Arcane FF
Author’s note. This is not a Silco/Powder but more of a trauma induced father-daughter relationship. That being said feel free to read it however you like. Hoping to post on AO3 here soon.
Takes place at the end of Ep3.
Also I have yet to watch ep 4-6 fully, so please if anything is incorrect let me know!
Trigger warning, there is description of several panic attacks (though Powder doesn’t know that’s what’s happening) also slight mention of suicide in later parts.
Part 1.
Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8.
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It smelled of heat and smoke. The air was thick with it. Choking, suffocating.
Silco closed his eyes, for a moment transported somewhere else, somewhere wet and cold, and dark.
He felt small hands grip onto the back of his shirt, a weight settling more firmly on his chest. Eyes shooting open Silco glanced down at the small girl clinging to him. All at once the heat and smoke was back. His eyes began to burn from it.
A cough, deep within his lungs readying to expel, but instead was met with a tightening in his chest. A soreness around his neck; no doubt a bruise already on it’s way to the surface.
They needed to move.
Slowly, Silco began to loosen his hold on the child, only for her’s to tighten.
“Please.” She whispered. “Please don’t leave me.”
He paused, teal eye meeting violet.
“We must go.” He said, voice soft over the rumbling flames.
He was new to this, he didn’t want to startle her more than she already was. But they needed to move and quickly, there was no telling how many people had seen the explosion. How many could still see the rising fire in the distance.
They needed to hide. Loath as he was to admit, but they needed to regroup, recount, rethink their strategy.
He didn’t have time to explain, nor acknowledge the emotions of a child.
A terrified, broken, lost, malleable child.
He shifted his grip, slowly moving to his knees, the girl still in his lap.
“We have to leave.” He whispered into her ear as he made to stand up.
She nodded once, still clinging to him like some kind of spider monkey.
Eventually he made it to his feet, swaying a little as he readjusted to the added weight. The child wrapped her legs around him, arms circling his neck. Fearfully she buried her face in his chest. He kept an arm around her, the other moving to support her. He looked over the flames, Vander’s broken and mutated body already beginning to char.
Suddenly he felt bile in the back of his throat and for a moment he thought of looking away. But then he remembered the feeling of air escaping his lungs as two large hands began to squeeze down upon him and-
And they needed to leave.
There would be time for introspection later.
He glanced over his shoulder at the group behind them. They stared back, there was a distinct look of confusion across them all, but whether it was out of fear or some other emotion; none of them had said a word since the explosion.
The explosion.
Silco still wasn’t sure what had happened, or who had caused it.
Because someone clearly had.
Perhaps they were dead as well. Caught in their own trap.
Or perhaps they had already run off, like a coward.
No matter. He’d get to the bottom of it, one way or another.
He always did.
Turning fully, he looked behind the group to the ally that lay beyond.
“Let’s move.”
And with that one phrase they all began to turn, Silco naturally taking the lead while the others trailed behind closely.
He didn’t look back and neither did the child who’s only movement thus far had been to shut her eyes tightly. Minutely it registered with him that she was shaking - a small sob escaping her as she continued to cry.
======
They walked for what felt like hours.
Okay, not hours, but it certainly had felt that way to Powder, who, despite her position was becoming increasingly exhausted. She hadn’t opened her eyes since the man had stood fully and the temptation to sleep was becoming unavoidable.
A part of her wanted to fight it, fight back, scream at her body that it wasn’t fair. Why should she get to rest, why should she get any relief, after all they wouldn’t ever wake again and wasn’t that just ironic. She wanted to sleep so badly and yet, here she was stuck in a loop of internal damnation.
She felt the man under her take a deep breathe, he’d been doing that over the last few minutes. Big, deep breathes, that came out shaky and shallow, almost as if the process of breathing was somehow difficult. Briefly she wondered if perhaps she were too heavy for the man, that she was somehow burdening him, but the thought quickly dispersed. If he was truly uncomfortable he’d have tossed her aside. Hell, maybe he’d even give her a good lecture about how much of a problem she was to everyone-
After all, that’s what Vi had said wasn’t it. And she never said anything she didn’t mean. Not to her at least.
Powder felt an ache deep within her chest at the thought of her si- of Vi, enough that it triggered a new wave of tears. Her arms were growing sore and so she lowered them to the front of the man’s shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as she pushed her burning eyes further into his chest.
The arm circling her shoulders tightened slightly, but other than that there was no sign from the man that he’d noticed her new anguish.
Good. She already felt terrible, she didn’t need the added embarrassment of more tears. The man would probably never wear this shirt again. At this rate it was probably better off in the fire.
She tried to throw the thoughts out of her mind, tried to be rid of Vi - of her family - if only for a moment so she could breathe. Her lungs began to burn as the air was sucked out in one giant sob, the darkness of her eyelids beginning to close in on her.
It hurt.
It hurt so much. And it was her fault. She did this, she caused this. Her. Because she thought she was ready, because she didn’t listen even when Vi told her - even when she saw the fear in her own sister’s eyes. She thought she could do it.
But she wasn’t ready.
And now, here she was, breaking into a billion pieces and scrambling to fit them back together only to find that none of them were ever going to fit correctly again.
At this realization the darkness became too much and suddenly she found she couldn’t open her eyes. A fear stronger than anything she’d ever felt before consumed her. There wasn’t enough air. She was drowning.
Help!
She was falling and she couldn’t see the bottom.
Help me, please!
She was afraid and she was alone.
She couldn’t breathe.
She was alone
The arm around her gave a small pat.
Then another.
And another.
Small pats that seemed to slice through the deafening darkness.
Slowly, her mind began to clear, each pat seeming to wipe away a bit of the fog. Her lungs stopped burning, and for the first time in what felt like ages a strange calmness seemed to wash over her.
She wasn’t alone.
She wasn’t falling into a deep, dark, terrifying abyss.
She was hurting, she was scared and broken.
But she wasn’t alone.
She felt the man breathing normally again. The pats coming to a sudden stop just as she began to open her eyes.
They weren’t moving.
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Silco had been counting down, his own mind going into over drive the moment they stepped into the ally.
He wasn’t…panicking to say, so much as recalculating. Reevaluating their next move. Looking for the right step. Finding the silver lining between Zaun and Piltover. It wasn’t going to be easy. Especially with Vander no longer holding everything together.
Surprisingly killing the man had never been his full intention. He wanted Vander’s support, needed it if he was ever going to try and persuade The Lanes to join him. Unfortunately that plan had blown out the window along with everything else in the building. His precious serum along with it.
Of course he had more elsewhere - still it was such a shame and most certainly a waste.
Oh well, back to the figurative drawing board.
Silco decide to push all fears and insecurities from his mind. He could worry about everything once they were in a secure location. Instead he decide to focus on his breathing, only just realizing how painful it was, each intake feeling like a punch to the throat. He thought perhaps the smoke had been the cause for his discomfort, unfortunately it was never so simple was it.
Clearing his mind he continued counting down, this time trying to balance out each breathe with every fourth count. The result was a measured pattern that ended painfully with each exhale. But it was working. Slowly. Very slowly his mind began to clear, the pain ebbing away, until he reached the end. Steadying out, he was gratefully no one could see him. It was dark in the ally now turned tunnel, but Silco knew his way, having traversed this path many times. They were getting close.
Suddenly his focused shifted as the girl’s arms dropped to his shirt collar, digging in. He felt her push closer to him. Small body taking in her own shaky breaths as another sob wrestled out. Instinctively he held her a little tighter, some foreign part of him responding in a way that surprised him. Frowning, he tried to ignore the girl, choosing instead to direct his attention to the secret door they’d soon come upon.
Until he heard it.
It started off small; tiny little shallow breaths that barely made a sound. Growing slowly with every step that he took. Silco listened in as they became a ragged, broken noise, no longer a sob but as if gasping for air. His gut twisted.
Loudly the child began sucking in oxygen that appeared to not be doing anything judging by the force of each breath. Her little hands scrambling at his chest, clawing at anything as her body became limp; heavy like a stone. Only her legs had remained unmovable.
He slowed his pace, not quite sure of what was the appropriate reaction. Clearly the child was having some kind of fit. Her gasping reaching far too close to home for him.
Until it didn’t.
It took Silco a few seconds to come to the realization that’d she’d stopped breathing altogether. As if she’d inhaled something that wasn’t air.
As if she was drowning.
A cold rage shot through him and he felt himself slowly patting the child’s back. He’d stopped walking completely, suddenly frozen by his own panic as a certain memory played out in front of him.
~~~~~
“You can’t do this anymore, Silco, it isn’t right!?”
“Right?!” He heard his own voice crack as he looked at the man he’d once called brother. “What do you know of right? What do they know of right?! You think they give a damn what happens to us Vander, sooner or later they’ll-“
“That’s why this has to stop! We’re loosing too many- too many innocents who wanted nothing to do with this! We should have never gone to war!”
“We would have died if we hadn’t gone to war!”
“But they did die! So many, too many, Silco.”
“It’s the price for freedom, you knew that, you knew-“
“I knew.”
The ‘brothers’ stared at each other, red smoke surrounding them.
“We have to keep fighting Vander.”
“No Silco, we don’t.”
He felt the child take in a gasping breathe, then another, and another, until slowly, second by second it seemed to even out. Her grip slacking a bit on his shirt and her body seemed less limp. Good, he thought.
He gave her one more small pat, coming to realize he’d been doing so for quite sometime now and grinned as he noticed he’d stopped right outside their secret location.
Not bothering to check to see if Sevika and the rest were close behind, he quickly slipped them through the door.
=======================================
Powder had no idea where they were.
It kind of reminded her of home, in that it appeared to be another room underneath another room or establishment. The man didn’t stop though, he continued on down another hall, and then some stairs, lots of stairs. Stairs that creaked with each step and appeared more dangerous the further they went. Eventually it bottomed out and they emerged into another small room. Another door leading to who knows where was tucked into the far side. Silco stopped in front of it.
Oddly enough, the stench of Zaun didn’t seem to reach down here. Powder glanced around the room curiously.
“Are you listening.” The man’s voice cut sharply through the silent room. Powder’s head whipped around to look at him but he was staring straight ahead.
“You need to understand what I’m about to say, so I’ll ask again. Are you listening.”
Powder looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.
“This place…it’s secret. You know what that is?”
Another nod.
“Good. It’s a secret because if everyone knew about it it wouldn’t be safe, we wouldn’t be safe. And you want that don’t you.”
nod.
The man let out a deep sigh. “As long as you’re down here, no one will ever find you, not those Piltover scum or anyone from Zaun. You will be safe here.”
Powder looked between the man’s eyes. A small fear was creeping up on her. She had to know.
“Will you be safe here too?” she asked so quietly Silco wondered if he’d heard her despite their proximity.
But he did, and the question made him pause.
“Will you keep this secret?”
“Yes.” Powder was growing worried.
“Then yes, I will be safe here too.”
The child visibly looked relieved, then she leaned back in to rest her head on his chest. Curious.
Slowly he looked down at her. Then in one fluid motion he pulled the levered door and it creaked open.
A new stench wafted into Powder’s nose. Vaguely it reminder her of a smithy. Hot iron or steel, melting. And something else she couldn’t identify.
The man stepped through and out onto what appeared to be a balcony. The door slamming shut behind them.
Glancing out over the railing, Powder’s eyes grew large. It was a smithy! But no, it was also a factory, a large smithy? She wasn’t sure, but wherever they were the place was massive. Definitely several blocks in length.
She could see dozens of people milling about, but they were too far away for her to really be able to see what they were doing.
“Where are we?” She mumbled out.
“An old armory of sorts.” The man said, turning to his right and descending some more stairs.
“An armory?” Powder asked.
“Yes, a weapons shop.”
“Like, like guns?” she was feeling kind of dazed, the fumes suddenly hitting her.
The man reached the bottom of the steps, but instead of stepping out into a hall that would lead to the factory floor he turned the opposite way down a second hall that had another door at it’s end.
“Like guns.” He said.
Powder nodded, choosing to stay quiet this time.
They made it to the end of the hall, through the next door and into another room that looked to be the most comfortable room thus far. There was a large rug in the middle with two plush looking chairs upon it, a couch placed opposite, a mirror on one wall, and a painting on another. There were some boxes discarded to the side and a small desk in a corner to the right of those. Three doors surrounded the edges of the room, excluding the one they walked through.
Powder eyed the couch. It looked extremely expensive and extremely comfy. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to fall asleep atop it.
The man didn’t linger long though, already making his way towards the furthest door.
Several more halls later and they came to a simple metal door.
The man pushed it open. Inside lay a small, somewhat tattered cot, with a large wool blanket folded neatly on top, to the left side lay a large basin/tub and toilet. A wooden chair sat in a far corner, while a florescent light dimly lit the room.
The man walked towards the cot. Gently he began to set the child down.
Powder went willingly, too tired to put up much of a fight. Blearily she looked around the room.
“Is this where you live?” She asked. The man looked at her.
“No, but it’s where you’ll be staying.”
Powder felt that same fear for the millionth time that night grip her.
“You’re leaving?” She could already feel the tears begging to prick her eyes. “Please, please don’t leave me alone!”
The man stared back at her.
All at once, it was too much again. The tears came freely and Powder wiped furiously at her eyes.
“Why?” She hiccuped. “Why are you leaving? What did I do? I’m sorry!” She reached out towards the man, fisting her tiny hands into his shirt once more. “I’m sorry, please, please! Don’t leave me alone!” She smashed her face into him, as sob after sob wracked through her.
Minutes passed, with neither the man moving or with Powder’s tears stopping.
Eventually. Eventually she began to calm. Her eyes slowly drying as she became too exhausted to cry anymore. She felt sick.
After a few minutes of silence the man slowly pulled her arms and face away from him, propping her back up on the cot. He crouched down like he’d done once before.
He searched her face, eventually meeting her swollen eyes. A bruise was beginning to form on her left cheek. There was dried blood under her nose.
“What do they call you.” He asked.
Powder stared back tiredly. But the question made her think. Made her consider.
“…Jinx.”
“You may call me Silco.” The man, Silco, said. He seemed to be waiting for something, so she gave him a small nod. He blinked.
“Jinx.” He started, “I need you to listen to me very carefully. Whatever may or may not have happened earlier tonight, has nothing to do with what is happening now. You…and I, we aren’t so different. But you must also realize. I can’t be what you may always need. But I will keep my word. One day, we will show them the truth. One day, we’ll show them all. But until then, understand that you will be kept safe, kept healthy and kept strong. That I can promise you, that is all I will promise you. Do you understand?”
Powder stared. Did she? Honestly, she wasn’t sure. She was tired though, that she did understand. And right now there was only one thought that kept her form passing out.
“Are you going to leave me?”
Several emotions seemed to play out across Silco’s face in the span of a few seconds. Eventually something bordering a scowl settled in.
“I am. I will.”
Powder opened her mouth in protest but the man held up a hand to stop her.
“But.” He held her gaze. “I will return.”
Powder gazed back, her chest hurting and fear circling. She came to a decision.
“You promise?”
Silco looked between her eyes, suddenly realizing that they were no longer violet, but a soft blue. For a moment - he thought to ask - but decide it could wait for another day. Reaching out he placed what he hopped was a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“I promise.” And he meant it.
Powder searched his face, seeming to believe him she nodded once and then scooted back on the cot.
Silco straightened; he pulled the wool blanket up and handed it to her as she laid down.
“I shall return in the morning, get some sleep, we have much to discuss tomorrow.”
With that, he turned and headed towards the door.
“Silco!” Powder cried out suddenly, the man stopped.
“What-what if something happens? How do I find you?” She pulled the blanket up close, already scared of being alone again.
Silco seemed to consider, “There’s always someone in the armory, just find them and they’ll find me.”
Without waiting for a reply he opened the door and walked out. She laid silently as she listened to his footsteps quickly fade away. Powder let out a deep sigh before pulling the blanket up and over her head. She felt like crying again, luckily the moment her head touched the pillow her mind blinked out.