How to clean up a mess (How to grieve a child)

by Gabichann

Summary:

And then it hits her, once again.

Isha is gone.

She won't smile again. She won't eat the half-burnt pancakes, pull at Sevika’s sleeve when she wants to grab her attention, won't scribble down in her notebook and then shove it into her face anymore.

Won't ever give Sevika the reason of why she even fucking tries.

Because Isha is dead.

And there’s nothing she can do about it.

Her breath grows laboured, her fingers shaking as if she just went off Shimmer when she ruffles around her coat for the smokes, she knows she still had some, damnit, but she only finds the lighter, that last gift Silco ever gave her from Finn’s corpse and–

The lighter clatters to the ground and Sevika can't help but follow.

Isha is dead.

And Sevika screams.

OR

Sevika cleaned up many messes in the name of her dream. Some are much harder than others.

The news of the explosion sure spread fast.

 

Sevika, who spent the whole day out of the loop of the usual gossip, feels like she was one of the last to learn about it. 

 

Tales of a miracle doctor who hid himself in the most obscure corner of the Undercity, filled with the most discarded things and folks beyond help, and wished only to provide help to the needy have been circulating like crazy. Most of the Zaunites remained skeptical of them - not many in the Undercity believed in true charity - but the more and more unstable situation of the city certainly made a bunch of them crave reassurance. Some reports claimed that the good doctor was more of a cult leader than a healer - some others claimed he used magic instead of medicine. Frankly, as long as the man didn't grow too strong or didn't reach out first, Sevika wasn't planning to deal with him just yet.

 

Still, the news of a massive explosion and massacre at his compound had a lot of Zaunites in panic. Considering that Sevika knew who went for a visit to that place recently, she couldn't help the nagging feeling of unsettlement either - after all, Jinx seemed pretty determined to find help, not blow up her chance at the miracle. She had also been much more stable since she met Isha, more willing to stay anchored in the present and think of consequences. But if Jinx hadn't blown up that place in a fit of emotions, then why would she do it at all?

 

Sevika didn't like to admit it but the last months she spent with Jinx made her incredibly sentimental and mushy. She couldn't bring herself to believe in the teenager’s part in this just yet - even though past experience of Jinx’s jobs tended to create quite similar news.

 

The brat better deserve that trust, she couldn't help a grumpy thought, ignoring the unsettled looks some men in front of The Last Drop shot her. If she didn't do it, then it won't be my mess to clean.

 

Right. As if anyone else would do that instead.

 

But the time to worry about the fallout of that situation could wait. Something Sevika didn't want to name wouldn’t let her change focus that easily - something she knew well in her core to be worry. So she ended up right there, on the doorstep to her own bar, suddenly fucking worried to enter it. As if her delaying would suddenly change whatever Jinx did or did not do out there.

 

Sevika’s fingers squeeze one of her last smokes too hard, bits of tobacco falling uselessly to the ground. She scoffs in annoyance, over the waste of the resource and her stupid anxiety both, and pushes the door hard, not bothering to stop them before they hit the wall.

 

The bar doesn’t quiet down like it would for Silco nor does it explode in greetings like it would for Vander, had either of them made an entrance like that. Some passing glances of the patrons quickly turn away, more engrossed in their own beer. Some others follow her movements discreetly, judging or just curious, she can’t quite tell. 

 

She tries to ignore the way her skin crawls with their unwanted attention, her own gaze wandering around the bar in search of blue shades of hair. Jinx has been laying low for a while now and hasn't been in that part of a bar for weeks - her absence is to be expected. That does not help that tight ball of fucking anxiety in Sevika’s stomach to settle - her gaze still searching, even when she knows she would have seen the girl already. It’s perfectly reasonable for Jinx to find a place to lie low, no matter her involvement in actual explosions. There is no need to panic, goddamn it.

 

The bartender spares her a bit more attention, now that she stood in the doorway for a bit too long, but it is one of the older guys now - the one who worked for Vander once upon a time. Sevika never quite looks into his ice cold eyes anymore - too many reminders of the connections lost, bridges quite thoroughly burned. He used to give her and some other upstart runts some simple jobs when she was much younger - always paid her in something useful too, offered her free juice each time she stopped by. He never spoke a word but Sevika was certain she used to be his favorite back then, with how many thin smiles she used to receive.

 

She’s also quite sure the old fucker had the most judgment for her now - but punching his lights out when he always stayed quiet didn't seem right even to her. The bastard mixed some damn good drinks too. Even if Sevika rarely was in the mood to indulge in some elaborate beverages, she could give him that. 

 

But this time, she really couldn't avoid it - experienced bartenders knew what went in their bars the most. If there was a chance Jinx was here, even for a moment, the old man was Sevika’s only chance to find out. And so, as unwilling as she is, her feet finally move closer to him, her eyes doing one last sweep over the room. She almost misses it - but a different kind of blue catches her attention sharply.

 

Commander-fucking-Kirimann clearly wasn't too used to being incognito - her hood isn't up, allowing the damning hair to spill out. From her position Sevika can just barely see half of her heavily battered face, almost enough so to be mistaken for just another brawly Zaunite - almost enough to make her seem like one of the people she's been terrorizing since she took over. She picked a dark spot in the bar - maybe that was why she hasn't been recognized yet. Whatever the reason, Sevika hardly blinks before her body turns sharply, her fist tightening at the idea of finally getting to the latest bane of her existence and miserable headaches. 

 

Part of Sevika, the same one that made her start towards the Enforcer sharpshooter, wants to announce the Kirimann name right then and there, wants to reach out and tear at her cape, expose the uniform poking from underneath it. She wants to see horror in those wrong-blue eyes, wants to see how a mob of enraged Zaunites would splatter the ground with her noble blood. She wondered if maybe even that would have a hint of this blue - that maybe in that too, Caitlyn Kirimann would be special, just like her parents surely told her a million times. 

 

The more mature part of Sevika - the boring part, as Jinx assured her multiple times through the years - knows that acting rashly is stupid. Even if she hasn't seen them yet, the General of Pilties must have some bodyguards and traitors scattered around. Such perfect opportunities don't appear just because. No matter how much she wants to splatter her head on the wall, Sevika can’t afford to make mistakes, not the way Silco did.

 

The gambler in her still begs to take a chance.

 

But that pause is enough to make her notice another piece of a puzzle that she was missing before. 

 

She tried to keep tabs on Vi ever since Sevika learned of her presence back in the Undercity, with no uniform in sight. By all definitions, Jinx’s meddlesome sister was a traitor to the cause and Zaun - she threw away the solidarity and companionship of Zaunites the moment she joined Enforcers, their most accomplished killers. But still, Sevika knew that finding Vi dead would probably destroy some part of Jinx, some part that Sevika wasn't pragmatic enough to end just yet. Vi didn't seem intent on forcing Sevika’s hand either - her presence turned out to be harmless to all but those who stepped into the ring as her opponents or those who bet on someone other than her. 

 

Well, up until this moment, it seems.

 

The black-red mess in her hair and miserably smudged make-up on her face hardly do enough to hide Vi from Sevika’s gaze. The girl sits in the shadows, one of her hands propping up her whole head as she seems engrossed in her companion. No, it takes Sevika a moment to realize, Vi isn't listening to Kirimann at all - her eyes stranding and slipping through the walls, skipping past Sevika as if she doesn't recognize her. 

 

It was that, of all things, that propped Sevika forward.

 

It takes the girl quite a while to realize who is approaching her but when she finally does, Vi is on her feet in seconds. That seemed to have been a wrong call, her body bending over instantly and a hand grasping at her torso with desperation. When she manages to look at Sevika again, her eyes are glistening with unshed tears, her face strained in effort. Sevika is glad for her wide cape, covering from Vi’s eyes how helpless she really is when it comes to her shattered arm.

 

“Didn't think you'd show your mug here again, Vi.” She speaks first, something in her glad to take charge of conversation before it could stray. She ignores how much it sounds like an annoyed lesson taught by smooth poison, how much of Silco’s influence would forever mark her actions. “How badly did you get your ass kicked to wander over here?”

 

There’s a flash of teeth as words drown behind Vi’s mouth, but the threat is clear. General Kirimann turns to face her as well, her fingers flexing but empty - sharpshooter without her most prized weapon. It rests closer to Vi than Kirimann’ brat, a mistake she is surely regretting as Sevika leans close and forcefully on their table. She whistles, quietly for now but that still captures the attention of the closest patrons - merely a few of them remain directly under Sevika’s command but the brat doesn't need to know that.

 

“Not badly enough to lose to you.” Vi finally gets out, her voice scratchy and quivering in a way she definitely didn't intend. 

 

Sevika takes a closer look at her, noticing how tattered and singed her clothes are and how ruddy red stains Vi’s shirt in a particular spot. Her eyes narrow down on that, cold calculation picking up on potential weakness before she can even reign it in, sensing a chance of just maybe learning something about the most troublesome saviour Zaun could have picked.

 

“Don't threaten me when you can barely stand on your feet, girl.” Sevika’s eyes narrow down, not quite liking what she sees among the torn material. She was definitely not a doctor but her experience suggested a bullet wound to her immediately - something that killed kids in Zaun more times than not. Vi’s state surely wouldn't put Jinx in the most charitable mood. With a sigh, Sevika presses further, already half-resigned to taking on another responsibility. “Another family drama? Your sister skewered you better this time?”

 

“Don't you speak of her or I'll kill you!” 

 

The sound booms around the room, Vi’s voice nowhere near the quiet, ever-present murmur of conversation. More heads turn, willing to help or only curious over the commotion - Sevika doesn't want to know. 

 

“Don't you threaten me in my own bar, punk.” She only hisses back, ignoring how, had Vander been smarter, this place would have still been Vi’s, her cruel tongue going faster than her reason. “I’m already of half the mind the tell the good folk of your noble missy–”

 

Then, a few things happen all at once.

 

Kirimann, in a surge of confidence and bravery, reaches for the rifle at her side.

 

Vi winds up for a punch in the most obvious way possible, her bloodied knuckles aiming for Sevika’s face.

 

Sevika’s stump twitches helplessly as her useless arm tries to defend.

 

But Vi stops halfway.

 

Not by her own violation, certainly - the girl’s hot headedness is her most famous trait. No, it's more that she stumbles the moment she raises her hand, her body bending in half once more and a painful wheeze stopping her in her tracks. Kirimann is at her side in an instant, an arm around Vi’s back - her weapon of choice laying abandoned at the edge of the table. Foolish of her - had Sevika been more ready, she could have already struck back. 

 

She isn't, though, both because of her poor habits and because of what she saw. Her temper runs hot and part of her wants to hit them both still, but the rational part sees how weak they both are, how Kirimann tries to support a soldier unable to fight. It's stupid, is what Sevika wants to say, but all she can see is this nauseating sort of deep care. Love maybe, even - and ugh, isn't that mushy. All it means is that the both of them are mostly harmless - provided they stay isolated in their misery and disarmed.

 

“Thieram!” She calls louder than Vi yelled, as if she could overshadow what's happening.

 

Onlookers cannot be helped and she glances around the already standing people with mixed feelings - mostly overwhelmed with a need to make them stop asking questions she can't answer. The young bartender - clearly off-duty today - is a bit startled as he jumps to his feet but obediently comes closer. His healthy fear of Sevika makes him easy enough to handle and it's that reason mostly that she calls on him. 

 

“Go and get me the old doctor from the riverside. Tell him I'm calling in that favour he owes me and that it's urgent. If he still won't come, tell him I'll pay his stupid rate by the end of his visit.”

 

Thieram nods and, once it's clear that's all she has to say, scatters off in a hurry. The old man should come quickly enough - always eager to get even and, even more so, get paid. His practices are just shady enough that most people would rather avoid him - but that only makes him more tight lipped when it comes to clients he already has. She's sure Silco could have gotten a better doctor if he was still there - maybe even Singred, though Sevika would rather not cooperate with the man ever again - but Silco isn't there anymore. The thought makes her lose her balance, as it always does - but thankfully, the distraction is right there.

 

“Nothing to see here, I’ve got it.” She announces to the blatantly staring clientele, her eyes narrowing as she glances through them. “Fuck off to your own shit!”

 

The words are effective enough - and Sevika strolls over to the pair swiftly, trying to use her cape as a shield. Kirimann looks up at her in distrust but Sevika only grabs Vi’s arm, ignoring the flinch their bodies seem to share.

 

For a moment they just stare at each other in uneasy alliance - Vi barely conscious, Kirimann with those accusing eyes and Sevika on her last nerve.

 

“Get a move on, princess.” She snarls, hoisting part of Vi’s weight into herself. “Before this idiot keels over on the fucking bar floor.

 

That gets the noble missy moving, even when she purses her lips oh-so-ladylike, but at least she stays silent. She also seems to forget all about the rifle she leaves at the table - foolish and irresponsible but entirely to Sevika’s benefit. It only takes one look for the one loyal man to grab the weapon and stuff it under a cloak - his steps leading straight to the bar. Her and the old bartender might not see eye to eye - but she trusts him to be reasonable. 

 

Their three person hobble is more troublesome than it would have been if Sevika could have just carried the dead weight. Vi’s legs move as she mutters one curse or another, but her knees wobble. Effectively, they have to balance between her and Kirimann’s uneven height, going up the crooked and narrow steps without much help from the bleeding girl. When they finally make it to the upper floor, Sevika’s just glad the rooms here have never been all that far away.

 

She only hesitates a moment before she leads them to the door she knows so well - Sevika’s old room, back when she was only doing grunt work. She has kept it during her years of service for Silco and grew quite fond of it - despite the only lock existing on the outside of the door. The old shark always spewed some bullshit about the need to build trust and how Sevika had to believe in his choices, including if he wanted to lock her in the room. Loads of bullshit it was - Silco liked power more than he cared what they thought. Still, Sevika played along and slept in that room, having to trust in his protection and will as doing so got easier and easier with years.

 

Her complicated feeling about it aside, it was rather perfect for now - should little terror Kirimann or Vi have a stupid idea, containing the damage should be doable. Moderately, at least.

 

Sevika kicks the unlocked door open and it is a relief to be able to put Vi in the bed and get back the full use of her only arm. The worse part was that now neither she nor Kirimann have a distraction of a shared task - and are left in a tense silence, as they both try to get a good reading on another.

 

“What’s your deal, huh?” Vi hisses out unhelpfully, sitting up when she probably shouldn't but kept in place by her general's arm. “You're the new one playing the dictator in Zaun now? Feel better now that your boss is fucking gone?”

 

It was worse when Vi was speaking, Sevika found. The fool never could keep her mouth shut.

 

“I did you a favour, you fucker. You'd rather I tell all of them what was really happening? How the rabid dog came back and needed to be put down?”

 

“I didn't ask for your help!”

 

“And I didn't ask you for permission. I can still change my mind, you wanna land on your ass out there?”

 

“I can take it, you lousy, old–”

 

“So you're not a friend then.” Kirimann speaks up for the first time, looking between them warily and worsening Sevika’s mood the more she’s reminded of her presence. “But you're not an enemy either. Why are you helping us?”

 

No, it is easier with Vi, Sevika decides. Vi doesn't bother with questions like that, not when it comes to Sevika. The betrayal and hurt and fighting run deep between them and there is no point in discussing what they're both already sure of. Mainly that they only share one thing now and it is the main reason why they ever talk - even if Vi would never admit that Sevika could truly care about that punk’s sister.

 

The gist of it is that Kirimann has no business being here for this talk. But Sevika needs to know and Vi won't tell her shit if she chases the princess away - not with the way they both cling to one another, like brats scared of the dark.

 

“Where’s Jinx and Isha?”

 

It takes Sevika a moment to realise that it's her voice - that she voiced her worry out loud after all. There’s silence as Kirimann freezes and Vi looks ahead blankly, as if she didn't hear her. For a second, Sevika wants to take it back, scared like a coward of what answer she might hear - but the bigger part of her wants to, needs to know.

 

It's Kirimann who breaks the stretching silence, her voice careful and unsure.

 

“They were with us? When we fought Ambessa. There was… a beast. Warwick. Medarda wanted to turn him into a weapon but he was…”

 

Vi elbows the other girl quickly, surely regretting it as she instantly hisses in pain.

 

“It's none of her business!"

 

“He’s Vander, yeah?”

 

Vi turns to her quickly, wild fire in her eyes, that godsdamned willingness to fight that brought despair to all who dared. She looks the same way Vander did, whenever somebody would bother the kids - the same way Silco did when someone's tongue got too loose about Jinx. That look always warned you to back off before the explosion happened - but it was much too fucking late for that, since the healer’s commune was already gone.

 

“Who do you think told her where she could find that healer, you stupid brat?” Sevika barks back at Vi’s ridiculous - protective, she knows - attitude. “I’m assuming it didn't work then? Is that why it all blew up?”

 

The silence is tense as Kirimann remains quiet - her mouth shut tight as she looks to Vi for guidance. Sevika huffs in annoyance as she stares them both down and the moment stretches, before the Vi’s shaky breath escapes from her mouth.

 

“It worked. I don't know what he did but it was working.” Vi doesn't look her in the eyes, sets her gaze somewhere over Sevika’s right arm, the one she still has. “But then fucking Ambessa came and they attacked, killed the healer and Vander… Warwick went crazy.”

 

And that explains it, doesn't it? The chaos, the infighting, the big boom. Jinx probably lost it somewhere in the middle, losing track of her aim - maybe expressing her grief in her usual, destructive ways. It wasn't the first time. It probably wouldn't be the last. Another mess for Sevika to clean, to bring up and complain about. All the usual ingredients for a beautiful, explosive display.

 

Except not all of it was the same, was it?

 

Ever since Isha started following Jinx like a stray puppy, the unstable girl calmed down. Little brat gave her something to do, someone to care for other than herself - despite her complaints, Sevika thought Isha was a rather good influence. Through those good months, Isha didn't really have to witness the severe ones of Jinx’s breakdowns - the only big one being her reckless fight with Vi right at the start. The half buried dread curls in Sevika’s chest - that damned worry over how Jinx handled the hopeless case, what did she hear, if Isha is safe around her…

 

“And then? Where did they go?” She questions Vi sharply, with the urgency she should have hidden if she was smart, to hide the weakness. All the teachings go right out of your head,  she remembers the dry baritone and dammit, if he wasn't right yet again but… “Are they safe? Did Jinx say where she was taking Isha?”

 

Kirimann and Vi share an unsettlingly long look but before Sevika can hurry them up…

 

“Isha took the Hextech Orbs and blew herself up. Right alongside Warwick.”

 

She doesn't know which of them said it. The voice just doesn't register, doesn't connect with the person. Neither do the words with their meaning, not at first. Hextech. Explosion. Warwick. Isha.

 

Death. Isha is dead.

 

Sevika can't think of anything to say so she doesn't. She moves straight to that one drawer in her wardrobe, where she keeps a bottle of alcohol, the strong stuff. Her human hand feels like a machanical one as she unscrews it, the cap scattering somewhere on the floor, and she takes a big swing. It burns as it goes down, the taste awful but overpowering. Sharp enough to wash away the dryness of her mouth.

 

They watch her like a hawk, both of them. She should probably reply - something sympathetic, something mean, anything to keep the information mine going - but she can't. She takes another swing, this one proving a bit much and she coughs, droplets of alcohol landing on the floor.

 

The silence feels deafening.

 

It's an old truth in Zaun, the one they never really discuss, that children die. That’s what they always do, in spades. There are a number of things that can get them, so many numerous dangers all around them. It's from that old, uncomfortable truth that their equally ancient tradition comes from - the one of never using that damning word. Instead there's only little men, tiny warriors, born fighters. Instead there are only annoying brats, whose mess always has to be handled by others. It's all in the foolish hope that if you avoid using the labels of a kid, all those deaths might overlook them. That maybe if you're mean enough, they will grow tough and strong enough to survive the cruel city, that it may be enough to save them. But the word child still of course slips out - and Sevika can't help the stray though that maybe her own carelessness, her inattentiveness in reigning it in is the reason why it happened. Why Isha is dead.

 

And Jinx watched it happen.

 

There's a knock on the door, the kind made by a careless fist. The doors open shortly after and the old doctor walks, his wrinkled face vigilant - Thieram nervously looking at her as he stands in the door. Sevika still can't bring herself to say anything though - only points at Vi, bleeding onto Sevika’s bed, slams the alcohol on the tiny nightstand and walks straight out. She can’t spare any further care for any complaints the doctor or the girl might have, can't spare any attention to the way it might influence her unstable image. She should, most certainly - but it's hard to care about her crazy dream of free Zaun when another of its key residents is just gone. 

 

It's sudden, the way she comes to herself, standing in front of the doors with an intricate, golden pattern. They are unmistakable, both for the amount of time she spent standing guard in front of them and the amount of times she saw them kicked open by the messy wildfire with blue hair. She supposes that it was an unavoidable stop - that eventually the childish dislike of the room had to lose to reasonable conclusion of attempting to check it anyway. Even then, she hesitates - as if she still hadn't made her choice.

 

But she owes it to her. For all the moments spent together, for the arm rebuilt with all the silly upgrades, for the burnt breakfast and that ridiculous, uneasy trust shared. For the shared snippets of agony and perhaps the most important of all…

 

For Isha.

 

Instinct screams at Sevika to knock as is proper, to announce herself because Silco hates surprises and lack of etiquette but Silco is dead, the same as little Isha, so she doesn't. The door opens slowly, with only a bit of a hobble and slight screech from somewhere in the lower hinges - caused by a wild temper and not fixed in time, probably - and then she's in.

 

Silco's office hasn't changed at all. The same couch with the red padding sits in the corner right next to the very same low table with colorful mess on one of its covered legs. The same jukebox, hardly ever used, stands in the corner and the identical fancy desk with the massive chair covers the exact same window with green stained glass. All the symbols of what Silco always preached, dressed in fine fabrics and covered in smudging make-up - the game of power. Somehow, Sevika doubts he expected so many of its parts to be forever stained by colourful sprays of graffiti and childish drawings.

 

The figure sitting on the desk is just as wrenchingly familiar as the rest of the room, perhaps even more so because it's her surrounded by all of him. She found her like this a few times - but usually barely caught a glimpse of her as she jumped up, right to the ledge where she could hide even when she got too old for that. Right now though, her two messy braids sit still, one half destroyed - the hair spilling all over her back as she doesn't move a muscle. 

 

Sevika doesn't know what to say. 

 

Jinx is tense, frozen in place and turned away. Sevika hesitates, unsure if she's even present enough to have heard her - but she only manages a few more steps before a chillingly familiar clink stops her in her tracks. Of course Jinx has her weapon - especially now, because that is just Sevika’s luck. The barrel doesn't point at her just yet but it doesn't matter with how fast Jinx can be.

 

That leaves Sevika with few options.

 

“I heard about what happened.” Her voice is perfectly stable, as if the news were typical - and for most of the Underground they probably were. Just another tragedy, that for once might not involve them. Sevika listened and contributed to many of them before, after all - it shouldn't be anything new. 

 

She tries to keep bitterness out of her voice - but it strikes suddenly-

 

“It sure turned into a mess fast. Must be a new record for you.”

 

She doesn't get much time to react before metal meets metal, Jinx’s gun crashing against the plate of Sevika’s covered stump. Jinx must have miscalculated, thrown herself too far but Sevika doesn't wait, doesn't have time for it at all - it takes all of her reflex to grab the barrel and point it away from her vulnerable, fleshy body. Not a moment too soon she tears the weapon out of Jinx’s grasp, girl’s finger so, so close to the trigger and Sevika isn't willing to get shot today too. 

 

The gun barely hits the floor and Sevika barely breathes in before Jinx moves - and that damn Shimmer overtakes her body, throws Sevika through the side table and straight into the wall. Something in her back cracks as pain spreads through it and then Jinx is face to face with her. The girl looks even worse from the front - her mouth stretched into a snarl, shining eyes searching for target and wild hair thrown around her face.  Sevika curses as that damn brat pushes her further into the wall, puts more pressure on her bruises, awakens the answering anger in kind and…

 

“Damn fucking brat!” She shouts, the air in her lungs just barely returning and spit falling from her mouth as she strains to break free. “Should have been put on your ass more as a kid, maybe you'd have turned out fucking better!”

 

The words echo in the small space, ring between them as they both snarl at each other like beasts, and Jinx screams as her fist swings back. In a split second Sevika feels the dread and regret coming in, tries to break free but knows she won't make it, knows that Jinx on her Shimmer high can probably kill her easier than most but it's too late to escape and…

 

Jinx fist hits next to her head, her knuckles breaking through concrete as if it was plaster. Sevika can only imagine how easily it would have broken her skull if it hit a bit more to the right. The realization makes her heart beat faster, instinct begging her body to back down, run from this predator for now - but soon the reality comes crashing down once again. Soon the words she spoke ring in her ears again and she knows instantly why. She wasn't sure what she came to do with Jinx but part of her must have wanted to make her feel guilty - to punish someone for the loss. And of course it came out like that - unspoken accusation, you fucked up and you jinx things and you didn't protect Isha right shining through her every word. Maybe, a small part of Sevika wonders, maybe Jinx should get a hit in. For the shared responsibility they failed in.

 

But Jinx stays as she is and as blood builds up on her hand, so does her breath quicken. Thin arms tremble and curl on themselves, her eyes scattering over the wall as if she didn't see it anymore and Sevika has been here before. She knows what's coming before Jinx’s breakdown fully starts.

 

Her chest tightens as she watches the grief and despair set in, as delusion clouds girl's teary eyes and forces the body into a shudder - and Sevika doesn't get to think it through, her own instinct telling her to move, move, move and then her arm is around the wildfire as she presses her into her aching bones, hard. Sure enough, Jinx trashes in the hold, her nails scraping Sevika’s skin and an uncoordinated headbutt crashes into her chest, tearing down her balance. They fall to the floor but Sevika doesn't let go, unexplainable instinct forcing her to cushion the little beast, take the hit on her beaten back and blink through the pain as her head thuds on the wood. Not like the brat makes it any easier, with how she flails around - the only saving grace being that in this distressed state she is unable to fully tap into Shimmer strength, allowing Sevika to stand a chance. It’s then that Jinx howls, and it's a pitiful sound with no understandable words, no structure, building up and quieting without rhyme or reason - wail of a wounded, grieving animal. Sevika grinds her teeth as it gets harder and harder to control Jinx’s thrashing but holds her ground the best she can - knows if she lets go now, Jinx will not stop until she hurts herself or her environment beyond repair.

 

And then the girl in her arms goes completely slack, like a puppet with cut strings. The change is rapid, just like most of Jinx's moods, but Sevika stays vigilant, stays stable, ready for another nasty surprise. Why she won't take her opening to run, she cannot say - surely because of the speed with which Jinx would get her, the pointlessness of escape and…

 

The quiet is unnerving as they lay there still and Sevika only with time feels sticky fluid on her hand, can imagine marks left by nails and teeth and it's better to think of that, of all the ways Jinx earns her beating than to focus on why she's still there, where does that trembling that shakes them both come from. It's only because of that tense quiet that she hears the mumble leaving Jinx, her voice raw from screaming.

 

“She doesn't even say anything, just stares. How can it be worse?”

 

Her questions buckles under its own sound as Jinx chokes on it and Sevika can't find the answer. She only stares hard at the top of her messy hair, tries not to think of the weighty question haunting her since she was a child - a terrifying thought of being perceived by disappointed, dead eyes - and instead risks loosening the hold to run her fingers through tangled strands. She can't help but think how fitting they are to Jinx’s everything, to how troublesome they are and yet how unable she seems to get rid of at least some of their length. How Isha loves to brush through it with her gentle hands and fascinated stare.

 

How she loved. Because Isha is dead.

 

The gesture is enough to release a sob from the girl, suddenly her body turning as it's her that crushes Sevika to her chest now, as she buries her wet face in her neck. The floor is cool, old wood creaking only just a bit when the force of Jinx’s hug moves them just a bit more, and the chilly floor feels nice on Sevika’s bruises. She explicitly tries not to think of the other kind of wetness that spreads on her chest now, of thin fingers tearing at her shirt and the ghost that might be watching them. Eventually, her strength leaves her and it's only Jinx that clings to her now so strongly, Sevika’s hand cradling her back loosely.

 

It's a strange situation, to see Jinx so still in the aftermath of her loss, another side to her that Sevika rarely sees. Loud, wailing brat has always been more of her style, more in line of what Sevika has to handle - but now even sobs have faded away as she stays in place on her own.  The more it lasts, the more Sevika drifts - her emotions fading, any concern or worry melting into the ever flowing, unmeasurable time. She resolves to count the seconds but loses track easily, her thoughts distracted by the clingy arms, barely allowing Sevika to move them to couch and wet eyes stealing glances at her from underneath the curtain of her hair. 

 

“Get some sleep.” Sevika finally rasps out, the vigil doing a number on her voice even if she didn't really offer many words. The bags under Jinx’s eyes seem even more pronounced as she stares straight at her, making Sevika squirm and look away first. “You look like shit.”

 

She expects a comeback, a sigh, maybe a glare - instead she's met with arms tightening around her middle and a flash of fear spreading through the girl's face, both of which she meets with her own unease.

 

“I can't.” Sevika hears her whisper even as she looks away, even as they both can't meet each other’s gaze. “I can't stand t-them watching me. They'll scream and they'll be mean. She will be too.”

 

“She won't. She adores you.”

 

Jinx only shakes her head, wildly, her breath catching and quickening and there’s a flash of wild panic as her body seizes and…

 

“Damn it, take a fucking breath, you brat!” 

 

Sevika shakes her roughly, unwisely - one never knows when Jinx’s temperament will go off and it's been such a long day - but the girl, miraculously, listens. It's not an easy task, surely - but Jinx squeezes her eyes shut and visibly stops, her teeth grinding as she tries to slow down. Her nose twitches as she takes in a still-too-fast breath and Sevika can feel the shaky exhale on her skin. For reasons completely unknown to Sevika, Jinx, for the first time in her damn life, really listens to her advice - and of course it happens in moments like those.

 

Still, that only means there is a way.

 

“I'll stay, okay?” She murmurs finally, settling in on Silco’s narrow couch with resignation. “If she gets mean… I'll wake you up.”

 

***

 

In the end, Sevika doesn't get to do much. 

 

Exhaustion pulls Jinx under fast enough that she doesn't seek any, unnatural in their relationship, reassurances, settling down in Sevika’s lap and grabbing her finger like a helpless child. It's entirely too familiar to how Isha would curl up on one of them at times, her wrecked by starvation body often craving the overdue rest and causing further tightening in Sevika’s chest. 

 

But unlike Isha, who would usually sleep through as her naps in relative peace, Jinx doesn't seem to find it. Murmurs and yelps leave her mouth as she fussies and moves in her sleep, seeing and hearing people Sevika never can - but rarely does she get a chance to truly wake the girl when Jinx shoots up right before she can, her wide-open eyes wild, and Sevika gets ready for another panic attack she'll need to suppress and yet…

 

It's a strange sort of situation, when Jinx’s eyes register Sevika’s presence and suddenly the girl drops back on to the couch. She never knows what to say and what to do - so she referees to the last successful attempt in calming Jinx down and reaches for the strands of her hair, brushing them with her rough fingers. It must feel different enough - or maybe has just the right amount of similarity to Isha’s skilled little fingers - that it makes Jinx close her eyes again. Without any snark, without arguments - with trust. 

 

The weight of it feels terribly uncomfortable but what can Sevika do? She's been carrying many burdens throughout her life, for her parents and siblings and Vander and Silco - what does one more matter? Even if this one feels more unexpected, it's not so different. It allows for a good distraction at least - just until Jinx really comes to herself and pulls away, Sevika is willing to take on this one more weight.

 

But the silence - oh, the silence drives her insane. Quiet breaths and occasional grunts are not enough sound to keep Sevika’s head from wandering. She tries to count seconds, tries to find something she didn't notice in the office before and commits the space to the memory again and again - but none of that is strong enough to keep her on track, away from the missing puzzle in between them.

 

So instead, in pure desperation, Sevika digs down, into the beginning - her lips on their own starting the quiet retelling of the stories she knows. They reach back to her childhood, to the family she once had, to the friends she laughed with and conspirators she plotted against. She tells the myths and urban legends, strange people you can find in the Undercity and how they may prove useful. Her tongue changes uncomfortable details as if she were Silco but it's automatic at this point - desire to hide that tender truth. And if she uses it to spare the gory detail, cruel endings, painful consequences - it's all the better that Jinx hears the good parts now, without the ugly bits. And the girl does seem to prefer waking to the quiet murmur of Sevika’s one sided conversations, rather than the silence - that's how Sevika excuses her strange rambling spell.

 

It's hard to forget who else would surely love that prettier versions of those stories, Isha alway loving to listen but wrinkling her little, pointy nose at Sevika’s crude way of speaking, always preferring the fantastic tale Jinx would spin instead…

 

Her chest tightens more, the feeling she starts to grow familiar with as her warning to change the line of thought. She does so carelessly and with abandon, her fingers drumming nervously on the armrest and latching into another topic.

 

She itches for her cards, she finds, when her fingers miss the wood of the couch and slide down on it. Her father used to take her to see him play when she was younger - she realises she said it out loud only after a moment - and it's probably all his fault that she learned all those gambling games before she got her first job. With no money of her own to bet, she used to sit at the bar with a glass of orange juice - on the house, an old man would smile as he slid it to her wordlessly - and watch. How to play, how to bluff, how to cheat - she had a first row seat and soon enough she herself was among them - playing low stakes and raising higher the more money she had on her. It was an ugly habit, her mother used to tell her, one that would cost her too much one day. Still, Sevika gambled and gambled - and lived her life accordingly to all those ups and down, with more or none of the money from her jobs. And so it went - until she met Silco and gambled all in on his grand dream.

 

She tries to forget the bitter aftertaste of how that turned out and instead focuses on the old want. After all, she hasn't played for real money in a while now, always too busy with patching up the gap her former boss left behind. The closest she came to were the occasional round with patrons and, more often, the practice rounds in Jinx’s safehouse as she tried to drill into them the rules and how to break them, as she showed off one of the few of one handed card tricks she knew and for a moment forgot about the responsibility she won in that all-in gamble - as she rolled her eyes at Jinx’s blatant cheating and corrected Isha’s fingers to hide the cards better.

 

And that thought is bad too, Sevika thinks, as the tightness makes it harder to breathe, as her restlessness makes memories vivid and they choke her with poorly dyed hair and silly hat and a worried grin with one missing tooth and…

 

And suddenly Sevika can’t stay here, in the room and with the girl full of those memories.

 

Her hand feels stiff as she moves Jinx off her, her legs bending too much once she puts pressure on them. She hears Jinx’s quiet mumble but doesn't look at her - coward, coward, coward - and instead looks only at mahogany doors, wants to escape the study and you promised her but she can't, she can't deal with this anymore and…

 

There's a knock on the door.

 

All elegant and short, seemingly more of a courtesy as the door swings open almost right away. Behind them, fucking Kirimann with no hood on her hair stands, her hand poised where the door was a moment before - and in front of her stands Vi, in all her beaten up glory. Jinx’s sister now bears a bandage, almost completely clean, and yet looks more agitated than before with her wild mane of short hair and the untrusting grimace covering her face.

 

There’s a second when they all just blink at each other tiredly and then Vi looks around with pure disdain, up until her eyes find Jinx. Whatever she sees, she doesn't seem happy and Sevika knows well the fury that ignites on her beat-up face. It's misplaced but the unspoken accusation still stabs her hotly - and Sevika should ignore it, should be diplomatic but damn it all, if she isn't also itching for a fight, for having something else to do that makes sure her brain skips past all those uncomfortable thoughts. 

 

Jinx whimpers and suddenly Sevika turns instinctively, fight forgotten, but the girl is still asleep. Not for long, perhaps - and Sevika promised to wake her but her legs feel like steel, unable to move her. If she wakes Jinx, she'll want her to stay. If she doesn't, the brat will suffer with her ghosts. The decision feels impossible, one damning her to break her childish promise, the other to lose her mind in that goddamn office full of all those memories.

 

There’s a quiet but distinctly practiced clearing of a throat as the Kirimann brat steps inside the room and has the decency to not stare at vulnerable Jinx. Sevika narrows her eyes and feels the instinctive need to snarl - maybe does so, just a tiny bit, because suddenly the general seems hesitant and Vi is in her face again.

 

“What the hell did you do to her, huh?” Her voice isn't screaming, not yet - it's more like a low growl, angry mutt still warning you of the incoming attack. “Didn't you hurt her enough with your fucking boss? What did you say to her, damn it!”

 

“Lower your damn voice, punk, before you wake her up!” Sevika hisses back at her, anger rising and fists just begging to give Vi bruises matching it on her self-righteous, traitorous face. “You’re in no shape to put her on her ass if you set her off again and I'll be damned if you make her blow up this fucking bar!”

 

But Vi has never been known for backing off, even when she really should. That's what Sevika knew her first for, after all - that one Vander’s kid whose nose never got the time to properly heal before it was broken again. This time too, she only puffs up more and gets right into Sevika’s face and her teeth grind in a mantra of don't wake Jinx, don't wake Jinx, don't wake Jinx…

 

“Vi, stop.” 

It's strange, the tone that the little dictator’s voice has - quiet, mindful of Sevika’s warning and yet commanding in her coolness. It makes Vi twitch in place, her face going through several grimaces but her body stays in place rather than starting another losing fight. Sevika almost wants her to move, just to be contrary.

 

“Vi, she clearly didn't do anything. If nothing else, the fact that your sister is asleep probably is a good thing right now. She's safe and won't run into more trouble and that's what you were worried about right?” It's annoying, how logical and helpful Kirimann is, how it makes Vi stand back as she sees sense, even if she's not actually out of Sevika’s face just yet. “Now stop straining yourself, you have stitches.”

 

It takes a longer moment still, for Vi to huff angrily and step back. Sevika tracks her all the way as she takes a step back, right to her apparent Piltie’s master. That too, makes Sevika’s fist itch so perhaps what she truly wants is to simply get to punch something and Vi’s face is just looking particularly tempting.

 

“Now, I've heard your name is Sevika, right? I wanted to sincerely thank you for your help with treating Vi’s injuries and your… discreetness.” Those blue, bright eyes of hers stare right into Sevika, seem so reasonable, if cautious, but calm - infuriatingly so when she should be afraid and be at Sevika’s mercy, shouldn't get to steer the conversation here, in the Undercity, in Sevika’s fucking bar. “You also, um… you don't look so well so maybe–”

 

“You look like shit.” Vi cuts into Piltie’s drivel and somehow her voice is nicer to hear, even when it directly insults her - maybe Sevika is just simple but she is not in the mood to search for insults in the polite speeches. “More than usual, she means. And I do too.”

 

Vi is still so damn irritating.

 

“You think I don't know it, punk?” Her jaw feels tight and her arms are stiff, especially her stump - all of it neglected in her attempts to keep her gamble worth it and in trying to find the girls, only to find out it's too late… “You try to keep your sister from flying off her rocker when she's this far gone. Or maybe don't, since usually you're the fucking cause, right?”

 

Vi bristles but there is that fake cleaning of a throat again and Sevika looks to the pompous Piltie who looks between them like she's piecing something together. Sevika doesn't want her to know shit but maybe she fucked that one up when she left them alone with only the old doctor and clumsy Thieram and gods, you really are so stupid Sevika, just to rush to the brat like an emotional pre-teen…

 

“I would like to speak with you, Sevika, but maybe not where we could wake her?”

 

And isn't that another thing on the list of things Sevika does not want to do. If she could punch her - that would be a different matter. But as it stands, Sevika doesn't have her dominant arm and would be outnumbered here. Not to mention, that would certainly wake Jinx and she promised, didn't she? Only if Isha is mean.

 

“I'm not moving anywhere.” She declares, ignoring how that was precisely what she was planning to do before they both barged into Silco’s office - and wouldn't Silco have had fun discipling both of them with that careless cruelty, with barely few words stripping them of all authority and dignity and reinforcing who is the boss– “Jinx can't be left alone right now. So you better haul ass before she wakes and makes it a–

 

Problem for all of us gets stuck in her throat  - maybe because her head catches up with her mouth and knows that Jinx is crazy insecure about it - or maybe because at that moment another, more intensive whine leaves Jinx’s mouth, her trembling hand searching for something on the couch and Sevika expects her to shoot up again, suddenly awake but–

 

Vi moves fast, speeding on Sevika’s left side - she wants to reach, intercept the girl but her left arm isn't there so she only turns, weak flesh of her right one trying to stop the violent girl but freezes in place once she realises what she sees. Vi seems hyper focused on her sister but it’s not to attack - her hands, both of them, whole, are clasped around Jinx’s and, sure enough, wildfire slowly works her way into grasping one of them, just like she did with Sevika’s before. She swallows the irrational, bitter taste of betrayal, its childishness more fitting to Jinx or Isha than Sevika.

 

“I can watch over my sister just fine.” Vi really is quiet this time, her voice barely above the whisper as she all but ignores Sevika, too busy with observing Jinx’s face. “I've been doing it since before you ever knew her.”

 

Except you’ve been with her less than me, haven't you?

 

Sevika swallows the words this time, even if they’re true - even for her, they feel too cruel and shameless, when she played her part in that. Even knowing how it plays out, she probably never would have changed what she did - how she picked Silco and his dream over Vander’s weakness and what it meant for his stupid brats. Her regret can never be greater than the quiet call of Vander would have smothered you all and Silco was the only one capable of laying the foundations. The best Sevika can do is acknowledge the ancient wound - and in this, at least, give the sisters the chance of recovering the stolen moments.

 

“I'll stay with her.”

 

Vi has that spark of stubbornness in her eye, even as she doesn't spare a single glance towards Sevika, who really ought to have punched her for the recklessness, regardless of her intentions. 

 

“Yeah, sure. And when she sees you, she'll think you’re another ghost here to haunt her and go off. She's been seeing yours for longer than she knew you.”

 

And there goes Sevika’s resolve, the string of words still a cruel reminder. Vi's jaw tenses but she doesn't react more than that - merely leans closer to her sleeping sister, her shoulders hunching. Far from anger, this one time, instead full of sadness and guilt, maybe - Sevika turns her gaze away before she can read too much in it.

 

“If you've got something your ghost wouldn't do.” She offers quietly, too quiet, too meek, you won't convince anyone like this, her eyes set on the corner of the couch. “That might help her. Ground her in reality.”

 

The quiet threatens to swallow Sevika, the curtain of it heavy in the room where two of her should-be enemies reside - but she doesn't know what to say, as she never does. All the words are too cruel or too crass or simply pointless - it's hard to imagine any of Jinx’s memory of Vi wouldn't be tainted by her imagined version by now, that there could be anything of Jinx’s childhood still left. 

 

And the ultimate test comes right then and there - Jinx twitches violently, her whole body hitting the back of the couch as whimper leaves her cracked lips and her eyes open - half wet still, shining with violet shimmer and searching. It’s easy to see, the moment she notices Vi at her bedside with how she jerks away, panicked no, no, no leaving her mouth as her hand swings wildly, reaching for a weapon and Sevika tenses, convinced that's it’s over–

 

Vi starts singing.

 

Well, that's a strong word - it starts off as more of a hum, barely louder than the sound of Jinx’s heavy breathing. It builds slowly, lacking words for a long while - but the moment Jinx hears the first note of it, her body freezes in place. The sisters’ gazes meet and the song grows louder - and Sevika wonders, because Vander never sung, she had heard him try and it was awful, he was only ever a listener, so it must have come from somewhere else, from somewhere before…

 

And oh, she remembers then. Their pitiful resistance, back when they still believed in Vander, back when Silco was still kind - back when bright eyed Felicia always kept on singing. It's from a time when Sevika was nothing more but a sniveling brat herself - when her body was thin, technique sloppy and her role in their lives minor. Before the bridge and the massacre. No wonder she doesn't know it - it's from before they ever got to hurt each other, before Sevika even knew how often she'd follow after the blue haired brat.

 

The thought leaves a sour taste - especially when Jinx does calm down, staring at Vi with absolute concentration. And as the older sister leans closer, slowly laying Jinx on her lap - she lets her. Staring until her chest stops heaving, their eyes still connected - maybe conveying something Sevika never could get. She managed to forget in the past few months - that she was never the good person in their story, that she’s only ever been capable of getting people killed and attempting to clean up the mess left after them. The reminder has always been there but Sevika wanted to forget, to live in her ignorance and endless work on Silco’s dream and legacy. 

 

But she’s not needed here - Jinx doesn't fight Vi and the moment grows too tender for Sevika to watch. She turns away, the whole of her body - and that unfortunately puts her right into the face of general Kirimann who doesn't watch the scene either, thankfully. It's not something either of them have the right to - it's not something Sevika wants to allow the young dictator to see.

 

“You're not staying.” Her voice is sharp, her throat suddenly dry as Sevika tries to ignore the ineffable obstruction in her throat. “There’s no way you won't make her freak out.”

 

At least that's what Sevika wants to believe - and while she might trust Vi enough with this, she will not stand for the Piltie to gather her information for who knows what. She doesn't put anything past the Kirimann - instead she puffs up her chest, even if she lacks the confidence to make it fit, and tries to cover the sisters from the general, in case she decides to steal the look.

 

“That's quite alright. I wanted to speak with you anyway.”

 

Her compliance only makes Sevika feel the worthlessness of her protection even more, only makes her want to punch her too-perfect face. But instead she swallows heavily and gestures to the door out - following right behind Kirimann, without looking back again.

 

The door closes with a croak - and Sevika should really fix it - and then they are separated. Jinx with someone who loves her still, somehow, in her complicated, familial sense - and Sevika with the enemy, who looks too tired to put up a decent fight.

 

Caitlyn Kirimann clears her throat again, so stupidly pointedly, in a way that screams of Silco’s lesson of polite rudeness. Sevika always thought they were too subtle to have any effect on her rough edges - and yet the sound makes her grind her teeth.

 

“So what does the dictator princess wants to speak with me about?” She drawls through her teeth, her gaze sharp as she seeks answers the girl hasn’t given yet.

 

“Is there… anywhere private we can talk? Beside your office?”

 

“It's not mine.” The denial comes to Sevika instinctively, the idea of claiming Silco’s space as hers inherently wrong. “And no, what's wrong with the corridor? Not cozy enough for your Piltie senses?”

 

And that finally gets a reaction - her neutral facade twisting for a moment in annoyance. It feels like a win - feels like something Silco would draw joy from, not his primitive bodyguard Sevika. 

 

“Look, Sevika.” Kirimann changes her tone at last, exhaustion dripping from her every word. “I am trying here to be civil and ignore all the things that put us apart. Could you extend me the same courtesy and not let your personal dislike of me cloud the discussion?”

 

Nothing gets Sevika’s blood boiling more than a fancy speech. Nothing makes her fist itch more than the lack of accountability from those in charge. This time, it is no different.

 

“Personal dislike?” She spits the words out with all the contempt she feels, glaring at the scrunched up face of her adversary. “Ha! I should have just let those people below express their personal dislike while you were surrounded by them. Compared to them, I'm being downright sweet to you, general.

 

“But you didn't, because you're not stupid.” She leans closer, stupidly, her cheekbones just begging to get bruised and broken. It almost makes Sevika miss her next words. “You need my help for what's coming - we have to unite for once, Piltover and Zaun once again on the same side.” 

 

She's desperate, that's clear - but Sevika only snorts in false amusement. 

 

“United again?” An inkling of a tremble in her throat, almost close enough to become a maniac laughter, warbles her speech but Sevika’s tongue has always been too loose for diplomacy anyway. “We've never been united, you fool. You just want your free workforce back in effect, right? Can't be bothered to work for your precious comforts?”

 

“You don't understand! Ambessa is a danger, she has a weapon now and who knows what she'll do with–”

 

“It's all very tragic, general. Such a shame that Zaun does not care for Piltie’s plight, what with all the beatings and hunts for their saviour–”

 

“The situation escaped my control, yes, but we have to put it aside–”

 

“There are still people recovering after your last Grey stunt and you think they want to spend their energy fighting your civil wars–”

 

“I made a mistake, but it was important back then–”

 

“And it's too important now–”

 

“Jinx killed my mother!” The words are raw as the general screams them, her eyes glinting as she stares at Sevika with intensity, as if she was the one who did it. “I tried so hard to get Zaun and your perspectives in the council and I argued with her, but in the end I only returned to her funeral. And then the memorial… It was too much hurt from your people. I couldn't handle it.”

 

The obsession does make sense now, Sevika admits to herself, staring at the trembling child-general - but the Kirimann family wasn't an innocent target. For one of them to die specifically from Jinx, for their memorial to be the one interrupted by Zaunites…

 

“Well, that's too bad.” Sevika answers slowly, quieter, despite herself feeling conscious over the loss still shimmering in general’s tears. “But if I lost it every time someone I knew died, not a single of the fucking Enforcers would leave the Undercity intact, not before they put me down.”

 

“But it wasn't just anyone. It was my mother, Sevika. Surely…”

 

“Let me correct it then. If I did it every time someone I loved died, then I would have been long since dead while storming the bridge after another of your Enforcer fucks.”

 

They did it once before after all - on that bloody, bloody bridge, shouting vengeance and justice for their slain families - and Piltover razed them down and left their bodies on there like trash, right where they fell.

 

“And if I counted in all of the people your rule got killed or disabled for life…” She continues the thought, her fury frozen in her chest. “I would have already caved your head in with my bare fucking hand.”

 

That makes the general take a step back but she hits the wall almost right away in the narrow corridor, her fingers clearly twitching for her weapon. Sevika mouth twitches, twisted satisfaction writhing in her chest as she feels the oh-so-addicting taste of a power for this one moment.

 

But in all her dreams and ambitions, Sevika is still a realist, haunted by thousands of hollow faces and dead hands reaching for her - she knows her place and it's not in the furious vanguard anymore. She's no longer allowed to not think of her actions - so, ever so slowly and with sour taste in her mouth, she leans away from the unsettled general.

 

“Don't worry though. Zaun has learned its lesson long ago in what we are allowed to do long ago. It's you who changed the rules and are surprised we won't give in any further.”

 

It’s not enough.

 

“I've been trying… so hard!” Kirimann shakes as she speaks, one of her hands wrapped around her elbow as she suddenly seems so much smaller. “To understand you! I'm willing to acknowledge your hurts but only if you allow them to be acknowledged, not keep on shutting out the conversation with your anger!”

 

But whatever it's true or not, Sevika is a merciless, vile beast, only ever growing angrier, only accumulating years-long frustration and…

 

“You just don't get it, do you? If we act rashly, we lose the hand that hits - while Piltover could spit on our heads and would still be expecting thanks for not throwing something heavier.“ She spits out, feeling her fist itch in a reckless show of a fraying self-control. “Your resolve is too weak if trying is the only thing you’re capable of doing, oh general.”

 

The general sputters, maybe tries to ready her answer to Sevika’s accusations - but doesn't really manage to get anything out before Sevika storms past her, knowing that if she stays there a moment longer, she won't control herself anymore. If she hears the pathetic sniffling of a privileged Piltie trash one more time she will do something drastic - that dirty, bloodthirsty beast in her chest assures her of that. To listen to those excuses, easily shattered, ignorant words of a person who never saw the Bridge, who never even heard of it, much less understood the reason for it - it feels like the ultimate betrayal, even when she expected nothing from Kirimann anyway.

 

Before, the general was a distant figure of an enemy - now, even worse, she's also a half baked traitor who easily blamed all her problems on Zaunites. But who would expect any better of her?

 

Sevika doesn't want to stop, is scared of what she might do once she does but of course she has to. In front of her room stands Thieram, looking startled as he sees her arrive and next to him Bo, who took the general’s gun to the bartender. She could ignore them, of course, leave them guessing about whatever she wants them to follow, just like Silco used to do sometimes - but she always found it to be a waste of time and she doesn't want to be followed actually. So instead she stops, looking expectantly at Thieram and allows him a moment to gulp nervously and finally begin his rapport.

 

It's easier, listening to Thieram stumble through the words of the doctor - the stitches will hold but she'll need to have them removed, if she cares to not have them rot  and the debt has been paid but next time I won't work for free - and his own apologies for letting the pair go to the office but she already seemed ready to bust up her stitches and I didn't think you wanted the job to get wasted, boss. Sevika nods and feels the distance build, a detachment forming that allows her to coolly give them orders of making sure things stay under wraps and to have Bo stand watch over the hallway - to make sure both the general and Vi end up in a locked room until further notice. There are still plenty of matters to handle - one of the most important ones being to go downstairs and disperse any rumours with her own presence - but that particular burden feels extremely heavy on Sevika's shoulders. 

 

They nod in understanding, in compliance, and then Sevika is just standing there, staring. Thieram steps in place nervously, his gaze curious even if he doesn't dare to ask and Bo cocks his head too, the longer she doesn't move. They are but a moment away from asking questions and Sevika suddenly knows she can't bear to answer - feels the tremor of built-up stress shaking in her fingers. She steps away, moves past them, but quickly realizes she doesn't have a place to go to - her old room houses two flight risks, Silco’s bedroom is in the wrong direction - and she doesn't want to be there anytime she doesn't have to - and the bar is full of even more questions. It makes a breath catch in Sevika’s chest, forces her eyes closed to lessen the sudden sting and–

 

And suddenly Sevika needs to move.

 

Her body chooses on her own - up the hallway, past the stairs down and straight to the shabby ladder and drafty cover of the roof. Her knees hit the steps clumsily but she doesn't stop - going up and up and almost blacking out before she lets the trapdoor shut with a bang. 

 

She walks to the edge slowly, mechanically, and observes the nightlife before her, watches people go by - the trickle of them splitting off to the stalls, to the ragged buildings, to the Last Drop. Her eyes slide over an old man dragging a bag behind him, a dressed up girl waving to people at the doors of the brothel, skinny kids sitting on the corner and tinkering with something, right next to that alley where Sevika finally got to splatter Smeech against the wall. The memory makes her lips twitch lifelessly, on pure instinct, when she remembers the rush of adrenaline when Jinx threw her the arm and the addicting feel of pulled lever and how Isha giggled and gave them that toothy smile despite not knowing anything yet and…

 

And then it hits her, once again.

 

Isha is gone.

 

She won't smile again. She won't eat the half-burnt pancakes, pull at Sevika’s sleeve when she wants to grab her attention, won't scribble down in her notebook and then shove it into her face anymore.

 

Won't ever give Sevika the reason of why she even fucking tries.

 

Because Isha is dead.

 

And there’s nothing she can do about it.

 

Her breath grows laboured, her fingers shaking as if she just went off Shimmer when she ruffles around her coat for the smokes, she knows she still had some, damnit, but she only finds the lighter, that last gift Silco ever gave her from Finn’s corpse and–

 

The lighter clatters to the ground and Sevika can't help but follow.

 

Isha is dead.

 

And Sevika screams.

 

She didn't mean to, not when she first came to the roof, now when she first heard the news. It was undignified, it wouldn't help anything and there was work to be done but…

 

She doesn't get a say. The scream just tears from her throat, full of frustration, of anger, of pure, unmasked grief. 

 

Jinx was supposed to take care of Isha.

 

Sevika was supposed to make something better.

 

Kids weren't supposed to die.

 

And none of it mattered.

 

Because the little girl with missing teeth and grabby hands and bossy attitude buried under her fear won't ever see the better world Sevika dreamed of. Because the giggling terror looking at Jinx and Sevika both with unashamed adoration never even breathed the fresh air of Piltover. Because her curious, inventive little mind won't ever write millions of questions about the high buildings and Hextech gates of up above ever again. Can't ever accept Sevika’s awkward promise of taking her to see them herself one day.

 

Because Isha is dead.

 

Sevika feels the moment her scream loses its strength, how her trembling body chokes on the sound and drowns into the pitiful wail. Sevika doesn't cry, she never cries, not even when she loses her parents and siblings and countless friends and allies - not even when she betrays Vander or when she stops trusting Silco. Sevika only ever gets angry, only ever wants to fight, except there is nothing to fight about death. Isha went out swinging and didn't leave anything for Sevika, left her with only scraps of her childish dreams and lost hope of tomorrow. 

 

What is the point of free Zaun, the question haunts her scattered mind, if the kids won't survive to see it?

 

If Isha can't be there?

 

It's late, much too late to be effective, but Sevika bites into her arm in some attempt to muffle the sounds tearing from her traitorous, shaking body. She tastes the blood and suddenly wishes for the foul, faint aftertaste Shimmer always left in her mouth, even when she never swallowed it directly. The thought has her itching for her old vice, for the physical shudder of power and the high of strength, the unbearable confidence it always made her surge with, the dull for any phantom or real pain. Maybe the Sevika on Shimmer would have been strong enough - fast enough, competent enough, smart enough - to not let Jinx go with Isha alone. Maybe that Sevika wouldn't have let this future come to pass - or at least wouldn't have lasted long enough to see the aftermath, what with the effects that have already shattered her body once before. It's a selfish, destructive desire - and she's already so close to the edge…

 

Her head hits the pavement, her body bending as if she was the praying kind and maybe she should have been. Her scattered thoughts can't comply, can't put together any words to anyone up above who might be listening. She doubts they would have mercy for the Zaunities anyway - it is just their lot in life, just their luck to have nothing watching over their depraved, twisted lives, the only ones they ever know. And yet she tries, for the little Isha - for someone, anyone to take care of her.

 

Gods know Isha has always deserved better than what they could give her. 

 

She almost doesn't hear it - just barely does, the sound of the cat-like steps. She knows them, doesn't hear the accompanying click of her gun and that's how Sevika explains to herself why she doesn't move. Her ears ring when she finally realises her voice is gone, her teeth drawing blood for nothing. Still, she cannot bear to straighten, to look into the eyes of a person who came, to force herself into being something better.

 

She doesn't know what she expects in return - a punch, a whine, another meltdown. Instead there's only a hand with a cold, metal finger sliding over her back - light, hesitant, shaky - and then bony arms slip around her shoulders.

 

They feel like something Isha would do.

 

Sevika feels a shuddering breath and a pitful, pathetic whine rip out of her throat - her muscles tensing up, her eyes shutting in cowardice. The arms withdraw, an answering sort of sound from the person at her back - but she doesn't back off. Jinx never knew when to.

 

Instead there's a force making Sevika sit up, just enough to have her body slip under her right arm. The weight is not enough for how tall and lanky it is - the tangled, blue strands tickling at her throat and thin fingers, stronger than they look, grasping at her arm.

 

Jinx could most certainly make Sevika let go with pure force - but the girl is slow and careful as she reaches for Sevika’s jaw and tries to make her let go. She fights it for a moment - the bite is keeping her stable, keeping her contained, she doesn't know what else might escape her once she lets go - but then she sees the flash of those desperate, sad eyes and she can't help it.

 

She lets go.

 

Jinx takes her arm slowly, rotating it around to see the bloody marks she left there herself and the ones caused by Sevika’s teeth, poking at skin around it until she's satisfied enough to let the arm fall. Sevika doesn't dare look at her face, doesn't dare to move at all, even when Jinx reaches to her forehead and brushes away some of the dust and dirt. Eventually, the wildfire turns just enough to lay her head on Sevika’s chest, slithering into her side as if it was normal.

 

It's not normal. Jinx doesn't do gentle with Sevika - Sevika doesn't let Jinx get away with so much shit. That moment isn't them, isn't how they deal with one another - but Sevika can't help how her arm twitches around the girl, how she leans into her messy hair and exhales heavily, finally realising she hasn't been breathing right for a while now. There's comfort and rightness in Jinx being here - even when Sevika knows she doesn't deserve it.

 

“I'll make you a new arm.” Jinx’s voice cracks as she says it quietly, as she burrows her head further into Sevika’s chest and shoves more hair into her face. “It will be even better. I'll fix it up so well that you won't ever lose it again.”

 

And there is hysterical laughter once again deep in Sevika’s throat, bubbling and threatening to burst and it makes her feel crazy. Arm or no arm, she always loses when it's important, doesn't matter how many gimmicks and cheat-codes she has. Shimmer-one failed Silco, Jinxy-one couldn't stop Isha from getting taken - and Sevika doesn't want to face what she'll lose with the next one. But there is eagerness and desperation in Jinx’s words that she knows well - that she feels in the useless twitch of her fingers as they lock onto the girl's arm, as they push her closer.

 

They both want to fix things, anything they possibly can. It feels too cruel to remind her how much they can't. 

 

“Did you bury her?”

 

Jinx twitches, her body tensing and some mumble leaving her lips - Sevika always knows how to ruin things, even when she doesn't mean to - but doesn't pull away, not how she expects her to. She shakes her head, once, twice and Sevika won't assume it's an answer - can't be sure when the very thought keeps Jinx shuddering and talking with the ghost.

 

She doesn't expect Jinx to actually say anything.

 

“There wasn't anything left.” 

 

The words whispered into her chest hit her like a metal pipe during that one tax collection - her heart suddenly meeting the bone and leaving her rattled, wheezing. She doesn't know whether it's worse or better than what she imagined - whatever it's good that Isha’s not lying anywhere broken, with half open eyes and bloodied tiny fingers or if the way she went out makes it even more painful. She remembers the burn of that first bomb, how it seared her left arm cleanly from the rest of her body, how the cuts on her face never stopped shining with the blue residue. She can't help but wonder if it hurt just as badly for Isha too - or if she got to go out quickly, without a chance for the pain to set in.

 

It's worse. The uncertainty makes it even worse.

 

“Why didn't you stay with your sister?” She chokes out the first thought that comes to her mind, anything to distract from the thought of the blue explosion consuming tiny, underweight body.

 

There’s a moment of silence then, as the noises of the streets grow too distant, as Sevika feels how they shake in their embrace and can't tell which of them is more responsible for it. She can't help the stray thought that bringing up Vi of all people might make it worse but it's, of course, already too late to take it back. Sevika opens her mouth again, trying to think of something else to say but–

 

“Vi doesn't get it.”

 

Traitor, Piltie’s lapdog but also Vander’s brat, Silco’s victim, child prisoner and the old guilt, weight of her regret hits her with the unfairness of this situation and–

 

“I don't get it either.” Her words curl around one another clumsily, torn and jumbled just like her thoughts. “And she wants to know, clearly. You wanted her to, before. So what's different?”

 

Jinx only shakes her head again, enough strength put in it to shake them both.

 

“But she doesn't get it. And you do.” Her eyes are far away, looking past Sevika but her hands curl up around her scarred forearm. “You were the one that got her. Understood her signing and made her breakfasts and taught her stuff.”

 

“You did that stuff on the daily. I didn't–”

 

“Exactly. She was… Isha was ours.” The name barely passes her throat, her voice strained as she clutches to Sevika but her touch doesn't hurt. “I don't want to share her with Vi when she won't even know her.”

 

The words do hurt, they make Sevika want to scream again, tear at her arm and her useless fucking stump - but Jinx is too close, blockes her movement and–

 

And she gets it. The reason why Jinx doesn't want Vi right now. It's the same reason Sevika isn't drinking and gambling and smoking, like she always does after a hard loss. Why she allows Jinx to cling and why she accommodates her on the cold and dirty roof. Why she isn't working at de-escalating rumors and why she didn't say shit to Bo’s and Thieram’s unasked questions.

 

Because Sevika doesn't want to share her grief with anyone who doesn't care. 

 

Jinx is breathing heavier now, her gaze even more empty - and it's harder for Sevika to focus too, knowing that Jinx must be seeing ghosts again and that little Isha is there again, probably, and the thought of her being so close and yet so invisible to Sevika, even if she isn't real, is too horrible and–

 

Little Isha was the one who came to the rally, the memory hits Sevika with all the intensity of dyed hair and tiny hands clinging to the statue and all of the trainwreck it started when she got taken. But Isha came because Jinx wouldn't, because she wanted to shine in her absence, because…

 

Because Isha, like a kid she was, never doubted Sevika’s promise of freedom.

 

“We gotta make it right.” She chokes out, suddenly unable to breathe quite right again, her fingers squeezing bony shoulder. “For what… What she wanted too. We gotta make Zaun better. Make it… make it a Nation.”

 

Jinx squeezes her eyes, her face twisting and bending, surely remembering the same dream spoken of with that same dry baritone, pained whine tearing from her but–

 

“You hear me, Jinx?” Sevika’s voice breaks but her stare doesn't as she waits for the wildfire, as she stares at her curled up, grieving form. “We gotta do it for the kid. For what she wanted, what she fought for. For… for Isha.”

 

The whine stops and Sevika feels how wet her cheeks are, realizing her own tears are stuck in her throat and stinging in her eyes. But she doesn't care anymore about her dignity, her reputation, how childish crying about problems has always felt to her - because, in that one moment, she needs Jinx to know. To believe in the same person Isha always did, the same one whose intentions Sevika grew to reluctantly trust in as well.

 

“Told you you didn't need me for the speeches, Lefty.” The joke lands flat when Jinx’s voice cracks lifelessly, when she doesn't have enough of a spark in her eye to actually make a taunt out of it. “You just have that conviction. Knew you wouldn't lose it, not over anything.”

 

It's a lie, a stupid one because no one ever rallies behind criminal’s bodyguard, no one ever listens to handless brute and a shimmer addict - because it's easier, cleaner to see the blue-haired wildfire, firing into unjust spheres above, rebelling against the tyranny. Sevika is tyranny, symbol of the old order and it doesn't matter if she wants Zaun to grow taller and reach outside when no one would ever see her as a hero.

 

But if there's one thing that's still true…

 

“I'm not wrong.”

 

Jinx only nods, tiny, almost not visible.

 

“Yeah, she wanted it.” She admits with a voice bigger than her slouched shoulders and lowered eyes. “She wanted to see me do it most of all. Adored the graffiti, the message, the symbol. Don't know if she really knew what it took though. What she was asking me to do, when she wanted me to burn for them.”

 

“But you already were burning. You still are the spark and so many people… they believe. Have you never wanted to make this real? To force them to give us that freedom?”

 

But Jinx only shakes and closes her eyes, looking so small, so unlike the bold figure of the posters, so similar to broken Powder clinging to Silco’s leg.

 

“I don't know what I want.” Jinx whispers brokenly. “I just… I just want her back. If I can't get it then… then what's even the point of trying?”

 

And then she finally raises her head, just a little - just enough to make Sevika realize where exactly she's been staring all this time. Her gaze stuck to the edge of the roof, the sheer drop enough to wound if not kill, the dirty river close enough to throw your own broken body to not be found until long after you drown and–

 

And Sevika has always despised cowards, the ones not willing to put any effort into uniting, have spit into Vander’s face when he gave in, have swung a blade over Silco’s head when he wobbled but–

 

But Jinx looks small and hopeless and fragile - as if the stronger breeze of clean air would make her fall and shatter too badly to glue herself together again. Even for Sevika, the hopeless dreamer - it feels too cruel to demand it of her.

 

Even when the ghost of hopeful eyes bores a hole in the side of her head and tugs at her leg insistently, already begging her to work, work, work…

 

Sevika squeezes Jinx harder, as if she could stop her from falling.

 

“Fine. Fine, okay.” The bitterness is hard to swallow, the acknowledgement that she's on her own, that it's back to square zero and building herself up again on her own. “Just… just keep going, alright? Don't just… leave me alone with all this mess.”

 

“I would only make more of it. You always bitched about it to the old man.”

 

It's unspoken and Sevika has always been terrible at those unfinished statements but this time she knows - she remembers complaining about Jinx to Silco but to Isha too, even if the little warrior would bravely scribble in her notes and furiously sign to argue, no matter if Sevika was right or not. She doubts Jinx forgot it, what with how often she flaunted over Isha’s unwavering support and…

 

Their eyes meet, their gazes collide, both glistening and pained but Sevika thinks she sees it - the flash of recognition, of mutual understanding born of shared grief.

 

They can't take care of Isha anymore, neither of them. It seems only fair to stick by each other once again.

 

“You said it yourself.” Sevika’s mouth twists, something between a smile and a grimace, with all of the bittersweet obligation curling around the tight hold they have on each other. “Nothing new to me.”

 

Jinx leans her head against Sevika, so childish and terrifyingly clingy. But the gesture is enough for Sevika to hide her face in blue, messy hair and it's not normal. It’s not something they do.

 

But there's still a small space between them, big enough for a tiny, wriggling body with a big helmet and they both know it. It only makes them cling harder.

 

Sevika doesn't cry.

 

But then she finally does.

Notes:

Would you believe me if I said that I started this fic right after the finale of season 2? And published it only in the goddammned 2026? Well, we're on ao3 so you probably can believe it but damn, it took a While. But well, in the end Sevika-centric tag is STILL too small and probably won't get that much bigger, now that Arcane is over so I felt obligated to contribute, even after such a long time because Sevika is... Well, she sure is something to my heart and it's very precious. And if the show wasn't willing to give her even a single line of dialouge in act 3 (I'll never stop being salty over it), not to mention not even a slither of reaction to the death of Isha NOR Jinx - yeah, I'm still pissed about it and the "Sevika's story will continue in act 3". Ah, what a load of bullshit that was.

To be completly honest, I'm not particuraly happy with this fic. I think the dialouge stretches on too much in some places and really slows down the progress and I probably tried to force too many elements of Sevika's character study that I started on during the season 2. But if I start the work on it again then I will just never finish it so here I am, posting it anyway because Sevika deserves to grieve Isha, even if it's just in my mediocre style.

Also, I swear I'm not that big of Caitlyn hater. Like, I have issues with some of her actions but I do understand them, mostly, and think she absolutely could have made up for them - but from the pov of Sevika I just could not find much for her to symphatize on. Sevika is just too loyal to Zaun and the dream of Nation of Zaun to tolerate Caitlyn's explanation and if she could have presented better arguments - that's on me, I couldn't think of many. Geniunely don't think there is much that Caitlyn at that point in the story can say to defend herself so.. yeah. Turned out pretty Caitlyn critical. But if you're reading in Sevika-centric tag then I don't think you're really suprised by it so I'll stop with my grovel.

Also sorry for any grammar and spelling issues - I think I caught most of them but frankly I'm a little sick of editing this and second-guessing myself everywhere so it's probably here to stay. Most of it should be clear enough and if it's not then please let me know and I'll try to fix it up. Despite my mixed feelings on this work, I do want it to at least function as readable so please don't feel bad about point mistakes out! Also, if I should have tagged something I didn't, please tell me as well!

And, of course, I am, as always, open to any discussion about Sevika or complaining about season 2 cause it was such a mess. You know, perfect to clean up by the stressed Sevika ;) If you're interested, I'm semi active on my Tumblr and always answer my inbox question - and if you're not then I wish you find awesome fics and have a good day. Or at least a better one than poor Sevika and Jinx.