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angelwars11 · 4 years ago

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Title: Gold

Prompt: Gold

Pairing: Echo5

Rating: G

Word count: 1k

‘The sunset is truly a blessing to see. It’s like a refined painting, painted by the most talented artist in the entire galaxy. It’s a perfect backdrop to the tall spiraling glass buildings, the speeders flying in the distance, and soon the colors of violet, blue, and magenta clash; indicating that nightlife has just begun.’

—

‘True Love is a meeting of two souls, fully accepting the dark and the light within each other, bound by the courage to grow through struggle into bliss.’

This is day 3 of the ClonecestInJuly challenge! I finally finished this one. Again, I am taking my time with this July thing because it’s stressful; so instead of rushing myself (and because I want to write long prompts) I probably will take this challenge all the way into August XD Screw July!! Thank you to my beta reader/editor @maplerosekisses! Yet again, you have done an amazing job and I am very appreciative!! I hope you all enjoy this one! ALL FLUFF!! It’s so cute and the ending is just perfect. uwu

*Warning: You may need to go to the hospital if your heart is throbbing from how cute this is!

The sunset is truly a blessing to see. It’s like a refined painting, painted by the most talented artist in the entire galaxy. It’s a perfect backdrop to the tall spiraling glass buildings, the speeders flying in the distance, and soon the colors of violet, blue, and magenta clash; indicating that nightlife has just begun.

Coruscant has been blessed with beautiful sights from dusk till dawn—even the clouds look so fluffy and salmon pink. Fives breathes it in at peace, where no one can find him. Well, actually, someone has found him; and it’s not a random somebody but rather the person he fell in love with a long time ago. Echo. Beautiful, attractive, soft-to-the-touch Echo, who’s eyes captivate my attention every time.

For the first year they’d been together, he couldn’t imagine ever needing more than just this, just being with Echo. But that changed when he watched one of his brothers face something he hoped he would never have to. One of his squadmates from Torrent lost his lover during a really bloody battle before he had the chance to tell his cyare he loved him. Fives remembers hearing quiet sobs coming from his teammate’s bunk that night.

After that, Fives started thinking deeply and very carefully about the things he might regret not doing.

Death doesn’t discriminate. That’s something he knows all too well.

Decision made, he’d taken Echo out on their last night in Coruscant. The full works—dinner, a romantic walk in the park—a classic perfect date. Which leads to where he is now. With the wind blowing against his face and a hand wrapped around his own, he feels warm. All of this is a surprise for his cyare. Fives turns his gaze onto him, Echo, and Echo’s golden eyes look back, shining with adoration.

“Fives, I’m really happy that you dragged me all the way up here. I’ve never seen anything quite this beautiful. I mean, I knew that Coruscant’s sunsets are jaw-dropping, but this!” Echo gestures with a wave of his hand to the red sky. “This is more than I could've dreamed. Did...did you do this...all for me?” The corner of Echo’s lips quirks up. Fives brushes one finger down the side of Echo’s face and nods.

“Well, I can’t take credit for the sunset,” —there’s that fond eye-roll he loves. “But of course. I did it for you because I wanted us to have a good time together. Just the two of us, and not with those scoundrels back at 79′s.”

Echo chuckles at that and Fives’ heart skips a beat.

“I appreciate it. I really do. I wish we could stay like this forever, but we’ll be needed back at the front real soon.” He looks down sadly, but Fives tips his chin up for a kiss. Echo’s lips are soft, delicate, like butterfly wings.

Echo raises his hand and pulls Fives towards him, and suddenly, the weight in his pocket that he’s been hyper-aware of all night feels so much lighter. It’s still there, a solid reminder of what his last surprise is, but it doesn’t feel nearly as heavy anymore.

Fives feels that if he kisses him long enough maybe he can survive on just sharing Echo’s breath, but all too soon, Fives’ chest begins to burn, screaming for him to breathe. Fives’ hand skims the side of Echo’s face and he slowly breaks the kiss.

Echo licks his lips longingly, for the electric taste of him, before opening his eyes as well. On cue, the sun starts to dip below the horizon behind Echo’s head, splashing green across the red-orange sky.

Fives stares at him in awe. He’s hypnotized by the pure beauty in front of him. Echo’s eyes are a deep ocean of gold and honey; he sees his reflection in them. Fives opens his mouth as if to say something. Echo swipes a finger over his lips, where it catches slightly on the lower one, dragging it down just a little before letting it go.

“Come on, darling. We should go. It’s getting dark and I'd rather get back to The Resolute before the others get there. You know they won't let us go to bed in peace if we're not already there when they get back,” Echo said. "I really don't feel like getting dragged into their drunken shenanigans while sober."

Fives rolls his eyes playfully. “Oh yes.”

Echo stands, and Fives takes the hand he offers to pull him to his feet as well. They smile at one another before Echo turns away and starts to head down to the slope of the hill, but Fives feels the circular object in his pocket again and can’t wait.

Death doesn’t discriminate.

“Wait, Echo.” Fives quickly digs into his pocket, brings out his surprise, and then he stares at his hand. I can’t believe I am doing this. Echo turns around and cocks his head to the side playfully. “What is it, Fives?” Echo asks softly.

Fives slowly kneels down to one knee and Echo’s eyes widen. At first, he worries that something is wrong, that he's hurt, but then the fading sunlight glints off of something shiny, and Fives holds out his hand. Echo gasps.

The ring seems so small, to represent something so monumental, but it's a gorgeous color that reminds Fives’ of Echo’s golden eyes, and Fives can't contain his smile.

“Echo, I confessed my feelings to you a year ago. To me, it feels like ages, when you pulled me into your arms and told me you returned my feelings. After that, I didn’t want to lose what we have. It is special to me and we are soldiers. Anything could happen and I would rather not face the regret of not having asked you the most important question.” Fives’ ends it on a breathy chuckle.

Echo’s eyes sting.

“I want to spend every day knowing you wear a ring I gave to you; to symbolize our love for one another and our eternal bond.” Fives looks up at Echo’s face and takes in his facial expression and body language. Echo’s hand is curled against his chest, right over his heart.

So, Fives quickly says, “It’s okay if I am going too fast for you and you don’t want to do this now—I am totally fine with that. I just really wanted to do this now and—” Echo steps closer with a wet smile on his face and tears in his eyes.

“Fives, oh baby, yes. I accept.”

Fives blinks. “Uhhh, but I didn’t even…” Fives chuckles nervously.

Echo shakes his head fondly.

“You don’t have to. I was going to say yes anyway. Yes, Fives, I will marry you and forever be yours.” Echo laughs breathlessly as Fives shoots up to his feet and grabs his hands.

“Really?!”

“Yes!” Echo chuckles at the flush on Fives’ face.

“Oh force! Echo, you just made me the luckiest and happiest man alive! Force, thank you. Thank you.” Fives holds him close against his chest and cries softly. Echo trembles.

“Aww, why are you crying?” Echo giggles. Fives sniffs.

“Because I am so damn happy. Look at what you did to me.” Fives wipes his tears away and fails. Then he whispers, “I love you, cyar’ika.”

Echo taps their foreheads together. “And I love you, darling.” Fives flicks his eyes down to the ring and slips it onto Echo’s ring finger before he stares into Echo’s eyes again.

The emotional connection and spiritual ties between the two are so strong and well-built that they yank each other into another kiss. This time it’s fervent and deep. Fives wraps his arms around Echo’s waist and pulls him close. Echo tilts his head and brings his arms up to drape around Fives’ neck, and pulls him closer to deepen the kiss.

The golden ring sits nestled close against his skin, an object that intertwines their confessions, their experiences, every heated moment spent together, and all of that sits within this ring. It symbolizes their love.

In Fives’ opinion, it looks damn fine on Echo’s finger.

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angelwars11 · 4 years ago

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Title: Transparent, Translucent, and Opaque

Prompt: Opaque

Pairing: Waxer/Boil

Rating: G

Word count: 3k

“Heh heh. Hi daddy!!” She and hurries onto her feet, which causes her balance to become a bit unstable. “We are doing a science project!! Umm, papa, tell him! Tell him!” Waxer waves his hand over to the freshly carved wood table that Boil made for them a couple months ago. So beautiful still. Waxer thinks internally.

“Soooo~ As you can see here, we have a couple items. Today I wanted to teach our daughter the understanding of Opaque, translucence, and transparency!”

—

It’s a nice day on the farm to spend some quality family time together. With lessons that need to be taught and learned, new things to be discovered, and a little fun game of Scavenger hunt is at play. What will little Numa learn today?

This story was written for a challenge presented by @thatkanragirl which is for all Clonecest shippers, where we will write drabbles in July. I was given a different set of prompts and pairings to go with them! If you would like to read other contributors’ work then you can press the tag below #clonecest in July.

This is my first day’s contribution! (I am posting it on the second day because I didn’t get to edit it till this morning with the help of my amazing Beta-reader @blazesurrender, love yah!) So, get some popcorn, grab a seat, press ‘keep reading’, and enjoy some wholesome fluffiness!

P.S. you can press the tags ‘betawrites’ or ‘angelwrites’ at the bottom, and you can find my other prompts easily that way!!

Boil stares at the screen of his holo-pad, as he has been doing for the past several minutes. He just can’t figure out what to do next. He is, or was, trying to order family photos but ended up getting distracted by work and now he can’t seem to find his focus again. He sighs and leans back into his soft-cushioned chair. A gift from Waxer a year ago.

Wow, I can’t believe this chair is actually that old already. Crazy. And that means that little Numa is going to turn…..nine?! Wow, she’s getting so—

A loud metallic crash sounds from the kitchen. Boil jerks in startlement and shoots up in his seat.

“Waxer?!” He starts to run towards the kitchen where his husband is. Boil comes thundering around the corner, blaster in his hands, and stops in the doorway at the surprising sight before him. Waxer is eagle-spread across the tiled floor. Pots, pans, and dishes surround him; the pots still twirl round and round till they come teetering to a stop.

“Waxer?” Boil deadpans. Waxer blinks at him in shock.

“Woah! Boil? What’s the blaster for?” He sits up and points at the blaster that’s loosening in Boil’s two hands.

“Um, what do you think? I thought something was wrong!” Boil retorts.

Waxer stands up and makes his way over with a soft smile on his face as Boil continues, “I…I had to…to make sure you were okay. Am I not allowed to do that now?” Boil turns his head away in embarrassment and leans the blaster down on the floor against the spam on the pink door-frame.

“Babe, of course you can. I appreciate your concern over me but I just dropped the pots and pans silly.” Waxer giggles. Boil rolls his eyes. “Yeah, obviously, ” He gestures to the mess on the floor. “And what are you up to? Making dinner or something?”

Waxer pecks him on the cheek. “Actually, no.“

The brown cabinets start to shift. The doors open and Boil glares at it. Numa tumbles out and into the mess of silver pots and bronze pans. She smiles up at them and sneezes at the dust she brought out with her.

"Heh heh. Hi daddy!!” She squeals and hurries onto her feet, which causes her balance to become a bit unstable. “We are doing a science project!! Umm, papa, tell him! Tell him!"

Waxer waves his hand over to the freshly carved wood table that Boil made for them a couple months ago. So beautiful still. Waxer thinks internally. "Sooo~ As you can see here, we have a couple items. Today I wanted to teach our daughter the understanding of Opaque, translucence, and transparency!"

Boil hums. "Huh, I’m impressed. So explain to me what you guys are planning to do with all of these items.” He sits in one of the wooden booth seats.

“Okay! Numa, explain to daddy what our plan of ‘fun fun’ is,” Waxer rests his hands on his hips. Boil notices that they are twitching ever so slightly. Heh, he’s so excited about this, isn’t he? “So when we look around the house all the time we see items made of different materials. Umm, items that can be organized by the way they work with light.”

Waxer giggles oh so cutely. “Yep! So materials that allow almost all light to pass through are called,” He gives Numa a cheeky look. Finish that sentence for me.

“Transparent!!” She cheers.

Waxer smiles brightly “Yes!”

Boil chuckles. Numa is truly his daughter. They get along so well. Numa is practically Waxer’s partner-in-crime. Whenever Waxer is up to something, Numa is by his side every step of the way; and the noblest thing she’s done is when Waxer and her are caught, she blames everything on herself and makes sure her papa did not get in trouble.

Boil hates punishing Numa. He really does! Because she’s a good girl. Boil believes that he and Waxer are raiding her quite well, especially after she lost her father during the 2nd year of the war and Boil and Waxer stopped at nothing to find Numa; and when they did, it was a dream come true.

I remember she was so frail still. Barely any muscle on her body. Poor thing. Almost starved to death from another camp she was forced into. Separated from her father, like last time, but this time she was placed on a completely different planet on the other side of the galaxy. Good thing we found her in time or she wouldn’t be here right now.

“So, examples of transplant items are glass, water, and air. Those materials that allow some light to pass through them are called what Numa?” Again, Waxer looks straight at their daughter. Numa smirks slyly. “Trans…uhhh…trans-lunctent?"

Waxer blinks at her silently. Numa chuckles nervously and her lips bend inwards to look silly.

"Okay, close enough, ” Waxer waves dismissively. Boil grins at that. “But yeah. So that includes things like frosted glass and wax flimsi. And if any object does not allow any light to pass through it then it’s, ” — “Opaque!!!” Numa cheers. Boil blinks in confusion.

Waxer gawks and squinted at her. “Wait! Hold on hold on, so you remember THAT but not TRANSLUCENT?!” He raises his hands straight up into the air.

Numa laughs at her papa’s loud antics. “Yessss~"

"But that’s a new word?” Waxer scratches his head. “They all are, papa.” Numa reminds him. “Yes yes. Well, anyways. Most objects are opaque and include things made of wood, stone, and metal…Boil, what’s wrong?” Waxer finally notices his expression full of confusion.

“I’ve never heard of the word Opaque before is all."

Waxer screeches. "Oh force! I am surrounded by a pair of uncultured swine!!"

Numa and Boil both start to laugh. "Come on, babe. Keep going.” Boil tries to move this along a bit.

“Right, anyways,” Waxer starts to say but Numa interrupts him one again, waving her hands about, a giant grin spread from ear to ear.

“So first before we even sit down and actually do the science-y part of the objects, we have to look around the house for objects made out of wood (opaque), objects made out of clear glass (transparent), and frosted glass (translucent).”

Waxer placed a warm hand on her left shoulder. “In other words…” He smirks mischievously. Oh no. I know that look.

Numa climbs up Waxer’s body like the little athletic, bendy, flexible monkey she is, and sits on his right shoulder.

“SCAVENGER HUNT!!!” They both yell in unison. Like they planned this from the getgo. Boil sighs heavily. I should’ve seen this coming from a mile away. How did I miss this mischief? I should’ve smelled it on em. They reek of it!

Boil facepalms himself. His right-hand wipes down the front of his face and then he’s yanked out of the chair and a list is slapped onto his chest. “Huh?” He stares at it and hovers it in front of him.

“That’s your list! It’s blank, obviously, but you find things and put it under the category of transparent, trans-luctent, ” — “Translucent!!” Waxer screams from the living room. Numa rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out. “Whateverrrr~” She mumbles.

Boil raises his hand and pats her head right in between her teal-colored lekku. Bright pink eyes gleam up at him.

“And then Opaque, right?” Boil asks.

"Yep!“ She smiles.

Boil holds the piece of flimsi close to his side and starts to walk away. A lot of items are already on the table like wax flimsi, plastic wrap, Styrofoam plates, clear plastic lids, and colored plastic lids. That’s evidence enough of what Waxer was up to earlier in the kitchen, making all that racket. Kitchen items. So we have to do the hard work and find other things. Well, it wouldn’t be a scavenger hunt if we made it easy for ourselves.

"Well, let’s get to work!” Boil shouts to Numa and disappears down the hallway to the bedroom first.

…

It’s been about 15 minutes and so far every room checks out. Boil found a couple transparent things like water; which he poured into a cup for him to use as a holder, and the glass table in the living room between the sofa and the holo-vid screen. Translucent things are hard to find and it seems they may already have all of those.

But opaque items will be the easiest to find. It’s literally everything in their house! The furniture, Cardboard pieces, old books, etc. That’ll be easy peasy. No problem. Boil walks towards the closet and opens the door to see Waxer already inside of the small space. The light creeps across the carpeted floor till he snags at the heels of Waxer’s feet. He turns around and raises an eyebrow at his husband.

“Hey. Whatcha doing?” He smiles. Wagging his finger back and forth at Boil’s suspicious body language.

“Just looking at a handsome man before me who managed to snag my attention. Transfix me with his beauty.” Boil walks in a little further, his feet leave imprints in the soft padding of the carpet, and then he stands directly in front of Waxer’s face.

“You always seem to know how to make Numa happy. I appreciate it. Really. I am always so busy, trying to get used to the war being over and everything. It just…I still haven’t gotten there yet like you have. My husband, who is always able to acclimate to any situation or any change.” Boil smiles at him. Waxer makes an ‘awww’ sound.

“Darling, you are getting used to it. One day you’ll see that things are going to get much easier for you. And I hope it does. But don’t be fooled by my overly gleeful attitude. Heh. I am struggling a bit with settling in too.” Waxer admits. “I am not perfect. Nobody is.”

Boil nods. “Sure. Sure. But in my eyes, you’ll always be perfect to me,” His soft hand taps the side of Waxer’s warm skin, and Waxer leans into it. “Vor entye.” He thanks Boil.

“Gar’re olarom.” Boil boops his nose. Waxer giggles before he dives down to the floor and bounces back up with two leather-backed books each.

A red one, just for Boil. “Here you go.” Waxer hands it to him. And a Navy blue one for Waxer. “Now I think this Scavenger Hunt has gone on long enough. Let’s start this, in Numa’s words, 'science-y’ part finally."

Boil chuckles and leaves the closet with Waxer close behind.

…

"You guys take forever! What were you doing in there?” Numa quirks one eyebrow up and rests her hands on her slender hips. Waxer makes a 'tut-tut’ sound and tosses, underhand, the blue book to her. Numa catches it with good reflexes.

“Ah, books.” She smirks, disbelieving. “Okay, come on! I’ve been waiting for almost 4 minutes.”

They all settle down in the booth seats.

“Alright you two, here’s the deal. Use your lists and the flashlights, say what happens to the light and write a diagram of what you observe. Got it?” Waxer grabs his pencil and smiles excitedly.

“Got it, babe.” Boil smiles back lovingly. Waxer and he stare at each other for a couple seconds, reading each other, sending a clear message that their daughter wouldn’t understand until she’s older. But then—"I better not get any siblings from this.“ She whispers vehemently.

Waxer and Boil snort. "Psh! You wish! Now be quiet and blind these babies with the power of…” Waxer pauses, for effect, “Light.” He turns on the flashlight.

“Ewwww~ Stawwwppp~” Numa cringes and ignores her goofy papa. “I am ignoring you now. Ew."

"You know you love me, baby girl.” Waxer smiles so hard that his eyes become little squints and two lines. Boil shakes his head in good-hearted humor.

The three of them point their lights at different objects. For some items, the light just wouldn’t go through. Numa would shake her head every time that happens for her and she would write it down on the flimsi as opaque. Then on to the next item.

The weirdest thing happened. Boil ran through every item like it was a ball game. He did not take his time. And Waxer studied every item liked he just completely fixated by the details on each individual thing. Boil scoffs.

“Why are you doing all of that? We are just shining the light through them and taking notes, are we not?"

"Yes yes! But this kind of procedure takes precision. If done wrong, the whole experiment could go up in flames!” Waxer turns the block of wood in his hands constantly.

Boil lets out a hoot! “Ha! Yeahh, the way you are staring so intensely at it, it might as well go up in flames."

Waxer glares at him. "Not funny!”

Numa’s eyes widen in wonder. They glow impossibly brighter at the new discovery and understanding of it all. She has three items lined up. One is transparent, the second is translucent, and the third is opaque. She is pointing the light’s warm ray at each item to make sense of it!

“Wowww. I get it, papa!! Why didn’t I see it before?” She turns to smiles.

“Because darling, you are just learning this now! Kids get to learn about this stuff and remember around the age of nine, so you are right on time.” Waxer looks so proud. Pride and happiness swim in his golden orbs. Boil stares, subtly, at the glow it reflects in them.

“Thanks, papa. I loved this! I learned so much!” She gets up from her chair, runs around, and squeezes Waxer in a big tight hug. Waxer feels so loved right now. “You’re welcome, baby girl.” He breaths into her shoulder and closes his honeydew eyes for two seconds before gazing over at Boil.

They share a smile with one another.

“Now I think it’s time to put all this stuff away, review, pop quiz, ” — “Awwww.” Numa let’s go of him and stomps away. “Ah! Don’t 'awww’ me! You knew this was coming!” Waxer jabs his index finger at her.

Boil snickers. “Yeah, you had to have known that was coming. Right?”

"Psh. No.” Numa scoffs.

“Then you suck.” Boil wiggles his eyebrows. Waxer cracks up laughing up a storm. He slaps his own thigh in amusement.

“Uhhh, dad! Seriously!” Numa piles all the stuff she gathered and walks away.

Waxer and Boil both chuckle and gather their things as well.

…

“Alright! First things first, what did you both learn?” Waxer crosses his arms over his chest teasingly when Boil stammers. “E-Excuse me, what?"

"I didn’t stutter babe. What did you both learn?” Waxer repeats himself.

Numa snickers at Boil and places her two index fingers in both of her ears and turns them this way and that while sticking her tongue out.

“Well, I learned that opaque means anything that can’t be seen through.” Boil twists his head around and grins with all teeth at their daughter.

“Take that, ad'ika."

Numa waves at him dismissively.

"Well, I learned something valuable today! Something that I think will make papa veryyy happy.” Numa teeters and tots back and forth on her heels. Her arms are behind her back.

“And what’s that Numa?” Waxer questions.

“Those items are made of different materials and every material reacts differently to light. Transparent objects allow most of all light to pass through them. Trans-lucent objects allow some light to pass through them. And opaque, like dad said, are objects that do not let light pass them at all!” Numa is on point.

She’s a quick learner. She learns better when she does things a bit more hands-on. Just like Waxer. Boil inhales and exhales. He stares at Waxer and his spitting image.

Waxer snaps his fingers and winks at her. “Spot on Numa!” He hugs her. “I am proud of you."

"Thanks, Papa, ” She hugs him back. On cue, their Tooka cat, Melon, decides to poke its orange and white head around the corner to say hello. “Meow.” The three of them turn their heads and smile happily.

“Hello, Melon!” Numa waves.

“Should we go watch a movie? I can make dinner and then we can eat it on the sofa. Who’s down?” Waxer asks.

Numa stomps one foot into the floor, yanks her right arm down, elbow pointing towards the floor, and then shoots it back up, pointing. “Yeahhhh!”

Boil forms a peace sign with his two hands.

“You two are goofy! Come on, go ahead, and get showered and dressed while I make something simple; soup. Then we’ll find a holo-vid to watch!"

Numa squeals and runs away. Teal lekku waving in the wind behind her. Boil runs after her. "Race you to the couch Numa!” He shouts. But before he left completely, he leans over and presses a wet kiss onto Waxer’s cheek before disappearing around the bend.

Waxer smiles to himself, a light blush appears in the bridge of his nose.

…

“Alright, you guys! Here’s the soup!” Waxer saunters back into the homey living room where the holo-vid is already set up with a nice movie Numa fell in love with a year ago. “Oooh! This one again! I love this one.” Waxer hands the small scarlet red bowl. Nice and ceramic.

“Yep! Ooh, this looks delicious!” Numa sticks the wooden spoon into the red chili soup and starts to savor the spicy taste. Boil and Waxer curl up beside one another.

Next to Numa is her purple Tooka doll. Dirty from all the many years left on it. Her beautiful rosé colored eyes stare in wonder and excitement, the light blue reflects in them. Boil watches in awe.

“We did so well with her so far haven’t we? After the war, it’s been so hard for all three of us; I am just surprised that it’s just…look at how she turned up."

Waxer smiled at him. "Yeah. She’s special alright. Our ad'ika. It’s crazy how fast she’s growing. It feels like only a month ago we found her again after the war ended."

Distracted by the holo-film, Numa doesn’t notice her dads’ talking to one another softly and out of earshot.

Boil leans against his strong shoulder. "And it’s only because I have my cyare here with me.” Boil glanced up at him. Waxer looked back. “Mm. Yes, you do. And I have you, cyar'ika.” They stare into each other’s twin golden eyes before they kiss one another on the lips. Soft. Affectionate and sweet.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” Boil whispers against his lips. Waxer’s eyes flick from left to right, searching his, reading him. “Bal Ni gar.” Waxer returns the endearing vow of love and then they lean their heads against one another once again.

Sounds of speeders echo from the holo-film. All staticky and in the foreground. Waxer chuckles and closes his eyes for a moment.

“We should adopt another kid though,” Boil suggests. He closes his eyes as well.

More silence.

After a long pause, Waxer blinks, “What did you just say?"

62 notes · View notes

angelwars11 · 4 years ago

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Title: What would you do if you had more time?

Prompt: Clock

Pairing: Codex

Rating: T

Word count: 6k

‘Time. What is time? Time is an ugly storm in which we are all lost. Time is when your children grow from young to old. When a seed grows into a tree. When things change from new to unusable. When people marry and divorce. When birth becomes death. When seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years go by without stopping. You can’t stop time. It’s simply impossible.’

—

‘Time is running out for all of us. But if you give a little nudge, a little push against the clock’s hands; then maybe, just maybe, you possess enough strength and determination to push time back.’ -By Me (Beta/Angel)

This is day 4 of the ClonecestInJuly challenge! I finished this prompt a week ago and the editing was finished last night, the beta reading was finalized today. Now this one is very angsty, sad, and is also said to be a tear-jerker, and I quote, “Oh thank god, that got me all teary-eyed.” by my marvelous beta reader @gimmeclones. It’s also edited by my fabulous revisor, @blazesurrender! Thank you darlings!! P.S. the flower’s symbolism in this story is Hope.

Who’s ready to cry and hug a pillow close to their chest? Who’s ready to want to hug the characters really hard? If you are ready, please, press the ‘keep reading’ link. Enjoy!!

*Warning: Pretty angsty! If you aren’t into angst, then please don’t read! Also, you will cry so grab a tissue box.

Time. What is time? Time is an ugly storm in which we are all lost. Time is when your children grow from young to old. When a seed grows into a tree. When things change from new to unusable. When people marry and divorce. When birth becomes death. When seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years go by without stopping. You can’t stop time. It’s simply impossible.

Some people waste their time away by doing unremarkable or unimportant things that won’t help them in the long run. Then, once they even waste it away, they can’t do anything about it.

The elderly, who’ve lived their lives to the very end, will tell you one thing:

“Time is valuable, and when it is gone, it’s gone. Time is wealth, and unlike credits, when it is gone, you cannot replace it.”

You may think that time is invisible to the naked eye, but no, it’s not. Actually, you can see it right there in front of you above every person’s head like a marker. Marking. Or target them for an inevitable change.

Death.

Numbers, colored in neon glowing colors would float above your head since the time you were born; and they only change from green to red when you are approaching your end. Everyone has this. Not one person has never been born without it. An ugly and scarily real reminder of what is to come if you are not careful.

The scary thing about it is that you can stop what’s coming. Only fate has your life in its hands. Would you trust in fate? It could change directions if you chose a different path. Could that path lead you right to your death? Could your decision be right—or very wrong and lead you to your undoing?

Rex has never known what to do about fate because he can’t do anything about it; not that he knows of. These glow green numbers have floated above his head for as long as he could remember. He couldn’t touch these numbers. His hands went right through them.

The green would pixelate and float away. Then they’ll come back at some point. You touching your own numbers wouldn’t affect your time or you, it just makes the numbers dissolve and at some point it’ll bounce back.

Rex’s numbers say exactly: 60:12:20:18

He has exactly 60 years, 12 months, 20 minutes, and 18 seconds until he dies. Rex is unbelievably surprised by this amount of years he has. First of all, all clones barely have time on their hands; or more like on their heads. Seriously! Some clones have mere minutes or hours until they die and it’s really unnerving to know that you are about to die on your next mission someplace and you don’t even know HOW you’ll die.

Rex stares at the numbers over his head for a long time. They continue to count down every second. He shakes his head and sighs. What can I do about it? Fate is unclear sometimes. At one point, Rex’s number specifically said 01:36:18:01 till he died, and that was before the battle of Geonosis—the first battle of the Clone Wars when clone troopers were introduced. Rex actually believed he was going to die that day, but something changed it; somehow he changed it.

A plasma grenade landed in the sand in front of him and his numbers stuttered. He remembers this so vividly. Then Rex ran in the opposite direction and the blast sent him flying forward. He woke up dazed, confused, and dizzy most of all. Rex forced himself to stand and continue fighting but he didn’t realize his number got knocked all the way back to 02:03:60:59.

Two years! Rex thought about it. What if we can change our path and divert to another path away from death itself? He dismissed these crazy thoughts and called them childish or far-fetched fantasies that simply couldn’t come true. That all changed once Rex was sent to Teth and his numbers dropped; they were falling—and falling fast.

Ventress took hold of him, attempting to use the force to make him comm his General, but Rex fought her control long enough to say his General’s first name, Anakin, and that alone improved his numbers. Ventress left him against the wall. His numbers rose to 03:08:60:59.

At the time, Rex had no idea how he got his time all the way up to 50 years! But he did somehow after spending many long days and hourless nights thinking, and he finally perceived the truth. I can change the pathway fate has carved for me.

He should be happy that his life ended up that long, as a result of his quick-thinking, but it also makes Rex feel sad every time he looks upon a vod’s numbers and it’s spiraling down to zero. Rex wants to hide away his numbers sometimes, he can’t though.

Oh well. Rex sighs internally and leaves the ‘fresher.

Rex is getting ready for a big mission to follow a signal being transmitted to a Separatist Cyber Center on the planet’s surface. Hours ago, Rex and Commander Cody came forward to Jedi Generals Made Windy and Anakin Skywalker with their theory that the Separatists had somehow managed to figure out Rex’s strategic “playbook”, and Cody had proposed taking a team behind enemy lines to investigate.

Rex finishes getting ready in the ‘fresher and exits. He walks over to the nearest bunk and sits down on it. A soft glowing light, warm and orange shines onto his face.

He smiles to himself.

On his holo-pad, he stares at a picture of him, Cody, Fives, and Echo. They all looked so… happy. Which should be kind of unusual during a war. Rex enjoyed his time with all three of them. Echo was taken away from them, a couple weeks after the picture was taken, during the Citadel Mission on Lola Sayu. Fives had never been the same since. Now, they are both gone. Rex doesn’t like to think about what happened to Fives. His hand grips tighter onto the edge of the screen.

Rex believes that Echo is alive and he’s the reason why their algorithm keeps getting recognized and used against them. The swish of the doors opening turned Rex away from his holo-pad and towards his riduur. Cody. Rex smiles at him.

Nobody is around. I could just-

“Kot’ika, hey.” Rex let’s the nickname slip from his lips. Cody’s eyes soften from their natural hardened look. He always looks that way with everyone, especially when in serious situations.

“Rex. You wanted to talk.” Cody barely lets a flicker of a smile show on his face. Rex knows he’s just trying to be the big bad Commander and barely show any emotion. He only ever shows true emotion, or loving emotion, when they are in the bedroom.

“Yes,” Rex confirms, “I did.”

The two of them talk about how Echo could be the potential reason for the Separatists constant victories. Rex deduces Echo is the only possible weak point for how the Separatists could have gotten the algorithm since his body has never been recovered. It is a bit of a far stretch though. It leaves Cody feeling skeptical of the theory after Rex tells him his idea.

“I hope you’re right. But the fact is, Echo’s fingerprints are all over the Separatist’s strategies.” Rex looks at Cody. The other’s scratched up helmet sits nestled against his left hip.

“Rex. You have to admit what you’re saying is a long shot at best, and most likely, misplaced hope.” Cody calmly watches him. Rex turns his gaze to the floor, sad and frazzled. He’s not so sure he can make up his mind about whether he wants to believe Cody’s instincts, or his own.

Cody raises his hand slowly in front of Rex’s face to call back his attention. Rex stares at him again.

Concern flickers in Cody’s eyes, “I need you to be focused on this.“

Rex shifts his gaze a bit. "I-I know, I know.” Golden eyes flick up to meet Cody’s hazel once more. “Don’t worry."

Cody offers another smile, gentle and sweet. That’s when Rex’s eyes widen just a fraction. He stopped looking at other’s numbers above their heads because the 8 digits ceased to interest him; they only made him more sad and worried and so many other things. He just so happened to look up and notices Cody’s numbers are lowering a bit quicker than normal.

Cody turns to walk away from the bunk and Rex squints at the mocking numbers.

Holy kriff. Why didn’t I notice till now?

"Wait, Cody.” Rex jumps to stand up and runs over to Cody; who turns around to face him again. Some confusion showed in his eyes.

“Yes?” Cody shifts his weight to his right hip.

Rex stares at the numbers in horror. “I…your numbers. They're…” Rex gestures to the numbers above Cody’s soft hair, longer than the normal hair length, and makes an aborted step closer. Cody tips his head back. Too bad an individual can’t see their own numbers unless they look in a mirror. Even then, they are still reversed when presented to the looking glass. The numbers just bend back with you if you look up. Cody seems to remember because he looks at Rex again.

“What’s wrong with them?” Cody eyes him with concern. Rex steps closer and closer till Cody can almost feel his breath on his face. Rex trembles slightly.

“They…they are dropping Cody. Fast.” Rex fights the urge to panic, to say something, to cry or anything, just-Stars! Make them stop moving!

Cody restrains his own panic, but for Rex; because Rex looks like he’s going to cry in any minute. Cody grabs his hands and rubs his knuckles. Just the way he likes it; to calm down some.

“Hey, cyare, look at me.” Cody’s voice is as soft as a young Tooka’s fur. Undisturbed. Fluffy. It could almost wrap it’s warmth around Rex’s body and squeeze him. Rex glances at his face and then back up at the flickering numbers.

“Rex. Please, don’t look at the numbers. Look at me and only me. Don’t look at them.” Cody brushes his chin up with his finger. Rex reacts to it and leans against his body.

“I don't… please don’t go. Your numbers are getting faster. They skipped down five years, Cody. It’s not even years! It's—oh stars.” Rex grits his teeth in horror. Cody quickly shushes him. He doesn’t want anyone to hear them. Rex submits to his hold.

That’s another scary thing, the numbers do not make a sound. It’s like a ghost in the wind.

“Cyare, you know that fate changes whenever you do something. Whatever path you take can change the whole directory, and that just happens to the best of us—"

Rex growls and leans away.

"But not you! I don’t give a shit what fate wants or needs. It won’t take you away from me. I ca-” Cody tightens his hold on Rex’s wrist. That shuts him up. Cody didn’t mean to, but Rex knows that he can’t get attached to him like that; especially when it came to their numbers.

“You will. We are soldiers, Rex. We fight in a war and someday we may not make it back home, to our loved ones. You’ll have to accept that fact when fate decides it’s my time-”

Rex shakes his head. “You don’t have to go. You can stay here; we can make up an excuse why you shouldn’t or can’t go.” Rex smiles. Hope and sorrow shimmer like unhappy, broken up waves in a pond.

Cody let’s go of Rex’s wrist, wraps his arms around his waist, and brings him closer to his chest. A hug. Rex’s breaths become slower and calm.

“You know I can’t do that. But I will remain by your side till the very end, and if fate wants me today; and of course I hope it doesn’t, then it will take me and I get to march with our aliit.” Cody tucks his chin on top of Rex’s short, oh so soft, wheat blond curls.

Rex fights against the burn behind his eyes. Don’t show emotions. Y-You ca-c-can’t. He became so sensitive after Umbara. Rex lost many brothers during that campaign, even the 212th lost many as well. Cody lost Waxer that day.

“If I die, I’ll always be here with you, my love. Never forget that.” Cody whispers. His warm breath tickles his scalp. It sent shivers ramping down his neck, to his broad and wide shoulders, to his toned abdomen and all the way down to his feet. Rex’s arms snake their way around his cyare’s waist to return the hug.

He hates to agree to disagree but it must be done to ease Cody’s concerns and cleanly wipe them off the slate.

Rex nods.

“Okay, okay,” Rex whispers. “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum."

Cody smiles. He pecks a quick kiss on Rex’s forehead and returns his resting place on his head. "Bal Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum."

—

Rex stands beside Cody. They rock back and forth with the movement of the LAAT shuttle. Something that every trooper has learned throughout the war; go with the flow or the movement of the shuttle. Don’t fight against it or you’ll fall over. The red lights enveloped the entire midsection of the ship in an evil glow. It put Rex on edge because he knows that Cody’s time is ticking down to 0 sooner than he liked.

Why did we let him go on the mission if he’s about to die or get hurt? Succumb to injuries that may kill him. Well, they are clone troopers. They can’t not go on missions just because their time is ticking down. They have to go!

Cody glances down at Rex’s hand while everyone else is looking in the other direction, and his knuckles graze Rex’s. Two fingers wrap themselves around his own fingers. Rex looks up at Cody. Then the Captain slowly flicks his eyes up to stare scrutinizingly at the glowing numbers. They are slowly turning red.

"Cody, ” Rex whispers. Cody rubs his thumb over his knuckles.

“It’s okay, Rex. Everything is fine.” Cody reassures him with a small smile and kind eyes. Nothing is fine though. Cody is going to die in 43 minutes because of something that Rex doesn’t know, not yet anyways. Rex wants so badly to do more than curl his own fingers around Cody’s. He wants to hug him. Kiss him. Be close to him.

“I gotta go up to the front and brief everyone on what we need to do. I’ll be back okay.” Cody let’s go of his fingers and holds his eye contact with Rex before he walks over to the front of the mid-section.

00:43:57

Cody won’t be back. Something is going to happen to this shuttle, I just know it.

Cody is getting closer and closer to death. Rex’s heart throbs at the terrible knowledge. Why does no one else care that Cody’s time is almost up? Why?! Maybe because they have another issue that’s more important than a clone Commander’s imminent death.

“Alright, listen up.” Cody whips out a mini holo-projector that shows a staticky picture of a satellite dish. “Here’s the mission. Our target is the Cyber Center. It’s the "brains” of the entire Separatist campaign here on Anaxes.“ Cody seems so confident even though time is ticking. Ticking and ticking. And it won’t stop until it has Cody in it’s sharp clutches.

Wrecker steps forth. "I could demolish that with one hand!” He says energetically while raising his left fist. “Yeah!” Wrecker nods.

Cody just looks at him. “This isn’t a demo job, Wrecker.” Then Cody glances at everyone else on the shuttle. “It’s strictly a retrieval operation.” The holo-projection flickers off. The low blue of its natural light dissipates: and the evil red of the room returns.

The shuttle tips to its right as it enters a canyon-like terrain. Rex nervously shifts as he stares at Cody’s numbers again. Even Hunter glances up at them in surprise. Seems like he just noticed. Rex thinks. The loud sound of explosions rock the ship from side to side. Everyone rocks with the movement.

We are under attack!

Everyone looks up at the ceiling. They can all hear it outside. Cannon fire, most definitely. The ship groans as it rises into the sky in an attempt to escape being shot down. A black DSD1 dwarf spider droid gets a lucky shot. The red plasma bolt rams into the metal with a screeching hiss. Amber’s fly off the side of the ship that had been hit; and the shuttle takes a dive back towards the ground.

“We’re going down!” Wrecker shouts the obvious and starts to laugh like a maniac.

The shuttle takes a dangerous dive straight into the side of the cliffs and then continues to shred across it, bringing rocks and rubble down with it. Then the shuttle tips onto its back and left side. It crashes into the ground loudly. Blue and violet crystals, that are stuck into the ground, are brought up by the massive hull.

All of the troopers stumble out of the shuttle coughing and groaning to themselves in pain. Rex hop’s off the side and immediately starts to look for Cody. He didn’t get out. Rex comes to realize in well-concealed horror.

Where is he?!

“We always get shot down when we travel with regs.” Wrecker pouts.

Kix remains on the ship and is peering down into the smoke enveloped shuttle. He calls, “Cody!” Cody doesn’t answer. So Kix turns his head to look at everyone else. “Help!”

A flare of dread rolls through Rex like an angry wave. He turns around, ready to do anything to save his cyare and get him out of there. Haar'chak! His time! He doesn’t have time!

Kix looks back in quickly. His brows furrow. “He’s trapped. We have to do something."

Rex rasps out, "I’ll get him.” and begins to jog over. Hunter rushes to stand in between Rex and his cyare—get your hands off of me!

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.“ Hunter stops him with two gauntleted hands pressed against his chest plate and right pauldron. Rex glares at him for one second and then tries to get a glance over his shoulder.

Hunter can see his concern and desperation fluttering around in his eyes. He can tell why he wants to so badly save Cody.

He reassures him, "Easy Captain.” Captain Rex looks at him like he’s crazy. What do you mean 'easy Captain’?! Move! Rex’s eyes glow a bit when the sun’s rays hit them just right. Hunter peeks around Rex’s right shoulder.

“Wrecker,” Hunter acknowledges the bigger trooper, before ordering, “get him out.“ Hunter pushes Rex back and away far away from the ship, gently; just so then he wouldn’t anger him. Rex wouldn’t get unnecessarily upset. Hunter is just doing his job as a Commander of his own squad and is trying to keep him calm.

Wrecker cracks his knuckles. He pulls his left arm up to pump himself up with adrenaline. He’ll need it to get Cody out of there.

"Get back!” Wrecker grunts.

Everyone moves away to watch whatever he’s about to do to save the Commander stuck inside. Rex’s right foot nervously taps against the ground.

“This is ridiculous!” Kix looks at Rex. “He’s gonna need help to get Cody out of there.”

Rex glances from Kix, to the ground, and then back up to the flaming shuttle.

Crosshair chuckles. “He’s gonna get the gunship out of there. Not Cody.” His tone is smug and cocky. Arms crossed over his chest plate like he’s all talk. Rex pushes his boiling anger back down.

Wrecker places his hands on the heated metal. His left hand on the side and his right on the bottom. The sizzling of fire pops near him. Wrecker grunts powerfully. He lifts the shuttle up and up. Then Wrecker jerks his body down to rest both of his hands on the bottom of the shuttle. And his legs move to a crouched position, right leg bent down low and the foot is pressed into the ground, while the left leg is bent back behind him; they have also spread apart a little bit to support the weight.

Wrecker heaves one last time before he pushes up with all his might. Knocking the ship right back up to sit like it’s supposed to; bottom part facing down against the ground, top up towards the sky. Parts of metal fall off and slam into the ground around Wrecker.

He smiles under his cool helmet.

The ship then tips onto the other side. The deafening and horrid sounds of metal, screeching against each other like chalk on a chalkboard, drag along with a groan. The body of the pilot limply sits in the cockpit. Dead. Wrecker instantly grabs a hold of the injured 212th Commander in yellow and heaves him up, like a rag doll, onto his shoulders in a fireman hold.

The buff trooper turns around and makes his way back towards the awaiting group. The aura around the group suffocates them in anxiety; more so for the regs.

Cody’s legs swing from side to side, like he’s already dead.

Wrecker tips his chin up. “Boom."

And on cue, as if he did this a million times before, the shuttle blows up. It becomes a fiery storm of red, orange, and yellow fire. The smoke billows up it no the sky.

Rex and Kix both squint against the heat and raging colors. It may look pretty, but it can still kill. Kix’s mouth opens in a gap and he runs over to meet Wrecker. His field medic instincts are kicking in in an instant.

Rex grits his teeth and runs over as well, his kama swings around his hips multiple times. Wrecker starts to slowly lower him onto the ground; which draws out a pained reaction from Cody. Rex’s eyes widen at the death time flickering above his head.

00:00:37:47

Kix takes out a scanner, the laser hums as it’s dragged along over Cody’s chest because a big metal pole laid across his back inside the ship when he was stuck. Cody’s skin crinkles up under his eyes as his face scrunches up in agony.

Cody groans again.

"He has internal damage.” Kix says grimly. Kix glances at all of them. “I can cut the pain. But he needs help fast.” He takes off his med-pack and starts to dig through it for supplies.

Rex stares at the numbers with sad eyes. Cody gazes up at him longly. Rex notices his cyare’s looking at him, so he kneels down to get a bit closer.

“It’s okay, Cody. Kix will fix you up.” Rex reassures him with a small smile. Cody grimaces when a wave of pain rapidly washes over him.

“I-It hur-hurts.” Cody closes his eyes.

Rex bites the inside of his cheek. If Cody is admitting that it hurts; then it must hurt bad.

“I know. But it’ll be okay. Just stay with me.” Rex’s fingers inch towards his hand. Force, I want to comfort him so bad. But everyone is around. All I can do is say something for now. “I am here, Cody."

Cody flinches away from Kix when he plunges pain killers into the side of his neck. Cody gasps and tries to get away.

"No no. It’s okay. It’s just a syringe.” Rex smiles. Hoping to calm Cody down.

Kix pushes it in; not even waiting for Cody to listen to Rex. The slender metal slides into sensitive skin and that’s enough to make Cody halt in his desperate attempt to escape more pain.

“There you go.” Kix comforts him. He may be firm, but he still cares about his patients. “We need to get him somewhere safe so then a drop ship can come pick him and I up. I’ll go with him back to the base.” Kix volunteers.

While he is, Cody is slowly falling asleep.

Rex nods. “Okay.”

—

The sky is a beautiful glowing blue. An ominous aurora, a glistening light show of ivy green and with a fair amount of yellow, swirled in the sky above a campsite down below in the thick wooded forest. The warm glow of a fire pit hummed lively through the treetops.

Jesse and Kix sit in front of a fire pit. They lean against one another. Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair stand near the fire pit and Hunter is a little ways away; crouched in the dirt. Hunter touches the dirt and closes his eyes. Near the front of the camp and further away from the campfire sits Cody and Rex.

Cody curls forward and groans in agony. His chest burns terribly. Rex let’s his hand graze the inside of his thigh plate and comforts him the best he can.

“It’s okay, Cody.” Rex whispered under his breath. Cody whines. He tries to push Rex’s hand away but he wouldn’t let go of him for his sake.

“No no. Cod'ika, listen to me. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” Rex reassures him. Or more like he’s trying to reassure himself that everything will be fine but it isn’t! Cody’s time is standing at a standstill of 00:16:34.

“Rex….R-Rex. It hurts so bad.” Cody moaned.

Rex coos at him. “I know, Cod'ika. I know. Just breathe for me."

Cody’s fingers grip the hard plastoid armor around his abdomen and try to yank it off, but he couldn’t. Rex watches him. The numbers flicker again. 00:14:23.

Haar'chak.

"R-Rex, forceee~ It burns.” Cody places his head against Rex’s chest plate and grits his teeth.

Rex looks over his left shoulder. “Kix! Cody, he's—"

The medic rushes over, excusing himself from his conversation with Jesse and the others. Jesse stands yo in concern but Kix tells him to sit back down, he’ll worry about it.

"Okay, Commander. It’s alright. Shit.” Kix stares at the scarlet red above Cody’s head. “Haar'chak.” Kix looks down at his hands and turns his sad gaze to his Captain.

“Rex, I am sorry but we can’t do anything else until the shuttle comes.” Kix sits back.

“But he’s dying Kix! There has to be something you can do!” Rex grips Cody’s trembling hand between his two palms. Cody moans a little louder when his head starts to swim. Rex leans his head against his chestplate.

“I’ve got you. Just lean against me and you’ll be okay.” Rex wraps his arms around him and glances up at the numbers. 13 minutes.

Cody knows his time is almost up. He can feel it in his muscles; how they sag and become heavy like clay and rocks. His eyes couldn’t stay open for long. He feels so tired. Rex stares at the medic sitting beside Cody.

“Can you give us a moment alone?” Rex requested.

Kix smiles sympathetically. “Of course.” Kix walks back over to the warm campfire.

“My love. I am sorry.” Cody apologizes once Kix is gone. “There was no avoiding this. I am so so sorry.”

Hot tears prick Rex’s eyes. He whispers, “It’s okay, Cod'ika. It’s my fault. I should’ve been more persistent with convincing you to stay at the base.” Tears drift down Rex’s face. Cody reaches him up to wipe them away. Rex smiles wetly and presses his forehead against Cody’s and sniffles.

“I love you Kote,” Rex utters the endearment that makes him all the more sad. “I love you so kriffing much,” Rex whispers. A soft sob escapes his lips. Cody closes his eyes and grunts in pain. It’s like the pressure in his stomach is releasing but in the most uncomfortable way possible.

“I love you too.” Cody sighs. His time ticks closer and closer to his inevitable death. Rex holds onto his lover and rocks him back and forth, while he whispers sweet nothings against his cold and clammy skin.

Rex bites his lower lip.

“I wish there was a way to save you. I wish that I could save you. Stars, please help me. Help him. Please give him more time.” Rex murmurs and prays. Cody listens to his breathy pleads over and over; the world is enveloped in a period of silence that is only broken by Rex’s prayers.

“Let me save him. Please, let me save him.” Rex continues the desperate mantra like a broken record.

“Give him more time.”

Cody’s breaths start to slow down with their deathly crawl. His chest burns for more oxygen. Please, more! He whines in pain. Cody claws at Rex’s arm as he is desperate for comfort.

“Give him more time. Give him more time.” Rex repeats.

Cody gasps softly when an odd wave of warmth extinguishes the cold from his skin and body. His eyes fly open. Kix and the others are watching the loving and sad interaction unfold. Kix’s eyes widen when Cody’s numbers flicker closer to three minutes—and they stop. Everyone takes a bated breath and sits in waiting.

Rex says again, “Give him more time. Give him more time. Let me give him more time.”

Cody slowly turns his head to gaze onto Rex’s scrunched up face. Rex’s eyes are closed and his lips move at lighting speed. Cody groans from a deathly cold sensation that suddenly turns really warm and filled with life. Rex’s numbers start to flicker themselves and they—they start to lower from sixty years and go down.

Everyone around them moves towards them in shock. Rex refuses to let go of Cody’s hands. He keeps his own around them until he feels the warmth return to them. Rex blinks in confusion and gazes up at Cody’s numbers.

He gasps.

I-I…I can’t b-believe it. His numbers—

Cody’s eyes widen in horror at Rex’s numbers.

His numbers!

Cody finally feels his strength return, it’s a rush of adrenaline that he uses to reach up and touch the side of Rex’s face. He studies his eyes. Golden and normal; nothing’s wrong with them! Cody stares at his numbers again.

Rex’s numbers stop moving. Cody gapes. Fifty years?! He lost a whole ten years!

“Rex?? I-I…what did you do?” Cody frowns in worry. Rex shushes him.

“I did what I had to so then you could live."

Wrecker screams, "What?! How is that possible? Nobody told me you could do this!!"

Crosshair rolls his eyes. "Nobody knew this Wrecker. This is… Strange. Weird. Are only Regs above to do this?” Crosshair turns to look at the medic questioningly.

Kix shrugs. “N-No. No. I am very sure no one has ever known to do this before. This is a new discovery and development.” Kix kneels down beside Cody’s body again and checks all of his vitals quickly just to double check. Cody couldn’t tear his eyes away from Rex’s numbers.

The corner of Rex’s lip quirks up in amusement. “Cod'ika, look at me. Don’t look at the numbers. They’ve stopped moving; haven’t they?"

Cody glares at him. "You di'kut! You threw your years away to–to— "

"To give you extra years. Commander…you just gained 10 years!” Kix interrupts. “How is that—"

”-Possible?” Hunter finishes for him.

Rex shrugs. “I just kept thinking about wanting to give him more time, and I did."

Cody’s eyes tear up. "Force, you didn’t have to…you didn’t have to do that for me, Rex! You do know that right?”

Rex shakes his head. His eyes light up.

“Cody, I don’t think you understand. I did it because I…” Should I mention our relationship in front of the others?

Cody stares at Rex, waiting for him to finish.

Heh. Screw it! “I care about you a lot. I love you and you know that."

The Bad Batchers smile softly, except for Crosshair, he barely smiles for any reason. Kix and Jesse both gaze at one another. Cody’s breath trembles.

"R-Rex. Force, thank you. Cyare, I love you too.” Cody presses his face into his chest plate. Kix smiles at them.

“Well, his vitals are a lot better, sir. But I think that he should still go back to the base and rest. I don’t want him getting hurt again on this mission and the next time you aren’t able to save him. Okay?” Kix stares them both down firmly. Commander Cody knows not to test Kix’s patience.

“Yessir.” Cody smirks. Kix nods at them and gets up. Then the medic shoos everyone away from the pair so they can have a moment to themselves.

Cody and Rex look at each other before they laugh quietly. Rex’s hand shifts from his bicep to his side. It is there to support him.

“Rest cyare. The shuttle will be here soon and you’ll be back at the base in no time.” Rex offers a small, yet loving smile. Cody leans back against the tree.

“Good. “

The aura around them becomes less tense and more silent. Cody and Rex are thinking about everything that just happened. It happened so fast that Rex wasn’t able to comprehend what happened.

I sacrificed 10 years of my life, and I don’t exactly know how I did it. But one things for sure—

Rex hugs Cody.

“You are reckless sometimes, Rex’ika. You may not have known that would happen; but it did. What if you gave your entire life away for me? And if it’s possible for you to lend over 10 years then I am positively sure you can give away your whole life to me,“ Cody murmurs.

His cyare smiles, unashamed and completely gentle. "I would do anything for you, Cody. You know that.”

“That’s what I am worried about most times too. I am worried you’ll do something that will put your own life on the line for me or someone else you care about. I rather you live than me, I am being honest.” Cody can already feel the heaviness on his eyelids. Sleep is a beautiful thing when it takes you under; away from the pain and suffering.

“I know. But I don’t regret it. Saving you is the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me.” Rex gazes over at the others around the fire pit.

"I have to go now, Cody.“

"Okay. Stay safe, for me.” Cody curls one pinky around Rex’s Index finger. Rex grips his pinky tightly before letting go.

“Of course, Kot'ika."

Rex’s finger slips away from Cody’s grasp. He walks towards the fire pit in front of Cody and begins to talk about what they need to do next. In the soft, moist soil, a couple meters away next to the tree; a small shrub-like Hawthorn flower peeks, shyly, from the ground. With a thorny, shiny, thick stem and five white petals with anthers in the middle of the flower that are pink or red.

Its petals open up slowly, like a venus fly trap, and shine brightly in the dark of night.

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angelwars11 · 4 years ago

Photo

Title: Remembrance

Prompt: Vespers

Pairing: Jesse/Kix

Rating: G

Word Count: 2k

‘During battle, his senses become hyper-aware and then so numb afterwards that he can barely even feel the blood on his fingertips. It paints his hands in scarlet that once was inside of his vode’s bodies, flowing freely and keeping them alive. Kix hates that part—when he’ll exit a tent and stare down at his hands, and finally address it.The sensation of silent distaste surrounds him in white and black ghostly shadows of what once was.’

—

‘To no man or being will I cause or permit harm to befall, nor will I refuse aid to any who seek it. These obligations I willingly and freely take upon myself in tradition of those that have come before me. These are things we do so that other may live.’ -The Medic’s creed.

This is day 2 of the ClonecestInJuly challenge! I finally finished this story, oh my lord; it took forever!! Thank you to all my beta readers/editors, @blazesurrender, @maplerosekisses, and @starimperial. You all did an amazing job and I really appreciate it. I hope you all enjoy this one! Lots of angst and tears and pain this time! *evil laughter*

*Warning: Very VERY brief mentioning about a suicide attempt

Fire explodes from left to right. Troopers scream in pain, in agony. Multiple howls of anguish and despair bounce across the damaged land as Kix runs to each and every injured trooper—checking on them to make sure they are still alive. If they are, they get a tag indicating whether they have minor or major injuries. Deceased soldiers receive black tags indicating death for those who will come to collect the bodies and bury them later.

Kix almost falls to his knees when an explosion sends him forward. He growls under his breath and continues blasting away as he goes. White and blue fall to the ground like fallen angels from the heavens. It’s anything but graceful; they crumple unceremoniously to the ground in bloody heaps of tangled limbs. Kix kneels down, checks for their pulses, and tags them. He administers a small dosage of painkillers out of empathy.

“You’ll be okay. The other medics will come for you soon,” Kix reassures each one of them who is alive before he moves on.

It’s a never-ending cycle of dread, sorrow, and frustration, but he keeps moving. He can’t stop for long periods of time or other men who need him will die from their wounds. Kix cannot let that happen; he will save as many brothers as he can, even if he has to leave a couple with some painkillers and move on. ‘They will be okay’ he always reassures himself even in these dire situations.

During the battle, his senses become hyper-aware and then so numb afterward that he can barely even feel the blood on his fingertips. It paints his hands in scarlet that once was inside of his vode's bodies, flowing freely and keeping them alive. Kix hates that part —when he’ll exit a tent and stare down at his hands, and finally address it. The sensation of silent distaste surrounds him in white and black ghostly shadows of what once was.

Kix is never verbal about how much he hates feeling the blood on his hands. Other times, especially after a hard battle like this one, he’ll make it known to everyone near him how broken he truly can be. Kix’s sight blurs with tears of absolute anger and hatred. He is angry that he's lost vode, and he despises this war for what it’s done to them, to him! More blaster rifles sound through the fog in the distance and droid poppers crackle nearby, too close for comfort.

The gun in his hands feels so heavy all of a sudden. He doesn’t want to hold it anymore; he hates it. He wants to drop it and run away, but he can’t because—I have to save them all! Kix can taste salt from the sweat dotting on his upper lip as it makes its way down and into his mouth. He doesn’t mind because it’s a distraction from all the blood, horror, and gore he sees beyond the black visor hiding his terrified features.

He may seem like an emotionless soldier, but underneath he’s kriffing scared, petrified even. Kix has to hide all that unadulterated terror in the back of his mind and raise his walls up to protect himself from getting exposed to the wrong people.

Kix slams his heavily fortified facade up so he can save lives.

Another brother falls to the ground in pain. He’s not dead, not yet, so Kix dashes across till he reaches the white armor decorated in contrasting red, and pulls him into a hiding spot to check him.

What lives am I saving? I keep losing so many! So karking many!

“It’s okay, udesii. Udesii, vod. You are going to be okay. Alright?” Kix kneels down beside the injured trooper and takes off his white med-pack.

This is going to be a long day.

...

Hours later, it's over. The sun has set and the temperature has dropped to comfortable and manageable levels. Gray clouds create a dark formation in the sky in the silence that is only broken by the occasional noise—moans of agony, the sounds of cleaning and quiet chattering, troopers walking the perimeters, or the officers debriefing with the Generals. Despite the silence the night carries, there is still so much going on.

The medical tents are a holy mess of different sounds, smells, and sights. The worst part is the distinguishable metallic scent of blood on surgery tools that have to be left out on silver platters. Not surprising at all; the Republic does not give aid to the 501st or provide appropriate sterilization, which means that microorganisms live on the blades of each tool. It disheartens Kix to be well aware of that disgusting and unsanitary fact.

Kix is used to the smells, however, thanks to years and years of being a medic. It's fortunately —and unfortunately— a side effect of olfactory fatigue, which is also known as nose blindness.

Kix stares at the glowing holo-pad with empty golden eyes as his finger skids across the glass. Numbers move about on the screen. There are many casualties and many designation numbers—names—covering his holo-pad. On and on until he reaches the very bottom and lets out a shaky breath. Exhausted and trembling, he places it on the nearest tray, like a pitiful coward who could barely hold in his lunch, and walks out into the lukewarm night.

He stumbles as far away from the tents as possible, near a little grove of trees, and becomes sick. Kix trembles for so long with his clammy glove-covered palms on his knees and saliva slowly dripping from between his pale lips and sickly green covering the bridge of his nose. He says the blood doesn’t bother him, and it doesn’t, not on its own, but the number of men that died today does.

The green treetops up above sway as Kix slowly kneels in the sand near the pond, nearly as silent as the world around him. Nothing will bother him as long as he stays right here away from the others. He can still feel their blood on his hands, and his skin itches like holes cover every inch of it. He can still hear their cries of pain and agony, fear, and devastation—sounds that carry in range for miles, especially when one has lost a loved one. Kix couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if he lost Jesse to the clankers on the battlefield. What if Jesse had died alone without Kix to be there for him?

Kix closes his eyes against the negative thoughts. Jesse may not be with him right now because he's in a debriefing, but he'll come back and find Kix. He’ll search out his riduur like always, no matter where they are. Nonetheless, Kix feels so lonely that he digs his blunt nails into his skin until they create half-moon indents. Kix wants so badly for his cyare to come back and hold him, sing to him, and comfort him any way he can till the nightmare is over.

The numbers Kix saw on his holo-pad left him pale and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth like sandpaper.

Death count: Thirty-five men.

Kix grunts and slams his hand into the ground.

“Kriff,” He hisses in frustration. He lowers his head towards the soft sand under his body and breathes. The silence is broken temporarily by the wind whipping around him, the feel of it on his skin comforting, almost a physical touch.

The wind is practically hugging him.

“Kix,” A voice calls. A familiar, caring voice that almost always has an undertone of warm amusement in it.

Jesse.

He feels the sand under him shift as Jesse kneels beside him.

“Hey, you okay?” Jesse asks. He eyes the puddle of stomach bile a couple of meters away with concern before he glances at the medic once again; Jesse offers a sympathetic smile and his facial expressions soften a great deal. Kix stares at the moving sand for a second, blank and wide-eyed, before he turns his attention onto Jesse with eyes full of exhaustion and hopelessness. Jesse immediately pulls him into a consoling hug.

“Okay, it's okay. I've got you.” Jesse brushes his hand back and forth along his back and makes small shushing sounds. “What do you need?”

Kix tucks his face into the side of his neck. Hot salty tears roll down his cheeks and cross paths with the sweat and grime covering his face to create visible tear tracks. Kix tries to focus on breathing for a moment but the smoldering negative feelings return like an avalanche.

“There were so many that died, Jess. Force, I lost so many good men. All of them were good men. So man shinies...it was their first battle and they didn't even make it. It…it hurts to have to run, check them over the best I can, mark their bodies, and then keep moving. But the ones who died… Why do I have to leave so soon? Why can't I say goodbye to them,” Kix whispers into the junction between his collarbone and neck.

Jesse's hand halts on his shoulder.

“You still can. Right now. A prayer for the dead, for our brothers who've marched on to join our aliit in tra.”

Kix blinks pensively before nodding without saying another word. Jesse is right. Kix can still have a Vesper and pray for their dead brothers. It’s safe to do so now that the battle is over and the surge of adrenaline has faded. Kix isn't needed right now; the patients are resting and the other medics are watching over them, which means that Kix is free to rest— or pray with his riduur.

The two of them place their hands on their knees and bow their heads.

Kix whispers solemnly, “Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.” His eyes flutter closed.

“Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum,” Jesse whispers after him.

Kix opens his eyes and gazes up at the stars. Each one looks the same but they are all unique and different. Just like us clones. Kix opens his mouth and lets out a sigh that’s weary but resigned.

"Bongo." The first name. The first known trooper he tried to save. When Kix found him stuck under a huge pile of rubble he immediately remembered his name. The poor trooper was so scared; he thought he would die alone but Kix was there with him at the very end.

He even held Bongo's hand as the life departed his gilded eyes.

"Anzanti." The second name. A shiny who came to his med-bay once asking for help because he found one of their brothers trying to hurt himself in the ‘fresher. Anzanti was afraid and tried his hardest to distract their brother, Duros, while Kix stopped him from successfully taking his own life. Anzanti begged Kix not to tell the higher-ups, the Generals. He promised the medic he’d watch over Duros and would never take his eyes off of him.

Now Anzanti is gone.

Who will watch over Duros?

Kix knows that Duros did not die in the battle which means that Kix can find him and make sure he’s safe and well. With Azanti gone there’s no telling whether Duros, with that knowledge, will try and hurt himself again.

Kix makes a little mental note to search for Duros later. For Anzanti.

Three more shinies. "LMC-211. Ennez. Sephi." Kix remembers their names only because he saw them on the list; like many names he’ll utter in remembrance tonight.

And maybe a little more.

On and on and on till he hit the last name.

Kix swallows his grief. "Heart." His throat feels so parched without a drink of water.

Jesse thinks he's finished so he opens his mouth to say something to console him but—"Echo," Kix pushes through clenched teeth. Jesse jerks up in surprise and then he sighs, soft and reminiscent.

"Hardcase," The medic groans out this one—a painful name to remember. A name that belonged to a spirited, uplifting, and crazy vod that now only two remember. Kix ends it with a choked off sob and his arms curl around his abdomen in grief; he leans forward and rocks back and forth to withhold the tears from breaking through his carefully constructed walls. Jesse raises his hand to steady him and console him but he aborts the movement when Kix makes a sound of abandon.

Jesse sighs internally. Oh, Kix.

"Dogma," Kix growls, irate. His fingers grab at the sand that falls away around his trembling knees and legs; Kix throws it in a frantic attempt to find another outlet for his rage. Jesse lowers his head, as he is angry too but holds it back and glares at the ground.

Kix bites his tongue till it almost bleeds. So many vode. Gone. Gone!

"Tup…" Tears trickle down his face in his grief; his shoulders shudder with barely restrained fury and quickly growing anxiety. Calm yourself Kix, come on! Come down. This isn’t you and you know it. Just breathe...in and out. Be at peace. His eyes flutter closed again and his chest lifts with each careful breath.

Jesse watches him with pride, his eyes burning with that aching urge to cry in frustration.

Kix tips his head back finally and stares up at the stars for who knows how long. Millions of them glow in the night, showing the way like a lantern. There are crimson, azure, white, gold, and orange ones. Each radiating star creates part of a constellation up there, and each one is massive, alive right down to the very core of their divine being.

Jesse settles one hand on Kix's shoulder, and finally, Kix looks over at him and shivers involuntarily. Jesse nods in silent understanding.

"Fives," Kix whispers the last name almost as if he’ll get struck down. "I couldn't save him, Jess. I stood there and let him walk out of that 'fresher, I should've,” —Kix bites the inside of his cheek to stop the tears. “I should've stopped him from going out there, from getting killed."

"You couldn’t have done anything, cyare. Fives… He did something that got him into trouble, and if we had helped him in any way then we could’ve been arrested. We could’ve been taken from the battlefront and decommissioned. And I…I believe you did the right thing, Kix. Okay?" Jesse hugs him gently.

Kix takes a sharp breath and tenses.

"Stop blaming yourself for their deaths. You had nothing to do with it, and you weren’t the one who killed them. You tried your best to save them and that’s all that matters." Jesse breaks their hug in an instant so then he can stare at Kix firmly.

"Did you kill them? Any of them?" Jesse asks. Kix looks down and Jesse grabs his chin softly and brings it back up.

"Did you kill them?" He repeats, but this time plain-spoken.

"No. No, I didn't."

"Good."

"But I miss them so damn much! I wish none of them died! I wish they were here right now, next to us."

"I do too darling. I miss them every day," Jesse whispers. He cocks his head to the side, and a small tear slides down the right side of his face. Kix reaches up immediately and wipes it away.

It's silent, giving Kix time to think for a moment.

"Where they are; they are marching ahead in Tra. With Gods, we cannot see. But we will join them when it's our time as well," Kix says. His eyes, hopeful.

"Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la," Jesse whispers. He looks up at the sky in silence.

"Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la," Kix echoes.

Like that, the prayer is over. They whispered the names of the fallen and their loved ones and then they said ‘they are not gone, only marching far away.’ Afterward, the two of them remain curled against one another in the relentless sand; Jesse and Kix stare up at the heavenly skies above filled with gas giants and stars of pure beauty. The two troopers' fingers interlock together in between their thighs and then Kix rests the side of his head against Jesse's armored shoulder.

"Thank you, Jess." Kix slowly closes his eyes.

Jesse leans over and kisses his forehead.

"Of course, cyare."

In the far distance, the planet’s second moon beamed down upon a vivid, tiny funnel-shaped flower called a Statice. It stands at least 28 inches in height. The flower features small, delicate petals that fluff together atop green stems in a beautiful soft shade of pink. The Statice looks spectacular under the soft glow of radiance. The petals of this flower are visibly ethereal in every way.

Its pink shade stands for something. A special meaning.

It symbolizes Remembrance.

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