timewasting | OPEN POST 2020.

[ she gives him a small smile before taking the shirt, turning to shed the robe and tug on her underwear before pulling on the shirt. it's huge on her, but soft, and comfortable.

once that's done, inej tugs back the comforter and slides into the bed, exhaling slowly. and the moment that kaz is also in bed, she turns to curl up against his side, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

she feels exhausted. and she's certain she's not done crying, yet. she feels an odd weight in her throat again, now that she's comfortable and safe, with him. it should be the opposite reaction, inej thinks in frustration, but she closes her eyes to focus on the feeling of his shirt underneath her cheek.

she's very clearly not asleep, though, or totally relaxed. but an attempt is being made. and she does feel much better, after the bath, now that she's warm and clean and in new clothes.

eventually: ]

I think I'm going to stay in Ketterdam for awhile, when we go back.

[ quietly, as she curls her fingers against his shirt. ]

[ He crawls in beside her and lets her get comfortable before he relaxes. She's warm all over from the bath and it's a soothing feeling, having her pressed so close. The past few weeks seem to catch up in a rush and he sighs, happy that at least the worst of it is over. ]

Yeah? What's a while?

[ It sounds like it'll be longer than her usual stays. More than two weeks, at least. There's been a couple occasions where she's pushed it close to a month. But as much as he wanted to keep her for longer, he knew she couldn't stay.

This changed things. And he can understand wanting to rest. Her job isn't easy and this had been one of the more difficult times. ]

A few months.

[ she runs her thumb along his arm, her eyes still closed, her voice still quiet. it feels scary, really, to say it out loud . . . but inej knows that she needs to heal, in more ways than one. a week in a hotel in ravka is not going to be enough.

then, with a faint twitch of her lips: ]

If you're willing to let me sleep in your bed, anyway.

[ His eyebrows go up at her mention of a few months. It's unexpected but not displeasing. He always misses her dearly when she leaves, after all. ]

I think we're well past simply willing, Inej. [ He says dryly, echoing her faint amusement. How could he refuse, after all? The prospect of getting at least a month of actual rest is enough to make him agree. Not to mention the reassurance that he knows where she is, that she's safe. That a storm isn't just going to knock her ship off course and leave her stranded.

A thousand little worries whittle down to a handful, when she's back on dry land. ]

[ she tucks her head a little closer into his shoulder, but she opens her eyes to tilt her head up a little, to look at him and his expression. of course he wouldn't mind, but she still feels the need to ask . . . which is stupid, in retrospect. but she doesn't really have anywhere to go, in ketterdam, that is hers. and as much as she loves jesper and wylan, she sometimes just needs quiet.

she stretches an arm across his chest to fully press herself against him, comfortable and warm. ]

I don't know if I'm going to be able to sleep.

[ it's murmured, letting her eyes close again as she gets comfortable. ]

But I always sleep better when you're here.

[ so staying in ketterdam for a month or two might just help her heal. ]

[ The arm around her middle tugs her closer, briefly, giving her a squeeze. Already tired earlier, her warmth and low voice make it hard to keep his eyes open. Which he feels a little bad about, because she's had a rough go of it, sleep evasive because of the whole circumstance. ]

At least you won't have to be on high alert all the time. [ Even if she doesn't sleep, just being able to rest would help. There'd be no sudden coming upon a slaver ship in the middle of the night. And whatever business the Dregs had, they could handle without her, as much as she is loathe to stay behind. ]

I can't seem to settle when you're gone. [ His nights are filled with a restlessness, tossing and turning. Missing her. ]

[ there's a soft mmm at that, running a finger along his chest, drawing a meaningless design into his shirt. ]

We make quite the pair.

[ murmured, faintly amused. the two scariest people in ketterdam can't be touched by strangers and can't sleep through the night apart. what a mess. ]

Are you going to take me out to dinner, when we get back?

[ They do make quite the pair. If those in the Barrel knew—well, he doesn't want to consider it. Then again, only the stupid or brash would try their hand at either of them.

And he doubts anyone would want to try them both at the same time. No matter how weak their defenses looked. ]

I can, did you have some place in mind?

[ They've gotten better at that whole going on a date thing. It's been strange to incorporate, because neither of them had known what dating was like. Now they've figured out what works for them, little by little. Though he still usually prefers to have dinner with her on the roof of the Slat, enjoying the general quiet. ]

I never have a place in mind.

[ mostly because inej typically dislikes the whole . . . being out in public thing. and until recently, she never really could afford eating somewhere that required sitting down. she usually just took the food to go and ate it on the roof. which, really, she still enjoys doing more often than not.

but sometimes, the normalcy is nice. it's almost never perfect. and dinner is usually spent creating elaborate stories about the people around them based on what they could see. inej and kaz had witnessed many a break-up and reconciliation, from their dinners. and the odd marital affair.

at any rate: ]

You are the plan person.

[ so obviously, picking out where to eat dinner also falls on him, in the "plans" department. ]

[ He lets out a laugh at you are the plan person, the sound low and a little rough from tiredness. Inej has never been particularly choosy when it came to things like that. And honestly, he likes putting together an idea, finding places that are suitably quiet enough to have a conversation.

She also seems to like the surprise of it. ]

Fancy or not fancy?

Mmm... not fancy.

[ she decides, drawing a circle against his chest, her own tone tinged with sleep. fancy was nice once in awhile, in better chances at people watching, but higher chance at being bored. not fancy poses the chance of enjoying themselves while also being able to not be stared at. much, anyway. ]

Or somewhere in the middle.

[ talking about something as boring and dumb as this is causing her to relax, the movement with her fingers slowing as she talks. ]

Breakfast for dinner.

[ this is turning into another night on the roof, the more she thinks about it. ]

You're circling back to waffles with this criteria, you know.

[ Not like he's going to complain about it. There's a bit of a history with that particular food. Lots of nights spent sitting on the roof of the Slat or in his office, take out on their laps as they talked through ideas.

He also thinks a little bit of Nina, who adores said waffles. Granted, she loves food in general. But he thinks of her all the same, idly wondering if she was doing okay.

Not that he would ever admit to thinking it. She wouldn't want his sympathy anyway.

The conversation turns more and more idle, discussing some changes to the Slat, about how they'll spend their time once they get back. She'll be staying at least a month, they'll have time to do things rather than compress the basics into a week or two.

They agree to stay in the hotel until the end of the week, enough time to rest up and head back towards the coast. The first couple days are up and down; Inej doesn't sleep well, despite him being close by. Or maybe that exacerbates her, subconsciously. She wakes shaking and near tears until he bundles her up in the blankets, talking her through it.

Day three passes without much incident, though neither of them can seem to get comfortable. The restlessness keeps them both up and leaves them drowsy into the day. Day four sees him waking with a jolt, immediately throwing the covers off and hobbling as quickly as he can to the bathroom, stomach giving an unpleasant lurch. Ultimately, nothing comes up, leaving him vaguely nauseous when he comes back into the bedroom, sinking onto the edge of the bed.

It hasn't been this bad in a while. He'd swiped the cold sweat dry with a towel but it still feels like it's sticking to his skin, imitating the unnatural texture of bodies floating in water. Kaz wants nothing more than to curl back into bed but he can't even consider being so close to Inej. Not right now. ]

[ inej is a light sleeper without the nightmares, but it only takes a shift in the weight of kaz next to her for her to blink her eyes open, a little blearily with sleep. but adrenaline jolts her awake, as kaz suddenly moves to the bathroom, and she can hear the retching.

something in her chest twists, as she pushes herself up to sit, her hair falling along her shoulders. she says nothing, knowing that when it's this bad, touching him is a horrible idea. but nonetheless, she's about to get up to move to the bathroom when he reemerges to sink back onto the bed. but he doesn't move to get back into bed properly, or come near her.

so she frowns to herself before gently shifting the blankets, moving to get up on the opposite end, circling around to sit in the chair near the bed, pulling her feet up onto the seat, wrapping her arms around her knees. ]

You should lay down.

[ quietly, inclining her head toward the bed, which is now empty, eyes searching his face. ]

It will help.

[ Part of him wants to sob; backsliding this hard is so frustrating. He'd been making such progress. The last time he had a fit this bad had almost been a year ago. Maybe a little more than that.

Because they'd been careful, adding a little more touch here and there. Both for his benefit and hers. And now here he was, feeling shivery and weak and small, just like when he'd first dragged himself out of the damn harbor.

Inej's gentle voice annoys him, but he bites his tongue, recognizing that he isn't actually angry at her. Just at the situation. At himself, for a seeming inability to get past this. Her suggestion isn't a bad one, once he swallows down the irrational irritation, and he shakily pulls the covers up over his shoulders, sinking back onto the pillow. His heart still feels like it's racing, even as he looks over at her, trying to use the details to ground himself.

When he blinks, though, he just thinks of cold water and burning muscles, of a panic so bright and sharp it had felt like the fever still clinging. ]

[ she can tell that he's swallowing something back, but he ultimately says nothing and does as he's told, laying back down. and only when he does that does inej move, pulling the chair closer, alongside the bed, sitting in the chair with her legs crossed underneath her.

touching him is a bad idea, though her heart aches and she wants nothing more than to climb into bed with him, to hold him, and reassure him that he is fine. but he's still wrapped in whatever he is struggling with, and touching him will only make it worse.

or . . . well, touching his skin would probably make it worse. touching the blanket might be okay, but she doesn't want to risk it. ]

Shhh. [ it's a soothing noise, not moving to touch him yet, her hands still in her lap. ] You are with me, in Ravka. We are going to order blini for breakfast in the morning after sleeping in. We might go to the docks if we feel like it.

[ and, finally, inej reaches out to gently pet his hair, careful not to touch skin, her voice calm and gentle. ]

Whatever is in your mind is something you have already conquered. You already survived it. Okay?

[ The physical part is difficult, but the mental hurdle is harder. Telling oneself to think about something else is almost impossible. What Inej says helps, a better memory cutting through the film strip of bad ones; eating blini for the first time, at that outside cafe.

There's also the matter of her careful touch. An unintentional shudder runs through him when he feels the first brush of her palm against his hair. But it isn't touching skin, giving him something else to focus on. Something that isn't his mind replicating his brother's dead body under his hands. ]

I— [ Kaz pauses, searching for the right words. Not wanting to blurt out everything in a rush. Just enough to make sense. ] —No docks.

[ He doesn't even want to think about them, correlating too much right now. Because he'd left Jordie at one and hadn't been able to go back. Would the skeleton be there, if he looked? He's not even sure which one it is, memory fuzzy. He blinks away the burning sensation in his eyes, pulling the blanket tighter to himself. ]

Yes. [ Well... ] No. I don't know.

[ ah, so the docks was a bad suggestion. she doesn't comment on it again, instead focusing on stroking his hair, watching his facial expression carefully as she listens. ]

We have conquered everything we have ever had put in our path, right?

[ murmured, as she watches him pull the blanket tighter, her heart twisting uncomfortably. she wishes she could make it better, but it's difficult to do so when she doesn't know what causes this. ]

And this will be no different. Hm?

[ almost encouraging, as she gently threads her fingers through his hair, still careful not to touch skin. ]

You might be alone inside your head, but you aren't alone, here. We will get through it, no matter how long it takes. Try taking a deep breath.

[ Something finally gives. He doesn't know what pushes him that last little bit. Maybe it's the reassurance that he's not alone right now. Not like he had been when the plague ran through the city. Jordie had been nearby but neither of them were very coherent. He'd felt alone then, through the hazy fever, and pulling himself out of the harbor had sealed his fate.

She's right, though, and his normal reticence breaks, voice thick as he swallows the unexpected sob. ]

I miss him so much.

[ her heart aches, as he finally says something. Inej doesn’t need to ask who he is. there’s only one person that has such a hold over Kaz that he would say he missed, and inej hums softly, to soothe him. ]

I know you do.

[ softly, as she continues to stroke his hair. and she decides to gently press, giving him the chance to talk, if he wants to. ]

Does he visit your dreams often?

It's never a good dream.

[ He can count on one hand the times his dreams have been of better memories. Instead, it's variations of everything horrible they'd gone through. Sometimes, it's twisted versions of the events, his brother accusing him of leaving him behind. ]

I didn't even get to say goodbye. We were both so sick, I can't even remember when he died. [ But he does remember the realization cutting through the delirium. He hadn't mistaken it for a hallucination, that glassy eyed look so telling. ]

I thought after Rollins was gone, this would get better.

You have gotten better, Kaz. This has not happened in a long time, and you get better every single day.

[ her voice is quiet, and she pauses before shifting her hand to gently brush the loose locks of hair out of his eyes, fingertips still avoiding touching skin. ]

But scars are still healing wounds. And anger and hatred doesn’t let you heal. You need to let yourself grieve, to heal.

[ she tilts her head slightly, her lips pursing together. she only knows tiny details, of jordie’s death. and Kaz is giving her a better picture now... the plague that swept ketterdam.

it doesn’t explain the docks, or why he can’t touch. but he’s talking, and inej is loathe to pry too much and have him stop. ]

It is not your fault that he passed away, or that you couldn’t say goodbye. You know that, in your heart.

I should've argued with him more. When Rollins offered to invest the money, it didn't feel right.

[ How could he have known, though? The only adults he had interacted with up until then had better intentions. The people of Lij had been the honest type, content to stay on their farms and offer the occasional neighborly hand.

Ketterdam had seemed so fantastic upon arrival. He'd wanted to believe anything was possible. ]

We were so young and stupid. [ Except he doesn't sound as angry about that in the moment. Just...tired. ] I wish—either of us had paid attention to dad more, before he died.

[ None of it was really his fault, but there's still the oppressive sense of what if? At the same time, there's a strange relief in saying it aloud. Poison from a wound, as Inej terms it. ]

Rollins shouldn’t have taken advantage of two little boys in a new city.

[ softly, but firmly, and inej unfolds her legs to stand, only to sit on the edge of the bed. she’s careful not to touch him, but she is closer, so she can get a better look at his face, brushing back his hair again. ]

You need to learn how to forgive yourself.

[ for a lot of things, but jordie, especially. ]

You did nothing wrong.

[ No, he shouldn't have. And that's what he'd ultimately paid for. Maybe if Pekka had remembered Jordie's name he would've been less harsh. Maybe.

But he hadn't. He'd crushed the lives of two young boys and hadn't even remembered their names and faces. ]

I left him. [ His voice is quiet, fingers curling into the edge of the blanket. ] In the harbor. They'd taken us both out to that island, during the plague.

[ Was it better or worse not to be left to a mass grave? ]

[ her fingers still, at that, surprised, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

that island... where they burned the dead, likely. why had they brought two living boys on the boats for the dead? that didn’t make any sense.

— well, unless they were dead. or they were thought to be dead. what has Kaz said earlier, that he didn’t even know when jordie had died ... which had to have meant Kaz was alive, but still on the boat? with jordie’s body? but it wouldn’t just be jordie’s body...

it paints a grisley image. inej heard stories, of the plague. of the death carriers, the stacks of bodies. and as she puts it together, it paints an image of someone on a boat surrounded by dead bodies, but still alive. ]

Oh, Kaz.

[ it’s soft, in a breath, as the pieces begin to knit together. kaz’s difficulty with touching skin, and the water . . . he had to have gotten off the boat somehow. it stirs a fierce protectiveness in her, a white hot anger that she rarely feels. ]

What I did to Pekka Rollins was not enough.

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