#young!vander

I've been here before, But always hit the floor. I've spent a lifetime running, And I always get away. But with you, I'm feeling something. That makes me want to stay. “Writing’s on the Wall” – Sam Keith

——-

The next morning you awoke disoriented, in pain, and alone.  As you sat up and palmed across the side of the bed where your former sleep mate had been you’d wondered where he’d gone off to, not that he had to appraise you of his whereabouts.  For crying out loud, you’d thought, you barely know the man and here you’re feeling…

What was it you were feeling, you asked yourself, as you stood up a bit gingerly and was surprised to see something fall off you and onto the floor. When you bent in an awkward manner, mindful of your stitches, to retrieve what looked to be a folded scrap of paper that you opened and began to read, you realized with a slight pang exactly what it was you were feeling:

Disappointment. 

Disappointment and perhaps…loneliness, if you were being honest with yourself. You made a disgusted frown. Sure, you were a bit contact-starved from living alone for so long, but for Janna’s sake, you shouldn’t start latching onto the first person that held a conversation with you. Sure, he’d help patch you up and wasn’t bad to look at, even with that beak of a nose of his that you might find a bit adorable, but that wasn’t a reason to start fawning over him.

“You are quite possibly the saddest excuse for a human being that walked the Lanes,” you mumbled to yourself as your fingers traced over the surprisingly fancy penmanship of Silco’s that adorned the paper and read it in its entirety. You didn’t think you’d ever seen your name look so elegant.

Went to talk with Vander. Meet me back at the bar and take your time to rest and clean up. Silco

You smirked at the elegant look of the message as you began to wonder if Silco was born of the Lanes at all. With his way of speaking as well as his apparent skills with the pen, if you didn’t know any better (and you didn’t) you’d swear he was born in Piltover and had received only the best education possible. As you made your way to his washroom, you’d eyed the many books piled about the room and in glancing at their titles alone, your suspicions about his being educated in a more formal sense only mounted. Subjects were things such as history, geography, science, and only a rare few fictional works that seemed to have an overwhelming nautical theme.

“Huh, not one naughty novel or anything fluffy? So boring, you are, Silco,” talking to yourself again as you spied a clean, but well-worn, towel and washcloth that had been laid out presumably for you in the small washroom you entered. The door to the room wouldn’t even open the entire way due to where the sink was placed and the shower within was barely big enough for one person to fit into. You began to remove your clothes, careful to not undo the stitching that adorned your front. Looking into the small, oxidized, and somewhat cracked mirror above the sink, you debated whether or not undoing all the gauze and jumping in the shower was smart. 

Admittedly, you looked a fright as your mess of a reflection stared back at you. The kohl around your red, tired eyes showed the track lines of some of the tears that had escaped in pain as you’d been sewn up. The black lipstick, once neatly painted upon your lips, was smeared sideways across your mouth. Memories of some of the clowns that entertain children at festivals came to mind and you huffed a laugh at yourself. 

“A monumental first impression,” you muttered with a sigh as you grabbed the washcloth, bar of soap, and resigned to use the sink to bathe everything around the areas bandaged and leave the dressing as is in order to heal more. Once finished with cleansing your skin, you had the unfortunate dilemma of your hair to deal with. The rats’ nest atop your head that held the fuzzy, long braid that came out of it gave off the impression that you might be feral, at best. Turning around, you eyed the shower and the bar handles that adorned the side walls within and had an idea. You removed the blade that adorned the end of your braid, unraveled it, and finger-brushed it a bit before turning on the shower. After waiting for a few moments to see if the water would warm (it didn’t), you then proceed to turn backwards, still naked aside from the bandage across your torso, and hold onto either railing to allow for your head to fall beneath the water to at least rinse out your hair.

After a long while of letting the cold water run over your scalp, to your absolute shock and horror, you felt a pair of arms come under you and lift you up as you let out an undignified squeak and flailed.

“You’re going to slip and break your neck doing that,” Silco scolded you as you frantically tried to right yourself to a standing position out of his arms, sliding on the floor a bit, and just ending up falling further into his grasp.

“You said you’d meet me at the bar! You said take my time getting ready! What the fuck are you doing in here?! Put me down!” you yell at him as he returned you to your feet.

Silco and you both then stare at each other for a few moments before the realization that you were still quite naked seemed to dawn on you both simultaneously, causing his eyes to widen before he spun around with his back to you, as you squeaked again, and grabbed for the towel. Wrapping the towel around your waist, since your top half was covered with the bandage, you then began to braid your hair back into the singular braid as you waited for him to answer. 

Silco seemed to take a second before he responded in a wry tone, his back still to you, “Yes, I said I’d meet you at the bar and, yes, I said to take your time. I didn’t realize you’d be in here until late afternoon and when I’d not heard anything out of you, I merely came to check on you. Speaking of which you’re very lucky I did, seeing that your recklessness blends into everyday life, apparently. Lastly, this is my room so I do have every right to be in here.”

Late afternoon? Fantastic, I’ve now probably missed my window with his damned brother.

“I—“ you began to retort and whatever words you were going to say died on your lips. Silco wasn’t wrong you were just surprised and notably should have probably also closed the door to the bathroom.

“Are you decent yet so I can at least turn around and we can speak like normal people?” he asked in a voice that gave the hint he was smiling through his words.

“Neither of us are normal, but yes, I’m decent,” you said and he turns around in the doorway and leans against it and crosses his arms.

Silco takes an agonizing minute as his eyes rake over you, from head to toe, and you take a step backwards into the wall behind you, without thinking. He then has the audacity to walk closer to you before coming up and reaching out and you hold your breath. A small knowing grin touches his features as he seemed to delight a bit in invading your personal space, making you squirm, and pretended to examine the bandage around your mid-section, his fingers ghosting along the edges of the bandage in spots.

“Looks like this held up since last night well. Doesn’t seem that you ripped out any of the stitches, so that’s good.”

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your handiwork.”

“No, that would be a shame if I had to have you strip again. Not that I’m complaining about the view,” he said as his grin goes wide and he winks before he turns around to leave the bathroom, leaving you standing there with your mouth agape.

“Bastard,” you call in a sing-song voice to him in the other room as you hear him laugh and the squeak of bed as he presumably sat upon it.

“Hurry up and get dressed. Vander is waiting for our little talk,” he called from the other room as you began to put your clothes back on which included his shirt from the night before. You finished braiding the long plait and wove the blade back into its end before taking one last look into the mirror at yourself. You adjusted his shirt, that was indeed big on you, to hang off one shoulder a bit and then proceeded to walk out into the living area. While he had been seated upon the bed, waiting; Silco stood upon you entering the room.

“I thought you boys had something to attend to this afternoon? Sounded important,” you began as he moved towards the door.

“I convinced Vander that we could use that little excursion as your first test,” Silco said as he opened the door for you and motioned for you to exit.

“As long as it doesn’t involve scaling walls and roof tops I’d inevitably slide down the wrong way,” you remarked sarcastically as he gave you a side glance as you grinned and he rolled his eyes at you. You followed him back down the hallway that you knew led to the bar. “In all seriousness, I’m certain this is going to take a bit to heal, mostly cause of where its located.”

“I’m sure,” he began and then stopped suddenly in his tracks an turned as you nearly rammed into him. “Are you still in a lot of pain?” He asked in all seriousness.

“I’ll live.”

“They’re old, so I know they weren’t that effective, but we can likely scrounge up a few more painkillers if you feel that would help,” he said as his hand motioned as if he was going to reach out to you before he fisted it and lowered it back down.

“I’m fine. Or I will be. Thank you, though. Maybe I’ll hit you up for some before I head home this evening tho, but I’m fine for now.”

You didn’t miss how his face fell a bit when you mentioned leaving before he nodded and turned back to leading you to the main bar area. Just as the evening prior, Vander was behind the bar slinging drinks to the patrons of The Last Drop. Even though you’d slept into the afternoon, it was still a bit early for the denizens of Zaun to pack into the popular bar, so only a couple stragglers were sitting at the tables within. Silco motioned for you to have a seat up to the bar as he did so himself. You began to sit, but then thought better of it due to your stitches and merely leaned against the bar top.

“What’ll it be?” Vander said as he noticeably eyed your neck where a light bruise from his hand had formed. “It’s on the house.”

“Well, in that case, one finger of your best whiskey, sir,” you said in your best Piltie accent with a wink as both Vander and Silco rolled their collective eyes at you.

“You’ll need a double for what we’ve got to discuss,” Vander said with a bit of foreboding as he set the glass in front of you with twice the amount of liquor you’d requested in it. “As I think Sil had already mentioned to ya, he and I had a bit of business down at the docks we needed to take care of. Apparently, he thinks you’ve got enough worth to go ahead and test you out today.”

“So, what sort of business are we talking about here, boys? A little arms dealing, petty theft, extortion—“

“Intel,” Silco cut you off before you could continue your list.

“That sounds rather dull. In my experience, intelligence gathering is also better performed by one person, not three,” you said as you took a long drink of whiskey and relished the burn on your throat as it went down and began to warm you from inside to out. “This is rather nice. Thank you.”

“Well, well. The lady has manners,” Vander quipped before you pointed your finger at him with the hand that still held the tumbler.

“I’m no lady, so let’s put that rumor to bed before it starts. I have a reputation to uphold. Really, the audacity,” you said, laced with sarcasm as Vander grinned and laughed.

“Now that you’re involved, it won’t be three of us. Still just two,” Silco cut in with a level of seriousness that deflated the banter between you and Vander. Silco give Vander a seething glance as his jaw muscle ticked, which Vander didn’t see. Was he angry at him?

Or jealous? Your mind filled in and you audibly let out a noise before speaking aloud, “Not bloody likely, you idiot.”

Both men just stared at you believing your words were potentially for either or the both of them. You really needed to get this talking to yourself under better control.

“Sorry. Talking to myself, again,” you said through a sheepish smile and then promptly drained your glass dry and put it back down on the bar top with a bit more force than needed.

Silco and Vander gave each other a glance and seemed to communicate with only that for a moment before continuing.

“Since Sil spoke for ya, he’ll be the one responsible for ya on this run,” Vander started before his grin returned and he leaned forward on the bar, placing himself a bit between you and Silco and he poured you a refill of your drink. “I’ve got dibs on the next run though, lass, if you do well.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” you say back as you begin to grin but it dies on your mouth as you again catch the glance from Silco at Vander from over the big man’s shoulder. He was fuming and you watched him grip his own drink tight enough that his knuckles ran white. You quickly changed the mood of the conversation to distract him with business, “So explain what exactly you and I are to do here, Silco. Or should I call you ‘Sil’, now that we’re all good friends?”

“Silco is fine for you,” Silco stated as he visibility relaxed a bit again after a last lingering glance to Vander. “We are to spy on the Enforcers that have almost tripled their guard at this particular area lately for no good reason.”

“If they’ve tripled their guard, there has to be a good reason,” you added as both men nodded in agreement before Silco continued.

“Precisely. We suspect it’s shipments being brought in from Ionia, potentially for something they’ve only recently began working on,” Silco began before taking a sip of his drink, lit a cigarette, and took a long pull of it before exhaling and continuing. “From everything we’ve gathered, we’ve learned they may be building some form of a defense mechanism or potentially a weapon, the stories we’ve heard are frustratingly conflicting.”

Vander placed his hand over Silco’s forearm and looked around in alarm before narrowing his glance on his brother-in-arms, “A bit louder, Sil, I don’t think the neighbors down the street heard you talkin’ about Piltover’s possible secrets.”

Silco rolled his eyes and removed Vander’s hand from his arm, “Please, while I know my voice carries, I’m certain the only ones within earshot here are loyalists to the cause, Vander. But thank you, mother, I’ll keep it in mind.”

Vander tutted before you spoke, “Defense mechanism or weapon, eh? And if it’s coming in from Ionia, I’d thought you’d said the docks? Ionian shipments only come to bay at the airship port.”

“Docks, port, eh, all the same,” Vander shrugged before someone seated at one of the tables at the far end of the room made a signal for another drink. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

Silco let out a long sigh before taking another drag from his cigarette which you made no effort to hide your longing for one, “You and I both know when it comes to subterfuge, a dock and an airship port is definitely not the same. It’s the airship ports we’re discussing here, sweetheart. Honestly, I’m almost glad you’re coming with me on this one rather than Vander. He tends to forget how big he is, at times, and I’d need more than two hands to count the number of times we’ve been found out because of that.”

You both laughed a bit at that and Silco pulled another fresh cigarette from his pocket and offered it to you.

“I probably shouldn’t. At least until I can visit the old man to get a stronger dose in order,” you said as you licked your lips a bit in want and he shrugged and put the fresh one away.

“Likely a wise decision. You can just sit there and absorb second hand,” he said as he exhaled a few smoke rings upward in a a bit of a show.

“Such a gentleman.”

“Now there’s something I’ve never been called.”

“So you’re saying I’m setting myself up for unrealistic expectations, eh? Pity. And here I thought with all that fancy talk surely I’d had you dead to rites,” you smirked over your glass before you took another sip.

“Fancy talk?”

“You do know you talk like a damned Piltie, right?” You asked and he actually gave you a look of surprise. “Surely you realize that?”

“I’m not sure what you’re suggesting,” he began as he finished his drink and then ashed out his spent cigarette in the empty glass. “Just because I don’t speak like a heathen, doesn’t mean I’m one of them.”

“So you’re not from there? Not some sad tale of a rich boy raised in the city that did something horrible that had him disowned and banished to the Lanes to live the life of a Trencher?”

Silco began to laugh wholeheartedly at the story you’d concocted for him, “No. Nothing that sordid. I merely educated myself in an attempt to spite them.”

You gave him an appreciative smile and joined his laughter for a bit. That revelation made perfect sense with what little you still knew about Silco. It also explained the books you’d spied within his room. It was actually admirable that he’d gone to those lengths, especially out of spite, you thought, as you chuckled once again to yourself. It was then that Vander came up to stand aside the both of you and placed his hands on either of your shoulders.

“I miss something?” He asked with a grin at the laughter.

“Apparently,” Silco began with a bit more of an air than normal to his voice. “I’m from Piltover, Vander. Can you believe it?”

Vander chuckled and patted Silco on the shoulder before moving back behind the bar, “Get ta know him better. You’ll change that tune right quick.”

The three of you chuckled a bit before Vander’s face turned serious again, “Ya fill ‘er in on what the job is, Sil?”

Silco lit the other cigarette he’d previously offered you and took a long drag from it before responding, “A little. I’ve not gotten around to explaining the bit about what they may be building and what we’re truly looking to learn while there.”

Both you and Vander then gave Silco an expectant look when he paused as he took a sip of his drink and then continued.

“You asked about the item of defense or weapon,” Silco began as you nodded and slid a bit closer to where he was standing as Vander leaned in across the bar. “From all reports we’ve been able to patch together, Piltover, or rather someone from their academy, has potentially learned of a rare metal that could be used for a variety of things and both uses for armoring the guards as well as enhanced weaponry have been mentioned in reports. With this knowledge, there’s talk of increased trade with other realms within Runeterra, potentially adding to their already overly lucrative endeavors that the council has been running. I swear they do more dirty dealings than we do in the Undercity.”

Your eyes grew wide, “Has this been confirmed? Opening up trade like that would exponentially empower Piltover even more so than they are now? How would we ever keep up?”

“Calm down, we’ve not confirmed anything yet and that’s why were going to spy on them a bit. It will allow us to figure out what all this secrecy with their cargo has been as of late so we can piece together what is actually going on.”

“Regardless of whatever its use turns out to be—something like this, gentlemen, is not something that’s to be trifled with. That’s a hell of a lot of power you’re talking about and I’m not just talking about the trade and financial gains from this, if this all pans out. That would be just the start,” you said as you finished your drink quickly and felt your entire being buzz with warmth.

“Which is precisely why we’re going there to find out. If they do have something like this, and that’s a big ‘if’, then two can play at that game. We can get our hands on whatever this is and have our own people break it down, weaponize it, use it against—“

“Silco,” Vander cut him off as he slammed a glass he’d been cleaning down on the bar top loudly, “how many times have we talked about this? We are not weaponizing anything of the sort. I don’t want to hear talk like that again outta ya. We’re not starting a war down here in the Lanes and that’s final.”

“We’re already at war or weren’t you paying attention?” You ask bluntly as both men pause at your words. “Oh, I see. You weren’t.”

Silco says your name in warning, “Explain yourself.”

You swallowed, wishing you hadn’t drained your drink so quickly as the tale you began to lay out seemed to sober you up as you spoke, “The Lanes have been restless for a while. This hasn’t gone unnoticed by the guard, let alone the council. More and more restrictions are being placed upon those that live below. The other day I overheard they were contemplating enforcing a curfew to halt all traffic across the bridge at dusk until dawn,” the two men exchanged a look before you continued. “Zaunites are getting tired of the treatment they’re receiving and some have lashed out when confronted by Enforcers, resulting in a surge of Trenchers ending up imprisoned in Stillwater—or worse, they just go missing, never to be heard or seen from again. Within the Enforcer ranks there are some elitists that believe that Piltover is being held back by the Lanes and that eradicating us off the face of the realm would be in everyone’s best interest. Whether it’s been an outright declaration or not, war is here. Piltover’s just trying to be quiet about it.”

With that, you stopped to gauge the men in front of you and their reactions. Neither of them seemed too terribly surprised, but a grim look crossed both their faces as they once again took to a silent communication between the two of them. The atmosphere of the entire conversation shifted and any levity that the three of you had been maintaining seemed to evaporate. The weight of what was to come and how you now found yourself aligned with a group that was somewhat publicly known as being outspoken against Piltover and attempting a rebellion, you suddenly felt hit you like a ton of bricks. Alone, you’d never been a big enough threat and could maneuver without as much worry, but now…now, potentially, you had stepped into something that felt far larger that you’d originally thought through. When Vander shifted to refill your drink again, knowingly in light of things, you placed your hand over the glass to stop him.

“I probably should eat something before I have another if I’m to be in good enough shape to be of help when Silco and I go out to port,” you said in a small voice as you avoided their gazes a bit, still absorbing.

You felt Silco’s eyes analyze you for a long moment before he spoke, “I’ll swing her by Jericho’s on the way over, Vander. It’s on the way.”

Vander merely grunted in acknowledgement as he poured himself a glass and proceeded to down it in one large gulp, “Speakin’ o’which, you best get moving soon if you’re to catch the shipments before close, this evenin’.”

“Quite right,” Silco says as you still feel his eyes scrutinizing you as you stare at the empty glass in front of you. He then proceeded to finish his drink in one go and then stand and gently taps your upper arm. “Come on. We’ll head through the main strip before we take the back alleys to get to the port.”

Silco starts towards the front door of the establishment and you turn to follow when Vander comes to grab your hand before it leaves the bar top.

“Help with this and do a good job and there’s more work helpin’ the cause when ya get back. Make sure that one comes back in one piece, too, understood?” He requests of you seriously as he nods his head in Silco’s direction.

“Of course.”

“There’ll be a drink waitin’ fer ya when ya get back, as well,” he winks and you only half-smile as you remove your hand from his grasp and head towards the door where Silco had stopped to wait for you.

“What was that about?” He asked as you exited The Last Drop with him and attempted to match his long strides as he led you down to the main street within the heart of Zaun where the bazaar was that held the majority of the food vendors. You found your shorter legs had to work twice as hard to keep up with his long, brisk strides.

“He told me I needed to keep an eye on you,” you said with a wide grin as he gave you a look.

“Did he now?”

“I mean look at you. You’re a twig. Anyone could snap you in two just by looking at you funny.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmhmm,” you tease, the grin growing wider and you stuck your tongue out a bit to him.

“I’ll remember that the next time I have to save your reckless ass.”

“I’m not reckless,” you said in mock offense and Silco actually stopped, crossed his arms, and leveled you with a look. “I’m not. I’m just…overly…excitable, that’s all.”

“Excitable?”

“Passionate, maybe is a better word.”

“So you’re blaming your passion for almost getting yourself killed now twice since we met?” He asked and motioned for you to continue to follow him as you both began to near the bazaar area, the hint of music and smells of various cooked foods invading your senses.

You shrugged, “Eh.”

Silco rolled his eyes and then turned to a more serious tone with you as you both blended into the crowd in front of the vendors, “All joking aside, you really do need to watch out more for yourself. You may be used to going it alone, but if you are to join us in bringing Zaun and all its sons and daughters their freedom, you need to be more careful or you may not only get yourself hurt or killed, but you may take us down with you in the process.”

“Awe, I thought for a second there you were worried about me,” you attempted to lighten the conversation.

Unfortunately for you, Silco wasn’t in a mood to make light of anything as he turned and you ran into his chest. He grabbed your shoulders, moving you back a ways, so you’d look him square in the eye as he said your name, “Can you for one second stop joking around and listen to me? This isn’t funny. Zaun’s future depends on everyone being reliable and giving their all. You were right, back there. We’re in a volatile time between Piltover and the Lanes which means that one wrong move and the silent war you described would be silent no more and Zaun isn’t ready for that. It would be a massacre.”

“I know.”

“Then do you understand?”

“Yes. I understand. I’ll do my best to curb my reckless ways,” you said and he eyed you as if he didn’t quite believe you. “Look, I wasn’t kidding when I’d said I’d been alone for a long time. When you’re used to only being responsible to yourself then that allows a level of operating freely. I understand what I’m getting into here, Silco. Let me be perfectly clear about that and I would never do anything to jeopardize you, your brother, or anyone else that is a part of this group. I want to see a free Zaun.”

Silco’s face softened a bit as his hands slid down the side of your upper arms, “I believe you do and I believe you would do everything in your power to keep us safe. I’m asking you do the same for yourself.”

A sympathetic look crossed his face as you took in his words. Silco then took you by the hand and led you up to the counter in front of Jericho’s. Much to your amusement, it appeared when Jericho spoke a greeting to you both when you arrived, that Silco either didn’t understand him or ignored it. When you waited for Silco to order and Jericho asked him a question and Silco’s reply was completely off base, you grinned and knew. You leaned over and placed your finger across Silco’s lips to his utter surprise and annoyance before speaking in Jericho’s native tongue to him and finishing out the order for the both of you. The look on Silco’s face of utter disbelief and the broad grin from Jericho at your speaking in his native language made it all worth it.

Before Silco could even attempt to, you pulled a few coins from your pocket and set them on the counter in payment to Jericho with a wink and a thank you, again in his native tongue, as you then looked expectantly to Silco who shot you an incredulous look.

“What?”

“Thank the man,” you order as you suck the meat from the shell of a piece of fish you grabbed out of the bag and lick your fingers.

Silco swallowed and attempted his best mimicking of the thank you to him that you’d previously uttered and Jericho smiled broadly.

“Well done!” you said as you slapped Silco lightly on the back in appreciation before handing him his bag of food.

“Where did you learn to speak his language?” Silco asked once you’d moved a bit out of the main crowd as he picked at his food a bit.

No wonder you’re as skinny as a beanpole.

“Just something I picked up. I speak a few languages of the folk that travel in and out of the Lanes. Got a good ear for it. Makes it easier when I need to negotiate for things,” you shrugged and finished off the remainder of the food within your bag before crumpling it up in your hand.

Silco then angled his bag towards you in offer, “I’m not terribly hungry, would you like the rest?”

“You sure about that, Twiggy?” You asked with a grin and Silco glared daggers at you and shoved the bag into your hands. His demeanor suddenly changed though as you watched the corners of his mouth twitch to hide a laugh. You suddenly became self-conscious, “What do I have something on my face?”

“Perhaps,” he said calmly with a shrug as the corners of his mouth turned up even more.

You wiped furiously at your face with the sleeve of his shirt you were wearing and his grin widened, unable to be hidden, “Damnit, Silco, just tell me where it—“

You froze as he reached forward with his finger and swiped at the corner of your mouth. Silco then made a lewd show of licking off his finger with a pop. 

“There, all better,” he said with a knowing grin before he turned to walk in the direction of the sky port. 

It may have taken an embarrassing few moments to collect your senses enough to follow him.

The sky ports were a massive construction within Piltover that allowed for the import and export of everything under the sun coming into the great city. You remembered as a child being fascinated with airships and would watch them from the rooftops sometimes in awe as they would travel in and out of port. Today, you not only found yourself crossing the bridge into Piltover, something you generally tried to avoid unless the business need absolutely left you no other choice, but also coming up close enough to see the intricate details of the ships at bay. You’d been to the port before, but never this close to the ships as there was never a need. Silco guided the both of you to duck behind a grouping of crates off to the side as you both surveyed the area so you could tell exactly what you were dealing with.

“I’d thought you’d said they’d tripled the guard,” you began in a whisper as you elbowed him in the ribs and gave him a glare.

“I did.”

“This is more than triple, Silco. What the hell is going on here?”

“Well, that’s what we’re here to find out, now isn’t it?”

You sighed through your nose and shook your head, “Fuck, I need a cigarette.”

Silco chuckled darkly right before he suddenly came alert and motioned for you to duck down further behind the crates as an Enforcer’s patrol came closer to where you both were. You winced in a bit of pain, your stitches reminding you of your injury from earlier, as you crouched down under some tarp that was lain across the crates you and Silco were behind. Silco gave you a concerned look when he caught the pain flicker across your face before he squeezed in beside you, also under the tarp as you both waited. The agony of the odd position you were in and your injuries was only deepened when you caught the whiff of tobacco smoke wafting over near you both.

The two Enforcers had come over here on a smoke break.

Of fucking course.

“How much longer do you think we’re all going to have work extra shift like this?” One of the Enforcers, a young man, asked the woman who stood beside him as he lit her cigarette for her.

“Who knows,” the woman said as she exhaled smoke. “I’m tired of this gig already, though. I didn’t sign up to babysit construction materials and equipment. Where’s the action in that, huh?”

You and Silco exchange a glance as the Enforcers continue their conversation.

“I know, right? A bunch of lumber and supplies. I mean—honestly, do they think those stupid Trenchers care about this kind of stuff enough to need this kind of a protection detail? Piltover’s building all the time, so this isn’t anything new. It’s just weird if you ask me,” the man said as he finished his cigarette and stomped it out on the ground beneath his boot.

“Well—and you didn’t hear this from me,” the woman started before she leaned over to the man’s ear to continue. “I heard its more than just building materials. I heard its jewels.”

“Jewels?!” The man asked loudly in surprise before his counterpart shushed him.

You felt Silco’s hand find your shoulder and squeeze it at the mention of the jewels.

“Shut up, you idiot! You want to get us both in trouble?” The woman started before she continued in hushed tones. “Yes, jewels. Loads of them, imported from somewhere on the outskirts of Runeterra from what I gathered. Supposed to be worth a fortune. I also heard they’re being brought to the Academy. Being used in experiments or something.”

“Experiments?”

As the two were conversing, you slowly began to open a compartment on the heel of your boot. Silco caught the movement and watched silently as his brows furrowed, wondering what you might be up to as he still listened intently to the conversation evolving in front of you both.

“Yeah, it’s still all tied to that big new academy wing their building though, supposedly. Oh, and to use against those filth trenchers, too,” the woman said as you both overheard her take a long inhale and exhale of her cigarette.

Quietly, while still keeping one eye towards where the Enforcers were at, you then slid the blade that was affixed to the end of your braid into the compartment now opened in your bootheel. Once you removed it again, being careful not to touch yourself or Silco, you then slid the compartment closed. Just as you began to lean forward to maneuver past Silco, you feel his hand clamp down on your arm in an iron grip. You look up to find his eyes staring furiously back at you as you attempt to pull your arm out of his grip to no avail.

“Pfft,” the man says. “Probably all of this is just one more fancy thing for the Council. Jewels will be someone’s window décor or something for the wing.”

“I dunno,” the woman said in a sing-song voice. “I heard it’s magic.”

You glare angrily at Silco and the two of you proceed to have a silent war between each other, mouthing words back and forth.

Let. Me. Go, you begin.

What the fuck is this?! He mouths, over-enunciating his words so you could understand without him actually needing to speak aloud. You got the point.

You shake your head at him, knowing that you’d never be able to silently convey what exactly the substance now that glazed the tip of your blade was or what you were getting ready to do. Instead, you glanced up at him, into those oceanic eyes of his and simply mouthed one word:

Trust.

Silco stared at you for several long moments as you both heard the Enforcers near you chuckling at the very idea that magic was involved. When he eventually let up his grip on your arm, you nod in appreciation to him before motioning for him to stay back. You could scream with how much pain your midsection was in with the position you were in, much like a stalking cat, as you made your way to the space where to crates corners met, right behind where the two Enforcers stood. You heard Silco make a small noise of surprise as he watched you then swiftly swipe and cut at the backs of both of the Enforcers’ ankles. The two only had time to gasp before the both of them dropped in a crumpled heap to the ground. You immediately move around the outside of the crates, taking a quick look to make sure the coast was clear, and then proceed to pull one of the Enforcers back around the crates and out of view.

“Well, are you going to help me or not?” you ask as Silco spurs into action and brings the other one around the crates as well.

You then feel something cold come up under your chin as you find Silco’s dagger suddenly pressed into your throat, “I warned you about killing. What the hell were you thinking?”

“They’re not dead, you idiot. Now get that thing off my neck before I use my blade on you as well,” you ordered and glared at him as you made sure you saw you had your blade now pointed towards his forearm.

“If they’re not dead then what is this that I’m looking at?” he asked as he removed his dagger but kept it in hand.

“It’s a paralytic toxin of my own design,” you begin as you then wipe your blade on your trousers before then proceeding to start to strip off the woman’s uniform. “Hurry up. This will only give us about an hour before they wake up and alert others. It will give us enough time to slip into their uniforms so we can get a closer look at things.”

Silco curses under his breath and runs his hand back through his hair in frustration before setting into action to remove the uniform from the man in front of him. With only the sounds of shuffling of clothes and buckles surrounding you, the two of you wordlessly manage to get the uniforms removed. As you pulled his shirt off over your head, you heard Silco utter your name softly, but with some urgency, getting your attention. You followed his eyes to your torso where there was a light line of red down the center of the bandaged area. 

Shaking your head, you sighed, “Looks like the big one didn’t hold up.”

Silco reaches for you, as if he was getting ready to check the stitches and says your name before you grabbed his hand and stopped him.

“We don’t have time. I’ll be fine.”

“You are certain?” he began as he pulled his own shirt over his head to remove it and you got a full view of lean muscle, scars, and long lines.

Suddenly your throat was dry.  “Y-Yes. I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with,” you stammered a bit, distracted by seeing so very much of his skin, before you pointedly look away to finish dressing.

You took the pack that the woman was wearing and stuffed yours and Silco’s old clothes into it once you both were dressed.   Slinging it over both your shoulders you reached down to pull from your own boots that you still wore, your nebulizer. After giving it a good shake for several seconds, you inhaled deeply and waiting to feel your lungs open a bit.

“That going to be a problem?” Silco asked as he noticed him place the hat of the uniform upon his brow.

“Nope. That’s why I’m getting ahead of things and taking a dose before we set out to play pretend,” you say with a grin as you then looked over to him…and proceeded to snort a laugh.

Never in all your days had you seen a more ridiculous sight than Silco’s long, wavy hair spilling out madly beneath the hat that had been rammed over it atop his head.

“What?” he asked, offended.

You shook your head and walked over behind him, “Nothing, but if I had a camera right now, you’d never in a million years be able live down this moment. Especially if I showed Vander the picture. Come here, let me fix this in a bit more proper fashion so you don’t look like a wild beast in Piltoverian clothing.”

Silco held his head back a bit as you pulled one of the bands from your braid off and used it to pull his hair into a low ponytail before placing the hat back upon his head.

He turned around and spun in a circle with his hands wide for you to look him over, “Satisfied?”

“Hmm. I’m not sure if that’s the word I’d use, but you look presentable now, so yes,” you said with a wink before grabbing one of the Enforcer’s rifles and slinging into place within the pack on your back. “Shall we?”

Silco grabbed the other rifle and slung the strap of it over his shoulder as he came up to walk beside you and you made your way deeper into the port together, attempting to blend in. 

“So you’d say your not satisfied?” Silco started with a slight smirk in attempting to make some small talk—either out of nervousness at the situation, an attempt to blend in with the other officers, or just a blatant ploy to get under your skin, you weren’t sure.

“No, a man in uniform doesn’t really do it for me, if that’s what you’re asking, darling,” a cat-like grin formed upon your lips as the two of you kept walking.

Out of the corner of your eye, his lopsided smile began to creep up his face to match yours before he spoke, “So then what does satisfy you, sweetheart?”

“Where’s the fun in telling you? I’d much rather you—” you began before another officer walked up to the two of you and stopped you.

“Just where do you two think you’re going?” the stout man asked as he crossed his arms and halted you both from moving any further.

Silco and you exchanged a look before he shrugged. “Well, officer, we were going over to that ship as we’d been ordered by Sheriff Grayson over there,” Silco began as you tried very hard to not act surprised as he motioned over to a crowd of Enforcers a long ways away from where you three were, “before we were so rudely interrupted. Clearly, you don’t recognize either of of us…and you are?”

By the time he’d finished speaking, Silco had stood to his full height which was a full head taller than the man in front of you as he leered down his nose at the him with an air of superiority. You had to admit, getting a look like that from Silco felt intimidating, to say the least, and it wasn’t even directed at you. Playing along, you leaned up to Silco’s ear and pretended to whisper something while you both kept an eye on the man.

“Hmm, indeed,” Silco answered a pretend question out loud.

“Yes,” you used your best Piltie accent. “Though, I don’t believe we should reveal too much to this officer, Captain, especially since he seems very much to not be in the know.”

“Agreed.”

The man in front of you come suddenly to attention and stood and granted Silco a salute. “Captain, I do apologize, sir, it won’t happen again. I was merely advised to keep officers away from this particular shipment to ensure,” he began before he leaned in and whispered as if revealing a secret, “that no one could spread rumors about its cargo.”

“And you felt that telling us this was advisable when you have no idea who we are, officer?” Silco continued in the tone he’d used previously that seemed to have the man before you shaking in his boots as his eyes grew wide.

“Oh! I’m terribly sorry, sir, I wasn’t thinking. I was—by Janna, I mean, its my third week here and I—please, please don’t go saying anything to Grayson. She’d have me behind a desk!”

You watched as Silco’s eyes narrowed at the man, as if considering his punishment. “Very well. I’ll let this slide just this once, but do not mistake this for leniency, officer. I want to make sure we’re setting a fine example of security for Piltover in this effort. Do we have an understanding?”

“Y-Y-Yes.”

“Yes…what?” Silco drawled as he had the audacity to proceed to light a cigarette from his pocket and then exhale smoke into the man’s face through his nose.

“Oh, oh, yes, sir.”

“Good boy,” Silco said as he walked past and you followed him with a nod to the man. You both walked together in silence for a while as Silco led you up the gangplank of the ship that you’d used as your cover story.

Once you both reached a spot where you were no longer visible, you let out a long sigh accompanied by a laugh, “I underestimated you, darling. That was brilliantly played. Are you sure you don’t have that formal education we’d talked about? Maybe someone in theater?”

“Shut up,” he gave you a half-hearted glare as you noted the slight uptick of his scarred lip.

“So why this ship?” 

“What?”

“Why did you use this ship for our cover? Any particular reason or did you just pull that out of your ass?”

Silco leveled you with the same glare he’d previously given the officer and paused for a moment before answering in a serious tone, deadpanning, “I pulled it out of my ass.”

You both stared at each other for a few seconds before laughing, “I knew it.”

“In all seriousness,” he began as his laugher died down and he began to look around. “I actually did have a point in using this ship in the dialogue. As we were bantering—“

“Flirting—“

“Bantering,” Silco clarified to you as you grinned at the tease, “our way up here, I’d noticed that all of the foot traffic of loading and unloading the cargo were from the other few ships here in port. Yet, this one seemed to have the heaviest guard.”

“I caught that, too. I also caught that it seemed like maybe the guard at front were waiting for something…or someone, for that matter,” you made your way over to the doorway the led into the ship’s hull. “So we may wish to hurry things along before we have company, I’d say.”

“Agreed. I’ll take topside, you look in the cargo hold, but don’t dally.”

“‘Dally’? Honestly, Silco, who talks like that?”

He breaths your name out his nose in frustration as you gave him another shit-eating grin, relishing in just how easy it was to get him ruffled, before you ducked below deck to take a look around. You found yourself in near-complete darkness upon shutting the door behind you. Quickly, you find your lighter within the pack and light it as you descend the stairs. Spying a lantern off to the side upon a desk, you make your way over and light it in order to illuminate the space before you. The ship itself wasn’t large, by any means, and so the hold you found yourself in wasn’t this vast space with a lot of areas to hide things. The area itself was likely no larger than the main space of The Last Drop, you’d surmise, as you began to look around. 

You jumped when you heard a voice that you’d not heard in a long while call out your full name.

“You don’t belong here, my dear,” a very tired, beaten down Petyr Singed said from within a holding cell off to the side of the space.

With a gasp, you ran over to kneel in front of him in the cage he was held within, “Petyr, I was just talking about you a while ago! What are you doing here?!”

The older man looked up into your eyes and his own held tears, “Punishment that I deserve.”

“No, they cannot do this to you. I won’t let them,” you swear as you rummage through your pack and pull out a small metal lock pick from your old pants and begin to attempt to pick the lock on the cage door.

His long, cold fingers wrapped around one of your hands through the cage bars as he shook his head at you, with a sadness, “Orianna…my little girl, my only child, she’s…she’s gone. It’s my fault, you see. That’s why I’m here, among other things.”

“Oh, Petyr. Petyr, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

“I told them it was an accident. One of the experiments the Council had me working with Professor Heimerdinger. It was supposed to help people,” he began as he wiped at the corner of his eyes. “To heal people…”

“Petyr—“

“She was dying,” he said with a fire behind his eyes as he looked at you with conviction. “It..it should have saved her. It would have saved her. He didn’t understand. Tried to make me slow down, to stop. Said it was wrong. Unnatural, was the word he used. And then…oh, my Ori…”

You reached through the bars and placed your hand on the side of his face, “Petyr, I’ve known you and your daughter for a very long time. You’ve done nothing but try to help every person who’s lives you touched. Whatever this is that caused them to lock you up, whatever you believe you deserve, you would never try to hurt anyone. Let me free you. I can get you out of here and we can figure this out together.”

His clammy cold hand came to rest beside yours on his face, “Your breathing’s gotten worse, hasn’t it? I can hear it rattling when you speak. When you breathe…That’s why you’d been talking about me. Isn’t it?”

The whiplash of a conversation change had you stop and shake your head. There wasn’t time for this, you thought, as you ignored his question and started once again to try to open the lock. With a satisfying click, it unlocked after a few moments and you pulled the lock off and moved to open the cage door. Suddenly, you froze, and so did Petyr, when you both heard footsteps begin coming down the stairs behind you. Quickly, you snuff out the lantern and roll behind the cage he was held within and lay flat upon the ground. In the darkness, you hear him shift in front of you where his body would hide you behind him as your eyes began to slowly adjust to the dark. You hear the clicking of boots on the wooden floor of the hull moving towards you before a male voice curses under his breath. A shuffling noise briefly occurs before you hear the striking of a lighter and light illuminates the room, once again.

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