A/N This was originally going to be a giant ass one-shot, but I decided to turn it into a multiple chapter fic. The chapters will probably be shorter like this and there will probably only be like five? Anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Six of Crows or its characters

Per Haskell slammed his glass against the table of his room in the Geldrenner Hotel.

That bastard.

Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel had taken his gang from him, and Haskell knew that he only had himself to blame. The Barrel was well aware of Brekker's ruthlessness. They all knew what he was capable of, and yet, they all had underestimated him.

And Per Haskell was the biggest fool of them all. He had, after all, contributed to shaping Brekker into the feared creature he had become. He had taken the boy in and ordered that he be trained and given some easy jobs to prove himself. He had watched as Brekker succeeded in every challenge thrown his way. Hell, he had promoted him to lieutenant because he knew what Brekker was capable of.

He should have seen this coming, and yet, he could never predict what Brekker would do next. No one could; it was his secret weapon that everyone would suddenly recall in hindsight but forget the next time they wished to take him down.

Per Haskell would never forget the night that Brekker had come to the Slat. It had been a Thursday night, he was not sure why he remembered this but he was sure of it. The Dregs had been unusually quiet on this night, possibly due to the gang's recent drop in morale.

Per Haskell had reluctantly admitted to himself that the Dregs were not what they used to be; feared, respected, successful. It was evident within the shabby walls of his office. It was all falling apart around him. His Dregs had turned to a laughing stock as the likes of the Black Tips and the Dime Lions began to gain more and more control of the Barrel.

He sighed to himself as he poured another glass of whiskey and returned his attention to a new model ship he was building. At least something around here wasn't falling to pieces.

What he wouldn't give to be young again. Those had been the days, when he was physically able to go out and do his own dirty work instead of putting it all in the hands of young thieves.

Young thieves that must pay you a portion of their prizes if they want to be considered loyal. A voice in his head reminded him.

He took a swig of his whiskey, letting the flavor rest on his tongue and burn down his throat. Yes, times were a bit tough for the Dregs, but there was still enough being done for Haskell to reap the benefits.

The sudden knocking on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Come in," he called, loud enough for whoever was on the other side to hear. The door opened, revealing a scrawny, blonde haired lieutenant whose name he could not recall at the moment.

"What business?" it was the typical greeting, of course.

"Sir, we have a new recruit." the lieutenant stepped aside, revealing a young boy Haskell had not noticed. He mentally kicked himself for not noticing him.

It was mistakes like this that got the Dregs into this kind of mess in the first place.

Per Haskell looked the kid up and down, trying to assess whatever talents he would provide. He frowned, there wasn't much of note. The kid was young, no older than twelve, and a little short for his age with messy black hair and old clothes that may have been decent some years ago. And yet, there was something in him, something strong. After another moment of observation Per Haskell picked it up; there was a fire burning in his eyes, something dangerous that was dwelling deep down in his soul.

Now the kid intrigued him.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Kaz Brekker."

"Never heard of any Brekkers around in Ketterdam." There was something unnerving about this kid.

Per Haskell needed another drink.

"I could say the same about you, Haskell." Haskell took a swig of the whiskey before setting down his glass and looking Kaz directly into his dark, slightly amused eyes.

"You will call me sir, boy. Disrespect me again and you'll find death to be a mercy when I'm through with you."

"Yes, sir."

"So, what makes you think that you're Dregs material, boy?"

"Would you like to hear a story, sir? I have many I could tell," In a blink of an eye Kaz had broken away from the lieutenant and shoved the poor skiv against the wall, resulting in a sickening thud as the young man crumpled on the floor. He strode across the office, and leaned over Per Haskell's desk, grabbing a handful of his shirt. Haskell could feel a cool, metallic touch at his neck. That little bastard had the audacity to threaten him with a knife?

"I do hope that you haven't killed him, boy." Per Haskell reached for the pistol hidden in his jacket and aimed it at Kaz's chest. The skiv didn't flinch at the sound of the safety being turned off on the pistol.

"Would you like to hear the story about how I got my first job? How I got kicked out of every gambling hall in the Barrel, or how I learned to pick locks and pockets of unsuspecting victims? They're quite entertaining stories, really." Kaz continued, unfazed by the threat of death poking at his ribs.

Now Per Haskell was definitely interested. The boy was not afraid of death in the slightest.

Even if the boy was exaggerating, Haskell did not doubt that there was some ounce of truth in those words. Though he had to admit that he did want to hear the tale about Kaz's first job.

"I see that you have been in a fight before." Haskell, gesturing his gun to Kaz's nose that had obviously been broken in the past.

"You should have seen the other guy." he responded, his mouth quirked. Haskell barked out a laugh. He liked this kid. This poor, smug little skiv had something special in him, though he didn't look it.

Haskell pocketed his pistol once Kaz had released him, his knife had disappeared as fast as it had appeared and Haskell could not guess where the boy had stored it. He reached out his hand to Kaz. The little skiv eyed the hand before grabbing it and giving it a quick shake before pulling away as if Haskell's hand had been on fire.

Curiouser and curiouser.

"Welcome to the Dregs, boy. Your training will begin tomorrow."