Chapter Text
The walls had been Sniper’s idea, and a kriffing good idea at that.
After all, with quite a few POWs (who flinch at any sudden movement), and Echo, who is a whole other class, not to mention Ca’tra, the typical controlled chaos of the medbay right after a nasty campaign would be… too much. Kix thinks it would be too much for Ahsoka too, given what he can feel from her right now--but he can’t worry about her yet.
He focuses on General Skywalker’s burnt hand, wrapping it in bacta and then bandaging it tightly (ignoring the way the General swears and grumbles at him about being fine, ha, right). “Get him to a bunk, get his prosthetic off, make sure he didn’t burn off what’s left of his leg,” Kix tells another one of the junior medics, Adenn. “Sniper, start working on Kenobi, check on his chest wound, make sure he didn’t reopen it.”
A few more strings of orders, and he’s free to cut through the partitions to where Rex is sitting on a bunk, upper body armor off (good choice), the Commander curled tight against his side. Other than the bruises already standing out in stark relief against Rex’s neck, the Captain at least looks to be mostly uninjured--despite the dried blood all over his face; Ahsoka on the other hand he knows isn’t okay. Still, he stops by the bunk anyway, says, “What are we looking at?”
“She’s been shot in the shoulder and her side,” Rex says--and Ahsoka doesn’t even look up, just stays tucked under Rex’s arm. There’s a worrying mix of pain and fear and self-loathing and guilt and numbness spilling from her, and Kix thinks of the look on Cody’s face when he’d said we need to watch her and he thinks he understands.
Kix nods, says, “I need to look at your shoulder and side, Commander. Is that okay?”
She doesn’t respond--doesn’t really even seem aware-- and he swears. Kriff. “Come on, Captain, kriffing help me out here.”
~~~
Rex nods (because he's regretting the decision to ever talk again today) and nudges Ahsoka’s thoughts, stubbornly. I need you to sit up and let Kix look at you, Ahsoka.
There's more a pained reluctance from her than a refusal, and Rex pushes harder because he's not budging on this. Soka, come on. Now. He's gentle, but projects the impression that he isn't letting her argue.
She feels dead exhausted as she eases away from him enough that Kix can get to her, and Rex pulls his arm from around her and takes her hand instead. Kix glances briefly at Rex, eyes worried, then starts evaluating her newly-injured shoulder, gauze and antiseptic in hand, cleaning.
Rex can feel twinges of pain from her - and she doesn't care . And he remembers this, a little - Kadavo, cleaning shrapnel out of her hands, and her barely responding to any of it. That scares him more now than it had then, because now he has space to worry, and doesn't totally understand why . Kix shakes his head at her shoulder with an air of someone determining to worry about it later and starts cutting fabric away from the wound in Soka’s side, which even Rex can tell is much worse than her shoulder.
“Rex, I don't really want you talking, but,” Kix shrugs wearily, “what happened to your neck and is there anything else I have to look at? I'm hearing a lot of buzz and not a lot of answers.”
Rex swallows (and ow ), lifts one shoulder. “I have a blaster graze on my leg,” he says, pointing to his left leg. “The throat, um… I got strangled by Savage Opress. Started blacking out a little. But I killed him, so.” He shrugs again.
“I don't care if you killed a dozen Sith,” Kix says sharply, amd Rex almost believes him. “ Haar’chak , Rex, and then you decided to fight more, didn't you.”
“No?”
“Kriffing liar .” Kix closes his eyes for a second and then goes back to gently cleaning Ahsoka’s wound. “You have to stop doing things like that.”
Rex manages a twitch of a smile. “I don't see that happening, Kix. Although personally I'd love to stop almost dying.”
Kix just sighs, and Rex realizes his friend isn't really in the mood for this, so he goes quiet, just focuses on projecting love at Ahsoka and shielding his worry. (And if he's taking a little of her pain, too, who's going to stop him? Apparently not her. Still more concerning.)
He's ready for a pause in the fighting, is sure they'll get one with how diminished their forces are. They need time , he needs to figure out what's happened while he wasn't paying attention. He tries not to be too frustrated at himself for failing to notice this earlier, although it's hard. He sees now, whatever that's worth, and that will have to be enough.
~~~
Ca’tra opens her eyes to darkness.
There’s a dim crimson glow in one corner of her vision, and she frowns, strains to make out where she is, even as she already knows, deep in her bones.
No. No, no, no.
It’s instinct to even her breathing, slow and steady, like she hasn’t woken up; she forces herself to close her eyes, hold exactly, perfectly still save for the rhythmic up-and-down of her chest. Maybe, if she’s still enough, he won’t notice. Maybe--
“You thought you could run?” a voice murmurs, silken-soft and sharp-edged, like velvet and steel. “You thought you could escape.”
No!
There’s movement, she senses it, and her eyes snap open--she tries to sit up, to do something, anything, but there’s something holding her in place. She can’t move.
“Why would you want to run, my dear child?” She still can’t see, and his voice is echoing around her, around and around and around, and then a hand brushes against her hair and she jerks, tries to pull away, but she’s held still and she can’t move her head far enough to get away from the hand and no, please no, not this, not him. “I have given you everything, Ca’tra. I have kept you safe for so many years, I have taught you everything I know, and this is how you repay me?”
Safe? That’s what you call it? She holds perfectly still beneath his hand, tries to steady her breathing, but it’s ragged and sharp and shallow and she can’t control herself, can’t stop the trembling in every muscle, can’t do it. You never protected me, she wants to scream, you never tried, all you did is hurt and hurt and hurt, you gave me nothing but pain!
The Master sighs, sounds regretful. “Alas, I fear I have no choice but to discipline you harshly for this. The galaxy is not safe for you.” His hand vanishes and she can’t breathe because him touching her was bad but at least she knew where he was then, now she knows nothing, can’t anticipate, can’t prepare herself.
No, please no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and she’s shaking and she’s trapped here and she’s not sure how she got back (maybe it was all a dream, Elle and Kix and the jetiise) but she’s here and no, no, no! She can’t do this, please, she doesn’t want to do it anymore, it hurts and no. No, no, no.
Some instinct she can’t stifle grabs onto the Force, hard, reaches desperately for safety, for help, for warmth, please please please, he’ll use the lightning and he hates it when she screams but it always hurts so much and she doesn’t want it, she can’t do this, so please help, please, please.
~~~
Kix has just settled into his incredibly uncomfortable metal chair for the night - since he doesn’t trust anyone else watching his sensitive patients, he’s put himself on almost guard duty - when amongst all the waves of fear and exhaustion and pain and Force, this is a lot , he feels an impression almost like somebody shouting for help, for him even, and as he pushes himself automatically to his feet, someone’s mind latches onto his, hard . It’s an unfamiliar feeling, but Kix doesn’t shield like he should because he recognizes something about it and he realizes, after a second, that it’s Ca’tra . He gets flashes of images, of terror and Dooku’s face and voice, and Kix isn’t sure if they’re memories or a nightmare but Ca’tra’s talking in his head, like an echo of real speech, quiet, please help me, please, please, I can’t do this, please and Kix hurries over to her bunk, finds her curled up so tight it has to hurt, hands over her ears.
Kix knows nightmares, so he sits down on the edge of her bunk and starts talking, doesn’t touch her, asks the Force for calm and pushes peace into the ambient Force. He’s a little afraid to try doing anything in her mind directly, because she isn’t awake and she probably didn’t mean to grab onto him like this, so he just tries to talk out loud like he would with his vod’e and keeps up a small projection of comfort.
“Ca’tra, hey, you’re safe. Can you wake up? It’s okay, it’s just me, and we’re in the med bay.” There’s Darkness shrieking electric around the edges of her thoughts and Kix reaches for the Force again.
I just need that to go away, he says, meaning the Dark, and the Force rumbles agreement (it’s getting a lot easier to convince the Force to do things, much to Kix’s delight) and Kix feels everything grow Lighter, easier, even calmer. “Come on, burc’ya , you’re okay.” He can feel her terror dissipate a little, the images disappearing, but she doesn’t let go of his mind. He thinks she might be aware enough now that it’s safe to reach out, touch her shoulder lightly (and without totally meaning to he nudges her thoughts a little). She flinches a little, but pulls her hands away from her ears and opens her eyes, and Force she still looks and feels so scared .
“Hey,” he says, pulling his hand back so she has space, keeping a blanket of Light eased over her bunk because it’s easier than he’d anticipated and she probably needs it. “You’re in my medbay, Ca’tra, you’re okay.”
~~~
The only reason Ca’tra doesn’t make some kind of incriminating, probably embarrassing noise is years of conditioning (silence is safety). She’s jerked awake by the strangest sensation: the darkness of the room, of the Master, bleeds away, and in its place there’s--soft, bright warmth, peace and tranquility and calm, and she freezes instinctively, eyes snapping open and hands dropping from her ears (as though that would keep the Master’s voice away), trying to catalogue her surroundings.
She doesn’t recognize this place.
Doesn’t recognize this… warmth, either, except a very faint part of her hums Light and that doesn’t make sense, she’s not and will never be a jetii, she is too Dark, too Sith. She tries to force her breathing into something vaguely resembling steady, though it’s almost a futile attempt, holds herself utterly still, frozen, clings to the only familiar thing she can feel.
There’s a voice.
“Hey. You’re in my medbay, Ca’tra, you’re okay,” and that sounds familiar, and the voice knows her name, which must mean she knows the voice--the voice feels like the--
Oh.
The familiar, the safety, is another mind against hers, a Force-signature she knows, and she realizes slowly she’s clutching the mind close, desperate, without permission, and--and that’s something the Master would do, she can’t. But she can’t quite let go, because she’s not sure which is the dream and which is reality and the room--the medbay?--is dark and she can’t, can’t, needs to breathe. Needs to stay calm. Don’t think.
Kix, it’s Kix, sitting on the edge of her bunk, talking to her in a low, soothing voice, and she thinks maybe the Light and calm is coming from him too. I’m sorry, Kix. She really hadn’t meant to disturb the Force. I didn’t mean to reach without permission. Now if only she could actually tell him that…
~~~
Kix doesn’t mean to hear her thoughts, he’s trying not to listen, but it’s like she’s aiming the words at him on purpose, although she doesn’t project, and he blinks, hesitates because actual words from her are something he didn’t expect, not for a long time, and this isn’t the same, but…
He hesitates before answering, because he still isn’t sure she wanted him to feel that, but the Force gives him a nudge. Answer her, little one . Kix doesn’t argue with the Force about this kind of thing, because the Force usually knows, so he reaches very cautiously back towards her mind.
It’s okay , he thinks. I understand, nightmares are shitty. Bad. Kriff . It’s harder to control talking with his thoughts than out loud, which he supposes he’ll have to work on.
He feels a flicker of surprise, gets the impression she didn’t expect him to hear, and Kix thinks (although he hopes he manages not to project it) that since she’s hanging onto his mind she really should have expected him to hear. I can shield better and not listen, if you want, he says, because since she’s awake now maybe it’ll be okay if she doesn’t feel him so much - he doesn’t suggest she let go. She’ll do that when she’s ready to and not before, and it’s not bothering him, and if it helps her stay grounded then it’s fine.
~~~
Ca’tra hadn’t meant to project--in fact, she knows she wasn’t projecting, just… well. Thinking. But Kix had heard her and responded and--and a part of her is almost desperate for shields, to pull back and hide, because the Master--but this is Kix, not the--not Dooku. And it’s been a long time since someone heard her.
She uncurls herself, slowly, hesitant, grumbling to herself a little at the stiffness in her muscles, pushes herself up on one elbow and peers at him, a bit curiously. Do you want to? she asks, pushes the words at him a little, which is a new feeling. She finds she doesn’t mind it, so much.
She can feel Kix hesitate, considering, and then he responds (which is so new, so strange). Whatever you need, he says carefully, I don’t mind shielding if you don’t want me to listen.
She blinks, at that. Tilts her head to one side, pushing herself to a sitting position and bringing her knees up to her chest (and then glaring as a lock of dark hair falls in front of her eyes, attempting to blow it away from her face). You would stop, if I asked?
Of course I would, he says, and there’s a flash of anger, but she senses it’s not directed at her--she nudges his thoughts a little, curious (and emboldened by his answer), sees he’s angry at the--at Dooku. And then he notices her presence, and she hurriedly retreats from those thoughts, dropping her eyes to her hands where they’re wrapped around her legs. It’s okay, he sends, though, a bit of reassurance floating across too, and she dares to look up again.
Stay, she thinks at him, a bit accidentally, hurries to fix it. I mean, and this is so much harder when someone can hear her, I don’t--it’s… people don’t usually hear. Which isn’t much an answer. Or I don’t want them to, and oh kriff she didn’t mean to think that to him, oops, kriff. Sorry, I’m not… I don’t… talk. To people. Except the Ma--Dooku. She answered him when he spoke to her, because it was necessary, because punishment, and she doesn’t want to think about this.
~~~
Ca’tra’s thoughts are suddenly tangled, spinning, and Kix makes his own mind steady , precise, careful, like this is a surgery, because he catches a flicker of memory of pain . It's okay, I understand. So it’s okay if I don’t shield? He does carefully shield the thought that he hopes that’s what she means, because that’s not important now.
Ca’tra’s answer is fast, still hesitant somehow. Yes . Kix smiles at her, thinks he needs to get her back to sleep if he can because she’s got all kinds of internal damage from (he thinks) electric shock, and he doubts she’s slept much at all recently, and she’s dehydrated and scared and all of those things need rest to heal. She still has a few strands of hair in her face and Kix resists the urge to offer to push it back for her; he doesn’t think that would exactly help her.
It would be good if you could sleep again, burc’ya , he says, isn’t even a little surprised when she recoils from that idea, brow furrowing sharply. He sighs a little and eases more Light and comfort, backs off from the suggestion a little. Although she does need to sleep, and he can’t sedate her because that would be a deep breach of what little trust he’s apparently earned.
I can’t , she says, almost feels apologetic, and alright, he understands that. He’s been a medic for long enough, he knows how damage like this affects a person. Unfortunately, torture and injury and kriffing Sith Lords make healing… difficult.
And he needs to figure out how to shield specific thoughts and feelings better.
~~~
Ca’tra doesn’t know if she wants to smile or wince at the thought she picks up, about torture and injury and kriffing Sith Lords, because it’s sort of amusing how irritated Kix is, but also she’s a Sith. In training. But she remembers a comment he’d made, about how he knew she wasn’t evil, and so she decides to maybe go out on a bit of a limb. Evil Sith Lords? she asks, hesitant, nudges the brief memory of Sith? Yeah, if they’re evil, but you aren’t, at him.
To her surprise, Kix laughs a little, grins, and she thinks that’s… nice. So she tentatively tries a smile back, feels a flicker of surprise from the medic, though he doesn’t say anything about it, and relaxes her fingers a bit (they’ve been tightly twisted together and into the blanket ever since she sat up). Yeah, evil Sith Lords, he says, shakes his head a little, and she catches another stray thought, something about it being good she can smile still.
That, of course, is followed by more irritation, the disgruntled impression he is really kriffing bad at shielding, and she shouldn’t, but for some reason that’s funny, and she drops her eyes, stifles a tiny tiny giggle in her knees. It just takes practice, she tells him, ducks her head a little to hide a broader smile behind her hair, because he feels happy and it’s infectious and she’s--she’s not back there. It was just a dream (even if it was an awful one), and the M--and Dooku isn’t here, doesn’t have her, and she’d never even dared to imagine this could ever happen. So thank you, she says, sincere, peeks up at him again through her hair, looks away before he can catch her eyes. For--saving me.
~~~
Kix really, really should focus on getting Ca’tra to go back to sleep, because that is the responsible thing to do, and his job, but Force she's practically hiding in her hair and sneaking glances at him like she doesn't want him to notice and she'd smiled, she'd giggled for kriff’s sake, and it's… damn it, it's cute . He runs his hand over his tattoos reflexively. I didn't do that much, Ca’tra. There's a surge of confusion, disbelief, and he shrugs. No, I mean it. It's just… it's what we do here. The 501st, I mean. And the General. Anyone else would've gotten you out, you know.
He thinks. General Skywalker had him worried for a bit, but he'd figured it out too.
He senses Ca’tra thinking for a second, then she says, But you took the M- Dooku’s punishment, for… me. No one does that. He gets an impression of never .
I was fine, Kix says awkwardly, dismissively. I just got rid of the lightning, I didn't… He stops, shakes his head. Anyway , I was glad to do it.
From one side of the medbay he feels a spike of pain and turns a little, reaches out into the Force to see if that means someone needs more meds, needs his attention, but it's just Rex twisting wrong in his sleep. Kriff him, then. He'll be fine.
~~~
Ca'tra frowns a little, studies him when he glances over his shoulder, confused and more than a little curious. He looks back sooner than she'd expected and catches her eyes, and she freezes a little, unsure what to do.
You can look at me, Ca'tra, he says gently, and she flushes a little, looks away. I'm not going to bite.
The--Dooku hadn't liked eye contact. She pushes that information at Kix, feels another spike of anger from him, sharper than the last one. She's not sure what to do, what to say, so she swallows a little and offers him the nightmare-memory-dream, tells him this is what I was dreaming.
He swears, aloud, sharp, and she tenses without meaning to, prepared for an inevitable blow or surge of lightning, but--there's nothing. Just a warm apology and some frustration directed at himself. Sorry, Kix.
He shakes his head, a wry grimace twisting his face. Nah, that was my fault, sorry. There's a stray drifting thought that I should know better and she frowns at it, pointedly raises her eyebrows. I should, he defends, I do.
She half-shrugs. You're fine. And he is, really. I'll get used to it.
Kix doesn't feel very impressed by that, and she thinks he can probably tell she's unsure, but she offers him a hesitant half-smile, barely more than a twitch of her lips, and she ducks her head down again. What do your tattoos mean?
It's a spur-of-the-moment question, and she flushes and hides behind her hair again, because what if that was too personal? She really hadn't meant to ask, it'd just… slipped out. I'm sorry, I didn't mean--sorry, and she darts another nervous glance up at him, flushing more when she accidentally catches his eye.
~~~
Kix can’t help it; he laughs, runs his fingers over the tattoos again as he catches the edge of a thought that maybe it’s too personal of a question. It’s okay , and he can’t help leaning forward just a touch, conspiratorially, and he smiles at her and tries to hold her gaze for a second although she quickly looks down again. “They just say ‘The only good droid is a dead one.’ So not all that personal.” He leans back again. “Kriffing satisfying though.”
She kind of raises an eyebrow at him. Droids are stupid , she thinks, and Kix grins and nods. And they break easily .
Kix snorts. I’ll say . I got this after my first couple campaigns. It seemed… appropriate . He’d lost a lot of vod’e trying to save them, and he wasn’t a fighter, really, but he’d still been angry , and tired. At the time he’d still felt every death like it was his fault. Somehow the ironic statement had seemed like the right thing to get tattooed - and, well, if the Aurebesh script had happened to look damn good too, then that was just a bonus.
He realizes Ca’tra heard most of that and sighs internally. He’s not used to having to pay so much attention to what he’s thinking.
Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la , she thinks, tentatively, and Kix huffs a small breath through his nose, shrugs.
Thanks, burc’ya. He looks down on his knees, breathes a little. The Force hums a little and he reaches for some Light in one of the better meditation techniques he has. It isn’t one General Kenobi taught him, because he finds most of those require too much concentration. Which he doesn’t have time for most days.
~~~
Ca’tra almost, almost reaches out one hand, because she can feel a hum of soft pain running just under the surface of Kix’s thoughts and she knows how that feels.
Almost.
But the idea of it, of actually making herself vulnerable like that is… too much, so she just watches him, tentatively projects a bit of understanding, because that’s the closest she can get to comfort. He feels grateful, some, but then she can feel him reaching (and that’s odd, she’s never really felt that before) and the Force answers him, and there’s more of that calm-soft-brilliance and she frowns a little. Kix?
Yeah? he answers, sounds a bit distracted, focusing on whatever it is he’s doing or feeling, she thinks.
Is that the Light Side? She swallows a bit, shifts, tucks her knees up against her chest a bit more--hesitant to remind him she’s dar’jetii. I’ve… never felt the Light Side before. It’s a hard thing to admit, because he’s a lightsider, she can tell, even if he’s not a jetii, and lightsiders and darksiders never work together well. Different philosophies, and all that, she thinks. And she really doesn’t want that.
~~~
Kix blinks and focuses a bit more on her, surprised - and then again, not sure why he’s surprised. Yeah, it is . He thinks a second, then pushes into the Force a little. Vod, you should show her what it feels like .
The Force, as it always does, feels amused at his insistence on calling it vod , but it just rumbles a little and he senses he should reach for her thoughts, focus, and it’s like a breath out and the Force sings a little and Light threads careful into her mind. Kix hopes it’s okay to do that.
Ca’tra’s eyes go wide and she actually looks up at him, startled, and he doesn’t know, again, why he’s surprised that her eyes don’t have even a speck of yellow in them anymore. They’re just soft hazel, tiny flecks of green, and he doesn’t worry he’s overstepped because he can feel wonder in her thoughts.
Thanks, vod , he says, and there’s an impression very similar to a laugh, a shake of the head. Kix thinks the Force finds him amusing - which is fair. Since it’s the Force .
~~~
Yeah, it is, Kix tells her, and then Ca’tra can feel him doing something, she’s not sure what, and--
And in between one heartbeat and the next, she feels him reach out and before she can decide if she should shield or not everything is flooded with--with warmth and peace and calm, softness, and she knows instinctively this is the Light. She sucks in a sharp breath, feels the Light’s warmth easily, effortlessly sweeping away the ice of the Dark in her veins, and jerks her eyes up to stare at Kix, because--because this is so much more than she’d imagined. It’s so… bright, she thinks, only half-meaning to, and then she realizes she’s staring and she swallows, looks away quickly.
Yeah, that’s why they call it the Light Side, Kix says, sounds amused and almost affectionate. Pretty great, isn’t it?
Ca’tra closes her eyes, reaches a little into this strange new brightness, the warmth of it all, the way everything sings, heals and creates and lives, humming with a vibrancy she’d never felt on Mustafar. It’s beautiful, she thinks, feels Kix agree, investigates a bit more. The Dark is… angry, all the time. Chaotic, destructive, but never warm, and she projects an impression of ice, of the coldness of its grip. This is… it’s fire.
~~~
Kix hasn’t felt much of the Dark, but he has felt some, flickers on Umbara despite pretending he couldn’t, Sidious like a black hole or a dead star, nearly everything on Mustafar. And sometimes the anger in him is cold too, near-icy, but that’s just part of war. He reaches for a little more Light to project to her, privately delighted by her reaction. I know. The Light Side of the Force is better .
As usual, the Force doesn’t like that assertion, because the Force thinks balance is very important. Kix supposes that’s probably true, but still.
The Light Side is better.
Ca’tra finally feels so much calmer , and Kix threads a little more Light through her thoughts as he brings back his suggestion from earlier: You should try to sleep now, Ca’tra . I can keep the Light there for you so you don’t have any nightmares .
She hesitates, but Kix knows how the Light feels, knows it’s hard to resist its warmth and peace, and also can feel how tired Ca’tra is. He resists the urge to put Force-suggestion into his words because he wants her to sleep but that would be too much. “I’ll be in the medbay all the time, over there tonight,” he says, points at his wonderful chair, “and I can make sure there’s no more nightmares or Dark.”
Okay, she thinks, then straightens a little, lets go of her legs with one arm and picks up one of her pillows. She turns back to him, cocks her head a little and raises her eyebrows, holding the pillow out in his direction. She’s almost smiling. You should take this. For the chair .
Kix laughs and reaches out (slowly) to take it from her. Thanks. You’re smart, bribing me with pillows. He wants to wink, but really , he’s not Fives , he’s not that insufferable. I owe you one, mirdala .
Ca’tra actually feels amused at the nickname. Kix smiles and eases himself to his feet - and Force he’s too tired. “Just try to rest, okay?” he says. It’s easy to keep the Force humming softly through her thoughts and around her bunk - and apparently, as it turns out, the rest of this half of the med bay. That’s probably good, actually. He’s never tried this before.
Okay , she says, and he wraps both arms around the pillow she handed him and goes back to his chair so he can keep an eye on his patients like he needs to. Maybe later he’ll wake up Tuck and get him to sit in this stupid kriffing metal chair while he gets some sleep. After all, Tuck didn’t have to fight any Sith today.
For now, though, he focuses on staying awake, staying anchored in the Force so he can pay attention to everyone and keep everything peaceful .
~~~
After Kix leaves, her spare pillow clutched loosely in both arms, Ca’tra stays upright for a long moment, watching as the medic (who she can feel is almost as tired as she is) makes his way back to that truly awful looking chair and sits down, tucking the pillow behind his back. He doesn’t look comfortable, exactly, but she’d like to think the pillow helps.
Mirdala, he’d called her. Clever.
She doesn’t quite smile, but she decides she likes the way it sounds; and maybe it’s the way the Light is still warm and soft and peaceful through her thoughts, but she feels almost relaxed. Not quite, not wholly (she can’t remember what it feels like to be totally relaxed), but enough to let herself give in to exhaustion and lay back down, curling up in a ball beneath the blanket and looking out over the medbay.
It’s still dark, there’s still shadows shifting and deep pools of blackness beneath every bunk, but she’s not cold anymore and she can still feel Kix, a whisper-light hum in the back of her mind, barely-there but all the more reassuring for that. Maybe she should put shields up, but she trusts him not to look at anything, and if she puts up shields that might block the warmth, and she doesn’t want that. So she lets the Light soothe her towards sleep, trusts Kix to keep his promise, and the peace and tranquility, almost, lets her eyes drift close.
It’s nice, she thinks tiredly, and she lets out a soft sigh and nestles deeper into the blanket, sends a sleepy thank you in Kix’s direction. And then the Light wraps her warm and bright in its embrace, and she lets sleep take her.
~~~
Rex doesn’t think he’s ever going to be comfortable with the burning, itching, shifting feeling that Force healing gives him. Sure it’s fast, and sure it’s great that Kix can do it, but it doesn’t ever feel right .
Particularly, as it turns out, when it’s his throat that needs fixing - he feels like he needs to cough or gag or something . However, when Kix leans back with a semi-satisfied look on his face, Rex is relieved to find he can move his head again and talk without regretting it.
“Thanks, Kix,” he says, and his friend just rolls his eyes tiredly and moves on to Ahsoka, who hasn’t been much more communicative today. Rex barely even has to think about his projections anymore because he’s holding onto them automatically: love, calm, a thread of concern. They’re in orbit over Coruscant, and although normally Rex prefers the Resolute , because it feels more like home, Coruscant means they get at least a short leave. And Rex needs that. They all do.
Right now most of the more stable of the wounded are being moved to the Jedi Temple medbay; Kix has adamantly refused to move anyone in his little partitioned-off room yet, and Rex thinks that’s probably wise. From what he understands, Kenobi has been barking orders from his bunk all day, having Cody get the rescued slaves and POWs from his cruiser down to the surface.
It takes Kix a few minutes before he sighs, stands up, nods a little. “That’s all I can do for now,” he says, voice tinged with weariness. Then he moves on to the next bunk, and Rex shifts closer to Ahsoka, rests a hand on the small of her back.
Are you doing alright, cyare?
~~~
Ahsoka is tired.
She knows she should just… wake up, but her dreams are beckoning her with the sweet siren song of safety and peace, and she knows that’s not good but she wants it.
But… but she shouldn’t want it.
She curls closer to Rex (there’s a bit of a flare of pain in her side, but she can’t muster the energy to care), presses her face into his collarbone and closes her eyes. No, she thinks, which is the closest she can get to really understanding what’s wrong. Because she doesn’t know, doesn’t understand, and she thinks it should scare her more but she’s so tired today and so cold and it’s hard to care when she’s frozen. The ice is back. I want--I want to dream, she tells Rex honestly, shivering a little and nestling as close to him as she can get.
~~~
Okay , Rex says, tries not to let her feel how much that scares him. He puts both arms around her, holds on tight , thinks for a moment. He wants to ask why, why she just wants to hide in a dream and… and everything else , because there's so much going on in her head and he can't figure it out. He decides to ask anyway, as gentle as he can, because he just wants to understand . Do you know why, Soka?
She shakes her head against his chest, feels scared. No, I just- I don't know.
Okay, alright . Rex curls a hand around her montrals, sighs a little through his nose. He remembers there were a few men in his battalion, especially in the earlier days, who got to looking… hollow. He hadn't known to look for that before then, hadn't understood when Kix tried to explain to him why they’d died from treatable injuries, why they'd pulled such reckless stunts. Years and frequent acquaintance taught him better than Kix had been able to explain. His own weariness made it easier to understand, too. But he doesn't understand why his Soka is like that now, doesn't understand how to help .
The dream is nice , he says carefully, slowly, listening in her thoughts for her reaction. But it's… it's not real . He feels a surge of frustration, a sense that Ahsoka knows that , and he sighs. He doesn't understand why she wants to stay in the dream, if it isn't real, because wouldn't that just make everything else feel worse - but he pushes that down, decides to just… sit. She feels too cold and too tired to make sense of anything and Rex is terrified by that but he's good at hanging onto her, at least, good at listening , so he can do both and wait.
~~~
Ahsoka wishes she knew how to explain. She knows the dream isn’t real, but… but it’s happy, and it’s soft and warm and peaceful, and there’s no pain, nothing hurts. She tries to push an impression of that across the bond, though she’s not sure she succeeds in totally capturing the feeling. I know it’s not real, she huffs, frustrated and tired, a bone-deep exhaustion that has nothing to do with her body and everything to do with her mind and her heart.
Then why? Rex doesn’t understand, she can feel, and he’s trying to coax an answer out of her without pushing too much.
She doesn’t want to give him an answer, doesn’t want to admit to him the truth she’s only just begun to accept--but he deserves an explanation, at least, he deserves honesty, he deserves to know the truth about her. So she swallows, takes a shaky breath. Because it hurts, she says, stifles a small sob, because it hurts and I hurt and nothing ever works and I don’t want to hurt anymore, Rex. She feels him try to say something, but she cuts him off. Because I’m a coward, because I order people to die every day and I don’t even know why I’m fighting anymore. Because-- and she shudders a little, hides her face against his chest-- because I can’t, won’t watch you die too, it would kill me, Rex, and I can’t do it anymore.
~~~
Rex trails his fingers in a light pattern over Ahsoka’s montrals, hums a bit while he processes what she’s said - it seems simplest to focus on one thing first, the thing he understands best. I know , he says, lets understanding soothe steady and slow into her thoughts. He sends part of the memory of a few days ago, of sitting in the mess hall and feeling exhausted . He does not let her see Fives, or the fact that he wanted to leave. Those things are better left for another day.
(Something’s bothering him, making his instincts thrill nervous. But he couldn’t name any one thing.)
I’m sorry, Soka, I… kind of understand. Knows how it feels not to want to hurt anymore, lose anymore. You aren’t a coward though, you know . You’ve never been. Sometimes it’s just too much - that’s not your fault or mine or anyone’s .
I’m scared, Rex , she says, and Rex finds it hard to swallow past an ache in his throat, suddenly.
Yeah, cyare. Me too . But you’re gonna be okay, alright? He’s aware that’s a bit of a foolish thing to say, but part of him believes it. Trust me, we’ll figure it out.
~~~
Ahsoka takes a shaky breath. Okay, she breathes, trembling a little. There’s so much, fear and horror and shame hiding behind the ice, behind the exhaustion, leaving her jittery and with a sickening twist in her stomach--but she trusts Rex. Always has, always will. Okay. Can--can you just… tell me a story? Please? She just wants to hear his voice, to feel safe.
Rex hums a little, soothes his hand over her montrals and headtails. Sure, he says gently, and she can feel him thinking, considering. There was this time, back when I was a cadet. One of the trainers had a head big enough he wouldn’t’ve been able to fit in a bucket, and his mental voice is wryly amused, spent a lot of time talking about how he was a better shot just because he was Mandalorian. He irritated Cody and I to no end. One day I got tired of it and decided to challenge him, prove that I was better than him--Cody was not pleased. She catches a flash of memory, someone saying I am not hauling your ass out of the trouble this is going to land you in before Rex tucks the memory away again, with the mental equivalent of a shrug. Of course, I did it anyway.
She smiles, just a little, because of course he did. What happened?
I won, and Cody had to cover my cleaning shifts for a week. He still sounds ridiculously proud of himself. The longnecks weren’t too happy with us, but, and there’s another mental shrug, it was totally worth it.
It’s hard to picture Rex as a cadet, though she thinks he’d definitely pull a stunt like the one he’s talking about. She sends him a wave of fond amusement, though it’s an effort through the ice, curls a little closer. So what you’re telling me is you’ve always been this reckless, she hums tiredly.
~~~
I am not reckless, Rex thinks, snorts. It’s not reckless to challenge someone to a little extra target practice.
Ahsoka sends him an impression that’s the equivalent of a raised eyebrow and come on, really?
Rex rolls his eyes, rubs her shoulder with one hand. Reckless implies I don’t know what I’m doing, Ahsoka. I don’t put myself in situations I can’t get out of. Or at least not ones he isn’t prepared for.
He gets a memory of fighting Sidious, and winces a little, shrugs. That wasn’t reckless exactly, he grumbles. I knew what I was doing. I had to help you . That was carefully premeditated insanity .
What about getting choked by Savage, how did that happen? He blinks; he hadn’t been sure she’d heard him talk about that, she’d been so out of it.
That, he thinks, remembering his thought process somewhat wryly. Was very carefully premeditated insanity. If it helps, I knew it was a terrible idea but it all worked out. Actually - and he certainly doesn’t feel a tiny thrill of pride - I killed him. So you could say I knew I could handle it. He hadn’t, but if he admitted that, he definitely wouldn’t convince her he wasn’t reckless. Which is the point here. Not to brag about his victories like Lofty and Jesse always do.
~~~
I killed him, Rex says, and those three words break through the ice more fully than anything else has thus far. Ahsoka pulls back a little, stares up at him, unsure if she wants to kill him for being a stupid di’kut and risking his life like that, or if she wants to kiss him for--still being a stupid di’kut, but a really badass one.
“You killed Savage Opress?” she says, her voice hoarse. “By yourself?”
He’s smirking, smug and far too proud of himself. “Yep,” he says, pops the ‘p’, and reaches out with one hand to lightly tap her nose with a finger. “Stabbed him in the throat.”
If you’d died I would’ve killed you, she grumbles, because he’s insufferably smug, but his finger slips from her nose to trace the white markings on her face and that mollifies her some. It’s too much effort to keep her eyes open, so she lets her eyelids flutter closed, leans into his touch and sighs softly. You’re still reckless.
So are you, ‘Soka, he hums. Cody told me about that stunt you pulled with the destroyer.
She can’t quite stifle a wince. It needed to be killed and I didn’t have any droid poppers or grenades.
Rex frowns, and she can feel his disapproval, and worry, and something else. But not at the cost of your life, cyare.
She half-shrugs one shoulder. Why not? It needed to be done.
~~~
Not that badly , Rex thinks, has to put some effort into not projecting it sharp . It’s like it doesn’t register anyway, though, and she shrugs again. Rex eases back, leaves one hand on her cheek and slides the other down to her bicep, frowning. “Ahsoka, killing a Sith might - might - be something we could die trying to do. Protecting our men. But one Destroyer , Ahsoka?”
It needed to die, and I was there, and I killed it , she says, and Rex bites back a string of swear words because that would not be particularly helpful. You could have died fighting Savage .
It’s not the same! he snaps, closes his eyes for a second and sighs because he needs to not do this , it’s not going to help. That was necessary, this… this was actually reckless. He’s seen his vod’e do things like that, pick fights they can’t win, try things they can’t pull off, and sometimes it’s cockiness but sometimes it’s that they don’t really expect, don’t really want , to succeed.
And Rex can’t stand that his Soka has done the same thing.
His instincts still have him wound tight, too - he’s going to have to figure out why but he thinks it’s not urgent, exactly, just important.
~~~
Ahsoka sighs a little, shakes her head. Maybe it was reckless, she says, half-shrugs again, but I--I don't know, Rex, nothing makes sense anymore and I don't know what to do.
We'll figure it out, he promises again, runs a hand across her montrals again.
She lets the promise soothe her, leans into his hand. Rex will help. Everything will be okay, now, he'll help her break the ice and be warm again. I love you, Rex.
Love you too, Soka, and he presses a light kiss to her forehead. No more fighting for a while, okay?
Ahsoka doesn't think she's ever been so glad to hear those words.
~~~
Miik has been trying to peer through the barriers in the medbay for five minutes when Sniper comes up behind him, crouches down and gives him a look. “Miik, you can't go back there.”
“Why not?” Miik says. He's curious about why Kix and the medics sectioned off the medbay, and Sniper had only told him, rather carelessly, it was because they wanted to keep nosy kids out of there. Which is not a good answer. “I want to see.”
“ Vaar’ika , the patients in there are all very tired,” Sniper drawls. “And sad. I need you to stay out here.”
Suddenly Kix tugs back one of the partition pieces and pokes his head out, looks at the two of them. “Miik,” he sighs, “How long have you been standing there?”
“A while,” Miik lies, because it hasn't been that long but he wants Kix to let him through. He's curious .
Kix sighs again, rolls his eyes, and comes out and crouches down, waves his hand so Sniper runs off to do something else. “Look, vaar’ika , I can let you in, but everyone over here is very easily scared. You have to stay by me and not be loud, okay?”
Yes! Miik stops himself from being too excited because he can tell Kix is tired and he can feel that Kix is right, all the people beyond the partition are scared and hurting and exhausted.
“Now look, if we see Captain Rex you can talk to him, that's fine. Ahsoka is sad, and my friend Ca’tra doesn't talk to anyone so she won't answer you. I don't want you to talk to Echo at all, if we go by him, okay?”
Miik nods. Kix is being very serious, so he's serious too when he says, “Yeah, Kix, I get it.”
“Okay, good, kid. Now come on.” Kix goes back through the wall, and Miik hurries after him, clutching the piece of bread he's got in his pocket.
The magic (which Anakin has told him is the Force) hums very loudly with pain, over here, and Miik pins his ears back against his head, tries not to hiss because Papa says hissing is rude. He trails after Kix to a bunk where a human (a female one, he thinks) with long black hair is sitting, playing with a length of rope, and she feels nervous. Miik isn't sure how he knows it's her that feels nervous. Probably the magic- the Force.
“Ca’tra,” Kix says, his voice going soft in that way it does when he's talking to his patients and Miik’s mama, “this is Miik.” He pats Miik on the head, and Miik flicks his ears in annoyance because honestly , he doesn't know why Kix (and most of the other humans, for that matter) like petting him on the head so much, but he wishes they'd stop acting like he's so little .
~~~
Ca'tra looks up from her rope (Kix had gotten it for her that morning, after he'd come by to check on her and found her fingers raw from tying blanket threads into knots) when Kix and a small Zygerrian approach, looks down before she makes eye contact, focuses on the knot she's tying. The boy--Miik, apparently--comes very close to the edge of her bunk before stopping, and it's instinct to tuck her knees a bit tighter to her chest, tighten her fingers around the rope.
“Hi,” Miik says, and he looks curious and eager and interested. She tilts her head a little to one side in acknowledgement, waits--she can tell he's not done talking. He's practically vibrating with a question, after all. “Kix says you don't talk. My momma doesn't talk much either, papa says it's cause she's sad all the time. Are you sad too?”
Ca'tra freezes a little, her hands stilling, looks up at Kix. The medic is watching carefully, ready to step in, but he just smiles reassuringly at her, threads a bit of Light through her thoughts, which helps. A little. Sometimes, and she half-shrugs a shoulder, doesn't quite make eye contact. Mostly just careful, sometimes scared. She thinks Kix picks up on that thought, because he looks at her and she can feel a thread of concern.
“Can you show me how to do that?” Miik asks, suddenly, startling her a little. He's pointing at the rope, at the elaborate knot she's tied in it.
I'll be right here, Kix promises gently, softly, and that's good. Kix is safe.
Yes. She undoes the knot with a single tug, hesitates before dropping her legs so she's sitting cross-legged, leans forward a little and holds the rope out in front of her, waits. To her surprise, Miik scrambles up to sit with her; she tenses a little, but he doesn't do anything and so she relaxes a little, smiles at Kix. This will be okay. She thinks.
~~~
It surprises Kix a little that Miik is so calm - but then, he's seen the boy with his mom, how careful he and his father both are, and suddenly he's glad he let Miik come over here. Miik watches Ca’tra do a step in the knot, then undo it and pass it over to him; he imitates her very carefully, starting to ramble, almost to himself.
Kix finds himself a chair, lets the smile playing around the edges of his mouth grow. I told you you were smart, he projects carefully to Ca’tra, feels a small hum of pleasure at that. I think you're a good teacher .
Miik imitates the step correctly, shrills, “ Wizard! ” which Kix is sure he picked up from Anakin.
See? he says, grinning when she peeks up at him, almost blushing. Mirdala. Although I don't know if he needs to know how to tie more knots .
Ca’tra looks back at Miik, but pushes some of her hair behind her ear shyly, which Kix decides to assume means she appreciates his compliment. He's proud of Miik - the vaar’ika isn't being as careful, maybe, as Kix would be himself, but he seems to know instinctively not to scoot any closer on the bunk and he's (mostly) being very quiet like Kix had asked.
“I did that wrong,” he proclaims after the third step, pushes the rope back at Ca’tra, who smiles slightly and undoes Miik’s efforts, shows him again, more slowly. Miik imitates it this time again, gets the same thing wrong - Kix sees what it is, and he leans forward, taps Miik on the shoulder. “ Vaar’ika , that part goes over, not under.”
~~~
Ca'tra projects a thankful hum at Kix for pointing out the error, looks up to see him just watching her with a little smile on his face and warmth in his eyes. She flushes a little, looks quickly back down, reaches out and touches one of Miik’s hands, directs him to adjust the way he's holding the rope. He frowns, watches her fingers intently as she manipulates the rope.
It takes a few more minutes, but soon Miik has the completed knot in his hands. “Wizard,” he enthuses brightly, a bit loud--she breathes through it, manages not to flinch or even tense up much, smiles at him.
Tell him he did well? Ca'tra asks, with a glance over at Kix, who nods.
“Ca'tra says you did good, Miik,” Kix says, and Miik smiles even wider.
“Can you show me another one tomorrow?” he asks, eyes big and wide and pleading, and she sighs, taking the rope back, smiles a little bit.
Yes. She nods, and Miik cheers, then claps his hands over his mouth and whispers, “Thanks!”
“Come on,” Kix says, puts a hand on Miik’s shoulder, “let's go talk to the Captain, yeah?”
Miik nods, scrambles to his feet, waves. “Bye, Ca'tra!”
She wiggles her fingers in a little tiny wave, smiles widely as the two of them leave.
~~~
Miik glances back at Ca’tra as he follows Kix, catches her smiling before she goes back to tying her knots. He likes her.
The Captain is leaning on a bunk, the Jedi, Ahsoka, sitting on it crosslegged and looking, as Kix had said, sad. The Captain, on the other hand, looks really entertained.
“Damn, Kix.” Captain Rex leans forward a little, smiling, then glances down at Miik and cringes. Miik thinks it's because of the swearing again. “You're hopeless , vod .”
“What do you mean, Rex?” Kix says, snorting. He sounds annoyed, as he goes over to Ahsoka and starts probing at her side. Miik scrambles past Captain Rex and up onto the bunk next to Ahsoka. She smiles a little bit at him.
“Oh, come on, vod , I know that face,” Rex says dryly. “So what do you like about her so much?”
“Ca’tra is sweet, but-” Kix starts, and Rex smiles .
“So her name is Ca’tra? That's a great name.”
Kix sputters, and Miik gets it, suddenly. “Oh my gosh!” he says, excitedly, mischievously. “ Kix. You like her, right?”
“No! No, shh, Miik, I told you to be quiet.” Kix’s skin looks red , which Miik thinks happens when humans get embarrassed. “Rex, come on. I'm not… She's a patient , Rex, she's vulnerable and I'm not-”
“I never said you were gonna do anything stupid, Kix,” Rex says, giving Miik a smile and a wink. (Miik still finds the Captain intimidating; the other soldiers are nice though, and it seems like Rex probably is too.) “But it’s obvious you’re a goner, vod .”
“Shut up,” Kix grumbles, and Miik glances at Ahsoka when she snorts a small laugh.
“She’s nice,” Miik says frankly, pulling his knees up to his chest. “I like her.”
“That’s nice, vaar’ika ,” Kix says, still redder than normal. Humans are so weird . Miik likes them.
Rex reaches over and scratches Miik’s head, behind his ears, and that’s annoying , not him, too- except Miik doesn’t quite mean to, but he tilts his head closer to Rex, wrinkles his nose to show he still doesn’t approve. “Why is everyone so upset?” he asks, quietly, frowning. “It feels… It doesn’t feel good in here.”
Rex sighs, shrugs, stops scratching Miik’s head (which annoys him more because sure, it’s dumb all the humans do that, but it’s still nice ), and stretches a little. “We had a big fight, kid. Sh- Stuff went wrong. And people got hurt.”
“Hm.” Miik pokes at the scratchy material of his pants with one claw, thinks about that. He thinks a lot of things go wrong around here. His papa says that’s how war is. Sighing and pulling both his bread and his carved Loth-wolf out of his pocket, he tears off half the bread to hand to Ahsoka and starts eating the remaining piece. “Wish that happened less.”
~~~
Kix watches as Ahsoka takes the bread from Miik’s hand, smiles a little at the boy and says, “Thanks, Miik.” She seems to relax a little around him, which is good--he’ll have to remember that--especially when Miik starts rambling about loth-wolves, showing off the carving. Ahsoka is… she looks a little uncomfortable, feels that way too, but she’s listening, and she seems alert.
Hm. Perhaps it’d be a good idea to have Miik come visit her more often.
Rex is still smirking at him, and Kix tries valiantly to ignore his Captain. Okay, so yes, Ca’tra is sweet, and clever, and yes he’s noticed the way her eyes light up when she smiles, but that’s not the point. He’s not--she’s vulnerable, for kriff’s sake, he’d never take advantage of her like that, he--the Captain is silently laughing at him.
“Kriff you, sir,” Kix mutters, after glancing down to make sure Miik’s too busy telling Ahsoka about Akaan to listen.
“Relax, Kix,” Rex says, and at least he’s (mostly) stopped smirking, though his eyes are far too bright and mischievous for Kix’s comfort. “It’s cute, and I think she smiled more at you in the last five minutes than she has since I’ve been here.”
Which is, again, not the kriffing point. “That’s not--I just know how to talk to her, that’s all,” and kriffing hells that sounds like a pathetic excuse. But it’s not an excuse. Honestly.
“Kix,” and that’s Ahsoka, a hand on Miik’s shoulder to hush him, “did you mean to form a Force bond with anyone?” Her voice is a bit rough, and she’s quieter than usual, but at least she’s interacting.
He blinks. “I--what?” A kriffing Force bond? Why would he do that? “No?”
She almost laughs--he can see a bit of a sparkle in her eyes, and that’s good, that’s an improvement, even if it is at his expense. “Well, you’ve bonded with,” and she frowns a little, concentrating, and then she does laugh. “Your friend over there--I should’ve recognized it,” and kriff it now she’s grinning at him.
Kix wants to swear, barely manages to restrain himself. Because kriff. He did not mean to do that, doesn’t even know how-- and then he thinks of Ca’tra grabbing onto his mind, hard, thinks of himself surrounding her thoughts with Light and warmth. (Rex is grinning again, and why does he even try, seriously.) He needs to fix this, no matter that he… well, he likes being able to hear her. But that isn’t important, that doesn’t matter, it’s a breach of trust and her trust is infinitely more important than hearing her thoughts.
He needs to check on Echo, really needs to talk to Ca’tra about this, so he fixes Ahsoka with a stern glare. “Stay in bed, Commander, and watch the vaar’ika.” He ignores Miik’s grumble, adds, “I have shit--I mean, stuff. I have stuff to get done.”
~~~
Miik watches Kix go a little grumpily, then settles back more on the bunk and fiddles with his wolf. His bread is gone already, and he wants to go get more food to keep in his pocket, but Rex sits down on the bunk by him and Ahsoka and raises an eyebrow. “So you were saying Akaan gave you that?”
“Yeah.” Miik turns the tiny carving over in his fingers. “I want more of these, they’re cool. I want him to teach me how, actually.”
“You with a knife sounds like a bad idea,” Rex says dryly, but Ahsoka is smiling a little so maybe she’ll be on his side. Miik turns and gives her a pleading look, maybe overdoes it a little. Ahsoka leans into Rex, and Miik sees her headtails move a little. He can’t figure her out at all , humans are hard but whatever Ahsoka is is a lot harder.
“It wouldn’t be, it would be awesome ,” he insists, and both of them grin like he’s said something funny. Unfair.
“I don’t trust Akaan to teach you that kind of thing,” Rex says. “He’s not careful.”
Miik grumbles under his breath, rubs his thumb over the wolf’s ears. “What do you know, anyway?” Which is not the right thing to say, Papa always tells him to not talk like that, and he hisses a little and pins his ears back. “Sorry.”
Rex laughs at him, too loud, and Miik tightens his ears back against his head, makes a face. The Captain starts scratching his head again and that is not fair. “You’re fine, vaar’ika . Maybe we can talk to Akaan about it, he might like that.”
Ahsoka’s expression is sort of disbelieving, but Miik just crows happily and jumps off the bunk to go ask Akaan now - except oh yeah, he was supposed to be quiet and stay with Ahsoka. Blast. He turns around, sheepishly, and climbs back onto the bunk, crosses his arms. “That would be cool,” he says, and Rex smirks at him behind Ahsoka’s head (because she still kind of looks like she doesn’t approve). Miik gets more comfortable (although it’s hard in the stupid scratchy clothes the humans gave him) and huffs out a breath. He is hungry, and he wants to see who Echo is and then go learn how to carve things. This is kind of okay though, too.
~~~
The medbay’s lights dim as shiptime gets closer to night; it’s instinctive for Ca’tra to mark the passing hours by the way the light changes. The--Dooku had used a similar method to keep her body’s rhythms accurate when she spent long periods of time on Mustafar. So she knows it’s evening--she just doesn’t particularly care, or she does, but she doesn’t want it to get dark again. When it’s dark the shadows get thicker and choking and it’s hard to remember she’s not on Mustafar anymore, she’s not with Dooku anymore.
She’s unused to being forced to spend so much time stationary; on Mustafar, she’d always been able to train with her lightsaber or wander the complex (usually) or ‘talk’ to the holocrons, even during the times when Dooku spent weeks offworld, doing… stuff. Even with her rope, and her knots, she’s still restless, and she huffs out a tired sigh, flops dramatically back onto her pillow and drops the rope. The room is too small and too loud and it’s getting dark and she wants to be not here. Except Kix is here, which means it’s safest here (she’d be safe with Elle, too, but she’s not sure where her ori’vod is), so she needs to be here.
But she’s bored.
“Restless?”
Ca’tra jolts, jerking back upright before she realizes it’s Kix, standing casually a meter or so from her bunk. He looks sheepish, grimaces a bit. “Sorry, my bad.”
She hadn’t even noticed him come over. Only a day--ish?--in something like safety and her instincts are already rusting. Not good. She huffs out an irritated sigh, feels around the bunk until she finds her rope again and grabs it, picks at the knot to undo it. Doesn’t quite look at him. I don’t like sitting here, she finally tells him, careful, quiet, grumbles inarticulately at the knot. It’s stuck. Stupid thing. She concentrates, tugs on the piece of rope, hard-- and the knot finally comes a little loose, but her fingers slip and catch and the bandages keeping her fingers from rubbing raw and bloody rip off. Oh, shavit, she snaps to herself, frustrated, tugs her knees up to her chest and drops the rope off to one side.
She didn’t really want to mess with it anyway.
~~~
Kix tries not to smile too much, also tries not to notice how her nose scrunches up when she frowns. You should be more careful , he thinks, taking a step or two closer. Can I fix the bandages for you?
Ca’tra makes a face but nods. Yeah .
Kix takes the last few steps over to her bunk, sends an impression of what he’s going to do before tentatively sitting down at the very edge of her bunk and digging into his medpac for new bandages. Ca’tra holds out her hands so he can reach them,and he unwraps the few bandages that didn't come totally loose yet.
He's not sure how he's supposed to explain about the bond - at least Rex and Ahsoka know each other, had known each other, so for them to have a bond, it worked out fine. But he’s known Ca’tra for only about a day, and she's been in hell for, apparently, years, and for all he knows she'll see it as a breach of trust and he can't help her if she does.
He sighs a little to himself, and carefully, quickly wraps her fingers up again (since she seems to need to be able to keep fiddling with her rope). It's his turn to avoid eye contact, even after he finishes his task and puts the bandages away in his medpac; it's easier to just focus on keeping his hands steady and to peer at the floor like it interests him. Which it does not. He just doesn't know how to bring this up.
Kix? He thinks Ca’tra can tell he's uncomfortable, which is… difficult.
Sorry, he says, looks up at her, catches her eyes long enough to smile. I'm… He just stops a series of impressions from projecting, picks specific words instead. I realized there's a… For kriff’s sake, he doesn't know what he's doing. He reaches for the Light, feels the Force hum in amusement. It's not funny , he tells it. This is the opposite of funny .
Little one, it's simple .
The things you think are simple usually aren't, Kix snaps.
The Force just hums a little more, gives him more of the Light and calm.
Sorry, he says again. I think I made a mistake, I don't know how, and now there's a… it's called a Force bond, between our minds. And I guess… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, but our minds are connected now and I don't know how it happened. He tries to stem the flow of thoughts because he's getting ahead of himself and he's worried . He doesn't want to scare her with that because people's minds are meant to be their own and he doesn't want to push where he doesn't belong.
~~~
Ca’tra has never heard of a Force bond before, but she thinks it sounds fairly simple. Kix seems… worried, and she studies him for a moment, the way he’s almost hunched over his knees, doesn’t want to look at her.
She guesses, from the bits of information she can glean from his surface thoughts regarding the nature of a Force bond, that the way she’d reached out to him as the only safe thing probably had something to do with it; she thinks the idea of someone having a connection to her head like that should be scary, and a part of her thinks it is. And she’s… apprehensive, for sure, because that’s a lot, and close, and yet…
And yet she thinks she likes being able to feel him, to know she’s not alone in the dark (or the Dark). You said, if I asked you to stop listening, you would, she ventures, hesitant, feels immediate agreement. So… so I think that’s fine, then. Because you’re telling the truth. She can feel that. And--I can’t feel the Light by myself, she admits, looks down at her knees.
It’s not that she’s not worried, not unsure, because she is those things. But she wants the warmth and peace of the Light, and she likes being heard, she likes that Kix thinks she’s clever, because that means she’s not just silent. So many people have ignored her, talked down to her, like they think just because she doesn’t speak she’s stupid. And she’s not. At least, she doesn’t think she is, and she knows Elle doesn’t think she is. And Kix called her mirdala, clever, smart. Because he can hear her, because he listens. And she likes that.
So she thinks, though she’s not totally sure about it, she thinks maybe this is good.
She tries to project that impression to Kix, but she’s not sure how well she succeeds.
~~~
Ca’tra feels nervous, but she isn't flinching away from him or blocking him out, and Kix thinks that's good. It's okay, it's all turning out okay for now. He'll have to be very careful, but he can do that. He leans back a little, smiles at her, projects a promise not to pry where she doesn't want him.
Kix, she thinks, after a moment, and she feels hesitant, Can you… can you give me the Light again? And she'd said she couldn't reach for it herself, so Kix smiles and nods, reaches for the Light and eases it into her mind again and around her in the ambient Force.
She sighs a little, sends thanks , and Kix does as he'd done the night before and eases the Light over the rest of his patients, feels everything settle soft and warm and calm. He senses Ahsoka get less icy, Echo actually start drifting toward sleep, some of the badly injured POWs get more comfortable. This is good, he thinks, this is why he likes the Light so much. It's warm and bright and it heals things. Ca’tra projects agreement with that train of thought, and Kix sighs quietly.
This is all going to be okay. They'll figure it out. The Light hums purpose and Kix nods a little to himself. This is good.
Fin