A/N: Consider this slightly AU... I got this idea from the third book was it? When one of Kelsier's thieving crew (Breeze was it? I can't remember) talked about what would have happened if Kelsier was beaten when he was a child and became Mistborn. So I wrote a bromance and sad little One-Shot... I don't actually know if they were beating their children at that point in time in Scadriel... who knows.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Sanderson's works. Not one word. Not one character *sobs over Kelsier* But yeah...
CREDIT TO BLACKSHAFTEDARROW for the title idea! THANK YOU!

Ashes:

Ash fell from the sky. It wasn't anything new; the black flakes always fell. It was how the world was made, and it wouldn't change because the Lord Ruler was gone—contrary to popular belief. And yet every other time he had stood under the falling flakes, this somehow seemed different. It was lonely. The Inquisitor sighed softly, rubbing a hand over his face—avoiding the metal spikes. The Lord Ruler was dead; Vin had killed him. She had killed the immortal being that remade him; remade him into a monster. He wasn't sure what he should be feeling. Happiness? Joy? Foreboding? Anger...? The Skaa had rebelled just as Kelsier wanted them too. They were free—at least from Rashek— and the Survivor had gotten what he wanted. Something of a smile appeared on the Inquisitor's face at the thought of his little brother, though it wasn't joy.
That idiot.
 It hadn't occurred to him what Kelsier was willing to sacrifice until too late. Where had the arrogant, selfish young thief gone? What happened to the over confidence and prejudice? The Kelsier he knew was not the one he met at the lair, where he had said such hurtful words. That Kelsier was gone, gone forever. And it was all because of Vin and the heart of a young nobleman.
The Pits didn't change you Kell, or at least not so much. A small Urchin girl did. And at the very end, you became something more.
Marsh inhaled sharply and bowed his head. If he could he would have winced. Becoming an Inquisitor stole a lot from him, but the pain that came from Kell's death was not one of them. It tore at his heart—or what was left of it—like a knife. A steel spike. The man cursed and pounded a fist into the dirt, pewter enhanced strength leaving a dent. His fingers dug into the ground, breaking through the layers of decomposing ash. The action did little to distract him.
Why did you do this? WHY? He thought angrily and yelled. The sound echoed around him, but he didn't care. All the years he had hated Kelsier. All the years spent convinced his little brother was gone. He ignored the fact that Kell had changed. He had been different. Marsh wanted to cry. But he didn't. It wasn't simply the fact that he physically couldn't as much as it was his anger. Anger he wasn't sure was right. The man—monster— stood to his feet, pounding a fist into a gnarled tree. It shuddered and a crack made its way up the trunk. Any more pewter and the plant would be in splinters.

It wasn't fair, Marsh decided, resting his forehead against the wood. He was mad at Kelsier. Kelsier had left a hero. Kelsier had left them. Marsh had been helping the rebellion and was a monster. His little brother was gone. He had a right to be mad. He had a right to feel this way...
And yet the agony of his brother's death came back to him. I should have been there for you.
Slowly Marsh's mind began to wander. To a day before this; a day in their father's house. An afternoon of many when Kelsier was still there to get into trouble.

Marsh, a young boy of ten sat staring at the wall. His hands were folded in his lap as he remained lost in thought. Kelsier was not there. His younger brother had run off somewhere, not that Marsh knew where. He had no idea. And so with the day nearly over and dinner prepared, he would have thought the little scoundrel would be back by now. Suddenly Marsh heard screaming.
He shot up from his previous position, heart pounding in his chest and climbed out of the chair, jetting for the door. And when he entered into the hall the boy saw something he didn't expect. His father... and a guard. Marsh's brow furrowed. Then the yelling came back. They pushed through the double doors and the sound was like a thunderstorm, causing Marsh to jump like a skittish animal. He watched as the guard dragged someone down the corridor. Kelsier screamed again, struggling against a man three times his size. It was a pitiful sight. Marsh felt his throat drop into his stomach.

"Father what's going on?" He asked, feeling a knot form in his throat. When Kelsier spotted his big brother he gave a yelp and lunged in an attempt to catch the man off guard. It didn't work and the guard snapped him backwards.

"Marsh!" Kelsier called, tears streaming down his face. "Help me!" Suddenly realization struck and Marsh felt sick. Their father ignored it and kept walking, calling absently over his shoulder.

"Marsh, I need you. I want you there to tell me what metal he burns." Marsh stammered and looked at his father and then at Kelsier. Marsh was a Seeker, capable of sensing Allomantic pulses that others would find invisible. The only reason he knew that was because he had been beaten till Snapped. Now it was Kelsier's turn. The older brother froze in terror, tears pricking at his own eyes. It was cruel. The nobility were cruel. His throat swelled.

They needed Allomancer's. The easiest way to do that was to Snap them themselves—as opposed to waiting for them to Snap if they Snapped at all. Marsh only wished he hadn't been able to burn Bronze. Not only was it one of the most useless powers, but it meant he was subject to watching others be beaten. It made him sick. When he had been beaten to near death, it had changed him greatly. It had made him afraid of others for longer than he cared to count. No one should have to go through that, he thought sickly. Kelsier, only eight years old, struggled madly, earning a shake of frustration from the guard—who Marsh assumed was a Pewterarm.

"No," Marsh said evenly, expression hardening. "Father, don't. Kelsier doesn't deserve that. Let him go." The nobleman raised an eyebrow and sighed.

"The demand for Allomancer's has grown. I must know what metal he possesses."

"But you can't!" His father seemed to ignore him and Marsh caught Kelsier's eye. The boy looked at him with the smallest hint of hope. Hope that his big brother would save him. And that decided everything. Marsh lunged.

Even now the events that happened afterwards were as clear as day. Kelsier had not been beaten, Marsh had made sure of that. Yet the day had still ended painfully. Marsh had taken that beating—something Kelsier would never know. He guessed even that played into the fate of all. What if Kelsier had Snapped that day and found out he was Mistborn? Would he have used the power differently? Marsh thought that he probably would have. And if he had would they be stuck with the Lord Ruler? Marsh wouldn't be a monster and Kelsier would have likely died sooner.

The Inquisitor's expression hardened even as his heart softened. They were free... for now, and Marsh couldn't say he would change anything—no matter the suffering. The pain in his chest lessened.

Maybe one day I'll see you again, Kell.

A/N: Please leave a review if you like this! I'd really appreciate it!