It was a bit of a strange thing, but Silco could see himself in Jayce. Not in any obvious way; on the surface, they were as different as they could have been. But beneath the surface, he could see the same guilt and sorrow that simmered within himself. He saw the look in his eye, the same look that he saw when he looked in a mirror: the look of a man haunted by a mistake that had cost too much.
A mistake that had cost lives. Lives that had been important to someone somewhere. How did one live with that?
Even now, so many years after Silco's own tragedy, he didn't know.
There was a moment of contemplation regarding his next move; Silco had never been the sort of man who was warm and comforting. However, he was also the sort of man who knew himself, and he knew what he had needed so long ago. Kindness. Warmth. Gentleness. And he had received it. And it had made living with what he had done just that little bit easier. So he took a gamble, reached out when he might not otherwise. It was hesitant, but he slipped an arm around Jayce in a meager offer of comfort as he guided him off of the tram. Awkward, but Jayce seemed as if he needed it.
They were all Piltover's garbage. It was best that they look after one another. The way of Zaun.
"They never truly leave us, whether we knew them or not. Their echoes remain, reminding us that they once existed and that they no longer exist because of us. Whether they're real, or only in our minds, does that truly matter? They're real enough to us." His words made it clear that he understood, that he had his own echoes that followed him. Echoes related to the girl that now followed Jayce.
For a moment, he paused, looking almost wistfully toward the way that would have taken them deeper into Zaun; that had been his home, the mazes of catwalks and streets deep where the sun hardly shined, where the air was thick and poisonous and the people were rough. They had moved further from their roots, but his roots were always the roots of a sump rat.
"I imagine you'll need proper clothes. I'll ask around. Perhaps Claggor or Benzo might be of help." He wouldn't suggest Vander; Vander had already provided their meals, and he felt that to suggest Jayce borrow some of Vander's clothes might be a bit too uncomfortable.
"Or perhaps..." He shook his head, dismissing both the thought and the bit of homesickness so that he could get the both of them home.
"Do you have friends, family, in Piltover?" he asked once he could see the humble bar looming into view, cozy with the lights on in the living space upstairs waiting for them. The bar itself would be open, though Silco knew that it was not Vander behind the bar. Vander had gone with the children to an expo. It was an opportunity to stave off any uncomfortable meetings for the time being.
He only released his hold on Jayce once they reached the back entrance to the stairs that would take them up to the warmth of the living space, humble and comfortable, adorned with the artwork of children on the walls and Powder's gadgets lying about. It smelled of the musky cologne of two men, of coffee and a hearty stew on the stove.
"Make yourself at home. Mind the mess. The days have been busy of late. There's an expo that Powder and Ekko are showcasing at that's kept everyone's minds on things other than tidiness." By his tone, he was proud, proud of this little home he and Vander had created for their children. Not by blood, but theirs all the same.
