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Perhaps if the undercity were not the way it was, they would not be in this situation.
Perhaps if children of Zaun did not spend every moment growing up fighting and snarling and biting because you did not last otherwise. Perhaps if they were looked after, cared for, the same way that Piltover children could afford to be. Perhaps if anything down here stopped perpetuating the cycle of violence and abuse (Silco knows he is guilty of this, he just can no longer care. It serves towards Zaun, is the only hope he has of achieving that, and he is a selfish man).
Perhaps if Silco had ever made it more clear that he would lose Jinx for nothing.
But Jinx is here, now, unsure of this- unsure of so much. Unsure of who she is, of how strong she is, unsure of herself. And Silco can not help her, and they are hurting her.
“You’ll never have to see him again,” her sister says, and Silco knows Jinx, knows that this is one of her experiments just as much as it is genuine inquiry, knows that it is Jinx trying to test how far Violet will go for her. Violet fails, and it is with these words that she tries to pull a victory back from the girl whose name she will not even say correctly. Silco snarls behind the mask over his mouth, tries to say it, jerks his arms, because there is nothing that any one of them could do to prevent him from staying with his daughter, and Jinx needs to know that.
Never would he leave her. Not for anything.
“Her name,” he hisses, “is Jinx.”
Because Jinx is who she wants to be, Jinx is stronger than the little girl who never felt any sort of power, who was hurt so desperately. Jinx is her choice, Jinx is withholding any power that others might have had over her by taking it for herself, Jinx is a name she has chosen herself, and it is cruel of them to keep calling her by a name that she rejects.
“She’s lying,” next, an explanation because Jinx is unsure and Silco is going to slaughter them all before he allows them to hurt her again. She cannot remember, right now, cannot recall the agony that had crippled her for so long after the first betrayal, so Silco will remind her. And the words come out too angry, too scared, but Jinx needs to know, needs to understand.
Out of nowhere- a bullet wound in the doll that’s kept her company for most of a decade. She yells, angry and upset and scared and overwhelmed.
Silco does what he can to soothe her, to calm her, because Jinx needs to be careful, he needs to make sure she is okay, that she understands that he values her above everything.
“The topsiders offered me everything,” he tells her, and very carefully does not flinch even as he notices the enforcer reach to grasp the shattered glass on the table. His chest fills with dread, and he speaks faster. “Independence, a seat at the table.”
Please do not, he thinks, pleads, begs. Please, because he is so close to calming her down, to getting her to understand her worth, her importance, how much he loves her-
It is them, it is always going to be them-
She is near tears, but she is listening, she is hearing him, she is calming-
“You’re my daughter,” he tells her softly, because she has been forgetting recently. He should have made sure to remind her more often, should have never risked this fact getting muddled, should have never made it anything less than abundantly clear. “I’ll never forsake you.”
And-
No.
He was so close, he was so close, she was so close to being okay, to calming down and being able to think this through, to decide for herself and not her own ghost-
“Drop the gun!” barks Violet’s pet enforcer, and Jinx just… tires. She slowly turns around, stares at her stolen gun in the hands of an enemy through loose hair. She looks… very tired. Very resigned.
Her face is collapsing, going so numb the way it only ever does after particularly bad nightmares, after Silco finds her screaming and sobbing and hurt and no-
He pulls harder against the ropes around him, feels his heart sink.
They were so close.
And Jinx is his daughter, she will never drop her weapon just to appease an enemy, will never leave herself unarmed and open that way. She has been taught too well, knows better, is too wise. So her hand flexes around her gun, and Silco blurts out without thinking, “Jinx.”
She pauses momentarily. Just a tiny stiffening of her shoulders, head ducking imperceptibly down. “Jinx,” he calls again, and the enforcer begins looking more confused than angry.
Jinx does not move her eyes from the enemy in front of her, does not give her a chance to pull any surprise, but she does quietly say, “What?”
“I never,” he says slowly. “Would have given you to them.”
She looks over her shoulder at him, eyes so brilliantly bright and Silco vividly recalls the terror that had gripped him for every moment he had not known she would be alright.
“Don’t listen to her.” A hand is free, and he works on undoing the rest behind his back. “I never would have given you to them,” he repeats, reminds, tells her until she believes it. “Not for anything. Do not let them convince you otherwise. Do not let them have that power over you.”
“She’s…”
He nods, understanding, reassuring. “She is your sister, I know. But she left you that night when you were a child, and she left you again that night on the bridge, even once she saw you were hurt. She will leave you again.”
Violet’s face twists, and she opens his mouth to say something, but Jinx is faster than her- her arm raises, gun pointed squarely at her head.
“Don’t interrupt,” she tells her sister. “I’m trying to listen here, ya know.” A pause. “She saw I was hurt?”
Hesitant, only because he knows this information will hurt her. “Yes.”
“That’s not-
A bullet lands several inches to the left of Violet’s head. “I said, be quiet.”
Violet swallows harshly, eyes wide and teary.
“I will never leave you,” Silco continues. “Not for anything.”
The enforcer is edging backwards, but her silent gait is interrupted by the crunch of broken glass. She is still holding Jinx’s gun. Silco prays that she will not interrupt again, will not destroy the progress he is making, do not hurt her -
“You do not have to fight them again. You never have to fight if you do not want to, Jinx.”
“I know.”
“Let them go. You have had your ghosts with you for a very long time, my child, but you do not have to keep them. Let them go, set them aside. Leave them here, with your past. You are so much stronger than them. You do not have to keep fighting them. Don’t listen to them. I have you.”
His arms are finally free. He jerks the ropes away, carefully stands, holds his hands out, calm, steady. Jinx blinks back more tears, looks very much the same as she has since they have met- young and tired and sad and too beautiful for anything else hidden underneath Piltover.
She glances back at the enforcer, at her stolen gun still being loosely held. She ignores it. Turns to Silco, takes jerky steps forwards until her forehead collides with Silco’s shoulder. She exhales slowly against him, lets Silco gently hold her, lets him hug her.
Gives the others her back with the understanding that Silco is watching it for her, that he would never let either of them do anything to her.
“You’re alright,” he whispers, hand gentle against her head as it steadies her.
There is no small amount of satisfaction when he locks eyes with Violet over Jinx’s shoulder and sees that she looks broken.
“Don’t cry,” he murmurs, because Jinx's bony shoulders are trembling under his palm. “You’re perfect.”
He holds her for another moment, wishes he could for longer, but there is still a gun aimed at them, and there are still too many people after Jinx for them to remain here.
“Jinx,” he calls very quietly. “It’s time to go. Are you ready?”
She turns, gazes at Violet and the enforcer for a moment before dragging feet over to the empty chairs, moves like she is dancing to a very slow song that only she can hear. She sets her gun on the Jinx seat, tilts it. Looks over at Silco, then at her sister. And, suddenly, too fast for Silco to follow- grabs her gun back, slams the back of it into the enforcer with enough force to knock her limply to the ground.
Jinx glances back to the cold metal, and unceremoniously falls into her seat with a huff.
“I thought,” she says softly, looking up at who used to be her sister. Silco is gratified that she doesn’t look very upset. Her voice has gone that little bit deeper that it usually only does around him, when she is settled into her own skin, more confident and stable, no more masks. “That maybe you could love me like you used to. But… But he always loved me. Even though I’m… different. And you…”
She sighs, heavily. Looks back to Silco over her shoulder. He gives her an encouraging nod, silent.
Jinx looks over to Violet once more.
“You changed, too. We’re both different than we were. Not the same people as before. And you will only ever love Powder, huh? But I’m not her anymore. And I don’t know you either.”
She leans forward, stands and bounces idly on her feet. “So,” she says, less heavy, less upset. She leans across the table, grabs the hextech from where she had placed it. “Here’s to the new us.”
She skips back over to Silco, jumping nonchalantly over the unconscious body of the enforcer. Violet sobs from behind them.
Silco picks up Jinx’s gun, sets the strap over his shoulder. He holds out his free hand.
Jinx does not look back when she takes it and they walk out of the building.