#bullheaded

The man sneered. Cain rolled their shoulders back, letting out a slow breath as they glared. The tavern around them had gone quiet to watch. 

“Walk away, kid,” someone in the crowd called in warning. Cain paid them absolutely no mind. The man swung again, and they ducked around, jabbing a sharp kick straight to the kidney. He grunted and snarled, and when he came around again there was a knife in his hand, curved, with a sharp crescent curl at the end, like a hook. It looked like it was probably for a more utilitarian purpose than fighting, but it was wickedly sharp nonetheless. Cain’s own vibro was in their hand a moment later. He came at them fast, and they dodged again, aiming a low kick to his knee. He took the hit but didn’t go down, instead coming around towards them. He struck with the knife, and struck again. They blocked, taking a shot of their own. They knocked him on the arm, the blade nicking him, and he swore. The fight got faster, striking and dodging. At one point the hooked edge of his knife caught on the back of their shoulder, and Cain yelled as it bit deep before coming loose. Their next slash caught his face, just above the eye, and blood spilled down across his vision. He spat and blinked, hissing. Cain snarled and lunged. 

“That is enough!” someone yelled, and the two of them broke apart. Cain’s vibro disappeared as quickly as it had come. The man did not, however, put his knife away. Cain backed up quickly as someone massive waded through the crowd. The man stood as a massive Nikto appeared, let into the circle surrounding the fight by the onlookers who formed it. “No fighting here! What is going on?” 

“Little thief tried to pick my pocket and then picked a fight about it!” The man turned to point to Cain–

And frowned. “They were right there. Where the hells-” 

“You got in a fight with a pickpocket?” the Nikto guard growled, as those in the direction the man was pointing looked around sharply for his target and came up empty. “And you can’t even produce the thief?” 

“They were right there, I swear-” 

“Did you get your things back?” 

“Yes, but-” 

“Would you like to come down to the station and explain, then, why you committed a breach of the peace after receiving your stolen items back, and when there is no thief to account for?” 

“...no, sir.” 

“Good. Now break it up, everyone, back to your business.” The Nikto dispersed the crowd, and the man slunk away, grumbling. Somewhere, someone in the crowd was missing their loose credits. 

---

When everyone had been distracted by the arrival of the guard and the crowd had jostled to make room for him to get through, Cain had slipped between two of the watchers and pulled the Force around themself, folding into it like a cloak and vanishing from perception. If they hadn’t, they would still have been clearly visible when he had pointed them out. Hiding their peculiar way let them slip unnoticed through the crowd, pulling a few spare credits from a few pockets as they went. Every jostle of their shoulder hurt; that divot was right over their shoulder blade, and every time it flexed it bled anew. They finally got themself to a distance they considered safe, away from the crowd. The rest of the way to their ship was taken at... not quite a run, but definitely an alacritous pace. They needed to get this shoulder injury cleaned. It stung quite sharply. If it was a utilitarian device, it might have had remnants of his work on it, and they were fairly certain it was an angler’s knife. They’d rather not get an infection from leftover fish guts. 

Once inside, Cain grabbed their first aid kit and went to the bathroom, craning over their shoulder to see in the mirror. It was a deeper divot than they’d thought, cutting a sharp crescent into the curve of their shoulder. Carefully removing the antiseptic, they held out a hand and let it float up and over their shoulder to spray the wound. They hissed. “Osik.” They reached around and cleaned it, biting back a whimper at the pain. “Ow, ow ow ow ouch ow. Osssss...ik.” They sprayed again and wiped it again, just to be on the safe side. It was too deep to just slap a bacta patch on it, and they pulled a few butterfly bandages out. Reaching around proved to pull the injury too sharply to actually apply the bandages, and after a moment to recover from the sudden jolt of pain, they gave in and used the Force. It was slow going. They could feel it very precisely, but moving it was a different matter. They did manage to get the divot closed, as much as was possible, but they put a large bacta patch over the whole area just to be safe.

“K...riff,” they huffed out in a long breath when they finally finished. “Note to self, next time don’t get caught.” They sighed. “If that was actually a fish knife I’m gonna have to keep an eye on that to make sure it doesn’t get infected. That could get nasty if I haven’t cleaned it properly.” Putting the first aid kit away, their movements were almost automatic. They’d done this more times than they’d care to admit if pressed. They hadn’t realised just how much of a tempering influence their brother had had on their stubborn recklessness. Kell was one of the few people who could get them to walk away from something. If he’d been there tonight, they might not be patching themself up again. If Kell had been there, they wouldn’t have been out there at all. 

But the same untempered stubbornness that got them into this situation was the reason they were still looking, nine months later. Cain put the kit away and moved to the comm, making sure it was broadcast long range on the proper frequency, and settled back in the chair. They leaned back a moment and then hissed sharply, taking the weight off that shoulder an instant later. “Right. Can’t do that. Sitting up time, I guess.” Talking to themself wasn’t unusual even before this, but when most of their time was spent on their own, it had become a more frequent habit. They checked the time, set the timer going, and started up with the usual. One hour, every day.

“Alderaan and Ryloth in Coruscant’s Crown.” Wait a few seconds, repeat. Repeat. Repeat. 

Twenty minutes in, Cain let out a long slow breath. “I did it again.” They drummed their fingers on the dash. “This time it was because I got caught, which. My own fault. I got careless and stupid and got caught with my hand literally in his pocket. Not my proudest moment.” A beat. “Alderaan and Ryloth in Coruscant’s Crown.” They pursed their lips. “You probably wouldn’t approve, but I don’t- it’s not like I have a lot of other options. I... I know you don’t like it when I nick things, but I can’t always get odd jobs. I do sense, as well, what kind of- of people I’m pickpocketing, and they never feel good. I-” They huffed. “I’m justifying. But I do try to live as honestly as I can. I just... Basically, I was stupid and I got myself injured again. I’ve gotten, for better or worse, quite good at first aid, but it should be fine. If it gets infected then I’ll... deal with that then.” That was a problem for future Cain. They pursed their lips. “You know, sometimes I hope you pick up on this part of the broadcast just to tell me off for being an idiot. You know? It would be worth it to have you yell at me, because then at least I would know.” They waited, part of them half-hoping. He always seemed to know when they did something idiotic. 

Maybe that was why they did it. Because Kell wasn’t there to stop them... Or because Kell wasn’t there to stop them.