Chapter Text
Ekko sat in the infirmary’s chair beside Isha, her golden eyes still shut as she lay limp on the bed, a white blanket pulled up to her shoulders. A rag lay over the gauze on her forehead, her right arm still stained pink from blood that wouldn’t come off. His back ached from the time spent in the stiff cushioned chair as his mind ran. His leg bounced absent-mindedly as he ran through all the possibilities. Then the head medic entered. He didn’t acknowledge her, his thoughts keeping him occupied until she spoke.
“Ekko?” She said and he snapped out of himself.
“Sorry, Gwen.” He ran a hand down his face as if trying to wipe away his racing thoughts. Gwen stood beside the bed, her fingers hovering over Isha’s arm. Her short, dark hair was pinned back, her wrist circled with a woven bracelet.
“It’s definitely broken.” She said, not making eye contact, her blue eyes drifting over Isha’s wounds. His gaze drifted to the girl. Her arm was now in a messy cast, resting over her chest. But he still couldn’t shake the image of it when he and Jinx had seen her, lying in the training room in a pool of her own blood and tears. He shouldn’t have said it. At least, not like that. She probably hadn’t known what she was suggesting. How could she? It worked for her. But the look in her eyes had stuck to him like a haunting ghost. So sure, so…heartless. He pushed the thought away.
“It seems like the scarred tissue may make it difficult to…” Gwen trailed off, tapping her finger to her chin as she thought. She turned to Ekko. “Do you know how she got these scars?” Ekko shook his head. Why did she go back? Why did she go back alone? Why didn’t he prepare for if she did? Why didn’t he lock the door? Why didn’t he notice? Why didn’t he–
“Isha’ll need to stay here for a bit longer. At least until she wakes up.” Gwen interrupted his train of thought. Ekko nodded silently. “She’ll be okay. She just needs time.” She promised. Ekko wasn’t sure how much he trusted that promise. But she left anyway. The quiet of the room stretched on, practically suffocating him as he watched Isha’s still body, sleeping from the drugs she’d been given to help numb the headache. Or at least, they think that’s what was hurting. The girl had had a hard time signing with one uncoordinated hand through the tears. Now, just like he’d been doing for the past unknown amount of hours, he waited for her to wake up. The soft click of his cheap watch was the only sound as time went on. Ekko needed to be here when she woke up. But she wasn’t going to anytime soon. Was she? He stood and gently took her left wrist. Her pulse was slow but steady. She was okay. She was okay. She was okay. She was okay. He released her limp arm, stuffing his cold hands in his pockets as he left the room. He’d told Gwen to let him know when Isha woke up anyway. He’d been in there too long. The air in there was too thick, almost suffocating.
Ekko wandered the Firelight base, his gaze drifting, searching all the little places the shadows covered. He checked each of her classic hiding spots, the branches hidden with leaves, the narrow space between the training room and the wall, the top of the wall, but she was nowhere to be found. Ekko finally headed back to the treehouse, double-checking the branches as he passed. The door swung open with a high squeak. The lights were out, the blankets overturned, unfinished projects littering the ground. Dust had begun to line the records and her box of oil crayons along with whatever she had been working on. The room was empty and so, so quiet. Ekko stepped inside, closing the door behind him and turning on the lamp, casting in an orange light that did nothing to warm the cold in his chest.
“Blue?” He called softly. No answer. Maybe she was just hiding in here. Behind the door? No. Under the desk? No.
“Jinx?” Ekko tried instead. The room remained silent. In the closet? No. By the far wall? No. “Jinx?” He called again, louder this time. Still nothing. He wandered the room, lifting the blankets, pushing aside the furniture. Nothing. He called her name, every one he could think of. Nothing. He tossed aside his things, pillows, clothes, tools, scraps. His breaths came shallow and quick as each hit the ground, making a mess of their room. Nothing. Eventually, when the room was successfully torn apart, Ekko sighed, his gaze searching the room one last time. Nothing. Not even a note. Not even a fucking note. “Fine.” He hissed under his breath, his shoulders fell as he stepped outside, unsure where he was headed. He couldn’t be in there right now, not with the loud obnoxious beating of his heart in his ears. Maybe she…
Ekko made his way down the stairs and into the room at the base of the tree. Thankfully, it was unoccupied. He shut the door behind him, scraping a chair on the floor as he pulled it to the table. Too many maps lay before him, all sporting different types of notes. Some about chembarons, some about topside, others he wasn’t even sure of the reason. He read the notes about the previous day’s work. A few scouts had checked out the chembarons’ old hideout, though now the building looked more like a ruin than anything. Between Jinxers, the chembaron’s own in-fighting, and the war with Noxus, that building had almost been leveled. The notes told of graffiti coating the brick walls, holes broken in the glass, the door on the ground, the smell of smoke stuck to the place. The door clicked open and Ekko’s eyes lifted over his paper. Not her. His gaze moved back.
“I’m busy.” He said.
“I can tell.” Scar replied, leaning casually on the door as if this was normal. “But the chembarons aren’t what’s bothering you.”
“Sure.” Ekko mumbled, barely even listening to the other man. His best friend pushed down the papers and Ekko shot him a quick glare.
“Did you go see her?” Scar asked quietly.
“Isha’s sleeping.”
“What did Gwen say?”
“Gwen says she’ll be okay.” Ekko said flatly, mind elsewhere. He wasn’t even sure he believed Gwen. She could’ve lied just to get him out of that room. That stupid, suffocating room, where the smell of blood stuck to the curtains. No. She wouldn’t do that. Gwen would tell him if something was wrong. Right?
“Has she seen her?” Scar knew. He had to. Ekko had asked him to bring them dinner yesterday. He knew how close the two girls were.
“...I don’t know.” Ekko managed after a moment. How would she even react? She’d barely been able to contain her cries when they’d found her. Now, the girl was sleeping, motionless, the rise and fall of her chest barely detectable. Like she was…
“Is Isha—” Scar started but Ekko cut him off.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?”
“Okay.” The Chirean said as he pulled another chair to the table. Ekko pinched the bridge of his nose.
“What do you want?” He sighed.
“Nothing.” The taller man shrugged.
“Why are you still here?”
“I’m worried about my friend.” Scar said, putting a reassuring hand on Ekko’s shoulder.
“Don’t be.”
“Have you talked to her?” He asked, not talking about Isha.
“No.” Ekko mumbled.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” He gripped his pencil tighter, scrawling something even he couldn’t read. He circled something else, taking a breath.
“I’ll keep an eye out.” Scar offered.
“Don’t.” Ekko said and Scar paused. “She doesn’t want to be found.”
“How do you know?” He said. Truthfully, Ekko didn’t know. But she would’ve shown herself if she wanted to. She would’ve at least told him where she was going. He’d find her. He’d keep searching, whether or not she wanted to be found. They were supposed to do everything together now. They were supposed to support one another, hold the other while they cried. But no. She ran. Just like she always does. Why does she keep running from him?
“I just know.” He offered a fragile excuse.
“She’ll be back. She always comes back.” Scar squeezed his shoulder. Ekko nodded slightly, already trying to pull his mind back to the chembaron situation. She’d told him a hundred times how she hated this city, how she wanted to go. He never should’ve made her stay. It just made the moment she left hurt more. Scar stood, heading for the door.
“I’ll tell you if I see something.” He said and Ekko kept his gaze on his papers. Then the door was closed behind him. Ekko tossed his notepad onto the pile of papers, running a hand down his face. He shut his eyes for a moment, taking a steadying breath. Isha was laying in the infirmary alone and yet here he was going over paperwork and worrying about her. Ekko stood, taking his notepad with him as he left the strategy room, the mess of papers still in the center of the table as he headed for the infirmary again. He’d arrived just a few minutes before Evelyn pulled aside the curtain.
“Ekko?” She said. The boy in question lifted his eyes from his notes. He immediately noticed the little eyes staring up at him beside the woman. Evelyn gently pushed Amelia back.
“It’s okay.” Ekko said quietly. Evelyn parted her lips to speak but before she could, Amelia pushed herself past and to the side of the bed where Isha lay.
“What happened?” The little bright-eyed girl asked, her excited energy waning at the sight of her friend.
“She just broke her arm.” Ekko explained. Amelia furrowed her brows but turned back to the other girl nonetheless.
“Be gentle, Ams.” Ev said, placing a hand on her granddaughter’s shoulder.
“I know, grandma.” The girl drawled. Then Ev turned to Ekko.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” Ekko said as he tried to steady his bouncing leg. The older woman’s gaze landed on the notepad resting on the arm of the chair.
“The chembaron mission can wait.” She assured him. Not that he needed it. He knew that it wasn’t pressing, but something about the mission was good. He could plan it out. At least with a simple raid, he could control the outcome. At least a lot more than this.
“I know.” He crunched the paper, its crinkle filling the room. “We didn’t even notice.” He said under his breath.
“You can’t blame yourself.” Ev said, offering a half-smile. “Kids sneak around. Accidents happen. What did Gwen–?”
“Gwen says she needs rest.” Ekko interrupted.
“Okay.” The woman said calmly. “Then we wait. Healing takes time.” But she wouldn’t have to heal at all if he’d been paying attention. If he’d noticed the training room was still unlocked. If he’d noticed the window was open. If he’d noticed the girl slipping out of the room. If he’d been faster. If he’d been more attentive. Why hadn’t he paid attention? This place was supposed to be safe. That was the promise he’d made to everyone here, especially to his two girls. This place was his responsibility. He’d failed.
-- ⧖ --
The day was long, the notepad in his hands was covered in scribbled notes and drawings. Each line of words blackened out. What could he even say to her? As he tried to organize his thoughts, he grabbed Isha’s plushies, double-checking the treehouse before he brought them back down. But the girl was still asleep so the toys just lay by her side. Ekko slumped farther into the infirmary chair, sketching over his crossed out notes. He could design a safer board. A resistor on the accelerator. A softer landing mechanism. Or maybe just ditch the boards all together. But all around it were unfinished sketches. He couldn’t quite get her eyes right. All he could see was the way she looked at him, lined with tears, raw fear, and uncertainty when they’d found the girl. It was stupid of him. He shouldn’t be focusing on her when the wounded girl was right in front of him. She could handle herself. He knew it. He had known it for a while. She didn’t need his help and, at the moment, it seemed like she didn’t want it either. The rustle of the hospital blanket broke his train of thought. Isha blinked open her bleary eyes, her golden gaze drifting lazily across the room. She lifted her hand to sign but Ekko spoke first.
“Careful.” He said softly, offering a fragile smile. “You took quite a fall.” He tried to bring a lightness to his tone, but he couldn’t hide the slight shake in his voice. Isha stared up at him, her eyes searching for something behind him. He carefully moved her hair from her face. “You’re gonna be okay, Bug.” Ekko swore. “You just need some time.” Isha nodded just slightly, returning her tired gaze to him. She lifted her good hand, slowly opening her palm. She carefully tapped her thumb to her chin twice.
“Mama?”
“She’ll be here soon.” He said, trying to convince himself too. “She’s just worried.” Isha weakly pushed herself up, wincing as she sat up. She rubbed her temple quickly before shifting to push herself off the bed. Ekko quickly stopped her. “Just rest.” He insisted, but Isha didn’t care. She kicked her feet off the bed and hopped down. Ekko winced internally, wishing for once that she was less like her mama. But she didn’t complain. She didn’t cry. She didn’t even flinch. Her golden gaze circled the room then landed back on him, wide and curious like waiting for him to read her mind. Then the curtain was moved aside and Gwen walked in.
“Oh.” She paused in the doorway just a moment before regaining her composure. “Hey, Isha.” The girl took a tentative step backward, the mattress pressing against her back. “It’s okay.” The head medic said, taking slow careful steps forward, keeping her hands visible. “My name’s Gwen. I’m here to help you.” Isha looked to Ekko, who offered a silent nod and a slight smile. The tension in the girl’s shoulders loosened just a bit. At least until Gwen took careful hold of her wrist. Isha’s hand was balled into a fist, eyes wide like she’d been caught.
“Does that hurt?” Gwen asked quietly. Isha shook her head too quickly. She was poised like she was going to run, her gaze darting between Gwen’s hand, Ekko, and the exit.
“Steady pulse.” The medic mumbled to herself. Then she turned to Ekko. “Could you grab some water? I’m sure she’s dehydrated.” Isha shot him a look, so many thoughts beneath that silent gaze.
“I’ll be right back.” He bent to meet her eyes. “Okay?” She turned back to Gwen, who offered a reassuring smile. Isha bowed her head, her gaze on her shoes as Ekko stepped out. He made quick work of skipping the line, despite the other Firelights’ complaints, and taking a glass of water. He could swear he heard one of them ask if he was okay. He was fine. It wasn’t him he was worried about. It didn’t take long for him to return to the infirmary, probably because he was practically running. By the time Ekko returned, Gwen had begun to examine Isha’s arm. She unwrapped the red-stained bandages slowly, gently. Isha sat, shoulders stiff as she watched. Her whole body was rigid like she was fighting the urge to bolt. Ekko handed her the glass and she drank, though not without spilling a little as her non-dominate hand shook. Gwen placed the old bandages onto the bedside table for now and carefully pressed her finger to Isha’s arm.
“Does that hurt?” She asked. The girl recoiled, rubbing her thumb on her shark plush’s fleece fabric. Gwen’s brows furrowed but she covered it quickly. “I’m sorry.” She offered. “I’m gonna rewrap your arm in a cast then I’ll check on you again later. Okay?” Isha nodded lightly, her eyes wide, her expression unreadable.
“Ekko,” Gwen said. “Can I talk to you outside?” He paused for a moment, looking to Isha, whose gaze had gone downcast as she arranged her plushies on either side of herself.
“Okay.” He said finally. Gwen led him just outside the infirmary, just far enough that Isha was out of earshot. The base was lively as always, kids running and playing, laughter filling the air that still held the fading smell of morning dew on the grass. It was almost surreal. It was like nothing had happened.
“Are you sure you don’t know how she got those scars?” Gwen’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“I don’t know.” Ekko shook his head, trying to bring his thoughts back to the present. “She had them when we found her.”
“Okay.” She released a breath. “Well, it looks like whatever caused them made the bone more brittle, if that makes sense. We’re gonna wrap it like normal but it might not be able to heal.”
“...what happens if it doesn’t?”
“If it can’t heal itself, she wouldn’t be able to move it without a lot of pain. It’d just be limp at her side.”
“She also has scars on her face. I think they’re from the same thing. Does that mean..?”
“Thankfully, her skull looks okay.” Gwen offered. “But I think her right eye might be blind, or at least close to it.” Ekko sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to hold himself together. If he’d just been paying more attention maybe — no, definitely — he could’ve prevented it. The girl would be playing and smiling like always. She wouldn’t have left. Hell, if he’d just been more observant. Isha always did turn her head to see anything to her right. But she’d insisted it was fine. “While you were gone,” Gwen continued. “She signed with her good hand.” The medic showed the sign, her palm open as she tapped her thumb to her chin twice. Ekko released a breath.
“She just wants her mother.”
“Oh.” Gwen’s eyes quickly scanned over the Firelights in the field. She wouldn’t find the woman she didn’t know she was looking for. “Is she..?” Is she dead?
“I haven’t seen her.” Ekko said, looking into the tree’s branches again, as if he’d find her if he just kept searching. She didn’t want to be found. He was sure of it.
“Okay,” Gwen took a breath. “I’m gonna rewrap her arm with a splint. She can go home, but I want to see her again in two weeks.” Ekko nodded and the two headed back inside. Isha’s golden eyes wearily followed them as Gwen aligned the blue and purple colored flesh and wrapped it again. She made a sling from the extra bandages.
“I’m gonna move your arm.” Gwen said. “Ready?” Isha nodded. Gwen did as she said, carefully placing Isha’s arm into the sling, letting it rest against the girl’s chest. “How’s that feel?” She asked and the girl nodded again. Isha ran her fingers over the cast, the bandages rough beneath her skin. “When you came in, you mentioned a headache. Right?” Gwen pulled the girl’s attention from the cast. Isha nodded. “How’s your head now?” The girl gave a thumbs up, her hand still shaking. “Are you sure?” The medic pressed but Isha just nodded. Gwen stood tall as she spoke, collecting her things. “Alright. Then you’re good to go. Take it easy and come back if anything bothers you. Okay?” Gwen made her way to the door with a reassuring smile. Isha just watched as she left the room. As soon as Gwen was gone, Isha pushed herself off the bed. She reached for her plushies, her arm just too short to reach. Ekko gathered the two toys and held them out for her to take. She took the shark, holding it to her chest.
“Are you okay walking back? I can–” Ekko cut himself off when she nodded. He stayed close beside her as they walked back to the treehouse in the fading sunlight. He was ready if she fell, if she tripped. He wouldn’t fail again. But he could see her gaze drift about the base. He knew what she was looking for; he didn’t have the heart to tell her. When he opened the door, Isha scanned over the room. Still nothing. He knew there was nothing here. Clothes and blankets and tinkering scraps littered the floor. Isha pushed aside the things in her way with her foot, before fully entering the room. Ekko didn’t want to tell her. She didn’t need more on her shoulders. But she deserved to know. He stood by the closed door, lips parted but the words were lost on his tongue as he watched her turn over blankets and check under the desk. Eventually, she met his eyes and signed the one thing she’d said since she woke up.
“Mama?”
“She’ll be back.” He said. She would. She just needed time alone. That’s all. She’d be back soon. It had happened before. He should be used to it by now. Isha’s shoulders slumped as she sat on the mattress, placing the shark on her lap. Ekko sat at her side and offered the bunny. She took it, letting it rest against the shark. Ekko rubbed the girl’s back the moment he’d noticed the tears she wouldn’t let spill.
-- ⧖ --
Ekko didn’t sleep that night. He just sat, slumped over the desk, twirling a pen in his fingers. Jinx’s projects had been pushed aside, a few landing on the floor. One might’ve broken. He’d fix it later. Ekko checked on Isha more often than he’d like to admit, carefully pressing fingers to her neck. She was alive, pulse steady. But something about her now faded headache didn’t sit right with him. There’d been so much blood. He swore it still stained his hands, though he’d washed them. Frankly, he was just thankful it stopped. Maybe it was a one-time thing. Maybe she’d fallen on her head too and it was just a small cut. The head tends to bleed a lot no matter what. But with his worry about the girl lessening, the other problem seemed to grow. What was he supposed to say to her when she came back? If she came back. No, no. She wouldn’t just leave. Especially not with Isha still here. He’d work it out and everything would go back to normal. Ekko scrawled down a few sentences, trying to keep his handwriting neat.
Dear Jinx, I hope you are safe, wherever you are. Isha is okay. She just needs time to heal. Whatever you’re worried about, we can work through together. You shouldn’t—
He crossed it out and crumbled the paper, tossing it into the room’s mess. It was such a stupid idea. He didn’t even know where she was, let alone how to get a letter to her. Besides, she wouldn’t like her name on it. She’d probably say something like “What if someone else found it? Then what, Firefly?” She’d be right too. He would be breaking his promise. All for a stupid letter. But he still tried again.
To my dearest Blue, I hope you get this. Though I don’t know how you would, you always have a way of surprising me. Wherever you are, I hope you’re okay. I just wanted to tell you that Isha’s okay. She’s awake and says that her head doesn’t hurt anymore. She just needs time for her arm to heal. What happened is in no way your fault, no matter how much you might think it is. It was an accident. You couldn’t have known she’d go back. If anything, I should’ve Please come home. She misses you. I miss you. We never got a chance for our rematch race. Though, that’ll have to wait for now. The medic says that Isha might have a hard time healing, something about the cause of her scars. Take the time you need, but please just come home. She needs you. I need you. I can’t We’ll be here whenever you’re ready. I will wait for you.
– Your Boy Savior
He folded up the note, sealing it and placing it on the windowsill. He watched her spot in the branches as the leaves rustled in the midnight breeze. She’d be back. She just needed time. So, he waited, eyes keen on that branch as he rested his head in his arms until his exhaustion took over.
A day passed with no sign of her. Ekko took care of Isha as best he could, though both of their minds were elsewhere. Isha didn’t ask to play, or go see her friend. She barely signed at all, her gaze blank and her expression unreadable. She’d spent most of her time watching the clouds slowly drift across the sky, her shark plush always within reach. Ekko still tried to make sure her recovery went smoothly, making sure she ate and didn’t push herself. All while waiting for her to come back, to answer his letter, to show herself. But nothing. Now, late into another night, he rested his head in his hands, watching the stars blink down at him through the cloudy darkness. Ekko forced himself to stay awake. She moved at night. That much he knew. If he was lucky maybe he could catch sight of her. Even if for just a moment. Even if just for confirmation that she was okay. He’d tucked Isha into bed hours ago. Or at least he thought it’d been hours. Time seemed to slow and yet go far too fast. It was just slow enough to feel the missing presence, but too fast to keep track of. He slowly blinked his tired eyes closed. A few moments’ rest wouldn’t hurt. He was just resting his eyes. That’s all. Then the door loudly thumped shut. Ekko shot up, whipping his head around. He got to his feet immediately, darting out after her. He took the steps two at time, almost falling as he sprinted after her. He called her name, but she didn’t stop. She was surprisingly fast despite her injuries. But he caught her nonetheless. Just before the guards shut the exit from the base. Isha clawed at him, kicking and driving her fist into his arms. Little sounds of protest slipped through her lips.
“Isha.” Ekko took the hits, sure of the bruises that’d form later. But she just cried, her blows hitting hard against his shoulders. “Isha, stop! Isha!” The girl didn’t care about his raised voice. She just pushed herself from him, trying desperately to break from his grip but he wouldn’t let her. She kept kicking again and again, tears tracing her cheeks as she reached out, but he didn’t let her, his embrace tight and unyielding. After a minute, though, she slowed, her heavy breaths and weariness seemingly catching up to her as her blows became half-hearted. Isha gave into her exhaustion, slumping against Ekko’s shoulder, her tears soaking his shirt. He rubbed her back, offering what little comfort he could as he carefully took her back upstairs. The girl’s fist tightly gripped his shirt as if it could tether her. Ekko locked the door behind him. He bent by the mattress, trying to pull her off, but Isha wouldn’t let go. Her little nails dug into his skin. He sighed, settling into the armchair by the window. Ekko fell asleep in that chair, his arm around her sleeping girl, hoping at least that she was alive.
-- ⧖ --
To my dearest Blue, Isha tried to run away last night. She’s looking for you. She misses her Mama. She can’t keep doing this. Her injuries will stop her before I know you’re hiding. Please just tell me where. We can all go. I can take Isha right now and we’d be past the city limit before midnight. Just like I told you. If you really hate this city and want to leave, just let us come with you. You don’t even have to let me come. Just tell me where and I’ll bring Isha to you. She deserves to be with you. You may not share the same blood but she loves you like she does. You can’t just deny her the Please, at least just tell me you’re okay. Just tell me you still care. Just tell me you’re alive.
– Your Boy Savior
-- ⧖ --
Time moved slowly as the weeks blended together. Wake up, check on Isha, get breakfast, meetings, get lunch, more meetings, dinner, bed. It was a sick cycle. Everything felt almost like it did before. Almost like before that day on the bridge. Except now, he had a tiny reminder of her on his heels at all times. He couldn’t tell which day was which, especially not with the lack of sleep due to nights spent trying to find her figure in the darkness. It was starting to make his mind slower, less attentive. It had shown him scenarios of her he’d never wish on anyone. Maybe she’d bled out in the street. Maybe she’d starved at the edge of the city. Maybe she’d been arrested and thrown in Stillwater. Maybe Piltover had considered Stillwater too gracious for her crimes. Maybe she’d been attacked by the remains of the chembaron’s goons. Maybe she’d done it herself. Janna, he wished it wasn’t that one.
Either way, Gwen’s two week recommendation was up. Ekko carefully shook Isha’s good shoulder. She lifted her head lazily, her eyes still bleary from sleep. Her faded blue curls spilled from the little braids that still sat on her shoulders. He’d offered to redo them, but the girl had refused.
“Morning, Bug.” He offered a smile, hoping she wouldn’t notice the dark circles that definitely lined his eyes. Isha raised her hand in a little wave. “We gotta go see Gwen. She’s gonna check on your arm.” Ekko said but Isha just groaned, pulling the blanket over her face.
“C’mon. It won’t take that long.” He promised as he lifted her from her spot on the chair and put her on her own two feet. The blanket still lay over her head like an oversized hood. Isha took the corners of the fabric letting it rest over her shoulders as she flopped backward onto the mattress. The shark plush lay on her chest as she fidgetted with its fins. “Ish, please. This is important.” He ran a hand through his hair and sat beside her. But she still didn’t move, instead turning her head so he was out of her line of sight. “I’ll get you whatever candy you want on the way back.” He offered. The girl’s fingers paused as she considered her options. She examined Ekko’s expression as if searching for the lie he wasn’t telling. Satisfied with her findings, she pushed herself to her feet. Isha took down Ekko’s notepad, flipping past his messy notes and half-written messages. She wrote in big, unsteady letters: chocolate.
“Alright.” Ekko cracked a small smile. “When we’re done, I’ll get you some chocolate.” He gently ruffled her hair as she walked out.
Ekko led her down to the infirmary, her little hand in his as she dragged her feet. Gwen stood at the back of the room, talking ecstatically to a taller Firelight, Sonya, whose messy blonde hair was falling from its bun in long waves. Isha had moved closer to Ekko when she noticed the other Firelights. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Gwen to notice them. She ended her conversation with a quick kiss to Sonya’s cheek and offered a friendly wave that Isha barely returned as she came over. Gwen shot Ekko a quick look.
“Woke up late.” He said simply. Gwen bent to Isha’s level, a kind smile on her lips.
“C’mon,” She offered her hand. Isha didn’t take it. “Let’s check on your arm.” Gwen led them into the back room, gesturing for Isha to sit on the bed. The girl obeyed and the medic examined the cast. “How’s it feeling? Any problems?” She asked. Isha offered a tentative thumbs up.
“Alright,” Gwen met Isha’s wide eyes. “We’re gonna take a look, okay?” The girl nodded and Gwen began pulling back the bandages. Once they were off, she gently laid Isha’s arm at her side. “Does it hurt if I do that?” Isha shook her head. Gwen hummed, brows furrowed as she thought.
“Do you mind if I try something?” Isha shrugged. “Just tell me if it hurts, okay?” Gwen said. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Isha nodded and Gwen lifted her arm, bending it at the elbow toward the girl’s face.
“Anything?” The medic asked. Isha shook her head. “Hmm.” She took Isha’s hand and lifted it high. “How ‘bout now?” Isha shook her head again, now matching Gwen’s curious expression. The medic laid the girl’s arm down by her side.
“Can you bend your fingers for me?” Gwen asked and Ekko watched as Isha did as she was told, her left hand balling into a fist and releasing. “Your right, silly.” Gwen corrected, clearly trying to bring some lightness to the situation. Ekko could just barely see the girl’s other hand. Isha nodded, meeting Gwen’s gaze. Nothing.
“Hmm.” Gwen hummed with a smile that faltered at the edges. “We’re gonna wrap it again. Give it some more time. How’s that?” Isha nodded. “Could my assistant Sonya help you so I can talk to Ekko? Is that okay?” The head medic asked and Isha’s wide, golden gaze was on him.
“Whatever you want, Bug.” He offered. Isha gave a nod to Gwen, who returned it. She left the room, returning a moment later with the blonde woman from her earlier conversation. As soon as Sonya had begun to work, Gwen gestured for Ekko to follow her outside. It was colder than the fall afternoon should’ve been. Quieter too, as if the whole world was holding its breath. Even the insects and leaves in the tree were silent. Ekko couldn’t help the way his eyes drifted over the base once again. Nothing. Gwen met his gaze, her feigned smile gone.
“Her fingers didn’t move.” He muttered, running a hand through his hair.
“I know.”
“Then why wrap it again?”
“She’s clearly going through something mentally. I’ve never had a kid be so afraid of me.” Gwen said. “Besides, when you brought her in she seemed to have more pain in her head than her arm.”
“So?” Ekko questioned. “Her head’s fine now.”
“Has she told you about any headaches recently?”
“No.”
“Has she had a hard time falling asleep?”
“That’s separate.” He insisted.
“How?”
“She just misses her mom.” He said. “She stays awake all night waiting for her.” Maybe she was just out of his line of sight. Right by his side. He just didn’t know it yet. She’d call him over soon. She’d tell him soon. She’d show herself soon. He just needed to wait. Both him and Isha just needed to wait. She’d be back soon enough.
“Okay.” Gwen exhaled. “I assume you stay up with her?”
“...yeah.” Ekko mumbled.
“Is there any chance her mother’s out there or able to see her? Any way she could–”
“Maybe.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “I don’t know. But her mother isn’t important right now.”
“Right.” Gwen nodded. “Then we’ll check on Isha again in a few weeks, but… Ekko, if she can’t twitch her fingers, I don’t…” The medic trailed off as she ran her fingers through her short hair.
“She can’t recover. Can she?” He said, quietly. He didn’t want to believe it. Gwen wouldn’t let him meet her eyes.
“It’s not impossible. Just…unlikely.” She offered. “I think it has something to do with her brain and–” Ekko cut her tumbling words off, returning inside. He took a steadying breath before entering the back room. Isha sat stiff-shouldered on the bed as Sonya spoke, trying to bring some levity to the room as she placed the girl’s arm into the sling.
“Ekko,” She chimed, too bright. Did she know what was happening? Did she know this girl’s fate? “Isha’s all set. I was just telling her the hard shell of these casts are really fun to draw on. Heard you had an artist.” Sonya smiled and Ekko noticed the beginnings of one pulling at Isha’s lips. At least before he stepped forward.
“Thanks, Sonya.” Ekko said and Isha hopped off the bed.
“Of course.” The medic waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Be sure to come back if there’s any problems. I’ll be happy to fix anything that comes up.” Isha waved a small goodbye as he led her out.
-- ⧖ --
The days were long but the nights were always longer, full of unshed tears, regret, and failing hope. Isha lay asleep against his chest, her fists around his shirt like she was afraid he’d disappear. The shark plush was wedged between them, under her head like a pillow. The weight on her shoulders still showed even when asleep. Ekko held her through the nightmares, through the calls for her. But there was nothing he could do to fix it. All he could do was wait for her. She’d taken long enough. Weeks had been wasted, tears fallen, sleep lost. Surely, Isha’s patience was running thin too.
To my dearest Blue, I don’t know if you read these. Hell, I don’t know why I write them. But I’m tired. I bet you are too. It’s been weeks. You can ignore me. You can hide from me. You can hate me. But I’m still looking out for Isha. I hope she’s at least crossed your mind. She’s begging for you. She won’t sign anything but your name. If not for me, come back for her. I can accept that you don’t care like I do. I can accept that you’re different. But I can’t accept that you are so heartless to ignore your own to let her suffer like this. We both know what she’s feeling. We’ve both been left alone too soon. Are you really so cruel that you’d hide while she cries for you every night? While she runs despite her pain to try to find you? You’re all she has. If not for me, come back for her. You can take her and run. I don’t care. Just tell me when and where and I will bring her to you. Then you’ll finally be able to erase yourself like you’ve always wanted.
– Your Boy Savior
-- ⧖ --
It’d been eating at his mind for days, ever since she left. As each hour passed it felt as if the walls were closing in, cracks stretching through the concrete where only he could see. How long had it been? He wasn’t sure. Ekko had been using any and all of his off-time to keep an eye on Isha. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d fallen asleep with her in his arms, refusing to let go as her dreams haunted her. Now, he ran a hand through his tangled hair, lacking its usual metal cuffs. He sat at the head of the round table, his gaze set on the maps before him. The many conversations were dull against his thoughts. This single piece of paper showed so many places, anywhere from Demacia to Ionia. She had to be somewhere. Right? She wouldn’t… Would she?
“Ekko.” Briana snapped her fingers. Ekko blinked, his attention shifting to the young woman in front of him. Her bird-like mask sat atop her thick, dark curls. “You with us?” She asked. Ekko nodded stiffly.
“Are you sure?” Scar chimed in. “You don’t…look good.” He chose his words carefully. Scar knew what was bothering him. He knew she was gone. Ekko knew it shouldn’t bother him as much as it did. She’d run from him so many times and yet it still stung all the same. Why did she keep running? Did he drive her away? Whatever he’d done he’d swear to make it up to her.
“I’m fine.”
“Okay.” Briana muttered, then pointed to various spots across a different map. One in northern Piltover, one at the middle of Zaun, one at the center of the Bridge of Progress, and two just outside the twin cities. “Here’s where the Pilties are placing their reinforcements.”
“That’s where the Last Drop was.” Scar said.
“Yeah,” Bri circled the area with a yellow highlighter. “The Kiramman was seen there the past few days. She’s building something.”
“And the chembarons?” Ekko chimed in.
“No word.” Scar said simply.
“Good.” The Firelight leader sighed. “One thing at a time.”
“You wanna check it out?” Bri suggested, her hand already resting on her mask.
“Scar and Bri with me.” Ekko stood, his voice booming over the full room. “The rest of you are dismissed.” As the Firelights began drifting out to the field, he spoke. “Evelyn, a word?” The woman pushed her way against the flow of people.
“Can you watch Isha while I’m out?”
“Of course, of course. She’s always welcome.” Evelyn smiled. “When should we expect you back?”
“Tomorrow morning.” Ekko said. “This’ll probably run long. I’ll bring her to you as soon as we’re done here.”
“Perfect.” The woman nodded, her smile unwavering. He offered a wave as she left the room. “You know where to find me.” Evelyn shut the door behind her. Ekko laid his hands on the table, leaning over the map before him.
“I’ll go in and check first.” Ekko narrated, pointing to the large circle Bri had drawn. “Kiramman and I have talked about borders before.”
“Okay, so Bri and I will wait here and here.” Scar tapped two spots on either side.
“Fine.” Bri crossed her arms over her chest. “But when you give the signal, I’m gonna punch her in the jaw.”
“Relax, Bri.” Ekko shook his head. “Even if I give the signal, we’ll still need her to talk.”
“It was one time!” Bri drawled, spreading her hands.
“Two times.” Scar corrected. Bri shot him a glare.
“Let’s not waste anymore time.” Ekko said with finality and strode to the door. The other Firelights exchanged a look but followed nonetheless. They turned to get their boards as Ekko went up the stairs to the treehouse. His mask hung on the back of the door. He took it down quickly. Isha sat on the floor, all the oil crayons strewn around her as she drew on her cast, except curiously the pink and blue which sat untouched in the box. Ekko tried to meet her gaze, offering the semblance of a smile.
“I’m gonna take you to Evelyn for a bit.” He explained. “You can play with Amelia while I’m gone.” Isha paused, tilting her head in question, hand still around the crayon. He shrugged on his jacket. It smelled like her: gunpowder, axle grease, and paint. “I just gotta check something.” Isha stood, taking up her helmet and placing it over her curls. She grabbed the hem of his jacket, following closely as he made his way back into the field. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” Ekko said and her grip on his jacket tightened. “It won’t be long. Evelyn’ll take good care of you.” Isha shook her head fervently when they arrived. He knocked on the door and soon enough Evelyn opened it. Isha hid behind him, not loosening her grip on his jacket. “You can’t come.”
“I promise, I don’t bite.” Evelyn smiled, trying to ease the situation. Isha’s wide, golden eyes flicked between the adults. Ekko couldn’t shake the anxiety that lined them. “You’ve gotta trust me. I’ll be back.” He squeezed her shoulder, trying to calm the nerves that made the girl’s shoulders stiff and her eyes wide and her hand shake. Isha shot one more glance at Evelyn before focusing on Ekko. She silently raised her pinky. Promise?
“I promise.” He swore, wrapping her little finger with his. “I’ll be back tomorrow. You won’t even notice I’m gone.” He offered a reassuring smile as Isha’s grasp finally released his jacket. She dragged her feet as she crossed into the small hut. Evelyn moved aside, welcoming the girl inside. Amelia ran to Isha from the shadows, a bright grin already in place.
“Careful, Amelia!” Evelyn chided. Amelia didn’t care. She took Isha’s hand, dragging the other girl farther inside.
“Come on, Isha!” She exclaimed. “I gotta show you my drawings!” Ekko watched as Isha glanced over her shoulder and the door was closed. He took a breath, squaring his shoulders before meeting Scar and Bri in the center of the field.
“Didn’t know you’d gone soft.” Bri mocked, a cocky smirk on her lips. Scar elbowed her but she just scoffed. Ekko ignored her.
“Let’s move.” He slid his mask over his face.
It didn’t take long to get to the old Last Drop, not with the tunnels and the hoverboards beneath their feet. Ekko stood on the edge, above the center of the city. Bri and Scar were not far behind. Wooden posts stood where the old bar had been. Some had been connected, but the frame was unfinished and there she stood. The Kiramman heir stood in the center of the site, a paper tucked under her arm, a pencil resting on her ear as she surveyed the area. Ekko signaled to Scar and Bri and the two split up, taking off in each direction. Ekko dropped down to the ground and dismounted his board. Caitlyn looked up at the sound.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, voice distorted through the mask.
“Hello, Ekko.” Caitlyn gave a disingenuous smile and rubbed her temple, readjusting the cover over her lost eye. Then a loud crash, pulled his attention. He pulled out his club, poised for the fight to come. Vi stood at the far edge of the frame, twirling a hammer in her grip, dust settling by her boots.
“Hey, hey, Little Man.” She grinned. “What’re you doing here?”
“I could ask the same of you.” Ekko didn’t return her tone. “I thought you decided to live topside.” Vi’s smile faded, but she covered it quickly, combing a hand through her pink hair.
“This hellhole is still my home. Even if I don’t live here anymore.”
“And her?” He pressed.
“She’s with me.” Vi insisted, her tone serious, final.
“Then why have my scouts seen her down here alone?” Ekko questioned. Vi turned to Caitlyn, brows furrowed. She didn’t know? Of course she didn’t know. How else would Caitlyn plan to–
“Is that where all the rubble went?” Vi asked, a soft smile pulling at her lips. Caitlyn shrugged guiltily.
“I had the day off.” She said, matching Vi’s smile. “I thought I’d help.”
“We don’t need your help here, Kiramman.” He spat.
“Ekko, relax.” Vi reached out but he didn’t let her.
“Did you already forget what she did?”
“I thought the Firelights were all for supporting the undercity.” Caitlyn interjected. “That’s all we’re trying to do.”
“C’mon, Ekko.” Vi sighed. “She’s just trying to help.” Ekko took a breath, shooting a glare at Caitlyn.
“Whose project is it?”
“Mine.” Vi answered quickly, her grip on the tool tightening. She paused, exhaling and loosening her grip. Her shoulders relaxed. “Now, are you gonna take off that stupid mask and help or stand there like an ass?” Ekko paused, weighing his options for just a moment before removing his mask. He whistled a two note tune and swiftly Scar and Bri were at his side. Both exchanged a look.
“Go home.” Ekko said simply.
“What?”
“It’s just Vi.” He ran a hand through his hair. Bri stepped forward, ready to argue before Scar pulled her back. The two left, the quiet hum of their board vanishing into the tunnel.
“Ugh. Why do I bother?” Bri’s fading voice complained. “Nothing ever happens.”
“They could’ve helped.” Vi chimed in. “We could use—”
“You get four hours.” Ekko said, voice low as his eyes narrowed at the Kiramman. “That’s it.”
“Don’t feel like you have to–” Caitlyn started but he cut her off.
“Don’t worry. I’m not doing it for you.”
“Okay.” Vi said, trying to lighten the situation’s tension. “Ekko, you can come with me and wrap up the basic structure.” She walked back toward where she’d been before. Ekko followed, hooking his mask onto his belt. As soon as they were out of earshot from Caitlyn, Vi spoke again.
“What’s wrong?” She handed him the hammer.
“What?” He took it.
“I know you don’t like her, but this,” She gestured to him. “Seems worse than usual.”
“Maybe she’s just pissing me off more than usual.” Ekko shot back. Vi just shrugged, lining up the wooden board and handing him a nail.
“How have the Firelights been?” She asked, changing the subject, holding the board in place as he lined up the hardware.
“We’re fine.” He said, aggressively driving the nail into the wood. Vi was quiet by his side, looking at him like she could piece him apart. Ekko ignored her, hitting the nail again and again. It bent at an odd angle, the head denting the wood. He groaned as he pulled it back out.
“Relax.” Vi said, handing him another. “We have plenty.” This one went in nicely. Then another. Vi moved, holding up the other side of the board. Ekko followed.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” She offered.
“I want to.” He argued. “It’s better if my mind’s busy.”
“What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.” Ekko insisted.
“Doesn’t seem like nothing. You just bent another nail.” She pointed out. He sighed and pulled it out. “At this rate, you’re gonna break one. Just tell me. Maybe I can help.” Ekko sighed, twirling the new nail in his fingers.
“She left me. Again. No note. No nothing.” He hit the nail into the wood with a single swing. “She just disappeared without a word and I just — ugh!”
“Sounds rough.” Vi took up another board and handed him more nails.
“It doesn’t matter.” Ekko tried to convince himself. “She always does this.”
“What do you mean?”
“She always leaves when the first thing goes wrong. Then she hides from me and I’m just so tired of looking for her.”
“How long has she been gone?” Vi asked softly.
“I don’t…like three weeks.”
“Hmm.” Vi paused, thinking. “Well, does she have a place she usually runs to?”
“I guess, but I checked there already.”
“I’d check again.” The pink-haired woman suggested. “You’d be surprised how many times people narrowly miss each other. I mean, the amount of times I saw you in the shadows before I knew it was you.”
“You saw me?”
“Not really.” She chuckled. “I saw a figure, but chalked it up to blood loss. I figured it out later.” She took a breath, most of the levity leaving her voice. “Look, my advice: give her one more chance. If she still doesn’t show, that’s her decision. Don’t waste your time on someone who doesn’t care enough to check on you.” Ekko paused.
“…thanks, Vi.” He said. “I’m glad you’re still here.”
“Glad you’re here too, Little Man.” She playfully elbowed him, a bright grin on her lips. “I’m happy to help. We’re gonna make this place just like back then.”
“Like a hole in time.” Ekko mumbled.
“Yeah.” Vi agreed. “Like a hole in time.” Footsteps approached and the two turned. Caitlyn stood with a large paper in her hands.
“Sorry to interrupt.” She said. “Violet, Darling, you said the door to the basement goes over there?” She pointed.
“Yeah.”
“And then on the left side of the room is..?”
“The stairs to the office.” Vi explained.
“Ah.” Caitlyn made a note on the paper before stabbing the pencil into her bun. “Okay, okay.” She muttered to herself as she walked away.
“Oh, Cupcake!” Vi called after her. “We need more nails! We’re out!”
“On it!” Caitlyn called back.
-- ⧖ --
Ekko spent the rest of his day there, helping Vi. He’d talked to Caitlyn when he had to, choosing more often than not to ignore her presence all together. By now, the sun had set and the two women had gone home. The moon and stars poked through the smog of the city, their light pale and cold. Ekko drifted through the tunnels back to the base, not bothering to replace his mask. He wiped sweat from his brow as the door was opened. The moonlight covered the base, dulling its color. Ekko stuffed his hands into his pockets as he made his way back to the treehouse. He’d get Isha in the morning, like he promised. For now, he just needed to… To what? Wait? No, he was tired of waiting. The door creaked open and he pushed aside the crayons that covered the desk. He wrote one last letter for her, placing it on the stack. One final letter, where he finally let loose the tension in his chest. Where he let himself be angry with her, let himself want to let her go and yet want her back just as desperately.
To my dearest Blue, I’m tired. I’m tired of writing to you with no sign you’re even alive. I’m sick of waiting. I’m sick of you running from me every chance you get. I’m sick of spending my nights thinking about the ways you could be suffering and yet too damn stubborn to call for help. I’m sick of praying you’ll come back when we both know you wouldn’t have reached out to me first, not even back then. I’ve been waiting for nine years for you to come back to me. Maybe having you for just one of those was good enough. Maybe you’re just trying to push me farther away. Well, it’s working. Are you happy now? I’m just so tired, Pow. People need me and here I am wasting away over you and I bet you haven’t thought of me once. You’ve wanted to leave since you got back. I guess you just needed a good enough reason. I’ll be there tonight. One last chance. But I am tired of waiting. Please come home. I miss you. I need you. I’ll wait one more night. Just one. I’ve spent too much time waiting for you. I won’t waste any more. I’ve given you all I can. If you really don’t care, then neither will I. I’ll find a new I’ll care for I’ll make sure No matter what you choose, I’ll keep your girl safe. Even if you won’t.
– Ekko