Chapter Text
Mara wakes up slowly, her head feels like it’s wrapped in itchy fabric, her tongue is heavy and lips dry, and her eyes are crusty. She can feel gummy bacta spread across her lips and shoulder. There’s a hand brushing through her short hair, and a weight across her stomach, a familiar melody from her childhood being hummed reaches her ears; it draws her further into consciousness, and Mara blinks her eyes open.
“Mama?” She murmurs, studying the white ceiling above her, listening to the beeping of medical equipment, before turning her head to meet her mother’s eyes, savouring the feeling of her mother’s fingers in her hair, chasing away the memories of the Third Brother’s touches. Her màthair looks older than she had a month ago, exhausted and gray, with heavy bags under her eyes and noticeably thinner than she had been. A quick roll of her head lets Mara see that the weight on her abdomen was her buir - he was asleep and disheveled, one arm pillowing his head and the other stretched out across her, like if he let go of her she’d disappear.
“Oh, dear heart.” Her mother sighs, eyes crinkling into a weak smile as she leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead, and Mara sniffles, feeling her tears rise and her throat clog up as she fights to lift one of her heavy arms to grope blindly for her mother’s hand. “My little girl.” The older woman mumbles softly, taking her smaller hand in her own and squeezing it. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Mara doesn’t bother trying to blink away her tears, sniffles turning into choked hiccups, “What d’you know?”
“Only what Trapper, Thire, and Odd Ball told me.” Her màthair tells her, “That you led them to Odd Ball, and caught the attention of an Inquisitor. They didn’t have much information about what happened, but Odd Ball said that, that… demagolka kept touching you.” She frowns, squeezing Mara’s hand again as her fingers trace where Mara knows the Third Brother had bitten her. “Your father nearly had to be sedated to stop him from recruiting the vod’e to level the Academy.”
“Would have ripped off his arms with my bare hands.” Comes her father’s mumble as he wakes up, blinking groggy golden eyes at her, and Mara sobs. Her buir ’s warm hands come up to cup her face, his soothing voice washing over her as his thumbs wipe away her tears. “It’s alright, ad’ika , your Buir is here. He won’t touch you again, not without going through me first, and then he’d find himself face to face with the rest of our aliit .”
“I’m sorry.” Mara warbles, “I wasn’t good enough. You were right, I wasn’t ready - wasn’t cut out for it.”
“No, dinui .” Her buir soothes, “You did well, you got them all out.”
“Not Wooley.” She sobs, remembering her uncle’s empty eyes and bloody lips.
“No, Mara, you did get him out.” He promises, “He’s with family now, he died free , for what he believed in.”
Mara remembers Wooley barrelling into her side, throwing her towards Trapper, and comes to the horrible realization that it should have been her . He was shot pushing her out of the way, helping her keep her promise to get back to her parents alive.
He had been shot by Kieral - that had been why the Imperial cadet had looked so shocked.
“He died because of me.” Mara hiccups, turning wide, tearful eyes to her parents. “Because I was being stupid. Why would I ever think that Kieral and Alexi would come - the Empire is their whole life, but I wanted them to.”
“Choice is important to us clones.” Her buir says gently, “And he chose to save you.”
“And there’s nothing stupid about wanting to help people.” Her màthair adds, and Mara can feel her soothing mental touch on her mind, supporting her tattered shields - the shields the Third Brother had battered his way through, and she can feel a piece of him left behind, and it drives any other thoughts from her head when she realizes what it is.
Mara’s terrified eyes meet her mother’s, “I can feel him in my head. The Sith.” Her mother frowns, and Mara can see the smothered anger lighting her pale eyes.
“May I?” She says, gently laying her hands on either side of Mara’s temples, and the teenager nods, feeling her father take her hand in support. Her mother’s eyes close, and Mara can feel her gentle, loving presence in her mind, following the injured paths, healing what she can as she goes. Mara leans into the touch, closing her own eyes as she basks in her mother’s warmth as it fends of the cold, sick patch forced into her mind; she felt more than she saw her mother wince when the presence lashed out, trying desperately to cling on. She lets out a low, pained whine, tightening her grasp on her father’s hand, as the Third Brother’s presence writhes, his fury obvious as his hold on her mind is slowly and surely smothered by her mother’s mastery Force.
And finally, he’s gone, and Mara sags gratefully against her mother, shivering.
Her buir wraps his arms around the both of them, gathering them close to him, and she can feel the tickle of his beard against his forehead as she drifts off to sleep once more, comforted by the gentle arms around her. Her mother is humming again, warm fingers running through her air, and she can hear the rumble of her father’s voice joining hers, and against her mother’s soft tunic, Mara lets her tears fall as she falls asleep.