Work Text:
It had been said that time heals all wounds. And you found yourself hoping against all hope that this would be true for you as well. However, today was not that day. You stumbled out of your bed and into the small living area of the room you had rented on Ord Mantell. Unfortunately, you had overslept and now only had twenty minutes to prep for your job at Cid’s parlor. As you sipped a hastily brewed cup of caf, you idlily wondered what your former master would think of you now. She had taken such pride in your academic and scientific achievements to know that you were now nothing more than a server in a seedy bar would certainly disappoint her. She had always been one to hold those around her to high standards.
A sharp pain in your side, however, reminded you of just how ridiculous this line of thought was. You looked down at where the jagged scar now sliced across your mid-section, both hating its presence and grateful that it meant you had survived the attempted annihilation of your people. You still had no idea why the clones of your beloved squad had turned against you that fateful day, nearly six months ago. But you were grateful to have escaped with your life, as badly injured as you had been.
Once your caf was finished, you hastily ate a ration bar, threw on some clothes, and tossed your hair into a bun. Tugging on your boots, you poured some food into a bowl by your back window. You were most definitely hoping to lure the stray tooka that sometimes came to your back porch into being a more permanent companion for yourself. Once these tasks were completed, you pulled on a jacket and walked the short distance to the parlor.
Cid, of course, was nowhere to be seen, so you began the opening checklist of tasks on your own. After two months on the job, you were able to do everything almost without thought and so had begun to listen to data files on your earset to keep yourself mentally stimulated. Anything to keep from losing your mind after the last few months.
After about twenty minutes, Cid came into the bar and told you that she would look after the counter for a few minutes. She needed you to run down to the local market and pick up a couple of things for her personal use. Though the task felt a bit like personal servitude, which you found distasteful, you could not ignore that she slipped a couple of extra credits into the payment she handed you. You knew the Trandosian woman would never thank you outright, but you appreciated the small gestures she threw your way every now and again. Without complaint, you put your coat back on and head out into the dimming streets.
It only took you about thirty minutes to complete the errands, and you were hastily on your way back to the parlor. As you approached the door, a wave hit you in the Force that you had never expected to feel again. Immediately, you knew that there were Clones in the parlor, and you felt panic rise into your throat. An incredibly strong force signature hit yours in the chaos, and you immediately began to hyperventilate. Hunter, you thought. How cruel that the Empire would send you of all people to hunt me down.
Your vision completely blurred as your heart rate skyrocketed. Pain shot through your chest, and your found yourself unable to move beyond the entrance of the parlor. In the back of your mind, you thought you heard a familiar voice calling your name, but you could not identify the source before you blacked out.
You came to in a booth in the back corner of Cid’s parlor. It was suspiciously empty for this time of night. Only a couple of regulars were sitting at the bar, and Cid was tending to them. It took just a second of consciousness for the strong force signature of Hunter to hit you once again, and you swirled to your side to see him sitting a respectable distance away. You crawled as far away from him as you could, but your back hit the wall before you could gain much more space from him.
“Cyare,” his voice broke. Beloved. The familiar nickname made your heart constrict.
“Stay away from me,” you choked out. “I don’t know whose idea of a cruel joke this is, but please just kill me or go away.”
“I’m not here to kill you,” he stated calmly. “But I know why you think that. I didn’t execute the order. None of us here did. We don’t know why the regs did that to the Jedi.”
“You didn’t….” you whispered. “How can I know you’re telling me the truth?”
“Because you’re here. Because I didn’t kill you while you were passed out. Because I know you can sense that I’m being honest. Because I’ll spend the rest of my life proving you’re safe with me, if you’ll only give me the chance.” His voice was choking on his words as he continued to speak. “Because I thought you were dead for the past six months, and I could barely find the strength to keep going.”
Sobs broke out of you as you felt the Force shift around you both. You knew, deep down he was telling the truth. You should have known all along. Of course your Hunter never would have executed such a barbaric order. Of course he would spend eternity making sure you felt safe and secure in his presence again.
You patted the edge of the booth, and he came to sit precariously on the end of the seat. You took his hand in yours and leaned a little bit closer to him. “I believe you,” you whispered. “I can feel it in the Force. You’re telling me the truth.”
“I would never, ever lie to you, cyare,” he whispered back. He tentatively leaned his forehead into yours, a soft kedable that you knew meant so much to him.
“Hold me,” you murmured. “I just need to be with you now.” He wrapped his arms around you, and you weren’t sure if he was ever going to let you out of his sight again.
A few weeks later, having quit your bartending job at Cid’s and now joining Hunter and his squad on their various misadventures, you found yourself back in Cid’s parlor. Hunter and his brothers were settling something with her in the back office while you sat in the main bar, resting your injured leg. You knew Hunter was going to be on you again for trying to push your body too hard, but that was a conversation that you would need to have in private later.
A blaster bolt rang out into the wall behind you, and you instinctively jumped over the bar and dove for cover behind it. Within seconds, Hunter and his brothers burst out of the office. Tech and Echo sought out the source of the commotion, but Hunter’s eyes immediately went to the seat you had just vacated. Panic flooded the air around him as he realized you were not sitting there. You hurriedly rounded the bar and placed your hand on his arm. “I’m here,” you whispered. “Just taking cover.”
He said nothing but protectively encased you in his armored embrace. Gently, he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. You felt some tension release itself from his body.
“Rex?” his voice rang out finally, after which Cid went on another of her typical rants about Clones. Hunter squeezed your arm in a way that told you to drop the subject for now. You sighed but let him have his way this once.
Rex began to fill the squad in about his various travels following order 66. He seemed just as happy as the squad had been to see you alive. Though you hadn’t worked much together during the war, you had occasionally crossed paths and knew him to be a strong and capable soldier.
You let their conversation fade mostly into background noise, concentrating on grounding yourself in the force.
“You’re telling me, you haven’t removed your chips?” Rex’s voice growled out.
“Rex,” Hunter was saying, “You need to calm down.”
“What’s in your head is more dangerous than you can imagine. If it activates, you’ll kill everyone around you that you think is a traitor. She will be first on your target list, and you won’t be able to control it. Trust me, I couldn’t. I almost killed one of my closest friends.”
Hunter took a step back from where he had been nearly glued to your side. You reached for him, but he shook his head softly. You frowned at him.
“How do we remove them?” Hunter asked quietly.
“Give me some time. I’ll be in touch.”
Rex turned to leave. “Wait,” Hunter called. “Take her with you.” He motioned in your direction.
“Hunter, no,” you cried out. “I’m not leaving you.” You reached to grab for his arms.
He let you take hold of him, and he stepped a little bit closer into your space. He gently dropped his forehead onto yours, and he let his hair fall into your own. It wasn’t much but it created an illusion of privacy that you appreciated.
“Cyare,” he whispered, so low that you could barely hear him. “I promised you when I got you back that you would always be safe with me. If these chips can really do everything Rex says they can, I might not be able to keep that promise. You’re not safe with me right now, and I can’t allow that.” His eyes were filling with tears, and your heart was clenching in panic and pain.
“But I just got you back,” you murmured in weak protest. Your own eyes welling up too. “I don’t want to lose you again, not even for a moment.”
“I know, cyare. I know. I just can’t risk it. I can’t be the reason you’re hurt or worse. Please, just go with him. It will only be for a few rotations until we get the chips out. Then I’ll never leave you again of my own volition.”
You sighed, knowing he was right. He was always right. Your devastatingly handsome man and his annoying penchant for always, always being right.
“Okay,” you relented. “I’ll go. Under protest. And with the caveat that you will not sidebar from this mission until it’s completed.”
He pressed a quick yet passionate kiss to your lips. “I promise you, cyare, that I won’t rest until this chip is out of my head. You will always be safe with me, I promise.”
You pulled back ever so slightly and nodded. “I’m going to hold you too that, Hunter,” you whispered.
He squeezed your hands. “I’m good for it,” he replied.
And without another word, you stood. He handed you the backpack with your gear that you hadn’t even unpacked from your last mission. And without a look back so as not to lose your resolve, you turned and followed Rex out of the parlor.