Wait nine years for me, then. Maybe then I'll come back. Maybe not.
[his hand starts to shake, and he isn't sure whether he wants to scream or cry.]
[it's all he wanted, for nine years, to come back and have a home. to have Boss by his side. but Cipher is dead, Kaz's phantom pains still tear at him at night, and nothing ever will be the way it was, even after their his vengeance is complete. the only thing that changed was that he'd had what he'd thought was Boss by his side as some kind of rock to keep him from drifting out to sea entirely. now, he didn't even have that-- he'd drawn a careful distance between himself and the Phantom, and planned to keep it that way.]
[this is the pain he never leveled at the Phantom, because he was so relived to be done waiting and so wrapped up in chasing Cipher that the magnitide of what he'd given up for all those years had never really registered. what did he give up, really? a part of him wonders. what else would he have done? it doesn't matter. he could have done something, even if he can't picture doing anything else at all.]
[it's been nine years. he hates him. he loves him. he wants to curl into his arms and cry so hard he can't breathe. he wants to wrap his hands around his throat and watch the light leave his eyes. none of those feelings are rational. none of them have ever been rational.]
[but Kaz realizes something. killing Skullface didn't make it stop hurting. killing Boss won't make it stop hurting, either. and it's not out of some kind of sudden pacifist understanding of revenge. it's because it registers that nothing will make him stop hurting. ever.]
no subject
[his hand starts to shake, and he isn't sure whether he wants to scream or cry.]
[it's all he wanted, for nine years, to come back and have a home. to have Boss by his side. but Cipher is dead, Kaz's phantom pains still tear at him at night, and nothing ever will be the way it was, even after
theirhis vengeance is complete. the only thing that changed was that he'd had what he'd thought was Boss by his side as some kind of rock to keep him from drifting out to sea entirely. now, he didn't even have that-- he'd drawn a careful distance between himself and the Phantom, and planned to keep it that way.][this is the pain he never leveled at the Phantom, because he was so relived to be done waiting and so wrapped up in chasing Cipher that the magnitide of what he'd given up for all those years had never really registered. what did he give up, really? a part of him wonders. what else would he have done? it doesn't matter. he could have done something, even if he can't picture doing anything else at all.]
[it's been nine years. he hates him. he loves him. he wants to curl into his arms and cry so hard he can't breathe. he wants to wrap his hands around his throat and watch the light leave his eyes. none of those feelings are rational. none of them have ever been rational.]
[but Kaz realizes something. killing Skullface didn't make it stop hurting. killing Boss won't make it stop hurting, either. and it's not out of some kind of sudden pacifist understanding of revenge. it's because it registers that nothing will make him stop hurting. ever.]
[there's no point to killing Boss.]
Tell me why I should come back.