[ he’s losing him. who the hell is jordie? nikolai holds fast, careful not to get tangled in his panicked limbs, adrenaline doubling or tripling kaz’s strength. he’s losing him, he’s going to drag him down. jordie. the brother. kaz never offered up many details, but nikolai knows that’s where he is now, that’s who he’s with. how does he pull him back? say something. say more. say what he needs to hear. which would be what? nikolai tries to contain his own panic. fix this. he has to. what if he can’t?
then, his name. keep talking. kaz giving him the key. he sucks in a breath, marvels at how he can’t feel his ribs anymore. relief mixes with everything else — fear, guilt, panic, duty, expectation, all of it a crushing weight. but he’s borne this weight his whole life. just a little more, just a little longer. then you can rest. then you can let go. ]
I need those. [ an absurd protest as kaz lets his shackles sink into the sea. but he does. how will he sleep, how can he be trusted? they didn’t work anyway, not really. he needs the sleeping tonic again, needs to become as a dead man at night. he dreads it. it’s far worse than the peace he felt in those precious seconds underwater. no. he can’t think of that. he has to think of now, right now, this present moment with kaz brekker pulled against him, slowly stopping. stopped. nikolai spurs himself into motion, gliding through the water. he can see his ship. too far. he’ll reach the shore faster, also too far, but closer. he has to make it because he has to get kaz out.
kaz. keep talking. gladly. ]
I imagine you have a damn good explanation as to why the hell you were on my ship. [ his voice is tight from exertion, an edge to it. maybe this is the first time he’s ever been truly upset with brekker. angry. not angry. just scared. terrified. it spills out unbidden — ] I could have killed you. I would have torn out your fucking throat, you — cockeyed halfwit.
[ not his best work, and his anger is somewhat tempered by kaz’s dry, mirthless laughter, a wholly unnerving sound. he wants to hit him. never wanted to hurt anyone less. briefly, he presses his mouth to kaz’s hair, his fear nearly making him weak. just keep going. don’t think. don’t think about what hurts. a burn begins in his limbs, but it goes ignored. no time. still there’s blood in the water, too much blood. fix this. ]
Tell me you’re with me, Brekker. [ he injects a casual cheer into the strain of his voice. he needs him to keep talking just as much. ] Tell me anything. I — [ need you. ]
no subject
then, his name. keep talking. kaz giving him the key. he sucks in a breath, marvels at how he can’t feel his ribs anymore. relief mixes with everything else — fear, guilt, panic, duty, expectation, all of it a crushing weight. but he’s borne this weight his whole life. just a little more, just a little longer. then you can rest. then you can let go. ]
I need those. [ an absurd protest as kaz lets his shackles sink into the sea. but he does. how will he sleep, how can he be trusted? they didn’t work anyway, not really. he needs the sleeping tonic again, needs to become as a dead man at night. he dreads it. it’s far worse than the peace he felt in those precious seconds underwater. no. he can’t think of that. he has to think of now, right now, this present moment with kaz brekker pulled against him, slowly stopping. stopped. nikolai spurs himself into motion, gliding through the water. he can see his ship. too far. he’ll reach the shore faster, also too far, but closer. he has to make it because he has to get kaz out.
kaz. keep talking. gladly. ]
I imagine you have a damn good explanation as to why the hell you were on my ship. [ his voice is tight from exertion, an edge to it. maybe this is the first time he’s ever been truly upset with brekker. angry. not angry. just scared. terrified. it spills out unbidden — ] I could have killed you. I would have torn out your fucking throat, you — cockeyed halfwit.
[ not his best work, and his anger is somewhat tempered by kaz’s dry, mirthless laughter, a wholly unnerving sound. he wants to hit him. never wanted to hurt anyone less. briefly, he presses his mouth to kaz’s hair, his fear nearly making him weak. just keep going. don’t think. don’t think about what hurts. a burn begins in his limbs, but it goes ignored. no time. still there’s blood in the water, too much blood. fix this. ]
Tell me you’re with me, Brekker. [ he injects a casual cheer into the strain of his voice. he needs him to keep talking just as much. ] Tell me anything. I — [ need you. ]