Chapter Text
Jinx was a marvel. She was smart and ruthless and so like him it ached sometimes. He didn’t have to turn her into his creature. She already was.
What happened to Vander was a pity, but he refused to spend much thought on him.
What happened with Viktor was worse. He should have stayed, he wanted to stay, he saw it in his eyes. Piltover would twist him into their pet and soon whatever things his clever mind could conceive of would be used against his own people. That and Jinx was far too attached to him. She had clung to Viktor as she had to him on that night. Fear bit at his throat when he had asked her to come with him, another brilliant Zaunite mind given over to those above who’d eat them if it would gain them a penny. Jinx had refused, though. She was cleverer than Viktor. His Jinx.
“When can I see Viktor?” Jinx asked not an hour after he left.
She was seated at Silco’s feet surrounded by brightly colored crayons, scribbling across pieces of paper and a few spare glasses she had pulled out from behind the bar. She moved about the Last Drop like she owned the place, and he supposed she did. A relic from her time in Vander’s care.
“Later, Jinx. Let the boy settle,” Silco replied.
If he had his way, of course, she’d forget about him entirely.
“He won’t become a Piltie.”
“He won’t. He never could, even if he wanted to. None of us down here can, child. They’ll always judge us as less than them, fools that they are in their gilded towers.”
Jinx didn’t respond. There was a faraway look in her eyes that worried him. Sevika, his new right hand, said she’d heard the child talking to herself. It didn’t matter. Everyone had their demons.
Silco went to visit Singed the day after Viktor left. The man had embraced the nickname, a last rejection of whatever his life had been before he’d come to Zaun. He was in no worse or better shape than he’d been the last time Silco visited. A mercy, he supposed. How the man had survived was a mystery, but then perhaps that was a miracle of shimmer.
“You need to start production again,” Silco said by way of greeting, his grand plans already forming.
“I need a little more time. And a new assistant,” Singed replied.
“You know about Viktor, then?”
“He came to see me.”
“Touching.”
“He was looking for you. And the girl.”
“He found us. You should have drugged him again.”
Singed laughed sadly and shook his head. For a moment, Silco felt a brief kinship with him.
“He hates me enough. I won’t push him further away.”
“He made you weak. You’re barely better than Vander.”
“Have you ever had a child, Silco?”
Silco shook his head. Of course he hadn’t. Hardly anyone had looked at him twice since Vander drowned him and he had no time for such weights. A child could drown you, the same as a brother.
He tried not to think about Jinx.
“Then you do not understand,” Singed said sadly.
“How much longer do you need?”
“My healing is progressing nicely. Give me a week. Two, perhaps if…” Singed trailed off. He was not saying something. It was not subtle.
“You think the boy will come back for you?” Silco asked perhaps a little harsher than was warranted.
“Perhaps. He said he might. I will need at least three people to replace him.”
“Fine. Expanding the operation was part of my plan anyway.”
Singed nodded, wincing. Silco wanted to argue that Viktor had left them both behind, would leave Jinx behind too once his work started in earnest. His relationship with Viktor was hard to define. He wouldn’t pretend that either of them had any real affection for the other, but he knew the boy. He would loose himself in discovery and forget everything and everyone down below. He kept his mouth shut though. There was no use in it. Viktor had always been a card to play against Singed, but he had never needed it. He doubted he ever would.
Silco was done with Singed, so he left. It was good to move openly again. Even better when people avoided him out of fear. Or, perhaps the best, the ambitious few who sought him out to join his new empire. He’d have his Nation of Zaun. He just had to be patient, something he had learned to excel at since Vander tried to drown him all those years ago. He really should have thanked him.
When he returned, Jinx was waiting in his office. She looked nervous and held something behind her back. He waited until she crawled into his lap and presented it.
She had covered one of his ashtrays in colorful scribbles. He took it gently and studied it.
“I wanted to say thank you. For saving me,” Jinx said quietly.
Silco rested his hand on her head, and she smiled up at him.
“It’s lovely, Jinx.”
He put the ashtray on the corner of his desk as the girl (who was not his daughter) settled against him. He liked it better before, but it did brighten up the room.