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In retrospect, the most surprising thing about that night wasn't that there was only one bed left at the hovel of an inn on Coruscant's underlevels where they'd taken refuge. Growing up watching Wynessa Starflare's old holovids had taught him that this was perhaps the most lasting and beloved twist of fate that a romance could experience. And Jaina, always one to cut straight to the power cable (as she was so fond of saying), had headed off any suggestions of alternative arrangements before he could even broach the topic. He'd always appreciated that about Jaina. There was no artifice about her when it came to him. Every emotion she felt telegraphed itself across her face. She never bothered to mince words or avoid conversation. She said and felt what she meant, always.
No, perhaps the biggest surprise of the night had been how easily he'd fallen back in time.
One would anticipate, when forced to share a bed with an ex-lover, that there might be some awkwardness involved. In the brief window of time between laying down beside her and slipping into sleep, Jag had a moment to scold himself. The truth was that sleeping next to Jaina had always felt to him like flying in his clawcraft. Maybe once, it had taken him some time to adjust to the new surroundings, but afterwards it felt like something he had been doing for his entire life.
"Always so brisk and efficient." Jaina used to tease regarding his ability to fall asleep immediately. She, by contrast, slept the same way she lived when she was awake. Restless but practical, snatching sleep when she could for as long as was needed to function until the next opportunity, never quite staying still.
They both knew the truth, which was that neither slept as well in the absence of the other.
He woke with an arm outstretched onto Jaina's side of the bed, it's occupant noticeably missing. There was a heartbeat where he was transported back to Tenupe. He found himself tensing in expectation of predators, listening for any small sounds. He'd been sleeping without Jaina for a long time by then, had thought that he was used to the lack of her. It had always been a shock to his system, waking with a jolt on Tenupe and finding himself instinctively searching for the presence of the one who had put him there out of a desire for comfort.
It was with this instinct in mind that he found himself scanning the room, not for danger, but for Jaina. Despite all of his best efforts, he'd never been able to link the two.
She was standing by the window, bathed in blue and white light from passing speeders. One arm was wrapped tightly around her stomach. The other was bent, fist balled, the thumb rubbing absently at the underside of her jaw. There was a scar there, small. Almost unnoticeable unless one knew where to look. Or perhaps unless one had spent a decent amount of time cataloguing her skin. A memory echoed in his head.
Jaina, underneath him, her hand rising to cup his own as he stroked the bit of raised skin. "It, uh— shrapnel, I think. When I threw a thermal detonator after Anakin…after. I didn't notice it for a long time, but it wasn't there before, so. It's there now."
Her pensive movement told him exactly why she was no longer in their bed.
She didn't turn when she heard him get up, but he saw her thumb still and knew that she was aware.
"Myrkyr again?"
He watched the reflection of her face in the transparisteel. She wouldn't meet his eyes, only continued to stare out past the lanes of traffic. A bad nightmare, then.
Her lips twitched ruefully, "They never seem to go away."
Her eyes closed. "Lately I find… it feels too close. Everything with Jace- Caedus…"
Her eyes reopened, and he was reminded powerfully of eighteen year old Jaina, all rage and bravado to cover her fear and her grief. He took a step closer and watched her spine stiffen.
"Don't," she said sharply, "It's not fair to you."
"I think I can decide for myself what's fair to me, Jaina."
She half turned toward him, ready to fight back.
"Don't be noble with me, Jagged Fel." She spat, her eyes sparking, "I have no right to come to you about my nightmares, especially not after what I've done to you. As if I haven't been the cause of your own nightmares."
She turned back to the window with a huff. He almost laughed at the familiarity he felt with her tone. A decade may have passed since they were last together romantically, but this was a Jaina with whom he was intimately acquainted. Brutally honest, yes, but also throwing up walls in an attempt to stave off closeness. Trying to protect him from the heartbreak that would come from her leaving, something she thought was inevitable.
She may have been right that it wasn't fair to him. But Jag found himself remembering not only the iterations of a younger Jaina, full of pain, but also the younger iterations of himself, with new love blossoming in his chest.
He moved forward again, watching her reflection still. She watched him back, but at a slant, as though afraid to hold his gaze for too long.
"Sometimes I can't look at you head on," she'd told him once, after Ylesia. "You look at me like I'm too precious to lose. I'm not worth that."
He edged up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She held herself rigid for a moment. But then her eyes found his in the reflection, and he felt the tension leave her shoulders.
"You don't have to do this." She said quietly.
"I know." He murmured back.
She leaned back against his chest and rested the back of her head on his shoulder. For a long time, they stood together, watching the speeders pass. The only sounds were the whoosing of the vehicles, and their own exhalations. He felt her relax, minute by minute, as their breathing seemed to link. It felt like a moment. It also felt like forever.
Eventually, she met his eyes again.
"Thank you."
He didn't let go. He kept his arms around her.
"I've taken up enough of your time. You must be exhausted. And I know there's still… everything. We're still not…"
She trailed off, and he knew he wasn't the only one thinking of their younger selves.
"There's still everything." He agreed, "And it will all still be there tomorrow. We can keep dealing with it then. For tonight, let's be here."
Her eyes were luminous and vulnerable.
"And where is here, exactly?"
He found himself reaching for her, his own thumb rubbing at the scar she'd been touching before.
"Two wounded people with nightmares, who don't want to be alone." He said simply, "Come back to bed, Jaina. Sleep."
She took his hand and followed him. They were both asleep again within minutes, faces turned toward each other.