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Wylan realizes something is off while he is still fiddling with the wires of the bomb he has propped up in front of him on the window sill. He‘s up on the first floor of the warehouse, a few streets from the harbor, and the rest of the Crows and a few other Dregs are supposedly in position below him on the ground floor while he works. Supposedly.
His fingers twitch as they fumble the last wire into place and he listens to the commotion coming from somewhere behind him. A shot rings out, and Wylan jumps. He pushes down the latch of his contraption and lays out the fuze to the side. Behind him, he hears the remnants of a struggle and more grunting.
He stumbles to his feet, fighting the urge to shoot an assessing look over his shoulder to find out what is going on and pushes his back against a wall on the far right. Finally, he gets a view of the situation unfolding across from him on the landing. A small figure is fighting two larger ones, another rumpled body is lying on the floor a little closer to Wylan. The small figure drives the knives in either hand into the stomach of one of the attackers, and with a well-placed knee to the groin of the last opponent, sends both of them to the floor in agony. The fighter stalks towards him, and Wylan shrinks into the shadows as best as he can, hoping he can remain undetected.
„Wylan?“, the petite frame hisses, and Wylan exhales in relief. He steps forward, and Inej‘s eyes immediately snap to him. She hurries over to him on silent feet.
„What are you doing here? I thought you were going to give me the signal.“
„Change of plans, someone snitched. They know we‘re here. We have to get out now. Jesper and Nina are already handling the fight outside.“, Inej‘s eyes are hard and dark and it makes Wylan shiver. „O-okay, but we can still detonate the bomb. It‘s ready and we‘ll hit them anyways and cause a distraction for the others.“
Inej scoffs, but Wylan can tell she agrees. „Inej, you go ahead, help the others, I‘ll light the fuse and get out through there.“, he points to the window at the other end of the hallway. It‘s not like he hasn‘t done something reckless like this before. It‘s not even the first time he‘s done this on a job this month. The Barrel has well and truly corrupted him, he thinks to himself.
His friend regards him for a moment, then nodds. A small gloved hand reaches out and lightly pats his cheek. „Be safe, I‘ll see you at the Club, okay?“
Wylan gives her a reassuring smile and watches her quickly dart down the stairs and out of sight. He dries his clammy hands on his dusty trousers and exhales, before making his way back to the fuze. He can hear the fight outside on the other end of the building. Grunting, feet hitting the ground in a hurry, a crash through what he can only assume is another window.
His mind zeroes in on the task at hand. He manages to lead the fuze toward the window, then crawls up to it to investigate his escape route. The glass panels are easily latched open, and there‘s a rain pipe just off to the left. The street below is empty, the fight must have drawn everyone to the front side of the building. Perfect.
Wylan turns back, sliding matches from his stachel and taking a deep breath. He‘d engineered this bomb so that it would set off a smaller explosion on the ground floor before blowing up the whole building shortly after, to give the Dregs a chance to evacuate before the warehouse goes up in flames. He just hopes they‘ll still take their cue.
His fingers shake slightly as he lights the match and sets the flame down on the fuze, and the second it takes, he bolts to the window and squeezes outside.
He‘s halfway down the rain pipe when the first explosion shakes the building and rattles the wall he‘s still climbing down hastily. He can hear people screaming in confusion in the distance, but concentrates on getting off this wall immediately. His hands loosen their grip on the rounded metal and he slides down towards the ground clumsily. His feet hit the ground a little too fast and he yelps at the sudden pain shooting up his right leg all the way to his hip. He staggers off the wall, trying to right himself when he feels the cold barrel of a gun press against his temple. He freezes. Fuck.
„You‘re one of Brekker‘s crew. Bit of a scrawny one, aren‘t you?“, the man unlocks the safety of the gun and pushes it hard against the side of Wylan‘s face. His mind is trying to figure out how long he has until the building blows, it can‘t be more than a few seconds. He has to get out of here. Now.
He frantically scans the street for a way out or even a cover. There’s another alley a few meters down, leading towards the canals. It‘s for occasions like this that he always keeps loose gun powder in the pockets of his leather coat. He steels himself and hopes he can duck away from the gun in time to not get shot. It‘s not like he has much of a choice.
In a split second, he reaches into his jacket and throws up a cloud of grey dust in the general direction of his attacker. At the same time, he drops down to a crouch and bites down hard on the inside of his cheek to stifle the groan that threatens to leave his mouth at the sharp throb that the motion sends through his leg. He hears the gun fire above his head and ping off the brick walls of the building, but he‘s already moving as fast as he can towards the alley, ignoring the ringing in his ears.
Somehow, Wylan manages to launch himself around the corner just as the whole block starts to grumble. All he can do before a large boom shakes the earth beneath him is drop down onto his knees and throw his arms around his head to shelter himself from the fallout as best as he can. His leg screams in agonizing pain, but before he can react, everything crashes around him.
-
Wylan doesn‘t know how long it takes him to limp back to the Crow Club. After the explosion, he had made his way away from the site and dragged himself the long way round the hazy streets of the Barrel, trusting that most of the Dime Lions and the stadwatch would be preoccupied with the aftermath of his bomb.
The explosion itself had left him mostly unscathed, only a few minor cuts from flying glass shards and debris, but now that the adrenaline of the mission had finally subsided, the pain in his leg was becoming hard to ignore. Every time he puts weight on it, he hisses at the sharp burst of pain spreading through his ankle and calf. He hopes the others are okay.
Wylan could have cried tears of joy when he finally laid eyes on the Crow Club. It was the middle of the night at this point, the grey of Ketterdam‘s day time long gone and traded in for the dark veil of night, cloaking the streets in ominous light. He couldn‘t wait to get inside, to wash off the soot from his face, maybe even take a nice, warm bath in the tub, maybe even tucked into Jesper.
He hobbles towards the door, nodding at the guard and trying to not let his face contort in pain with every step. The guard still takes pity on him and pushes open the door so Wylan can slip inside with a resemblance of gracefullness.
The familiar buzz of the Club engulfes him immediately and he closes his eyes momentairly, grateful to have finally made it back. He really hates getting separated from the rest on missions. His eyes fly open as he registers a familiar baritone voice to his right.
„- don‘t care, Kaz, it‘s been hours and we still don‘t know if he‘s okay! He could have not made it out in time, they could have taken him, he could be dead!“, Jesper all but shouts, his hands placed on the table in front of him as he leans into Kaz‘s face. Wylan smiles, despite himself and the apparent intensity of the situation unfolding in front of him. Jesper might be the one person who hates getting separated on a job even more than he does.
Inej is sitting on the table next to Kaz, fidgeting with one of her knives in her hands. Matthias and Nina are leaning against the booth behind Jesper, Matthias‘ arm flung around Nina‘s smaller frame, her back pressed to his chest. They all look to be very much in one piece. Wylan lets out a breath he hadn‘t realized he was holding.
Wylan focuses on Jesper, the hard line of his shoulders, his hat discarded to the side and his near hysterical tone as he grills Kaz. Naturally, Kaz is entirely unimpressed by Jesper‘s antics, resting both of his hands on the head of his cane in front of him almost casually. Wylan shuffles closer.
„I would hope you had a little more faith in me these days, love.“, he says, his voice slightly strained as his foot accidentally nudges a stray chair. Five pairs of eyes immediately fly to him. Jesper fully whirls around, his face showing a quick succession of relief that Wylan is here, is alive; confusion, as he takes in the battered state of his partner‘s body and finally, concern when he sees Wylan lean heavily on a nearby table. He is at Wylan‘s side in two long strides.
Jesper’s eyes roam over his face, his torso as he hovers one hand near Wylan’s cheek and the other just above his elbow. When Wylan nods, he crushes Wylan into his chest in a desperate hug.
„I‘m so glad you‘re okay, Wy. Are you okay?“, he pulls back, and the movement makes Wylan shift his weight onto his bad leg for a second. He can‘t keep in the cry of pain this time. Jesper cringes and moves to lift Wylan‘s right arm over his shoulder so he can support him as he stands. Jesper all but lifts Wylan towards the others. Nina has already pulled free from Matthias and crouches next to Wylan‘s leg to assess the damage. Inej smiles at him apologetically from where she‘s still perched on the table next to a still impassive Kaz.
Wylan feels the hand that is tightly wrapped around his waist squeeze gently, a silent reassurance of You‘re okay, I‘m here. He turns his head into Jesper‘s chest to hide the tears threatening to spill from his eyes and exhales, trying to breathe through the pain as Nina slowly rotates his ankle in her hands. Jesper presses a soft kiss to his forehead and mumbles quietly: „It‘s okay, darling.“
The sweet words make Wylan actually cry. He hadn’t realized how much he‘d been pushing away his emotions on his way back. He couldn‘t fall apart in the middle of the street, especially not injured, so this corner of the Crow Club folded into Jesper‘s warm side would have to do.
„Oh, darling…“, Jesper murmurs into the shell of his ear, pressing him even closer to him.
„I‘m okay, I swear. It was just a lot. My leg hurts like crazy. And… I got held at gunpoint for a second? I escaped though, obviously. Is anyone else hurt?“, the words tumble from his mouth and he sniffs, wiping at his eyes.
Jesper‘s free hand comes to gently lift his chin up so Wylan meets his gaze. His grey eyes look even more stormy than usual in this light.
„Everyone‘s fine, Wy, thanks to your bomb. Breathe, you‘re fine, darling.“, Jesper kisses the wetness on his cheek ever so softly. Wylan feels his cheeks flush crimson red at the attention and unconciously shifts his weight. Huh, only a dull pain in his ankle remains, none of the almost paralyzing pain from earlier.
Nina pipes up from beside them: „Your ankle is still a little sprained, so definitely take it easy for a few days, but other than that you should be good, Wy.“ She reaches up and touches his arm. „Glad you‘re okay. And that this one can finally stop tearing the boss a new one.“ She points at Jesper and winks before sauntering off towards Matthias again.
-
It is early morning when Wylan finally, finally falls into bed. He had gotten his wish of a nice warm bath that Jesper had drawn for him after he‘d ushered him up to their shared room in the Slat. The soft light of dusk is filtering into the candle-lit room and Wylan feels tired to his bones, like he‘s lived several lives since he left the comforts of this very bed that morning.
His ankle is still a little stiff and one of the cuts on his collarbone had been deeper than anticipated and needed more care than he‘d originally thought, but other than that he felt almost relaxed now. He was wearing sleep shorts and a silken purple shirt that he had absolutely nicked from Jesper‘s drawer when he‘d gotten out of the bath a little while ago, and he was comfortably hidden beneath the blankets. Still, sleep didn‘t come to him even when he closed his eyes.
So what if he couldn’t sleep without a warm body next to him anymore. It’s not like it happened a lot these days. Jesper was a sure and steady presence at his side, both in their shenanigans with the Crows and in their private life. Wylan had never dared to dream of a relationship like he had with Jesper. It wasn‘t always easy, they both had their scars from a lifetime before they were Jesper and Wylan, and they were both stubborn to their cores. Even so, they never went to bed without the other anymore, even if there was a very pronounced distance between their bodies when they fell asleep after a fight. They would always and without fail wake up tangled up in each other the next morning anyway.
Wylan cracks his eyes open as he hears the familiar creak of the heavy wooden door to their room. His head lolls to the side as he watches Jesper toe off his shoes by the dresser, his back turned to the bed, still oblivious to the tired eyes on him.
„Jes…“, Wylan‘s voice is barely above a whisper, but Jesper still jumps, tripping over his shoes and cursing under his breath.
„Shit, Wy, you should be asleep.“, Jesper says quietly, as he pads over towards the bed. Wylan eyes the grease stained paper bag in his hand suspiciously.
„And you should be in here with me. You know I can‘t sleep without you.“, Wylan pushes his lower lip out in a pout. „What have you got there?“
Jesper chuckles fondly and climbs over Wylan to plop down on his side of the bed. He immediately wraps an arm around Wylan‘s waist und pulls him into his chest, the paper bag forgotten next to him.
„Well, while my wonderful boyfriend was washing up, I thought that after the day he‘s had I‘d get him his favorite snack to have for breakfast when he wakes up.“, Jesper hums into Wylan‘s red curls.
Wylan immediately discards Jesper‘s arm and sits up straight in bed. „Stroopwaffles from Mrs. Villing?“, he asks incredulously, reaching over Jesper‘s upper body to retrieve the bag. He takes a peek inside, and sure enough, there are warm caramelized waffles nestled within. Wylan lets out a groan and fumbles one out and into his mouth in record time. Jesper buries his fond laughter in the pillow next to him.
Still chewing on the delicious, sticky treat, Wylan leans down to press a sloppy kiss to Jesper’s temple. „You really do know the way to my heart, Jes. If I‘d known that all it takes for you to get me stroopwaffles at this hour, I would have gotten injured much-“, he doesn‘t finish his quip because Jesper claps a hand over his mouth. Wylan looks at the serious expression on his face with wide eyes.
„Don‘t joke about that. Please.“, Jesper sounds small, and Wylan feels an invisible hand take hold of his heart and squeeze. He tosses the rest of the waffles onto his bedside table and scoots down to lay on his side, mirroring Jesper‘s position across from him. He reaches for the hand Jesper has cradled to his own chest subconciously.
„Sorry. I didn‘t realize you were this worried. Want to talk about it?“, Wylan says softly, and he brings their intertwined hands to his lips. Jesper watches him, his gaze so impossibly soft it makes Wylan blush again.
„Are you comforting me when you‘re the one who limped home by himself for hours after a dodgy job?“, Jesper asks, a playful edge to his tone. He‘s deflecting, Wylan can tell. He wiggles closer to him, placing the hand he‘s still holding on his own chest where his heart is beating strongly.
„I‘m right here, love.“, he whispers into the space between them. Jesper shudders and closes his eyes, letting his head drop forwards so their foreheads touch. Wylan stays silent, just listening to Jesper‘s shaky breathing and gently caressing his knuckles with his fingers. „Love you, Jes.“, Wylan breathes out quietly after a while. He can see a smile spread out over Jesper‘s perfect lips.
„Love you, too, darling. Don‘t do that again though.“, he closes the distance between them and brushes their lips together gently, reassuringly.
Sleep does come easy after that.