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He was drowning, he could feel his lungs filling with water and seeping into his skin, overtaking him. He didn’t realize how easy it was to drown before it actually happened.
Wylan wanted to thrash, he wanted to fight, move his muscles. His joints groaned like rusty hinges, as if the bones were waiting to pop out. His throat burned like nothing else he’d ever felt before. He willed himself to keep his breath inside him, to keep going, as he weakly kicked out from underneath.
The scene blurred and shimmered, like water passing over Wylan’s eyes. He was in the dark. He braced himself automatically, as he had done many times before.
The little chapel off the Church of Barter. He was there. Again. A rushing came in his ears, but the world was still dark.
‘Every time I think you cannot disappoint me further, you prove me wrong.’
Wylan’s mind was in a million places at once.
Sitting bound and gagged in front of his father in the chapel.
Hiding in the pantry curled up in a ball.
Sketching under the covers in his bedroom.
Leaning against the wet bricks of the underside of the bridge, wet from the canal.
Sitting in front of his mother with her hand on his cheek.
‘Van Eck,’ he heard her voice whisper.
Images flickered before his eyes and they were all too much, folding over each other, the memories blurring into one big scribble of darkness and monstrous evil, making Wylan’s skin crawl with a thousand insects.
His throat closed up and his blood ran cold. An inexplicable feeling passed over him and he stopped.
He wanted to disappear. For people to forget him.
Forget him as he hid under tables, in window seats with curtains drawn, in his closet.
The memories screamed at him like static. He breathed in deeply. It was a mistake.
Wylan’s eyes shot open. For a moment, he was numb, but then the muscles all over his body clenched with panic, and a sharp jolt of pain hit him in the side and in the face. It was still dark, dark like the Ketterdam waters, and the pain that had gone through him only helped to further instill the belief that he was in danger.
He remembered the fingernails, the sharp and dirty fingernails that only took a few seconds to steal the breath from his lungs when the fingers closed over his throat. In his panic, Wylan brought his hands quickly to his throat as he sat up.
He cried out. The feeling of squeezing and a red hot ache suddenly started in his stomach again. He was being hit, he was going to die, but he needed to stay strong for the job, so that everyone could finally be happy with him.
Wylan’s hands splayed out on the surface that he was laid down on, feeling that it was quite soft and squishy as he wrenched his hands in the sheets, pulling as he leant his head back. He wanted to breathe, he really did, but the pain was unbearable, the feeling of his ribs rising and falling felt like they were being clamped down. It felt like there was a monster on top of him, its jaws sinking so far into his flesh it went to the bones. But the pain grounded him a little. It was dull, and not as sharp as it had been a few days ago.
Blinking, Wylan’s eyes adjusted to the dark, and he could see shapes. He braced for something, as if one of the shapes was a person watching him. There was a small light pouring in from behind the curtains, and it wasn’t enough to illuminate the whole bedroom, but it didn’t calm Wylan down when he finally realized where he was. He told himself to breathe, that he wasn’t drowning, he was actually in his own home that he could be inside. Jesper had assured him many times that he deserved to be there. He just wasn’t convinced sometimes.
His breath came through in hiccups, his chest shuddering over and over, and even though he told himself that the panic would subside at some point, it didn’t feel like it would ever end. The pain was relentless, and it didn’t help that in order to breathe as he was breathing, his ribs would have to expand. They felt like they were being pushed to their limits.
Wylan couldn’t take it, and he was suddenly aware more than ever of how alone he was.
When Jesper had moved into the mansion, Wylan had wanted to be in a room by himself for the first night, even though Jesper had offered to stay with him. He told himself he didn’t need some kind of nursemaid for his injuries, that after everything had happened, he was strong now, and didn’t need anyone to make him feel as weak as he’d felt back on that ship.
Jesper was in a room down the hall, Wylan knew that, and guilt sparked in his chest. Night after night, Jesper had asked him carefully and tactfully if he needed him to stay with him in his room. And taking it as some sort of insult, Wylan refused. It wasn’t like they weren’t intimate with each other, they shared stolen kisses in the mornings and when they went off to bed, and Wylan was grateful for that, for Jesper taking it slow with him. But he knew that Jesper wanted something more.
Wylan pulled himself up so that he sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor. He rocked himself back and forth as the pain throbbed like an alarm.
He had two sides of his mind, with one telling him that he should go back to sleep, no matter how hard of a task that seemed. It was the same side that told him to get over what had happened, that he was a mercher now, one of the youngest ones, and he didn’t have time for distraction.
The other side of his mind was the one that turned his eyes towards the door of the bedroom. His chest expanded and deflated over and over. Wylan squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself not to give in. It would be humiliating, he told himself, to ask for Jesper’s help after refusing it for two weeks.
Wylan sighed, and slowly attempted to get back under the sheets, pulling them over himself. The pain was too great, it felt like even the slightest of movements would crack his ribs even more. Wincing, Wylan lifted his nightshirt slowly to look at any damage.
The bandages that had been wrapped tightly around his torso were slightly rust-coloured. Wylan always grimaced at the embarrassing memory of Jesper having to reapply his bandages every single night, trying to distract him with flirtatious conversations. After he’d done that, Jesper would spoon-feed him some sort of remedy that tasted like sewage and had the consistency of syrup, and Wylan always wanted to throw it back up. Though he had to admit, it always helped his pain. But it didn’t last.
He pressed the palms of his hands onto the mattress and bit down on his lip as he pulled himself up. Swaying a little, Wylan walked to the door, clutching his side gently. He wasn’t sure why it hurt to walk, technically it had nothing to do with his ribs, but it just felt like every single action he took now was made with some pain.
Then he was in the hallway. Wylan kept his head down as he stumbled along, and he felt his breath quicken with every slight sound. He couldn’t resist turning around to look behind him, expecting to see a figure staring from the darkness. But there was nothing but carpeted corridors and paintings. The nightmare flashed through his mind, and Wylan cried out quietly from the pain that tensing his muscles brought on.
Then he walked at a quicker pace, feeling like the whole world was going to fold in on itself so the only things left were Wylan and the scribble of memories that had haunted his dreams. He stumbled against the wall just near to Jesper’s room, trying to catch his breath.
He couldn’t deny the fact he needed him. He needed Jesper’s lovely baritone and soothing voice to tell him, to assure him that nothing was out there anymore. When he was younger, Wylan used to wrap his own arms around himself, wishing that someone else could do it for him, but now, when he finally had Jesper, he refused it.
Wylan shut his eyes as he turned the handle, the other hand still hovering over his side. The door creaked slightly on the hinges and the room gave way to darkness, but he could see the outline of a little lump underneath the blankets. Stepping in, Wylan shut the door as quietly as he could.
The rhythm of Jesper’s breathing was slow and steady, and Wylan listened to it like a mantra, trying his best to match it.
He stepped lightly over to the bed and debated touching Jesper on the arm, but hesitated and sat down on the other side instead, with his back to him. The pain was in full swing, feeling like he could break apart like a twig at any second. It didn’t help that his breath was still heavy, making his ribs rise and fall painfully.
Listen to Jesper’s breathing, Wylan told himself. He smiled at the sound of him. The movement of the sheets let him know someone was there. There for him.
There came a sound of sharp rustling. ‘Wy?’ Jesper mumbled. Wylan started, his muscles tensing, and the mere action was enough to make him whimper in pain. ‘Wylan?’ Jesper said again, sitting up a bit.
Wylan couldn’t help but turn his head, before feeling his eyes burn a little as Jesper’s face was suddenly illuminated by the dull glow of a candle. He put the candlelight back on the nightstand and made his way closer to Wylan, whose throat had now tightened.
Jesper cared. He really cared.
Wylan turned around again, not wanting Jesper to see the tears that had begun to well up. He felt a gentle hand on his back, slowly making its way up to his shoulder.
‘Wylan?’ Jesper said one last time. ‘Are you alright?’ Wylan couldn’t help turning his head, conscious of how unsteady his breathing still looked. Jesper’s eyes were tired, but they were ridden with the concern that Wylan often mistook for pity.
He took a shaky breath, and Jesper brought him closer to him carefully. Wylan had sometimes said to himself that he didn’t like how Jesper treated him when he was injured, that he wasn’t made of glass. But his heart ached for it, for the caring touches.
‘Hey…’ Jesper whispered, the soothing voice coming back to Wylan. He couldn’t resist leaning his head against Jesper’s chest, yearning for the comfort of it. ‘This is a surprise.’
Wylan sniffed and nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t…’ He trailed off, feeling as if every word would turn to sobs.
‘No, no, none of that,’ Jesper said softly, bringing his hand to Wylan’s hair. Wylan leaned further into his chest as Jesper’s other arm wrapped around him, pulling him carefully closer. ‘Shh, you can't do what, Wy?’
Jesper’s chin placed itself on the top of Wylan’s head. Suddenly, Wylan had the desire for Jesper to tilt his head down so his lips touched him there. To his surprise, he got his wish, as Jesper kissed him lightly on the crown of his head.
His breathing was still unsteady, coming through his nose in short bursts. ‘I can’t… sleep.’
Jesper rubbed his shoulder. ‘Is it hurting, Wylan?’
Wylan waited for a moment before nodding, making a small ‘mhm’ sound into Jesper’s chest.
‘Okay, don’t worry,’ he said as he took his arms off Wylan, making him miss the contact. He took something off the nightstand and when Jesper came back to him, Wylan saw it was the pain remedy. He groaned a little when he saw it.
‘I know,’ Jesper said, opening it. ‘I can’t have you in pain, though, Wy.’
Wylan kept silent, feeling his heart warm at Jesper’s voice and kind words, and let him spoon the disgusting syrup into his mouth again. Swallowing it felt nails down a chalkboard, but at least Jesper had held his hand on his back, comforting him. ‘That’s it, that’s good.’
Wylan listened to the words of praise and leant his head on Jesper’s shoulder, his mouth ridden with the aftertaste of the medicine, his lungs feeling like they could burst any second. Why wasn’t he calming down? Why wasn’t he calming down? Why?
‘C-can I sleep in here, Jes? With you?’ Wylan winced, hoping Jesper wouldn’t make one of his comments.
‘Of course,’ he breathed. Wylan nodded and let out a sigh of relief, but the breathing didn’t stop there, hiccuping its way out of him.
‘Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ Jesper whispered as soon as Wylan realized his breathing had somehow gotten even faster. He brought Wylan into his arms after putting the medicine away and slowly laid him down. He covered them with the covers up to their shoulders. Wylan was shaking.
‘You need to sleep, let your ribs heal,’ Jesper said, before hesitantly lifting his hand to the back of Wylan’s head again.
‘I… it’s just hard, Jes,’ Wylan replied, mumbling into his shirt, feeling some tears come forwards. He felt pathetic.
‘I know, but once the medicine starts working it’s magic, you’ll be good to go.’ Wylan sniffed at that, and felt his heart wrench, but his breathing slowed.
‘No… you don’t understand,’ Wylan whispered, burrowing his face deeper so he wouldn’t have to look at Jesper when he said, ‘It’s the… it’s the nightmares.’
He felt Jesper stiffen a little before the hand at the back of his head stroked down to his jaw and then his cheek. ‘It’s over now, Wylan. It’s okay, we’re okay.’
‘I know, you don’t need to tell me,’ Wylan grumbled, leaning back so he could look at the ceiling. He did need it. He needed to know that he wasn’t back in his house because he was in trouble, but because he had won. ‘I know the nightmares aren’t real, I’m not an idiot,’ he said, but he still sniffled wetly. Jesper turned to him to say something but Wylan let out a small sob, not being able to help it. He sniffed, once and then again, and realized too late that he had started to cry.
To Wylan his tears were cold. The room was warm, but still he shivered as if he was in the presence of the ghosts of his memories. He could feel them.
They whispered, hiding in shadows and beneath that bed, waiting for him to relax so they could grab him and choke the life out of him. His throat felt tight, although he didn't bawl or sob. It was just an ache, and he didn't like it, but he had no say in the matter and so was stuck to feel it.
He felt a hand cup his face from the other side of the bed, and his face screwed up in pain. ‘It’s okay.’
Wylan shook his head, feeling the lump in his throat grow inexplicably. ‘It’s not okay, Jes. I can’t- I can’t stay here. It feels like I’m back.’
‘Back?’
‘I’m back to being that really… weak, sensitive little pathetic child. I can’t do this,’ Wylan said before he took a deep breath in to keep him from crying. It hurt his ribs, but the pain wasn’t as sharp as before.
I was never meant to come home, he thought . I do not belong here.
He also thought, I really want to go to sleep.
Tears began in his eyes, pooling over the line of his lash faster than he could blink them away. For a long moment he didn’t wipe his eyes because exhaustion had truly gripped him and his arms wouldn’t move when he told them to. Then he remembered where he was and who he was with and, startled back into mortification, his hands flew to scrub at the tears.
‘Sorry,’ he gasps, ‘I don’t—‘
But Jesper hugged him, brought him into his arms as caringly as he could, somehow making it so Wylan’s ribs didn’t hurt. It was too quick for him to resist. He didn’t want to anyway.
Wylan gasped, startled for a moment, but too tired to move away. Or, more accurately, too eager to stay right where he was. He never wanted Jesper to stop hugging him. He certainly didn’t want Jesper to tell him to go back to his own bed. Truly, Wylan didn’t want Jesper to see him cry or feel his body shaking with little sobs but he wanted to cry and he wanted Jesper with him. Strangely, he felt safe.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ Jesper whispered, his voice low and Wylan found he couldn’t argue with that. He found himself believing him. He sniffed and breathed out, letting Jesper dry the last of his tears.
But when the hug ended and they looked back at each other, a voice, a large booming voice in his head told him: Inadequate. Worthless. The walls were talking to him, as they had seen him as a child crying in his room, they had seen him being screamed at by his father, they had seen him cower away countless times.
He was crying again before he realized it, suddenly mortified as soon as he understood. Jesper’s face contorted into a look of pure pain and Wylan tried to stop, he really did but—
‘Oh Wy, darling,’ Jesper quietly said, voice soft and kind and the only thing that Wylan needed to hear.
It broke him into pieces.
He sobbed and sobbed, curling onto his side then crying harder because each heave of his chest made his fractured ribs scream in pain. Why hadn’t the painkiller worked yet? It just made it worse as he questioned it. Jesper shuffled, wrapping arms around Wylan’s aching body before Wylan even needed to ask.
The life of a Barrel rat was never for him but he wasn’t sure the life of a mercher was either. It was horribly terrible to be sixteen, to be bereaved and afraid, but he had hoped that it wouldn’t be too much to ask to be a sixteen year old that knew something for certain. Anything — he wished he knew anything. But he was lost, set adrift in this house that had never loved him and had never been kind. All he knew was that he was in such a tremendous amount of pain, physical or mental, and he was lonely and scared, too tired to make sense of anything anymore. All he knew was he wanted to sleep, and wake up to a new world where the answers were at his fingertips. All he knew was he yearned for life to feel easy.
All he knew was, Jesper was holding him while he cried.
Jesper didn’t speak. He didn’t press further or pressure Wylan. He didn’t even ask Wylan why he was crying again. His father used to, when he saw tears shining in Wylan’s eyes. Ghezen’s hand, what now? You’ll have to grow up one day, Wylan . But Jesper didn’t say a word. He just held him, running a hand slowly, comfortingly, up and down his trembling back.
No one else in the house, whether it was his mother or a servant, was likely to hear him, but that was a thought that came with comfort. No one would bear witness to his weakness except Jesper, and Wylan trusted Jesper. He felt safe with Jesper. He felt so much and needed so much and Jesper was here, holding him through it.
This time Wylan cried far longer than before, like the dam was well and truly broken and a long sob was all but inevitable. His body shook and the pain kept making him cry harder, but Jesper’s arms didn’t move from their place around him. There would definitely be snot and tears on the pillow below him, and probably on Jesper, but Wylan was too busy crying to care. All he knew was that life was hard, his whole body hurt, and that the nightmares would be over. He was safe with Jesper, and being held as he cried.
After many minutes, or even hours it felt like, Wylan’s tears slowed. First the shaking eased, then his muffled sobbing quietened, then his eyes stopped trying to drown them both in sorrowful agony. He took a shuddering breath, but didn’t wipe his eyes. Jesper was running his finger in circles along his back, and Wylan liked it.
Jesper let Wylan be the first person to speak out of the two of them, which he was extremely thankful for. ‘I’m sorry.’
Jesper furrowed his brow with concern. ‘What— Wylan, you have nothing to be sorry about. You are banned from saying that word.’
‘But—‘
‘No, I don’t wanna hear it,’ Jesper whispered, leaning close to Wylan’s face and grinning against his cheek.
Please, just kiss me, thought Wylan, and before he knew it, he had placed his own hand on Jesper’s face, stroking slightly.
‘Fine,’ Wylan said, letting out a shaky breath. ‘Just— as long as you kiss me,’ he quickly mumbled.
Jesper looked at him, one eyebrow raised. ‘What was that?’ His smile was infectious, and Wylan felt a swelling in his chest that seemed suspiciously like happiness.
‘You heard me,’ Wylan muttered, looking down at his hands when he felt himself blushing. His breath hitched when he felt a hand on his chin, lifting his face. Jesper’s lips were close to his all of a sudden, and even though they had kissed before quite a lot, Wylan could hardly believe it was happening.
The kiss was soft and sweet, and Wylan detected no hint of regret, nothing except the security he had always craved in life. He melted into it, bringing his hand to the back of Jesper’s neck so that the kiss deepened, as Jesper’s graceful fingers went to his cheek again. This was what he wanted, this was the answer he needed. To stay here was all he needed, too.
When they stopped, Jesper kept his hand on Wylan’s cheek, stroking his under eye while their foreheads pressed against each other’s. Wylan hummed. ‘You’re so good to me.’
Jesper let out a breathy laugh before kissing the side of Wylan’s mouth a couple times. ‘Don’t mention it, merchling.’ They lay there for a moment, heads on pillows before Jesper brought Wylan properly into his arms, slowly and steadily. ‘Does it still hurt?’
Wylan sighed and breathed in and out to test the waters. ‘Only a little.’ He found himself laughing all of a sudden, giggling quietly to himself, nuzzling further into the home that he’d made out of Jesper’s arms.
‘What’s so funny?’ Jesper asked, and Wylan heard the smile in his voice.
‘What was in that medicine?’ Wylan asked, his voice slurring a little. ‘Mm, feels good.’
Jesper laughed a little louder, before kissing Wylan again on the cheek, making him heat exactly where he placed it. ‘I don’t know, but it always makes you loopy and very cute.’
Wylan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, laughing on the end of it. ‘Kiss me again, please.’
Jesper grinned. ‘Okay, but I just wanna say something fir—‘
‘ Please? ’ Wylan blinked at him, feeling the effects of the drowsy remedy, as his eyes slightly shut a little.
Jesper put his lips to his once, and Wylan laid into the pillows, sinking into them with a cheeky smile on his face. His words went a little garbled as he relaxed, keeping his hand rested on Jesper’s face clumsily, ‘You’re such a good kisser. And- and you’re very pretty.’
‘Well thank you, darl—‘
‘What didja wanna say to me?’ Wylan asked, his eyes closed now, and he swore he’d never be able to open them again, he felt so exhausted.
Jesper took a deep breath. ‘Just— um…’ He caught himself and began to stroke Wylan’s forehead. ‘Are you sleepy?’
Wylan nodded his head into the pillow with a small ‘mhm’ sound, pulling Jesper weakly by the nightshirt until he fell back down next to him. He curled up into Jesper’s arms comfortably. Jesper leaned down and kissed his forehead.
Just as Wylan felt himself falling into the most blissful sleep of his life, he heard a soft, ‘I love you so much.’
It took all of his leftover energy, but Wylan managed: ‘Love you.’
Then a deep breath before a: ‘Too.’