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thegreymarveljedi · 5 months ago

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He’ll Be Home Soon

(Echo x reader)

This idea came to me while at a family gathering. I was just daydreaming and whatever and I thought of this idea and ran with it. This is probably one of the first fics in a while that I’m actually very proud of. It took a few weeks but it feels good to get my motivation back and with a few extra ideas from others on how to keep my works from getting deleted again (thank you @techhasmjolnir , @isthereanechoinhere96 @inkstainedhandswithrings ) I’m back for the new year with a few good stories coming out!

This story takes place starting just before Star Wars the clone wars Season 3 Episode 18 (I am so so sorry lol). I hope you all enjoy this!

(Also, last minute add but divider is done by @stars-n-spice )

Warnings: ANGSTTT, major character ‘death’, ‘5’ stages of grief, mentions of blood, concussion, denial, delusions, mentions of anxiety, hurt/ eventual comfort, tears from many people, fluff, mentions of loneliness/ introvert, insecure Echo, happy ending

Words: 10.6k (Way more than I thought lol)

(Y/N) stood with Echo at the front door of their apartment, watching as he fixed the rest of his armour. She helped where she could, passing him pieces and fixing others that were crooked. He smiled at her as he finished fixing his armour, grabbing his helmet and securing it under his arm.

“I’ll be home before you know it mesh’la. We’re only ment to be gone for 7 rotations minimum and 10 rotations maximum. In and out is what the job is,” he said, looking down at (Y/N) with eyes that conveyed so much confidence and love. Even with his confidence she couldn’t shake her worry, the war weighing on her in so many ways. She was worried for his life more than her own and she wanted so much to join the mission, to ensure he came home to her but she knew it was impossible to convince the council of it.

“I know Echo. But I have a really bad feeling about this mission,” (Y/N) said, placing one of her hands on his chest and the other finding it’s way to his cheek, the stubble on his cheeks tickling her palm, “Just stick close to Fives please? And don’t take any unnecessary risks okay?” She pleaded even while knowing full well that it was futile. She knew Echo would be careful but she also knew that he was a soldier who would do whatever it took to complete the mission.

“With General Skywalker, there’s always risks,” he chuckled, though the face (Y/N) gave him must have made him rethink his joking manner.

“I know that,” she replied, rolling her eyes at the mention of her best friend in the order. (Y/N) had worked with the 501st many times and she knew that Anakin could be reckless with his actions. But she also knew how much he cared for his men, even if he took unnecessary risks. Echo looked at her with a soft smile, his gloved hand coming up to take hold of her own that still rested on his cheek.

“I’m serious Echo. Don’t do anything you shouldn’t do. I need you to come home to me.” Her voice cracked as she spoke those word’s, her emotions spilling over. As a Jedi, attachments were forbidden, a path to the dark side as master Yoda always said. But (Y/N) liked to think that her relationship with Echo was different. She didn’t feel any darkest in her heart or anger when he was gone, all she felt for him was love and the occasional worry. But I guess that worry turned to fear in this case and she knew that master Yoda would frown upon this revelation.

“I will cyar’ika, I promise.” Echo snapped her out of her thoughts, his words touching her heart and easing her mind even if only a little. (Y/N) stared at her handsome arc trooper, his hazel eyes deep pools of wonder that she could admire for hours, his lips so kissable and soft, pulled into an affectionate smile that she wished would never leave. His hair was cut in accordance with regulations but still as soft and fluffy as his heart, the very soft waves tempting her to run her fingers through them. She refrained however, instead choosing to kiss his nose and tilt his head forward toward her own, resting their foreheads together.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” (Y/N) spoke softly, her voice trembling slightly at the thought of letting him go. She knew it was war times and that they had a fight to win, but that didn’t mean she liked it. It didn’t make parting with him any easier.

“I’d expect nothing less from you my dear,” Echo chuckled, his helmet falling from his hands as he wrapped her in his arms one last time. (Y/N) returned the embrace, determined to hold his warmth against her body for as long as she could before he really had to leave.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner kar’ta,” Echo whispered, his face buried in her neck as he breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of (Y/N)’s body soap. His hands found her hips, running his gloved palms up and down her sides as her arms remained locked around his neck. The press of his armour against her torso was painful but worth every moment, as long as he was in her arms.

“I love you too Echo. So so much. I always will,” (Y/N) replied just as quietly, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment. After another minute of holding one another his comm went off, the beeping of the device signalling that it was time for him to go.

She gave her beloved trooper one final squeeze, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes as she begrudgingly let him go. Echo smiled sadly at (Y/N) as she leaned down and retrieved his helmet, tucking it under his arm once again before bidding her a final goodbye. As the door opened to allow him to leave, he turned back to face his cyare once more and blew her a kiss, one that she caught and returned, her hands trembling slightly as she watched him leave.

“I’ll be home soon ner sarad. I promise,” he spoke one final time to her, his smile never leaving his face and the warm affection in his eyes conveying his love. She nodded as the door closed, cutting her off from the love of her life temporarily.

(Y/N) tried her best to hold the tears at bay, her emotions bubbling up and threatening to burst out in full force. She took some deep breathes, composing herself before she looked around the apartment, suddenly feeling so small and alone in the space meant for two. She cracked her neck and sighed, trying to think of everything else besides the handsome trooper who had just left her presence.

“It’s only 7 rotations at minimum. We’ve gone longer without each other. What’s the worst that could happen?”

~Time Skip~

Being on a meditative retreat was relaxing, time away from the fighting and the politics, not having to think about much of anything. It was peaceful, like it should be, even if (Y/N) was still a little worried about Echo. But once he returned, they could disappear off world together for the last week of the retreat, head to Naboo and just relax for a few days.

She smiled at the thought of it, thinking about how relaxing it would be to spend time with her love after he came home. It was 8 rotations ago that Echo and the others had left on their mission, the details of which were still classified to almost all besides the council and a few other veteran Jedi. All she knew was that Anakin and Obi-wan were leading a team to rescue Master Piell.

(Y/N) was snapped out of her thoughts when there was a knock at the door, the sounds firm and stern. She smiled giddily, thinking that it was her trooper coming home and wanting to surprise her. She smoothed out her robes and fixed her hair, ready to greet Echo after a long mission away. She walked over to the door and pressed the panel to open it, her large smile falling as she gazed upon two troopers she hadn’t expected to see.

“Rex, Fives what are you guys doing here? And where’s…” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide and her heart stopped immediately when she noticed that Echo was nowhere to be found next to Fives. Her eyes darted between the two troopers, fear gripping her heart like vice, a cloud of darkness forming around her in the force.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Fives said, his helmet tucked under his arm which allowed her to see his face, eyes bloodshot and tear streaks staining his cheeks. (Y/N) laughed and shook her head, giving Fives a punch to his chest and gesturing for them both to come inside.

“N-no. Stop messing with me. This is another one of your stupid pranks right?” She laughed again, a very unpleasant sounding laugh leaving her lips as her eyes continued to dart between the Arc trooper and the clone captain who had yet to utter a word. The glare Fives sent (Y/N)’s way sent a shiver down her spine, his gaze intense and full of anger.

“I would never joke about this,” Fives hissed, taking a menacing step forward as tears began to gather in his eyes once more. Rex placed a firm hand on Fives’ chest, giving him a small push back and glaring at him. He shook his head, knowing that Fives was hurting but also knowing that (Y/N) had lost the love of her life. Fives realized his mistake and looked over Rex’s shoulder to the woman, eyes finding her horrified expression at the realization that they were telling the truth.

“Bu-but he can’t be. H-he promised me he’d come home.” She shook her head as the words fell from her lips, in disbelief at the prospect that her beloved Arc trooper had fallen in battle. Her knees felt weak, like they couldn’t support her weight any longer. (Y/N) eyes continued to dart between the men as she took a few steps back into her apartment, the space suddenly feeling even smaller than it did when Echo left.

“I’m- I’m so sorry (Y/N). But he’s gone,” Rex said, his voice that of a defeated captain who had just lost another brother. Her head continued to shake as Rex and Fives slowly walked into the apartment, the doors sliding shut behind them.

The men knew they were welcome in her home, having hosted them for many nights after a successful mission. This however, was a different monster entirely. Echo was gone and they were in mourning, (Y/N)’s own mind having an impossible time coming to terms with these revelations. She could feel the cloud of sadness growing, gripping her heart and taking over her senses.

Their eyes looked sad and genuine as they told (Y/N) what happened to her soldier, how bravely he fought and how tragic the mission was as a whole. She felt her heart crack as they continued to retell it, wanting them stop but knowing that, deep down, she needed to know. She felt like her legs would give out, the trembling getting more and more violent as their recounting of the mission went on. Fives had deposited himself at the dinning room table, his helmet long forgot by the front door as Rex stayed standing.

“N-no. Nonono.” (Y/N)’s words seemed so distant even to her own ears, stumbling over her feet as she continued to step back, trying her best to back away from the reality of this situation. She knew she was in denial, Rex and Fives’ presence telling her all she needed but it didn’t feel real. It felt like someone was pulling the world right out from under her feet, reaching into her chest and tearing a piece of her heart away. There was ringing, so loud and annoying, like an alarm in her ears that didn’t seem to stop.

“I’m deeply sorry vod’ika. He fought like a hero and died a hero,” whoever said that, their voice was distant to (Y/N)’s ears, the ringing intensifying tenfold her heart crumbled in her chest. She began hyperventilating, as if she was falling down a dark hole with no visible way out. She blindly reached for the counter in the kitchen, trying to find some kind of solid surface to keep her grounded.

“I-I-” words seemed to fail her, the world around her growing darker and darker as her knees began to give out. She couldn’t feel her lower half or even her fingers, her body failing her just as the words did.

“(Y/N)?” Rex asked, Fives perking up at the concern in the captains voice. He turned to look at (Y/N) and his eyes went wide, seeing her shake and stumble. He was on his feet and walking over to where she stood immediately, knowing that Echo would come back from the grave and shoot him if he let anything happen to his cyare.

“I-I can’t fe-feel my legs…” (Y/N) said, so quietly that both men almost missed what she said. Her vision went black, eyes rolling into the back of her head as the ground seemed to swallow her. Her consciousness came crashing down, the force around her swirling a deep purple. Her subconscious mind could feel her falling, fingers on the counter slipping off as her body came hurtling toward the hard surface of the floor.

“(Y/N)!” Fives yelped, catching her before she could hit the ground, but not before her head slammed into the counter, a loud thunk reverberating through the apartment. Rex was by her side in an instant as well, helping Fives to slowly bring her to the ground. Rex turned her over slowly to check on the spot where she hit her head, blood oozing from the wound.

He cursed and stood up, moving to grab the first aid kit from under the sink as Fives quickly sent a message to Kix. Rex came back with the kit and a damp cloth, holding it against (Y/N)’s head to try and stop the bleeding.

“Let’s move her to the couch, carefully,” Rex said and Fives nodded, feeling quite guilty that they hadn’t told (Y/N) to sit down before they told her the tragic news. His mind went to his fallen twin, seeing his helmet lying there on the durasteel of the citadel landing pad. It was burnt, fried to a crisp from the explosion, but he had begged Ahsoka to use the force and bring it to them, needing to take the last part of his twin home.

“Comm Kix now.” Rex snapped Fives out of his thoughts, his voice somehow calm even with the current situation as they brought (Y/N) over to the couch to lay her down. Rex quickly placed down a few extra clean towels to stop the blood from seeping into the couch, not wanting to make (Y/N)’s apartment feel any more chilling.

“He’s already on his way,” Fives replied, his eyes downcast as he held (Y/N)’s hand. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him to do so, (Y/N) accepting the small gesture of platonic affection whenever the boys came over after a mission. He held it gently, as if trying to ground them both and come to terms with the reality that his twin was gone. It was so hard to grasp, Fives struggling to understand how much this had effect (Y/N).

“Should we have waited to tell her?” The words fell from his lip before he could stop them, voice soft yet defeated. Rex took a moment to mull over Fives words, knowing that they were all grieving. But he hadn’t wanted to keep (Y/N) in the dark about this, especially when he knew she’d hear that they were home. It wasn’t right to keep this from her no matter how much he wanted to.

“No. It needed to be done now,” he said firmly, though his words lacked their usual confident conviction. He stared down at (Y/N), someone who had been a second in command to him many times, saved his and his brothers lives more times than he could count and always welcomed them into her home with open arms.

“But why?” Fives said quietly, looking to Rex with such sadness and despair written across his features.

“Because I don’t feel right lying to her. She doesn’t deserve that,” Rex said, his eyes turning to look at Fives before turning back to look at (Y/N). Her unconscious expression was unreadable, her face neutral even if the rest of her body was tense. Her skin had drained of some of its colour, once vibrant but now dimmed and dull. Rex turned back to Fives, watching the emotions pass along the Arc trooper’s face as he started at his twin’s cyare.

“I know you just lost your twin, Fives. But this is his Cyar’ika. Even if it hurts to shatter her world, she deserved to know that he went out like a hero,” Rex said, placing a hand on Fives shoulder to try and convey his thoughts to his Vod. Fives only nodded, not wanting to be reminded of such a tragic event. It was still fresh in his mind, that much was true, but for as long as he could, he wanted to just pretend it wasn’t real.

“I know Rex. It just…hurts. A lot,” Fives said, his voice cracking as the tears returned, the emotions no longer wanting to stay hidden behind the mask he had managed to put on. He removed his gloves, putting them down on the Caf table along with his chest plate and gauntlets.

“I know Fives. I know,” Rex said with a sigh, moving to do the same as Fives. They removed their armour silently, placing it neatly in piles by the door as they waited for Kix to arrive.

“Should we have given her the holo instead,” Fives said as he removed his belt and pulled the small device from one of the compartments. He remembered the moment that Echo had given him the holo tape, telling him that…

“If something happens to me, I need you to give this to (Y/N). She needs to hear what is on this and I need her to know that I love her.”

“I don’t know,” Rex’s shoulders sagged as he thought about it all, loosing one of the troopers he had trained since shiny, one of the 501st brothers he was closest too, “This way at least, we can stay with her and help her through this.” Rex had seen the holo before, having been close by to Echo when he had reordered it. He knew what it said and had even teared up a little at how sentimental it was.

“Will we ever give it to her?” This time it was Fives to break the temporary silence that had fallen over the apartment, looking at (Y/N) with sad eyes.

“I don’t know,” Rex said. Before he could utter another word, there was a firm and slightly frantic knocking at the door. It slid open to reveal Kix with his med pack and Hardcase and Jesse behind him, both sporting grim expressions. They quickly walked into the apartment and closed the door, Jesse initiating the lock as soon as they were all in.

“There isn’t much we can do right now but I suggest we tell general Skywalker,” Kix said as he put his stethoscope away, standing up and depositing his med pack next to the front door along with the rest of the boys armour.

“We can’t. What will he do?” Jesse asked curiously, knowing that yes, Anakin and (Y/N) were best friends, but was this really something that he could help her with. He and the others knew that attachments for Jedi were forbidden but they had chosen to stand by their Vod and his cyar’ika. None of them knew what their general would say though.

“He might be able to help,” Hardcase replied, his voice low and timid which was a bit of a shock to the others considering Hardcase was always so loud and boisterous. Hardcase cast his eyes to (Y/N), watching as she lay there unconscious. He knew that this was going to affect her greatly but he wanted to help in any way he could. They all did.

“How?” Jesse snapped without thinking about his tone, his own emotions over the situation much more uncontrollable.

“I don’t know okay! But we can’t just leave her alone to wallow in her grief. Echo wouldn’t want that,” Hardcase snapped back, his usual volume returning though his words only held sadness and despair. A silence befell the room at that moment. The five men thinking over what they could do to help their other general, their sister. It was another few moments of silence before Rex went to speak up, his words being interrupted by a groan and coughing. The men all turned their heads to look at (Y/N), all equally concerned for her wellbeing after what happened.

“Vod’ika are you okay?” Fives asked quietly, his hand giving (Y/N)’s a gentle squeeze as she slowly and carefully turned her head left and right. She could feel the dull throbbing pain of where she hit her head, the bacta patch on the wound helping to sooth the spot.

She spoke no words as she took in the state of the apartment, not many things out of place but enough that she began to make a plan in her head of how to clean them up. She took another survey of the space, noting that there were now five troopers present rather than two. She didn’t mind the extra company, though right now she felt as if she wanted to be left alone. She tried to sit up, her body feeling heavy, as though her heart had been ripped in two. Her head felt foggy, like there was a missing piece of the puzzle though that was definitely the concussion, she deduced.

“General?” Kix asked tentatively, helping (Y/N) to sit up with the help of Rex and Fives. They sat her up against the back rest of the couch, making sure to place pillows around to help her sit comfortably. She gave a short nod in thanks, feeling like there was so much more to say but no words to articulate how she was feeling.

“This is all just a bad dream,” she said, smoothing one of her hands down her face. This had to be a bad dream, there was no way he was gone. The pieces of her heart were scatter, the fog of her mind still swirling with thoughts that Echo would be home soon.

“I wish it were (Y/N). But it’s not. I’m sorry,” Rex said, hanging his head in shame that he couldn’t bring his younger brother home. The others in the room mimicked Rex, all of them feeling awful for what happened, especially Fives. The guilt of the incident weighted on him most of all, not having done enough to prevent Echo from pushing for the shuttle prematurely.

“I should clean up, he’ll be home soon,” (Y/N) said slightly dazed, as if on autopilot and not fully present in her own body. She went to stand up, a little too fast as she stumbled, being caught by Kix, Rex and Fives. They all looked at her confused, not fully understanding what she meant with her words.

“Who?” Hardcase asked tentatively, slightly fearful of the answer her would receive. Kix and Rex steadied (Y/N) on her feet, making sure that she was physically stable before letting go, even then their hands weren’t too far away. (Y/N) looked at Hardcase with an innocent smile, one too innocent for a grieving woman who just found out that she had lost the love of her life.

“Echo. He’ll be home soon so I need to clean this place up,” (Y/N) said moving away from the couch and towards to the kitchen where there was a very small pile of dishes and a warm meal prepared. She would offer some to the guys but it was Echo’s favourite and she didn’t want him to have any less when he came home.

“(Y/N),” Jesse spoke, his tone one of disbelief. Had she not heard anything they had said to her for the last hour? Or was this the denial stage of grief. He looked over to Rex and Kix who were already looking at each other, both not knowing how to go about this situation.

“You guys should go, before Anakin starts wondering where you all are,” she said, picking up the sponge on the side of the counter and beginning to scrub what dishes were in the sink. She surveyed the counter looking for anymore before her eyes landed on the spot where she hit her head, the counter covered in a little bit of blood.

“But-“ Kix began but was cut off very abruptly.

“I have to clean up.” (Y/N)’s words were sharp, cutting through the tension of the room like a lightsaber. She sighed and reached under the counter for the bleach, pulling on gloves and pouring some bleach onto a clean cloth. She wiped the spot down until it sparkled, going over it with a damp cloth with water and soap.

“We can help you.”

“Thank you Fives. But I’ve got this. I want to make everything look just right for when he comes home,” (Y/N) replied and used the force to throw the bleached towel into the washing machine and turn it on.

“Vod’ika,” Fives said, him voice quiet as he tried to move towards (Y/N), only being stopped by Kix’s hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at his older brother who shook his head, not want to escalate the situation to a point where they couldn’t come back from. Fives hung his head in defeat, feeling even more helpless than before. He was watching as someone who he considered to be his sister, denied that the love of her life was gone.

“He promised me he’d come home,” (Y/N) whispered to herself, a smile on her face and her brain still foggy. Echo was going to come home to her, she knew it. Fives, again, went to approach her but this time with the holotape in his hands. However this time he was stopped by Jesse and Hardcase, both shaking their heads just as Kix did. Fives huffed in annoyance, shrugging both his brother’s hands off his shoulders and making his way to the front door, throwing on his armour quickly before leaving, tears streaming down his face as he left.

Rex watched Fives walk out, the knowledge of how frustrated the arc trooper was weighing in him like a gunship. Rex turned back face (Y/N) watching as she continued to cleanse the kitchen, going over surfaces that had already been cleaned.

“He’s not coming back (Y/N). He’s gone,” Rex said, desperation in his voice at not being able to get through to her. He went to step forward just as Fives did but was also stopped by Kix, his vod’ika giving him a pitiful look.

“He’ll be home soon,” (Y/N) repeated, the force around her drowning out their voices. She was determined to get the place clean before Echo came home, wanting everything to be spotless for his return. Kix watched as (Y/N) was in severe denial, the concussion and head wound she sustained doing nothing to help her subconscious delusions.

“Rex, let her mourn. She’ll come to terms with it eventually. Let’s leave her be.” he gave Rex’s shoulder a squeeze, signalling to Hardcase and Jesse to kit up, wanting to let (Y/N) mourn in peace. Jesse and Hardcase both cast one more glance at their captain who nodded in agreement with Kix’s words, begrudgingly agreeing to let (Y/N) have some space. Kix however walked up to (Y/N) and placed a hand on her shoulder, placing a bottle of pain pills on the counter next to her.

“Take one of these before you go to sleep at night and one when you wake up general, they’ll help with the migraines from the concussion,” Kix said, only receiving a very small nod from (Y/N). He turned back to the others who were now kitted up, following suit before ushering Hardcase and Jesse out, both wishing (Y/N) the best.

Rex was more reluctant to leave, not wanting to leave (Y/N) but knowing that she needed time right now, “if you need us at all, you know how to reach us (Y/N).”

There was no reply from the women and Rex sighed, kitting up and tucking his helmet under his arm. He opened the door and cast one last empathetic glance at (Y/N) before the door closed behind him, leaving her alone in her apartment.

~ Time Skip~

It had been another two weeks since the incident and (Y/N) was still in denial, her subconscious mind pushing forth memories of their time together to make it appear as though Echo was still alive. She smiled as she washed her hands in the kitchen, just having finished making lunch when there was a knock at the door. She used the force to open it, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Anakin standing there.

“Hey (Y/N),” he greeted a sympathetic smile on his lips as he walked into her apartment.

“Hi Anakin!” she said cheerfully, coming over to hug her best friend. She gave him a squeeze before pulling away, giving him a once over to check for any injuries but found none. Her cheery disposition caught Anakin off guard, making him tilt his head slightly but he said nothing.

“I just made lunch, would you like any?” She offered, moving back to the kitchen and taking down a bowl and two glasses from the cabinet.

“I’m okay for now (Y/N/N) but thanks for the offer,” Anakin declined politely though accepting the cup of water that she offered him.

“How’re you doing?” He asked as she sat down, a bowl of stew in her hand and her legs tucked up under her body. Anakin took a sip of his water as she answered his question though her answer sent a shock through his spine making him choke on his water.

“I’m doing good. I’ve got a clean place and it’s ready for when Echo comes home.”

“What?”

“My apartment. I cleaned it up so that way when Echo comes home he can just relax.”

“D-did Fives and Rex not-“ Anakin stutter over his words, placing his glass down on the caf table and staring at (Y/N) as if she had turned to the dark side. She continued talking however, as if trying to drown out what Anakin was saying.

“And then I’m going to make his favourite dinner and make sure th-“

“(Y/N/N).”

“Yeah?”

“Echo’s gone. He died at the Citadel,” Anakin said, standing up and kneeling down in front of where (Y/N) was sitting on the couch. She refused to meet his eyes, finishing off her stew and standing up, navigating around Anakin before moving to the kitchen.

“N-no he didn’t. He’s just-“ she stuttered out, dropping her bowl in the sink and running the water over it.

“(Y/N)-“ Anakin started but was cut off again.

“He’ll be home soon. I know he will be,” (Y/N) said, turning to give Anakin a quick glare before moving toward her bedroom.

“(Y/N) wait,” Anakin said quickly, jumping over the couch and chasing after her, gently taking hold of her wrist to stop her from walking away. (Y/N) stood still for a moment, thinking over what Anakin had told her, thinking back to when Rex and the others were her.

“I should get going. I need to shower and meditate before he comes home,” she said quietly with a sigh, shaking free from Anakin’s grip and heading down the hall, “you can see yourself out,” she said as the door to her room opened and closed, leaving Anakin alone on the boarder of the living room and hallway.

He sighed as he looked around the apartment, taking in the spotless mess of everything and how nothing was out of place. His eyes landed on the side table next to the couch where there was a holophoto of (Y/N) with him, Rex, Fives, Echo and the rest of Torrent company. Next to that was a holophoto of her and Echo, holding each other and smiling. Anakin picked up the captured moment, looking at the happy couple that reminded him so much of himself and Padme. He felt awful for not being able to bring Echo home, his helmet the only thing coming home with them.

Anakin made his way to the door, sighing once more as it opened and closed behind him as he left (Y/N)’s apartment, thinking over what he could do to help her.

“I’m worried about (Y/N), Master,” Anakin said as he stood against the wall in Obi-wan’s office. He had come to his master after visiting (Y/N), needing some advice at how to help her out.

“Why’s that?” Obi-wan said as he continued to type up a report for the council on his datapad.

“She’s in denial about Echo’s death, She still thinks that he’s alive,” Anakin said, shaking his head as he gave Obi-wan the run down. Obi-wan nodded along, listening to Anakin as he spoke. He knew of (Y/N)’s relationship with the arc trooper, even if they had tried their best to hide their relationship. Obi-wan had chosen to show his silent support, turning his head and letting (Y/N) be happy. He knew what it felt like to give up that kind of connection in favour of being a Jedi and there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t feel some kind of regret.

“But didn’t Rex and Fives-“ Obi-wan started, looking up at Anakin as his apprentice cut him off.

“They did. And so did I but she responded with ‘he’ll be home soon’ and won’t hear anything else about it,” Anakin said, coming over and sitting down at the chair in front of Obi-wan’s desk this time.

“I see. That’s not good then,” his master replied as he looked over to Anakin, placing his datapad away from himself and giving Anakin his full attention.

“He left her a recording but Rex and Fives didn’t feel right giving it to her,” Anakin explained, placing the holorecorder down on Obi-wan’s desk as emphasis along with Echo’s helmet that he brought as well. It had been a battle to get Fives to part with it but Anakin had said to him that he needed it to help (Y/N) through this.

“Why not?” Obi-wan said, somewhat flabbergasted that they hadn’t given (Y/N) something that was intended for her. He looked at Echo’s damaged helmet next, putting a hand against it and closing his eyes, allowing the force to guide him through Echo’s last moments. He felt anguish, anger but mostly sorrow for leaving (Y/N) behind.

I love you (Y/N). I’ll see you again someday.

“Because they didn’t want her to be alone when she found out,” Anakin said, watching as Obi-wan continued what he was doing. He knew his master was focused on his task, connecting with Echo’s last conscious thought.

“I understand that but they should’ve given it to her,” Obi-wan said as he opened his eyes and removed his hand from Echo’s helmet. He had found the closure that he himself had been looking for and he hoped that (Y/N) could find the same. He looked to his student, a defeated look present in his face.

“I know. I understand the denial but how do we get her to snap out of it?” Anakin said, desperation present in his voice.

“I’m not sure but we need to find a way, before the council catches wind of this.”

“I know but how? She won’t listen to anyone about it.”

They sat silently for a moment before Obi-wan spoke up, “Maybe I can help. Give me the holo,” Obi-wan said, taking the holo and pocketing it before using the force to grab a bag big enough to hold Echo’s helmet. He pulled the bag over his shoulder and made his way to the door, leaving Anakin sitting down.

“What are you going to do Obi-wan?” Anakin asked quickly but there was no response from his master as he walked out, power walking to where Anakin knew (Y/N) would be.

“(Y/N)?” Obi-wan called out catching (Y/N) as she was about to enter into one of the private training room. The woman turned at the sound of her name, eyes lighting up and lips turning into a smile as she saw Obi-wan.

“Master Kenobi! How can I help you?” She said with a smile and invited him into the room she was entering, closing and locking the sliding doors to give them a chance to talk.

“Actually, I was hoping I could help you,” obi-wan said making (Y/N) tilt her head in fake confusion. She had a feeling that Anakin had gone to his former mentor for advice and support and she had a sneaking suspicion that Obi-wan would be the next to talk to her about the situation. He had been there after all, the mission had been one that he led.

“Oh? I-I don’t need any help Obi-wan but thank you for the sentiment,” (Y/N) said, walking further into the training room and discarding her robe onto one of the bench’s against the wall.

“(Y/N), look at me,” Obi-wan said, walking over to where (Y/N) was, “You deserve to be happy you know that right?” He said, placing a hand on her shoulder. (Y/N) reluctantly nodded, knowing where this was going. She was over it at this point, everyone trying to convince her that Echo was gone.

“Haha very funny. Has everyone else got you in on this prank to?” She said with a forced fake laugh, moving away from Obi-wan to sit down in the ground. She readied herself into a meditative position, hoping that Obi-wan would get the hint to leave her alone.

“It’s not a prank my darling,” Obi-wan said, turning to (Y/N) and following her to her meditation spot. He sat across from her and placed the bag with Echo’s helmet next to him, waiting for the right moment to bring it out.

“Yeah yeah, tell Anakin to knock it off. I have to make sure I’m alert and ready for when Echo comes home-“

“(Y/N).”

“Obi-wan.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” he said, trying to get through to her about how this was not a trick. There was a sigh hanging by thread on his lips, the frustration of (Y/N)’s denial making Obi-wan question if he should just rip the bacta patch off.

“Well I don’t believe you,” she said, closing her eyes to try and tune out Obi-wan and his words. She knew that Echo was somewhere out there and no one could dissuade her from that thought.

“When have I ever lied to you?” She heard Obi-wan say, the question striking a cord inside her mind and her chest.

“Today is the first,” she replied after a brief pause of thought. Obi-wan sighed again, watching as (Y/N) sat in denial. Her eyes remained closed so Obi-wan figured that now was the only time he could pull out his cards. He pulled Echos damaged helmet out of the bag he brought, placing it on the ground in front of (Y/N) before pulling out the holorecording and pressing play.

“Cyar’ika.” (Y/N)’s eyes flew open at the sound of that voice, the hope in her chest bubbling up before she realized that it was just a recording. She looked at the holo of her Arc trooper, watching as his eyes seemed to light up as if he was talking directly to her and not addressing her through a camera. She took another moment and looked down, tears gathering in her waterline as she laid eyes on Echo’s helmet, charred and damaged beyond repair.

“If you’re hearing this then… there’s no easy way to tell you but…I’m gone. I’ve had this recorded since I met you because I knew there was always a possibility that I wouldn’t come back.” His words hit her like a turbo tank, making her fragmented heart shatter even more. Her eyes temporarily met Obi-wan’s before they focused back on the holo of her lover.

“I gave it to Fives because I knew he would be the one to deliver it if something ever happened and unfortunately it did.” She picked up his helmet, the tears now spilling over her cheeks as she finally came to grips with the fact that Echo was really gone for good. She ran her thumbs over the visor of his helmet, holding it in her lap as she continued to listen to the message that was left for her.

“I just want you to know (Y/N), I will always love you no matter where I am. I will always be with you even when we’re miles apart. Ner mesh’la Sarad, move on and live happily, I know you can. Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” His final words broke her, a strangled sob leaving her lips as she clutched his helmet closer to her chest. She placed her forehead against that of his helmet, feeling Echo’s last moments before the memories faded.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N),” Obi-wan said, watching as (Y/N) broke down over the message Echo had left her, having to wipe a few stray tears away from his own eyes. This whole situation reminded him so much of how he had almost lost Satine when they were younger. He felt horrible that he had to do this but it needed to be done before the council caught on. He couldn’t keep covering for her even if he wanted to, wanting to help her as much as he could.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Obi-wan said, standing up and gently maneuvering (Y/N) to stand up. She was pliant and didn’t resist Obi-wan much, still trying to grapple with the message that she had just seen. Obi-wan slowly and carefully took Echo’s helmet and placed it back in the bag so that no one would be none the wiser. He handed the bag back to (Y/N) and placed the holorecording inside it alongside the helmet.

He took (Y/N)’s hand softly and guided her out of the training room, being careful to avoid as many Jedi as he could in the halls of the temple. (Y/N) remained quiet, holding tightly onto the bag that now housed Echo’s helmet and the last message she received. She felt as though she had skipped the second and third stages of grief, no amount of anger or bargaining able to bring him back.

Next thing she knew they had made it to her room in the temple, the door opening and closing behind them. Obi-wan guided (Y/N) to her bed, coaxing her to lay down and allow him to take off her boots. He felt like a father comforting his daughter after a heartbreak. He was pulling off her boots when she finally spoke.

“He’s really gone?” (Y/N) said, her voice distant and haunted, not able to meet Obi-wan eyes. Her eyes instead moved to where Echo’s helmet lay in a bag on the floor of her room, the visor poking out and allowing her a glimpse of his beautiful hazel eyes one last time.

“Unfortunately he is,” Obi-wan said sympathetically, following her eyes to his helmet before he sighed again, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No. Thank you Obi-wan. I’ll be okay,” (Y/N) said as she gently forced Echo’s helmet and the holorecording into her hands. She needed to be alone to process everything and she just wanted to try and sleep.

“If there is anything that can be done, please allow me or Anakin to help,” Obi-wan said softly, placing his hands on her shoulders and giving them a fatherly squeeze before he turned around and left the room, but not before she said to him,

“I will,” (Y/N) said before the door to her room fully closed behind Obi-wan, leaving her alone once more. She stared at Echo’s helmet, the plastiod charred and damaged, the blue paint scuffed and faded. She closed her eyes again, following the force as it led her back to the happy memories she shared with Echo. The words of his holorecording played over and over in her head as she stripped out of her robes and into her night clothes, haunting yet comforting to her.

She lay there in bed for another while, Echo’s helmet clutched to her chest like a tooka doll. She had made up her mind a while ago but now she knew for certain what she needed to do.

“What do you mean she left?!” Anakin snapped at Obi-wan as his master told him the news. (Y/N) had requested a private council meeting yesterday and had informed her masters and mentors that she would be resigning from the Jedi order effective immediately. It had come as a shock to most of the Jedi on the council though Master Yoda seemed to understand why. She had apologized profusely, but Master Yoda just bowed his head and wished her well.

“I’m not happy about it either but she resigned of her own volition. There was nothing that could have been done,” Obi-wan said, trying to quell the anger of his apprentice. He knew that Anakin would take the news hard, but he also knew that there was nothing he or Anakin could’ve done to change (Y/N)’s mind. She needed her time and space and they were going to give it to her whether they agreed with her decision or not.

“How am I going to break it to the boys?” Anakin said, dragging his mechanical hand down his face in defeat. The 501st loved (Y/N), always the life of the party and sharing her compassion for them wherever she went. She was their unofficial sister, their vod’ika as they liked to call her.

“I don’t know Anakin. But you’ll have to find a way,” Obi-wan said, mulling over in his head if there was any way that he could help Anakin break the news to his troopers.

“I know.”

“Maybe this will help her Anakin. She was grieving and she was beginning to get reckless on assignments.”

“But that’s not her fault!”

“It was. That’s why the Jedi are not meant to form attachments,” Obi-wan said, giving his padawan a look that told him not to argue but he knew Anakin was to stubborn to let this go.

“But you and Satine-“ Anakin started but Obi-wan cut him off very quickly.

“Satine and I were different. And I did not let me feelings get in the way of my duty,” Obi-wan snapped, not wanting to have the same argument with Anakin that they have had multiple times already. He had made his decision a long time ago, even if he still regrets it in some ways. Anakin sigh in defeat before sitting down in one of the chairs in front of Obi-Wan‘s desk again, bowing his head.

“I hope wherever she goes, she finds peace,” Anakin said, Obi-wan nodding along as well and wishing through the force that (Y/N) find what she needs.

~Time Skip~

“The island is beautiful Phee,” Hunter said as she led the Batch down the island towards where they would be staying for a little.

“I’m glad you like it. It’s our own little slice of heaven in this crazy galaxy. We have a lot of refugees here and it’s a place for them to find peace,” Phee explained as they came to a stop outside the island inn.

“I can see why,” Echo said as he took in the laughter the island had to offer. It was a gorgeous place with a diverse community and a kindness that hadn’t been present in the galaxy for a long while. He surveyed the area around them before Phee lead them inside the inn, momentarily catching a glimpse of someone he thought was familiar. He shook his head though, believing he was imagining it, after all it had been three years now.

“I hope you guys can find the same kind of peace here. Away from Cid, away from the Empire, away from the fighting,” Phee explained as she turned to the inn keeper to ask about rooms where they could occupy for a while.

“Believe me, I think we could use it,” Wrecker said, holding Omega on his shoulder as the younger girl nodded in response.

“I know you could. There have been a lot of people who have passed through here to get away from the fighting. And because we’re not a resource heavy planet, the empire just kind of leaves us alone,” Phee explained as she received the keys to one of the larger guest houses on island and turned to hand them to Hunter.

“Here you go Hunter, I can take you to the house if you want? Or let you guys wonder and find it yourself,” she said, smiling at the Batch looked at one another.

“We should be okay Phee. Thank you, for all your help,” Hunter said with a smile. The others agreed with him and thanked Phee for all she had done for them.

“Don’t forget, dinner at Shep’s tonight.”

She reminded them before she bid them a goodbye and head off to her own homestead, giving Tech a cheeky kiss on the cheek on her way out. The genius clone blushed and followed Phee with his eyes, a shy smile on his face.

Echo smiled at the scene, thinking back to before the citadel mission when he and his cyar’ika used to be so happy. His smile faded as he thought about it, about the war and how when the bad Batch had rescued him from Skako Minor she was gone. Anakin and Rex had filled him in on what went down after the mission, (Y/N)’s denial, Obi-wan giving her the message and his helmet, (Y/N) leaving the order. It broke his heart to hear how much his supposed death had impacted her, he just hope she was happy, where ever she was.

“Echo?” Echo was snapped out his thoughts by a tug on his human hand, turning his eyes to see Omega trying to get his attention.

“You okay? Wrecker called your name twice,” she said, Echo’s head turning to look at his larger brother before realizing that the others were looking at him as well.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just….memories,” he said quietly.

“About what?” Wrecker asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“About (Y/N)?” Tech said, making Echo’s head shoot up to look at his genius brother. Tech just shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing, “I over heard General Skywalker and Rex speaking to you about it when we rescued you. I am assuming the public display of affection by Phee must have triggered repressed memories.”

Echo just sighed and grumbled about ease dropping, not wanting to justify Tech with a response. Hunter had also heard the conversation but hadn’t thought it relevant to bring up, knowing that if Echo wanted to talk about it he would when he was ready.

“Yes, I was thinking about (Y/N),” he said and felt Omega give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“What happened to her?” She asked, her childlike curiosity seeping out. Echo sighed and turned to the door of the inn, moving to step outside. The others followed him out, beginning to walk to where their temporary house was.

“She resigned from the war effort after I…” Echo spoke, though the words died on his tongue quite quickly. He didn’t like thinking about the citadel or how (Y/N) must have felt.

“After you blew up?” Wrecker said, ripping off the invisible bacta patch that those thoughts brought along. Echo and the others glared at their larger brother, Hunter giving him a smack over the head.

“Tact Wrecker, we’ve talked about this,” Hunter scolded him like a child. Wrecker looked down and apologized to Echo knowing that he may have just undone some of Echo’s personal healing.

The ex-arc trooper sighed and turned around, walking fast to leave the Bad Batch where they stood. They called after him but he ignored their calls, needing to be left alone for now. Echo knew that yes, (Y/N) had resigned after his accident but he didn’t like to dwell on those thoughts. The message that he left to her was still fresh in his mind as if he had recorded it yesterday, telling her to move on and live happy. He hoped that she was happy wherever she was.

(Y/N) sat in her secluded house on the island, reading a book and drinking a cup of tea. It had been three years since she resigned from the order and now she kept to herself, going out only when she needed to, speaking to very few people. Shep had been very welcoming to her when she first stumbled upon the beautiful island that Pabu was, a peaceful, secluded place where she could escape.

When she first arrived, she shut herself out from the force, wanting to start a new life even if she had become an introvert. She had found peace and quiet, her new life away from the war and the death was something she was content with, though there was no true happiness. Her happiness had died with Echo and she hadn’t been able to find someone new. There were a few people who had hit on her at bars before she found Pabu but she always turned them down as politely as she could, talking them that her Arc trooper would be there soon.

(Y/N) was coaxed out of her thoughts at the sound of chirping, a blue bird landing on the windowsill of her home. She smiled at the little creature, one that seemed to visit her home frequently.

“Hello little fellow. How’re you today?” She asked the little bird, knowing that she wouldn’t get a response back at all. It was something she did every time the little guys came around, trying to strike up a conversation even if it was one sided.

However, for some reason this encounter felt different, the little blue bird staying on her windowsill a little longer than normal. (Y/N) titled her head slightly as she observed the little creature, the bird staring back at her just the same. She shook her head and went back to her book, reading a few more words before there was another chirp from her little blue friend. This time when (Y/N) looked up, she was shocked to see the blue bird had made its way inside her home, resting on the caf table infront of her.

“Hey little guy. You’ve never done this before,” she said curiously and lowered her book, continuing to observe the small creature as it looked back at her. It flapped its wings slightly adjusting its position before it took off, flying further into (Y/N) house.

“Hey!” She said and stood up, quickly tossing the book on the caf table as she follow the bird to her room. When she rounded the corner to the open door of her bedroom, there was the blue Bird, sitting on top of Echo’s helmet. (Y/N) stared at the little creature in wonder as it rested on the damaged helmet of her deceased beloved, staring right back at her with big black eyes.

“W-what are you doing their little guy?” She asked, her voice cracking a little at the bird continued to stare at her. This had never happened before and she had done well not to dwell on Echo’s helmet no matter how hard it was not to look at it. She had placed the helmet and holorecording on her bedside table a little while after she settled on pabu, her own way of having Echo home with her even if she didn’t like looking at his helmet.

(Y/N) watched as the little bird did a 360 turn on the helmet, it’s eyes meeting (Y/N)’s once more as it completed it’s rotation. The curious little creature then flapped it’s wings and flew the little distance down to be on the surface of the side table, looking at (Y/N) again once he landed. She stared back at the little blue bird, her heart racing as she felt a tug in the back of her mind.

The little blue bird looked at (Y/N) unmoving and unblinking for a moment before he picked up the holorecording and took flight, flying out the open window of her bedroom. (Y/N) shrieked and raced to the window, watching as the blue bird flew away with the holorecording.

“No! Bring it back, please!” (Y/N) pleadingly yelled, running to the front door and throwing on shoes before swinging the door open and running after the little blue bird. She needed that recording. It was one of the last things she had of Echo, the only one where she could still hear his voice. She ran like her life depended on it, trying her best to catch up with her little friend. She bumped into a few people on her way along the island path, apologizing profusely as she passed a few men in armour and a young girl. She had no time to stop as she chased the bird further up the island, needing to catch it before it got too far.

“Come back little birdie please! That’s too important for me to lose!” (Y/N) called out, speeding up her pace.

“Was that…?” Hunter asked as his eyes followed the women who had just run into them.

“I think it may have been,” Tech said, quickly typing away at his datapad before pulling up a picture of (Y/N) from the Republic’s database.

Echo found himself in the square, wandering around aimlessly, while looking at the vendor stands around him. There wasn’t much that caught his eye until he spotted a little blue bird flying through the air. He smiled at the little bird, something about it reminding him of simpler times. Echo held out his human hand out, hoping to coax the bird into landing on his palm. He felt as though he was on autopilot, never having done anything like this before.

To his complete surprise, the little blue bird flew down and landed on his outstretched palm, looking up at him with big black eyes.

“Hey there little fella. Whatcha got there?” Echo asked as the blue bird released the holorecorder from its beak, looking back up at Echo. The former Arc trooper looked curiously down at the device before his eyes went wide, recognizing the recorder as his.

“Where did you get this?” Echo asked the blue bird quietly, not expecting an answer. Rex and Anakin had told him that Obi-wan gave the recording to (Y/N) before she resigned, the message on the device one that he had struggled to record. He didn’t like thinking about the possibility that one day he wouldn’t come back from a mission, but he knew that the message needed to be heard. He stared down at the bluebird in the palm of his hand, his eyes welling with tears as he thought about what this could all mean.

“Blue bird! Where’d you go?” Echo heard a voice call out, eyes closing as he instantly recognized the angelic tone of who it belonged too. His heart beat quickened and his breathing picked up, suddenly feeling self conscious with himself. A lot had changed since the last time he had seen her and he had no idea what would happen when she finally saw…

“Echo?”

He exhaled a breathe he hadn’t realized had been trapped in his throat, tears threatening to stream down his face as he opened his eyes again to look back at the little blue bird in his hand. The little creature just looked back up at him before fluttering its wings and taking off once more, leaving him alone again.

“Echo is that you?”

Echo’s mind was racing a million parsecs a minute, so many things going on but all he wanted to do wasn’t turn around and confirm that she was really here. Slowly Echo did turn around and the sight that greeted him made him want to crumble.

There stood his beloved, tears prickling her eyes as she stared wide eyed at him, her mouth forming an ‘O’ shape as she seemed to grapple with the shock of the moment. They stood there and stared at one another for a moment, neither having the courage to move forward before Echo spoke up.

“Cyar’ika?” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as he watched the woman he loved breakdown even further. She went to walk towards him but Echo took a small step back, feeling even more self conscious about himself now that he had confirmed it was really her. However Echo regretted his movement the second after he made it as he watched (Y/N)’s face crumble, the hope in her eyes dying ever so slightly.

“Echo,” she pleaded, her voice trembling as she spoke his name out loud for a third time. It was really him, he was alive, even if he looked different to the man she knew. It was still her Echo.

“I-I’m not the same a-as I used to cyare. I-I’ve changed.”

“I don’t care.”

“Really?”

“I don’t care about what has changed physically about you. You’re still my Echo,” she said, her voice cracking as she made her declaration. Echo couldn’t help the smile that graced his face as he opened his arms for her.

“I told you I’d be home soon Mesh’la,” he said and that was all (Y/N) needed to run into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably as she wrapped her arms around his slim waist. His arms found their home around her shoulders, holding her close to his chest as his own tears began to fall.

“I thought I lost you Echo,” she managed to choke out between sobs, Echo’s grip tightening as she spoke.

“I thought I was too ner sarad, but I’m okay now,” he said and felt her nod into his chest. They stayed there for a while, just holding one another as they grappled with this new, almost perfect reality. Echo pulled away slightly from the hug, tilting (Y/N)’s chin up and not waiting a second more before he planted a firm yet gentle kiss to her lips.

(Y/N) tensed briefly before relaxing again, reciprocating the kiss with just as much passion and love. It had been so long since they had seen each other and she knew there was much to discuss but for now, both Echo and (Y/N) were content to be in each others arms again.

He finally came home!

—————

I hope you all enjoyed this! There will be many more stories to come!

Part 2 anyone?

(Fully Edited January 22nd, 2025)

84 notes · View notes

shmowder · 27 days ago

Note

requesting anything nsfw kainburov but it’s totally ok if not 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 lov ur old man yaoi memes

Too Late, Too Soon Pt.1

[ Alexander Saburov x Victor Kain ] [Part Two]

[ AO3 mirror]

[Smut, internal homophobia, unfulfilled desires, angst, hatred and love, delusion, feminization, unhealthy coping mechanism, NO love traingles: polyamory wins, merges P1 and P2 canons]

Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine...

Nine O'clock.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...

The handle turns with a squeek, the floorboards creek, the door clicks shut again.

Victor stood up from his chair just as the governor enters the room. The silver tray of tea he set out for guests gets ignored for the second time around. A small respectful distance is maintained between the two of them.

"My condolences, for your family's loss." Brief and rehearsed, a white envelope is set at the edge of his desk. "Simon ment many things to many people."

"Thank you." Victor replied, a short cordial response that didn't offer much room to continue the conversation.

"I assume your family started with the funeral arrangements already?" Yet the governor remained stubborn still.

Pursing his lips into a thin line, Victor summerised as much as he could. "We will, after the day has passed. Georgiy is... besides himself, at the moment. I'm handling the paperwork. The death certificate will follow after. The burial will take place in the family's tomb." Hoping his answer will be satisfactory, this time around.

The body must not be disturbed for 24 hours, family tradition. He couldn't have known, he wasn't there during her funeral.

"And was the decision to hire that famous doctor to look for his murderer one that your brother took on the spot?" Alexander didn't hesitate to pivot the topic of discussion, a clear agenda in mind. "Inviting strangers to meddle into the town's affairs has always been one of his fortes."

"I see you have been acquainted already. A bright ambitious mind, is he not?" And so the younger Kain deflected in return.

"The rest is up to debate." Criticism, he must always spot the flaws in everyone around him. "You're clearly biased. He's a graduate from the same institution you're planning to get your degree from."

If only it was any other person, Victor might have been touched at their attentiveness to his whereabouts and future plans.

If only.

"Maria foresaw greatness in him," so should've Katerina, how come your wife never spoke of him? All Mistresses' visions allign. At least, true Mistresses—But, he knew better than to voice those thoughts. "My brother is a hard to impress man. I'm sure he will prove himself in due time."

"I sent him to Lyuricheva to act as his aid." Two peas in a pod. "Let's hope he doesn't turn out to be another Stamatin case, for his own sake." The last part was spoken through gritted teeth.

"I don't think so. It's nearly an impossibility..." He lied. "But, if the worst comes to be, I trust in you to handle the matter as delicately as you had previously, governor." Sprinkling the backhanded compliment on top.

"And I trust in your brother to abuse his jurisdiction to approve yet another last minute insanity plea." Blunt and to the point, how abrasive his insults were always irritated Victor. Social etiquette was lost on him, it seemed. These situations should be handled delicately. Gloves are a requirement for politics. The art of subtlety is of the utmost importance, yet the dear governor walked around with a loaded gun.

"You had him examined." Victor played up his anger, replying with rehearsed exasperation. "Repeatedly, may I add. Much to the displeasure of his twin."—It took both of Maria and Eva to talk him down—"All great artists are known to face strife... Peter's predicament is the cost of his ingenious mind." Never true anger, merely the pretence of one, the aesthetics of sharp teeth.

"Your Andrey made his displeasure known loud and clear." But of course, not even the devil could intimidate a governor like him. "Beating three psychiatrists to an inch of their lives. Those architects will be the downfall of the Kains' legacy, mark my words." Rubbing his failure in with another direct insult, Victor wondered if his attempts at intimidation even ment anything to the other man. To Saburov's eyes, more akin to the mewling of a kitten than any bark or roar, perhaps.

"Why have you come here, governor Saburov?" Lifiting his chin high even through his defeat, Victor regained his composer.

"I came to apologise." It stung to admit, that much was clear from the traces of genuine remorse across his steel-like expression "I sent a carrier in my stead last time, when I should've gone in person."

"... We took no offence. losing Nina crumbled many of the delicate infrastructures of the town. It's only sensible for you to be there besides your wife as she paved a new path."

As she rushed to take her place—Victor did not add.

"That's not an excuse. I've neglected my duties to your family. Losing a wife and a brother in the same decade can't be easy. I'm truly sorry, Victor."

Alexander's hand lifted with uncharacteristic hesitation, deciding to land on his shoulder. A reassuring squeeze followed.

Victor doesn't brush it away, even when the voice in his head urges him to. "They will live, within us, as long as their memories remain."

"I should take my leave." Despite his declaration, he doesn't pull his hand away. Neither does he stop Victor from grasping his other hand, lifting it slightly in a display suiting of a gentlemen, caressing the knuckles.

"Stay a little longer, Sasha."

The last word held the weight of the world, turning the air heavy as it was said, for the implications it contained were mutually understood by the two of them. A silent agreement came into fruition.

Where initially it merely laid on his shoulder, it quickly broke through the facade of politeness as Saburov's hand slid up his collarbone. Calloused fingertips brushing against the exposed skin, thumb pressing down on the jugular notch, the tender flesh easily dipping down under his touch, feeling the pulsing of his veins.

Moving up his neck, placing a subtle restriction on the other's air flow, brushing the underside of Victor's jaw with his knuckles. Taking one step closer to him, now cupping the side of his face ever so delicately.

Despite its small transgressions, Victor welcomed the other's hand all the same. Turning his head to the side, burying his lips under the other's palm. A small kiss placed on the inside of the index finger, moving to the middle finger with another light kiss, feeling the thumb digging its nail harshly against the other side of his face just as Victor's lips caressed the ring finger.

Expression as indifferent as ever, Victor was met with fury painted across the other's face. Not directed at him in particular, more an unintended side effect of some internal turmoil the other must be undergoing.

A guilty conscience suited the governor, Victor decided, the contempt in his eyes, the deepening wrinkles around his mouth, the subtle frown to his lips. It was a sight to behold.

The golden ring twinkled under the room's light, shiny and well-maintained. Likewise Kain's bright eyes rivaled it in glimmer, so close against one another.

Victor could never let him know, Saburov must never find out about the thoughts swarming his mind. How one insignificant apology from the governor lips extended a live wire to his heart.

The contrast of the cold precious metal and the alluring heat of soft inviting lips both pressing against his own finger made Saburov's stomach twisted around itself, a bitter taste at the back of his throat. The overwhelming sickening sweetness of sin.

Not a single word spoken as their lips parted to meet one another halfway through. A cautious kiss, wary movements and half-shut eyes. Hyper-aware of every sound contained within the building, of any resemblance to a door squeek, a floorboard creek, of an uninvited guest.

Of the faint footsteps constantly sounding from the upper floor.

Hearts racing too fast to take notice of the other's taste, bodies an inch shy away from pressing against one another, an invisible line they dare not cross yet.

Despite all his sharp words and angular edges, the governor kissed so sweetly, so off-puttingly sensual, considerate in his every move. Polite lips silently asking for permission as if treading on glass, gradually easing the other person into it. Akin to the first kiss at the altar.

It Made Victor wonder if the other ever kissed anyone besides his wife.

It must be that Alexander doesn't know any better, has never learnt any other way to kiss, for all who he's ever laid his lips upon consisted of delicate petals and fragile bones, soft perfumed skin and dainty painted lips.

Katerina was never suited for the dark, not like his own wife was, never like Nina's wild nature.

Victor misses it, the metallic taste of blood on his bruised lips, the hint of black cherry wine at the tip of her tongue, how intrusive it was in movement, slithering inbetween his lips and pushing against his own tongue as if invading his mouth. He was always content to surrender to her. Merely another piece of him to offer up in worship. To plant her flag atop and declare ownership, for the sharp nails dragging down his back and the teeth marks littering his neck can attest to that.

Victor misses her.

The memories swirling around in his brain reignite the hunger in his soul, the faded urges and desires reconstructing themselves.

Closing the distance between them—feeling Saburov's body turn rigid at the sudden proximity. Victor wrapped his arms over the other's shoulders, rendering himself in a complete ease of access, practically inviting the other to feel up his body, and grope him like a piece of meat on display.

Yet, no wandering hands came, much to Victor's displeasure.

The logical conclusion he reached was to push things further in hopes of swaying Saburov into seeing things his way.

Deepening the kiss, teeth grazing Saburov's lips, holding the promise of digging into the tender flesh. Paving the way to force his tongue past the other's lips, further, deeper. Sweeping the roof of his mouth, curling against the other's tongue, meeting all reluctant movements with unwavering intensity.

Victor moved on muscle memory—not his own—in a moment of pure self-indulgence.

To add fuel to the fire, his own leg found a place between the governor's open ones. Pushing his thigh in, parting the hem of the dark coat, pressing against Saburov's most intimate area.

Leaving Alexander aghast at his actions. In all of his life, he never expected such a bold display of obscenity from the younger Kain. What's worse, the burning shame coiling in his chest at the rising tent in his pants. Victor's thighs were nothing like his wife's, never plush or plump, more muscular and toned, devoid of anything that would resemble a speck of femininity. So why? Why did they feel nothing short of heavenly against his body?

The Kains were always shameless.

That must be why Victor knew how to work up another man. That must be why his lips slotted against Alexander's very own dry ones so perfectly; it wasn't his first time doing this.

The Kains were always shameless.

So it's them. It's Victor's influence he should attribute this sodomy to. Not himself, for his proprietary and piety spoke for themselves.

The Kains were always shameless.

Which is precisely why his hands were hovering above the other's hips—so squarish unlike a woman's round ones—trembling fingers unsure of what to grab, of where to land, of how far past the line to cross.

Placing them on the lower end of his back, just a dip below what's appropriate, and a good distance away from any incriminating areas.

Pulling at the fabric of Victor's shirt ever so slowly, pooling the white material in his grasp.

How humbly the younger Kain dressed always bothered him, even his daughter—Maria—wore more extravagant clothes in comparison to how her father paraded around in a simple white dress shirt and black pants. It always felt intentional, this poor taste of a display. What exactly was he trying to prove? Alexander thought. Aiming to make the ruling families appear as shallow people who only ever care about frivolous appearance, by minimising his own wardrobe?

The shirt wrinkled in his fists, the more and more he lifted of it. Melting into the infectious ferventness, kissing the other man back with rivalling passion. Grinding into his thigh, absolved of sin and shame.

What irked Alexander more, were the cuffed sleeves exposing his arms, the pale skin giving way to visible veins—ones his eyes couldn't help but trace. Thin wrists curving into slender fingers, precise in their every movement, dextrous enough to tinker with the innerworkings of clocks, nimble to vivisect the mechanical guts of the most delicate machinery.

The clock in their house was made by him. It has broken before. He has seen the younger Kain get down on his knees, carefully holding the thinnest of tools between two fingers to realign the cogs to the correct position. That scene was burnt into his memory from that day on forward.

Until the very hem of Victor's shirt was added to the pile. completely exposing his back.

Maybe he should gift Victor a suit, a proper one. The many layers and extravagant fabric are sure to shatter any false image of a humble saint Victor fooled the people into constructing about him. With how much the Kains idolised etiquette and aesthetics, pressurising him to wear it would be a task even a child is capable of. Afterall, it's only proper to wear a gift someone of high importance has given you. Of course... the colours would need to compliment his complexion, the pattern should suit his height, the pocket square should match the divine colour of his eyes—made of silk no less.

The exposed skin tempting Alexander into running his hand atop it, tracing the spine in the centre of the other's bare back, feeling up the his shoulder blades, and pull him closer against his own body.

Only the last part he manages, a half shirtless Victor Kain pressed against the outer coat of the governor.

Alexander thought about feeling up his stomach, cupping his flat chest. Would he enjoy a thumb twirling against his nipple like a woman does? Would he have a reaction to his palm pressing against the naval below his stomach, where a womb should be.

Katerina does.

Saburov's hips unconsciously push into Victor's thigh, grinding back into them. The arms around his neck tightened, Victor's lips hungry and unsatisfied, still seeking more of him.

How beautifully she gave in under him, how sweetly she reacted to his every touch. Her moans a melody to his ears, the most angelic of sounds pouring from her lips with his head buried between her thighs. Alexander is not one for arrogance, but the one thing he allowed himself to flourish in pride about, is how hard he tries to be the epitome of a dutiful husband. He has never looked at Katerina with anything but love in his eyes, he has never neglected her needs, nor demanded more than she had energy for. Memorising all of her favourite spots, spoiling his lover rotten in and out of bed. Bringing her to the heights of pleasure while holding her hand, showering her in kisses, tending to her in the aftermath.

Alexander's body finally gives in, tension leaving his jaw as he welcomes the other's tongue inside. Melting into Victor's embrace, walls lowering down, a tired look in his eyes.

A faint sound resembling a whine slips through his guard, Victor swallows it up. Neither of them acknowledge it further.

They've been sleeping in seperate bedrooms for how many years... it felt like an eternity to Saburov. Memories, all he has are memories of her flowery perfume, of messy black strands framing her face like a halo on the pillow.

But she's alive, safe and sound in her bedroom–once their shared bedroom. And that's enough, to kiss her hand is enough, the fleeting hugs are enough, to love her from afar is enough. To ask for more would be greed.

Victor is uncharted territory, mentally and physically. Saburov has no guarantee that this isn't just some elaborate plan to take advantage of a moment of weakness from the governor... But then, what kind of plan would include dragging your own family name through the mud as well?

It feels surreal, to do something out of the pure desire to do it. He has gotten so used to the game of chess that is ruling this town, he has forgotten he is human at all.

That the Kains are humans, no matter how hard they try to sprout wings and break free of this proclaimed larva stage. To transcend the limits of flesh and blood, in Saburov's eyes, nothing but a kids' pretend game of Gods.

It's been far too long, and there's a warm body in front of him. A Kain's. A man who presumably done it with many other men before him.

But even then, even here, they can't be free of the discreet struggle for power. Alexander is out of his element, Victor is not. The control is slipping away from his fingertips; he must regain it back.

His hands are rough, calloused palms and faded burn marks of an incident long past. One he keeps tracing up and down the naked back of Victor, feeling the growing shivers. The other he brings inbetween them, cupping between Victor's legs, over the fabric of his pants, feeling the protuding bulge twitch at the contact.

There's a curious look in Victor's eyes. Breaking the kiss, a thin line of saliva forms for a second before it falls apart. Victor can't reach the other's neck with his knotted scarf in the way, so he settled for littering the side of his face with smalls kisses and kitten licks. Going from a completely obscene makeout to the most innocent form of kisses without a trace of irony gives the governor a pause, as the realisation of how begrudgingly into it he is, dawns on him.

The faux innocence Victor plays up, the soft cheek kisses, the intimate brushing of his nose against the other, the adorable nibbling on his earlobe. It should disgust him, not invigorate him even more. Those sultry eyes held nothing but sin in their depth, who is he to act to innocuous and pure while grinding his thigh against Alexander's clothed cock.

Worse is the knowing look in the Victor's gaze. As if he digged up some hidden secret he held no shame to abuse. Saburov should've know those curious eyes never spelt anything but trouble.

His mind is slipping away from him. To say he enjoyed the faux coy act of the other would be the underestimation of the century. He enjoys it so much, he is beyond horrified at himself when the other whispers sweet nothing into his ear.

"You're doing so well, my little dove."

As if setting his face on fire, little should fluster a grown man of his age these days. But to hear those endearing words in the younger Kain's voice? It was like a harsh shove over the edge. A fast approaching climax, cock twitching with every small kiss Victor Kain skirted around his ear. Cock pulsing with the thrum of his heartbeat. A final push of Victor's thigh against it was all that it took for wetness to seep through, staining the other's pants in a translucent white.

Stifling the groan following his climax took all of his willpower. Reduced to finishing in his own pants, all wounded ego, overwhelmed libido, and fast racing heart, Alexander Saburov will never forgive the other man for this.

He needs to shut him up, and fast.

Biting Victor's neck is out of the question. It's simply uncouth, it's not who he is, and it will never be something he'll do. The closest he's done was paint his wife's neck with kisses, but even then he was careful not to leave a bruise.

Well, a Kain is not worthy of such courtesy.

For the younger Kain walked around everywhere with the top button always undone, exposing his own collarbone like a whore. Maybe this will teach Victor some manners, even if the other man is 14 years his senior, Alexander's still his governor, and being the brother of that whimsical child Georgiy is all Victor will ever amount to.

Gripping harsher against the tent at the front of his pants, rubbing punishingly fast. The intense friction is everything Victor missed having, pressing himself harder into the other's hand, encouraging Saburov down this path of roughness.

And when the other's lips wrapped around a bare patch of skin on Victor's neck and sucked hard, it was the feeling of a hickey forming that completely flooded his brain with long-forgotten euphoria. Hips stuttering in their movement, left gasping for air under Saburov's stern gaze. Deliberately holding eye contact as the waves of pleasure went through the younger Kain.

Coming down from the height of pleasures, like breaking free of a trance, mutual dread formed a pit at the bottom of their stomachs. They wanted nothing more than to push the other away, bury this under the rug, and never face one another ever again.

But they stayed in each other's arms, holding one another. They stayed despite the despair chipping at corners of their minds.

For Alexander it was a case of principles, he's not one for clumsy rushed sex where he abandons a partner after getting his fill. The discipline embedded within him, the duty he adheres to, whether he wanted or not.

For Victor, it was a matter of pride, he's not one to curl away in shame and fear in the aftermath of an event. The Kains abhor self-flagellation, once an axe swings, you must always follow and see it to the end, no matter how trifling or impious.

High emotions simmered down as the moment passed, carefully unwrapping themselves from one another. High emotions simmered down as the moment passed, carefully unwrapping themselves from one another.

Saburov's hand found the other's waist, unsure of the next course of action; he usually took his wife to soak in a warm lavender scented bath, how Katerina would always coax him into joining her, how easily his self-will faltered when it came to her requests. For such a woman with a gloomy reputation, the absurd amount of bubbles in her every bath amused him to no end. He'd wash her hair, and she'd hum a melody, softly echoing against the bathroom tiles.

But it feels improper for this situation, seeing as he's not under his own roof.

As for Victor, he couldn't help but eye the silver tray on his desk, recalling how in every aftermath, his wife would bring him a warm cup of tea in bed. For all the wicked titles and horrible names the townsfolk called her by, none would believe the very same Sinister Nina would massage the knots out of his shoulders, soothe any bite marks, and hug his face close to her chest as he drifted into slumber.

Too bad he's in a state of mourning, unable to eat or drink out of respect for Simon's last request.

Alexander settled for coaxing the other back into his chair instead, Victor offered a small word of gratitude in response. Hearing his still breathless voice, Alexander attempted to seem unaffected. Pretending the memory of his pleasure-filled gasp hasn't been etched into his mind.

With Saburov, his coat easily covered any shameful spots or remains on his pants. While the younger Kain was a complete mess, his utter being glaring evidence of what went down in this room.

From his ridden up wrinkled shirt, to the two damp patches on his pants, one on his thigh, and the other belonging to him. The flushed face and half-lidded eyes, the completely exposed neck with a singular hickey far down.

God, Saburov thought, even if you took away the ruined clothes, his sinful face completely incriminated him. The usually indifferent tone replaced by a clement one, intimacy residing in each syllable. The somber never-changing facial expression somehow morphed into a hungry lustful look more fitting those barely clothed dancers in the pub.

He's not into men; he can't be. For no other man has ever looked at him like Victor does. No other man ever made his imagination run wild from the simplest of actions. No other man drove him this close to the brink of insanity like the younger Kain.

He has no attraction to men—he justified—for Victor Kain is an outlier amongst men. In fact, Saburov is sure that if he dressed him up in a soft blue nightgown, adorned his cheeks with blush and painted pink across his lips, then surely that'll make any honest man question his orientation.

For he is not to blame, it's the Kains who are always shameless. The irresistible siren's call has drowned many men better than him. For all of Victor's virtues, he remains Nina's husband, the very same Nina that could force blood from a stone. She must've done something to him, broke something that made him... so enticing to those he shouldn't be with.

Neither of them were truly satisfied with ending it here, longing for more, starved for one another's touch, for at least a full night of passion, to get their fill of one another's embrace.

"I should take my leave." Alexander repeated, for the second time this day.

Victor stood up again, and like clockwork, Saburov's hand found its way to his waist "I would offer to walk you to the door, governor, but as it stands I'm currently indisposed."

"Do stay where you are, and compose yourself, that dear Bachelor of yours will be making rounds today."

"I'll keep your words in mind"

An uncomfortable feeling gnawed at Saburov's core, the thought of turning around and leaving just like this didn't sit right with him.

Wordlessly, he cupped the other's face, mimicking what he did at the start. Moving closer, slightly parted lips pressing into Victor's. A tender kiss, too short for the other's liking, too sweet, too delicate.

Everything Nina was not.

Everything Alexander is to Katerina.

The hand should dig into his waist, not hold it like he's made of porcelain that'd crack under the smallest of forces. The kiss should steal his breath away, toy with the notion of choking him to death before granting her mercy, intead it was pitying almost, like kissing the coffin of a dead spouse.

Most of all, it showcased how brittle Victor's influnce was on him, for Alexander all but immediately reverted back to his old habits.

Ending far too soon, a bittersweet goodbye. "Send a carrier to inform me of when the funeral will be taking place. My wife would like to attend and pay her respects for Simon."

"I will, do send my regards for Katerina."

Adjusting his coat, the governor took his leave. The handle turns with a squeek, the floorboards creek, the door clicks shut again.

Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine...

Ten thirty-eight.

Picking up the silver tray, Victor went to reheat the kettle. Cinnamon tea with a sprinkle of sugar, her favourite. Walking upstairs for a change of clothes shortly after.

A quarter to eleven.

Back in his office, sitting in his chair, staring blankly at the death certificate of an immortal man, awaiting his signature.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine...

#might come back and edit (???) some stuff who knows for now it is done #OLD MAN YAOI OLD MAN YAOI #♧ships #♧Victor #♧Alexander #<- now I know the ship name thank you #also I first read this when I was half asleep and thought you were asking for an unkown Kain x Artemy #Victor Kain #alexander saburov #Victor x Saburov #I need to sleep #pathologic #kainburov #♧kainburov

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