Work Text:
The cantina is as loud and chaotic as ever – laughter echoing over booming basslines, clinking glasses, and holoscreens flashing podraces on one wall and limmie scores on the other. It’s a cacophony of life.
There’s a woman by his side – beautiful, with long luscious hair, a body to die for and a smile that’s been flirting with him all night – but Fives hasn’t heard a word she’s said.
He’s staring at you.
And at his damn replacement.
You’re on the far side of the dancefloor, tucked into a booth with a Pantoran he vaguely recognizes from your division. Sergeant Something. Lieutenant Maybe. Whatever he is – he’s not good enough for you.
You’re laughing. That light, infectious laugh that always warms his heart. But this time, all Fives feels is a harsh, stabbing pain.
You shouldn’t be laughing at another man’s jokes.
You shouldn’t be perched on his lap like that.
You shouldn’t have moved on in just five minutes.
He’s on the edge of his seat, jaw clenched so hard it ticks. And one heartbeat from shoving through the crowd and getting his knuckles all bloody.
But he doesn’t.
You’re happy. You deserve to be happy.
And it’s his damn fault anyway.
He had you. He lost you.
What the hell was he thinking, letting you go?
You and Fives met about a year ago.
You were sprinting through the main base on Coruscant, late for a high-level briefing – which never happened. You were always on time. No – not on time. You were always early. Always presentable and professional.
But apparently, not this morning.
You turned a corner too fast – and slammed right into the broad, armored back of a trooper. The impact knocked you clean off your feet and flat onto the floor
"Whoa, easy," the man said, extending his gloved hand to you. "You alright?"
"Not really. My pride is irreversibly damaged," you winced, taking it.
The clone chuckled, effortlessly helping you to your feet. “You look like a strong woman. I think you'll pull through.”
“I fear you're overestimating me," you muttered with a wry smile.
"Not a chance, mesh'la. I'm an excellent judge of character," he boasted with a wide grin.
You blushed. You couldn't help it. And he noticed – it was evident in the smug look in his eyes.
You took a second to size him up. He was an ARC trooper, clad in the 501st blue. He had a goatee, and a small tattoo on his temple. Was that the number–
"Fives!" someone barked behind him. "Come on, we're late."
The clone rolled his eyes. "Coming, mom."
Another ARC trooper walked up – clean face, standard haircut, a handprint on his chestplate – and grabbed Fives' arm with an annoyed huff.
"Apologies, ma'am," he addressed you. "But we're late for a briefing. He can flirt with you after."
"Vod," Fives groaned. "Come on."
You chuckled. "Don't worry boys – the briefing won't start without me.” You lifted your datapad as proof. “I'm the one conducting it."
"Now, that's just unfair," Fives purred sweetly. "How am I supposed to focus on mission parameters with such a pretty face giving the orders?"
"Maker," the other ARC muttered under his breath, clearly unimpressed.
"You look like a strong man," you echoed his earlier line. "I'm sure you'll pull through."
Fives tilted his head, half-stunned and wholly smitten. You winked, then continued walking to the briefing room, the men falling in step behind you.
It passed quickly. And with his eyes on you the entire time. You couldn’t remember any clone trooper ever paying that much attention to you. Not like that.
As the room began to empty, he made his way back over. Didn’t even pretend to be subtle. And he wasted no time.
“Go out with me,” he said.
“You’re about to ship out,” you replied, raising a brow. “Shouldn’t you be thinking about something else?”
"Don't you want to give me a reason to come back?” he gasped, feigning offence. “That's cruel, mesh'la.”
"Maker." You turned to the other ARC – Echo, you'd later learn. "Is he always like this?"
"Yes," another exasperated voice answered – the Captain of the battalion.
"I'm not leaving until I get a yes," Fives declared, crossing his arms. "You should hurry – you're holding up the war effort."
You shook your head and laughed, then agreed and exchanged frequencies.
And that was the beginning.
He commed you the second his boots touched down on Coruscant, and you set up a nice, innocent caf date the next day.
And caf turned into a walk through the Cultural District.
Then dinner at a food stall in CoCo Town.
Then drinks at your place.
When he kissed you on your couch, you felt like you were floating.
And when he made you his in your bed that night, you already knew – you were in love.
After that, you were inseparable every time he was on-world. He spent nearly every night at your place. He introduced you to his brothers, proudly showing you off as if you were his biggest accomplishment. He said you were his home.
You leaned on him for support. You opened up in ways you’ve never had before. You let him see all of you – every messy, unguarded part.
He did the same.
You were the first person he came to after losing Echo.
He was at your door as soon as he could after he returned from Lola Sayu, and he practically collapsed into your arms. And you picked up the pieces of his broken heart for days.
But something changed after that dammed mission.
Fives started pulling back.
Subtly at first. His warmth dulled. His demeanour grew just a touch colder. He stopped talking to you like he used to – stopped leaning on you. And without realising, stopped offering you the support you needed too.
The coldness scared you. He was slipping through your fingers and you couldn’t do anything to stop it.
You tried. You showed him you were still there. You gave him signs that you were hurting. You clung to the smallest moments of joy, hoping it would be enough.
And then Umbara happened. And he came back a different man.
The rift between you was now even deeper, but when you tried to address it, all you were met with was a fight.
It was ugly.
Painful.
And finally, exhausted and defeated, you said maybe things needed to end. And in a moment of numbness, Fives didn’t fight for you.
In his mind, he was protecting you. He thought he couldn’t be the man you needed anymore. That he couldn’t make you happy. That walking away was the right thing to do. But when he walked out that door, he exiled you from the only home you’d ever known.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him staring – and it’s taking every ounce of your willpower not to look back.
You should focus on your date. He’s a good guy. Always polite. Funny.
Well… not as funny as Fives. But no one has ever made you laugh like he did.
No! Focus.
The Pantoran is sharing stories from his childhood. He’s talking about taking you to Pantora to show you his home. He sounds so hopeful. So sure of a future together.
Not that you can really hear him.
The weight of Fives’ glare is suffocating you.
He looks… almost offended. Like you’ve done something wrong.
But you’re not his problem anymore.
It took you days to be able to get out of bed after he walked away.
Weeks to feel somewhat alright again.
You’re not ready to be with another person – you know that. But you said yes to this date anyway. Hoping that maybe, somehow, you could will yourself to move on.
You really shouldn’t have agreed to come to the 79s though…
The war in your mind ends in defeat, and your eyes flick to Fives – just in time to see the beautiful woman he’s with place her hand on his inner thigh. She’s leaning closer, whispering something in his ear and glancing behind her to the ‘freshers.
Your stomach twists. Violently.
You need to get the hell out of there.
“I’ll be right back,” you blurt out, already standing.
Your co-worker freezes mid-sentence, a little stunned. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah – Yes, totally fine,” you lie, forcing a smile. “I drank that wine a little too fast. Need some air”
He starts to get up. “I’ll come with, in case you–”
“No, it’s fine,” you cut him off a little too quickly. “Stay here, I just need a minute.”
He looks concerned, but settles back into his seat and watches as you push your way through the crowds.
You slip out the side door.
The alley’s colder than expected, and there’s a draft flowing through, lightly ruffling your hair and the hem of your dress. It’s a welcome relief from the heat and noise of the cantina – even if the smell of the nearby dumpsters isn’t the most pleasant.
You lean back against the wall, let out a shaky breath. And allow the tears to fall.
Not even a minute passes before the door hisses open, and the familiar cadence of armored boots echoes through the alley. You’re both hoping and dreading that it’s him.
“Cyare…” he whispers.
You slowly open your eyes – and sure enough, Fives is standing right in front of you. Close enough to touch.
He looks gutted. Like a man who’s lost everything.
And his eyes – those beautiful, amber eyes. They’re still looking at you the same way. As if you’re a breath-taking sunrise. The only one worth waking up for.
It adds insult to injury.
You shake your head and quickly wipe away the tears. “I’m fine,” you mutter.
He steps closer. “I’m sorry.”
“You moved on, it’s fine.” You sidestep, trying to push past him.
But he stops you, catches both your hands in his.
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
You scoff, glancing toward the door. “That woman,” you reply dryly. “You shouldn’t keep her waiting. I’m fine.”
“She’s not the one ripping my heart right from my chest,” Fives says, his voice firm but strained.
You blink. His words are sharp. But strangely, they unearth the hope you thought you’d buried too deeply to ever resurface.
“He’s not good enough for you!” Fives snaps. He sucks in a breath, visibly trying to pull himself together before he continues. “He won’t care for you the way you need to be cared for.”
“And who would?” you shoot back, bitterness bubbling up. “You?”
“Yes!” Fives exclaims instantly, his voice full of desperation. “Yes, I will. Just give me another chance.”
“I gave you a hundred chances,” you cry, the ache flooding back in full force.
“I know,” he winces. “I know you did. And I fucked up. But please, mesh’la. Please. Let me try again.”
He's saying everything you once begged the stars to hear. All the dreams you tried to smother with logic and heartbreak. He’s pleading like your forgiveness is the only one that matters. But you’re still scared.
“I can’t go through that again, Fives,” you murmur, the words barely able to leave your lips. “I can’t feel like that again.”
His hands come up, gently cradling your face. His thumbs sweep away the tears before they can fall.
“You won’t,” he says. “I promise mesh’la, I will never make you feel like that again. I love you. I love you so much. I should’ve realised it sooner.”
Your breath catches. “You love me?”
“I love you,” he repeats. And he means it.
The smile that brightens your face is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“I love you too,” you confess.
Fives can’t help it – he leans in to brush your lips with his. It’s a small, tentative kiss. But it’s everything you’ve been dreaming about and more. When he starts to pull away, you chase him. Your lips find his again, and his grin is half triumphant, half disbelieving.
He has you again. And this time, he won’t let you go.
“Alright,” you breathe. “Let’s try again.”
He beams. “You won’t regret it, cyare.”
“I better not,” you laugh.
“I promise. I ship out tomorrow, but when I get back I’ll take you out. A proper date – you’ll see. I’m talking candlelight dinner, a romantic walk through the park. I’ll win you back,” he concludes with a wide grin.
“I can’t wait,” you reply, your smile as big as his. “Where are they sending you to this time?”
“Ringo Vinda. Should be two weeks, tops. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I’ll wait. Just come back, Fives,” you whisper.
“I will. I promise.” He takes your hand in his and kisses the back of your palm.
Then he leaves.
And you wait.
But he doesn’t keep his promise.