Fight and Flight (Lux/Jinx)

Chapter 9: Love, Jinx

Searchlight,

You're okay, right?

I fought off the Pilties as long as I could. I stayed until I ran out of ammo. That had to be enough time for the ground team to find you, right?

The other pilots believed me when I said that the ground team were looking for you, but I don't know if I believe myself. What if it was a voice in my head telling me what I wanted to hear? What are the chances that I really could have heard my own sister telling me you'd be okay? The bombers were out of radio range when Vi said she was getting you, so I'm the only one who heard it. Or heard nothing. I don't know.

Maybe Vi did find you. Maybe you're both dead.

I hate not knowing. I hate wondering what happened after you fell.

Please come back soon so that I won't have to wonder anymore.

Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back.

The Ogre said that the team returning from Piltover would go through the big headquarters for the ground troops. She said to try sending a letter there. I know this letter's not really getting anywhere, but I need to try.

I'll keep trying. I'll keep waiting for you to come back.

Love,

Jinx

Searchlight,

What's taking you so long? Get back here. Hurry up.

We got the news that Hexplanes are in production here in Zaun. That means the ground team must've brought our spy back safely.

Did they bring you back safely too? Why aren't you back yet?

Your friends keep coming into our tent and playing cards in here. Did you tell them to do that before the mission? I feel like that's something you would do.

They eat here too. They sit on the edge of your cot and they get crumbs all over it.

Come back and tell them to stop making a mess on your cot.

Please come back.

Love,

Jinx

The nurse's hands were filled with a stack of very ordinary things: A few blank envelopes, some sheets of letter-paper, and two black pens. There was nothing special about each item in itself – they were common, inexpensive supplies that might be found in any building – but for all the eagerness Lux felt when she saw them, they might as well have been made of gold.

She reached forward to receive them, but the nurse pulled his handful back an inch before Lux's fingertips could so much as brush against the paper.

Lux scowled up at him. "You said I was cleared to write!"

The nurse pursed his lips as he looked down at her. He wore the tired expression of a medical professional whose solid advice to "calm down and rest" had been steadfastly ignored by his patient, and if Lux weren't so determined to get hold of the supplies he held, she might've felt shame at having inspired such a face. "You're cleared for non-strenuous activities such as reading and writing," the nurse sighed, "as long as you take a break every half-hour. 'A break' means five minutes with your eyes closed. If you feel any eyestrain, headache, or nausea, you are to stop immediately. Is that understood?"