Work Text:
The sun, descending rapidly towards the ocean-crested horizon, glowed ferociously, crowning Omega with its visible warmth.
Wrecker watched her as she gazed out upon the vast ocean beyond their perch- one of many grey-brick walls surrounding Upper Pabu- her expression unreadable.
Following her gaze, he silently marvelled at the refracted reflection of the painted sky in the swell, the looming star just nearly breaking the surface of the water.
Wrecker internally debated interrupting their peaceful silence, the need to understand his sister’s inner turmoil warring with his yearn to allow the companionable serenity to continue, but his decision was made for him when he heard a gentle murmur from the vod at his side.
“I’m sorry it’s been a while,” she spoke, gaze still fixed in the direction of the lapping waves.
“Me too,” Wrecker sighed. It had been months since he’d last seen his sister, her free time few and far between ever since joining the Rebellion. She sent transmissions whenever she could, but it never felt often enough.
He turned to face her; noted a glimmer of sadness in her illuminated eyes. He draped his arm over her shoulder. Being a Rebel pilot was a dangerous occupation, and he couldn’t even pretend to know what the job entailed. Tech would be so proud of who she had become. He knew he was.
He could tell her he worried about her, that they all did, but she’d heard it all before. Wrecker, of anyone, knew that sometimes, all you could do was be there for someone.
“I missed you,” he readjusted his attention to align with hers, noticing that the sun had now breached the horizon, engulfing the atmosphere in an otherworldly orange glow.
He felt more than heard her breathe deeply beside him, a slight tremble in her intake. When she spoke, however, he heard no trace of the emotion she had unwillingly let slip.
“I know. I missed you too.”
She leaned into his embrace, and together they watched as the sun gradually fell below the horizon, dusk fading into the night cycle.
How he’d missed this.