The High Lord still packs a pretty good punch, he thinks as he shifts to pull open another drawer. His entire body aches with each movement but the alcohol has made it a touch easier. He’s burned through most of the bottle with his anger, but he could’ve sworn he had shoved another bottle in there somewhere.

Elain hasn’t arrived yet and he hopes that she doesn’t. Hopes that she doesn’t walk into his home with her striking smile and eager aura. Right now what he needs is to be alone. Alone with his thoughts, in the dark, silent and nurturing like they were when he was a child and his father trapped him in the dungeons.

The age his child is now. Wren. His chest aches an insurmountable amount when he thinks of the child, so much like him despite having never met. Eyes so strikingly similar to his own that Azriel knows you think about him everytime you look at your son. With tiny wings to match and the most stoic face he’s ever seen on a child, there was no doubting that Wren was his.

But you hadn’t even denied it when he asked, couldn’t, and that made him all the more angry at himself. That he had pushed you so far away from him, had hurt you so badly that you didn’t even tell him he had a child? That you had gone so far as to tell the High Lord and the rest of his family but not him?

“I deserved to know about my child,” he screamed into Rhysands face. The bellow was followed by a blow to his jaw, his bones reverberating beneath his skin from the force of it. It had been a long time since they’d come to blows like this, not training, but actually fighting. Azriel thinks the last time they’d had a real argument that had led to injuring each other like this was when they were still learning in the camps and Cassian and Rhysand had teased him, pushed him to his brink before accepting him into their found family.

“And you could have,” Rhys spits back, the utter fury in his voice shaking the paintings on the walls. The High Lord’s power had unleashed then, slamming Azriel back into the wall. His head crashed into the plaster with a harsh thunk and when he blinked the spots from his vision Rhysand was already pouncing towards him, ringed-fist raised. “We all put it together before you ever made a move on Elain. The signs were right there! Think about it! They were right in front of your fucking face and you didn’t even care.”

“Gods,” Azriel groans. He’s been leaning over his chair for far too long and the broken rib his brother had given him makes it hard to breathe.

But Rhysand had been right, all of the signs were there, he was just too infatuated with finding a mate that he overlooked them.

When you’d started having dizzy spells and he’d passed it off as you not drinking enough water, or when you’d told him you missed your cycle, he remembers that like it was yesterday and curses himself for being so dimwitted. 

All of the times you’d tried to cuddle up to him or kissed him just the way he liked but he still pushed you away because it had felt wrong to kiss you back when Elain was standing right over there. He was so busy chasing after Feyre’s middle sister that he didn’t notice your scent shifting, thinking you were coming down with a sickness that would keep you in bed for a day or two so he could have some time with Elain and didn’t have to worry about you finding out.

It was all right fucking there, and he hadn’t been able to see it.

Even when he’d come home to find you sitting in the guest room one night. The door had been cracked open and you’d been sitting on the edge of the bed looking around the room with a look on your face he hadn’t even cared to decipher, but he remembers it now. It was awe, excitement as you clutched your belly, probably thinking to yourself how exciting it was going to be to decorate a room for the babe growing in your belly. But all Azriel had done was pass it off as you starting to realize the distance he was forcing between the both of you and maybe you had decided to sleep in there that night instead of the room you shared.

There is no denying that he’s fucked up. Fucked up to the point of never finding love again. He realizes in this moment how badly he’s treated you, treated the little boy that dons his face and doesn’t even know him. Wren already thinks that Malik is his father, and with the way that the fae male looks Azriel can’t blame him. While you clearly had a type, your current boyfriend doesn’t seem to be as broody or cruel to you as he’d been.

Azriel sighs, saddened by the lack of alcohol he’s hidden in his desk, and sits in self-pity instead.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Azriel wipes his hands on his pants because truly, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

Sitting across the table from you, Malik, and Rhysand was not something he’d ever thought he’d be doing. Let alone being in the same room as you again.

And fuck, you’re as gorgeous as he remembers, even with the guarded way you’re sitting, arms crossed over your chest and your mouth set into a firm line as you stare him down like it’s not fucking burning you up to see him as much as it is for him to see you. 

Rhysand looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. They’ve both healed up due to the nature of their fae healing, but his brother’s glare makes Azriel want to allow the shadows curling around his ankles to shroud him behind their blackness.

And Malik. Malik is here, with his arm around the back of your chair. He’s slid his own closer to yours for comfort, and even the cheerful male he’d seen with his son doesn’t seem so joyful right now. His straight brows are drawn and he keeps glancing over at you in concern. 

Azriel can’t even find it in himself to hate the male. The one who’s taken care of you, of his son all of these years he’d been so oblivious. He wants to hate him with the fires of a thousand autumn fires, but, after the way that he’s treated you, he can’t help but to feel a little bit grateful for the male.

Wren hadn’t joined you, of course not. Feyre had taken him and Nyx down into the Rainbow for an afternoon art class followed by the most ice cream they could even imagine. Normally, you wouldn’t allow Wren so many sweets, but he’s been more than stressed lately with the information of seeing his birth father, and you’ve been trying to help him work through his own feelings on the matter.

Feyre even helped place Wren into an art therapy course with one of her good friends. Everett owns the studio next door and you’ve heard nothing but the best about the therapist. She’s been a light in Wren’s life as of late, and he seems to be responding well to the therapy. So well that he’s mentioned he might be open to meeting Azriel one day.

Today is not that day.

He doesn’t know what to say. His throat is clogged with years worth of emotions. Azriel prides himself on his cool, calm exterior, but right now, there’s none of that front on display. His palms are slick with sweat, leg jerking up and down to try and dispel some of the anxiety wracking his body. It’s no use at all.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” he starts, and it’s more than a little awkward. He watches you and Rhysand share a glance and deflates in his chair. He’s more than a fucking prick.

“I’m not doing it for you,” you start, and he’s never heard your voice so cold. “I’m doing this for Wren.”

Azriel looks up at the sound of his son’s voice. There’s a hopeful note in his golden eyes that you don’t want to diminish, even if there’s still a sting as you’re reminded when his eyes had lit up like that at the sight of you. Your hands fall from where they’re crossed across your chest as the dread settles in, and you can’t seem to fight the tingling of your sinuses. You don’t love him anymore, but seeing him so often after years spent apart brings the feelings of everything he had done right back. 

Sensing your shifting emotions, Malik drops his hand from the back of your chair to your lap, threading his fingers through yours. Azriel’s shadows relay the way that you cling to his hand tightly, and he shifts in his seat.

He watches the way that your eyes go glossy, unfocusing from his and he knows that Rhysand is speaking to you, mind-to-mind. Azriel is sure that his brother is doing his best to reassure you, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. It should have been him reassuring you. It should have been him by your side all of this time.

Just the thought of Elain pains him. Everything that he has fucking done to you because he thought that he wanted her plays over and over and over again in his head. He will never forgive himself for any of this, but the road to making things up to you, up to his son, starts now.

Rhysand takes the reins of the conversation, and Azriel doesn’t like the way that he’s looking at him like any one of his courtiers, hands folded together as they sit on the table. 

He’s even wearing his crown.

“Wren has decided that he wants to meet you. Properly, this time.”

He forces his attention back to the papers on his desk. Which was more than a struggle.

It was an impossible task, staring at building diagrams and reading reports from his spies, when the most magnificent woman he’d ever known sat not three feet from him. 

Then he felt your eyes on him, and he knew there was no point even trying. He wouldn’t be able to focus. 

He meets your gaze and arches a perfect brow. 

You wanted to ask him something. That much was obvious. But you hesitated, you didn’t know if he would say yes. 

“What is it?” 

You glanced down at your hands, then up at him, then back down at your hands. “May I go see Rhys?” Your voice is small as you ask.  

When you heard the shadowsinger sigh you knew what the answer would be. 

Azriel ran a hand through his hair as he watched you.

You had been asking that a lot recently, and at first he allowed it. He saw no harm in you sitting with his brother, helping him when he needed help, listening when he checked in on Feyre through their bond. He knew his brother didn’t mind, he understood your anxiety and shared it with you tenfold. But Rhysand had a lot to deal with, so for that reason, Azriel shook his head. 

“Rhys is very busy.” He starts, extending an open hand toward you. Smile tugging at his lips when you walk around the desk and place your hand in his. “Feyre is strong, she can handle herself.” He assures you as he pulls you to stand between his legs, letting his hands soothe your body. Letting his shadows join him.

But he can tell by how tense you were that his assurance wasn’t helping. 

His fingers thread through your hair. “You want to help Feyre, is that it?” His thumb brushed over your jaw as you nod. “Why don’t you pay her sisters a visit? I’m sure that would ease some of her stress, to know that you’re there for them like you were for her.” 

He watched some light enter your eyes and almost smiled in victory. You were so enthralled with the idea, you tried to run out of his office to visit them right at that moment. He caught you, pulling you back against him until you sat in his lap. “Tomorrow.” He breathed. 

You leaned into him, coaxed by his hands. Sighing as his mouth plants wet kisses down your neck, shivering when you feel his tongue come out to lick over your pulse.

Azriel let himself get lost in you. In feeling you against him. In bathing in your scent. 

He doesn’t let himself second guess his suggestion, even though there was a very reasonable voice in his head that was kicking him. A voice that berated him for being so foolish. That screamed to just let you see Rhys. That begged to keep you far, far away from Nesta Acheron.

But that voice is drowned out by his need for you. 

He groans when you turn around in his lap, straddling him, shimmering black dress riding up your thighs. His hands immediately find purchase on them, squeezing. While yours tangle in his hair.

You pant, lips parted as your eyes run over him. Stopping at his lips, his eyes, his mouth, his neck, the hands that squeezed your thighs when you looked at them. You were mesmerized by him. 

You needed him. Gods, you needed him.

He kissed you like a starved beast. You moaned when his tongue brushed over the roof of your mouth, eliciting a hum from him. His hands slid up to your hips so he could grind you against him, hiking your dress up with them. 

You feel him harden beneath you.

“What do you want?” He asks against your lips, kissing them again, then kissing along your jaw, and then kissing back down your neck. Latching on to the spot that had your hands gripping his hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. 

“I…” You try, but words won’t form, only sounds. 

He parts with your neck to lean his head against yours. Looking in your eyes. Pulling back a bit when you move to kiss him. Hands now holding your hips still against him, torturing you with the feeling of him pressed against you.

 Your eyes plead with him, your sharp nails almost digging into his scalp as you lost yourself, and he can’t stop the smirk of pure satisfaction from spreading across his face. “Tell me what you want.”

You shudder when you feel him twitch underneath you. “Please.” His hands squeeze your hips. “Please. Use me.” 

The groan that left his mouth had to be the most sinful thing you’d ever heard.  

*****

Anxiety chews on your mind, spits it out, and chews it back up again. You wring your shaking hands. 

Before you was the door that separated you from the Acheron sisters. 

You knew of them, knew what they were like from what Feyre had told you. And now that you were thinking about it, you didn’t want to help them. Not for their sake. 

But for Feyre… You’d started coming to terms with the fact that you’d do just about anything for her. 

However, that didn’t stop your heart from beating so fast you were afraid it would fail.

Azriel’s hands rest on your upper arms and he leans down to your ear. “Breathe.” You absentmindedly lean into him, relishing in the feeling of his lips brushing your ear. His breath fanning across your cheek.

“If you can’t handle this we’ll go back.” He says, making it very obvious that he wouldn’t mind curling back up in bed with you. You exhale a shaky breath as his hand slowly slides over your breast, your nipple hardens under the silky fabric of your dress and he traces it with his finger. You were seriously debating it. 

But your need to help in some way, to do something useful wins. 

“I can handle it.” You say, sounding not at all sure of yourself. 

But he listens, moving his hands to rest back on your arms. Thumbs drawing calm circles. 

You give yourself a moment to breathe. Leaning your head back against his chest. Feeling your stomach flip when his lips press against your head.

When you were finally ready he opened the door for you. You took one more futile deep breath, all the air in the world wouldn’t be able to tame your emotions, then walked in with a friendly smile plastered on your face. 

You immediately wished you’d accepted his offer to go back to bed when the harsh eyes of the oldest Acheron sister settled on you. There was no mistaking who was who. 

“What are you?” 

Her words were like a physical blow. Her voice, colder than ice. You step back bumping into Azriel’s chest.  

He rests a hand on your shoulder as if to say, we can still go back. But you’d made your choice, you were here to offer your help. If they didn’t want it, then fine, but you would still offer it.

“A friend,” You manage to say. Her cruel gaze felt like a physical weight on your being. So scrutinizing, so full of hate. It’d been a while since someone cast eyes like that your way. Azriel had been careful to make sure of that. “Of Feyre’s.” 

Her stare narrows on you. Drinking you in. You watch her gaze snag on your pointed teeth. You close your mouth. Whatever you were about to say dying in your throat. 

“Some friend.” 

Azriel glared at Nesta, the warning clear on his face. Say no more. He puts a hand on your lower back, guiding you to where the other sister sat, on a chair in front of a window. 

The weight of Nesta's stare never left you.

But when you see Elaine, all of it ceases to matter.

All thoughts left your brain. Not unlike how you got sometimes with Azriel—when all the pleasure became too much—but also completely different. It wasn’t Azriel guiding you now. 

It was what lived inside you, the writhing magic that was always thrumming under your skin. 

Your brain doesn’t register how the girl looks, hollow; as if someone scooped all the life out of her. Your brain doesn’t register a thing except the irresistible pull. 

You could feel it, or her, calling to you. Beckoning you closer. 

You couldn’t refuse. 

When your mind came back to your body, you stood directly in front of Elaine. Your palm cupping her face. 

Then you felt something awful slither into your head. It slipped through the crevices of your mental barriers and crawled into a dark corner of your mind. Hiding from you, even though you could feel it watching.

Nausea overcame you. You snatch your hand back like she burned you. Shuffling back toward Azriel who looked at you with concern.

Then Elaine's eyes closed. Nesta rushed to her sister as she went unconscious. Almost falling out of her chair. The older Acheron managed to catch her in time with help from Azriel’s shadows. 

You turned to Azriel. “I want to go.” Your words barely a whisper.

His eyes widen when he sees the fear on your face. The horror. His shadows encompass you, providing your body with a cover, a shield. 

“What did you do?!” Nesta shouted through pants of fatigue, having just lugged her sister to bed. You gripped Azriel’s shirt and he held you close to him as he led you out. Away from the screaming woman. “What did you do to my sister?!” 

***** 

“What happened?” 

You swallowed at your High Lord, glancing at Azriel. For what? You didn’t know. Help? Comfort maybe? Whatever it may be you didn’t receive it. All you got was a nod in Rhysand’s direction. 

So you turn back, struggling to find your words under his serious gaze. Not harsh, but very, very serious. “I don’t know. She looked so tired… I just—It felt like she was calling to me.” Trying not to think about that thing you could still feel hiding. Still, feel looking at you with eyes you couldn’t see.

He waved for you to continue. 

“She’s fine.” You say, and somehow find yourself completely sure of those words. Though you had watched her pass out with your own eyes. Knew it was your doing. 

“How do you know that? This is different. Even Azriel said he’s never seen you do something like that before.” You look down at your hands, picking at the already torn skin. 

You don’t dare look up when you feel Rhys rise from his seat. Feel him walk around his desk until he’s in front of you. It's when he speaks that you feel the need to meet his stare.

He holds a hand over your head. “May I?” 

Azriel steps forward. Looking as if he were about to protest. Rhys shoots him a look that makes him stop. 

Rhys needed to know what happened, to make sure you didn't harm his mate's sister. The bond took control of his instincts. Your word wouldn't suffice.

You’d never deny your High Lord a request. Never deny any of your friends a request. You never had before, Azriel always had to step in and do it for you. 

So when you stiffly shook your head no, well, to say they were shocked would be an understatement.

Your whole body was tense as if just the act of refusing took everything out of you. Required every bone, every muscle, and every bit of air in your body.

But you couldn’t risk that thing infecting Rhys. Not when you didn’t know what it was. Not when you could feel its hungry stare. 

You held your breath until Rhysand’s hand dropped to his side.

Your felt physically ill. The weight of what you just did settling on you. You stiffly turned to Azriel.

“I want to go.” You said for the second time that day. 

Azriel’s brows dipped as he looked at you, worry covering his features. His shadows were restless, flicking with agitation as they too struggled to see you so bothered. 

He glances at Rhys but the High Lord gives him a look of sympathy. “I need to speak with you.” 

The shadowsinger’s jaw clenched. Wanting nothing more than to refuse, to point out the state you were in even though it was as clear as day. 

But he couldn’t say no to his brother, not after all he’d done for them. 

He walks you to the office door, turning you to face him before you can leave. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your head. His words were nothing but breath against your ear. A whisper for only you to hear. “Go to bed. I’ll join you soon.” But you didn't walk away, looking unsure, nervous. “Go.” 

Your only consolation, as you left, were the shadows that parted with him and linked with you. 

Once you were far enough down the hall the High Lord spoke. “What was she thinking?” He paced in front of his desk. “She knows her magic is dangerous… did she even read those books Helion sent?” He swallowed as he remembered the limited information those three books had, the only books that made any mention of dreamwalkers. 

“Of course, she read them, you asked her too.” Azriel said, bite in his tone. Making Rhys sigh and stop his pacing. The High Lord sends an apologetic look to his brother as he sits on the front of his desk. “She wasn’t thinking,” Azriel says after a few moments of silence. 

Rhys raised a brow, silently telling him to elaborate. 

The shadowsinger leans back, remembering that look on your face. A look he’d seen many times, but never in a public setting, and you never moved on your own.  “She was in a trance.”

“Elaine could’ve done something to her.” Rhys thinks aloud, making Azriel straighten. 

Did she curse you? They still had no idea what gifts the cauldron bestowed upon the Acheron sisters. The last thing he wanted was for you to be on the receiving end of those gifts. 

Both the Illyrian men sat in worry. 

“I’m sorry, I suggested she visit them. I thought maybe she’d click with them like she did Feyre.” Azriel says, running a hand down his face. 

Rhys shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I know she wants to help. And not everyone can be as charming as Feyre.” At that, the brothers shared a strained smile. 

“How is she?” 

Rhys let out a deep breath as he picked imaginary lint off his clothes. “Alive.” 

Azriel couldn’t imagine how he’d act if you were in enemy territory, the thought making him tense, body itching to be near you. He’d die before he’d let that happen. 

“She’ll be home soon.” Azriel offers Rhys the words of comfort, even though they wouldn't do much.

Before Rhys could reply shadows scurried under the door rushing to Azriel.

The shadowsinger’s face went pale at their whispers. He shot up from his seat. “[name].” 

Then a loud bang was heard followed by a scream of bloody murder. 

The two males were rushing out of the room and running through the halls of the house within a split second. Somewhere along the way Cassian had joined them, shirtless and sweaty. Having rushed out of the training room the moment he heard the bang.

More bangs sound, but none as loud as the first one. And no more screams follow.  

Azriel found himself wishing for you to scream. If you were screaming you were breathing. 

He burst through the door of your shared chambers, almost knocking it down. He didn't stop to stare at the sight before him like his brothers did. There was no time to pause, not when you were being shoved into the tub by Hybern soldiers, their jagged nails gashing your beautiful skin. Their faces were unnatural and barely formed. Some were faceless, just flat skin and dark empty holes where their eyes and mouths should've been. 

Stood behind you was the disfigured form of the King of Hybern himself. His body was reconstructed by the nightmare, making his fae features more monstrous. More fitting for his character.

The evil king's smile stretched from ear to ear as you thrashed under the cold water. 

Azriel shoved his way through, ripping you from their arms and dragging you out of the tub. But the soldiers didn’t stop. Still reaching for you with their long slender fingers. 

Tears flowed from your closed eyes, your body twitching and shaking as you were tortured both in your mind and outside it. 

“Rhys!” Azriel shouted springing the High Lord into action. He rushed over, dodging the grabbing arms before setting both hands on either side of your head and forcing you to wake. 

Your eyes snapped open, gulping in as much air as possible. The figures dissipated into thin air. Like a flame being snuffed out. 

You squirmed away from the hands of your High Lord. Pushing against the firm body you adored so much.

You grabbed Azriel, holding him tight. So tight he wouldn’t be able to leave you again. Too afraid to worry about your bare body and the fact that both Cassian and Rhysand could see. Too afraid to notice the other person who stood at the doorway with wide eyes. Too afraid to do anything but hold him.

“Shhh. I’m here now. I’m here.” He held you tighter as your body shook with silent sobs. “I’m here. I’m here.” 

You know what happened now. What that thing was. Gripping Azriel tighter as the knowledge weighed on your brain. 

You tensed when he lifted your shivering body into the outstretched towel Cassian held. Azriel pulls you close to him when you recoil away from his brother's gentle touch.

Cassian watched Azriel wrap the towel around you. Heart heavy as you clung to his brother. A look of pure dread etched on your face, accompanied by a stream of never-ending tears. 

 You’re vaguely aware of Rhys rummaging through your drawers in the background. Vaguely aware of Azriel lifting you once more. Cradling you against him as he carried you to the bed. 

He took the medical supplies from Rhys and then asked his brothers to leave. They hesitantly obliged, taking the shocked Nesta Acheron with them and closing the slightly damaged door.

He lays you down on the bed, backing up a bit to open the first aid kit but you lurch for him. Arms tightening around his neck. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says, wishing he never had to say such words to you. “I’m right here with you.” Feeling his chest split in half when you reluctantly let him go. Bottom lip quivering. 

His hands are softer than usual as they patch you up. Frown deepening at every single scratch, and bruise he saw. His fingers brush over an already forming bruise on your waist. Bile rose in his throat as the image of those horrid hands grabbing and piercing your smooth skin filled his mind.

“I took it from her.” 

Your broken confession drew his attention away from the bruise and to your scared eyes. He felt helpless as he stared into them, he should've never left you. He cradled your face, thumbing away your tears only for more to take their place. He brushed those away too. 

You did not know this male, did not recognize him, at least not in full. Both his hair and scent were familiar, having been in the same ones study with you. You couldn’t stop your eyes from taking him in, his beautiful hair and strong build, both of which causing a small blush to bloom across your cheeks. You couldn’t deny the beauty that was the male, curiosity filling you as you found yourself wondering why he was in your room and who he was.

Your breathing quickened as he opened his eyes, amber irises shocking you further. He sat up the second he realized you were awake as well, seeming to take a moment before speaking softly, fatigue weighing his words, “You’re awake.”

It wasn’t a question, and you found yourself answering without thought, “And you’re a random man who’s been watching me sleep.”

A smile brushed across his face, somehow making him that much more attractive, “I am. Does that bother you?”

You scoffed, “Just a little. I don’t really like creeps watching me in an unconscious state.”

He held his hand out to you, shaking his head slightly, “Well then, allow me to introduce myself. Eris Vanserra.”

Your eyes widened, placing the name. The male before you was the eldest son of Lord Beron, of which was known to be just as cruel as his father. However, here he was, seemingly watching over you. Sticking your hand out and shaking his, you smiled slightly, “Y/n.”

He opened his mouth to reply when the door swung open, Helion stepping inside and smiling at you when he saw you had awaken. Before either of you could get a word out, Eris rose from his seat, stepping between the two of you as the High Lord of Day held his hands up in a display of peace, “I’m not here to break the bond further, I only wanted to check on her.”

You studied the Autumn male as he looked Helion over once more, glaring at him as he moved to your side.

“How are you feeling, my dear?”

Adjusting yourself, you stretched out your legs, “Like I haven’t moved in years. How long have I been out?”

He frowned, “Four days. You were drifting in and out of sleep, but were never awake for more than a minute.”

You nodded as he continued, “They sent for you.”

Shooting up, panic flooded through your body, “They know where I am?”

He shrugged, “They think they do, but I have assured them that I haven’t seen you.”

“Oh.” Even as your body relaxed, your mind didn’t, knowing that they would figure it out soon enough. You fell silent for a moment before a pain of hurt flared from your chest, hand shooting out for Helions, “The bond. Why is it still there?”

Gently, he took your hand in his, “Because I cannot break it, y/n.” He paused, giving you a sad look, “It nearly killed you, and it probably would’ve if we hadn’t been… interrupted.” He looked to Eris, nodding once, “Dear, I want to help you, but I will not break it. I will not be held responsible in the case of your death. Even without my friends in your Court, I could not do that to you. I have grown to like you, y/n, and a world without you is not something I’d like to know, so I will not break the bond.”

Your body went limp at his words. You wanted to be mad, wanted to feel something towards him about denying you the only thing you wanted, but you felt nothing but understanding. Even in your short time together, you could already feel a friendship forming, knowing that if the roles were reversed, your answer would be much the same. You nodded, finally speaking, “I understand, and I thank you for what you have been able to do for me.”

Brining your hand to his lips, he placed a soft kiss against your skin, “Of course, y/n. You are more than welcome to stay in my home for as long as you need. What’s mine is yours until you no longer need it.”

You nodded your thanks as he headed for the door, leaving you and Eris in his absence. Flipping the covers off of your body, you stood, stretching the led from your limbs before walking slowly to the water pitcher and pouring yourself a glass.

The room filled with the sounds of your gulping as to drained it, refilling the glass twice more before you felt your thirst was sedated. Turning, you found Eris still watching you, seeming unsure of what to do, of whether to stay or go. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t ready to be alone, to face the pain, so you nodded at him, a silent answer to his unasked question.

Moving again, you made your way to the wardrobe, raking through the clothing before selecting a golden day dress, perfectly made for the Day Court weather. Rushing into the bathroom, you splashed water on your face, feeling utterly disgusting. Turning, you began running the water in the shower, not having the time or mental capacity for a bath. You made quick work of cleaning yourself before dressing, returning to the bedroom to find the heir dressed in a fresh change of clothes.

Fidgeting with your fingers, you nervously asked, “Would you accompany me for a walk in the gardens?”

Without missing a beat, he gave you a small smile before holding out his arm to you, “Of course, y/n.”

As you walked to him, you couldn’t help the slight blush that bloomed on your cheeks at the sound of your name coming from his lips. Linking your arm through his, you allowed him to guide you out of the room, slowly winding through the halls until you were met with the open archways that lead to an ornate flower garden. You stopped, turning your face to the sun for the first time in weeks, feeling a weight lift off of your shoulders, finally feeling some semblance of peace in the suns company.

When you opened your eyes, you found Eris watching you, “What?” He shook his head, saying nothing as he pushed forward, beginning your lap around the flowers. The question bugging you finally broke free, “What are you doing here? If I’m allowed to ask, my Lord.”

“Eris. And I had a meeting with my brother, all though I was not expecting to find the Shadowsingers mate here, seeking a way out of the bond.”

You frowned, “We might still have a bond, but that man is not my mate.”

He laughed, and your eyes widened, thinking he was laughing at you before he spoke, “Finally, someone who might hold a stronger dislike for him than me.”

“Dislike is putting it mildly.” You huffed.

As you rounded the corner, Eris spoke with slight hesitation, discomfort lacing his words even as his curiosity was apparent, “May I ask you a question?"

You nodded, waiting expectantly, “What happened? Why do you want to rid yourself of both the bond and him so badly?”

You sighed as the familiar wave of sadness crashed into you, although this time it was dulled by the presence next to you, “He cheated on me.” His eyes widened, “Pass your congratulations to the High Lord and Lady of Night. They are expecting a niece or nephew in the coming months.” Eris let out a cough, clearly surprised.

You knew what he was wondering, “Elain. Elain is pregnant with Azriels child.” You paused, gazing at a particularly beautiful flower before continuing, “I suppose I shouldn’t be too mad. I didn’t think he’d cheat, but at least that’s where the surprises ended. Well, aside from the babe.”

He nodded, and you didn’t miss the way he pulled you closer, “I am sorry that he was unable to truly appreciate the gift the Mother herself gave him.”

You smiled, actually smiled for the first time in a long time at his words, heart beginning to feel something small once more. As you continued to walk with the Autumn Court heir, you found yourself increasingly more interested by him, wanting to prolong your time together.

————————————

It had been two weeks since that day in the garden and nearly one week since Eris had left. It wasn’t anything personal. You knew that, but it didn’t stop the way your heart ached when you thought about him, the way it ached for him. Whether you qanted to admit it or not, you missed him.

He’d been in the Court visiting with his brother, claiming they had unfinished business to take care of, an excuse that could only keep him here, with you, for so long. After dressing one morning, you’d rushed out of your room to find him, only to be met with a note. He’d left it in front of your door, not wanting to wake you, his letters informing you of his trip back home. You hated the way your heart sank in your chest, the way tears stung the backs of your eyes in disappointment. He’d claimed that he would come back as soon as he could, but you knew better. Status or not, he could not come and go freely without an excuse, especially not with his father watching his every move.

Lucien had just left, the two of you enjoying breakfast together once again. The ritual had begun the day Eris left, his brother coming to find you that very morning, insistent that you join him before his Court duties. The male had grown on you, his kindness and humor giving you something to look forward to each morning. But it was the dark look in his eye that had your heart aching once more. It baffled you to think that Elain could’ve possibly turned him away. Despite their rocky past, he was more than deserving of her love. At least that’s what you would’ve thought. Now, however, you knew he deserved better than her, and even after only a few weeks with him, you knew he deserved better than anyone. You smiled to yourself, knowing that even with the worries he’d shared about taking over this Court someday, he would do great things.

The room fell silent, a sound you’d grown to despise. You made to move, wanting to escape the quiet as quickly as you could when a figure appeared. At first, you’d thought that Lucien had come back for something, but as you looked up, you realized that was not the case.

Eris stood in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression. Pushing out of the chair, you made your way to him, ignoring the way your pace seemed to quicken with each step you took. You didn’t stop until you were nearly chest to chest with the male, his scent wrapping around you and immediately putting any pain at ease. You tipped your head back, smiling slightly as you tried to keep your emotions in check.

Your voice was barely above a whisper, “Hi.”

“Hello, y/n.”

Your heart swelled at the sound of his voice, needing more of it desperately. Smiling, he held his arm out to you as he had every morning, as if no time had passed. Sliding your arm through his, you allowed him to pull you through the halls, knowing he was taking you to the garden, meaning to pick up where you’d left off.

You weren’t sure you wanted to know, afraid that it would mark a time he’d need to leave again, but you needed to know, “What did you tell them? To come back here.” To me begged to follow, but you didn’t let it.

He shrugged, “I told him that Lucien and Helion had something I wanted.” He paused, glancing at you for only a moment, “I told him that I wasn’t leaving until I had it.”

Nodding, you thought, curious as to what he wanted, hoping selfishly that it took him a long while to get whatever it was, wanting the peace he brought you. Peace that confused you.

During his time away, Lucien was about the only thing keeping you sane, keeping you from folding into yourself and letting the pain take over. Even with the heir to Day Court, there was still a war within you, making you question whether or not you should give in and let the pain take over. It was different with Eris, though. You didn’t feel any of that, hardly felt the pain Azriel had given you, and for reasons unknown to you, he brought something that felt a lot like happiness with him. Your mind wandered as you walked, knowing the male next to you was also lost in thought, the two of you happy to simply be in each others company.

————————————

You shot up in bed, hand clutching your chest, waiting to feel it again as tears sparked in your eyes. Moonlight filtered into the room, darkness greeting you as it tugged again, your very being being met with waves of pain and sorrow, feelings that were not entirely your own but shared nonetheless. The frayed strand within you pulled once more, the sensation sending you over the edge as your feelings warred with each other, thoughts clouding. You were met with feelings, feelings of memories. You knew each of them because he’d shared them years ago, the two of you curled up in bed as Azriel shared everything you made him feel, a moment that had meant the world to you.

He was in your head, and you hated it. You were on autopilot as you rose, hurrying out of your room and winding through the halls until you stood before a door. His door. Knocking once, you waited, suspended between the two males as the door opened.

Eris stood before you, hair tousled from sleep, his pajama pants slung low on his hips. You couldn’t help the way your eyes scanned his bare chest, heat blooming in your cheeks despite what was happening.

Concern laced his voice, “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You hadn’t noticed the tears that were rolling down your cheeks until you spoke, voice cracking, “The bond.”

Those two broken words were enough. Eris grabbed your arm, pulling you into the room and closing the door behind you before guiding you to the edge of the bed, sitting you on his mattress before kneeling in front of you. Looking to the side, you saw the sheets that were messy with sleep, a pang of guilt shooting through you as you realized you’d woken him up. His hand grasped yours, the other moving as his fingertips brushed along your jaw, turning you to face him.

He spoke softly, “What about the bond?”

Carefully, he swiped the tears away from your eyes as you spoke, “It’s… It’s Azriel. He’s messing with it and I— I don’t—”

He shook his head slightly, eyes changing as the fire behind him roared, calming seconds later as he looked to you, throat working as he seemed to struggle to keep his tone even, “It’s going to be alright. He can’t do anything. They don’t know where you are.”

You were relieved that he seemed to understand, not wanting to voice your concerns of half of the things you were feeling, not sure how to convey any of it. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before rising, backing away from you slightly.

“I can have someone send some tea to your room. Run a bath for you, anything that might help.”

You shook your head at his words, standing and grabbing his hands, “No. Please, I can’t be alone. I— I just can’t.”

His chest rose as he inhaled deeply, eyeing the mattress behind you, “Would you like to stay here?”

Swallowing, you nodded, feeling the slight tension that seemed to be growing as the seconds passed, “If that’s alright with you.”

Clearing his throat, he nodded once, watching you carefully, “Of course. I will move to the couch and you can take the bed.”

“I don’t mean to kick you from your own bed, Eris.” You looked behind you, seeing the amount of space, “I won’t hog the blankets, I promise.”

He laughed, spell broken as you added, “And as long as you don’t snore, we should be good.”

His cheeks were flush as he continued to laugh, shaking his head, “I don’t.”

You smiled, letting yourself fall back onto the bed, making yourself comfortable as he walked around, climbing in next to you. As your eyes finally began to close, sleep nearing, you felt yer another tug that had you jolting, tears spring up once more as Azriel flooded your senses again. One look to Eris had him pulling you closer, arms wrapping around your waist as he tucked you to his side, both of you knowing it was the only thing he could offer you.

————————————

You awoke to an empty bed, hands reaching out and finding the other side of the bed cold, lacking any explanation of his absence. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, worry flaring in you as you began to wonder if the previous night had been a mistake. Blowing out a breath, you stood, glancing around his room before heading to the door and beginning the trek back to your own bedchambers.

Your body ached, wounded soul seeming more tender after the events that ended with you Eris’s arms. Although your frustration with Azriel was still very much prominent, you couldn’t help the way your stomach fluttered as you remembered the gentle way Eris had rocked you to sleep, resting his head atop yours, swaying you until sleep took over. Shaking those thoughts away, you exited, meaning to make your way down to the dining room, stomach already growling, but instead were met with Lucien.

The male smiled at you, “Morning, y/n.”

You gave him a half smile, “Good morning, Lucien.” Looking to the floor, you hesitated before asking, “Where is Eris?”

Holding his arm out in silent request, he answered, guiding you to the dining room, “He said he needed to take care of something.” Sensing your disappointment, he added, “But he’ll be back tonight.”

Nodding, you walked with him, spending the rest of your day in his company, finding yourself smiling and laughing for the first time in what seemed like forever.

As the sun dipped past the horizon, you readied yourself for bed, glancing at your pillows before turning for the door. Winding through the halls, you hesitated for only a moment before entering Eris’s chambers, finding his bed made and empty. You weren’t sure why, but something about the room calmed you, its owner easing the ache within you and making daily life that much more bearable. Crawling beneath the sheets, the scent of embers and spice surrounded you, calming your mind and allowing sleep to creep in. As your eyes were shutting, you heard the door creak open seconds before the bed dipped behind you, an arm coming to wrap around you, tucking you closer, his warmth seeping into you.

You caught the faint smell of night-chilled mist and cedar as your mind went still, sleep pulling you under before you could give it a second thought.

————————————

Eris looked down the street, finding the address Helion had given him early that morning. His arms ached, already missing the feel of the female still fast asleep in his bed, wanting to get back to her as soon as he could. Stepping up to the door, he didn’t bother knocking, twisting the knob and pushing his way inside.

The house was dark, faintly smelling of you, bottles strewn across tables, all of them long since empty. Walking in further, he spotted a form hunched over, half-full liquor bottle in hand. Seeming to feel eyes on him, the male lifted his head, rushing to stand the second he recognized his visitor.

Eris didn’t give it a second thought before he was in front of him, throwing a punch at the Shadowsinger. A fire seemed to light in his hazel eyes, one that Eris was more than happy to take on, thinking of the mess you’d been last night, a fire of his own infighting, anger fueling him. Azriel stumbled back, seeming to debate something before lunging.

His attempts were weak in his drunken state, his fists easily deflected as Eris raised his own, landing a few good hits before backing up. Azriel watched him, chest heaving as he began trying to piece together why the Autumn heir was in his home. It clicked seconds later, his head snapping up.

“Where is she?”

A cold laugh escaped Eris as he shook his head, “That doesn’t concern you anymore.” Azriel opened his mouth, a rebuttal on his lips that was quckly cut off, “I came here not because I wanted to see you sulking, but to warn you.”

Azriel cocked his head in confusion, waiting for more.

“Leave y/n the fuck alone. Try any more shit with the bond, and I will be back.” The fire in his eyes could’ve burned the city as he glared at the Shadowsinger, “And I can promise you that I will not leave until I can guarantee that you will never hurt her again.”

Any protests made buy the male fell on deaf ears as Eris turned, leaving the estate and beginning his trip back to Day Court. Back to you.

==================================

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He picked up the roses from the passenger seat, a nod to the night they’d met, pocketed his keys and stepped out of the truck. He felt dazed as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. 41B, Y/n had told him. When he reached the door, he hesitated to knock. Such a minuscule part of the night, but the mere act of coming to her door felt like the beginning of…everything.

Three raps broke Y/n from her panic party.

She’d put on an old record, hoping it would ease her nerves. It hadn’t done a thing. She stood up straight, drawing a deep and tried to force confidence through her body.

When Y/n opened the door, Joel lost any and all words he’d been thinking over in his head. She was dressed in a simple yellow flowered dress, but it was her wearing it that melted Joel. She looked like sunshine itself.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“Hi,” Joel exhaled, “Sorry if I’m late.”

Y/n looked at the clock near the door, “Only a minute. I think I can excuse that.”

Joel huffed a nervous laugh. What came next?

“These are for you,” he stated, holding out the flowers.

Roses. Y/n was shocked that Joel had remembered the tiny detail of their night in the bar. Tommy’s nickname was going to stick so long as she stuck around the Millers, she had a feeling…

“They’re gorgeous,” she giggled, “You’ve got a good memory.”

Joel gave a half shrug, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans after.

Y/n felt like her brain had stopped processing for a split second. She jumped back to reality, “Come on in, I’ll go get these in some water.”

Joel followed her into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. It was modest, minimally decorated but the walls had pictures strung all over them. He could already tell she was more sentimental than materialistic. The roses had been a good decision.

Y/n made her way to her kitchen, carefully balancing as she crouched down to dig through her cabinets for a vase. Flowers. He’d brought her flowers. What guy did that on a first date? Was that a Texas gentleman thing? She didn’t particularly care, it was one of the sweetest gestures someone had ever made towards her. And tying it back to the night they’d met made it that much sweeter.

“Nice place,” Joel called from the entry area. The apartment was open so if the front door was one end, the kitchen was stretched twenty feet away from it.

“It’s decent,” Y/n replied, filling the vase with water, “Moving was such a spur of the moment decision, I didn’t think I was going to find anything.”

Joel awkwardly balled his fists at his side, he didn’t want to walk too far and cross a line. It was only then that he realized there was music playing.

“Linda Ronstadt,” he blurted.

“Oh yeah,” Y/n smiled, heading over to turn off her record player, “You like her?”

“Love her,” Joel replied, good taste in music was another box ticked for him.

“Okay,” Y/n announced, more to encourage herself, and crossed the room, “All set.”

She grabbed her purse off the hook and Joel opened the door for her.

“Where are we going?” Y/n asked as she locked the door.

This was the part Joel was dreading most of all. “Yeah,” he began, shoving his hands in his pockets, “There’s a place ‘bout ten minutes away called Tito’s. It’s, uh, it’s not the fanciest place but-“

Feeling a sudden, and most likely brief, wave of confidence wash over her, Y/n turned around and put her hand on Joel’s chest.

“Hey,” she smiled, “I don’t care about any of that. I work in a hardware store, I’m not expecting Seasons 52.”

Weight both lifted and slammed into Joel’s chest. If Y/n’s laugh could warm it, her touch could give it new life.

A corner of his mouth quirked upwards, “Okay.”

With an affirmative nod, Y/n allowed Joel to lead her down the stairs, open the car door for her and take her deep into the Friday night Austin scene…

—————————————

Tito’s had ended up being the perfect place.

There was very little a fancy restaurant could add to a date. Sure, the setting could be romantic, but that didn’t guarantee romance. At the end of the day, whether you went to the biggest hotel in the city or a fast food joint, it all boiled down to feeling that spark.

Joel and Y/n’s spark could have set fire to Austin.

“So wait,” Y/n tried to contain her laughter, they were seated out on the patio, “Tommy seriously nailed his pants…to the wall?”

Joel took a swig of his Budweiser and shrugged, “And tried to blame the nail gun.”

Y/n covered her mouth as she snorted, “So no tequila the night before a job anymore, huh?”

Joel shook his head, pointing off into the distance, “And a mile down the road, he just shot straight up in bed because I told you that story.”

Another round of laughter. “Oh gosh,” Y/n sniffled, “Can’t imagine what you two were like as kids.”

“You have any brothers or sisters?” Joel asked, every time he asked her a question, he got to stare at her. It had made him more chatty than usual.

“Two,” Y/n answered, “Sister and a brother, both older.”

“Baby of the family,” Joel observed.

“Yes, and as the age-old tale goes,” Y/n scrunched her nose and smiled, “I’m the little lost bird. Brother’s an Ivy League english teacher who vacations in Europe every year. My sister’s married to a ridiculously successful doctor and just had a baby.”

Joel listened carefully, coming up confused. “I’m not following,” he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin, “What about that makes you lost?”

“They’re both very settled,” Y/n answered, swirling her beer, “They both knew exactly what they wanted in life and they went for it. One of the whole reasons I moved to Austin was to try and find that…thing, you know?”

Joel nodded, “Yeah, I get it,” he decided to lighten the mood, “And the hardware store’s it, huh?”

Y/n smiled and rolled her eyes, “No, the hardware store’s not it. But it makes me happy.”

“That’s a step in the right direction, then,” Joel commented, never taking his eyes off of her.

Y/n could have sat there for the rest of the night just enjoying the warmth of his stare. “So,” she shook herself out of the daze, “What about you? Is construction your thing?”

Joel laughed under his breath, “Pays the bills. Wasn’t originally what I saw myself doin’, but it’s work.”

“What did you want to do?” Y/n asked.

“Music,” Joel answered, “Guitar.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, “You play?”

“I used to,” Joel said, knowing the question that would come after. That was the true test…”Still do sometimes, just for myself.”

“What made you stop?”

Joel sighed, staring down at the condensation that his beer had formed on the table. Either he was about to bring the night to a grinding halt or…well, he hadn’t seen the second option yet. From anyone.

“I met someone,” he started, “We had a kid. She ran out on me pretty soon after. Not a lot of time left over to go around playin’ gigs.”

The chatter around them seemed to fade as Y/n took in the reality of Joel’s answer. He was a single father, and had been for a while, it seemed. All of him made complete sense suddenly. The constant worry lines on his face, the responsibility, the work ethic…

“Boy or a girl?” Y/n took a chance and asked.

“Girl,” Joel answered, a small smile coming to his face, “She’s about to turn thirteen.”

Y/n continued, “What’s her name?”

Joel was surprised, more than surprised, that Y/n wasn’t running the other way. There weren’t a lot of women who willingly took on single dads. Here she was wanting to learn about his little family.

“Sarah.”

Y/n nodded, letting the information rest on the table. “Sarah,” she echoed, “What’s she like?”

“She’s…” Joel let out a laugh under his breath, “She’s incredible. Gets straight A’s, plays soccer, got room in her heart for just about everyone she meets…”

Y/n listened enthusiastically as Joel told stories about his stories as a single dad. How Tommy was helping to raise Sarah, how the three of them were extremely tight knit, how he wished his long hours didn’t interfere with getting to spend time with her…not even for a second did she think about leaving.

“You love her so much,” Y/n blurted before she could think it through. She just had to say it.

Joel smiled warmly over his beer bottle, “She’s my world.”

It was a moment so tender, it almost broke your heart. Joel was letting Y/n closer than anyone else had gotten…ever. And she wasn’t pulling away, she was digging in.

Inside the restaurant, there was soft music playing over a dance floor. Joel and Y/n had eyed it all evening, wondering if their night would inevitably end up there. From outside on the patio, they could hear the song change to one they both knew.

“I love this song,” Y/n said in passing.

Joel had been waiting all night for his nerves to calm or for the perfect song to transcend pass the anxiety. This was as good as it was going to get.

“You wanna dance?”

Y/n’s smile spread across her face, “Yeah.”

Joel stood and held out his hand for Y/n to take, their palms tingling at the touch. He kept a loose hold on it as he led her into the building, snaking through the crowd and onto the dance floor. Their were couples packed wall to wall, but they were able to find a pocket of space just for them.

Y/n’s heart did double time as she rested her hand on Joel’s broad shoulder. Joel pulled her towards him, connecting their hands and holding them up. They hadn’t yet been this close and it felt as intoxicating as they thought it might.

Joel’s hand rested on the higher part of Y/n’s hip. He exhaled shakily, hoping she hadn’t noticed. Slowly, they began to sway to the soft guitar.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you….

It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do….

They moved as one, Y/n’s gaze resting over Joel’s shoulder because she knew if she looked in his eyes, she’d be overwhelmed.

Joel’s desires were doing battle with his self-control. He wanted to wrap himself around her entirely, leaving no space between their bodies. He would, of course, leave it up to her. She got to decide where the night went.

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you…

And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you…

Their chests brushed against each other, sending a thrill through their bodies. The second it started to fade, Y/n chased it, inching closer to Joel till their torsos aligned.

Joel’s head instinctively turned towards her just as she looked up. Y/n’s nose grazed his cheek, his beard delightfully scraping her skin. If they had intended to make eye contact, they never made it there. With Joel’s breath fanning her face and the scent of his cologne enveloping her, Y/n didn’t dare move and disturb the perfection.

No, I don't wanna fall in love…

(This world is only gonna break your heart)

Feeling confidant that she wouldn’t pull away, Joel’s arm slid around Y/n’s waist, his hand resting across her lower back. Y/n’s skin felt inflamed, like the building’s walls had fallen and the heat of the night was swallowing her whole. Her cheek fell against Joel’s closing the very last bit of space that laid between them.

No, I don't wanna fall in love…

(This world is only gonna break your heart)

With you…

That was it, it was a done deal. There was nothing left for them to do but let themselves fall. Their hearts hammered in time with one another, their respective anxiety intertwining at the base of their souls and transfiguring. Instead of a storm, raging, crashing, knocking them over, it became a wave, powerful and passionate. Drawing strength from each other, they allowed the full force of their feelings to flood them.

When the night was over, Joel drove Y/n back to her apartment. They’d chatted on the drive over, but the dance had left them both stunned. Where was there to go from there? What were they supposed to say when a whole conversation had been had in each other’s arms?

They walked up the stairs, coming to Y/n’s door and nervously pausing.

“I had a great time,” Y/n said, fiddling with her keys in one hand.

“Me too,” Joel smiled, broader than his usual thin lipped smirk.

The space between them grew tense. Who was supposed to ask who out for a second date? Were they supposed to kiss? What was-

“So…” Joel set aside all his excessive thoughts, “Did I earn a shot at a second date?”

A laugh rippled through Y/n’s body, thankful that he’d been the one to bring it up. Drawing from Joel’s confidence, she closed the space between them and placed a hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“I think your chances are pretty good,” she softly told him.

Joel’s heart throbbed at both Y/n’s touch and her words. His hand found its way to her waist, not wanting to let the closeness go just yet. They only needed to move a few inches, just a few measly inches and then they’d have it all.

Joel’s breath fanned Y/n’s lips as they allowed themselves to be drawn into one another. The delicious space, hanging on the edge of desire and satisfaction, was enough for them. That was how they knew there was something different to what they felt. Just to be close was enough.

“Maybe we should wait,” Y/n whispered in their shared space, pressing her fingers into Joel’s shoulder a little, “Wouldn’t want to rush anything.”

The tip of Joel’s nose rubbed hers, admitting a defeat that didn’t feel like one. “Wouldn’t want you to think you can take advantage of me or somethin’,” Joel smirked, “I have my reputation to think of.”

Y/n’s laugh mingled with Joel’s, her skin tingling as he brushed a stray piece of hair from her face.

“I’ll call you,” Joel assured.

“I hope so,” Y/n smiled before daring to press her lips to his cheek, “Goodnight, Joel.”

“Goodnight,” Joel choked out, the touch of her kiss paralyzing him.

She unlocked her front door and headed in, Joel stood on the welcome mat until the lock clicked. Alone in the concrete hall, he boyishly kicked his foot and grinned.

Y/n rested her forehead against the front door, shaking her head and grinning.

Joel got down to his truck, started it up and fell back in his seat.

Y/n laughed against the door, playing the night back in her head.

Joel smiled and slapped the steering wheel.

They felt weightless.

—————————

2023. Outside Boston.

Grief hung like a storm cloud over the group.

Y/n had left Joel and Ellie to make a lavatory out of nature, and was walking back. They’d camped overnight in a forest, a few miles outside of Boston. Joel had instructed they were leaving as soon as the sun came up.

When she got back to their camp, she found Ellie sitting up against her tree near the creek, Joel’s jacket draped over her legs.

“He’s still not back?” Y/n asked.

“Nope,” Ellie popped her lips.

Y/n rolled her eyes, if Joel was going to boss them around, he needed to comply with his own demands. She set off into the forest, going the same way he had.

The sound of the larger creek welcomed her. She scanned the area, looking for Joel’s tall frame and finding nothing. She slapped her hands against her legs in a shrug, if anything had happened to him, they’d be dead too. Where was-

The scrape of stones caught her ear.

Y/n gazed down to see Joel, hunched over on the river’s bed of rocks. With a fair bit of distance between them, Y/n could see him stacking stones. He was building a cairn.

He was building Tess a grave.

Y/n’s feelings contradicted themselves. Joel’s loss of the woman he cared for felt karmic, in a way, and yet the sight of him, so broken and empty, reminded her that bitterness had no place commingling with loss.

She didn’t disturb his memorial, she simply leaned against a nearby tree. Tess’ last wish hadn’t been selfish, she had begged for protection for Joel. They were, perhaps, the most heartbreaking final words Y/n had ever heard. She’d promised Tess, what else was she supposed to do? She couldn’t let Tess die in a horrific sacrifice thinking that Joel would meet her soon after.

Y/n sighed, letting her head hit the tree. The day was already exhausting her.

She decided to let Joel have a few extra minutes, walking back to their campsite. Ellie was in the exact same position as when she left. All of this trauma was being rehashed for one girl, but Y/n still believed she was worth it.

Footsteps behind her signaled that Joel was back from his solitary service. He didn’t look in either Y/n or Ellie’s direction, only trudging to his backpack and squatting beside it. It had been a near silent walk from Boston, Ellie asking Y/n an occasional question or Joel giving directions. They were all avoiding each other for different reasons.

Joel blamed Ellie.

Y/n blamed Joel.

And Ellie blamed no one, but could sense tension when she saw it.

“You want your jacket back?” Ellie asked Joel, testing the waters.

Joel continued digging through his backpack, responding with a small shake of the head. He still refused to look at her. The only gesture he made was after digging out and taking a bite of food, he threw the remainders to Ellie.

“I’ve never been in the woods,” the girl continued talking, “More bugs than I thought.”

Y/n leaned up against a tree, waiting and watching how the interaction played out.

“Look, I’ve been thinking about-“ Ellie started.

Joel rose to his feet, throwing his backpack over his shoulder, “I don’t want your sorries.”

Ellie sat forward, “I wasn’t gonna say I’m sorry. I was gonna say that I’ve been thinking about what happened. Nobody made you or Tess take me. Nobody made you go along with this plan. You needed a truck battery or whatever, and you made a choice. So don’t blame me for something that isn’t my fault.”

Joel’s eyes scanned Ellie before looking to Y/n, who simply raised an eyebrow at him. She was in total agreement. And the truth was, Joel didn’t have a reason to put any of what happened on Ellie. But he wanted someone to be angry with, someone to fling his grief at so that he wouldn’t have to deal with it any longer.

The rational side of him won out. He gave Ellie a small nod, mentally collected himself and picked up his rifle. It was time to hit the road.

Ellie got up and handed Joel his jacket, “How much longer?”

“Five-hour hike,” he answered.

Y/n collected her backpack, tied her jacket around her waist and came to stand with Ellie.

“We can manage that,” the girl shrugged, she was the most confidant out of all three of them.

Joel glanced over at Y/n again, the two of them communicating their indifference wordlessly, before turning on his heel.

Y/n put a hand on Ellie’s head and waited for Joel to be out of earshot, “Attagirl.”

Ellie smiled up at the woman and they fell in step a few feet behind their guide.

Joel got them out of the woods and onto a dirt path, leading their party silently and expecting the same in return. Y/n was perfectly content not to utter a word, but Joel was quickly learning something she already knew; Ellie didn’t do “quiet.”

“You’ve gone this way a lot? No infected?”

“Not often, no,” Joel answered.

“What are you looking out for?” Ellie asked.

“People.”

“Oh,” she rested a beat, “Are Bill and Frank nice?”

“Frank is.”

Y/n stepped forward to walk alongside them, keeping to Ellie’s side. “You haven’t told us anything about them,” she spoke up.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Joel answered.

“I’m entrusting two strangers with our lives,” Y/n scoffed, “There’s a lot to tell.”

“They’re good,” Joel said with finality to his tone.

“Oh, well…” Y/n mumbled under her breath, she was over the whole What-I-Say-Goes front.

Ellie was undeterred by their bickering. “How’d you get that scar on your head?”

Joel sighed, already exasperated and it was barely morning.

“What? Is it something lame?” Ellie inquired excitedly, “Like, you fell down the stairs or something?”

“I didn’t fall down any stairs,” Joel answered.

“Okay, so what then?”

Joel paused before speaking, “Someone shot at me and missed.”

Y/n hated the jolt of concern that shot through her chest. Old habits and all that.

“See, that’s cool,” Ellie insisted, “You shoot back?”

“Yeah,” Joel said.

“You get him?”

“No, I missed too. It happens more often than you think.”

Ellie thought it over, “‘Cause you suck at shooting or, like, in general?”

Joel glanced at her, vaguely insulted, “In general.”

Ellie fell back a step to get a look at Y/n. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Y/n echoed.

“How’d you get this scar?” Ellie poked the white mark on her bare shoulder. She didn’t feel comfortable touching Joel, but she was comfortable with Y/n.

By now, Y/n had scars littered all across her body. Ellie could have pointed to almost any one of them and she would have had to think about where it came from. But the one in the rivet nestled between her scapula and her clavicle was one she could never forget.

“A bullet ricocheted off a wall,” she answered, “Hit me instead.”

“That’s slightly less cool than his,” Ellie commented.

Joel caught himself before he hung back a step to get a look at the mark. It was instinct to worry about her.

“You know, seeing as it’s just the three of us,” Ellie began, “I was thinking I should prob-“

“No,” Joel cut her off, already knowing what she was after.

“Yeah, well, Y/n might feel different,” Ellie said, looking to her only ally.

“She doesn’t,” Y/n answered, smirking slightly at her blind enthusiasm.

They walked a few more feet before coming up on a once-white building.

“Cumberland Farms,” Ellie read the sign.

“Hang back a minute,” Joel instructed them both, though he knew it was useless, “I gotta grab some stuff I stashed.”

“Stashed?” Ellie questioned as she followed, “Why do you have stuff stashed here?”

“You ask a lot of damn questions,” Joel complained.

“Yes,” Ellie smiled, owning every bit of her personality, “I do.”

Joel forced open the door to the old storefront and they entered. It looked just about the same as how he and Tess had left it a few years back.

“So are you gonna answer me or what?” Ellie continued.

Joel relented, “We hide supplies on routes, in case we find ourselves short on gear, which I currently am ‘cause-“

“No way,” Ellie zipped over to the other side of the room, honing in on an old arcade game.

Joel ignored her, Y/n simply smiled to herself.

“You ever play this one?” Ellie asked without really seeking an answer, “Oh, I had a friend who knew everything about this game. There’s this one character named Mileena, who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth-“

While Ellie continued chattering, Joel was pacing the floor, trying to remember where his hiding place had been. Y/n crossed her arms and watched amusedly.

“You forgot where you put your stuff,” Ellie stated.

Joel was quick to defend himself, “No, I’m just zeroing in on it. It’s been a couple of years.”

Ellie and Y/n peered over at one another, sharing a knowing smirk.

“Go see if you can find anything in back,” Y/n instructed, Ellie would have gone even without the prompting, “Practical.”

“Trust me, it’s all been picked over already,” Joel grunted, shaking a wall display.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Ellie replied in a sing-song tone, “Is there anything bad in here?”

“Just you,” Joel called out.

“Ah,” Ellie rolled her eyes, “Getting funnier…”

Y/n set down her backpack, deciding to help speed up the process so they could get back on the road. She walked over to a section of floor that Joel hadn’t searched yet and started kicking around.

“I don’t need help,” Joel muttered.

“If we leave it to you and your shitty memory,” Y/n strained as she shoved a shelving unit with her shoulder, “We’ll be here till dark.”

Joel didn’t want to get drawn into an argument, he also couldn’t resist the person starting it. “My memory’s fine.”

“Oh, really?” Y/n waved a hand across the floor, “Point to the treasure.”

Joel’s lips thinned in frustration, mostly with himself for not being able to find the stash before she latched onto it.

“It’s somewhere on this aisle,” he begrudgingly told her.

“This aisle,” she repeated, the two of them going in opposite directions.

After a minute or two, there was a sound from the back room. “You all right back there?” Joel called.

“Yep!” Ellie replied.

“How likely is it that she’s doing something she shouldn’t be?” Joel asked Y/n, who had weeks more experience curbing Ellie.

Y/n jumped in place on a loose piece of the floor, “100%.”

Joel exhaled and continued searching, eventually feeling a slight raise in one of the tiles. He kicked a few old newspapers aside to discover his hiding spot. And better yet, he’d found it before Y/n did, taking away the opportunity for gloating.

He knelt down and flipped open his pocketknife, cutting open the cover and removing it.

Y/n stopped her hunt and came to crouch down next to him, visually sifting through the supplies. There wasn’t much.

It went against Joel’s natural programming to not be concerned when the back room went silent. Ellie had been gone long enough to have picked through everything at least twice. “Ellie?”

No response.

Now Y/n was on edge as well, rising with Joel. She raised her voice a little louder than him, “Ellie?”

They both unholstered their guns, walking in rhythm together towards the back room. Joel stuck a hand out to form a barrier between whatever unknown threat might have been lurking and Y/n. She annoyedly shoved it away and aimed her gun at the doorway.

They unclenched when Ellie walked out, touting a box of tampons. “Picked over, my ass,” she commented.

Y/n and Joel returned to the stash, Joel unloading his assault rifle and Y/n picking through a tin of first aid supplies.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked Joel.

“There’s not much ammo out there for this thing,” he replied, bringing the lid back down over the supplies, “Makes it mostly useless.”

Ellie saw an opportunity, “Well, if you’re just gonna leave it there…”

Joel stood to his feet and made direct eye contact, “No.”

Y/n stood up, slung her backpack over her shoulder and lightly pushed Ellie ahead of her. Tess was no longer there to keep occupy Joel and she wanted to put as much space between the two of them as possible.

They were on the dirt road for another hour or two, time didn’t seem to matter in the middle of nowhere. Ellie barely complained, content to take in all that nature had left to offer. At some point, Y/n and Joel had fallen in step with one another. Even sworn enemies would have cracked under pressure and started hurling insults at one another. Their ability to stay silent with one another was unmatched.

“So,” Ellie eventually killed the quiet, “Are you ever going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Y/n replied.

“Why you two broke up.”

Joel scrunched his eyes shut, the darkness of his lids a more preferable place to be.

Y/n took the hit and answered, “We never said we dated.”

“You didn’t have to. You knew each other in Texas but you don’t talk,” Ellie began to list off her reasons, “And when you do talk, it’s only to fight.”

“Friends fight too,” Y/n suggested.

Ellie scoffed, “Not like you two.”

There was passion that bled through Joel and Y/n’s arguments that was only born from love. It was one thing they’d never be able to change.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Ellie continued, “I’ll just know that I’m right.”

Joel stopped short, putting a hand up to Ellie and trying to stay calm. “You do not need to say every fuckin’ thing that pops into your head,” he said, driving certain syllables harder than others.

Ellie was unfazed by him, turning her gaze to Y/n. “Was he always this grumpy?”

Y/n sighed, her time in Austin was a piece of her past she didn’t want anyone having. The obviousness of her and Joel’s fractured connection bothered her, it made it that much harder to sever it entirely. She picked up the pace again, getting ahead of Joel and Ellie.

Joel’s eyes followed her, something inside of him twinging against his will. He spared a glance at Ellie and continued on the path.

“Yeah,” Ellie smiled to herself, “They dated.”

They walked a little further before Ellie got distracted by something in a field. “Holy shit,” she exclaimed.

Up on a hilltop lay the rusted remains of a plane crash. The three of them stopped, it was getting harder for Joel and Y/n to remember a world where things like airplanes had existed.

“You fly in one of those?” Ellie asked,

“A few times, sure,” Joel answered.

“Yeah,” Y/n said.

Ellie’s excited eyes scanned the wreck, “So lucky.”

“Didn’t feel like it at the time,” Joel recalled, “Get shoved into a middle seat, pay twelve bucks for a sandwich…”

“Or hit turbulence,” Y/n remembered.

“You got to go up in the sky,” Ellie stated, her voice filled with wonder. Another simple pleasure stolen from her…

Joel had always been more of a realist than Y/n, who wanted Ellie to hold on to whatever pieces of happiness she could. “Yeah, well, so did they,” he added, killing the levity of the moment.

“Grim…” Ellie commented as they continued walking. “So everything came crashing down in one day?”

“Pretty much,” Joel answered, giving Y/n space to interject. She’d gone silent again.

“How?” Ellie asked, “I mean, no one was infected with Cordyceps, everybody’s fine, eating in restaurants and flying in planes. And then all at once? How did it even start? If you have to get bit to be infected, then who bit the first person? Was it a monkey? I bet it was a monkey.”

Y/n almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Almost.

“It wasn’t a monkey,” Joel answered, “I thought you went to school.”

“FEDRA school,” Ellie replied quickly, “They don’t teach us how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic.”

Joel sighed, he couldn’t fault her for wanting to know how her world was destroyed before she’d even gotten there.

“No one knows for sure, but, best guess,” he began, “Cordyceps mutated. And some of it got into the food supply. Probably a basic ingredient like flour or sugar. There were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere, all across the country, all across the world. Bread, cereal…”

Joel and Y/n didn’t have to look at one another to know they were having the same thought.

“Pancake mix,” Joel continued, “You eat enough of it, it’ll get you infected. So the tainted food all hits the store shelves around the same time, Thursday. People bought it, ate some Thrusday night or Friday morning. Day goes on…they started to get sick. Afternoon, evening, they got worse,” Joel paused, a flash of blood coming to his mind, “Then they started bitin’.”

Y/n shut her eyes, as if it was all playing out in front of her again.

“Friday night,” Joel was able to push out, “September 26th, 2003. And by Monday, everything was gone.”

Y/n didn’t know whether to scream or stay quiet. Her entire world had come crashing down in a span of 72 hours.

“It makes more sense than monkeys,” Ellie said, then looked at Joel, “Thanks.”

“Sure,” he replied. Joel still wasn’t sure what to do with her, but he was trying. He only had to try for a few more hours, anyway.

Y/n kept her eyes down as she walked, only stopping when Ellie and Joel fell out of step. Joel had his arm stretched over Ellie’s chest to keep her in place.

“What now?” Y/n asked, nearing her breaking point with patience.

“We’ll cut across the woods here,” Joel directed.

“Isn’t the road easier?” Ellie asked.

“Yeah, it’s just,” Joel took a breath, looking ahead to Y/n, “There’s stuff up there you shouldn’t see.”

Y/n chortled, she couldn’t take any more of his mood swings. One minute he didn’t care, the next he was watching out for their sensitive eyes?

“Well, now I have to see,” Ellie sang, walking ahead to join Y/n.

“I don’t want you to,” Joel pushed.

“Newsflash, Joel,” Y/n announced, “It’s the fucking apocalypse. We’ve all seen things we don’t want to see.”

Joel paced after them, chasing Ellie more than his ex, “I’m not kidding. Ellie!”

“Can it hurt us?” Ellie asked as Y/n fell behind her.

“No,” Joel answered truthfully.

She spun around to face him as she strolled, “You’re too honest, man, Should’ve said axe murderer.”

While Ellie walked ahead, Joel sped up to match Y/n’s pace. “I’m serious, she shouldn’t see it.”

“You know what,” Y/n didn’t break stride, “I’m sure our delicate little sensibilities can handle whatever it is.”

Anger is intoxicating, but it can also be all-encompassing. It can numb all other senses, blinding all other emotions until the red is staining every part of someone’s perspective. Y/n’s rage with Joel was deceiving her into thinking everything that came out of his mouth was either an insult or an overreaction. Joel knew that the second she found what he was trying to shield her and Ellie from, she’d regret it instantly. But it was futile to fight her.

“Uh, whatever it was,” Ellie called from the front of the group, “Think it’s gone.”

Y/n felt sure of herself as she trudged on, until the details of Ellie’s expression came into view and she followed the girl’s eyes. There in a ditch, lay skeletal remains. If you reconstructed them, they probably made up about a dozen people.

“About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers…” Joel started to explain to Ellie, “Went through the countryside, evacuated the small towns. Told you you were going to a QZ, and you were…if there was room…if there wasn’t…”

“These people weren’t sick?” Ellie inquired.

“No,” Joel replied, “Probably not.”

“Why kill them?” Ellie continued, “Why not just leave ‘em be?”

“It was their fucked up way of trying to contain the infection,” Y/n spoke up, trying to hide her trembling breath. It wasn’t the first open grave she’d seen, this was one of the easier ones to stomach. This was all bones.

Y/n turned on her heel, eager to get as far away from the hellish memories as she could.

————————————

Eventually, they made it to where Joel told them Bill and Frank lived. It was a small chunk of a town completely gated by a tall fence.

“Stay here,” Joel instructed Y/n and Ellie before punching in the entry code on the gate’s keypad. He let them go through first, it was the only place safe enough to do so.

Y/n’s breath caught in her chest, it was the first time she’d seen an actual town in…she’d lost count of the years. The white picket fences, the boutique shops, the houses. Actual houses. It nearly brought tears to her eyes, it reminded her so much of Austin.

The three of them walked to Bill and Frank’s house, the nicest looking one on the block. Joel took notice, however, that the flowers decorating the front porch were dead. Scorched by the sun. Bill would never let that happen.

He opened the front door, taking cautious steps into the entryway. Y/n and Ellie followed close behind.

“What the fuck,” Ellie elongated, it was probably her first time inside an actual house.

“Bill?” Joel called out. No answer. “Frank?” Nothing.

Shit.

“You stay there,” Joel directed Ellie, not looking Y/n’s way since she was going to do what she wanted anyway, “Ya hear anything, you see anything…yell.”

Joel and Y/n didn’t make it more than one step before Ellie spoke up, “What if they’re gone?”

No. Joel couldn’t think about that. He didn’t want to grieve over one more person.

Y/n set off down the hallway, keeping her pistol drawn at her side. Joel had gone through the kitchen, but the two rooms were connected. They made it to the bedroom door at the same time, Joel knocking and jiggling the knob. Nothing.

“Would they leave?” Y/n asked.

“No,” Joel shook his head.

The back porch door shutting got their attention.

“Ellie?” Y/n called, getting nothing in return. She set off back to the dining room where they’d left her, Joel just a step behind.

She was sitting at the table holding a piece of paper. Her expression was undeterminable, like she was between emotions and deciding which one to land on.

“It’s from Bill,” she finally told them.

Y/n sighed, holstering her gun, taking off her backpack and settling into a chair between Joel and Ellie. Joel put away his weapon too, neither of them needed to pretend there was any hope.

Ellie scanned the envelope the letter had come from, “‘To whomever…but probably Joel,’” she tossed it back onto the table, “I figured I fell under “whomever.” It came with this.”

She slid a single car key across the table.

Joel shrugged his backpack off next to Y/n’s, but wouldn’t sit. “So they’re dead?”

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed.

Joel turned away, the very little emotion he let himself feel coming to the surface.

“You-you wanna?” Ellie offered.

He shook his head, “Go ahead. You do it.”

Y/n leaned against her knees, holding her hands to her lips, bracing herself.

“August 29th, 2023,” Ellie began to read, “If you find this…please do not come into the bedroom. We left a window open so the house wouldn’t smell, but it will probably be a sight. I’m guessing you found this, Joel, because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehe-“

Ellie looked up in confusion, Y/n gave a small nod for her to continue.

“Take anything you need,” she kept going, “The bunker code is the gate code but in reverse. Anyway…I never liked you, but still, it’s like we’re friends, almost…And I respect you. So, I’m gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong, because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do, and God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep-“

Ellie sucked her bottom lip, not knowing how to proceed. None of them had to ask what the next two words were.

Joel stepped forward robotically and took the letter, reading the rest over silently. Tess’ name struck a blow to his body, he wanted to curl in on himself.

“Stay here,” he mumbled, striding towards the front door with barely contained hurry.

Y/n shut her eyes, keeping her hands in a praying position. It was the first time in twenty years she couldn’t tap into the anger that lived inside her. She felt pure sorrow that Joel had to lose someone else he loved, regardless of whether he’d ever admit to loving Tess.

Outside, Joel took deep breaths that at one time would have been described as cleansing. But he felt no better when he inhaled than he had before. Bill’s letter weren’t just his last wishes, it was a call to action. He couldn’t have known the situation Joel was in when he wrote it, but he supernaturally addressed every part of it. He lifted up a silent apology to Tess, for not being able to save her.

Joel crumpled the letter in his palms and let it drop to the grass. He held up the key Bill had left him, forcing himself to move to the garage doors and open them.

Y/n and Ellie sat up straighter upon hearing the noise. “Stay here,” Y/n echoed Joel, rising up and heading out to see what he was doing.

She walked around to the open garage doors to see Joel hunched over the front of a truck. The hood was open and he was investigating its internal organs. Y/n had barely caught a glance at the empty spot where the battery should have been before Joel slammed it shut. There went that happy thought…

Joel’s eye caught the refrigerator nearby, a couple cans of oil and other auto supplies sitting on top of it. Bill had been a survivalist, it was his nature to prepare for every possible outcome. He crossed the space and opened the fridge, spotting the materials needed to construct a car battery from scratch

He smirked, maybe they had been friends…

Y/n joined him at the door, she was no mechanic but the men throughout her life, Joel and Tommy included, had taught her enough about car repair to know they were battery parts. A spark of hope lit inside her.

It dwindled in both her and Joel when the reality of what it meant hit them.

Y/n suddenly felt too close to him, she moved away and crossed her arms, going to stand on the furthest side of the truck. Joel didn’t move until she stopped, coming to stand on the other side of the vehicle. They wanted a proper barricade between them.

Y/n had made a promise to Tess that she would protect both Ellie and Joel. In the moment, it had seemed like the only honorable thing to do. Now, staring down the task itself, she wanted to admit her selfishness and run. Run back to the QZ, back to the Fireflies, back to the only semblance of safety she had. And with every turn she made in her mind, Ellie was waiting for her. Ellie was at the center of this all. She was the job. Everything else came second.

“If we do this,” Y/n started, her words slowly and cautiously calculated, “You are going to have to start treating me like an equal. I am not some delicate flower that you need to protect and I’m not some child in need of protection. We’ve already got one of those. I live in the same world you do. I didn’t hesitate to kill that Clicker,” she pointed behind them as if the monster’s carcass was present, “And I won’t hesitate going forward.”

Joel looked up at her out his eyebrows, “Can you blame me, last time I knew you?”

“We don’t need to keep bringing us up,” Y/n shook her head, a joyless smile on her face, “We are completely different people. Matter of fact, think of us as strangers. We only know each other from this point forward.”

Joel thought it over a second, accepting the truth of it. “Okay,” he said, “But you have to trust me that I know the best way to get to Wyoming-“

“I don’t trust you,” Y/n retorted.

“I don’t trust you either,” he echoed, bitterness rising to both their surfaces.

Y/n bit down on her bottom lip, if this was going to work, they needed to put away all of their past. Not just the good parts.

“We have to put this on ice,” she said, “What matters…is her. That is all that matters. Not us, not what happened…her.”

Joel’s thumb twitched against the hood of the truck. There were many questions he’d been wanting to ask Y/n, but there was one that was non-negotiable if he was going to take on this task with her

“Do you actually believe that she’s the answer to this?”

Y/n’s face softened, only slightly, but enough for Joel to see the gleam hope in her eyes. “I do,” she replied, earnestly.

Joel breathed a heavy sigh, looking down at the truck. He glanced back up at Y/n, scanning her up and down as if to take full stock of the woman she was now. “Okay.”

Y/n nodded, her body alight with apprehension. “Okay.”

A ceasefire had been called.

“I’ll start on the battery,” Joel announced, eager to get away from the conversation as quick as he could, “Can you do a once over on this thing?”

“Yeah,” she answered, forcing past the hurdle that was doing something Joel asked of her.

They worked in silence, Y/n checking that the car was in working condition and Joel constructing their battery. It was the first time they’d been able to tolerate each other’s presence in the last two days.

After a half hour, when Y/n was long past done, Joel stepped back and examined his work. “It’s gotta charge for a while,” he announced, “But it’ll work.”

“Okay,” Y/n sighed, glancing over at him before heading back out the garage. Joel was close behind.

They came back into the house, finding Ellie waiting for them at the table still.

“Show me your arm,” Joel ordered, he needed to be 100% certain that she was safe to transport.

Ellie stood and rolled up her sleeve, the second bite still had blood caked around it, but it was clearly healing. They had no reason to doubt it would continue that way.

“I just finished makin’ a truck battery,” Joel said, “It’s charging right now.”

“Okay,” Ellie replied, her face showing a hint of hope.

“And I have a brother in Wyoming,” Joel continued, “He’s in some kinda trouble, and I’m heading out there to find him. He used to be a Firefly. And my guess is he knows where some of ‘em are out there. Maybe they can get you two to wherever this lab is.”

Ellie’s eyes bounced between Y/n and Joel, “All right. Uh,” she began to fiddle with her hand, “Listen, about Tess-“

Joel held up a hand, he took a second to collect himself before speaking. “If I’m takin’ you with me, there’s some rules you gotta follow. Rule one, you don’t bring up Tess. Ever. Matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves.”

Y/n made a mental note of where Joel was emotionally.

“Rule two, you don’t tell anyone about your…condition,” Joel focused his eyes on Ellie, trying to drive the point home, “They see that bite mark, they won’t think it through. They’ll just shoot you. Rule three,” he pointed between him and Y/n, “You do what we say, when we say it. We clear?”

“Yes,” Ellie answered.

“Repeat it,” Joel demanded.

Ellie took a breath, “What you say goes,” she looked between the two adults once more, “Are you two gonna be able to get along?”

Joel glanced over his shoulder at Y/n, who was leaned up against the door frame. She had her hands tucked behind her as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible. They communicated their truce with their eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” Y/n said to Ellie, maybe saying it would make it so…

Joel sighed, it felt like he was signing on a metaphorical dotted line. “Okay,” he finally said.

The three of them stood in the dining room, all with their own separate reservations but with no choice in the matter. They needed each other, even if no one dared to admit it.

“So what now?” Ellie broke the silence.

“We grab what we can,” Joel responded, “Let’s check the bunker first.”

He brushed past Y/n, who followed with Ellie in tow, and located the hidden entrance to Bill’s bunker. Joel climbed down the ladder first into the pitch black room. Flipping on the lights revealed walls of canned goods, guns, supplies, various tools and first aid kits. In the middle lay a desk setup with a laptop playing music and monitor screens showing footage of outside the house.

“Ho-ly shit,” Ellie said for both her and Y/n, “This guy was a genius.”

“Little bit,” Y/n added, scanning the walls, “Back then, everyone called people like him crazy. I’m guessing he was okay with it.”

Joel went to work at the computer, switching off the song.

“Why was the music on?” Ellie asked.

“If he didn’t reset the countdown every few weeks,” Joel explained, “This playlist would run over the radio.”

Ellie glanced over the screen, assured now of her theory from the day before about Joel’s radio codes. “‘80s.”

Joel didn’t really care anymore, “Grab some cans from over there. Nothin’ dented or swollen.”

Ellie wasn’t so easily distracted, she was still gazing at the guns. “Dude,” she started to draft another pitch.

“No,” he replied without even looking up at her.

“There’s a whole wall of them,” she declared, as if that made a difference.

Joel shot her a glare, signaling there was no discussion to be had. Searching Y/n out again and receiving a frown in response, Ellie backed off and went to collect the canned goods.

Y/n traced her fingers across the wall of guns. She doubted her pistol was going to get them very far. It had taken an assault rifle and an axe just to kill the Clicker that had attacked them.

She loathed to ask Joel for help, but she was good at shooting, not specs. “Which one takes the most basic ammo?”

Joel peered up from the monitor screens, the sight of her standing amongst so many weapons was still a little shocking. “That beige and black one,” he nodded in her direction, “Standard shotgun.”

Y/n nodded once in awkward thanks and removed the gun from the wall, testing the weight and feel of it. She crossed the room to one of Bill’s work tables and took a box of bullets, stuffing it in her jacket pocket.

“I’m gonna start upstairs,” she announced, strapping the shotgun over her back and climbing up the ladder.

The three of them worked around the house, collecting any and all supplies they could possibly need. Ellie found toilet paper, Y/n found some unopened dry goods, Joel found clothes for them. It was strange to think that once upon a time, desires had felt like essentials. A new TV, concert tickets, expensive wine…Y/n felt like she was seeing heaven when Joel pulled out a box of women’s t-shirts.

Joel monitored the battery closely, it wasn’t charging as fast as he wanted it to. “Needs another hour,” he told them.

“They have hot water!” Ellie exclaimed, soaking her hand under the garage’s running faucet, “I’m takin’ a shower. And then you’re showering, because seriously,” she turned to Joel and scowled as he headed back to the house.

Joel stopped what he was doing, unsure of how to respond. “I smell that bad?”

Y/n was sorting through some shelves, collecting a few tools they could take with them for the truck. “I’m not even answering that,” she replied.

Joel took what he could from her answer. “You take the next one,” he offered, trying to put his money where he mouth was and bench their grudge.

“Should I be offended?” Y/n fired back, raising one eyebrow. “Thank you,” she finally said.

Joel gave a nod in reply before getting back to work.

Y/n eventually headed inside to wait for Ellie to be done. The girl emerged with wet hair in fresh clothes.

“That felt so good,” she groaned in happiness as she passed Y/n in the hall.

“I bet,” Y/n smiled, “There extra towels in there?”

“Yep,” Ellie called, she was already halfway down the stairs, passing Joel as she descended.

If Y/n and Joel had dodged any awkwardness in the past 48 hours, it had boomeranged back around and slammed into them. They stood in the hall, keeping three feet of space between them and struggled for words.

“I’ll be quick,” Y/n said finally, heading into the bedroom that connected to the bathroom.

“Sure,” Joel replied, fiddling with his fist at his side.

Showers were one thing that no one ever took for granted anymore. Water supply in the QZ wasn’t consistent, one day you could have warm water and the next it’d be ice cold. You couldn’t count on anything to stay the same. So when Y/n had complete control of the temperature and made it burning hot, she felt like she could cry from pure joy.

Joel stood outside the bedroom door, leaned up against the wall. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Sweet images of early mornings with Y/n stormed past his defenses, flooding his brain. How she looked with wet hair, the smell of her skin after using some soap he couldn’t remember the name of…he tried to ignore the fact that it was all on the other side of the door.

Y/n emerged from the shower a few minutes later, having gotten all the dirt out of her hair and nails, and wrapped a threadbare towel around her torso. She quickly dried off and changed into the new clothes Joel had found them. It was a plain t-shirt, a men’s button up to go over it and a plain pair of jeans. Gone were the days of dressing up because you felt like it. It was a stupid thing to miss, but Y/n felt the loss regardless.

Dressed, she opened the bathroom door. The sound signaled that Joel could come in.

He came around the corner, having just put his memories to bed when he saw her. Pruny, barefaced and natural…the way he’d always loved her.

“All yours,” Y/n muttered, unable to break the eye contact they held.

Joel cleared his throat and his mind, “Thanks.”

“I’m just gonna be here,” Y/n gestured to the dresser and the attached mirror, “Try and get a comb through my hair.”

“Okay,” Joel nodded.

He walked past her, their shoulders brushing as he did, and closed the bathroom door behind him. It was the first time they’d touched in twenty years.

Now anger was rarely ever born from just anger. No one hated someone just to hate them. There was always something deeper beneath it. More often than not, anger found a companion in heartbreak. They’d collide, morphing together to make something so complicated, you couldn’t tell one apart from the other.

Y/n reached for a spare comb, her trembling hands causing her hair to catch in the teeth. Harboring the anger had been effortless, it was a fire that stoked itself. It was the pain, the flame that started the blaze, that was causing her to feel like she was burning, from the inside out.

The tears welled in her eyes, she refused to let them fall until her reflection was nothing but a blur. She dropped the comb on the dresser, and fell back onto the bed. It could no longer be contained.

Joel had broken her, destroyed her. The loss of him was a hurt that had refused to fade with time. She could feel her heart splitting back open just being around him, the same way it had the day that they’d parted. She wanted to scream, to cry, to break the way she had after he’d left. With the simple act of calling a truce and playing nice, she had reopened the wound she had spent twenty years trying to heal with her unbridled bitterness. She was bleeding out.

On the other side of the door, Joel was propped up against the shower with one hand. Rivulets of the stream dripped down his hair and face. He stared down at the drain, his emotions mixing and swirling much like the water at his feet. Joel had never considered himself particularly favored by the world. There were only two times when he’d felt like there was some higher power bestowing happiness upon his unworthy head.

The first was when Sarah was born, when he got to hold her for the first time.

The second was when Y/n entered his life.

Now her mere presence felt like a punishment. A reminder of what he’d done to her, a child’s taunt of a love he could never go back to. Knowing she was on the other side of the wall caused every muscle in his body to tense. Joel was still himself, regardless of what the pandemic had turned him into. The guilt he’d long tried to drown was rising to the surface, threatening to rebel and throw him underwater. Mixed with the fresh loss of Tess, he was overwhelmed. If he didn’t keep repeating the same three things to himself, she lied, she’s a liar, she’ll lie again, he would collapse entirely.

Y/n sniffled, rubbing her fingers under her eyes in a desperate attempt to stop her tears. She was so tired of crying over Joel. She wished for blind hatred, not the memory of his smile. Bitter regret, not the ghost of his lips. She couldn’t take another time of looking into his eyes and seeing the man she had loved with her whole heart.

Had they known that with a mere twelve feet of space and one shoddy door between them, it still wouldn’t have changed anything. Their chapter was over.

Needing distance, Y/n got off the bed and combed her hair as she walked down the stairs. She found Ellie seated in the front room at the piano.

Ellie turned to her and smiled, “Well, that’s an improvement.”

Y/n bristled, “Be nice to me. I am keeping you alive, after all.”

Ellie hummed as if that was up for debate and turned back to the piano, “You ever learn to play one of these?”

“A little,” Y/n replied, coming to join her, “I played as a kid, not as much when I was an adult.”

“You wanna play something?” Ellie suggested, it didn’t feel like it was for Y/n’s benefit so much as her own.

Y/n motioned for Ellie to make room and settled in next to the girl. It had been over twenty years since she’d felt ivory beneath her fingers, and this one was a beautiful model. She wracked her brain for songs where all the chords were still intact.

She placed her hands accordingly, pressing down on the first keys.

“Slow down, you crazy child,” she softly sang, “You’re so ambitious for a juvenile. But then if you’re so smart, tell me, why are you still so afraid?”

“You can fucking sing?” Ellie cried excitedly.

“Where's the fire, what's the hurry about,” Y/n kept going, “You'd better cool it off before you burn it out. You've got so much to do and only so many hours in a day.”

Ellie swayed a little, taking in the curiosity of the person she hardly knew, yet liked better than anyone. She couldn’t help herself from sneaking a finger onto a key and quickly pressing down.

“Don’t mess me up,” Y/n laughed as she continued to play, “But you know that when the truth is told, that you can get what you want, or you can just get old.”

Joel had just pushed his wet hair back and buttoned up his shirt he’d found. Renewed by the hot water, he grabbed the stick of deodorant he’d used and left the bathroom. The music and it’s sweet accompaniment drifted through the bedroom door, hitting Joel and rendering him breathless for a moment. All he could feel was her, wrapping her arms around him with each word.

Ellie continued to hit random keys at inopportune times, Y/n’s knocked her shoulder against hers.

“You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through,” Y/n crooned, her grin causing her to enunciate differently.

Joel quietly made his way down the stairs, feeling his body unnaturally relax with each note Y/n sang. Her voice hadn’t changed at all.

“When will you realize,” Y/n did a little flourish with the keys, leaving Ellie no room to mess with the melody, “Vienna waits for you.”

When she removed her hands, Ellie clapped and whooped. The mood had been so dark since the day of the shootout, it felt like a single ray of light was shining down on them.

Joel watched her sing the last line from the hall, it was like his memories had come to life right in front of him. How hard was it to bury the past when it was everywhere you looked?

Ellie turned around and saw Joel, “Well, don’t you look pretty.”

Y/n rotated on the bench and faced Joel. It was unfair that he seemed to be getting more handsome with age. With his hair slicked back and his plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, it stirred up a singular butterfly in her stomach. She was quick to put it down.

Joel’s eyes flashed to Y/n before catching himself and looking back to Ellie, “Shut up.”

He tossed her the deodorant. “Nice,” she commented, swiping it on before handing it to Y/n. “Hey,” she trailed after Joel, “Did you know Y/n can sing?”

Y/n snorted as she used the antiperspirant. Ellie was the only thing keeping her spirits up on the trip. Everything else hurt, but the young girl’s joy acted as a balm.

Joel went back out to the garage to confirm the battery was charged up. He installed it quickly and headed back into the house. “We’re good to go,” he announced, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Ellie and Y/n grabbed their jackets and bags, the three of them filed out of the house in hopeful silence. They shoved their things in the back seat of the truck, leaving one side clutter-free.

“Why don’t you take the front?” Y/n suggested to Ellie, already climbing in the back.

Ellie jumped into the passenger side, a toothy grin spread across her face as she started fiddling with the foldout mirror.

“It’s your first time in a car?” Joel asked from beside her, not the slightest bit amused.

“It’s like a spaceship,” Ellie said wondrously.

“No, it’s like a shit piece of Chevy S10,” Joel grumbled, “But it’ll get us there…I think. Seatbelt.”

Ellie glanced up from playing with the radio dials, confused.

Undeniably in sync with each other, Y/n reached through the gap between Ellie’s seat and the window as Joel reached over the girl and pulled the belt over her body. “Seatbelt,” Joel repeated.

Ellie took it from him and clicked it into place, “So cool…”

Y/n watched from over their shoulders. It wasn’t lost on her how it had taken no time for Joel to start acting like a parent again.

Joel started up the car as Ellie dug through the glove compartment. She held something up to Joel that Y/n couldn’t see.

“Put it back…” Joel directed, “Ellie…”

Ellie ignored him, popping in the cassette tape and hitting play. Soft guitar rang through the truck’s speaker system. Ellie was about to skip the song when Joel and Y/n piped up at the same time.

“No, no, wait-“

“No, leave it.”

Their words collided, surprising them both. It was the first thing they’d agreed on.

“This is good,” Joel said as he made a turn, “This is Linda Ronstadt. Do you know who Linda Ronstadt is?”

“You know I don’t know who Linda Ronstadt is,” Ellie rolled her eyes.

Y/n smirked from the back seat before the nostalgia washed over her again. The song had been a favorite of hers for decades, but there was one night in particular she distinctly remembered playing it on.

Joel drove down the path that led to the gate, letting the song fill the cracks of him left by all the beauty disappearing from the world. There was still a musician living inside him. “Oh, man…” he muttered.

In the rear view mirror, Y/n and Joel’s eyes flickered to one another. The second their gazes connected, they diverted them back to the road. In their minds, they were back in Y/n’s shitty apartment, leaving for their first date.

“Eh,” Ellie remarked, “It’s better than nothing.”

Y/n couldn’t contain the chuckle that bubbled from her lips, nor could Joel hide his flash of a smile. She was going to make them both feel ancient before their journey was over.

Joel pressed the gate code on the remote Bill had left in the garage, the gate opening for them like the parting of the Red Sea. Even he, in all his jadedness, felt some sort of hope.

Y/n settled against the window, taking one last look at the town Bill and Frank had kept up over the years. Their legacy was one not of sadness, but of renewal. They had supplied her, Joel and Ellie with the resources to go forward with their journey. They were helping them in their mission to change the world. It was a kindness she’d never get to thank them for, but she’d certainly never forget.

They drove into the sunset, golden hour embracing them and welcoming them onto the open road. Maybe, just maybe, this was the turning point for them…

————

A/N: Just an FYI, we hit the 50 mentions limit so the taglist will be split between the post and the comments :)

It was easy to ignore Tommy’s ramblings, but Joel couldn’t deny there was some truth to what he was saying. After Sarah’s mom up and left them, he kept his heart guarded from the world. Sarah and Tommy were the only ones he had the space to love. No, not the space. He had all the capacity in the world to hold someone else close to his soul, he was just too afraid of getting hurt again.

A few feet away at the bar, Y/n twirled her wine glass in her hand. Navigating a new city and a new job was taking it out of her. There had been no catalyst in her decision to move to Austin. She wasn’t running from a bad relationship nor did she need space from her family, she’d just wanted a change. So far, aside from the random heat wave, she was enjoying herself. The people were friendly, the neighborhood was quiet…she could see herself eventually calling the place home.

As she enjoyed her own company, a muscly man approached the seat next to her. He didn’t even do her the courtesy of asking if it was taken.

He flashed a pearly smile at Y/n, “Havin’ a good night?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded, not looking up from her glass.

“Haven’t seen you around here,” the man continued, “You new to town?”

Y/n politely smiled, wishing he’d taken the hint. “Sure.”

“Findin’ your way around alright,” he put his elbows on the bar, indicating he wasn’t going anywhere, “Or are you thinkin’ you need a tour guide? Someone to show you around? Help make you feel a little more comfortable?”

Y/n was fighting the urge not to laugh, she’d seen dogs in heat more subtle than this guy. “I’m doing fine on my own, thanks,” she replied, her will to smile fading with each second he stayed.

“I don’t know,” the guy dragged his fingers up and down the condensation on his beer bottle, “You seem a little lost to me, darlin’. I got a hog outside, we could head out…night scene’s pretty wild here.”

Y/n took another sip of her wine, “Not really a wild kind of gal.”

The man’s lingering stare was beginning to make Y/n’s skin crawl. It was like he was staring straight through her clothes. He leaned in to her, his arm grazing hers, as if the close proximity was imperative to what he was about to say.

“I got this theory that inside every woman,” he lowered his voice, “There’s a wild girl just waitin’ to come out. She just needs the right cowboy,” he paused, a smile spreading across his lips, “To let her loose.”

Concealing her annoyance, Y/n looked down at her glass bashfully. She peeked back up out of her eyelashes, “What’s your name?”

“Jacob,” he answered.

“Jacob,” she repeated sweetly, leaning in closer to him, “Going around trying to prove how big your dick is ain’t gonna make any woman want to touch it.”

Jacob pulled back a little, shocked at both the comment and how easily being foul mouthed came to this woman. Y/n scrunched her nose and gave a sugary smile before moving to get up from her stool.

Jacob grabbed her shoulder, not prepared to lose the battle. “Hang on there, sweetheart.”

“Let go of me,” Y/n was quick to say.

“I don’t think you quite understand what I’m offerin’ you here…”

“Let,” Y/n gritted her teeth, raising her voice slightly, “Go of me.”

Jacob began to close the space between their faces, “What’re you gonna do if I ain’t ready to say goodbye to ya yet?”

“Hey.”

Y/n turned to the two men who had approached while she was fending Jacob off. The one with the mustache swung his fist and landed a shiner on Jacob’s nose. The whole bar gasped as he stumbled backwards, clutching his now bleeding face. The mystery man placed an arm in front of Y/n, making himself the barrier between Jacob’s advances and her safety.

Once Jacob caught his footing, revealing just how tipsy he was, he clumsily stalked back towards them. The second man stepped forward and effortlessly threw a punch to Jacob’s abdomen, knocking him off his feet and to the ground. The other patrons actually clapped and cheered at the knockout.

The man shielding Y/n and his friend grabbed Jacob’s arms and pulled him to his knees. Dane, the owner, came out from around the counter and marched towards the door. The men dragged Jacob through the bar, taking no care to his hands and feet as they knocked into chairs and tables. With Dane holding the door open, they threw him out, earning another round of cheers from the bar.

Y/n watched it all with a hand over her mouth. The whole thing had left her more anxious than she cared to admit.

Her two saviors made their way through the room, earning pats on the back from most of the patrons.

“Are you okay?” The man with the mustache asked when they reached her.

“Yeah,” Y/n answered, trying to hide how her hands was shaking, “Are you?”

“Not the worst we’ve seen,” the clean shaven guy smiled, flexing his bruised hand, “But I think you’re gonna have to take a shower to get that creep’s touch off ya.”

Y/n chortled, the feeling of his fingers digging into her skin hadn’t left yet. “I’m really sorry you had to step in,” she said earnestly, “I’m not great with following through on my smack talk.”

“Nah, you were holding your own,” the cheerier of the two men laughed.

“Hey, can I buy you guys a round?” Y/n asked, “It’s the least I can do.”

“There’s no need,” the quieter guy shook his head.

“No, I want to,” Y/n insisted, looking between the two of them.

The one who had done most of the talking so far was the first to relent. “Fine, but we’re spotting your next glass. Just to try and restore the ever-deteriorating reputation of men.”

Y/n laughed heartily for the first time of the night. She liked them.

“Hey, Dane,” the talkative man flagged down the bartender and turned to Y/n, “What’re you drinking?”

Y/n held up her dwindling glass of rosé.

“Another rosé for the rosebud,” the man finished, winking at Y/n in a way that felt more playful than flirtatious, “I’m Tommy, by the way.”

“Y/n,” she took his extended hand and shook it before turning to the other man.

“Joel,” he pressed his palm to hers.

Y/n smiled, her eyes lingering on the man as they shook hands. There was a peace to him that she already knew she liked.

Y/n ended up at Tommy and Joel’s table, each of them sipping a victory drink and talking up a storm. It was one of the easiest conversations any of them had ever had.

“So you just picked up one day and,” Tommy made a swooping gesture, “Came to Austin?”

Y/n shrugged, “Just needed a change.”

Tommy whistled, “That’s brave.”

“I mean, it’s Austin,” Y/n chuckled, “It’s not New York,” she took a sip of the free rosé, “What about you two?”

“Nah, we’ve been here forever,” Joel answered, holding his beer to his lips.

Tommy raised his bottle to his brother, “Can’t even get this fucker to take a vacation somewhere.”

“Workaholic or homebody?” Y/n asked.

Joel was inhaling to answer when Tommy spoke up, “Both.”

“Nothin’ wrong with working hard or staying home,” Joel replied, throwing back a swig.

“Nah,” Tommy replied, smirking, “Only when you do it.”

Joel glared out the sides of his eyes at his brother. Y/n laughed against the rim of her glass.

“Well,” Tommy leaned against the table, “If you ever need a tour guide, we’re at your disposal. We’ll show you the real grimy hole in the wall places. Best food or beer in the city are always in the places you’d least expect it.”

Contrary to Jacob’s thinly veiled advances, Y/n took Tommy and Joel for exactly how they presented themselves. They were funny, they were gentlemanly, and they were the first people in Austin she’d met who she felt truly comfortable around.

Joel, who was naturally more quiet than his brother, had never felt more lost for words. He was trying to keep himself in check considering the happenstance of their meeting, but all he wanted to do was look at Y/n. When she laughed, something inside his stomach twisted. When their eyes met, his chest tightened. There was something about being around this girl that felt very, very different than anyone else.

“Well,” Y/n checked her watch, catching the late hour, “I’ve got the morning shift tomorrow and I can’t be too hungover. Thank you both for the company and the wine,” she smiled at Joel, “It was a big improvement on how the night started.”

“Yeah, we’d better go too,” Joel announced, rising to his feet with Tommy, “Gotta get a head start tomorrow before the storm moves in.”

Tommy gestured to his big brother, smiling at Y/n, “What’d I tell you?”

“I gotta side with your brother here,” Y/n smiled, scrunching her face a little, “Everyone needs a break. That’s kinda what weekends are for”

“See?” Tommy said, “Maybe you’ll listen to her.”

Joel was on the verge of busting out in to a grin. “Not my problem if you two are lazy,” he shot back.

Y/n and Tommy each gaped with laughter. Joel smiled, he’d wanted to hear her laugh one more time before they parted.

“Well, you two have restored the name of ‘men’ quite admirably,” Y/n grabbed her purse, “Thank you for what you did, really. If you hadn’t stepped in, tonight would have ended much worse.”

Tommy shook his head, “Don’t mention it. Just learn how to throw a punch,” he slapped his hand against Joel’s shoulder, “And I think we’ll both sleep better at night.”

“I’ll get on that,” Y/n chuckled. She wasn’t sure if it was the kinship she felt or the rosé had simply relaxed her, but she reached over to Tommy and gave him a one-armed hug.

“See ya around, Rosebud,” Tommy said, keeping his hand respectfully high up on her shoulders.

“See ya,” Y/n replied, pulling back to look at Joel. She wasn’t sure what she expected to happen, only that she wanted to memorize his face before she left. “Goodnight,” she said with a small smile.

Joel tried to ignore how his heart was thudding in his chest. “‘Night,” he replied.

His eyes followed her all the way to the door, till she stepped out into the steamy evening air. He wasn’t sure why he had to urge to follow her.

“You,” Tommy gripped Joel’s shoulder a little tighter, “Are fucked.”

Joel rolled his eyes at his little brother’s laughter, “The hell’re you talking about?”

Tommy fell back down in his chair, a hand resting on his chest, “You were fuckin’ smitten with her.”

“‘Smitten?’” Joel cringed, taking his seat and his beer, “What’re you, 14?”

“Fine, hot for, taken with, enamored, mesmerized,” Tommy chuckled, “Whatever you wanna call it…you liked her.”

Joel shrugged and took another drink, “‘Course I liked her. You liked her too.”

“Not like you,” Tommy shook his head, still grinning, “I think she liked you too.”

Pushing down the way his stomach jumped when Tommy said that, he glanced over at the door again. He looked back to the table, checking to see if she’d left anything. Maybe she’d have to come back. What would he do if she did? Would he ask for her number? Or was that too forward? He didn’t want anything he did to remind her at all of the asshat they’d tossed out-

“She didn’t leave anything, dude.”

Tommy’s voice brought Joel out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring at Y/n’s empty seat. There was no reason for her to come back.

“You’re fucked,” Tommy brought the conversation full circle, patting his brother’s shoulder and taking a drink.

Joel hid his disappointment, just like his infatuation; well, but not well enough. He looked down at his bottle, “Doesn’t matter. We’re not gonna see her again.”

Tommy shrugged, “Austin ain’t that big.”

Outside, Y/n was making the three minute walk down the street to her apartment complex. Her mind was no longer focused on the douche whose name she was already forgetting, all she could think of was how Joel smiled like he had a secret. How his laughter was reserved only for when he found something hilarious. How whether he was sitting beside his brother or punching out a handsy creep, he was completely relaxed. How his brown eyes were so warm, one gaze into them had given her goosebumps…

Y/n shook her head at herself, completely thrown for a loop. One encounter with one guy and she felt like there was some invisible string tugging harder with every inch of distance she put between herself and the bar. The chances of bumping into Tommy and Joel again in a city as big as Austin were slim. It was a reality she had to face. It was just one of those meetings that left you feeing like you’d experienced true magic. She was saddened at the thought of never sitting across from Joel again.

Into the night, with a total distance of seven minutes unbeknownst between them, Joel and Y/n each retired and prepared for their respective early mornings. Joel paid the neighbor who’d watched Sarah, Y/n called and checked in on her sister, who’d just had a baby. Joel kissed his daughter goodnight, Y/n finished up a load of laundry. They each changed into their pajamas, brushed their teeth, and turned out the lights. It was then, in the sweet space between sleep and consciousness that they let their minds drift back to each other….

—————————

2023, Boston

Of course it was raining. Rain made everything easier.

Joel, Tess, Y/n and Ellie trudged through the streets of what was once downtown Boston. Y/n kept a hand on Ellie’s back at all times, untrusting of both the people around them and the ones they were traveling with.

Even with the utter chaos they were in the middle of, Y/n’s mind was overtaken by the holes being burned into the back of her head. Joel’s stare was unfaltering. She wanted to turn around and scream at him, but that would garner the attention they were trying so hard not to attract. That was fine, she had more than enough anger and more than enough time to let him feel it.

Joel, whose every move was made with vigilante like precision, was struggling to keep his thoughts in order. The past was so easy to put behind you when you never had to look at it. Faced with the person who knew it all, had seen it all…the second he’d laid eyes on Y/n, it had all come flooding back. He had to get himself in check. Y/n’s unfiltered hatred was helping him there.

They made it to Joel and Tess’ apartment without any trouble, the four of them filing down the narrow hallway. Y/n pulled as far away from Joel as possible while they waited for Tess to unlock the door, which wasn’t very far. Once it was open, Joel impatiently waved for Ellie to enter, saving the same glare for Y/n. Ellie entered apprehensively, while Y/n knew enough to know that they were Joel and Tess’ leverage. Without them, they couldn’t get their battery. They were safe, for the time being.

“Give us a minute, all right?” Tess stated more than asked, heading back out to the hall.

“What the fu-“ Ellie started, the door silenced the last two letters.

Y/n put a finger to her lips, standing beside the door and listening to the other side of the door. Tess and Joel were discussing which route to take, something that infuriated her. There was only one child in their party, she refused to let Joel make her anything other than an equal.

She threw down her backpack and threw the door open. “If you two are planing on excluding me from the planning side of things, let me know now so I can strangle you both,” she said, smiling sweetly.

“You wanna tell us what we’re really doing with this kid?” Tess fired back.

“Not particularly,” Yn replied.

“Then you don’t get a voice here,” Tess looked to Joel, “We leave after dark. Stay with them.”

Joel took a step forward as his partner walked off, “Wait, why do I have to — Tess! Tess!”

Tess turned the corner of the hall without ever breaking stride.

Joel sighed loudly, eventually looking over to Y/n.

“She’s lovely,” Y/n snarked, earning a signature Miller scowl.

Joel nodded towards the door and Y/n slipped back inside, he kept an overly safe distance between them. Y/n unzipped her backpack and grabbed her first aid kit, sitting down at Joel’s table to tend to her bullet wound. Joel shrugged off his pack and threw himself on the couch. Ellie was splitting the distance between them, holding a large book in her hands.

“So,” the girl started, “Who’s Bill and Frank?”

Joel looked up confused, as if he couldn’t imagine how she could have possibly heard anything from the other side of the door.

“Oh, come on, Tool Time,” Y/n chortled, as she opened the bottle of disinfectant, “This whole place is paper thin.”

“The radio’s a smuggling code, right?” Ellie asked, “60s song, they don’t have anything new. 70s, they got new stuff. What’s 80’s?”

Joel got off the couch and ripped the book out of Ellie’s hands, throwing it to the side. He glanced over at Y/n, who was struggling to keep her grunts quiet as she cleaned her wound. A twinge of pain ran through his chest as she scrunched up her face, trying to keep her breaths steady. His fingers automatically twitched to help her, but it wouldn’t actually help anyone. Instead, he fought his instincts walked back to the couch and laid down.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked.

“Killin’ time,” Joel said, his drawl particularly noticeable.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out,” his eyes were already closed, just like the conversation.

Y/n began to use a q-tip to spread antiseptic cream over the wound, the cooling sensation dulling the pain.

Ellie took back the book and walked past Joel, “Your watch is broken.”

Four little words froze Y/n, hunched over the table with her supplies. She didn’t have to look to know that Joel’s eyes were open again. It was the second time today that they’d been perfectly in sync. The first was pulling their guns on one another and, to be honest, Y/n would have preferred to stare down the barrel of his pistol. Bullets were simple and easy to dodge, memories were more cunning and hurt significantly more.

Y/n finished dressing her wound, zipping the kit back up and throwing it in her backpack. She laid her jacket out to dry on the back of the chair and finally took a good look at her surroundings. She couldn’t have chosen a place more opposite to Joel’s 3-bed 3-bath in Austin. The floors creaked, the walls were stained, and the ceilings were uncomfortably low. Home was a fluid concept in the world they lived in, and the kind Y/n was thinking of was lost entirely.

“He’s fun,” Ellie grunted from her seat at the window.

Y/n scoffed, “You have no idea.”

If they’d be using the cover of night to travel, Y/n knew Joel had the right idea to sleep now. She pulled out a sweater from her backpack, bunched it up and set it on the ground across from the couch. Without any blankets, she made the call that a nearby rug would be the next best thing. She shook it out and placed it below the sweater.

“Try and get some sleep,” Y/n instructed Ellie, “You’re gonna need it.”

Ellie simply hummed and continued paging through the book. Y/n slipped under the dirty rug and sighed, she’d slept in worse places for much longer…

She took the moment of peace to finally take a good look at Joel. His eyebrows still furrowed as he slept, as if he was in a constant state of disapproval with the world. The rest of his face was softer, a strange contrast, but so very him. His chest rose and fell in a perfect rhythm. It was hard for Y/n not to remember how it felt to lay with her ear against his heart, lifting and lowering with him…

The QZ was small, and stories got around. Y/n had known for a while that Joel was in Boston. She’d also heard the stories of the things he’d done, the people he’d killed, and just how far he’d go to guarantee his survival. Despite not owing him anything, Y/n had refused to believe them. She adamantly denied the possibility that she could have ever loved a man capable of such hideous acts. The Cordecyps had changed them all in different ways, but she had to believe that Joel was still Joel…

————————————

“Hey.”

A mumble and a boot kick to the shoulder had Y/n startling awake. She rolled over to see Ellie, still sitting by the window with the book in her lap.

“How do you know him?”

Y/n squinted and sat up, her joints cracking as she stretched her limbs. The sky outside was pitch black, clearly she’d needed more sleep than she thought.

“He’s an…” she began to say, the complexity of the situation hitting her all over again. There was only one answer to give that wouldn’t invite any more questions. “I was friends with his brother a long time ago.”

Ellie’s seemed to accept it, “Where’re you from?”

“Texas.”

The girl’s eyes widened, “You lived in Texas?”

“Just for a little while,” Y/n replied, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes,

Ellie looked down at her hands and then out the window, “I’ve never been out that far.”

Y/n sighed, thinking about what it might be like to grow up never having known what the world used to be like. “You’re not missing much, kid,” she lied. She’d have gone back to Austin in a heartbeat, if it was at all possible.

“What’s ‘rosebud?’”

Y/n’s body went cold, as if she’d just been plunged into ice water, memories slamming into her like waves. A glass of rosé and belly laughter, a backyard game of football, soft lips whispering sweet nothings against her ear…

She looked over at Ellie calmly, “What?”

The girl nodded towards Joel, who was still peacefully sleeping. “He kept mumbling the word ‘rosebud,’” she replied, “Thought maybe it was a code word or something.”

It did serve as a codeword, containing secrets, laughter, and all the love that had once existed in Y/n’s world. Now the mere utterance cut her worse than any blade could.

“If it is,” Y/n got to her feet, not wanting to be anywhere near the word, “I don’t know what it means.”

Joel woke then, startling without any real physicality. He stared up at the ceiling, dazed from his dreams. No, nightmares. That’s what they were.

“You mumble in your sleep,” Ellie said, announcing her presence, “Something about ‘rosebud.’”

If that didn’t wake him up, nothing could. His eyes flitted across the room, looking for the woman who owned every inch of the word. When Joel couldn’t find her, he pushed up on one arm and found her sitting at his kitchen table with her back turned to him.

In his subconscious, he’d seen her as she used to be. Her eyes full of light, her smile like pure sunshine, laughter pouring out of her with a freedom so few people allowed themselves. He’d felt her soft skin against his, felt her lips pressed to his jawline, right between his neck and his ear. He’d known her for the first time in twenty years, only to wake up and find her ghost.

Joel swung his legs over the couch and rose, his knees and back aching. Getting older in a post-apocalyptic world felt extra cruel. He ventured over to the table, ready to test the waters and see just how bad of a time he was in for.

Y/n sighed in annoyance as Joel took the chair next to her. She needed distance she wasn’t going to get, from him and all that he reminded her of.

They sat in the most awkward silence either of them had ever known.

Joel was the first to break it, “You get some sleep?”

Y/n glared out the corner of her eyes at him, the first words he spoke to her after their confrontation and that was the first thing he said?

Joel’s chest tightened at her poisoned stare, he wasn’t going to get an answer. “Wound okay?”

“This whole thing’ll go a lot easier if you stop pretending to give a shit about me,” Y/n said quietly, the sharpness of her tone cutting through the volume, “We both know you don’t.”

The walls weren’t coming down. Joel knew that. He didn’t want them down. But after seeing her, full of energy and joy, he had to check and see if there was any bit of that woman left. His eyes scanned her skin, so many scars and scrapes where there had once been a smooth surface. Her hair was dry, streaks of oil laced like highlights through the strands. Her nails were chipped and caked with dirt underneath. But most noticeably, there were two prominent frown lines across her cheeks. That let Joel know that the woman he’d once loved was absolutely gone.

“What happened to Tommy?” Y/n asked. She couldn’t help herself, but she kept her tone frosty.

“Sent a message three weeks back,” Joel answered, his fist fidgeting against the table, “Haven’t heard anything.”

Y/n didn’t want to take any strolls with Joel down memory lane, but Tommy was…Tommy. She couldn’t deny that she still cared about him deeply. “Do you know where he is?”

“Wyoming,” Joel answered, looking past her eyes at the wall. He didn’t think he could handle speaking about his brother to her, of all people.

“Oh,” she said, “So you’re completely crazy now.”

That earned her a hardened gaze, as if Joel had anything else for her.

“I’ve never been on the other side of the Wall,” Ellie spoke up, “Look how dark it is.”

Y/n got up first, smoothing her tank top back down and leaning against the wall near the door. Joel followed, retaking his seat on the couch. They both pondered the same thing separately: how much life Ellie had missed out on just by being born in the wrong decade.

“You guys go out there a lot?” Ellie asked Joel.

“I guess,” he answered.

“When was the last time?”

“Maybe a year,” Joel quickly replied, he wasn’t enjoying all the questions, “What’s it matter?”

“But you know where to go,” Ellie clarified, looking too much like a kid, “So we’re gonna be okay.”

It was a fair question, and Joel couldn’t fault her for being scared. Fear was all she’d ever known.

“Yeah,” he answered, significantly softer than his last one.

Y/n’s eyes grazed the window, spotting the plastic butterfly that clung to the glass. After all these years, Joel had managed to keep it. It took all the self-discipline she had not to let her tears fall.

“So what’s the deal with you anyway,” Joel asked Ellie, “You some kind of bigwig’s daughter or somethin’?”

Both Ellie and Y/n knowingly smirked to themselves. “Something like that,” Ellie replied, “Oh, the radio came on while you were sleeping.”

“What?” Joel snapped to attention, leaning forward, “What was the song?

“He kept sayin’ like, “wake me up before you go-go?” Ellie answered, making Y/n and Joel feel much much older.

Joel knew what that meant, and it was nothing good. “Shit,” he whispered to himself.

Ellie’s smirk spread across her face, “Gotcha. 80’s means trouble. Code broken.”

Joel got to his feet, having used his patience up earlier in the day. “Listen-“

Y/n was between him and Ellie in a flash, sticking out a hand towards Joel. She was off limits, even for a light scolding. Luckily, the door opened up before anything could be said. Tess had returned.

“The spot under Lancaster looks good,” she reported, turning to Ellie after, “You got a jacket in your pack?”

“Yeah,” Ellie responded.

“Okay, get it. It’s time to go.”

Y/n stuffed her sweater back in backpack and went to retrieve her now-dry jacket. It had been a long time since she’d gone outside of the QZ, she couldn’t decide whether she was terrified or happy to step outside the fence.

Joel on the other hand felt like he couldn’t move. Between the fear over his brother’s safety, being close to Y/n once again and the daunting task ahead of them, he wanted to pause it all for a moment. Tess throwing his jacket at him was a good reminder that he didn’t get to take minutes.

As Y/n went to the window to check Ellie, her eye caught the butterfly in the window again. Much like ‘Rosebud,’ there was another name that she never said. She could practically see it weaved into the fine details of the creature, the bright blue against the dark black. When Joel’s back was turned. Y/n pulled the cling off the window and shoved it in her backpack. If they were going to do this, she needed to feel strong enough to do it. She’d give it back to Joel and face his wrath when the deed was done.

The four of them made it out and into the underground tunnels, landing in a lesser frequented area of the QZ. Joel climbed out first and scanned their surroundings, helping to pull Ellie out after. Y/n came through next, though Joel knew better than the extend his hand to her, and finally, Tess.

“Holy shit,” Ellie remarked, spinning around to take it all in, “I’m actually outside.”

Not half a second later, a helicopter made its round over them, searchlights shining off it. Tess pulled Ellie in and crouched behind a large piece of debris.

“Okay, we’re gonna take the left edge around the buffer zone,” Tess explained, “You stay close and you follow my lead.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Ellie nodded in understanding, glancing over to Y/n as if to get approval. Y/n nodded back, placing momentary trust that Tess would protect the girl.

“Same goes for you,” Joel said from beside her, his voice low.

Y/n glared over her shoulder, “I really don’t think you want me where you can’t see me.”

“Let’s go,” Tess ordered.

The four of them crawled under an abandoned school bus with Joel bringing up the rear. Walking while crouched was hard, but they managed their best and paused behind a car when a FEDRA patrol vehicle passed by. Once it was clear, they made their way through a rusted, metal pipe, stopping when the chopper passed over them again. Y/n caught a peek at Ellie’s face as the light shone on them, she looked terrified. Through her own nerves, Y/n reached over and took Ellie’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Joel watched the whole thing, if he wanted a glimpse of the woman he’d once known, he’d gotten it. Her heart was still there.

Their team hurried out of the pipe, rushing to hide behind another big piece of debris. A storm was starting, the lightning acting as temporary lighting for their path. Joel was leading the way when their presence was detected.

“Hey,” a FEDRA soldier shouted, “Hey! Don’t, don’t, don’t move.”

Joel hurriedly looked around for more, pushing Ellie behind him. He held his hands up in surrender, along with Y/n, Ellie and Tess. If they wanted to get out of this, they needed to play along.

The FEDRA soldier opened the visor of his helmet, getting a look at Joel. “You gotta be shittin’ me…”

“Okay, let’s talk this out,” Joel said calmly.

“Turn around,” the soldier ignored him.

“Hold on-“

“Get on your fuckin’ knees,” the soldier yelled, “Get on your fuckin’ knees!”

Joel wasn’t giving up, “Now, hold on-“

“What did I fuckin’ tell you, man? I said stay the fuck home,” he pointed to the ground, “Get on your knees!”

Y/n knew if he fought any harder, he was going to get them all killed. Taking matters into her own hands, she dropped. “Ellie,” she said calmly, “Get down.”

“Just get on your knees,” Tess said to Joel, “Just get on your knees.”

Joel listened and kneeled between Ellie and Tess, turning his back to the soldier. Ellie finally followed Yn’s directions and got down next to Y/n.

“Listen, you let us do this run,” Tess bargained, “We’ll split the cards with you.”

The soldier wasn’t having it, “Oh, will you?”

Y/n’s breaths quickened, knowing their chances of escape were slim. There had to be something to do. If she gave herself up, would he let Tess and Joel leave with Ellie? She didn’t particularly feel like dying, but Ellie was too important to compromise. They could get her the rest of the way.

“Hands on your head, eyes forward,” the soldier instructed. It was the eyes forward bit that bothered Joel the most. They wanted to control what they couldn’t even see.

“Hands on your head,” the soldier screamed, startling them all into doing it. He came up behind Tess, holding a device to her neck. Checking to see if they were infected.

Y/n’s heart stopped in her chest. Shit.

“Really, man?” Tess complained.

The soldier was undeterred, “Yep, we’re doin’ this by the book.”

Ellie nudged Y/n with her boot, signaling she knew what was coming. Y/n wasn’t sure how to offer her any assurance that they’d be okay.

“Unauthorized exit,” the soldier reported, “They’ll hang you for that.”

“Fine,” Joel tried again, “Everythin’ off this run and half off of all the pills.”

Their voices faded in Y/n’s ears. If she could move quick enough, she could spin around and shoot the soldier before he knew what was happening. It would give Tess and Joel a few seconds to get away.

Before Y/n could make a decision, Ellie stole her move and stabbed the soldier in the leg.

“Ellie!” Y/n and Tess cried in unison.

The soldier was momentarily dazed, stumbling backwards and trying to figure out where the injury was. Y/n took the opportunity to shove Ellie behind her. Joel did the same, jumping to his feet and standing in front of Y/n. It was pure instinct.

“Get out of the fuckin’ way,” the soldier yelled, aiming his gun past the adults.

Joel could talk his way out of a lot, but this looked grim. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“We can fix this,” he tried, holding up his hands as a barrier between them and the soldier.

The soldier was done listening to their pathetic attempts. “Move.”

Joel didn’t budge.

“Move.”

Y/n had been on the recieving end of a lot of guns, held by people who thought that God had abandoned the post-apocalyptic warland and it was their job to fill His seat. But the military regulated weaponry, the uniform, the expressionless face that wouldn’t fill with guilt the moment its body pulled the trigger.

It transported her back twenty years.

And she knew Joel was there with her.

He surged forward, letting out a gutteral cry as he tackled the soldier to the ground. He climbed atop him, pinning him, and began to throw one merciless punch after the other. The crunching of bone and squishing of flesh formed an awful, perfect, rhythm.

While Ellie watched and felt something awaken within her, Y/n felt something die. She watched the man she’d known in her past life as loving and tender become a necessary monster. People thought mourning was only for those who left the earth, but there were plenty of dead souls still breathing. If there was any debate as to whether or not her version of Joel Miller was truly gone, the proof was now and forever burned into Y/n’s mind. Someone else now inhabited in his body.

When the job was done, Joel sat heaving over the man’s body, looking down at his bloody and bruised fist. It was the closest he could ever come to avenging her. When he looked up, his eyes first fell on Ellie, who didn’t seem to mind the violence at all. It seemed she actually liked it.

Y/n’s eyes told a different story.

A well-timed lightning strike lit her up, and Joel saw tears pooling below her y/e/c pupils. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, anxiety mixing with terror. Joel knew exactly what she was thinking about him and for a singular second, he felt guilt. He felt guilt for causing her pain, for forcing her to see him as anything other than the man she’d known.

It passed as quick as it came. It had to.

Tess grabbed the dropped scanner and read the bright red screen. Y/n hurried back to the present pulled Ellie by her jacket away from Tess.

“No, no,” Ellie yelled, “No, I’m not sick!”

“Joel,” Tess called, beginning to panic.

“She’s not sick,” Y/n backed Ellie up, “She’s clean!”

“Joel,” Tess yelled again, putting space between Y/n and her.

Ellie pulled her jacket sleeve up to reveal her arm, “Look! Look! This is three weeks old! Nobody lasts more than a day! Does this look a day old to you?”

Tess examined the bite site, it looked more like a bad scar than an infectious wound.

“You would have fuckin’ killed me!” Ellie said in horror.

“I should fucking kill you,” Tess bit back, looking up at Y/n, “What the hell’s Marlene trying to pull?!”

“It’s true,” Y/n said, keeping one hand over her pistol in case Tess didn’t listen, “She’s clean.”

She looked past Tess’ shoulder and over to Joel, who was still watching her. It was a long shot to get him of all people to listen to her, but now, she was happy to bank on their history in hopes that he’d believe her.

“I swear it,” Y/n held a hand up, her eyes digging into Joel’s, begging for him to not raise his gun.

Joel stopped short at Y/n’s vulnerability, he was shaken in every direction just from the last thirty seconds. He felt his will to argue with her slipping away.

“They’re gonna catch us if we don’t run,” Ellie stated, she wasn’t wrong. They could argue elsewhere and keep their lives.

“Joel, we gotta move,” Tess called, interrupting the stare-off between Y/n and him, “We gotta move, Joel.”

Ellie and Tess were already making their way to the fence, but Y/n and Joel stayed a second longer. Neither one had much credibility with the other, not after the last time they’d been together. But at the moment, Joel had two choices. He could either die at FEDRA’s hands, or he could follow the woman he’d once trusted most in the world and believe her one more time.

He chose the latter, though he was far from believing.

Joel picked up the soldier’s rifle and gestured for Y/n to move, the two of them ran after Tess and Ellie, who were already slipping through a hole in the chained fence. Y/n pushed through it, coming to stand on the other side of the QZ’s limits and pausing for Joel. She knew he trusted her as far as he could throw her and she wasn’t totally confidant in turning her back to him. She waited till he came through and the two of them ran after Tess and Ellie, into the night and into the unknown…

————————

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“Do you wanna hear a joke?” Fives’ voice breaks the silence in the room, both of your exhausted breaths being the only thing you could hear before his words. You’re lying on top of him, starting to nod off with your eyes closed.

You look up at his face, sliding your cheek through his shirtless chest to rest your head on his shoulder so you could see him. “Yeah, sure” you nod slightly and smile softly to encourage him.

“Okay, so there’s a man…” he moves the arm that’s not holding you close to him, gesticulating towards the ceiling. “And he’s visiting the doctor” he looks at you mid sentence to make sure you’re paying attention, making your smile bigger, the happiness evident in your eyes.

Fives stutters the next words, feeling his chest heavy at the way you’re looking at him, but continues telling the joke. “So, yeah, so he, the man, enters the doc’s office” he’s getting nervous knowing all your attention is directed to him, and feels his cheeks warming up when you start scratching his goatee with your fingers. “And-and the doc says —I didn’t get to tell you last time that you only have 24 hours left to live, because you left too quickly” he swears his heart is beating faster with every word, your hand tracing Fives’ face. His eyes flutter closed as he swallows hard. Damn, why is it hard to breathe? He can feel your naked body pressed into his, and he can’t believe he isn’t able to form a coherent thought now, when that hadn’t been a problem when he was balls deep in you, talking nonstop about how warm and good you felt.

He opens his eyes looking sideways at you, his face and neck feeling hot. “the man then says —so what now? What can we do… — wait no, that’s not how, kriff!” He groans and drops his free hand to cover his face. You interwine his fingers with yours, pulling his hand away from his face to look at him before speaking “and then the man dies”.

Fives starts laughing at that, his chest vibrating under you “I told the joke instead, eh?” You talk without taking your eyes from him, and he loses it at your words, laughing more and pressing you harder to him. He feels so happy with you, he can’t believe he thought that finally letting his craving for you out and having sex with you would ruin your friendship.

This felt so natural. And he craved for more, his stomach tingling with longing. Your hand is still playing with his beard so he grabs you by the wrist to bring your palm to his lips, pressing an open mouthed kiss there, with a smile against your skin, letting you feel his hot breath and wet tongue, making you gasp loudly, drawing a deep growl from Fives’ throat, hunger coming back to his eyes. He hopes this wasn’t a one time thing because he doesn’t think he could be able to keep away from you now that he knows how good you taste and feel.

“Okay, let me try again, mesh’la” he chuckles releasing your wrist. “A man hears his comm beeping-“ “Wait, he’s not at the doc office anymore?” You interrupt him with a smile. “No, he’s not. He answers it and a voice tells him —Hi Rex, I have goo-“ “Rex? As in your captain?” You can’t help but interrupt him again, glee shining in your eyes “Yes, he’s Captain Rex, now let me continue” You don’t stop smiling, stroking his face sweetly, tracing every scar and freckle you see on his skin, and decide to have fun and talk again “But you know that Rex wouldn’t answer a comm from a stranger” Fives then looks at you with a stern look, but his eyes are shining with happiness, “It says it’s the doc, happy?” He raises an eyebrow at you and you nod, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Go on”

Fives rolls his eyes and pokes at your side pulling a cute shriek out of you. “The doc says —I have good news and bad news, the good news is you only have 24 hours to live, the bad is I have been trying to contact you since yesterday” you laugh softly and try to get up, supporting yourself with your hand on his chest, unable to stop yourself from biting your lower lip, distracted by his rough skin under your palm. “But that’s just bad news and worse news, Fives!” He groans and looks at you defeated “I’m not telling you a joke never again”.

You let a laugh out and lean down to press your lips against his, making his heart beat hard against his ribs and muffle a sinful moan, not being able to believe how good your lips felt, and the fact that he now knew that feeling. “You’re so soft, cyar’ika, I can’t get enough of you” He mumbles against your mouth, your breaths mixing together, and his eyes closed.

You arrived at an empty apartment that evening. Took a long shower, and headed for the bed. Your mind was racing so much that at some point everything just became blank - thinking got you nowhere. You went to bed, but the sleep never came. You tossed and turned, got up again at some point, had a glass of water and went back to bed again. 

Then you heard the door opening and Leonid’s quiet steps against the wooden floor. You heard him going to the kitchen and then to the 'fresher, you heard him sneaking into your room, taking his clothes off slowly and quietly and slipping into the bed. You didn’t move - at some point, you caught yourself even holding your breath. 

But as soon as he lay down next to you, something in you wouldn’t give you peace - 

“Leonid?” - you whispered. 

He turned to his side, turning his back to you. 

“You’re awake?” - he murmured. 

“Yeah, I couldn't sleep.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

You observed the contours of his broad back facing you, rising slowly and falling in time with his breaths. He was quiet and it seemed that he wasn't particularly interested in a further conversation. 

“I heard you came to the shelter today.” - you said hesitantly. 

You were sure he stopped breathing for a moment and you could almost feel the coldness of the silence on your skin. You sat up. The light coming from the outside provided some visibility in the room, but you couldn’t see much - you heard that he moved and turned to face you for a moment. You couldn’t see his face: 

“Yeah, I did” - he replied turning back to his side as if to say that was the end of that conversation. 

But you couldn’t let this go. Something in you was stirring, far greater and stronger than you could control. 

“I was out with commander…”

“Yeah, I heard.” - he interrupted. 

“Leonid…” 

Silence. That cold silence again. Once again he didn’t seem to move one single muscle - or breathe at all. Everything stood still and both of you seemed to wait for the other to say something. 

“Are you okay?” - you finally asked. 

You heard him exhale as he shifted in bed, turning to face you again. You were glad that you couldn't see his face very well in the dark - and that he couldn't see yours. You weren’t sure what story your face was telling, but what you felt was sheer panic, for some reason. 

“Since when do you go out for a walk in the middle of the day? “ - his voice was different somehow, strained as if he was trying very hard not to raise it. 

“What?”

“You were out. Taking a walk. With commander Cody .” - he punctuated every word as if to prove that everything about it was wrong. The way he said ‘commander Cody” sounded as if that was his fake rank and fake name- and it very much provoked you. 

“That’s right - what’s your point?”

“Do you go out for walks with clone commanders often?” 

“That’s…” 

“Or was this a special clone and a special day somehow?” - his tone was getting more and more poisonous, and you just knew that he was doing it on purpose now. You felt your blood starting to boil. 

“Leonid, what exactly are you accusing me of here?” - you tried to sound calm, but he probably noticed the way your voice was about to break. 

“I’m not accusing you of anything, I’m just curious.”

“It sounds very much like you’re accusing me of something, and I just don’t know…” - you couldn’t exactly control your emotions anymore, feeling you were losing control more and more with every word. After everything - you are being accused of taking a walk? 

“It sounds very much like you're getting defensive - perhaps you should ask yourself why!” 

“Leonid!” - you raised your tone now, but you didn't care. 

“Do you have any idea how it looked? How I looked?” - Leonid hissed through his teeth, and just as you were about to lose it, he continued: 

“I was actually worried about you, I came all the way there, brought you flowers - only to find out that you were perfectly fine, taking walks with clone commanders.” The provocative, poisonous tone was now back. There was something about the way he pronounced his rank and name that really got to you. 

“Stop calling him that!” - your voice was now quieter, but more determined. 

“Calling him what?”

“Clone commander.”

“That’s all? That’s all you have to say?” - he asked, surprised. 

“Yes, that’s all I have to say. As always everything is about you, Leonid.”- you found your voice now, and the words were just pouring out of you. “Do you have any idea how it looked ‘ - you mocked his voice, exaggerating the whine, “That’s the only problem, isn’t it? How you looked. Everything is about you and how it affects you…” - you felt the anger take you over - every ounce of it that you suppressed so hard for years. 

But Leonid seemed to have suppressed a fair deal of emotions as well, as your outburst seemed only to have provoked even more from him:

“Of course, it’s about me - when my wife takes walks with cl— another man,  I damn well make sure to make it about myself - it is about me!” - he raised his voice again. You realised it’s been so long you’ve heard that tone. It’s been so long since the two of you had a fight. It's been a while since you had time for a fight. 

“No, it’s about us!” - you said, your voice quieter now. 

“What is?”

You were quiet for a moment, gathering your thoughts, and then you exhaled: 

“I don’t feel like I’m a part of this relationship anymore. I don’t feel like I’m a person - in this relationship.”

“That’s ridiculous.” - he replied, barely waiting for you to finish. 

“That’s how I feel - are you telling me my feelings are ridiculous?” - you replied calmly. 

“Yes, they are - because you’re exaggerating, as usual. You’re being overly sensitive and dramatic, as always. Do you have any idea under how much pressure I am? How hard I work?”

“Leonid…” - you stopped, and he looked at you. You hesitated for a moment, wondering whether you should say what you wanted to say, whether it would be too much, whether it would be fair. But then you returned his gaze, in that half-darkness, and decided to be honest - till the end. There was no turning back from this anymore. 

“I don’t care!” - you said, your voice calm. 

“What!?” - he sounded genuinely surprised. He did not expect that. 

“I simply don't care. For the past few years all I kept hearing was your work, the pressure of it, and I felt bad for you, I supported you, I tried to be quiet, put my needs second, did everything just to make things easier for you - but I can’t — I don't… I simply don’t care anymore.” - you finished, punctuating those last words, making sure that the message is clear. 

Leonid was quiet for a moment, but you knew that everything you’ve just said must have hurt his ego deep. 

“Is that why you started taking walks with commanders…” 

“What is it with you and the commander?” - you cut him off. 

“That’s not an answer!” 

You took a deep breath. You were honest to him up until that point, there was no reason not to say the truth now as well:

“I took a walk with him because… I feel good in his company. He asks how I feel. He asks about me, and what I do. He’s interested in me as a person… And I forgot how good that feels.” 

You weren’t trying to hurt Leonid with those words, but as soon as you finished you knew that everything you’ve just said must have felt like a few too heavy drops in a glass that was already full. 

“That’s it!” - he said as he started getting up. He turned the light on in the room and started looking for his clothes. 

“Leonid, what’s going on, where are you going?” 

“You think I’ll just stay here, in my own house, in my own bed and listen to my own wife telling me how good another man makes her feel” - he spoke through his teeth as he was putting his clothes on, and you could see that his face turned red  - “I’m out of here!”

“Leonid… we need to finish this conversation, you can’t just run..”

“Yes I can!” - he said, as he pulled the shirt on, and found his jacket on the chair. 

“Leonid, we have a problem, we need to …” - you tried to reason. 

“No, I don’t need to do anything. Or, what I need is not to be in the same room with you!” - he put his jacket on and turned around. 

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business!” - He said and stormed out.  

—-

“You look tired, Cody!” - Fox said. It was a quiet night at 79s and Cody and Fox sat at the bar, sipping beer. That has become a tradition a long time ago - every time Cody was on Coruscant, one of the first things he’d do was meet up with Fox at 79s. It was on one of those occasions that he met Eleny two years ago. 

“No, I’m fine” - Cody murmured, taking a sip. 

“Well, something's on your mind. General giving you hard time?” 

Cody shrugged. 

“No, the general is fine… the last few missions have been nothing but smooth sailing..”

“The troopers have issues?” - Fox continued. Cody realised he wasn’t going to let this one go for some reason. 

“The troopers are fine, Fox, I’m fine..”

Fox sent him one of those characteristic smirks, which Cody knew very well.

“Cody, I’ve known you all of my life - I see something's happening with you. You’re quiet and moody, you’re not you.”

Cody kept gazing at the bar, eyes locked on his beer. He took a sip, finally, slowly, as if he wanted to prolong his silence. 

“If anything, I’m always the one complaining about everything and you’re the one listening - we can try to switch roles and see how it goes.” - Fox tried to lighten the mood, but Cody still refused to look at him. But he knew Fox wouldn’t let him off the hook easily. 

“We all have our ups and downs I guess…” - Cody said cautiously, hoping that kind of explanation would satisfy Fox. 

“Absolutely.” - Fox nodded. He waited for a moment or two, hoping Cody would elaborate, but when that didn't happen, he continued:

“Is it…. Girl trouble?” - Fox asked cautiously. He and Cody never discussed Eleny, but Fox knew there was something happening between them - at the same time he knew Cody very well, and how he felt about relationships, so he always assumed it was just physical between the two of them - but seeing Cody like this all of a sudden made him question whether there was something more.

Cody said nothing, but Fox noticed how he griped his glass harder. So it was girl trouble. 

“Cody, come on, it’s me, brother, whatever it is you can tell me..”

Cody exhaled and took another sip. He might as well, he realised. 

“I met someone.” - he said, still gazing at his beer glass that was getting emptier with every second. 

“Ok…” - Fox nodded.  “Someone?”

“Yes, a woman. A woman I like.”

Fox smiled. He had never heard Cody say something like that before. And he knew him all of his life. There were numerous women in Cody’s life that he liked, surely, but Cody would never admit that. Distancing from any kind of emotional entanglement was important to Cody. So Fox realised he should tread lightly around this topic.  

“Okay. That’s good, right?”

Cody took a sip of his beer again and shrugged. 

“I’m not sure it is.” 

“Why not?” - Fox asked cautiously. “She likes you?”

Cody shifted in his seat, slightly uncomfortably.

“Yes, I believe she does.” 

“So, what’s the problem?”

Cody exhaled. He wasn’t in the mood for this kind of talk, but he already said too much, and he knew Fox would get it out of him one way or another. He might as well get it over with. 

“Fox, you can’t tell this to anyone!” - he looked at him, his face serious. Fox smiled. 

“Come on Cody, it’s me you’re talking to. When I had an affair with that married senator, who did I tell? No one but you! You can tell me everything, brother, do I really have to tell you that…” 

“Well…” - Cody shifted in his seat, his gaze back at his beer  - “Funny you should mention that…”

Fox’s eyes got wider.

“Oh? Oh!” - the realisation confused Fox for a moment. He didn’t see that coming. 

Cody said nothing for a while, still seemingly only focused on his beer.  

They were quiet for a moment, and Fox could feel the tension almost radiating from Cody. He had an affair or two himself - being on Coruscant and always surrounded by people, ladies at various events, things often got a bit out of control. But he could handle that. He knew how to be discreet and he knew how to sneak around, but Cody was different. Fox knew him too well  - Cody liked order, respected rules, and boundaries and would avoid scandals at any cost. But Fox knew better than to warn him or lecture him about anything. Instead, he took a sip of his beer as well, and glanced toward Cody:

“Anyone I know?”

“Does it matter?” - Cody answered shortly, not lifting his head.

“No, not really, I’m just curious.”

“It doesn’t matter!” - Cody murmured. 

“It might help….”

“Help how?”

“I don’t know.” - Fox shrugged.  “Depends on who it is. I might know something about her… or him…”

“Let’s just forget I said anything… Nothing is going to happen anyway…” - Cody added. 

“Why not?”

“Because she doesn’t want to.” Cody blurted. 

Saying that surprised Cody himself. He wasn’t sure where it came from. He wasn’t sure he himself believed that. But he realised that it was easier. Easier to keep telling himself that. 

Fox nodded. 

“I see… So you initiated something and she turned you down?”

“Not really…”

“What then?”

Cody was now growing impatient, and Fox knew how much these types of conversations made Cody uncomfortable. He was tapping his fingers at the bar now, shifting in his seat all the time, and drinking even faster than before. Cody was a private person, who rarely shared his emotions with anyone, but Fox wondered how healthy that was for him. He knew Cody would never change, but sharing something once in a while might be good for him - especially when it’s something that’s clearly bothering him this much. 

“She’s… sending me mixed messages, and I… I don’t know what she wants.” - Cody finally said. And that was the truth. 

“Have you tried asking her?”

“Asking her what?”

“If she wants you, brother!” - Fox said, his voice slightly raised. Cody looked around as if to check whether someone could have heard that, but they were the only ones sitting at the bar, and only a few clones at the corner booth. 

“I can’t ask her that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s … it’s just complicated.” - Cody mumbled. “Let’s just change the subject..”

Fox knew not to push too much - or that he already had. What Cody shared was plenty by Cody’s standards anyway, but he was still concerned - he’d never seen him like that before. Still, there was one thing that was on his mind - and he didn’t know how to ask but directly. 

“Can I ask…” - he started, and Cody lifted his head, sensing Fox's hesitation - “What about Eleny?” 

Cody’s eyes got wider - they’ve never spoken about Eleny, but Cody knew that Fox knew - he was there the night that they met, and Fox knew everything that was going on on Coruscant anyway. He had eyes everywhere on Coruscant, and Cody's late-night visits to Eleny’s apartment complex all these years must have reached Fox somehow. 

“What about her?” - Cody asked.

“I assumed you two were…” 

“We were…” - Cody answered, and finished his beer, slamming the glass at the bar just a bit harder than he intended. “We’re not anymore!” 

Fox got the message. The conversation was over. 

—

You debated with yourself. Over and over again. Leonid never came home last night after he stormed out. And you didn’t sleep a wink the whole night. You arrived in your office early, much earlier than you usually do. It was almost empty, chefs just arriving and opening the kitchen, giving you a surprised look. 

You locked yourself in your office and tried to work, but you were tired and unfocused. The restlessness took you over once again, your leg bouncing and your fingers tapping at the desk. 

You debated with yourself, but only for a moment really. You took your comm-device and found Cody’s code - and you started at it for a while. But you couldn’t - and truth to be told - you didn’t even want to fight the very dominant feeling that took over - you needed him. You wanted him there. You wanted to talk to him. 

 - Cody, hi - do you have time today? Could you stop by the shelter? Please, it’s important - 

You put it down and wondered whether you sounded too needy and pathetic. It was important. It was pathetic and you did need him - but perhaps you shouldn’t have been so obvious about it. Your leg started to bounce even faster, and you bit the side of your cheek - and just as the regret started to take over your device pinged. You grabbed it hastily, even before you had a moment to think about it - and it was Cody:

 - I’m on my way. Be there soon - 

And there. Everything seemed alright again. The weight was lifted. Whatever he was doing wasn't as important as your message, as your need. He didn't ask what it was, he didn't need to. You needed him. And then it hit you that you didn’t even know what you were going to tell him once he arrives, but you didn’t care. Whatever feels right. Whatever he asks, you’ll answer. Wherever it takes you. 

He arrived soon after, very soon. There was a knock on your door, and you knew it was him - even though it could have been anyone. You opened the door and he was there, in his full armour, his helmet clipped to his belt. His face was serious, and you could see how he scanned your whole body as soon as you opened the door as if to make sure you were physically fine. You attempted a smile and showed him to enter, which he did, slowly and almost carefully. 

"Thank you for coming, Cody… I… didn’t really know who to call.”

Cody was standing in the middle of your office, even though you showed him to sit on your couch. 

“What’s wrong?” - he asked, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“What’s always wrong. Me… everything about me is wrong.” - you answered, moving towards the couch. He still didn’t move but just observed you carefully. You knew he wouldn’t push. He told you that himself - he’s your friend and he’ll be there for you if you needed him - and he was doing just that. Arriving, standing, and listening. You took a seat. 

“I know you must have better things to do…” - you started, but he interrupted you:

“No, I don’t. I’m exactly where I want to be.” - he said. His face never changed, not from the moment he entered. You wanted to know what he was thinking so bad. 

“What are we doing?” - you said, quietly, so quietly that you weren’t sure he even heard you. You weren’t sure that question was meant for him at all, but it was a thing that was on your mind, and that was bound to escape at some point. Every time you saw him, you wanted to ask yourself that. 

“What do you think we are doing?

Normally, someone answering a question with a question would have pissed you off. But it was a good question. It was a good thing he forced you to think about it since you yourself were avoiding doing so for so long - it was a question you finally needed to answer. More than him. 

“I think… “ you started slowly. “I think I like you, Cody. I like you more than I liked anyone for a very, very long time. So long that it took me a while to recognize that feeling at all.” 

It was perhaps because you were so damn tired - emotionally and physically. But you couldn’t see a reason to pretend anymore - and lie to yourself. Leonid and you grew apart, and that was the truth, as painful as it was, but a truth that you felt on your skin the night before. It’s not so much that he stormed out and left you and still hasn’t checked up on you, or that he once again only seemed to be able and willing to think about himself and how any of your problems affect him - but it’s the fact that you weren’t really bothered about all that anymore. Once there was a time when Leonid being away all the time hurt you, when you missed him when you cherished every moment with him. You remembered how bad you’d feel every time you’d had a fight. How you hated yourself for burdening him with your feelings, your problems when he already had so much on his plate. But all of that was now gone. Without a trace almost. And if ever you needed a sign, a confirmation that your relationship - your marriage - was far gone, gone beyond repair - this was it. 

And there was this wonderful man in front of you - who never asked anything of you. Never expected anything, but only gently implied that he liked you. That he enjoyed your company. A man who checked up on you. Regularly asked you how you were doing. Who was interested in your work, in your thoughts, in your feelings. 

Who came running moments after you told him you needed him. 

No, there was no remorse in saying these words to him. You never felt less remorseful in your life. It was the truth and it was time for it to come out. 

Cody’s face finally changed with those words - his eyes never for a moment left yours, but now they were softer, less focused. He was quiet, but it was okay - you enjoyed the peace your confession somehow created between you. Then he moved, took a step, then two, slowly and elegantly until he reached the couch and took a seat next to you. And you were nervous suddenly. You could see his hand slowly reach for yours, resting on your knee. He touched it gently and tangled his fingers in yours. You smiled, keeping your eyes on your joined hands. 

“I’m glad to hear you say that.” - he said, his voice deep. “I kind of suspected it, but it’s nice to hear it anyway” - he added teasingly. 

It was then that you finally lifted your head and moved your gaze from your hands to his. His head was so close to yours, and he observed you silently. 

“Yeah, it’s nice to say it.”

“Did… did something happen last night?” - he asked carefully, not moving his eyes. 

You nodded, your gaze now moving back to his hand that was gently squeezing yours. 

“I think I had a wake-up call.” - was all you said, all you could say right now, and he didn’t push for more. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel that he nodded. He untangled his hand from yours, and he slowly moved it behind your back, wrapping his fingers around your shoulder, and pulling you slowly towards him. You were tense, but the moment his hand touched your shoulder, you eased into it, let him pull you to him, till your head was nested at the crook of his neck. He leaned his head on yours, a gentle weight of it making you feel secure in his hold. His hand was caressing your shoulder and your upper arm, slowly, moving up and down, and he let you relax into him. 

You closed your eyes and breathed in his scent. It was earthy, masculine and natural. It didn’t overpower, but it surrounded you, filled all your senses - his smell, the way your breathing synchronized with his, the way his head trapped yours on his shoulder. 

And it was alright, it was okay. You were safe. For the first time in a very, very long time you felt like things might actually turn out okay. 

He had slipped on the spare body glove I usually kept with me at my apartment as a backup and had wasted no time fitting himself in his armor again. As much as it pained him to touch it and remember everything that happened the last time he had it on, it was also the only way Cut and his family could identify him quickly. Maybe if he knew it was him, he might not snipe us on sight. Rex warned me he might be jumpy and aggressive toward us. No one apart from Rex and a few members of the 501st were ever supposed to know he was out here. Clones coming for him at all would make him suspicious.

I grabbed Rex by his right pauldron and signaled for him to stop. He tipped his helmeted head back in surprise before I gestured to him to kneel down beneath the top of the crop line. Just ahead were two dim lights and a trail of smoke, probably coming from a dwelling of some kind. “Porch lights and a heat source. Think we might’ve found them.” I whispered, so quiet it could’ve easily been dismissed as the sound of the crops brushing each other as they swayed in the wind.

“Two clicks north...I don’t exactly remember how I got here the first time, but that seems about right.” He nodded, separating the plants in front of us and getting us a better view of a small hut, surrounded by a fenced yard for eopies. He snorted out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head, “Thespa. Can’t believe they’ve still got that grouchy old eopie. I’d remember that giant uncomfortable beast anywhere. Feel like I’ve still got the bruised tail bone from riding her to prove it. Yeah, this is the place.”

“We’ve gotta scout forward quietly. Who knows if they’ve got security or something right? Don’t want to make a scene…”

“Ha, they don’t need security. Suu’s got one of the best sniper shots I’ve seen in a long time. We should be worried about spooking her.” He paused, taking out his pistols from either side and handing them to me. “Put these away. If I’m unarmed with my hands up she’ll know I’m no threat. The chip…well let’s just say the chip doesn’t exactly make you want to put those guns down.”

I flipped open the top of my bag and tossed his blasters inside, but making sure the one at my hip was ready and accessible. Just in case. He drew in a deep breath and grabbed my hand, nodding his bucket down to confirm we were ready. I squeezed his hand and stepped forward, pushing past the large stalks and into the open clearing of a yard in front of us. He followed behind me, raising his hands in very unfamiliar surrender.

The wind blew past us gently, catching a few strands of my hair in the warm breeze and pulling it out of my hood. Looking around the yard, it seemed quiet, guarded, protected, and safe. There didn’t seem to be any sign of war here. Like if you had no connection to the holonet you might never know the horrors going on just a few star systems away. The porch had a few chairs lined up, watching over the land in front of them. Two of which were far too small for a clone or any other adult to use. Rex remembered correctly. This was the place.

We padded forward, dried bits of grass and loose gravel crackling under our feet. The casual civilian would never notice sounds like this. But a clone? Even noises this small would wake any clone out of the deepest sleep. They were just trained like that.

“You take another step and my sniper will blow that hood clean off your head.” A familiar voice rang out in the night air.

“Cut?” Rex called out, twisting his head around to search for where the sound was coming from. Far too loud to be from inside the house. He was around us somewhere. Somewhere close. “Cut? It’s me…it’s Rex. Captain Rex. Remember?” He muttered nervously, clearly detecting the cautious hostility in his brother’s tone.

“Rex? …Reports all say you’re dead, Captain.” Cut’s voice bellowed, the tension in the air so thick I could barely draw in my next breath.

“Not yet, brother.” Rex chuckled, removing his helmet and lowering to his knees. “I’m unarmed. I’m here for help. Not going to hurt any of you.” He placed his gloved hands into the remnants of grass beneath our feet and settled his helmet down in front of him. I gulped, removing my hood and dropping to my knees beside Rex. I can’t look threatening either, even if I’m ready to draw blasters to protect us both at any moment.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from a small barn behind the eopies’ pen. His hair was dyed red and much longer than Rex’s, pulled back into a messy bunch behind him. Long facial hair covered the sides of his jaw, crawling up his face into his hairline. He had seemingly ditched the clean-cut clone standard look long ago, opting for a pair of cargo pants and a tank. If you looked quick, you could barely tell his face wasn’t exactly his own.

“Who’s the girl?” He responded, the questioning tone fully replacing the tentative aggression from before. He stepped forward into the illumination of the porch light and an amused smirk drew across his face. He eyed where I kneeled beside Rex, ready to defend him fiercely at a moment’s notice, if necessary.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Rex quipped, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Almost all of Rex’s men in the 501st had some inkling about me, so introducing me to his brothers wasn’t exactly new. But something about Cut was making him apprehensive. Almost desperate for some kind of approval.

Cut reached forward and grabbed Rex’s helmet, making note of the wear and tear and the numerous tally marks etched into the plastoid. “You’ve made some nice modifications to this. Interesting design upgrades. Great weld lines. Haven’t seen clone armor in a long time. A long time...” He faded away, reaching his open palm down to Rex. They locked arms and he pulled Rex to his feet, handing the bucket back to him.

Rex turned toward me, now offering me his hand, and hoisting me up again. “You alright, mesh’la?" He whispered, trying to be quiet enough to keep out of Cut’s earshot. I laced my fingers between his and let out a gentle hum, hoping I could settle his nerves.

Cut laughed softly behind us, patting Rex on the shoulder. His familiar brown eyes roved over my face, stopping to observe my expression as he gave me the once over. I wasn’t looking for the same approval as Rex and I was sure my face read more like an aggressive tooka than an uninvited house guest. He smiled wide, “Not so by the book anymore now, huh Cap?”

“If you’ve been through all the things he has, you’d know why.” I all but spat, chin up and fire blazing in my chest in full-on defense mode. He was his brother, but he needed to know that this wasn’t a joke. That Rex wasn’t here because he was slacking off. He was here because he was desperate, tired and scared. He was just too proud to say it to the one brother who had ever truly gotten under his skin.

Cut’s eyes widened in surprise, turning toward Rex and giving him the same once over he had me. It only took him a few seconds to see what I meant. I’m sure he noticed the slight crinkles by his eyes, how the light burned harshly against the dark circles formed by sleep he never got, his prized plastoid armor littered with holes from battle wounds still struggling to heal, the fresh scar etched into the side of his blonde hair. No, this was not the same man he’d met years ago. His little brother had aged. Not in years, but in experience, of the horrors he had witnessed, the things he’d done that will live with him forever.

Rex looked up into his brother’s eyes. The first time he’d looked into the face of a vode since he’d sent hundreds to their death to save himself. For the first time since he closed their eyes forever. For the first time in days since he looked into that familiar face and it wasn’t his own. For the first time since he buried them all, each and every one of them by hand. I could see the tears welling up in his eyes again, the guilt overcoming him.

Cut’s face fell, understanding, at least at some level, the depths to which Rex had fallen. His proudest, most courageous war hero little brother had found himself here, deserting everything he knew he once valued. Cut closed his eyes and clutched Rex at the back of his neck, pulling their foreheads together.

Suddenly, Cut wasn’t just another sarcastic, wise cracking clone brother. He was like a Father. Embracing his little brother tightly and trying to bring him some level of comfort, to protect him. “Ni ceta, ner vod’ika.” Rex’s shoulders sagged, as his brother pulled him into a hug and held him there for a while. I’m sure he wanted to cry, but the tears weren’t coming. He just stood there in Cut’s arms, numb and broken.

“I…didn’t know where else to go.” Rex muttered, stepping back beside me again and fiddling with the sleeve of my hoodie. “Cut, you have to understand…what’s happening goes deep. The nightmares, the battle in our dreams. You know the one.” He drifted off, his nostrils flaring in anger, his chest heaving as he relived it all over again. Every action he couldn’t control, every programmed thought that went against his will, every kill shot he intended for his closest Jedi friend. He clenched his fists at his sides, his body now wracked with tremors like an aftershock. Cut closed his eyes too, like at some level, in the back of his mind, he knew.

“It’s real. I’ve seen it. I…lived it. It’s…in all of us. I was saved. I had help. But I thought of you and your family and…well…I knew I had to come. I have to help you. None of our brothers deserved to die like this.” Rex trailed off, looking at the blast burns on his helmet and remembering where they came from, picturing the look on Jesse’s face, the aggression he was forced to feel as he unwillingly attempted to carry out his orders.

Rex was struggling, too haunted by the events themselves to explain what the culprit was. What needed to be done to help him. I laid a delicate hand on his bicep, hesitantly hugging him close to support him. I knew he needed it.

Cut’s eyebrows rose in surprise, his suspicions about who I was to Rex confirmed by such a simple gesture of affection. “Cut. There’s a chip inside your brain. Inside every clone. They were implanted in you all during growth on Kamino. This was planned and…unless you remove yours too…well who knows what might happen.” I explained, motioning toward where his family likely stood watching us interact from their home.

“It turned brother against brother. Clone against Jedi. If it activates in you, you won’t have control over anything. You’ll kill anything that stands in your way. We’ve got to remove it.” Rex explained. He turned his head to expose the fresh scar from his own extraction. “Mine’s gone. I know how to do it. But we need to get you to a med bay. Before it takes everything from you too.”

Cut nodded, too stunned and overwhelmed to speak. He brought his hand to his temple and sighed. “That explains the headaches.” He muttered, more to himself than us.

“That’s how it starts. If you’re already feeling it, we don’t have much time.” Rex bit his lower lip, probably wondering whether it was safe for him to even be conscious in front of us if the inhibitor chip was already showing signs of activating.

“There are no medical stations anywhere near here, but Suu’s gotten pretty good at medical stuff. She might know what to do.”

Rex nodded, looking toward the Lawquane’s hut and then at me, a wild look of urgent worry in his eyes. We weren’t necessarily safe yet. Cut was a ticking time bomb and none of us, including his own family, were safe with the inhibitor chip still inside him.

“Let’s go inside. We need to tell Suu before we do anything.” Cut looked down at his feet, pointing us toward the front door. We started forward, taking only a few steps before he grabbed Rex’s arm. “Rex. I need you to promise me something.”

Without hesitation, Rex turned to look into his brother’s eyes, now filling up with the same determined protection he’d had while holding Rex before. “If something happens before we get the chance…stop me. Do what you need to do. Don’t let me hurt my family.” Cut muttered a few unintelligible words in Mando’a, which Rex seemed to understand.

“You have my word. Protecting my brothers is my duty now. Solus kar’ta, solus tal’din.” He thumped his fist to his chest, communicating something I couldn’t quite understand. But it seemed important to them both, an unspoken bond between brothers. Cut then brushed past Rex toward the house, running his hands through his hair, clearly stressed.

Rex grabbed my hand and pulled me into his side. We followed Cut in step, staying within an arm’s length of each other for added protection. We had to watch each other’s backs still. I felt Rex bump his shoulder into mine, “I’m taking my blasters back…cannot go unarmed now that I know how he’s feeling.” He muttered in my ear quietly, opening the top of my pack and digging them out.

“This isn’t good, Rex. We need to warn his family. Protect them if we have to…” I whispered back, placing a hand on my hip just above my own weapon. “We have a lot to fill them all in on. It doesn’t seem like they know quite how much danger they’re in.” I looked around the dwelling, almost no protection, shields or weapons to be found anywhere. If Rex, who could barely remember how to get here, could find them, then any clone could. They were not safe here anymore.

“They know. They just don’t want to leave. This is the only home they know. Kind of an unfair burden to place on them. Reckon Cut feels guilty. I get it.” Rex sighed, looking up into the shadows of one of the home’s upper windows. He’d been here before. He probably knew that’s where the kids were. He understood because he felt the same guilt, feeling bad that I had given up my life of safety and security to live under constant stress, threat and danger with him.

“You can never be a burden to the people who love you. They’d do anything to protect him, just as he would them. And just as I would you.” I ran my hand up his bicep, subtly asking him to look back at me to really hear what I was saying. That he wasn’t a burden to me. He wasn’t weighing me down or holding me back. I wanted to be beside him and nothing was going to stand in my way.

Before he could respond, we were at the door and Cut was ushering us inside. The house wasn’t much. It looked like a smattering of old ship parts and the tall stalks of that crop outside put together to make a modest little hut. It was cozy. All over the walls were holos of Cut and his family. Crude drawings and words scrawled in multiple different colors littered nearly every flat surface. In the corner of the living quarters were neat and organized piles of little dolls and toy starfighters that the kids kept tucked away to play with later. It was all so domestic and utterly normal. It was hard to believe a battle hardened soldier lived here.

“Cut? Are you alright?” A heavily accented voice asked, popping her head up from a hatch in the floor. A slender pink face emerged, turning to look in our direction and rushing out of the hiding place toward Cut. So this was Suu Lawquane, a tall, thin and pale pink Twi’lek woman with a beautiful face and starry eyes. She held him tight, a strong embrace that I knew all too well. I could practically feel it. Rex’s strong shoulders melting into my arms, his palms spreading across the small of my back. I knew that kind of hug.

“I’m alright. Everything’s fine. But we’ve got a few visitors. You remember Rex?” Cut motioned toward where Rex and I stood apprehensively in the doorway.

“Yes, yes of course. I would never forget him. The children haven’t either...” She chuckled, walking away from us toward a datapad on a table next to her. She tapped a few buttons, pulling up a few holo images and stepping back to where we stood. “They have never forgotten what you did for them.” She cooed, handing the pad to Rex.

The holos were crude re-enactments of a battle of some kind. The stalks of the crops they grew were artfully arranged to look like battle droids, complete with drawn eyes and scowls. The one child was dressed like her father, a green tunic and a staff. The other, the smaller boy, held a makeshift stick like a blaster and wore a child size helmet, with Rex’s jaig eyes scribbled from memory into the green coated plastoid.

A real smile spread across Rex’s face, a fondness igniting a twinkling flame in his amber eyes. He looked almost choked up, like he was honored that something he had done was being remembered like this. He was a real hero in the eyes of a child who would never know the sacrifice, the loss, the guilt he carried to still be standing here. As if just a few children living their lives free of this pain was worth every brutal thing Rex had ever endured. He huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head with amusement, and tucking the datapad under his arm. “Guess I really made an impression.”

“You have no idea.” Suu giggled, laying her head on her husband’s shoulder and stroking his chest.

Rex let out a deep sigh, resting his shoulder on the door frame and holding my hand tighter in his. “I wish…I was here under better circumstances. But I needed to warn you of what’s coming. Of what might happen to Cut soon enough.”

Suu stood rigid and tall like the very crops they grew, and she scowled. “What do you mean? Love, what is he talking about?”

“Suu, you better sit down.” Cut uttered sternly, immediately making her jolt back in surprise. She pulled out a chair and sat down, pulling her hands to her chest and taking a deep breath. “Both of you, too.” Cut added gruffly. Rex and I exchanged glances before joining them at the table.

“What’s going on?” Suu repeated her question, shifting her eyes suspiciously over all our faces. We clearly knew something she didn’t.

“Suu, with respect, you are not safe here anymore. Something’s happened. There’s a reason Cut’s had a headache for 3 days.” Rex started, turning his head to expose his scar to her. “Each clone was implanted with a chip at birth. Myself and Cut included. With one order, the Emperor used us all against our will to…kill the entire Jedi order and anyone who stands with them. To destroy the Republic and the galaxy as we know it. I’ve had mine removed. I’m here to help Cut remove his. To protect him. To protect all of you.”

She blinked and grimaced, tears falling down her pink cheeks. “I know. I heard what was happening. But I didn’t want to believe it. I thought that Cut was different. That because he chose not to fight-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Rex interrupted her, his voice raising. “None of us were given a choice in this. Not even Cut. That chip activates and you’re all at risk. He won’t have any control over it. He will kill you all.” He hissed, pounding an angry fist on the table. I grabbed his arm, jerking him out of the building rage he was feeling. He looked down at me and his face fell again, realizing he was getting a little too incensed and stopping himself. “I’m…I’m sorry, Suu. But you’ve got to find a way to help him. I don’t want you to lose him. And I don’t want to have to hurt my brother to keep you safe.”

She stood up defensively at Rex’s comment and grabbed the sniper from her back. “And why should I believe you? What if this is a trick? I won’t let you hurt him.” Suu blubbered skeptically.

“Rex risked his life to come here. Both of our lives because he thought of you. Of your children. Your family. Right after he buried what was left of his. We’re here because it’s the right thing to do. Please listen to us. You need to get your family and run. Find somewhere safe to remove the chip.” I said, placing my palm on Rex’s chest, puffed out in frustration.

She lowered her weapon and sighed, “Ok. I will start gathering things together. I might be able to operate on him myself if I get to somewhere with the right equipment. I trust no one else to do this but me.” She smoothed her hands down her brown tunic and shuddered. “The clones…your brothers. What’s going to happen to the ones who don’t remove the chips?” She questioned.

“I don’t know. I’m supposed to be dead, so I won’t be immersed enough in the clone ranks within the Empire now to find out.” Rex answered, shaking his head and fiddling with the hole in his wrist armor where his comm once was.

“Rex. When you came here all those years ago you fought me every step of the way on what it meant to choose your own path and whether or not we clones ever had the right to make that choice.” Cut spoke, referencing the time Rex spent on Saleucami that he so rarely discussed with anyone. I didn’t know Rex before that mission, but I knew he’d changed a lot since then. I was evidence enough of that. But I didn’t know he was as by the book as he was, unquestioning what his purpose was until the second he woke up here in Cut’s barn with a hole in his chest and a little kid calling him Dad.

“Yeah, well, as you can see, I’ve changed a lot since then.” He nodded toward where I sat beside him and raised his brows suggestively.

“Not quite what I meant,” Cut laughed, “but that’s part of it. I don’t remember much about working with the Jedi but I remember the Force. And it seems your path is clear. That your purpose was always to fight. Not just in the Republic’s war. But to fight for freedom. For your own and for our brothers. I think you know what you have to do. Your duty now is to your blood. Save as many of us as you can. Give them the freedom to choose like we agreed that first time we met. Give ‘em a fighting chance at a life outside war, Rex.”

Rex looked up at his brother, the faintest glimmer of that determined, brilliant warrior I knew glowing in his eyes. Cut was right and he had somehow managed to get that message through to him clearly. “Don’t worry, Cut. They’ll never beat the fight out of me. And even if they do, she fights twice as hard as I do.” Rex smirked, beaming with pride as his gaze roved over my face. His eyes softened, reaching across the table to rest his hand in mine. Stars, I love him. He seemed at least marginally less stressed than he had been the last few days. While seeing Cut was hard, it was also the wake up call he needed to get back in the fight. He had a new mission and his brother’s approval and that was a good enough sign from the force as any that things might be ok.

Cut smiled approvingly, “I’m proud of you, Rex. You’ll always have a place with us, if you want it. Wherever that might be. You could stay.”

Rex’s eyes met mine, like he was truly considering it this time. As if he was giving me an unspoken out of the tangled mess that was his life. Somewhere I could stay where I’d be safe and watched over by people he trusted. I knew he wanted to offer me something like this. A life like the Lawquane’s had. A little house we could build to our liking. Some land we could explore together. Spend the rest of our days at peace. But that wasn’t what I wanted. Because that wasn’t Rex. He said it himself, he has a duty to his brothers. He has more fighting to do. I loved him, truly loved him. That meant that his battles were my battles. His duty was now mine. All I wanted was to be with him and support him. I didn’t need to make him a new family, even if I didn’t mind the idea of growing a few more little Rex’s. No. I needed to help Rex salvage what was left of his family. Loving him meant dedicating myself to saving his men too.

I shook my head and patted his hand, “Thanks Cut, but there are more brothers to save out there. And I intend to help Rex find them, no matter what it takes. I won’t leave his side again.”

“I never can change your mind, can I?” Rex chuckled, curling his arm around my waist and pulling me close to him. Even though what Cut offered was safe, it wasn’t what was best. Rex’s fingers dug into my hip bones, possessively and eternally grateful for my loyalty to him.

“You were right, Rex. If you told me you got yourself a girl, I never would’ve believed you.” Cut laughed, leaning back in his chair and looking between the two of us. “But I’m glad someone’s going to watch over my brother as well as I would.”

Suu returned to the table, walking down the stairs from the floor above. “If you’re not going to stay to help us evacuate, at least stay the night. You can sleep on the cot in the living room. At least to see the kids one last time when you wake up in the morning.” She asked, looking hopefully at Rex.

I felt him shift, uncomfortable with staying in any one place for two long, especially not wanting to lead anyone to Cut’s innocent family. He sighed, turning to me, “are you okay with that? I do kinda want to commend the kid on that drawing he did on his helmet.” His face lit up fondly, as he picked up the datapad again to look over the holos the kids took. I’d never seen him interact with little kids before, but the sense of pride flowing through him was amusing. He truly would make a great father. He cared so much and loved so deeply. It’s no wonder two little kids he’d only known for a few days were so affected by him. I wanted to see how he was with them, how he’d make jokes and teach them things. It didn’t make sense with the things happening in our lives right now, but maker- if he asked, I don’t think I could say no. I’d give him anything he wanted, even a family, if that would make him happy.

“I’m more than okay with that.” I said with a smile, looking around the room at a place that for the first time in days actually felt like home. Actually felt safe. “Can’t disappoint the little ones waiting to see their Uncle Rex now, can we?” Rex smiled happily, a twinkle of something almost mischievous in his eyes. A look that said I can’t wait to reward you for this later.

“I’ll get the cot and some blankets for you. We’ve already eaten, but we have more than enough left over to spare. I’m not sure when the last time you’ve eaten a warm meal was…” Suu offered, patting Rex on the shoulder before heading toward the fridge in their kitchen.

“Not in a long time. Been mostly ration sticks.” Rex scoffed, his distaste for them growing the more time he spent eating meals I cooked for him.

“You know, I kinda miss those sometimes. I know it sounds crazy. Haven’t had one of those since the last time the Bad Batch boys were here.” Cut started to say, as he grabbed both Rex and I drinks from a storage unit behind him.

Rex coughed and shook his head. “The Bad Batch? You know Clone Force 99?” The name sounded familiar to me for some reason, but I couldn’t place it. That’s when I remembered. Echo. That’s who helped Rex rescue Echo.

“Yeah, Hunter and I met while I went on a supply run once. There’s no hiding from him after all. Knew I was a clone right away. His reaction wasn’t all that different from yours.” Cut rolled his eyes at him.

“Yeah, those boys are…something. When’s the last time you spoke to them?” Rex asked, clearly wondering and hoping it was recent enough that he could reasonably consider they were still alive.

“Oh, months ago. Though now…wouldn’t be surprised if they thought about coming here too.” Cut rested his hand on his chin, swirling his own drink in his hand. “They don’t exactly fit in anywhere.”

“Let’s hope they have enough sense to do that. I know at least one of them does.” Rex laughed, remembering all the numerous times the shyer of the two domino twins managed to get their entire platoon back on track. “Hope they’re alright.”

I’d always been closer with Fives and Jesse, the two appreciating my offhand sarcastic jokes more than the rest of the 501st. After Fives lost Echo, he’d spent nearly an entire week at 79s, drinking and partying his pain away and ending each night with Rex and I dragging him to my apartment to sleep it off. Talking some sense into Fives and walking him home from the bars was always Echo’s job. Echo was sweet, caring, and observant, always stepping in for those who needed it.

Rex felt an immense level of guilt after losing him because he had to leave him behind. Something Echo never would’ve done to him. The night Rex found out he survived, he commed me in a whirlwind, excitedly rambling that he’d heard Echo’s voice. I didn’t get the chance to see him once Rex’s rescue mission was successful, but I knew Rex took it hard when he chose to continue on with The Bad Batch, a path Rex couldn’t follow. Rex missed him terribly and especially now that, as far as he knew, Echo was the only 501st man left. If Clone Force 99 survived and if they were against the Empire as much as we were, we’d have to find them. It would help Rex heal so much. And stars I missed Echo too.

We spent the rest of the night drinking and sharing memories of their brothers with Cut and Suu. Rex spending time with his brother was doing a lot to quiet his mind, almost making this seem like any casual night out. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself though, running his gloved palms against my arm or up my thighs whenever he could, probably feeling comfortable being domestic with another couple around.

Before long the drinks stopped flowing and Rex’s exhaustion started catching up to him. Suu could tell, leaving the table to prepare our sleeping space. Rex’s head fell onto my shoulder, his eyelids as heavy as his hands on my waist.

I rested my hand on his cheek and whispered, “My love, do I need to carry you to bed?”

“Mmmm…I’d looove to see you try to lift me.” He hummed, a weak and alcohol fueled giggle leaving his lips. He squeezed his arms around me tighter, holding me too still to move and giggling even more as I squirmed.

“Come on, Rex. Aren’t you tired? You just gonna sleep at the table?”

“Slept in worse places.”

“Do I have to order you to sleep?” I joked, bumping him gently with my shoulder. He turned his head and smirked at me, his tired brown eyes looking suggestively down my body next to him before peering up into mine again.

“With you? Never, my pretty girl.” He slowly pulled himself up, resting two hands on the table and cracking his back. I stood up, slipping my two arms underneath his shoulders, and lifting him upwards. His white plastoid clattered at the movement, making him ten times heavier than I ever remembered him being.

“Stars how do you move in this stuff?” I settled him on his feet and wrapped his arm across my shoulder, as I guided us toward the cot nearby. “We should get you some civvie clothes so you can actually move.”

“I think you know better than anyone I have no trouble moving with my armor on.” His fingers gripped my shoulder, his flirting and innuendos making Cut burst into laughter at the table behind us.

“Who are you and what have you done with Captain Rex?” Cut joked, cleaning off the table and turning off the lights in the kitchen. He walked past us struggling to find the cot and climbed the stairs to his room for the night.

“This is all….her. Can’t help myself.” He hiccupped loudly. Slowly, he sunk down onto the cot and began clicking off his armor, laying it onto the floor. “Look what you do to me, cyar’ika.”

I giggled, noticing the effect I was having on him the more of his armor he removed, especially between his legs. “Control yourself, Captain.” I scolded playfully, removing his pauldrons for him and skillfully hovering my chest only a few inches from his face.

He groaned, “you know I love it when you call me that. Not exactly….helping me calm down…” His hands gripped my waist and he pulled me down onto him on the cot. I braced myself on his armor-less chest, both palms splayed wide on broad, solid pectorals. I was telling him to calm down, but the feeling of his body, not the plastoid, his actual body, was making me dizzy too.

My hips crashed down onto his, our centers brushing provocatively and making him whimper. My hair fell from behind my ears, lightly brushing against the high points of his cheekbones and drawing his eyes away from my body to my face. He brought a gloved fingertip to his lips and bit down on the smooth black fabric. He slipped his bare hand out from underneath it and tossed it to the side, using his now exposed fingertips to graze over my cheek affectionately. “Hi there beautiful. Stay close to me?”

“Clothes on or off?” I asked suggestively, pulling the blankets up over our bodies. I could feel his chest rippling as he laughed, pretending to mull over the question in his mind. We both knew what his preference was.

“Probably should stay on. Little ones around remember?” He rolled his eyes in annoyance, pointing up at the level where the little half human half twi’lek kids slept above us. His words and mind said one thing, but the throbbing against my thighs said otherwise. I pouted, now suddenly aware of just how limiting staying with other people was. I wanted him now and of course we couldn’t really do much of anything.

“Well can I at least see you? Sleeping on your chest is my favorite.” I tugged on the hem of his black shirt, eager to get it off him. He quirked an eyebrow and smiled at me, pleased that I felt so safe with him. He leaned forward, tangling his fingers in the hair behind my ears and kissed me, sitting up and pulling me further onto his lap.

He broke the kiss and with our lips still touching spoke, “help me take it off? Heads too dizzy for me to get it myself.” His shoulders relaxed, broad hands resting on my waist. I pulled up from the bottom, sliding my hands across his bare skin as I eased the tight fabric up higher and higher. Goosebumps rippled across his dark skin as more of him was exposed to the cool night breeze. I guided it up and over his head, his hands pulling it off the rest of the way. He sat beneath me, chin up and watching me take gentle breaths, gazing at how the dim light of the room caught my face.

“Better, love?” I asked, blinking at him slowly and guiding my hands down his now bare chest. I felt the ages old scar on his chest ripple under my fingers. The scar he’d gotten the last time he laid under this planets moon. Before the republic fell, before he lost it all, before he even knew me.

He nodded in response, distracted by where my hands were tracing and sighed, curling his arm around my lower back. “It feels weird…being back here.” His face fell, looking around the room at Cut’s house. “With Cut, it feels like nothing’s changed. But…” he faded, his thumb resting on my chin and tipping our foreheads together. “Everything has. I’m- I’m different. Because of what’s happened, because of what I had to do to survive, because of you.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist, cuddling us as close together as I could. “He knows you’re not the same man you once were. Especially the second you brought me here. We’re doing the right thing warning them. They deserve peace. Hopefully we got to them in time that they can run and go find that somewhere safe.” I fiddled with the tattered blanket covering us.

“He really likes you. He knows I’m in good hands. I wish…well- I hope someday soon we might know something like this. Sort of something I want to give you.” He sighed, as if saying that out loud made it sound any closer to reality. We both knew it didn’t.

“Rex, my love, I don’t need anything but you. I mean that. Don’t worry about me. You’re alive. You’re with me. That’s more than enough.” I motioned him to lay down and he fell back, guiding my head to his chest as he hit the pillows behind him.

He let out a big yawn almost instantly, clutching my side and cuddling me close. “I…know. I love you, mesh’la. I love you for understanding.” He gripped the blanket and pulled it up over us both. “And I love you…for staying. My…pr-pretty….girl.” He drifted away, sleep finally catching up to him. I pulled myself up to cuddle my head into the crook of his neck.

“Goodnight, my Captain. I love you. So much Rex.” I closed my eyes, drifting to sleep breathing in his scent mixed with light hints of Corellian whiskey.

—

Sunlight streamed in through a nearby window, warming my face. Sounds of unfamiliar creatures rising with this planet’s light source singing in my ears. My chest rose and fell softly, weighed down by the arm she draped across my torso. I could feel her soft exhales on my bare skin, her lips just inches from the side of my neck. Her body was curled into mine, heating me from head to toe like no blanket could ever satisfy in quite the same way. This cot wasn’t exactly comfortable, but I don’t think I’ve woken up this peacefully in my entire life.

I turned my face to press a kiss to the top of her head, lifting my arm to gently stroke her hair. Waking up together at all was a gift in itself, thank force for that. But waking up like this, with no imminent threats to call me in for, no chillingly cold silence of space in cramped barracks. This was heaven. I wish we didn’t have to go. I’m not an exceedingly jealous man, but now more than ever I wished that I had the courage to turn my back on duty and live a life like Cut had. At least some part of me wished that. To take her hand and run. To hide on some planet and stick it to the Empire by denying them the chance to steal the rest of my life from me. I still could do that I suppose, but she was right. Other brothers were out there and they needed saving too.

I thought about the Bad Batch for the first time since they helped me save Echo. I hadn’t had time to consider what might have become of them. Finding them was the logical next place to go. Maker- Echo really was all I have left of my men. MY family. Who knows who else could be out there? Cody? Wolffe? Fox? None of them have any idea about the chips. At least not as far as I knew. If I could find them and help them remove their chips too, I could have something like what Cut has. Take care of my family somewhere safe and give her the life she deserves. Maybe create a few new members. Hmm more than a few.

I looked down at her body curving into mine and felt my cock twitch between my legs. I shook my head, trying to will my racing thoughts out of my mind and focus on how good she felt pressing into me. Her core was hot against my thigh, no doubt as slick as she always was for me. I bit my lip and groaned softly. Of course this has to happen here. I want nothing more than to watch her ride me as the sun comes up. But we weren’t alone and I couldn’t disrespect our hosts like that. So I laid there, looking up at the ceiling and running through Republic codes and their meanings in my mind.

She stirred beside me, letting out a tired yawn before nuzzling into my chest more. Her fingers began to wander, softly tracing down my side. “Rex? You awake?” She whispered, rolling her hips into my thigh and giggling when she felt my morning erection against her. “Just as hard as when we went to bed, I see.”

I groaned in frustration, dropping my head back on the pillow and huffing loudly. “Yeah and I hate that we can’t do anything about it. Miss how you usually handle this in the morning.” Flashes of her pretty eyes looking up at me with her lips wrapped around my cock made the blood pump to my center even harder than before. She raised her head to look at me and smirked.

“You really think we can’t do anything? I can’t touch you even….a little bit…?” Her voice was husky, provocatively threatening to push the boundary and take the risk, even if we might get caught.

“Cyar’ika, don’t start something you don’t intend to finish.” I brushed my knuckles down the curve of her side, feeling where her hips swelled into her ass. Perfect. Stars we shouldn’t. But I need her.

“Oh you will.” She all but threatened, meeting my gaze as her hand slid down my lower abs, dangerously close to where I wanted it. “I’ll try not to make too much of a mess.” Her fingertips grazed over the taut fabric of my underwear, starting to palm me gently. I let a hiss escape as I practically winced at her touch. I introduced her to Cut so proudly, as such a kind, respectful and fiercely compassionate woman. But here she was, my dirty girl, the light of morning dancing with the dark mischief in her eyes as she teased me, her hands playing with my cock. She peeled down the waistband of my underwear and gripped me, turning her gaze away to dribble spit onto her waiting fist.

“Fuck…fuck make a mess. I don’t care. Be nice and sloppy. Spit on my cock.” I muttered, gathering her hair in my hands and holding it out of the way. Her closed fist pumped slowly up the length of me, slipping wet slick around the tip. I groaned as softly as I could, tensing my thighs to let her know I was enjoying this. She ran her thumb across my tip, making my eyes roll back in my head as her touch sent a shiver through me.

“Since when does my Captain like anything to be so messy?” She flirted, dipping her head down to let her tongue flick up the pearls of precum dripping from me. My whole body tensed as her tongue twirled light circles around the head. I choked down the moan I wanted to let out, instead opting to grip the edges of the cot with my fist and bite my bottom lip hard.

“Since someone…decided she was in charge…fuck cyare- that’s so good. Can you take me in that pretty mouth? Hmmm? Show me how gorgeous you look with your mouth full of my cock.” I tipped her chin up with my forefinger, running my thumb across her bottom lip. She blinked slowly, those big eyes softening with a fondness. There was an endless fire in her, but she’d simmer whenever I asked, letting her guard down only for me. Because she trusted me. She loved me.

“Oh yes, Captain, I can.” She cooed, trailing her bottom lip up the length of my cock in a wet open-mouthed kiss that she seemed to drag out for hours. I shuddered, moving my trembling hands to the back of her head and holding them in her hair gently to guide her. She stopped just at the ridge of the tip, letting her lips brush as she spoke, “do you like it like this, Rex?” Before completely engulfing the throbbing head in the wet cavern of her mouth. I let out a choking moan, almost instantly rolling my hips up, desperate for more. Her eyelids hung heavy with sleep and arousal, but not enough to hide the perverse almost wicked dark lust consuming her.

“Fuuuck.” I groaned almost out of breath, the pounding in my chest nothing compared to the incessant, close to painful, aching of my cock between her closed lips. “I love it just like this. Just fucking like this. My good girl, always giving me what I need.” She hummed happily at my praise and bobbed her head down lower, slipping more of me into her. Her eyes fluttered only for a few seconds, blinking away how my cock stretching her mouth made her eyes water. I dropped my head back to the pillow, the muscles in my neck tightening as my entire body reacted to her sucking me off so beautifully. Her slightest little moans and suckling sounds making my toes curl in delight. Her cheeks hollowed and the pressure increased as she passed over every vein with her tongue.

I could feel an agonizing wave of pleasure building in my core, a burning tension pulling tighter the deeper she took me. My body soared, unable to feel or notice anything but the feeling of her wrapped around my dick. Stars above I’m gonna cum harder than I ever have like this.

Her tongue dragged up the deep throbbing vein on the underside of my length, the wet mess of spit and precum trickling onto my thighs. She’d done this so many times before. Each time better than the last. But this time? Maker I’d never seen her be so deliciously obscene. In all the times I’d jerked off to the memory of her between my legs like this, it was never as mind-blowing as right now. Fuck she looks so good. The sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Always. Hell I’m rambling. My head’s a mess. Well both of them are. I gulped down a deep moan, my chest heaving as I fought to hold on to whatever ounce of sanity I had left.

She suckled my tip hard, the pressure combining with the swirl of her tongue made my grip in her hair tighter. She let go of me with a pop and smiled wide. Prettiest thing in the galaxy. Looking so shamelessly gorgeous and proud while doing the most lewd thing I could imagine. Even if someone walked in right now, I honestly don’t think anything could make me care one bit. “You gonna cum for me, Rex? Let me taste you. Let me swallow every last drop and clean you up? My messy Captain.” Her hands slid down my shaft to massage my balls and I nearly cried from the overstimulation. She laughed menacingly, knowing every touch was driving me nuts and bringing me seconds closer to the reward she wanted. A sultry smirk quirked at the corner of her mouth as she spoke again, “Cum for me, Rex.”

I lifted my head from my pillows and propped myself up on one elbow just in time to make perfect eye contact with her as she took me to the hilt. My jaw dropped open, harsh breaths rushing out to avoid making all the moans I couldn’t right now. I guided her with my other hand, bobbing her head up and down to my liking now. Her mouth contracted as I bottomed out in her throat, the gagging, choking around my throbbing cock only spurring me on more. “Yes mesh’la…take my fucking cock. I’m gonna cum right down your throat. Just like you want. Any-anything you want.”

She moaned softly around me, the gentle vibrations up my shaft sending jolts through my every last nerve. I was rocketing towards my climax, ready to cum hard inside her. I tapped the high of her cheekbone with the pad of my thumb to warn her as I felt the surge bubbling up in my core. She sucked her cheeks together even tighter, making my jaw clench to keep from moaning her name loud enough for the whole galaxy to hear. I screwed my eyes shut, my heavy brows furrowing together to concentrate on the collision course I was heading down. She swallowed around me, pulling off to just the tip and licking the weeping slit slowly. That was it.

My mind wiped and my limbs went numb, the tension in my core snapping as I bucked forward into her. Her tongue danced around underneath my rim, patiently waiting for me to spill inside her mouth. Gentle hands curled around the base, tugging perfectly to help me aim as my muscles spasmed and tensed. I felt myself explode, my climax hitting me so hard I gasped out loud as the first spurt launched a white ribbon onto her tongue. I panted as the throbbing overtook me, shooting my release inside her again and again with each tense of my burning core. “Fuck…fuck…fuck…” I whispered, wishing more than anything I could be louder than this.

I opened my eyes to see I’d missed quite a bit, thick ribbons of cum coating her lips and chin and tongue. I removed my hand from the tense grip in her hair and slid my thumb up her chin and along her lower lip, collecting my spend and guiding it into her waiting mouth. “Every last drop, pretty girl. Just like you wanted.” Her jaw dropped open, tongue out showing the pool of me she’d collected as I finished. I guided my hand down her throat and gripped delicately. “Now, swallow for me. Your Captain isn’t that messy.” I panted, softly chuckling as I waited for her to obey. And she did, letting me feel her swallow it down in one gulp. “Hmmm, got it all? Show me.” She dropped her jaw open, tongue lolling out to prove it.

Slowly, she crawled up the cot, resting her chest on mine and her hand on my cheek. I wrapped my arms around her back, cuddling her tightly to me. Her eyes brightened as I looked up at her, hair messy, lips swollen and eyes watering. “Good morning.” She murmured, nudging my nose with her own. Warm breath ghosted over my lips as she pressed us into a tender kiss. I slipped my tongue inside, tasting the salty tang of my own release on her sweet tongue. My hands found either side of her neck and I deepened the kiss, chasing after her each time she broke to breathe.

“Hmmm very good morning.” I hummed, massaging the back of her neck with my fingers. “Think anyone heard?” I asked, tipping my chin up to look at the empty stairwell Cut and Suu went up last night.

“Doubt it. It’s too early for normal people. Your brother’s not a soldier anymore. And since they’re probably leaving, he doesn’t have to worry about the farm anymore either.” She propped herself up on my hips and looked out the window behind us. “They only have a few days to get things together before they should go. The sooner, the better. Us too.” She muttered, looking back down at me and sinking into my chest again.

“I know. We should leave in a few hours. We’ve got someone else to track down. If we can.” I thought out loud, trying to remember if the Bad Batch ever mentioned anything about places they liked to go. “I want to go find Echo.”

“Any idea where to look?” She asked, nuzzling into my neck and grazing fingertips across my buzzed hair.

“No. Though, Ahsoka left me with names of a few people we could ask to do some digging for us. A couple smuggling sisters. Maybe they know something.” I shrugged, wondering how anyone keeps in contact with each other without being tracked on comms like we always were in the GAR.

“I haven’t seen Echo in a long time. Since everything happened. Since before Fives...” Her voice trailed off, letting out a sigh and hugging me tighter. “Do you think he’s alright?”

I thought about the things the Seppies had done to him. The mechanical spine, the droid spiked hand, the implant in his brain. The implant…I wonder…if his brain was modified that likely overrides anything organic in his brain. The chip included. The Seppies might have inadvertently saved him from himself. I smiled, thinking about how proud Fives would be that his twin brother stuck it to the Separatists by escaping and to the Empire by telling them to shove their order up their ass. He was alright. Some part of me just knew he was.

“I think he’s out there wondering the same thing about us. The Bad Batch boys are a little much, but I bet they’re not too thrilled about the Empire either. Once we get off this planet, we’ll find them and send them to help Cut. Keep them all together I guess.” I rubbed her arm affectionately and kissed her forehead.

“I can’t wait to hug him. Tell him how much I missed him.”

“Echo will love that. Loves getting compliments from pretty girls.” I teased, reaching to take her hand in mine. She obliged and laughed, tucking our joined hands into her chest.

“Even if it’s from your pretty girl? Surely you don’t want your little brother flirting with me.” She retorted, resting her head on my chest and tightening her grip on my hand.

“He wouldn’t dare. He knows better.” I laughed, remembering the time he confessed that he’d had a not so innocent dream about her while we were on a long tour of duty. I made sure to be extra loud when I commed her that night. I didn’t mind the occasional look or anything and I loved my brothers. But maker she was mine and I didn’t want to share her like that with anyone. It’s bad enough we all had the same face, which she could easily leave for one she liked the look of more than mine. But she always chose me and stars I shared enough things with them.

“What are the other guys like? I’ve never really heard about them.” She asked, pulling up on the blankets to keep us warm.

“Where do I start?” I sighed, remembering how actually exhausting it was to be around them when we weren’t in battle. It all became very sensory overload, even for me. “Hunter is their Sargent. Long hair, quiet and brooding. He’s got these heightened senses or something. His intuition is never wrong though. Great soldier. And then there’s Wrecker. Huge, ripped, and loud. Really likes to blow stuff up. He makes me look small.” I commented, raising my arm and curling a bicep, noting how easily he probably could break my arm if he tried hard enough. Not that he ever would. For as large as he was, he was a huge softie.

She rolled over on top of me, resting her chin on her arms folded beneath her. Her head tilted, eyes dreamy as she listened to me tell stories about my brothers. Somehow, she never got tired of hearing about each and every one of them and their little quirks. I had so many stories to tell, but no one had ever asked. Apart from a few decent Jedi, no one had ever cared. But she did. And she tried incredibly hard to remember every single one of them. Not unlike the General. She cared about us, not just because she loved me, but because she saw us all for the living, breathing human men we were. She cared deeply about us as people when most people, Republic or Separatist, found it easier to pretend we weren’t.

I explained how Tech would probably talk her ear off and know entirely too much about her simply from observation alone and how much she’d probably fight with Crosshair about his constant need to make pessimistic and borderline rude comments under his breath. They were in for even more of a shock than Cut was if I were to find them, since they thought I was dead. Especially once they realized I was on the run with her. Echo would lecture me about how dangerous it was to take her with me. But none of them understood how hard it was to lose everything. To be the reason most of your family is dead. And hell I’d like to see them try to talk her out of staying beside me. That’s one battle no one would ever win.

Before long, the sound of small voices carried through the small hut, gentle footsteps following after that. The two little ones were up and it wouldn’t be long before they realized they had visitors. I motioned for her to pull my underwear back up for me and she laughed, very gently clothing me without trying to raise any more suspicion.

“Mom? Do you need me to start the caf pot?” A little girl’s voice called, as the stairs began creaking at her light footsteps.

“I wanna do it! I wanna do it!” A raspy little boy’s voice whined, the steps creaking even more as the two started bounding down the stairs together.

“My darlings, you’re both going to need to fill the pot today. We have company.” Suu called from behind them.

“Company? Who’s here Mom?” The girl questioned, suddenly appearing before us at the foot of the stairwell. She froze, her pink eyes wide with shock as she studied my familiar face. She’d gotten so tall. The colors on her face had changed too, more blue and dappled with lighter patches.

Her brother slammed into her, gripping her forearm as he peered around to see who she was staring at. “Uncle Rex?” He stammered, tilting his head, as his brown eyes scanned the floor for my armor. They settled on my helmet and his face lit up. I bet he’d know those jaig eyes anywhere.

“Rex!!” They shouted, running over to me excitedly. My eyes went wide and I froze, lifting my hands in shock at such a warm greeting. The last time I was here I wasn’t exactly friendly or warm and fuzzy at first.

“Who’s she?” Shaeeah asked, pointing at where she sat on the bed behind me.

“That’s Rex’s…cy-cyare…obviously.” Jek answered, rolling his eyes at his sister as the Mando’a word fell sloppily from his lips.

“That’s cyare, Jek.” His sister corrected loudly before whispering, “And don’t assume that without asking, that’s rude. You know Daddy says his brothers don’t usually have cyare’s like Mom.”

I tipped my head back and laughed, the first good laugh that I had in a very long time. Because my brother couldn’t have been more wrong. Most of us had someone they thought about coming home to when the war was over. If the war was ever going to be over for us. Doesn’t mean they all necessarily did something about it. Most probably didn’t. But I knew they wanted to. I knew that better than anyone. I grabbed her hand in mine and kissed the back of it softly.

“Well this brother does.” I introduced her to the two of them as Cut and Suu walked down the stairs to join us.

“I’m Shaeeah and this is Jek.” Shaeeah said, pointing to her brother now looking at my helmet on the ground and not paying any attention. “You’re very pretty.”

“Yes…she is.” I agreed, her gaze meeting mine with a thankful smile as she realized how comforting it was to be this open about how we felt about each other in front of people.

Her face flushed and she smiled, looking down at her lap modestly. She removed her hand from mine and held it out to shake Shaeeah’s tiny blue one. She held it so delicately, more gently than she usually was with me. It was soft and nurturing, like how she helped clean my wounds and literally scraped me off the floor a few days ago. Shaeeah began rattling off a ton of questions, which she answered with ease, entertaining the little girl’s hunger for knowledge.

Watching her interact with Shaeeah made my heart swell and my chest ache in a way it never had before. She was just so naturally good with them, immediately drawing their attention and softening in a way she never did for anyone. Sure I’d seen other people with their kids on lots of planets I had visited. But this was so much different. This was someone I cared about giving me a glimpse into what a normal life might look like for us. In all my years fighting battles, leading my brothers and traveling the galaxy, I’d never thought about kids of my own even once. It never made strategic sense for me. For most clones.

How could I go on tours of duty and leave a family behind knowing I might not come back for them this time? I couldn’t live with myself if people I loved had to lose even one person they cared about. No one else should have to lose their family like I had. I didn’t want them to ever be left with the holes in their soul that could only be filled by someone you won’t ever get back. Brothers you’ll never see the likes of again, no matter how many identical versions of them you knew. Loss hurt so much more than blaster wounds and I’d rather be shot a dozen times than leave that kind of empty wound that won’t heal. No one else alive should have to know loss like clones did.

Yet, watching her now, suddenly it made all the sense in the galaxy. The way she’d pass on all that fight in her, the whip smart knowledge she had, the deep-rooted value she had for the rights of people, all people. Especially us clones. She could literally give life to all the dreams I’d ever had of a better galaxy, with better people in it. Like maybe making a few new lives would make the sacrifice of the brothers I lost worth it. If one of us could live, then maybe all my brothers’ deaths weren’t such a total waste. Maybe being surrounded by that much love would make the emptiness I feel go away. Maybe that’s why Cut did what he did. I didn’t know what a mother was. What one might feel like or look like. None of us clones ever had one. But looking at her, I understood. Somewhere deep down something just sparked in me…now I knew.

I looked at her with all the hope left in the galaxy. I probably looked incredibly dumb, but it felt right. It couldn’t happen right now. Not as we’re on the run and committed to saving what few brothers I can locate safely. But maybe if this last mission is a success, then a normal life together would be some kind of reward. For once I actually think I do deserve that much for all I’ve suffered. Would be proof to all clones left that there is a life for us outside of war. That we don’t have to fight for something we don’t believe in. We can choose. Like Cut did. Like I will the second each and every remaining brother knows the truth. Knows the love I know.

Yeah, that’ll be the day. Fives would be so proud.

Mando'a Translations: Ni ceta, ner vod’ika. = I’m sorry, my little brother Solus kar’ta, solus tal’din. = Fives' "Same heart, Same blood." Directly translates to One heart, One bloodline. But I thought this phrasing rolled off the tongue better.

19 BBY – Mid-Rim Hyperspace Lane

They were probably going to be late.

Well, not technically late, but Talia knew Rex preferred to get to briefings early, give himself a chance to glance over anything on the war maps and displays before Anakin arrived at the bridge. But this morning, like so many these past few weeks he was motivated otherwise.

A series of Separatist strikes in the mid-rim called for larger Republic forces to unite, which meant the 501st and the 412th had been assigned together on one mission after the other. Due to a precedent set by previous assignments together, Talia was known to travel with the 501st if they worked together since she claimed it was the only way to know Anakin was answering her comms, which worked in her favor this time around as it gave her an excuse to be around Rex more. They knew what limits to have; if they were in active duty, or anywhere near the threat of action, everything was strictly professional. But that left the long hours of space travel open to moments of sneaking in supply closets for a quiet moment or nights in the other’s quarters.

Rex’s status as a Captain still afforded him his own private quarters, and though they were more confined than the ones granted to Talia as a Jedi, she always preferred to stay in his. There was just something…Rex about the space. The lingering presence of him seeped into the corners of the small space, an echo of every late night working, snide jokes with his brothers, or even the sense of a calm that took place after a long campaign. He kept it almost religiously clean, and would side eye her when she errantly tossed her towel or or left her cups from tea or caf sitting on his desk. It often became the spot Rex could find Talia after a long day; he would return from his shift on the bridge to find her deep in meditation or scrolling through a datapad, always looking up at him with a smile when he came in. They also took advantage of these moments alone.

It was like they could never get enough, as if a single moment spent outside of the other’s company was wasted. As if any second they weren’t touching each other was pointless, every part of their skin that wasn’t clinging to the other didn’t exist. This morning was particularly dedicated to those little promises as Rex crowded Talia into the wall of the tiny shower, her breasts pressed to the cool durasteel wall, a direct sensory contradiction to the warm length of his cock gliding against her cunt. The water from the faucet cascaded down their skin, the steam enveloping them as Rex’s bare chest met her back, his hips tauntingly grinding against her. Talia whined as the head of his cock nudged against her clit, her hips frantically pushing back to try and force him inside but Rex’s grip held her steady.

“Someone’s needy this morning,” Rex teased, his voice still raspy with sleep even though his body and mind were very much awake. With one hand on her waist, the other trailed up the side of her body, featherlight as he traced the swell under her breast, up to the soft skin of her neck, to lightly grip her jaw so her head angled to face him as much as possible.

“You started it,” Talia exhaled, smirking as much as possible with her face in Rex’s hands, half pressed against the wall. Her words were true, as Rex had woken her up with his face buried between her legs, his tongue languidly stroking her pussy as she whimpered above him, begging for him to just fuck her. And he did, filling her slowly as they rocked together and finished before their morning alarms even went off. But then Rex needed to shower, and Talia couldn’t resist the opportunity to join him. That had started innocently enough, but the tight stall accompanied with one particularly heady gaze flipped the switch for both of them to the position they found themselves in now.

Rex mouthed along her jaw, a curve apparent on his lips as his tongue slipped out to taste her skin as he continued his soft rutting against her sex, the water from the shower and the slickness from her arousal and his previous release coating his cock and allowing it to glide with ease. Talia’s skin was prickly, like the way he was touching her was too much and not enough all at once.

“Babe, please,” Talia whined.

“What is it, cyar’ika?”

“Fuck me, dammit, fuck me now,” she couldn’t even care about the crack in her high pitched voice. Rex was all around her, but she needed him inside her.

“Always so eloquent,” Rex chuckled against her skin, his breath hot on her as the words left his mouth. Always so calm and collected, a trait that usually only brought her further into his magnetic pull but only drove her into a state of aggravation in her need.

Panting heavily, she wiggled enough room in his heavy grasp, Talia was able to slide her hand down, between her legs and wrap her fingers around his cock as it rested against her. She squeezed it tightly, earning a whine in her ear as Rex’s composure faltered.

“Who’s the needy one now?” she managed to say with a false air of ease, trying to mask the desperation in her breath. She continued to lazily stroke him to the best of her ability from the current angle. From the mirror over the sink, she could barely make out his expression in the steam-covered reflection; the way his jaw tightened and his face scrunched up as he panted in her ear. He eased into her touch, his body almost collapsing against hers, just crushing her tighter against the wall. But his hands were still locked in place, the one from her jaw had slid to her neck, the other still grounded to her hip as if his grip was the one thing tethering him to this plane. Talia guided the head of his cock so it nudged against her entrance, and that seemed to awaken something in him. The desperation was still there, like iron through his veins, mingled with the assuredness and cocky side of his nature that was seeded in his very being.

Past the point for more teasing, or maybe he was just unable to speak more, Rex pressed into her. Talia keened against him, somehow always taken aback by the size of him as he filled her up. Murmured curses in Mando’a fell from Rex’s lips as he settled into a steady pace, the words once so foreign to her ears now as familiar as her own name, which joined the chorus of praises he was panting.

“Osik, mesh’l-la, how do you-?,” Talia partially made out, but in all honesty it was hard for her to focus on anything with how the blood was rushing in her head and how he was driving into her; his cock hitting her deeply with every purposeful thrust. She pushed back against him, the fat on her thighs and ass rippling as she met his force. A low, throaty groan rumbled from Rex as he only pushed harder. “Oh, Talia. So perfect.”

His voice was a kindling to the fire burning in her gut, just further advancing the flame trickling up her skin. Talia’s hands pressed harder against the wall, slipping from the water running down it as she pushed back against him. Rex’s hand left her neck, just to clench around hers on the wall, his grasp so tight his knuckles lightened. The sounds of his hip slapping against her ass echoed on the walls, his grunting and her moans almost lost under the steady stream of the shower water raining over them. The hand on Talia’s hip loosened its grip, just so Rex could circle her clit with his fingers. Talia’s head snapped back, angling over Rex’s shoulder as she failed to keep in the pleasured, high-pitched whine from his fingers over her, preparing to pluck another orgasm from her wrung out body.

“That’s it,” Rex groaned as the walls of her cunt clenched around him. His voice was low, coarse, and pleading, “Come for me.”

Talia’s orgasm rolled over her, her muscles tensing and her legs barely able to still stand upright as Rex continued to fuck her at a devastating pace. His breath was hot and heavy in her ear as he grunted out, before spilling inside her with his own orgasm. His hips rolled slowly before halting, his chest heaving against her back. His lips caressed the curve of her neck, murmuring praises into her as she regained the strength in her legs.

“Now we should actually try and get clean,” Talia chuckled breathily, angling her head to face a flushed-faced Rex. He smiled softly at her, pecked her on the lips and pulled himself out of her. In all reality the shower was a bit too small for the both of them to be in there at the same time, but even without their previous activities it was convenient for saving time. They usually traded off who would rub the soap on the other, where they would stand under the stream of water. Rex liked massaging the shampoo through Talia’s hair, and in return loved the soothing circles of her hands against his back as she wiped away the lingering suds of soap.

For both of them, getting ready for the day was a simple affair. Talia just had her simple robes, and braided half her hair up before allowing the rest to dry. Putting on his armor quickly was something ingrained in Rex practically since his decanting; he could do it without thinking on a moment’s notice when called for action. It took longer when Talia was there, because she liked helping him clasp it on. She never tried to when she knew they were really in a rush, and she knew she probably more than doubled the amount of time it would take him to get in his kit, but there was something she liked about the methodical process of latching each piece of plastoid to his body. It was a chance to see him before he donned the armor, the last shreds of him that were private just for her before they left the room and had to go back to duty.

The Theseus System was located on the borders of the Mid and Outer Rim. Much of the system was uninhabitable, but it was home to Vakarus, a gas giant vital to much of the Galaxy’s Tibanna supply. Most commercial ventures preferred to trade with the mining colony on Bespin to fuel their hyperdrives, but in war time the control of such a substance could mean life or death for many star systems. The base on Vakarus was under Republic control due to pre-existing treaties, but the Republic had lost contact with the station a week ago. All signs pointed to a Separatist occupation, which left a hole in the Republic’s resources, which set them back in the war. The matter of taking Vakarus back wasn’t as simple as a simple siege; not only did they not want to risk damaging any of the mining facilities, but the planet’s orbital atmosphere also provided an unfitting atmosphere for attack. Vakarrus was surrounded by an asteroid belt, some of which operated as fueling stations or refineries to boost the business from the planet. These larger asteroids orbited the planet in enough of a frequency that they could be safely plotted between, creating a reliable path to the planet for smaller vessels, but taking a Republic Star Destroyer through the mass field wasn’t possible. With Separatists controlling the system, they had wasted little time setting up their defenses around the planet, including on these asteroid stations orbiting the planet.

Rex had been studying the map for a better half of the morning, memorized which stations were most heavily fortified and knew this would be a heavy battle for the Republic Navy, which was already decimated much at this point in the war. Ground troops wouldn’t see much of the action here, until the final siege of the base, but Rex still took it upon himself to be involved in the planning. That left the job of navigating the field, retaking the stations and coordinating the squadrons to Talia and Anakin.

“Our plan of attack is straightforward,” Talia announced to the briefing room as her eyes darted over the holographic map. Rex watched as she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and returned her gaze to Anakin, who stood at the opposite end of the table. “We follow the nav path through the stations, bombers targeting out the Separatist anti-spacecraft artillery first then fighters following the path the take care of the Separatist forces. We take a methodical approach, station by station before we reach the mining facilities on Vakarus.”

Anakin’s eyes narrowed at the path lit up at Talia’s motions, “That could take days, time we don’t have on our hands.”

Talia frowned at him, but kept her composure, “It will take more time, yes, but we can’t risk a harsher assault and worse damage to the stations. And our destroyers can’t navigate through that asteroid field without blasting the stations.”

“Yes, we can’t risk damage to the stations, but if we take an alternative route,” Anakin started, pulling up a wider graph on the planet. With a wave of his hands, he highlighted one of the larger asteroids on the far side of the planet. “Our scouts reported the main Separatist stronghold, outside of the planet’s defenses, is on the asteroid IX-10. I’m suggesting I lead a squadron to the asteroid, if we knock out their defenses and comm systems we can clear a path straight to Vakarus for the rest of the fleet.”

“It’s ambitious but too risky,” Talia answered bluntly with a shake of her head, “You’re an amazing pilot and I’m sure you’ll get through unscathed, but your squadron will face heavy losses just navigating that part of the field. It’s not just the asteroids, the orbital pull of the planet is too strong, and there’s the debris of previous ships who have tried and failed. The shields of our basic fighters would be breached with a simple nudge.”

“And your path will cause just as many, if not more losses, by the time it takes you to reach Vakarus,” Anakin insisted. “Once the first station is attacked, the Separatist forces will be on high alert, reinforcing each station in the path. If we cut off the comms from IX-10, we’ll also cut off their ability to reinforce the stations.”

Talia exhaled loudly, planting both hands on the table as she leaned over, “Only if enough of your ships even make it there to take it out; this plan works best if we have the full force of our fighters coordinating the attack-“

“And the best way we do that is by splitting the field,” Anakin cut Talia off, his arms crossing as he stood his ground. “Besides, if we take IX-10, then we have a straight shot to the facilities on Vakarus. Your squadron should arrive just in time to back us up.”

Talia’s eyes flashed as she pushed herself off the table. She paced around, her tongue in cheek as she took in the charts. Her eyes darted to Rex with an expectant look, who now shifted uncomfortably in his boots. “Captain Rex, what do you think?”

Rex’s grip fumbled slightly on the helmet under his arms, his eyes leaving Talia’s face to example the map one last time in hopes it would help him find the proper words.

“The idea to approach the system station by station is a sound one, Sir” Rex started, each word level. Talia’s mouth opened as if she were about to confirm her correctness with Anakin, when Rex continued, “But General Skywalker is right, we stand the best chance by focusing on the station at IX-10 first. Plus, we’ll have the element of surprise if you attack the first depot, they won’t be expecting fighters to the main hub that quickly if they think we’re only attacking via the main route.”

Anakin nodded at his Captain then glanced smugly back at Talia. Rex returned the nod, before glancing back at Talia, who was avoiding his gaze and pursing her lips as she read the maps in front of her.

“Fine, we’ll do it your way then,” Talia said tensely, reorganizing the fighter rotations on the map to portray the dual assault, then she turned on her heels and exited the war room.

“D3, see what you can reroute to boost our shield regenerators,” Talia addressed the little droid buzzing around her starfighter as she sat in the cockpit. She had just gotten off a comm with Captain Storm, informing him that she would rendezvous back with the 412th before the cruisers made the lightspeed jump that would bring them into the Theseus system. Something she wouldn’t have had to do if they were coordinating the attack together as planned. Storm had caught the frustration in her tone when he commented positively on the plan, but Storm knew better than to press her on it now. At least before the battle; she was sure he would question her later.

The hangar was crowded with clones prepping their stations; engineers fueling up the fighters as Anakin and Rex briefed a group of pilots. Small squads for ground support were loading up dropships, and munitions were being carted around. Talia’s starfighter was just finishing fueling, and she was going through her own final checkups before departing. The perks of being on a different ship than her command was that she could usually maneuver in the hangar without being interrupted. Her fingers tapping along the control panel, she was impatient to leave this cruiser already. She just needed D3 to finish up and she could get out of here.

“General, do you have a moment?” Damn, she really should have closed the cockpit. Rex slowly stepped up to the side of the fighter, his eyes darting around them before returning to her, an imploring look on his tired face. With a sigh, Talia pushed herself up to step out of the fighter. Rex offered his hand to help her down, but she purposefully ignored it, calling on the force to guide her more gently as she jumped down.

“Yes, Captain?” She addressed him with a bit more rudeness than originally intended. At his furrowed brow, she turned to examine her ship, grabbing a rag and pretending to try and wipe off a blaster burn that had been there since the start of the war.

“You’re upset.”

Talia almost snorted. With all his keen skills of perception, that was all he could come up with. Still, she tried to hold in some of her bitterness.

“No, why would I be,” she answered a little lighter, turning around to face him again, her back leaning against the fighter. Rex always had this look as if he was trying to read every emotion on her face as he glanced at her, his honey eyes slightly narrowed at her still tight tone. He exhaled and glanced over his shoulder once more before continuing.

“I’ve served with General Skywalker for a long time, I know his plans can be risky but they always accomplish our goal,” Rex addressed simply, his tone softer than it would usually be talking about battle plans with her. “Besides, this way, there will end up being less heat on you and your men, making it a little safer-“

“I don’t need you diverting troops just for my safety.” Talia’s clipped tone came back as she couldn’t hold her glare.

“That’s not what I meant.” Rex held his hand up as he backtracked, “I just mean that while your squadron will have a harder run at the first depot, you’ll have less losses overall once the hub falls.”

“Yes, I know you agree with Anakin’s perfect plan.”

“I never said it was perfect, I agree it has its faults, but I trust General Skywalker with my life,” Rex retorted, his own words a bit short. ”And putting me on the spot between you two isn’t fair.”

“I wasn’t putting you on the spot, I was just asking for an opinion on strategy!”

“Which is fine, but you’re getting upset just because I don’t agree with you!”

“It’s not- that’s not it,” Talia sighed, trying to soften her gaze but she was still tense, her stomach gutted. “It wasn’t fair of me; I know, his plan makes sense in the larger scheme.”

Rex frowned, about to take a step closer but halted. “Then what’s-?”

“He just always has to show me up, doesn’t he?” Talia declared irately, pushing off the fighter. Before Rex could question her further, she snapped at him, “Do you know what it’s like, no matter how hard you try, no matter how good you are at something; there’s always someone better? That’s how it’s always been with Anakin. He showed up to the Temple, and in his first month mastered things that I took years to learn. He even already had a master, something I had to wait another three years for. No matter how hard I train, no matter how many battles I win, Anakin is always one step ahead of me proving he can do it better.”

She had to turn her head to the side, avoiding his eyes as she fought off the frustrated tears that prickled in the corner of her eyes.

“No one thinks that-“ Rex started, his voice soft and measured just to be interrupted this time by a huff of sarcastic laughter that Talia couldn’t hold in.

“You just picked his plan over mine; you know it’s better! And I know the Council thinks of it that way,” she continued ranting. “I mean, how could they not when they have their ‘Chosen One” to compare everything to. General Skywalker, leader of the Republic’s finest troops, compared to Talia who lost all her men on a recovery mission.”

“Talia,” Rex said lowly, eyes round in concern as he approached as much as he dared. “No one blames you for that; it was out of your control.”

Talia wiped her eyes with the back of her forearm before any tears could fall. She tried to turn away, but Rex gripped her forearm, only to drop it as a group of pilots patrolled by. With one last glance over his shoulder when they passed, Rex breathed in, stepping closer to Talia, and speaking even lower than before.

“Look, Talia. I love you. I’ve seen you do unimaginable things, and have seen how much your men respect and trust you. General Skywalker’s skills don’t take away from your own.”

Talia opened her mouth to spew off more arguments running through her brain when Rex took his chance to cut her off, his voice still calm and measured as he attempted to reassure her, “And just because I agree with him on this, doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re a great leader too.”

The kneading feeling in her gut subsiding a bit, Talia looked into his face again, into the calming honey of his eyes as he gazed back at her, the true image of support and admiration. She was about to express her thanks when footsteps approaching caused her to step back.

“You ready for this, Captain?” A clone with a standard crew cut, but an elaborate design of a nebula on his chest plate called out as he approached; Talia recognized him as Broadside, one of the pilots from Anakin’s Shadow Squadron. Fives strode by his side, his eyes rolling until they landed on Rex and Talia. Fives glanced at Talia, raising a brow, to which she just softly shook her head signaling not to worry about it.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Rex exhaled slowly, a slight irritation clipping his tone as he turned to face his brothers. Fives walked to his side, and nudged him in the side with his elbow.

“Told you before, Broadside, Rex can handle anything you karbakarse can,” Fives emphasized with a slap on his Captain’s back. “A few asteroids won’t change that.”

“Wait, you’re piloting on this mission?” Talia’s head snapped to Rex, her eyes narrowed as her heart skipped a beat.

Rex opened his mouth to explain but he was beaten to the punch by Broadside, “Just a fun competition between vode, and Rex here stepped up to the plate.”

“You’re piloting?” Talia repeated, not even masking her frustration. Broadside didn’t seem to notice, but Fives’ eyes were darting between Talia and a now tight-jawed Rex.

“I can handle it,” Rex answered stiffly, his face clearly saying to not press it more at the moment. But Talia didn’t care to, she didn’t have the energy to say all the words running through her mind at how reckless this was, on any mission save one this dangerous. Was it worth putting himself in danger just for some bet between brothers? With how Fives and Broadside were teasing each other, it seemed the concern was only in her mind, but that didn’t ease her irritation. Without another word, she turned back to her ship, and climbed back into the cockpit.

Rex turned to her, his mouth opening as another tired expression overtook his face, but she closed the cockpit before he could get them out. The men stepped back as she was signaled ready for takeoff, and she couldn’t fly off that ship fast enough.

When Talia was in the black void of space, she realized Rex had said he loved her.

Talia hated that Anakin was right.

Her squadron’s assault on the first station was met with heavy Separatist resistance; in the time they’d had to fortify the station, the droid army had installed heavily anti-spacecraft artillery and the station was crawling with vulture droids. Talia had just barely evaded multiple shots to her fighter before the bombers were finally able to take out the heavy guns, but that still left the vulture droids to deal with. When they thought they had a moment to move on to the next station, reinforcements arrived; just as Anakin predicted, once one station was attacked, the defense systems would target any threat incoming. Her squadron was holding their own, but they had still experienced many casualties to take the first station. The plan was to recuperate as much as they could, repair damages, secure the station, heal the wounded, and move on. Halfway to the second station they got the news; Shadow Squadron had made contact at IX-10. The result was almost immediate: not only had the Separatists failed to reinforce the station as quickly as they had the first, but their forces seemed in disarray. The station was under Republic control by the time Anakin sent word that they had taken control of IX-10 and were departing for the planet. Begrudgingly, Talia congratulated him, and signaled for her troops to prep back in the attack division, as they had to rally through the last of the stations before reinforcing Anakin’s men.

Vakarus’s main facility had little defenses. The Separatist army had been relying on the asteroid systems to hold back any sieging force, but once Anakin had broken through, they were scattered. Half diverted to follow Anakin’s path, the other half left behind at each station were easily taken care of by Talia’s force as it came through. There was little work for her and her men to do once they arrived at the planet, just take care of some straggling fighters. She landed just after her ground troops had cleared the facility, Captain Storm approaching her fighter as she got out.

“Ground defenses were minimal; we took out the tactical droid just before you landed. There’s a decent civilian workforce who suffered some casualties, and we have some prisoners held in the main building,” Storm listed off the updates as they patrolled to the main building. Some of Shadow Squadron’s fighters still flew overhead. Talia couldn’t fight off the bit of worry in her gut wondering if one of them was Rex.

“Prisoners? Since when do we take droids as prisoners?” Talia asked abruptly as she realized what Storm had said.

“Not droids, Sir,” He informed with a frown, creasing the tattoos below his lips. “It seems it wasn’t Separatists who took the facility in the first place; they were laying their own siege when we started to attack.”

“What, but we lost contact a week ago?” Talia questioned, halting in her tracks to face him.

“We rounded up a group of mercs, they were the ones who took the station,” Storm said, signaling to the main building behind him. Talia frowned but followed him in. It was bold for a group of mercs to target a station like Vakarus; did they think it would go unnoticed in the way of the war? And what good had it done if the Separatists came right after? As if reading her thoughts, something that must have come from working together for so long, Storm continued, “They haven’t answered the question, but we think they might have something laying around, they don’t seem like they had time to clean things up before the droids got here.”

“Thanks Storm, have them transported to the ship, and we can have them transferred to Coruscant for more questioning,” Talia ordered, walking into the main building with D3 floating behind her. The room was loaded with consoles on the mining activities, all that seemed to have been halted during the series of attacks. Setting up at one of the terminals, she just needed to see if the mercs had any sort of communications off world. If she found out who they were working for, that was all she really needed. Sure, she could have assigned one of the clones to go over the information, and to their credit there were some already on the task, but Talia found there was something therapeutic about data retrieval.

The system’s log was fairly simple, most of the messages were just logging shipments to the stations. The mercs hadn’t been in control long enough to really disrupt the network, but Talia did notice an increase of shipments to Ord Mantell and Oba Diah. For Ord Mantell, she could probably reach out to an old contact of hers, Cid for info on ideas, but Oba Diah? Judging by their armour, these men weren’t Pykes, but were they working for them? Scanning through more of the logs Talia found no more irregularities until D3 chimed in from the terminal next to her.

“What’s up, buddy?” Talia asked tiredly as the little droid beeped. Rotating in her chair, she read what it had pulled up on the screen. It was a message log, and while there was nothing specific about who was sending it, the message was stamped with a circular logo she had seen before. “Hey, D3, can you run a scan on this emblem?”

D3 pulled up the search as Talia checked her comms - no word from Anakin or Rex yet. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she admonished herself for how she took her mood out against Rex. She still didn’t feel great, especially since Anakin’s success only proved her own insecurities in her mind. And did Rex really mean what he said, did he love her? Had it been just something he said in the heat of the moment, or did he really mean it like that? Talia knew Rex wasn’t the person to say something just to say it, but it threw her off, and she couldn’t pinpoint why.

D3 chirped next to her and she perked up again, scanning over what it found now. This piqued her curiosity; the mercs belonged to Crimson Dawn. She had only seen them pop up a few times in undercover missions; they normally went after much smaller colonies with lower defenses, not an operation this big that would gain both Republic and Separatist attention. She had D3 download the data and decided she would forward it on to the Council to see if it was worth investigating more.

On the flight back to the Anakin’s venator something was plaguing her, a sense of dread she couldn’t figure out. She was distracted enough that a small bit of debris knocked into her hull; not enough to do serious damage, but she would need to get it repaired before she departed again. She wanted to hear any mission updates Anakin had in person, even if it meant having to deal with his intolerable gloating. Docking her ship, she noticed him and Fives standing together, their heads bent close as she powered off her systems. They waited for her to exit before they started to approach.

“I’ll let you say you were right once,” Talia started, cutting off Anakin as his mouth opened. “Have you sent word to the Council yet? I have some stuff to update them on-“

“Talia-“ Anakin attempted to cut her off but she kept going.

“The mercs who first took the base are from Crimson Dawn, something the Council will no doubt want either of us to look in to-“

“Talia, listen to me for a minute,” Anakin finally got his words through and Talia paused in her updates, arching a brow at him expectantly. He looked exhausted, she had expected her to smugly greet her, not be in this weary frustrated state he was in now. More than just frustrated - Anakin was angry, it seemed like he was hanging on by a thread. And Fives was too quiet, his eyes round as they tracked her face. Maybe Rex would explain what was going on with them…

“Where’s Rex?” Talia asked slowly, eyes flicking from Anakin’s face to Fives’. When her gaze lingered on the ARC Trooper she recognized his expression, one of apologetic guilt. That sense of dread now knotted her gut.

“After taking the base, a Separatist squadron intercepted us on the way to the planet,” Anakin started, Talia’s eyes staring at him as he spoke, her feet frozen to the ground where she stood. “Rex got covered by buzz droids, his fighter went down on the route.”

The hangar could have been silent to Talia’s ears as she gaped at Anakin. His words didn’t make sense. How could Rex’s fighter go down? What did that mean? Was Rex…gone?

“A recovery squadron is already scanning the area,” Fives added at Talia’s silence. “R2 was his astromech, so we bet they could set up a signal if they-“

“They’re alive,” Anakin gritted out, leaving no room for argument. Talia just watched, still processing everything they had said. “I’m heading out now to join the search.”

Talia nodded slowly, “I’ll come too.”

But as she turned to her ship, the engineers were lowering her cruiser to the maintenance deck to fix the breach. Her head snapping back, she addressed Anakin, “I’ll take your fighter.”

“Talia, I can handle this. You stay here and update the Council,” Anakin shook his head, reaching his hand out to grab her arm.

“No, I am not staying here while Rex is missing,” Talia snapped, pulling her arm out of his reach. Ice and fire dripping from every word, she pointed her finger at Anakin. “Besides, you’ve done enough.”

Anakin glared at her, stepping closer to her, “It’s my astromech, and he’s my Captain.”

“And he’s my everything,” Talia hissed, unable to mask the crack in her voice as tears threatened to break free. A cold anger ran through her veins as she glared right back at Anakin, taking everything in her not to hit him right now. “I told you this was too risky, this was your plan.”

“And I’m going to make this right,” Anakin fired back, his voice raising and turning the heads of a few nearby clones. His scowl softened as watched Talia, her lip trembling as she tried to steel herself like she normally could. “You’re distracted right now. Try and..rela-“

“Don’t you dare tell me to relax,” She gritted out. She couldn’t even look at him anymore. Head pounding with an ache, she turned on her heel to storm out of the hangar, getting as much space as she could away from Anakin. She didn’t even know where her feet were carrying her, she just had to move. The halls were blurred around her as she winded through them, the clones saluting as she passed faceless. Her chest was tight, a lump in her throat as she needed to be away from all of them. Her feet carried her to the one place she knew she could get away from them all, where she could clear her head and restore her breathing to normal, but as the doors to Rex’s quarters closed behind her she couldn’t handle the solitude anymore.

She felt constrained, like the durasteel walls were pressing in against her, their cool surface crushing her, suffocated by the once comforting presence the room carried of Rex. Now it was just more of a reminder that he wasn’t here. That he might never-

No. He was Rex. He was invincible. He was going to come back and be fine. Rex was coming back to her.

Still, she couldn’t stop moving, pacing endlessly in the tiny room, cursing Anakin for not letting her just take his damn fighter and help. Maybe she could just grab another fighter from the hangar and be on her way. She was a General, she could do whatever the hell she pleased. Maybe she could call Storm, have him update the Council on her and Anakin’s behalf and get some of her own men in ships to join the search. They needed all hands on deck; what if there were more merc outposts? Or remaining droids? A knock on the door cut through her rambling thoughts and she froze in her steps – she shouldn’t have come here, who could it be-?

“Tal, I know you’re in there.”

Talia took a deep breath, reining in the tension that was erupting all over her body and waved her hand to unlock the door. Fives stepped in, locking the door behind him immediately as it shut, his armor still tarnished from the battle. Talia had never seen him so worn down, the usual joy buzzing in his eyes dimmed as he approached her with that same guilty look. And it only made her angrier.

“I’m fine,” Talia insisted, crossing her arms and facing him, her stance shifting as she fidgeted. Fives frowned and took a step closer to her. She bit her lip, shaking her head. “Was it worth it?”

“What?” Fives asked, pausing in front of her.

“The bet?” Talia continued, taking a step towards him as that coldness burned through her. “The ‘fun competition between vode’?”

"I know you’re upset-“

“No, I’m fine,” Talia repeated. She forced a small laugh to cap her sentence, shaking her head as she continued, her voice starting to strain as the lump in her throat fought its way to come out. “It’s not like the last time I saw Rex, I was so annoyed because of his recklessness that I didn’t say ‘goodbye’. Or that our last conversation was an argument because of my own damned insecurities, but I was too stubborn to even listen to him. And now he might be dea-.”

She couldn’t say it outloud, her words choked in a sob where she stood. The tears she had been holding in began to trickle down her cheeks. She swallowed, trying to take back control over her treacherous body, but failed as she shakingly said, “He can’t be gone, he can’t be-“

Strong arms wrapped around her as Fives tugged her into his chest, allowing her to burrow herself as much as she could into the cool plastoid as she fell apart. Sobs racked her body as she shook, tears pouring out like a dam had burst in her body releasing all the stress she had carried, but the flow wasn’t slowing. In fact, it was only stronger the more she cried, sapping all the energy out of her for any other coherent strain of word or thought. Fives seemed to sense this, as he guided her to the side, slowly lowering them to the floor, sitting so their backs rested against the bedframe, his hand slowly brushed along her back, soothing out the tension and slowing the tremoring sobs with each stroke.

“He said he loved me,” Talia said in a small voice, sniffling still. “No one’s ever said that to me before. And I couldn’t say it back.”

“You’ll get your chance,” Fives answered firmly. When Talia lifted her head up, about to voice more fears he shook his head and continued over her, “Rex isn’t going out like this, shot down by some stinking clankers. They’ll find him, they have to.”

Fives spoke with a finality that couldn't be broached, and Talia realized he was speaking as much to himself as he was to her. She couldn’t help but feel guilty for how she was acting. Fives was here, comforting her, when he might have lost yet another brother.

“I’m surprised he actually admitted it,” Fives continued and Talia looked at him questioningly until she remembered what she told him. “My money would have been on you saying something first.”

Talia was surprised she was able to giggle at all in response, “Please stop making bets on my love life.”

“Hey, I said ‘would have’,” Fives teased, his hand still rubbing on her back as she straightened up. She wiped the tears off her cheek and looked down abruptly, suddenly embarrassed for how she was acting. Fives didn’t seem to care though, as he continued, “You two will be fine; he’ll come back, and you two will be right back to staring wide eyed at each other and sneaking into storage closets when you think I’m not paying attention.”

Talia nudged him as a smile crept onto her face, “Careful Fives, you almost sound jealous.”

“Ehh, maybe a little,” Fives sighed. As Talia gazed at him perplexedly, he just tossed a grin and shrugged, “You guys have something special. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want something like that too.”

“Fives!” Talia started, grabbing his hand in hers as he suddenly seemed bashful for admitting it out loud. “You’re such a flirt, I just never thought you would actually want a relationship.”

“Well, it’s easy to just have one-night stands,” Fives answered. “Not have to worry someone when you aren’t in contact for a few days, or that you don’t know the next time you’ll be able to see them. Still, I can’t say it isn’t a bit lonely.”

“The right person wouldn’t care about those things, they would understand,” Talia said. “Look, Fives, you’re such a great guy. I know that anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Eh, I’ll probably just screw it up,” Fives said, waving it off, trying to sound lighthearted but Talia could hear the downheartedness in his tone. “Like I did with Zahara. She was so smart and had this laugh that just…but then I was a di’kut.”

“Fives…why don’t you just say that?” Talia asked. Fives arched a brow at her, so she continued, “Tell her you’re sorry, that you were an idiot, and that you actually want to get to know her. Next time you’re on leave, reach out to her to grab some caf. Just hang out, and don’t try to sleep with her. At least on the first date.”

“But that’s the best part,” Fives joked, grinning widely as Talia rolled her eyes. “I can be a gentleman, don’t worry.”

Talia shook her head out with a small smile, propping her knees up so she could rest her arms around them. She glanced around Rex’s quarters, his datapad still in the same place he had left it on his desk the night before, the cup of tea she had brought him to convince him to join her in bed right next to it. Her gut turned as she glanced around the room, remembering what brought her here in the first place.

“Hey, you going to be ok?” Fives gently nudged her with his elbow and asked. His arm rested behind her on the edge of the bed as he scanned her face. “I can hang out here for a bit if you need, we also have some contraband beer in the barracks I can bring up?”

“I’ll be fine,” Talia waved off. Fives looked at her doubtingly to which she replied, “I need to update the Council anyway.”

Fives frowned but nodded, pushing himself off the ground. He held out his hand to help her up, which she accepted. “Ok, but if you need me, you know where to find me.”

“You’re being awfully nice, what’s the catch?” Talia teased.

“You’re Rex’s girl, and vode look after each other,” Fives answered with a shrug. He then fixed her with a devilish smirk and continued, “Also, I’m hoping you’ll put in a good word with Zahara?”

“You’re hopeless,” Talia laughed. Fives maintained his grin as he paced out of the room, winking at her before the door closed behind him.

“We need to examine these dealings with Crimson Dawn in more detail,” Plo Koon’s holographic form spoke to Talia, his voice distorted. “For such a small organization, this level of disruption is unusual for them.”

“I agree; some of the logs pinpointed a club on Antium being a hub for them in this sector,” Talia answered the Jedi Master. She had poured over the logs in additional detail before contacting Master Plo, her eyes were burning from staring at the screens for so long and a lack of sleep, she was grateful that her form would appear blue on the screen so Plo wouldn’t see the redness in her eyes.

“You should set out at once then, see if we can find more information.”

“But sir, there’s still work to be done here,” Talia insisted quickly. She couldn’t leave now, there was still no sign of Rex, she had planned to check on her ships repairs as soon as this call was over so she could join the search. And Plo expected her to leave?

“A defense unit is being sent to upgrade the security of the systems. The 501st can oversee until they arrive, then they are being sent to Ringo Vinda to aide Masters Tiplee and Tiplar in their siege,” Master Plo informed her, ignoring the insistence in Talia’s voice.

Talia started to argue but held her tongue; what reason could she have to stay? The battle was over, and she had been working with the 501st for weeks, she was bound to be called to duty elsewhere soon. Just now, of all times…

“Is something on your mind? You seem distracted.” Even in her stress, Talia could manage a slight smile at Plo’s ability to read her even from that distance. Or maybe she was just not as good at hiding her emotions as she’d thought she was.

For a moment she looked at his masked form, trying to find the words to say; she knew she couldn’t say anything, but she knew she wanted to talk to him. Because everything was too much, and the weight of the day was weighing on her.

“Nothing, Master,” Talia said with a shake of her head. Master Plo lightly bowed his head at her as she bid him goodbye, signing off the communication. Talia plopped down in her chair, now back in her own quarters on the ship. She watched the black of space outside the viewport, speckled stars in her view as the Destroyer drifted. Her bed was neatly made; between longer campaigns of the deployment spent in tents or makeshift barracks and nights in Rex’s quarters, she wasn’t sure about the last time she had actually slept in it. She supposed she could try and rest, drag out a few extra hours of her time here, waiting for any bit of news. But she knew she wouldn’t catch a wink of sleep, she would just sit restlessly, watching out the viewport clinging to any bit of hope. And if the Council had given her an assignment to leave, she had little choice but to follow it, no matter how much she wanted to follow her own desires. It was frustrating, against everything in her gut to leave like this. She was torn between the part of her that had to do her duty, and the part of her that couldn’t bring herself to.

All she thought of was Rex. She knew he had to be out there, she was sure that if something had happened to him she would have felt it. But that didn’t assure her much either, because all she could wonder was if he was hurt, or if he would be found before something worse happened. A chill ran down her spine as she remembered that the 501st already had another mission scheduled; what if there was no sign of him before the defense units arrived? Would Rex be left here?

Talia bent over, resting her head in her hands. She knew Anakin wouldn’t leave him and R2 out there. For all her annoyance at her fellow Jedi today, she knew he wouldn’t abandon Rex. Not unless he was sure there was no hope.

And Rex. Fuck, Talia couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that he would tell her do her own duty, not sit around waiting for him. She could practically hear how he would say her name if he found out how she was sitting here, not sure of what to do. That semi exasperated yet consoling expression his face would wear. The way his eyes would melt into hers.

The ding of her comm jarred her from her pensive musings, her gut turning with worry. It was just a notification that her fighter’s repairs were finished, and was cleared for flight. If only she knew where to go.

Talia strode over to her fighter, tossing in the little knapsack of belongings she carried with her on deployments. Storm had sent her a message saying the 412th was awaiting her arrival for their jump to hyperspace. Talia just needed to figure out how long they would be waiting for her.

The usual sounds of the hangar work was slightly disrupted as a group of cheers broke out. Her eyes following the noise, Talia watched as a group of clones, a mixture of pilots and ground troops, circled around a dropship. The doors were open and Talia could make out Anakin’s figure, and as the crowd parted with more cheers she saw those familiar jaig eyes.

The moment seemed to freeze; all Talia wanted to do was run across the hangar, leap into his arms. She wanted to drag him to the medbay, fret over his scorched armor, all while screaming at him for how reckless he could be with the life that was the most precious thing to her. She wanted him to hold her back, for him to assure her that he was ok, that she was worrying for nothing.

But here they were, feet apart in the bustling hangar, clones milling about at their stations. The deck officer had approached and was informing Talia that her starfighter was prepped for takeoff, D3’s little figure already slotted inside. There could be no running reunion like she wanted, no chance to say goodbye in words, let alone physically.

Rex had pushed his way through the crowd, limping slightly and returning handshakes to Broadside and a few other pilots, and was now being talked at by Kix, taking a seat on a crate and tearing his helmet off. His face was lined with exhaustion, but unmarked. There was a fresh blaster burn on his leg that Kix was trying to examine only to be waved away. Rex fiddled with his helmet, trying to fix something, it seemed, when his gaze lifted to meet Talia, watching her as she sat in her fighter.

How could one glance convey so many words? I missed you. I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re ok.

I love you.

From this far Talia couldn’t make out the comforting brown of his eyes, but she could see the way his lips slightly quirked, all he could do in the way of reassurance. Kix was still talking to him, but Talia couldn’t help but smile when she recognized that Rex wouldn’t move off that crate until she was gone; he had taken to ‘escorting’ her to the hangar bay whenever she had to leave the ship. Always so insistent on seeing her up to the last possible moment, a gesture that fluttered her stomach, but she wouldn’t let it be at the expense of his medical care.

The deck officer’s voice urged her again, trying to get her to move on, rather than occupy a needed spot in the bustling hangar. This was the cost of their arrangement; sometimes verbal goodbyes couldn’t be afforded. It was frustrating, disappointing, and in some ways downright cruel. But there were too many risks that could come even from Talia just getting out of her fighter and walking up to Rex; if the wrong person saw the slightest hint that it was anything other than professional, it would be the end of everything.

So she sent her own small smile back, trying to express everything she felt in that simplest of gestures before she closed her cockpit and began take off. She would send him a message once she made it back to the 412th, and if they were lucky, he would be free to talk more. All she could do after that was hope the will of the Force would bring him somewhere safer next. But she knew in the case of war, that hope was beyond fantasy.

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You look up in the direction of the voice, ready to clear your throat and kick them out—

Of course.

Of course.

Walking toward you with measured steps is the last person you want to see… and the only one you want to talk to, although you won’t admit that. He’s just standing there, as stoic and handsome as ever, close enough that he can’t possibly miss the tears still wet on your cheeks. Fuck.

Did the universe decide you needed salt rubbed in your wound? That you deserve to be kicked while you’re down? That you’re not allowed a fucking break?

Apparently so.

“Are you okay?” Wolffe asks.

You wipe the tears from your eyes. “Fine.”

There’s no music playing anymore. The server droids are all shut off and charging. Only the empty bar’s stiff silence hangs between the two of you — and you both decide to break it at the same time.

“What happened?”

“What are you doing here?”

You just stare at each other. He’s been here for less than a minute, and already you’re facing off toe-to-toe. You’re not going to break first. Wolffe came into your bar — after he stayed to watch you flirt with that fucking asshole clone, and after he probably saw the guy storming away — so he has to tell you what the hell he’s doing here.

Wolffe clears his throat and shuffles his feet a little. “I was still outside,” he says. “I saw him leave, and… it felt wrong.”

Gods, you’re mortified. The one time you think that maybe you got back at him — that maybe he could feel even a sliver of what goes through your mind when you see him with someone else — and of course, it fails.

You shake your head, dropping your chin to your chest and staring at your hands. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Did he hurt you?” he asks, his voice quieter as he takes a step closer to the booth. Does he know which one this is? Does he know that you were sitting in this exact spot when he told you how much he wanted to kiss you? Does he know how that night changed everything for you?

“Did he hurt you?” Wolffe asks again when you don’t answer. He’s still walking toward you — slow, cautious steps, like he’s scared that he’ll spook you if he moves too quickly.

“No.”

Wolffe hesitates, but takes another step forward. “You’ve lied to me about that before.” His eyes dart up and down your body — not that there’s anything to see. Camo didn’t leave any marks on you — although you’re certain he would have if you’d given him the chance.

You swallow, trying to get your voice back to normal. You know he wants to hear you say it. And you need to get out of here before you break down, so you give in. “He didn’t hurt me.”

Wolffe doesn’t back off. He doesn’t move any closer, either. He just stands there, his eyes fixed on you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t see what business it is of yours,” you snap, although you can hear that there’s none of your usual heat in your words. “Don’t know why you’re still here, anyway.”

Wolffe frowns. “I told you.”

You scoff a little, gesturing to yourself. “Yeah, well, I’m fine, okay? I’m obviously fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” he says. As if he would know. As if he can just walk in here in his armour that’s practically too small for him, with his gravelly voice and that frown that’s so familiar it physically pains you.

The pain won’t go away until he’s gone, so you stand up and cross your arms. “Well, that’s none of your business anymore, is it?” you ask. “You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

His frown deepens. “What does that mean?”

Your chest tightens, but you can’t let him win. You can’t.

“It means I wouldn’t be surprised if there are still hickeys underneath your collar.”

His lips press into a thin line. For a split-second, he looks down at his boots, and you think you’ve won.

You should know it’s never that easy with Wolffe.

“So you’re watching me?” he asks, meeting your eyes again.

“No.”

“Then how would you know?”

“This is my bar. I have to keep an eye on things.”

It’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. Wolffe doesn’t care.

“So you’re keeping an eye on me, then?”

There’s not even the usual acid in his tone this time. No, he doesn’t even have to try to be cruel right now — it’s easy enough as it is.

But you can be cruel too.

“Hard not to when you try to fuck anything that moves.”

The frown returns. “Is that right?”

“You’re not subtle,” you shrug.

He blinks at you. You can practically see whatever confident mindset he had when he walked in here start to shift. His hands, which have been hanging at his sides until now, curl into fists. His tone shifts from steady to tight, like something’s pulling on his words.

“You think you know me so well, don’t you?” he asks.

You frown right back at him. Where did that come from?

“It’s easy,” you say, not sure where he’s going with this.

“Is it now?”

“Yep. You make out with whoever drops into your lap and you don’t give a shit about any of them. You just go through people as it suits you.”

On any other day, you could’ve hidden your bitterness better, but not today.

“Something wrong with that?”

“Did I say there was?”

“You didn’t have to,” he shoots back. You’re not the only bitter one now — his voice is as cold and strained as you’ve ever heard it.

…still, it feels good to even hear his voice at all.

Stop it.

“I know you well enough to know when you’re lying,” Wolffe continues. “When you’re upset.”

Your face and the back of your neck grow warm — but you can’t exactly pin down the feeling. It’s probably a few things — embarrassment and shame and regret… and a little bit of heartache.

“Do you now?”

“I do. So, what, are you jealous?”

“What?” Fuck. You blurt it out before you can even think through the accusation. “Of course not!”

Wolffe raises his eyebrows. “You sound pretty defensive.”

“Because it’s not true!” you lie. Were you that obvious? …yeah, you probably were.

“Then why are you so pissed off?” he asks. His voice grows harder with every question. It almost feels like an interrogation — a military commander trying to needle the truth out of you. Well, you can give him some of the truth.

“Because you’re so fucking frustrating!” you snap. “You come in here after everyone’s gone just to pick a fight—!”

“Oh, so I picked the fight?” Wolffe interrupts. His stony facade is starting to crack, and damn, it feels good. “I just came in here to check on you. You’re the one who insulted me and got all upset about it.”

“That’s not why I was upset.”

“You said I fuck anything that moves!”

“Well, it’s true!” you say, and you can’t quite keep your voice from wavering a little. “And you do it right in front of my fucking face!”

Wolffe’s eyes go dark — dangerous. He doesn’t keep yelling, or raise his voice, or do anything that you could handle. Instead, his voice drops, and it goes straight to your heart.

“You don’t get to do this,” he warns. Or threatens. You’re not really sure. “You don’t get to be pissed off that someone else wants to kiss me when you’re the one who told me to stay away from you. Especially because you never let me kiss you anyway.”

“You agreed to that!” You’ve absorbed all of the fire that Wolffe dropped out of his voice, emboldening you and bolstering your shields.

“So then why are you jealous?”

“I’m not!”

“Well, you’re upset about something.”

“I’m not.”

Wolffe breaks — giving in to the urge to meet your anger.

“You are!” he shouts, running a hand through his hair. “I just — I just don’t know what! You’re the one who told me you didn’t want me around anymore!”

“I said that I should stay away from you!” you shout right back.

“What’s the fucking difference?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know,” you say coldly.

You can’t tell if you’re getting closer to him, or if he’s getting closer to you — all you know is that the distance is narrowing. Like it always does with him. Like how, no matter how hard you try, there’s always something pulling you together.

Wolffe lets out a harsh laugh. “What is there to know? You told me I shouldn’t have been there that night, you wouldn’t let me help you when you were drunk, you—”

“Help me?” you ask incredulously. “Help me? You wouldn’t even touch me!”

“You were drunk,” he says firmly. “And as soon as I wouldn’t fuck you, you decided you were done with me.”

“I didn’t want to fuck!” you cry. “I just wanted you to hold me for once!”

If you thought it was quiet in the bar before, the silence is damn near deafening now. Your heart drops to your stomach, shocked at the words that just came from your mouth. You didn’t mean to say it, you just — you just got so caught up in everything, and it just… it just broke through.

For his part, Wolffe doesn’t spit something right back at you. Good. Maybe he feels bad now that he has to face his actions.

Or not.

“Well, you had a funny way of showing it, getting drunk with some other clone.” There’s still bitterness in his voice from earlier, but it’s more… subdued. “Why didn’t you ask them to hold you?”

Wh— is he talking about Radar? About how you were comforting each other?

“Seriously?” you bite out.

“You two seemed pretty fucking close.”

You shake your head. You can’t even look at him right now. “I’m not going to feel bad for drinking with Radar when zher brother, one of my best friends, just fucking died!”

Wolffe’s mouth opens to respond, but nothing comes out — or he thought better of it. He just stands there, lips parted, looking like he’s just been shot. Good. Let him hurt. Let him hurt like he hurt you.

After a moment, he finds his voice. “...I didn’t know that.”

“Oh, come on,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“You didn’t give me a chance!” you shoot back. “Why else would I get drunk at work? You say you know me, so what is it? You either know me, or you just don’t fucking care.”

It’s like a switch flips in Wolffe’s eyes. He takes a deliberate step toward you, his lost intensity rising again.

“Don’t you dare say that,” he warns. “Don’t you dare say I don’t care about you.”

“You’ve got a real funny way of showing it. You show up to fuck people right in front of me—!”

“You want to know why I keep showing up?” he cuts you off, taking two steps toward you — close enough for you to see the tension in every muscle of his neck.

“Try me,” you spit out.

“Because I can’t fucking stay away.”

He… what?

It’s your turn to be speechless. Wolffe takes it as his chance to keep going — or maybe he just can’t stop himself now. He gestures to the door, not taking his eyes off of you.

“That clone back there? You really think that dumbass noticed when you were getting harassed earlier tonight? You think he would’ve stepped in on his own? Of course not. I noticed.”

You’re shaking your head slightly, too confused to form any words. You thought it had been Wolffe, but… but it wasn’t. How…?

“But you told me to stay away,” he continues, “that you didn’t want me around. So I just grabbed him and told him exactly what to say. You think anyone else would’ve asked if you were the owner? No, they would’ve just pulled the other guy off of you.”

Wolffe bites his bottom lip, shaking his head, completely unaware of his voice growing louder. “But not me. Because I know you.”

“So that makes it okay?” you ask. “That makes it okay for you to go off and fuck other girls?”

Your head is pounding, trying to process everything. Yes, okay, he made Camo step in — but that doesn’t make up for the rest of your pain.

“If you didn’t want me around, then why do you even care?” he demands. “And just for your information, I didn’t sleep with any of them! I haven’t fucked anyone else since — since that first night with you.”

Partway through his sentence, Wolffe seemed to realize what he was saying. He didn’t back away from it, but he sure as hell backed down — his voice going a little quieter, his eyes going a little wider in shock.

What’s that supposed to mean?

It can’t mean… that.

Is he telling the truth? You saw that woman all over him. They left together — or… at least they left around the same time. And, other than whatever the hell was going on during the speed dating night, you haven’t seen him with anyone else. That’s not to say that he couldn’t have hooked up with someone on a night you weren’t there — but then again, Raia said he left when she told him you weren’t coming. He didn’t try to hook up with someone else, he just straight-up left.

All in all… you don’t know if you believe him or not. Even though he seems like he’s telling the truth — like his inner thoughts just slipped out — your head is swimming so much that you’re not sure what to trust.

“...Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. It doesn’t come from your heart. You say the words, but there’s no trace of bite, of snark, of sarcasm. It’s not completely genuine, either. It’s just… sad.

Wolffe breaks eye contact, choosing instead to look around the room.

“I don’t know,” he says. The fire is gone from his voice too. “I don’t know what you want anymore.”

Almost automatically, you start: “I told you to stay—”

“That’s what you told me,” Wolffe cuts in — but you weren’t really firm in your statement anyway. “But is that what you want?”

No.

Of course it’s not. But how the hell can you go back to what the two of you had? Everything that’s happened, all the feelings that have been coursing through your veins… how can you go back just like it’s nothing?

Or is that even what he’s suggesting?

“Look at me.”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d looked away from him. And you hadn’t really — your eyes were on him, you just weren’t really seeing him. Your gaze was lightyears away, and it’s not easy to pull it back — but you do.

This isn’t the face of a man that’s lying to you.

He takes one slow, tentative step forward. He’s still not in reach… but he’s getting close.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that’s really what you want.”

“Say it to my face then.”

That’s what he said the morning after everything fell apart — when you told him to stay away from you. And now… he’s asking for the same thing. To tell him that you were being honest when you said you wanted him to stay away. But this time… this time, it’s not so easy.

This is dangerous. What he’s asking you… this is no small thing. Admitting the truth would be opening yourself up to getting hurt again — and even worse this time. Could you handle it?

Your heartbreak isn’t simple. It’s not a straightforward question and a flat-out rejection. It’s more than just whether or not you have feelings for him, whether or not you want to have him again — because of course you do. But what if it all blows up in your face? What if it just happens again?

You’re being pulled in so many directions it’s starting to make you dizzy. It doesn’t help that Wolffe takes another step toward you — that he could reach out and brush your shoulder if he wanted to. It definitely doesn’t help when he speaks a single word in a far too gentle voice.

“Cyar’ika…”

Now that’s just unfair.

“You don’t get to call me that right now,” you say quietly, “whatever it means.”

Wolffe lets out a long, slow breath. You watch as he bites the inside of his bottom lip, scanning your eyes for something unknowable.

“Sweetheart…”

“Seriously?”

Where the fuck did that come from? After all this time — after all these months, he decides to call you that? Why the hell would he think that you’d want him to say that? Frustration swells up again, and suddenly you’re wondering whether or not he’s just played you like a fool — that he almost made you actually believe…

You take a step back. Your thoughts must be written all over your face, because Wolffe looks guilty. His shoulders slump, his head bows slightly, and he rubs at the back of his neck like he does when he’s nervous. When he speaks, the sound almost gets swallowed up by the silence before it reaches your ears.

Almost.

“Cyar’ika means ‘sweetheart.’”

It…

He…

“What?”

Wolffe hooks his thumbs in his belt, but otherwise, his posture doesn’t change.

“It’s Mando’a,” he adds quietly.

Mando’a. Mandalore isn’t part of the Republic — which is why you couldn’t find it on the holonet. But how does he know…?

Every feeling you’ve had over the past few weeks surges up inside you at once — anger, heartbreak, frustration, confusion, love — all of it binds together and forces out a single question.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Wolffe’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “You wanted to know what it meant.”

You can’t stand still anymore. You start pacing, willing your brain to process everything just a little faster. “No, I mean why did you call me that in the first place? To rub it in?”

“Rub what in?”

“I don’t know!” you say, waving your hands exasperatedly. “That — that I told you to stop calling me that, and you were just being a dick about it! Or that — ugh.”

“Or that what?” He hasn’t moved, letting you have your space instead — but he keeps facing you, like he’s ready to step in at a moment’s notice.

“Nevermind.”

“Tell me.”

It doesn’t sound like a demand. When you steal a glimpse at Wolffe, you find that reflected in his face. He’s not being stern right now. This isn’t Commander Wolffe. This is just… Wolffe. And he’s demanding, but he’s not exactly asking, either… It’s almost like a plea.

You stop pacing. Reaching up with both hands to rub your temples, you debate whether or not you should say it — and if you do, how you should word it. This night has become an absolute shitshow.

Well, if you’re not coming back from this anyway…

“Because that’s what you call all of your hookups,” you say, biting back any emotion that threatens to seep into your words. “And that’s what I was. Just another hookup.”

Wolffe shifts his weight uneasily, but his voice is steady. “You weren’t.”

“I know, our arrangement...”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I — I don’t know what you’re saying!” you say, frustration boiling over again. Fuck, you don’t understand any of this. “We agreed — you made me agree that this was nothing but sex!”

There’s no hiding the hurt this time. You can’t — not with the familiar sensation of tears welling in your eyes. Everything you’ve been trying to convince yourself of, to sort out, to navigate without talking about it — it’s all just coming to a head.

And, of course, Wolffe sees. You refuse to look away. He’s entwined in all of this — he deserves to see your pain.

“That’s not what I want anymore,” he says, his voice regaining a little of its usual confidence.

You set your chin. “Good, because—”

“I want more.”

He takes another step forward as he says it. He’s close enough now that it’s almost painful. You’re not sure if you can actually smell his soapy, sweaty, carbon-smoked skin or if you’re just imagining it. But you’re definitely not imagining the look in his eyes — soft but serious, focused but gentle. His lips are parted slightly, as if there are more words on the tip of his tongue. But Wolffe… he doesn’t do this. Especially not with you.

He wants more… more than what you had before. More than just sex. All of the conclusions that your firmly guarded heart had come to — that this wasn’t possible — start to melt away. That brief glimmer of hope that you had, that maybe, just maybe Wolffe felt the same way you did… it shines in your mind’s eye. Wolffe wanting more… Wolffe wanting you the same way you want him… it’s all that you’ve hoped for in your quietest, most desperate moments.

Which is why you can’t accept it.

“Don’t,” you whisper, a tear from each eye streaming down your cheeks.

Wolffe doesn’t frown, but his expression clouds a little. “What?”

“You can’t just — just say things like that if they’re not true.”

“It is true.”

“No, it’s not!” Your voice goes a little shrill, but it’s not loud. It’s not enough to keep him from taking another step forward. It’s not enough to move you away from him. It’s almost like you’re frozen to the spot as he slowly inches closer.

“You’re — you fuck around, that’s what you do!” you continue. “It’s what you’ve done since you first stepped foot in this place.”

“That’s what I used to do,” Wolffe corrects evenly. There’s pain in his voice, but he talks right through it. “I can’t anymore. Okay? I can’t do it. I tried, and I couldn’t fucking stand it, because it wasn’t — it wasn’t you.”

And there it is again — that little voice in the back of your head, whispering that he’s telling the truth. Despite how your heart is throwing up its walls, refusing to let itself be crushed again, your mind is saying otherwise.

“I couldn’t touch any of them,” he says. “I didn’t want to. Trust me, cya— just trust me. Since that first night, I haven’t slept with anyone else.”

He cuts himself off from saying that word — cyar’ika, sweetheart, whatever — and part of you wishes he would’ve said it. Because you do believe him. You don't have a clue what it means, but you believe him. You want to believe him.

Wolffe tilts his head a little. When you don’t say anything, he asks: “...Have you?”

“Once,” you whisper. You look at his armour when you say it, unable to meet his eyes while the memory of that night plays back in your mind. “The day after… after that first time. I… I wanted proof that it could’ve been anyone.”

You don’t need to describe what you mean — Wolffe knows. He knows about the raw electric feeling the two of you gave into that night, how it took both of you by surprise and didn’t let go until the tension broke. And you’d thought you could find it with someone else — with anyone else.

Wolffe pauses, giving you the chance to continue, but that’s all you can say. That’s all he needs to hear.

“And?” he asks quietly.

You just shake your head. Of course it wasn’t the same — not even close. After so many times with Wolffe, you both knew it wasn’t possible to get that same feeling, that same chemistry with anyone but each other.

His armour gets closer. Leather-covered fingers brush your knuckles.

“I don’t want whatever we were doing before,” he murmurs.

He dares to hook his fingers around just one of yours, loosely and tenderly. You look up just in time to see his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallows.

“I want more,” he says, repeating himself from earlier. “I want — I want to spend time with you. And listen to you talk. I want…” He takes a shallow breath, closing his eyes for a second. “...to mean something to you.”

You do, you think, but the words don’t make it out. They catch in your chest, right at your heart, and stick there.

Wolffe wants you. Whatever happened last time, he’s saying it doesn’t matter. He’s standing here, saying the words you only could have hoped for in your wildest dreams.

You haven’t moved a muscle when he opens his eyes again, looking down at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. He tries to read your face — and honestly, you have no clue what he’ll find.

“And,” he says, “...I really, really want to kiss you.”

Fuck. Fuck, you want him to kiss you. He’s getting closer, almost close enough for you to feel the puff of air from his long exhale.

But of course he doesn’t. Not yet.

“What do you want?”

It’s a good question. And you have no clue how to answer it. Your mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words, but your throat is dry and your head is swimming and he’s so close and it’s so intoxicating—

Wolffe takes a half-step backwards. “If you don’t…” He clears his throat. “If I’m reading this wrong…”

His fingers start to slip away from yours as he pulls back even more, but you grab his wrist before he can go too far.

“You’re… you’re not,” you manage to say.

Wolffe blinks a few times, unmoving. You swear there’s the slightest possible twitch at the corner of his lip, but then he’s taking a deep breath and you’re not sure if you saw it at all. He takes the half-step forward, just as close to you as he was before.

Your heart is pounding so hard that you’re sure he can hear it. He can probably feel your pulse through his gloves, honestly. And it’s too much — the emotion, the feel of his touch, the sight of him and the heat coming off of him — so you close your eyes.

“Okay,” Wolffe says quietly. “Okay. But I need… I need you to say it.”

Of course he does.

It almost makes you laugh, but then he’s lifting your chin with his free hand, his knuckle guiding your face up.

“Look at me,” he murmurs. Again… it’s not a question. It’s not a demand. It’s a plea.

You open your eyes, and all you see is pain.

Not yours — although it sort of is. When you let yourself look at Wolffe, you look right at his cybernetic eye and the scar running down his face. You always notice it, of course — it’s hard not to. But something about this time… about what he’s asking of you… it brings you back to a time before he had this eye. Before you even knew he had this scar. To when the Wolfpack showed up without him, looking like someone had died. You feel everything you did that night: the chill on your neck, the nerves frozen in your chest, the stabbing pain in your stomach, your shaking fingers…

And you hadn’t even loved him then.

“I want it too,” you whisper. Then, before he has a chance to respond: “But… I can’t.”

You step away, letting his hand fall away.

On your second step back, his eyes are closed.

On your third step back, they’re fixed on you again.

“Is it the eye?” he asks, the gravel in his voice rougher than usual.

“Wh-what?”

Wolffe runs a hand through his hair, the curls puffing out a little more. You can practically see the frustration return to his body as he tenses, as he rubs a hand over his eyes, as his lips quirk in a joyless smile. Except it’s not quite frustration. You don’t know what it is… just that he’s upset.

“You did this last time too,” he says. “You looked at my eye and decided you were out. You told me to stay away.”

Oh no.

“It’s not like that,” you try to assure him, but he’s too worked up to take you at your word.

“What, does it bother you? Is it too ugly for you?”

“No—!”

“Is that the only thing?” he presses on. “Would you have said yes if I looked like one of my brothers?”

“Wolffe—”

“It’s just a fucking scar!” He’s practically shouting now, but it’s not really at you. It’s like he’s shouting at the world, and you’re just there to watch. “Is it that terrible to look at?”

“No!”

“Then why?”

“Because you got hurt!” you cry out.

Wolffe freezes, but it’s your turn to let your emotions out now.

“Because every time I look at you, I remember the night you came in with bandages all over your face. I thought — the guys looked so upset, and you weren’t with them, and I didn’t know—”

You break off to clear your throat, but don’t give him a chance to cut in.

“I was sick to my stomach thinking about it! And — and then you came in, and — the bandages, and — you were hurt, Wolffe! You were acting so different and you were hurt!”

The tears start flowing freely now, but you don’t care.

“And you could just get hurt again! And it could be so much worse — and… what if you never come back?” You finally look at him again, a little blurry through teary eyes, but at least he doesn’t look angry anymore.

You look down, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around yourself. “Of course I want you, Wolffe. I’ve wanted you for so long. And I don’t — I don’t fucking care about the eye. I care about you. The eye, the scar… it’s just a reminder that even if I want to, I… I can’t really have you.”

Knowing it was one thing. Saying it out loud… It’s something else entirely. It’s all-encompassing and debilitating, making your legs start to shake and your breaths come out in choked gasps. You haven’t cried like this in so, so long — but thinking about Wolffe’s body, strewn on a battlefield or buried in rubble or floating in space or something even worse than anything you could possibly imagine — oh, that does you in.

You almost forget that Wolffe is just a few steps away until he closes the gap again, standing not quite directly in front of you. You try to shake your head, to tell him you don’t want to hear it…

“Hey,” he says softly, his arms gently taking you by the shoulders. “C’mere.”

You’re not sure if he pulls you in or if you lean into him, but it doesn’t matter. There are two pairs of arms holding you now: your own, shaking and unsteady; and Wolffe’s, tucking you securelyinto his chest.

It’s so unfair that he should be trying to console you when you’re crying over him. It’s just… you finally let the full thought come to the surface. You spoke the fear and it didn’t leave — it just overtook you. And even then — even when you told him you can’t do this, when you screamed about how much his injury hurt you — he’s here. Not asking for anything. Not trying to get anything out of it. He’s just… here.

Wolffe holds you only as closely as you want to go — he doesn’t squeeze you, and when you shift a little, he loosens his embrace until you’re still again. Other than that, he just… waits. You’re not sure how long it is that you’re pressed up against his plastoid, waiting for your breathing to even out. All you know is that when you do pull away, Wolffe lets you.

His hand reaches for your tear-streaked face, but jerks back. You can tell how badly he wants to touch you, but he can’t decide if he should or where or if you’d rather just him step back again.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, covering your face with your hands and brushing off the tears.

Wolffe’s voice is equally soft. “It’s okay.”

When the two of you meet each other’s eyes, there’s no certainty. Even though you both just revealed how deeply you care about the other, there’s still no solid ground. And what is there to say? Neither of you can change your feelings. Wolffe can’t change the danger he’s in, the life he leads.

You’re still caught in that infinite loop, fumbling for words you’re not sure even exist, when Wolffe hesitantly nudges your fingers again. You fall back into the same position as before — your finger loosely but purposefully held in his hand. You’re not really looking at each other, but you’re not looking at the ground either. Your heads are both bowed, slightly enough so you can see each other’s face in your periphery, but too much to meet each other’s eyes.

When he speaks, there’s a sadness in his words. “You know I’m not going to stand here and try to convince you. Not if this isn’t what you want.”

“It is what I want,” you say, voice still raspy from crying. “I just… I’m just scared.”

He opens his mouth, and there’s the smallest sound of him starting to speak, but he thinks better of it. His thumb starts stroking up and down the side of your finger, and you wish… you just wish…

You wish it could be different.

“You can’t promise me anything,” you say. “I know you can’t. If… if we… and you don’t come back… I couldn’t handle it.”

Your voice breaks on the last few words, and Wolffe’s fingers tighten around yours.

He raises his head a little. Even if you didn’t see the movement, you’d know: you can feel his gaze on you, like you’ve always been able to.

“Could you take it now?”

It’s barely a whisper.

When you look up at him, the question must already be clear in your eyes.

“If we stop this here,” Wolffe murmurs, “...If I leave tonight and never come back… would it be any different? Would it… would it hurt any less?” His lips press into a line for a fraction of a second. “Because I’ll tell you right now: if you ask me to leave, and if I never see you again, it’ll still fucking ruin me.”

How can your heart feel like it’s sinking and floating at the same time?

You close your eyes and nudge your hand closer to Wolffe’s. He… he has a point. It’s not exactly a comforting one, since in both hypothetical scenarios, you never see him again. And… you guess that’s the point, isn’t it? If he’s right, you’re just denying the two of you any chance to be happy with each other, even just for a little bit.

You blink your eyes open.

“Wolffe…”

“Cyar’ika…”

And this time, you feel the full weight of the word. But it doesn’t weigh you down — instead, it makes you feel a little lighter.

Wolffe exhales again, long and slow, like he’s trying to either calm himself down or hold himself up. Whatever it is… you need to look at him. You need to see him when he says this.

There’s so much written on his face, all subtleties and hints of what’s going on in his mind. Pain in his eyes. Worry in his brow. Nervousness on his lips. And you look straight at it all, ready for whatever he’s thinking.

“It’s up to you,” he says. “If you want me, I’m yours…” He chuckles to himself. “Hell, even if you don’t want me, I’m still yours. But it has to be up to you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“By what?”

It’s your turn to brace yourself a little. Breathe in, breathe out.

“You say you’re… that you’re ‘mine,’ but… what does that mean?”

Wolffe blinks down at you, opening his mouth and then closing it again.

“I don’t know,” he admits with a half-smile. “This is new to me. I…”

There’s something else he wants to say. You can hear it in his pauses, in his carefully chosen words.

“All I know… is that I don’t want anyone or anything else. I’m done pretending that I feel anything less for you than what I do. And if… if that’s too much… I’m not expecting…”

He closes his eyes, gathering his thoughts again. After a breath, he raises his free hand, and you think he’s going to rest it on your cheek. You’re so sure of it that you tilt your head a little, anticipating his touch… but he doesn’t.

Instead, Wolffe tenderly trails his thumb along the most sensitive part of your neck. It sends chills down your spine and memories flashing into your mind, but none of that matters. Not with what he says next.

“I would meet you where you’re at,” he says. “But I need you to know that I’m too far in to want anything less than everything you want to give me.”

Wolffe looks from one eye to the other, from your lips to your brow to your cheeks, looking for whatever scraps of truth he can find. He’s used to this — to having to piece together your thoughts and feelings from the subtle hints on your face. But with what he’s just told you — that he wants everything you want to give him — Wolffe has left behind everything unspoken in favour of laying his truths bare in front of you. He’s standing in front of you, waiting for you to take whatever fruit that pleases you and leave the rest to rot.

He doesn’t realize that you’re as greedy as he is giving.

And though words fail you right now, you don’t need them. With one simple action, you can show him how much you want to give — louder and more clearly than anything you could possibly say.

With shaky breath, you raise your hand to his face. Wolffe closes his eyes when your palm gently touches his cheek, as your thumb traces the bottom half of his scar. You don’t know if he feels you leaning in, or hears your heart pound, or feels the nerves reaching from your fingers to your toes. But you do hear a small intake of breath when your lips are just centimetres away from his.

You kiss him.

You’ve felt Wolffe’s lips before. They’ve kissed your inner thighs, closed around your clit, and framed the places he left bite marks. You always knew he’d feel like heaven against your lips, but this… this is something else.

This is you finally, finally feeling the warmth of his body in the way you’ve always wanted to. His lips are soft against yours, a little chapped but warm on your skin and kissing you back ever so softly. With one hand held by his own and the other resting on his cheek, you can’t help but pull him in a little — or maybe he just can’t help himself. It doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters. You’re kissing Wolffe. After months of pulling away and locking up your true desires, you’re completely and fully giving in, showing him that with this previously forbidden action, you’ll give him everything too.

Neither of you move much at first. It’s almost like the subtlest shift could break this moment into pieces, could wreck the spell that’s come over you. You just stand there, pressing slow, gentle kisses against Wolffe’s lips, as his hand fully intertwines with yours.

How can you miss something you’ve never had? How could you feel so strongly like you missed kissing Wolffe even though this is the first time?

Closer, your heart whispers.

Closer, your skin yearns.

Closer, your lips ask as they part against Wolffe’s.

He pulls you in by your hands as you pull him down by his cheek, deepening the kiss enough that a soft, happy sound hums from your heart to where your lips are connected. Wolffe must like what he hears — feels — judging by how you feel his soft lips stretch into a small smile.

You can’t help smiling back.

It’s not even a kiss anymore — just two people smiling against each other. When Wolffe rests his forehead against your own, there’s a sliver of space between his mouth and yours. You don’t want him to pull away. You don’t want this to end — not yet. You want to chase his mouth with yours until you’re both out of breath, until you’ve made up for all the lost kisses and lost time.

But not yet.

“You want everything I’ll give you?” you ask softly, your lips almost brushing his.

“Everything.”

Your smile widens.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Wolffe pulls back just far enough for his eyes to focus on yours. He looks at you with a mix of confusion and delight, his expression clearing only when you bite your lip to stop a laugh from escaping. His breath comes out in a low chuckle, shaking his head in a familiar display of disbelief. He looks so beautiful like this — the worry gone from his brow, nothing stony about his voice or his features. You lean in again, craving his lips against yours now that you’ve barely gotten a taste, but Wolffe stops you by pressing his forehead against yours again.

“If we keep going,” he murmurs, “I can’t promise that I’ll ever stop.”

You can’t see each other’s eyes like this, but you know the look on his face anyway. It’s the same one he gave you on the night he found out that you were hurt; as he drunkenly held your hand; when he looked up at you and made you play his guessing game while you were literally stuffed with his cock. You recognize it now. You recognize it as something more than fondness, than joy, than contentment.

You take a deep, slow breath.

“Good.”

Wolffe laughs quietly, but you hardly even register it. Now that you’ve granted him this permission — this unlimited trust and desire — he doesn’t wait another second.

Wolffe takes your face in both of his hands and kisses you.

The energy shifts the moment his lips touch yours. Everything that’s ever been between you — from the irritation to the shock, from the desperation to the desire — every word of your arguments and every confessed feeling — it’s all in this kiss.

He kisses you like the only air he can possibly breathe comes only from your lungs. The first is long, lingering, and utterly intoxicating. And even when your lips break apart for that split second, as soon as they reconnect, it’s everything. It’s your hands flung around his neck, trying to keep him as close as possible — although you have nothing to worry about. It’s a kiss more tender than you could ever think possible while still rife with passion: lips overlapping and slotting together, sharp and shallow breaths, hands only leaving your face to slide against your scalp and pull you in impossibly closer.

Your body is pressed up against his, the plastoid smudging dirt on your clothes and digging into your skin but you hardly even notice. Wolffe could sweep you off your feet like this, spin you around until your toes couldn’t touch the floor and you might not even notice. There’s just his kiss: his tongue sliding into your mouth, the way his bottom lip feels at home when you’re grazing your teeth over it, and the rhythmic movements as both of your bodies devote themselves entirely to this moment.

You’re past the point of thinking. You’ve done nothing but think for the past month, and even before that, your times with Wolffe were always shadowed by caution and overthinking and trying to keep things hidden. Now, alone in the bar doing something you swore you’d never do, all thoughts go out the window.

Fuck, you’ve wanted this. You’ve wanted his kiss, wanted to swallow his desire for you as you pressed yourself flush against him. He weaves his fingers through your hair, resting against your scalp as he tilts your head. He kisses you more, harder, desperate and greedy for anything you’ll give him — and you’ll give him anything he wants now.

You take his bottom lip between yours again, dragging your teeth over his skin. But when his grip on you tightens, you don’t hesitate — you bite down gently, pulling his lip toward you and coaxing the most gorgeous moan you’ve ever heard.

Your teeth clack together — you don’t care. You step on his foot — he doesn’t care. His armour rubs against your clothes and you accidentally unclip part of his chest plate and your noses smush together once in a while, but neither of you care. You love it. You love every single part of it, because it’s him.

“I missed you,” you mumble against his lips. One of his hands leaves your face to take you by the hip, walking you backwards to the nearest booth.

“Missed you too,” he says, lifting you onto the table. Your legs instantly wrap around his waist, plastoid biting against your inner thighs and you couldn’t care less.

He’s the first to move away from your lips. His kisses trail along your jaw, down the most sensitive column of your neck, open-mouthed and wet and completely unfair.

You get a hold of yourself long enough to shift your head, your lips landing on Wolffe’s neck to finally taste his skin. And fuck, you understand exactly what Wolffe meant when he said he’d never stop kissing you. The warm, slightly salty taste of his skin completely overwhelms you — he’s going to have to pull you off of him if he ever wants to be free of your lips. You can’t get enough — not of his neck, the shell of his ear, his jaw, his throat, any of him.

His hands run over every part of you as you learn which spots make him sigh with pleasure. They run over your ass, pulling you even closer until you’re flush against his waist. They caress up and down your sides, your arms, your thighs, and you know that he’s aching to feel your skin. But it’s when you bite down on his earlobe, just barely hard enough to sting, that he captures your mouth with his again.

Honestly, it seems like he might just take you here and now on this table — and you’re not sure you’d mind. But after everything — the confusion and the heartbreak and the rushed nights tangled on your office couch — you can finally allow yourself to want more. To have more.

You pull away from him, resting your forehead against his like he did with you before. Wolffe was right, though — he doesn’t seem to be able to stop kissing you. As you pant into each other’s mouths, he keeps pulling you in — just one more kiss, just one more taste, just a little more, please, please, please. It makes you giggle, which he just swallows up in another kiss.

Finally, you’re able to nudge his shoulder enough that he lets you both catch your breath. You don’t want to separate even an inch, but you’ll sacrifice a moment’s kiss for this.

You stroke the side of Wolffe’s face with two knuckles, relishing in how he leans into your touch. His eyes, brown and blue and gorgeous, mesmerize you long enough that you can’t get a word out before he beats you to it, a sly smirk on his lips.

“I thought you’d be a better kisser.”

He takes advantage of your mouth dropping open to kiss you again, reluctantly leaning back when you swat at his chest.

“Forgive me,” you laugh. “I’m out of practice. Asshole.”

Wolffe grins, and for once, the smile reaches every corner of his face. “I can help with that.”

“Good,” you say, rolling your eyes as he leans in to kiss you again. You turn your face, but he doesn’t seem to mind that his lips land on your cheek. They just keep going, trailing down your face, your throat, your chest…

“But not here,” you say, snapping out of his distraction. Wolffe looks up at you, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“When do you leave again?” you ask.

“What, trying to get rid of me already?”

“Not quite,” you grin, dropping your eyes to his neck, imagining what it’ll look like after you’re done with him. “I just thought… if you had time, we could go somewhere else.”

He pauses for a second, and your next words come out awkwardly. “My place, I mean. A real bed. And you could maybe stay the night — if you wanted.”

“I have a few things to do tomorrow—”

“That’s okay, we don’t have to—”

“—but not until the afternoon.”

You dare to meet his eyes again, seeing all of your desire and relief and excitement mirrored back at you.

“Okay,” you smile. Before anything else, you pull him into another kiss — not romantic, not sensual, not anything but happy. You can feel his deep chuckle against your lips as he slides his hands under your thighs and hoists you off the table, carrying you to—

…the front of the bar?

“Wolffe,” you start, ready to explain how you still need to lock up the cache and grab your things, but he cuts you off.

“You forgot to lock this,” he says, pressing the keypad by the front door with an extremely self-satisfied look.

You roll your eyes at him, but can’t keep the smile off your face. “Shut up.”

“Gladly.”

And then his lips are on yours again.

It takes another twenty minutes before you finally leave the bar.

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A/N: how are we doing? do we need some water? a few deep breaths? tissues? heheheh anyway, i'm super excited to hear your thoughts/feelings/incoherent emotions about this chapter <3

IMPORTANT NOTE:

i cannot keep posting weekly. life is getting extremely stressful and overwhelming (the LEAST of which is a last-minute move to a different city) and i can't commit to regular updates. i will of course be working on this fic since i love it so much, and i ask that you please don't send me questions about when the next update will be. i don't know the answer, and those questions usually do more harm than good re: my headspace about writing.

as always, thank you so so much for your support, and i can't wait to hear what you think!!!

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