#bigbrojango

The lights flicker on, indicating the start of the day cycle at home. Jaster sets a bowl of porridge in front of his young charge. He’s exhausted. He’d naively expected the kid to sleep peacefully. Instead, he’d been woken by screams and awful retching hours before sunrise over Sundari.

Obi-Wan’s eyes are red, but his face is clean now and he’s wearing vomit free clothes. He huddles into himself, holding his spoon loosely in frail fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters miserably, not for the first time.

Jaster holds back a sigh, “You have nothing to be sorry for. Cleaning up vomit is hardly the worst thing I’ve ever done. I’m sorry your sleep was interrupted. It’s okay to have nightmares, Obi-Wan, especially after what you’ve been through.”

He shrugs, keeping his eyes on his food, “Do… do you still want me? I- I mean, do you still want to take me home with you?”

Jaster picks up his own bowl, and settles across from Obi-Wan, “Of course I still want to take you home with me, if that’s what you want. Nothing will change that.”

“Okay,” Obi-Wan hums.

“Okay?”

He nods, “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

“Alright,” Jaster smiles, “Now eat your porridge.”

¬

Jango has no idea what his buir is thinking. A kid? Now? In the middle of all this bullshit with the clans, he’s decided to adopt a kid? Okay, so he hasn’t actually adopted the kid yet but Jango knows his buir. It’s only a matter of time.

Nevertheless, he does as he’s told. He makes up the room next to his buir’s and across the passage from his own. His buir couldn’t ever tell him how old the kid was. All Jango knows about his new baby brother is that he was a slave and a Jedi. And that he’s tiny. Not a lot to go on.

Myles laughs as Jango huffs again, “Why has this got you so riled up? You know Jaster was never going to stop with one ad.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jango scowls, “But a Jedi? Really?”

“He’s not a Jedi anymore,” Myles points out, throwing the kid’s new pillow onto the bed, “Are you… jealous?”

Jango glares at him, “Shut the fuck up.”

“You are,” he laughs delightedly, “You’re jealous! The poor kid.”

Jango rolls his eyes, “I’m still going to be nice to him, di’kut.”

“He’s a Jedi, he’ll be able to feel your emotions,” Myles points out, “Unless you never remove your helmet in front of him, but that would send the same message.”

“They can’t actually do that, can they?” he frowns, “Isn’t that a myth? It doesn’t matter, I’ll get over it before they even arrive. Besides, maybe the kid will decide he wants to go back to the Jedi.”

Myles sighs, “I doubt it. He ended up a slave somehow, and I’ll bet the Jetti had something to do with it.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” Jango says and Myles rolls his eyes.

It’s doubtful the Jedi would let one of their children be sold into slavery, but Myles is right in saying the kid ended up there somehow. And it’s probably not a pretty tale.

¬

Jaster thought Jango had bad nightmares when he adopted him, but Obi-Wan is giving that hellish week a run for its money. The nightmares won’t leave the kid alone. Jaster wonders if he’s gotten a single hour of restful sleep since he picked him up. He certainly didn’t get any before then.

Jaster sleeps on the floor outside his door, until the first cries of the night reach him. Sometimes it takes up to an hour, sometimes only minutes. 

He might be grumpy about the lack of sleep if it didn’t seem like the kid was getting even less than him. While Jaster can knock out for an hour or two during the day, even when he manages to sleep Obi-Wan’s rest is fitful. He tosses and turns, and wrenches himself out of sleep with retching and cries of fear.

During the day, he’s polite and quiet, hovers about afraid to disturb Jaster. At night, he’s terrified. It breaks Jaster’s heart, but there’s nothing he can do about it except what he’s already doing.

Despite the challenges, though, Jaster already loves Obi-Wan. He’s a serious child, but clever and insightful. The ferocity he displayed in the mines is still there, but he’s gentle too. 

Jaster catches him talking to the translator droid he keeps on board, and following the cleaning droid around the ship. When he helps Jaster cook, he does so with grace and determination. He handles the food like it’s precious, and he flourishes under the praise Jaster makes sure to give him.

It’s only been eight days, but already he has a bit more meat on his bones. 

¬

“We’ll be there in four hours,” Jaster reports, “Have you got a room ready?”

“Yes buir,” Jango rolls his eyes, glad his buir can’t see him, “How’s he doing?”

His buir sighs heavily, and Jango can hear the exhaustion in his voice, “He’s… improving. Have you put the monitor in his room?”

“Elek,” Jango says, leaning against the wall of said room, “And the receiver in yours. Are you sure about this, buir?”