Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The season closed in fire. Arson was its name.

For an entire month, the smell of sulfur and smoke tinged with melted iron clung to your nostrils as you bandaged up burn victims of the Undercity. You returned at least once a day to help with ongoing treatment, cleaning and redressing wounds. After the onslaught of each incident, you were pretty sure you preferred the regular smog of the Gray compared to the smell of charred flesh that made your stomach turn.

First, there was one of Silco's last few remaining Shimmer factories, which wasn't a factory at all, but a lab hidden inside an innocuous pawn shop. Some kids - from those just learning the sprawling network of "safer" routes through Zaun to those leaving adolescence, well-practiced in outrunning both enforcers and gangs - had stumbled upon it and set fire to the place of their own accord, taking after the precedent that the Firelights had set.

Then, there were 3 days of riots.

A whole section of the Promenade level was left burnt to a crisp after the Council in Piltover had voted against safer mechanisms to bring cleaner air to Zaun and streamlining health initiatives that would address the effects of the poor air quality. Instead, they chose to funnel that money into their defense budget against further attacks from Noxus, leaving Zaun's needs on a waitlist, yet again.

You didn't know which incident was worse, but both hit home in separate degrees.

You caught sight of Ekko during the first incident. While nearby Zaunites dragged the kids out of the burning building, you helped transport them to a designated makeshift safe area to triage and tend to the worst of the burns. He had been among the Zaunites running into the burning building; he must have been roaming on his hoverboard when he caught sight of the blaze. He had passed you a kid, coughing violently through the handkerchief Ekko must have wrapped around the kid's face to mitigate smoke inhalation, onto your waiting stretcher. You made brief, bewildered eye contact - both surprised and not surprised to see each other outside of official Firelight capacities - before nodding at each other and continuing to move. His eyes were all dark circles under abandoned melodies, and he looked thinner than when you'd seen him last.

Without speaking, you knew you both had ended that day with guilt weighing heavy on your shoulders.

Was it the Firelights' lack of presence on the ground that brought upon their actions?

Or would it have come to this regardless?

The riots, at least, you had expected.

Karma had tipped you off as soon as she heard the Council's decision from Sevika, so you had organized with Zaunites living along and on the outskirts of the Entresol, teaming up with those who had medical experience to setup nearby safehouses in shops, stalls, bakeries, mech workshops - any available space willing to be on standby to treat the injured. On the second day of the riots, you saw Scar and the other Firelights - Adjani and Kimani from the medic team - in the air and on the ground. You had a strange moment of déjà vu, bringing you back to the day the Firelights found you and your family taking cover during rampant Chembaron attacks on the Entresol. You remember being eighteen and seeing the rebel groups' animalistic masks, as if carved from bone, and getting flashbacks of your time in the forests of Ixtal.

Time seemed to circle and spiral around itself during that chaotic month.

Everything felt like a memory inside of a memory.

To stay afloat, you built rituals out of the old and new: eating regular meals with your circle of Firelights, a mixed bag depending on schedules, but at least two of you shared meals once a week now; and stealing some comfort with Ray, which had progressed to hooking up after Sunday food distros and finding the occasional quiet spots on your patrol routes to make out like you were teenage dirtbags again. It was silly and fun and kept your nervous system regulated for sure, which was pretty much all you could handle at the moment.

It was on a lazy Sunday afternoon, Ray doing their best to persuade you to crash a little longer, and you laughing and extricating yourself from getting their hands on you - in you - again, when you ran into Ekko a second time.

You shut the door to their quarters, keeping an eye out for nosy Firelights in the vicinity, and then quickly rounded the corner to the fourth level stairs.

"Fuck," you breathed, stopping in your tracks with barely a second to spare before you would have knocked straight into the Firelight leader.

"You scared the shit out of me, Ekko."

You were preparing to sidestep him and keep walking when a phantom white glow grabbed your attention from the corner of your eye. At first you thought his locks were glowing, but once your brain processed the image, it almost looked as if the skin along Ekko's neck was shining in thin, silvery rivulets up his throat. You did a double take, pausing in front of him on the landing. His deep brown skin looked smooth and normal, maybe a touch sun-kissed from flying around and hanging on rooftops lately. Whatever you thought you saw was gone.

He blinked several times. "No, Jinx, I - I - I-"

"What?" you said sharply.

Ekko squeezed his eyes shut, like he was trying to get his head clear and his vision to focus. He startled, finally noticing that you were standing in front of him.

"Fuck," he cursed, folding forward over his knees, his hands gripping his thighs and suddenly panting for breath like he'd run all the levels of Zaun in one go.

"What the hell - are you okay?" you asked, reaching a hand out to his shoulder. You had momentarily forgotten you weren't speaking to him.

"No -" His voice shook. "No - no - no - fuck! This should not be happening again."

"Hey, look at me," you said, gently lifting his head up to meet your eyes. "You're safe, okay? You're right here, at our tree in the Firelight base. Nothing's gonna hurt you right now."

Probably. Ninety-nine percent chance if your shared history of success as a growing hideout for Zaunites seeking refuge meant anything.

"I can't -" Ekko gasped, his eyes wild as he looked up at you. "I can't do this again."

You continued soothing him with your voice and hands, massaging circles across his upper back to ground him. He took a step closer, leaning his arm and forehead against your shoulder until his breathing began to steady.

"Can't do what?" you repeated at length. You looked around the balcony, no one else but you and him outside. "Do you want to sit?"

Ekko shook his head.

Then he slumped down against the wall, coming to a seated position at the top of the landing.

"I keep seeing her," he said, like it was wrong.

"Seeing...Jinx? Like flashbacks?" You sat down carefully on the ground next to him.

"No, like literally seeing her, in person - I think it's some remnants of the anomaly," he breathed out, almost like a sigh of relief, like he'd been holding the weight of this theory in for a long time and was finally letting it touch air. Those quick, sturdy hands were spider-gripping the ground on either side of him, slightly trembling.

"The anomaly?" you repeated slowly. "Like from HexTech? The HexCore?"

"Yes," he said, eyes widening in silent horror. "I can't keep doing this."

"When you say 'seeing in person,' you mean...?"

"Like I get...pulled into another dimension. An alternate universe. I can physically move around there and everything I touch is...real. Tangible. The people I see - they're flesh and blood. That's what it was like the first time, before Piltover. There's a whole multiverse of different versions of us out there."

You let that sit for a moment. It was hard to imagine, but it did sound like what Ekko had explained to all of you before. How it played with your reality.

He eyed you warily, like he was measuring your capacity to accept the extraordinary.

"I didn't go into detail with everyone before," he added, "Too much to explain and not enough time to persuade you all I wasn't losing it."

You nodded patiently. You had seen plenty across Runeterra - there was nothing outside of your realm of possibility.

"Okay...so how many times has this happened? And has it only been since Piltover?"

"That's the third time I've seen her," he said. His body gave an involuntary shiver like he was drowning in ghosts. "She's different - every time she's different."

He didn't answer your other question, but trauma and crisis training told you not to push yet.

"That's...not normal," you muttered quietly, starting to put the pieces together. This must be what Sinth had been talking about the last time you were out together. "It's almost sounds like you're...glitching?"

Ekko gave a shaky laugh. It sounded hollow.

"Glitching sounds about right. That's what it feels like. I'm not gone physically like I was, before we got rid of the HexCore. I'm pretty sure my body is still like, physically here? It just comes in blitzes. Sporadic. I don't know it's gonna happen until it's happening."

He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his forehead against his legs, looking like he might keel over from a gentle gust of wind.

He needed rest.

A whole lifetime of rest.

You let him settle back into himself, into his body, letting the silence stretch its legs between you. Down below, you could see Firelight families walking quickly between buildings within the encampment. For a moment, you wondered at the fact that no one was sporting injuries, burned flesh under wraps. Then you remembered the fires had happened outside of base, amongst the rest of the local Zaunites.

Something about that didn't sit right with you.

It was also a sign that you really needed a palate cleanse. Just the memory made you taste smoke in your throat and threaten your eyes with tears from the burning.

Based off Ekko's weather-worn disposition, it seemed you both had been busy getting pulled elsewhere, out of your normal trajectory.

"I guess there isn't really a normal anymore," you said quietly, letting your resentment taste the air.

"Has there ever been?" His voice was small, slipping through the spaces between you and him that were left bruised and untouched.

"I like to think there was a time," you said, eyes distant. "We had a routine going. We were building steadily. For years. We knew who our enemies were."

That last part sat bitterly in your mouth.

"And now everything's been ripped away over time, scattered like it never mattered," he said solemnly. You thought he was talking about his real ghosts now, not just the anomaly glitching. The people lost, the wounds earned, the places between his ribs that bled and never stopped bleeding.

"They matter," you said firmly, eyebrows frowning down at him. Now you felt like Scar, displeasure pulling tension across your forehead. "I know things have been kind of...shit. But don't let that take away the meaning you've carved out of this hellhole. The things you created with your own hands. With the choices you've made. Even if they don't last."

You knew this truth down to your core. Like your family, it was a belief that kept you whole. If you had given up hope every time you had lost, been driven out, forced to start again, you wouldn't be here.

You'd be dead.

Or worse - compromising and letting yourself be used by those in power - without resistance. Just going along with it. Succumbing. Dead inside.

But you weren't.

"Even if the things we love come and go," you said adamantly. "That rage, that grief, that love we carry...it tells us that it mattered. And it still matters - maybe just in a different way. I know it's exhausting. But you have to find a new way to carry it."

He sat in the wake of your words, letting them wash over him. His eyes stared out past the balcony, past the base, it seemed.

"Do you think things will ever be...okay between us?" His gaze shifted towards you, then at the ground. The ache in his voice matched the ache in your chest.

So he was present enough to pick up on the sour edges of your voice.

You paused, letting the feelings rise to the surface. The initial ones, knee-jerk, reactive, distorted in color by trauma and the ones that left you yearning at night when you were alone. You waited more still, sifting through wreckage for the ones that still felt true after giving them all time to whirl around inside you.

"I think..." you said carefully. "There's a way forward, if we both want there to be. If we want to make one."

He was listening and then nodded slowly, weighing your words like maybe there was more to them.

"If and when you're ready to apologize" - your tone teased and leveled him in the same breath - "I should be ready to hear it."

His mouth fell open slightly, like he was jumping to scramble for the words.

"And not right now," you said shrewdly, holding up a hand. Not rude or harsh, just...pausing. "Not because I asked you to."

He closed his mouth, nodding, a small glint of life in his eyes that wasn't there before.

An awkward silence followed.

You let it.

You picked at an invisible scab.

Ekko ran his mouth against the folds in his cargo pants, lips brushing across the fabric in a self-soothing motion, his dark eyes reflecting obsidian again, wide open like he was fighting to stay present. In this moment. Next to you. Like if he closed his eyes for a second too long, he'd get whisked away again.

"So what's she been like?" you asked softly. "Your blue-haired bat from hell."

He huffed a laugh through his nose.

"Still blue," he started, and you lifted an eyebrow. "Still fiery as always."

He glanced over at you, as if checking that you were listening, that you believed him.

"What else?"

"The first time? She was young, the version of her I met in the...timebomb," he said faintly. "I've only seen her like that once." His voice was strained with nostalgia, like this was his favorite version of her.

"Another time, she's older, maybe ten, fifteen years from now. In her thirties."

"Wow," you breathed. "Sounds like a trip."

"It is," he said brusquely. "She knows me every time. A version of me that lives in that timeline with her, I guess. It's never more than a portion of the day. Long enough for me to see how she's doing. What she's been up to."

"And what's she like when she's older?" Your voice was butterfly soft, touching down in a landmine, not sure if you should ask.

"She's tired of me," he laughed, a terrible sadness and longing in his eyes. "We...there's kids."

You blinked.

"No..."

"Yeah." It cracked as it hit air.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly. You thought about pressing your head into his shoulder, just for a moment, like you'd done countless times. You refrained.

"It's...it's, yeah," he said roughly. "Not...meant to be, I guess. Not here, anyway."

You allowed him his private moment of grief, a place where words could not reach. You could only imagine what Jinx and Ekko babies would be like. Wonderful, brilliant, world-ending and world-birthing chaos. None of you would be ready for it.

It was weird, how you could grieve the things that never were.

But for Ekko, maybe it was. It was real, somewhere out there.

"Our timeline's a bitch," you said.

A sound caught in his throat, almost a laugh, almost like choking. He looked at you like he'd like nothing more than to lay all the lifetimes he was carrying down in front of you, shards of a mosaic to piece through together in hopes of clarity.

"There's another one," he continued quietly, "She flew across Runeterra in a stolen mech blimp. She made a home in Shurima."

Stolen mech blimp. Sounded like Jinx.

"Shurima?" you said incredulously, half-baked laughter escaping your mouth. You tried to imagine Jinx, thin and pale and reedy, living in the harsh conditions of Shurima's deserts. "She would hate Shurima. She'd fare better with all the rogues in Bilgewater. Or Ionia, there's a mix of folks there."

He gave a real laugh this time. "You would think, right? I don't know, she seemed to like the change of scenery. And the food."

"Right," you said sardonically.

You exchanged helpless looks that said, What can ya do?

Before long, it was early evening and the sun was beginning to set in Zaun.

"I better get going," Ekko said, pulling himself up to standing. He offered you a hand. You let him hoist you up.

"Thanks for...all of this."

You nodded offhandedly. "So what now?"

He shrugged, unstrapping his hoverboard and kicking it to life. "Dinner. Then, a new day."

You almost rolled your eyes at his sudden nonchalance. Instead, you held out your hand, and he reached out for you. You gave him a squeeze, like this touch alone could keep you all safe before the next time you would meet.

You'd missed him.

"I'll see you around base, or...maybe in the streets." He gave you a pointed look.

You huffed out a sad laugh as he took off. You didn't ask where he was going. You didn't need to.

**

The second time you saw the glitch, you were ready for it. Kind of.

You just...weren't ready for it to be Scar.

Despite being from the islands, there was something about the cool bite of late fall, early winter that made you feel alive. You could start every day with that nip to your skin, the cold splash of air to your face, like it dared you to keep living. It was everything.

You had a lot more pep in your step as you weaved through the streets of the Undercity. You didn't need to use your hoverboard, but the thrill of air rushing through your hair and whipping your clothes in a wild wind tunnel around you was a small pleasure you didn't take for granted.

Also, the smog felt more bearable this time of year, instead of laying thick on top of itself in the summer heat, suffocating what joy could possibly be found when stepping outside. You may have taken some extra loops and turns before coming to a slow dismount near the rusted entrance door you'd marked several wind spirals earlier.

You strapped your hoverboard to your back and knocked the rhythm the kids taught you. You waited a few beats, then heard the faint scrape of another door just beyond the one before you. The door opened and a young Marai girl cracked the door open just enough for light to catch in her aquamarine eyes. The eyes seemed to squint with recognition, and the door fully opened.

"Hey little miss, how're you holding up?" you asked brightly, stepping through the doorway and finding yourself in the hallway of what was supposed to be a multi-storied building housing various businesses. Half of them were closed. The other half broken into by the Lost Children of Zaun.

Yuridice looked up at you listlessly, shrugging her shoulders, arms falling like dead weight at her sides. One arm was wrapped from wrist to elbow from the fire. She must have been around 10 or 11, far past the age of disillusionment with the world for kids who grew up in Zaun, and old enough to feel capable of taking things into her own hands.

She was kinda your favorite.

"Bituan's being a pain in the ass, reorganizing our meal system over and over again. Like if it's not broke, don't fix it!" She rolled her eyes.

"Uh oh, sounds like she's taking on too much by herself," you said thoughtfully, drawing from experiences as a Firelight. "You may have to push for a group solution. You been behaving yourself at least?"

That got a small smirk out of her, the teal fins along her ears fluttering.

"There she is," you said, grinning. Her smirk grew even bigger. "Alright, let's see about these bandages. Oh! And I got something you're gonna like."

Twenty minutes later, after cleaning and redressing the wounds healing nicely and sliding her a small package of pills - her hormones, Ray coming in clutch with their network - you were hopping back onto your hoverboard, leaving with satisfaction knowing that Yuridice's energy felt a little lighter. You were impressed with the way they were taking care of themselves and each other, best as they could. You knew Lest was also keeping tabs on them. You hadn't seen her in a long time either, not since before...that day.

It was nearing midday and Zaun was awake and in full swing. Folks lined up outside food stalls, others haggling down prices of goods in their most compelling voices. Since you were out here, you wanted to stop by Elline's and bring back some pastries. Maybe even save one for Ekko till you ran into him again. You were sure it'd be sooner than later.

You were touching down a few alleyways from the bakery, scouting some Pilties who had just left the shop, when a weird zap of energy seemed to pulse through the air. It made your hoverboard tilt the slightest bit, an invisible wave washing you a few inches from where you'd planned to land. As soon are your feet touched the ground, you immediately pressed your back to the wall, hitching your hoverboard over you shoulder without a sound.

You peered down the alleyway. As far as you could see, you were alone. After waiting a few beats, listening intently, hearing nothing but the unbroken stream of conversations on the main street, you peeked around the corner to get a visual.

All clear. Nothing unusual.

So weird.

You secured your board to your back and kept your guard up while you began making your way into the heart of the Entresol. You had made it past a few shops when your senses tingled and you felt a familiar presence. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a massive shadow that fell from the next alley into the main street.

It bore the unmistakable shape of bat ears, stretching like a pair of fangs across the ground.

You'd only ever met one Chirean of that size and stature. Was Scar following you?

Your eyes narrowed as you crept to the corner of the augmentation parlor next to the alley. You were preparing your words to confront him, quickly growing weary of having to peek around corners like this.

You rounded the corner and - your heart stumbled.

As expected, it was Scar.

Except he was standing there stock still, back almost to the wall, face tilted up to the sky. The same silver rivulets you'd glanced on Ekko, thinking you were imagining things, were glowing like a second layer of veins crawling up Scar's thick neck and stopping just past the sharp line of his jaw, bracketing his mouth.

He didn't turn. Didn't see you.

When you stepped closer, you saw why - his sharp eyes glowed iridescent as always, but with a blinding whiteness that overtook his pupils. His jaw was slack, thin lips parted slightly.

You stared up at him in horror, ice flooding your veins. You reached for him, then stopped just as quickly, your hand hovering a breath away from his chest. You had no idea how this anomaly glitch worked. What if touching him did...something and hurt him?

Ekko hadn't said anything dangerous really happened, but what in janna's name was reliable about a HexCore anomaly glitch?

Heart hammering, you took a step back, never taking your eyes off Scar's face.

"Scar," you whispered, standing straight in front of him. "Can you hear me?"

You felt silly, like this was a half-assed attempt at helping, but you didn't know what else to do. Scar didn't move. It was like his body was locked in position, his hands somehow still gripping the hoverboard securely at his side. You looked back at the main street. A few folks passed in busy groups, but their attention remained within their own business.

You took in a deep breath, trying to keep calm, even as a tenuous tremble, your insides wanting to crumble with despair, shook the air in your lungs. You said it again at a normal volume. Then a little louder.

Nothing.

You took one step closer towards one of his large ears. Standing on tiptoe - still feeling foolish - you whispered closely by his ear.

"Scar." Your breath would have tickled the skin along his earlobe, maybe made him shiver if he were conscious of it.

Shit.

You went into medic mode, circling him carefully, cataloguing any injuries, assessing if anything was off that told you he wasn't safe right now. His breathing was normal, steady. There was a large bruise that looked a few days old, stretching across the skin just below his armpit and disappearing into the gap in his vest that gave you a peek of his firm chest. Not great, but not threatening either.

You wanted to touch him so bad.

Anything could happen, or nothing could. He seemed safe enough right now. This had happened to Ekko multiple times, so you knew he would come out of it eventually, you just didn't know how long it would take. It wasn't worth the risk, even as your fingers itched, just to hold his arm, his wrist, his hand - your touch letting him know he wasn't alone.

You took more deep breaths. Now that the adrenaline was beginning to flatline, you noticed that you could feel a different energy around him. Maybe related to that weird pulse you felt earlier. No, definitely related, you told yourself, coming as close as you could, fingers tracing his outline without touching. At this proximity, you would have felt the heat radiating off his body. He always ran hot. Instead, there was a cool chill floating like small particles of ice ghosting his skin.

The need to touch him grew stronger, like a black hole intent on swallowing.

You didn't know if it was the anomaly or just your own worry. The fact that you couldn't tell did not make you feel any better. What if this thing was trying to pull you in? What use would you be if you were both sucked into some multiverse void?

Would you even end up in the same one?

This was maddening. You've been through hard shit before, you told yourself, steeling your insides. You can wait. It's gonna be okay.

With a heavy sigh, you stood there, crossing your arms, peering up at his glowing white eyes and then looking away. Your heart tugged with fear, but you held. Brought your gaze back. Stayed with him.

Time was moving weird again. This felt like the longest wait of your life, but it couldn't have been more than five minutes that passed from the time you found him to when you decided you could do nothing but wait.

Another minute passed. Maybe two. This was impossible. How long would this take? You regretted not asking Ekko more questions when you had the chance. You had focused on where he went instead of how it worked.

Suddenly, you felt another strong wave of energy pulsing outwards from Scar. It was cool to the touch, up close now, mimicking the crisp air outside. You teetered off balance for a second, like someone had poked you in the chest with enough force to make you stumble, but you caught yourself.

The vivid white glow in Scar's eyes began to dim, fading in mere seconds as if it never were, returning those familiar eyes to their natural, iridescent jade. A shiver ran through him from head to toe. The muscles of his limbs relaxed, his grip on the hoverboard slackening without letting go. He squeezed his eyes shut, the way Ekko had, brows furrowed in a severe V-shape towards his nose.

After a few moments, his eyes opened on yours.

A split second of downloading your presence before recognition flickered in his gaze. His eyebrows did a 180, rising till the furrow moved to a higher point above the marks on his forehead. You could have laughed if you weren't so shaken. He looked surprised - and then, mildly guilty. His gaze flicked away from you. A flush rose to his cheeks.

"Fuck," he muttered. No, he was full on blushing now, looking embarrassed.

That was new. And somewhere in the back of your lizard brain, kind of endearing.

"Hey," you said weakly, offering a small smile. "Nice to see you, too."

He blinked and took a step back, and those broad shoulders hit the wall.

He said your name like a question, like he wasn't sure if you were really there. Just hearing the rough timbre of his voice, your name in his mouth, flooded you with relief.

"Scar," you said softly. The ghost of a flinch. "Where did you go?"

His body stiffened.

A beat.

"How do you know?" he asked carefully, that low, familiar gravel to his voice that you hadn't heard in awhile, waves of smoke ghosting over searing hot coals burning at the base of his throat.

He was coming back in pieces, his sharp gaze now locking in on you the way he did sometimes, when he was trying to pull your thoughts apart with some invisible Vastayan prowess.

"Ekko," you said simply. "I found him" - you gestured at him, head to foot - "similar to this."

A maelstrom of emotions flared through his gaze. Confusion like he was registering that you knew, but not how much you knew. Relief that you had some understanding. Scrutiny - for talking to Ekko, but why? There was hurt there, too - and something else you were starting to form words around. Want. Longing. Sorrow. Grief.

It was too much. Your breath felt shallow in your chest.

"You saw Ekko?" he asked hoarsely. Except it sounded more like, You're talking to Ekko?

But not me. The part he didn't say.

You were slowly starting to remember that you weren't talking to Scar either. You were busy icing him out. And yet all of that had been erased the moment you saw him frozen, possessed by the remnants of Viktor's hivemind catastrophe. You were suddenly grateful you'd caught the glitch with Ekko first - you didn't know what you would have done without some small reassurance that Scar would come back to you.

Grabbed him, probably. Held on and gotten whisked away where you may or may not have been able to follow. The idea of it terrified you, a deep cleft in your chest. A knife slowly pressing between your ribs until you couldn't breathe just thinking about it.

"Ran into him actually - by accident," you emphasized. "He was...not okay. He told me he - went somewhere? Thinks its related to the anomaly. If he's right, I'm hoping it's just a glitch, and not..."

Your voice trailed off. Permanent. If either of them got pulled away, for months or maybe forever, as what seemed to happen to Jayce and Viktor, you didn't think you could handle that.

His eyes scanned your face, measuring, trying to take the temperature of your emotions. He was standing straighter now, taller, peering down at you from the safety of a bird's eye view. You knew it must make him feel more like himself. More powerful and in control.

"I think he's right," he said offhandedly, quietly. A whisper of smoke and ash. "It feels the same."

Your eyebrows raised of their own accord. "Does it?"

He nodded, unlocking now from his fixed gaze on you and taking a quick assessment of his surroundings - the alleyway, the buildings, the number of people on the street, the likely type of business that brought them here. Looking for friend or foe, threats or safety.

Seventy-five percent, you thought. Coming back was a gradual thing for Scar. Ekko seemed to recover much faster.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked, shifting his weight to the other foot and rolling his shoulders back, posturing in a way he never would have before the rupture between you two. He played it innocent, but you noticed he still hadn't answered your original question.

"I could ask you the same thing," you said dryly, cocking an eyebrow at him.

His face stilled, and he just looked at you.

A hundred, you thought. Scar was a terrible liar, when it came to deceiving the people he cared about. He hid behind his silence, using it and his stillness like an impenetrable shield. You could read his playbook aloud in your sleep. In Chirean. And you didn't even know Chirean.

"Are you feeling okay?" Your voice was gentle. You were letting him off the hook, for now.

"Yeah," he said roughly, looking around again. His body was strung with anxiety. "Just takes a few minutes."

You leaned into this opening. "How many times has this happened already?"

He gave you an old look, one you hadn't seen in a long time. Like he couldn't believe you were asking this of him, and yet he couldn't say no to you. Sometimes, you could get him to do almost anything, back when it mattered. It always made you feel pretty smug and powerful.

Was a small part of you looking forward to leveraging this during his current vulnerable state?

Maybe. Yes.

Did it feel good, a little vindictive? Also yes. You never claimed to be a saint.

Another beat passed, and he was still just staring at you. Whatever he didn't want to share yet, it had to be pretty big. Behind that wall of silence, you knew he was begging you for anything but this.

"Scar," you said firmly. It was that tone people used in reprimand, like telling a cat to get off the kitchen counter, and it was stubbornly doing its own thing, pretending it didn't understand you.

For a moment, it brought you back to when you were still teenagers. It was silly, because it always worked. Endearing, lizard brain echoed.

Shut up.

Displeasure pulled at his mouth, but he finally conceded. "Six."

"Six??" you repeated, horrified. "Ekko said it only happened to him three times so far."

He blinked.

"I'm twice his size. More of me to fill up," he joked lightly. "More of me to claim."

Your mouth fell open in disbelief. Was this the right Scar? Did the wrong one come back? Was he okay? He was making no sense. He was joking. Your heartbeat picked up again despite your earlier attempts at staying above sea level.

"Scar," you said firmly again. "Where did you go? Who did you see?"

He side-eyed you. Then his shoulders squared in resignation before nodding his head towards the depths of the alleyway, away from the main street.

We need to walk for this.

You sighed. Followed. Walked.

**

He gave you the breakdown of what had been happening since returning from Piltover. Keeping his body in motion seemed to ease him - and it probably helped not having to face you directly. There was still this weird energy between you, not knowing where you stood with each other in this very moment. You were here, you weren't running, and there was no venom between you two. He threw you a few furtive side-glances as you walked, which seemed to be all he could bear at the moment.

Given the intensity of what you had just witnessed, you were okay with this.

The first time it happened was two weeks after the battle. It had been terrifying for him, because it was in the middle of putting Taya to bed. He came back to her wailing - thank Janna - still held securely in his arms. He had no idea how long he'd been...gone, but after a few more times, he guessed no more than ten minutes in your time.

A wave of guilt washed over you hearing this, needling at your insides. He'd been alone. You'd left him alone, making it clear things were not okay between you when he got back. Ekko hadn't been around much either, Scar making him take leave, so he could grieve through whatever semblance of peace he could find. In the meantime, Scar had taken lead again and stubbornly didn't tell any other senior Firelights what was happening. He didn't even know Ekko was experiencing these glitches, too.

He had carried all of this weight, all by himself, while you were nursing your wounds from his betrayal.

How did things get so fucked up between you?

You walked together until he led you up a fire escape and to the rooftop of one of your best hidden scouting buildings that overlooked the Entresol. You came to a stop at the edge, both of you leaning with your elbows on the ledge, taking in Zaunites of all different genders, races, ages, abilities - some had a penchant for harnessing the power of mech augmentation, sections of their bodies gleaming with iron - going about their day. The air felt heavier up here, being so close to the Gray.

No, that wasn't it. This time of year, the Gray was thinnest.

It was because you and Scar were standing so close to each other. Now that you'd come to a stop, the awkward nerves came back, setting a thick tension between you. The last time you were anywhere near this close to each other...

You balked inwardly, a flush burning your cheeks at the memory, a terrible and completely unnecessary heat swooping in your lower belly.

Fuck.

You swallowed, steeling yourself to get your body and your heart under control. At length, you broke the silence.

"So...are you gonna tell me where this glitch takes you?" you asked lightly, glancing over at him. He kept his gaze fixed on the street below, but his arm, nearly bumping up next to yours, gave a small twitch in response. "Or am I to assume you're coming back perfectly sane the next time this happens?"

Those jade eyes flickered towards you in mild surprise. He let out a breath you could feel he'd been holding.

"If you're around," he said evenly, doubt - or maybe, an unwillingness to hope - curling around the edges of his words. Your stomach clenched. You deserved that one.

"And what if I am?" you challenged, firmly but without any heat.

He looked down at you again through half-lidded eyes that held more sorrow than you could bear to hold. You looked away quickly.

He shrugged, shoulders dropping into their usual hunch.

"Scar." Stop stalling.

He was making you say his name more times than you had in months. Almost like he was doing it on purpose, knowing what reactions he could draw out of you. This dance felt so familiar. Joy, relief, and terror swirled in your chest.

Your fingers jerked involuntarily, wanting to reach out to him, let him know it was okay. But you held back. He caught it though, your movement, the hesitation, the final decision. He watched you for a few more seconds. And then he relented.

"I've seen my family," he said quietly, fixing his gaze forward again.

Your heart squeezed at that.

"They're - we're all together again." He breathed out a weary sigh. "Things are - good."

You nodded, humming softly in understanding, but said nothing, giving him space to take up when he was ready. He flexed his hand, his long, knobby fingers, each knuckle protruding like a warning, splaying open like he'd been asked to hold something incredibly vast, then clenching it into a fist. You bit your lip subconsciously, watching those strong hands. You forgot how much you liked them.

The heat in your belly did not go away. You tore your eyes away before you started sweating.

"I see Trina," he murmured, voice like coals burning the very last of the fire inside them. His large ears pinned back against his head and stayed there. A muscle in his jaw tensed, his fingers twitched in his fist, but he still held.

You barely breathed. The resounding silence was only disturbed by the boisterous voices floating up from the street below. You weren't surprised - you were ready to hear it. If Ekko often saw someone important to him, it would only make sense that Scar would get whisked away to someone as important as Taya's mother.

You tilted your head up towards him, watching him carefully. His breaths were even, but it seemed like any other words he might even want to share next were caught thickly in his throat. The desire to touch him was possessing you like a stake through your spine, pinning you tensely to the ground, rendering you motionless with nowhere to run until you faced it.

Then his shoulders started to tremble, those massive muscles fighting a tremor like an earthquake was leveling the ground he walked on. He wasn't crying, but you could visibly see he wanted to crumble.

You couldn't bear it anymore.

Your body unlocked, your hands moving like instinct to cover his hand, grasping around his palm firmly. He flinched, and you thought he might pull away from your touch, but he allowed it. His hands felt cold - again, so unnatural for him. You peered steadily into his face, his eyes locked on the street below you, refusing to look anywhere else. So you held onto him until the tremors eventually subsided, his hand finally feeling a little warmer in yours.

He took a deep breath, like wind rushing upwards towards a mountain's peak.

"And Taya is older," he blurted out in disbelief, the fire inside him suddenly rekindled. Your mouth opened slightly. "And Trina...knows things about me I never got the chance to tell her myself. It's really..."

He trailed off, switching his gaze to yours like you would know the rest of the sentence.

"Disarming?" you tried, raising an eyebrow, hoping words could make sense of the perplexity on both your faces.

A brief light flickered in his gaze - a memory of warmth, relief at your understanding. The corners of his thin mouth curved minutely, giving you the tiniest of smiles.

You damn well near melted.

He nodded, looking grateful, like you'd given him a gift. This only sharpened the mixture of guilt and a swift thrill blazing through you. How lonely had he been?

Probably as lonely as you, the guilt echoed.

"I can only imagine," you said faintly, looking away before you spontaneously combusted from his gaze on you. You hadn't allowed that warmth near you in what felt like lifetimes, manufacturing a barricade only a Zaunite could build and fortify: a wall of pipes and wooden chairs, scrap iron and sheets of broken glass, guarded with any augmented weaponry that could spit hellfire to keep that warmth from coming close, from singeing you again.

And now it was all coming apart from a single warm glance, the shadow of a smile. You could have cried. This was exactly why you stayed away. To hold onto your own dignity and integrity and pride. To hold onto principle and what you knew you deserved.

Because outside of all those walls, you were weak for him.

You could admit that to yourself now, standing in his energy that somehow always made you feel like you were right where you're supposed to be. If you'd caved, you would have been giving up a part of yourself - and that you weren't willing to compromise. Still, a different wave of heat rose through you, making your face hot.

Shame.

For leaving him to hold it all by himself for months. For not even giving him a chance to apologize or say his peace.

Scar noticed your shift in attention, no longer zeroing in on him, but turning inward towards yourself. Like he knew what you were feeling. Because he kind of always did.

Now it was you who stared down at the street, watching groups of Zaunites pass by without seeing. It felt impossible that just this morning, you had been perfectly fine, moving through life without him. And now you couldn't imagine a life if he had actually been taken away from you. Not dead - but taken. You felt dizzy from hindsight.

After all this time, only now could you truly understand in your bones how he did what he did. The fear that drove him to cut that cord of trust between you. It didn't make it right by any means. But you could see now the greater picture you refused to see before.

And fuck, did it matter.

The sudden warmth of Scar's hand touching yours, holding onto you, pulled you out of your downward spiral. You had completely checked out of the conversation for a moment. You blinked, your eyes just staring at that beast of a hand over yours, claws careful around your fingers.

Your eyes found his.

He was looking at you with so much gentleness, it almost shattered you.

"I'm still in one piece," he said lightly, like that was supposed to comfort you. You almost whimpered. Instead, you nodded your head firmly, forcing yourself back into the moment.

"Good," you breathed. "You...stay that way."

He huffed out a small laugh through his nose. Then he looked away, drawing his hand from yours and holding onto the ledge instead. Your skin burned where his touch had been.

His brows had curved into their usual deep frown now. He was carefully avoiding eye contact again, gaze downcast, like he didn't quite believe the two of you were standing here on this Undercity rooftop outside of base, somewhat amicably, and even - miraculously - giving comforting touch. Like he didn't believe you were tolerating his presence for this long.

Now it was your turn to save this conversation from slipping back into awkward silence, a kind you were afraid could stretch on indefinitely again.

"So what's been happening to you," you started, regaining your voice. "It sounds similar to how Ekko experiences it. Seems like he sees people he cares deeply about" - you didn't mention Jinx, as it wasn't your truth to tell - "like different versions of them at different times. Multiple timelines."

You looked up at him for confirmation and were surprised to see he'd gone rigid. His ears flicked in agitation, claws digging into the concrete ledge.

"Is that how it is for you?"

A pause. Always a pause.

"You could say that," he said, evasively, voice tight in his throat.

You almost narrowed your eyes at him, but you restrained yourself. There was more he wasn't telling you. You wracked your brain, then remembered he had come back out of the glitch maybe an hour ago in that alleyway looking...embarrassed? Guilty?

Oh, now you had to know.

You peered up at him directly, leaning against the ledge, turning your body to face him as you watched him squirm under your gaze. The ease with which you did this was ridiculous. Like riding a bike. Like muscle memory.

"What do you mean?" you said, trying to sound as neutral as possible so he wouldn't run. "Do you see other people? Or like random people? Do you go somewhere...not here?"

Your tone was curious, looking for clarification. That was all.

His eyes widened momentarily, chest rising and falling as he fought to keep his breathing even. You thought maybe his heart was racing, if only you could hear the world the way he did. He wouldn't look at you.

"Hey," you tried, gently, changing tactics. "You can tell me. I need to understand what's happening to you. It kind of...scares me. A lot."

Holy Janna's hell. Your eyes were seeing it, but you brain was slow to process it. A deep flush was rising up those sharp cheekbones, a lovely soft pink that almost matched the color of his nose. His ears twitched, jerking in ways you'd never seen before. The muscles of that wicked jawline tightened, like he was clenching his teeth.

"Are you good?" you asked, biting your lip to keep from laughing and barely able to keep the teasing out of your voice. Whatever it was, he was planning to keep buried deep inside that thick skull of his.

He nodded stiffly. "No, not - random people."

"But other people, yeah?"

He nodded again, a little less stiffly. Then he side-eyed you for a moment, giving you that look again. The one that said, please, literally anything but this. Because you both knew he wouldn't lie to you.

Oh, fuck.

You thought maybe you were starting to put the pieces of his embarrassment and guilt together, your heartbeat picking up again, the heat coming back to flood places in your body that should be staying Shurima desert dry.

Except they weren't.

It couldn't be what you thought, because that would be...too much. You reached for something else, a fire extinguisher before you really had to pull the fire alarm.

"Not random, so like...Ekko? Or other Firelights? Anyone I know?"

Your cheeks were starting to burn. Your stomach was doing back flips. Your heart thumped with insistence, you could feel the reverberations in your collarbone.

"Not - Ekko." His voice came out as a tight rasp, making your eyes widen and stare intensely down at the street yet again. You were fighting a stupid, knowing grin from taking over your face. You wanted to cry. You wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to run.

"But...other Firelights?" you asked, barely above a whisper. The heat was rolling off his body in waves like he'd gone up in flames. Your mouth felt dry.

He nodded slowly. His face was frozen, like he'd been caught and maybe if he didn't move, he'd still get through this unseen.

Yeah, fat chance of that now.

You took one more moment to contemplate your life choices. Like maybe you could stop yourself from what you were going to ask next. You mentally checked off this pause to reflect from your internal healthy habits list, so you could take the plunge feeling guiltless.

Like, you'd really tried your best.

"Do you...see me?"

A question that balanced on the eye of a needle. A question that asked a thousand more.

His jaw clenched again, clamping down hard. You exhaled, a mixture of giddiness and trepidation cut loose from your lungs.

"Scar."

An ear twitch.

More silence.

"Scar."

"Yes."

"Yes, you see me?"

"...yes."

You blinked rapidly, mustering up the courage to steal a glance at him. His mouth was at war with itself, that sly grin, that one that would split his face like a knife fight he'd won, was doing its damn best not to show off right now.

Now your whole body went up in flames.

"Oh."

His confirmation...it felt comforting.

And yet terribly invasive. And you didn't know why the latter turned you on so much, but it did. You felt the gush of warmth flooding between your legs before you could stop it, your body betraying you like it was nothing.

And because you'd learned a little something about your masochistic tendencies over the years, you didn't push any further. For once, you shut your damn mouth. You didn't ask all the questions you wanted to ask: What am I like? How old are we? Where are we? Are we together? What do we talk about AND what the fuck are we doing that has you so twisted up?

Nope, this was enough for today. You needed to cease and desist. You needed a private place to scream.

"It's not bad," he said at length, jaw cracking as he rolled back his shoulders again, finally seeming to shake off the tension, now that the truth was out. The pink flush had spread down his neck and if you stared a second longer, you would lick him in that sweet cove where his jaw met his throat and it just was not the time. Not the time!

You tried to play it cool, even though you were a hundred percent sure he could hear your heart jackrabbiting in your chest.

"Well, that was a bold-faced lie." You meant to sound sarcastic, unimpressed, but it came out more like a tease, wanting to know more.

Cool, so now you were flirting.

What the fuck was wrong with you??

Your tone made him turn to look at you, unable to help himself despite the consistent blush blooming across his face, his neck, his chest. You busied yourself with looking away at the Zaunites opposite his direction, but you knew he caught your reddening face. You knew he could hear your traitorous heart.

It was entirely too hot up here.

Scar must have decided he had the upper hand in this moment, because his cunning eyes were still on you, boring into you shamelessly, and there was nowhere to run. You blinked rapidly, and then rolled your eyes with a flutter, turning back to look at him since he was obviously intent on making his attention on you known.

And then he smiled, that sly grin he'd been holding back. The game of hide and seek was over. He wanted you to see it.

His grin a flame licking heat around your heart, licking you sweetly in the groin.

There was no pretending that the last time you and Scar had spent this much time with each other, you'd been desperately fucking. You could see it in his eyes - the memory swimming languidly in those green tides.

You'd made him cum. He'd been inside you. You'd felt the exact size and heft of his -

"I-" you said hotly. "I had somewhere to go actually."

You knew he knew exactly what you were doing, and you did not care.

"Oh?" he said. He cocked a thin, clever eyebrow at you, leaning his elbow against the ledge, turning all six feet and more of that muscular, dangerous body towards you with unabashed curiosity.

Damn him to every possible hell in Runeterra. Throw him in the Void. May the glitch take him. Janna has fucking forsaken me.

"Yes," you said firmly, unable to stop yourself from grinning stupidly as you started backing away towards the fire escape. "Elline's. I promised...someone."

Okay, you were bad at lying to him, too.

"Right," he said, never taking his keen eyes off of you, amusement playing at his lips.

"Mmhm. You'll get back alright?" There was no saving face, but you had to try.

"Yeah, I'm good now."

Asshole. He was practically chewing on the inside of his cheek with glee. "Gonna hang here for a bit though."

You swallowed. "Cool. I'll...see you around then."

"See you."

It wasn't a question. It was a promise.

You climbed down that fire escape with the last reserves of your composure. You didn't trust yourself to navigate your hoverboard right now. Your feet hit the ground, turned in a direction where he couldn't watch your dumbass retreating, and all but ran away like the fool in love that you were.

**

The heat from that day burned in your memory for a whole week. You considered skipping the weekly meeting to avoid him, but then, not only would it be a second, consecutive meeting you would miss, but you'd be letting him have the upper hand. You couldn't have that either. When you noticed each other's presence in the room, you immediately looked away and starting talking to the Firelight beside you, who looked a little taken aback at your sudden engagement. You could feel his gaze on you the whole time.

Scar had let you run away that day, but only because you both knew he would chase.

Thankfully several weeks passed without incident, giving you time to get your pride back intact and your senses in order.

One day after a skills workshop, Vin had to leave early, so you were left to pack up by yourself. The boxes weren't terribly heavy, but they were bulky with scrap metal, rusted pipe pieces and wiring sticking out, stacked three boxes high. Curiously, none of the older kids were anywhere to be found, and you hadn't been sleeping well, so of course you hadn't had the foresight to ask them ahead of time to stay and help.

You managed to kick aside the "door" at the entrance side of the makeshift community center, which was really an enclave between two thick roots at the back of the central tree, wide enough to fit a few wooden tables across in an arc. The walls were several room dividers comprised of refurbished metal sheets soldered together, with large windows that allowed you to see outside, but not inside (Ekko's design), allowing some privacy. They reflected back like mirrors to those walking its perimeter.

Once on the other side, you nudged the door closed with your foot, placing your weight on the other for balance. Just as you had persuaded it back into place, a large shadow loomed over you and the boxes were suddenly lifted from your arms.

You blinked and saw Scar walking towards the other end of the center, in the direction of the store house, your three boxes unfairly tucked under one arm, held securely against his body.

He turned around, pausing to look at you, arching an eyebrow as if to say, You coming?

You huffed and pulled up beside him, and he started walking again.

"You didn't have to do that," you said, for the sake of your dignity, "My balance is impeccable."

"Yeah," he said. "But I wanted to. Heading that way anyway."

You hummed and lapsed into silence, letting the sounds of the base preparing for lunch filling the space between you, kids running around screaming and laughing while the adult Firelights yelled at them to gather by the kitchens and help out.

Your arms free, you found yourself watching yours and Scar's reflections in the community center windows as you passed. His tall and broad frame alongside your shorter one, rippling with the bends of the room dividers. You wondered how it might look if you transitioned, your own angles sharpening and broadening.

"Still the same as yesterday," he remarked, observing your gaze. "And the day before that."

"Haha," you said dryly.

"Unless you see something I don't?"

"Nah, just admiring the view," you said swiftly, eyes alight but staring straight ahead. You weren't about to share your thoughts about transitioning - things still felt too precarious between you.

"Mmm," he hummed, with an exaggerated air of thoughtfulness. "Yourself, obviously?"

"Obviously." Your cheeks warmed.

"Any particular reason?" His tone was teasing, but there was also something...else there. "Hot date tonight?"

You snorted. "No, you dingbat, you know I'm on patrol tonight."

"Same difference." He side-eyed you. Now your face was hot.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what you think it means." He enjoyed being infuriating sometimes.

"I don't know what you're implying," you said evenly. "But stop implying it."

"Are they at least good in b - "

He didn't get to finish that thought, because you jerked your knee behind his, and he stumbled. Barely, catching himself with ease, the metal pipes clanking in exasperation.

But it was the principle.

"Ass," you said, smirking in spite of yourself. This was the drinking partner you'd missed.

His laugh was pure mirth, rumbling deeply in his chest.

"Jealous?" you quipped before you could stop yourself.

"Maybe. A little."

His laughter quieted. The air shifted between you. You huffed something that mimicked a laugh as more warmth bloomed entire gardens along your ribs. Neither of you made eye contact, gazes straight ahead.

"Anyway, I don't know where you'd get that idea."

"I have eyes and ears everywhere."

"That...should not be a thing."

"Maybe. But it is. For safety."

"Uh huh. Whose safety again?"

You'd reached the store house, a small shed with shelves with everything from medical supplies to random parts and pieces for hoverboard repairs and the like. Since the walls weren't insulated, there was a sharp chill inside as well.

You reached under his arm and extricated the top box, careful not to scrape him or yourself with any of the rough edges. You crouched, nudging a box of coated work gloves aside on the bottom shelf and placed the box down next to it.

"We've been well-stocked on medical supplies this season," Scar commented. "Your doing, I'm guessing?"

"Been spying me?" you teased, turning in your crouch as he lowered the next box for you to take. You shot him a look to let him know you were onto him - he'd definitely been trailing you that day you found him in the alleyway. He looked back, unabashed.

"The point of hoverboards is getting a bird's eye view of the Undercity - fast," he replied. You could hear the smirk in his tone as you tilted the box at an angle so the loose wiring wouldn't catch on the shelf above it. "Wouldn't be doing my job if you flew under my radar."

"Location, sure," you contended. "But activities? That's a little suspect." You heard him breathe out a laugh above you.

"Regardless," he said, glancing over your comment like a disinterested spear. "I'm grateful your pilfering skills have improved."

Your jaw dropped as you gasped at the jab, yet you couldn't fight the guilty smile off your face. You turned towards him, still in your crouch, hands gripping your thighs firmly to meet his accusation head on. You had to pause your restocking for this.

"Sorry stealing wasn't the sharpest of my many skills back in the day," you said, raising a challenging eyebrow at him. His jade eyes gleamed down at you in the dimmed light of the store house, mouth twitching. "I was kind of busy, y'know, being on the run, trying not to die in port towns and jungles and deserts, taking care of my little brothers, and my mom, learning how to hunt, how to spear a fish, how to -"

"Would've been a useful skill to have then," he said easily. You narrowed your eyes at him, and because he often exercised this keen ability to turn you into a petulant, spitting cat, you tugged at the laces of one of his combat boots. They were knotted tight, but your fast fingers made quick work of letting one of them loose.

He gave you an annoyed huff. "Really?"

You stared up at him, waited a beat, then did it again to the other one. He stared down at you, trying to tame his smirk as he measured his words.

"If you wanted to undress me, all you had to do was ask nicely," he said in amusement, a lilt in his voice inviting you to meet his dare.

Your mouth fell open, but no words came out, warmth flushing across your face.

"I did get better," you grumbled, ignoring his suggestive comment and holding your hands out for the last box. "Give me that, you idiot."

He grinned at you, lowering the box into your hands. "Thank Janna - we would have died that winter without all hands on deck."

You pursed your lips shrewdly. "Oh, we could have died plenty of times, what with your reckless ass basically leading Silco's folks to our base more than once. Cuz showing off your new flying skills was obviously more important than our collective safety."

Now his mouth opened guiltily, as you shot him a look that said, Point. You turned and shoved the last box onto the shelf, then carefully rearranged it. You didn't mean to use that much force, but your heart was beating loudly in your chest and the adrenaline needed to go somewhere. You got onto your knees to feel more grounded, then sat back on your calves against the floor to give your thighs a break.

"I was still learning control," he muttered, like that was an excuse. "And the location of the base's drop-in point" -he was referring to the top of the large pipe right above the tree that had remained vulnerably open to the air in those early years- "relative to everywhere else."

"Mmhm," you hummed, unconvinced.

"Flying had that...addictive quality back then," he murmured, quieter now. "Still kind of does."

You sighed, mildly regretting that you couldn't just poke fun at him without touching a sensitive spot. Addiction ran in his family, whether to alcohol or to Shimmer, and was one of the reasons he'd joined up with Ekko and the other original Firelights. Most of them had a history with addiction, whether addicts themselves or impacted through family members. Joining the Firelights had helped him get sober, although he had still struggled with the addictive mindset, replacing the need to numb out pain with other addictions - like flying, or bulking up.

You softened, staring down at the floor and leaning back on your hands, not turning around yet.

"Guess we've both done a lot of growing."

He shifted his weight, an inch closer to you.

"Yeah. Guess we have."

You could feel his intent gaze on you like a beacon lighting up your senses. You pretended not to feel it, nor the heat of his body behind yours in such close quarters. You were wondering how to extricate yourself from this compromising position, when his black boot came across your line of vision, his foot dangling in the air next to you.

"Tie it."

You scoffed and knocked his foot away with an elbow.

"Not even a 'please'?"

"Tie it. Please." He wiggled his foot closer, back into your space.

"How old are you?" you chastised, knocking it away again.

He let out a tchhh sound that hit the back of his teeth. "I'm not the one who untied them in a tantrum. Got my hands full at home, thanks."

You dragged your feet around, turning your body to face him, chin tilted up. "Hands are looking pretty empty right now."

"I have thick fingers, plus the claws," he said, tongue in cheek. His eyes glittered with amusement down at you, and you couldn't help but mirror it back, reluctant smile tugging at your lips. "You know this is harder for me."

He just wanted you to touch him. He'd have to try harder than that.

"Oh, is it?" you replied, smirking. "Great - we know you love a challenge."

And you just stared up at him, unmoving.

He huffed out a breath of disappointment. Then sighing heavily, he crouched down that entire tight war machine of a body, till his face was level with yours and you had no choice but to stare at him, exchanging the same air in the breaths between you.

Yeah - you walked right into that one. His whole body crowded you, looming over you like a mountain as his steady hands began working the laces into clean knots again. He kept his clever gaze straight on you though, a softness, a question, a deep yearning threatening to pull you in. Your breathing shallowed, your face less than a foot apart from his. You could see the layered shades of gray-purple that fanned out across his cheekbones, the heavy bags under his eyes that held themselves up like crossbows. The thin scar running down his lip - that one, you weren't there for. He had earned it, and his name, during his first knife fight in the streets of Zaun. He had won, but the stitching was crude, done by the unpracticed hands of one of the OG Firelights.

He never did tell you his name before the scar, the one his mother gave him. You'd always wanted to run your thumb down it, like maybe the fault line would spill the secret heart of him if you did.

His mouth twitched as you stared at it, and you blinked, caught. His ears flicked, almost with - pleasure, and he shifted his weight, making to stand up. Before he could move, you reached for him. In another life, you'd extended your palm towards his face, caressed that jawline as he'd leaned into your touch, seeking comfort as he waded in unknown waters, before the crashing waves of parenthood bowled him over and fashioned him a new life, on a new shore.

Now, your hand simply reached for his in silent request, and he pulled you up easily from the ground with him without question. He gently let you go. Somehow, it felt like a test, like he was seeing if you would come back. Your gaze lingered on his, heart beating slowly, oddly calm - like your body was remembering the ease that once passed between you two.

Those green eyes pulled you in like the tide, and it took you another moment to realize you were floating. He gave you a small smile, and you gave him one in return. You didn't know what was happening, but you knew you couldn't just stand in this store house shed with him forever. Finally, you looked away and turned, pushing through the doors the way you came, getting a head start - to where? You didn't even remember.

In no time, Scar pulled up beside you, gazing down at your face for a moment, as if to see if you were okay, and then you walked together back towards the tree in silence, lost in your own thoughts. You didn't realize he had been calling your name until he leaned down towards you, saying it close to your ear.

You startled and stopped walking, looking up at him. You were surprised to see the more serious set of his jaw, contrasting from the loose-lipped teasing he'd given you just ten minutes ago. His eyes were the ocean staring back at you, waiting to see what the tide would bring.

Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn't keep meeting like this. Exchanging banters and dancing around each other. Maybe similar thoughts had crossed Scar's mind too, because that furrow was back between his brows. His body's energy felt tense - almost like he was preparing himself.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" you asked, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.

"I was saying," he started again, feigning annoyance. Then his face softened, those brows knitting even closer together like it was their sole purpose.

"I want to - talk, sometime. Sooner rather than later?" There was warmth in his voice, burning and sure.

You blinked up at him, the words registering slowly. You thought a small wave of resentment would rise, or even an echo of hurt. Staring up at him now, the steady sorrow and longing held in those luminescent orbs, you could barely recall what you would need to talk about. Strangely, things were starting to feel more like they did before. Like so much time had passed and yet here you were, meeting again, almost like nothing had happened.

Things were shifting, you could feel that, threads of familiarity stitching patterns between you two.

But it couldn't be the way it was before. It wasn't possible. Was it?

"Sure," you breathed. "Yeah, Scar. We can talk."

Your heartbeat was slow, your blood seeming to flow backwards in time. You didn't know what this feeling was. It wasn't - dread. It wasn't exactly fear either. Maybe - anticipation, simple and biological. You didn't know what was to come. It wasn't good or bad. It just was.

But you did know you were open to accepting its arrival.

Scar watched you wading through your thoughts. You'd assumed he would chase, the way he did when you'd been out in the Lanes, landing a kill for the night. The way he'd thoroughly enjoyed watching you squirm under his gaze on that rooftop a few weeks ago. It was everything your body had been craving. But this - this was different.

He wasn't chasing. He was being...intentional.

"Okay," he breathed, a small, grateful smile turning up the corner of his mouth. He paused, looking for more of what he wanted to say. He paused for so long, looking searchingly into your face, that you thought that might be it. Then -

"Thank you," he said simply, quietly.

That voice of fire and smoke, burning coals and ash. A voice that went down your spine like honey.

"I've missed you."

Your breath caught, your lips twitching in surprise and then - a slight frown.

"I know," you said softly. And, because you didn't think you had much reason left to be an asshole anymore, you let him know. "I've missed you, too."

His ears flicked, and there it was again. The warmth in his eyes, the softness in his smile.

There were probably folks walking around base, going about their day. But in this moment, it was like nothing else existed except you and him. It was the small intimate world you'd built together in his living room quarters, all those months ago, but here and alive, allowed to breathe the air outside beyond closed doors.

You had been here before, as friends, your bonds slowly tethering back together.

But it was definitely different.

And you wanted to know more.