Chapter Text
Wylan's breath hitched when he saw the letter.
Sticking out of the front door of the Slat, it had clearly been placed there mere minutes before Wylan arrived, maybe less. He grabbed it hurriedly, stuffing it under his arm as he went inside. A fire burned in the fireplace, and though Wylan tried to shake off the chill from the misty Ketterdam streets, it clung to him so tightly that he was forced to reconcile that the prickling on his skin was more due to the sudden awareness that he was being watched than to the weather.
His father was watching him.
Thankfully, Wylan saw no one in the hall or on the stairs, and was able to pass into the room he shared with Jesper without incident. His hands were shaking, his breath difficult to come by. Once inside the room, he dropped his bag to the floor and sat silently on the bed, holding the letter in both hands. For a long time, he just stared at it, the Van Eck seal so familiar to him that he could have drawn it blind.
He hadn't received a letter in several months, since before joining up with Kaz and the Crows. Since before Jesper.
His heartbeat quickened. His father knew where he was-- did that mean he knew about Jesper too? Nina, Kaz... were they in danger now because of him?
No, he tried to assure himself. This had always been about him. About his failures as a son, as an heir. His father wouldn't want to involve himself with Dirtyhands unless he had to.
Would he?
Wylan wasn't sure. The problem was, he had no way of knowing what the purpose of the letters was, other than making him want to curl up into a ball and die every time he received one. Wylan had to assume they were threats, and now that his father seemed to have found him again, he could make good on those threats, if he wanted to. He could send someone to sneak into Wylan's room and strangle him while he slept--finish the job.
But this is Jesper's room, too, he remembered, and then wasn't sure if the thought was comforting or terrifying. Jesper wouldn't let anyone hurt him. But could Wylan make the same promise? Could Wylan protect Jesper, if it came to that?
He would just have to. Losing Jesper was not an option.
Even the thought made Wylan feel sick. If anything happened to his friends, it would be his fault. He should just tell them. If he told, it could all be so much easier. Jesper could read him the letters, and--
A knock sounded on the door. "Wy?" Jesper's familiar voice called from the other side. "You locked me out."
Wylan instantly thanked Ghezen that he had. "Just a minute!" he called back, shoving the letter into his bag. It would have to do until he could get back to the workshop and put it with the others. "Coming!"
When he opened the door, Jesper was leaning with one arm on the doorframe, the other arm on his hip. "What? Worried Nina's going to come steal our snacks again?" he asked.
"Huh?" Wylan asked as he stepped away from the door, still trying to tear his mind away from the letter burning a hole through his backpack.
"The door," Jesper said, stepping inside. "You locked it."
"Oh, right," Wylan said. "Habit, I guess."
For a moment, he just stood there, unsure what to do, what to say. He couldn't clear his head. He couldn't seem to remember how he talked, what he sounded like. Who was he? He felt like nobody and nothing, like a jumble of unfinished thoughts.
Jesper noticed, of course. There were few things Wylan loved more than the way Jesper cared, about everything. He was the type of person to really look at you when you spoke, and he would always ask questions, or tease you, or give you advice you didn't ask for. But at least you knew he'd listened. Life was exciting to Jesper, and Wylan envied him that, sometimes. He wished that he could simply decide to be happy--fully happy.
He'd thought he was finally on his way to that feeling. Now, he felt an inch away from tragedy.
"Hey," Jesper said, cocking his head to the side. "What's wrong?"
Wylan tried to put on a convincing smile. "Nothing," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Just tired, I think. You stayed out late."
"Well, I asked you to come, didn't I?" he said, lifting an eyebrow. "I wish you had; you're my good luck charm."
Wylan almost laughed. He felt a bit manic.
Jesper stepped closer. "Okay, you look like you might suddenly heave your dinner all over the carpet. Should I move my new shoes out of the area of impact? I can go get Nina."
"No," Wylan said, reaching out to touch Jesper's shirtfront, and then pulling him in the rest of the way. "No, don't go." And then, because he worried that he was being too obvious about his fears, he added, "You just got back. Come to bed with me."
It did the trick. Jesper wrapped his arms tight around him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Wylan closed his eyes, a million thoughts racing just underneath the burn of Jesper's lips.
"You don't have to ask me twice," Jesper said, and Wylan squeezed him a little tighter.