I'll Know | Silco x Cassandra | Heavy Is The Crown Series (Part 1)
A/N: So I thought I'd try to sort of change things up this time and do something a lot darker than I usually do. I'm going to be painfully honest, I actually wasn't a Silco girl until I got the idea for this fic, which I think is so crazy. I'm now neck-deep in my Silco phase after this and I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm so thrilled to share this one with you all and hope you enjoy this series. Love from Starla☆
(On a side note, I suddenly remembered that Cassandra is also the name of Cait's mom, but they ARE two different people, I just have the memory of a surfaced goldfish.)
Warnings: Excessive violence, political violence, war, death, death in detail, insinuated grief, insinuated trauma, early onset manipulation.
What's Playing: Christmas Kids - Roar
The bar was completely packed that night, as she scoot through the crowd of The Last Drop and slide to one of the last remaining barstools.
She weren't very surprised by how busy it was. I mean, it was a Friday, and Vander did have the best whiskey in all of Zaun.
"Hey," She starts awkwardly, nudging the man beside you. "You're Silco, right? You're Vander's friend?"
He looks utterly stun blocked for a moment that you're actually talking to him, for a moment. He puts down the book he was reading for a moment, paying you his full attention, "Uh…yeah. You are…?"
"Cassandra. I just moved here from just outside the lanes. Vander told me if I was looking for a friend, you…uh…" she trails off.
"He thinks I'm a loner." He finishes for her, a tad of amusement laced in his voice.
She shrugs, "If it helps, at least we're both loners."
He laughs at that, actually laughs out loud, which makes her smile.
Conversation runs fairly smoothly between the both of them, and in between customers, Vander even slides them drinks, "So, how goes it? Making friends, Cass?"
"Well, he's better than nothing." She teases.
"Hey!" Silco grunts, punching her arm playfully.
Vander laughs at that, "Good to see you're getting along. I'll have to find a night you can meet Felicia as well. Though, she's not out here nearly as much. Got herself a little ankle biter at home."
"Been telling her all about that. That and this plan we've got for fixing up Zaun." Silco says, leaning back, watching for her reaction.
"Yeah, I guess I'm glad someone is finally trying to fix this hell hole. Especially for that girl. God knows the future could use an independent, unified Zaun."
"Hey," Vander starts, "If you've got a couple good ideas in that pretty head of yours, us knuckleheads could sure use the help."
Cassandra smiles at that, "Maybe I will."
The three of them were the perfect team. Vander was always the best choice as figurehead. He was always a respected member of the lanes. As for Silco and Cassandra, having the both of them as strategists, bouncing ideas off each other, it was the best outcome for all of them. They were a strong group.
With a strong group like they were, people caught word of the uprising fast. Protests started to spark. Things looked...hopeful. For once, Zaun was unified under one cause; to get Piltover to recognize Zaun as an independent.
But uniting Zaun was only half the project.
Aftet enough tireless nights, a few years of planning and spreading the word, the first fruits of their labour started to flower. A protest, right on the bridge between them. This was good, Cassandra had thought. If they could only get Piltover to see, see the unity and strength that Zaun had, maybe they would finally understand.
But the protest had lasted for hours, tensions rising with each passing moment. People were getting tired, restless, pushy.
It wasn't long before the first punch was thrown. It wasn't anything big or spectacular, but it was enough to spark even more tension. Before any of them knew it, there was fist fights at the front lines.
Cassandra was the first to notice him.
"We have to do something, Cassandra." He says over his shoulder, back still turned to her.
"There's nothing we can do."
"Yes. There is. And if nobody has the guts to stand up to these assholes, I'll do it myself."
Cassandra scoffs, "Yeah? And what do you suppose we do?"
Silco doesn't answer, but his figure pauses all movements for a moment.
"Wait...wait, Silco, what are you-!" but before she can even finish her sentence, the Molotov cocktail flies through the air.
Cassandra had never really grasped the idea of a single moment, a single decision, changing the trajectory of a person's life. Let alone an entire group of people. That was until that moment.
All hell broke out that day. Bodies of strangers melded with those Cassandra swore she had to have spoken to at least once or twice in passing, melding with neighbors, melding with...anyone.
It was all a blur, all of it.
That was until she saw Vander, knuckles bloodied and that haunted look in his eyes as he stood by the river. She didn't even realize it until...
"I had to..." Vander's voice, once soft and comforting, now tinged with guilt, horror, and...justice?
That's when she saw the body beneath him.
"Silco..." She breathes. She rushes down, already to her knees beside his unconcious body when she feels Vander's hand on her shoulder, shoving her backwards.
"Show him no sympathy, Cassandra. All those people? All those...all those...bodies? They're all because of him. Because he decided to hoist himself up by the balls and do the dangerous thing."
"But nothing!" Vander snaps, grabbing her by her shirt and pulling her up to his eye level. "Those kids...Vi...Powder. Their parents are dead. Dead. All in the name of Silco's damn pride to be the hero."
She's utterly speechless, tears welling in her eyes even as he tosses her back down to the ground. "Go home, Cassandra. There's no need to mourn the wicked. Thanks to that man, I have two girls I have to raise on my own, now." And with that statement, he's gone, disappearing back to what looks like home? But she could barely see ten feet in front of her now.
She states back at Silco for another moment, her face scrunching with emotion. Was it anger? Maybe sadness? Definitely guilt. But maybe Vander was right.
