I recently read SoC, and fell in love with Inej, and most of the ships, so here's the first of (hopefully) a few fanfics.
Disclaimer: I don't own Six of Crows or the Grishaverse, it all belongs to Leigh Bardugo.
Inej was only unconscious for perhaps a few days but it was enough time for years worth of moments to fly by in Kaz's mind.
Say you're sorry.
He knew that Jesper was worried about him, and that even that hulking brute Matthias eyed him suspiciously as they spoke, laughed, joked about the very real possibility of their imminent deaths. He also knew that even whilst they threatened to hire each other's ghosts, the closest to death out of all of them was the Wraith herself.
The feeling of Death hanging over the ship like a mourning veil did nothing to dissuade his fears.
He hadn't felt Death like this since he was last on the sea - or rather, in it. The memory of Jordie's bulbous, soggy limbs and empty eyes staring up into nothing rose at the back of his mind, and he suppressed the urge to vomit.
Brick by brick, he vowed to himself, just as he did every day in a futile attempt to dispel the image.
But what about Inej? He would avenge Jordie's death; there was no question there. And he knew exactly who was at fault. But he'd taken Oomen's eye, and his hope, and his salvation before he'd tossed the man into the sea, and not even that felt like enough. It would never be enough, especially if his Wraith died-
So who was at fault? Jesper, who had stupidly stupidly stupidly told Pekka Rollins' crew exactly where to find them? Pekka Rollins himself? The whole damn world for tearing her from a loving life and throwing her into Ketterdam's worst? Himself, for not even being able to regret the fact that it had happened, even though and because it had led her here?
I can help you, she'd told him that first time he'd met her. And she was right. Wrapped up in lavish purple polka dotted silks and made up like some sort of Suli oracle, she'd told the truth. Since he'd convinced Per Haskell to pay her indenture, she'd been very useful indeed, and had given him an edge none of the other gangs had. The best spider there was.
And she'd given him a thousand moments in between as well. The image of her shadow on his windowsill as she dropped in to report. The glint of steel as she drew her knives, and the familiar cadence of her voice chanting, "Sankt Petyr, Sankta Maria, Sankta Lizabeta, Sankta Alina, Sankta Anastasia," until she was certain that all her saints were watching her. The reproachful gaze she could give him, that came the closest anyone could ever come to making him feel guilt. The lift to the end of her sentences as she chastised him in Suli and eventually gave up when he grinned.
"Men mock the gods until they need them, Kaz."
He eyed the sky. If he was going to pray for anything, now would be the time. But Inej's Suli saints were just dead people who didn't have the sense to look after their own skins over other people's. Being remembered in this life didn't mean you had any power in the next.
"What god do you serve then?"
"Whichever will grant me good fortune."
"I don't think gods work that way."
Saints, he knew he'd been spending too much time around Inej when she started chastising him for his thoughts without even being there. Actually, he knew he'd been spending too much time around Inej when he starting cursing with "Saints".
But it wasn't like he could help it. She was an invaluable investment, and the keeper of his secrets. He needed to spend time around her so she could describe to him in detail whatever dirt she'd raked up on any rival gangs. And whilst he did trust her, she had her moments where she seemed to hate him for his ruthlessness.
"Greed is your god, Kaz."
"No, Inej. Greed bows to me. It is my servant, and my lever."
It was the truth, or the closest appropriation of it. But he imagined his father's reaction to hearing him say that, imagined Jordie's reaction, and shuddered.
Without meaning to, his gaze slipped towards the floorboards where, below decks, the Wraith was fighting for her life.
At least she hoped she was fighting. With all the fighting she'd had to do in her life, she would be perfectly entitled to give up. But Nina would have told him if she was dead. She would have roared up the steps and demanded they return to Ketterdam, because they needed another spider to scale the incinerator shaft.
No. That was what Kaz would do. Nina would mourn the loss of her friend properly, like a decent person, rather than immediately jump to the next course of action without a moment to let the emotions take hold.
"Say you're sorry."
What had she wanted him to apologise for? There was too many possibilities. Too many thoughtless remarks and vulnerabilities it could be. He didn't know. He might never know.
Kaz Brekker didn't like not knowing.
The lap of the water against the boat ground on his nerves, as did the roaring of Matthias's vomit. He turned when he saw Nina come up onto the deck, and he could have sworn that even Death held its breath as she opened her mouth and said, "She's stable. If she can wake up in the next few days, she'll live."
The lapping of the water quieted, and for an instant he managed to clear his mind of bodies floating face up in the dark water. Death retracted a little. He swallowed, and set his jaw.
The Wraith would survive. She would survive, and save them all again by scaling that incinerator shaft, and then she would return to Ketterdam with them, and be there as they split the reward.
She would survive.
Even if he had to drag her back from hell himself.