A/N: Silco and Enyd have a heart-to-heart. An storm causes problems at the mine . . . or does it?

When Katya woke the next morning, her brain pounded and squeezed inside her skull. Every part of her body, including her eyelids, were heavy with sludgy, emotional remnants of the previous night. She pressed her face into her pillow and pulled her knees into her chest as tightly as she could, wanting to fall back asleep. However, the chill nipping at her ankles and toes begged for the warmth of movement.

Stiffly, she sat up and grabbed for her pocket watch. She blinked at the time. It was later than she expected; well past her normal wake-up time. Hissing in discomfort, she hobbled to her dresser and pulled on a pair of slacks that were too big. Slipping her arms through the sleeves of her coat, Katya left her bedroom.

Her brows quirked in confusion seeing Viktor's bedroom door already open. Confusion gave way to something gooey and warm as she entered the kitchen. Her brother had pushed a chair up to the counter and was kneeling on it as he stirred two bowls of oatmeal. Two mugs of steamy, steeping tea sat nearby. He looked over when he heard her step onto the cracked linoleum of the kitchen floor.

"I was about to come get you," he said. "I didn't know what time you came home last night, so I thought you should sleep in. Are you ok? Your eyes are red and puffy – "

Viktor was cut off as his body was enveloped in a tight embrace. Katya pressed a hand to his back and head, holding him as closely as she could. Her nose buried itself in his bedhead, and she breathed him in. He smelled mineral bright from the Springs the day before, and of mellow soap. Under all of that there was an herbaceous base note she could only describe as boy. She breathed in deeply, memorizing it.

Viktor slid his arms around his sister, nearly hiding within her coat, and rested his head against the steady thump of her heart. They stayed like that for a few moments, before drawing apart and taking their breakfasts to the kitchen table.

They spent the day huddled up together under Viktor's blanket and nestled near the radiator, listening to the sleet outside the window. He worked on his assignments and studied. Katya watched and helped where she could. In the afternoon, Viktor leaned against her and fell asleep. In the peaceful silence, feeling and listening to his soft, steady breathing, she drew him in close and sturdied her resolve in a whispered hope.

"I am doing this for us."

The sharp pelting of watery ice at the window slowly pulled Silco from slumber. His body ached. Groaning, he slowly sat up and rolled his shoulders. A strained hiss was pulled from between his teeth as the wound on his right shoulder protested the movement. His left fingers slipped under the collar of his shirt and gently probed at the injury, finding it warm, firm, itchy and scabbing.

Silco lifted himself out of bed, gathered an armful of clean clothes, and limped to the bathroom. The warm water from the shower helped to sooth and loosen his sore muscles. The patter of droplets against his skin relieved some of the itching at his shoulder.

As he toweled off and dressed, he noticed that the vial of medicine on the sink had moved to the other side of the faucet. There seemed to be less liquid in it, too. He simultaneously felt grateful and nervous. He made sure the burn and bruises on his shoulder were sufficiently hidden and left the bathroom.

He found his mother sitting at their kitchen table. Her elbows rested on the surface, flanking a cup of tea. Her hands and fingers laced together, creating a ledge for her nose and lips to rest against. Her eyes, which were red-rimmed and puffy, stared straight ahead. Silco felt a stab of hurt when she didn't look at him. Gritting his teeth, he walked as evenly as he could to the table and went to sit down.

Enyd closed her eyes as her son took his seat and dropped her head, so that her hairline was resting on the edge of her hands. Her lower jaw shifted back and forth as she willed a string of thoughts to stitch together. Her stomach curdled and her bones shook.

The silence between them stretched. The only sounds in the apartment were the steady ticking of the wall clock and the sharp patter of the sleet on tin and glass. Silco tried not to fidget in his chair. Finally, his mother spoke.

"I just . . . don't know what to say, Silco."

Enyd shook her head. One hand dropped to the table while the other propped up her forehead. Finally – finally – she opened her eyes and looked at him. Silco fought not to gnaw on his bottom lip as she searched his face. Her breath shuddered and hitched; her expression having shifted to something aggrieved rather than disappointed.

"How could you put yourself and your friends in danger like this?"

Silco swallowed and scooted his chair closer.

"Mum," he began. There was a slight tremor to his voice that he attempted to shake out by clearing his throat. "We have a real chance to change things. If we can rally the whole of the Underground we can break away from Piltover. We can be free."

Enyd watched her son's face carefully as he spoke. The fervor in his voice, earnestness in his eyes, and the intense energy radiating off of him scared her. It would get him killed. She reached forward and grabbed his hands. To ground him. To ground her?

"Please, Silco," Enyd begged. "Don't do this. Just . . . stop. Let that investigation just die out, and let things go back to normal."

Silco's nostrils flared and his grip on her hands tightened.

"Mum," he pleaded back in exasperation. He watched her eyebrows cinch together, and he did his best to temper his tone. Being angry with her would not get her to understand. "Mum. We don't have to live like this. We shouldn't have to live like this – "

"Silco, you don't understand. You're too young! The Undercity is in much better shape than it was when I was your age."

"It's not good enough," Silco countered, "even if that's true. We are still second-class citizens for no other reason than we live on this side of the river. We still are not given the means to survive, much less thrive. Piltover squeezes our resources with our labor for their own gain and leaves us to rot."

Enyd shook her head and her fingers palpated against his hands as if she were trying to wake him from a dream.

"Please, Silco," she hissed, voiced strained and eyes pleading. "If – if things had been different, I wouldn't have had you."

Silco blinked and gawked at her reasoning. He scooted closer to her.

"Wouldn't you have preferred that I had come to you a different way?"

He felt his mouth go dry and his gut clench.

"I shouldn't have been forced on you, Mum. H-he," Silco's tongue tripped on the word and his throat retched as if his body was trying to keep him from mentioning Rynweaver, "did that to you because he viewed you less than human. Not worthy of respect, autonomy, or choice. Just a dirty little thing to be used."

Enyd's chin trembled and tears threatened to spill over her lashes.

"That's how they see all of us, Mum. And you deserve better. Deserved better."

A small sob burst out through Enyd's teeth and she pulled her hands away to frantically wipe her eyes.

"Please, Silco," she wept, "stop this . . . Zaun idea. Please. I will keep taking the medicine if you want. I want to pay the girl, though. Please, please, please. I'll do anything if it keeps you from doing this. Keeps you safe. Please. I can't lose you. It would kill me."

Silco refrained from saying that Piltover had already killed her. He lifted out of his chair and drew his mother into his chest. She sobbed and coughed and clung to his shirt. He winced when she shifted against a particularly sore spot from the previous night's scuffle, but did not let go of her. They stayed like that for a while, Enyd's sniffles joining the quiet, monotonous symphony of the clock on the wall and the sleet on the windows.

When she softened against him, Silco spoke again.

"I can't let our people live like this, Mum. Vander deserves to turn a profit every month, not give seventy-percent of his revenue back to Topside in tariffs and taxes; same with Benzo; same with any other Undercity business owner and entrepreneur. Sevika and her sisters shouldn't have to slave for cogs at the detriment of their bodies." He held her closer as he said, "You and Katya's brother should be able to fucking breathe."

After a few more shuddering breaths and small wheezy throat clearings, Enyd began to pull away from her son. She settled back in her chair and wiped her eyes.

"Katya is the medic at the mines," she murmured. "The one who gave you the medicine."

Silco nodded, being very mindful not to divulge the medic's side hustle.

"Her brother is sick?"

"Born that way, but yes," he answered. "He attends the preparatory school at Piltover's Academy on their lottery, but he still comes home to her on the weekends. They live deep in the Sump. From what she has told me, it's challenging on his immune system. But they can't afford to live elsewhere."

Enyd's brows furrowed and her lips dipped in a small frown.

"He should have every right to health and a bright future just as much as any Topside brat."

She knew he wasn't wrong. But she was not willing to pay for a chance at freedom with her son's life. Or Vander's or Benzo's.

As if reading her thoughts, Silco whispered, "I have to fight for this, mum. For me. For Vander. For . . . Katya. Her brother. For you. For the whole of the Undercity – for Zaun."

Enyd's eyes welled again and she bit her lip, breath huffing out in a spitty, unbidden sob. She wiped her eyes and held her head in her trembling hands.

A heavy weight sank into Silco's chest as he said, "I promise I won't bring trouble here. To you. I'll," he paused and cleared his throat, "I'll even move out. If that's easier for you. I'll still pay my piece of the rent – "

"No, Silco. No. I don't want that," his mother said hurriedly. She had already said what she wanted: for him and the boys to stop this. But . . . that possibility seemed to keep slipping further and further away. "I don't want you to leave. Please."

The heaviness over his heart lifted a touch at her words. Neither were getting what they wanted, nor was a compromise reached. The rest of the day was spent quietly. Enyd darned and mended articles of clothing for clients, occasionally sniffling and wiping her eyes. Silco went about taping and wrapping the apartment's windows to help keep the warmth in. In the afternoon, he left briefly to go to The Drop and check in with Vander. And to give Benzo a piece of his mind.

The sleet, rain, and wind continued and worsened through the late afternoon and evening. Coating the cliffs, buildings and roads of the Undercity in a slippery layer of ice. Rain water slid into the cracks of rocks and buildings, freezing and expanding. Iron, glass, and earth groaned against the forceful stretches. The Undercity did its best to accommodate the weather.

And if it hadn't been for the sudden shift in temperature overnight, it may have.

Freezing sleet gave way to sheets of rain as a swell of warm air lifted the chill out of the Undercity, and away from Piltover.

Katya held her coat over her and Viktor's heads as they scurried as quickly as they could to the conveyor car. Despite the make-shift umbrella, the siblings were soaked by the time they took their seats. Luckily, she had told her brother to not dress in his Academy uniform that morning, for fear of it getting sodden; he could quickly change in his dorm before classes.

Physically navigating a world that was already not set up for Viktor's handicap was made doubly difficult by wet weather. The unevenness of the Promenade cobbled streets and the slickness of Piltover's marble tiles made the journey slow and treacherous, as Viktor's unsure feet and cane struggled to find purchase. If it weren't for the rucksack on her back, Katya would've scooped him up and carried him the rest of the way.

As always, Ivy waited for them at the fountain, a large navy-blue umbrella canopied over her fluffy blond hair. The rain necessitated a quick hand-off. Katya unshouldered and handed Viktor's bag to the aid who did not flinch at its dampness. Viktor quickly hugged his sister good-bye, before taking refuge under the umbrella and Ivy's hand as she helped to steady their trip toward the boys' dormitory.

Katya hated brief good-byes, but she didn't want him in this weather in sopping clothes any longer. She adjusted her coat – so that the neck draped over the top of her head, the sides dropping like a veil over her shoulders and back – and took one more moment to watch her brother limp toward campus before spinning on her heel and hurrying back to the Undercity.

The rain morphed into a persistent mist rather than dropping sheets as Katya approached the mines. And the lessening weather allowed her to see the flashing emergency lights and hear the loud, bone rattling blares of the mine's siren. Throat gripping and stomach tumbling, she sprinted and leapt over the final few buildings between her and her destination.

"Marzi, what's going on?" Katya asked in an out of breath wheeze, skidding to a stop at the attendant hut.

"Tunnel collapsed and triggered a landslide on the West side of the mines. It's bad," the Yordle explained. Although, her monotone voice did not evoke the severity of the news. "The Pilties are sending their emergency services. Rynweaver's orderin' that all able bodies go and help. All other mine functions have been temporarily suspended."

"The West end? Which tunnel?"

"Dunno," Marzi droned. "From what've heard the whole pocket's filled up."

Not wanting to waste anymore time, Katya sprinted to the elevator, and seeing that it was down, she ran for the above ground platforms, stairwells, and gangways that stitched the mine together at the surface. Her mind spun and heart squeezed with dread; the West end was where Sevika's unit had been working. While not a particularly faith-based person (her life had shown her that it was incredibly unlikely that some omnipotent God or Goddess was looking out for her), Katya found her mind reciting prayers to Janna that she remembered her mother teaching her.

Jan'ahrem

Blessed be the Blue Bird

Send protection for me and mine

On Your winds of almighty Love

In Your Name, by Your Hand, by Your Wisdom

Are we kept safe and held

We are eternally grateful

Forever devoted . . .

The scent of petrichor quickly transformed to that of burning dust as the chasm that used to be the West end came into sight. The air was fogged with smoke and rock particles instead of rain and mist. What was left of the landslide was a mountain of sludge, rocks, and boulders piled up against a broken cliff face, blocking and burying whatever may be left of the tunnels and fissures behind it.

Foremen shouted orders. The grinding and sliding of cranes and tractors groaned and screeched as their motors were pushed to work harder than usual. The harsh crack of pick axes and shovels against stone rang through the new canyon. Their wielders grunted and called out to one another. The occasional sharp cry of grief or pain sang above it all.

It was mayhem.

Katya paused, assessing the scene beneath her before journeying down. As she pressed passed other miners, her eyes were ever on the lookout for her friend. Her ears simultaneously listened for and ignored any information that may give her an idea of what units had been trapped beneath the rubble.

As she slid past a line of haggard-faced miners, one said something that finally set her heart back in a tolerable rhythm.

"Silco said to bring in the front loader. There's one that should be ready at the machinery shop, fixed engine and all!"

Katya jerkily adjusted her path to run in the direction those miners had come from. And to her utter relief, as she rounded a sharp jut of rock, Sevika came into view.

"'Vika!"

The girl looked around for her beckoner, a large slippery rock gripped between her strong hands. Her eyes finally picked out Katya stumbling towards her and she dropped the stone. The two collided together in an elated, but too-brief, embrace.

"You are okay?" Katya gasped as they broke apart. Her hands and eyes scoured over Sevika's drenched and dirty form.

"Yeah, yeah," came the breathless answer. "Our shift hadn't started yet. The tunnel gave before we got here."

We.

Behind her, Katya spied Silco. He was shouting and giving fast, direct orders to the miners around him. As the small crowd dispersed to carry out their instructions, his gaze turned to Sevika and then landed on Katya. His eyebrows curled up and his lips parted slightly as he strode over.

"You're alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just got here," she answered, quickly looking him over. Like Sevika, he seemed unharmed. Just wet and dirty. "You're okay, too?"

Silco nodded his head, water droplets shaking off the tips of his drenched hair.

"Fine. Sev, go help the others switch tracks so we can start getting this rubble out of here."

Sevika nodded and gave Katya one more quick hug before departing.

"I'll find you later," she said. "Be safe."

As Sevika jogged in the direction of the cart tracks, Silco dipped his head towards Katya and quietly said, "I – I wanted to check in on you yesterday. Are you really alright?"

Katya felt her mouth go a little dry and answered, "Yes. I'm fine. Thank you. You? What about your mother?"

She caught the smallest flinch in his left lower eyelid before he answered, "At a standstill currently."

Nodding, her eyes drifted to his shirt collar – heavy and saturated with rain. It drooped a bit and she was able to see the edge of a bad bruise and how it morphed into a crusty burn. Her eyebrows crumpled together and she reached out.

"What happened – "

"It's nothing," Silco replied quickly, trying to dip away from her hand. For once, though, he wasn't quick enough and Katya gently peeled the garment back, inspecting the new wound.

"It's fine," he back-peddled. "It's not that bad."

"It could do with some ointment," Katya corrected. "But it should heal fine. How did it happen? It looks fresh."

Silco opted not to lie. "Ran into some Enforcers last night after I dropped you off at your apartment."

He watched her eyes go wide and mouth tighten. Reaching up, he took a firm grip on her shoulders and shook them slightly.

"I'm fine. It's fine. Vander was with me. They'll be no trouble for us. Okay?"

After a beat, Katya bobbled her head in understanding, although she did not seem convinced.

"Do you know if Will set up a triage yet?" she asked, clearing her throat.

Silco released her shoulders and nodded his head in the direction behind Katya.

"Over there."

"Come on, then," she said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along behind her.

"What? I don't – "

"Ointment for that burn."

Silco did not fight her as he was dragged to the triage space that had been hastily set up. Katya quickly checked in with Will, his eyes confused and suspicious behind his lenses as he looked Silco up and down. He told her only a few bodies had thus far been pulled from the rubble, all alive. He nodded his sloped nose in the direction of a series of beds, partially blocked from view by privacy panels. He repeated what Marzi had told her at the gate: that Piltover should be sending aiding emergency services, so that as more (hopefully) live bodies were unearthed, he and Katya would have help supporting them.

Katya nodded and her mind reveled and whirred in the face of this disaster. It gave her something to do and focus on. She thanked Will and pulled Silco to a bed near the back of the space. With a tug, she curled the privacy curtain around them. Instructing Silco to take his arm out of his sleeve, she fished a small tube of medicine out from the rickety sheet metal cabinet next to the bed.

Before uncapping the tube, she looked over the whole wound and gently prodded at it with her fingers.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little, I guess."

"Electric baton?"

Silco nodded, and Katya squeezed a dollop of clear gel onto her fingertips before swiping it over his scabbed flesh. He couldn't stop the shiver that vibrated over his skin at her touch.

"Sorry. It's cold," she muttered, rubbing it in.

He decided not to tell her that he didn't think it was the chill.

"It should heal fine," Katya repeated. "The medicine will keep it from getting infected. It'll also help with scarring if you use it regularly."

She screwed the cap back on the tube and handed it to him. He took the medicine and slipped it in his trouser pocket. Then a thought occurred to him and a small breath of laughter burst through his lips.

"What is so funny?"

Silco looked up at her, mischief in his eyes.

"Guess you can make another medical supply order now, can't you?"

In the evening, Enyd made her way onto the damp streets of the Undercity, the bag of trinkets she tried to pawn at Benzo's a couple days earlier slung over her shoulder. Although, she wasn't planning on heading to the shop any longer.

The rain had finally stopped, and the air was an uncomfortable combination of chilled and muggy. Despite the less-than-ideal weather, the streets were raucous and full as ever. Enyd was pleased that any conversation that she managed to overhear had to do with the accident at Rynweaver's mine, and not the failed heist from the previous Friday. The further that got pushed from people's minds and mouths the better.

Silco had rushed home in the early afternoon to let her know that he was alright. He stood in their doorway dripping with water and sweat, smattered with grease and dirt; and Enyd couldn't have been more relieved. He said he was going back to help at the accident site, since he was still being compensated for his time there and wouldn't be back until late. She had taken his grimy face between her hands and kissed his cheek. She made him promise to be careful and let him go. He hadn't since returned and she didn't expect him to until after she had gone to bed.

Which was, for once, fine by her. She didn't want him trying to sway her from finding the girl. The medic. This Katya. Not that she was altogether certain that he would try to deter her, but she did not want to run that risk. She had meant what she had said to Silco the day before: that she would keep taking the medicine, but she wanted to pay for it. Somehow.

Enyd imagined that her home would be easy enough to locate. Since the girl's younger brother was such an anomaly in the Lanes – both a cripple and a student at Piltover's prestigious prep school – she was certain it wouldn't take her long to pick and piece together information about them from other Trenchers.

She casually spoke with a few vendors in the market she sold bread to. All of them knew of the pair. One said they had sold the girl a sack of oats no later than the week before, but no one had any useful information when it came to finding them.

Enyd continued to weave through the blooming Undercity nightlife, speaking with people she knew and keeping an eye out on the crowd in case she spied the young woman amongst the bustle. Her first and only break was when she stopped by Jericho's food stall. The behemoth of a Vastaya knew exactly who she was looking for and even regaled her with a brief, one-sided history of the young woman.

When Katya was little, she and her parents would visit his stall. The patriarch would order mixed-meat kebabs, the mother cold fish salad on hard tac, and the child would slurp at a bowl of greasy noodles. Then there was a brief moment in time where Jericho had noticed the mother's swollen belly, and would dose her hard tac in fryer fat before ladening it with finely minced fish. It was to help make sure she was getting enough calories for her and the baby, he slurred proudly.

It was years before Jericho saw any of them again, and when they did finally resurface the number remained three. The restaurant owner did not comment on the missing mother, nor the small toddler set on the father's hip. He served them just the same. More years went by, and the little family's visits to his counter lessened – especially after the boy placed in Piltover's school.

Eventually, when the girl had transitioned into a young woman, Jericho recounted an evening where only she had shown up. She looked tired and strung out, her eyes glassy with overwhelm. And despite never exchanging more than the necessary pleasantries with her, when he placed the menu down, she began to tremble and all her problems spilled forth. She never once looked at him when she said her and brother's father had died, how her brother needed to stay at the prep school, how she was selling (and therefore, losing) as many of their homewares as she could, and how she and her brother needed to move to a smaller, cheaper apartment deeper in the Sump. Jericho doubted she meant to tell him, but in her avalanche of word vomit she gave the building address; indeed, they were moving to the grittiest part of the Undercity.

Despite the fact that his story of her was one of an outsider's perspective, Enyd's heart ached for Katya. She could only imagine how much more painful the unknown details of her life story could be. She thanked the Vastaya and headed in the direction of the address he had inadvertently given.

As she walked, Enyd ran over the few details she knew about Katya in her head: terrified of Enforcers (to a degree that she had not seen before), her parents were gone and as a result was caring for her sickly younger brother. In that care, she had to move them to the poorest, filthiest part of the Sump. She apparently had no one to lean on; that she had used a mere social acquaintance as an outlet for her grief, coupled with the fact that Silco had never mentioned her until the day before, led Enyd to believe that she had been on her own for a long time.

Too long.

Her molars grit together as she thought and walked. It had been her and her son for a long time, until he got older and began making friends. Then Vander came into their fold. Vander brought Benzo along, and Benzo's family. Sevika was the most recent edition. Enyd was grateful for the small community they had cobbled together. Life was easier to move through when one didn't feel alone. She imagined that Katya must feel alone, and she felt a deep empathetic ache reverberate within in her at the thought.

As Enyd descended poorly maintained stairs and bridges into the district Jericho had told her about, she tucked her long sweater tighter around her and gripped protectively at her satchel. All the buildings around her were in such a state of disrepair it became difficult to determine which were still inhabited and which had been condemned. Nonetheless, she continued following the numbers on the buildings in the direction she hoped would lead to her to Katya.

Her stomach swooped and heart thudded when she passed alleyways where the shapes of tents and people propped up against the bricks were silhouetted against the dim, chartreuse lights of the cracked and flickering street lamps. She startled when big, young, hungry eyes peered at her through broken windows.

We are still second-class citizens for no other reason than we live on this side of the river. We still are not given the means to survive, much less thrive. Piltover squeezes our resources with our labor for their own gain and leaves us to rot.

Silco's words resounded through her head like a heavy bell, deep and bone-gripping with truth. Enyd pressed on, the soles of her shoes an uneasy clack on the broken stones beneath them. According to the numbers of the buildings, she should be nearing her destination. And she couldn't believe her luck when the broken-down building came into view, Katya was trudging towards it as well.

She looked peeved and tired, her shoulders hunkered forward and her gaze down at her shoes. Her sluggish feet guided her body toward her front door as her eyes remained downcast and heavy. Enyd picked up her pace and called out.

Katya's head shot up in surprise, her thick eyebrows lifting behind her bangs. Her whole body tensed and she looked around wildly before her wide eyes landed on Enyd. Her expression softened, although her body stayed rigid in shock and uncertainty as the older woman closed the gap between them.

A moment of silence passed between them, as Enyd decided what to say.

"I know it was you who gave Silco the medicine," she finally said. She watched as a series of hard, scared, and defensive emotions flash across Katya's face.

"I wanted to thank you," Enyd added. She jostled her bag to her front and opened the flap, displaying the shiny trinkets inside.

Katya's brow crumpled in confusion. "I told Silco that you did not have to pay me."

"I know that," Enyd replied, slipping the strap over her head. "But I want to."

She handed the bag over to Katya's stiff arms.

"If you take these to Benzo's shop," she said, "you can pawn them for coin. Or any other items in the store that you may need. Or you don't have to do any of that." A kind smile stretched her thin face, "I just . . . want to thank you."

After a moment, Katya's hands held the bag with more care and she drew it towards her chest, muttering the tiniest thank you Enyd had ever heard. She had to wrestle down the motherly urge to cup the young woman's cheek and tuck her greasy hair behind her ear.

Instead, she asked, "Are you okay from the other night?"

Surprised again, Katya lifted her gaze to the mother's face. She nodded weakly. Enyd found she couldn't stop herself any longer; she reached out and brushed her chestnut hair behind her ear and softly said, "If you need anything, you let me know. Alright? You're not alone down here."

Her heart cracked when she saw Katya's eyes grow shiny and wet. She bit the inside of her lip and nodded, thanking Enyd again and wishing her a good night before heading inside her apartment.

Enyd's journey back up towards her own home was slow. Not because of her own physical condition, but because she found herself looking at her home in a way she hadn't before. She wasn't sure why; whether she never thought or knew to view the filth, poorness, and squalor as a problem, or if she had been too afraid to see it as such. Afraid of what seeing it as unfairness - as cruelty - would do to her ability to function within it.

Regardless, she couldn't help but notice how the fronts of stores she new to do 'good' business were not as well-kept as perhaps they should've been. She noticed how often she had to redirect her path to avoid tripping over potholes in the street. Her eyes drifted to the clusters of sunken people dressed in rags that stood around aflame metal bins on the outskirts of squares and markets and in alleyways. Her heart fluttered at clusters of children too young to be out by themselves, looking necessarily mischievous, too wise and too thin.

She thought of her clients on the Promenade level. People who were better off than those in the Sump or Entresol, but who still had to pay her in a hodge podge of coins and knick-knacks from around their homes. How she frequently mended the same garments over and over again because their owners could not afford replacements.

These thoughts and observations continued to plague Enyd as she let herself back into her and Silco's home. Just as she anticipated, he was not home yet. She shuffled into the bathroom and set about preparing for sleep.

As she washed her face and brushed her teeth, her eyes fell to the vial of medicine that had made its home next to the hot water handle. The toothbrush stilled in her mouth.

You and Katya's brother should be able to fucking breathe.

Enyd spat, rinsed, and left the bathroom.

As she laid in bed, her mind wouldn't settle, Silco's words echoing in her head. The sight of an underfed city fresh in her mind. The memory of her rape behind her eyelids.

She was still awake when Silco returned home. She listened to him shuffle about the apartment for a bit, readying himself for bed: a small dinner, shower, teeth brush, bedroom. A small, rueful smile turned the corners of Enyd's mouth as she listened. She knew all the steps, the movements, the tempo to his nighttime routine as if it were the passage in a book she had memorized. The only thing that had changed was that his footfalls were heavier and the small voice utterances he made had deepened.

Quiet and darkness swallowed up the apartment. And Enyd couldn't sleep still. Gingerly, she lifted herself out of bed and padded out of her room and over to Silco's. With a firm grip on the doorknob, she turned it silently and slipped inside.

He slept on his stomach, arms bunched under his pillow, pressing it into his face. Enyd skirted around the bed and knelt at its side. His eyelids didn't even flicker at her presence, his soft sleepy breathing never skipping a beat. She brushed her fingers through his clean hair – it had gotten so long. He'd need to tie it back soon – so gently that he still didn't rouse.

Her perfect boy.

Man. Enyd corrected herself internally. Her babe all grown. And trying to do what he thought was best. Wanting to make sure that the city he grew up in was better, that its people had every chance for a full life and success as any other. Her throat tightened. She had wanted a better life for her boy than what she had. She was certain she had given him that.

Enyd brushed her fingers through his hair again as a tear slipped down her cheek and her lower lip wobbled. Their roles reversed yet again: her boy showing her that she deserved a better life; showing her that they all did. And willing to lead the way.

She was so scared for him.

She was so proud of him.

She couldn't let him down.

Not when he had learned this deep love from her.

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying this story so far, please consider leaving a comment :)

For more content, follow me on tumblr! .com