Her Gun to His Head || Jinx x Garou

Please…

She shouted at them, screamed, begging them to turn around…

Knew they could hear her — she knew they could…

They were ignoring her cries…

Stop…

They'd begun to walk away…

She couldn't follow — she was falling…

Drowning, in dirt, in rainwater…

It was dark…

She was alone…

All alone…

"Blue…"

'Shut up— you're not really there… neither was Vi… I know it's not real…'

…

"—Hey, Blue," he repeated.

She felt his hand on her shoulder, rocking her back and forth.

Her eyes shot open, her heart still thudding out of her chest.

Garou sat across from her, observing.

She'd curled herself up into a ball, it seemed.

"Think it's still night out, but…" he began, gently, "you were tossin' around a bit…"

"Oh…" Jinx spoke shakily. "It's, uh… it's fine, I'm okay…"

She unfurled herself, trying her best to breathe normally.

"…Should let your lungs fill up all the way before you breathe out," he suggested. "Makes you feel calmer… somethin' they used'ta teach us, anyway…"

She was finding it difficult to focus on his voice, but she tried out what he'd said.

"…Yeah, always thought about it like I was doin' muscle trainin' with my lungs," he explained, "like, each time you fill 'em all the way is like doin' a push-up."

She looked at him as she practiced, hoping he'd continue talking.

"There you go… well, they'll be nice and strong for next time, at least," he said.

It might have been working. Maybe it was just having him here…

"…Used to get those kinds'a dreams, too," he suddenly said, in a softer voice. "Ones that feel like they're suffocatin' you…"

She managed to sit up a bit.

"So… how…?" she asked. "How'd you make 'em go away…?"

He quietly sighed.

"I, uh… burned it all down, I guess…" he replied. "Fought everybody that taunted me, 'til they couldn't lift a so much as a finger…"

She turned away a little. She wished she could solve her problems by blowing them all up, or something…

She heard Isha's light snoring, laying in her bed across from them. She sorta hoped the kid'd make for a good snuggle buddy someday.

She turned back to Garou.

"So… everybody over there sucked," she said, "that's why you came to Piltover?"

He shrugged, looking past her. "I was done playin' the apprentice…"

She thought for a moment, laying herself back down on her side.

"Is… that why you don't wanna join us…?" she wondered.

He looked at her, seeming a little taken off guard. He took his time before answering.

"This, uh… this thing you guys got…" he began, "y'know… you, your old man, that lady… it don't look like just some job, or whatever — it's more like you's have yourselves some sorta little… I don't know…"

She found herself hanging on his every word.

"My, uh… my family, they ain't here anymore…" he went on. "And, the losers who tried to replace 'em I left with their faces in the dirt, an ocean away… guess I'm just… I'm not sure I'm supposed'ta have one… I mean, I know that ain't exactly what you're offerin', but…"

He sure did surprise her sometimes…

"I… um…" She could hardly prevent her eyes from welling up a little, as she spoke. "I sorta messed things up, with my family before this one, I guess… I didn't… well, I didn't really think that I'd ever deserve another chance at all that, but…"

Part of her could hardly believe she was managing to talk about any of this without breaking down…

"I'm just… not really sure I could imagine how I'd have gone on if he hadn't been there to…" she continued, gritting through each word, "I don't know, I don't think I could ever be alone like that…"

He was silent for a moment.

"…That what your dreams are about?" he quietly asked.

Her eyes welled up again, while she attempted to blink it away.

"Most of the time…" she responded.

"Hm…" He paused again. "You know… since I'm here, I could—"

She found his eyes, hoping it'd prevent him from bailing on what he was about to say.

"I, uh…" he said, "I don't know, I could be your catcher, or somethin' — shake you out of it if you're havin' one of them dreams…"

She hastily wiped away some lingering tears from her eyes.

"Sweet of ya…" she managed to giggle. "Don't much care for how you're tryin'ta say that Sevika and I are family," she joked, "but, uh… I… I wouldn't mind that, if you wanted to… I don't know, live here with me, for a bit…"

She saw him smile, just a little, under the dim, purple light.

~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~

"—So, it's ready, then…?" Silco confirmed.

"It should provide a longer-lasting effect, yes," replied Singed. "I've synthesized enough for a week, at least…"

"Mm," he responded. "And what more do you require exactly, in order to produce the amount we'll need?"

"I'm far less concerned with capacity, than with security," Singed explained. "Having this formula fall into the hands of the common folk may be less than wise—"

Silco's attention was momentarily captured by the presence of another person in the room with them. Singed wasn't typically the type to entertain guests…

"—Very well." Silco cut in. "I'll see it taken care of."

The stranger sat by in the corner of the lab, hair disheveled, despair written upon his face. He looked to be a younger man…

Singed seemed to notice Silco's distraction.

"A mere friend seeking counsel — don't mind him…" Singed assured.

Silco shook his head, dismissing his own curiosity. "It's all there, where you usually store it?" he asked.

"Indeed," he confirmed.

Singed looked at him for a moment.

"Is this to be your only request…?" he asked, knowingly.

Silco let out a short exhale.

"I've gained the impression that you've been working on something…" he answered.

He saw Singed's facial muscles move just enough that he might have been smirking, beneath his head-wrap.

"I regret to say that I'm not quite ready for you to see it," said Singed.

Silco cast an eye at the young man in the corner once more, wondering whether he was subjected to the same level of secrecy.

"…What is it?" Silco replied curtly.

"It is… an organism…" he answered, hardly giving away the store.

"A weapon…?" Silco surmised.

"An… experiment…" Singed replied. "But, far be it from me to prevent you from using it as a blunt instrument against our foes, when the time comes…"

Silco paused in thought, imagining how poorly things would need to go for him to be resorting to some sort of new monstrosity concocted from the man's ever-manic mind.

"I trust you'll inform me when it's done," he sighed.

"Naturally," Singed nodded.

"…We may also benefit from discussing relocation, given the state of affairs," he added, "however, we'll speak on that when you're next alone…"

"As you wish," Singed replied.

Silco gruffly took his leave, giving no further thought to the disheveled young man…

~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~

"Where d'you usually get food from, 'round here…?" Garou asked, with Isha sat between them at her workbench.

"Oh— that's a good idea," Jinx replied eagerly, digging some coin out from a nearby drawer. "Here— could'ya bring us something?"

Garou begrudgingly opened his palm, while Isha turned to watch the transaction take place, seemingly enamored with the shiny items.

"The stall across from The Last Drop is to die for," Jinx suggested. "If ya like seafood, that is…"

Garou slowly got up from his seat. "Whad'ya think I was eatin', stowed away on a ship all those weeks…?" he grumbled.

"…Oranges?" she teased.

He gave a little scoff, plucking Isha's helmet from the table and placing it on her head, giving it a playful shake. She gave a glimmer of a smile back at him.

"Don't mind mister grumpy-pants," Jinx reassured her, returning to her work.

Zapper had just about been returned to its former glory, and then some — she'd come up with a copper-nickel alloy which she was confident would withstand the heat issue which had previously been the weapon's downfall. She'd also been tinkering with a way to make the electric bolts arc toward additional nearby targets, for a whole, two-birds, one stone-type deal…

Isha was watching her, intently.

"I'd give you a test fire, but… this one ain't a toy, kiddo," she said to her. "And we're sitting on a big ol', steel turbine blade, if you've got any idea how electricity works…"

She searched the kid's eyes for a sign that she was being understood — she did come across as pretty perceptive, at times…

Isha made a funny little imitation of being jolted by an electric shock, giving Jinx her answer. It made her smile.

She gave a glance over the table, at all else she'd managed to finish before it had struck noon. Besides almost getting her killed, Piltover's foolhardy little incursion had been a total boon for her work — she now had five additional hextech gemstones to play with, retrieved from the weapons the chosen few enforcers had carried.

Obviously, one would find a home with Fishbones, but as for the remaining four, she was almost stumped by the plethora of ideas which flooded her mind.

The main thing this time, she supposed, was ensuring they'd all be safe from any would-be thieves…

She'd found herself gravitating toward the idea of some type of defensive item, for if things got hairy like they did last time. The thought of it did feel like it'd cramp her style, though, just a little…

She looked at Isha again, playing around with nuts and bolts.

Perhaps the kid could use some protection…

~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~

"It's quite marvelous…" uttered Singed. The man sounded as though he were salivating with fascination.

'This was a mistake, I fear…'

Viktor coughed, from deep inside his chest.

"It wasn't so easy to contain, for transport…" He spoke with strained vocal cords. "You should count yourself fortunate… that I did not side with the part of myself which saw the incredible risk in bringing it here…"

"From what you tell me," Singed replied, prodding carefully at the Hexcore with a pair of forceps, "you had little other choice…"

Viktor attempted to clear his throat again.

"It matters not, I suppose," he said morosely. "The choice has been made... Jayce sees only his enemies, now…"

"Yes— this is why," Singed responded, "we leave men like that to wage their wars, alone — they will only entertain us for as long as we are useful to such efforts." He placed the tool down and went to the other end of the bench to rummage for something.

"That… benefactor of yours," Viktor replied, "he seems hardly different to the warmonger that corrupted Jayce…"

"Perhaps," Singed admitted. "But, in my estimation, they are both destined to obliterate one another. His war is his own to wage as he sees fit — in the meantime, he tests my Shimmer for me, so that I may continue to improve upon it…"

The Undercity that Viktor left behind had fared about as poorly as he'd imagined, without Hextech to lift them, to propel them forward and empower them… he direly hoped it was not too late…

"If I may ask, what is this… organism you alluded to…?" he wondered, of the conversation between the two he'd overheard earlier.

Singed shifted slightly. "That is… the culmination of many years of experimentation in the study of tissue regeneration…"

"You… wish to heal your burns?" Viktor guessed.

"These," he replied, gesturing to his wrapped face, "I have learned to live with. No— I have far loftier aims with this particular pursuit… only, its final piece has up until now eluded me, at what felt like only an arm's reach…"

He spoke with what sounded like a sentimental tone.

"Yet," he went on, "not a few days ago, I found myself with the specimen I'd been envisioning all of this time, on my very table… almost as though fate had willed it so…"

"A… human specimen?" Viktor wondered.

"Yes — his cells are quite remarkable…" Singed beamed, eyeing a microscope station by the edge of the room. "The sample I took has managed to persist for days at room temperature, in only a rudimentary preservation solution. It has even recovered from damage — proliferating without input from the host…"

Viktor had strolled over to take a look at the sample slide positioned under the lens. If Singed's accounting of events was to be believed, it was indeed extraordinary that the cells upon the slide had remained alive…

"…Who is this person?" Viktor queried.

"A stranger to myself," Singed answered. "The garb he wore looked Ionian, to my eye…"

"Hm," Viktor paused to contemplate. "And the wolves…?" he asked, nodding to the decapitated head of a fluid-preserved specimen filling a large, glass jar beside them.

"All variables in the equation…" Singed said vaguely. He'd wandered back over to where the Hexcore resided.

"The effect… on the targeted appendages," Viktor said, in an attempt to shift the topic, "while remarkable, continues to frighten me…"

"You have consumed the second vial now also, I take it?" Singed guessed. "You entered my abode without the aid of your cane…"

"I… yes…" he replied. "I simply… I do not know how much of this… flesh must be transfigured in order to cure my ailment…"

Singed had retrieved a small, narrow beaker with a pronounced spout. "We will know soon enough, I trust," he said, morbidly. "Mortal dread tends not to let one rest…"

Viktor watched him carefully collect a drop of Shimmer from a small, tucked away dispenser. He held the beaker up to his eye-line, observing the fluid droop toward the edge of the glass.

Singed turned to him. "It is my hypothesis that the entity will reject it," he proposed, "however, I would like to satiate my curiosity…"

Viktor had expected such an ask. In his own estimation, the Hexcore's evident robustness left only its immediate surroundings at risk, were it to receive such a stimulant. It may indeed have no effect at all, as Singed had suggested. Equally, it could well kill the man for standing in its proximity during some sort of transmutation, as a result of the stimulant…

Singed held the Shimmer's receptacle between some beaker tongs, as far from his body as he could manage, as he sauntered over to the Hexcore again.

Viktor could never shake the feeling that the thing always seemed to have its attention on him, as though it thought of him, or passed judgment upon him, somehow. He felt it the moment he entered the room, wherever it was being kept. Perhaps, in some strange way, it was his only remaining friend…

He watched Singed tip the beaker forward, cautiously.

The thing almost seemed to react before the purple drop had even left the glass. Viktor's eyebrows lifted at the sight of what happened when it did — within a split second of the liquid contacting it, the Hexcore shot a lance of its own material up and through the beaker, shattering it and causing Singed to drop all he was holding. It then convulsed in a way Viktor hadn't ever observed before — its jagged edges blunting themselves and folding in upon one another.

Singed took another step backward, while both scientists watched the thing eventually settle itself.

Its usual pulsation had been affected permanently, it seemed — it now rippled twice around in a quick succession, before resting and eventually repeating.

"I believe we'd be fools not to consider it a kind of organism, no…?" Singed commented.

Viktor stood, approaching cautiously.

"It… beats— like a heart, now…" he observed.

"You've fed it organic material — yours," Singed stated. "Perhaps it aims to pump your blood…"

Viktor looked at him, contemplating what he might have been getting at.

"Do you imagine it has somehow adopted a… symbiotic nature…?" he pondered.

"If that is your theory, then perhaps you might remove yourself from its company, temporarily," Singed suggested. "I'd be interested to observe the effect…"

Viktor eyed him. It felt like a ploy of some sort…

"If it is all the same to you," he replied, "I desire to attempt a fusion once more, while I still have the strength…"

"Very well," Singed responded. "I should like to observe it — though, I'd prefer we select a location whereby collateral damage to my lab may be minimized…"