Archive of Our Own

He sees her at the market one day, one particularly unexceptional weekend, and he feels his heart stop. Just a little. It's not like the feeling is unfamiliar, of course, but in the little life he and Jayce have built for themselves on the edge of Valoran, the stopping of his heart has grown into an unusual occurrence.

She's obscenely pale. Leucistic would be the term, her skin almost translucent. Her hair is shoulder length now, vaguely asymmetrical, but still that vibrant blue. Her clothes are baggy, and there’s a hood pulled over her head, but he knows who it is. Who wouldn’t? Who hasn’t seen her wanted posters on every street corner everyday for the last five years?

Well, he thinks, probably the people in this town.

She's gone as fast as she came, and Viktor's uncertainty overtakes him. He’s still in shock, of course, the adrenaline of seeing a familiar face freezing him stock still. His trust in his senses has been, to say it lightly, eroded, so he returns to his home in a daze, arms absentmindedly pushing his wheelchair down the paved path. He arrives slower than usual, and he’s distant, but Jayce holds him anyways, and Viktor will never get quite used to that.

Viktor sees her again, the next day. He is usually one to trust his instincts, but his instincts did attempt to abolish humanity, so he’s a little reluctant to believe Jinx of all people is in his middle-of-fucking-nowhere town. But that blue. That distinct, ‘punch-you-in-the-face’ electric blue. It's unmistakable. Unless it is mistakeable, of course, and Viktor is clinically insane. His sanity never really came into question before the war, surprisingly, but kickstarting the heat death of the universe does put one’s perception of reality into question.

“Am I crazy, Jayce?” Viktor asks as he returns home, deadpan. He raises his eyebrows, implying that there is a correct answer.

Jayce sighs. He's underneath the kitchen sink, fixing God-knows-what. “I think you’re very smart and capable.”

Viktor takes his crutch from its leaning position against the side of his armchair and whacks the living room table leg. “You’re lucky I don't crawl over this table and smack you.”

Jayce scoots from under the sink, sitting up in a swift, elegant motion. He's smiling, that bastard.

“Am I wrong?”

Viktor squints.

A week later, when Viktor is leaving the local library after helping a student with some research, he sees a ghost sitting on the sidewalk. Sitting is a generous term, actually, to describe what she’s doing. Her back is flat on the ground, and her legs are straight up against the back library wall, in an impressive display of stamina, Viktor thinks. The book she’s reading, something about metavelocity and aeroespacial calculus, has her face twitching and her feet absently knocking into each other. Before he knows it, and definitely against his better judgement, he takes a detour, guiding his chair over the gravel path and beyond the corner of the library. Her hair is choppy, tied into two unruly knots that sit on the top of her head. He bends a bit, leans over himself to see her.

“You’re blocking my sun, bud,” she drawls, never removing her gaze from her book.

“Powder?” Viktor asks.

That’s what makes her look away from her book, eyes wide, before recoiling away from him like she’s been shot. Viktor regrets saying anything at all, but he stays put, polite and quiet, as he is wont to be. In a second, Jinx jumps to her feet, tense and wild. She seems to start and scrap three different opening sentences, mouth silently curving around various consonants and vowels, before eventually landing on:

“Fortune cookie?”

Viktor smiles, even though he does want to curl up and die a little bit. “That's me.”

Jinx sways nervously. Points at him, gesturing up and down. “Well, you look… normal.”

Viktor grimaces, then smiles. “Thank you. I'm significantly less purple than the last time we met.”

And I'm significantly more dead. It's funny how that works,” Jinx shrugs.

“It is. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, y’know,” Jinx mumbles, tapping her nails against the cover of her book. “Building shit. Wrecking shit. Making shit. Burning shit. Human stuff, which I've heard you’re not a fan of.”

“Eh,” Viktor hums, quietly. “I've grown… fond. Of domestic life. I was never meant for the ruthlessness of Piltover, as you were never meant for the ruthlessness of Zaun. I feel that I understand things better.”

“Do you?” Jinx asks, weirdly earnest. It makes Viktor uneasy.

“Yes,” he answers. “Do you?”

Jinx grimaces, throwing her hands up and shrugging in a very elaborate ‘I don't know, man.’

“It was nice seeing you, fortune cookie,” Jinx squeaks.

Viktor nods. Jinx moves to turn around, but Viktor makes a noise. It’s definitely an attempt at a word; a startled, involuntary clearing of his throat that stops Jinx in her tracks.

“I'm a teacher, now. Every other weekday,” Viktor starts, uncertain. He didn’t think he’d get this far. “At the college here. I meant what I said. At the commune. And staying idle…” Viktor hums, an attempt at nonchalance. “It’s not good for people like us.”

Jinx squints.“‘People like us?’”

Viktor nods. There’s silence.

“What I’m saying, very uneffectively, is that… My door is always open.” Viktor swallows. “Yes. My door is always open.”

Jinx kicks at a rock, avoiding his eyes. “What do you teach?”

“Eh,” Viktor mumbles, not necessarily expecting that to be what he is questioned about. Surprising, she is. “Math. Engineering. The fundamentals, mostly.”

She laughs, nasal and breathy. “You think I need the fundamentals, huh?”

“No,” Viktor states automatically, shaking his head.

Jinx sighs. Chews on her bottom lip. “I'll think about it. I will. Promise.”

What it is, exactly, Viktor isn’t sure of. An apprenticeship, maybe. He smiles politely as she turns away. Uncharacteristic of him, sure. Jayce would certainly think the world was ending again if he saw Viktor politely smiling at someone, but Viktor is pulling out all the stops. Just in case it sways her opinion in any particular direction.

He then realizes, no, Viktor, the daughter of Silco would not be swayed by pleasantries, you idiot, and takes a few minutes to try and erase the whole interaction from his mind. It was times like these that made him miss being part of a greater, abstract whole. He still is part of a greater whole, of course, in a more meaningful, human way, but nothing can compare to the computer-like efficiency of a hivemind. Made everything so ergonomic, Viktor thinks. He breathes deeply, like Jayce told him to. The air is crisp and sharp.

-

A week passes. Viktor waits. He knows she’ll come around, eventually.

Well, ‘know’ is a strong word. He also ‘knew’ that he was ‘helping’ people. He still waits. Hopes, even.

It's the middle of the night when Jinx finally comes around. She knocks on the door, which Viktor notes as uncharacteristically polite. He hopes he’s not given her the idea that he values politeness. Mentally cursing himself, Viktor tenderly shifts away from Jayce’s embrace. Jayce shoots up from their bed, however, immediately thinking of enforcers and prisons, but Viktor shushes him, tells him that it’s ‘a friend.’ Viktor grabs his crutch, throws on a shirt, and he makes sure he tells Jayce to ‘put on a fucking shirt if he’s gonna lurk in the hallway the whole time, my God’, before opening the door.

Her hair is in two uneven braids, and she’s wearing three different shirts in three different ways. Unmistakable.

“Thanks, man. If you took any longer I was gonna kick down your door.” Jinx smiles, sliding into Viktor’s quaint little living room. The book collection Viktor has managed to procure in a few months is impressive, Jinx thinks, shelves upon shelves upon piles on the floor. Something about staying idle. What she says though, is:

“Wow, it’s nerd central up in here.”

Viktor smiles. “I appreciate the knocking,” he mumbles, quiet. “Very nice of you, Powder.”

“I know, right? Soon I'll be holding doors or something.”

“Building dams.” Viktor muses, shutting the door behind Jinx.

Jinx taps her chin in mock thought. “Creating a commune.”

That’s what makes Jayce emerge from the hallway, joining Viktor like a guard dog. Jinx skitters behind Viktor’s plush armchair like a bug. “Why is there a mountain man?” She asks, really more of a yell than a question.

“He's not a mountain man, believe me,” Viktor says, exasperated.

“Hey, wait,” Jinx says, popping up from behind the shield of the armchair. “You’re the guy from the posters! The progress guy! Oh my god, man, why do you look like that?”

Jayce’s eyebrows reach the ceiling. “Like what?”

“Well, y’know.” Jinx gestures swinging an axe, then mimes a tree falling with her forearm. She whistles as it falls, and when Viktor and Jayce gawk at her, she clarifies: “A lumberjack.”

Viktor tries, and fails, to disguise a laugh as a cough.

Jayce crosses his arms. “And you’re Jinx.”

“Oh,” Jinx cringes, shrinking a little. “I feel like I was a lot nicer to you.”

“Relax, Jayce.” Viktor whispers. “No need to quarrel, children, I think we’ve…all had it out.”

Understatement of the century, perhaps, but it’s effective in diffusing the tension. Jayce gently drops his head into the dip of Viktor’s shoulder. Viktor presses a small kiss to Jayce’s temple.

“Go to sleep, my love,” Viktor whispers. Jayce considers, weighing his options, before he eventually acquiesces. He waves to Jinx as he leaves, so earnest and genuinely polite it makes her bark a laugh.

“Get a room,” Jinx sighs.

“In my house?”

“Yeah!” Jinx groans, theatrically grimacing, which makes them both laugh.

Jinx steps over the back of the armchair, (with her boots on, but Viktor will cross that bridge when he gets to it), and she drops herself right into the seat. It’s an obscenely comfortable armchair, objectively, Jayce designed it that way, but Jinx still contorts her limbs into a position that’s more akin to a somersault than the average sitting position. Viktor sits on the loveseat adjacent to his chair. He’d usually whack anyone who sits in his chair, but he’ll make a rare exception.

“I don't think I know your real name, fortune cookie,” Jinx says, high-pitched, from somewhere in her tangle of limbs and clothes and hair she calls a corporeal form.

“I guessed that,” Viktor chuckles lightly. He feels he’s being watched, which means he’s definitely being watched, so he glares at the hallway, and finds Jayce’s big dinner-plate brown eyes staring back. Viktor snaps his fingers like he’s training a dog and points to their bedroom.

“Don't hover!”

“I’m sorry!” Jayce whispers, holds his hands up apologetically before finally retreating.

“Goodnight, Jayce,” Viktor says, pointed.

Viktor hears their bedroom door click shut, and he can finally put his full attention on Jinx. Powder. Jinx.

“I don't think I know your name either,” Viktor says carefully.

Jinx smiles, something sad and nostalgic. “I think it’s both. The farther I get away from it all, the more I realize there isn’t really a difference.”

“I see,” Viktor says, not completely seeing. He can make some inferences, based on slices of information he’s retained from his time merged with the hexcore, but Jinx’s life is mostly shrouded in mystery, outside of Piltover’s fear-mongering headlines and their brief meeting in the commune. “It's Viktor, by the way.”

“Viktor.” Jinx hums. “Suits you. You look like a Viktor. You’re very pointy.”

Viktor inhales sharply, amused. “Astute observation.”

There’s a silence. Comfortable, strangely.

“Powder?”

Jinx kicks her feet. “That's me.”

Viktor thinks for a minute, picks at his nails. “What exactly brought you here today?”

Jinx sighs, heavy and dramatic, before hanging her head and limbs off the armchair.

“Well,” Jinx starts, picking a place at the wall to stare at. “I was sitting in my apartment- what a downgrade, right? I used to have a whole house to myself! Well, I don't know if you would call it a house. Maybe a basement. A loft. A loftment. Anyways, I was thinking about what you said, about being idle and whatnot, and…” Jinx pauses, train of thought apparently derailed. “Huh, yeah. I guess that’s it. I’m going crazy and I’m fucking bored. I thought I’d get to a bigger point eventually, but y’know how it is, Vik.”

“V.”

Jinx breaks eye contact with her designated staring spot to look at Viktor. “Hm?”

“It’s V,” Viktor explains softly. “In the same way you like Powder, I like V.”

“‘Like’ is a strong word,” Jinx articulates. Pitchy, like a bird. “And I always use Powder now.”

Viktor nods. “Right, right. In the same way you would use Jinx, then.”

Jinx looks at him, mouth somehow smushed to all one side, before rolling her eyes and smiling. “Derogatorily?”

“You’re being obtuse on purpose.”

Jayce laughs from the darkened hallway, before very audibly slapping his hand over his mouth.

Viktor whips his head around at lightning speed. “Hovering!”

“What's funny, mountain man?” Jinx asks, weirdly earnest. That gives Jayce permission to step out of the shadows, hands up placatingly. Viktor can hear Jinx twisting around in her seat, but is primarily focused on Jayce’s lurking.

“Nothing,” Jayce starts, shaking his head. “It’s just… I've never seen anyone sit like that in my entire life.”

Viktor turns his head back to Jinx and freezes. Huh, he thinks. Yes, this feat of human flexibility has never been achieved until this very moment. He would be impressed, if he wasn’t trying to calculate how the fuck Jinx’s leg managed to do that.

-

Viktor lent Jinx every book that he’s collected from the library. Jayce did have some objections, of course.

“The librarian is very nice! She will understand!”

“She’s only nice to you because she wants you! These books are four months late, Jayce. They are basically mine! It's like common law marriage!”

-

Viktor slides from his wheelchair onto his armchair, leaving it alone in the center of the room. Jinx is looped into a position not unlike the Gordian knot, hair splayed all across the floor. Viktor makes a noise, which catches Jinx’s attention, and gestures with his head towards his chair.

“Take it apart,” Viktor says, quiet.

“Huh?” Jinx honks.

Viktor’s face scrunches up, hiding a laugh, before he continues. “I want you to take apart my chair, and then put it back together.”

Jinx scratches her nose. “Don't you, like… need it?”

“I have my crutch,” Viktor explains, tapping his crutch, which is resting on the side of his chair.

“And you’re just gonna watch?”

Viktor nods, resting his head on the arm of his chair.

Jinx whistles through her teeth. “Jeez.”

“Crumbling under the pressure?” Viktor asks, smug.

Jinx wags her finger at Viktor. “I’m gonna fucking jump you.”

Jinx methodically unscrews the bolts, organizing them by size. ‘Organizing’ is generous, actually. They’re definitely sorted, Viktor thinks. In a sense. It takes a long while to take it all apart; it’s delicate work, but not impossible, and once all the pieces are (seemingly) sorted, Jinx folds over herself, groaning.

“How do you do this shit with no music? I can hear my blood, dude.”

“Jayce?” Viktor calls.

“Mhm,” Jayce hums, spontaneously appearing from the doorway.

“Don't hover,” Viktor says, pointing. “Could you show Jinx where the record player is?”

Jinx groans again, hiding her face in the crook of her elbow. “Why are you making me leave? I’m in the groove!”

“So you can pick your music! I’m being considerate!”

Jinx laughs, a high-pitched cackle that fills up the room.

“Yes, yes, alright,” Viktor says. “I’ll make sure to be less considerate and kind, just for you, Jinx.”

Jinx’s head wobbles around, like a sick cat, or a really involved pianist. “Oh my god, Miss Drama Queen.”

Viktor’s jaw hits the floor, not unlike a drama queen.

Jinx laughs first, laying flat on the floor. Her full chest cackle is what breaks Jayce; he hides his face in his hand, turning away to breathe a laugh. That bastard.

Viktor holds his hands up, shaking his head. “No, yes, of course, point and laugh. Let’s all point and laugh at Viktor.”

-

Jinx forgoes pushing the lever on the record player, letting the needle gently fall onto the vinyl, and she instead estimates where the song starts based on the grooves in the record, before dropping the needle from as high as its arm could raise it. Jayce visibly flinches. Viktor wonders how he is considered the drama queen.

“My dad always liked this one,” Jinx smiles.

“I’ve never heard it before.” Jayce says.

“Of course you haven’t, mountain man.” Jinx pokes Jayce on the forehead. He flinches. “This is a Zaun exclusive! Viktor knows it, too.”

Jayce whips his head around. He’s leaning against the doorway, idly observing. One may call it hovering, if one happened to be Viktor.

“Does he?” Jayce asks, genuinely curious.

Viktor furrows his eyebrows. “Do I?”

Jinx almost looks offended. She tosses her screwdriver, catches it, and then uses the round end as a microphone.

“Our love-,” Jinx sings, breathy and cartoonish. She then drops her voice as low as it can go, “-is a bubblin’ fountain.”

Jayce looks at Viktor expectantly. Jinx drops back down to the wheelchair, using her screwdriver with both of her hands, uncoordinated and clumsy but still functional in the ways that matter.

“Deeper than any ocean,” Jinx growls, exaggerated vibrato booming.

“For eternity-,” Jinx pauses. Her line of screws she’s neurotically organized has dwindled to a handful. She looks around for anything else, any part she may be missing or forgetting or God forbid lost, and there’s nothing. The wheelchair has been, basically, reconstructed, in half the amount of time it took for her to deconstruct it. Jinx quickly twists in the last few screws, excitedly fumbling a bit, before dropping the screwdriver.

“I finished!” Jinx yells, raising her hands towards the sky in celebration.

“You did,” Viktor notes, stone-faced.

“Did I pass?” Jinx freezes, then clarifies. “The test?”

Now it’s Viktor’s turn to freeze up. “This wasn’t a test, really.”

“Oh, yes it was,” Jinx hisses, smiling. “Wait, this is the best part! Like Sunday, I pray our love will always stay pure.”

The singing is really more like screeching than anything else, but what really sells it is her little dance; she closes her eyes and twirls her arms in circles in front of her, slow and intuitive and weirdly aggressive for the accompanying song. When she opens her eyes and finds Viktor, he sees her vision narrow.

“No. No. No.” Viktor says, deadpan, but it's too late; she’s already running at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“When the world turns around, he holds me down for sure!” Jinx sings, pointing at Viktor with her other hand. She runs up to him, holds the screwdriver to his mouth.

“C’mon, V. C’mon. I know you know the words,” Jinx says, nodding.

Viktor shakes his head. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Our love-,” Jinx pauses dramatically, holding out the screwdriver and leaving dead air for Viktor to fill. He hums, embarrassed, but Jinx doesn’t let up.

“Our love-,” Jinx stops again, mouth wide open.

“That flows into any sea.” Viktor grits.

Jinx throws her arms into the air once again, letting out a victorious scream. Jayce steps away from the doorway, presumably to laugh. Viktor contemplates the ethics of taking his crutch and whacking both of them repeatedly.

-

They were drinking. Ever since Viktor decided he’d rather live no life than a painful one, Jayce has grown cautious of any coping mechanism that isn’t ‘talking about feelings’, much to Viktor’s dismay, but what Jayce doesn’t know can’t hurt him. It’s a lie by omission, which, according to anyone from Zaun, is not even a lie. A misnomer, really, Viktor thinks. And he’s barely drinking; whatever Jinx brought is fruity and chemical and sickeningly saccharine. Viktor prefers his liquor more ethanol adjacent, but, again, exceptions.

“I procured Shimmer from Singed-” Viktor starts. They’ve been catching up, laughing hysterically at all the sad bits. Commiserating over the happy parts. It’s nice.

Jinx grimaces, sipping her drink. “That rat bastard.”

“Correct. But, I’m a scientist. I am…” Viktor mindlessly grabs at the air, trying to find the words. “Drawn to experimentation. I used it. I was on a bridge, and I ran. I dropped my crutch and I ran for the first time in my entire life. And the last time.” He smiles. Cringes. “It’s funny, things like that. It gives you everything you’ve ever wanted, but only once. And nothing will ever compare. Then, the… resignation. Accepting a life of chasing something that is unachievable.”

Jinx nods. “Double-edged sword,” she mutters ominously, which is really more funny than it should be, Viktor thinks.

“More or less. Really a single-edged sword. Which is just a sword, I guess.” Viktor clicks his teeth. “Sorry, that got away from me. That’s where you come in, actually. I died, along with Cassandra Kiramman and Irius Bolbok and Torman Hoskel. In the attack.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that, man.” Jinx winces, cartoonish.

“No, you aren’t,” Viktor snorts. “If I were you, I think I would’ve done the same.”

Jinx turns red, twisting in her seat. She hides her face in her crossed elbows, and starts to speak, so unusually quiet she’s unsure if Viktor can even hear her.

“Y’know, I was on a bridge. With my friend back home. Ekko,” Jinx clarifies. Her voice cracks a little at the mention of Ekko, but Viktor doesn’t mention it. He’s nice like that.

“I made the same choice.” Jinx mimics Viktor’s accent. “Resignation.” Viktor rests his head on his desk, smiling.

“Was my impression good?” Jinx asks, gravelly.

“I don't think there’s a single person in Runeterra who speaks like that,” Viktor sighs.

Jinx laughs. “So you hated it.”

Viktor considers his words. “I think… That it would make Jayce very happy.”

Jinx flops to the ground. “Oh my god. That means nothing. Sunlight makes Jayce happy. Sourdough bread. You make Jayce happy.”

Viktor laughs, laughs so loud that he shocks even himself, before shifting his head to rest in the crook of his elbow. Eventually, he starts breathing deeply, which gives Jinx the signal to continue.

“The standard is so low.”

Viktor wheezes. “Be quiet.”

Viktor flops his upper half onto his desk, uncoordinated and clumsy, which has Jinx crawling back onto her chair just to flop on the ground again. Suddenly, there’s motion in the doorway.

“I heard my name?” Jayce asks, polite.

Jinx screams at the top of her lungs, like she’s getting murdered. Viktor flails his arm out in an attempt to hide the alcohol, but instead spills it all over the wood floors. He flops once again onto his desk, hoping that the table will take pity on him and swallow him whole. Jinx scuttles behind her chair. Jayce hides behind the doorway, also hoping it swallows him into the foundation of the house.

“We gotta put a bell on him.” Jinx says.

Viktor snorts. “He would love that.”

-

Later that day, before Jinx returns to her apartment and he’s sobered up significantly, he asks a serious question. Evidently, he’s not sober enough to stop himself from asking a serious question. He will chastise himself for this later. What is this, he’ll ask himself, a funeral?

“Do you regret it? That night on the bridge, I mean,” Viktor asks Jinx.

He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly self conscious and suddenly aware that this is probably the worst time to ask her this, her lingering in the doorway and all. His sudden bouts of vulnerability are shocking to everyone, and especially him.

“It was the best feeling I’ve ever felt in my life,” Jinx states automatically.

Viktor nods. He turns to step away, but Jinx, unexpectedly, continues.

“Yeah,” Jinx breathes, seemingly surprising herself. “Yeah, I do.”

-

Before the first snow fell, (which Jayce could predict with unsettling accuracy; he had a sense for these things), Viktor convinced Jinx to move in. Very professionally, of course, spouting off about apprenticeships and mentors, but Jinx just shrugged.

“If you want,” she mumbled, blowing hair out of her face.

She then thumped Viktor on the back of the head, which led to Viktor thumping her on her forehead, which led to Jayce having to referee their bullshit catfight. Peace in our time.

They have an extra room, separate from the rest of their house. It’s heated, connected directly to their greenhouse and surprisingly lofty. Some may call this building a ‘shed’, and they would be correct. When Viktor gets Jayce to move in her singular (very sad) box of stuff, Viktor finds her laying on the floor of the greenhouse. Her greenhouse.

“Plants in a heated glass box,” Jinx mumbles, poking at a leaf. “That is some Piltie shit, V.”

Viktor gasps like he’s been stabbed. “Innovation is the modus operandi of the undercity!”

“Replicating the natural world is not innovation, bud.”

Jayce appears from behind the doorway, having finished putting Jinx’s box of actual garbage onto her floor. He moves into the room, having upgraded from hovering disguised as lurking to full blown hovering. Something about the winter time.

“He’s the wrong person to say that to.” Jayce says after a second, crossing his arms. Jinx’s eyebrows jump to her hairline before she curls up on the floor, with a very mean guffaw. Jayce looks very pleased with himself, that bastard. Viktor waits until the laughs fizzle out before he tries to defend himself. Jinx (eventually) tires herself out; she lays flat on the floor of the greenhouse, absorbing the heat like a reptile.

“Yes, yes,” Viktor says, sardonic. “Because neither of you have ever been disillusioned with the world.”

“You-” Jinx rises from the floor, pointing,“-created a hivemind of drones! ”

Viktor sighs, exasperated.

“Okay-,” Jayce starts with unearned confidence, “-but we ended it together. He should get some credit for that!”

Viktor sinks into his chair, hiding his face in his hands. “No. No. Stop. No. Oh my god.”

“I’ve, personally, never made a hivemind,” Jinx squeaks, throwing her fists in the air. “Where’s my trophy, mountain man?”

“Well, Jinx, you did launch a rocket at the council.”

“It was more complicated than that,” Viktor interrupts.

Jinx cracks her fingers. “And was I wrong?”

There’s a pause. Viktor carefully considers his options. He eventually lands on, “That is irrelevant, Powder,” which, based on Jayce’s face, is not the right choice.

Jinx points at Jayce with her grimy hands, laughing.

“She killed you!” Jayce exclaims.

Viktor shrugs. “Who hasn’t?”

“Oh my fucking god,” Jayce says, dragging his hand down his face.

Jinx looks scarily excited for no good reason, and it nearly makes Viktor jump out of his skin. He glares at Jinx, surprising her enough to keep her momentarily quiet.

“Don't! You’re going to say something inflammatory, I can feel it! Both of you will apologize and say goodbye,” Viktor states. “Conflict is bad for the plants.”

“I apologize, Jinx. It isn’t helpful or productive to bring up the past, which cannot be changed, especially in a way that is antagonistic.” Jayce says, almost word for word what the town doctor told Jayce to say when he and Viktor fought. Viktor huffs a laugh.

Jinx sighs, mocking. “And I’m sorry, Jayce, for doing terrorism or whatever.”

Viktor points at her. “Jinx.”

Jinx sighs again, even louder, her arms flopping at her sides. “I’m sorry, Jayce, for talking about all the crazy, horrific, bonkers shit the three of us did-”

“Powder!”

Jinx holds up her hands like she’s being arrested. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Jinx chants, bowing her head in faux shame. “Is that good?”

Viktor chews on his bottom lip, considering. “Yeah, that’s fair,” he eventually surrenders. “Adequate.”

Jinx snorts. “‘Adequate,’” she says, with a familiar lilted sound.

“Okay, Jayce, now you- wait, are you mocking me?”

Jinx looks around, like she has no idea who Viktor is talking to. Eventually, she sternly says, “No,” completely straight-faced and completely infuriating to Viktor. His eyebrows hit the ceiling.

“Then what was that?” Viktor interrogates. “Just now?”

“I don't even remember,” Jinx mumbles, casual. “Genuinely. I don't even know what you’re talking about.”

“We are supposed to be a unified front!” Viktor whispers through gritted teeth.

“Against who?” Jayce asks.

There’s silence, excluding Jinx’s attempts to hide her excited laughter.

“Oh my god.” Jayce puts his head in his hands.

“Well,” Viktor hums nervously. “That’s not really what I meant-”

Jayce leans up against the doorframe. “Conspiring against me in my own home.”

Viktor groans. “Ugh, drama queen-”

“-Miss Drama Queen!” Jinx yells, kicking her feet in the air.

Jayce returns his head to his hands. “That is exactly what I’m talking about!”

-

All of the pencils are missing. Not just any pencils, but Jayce’s carpenter pencils. Viktor finds Jayce at his desk in their bedroom, on the verge of cardiac arrest. Conniption. Coronary artery catastrophe.

“How does every single one of my carpenter pencils-,” Jayce starts, Viktor rubbing circles into his should, a meager attempt to soothe, “-which are built specifically so they don't roll into the abyss, disappear into the fucking abyss?”

“I have no idea,” Viktor muses, definitely having an idea.

When Jayce leaves for the forge that day, Viktor walks out to Jinx's shed. He knocks, really more to teach her how to knock, and quietly sits in the chair that Jinx made for him whenever their talks would meander for longer than intended. Rolling his crutch between the palms of his hands and waiting for Jinx to manifest spontaneously, as she is wont to do, Viktor examines Jinx’s shed-turned-lair. Pages from textbooks and academic papers are tacked against every inch of the wall, excluding a small barrier around the bottom where the ever-constant stacks of books live. Then, he finds the pencils, stacked up in a glorious stack, five at a time, right in the corner of the room. Jayce is going to have an aneurysm, he thinks fondly.

There’s a quick flicker of movement in Jinx’s room, then a high pitched yelp.

“Announce your presence, dude! You’re killing me here!” Jinx screams, throwing a paper ball in Viktor’s direction. He catches it, fumbles it, and then catches it again, placing it on the side table next to his chair. There are papers stacked in a pile on the table, and moving them slightly reveals a phantasmagoria of pencil sketches. Viktor notes this, keeps it in his ever updating rolodex of Jinx information. Jinxformation, he thinks, and then forgets, because it’s stupid.

“I’ll start announcing mine when you announce yours and when Jayce announces his,” Viktor says, gently placing the paper ball atop the stack of drawings. “Do you know where Jayce’s carpenter pencils have gone?”

Jinx clicks her teeth. “I gotta be honest, V, I have no idea what that even is.”

“Which is why you’ve constructed a tower of them?” Viktor gestures to the monument of pencils Jinx has accrued over the weeks, built into one massive pillar of pilfering.

“Oh, those!” Jinx points, standing on her toes and grabbing a flat pencil from the top layer. “They’re very handy, y’know.”

“I do. Which is why you must split custody of the pencils with Jayce-”

Jinx puts her head in her hands, leans back, and yells, low and guttural. “We don't have any other pencils, V! And your pens are garbage!”

Viktor’s eyes widen. “You’ve been stealing my pens, too?”

“You can have them back, honestly,” Jinx smirks.

Viktor folds his hands. “There is no reason for you to have sixty carpenter pencils, Jinx.”

“Exileing me to the backyard,” Jinx groans, punctuating the end of each sentence with a corresponding throw of a pencil at Viktor. “Deconstructing my architectural masterpiece. Take my hands, why don't you?”

Jinx flops face first onto her bed, before rolling onto the floor and presenting her wrists for arrest. Viktor leans back in his chair, kicking his leg out and slapping his hand to his forehead like he’s fainted.

“Oh, poor Jinx,” Viktor groans, dragging his slender fingers down his face. “Poor withering soul. Can’t horde every single carpenter pencil.”

Jinx gasps and jumps to her feet, making herself a barrier between Viktor and the tower of pencils. “You’ll have to take my pencils from my cold, dead hands.”

“Well, you are dead on a technicality, Powder,” Viktor says smugly, before clearing his throat. “Jayce?”

Jinx leans over, checking the doorway from her little spot in the corner. When she sees no sign of Jayce, she shakes her head. “He’s not here.”

“Give him a minute.”

“We both saw him leave. There are windows everywhere. I literally do not see him,” Jinx squeaks out of the side of her mouth, gesturing at the door.

“Jayce?” Viktor tries again, a little louder.

“If this works, I’m buying a gun.”

“This will be the one,” Viktor clears his throat. “Jayce Talis!”

A pause, and then-

“Yes?” Jayce asks, appearing from behind the doorway. He is wearing his designated ‘forge clothes’, so he must’ve ran from the forge, or pretended to go to the forge so he could observe Viktor and Jinx. Either way, he is undoubtedly insane.

“What have I told you about hovering?” Viktor scolds through gritted teeth. Before Jayce begins defending himself, Viktor holds out a finger, shushing him.

“Shh. I found your pencils.”

Jayce looks around the room and sees his beloved pencils scattered across the floor, the path of carnage leading directly to Jinx. She stands to her full height, protectively holding the tower with her hands, and that’s when Viktor strikes. He grabs the paper ball on the side table and fucking launches it, hitting the tower right at it’s bottom layers. The paper ball was surprisingly dense. Viktor will have to ask her the exact technique for making such an accurate projectile. Jinx gasps as her monument to thievery falls to the floor, throwing pencils in every direction. Jayce makes the first move, falling onto his good knee and gathering as many pencils as possible into his large hands.

“You fucking rats!” Jinx screams, before sweeping as many pencils as she can reach into a pile with her arm, guarding them with her whole body. Viktor wonders how long it’ll take before she starts biting. It takes seven minutes, he finds out.

-

Jayce gets nervous when the cold settles in. Anxious, fidgety, and sad; a general malaise that is extremely contagious. Their heat doesn’t work the best in the house, one of those things they put off indefinitely, (a funny way of saying that, when they both first arrived here, they were both too scared to even step outside, nevermind long enough to fix anything), and it’s now too cold for Jayce to stand being outside for longer than ten minutes. Viktor makes an executive decision.

“Come here,” Viktor says, beckoning Jayce over with a wave.

Jayce joins Viktor’s side automatically, wrapping his arms around Viktor’s torso. “Hm?”

“You’re joining us in the greenhouse today.”

Jayce rests his hands flat on Viktor’s stomach, fingers grazing over the golden bands that litter his left hand. “She doesn’t like me, V.”

Viktor raises an eyebrow. “Everyone likes you. That was your job for many years, I believe.”

Jayce smiles, half hearted. He acquiesces, eventually, as he is wont to do. Especially after Viktor kisses each individual knuckle of his hand. Viktor pushes him outside, and they move as fast as possible to the heated walls of the shed. Jayce holds the door for Viktor, which earns him a little shove on his shoulder. Viktor knocks performatively on the greenhouse door, before pushing the door open.

“Hi, V.” Jinx says, too engrossed with the project on her desk to look up.

“I’ve brought a guest.”

Jinx drops her plank of wood she’s sketching on with a loud clank, turning around with wide eyes.

“The mountain man!” Jinx yells. “What’s the occasion?”

“The heat in the house is fucked,” Jayce mumbles, which makes Jinx smile. Viktor avoids sitting on his armchair, and instead sinks to the floor, which horrifies Jayce, the head Viktor armchair architect. Viktor murmurs something about productivity and efficiency, which makes Jinx snort a laugh.

“Any plans?” Viktor asks, attempting to glance at her desk from the floor.

Jinx shrugs. “I’m just working on some stuff.”

Viktor clicks his teeth. “Very specific. Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Jayce leans over Jinx’s shoulder, Jayce-ily. She’s sketching, some plans and some plants and some people, detailed and rendered and beautiful.

“Oh, wow,” Jayce mutters. “Oh, wow.”

Jinx groans, planting her palm on Jayce’s face and gently pushing him away. “We don't do that here!”

“Of course,” Jayce sighs, stepping back. “Only sardonic quips are permitted in Jinx and Viktor’s Greenhouse of Science.”

Viktor makes a noise. “I am merely a guest in this Greenhouse of Science,” he muses, chewing on the end of a pencil.

“We own this!” Jayce says.

Jinx waves her hands around. “Does anyone really own anything?”

Jayce pauses, suddenly uncertain of everything he’s ever known.

“... Yes,” he says, really more of a question than an answer.

-

“So,” Jinx starts, turning away from her desk and towards the giant man that now lays on her floor, “You’re an artist.”

Jayce shakes his head. “No.”

Viktor looks up from his books to stare at Jinx knowingly.

“They have copies of your notes,” Jinx smiles, trying her best to not laugh. “In the library.

“Oh my god,” Jayce mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.

Jinx straightens out her back, talks stilted and proper, “The inventor of Hextech, the late, great, Councillor Jayce Talis! Man of progress! Talented charmer! And also this other guy.”

“This random man,” Viktor says, voice high and breathy, like a reed, or a whistle, or a really angry cat.

“What is that?” Jayce asks, removing himself from his self-prescribed elbow-prison. “You’ve never done that voice ever.”

Jinx continues. “Ah, yes, that fucking weirdo.”

“Quite a cult classic, among the romantic types,” Viktor mumbles, ignoring Jayce for the sake of banter.

“Two very close friends,” Jinx mutters.

“Purely scientific portraiture,” Viktor says, pitchy and wispy.

Jinx drops the bit. “No, yeah, that voice is crazy.”

Viktor turns around to face Jinx and Jayce, eyes wide. “Oh, so you can mock me, but when I-”

“Who are you mocking, V?” Jayce interrupts. “We’ve never met anyone that talks like that.”

“It’s like you’re channeling an entity,” Jinx mumbles.

“Can’t a man take some creative liberties without being burned at the stake?” Viktor sighs, throwing his arms up in the air.

“Liberties for what?” Jayce laughs, incredulous. He sits up from his spot on the floor, straightening his legs with a wince before he continues. “You’re making fun of someone that doesn’t exist!”

Jinx raises her palms towards the sky and closes her eyes. “Oh, spirit, if you can hear me, please inform me and Jayce of your nationality.”

“You do a voice. No, do it right now, Jayce,” Viktor says, pointing. “I want to see how phenomenal your voice is.”

“Oh, spirit, please get specific with it,” Jinx hums lowly.

“I’m so sorry, V,” Jayce turns to Jinx, bewildered. “Get specific with what?”

“The nationality of the spirit that’s inhabiting Viktor’s body,” Jinx clarifies. “Oh, spirit-”

Jayce raises his hands towards the sky automatically. “Oh, spirit, where do you originate?”

“Oh, spirit, what’s your deal?” Jinx chants.

“Oh, spirit, why does Viktor sit on the floor when I made him a very nice armchair?” Jayce asks.

“Oh, spirit, what is your name? And why is it Herald?”

Jayce exhales sharply through his nose, that bastard.

Jinx shrugs, very pleased with herself. “So weird, right? What a coincidence.”

Viktor grabs the thinnest book in his pile, rolls it, and begins his rampage, whacking any living creature in his vicinity.

-

Jayce gets Jinx some paint, eventually, after seeing her sketches.

“She’s doing quite well, actually,” Viktor sighs into Jayce’s ear one night. He was moping, as Viktor is prone to do, until Jayce appeared behind him, as Jayce is prone to do, and dropped his head into the gentle curve of Viktor’s neck. “I just want to help her as much as we can.”

“Mhm,” Jayce hums. “You really do help her a lot. Do you know that?”

Viktor takes his crutch and whacks Jayce in the shin. Jayce’s good shin, obviously. He’s not a monster.

Jayce leaves some cans outside her door with little fanfare. It’s just about every color he could find at the market, plus some brushes. A day later, he drops off a box of carpenter pencils, which were greeted by a very loud scream from Jinx, which led to a small yelp of surprise from Viktor, which led to a very loud scream from Jayce; a sort of trauma-domino effect. Traumino Effect, Jayce coins in his head, and then he decides he doesn’t want to be credited for coming up with that, because it’s stupid.

The next morning, during Viktor’s daily check-in with Jinx, which is really more of a ‘Sit and Wait For Jinx to Emerge-in’, Viktor spots some vertigo inducing colors splashed across the front door of the shed, pinks and yellows and blues bright enough to blind an extremely light-eyed person. Or a very sensitive bird. And resting outside, on the exterior wall of Jinx’s shed, is a large plank. Or, more accurately, a mural. It’s Ekko and Violet, hyper-saturated and glowing off of the sepia-toned canvas, and the little one. Isha. Viktor doesn’t have any residual information of Isha’s life, even when everyone was in the clutches of the hexcore, and he doesn’t dare interrogate why. The portraits are stylized and realistic, electric and grounded, beautiful and sad. Very Jinx. And very Powder.

“Don't look! They’re not done!” Jinx screeches, fucking manifesting from somewhere behind Viktor. He jumps, which makes her jump. Viktor wonders if Jayce jumped, somewhere in the forge, for no actual reason. A trauma domino effect of sorts, Viktor thinks. He doesn’t call it a Traumino Effect, though, because he thinks that’s stupid. An adrenaline cascade, he calls it, which he thinks sounds very cerebral.

“Do you wanna see what I’ve done to your walls?” Jinx says, waving her paint covered hands in front of Viktor’s face.

Viktor sighs, dramatic. “Do I?”

Jinx presses her palm to Viktor’s face. The paint decorating her hands is dry, thankfully. A little tacky, but Viktor can’t win everything. He can’t win anything, honestly.

“You have no choice,” Jinx stares, unblinking.

Viktor squints. “You frighten me, really.”

Jinx quietly slinks off into her shed, a smile spreading across her face.

“The silence is not dissuading my fears, Powder.”

Viktor makes sure his crutch goes over the little lip on the edge of the shed door frame, and he carefully steps inside. He does feel like he’s about to die, a little bit. An explosion of blues, purples, pinks, yellows. Abstract and dynamic, a river of color covering every inch of every wall. Jinx stands in the corner, swaying nervously.

“Any thoughts?” Jinx asks. “Comments? Concerns?”

Viktor thinks for a second. “Everything I would like to say cannot be said within the walls of Jinx’s Greenhouse. One moment.”

Viktor steps out of the greenhouse, then out of the shed. He’s a good few paces away when he finally decides to lean on his crutch and say his piece.

“It’s fantastic!” Viktor yells.

Jinx crosses her arms over her face. “Gross.”

“What? I’m following the rules!”

Jinx turns to the wall, placing her hands above her head and sliding down to the floor. “You’ve been infected with Jayce’s optimism. There’s no escape.”

“Eh,” he hums. “Me and all of Piltover. Jayce?”

There’s a hum from somewhere behind him, and then there’s a Jayce behind him, warmth violently contrasted with the frigid air. Viktor jumps, which makes Jinx jump, which makes Jayce jump.

“Hovering!” Viktor whispers through gritted teeth.

“That was crazy,” Jinx laughs. “It was like a cortisol chain reaction.”

Jayce and Viktor look at each other.

“Huh. Yes.”

Jayce nods. “Yeah, it was.”

The portraits catch Jayce’s eye, and he stands in front of them for a good minute, making Jinx cringe. Viktor drags Jayce away, a small attempt at mercy, and nudges Jayce into the shed. Jayce’s hands reach up to resort to their place behind his head as he steps into the circus they call a shed. Viktor’s hands meet Jayce’s at the nape of his neck, as Viktor is absently worried that this will be what makes Jayce finally drop dead.

“This is…” Jayce pauses, torturous. “Amazing.” He finishes, a little flabbergasted.

“You know the rules!” Jinx squawks, before rolling herself up in her bedsheets.

Jayce shuffles out of the shed, a little unsteady. The cold isn’t kind to Viktor or Jayce, but they brave it for comedic effect. Or if Jinx needs something. Exceptions. Jayce makes sure he’s a good distance away before he plants his unbraced leg on the icy ground.

“That is amazing!” Jayce shouts, his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify his voice.

Jinx falls to the floor, taking a can of yellow paint and half of her bed with her.

-

Jinx twists the wrench, with a technique so innovative Viktor could not describe it if he tried. The heat of the greenhouse is their only reprieve from the fucking cold, and building shit is their only reprieve from all of the nothing. It’s busy work, really: air filters, water pumps, tools that look fucking cool, thanks to Jinx. The snow outside of their heated oasis gives the illusion of a pocket dimension, a refuge for all the people whose teeth burn when it gets too windy. Viktor tweaks and tweaks his motor, analytical and delicate.

“I don't understand. The wiring is perfect.” Viktor groans, laying flat on his back. Jinx follows him automatically, absently bonking her head on a plant.

“Well,” Jinx says, sticking her finger in the static gears of his water pump. Poor lab etiquette, sure, but Viktor has always supported exceptional methods. “It's ‘cause the rear axle is too short, compared to the arms.”

Viktor pauses. “It is?”

Jinx takes the motor, her thumbs orbiting the faulty wheel. “Yeah! See, when it turns, it does this, when you really want it to do that.”

“But then-”

“Then it seems like it would cause a partial slip differential, right? But look at him, faster than ever. Because of-”

“The hydrodynamic friction.” Viktor states, smiling.

“-the hydrodynamic friction.” Jinx finishes.

-

“Eh,” Viktor mumbles, nursing his drink. It’s that pink-fruity shit again, against Jayce’s advice, (that hangover was horrific, according to Jayce. Viktor has no memory of it). It’s the darkest time of year; he’ll grant himself some syrupy self-pity. “I don't think the arcane is anything any one person can understand.” He continues.

“Isn’t that, like, the worst, though?” Jinx asks, swirling the liquor around in her glass. There is no sunlight breaking through the windows of the greenhouse, only artificial, dry heat.

Viktor laughs, bitter. “You have no idea. I’m a scientist.”

-

“Jinx?” Viktor calls. Usually she’s up before he is, running about and kickstarting chaos, doing something that will have Jayce profusely apologizing to the neighbors, but today it’s eerily quiet. The snow has settled across their yard. Today, Jayce also stays in bed. Viktor pets his hair, promising to leave only for a few minutes to check on the loose cannon sitting idle in their backyard. He opens her door after no response, and he finds a lump underneath a mountain of blankets, only identifiable by the two blue braids that rest on her patchwork pillow.

“Oh.” Viktor says, stupidly.

“Ah, jeez, man,” Jinx says, a low, monotone groan from somewhere within the mountain of sheets. “You know the rules. Check the sympathy at the door, please.”

“Along with my consideration and my carpenter pencils.”

“Ha.”

Viktor moves his designated Jinx chair to her bedside. She’s somewhere underneath those covers, probably twisted into a position that hasn’t been discovered yet. He cracks his knuckles. Looks out the window. Wishes he wasn’t so bad at this.

“Is she there? Violet? Or is it the boys?” Viktor asks, carefully.

Jinx makes a noise. “Neither. Just a weird day, I think. It’s fine,” Jinx adds, voice cracking. Viktor nods, even though he knows she can’t see, and he doesn’t acknowledge it. He’s nice like that. Jinx hates it, sometimes. He breathes deeply, like how Jayce, on better days, reminds him to do. It’s warm. The air is dry and sharp.

“I’m not good at this kind of thing,” Viktor warns.

“Oh, really?” Jinx says, bitter.

“But,” Viktor whispers. “I do understand.”

And that, Viktor thinks, is all anyone can really offer.

-

Jinx jams the screw into the pilot hole, making Viktor wince.

“Just screw it in,” Viktor sighs, “I’m begging.”

Jinx ignores him, as she is wont to do, and hits the screw with the end of her screwdriver. “You just gotta, y’know,” Jinx mumbles. “Finagle it.”

Viktor pauses. “Right. Finagle it.”

-

“No, it’s this gear,” Jayce explains, in a tone that suggests it’s not really up for discussion.

“The gear is fine!” Jinx shouts. “It’s literally the lever right here!”

Jayce drags his hand down his face. “No, it’s not!”

Viktor breathes deeply, which silences the room. “Let me see.”

Jayce shifts from his prone position on the floor to hand Viktor Jinx and Jayce’s collaborative creation, a machine aptly named ‘The Contraption.’

“Thank you, impartial judge,” Jayce says, very clearly implying that he thinks the judge is partial to one Jayce Talis.

Viktor examines The Contraption, looking at every groove of every gear and every cable attached to every lever, before finally speaking. He snaps his fingers, then points in Jinx’s direction.

“Jinx is right,” Viktor muses.

“Ha!” Jinx squawks.

“And-” Viktor points to Jayce. “So are you.”

Jayce flicks Jinx on the forehead.

“And-,” Viktor adds.

“And?” Jinx honks.

“The wiring is fucked.”

“What?” Jayce asks, like he’s been personally attacked.

“Ding ding ding. Points for everybody.” Jinx says, thumping Jayce on his forehead.

“All of these brains and you can’t figure out how to solder a wire?” Viktor asks, gesturing to a specific cluster of cables that fell below his standards. “Jinx, I can excuse, but you, Jayce-”

Jinx recoils like she’s been shot. “‘Jinx, I can excuse?’”

“You’re self taught! Jayce spent more time in a lab than not-”

“Give that back,” Jinx says through gritted teeth, snatching back The Contraption. “Jinx, I can excuse,” she lilts, mocking Viktor’s accent, “I’m gonna set you on fire. Oh, yeah, look at that.”

Jinx points to an overlapping section of wires, a section that went completely missed due to another tangle of wires settled atop it. She shoves Jayce. “That’s all you, man.”

Jayce nudges her. “No, that was you!”

“No, yeah, it was,” Jinx laughs. “I just wanted to see how long you would go along with it.” She turns her head to Viktor. “He only listens to you, V. It’s crazy.”

-

Jayce kicks the door closed, holding two brown paper boxes. “I come bearing gifts!”

There’s silence, until Jinx unfurls from the loveseat, eating a fruit that Jayce has never fucking seen before in his whole life. “Why?”

Jayce pauses, before he repeats the question, incredulous. “Why?”

Jinx slides onto the floor, crawls over to Jayce, and eerily stands up. Jayce gestures with a box, which Jinx takes, suspicious.

“I can’t let a Piltie kill me, man,” she mutters as she inspects every corner of the box, sliding her mechanical finger underneath all the folded flaps.

“He’s not going to kill you,” Viktor reassures, summoned by the aura of general anxiety permeating from their front door. He slides underneath Jayce’s arm quietly. “Or anyone. Generally.”

Jinx smirks. “Pilties.”

“No. Just Jayce,” Viktor whispers. Jayce hands Viktor his mysterious box.

“I didn’t get you anything,” Viktor whispers, confused.

“I didn’t ask you to,” Jayce hums.

“But I didn’t ask you to get this for me either. Do you see the hypocrisy?”

Jayce sets his hand on Viktor’s shoulder, jostling him around. “Fucking accept the gift. Please.”

Viktor says nothing, just opens the top flap of the box with a cautious hand.

“See, Viktor is nervy,” Jinx points out unhelpfully. “Now I’m nervy.”

Viktor makes a high-pitched noise, which roughly translates to: “Who, me? Nervous? Never!” Viktor looks in the box and finds… Eye protection. Welding goggles. Viktor’s eyes snap back up to Jayce, surprised. Jinx peeks in Viktor’s box, and, seeing what’s inside, rips open her own. Her goggles are silver, to contrast Viktor’s gold.

“Goggles,” Jinx laughs. “Fuckin’ rad.” She shoves Viktor, something that would’ve sent him flying if he wasn’t currently anchored by Jayce. “We can finally make that thing we’ve been talking about.”

Viktor laughs, manic.

-

Jinx is blasting the worst song Jayce has ever heard when he checks on her. The cold has found its way into Viktor's bones, and Jayce has never been able to say no to him, no matter how nervous he is about having to interact with Jinx without a Viktor-shaped buffer. Jinx has made friends with one of Viktor’s students, a strange little guy who works at the local record store, and he gifts her the most obnoxious noise music found on Runeterra. Viktor likes it, even though it’s just screaming and cymbals and the eternally surprising xylophone of all things.

“It fills the space,” he says, which makes Jayce scoff. Jayce asks if it’s a Zaun thing, this incomprehensible love for a genre of what he can barely describe as music, and Jinx says that it’s a ‘cool’ thing. He walked right into that one, honestly.

“Hey, Jinx?” Jayce asks, timidly leaning on the doorway.

“That’s me!” Jinx yells, removing her newly painted goggles from her eyes. When she turns around in her seat and finds Jayce instead of Viktor, her face falls, and she asks, “Where’s V?”

Jayce’s hands find their home at the back of his neck, scratching. “He’s not doing great today.”

Technically true. Everyone in this house has a gift of saying things that are technically true, he thinks.

Jinx snorts, returning her gaze to her work. “Real.”

“What are you doing?” Jayce asks, almost involuntary. As he Jayce-ily walking towards Jinx’s desk, she throws herself on top of it, obscuring the project from Jayce’s view.

“You can’t look. Oh my God. Viktor will be so mad if you look. He’ll pass out and die.”

Jayce pauses. Makes a face.

Jinx slowly recedes back into her chair, still protecting the project with her arms. “Okay, you can look, but only for, like, one second. Literally one second. Viktor is gonna fucking shank me.”

“I don't think Viktor has ever shanked anyone.”

Jinx points at him. “As far as you know. He gives that vibe.”

“Does he?” Jayce asks, suddenly reviewing every interaction he’s ever had with Viktor.

“Yeah! I mean, it’s not like he can fight,” Jinx explains. Jayce already agrees, honestly, but she keeps going. “Pushed on the playground, boom, knifed! Lunch money gets stolen, whablam, knifed! ‘Oh, Viktor, you’re such a nerd loser! You’re gonna go read a book? You’re gonna go read a book about it?’ Pow! Stabbed! Who’s the nerd now? Not me, bitch.”

“I’m convinced,” Jayce affirms, throwing his hands up. Jinx nods, smiling. “Can I see what you’re working on now?”

“Aw, man,” Jinx groans, face falling again. “I thought I was doing so good at misdirection.”

“You were doing well! We’ll have to ask Viktor if he stabbed his classmates in Zaun.”

“What, no stabbing happens in those Piltie private schools?” Jinx scoffs.

Jayce pauses, reviewing every single incident of violence that happened over his entire educational career.

“...No,” he eventually mumbles. “Well, except for that one time- You’re doing it again!”

Jinx opens her mouth to protest, but Jayce steps up to the desk. He holds his hands behind his back, and stares blankly when he finds a copy of his own leg brace, but shiny and new and bronze and red.

“Oh,” Jayce says, suddenly out of breath. “Huh.”

Jinx hastily covers up the brace with blueprints. “You hate it.”

“I never said that!” Jayce says, uncovering the leg brace, despite Jinx’s best efforts. “It’s just… It’s red.”

“Yeah. That’s what Viktor said your house thing is. Gold and red,” Jinx explains, finding a blueprint with Viktor’s notes messily scrawled over it. She points to a note that just says ‘RED’ in barely legible print. One word. Very ergonomic, Jayce thinks.

“I don't have any gold, though,” Jinx continues. “Obviously. I live in a shed.”

Jayce nods. “Thank you,” he says, too earnest for Jinx’s liking. “But I’m confused.”

“Why? Did I fuck up somewhere?” Jinx picks up the middle section of the brace. “It’s the knee supports, huh.”

“No, it’s just-” Jayce stammers, fidgeting. “You don't even like me!”

“Huh?” Jinx honks. Then, to Jayce’s surprise, she starts laughing.

“You don't even like me!” Jinx says, pointing. Jayce looks at her, confused.

“Jinx, you live in my shed,” he sighs, incredulous. “I must like you enough to have you live in my shed.”

Jinx gestures to her desk, wry. “And I am making you a new leg brace. I must like you enough to make you a new leg brace.”

Well. At least that’s settled, Jayce thinks. His hands run down his face. “You thought I didn’t like you this whole time?”

“Does this ring a bell?” Jinx starts, before raising her shoulders to her ears and running her hand up and down her face. “Oh, Jinx, what are you doing?”

Jayce’s hands return to his sides, self conscious. “That is not what I sound like.”

“Oh, Jinx, my pencils. Please, Jinx, consider the neighbors!” Jinx wails, mock-clawing at her skin.

“I do think you should consider the neighbors! And I got you your own pencils!” Jayce points out. “I’m just looking out for you. Us.” He pauses. Looks away. “I’m just being careful. We’re on borrowed time here.”

Jinx wobbles her head around, like she’s swirling Jayce’s answer around in her head. “Us,” she repeats. “Huh. Okay. Weird. You’re a weird one, mountain man.”

Jayce nods, satisfied with that answer. He presumes that being seen as weird, by Jinx of all people, is the equivalent to being super normal and incredibly unexceptional.

“The knee supports are off,” he adds. “By the way.”

Jinx throws the brace to the desk. It bounces, surprisingly, an ode to Jinx’s resilient construction. “I fucking knew it.”

They weren’t off. Jayce just thought it would make Viktor laugh when he told him about it later that day, and it did. Jinx barges into their room later, though, yelling about psychological warfare, which makes Viktor laugh even harder.

-

Jayce wakes up screaming, and then falls completely silent. Just clings to Viktor, eyes closed and breathing heavy. Viktor removes himself from Jayce’s grasp, after a few minutes of whispered reassurances and a promise to return swiftly. Viktor arrives at Jinx’s front door, opening it without a knock.

“Bad manners,” Jinx groans. She’s sitting atop her newest addition to her bedroom, a bookshelf, writing notes on a notebook page.

Viktor skips the banter, reluctantly. “Could you talk to Jayce, perhaps?”

Jinx pauses. “Why?”

Viktor gives her a look, one that loosely translates to: My partner is seeing shit that I cannot, Jinx.

“Oh. Oh. Okay,” Jinx gives a thumbs up. “Got it. Message received.” She scratches at her scalp, eyes darting across the room. “But what would I even do?”

“I don't know, Powder, that’s why I’m asking you to speak to him.”

Jinx laughs, nervous. “If you’re assuming that I’m better at this shit than you are, then I’ve got some tough news to break, V-”

“No, it’s just,” Viktor pauses, trying to find the words. “I never dealt with that before I touched the arcane. I do not have it now. You do. You understand better than I can, right now, at this moment.”

Jinx looks at him, unconvinced. “C’mon, V. He’s your guy!”

“Exactly,” Viktor nods, frustrated. “Which is why I know I can’t help with this.”

“What is this?” Jinx asks the world, before returning her focus to Viktor. “You’re coming with me or I’m not going.”

“I’m sitting outside the door,” he acquiesces, almost immediately. Jinx wonders if the quick surrender is a monument to her infallible stubbornness or to Viktor’s growing softness. She realizes, once she’s finally retired to her shed for the night, that it’s actually Jayce’s uncanny ability to negotiate and compromise infecting everything he touches.

Jinx opens the door. Once she remembers to knock, she mutters a quick apology, shuts the door, knocks, and then opens the door. Viktor sighs from the hallway. Jinx searches her pockets for something to throw at him. When she comes up empty, she steps into the bedroom.

“Howdy,” Jinx says, swaying back and forth.

Jayce takes a second to process the greeting before replying. “Howdy.”

“You’re just gonna let me say ‘howdy?’” Jinx asks, rolling onto the foot of the bed.

“I don't want to limit your creative expression.”

Jinx throws a pillow at him. “Oh, shut up. Gross.” It’s silent.

“Who’s, uh,” Jinx starts, looking around the room with feigned nonchalance, “Who’s there?”

Jayce takes a second to process the, frankly, unreasonably ominous question. “The drones, mostly. My mother. Mel. Mel Medarda, she’s-”

Jinx waves her hands around. “Oh, believe me, Viktor told me all about Miss Medarda.”

“Oh no,” Jayce mutters, tired.

“He was very nice!” Jinx clarifies. “She seems like she’s… got a big house.”

Jayce stutters, yet again met with a statement that is technically correct but completely unrelated to everything that came before. He wonders if there’s an innuendo he’s missing. “Yeah, I mean. She does.”

Jinx throws her arms in the air and claps. “My intuition. Stellar. Crystal clear.”

“Which is why Viktor sent you here?”

Jinx makes a creaking noise, pulls her knees up to her chest. “‘Sent’ is a strong word. He’s, like, right there.” She points to a space outside of the doorway, and Jayce sits up to find Viktor shadowed in the hallway, glaring.

“Hovering!” Jayce says, pointing. “He’s hovering!”

Jinx cheers, always on board with some Viktor bullying. ““Ha! We got him!”

“That is so not funny,” Viktor states.

“At least Jayce is brave enough to join us,” Jinx says, sing-songy.

“Yeah!” Jayce enthusiastically agrees, enjoying the very rare occasion of Jinx Being On His Side For Once. “At least Jayce is brave enough to join us!”

“Negging. What an advanced technique,” Viktor mutters, shifting on his crutch and walking into the room immediately.

“I didn’t expect that to work so well.” Jinx shrugs.

Viktor sits on his side of the bed, resting his crutch against the nightstand. “There. Am I helping?”

“Yes,” Jayce answers automatically, confused as to why the answer would be anything else. Viktor grimaces, unconvinced. After a few minutes of blabbering from Jinx, with occasional comments from Viktor that make Jayce huff a laugh, Jinx asks.

“Are they still there?” Jinx asks, uncharacteristically quiet.

Jayce looks at the ceiling. “A bit. It’s better when there’s people. Real people.”

“I don't know if we qualify,” Jinx drawls.

Viktor lightly shoves her shoulder. She gears up to hit him just so he flinches.

“You two are my only options,” Jayce groans, dragging his hands down his face. “None of us have any other friends.”

Jinx ignores the fact that, in actuality, with Viktor’s coworkers and her little clique of Viktor’s students and pretentious musicians she’s adopted, Jayce is the only one without any other friends. Very nice of her. Viktor would be so pleased.

“See, V? We help!”

“Yeah!” Jayce whispers.

“Yeah.” Viktor states, monotone.

Jinx grabs another pillow, wraps around it like a boa constrictor. “Viktor, I can’t tell if he’s lying to make us feel good, or if it really just takes asking a question for him to answer honestly.”

“Eh,” Viktor hums, smiling. “I don't think he can tell either.”

-

Jayce awakes to an explosion that immediately brings him back to Piltover, and an empty bed. He is trying to train himself out of immediately assuming the word is ending, but Viktor’s unexplained disappearance is definitely screaming ‘catastrophe’. He jumps out of bed, forgoing a jacket and his brace. Once he staggers into the main room, he finds their back windows shattered from the outside. He feels like he’s dying, a little. He steps outside, bare feet on the freezing cold fucking grass that he hates.

“V?” Jayce asks the wind. He hears music, heavy bass thumping from somewhere in the greenhouse, and a then strange, artificial silence. Like someone trying to be quiet. Jinx has plastered the glass walls of the greenhouse with pages and blueprints, obscuring Jayce’s view. There’s a crash, and then some blurry movement and fumbling, before Viktor- Viktor, thank Janna- hastily utters a strangled, “Uh huh?”

Jayce holds his hands behind his back, fighting every urge to kick down Jinx’s door. “Uh. Can you explain why three of our back windows just broke?”

“Eh…” Viktor hums. Jayce can practically hear Viktor biting his nails. “No.”

“No?”

“What are you implying?” Viktor sputters, furiously opening and shutting what sounds like a drawer. “I don't appreciate the accusations, Jayce. There is no evidence to support that I had anything to do with it!”

“Oh, yeah? Where’s Jinx, then?”

Viktor pauses. There’s two voices, suddenly, harshly whispering expletives at each other, until Viktor pipes up again, his voice an octave higher than usual. “She’s sleeping.”

Jayce pauses, considering Viktor’s story. “So you let yourself into her greenhouse while she was sleeping?”

“... No.” Viktor says, really more of a question than anything.

“We stole a dog,” Jinx shouts, and is met immediately with some kind of shove from Viktor. Jayce hears an exasperated ‘what,’ and then some more whispered bickering, until there’s a loud clank and some ineffectively silenced laughter. Jayce finally gets the courage to walk up to the shed door, relaxed and grateful that no one is dead. As far as he can tell.

“So if I open this door, I will not find any explosives, and I will instead find you two harboring a stolen dog, correct?”

Jinx audibly shrugs. “I guess.”

“You are the one that said- I’m opening the door.”

Jayce opens the door to find Viktor sweeping scraps of metal off of Jinx’s desk with a large crash, before resting his head on his hand like he never moved in the first place. Jinx splays her body across the floor, obviously covering up blueprints of some kind, before folding her arms underneath her head and crossing her ankles.

“What’s crackin’, man?” Jinx says, very normal and casual.

“Hello, Jayce,” Viktor says, also very normal and casual.

“Are those fireworks?” Jayce asks, cocking his head towards the mountain of fireworks.

“Eh,” Viktor hums, turning red. “In a sense.”

Jayce examines the room, completely unprepared to unpack that statement. In a sense. What is that, a riddle? Jayce finds no mortal wounds on anyone, fortunately. Still, he asks.

“Should I be worried?”

Jinx shakes her head. Viktor tilts his head, uncertain, but then shakes his head when he sees Jinx.

“May I ask why you’re setting off fireworks in the middle of the night?” Jayce sighs.

“...Research.” Viktor answers, chewing on his cheek.

“Research,” Jinx nods.

“Experimentation,” Viktor continues.

“Experimentation,” Jinx mimics, rolling the ‘r’. Viktor says nothing. Weird.

“Would you like to join us?” Viktor asks, shifting his weight and revealing a menagerie of vials behind him.

“...Yeah,” Jayce sighs, unfortunately very endeared.

Jayce moves to join Jinx on the floor. As he does, a little ball of fur comes rushing out from behind Viktor’s legs. It rushes towards Jayce, breathes heavily for a second, and then rushes back to Viktor. Jayce can do nothing but stare at Jinx with wide eyes. Viktor is sure this will be what kills Jayce. If the arcane can’t do it, he thinks, this definitely will.

“That wasn’t me,” Jinx enunciates carefully. “ For once, it wasn’t me. I swear everything that matters, I swear on Zaun, I swear on my entire family, that your fucking partner stole the dog.”

Jayce shifts his gaze to Viktor, now more confused than anything.

“Are you guys experimenting on the dog?”

“No, what?” Jinx yells.

“No, Jayce!” Viktor groans, offended.

“You experimented on yourself, V! I don't know!” Jayce shouts, throwing his hands in the air.

“The dog just happens to be here.” Viktor says, calmly.

Jayce drags a hand down his face. “What do you mean?”

Viktor shrugs. Just a normal day in Jinx and Viktor’s Greenhouse of Science, apparently. Jayce sinks to the floor, extending his bad leg with a loud crack. The dog jumps on Jayce, little paws resting on his forearm for a second before he runs around again, huffing and puffing.

“How long ago did you get this dog?” Jayce asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Stole this dog,” Jinx corrects.

“Found this dog. It’s been…” Viktor hums, which summons the dog to his lap. “A few hours.”

“A day,” Jinx corrects.

Jayce switches his gaze back to Jinx. “Did you help him steal the dog?”

She raises up her hands, a plea of innocence. “I watched him steal the dog.”

“I didn’t steal any dogs!” Viktor whispers aggressively, a protective hand on top of the dog’s floppy ears. “Jinx is instigating.”

“Then how did we acquire this dog?” Jayce folds his hands. “Explain.”

“Viktor lured the dog to him. Whispered sweet nothings in its ear until it decided to leave its old life behind,” Jinx mumbles, every word progressively raising Jayce’s blood pressure.

“Her name is Miss Rio, and she would appreciate it if you would refer to her as such,” Viktor says, more confidently than he’s ever said anything in his entire life.

Jayce sighs. “So you stole a dog-”

“Miss Rio. And that is barely theft. She made the choice to abandon everything she once knew. She’s a free spirit.”

Jayce nods, despite not even coming close to any sort of understanding. “So you steal Miss Rio, and then you chemically engineer some fireworks with Jinx and Miss Rio,” he states methodically, tired.

Viktor makes a creaking noise. “If we’re being reductive, then, yes, that is what happened.”

“Why are you making explosives around a dog we-,” Jayce pauses as Viktor shushes him, gesturing towards the dog’s ears. Jayce resorts to aggressively whispering, “-we don't own!”

Viktor shrugs. “She likes it.”

-

“Okay, but how?” Viktor asks. The details of Jinx’s escape have been fuzzy, as are his own, but he is a scientist, first and foremost.

“Hitched a ride on a zeppelin,” Jinx says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“That can’t have been it. You’re a wanted criminal. The most wanted, arguably.”

Jinx raises an eyebrow. “Well, you left pretty easy, and you’re probably more wanted than me right now.”

“Eh,” Viktor mumbles, waving his hands around. “I didn’t really decide to leave. It just happened. I was at peace with dying.”

“Aren’t we all,” Jinx laughs, really not a question at all.

Viktor gestures vaguely to everything, the pillowy grass they’re laying on, the scratched record they’ve been enduring, the ants that have been eating them alive. “Eh. We’re here. So obviously not.”

Jinx scans the sky. “Are you ever gonna… go back?”

Viktor breathes deeply. “Jayce has been writing Caitlyn. His mother. Mel Medarda, too, though she’s returned to Noxus. He even sent something to your friend.”

Jinx sits up a little bit. “Ekko?”

“Mhm. All scientific, don't worry,” Viktor clarifies. “A prodigious mind, he is. Extraordinary.”

Jinx laughs, humorless. “I know.”

Viktor pauses, thinking. “So are you.”

“Blergh.”

Viktor groans. “We are not in the greenhouse! I can say what I like.”

“And I can say what I like.”

Jinx can practically hear his eyebrows hit the stratosphere. Viktor stutters, for a second. “And your official, uncensored statement is ‘Blergh’?”

“Yeah!” Jinx nods. “It gets the job done. Blergh.”

Viktor considers this. “Blergh.” Jinx sticks her tongue out, before rising from her position on the ground to switch to the other side of the record.

“Caitlyn knows,” Viktor states, now that she’s not in his immediate eyesight. “That you escaped. We didn’t tell her,” Viktor prefaces, nervous. “She figured it out.”

Jinx shifts on her feet. “Does Vi know?”

“Not at the moment,” Viktor shrugs. “Caitlyn doesn’t know that you’re here, and she doesn’t want to give Violet any false hope.”

“Caitlyn let me get away,” Jinx huffs, returning to laying on her back. “Why?”

Viktor makes a noise. “The same reason why we are listening to old records, even though your rocket shattered my spine. The same reason why, even though I attempted to eradicate humanity, we lay on the floor with Miss Rio, reminiscing and commiserating and waiting for Jayce to return from his day in the town.”

“You’re waiting for Jayce,” Jinx says, pointing.

“You’re waiting for Jayce,” Viktor corrects. “He provides conflict for you! No, Jinx, don't touch that! Return those books to the library, Jinx! Viktor doesn’t want us fighting in front of the plants, Jinx!” Viktor whispers, running his hand down his face Jayce-ily.

Jinx cackles. “True. It’s good he’s out with that lady, though.”

“I just hope she doesn’t get the wrong idea,” Viktor mutters.

“Do you even know what he sounds like when he’s in town? When we were getting paint, it was all, ‘My partner-”

Viktor gasps. “Be nice. Jayce is very kind to both of us.”

“Oh, my partner, V, his name is Viktor but I call him V, y’know, ‘cause he’s my partner, he had the most brilliant extravagant never-before-seen idea about this very concept. He’s just so insightful and generous like that,” Jinx whispers, hands running up and down her face.

“I hate this,” Viktor laughs, hiding behind his hands. “I could’ve lived my entire life not knowing this.”

The birds are out again, filling the silence.

“Would you hate me if I ever went back?” Jinx asks, very casual and super normal.

“No,” Viktor replies, automatic. “We will all return, eventually, I think. You have people who miss you, as does Jayce. We just need some time.”

“How is Vi? And Ekko?” Jinx shrugs, wiping at her face. Viktor notices, of course, he always does, and he doesn’t mention it, just attempts to tread carefully. “Violet is living with Caitlyn. She’s taking some time to recuperate as well.”

Jinx honks involuntarily. “That’s what Kiramman money buys ya. Time and recuperation.”

Viktor hums, affirmative, before continuing. “Sevika now has the Kiramman seat on the council, actually, with the full financial support of the House of Kiramman. I was told she was one of your associates.”

“Oh shit. That’s my girl.”

“Ekko’s back with the remaining Firelights, keeping up the compound.” Viktor pauses. “You’ve been, right?”

Jinx squeaks. “Just one time. Before the war. Literally hours before the war,” she clarifies.

“You saw the tree, yes?”

“Mhm.” Jinx looks at Viktor, nudges his shoulder. “It's just as cool as you think.”

“Funny,” Viktor smiles, picking at his nails. “I spent all that time attempting to do what Ekko had already achieved.”

“The Boy Savior,” Jinx mutters, like it’s an answer. Viktor makes a noise, something that falls between a creaking staircase and a very displeased rodent, and breathes deeply. The air is clean.

“He would kill to talk to you,” Jinx blurts out, immediately regretting it. She chews on her lip. Stares at the sun.

“He threw a time loop at me, Powder,” Viktor mutters, incredulous and, somehow, fond.

“Well, yeah. But I’ve thrown a lot of things at a lot of people. I throw stuff at you all the time,” Jinx says, like it’s at all equivalent. “Besides, I think we’ve all… ‘Had it out’,” she lilts, mocking.

“One day, I will know peace,” Viktor sighs.

“One day, I will know peace,” Jinx repeats, losing half of the consonants in her shoddy impression.

“I throw stuff at you all the time,” Viktor drawls, squeaky and rough with a harsh, rhotic ‘r’.

Jinx gasps. “That’s what I sound like?”

“That’s what I sound like?”

Jinx screams, pushing at Viktor until he rolls out of her reach.