#I was fighting for my life with this one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

varpusvaras · 7 months ago

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Fox is dead.

He knows he is. His life hadn't been over instantly when his body had been suddenly and violently grabbed and twisted beyond what he could take. He had lied there, after, for a moment longer, knowing nothing but pain and the sinking feeling that he was dying.

He is here, now, not where his body had been left to die, but somewhere else. Somewhere he does not recognise, but knows, still, almost instinctually.

It looks like a grand hall with golden rivers and silver skies, so large that he cannot see how far the walls actually go. He tries to see, but everything is simply too far away.

There are others around him. Fox can see them and hear them moving around, walking past him, stepping around him like they don't see him but still know he is there.

Fox tries to look at some of them. He can see faces, so, so many of them, and if he focuses long enough on one of them, he can see it more clearly for a second, but no more. It is like they are far away from him as well, too far away for him to actually see them.

He watches as they go. They all follow the rivers, each a different one, disappearing somewhere alongside them after a while. Fox knows, somehow, that he is supposed to also follow one of the rivers to somewhere, wherever it may lead him to.

He hears one of them, faintly, if he listens very carefully. It's like the river wants him to follow, but cannot make him do so. Fox also wants to follow, but cannot make himself do so.

He knows the reason as well. He knows that he has done mistakes. Many of them. So, so many of them. He knows some of those mistakes have been too grave for his brothers to forgive.

Fox knows he is not welcome anymore.

The river sighs, and then flows away from him.

Fox stands there, and watches as faces he cannot see walk past him and disappear.

---

He waits.

It is the only thing he can do, after all. Wait.

It's a strange thing, waiting there. Every time he looks somewhere and watches someone, and then looks away for what feels even barely a second, there is already someone else there in their place. He needs to not forget himself, if he wants to not get lost there. He figures that out pretty quickly.

It's cold, there. The rivers look warm and the skies look clear, but Fox cannot feel them. He cannot feel anyone walking past him. They are there, just like he is, but at the same time, it is like they are existing on parallel realities, and only getting a glimpse of what is going on behind the glass that separates them.

Perhaps it's just Fox who sees them. Perhaps no one else sees him.

He tries not to think about that too much.

---

There are a lot of brothers walking around him.

Fox can see their faces clearly. They do notice him too. Many walk towards him, if they see him, and some of them speak to him, if they get close enough.

Fox wonders if they notice him because the Force recognises them as the same, or at least close enough. If the Force recognises them as kin, even when Fox has been casted aside.

His brothers want him to come with them. They can still hear the river, calling them, guiding them forward to somewhere they are meant to go. His brothers try to take his hands and take him with them. Fox had not expected that, if he is being completely honest. He would understand it, if the others were thinking that he was just any brother.

But no. Some of them do recognise him, and still reach for him, even if they are not wearing the Guard red.

"Of course you can come with", one brother in 212th gold tells him. "The Commander always spoke very fondly of you. You are our brother. Of course you can come with us."

He reaches for Fox, and he makes contact, and even when his hand is warm, Fox's legs are stuck on the ground.

The brother looks at Fox with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry", he says. "You are our brother."

"I know", Fox tells him. "I know. Can you say hi to everyone for me?"

"Of course", his brother tells him, and then follows the river away from Fox.

---

The Guards, once they figure out that Fox cannot follow them, want to stay with him.

"You are our Commander", they all tell him. "We're not going to leave you here alone!"

They stay, all of them, as long as they are able to. They hold onto him, like Fox is their anchor, the only thing keeping them from drifting away with the river.

Fox lets them stay with him, for a while, but eventually he tells all of them to go.

"Don't worry", he tells them. "Others will come along. I'll be fine. Say hello to everyone for me, alright? Go now. I'll be fine."

There is always resisting, but eventually, they do leave. They have to. The river is guiding them forward, and they have to follow it. Fox cannot hear the river, and his brothers cannot guide him themselves to it.

Fox stands there, and watches them leave.

---

Stone is the first one to arrive after Fox.

It's strange, to look at him. He looks both like the Stone Fox remembers, and like Stone Fox doesn't quite recognise, Stone who is slightly older and has a new scar across his face.

It's still Stone, though.

Stone stays with him for a long, long time.

But eventually, he leaves as well.

"I'll be fine", Fox says, for the hundreth time. "Say hi to Thorn for me."

"I will", Stone promises. "I will."

---

After Stone comes Hound. He stays for a long time as well, and promises to say hello to Thorn and Stone.

After Hound comes Bly.

Bly puts his arms around Fox and holds him.

"It's not fair", he says, again and again. "It's not fair, this isn't how any of this is supposed to go! It doesn't matter if someone has called you a Dar'vod, you are my brother! That should matter more!"

"I know", Fox says.

"Why are you so calm about this?" Bly asks him. "You are stuck here! You should be with all of us!"

"Bly, please", Fox says. "I can't. Please don't...please don't remind me too much. Please don't."

Bly goes quiet. He still holds onto Fox for a long time.

Eventually, he has to let go.

"It's okay", Fox promises him. "Say hi to Ponds for me."

---

Thire comes last.

Fox knows more time has passed now. It's strange, to look at Thire, and see his youngest brother there, but also someone who is a lot older than Fox ever got to be now.

He looks a lot like Prime before he died, Fox thinks, but doesn't say it out loud.

He also thinks it's a good thing Thire looks so much older than Fox. Fox knows he wouldn't have been able to endure his little brother dying young like Fox had.

"We have a chance", Thire tells him. "There are a lot of people standing against the Empire. Bail and Breha are with them."

Fox almost starts crying then and there. It's been- he doesn't even know how long it has been since someone has said those names to him.

"They're," Fox swallows, and tries again, "they're alright?"

"Yes", Thire says. "They are. I let them take your body, you know? You're there with them."

It's strange, to think about what happened to him after his death. Fox has been here the whole time, not there.

He guesses whatever was left of him there was what was left of him to everyone else, as well.

Fox thinks about it for a while, and then turns back to Thire.

"What else has been going on?" He asks, because he already knows that Thire is going to be staying for a while.

So Thire stays, and he tells his stories, until he has nothing else to say.

He promises, like all of Fox's brothers before him, to say hi to everyone for him. He hugs Fox for a long while, before he finally lets go.

Fox watches him leave for as long as he can.

---

The Galaxy is big, and there is always someone dying.

Fox has accepted that to be just the inevitable way of life. Everyone and everything dies eventually, even the stars. He thinks he had heard that from someone while he was still alive.

Still, some deaths are more tragic than others. Some deaths are ones that Fox thinks shouldn't have happened, not at least in the way that they did, no matter the inevitable nature of death itself.

He has seen it all pretty much, by now. Many people have been crying when walking past him, but as far as Fox has seen, they have all always dried their tears before they disappear with their rivers. He has seen anger and despair, both in a way that suits normal lives and in a way that he recognises to suit lives that are ended by the brutality of war. They all seem to always get past it, though, before they continue their journey past where he cannot see them anymore.

Fox has learned that it is normal for there to be a lot of people around him, and for them to be in distress.

But still, he knows something is wrong.

Maybe it's the way the people just seem to appear, all of a sudden, all at once, instead of coming in many rivulets. Maybe it's in the way that people are now moving. Many are still walking towards, around and past him, like they usually do, but many, too many, way too many, are running around, shouting and screaming names, searching for faces with desperation and grief written all over their own, whenever Fox gets to look at them for long enough.

It feels less like a river now, flowing towards their ends, but like a wild rapids, like rogue waves being pushed around against shores that are too small and tight for them.

Fox looks at them more closely.

He has seen it all, by now. Adults, elderly, teenagers, even children. People die at all ages all the time.

But this? There are so many of them, searching for each other. All of them are crying. He sees so many small children, healthy looking, yelling for their parents, for their siblings, friends, anyone, and just as many adults doing the same, searching for their children and parents and anyone they know, and they just keep coming.

Fox tries to look at them, tries to listen at them for long enough to figure out what is going on, but it's even more difficult now, when there are so many faces and voices around him. Something terrible, he can tell, because there seems to be no end for them, and whenever he gets to hear more than one word from any of them, they all sound the same, like they all speak the same language in the same way.

Fox doesn't understand how that can be. How can this many people die like this, all seemingly at once, in one place? He has seen war before, but even the largest massacres had been nothing like this.

He listens to them more, and there is now something familiar in the way they all talk, in a way that suddenly makes Fox go cold, like he was dying himself all over again.

He knows it. He knows the way they are all speaking, he has listened to that very same way of speech so many times.

Suddenly Fox understands everyone around him searching and screaming very well, because he is doing the same now.

Not screaming yet, but definitely searching. He tries to look at all the faces, to see if he sees them, and he prays to something, anything, everything, that he doesn't find what he is looking for.

He doesn't need to look into the faces of people around him to see them, eventually, because in the sea of faces and voices on the other side of a misty window, he sees two more than clearly.

Fox understands the grief in everyone's faces now too.

He is definitely screaming, now.

No words at first, no. Just a sound that makes its way out of him without him being able to control it at all. He sees them hear it, because they stop, and they start to look around, their eyes searching the people around them.

Fox hasn't had to breathe in a long, long time, but now he feels like he is out of air anyway. He drags his voice back in, and pushes it back in where it can be formed into words, and he screams again.

"Breha!" His voice is tearing up at its invisible seams. "Bail!"

He looks at them, and that's the moment they look at him and see him, standing there, in the same place where he has been standing his whole time there.

Fox watches as they start running as well, still looking at him, and then they are there, and Bail is just a little bit closer and throws his arms around him.

Fox stumbles, his legs ripping away from the ground. He doesn't get to wonder about it for too long, because Bail is holding him now. He is warm, just the way Fox achingly clearly remembers him to be, and then Breha is there as well, her arms going between Bail's to hold onto Fox just as tight.

They all stand there, for a moment which length Fox cannot measure, in each others arms.

Breha is the first one to speak.

"Fox", she says, in a way she always used to say his name, and Fox is barely able to keep the tears that have sprung into his eyes from falling.

Her hand reaches up and touches his jaw and then his cheek.

"Fox", Bail says then, as well, and Fox cannot hold it in anymore.

He cries.

He is pretty sure they are all crying.

There is another hand on his face, now, both of them wiping away the tears still falling down.

"Fox", Breha calls him again. "Fox, my love, our love. Look at me."

What else can Fox do, than to do as she asks of him?

It is Breha and Bail, standing there, just like he remembers them, but not quite. When Fox blinks, there are definitely grey streaks in Bail's beard and hair, and there is a long, silvery strand framing Breha's face. More lines around their eyes when Fox looks closer, ones he doesn't remember seeing there before.

It doesn't matter to him, not really. He knows them, still.

It's a strange mix of emotions he is feeling. Relief, of finally seeing them again. Happiness, brought by being held by them again.

Sorrow, for seeing them both there, emerging from the chaos of grief, knowing that they are here with him now, because they are both dead.

"Why?" He asks, because he doesn't know what else to ask. It's one word, but they understand it still.

The same grief is on their faces as well.

"The Empire", Bail starts, and pauses for a moment, like speaking pains him, "has figured out how to build weapons of mass destruction beyond anything we could've imagined. We've been fighting against them for a long time now, and...we finally got caught. Alderaan is no more."

"I don't understand", Fox says. "That doesn't make any sense."

Except it does, in a sense that it explains why there were so many of them all of a sudden, all frightened, like they hadn't had any time to prepare for their deaths. But it doesn't, because Fox cannot, will not believe that there is a weapon that can make a whole planet and everyone on it disappear.

"I know", Breha says, soothing, like she isn't the one who has just lost her own life and everything else. "It's not all lost. Our daughter, she's out there. She has the key to stopping them."

"She will do it", Bail says, and he sounds proud, so proud. "She will. We know she will."

Fox believes them when they say it.

"Of course she will", he says. "She is your daughter, after all. If she is anything like you, she can do anything."

They look at him gently, then.

"Our daughter", Breha repeats. "Our daughter. Just because you weren't there doesn't mean she is any less yours. She carries you with her as much as we did."

"She takes after you very much as well", Bail says, and there is a sparkle in his eyes again as he speaks. "Determined and strong, just like you."

Fox cries again. They don't rush him to stop, just stay there with him and hold him until everything has been spent.

"I wish I would've known her", Fox says. "I wish I would've been there."

"We wish so too", Bail says. "There wasn't a day we didn't wish that you were with us still."

"But you are now", Breha says, brushing her fingers softly over the skin under Fox's eye. "You are with us again. We have all the time now to tell you everything."

That is the moment Fox remembers that he can move again.

He has to make sure. He lifts one leg, and takes half a step back, and then makes the other leg follow.

He can move, but he still cannot hear the river.

"I would love that", he says. "But I...I don't know where to go."

"Don't worry", Bail says. He reaches for Fox's hand, and takes it into his, firmly and securely. "We know. We'll show you."

Breha laces her fingers with Fox's as well, tying herself to him like a safety line on the outside of a ship. They turn to face the golden rivers, meandering towards their ends under the silver skies, and they take Fox with them.

#I was fighting for my life with this one #I literally had to take too crying breaks #every once in a while you have to write something that is very canon compliant #so that you can continue to ignore the canon after it #fox just needed other guides to help him #okay good now that his is done I can go back to my no order 66 fix it :)#sw #tcw #my writing #ficlets #commander fox #bail organa #breha organa #commander stone #commander thire #bail/breha/fox #Star Writing

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inkskinned · 5 months ago

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one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.

the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.

like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.

but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.

so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.

i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?

but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?

sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?

and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.

nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.

the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!

and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.