#fordo is going to KILL me

[spokewar]

"Kenobi..what are you up to?"

"What am I up to? You should be asking your siblings that; they're the ones plotting."

[squintyeyedjoel]

Through Your Eyes | Part 2 - More than Meets the Eye (Joel x Reader)

A/N: IT’S FINALLY FUCKING HERE!!!! I’m so sorry it took so long! I’ve been sitting on this for almost a year and it’s just been evolving and marinating and improving, and I hope it lives up to the hype. It’s time for it to be set free. ✨ This is truly a hybrid of game and show Joel. I see them both, hence both gifs.

I do not own The Last of Us or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Oooo, this one’s a doozy. So many things. (Let me know if I miss anything.) 😮‍💨 Some original characters, mentions of an elderly family member passing, lots of canon violence and swearing, (this one is a big one. Like a lot. There’s a hefty amount of swearing.) mention of attempted sexual assault (not to reader) without detail, graphic description of injury (not to reader) and blood, attempted abduction? Reader is a badass and sports a black eye and bloody knuckles with pride. Panic attack? But Joel scares it away. 😌 We round it all out with obscene amounts of fluff and humor between it all, sweet moments, and just soft things. It’s me. I can’t not. No use of Y/N.

Word count: 11,928

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex for reading over this five bazillion times for me and fangirling over it when I was having my down moments. You’re a real one.

Previous | Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Next

Xxx

You rocked in the saddle of your horse as she slowly followed behind the first few people in the group.

Left.

Right.

Left. 

Right.

Over.

And over.

And over.

Some quicker footfalls to your left made you turn your head, seeing Joel atop his horse come alongside you before slowing his steed back to the slow crawl the rest had fallen into.

“You okay?” He mumbled. “Look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you groused, turning back to face forward with a yawn.

He huffed out a laugh before shaking his head at you almost imperceptibly, nudging his horse to go a little faster toward the front of the group.

Watching him with narrowed brows, you saw everyone else make sure to steer clear of him, giving him a wide berth and a clear path to the front. Tommy’s words from that first day rang in your head.

“You saw a side of Joel right out the gate some wait a lifetime to miss.”

Joel whistled loudly, gathering everyone’s attention, as the whole party came to a stop. “Alright! Listen up!” Some grumbles began to go around, but stopped with one crook of his brow. “That’s an awful lot of yappin’ for people suppose t’be listenin’.” 

If a pin had dropped in the grass underfoot, it would have echoed in the vast forest around you. Even nature seemed to heed his warning, only a few stray birds chirping somewhere in the distance brave enough to break the silence. A lone frog echoed in a nearby creek bed. A few bugs buzzed by, trying to ease the tension, and it seemed to work, because finally Joel went on after staring at everybody.

“We need to pick up the pace. This isn’t a leisurely walk to the park and back. We have a goal we need to get to, and back, and we got one week to do it.”

“Who made you the boss?” Some poor brave soul asked from behind you. A young man, maybe in his mid twenties from how he sounded. You didn’t dare turn to look at him, not wanting to move your eyes from Joel, because if looks could kill…. Joel would currently be facing a serious charge for the way he was glowering at the faceless voice behind you.

“Common sense.” A few small laughs went around the group, the corner of Joel’s mouth twitching up just slightly when he saw you shake your head with a smirk. “This was my run- our run,” he pointed to you then back to himself before retaking the reins to his horse, “and the council thought it best you all tag along to bring the most back we could. Now I don’t mind-”

“Yes, you do,” another voice behind you said, female, almost teasingly, making another round of soft laughter go around.

“Fine. I mind. A lot. But we’re here now. So, since you’re tagging along on our run, what we say goes. Agreed?” When no one protested, he gestured you up to the front with a tilt of his head, going on while you nudged your horse forward. 

“Now, we need to move faster. Any bandits or infected we pass by would pick us off like flies at this pace. The cart will be the slowest, I want the four of you to stay with the cart at all times and watch all four sides.” He pointed to four individuals who nodded, moving toward the cart pulled by a single horse and rider. 

“The three of you pull up the rear.” More pointing and nodding. “The rest of you, in the middle. Keep your eyes open. Everyone keep at a steady pace, we camp at sundown wherever that is. Don’t push your horses too far.” He began to turn his own mount to move forward. “Not their fault we’re a bunch of dumbasses.”

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard him say at once,” you heard someone mutter behind you, making you smile.

“At once? Try ever,” another retorted.

Joel looked over at you. “What? Why you grinnin’?”

“They respect you.”

He scoffed. “That so hard to believe?”

“It’s a side of you I’ve not seen before. I’m used to bad puns and screwdrivers, not….” You made a swooping gesture to the group behind you, “that.”

He shook his head once, tisking at you. “Shows what you know. I’m actually partly in charge of security around Jackson.”

Your eyes widened as you turned as much as your saddle would allow to look at him, the leather creaking against the movement. “Really?”

He nodded once in confirmation, a proud smile starting up his face. “Only a part time type’f thing, and it’s purely on a trial basis right now, but…. Yeah.” He grinned brightly at you. “The jokin’ and woodworkin’ are just for fun.” The smile turned somewhat dopey and lopsided.

“There’s more to you than meets the eye, Joel Miller.” He rolled his eyes at you, the grin melting into a scoff and his signature sour expression with impressive speed. Though his eyes still shone brightly, giving away his true amusement. “And I’m gonna try to see it all.”

Shaking his head at you again, Joel looked back forward, nudging his horse to go a bit faster and pull ahead of you. “Nah. Not that deep, darlin’.”

Urging your mount forward, you maneuvered to your right, and fell in beside him with a grin. “That’s what you think.”

Joel tilted his head down and to the side toward you as he spoke for emphasis, keeping his eyes forward. “That’s what I know.” He cut his gaze to you briefly after a moment to try and drive his point home before straightening back up in his saddle, his eyes going studiously back to the wide expanse of land ahead. 

Your grin melted into a smirk, seemingly a new permanent fixture since moving to Jackson. Or more specifically, since moving in with Joel and Ellie. That thought made the side of your mouth tick even higher. “We’ll see.”

Xxx

In the chaos of starting up a new life in Jackson, you’d overlooked one little detail. While you could repair and paint just about anything on your own, you were shit at stitching any stuffed toys back together Joel happened on during runs. It was possible, but it was slow going, and to be honest, looked a bit like field dressings for a battle wound instead of repairs. 

You’d thrown the last attempt of an old wrinkled teddy bear at Joel when he’d called it Sargent Cuddles, Ellie only adding to the confirmation when she asked if you could make an eyepatch for the bear instead to cover the deep scar you’d given it by way of cross stitches.

Halfway through that first week, you’d walked into the town’s seamstress with the best smelling cinnamon loaf the bakery had to offer, fresh and steaming, under your arm. When the girl behind the counter stopped what she was doing, setting down the socks she was darning while her nose went high in the air like a bloodhound as she took a deep sniff with her eyes glassed over, you grinned. 

Target acquired.

“Can I help you?” Her voice was soft and kind, and her smile as she rose to her feet from the chair helped settle any trepidation you felt about reaching out.

People hadn’t always been kind about your hobby, for one reason or another, hence why you came with bribes at the ready. But you had a feeling this time would be different. You smirked as she nonchalantly eyed the loaf under your arm.

“Hi! Yeah! I’m the one who restores the toys? I opened up in the old bookstore down the street?” You introduced yourself, and recognition went off behind her eyes at the sound of your name.

“Oh! Joel’s girl!”

Your breath caught in your chest as your head gave a little shake of confusion at the declaration. “What?”

She chuckled somewhat nervously. “No! No, not like that, I mean…. His neighbor. His new lodger. The one in the attic.” She was talking a mile a minute. “Not his ‘his’ girl….” She slapped a palm to her forehead, cradling her head in her hand as she rocked it back and forth before pulling back just enough to look at you conspiratorially. “But can you imagine?”

After a moment of silence where you both simply stared at each other, soft laughter took over, melting the tension between you.

“Let me start over,” she huffed, lowering her hand from her face to extend it to you in greeting. “I’m Jane. Nice to meet you.”

As you shook her hand, you couldn’t help but smile at her antics. “Likewise.”

Jane turned her attention back down to the socks she had abandoned when you came in, fiddling with them absently before she looked back up at you, a soft tint of embarrassment staining her cheeks. “So, what brings you here?”

“Oh! Right.” Setting the loaf on the counter, you shrugged the backpack off your shoulder and set it down beside the bread, fishing out the few stuffed animals Joel had brought back that needed the most help. “I was hoping we could work out a deal. I can do some basic stitching, but even then, Joel and Ellie have compared my work to that of a field medic more than anything.” 

Jane snickered at the comment as she took one of the worn stuffed animals, turning it over in her hands and analyzing it as you continued.

“People trade me all sorts of goods for these, like this loaf.” You gestured to it with a bob of your head, then placed your hand on the still steaming bread. “The baker’s son has a birthday coming up, and she wanted something special. Joel and Tommy don’t always bring back stuffed animals so it wouldn’t be constant work, but I was hoping when they do, I could bring them here, and we could work out some sort of trade system for the repairs-”

“No need,” Jane said, smiling down at the stuffed tiger in her hands. You arched a brow at her, waiting for her to go on, and she finally tore her gaze away from the toy and up to you. “I had one just like this as a kid. Loved it to bits. It looked like it had been through the wars before I lost it, patches everywhere and stuffing missing so it was lumpy…. I learned to sew on that thing.” Jane looked back at the toy again fondly. “I’ll help you. All I ask is that I get to keep this one, and maybe one every few runs if they happen to stumble on any others like I used to have. I…. I had a collection.” 

When she brought her gaze back up to meet yours, her eyes were misty. “It was small, but it was everything to me. Got a new one every year when I was little from my grandparents. Stopped when I hit that certain age where adults deem you too old for those things. Which was fine.” She sniffed, a tear falling silently down her cheek. “Then my grandpa he…. He started having memory issues.” She took a deep, shaky breath, smiling sadly at the toy. “Regressed a certain amount of years…. Just so happened to be when I was a certain age, still, in his mind, and he got me a stuffed toy every year for my birthday, until….”

You reached out, placing your hand over hers. “Keep whatever you want. You don’t even have to do repairs to keep them.” She began to protest, swiping at her tears with the back of the hand still holding the tiger when you squeezed her other hand gently. “The whole reason I’m doing this in the first place is to help bring some joy back into the world. And I want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy, without me lording something over you like demanding a trade in exchange-”

Jane flipped her hand in your grip, squeezing you like you had her. “And doing this will make me happy.” You studied her for a long moment. “Do you know how boring it is to darn a sock?” You snorted a laugh, and she smiled. “Everybody in this damn town needs to take better care of their socks, I swear…. I’m up to my eyeballs in them. Nothing would make me happier than to work on something that would be giving back more to the community than dumb stinky, holey, wool.”

With a nod, you gave her hand still in your grip one firm shake, a grin crawling up your face. “It’s a deal. I’ll try to tackle the easy ones and send the few in need of more love your way. But!” You let go of her hand and held up a finger, wagging it like you were lecturing a petulant child.  “I’m also dropping some of these goods by, too.” Patting the bread on the counter before softly pushing it closer toward her, you laughed at her show stopping grin and good-natured roll of her eyes in response.

“Fine,” she mumbled around the smile, the sound anything but angry. “If you insist.”

A few days later, you’d dropped a few stuffed animals off to her that Joel had stumbled on during patrol, Ellie tagging along with you. She had opted to stay outside the shop while you went in though, leaning against the doorframe by the front window, taking in the sights and sounds of the city street.

“Not a fan of needles,” she mumbled, glancing into the shop as you opened the door to go in.

“This isn’t that kind of needle.”

“I said what I said.”

You didn’t press her on it, just nodded and mumbled an ‘okay’ before disappearing into the shop.

“Hey!” Jane greeted you, pushing aside her current project immediately to make room for the box you were carrying. “Oh, these are cute!” She picked one up in each hand, lifting them up to look at them better before trading them out for another and repeating the process until each patient had been analyzed. “They’ll be easy.” She turned to you with a smile. “I’ll be done by this weekend.”

“No rush!” You assured her as she set the box behind the counter. “If you’re not done until then, you’ll have to leave them with Tommy, though. I’m going out of town with Joel on a run, it’ll take a few days, maybe a week max. We leave tomorrow. Though, no, actually, you can just leave them with Ellie, what am I saying-”

“You’re doing what?” She interrupted you.

Focusing back on her face, you tried to get back on topic. “What? Oh, yeah! We’re going back to where I lived right before Jackson to get the stores of paints and stuff I had. Bucket loads of it, no pun intended.” You turned to look at Ellie over your shoulder. “She’s rubbing off on me in more ways than one, I guess….”

“Is it just you and Joel?”

Her question caught you off guard, pulling your gaze back to her with knit brows. “It was going to be, but the council decided it was a ‘waste of resources’, so we have to take a little group with us. Why?”

“I’m coming with you.” No hesitation, just straight to the point.

Your eyes went wide. “What? Why?”

“You said you lived about a week north, right? Near the university?”

“Yeah. Because of the university, there were storage units nearby, used to be climate controlled before everything, now they’re just enclosed spaces with extra security to keep clickers n’ shit out. I lived in one, worked in another, and stored in a third. Got pretty good at picking locks, too.” You smirked.

Her eyes were wide and serious. “The ones by the north end of campus?”

Your expression went flat. “Don’t tell me….”

“I lived in an abandoned place on the south end of campus.” She had started to grin like a Cheshire Cat. “We probably were within spittin’ distance of each other and didn’t even know it.”

A laugh barked out of your chest, several more tumbling out after it until you were bent over her counter on your elbows, wheezing. Pushing up to rest on your forearms you met her gaze again, amusement on both your faces. “No fucking way.”

“I left a sewing machine behind. It was there when I moved in, and I hope it’s still there and still works, heaven knows, but…. The buildings by the school had power when the Fireflies were there. I’d use it when I could, and I was able to do so much more work. Now that I’m here I could actually make use of it with all that I have on my plate, and the dam giving us electricity….” She sighed dreamily. “I’m going. That’s final.”

Before you could respond, the bell over the door jingled, making you stand up straight and turn to look at the newcomer.

“Everything okay?” Ellie’s voice was soft as she poked her head in, causing you to do a double take. “I heard raised voices.”

You nodded once. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re all good. Just excited. Turns out we lived right by each other before moving here.”

“Oh shit! No way!” She stood up straight with a wide grin, stepping fully into the shop and letting the door close behind her.

“Language,” you scowled.

“Sorry, Miss Fanny,” she looked sheepish, spinning on her heel dramatically before exiting the shop.

You turned back to Jane who looked on amused. “She thinks she’s funny because I use a fanny pack.” Plopping onto a tall stool that sat in front of the counter, you stared at your friend.

Jane let out a low ‘ah’ as if she now understood everything.

Knitting your brows before arching one, you leaned on one elbow on the counter. “What?”

“Why is she outside?” She asked as she fiddled with some projects behind the counter.

“Said she ‘wasn’t a fan of needles’,” you mumbled, air quoting her words as you turned to look back at Ellie through the window. “Whatever that means.”

Jane hummed in understanding, drawing your eyes back to her. “Tommy got really drunk at the bar one night after I first got here. Saying all kinds of shit. People kept walking off because he wouldn’t shut up, so I opted to walk him home to Maria. It wasn’t far, and he’s a good guy. Anyway, on the way to his house, he starts mutterin’ about his brother and his new kid, how they just got back from some failed medical something or other with the Fireflies, most of it was unintelligible.” 

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking at Ellie. You followed her gaze, finding the teen walking back and forth in the shade in front of the building, scuffing her heels as she went, and kicking rocks.

“Then, he got real sad, and said somethin’ about how he’d sent them to the university right after seein’ him for the first time in months. It was to get info on where to go for the medical procedure, I guess. Anyway.” She took a deep breath. “Apparently they got ambushed there, and Joel got stabbed real bad, almost didn’t make it. That girl out there had to care for him for weeks, drag him somewhere safe, stitch him up….”

Your breath caught in your chest as she paused for emphasis, unable to tear your eyes from Ellie as emotion swelled in your gut for your fellow housemates, but especially the tiny redhead on the other side of the glass.

“Tommy was real broken up about it. Said Joel almost died, and he felt like it was his fault. Ellie had to hunt, and somehow got Joel medicine.”

You turned to face Jane again. “How?”

“Those details weren’t real clear.” She shrugged. “Like I said, he was plastered. Maybe this whole story is some drunken imagining, but the way he sounded compared to all the shit he said in the bar?” Her face melted into something between sadness and understanding. “I’m inclined to believe him.” 

She took a hesitant breath, but stopped before letting it out slowly, then closed her eyes for a moment. After another shallow breath, she opened them to focus on you, and tried again, her voice even softer still. 

“We’d made it to his house by this point. Maria had come out and was helping me to get him inside, up the porch steps…. And he just broke down halfway up. Sat down, broke down, and started sobbing. Made it even harder to understand.” She rolled her eyes and you chuckled softly. “He said something about the medicine came at too high a cost. That Ellie paid…. Would be paying….” Jane swallowed roughly, looking to the girl through the window with something akin to admiration, then back at you. “He said it changed her.”

“Changed?” You could only whisper.

“Broke her. He said whatever happened was enough to take a spitfire, and make her an ember.” You both looked back at the teen one last time. “She’s improved a lot. I’ve seen her grow, come out of her shell just since I’ve been here, but…. It’s her eyes. They’re haunted. Whatever happened out there…. It didn’t stay out there. And it ain’t leavin’ anytime soon.”

“That explains a lot. About both of them,” you mused quietly.

“Joel I don’t know much about. He’s just the town grump.”

Despite the dark turn the conversation had taken, you burst out laughing, seeing Ellie turn toward the window at the sound with a grin.

“Everyone keeps telling me that, even him, but I just don’t see it!”

Jane’s face turned up in amusement softly. “Well, maybe you’re just one of the lucky ones like Ellie, and he likes you.”

“I think he tolerates me.” You looked across your shoulder at her, getting back to your feet from the stool you’d been perched on and faced her fully. “I live in his house. It’d be awkward if we hated each other.”

“True,” she grinned smugly.

“What?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

Xxx

Jane came riding up beside you, smiling wider than the canyon you’d passed a few miles back.

“I’m gonna regret askin’ but what in the hell has you happier than a butterfly on a daisy?”

“That’s not a real saying,” Jane mumbled, looking at you through skeptical, knit brows.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not applicable,” you countered, your own brows arched high in challenge. 

With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, Jane circled back to the topic at hand. “We’re out in the open!” She whispered, excitement lacing her tone. “I love Jackson, don’t get me wrong, but it’s so nice to be able to breathe.”

A smirk made its way up your face. “I know what you mean. Problem is you trade security for a great wide unknown. The possibilities of things that can go wrong out here are much scarier than anything in Jackson.”

She pulled a face. “Nothin’s gonna go wrong when we have a man like Joel leading us. He knows what he’s doing.”

“Most of the time,” you mumbled. “The rest he’s just wingin’ it.”

“Heard that,” Joel grumbled as he passed by your other side, pulling in front of you from the back of the group where he was making rounds. “You’re one to talk.” He looked over his shoulder at you, face stoic as ever, but his eyes showed his amusement.

“I know things,” you shot back, head tilted back to look down your nose at him. “Lots of stuff.”

“Oh, I see,” his tone was condescending, but playful. “Stuff.”

“And things.”

“Oh, we mustn't forget the things….”

“Yeah, okay.” You looked to the side with an unamused grin. “Fuck you, Joel.”

“I mean, if you’re offerin’….”

Your jaw dropped as your head turned slowly to face him, eyes wide as you simply stared at him in shock.

He smirked. “What? You can dish it, but you can’t take it?” Joel’s tone was nothing but teasing, his eyes dancing with unspoken amusement.

Narrowing your eyes at him, his smile faltered slightly. “You have no idea what I can take.” Nudging your horse forward to fall into step beside him, you held his gaze with your head high, brow arched. “And I don’t think you want to find out.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“When I push back. You wouldn’t be able to handle it, Joel.”

He cleared his throat. “Look, I was just messing around. This wasn’t supposed to take such a serious turn. I’m sor-”

You couldn’t take it anymore. The laugh tumbled out of your mouth before you could catch it, more and more coming out to join it.

Joel lowered his brows, glaring at you. “That ain’t funny.”

Wheezing, you pointed at him. “You should have seen your face!”

A horse trotting up beside you made you turn, expecting to see Jane once again at your side, but all you were met with was her horse, sans rider. You thought quickly enough to grab the reins and guide it along with you, before you looked back at Joel, finding his eyes already searching the group. Turning, you tried to sit higher in your saddle for a better vantage point, when movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention.

Near the tree line, Jane struggled in the arms of a man as he yanked her back towards the cover of the woods, none too delicately, one hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.

“Jane!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, and you could see when she heard you, her body going rigid in her captor's hold.

The man yelped, pulling his hand back from her mouth and shaking it. 

She must have bit him. 

Before you could fully process much of anything else, Jane was screaming at the top of her lungs, “Run!” 

The hand was back over her mouth before she could say anything else, the raider pulling them both back until they disappeared into the trees, Jane putting up a violent struggle as they went. 

Not willing to look away from where she disappeared, you called out for Joel, and he was beside you in an instant. His horse picked up on the sudden unease spreading over the group, shifting its weight from foot to foot restlessly.

“We’ll get her, darlin’,” Joel reassured in a low voice. “Don’t you worry. We ain’t-”

Suddenly the entire group was surrounded by raiders, guns and knives of various sizes pointed towards every member of your party, violent threats being traded back and forth from both sides. 

While you had thought your group was large, this bandit raid made your numbers pale in comparison. At least double your head count at first glance, easily. And you had a feeling more were lurking in the shadows somewhere, if what had happened to Jane was any indication. 

You noticed that while several of the men aimed menacing looking rifles at your party, they lacked the magazines full of ammunition to back them up. Leaning toward Joel as subtly as you could when they ordered everyone to dismount their horses, you mumbled under your breath, “They have no bullets.”

He looked at you in confusion for just a moment, brows knit until one of the raiders yelled loudly and pulled his attention away. 

Falling in behind him, you whispered again, “Their rifles. They have no ammunition. No magazines. It’s all for show.” You saw the moment the information registered for him, his shoulders setting a bit broader, and his head held just that much higher.

A raider a few feet to your right was eyeing you skeptically, looking like he might dismount his horse any second and make a move toward you, so you pretended to trip into the back of Joel, smirking into his chest when he caught you.

Without missing a beat, his arm firmly around your shoulders to steady you, Joel went straight for negotiations, trying to talk the men down, offering supplies, whatever they wanted. You weren’t far from Jackson, it was a smart move. You could get back and recoup your losses in no time. But people? You can’t replace them.

“Nah,” the head honcho said with a sarcastic sneer. “We’ve got somethin’ else’n mind.”

You didn’t like the sound of that.

The raider in charge gestured Joel over to a smaller group of his men, which he obeyed reluctantly. After looking down at you for a moment, offering the most subtle nod you’d ever seen a person give, he began to move toward the small group of raiders. 

The boss stopped him just short of the rest and asked him a question in a low voice, which Joel answered softly, shooting you a look which you couldn’t quite read. You couldn’t quite make out what he said, either, but then the head raider decided to make a scene, show who was in charge, and it all made sense. 

In a loud voice, full of bravado and misplaced charisma, the raider turned back to your group with arms spread wide, rifle held lazily in one hand, and called for Joel’s second in command - Will - to hop down and join his ‘fearless leader’. 

Surrounded by the smaller group of thugs, you could tell what the goal was…. They meant to make a spectacle for the rest of you. Take the leaders down, the rest will follow. But Joel didn’t let them get that far. He mumbled something to Will so subtly, you almost missed it, but you saw the younger man’s eyes dart to one of the raider’s guns, and you immediately knew where this was headed.

It all went by in a blur, and yet it was like you could see every detail in painful accuracy. And you couldn’t look away.

In an instant Joel had dropped three of the men in the smaller group surrounding them.

Will another two.

They both had commandeered their own rifles back off of those men, and they were now aimed at the remaining two raiders around their small group. 

The one in front of Joel began to move forward, only making Joel smirk as he jerked the bolt action on the rifle. “Try it.” The raider stopped, making Joel’s smirk only rise higher up his cheek. “Good choice.”

That’s when all hell broke loose. 

It was almost like someone kicked a pile of ants. The stillness of the valley you were in was broken and everyone swarmed at once. A cacophony of sounds clashing all around you. 

You went on autopilot for most of it, simply fighting for your life and that of those in your group. It could have been hours or only minutes later, but the next time you really started to pay attention, or frankly, were able to focus on any one thing in particular, you saw a raider sneaking up on Will a few paces in front of you, and you lifted the rifle you’d snagged off of one of the men you’d taken down.

“Hey, bucko!” The raider froze and turned to you with a sneer, the expression falling off his face when he came nose to nose with the muzzle of your rifle. You cocked the bolt action just for added effect, chambering a bullet as you somehow had found the one locked and loaded gun the raiders had. Hands lifted in surrender, he slowly took a resigned step backwards, grip tightening around the knife still clutched in his right hand. “Drop it,” you ordered, narrowing your eyes at his slight smirk. “Nice and easy, now.”

Will turned to see what the fuss was, his eyes going wide when he realized what had happened. He looked between you and the raider from over the bandit’s shoulder, raising a brow at you in question, but you motioned him on with a jerk of your head to the left, keeping the rifle braced on your right shoulder and aimed at the raider. “I got it. Go help the others.”

Nodding, Will took off toward the remaining chaos, leaving you with the scumbag at the end of your barrel. He started to move after Will but you tisked, taking a step closer. “Not a good idea.” The lowlife hissed through his teeth in aggravation, but you cut him off before he could even start in on an actual sentence. “Knife. Ground. Now.” With a half step forward for emphasis, you gestured toward the field underfoot with your rifle before centering your sights back on their target. 

The man arched his back away from you as you took the small step closer, his hands shooting up higher beside his head. He then began to slowly lower to his haunches to lay the blade on the grass, his other hand still held up in surrender. His eyes flitted from the weapon to something behind you, and before he could set it all the way down, or you could turn to look, an arm wrapped around your neck, cutting off your air supply.

Both the man behind you and the man in front of you laughed, cheering at your misfortune as you dropped your rifle, the weight of the weapon jerking its strap across your shoulders as it fell to your side. 

You clawed at the arm wrapped around your neck, gasping for air, and grunting as you tried to get a shot in with your elbow, but he pinned down your arms with his other arm wrapping around your torso.

A voice close to your ear leered, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’ll all be over soon.”

The raider in front of you suddenly started screaming, dropping the blade in his hand in order to clutch his knee, blood pouring violently from a wound made by a large pocket knife you’d know anywhere protruding from its side. 

“Don’t move!”

All three sets of eyes pulled over to find Joel standing just a few feet away, rifle raised and aimed at the raider now in a heap on the ground. His gun swung over to the man still holding you hostage, a dark chuckle rippling out through the chest pressed closely to your spine at the movement, and it made your skin crawl.

“Let ‘er go,” Joel said in a low voice, something dark and menacing thrown right back at the thief trying to steal your life away.

“Nah,” the man said after a minute, amusement heavy in his tone. “We’re just havin’ too much fun, aren’t we, sweetheart?” He tightened his grip around your neck as he pulled you closer, squishing his cheek to yours in mock affection.

You mumbled something as best you could, but it came out all garbled from the pressure on your windpipe.

“Aw, I’m sorry, I’m bein’ mean, aren’t I?” His tone was mocking. He loosened his grip slightly, the arm around your midsection disappearing altogether as he twisted slightly to get a better view of your face. “Now, try that again?”

“I said,” your voice was hoarse from the struggle, so you cleared your throat, shifting your weight slightly as you looked to Joel with wide eyes in mock fear. “I said-” In one smooth motion, you swung the butt of your rifle up and back, and slammed the man in the face, squinting when blood sprayed out of his mouth and onto your cheek.

Taking the opportunity, you elbowed him in the ribs, before stomping on his foot, spinning around once his arm around your neck released you and kneeing him in the crotch. 

Stepping closer to him once he fell to his knees cradling his damaged manhood, you looked down at him as you wiped his blood from your cheek with the back of your sleeve. “I said fuck you.”

With a quick jerk of your knee to his face, the raider fell backwards, out cold. You turned to face his friend who laid in a ball on the ground, hands gripped tightly around the knife still protruding from his knee.

���I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He began to try and scramble back, looking to Joel for some sort of help as you approached.

Joel only shrugged, looking at you with wide eyes for just a moment before turning back to the poor man. “Hell hath no fury ‘n all that….”

Kneeling in front of the man, you smiled disarmingly sweet. Reaching out to grip the knife, you looked up at Joel. “This yours?” Lifting a brow at your rhetorical question, you knew very well it was his, he nodded. With a yank, you pulled it out of the man’s leg, his screams cut short when you elbowed him in the face, knocking him out like his companion.

Lifting your rifle slightly, Joel began to make a fuss, “Darlin’, they’re down-” but he stopped when you over exaggeratedly clicked on the safety, lifting a sarcastic brow at him. Rising to your feet, you wiped the blade off on your jeans before closing it and handing it back to Joel.

He took it cautiously, watching as you rubbed at your throat with a wince. “Thanks.”

“No, thank you. If you hadn’t shown up and distracted them, I wouldn’t have been able to get the jump on ‘em.”

He looked at the two men before looking back at you, his eyes flitting down to the rifle for the briefest of moments. “Looks like you would’ve been just fine.”

You leaned in closer to him, adjusting the weapon’s strap across your chest. “Take the compliment, Joel.”

He grinned softly. “Yes ma’am, Miss Fanny.”

You groaned at the nickname. “You know what? I don’t even really mind.”

It looked like Joel wanted to say more, but other members of your group came running up, looking around frantically only to find all the enemies already taken care of.

“We didn’t hear any shots,” Will said absently, staring at the two motionless forms on the ground after a wary glance. “Thought you might need some help.” After a long moment of silence, he looked from you, to Joel, then the raiders. “They still alive?” He pointed toward the men, one of them stirring with a pained moan.

“Only just,” Joel mumbled, watching the one man begin to roll to his side, the one who had held on to you, before his gaze flicked to the other, noticing his breaths becoming shallower and shallower. Gesturing to the latter with his rifle still held in his hands, he looked back up at Will. “That one’s not longed for this world if you don’t get something to stop the bleedin’. Need information from both, preferably.”

Will nodded, motioning to the others with a nod of his head, quickly moving toward the raiders.

You had turned toward Joel, your back to the men when a twisted voice rose up behind you, slurring around laughter as if it knew the funniest joke in all the world. 

“Well, sweetheart, I’m just so goddamn sorry things didn’t work out ‘tween us.” 

Joel glared at the raider over your shoulder. “Stop talking, asshole,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he took a step closer to the man, slightly in front of you. Turning to face the man yourself, you thought you’d steeled yourself for whatever you’d see, but the twisted smirk you were met with made your stomach drop. 

Laughter turned to wheezing, wet coughs before the man spit off to the side in front of him, blood painting the ground an ugly, violent color. He lifted his head just enough to look at you again, snickering as he peered through his lashes. “I had such plans for you….”

“I said be quiet,” Joel’s voice had grown more firm, and he opted to step to the side, obscuring your view of the creep instead of taking any steps closer.

“Oh, but they were nothin’ compared to what we were gonna do to that little friend of yours…. That blonde? Whoo! She was feisty!”

“Can somebody shut him the fuck up!” Joel bellowed, turning to the group simply standing by and watching the exchange.

Will shrugged off his outer layer flannel, balling it up as he stomped toward the man and began to shove it in his mouth.

The man weaseled back away from the cloth, shouting with wild eyes, “You’ll never find her!” His following laughter was muffled around the material, manic and unhinged.

“Will, I need you to….” Joel trailed off when you put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him to the side gently. He tried to stop you walking towards the lunatic, but you met his gaze with your own, unwavering, and he let you go, following close behind, one hand adjusting his grip on his rifle as he held it loosely just in case.

Kneeling down in front of the man, you got close to his face. “What did you do with Jane?” Your voice was so low and quiet, you barely recognized it.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The man mumbled around the shirt, eyes wild and sure of himself. 

Looking down toward the ground, you huffed out an unamused laugh. “I’m going to ask you one more time,” you lifted your gaze to look at him straight on again, “and you’re going to tell me, or else my friends are going to be not so nice to you.” The man scoffed. “What did you do…. with Jane?”

The man leaned forward, his nose almost touching yours. “Go fuck yourself, bitch.”

Without hesitation, you slammed Joel’s pocket knife you’d swiped from his jacket a moment ago into the man’s hand where it rested on the ground with your left hand, yanking the shirt out of his mouth as he screamed with your right, and tackled him backwards onto the ground, pinning your right forearm against his throat. As he struggled against your hold, you twisted the knife still gripped tightly in your hand, making him settle into the dirt.

“Okay! Okay! Okay! Fuck! Just stop!” He looked at Joel with wide, wild eyes. “Get the bitch off me!” 

You noticed some of your party moving toward you, but they stopped with a hand motion from Joel.

He studied you with an unreadable expression before looking back at the man and jutting his chin toward you. “Tell her what she wants t’know.”

“Get her off me first!”

“Talk!” You growled, digging your arm in further, making him gasp. When he turned a defiant look up your way, your knee ‘slipped’ where you straddled him and landed dangerously close to his ego once again.

“Okay, okay, goddamn!” He wheezed, collapsing fully into the ground below him, eyes fluttering shut as his face twisted in pain. 

It was all you could do to repress the triumphant smirk wanting to crawl up your face, your brows arching in amusement instead.

“She’s back at our camp. ‘Least that’s where we left her. Don’t know how she’d move much after what boss did, though.” He looked back up at you again, everything about his expression amused, and nothing seemed to dull it, even as you pressed your arm harder into his throat, only causing his words to take on a sinister hiss. “He stuck her good. You think this little knife is somethin’, you should see the one he used on-” his words trailed off on a gurgled chuckle as you continued to lean into him.

“Hey,” Joel’s calm voice near your ear made you pause, staring down at the creep. “We need him alive, darlin’. Stop.” A warm strong hand gripping your upper arm firmly made you lift off the man just slightly, glaring down at him as he sucked in a breath and started coughing, grinning up at you triumphantly. He hissed with a wince when you yanked out the knife, bringing the hand close to his chest to hold it tight with his other, and wrapped it haphazardly with the flannel Will had shoved in his mouth to stop the bleeding. 

“You Jacksoner’s are all the same,” he shook his head in amusement. “Bleeding hearts, all of ya!” He grinned up at the group in the most sinister way you’d ever seen. “And that is why you’re all gonna burn.”

At that, Joel was yanking you off the raider and pulling him up to a seated position with both hands twisted into his jacket, getting right into his face with the most menacing voice you’d heard yet. “What did you just say?”

The man just smiled a tight lipped smile, eyebrows shooting up before he used his good hand to pantomime locking his mouth and tossing away the key.

“They had a bunch of dead guns. No ammunition. How in the hell were they planning to do something to Jackson?” You mused offhandedly, mostly talking to yourself.

“Guns ain’t the only way to make somebody bleed,” the freak singsonged, looking at you gleefully.

You glared at him. “I liked you better out cold.”

He guffawed. “I liked you better up close….”

Joel gave the man a forceful shake by the front of his shirt still in his grip. “What’d I say?” The man rolled his head back to Joel with a bored look, his lips twitching up just slightly. “Y’either start talkin’ ‘bout somethin’ important I want t’hear about, or I’ll reach my hand so far down your Goddamn-”

“This one’s not doing well, Joel,” one of the party mentioned, checking the pulse of the other raider. “We need to get them back to camp.”

The man in Joel’s grip slowly melted into a wide grin. “Looks like you need me now more than ever.”

Joel began to smirk, and it made the raider’s sure grin falter. “Yeah, but that can change real quick.” He shoved the man back, rising to his full height before turning back toward you and walking quickly. A hand closing around your arm once again, you followed where it led. 

“Get them to camp. Will, get a party of four together and come with us to go get Jane. The rest of these assholes are dead, there’s no one to keep her there anymore. She probably tried to run, and if she’s injured, we need to spread out and cover as much ground as possible.” 

He stopped, looking over his shoulder when no one was moving. “Let’s go!”

When he turned to look down at you, you saw something in his eyes close to fear. “We’ll find her, Joel.”

He held your gaze as he kept moving you further away from the scene. “I know, darlin’.” He looked forward again, walking a bit faster. “I know. Now let’s get goin’. Sun’s gonna be settin’ real soon.”

Xxx

As the two of you made your way in the direction the thug had sent you in, your mind began to wander.

“What if it’s the wrong direction, Joel?”

“He said go east-”

“No, I know.” You closed your eyes briefly as you took in a sharp breath through your nose before looking forward once again. “But what if he lied?”

Joel sighed, looking down at his feet as he continued to walk. “Darlin’,” he looked deep in thought but also at a loss for words at the same time. It was such an inextricably Joel thing to do, it almost pulled a smile up one side of your face.

Almost.

Glancing over his shoulder toward the small group that was following along to help, the rest staying behind with the two assholes, he then took a step closer to you, speaking in a low voice.

“He very well may’ve.” When your eyes went wide, Joel was quick to continue on. “But,” he smiled at your now narrowed glare. “I’ve been patrolling these hills for a few years, now. Never out this far, mind you, but I know the general area. There’s a stream that runs not far from here. Anyone with any brains would camp near it. I know the worlds gone t’shit, but I refuse to believe we as a species have fallen that far that fast.”

His smile spread a little further at your soft chuckle.

“Touché, Miller. Touché.”

Grinning like a child, Joel turned back to the rest of the group, his expression turning stony in an instant. “The rest of you, fan out!” His voice was a low hiss. “Keep quiet and keep aware. These trees are dense from here on out to the creek. Keep a lookout. I’m not responsible for your own stupidity.”

Good-natured eye rolls went around as the few people spread into the trees starting to populate the clearing you’d been passing through.

Joel grabbed your arm when you went to take a step forward. “Not you.” He shook his head gently when you looked up at him. “You’re coming with me.”

“I’ll stay within sight,” you argued, pulling your arm from his grip. “I’m not a child, Joel.”

“No, you don’t-”

“I can take care of myself.” Taking a few steps forward into the tree line, you looked for any signs of life, but before you could get far, Joel’s voice was at your ear again. 

“Don’t-”

He yanked you back into him, making you stumble into his chest. Lifting your head up to glare at him, you came nearly nose to nose as he looked down at you and you looked up at him. Your breath stopped, catching in your chest as your eyes scanned his face.

“Tripwire,” he mumbled, his eyes firmly watching your lips as they moved soundlessly in shock.

“Thanks,” you finally managed, closing your mouth and clearing your throat.

Joel nodded.

You went to take a step back, looking over your shoulder towards the trap, but his grip on your upper arm wouldn’t let you move. 

Turning back to look at him in question, your curious expression melted when you found him even closer than before, his eyes cast down as his nose lightly bumped the side of yours.

The distance continued to close, only a breath left between you when a faint scuffle then a thud was heard, making you both pull apart like lightning.

Turning, the two of you saw Will suspended upside down by his ankle from a nearby tree.

“Careful. Tripwire,” you grinned.

Will smirked sardonically, arms coming to cross over his chest after batting away his flannel outer layer that hung in his face since he was inverted - he’d dug out a spare from his bag after using his original to shove into the mouth of the crazy raider. “We found a blood trail.”

The smile fell off your face as your gut sank. “That’s-”

“A good thing,” Will cut you off. “Means she was moving. She was alive.” After a loaded moment of shared looks, he cleared his throat. “Can someone cut me down, please? I’m getting woozy.”

Xxx

You only encountered a few stragglers at the camp, Joel earning some bloody knuckles and you a black eye, but the remaining members of the bandit group lay in lifeless heaps at the feet of your group when it was all said and done. There was no chance for prisoners, they weren’t going to be taken alive. 

Which meant that one idiot back at the camp who’d tried to kill you had to stay alive if you wanted any answers.

The thought of that made you start to hyperventilate. 

Which wasn’t like you.

You took everything in stride, this new world required it, but suddenly you felt his arm around your neck again, and you began to claw at the phantom limb, gasping for air as tears began to stream silently down your face.

You couldn’t look anywhere without seeing a body, violence, bloodshed….

Can’t breathe….

Everything blurred by as you faintly registered your feet moving you forward, a warm hand around your forearm pulling you gently along before the firm press of tree bark met your back with a gentle thump.

The soft trace of rough, callused fingers making their way past your cheeks to rest behind your ears drew a shiver from your bones. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re good. It’s over. I’m here.” Joel’s mumbled words vibrated somewhere in front of you, desperately grasping at you to give you something to hold onto. Cradling your face in his hands, Joel stood toe to toe with you. He took a small step closer and leaned down, pressing his forehead to your own as you fought for air. “Nothing’s gonna get you. I won’t let it.”

The phantom touch of that asshole’s arm around your throat still constricted your airway, threatening to make the world cave in.

Joel reached up to gently grab your hands still frantically clawing at your throat, placing them on either side of his ribcage, and you clutched onto his flannel under his jacket for dear life. The warmth from his body heat radiated into your palms and sent a wave of something down to your toes. Worrying the threadbare fabric between your fingers mindlessly, Joel seemed to notice and step even closer still, enough that a deep enough breath would close the distance. 

Though, as you thought about it, how he still had room to maneuver any further into you was a mystery, you didn’t even know it was possible. It seemed like every part of you was wrapped up in every part of him.

His voice drew your thoughts back to the present. “Hey, hey. Shhhh…. No more. He’s gone.” Did his voice just crack? “It’s over.” His voice grew a little firmer, if not quieter. “It’s over.”

If only he knew, you weren’t struggling to breathe because of the remnants of a panic attack anymore. No, now it was his proximity. His warm breath fanning across your face as he mumbled words of peace. The press of his skin against yours as he cradled your face so gingerly.

Time stopped, the world ceased its spinning, and suddenly all that was left was this right here between the two of you. This quiet moment, in the middle of a forest, painted in violence and hope, in fear and tenacity, in…. Vibrant shades of both of you.

Will walked up around the tree quietly, clearing his throat softly. “Some of these men were dead long before we got here.”

“Jane,” you smiled. 

“That girl sure is a spit fire,” Joel remarked with his own grin, pulling away from you just slightly, but still keeping you in his hold.

Turning to Will, you steeled your shoulders. “Take me to the blood trail.”

Xxx

It took all of ten minutes of tracking to find Jane leaning against a tree with her back to you, heaving breaths as the right side of her shirt was stained crimson. The violent splotch was spreading, whatever wound obviously still angry and weeping under her white shirt, her outer layer long gone and forgotten in the chaos by now. 

“Jane?” You called out softly from several yards back. A twig snapped under foot, causing a flock of birds in the trees above to startle and take flight in a whir of wings and wind.

She whirled around, knife held out in front of her at the ready, eyes wide and wild from the adrenaline. When she realized who it was, relief washed over her features so strongly it brought tears to your eyes. She dropped the blade to the ground with a clatter and slumped the side of her shoulder against the tree with a huff.

“Took you long enough,” she breathed in amusement, turning so her back was to the tree with her head thrown back, her face toward the sky, wincing in pain.

Before you could even make a move towards her, Will was there helping her back to her feet, scooping her up bridal style and carrying her back towards camp, her head on his shoulder as she went limp, finally able to rest.

Will glanced back when no one else moved. “Come on!” He whisper shouted. “She needs help as soon as possible, or I’m going to-” He caught himself. “We’re going to lose her.”

As the group moved in unison behind a speedwalking Will, you glanced up at Joel in amusement. “Do you think he knows?”

Joel shook his head with a grin. “Everyone else does, so no, probably not.”

You chuckled, despite the situation. It was probably the relief that she was alive finally catching up with you. “That girl’s got his number.”

Huffing a laugh, Joel looked at the back of Will’s head as he rapidly disappeared at the front of the group. “Wrapped around her little finger like those little things she uses to protect herself when she sews back at her shop. Oh, what’re they called?”

You stared at him for a long moment before quietly suggesting in hesitation, “Thimbles?”

Joel slapped his thigh before pointing at you with a renewed grin. “That’s the one!”

With a shake of your head, you turned back to face forward and head up toward the front with your friends. “Ellie was right. You’re losing it, old man.”

“Ain’t old,” he grumbled, his face instantly turning sour. “Jus‘ ‘xperienced.”

“Then you should know all the words, Joel.” You smirked. “No excuses.”

“I do know all the words,” he groused. “That’s the problem. I know too much, my brain can’t keep up.”

You turned to face him, walking backwards. “Sure. That’s the problem.”

“I know things,” he shot back, echoing your words from earlier, his head tilted back to look down his nose at you in a mirror image as he continued to mock your earlier statement. “Lots of stuff.”

“Oh, I see,” your tone was condescending, but playful as you mimicked him right back. “Stuff.”

“And things.” He was trying so hard not to smile.

You were not, letting the grin spread broadly across your face. “Oh, we mustn't forget the things….”

“Yeah, okay.” Joel looked to the side to try and hide his amused grin. “Fuck you, darlin’.”

“I mean, if you’re offerin’….”

His head snapped back to look at you in surprise as you threw his words right back at him yet again. Joel opened his mouth to refute, but you cut him off with a grin. 

“I’m going to go make sure he doesn’t promise her his house or something. Boy would give her half of Jackson if he could.”

“He can have your half, you jackass,” Joel grumbled playfully as you turned back to face the front of the group. “Mine ain’t for sale. Don’t care how pretty you are.”

You glanced over your shoulder, fluttering your lashes ridiculously. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I meant her,” Joel gestured to your friends with his rifle still loosely gripped in his hands, strap slung over his shoulders, at the ready just in case, like always. “Ain’t nothin’ pretty ‘bout what you just said.”

“I only spoke the truth.”

“You’re only makin’ it worse.”

Xxx

The sun was setting by the time Joel was able to pry you away from Jane. You hadn’t wanted to leave her side as Will took it upon himself to treat and dress her wound. 

You held her hand as she grunted in pain while he disinfected the area with a bottle of alcohol someone had brought, then stitched it up. Luckily the blade had missed anything vital, and hadn’t been rusty, thank goodness.

So far this whole trip had been getting by by the skin of your teeth, and that didn’t bode well with you. 

Once she fell asleep, Joel coaxed you over to a clearing not too far away for a breath. A bucket full of water from the nearby stream had been brought to wash the blood off your hands.

Staring down at the water as it turned pink under your touch, tinged with the blood of your friend, you looked up when a shadow crossed over the little bit of sunlight left in the day.

Joel stood just in front of the dying light, backlit and a silhouette as he extended a…. rock? to you.

“That creek is fed from the mountains. Snow melt. Coldest thing around. Best alternative to ice we’ve got right now.” You narrowed your brows at him, making him sigh in frustration. “For your eye,” he said as if it were obvious. 

“Oh,” you said dumbly and took it, lightly resting it against your left eyebrow where you felt the worst of the black eye forming. The cool, smooth stone instantly offered some relief for an ache you hadn’t even realized you had, making you groan softly, and shut your eyes with a grateful sigh. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Mmm-hmm.” The side of his mouth twitched up as he lowered himself to the ground beside you with a quiet groan. “T’ain’t nothin’.”

Pulling the stone away to examine it for a moment, you arched a brow when Joel slowly pressed it back to your head. “Don’t work if you don’t keep it there, darlin’.”

“Really?” You said as sarcastically as you could muster.

“Huh-uh,” he confirmed with a gentle shake of his head, keeping the stone pressed firmly to your skin. “It’s not a comfort by osmosis thing.”

“No healing by proxy?” You groused, despite the smile working its way up your face, your one good eye squinting from the held back laughter you were just managing to reign in as you looked up at him.

The corner of his mouth lifted so high a dimple creased his cheek. “Now wouldn’t that be somethin’,” he mused softly. 

The two of you sat in comfortable quiet for a long moment, his hand still holding the rock to your head gently until you finally decided it was time to break the silence.

“So what’s the plan from here, Mr. partially-in-charge-of-security?”

Joel’s hand fell from you with a sigh as he shook his head slightly in disbelief, his gaze turned forward as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you after an attempt at a joke that bad. “I’ve been goin’ over it in my head since we left their camp-”

“That must’ve been painful,” you muttered, grinning innocently when he cut his eyes over to you.

They shut briefly with another loaded sigh before they fluttered open and he turned to look at the forest on his right while he continued. “Best I can come up with-” he held a finger up in front of your face without a glance back your way. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

You stared at his finger inches from your nose. “I wasn’t-” You totally were. 

The finger began to wag as his head rolled back to level you with a look. “Now, we both know that’s a lie, darlin’.” You shrank under his continued stare and he went on. “Best I can think of is to send the majority back home since we’re still so close to Jackson. Have them protect Jane and those two raiders we got to interrogate.” His arms were propped up on his bent knees, and his fist clenched at the mention of the thugs.

After he stared off vacantly for a moment, he brought his gaze back onto you. “That means the cart is going to have to go back with them, though. Jane’s in no condition to walk, and you did a number on asshole number one.” He chuckled. 

“Don’t even worry about the cart,” you waved him off. “Jane is more important. What about asshole number two?” Rubbing your throat absently with the hand not holding the rock to your head, you stared into the trees straight ahead before you realized what you were doing and lowered your hand, turning your gaze back to Joel. “He can still walk just fine.” You tilted your head in thought for a moment. “May be a little bit more of a waddle, but….”

Joel chuckled darkly, hanging his head as his shoulders shook with the laughter. Finally he looked up at you through his lashes, a conniving expression twinkling in his eyes. “Let the little ugly duckling waddle back, then.”

“How will we be sure he doesn’t waddle off?”

“I’ve been known to tie a knot or two in my day.”

As the novelty of the whole situation wore off, you turned to face Joel a bit more fully, letting the hand that held the rock fall from its spot against your face to rest in your lap, ignoring Joel’s scowl in protest. 

“You said most of the group. Joel, we should all go back. Safety in numbers. Making sure everyone is safe is more important than my paint-” 

“Safety in numbers. Exactly. That’s why most’f’em are goin’ back. We only need a few t’do this run. It also made us a target bein’ such a big group. The council made a shit decision ‘bout that. There’s a reason patrols’re only two people.” He looked out at the woods again. “It was temptin’ to leave it just the two’f us as originally planned, but, after yesterday, even you could see the perks’f havin’ a few extra people should somethin’ happen.”

“Quality not quantity.”

Joel bobbed his head, his eyes shining proudly as you understood. “‘xactly.”

Something wasn’t sitting right. “But what about the threats, Joel? They said somethin’ about Jackson was gonna burn….”

“People say all kinds o’shit when you’ve got a pocket knife in one hand n’your knee pinnin’ their crotch to the dirt.”

You let out a snort, unable to contain your laughter at his blunt explanation. “Can’t say you’re wrong there.”

Joel leaned back with a contented sigh, propping his arm up on his bent leg. “I’m never wrong.”

You let out another snort of laughter, more bubbling up and out when he shot you a glare. 

Xxx

That night, just as the sun began to set, Joel slammed the back tailgate of the cart shut after helping Jane up into it.

“You good?” He asked quietly, his voice soft and kind.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Joel.” Jane reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder. 

“Not worried ‘bout you, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his eyes darting over to the wounded raider sitting as far from him as he could get in the front corner of the cart. The bandit cowered under his stare but stayed silent. “Was more worried ‘bout him.” Joel looked at Jane pointedly as he explained, his head tilted forward while he looked at her through his lashes and arched brows.

“Like I said,” Jane spoke firmly, her voice low and even as she turned to look at the asshole, making him cower even further. “I’ll be fine.”

“Whaddabout me?” The second bandit who had tried to choke you said loudly and amusedly from where he stood behind the cart a few feet away from Joel, his hands bound by one end of rope and the other end tied to the back of the cart. “Do I get a send off from tall, dark and brooding?”

Joel turned to him without even fully looking at the man, cocking his rifle as he spoke on a tired sigh. “That can be arranged.”

The raider guffawed as he stumbled back a few steps, Joel striding forward the ground he lost, while you stepped in between, hands extended.

“Stop. There’s no time for this.” Turning to face Joel, you lowered your arms. “Joel, let the little shit leave.”

The raider’s voice rose behind you like a forgotten tendril of smoke, thin and pungent, just enough to remind you it was there. “Ain’t nothin’ little ‘bout me, darlin’.”

Without a second thought, you whirled around and clocked the thug in the eye, making him stumble back further, the rope stretching to its limit and yanking him forward to his knees.

“Except your brain, apparently.” You shook out your hand to your side, the impact from the punch leaving a searing sting across your knuckles. “You don’t get to call me that.”

“What do I get to call you then?” The man sneered, bringing his bound hands up to swipe at his face.

You took a step closer, smirking, and enjoyed how the amused sparkle in his eyes faltered slightly at the sight. “Whatever you say when you’re begging for your life, tough guy.”

The man swallowed nervously, despite his narrowed eyes of contempt. “I don’t beg for anything. From anyone. ‘specially not you.”

You let your eyes travel up and down the length of him slowly in an unnerving appraisal. “We’ll just see about that. Won’t we, Joel?”

“Lookin’ forward t’hearin’ just how loudly he won’t beg….” Joel mused behind you.

“Fuck. You,” the man hissed.

“No. Thanks,” you sneered back.

Will pulled your attention away as he stepped up on the wheel of the cart to lean in beside Jane, his weight making the whole thing squeak under the pressure. “Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you to keep this asshole in line?” He jerked his head toward the guy tethered at the back.

Jane smiled and patted Will’s cheek lightly. “I think I’ll be just fine. Like I told Joel.” Her eyes flicked between the two of them. Her voice sickly sweet. “Now if you two don’t stop coddling me, one of you is going to be injured and sitting beside me on this trip back to Jackson. So shut,” she looked at Will, “your,” Joel, “piehole.” She looked at you.

You raised your hands in surrender. “Me? “ They turned out in question. “What did I do?!”

She shrugged, her head tilting just slightly. “It was preemptive.” Leaning towards Will again, she kissed him on the cheek, smiling when he began to sputter and turn six shades of red. “Stay with Joel. He needs you here more than he’ll admit.”

“I heard that,” Joel grumbled, walking past the end of the cart as he began to check in with the rest of the group.

“Good. You were meant to,” Jane grinned, lurching slightly as the cart began to move forward, Will jumping from the wheel before it could turn fully.

As the bandit walked past Will, he turned to him with a sadistic grin. “Don’t I get a goodbye kiss, handsome?”

“Sure,” Will said with a disarming smile, making the other man stumble for a moment. The next he was stumbling further after Will sucker punched him in the mouth. “How was that? Was it good for you, too?”

The raider in the cart was looking on wide eyed, but you caught him grinning slightly at the exchange, looking away quickly to try and hide it when Will glanced his way.

Jane was laughing as the cart began to disappear into the sunset. Her head thrown back, eyes closed, hand over her stomach type laughter. “Don’t make me laugh! It hurts!”

Will gave a dopey grin as he watched them disappear into the dying light, Jane and the bandit tied to the back of the cart bickering back and forth about nonsense that you couldn’t quite make out at this distance, but you could tell she wasn’t taking any shit.

“She’ll be okay.” You walked up to Will, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I know.” He was distant, his mind a million miles off. “I know.”

Xxx

Tags: @dilf-din @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker @what-the-heckin-heck @telarnidaniela @kalea-bane @morgaussy @enjoythelittlethings @paleidiot @telepathay @carlyreneeinthemoon @competitivedust @ruthyalva96 @brittmb115 @azure-waves @hiddenbabynyc @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @heather1482 @stevie75 @hotzaddypedro

Wanna be tagged if/when I write any future Joel stuff? Here’s how to sign up!

[vodika-vibes]

Our Choice

Summary: After three months of non-stop nightmares, ARC Knight Fordo is exhausted and at the edge of what he can handle. And on the most recent mission to find Count Dooku, Fordo finally finds his peace.

Pairing: ARC Knight!Fordo x F!Reader

Word Count: 4564

Warnings: some angst

A/N: I still can't write action scenes, they always feel awkward to me. Also, this story is based on the tale of Serenity and Endymion, from Sailor Moon.

divider by saradika

The war against Serrano has been going, non-stop, for three months now, and ARC Knight Captain Fordo would be the first person to tell anyone who asked that it was just…going.

The war, however, has spread to other countries now. A large majority of countries have thrown their support behind Mandalore, though some have decided to throw their support behind Serrano. 

It is, in a word, exhausting.

Fordo has been on the front lines since the beginning. He was the one who took his squad and found a path into Serrano for the army. And he was the one who determined the best way to bombard the Palace of Serrano without accidentally killing the Doc.

Fordo lays on his cot, in his private tent (rank has very few privileges, but his own tent is one of them), and he stares at the ceiling. He’s exhausted. Bone deep exhausted.

The bitter chill of Serrano cuts through his armor like it’s not there, and saps his strength whenever he has to fight against the constructs that Serrano uses as their army. Even the tents had to be reinforced as they pushed deeper and deeper into Serrano, as the biting cold ripped through them like they weren’t there.

Fordo sighs and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the way the wind howls outside his tent. A surprise storm has stopped the Mandalorians in their tracks, but it also stopped the construct army as well.

Small victories, he supposes.

Slowly he drifts off to sleep to the sound of the wind wailing outside his tent.

Soft, warm. Gentle fingers in his hair and a kind smile. “You work far too hard, my love,” Everything about her is soft, soft, soft…and he wants nothing more than to keep her safe.

“I want to keep you safe,” His hands brush against her cheek, and laughter slips through pink painted lips, “I need to keep you safe-” he breathes out.

She laughs again, delight crossing her face as she leans in towards him, “Oh, my love,” She whispers, “You have always protected me…and you always will.”

He smiles at her, though the smile fades as the warmth of the room dims. Shadows creep across the ground, and twine around trees. Shadows that kill everything they touch. 

His voice catches in his throat as the shadows slowly coil around her. The shadows slide up her legs, her skin crumbles like dry clay. She doesn’t seem to notice. Her smile never once fades.

He’s thrown away from her, and he watches in horror as the shadows fold around her, and then rip her away. Her scream of anguish echoes in his ears-

Fordo’s eyes snap open, and he immediately rolls to his side as he dry heaves off the side of his cot. His hands are shaking and he’s sweating…not to mention the fact that his heart is racing in his chest like he’s just run a marathon.

The nightmares are getting worse, he notes absently as he rolls back onto his back and tries to settle his racing heart. He presses his arm over his eyes and swallows the bile in his throat.

Fordo has been dreaming about the soft woman since he was a child. And as he’s grown, the dreams have become more and more detailed, though he’s never been able to see the soft woman’s face.

They’ve been a source of comfort for him over the years. No matter how bad things get with his training or his deployments, the soft woman is there, every night, whispering her love to him.

But in the last few months, since the war started, the dreams have twisted. Moving away from the soft warmth of his dreams, into the cold harshness of nightmares.

It’s beginning to become a problem.

How is he meant to fight in a war when he’s not getting enough sleep?

Fordo exhales slowly, feeling his heart rate slow back to normal, and he slowly sits up and swings his legs out of his bed, and he walks over to his foot locker. Sitting on top is a small bottle of little pills.

Medicine to help him sleep without dreams. Prescribed by the Doc when he went to her and admitted that he wasn’t sleeping properly. He opened the bottle and grabbed a single pill.

As much as he loved seeing the soft woman, seeing her die night after night after night was not doing anything wonderful for his mental health. He pops the pill into his mouth and returns to his cot.

No more dreams for tonight, thank you very much.

***********

You gasp for breath as you slide on the ice that covers the road, allowing the ice to lead you under the construct, and then you twist and scramble up the construct’s back and drive your dagger into the control seal on the base of its neck.

It crumbles into a pile of dirt and salt, and you sigh, “We’re clear!” You shout, “Come on!”

A group of children, teenagers, and young adults emerge from broken, burnt out, buildings. The children run to you first, followed closely by the teenagers (many of whom are cradling infants and toddlers in their arms) and then the young adults cover the rear.

“Our safe haven isn’t far,” You say as you place your hand on the head of one of the trembling children, “There’s warm clothes and food waiting. We just need to get there.” You smile reassuringly as you resheath your daggers, and motion for them to follow you.

Almost four months ago now, the country of Serrano instigated a war with the Kingdom of Mandalore when they kidnapped a healer. Three months ago, Mandalore declared a full war on Serrano.

Two and a half months ago Count Dooku arrived in Northpass (a border city high in the mountains that is technically not within the borders of Serrano) and demanded that the people fall in line with him and his beliefs.

And the people in control…the mayor and his council…they agreed.

They instigated a mandatory draft for anyone over the age of 16 and under the age of 35, and anyone who argued with the policy was shoved into a work camp.

According to the new laws of Northpass, you should have ended up in a work camp. You had been the loudest, and most outspoken, dissenter against getting involved in Serrano’s war.

As it happens, nepotism is alive and well in Northpass, which means instead of getting shoved into a work camp, you ended up on house arrest in your uncle’s house. 

Honestly, it would have been better for him if he did send you into a work camp, because there was nothing stopping you from breaking out of the house, and creating your own camp of other dissenters. 

Dissenters who were more than happy to break into the various work camps and rescue the people who were being held there. 

Now, most of the work camps are empty, filled with constructs which are used to create more constructs, and you have your own camp, located in an old mine just outside of the city walls. And there are almost daily skirmishes between the people in your camp, and the people who genuinely support Dooku.

You open a well hidden door in the city wall and move to the side to allow the mass of people through before you, and once you’re sure that there aren’t any stragglers, you slip through yourself, and pull the door shut behind you.

You lead the group through the woods, and then into an old cave. Once inside, you herd the group into a receiving room, where they’re processed by some of the other dissenters, and assigned to different sections of the mine, based on if they have any family in the mines already.

But you don’t have to stay for that. They’re in good hands, and will be safe now, so you take the lift down into the deepest level of the mines, and walk through the dimly lit tunnels, until you reach a massive chamber. 

“Welcome back,” Marios says from where he’s standing over a table and staring at a large map with a furrowed brow, “How was your trip, kid?”

“The southernmost work camp is now empty,” You report, “It was mostly filled with kids and teenagers. They were even holding infants.” You add with a disgusted shake of your head.

“Yeah, I guessed as much.” Marios replies with a sigh, “There’s a massive storm coming from the North, we’re going to lock down the camp until it passes. It looks like the Mandalorian army is stuck in the storm right now.”

You sigh and rub the back of your neck, “Unlucky them.”

“Unlucky us.” Marios corrects, “We only survive this with the help of Mandalore.” He reminds wryly, and then he looks at you, concerned, “You alright?”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” You admit.

“Nightmares?” Marios asks sympathetically, though there’s something probing about his expression.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, go get some rest. I don’t have anything for you right now.” He replies with a fond smile.

“Yeah, maybe I will.” You say easily, turning on your heel and heading back to the lift. You hit the button that brings you up one floor, and then you walk the long twisting path until you reach your room. You move the curtain that acts as your bedroom door, and you activate the lights with a touch of your finger.

You peel off your boots, and change into something more comfortable to sleep in, and then you lay down on the thin mattress that is settled in the corner, and pull your blanket up over your face.

Your exhaustion drags you to sleep before you even realize it.

There’s a chill in the air, brought about by something external, and you rub your arms to try and ward away the chill. 

“You seem troubled, love.” You turn and smile at the tall man lounging on your couch, “What’s wrong…and how can I help?” He asks as he pushes himself to his feet and crosses the room at a sedate pace. 

You turn to face him properly, unable to stop yourself from brushing your fingers against his cheek, “I do not know if you can help,” You admit, and then you shake your head, “My worries will keep, darling.”

He places his hand over yours, and he lazily brings your hand to his lips, and presses a light kiss against your fingers, “I hate to see you so worried,” he admits, a frown crossing his handsome face.

“I am never worried when I’m with you,” You correct with a loving smile as you step closer to him. 

He reaches out for you and then stills as the room dims, something cold creeps across the skin of your hand followed by a burning sensation. You’re roughly jerked away from the cold, and shoved behind your love, and you cast your gaze to your hand.

There’s an angry burn on your hand, and your skin flakes away as the burn spreads.

You hear a cackle, and you peek from around your beloved, and you spy a person standing on your balcony. His smile is red and twisted, and shadows writhe around him, as though he, alone, is holding them at bay.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t hear anything. You hear your beloved say something, though you’re unable to make out the words. 

You hear a high pitched ringing in your ears as the man moves towards you. There’s a blade in his hands, and your love moves as well, flinging himself in front of you and taking the blade through the chest-

You wake with a scream on your lips. A scream you muffle by pressing your face against your pillow. There are tears streaming down your face, and your hand, the one that had been injured in your dream, is pressed against your chest.

You curl yourself up into a ball, as a silent sob rips from your lips. 

Please, you plead silently to whichever deity might be listening, no more dreams.

***************

“Wow, you look like shit.” Alpha-17 notes as he looks over his younger brother, his gaze lingering on the dark circles under his eyes.

Fordo scowls and fling a ball of paper at Alpha’s face, “You look like shit.” He counters hoarsely.

Alpha frowns, “Do you need a day, vod?” He asks, genuinely concerned, “You sound like you’re coming down with something.”

“Just…give me something to do.” Fordo snaps, “Anything.”

Alpha frowns, and holds his arms over his chest, “Vod.”

“The nightmares are getting worse,” Fordo admits, “The medicine your pretty Doc gave me isn't helping anymore…they just keep me from waking up when the nightmare becomes too distressing.”

“Fordo-”

“Don’t. Just…I need something to do to get my mind off the fact that I fucking died last night. Please.” Fordo half pleads with his older brother.

“...alright,” Alpha says slowly, he unfolds his arms and motions to the map, “We’re coming up on Northpass. Dooku fled here after we took his palace, and it looks like he has encouraged the people who live here to help him.”

“So we have to fight our way through a bunch of civvies?” Fordo asks.

“I thought so, but no.” Alpha replied, “We’ve gotten some reports that the city is torn. The majority of young people who live here refused to bow down to Dooku, and so they fled.”

“To where?”

Alpha points at a spot on the map, “Best guess, they’ve holed up in the old mines under the city itself. There’s no entrance in the city proper, the only entrance is over here.”

“So what do you want from me?” Fordo asks.

“Meet up with them, and get whatever information you can.” Alpha orders, “I’m just sending you, I think sending even a squad would cause panic.”

“Alright. I can do that.”

“Fordo. Be careful…you’re not firing on all cylinders, vod.”

Fordo scowls at Alpha, “I’ll be fine. There won’t even be any fighting.”

“I’m just worried about you, vod.” Alpha says quietly.

“Yeah, well…don’t.” Fordo pulls his helmet on and slips out of his brother’s tent, and makes a beeline for the edge of camp. He easily skirts around the city, the massive walls making his sneaking so much easier than it normally would.

And eventually he comes to the clearing that marks the entrance of the mine.

Fordo’s not the least bit surprised when several young men, armed to the teeth, burst out of the mine and cautiously approach him.

“Who are you?” One of the boys demands as he holds his blade in a shaking hand.

Fordo slowly removes his helmet, “My name is Fordo, I’m an ARC Knight from Mandalore. I want to talk to whoever is in charge here.”

The young men share nervous looks, and they all shift uneasily. Not trained soldiers then, Fordo notes. Just young men who are willing to fight for their freedom…he can respect that.

“That would be me,” A slightly older man steps out of the mine. He’s not wearing armor or carrying any weapons, “My name is Marios, and I am…or was…the chief of Northpass Police.”

Fordo turns to regard him thoughtfully, “A police chief isn’t the same as a military commander.” He replies quietly.

“No,” Marios agrees, “It is not. Most of my men are out here with me, though many were injured when we took the first work camp. Follow me, young man. We should talk.”

Fordo follows the slightly older man into the mine, and onto the lift. And he folds his arms as the lift goes down, down, down. Deeper than he expects that the miners would actually dig. “This mine isn’t active anymore, is it?”

“Good eye,” Marios replies as the lift comes to a stop. “The mine has been closed for years, once the uppermost levels were cleared of all ores, that happened before I was born. This lowest part was then used for magic experimentation.”

“Are there wizards living in Northpass?” Fordo asks.

“Oh, not for years now. The last wizard who lived here died when my father was a child.” Marios explains, “But it’s safe, and well insulated, so it’s a good place for us to hole up.”

“Makes sense,” Fordo agrees as he follows Marios to a table in the center of the room, “My main question, Marios, is Dooku still in Northpass? We don’t want to have to fight civvies if we don’t have to.”

“You’re good men,” Marios says with a nod, “I’m afraid I can’t answer that question, but I know someone who can.”

“Can you get him here?” Fordo asks.

“Her, and yes, I can. It’ll just be a moment.”

*************

When you get the call from Marios saying that there’s a Mandalorian soldier in the camp, you can’t help the flutter of nervousness that fills you. You know it’s just a mix of your bone deep exhaustion (the nightmares have been nonstop and they’re always the same-) and your anxiety at the war, so it’s easy enough to push aside.

You step out of your room and walk down to the lift, and you ride it down to the war room. You see Marios first, standing at the table with his arms folded and a strangely unhappy twist to his expression. Strange…he had been so thrilled to hear the Mandalorians were heading your way not that long ago-

And then you see the soldier, and a jolt shoots down your spine.

Tall and broad, with messy hair, and dark skin. And a very familiar face. A face you’ve watched over and over and over again in your dreams. He turns to face you, and you realize that he recognizes you as much as you recognize him.

You can’t help but wonder if it’s as soothing to him as it is to you that someone else has been sharing those dreams. 

You’re vaguely aware that Marios is still talking, but you completely tune him out as you cross the room and stop in front of the soldier. You offer him your hand and your name as you look up at his face.

He takes your hand, almost reverently, “Fordo,” He murmurs in response, before he bows his head and lightly brushes his lips over your knuckles, “You’re even more beautiful than my dreams.” He breathes out.

“I’m glad to see you,” You whisper to him, the rest of the world falling away as you look into his eyes, “I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

“Yeah,” He agrees as his thumb runs over your knuckles, “It’s a bit weird, isn’t it?”

You laugh softly, “Just a little,”

He takes half a step closer, close enough that you can feel the heat from his body even through the armor he’s wearing, and his free hand comes up to lightly brush the backs of his fingers against your cheek, he looks almost awed that he’s able to touch you.

You jump when a hand slams on the table, “NO!” Marios flings the table to the side and his hands curl into fists. “No.” He repeats, “I have worked, tirelessly, to make sure that you never meet up again, in any life.” He snarls.

You stare at Marios, inhaling deeply as his form shimmers and shifts into something else…something familiar.

Fordo curses and draws his blade, and you pull your daggers from their sheaths. “Don’t suppose you have armor, princess?” He asks under his breath.

“Not that I can get to easily,” You reply grimly, “Put your damned helmet back on, Fordo.” You add with a hiss.

He snorts, and pulls his helmet back on in a smooth move, “Try not to get hit, princess. I don’t want you to dissolve away again.”

“Only if you promise not to get stabbed, I’ve had enough of those nightmares for a lifetime.” You counter as you move a little bit away from Fordo.

Marios is shaking in rage, “I’ll just have to kill you both again. Start over a third time. Keep you separated even better. And then I’ll have her all to myself.”

“You’re fucking insane, Marios.” Fordo says sharply as he moves in the opposite direction from you.

“No! She’s mine! You stole her from me!!” Marios screams as he flings a ball of some kind of magic at Fordo, who dodges it effortlessly. “You stole her from me twice! Once in our first life and once now!”

“I’m a person! I cannot be stolen, you creep!” You snap, as you move to attack him, only to have to jump back and do a series of complicated gymnastics to avoid the shadows that he flung at you. And you mentally thank you uncle for insisting on the dance and gymnastic lessons when you were a child.

There’s the sound of metal hitting the ground, and you glance over to Fordo as he strips off one of his vambraces and gauntlets, as it starts dissolving. 

You make it to his side, and are promptly tackled out of the way by Fordo as another magic blast slams into the wall where your head used to be, “We need to do something different,” Fordo says as he shields you with his body.

“Agreed,” You reply quietly. You bite your lower lip in thought, and then you glance up at Fordo, “I have an idea.”

“Let’s hear it.” He grabs your wrist and drags you behind a pillar for some cover.

“We can bury him.” You say quickly.

“I’m going to need some clarification on that, cyare.” Fordo says dryly.

“So this room used to be used for magical experimentation.” You explain quickly, “And while the lift feels like it goes straight down, the truth is that this room isn’t under the rest of the mine. It’s designed to be able to collapse on itself without harming the mine.”

“Okay…so no one using the camp for safety will be harmed.” Fordo murmurs, “How do we collapse it?”

“We need to get to the lift.”

“Done.” Fordo grabs a vial off of his belt and then whips around the pillar and flings it at Marios, who cuts it out of the air, causing a mass of purple smoke to cover him, “Come on.”

You run over to the lift, with Fordo on your heels, and you activate the lift as soon as you’re both on. You watch the console sharply, and as soon as the lift is high enough, a symbol appears at the bottom.

You press it as soon as you’re able, and a series of alarms fill the mine.

“What’s that?” Fordo asks.

“An alarm, so the people in the mine can evacuate. The collapse won’t hurt anyone, but better safe than sorry.” You reply.

The lift keeps going up, and then there’s a loud rumble and then an even louder crashing. And then the lift comes to a stop and you let Fordo lead you out of the mine.

Fordo stops suddenly as soon as he steps outside the mine. There are dozens of children, from infants up to teenagers, and just as many young adults. “This place isn’t safe anymore, is it?” Fordo asks as he pulls his helmet off and turns to look at you.

“No. It isn’t. The mine collapse would have been noted by the people in the city,” You reply as you press yourself closer to his side.

“Fuck.” Fordo rubs his face, “Okay, I’ll get you all to our camp. I want you up front with me, princess.” He says to you, “The kids and teenagers in the middle, with adults around the outside.”

You nod and vanish into the crowd to help everyone get situated, and then you return to Fordo’s side, “This is about as organized as you can get with so many children.” You explain.

“That makes sense. Come on…I have some questions I need to ask you about Northpass and Dooku.”

“Well, I can help with those.” You say with a wide grin.

*****************

“Fordo…what the actual fuck?”

Fordo winces at Alpha’s words, “I didn’t have a choice,” He defends, “Once we collapsed the chamber, I had to evacuate them. They’re mostly just kids.”

Alpha sighs again, “Fine. Fine. You’re right. And the vod’e are thrilled to have kids around. What did your friend say about Dooku?”

“She says that he’s not in Northpass anymore.” Fordo replies, “She’s not sure where, exactly, he went. But she guesses that he returned back to Serrano. Dathomir is on the other side of Northpass, and Mother Talzin holds no affection towards Dooku.”

“So you think we should turn around?” Alpha asks.

“Unless you want to invade Dathomir, yeah.”

Alpha lets out an unamused snort, “Yeah, I’m not doing that. We definitely do not need the witches of Dathomir on our case.” He sighs and rubs his face, “You’re dismissed, vod. Get some rest.”

He quickly salutes Alpha, and then turns and slips out of the tent, and he walks over to his own tent, and he opens the flaps, and then seals it behind himself. 

“Everything alright?” You ask from where you’re sitting on his cot.

“Yeah, we’re going to be turning back from this point. Once we decide what we’re going to do with all of the kids.” Fordo explains as he crosses the room and sits next to you.

“Makes sense. I wouldn’t want Dathomir as an enemy,” You say lightly.

“Yeah, me neither.” Fordo says with a laugh as he starts pulling his armor off, “So…” He says slowly, “What are the odds that Marios is actually dead?”

“Slim to non-existent.” You reply as you turn on the cot and help him unfasten some of his armor, “Hatred like that does die.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Fordo says with a sigh, as he reaches down to pull off his boots, “Do you think he was telling the truth? About the past lives thing?”

“I dunno,” You shrug, “And, I mean, in the long run it doesn’t really matter, I guess.”

Fordo glances at you, “No?”

“I like you. I’ve liked you since I was a child and dreaming about the handsome man taking me on adventures, and keeping me safe.” You smile awkwardly, “So, does it matter what we did in another life, or even if it’s real?”

“You’re saying that the choices we make here and now are more important than the ones we may, or may not have, made in the past.” Fordo says easily.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Huh.” Fordo is quiet for a moment, “Well, I’m choosing you, princess.”

You grin at him, “Well, I’m choosing you too.”

The tent descends into a comfortable silence for a moment, and then Fordo flashes a small grin, “You know. I’ve slept like shit since this war began. You wanna stay the night? I’ll keep your nightmares away…and you can keep mine away.”

“Oh god yes. Please.”

Fordo laughs and nudges you to lay down, and then he lays down next to you and curls his arms tightly around you, burying his face in the side of your neck. 

And, for the first time in months, neither you nor Fordo have a single nightmare…instead the dreams reverting to the soft warmth of the dreams from your childhoods.

[vytels]

Reposting this with grammar and spelling fixed because it was bothering me. For context, this was posted based on an incorrect quote post. The original post is linked here.

Just needed to write a little something based on this that made my brain go wirrr

TW: self-depreciation, thoughts about death/suicide, overall general horrible feelings…. Basically, Fox NOT having a good time… Also, typos, cause I’m writing this at the ass crack of night and I’m supposed to be SLEEPING

Sloshes of cocktails and condensation fell to the floor, beers clinked together in toasts and cheers, but yet, it wasn’t as busy at 79’s as it usually was. Parties of clones crowded together in respected booths, a few stragglers slipping onto the dance floor to get a feel for a pretty lady or man. The music buzzed between them and the lights clung brightly to the walls, unimpeded by bodies or howling voices.

Fox didn’t care for 79’s much anyway. Besides the rapid amount of headaches and groans that it brought him, he found himself seeing it as only a small connection to his brothers on the frontlines. It provided him a face-to-face that holocalls couldn’t achieve, although only once every few months.

“Are your boys treating you well, Rex?” Ponds’ elbow shoved into Fox’s side as the man craned his head forward.

The blond trooper turned to them and a smile appeared at the edge of his lips, his shoulders slumping toward the table as he leaned in. “They weren’t too bad this time around, I think they might be settling down.”

“Don’t jinx it, vod’ika,” Cody warned, “Your men don’t know the meaning of settling. You told me they tried to make a water slide in the docking hangar of the Resolute a month ago.”

“Eh, they’re just bored,” Wolffe said, “the 501st moves around more than anyone else does, they have more time between missions to get stuck in their heads.”

“They do deal with it interestingly then,” Rex grumbled.

Fox couldn’t help but agree, though his eyes lingered across his vod’ika’s form. There was a mirth in the man’s eyes, a fondness in his smile, and a softening in his brows. The Captain cared deeply for his men, for his own vod’ika, despite the trouble they put him through. There was always a story on his mind about Fives and Echo, or a joke that heard from Jesse, or an incident from Hardcase.

There was something there that struck Fox, something that clung deep at his chest, in a way that almost made him gasp. Somehow, it was overwhelming.

“Well,” Fox said, “Have the Terrible Torrents come up with anything more recently to deal with this boredom?”

A smile widened across Rex’s face. “They came up with a game, based on a natborn game.”

“Oh, this ought to be good.” Bly leaned in. “What is it?”

“It’s based on kiss, marry, kill,” Rex explained, “which is a game where you name three people and then choose who you’d kiss, marry, or kill from the three.”

Cody nodded, raising an eyebrow. “How’d they change that then?”

Rex snickered. “They ran out of people they knew until it was only vod that they knew… so you know, they just changed the wording. Turned it into keldabe, vod pile partner, and kill.”

“Not as easy to say,” Ponds muttered with a look of disdain, “But I can’t imagine marrying or kissing a vod.”

Bly gave him a look. “Isn’t a keldabe a kiss?”

“It can be familial and you know it,” Ponds retorted, “You literally shove your forehead against any of ours the moment you get the chance!”

“Guilty,” Bly conceded.

Wolffe hummed. “Well, are we going to play it?”

“I’m interested,” Cody added, “It sounds like fun.”

Rex smirked as his ori’vode turned to him and let them throw him through the rounds of the game, pulling on all vod they knew from across the Galaxy. Putting Neyo against Gree, pushing Thorn against Keeli and Kix, throwing Crys with Waxer and Boil, laughing as he offered up Hardcase, Wrecker, and Fives, and smirking when he mentioned Alpha-17, Colt, and Fordo.

“You know that’s not fair,” Cody said immediately. “All of us would snatch up 17 for a pile partner before the others.”

“Then who are you killing?” Rex challenged. “Colt or Fordo?”

“Colt, at least I’d have a chance at winning.” Bly took a swig of his drink.

Wolffe shook his head. “I bet I could take out Fordo, besides he hates me.”

“That’s because you bit him.”

“So did Fox!”

Fox smirked. “He deserved it. I’m going with Fordo too.”

“You two are horrible.” Cody frowned. “I’ll kill Colt.”

“Agreed,” Ponds said.

“Alright, alright… last one?” Rex asked.

“Hit us with your best shot,” Wolffe growled at him.

Rex looked over them for a moment, thoughts whirling behind his eyes before a smirk covered his face. He leaned closer as he spoke, his voice punctuating the names.

“Me, Wolffe, Fox. The vod’ike.”

“Oh, well, I’m killing Fox.” Bly leaned back immediately.

Fox’s head snapped to his ori’vod, a glare pulling at his eyes but he kept his face level as Ponds snorted next to him.

“I think I have to agree with that,” Ponds said, “But I’m vod piling with Rex.”

“Not me?” Wolffe growled immediately.

But Fox didn’t hear the rest of the argument, not as his eyes slid to the orange-colored commander next to him. Cody stroked his chin, a horrible habit he had gained from his general, and stared toward the ceiling. Gears seemed to come to life in his head as he thought before his hand dropped away and slapped against the table.

Everyone’s heads snapped to him, the argument between Wolffe and Ponds fading to the side as the oldest of their batch smirked.

“I figured it out.” Cody nodded. “Kill Fox, keldabe Wolffe, and vod pile with Rex.”

Despite the sting in his chest, the tightening at the back of his throat, Fox slipped under his mask. A smirk played across his lips and he leaned back against the booth, eyes flickering across all his brothers.

“Yeah, I’d kill me too.” Fox waved a hand, ignoring the churning in his stomach. “I’ll vod pile with you, Wolffe.”

Wolffe smirked, before immediately turning to Ponds. “See? Even Fox wants to vod pile with me!”

The argument between them grew again, but it felt like a buzzing at Fox’s ears as he reached back to grab his drink. He knocked back, trying to get rid of the pain pounding in his ribs and gut, trying to loosen the tightening of his throat.

His batchmates had pointed to kill him off, not even bothering to argue against it in any form. It flipped his stomach, even if it was just a game. A meaningless game, but yet it drove a stake through his heart.

But he understood it too, he really did.

Fox wasn’t like his batchmates. He didn’t fight on the front lines, he didn’t put his life on the line for his brothers staring down a battlefield filled with droids, and he certainly didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve like they did.

But more than that, he didn’t really deserve to be the one receiving a keldabe, or being trusted as a pile partner. He wasn’t as good of a commander as he should be, he didn’t save the lives of his men as much as his batchmates did, and he most certainly couldn’t explain the blood that he’d find on his hands when he woke up in the morning.

His batchmates were good men, and he knew he wasn’t.

It seemed like they knew it too.

The night ended shortly after that. His batchmates huddled together as they wobbled back to the GAR barracks, doing their best to make themselves look like a cohesive group of competent men. And they pulled it off well too, despite the tiredness that dragged at them and the drunken tilts of their vision.

But Fox walked another way, back to the headquarters of the Coruscant Guard, back to his tiny office with a desk overflowing with datapads and flimsiwork.

He sat at his desk, thought of the way his vode had pointed at him, and wondered if the pills stashed in the back of his drawer were worth it.

[trudemaethien]

Muunilist ten between engagements for the WIP game?

So this was intended to be for Fordo week last october but i got too busy and my muse abandoned me. Maybe I will have it done in time for next year!

I love Fordo, and moment in the 2003 show right after CT-43/002 gets killed and he goes berserk with a railgun lives in my head constantly. That kind of unit camaraderie, the loyalties between and closeness of a group of soldiers who did not choose each other but unavoidably live on top of each other, is what I wanted to write about.

The Muunilinst 10 on screen count actually varies between 9-19 and includes distinct classes of troopers (ARCs artillery and infantry) so I was filling out their ranks.

We know Fordo was their highest clone officer, as a Captain, and he had Lieutenant Stec under him. I think Seventeen was there as well, before he worked with Kenobi, before he got hurt and sent back to Kamino to train more ARCs, also a LT. There were I believe a couple more ARCs who I hadn’t filled the slots for.

Able-472 was a callsign for an artilleryman, and of course the casualty, CT-43/002 was infantry. My artist OC fic took place in a temporary Muunilinst 10 barracks, so Walk-Away, Roach, Driver, and Granted were going to make another appearance. Nulls helped train some spec-ops, so I assigned Copyright to Jaing and/or Prudii, even though they are probably not appearing.

And despite the fact that this unit served with a variety of Jedi Generals (Kenobi, Windu, Mundi, Yoda) I wanted to give them a “permanent” Jedi, Jon Antilles.

They routinely face Ventress, Grievous, and Durge.

Despite the focus on battle scenes in the 2003 show, I wanted to focus more on the between times you don’t see, the recovery and readiness, grief and care. The mundane things.

It will hopefully end up a short fic, but I do all this background work of who knows who and what their training is, what action they’ve seen, etc., to try and help it feel more real, have depth.

Just needed some more time to marinate, I guess!

[jonathananubian]

The Power of Names (SWs oneshot)

It was nice to sit with his brother and have a drink without being interrupted for once.

“Seventeen, how’s your General been treating you?” His brother asked as he sat down with a pint of ne’tra gal.

“Kenobi’s been running himself ragged again. Little di’kut is going to get himself killed.” He groused as he took a swig of his own ale.

Fordo chuckled and slapped him on the back once.

Nearby he could hear the younger generations ‘whispering’ to each other about the two of them. It made sense, they were ‘famous’ after all.

It took maybe three minutes before they were approached by a group of CTs, all of them painfully young looking compared to himself and his brother.

“Um, excuse me, Sirs! We have a question if, if it wouldn’t be imposing?”

17 snorted and Fordo gave him a look. “What’s the question?” For someone who was considered one of the biggest badasses in the GAR his tone was soft and even, almost gentle. The exact opposite of 17′s.

The CTs brightened. “How did you get your names, Sirs? It’s just... we don’t have any and we... well we don’t want to be just numbers anymore.” The kid seemed to recognize his mistake when 17 turned to raise a brow at him and quickly backtracked. “N-not that having a number for a name is a bad thing!”

Fordo let out a chuckle and smiled. “Udesii, vod’ike, you’re fine. He just looks intimidating.” He said with that calm smile that always made 17 want to punch him in the face. “My name was a gift from one of my brothers. He’s marched on now, but as long as I have this name to remember him by he will never be forgotten.”

17 hid his frown with another gulp of ale.

The CTs nodded along to Fordo’s words like it was sage wisdom. Young idiots.

“Wh-what about you, Sir?” The CTs turned their collective gazes towards him but only one of them seemed particularly eager for an answer.

Ah, the kid must not have a name yet, or maybe he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of a name. “When the aiwha-bait gave me my ‘Designation’ they decided that was that, that’s all I’d ever be.” His eyes flashed dangerously as a smug grin crossed his face. “So I’m going to take this name, Alpha-17, and I’m going to make sure they know that it’s mine. That even when I die, kicking and screaming and taking the bastards who did it with me, that no one else will ever fit the designation ‘Alpha-17′ again. Because it belongs to me.”

The looks of awe on their faces made him want to grimace. Honestly, they were far too young and untrained for war.

Fordo took over the conversation from there and 17 barely paid it any attention, lost in his own thoughts. Once the CTs were gone he side-eyed his brother.

“A ‘gift from a brother who’s marched on,’ huh? Odd way to refer to the Prime.”

Fordo gave him an amused grin. “But not completely untrue.”

17 couldn’t really deny that, so he didn’t try.

“...you could use the name he gave you, you know. It won’t make you any lesser if you do.” Fordo said quietly.

17 scoffed. “I’m not using anything that bastard left me.” He bristled.

Fordo reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder, a smile crossing his face. “Don’t worry, vod, I know why you don’t. I’ll keep your secret.”

17 was an asshole, that was certainly true. But Fordo knew the truth. He’d loved the Prime just as much, maybe even more since he was one of Jango’s favourites. 

But Names had power, and if 17 sacrificing his name meant that more vode realized that their numbers didn’t have to be a shackle- then he would gladly discard the last gift Jango had given him before his death.

That was just the kind of man he was.

[matchademi]

Lix is looking around the dining hall as he eats alone. After being picked by Prist for training, no one wants to be around him anymore. Understandable in his opinion. He only agreed because Prist threatened to pick Rex if he didn't. Lix already put his old batchmate through enough by not helping him, so he agreed (even though it wasn't a choice) so since then he has been personally trained by the man, it's awful, Priest is cruel and will force Lix to do drill after drill that was never ment for a CC let alone a CT like him. What is even worse is the fight ring, being forced to fight and hurt brothers , Lix has a feeling a few of the injuries that he caused have killed a few brothers but he wouldn't think about that much. Lix watches Rex talk and laugh with squad Shebs. He is happy that Rex found a spot to belong even if it's with a group of CCs with that asshole Fox. Lix hears his data pad ding, so he gets up and throws his tray away before leaving the dining hall. He walks into the training room that Prist usually uses. Looking around, he sees a few new brothers.'I'm sorry,' Lix thinks to himself as Prist walks in. He talks for a while before telling Lix that he is fighting in the ring today. Lix knows he is one of the best. He has survived over 30 fights at this point, so he just nods and wraps up his knuckles before walking to the ring and glancing around to see if he can figure out who his opponent is. Lix narrows his eyes, seeing a kid a few cycles younger than him. "Prist, sir, with all due respect, I have stated before I will not fight someone more than a half cycle younger than me." Lix's voice is firm and not at all faltering as he talks or when Prist glares at him."And why not Cadet?" he spits, glaring down at Lix, who glares back. "Because I'll kill him be barely made it through basic training Sir." Prist growls, "What have I told you before!" Lix knows he is digging his own grave, but he refuses to go against what little morals he has left,"the strong survive and the weak die, but sir, there is nothing honorable about this fight" Lix bearly gets the last word out then he feels a hand grip his throat, he gasps trying to pry Prists hand off him. "Shut the kriff up, you disgusting clone. You know nothing of honor. Your barely sentent, " Lix glares at him as he keeps fighting to move away from the grip on his neck,"you're nothing but a demagolka!"he spits the word he hears some of the other trainers say, and he feels relieved, finally saying what he wants to after a year under this monsters teaching. Lix hears Prist yell in rage before he feels nothing but an agonizing pain in his jaw down down twords his ribs. He wants to scream in pain, but his jaw won't let him even when he feels himself get dropped. "This will teach all of you clones a lesson on if you cross me! "Lixs feels his body start to go numb as he stares at the door of the training room. He thinks he can hear Alpha Seventeen and Captain Fordo talking outside. Lix, who relises that he is not gonna die without a fight, takes as deep of a breath as he can and screams as loud as he can. Lix hears as loud bang and yelling. Lix can see his vision start to get fuzzy as Fordo kneels in front of him. "You did good, Vod'ika we have you know you can sleep you'll be ok" Lixs vision goes black after.

He wakes up in agony he can barely move his mouth without pain. He feels a hand on his arm, and through the pain, he jerks back, trying to see who it is "hey hey Ori'vod it's ok. Lay back down, the fact that you're alive right now is amazing, but you have to relax." Lix looks in the direction of the voice, and he feels surprise well up inside of him."Rex....?" Speaking is agonizing, but he has to make sure it's not the painkillers. "Yes, it's me, Ori'vod. We can talk more when you're allowed to, but I know me getting kicked out of our batch was not because of you. Because he said he would make me run laps till I puke, I'm gonna tell someone you're awake" Rex gets up and Lix wants to pull him back but before he can he looks over and sees the Alpha class that saved him. "Hello Vod'ika, I'm glad you're alive. I am not sure if you fully know who I am. But I'm Captain Fordo, but you can call me Captain or sir, and once you're healed up and allowed to train. I'm gonna be your new trainer." Lix knows things are always gonna be hard for him, but at least be bridged the gaps between him and his brothers again.

Tagging my lovely Ori'vod

@t3mpest98 @sunkissedclones @starrrgazingbunny @homemade-clones

[elthadriel]

Hellooo for the ask meme, can i go with option 001 fordo17 or option 002 with maul?

Fordo17 - 001 | send me a ship and I will tell you:

when I started shipping it if I did: Oh this is 100% your fault. You know what you did. The slightly longer version is my friends were writing compelling stuff and I was helpless to resist.

my thoughts: I just think they're neat.

What makes me happy about them: I think Fordo is very good at forcing Seventeen to take himself less seriously and Seventeen is great entertainment.

What makes me sad about them: Look, I don't think this can end well. Seventeen is loyal to a fault and with O66 looming I don't think they have many good options.

things done in fanfic that annoys me: I have things for both of them independently that annoy me, but it's not like there's an overabundance of content for them. I don't like the alpha class clones being huge and jacked which comes up with Seventeen a fair amount.

things I look for in fanfic: It's existence primarily. Ideally being written by someone I know who has the same characterisation as me.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: There's a Fordo/Rex fic that bounces around in my head still. I don't really ship these two all that much in general though. Fox/Seventeen? Though I think that ends in tragedy too 😂

My happily ever after for them: 😅 I don't know if I have one. I think they're a little trapped by their own convictions. Maybe Fordo can suplex Seventeen and drag him away from the Republic/Empire.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: Fordo is the instigator, but that spooning, flopping on top of, sitting staring like :) until Seventeen spoons him.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: Fordo's favourite is poking Seventeen until he reacts and then sitting back and studying the results. Seventeen's is Fordo not doing that (but also Fordo doing that).

Maul - 002 | Give me a character & I will tell you:

How I feel about this character:

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Obi-Wan, Cody, Rex, and Fordo.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Savage

My unpopular opinion about this character: I don't know if I'm in maul fandom spaces enough to know what is and isn't popular. I don't know if this counts, but I don't think that Savage and Maul were brothers the first time I watched the show. I thought they were using the term brother in a looser sense. As in, they considered themselves brothers, but not by blood. I only realised it was meant to literally related when I joined fandom. I still don't really like that, it always felt very convenient (and contributed to the impression that the GFFA is made up of like 50 people max), so I just kind of ignore it.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I think he should come back to life and be killed again actually. You replace that nonsense "somehow Palpatine has returned" line with "somehow Maul has returned" and be like, that adds up actually (though I did really enjoy his death scene).

my OTP: Obi-Wan 😑

my cross over ship: I don't think I have one

a headcanon fact: If someone explained to him the existence of gay people it would fix like 20% of whatever is going on there. But seriously, I think he has huge trouble with emotional identification and just conflates a lot of strong emotions as rage or hatred because that's pretty much his baseline.

[bylightofdawn]

WIP Sunday

So this is where I decided fuck it, I'm writing the self-indulgent shit I want to so and I'm now interconnecting a bunch of fics. Alpha and Fordo discover Cody is hunting the bounty hunters who they found about in last week's sneak peak. Honestly, at this point I might end up posting most of this over WIP Sundays cause ya girl doesn't know how to keep things succinct.

Standard disclaimer: it's super rough and not edited and liable to be changed before the final fic is posted.

It quickly became apparent these were not poachers. They had none of the big animal traps or accouterments Alpha was used to seeing, and he made a silent hand signal to Fordo, indicating they were going to withdraw when a figure in equally nondescript armor stepped out from behind one of the bioluminescent fungi, which grew thick and prolific in this part of the forest.

The sight of the blaster in the man’s hand immediately put both ARCs on edge, but the unmasked but unmistakably familiar face had both of them pausing. Even with the beard, Alpha would have recognized the distinctive scar that curved along the edge of the clone’s left temple and eye.

“Cody!?” Alpha exclaimed as his jaw agape with shock behind the faceplate of the helmet he wore. It had belonged to a Zabrak bounty-hunter and he picked it since it was so utterly unrecognizable as say a clone helmet.

The clone’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Kark me, is that you, kid?” Fordo asked disbelievingly as well. He and Alpha exchanged a silent look before both reached up to remove their helmets.

It was Cody’s turn to gap at the two of them with disbelief on his face. “Alpha? Fordo? What in sithing hells are you two doing here?”

“Could ask the same of you. vaar'ika.”

“I think we should probably hold this conversation elsewhere.” Fordo pointed out.

Cody looked visibly torn; it was clear he wanted to figure out how the hell two ARCs ended up in the middle of backwater Felucia, but something was clearly riding the man like a demon.

“I need to find someone before these sleemo hunters find him first.”

“The bounty hunters? Who is their target?” Alpha asked a trifle sharply.

Something wary flashed through Cody’s eyes when he looked at his old trainer. He was clearly considering his words before he committed to it but finally a look of resolve settled onto the bearded clone’s face.

“I’m hunting a Jedi.” He finally said neutrally. It might not have sounded too out of character for a clone in the post-Republic hellscape that was the current political climate. But Cody was clearly not indoctrinated because the man would never have approved of the facial hair he was currently rocking if he’d still been in the GAR or the Imperial Army.

“You’re clearly not chipped anymore so why are you hunting Jedi?”

A quiet exhalation of relief escaped Cody and his shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly. “I’m trying to save Quinlan Vos from himself. His former Padawan, General Secura was killed on Felucia. We got word that Bly might have been stationed here.”

“Kark me. Is he planning on hunting Bly down for some revenge?” Something bleak and dark gleamed in Alpha’s eyes.

“I don’t know, vod but that’s why I dropped everything and hurried across the galaxy in hopes of stopping Quin from doing something regrettably stupid,” Cody admitted with a grim, troubled look on his face. “It can’t be good either way.”

“I’m shocked you don’t keep him on a leash if he’s that unpredictable,” Alpha grumbled more to himself and Cody scoffed loudly at the suggestion.

“He and Obi-Wan were best friends, and Obi-Wan was considered the more tame of the two to give you a frame of reference for Quinlan Vos.”

“So somehow, you’ve found a second Jedi to give you gray hairs. I’m starting to think you’re a bit of a masochist, vod.” Alpha stated blandly while ignoring the fact he had more than his fair share of gray hairs courtesy of Shaak Ti and the Jedi younglings he’d all but unofficially adopted.

Judging by the way Fordo coughed, he hadn’t missed the irony of his statement.

“He was Obi-Wan’s best friend. I couldn’t save him, but I might be able to save Quin from himself. Besides, I owe him as well.”

Alpha studied the younger clone’s face with dark, unreadable eyes for a long moment before reaching out to cuff on the shoulder roughly. “We’ll help you then. Fordo, you in?”

[arc-77]

‘✂’ idk maybe post-66? going either way? i'm a simple creachur I see angst I am summoned

Send me ‘✂’ and my muse will kill yours.

He has rarely seen such a picture-perfect opportunity as the one laid before him now. He was about to give the standoff-ish harpy such a hilariously fitting end.

The Golan Arms FC-1 Flechette Launcher attached to the Dark Trooper's left pauldron tracks the winged clone as she flaps, calculating the proper lead. Beneath his visor, Fordo blinks, and the weapon fires. A munition canister flies through the air, exploding at a carefully predetermined distance to shower Kestrel in a cone of incredibly sharp, high-velocity metal darts. The flechettes pierce her armor, tear through her flesh, cleanly sever delicate feathers, and shatter her shin bone with a direct hit. The 'Shriek-Hawk' plummets, landing hard just out of sight.

The Dark Trooper steps through the tall grass, looming over her battered body. Weakly, she curls what is left of her broken wings around herself, instinctually seeking any sort of shield from what is about to come. Fordo kneels, placing his palm against her cheek, wiping the tears from her terror-filled eyes with his metal thumb.

"Hello, Kes."

His was the voice of a clone, unmistakably. She is not given long to process this information before the barrel of a blaster pistol is pressed against her chin.

[vytels]

Just needed to write a little something based off this that made my brain go wirrr

TW: self-depreciation, thoughts about death/suicide, overall general horrible feelings…. Also typos, cause I’m writing this at the ass crack of night and I’m supposed to be SLEEPING

Sloshes of cocktails and condensation fell to the floor, beers clinked together in toasts and cheers, but yet, it wasn’t as busy at 79’s as it usually was. Parties of clones crowded together in respected booths, a few stragglers slipping onto the dance floor to get a feel for a pretty lady or man. The music buzzed between them and the lights clung brightly to the walls, unimpeded by bodies or howling voices.

Fox didn’t care for 79’s much anyway. Besides the rapid amount of headaches and groans that it brought him, he found himself seeing it as only a small connection to his brothers in the frontlines. It provided him a face-to-face that holocalls couldn’t achieve, although only once every few months.

“Are your boys treating you well, Rex?” Ponds’ elbow shoved into Fox’s side as the man kreened his head forward.

The blond trooper turned to them and a smile appeared at the edge of his lips, his shoulders slumping toward the table as he leaned in. “They weren’t too bad this time around, I think they might be settling down.”

“Don’t jinx it, vod’ika,” Cody warned, “Your men don’t know the meaning of settling. You told me they tried to make a water slide in the docking hangar of the resolute a month ago.”

“Eh, they’re just bored,” Wolffe said, “the 501st moves around more than anyone else does, they have more time between missions to get stuck in their heads.”

“They do deal with it interestingly then,” Rex grumbled.

Fox couldn’t help but agree, though his eyes lingered across his vod’ika’s form. There was a mirth in the man’s eyes, a fondness in his smile, and a softening in his brows. The Captain cared deeply for his men, for his own vod’ika, despite the trouble they put him through. There was always a story on his mind about Fives and Echo, or a joke that heard from Jesse, or a incident from Hardcase.

There was something there that struck Fox, something that clung deep at his chest, in a way that almost made him wheeze. Somehow, it was overwhelming.

“Well,” Fox said, “Have the Terrible Torrents come up with anything more recently to deal with this boredom?”

A smile widen across Rex’s face. “They came up with a game, based off a natborn game.”

“Oh, this ought to be good.” Bly leaned in. “What is it?”

“It’s based off kiss, marry, kill,” Rex explained, “which is a game where you name three people and then choose who you’d kiss, marry, or kill from the three.”

Cody nodded, raising an eyebrow. “How’d they change that then?”

Rex snickered. “They ran out of people they knew, until it was only vod that they knew… so you know, they just changed the wording. Turned it into keldabe, vod pile partner, and kill.”

“Not as easy to say,” Ponds muttered with a look of disdain, “But I can’t imagine marrying or kissing a vod.”

Bly gave him a look. “Isn’t a keldabe a kiss?”

“It can be familial and you know it,” Ponds retorted, “You literally shove your forehead against any of ours the moment you get the chance!”

“Guilty,” Bly conceded.

Wolffe hummed. “Well, are we going to play it?”

“I’m interested,” Cody added, “It sounds like fun.”

Rex smirked as his ori’vode turned to him and let them throw him through the rounds of the game, pulling on all vod they knew from across the Galaxy. Putting Neyo against Gree, pushing Thorn against Keeli and Kix, throwing Crys with Waxer and Boil, laughing as he offered up Hardcase, Wrecker, and Fives, and smirking when he mentioned Alpha-17, Colt, and Fordo.

“You know that’s not fair,” Cody said immediately. “All of us would snatch up 17 for a pile partner before the others.”

“Then who are you killing?” Rex challenged. “Colt or Fordo?”

“Colt, at least I’d have a chance at winning.” Bly took a swig of his drink.

Wolffe shook his head. “I bet I could take out Fordo, besides he hates me.”

“That’s because you bit him.”

“So did Fox!”

Fox smirked. “He deserved it. I’m going with Fordo too.”

“You two are horrible.” Cody frowned. “I’ll kill Colt.”

“Agreed,” Ponds said.

“Alright, alright… last one?” Rex asked.

“Hit us with your best shot,” Wolffe growled at him.

Rex looked over them for a moment, thoughts whirling behind his eyes, before a smirk covered his face. He leaned closer as he spoke, his voices punctuating the names.

“Me, Wolffe, Fox. The vod’ike.”

“Oh, well, I’m killing Fox.” Bly leaned back immediately.

Fox’s head snapped to his ori’vod, a glare pulling at his eyes but he kept his face level as Ponds snorted next to him.

“I think I have to agree with that,” Ponds said, “But I’m vod piling with Rex.”

“Not me?” Wolffe growled immediately.

But Fox didn’t hear the rest of the argument, not as his eyes slid to the orange-colored commander next to him. Cody stroked his chin, a horrible habit he had gained from his general, and stared toward the ceiling. Gears seemed to come to life in his head as he thought, before he slapped his hand on the table.

Everyone’s heads snapped to him, the argument between Wolffe and Ponds fading to the side as the oldest of their batch smirked.

“I figured it out.” Cody nodded. “Kill Fox, keldabe Wolffe, and vod pile with Rex.”

Despite the sting in his chest, the tightening at the back of his throat, Fox slipped under his mask. A smirk played across his lips and he leaned back against the booth, eyes flickering across all his brothers.

“Yeah, I’d kill me too.” Fox waved a hand. “I’ll vod pile with you Wolffe.”

Wolffe smirked, before immediately turning to Ponds. “See? Even Fox wants to vod pile with me!”

The argument between the grew again, but it felt like a buzzing at Fox’s ears as he reached back to grab his drink. He knocked back, trying to get rid of the pain pounding in his ribs and gut, trying to loosen the tightening of his throat.

His batchmatches had pointed to kill him off, not even bothering to argue against it in any form. It flipped his stomach, even if it was just a game. A meaningless game, but yet it drove a stake through his heart.

But he understood it too, he really did.

Fox wasn’t like his batchmates. He didn’t fight on the front lines, he didn’t put his life on the line for his brothers staring down a battlefield filled with droids, and he certainly didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve like they did.

But more than that, he didn’t really deserve to be the one receiving a keldabe, or being trusted as a pile partner. He wasn’t as good of a commander as he should be, he didn’t save the lives of his men as much as his batchmates did, and he most certainly couldn’t explain the blood that he’d find on his hands when he woke up in the morning.

His batchmates were good men, and he knew he wasn’t.

It seemed like they knew it too.

The night ended shortly after that. His batchmates huddled together as they wobbled back to the GAR barracks, doing their best to make themselves look like cohesive group of competent men. And they pulled it off well too, despite the tiredness that dragged at them and the drunken tilts of their vision.

But Fox walked another way, back to the headquarters of the Coruscant Guard, back to his tiny office with a desk over flowing with datapads and flimsiwork.

He sat at his desk, thought of the way his vode had pointed at him, and wondered if the pills in stashed in the back of his drawer were worth it.

rex: Okay! Let’s play Kiss Marry Kill! rex: First who would you kill? *bly points at fox* *wolffe points at fox* *cody points at fox* fox: *shrugs* I would kill me too.

[425599167]

Since Barriss is finally getting some content next year, I’m just gonna post a bunch of plot ideas I think would be interesting on the off chance Apollo will once again hit me with the rubber dodgeball of prophecy and one of them will happen.

Barriss teams up with Maul. He’s doing his usual “become my apprentice, angry teenager” thing. She’s constantly on the verge of literally backstabbing him and definitely snuck explosives into the spare parts for his prosthetics.

Barriss works for the Empire quasi-willingly due to gaslighting and occupying her with humanitarian projects to gradually convince her the new fascist government that’s destroying everything she believes in is good, actually.

Barriss is in hiding.

Barriss is in hiding, fails at it, spends rest of the story being hunted by imperial agents and struggling with whether or not she should kill them in the various gruesome ways circumstances offer her. Said agents start out confident as Barriss flees, then become increasingly terrified as they realize the scared teenager they’re hunting has more combat experience than they do and can strangle them with her mind. The plot turns into a mix of Alien and Die Hard except the creature in the air vents picking people off one by one is a neurotic dork with arms that look like bent straws.

Same as previous, except the agents are clone commandos whose control chips Barriss removes. Use it as a chance to bring back Fordo, I liked him.

Barriss joins a rebel cell and conceals her identity.

Barriss becomes a bounty hunter to get by because with the other stuff she stole from Ventress, why not her occupation? Then she starts using the job as an opportunity to “kill” imperial defectors and get paid for it while actually recruiting them. That pipeline could only last so long, but it's a good start.

Barriss builds her own anti-imperial intelligence group and reaches out to the Fulcrum network. Ahsoka doesn't know it's Barriss, Barriss knows it's Ahsoka because she used her fucking forehead marks as a symbol and it's glaringly obvious, but Barriss doesn't know how to bring it up without making things weird and she knows the longer she holds off the worse it’ll get.

Barriss goes against the Empire alone.

Barriss goes against the Empire alone but is aware of the Fulcrum network, then decides to be exactly as stupid as Ahsoka and spray paints sets of black diamonds everywhere she attacks to get attention. Ahsoka notices and isn’t sure how to react.

Any one of these could be great, many of them aren’t even mutually exclusive (5, 7, and 8 naturally build on each other), so Lucasfilm probably isn’t going to do any of them.

[clonecest-bin-account]

300 followers bingo - Alpha-17/Fordo | Pirates AU

(In which Alpha and Fordo duel)

Dodge. Slash. Kick. Dodge again. Parry. By now Alpha has memorized these steps by heart.

It’s like a dance, whenever he and Fordo duel, with the only exception that they’re fucking pirates, and not pansy noblemen who delight themselves in ballroom dances. No, this is completely different.

Alpha doubts ballroom dances are this fun, though of course he’d rather be caught dead than admitting it, especially in front of the person who causes all these annoying feelings inside him, his rival, Captain Fordo, whose legendary fame is second only to Alpha’s.

An annoying thorn at his side is what he is: every time Alpha gets news of a juicy booty that he could steal, he always finds Fordo there for the same prize, and of course the only way they can settle it is with a fight. Nevermind that this is the most fun Alpha’s had in ages, though you’d never be able to guess just by looking at him.

 Today, however, things are a bit different from the usual: today they’re battling for a ship. Well, it’s mostly because of what’s inside - the crown’s jewels - but since it’s a big ship, it would be useful to seize it and add it to the rest of the fleet.

Alpha’s crew isn’t in a great state, but he still feels they can make a comeback, especially if he manages to send Fordo down in the water, meaning that his crew would have to come save him and give them plenty of time to secure the ship and sail away.

He’s even got Fordo right where he wants him, dueling on the ship’s edge. Knowing Fordo’s love for theatrics, he knew he wasn’t going to refuse such an occasion, without think about the fact that Alpha’s way more stable on his feet than him, who tends to jump around more often.

It’ll be easy to push him over the edge, he just needs to get an opening.

 Fordo lunges forward, but Alpha parries, pushing him away.

In all this, Fordo is still keeping that smirk that makes Alpha’s blood boil. He can’t say that this isn’t fun, but at least he doesn’t go flaunting it around and exposing himself in such a manner. C’mon, have a little bit of control, though he supposes that’s too much to ask of Fordo.

“What is it old man? Feeling tired already?” Fordo has the guts to say.

Alpha greets his teeth. “Watch it. You’re not that younger than me.”

“It’s still enough,” Fordo retorts, lounging again, but this time Alpha’s prepared for it, so he dodges and, using the opening dear Fordo has just given him, slashes at his chest, sending the other stumbling a few steps away.

It’s not a deep cut, at least not as deep as Alpha would’ve liked. In fact, what he did is mostly clothing damage, but…

 This is so embarrassing. Alpha should be better than this, and yet…

What’s wrong? Oh, nothing really. It’s just that with that slash, he’s exposed Fordo’s chest even more than it already was, and it is… distracting, to say the least.

Alpha really doesn’t mean to stare at it, but at every movement his gaze always goes down, only for him to realize what he’s doing and raising it again. Damned Fordo and his toned body.

At this point, the duel’s fate seems to be decided, but Alpha still hasn’t realized. Even if he did, though, he would still fight tooth and nail to change things, because he refuses to go down so easily.

If only he could keep his eyes up…

 He doesn’t notice that he’s been backed up against nothing until Fordo pushes him, and Alpha loses his footing, falling backwards into the ocean.

When he reemerges, he sputters water, trying to gather his bearings. It’s only once he looks up and sees Fordo leaning over the rail, his damn stupid smirk on his face, that he realized that he fucked up royally.

Then his men begin to get tossed down, and he knows that there’s no coming back from this battle. They’ve lost.

“That’s for the boat! And the booty!” Fordo yells, laughing at Alpha as he waves him goodbye.

  As he watches Fordo and his band of dumbasses sail away, all Alpha can do is fume right where he is. If gazes could kill, a thunder would’ve already stricken the stolen ship, sinking it and the people on it.

Oh well, you win some you lose some, he supposes, though this knowledge does nothing to soothe the sting of defeat.

What really makes him mad is the way he’s lost. He let himself think with his dick rather than with his head, and he hates himself for it.

More than anything, though, he hates Fordo for stealing such a prominent spot in his mind all for himself, and not leaving when Alpha tries to get himself under control.

 There will be no mercy next time they meet.

Fordo needs to pay and Alpha will make sure he does, torn shirt or not!

[blackkatmagic]

You talking about Fordo and Cody feral fighting style had me thinking... Jango managed to kill 6 Jedi with his bare hands, right? There is clearly a pattern here.

4 or 6 depending on what canon you're going with, but. Yeah. There as absolutely a reason Jango was picked as the clone template, and iirc Cody is one of the closest genetic matches to him in the whole GAR. (Which also just. Puts a new spin on some bits of legends saying that Cody's chip was particularly strong/exerted particularly strong control on him, more so than the other clones.)

[hexsreality]

Wanda stayed silent because she knew that Fordo was right. If they were caught, then they would be punished for their affair. One or both of them would be killed by Darth Vader. She feared losing Fordo as she had back during their time in the Clone Wars. Wanda's fear of losing Fordo drives her further into the Dark Side. She knew she should heed Fordo's warning about not giving in to temptation, but it had been a long time since they had been in a position like this.

Fordo gliding his hands down Wanda's back didn't help either, which gave her goosebumps. In response, Wanda wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him even closer, with her ankles locking just behind him. They always gave into the temptation and the lust before when the war was well underway. Now, every minor move they made was closely monitored by the Sith. How Wanda missed the simpler times compared to now when everyone tried to undermine her at every turn. It was why she was in the arms of an old flame, some comfort and familiarity. And, it would appear, the feeling was mutual because Fordo made no attempts to release her.

"Then let me go, you can push me off." She said with a shrug of her shoulders while her hands traveled up his chest this time, her arms wrapped around his neck. "However, if you choose this, I want you to remove your helmet." She leaned her head forward, pressing the side of her face against the side of Fordo's helmet. "And I want you to make love to me," Wanda whispered softly in a sweet tone to further tempt him to give in to his desires as he almost had his self-control not reeled him back in.

☽◯☾┄─ @arc-77 || ᶠᵒʳᵈᵒ (ᶜᵒⁿᵗ.)

"—I never wanted this." He fires back, voice filled with frustration. How could she still not understand? This was so far out of either of their controls, and she had the nerve to blame him? "We had no choice! They would have made you kill me if they found out about us, used it to further your descent. If you refused, they would have killed you too."

She's— she wants it, too. She's feeding off of his energy and thoughts, just like she always has. He had slipped up, left his mind unguarded, and now she knew. The way she whispers his name ensnares him like a spell, and he struggles against the binds and the memories.

"We... can't. Shouldn't. They'd sense it between us. We could never be in the same room again. It'd be the death of us."

His mind knows better and his lips convey this, but his hand betrays him, sliding down her back, tracing her silhouette. Damn to hell whoever was responsible for designing her form-fitting Inquisitor uniform, it made her look more deadly and powerful than ever before. She was right. He'd wanted to tear it off of her for ages, to grab ahold of those devilish horns on her tiara and—

"Do not tempt me." Fordo manages to will himself out of her trance, if just for a moment, but he still does not pull away. "This is a mistake."

[crispyjenkins]

fic with ahsoka as Obi-Wans Padawan? Maybe some angsty jangobi? (Used to be together but broke up and now they pine from afar™️)

(i’m devastated that i don’t get to write ahsoka much, especially as obi’s padawan, so that an anon would come into my inbox.... and request jangobi on top of it..... seriously, though, thank you! can’t say i wasn’t inspired by @autumnchild22’s Kenobi Tano AU, but this doesn’t share almost anything with their take of events (ノ*´◡`) i’m flattered y’all thought i could do something of theirs justice lmao

i have written entirely too much backstory for this one, i think my brainstorming ended up longer than the actual fic so like. rip. 

support artists and writers by reblogging, message me for more info if this confuses you!)

  It surprises everyone except Obi-Wan that not only does Jango join the clones on the front lines, but he does so as the ARC troopers’ medic. That the son of the Mand’alor murdered by the Jedi would allow his kid to be apprenticed by a lifetime Council member is already hard enough for the galaxy at large to swallow; believing that the man who had at once been the most feared bounty hunter in the Outer Rim wouldn’t even ask for a command position? Impossible.

  Obi-Wan knows better. Just as Obi-Wan had picked up Soresu because he could not protect his master on Naboo, Jango had learned to put people back together because he could not save his buir on Korda 6. 

  Besides, Obi-Wan thinks Mace is a wonderful match for little Boba, even though he’s joining the Jedi older than even Anakin had been. Knowing Mace was among the Jedi to liberate the spice freighter Jango had been sold to, and that he had continued to check in on Jango for years after he got his armor back, Obi-Wan actually finds it rather silly that others on the Council had thought Jango would trust Boba to anyone else. 

  Which does leave Obi-Wan in quite the predicament, when less than a year after Anakin's knighting, Mace sends him a new padawan in the middle of a campaign. 

  Ahsoka smiles with all canines, and calls Anakin Skyguy, and has to be tricked into wearing more armor because, according to Cody, she is "not to take the General's lack of self-preservation as the status quo, nor as the basis for field safety." Which, rude, Obi-Wan wears plenty of armor when the situation calls for it; he simply doesn't find many situations where plasteel has kept his men or the Jedi from dying horribly.

  Letting Ahsoka gallivant around a battlefield in a tube-top without even a cloak, however, is out of the question, and Obi-Wan thinks Waxer does a brilliant job in sizing down the armor to fit their collective padawan over the next few months. Force, had Anakin really been younger than she when he first started taking him on missions?

  "Master?"

  Obi-Wan blinks, and smiles down at Ahsoka standing next to him, his apprentice looking quite dashing in the orange paint of the 212th. "Sorry, my dear, what were you saying?"

  She shrugs, eyeing him suspiciously. "'Was just asking if we would be working with the ARC troopers on Kiros; Captain Fordo said he would show me how to use a blaster rifle next time they were on the Negotiator."

  The Kaminoans intended for a few ARC troopers to be sent with each battalion, but it had quickly become clear that Jango had not trained them that way. Instead, he had raised and created a strike team so efficient, it would have been a waste to separate them; Obi-Wan knows Jango had hand-picked them from cadets, had searched for a spark in them that the Kaminoans hadn't already snuffed out completely. Jango had been like that once, too.

  "I would be surprised if we didn't," Obi-Wan decides on, turning back to observe the 212th loading into the Negotiator, and he would be, because the ARCs are often deployed with Obi-Wan’s men, have been since the Battle of Kamino. "But I have not heard anything from Master Shaak Ti, nor Captain Fordo as of yet."

  Ahsoka scrunches up her face into a pout, an amusing show of her age that she usually does not allow. "We'll probably get halfway through the mission and they'll just show up."

  Obi-Wan chuckles. “Hm, yes, probably,” he agrees, starting to make his way down to the hangar to join his men with Ahsoka trotting along behind, “but perhaps I can convince Captain Fordo not to surprise us too badly this time.”

-

  When the ARC troopers finally storm the Kadavo Processing Facility with Anakin and the Jedi on their heels, the warden Agruss is already dead.

  The sudden swell of Jedi presence is nearly blinding after a month of helplessness, but Obi-Wan can't tap out, not yet. Rex, satisfied and vindictive and relieved, sways dangerously and automatically reaches out to Obi-Wan to steady himself. 

  That Rex trusts him enough to not even think about rank before asking for help warms Obi-Wan in ways he doesn't yet have the words for — he wraps Rex's arm around his shoulders and takes half his weight happily.

  "Thank you," Obi-Wan finds himself murmuring as he helps Rex towards the doors, and only smiles at the captain's bemused expression. 

  "Whatever for, General?" he asks, even as he looks back over their shoulders across the room, to Agruss impaled to his chair with the electrostaff still sparking. Then he returns Obi-Wan’s smile, shaking his head. "That's not very Jedi-like of you, sir."

  "I'm afraid I haven't felt much a Jedi since Kiros, my dear." Which is perhaps too honest to allow himself before he's had a proper meal and a full night's rest, but if there is anyone who will understand, it is the man that lived it with him. "We could wait up here for Anakin to find us, but it will likely be a while before they can spare him to start looking; do you think you can keep your feet long enough for us to reach the ground floor?"

  Rex snorts and gives a vague wave of his free hand towards the elevators. "Well, I'm certainly not going to wait up here like some damsel, sir, and General Skywalker would kill me if I let you wander around on your own."

  "Well!" Obi-Wan laughs, for the first time in weeks, and hitches Rex up to get a better grip on his waist. "In that case, we really should not keep him waiting."

  They somehow time it perfectly for what the 187th and the 501st to have just finished rounding up the slavers in the courtyard when he and Rex hobble out of a side door of the warden's tower. Lieutenant Law oversees the Togrutas' move to Mace’s flagship Solace, and Obi-Wan easily picks him and Boba out from the crowd, standing at the base of the loading ramp and speaking with the Kiros colony's governor. Anakin is nowhere to be seen, but Obi-Wan doesn't get the chance to keep looking before Kix spots them from his place by the medical frigate; a shout passes over the nearby clones like a wave, until Kix and an ARC trooper break away to (gently) manhandle both him and Rex to the frigate. 

  The 187th's medic, Oro, is already on board seeing to the Togrutas too injured to wait for triage on the Solace, snapping a distracted salute that Obi-Wan quickly waves off as he helps heft Rex onto a hoverbed. He fully intends to duck back out and check in with Mace, though things seem well in hand without him, but the ARC with Kix takes off his helmet and glares, until Obi-Wan meekly shuffles to the next hoverbed over.

  He could never refuse Jango, after all. 

  "You repainted your armor," he says conversationally, as Jango pulls a scanner from the bandoleer around his chest and has Obi-Wan roll up his right sleeve. 

  "'Lost the last set to a sarlacc before our deployment to Kiros," Jango snorts, Concord Dawn accent stronger than any of his clones. "Though it looks like your mission had its fair share of excitement." Running the scanner over the electrical burns on Obi-Wan’s arm, Jango raises an eyebrow at the dried blood on the shoulder of his tunics; Obi-Wan honestly doesn't remember if it's his or not.

  And he can only smile at Jango, because even with a decade and a war between them, the corner of Jango's mouth still twitches when he's stressed. "Well, it certainly wasn't boring, my dear," Obi-Wan says, opening the neck of his tunic enough for Jango to stick him with a hypospray that hopefully won't make him too high. "And I can't say I'm looking forward to what is surely going to be a long dip in the bacta tank."

  He gets a laugh for that, and can't think of the last time they had done more than make eye contact from opposite sides of a ship. Perhaps it had been Kamino, when Taun We had first sent for the Jedi to meet the army created for them. 

  Obi-Wan had rather thought Jango dead until then, when he had disappeared from the galaxy abruptly as if he had never lived in it at all. For a time, Obi-Wan believed he had just gotten cold feet, that finally meeting Anakin made it all a little too personal too quickly, but then even Mace could not get a hold of him and no one had seen a Mandalorian bounty hunter in months.

  Their... conversation, Jango's stilted explanations of his absence and of how little he actually knew about the purpose for the clones he helped create, left far too much unsaid, but then Obi-Wan had been sent to Geonosis and, well. It's been nearly two years now, and Obi-Wan isn't sure if he's even seen Jango without his helmet since then. 

  His eyes flick over Obi-Wan’s face, the left side of his lips twitching as if knowing exactly what Obi-Wan is thinking — and he might not put it past him. 

  "Where are Anakin and Ahsoka?" Obi-Wan hears himself ask, when the silence grows heavy with those unsaid words. And he really would like to check in with his padawan, he can't imagine her last month has been a picnic either.

  Jango sticks him with another stim before answering, "Mace sent Skywalker to make sure no slave is missed, and no slaver isn't arrested. As for your new foundling..." That little smile comes back, as Jango nods out the back of the frigate to where someone is cutting a line through the clones guarding their new prisoners. 

  "Oh dear," Obi-Wan mumbles, barely having time to brace himself before Ahsoka is launching herself at him, and all he can think is how relieved he is to see her out of her slave disguise. Jango steps cleanly out of the way to let Ahsoka smother herself in Obi-Wan’s chest, though it doesn’t stop him from starting to prep bacta patches to tide him over until they can get to the Negotiator’s medbay.

  “Hello, little one,” Obi-Wan murmurs, carefully loosening the tight net of his shields for the first time since Zygerria and letting Ahsoka’s presence flood his mind. 

  “It’s good to see you, Master ‘Nobi,” she says into his tunics, and her voice does not waver at all.

  He manages a chuckle, though it does not hold nearly as well as Ahsoka’s, as he feels himself finally relax. Anakin, of course, senses the both of them immediately and prods at their minds, but neither Obi-Wan nor his padawan acknowledge him. “I take it the Queen is dead?”

  Ahsoka sighs and pulls back enough to nod. “Count Dooku was there, Skyguy barely got us all out.”

  “That was a week ago,” Jango adds, not looking up from the datapad he’s logging Obi-Wan’s injuries into. “Even with the Queen giving us the location of the Processing Facility, we had to wait for the 187th to catch up.”

  Running his palm from the top of her head down her hind lek, Ahsoka melts back against him with a Togruta churr he rarely has the pleasure of hearing from her. “Hm, and I imagine Boba was thrilled to work with the ARC troopers.”

  Jango snorts, because they both know Boba is thirteen and his rebellious stage where he wants nothing to do with his father for fear of losing his independence. “Originally, the 104th was the closest battalion, but were held up in their own campaign. ‘Honestly didn’t think we could keep Skywalker from rushing in anyways.”

  And Obi-Wan has to wince at that, because no matter what he does, he can’t seem to find a way to teach Anakin about attachment in words he understands; truthfully, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have had him knighted until he had at least attempted to master that part of his mind, but, well, the War had different opinions.

  “I’m actually just surprised he didn’t try to fight Dooku,” Ahsoka admits, finally releasing Obi-Wan only to hop up on the hoverbed next to him. Jango immediately pulls Obi-Wan’s bare arm back to himself to start slapping the bacta patches over the worst of his burns. “Master Windu had a talk with him, though, I think it was good for him.”

  “I’d like to see that!” Jango barks, only half sarcastically: he knows better than most, the sorts of things Mace Windu can talk someone out of, and if it worked for one ex-slave, why shouldn’t it work on another?

  Ah, perhaps that shared history should not have slipped Obi-Wan’s mind, not here with thousands of freed slaves needing aid for injuries Jango is intimately familiar with.

  “And are you alright?” he asks before he can talk himself out of it, as Jango is cutting his sleeve further back. His brow ticks back up, clearly bewildered by what Obi-Wan could be referring to, but it’s Ahsoka that leans around Obi-Wan to sniff triumphantly up at Jango.

  “I told you he still likes you,” she says, and Jango’s hand freezes on Obi-Wan’s wrist.

  Obi-Wan sighs. “Ahsoka.”

  But instead of denying that he might have actually had such a conversation with Obi-Wan’s padawan, Jango coughs on a laugh. “So you did, edee. To be fair, I did not think that was the issue.”

  Ahsoka rolls her eyes, leaning back into Obi-Wan’s side as he automatically raises his arm to accommodate her. “He thinks he lost his chance, Master ‘Nobi,” she tells him. “Even Cody thinks he’s full of banthashit.”

  Where Obi-Wan feels a little shell-shocked by the turn in conversation, Jango simply keeps that tiny smile — even if it looks bittersweet and self-deprecating now. “Your foundling has spent the last week talking me in circles about this, I almost think she’s as stubborn as you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, I think,” Obi-Wan returns, sarcasm an automatic, subconscious response. 

  “I wouldn’t need to talk you in circles if you two just talked to each other.”

  Shaking his head in bemusement, Obi-Wan gently fixes Ahsoka’s slika beads to lay properly around her montrals. “I’m afraid there’s quite a lot of history there, little one; most of which I’m sure Jango did not actually share with you.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “No, he refuses to tell me anything except that you met on a mission. And that he saved your ass from Jabba the Hutt.”

  Obi-Wan snaps his eyes to Jango, who looks absolutely anywhere but at him. “Is that how you remember it going, my dear?”

  “Could we do this later?”

  “Because if I recall correctly, and I do, this is not the first time you’ve lost your armor to a sarlacc.”

  Jango looks to the ceiling for patience. 

-

Mando'a: buir — “parent”, gender neutral  Mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore. edee — “teeth”, “jaws”, used here as an affectionate name for Ahsoka. because she teeth.