Shoot Faster

by hadenough

Summary:

Silco is her man.
For that, she will protect him and come whenever called.

Chapter 1: Legacy

In his older and more vulnerable years, Silco still uses a gun. Not as often—not anymore—because he doesn’t have to. He has a BLUE BOMBER for that. Everyone who comes near him with ill intent will undoubtedly get Jinxed! How many heads will have to roll before they learn their lesson? How many eyes will she shut before they stop trying to hurt her dad? No one touches a hair on his head. 

Silco is her man.
For that, she will protect him and come whenever called. 

Jinx will smell trouble before it hits the air. 

Thus, he feels confident to wield charm, power, and charisma instead of bombs and bullets. Never his style, anyway. He always preferred the heft of a Molotov cocktail, ready to light up the town and rifle through the ash later.

When someone threatens Silco, Jinx silences their balking.
When a Chem Baron gets too big for their britches, Jinx scoops them up by their waistbands and puts them on an embarrassing display for all to see. 

Take a good look! Cause this could be you!

SO! BACK OFF! Or face the consequences of his wrath through her hand—and her wrath, too. Every slight at him is a personal attack on her. She takes things very, very seriously these days, exactly as he told her. He said many times…Oh, how had it gone again? 

“Jinx,” she recalls him saying. “When the time comes, I need you to act swiftly. Act without hesitation, without remorse or guilt. Do whatever you have to do to survive.”  

And she took that personally. Through that, she heard what he said, sure, but what he meant, as far as she could tell, was to do whatever it takes to save his life. So, when the wrong person pulls a gun on her father…
…She shoots from a distance—and she shoots to kill. 

No mixed messages!

Each time, she pulls her gun a little faster, more confident, and with less hesitation. 

Just like he taught her to, and he should be proud. In the depths of his office, privately tucked away, he pets her head and informs her that all her jobs are well done, and for each success, his pride leaps a little higher. For every failure, he marks it off the board, takes it to heart, and cleans up her messes. Mistakes made, he would argue, only because he encouraged her incorrectly, or that they are his errors in the first place, so the criticism belongs to him. Shielding her from this world is both the best and worst thing he could do for a girl like Jinx. 

Still, while he does not keep her in a tower, he does keep her in his heart. 

Ah! So, one has to wonder: Which is worse? Being the bird? Or being the cage?

“Are you…sick? Like, REALLY sick? ” she asks one day. Same time, same place. Injecting him like a dutiful daughter. When she’s finished, she presses the topic again. This time, she’s less confident, coming with a little cooler. “Are you…?” 

“ Going to die? Someday, yes.” He accepts it so easily. She hates him for that. Besides, this is definitely his favorite subject. It’s like he gets off on it or something. I hate it! Bemoaning his death—the pivotal points he has died before this, reborn a new man, and the one time he will for sure—is all but what gets him going these days. “Hopefully not soon, but eventually…I will be gone from this world. Forgotten, even. ” 

“I won’t forget you. I won’t let anyone else forget either.” 

She makes that promise because, should Silco expire early, dip out on them, she won’t let the world go unturned. 

Wanna see a dog off her leash for real?
Come on! Don’t ya wanna see if I bite hard or not? 

“Good.” He expects nothing less. Jinx is his legacy, the mark he will truly leave on the world, and Zaun is her kingdom. He will make it come to her, bow at the knee, and serve their master righteously. Where he failed, she will not. “I would hope not. As long as you remember me, Jinx…that I was here, and that I was alive…then that’s all that matters. We have each other.” A delay. “We need nothing else but that. I have you, girl, and you have…”

“I have you,” Jinx finishes. 

“Hm.”

Does he get off on withholding from her? Making her pry it out of him? What pleasure could this bring him besides a manipulative understanding that is in control? Is that what this is about? Control? He doesn’t control her; arguably, she barely listens, but he is in control of her. Is there a difference? When he asks her to do something, it might be roundabout in her pursuit, but she does it. Jinx always performs for him, and in return, he does the same. 

Father always delivers. 

“I do, right?” she tests. She doesn’t like it when he gets like this, so moody and borderline shady. “If you have me, then I have you. That’s how it’s always been. How it’ll always be.” 

“When I’m gone,” he starts.

“You won’t be,” she determines. “Not for a long time. When you talk like that…? I hate it.” 

“The reality of our situation is painful,” he admits. “But in that pain, there is revelation. Our time together has been…” She bites her lip. He chokes, blaming it on the heaviness of his thick cigar smoke. He looks to the window, away from her, and says that, “It’s meant more to me…” 

“More to you…?” 

But Silco never finishes that thought. Not then, not ever, and she thinks about it often. 

If he was going to, what would he have said? The Old Man…What, that it—aha! That it meant more to him than anything before? Heh, probably. He’s so sensitive! Sentimental like that.

“I’m leaving it all to you,” he tells her. “Everything. My legacy, my life. Everything I ever wanted to accomplish; everything I did…” And everything he will not. Everything he never could. “...Zaun itself. Our nation and our freedom. The future. ” 

“That’s too much,” she conveys, half-desperate. “When you’re gone, I’ll probably mess it up. Burn it down.” 

“Then,” he tells her, “watch it burn.” 

Chapter 2: Tango

Summary:

One step forward, two steps back. Like a cursed tango, they dance until he dies.

Silco does several things that Jinx has noticed over the years. 

He touches his face often. Two fingers will drape down the side of his unhealing wound. 

When he does this, he is always contemplative. 

He usually favors heavier things with his left hand. He uses his right to do things like hold his cigars and bottles of Shimmer, as well as point angrily at her when he scolds a wrongdoing or chides a mistake. She’s assumed he’s a dominant righty, but she’s noticed he’s rather ambidextrous when it counts. 

Finally, he is the most expressive and verbose man she has ever known. Figures she ever will from here on out. There will never be another man like Silco. 

Not for Zaun and never for her. 

Men like Silco are self-made. She knew that from the start, too comfortable to throw herself into his arms. He was the only one around; an adult who came for her, a child alone. She saw the knife, heard his voice, and from her vantage point in the window, she knew Silco was supposed to be the bad guy.

At least, that’s what Vi would have said before.
This was the man who took Vander. 

And yet? Vander died. So did Mylo and Claggor. Then, Vi dubbed Powder a problem—A JINX!—and dismissed her entirely. She left her in the rain with Vander’s body, shrieking for her sister to come back. Abandoned, Powder took her leap of faith. Given grace and understanding, she clung to him, and he told her they would show them all. 

A promise she would never forget.
HIS GRACE and HIS UNDERSTANDING. 

And Vi? 

Sisters, huh! Can’t live with ‘em, can’t…

She’s lived without Vi for a long time.
Silco is her man, and she’ll stay by his side. 

Silco would never abandon her, and he would never leave her. He should know better than to lie to her, but he will, because he always does, and she forgives him, because she always will. Sometimes it just takes a bit of…Oh, what do they say? COMING TO AN UNDERSTANDING? Yeah! She makes him understand, of course. He always seems to get the hint after. 

They aren’t hints, Old Man. It’s the real deal.

It’s that raw energy he seems to pick up on. To it, he responds well enough. She’s quirky, and he noticed that immediately once she came out of her shell. Silco has never tried to curtail or inhibit her eccentricities. Instead, he’s only encouraged her to be fully herself. 

Jinx is perfect—so long as she is Jinx.

Powder was a problem.  

For every stroke, he’s matched her beat for beat. Even for an old guy, he’s pretty on the cuff! She has to give him that. While he’s not as high energy as she is, he matches her with a baritone response, and they make something of a neat duo. 

Were they a pair of birds, something like larks, they would croon best together. Caged birds always sing best and brightest. What are they if not caged, and how loud could they cry! 

“You know,” she drawls, leaning over the bar, “s’kinda boring around here sometimes.” 

“It can be,” he entertains. “Sometimes.” 

He doesn’t tell her how he used to stand in this exact spot with Vander behind the bar, and her mother…

Ah, she used to stand in that exact spot, didn’t she?

That was a long time ago, and there’s no point in digging up the past. Not when they’re having such a good time tonight, he playing faux bartender and she, virgin mocktails, using a straw to swirl around her decorated cup. 

“Don’t you want some excitement around here?” 

“Trust me,” he soothes, pouring himself a shot, “it will get plenty exciting soon enough.”

Between drinks, he touches his face, and she notices it’s been several times tonight. Must be a lot of deep thinking going on in that noggin of his, so she figures she might as well ask. 

“What’s up with you tonight?” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re so…mopey. All the time, lately. What’s the deal?” 

“There is no deal. I’m merely…” It’s getting closer to that day. The day I ruined everything. The day Vander betrayed me. The day everything went wrong…and all the day after… “I have a lot of work to do.” 

“So, why’re we down here and not up there, huh?” 

There is no singular unit regarding Silco, only a package deal. Even when she isn’t with him, she’s on the tongues of everyone he meets. Their minds can’t help but think of her name when they see his face. 

They are aware that if Silco is there, Jinx must not be too far behind. 

If he’s working, then she’s tinkering, either in his office or at her hideout. If not tinkering, then being a general menace on the streets of Zaun. She’s been having a great time shooting down Ekko’s little flying thingies. He’ll get it someday.

And he’ll learn to stop being such an easy target! Sheesh!

Got a problem with Jinx? Who doesn’t? YAWN. Go to Silco.
It never pans out for them, but hey! Worth a try! Don’t try, ya never know.

“What, nothing to say? Come on, you’re the guy who has a million monologues up his sleeve at any given time.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Well…yeah,” she says. Pouting, she slurps up the rest of her drink, slams her cup down, and slides in closer to his side. “Come on, Old Man. You’re always a little, uh, what’s the word? Moody, I guess, but…” 

“Moody?” he asks. Good brow quirks, silently requesting her to elaborate. “How so?” 

Why not drive the point home? Give me an answer I find acceptable. That’s how he always is. Elbows on the bar, he tilts his head, takes his shot, and contemplates pouring another. Instead, he reaches for a pack of abandoned cigarettes, forgotten by a regular he’s sure, and steals one to light. 

When his lighter fails him, and in a moment of frustration, he tosses it aside. It bounces off the bar’s expansive top, hitting a bottle of brown liquor on a back shelf, and Silco waits to see if it’ll crack. When it doesn’t, he exhales and immediately sulks over his broken lighter again. 

The damn things hardly work down here. He’ll have to import a box of them from Topside soon. 

“Yep! See? Definitely moody.” That’s all he’s getting.  

“...” 

“Anyway, what was I saying again? Oh! You’re moody, but you’re never so quiet.” 

That’s not entirely true. In reality, she fills a lot of the silence they share. Silco is a good listener, he always has been, and such a diligent trait has paid off in his favor. Having a daughter means having four ears, not two. Not only must he listen, but also hear her. Often, Silco hears what he wants to, but he is trying. For her sake, at least, if not a little for his own, too.

And maybe more his skin than anything else. A woman scorned is like hell, so they say, but Jinx scorned? Is triple the inferno and double the explosion. If he wrongs her, neither will leave unscathed. 

She’ll take herself out with him if it means proving her point. 

“I have a lot on my mind,” he admits. 

He’s more honest with her than most, but never fully. There’s only so much he can reveal, but in the end, Jinx has seen more of him than Silco figures he’s seen of himself these days. He can only trust Jinx; thus, she can only trust him. 

Mantras of only having one another are their reminder. Their truth is unfounded. We only have each other. Out of it, a need was born, and through that need, an unbreakable, yet highly toxic bond formed. Silco nurtured that bond, made sure it grew strong, and through it, ensured Jinx would never leave him. If she moves on, so be it. I’ll be dead.  

For him, this is his last great love.
For her, it’s merely a first, but certainly the most damaging, thrilling, and meaningful. 

Go out with a bang.  

If he’s going to die—and he will—then he’ll make sure she’ll never forget him. When he does, he’ll comfort her, even if he’s the one passing over, and he will give her his last breaths. 

The visage he sees will be her, on her knees, and for that, he will have one last worship before his final passage. I always loved you. A father doesn’t have to say it so long as he shows it.

And how often he showed her. This was his first mistake, as many would tell him. Arguably, it will never show up on his gravestone. A father and lover, intertwined in one assigned role of provider. What good will it do if he’s gone? Prepared her little for that, and he will be dead, but she will be the one to suffer for it. 

Geez! Die and ruin my life, why don’t ya?

And he will. Jinx will let him, too, because despite not being able to say it to herself, she’ll know who put all those holes in him. 

I killed Silco.
If you get close to me, I’ll kill you, too.  

But he’s not dead yet. Not by a long shot! The man is standing at the bar, half-seated on a stool, and entertaining a young lady with blue hair. That’s totally not dead! That’s alive, well, and practically kicking. 

“About all that work you have to do?” she asks coyly. 

“Ah,” he quips. She’s always trying to trap him. It usually works. “In a manner of speaking? Yes.” 

He’ll receive a letter from Jayce Talis soon, but other things have to come into play first, and tonight? Vi is still in prison, dead to Silco’s knowledge, and Jinx is still smiling, grabbing him by the elbow, and telling him to come upstairs with her. 

“Big meeting coming up?” she presses. 

“I always have meetings,” he groans into his glass. Pouring himself a meager shot, he downs it quickly. “With everyone.” 

I know, and I hate that.  

“Mr. Popular, huh?” 

“Hardly,” he snorts. “It’s not about being well-liked, Jinx. It’s about power. Respect.” 

“Right, right! I know. Respect! Power! It comes to those who take it. Yeah, I get it.” 

She’s so quick to brush him off that he sometimes forgets that she feels this leniency because she has the title of daughter. Anyone else? He’d have their heads for such disrespect, but in her case? He merely quirks his lip, rolls his eyes, and allows her verbal jabs to continue. 

Besides, this leniency does not stem from a place of disrespect. The opposite! This is the only man she loves, thus the only man she has respect for. He’s taught her well, and for that, she worships him. This worship is mutual. There is no woman alive more beautiful than Jinx, and though she is young and malleable, he has been most patient and (usually) kind. 

“Glad to see it’s wearing on you.”

“Hey, I listen,” she barks, nudging his side. Laughing to herself, she wraps her arms around his shoulders. It’s going to happen tonight. She’s hanging off him, much like a young monkey would with their parent, and tries to get him off the stool entirely. Up and at ‘em! “You know, we always have a good time in your office.” 

“Do we?” he counters. She understands he’s being cheeky, borderline playful. Seems like her antics are working, loosening him up a bit. “With you above, me below?” 

Her cheeks are flushing.
It’s quite intimate when he puts it like that, no? 

Still, her overall lack of experience combined with her efforts to sway him doesn’t go unnoticed. Silco is always apt to take the reins when Jinx falters. While she might not show it, she is just a girl, and while that works to her advantage when playing coy with others, she finds it doesn’t always work on him. He knows her too well, but sometimes, that also comes to his detriment. Overall? Oh! It’s a rather fun game to play. 

One step forward, two steps back. Like a cursed tango, they dance until he dies.

“Something like that,” she replies. 

“Hm.” Silco stands all the same, apt to bend to Jinx’s will. He’s a portion drunk, ready to retire, and figures a bit of late-night paperwork will settle his stomach. Besides, she’ll likely snooze on the couch, or perhaps in the crawlspaces she’s made in the ceiling. “Let’s go. We’ll be open for a few more hours, but we don’t have to stay until closing. ” 

“Uh-huh,” she hums, grabbing him by the arm. “Ding, ding! You got that right, Old Man!” 

He leaves the pack of cigarettes behind. Why bother when he has plenty of cigars in his office?
And it was likely for the best. Those old habits again.  

“Glad to know I’ve still got it,” he sighs as they ascend. 

“You’ll always have it.” A beat. “And you’ll always have me.” 

Chapter 3: Beg a Lesson

Summary:

When Silco performs an act for the greater good, Jinx rallies behind him without question.

She’s been called a LOOSE CANNON before. There is humor and light tenderness in the titles she’s given, but consolation in the ones he assigns. Being his little monkey, his darling, his this or that, and all the other things that still her beating heart. Be still! Perhaps it’s a little cliché, but Silco is her man. There is no one else who makes her feel the way he does. 

In his office, which is their usual haunt these days, he finds comfort in paperwork. They differ here, but then again, he only assigns her the most FUN projects he can think of. And the most important! After all, that’s what he’s always told her. When she was too little to do much more than tinker, he promised it was because the skills she had were worth investing in, and this? It was time to invest. His dime and her time. In the end, it paid off for both of them. 

She’s not a BLUE BOMBER for nothing. 

And he might not be The Eye of Zaun to her, but to everyone else? He sees all. Yet, to Jinx, Silco only sees her. That’s how it ought to be—at least, in her world. It only spins because he gives it a hearty whirl, fingers trembling along the outer layer, waiting to see where it’ll stop this time. Then, like always, he’ll spin it again.

Spin, rinse, repeat. 

So, when he looks at other women, she keeps her gaze sharp.

All eyes on YOU, Old Man. My eyes.  

To see if his pupils dilate, his throat tightens, or if his fists clench; if his eyes drag down the neck to the breast, and all the other things men wag their tongues over in the presence of such a lovely woman. What could they have that she does not? What does she lack in comparison? 

Nothing, she realizes, because he’s been on good behavior for a while now. 

Wanna see how good I can be? 

“You know,” starts Jinx, and he looks up at her, “I thought you had people who worked for you. Like, people did the work you didn’t want to do.” 

“They can’t do this work,” Silco tells her. 

“And what work is that?” 

“Work you don’t have to worry about.” Only benefit from. “In the end, Jinx, I’m doing this for all of us. The people of Zaun—OUR PEOPLE—don’t they deserve better? More than what’s been given to them? We deserve to be known as more than just an UNDERCITY. Trenchers…! ” He scoffs in offense. “You know how they see us, Jinx. I know you do. Like the dirt beneath their boots, with their heels sharply dug into our necks. Like animals, they try to contain us—control us—even beat us into submission. Still, we survive. Even below the Topsiders, who want nothing more than to walk all over us, we survive. That’s why we scare them, Jinx. They’re afraid of us. If they don’t realize it now…they will. ”

Because of what he said.
How they’ll show them—show all of them—and she believed him. 

She still does.

And yet, he floods the streets with Shimmer and creates a harsher drug for a more despairing form of addict. For now, Jinx sees no problem with this, and perhaps she never will. Her moral compass doesn’t operate like that. 

When Silco performs an act for the greater good, Jinx rallies behind him without question. 

If she questions, it’s like a surrender.
She’s never been the type to give up so easily. 

HE would never give up on her. 

Would he? A nasty voice tells her YES! Oh! To be a believer! And he could be lying to her. Easy now. She assures herself that he would never. 

SHUT UP! She doesn’t want to talk to you.

“I’m going out,” he tells her. He’s done working here, so he plans to move elsewhere. Ashing the last of his cigar, Silco eyes the dried peels collecting in the corner, eyes slinking towards the rafters. “A meeting. You’d find it boring,” he reasons. 

“Would I?” she yawns. 

He knows better—this dismissiveness is only a temper swelling beneath the surface. 

“Sevika will accompany me.” 

“I’m not surprised,” she scoffs. “That ogre only breathes because you tell her to.” 

“Harsh.” 

“True.” 

“Hm.” 

Her brilliant indignation is met with his silence—or is it the other way around? Hard to tell these days. Jinx is growing up. 

“Would you like to join me instead?” 

“Oh, you’re asking me?” she spits sarcastically. She won’t come down just yet. “Thought it’d be too boring for me.” 

“I’m asking you,” he affirms. “Hm. Are you coming or not?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighs. Dropping down, she lands on his desk first with precision, then slides off the top with ease. Heavy boots thud, hip jutting to the left as she places a balled fist against her lithe figure. “I’m coming.” 

“Good.” 

He tilts his head, brow quirking. He’s painted the other one well. She watched him the whole time. Observing, she watches him fetch his coat, deciding on gloves today. Such a deep red—always attentive to the finer details. Head to toe, he is undeniably as fashionable as he is commanding. Flashy!

“What’s this meeting for, anyhow?” she questions. 

“I like to keep tabs on things. Wouldn’t you?” 

“They should know not to mess with you,” the bluenette snorts. 

“They know.” A delay as Silco hesitates against the knob of his office door. “Still, they’ll try. I’ve told you before. Remember? […] We only have each other, Jinx.” As they leave, feet treading down worn steps, he tells her, “Everyone betrays us. Eventually, even these Chem Barons will come for my throat. This meeting will ensure otherwise.” For now.

“Oh.” 

A smirk. Silco’s hands slip into the pockets of his jacket. A deep inhale of Zaun’s greyest air, its thickness is familiar. There is no place more deserving of sovereignty and independence. When he dies, Zaun will be free. That is the nature of this exchange. That’s how it’s supposed to be.

But doesn’t he know better? Hasn’t he come to understand yet?

The best laid plans of mice and men…often GET JINXED!

“Quite.” 

“You need me to put ‘em in their place?” asks Jinx casually, showing off her pistol. “I bet I could send a message.” 

“I’m sure you could,” Silco agrees. He leads; she follows. “But this time, I need to be the one who sends a message.” She quirks a brow, encouraging him to continue. Clarify what he means to her, so that she’ll understand. “This time? The only thing you need to do…is watch and learn. Remember what I’m going to teach you.” 

“I always remember,” she complains. “You’re the one who forgets all the time, Silly.” 

The one who lies.

“Then rest assured, child,” he affirms, “that this time will be different.” He always says that. She often wonders if he’s ever meant it. “I’ve relied on you to make a point for me.” Before she can protest, he shushes her. Solitary steps echo as they ascend. Up, up, and up! “You make them well.” A bold pause. “But now? It’s my turn.”

“That so?” Nudging his side, Jinx loops the crux of their arms together. Hold me! “Well, by all means…” A cat-like grin. “Show me how it’s done, Old Man.”

Notes:

I know people like "long form" fics, but I find smaller chapters more fulfilling. Hopefully you enjoyed!

Notes:

No rating yet. I assume it'll eventually turn NSFW.
Just another small Jilco collection for when I have one-shot ideas.