"Untie her."
There was nothing but darkness and pain when she felt herself being pulled into consciousness, feeling the vile wickedness of her heart coming to and forcing her awake as she grunted quietly, the noise seemingly amplified in a silent room. Gwen kept her eyes closed for a few moments, trying to grab her bearings, trying to feel where she was without giving her status away...and then everything came rushing back, slamming hard against her like a tsunami as she remembered everything that had happened that had led her to that moment in which her hands were tied and her body propped up on a uncomfortable chair.
She'd been watching Jesper, watching as those guards had surrounded him, their weapons of destruction threatening to damper the light that had made a mock of the sun, her hands, always stained with sin and death moving before she'd even given herself a chance to think things through, only needing to know one thing, only thinking about one thing as she begged the saints for something she never thought she would, a chance to save a life instead of condemning it to hell. Let me save him, she'd begged, let me save him or die with him, just don't let me stay in this abyss of life without him.
But she'd saved him, of course she had, and now it appeared that she had to pay the price as her eyes fluttered open, the sharp blue of the stormy skies zeroing in on the boy standing in front of her, tracing up the crow-head cane, up his dark assemble of black and then finally staring at a face that looked almost familiar as he stared down at her indifferently, lips set in a grim line but his gaze as cold as ice. He had a great poker face, that she could compliment, but the pounding of his raging heart didn't lie as she tilted her head towards him and quirked a brow. "Dirtyhands, I presume? I must say, I was expecting a bit more."
"I could say the same, Stranger. With all the myths surrounding you, imagine my disappointment when I just found a grisha with a death wish."
His voice was vile, stinging like saltwater to a wound and rough like stone upon stone, unfamiliar and almost monstrous as she hummed quietly, moving her fingers and hands around through her bonds to test the sturdiness, not even bothering to hide what she was doing as she grunted, pulling a face in some kind of mocking impression...after all, she had to give credit where credit was due, no one was going to be able to get out of the thick leather straps that had been pulled taunt around her wrist until it was biting into her skin and making it bleed...but luckily for Gwen as an idea began to form, she wasn't exactly a no one now, was she?
"Well, it wouldn't of been disappointing for long, would it? Considering the last I checked, you were about to choke on your own greed." She grinned darkly, tongue licking out at the front of her teeth as he glared at her for half a moment, unable to hide his rage at how close she'd come to crumbling his scheming empire by the seams, a muscle in his sharp jaw twitching as he took one, ominous step towards her, his cane knocking against the wood beneath him like a haunting promise of things to come as he leaned in close with a certain wickedness shining through his dark gaze that matched her own almost perfectly.
"Who give you my name, Stranger."
"I think the more accurate question would be who hasn't. You're rather hated here, you know? I can't imagine why." Gwen said boredly, leaning back against the chair with her neck rolling across it, not even wanting his breath to brush over her skin and stain her with his dirt. She had no loyalty to Nobles, she had no loyalty to anyone but herself, and even that sometimes was a hurdle to cross...however, she did like watching that twitch to his brow that spoke up about just how close she got to him was affecting him viciously.
To a man that's said to be untouchable, her hands had wrapped around his throat easy enough, it was almost pathetic really.
His upper lip curled for barely even half a second, a quick flash of emotion before it was wiped clean, like to feel such things was a crime, like it was something that stripped him naked and deranged him as he took a step back away from her, gloved fingers dancing over the head of his cane ominously...before he lifted it up by the bottom and swung it across her face so hard she was sure she somehow managed to bite through the fragile skin of her cheek, her mouth filling with blood and her head snapping to the side with a wounded grunt.
She wanted to laugh, wanted to ask if she'd touched a nerve though her mere existence as copper morality sat heavy upon her tongue, devastating and bloody like damnation, the aftermath of her cruelty that had turned her bitter through emptiness and grief. She wanted to laugh, but it was caught in her throat that felt more like a sob when her gaze landed upon Jesper who stood with the others who watched closely, his face turned away with a pained grimace and his cheeks stained with tears that shone in the dull light, he, who opened up suns in her heart, that had left her hungry for love, hungry for him, who now looked just as ruined as she did.
But she granted him mercy, she'd grant him anything he'd ask for, because as much as he'd deny it until he was blue in the face his heart still belonged to her just like hers did to him, and seeing her like this, seeing her for what she was, a monster filled with dead and wicked intentions who'd become like this to survive. But he didn't know her as the Stranger, he loved her as Gwen...and perhaps that's why it hurt him so much, he hadn't yet realised that the monsters were one in the same, both hungry, both killers, both ripe for destruction.
"Name." Brekker snapped once more, staring her down with nothing on his face but the desire for brutality as she dragged her eyes back up to meet him, opening her mouth to allow the blood to drip down her chin, spilling down onto his floor in thick clumps of crimson with a certain flicker of something dangerous, trying not to show her shiver of disgust, trying not to show her weakness lest she wanted it to be used against her...and had to remember that she didn't want Jesper to see her bloodied any more than he had to as she sighed quietly, and decided to play into Dirtyhands games.
"Eddard Nobles...he was willing to pay a pretty penny for your demise. I mean, the job was pretty simple, catch you at a weakness and ensnare you like a lamb to slaughter and leave your body to rot in the reapers barge." She said nonchalantly, and almost the exact moment that she'd whispered the word weakness...his gaze had flickered, so quick and frantic that she'd almost missed it but not quite as she slowly glanced to the side, and felt something cruel and spiteful bubble in her gut when her eyes landed upon the suli girl who hadn't torn her attention away from them.
"I regret to inform you, but I don't have any."
"Oh, but I think you do. I stupidly thought it was kruge...but I see now...I should of just went for the Wraith." Gwen grinned through blood-stained teeth, and it was a vile thing, a threat, a promise, a haunting insight into her mind that she'd molded with hands stained with sinister intentions, becoming who she was, a myth, a legend, a ghost that still lived when she should of died. And oh wasn't it ironic how the mighty could fall, the so called Dirtyhands for the wraith...and the Stranger for the sharpshooter, but they all knew how it would end, she was a testimony to that...it would only end in horror because to love was a death sentence in the hell that was Ketterdam.
And then the Brekker lifted his cane once more, and this time? This time he didn't hold back as he brought it down and slammed it against her bound hand, forcing her bones to shatter, breaking against flesh that had been too soft to hold all the mess that was she as her screams filled the night like a sickening symphony, her weapons, her salvation, bodied and bruised and throbbing by her side as she gurgled blood and salvia in her mouth only to spit it onto his feet with a paling snarl on her gaunt features. "If you're going to kill me Dirtyhands, I'd prefer you get it over with...I do have people I want to see."
"Oh, I'm going to kill you, Stranger. But first, I want one thing...your name."
A muscle in her jaw twitched, carved out and sharp, her lips trembling as he smirked down at her, a splatter of her blood across his pale skin like an ominous glimpse of the future to come. She supposed she had to hand it to him for his dramatic flair, obviously he'd heard the rumours, that you whisper a name for the right price and the monster that haunted the Barrel would answer it and stain the earth with death and slaughter again and again and again because that's what she'd be re-born for, but she only glared at him, looked at him like it didn't even bother in the first place.
However, it seemed that that was what he'd been expecting as something vicious flashed across his eyes, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk before he slapped his cane against the meaty flesh of her thigh and cut it open with its sharp beak as she let out a muffled scream that she didn't dare let lip past her clenched lips, even when he dug it around in her open wound until she could feel it scrapping against the bone, she didn't let up, even as tears streamed down her face, even at he went at her again and again, she didn't break...until she heard someone curse and she glanced to the side to see Jesper trembling as he looked away.
And saints, was there really no lengths she'd go to for a man who'd soon hate her, was it not enough that she'd allowed him to bewitch her, body and soul until she was sure her heart would beat for no other for him? Was it not enough that she'd broke her every rule for him? That she'd killed for him? Was willing to die for him? Was it not enough, how could it ever be enough?
Her name had never mattered before, it was just a name for an unfortunate orphan who'd been ripped apart from everything she knew twice over, who only bore the name because no one else had gotten the chance too before fate had taken over and took them into its cruel arms one after the other until she was all who was left. The saints had picked the wrong child to survive, she'd known it since day one, she wasn't smart or kind like Kaz, wasn't ambitious as Jordie...she just simply was, and her name had always been painful even as she finally broke. "Gwen! My name is Gwen Rietveld!"
And then there was a silence so loud that you could hear a pin drop as Brekker froze, cane hovering through the air, a few inches away from hitting her cheek...and then before she could even blink his gloved hand was wrapped around her jaw so tight that she could already feel the bruises forming beneath her flesh, using that grip to yank her closer with his dark eyes looking nothing short of feral and wild as they traced over her every feature like he was searching for something as he spat. "How do you know that name?"
"Because I was born with it, Dirtyhands. Just like you were given yours when you crawled out of your poor mothers cunt."
She didn't try to tear herself away from him, knowing it was useless and not wanting to waste the precious breath that filled her stomach with rot with every wounded sounding gasp, staring into his eyes hauntingly, refusing to back down, even when his free hand moved over towards her chest slowly, trembling and shaking with such a force that she would of thought him elderly, looking sick to his stomach as he began to unbutton her shirt, not stopping even when Jesper stepped forward with his fingers lingering over his revolver in horror at what he thought he was witnessing.
"Kaz-"
"Shut up." He snarled back roughly, not even sparing him, any of them a glance as he peeled the shoulder of her black shirt down the slope of her neck, pulling it further and further down until it was sloping at her chest where it was almost like he knew exactly what he was searching for as his gaze instantly landed on the birthmark just under her clavicle...and then he was stumbling away from her, his skin pale and sickly looking with sweat dripping down his forehead as he scowled at her like she was a ghost coming to haunt him for his sins. "You're dead. You are supposed to be dead."
There was a tension in the air, thick and overwhelming like blood as she watched him seemingly breakdown in front of her, wondering in some blistering confusion if he was trying to psychologically psyche her out because it was definitely working as she glared at him darkly, her hand still aching with awful pain that had completely shattered her bones, already able to see the disfigurement in her fingers that she refused to think about for even a second more lest she start actually screaming as Brekker continued. "There...there was too much blood, and I knew you wouldn't leave without that pathetic thing."
And then he looked at her again but there was something different about it, like he was truly seeing her for the first time with something murky and lost in his gaze, glaring at her with hatred, disgust, horror and something else she couldn't even attempt to place, before he looked over to the crows with his face set in a dark and dangerous scowl. "Untie her. She's no threat, not with her hand broken."
"Kaz-"
"Do it. Now." His tone was final, rough and efficient, it was an order and a threat at the same time as it was the corpse witch who finally moved, shooting the man cautious looks as she did so as her quick fingers began to untie the bounds that had condemned her as Gwen stood slowly, trying not to wince as her whole body erupted in pain and wondering if she should risk it, knowing that she could perform a killing blow even with the damage though it would hurt...but there was something about the way Brekker kept staring at her that made her...confused.
"I can't tell if you're stupid, Brekker...or just suicidal." Gwen grumbled quietly, her hand that wasn't broken moving behind her back in case she needed to make a quick escape...but he just kept staring at her, looking at her like she was simultaneously the bane if his existence and a question he needed answers to...before he finally moved, limping over to his desk where he opened up his drawer, and then after a single moment of hesitation, he rolled it over towards her as she tensed, but when she eventually looked down, what she found looking back at her almost brought her to her knees.
It had been years since she'd seen Archibald, years since she'd even thought back to the stuffed animal that she'd carried around like a babe for the majority of her childhood, like if she even let go of it for a moment it would turn to ash on her fingertips and float off into the air and leaving her as alone as she feared to be...it had been years since she'd seen it, but she'd remember it's disfigured face anywhere, even covered in blood, even though it was rotting with age, even though it sent awful flashbacks to the night everything changed including herself.
But that didn't explain why the bastard of the Barrel had it...until it did.
Gwen suddenly looked up sharply, her lips forming the word no under her breath, a desperate prayer, a begging whisper as she looked at Kaz like it was the first time she'd ever truly seen him, and what stared back at her made her want to scream. Eyes darker than the sea and stormier than the sky, their shared upturned nose that their father used to pinch and call them little elves, their dark hair and crooked grins...and then the feeling of his cold hand in hers, watching the life, the soul drain out of him as he spewed all over her, hearing his heart stop as she'd screamed.
And then she blinked and it was Brekker in front of her, and she didn't even last another moment before she was rushing towards the ground with legs that had turned to jelly and began throwing up all over the crooked floor, bile tearing at her throat to match her chest that had been completely and utterly crushed in horror. It was all too much, it wasn't possible, it was possible and she couldn't tell what was worse, her heart aching, bleeding out at the seams as she shivered and heaved and gagged, and wondering if it was better or worse...that her brother wasn't dead or that he was.
She threw up for what felt like years, until there was nothing that came up but spit and tremors and terrible sobs that made her shake, her whole body hunched in on herself as she tried desperately to keep the tears at bay as they threatned to fall as the questions mounted and amounted but wouldn't slip through her wet and bloodied lips. How could she of not seen him? Seen him as he was? How could she of not figured it out? And had she truly allowed her trauma and grief to blind her so completely that she couldn't see past her own greed for death and destruction and fear?
Kaz, her Kaz, the boy who used her torment her and help her torment others, her partner in crime who'd mess up her hair until her dark curls would frizz and bunch up and call her stupid but would punch anyone else if they dared. Her brother, her protection, her responsibility, her every haunting ghost.
For once, she couldn't being herself to start scratching at her dirty hands, dirty clothes, allowing the mess that was her to fester in the moonlight as she stood up numbly, unable to look away from the walls unless she wanted to lose herself completely, because Brekker was right, she was no threat, not now, not to him, not like this, and with that in mind she finally turned on her heel and limped towards the door like she wasn't even there in the first place, floating above herself like an aspiration, a spirit, a banshee torn apart by grief...but as footsteps moved to follow her, the bastad of the Barrel spoke up once more.
"Let her go. She'll find her way back to me...eventually." She already has.
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Disclaimer;
Okay so I know people probably have questions on how Gwen and Kaz didn't recognise each other...but you have to remember that these are two deeply traumatized individuals who are barely the people they once were. Trauma can make the past blurry (which happened to Gwen after watching her brothers die, thinking it was her fault which eventually evolved into her being a germaphobe because she didn't want to get sick) while Kaz was so focused on Revenge that he didn't truly question her supposed death and had forgotten the features of his seven year old sister.