Work Text:
♪ Touching him was like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you ♪
Kallus had half expected Zeb to leave him for dead the moment he was weakened. He supposed it’s what he would’ve done if the roles were reversed, he assured himself. But here they were, no longer fighting because of the standstill, or maybe because they had no pretenses to uphold to an audience, in the cold and dark of a moon neither of them had intended to crash land on.
When Kallus’ leg broke, he believed Zeb would strike the final blow, get rid of him once and for all, ending the everlasting and unfinished battle between them. As Zeb reached for the agent’s bo-rifle, he took his cue and knew he was done for. It was quite bittersweet and deserved in some way that he would use the weapon of his people that Kallus had ‘stolen’. Kallus flinched and closed his eyes, bracing himself, thanking the Lasat deep down for letting it be quick and as merciful as he deserved.
He opens his eyes slowly, lime green looking back at him.
“Hey, what was that, huh?” Zeb inquired as he lifted the weapon and ripped some cloth off his shirt, exposing a strip of his paler abdomen, taut as he focused on looping the fabric through it.
Kallus went red; “Nothing, I’m tired that’s all,” he replied with a breath.
“Are you concussed?” Zeb asked again. “Don’t pass out on me and leave me here alone, we don’t know what could be lurking in the shadows.” He sounded nervous even as he tried to project a cool-headedness.
“I’m okay, I promise.” Kallus told him. “Just a bruised ego and a broken leg.” He tried to add a joke to ease the tension that mostly radiated from him.
He felt relieved, of course, that Zeb had no intention of hurting him but actually showed concern for his well being. But he also felt bad for some reason. Bad because he had yet again expected aggression from someone he had only ever antagonised or challenged in battle, someone whose nature seemed to be kind and caring. Kallus always did think in black and white, life and death, right and wrong. It's how the academy trained him, what his superiors told him to be, what the Empire wanted him to be. But what did he want?
He moved closer to the larger man, instinctively, without even knowing what he intended.
Zeb took hold of his leg, and the movement triggered a sharp pain.
“Ow!” Kallus exclaimed, surprised. The pain hadn’t been this bad since it broke on landing, and with his head swimming with the idea of being alone with Zeb till they were saved, he forgot he had an injury to worry about too. Although he wasn't worried as much as hesitant.
What was going to happen between them? Now he knew Zeb had the dignity of not striking a wounded man down- there he goes again, assuming he’s just waiting for an opportunity for a fair fight. Now he knew Zeb didn’t have any ill intentions, were they going to sit together and hope someone responded to their beacon, were they going to sit here and die. Did Kallus deserve to die with someone he had considered his enemy, someone he had made his life’s mission to defeat. Could he still make peace with someone who would never be at peace due to him.
Kallus was well trained and could keep his head in any stressful setting, could withstand torture, but now there were no Imperials around, it’s like he lost his resolve. He felt like his true self, the one that woke up in a dark room every morning and had to prepare himself for the day ahead. The one that closed the light every night before he slept, that being the last warmth he felt. The one that looked out at the stars every day from his office and felt alone, knowing in the vast expanse of the universe, some of those lights he sees are already dead.
“Look, I’m sorry-” Zeb said in a muted voice, as if he was trying to be softer, taking the
bo-rifle and wrapping it around Kallus’ broken leg. “I just need to splint your leg so it can heal, tell me if it doesn’t feel right. I’m not known for being delicate,” he continued, lifting Zeb’s leg onto his as he crouched down. His hand cradling and almost covering the circumference of his thigh.
Kallus blushed, he didn’t know why. "Thank you, again," he responded. "I hadn't even thought of that, it's like my brain fell out of the escape pod and landed somewhere else." All he could think of was dying here. No one knew they were here, he didn't think anyone would care for him, the Empire wouldn't miss him if he were another statistic, killed in action. They train hundreds to be in the same position and reach the same targets, they were all always small cogs in a machine. He sighed.
Zeb looked up from his work and stared at him. "Yeah, along with your good looks." He smiled a little. "Your hair looks like an absolute mess, I knew it was all product and you were one of those people that spend hours in front of the mirror." He said as he tied and finished the splint.
Kallus laughed. He didn't know if he was being teased or if he was trying to cheer him up. How did he know? Was his existentialism that obvious or Kriff- was he force-sensitive? Who knew how many of the crew had different abilities. No, it couldn't be, he'd be able to tell, he thought. And then he wondered why he thought he'd know these intricacies about Zeb. He shook his head to snap out of it. Maybe he was concussed?
"Sorry my hair lost its gravity defying abilities when we almost died," he quipped. "Please recommend your routine- wait do you have to do your whole body?”
Zeb actually laughed this time, full and loud. Kallus didn’t even mean to be funny, he was just thinking out loud, inhibition free. The laugh stirred something in him, he hadn't realised they were in an abyss of sorts, in the vast darkness that enveloped them. But the echo of the laugh, no matter how beautiful, had reminded him and told him to seek warmth and safety in it. He shifted closer. Zeb either didn't notice or didn't mind.
"Some of us are born this way." Zeb punctuated with mischief in his voice. He was still holding onto his leg even though he finished the splint a while ago. "And I’m not even going to dignify that with a response." He chuckled.
Wind blew past them and Kallus shivered, “God, it’s cold. Do you think we’re going to freeze to death, get eaten by something or just be forgotten and die.”
Zeb screwed his face and moved his leg back down gently, getting up to search for something. He returned after walking around the cave with a glowing golden rock that emitted heat. The brightness actually hurt his eyes, so pure and sedating in a way.
“What is that?” Kallus asked, running his fingers along it. It looked like it should be molten hot, feel like the surface of the sun, but it’s a dimmed heat that spreads to his arm and body.
“I have no idea, but it can keep you warm. I won’t let you die on me.” He replied. It’s awfully kind and vulnerable.
Kallus hugged the rock, his muscles seemed to loosen; he hadn’t realised how tense and cold he was, he- they were castaways fighting against a storm and his broken leg. He looked back at Zeb, the wind had tousled his facial hair, he looked fresh out of bed. He took in more of his appearance and his eyes fell back to his middle, bare.
“Oh, god. Are you cold?” He felt so dreadful. There Zeb was hunched over, ears standing up, with much less clothes than him. He took the amber rock and placed it in Zeb’s hands, enveloping his own hands in his to close them tight. “Please, warm up, I ruined your shirt- I can’t believe I just assumed you weren’t as cold because you have fur.” He said sheepishly.
“It’s ok,” Zeb thanked him. “This is a stylistic choice, my fur is very thick so I’m handling this storm much better than you.” He looked at the tiny man. Like a hallucination he heard him say “Come closer, we can huddle around the rock.”
He questioned if it was for his own benefit or Kallus’? Zeb would be okay without the rock for a while, but the cold and wind would become more and more unbearable until it was fatal. But Kallus was so small and exposed, he would need more than this tiny orb that paled in comparison to a flame, and he didn’t want to take it away from the Lasat. So of course the next logical step was to huddle around it together. He had to stop looking into everything so deeply.
He shuffled to Zeb’s side as best he could without disturbing his leg, no more than an inch apart. Zeb supported his arm as he moved and then rested it next to his body, leaning Kallus closer to the rock and himself.
“Thank you again,” Kallus said, wanting to give something back, but he had nothing. All he had to say were iterations of thanks.
He should use his words to show appreciation, he should do something. From the moment they crashed, Zeb had only been gracious and Kallus didn’t know how to react to that. Why had he been so good to him when nothing in Kallus’ past or present deserved that. Now they were probably going to die here and it was his fault, as always, for being combative.
“It’s more of a comfort isn’t it? Hope...” Zeb suddenly spoke. “Something to hold on to, someone to be near to remind yourself you’re alive in the pull of a derelict shadow.” He went on, looking up at the dark sky. “All while wishing you won't die alone and forgotten on an alone and forgotten moon of a planet whose people were alone and forgotten as they died out.”
Kallus was taken aback at the openness. The guardsman hadn’t shown any outward fearful emotions, he always seemed levelheaded about their condition. Was he reminded of Lasan? Was he feeling the same hopelessness and calamity? Kallus didn’t know what to do to help him, he knew the feeling all too well; it would grab him by the ankle and drag him down anytime he tried to swim against it for air. It was heartbreaking and he was complicit in that.
They were praying someone would come for them, they were putting all their hope in other people, wanting someone to want to save them besides themselves. They could be there for each other. Zeb unequivocally was for Kallus, in his darkest moments on this icy moon, wanting nothing in return, caring not for their past or present. Because he saw a man in need and he was a warmhearted man. Not what his rank makes him, not what his past makes him, not what their grievances make them.
Kallus moved his hand to Zeb’s face, “We’ll be okay, Garazeb.” He moved it so they faced each other, moving his hands back to intertwine theirs. He can see the worry in the Lasat’s face now, clear as day. “I promise.” He added, with determination he’s never before had in his life. He knows it, it has to be true. Not for him but for Zeb, who’s looking at him with a tenderness he wants to protect like he would do for him if their roles were reversed.
He knows Zeb wants to challenge it, that he’s not sure in himself to have enough faith to believe something good will happen for him. Kallus squeezed his hands, his own dwarfing Zeb’s, but he had a purpose, and God if that hadn’t given him a strength he never had or needed till he someone’s face mirrored in his, that might have always meant the world.
He changed the subject before Zeb’s became overwhelmed by his anxieties. “Come, let’s cuddle for warmth.” He’s embarrassed by the word but he didn’t care. He moved himself and Zeb to lie down against each other, putting the orb between them for its dwindling warmness.
“Geonosis is actually beautiful from here.” Zeb remarked, looking out into the horizon. “To think I never would’ve seen this view or known this moon in my lifetime.”
“It is beautiful,” Kallus replied, looking at Zeb’s wistful face.
There’s no knowing how long it might take for a rescue ship to come, or if one will come at all. But Kallus wanted to keep this peaceful atmosphere for Zeb. He seemed to have forgotten about any impending doom.
“You should sleep,” Kallus speaks in a faint voice, running his hands against Zeb’s head, the fur caught in his fingers. Zeb is about to protest. “Who knows how long it will take for someone to come get us and I’m so filled with adrenaline from my injury, I won’t be falling asleep anytime soon.”
“But what-” Zeb was cut off.
“You need your strength in case anything happens, you’ll have to piggyback me and fight or run” Kallus rationalises while joking, trying to keep Zeb light. “Plus, I have a literal blaster tied to my leg. Talk about ultimate augmentation. I can keep us safe while you snooze” He adds.
Zeb’s face softens, “Ok, but only a short nap,” he concedes.
Kallus smiled on the inside, pleased he’s found a way to keep Zeb safe and relaxed. He’ll be able to deal with whatever comes or doesn’t. He’s well trained and could keep his head in any stressful setting, could withstand torture, could defy death for Zeb.
“Wait,” Zeb interjects his thoughts, “What if it’s the Empire that comes?” He asks fretfully. “What will happen to me?”
“Nothing at all.” Kallus replies, absolutely. “Nothing will become of you if my people- no, if the Empire comes.” He will get him off this moon to safety, he will play along with whatever they want, but no harm will come to him at all. Not if his life depends on it.
Again, even in Zeb’s vulnerable moment, Kallus understands he never had to ask the same question of him because no harm would ever come to him if the Rebels arrived first. It wasn’t in Zeb to do that. Not because the roles might be reversed or they were in an apparent standstill or Kallus was weakened. Zeb said he wasn’t known for being delicate despite that being all he ever showed to him.
What was Kallus telling himself? That he had left the Empire behind? That he was a Rebel now? No. But he knew that to the empire; his feelings had never mattered, he was never a real person, he had never been shown a single emotion. And he wanted that, he wanted more, he didn’t want to be like them.
He moved and sat up so his back lay against the cave, Zeb beneath him. “You don’t have to worry with me.” He tried to put his feelings into his words. Gratitude, care, affection, responsibility, debt. “I’ve got you.”
He ran his hand over his hair, it truly was a mess, and he tried to calm something in him, like his body has come to an understanding his heart won't share with his mind.
He bent and kissed him on the forehead. A softness he’s never felt before, the kiss lingers, he doesn’t want to let go, but after a few seconds he does. Looking at Zeb, he thought he might cry, it’s overwhelming to feel an emotion that has no words or description, just a feeling of warmth, eclipsing the golden orb, a flame, the sun.
“Goodnight.” He said, trying to find words. He cradled the man’s head in his lap and looked out into the horizon; the view really is beautiful. Zeb looked at peace and closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling gently. The quiet isn’t ominous anymore, but kind.
To think he never would’ve seen this side of himself or known Zeb like this in his lifetime.
♪ Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met. ♪