It came out of nowhere.
Wylan had been fine, that was the thing. He'd been preparing to go out for a meeting, and he was getting dressed, and then Jesper strolled in the door.
"Looking sharp," he'd said, grinning. "Ready to speak to some annoying, pompous merchers?"
"They're judgmental too," Wylan had grumbled. "Don't forget judgmental."
"Oh, definitely judgmental. They'll be so judgy. Probably judge us for everything. Luckily, we have more kruge than they do, so we win."
"I'm not sure that's how it works," Wylan had said, buttoning his jacket.
"I'm pretty sure it is," Jesper had replied, stepping forward. "But if we want them to be as non-judgy as possible, we should look perfect, and you, merchling, have a crooked tie."
And then he'd reached forward to straighten Wylan's tie, and he'd put his hands on Wylan's throat, and Wylan-
It came out of nowhere.
He wasn't in his house anymore, he was on a boat; he wasn't with Jesper, he was with Prior and Miggson; he wasn't safe, he was about to die. There were hands around his throat, meaty hands that squeezed, and he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe-
"Wylan," he heard a voice say, "Wylan, please, love, you're scaring me-"
But there was no one who called him love, because there was no one who loved him; the only family he had was his father, and he'd been the one to send him on this boat to die. Would anyone even care when he died? Would anyone notice? Would Prior just dump his body off the side of the boat, maybe weighed down with rocks to make it sink? Or would he float, lifeless and bloated, until he washed up on the shore and someone found him? Would they even be able to recognize him then? Would his father put on a show of mourning, or would he just wait for everyone to forget he'd had a son in the first place?
"Wylan," the voice said again, "you're safe. You're in your home on the Geldstraat-"
He'd never go home again-
"-I'm with you, and you're safe. I love you. You're safe."
He wasn't safe. He was dying.
"Please, Wy," the voice whispered, and Wylan tried to place it, tried to connect it to the scene, tried to find the person who might help him fight off Prior, help him get those fingers away from his neck, help him breathe-
"You can breathe," the voice said. "In and out. With me, okay? In... and out. In... and out."
And Prior's grip must have loosened, because Wylan managed a gasping breath, and then another - ragged and too quick, but at least enough to get some air into his lungs. "Good, Wy," the voice praised, "keep breathing, you're okay, keep going-"
And Wylan realized it was Jesper. Jesper, who hadn't been on that boat. Jesper, whom he hadn't even known when he was on the boat. Jesper, his loving boyfriend who lived with him on the Geldstraat, who read to him, who had helped put his father in jail for life.
Jesper, who was really there.
Prior wasn't.
Wylan blinked, still breathing too quickly, and managed to focus on Jesper, who was watching him with fear in his eyes. The fear subsided a bit when he realized that Wylan was looking back.
"Wy, are you back with me?"
"I couldn't breathe," Wylan whispered.
"You were panicking," Jesper said. "You weren't breathing right. Was it- Did I do something?"
Jesper loved him. Wylan knew that. Jesper loved him and would never hurt him.
But Jesper had put his hands on Wylan's throat.
"I couldn't breathe," Wylan whispered again.
"You can now," Jesper said. "Let's get back into our pajamas and go back to bed."
Wylan struggled for some threads of composure. "I'm supposed to meet with-"
"You look as pale as a sheet and about as lively as one," Jesper interrupted. "You're not in any shape to have a meeting. We'll say you're sick. Let's go back to bed."
Wylan knew he should go to the meeting. He knew it was important. But he felt drained, exhausted, like he hadn't slept a wink and then ran ten miles. He felt like a mess, and he probably looked like one, and the idea of getting back into their pajamas and going back to bed did sound very appealing.
"Okay," he relented quietly. "Can you help me send a note?"
"Always," Jesper agreed. "You get cozy, I'll write it."
Shakily, Wylan reached up to tug away his tie. For a second, it went tight around his neck and he almost went back to the boat, but then it gave and he stayed in their home, tossing the bit of fabric across the room. Jesper jotted something down on a piece of paper while Wylan slowly peeled out of his clothes, then he ducked out of the room to give it to a servant to send on. Wylan stood blankly in the middle of the room for a moment, then he slowly went over to his folded pajamas and began pulling them on.
He didn't notice when Jesper reentered the room; he jumped when Jesper touched his shoulder and then regretted it when Jesper flinched back. "Sorry," he rasped. "I- I didn't see you."
"It's alright," Jesper said, his voice achingly gentle. "Do you want to go back to bed?"
Wylan was exhausted; he nodded helplessly.
"Do you want me to come with you, or-"
"Yes," Wylan blurted out. "Yes, please, don't go."
"Alright," Jesper agreed. "Let me get changed. You go get into bed."
Wylan crawled into their bed as Jesper pulled off his clothes at record speed. Between how quickly he moved and how slowly Wylan did, Jesper was in the bed about the same time that Wylan got comfortable under the covers. Wylan nestled against Jesper's side, resting his head on Jesper's chest, and tried to match his breathing to Jesper's steady heartbeat.
He was alright. He was alright. The boat was months ago; his father was gone and would never be able to hurt him again. He was alright.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Jesper asked quietly.
Wylan shut his eyes. "What do you want to know?"
"Only what you want to share," Jesper said. "If you think it would help to talk about it, we can talk about it. If you don't, then we don't."
Would it help to talk about it? Wylan wasn't sure. But he didn't think it would hurt, not with the memories close to the surface already. Normally, he tried not to think about the boat, to forget it ever happened, but he'd already failed at that for the day. Telling Jesper about it wouldn't be too much worse.
"You all assumed I ran away when I went to the Barrel," he said quietly. "I didn't. Well, I did, but-"
"Hey, Wy, deep breaths," Jesper urged. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"I... I don't know where to begin."
"The beginning?"
But was that when he was young and first showed signs of being unable to read, or when he was eight and his father gave up on him altogether, or when his father started looking for a new wife to give him a new heir, or when he married Alys, or-
No. Jesper already knew all that. What he didn't know was what happened on the boat. And that began when his father sent him off.
"My father told me he was sending me to a music school in Belendt. He told me he wanted to keep me out of the way until people forgot he had a son. It was right when they found out Alys was pregnant, so he- he wanted me out of the way so he could make the new child his heir."
Jesper wrapped his arms around Wylan. "Your father is an ass."
"He- He sent two men with me, to take the ferry out to Belendt," Wylan whispered. "And then, when we were on the boat-"
Wylan couldn't say it directly. He tried to come at it from an angle, hoping Jesper would understand. "My father- He gave me enrollment papers, but they weren't real. They were blank. They- He didn't even pretend."
"I don't understand," Jesper said, shaking his head. "What do you mean, the papers were blank?"
Wylan closed his eyes. "He sent two men with me. He called them chaperones. He- I thought he didn't trust me to get to Belendt on my own, but he never wanted me to get to Belendt at all."
The pieces must have clicked together; Jesper let out a sharp hiss. "Wy, are you saying what I think you're saying?"
Wylan closed his eyes and buried his face in Jesper's chest.
"Oh Saints," Jesper whispered. "He- He really-"
"I couldn't breathe," Wylan whispered, and Jesper made a pained noise above him. "I thought- But someone distracted them, and I jumped off the boat, and I ended up in the Barrel. And I- I couldn't go home. He wanted- He didn't want- I couldn't go home."
"I'm going to kill him," Jesper said flatly. "I'm going to break into Hellgate and kill him."
Wylan was pretty sure a good son would try to stop him, but he was also pretty sure his father had been a bad father first.
"He always said he treated me no worse than the world would, if they found out," Wylan said quietly. "But... That was worse. I know people would think I'm an idiot if they knew, but they wouldn't try to kill me."
"Hey, Wy, look at me," Jesper said, jostling Wylan slightly. Wylan regretfully lifted his head to look Jesper in the eye. Jesper looked serious, but Wylan could see pain in his eyes too; he was hurting because of what Wylan had told him. Wylan wished he'd kept it to himself.
"Your father treated you awfully," Jesper said. "And you're right that trying to kill you was worse, but so was belittling you and insulting you and everything else your father did. You're not an idiot. Saints, you broke into the Ice Court and came out pretty much unscathed. You outsmarted your father. If you didn't have your morals, you could be a scarier Barrel boss than Kaz. You're a genius, and you're brave, and if your father doesn't get that, then fuck him. Do you hear me? Fuck. Him."
Wylan lowered his head onto Jesper's chest again, unable to withstand the intense eye contact any longer. "I'm terrified that someday, you'll realize I'm not that special."
He hadn't quite meant to say that out loud.
Jesper kissed the top of his head. "Never. You are that special, Wy. I love you."
There was a time when Wylan's father had loved him. At least, he thought there was. When he was little, when his father still had faith in him, he'd cared for him and spent time with him. As Wylan got older, the care vanished, and the time spent together became something they both tried to avoid as much as possible. But he could still remember when he was little, when his father read him bedtime stories and bought him toys. He knew now that affection had been conditional, and he couldn't help but fear that perhaps all affection was, that perhaps he'd reach the point of no return with everyone eventually and end up alone.
"You don't believe me, do you," Jesper said sadly.
"I believe you mean it now," Wylan mumbled.
"It won't change."
"My father loved me, when I was little. Then he didn't."
"Your father is a-" Jesper restrained himself with what seemed to be great effort. "I'm not like him. You know I'm not like him, right?"
"No, of course not," Wylan said hurriedly, lifting his head up again. "You're not like him, but- I'm me."
He'd been enough to make his father stop loving him. Would he be enough to make Jesper stop too?
"Yes," Jesper agreed, "you're you, and that's my favorite thing about you. Everything about you is my favorite."
"That's not how favorites work."
"It is when it comes to you."
Wylan laid his head down again. "Can we not talk about this now? I'm tired."
It wasn't a lie. It wasn't the full truth either.
"Sure, of course," Jesper agreed. "But one last thing. You said you believe I mean it now. If I just keep telling you forever, then that'll prove it, won't it? You believe me in the moment, and I tell you every moment, and then you always believe me."
"You don't need to do that."
"Well, I do need you to know I'm telling the truth, so I guess I do. I love you, Wylan, and I always will." Jesper kissed the top of his head. "And I'll tell you again later, and again tomorrow, and the day after that, and every day of our lives together, if that's what it takes to get you to believe me."
"You don't need to," Wylan repeated faintly, nestling into Jesper's embrace. He was too tired to fight with Jesper about it, and definitely too tired to handle hearing it.
"I know. I want to." Jesper ran a hand through Wylan's hair. "I'm done now, I promise. Do you want to take a nap or talk about something else?"
"A nap," Wylan mumbled, his eyes already starting to slide shut. "Can you keep petting me?"
Jesper laughed. Wylan felt it more than heard it, a warm rumble in the chest beneath his head.
"Sure, love. Sweet dreams."
And to Wylan's surprise, his dreams were all of a future with Jesper; they were sweet indeed.