#sosc

You pawed at the shackles bounding your wrists. You knew you were on a skiff, you could feel its movement. You knew that your brother was somewhere on the upper deck since you could hear his voice, powerful and commanding even this far away. You hated it.

Yet even after decades upon decades spent dealing with the consequences of his foolish actions, you still couldn’t find a way to best him. You had ignored your mother’s requests to train harder, be stronger, prepare yourself for when the time came for you two to battle it out in the most rudimentary way of all. Deep down, you knew she was right, but that didn’t sway your decision.

Instead, while your brother moved his way up the ranks until he commanded an army, you hid out in little villages, away from most civilisation. You found a place, stole an amplifier that would allow you to heal and tailor yourself if need be, worked whatever job you could, then left before you could get too attached, disappearing into the shadows, as was your place.

How foolish of you, to believe that you could hide out forever.

You waited until no noise came from above you to melt away from the shadows surrounding you. That was one good thing about being a Shadow Summoner: no one could see you if you didn’t want to be seen.

You didn’t know where you docked exactly. The sailors were Shu, travelling to this place, instead of returning, as you were accustomed to. For once, you had no bearings in this new place.

You left the boat and walked the streets, paying close attention to the people and places. A word here, a flash of money there, and you were once again in full control of your destiny.

You slinked away from the many gambling halls, houses of pleasure, and other such idiotic places and went further into the shadows. Your home. The further you went, the safer you felt, although something told you you shouldn’t.

You looked up at the rooftops from your peripheral. A girl. Impressively soundless, most likely invisible to any other person. It reminded you of a cat you used to have when you were younger, happier, and naive. She used the shadows in her favour. Unfortunately for her, you were the shadows.

You weighed your options and turned onto an empty street, stopping and crouching down as if to tie your shoe. Above you, the girl stopped and observed.

“Hello, little cat.”

You said, in perfect kerch. If you live this long, you learn to pick up a few languages. The girl stilled, and you turned towards her.

“Come on, hop on down, I’m not gonna hurt you or anything.”

She seemed to hesitate for a second but eventually did, landing soundlessly on her feet. Your heightened vision allowed you to see her perfectly. She was Suli.

“That was impressive. I suppose most people don’t even notice you’re there, much less call you out on it.”

Her eyes widened, most likely surprised to hear her mother tongue spoken back at her.

“You’re Suli?”

You shook your head.

“Ravkan. Close enough. Mind telling me why you were following me?”

She shifted on her feet. Apparently, once you took away her greatest strength, she had a hard time bouncing back. It was understandable. You wanted to fix it.

“My boss has me stake out everyone that he deems necessary. One of those is newcomers that don’t fit the usual pattern. You came into my sights.”

You nodded.

“Understood. Lead the way, I wanna have a talk with that boss of yours.”

Now, you’d give anything to be back on the streets of Ketterdam.

You cursed yourself as your fingers yet again failed to touch. All you needed was one measly touch of your hands to activate the magic, get it flowing, then you could get out of here. Your movements were still sluggish from the brief Heartrender-induced coma. You suspected that Aleksander wanted you to be at the centre of his victory, so close, yet unable to stop him. Not for the first time, you cursed yourself for your actions.

A letter was waiting for you on top of your bed. You briefly wondered if one of the Dregs had mistakenly put it there since you had no one to send letters to you, but once you got closer you knew it wasn’t a mistake.

“No…”

You gasped out, staring at your name, proudly scrawled in your mother’s handwriting.

This can’t be possible. No one knows where you are.

Hurried words, some stood out, need you here, not much time, imminent disaster.

You made your way up the stairs and to Kaz’s office.

Need you here.

Need you here.

Need you here need you here need you here.

“Come in.”

You closed the door behind you and Kaz immediately abandoned his plans, most likely expecting another night of healing. Although you were powerful, healing was an acquired gift, not a born one. It’d take a few more sessions to fully rid him of his touch aversion. Although you’d managed to stop him from recoiling at your touch, others were still a challenge.

He noted your posture and a frown crossed his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have to leave.”

The way his face dropped haunted you all the way out of the Slat, to the boat, through the Fold, into the Little Palace, in the woods when you were trying to keep Alina and Mal safe, during you and your brother’s first showdown, and was still with you now, bound in some skiff to witness your brother’s cruel plan come to fruition.

“(Y/n)?”

You snapped your head towards the voice, eyes filling with newfound hope at the sight of your newest friend.

“Mal!”

He rushed towards you, looking for anything he could use to break your bonds while you inspected him for injuries. Aleksander could take away the amplifier, but your Healer instincts were not something you could just shake off.

“How did you end up here?”

He looked at you as if it was obvious.

“I couldn’t let Alina face him alone. Even less when I saw them drag you here. Unconscious, nonetheless. I would’ve come by sooner but I had to make sure no one would come to look down here.”

You nodded. What Mal and Alina had wasn’t something you could break. Wherever he goes, she goes, and vice-versa. There’s no doubt in your mind they’d follow each other to the grave without a second thought.

“Ugh, I can’t get these off!”

You made your way to the pair, soundless as ever. They were hiding from Aleksander and his Grisha, but you knew they would be caught.

“Don’t panic, it’s just me.”

Mal turned around, surely ready for a fight, but Alina stopped him.

“Mal, it’s okay, she’s a friend.”

You quickly assessed your surroundings, figuring out the best path to get away from the search party.

“Over here, come on, we have to hurry.”

They followed you, eager to get out of danger, and within minutes you had them safely stowed away and out of your brother’s reach.

You reached for Alina.

“Come, let me heal you.”

It still surprised you how she trusted you so easily, even after knowing the man Aleksander was. The man you were related to. You supposed your mother had a hand in that.

Once she was fully recovered, you turned to Mal.

“I know you don’t know me, and you have no reason to trust me, but if you allowed me I’d like to take care of those cuts of yours, get you back into peak condition.”

He looked towards his friend.

“If Alina trusts you, then so do I.”

It was that simple.

“I can.”

You thought you were hallucinating. Kaz? On the East side of the Fold? Not possible.

Yet, when you lifted your head, there he was: in flesh, bones, and leather gloves. You almost sobbed.

“Kaz…”

He pushed Mal away with his cane, then knelt behind you, cradling your bound wrists with gentle hands. You couldn’t see him work, as your hands were behind your back, but you could feel the shift of his wrists, the heat emanating from him, his breath on your neck.

One barely-there brush of his arm against your fingertips and your hands were free. You turned around and he brought his hand to your face, inspecting it for any injuries that might have occurred. Fortunately, your brother had been kind enough to allow a Healer to tend to you after your fight.

“What are you doing here?”

“We came here on a job. Get Alina, get a million kruge. It didn’t go so well.”

You laughed wetly, throat tight from holding back tears.

“I’m really glad you’re okay, and I’m happy to see you but I wish you weren’t here.”

Another voice piped up.

“You know, it’s really unfair that he gets all the sentimental reunion shit and we don’t even get a hug. Like come on, are we not friends?”

You rose on unsteady feet and brought Jesper into your arms, repeating the action with Inej right after. How you’d missed them.

A scuffle broke out from above you and you knew that you had to act now. You were going to stop your brother. Once and for all, like you should have done all those years ago.

Kaz squeezed your hand as you repeated the familiar words.

“No mourners.”

“No funerals.”

“(Y/n)!”

Your mother’s voice rang out as you stared at the door outside her bedroom. Soldiers stood, Aleksander was widely outnumbered.

“I have to help him.”

She shook her head.

“No. You have to stop him. He’s about to do something terrible.”

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t just leave him to die. He was your big brother, your family. You couldn’t leave him. With a flick of your wrist, the shadows had risen to hold their feet to the ground. Destabilising them. Scaring them. You thought you had evened the odds.

Turns out the scales had started to tip in Aleksander’s favour long ago, and the sudden surge of Grisha power in the air was all he needed.

In a split second, he’d siphoned the little bit of your power that was in those shadow traps. It looked so insignificant given how much you had. But a little power goes a long way. It went long enough for him to create the Fold.

Your mother begged you to stop him, fight him, put an end to what would ruin millions of lives. You felt fear take hold of you, shame, doubt. You knew you’d never be good enough for that. Brave enough.

When he came back inside looking for Baghra, you were gone, hidden in the shadows like the coward you were. Hidden in the shadows like you’d remain from then on.

It all happened so fast. Too fast. One minute you were fighting, Alina was setting herself free, Aleksander went overboard, you rescued Mal. You saw your brother disappear into the shadows but he was still there, fighting them, and he’d win. These shadows were a part of him. He’d created them. They’d obey their creator. They wouldn’t harm him. They couldn’t harm him. But you could.

Zoya got the sails to work again, propelling the skiff out of the Fold just as you jumped out, drowning out your friends’ voices. You saw them all get out safely. That’s good. You took a determined step forward.

You stood face to face with your brother. Alina and Mal were further North, still trying to locate the stag. You stayed behind. You had to protect them. You had to fight him, make up for all the suffering you could have prevented.

“(Y/n). So you did return.”

He rose his hand up to stop his men from moving.

“This needs to end, Aleksander, you’ve caused enough suffering as is.”

He scoffed.

“Suffering? Only to our enemies. They wanted us shackled, weak, dead. I’m doing this for the good of our people, why won’t you understand that?”

You rose a brow.

“That sounds a lot like what the Fjerda say before they burn Grisha at the pyre instead of learning to live in harmony.”

His eyes lit up in anger.

“Do not compare me to those beasts. I am a living Saint, the saviour of our kind!”

You let a tear fall from your eyes, finally seeing just how far gone your brother was. But this wasn’t him. Your brother was dead. He died along with Luda all those centuries ago. This was the Darkling, the Black Hester. Aleksander was dead.

“You are no saviour.”

Shadows formed around you just as they did around him.

“Fine, make me your villain.”

It was a gruesome fight. Shadow against shadow, punch against punch, blade against blade. You had the same power, but not the same strength. He had a purpose, a will, a goal that had festered for over a century. You were slower, less trained, mourning the brother you just realised you lost.

It was a lost cause from the very beginning.

He plunged his blade into your gut. You thought it fitting, that you’d spent so long hiding in the shadows only for them to be the reason for your demise.

The amplifier, the one thing that gave you power, that allowed you to heal instead of destroying as your family seemed to constantly do, was pulled from your body and you felt yourself weaken, hitting the snow with a dull thud.

The last thing you registered was a Healer tending to your wounds before your pulse was dropped and you were welcomed by the unforgiving helplessness of unconsciousness.

“Come to join me, little sister? Finally came to your senses?”

You stood in front of him, nothing but twenty feet of air between you. You felt the darkness everywhere. In the ground, in the dust floating, in the creatures flying around. This was pure darkness. You were in your element, but so was he.

“You know I’m not, Darkling.”

“It’s Aleksander, call me by my name.”

You shook your head.

“Aleksander died along with his lover. You are not my brother. You’re an abomination, and I’ll rid the world of you if it’s my last action on this Earth.”

He drew his hands in front of him and a blade formed.

“As you wish. If you’re no longer my sister, I’ll have no qualms about killing you.”

You evaded expertly as he swung down his blade. He was expecting an easy fight, and yet he’d have anything but. He saw you as the defenceless little girl he had to protect in his youth, the coward that ran out on her family, the unworthy opponent he bested once already.

But that was not you anymore. You’d changed, quickly and drastically. You had a goal now, a single-minded type of focus: beat him, end him, undo your wrongdoings.

You channelled all your knowledge, your instincts. The years spent defending yourself against soldiers with bows and arrows, the days evading Fjerdans, Examiners, and any of the like, the months spent fighting for and beside the Dregs. You were a different person.

In that moment, you weren’t (Y/n), you were the personification of his doom, you were karma coming back for retribution, you were the wrecking ball that would destroy everything he’d created.

He relied too much on his blade, you didn’t make that same mistake. With a flick, shadows encompassed his feet, as you had once done for his enemies. Your shadows, uncontrollable to him. He swung his blade down to cut them off, but you kicked it away. Punching him in the face felt better than you’d imagined.

Drawing your own shadows was complicated here, where everything was his creation. They could be easily destroyed by a momentary loss of focus. He thought that was a slip-up. He was terribly wrong.

He brought his knee up to hurt you but you caught it, dropping to the floor with practised ease and watching him fly over you, hitting the ground with a groan. And then it was hit. After hit. After hit. A block here and there, but they got rarer the more you moved along. His body sagged on the floor, face beaten beyond recognition, body drained of all its energy from the previous fight and now this one.

You formed a dagger, just as your brother had taught you all those years ago. Fitting that he'd be the one teaching you the skill that would kill him.

“Goodbye, Darkling.”

You plunged the dagger into his heart, watching the light fade from his eyes. His body started to sag and fade, turning to shadows and being absorbed into your being. He might have been a Shadow Summoner, but he was also an Amplifier. His body’s power went to the one that killed him. When his body was gone, now forever a part of you, you allowed yourself to lay back down.

With him dead, the Fold was no longer able to expand. It had no creator to draw its power from, it was at a standstill, waiting to either fade or be blown away. The Darkling was powerful, you’d expect it to take a few more centuries to fade on its own. But that wouldn’t be a problem. Alina would destroy it.

You looked down at your arms, the black magic of the Amplifier not yet settled within you. In a sense, it was comforting. Aleksander had been an Amplifier long before his soul had rotten. It felt like having a part of him with you forever.

You closed your eyes, body weak, and let yourself sink further into the dirt.

You thought of what you’d be living behind. Alina. Mal. Inej. Jesper. The Dregs. Your little room in the Slat. That cat that always came around begging for food.

Kaz.

Oh, Kaz…

You’d never gotten to say goodbye. It was a split-second decision to jump off that skiff. You’d never said goodbye to him. Worked through the remainder of his touch aversion.

Would he be mad? Would he mourn you? Would he cry?

You’d never seen him cry before, but surely this was a good reason to.

You’d never get to kiss him.

You’d gotten so close too.

But all that hard work was in vain now.

“Alright, do you wanna try now?”

He opened his eyes and nodded. You’ve done a lot of progress over the last few weeks. From taking off his gloves when you were in the room, to touching your bare hand with his, to laying on the bed, side by side.

It was a daily job, first getting through those walls enough that he didn’t recoil at your touch for the sole purpose of healing his leg. It was a weakness he didn’t like to have. Now that his leg was fully healed up, you could focus entirely on him.

At first, you felt hurt that he still insisted on carrying his cane around everywhere, until you noticed it was more for deceit and practicality’s sake than for actual necessity.

You laid on the bed beside him, as you’ve done multiple times. You always make sure to let him make the first move, let him have control. He needed control and you were more than happy to give up some of it.

He started by moving his hand towards yours and linking your pinkie, breathing for a moment and sighing in relief when no feeling of nausea arose.

You hadn’t done much, really, it was all him. Your work involved calling up the memories and offering him better coping mechanisms but he had to accept those mechanisms and put them in place. He was the one that made peace with Jordie’s death and what he had to do to survive. He did all the heavy lifting, your only job was to keep him sane while he processed those emotions, and then help him get reacquainted with touch.

He took a deep breath, holding it in his lungs. You’d seen that expression before. It was the expression he wore when he was about to take a gamble, get into a fight, jump off some building to escape whatever hole he’d fallen into. A deep breath before that sudden leap of faith, if he even had any.

He quickly pulled you to his chest, hugging you tightly with an arm around your shoulder and another around your waist.

A second passed. Then two. Three. He let out the breath he was holding and sighed.

“All good?”

“All good.”

You smiled and hugged him back, taking in the unique scent that could belong to no one but him. His body safely cocooned yours and you let yourself relax. The day had been long, healing much needed and tailoring required for a job. You started to feel the heavy toll of exhaustion weighing you down and fought against the drooping of your lashes. But you were fighting a losing battle.

When you woke up the next morning, Kaz was still in bed with you. You could feel his eyes on your face, hands caressing your cheeks, bodies still pressed up against one another. When your eyelids fluttered open, he didn’t look away.

His eyes were gorgeous, you hadn’t actually noticed that before. Up until now, they were just blue. How foolish you had been to think that such beautiful things could be categorised as “just” anything. They were the diamonds in Queens’ necklaces, they were the sky in late Fjerdan winter, they were the water you’d travelled on to get here. They were a perfect mirror to him.

No part of Kaz Brekker should ever be described as “just” anything because Kaz Brekker was everything.

Carefully, he leaned in. This was nothing like yesterday, no sudden movement to test a theory, find out if he was ready, if the treatment was working. He was doing this because he wanted to. Because he wanted to kiss you.

You felt his breath on your lips and gently closed your eyes. His mouth barely brushed yours, no more than wind on a cold day, when a knock suddenly reverberated and he was jumping away to sit at his desk, sparing you one last glance as you straightened yourself up before inviting in whoever it was.

“Get us back in there, Squaller, I am not leaving her behind!”

Zoya shook her head while behind him, Alina wept in Mal’s arms.

“If she jumped out, she’s as good as gone. The Fold is ruthless, and she has to deal with the Darkling as well. She couldn’t have survived.”

He shook his head in blatant refusal.

“No. No, you don’t know (Y/n). She wouldn’t die, she wouldn’t die! She’s alive and she needs us to go looking for her!”

Jesper paced back and forth, examining the skiff, most likely trying to figure out if he could manipulate the material of it enough that they’d be on the move. But skiffs weren’t made to be worked by Fabrikators, they were made to be worked by Squallers.

Inej was oddly silent. Clutching a knife to her chest, one of the two new ones she’d bought for her thigh holsters. The one on the right thigh was named Sankta Alina, the left one, the one she held now, was still unnamed.

He paced. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when he had yet to tell her he-

Tell her he…

Not when I haven’t told her I love her.

He thought and forced himself to really think those words. To think them over, and over, and over again, so that when he saw her again, they’d be the first ones tumbling out of his lips.

Before I miss you.

Before I thought you died.

Before I’m glad you’re alive.

“Oh, Sankta (Y/n).”

Inej whispered, and pointed at the Fold, where they’d come out of what felt like hours ago. A figure in a black outfit stumbled out. He knew that outfit. He knew that figure. He’d know her even when he didn’t know himself. When the rest of the world was a blank slate and he didn’t recognise the man staring back at him in the mirror, he’d know her, and he’d know he loved her.

He jumped off the skiff, cane, hat, everything left behind and sprinted towards her. Faster, he thought, you’re moving too slow, get to her faster.

He was a mere sixty feet from her when she lifted her head, saw him, and smiled. She stopped then, knowing he’d come to her, knowing he’d save her, knowing he’d hold her up when she couldn’t hold herself, protect her and heal her like she’d done him.

He pulled her into his arms as soon as she was close enough to. His grip was unyielding, strong, desperate. He pulled away just enough to look into her eyes.

“I love you.”

His voice didn’t waver, despite the tears. It didn’t break, there was no tell that he was lying because for once in his life, he wasn’t. For once, he was telling the truth, the purest, most honest truth, with no regards for how bad that could end.

“I love you, too.”

But of course, it wouldn’t end badly, because this is (Y/n) we’re talking about. Soft, gentle (Y/n) that could heal him with a look and destroy anyone with a flick of her hand. She was hard, she was dangerous, she was powerful, she should be feared, she was his equal, she was his love, she was his life, she was his everything.

When they finally kissed, it felt like coming home.

Are you guys as soft as I am right now? Cause I just read this over and I am in a pile of tears, so either my sleep deprivation has finally caught up to me or this is genuinely the best thing I’ve ever written.

Anyway, if you liked it don’t forget to like/reblog/comment/send me an ask or dm ranting about it, I really love hearing from you guys.

-Love, Miah <3

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