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Chapter Text

Kaz Rietveld saw his brother for the last time on a bodyman’s cart. His brother’s sick and pale corpse burned into his blurry vision. Kaz had hoped and prayed for Jordie’s eyes to open, to discover he was still alive, but Kaz hadn’t even had the energy to move to shake him. He longed to move, to grab his brother, to jump from the cart, to shout to the bodymen, but he couldn’t. He didn’t stay conscious for long.

The next time Kaz awoke, his brother was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Ketterdam. All he had as far as his tired eyes could see were corpses and the restless tides of the harbor.

Kaz Rietveld died in the black harbor that day, only nine years old. Poor kid, half dead already from the plague, drowned horribly in the cruel waters of Ketterdam. He’d tried to save himself by clutching onto a stranger’s corpse, but the water had been stronger than the weak will of a farmboy. His body was never found.

Not long after poor Rietveld’s tragic demise, Kaz Brekker appeared in Ketterdam, spinning the story of two lives he’d taken already at such a young age. The deaths of two farmboys from Lij he insisted were his own doing, his own fault. His and Pekka Rollins' fault. but he kept that part to himself. He held the tale like armor around his small body, trying desperately to create an image for himself to stay alive.

The first time he used it was when he was trying to get work collecting information for a prominent Barrel boss. The man had laughed in his face at the sight of ten year old Kaz asking for such a dangerous job.

“You, boy?” The man had asked incredulously. “You don’t know what you’re even offering to do for me.”

“I do,” Kaz insisted.

“It’s dangerous work, boy,” The boss had told him. “People get hurt doing these kinds of things. A little runt like you wouldn’t be able to take it.”

“I can,” Kaz insisted more forcefully. The man sighed.

“Kid, the job you’re asking for isn’t meant for a boy like you. I can’t very well risk sending out someone who’ll just run away at the first sight of danger. No, I need someone strong. Someone who won’t back down from a fight. Not a child like you. Not someone who’s never hurt a soul.”

“I’ve hurt people, sir,” Kaz said. “I can do it.”

“Sure you have,” The man said. “Quit while you’re ahead, why don’t you? I don’t have the time to waste on a little Barrel runt like you. Maybe you think tripping your siblings or accidentally pushing someone down counts as ‘hurting someone’ but out here things are serious. Come back when you know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve hurt people,” Kaz repeated. “I know what I’m talking about. Give me the job, sir. Nobody suspects a kid, do they? I’m perfect for the job.”

“You’ll run away from the job is what you’ll do. Consider it a favor, kid. This line of work will change you. You’ll come thanking me one day, when you’re older.”

“Thanking you for what?”

“For letting you keep your hands clean. You don’t want to know what happens to a person’s mind after they’ve killed someone.”

“I have killed someone,” Kaz said, and the man faltered.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve killed two people,” Kaz said. “Brothers. Drowned them in the harbor. I can take it. I can handle the dirty work, sir.”

“A runt like you? A murderer? I don’t think so boy. I think you’re desperate and lying.”

“Jordan and Kasper Rietveld,” Kaz said, nearly proving the man right with the desperation creeping into his voice. “Those were their names. Farm boys from Lij. I killed them, sir, and I can kill again. Let me prove myself to you.”

The man paused for a moment, sizing Kaz up. For a moment, Kaz felt a spark of dangerous, treacherous hope. Then the man spoke.

“No. Final answer. I’m not hiring a runt to do an important job. Go find honest work somewhere, boy. Get yourself away from this kind of life.”

After that, Kaz had left as the Barrel boss told him, and found honest work for a little while. The way he obtained that work may have been less than ethical, but a job was a job, and it kept him alive.

That wasn’t the last time Kaz would use the tale of the deaths of the Rietveld boys to his advantage, nor was it the last time he’d be dismissed as a desperate child trying to be seen as intimidating.

As he stepped deeper into a life of crime, learning to pick pockets and locks, the rumors accelerated. After his first few arrests, the nicknames began. People began to believe the story the washed up child had told all those years ago. The names he said, the people he drowned in the harbor; it all fell into place. They began to call him Dirtyhands. The Bastard of the Barrel followed soon after.

Brekker wore the nicknames with pride. He didn’t care to hide his sins. He wore them openly, unafraid to bring up those he had murdered, conned, and bribed. He told the world he came straight from the harbor, born in the dark waters surrounding Kerch. It wasn’t a lie.

Kaz Brekker didn’t pretend to be a good person. He was unapologetically selfish and ruthless, and yet somehow, for some reason, he’d ended up with a crew who would follow him to the ends of the world. Desperation, he assumed, was the leading cause. His crows had few options, and perhaps in the Barrel, even a man such as himself could be seen as preferable to their other options. They all had their motivations. Freedom, fun, revenge, love, money. He didn’t ask them what they wanted. He knew well enough already. Kaz was always good about figuring out just enough without ever asking. He never liked asking personal questions.

Inej was different. She was better than even him at gathering information, yet she never hesitated to just ask. Curiosity brimmed in her dark eyes some days, and Kaz would be lying if he said he never ached to satisfy it.

It was curiosity that prompted her one day to ask him the one question nobody ever seemed to want the answer to.

“Who were the Rietvelds, Kaz?” She asked, and Kaz froze.

“You’ve heard the rumors, I’m sure,” He said roughly. “The brothers I drowned in the harbor when I was nine. My very first deaths. What an honor for them.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“Yes, you do. You always do, no matter what they say.”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t believe you when you say you’ve always been this way, Kaz,” She said, and he knew that already. It wasn’t a very believable lie, but nobody ever called him out on it. Nobody but her. “You were a kid once. Some might argue you still are. Something pushed you down this path, something pushed you to kill those boys. What drives a nine year old to murder?”

“It doesn’t matter, Inej,”

“I think it does.”

“Drop it.”

“Why?”

“Just-” He cut himself off with a sharp breath. “Drop it.”

Inej’s gaze softened as she stared into his dark coffee-brown eyes. She smiled sadly at him. He glared back at her, though it lacked any real bite.

“You didn’t really kill the Rietveld boys, did you?”

“Of course I did.”

“Did you mean to?” When Kaz didn’t respond, Inej nearly reached out to take his hand. She thought better of it and retracted the gesture before it began. “Did you really intend for the Rietvelds to die, Kaz? Or was it just a tragic accident that you’ve chosen to blame yourself for and spin into another myth to keep yourself safe?”

Kaz glared at the wall. Inej knew she’d hit the nail right on the head, and she could see in his eyes how much it hurt, though he’d never say it aloud.

“You don’t know what I did,” He rasped, still glaring at the wall.

“No,” She said gently. “I don’t. And I’m not going to make you tell me, because I know I can’t. And I wouldn’t want to. You can tell me as much or as little as you want, and I’ll listen. I owe you that much.”

“You owe me nothing,” Kaz said fiercely. “No more debts, Inej. You don’t owe me a moment of your time.”

“You’re right,” Inej said with a fond smile. “I don’t owe you anything at all. But I’m going to keep giving to you, Kaz Brekker, not because I have to, but because I want to. I’m free to do as I please, to spend my time with whoever I wish, and right now I wish to spend my time here with you. And to show you that there is someone out here who you can open up to, even if it’s not today, or even if it’s not much. I will be here whenever you’re ready.”

Kaz finally turned his gaze towards Inej. The two locked eyes and she saw countless emotions swirling in his eyes. What was going on in his mind would forever be a mystery to her.

“Thank you, Inej,” Kaz said coolly, and she could see in his features that his walls were back up, the emotion she’d seen in his eyes for just a brief moment already long gone. She smiled sadly at him. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried, she could only earn a few seconds of vulnerability. Still, she stood by her words. She would not sit here and hold his hand and wait for him to let his guard down. She would not mother him or try to tear his walls down herself. She would continue on with her life, and one day, when this mess of a man, of a boy really, was ready to begin the work on ripping down the armor he’d constructed around himself, she would welcome him with open arms.

Chapter Text

Jordie Rietveld saw his brother for the last time on a bodyman’s cart. His body had failed him as the plague took hold, he’d spent days coughing his lungs out, scratching at his face as pox covered his skin. He’d tried to hold himself together at first, for Kaz, but he succumbed quickly. He remembered hearing his little brother sobbing, holding Jordie, and he wanted to cry out, to tell Kaz to get away from him, to save himself, but he couldn’t move. He was too weak even to open his eyes.

When the bodymen came, Jordie’s eyes were still closed. He heard them approach, and he felt them pick up his limp body. He silently prayed that they hadn’t come for Kaz, too. He was thrown into a cart and he felt the bodies surround him. He felt sicker than he had all week. He desperately tried to force his body to cooperate, to move, to cry out, to throw himself from the cart, but he couldn’t. I'm not dead! He wanted to shout to the bodymen. But he was too weak. He succumbed to unconsciousness atop the mound of bodies on the cart.

When Jordie came to, he found he could open his eyes at last. He found himself still on the bodymen’s cart, now on a dock overlooking the harbor. His stomach twisted as he realized they were headed for the reaper’s barge.

As Jordie’s vision slowly cleared, he could make out more distinct faces in the pile of bodies he’d been thrown atop. His stomach twisted once more as he recognized the one beside him. Kaz, he realized with horror. Tears began to prick at his eyes. He was supposed to keep his little brother safe. He was supposed to protect him. And now here he was, eyes closed and limp on a stack of bodies. Kaz’s skin was pale and pockmarked. Jordie felt sicker than he’d ever been. He reached out weakly for his little brother, trying desperately to reach his hand so he could feel for a pulse. Maybe, maybe...

“Hey!” He heard someone shout. “That one’s alive!” And Jordie felt rough hands grab him and pull him unceremoniously from the cart. He was dropped on the dock and made eye contact with a tall man who was covered up from head to toe. Jordie blinked slowly at the man.

“So he is,” The man said. “Off with you, boy, get away from these docks.”

“My brother,” Jordie said weakly, barely audible. “Please, my brother-”

“Your brother’s dead, son,” The man said, not sounding particularly fatherly. “Move along now.”

“No- I- my brother-”

“Unless you want to be burned along with him, I strongly suggest you leave.”

“Burned? No- I- he’s not-”

“He’s dead, son,” The man said again. “And you’re lucky not to be. So if you want to stay that way, move along.”

In the end, Jordie wasn’t given a choice. He weakly shuffled and crawled away from the docks, sobbing weakly as he thought of his little brother’s corpse on the bodymen’s cart.

Jordie eventually recovered from his battle with the Queen’s Lady Plague, and as soon as he was fit to stand, he left Ketterdam. He couldn’t stand to be in the city that took his little brother from him any longer. He didn’t have it in him to return to Lij either, so he settled for one of the small towns between them.

Jordie came to town with nothing but the clothes on his back and the scars on his face from the plague. He wasn’t sure he’d survive long, but he was determined to try. He was determined to live a long and successful life, the life his little brother would never have. He had to succeed, for both of them. It was what Kaz would have wanted.

Jordie was taken in for a few years by a kind elderly couple. They fed him and gave him a roof over his head, and he began to find good honest work around town. He sold bread for a local baker and helped out on various different farms whenever he could. He never had a moment to himself, never a moment to rest, but he didn’t mind. Every moment of silence was filled with Kaz’s broken voice in his final days.

Jordie eventually made enough money to get his own small place to live. It was modest and somewhat dilapidated, but it was affordable. He moved out of the elderly couple’s home when he was seventeen (Kaz would have been thirteen, he tried not to think about it.) and began an independent life for the very first time. It was lonely.

When Jordie was twenty-one (Kaz would have been seventeen. Jordie never did stop thinking about it.) a man came knocking on his door. Jordie let him in and housed him for a few nights, eager to pay forward the good deed the elderly couple had done for him those years ago.

The man introduced himself by the name Bolliger. Jordie thought it was a strange name, but decided not to comment on it. Bolliger told Jordie his tales of woe that brought him to this small house in a nowhere town between Ketterdam and Lij.

Bolliger told Jordie he’d come from Ketterdam, and that he’d been caught up in some gang mess in the Barrel and been exiled after being shot. He threw around a lot of words Jordie didn’t recognize. Dregs, Black Tips, Geels, Dirtyhands, Wraith, but Jordie didn’t ask him to slow down. He understood just enough to get the gist.

Bolliger was a loud complainer, Jordie discovered quickly, but he figured the man had the right to complain after the hell he’d been through.

“Damn Dirtyhands,” He’d say every so often, and Jordie gathered that was a person. “I mean come on, I worked so hard for that man, day and night, and what do I get? A bullet and a death threat is what. I mean, I messed up one time! That’s what I get for serving a bastard like him.”

“Who is this ‘Dirtyhands’ anyways?” Asked Jordie, tired of hearing some strange name thrown around that meant nothing to him.

“Dirtyhands, Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel,” Bolliger said. “Barely even human if you ask me. And who knows what’s under those gloves?”

Jordie gave Bolliger an unimpressed look.

“That wasn’t an answer, Bolliger, I still don’t know who that is.”

“He’s a damn Barrel rat is what he is,” Bolliger said, and Jordie decided it was at least marginally more of an answer to his question. “Thinks he’s some big-shot gang leader but he’s just a lieutenant. Massive ego, that man. But you don’t wanna be on his bad side.”

“I gathered that much,” Jordie said, eyeing the bandages poking out from under Bolliger’s clothes. “He really shot you?”

“No, he paid someone else to do it. Made a whole show of it too,” Bolliger said grumpily. “Damned bastard. That’s why they call him Dirtyhands. No morals, that man. Nothing’s beneath him. They say his first murders were children. One was only nine years old.”

“Nine?” Jordie asked incredulously. “Ghezen, just how fucked up does someone have to be to kill a child?”

“He’s horrible,” Bolliger agreed. “Gloats about it too, thinks it makes him look tough, like killing children is so cool. Constantly threatening people with it. Always saying something like, ‘I drowned two boys for nothing, what do you think I’ll do to you?’ or, ‘I ran those two farmboys out of all their money and shelter, you think I’m above playing dirty now?’ or ‘Do you want me to put you down like I did to those Rietveld boys?’ It’s like he-”

“What?” Jordie snapped. The room was suddenly spinning.

“Huh?” Bolliger said. “What’s the problem?”

“Repeat that,” Jordie said, eyes wide. “The name you said, say it again.”

“The boys Brekker killed? Rietveld. Oh, Ghezen, you didn’t know them, did you? Is it really true?”

“Rietveld,” Jordie repeated dazedly, his face pale. “And… And, farmboys, you said? Two boys, one nine years old? Oh- Oh, Ghezen, what-”

“Careful, Jordan,” Bolliger said slowly. “I don’t know who those boys were to you, or what you’re going to do now, but don’t go against Brekker. You can’t beat him.”

“You’re sure it was Brekker who killed them?” Jordie asked, ignoring him.

“Yes, but-”

“Where can I find him?”

“Jordan, no,” Bolliger said firmly. “Don’t go looking for him. Don’t do it, he’ll kill you. He doesn’t have a conscience.”

“Where,” Jordie hissed, “Can I find him?”

“Don’t do it Jordan,” Bolliger said softly. “You’ll die.”

“I’ll kick you out of this house, Bolliger,” Jordie said angrily. “If you don’t tell me where I can find this Dirtyhands right now you’re going out in the cold. Then we’ll see which of us is going to die.”

“Ketterdam, in the southern part of the Barrel.” Bolliger sighed sadly. “He runs a gambling den there, the Crow Club. He walks with a crow’s head cane, always in a suit, and always wears gloves. He’s impossible to miss.”

“Thank you,” Jordie said, and it was genuine. “I have to find him, Bolliger. You don’t understand. If he did what he claims he did, he’s taken more from me than anyone could ever know.”

“Be careful,” Bolliger said. “I get the sense you’re not looking for a friendly chat with him. He and his crew don’t take kindly to people wanting to murder him.”

“I figured,” Jordie muttered. “But I have to do this.”

“Why, Jordan?” Bolliger asked. “Who were those kids to you?”

“If it’s true,” Jordie said. “Then our friend Brekker ran a con on me and my little brother eight years ago. We lost everything. We were caught out in the plague and picked up by bodymen. They were wrong about me. I got away. My brother wasn’t so lucky. He was… He was burned on the reaper’s barge. If you and Brekker both speak the truth, then he’s the reason my brother is dead. I have to find him.”

“What was his name?” Bolliger asked. “Your brother.”

Jordie smiled sadly. He hadn’t said his little brother’s name out loud in years.

“Kasper,” He said. “Kasper Rietveld.”

Chapter Text

Kaz had several expectations for how the day was going to go. He had a few meetings with the Dregs to get out of the way, and some planning to do with Anika and Pim that he wasn’t particularly thrilled about, but it was necessary nonetheless. Wylan and Jesper had insisted that he join them for dinner at the Van Eck mansion later that night, and he only agreed to go when they told him they were bringing Inej as well.

Kaz was a busy man. His schedule was full today, and he didn’t have time to waste on anything trivial. One look at his pocket watch told him he was running short on time before his next meeting back at the Slat. Kaz was currently watching over things at the Crow Club, ensuring all was running as it should on his tables. His plans included one or two shots, scolding Jesper if he caught him trying to enter a serious game, and perhaps catching a cheater here or there.

His plans did not include seeing his long-dead older brother’s ghost.

The door to the Crow Club slammed open, and only one or two heads turned at the noise, but Kaz looked. Kaz always looked. He froze.

In the doorway stood a man in modest clothing. He had wavy hair halfway down his neck and skin as pale as Kaz’s very own. He was far too tall, far too old for how Kaz remembered him, but unmistakably Jordie Rietveld. Kaz’s breath caught in his chest as he felt the water begin to rise.

What was it this time? He asked himself frantically. What set him off? He’d been so calm, nothing had happened, and nobody touched him, so why? Why was he seeing Jordie again? And why did he look so… big? Normally he looked the way Kaz remembered him. A thirteen-year-old boy covered in pockmarks from the plague, not this whole grown man with faint spots on his face that could be mistaken for acne scars. What changed?

Kaz turned on his heels and walked away, trying to ignore his brother’s ghost. If he just didn’t look at it, maybe it would go away. Kaz squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment and pushed past tables full of people laughing and drinking and playing. He faintly heard the sound of footsteps chasing after him and he sped up, not quite breaking into a run. Kaz’s breathing sped up and he tried fruitlessly to will it back down to normal.

It's not real he reminded himself. Jordie's dead, he's not here. He's not here. This is the Crow Club, not the harbor. He's dead. He's dead he's dead he's dead- 

A hand grabbed Kaz’s shoulder and before he could think he was swinging his cane. He heard a crunch and a shout, but it was faint like he was underwater. Kaz broke into a run now, ducking away from people who shouted words that sounded like another language to him.

Kaz ran into the hallway behind the bar, then threw himself into his back office, the same room he usually took anyone of interest when he needed them to talk. He slammed the door behind him and locked it, quickly shoving the desk up against the door just to be sure.

Kaz collapsed into the corner of the room, hands shaking and sweating beneath his gloves. He clutched his cane like a lifeline as he gasped for air against the invisible hands holding him underwater.

Jordie's dead, He repeated like a mantra. I killed him. He's dead and I killed him. He's not here. It's not real. He's not real.

Distantly, Kaz heard banging on the door. It didn’t register well enough in his mind for him to react. Shouting started up again outside the room, but it didn’t sink in. Nothing did.

Kaz heaved for breath and his hand snaked itself into his hair. He gripped it as though he could pull himself from the freezing waters by the hair alone, but the cold numbed his skin and he felt nothing even as he tugged at his sweat-coated locks.

Kaz was losing the fight for air badly, he needed to come up, to breathe, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t. The bodies were weighing him down. Hands were on his neck, on his shoulder, dragging him deeper and deeper. Black spots appeared in his vision, and he tried desperately to blink them away, but they only grew with each strangled breath he tried to take.

Water was filling his lungs now, and he was losing strength fast. He needed to swim, to get to the surface, to get to the shore, but it all felt so far away. The black spots overtook his sight at last, and Kaz felt his body sink into the depths.

When Kaz came to, he was huddled in a corner in his office at the Crow Club, his cane resting on top of him. The banging and shouting outside was gone, replaced by the usual noise of the club, and Kaz had half a mind to think it had been just as much a hallucination as Jordie’s ghost was.

Kaz picked himself off the floor, ignoring the way his bad leg protested at the strain, and dusted himself off. He’d lost a lot of time, no doubt, and he was sure to be missed back at the Slat.

Kaz made quick work of putting the desk back in place and fixing his hair and shirt which had both become somewhat ruffled. When he deemed himself put together enough to be seen, he unlocked the door and stepped back out into the Crow Club. Jordie’s ghost was nowhere to be seen, thankfully. It seemed Kaz had dispelled that moment of weakness, and hopefully, he wouldn’t be seeing things anymore. It wasn’t a good sign that he was hallucinating so vividly.

Kaz limped out of the club and down the cobbled street until he made his way back to the Slat. He knew he was late already, but he was rarely questioned. He went inside, and upon not seeing Anika or Pim on the ground floor, decided they must be waiting for him in his office. He sighed, dreading the walk up the stairs, but began his ascent nonetheless.

When Kaz entered his office, to his faint surprise, it was not Anika or Pim who awaited his arrival.

“Hello, Inej,” He said, surprise barely entering his voice. “Where are Anika and Pim?”

“Change of plans, Kaz,” Inej said. “There’s a man here.”

“Yes, I believe there are several,” Kaz said. “More than half the Dregs, I’d wager.”

Inej rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“What business?” He asked.

“Won’t say,” Inej said. “But he insists he needs to talk to you. He seemed pleasant enough with me and listened when I asked him to wait in a room, but Kaz, he’s a man with murder on his mind.”

“Many people in the Barrel are,” Kaz said dismissively. “Who is he?”

“He told me his name is Jordan,” Inej said, and Kaz stiffened. How cruel.

“And why should I meet with this Jordan?” Kaz spat. He’d already dealt with one too many Jordans for the day.

“He says he has important business with you,” Inej said.

“Yes, important business that involves acquainting his preferred knife with my neck, I’m sure.”

“No doubt,” Inej agreed. “But he came unarmed.”

“You’re sure?”

“When am I not?”

“Interesting,” Kaz said. “So you believe he has intentions of slitting my throat, but he is here without means to do so? Has he come for information, then?”

“I can’t be certain,” Inej said. “He didn’t tell me much. But I’m confident you’re safe entering a room with him. Honestly, even if he had a knife I’d say the same.”

Kaz smiled slightly. “Alright,” He said. “I’ll meet with this Jordan. Always interesting enough to see what I’ve done to earn some new Barrel rat’s hatred.”

“That’s the other thing,” Inej said. “He’s definitely Kerch, but I don’t think he’s from around here. He’s certainly not Barrel material. A country boy if I had to guess. Maybe from Lij or around that general area.”

Kaz closed his eyes for a moment, running a gloved hand through his hair. A country boy possibly from Lij named Jordan, how wonderful. This meeting was sure to go swimmingly.

Kaz opened his eyes and looked at Inej. There was a faint trace of worry in her eyes but he pretended not to see it.

“Well,” He said, tapping his crow’s head cane. “I suppose it’s time to give our new country friend a warm Barrel welcome.”

Chapter Text

Jordie sat in the room the girl he’d met escorted him into. Inej, he thinks her name was. She’d found him in the Crow Club, knocking aggressively at the door with the hand the man he assumed to be Brekker hadn't crushed with his cane. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the man’s face in the split second he turned to him when he lashed out, but based on that cane and the suit alone, he matched the description Bolliger had given him.

Inej had grabbed him and pulled him away from the door, hissing a threat in his ear. When he’d tried to pull away from her, she pulled a knife on him, and his hands went up immediately. He discovered quickly that this rough Barrel lifestyle really wasn’t his strong suit and he was dangerously out of place.

Inej led Jordie out of the club, having put the knife back in its sheath in a manner that revealed the countless others she had on her person. He didn’t try to run after that.

“Who are you?” She asked him as they exited the club.

“Uh- Jordan,” He said, deciding to leave out the last name. He didn’t know how well the name Rietveld was known, but given Bolliger knew the name, he couldn’t risk giving himself away here. “I- uh- I need to see Brekker,”

“Why?”

“I have important personal business to attend to with him,” He said, trying to sound proper, though his farm clothes were doing him no favors.

“And who are you to him?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say. But I need to see him. Just for a moment, please.”

Inej sighed. “Come with me, then,” She said. “You can wait patiently for him to turn up if he decides he wants to.”

Jordie grinned like an idiot as if he wasn’t planning to murder the man once he made sure he really was the one who killed Kaz.

“Thank you,” He said genuinely, and she didn’t respond. She led him into a crooked-looking house and he followed her up the stairs. Several people were in the house, most on the bottom floor drinking and talking.

She led him into a small room on the second floor. It had a sad-looking bed and a chest, presumably for storing clothing. The room wasn’t much, but it wasn’t like Jordie cared.

“You can wait here,” Inej told him. “If you want to see him, don’t leave this room. Don’t go downstairs, don’t go outside, and do not go in the other rooms. Got it?”

“Got it,” He said, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Good,” She said, and with that, she had left him alone in the dilapidated room, waiting anxiously to see the man who took everything from him all those years ago.

Jordie settled himself down onto the sad little mattress, trying to ignore the growing pain in his hand. He determinedly refused to look at it for fear of what he might see. He was sure it was broken. It would be difficult for him to get back to farm work for a little while. If he survived long enough to, his mind supplied unhelpfully.

As Jordie sat waiting, he found himself tapping anxiously on his knee with his intact hand, then bouncing both legs as his nerves mounted. Could he really face him? What if Brekker recognized him? Would he look the same as he did eight years ago?

It was odd, Jordie thought. He hadn’t seen much of Brekker’s face or even really his build, but what he did see didn’t remind him at all of what he remembered him to look like. Was Brekker the wrong man? But how could he be, with all Bolliger told him? Only one man could ever be blamed for Kaz’s death, so if Brekker really was responsible, then surely he had to be Hertzoon. So why did he seem so different?

Jordie shrugged the notion off. He barely saw Brekker at all, he couldn’t possibly tell what he looked like. He only really saw the man’s back, and that was buried beneath a suit and a coat. He could easily be the man that killed his brother. And the cane made sense, too. He must be old by now, he remembered the man having a full beard and greying hair when he met him- when he called himself Jakob Hertzoon and invited them into his home. So, of course, the man would be walking with a cane by now. It all fit together so perfectly. Everything made so much sense, so why did it all feel so wrong?

Jordie fought with himself over it for a while longer. He didn’t have much else to do as he waited all alone in silence to finally confront the man who took his little brother from him. All Jordie needed was to see his face, to stare into those conniving Kaelish blue eyes of his to be sure that it really was this Brekker, this Dirtyhands, this Bastard who took Kaz away from him. Once Jordie was sure he had the right man, then his planning could begin.

If he was being honest with himself, Jordie didn’t know how to go about the whole revenge business. He’d never taken a life before, never hurt anyone, not even really by mistake. He was always so careful, never once out of line, and the thought of killing a man made his blood run cold.

Somehow, though, the thought of letting Brekker live if he was responsible for Kaz’s death made Jordie’s insides twist even more. He’d never been a hateful person, but for this man, for this one lone man, Jordie felt all the contempt he’d never wasted on anybody else come flooding to the surface. If he had it in him to hurt anyone, to kill anyone, to slit anyone's throat in cold blood, it was that man. It was Hertzoon. It was Brekker. He couldn’t leave him alive.

Jordie began to plot to himself, trying to come up with a way he could take Brekker out, preferably without Inej stabbing him right after with one of her many knives. He wasn’t sure how deep her allegiance with him ran, though, and given what Jordie knew about Brekker, he was inclined to think people allied with him more out of fear than loyalty. Maybe once he was dead, she wouldn’t care anymore, though that was risky. He considered bribery but chances were Brekker was richer than him and whatever he was giving her was better than what Jordie could offer.

Jordie bit his lip in frustration as he tried to think of a way to get away with the crime. Maybe if he could figure out a way where nobody knew it was him, they wouldn’t come for him. But how would he 𝘥𝘰 that? He was no criminal mastermind, he was way out of his depth. This was unlike him, he didn’t know how to-

Jordie was cut out of his thoughts when the door slammed open without warning.

In the doorway stood a man. He was no older than Jordie himself, likely even younger, though the worry lines on his face told a different story. He wore a well-kept suit and black leather gloves. In his right hand was a cane topped with a silver crow’s head.

This was Brekker. This was the Dirtyhands that Bolliger had warned him about, that broke his hand, that supposedly killed his brother. Jordie stared at Brekker for a moment, and Brekker stared back. At that moment, Jordie had only one thought in his mind.

“You’re not Hertzoon.”

Chapter Text

"You're not Hertzoon."

The words were a cold slap in the face to Kaz, as though the harbor had risen up to personally strike him. His whole body went stiff.

Kaz was staring dead into the eyes of a ghost. Jordie had finally come to drag him down into the water himself.

“Terribly sorry to disappoint,” Kaz said flatly, though he barely registered the words leaving his lips. What was he doing? Jordie was dead, he couldn’t be talking to him. If someone came in now, they’d see Kaz having a conversation with an empty room. He’d look insane, he’d lose all creditability. He had to stop this.

“Who…” Jordie said, eyes wide and voice shaking. “Are you?”

Kaz didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t usually answer when he heard Jordie talk to him, though before this he only ever heard his voice in his dreams. Not like this, not when he was awake. Was he dreaming? It felt too real, too vivid. A hallucination, then. That was worse. That was much worse. How does one stop hallucinating?

“You… You are Brekker, aren’t you?” Jordie’s ghost said, and the name leaving his lips was another slap in the face to Kaz.

“Don’t do this to me now, Jordie,” Kaz whispered. Jordie made no indication to have heard him.

“Aren’t you?” Jordie repeated again. Kaz wondered if indulging the hallucination would make it go away. He doubted it. Maybe he should sleep more. Inej was always telling him he needed more sleep. Perhaps it was time to heed her advice. After all, there was no avoiding seeing Jordie in his dreams if he was seeing him while he was awake, too.

“I am,” Kaz rasped. He wasn’t sure if it was stranger to ignore Jordie’s ghost or talk to it. It felt weird pretending he didn’t see it. Perhaps he’d just hope that nobody walked in on him now. Although, if he was standing in an empty room, why had Inej sent him here? Why had she told him there was a boy named Jordan here to see him? Unless… No. Kaz couldn’t entertain that possibility. Hope was dangerous. It was better to just call the Jordie he saw before him a hallucination and be done with it all.

“I-” Jordie’s ghost began. He looked pale. His eyes were darting around the room as if trying to take in too much all at once. “I-I’m looking for some information, Mr. Brekker, if you don’t mind. Can you tell me anything about the um, the Reitveld brothers?”

“Dead,” Kaz said, and he didn’t know why. “But you knew that. So why ask?”

“I mean, I mean, specifics, Mr. Brekker, I’m trying to understand 𝘩𝘰𝘸 they died.”

“I killed them,” Kaz said. And Jordie looked shocked. He knew, he already knew his death was Kaz’s fault, so why was this projection of him so surprised looking? Kaz didn’t understand.

“You’re not Hertzoon,” Jordie repeated.

“Not last time I checked, no.”

Kaz glanced down at Jordie’s hand. It was crooked and bent in ways it shouldn’t be. It was clearly broken. For a moment, Kaz’s mind flashed back to the Crow Club. A hand on his shoulder, a rush of panic, the swing of his cane, a crunch, a scream. Jordie. Jordie’s hand on his shoulder, Jordie’s hand crushed under his cane. Jordie’s scream he barely heard as he sank into the harbor in his head.

Ghosts don't normally touch people. Nor are their hands usually broken by the living.

“Hertzoon was most responsible for their deaths, wasn’t he?” Jordie asked. “So how can you claim to have done it?”

Oh, Ghezen. It all made sense now. Jordie wanted to make Kaz say it.

“Someone… had to set the scene for ‘Hertzoon’ to run his con. If not for me, if not for my actions, Jordie and Kasper Rietveld would both be alive. I killed them.”

“You…” Jordie whispered. “You set it up?”

“You could say that.”

Jordie’s face went slack. He stared at Kaz, or rather, stared through him. Kaz’s mind was reeling. He was losing his grip on what was real. Jordie was a ghost, wasn’t he? But a ghost shouldn’t have been able to grab his shoulder, shouldn’t have had his hand broken, shouldn’t have been brought here by Inej for him to meet. Kaz couldn’t get a grip on his own mind at that moment, and it terrified him.

In a way, he was almost relieved when he felt the first punch connect with his jaw.

Kaz spun his head to the side to roll the punch off, but he still felt the harsh impact of it. It was followed quickly by another, far quicker, though also far more predictable. Ghosts shouldn't be able to fight. But Kaz didn’t have time to think. He quickly ducked out of the way of Jordie’s fist and countered with a punch of his own right to his brother’s stomach. Kaz heard Jordie cough violently as he staggered backward. Jordie spat in Kaz’s face.

Kaz casually wiped it away with a gloved hand and approached Jordie again. Jordie kicked Kaz’s cane out from under him, and Kaz’s weight buckled. Jordie took the opportunity and backhanded Kaz across the face, sending Kaz staggering onto his bad leg. Kaz caught himself with his cane once more but hissed in pain at the pressure to his leg. Kaz lashed out gracelessly with his left fist, feeling more than seeing when it connected with Jordie’s nose. He heard it crunch just as his hand had not so long ago. Jordie cried out and blood gushed down his certainly broken nose.

“I’ll kill you,” Jordie said, and his tone was almost weak, almost pathetic, but Kaz heard the fire in it. The hate. “As long as you breathe I will not rest. I will never rest again until you get what you deserve.”

“I know,” Kaz rasped. “You’ve been telling me that for years.”

In an instant, Jordie’s knee had come up and was connecting with Kaz’s ribs. Kaz sputtered and coughed as his older brother struck him, and he heard the unmistakable sound of bone breaking. Kaz watched as blood flew from his own lips and he blindly elbowed where he thought Jordie’s face was. He missed his nose but connected with his cheek. Jordie grabbed Kaz’s arm and twisted it back. Kaz poorly stifled a cry of pain.

Suddenly, Jordie and Kaz’s faces were mere inches apart. They stared into each other’s eyes, both the same deep coffee brown. Both faces dotted with the same pockmarks of the Queen’s Lady Plague. Both with the same pale Kerch complexion.

For a moment, Kaz thought he saw something cross his brother’s eyes. Something along the lines of recognition, of softness, of something that told him that Jordie still looked at Kaz and saw his little brother, not the monster who got him killed.

And then Jordie’s hands closed around Kaz’s scarred throat.

Jordie’s grip grew deathly tight in an instant. At that moment, it was as if the pain in Jordie’s hand had dissipated, replaced by nothing but hate that fueled him. Kaz’s eyes went wide, and with his left hand he scraped at Jordie’s hands wrapped around his neck. With his right, he clutched his cane. He did not swing it at Jordie. He did not move it an inch.

“You-” Kaz choked out, barely audible. “You fina-finally decid-ed to… take me- with you… Jor-die.”

“It’s what you deserve,” Jordie spat. “You killed my brother. You killed my Kaz. You don’t deserve to breathe after what you’ve done.”

Kaz parted his lips, trying to speak, but he couldn’t force out another word. He let his cane drop to the floor. He stared into his older brother’s eyes as he continued to weakly pull at Jordie’s hands around his neck, now with both of his own.

Black spots began to form in Kaz’s vision yet again, and his ears started to ring. He felt his face grow painfully hot as his blood roared in his veins. Jordie’s grip was unrelenting and cruel. Kaz’s eyes rolled back in his head.

Faintly, Kaz heard a knock at the door.

Kaz barely reacted, but he saw Jordie’s eyes widen and his head snap in the direction of the door. Kaz heard a voice on the other side of the door, but he couldn’t hear what it said. It would have been funny, if Kaz wasn’t about to die, just how familiar this image was.

Then the door burst open. Kaz saw movement through his blurry, blackened vision, and he felt himself be dropped to the floor. He didn’t have it in him to catch himself and he fell hard on his bad leg. He gasped for air and his vision cleared ever so slightly, just enough for him to recognize his savior.

Inej.

She had a knife in her hand, but he couldn’t tell which one. She was holding it up, ready to throw it, and Kaz knew in that moment she was about to kill Jordie. She shouldn't be able to see him, he thought weakly. But then, Jordie shouldn’t have been able to nearly kill him, so what did he know? All he knew was that a knife was pointed at his brother. She drew it back, ready to strike, and at the last moment-

“Don’t!” He choked out weakly, and the knife was in the air. He heard it connect with the wall, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Inej moved fast, quickly moving herself out of Kaz’s field of vision right past him, right to where he knew Jordie stood. Kaz tried to move, tried to turn, but he couldn’t. His body wouldn’t obey him. “Don’t… Don’t hurt him.” Kaz rasped, praying to a god he did not believe in that she could hear his broken voice at all.

“You’re insane,” She said, and he smiled weakly. “But fine.”

Kaz heard shuffling behind him, and he couldn’t tell what was going on, but he trusted his Wraith enough to know she had it covered. After a few minutes, Kaz saw Inej return to his field of vision.

“I think,” He choked out. “That we bonded pretty well.”

Chapter Text

Kaz had ended up passing out after it all. Inej watched over him while he slept, though she was careful not to touch him. Saints knew he didn’t sleep nearly enough, he needed every minute he could get.

Inej had tied up the man who tried to kill her Kaz to the best of her ability with what she had at the time, but the bonds weren’t her best work. However, with her staying in the room, she felt confident he wouldn’t try anything. She could see the fear in his eyes when he looked at her. Good. He should be afraid.

Inej heard a shuffling sound beside her, and she turned to see Kaz beginning to stir. He had dark purple bruises forming in a ring around his neck, and a big bruise already taking hold on his jaw, and another on his cheekbone. Blood was splattered on and around his lips, and Inej worried about whatever injury had him spitting actual blood. She’d need to get a healer in here soon, or Nina if need be. Someone, anyone, who could help him not bleed out from the inside.

For now, though, Inej turned her attention towards the boy slowly waking up beside her. Kaz opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the light, seeming almost delirious for a moment, before his eyes hardened and he sat up straight. He winced slightly at the sharp movement.

“Woah, careful,” Inej said. “Don’t move too quickly, okay?”

“He’s still here,” Kaz said slowly, ignoring Inej and staring and the tied-up man in the corner.

“Yes,” Inej said hesitantly.

“And… You can see him,” Kaz said equally hesitantly.

“Yes, I can… see him.” Inej looked at Kaz with worry in her eyes. “Are you alright? Did you hit your head in the fight?”

Kaz was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Yeah,” He said. “Must’ve.”

“So,” Inej said. “Are you going to tell me what just happened?”

“I got into a fight,” Kaz said, still looking at Jordan who didn’t speak.

“Yes, I can see that,” Inej said. “And might I ask why your eloquent conversation skills devolved into a brawl?”

“He killed my brother,” Jordan hissed, and Inej looked between him and Kaz. Kaz seemed determined to not look anywhere in Jordan’s vicinity.

“I’ve killed a lot of people,” Kaz said resignedly. “I don’t have time to deal with everyone who ever loved someone I killed. I’d never have a moment to myself.”

“He was a child, Brekker!”

“We all were, once.”

“You? I doubt it.” Jordan spat in Kaz’s face, and based on his reaction, Inej had to guess it was not the first time.

“Let me guess, you believe the stories,” Kaz said, wiping his face off. The ones you spun yourself, Inej wanted to add, but she didn’t. “That I was born out of the harbor, fully formed, gloves on, a killer since birth? It’s time to wake up, Jordie. There’s no good or evil in this world. We all start out decent. Even me. We all have cruelty within us. Even your poor little brother. We’re all fucked up in the head, Jordie. Get used to it.”

“What did you call me?” Jordan hissed, getting as close to Kaz as he could without faceplanting in his binds. Kaz stiffened.

“The same thing I called you while you were trying to strangle me, Jordie,” He said, venom dripping from his voice. “But I suppose you were too caught up in the moment to notice.”

Jordan glared at Kaz. Kaz held his gaze, though his stare held far less bite to it.

“You know nothing, Brekker,” Jordan said. “And I swear, one day I’ll kill you.”

“Big talk for someone held captive in his enemy’s own house,” Kaz said evenly. “I’ll give you a lesson on surviving the Barrel, Rietveld. Never threaten the man who holds your life in his hands.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Dirtyhands,” Jordan said, and for a moment, Inej thought she saw Kaz wince, but if he did he recovered quickly.

“Then you’re more stupid than you look, Jordie.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why should I?”

“You don’t get to call me that, Brekker. Only my brother can call me that, and my brother is dead because of you!”

“Because your brother was so special, Jordie,” Kaz said cruelly. “As if you didn’t let everyone call you that. Maybe I’m the special one. You really hate me so much?”

“Yes,” Jordie hissed.

“More than Hertzoon, even?” Kaz asked. Inej wondered who this Hertzoon the two kept talking about was. Jordan didn’t respond. He looked conflicted.

“You both were responsible,” Jordan said eventually. “I’ll kill you both.”

“No,” Kaz said coolly. “You won’t.”

“No?” Jordan laughed. “You didn’t put up a very good fight earlier. You’re lucky your girlfriend came to save your ass when she did. Face it Brekker, I’ll kill you one day.”

“Perhaps,” Kaz said, and Inej shot him a look. “But our friend Hertzoon is mine.”

“Then I’ll kill him first to wipe the smug grin off your face, Brekker, before I slit your conniving, murderous throat.”

“Who is this Hertzoon?” Inej interjected. Kaz gave her a tense look for a moment.

“His partner in crime, apparently,” Jordan said. Kaz was silent. Inej looked at him expectantly. Kaz sighed.

“Rollins, Inej.”

Inej blinked in confusion. Hertzoon was Pekka Rollins? Kaz and Rollins had worked together? To kill this boy’s little brother? None of it was adding up.

“You told me Pekka Rollins killed your-” She started.

“Pekka Rollins has killed a lot of people.” Kaz cut her off. Jordan was staring at the two of them in confusion.

“Pekka Rollins?” He echoed. “Is that Mr. Hertzoon’s real name? Who is he?”

“Why should I tell you anything?” Kaz shot back. “So you can track him down and get yourself killed at his hands?”

“And why should you care?” Jordan asked. “You’d just love it if the other Rietveld boy you thought you killed did himself in, wouldn’t you?”

“And how do you know,” Kaz began, ignoring Jordan’s question. “That your little brother, your Kasper is really dead?”

“He was burned,” Jordan said with a tone that threatened to do the same. “On the Reaper’s Barge. I saw his body before it. And besides, I’m hearing of his death right from the source.” He glared into Kaz’s eyes.

“I thought I killed you, too,” Kaz said. “And yet here you are, Jordie. So very, very alive. Who’s to say your poor little Kasper isn’t out there somewhere, too?”

“Is he?” Jordan asked, a desperate hope beginning to spike in his voice. Kaz laughed roughly.

“No.”

And that was it. Inej was done. She didn’t know what had gotten into Kaz today or why he seemed so dead set on tormenting this poor boy he’d clearly already taken nearly everything from, but she was done watching it.

“Kaz!” She said sharply. Kaz and Jordan both whipped around to stare at her. Their faces were an identical shade of bright white. All three of them sat there, frozen, for a moment too long. Jordan was the one to break the silence.

“What did you just call him?”

Chapter Text

“What did you just call him?” Jordie hissed urgently. Inej had just called Brekker Kaz.  

Brekker had gone visibly stiff and his eyes were darting wildly between Jordie and Inej. Inej said nothing, she just stared at the two. The silence stretched uncomfortably long until Jordie broke it once more.

“Brekker,” He said, addressing the pale man before him. “What is your first name?”

He watched Brekker swallow a lump in his throat before he spoke.

“My name,” He said slowly. “Is Kaz. Kaz Brekker.”

Jordie’s mind went blank and he turned that new information over in his mind. Kaz Brekker, he repeated back to himself. Kaz Rietveld. Kaz Brekker. Kaz Rietveld.

Brekker had called him Jordie. He had Jordie’s pale skin and dark eyes. Jordie went paler still when he finally registered in his mind the faded pox scars dotting his face. It couldn’t be.

“How…” Jordie’s voice broke. “How old are you? Kaz Brekker?”

“Seventeen,” Kaz rasped softly, and Jordie didn’t have to do the math in his head. He was twenty-one. His brother would be seventeen. He never stopped thinking about it. Never, never, never. 

“You were nine,” He said quietly. And Kaz nodded without needing to ask what he meant. “You told everyone you killed us both when you were nine. And they believed you.” Jordie’s voice broke off again. “I believed you.”

“I never lied,” Kaz said. “Kaz Rietveld died in the harbor that day, and I truly believed you were dead. Maybe I still do.”

“That’s… That’s why you asked Inej if she could see me.” Realization dawned on Jordie’s face. “You didn’t think I was real.” 

Kaz looked away and said nothing.

“Kaz Rietveld?” Inej asked, looking pointedly at Kaz. He stayed quiet again.

“Oh, Ghezen,” Jordie breathed as the reality of it all hit him in the face. “Kaz, Kaz, you’re-”

Jordie was finally, after eight long years of grieving, standing face to face with his supposedly dead little brother.

“I’m going to assume,” Inej said, somewhat awkwardly. “That you two won’t be trying to off each other again, so I’ll just untie you quickly if you don’t mind-”

Within a few moments, Jordie’s hands and feet were free from their bindings and Inej had silently slipped out of the room, leaving the two young men alone. They stared at each other, neither one knowing what to say, or how to address it all. Slowly, Jordie began to realize the full reality of the situation.

Oh, he realized in horror. I just- I just tried to murder my little brother. I nearly killed Kaz. I nearly killed Kaz. Oh Ghezen, what have I done?

The look in Kaz’s deep brown eyes told Jordie that he’d known all along. And part of Jordie wanted to hit him again for it. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jordie blurted out. “Why did you lie? All that nonsense about running the con and killing us- why? Why would you want me to think that? Why would you make that up?”

“I didn’t,” Kaz said, clearly determined to look anywhere but Jordie’s soft eyes. “I never said I ran the con, I just made it possible.”

“How the hell did you-”

“If I…” Kaz faltered. “If I hadn’t- If I wasn’t- But it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. And you… aren’t dead.”

“No.”

“So.”

“So what, Kaz?” Jordie asked. “Are you going to keep pushing me away? Keep lying to me about who you are? How do I even know you are Kaz? How do I know it’s not just another one of your lies?”

“You don’t,” Kaz said simply. “And whether you believe it or not isn’t my problem.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, I don’t think it is.”

“I’m your brother, Kaz, don’t you care at all?”

“Of course I care, Jordie!” Kaz snapped, rising to his feet and wincing at the pressure on his bad leg. Jordie stared at him with wide eyes as Kaz’s chest heaved. Slowly, Kaz lowered himself once more to sit on the bed. 

“Then why, Kaz?” Jordie asked. “Why lie to me? Why pretend you don’t know me? I nearly killed you, Kaz, I could never forgive myself if I killed you! I can never forgive myself for hurting you. And you let me. You barely fought back. Why?”

“Barely fought back?” Kaz echoed. “Look at yourself, Jordie, your face is still dripping blood. I’ve broken at least two of your bones, and you call that barely fighting back? If that’s so little, perhaps I’ve been learning to fight all wrong and should have been taking lessons on a farm like you.”

“What’s so bad about farms?”

“I’ve moved on, Jordie,” Kaz said and part of Jordie wanted to call bullshit.

“Have you?”

“Don’t act like you know me,” Kaz said, looking away. “It’s been a long time. I’ve changed. I’ve grown. I’m not that pathetic farmboy you took to Ketterdam eight years ago.”

“What do you want, Kaz?” Jordie asked in frustration. “You’re still here talking to me, so clearly you want something with me, but you won’t let me the fuck in, so what do you want ?”

Kaz looked away from Jordie, and Jordie felt his frustration at the brother he thought was dead until just a few minutes ago rise further. Who would have thought he’d be this insufferable?

“You need a healer,” Kaz said finally, ignoring Jordie’s question. “For your hand. And your face.”

“ You need a healer,” Jordie countered. “I… I nearly killed you, Kaz. You could have died, don’t you care about that at all?”

“But I didn’t die, did I?”

“You could have. And I’m inclined to think you’ve got at least one bone broken yourself.”

“I know how to handle a broken bone,” Kaz said, tapping his cane against his right leg, and Jordie found his heart squeezing at the thought of his little brother injured so badly he had to use a cane at such a young age.

“What happened to your leg, Kaz?” Jordie asked.

“A mistake,” Kaz said bitterly. “But I learned. I don’t make the same mistakes twice.”

“Why can’t you give me a straight answer on anything? ”

“Where would the fun be in that?” Kaz asked with the ghost of an almost boyish grin. It made Jordie’s heart hurt. Jordie smiled sadly. 

“No more excuses, Kasper,” He said, using the boy’s full first name as he always had when he was trying to be bossy. “We both need a medik.”

“No mediks, Jordie,” Kaz said, ignoring the use of his name. “We’re getting my heartrender if we’re getting anyone at all.”

“A heartrender? ” Jordie asked. “Why not a healer?”

“I don’t have a healer,” Kaz said simply, rising to his feet once more with the aid of his cane. 

“But you have a heartrender? Do I want to ask why?”

“Her healing ability is passable,” Kaz said, ignoring Jordie once more. “She can fix up your face well enough for now.”

“And your ribs,” Jordie pressed.

“Right,” Kaz said dismissively, not looking Jordie in the eyes. Jordie rose to his feet too and the two brothers began to make their way out of the room. Jordie watched Kaz fix his shirt collar that I messed up by trying to strangle him, Jordie thought with a wince. Kaz straightened his tie and ran a gloved hand through his hair. Jordie made a mental note to ask him about the gloves later, perhaps after he got a straight answer about the cane. 

“So,” Jordie said. “Your heartrender, where is she?”

“She’s never difficult to find,” Kaz said, continuing to give annoyingly evasive answers. The two made their slow descent down the stairs, Jordie following close behind Kaz, half expecting to have to catch him as he picked his way down step by step leaning heavily between the banister and his cane. 

They reached the bottom and Jordie recognized Inej sitting at a table, talking to a boy he recognized faintly from his brief visit to the Crow Club.

“Kaz!” Inej said, standing up, completely ignoring Jordie. The boy with Inej stood slowly and Jordie quickly found himself intimidated by his tall stature. His gaze was flickering between Jordie’s face and the bruises on Kaz’s neck. 

“Hey, boss,” The taller man said slowly, still staring at Jordie.

“Inej, Jesper,” Kaz said. “Where is Nina?”

“The Kooperom, last I asked,” Inej said. “She’s with Matthias.” 

Jordie heard Kaz curse under his breath and Jordie made a mental note to ask about that too. 

“So, boss,” The tall boy, presumably called Jesper, said with a smirk. “Who’s this gentleman you’re with?”

“Jordan,” Jordie said as Kaz opened his mouth to speak. He extended a hand to Jesper. Kaz shot him a reproachful look. “Rietveld.”

Jesper shook Jordie’s hand with a grin, but after a moment the grin faded and his eyes widened. He looked between Jordie and Kaz once more, slack-jawed.

“Rietveld?” He asked incredulously, and Kaz sighed heavily. 

“Leave it, Jesper,” Kaz said, a threat nearly tangible in his words. Jesper raised his hands in surrender, though in doing so, his jacket was lifted to allow Jordie to see the revolvers at his waist. Kaz should be the one with his hands up, Jordie thought, but he supposed he didn’t understand the way this world worked. It bothered him that his little brother seemed so well acquainted with it. 

“Is there a problem?” Jordie asked, and Kaz glared at him.

“Yeah, actually,” Jesper said. “See uh, Jordan, you’re dead.”

“Well,” Jordie said, patting himself down. “Not last I checked.”

“So, boss,” Jesper said, turning his attention back to Kaz. Jordie frowned at the words. Kaz was this man’s boss? Just what did Kaz even do ? Why was the man with the guns taking orders from Jordie’s little brother? Jordie didn’t like any of it, but Jesper continued. “Care to explain? Any of this?”

“No,” Kaz said. “We’re going to go get Nina.”

“And interrupt her date?” Jesper said. Inej gave him a look. 

“Mr. Rietveld here needs medical attention,” Kaz said, and Jordie bristled at the use of their shared last name. You’re a Mr. Rietveld, too, he wanted to say, but he held his tongue. 

“Kaz is right, Jesper,” Inej said. “They both need a healer right now.” 

Jesper looked them both over again, his eyes lingering on the ring of bruises around Kaz’s neck. He grinned again and laughed. Kaz looked as though he might commit a murder. 

“Yeah, I bet.” Jesper chuckled. “Looks like someone had a rough night. Never took you for the type, Kaz. One too many drinks at the Crow Club?”

Jesper looked smug and Jordie didn’t quite understand, but given the utterly homicidal look Kaz was giving Jesper, Jordie considered that maybe he didn’t want to. 

Kaz began walking again without another word to anyone, and Jordie saw him shut his eyes for just a moment as the two made their way out of the Slat.

“So,” Jordie said as they walked. “They’re your friends?”

“They work for me,” Kaz said, not quite answering Jordie’s question. 

“What exactly do you do?”

“Officially speaking, I run the Crow Club,” Kaz said, not slowing down a bit. “And for all intents and purposes, the Dregs, too.”

“The Dregs?”

“My gang, Jordie,” Kaz said, and Jordie’s body went cold. He could easily have believed the Dirtyhands that Bolliger had told him about ran a gang. It made perfect sense for Brekker to be a gang leader on top of being a murderer, the owner of a gambling den, and seemingly a compulsive liar, but not Kaz. Not Jordie’s little brother who got excited at the sight of toy dogs on the side of a street, not little Kasper who loved to watch magic tricks and street performers and always tried to imitate their talents. Not Kaz, never Kaz. 

“You run a gang?” Jordie asked sadly.

“Essentially.”

“What don’t you do?”

Kaz opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead bit down on his pale lip and turned his attention back to the road in front of them.

“In here,” Kaz said, leading Jordie inside a building. Jordie was hit in the face by the sweet smell of waffles and pancakes and eggs cooking and he was reminded that it had been a few days since his last proper meal. He heard his stomach growl and he felt his ears turn red with embarrassment, but if Kaz heard, he didn’t say anything. 

Kaz led them on a winding path through tables and around waiters carrying plates of food that looked downright heavenly to Jordie’s hungry eyes. Kaz didn’t wait around or let them take a table, and Jordie wondered if he’d be opposed to sticking around for a very late brunch after they found Kaz’s heartrender. 

Kaz stopped at a booth table where a couple sat, a frankly beautiful woman with long brown hair sat across from a big burly blond man who looked like he could snap Jordie in half just by looking at him wrong. 

“Hello, Zenik,” Kaz said. “Helvar.”

“Must you come to spoil my every nice moment, Brekker?” The woman asked reproachfully, slowly turning around to face Kaz.

“I assure you, I have no interest in ruining your time with your Fjerdan,” Kaz said. 

“What do you want?”

“Mr. Rietveld here needs a healer,” Kaz said, gesturing to Jordie. The woman made no indication of recognizing the name. Jordie gave an awkward smile and waved.

“So find a healer,” The woman said, already turning back to the blond man. “I don’t see how this is my problem.”

“Do I need to remind you who got you your Fjerdan in the first place?” Kaz asked. Jordie didn’t understand, but he supposed that wasn’t new.

“Oh don’t give me that, Brekker, we made a deal and I upheld my end as much as you did. I owe you nothing.”

"Nina."

"If only you were a bit more polite."

Kaz sighed. “Dearest Nina, treasure of my heart, gold in my hands, wouldn’t you please grace me with the honor of your healing touch?”

Jordie stifled a snort, and the Fjerdan man looked as though he might just finish what Jordie started and strangle Kaz himself.

“Well, I suppose since you ask so nicely,” Nina said with a sly smile. She turned to Jordie. “And for this fine gentleman, well, I suppose I can extend a bit of generosity,”

“Do not flirt with Mr. Rietveld in front of your Fjerdan,” Kaz said, and the Fjerdan bristled. Nina rolled her eyes.

“You’re no fun, Brekker.” She said. “Really, I think the two of you could get along,” She gestured to the Fjerdan man. “You both hate having fun, you’re both insufferable men, you both have ridiculous accents, really you have a lot in common.

The Fjerdan frowned. “You said you liked my accent,” He said in the thickest Fjerdan accent Jordie had ever heard. Nina smiled and leaned over to kiss his nose.

“I do,” She said. “But the ridiculousness is part of the charm.”

The Fjerdan huffed and crossed his arms. Nina smiled endearingly at him.

“We’re wasting time,” Kaz said. “Heal him and we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Must you be so bossy all the time, Brekker?” Nina asked, but she was standing and came up to Jordie. She looked over his injuries, inspecting his bloodied face and crooked nose. “Goodness, Brekker, did you do this to him? His nose really took a beating. His hand too. What did you two do to each other?”

Kaz didn’t respond, he just rubbed the bruises on his neck in silence. Jordie felt a pang of guilt twist his stomach. Jordie felt Nina gently place her hand on his nose, and he felt an intense itching for a few moments followed by pure relief as the pain in his face faded. She picked up his hand gently and he felt the same itching come back as he watched his hand bend and twist and snap back into place as it should be. The pain faded but did not disappear.

“Thank you,” Jordie breathed. Nina smiled.

“It’s not perfect. You’ll have to be gentle with it for a few days, but it’s the best I can do.”

“It’s plenty,” He assured her. “I’m very grateful.”

“Good,” She said, then she turned her attention back to Kaz. “Can I get back to tormenting my Fjerdan now?”

“Yes,” Kaz said. 

“No,” Jordie said at the same time. Kaz shot him a glare. “Kaz, you need to be healed too.”

“I don’t,” Kaz said. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Jordie insisted. “Your ribs are broken, Kaz.” Nina arched a brow. “And your neck needs treating. Please?”

Kaz hesitated for just a moment, applying gentle pressure to his side with his hand. He winced. Definitely broken.

“No,” Kaz said, and his tone was final. “The heartrender doesn’t touch me. She knows the rules.”

Nina gave a half nod, her expression unfazed. 

“Care to leave now, Demjin? ” The Fjerdan said.

“I’m afraid so, Helvar,” Kaz said, tapping his cane against the floor. “Try not to miss me too much.”

“I’ll be in the Crow Club later,” Nina said.

“Why does that concern me?” Kaz asked.

“For when Inej scolds you into coming to see me after all.”

Kaz didn’t respond, he just turned on his heels and left, not bothering to look behind himself to see if Jordie was following. They all knew he would be.

Chapter Text

Kaz entered the Slat once more, limping heavily and leaning on his cane as he walked. He rasped with each breath, struggling to breathe properly with his broken ribs. Jordie followed him close behind, though he’d been quiet for the last few minutes. 

“You’re back,” Inej said, looking up. She frowned as she took in the bruises still littering Kaz’s skin. “She didn’t heal you.”

“We didn’t go for me,” Kaz rasped, looking pointedly at Jordie. 

“You should have let her heal you.”

“I don’t need it,” Kaz said, and Inej gave him an annoyed look. “My injuries will heal on their own.”

“Is there anything deeper than the bruises?”

“No,” Kaz said.

“Yes,” Jordie said, the two contradicting each other yet again. Kaz glared at Jordie. “Broken ribs, I think.”

“Kaz,” Inej said forcefully. 

“Inej,”

“You need to be healed.”

“They will heal on their own,” Kaz repeated.

“Maybe if you stay off of them. And how likely do you think you are to stay on bed rest for a few weeks?”

“That’s entirely unnecessary, Inej,” Kaz said. “I’m standing fine, am I not?”

Inej gave Kaz an exasperated look. You’re impossible, the gaze read. Kaz stared right back at her.

“Well,” Jesper spoke up. “It’s getting late, and I think our Mr. Brekker and Rietveld need their beauty sleep, no?” 

“No,” Kaz said, giving Jesper a look. “I have work to do. Sort him out a room at the Geldrenner.”

“Kaz,” Jordie protested. 

“What?”

“All this time apart and you’re sending me away? Don’t you have a room I could stay in here?”

“We’re all booked up, I’m afraid,” Kaz said.

“Actually-” Jesper started.

“Completely booked,” Kaz insisted. Jordie looked between Kaz and Jesper. He sighed.

“How far away is the Geldrenner?” Jordie asked.

“Other side of town,” Jesper said. “Geldin district. Really nice hotel, though. Won’t you get me a room there sometime, Kaz?”

“No. One room. For Mr. Rietveld only.”

“Stop calling me that,” Jordie said, somewhat petulantly. Kaz arched a brow.

“Why should I?” It was almost funny. They’d had the exact same exchange not even a few hours ago over the use of Jordie’s first name, and now again about his last.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Jordie asked. “Calling your family by your surname.”

Jesper stared. Inej stared. Kaz glared at Jordie. Jordie didn’t look particularly apologetic.

“Family? ” Jesper asked. Kaz sighed.

“Jesper, Inej, meet my brother. Jordie Rietveld.”

Jesper stared at Kaz, slack-jawed, for an almost embarrassing amount of time. Kaz stared right back, matching the intensity tenfold. Jesper closed and opened his mouth a few times, blinking in confusion.

“You have… a brother?” Jesper asked. Kaz raised an eyebrow at him, casting a pointed look towards Jordie as if to say obviously. Jesper turned his gaze to Inej. “Did you know about this?”

“I knew he had a brother,” Inej conceded, talking as though Kaz and Jordie weren’t there. “He told me Jordie was dead, though.” Inej looked at Kaz. “You told me Pekka killed him.”

“I thought he did,” Kaz said simply. 

“But you also told everyone you killed Jordan Rietveld,” Jesper said in confusion.

“It’s complicated,” Jordie said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Kaz, for once, was agreeing with his brother. He was not interested in dissecting his childhood trauma and mistakes with Jesper. Not today, anyways. 

“What about the other one?” Jesper asked, and Kaz sighed. He really didn’t know when to shut up. “Kasper Rietveld, wasn’t it? Is he alive too?”

“He is,” Jordie said, looking pointedly at Kaz.

“No, he’s not,” Kaz shot back, glaring at Jordie. “I can assure you, on my life, on everything I have and everything I know, there is nothing left of Kasper Rietveld.”

Jordie looked ready to kill Kaz. Maybe he’d finish what he started.

“We’ll see about that,” He muttered. 

“Your last names are different,” Inej mused. “But you’re brothers, and I take it neither of you have gotten married and changed your name. Are you half brothers?”

“No,” Kaz said, death-gripping his cane. 

“Then why-”

“Drop it, Inej,” He said, and she did. “Jesper, take care of Mr. Rietveld. I don’t care where he ends up, just make sure he’s comfortable.”

Kaz pulled a wad of kruge out of his pocket and threw it to Jesper. Jesper’s eyes lit up as he saw the money in his hand.

“Yes, boss.”

“And Jordie,” Kaz said. “Make sure the two of you go straight to a hotel. No detours.”

Jesper rolled his eyes. “Boss, you don’t really think I’m going to-”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I think. Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?”

Jesper sighed but didn’t respond. He just rose to his feet, clapping Jordie on the shoulder, and led him out of the Slat. Kaz heard him begin to strike up a conversation, but he didn’t pay much attention. Then, it was just him and Inej. 

Silence spread out between the two of them. Inej was looking right at Kaz. Kaz was looking anywhere other than Inej. He ended up turning his body all the way around to avoid her gaze.

“Brekker isn’t your real name, is it?” She asked after a while.

“Real enough,” Kaz said, echoing what he’d said to her the very first time they met. 

“That’s what the ‘R’ on your arm means, isn’t it? It stands for Rietveld.”

“So what if it does?”

“Nothing, Kaz, I’m just trying to understand.”

“You don’t need to. You know plenty.”

“Let me try, Kaz. I want to understand you, even if you seem so insistent on never letting anyone in.”

Kaz went quiet for a moment. He drummed his fingers on the silver crow’s head of his cane. Inej stared at him expectantly, but her expression fell into exasperation when he continued to not respond or even look at her.

“Will you let him in?”

Again, Inej received no response. Kaz’s lips tightened into a thin line, and the tapping of his gloved fingers against his cane sped up. He was growing agitated and he knew she could tell. How could Kaz ever let Jordie in? After all that time, all the work he’d done to cleverly construct his walls to keep the memory of Jordie out (however futile it proved) he was expected to just let him in?

“He’s your brother, Kaz,” Inej said softly.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“He’s your brother, and you love him,” Inej said. Kaz said nothing and kept his eyes trained ahead of him. “You’ve been slowly tearing Pekka Rollins apart for years because you thought he killed him, so why, Kaz? Why, after so many years of hurting over losing him, are you so insistent on losing him again?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“You didn’t even introduce yourself when you met,” Inej said softly. “You lied to his face and pretended not to know him when I know you remembered him. Now you’re sending him off to the Saints-forsaken Geldstraat. You can’t convince me you haven’t missed him, Kaz. You’ve been out of your mind with anger since you thought he died, so why? Why won’t you let him in?”

“I’m protecting us all,” Kaz said coolly. “That’s all you need to know.”

“Will you not let me in, either?” Inej asked. “After all this time?”

“I’m doing what I have to do to keep us all safe. When have I let you down before?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Inej asked instead of answering his question. Of course I do, Kaz wanted to tell her. With my life, with everything I have. You, and only you. 

Instead, Kaz sighed and didn’t respond. He could feel Inej’s disappointment even though he didn’t look at her. Kaz sucked in a breath and turned around to face her at last. He was hit in the face with a gust of air from the open door instead, and she was nowhere to be seen. 

Kaz cursed under his breath as he picked up his cane and began to limp out of the room.

“Inej?” He called when he made it outside, but he got no response. He sighed again and thought about what she said. Why are you so insistent on losing him again? Kaz grimaced. He didn’t want to lose Jordie again, he was keeping everyone alive. Why was he the only one who saw that?

Kaz sighed and made his way back inside the Slat. Maybe he’d fall asleep and when he woke up it would all have just been a dream. He wasn’t sure if he wanted that or not. Part of him thought he’d go to pieces if he woke up from this dream, if he woke up without Jordie back in his life, and Kaz resented that part of himself. He didn’t need Jordie back. He didn’t ask for Jordie back. He tried to push away the part of him that ached for brotherly love, that ached to see Jordie’s boyish grin, that ached to feel Jordie sling an arm around his shoulder once more, even though Kaz knew it would destroy him to feel not just skin, but Jordie’s skin touch him. His weakness sickened him.

As Kaz limped up the stairs of the Slat back to his room, he had half a mind to think he was going to drive himself mad long before morning came.

Chapter Text

Morning came and Kaz hadn’t slept. He couldn’t. His mind was too full of thoughts of Jordie, of the Reaper’s Barge, of the thought of waking up to find Jordie hadn’t ever been there in the first place. It terrified him.

When Kaz made his way back down the stairs of the Slat, he found Inej sitting alone on a barstool. He approached her silently.

“Inej,” He said when he was right behind her. She turned to face him, her expression impassive. 

“Kaz,” She responded. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not at all,” He said, and he was itching for coffee, or whiskey, or something. Inej hummed and moved to get up. “Inej, I-” Kaz began, cutting himself off. She settled back down into her seat. She looked at him expectantly, her dark lashes half obscuring her eyes. 

“Yes?” She asked him softly. He hesitated. He stared at her in silence, his teeth picking at the skin on his lip. She stared back at him patiently, making no move to stand.

“I do,” He said bluntly. “Trust you. I do.”

“Then talk to me, Kaz,” Inej said quietly. “What’s going on in your head?”

Kaz sighed. “Not here,” He said resignedly. “Too many people.”

“Your rooms, then?”

Kaz nodded stiffly, and Inej stood. She guided him towards the stairs, standing as close to him as she could without touching him. She led the way up the stairs, setting a slow pace he could follow easily despite his limp. Sometimes he detested his own choice to take the attic of the Slat for himself.

The two arrived in Kaz’s office. Kaz settled himself down on his chair, and Inej perched on the edge of his desk made up of an old door and a few crates. 

“So,” She said. Kaz didn’t look at her. “Explain.”

“Explain what?” He rasped. 

“You can start with what actually happened with you, Jordie, and Pekka,” Inej said. “And why you can’t seem to make up your mind about if it was your fault or his.”

With a sigh, Kaz told her everything. Two farm boys from Lij, the death of their father, running off to Ketterdam in hopes of a better life. Jakob Hertzoon, Saskia and her red ribbons, Margit and the warm meal she cooked them. The con. The plague. The bodyman’s cart. The reaper’s barge. How Hertzoon was Pekka. All of it. 

When Kaz was done, Inej was looking at him sadly. He couldn’t stand that expression in her eyes, especially not when it was directed at him. He hated it.

“It doesn’t sound like you had any hand in it at all, Kaz,” Inej said. Kaz looked at her. “You claimed to have killed Jordie, but it sounds like it was all Pekka. You were just there. Just another mark. Why did you tell everyone you killed him?”

“I did,” Kaz rasped. Inej looked at him in confusion. “If I…” Kaz faltered. “If I hadn’t, if I was less- If I didn’t insist on going out, on looking at those toys, if I wasn’t so damn trusting, it never would’ve happened. I was an idiot, Inej, and it got him killed. Or, I suppose it nearly did.”

“Kaz, you were a kid, ” Inej said. “You were what, nine years old? What nine-year-old isn’t excited about toys? What nine-year-old isn’t trusting? You didn’t do anything wrong, Kaz. You were just a kid.”

“If I wasn’t there, it wouldn’t have happened,” Kaz said bitterly. 

“If you weren’t there, he wouldn’t have had anyone to care for. If you weren’t there, he wouldn’t have had anyone there with him. He needed you. He loved you. And I think he still does. He’s not angry with you, Kaz. He doesn’t blame you. Only you blame yourself.”

“Maybe I just understand better than he does.”

“Do you?” Inej asked. “Or are you just angrier? Maybe he’s spent more time healing instead of chasing revenge and hatred all his life.”

“He came here with the intention of revenge,” Kaz reminded her. “He was going to kill me, Inej. He tried to kill me.”

“And for once in your life, you aren’t angry,” Inej mused. “If I didn’t come in when I did, what would have happened, Kaz? Would you be dead right now? Back on your way to the Reaper’s Barge?”

Kaz flinched at her words and didn’t respond. He clenched his jaw as she continued.

“Would you have fought back? Picked up your cane and had the sense to use it? Or would you have just stood there? It seemed to me like you were giving up. Since when does Kaz Brekker give up?”

“I wasn’t giving up, ” Kaz sneered. 

“Then what were you doing?”

“Have you never lost a fight before?” He said. “I assure you, even I’m capable of losing from time to time.”

“To an untrained farmboy who’s never fought in his life?” Inej asked. “When you had a cane in your hand and several knives under your clothes? I don’t think so.”

“Consider me sentimental,” Kaz said. “Maybe I just didn’t feel like crushing my only family’s head in.”

“So you do care,” Inej said.

“I never said I didn’t.”

“But you sure do like to act like it.”

“You know me well enough by now, my darling Inej, to know how I am.”

“ Saints, do I.”

Kaz smiled sardonically. Inej returned it, though her smile held more warmth than his. 

“Are you satisfied?” Kaz asked. “Have I proved my trust well enough to you?”

“Not quite,” Inej said with a smile. “I still have a few questions for you.”

Kaz sighed. “So be it,” He said. Inej smiled wider.

“You still haven’t explained why you won’t let Jordie in,” She said. “Why you sent him off to the Geldrenner, why you lied to his face when you met.”

Kaz groaned and clutched his cane. “You never can ask easy questions, can you?” He asked, and the glint in her eyes was enough to tell him no. “ Ghezen, there are so many reasons, Inej.”

“Start with one, then.”

“I’m keeping him alive,” He said, and she frowned. 

“You said that already,” Inej said. “Explain.”

“Pekka will notice him,” Kaz rasped. “Or someone will notice him. I can’t let anyone get too close to me. The moment someone thinks I care about someone they’ll use them as leverage against me. If Jordie is going to last a damn week in this Saints-forsaken city, he can’t have any ties to me.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to send him away,” Inej pointed out. “Plenty of people come and go in the Slat, and you talk to and make deals with plenty more. Nobody will notice one extra person coming through.”

Kaz looked away, and Inej followed his gaze to the corner where the wall met the floor. He was avoiding her gaze and not even trying to hide it.

“But there’s more, isn’t there?” She coaxed, and he nodded slowly. 

“I’m still the one who nearly killed him,” He rasped, the burn of his voice even more noticeable than usual. “No matter what you say, I’m the reason he got sick. I’m the reason we ended up on the bodymen’s cart. I’m the reason we were separated. He will never forgive me for that. And even if that weren’t the case, even though Jordie lived, I still killed his little brother.”

“What do you mean?” Inej said. “You are his little brother.”

“His Kasper Rietveld died in the harbor,” Kaz said, voice barely a whisper. “And Kaz Brekker was the one to crawl out of it.”

Realization dawned on Inej’s face. 

“Saints, Kaz,” She whispered. “You are Kasper Rietveld.”

Kaz smiled grimly. “I didn’t lie when I said I killed both Rietveld boys. I was wrong about one of them, but nothing remains of Kasper Rietveld. Jordie’s little brother is long gone and as soon as he realizes it and accepts it, he’ll be heading back to his little farm without hesitation.”

“Saints, Kaz,” Inej said again, and Kaz wondered what she was going to say next. “Why must you be so dramatic?”

Kaz laughed abruptly, a hoarse, broken thing. His laughter contained little humor, but she laughed with him. Her laugh was warm and sweet. Like honey, he thought. Like mead. He could lose himself in her laughter. He wanted to lose himself in her laughter. It took all of his self control to maintain his composure. 

“I suppose I am, aren’t I?” He said as she continued to laugh. Ghezen, he was whipped for that laugh. 

A strand of Inej’s hair fell from her braid into her face, and without thinking, Kaz raised a gloved hand and tucked it back behind her ear. He froze suddenly, realizing what he’d done. His body went stiff and he averted his gaze.

When Kaz looked back at her, his heart stopped. She was looking right into his eyes, her skin flushed ever so slightly red. She offered him a small, gentle, genuine smile. Warmth was pooling in her deep brown eyes and Kaz thought he was drowning. Not in the harbor, not in the water, but in her. In the sweet gaze she extended to him, in the warm smile on her lips, in the pink dusting her cheeks. He never knew drowning to feel so warm, so pleasant, and yet so much more terrifying than any other he’d experienced. 

She slowly and tenderly extended a hand out towards his, towards the gloved hand that had ever so lightly brushed against her cheek when he tucked her hair away. She stopped the movement a mere inch away from making contact, leaving her palm up, an open invitation. He accepted.

Kaz slowly settled his gloved hand into her’s, and he felt her small, dextrous fingers wrap around his. His breathing hitched. He could feel the warmth of her skin begin to seep through the thin leather of his gloves. She was so warm and gentle and alive. He could feel her pulse through her fingertips, the way her heart was racing, and he didn’t need to feel his neck to know his was too. 

Kaz reached his other hand out to cup Inej’s hand between his. Her warmth was swallowing him whole, overwhelming and comforting all at once, and for just a heartbeat, for just this small moment, Kaz found himself feeling- Ghezen, he felt happy. When was the last time he felt that way?

Kaz’s eyes found Inej’s, and the two stared at each other, not speaking. Inej’s face was flushed a deep red, and Kaz could feel the warmth spreading to his ears that warned him that his pale Kerch skin had gone an embarrassing shade of pink. He was too far gone to care, though. His only thoughts were of the warmth radiating from her hands, of the way her heartbeat fluttered and raced through her fingertips. How soft she was. How alive she was.

“Thank you,” Inej whispered.

“For what?”

“For trusting me,” She said. “For opening up. I know that was hard, Kaz. And I know I pushed you. So thank you. Thank you for letting yourself be here with me.”

Kaz didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t. He let his gaze drop softly back down to their hands. Gently, he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. He heard her sigh in relaxation. He could die here , he realized. And he would do so with no regrets. He’d never felt that way before.

Kaz stared at Inej’s hand cupped between his. He longed to lift it to his mouth, to press his pale lips to her knuckles, to let her see and feel how much he cared for her, but he didn’t.

Another time, he vowed to himself. Another time.

Chapter Text

Jordie wasn’t happy about being sent all the way to the other side of the city, but he had to admit he’d never slept on such a comfortable bed in his life. The Geldrenner hotel was remarkably lavish, and a part of him was shocked that his brother had been able to pay for Jordie to have this room so easily. If only they’d discovered whatever hidden talents Kaz possessed that gained him this fortune sooner. 

Jordie didn’t have anything with him. He came to Ketterdam with nothing but the clothes on his back and a few kruge in his pocket, just enough to buy bread for one or two days. He hadn’t planned to stay long, his intention was to find Dirtyhands, kill him, and be on his way. He never thought his little revenge mission would turn into a reunion with his dead little brother, and now, he wasn’t sure he’d ever find it in himself to go back home. Would Kaz mind if he moved to Ketterdam? Or maybe Kaz could move out to the farm with Jordie? But that was wishful thinking. This new version of Kaz, this Brekker he’d molded himself into, would never follow Jordie out to a sad little farmhouse. He had a life here. A life that Jordie wasn’t a part of. 

Still, Jordie was determined to carve out a place in his little brother’s life, whether he liked it or not. So, Jordie was on his way out of the Geldrenner. The moment he stepped outside, he was quickly reminded of just how lost he was in the city. The area around the hotel was much nicer than the part of the city Kaz lived in. The buildings were bigger, cleaner, and there was more space everywhere. It wasn’t like the bustling, crowded streets that surrounded the Slat. 

Jordie began walking down the street beside the canal. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was going. He spotted a man walking on the opposite side of the street, and he ran up to him.

“Excuse me, sir,” Jordie said. The man stopped. “I’m looking for the Crow Club, could you point me in that direction? I’m not from around here.”

The man laughed. “You’re a long way from the Barrel, boy,” He said. “Barrel’s that way,” He pointed in a vague direction across the canal. “Between the Staves.”

Jordie nodded as if he understood. He didn’t, but it was fine. “Thank you, sir,” He said politely. The man nodded, and Jordie was on his way. 

Jordie walked in the general direction the man sent him in, crossing canals and busy streets until the houses and businesses grew smaller and the streets grew tighter. Finding his way around was a lot harder without Jesper or Kaz guiding him. 

Jordie paused every now and then to ask a stranger for directions, and eventually, he found himself on a street he recognized. He located the Crow Club at last and made his way inside. He was overwhelmed immediately by the sounds and smells and sights of the club. Who in Ghezen’s name is gambling so early in the morning? He wondered, but evidently, plenty of people were. 

He spotted Jesper leaning back in a chair at a table. He was notably not holding a hand of cards, but he was acting as though he was part of the game. There was a revolver on the table in front of him, and it rubbed Jordie the wrong way how little anyone seemed to care about the presence of a gun. 

Jordie approached Jesper, and he looked up. 

“Jordie!” Jesper said with a casual smile. Jordie smiled back. He liked Jesper, he decided, even though he carried guns around and could probably kill Jordie with little thought. “How’d you sleep?”

“Never been so comfortable in my life,” Jordie admitted with a laugh.

“Saints, I bet,” Jesper said. “Back when I was living at the Slat, I would have killed for a night at the Geldrenner. Course, Kaz never offered me a room.” He winked at Jordie. “He cares, you know. He doesn’t seem like he does, but that’s just Kaz. If he didn’t care, he’d have refused to see you or had you run out of the city, not paid for you to stay at the most expensive hotel in all of Ketterdam.”

“You think?” Jordie said, and he felt himself grow warmer at the thought that somewhere, deep down, his little brother might still love him. 

“Yeah,” Jesper said. “Look, I’ve known Kaz for years, and nobody can claim to understand the man, but I’d wager I’m about the closest you’re gonna get.”

Jordie sighed. He wanted to be the closest. He wanted to understand Kaz. He should have been there for him. He should have been around for all the things that hardened Kaz into what he is now, he should have been around for whatever led to him walking with a cane, he should have been there.

“Where is he?” Jordie asked. Jesper whistled.

“The Slat, last I saw him,” He said. “Dunno, though, he could be anywhere. Might be here, actually. I never know with that one.”

“Right.” Jordie sighed.

“He’ll turn up here eventually, though,” Jesper said. “Can’t trust the rest of us to run the place without him.”

Jordie laughed and Jesper shot him a grin. “So he’s in charge around here, then?” Jordie asked. Jesper nodded, pulling up a stool for Jordie to sit on. 

“Yep,” He said. “Place was originally Haskell’s but it never did well till Kaz took over. I think Haskell’s mad that Kaz runs things better than he ever did. Dregs actually have more than a few kruge these days what with the Crow Club and Fifth Harbor being so successful.”

“So,” Jordie said, sitting down. “You’re all… part of a gang? And Kaz is the… leader?”

“Pretty much,” Jesper said, twirling his revolver in his hand. It scared Jordie a bit but he wouldn’t show it. “I’m not as involved these days as I used to be but I’m still around. I think Kaz is gonna be running this ship till he dies, though. This club’s practically his child.”

Jordie stifled a snort. Kaz didn’t seem like the paternal type, but the thought of him treating a gambling den like his baby was comical, to say the least. 

“So,” Jesper said, a devilish look in his eyes. “You’re Kaz’s brother.”

“Um, yes?”

“C’mon, man, you gotta tell me everything,” Jesper said with a grin. “What was he like as a kid? I bet he was a devil child. Always getting into trouble? Stealing from candy stores? Am I right?”

“Not at all,” Jordie said with a slight laugh. “He was a good kid, actually. Quiet. Timid.”

“Timid?” Jesper echoed incredulously. “Are you sure we have the same Kaz?”

Jordie chuckled. “We used to do everything together. We’d help out on our parent’s farm, well, mostly I was helping out, Kaz was just there to hang out with me. I’d steal fruit off the vine for us to eat and I’d tell our father the birds got it. Kaz always got nervous when I did that. He didn’t want us to get caught.”

Jesper choked on air. “Kaz?” He said. “Afraid of stealing? No way.”

Jordie laughed again, but this time his laughter held more pain than humor. “Yeah,” He said. “And we were inseparable. I think there wasn’t a single moment he wasn’t with me. I’d always have my arm over his shoulder and I’d act like I was so much bigger than he was. It pissed him off.”

“Saints, if I tried to put my arm around him, he’d cut it off,” Jesper breathed. “I have half a mind to be jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“I always thought of him like a brother, you know,” Jesper said wistfully. “I’ve known him for so long, and he’s never even called me his friend, but I think he feels the same, sometimes.” Jesper went quiet for a moment before he added, “You know, he once called me by your name.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Jesper said. “It was an accident. He was angry. Like, really angry. And he snapped at me and called me Jordie. He didn’t even realize he did it until I asked who Jordie was. He didn’t tell me, then, but I guess in a weird way, maybe it means I do actually mean something to him. I dunno. Maybe I’m reading too far into it, but knowing who you are now, it feels like it matters, you know?”

Jordie nodded slowly. “Yeah,” He whispered, nearly drowned out by the sounds of the club.

“Did he wear the gloves as a kid?” Jesper asked, back to joking and prying and questioning. 

“Uh, no,” Jordie said. “I was actually meaning to ask about that. Why does he wear the gloves?”

Jesper snorted. “Saints know,” He said. “But you’ve heard the rumors, yeah?”

Jordie nodded hesitantly. “Some of them, I think,” He said. “Bolliger mentioned-”

“Bolliger?” Jesper cut Jordie off. Jordie blinked at him. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jordie said. “Just some guy that’s been staying at my house. Anyways, he-”

“Big Bolliger’s alive?”

“Um… yes,” Jordie said. “You know him?” He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Bolliger knew Kaz, and it sounded like he’d been part of his gang, so of course he would know Jesper. Ghezen. 

“Sorry, wait, Bolliger lives with you?”  

“Just, um, temporarily,” Jordie said. “He was hurt, so-”

“Saints, of course, he was hurt, Kaz had him shot, ” Jesper said. Jordie flinched. Bolliger had told him about that, but it somehow didn’t sink in that the Dirtyhands that Bolliger said had him shot was Kaz.

“Why did he do it?” Jordie asked.

“Bolliger betrayed us,” Jesper sighed sadly. “Started doing work for a rival gang. Kaz found out and had him shot in front of everyone, then told him if he survived he had to leave Ketterdam and never show his face again. Damn shame, too, I liked the guy. He was good at Three Man Bramble.” Jesper paused for a moment before turning dead serious. “Jordie, you can’t tell Kaz you know Bolliger. He can’t know he’s alive.”

“What will he do if he finds out?”

“Saints know, Jordie, just don’t tell him. Don’t say a word. Kaz can’t find out.”

“Can’t find out what?” A voice rasped behind them. Both boys whipped around to find themselves face-to-face with Kaz. Jordie gulped.

“Boss, we were just looking for you!” Jesper said with a nervous grin. Kaz arched a brow, his fingers drumming on his crow’s head cane. 

“Keeping secrets, are we, Jesper?” Kaz asked, his voice rough as stone. 

“Not at all, boss,” Jesper lied. Kaz turned his gaze to Jordie. 

“Anything you want to tell me, Jordie?”

“Nope,” Jordie said nervously. “But uh, I’ve actually been meaning to ask you-”

“Where is he?” Kaz asked flatly, cutting Jordie off. Jordie and Jesper shared a look.

“What do you mean?” Jordie asked. 

“Where is who?” Jesper added.

“If you intend to keep secrets from me, then discussing them in the middle of my club may not be the best choice,” Kaz said, and Jordie flushed. Ghezen, that had been stupid. “So,” Kaz continued. “Where is he?”

Jordie and Jesper were both quiet for a moment, not meeting Kaz’s harsh stare. Kaz arched his brow again, his patience evidently running thin. 

“Don’t hurt him,” Jordie whispered. “Please. You’ve hurt him enough, haven’t you? And he’s out of the city. He’s gone, he’s not coming back.”

“Where is he?” Kaz repeated. 

Jordie sighed. “He’s in a farming town, Kaz, far away from here. Nowhere near Ketterdam, I promise.”

“In your farming town, Jordie?” Kaz asked. Jordie didn’t reply. “And in your own home, no less?”

Jordie remained silent, eyes darting between Kaz and Jesper. He didn’t know what to say.

“Jordie’s right, Kaz,” Jesper said. “Bolliger’s been punished enough, hasn’t he? I mean come on, the man was shot for Saint’s sake. And you left him bleeding out in the streets. Isn’t that enough?”

“I’m not going to go looking for him,” Kaz rasped. Jordie and Jesper breathed a collective sigh of relief. “I told him to disappear, and he did.”

“Then why ask where he was?” Jordie asked.

“To make sure he kept his side of the deal,” Kaz said simply. Some deal, Jordie thought bitterly. It’s not much of a deal if you’re threatening him with death. Jordie said nothing. 

“So, boss,” Jesper said, his grin returned to his face. “Why don’t you join us? We’ve been having the most riveting conversation about-”

“I don’t believe you’re allowed at my tables anymore, Jesper,” Kaz said, cutting him off. Jesper groaned.

“Come on, boss, I’m not even playing!” 

Kaz raised both eyebrows at him, and Jesper tossed his head back with a sigh. His hat nearly slipped from his head before he sat up straight again. 

“Rules are rules, Jesper,” Kaz said, and Jesper reluctantly stood up. He stepped back a few paces.

“Not at a table anymore, am I?” Jesper said with a teasing grin on his lips. Kaz looked like he was either going to roll his eyes or roll Jesper’s head. Instead, Kaz picked up a deck of cards still inside its cardboard box and threw it to Jesper. Jesper caught it instinctively and looked at Kaz.

“Go play cards with your boyfriend instead,” Kaz said. 

“Oh, you know me, boss,” Jesper said. “Never can resist a good game of strip poker.”

Jordie felt his ears turn red. Kaz didn’t react. 

“I’m sure you and your merchling will have fun with that,” He said flatly. “Now get out of my club.”

With a wink and a tip of his hat, Jesper did just that, walking with a spring in his step out of the Crow Club. Jordie looked up at Kaz. 

“What was that for?” Jordie asked.

“It’s the easiest way to get rid of him,” Kaz said simply. “Offer him cards and he’ll follow anywhere. Like a dog.”

“No, I mean, why  did you kick him out?”

“He’s a gambling addict,” Kaz said. “He’s banned from my tables. His merchling boyfriend never leaves him with enough money to do too much damage, but I’m not taking my chances with him.”

“Because you care about him?” Jordie said, wondering if he was pushing a line with Kaz. Kaz shot him a look. 

“He’s one of my own,” Kaz said simply. “He became my responsibility the day he took the tattoo.”

“Tattoo?”

Kaz lifted his sleeve with a gloved hand and Jordie saw what he meant. On Kaz’s pale forearm was a black tattoo of a crow and a cup. 

“The Dregs tattoo,” Kaz explained, sensing the question on Jordie’s lips. “We all have it.”

“Do you have any other tattoos?” Jordie asked as Kaz lowered his sleeve once more. Kaz’s lips tightened. He was quiet for a moment.

“Yes,” He rasped. “One.” 

“What is it?”

Kaz didn’t respond for a few breaths too long. He looked away, not meeting Jordie’s gaze. Jordie followed his eyes as they scanned the Crow Club and all of its patrons. 

“Another time,” Kaz rasped. “I will show you.”

Jordie felt his heart swell. Another time. Kaz would continue seeing him, then. Kaz would continue letting Jordie into his life. The two would continue getting to know each other. Thank Ghezen and all Saints above, he thought. Maybe not all was lost for them.

“Another time,” Jordie agreed, and for a moment, he thought he almost saw Kaz smile at him.

Chapter Text

Kaz was alone with Jordie in the Crow Club. Well, nobody was ever alone in the Crow Club, but the conversation was narrowed down to just the two of them. A silence was stretching between the two, and the apprehensive look on Jordie’s face told Kaz he thought he was about to be sent away.

“I have errands to run,” Kaz said, and Jordie took it like the invitation that it was. Kaz promptly began to walk out of the Crow Club, leaning heavily on his cane as he fought the pain coming from both his leg and his ribs. Jordie followed him close behind, eyeing his cane noticeably. 

“Where are we going?” Jordie asked, and if Kaz were just a bit meaner he’d make a comment about how he never really invited Jordie to accompany him. He didn’t say a word.

“First, the Slat,” Kaz said. Then his features twisted into a grin. “Then to the Van Eck Mansion. We have a game of strip poker to crash.”

…

The two arrived at the Slat quickly, and Kaz pushed inside without second thought. He locked eyes with Inej, perched on a barstool next to Nina. Both had a cup in hand. Kaz approached them, Jordie in tow.

“Brekker!” Nina said with a taunting smile. “You never came to see me.”

“No,” He said. “Is that a problem?”

“For you, it just might be.”

“None of your concern, heartrender. I’m here for Inej.”

“Oh, my apologies, not trying to interrupt your date.” Nina smiled wolfishly, taking a sip from her drink. Kaz wondered how upset Inej would be if he bashed Nina’s head in with his cane. Inej choked on her drink, ears flushed slightly red, and Kaz very decidedly chose not to pay attention.

“How are you both?” Inej asked, recovering her dignity. 

“We’re fine,” Kaz said brusquely. Jordie side-eyed him.

“ He still needs to be healed,” Jordie said pointedly, looking between Kaz and Nina. Kaz arched a brow at him.

“Ready and waiting for you, darling,” Nina said teasingly to Kaz. Kaz was seriously considering bashing her head in. 

“If your Fjerdan doesn’t give you enough attention, just say so.”

Nina huffed. “He gives me plenty of attention, I’ll have you know. You’re just jealous that Matthias and I are living our best lives, deep in love.”

“If you’re so in love, why not go be with him?”

“Because, Brekker, I’m too busy with the other love of my life.” Nina took Inej’s hand in hers. “My platonic wife. Oh, sorry, it doesn’t upset you that I’m married to your girlfriend, does it?”

Kaz tightened his grip on his cane. “She isn’t my girlfriend,” He said as calmly as he could. He felt a faint bit of heat rise into the tips of his ears. Ghezen. Nina shot him a knowing look with a raise of her eyebrows. Kaz was beginning to regret his choice to bring a heartrender into the Dregs. 

“Sure, Brekker.” Nina grinned. Kaz made the mistake of looking at Jordie. Oh, Ghezen, he’d never looked more like an annoying older brother in his life. He raised his eyebrows at Kaz, his gaze darting between him and Inej. He wore the most idiotic smirk Kaz had seen in his life. He had half a mind to punch him. 

“What do you need, Kaz?” Inej asked, her face visibly redder. 

“Where is Marya Hendriks today?”

“Why are you looking for Marya?”

“I need her for important business I have with our favorite Van Eck.”

“Well the competition isn’t exactly stiff for that title,” Inej said with that laugh that always drove Kaz absolutely insane . Nina’s eyes immediately darted to Kaz’s face. Saints.

“Where is she?” Kaz asked, ignoring Nina and definitely ignoring the growing warmth in his chest.

“Running errands,” Inej said. “She’s been doing well these days. She leaves the mansion more, and she’s been helping Wylan and Jesper out with a lot of their work. She’s making really good progress.”

“Yes, yes, we’re all very happy for her,” Kaz said, not looking happy in the slightest. “How long has she been out?”

“Not long,” Inej said. “She’ll probably be busy for a little while longer.”

“Good,” Kaz said. “Thank you, Inej, that will be all.”

“You’re not going to ask where to find her?”

“I don’t need to know where she is,” Kaz said. “I just needed to know where she isn’t. ”

Inej gave Kaz a confused look and Nina coughed something into her elbow that sounded suspiciously like ‘ cryptic bastard’ but Kaz pretended not to hear anything. He was already off, heading out of the Slat with Jordie not far behind him. 

“Who’s Marya?” Jordie asked as the door shut behind them.

“The mother of the only half-tolerable member of the Merchant Council,” Kaz answered simply. 

“And we’re looking for her why? ”

“We’re not,” Kaz said. “I just wanted to know if she was home or not before I went knocking on her door.”

“We’re going to her house?”

“Technically, yes.”

“Why?”

“I already told you we were visiting the Van Eck residence, Marya just happens to live there.”

“Right, so that answers none of my questions-”

“If Marya isn’t home right now, chances are, her son sent her off to help out with something, which means he wanted her out of the house for some reason. Odds are, that reason has something to do with our favorite gunslinging gambler.”

“Jesper?”

“You do learn.”

“So… we’re going to his house? Which is also a merchant’s house, and also Marya’s house? Ghezen, Kaz, what is going on?”

“Like I told Inej, I have very important business with Wylan Van Eck today. I just like to know what state I’m going to find the merchling in before I go.”

“Sorry, what?”

“He won’t be pleased with us,” Kaz said, ignoring Jordie. “So do try to appear apologetic when we get there.”

Kaz continued to lead Jordie down the street, crossing over busy canals and smaller waterways as the two made their way to the Geldstraat. Kaz wasn’t fond of this part of town, but it was of the utmost importance that he pay Wylan and Jesper a visit. 

They arrived at the door of the Van Eck Mansion. Kaz looked at Jordie, who looked rather overwhelmed by the size of the house they were about to enter. Kaz began picking the lock, and Jordie gave him a look.

“Can’t you just knock?”

“Why bother?”

Kaz got the lock open quickly and opened the door. He let Jordie in first and followed, shutting the door behind himself. He started up the stairs, refusing to show any sign of pain to Jordie as his lungs heaved with effort. 

Kaz led Jordie down a hallway and approached the door furthest down. He knocked this time, not even bothering to look at the lock. It would barely even need to be picked, he could just push a pin into the hole and it would pop open. 

The moment Kaz’s knuckles touched the door, he heard shuffling noises from inside.

“Kaz Brekker!” Jesper’s irritated voice sounded. “You better have a good reason for being here right now!”

“How does he know it’s you?” Jordie whispered. Kaz smirked slightly.

“Who else breaks into his house on a regular basis?”

The door swung open and Kaz was greeted by a very shirtless Jesper. Kaz paid him no mind, pushing past him and entering the room. Jordie hovered in the doorway, seemingly too afraid to enter into a stranger’s bedroom. Cards were strewn around the floor, surrounded by a mess of poker chips. Wylan Van Eck stood from where he’d been sitting on the bed. He wore a shirt, unlike Jesper, but it was unbuttoned. His hair was even more of a mess than usual and he had a less-than-pleased expression on his face. Kaz turned to him.

“Where is it?” He asked. The three other men in the room gave him a collective confused look.

“Where is what? ” Wylan asked. 

“My hat.”

Wylan and Jesper stared at Kaz incredulously. Wylan’s mouth opened and Jesper was caught half between a laugh and a grimace.

“I’m sorry, did you just break into our house and interrupt us for a hat? ” Jesper asked.

“Is that so surprising?”

“For you? Not at all,” Jesper muttered. To say he looked annoyed was an understatement. 

“So,” Kaz said, not the least bit apologetic. “Where is it?”

“It’s downstairs, you podge,” Jesper said. “But you knew that, didn’t you? You just wanted to come bother us. You left your hat here on purpose so you’d have an excuse, didn’t you?”

Kaz’s lips quirked upwards. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Wylan glared at Kaz. “I need to change the locks.”

“Go ahead, merchling,” Kaz said. “See if you can find a lock I can’t crack.”

“I could make one,” Jesper offered, and Kaz was pleased to see him being less secretive with his abilities.

“But for your boyfriend to open it, there’d have to be a way for the rest of us normal people to crack it,” Kaz said. “Locks can always be exploited.”

Wylan huffed. “Stop breaking into my house, Kaz,” He said. 

“No thank you,” Kaz replied.

“And who is he? ” Wylan pointed at Jordie. Jordie’s face went red. 

“Jordie Rietveld,” Kaz said, and with a sigh he added, “My brother.”

“You have a brother?” Wylan asked, and Kaz fought not to roll his eyes.

“Get the details from your boyfriend,” He said. “I have a hat to collect.”

Wylan did roll his eyes. “Lock the door on your way out,” He said. Kaz smirked.

“I’m afraid I can’t,” He said. “I don’t have a key.”

Wylan looked as though he might just commit a murder. Jesper put his hand on Wylan’s shoulder, and just as Kaz guided Jordie out of the room and closed the door, he saw Jesper gently sit Wylan back down on the bed. 

Kaz and Jordie walked back down the stairs, and sure enough, there was Kaz’s hat on a coat rack right by the front door. Kaz hadn’t missed it on the way in.

“Did we really just do all of that so you could annoy your friends?” Jordie asked incredulously. Kaz didn’t answer. He just put his hat on his head and opened the door for Jordie with a mischievous grin. 

Jordie let out a chuckle as he walked back outside with Kaz. The wind was heavy outside, and it made it harder to hear. That was in part to blame when Kaz had to strain his ears to make out the faint, barely audible words Jordie whispered with a smile under his breath.

“There you are.”

Chapter Text

In the end, Jordie had convinced Kaz to move him from the Geldrenner to the Slat. Kaz hadn’t been happy about it, but Jordie insisted, and when Inej backed him up, well, he could only refuse for so long. So now, Kaz stood in his room in the attic of the Slat, knowing his older brother was just a floor beneath him. It felt strange, having him so close yet out of sight. 

Kaz stood before his mirror and water basin. He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment, inspecting the bruises that covered his neck and face. They would be there for a while.

Kaz removed his jacket and waistcoat before beginning to tug off his shirt. He looked over the pale skin above his ribs. There was a large, dark bruise forming over his side and his ribs looked uneven and jagged in places. At least two broken ribs, then, he thought with a frown. Broken ribs weren’t easy to set. Without a healer, he’d be expected to stay in bed for weeks. Not an option. 

Kaz pulled his gloves off and set them beside the basin. He prodded at his ribs with his exposed hands. He hissed in pain as his finger connected with the spot he knew a broken bone must be. Not good. He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. He felt the air shift behind him. 

“Hello, Inej,” He said, not bothering to turn around. 

“That looks painful,” Inej said calmly. “You really should go see Nina. Broken ribs never set right without a healer.”

Kaz frowned. He knew that already, he’d just been saying it to himself, but it bothered him more coming from another person. Maybe because he knew she was right.

“I’ll be fine,” He said instead. “What business?”

“I just wanted to check in on you,” Inej said. Kaz turned to look at her.

“I’m fine,” He said again. Inej’s gaze softened.

“Not just physically, Kaz,” She said. “Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s not every day your dead brother turns up on your doorstep.”

“If your brother appeared at the door right now, you’d be overjoyed,” Kaz said. “Why is it different when it’s mine?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Inej said gently. “But it could be… a lot.”

Kaz bit his lip and looked away. “It is,” He said simply, rubbing his bruised neck.

“He didn’t mean to hurt you,” Inej said. Kaz still didn’t meet her gaze. “He loves you, Kaz.”

“I know,” Kaz said. He didn’t. 

“Do you?”

Kaz didn’t respond. His hand dropped to his side. He turned back to the basin and mirror. He bent over and splashed water onto his face. He looked up and saw Inej in the mirror, watching him with her face impassive. 

“Are you glad he’s here?” Inej asked softly, and Kaz didn’t know if she meant here in the Slat, or here alive. Maybe it didn’t matter.

“I don’t know,” Kaz admitted, slowly turning to face her. “I spent so many years wishing he could come back, hoping that somehow he survived, and now he’s really here, and I don’t know how to feel.”

“That’s okay.” Inej’s voice was so soft, so gentle . Kaz didn’t know if he could handle it.

“Part of me hates him,” Kaz said quietly. “Part of me never forgave him for being so greedy and so easy to swindle.”

“You were both just kids, Kaz,” Inej said.

“I know.”

“It’s neither of your faults, you know. It’s not his fault he was lied to, and it’s not your fault either. But I don’t have the right to tell you not to be angry. It’s okay to be angry now, Kaz. You were never allowed the time you needed to grieve and hurt. If the only way you can get it out is through anger, then that’s fine. Be angry. Just don’t take it out on him. Or yourself.”

“No,” Kaz said, gazing down at the bruises covering his body. “We already did enough of that.”

Inej laughed sadly. “Saints, Kaz, you’re a mess, you know that?”

Kaz smirked slightly. “My darling Inej, I am well aware.”

Inej smiled and drew closer to Kaz. She looked up to meet his eyes in the soft light of the attic. For a brief moment, Kaz thought his heart might give out.

“You deserve to be happy, Kaz,” Inej whispered. 

“And is that because you think everybody does, or because you’re still convinced there’s goodness in me?”

“Both.”

“You flatter me,” Kaz said. “But you’re looking for something you won’t find.”

Inej shook her head. “I’ve seen it,” She whispered. “When you stop Jesper from gambling all of his money away. When you buy out indentures you don’t need. When you nearly pushed Jordie away to keep him safe. When you let yourself open up with me, here in this room. There is goodness in you, Kaz Rietveld, whether you like it or not.”

Kaz drew in a shaky breath at the use of his old name. He didn’t respond. He just looked at her, meeting her soft gaze without hesitation. Inej leaned in closer still. Their faces were mere inches apart, their lashes nearly touching when they blinked. 

Inej’s gaze shifted to Kaz’s exposed bicep, where a black ‘R’ was inked into his pale skin. Kaz watched as Inej lifted her hand to hover just above his arm. She looked back at his face, and he turned his gaze to look her in the eyes again.

“May I?” She whispered. Slowly, Kaz nodded, and then Inej’s warm hand was on his bare skin.

Kaz tensed, everything in him screamed to move, to get away. He didn’t. He flinched slightly as ice-cold water rose around him, threatening to cover his face, to suffocate him. His knees trembled, nearly giving out, and then he was drowning, drowning, and there was a body beneath him and-

“It’s pretty,” Inej said, and Kaz snapped open his eyes- when had he closed his eyes? She traced her thumb along the long line of the ‘R’ on his bicep, and Kaz was thrust back beneath the black waters. The water was racing, hitting his face, nearly knocking him off the body, the body- the rotting corpse beneath him-

“Keep talking,” Kaz managed through heaving breaths. 

“I always wondered what it stood for,” Inej murmured, and Kaz gripped onto her voice like the lifeline it was. He felt the waves begin to calm slightly. The water didn’t feel quite so cold. “Rietveld is a pretty name. It suits you, I think. Kaz Rietveld.” She turned the name over in her mouth and Kaz drew in a shaky breath. The waters began to recede. Kaz looked at Inej. Her eyes were soft and calm. Her hand was placed gently on his arm- her hand, on his skin- and her thumb was tracing loose circles around his tattoo. 

“You told me there was nothing left of Kasper Rietveld,” Inej said. “But there was this. There was always something. And there’s more, isn’t there?”

Kaz didn’t respond. He was shaking from head to toe, gasping for breath like he had the day he crawled from the harbor. The water was gone. 

“You are more than you know,” Inej whispered. “You are more than this caricature you’ve made of yourself, Kaz. You are more than Dirtyhands, or Kaz Brekker. You’re more than a criminal, or a killer. You’re a person, Kaz, like anyone. Like me.”

Kaz shivered. He looked away from where her hand rested on his arm. She was warm, even warmer than she’d been through his gloves. She was warm and so very alive. She was nothing like the body in the harbor. It was a weak compliment, he supposed, that she wasn’t anything like a rotting corpse, but it was all he could think at that moment, and he clung to the thought. She was alive. She was alive. 

Kaz turned his gaze to look her in the eyes once more. Her gaze was gentle. She smiled slightly at him as his vision cleared and he hadn’t even realized it went blurry, but Ghezen, all of a sudden he could see so much clearer. 

“Are you okay?” Inej asked as Kaz grew more aware. Slowly, he nodded, and he was surprised to find that it wasn’t really a lie.

“I’m okay,” He rasped. Her hand didn’t leave his arm and somehow, he didn’t mind.

“You’re not pushing yourself too hard?”

“No, this is…” He trailed off. “Good. It’s good.”

Inej smiled fondly. Her eyes were warm and sweet, and for a moment Kaz wondered if he might choke on the sweetness of her gaze. 

Inej slowly slid her hand across Kaz’s bare skin, and he discovered that the movement didn’t cause him any extra panic. He exhaled softly as her hand came to rest on his bare chest. She looked up at him, a question in her eyes. Tell me to stop, her gaze said. Tell me if you don’t like this. Kaz didn’t say a word. He closed his eyes for just a moment, willing his heart to calm down under her warm hand. 

Inej looked down at her hand. They were close, so close now. Inej was much shorter than Kaz, and with her head tipped down, the top of her head was level with Kaz’s jaw. Inej raised her head once more, looking up at Kaz. 

Slowly, Kaz lowered his head. He stopped the movement short, his lips barely an inch from Inej’s hair. His gaze shifted to look her in the eyes. She nodded slightly, the barest movement. Gently, Kaz pressed his lips to the top of Inej’s head, placing a soft kiss in her hair. Inej sighed softly, slightly increasing the pressure of her hand on his chest. Kaz did not recoil. The water of the harbor did not rise. He felt safe. He felt warm. 

Slowly, Kaz pulled his lips from Inej’s dark hair. She looked up and met his gaze tenderly. They scanned each other’s faces for any sign of discomfort, anything to indicate that either of their actions had not been well received. They both found nothing. 

Kaz lowered his head once more, this time gently allowing his head to rest against hers. He exhaled quietly. His forehead pressed lightly against her hairline. Her hair wasn’t skin. Her hair was safe. Her hair was lovely. 

“I want you,” Kaz said softly, as he had so long ago, and yet not long ago at all.

“I asked for you without your armor, Kaz Rietveld,”

“Was it enough?” He asked, pulling away slightly. “Is this…” He stopped talking, but he knew she understood what he meant. Is this good enough? Am I good enough?

“Yes,” She whispered, trailing her hand up to cup Kaz’s face. Kaz’s heart stopped. “This is more than enough. You are more than enough. You are all I ever wanted, Kasper Rietveld.”

Kasper Rietveld.

The use of his full name, his given name, was enough to make Kaz melt. How had he ever deserved this?

“You are more than I could ever deserve, Inej,” He rasped. 

“But it’s not about what we deserve, is it?” She asked, and Kaz supposed not. “We’re all crooks, Kaz. We kill and steal and lie. Maybe none of us deserve anything. Maybe you don’t deserve me. Maybe I don’t deserve you. But you want me.”

“Yes,” Kaz breathed. Ghezen, he wanted her.

“And I want you,” She whispered. Kaz thought he might die. “Let that be enough.”

“Yes,” Kaz whispered again. “Yes.”

It was so much more than enough.

Chapter Text

Kaz was running the numbers on the Crow Club’s profits when Jordie came in. He didn’t knock or wait at the door.

“What business?” Kaz asked, not bothering to look up from his work.

“Your name,” Jordie said bluntly. “Why did you change it?”

Kaz sighed, tapping the stack of papers in his hands against the desk. “Straight to the point, aren’t we?”

“I want to understand,” Jordie said. “I want to understand the man you’ve become, Kaz.”

“You might come to regret it.”

“Tell me anyways,” Jordie insisted. “I’ll listen. Just tell me.”

“I’m not the person I was, Jordie.”

“I know,” Jordie said softly. “It’s been a long time, Kaz. I don’t expect you to be.”

“There’s nothing left of the kid I was- of Kaz Rietveld. It was fitting to take on a new name. That’s all there is to it.”

“You’re awfully adamant about there being ‘nothing left’ of who you were,” Jordie said. “But it’s not really true, is it? Deep down, some parts of you are still the same.”

“Are they?”

“Are you really going to tell me there’s nothing at all left of Kaz Rietveld?”

Kaz was quiet for a moment. “Not quite,” He rasped. “There is something left. One last reminder.”

“And what’s that?” Jordie asked. Kaz sighed. He set down the papers in his hands and stood up. He walked closer to Jordie, limping slightly, and moved to loosen his tie. He undid the top buttons of his waistcoat and shirt and began to tug down the side of his shirt and sleeve.

“You asked about my other tattoo,” Kaz said, slowly revealing the pale skin of his upper chest and arm. “I promised I’d show you.”

Jordie watched as Kaz pulled his sleeve down further, revealing the black ‘R’ inked into his bicep. Jordie stared at it for a moment.

“And it… it stands for-”

“Rietveld, yes,” Kaz said, pulling his shirt back up. “That’s all that’s left of your Kaz, Jordie. That’s it.”

“But you care,” Jordie breathed. “Enough to get it tattooed on you.”

“We all have our weaknesses,” Kaz rasped. “Even me.”

“You think wanting to remember your family is a weakness?”

“What else is it?”

“Human, Kaz,” Jordie said. “It’s just human.”

“Humanity is a weakness,” Kaz sneered. “One most would tell you I don’t have.”

“But that’s not true, is it?” Jordie asked. “You are human. You do still care, don’t you? No matter what you say, you’ll always be human, Kaz. And you’ll always be my brother, no matter what name you go by.”

Kaz ran a gloved hand through his hair, looking back at the papers on his desk. He didn't want to think about all of this. Jordie was making him lose track of all the numbers.

“I have a job to do,” Kaz said, ignoring Jordie. It was easier that way, to just not acknowledge the things he said. Jordie didn’t seem to want things to be easy for Kaz.

“Why do you wear the gloves?” He asked, and Kaz stiffened. He knew the question was coming, but that didn’t mean he was okay with it. 

“You’ve heard the rumors,” Kaz said, keeping his attention on the numbers scrawled onto the papers. It wasn’t a question.

“Kinda? Not really actually,” Jordie said. 

“Horrible scars, claws for hands, permanent bloodstains. Pick your favorite.”

“The truth,” Jordie said. Kaz had half a mind to flip him off.

“You don’t know none of those are true.”

“But they’re not. Are they?”

Kaz sighed, turning back to face his brother. “I don’t talk about the gloves, Jordie.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t dwell on the past.” A lie. Jordie didn’t need to know that. “Go digging for your ghosts and you might not like what you find.”

“I did go digging for my ghosts,” Jordie said, looking Kaz in the eyes. It bothered Kaz down to his very core to see those eyes- his own eyes, really- staring at him like that. Jordie was his ghost. 

“Case in point,” Kaz muttered. 

“I do like what I found, Kaz,” Jordie said softly. “I found my little brother. I found you. ”

“You didn’t find your brother,” Kaz sneered. “You found a criminal. A murderer. We both know I’m not what you wanted your little brother to be.”

“No,” Jordie said, and Kaz tensed with the admission. Of course, Jordie was disappointed with what he became. “I never would have wanted this for you. But I don’t blame you. I don’t know what happened to you after we got separated, but I know it wasn’t easy. I know you did what you had to do to survive. I can’t fault you for that, Kaz. If turning into who you are now was what kept you alive, I’m glad you did. I’m okay with having this version of you as my brother, Kaz. I’m just glad you’re alive. ”

Kaz stared at the wall. What in Ghezen’s name was he supposed to say to all of that? He thought about what Inej said to him. ‘ He’s not angry with you, Kaz. He doesn’t blame you. Only you blame yourself.’

“What happened to you out there, Kaz?” Jordie pressed. “What did you go through to turn you into… this?”

“You don’t survive the Barrel by being soft, Jordie,” Kaz rasped. “Nobody lasts long in Ketterdam if they don’t learn to be a bit cutthroat.”

“Not everyone gets nicknamed Dirtyhands, though, do they?”

“I suppose not,” Kaz said, voice low. “But that’s what makes me more successful than them.”

“It’s all about profit with you, isn’t it?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“There’s more to life than the kruge in your pockets.”

“The kruge in my pockets is what got you the nicest sleep of your damn life in the nicest room you’ll ever lay your eyes on.”

“I would have been happier here, Kaz,” Jordie said. “I didn’t need a room at some fancy hotel. I didn’t need you to send me off with Jesper and a fistful of money. I would have been happier if you’d given me a room at the Slat so I could be here instead. There’s more to life than money, Kaz. I'd happily be without a penny to my name if it meant I could be here with the only family I have left.”

“You wouldn’t last a week in this city,” Kaz said tiredly. 

“We’ll see about that.”

“Jordie.”

“Kaz, I’m not leaving,” Jordie said firmly. “I thought you were dead. And now I’ve found you again, alive, and you expect me to just leave? ”

“It isn’t safe for you here,” Kaz said.

“Why?”

“I have enemies.”

“But I don’t,” Jordie said. Kaz sighed.

“My enemies will become your enemies the moment anyone discovers any kind of tie between us. You’ll be killed or worse just for a chance to get to me, Jordie. I can have you placed under Dregs protection but it’s too risky. You need to go home.”

To Kaz’s dismay, Jordie only grinned. He didn’t seem nearly as put off as he should.

“You do care about me.” Jordie’s grin widened. 

“Go home,” Kaz hissed again. Jordie didn’t look intimidated. 

“I’m inclined to think I am home now, Kaz,” Jordie said, and his smile looked the very same way it did when Jordie led Kaz to the Hertzoon mansion all those years ago. The way he popped his coat collar and tried to look bigger than he was, the way he grinned with the thought that we’re gonna be rich, Kaz. It took all of Kaz’s resolve to keep his expression impassive.

“You’ll probably die here,” Kaz said simply. “And you’ll find no happiness or peace as long as you are with me.” Better terrible truths than kind lies.

“You survived,” Jordie pointed out. Kaz frowned. 

“Do you really want to be like me, Jordie?” He asked, his expression hard. “I once gouged a man’s eye out with my own hands because he crossed me.” Because he hurt someone I love, Kaz’s mind added to his dismay. He didn’t mention that part. “I’ve killed more people than I can count with my cane alone. This city believed me when I said I drowned two children in the harbor for fun. Is that the kind of man you want to become?”

Jordie winced and finally , Kaz was seeing the cracks in his tough facade. Deep down, his older brother was terrified . He was terrified of him . It made Kaz feel sick. He kept his gaze level and locked eyes with Jordie, daring him to do anything, to say anything, to challenge him. Jordie looked away. 

When Jordie looked back, the fear in his eyes was gone. It was replaced by a deeply rooted sadness that pooled inside of him. It was somehow even worse to see than the fear.

“ Saints, Kaz, you really don’t like yourself, do you?”

Whatever response Kaz was expecting, it hadn’t been that. It had been anything but that.

“I’m giving you the truth, Jordie,” Kaz said simply, averting his gaze. “You seemed so keen on it, so there you go. Better terrible truths than kind lies.”

“What happened to you?” Jordie asked again, a sad smile on his lips. Kaz couldn’t tell if Jordie was about to laugh or cry. Maybe both. 

“What didn’t happen to me, Jordie?” Kaz responded, entirely unhelpfully. “What didn’t happen to either of us?”

“You can’t keep dodging my questions forever,” Jordie said, and this time he really did laugh. It was a sad thing. It was pathetic, really. Kaz didn’t comment on it. 

“Can’t I?”

“Why the gloves, Kaz?” Jordie didn’t seem keen on wasting time. Kaz frowned again. The little humor between the two was gone, replaced by tension once more. Kaz ran a leather-clad hand through his hair. He was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice burned, rough and harsh. It carried no emotion with it.

“The Reaper’s Barge.” Kaz swallowed. Jordie looked at him, apprehension in his gaze. “I was in the harbor. You were… gone. And I was too far from shore. I couldn’t… I needed- I had to…” Kaz paused. It wasn’t like him, any of this. Opening up, talking about his past, all of it. He detested every word, every breath he took as he spoke. He kept going anyway. “I had to… hold onto something. And all there was in the water was fucking bodies. I’ll never forget what rotting flesh feels like under my hands, Jordie. Now, when I touch skin-” Kaz cut himself off with a shudder. He knew he didn’t need to finish. Jordie was staring at him, horrified. 

“Ghezen, Kaz, I-”

“I don’t need your pity, Jordie,” Kaz snapped, quickly rebuilding his walls around himself. “You weren’t there.”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Jordie whispered. “I should have been there. I should have protected you. I’m sorry, I- Saints, Kaz, I’m so sorry.”

“Where were you?”

“I- I got taken off the bodyman’s cart just before the Reaper’s Barge. I tried to go back for you, Kaz, I swear, I did, but they wouldn’t let me and I was so tired, and weak, and I-” Jordie cut himself off with a sob. Kaz didn’t look at him. 

“Did you go back home?” Kaz rasped, and he wasn’t sure if Jordie heard it too, but to him, his voice sounded smaller than usual. Another small remnant of Kaz Rietveld buried deep within him attempting to claw its way to the surface. “To Lij?”

“No,” Jordie said. “I couldn’t bear it. But I couldn’t stay here. Not after… So I left. I wandered around until I found someone who’d take me in and I worked there until I could afford a place of my own. Then I heard about you and well, here I am.”

“Here you are,” Kaz murmured. 

“And I found you,” Jordie breathed, a tear tracking down his already wet face. “Alive.”

Kaz sighed and looked down at himself. He was, wasn’t he? He was alive. He was here, in Ketterdam, seventeen years old, with his brother. His brother, who was also alive. His brother, twenty-one now, not thirteen, who was right here before him, smiling, crying, and so, so alive.

Slowly, Kaz brought his hands together. He began to gently tug the leather glove off of his right hand. Jordie watched in fascination as Kaz unveiled his pale, bony hand from beneath the leather. Kaz set the glove down on the desk.

Jordie stared at Kaz in confusion as Kaz hesitantly raised his bare hand. He extended it out towards his brother who had the sense to stay still. Slowly, Kaz’s fingertips touched the side of Jordie’s neck, just beneath his jaw. Kaz shuddered and stiffened as he felt water begin to rise around him. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the images away, and then-

A beat. A pulse. The gentle, rhythmic drumming of Jordie’s heart under Kaz’s hand slowly brought Kaz out of his own head, out of the harbor in his mind. Jordie was alive. His heart was beating now, right under Kaz’s hand. He hadn’t known how to take a pulse as a child, not known how to check if his brother was alive or not. He knew now.

Jordie was alive. Kaz was alive. Both Rietveld boys, alive, together under the same roof. They were alive.

“We’re alive,” Kaz murmured, repeating it under his breath a few more times. An unfamiliar sense of warmth, of safety, came over him.

"We're alive," Jordie repeated. Kaz looked at him as though he'd disappear if he looked away for even a moment. He sighed softly with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Neither of us are dead.”