#basically combining two headcanons for funsies and angsty aus

[misscrazyfangirl321]

whatever ur alice syfy ship is: star wars au?

(Asks that make me Google "Is time travel a thing in Star Wars"? Apparently the answer is technically yes, but only once. Good enough for me.)

-

“Alice, you know I love you, but this is insane!” 

She pauses, just for a moment, fingers hovering over her worn nerf-leather pouch. “You love me?”

It’s almost comical the way he freezes, eyes widening, the racing of his mind almost visible. “I-of course I do, uh, buddy. Pal. Anyway, that’s not really the-you’re going back in time to kill your great-grandmother, so I’m not sure it’s really the time to talk about-”

“I’m not going to kill her.” She resumes packing, shaking her head. For the moment, at least, she’ll let his little slip go (there may not be any point in saying anything anyway, if this works), though she cannot stop the slightest smile from tugging at her lips. If only his smuggler buddies could see him now; his reputation for being calm, cool, collected, and in control would shatter to a million bits. “I’m going to talk to her. To stop her before the dark side can take over.”

He gulps, glancing around, though it’s only the two of them in the room. Maybe he thinks the Force itself reports back to the Empire; for all she knows, maybe it does. “Right, sure, just going to have a friendly chat with the woman who led the takeover of the entire known universe. I’m sure that couldn’t possibly go wrong.” 

She grimaces. “It couldn’t possibly be worse than this.” There are only three groups left now: the Empire, the enslaved, and the dying. The last of the rebellion was crushed years ago, and with it, the last of the hope. Alice has poured every moment since then into this: desperately trying to finish her parents’ final project, a time machine they could never quite get to function. Now that it is, she knows exactly what to do.

“Um, yes, it could. ‘Course it could.” He looks at her like she’s suddenly announced a distant relation to Jabba. “You could die. Or stop existing.” 

Sweet, sweet man. She shakes her head, dropping the last of her supplies into her pouch with a sigh. Turning to him, she offers a weak smile. “Technically, she and I aren’t even blood relatives. Grandmother adopted my dad. So even if Patricia dies, I should still exist.” 

“Should. See, I really don’t like that should. If she dies, maybe she never raises your grandmother. Maybe your grandmother doesn’t know enough about kids to take in your father. So maybe your father lives across the galaxy, and never meets your mother.” 

“That’s a lot of maybes.” She arches a brow. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“Sometime, probably.” There’s desperation in his eyes now that breaks her heart. “Even if you don’t kill her, even if everything goes to plan, you might still erase yourself. Without Darth DeWitt, your parents might never work together, and-”

Frustration wells up inside of her against her will. She’s dealt with this, she has; she’s faced head-on all the ways this could possibly go wrong, has swallowed down her desperate fears, and now he’s digging them all back up, and she cannot deal with it. “I’m not more important than the whole universe, Hatter!”

“You are to me!” 

The fight seems to drain from both of them at once, exhaustion overtaking them. She sags back onto her bed, sitting upright and watching him. For several long moments the only sounds are their harsh, unsteady breaths. 

“You don’t mean that,” she says finally, quietly.

He matches her tone, though he can’t meet her eyes. “Part of me does. Part of me wants to smuggle you away to some remote colony somewhere too far and too small for the Empire to care. So long as we paid our taxes and kept our heads down, we’d be alright.” 

Oh, it does sound tempting. There are planets like that, she knows; not many, and not overly comfortable, but survivable. And if she changes things… Even if she continues to exist, there won’t be any coming back. Whatever world she makes, it won’t be her world, and if there is a her, she’ll be back in the past. No room for two Alices, right? Literal lifetimes away from all of her friends for the rest of her life… Her heart twists. “And the other part?” The words barely come.

One breath. Two. “The other part of me knows you’d never forgive me, or yourself.” The words hang between them, an undeniable reality. She can’t stand the thought of this, but neither can she run from it. Abruptly, he chuckles. It’s weak, forced, and clearly for her benefit. “Besides, I really hate paying taxes.”

It’s a pitiful excuse for a joke, but she laughs all the same-laughs until she cries, and he crosses the room, gathering her into his arms with a tentativeness that quickly fades, lost in kisses to her hair and softly whispered words.

“Let me come with you,” he pleads, when she’s calm.

She’s shaking her head before she can think. “It’s too dangerous. You could be killed.”

“I live for danger.” He takes a breath. “Besides, I’m not more important than the whole universe.”

You are to me. She wants to say it, but it wouldn’t be true, anymore than it was when he said it. So instead, she brushes her lips against his-softly, just once-and exhales. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have backup.”

“Never hurts, no,” he agrees too quickly, looking adorably dazed. She releases him, pulling the strap of her pouch over her shoulder, and he hesitates. “Alice?”

“Yeah?”

“You said you didn’t plan to kill her. But if-if this doesn’t work, if you talk to her and she chooses the dark side… What’s the plan then?”

She offers him a grim smile, pocketing her lightsaber. For the woman who would be directly responsible for-literally-billions of deaths? “Off with her head.”