#after 3 years of writing Jinx for you I really haven't given you anything soft

[f1shbonez]

❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. 

Everything felt like a series of closing doors. The busted job. The shimmer. Ekko. Everything that could have gone wrong was going wrong and the entire pack of Firelights was reeling in the aftermath. Suddenly it felt like Jinx’s days were numbered. The dream was over, wasn’t it? Dreams never lasted. It was time to wake up. 

Ekko’s room felt tiny with all the Firelights that came and went. Jinx knew Scar well enough to see that he hadn’t been happy about her pitching up camp, but he’d known better than to push the matter. Not right now. Not when they were all worrying in their own ways. Not when she had enough shimmer in her system to tear him to pieces. 

Since when was staying put such a foreign concept to these guys? The other Firelights that came and went had other people. If the job had gone off without a hitch she’d have been with Ekko right now, anyway. Scar had Z and Ahri, Eve had Ray… Everyone had someone else to slink off to. They had someone to listen and offer some kind of assurance in the aftermath of everything.

Besides, Jinx hadn’t made any move to stop the bugs from coming in and tending to their gravely wounded leader. They moved differently around her now, as though a wolf had seated itself in a field of lambs. Jinx ignored the way it stung. The discomfort paled in comparison to the desperate caged fear she felt seeing Ekko on his bunk, unconscious and scuffed up to hell. The way they were looking at her distorted with every subtle movement. Was it blame, disgust, fear, or plain sadness? Jinx couldn’t tell.  

Was breaking a cardinal rule okay if it meant Ekko survived? So far, it seemed like nobody wanted to tell her. Perhaps her recklessness deserved their disdain, or the ugly feeling attached to their fear. Someone had to make her feel bad about it in Ekko’s absence, she supposed. 

Jinx’s presence was deadly silent as the others did their checks, only melting back to something more human once the door was closed and they were alone. 

You were supposed to talk to people when they were unconscious. Jinx was certain of it. It was supposed to help them wake up. It was supposed to tether them a little closer to the land of the living. All the other bugs had been so busy talking to each other, none of them had even bothered to ask unconscious Ekko what he thought.

“-And that’s when I found out that if it’s oil-based you’re kindaaaa screwed.” Jinx recounted, resting her cheek in the crook of her arm from where she lounged with a deceptively steady demeanour.

“‘Course I never told him that at the time- It was kind of a fake-it-’til-ya-make-it phase I was going through. Turns out that’s not just a me thing, but I was in too deep by that point. And once you’re committed, well…that’s kinda just the way things have gotta go.” 

Shimmer-laced eyes lifted to Ekko’s face, as though expecting some form of response. Ignoring the plummeting feeling in her chest, Jinx redirected her focus to the workbench at the other side of the room. It was just a silly bump on the head, that was all. They just didn’t have magic strong enough to patch him up faster. No shimmer, either. Sure, Z had come to take a look, but Jinx hadn’t liked the concern riddling the lines on her face. Not one bit. 

The memory of the bullet tearing through Ekko’s skull ripped back into Jinx’s mind again. The sound. The sudden weight of him collapsing in her arms. The stomach-churning dread as they began to plummet together.   

No. It wasn’t real. 

It wasn’t.

She’d managed to make it stop. She’d helped…hadn’t she? Unable to shake the feeling of guilt, Jinx pulled herself to her feet and drifted closer to Ekko. Sure, she’d circumvented the bullet with his name on it, but had she just found a slower, more painful way to kill him? 

The ferocious rush of shimmer through her veins sharpened everything. But there was nothing left to fight now. The only danger left was one that she couldn’t tear apart. It was something delicate. Precarious. She’d never been good with that.

But she wanted to try. 

The steady rise and fall of Ekko’s chest soothed the monstrous fear within Jinx. An unspoken weight of grief and tenderness lingered in unnaturally pink eyes. Did he know she was still here, could he feel it? Pale fingers feathered a reverent path towards his cheek. Gentle. She could be gentle. 

“Promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up.” 

The words he’d spoken hours ago swam through her mind. 

Silly Ekko asking silly questions. She’d loathed the weakness in his voice. Hearing him speak was supposed to make her feel better, so why had the handful of stupid words he managed to croak make her feel even worse?!

“Where else would I be?” She’d murmured back, wondering if he’d been awake long enough to hear her. 

Ekko had been so out of it that he hadn’t looked at her differently like the others. Was that because he saw her through the shimmer, or because he was so out of it he hadn’t noticed? From how Z was talking, it sounded like the more he slept, the worse it could be. He’d been sleeping a lot. 

If Ekko pulled through, what was he going to say? Would he be upset, or would he understand? She’d done what none of the others could have done. The Firelights had needed a weapon. If Jinx could be anything, she could be that. 

None of them knew that the closeness between their leader and his old flame was a little …closer these days. Things had been good. Too good. Good enough to lose yourself in the haze before it all came crashing down. It was like the universe’s sickest joke to offer a taste of something better- for Jinx to become more of a skeleton in a closet than a daily appearance. She’d learned what it was like to fix things- to be a part of something. To heal. To love.

“...You’re gonna hafta wake up soon.” A steady stream of morning light was trickling through the window. From the foot of the bed, Jinx’s words rose with an air of steadiness she didn’t remotely feel. She couldn’t crumble now. She couldn’t. Ekko needed her to be strong. 

“‘Cause I told you all the gossip and stories I can think of–and I know we got interrupted halfway through the swimming one, but there’s no chance I’m risking a re-telling when breakfast could appear.”