"Nnn…"
What is that? A bug? It'll go away soon...
"Zzz…"
It's not going away.
Xander brushed his forehead and turned over.
The tickling sensation returned at the base of his neck. He slapped at it, finally opening his eyes only to find Jinx staring at him, cross-legged, and looking very amused.
Xander's gaze wandered.
She'd led him last night through twisting tunnels before dropping into her hideout. Flashy lights had consumed his vision as dolls swung wildly around him, each one with a different face with some unmistakably sown after her deceased childhood friends.
"Don't touch them," she'd warned, half serious, half playful, before ducking ahead into the shaft.
The ventilation hideout. An abyss of darkness below with a smaller set of blades underneath and a larger set above, skewing what little light filtered through the smog-filled skies.
After descending the metal stairs she'd tossed him a bundle of dusty blankets, wordlessly walking back to her workshop and the makeshift shrine on the far side. Past her cluttered tools and gadgets, two human-sized dolls of Mylo and Claggor rested like silent companions.
Their bodies are tattered, and large Xs marked their eyes.
"They don't like strangers in our hideout," Jinx whispered ominously, peering over her shoulder as he stepped off the stairs onto the fan blade. "I suggest you just go to sleep."
He said nothing and just nodded, laying one of the blankets down to cushion the metal floor.
I've been awake two days without sleep, Xander thought as he finally let exhaustion take him.
Before he knew it, he was awake again and staring at a bored Jinx. The top of the ventilation shaft glowed faintly, the first rays of sunlight cutting through the haze.
I slept in. Not quite ten or eleven… probably eight or nine.
CLA-clakakakakaa!
Xander's eyes shot back to her and she was smiling mischeivously. A grenade's mechanical mouth was clanking up and down angrily, red eyes flickering. She held the pin in one hand, the grenade in the other, and a dangerous twinkle sparkled in her eyes.
"You never get tired of this, do you?" Xander asked with a faint smile.
To her confusion, he calmly reached out and took the grenade from her hand, tossing it over the ledge down the shaft.
KABOOM!
"No," Jinx said with a frown, resting her chin in her palm and spinning the pin around her finger. "But this might be the first time someone's ever grabbed my grenade from me."
"Oooh, the first," Xander replied dryly, sitting up with a groan. His back ached from sleeping on metal even with the blanket.
"Ugh." Jinx rolled her eyes and stood. "Don't start."
"Well, y'know, it's a special occasion when you become someone's first. Was it emotional for you?"
"Only in the sense that I missed the chance to blow up my stalker," she shot back, slinging her belt on and shoving tools and gadgets into place.
"Stalker?"
"What else would you be? You know way too much about me. My life, my family- What does that make you if not a stalker? Besides, you're a freak with a terrible name."
Her eyes went wide and she cupped her hands like she was holding an invisible ball.
"Xander. What kind of dumbasses name their kid that?"
"Well, my family had a thing for—" Xander stopped mid-sentence, realizing the cultural reference didn't exist here. He cleared his throat. "They liked to play around with names. Besides, you can't say much with either of yours."
"My mom gave me that name," Jinx snapped, stepping back around and poking him hard in the chest.
"What a coincidence, my family gave me mine too," he replied evenly as he finished folding the blankets. "But I don't think they'd like me using 'freak show' or 'demon.' Kind of like how you're using Jinx."
"You don't know a fucking thing."
"You're not a jinx," Xander said quietly, meeting her glare. "You'll find that out soon enough."
Her brows furrowed. Anger twisted across her face. The kind that came from hurt, not rage.
He pushed the folded blankets into her chest.
They locked eyes for a long moment.
"Exit's the entrance?" he finally asked.
"Yes."
------------------
"Why haven't we left yet?" Caitlyn threw up her arms in frustration, no longer bothering to whisper in front of Jericho's stall.
The crowds around them were noisy. People kept bumping into them and Caitlyn was on edge.
She gestured sharply at the napkin on the counter slid over by Jericho, a large fish-looking humanoid with jagged teeth and always smiling.
"That was a secret message. I know it was so don't bother hiding it. So why are we still here?"
"Because," Vi replied coolly, "we're waiting for someone."
Vi leaned back against the stall, forearms braced behind her, eyes scanning the bustling crowd. Her stance looked relaxed, but her fists tightened every time Caitlyn's voice edged higher.
"For whom?" Caitlyn snapped. "You've been in prison for years. You said you didn't have parents and no one would visit—"
She froze mid-sentence. Her gaze drifted, the realization dawning before snapping sharply back to Vi.
"You lied," she whispered, accusation heavy in her tone.
"Wow, what a shocker." Vi smirked, one brow arching. "Sump rat lies to a Pilty. An Enforcer no less. Funny thing is, it wasn't even a lie. But is it really that surprising?"
"You—!" Caitlyn pointed, then stopped herself, her finger curling into a fist. Her jaw tightened as she exhaled slowly through her nose. "I helped you get out of prison under the pretense you'd help me find Silco."
"Yeah, I know," Vi said, her smirk fading into a scowl. "What do you think I'm doing? Not even a few hours out of Stillwater and you're already nagging me."
"I am not nagging you! This is a business arrangement!"
"Keep telling yourself that," Vi shot back, pushing off the counter. "I'm sure you've got plenty of friends who'd agree with you."
A harsh, garbled noise cut through the air from Jericho's stall. His massive, toothy smile vanished, replaced by a sharp and uneasy glare.
Vi's voice cracked between disbelief and joy.
"Powder...!"