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KAZ BREKKER
The battle dragged on, and Kaz was growing tired.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched over Jordie. He was very much still upset with Jordie and while Jordie no longer seemed to feel the same, he couldn’t let go of the fact that Jordie just gave up on him.
He watched over Jordie as he fought, which meant he saw the exact moment the blaster bolt hit Jordie square in the chest.
Kaz screamed and ran to Jordie. He was so angry, Jordie was leaving him again despite what he’d said and everything was moving in slow motion.
Jordie lay on the ground where he fell, and, propping himself up, covered his mouth with his hand. Coughed. Once. Twice. Three times. He stilled, falling backward. Eyes still open. His hand fell away from his mouth. Red.
It covered his hand. Dribbled out of his mouth.
He inhaled. Exhaled. Blinked.
Kaz rushed over to Jordie’s side. Pushing down his revulsion, he glared at his brother Jordie.
“Jordie?” Embarrassingly, his voice quavered. Why did his voice quaver?
Jordie had been fine not moments ago.
With difficulty, Jordie’s eyes fixated on him.
Jordie’s blood stained both their clothes, and Kaz couldn’t help but feel repulsed that Jordie was leaving him again in such a disgusting manner. Kaz would NOT let this repeat itself, he would NOT let Jordie “die” again, and he would NOT cry over this. The only thing that made it out of Kaz’s mouth was a bitter scoff. Of course Jordie got to die, got to go the easy way. AGAIN.
Why did he feel so jealous? Why did he feel so much longing towards a dead man he care?
Maybe, in the crevices of his mind, Kaz already knew. He’d spent so long grieving the brother he’d sworn to avenge. In the end, his brother just couldn’t seem to put in enough effort to stay. He told himself he didn’t care, maybe he did the first time, but it’s happened again, he’s seen this before, and knew he could do nothing and neither could Jordie. So he said, hoping, at least, his brother died remembering that Kaz understood now, “Sleep Jordie, I understand, I might not forgive you, but I understand.”
He blinked. Inhaled. Exhaled. The breaths were shallow.
Kaz waited for Jordie to blink once more.
He didn’t.
He was still staring at Kaz, who smiled weakly.
He breathed slightly. Inhaled. Exhaled.
Was he imagining it? Or was Jordie breathing more and more shallowly? Why wouldn’t he be, he was dying?
He inhaled. Exhaled the smallest puff of air.
His eyes began to glaze over.
Kaz wanted to do something — scream, cry, beg the entity to save Jordie — but something rooted him in place. Maybe it was the realization that Jordie didn’t want to abandon him and he’d pushed him away.
He watched as the light left his brother’s eyes.
He watched as Jordie’s body stilled.
Something wet dripped onto Kaz’s hand. Tears.
Was he crying? He didn’t know he still could, but maybe it was fitting that it was over Jordie. Again…
Faintly, he saw Inej notice him, hunched over Jordie’s broken body. He heard her call his name and begin trying to make her way to him.
And when Inej arrived, Kaz stood abruptly and took up a blaster and his cane and avenged Jordie.
For the second time. Why did Jordie have to keep leaving him?
He fought viciously, savagely, with the entity at his back. He fought like a man possessed. And maybe he was. He let everything consume him, it was what he knew best after all.
It had taken time to get used to the presence of an unseen force, but Kaz had found a kind of peace with the voice if only Jordie could take that role. It insisted on protecting him when he insisted he did not need protection if only Jordie hadn’t been so weak, and it whispered to him at the most inopportune of times just like Jordie, why’d he have to come back. It had terrified him as a young boy who had just shed his past into the watery depths. But now he trusted the voice, relied on it even if only Jordie was the same. The entity would listen to his requests sometimes too if only Jordie did too, masking him and his crows by suggesting others turned their heads. It gave him insight on which buttons to press to annoy the merchers if only Jordie knew how.
So when the haze of anger cleared and Kaz saw the fighting was nearly over, the pain finally fully registered, and Kaz broke.
Sank to the ground.
And just stared.
Processing.
On a field of white armored bodies bleeding red onto the grass. The lawn pockmarked by blaster fire. Other bodies, clothed in colorful kefta that couldn’t block blaster bolts from gunships, couldn’t save their Grisha from the bombers.
In the corners of his vision, Kaz saw Inej join him on the ground and held him tightly as his body shook with silent tears.
Kaz never got the chance to talk with Jordie properly.
He never got the chance to forgive him.
And he never would.