Chapter Text
He was standing in the darkness. The air felt heavy, though there was no air to breathe. There was no sound, no smell, no sense of where he was or how he had gotten there.
Shapes began to flicker at the edges of his vision, indistinct and blurry, like shadows cast by something he couldn’t see. Whenever he’d turn to look at the shapes, he couldn’t see anything. Was it even possible to see in this darkness? The ground beneath his feet was soft, yet solid. Jax tried to look around, to focus, but nothing held its shape. Everything wavered, like looking through rippling water.
Colors swirled in the distance – muted purples and deep blacks that seemed to pulse faintly. They moved like a heartbeat, slow and steady, drawing him closer without him realizing it. He stepped forward, though he wasn’t sure his legs were moving. The swirling colors seemed to grow brighter, but with each step, the air felt thicker, pressing against his chest.
He looked down at his hands. They looked normal at first, but as he stared, faint tendrils of darkness began to seep from his fingertips, curling upward like smoke. He shook his hands instinctively, trying to rid himself of the strange tendrils, but they didn’t stop. They grew, spreading up his arms into the space around him.
Panic swelled in his chest. The colors in the distance began to shift and contort, becoming jagged, chaotic. The ground beneath him rippled violently, and suddenly he was falling—or was he floating? He couldn’t tell. He wasn’t sure what was up or down anymore.
Then he heard it—a voice, faint and distant, like a whisper carried on the wind. “Jax…” It called his name, soft yet haunting, just barely audible. He froze, straining to hear it, his chest tightening as the sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. He stumbled forward toward the voice, the darkness pressing heavier against him. Just as it grew louder, almost within reach, the shadows rushed toward him, and—
“Jax!” The voice jolted him awake.
He blinked a few times, his mind still clouded by the remnants of the strange dream. Another nightmare. Not the first nor last. Then, Powder’s face came into focus, her eyes wide with urgency. “It’s afternoon already,” she said. “You’re still in bed? Come on, lazybones!”
“Powder? What are you doing here?” he muttered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
She threw her hands up in exasperation. “What am I doing here? What are you still doing in bed? We have to get to the docks, like, now!”
“The docks?” Jax repeated groggily. “What’s at the docks?”
Powder groaned, bouncing on her heels like she was ready to drag him out of bed herself. “Mylo said he saw an abandoned shipment of tools and parts down there.”
Jax frowned, running a hand through his messy hair. “What’s the rush?”
Powder rolled her eyes. “The rush is that everyone knows about it, and if we don’t get there first, we’ll get stuck with nothing but junk – and not the good kind of junk.” She crossed her arms, fixing him with a pointed look. “You really want to miss out on this?”
Jax groaned, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Fine, fine. I’m up. But I’m not running if it’s just going to be scraps.”
“It’s not scraps!” Powder said, grabbing his arm and yanking him to his feet. “It’s good stuff. Really good stuff. Tools, parts, maybe even something we can sell—if we get there before everyone else.”
Jax sighed, reaching for his satchel and slipping it over his shoulder. “Alright, alright, let’s go. But if Vi gets mad about how much we grab, I’m blaming you.”
“Deal,” Powder said with a mischievous grin, already heading for the door. “Now hurry up!” Jax barely had time to grab his satchel before Powder was out the door. “Come on, slowpoke!” she called over her shoulder.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Jax shouted back, slinging the bag over his shoulder and breaking into a jog to catch up. As they slipped into the maze of Zaun’s alleys, Jax tried to focus on the rush, on Powder’s determination to beat the others to the docks. But the strange echo of his name from the dream lingered in the back of his mind. Pushing it out, he tried to focus on the task at hand.
The alleys were alive with their usual chaos: merchants hollering about wares, the hiss of steam pipes venting overhead, and the hum of distant machinery. Jax dodged a group of scavengers arguing over scrap, nearly tripping over a stray pipe as he tried to keep pace with Powder, earning a curse or two aimed at him from behind.
As they rushed, Jax’s mind wondered. From what he came to know about her, Powder had always been full of energy and ideas, but something had shifted in the past few months since they’d met. She’d grown obsessed with crafting – taking scraps and tools and trying to make things. Just like Jax, most of Powder’s creations didn’t work the way she hoped, but she had a determination that sometimes even surpassed his own. They’d spend countless hours in the Invention Station—a name he’d proudly given his cluttered workshop—tinkering with scraps, sharing ideas, and laughing at their frequent failures.
It was hard to believe this was the same girl who had hesitated to even touch a screwdriver. What had changed? Was it their tinkering sessions? Or was it something else entirely? He didn’t know, but seeing her excitement made him proud, even if she teased him about his “not-so-genius” inventions.”
Powder often stayed late, her excitement keeping her going until Vi inevitably showed up to drag her home. Vi was always impatient, her nerves on edge as she scolded Powder for staying out too long. But beneath that tough exterior, Jax could see the spark in Vi’s eyes when she looked at her sister—a softer, protective affection she couldn’t quite hide. He hadn’t met the others from Powder’s family, he had only seen them from afar, and Powder frequently talked about them.
“Claggor? He’s the best. He’s so strong and smart and always knows how to fix stuff. He can fix everything with his toolbox, and it’ll be good as new. He’s kinda like a big brother, but nicer than Mylo because he doesn’t tease me as much. And he’s so funny!”
When she mentioned Mylo, her face scrunched up in a mix of annoyance. “Mylo? Ugh, he’s annoying and mean! He always calls me names like ‘jinx’ and acts like he’s better than me just because he’s older. But… I guess he’s kinda funny when he’s not being a jerk. He’s always trying to act tough, like he knows everything, but I think he just wants us to think he’s cool.”
Her tone would soften when she spoke about Vi, her eyes lighting up with admiration. “Vi is my best friend. She’s the bravest person I know. She always stands up for me, even when Mylo’s being mean, and she’s so good at fighting – bam, bam, bam! No one messes with her. I wanna be just like her when I grow up. She says I’ll be strong one day too, but… I don’t know. I mess things up a lot.”
When Jax asked about Vander, her voice often grew warm, almost reverent. “Vander’s like… a dad to us. He keeps ups safe and takes care of everyone. He’s big and strong, but not scary – he’s nice! He always says we have to stick together and take care of each other. I like when he talks to me like I’m important, like I can help too. He believes in us, even me…”
Powder suddenly skidded to a stop, snapping him out of his thoughts. She turned back to him, hands on her hips. “You’re so slow, Jax! At this rate, we’ll get there and find Mylo sitting on our crate, laughing at us.”
“I never knew you’d care about this so much.”
Powder shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Maybe I just like making stuff now. Or maybe I want to prove I’m better than you.” She stuck her tongue out and bolted again before he could reply.
Jax grinned, shaking his head as he pushed himself to catch up. “Better than me? Not in a million years!”
By the time Jax and Powder arrived at the docks, the place was already in chaos. Shouts and curses rang out as scavengers, workers, and gang members fought over crates of supplies that had just been unloaded. The air was thick with the smell of saltwater, oil, and tension.
Jax froze for a moment, taking in the scene. People were darting between the crates, some already hauling away their spoils while others argued over who had claimed what. A group of burly men stood near the largest shipment, their voices booming as they threatened anyone who dared get too close.
“See what I mean?” Powder said breathlessly, clutching his arm. “If we don’t hurry, there’s gonna be nothing left but junk.”
Jax scanned the area quickly. “Where’s Vi? And the others?”
“There!” Powder pointed toward the far end of the dock, where Vi was standing between Claggor and Mylo. Her arms were crossed, expression sharp as she argued with another group over a large crate. Mylo, true to form and skinny as branch, looked like he was enjoying the conflict, while stocky Claggor stood back, clearly trying to stay out of it.
Jax groaned. “Great. It’s already a mess.”
“Come on!” Powder urged, tugging at his sleeve. “We’ve got to find something good before they take everything!”
The two of them weaved through the chaotic scene, dodging swinging fists and flying debris. Jax noticed smaller crates tucked behind larger ones, mostly overlooked in the frenzy. He grabbed Powder’s arm and pulled her toward them.
“Over here!” he said, dropping to one knee and prying open a small crate. Inside were a few tools—rusted, but salvageable—and a handful of gears that looked promising. Powder’s eyes lit up as she grabbed a piece of equipment and turned it over in her hands.
“This is perfect!” she whispered excitedly.
“Not bad,” Jax admitted, shoving as much as he could into his satchel. “But we’ve got to move fast. If anyone sees us—”
“Hey!” a rough voice barked behind them. Jax and Powder whipped around to see a gang of three young men stalking toward them, their eyes fixed on the crate they’d just opened. “That’s ours!”
“No, it’s not,” Jax said instinctively, stepping in front of Powder. “You didn’t even see it until now.”
The tallest of the three cracked his knuckles, his grin anything but friendly. “Doesn’t matter. Hand it over, or we’ll take it ourselves.”
Powder clutched the gear she’d picked up, her knuckles white. “We found it first,” she said, her voice trembling slightly but determined.
Jax glanced back at her, then at the three men closing in. His heart raced. He wasn’t a fighter, but he couldn’t just hand everything over. His mind buzzed, scrambling for a plan.
Before he could think of anything, a sharp voice cut through the chaos. “Back off.”
Vi.
She strode toward them with the kind of authority that made even the boldest thugs hesitate. Claggor and Mylo followed close behind, Claggor holding a length of pipe like a club. Mylo, smirking as always, cracked his knuckles theatrically.
“You heard me,” Vi said, stopping a few feet away from the group. “They’re with us. Get lost.”
The tallest man sneered, but the hesitation in his eyes was obvious. “This ain’t your territory, Vi.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she shot back. “We can fight if that’s what you want.” She tilted her head, daring them to make a move.
The men exchanged uneasy glances before the leader spat on the ground. “Not worth it,” he muttered. With one last glare, they turned and stalked away, disappearing into the crowd.
Jax let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Powder grinned up at Vi. “You’re the best, Vi.”
Vi smirked, ruffling Powder’s hair. “And you’re the worst for running off without telling me. Again.” She glanced at Jax, her eyes narrowing. “Good thing I got here when I did.”
Jax shrugged, trying to play it cool. “We had it under control.”
Vi rolled her eyes. “Sure you did.” She turned to the others. “Come on, let’s get the rest of this stuff and get out of here before things get worse.”
As the group began hauling supplies, Jax couldn’t shake the adrenaline coursing through him—or the unease that lingered from how close things had gotten. The docks weren’t just chaotic—they were dangerous. And something told him this was only the beginning.
The docks buzzed with chaos, as Jax, Powder, Vi, Claggor, and Mylo worked quickly to gather whatever supplies they could. The air was tense, thick with the shouting of rival scavengers and the scrape of crates being hauled away. Jax stuffed a handful of gears into his satchel, keeping one eye on Powder, who was eagerly digging through a smaller crate.
“Got some good stuff here!” Powder said, holding up a bundle of wires triumphantly.
“Great,” Jax muttered, glancing over his shoulder. He didn’t like how some of the groups nearby were eyeing them, their postures stiff and aggressive. “But let’s make it fast. I don’t think they’re happy we’re here.”
Before anyone could respond, a sharp shout rang out.
“Hey! That’s ours!”
Jax looked up to see a group of thugs approaching, led by a burly man with a jagged scar across his face. His crew wasn’t large—maybe five men—but their menacing glares and makeshift weapons made it clear they weren’t bluffing. They stopped a few feet away, their eyes locked on the crate Vi and Claggor were rummaging through.
“This?” Vi said, straightening up and placing herself squarely in front of the crate. Her tone was calm, but her body was coiled like a spring. “Pretty sure you weren’t touching it when we got here.”
“Doesn’t matter,” the scarred man growled. “It’s ours now. Move.”
Vi smirked, cracking her knuckles. “How about no?”
“Vi,” Claggor muttered, gripping a pipe in his hands, “maybe we should—”
“No,” she cut him off, her gaze never leaving the thugs. “They’re not taking anything.”
The scarred man sneered. “Fine. Have it your way.”
He lunged forward, swinging a crowbar. Vi ducked easily, her fist snapping upward to connect with his jaw. The blow sent him stumbling back, but his crew didn’t hesitate. They charged as one, weapons raised.
Jax’s heart leapt into his throat. “Powder, get back!” he shouted, stepping in front of her as the chaos erupted.
Claggor swung his pipe with surprising force, knocking one attacker’s weapon out of his hand. Mylo darted in from the side, grinning as he jabbed another thug in the ribs. “Too slow!” he taunted, only to yelp as a second man nearly clipped him with a wooden plank.
Vi moved like a whirlwind, ducking, weaving, and landing punishing blows. Her confidence was unwavering, but Jax couldn’t shake the feeling that they were outnumbered. He grabbed a loose gear from the ground and hurled it at one of the attackers. It clanged uselessly off the man’s shoulder.
“Really?” Powder said from behind him, her voice equal parts terrified and incredulous.
“Shut up,” Jax muttered, scanning the chaos for anything he could use.
The man broke past Vi, heading straight for him. His face twisted into a cruel sneer as he raised a rusted wrench. Jax swung the crowbar awkwardly, but the man batted it aside with ease, the force sending Jax stumbling back.
“Jax, do something!” Powder called from behind one of the crates, clutching the bundle of wires she had scavenged.
“Yeah, great idea, Powder!” Jax shot back. “What exactly am I supposed to do—scare them off with bad jokes?”
The man’s grin was twisted, his heavy wrench swinging lazily in one hand as he closed the distance. “End of the road,” he sneered.
Jax raised his hands instinctively to protect himself, his heart pounding. “Back off!” he shouted, though his voice cracked slightly. He took a shaky step back, nearly tripping over a loose plank. The thug laughed, stepping closer, his grip tightening on the wrench.
And then, the man stopped.
His grin vanished, replaced by a sudden, wide-eyed panic. His wrench fell from his hands with a loud clang, and he stumbled back as though he’d seen something horrifying. “No… no, no, no…” he muttered, his voice trembling.
Jax froze, unsure what was happening. “What—what’s wrong with you?” he stammered.
The thug didn’t answer. His gaze darted wildly around, his breathing ragged. Without another word, he turned and bolted, shoving past his own crew as he ran for the far end of the docks. The others stared after him, momentarily stunned.
“What the hell was that about?” Mylo called, narrowly dodging a swing as the fight resumed.
Jax stayed rooted in place, his hands trembling as he tried to catch a breath. He hadn’t done anything. Had he? He glanced at Powder, who was peeking out from her hiding spot, her expression as bewildered as his own.
“Did you see that?” she whispered. “He just… ran. What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Jax muttered, shaking his head. “I don’t know what happened.”
The sound of a loud thud snapped them back to the fight. Vi had knocked the leader flat, standing over him with her fists clenched. “Get lost,” she growled. “Unless you want me to make it worse.”
The remaining thugs exchanged uneasy looks. Muttering curses, they hauled their leader up and backed away, casting wary glances at Jax before disappearing into the maze of crates.
Vi turned, wiping the blood under nose as she strode over. “You alright?” she asked, her sharp gaze flicking between Jax and Powder.
“Fine,” Jax lied, though his voice felt hollow. His thoughts raced, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Vi raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. “Good. Now grab what you can carry. We’re getting out of here before someone else decides to pick a fight.”
As they finished gathering their supplies, Jax caught Powder glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. She’d been unusually quiet since the fight, her usual energy replaced by something more subdued.
“What?” Jax asked, adjusting the strap of his satchel. “You’ve been staring at me for like a minute.”
Powder hesitated, kicking at a loose nail on the ground before speaking. “That guy… why did he run off?”
Jax frowned, the memory flashing in his mind. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “One second he was about to clobber me, and the next… he just freaked out.”
Powder tilted her head, her blue eyes narrowing slightly. “You didn’t do anything? Like… accidentally scare him or something?”
Jax huffed, half-laughing. “What, you think I grow claws or something?”
She studied him for another moment before shrugging. “Weird. Maybe he’s just a big baby.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Jax muttered, though his tone lacked conviction. He slung his satchel over his shoulder, the weight of the tool and parts inside pressing against his back. Just as he was about to head back toward his workshop, he saw a crate tucked behind a stack of broken pallets, its lid barely hanging on by a few rusted nails. He pried it open with a grunt, expecting the usual junk – scrap metal, tools, maybe a few bolts if he was lucky.
Instead, his hand closed around something solid and smooth. He pulled it out, his eyes widening slightly. It was a sword – plain, unadorned, and worn with use. The blade had a few nicks, and the leather wrapping on the hilt was frayed, but it was sturdy.
Jax held it up, testing its weight. It wasn’t flashy or particularly impressive. He gave it a small swing, feeling the way it cut through the air.
“Not bad,” he muttered to himself, tucking it under his arm.
As Jax walked back toward the group, the sword tucked awkwardly under his arm, Mylo spotted him and immediately burst into laughter. “What’s that supposed to be?” Mylo said, pointing at the blade. “You planning to be a knight or something?”
Jax frowned, gripping the hilt defensively. “It’s a sword,” he said flatly. “You know, for protection.”
Mylo doubled over, clutching his stomach. “Protection? From what? Rust monsters? That thing looks like it’s about to fall apart!”
Claggor shook his head, muttering, “Lay off, Mylo.”
Jax rolled his eyes at Mylo’s teasing, refusing to rise to the bait. “Yeah, yeah, real funny,” he muttered, tucking the sword back under his arm. He turned to Powder, who was standing next to Vi, inspecting some kind of needle in her hand. “I’ll see you later, Powder.”
“Wait, you’re leaving already?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Jax said, adjusting the satchel on his shoulder. “Got what I came for. No point hanging around.”
He adjusted the strap of his satchel and started toward his workshop, eager to leave the docks behind. But the lingering tension from the fight clung to him. Usually, he was pretty good at avoiding fights, and keeping to himself, but not today. His mind kept circling back to that moment – the thug who’d stared at him, terrified, before running away like he’d seen something unspeakable.
Before he could spiral further, Vi’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”
Jax stopped, glancing back at her. Vi was standing a few steps away, her arms crossed.
“You’re not seriously thinking of walking home alone with that haul, are you?” she asked, her tone sharp.
Jax shrugged, “I’ve done it before.”
“Yeah, well, today’s different,” Vi said, stepping closer. “You saw how things went down back there. Those thugs aren’t just gonna let this slide. And if it’s not them, someone else will be watching.”
Jax hesitated, her words cutting through the uneasy haze in his mind. She wasn’t wrong. That man’s terror might’ve been luck, but the others? They wouldn’t think twice about jumping him.
“Come back with us,” Vi said, her voice softening. “You can crash for a bit, let things cool down. No one’s gonna mess with you if you’re with us.”
“I don’t need—” Jax started, but Powder grabbed his arm, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes.
“Come on, Jax,” she said. “Vi’s right. Come with us.”
He sighed, glancing between Powder’s concern and Vi’s no-nonsense stare. The image of the terrified thug flashed in his mind again, tightening his chest. “Fine,” he muttered. “But just for a bit.”
Vi smirked, clapping him on the shoulder. “Smart choice, kiddo. Let’s move.”
The journey through the Lanes was chaotic as usual but oddly familiar. The narrow streets teemed with people shouting, bartering, and moving with purpose. Steam hissed from pipes above, mingling with the flickering glow of Zaun’s rusted lanterns. Jax kept his head down, clutching his satchel tightly, the sword bumping awkwardly against his leg as they weaved through the crowds.
Powder walked beside him, her usual energy returning as she chattered about the parts they’d grabbed. “That one gear, the big one? I bet we can use it for something really cool. Like maybe a wind-up… uh, something! We’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jax muttered, distracted by the growing noise and movement around them. The closer they got to Vander’s place, the more crowded the streets became. People lounged on crates, groups huddled in corners, and kids darted between the legs of merchants, laughing as they vanished into the maze of the Lanes.
Jax shrank back slightly, feeling out of place in the bustling crowd. Powder, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease. Vi led the way, her presence parting the groups like a blade through water. Everyone seemed to know who she was, and no one wanted to get in her way.
Finally, they reached Vander’s place—a dimly lit but solid-looking tavern called The Last Drop, tucked between two leaning buildings. The warm glow of lanterns spilled out onto the cobblestones, accompanied by the low murmur of voices and the occasional burst of laughter. The smell of ale and something fried hit Jax’s nose, making his stomach rumble.
Vi pushed open the door, motioning for the others to follow. Inside, the place was packed. People sat at the bar, crowded around tables, and leaned against walls, all talking over one another. It was overwhelming. Jax hesitated in the doorway, his grip tightening on his satchel.
Powder noticed and grabbed his arm, tugging him forward. “Come on, it’s fine. Nobody’s gonna bite.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Jax muttered, his face flushing slightly.
Powder sighed and led him through the room, navigating the maze of bodies until they reached the bar. Behind it stood Vander—a towering man with broad shoulders and a calm, commanding presence. He was pouring a drink when he noticed the group approaching, his face softening into a smile.
“Well, look who’s back,” Vander said, his voice a deep rumble. His eyes landed on Jax, and one brow raised in curiosity. “And you brought someone new.”
“This is Jax,” Powder said quickly, nudging him forward. “He’s, uh… my friend. He helped with the haul.”
Vi smirked, leaning against the bar. “More like we had to make sure he didn’t get robbed on the way home.”
Jax shifted uncomfortably under Vander’s steady gaze. “I can take care of myself,” he mumbled, looking at the floor.
Vander let out a low chuckle, his large hand resting on the counter. “That so?” His tone wasn’t mocking, but there was a warmth to it that made Jax feel a little less like an outsider. Vander’s eyes flicked back to Vi, his warm expression dimming slightly. “Alright, Vi,” he said, his tone calm but heavy. “Let’s hear it. What happened this time?”
“Oh, nothing serious.” Vi said dismissively, adding an innocent smile.
But Vander wasn’t smiling anymore. “Your nose says otherwise.”
Vi straightened from her lean against the bar, crossing her arms in an almost defiant stance. “Don’t worry about it,” she said with a shrug. “Just some low-lives at the docks who thought they could mess with us.”
Vander’s brow furrowed, his fingers tapping lightly on the counter. “Low-lives? That the term you use for everyone who lives down here? Or just the ones you get into fights with?”
“They started it,” Vi said quickly, her voice hardening. “We were just defending ourselves. You’d rather we let them take everything?”
“I’d rather you didn’t put yourselves—and Powder—in harm’s way,” Vander replied, his tone sharpening just a fraction. “You know how things are right now. People are on edge, and you going around throwing punches isn’t exactly helping.”
Vi’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond. Powder shifted nervously beside Jax, who was suddenly very interested in the scuffed floorboards.
“They had it coming,” Vi muttered after a beat, though her voice lacked its usual bite. “What was I supposed to do? Let them walk all over us?”
Vander sighed, rubbing a hand across his jaw, covered in graying beard. “I’m not saying you don’t stand your ground, Vi. I’m saying you’ve got to be smarter about it. You’re not just some kid anymore. People look at you, and they see someone tied to me. That means the trouble you stir up comes back here.”
Vi’s fists clenched at her sides. “I wasn’t stirring up trouble. I was protecting what’s ours.”
“Maybe so,” Vander said, his voice low and steady, like a storm about to break. “But what happens next time? Next time, it’s not a handful of thugs—it’s someone worse. Someone who doesn’t care how tough you are. And you’re dragging Powder into this too.” His gaze shifted to Powder, softening briefly. “She shouldn’t be anywhere near fights like that.”
“Hey!” Powder piped up, stepping forward. “I can handle myself!”
“You shouldn’t have to,” Vander said firmly, cutting her off but not unkindly. “You’re smart, Powder. You’ve got potential. Don’t waste it getting caught up in these scraps.”
Powder frowned but didn’t argue. Vi, however, bristled, her tone hardening again. “I’m not dragging anyone into anything. Powder’s the one who wanted to come.”
“And you’re supposed to be the one looking out for her,” Vander shot back, his voice rising slightly before he took a breath, forcing himself to calm. “You think you’re protecting everyone, but it’s on you if something happens.”
Vi’s lips pressed into a thin line, her shoulders tense. “Fine,” she muttered, her voice low and sullen. “I get it.”
“I hope you do,” Vander said, his tone softening again. He looked at her for a moment longer before nodding. “You’re a good kid, Vi. But you’ve got to learn when to fight—and when to walk away.”
Vi didn’t respond, but the tension in her stance eased just slightly. Powder glanced between them, clearly uncomfortable with the exchange, and Jax awkwardly adjusted his satchel, feeling like he’d stumbled into something he wasn’t supposed to witness.
Vander finally looked back at Jax, his voice lighter. “And you,” he said, the warmth returning. “You helped Powder out there?”
Jax shifted, feeling the weight of Vander’s attention again. “Uh, yeah. Just… made sure no one got hurt.”
“Good,” Vander said with a nod. “You’re welcome here anytime. Just keep an eye on that sword. Don’t want you scaring off my customers.”
Jax managed a faint smile, his cheeks reddening again. Powder grinned and nudged him. “See? You’re part of the crew now.”
Vander chuckled, shaking his head as he turned back to the bar. “Crew, huh?”
The conversation turned lighter as the tension faded, but Vi stayed quiet, her arms crossed as she leaned against the wall, her expression thoughtful. Jax glanced at her, wondering what she was thinking, but decided it was better not to ask.
As the commotion in the tavern settled and the others went about unloading their haul, Jax found a quiet corner and slumped onto a worn bench. He tugged at the fraying strap of his satchel, muttering under his breath. It must’ve been damaged at the dock when he was smacked with a wrench. It was barely holding together, and no amount of fiddling seemed to help. He sighed tiredly, giving up.
“You’re so bad at that,” Powder said, appearing beside him with a grin.
Jax jumped slightly, but her teasing tone softened the edge of his nerves. “What now?” he asked, giving her a sideways glance.
“That strap,” she said, pointing at the satchel. “You’re gonna wreck it if you keep pulling like that. Give it here.”
Jax frowned but handed it over reluctantly. Powder plopped down beside him, pulling a bit of wire from her pocket and twisting it deftly around the worn leather. “There,” she muttered. “Not pretty, but it’ll hold.”
Jax smirked faintly. “Ah, what would I do without my savior Powder?”
“Lose everything halfway home,” Powder said with a grin, nudging his arm. But as the moment passed, her grin faded, and she looked down at the strap in her hands. “Vi’s gonna lecture me later. She always does.”
Jax tilted his head. “For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Powder shrugged, her fingers fidgeting with the wire she’d just tied. “She’s always worried about me. Like, all the time. And I get it, you know? She’s just trying to protect me. But it’s like… she doesn’t think I can do anything on my own.”
Jax frowned, watching her carefully. Powder rarely got this quiet.
“And it’s not just her,” she continued, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Claggor’s nice, but he doesn’t think I can handle stuff either. And Mylo? He’s always calling me a ‘tagalong.’ Like I’m useless or something.”
“You’re not useless,” Jax said firmly, his voice cutting through her self-doubt. Powder looked up at him, startled by the conviction in his tone.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at her. “You’re smart, Powder. Smarter than most people I’ve met.”
Powder blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You really think so?”
Jax nodded. “Yeah. I mean, come on—you already fix my stuff when it breaks, and half the time you come up with ideas I wouldn’t even think of. Hey, you fixed the strap that even I couldn’t. And I’m a genius. That’s not nothing.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “Thanks, Jax,” she said quietly, her voice softer now.
“Don’t mention it,” he said, leaning back against the wall. “Just don’t let Mylo’s dumb comments get to you. He’s just jealous ‘cause you’re better at this stuff than he is.”
Powder giggled at that, the sound lightening the mood between them. She handed him back the satchel with a triumphant grin. “There. All fixed.”
Jax took it, shaking his head with a small laugh. “Looks perfect.”
As the noise of the tavern swirled around them, Powder leaned back on the bench, her shoulders relaxing for the first time all evening. Jax glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and couldn’t help but feel a rare sense of calm.
From the corner on the opposite side of the room, Vi was watching, and her lips curled upwards into a smile.