Chapter Text
She did not let go of the man with the scary eye for a long, long time. He didn’t seem to mind—after their initial meeting he simply held her against him with one arm, her arms wound tightly around his neck, crying as quietly as she could. He was talking to the other people with him and telling them what to do and she was afraid that if she was too loud he would set her on the ground and walk away just like Vi did and then she would be alone all over again.
The man had ordered a couple of his people to comb through the wreckage of the cannery. “Try and find the doctor,” he had said in that smooth, frightening voice of his. “And when you find him give Sevika to him. Come to The Last Drop when you’re finished.”
“But what if he’s dead?” one of his goons said. Powder couldn’t help it—she made a soft little animal noise when she heard “dead.” Her arms and her hands and her whole body tightened around the man with the scary eye and she felt like she was going to be sick. The man adjusted his hold on her, patted her back with his free hand.
“Let’s hope that he isn’t,” he said. “Now go.”
The Last Drop wasn’t far from the cannery—though the scary man and the lady with him (who kept giving Powder weird looks) took their sweet time and kept their heads down. As they got further into the heart of the undercity, more and more people ran by them to get a look at the fire raging at the cannery. Some of them recognized Powder—they turned back to look at her in the man’s arms confusedly, worriedly, but eventually they went on their way.
The door to the Last Drop was unlocked, just like Powder had left it. The lady opened the door for the man and he stepped inside, still holding Powder, Powder still holding him.
“Leave us, would you?” the man said to his partner. “Go join the others at the cannery. Don’t look too suspicious. Come back when you have an update on the others, and tell them to come back as well.”
For the first time, the woman spoke: “Sir, what about you? What about the…” She trailed off. Powder wasn’t looking at her (she had long since buried her face into the man’s shoulder), but she assumed she was going to say, “the kid.”
The jinx, more like. Powder buried the thought.
The man turned to look at her.
“I can handle myself,” he said. “Go.”
“But what about—”
“What about it?” The tone in his voice alone sent a chill of anxiety down Powder’s back, even if it wasn’t directed at her. It was enough to make the woman shut up. After a few seconds, Powder heard her footsteps trail away, and then heard the door to the bar open and close. She heard the man sigh, heard his inhale and the soft beat of his heart against his neck. He took a few steps towards the bar and then patted her back with his free hand.
“Time to get down,” he said. Powder obeyed, prying her arms away from his neck slowly, and he helped her slide down into one of the barstools. That’s when she noticed—the cup of juice that Vander had poured her earlier was still there. Untouched, with the drawings she had made on the side smiling at her, the straw poking out over the top. But Vander wasn’t there. He never would be again.
It’s because of you.
She felt ill. Powder laid her head against the counter, hoping the cool feeling would center her. It didn’t. She stifled a sob, only partially succeeding.
The man sat in the barstool beside her. He reached into a pocket somewhere in his clothes and pulled out a pristine, white handkerchief. He reached out his hand and offered it to her.
“Here,” he said gently. “Wipe your eyes. It’s over now.” His eye still frightened her, with the scarred skin around it and its deep, unending blackness, but his normal eye looked at her tenderly, a smile on the corner of his lips. Powder took a deep breath, wiped her nose with her sleeve, and took the hankie. She wiped at her face with it, watching the tears and soot come away onto the white fabric.
“I haven’t introduced myself,” said the man. “My name is Silco. May I ask your name, child?”
Powder wasn’t sure—Vi and even Vander had always warned her about giving her name to strangers, and she still wasn’t entirely sure why he was at the cannery looking for Vi in the first place, and she had watched Vi beat up his lackeys, so could she really trust this man? Vi would probably say—
Powder licked the corners of her teeth and clenched her jaw. Vi wasn’t here. She wasn’t her sister anymore. Who cares what she had to say?
“… Powder,” she managed to squeeze out. Her voice was tight and watery at the same time. Silco nodded, taking in her name with a Hmmm sound.
“What a lovely name,” he said. “Tell me: you’re one of Vander’s children, aren’t you?”
Powder balled the hankie up in her hands and looked down at her knees. She nodded. Silco gave another Hmmm, then his eye caught something. He extended his hand and, before Powder could notice he touched her elbow, right near where she had scraped it up when she fell from the cannery wall. It stung, and she reacted by jerking away.
“You skinned your elbow,” Silco said. “Better clean it off.”
“It’s fine,” Powder said, covering the bloody scrape up with her hand. “I’ve survived worse.”
“Really? Like what?”
Powder pursed her lips. That was a lie, she hadn’t actually survived much of anything aside from a bad stomach bug a few years ago. If Mylo were here he would have called her on the lie right there—Silco just chuckled a little bit. Then, his face grew more serious—he slid the cup of juice closer to Powder and leaned in towards her.
“Why were you at the cannery?” he asked, his eyes still soft. “Did you come with your sister?”
Powder felt her chest tighten.
“S-She… She told me not to go,” she murmured. “I went by myself.”
“I see.” Silco leaned forward just a little more. “Were you there when the explosion occurred?”
Powder couldn’t help it—she felt the veins in her neck swell and her eyes start to well up with tears and she knew she couldn’t say anything so she just nodded. Silco, sensing her distress, reached behind him and offered something else to Powder—it was the bunny toy that Vi had given her, that she’d taken with her to the docks.
“Isn’t this yours?” Silco asked. “Best not to lose it.”
Powder, despite her anger at Vi and herself and even the stupid bunny, slowly took it from Silco and held it against her chest. She imagined him hugging back.
Silco continued: “I don’t mean to upset you, Miss Powder. I know you’ve had a terrible evening.” He leaned back on the barstool. “But I must know: was it you who set off the explosion?”
Something unholy reared its ugly head inside of Powder’s stomach. It gnashed its teeth and threatened to rip her open from the inside. It yelled so loudly inside of hear that its words bounced all the way from the pit of her stomach up to her ears: YOU ARE A JINX, MYLO WAS RIGHT, YOU MESS UP EVERYTHING, IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU!
She cried; she cried loudly with twisted, gnarled sobs, leaning against the counter and letting her tears wash over her cheeks.
“It was a mistake,” Powder kept crying. “I only wanted to help, I just wanted to help, I’m sorry!”
Silco watched her cry for a few moments; he watched as her tiny, tiny body jerked with each sob, so roughly at times it seemed like her bones might break from the force of each movement. He looked surprised—Powder was sure he would scold her, hit her, maybe even walk away like Vi did. But he didn’t. Silco rose from the barstool, extending his arms to Powder and pulling her into a soft embrace. Powder buried her face in his stomach, holding her bunny tightly and melting into Silco’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” Silco whispered. “It’s okay. It’s going to be alright.”
“S-S-She called me a jinx!” Powder wept. “I screw everything up, all the time! Vi even said so! It shouldn’t have been Vander, it shouldn’t have been Mylo or Claggor, it should have… It should….” She couldn’t quite get the words out—it felt like someone was sitting on her chest. There wasn’t enough air in her lungs to cry but she couldn’t seem to breathe in, like her throat had turned into a straw. Silco took hold of her shoulders and stooped down to meet her at eye-level.
“Take a breath,” he said. “Count to ten.”
“I-I-I can’t…!”
“Sure you can. I’ll count with you. Would you like that?”
“I-I…! I can’t do it!!”
Silco pressed his palm to her face. He met her eyes and took a long inhale through his nose.
“Count it out,” he ordered. “One. Two…”
Powder gripped the bunny for dear life and tried her best to mimic him—she inhaled through her nose. It was clogged up with snot, and her breath kept catching on the grief somewhere in her throat, but she managed to do it, managed to follow along with Silco counting until “ten.”
“Out through your mouth,” Silco said. “With control. Count it out again.”
Powder did as she was told. Vander used to do something similar with her and Vi when they got upset—the memory made her ache, but it was also comforting. It kissed at her bruises and hung low in her chest. She followed along with Silco, breathing in while counting to ten, breathing out while counting to ten, a couple more times. By the time they finished, Powder’s throat seemed to open a little more and her chest didn’t feel so tight. She still shivered and whimpered, but she was much calmer.
“Good job,” Silco said. “You did very well.” He remained at her level, but he once again took her shoulders in his hands. “How old are you, Powder?”
Powder wiped her eyes with the hankie again. “I’m eleven. I-I’m turning twelve in a couple of weeks.”
“Ah, that’s great. You’re at a wonderful age. And tell me--do you know what it means to ‘reclaim something’?”
Powder nodded. “It means to take something back.”
“That’s right. You’re very smart. I bet you’re very well-read.” Silco scooted closer to her. “Your sister said something hurtful to you. Something very hurtful. When someone says something hurtful to you, or does something hurtful, you can reclaim that too. Did you know that?”
Powder shrugged. “W-What do you mean…? I-I don’t get it.” Silco took a deep breath; Powder could tell he was putting whatever issue he was pressing to rest for the moment.
“That’s alright,” Silco said. He put his hand on her knee. “We can talk about it more another day. For now…” He stood up tall. “You’ve had a big day. Why don’t you get some rest?”
Powder wiped her eyes. She wasn’t really sure how she would be able to sleep at all but honestly she was too burned out to argue. Her insides felt fiery hot, but outside she was cold all over. But she didn’t want to argue—she just slid off of the stool and took Silco’s hand when he offered it.
“Where is your room?” he asked. Powder suddenly didn’t feel like talking—she just nodded towards the door to the basement. Silco seemed to get the message. He half-lead her to the door and swung it open for her.
Powder had left the lights on. Her things still lay scattered by the bunk bed, the dim lights washing over the couch, the shelves, everything. Her chest tightened again. Silco put his hand on her back, gently pushing her forward. Powder, in turn, made her way down the steps and towards the bottom bunk. Powder had initially been in the top bunk, back when Vander first took them in, but one night a particularly gruesome nightmare sent her flying off the edge and toppling to the floor. Vi pulled her into the bottom bunk that night, hushing her, and they slept like that until Powder got too big to share. Then, Vi moved to the top. Even as Powder started sleeping alone, she knew Vi was there. Felt her presence, listened to the mattress above her creak as Vi turned.
As Powder slid onto her mattress, she realized: there wasn’t anyone there anymore. Vi left. Mylo, Claggor, and Vander were all gone. It was just her in that room now. Powder felt something start to creep up her throat and choke her, and suddenly before she knew it, she started to cry again. Silco stood beside the mattress, watching Powder pull the blankets up to her nose and turn towards the wall. He ran a tender hand over her shoulder, which quivered with each tiny, tiny little cry.
“Things will be better tomorrow,” he said softly. “You’ll see.”
“How do you know?” Powder asked, her voice shaky and unstable. “All of this happened because of me.”
She heard Silco take a breath, felt his finger move a stray piece of hair from her cheek.
“We’ve all had bad days,” Silco said. Powder stiffened; she felt ice cold all over all of a sudden. Only a couple of nights ago had Vi told her the same thing.
Powder heard Silco say, “Goodnight,” heard his footsteps start to move away from her. Suddenly she felt feral—she felt like something terrible was going to claw its way out of her. Vi wasn’t here, Vander wasn’t here, and if Silco walked through that door and hit the lights then Powder would be alone in the dark. She couldn’t let that happen, she couldn’t be alone, she couldn’t, she couldn’t…!
Powder shot straight up, tearing the covers free from the mattress and crying out after Silco, “Wait!” It was a desperate, gravelly yelp that came from somewhere deep and dark in Powder’s stomach. It felt like her head was full of static and she was louder than she intended but she didn’t really give a shit.
Silco had only gotten up two steps before Powder’s cry stopped him in his tracks. He turned his good eye to look at her; shock and confusion swam about in his expression. Powder didn’t care—she extended one arm to Silco and gripped the bunny against her chest with the other.
“Please, don’t leave me!” Powder wept. “I-I don’t want to be alone, please!”
Silco turned his whole body towards her. For a moment Powder wondered what he was thinking. She wondered who he even was. But honestly she didn’t really care. She needed someone, anyone, scary eye or not.
And sure enough, after a pause, Silco started towards her, pulling a chair up beside the mattress and sitting beside her. He took her extended hand in his and said, “I won’t go anywhere.”
“Do you promise?” Powder whimpered. Silco nodded.
“I promise,” Silco said. “I won’t go anywhere until you wake up.”
“You won’t?”
“I won’t.”
“You wouldn’t lie, right?”
“I wouldn’t. I’ll stay right here tonight. I swear.” Silco straightened the sheets back up, and cautiously, Powder laid back down. Silco ran a thumb across her cheek, wiping away her tears.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I’m right here. I’m right here.”
Powder still didn’t know who Silco was. She didn’t know why his henchmen were trying to hurt Vander, and she didn’t know why he was being so nice to her, and she didn’t know where Vi had gone or what tomorrow may bring. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. In that moment, Silco was there, and Powder was not alone, and after a few minutes she drifted off. Only the tiny, snotty sounds of her breathing filled the quiet of the room.
Silco didn’t move. He didn’t even get up to turn the lights off. True to his word, he sat there all night, watching the little girl twitch in her sleep, her fingers wrapped around his hand. All night long, there he sat. Watching. Waiting. Remembering.