Author's Note: Updated the summary. I planned this fic, but it soon started running away from my grasp and the original summary fit best with the original layout of the drabble-chapters.

The whole thing about Silco running funny comes from this tweet and its comments - twitter (dot com /Niku30_ /status/1507982167145697282 , and the whole fact of Silco's accent was only registered on my mind thanks to Lullabyes' fic "From the Ashes (I Rise)" on ao3. Can't recommend that fic enough.

Warning: abuse of authority, violence

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"Here ya go," Arro said as he handed Silco his coin.

"Thank you."

"Hey, always meant to ask ya," he added before Silco left. "Why the accent?"

"Excuse me?"

Arro chuckled. "Precisely. That. Ya sound like a Piltie, mate."

It's not that it was the first or last time someone would pick on it, but the way it was put made Silco feel as though he'd never been so offended in his short life.

"No I don't." Weak comeback, but he was too flusttered to manage anything better.

"Hey, whatever works for ya! Could fool a Piltie, so that may come in handy one day!"

"I speak normally," he protested, knowing it was not entirely true. His accent was different than most people, but mostly because he made a point in speaking properly like he'd been taught to do by his parents. It was a matter of stubborness and pride, most likely. No harm in that. "I just like to read and speak things the right way."

"Never heard a book speak," someone said behind Silco, making him spin around in a jolt as he recognized Benzo's voice. "That's a new."

"Screw you, Benzo."

"Hello to yourself too, kid."

"Hey, Silco." Vander walked in with Benzo, filling the small shop with his presence.

"Hi," he greeted them both with a cautious nod. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Enjoying a well deserved day off," Vander replied with a grin. He then nodded towards the bag Silco held close. "Seems like you should, too."

"I'll go back to the mines tomorrow," he commented. "Best not raise suspicions, right?"

Vander nodded, appearing satisfied, but Benzo huffed. "Honestly, who's gonna notice if we're not there? They always manage to get someone to do the work."

"Best do it, anyway. At least for a little while longer."

"Are you planning anything?" Silco asked without thinking, immediately regretting opening his mouth. He had seen how Vander didn't like questions and got ticked off easily by them. But either he was in a good mood today, or he actually expected to be asked.

"There's always jobs coming by. Benefits of knowing people," he replied, giving a nod towards Arro, who replied with a relaxed scoff.

"I figured he was the third guy by the merch he brought in," Arro said, giving an appreciative nod at Silco. "Didn't know ya had skill, kid. Always comes in handy."

"Thanks," Silco said, fighting not to shrug it off. He did firmly believe that having a reputation was what helped you get around (that and being physically strong, hence why Vander was the best of both worlds), but he didn't really feel comfortable with people knowing what he could or couldn't do. Not to mention just downright complimenting him. It felt weird. He was used to being mocked, not praised. And anyway, he was getting ahead of himself; what reputation was he supposed to have if a handful of people knew he could steal? So could half the Undercity.

"I'll have half yar stuff scattered around by tomorrow," Arro said at Vander. "Especially that fancy ass necklace from Orie. Should be turning into a nice hot mush as we speak. Amazing what the folks at the chemtech joint can do, huh?"

Vander nodded, satisfied. Suddenly catching himself still there, Silco made his way to the door, but Vander invited him to stay and catch up on the news over some drinks. Weighting his options and what job opportunities might come up in conversation, Silco carefully put away his bag of coin and agreed.

They had to wait for some time before Arro's employee came by to replace him at the pawnshop, and they exchanged some words with the girl as well for a while before they headed out to one of Arro's acquaintances who knew how to make strong moonshine. Silco had heard about the backalley place but only ever passed by it, always unable to scrape enough coin together to have the luxury to spend it. Not to mention it was the type of place best attended with some company than on your own. He felt a sense of accomplishment as he realized how much coin and company he currently had, and how he could treat himself a mug - could even treat the other three guys a round too if he wanted. It was impressive how having some money could make you feel so much better, just by simply giving you possibility.

They took their mugs outside and hanged around a nearby staircase, toasting before capsizing their drinks. The moonshine burned the back of his throat like acid but when he did manage to feel the aftertaste, it was pretty nice.

Vander, Benzo and Arro knew each other for ages, it seemed, and Arro was the owner of the place the two boys lived in, even though he couldn't even be ten years older than the teenagers. Without meaning to pry, he gathered up how Arro had got himself out of the mines and managed to find his steadying in the pawn business, and how it most likely had a lot to do with connections to some organized crime. Silco found himself included in their conversation effortlessly, and they moved from the hardships of the mines and their respective plans to get out of them in the future to much more lighthearted subjects, with the help of some more street kids that came by to say hi and quickly started telling and laughing over silly stories. Soon enough, Silco saw himself surrounded by a small group of people of all ages, dirty and roughened up by their jobs but content in their shared drinks and smokes. They sat on the steps, crosslegged on the floor or on foldable chairs they dragged with them. It felt as though he was in the presence of some fancy celebrities with how easily they gathered a crowd. Everyone seemed to know Vander one way or another.

Ideas were exchanged amongst shared moonshine, coughs, rolled cigarettes that tasted like chemicals and playing cards someone had brought with them, which honestly surprised Silco in many ways; compared to his own experience with the people he shared living space with, he didn't exactly feel this camaradie he now saw amongst these acquaintances and friends. Silco wasn't the most opened of people to begin with, and while they were amicable amongst themselves in the alleyway he lived in, yes, enough to not steal from one another at least, they didn't freely share heist plans or hauls. Having each others' back wasn't the norm as much as it was the exception. It did end up being a point of friction more often than not, but it was just how things were, or so he thought. He supposed this moment here was almost utopic, but it felt genuine, as far as Silco saw it. He appreciated it.

They were sharing laughs at one of the guys as he explained the Pilties' insane and luxurious bath and spa routines, making a whole parody of the procedures with his hands covered in soot and bringing half of them to tears as they jumped along the mockery; it was the only thing you could really do, it was too ridiculous and over the top to imagine how different people behaved up there while none of them down here had seen anything close to a shower in a week, at the very least. Silco was actually pretty lucky, as he did have to clean himself a bit for the job Topside. He was scoffing in utter surprise at one of the luducrous 'pampering' techniques when he noticed Arro nudging at Vander, his expression closing down.

"Heads up," he warned. The words snaked around the group and a couple scrammed at once. Instead of lowering his gaze like some people did, Silco raised his eyes, seeing them immediately; cutout against the grey, three Enforcers were marching in that direction. It didn't need a lot of guessing to know they'd be targetted, sitting ducks as they were. Suddenly Silco realized how dumb they had all been, so camly sitting around without a care in the world. As if they had the luxury.

"And what might you people be doing here?" one of them demanded to know first thing, as if just being together was enough of a crime.

"We're just chattin', boss," Vander said, surprisingly calm. Silco turned to him, seeing his face didn't fully match the calmness of the tone.

"Oh, you don't look like a troublemaker at all," the Enforcer said mockingly, making Vander's expression sour further.

"Can we help ya with anythin'?" one of the girls asked, standing up and revealing her pregnant belly. They were wearing eyecovers together with their respirators (wouldn't want the thick air of the Undercity to sting their eyes now would they?), but even so Silco could tell the look the Enforcer sent her could only be described as disgust.

"You can empty the streets. You're a walking hazard."

" 'Walking hazard' ?" someone repeated, incredulous.

"Shut up and get a move on," another Enforcer commanded, signalling with her hand like she was brushing off trash.

"What, we can't be sitting around now?"

"Come on, boss, we're not doing anything wrong!"

"Shouldn't you people be working?" the last Enforcer asked.

"It's our day off," Benzo replied sharply, holding his mug close. Silco noted how his fist was tightly closed around it.

"Day off? Getting pretty privileged down here," the Enforcer mocked, nudging at his partner like he had just said the funniest joke in the world.

"Screw you," Silco threw before he could stop himself, or anyone else for that matter. The Enforcer looked down on him and laughed.

"And pretty cocky too, it seems."

"We're not doing anything," Silco said, closing his fists, a burning in his chest making it harder to breathe. And think. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Well, well, will you look at that! Rats have started to speak down here!"

Silco wasn't alone in his contempt for the Enforcers. A wave of vocal protest rose from the group while he clenched his jaw, not feeling the more familiar sting of hurt or shame at the Enforcer's words as much as he felt rage.

"Are you kids deaf? Get a move on!"

While a couple of people were starting to whisper amongst themselves to just do as they were being told, the majority did not move. Two of the Enforcers were staring at the group waiting for more to join the complying part, but the third one had his sights on Silco after his impertinence.

"You talk too much, kid. You need to learn a lesson" he spat, pulling out his baton. At the movement, everyone stood up from their places, but no one was faster than Vander, who threw the chair to the ground. The man moved his head from Silco up to Vander, but didn't get to do much before Vander bellowed:

"Run!"

They did just that without a second of hesitation, each one of them scramming to opposite directions while Vander himself stayed behind long enough to throw a punch straight into the Enforcer's face, crushing his respirator against his skull.

"Vander!" Silco called, so stunned he actually stopped dead in his tracks at seeing the Enforcer fall back grunting and holding his face while the partners immediately screamed and darted after Vander. The teenager dropped one of the chairs they left behind to delay the Enforcers and ran towards Silco.

"I said run!" Vander yelled at him, grabbing him by the nape and forcing him to move so abruptly Silco almost stumbled and fell instead. He managed to regain his balance and restarted to run, sprinting after Vander while a flying mug passed just over his head; Benzo, he knew instinctively. He barely made out the sound of it hitting a helmet before Vander pushed down a bunch of crates to stall their pursuers.

Adrenaline pumping in his hears, Silco kept up with Vander better than he would've antecipated any other time. He knew he could escape Enforcers, but thete was always risk involved, with how much more physically fit and more stamina they had thanks to their fancy lifestyle. He replaced that thought with the reminder that they were in the Lanes, knew its nooks and crannies; they would lose the Enforcers faster than they'd ever be able to catch up. They had the upper hand here.

The people in the street ducked out of the way as they sprinted by, but Silco could hear several cheers and subsequent boos when they saw what was going on. Some people even helped, doing what they could to stall the Enforcers at their own expense, just like it happened when Silco was about to yell at Vander to make a turn up ahead and follow a shortcut he knew could hopefully get them to safety. A woman was peeking through her window and rushed to open her door, calling "Here!". Vander made a hard stop and threw himself through the door, and Silco rushed after him before the door closed shut again. The stomping of the Enforcers came soon after, their bellows and clanking of their armour echoing loud for a terryfing second before it lowered in the distance and disappeared.

"Let me... tell you," Vander tried, doubled over and huffing for breath. "You need... to learn how to... run properly."

Silco wheezed, slumping against the wall and sliding to the ground. "Screw you."

"And how to swear, too."

"Fuck off, Vander."

"See, that was fast! Now... try learning how to run."

Silco gave himself a moment to recall how to breathe properly before he could get his brain and heart to slow down and process where he was. Literally someone's house, a crammed room with boxes pilled up and a single chemtech-powered lamp that painted the surroundings in a hazy light. The air felt stuffy and acidic, but it was to be expected, in the part of the Undercity they were in, and Silco gladly sucked it in lungfuls. The owner of the place had closed her window shut had her ear against the door, the butt of a smoke stuck between her teeth.

"Thanks, Old Nana," Vander said to the woman in question. Of course he knew her.

"Don't mention it." Old Nana was a woman in her 40s, at best. She straightened back up and looked at the two slumped boys, coughing as she did so. "Stay here for an hour or so. They shouldn't come looking."

Vander nodded, coughing up for breath. "I need to get word with everyone. Let them know we're safe and know if they-"

"You'll let them know you're fine when you can. You can't help them now. Stay put."

"Should we go to the mines after?" Silco suggested. "Blend in around there, get lost in the crowd?"

"And get ourselves trapped in case the Enforcers show up? Nah."

"That's actually not such a bad idea," the woman said. "They won't think you'd go back to work."

"I punched one in the face," Vander said categorically. "Still think it's good to get stuck between a rock and a hard place?"

Silco saw her bite back her words, sighing.

"Damn kids..." she hissed under her breath. "Could've thought that one through, huh, Vander?"

"They were gonna start hitting us just because. You know I couldn't just sit there and suck the damn Pilties up."

"Actually, I..." Silco tried to say, feeling like he needed to take responsibility; it had been his fault, Vander had just reacted to what he had caused, but neither of them paid him much attention.

"And you know I like to punch an Enforcer as much as the next person, but there's a time and a place, Vander. For fuck's sake."

"That was the time and the place!"

Old Nana sucked her smoke, coughing up the next moment. "I'm not gonna have a fight with you now, Vander."

"Then don't act up you wouldn't have done the same thing I did."

"They're making their shows of strength, what do you expect? There's been more robberies in Piltover these past weeks, so they've increased the patrols on the bridge and down here."

Silco and Vander exchanged looks.

"They didn't even ask anything about that," Silco said as if he wanted to reassure himself. "They were just jerks."

"Typical," Old Nana shrugged. "It's not like they need an excuse, but if they get one, we're the ones that fucked."

She looked at Silco as if she was assessing him, and turned to Vander again.

"Stay put, you two. You're as safe here as you'll be anywhere. Stop thinking with your fists for once and listen to someone who's broken a few bones because of those shitfaces."

"Deep down you have a heart of gold, Old Nana," Vander said, his voice still hard but his tone teasing.

"And an outside made of old tired rock to go with it," she replied sharply, though she cracked a smirk in that tough exterior. She pointed her chin to Silco. "You, kid, sit on one of the boxes, the floor's a mess."

Silco scrambled back up and did as he was told. Vander picked a box himself and sat next to him while Old Nana went to a backdoor to scrap something for them to eat, even though both of them said they didn't need anything (and were promptely shushed by a sharp remark and more of that coughing). The sound of it was familiar enough to Silco to leave him uncomfortable.

"How's your hand?" he asked when Vander cleaned a sheen of sweat from his forehead. It was an angry red that would turn purple and blue in no time for sure, the skin scrapped open and beads of blood were drying over the knuckles.

"Nah, it's nothing," he replied without barely giving the hand a look. "Need to get myself some gaunlets next time, huh."

Silco hummed, not fully convinced. That had to hurt.

Old Nana returned with bread that was almost too hard to bite and some sort of fried bugs that seemed, if not for anything else, pretty crunchy. She shoved two mismatched plates in their hands she fished out of the top box in a corner, and Silco recognized his from Vander's part of the Piltover's job haul, looking completely out of place in its bright colours and delicate flowered patterns against the dirty half-lit room with no real furniture and cockroaches casually roaming by. She noticed Vander's hand too and it seemed as though they'd start fighting again when she wouldn't take Vander's dismissal for an answer, but she simply turned and left again.

"She's grumpy as all hell, but she has her heart in the right place. You can trust her," Vander told him in a reassuring tone while they waited, both of them mutually agreeing to not eat without the owner of the house present, making Silco raise his eyes from the plate.

He opened his mouth before he thought things through, and what he ended up saying was: "You trust people easily, don't you?" and he immediately regretted it. Fearing he'd get Vander mad, he tried to rephrase it, not really improving it by much. "I mean, you know a lot of people, and you seem to trust all of them, that's just... weird. I... I don't know. I... nevermind."

Part of him was immediately aware of how naive he sounded and he chastised himself internally. He couldn't afford people thinking he was naive; never downplay yourself in front of others, a simple and pretty straightforward survival rule. And what the hell did he know about Vander? He started actually talking with him like two days ago. He hated sounding like a stupid little kid who didn't know better. Having loads of acquaitances wasn't the same as trusting them. Vander seemed to know half the Undercity, and he surely didn't trust all of them, he couldn't. But he did seem to throw the word around, like he did with Silco himself. Either he meant it, or he was playing Silco. He didn't want to think it was the second option, but the first one was too strange.

Old Nana returned precisely at that moment, which Silco thought could get him off the hook of the situation, but Vander didn't seem to mind her presence.

"That's not quite right," he said. "You don't need to trust everyone. You need to respect people, but you need to make sure that respect is mutual. Can't let people assume they can walk over you. And when they try, remind them who they're actually dealing with."

While Old Nana extended a bottle of clean water (probably from the haul as well) for Vander to wash his wounds, Silco gave the words some thought, humming. "I suppose it's easier when you have the strength to back it up."

Vander turned at him with a puzzled look on his face. Silco shrugged unenthusiastically.

"Look at me. Only thing I scare is a blind dog. And even then I probably wouldn't be much of a challenge." So much for not downplaying in front of others. Even if it was the truth.

Silco felt a bit of relief when Vander coughed out a laugh, looking at Old Nana. "You should see him in action. He's got the spirit and more."

"Doesn't seem dull-headed like you, at least," she added, and Silco found himself uncomfortable yet again. "You must have other things in your favour, kid."

"Sure does," Vander reassured her. "He's like us."

Old Nana nodded, as if she understood something Silco didn't; which she did. He looked at them both, trying to read whatever they had in those three words.

"What do you mean?"

"You hate Piltover."

"So does everyone else," he found himself saying. "No one likes Piltover."

"There's a difference between what you think and what you do," Vander explained, wrapping his hand in a piece of cloth he was given. "Most people just get comfortable in being miserable, in hating them but living with it. People like us don't."

Silco was lost. He looked at Old Nana, seeing her take a new cigarette and light it.

"You barely know me. Why would you even say something like that?"

"You know why the Enforcer got all worked up?" Vander asked Old Nana, nodding his head at Silco.

"It was me," Silco hurried up to say before Vander could continue, picking up his previous apology that he had left hanging. Old Nana simply stared at him, calmly smoking and coughing. "I didn't think things through, I got angry-"

"Precisely. You talked back. Strongest resolves in the smallest packages, huh?"

"I... what?"

She gave an approving smile. "Keep the spirit, kid. One day your generation will build something great."

"Come on, Old Nana," Vander said now, but again, she wouldn't have it.

"Change won't come in my lifetime, Vander. It takes time I don't have. I won't be alive to see it, but you boys will."

"I just said what we were all thinking," Silco felt he needed to clarify, the sudden somber tone bothering him. "I didn't change anything."

"Of course you did," it was Old Nana who said it, not Vander. "We need to stand together against those idiots from Topside. Every gesture matters. I heard the cheers outside while you were running. People hate Piltover, but not everyone can or will take action against them. What you did was action. Doesn't matter if it seems small."

"But if I hadn't, Vander wouldn't have punched the Enforcer. You just said earlier-"

"What I said earlier is because I know this little punk. He doesn't need incentives to punch people."

Vander scoffed. He turned his eyes to Silco.

"Would you have prefered to be quiet?" he asked straightforwardly.

Silco gaped momentarily. It would've certainly been easier, but then again...

He remembered the way the Enforcers talked. The orders they gave, and how they acted. It reminded him of every other time he'd seen people mistreated by them, how many times he had been chased by them for even being seen walking the streets Topside. It reminded him of the mines and how he hated it there, of the fact that he didn't have a bed or a roof over his head, of the fact he didn't have clothes or shoes beyond the tattered ones he wore. It reminded him of the fact he didn't have parents, of the fact it was hard to breathe.

The rage returned effortlessly.

No. He wouldn't have been quiet.

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