#worse part is this is like my THIRD attempt bc i kept trying shortcuts but they looked bad blrgh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

capricornus-rex · 5 years ago

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Perseverance Over Pride (2 - End)

Requested by: @stellar-trinity | Prompt:

Hey Hon! I was wondering if you could do a request? No rush on this one :) I will say this one is a bit personal bc I tend to do this A LOT 😅 Cal comforting the reader after being hard on herself? Maybe the reader was working on Cal’s saber, ends up breaking it more (unintentionally) and once everyone is asleep, she locks herself in her own room and cries? Thanks hon! 🥺💖

Tags: Self-doubting! Reader

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Oh no… No, no… NO! Your mind, anxious and panicked, screamed. You wanted to let the words out but you can’t because it’ll alarm the crew.

You covered your mouth with your entire hand, bottling up all of the emotions that’s thrashing and storming inside your core right now.

“No… That’s impossible! What went wrong?!” you gasped, the weapon shook in your trembling hand.

You set it down on the workbench again. You don’t know what to do first: tear it apart again and redo everything or mentally assess what steps you could’ve possibly mixed up. Though, to save your pride, you didn’t do the latter.

You were back to where you started—taking it apart piece by piece, except with the newly-replaced parts this time. You examined and inspected every single component that you’ve detached from the very structure of the saber and looked for possible errors.

Blinded by confusion, you can’t seem to find what’s wrong. Everything seemed to be in place. You can’t pinpoint what you may have overlooked. You repeated everything you did—and perhaps adjusting a little bit of the parts in each step—and then tested the ignition again.

The result remained the same: a short-lived flicker of the blade.

You couldn’t control yourself when you flung your fist to the workbench, hoping nobody from outside heard that—which they obviously did—you jerked your hand away and rubbed the sore part; all of a sudden, your heart felt heavy, your stomach churned, and your breathing was shaky and rapid.

“What’s the matter with me?”

Trying to relax even felt tedious. The doubt in your conscience was beginning to chew its way into you, but your fought it off along with the words that were gradually forming in your mind—the words that you dread to hear, even if it was just in your imagination.

Nothing.

There was no concentration, no calmness… nothing.

Your mind was in a total disarray.

“This is bad,” you muttered fearfully.

You examined the disassembled lightsaber again, thought long and hard as you stared at it, and then wagered which of the new parts must be replaced to better, functioning ones. The next places that could possibly have some components are the Imperial station near the weathered monument and the ice caves. Asking Greez to take the Mantis to Coruscant is the farthest stretch of an option, so you put that as the last resort—even if the Jedi Temple has the best selection of parts, albeit abandoned.

“It’s highly likely graverobbers have looted the temple though,” you assessed.

Afraid to show your face, and scared to be incapable of answering Cal’s questions about his lightsaber, you couldn’t dare to step out of the room—though you badly need to if you want to get your components. You took a deep breath as if preparing yourself to speed through a row of Auger pulverizers, you rehearsed your general response if ever Cal asks, and coached yourself to keep your eyes on the door.

“Okay, just waltz out. Don’t maintain eye contact, eyes on the door. Just say you’re going out to get more parts, and that’s it. Simple.”

The line became your mantra in the next three minutes. Afterwards, you pulled yourself together and followed your mantra physically to a tee.

“I’m going out again, just need more parts,”

You practically ate your words as you briskly walked past Cal sitting on the couch with Cere in the middle of a hallikset lesson. The two Jedi followed you with their eyes until you disappeared out of the ship. Cal was able to sense something from you, it was faint yet noticeable; he contemplated whether to bring it up to you or wait and see if it would worsen or subside.

You gave the shed on the edge of the landing pad a try, but it turned out to be a disappointment when it was just crates of the same materials as the ones in the derelict hangar; and so off you go to where you needed to be.

You take the shortcut at the turbine facility leading out to the ice slide before the weathered monument. You surprisingly mowed down the dispatched unit of Stormtroopers just on the other side of that blaster door.

“Okay, gotta get to that station fast,” you tell yourself.

You’ve reached your destination: the Imperial command center with a landing platform. You had hoped that with a station this big, you hoped you’d find something worth of all this short trip.

You took every Stormtrooper stationed there singlehandedly by surprise; banking their shots right back at them until all that remains is the black R2 unit strolling across the metal halls.

Now that you’re in the clear, you scoured all of the supply crates that you can find, taking apart the control panels and power terminals for possible substitutes, and even harvesting the parts of a Stormtrooper’s blaster and a Scout Trooper’s staff. By sheer luck, the staff ran on a diatium power cell and prayed that this could be your key to actually fixing the saber.

When you got back, you came in with such a burst that the crew just watched you speed past them. Understandably so, you were too indulged in getting that lightsaber fixed—but they don’t know that you’re protecting your ugly secret of busting it a second time after the Jotaz did.

Cal walked in on you and found you on your second attempt.

“[y/n]?”

You jumped, startled by the softest call of your name.

“You startled me right there!” you gasped, clutching on your chest while sucking in air.

“Oh sorry, I figured you didn’t hear me the first time so I went closer. Sorry…”

“It’s okay,” you tried to hide the saber by blocking his view of it with your back. “Look, it’s not ready yet. I thought I finished it but turns out I had to do it again. I… I’m still fitting the power cells underneath the sleeve of the second saber.”

“Look, I’m more worried about you than the saber itself. Could you please do me a favor and don’t stress out on this? Like I said: don’t rush on this.”

“I’m sorry, I… I suppose I just got a bit worked up. Won’t rest until the job’s done—force of habit.”

He raised his lips to your forehead.

“Well, there’s no need to be worked up, okay?”

You nodded and replied in a hushed tone. He dismissed himself, saying Cere owes him another hour of hallikset lessons, and then walked out of the bedroom, leaving you again with his busted saber and in your solitude.

More hours have passed, at this point in time, your confidence has deteriorated. While the power-related parts—namely the diatium power cell, conductor, power vortex ring, and inert power insulator—were finally replaced with the whole, new ones supplied by your inventory and the ones you’ve picked up, it appeared that they weren’t the answers to your question.

You repeated again, tweaking some of the parts that you assumed could have gone wrong.

The same feeling that you had on the first attempt return—only this time, it was five times worse on the third and fourth tries. You wished that you knew what the problem was.

“No… NO!” you growled, pounding the edge of the worktable out of frustration. The force of your outburst was so strong that you managed to make the thin pipe railings creak.

The crew kept it quiet between one another whenever they would hear one of your outbursts: the grunts, startled cries, and groans of frustration. An hour later, you were still stuck in the loop of trying to figure out the mistake. Cal decided to pull you away from that spiraling mess you’ve gotten into.

“[y/n]…?” he called as he knocked. “Dinner’s ready. Are you coming?”

“N-No, Cal… I… I’m not hungry,” you spoke to him through the sealed door, your voice is muffled but still coherent. “I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Sorry, Cal. Please, I just want some time alone to finish this,”

“Alright then. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Oh… okay. Thanks, Cal…”

Cal appeared out of the small annex to join the crew at the dinner table. Cere started to get worried when he appeared without you.

“Where’s [y/n]?”

He repeated your reason to everyone as he took his seat. There was awkward air that somehow exuded the empty chair next to Cal—where you usually sit.

Cal left some food for you and personally put them away on his own after dinner. Cere watched him prepare your serving in case you finally decide to come out of the room and eat, as he sealed off the food container, she confronted him gently.

“Cal, is [y/n] okay? She’s been acting… unusual lately. She’s been locked up in your room for hours now and missed dinner. The last time we saw her outside that room is when she came to scavenge for spare parts.”

“Something’s off about her ever since the last time she went out. She didn’t even open the door to talk to me, she just spoke through the door. I didn’t think that she’d put that much pressure on herself to repair my lightsaber… but now I do.”

“Go talk to her. I am absolutely sure she needs it,” Cere clapped him on the shoulder before retreating to the cockpit.

While they were eating, you have already gone through your fifth attempt. You’ve given up in the middle of the sixth try and ended up sitting on the floor, hugging your knees, and just succumb to crying. When Cal got close enough, he could hear you weeping in the room and that further confirmed his presumption about you.

He knocked on the door again, calling your name.

“Come on, I saved you some dinner,” he coaxed. “Greez made your favorite.”

“Please just… go away, Cal…” you replied.

Cal noticed the change of tone in your voice and the sniffles.

“No, I won’t,”

The two of you conversed with a sealed blast door in the middle. You wanted it that way because you didn’t want him to see the teary-eyed mess that you are and his still-busted lightsaber.

“Look, I couldn’t fix your lightsaber; I could have broken it but not on purpose—you should be hating me right now!”

“I don’t hate you,” he coolly said. “I could never hate you.”

There was no response from your end at the door, you buried your face in your knees in shame, letting tears pool on your pant legs in the process. He decided to open the door via the control keypad on his side. When the door whizzed open, he saw you curled up on the floor by the workbench; you didn’t look to him when he got in.

“Oh, [y/n]…” he purred, sitting on the floor and then taking you into his arms.

“I’m sorry, I thought I could do it…!” you sobbed. “I didn’t mean to break it, honest. I really wanted to fix it but I just couldn’t… I thought I could!”

He shushed. He rested his cheek over your head after kissing your forehead. “Please don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m not mad, I promise.”

“I was too afraid to ask help from you…” you hiccupped. “I was afraid you’d think of me as incompetent.”

“Aww, no,” he cooed. “Baby, no—I’d never think of you as something like that! What made you think that?”

“Cal, look at me: I’m a Jedi who can’t fix a lightsaber! I’m the perfect definition of that word. What else would I call myself if I’m incapable of rebuilding the most vital part of a Jedi?”

He cradled your head to his chest and allowed you to let it all out whether through tears or lashing out.

“You know, back in Dathomir—when I was opening the door to the Tomb of Kujet—I got myself into a Force vision,”

You listened, prompting him to continue with soft grunts.

“Master Tapal was standing there in front of me. When he saw that I didn’t fight back, he said something to me,”

“What was that?” you asked, your voice has calmed down and the sobbing hiccups have gotten lesser.

“He told me that persistence reveals the path. And you know what I’ve gotten from that?”

You look up at him to find sincere eyes staring back lovingly at you and a small yet reassuring smile. The word “What?” was a mere blow of air between your lips when you urged him to continue.

“When failure hasn’t deterred you from trying again and again, no matter how many times,” he spoke as he stroked your hair. “You’ll find your answer at the end of the path sooner than you think.”

“But I’m afraid. I’m afraid to fail… like I always have been, secretly.”

“But have you really given up?”

Your eyes wandered blankly into space, pondering on his question as well as your own answer—the true answer. Your eyebrows furrowed as you somberly reflected upon it. In response, you shake your head. You promptly stood up from the floor, Cal followed and stood by your side; you let him watch you work and to his surprise, you’ve picked up a soldering iron you found back in the Imperial command center.

From time to time, he would help out in certain parts of rebuilding it—handing out the parts and components that you need, giving you an extra hand when needing to hold something really still until you’ve perfectly fitted it into place as well as helping with a few of the trickier steps in the procedure.

The last part of fixing it was refitting the blade energy chamber—the narrow tube that bridges the kyber crystal and the emitter—and when you presume everything is finally done, Cal let you do the honors of meditating once more on the lightsaber.

“Go on,” he coaxed. “Relax and concentrate.”

“Okay…”

It may not be yours, indeed, but your connection with Cal—that you have unconsciously overlooked and shut out this whole time—was soothing the whole time up until this very moment. For a moment, that anxiety that was flooding your entire being was gone and all you could think of was thoughts that signify tranquility: the waterfalls, the sunrise at Bogano, the empty abode, and even an image of Cal himself.

Click…

Your heart skipped a beat when you hear that tiniest of sounds. You fought off the hesitation of opening your eyes. In face value, the lightsaber looked normal. You stared blankly at it, not even realizing that your hand was gravitating to it; once again, your fingers clamped around the handle and lifted it up from the workbench placemat. You shoot a look at Cal.

“Together?”

He placed his hand over your hand, his thumb over yours on the switch.

“Together.”

He squeezed on your thumb downwards, subsequently doubling onto the pressure applied on the switch button. A sharp buzz snarled out of the polished hilt. Cal removed his hand from the hilt and stood back, while examining the beam of light that shone in the room. You exchanged glances with him, you swallowed the nervous lump in your throat, and your heart was pounding that you couldn’t catch up with your breathing. Steadily, you waved the weapon around the small space where you stood.

More than ten seconds have passed and the blade of light didn’t die out. Your official sixth attempt finally was a success!

You exhaled laughingly. Finally! You thought. We did it!

You looked over the blade and found Cal smiling with a sense of pride in you. You pressed the switch again and the blade retracted back into the emitter to set it down on the workbench. You hopped toward Cal and—in an uncontrollable urge—threw yourself in his arms.

“We did it!” you beamed, relieved and happy.

“But you did most of the work, I only helped on the sidelines,”

“Don’t be silly. Well… I was silly myself,” you shrugged. “I guess I had too much pride earlier. Thanks, Cal, you’ve helped me a whole lot—more than enough, in fact.”

You yawned and rubbed your eyes, apologizing thereafter.

“It’s okay, sweetie, rest as much as you need. I’ll be here,” Cal planted another kiss on your head as he cradled you like a baby, trapping you in an embrace as your puffy eyes felt heavy. He continued to stroke your hair until you drifted off to sleep. “I’ll always be here. I promise.”

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