Chapter Text
Night One: this is going to take a long time
He was having fun. For the first time in a long time, he was just sitting there, having fun.
It had been Inej’s idea, of course. But he hadn’t refused. And he was grateful for his own acceptance, because Inej’s smile was making it worth the first few moments of panic.
The puppy rolled onto its back, tongue lolling out of its floppy mouth.
Inej laughed.
That’s the laugh, he thought vaguely, allowing the dog to nuzzle against his gloved fingers. He scratched under its chin, the puppy’s eyes rolling back in pleasure. He almost grinned himself, and was sure he’d restrained himself until Inej said, her dark eyes gleaming, “There it is. There’s your smile.”
He sat back, looking at her softly. She was so beautiful, he thought less vaguely. And she was sitting with him, almost relaxed herself.
But still on guard, just a little, for him. Because of him.
He ignored the guilt that was rising in his throat like bile, focusing once again on the small animal that was busy tumbling over itself like a ball. “What was his name again?” he murmured, only half expecting a reply.
“Waffles,” Inej said seriously, getting him for half a second.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, letting his smile stay for a bit longer. “No, it’s not. Wylan wouldn’t let Jesper name him something food related,” he managed with certainty before Inej was laughing again.
“Are you so sure?” she giggled, then heaved a huge sigh. “Alright, it’s not Waffles. But you’ll think it’s even worse.”
He looked at her curiously, letting his guard down just a bit, trying to match hers. “I give up. What’s the dog’s name?”
“...Dazzle,” Inej whispered as if it were a deep secret.
Kaz raised an eyebrow. “Dazzle?” he asked incredulously. “Why Dazzle?”
“Because…it rhymes with…Kazzle,” she managed, avoiding his gaze now.
He was still confused. “What’s Kazzle?”
Inej bit her lip. “It’s…it’s you. Kaz. Kazzle. It’s just a nickname,” she protested against his returning frown.
“I see,” he gave up trying to assign reason to anything Jesper did.
“Are you mad?”
He looked up at her in surprise, taking in her hunched over posture. When had she shrunk back so much? “What? No, not really,” he offered. “I mean, Jesper does all sorts of strange things. I wouldn’t put it past him.” He shrugged, trying to show how not a big deal it was.
Inej looked doubtful, but she conceded by running her fingers down Dazzle’s back. Her gentle tracing on the puppy’s fur sent a flash of goosebumps down his arms.
He shifted, letting his bad leg lay at a different angle that would hopefully help ease the ache more.
“Do you think…you could try…what we talked about?”
That had been Inej, gazing at him with such concern in her eyes, he almost asked her what was wrong.
But he knew.
It was him.
“Hmmm,” he hmmmed for a moment before taking off one of his gloves.
Inej seemed to hold her breath.
He didn’t take off the left, not yet. He let the puppy’s short hair run under his fingertips. So far, so good.
He went to give the dog a scratch under its chin, holding his own breath, when the beast’s tongue decided his hand needed to be licked.
And he tried to stay. He really did. He tried sitting up straighter, the flurry of excitement that had reigned supreme the past hour vanishing in a heartbeat.
“What’s wrong?” Inej was asking, but he couldn’t answer right then.
Because the moisture sitting on his knuckles was too much. Too much. He couldn’t even move to wipe the beads of saliva off the back of his hand right now, because the ocean was swallowing him whole, gobbling him greedily into its expansive gut.
He gasped, trembling, trying to hold it together. He could hear Inej saying – something – but he couldn’t quite make out the exact words while the water roared in his ears.
Something was touching him again, something rough. Something dry. He hung onto the feeling, trying to haul himself back up again, but failing miserably. His head couldn’t keep above the waves for much longer, but he had to, he had to reach shore…
“Kaz? Kaz, it’s okay. I wiped it off, you’re okay. You’re safe. He’s gone,” she was saying in his ear.
He jolted back into his body, staring down at his shaking hand. Still bare, still exposed, but no longer wet. A slightly damp rag sat next to Inej’s knee. His glove lay in his lap.
He quickly slid the glove back on, trying to pretend nothing had happened.
But there was no fooling Inej.
“You’re okay. I’m sorry, I didn't even think about –”
“-- it’s okay. It’s…it’s fine. I didn’t think either,” he growled harshly, trying to take all the blame of being so stupid, so damn stupid –
“-- want me to leave?”
He hadn’t caught the first part of her question, but he knew the answer anyway.
“No. No. Please…please stay,” he said, roving his eyes across the length of his bedroom, searching for the dog, trying to regain consciousness again without the threat still being present.
“He’s gone. I put him outside the door. Wylan took him. He’s gone,” she repeated, sitting so far from him that it ached.
She always knew him so well, he thought numbly.
“-- me what you want me to do, I’ll do it,” she was saying now, brown eyes wide with concern.
“No, I don’t…I can’t –” he started, not sure where he was going with his own sentence until he puked all over his floor. He shuddered, wiping his mouth clean with the nearby rag, using the dry corner to press against his lips. “I – I –”
“-- you don’t have to say anything. It’s okay. I’ll clean it up. You go lay down,” she reassured him, pointing in the direction of his bed.
He looked that way, unsure if he’d be able to make it all the way across the entirety of the room. He looked back at her, wishing he knew what to say, what to do.
She seemed to realize the problem long before he’d had a chance to properly sort out his own feelings. “Or, I could clean it up while you breathe. Yes, just sit there and breathe,” she amended her statement, rising either way.
She walked away from him, her stockinged feet padding almost noiselessly against the floor paneling.
He didn’t know how long she’d been gone, or even where she’d gone, but it seemed she was back in an instant with a large towel.
He stared at her, watching her mop up his bile and vomit calmly, as if it were something she’d done a hundred times. How was she so okay with this? With him? What had he, – Dirtyhands, of all people – done to deserve her constant presence? Her smile? Her laugh, even?
She finished, setting the now vomit soaked towel into a bucket she’d miraculously pulled from…somewhere.
The smell lingered, but there wasn't much she could do about it without leaving the room for much longer.
She stayed. And stayed. And stayed.
And he didn’t know what to do with the incoming information, the data piling up in front of him.
She sat down on the floor again, crossing her legs effortlessly in front of her. “What can I do to help?”
“Stay,” he rasped. “Just…stay.”
And she did.