over the map of the Under City, discussing the most efficient locations for the Ventilation system. Silco allowed Powder to partake in the decision, as she too was an important citizen of Zaun.

Powder took this role seriously and was currently in a screaming match with Sevika.

"THERE HAS TO BE ONE IN THE DEPTHS! YEAH WE'RE THE POOREST BUT WE ARE CHOKING OUT THERE!"

"Yeah well, we only get so many vents, Kid, and it makes more sense to place them on higher ground to get the best access to clean air!"

Powder threw her arms up, "Are you stupid or just not listening?"

"You are gonna learn some respect, Brat!"

"Ha that's rich coming from you, Ogre!"

Sevika raised her hand to the child, and Silco stood from his desk, acknowledging their argument at last.

"Sevika you will not touch that child."

Sevika huffed and placed her metal hand on her hip. Powder stuck her tongue out at her.

"Powder- stop antagonizing Sevika. She's on your side."

"No (I'm/she's) not!"

They both cried simultaneously.

Silco raised his brow,
"Ah I wasn't aware one of you was an enforcer of Piltover. Tell me, which of you are on the side of murderers? Of gluttonous imbeciles? Which one of you falls on the wrong side of history? Which one is responsible for killing Powder's parents, for killing Sevika's parents? ...yes that's right, you both have that in common."

They both glared down at their feet.

Silco sighed,
"We are all Zaun. We are all fighting on the same side, despite our differences...the only way we can ever reach a better future is to unite the Under City as one, this is the only way to defeat Piltover...they are a superior enemy."

"Ok boss, but she's still a little brat."

Powder smiled cruelly,
"And you're still an ogre."

Silco pinched the bridge of his crooked nose.

"Enough. Sevika, I have some documents that need to be delivered by end of day today."

"Which ones?"

"The ones that need to be delivered by today, April 26th."

He gave her a knowing look and she nodded, taking the documents.

“And, you're dismissed for the day."

"Not soon enough."

She strode out, not giving the brat another glance.

Powder, however, had turned pale. Her fire gone, she stared into nothing, hands gripping the side of Silco's desk.

She muttered to herself,
"April 26th, April 26th, April 26th...."

Her head jerked sharply to the side.

Silco glanced up from the map at her repetitive muttering. He was about to ask her what was going on when she bolted from the room. Silco watched her sprint away, knowing better than to try to keep up with Powder's ever changing moods. She would come to him when she wanted or needed something, in the meantime she had to have space to be....Powder, in all her constant inconsistency.

…
Powder stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. Her eyes were wild. The broken glass was streaked with her blood. April 26th. She had overheard them say it was April 26th.

“Powder! Powder, let me in.”

That voice, it was familiar to her, but she wasn't here and she wasn't Powder. She hated Powder. Powder was weak. Powder trusted wholly and loved blindly. Powder was stupid. Powder was cursed.

“Powder Powder Powder! She’s dead! Powder Powder Powder!”

From the other side of the locked door, Silco listened to the girl scream her own name in a sort of chant-like rhythm. A shattering sound of broken glass wailed from behind the door.

Silco grabbed the handle and made to shove his shoulder against it, to break it down if that was the only way to get to her….but he paused…

He had heard the glass break. He wanted the child to unlock the door herself, although he'd briefly considered breaking it down to get to her. His nerves danced on edge at the unknown extent of her self-inflicted injuries. Still… if he forced the door, he could make her worse. She could react with fear, with anger, it would be a breach of her trust …

“Pow-” he snapped his mouth shut. Each time he called out her name from this side of the door, she seemed to grow more frantic, angrier, he seemed to lose her further and further.

“Child- will you let me in?”

There was more banging and shrieking.

Silco tried again,
“I need your help with something.”

The banging stopped.

There was a click as the door unlocked.

Silco’s mismatched eyes met broken blue, before his gaze fell to her bloody hands.

“What happened?”

"I saw Vi in the mirror, she said I was nothing but a JINX! She was right there!”

He gazed at her thoughtfully.

Powder desperately cried out, "You have to believe me!!"

"I believe you."

Powder was about to scream, argue until he listened....but she didn't have to... Silco was already listening, he always did and he always believed her, nightmare after nightmare, he would be there, when those… ghosts, those horrible images and voices became too much, he would be there… no one had ever truly listened to her.

Silco knelt so that he was eye level with her,

"When something hurts you, you have to take it and make it your own; bend it to your will. It takes practice, time, and patience. Your sister's words are haunting you, but she cannot define who you are. Only you have that power.”

She looked up at him, eyes pleading and trying her best to be strong.

"I just ... don't feel like Powder anymore."

"That's ok. We all lose ourselves, we reinvent ourselves... sometimes parts of us die along the way. Hmph, young Silco wouldn't recognize me now, but he couldn't survive what I emerged from....he died that night in the dirty river...and a new man was reborn. It doesn't happen quickly, nor is it easy. It’s inevitable, feeling lost but you have to lose yourself to discover what you're made of.”

She faltered, and hissed through her teeth,
“It’s so hard…It's April 26th!”

Silco waited for an explanation as to why this mattered, none came.

“That it is…what shall we do about it?”

She squeezed her fists together, causing little blood droplets to fall.

“Destroy something.”

She was such a small child with more anger than she could control, she was shaking with rage, furious tears streaming down her face, which only added to her anger as she fiercely whipped them away, smearing blood all over her face. The tears broke past her control, no matter how hard she tried to keep them in. Her face was a mess of: snot, spit, and blood. She wiped it on the back of her sleeve and snarled.

Silco observed the dark depth of impact this date had on her.

“Hmm...I have an idea.”

Silco took her bloody little hand in his and led her across the property to the warehouse. Through a hidden door, he led her to a room she'd never been before.

The walls were lined with various weapons. One wall was daggers, knives, even swords, another, was an impressive display of guns, all kinds of makes and sizes.

“Woa.”
“Pick something to play with.”

Silco let the child walk towards the weapons wall and take her time to study them.

Silco shuffled through the targets,
“Would you rather harm a circle, an animal, or a person?”
He lifted the different paper targets so she could see them.

“Person.”
“Very well.”

He attached the target with the silhouette of a person.
When he was finished, he turned around to see the blue haired little girl holding a giant gun.

“Interesting choice. I tend to favor blades myself.”

“Not me. I wanna hear the boom!”

Silco eyed her.

“You know how to use a gun?”
“Pssh yeah.”
“One of this size?”
“Why not?”

She practically dragged it, heaving it up with all her strength to point at the target.
She'd chosen a true weapon of murder, she'd chosen a machine gun.

Silco took a moment to show her where the safety was and how to balance a gun of that size. He really wasn't a gun guy, but he knew how to use any weapon. You had to, so it was no surprise a little girl had grown up shooting all her life and was no stranger to guns. This was just another stark difference between a Zaun childhood and a sheltered Piltover childhood.

When she was ready he stepped to the side, away from the rain of shells he knew would spit out once she pulled the trigger.

Her finger lingered on the trigger and just before she pulled it she scoffed,
“April 26th is Vi’s birthday.”

Her finger squeezed the trigger and the shots exploded forth in rapid succession.
The noise was deafening, ringing in their ears, and seemingly unending. She yelled out in anguish as she clenched down the trigger with unnecessary force. She needed to destroy, she needed the gunshots to drown out her thoughts, she needed it loud, louder than the voices which taunted her. Loud enough to block out the voice of her once-sister.

The paper silhouette was completely demolished. Powder was panting. Her hair was sticking out of her braids and sticking to her sweaty forehead. She emptied the cartridge and switched the safety on, then laid the gun down. Her blood was on it. She started at that, fascinated by her own blood marking such a powerful weapon from her own hands, and in some sort of ritualistic act, she moved to the demolished paper and wiped her hand above the head, leaving a streak of pale red, which vaguely resembled hair.

Silco was cleaning the gun, watching her from the corner of his eye, but giving her the space to do what she needed to do.

She folded up the remnants of the bloody paper and then turned to Silco.

“I'm going to keep this for a while.”
“It's yours. The gun too, all of this, any of this, it's yours. You can come here whenever you like and…practice the art of weaponry. I only ask that you take someone with you.”

“I'm good at shooting.”
“Better than I.”

At this she cracked a little smile,
“Need me to protect you?”

Silco smirked,
“I have Sevika to stand in the line of fire, your place is by me, helping me reshape Zaun into the greatness it's meant to be.”

The child stared at him. He wanted her help. He wanted her around, didn't think of her as a burden.

“Now that we've had our fun, how about cleaning up those hands so you don't bleed out? I need your hands healed and steady to administer my eye injection.”

He needed her.

She was still getting used to this but it made her feel stronger. She did as he requested and cleaned her hands. Silco bandaged them for her, carefully wrapping them. His touch was soft, precise, but also…slightly lingering in what could be mistaken for affection.
She fought back tears, his thumb grazed the back of her now-bandaged hand. It was not even a second but to the little girl, starved for kindness, it was everything.

April 26th would forever be a cursed day for her. It marked the death of what was once a close and loving relationship. It was a stark lesson that even the most loving and trustworthy relationships could end in betrayal and abandonment. It turned a day of celebration and happiness into pain and sorrow. It was so consuming that, much like the wounds on Silco's face, it would never fully heal.

It marked the end of Powder. She did not know who she was, but she knew the innocent, hopeful and star-eyed little girl within her had died.

…
Shrill screams shattered the silence of night. Silco sat up, instinctively reaching for the dagger under his pillow.

Powder.

He entered her room, dagger in hand, only to find her alone, pounding her fists against the wall with all her force. The dagger slipped from his hand. Bloody streaks marked where her hands hit the wall repeatedly. The bandages he had wrapped earlier were torn off and tied around her plushies like gags. She spun around to face one of them and cried out, “SHUT UP!”

Silco froze, the sight branded into his mind.

“What are you doing? Stop that.”

She couldn’t hear him. Her screams climbed higher and higher, and she kept smacking her hands against the wall.

Silco reached out and grabbed her arms to stop her. She cried out and thrashed in his grasp. Holding onto her proved more difficult than he’d expected, and she whipped a hand free, clawing his arm with her nails as she frantically fought to escape.

He attempted to adjust his hold on her as she slipped through his grasp.

She bit down on his arm.

Silco drew a sharp breath but spoke softly,
“Feel what you need to feel, let the anger in and ride it out; you cannot keep it inside, it will break through no matter what, better to greet it head on.”

Silco could take the pain. He could take it for her. He had known far worse than a little girl's attack, better she mar him than herself. She could break her little fists on those walls she blindly threw her arms towards.

Silco climbed onto the bed, placing himself between her and the wall; creating a physical barrier preventing her from causing herself further harm, and pulled her fully into his arms. Her screams died down, giving way to hyperventilating.

He rested his head atop hers,
“It’s ok. I'm here. You are not alone. You’re safe.”

She sobbed, still lost somewhere far away but following his voice; a beacon of light reaching through the darkness of her mind.

“Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going to leave you.”
“Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going to leave you.”
“Please don’t leave me.”
“I'm right here.”

Finally she quieted, falling into an almost catatonic state. She stared ahead at nothing, made no more sounds but shaky little breaths.

Silco held her to him, with the same ferocity as their first meeting. His arms completely enveloped her.

“Can you come back to me, little one?”

She couldn’t respond, still lost in the forest of her taunting shadows.

At a complete loss on how to reach her, he would just be present until she could fight her way through her waking nightmares.

Silco began to hum a song, long forgotten from conscious thought but forever embedded in the recesses of his mind.

Her quick little breaths slowed and she leaned into him to feel his voice vibrating through his chest.

Powder inhaled deeply, his scent was a sharp contradiction of spiced cologne and acrid smoke. She latched onto this distinct smell, knowing she could keep her eyes closed and follow it to safety.

“Sleep child. A better future awaits.”
….…

Silco awoke, sitting up in Powder’s bed. She was gone.

He stood up and stretched, cracking his sore neck from the awkward position of sleep.

Where had the child gone?

Though the room was empty, in the off chance she was hiding somewhere, he called out,
“Powder?”

There was no response.

Hmm

Silco made his way to the workshop. Perhaps she had gotten up early and was already deeply involved with her creations.

He entered the warehouse.

“Powder? Are you here?”

No answer.

He continued to call her name and search the premises. When this proved futile he thought of the weaponry.

Alas…the weapons were all in place and no little girl could be found. Silco's heart skipped a beat. Where could she be? Had something happened to her? Had she…hurt herself?

His stomach lurched. Powder was capable of great destruction, nonexclusive to herself.

Silco broke into a determined pace. He called his subordinates into his office and gave them strict orders to find the child immediately.

Sevika let out a sigh.
“Boss she's probably playing a game, some sort of hide and seek.”

“As appreciated as your input is, Sevika…”
His tone laced with malice,
“I did not ask for opinions on the matter but results.”

She glared down at her boots.

“Right.”

They dispersed, leaving Silco alone in his office.

He roughly jerked his hand through his hair and paced his office.

Think, think. Where would a little girl go…or worse….who wanted to hurt her and where could they take her?

Her sister was long dead, that was no threat. So who else could possibly wish her harm?.... Or perhaps it had been noticed that she was Silco's…ward.

He ground his teeth together.

Piltover, Chem Barons, there was no shortage of enemies ... .but Powder had been in his home…it would have had to have been an inside job.

So, who of his staff would dare such a feat? He could think of none. They all either respected or feared him…or both.

Desperation edged its way through his head.

Silco suddenly swore and slammed his fists on the desk.

He stormed out of the office and called out Powder's name again and again. He searched each room, every possible hiding place…until in a final act of defeat, he tried her room once more. His footsteps made no sound; his long practiced stealth, now second nature.

That's when he heard it; soft little breaths catching with otherwise silent crying.

Silco listened for a moment, pinpointing the sound and kneeled down.

Sure enough, a terrified, trembling blue haired girl had scurried under her bed and had hidden there for half the day.

“Powder? I know you heard me calling you. I've been searching everywhere for you for hours.”

“I'M SORRY!” She retreated to the furthest corner under the bed.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

She said nothing.

Silco lowered himself from kneeling to laying flat on the ground, looking away from her and up to the ceiling. She had painted glow in the dark stars and almost hypnotic swirls, though how she got up there was a mystery to him.

“I wish you wouldn't hide from me. I thought we trusted each other. I trust you.”

A little voice cracked from under the bed,
“You still do?”

“I do.”

Neither one said anything else. The minutes ticked by. Silco started softly humming, the same tune as last night.

This peeked Powder's interest and she crawled closer, now poking her head from under the bed to look at him. His emerald green eye was heavy-lidded and relaxed. A sense of calm washed over her.

Silco felt her watching but just continued gazing up at the starred ceiling, humming.

“I like that sound. It's…nice.”

“Oh? I can't even remember where I first heard it, but I agree. It is nice. I recall some of the words, shall I teach them to you?”

“...Ok.”

Dear friend across the river
My hands are cold and bare
Dear friend across the river
I'll take what you can spare
I ask of you a penny
My fortune it will be
I ask you without envy
We raise no mighty towers
Our homes are built of stone
So come across the river
And find the world below

((Link to song:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xr4vmFptyFA&list=LL&index=33 )

Powder scrambled from under the bed and laid next to Silco on the floor.

Her eyes swept over his arms, covered in deep scratches and a clear imprint of a bite.

She flinched.

“I really am sorry. I…I couldn't see you, and they were so loud.”

He rolled to his side to look at her. The red and orange flame of his eye, swirling against blackness; carefully gelled hair escaped its confines and flopped over the scarred side of his face.

Silco spoke, ever softly,

“It's ok. Hurt others if it helps quiet the noise, but never hurt yourself.”

She scooted closer to him, reaching out she gently touched some of the scratches, drawing a pattern between them with her finger.

She'd done that to him, clawed him like some rabid creature, and he’d just …let her. This confused her. Usually she would've been in trouble for hurting someone…. Silco didn't seem bothered by it, fully accepting it as the accident it was… Guilt gripped her.

“I really didn't mean to though.”
“I know.”
“And you're not mad?”
“I'm not mad.”
“...Does it hurt real bad?”
At this, he smirked.

“No Powder. It does not hurt, ‘real bad’.”
“You really still trust me?”
“You're one of the only ones I can trust. In fact, it's time for you to help me with my eye injection.”

She nodded seriously and stood up. Silco followed her lead and together they went to his office to retrieve the syringe.

…..

Something changed after that night. Powder would become more vicious to those around her, delighting whenever she could startle or scare someone. She left smoke bombs for Silco's unsuspecting subordinates. Sevika had twice entered Silco's office, covered in a blue or pink powder and an expression that could kill.

“Let the child have her fun, Sevika. She must get her energy out somehow, at least she's creative… You know, pink looks good on you.”

Silco smirked. He was positive Sevika would’ve killed him then and there if she didn't believe so fiercely in his plans and his ability as a leader… That didn't mean she held her tongue when it came to what she thought about the, “brat’s bullshit.”

The other change was that, when Powder wasn't consumed with her work and her gadgetry, she lingered more around Silco. She would find places to hide around his office, of course he always knew when she was there and would entertain her games by questioning aloud, where could she be now? If only she would appear because he had a task for her.

Powder loved tasks. She lived for being useful and putting her mind to work.

She became more playful with him. Hiding under his desk and unlacing his boots or retying them into ridiculously large bows. He pretended to never notice and she was always pleased she could get away with these little pranks.

She got into the habit of coming to say goodnight each night, whether or not she or he would be actually going to sleep or stay up through the night with their projects. A shared ritual, much like the eye injection.

Weeks, months passed, but her nightmares did not. The voices always returned to tournament her but when it became too much to bear, she'd find Silco, and more often than not, he was very useful for shutting them up. He always had a plan or a distraction for her. Sometimes, he just had the presence she desperately needed, her constant in a world of chaos and confusion.

…..

Silco didn’t dare move as the child crawled into his lap. He was frozen as her little arms wrapped around his neck and her head nestled against his chest. Braids flopping as she found a comfortable position. After a few moments, her rhythmic breathing told him she had fallen asleep.

Sevika entered then,
“Boss I-”

Sevika had only seen the Eye of Zaun in his most powerful and ruthless form, she had never seen Silco so…helpless.

“Got your hands full huh?”

Silco said nothing. He did not know what to do, only felt that he should not move and wake the child who was drooling onto his suit.

His voice was soft and low,
“What is it you need, Sevika?”

She smirked,
“Maybe I should ask you that, look'n a bit lost there.”

Silco silenced her with a look that wiped the smirk from her face.

She cleared her throat,
“The Doctor believes the next stage of Shimmer is ready to be tested.”

“Ah, now that is interesting news. I will get a…volunteer to him within the week.”

She nodded.
“Is that everything?”
“Yes, Boss.”
“Then, I will see you in the morning.”
She took another glance at the sleeping blue haired little girl wrapped around Silco. Rolling her eyes, she took her leave.

Silco, painstakingly, brought one of his hands to the top of the child’s head, he stroked her with a gentleness he was unaccustomed to but felt…terribly natural.

She started whimpering against his chest, another nightmare.

He wrapped his arms around her, shushing her.
“I told you, everything will be ok. I am here now and I will not fail you.”

“You won’t leave me?”
“Never.”
“What if I disappoint you?”
“You won’t.”
“I always disappoint.”
“You’re stronger than you know, Powder.”

She flinched at her name. Glancing around the room frantically before shaking her head vigorously and looking up at Silco once more.

“I…I'm not her anymore. I don’t want to be Powder.”
“Who do you want to be, Child?”

She thought for a moment, and her fear subsided, a wicked little grin spread across her face.

“Jinx.”
“Jinx? Hmm.”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“Then, Jinx is perfect.”

Silco met her gaze with absolute truth. Jinx’s eyes seemed to grow into large watery orbs and she covered her face once again in his suit.

He would have to get it cleaned after all the tears, drool, and god knows what. …His lips curved into a slight smile.

Her little voice muffled something but Silco couldn’t make it out.

“What was that, Jinx?”

She paused and then, lifted her head slightly from him only long enough to mutter,

“...You're my best friend Silco…my only friend.”

He swallowed hard. This…this had not been in his plans. She hid her face again, nuzzling into his chest. Instinctively he wrapped his hand around the back of her head.

He gazed upwards, thoughts swimming behind raging ocean and volcanic molton eyes …affection was still so foreign to him, it was rather overwhelming…yet, there was the old echo of a comfort that had been long lost to him…that someone cared, truly cared for him…and the realization of a dangerous truth…

His hand tightened around her, holding her close; voice nothing more than a whisper, he rasped,

“And you're mine, Jinx.”

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And now for some cute fanart of the best duo

(pictures found on Pinterest, most credits weren't given :/ )

^picture by: ImMethi on X