She just had to pull the pin
https://youtu.be/WPDpgSBEWaI?si=ol-R71E13yBEd9lr
There's something called dissociative amnesia, which is when you have small memory lapses due to trauma.
That wasn't the case for Jinx, she wished she had forgotten, she wished she didn't remember but it was quite the opposite. She remembered everything in perfect detail, she remembered Vander's scent, Mylo's strong cologne, and Claggor's soft scent. She remembered the emotions in Silco's eyes when they met in that alley, the anger in Vi's eyes and the love in Isha's.
She just wanted to forget, she didn't want to remember how much she had lost and how she never seemed to stop.
Jinx's feet were bleeding as she walked through the broken glass of The Last Drop but she didn't feel pain, she just felt numb.
It was like being underwater, that constant pressure on your head that blocks your ears and hurts your lungs. The pressure that makes you desperately want to breathe. But she couldn't force herself to open her mouth and breathe, she would simply let the pressure consume her until she would unconsciously open her mouth and die.
This is how it should have happened. She shouldn't be alive.
Jinx looked at the bar one last time before leaving, there were only painful memories. A part of her wanted to burn the place down, burn absolutely everything but she couldn't. Those painful memories were something for Sevika, for Silco and for her children. She couldn't get rid of them even if she wanted to.
With her feet bleeding she walked through the deserted streets of Zaun, there was not as much trash as before, she had taken care of that. The air felt cleaner. But did that matter?
Her blue hair dragged along the ground, her outfit a cream color now dirty with blood and dirt, a gift given to her by the enforcers. Her fingers were burning and her nails were chipped, she had ruined them scratching herself trying to give herself as much pain as possible.
As soon as Jinx entered her house she felt like a bucket of cold water fell on her. The smell. The lights. The toys. The clothes. The stuffed animals. The drawing books.
The baby bottle.
Jinx walked with hurried steps leaving a trail of blood behind her, she crashed into her metal desk grabbing the baby bottle with shaking hands. There was still fresh milk in it.
Milk for her baby, for Beni. For her baby.
Her baby.
Her knees gave way and she fell to the floor, the baby bottle still in her hands, soon pink tears raining down her cheeks. She forcefully pressed the baby bottle to her chest with sobs beginning to shake her body.
Her Beni. He would drink from a bottle sometimes. Most of the time she would breastfeed him, she loved doing it, knowing that she was feeding her son felt amazing. Knowing that her body was preventing him from starving made her feel fulfilled.
The body that also fed Isha, her baby, who was 5 years old, for over a year.
Her baby was only 5 years old, she would never grow older, she would never turn 10, she would never have her first kiss or her first crush, she never got to meet her dad. Who was dead.
Jinx sobbed loudly, pressing her forehead to the ground, her body hunched around the bottle. The pain hit her hard, her feet, her fingers, her chest, her head, everything. Her breasts ached, they were full of milk but there was no one to feed, no more... no, there wasn't any more.
With her hands shaking, she let go of the bottle and grabbed her hair, pulling it hard, her nails scratching her scalp, tearing out clumps of hair. Small screams escaped from her dry, bruised lips. She slammed her forehead hard against the turbine blade, and more screams escaped.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair.
She knew she wasn't a good person, but her children were, they were innocent and they were taken from her. Janna welcomed them into her embrace. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she didn't take her too.
Their children, their daughter and son. Their Isha and their Beni. So sweet. So innocent. Full of life.
So good and yet they are dead.
They are dead.
And it was her fault, as always.
She slammed her forehead against the metal again. She should never have let her children out of her sight, she should have been by their side. But she didn't and they are gone. And there's nothing she can do to get them back.
She held her belly tightly. Nine months. She carried them for nine months. She gave birth to them for more than 10 hours. And she held them so gently and delicately. All so she could kill them, like she did with all the others.
She shouldn't have followed her father, Vander. She should have let Vi drown in a bottle. She should have continued to rule Zaun. She should have remained focused on her children. She should have continued helping the firelights.
But she was selfish, she decided to follow Vander, find Vi and visit Viktor. And now... now there was nothing. Nothing.
Vi tried to convince her to keep fighting for Zaun, for Piltover, and for her children. But Jinx couldn't keep fighting, not anymore, she was tired. She was so tired, she could never catch a break, when everything seemed to be going well something had to ruin it, something always ruined it. She ruined it.
She stood up from the floor on shaky legs, placed a soft kiss on the bottle and set it on her desk. When she turned to go to the bedroom she saw clothes on the red couch. She staggered over to the couch, grabbed the clothes with trembling hands, and held them up to her nose.
The smell of milk, paint, talcum powder and motor oil invaded her. That smell was from their babies. Beni's onesie and Isha's pajamas. Which she made by hand, with so much love. And now they would no longer use them.
She pressed the clothes hard against her nose, breathing in that scent that had comforted her so much, that she adored so much and that she would never smell again.
She hugged the clothes to her chest and walked back to her desk, still holding the clothes she searched around throwing everything away in the process, but she didn't care. She rummaged and rummaged until she found, there beneath many pieces of metal and toys, the first bomb Isha had made.
She took it and pressed it against her forehead, tears still streaming down her face. Isha had been so excited when she made that bomb, Jinx couldn't have been prouder. Just remembering Isha's huge smile and bright eyes made her chest ache.
With slow movements she took the hextech gemstone out of her pocket and looked at it. That stone... That fucking stone was the cause of many of her misfortunes. Her family, her children, perished because of it. The blue glow hurt her eyes and she wished she could break the stone into a thousand pieces.
Jinx was very careful as she opened Isha's bomb and placed the hextech gemstone inside. Her finger played with the pin for a moment. Her children's clothes still pressed against her chest.
She just had to pull the pin and it would all be gone. The pain would be over. She just had to pull the pin. She would be with her children again. She just had to pull the pin. She would see her parents. She just had to pull the pin. She would see Ekko. She just...had to... pull the pin.
Jinx pressed Isha and Beni's clothes against her nose one last time, took a deep breath of their scent, and pulled the pin.
Death was always a peaceful concept for Jinx, it was something close. Something she knew how to attract. Death was a friend.
Vi would be fine, she had Caitlyn. Sevika would be fine too, she would lead Zaun and do it better than her. Kayn would leave Zaun, he would be fine. Scar would hate her even more and add their faces to the mural. Caitlyn would probably be happy, or not.
Everything was going to be okay.
She believed that death was peaceful, but her head hurt and so did her body. She felt herself hitting the ground, but she couldn't open her eyes. There were voices all around her, she felt her fingers drop Isha's bomb and she could swear she heard her dad's voice, Silco's and Vander's too.
She didn't open her eyes, she simply let herself be carried away by the unconsciousness and the soft voice that seemed to be Ekko's.