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It’s a quick trip back to the Slat, after spending a few hours at a nondescript bar—Nina had heard of its opening and all demanded that they go, and through Inej, even Kaz had been persuaded to join them. They’d had their fun—and Jesper had been kept away from any betting pools—and for once in their lives, they had decided to be responsible and leave before anyone got piss drunk. They’re all at various levels of tipsy, of course, but not enough that they’ll feel the effects in the morning.
Well. Almost everyone.
Jesper supposes he should’ve guessed that Wylan would be a lightweight, but really, none of them had expected the boy to get drunk after a mere two cups of liquor. And he should have guessed that Wylan would be a cuddly drunk, with the way Wylan’s absolutely plastered to his side as the six of them make their way back to the Slat.
The evening isn’t entirely over still. Kaz is probably feeling generous because he lets them take up space in the “living room”—a room with enough recycled sofas to seat them all—as Nina makes them all sweet tea and conversations pick up again across the room.
Jesper feels very honored that Wylan’s still chosen to stick to his side—Ghezen knows he likes cuddling with Mattias—and he drapes an arm across Wylan’s shoulders to tug him closer.
‘I’m almost amused,’ Inej says, from where she’s nursing her tea and curled up on the one armchair—she’d tried to have Kaz take it (of course) but he’d stubbornly refused (of course) until she rolled her eyes and gave up. ‘I think Jesper was the one drowning in alcohol, but Wylan’s the one who’s drunk.’
‘Drowning,’ Wylan repeats, giggling. He burrows into Jesper’s side, making himself comfortable, and Jesper can’t help the besotted grin tugging at the corner of his mouth—but that’s okay, because everyone else looks charmed by their resident pigeon too.
Well, everyone except Kaz, but he’s pretty sure that even Kaz isn’t immune to Wylan.
‘Yeah?’ Nina says, from where she’s sat almost entirely in Mattias’ lap, ‘Were you drowning in alcohol, Wylan?’
Wylan giggles and shakes his head, his curls brushing against Jesper’s chin, and Jesper has to resist the urge to lift his hand and run his fingers through them. Some things won’t be explainable in the morning.
‘No,’ he says, drawing the word out, and then he shakes his head again like he’s trying to think of something, ‘Weeeell, I’ve drowned before. But not in alcohol.’ And, as if to offset the statement, he giggles and relaxes into Jesper once again.
It takes a second for the words to pierce through Jesper’s tipsy mind, but once it does, he finds himself going still. He looks at the others—no, he hadn’t heard wrong. Kaz and Inej have twin looks of confusion on their faces, and Nina and Matthias look equally worried.
‘You’ve drowned?’ Jesper says carefully, wondering if this is the right thing to do, considering Wylan’s drunk out of his pretty head and it might be information that he’s not willing to share. Nobody rebukes him, though.
Wylan giggles again, very much at odds with the subject at hand, made slightly worse when he continues to say, ‘Yeaaah, in—in Ketterdam—y’know, y’know when the firepox—thing—happened? About that time, I think.’
Jesper chances a glance at Kaz. Although Kaz may not have told him everything—well, Jesper’s not stupid, okay? He’s seen how twitchy Kaz gets when someone mentions the disease—twitchier than usual—and the last time Wylan had mentioned it, he’d gotten snapped at.
But Kaz is merely listening now, gaze intently fixed on Wylan as the rest of them try to puzzle out the new information they’ve been given by their youngest member.
‘It doesn’t make sense, though,’ Nina says slowly, looking around at them, ‘He wasn’t…one of the poorer people. Wouldn’t his—wouldn’t Van Eck hire Healers to take care of him?’
The question is directed at the rest of them, but Wylan, surprisingly chatty, is the one who answers, complete with little wavey hand gestures that Jesper normally finds endearing as hell. ‘No, no, I was—supposed to be on a boat, y’see. Going to study music in Belendt. But it was all—all a lie, y’know?’
‘A lie,’ Inej repeats. Her hand is rubbing at her waist, and Jesper knows it’s where one of her knives are hidden. He himself—his hand is itching towards his guns.
‘Mhm,’ Wylan agrees cheerfully, ‘M’father sent people to kill me, yeeah? We were on the boat—’ he makes wavey hand motions—‘and the—the two of them, I think—tried to kill me, yeah?—’ complete with strangling gestures—'but someone distracted them, I think, so I panicked, right? And I jumped off the ship—’ diving motion, accompanied by wiggling fingers that probably meant to signify swimming—‘and swam back to Ketterdam. Think I lost consciousness at one point. Woke up on shore.’
Jesper thinks that this metaphorical bomb Wylan’s dropped on them is more destructive than anything he could’ve built. And that’s saying a lot.
He finds himself turning to look at Kaz after Wylan’s settled back into his side—and his leader has his brows furrowed, and Jesper finds himself unfairly relieved that even Kaz hadn’t known about this.
‘But the letters,’ Inej says, leaning forward in her chair, looking for all the world like she’s ready to jump up and leap to Wylan’s defense—‘He sent you letters.’
Wylan laughs, and it’s the first time this evening he hasn’t sounded cheerful. ‘I never read them,’ he says, and in a moment of surprising soberness, looks up and frowns at Inej. ‘How do you know about them?’
Inej looks caught out for a moment, but Kaz steps in. ‘I told her to check.’
Wylan turns his gaze to him, staring unblinking for a long while, before he looks away and mutters something that sounds like, ‘should’ve known’ under his breath. ‘Well, what did they say? I never read them.’
Inej looks hesitant before she replies, but eventually she tells them, ‘It was mostly your father asking you to come back. And a lot of, if you can read this, know that I am missing you.’
Wylan snorts. ‘Of course,’ he says, and Jesper’s taken aback by how bitter he sounds. Unconsciously, he tightens his arm around Wylan’s waist. ‘If you can read, he writes, knowing full well that I can’t. Missing me? Missing the chances to murder me,’ Wylan says darkly.
Nobody talks, after that. Nina has a hand over her mouth, Matthias and Inej look horrified, and Kaz has that look on his face when someone’s talking about Pekka Rollins.
Jesper has no idea what his own face is doing, but with the way Wylan’s peering up at him through his eyelashes, he doesn’t think it’s anything good.
‘Oh, I shouldn’t have said that, should I?’ Wylan murmurs, and looks around the room as if taking in everyone’s expressions—‘Sorry.’
‘You have nothing to be sorry for,’ Inej says sharply, ‘It’s not your fault.’
‘It’s my fault for not trying hard enough,’ Wylan says, like he’s said it a hundred times before, like it’s been drilled into his head, and each word makes Jesper’s heart sink lower into his stomach. ‘And—and now that, now that you all know, you’re going to—leave me. It’s—it’s okay. I knew I was—I was just here for the ransom, but—but honestly my father would pay to just have me dead. So—so I’m worthless to you now. Not that I had much worth in the first place, right?’ He gives a self-depreciating little chuckle—‘So you can—I dunno. Do whatever. I’ll go back to the tannery or s’methin’. S’okay.’
For the lack of anything better to do, Jesper turns to Kaz, noticing Nina and Matthias shoot glares his way too—but Kaz doesn’t care—or notice—with the way he’s staring at Wylan. Jesper thinks that he looks angry—maybe even at himself—but he doesn’t know if that’s just him projecting his own emotions.
And like he’s wont to do, Jesper speaks before thinking. ‘No,’ he says, and coughs when Wylan looks up at him again. Contrary to his words, the little pigeon hasn’t let go of Jesper once, even burrowing further into his side as the conversation had continued—and that has to count for something, right? ‘You don’t have to. I—It’snot your fault you can’t read. It’s—it’s your father’s fault. For making you feel that way. And you’re not worthless. You’re our demo man, remember? We need you to do the boom boom thing.’
If nothing, at least it makes Wylan smile for a second. ‘You have other people to do the boom boom thing. Other people who can read, to do the boom boom thing. You don’t need me.’
‘No,’ Jesper says, with a vehemence that surprises even himself, ‘No, I need you, Wylan. You’re my friend, and I care for you, and it doesn’t matter that you can’t read, because you’re the smartest little genius in all of Ketterdam and your father is an idiot for not recognizing it.’
Wylan’s blushing now, splotches of pink across his cheeks, and he makes a motion, as if to cover his face with his hands but halfway realizes that he’d have to move them from around Jesper—and then he just ducks his head and smooshes his face into Jesper’s side, and the only reason why Jesper doesn’t melt completely is that this is a very serious situation.
‘Wait,’ Inej murmurs, and their attentions are drawn towards her once more—‘the firepox, how many years ago was that?’
Jesper’s heard of it, but he was young then—but Wylan was probably younger, fuck—and hadn’t paid much attention to anything that wasn’t immediately concerning to him.
‘Seven years ago,’ Kaz answers.
‘Seven,’ Inej repeats, ‘How old is he now, sixteen? That means he was—’
‘Only nine, when his father tried to kill him,’ Matthias says, and Jesper would be taken aback at how angry he sounds, if he weren’t feeling the same innate rage himself. Jesper doesn’t like killing people, or hurting them, contrary to popular belief, but he’s suddenly finding it very therapeutic to imagine smashing Van Eck’s face in and stringing his corpse up for everyone to see.
‘It’s okay,’ Wylan says drowsily, not emerging from Jesper’s side but speaking loud enough for everyone to hear him, ‘It wasn’t all that bad, really. I know—I know other people have it worse, so I’m lucky. At least in the Barrel no one would take away my food because I couldn’t read.’ A giggle vibrates through Jesper’s side. ‘I mean, people took my food, but y’know. Just because. Not because I couldn’t read.’
Took away his food.
‘Wylan,’ Nina asks gently, ignoring the sharp look Jesper sends her way, ‘What—what else did your father do? As—as punishment?’
Wylan shrugs. ‘Not punishment, really. He tried all kinds of things to try and get me to read, though. Hypnotism, beatings, all that.’
Jesper’s been in the Barrel for a few years, and he likes to think that he’s developed a tolerance for violence. Hearing Wylan speak about his father abusing him still makes him want to throw up.
No one knows what to say after that, it seems, because the room is quiet again—except this time it’s not a quiet, peaceful silence—it’s the type of silence that pervades a storm coming. Something is rolling under Jesper’s skin and it’s only because Wylan is holding onto him that he doesn’t do something stupid like jump up and start plotting Jan Van Eck’s murder.
Besides, it looks like that’s already being covered by Kaz—and possibly Inej, both of whom are doing that mystical telepathic connection only they can do.
Jesper takes a deep breath. Unconsciously, his fingers are rubbing small circles into Wylan’s back—not that the other boy seems to mind. He even leans into it, humming contentedly—too contentedly for someone who’s dropped his entire sad backstory on all of them.
‘I didn’t want to say this, because it’s not my business,’ Nina says carefully, and Jesper turns his attention onto her. ‘And I know I haven’t spent that much time with him—but his heartrate is—his baseline is the equivalent of an average person’s anxious heartrate. And it—spikes whenever there’s a loud noise or when someone raises their voice—or when someone moves too suddenly. And—have you noticed? When he flinches, he always goes to protect his head. Makes himself smaller.’
Jesper had noticed, but he’d just passed it off. As Wylan being a city boy not used to loud noises and jumpscares. As Wylan being his usual twitchy self.
He’s clenching his fist before he’s aware of it, angry at himself for not noticing. What could he have done? Maybe not much, but at least reassure Wylan that he wasn’t here just for his worth as a hostage.
‘Jesper,’ Nina says sharply, ‘Stop that.’
Jesper tries very hard not to glare at her. Really, he does.
Nina’s eyes soften. ‘He’s asleep,’ she says, softer now, ‘This is the only time his heartbeat is normal. So relax, and be a good pillow for him.’
Looking down, Jesper takes a few deep breaths. His view is slightly obscured by Wylan’s hair, but Wylan is curled up against him, face halfway resting on Jesper’s stomach. And just like that he can relax again, if only for Wylan than for anything else. He’s honored by the fact that Wylan had deemed him safe enough to fall asleep on—even if it’s probably more of the effects of alcohol than anything else.
‘Here,’ Inej says—when had she moved?—and drapes a blanket across the both of them. ‘Don’t get cold.’
‘Thanks, ‘Nej,’ Jesper smiles up at her, and gets a nod in return. He watches Kaz pick himself off the table he’s been leaning on and make to leave the room.
‘Wait, Kaz.’
‘Hm?’
‘Tell me—’ Jesper falters. He’s not sure what he’s asking for, except—
‘Don’t worry,’ Kaz brushes it off, ‘I got it.’ And the words that usually would bring Jesper at least some amount of ire do wonders in comforting him, that Kaz is probably planning something as they speak.
‘Okay.’
And Kaz leaves, and Inej does too, swinging out the window, and then it’s just Nina and Matthias left, and they’re far away enough that Jesper can’t properly hear what they’re muttering about. Despite himself, Jesper feels his eyelids growing heavy, mind surprisingly quiet despite the amount of alcohol he’s drunk—he’s sure it has something to do with Wylan’s warmth curled into him.
‘We’ll be going now,’ Nina tells him, and Jesper blinks blearily up at her, nodding. She kisses both him and Wylan on the forehead and tugs Matthias out behind her.
Jesper inhales, and rests his head on Wylan’s.
They can talk in the morning.