Yours, always and forever | Timebomb fanfic | ekko×jinx

9. Shadows of regret

His world was a haze—thick, heavy, disorienting. Faint beeps and soft hums buzzed around him, but their meaning slipped through his fogged mind like water through cracked hands. Every part of him ached, a dull throb pulsing through his chest, as if his body had been pulled apart and stitched back together in a rush. Something weighed down on him—unfamiliar, oppressive. He couldn't remember why.

Eyes fluttered open, blink, blinking against the light, the ceiling above him too white, too sterile. The scent of antiseptic burned his nostrils, sharp, overwhelming, and the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor sliced through the silence, a constant reminder of the life that was still inside him.

The world around blurred at first, but slowly the vision cleared. Tubes. Wires. Machines. He felt tethered, bound to this place by a web of technology, monitors flashing the dance of his vital signs, each beep a reminder that he was still here. A mask covered his face, forced air sliding in and out, filling his lungs with a cold, steady stream. Where the hell am I?

Tried to move, but his body felt heavy, sluggish, reluctant. A sharp pain shot through him, but it didn’t matter. He was here. Somewhere unfamiliar. Somewhere... clean. Too clean. The walls were so white, they almost glowed, free from the grime and rust that tainted everything he knew. The bed was soft, the sheets crisp and white, alien against his skin. He swallowed, the cold sensation of unease spreading through his chest. This wasn’t Zaun. This wasn’t home.

Thoughts swirled, questions pulling at him like claws, scratching at the edges of his mind. Where was he? This wasn’t Zaun, not any part of it he recognized.

This place, with its gleaming walls, its sophisticated machines, its sterile perfection—couldn’t be Zaun. Piltover? He couldn’t even grasp the idea. The stories he’d heard—luxury hospitals, clean streets, towering spires above... none of it had ever been real to him. Until now.

His heart raced, a strange, jagged fear gripping his chest. The last thing he remembered—the ship, the fall, the cold water swallowing him whole—and then her face. Jinx’s face, twisted in disappointment, her eyes wide with something sharp and broken. But how had he ended up here?

The door creaked open.

A figure. A blur at first, but then clear—an assistant, her eyes wide with surprise when she saw him awake. She froze, caught in the moment, before turning and fleeing out the door with an almost frantic urgency, leaving it slightly ajar.

And then—footsteps, fast, approaching.

The door opened again, and a woman stepped inside. Her presence, calm, unwavering, filled the room with a strange authority. Ekko’s heart jolted in his chest, his breath hitching, as recognition hit him like a punch. It was her. Janna.

The air thickened, the haze of confusion lifting just enough for him to see the truth. She was here, standing before him, and nothing felt real anymore. Not the machines. Not the room. Not the world outside.

Everything had shifted, and all he could do was wonder—what the hell had happened?

The sight of her hit him like a freight train, memories crashing into him, flooding his senses until they overwhelmed him. She was almost exactly as he remembered—almost, but not quite. The same softness in her eyes, the same grace in her movements, but there were lines now, lines carved deep with worry, with time, with pain. His heart twisted at the sight of her, and yet her eyes—those eyes—still held the warmth, the kindness, the compassion that had always been her core.

Janna moved toward him, slow and deliberate, as if every step was measured, as if she feared disturbing the fragile balance of reality. She reached out, her hand a gentle, steady weight on his arm.