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INEJ
Inej knew pain well. It was something she was intimately familiar with, a long time friend. She had found comfort at times, in a world where cold numbness was a few steps too close to death, a sharp pain was a welcome reminder of life. She’d never desired it, of course not, but there was something oddly soothing about waking and realizing that you were wholly alive. She could push through almost anything, if she pushed herself far enough, if she distanced herself from the pain enough. It was a skillset she had mastered long ago and it had served her well in this new life she had carved. She knew pain, as her scars could attest to, as her wariness could speak to, but this was different.
This was not the welcome type of pain.
She was alive. She knew that for sure. But pain usually was not usually accompanied by this deep and penetrating sorrow .
She laid on her back in this same dark room, minutes blurring into hours as she fought the urge to scream; to cry, to do something, anything. The pain in her leg was all consuming, and the knowledge that her future was destroyed did not help. It was just the one- just her right- that had been damaged. She tried to push the memories from hours earlier out of her mind, already the fear was dulling the edges of this memory. The way the terror caused it to fade in and out of her mind was the only welcome factor at the moment. All she knew at the moment was terror and pain. Through these two things, she tried to think. But she had already exhausted herself of any sort of plan. How was she supposed to escape with a bad leg? The answer was that she could not. Van Eck had said he was being merciful. Merciful . She’d wanted to tear his tongue right out of his mouth as he had said that. The other one tomorrow then , he had said, when it was done. She wasn’t quite ashamed, but she was close. Her voice had been so weak sounding, she wished more than much that she could have taken it, could have gone through that ordeal with tight lips and a steely expression. In the end, she was just a girl. A girl who had everything already taken from her and was somehow losing more.
So she simply laid on her back in the dark, praying to all of her Saints that… well, she didn’t know. What could she even pray for anymore? For Kaz to come for her? If he did at all- which she highly doubted- when he saw her state, wasn’t it more likely he would turn on his heel rather than risk anything for a broken spider? And what else was there to do but hope that something changed? She could lie here and hope she died in the dark but no, she didn’t truly want that. She wanted to escape the pain but not like that. There was so much she had left to do, and even if her foundation was crumbling beneath her, she still had her mind. She still had her voice. It was all she could ask for, maybe she should lower that expectation as well… nevertheless, she still had a few more fights left in her. Even if it didn’t feel like it, she still had life left to live.
The next night came. She prepared herself for the worst, for a repetition of the night before, for death itself. But no. Kaz was coming. Kaz for coming for her.
She laughed. She did not know why. If she was asked, it would be impossible to discern the reason. Maybe it was because she was drunk on pain, on her terror. Maybe it was because she knew Kaz would have no use for her after he found out she was damaged beyond repair. She was not finding humor in anything, but she laughed anyways. This was the nightmare of nightmares, and she was never going to wake up.
Noon tomorrow.
She counted the hours, the minutes, the seconds. Again, the reason she did not know. It only drew out her agony. But she wanted to see them again, wanted to see him again, even if she never did after. Perhaps she wouldn’t be blind folded at the bridge, what was she going to do? Run? They had already done what she didn’t dare fear would happen to her, she could not run, she could not slip away from them like she might have a few days ago. Things were different now and all she wanted was to see Kaz, to have one last image of him in her mind that she could hold onto. And perhaps it would be cold, it would be cruel as he often was, but she didn’t care. That would be enough for now. That would be enough of a goodbye; the closure that she desired. She was no longer an investment with anything to back it, she wasn’t worth anything anymore. Per Haskell would throw her out, Kaz would turn his back on her, and she would be alone again. In debt and desperate, again.
She closed her eyes against the dark, tightly. She was determined not to cry, not to show any more weakness than she already had. So when Van Eck’s men came again (a little earlier than noon she assumed), she steeled herself. Two men held her tightly between them, making it so that she was slightly elevated. She did not want to be carried, at least this gave her some false sense of autonomy.
“Shackle her arms.” Van Eck was turned away from her. She nearly spat at his feet right then.
“Sir, I don’t think-” one of the guards holding her began. She did not recognize him.
“Just do it.” Van Eck snapped. “Today will not be the day I underestimate one of Brekkers.”
She almost smiled then. At least she still brought him a little worry, at least she still held some power. Inej held onto that feeling as she was moved, shoved around and into the back of some carriage. The pain was the most intense she’d ever felt, the bones in her ankle and calf were ruined. Van Eck had been very deliberate in what he had wanted done to her. Make it so that she could not scale walls anymore, make it so that it caused her pain with every step. He had not cared about her excuses about Kaz after hours of thought.
“He will come,” he had said while leaning over her. “I know he will. And I think you know he will, too.”
She hadn’t, not truly. But when she’d heard that he was coming, that he was there, something in her twinged with relief. Perhaps it was selfish, to want to be saved when she had no use for him anymore, but she found herself being relieved that she was wrong. Who could blame her? She was preparing for the worst in every single scenario, and Kaz not turning up really wasn’t very high on the list of “worst things”. It was a lot closer to reality, and it hurt to acknowledge that, but at least it had been something she was mentally prepared for. This hope she felt fluttering in her chest was a little too powerful for this darkness she was shrouded in, she wanted to let it go. Let it fly away so that she wouldn’t be crushed by disappointment when another terrible thing inevitably came around, but she couldn’t seem to lessen her hold on it.
She was a little too relieved when they did not blindfold her, instead pulled a hood over her head, concealing her face in a shadow. She kept her chin down, forced there by the two guards holding her. No one would be able to see her face but she knew that the rest of the Dregs would easily be able to pull her out of the small crowd they had. She didn’t exactly blend in, the small, black clad girl being held as tightly as a death row prisoner. She kept trying to glance up but couldn’t make anything out, she saw a few pairs of shoes in front of her, but the moment she tried to lift her head, one of the guards jostled her. Causing pain to go up her leg, she put her head back down. She could faintly make out the sound of voices, muffled by the distance and her own pounding head. She was being hit by all of the human necessities she had been neglecting, her hunger gnawed at her stomach, her throat was so dry, and the pain amplified every single movement.
She hadn’t been ready when they dropped her to her feet, her weight dropping onto her injured leg the same way it wouldn’t any other day where she was not injured. It was horrifying, the way she crumbled. She dropped to her knees, which only caused the pain to worsen. She burned, everything burned; with humiliation, with sorrow, with pain. The Wraith didn’t fall, and when she did, she got right back up. She rolled with the motion, she lifted herself even when it seemed like there was no way to get up. But she wasn’t The Wraith anymore, she couldn’t be. It had been stripped from her the same way her identity had been stripped from her at the Menagerie. She was just a Suli girl, on her knees, struggling to her feet once again.
The silence was only interrupted by the soft swishing of water underneath the bridge, she bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. No one moved, she didn’t even seem to breath, as she pushed herself to stand. This was her lowest, she knew. This was not how she wanted to meet Kaz’s eye, as she lifted her head, hood falling back. Her hands were shackled in the front, knives tucked into her jacket, but her legs were free. She wasn’t sure why, maybe to make her walk. Maybe Van Eck had only insisted on her arms so that everybody would watch her struggle to do the barest of tasks. It was humiliating and she felt her face burn along with every other part of her, but she kept her expression steely.
Kaz was looking at her, his expression also hard and concealing something underneath that she couldn’t discern. She wanted to be able to lift whatever veil separated them, hear his thoughts word for word. That was an impossibility, she knew, but it didn’t stop her from yearning to know what was going through his head at that very moment. Each step was an agony, flames licking at her chest, behind her eyes. But she forced herself to walk that 20-or-so feet to where Kaz stood, her injury was the most obvious thing about her at the moment. It was easy to act as if it was better than it actually was, though, she could pretend that she just had a simple limp. That she had sprained her ankle and it would heal within the weak. Inej was good at that, she would not show the world this kind of shame. That would come indoors, in the dark, when no one could see that she was broken. That would come later.
“Your knives?” was the first thing out of Kaz’s mouth. She was unsurprised.
“They’re packed inside my coat.” she replied, forcing the tremble to stay out of her voice. He cut the bonds that kept her arms in front of her, she rubbed her wrists absently, keeping all of her weight on her left leg. She caught Kaz’s look down at her right, trying to figure out what was off with it. He still had that cold expression on, she couldn’t possibly try to read it. Whatever plan he had had, it was screwed up now. She was dead weight, a factor which he hadn’t prepared for. She didn’t know what came next but she knew exactly what train of thought must be going through his head. What was he supposed to do with her?
Her vision was swimming, the pain in her leg was growing with every moment, she didn’t know how much longer she could hold on for. But she wouldn’t pass out now, not when she was so close to freedom. Or what she could reasonably call freedom at the moment. She would do what she had to do, doom herself to even worse than she already was, if it meant they all got out of there safely and in one piece.
And then, chaos erupted.
Everything whirled around her, she was vaguely aware of being moved again (the agony wasn’t easy to ignore) but the swirling of color and sounds of voices were overwhelming. Her senses were all over the place but she felt herself being slightly lifted and moved not so gently towards the wall that separated them and the water below. She heard Kaz’s gruff voice say something in her ear but she didn’t catch it. Then she was going over the ledge of the bridge, oh Saints what’s going on? But she wasn’t falling, she stayed suspended in midair for a moment. She looked up. Kaz was holding onto both of her wrists, his gloved fingers curled tightly so that she would not fall. She met his eyes, there was a message that she could understand. At least that was something. She glanced down, and below her was a flower boat, rowing down the river. She looked back up and gave Kaz a single, resolute nod. His expression was a little different now, as if he understood that dropping her from this height would cause her indescribable pain. Not quite apologetic but there was something like it there. This was something that she would have been able to do with ease a week ago, but now, she breathed in deeply through her nose and let go of Kaz before he could do the same for her.
She was the Wraith, she had to be, even just for one more single moment. The drop was quick, her heart dropped into her stomach, and before she knew it, she was hitting the boat. It was a small boat, and she didn’t have as much space to make her landing work the way she would’ve liked, but at least her muscle memory was still intact. She covered her head, tried to spread the impact as much as she could without spilling over the side of the boat.
She did not feel strong. She was broken, there was nothing more she could do but lie there. She had failed in every regard, she had lost her purpose, she had lost her title, her identity. And now, she would lose Kaz, she would lose the Dregs, and she would lose the dream of hunting slavers someday. Cruelest of cruelties.
Her vision faded in and out, she was not in her body. She was slipping into the dark, as she had done often before, a welcome comfort. She was disappearing into the shadows where the pain would be dulled and she would be soothed by the coolness of being all by her lonesome. And when she woke- she did not want to think about what would happen when she woke. Maybe for once she could move in the now, in the moment, instead of thinking of every step that was to come. Every jump she had to make, anticipating everything before it happened. She could simply settle and rest. Saints, she really wanted to rest.
She could not escape her demons however.
“Inej.” Kaz’s voice was enough to cause her to open her eyes slightly, everything slightly blurry. “Inej, you have to stay with me.”
Her mouth tasted like metal, she couldn’t form any words. Finally, she murmured, “I’m tired, Kaz.” because really, what else was there to say?
And it all went dark.
KAZ
He had known something was off the moment he had laid eyes on her. The way she held herself, the way the men around her held her. His Wraith was proud, she would not allow herself to be held tightly like that unless she needed it, desperately. He hadn’t anticipated her to fall however, he would’ve rushed forward to help her stand had 1. many very armed people had not been surrounding her and 2. he had expected the moment at all. Inej didn’t fall, it was something she prided herself on. She never stumbled, she never lost her footing. To see her on her knees like that tore something in his chest, a switch flipped and all he wanted to do was set Van Eck’s trousers alight and watch flames consume his body. She’s hurt . He suddenly wanted to go back on the deal, keep Alys to them, and spit at Van Eck’s feet, before remembering that having Inej come back unharmed was never part of the deal. He should’ve said something, he shouldn’t have let something as important as that fall into ambiguity.
It pained him to watch her fall, even if it wasn’t that far of a fall. He rushed as fast as he could to follow her onto the boat, doing his best to track the others’ movements before going after the flower boat. Panic started edging at his thoughts as he saw her there, sprawled and barely breathing. But breathing nonetheless. He considered shaking her awake, he considered splashing water on her, but instead, he went against every single one of his instincts and simply placed a gloved hand on her arm. He gripped her softly, if she was even semi awake he hoped this would communicate his presence well enough. It made him feel better, anyways, to have her there, physical proof just under his palm.
His entire plan had fallen apart the moment he saw her hit the cobblestone of the bridge, the foundation of his house of cards becoming flimsy. A simple breeze would be enough to cause it to crumble at the open. There was much he had to think on, futurewise, but at the moment, the most important thing was getting Inej somewhere safe and quiet. Which would be considerably more difficult now that she was incapacitated but he would get this simple task done. He would do her this much, at least. After failing her in this matter and so much more, he could do this.
So this was how he found himself in the basement of the closest safe house he owned: tired, heated with anger, and searching for a word that felt stronger than worry.
He’d set Inej down on a cot in the corner, her frame thinner than he remembered, her weight so much lighter than the last time he’d carried her. He leaned against the wall, his grip on his cane like iron. There was nothing strong enough to describe the thoughts in his mind, the feelings rising in his chest. He’d always been protective of Inej, it was something understood in the Barrel. You didn’t touch Kaz Brekker’s Wraith. Of course, if you did it was likely she would handle you before word even reached him, but it was understood. Inej could take care of herself but his protection meant there were very few people who would attempt to hurt her. Van Eck was one of those people who crossed that line, apparently, and Kaz was ready to march back up those stairs and force the man to face the consequences Dirtyhands was preparing for him.
There wasn’t anything he could do while he waited. Plot his enemies demise, yes, but other than be consumed by his own thoughts, he had nothing to occupy him while Inej slept. So he just sat against the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest. He knew he must’ve looked a little ridiculous but he refused to leave, to do anything other than wait and know for sure that she was alright.
It was only an hour or so before she stirred, the rustling of the sheets deafening in the quiet of the dark room. He rose to his feet, taking several long strides to reach her bedside.
“Kaz?” she blinked up at him, eyes finally clear and expression less severe, if a little twisted from whatever pain she was experiencing. “What’s- where are we?”
“Somewhere safe.” he answered, crouching down to be at about her eye level. She tracked him, meeting his gaze evenly. “A safehouse. No one will find us here.”
She looked away, her eyes leaving his to stare up at the ceiling. “Did everyone get out?”
“I think so.” he said. “It was more complicated than I expected, but everyone was prepared for worse than that.”
She nodded softly, something he couldn’t quite understand in her expression. He watched carefully as she began pulling herself up into a sitting position, which she could do easily enough. That was a relief, nothing from the waist up was hurt enough to keep her lying in bed. The rest of her however…
“What did he do to you?” he couldn’t help himself, his anger was stronger than anything. His words were biting, every bit of disgust and fury he felt seeping into them. He tried to back off a bit, though, when he focused on the present again and saw her. She looked… well, she looked a few steps away from timid. Not quite there, Inej could never be timid, but she twisted her sleeve between her fingers, the gesture was enough to make Kaz believe there was something more weighing on her. He could sense it easily, Kaz was smart, he knew Inej, knew what was important to her. She was an acrobat and an acrobat was nothing without their legs to keep them steady. To have that pulled from her- no matter how temporary it was or wasn’t- must be incredibly difficult to manage mentally. He wanted to reach out, to place his hand on top of hers and stop her anxious twitching. Comfort her in some way.
He didn’t do that, though, he simply sat back on his heels and waited in the silence.
“He- uh-” she bit her bottom lip, fighting against a quiver at the edge of her voice. He didn’t say a word, he let her collect her words before speaking again.
“He broke my leg.” she said finally, her voice steady in a way that was easily discerned as fake. Her hand curled into a fist beside her, gripping tightly to the sheets she sat on. “He broke my leg, Kaz.”
He still didn’t know what to say. He supposed any other person in this moment would move to comfort her but he was not that person, he was not the right person for this moment. He should have the right words prepared, shouldn’t he? What had he wanted someone to tell him when he broke his own leg? He wasn’t sure. Their two situations were far too different from each other, in his mind, he couldn’t try and compare them. Saints, why couldn’t he just know what the right thing to do was? He was supposed to be self assured, confident, but when it came to things like this… yes, he was more than a little lost.
“It’ll get better,” he said finally. “Rest and a good medik. We’ll get-”
“That won’t-” she cut herself off, eyes looking off into the distance but the distance was really just the wall opposite the bed. “Not with something like this. Bed rest won’t put my bones back together. I won’t- it’s not going to ‘get better’.”
That silenced him, he pressed his lips together tightly. He had no rebuttal. He knew very little about medicine, so he couldn’t offer her any assurances in that regard. He wouldn’t be able to tell her one way or the other, so he just said nothing about that again.
“He made sure of it,” she went on, her voice weighed with hundreds of pounds of anger and grief. “He made sure it was broken in a way that would never be the same. It’ll never- I won’t ever be the same.”
“I…” he didn’t have the right words to console her. There wasn’t anything he could say that would bridge the gap between them, her anger and sorrow was warranted, and he was simply along for the ride. He had never been one for comforting words, it was never his forte. He simply let his presence speak for itself. If he cared enough to be there, that should be enough. He found many others didn’t agree with that, but to him, it was enough. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t waste his time. He had never wanted to be better at formulating comforts as much as right then. He wanted to reach across this divide between them he had cultivated with every cold shoulder and every moment of distance, but it was a divide he had created for a reason. He could not breach it now, he felt that it was too late. There was a time and place for everything, besides. The time and place for rocking the boat was not now, most definitely.
“You’ll be okay, Wraith.” it was the best he could come up with, which he knew was woefully insufficient. Worse than insufficient, in hindsight, it was one of the worst things that could’ve fallen from his mouth in that moment.
“Don’t you see, I can’t be your Wraith anymore, Kaz!” she burst out, turning to look at him with shining eyes and pain written on every part of her face.
His lips parted in understanding. It hadn’t gone over his head, the thought that this injury would keep her from wall climbing or jumping from rooftops. He just hadn’t stopped to think about (or maybe had avoided it altogether) how that would affect… whatever it was that held the two of them together. They were held together with a thin piece of thread, constantly having a fear looming over them that they would snap apart and be unable to put the pieces back together. That once the string broke, they would no longer fit together anymore. He couldn’t imagine doing any of this without her, even just the week she had been kidnapped by Van Eck had been a misery. What was he to do if she left the Dregs?
“I’m not a valuable investment anymore.” she bit out finally, her words cold. “You shouldn’t have come for me. You wouldn’t have, had you known.”
It was something he couldn’t stand to feel fall on his ears. His anger was stronger than anything else, at Van Eck for doing this to her, at himself for making her believe all of these things she said. He knew he had been the one to plant the seed of doubt in her mind from the very beginning. Every harshness, every time he turned away, he had made her believe she was nothing more than an investment that, when expired, could be easily tossed aside. He couldn’t let it stand, he wouldn’t.
“I would come for you.” he said, this time without hesitation. It was something he had to say. He had to. And when she shot him a look filled to the brim with doubt, he said it again. “I would come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I'd crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together — knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that’s what we do. We never stop fighting.”
There was a long stretch of silence and for a moment, he partially panicked. He might’ve said the wrong thing, might’ve upset her further. Since when did he care about the right or the wrong thing to say? He was Kaz Brekker, and he didn’t care what opinions others held for him and he never had. That was a lie, of course, one he told himself in the late hours of the night and every minute of the day when he couldn’t shake the feeling he got every time he looked at Inej. It was the biggest lie anyone had ever told him, and he was telling it to himself. He cared about her opinion, he cared about her opinion of him , and more than anything, he simply cared about her. Cut and dry. Simple as anything.
She didn’t reply, simply turned her head slightly to the side, a soft shadow obscuring any expression that might’ve broken through. She nodded after a minute, and that was the end of it for now. He stood, leaning against his weight against his cane. The walk from the river to this safe house had been difficult on him, he’d had to carry Inej and his cane in his arms, forcing each step. He would feel it tomorrow, most likely, but he did not regret it. He walked to the desk on the other side of the room, pulling out some crackers and a waterskin. He handed them to her in silence, watching as she tentatively bit into the cracker, chewing slowly. She was already small to begin with, looking at her and seeing so much less caused a little worry to nag at the back of his mind. He pushed it aside, she would be alright.
“Rest.” he said finally. “We’ll meet the others in a bit. For now, just rest.”