A/n: I saw touch aversion and my mind thought Kaz and refused to consider anyone else but Kaz for today's prompt (and it is today's! I caught up even if I'm writing it at almost 10 pm on the 17th and will likely finish/post tmrw but still! I'm so happy!). Anyway, Kanej is perfect for this so there will be much of that as I can. :)
The first time he'd discovered his newfound aversion to touch was about a week after Jordie had died.
He'd been living on the streets until then, hiding away in a nondescript alleyway, removed from the bloated, dead bodies that still filled the streets, making him sick just thinking about, let alone seeing everywhere he looked. The plague still ravaged the town, and in an effort to avoid any and all people without having a proper home to quarantine in, he'd made that too-small-for-anyone-really-but-him alley his home.
The death of Jordie - and to some extent, Kaz Rietveld - still hadn't really been absorbed by him, mind still processing what had happened and what it all meant for him moving forward. It was likely a defence mechanism created by his own brain that blocked out those feelings and memories, leaving him numb and empty. In some ways, he doesn't think he ever truly recovered, the defence mechanism still running to this day.
So, numb, empty, cold and starving, a little Kaz had snuck out from his little alleyway to see what he could steal in the way of extra layers and food. Long story short, he'd returned with neither, but instead had come back with a new aspect of his trauma to deal with for the rest of his life.
"What are you doing in our territory, little guy?"
The man towered over Kaz menacingly, two of his friends standing a little ways away but still just as scary, if not more since they seemed the same size as the one in front of him now even at a distance. Kaz really hoped they didn't come any closer; he'd hate to see just how big they really were.
"I'm not here to cause any trouble," Kaz had forced out, trying to act confident and undaunted but quite sure he was failing miserably if the wicked sneer on the man's face was anything to go by.
"I should hope not. You better have a good reason for coming here."
"I was just here to grab some food."
"Aw, the little boy hungry? Mommy send you to bed without any bread?" The man's comment earned a couple snickers from the other two, and they came in closer. The mockingly sweet smile was gone in an instant, and the man looked down his nose at Kaz. "You're still young, so i don't expect you to understand how the gangs in the Barrel work yet. But i'm happy to explain. See, each gang has its own land that it protects, right? They own everything on that land, and it's theirs. Now, if someone else were to come on that land, our territory - especially if you want to take something, like, say food from it - then there's a price for passing our territory. A price I don't think you can pay. So you got two options, boy."
His voice dropped, low and quiet - somehow so much worse than if he'd shouted it - as he continued. "You either turn around and go home. Or…" He suddenly grabbed Kaz by the collar, pulling the small boy close enough for him to count the individual dots of stubble on the man's face and the small, dark pupils of his evil eyes. His other hand closed in on Kaz's throat, not hard enough to make the boy see stars, but hard enough for him to gasp for breath. "We make sure this never happens again, using a more… permanent way, you getting me?"
Kaz would have nodded, muttered or cried, "Leave me alone," had he not been in a totally different world entirely. Because as it happened, the second the man's fingers touched the skin of Kaz's neck, they turned cold and clammy, the skin of the dead, the skin of Jordie, Jordie who was now dead, dead, dead, and yet still Kaz's only hope of being saved because he was drowning, drowning and he couldn't breathe, and there was water all around him, he was in water, he was breathing water, he was drowning in the water, using his brother's dead body as a float to escape the water. Dead, drowning, water, cold, numb, clammy skin, blue, bloated, tears or water?, was he dead too?, Saints, where were the Saints they all talked about?, no one was saving him except his dead brother who was dead and couldn't save him anymore.
He hit the ground hard and it took him a long second to figure out what had happened. His breath still came too hard and too fast, and maybe that was why the man had dropped him, saying something, something along the lines of, "I think he gets the idea. I better not see you around here again, boy," as far as his addled mind could remember, before they left him and he suddenly realised that he was all alone. Not just alone panting and panicking in the middle of the street, crumpled on the ground, but also alone in this world. No Jordie, no Ma or Pa, no one. He was all alone.
He'd managed to stumble back to his alleyway that day, hands wrapped in his jacket because he couldn't stand the feel of anything else - not his own hands, not the cold, wet walls of the buildings, nothing without feeling like throwing up - before he collapsed there and finally just cried.
That was probably the moment that Kaz Brekker was truly born. Kaz Rietveld had died a week ago, along with his brother, Jordie Rietveld, the brothers finally reuniting with their parents, parents who weren't the parents of the boy crying his life away in the alleyway. This boy was someone different. This boy was someone with no family, only himself to depend on. This boy was someone who vowed to never let someone else handle him or treat him the way those men had today. This boy was Dirtyhands Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel.
Kaz Rietveld was dead, but Kaz Brekker's life had just begun.
He'd never really recovered from Jordie's death, the event seeming to seep into every aspect of his life, reminders everywhere. The gloves that he wore a constant reminder of what had happened, along with everywhere he looked reminding him of how he'd gotten there, where he'd come from, what had happened to force him to the point in his life he was at now.
He'd never really recovered, but he'd grown used to it, learnt how to live with it. He'd already gotten revenge for his brother's death, and that had helped him start to move past it. But as satisfying as that had been, the empire he'd built in the Barrel, the woman in front of him now, reaching towards him had definitely helped more than anything.
His aversion to touch had never really bothered him, an inconvenience that had taken getting used to, but otherwise than that it didn't change much. With his family gone, there was no one he wanted to get close to anyway. All that had changed when he'd met Inej.
Now he had someone who he actually wanted to touch, to feel her soft, warm skin under his fingertips, even despite the memories that tried to invade his mind every time he did. Now he had someone who made him want to move past this left-over trauma so he could truly give her all of his love, but as much as she encouraged him, he encouraged her. They were two broken halves that together made a whole.
Here she was now, hair open to dry from her shower, that being one of the first things she always did each time she returned from her voyages. She stood before him, the soft smile he'd so missed on her face as she looked at him.
She slowly moved closer, and gently reached out a hand to smooth out the collar of his shirt, her fingers gently brushing his neck and making him freeze. She paused, noticing. Her gentle touch was so different from how those thugs had grabbed him by the collar, all those years ago when he'd first discovered what the feel of human skin on his did to him.
He'd come so far from then, because this time, he leaned in to Inej's touch, the permission given for her to keep going if she wanted to. It was the same dance they always did, small steps to progress for both, stopping any time they felt like it was too much, or they weren't sure and wanted to ask permission before going on.
With the permission given, she drew even nearer, her hand trailing up the side of his neck, her thumb brushing over his jaw until it settled, cupping his face. Both were still and taking measured breaths each step of the way, her eyes meeting his as he leaned into her hand, moving his face towards it slightly so he could plant a small, soft kiss on her hand.
He searched her eyes for any protests, any sign that she wanted him to stop, but there was only quiet love, the kind he missed so much in the long months she was gone, the kind he savoured in the few days she was home, the kind he wanted to give her back.
Her hand still cupped around his face, he slowly slid his gloves off and tossed them aside, reaching up to envelop her warm hand in his. They leaned in, ever closer, hands loosely linked and hanging by their sides. He rested his head on hers, their foreheads meeting.
"I missed you," he whispered softly, not wanting to disturb the peace of the moment.
"I missed you too," she replied, closing those beautiful, long-lashed eyes of hers. "You're the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest, Kaz Brekker, even when you're hundreds of miles away."
He couldn't help the smile on his face. "You've been reading some of the poetry books I sent you."
"Justice is fun and all, but a Captain does get bored sometimes," she said, leaning away a little bit so she could smile back up at him, but their hands remained intertwined. "Besides," she continued, mischievous light sparking in her eyes that reminded him suspiciously of Nina. "You've been so poetic in some of our more recent letters. I thought I might start returning the favour."
"I'd rather hear it from your own mouth, Captain Ghafa."
She laughed softly. "Then I think we know what we're doing tonight. But for now, I don't think you're the only one who missed me. I'm sure Jesper is dying to hear of my 'wicked pirating adventures' downstairs."
Kaz frowned. "He's been spouting off theories of what you've been doing all week, spreading rumours to try and 'build your reputation'. As if he needs to," he scoffed, making Inej laugh again.
"Well, why don't I give him some more stories to spread? Someone once told me the best lies always have some truth to them, so I better go give him some."
"Fine," he sighed. "But Jesper can wait a few more moments. He barely leaves Wylan's side. You've been gone months," he grumbled.
Inej's soft, wonderful laugh sounded again and she leaned into him.
"Okay. I suppose he can wait a little longer."
A/n: These two are cute, but also painful to write sometimes. Hope you still enjoyed it! Nothing else to say, really. I'm gonna go and write today's Whumptober prompt now.
Stay safe and see ya soon.
- CrowofArcadiaOaks