acatalepsy_logs

Entry tags:

closed.

Who: kaz brekker and inej gafta
Where: an inconspicuous hallway.
When: during the event.
Rating: R as it will involve a bit of gore. stabbing, insides, blood, etc.
What: it seems the ship has finally gotten to the wraith.

[ kaz brekker had, always, considered himself just on the edge of insanity. growing up and surviving in the barrel meant that you had to accept the fact that sanity would be just out of reach. you had to be able to adapt, to shift and change, to be whatever it is the barrel and ketterdam asked of you if you wanted to see the next morning. he found the things he could depend on, and trusted that the rest would constantly change and constantly move and somehow, in the smog and mud and damp streets, found his footing.

but what was going on in this ship was an entirely different animal.

something was getting to him, and the other members of the circle as well. under his skin and crawling along his veins. kaz hates it, but he recognizes it, knows what this feeling is and knows that he can - he has to - master it. he goes walking, despite the screaming pain of his leg, his grip tight and white around the crow's head of his cane. he should find inej, he knows he should, and that is the direction he begins to take.

they have to keep together if they are going to survive any of this. ]

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[ this is hell.

inej is no stranger to trauma, and she's no stranger to feeling her skin crawl. to looking over her shoulder, to hearing an imaginary voice in her ear. she's no stranger to conquering the paralyzing feeling of anxiety, of guilt, of frustration in her chest in order to get through the day. but, indeed, this is different. this feels real.

she left the bridge. a panicked walking, anxiety-ridden frustration as she needed to just get out. get away from the people, melt in with your surroundings, and leave. her magical ability to blend in is not working, her mind too scattered to focus, and so the wraith is visible . . . for once.

part of her thinks find kaz. the other part wants to be alone. to get away, to be free of people, and to ignore her demons. the feeling of invisible fingers against her arms and wrists, the whispers of voices of prior predators and captors in her ear . . . she knows it is not real, and yet she can almost smell the disgustingly floral scent of tante halene's perfume, wrapping around her neck like a noose.

she's so scattered that she doesn't recognize footsteps, in the same hall. familiar ones, accented by the tap of a cane. but she ignores it, in her quest to get out, though her steps do slow, her fingers tightening on the knife in her right hand.

prepared to fight. ]

[ the need to find inej was top priority. it pushes him forward, despite the feeling on the back of his neck, the way it all seems to be following him. he keeps moving, because if he doesn't, those whispers will catch up to him. the familiar tilt of the words, the way they carried down the hall. jordie is there, telling him it will all be fine, that he will fix all of this, because he can. he has to.

nothing can be fixed, this is just the way things are.

but jordie's voice isn't alone. he hears jakob hertzoon - the hearty laugh, the warmth of his smile. he hears the girl, his daughter, the woman, his wife. they're at dinner, he's just a child, things feel okay for the first time - he comes to a stop in the hallway and presses his fingers into his temple.

get ahold of yourself, brekker. this will not best you.

he breathes, once then twice, but the voice don't stop. familiar voices, considering just how often they come to him, memories that catch him only in the dark. he is left exposed like this, and he knows it, but he needs the second to get ahold of himself again. one second, then another, one breath, then another. it's enough time to get jumped, if this hallway were a street and if he was anywhere close to home, but he also can't move like this. can't keep going.

it's belated, that he feels the presence of someone else. a figure, just far enough in the shadows, down the hall, that he doesn't know who it is. but when he opens his eyes again, when he looks, there's a prickle of relief. ]

Wraith?

[ the voice (typically instantaneously familiar to her) means nothing. but the title does, and inej stops in her tracks, at the sound of it. wraith. that was who she was, wasn't she? the ghost in the shadows, the spider of the dregs, the wraith . . . the prized possession that the barrel bosses covet most. she was sure pekka rollins would pay a pretty penny, to have her join the lions. as if she ever would.

the wraith. the voices in her ear abruptly stop, at the sound of the word. it feels protective, an armor she puts on, to ward off against feeling weak. but her fingers curl tightly against the handle of her knife, and she hears the sickeningly sweet tone of tante halene in her ear. the wraith? my little lynx . . . ]

I have a name.

[ it's whispered to herself, fiercely, to ward off halene's taunts. her fingernails against her skin. the sting of her hand against inej's cheek, every time she cried. dehumanizing her. making her little more than an animal. and the sentence, the tiny act of (imaginary) defiance, gives her some sense of self, of purpose, and so she repeats it to herself. seemingly ignoring kaz's approach, lost in her own thoughts. ]

I have a name, and a country, and a home. I am a person.

[ the more she repeats it, the more it becomes true. but halene's voice is still ringing in her head. her list of customers for the day, how much money is she making -- ]

My name is Inej, and I belong to no one . . .

[ and she will continue repeating it to herself, as he approaches. quietly, lost in her head. seemingly talking to herself. ]

[ his voice is typically familiar to her.

that is the exact same thought he has as well, all but hissing her name across the space between them. he expected some kind of acknowledgement, or at least a shift in her body language. the same way she always tended to, when he finally caught notice of her following him. he'd been getting better at it, before they arrived here. better at knowing what silence was her's, what darkness was her's. but how long had she been standing there? waiting for him.

part of kaz wants to laugh, because it would be his fault for it. she could have already killed him, if he was a mark. if he was someone that he sent her after.

but inej doesn't react, and kaz feels a distinct settling of the air around them. he tells himself it's nothing, that those instincts of his are off because this whole ship is off, but the hair on the back of his neck stands on end, danger, and he pushes it away. it's ridiculous, because this is inej. the wraith. his wraith, who he brought into the dregs, who he helped teach. his closest ally (and friend) and the person he really, truly, trusts most. that feelings? had to be something else.

and then she speaks - i have a name - and kaz lets out a breath. she is still upset with him after the vent incident, then. he knows he should do something, should make it up to her in some way, but now really wasn't the time. that feeling of danger was still curling down his spine, and kaz glanced over his shoulder to see if there was anyone else in the hallway with them.

i have a name, and a country, and a home.

what was going on? ]

No one said otherwise.

[ kaz is....confused. but he continues towards her anyway, trying to see if there is something he is missing, if she's speaking to someone else. she is tense, taught, like a bowstring, or a predator. he's seen her like this before, knows what it means when her shoulders are pulled that tight, and he comes to a slow stop in front of her. ]

What is going on?

[ the footsteps come closer, and inej draws in a slow breath . . . preparing herself to strike. do they truly think that she's that weak? that they can just walk up to her, demand her. as if she owes them anything.

she should find kaz. he would be able to center her, and focus her. wouldn't he? she does that for him all the time. she is the reason they're still alive, if she wanted to be honest with herself. she pushes him where he needs to go, and he would do the same for her. he would calm her down, and make her see sense. kaz is real, and none of the rest of this matters. she should find him --

but footsteps settle in front of her, and her eyes snap to attention . . . but the person in front of her isn't kaz, but a man. some man. a customer of the menagerie, asking her what is going on. she was not performing fast enough. she did not shed her clothes fast enough. or, perhaps, she is crying.

and, sure enough, her eyes are full of tears, a stray one spilling out of her left eye, coursing down her cheek as she stares at kaz with an odd expression of terror, and (somewhere in there, tucked away), fury. ]

This is not real.

[ she says to herself, taking half a step backward -- furthering the distance between her, and this man. widening the gap, only by a few inches, because inej is most dangerous when they step into her personal bubble. her tone is thick with fear and frustration, the two emotions twisting together into the worst form of anxiety, her heart hammering in her chest. ]

You are not real, and I am . . . I do not belong to you, or anyone else, I am leaving this place.

[ if she says it enough, then surely it will come true.

and, if not, she will fight her way out. ]

[ the feeling on the back of his neck doesn't go away. in fact, it gets much worse - a slow tension filling his limbs, his chest, his bones. rather than it fading the closer he gets to inej, the worse it becomes. but he doesn't understand why, but he has a slow sinking suspicion he knows. he's heard of people hallucinating on this ship, seeing things that aren't there. he wonders, first, if maybe inej isn't real. if he's about to walk into some kind of trap.

but that can't be true. he trusts this much about his mind. inej is the one standing before him, tense and on edge, whispering to herself. still, he takes another step, his pace slowing considerably before he comes to a stop, and then her eyes snap ahead.

he doesn't recognize the look there. or- maybe- he does, but not in inej. not in inej looking at him. it nearly knocks him off his feet, seeing the rage, the pain, the...what? what is he even seeing? kaz bristles at it, unsure, and then he hears-

this is not real.

for a brief second, they're back in ravka. in those false memories, the circus. is this another trick? another play by the witch? kaz feels anger rolling in his gut. because it is not he who is hallucinating, but for inej to look at him like that, without any of the recognition or familiarity, shoots a painful spark through his gut. ]

Wraith- [ he just need to get her attention, to snap her back. it's the only thing he can think of, considering the way she's watching him. sizing him up. he recognizes that look from her, and it's not a good one. ]

Inej. [ his voice is rough around her name, and desperate too, though he'd never admit as much. ] Snap out of it. It's me.

Edited 2019-03-19 14:29 (UTC)

[ they never called her wraith. they called her the lynx. treating her like an animal, like some piece of property to be owned. the man approaches her, steps purposeful, predatory. her heartbeat quickens, her fingers tighten around her knife. she nearly takes another step back, but there's a voice in her ear. a new one, raspy and familiar.

instructing her on how to fight. learning how to read the other person's tells. allow them into your space, and ensure they never leave it. kaz taught her that, didn't he? so why was she so afraid of this man, now? this was her domain. she could fight, and ensure this man never harmed another girl again.

inej. he knows her name. how does he know her name? snap out of it. a command. it's me.

that voice . . . it causes her to hesitate, because it sounds familiar. it sounds like kaz, and her throat tightens. what an unfair trick . . . the boy who makes her feel safe replaced with this monstrosity -- ]

I am not afraid of you; you will never take advantage of me again. You are nothing to me.

[ it's spit out, the words forced, taking her own step forward, just within his personal space, just within striking range. within her territory. her area of expertise. her domain. tricks of the mind . . . she is going to find kaz, and he is going to get them out, and this pathetic insect of a rapist is going to move out of her way.

she was the wraith. only her saints require her to ask twice. ]

I need to find my friend. You are going to get out of my way, or I will gut you where you stand. Move.

Edited 2019-03-19 23:09 (UTC)

[ he feels like he can see hints of her when he speaks, moments where she nearly breaks through to the surface, and kaz feels the sharp heat of panic rolling in his gut. she is hallucinating. she is seeing things. and she is, by far, one of the most dangerous people on this ship. he knows this inherently, as easily and as completely as he knows that he is in part the reason she is this dangerous, and without any grasp on reality...

find a way through this, brekker. get her back.

but she does hesitate, as he speaks to her. he sees it just enough to know something happens. he doesn't move as she spits at him, her eyes dark, tight. he knows that look, but never (really) directed at him. not with that same amount of hatred, of mire. there's a reason her name has spread across all of ketterdam. ]

Inej. [ he says it again, his body taunt as his mind whirls through plans. ways he should respond. ] Inej, it's the ship. Snap out of it. [ because he can't tell her that he's never taken advantage of her, even if it's not in the same way she's spitting at him now. but he can't lie to her, so he doesn't.

as she steps towards him, aggressive and ready to attack, kaz has to put effort into keeping himself from stepping back away from her. she is powerful, a force to be reckoned with, and every single person he knows or has ever met should, in their right mind, be scared of her.

but he will not back down from this. no matter how that voice in the back of his head screams. it's inej.

so he stands, still, unreactive and watching her. she is angry, and that anger is turned on him, but he realizes now that he's not going to leave her to whatever it is she's seeing. especially not with the way his chest tightens when she says friend. it can't be him, he assumes, but he also can't be at fault for why inej ends up gutting some other helpless sap. she wouldn't be able to live with that, and he can't let her do that to herself. ]

Who? I can help. [ he won't, but if it'll keep her here... ]

[ the man does not back down, and offers help. help, to find kaz -- who will not be found unless he wants to be found. only inej can find him, and knows where he walks, and what he does. it was stupid to separate herself from him, stupid, stupid.

but as the man continues, in his disgusting rich mercher clothing, the scent of tobacco and alcohol plaguing her senses, one particularly word causes her entire frame to freeze. a sudden tension in her shoulders, her breath catching in her throat. taken aback by the very word of: ]

Help. You want to help me?

[ the word is a whisper. her fingers twitch, against the handle of her blade. but she does not strike, not yet. the wraith picks the opportune moment, to do so, and she has something to say, first. and her tone is soft, quiet, but deadly. almost crooning, in tone, the voice that inej uses when she has cornered her prey, and it is not a kind mark, but one she wants to complete. ]

Do you know how many men have promised me that? After they bought me. After they cornered me in rooms, held me down. Had me beaten afterward, because I cried, and it ruined the image. Taken advantage of me, because they justify it to themselves, every single night, that they are helping. They raped a little girl, but they paid her room and board, that night.

[ her throat tightens, at the words. harsh, rough. angry. ]

The only man who came into the Menagerie with halfway decent intentions was the one who got me out. I'm certain he'd love to kill you, but you aren't worth the dirt he walks on. And your heart is mine.

[ her fingers twitch on the handle of the blade again. her shoulders square. a coiled spring, ready to snap. ]

I will find Kaz on my own, and you are never going to hurt another little girl again.

[ and, quick as lightning, and silent as the grave, the wraith strikes. aiming right between the ribs. ]

[ it was the wrong thing to say.

kaz realizes this in the moments after, in the sharpening of her expression, the tension in her shoulders. wrong, wrong, in a moment where being wrong could cost him his life. he nearly tries to amend the statement, but understands that the damage of that moment is done. inej continues either way, her voice as sharp as her knives.

her words aren't surprising. kaz knows what it is like in the barrel, for little boys and girls alike. and while they've never spoken about it specifically, his imagination was of the type that he could put the pieces together. the way she responded to men, to tante haleen. she had been bought and sold like a thing and the mere idea of it send shivers up his spine. he couldn't, wouldn't ever be that barrel rat. nothing like the men she had to be seeing him as. but still, the words sunk deep.

the only man with halfway decent intentions. he froze at that mention. i'm certain he'd love to kill you, but you aren't worth the dirt he walks on. and your heart is mind.

it is this exact point in time that kaz brekker understood just how much danger he was in. not because he had ever, or will ever, underestimate the wraith. but because for the first time, he does not have anything between them to fall back on.

his hands lift slowly in front of him - not reaching towards her, but up. defensive. his cane still between his fingers. ]

I don’t know what you’re seeing right now, but it's me. I'm right here. You can snap out of this.

[ i will find kaz on my own.

maybe he brought this upon himself. maybe this is just karma, finally catching up to him. ]

Inej, please. [ the word is low and rough in his throat as he tries to swallow through it, fear gripping at him like it always had. clawing away at the breath in his chest.

and that is when she strikes. ]

Edited 2019-03-20 23:07 (UTC)

[ it's the sound of the knife striking against the cane, that causes the hallucination to snap.

it's a familiar sound. mostly because kaz is the one who taught inej how to fight, and kaz would deflect the blade strikes easily with his cane. the clash of metal against fabrikator steel . . . and each time, inej would get faster. deadlier. more silent. but only one thing in the world makes that noise, and it is kaz's cane.

the blade is knocked away, but finds purchase in flesh regardless. it remains there only for a moment, before it is yanked out, but her free hand finds the coat of her target. and inej is brought face to face, inches, with her assailant, but her eyes widen. pupils dilated, the sudden comprehension of who is in front of her, of who is on the receiving end of her blade. the color drains from her face, her fingers curled against kaz's wool coat. stabilizing her kill. keeping them close . . . but the hallucination is broken, now.

blood drips from her blade. but it isn't the blood of the man, it's -- ]

Kaz...?

[ it's a choked whisper, her heart hammering in her chest, and she immediately drops her knife. it clatters, the sound impossible loud on the metal floor of the ship -- the ship, they're on the ship, the ship that makes them see things, that makes them hallucinate, how could she have been so stupid --

the reality of the situation seems to crash down upon her shoulders with a thunderous roar, and she lurches forward, to support him. how could she have been so incredibly stupid? kaz, she had hurt him, of all people, of all people -- ]

No . . . no, no, no, no, I -- [ and inej immediately moves her hand, instinctively, to grip his side, to provide pressure on the wound, but her vision clouds, with the sudden appearance of tears -- useless, useless tears, and kaz is taller than she remembers, and her words are choked into silence, as she frantically puts pressure on the wound. ] I -- I thought --

[ but as the blood touches her fingers, she seems to realize that while she missed her target, she definitely found some amount of purchase, and the sob escapes before she can properly stop it. ]

I would never hurt you, I --

[ saints, what has she done? ]

[ when it happens, there are three distinct thoughts that make it through kaz's mind.

first- he wasn't fast enough.

he was fast, that much he knew. being able to use his cane to block attacks coming at him was essential for his survival in the barrel. he learned how to wield it, how to block with it, how to strike. the grisha steel did him well, and he'd become well acquainted with what the different sounds of blades striking steel. more than that, he knew what inej's knives sounded like against his cane. he taught her almost everything she knew about those blades, everything she knew about using them. it's the sound that tips him off, not fast enough, and then almost instantaneously there was the cold slip of metal through skin.

second- she missed.

there were a few factors that went into that fact. how quick his body could still respond, despite the pain in his leg. how the ship and its effects were draining on them both. that maybe, just maybe, it was the hallucinations themselves that had pulled inej just far enough to the side, away from his heart, his lung. and maybe that was luck, maybe it just wasn't his time, but the blade slipped through the fabric and skin at his side and it missed everything vital, everything important.

third- he should have been dead.

if this had been in the barrel, if this had been anyone else, if this had been any other possible moment or any other possible place, the decisions he made and the choices he went through with would have been his end. this should have been it. it should have been over. kaz brekker, the infamous dirty hands, would be dead.

at the hands of the wraith. at the hands of his own ego. at the hands of- ]

Inej- [ she recognized him, now. something about the strike must have finally shaken her of it. too late, of course, but isn't that poetic justice? isn't that how this all usually happens? he tries to laugh, but it comes out as a bark of a laugh, pain shooting through his side and up to his chest. his closest hand reaches down to the hilt of her blade, wrapping around her hand, and he feels her grip loosen and hears the blade, distantly, like he's hearing it through water.

she is reacting, he knows that, but again that knowing is also distant. like the sharp pain at his side has narrowed his perception of the world. it feels different than the other times he's been stabbed, but perhaps that has more to do with inej's killing intent than before. maybe it was the fact he had, in that half second prior, known that this was his end.

his hand moves to his side, distractedly, as his knees become weak. she must have hit a nerve, must have hit something, because he feels his strength bleed out through his fingers. his eyes are cast down at it, watching the blood seep out through his fingers and down the front of his coat. it's dark, darker than he would have thought, and he watches it curiously. he's bleeding more than he's ever seen himself bleed before, and some morbid part of him is so interested in it. ]

Ah. [ inej is crying, that is the next thing he becomes aware of, gripping his side and holding his weight. he probably should have collapsed, by now, but inej is still there. if anything, inej is still there, and there is a strange kind of safety in that. he has been in this position before, he's sure - feeling consciousness fall from him like rain off his coat sleeves. his limbs feel heavy, but he keeps to his feet. ]

Wraith. You- [ he coughs again, feeling the push of air through his entire body like a sharp wall of water. his cane falls from his hand, clattering to the ground. ] You missed. [ he shakes his head, distracted. ] You can't- can't afford to miss- the heart. This close.

Edited 2019-03-21 00:22 (UTC)

[ tears flow freely down her cheeks, as she puts pressure on the wound. and her fingers find his, once he instinctively does the same -- and for half a second, she is paralyzed with the thought that this could be it.

what if she hit an artery? he could bleed to death, here, and she would be alone. she would have killed him, the only boy that has ever remotely mattered to her, someone she cared about and defended and protected and would die for, and loved. and he was going to die, because of her.

but then, kaz speaks. in his familiar raspy voice, his bark of a laugh. she hears the relief in his tone. the familiar lilt of his tone (how had she not known it was him), and his remark. his taunt. his correction.

the stupid fucking remark is enough to snap her attention into a crystalline focus.

why would she stab him in the heart? it was kaz. arrogant, prideful, snide, armored, angry, traumatized, isolated, frustrating, protective, selfish kaz, but it was kaz. her best friend, her savior, and the only person in the barrel inej would stay in ketterdam for.

the wraith never misses. if anything -- ]

Keep pressure.

[ it's a whisper, and inej grabs his hand and presses it against his own side, her fingers slick with his blood. inej then stoops quickly, to grab her knife, shoving it into the holster at her side before she pulls kaz's arm over her shoulder, to support him fully. finally, she reaches out with her foot, edging a toe underneath the crow's head of his cane, flipping it upward with her foot to catch it with her spare hand.

they were going to get out of here, with her knives and his fucking cane, and while tears still stung her eyes, and her heart hammered in her chest, and the voices still tugged at her mind, she was now focused. she had a goal -- she had to protect him, and keep him safe.

please keep him safe, she prayed, silently, to herself.

saying it out loud would only cause kaz to mock her, and he needed to preserve his strength. ]

You are not going to die. Do you understand me?

[ find a room, find a room . . . the nearby rooms may have beds, or a table, or something for him to lay down in. somewhere private, that can be locked. he needs to lay down . . . but kaz is not going to die. not today. not ever, if she has anything to say about it. but as she takes her first few steps forward, she feels compelled to add, her voice thick, her eyes still wet: ]

I need you to stay with me.

[ it hurts, honestly but kaz knew that going into it. everything hurts in the barrel, from the air they breathed to the place where they decided to lay their heads. pain was an everyday occurrence, so much that anyone, everyone, became accustomed to it. so this? this wasn't anything surprising. and it's not like this is the first time kaz has ever been stabbed.

but something about it - inej's desperate breaths, the press of her hand at his side, the fact that these were not stones under his feet and there was no smog in the air and this was not his ketterdam, where he'd always expected to see his last day, that made it all a bit harder to wrap his head around. it wasn't some sewer rat, or some rival gang, or even someone hired by a merch to finally take him down.

it was inej. inej's knife, that he gave her. inej's hands, that he is pretty sure are still trembling somewhat under his, but he can't be sure. it could be him, his body slowly shutting down. she says keep pressure and kaz knows that, understands that, because if he keeps pressure and keeps himself from losing too much blood, he'll have a higher chance of getting through this. but still, the entire front of his shirt and coat are heavy and warm, he can still feel the blood seeping through his gloved fingers. ]

I can't believe I'm saying it- [ he coughs again, feels the blood spurt a little more directly from the wound. he's starting to feel a little dizzy, and grits his teeth to center himself. c'mon brekker. keep it together. ] But I almost wish Zenick were here to. Fix this. [ he manages to grit out through his teeth, the pain finally reaching a point that it buzzed in the back of his head, constant and loud.

and yes, he knows nina zenick would be a more complicated matter than that. the last time he'd seen her she was still below deck, about to be carted away, out cold and still barely surviving the withdrawal of parem. even if she were here, there was no telling if she'd be any help. or if anyone could be of any help. despite the fact inej definitely missed his heart, or any major organs, the amount of blood he was losing wasn't exactly a good sign for his future survival, and while inej turns and pulled his arm over her shoulder, he could feel the stretch of the tissue, the skin. there is an overwhelming nausea that overtakes him and for a moment he's out at sea, on the reaper's barge, skin against skin. his knees buckle a little, then, putting even more weight against inej.

his head is starting to spin a little, now, but he keeps walking (as much as he can) with her down the hall. ]

Interesting time...to be giving...orders.

[ there is a partial moment he tries to take a step, but the step is on his bad leg, and the searing pain makes its way through the heat at his side causing kaz to hiss. now wasn't the time for his leg to be acting up, but then again, that was generally the way. ]

[ she knows, the moment his knees suddenly buckle, that the contact is too much. and for half a moment, inej almost wonders if she can actually support him, because for as physically strong as she is, she is still tiny, in comparison to kaz. he effectively towers over her, but inej forces herself to carry the weight, gritting her teeth together as she pauses, to allow him to get his bearings.

for a moment, inej almost thinks he actually did pass out, until he continues to speak. and she forces him forward another step, trying to guide him toward the nearest door. a safe space, so he can lay down, and she can try to . . . do what, exactly? she is not nina, she cannot heal people -- ]

I am the only one you consider listening to, so someone has to do it.

[ through clenched teeth, as she forces them forward another step. she just needs to get to that door, and keep kaz awake -- a mighty task, given he's bleeding profusely and she's touching him, two dangerous things to combine if she wants to keep kaz brekker conscious. but he's talking, which means he can understand her. coherent.

and she's suddenly reminded of when she was dying . . . kaz told her to stay awake, and she had, for the most part. to petulantly argue with him.

saints, if he does die -- ignore that, inej. what is within her control? getting kaz to safety. preventing him from passing out. she cannot control the blood loss, but she can control how overwhelmed he feels . . . the feeling of touch: ]

Do not lose yourself. Focus on my voice, I cannot carry you. You can do this.

[ the advice is almost as much to herself as it is to kaz. ]

We are going to get out of here together, or not at all, because I am not leaving you here.

[ almost to the door . . . ]

Repeat back to me what I just told you.

[ he considers that statement for a moment, the words making sense, but everything else feeling a bit too weighted and a bit too loud to really understand what she means. because there's a meaning behind it all, he knows there is. i am the only one you consider listening to. she's not wrong. of all the people kaz has ever known, and probably ever will, inej would be one of the few he would consider listening to. he respects her opinions, respects her way of doing things. she's too good for the likes of the barrel, or the dreggs, or him, really. too good for all of them.

he doesn't always listen to her. he'd be a wholly different person if he followed half of what she suggested. but she's not wrong, either- he considers her words each time. even if, in the end, he can't be the man she wants for him. ]

Mmmm.

[ it comes out rough, gravely, and tilts towards a kind of groan near the end. they take another step, and it hurts. really, trully, hurts. if he'd been more in control of his thoughts, he'd probably think back on how it wasn't all that long ago that their roles were reversed. months, maybe, but not that long. he still remembers what that fear had tasted like, finding her out on the docks. how light she'd been in his arms.

( his anger, near downright hatred, that he still feels for jesper. for causing that scenario, for not being able to keep his saints-fucking mouth closed )

but there is no one else to blame, here. no one else to be angry with. no other gang, or other body, or person. he had allowed inej in as close as she was, and she had used it, seeing saints knew what when she looked at him. it is his fault for letting his guard down, for thinking he could fix whatever it was the ship was doing to her.

he takes the step. takes the next. feels the muscles and his skin under his fingers go taunt, and the sudden chill of the air. ]

What? [ what was she even saying to him? he doesn't know how far they've walked yet, despite the way he focuses on the hardness of the ground under his feet. he feels...tired. exhausted. not exactly patient enough to play games. ] You cannot carry me, which- we both knew. [ still, it is her arm around his middle. her hand around his wrist. he feels momentarily tense again, remembering, but can't keep the tension for long. it feels too much like it is his energy soaking his clothes, and each passing second takes just a bit more with it. ] It's just a stab wound, Wraith. I don't- [ he hisses, a new shooting pain nearly overtaking him as his knee buckles momentary. his body reacts, pushing himself back up, the hand he'd had against his side leaving to reach out for the wall, the blood too slick against the leather making it so that his hand slips a bit down the doorframe. he does find purchase after another moment and then his footing the moment later. ] Have time for your end talk.

[ because if kaz brekker is going to cheat death (again), it will be because he is too stubborn to allow any other option.

( nevermind the way his vision swims, or his hands shake. it doesn't matter.) ]

Open the door.

[ she immediately braces herself, as his knees buckle, and inej isn't entirely sure whether or not it's because of the blood loss or the contact . . . but kaz is talking, and even more importantly, he's being just as dismissive and grumpy as usual. he is going to be fine, inej, is the only thought that she forces to repeat in her mind. he is going to be fine.

he's telling her what to do. how pompous, but it's what inej needs to hear. kaz is being himself, and being himself involves some level of irritation and senseless demanding. he needs her to open the door, and so she shifts her weight, to get kaz settled against the wall, her hands steadying him by gripping his upper arms. ]

Stay upright -- here, lean . . . Kaz? Look at me.

[ she doesn't touch his face, to turn it -- some faint voice in her head telling her that her hands are covered in his own blood, and he is having trouble with touching now, let alone do anything else. tear-stained cheeks, red-rimmed eyes, but a pleading expression in her face, an almost desperate look in her eyes, her tone a whisper, a plead. ]

I need you to stay with me.

[ and she lets go, his cane still in hand, to begin to work on pulling open the door. it is heavy, heavy, and she hisses a curse underneath her breath in suli at the bare miniscule crack she has managed . . . useless, she needs to open it, and get him somewhere safe, so she can work on his wound in peace, and safety, away from the madness of the ship. damn it, damn it, damn it --

. . . but then she realizes she has the cane.

saints, he is never going to forgive me.

but inej doesn't spare it another thought, as she immediately wedges the cane into the crack in the door. to use it for leverage. and she positions herself appropriately, wrapping her fingers around the cane, eyeing the doorframe. if she swings her body weight, and positions her feet against it, it should provide the leverage necessary to pull it open enough to slip inside .. .

she does not have the strength for this, and she is likely going to put a nice dent in kaz's most prized possession, but she has no other option. ]

Talk to me, Kaz.

[ an order. a distraction, as she positions her foot against the doorframe, her balance perfect. ]

Stay awake, the door is almost open.

[ and then she jumps, half an inch, to swing into the doorframe, pulling back on the cane to throw her full body weight against the tiny crack in the door . . . and, sure enough, it begins to creak open. at the expense of a nice dent in kaz's priceless very expensive fabrikator steel cane, but it is opening. ]

[ he does hear her voice, in that far-off kind of way. he's going to pass out soon, he can tell that much from the signs, how his body is reacting. he recognizes them, and then thinks not yet, hold on a little bit longer. inej is talking again, but at this point it's a choice on where his attention can be kept. there is the hand gripping the wall, his legs keeping him upright, the pain in his side-

look at me

kaz jerks his attention towards her, exasperated and sharp, an unspoken there, happy now? but with an extreme lack of mirth or anger. his eyes are a bit distant, cloudy, and that most likely has to do with the way that the movement alone sends his swimming vision off-kilter.

it is apparently enough for her, because she directs her attention instead to the door, and kaz is able to return his full attention to keeping upright. to managing the way the world sways under him, the heaviness in his limbs, the back of his head. he breathes, with effort, but he breathes all the same. and once he manages that, he resituates his hands, keeping one to the wall and one back to his side, cursing at the sharp pain he feels when he presses his hand back to the wound. saints, is he still bleeding? ]

Why. [ it's a response to her telling him to talk. he's tired, extraordinarily tired, and while a part of him does understand what she's getting at and why she's doing what she's doing, it all feels. exhausting. he feels himself leaning up against the wall rather than just holding onto it, the cool pressure of the steel somehow making its way through the fabric of his coat. he's tired, so fucking tired.

and it's probably a good thing, because it keeps him from actually paying attention to what inej is doing. he actually has no real concept of how it is she's going to get the door open. just that he has absolute trust that she will. or at least, he hopes she will, as he can feels his feet start to slip a bit. ] Just get the door open, Wraith. I don't have- [ but the weight of his statement lingers in the air. i don't have much time. he alters it slightly. ] All day.

[ the words, which would ordinarily sting, or cause a sharp rebuke at being told what to do, are a relief. if kaz has the energy to be difficult, then he must not be dying yet.

he will be fine. open the door. he needs the door open.

she doesn't bother answering him, putting all of her focus and strength into trying to open the door. and it creaks open, slowly . . . but with a final yank, it seems to come free, and kaz's cane is held in front of her as she looks inside. the lights are working, and . . . somehow, miraculously, she has opened a door with a set of spare beds in it. empty, untouched. perfect.

the cane gets tossed unceremoniously inside, and inej immediately pulls kaz's arm back over her shoulders, an arm going around his waist to support him a bit more fully, this time. ]

I've got you.

[ it's murmured, moving forward toward the door. it is pulled open wide enough for them to squeeze in, with some maneuvering, and inej does her best to prevent encroaching on his space even more than she already has, but once they are inside, she immediately moves him toward the bed, to have him sit. lay down. and the moment kaz is settled, she is back at the door, pulling it shut, and latching it closed.

she wants to take the moment to feel relieved, relaxed, safe. but inej is quickly moving back across the room again, her foot hitting the cane, scattering it. clumsy, graceless, unlike her, but inej ignores it, and is instead rifling through her bag attached at her hip, yanking out bandages. she needs to stop the bleeding, she needs to get him settled and underneath a blanket to prevent shock -- but then, she hesitates, and she closes her eyes to offer a silent prayer to her saints before she opens them again, hurriedly wiping her hands off on a spare blanket on a nearby shelf. ]

Kaz --

[ her voice cracks, and she steels her nerves before she swallows, her fingers finding his shoulder, gently pressing her fingertips into the fabric of his coat. her thumb runs along the curve of his shoulder before she begins to undo his coat, as quickly and gently as she can, without sacrificing urgency. ]

I am sorry, but I need to take this off to bandage it, and I am --

[ the words lodge in her throat, as she works. it feels wrong, doing this, and doing something that inej knows is so deeply personal, and traumatic, and terrible for him to experience. being stabbed is the easy part, but being prodded like this is a type of violation that kaz is not ready for, and she caused it, she did it --

her fingers still, briefly, at the seams of his shirt, the slice her blade made, before she continues to undo it, her tone lowering, but still audible: ]

You are going to hate me, but I can live with that burden if you do not die.

[ he can't quite follow what it is she's doing. he knows that she's getting the door open, he told her to do as much. she mentioned doing as much. but he hasn't quite been able to...focus on that. or her. he still has a hand on the wall next to him, and he's still upright, but there is a sinking sensation that he can't tell if it's his body slowly starting to fall or if it's just everything else.

there's a clattering, a familiar clattering - was that his cane? - before her arm is back around him, and the sweeping wave of nausea is indistinguishable from the swaying floor. he doesn't even react, really, letting her arm come around him and letting his weight shift towards her.

they must take steps. kaz is sure they take steps. but he can't quite wrap his head around how many, or how far it is they go. her voice continues to be a centering point for him, brief words bringing him back to what is actually happening. inej is here, she is getting him somewhere safe, he is going to die.

no. that's not quite right.

i've got you pulls another, ragged bark of a laugh from him - though the sound and energy behind it has diminished. what had been an almost normal reaction from him just minutes before is not a bit lackluster. kaz is almost glad for the lack of any real awareness of how this looks, or sounds, or comes across to anyone else - he might be embarrassed. might.

he makes it to the bed with a broken groan, falling back to lay across the thin blanket. he hated these beds, the steril nature of the rooms. while part of him should probably take solace in at least this is clean, unlike his room at the slat, he couldn't shake the feeling he was in some kind of hospital bed. or a death bed.

stop thinking that way, brekker. stop quitting.

but maybe it was time for it all, really. he'd cheated himself out of the way of death too often for his short life, barely scrapped by with wounds and bruises and bloodied lips. it's karma, really, that the girl who thinks so much of him would be the one to finally put him in the dirt. and at a certain point, ignoring the fading darkness at the corner of his vision, the very loose, intangible grip he has on reality, can really only mean one thing.

inej is apologizing, but kaz can't figure out why. there is movement at his side but it is distant. it is only when her fingers make it to the seams of his shirt, when he feels the fabric peel away from his side and everything sways violently that his eyes widen and his hand snatches at inej's wrist. ]

Inej- [ harsh, like a blade over gravel. his eyes focus for a moment on her's, the red rim of her beautiful eyes. beautiful- really brekker? did you want to do this now? but he stares at her for a moment anyway, his hand still tight around her wrist, though he doesn't know how much strength he actually has left. ]

I'm- [ everything sways again, and kaz knows he doesn't have much longer left conscious. he tries to squeeze her wrist, tries to get her attention, to let her know this is important. ] I'm sorry I couldn't answer you, on the ship. That day. I don't- I want. [ but he starts to fade, quickly. the combination of the energy, pushing through the loss of blood, and the hands on his side, his skin, his open wound. he feels sick, like he could be sick. ] You. Want you to st...

[ and then he passes out. ]

[ she's in the middle of attempting to see how bad the wound really is when his hand finds her wrist, seizes it, and inej almost jolts her hand away, at the sudden touch. but she stills, at kaz gripping her wrist, at the sound of her name, and she opens her mouth to tell him, insistently, that she knows he hates being touched, but they cannot afford to have this discussion now --

but the words die in her throat, as he tries to talk, when he squeezes her wrist. the movement is so weak, in comparison to who kaz is as a person. he is a force to be reckoned with, but his weak grip on her wrist, the attempt to get her attention, stills her into looking at him. watching him attempt to force the words out of his mouth.

i'm sorry i couldn't answer you, on the ship, that day. i want you to stay.

and then his eyes roll back up into his head. his grip suddenly lessens, on her wrist. and, for a moment, inej is almost convinced he is dead, but no -- he is breathing, and inej draws in a shuddered breath, wipes her eyes on her sleeve, and begins to get to work.

it takes about three or four hours -- to clean the wound, to stop the bleeding, to get kaz out of his heavy coat and now ruined shirt and into something a little more breathable. to get him out of his gloves, so she can wash them all later. he is going to hate her, be mortified, and furious with her that she took such steps without asking permission, but he can be angry with her later. if he's angry with her later, then that means he's alive, and that is truly all that matters.

cleaning everything is a bit more difficult. water is scarce, and so inej just folds his clothes into a neat pile to be dealt with at another time. he would truly never forgive her if she left behind his coat and gloves, and so those are kept somewhere safe. and, finally, the last thing she picks up in her cleaning is his now dented cane.

she runs her fingers over the imperfection, exhausted at the thought of trying to find a way to get it fixed without kaz knowing it's dented in the first place, before she leans that against the bed, too. within reach, if he wants it for security. but as she does so, she looks him over, carefully making sure he is still breathing, and that he still has a pulse. and he looks almost . . . peaceful, asleep. far younger -- or maybe, his own age, instead of the adults ketterdam forced them all to be.

she takes his hand gingerly (even that feels wrong, like a violation), and runs her thumb over his knuckles. she should sleep, but inej knows that is impossible. she needs to ensure he makes it through the night, and even now, her mind wanders toward what kaz said, before he passed out. i'm sorry i couldn't answer you on the ship.

was that the apology that he thought she wanted? is that what he has been so fixated on? why had she not explained herself, or forced him to talk? why does she constantly keep it to herself, instead of forcing him into a conversation? and now, he was unconscious, and inej has lost her opportunity to tell him anything, until he wakes up. when he wakes up.

he thought he was going to die, so naturally he apologized.

the thought is so infuriating that the word slips out of her mouth before she can really stop herself: ]

Shevrati. [ a slow exhale before she takes his hand in both of hers, her fingers trembling, but now that she has said something, the words begin to pour out. ] It means know-nothing. Idiot. Stupid, arrogant. But you never asked because you did not want to admit you did not know something.

[ she rests her own hands against her mouth for a second, in a moment of prayer, before she continues. ]

I do not know why our paths intersected, but it was for a reason. We are connected, whether we want to be or not. [ and she gently sets his arm back down, letting go of his hand, to pull another blanket over him. his skin feels cold, and she smooths the blanket over his chest. there's an odd weight, that forms in her throat, and she whispers to herself: ] You mean everything to me.

[ and, with that, she pulls herself up onto the bed itself, to settle in next to him, curled into the tiniest ball, her eyes on the door. no knives. no weapons. just her.

waiting for him to wake up. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

closed.

tw: for PTSD/sexual assault/slavery throughout this thread just to be safe.

yes all of those for sure.

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ADDITIONAL TW FOR SEXUAL ASSAULT

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TW gore??? lots of blood.

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