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They had each other.
Standing vigil at their father's bedside, the two boys watched on as their father, badly torn asunder by the plow in several places, lay still enough to be stone under his golden and maroon blanket. Kaz thought he looked almost peaceful, something he couldn't remember his father ever being.
The Most Reverend Magnus Johannus Rietveld, or as Jordie and Kaz knew him, Da, was a busy man. There had always been something brewing in his father's mind. It may have been the coming week's sermon, it may have been a wedding or impending funeral he knew he would be presiding over. Most of the time, Kaz surmised, it was how to keep the family farm afloat.
Drought had scorched their fields the previous year, which meant winter had been hard and Da had been forced to take a loan out in order to keep up everything at home. The chickens were sold at markets but rarely bought, the sheep hid in the wooded area beyond the farm whenever it came time for shearing. The two plough horses, oblivious to the harm they'd now done, had been necessary to keep things moving. Hopje, Kaz's favorite horse, had been too stubborn whenever Da had attempted to sell her off and always returned home.
Da had been stuck in his ways when it came to running the farm. Jordie told Kaz that Ma and Da had always done the farm work together. So farm chores reminded him of Ma. The Ma Kaz never knew, who had died when he was born.The death that Kaz always felt Da and Jordie blamed him for. They didn't say it, not to his face. But every year on Kaz's birthday, he could see the sadness in their eyes. Their smiles weren't quite full.
It almost always snowed that day, but Jordie never wanted to play outside. And Kaz wasn't allowed in the snow without Jordie after he'd gotten frostbite and hypothermia one too many times. Kaz loved the snow, and loved playing outside in the blinding white that would cover the farmland, but he'd had a few too many "you'll catch your death" moments for Da to allow him out on his own. But when it snowed on Kaz's birthday? It was Kaz's favorite. It was like a bonus gift. Yet every year without fail, Jordie and Da would find some excuse to stay indoors. Da would tell them stories of Ghezen's Great Works until he bored himself to sleep. Jordie would quietly read his own books in their shared bedroom, which left Kaz, the birthday boy, by himself with nothing but energy to burn.
Kaz hated his birthdays.
It was something Kaz had never truly outgrown. Hating his birthdays. These days he simply left Ketterdam for the day, returning home to the farm to visit Ma. To wallow in his own unearned guilt. Anika had a handle on the clubs, Jesper rarely visited anymore, Wylan was trying to lessen those visits even further, and Inej was away at sea. No one noticed Kaz Brekker disappearing one day out of the year, or Kaz Rietveld returning home on the same day every year. Kaz was invisible to the world on his birthday.
He felt invisible then too. As Deacon Reginald read his father's last rights and blessings. As the medik told Jordie there was nothing left to do, and looked at Kaz with a pitiful frown. Kaz's whole world had grown enormously bigger that night, and he had shrunk in on himself because of it. He held onto Jordie, wrapping both his arms around one of Jordie's and leaned his head on his big brother's shoulder. Except Kaz wasn't quite tall enough for that yet, so his temple rested awkwardly against the edge of Jordie's jacket.
Kaz had a panic attack then, he knew it. Silently, Kaz stared forward as he saw his father lying in state, lit only by candles spread throughout the room as sparsely as could be afforded. His legs tightened first, freezing him to this spot on the floor beside Jordie. Kaz couldn't open his mouth, he noticed next. His jaw clenched shut and lips sealed before them. He couldn't hear the medik use the wrong terms in reference to Kaz, and Jordie swiftly correcting them. He had barely blinked. The world without Da was terrifying. The very idea of leaving home-where would they even go? What would happen to the farm? To Hopje? To Ma's garden? What about Jordie's maps and drawings? And Kaz's shiny rock collection? There was no certainty of anything, not anymore.
As the medik left, and the Deacon stood vigil beside Da's bed, Jordie must have felt Kaz's grip tense up as he froze in place. He didn't turn his head to face him, Jordie had guessed correctly now was not the time for eye contact, but he squeezed Kaz's hand gently in acknowledgement.
"In and out, Kaz." Jordie whispered through gritted teeth, trying to be as subtle as he was solemn, "Breathe, Kazzie."
Jordie's approach to Kaz's anxiety had always been headstrong, very blunt but still caring. Kaz had explained to Jordie what happened one day while they were hiding in the treehouse to avoid cleaning out the chicken coop. Jordie, holding one of his more favored books and Kaz, playing with a miniature figure of a horse to distract himself enough to focus.
"I forget almost everything else." Kaz had explained, "Even breathing sometimes which makes it worse."
"Would someone reminding you to breathe help?"
Kaz shrugged, unamused, "Probably."