hurt

sorry if this repeats idk if the first one went through lol. can we see some more sensitivetorejecton? how does their mission go? (hopefully fluffy)😃

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Coughing harshly as awareness hit Qui-Gon like a ton of painful bricks, the Jedi blinked heavily as the sounds of crying and yelling sounded, his head throbbing as he tried to remember what in the world had happened.

His last memory had been…

“Obi-Wan… Obi-Wan.” He rasped, reaching out through their bond for his padawan as he struggled to sit up, pushing wood and duracrete off himself as he sat up, groaning in pain.

They had been walking down the street among the crowd of beings, their mission done, they were suppose to go home and then Obi-Wan had paused and looked around with confusion.

The boy must have felt something or noticed something with his hyperfocus, something Qui-Gon had not noticed, because a moment later, panic had crossed his face and he had opened his mouth.

It had been too late though.

The world had promptly exploded into a million pieces, wood and duracrete of the shops around them flying and something had hit Qui-Gon hard, sending him into the real of unconsciousness.

Struggling up on his knees, Qui-Gon looked around, barely recognizing the street from before, debris everywhere along with fire.

The shop Obi-Wan had paused in front of was fully gone, a crater left behind where it had once been.

The sight was enough for Qui-Gon to understand the gist of it.

The shop had exploded, whatever it had been and now there were injured and dead people all around the damaged shops.

And Obi-Wan was no where in sight, his padawan was unconscious and Qui-Gon had to find him.

Shaking as he struggled to his feet, Qui-Gon wrapped one arm around his ribs while scanning the area. He knew where he had last seen Obi-Wan, but if the force of the explosion had sent hi-wait, that boot…

Qui-Gon struggled towards what looked like half a wall, a familiar pair of boots sticking out from under it, stumbling over debris as people hurried around him, everyone trying to help and find others.

“Obi-Wan!” He rasped out as loudly as he could, kneeling down at the wall.

With a bit of Force as his ribes were strained already, Qui-Gon managed to push it up and away, finding his padawan laying still and pale beneath it, breathing shallowly with a thin stream of blood coming from his nose.

Cursing quietly, Qui-Gon reached out and started gingerly touching Obi-Wan’s neck, carefully testing it before breathing out in relief as he pulled the boy into a recovery position. ‘At least he hasn’t damaged his neck.’ Qui-Gon thought grimly, pausing when Obi-Wan’s little dice fell out of a damaged belt pouch.

Picking it up, Qui-Gon placed the stimming tool into his own belt pouch, knowing his padawan would want it back once he was conscious.

“Alright, hold on imp, just hold on.” Qui-Gon whispered, doing what he could as he looked around, hoping the medics and local law enforcement would come soon. His large hand rested on Obi-Wan’s forehead as Qui-Gon struggled to breath, his damaged ribs requiring him to take shallow breaths.

‘One hell of an end to a first mission.’ He couldn’t help but muse darkly to himself, blinking blood out of his eyes, likely steaming from a cut up in his hairline.

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(I accidentally deleted the prompt)

aniseandspearmint asked:

Oh! I forgot, I wanted to ask, since you mentioned Alpha-17 in this, what does he think about this? He didn’t think much of the jedi, but he grew to respect and care for Obi-wan. Has he been told what the senate has been doing to the jedi? Did he have a heavy flashback to events like Fox did? Times when in hindsight it’s clear what had been done to Obi-wan and or Anakin, but he didn’t have the context to realize what had happened?

Raising his head slowly from his pad, Rex stared at Dogma, feeling an icy cold calmness settle in over his nerves. The meeting room was quiet, everyone stilling at Dogma’s musing and even more when Rex attention was caught.

Dogma looked like he regretted saying anything, clenching the pad in his own hands where he had been looking over his portion of the feeds Fox had sent over.  

“…Would you repeat that again trooper?” Rex stated calmly, feeling calm but from the way Dogma paled, some of the murderous intent hidden under it all must be leaking out.

Shifting in his seat, glancing around at the mix of 212th and 501st that were involved in figuring out who had General Kenobi last night, Dogma opened his mouth, closed it then squared his shoulder. “I-It was just ideal musing really sir but, well, a lot of the commanders… they look like the Generals…” He repeated, stammering a bit as he started nervously rubbing at the edge of his tattoo near the lip.

Rex continued staring at him, his gaze burning.  

Licking his lips, Dogma shifted. “I mean, there’s Commander Grey’s General and Commander, they look alike,” Depa Billaba and Caleb Dume. “That little Initiate that looks like General Ti in the temple,” Rex knew who he was talking about, little thing with a blue saber. “And Commander Iron’s little commander looks like…” Dogma trailed off, looking even more nervous now.

Cal Kestie’s, commander of the 13th battalion.

Little commander Kestie with red hair, pale skin and freckles.

Rex felt the pad crack in his hands, the screen warping along the break as heavy realization sunk in and he faintly realized Longshot was suddenly slamming his fist into the wall.

Cal Kestie looked like Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“That’s… just the ones at the top of my head,” Dogma continued, warily glancing at Longshot where the trooper was now pressing his head to the wall. “I bet if we looked at records, we’d find out other older Generals look like many of those that are now and if we really looked at the little ones in the temple…” He trailed off and then shrugged awkwardly.

He didn’t really need to say more.

Not when everyone knew what he was implying and was likely right about.

This was not what Rex had been expecting when Cody left with the General, eyes asking them to find out who the hell hurt Obi-Wan. He had been expecting to be gnashing his teeth and glaring at cams as he tried to follow the Jedi through the halls and figure out which karking monster had him.

Now he was stuck thinking about all the little Jedi younglings who looked like older Generals, now he was stuck thinking about the commanders he had seen that looked like their masters or grandmasters.

Now he was stuck thinking about how the rest of the galaxy had a hard on for said younglings and how much that must hurt the older ones. And how the older Jedi were victims of the damn Senate, the governing body of the inner core, because face it, outer core didn’t get effected by core politics.

He’d seen enough to know that.

Putting down his damaged pad, Rex buried his face in his hands and let out a deep breath.

Then he forced himself to take five breaths in through his nose and out of his mouth, just like Ordo had taught him.

It made him wonder about the Alpha and the Null clones.

He had heard from the Kamino guards that when Alpah-17 learned what was going on with the Jedi, he had apparently shot Senator Burtoni point blank.

He wasn’t… quite sure what that was about.

It was a terrible risk to shoot a longneck on Kamino, the chances of hiding it from the rest of them were low, especially such a high prolific member as Senator Burtoni had become. So that left the question of why Alpah had shot her.

He knew it couldn’t be pure rage but as far as Rex knew, the longnecks didn’t have sexuality in the same way as most species in the galaxy and relied more on cloning for their generations, the impact of cloning and ‘bettering’ their genetics for survival doing something to their libido or that’s what Kix had said.

So it wasn’t related to the Jedi being unable to say n-Rex paused before lifting his head, thinking furiously.

No didn’t have to mean only sexual consent, no could mean… other things.

No to examinations, no to invasive study, no to…  

Force, the fox hole just kept getting deeper and deeper and Rex decided that he would have to contact Alpha, because speculating like this was only hurting his head.

‘Fucking longnecks. Fucking Senate. Fucking Ruusan Reformation.’

“I heard your new padawan is not likely to make it. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am Anakin.”“Where did you hear that?”“Chancellor Palpatine mentioned it when I met with him earlier today.” Anakin looked past Padme to where Fox was standing and signing that the conversation had occurred.Anakin knew then that Palpatine had something to do with Obi-Wan’s poisoning.Sightless Bird

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The last place he wanted to be in this moment was in the karking Rotunda and the only reason he had left Obi-Wan’s side at all was because Rex had promised to sit with him. So here Anakin was, marching through the Rotunda, his cloak billowing up around him dramatically.

If Qui-Gon could see him at that moment, he would have rolled his eyes and fondly called him a drama prince.

Or maybe he would have been stomping along with Anakin.

The other had been calling daily until the comm signal had become too unstable, hearing about what health Obi-Wan was in.

All because he had been directly summoned by the War Commission to speak about the last campaign he had been out on with Obi-Wan. Something about someone having caught Obi-Wan on holocam, running around with the bomb over his head.

‘Not like they cared before that there were padawan’s out there.’ He thought grouchily.

A part of him knew that it was Obi-Wan’s disability that made them suddenly interested, a blind Jedi running around doing impossible feats.

‘If even one of them calls my padawan ‘broken’, I swear, I will ram my mechano han-’

“Knight Skywalker!” A familiar and unwanted voice called out and Anakin grit his teeth as he came to a still, turning around slowly to face his own wife with a bow. “Senator Amidala.” He murmured, noting with some surprise that Commander Fox and another Coruscant Guard was following her.

Force, she was beautiful, wearing a golden dress with white details, no jewelry on her but her hair set up in a beautiful crowning braid.

Yet he wished she hadn’t intercepted him, for all her beauty.

Lately their conversations had been too strained, too much happening with Ahsoka and the war and a part of Anakin recognized that their relationship hadn’t been healthy even before that. That they strained to talk, to be honest, to give each other what they needed.

With a new padawan…

Well, Obi-Wan was his priority, like Ahsoka should have been from the moment she was his padawan.

It was putting a large strain on their relationship, Padme recognizing that Anakin no longer trusted her, no longer talked to her and Anakin recognizing that she hadn’t done so from the start.

Padme smiled at him, a bit nervous but still as pretty as an angel. Anakin’s heart gave a complicated throb as he peered back at her, tucking his hands into his robe sleeves to hide how they were shaking.

“Apologies for interrupting you Knight Skywalker but I…” She hesitated then took a deep breath, her face turning sad. “I heard your new padawan is not likely to make it. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am Anakin.” Padme stated softly, biting at her lips.

Startling, his eyes widening slightly before his lips pursed, Anakin couldn’t help but glare at his wife. “Where did you hear that?” He asked harshly.

It took her by surprise clearly, the slight woman jerking to as she stared up at him. “Chancellor Palpatine mentioned it when I met with him earlier today.” Anakin looked past Padme to where Fox was standing and signing that the conversation had occurred.

Obi-Wan’s condition was not a widespread rumor, that he was sick, sure, but not how badly of he had been or that it had almost claimed his life.

That the healers had managed to save him had been a little miracle on its own when they had identified the poison as one with very few cures, a snake from Korriban of all places.

Yet no one had known how severe it was outside of the Order or the troopers, the information having been put on ice to be able to trace it to the potential culprits.

For the Chancellor to know how severe it was, for him to be able to claim that Obi-Wan wouldn’t make it with such certainty spoke of knowing what poison his little padawan was slipped…

Anakin knew then that Palpatine had something to do with Obi-Wan’s poisoning.

There was no other way the other could be so sure of Obi-Wan’s death and the Chancellor could have no idea that there was a poison expert in the Halls of Healing, one who had been on duty when Obi-Wan was brought in.

He couldn’t have known that Kix would have been able to keep Obi-Wan stable just long enough to get him to the temple.

Couldn’t have known that Obi-Wan’s body would fight the poison when put into a medical coma.

Didn’t know that Obi-Wan would survive.

The Chancellor was involved in the poisoning of a Jedi padawan, Anakin’s padawan.

A lightbulb popped overhead, sparking as Anakin fought to control his rage, Padme clearly reading his face as she frowned in worry and reached out to him.

Anakin stepped back. “My padawan… is in a coma. Thank you for your concern Senator Amidala.” He bit out, desperate not to give out anymore information, not where there were ears that could hear, not when Obi-Wan had barely survived.

Not when the Chancellor could try again if he knew Obi-Wan was still weak.

He turned on his heel and left Padme behind with Fox, fuming as he headed down the a side hall he knew was a shortcut, several bulbs popping overhead as he fought with his own wrath and concern.

*flails incoherently about Dangerous Galaxy* oh man oh man, that is AMAZING. Cody is FURIOUS. And Longshot, Rex, and Helix are too. Someone’s gonna die for thiiiiiis.How hurt IS Obi-wan? Like, he took a few good hits to the face, and there’s clearly damage from the sexual assault, but what else is he hiding? The way he’s moving and acting it was worse than usual (or what passed for usual in a situation like this) and what ever techniques he usually uses to get through aren’t enough now. Seems like the creep that got to him took out a lot of rage? Bet they blamed Obi-wan for some business that’s going south because of the war or something like that…

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Feeling his mouth drop open in shock, Cody stared at Helix for a long moment, struggling before he finally spat out a response. “What?” He rasped.

Grimacing, Helix glanced to the medbed, their comatose General deep breath seemingly giving him strength. “Cock and ball torture, from what I treated, that’s my assumption on what happened, with the swelling and the… the marks.” Helix repeated, stuttering slightly as he grimaced with disgust.

Running his hand over his face, Cody opened his mouth then closed it again, feeling like he had been hit.

Fractured left leg, anal tears, bruising and swelling over his face, rubbed raw wrists and ankles and now this.

When Helix informed him that whoever had their Jedi had used little to no lube and certainly had not stretched him, he thought that was the worst but this was so much more worse.

‘Sadism.’ His mind pointed out, rather unnecessarily.

Cody knew there were people who enjoyed sadomasochism, hell there were people of the other inclination too even, who enjoyed pain and with consent and proper care, sure, that was fine. He didn’t want to know the details but hell, what happened in someone else life with consent was their thing.

But Obi-Wan’s consent…

He swallowed thickly, feeling sick and let out a noise when Helix guided him to sit down on the other bed beside Obi-Wan’s. The grip of the medic’s hands on his shoulder was grounding and Cody forced himself to breath.

He was now grateful that Obi-Wan was in a drugged sleep, Helix having offered it when Obi-Wan curled uncertainly into the crisp bed, glancing around the empty medbay after treatment in a privacy room, Cody holding his hand on the other side of a curtain.

Normally, the medbay would have been full of the other medics and COM’S, brushing up on their skills or helping troopers that had issues that were more chronic, but the medbay of the barracks had been empty when they arrived.

Cody suspected that the news of Obi-Wan arriving had made the entire barracks around and that, as a sign of respect and for the Jedi’s comfort, any unfamiliar medics had cleared out, which seemed to be all of them and supported Cody’s theory that Helix had been sleeping, the 212th medics off duty.

So, for now, the other medics had cleared out.

Just for as long as the Jedi was in house and in need of healing.

Looking to Obi-Wan, Cody let out a deep breath as he stared at the still swollen face of the man as Helix carefully withdrew to check on Obi-Wan. He knew that it would take a few hours before the swelling and bruising would disappear even with treatment but Cody…

The Jedi didn’t deserve this.

The clones didn’t deserve it.

Fox had quietly informed him that a few of the Senators had gotten rough with a few of the shinies on the Guard, so now that was something to be on guard for too. “…One month.” He murmured, Helix pausing in his checks to look at Cody.

The two stared at each other before Helix glanced down at their Jedi, his face tightening before he nodded. “Yes, Vod’alor.” He murmured, his lips twitching with amusement at Cody’s grimace.

A few of the battalions had taken to calling him that lately, vod’alor, as if the title meant anything.

‘Ah, but Mand’alor meant nothing until people were made to respect it, no?’ A voice suspiciously like Alpha-17 barked in his head.

Ugh, he wasn’t dealing with this tonight of all nights and he was almost relieved when his comm rang.

Raising it, Cody felt himself freeze as he took in the number.

Kark, it was Skywalker and Cody glanced quickly to Obi-Wan before answering the comm.

Instantly a frazzled Anakin appeared, Ahsoka peeking around his elbow with wide, worried eyes. “Commander, is Obi-Wan with you?” The blond instantly asked, shifting nervously before looking down at Ahsoka. “He was suppose to… Ahsoka and he had a duel set up on the sky roof but… maybe he forgot it and is with you?”

The Jedi sounded so painfully young that for a moment Cody forgot that technically he was older than Cody. His heart lodged in his throat as he stared at the man, then he glanced to the side again, looking at Obi-Wan’s healing face.

“…I’m sorry sir, but the General was at the Rotunda. He’s here in the barracks now.” Cody stated, tone grim and he closed his eyes when Ahsoka covered her mouth and ducked behind Anakin’s back.

That answered his question on if the commanders knew exactly what was going on.

Anakin’s face fell. “But… he didn’t come home.” The man stated slowly before furrowing his brows.

Then he closed his eyes tightly as realization hit him.

The only reason Obi-Wan wouldn’t return home was if he was injured, if he didn’t want to show his face. “He’s in the medbay, isn’t he?” Anakin whispered.

Unhappily, Cody nodded. “Yes sir. I’m sorry sir.” He whispered, knowing how useless those words were and yet needing to say them.

Anakin said nothing, only ran his hand over his face, shiny nails on display for Cody to see and remember he had an ally in the Senate. “I… just look after him. If he’s not coming here, it means he doesn’t want me to see how he looks. Dex has his diner closed down, he normally goes there when things get… when things are rough.” The blond stated haltingly.

The diner?

Well, the besalisk was friendly, they knew that.

But it was still an odd choice… until Cody realized that Obi-Wan didn’t trust anyone else not to spread gossip and was trying to avoid the temple and in particular Anakin, seeing him in such a state.

So instead of asking questions, he nodded. “Helix has him covered. I’ll stay too,” He promised when Anakin opened his mouth. “I’ll be on the bed beside him, waiting until tomorrow.” He promised the other man.

Anakin shifted before nodding. “Thank you commander. I’ll… see you both tomorrow then.” He whispered, sounding drained and small before he hung up.

Cody stared at his comm link then sighed deeply.

One month.

Just one month.

They’d have to accelerate their plans.

Glancing at Obi-Wan’s face, staring at the bruises and dark marks, taking in the gauze wrapped around wrists, Cody steeled his determination.

One month and the Senate burned.

What happens next in Dangerous Galaxy??? How does Cody react to a crying Obi-Wan showing up at his door??

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When the door opened, Cody thought nothing of it as he lifted his cup to his mouth and looked up, figuring it was just one of the 212th or 501st coming to see them and report. He ended up regretting it though as Longshot and Obi-Wan appeared in the doorway, the former with his arm around the latter.

But it was the appearance of his Jedi that sent Cody’s caff into the wrong pipe, his eyes watering as he hacked and choked despite jumping to his feet, the cup clattering to the floor as he forced his body to obey while making his way over. “General.” He gasped out, both from the shock and his impromptu coughing fit.

Obi-Wan looked a mess, his lip and face was swollen and bruising, his clothes was a rumpled mess and he had not missed that Obi-Wan was limping or the fact that Obi-Wan was leaning on Longshot arm.

And he was trembling.

For all the relief Obi-Wan’s eyes had, and concern at the coughing fit, he was trembling faintly, like a skittish, frightened tooka.

“Co-Cody, are you alright?” The man questioned and Cody had the hysterical urge to laugh as he instead reached out and cupped Obi-Wan’s cheek, hearing Rex quietly comm Helix behind him.

Obi-Wan flinched under the touch. “I think I should be the one asking that sir.” Cody breathed out, staring at the other.

He hadn’t known the other was ordered to the Senate.

He had heard from Ponds what had happened to his General, had known that Mace Windu had been to the Rotunda but no one had said…

No one had seen Obi-Wan at the Rotunda, he thought the other was sleeping in the temple for ka’ra’s sake!

‘But he was in the Rotunda. Someone hurt him. Someone hurt my General.’ Cody swallowed thickly and opened his mouth to apologize, only for Obi-Wan to beat him to the punch as he folded himself down, his aura that usually filled rooms to make him seem so much larger than life to every trooper seemingly disappearing as he dropped himself to Cody’s shoulder with his hands finding the plastoid chest piece to hold onto.

Their General, a cliff in the face of misery and pain, finally broke for the waves as a sob escaped the man, clinging to Cody with the fragility of a newborn skrill pup and Cody felt his heart break, the shattered pieces digging its way around his chest.

From the look on Longshot’s face, he wasn’t the only one as Cody carefully reached up and wrapped his arms around the other man, feeling how he was pressing his face to Cody’s armor.

It must hurt, a faint part of Cody pointed out that Obi-Wan’s face was swollen, beaten for sure and the skin must be tender but Obi-Wan couldn’t seem to get enough of pressing closer to Cody as the commander hugged him, murmuring nonsensical but hopefully comforting words into the Jedi’s hair.

There was a commotion further down the hall, and on instinct, Cody drew Obi-Wan further into the room, rocking slowly in what felt like a useless motion but hoped was helping.

Proved to be a good decision as Helix suddenly arrived, his blacks hastily done up and a medpack in his hands, his hair wild and his eyes wide. If Cody was to take a guess,  the other had either been sleeping or had been having some fun.

Didn’t matter now.

When the CMO’s of the 212th eyes fell on Obi-Wan pressed to Cody’s shoulder, his eyes widened, narrowing and then a cool professionalism entered them in seconds as he took a deep breath.

They all knew how Obi-Wan was, treating him different wouldn’t help.

No, it would make things worse and Helix was doing his best it seemed.

Longshot touched the medic’s shoulder and Cody watched as the vod quickly tied the others hair into the familiar bun the medic wore his hair in with a piece of string from his belt pouch, Helix giving a grateful nod before he approached and gently touched Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Just as when Cody touched him minutes earlier, Obi-Wan flinched and reluctantly lifted reddened eyes to meet Helix, the medic’s expression wobbling before settling on a gentle expression. “Look’s like you could use a helping hand sir,” He murmured, lifting the first aid pack into view. Something told Cody it wouldn’t be enough. “Would you be willing to come to the medbay?” Helix realized it too.

But was willing to leave the decision in Obi-Wan’s hands.

After the night he had, Obi-Wan needed to be able to make choices and the troopers would make adjustment as needed.

Thankfully, Obi-Wan, after letting out a hiccuping cough, nodded slowly. “Y-Yes Helix, I…” Obi-Wan glanced nervously at Cody.

Settling his hand on the Jedi’s shoulder, feeling a flinch in the other despite Cody telegraphing his movements. “I’ll come with if you want.” Cody stated softly, smiling sadly when Obi-Wan desperately latched onto his arm.

As if to reassure himself that Cody would indeed come.

Shifting closer, Cody raised his arm so the other could lean on it instead, murmuring softly as they started walking through the suspiciously empty white hall, Helix leading them to the medbay.

He gave Rex and Longshot a burning glance over his shoulder, a silent order that both nodded grimly to.

Find out who had the General and find out now.

Because Cody’s priority was right here and now, with Obi-Wan as the other limped slowly at his side, Cody resisting the urge to bridal carry his Jedi and wrap him protectively away.

The Senate was going to burn.

Sweet Princess- a clone comes to court? Does Din know where Boba came from?

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Today was shaping up to be a bad day all over.

Din had finally been released from the medbay, sleeping in their room curled into Boba’s body for comfort while Boba latched almost desperately onto the other man, spending a long time awake simply watching Din in their bed, sleeping peacefully in Boba’s arms as his bruise mottled body relaxed.

However, his fever had spiked that morning and had woken both of them with a nightmare, Din babbling apologies as he sobbed brokenly, his hand curled between the two.

Russal had warned them that this could happen, Din’s kidnapping stint in a tiny cell that was alternatively hot then cold depending on day or night without anything to cover him along with blood loss, pain and no water or food leading to Din’s body to now coping with the trauma.

The fever and chills were almost guaranteed and Boba would have been surprised if Din didn’t have a nightmare or two after what had happened.

He took note that Din often clung to his collar, his good fingers wrapped around the ring of it, as if the reassuring weight was needed to remind him where he was as he pressed into Boba’s body.

Tacked onto that, Leia Organa had arrived on Tatooine, thankfully sans Han Solo as Boba wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold himself back from killing the laserbrain if he showed up.

However she had also brought clones with her as guards and Boba didn’t want Din to see them. A frightened part of Boba was worried about Din comparing them, finding Boba lacking in some manner.

Yet there was nothing he could do about that.

He wasn’t willing to leave Din alone in the bedroom, not in his current state after nightmares and fever and Leia Organa was not a woman you left to wait.

Which was why he greeted her in the throne room with Din sleeping against his shoulder, his sweetheart wearing Boba’s robe once more as Boba wanted the other more covered up than the pretty lingerie outfits he normally wore as Boba’s Princess.

Honestly, Din really should have his own but the other seemed to prefer to steal Boba’s clothes when he could.

It was why Boba kept more than one robe and a few extra shirts and tunics, just so Din could raid his closet at times.

The sight of a sleeping, almost bare man in a collar on Boba’s lap had not impressed Organa and the clones behind her was watching too with uneasy eyes, despite not talking. Neither of the two aging clones were impressed with what they were seeing obviously and Boba was almost certain that one of them were Captain Rex.

Not that he cared.

None were as little impressed as Organa though, the woman’s voice rising and Boba got it, he really did.

She had once been chained to this very dais as Jabba’s pet but by the first light, he wanted to jab her in the throat to shut her up, his own anger rising to match her spiteful words as he struggled not to wake Din.

All in vain as Organa’s voice finally rose loud enough to shake sand off the ceiling as she eyed some of the mottled bruises on Din’s legs and the bandage around his knee with disgust, the clone Boba thought was Rex reaching out to try and reel her in, the former princess reaching for the blaster on her belt, the situation rapidly deteriorating as Boba’s guards were going for theirs.

But her voice had finally woken Din, his fever doing what torture could not as he gave a small, frightened cry and jerked to in Boba’s lap like a skittish tooka, breaking the tension of the room.

Instantly Boba’s focus turned, his arms coming up protectively to prevent Din from falling from his lap. “Mesh’la, verd’ika, calm down, gedet’ye.” Boba murmured quickly, shifting one hand up to Din’s upper back, holding him in place while his other captured Din’s formerly injured hand, cradling it to his chest.

Shuddering, looking around shakily, glancing over at the stunned trio in front of the dais, Din swallowed thickly. “W-What’s going on?” He rasped quietly, blinking the grit out of his eyes, licking his dry lips.

“Organa came to see me, to… negotiate.” Boba stated quietly, his voice still pitching through the throne room but everyone that had spent more than a day in the court knew better than to interrupt when Boba was speaking with Din.

The trio in front was still too surprised at Boba’s behavior to make more fuss, the likely Rex clone hand on Organa’s shoulder.

Din let out a low noise, shifting slightly in the others lap. “Organa… the hutt slayer?” He questioned, glancing towards her when Organa let out a surprised noise.

Snorting quietly but nodding as he cradled Din’s hand to his chest still, Boba removed his other arm from around his lover to bite at the fingertip of his glove, removing it.

He spat it out into Din’s lap and reached up to the others forehead, hissing quietly as he pressed his hand to the others forehead, a dark frown on his face. “Your fever is just as bad as it was in the morning. You should be in bed.” Boba murmured disapprovingly, bare hand stroking over Din’s hair and settling on the back of his neck.

Shuffling, pressing into the others neck, Din whined. “Don’t want to be alone.” He rasped out.

Sighing faintly, Boba cuddled the other more to his chest. “Yeah, see, that’s why you’re here,” Boba agreed quietly, shooting Organa a brief, angry glance before focusing back on his lover. “Just a bit more and we can go back to our room,” He stated in a promising voice, smiling faintly when Din let out a soft, relieved noise that turned into a hum when Boba lifted Din’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the pinkie and ring finger. “Just a little longer Princess.” He promised quietly.

“What is…” Organa paused, lips pursed, eyes glancing between Din and Boba.

Snorting, Boba cradled Din to his chest. “Princess got abducted a few days ago, he only recently left the medical bay with permission of our medic.” He drawled, feeling Din shift to glance at the New Republic Senator and clones.

At the mention, Russal waved nervously from over at the bar where he he had been speaking with Cobb, Boba nodding in return to him even as he took note of the Marshal’s hand on his blaster still.

Organa’s brows furrowed, glancing between the medic and Din’s bandaged and bruised legs.

“I however don’t like leaving him alone, he’s sick and prone to nightmares at the moment,” Boba continued and felt Din press back into his neck, a humiliated little whine coming from the other and Boba smoothed his gloved hand over the others spine in apology as he continued staring at Organa. “Nevertheless, you arrived in a nifty star destroyer and demanded my presence, on my planet and seeing as who your brother is along with that death craft, I’d rather not risk bringing a Jetti down on my palace even if you only brought two guards with you down.” He sneered at Organa.

In his lap, Din tensed slightly at the mention of Luke and Boba continued rubbing at the others back while cradling the hand, feeling the ring and pinkie finger twitch slightly in his grasp as Din hand fisted.

Any mention of Luke always had Din slightly on edge, mostly since he knew that Boba didn’t actually approve of the man. But Boba knew better and left sleeping dogs lay, as long as Luke karking Skywalker behaved and taught Din’s adiik properly, Boba would keep his comments to himself.

Organa however could go eat a fist if she upset Din one more time. Din needed rest, not being scared awake.

At the moment she looked like she had eaten a lemon, her pretty face puckered up into a thoughtful scrowl as the two stared at each other, King of Tatooine and former Princess of Alderaan. A silent battle of wills that only broke when she glanced once more at Din, taking in the sweat gathering on Din’s dark skin along with the faint trembles bringing her empathy to the surface. “…Is there accommodation close to the palace?” She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest, indicating that she would not be accepting any rooms Boba offered her in the palace.

Not that he wanted to house her after she freaked Din out.

Grunting, Boba tilted his head to look to the bar. “Rive, the inn is fully operational in town, right?” He questioned one of his lieutenants.

The armored, blue skinned twi’lek let out a soft hum and nodded, ignoring Organa wholly as she only gave her attention to her boss. It shouldn’t amuse Boba, the show of pettiness that could make negotiation harder but honestly, every time one of his former slave turned captains or lieutenants decided they didn’t like someone for how they spoke to Boba or Din, it made the cold concave of his heart flutter with delight.

They had been there long enough to know that Din’s power over Boba stretched far beyond what a common ‘slave’ had and knew that Din knelt willingly at his feet. “Yes sir. La-Vulpa had it up and running last week. Far as I know, he has at least ten beds for outsiders and I don’t think there’s more than five at the moment down in the town.” Riva stated calmly.

Turning his head to look at Organa, Boba raised a brow, gnarled scar tissue pulling at the move.

She nodded harshly in return. “Then we’ll continue this tomorrow.”

A concession, small one but it meant Din and Boba could retreat, could rest.

Shifting his arms around the other man, Din letting out a questioning noise only to squeak and throw his arms around the others neck for support when Boba stood with Din in a princess carry. “Tomorrow then. Riva,” He turned back to his lieutenant. “Contact me if there’s any issues or if Shand returns, otherwise, we’re not to be disturbed.” Riva’s armored lekku’s twitched, scraping against her pauldrons before she raised a fist and tapped her chestplate twice, bowing her head in respect.

“Of course sir, enjoy the rest of your day,” Her eyes flickered to Din. “Speedy recovery Princess, court isn’t the same without you here.” Din looked up at that, blinking at Riva before smiling weakly, settling his head back into Boba’s neck.

‘Rest, yes, rest would be good.’ Boba made his way around the throne, ignoring the two clones staring after him and Din even as Organa was already moving for the stairs.

Maybe he and Din could take a second bath, try and sweat the fever out and not just for cleaning purposes but regardless, they were returning to bed.

Translation:

Mesh’la = beautiful

Verd’ika = little soldier

Gedet’ye = Please

So I’m a slut for angst and I love DangerousGalaxy so here’s a promt for you, if you still take them. If not, please ignore.So… Obi-wan going to Cody for comfort after an «encounter» with a senator that the vode couldn’t prevent. Perhaps he got snagged on after leaving Organa’s office, before someone could get up there to meet and escorts him. And the Guard tries to intervene but don’t wanna risk the senator getting annoyed or angry and taking it out on Obi-wan.And Anakin and the other jedi he’s close to are aren’t at the temple so he goes to the barracks, to his commander. And Cody taking care of him, maybe having a talk and Obi getting to have a good healty cry and sleep (and perhaps a hug and a cuddle. Force knows the man needs some positive touch)

Posted on av swmoddy

Shivering faintly, his arms wrapped tightly around himself as he stared at his own reflection in the dark window, Obi-Wan swallowed thickly before reaching up to touch the split in his lip, hissing quietly at the pain.

The entire left side of his face hurt so badly and his lower half burned with every step he took but he had managed to ignore it as he moved further and further away from the office.

Until he saw himself in the window, Coruscant at night sprawled wide and neon lit on the other side.

He looked horrible.

Pale, his face red and swollen looking with his upper lip swollen and broken even if the wound had started scabbing over with his robes wrinkled and hastily done up.

If Anakin saw him like that… if the rest of the temple saw him…

Obi-Wan shivered.

It was wasn’t a secret among the older padawans and adults but he knew, had always known, that among the preteens of the order, from ten to twelve, the knowledge was there. An open secret to what really happened in the Senate but they tried to spare their younglings.

It was night now but there were night classes, younglings who were nocturnal, young padawans coming and going because of missions or the war.

Then there was Anakin, Anakin who Padme luckily saved more often than not from suffering in the same way, Anakin, who had thankfully yet to bare the consequences of an unwanted pregnancy and giving a child to the creche.

If he saw Obi-Wan like this…

He was already on edge from the war, Obi-Wan had barely been able to stop the other Jedi before when Obi-Wan was hurt in their duties to the Senate. He wasn’t ignorant that the Senator that had broken his leg during ‘play’ had disappeared only a few weeks later, Anakin playing clueless when asked about them.

Horrible liar, his boy, at least to Obi-Wan, who knew all his tells.

But that boy also knew all of Obi-Wan’s tells most of the time, despite Obi-Wan’s best sabacc face.

He couldn’t go to the temple, not like this and Dex’s diner was shut down for a few days to deal with an infestation on the street, so he couldn’t go to Dex either to ask for bacta.

Swallowing thickly, Obi-Wan’s mind raced as he frantically flickered his eyes over the wide expanse of Coruscant.

But then his eyes landed on another, unmistakable building, one of the three buildings one could never mistake on Coruscant these days.

The Rotunda, the Senate and… the army barracks.

Cody was there, Cody and the 212th.

Cody with his secure grip, Cody, who didn’t ask questions, Cody, who promised security with everything he was.

His feet were moving before Obi-Wan consciously decided on his action, the Jedi moving as quickly as he could without breaking into a run.

He absently noted a guard up on a higher level when he came out into the foyer, the trooper coming to a stuttering still with his focus clearly on Obi-Wan but he couldn’t stop, not when he saw several senators were still around, several aides, many of them pausing when they saw him.

Obi-Wan couldn’t take another round, not now, not like this, not when he felt like he was breaking apart.

And so he moved as quickly as his feet would take him without running, his speed walking getting him to the temple speeder he had parked earlier.

With fumbling hands, he managed to buckle himself up, pain lacing up his spine from sitting but he forced himself to ignore it.

In the blink of an eye he was outside of the barracks, pulling into one of the little used parking spots that mainly Jedi used, a part of him worried about the lapse of time he just had as he wondered if his commander was even awak- “General?” Obi-Wan looked up, shaking slightly as he he saw Longshot, the trooper standing in gray slacks in the doorway, likely having just returned from somewhere.

Longshot eyes widened as they meet his and he stepped out, making his way to Obi-Wan. “I-Is Commander Cody awake?” Obi-Wan questioned numbly, letting Longshot help him out of the speeder, wobbling slightly as the man supported him.

Troopers were safe, Longshot was safe and Obi-Wan felt his eyes well with tears he struggled to beat down.

“Yes sir, he’s doing some paperwork with Captain Rex, said that any vod that needed him was welcome. He’d more than welcome you.” Longshot eyes flickered over him, cataloging everything he saw and Obi-Wan felt wrath and worry echoing through the Force.

He also felt other troopers, curiosity and concern lacing them as they took in the Jedi but his focus remained on Longshot. “Can… would you take me to him? I…” Obi-Wan swallowed thickly. “…I need help.” He whispered, the words feeling like defeat in his mouth.

Longshot eyes however softened, his rage replaced by the urge to comfort along with that worry from the start. “Of course General. We’ll do anything for you.” He stated, carefully pulling him towards the barracks doors, his free hand pulling his comm from his belt.

Obi-Wan stepped into the warmth of the barracks foyer, brightly lit and welcoming to the Jedi and for the first time tonight, felt his worry and fear fade into the ether.

He was safe.

Ohhh poor Obi-Wan! In Sightlessbird, how do Ani, Rex, and Fox handle their downed birdie? Do they go and hunt down whoever did this, do they stick by him, maybe Fox tells Ani why they call Obi ‘Birdie’?I’m so anxious to find out what happens next! You are a fantastic writer, Moddy!

Posted on av swmoddy

Pausing in his reading when the door opened, Anakin’s parsec tension eased as the familiar red and white armor stepped in, Fox glancing about with his helmet under his arm before the commander nodded to Anakin in greeting. “Sir.”

Nodding back, Anakin settled his pad down on the bed. “Commander, you just missed Rex… and dinner.” He chuckled quietly as he leaned back in his chair.

Fox snorted slightly, coming over to sit on Obi-Wan’s bedside on the other side from Anakin to avoid crowding.

Fox pulled off his gloves, settling them into his belt and then he gingerly picked up Obi-Wan’s IV attached hand and held it delicately between his own, stroking slowly with his fingertips as Anakin started filling him in on the healers prognosis for the day.

He and the commander had struck up a slightly… well, not odd but interesting relationship, maybe even a friendship, over the last few days as the man came to visit Obi-Wan.

Anakin would fill the commander in on how Obi-Wan was doing, they’d sit for a while and talk over Obi-Wan and to him, hoping the boy could hear them. The healers had felt it best to keep Obi-Wan in a healing coma, letting his body and the Force naturally deal with the effects the poison had on his systems.

Anakin hadn’t been too sure of that the first two days but on the third, with Obi-Wan’s face visibly less swollen and the color of his face returning to a soft pink shade instead of the grayness, he saw the wisdom of it.

Another day and they would be bringing Obi-Wan out of it and get him back on a meal plan due to his, at the moment, sensitive stomach and some slight weight loss and both Anakin, Fox and Rex were thrilled with that, the captain having hurried out to inform the rest of the 501st.

There were just too many of the men to visit the temple daily, so Rex was generally the one to come to the temple, using his comm recorder so the others could see Obi-Wan, even if it wasn’t in person. Anakin knew that all his men had some residual anxiety about losing Obi-Wan, just as they had lost Ahsoka and therefore didn’t begrudge them that comfort.

If he was honest, he had his own anxiety, especially after this poisoning attempt.

He couldn’t make sense of it.

Obi-Wan was a padawan, a young one, a minor.

He was also blind.

While the Jedi order knew he was capable and the troopers that saw him fight also learned it, the rest of the galaxy could be… iffy when it came to those of disabilities.

He had seen a few treat Obi-Wan as if he needed help walking everywhere or finding things, Obi-Wan’s frustration lining their bond along with agitation the other did his best to meditate away.

It wasn’t always easy and Anakin wasn’t much help in normal meditation but thankfully, moving meditation helped Obi-Wan too, or spending time with the troopers.

“Its good to hear that Birdie will be up soon, been missing him complaining about medical food.” The commander murmured when the conversation lulled slightly.

Tilting his head curiously, Anakin eyed the other man.

Fox caught it and raised a perfectly sculpted brow back at him, making Anakin wonder if the other plucked them to get them that shape. “Birdie. Little Bird. Even senaar, I’ve seen and heard the Coruscant Guard call Obi-Wan that before. Just… curious I guess, where the name comes from.” Anakin shrugged slightly, peering at him.

Caressing Obi-Wan’s hand slowly, Fox looked back down to Anakin’s padawan. “…The first time we meet him, he lost his vision. He was crying and screaming, in pain and yet still fighting,” He spoke slowly, figuring that if he could talk to anyone about this, it would be Obi-Wan’s master. “He looked so small, like the tubies back on Kamino.” The phantom smell of burning flesh was in Fox nose.

Swallowing thickly, Anakin glanced at the scar across Obi-Wan’s face. He had yet to ask for that story, not wanting to dredge up painful memories just yet.

Fox voice brought him back. “But… despite it all, despite being hurt, despite screaming… he didn’t let it slow him down. He lost something many people raised with vision would consider pivotal,” Fox reached out, stroking Obi-Wan’s long hair out of his face. “And instead of falling, he soared, showing aptitude and perseverance many people could only dream of, tackling his new life head on instead of hiding. It was impressive and we got to see it when he visited us once a week or commed us almost daily as he recovered… so he’s our little Bird, Birdie, our senaar. Flying high despite the circumstances of his life” Smiling slightly in fondness, Fox squeezed Obi-Wan’s small hand between his.

Peering between them, Anakin felt a small smile grow.

Well, put it that way, he could see why they had nicknamed Obi-Wan their bird.

Oh damn! I really need to know if Din is gonna be fine in sweet princess 0.0 boba will be by his side during the recovery, right?

Posted on av swmoddy

Waking slowly, Din kept his breathing soft and his mind steady as his body started feeding him input of what was going on. It was a technique he had developed while hunting. Panicking helped no one, least of all oneself if you were alone in a volatile situation. Therefore, Din had forced his mind to cope with the situation, so he could later, when he was safe, scream and cry about it.

His body ached but it was a dull thudding ache along with muscle stiffness and the smell of sickly sweetness hung in the air, the kind that came from overripe fruits, lingered in his nose with an undercurrent of sterile chemicals only used one place.

A medical facility.

That meant Din was safe, or at the very least somewhere that didn’t wish him harm.

There was a squeeze of his right hand and Din felt his entire being relax with the certainty of safety, because he recognized the scarred, callused hand wrapped around his.

Boba, his Boba.

Opening his sore eyes slowly, noting that his left eye felt sore, Din tilted his head to look, meeting the relieved amber ones of Boba as the man tightened his grasp on Din’s hand. For a long moment, they just stared at each other and then Boba leaned in, pressing their foreheads together as Boba let out a shuddering breath, the lack of armor making it easier for the two to press in close to each other. “Din… Din.” He whispered, voice thick, as if he didn’t know what else to say other than to repeat Din’s name.

Not that Din minded. He liked it when Boba said his name, so few had used his name before and having Boba say it… It brought him warmth.

Squeezing the others hand, Din let out a low, raspy noise. The sound had Boba twitching and then he shifted, holding onto Din’s hand and honestly, Din was grateful. The other leaning away gave Din a moment to glance about.

This was clearly a medbay, the room was sterile but instead of utterly polished white, it had a more snow like color, giving the walls a tint of blue. It was soothing and Din found himself relaxing more at the sight.

There were no windows. The only light was the fixtures above them, but that was understandable if they were back in the palace. Leaving the medbay with windows could let in grains that were the last thing a medic would want. Sand was a contaminant that could get into injuries, samples or medical liquids.Din knew that sand could ruin bacta and lead to infection. Sand-spoiled bacta sealed the sand inside the wound. The body reacted to the foreign contaminant as it was ‘programmed’ to do, attacking newly healing wounds which also house small invaders. Everything could become necrotic far too fast after that.

To the north of the room, Din could spot four doors. Squinting at them, he suspected that one was a fresher and hopefully a shower was in there, unless Boba took Din back to their room. Another door, he suspected, was the office of the medic, though he couldn’t parse out what the last two doors might lead to.

A surgery room?

A medical storage room for equipment?

Maybe a room for cleaning equipment that the medic had set up.

The medic…

Russal, the zabrak, wide red eyes and yellow skin with black tattoos practically absorbing the sun from the window above Din.

The memory was faint and Din swallowed thickly as he tried to push the memory away.

He didn’t want to think about it as he instead looked to the south of the room where there was a third door. This one Din suspected would lead out into the rest of the palace and faintly, Din wondered where in the palace these medical spaces had been set up.

Boba’s hand tightened on his and Din focused back on the other, letting out a happy noise when he saw the cup with a small spout on it. He quickly raised his head from the pillow he was laying on. A small smile crossed Boba’s lips and he set the spout to Din’s cracked lips, carefully pouring in a small amount of water, waiting for Din to swallow and then repeating until the cup was empty.

Shockingly, the water was cold.

Or maybe it just felt cold to Din. Because Din knew that the thin, white sheet with faint pink tinge covering him must be stiff and the mattress beneath him hard, but after the days he had, it all felt lovely to him.

With the thought of the last few days however, Din was reminded of his hand and dropped his head back against the pillow to tilt it, looking at his left hand.

He paused when he saw the pinkish orb locked around his hand as it rested along his side, staring at the gel like substance wrapped around his hand, a hand that had all five fingers with an IV attached through the gel to the top of his hand, leading to a bag hanging on a pole.

Confused, Din turned his head to Boba, eyes as wide as he could get them at the moment, full of questions. “Russal attached your fingers,” Boba stated, seeing what had Din so confused. “He said that your fingers might not be as functional as before, though physical therapy would help you recover somewhat.” He continued more quietly.

Nodding slowly with understanding, letting his mind mull over that information, Din slowly looked back to his hand. From what he could see, his hand looked undamaged, he couldn’t even see a scar through the gel where he knew they had been severed.

“…Can you move them?” Boba queried quietly, his grip tight on Din’s other hand.

Licking his still chapped lips, Din brow furrowed as he focused on his hand, thumb, index and middle finger easily pulling in towards his palm. The ring finger followed, slower but still moved by Din’s muscles.

The pinkie finger however he could tell was barely responding to Din’s decision to make a fist, was simply pulling along due to the tendons in his hands. That had been the first finger to go and it made sense that it was worse off.

Resting his fingertips against his palm, Din let out a shaky breath, feeling his hand throb inside the gel orb before he slowly straightened his fingers out once more. He couldn’t quite straighten his pinkie however and Din sighed deeply as he looked to Boba.

The other looked thrilled, having watched closely. “That’s… that’s better than Russal suspected. He stated that you might not be able to move either.” He breathed out heavily and looking closely, Din saw how tired the other man.

“…Have you slept at all?” He whispered shakily, grunting when Boba grimaced heavily.

Tugging at the others hand, Din gave him a pleading look. “Din… love…” Boba weakly protested, glancing to what Din had suspected was the office.

Clearly the other was thinking he had to inform the medic that Din was awake.

“Please… we can… can deal with everything in the morning,” Din pleaded, tugging again. When Boba wavered, Din spoke again. “I just want you to hold me… make me feel safe.” He wished his voice didn’t sound as broken.

Instantly Boba’s scarred face softened and he shifted, reaching down.  If he was honest, it took Din an embarrassingly long moment to realize the other was removing his boots. But finally, finally Boba crawled onto the narrow medical bed, carefully shifting Din around until they were curled up on their sides and into each other, Din’s head settled under Boba’s chin and against his cloth covered chest and his healing hand suited onto Boba’s hip for support.

The warmth of the others body was a godsend and Din sniffled quietly as Boba’s hands slowly rubbed his back.

Boba didn’t smell good, the scent of souring sweat hung on him, but Din couldn’t bring himself to care a lick about it. He was sure he didn’t smell any better after all those days in captivity, unless someone had given him a sponge bath.

And by the feel of his own hair as Boba’s hand came up to stroke it for a few moments, Din highly doubted that.

He must be so gross, but he was still so tired and he didn’t want to move from Boba’s body or grasp. “You’re safe, you’re here. I have you, I have you Din. I have you love, my sweetheart. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” Boba whispered, his voice a tad frantic, as if he was assuring himself as much as Din.

But Boba was right.

He was safe, he was home and in Boba’s arms and that was all he had wanted those lonely days abducted by those that wanted to force Boba to give them things.

“I know…” Din agreed in a quiet rasp, nuzzling slowly. “I’m in your arms after all, my Boba, my buir’ika.” He smiled shakily, Boba’s arms tightening around his body at the words.

Safe.

Moddy!! You can’t leave us on a cliffhanger in SweetPrincess. What happens next?? How does Boba react to seeing Din and vice versa?? Pleeeeease I gotta know 👀🥰💜

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There is a panicked voice echoing faintly, screams of pain and yet Din can’t quite bring himself to open his eye.

He feels so tired and sometimes the pirates get into arguments among themselves.

They’re not a well oiled crew, that’s for sure.

Just like Ranzer’s old crew when Din worked with them.

Assholes the whole lot and so are these pirates and a vicious part of Din hopes one of them kills the other, regardless who has started the fight. A bigger part of him just wants to sleep as his body throbs with pain.

In his dreams, he’s with Boba, curled together in their bed as Boba strokes Din hair and whispers soft nothings, Din’s own hands tracing the scars on Boba’s body with tender reverence.

In his dreams, he’s home.

He’s actually a bit annoyed as he hears a fleshy thump, someone hitting the wall if he was to take a guess and a male voice pleading before there’s a fleshy thump and the sound of boots pretty much running in his direction.

Din lets out a soft noise, flinching weakly at the clang of his cell door as he forces his eye open to look, wondering weakly if its one of the pirates coming to take another finger and he can’t lose himself to his dreams if that’s what’s happening.

Instead of a leering pirate or the karking demagolka captain, he’s meet with black and green as Boba drops to his knees in front of Din, throwing his helmet off his head so Din can see his scarred face and wide eyes. “Din’ika.” The man whispered shakily, reaching out to cup his face.

Letting out a low, sobbing noise of relief through cracked lips, Din leaned into the gloved hands, wishing they were bare.

Faintly he also took notice of the slight sheen of blood on Boba’s cuirass and the part of him that had been raised a warrior that he could never quite put aside, snarled in vicious satisfaction, realizing that Boba had come in guns blazing.

Boba had come for him. “Bo-” He rasped out, his voice cracking on the others name as he wheezed, his throat struggling to swallow as Boba pressed their foreheads together for just a moment with a soft murmur. Then the other leaned back, calling over his shoulder.

“Don’t talk sweetheart, let your voice rest. Russal! Get here or I swe-” What Boba was swearing was never verbalized as a young, slightly spooked looking zabrak suddenly materialized, carrying a heavy looking bag as nervous eyes looked at Din.

They widened even more and Din wondered what kind of condition he was in for the zabrak to look like that. ‘He’s kinda pretty, all yellow and black…’ Din noted faintly as the horned male settled down on the sandy ground.

He started digging through the bag, bringing out hypos and bandages and oh, this must be the medic Boba had been talking about getting on staff for them personally. For the palace alone and in particular because Din had his nasty habit of cauterizing things.

Well, that made sense.

Wait, the two were talking, Din tried to focus on what they were saying. “ -nd you need to lower his arms sir, the blood flow to them must be horrible if he’s been kept here the entire time, I’ll do what I can but the rest has to be done in the medbay of the ship we took here.” Russal spoke quickly, a slight lisp to his words.

Must be the somewhat too long canines in his mouth doing that and Din realized that his mind wasn’t tracking properly what was going on.

If it was, he would be focusing on what was going on and not random things like the fangs of the medic.

Boba’s hands closed around his arms, fiddling with the rope tying them above his head and Din whimpered quietly as he felt the brush against his finger stumps. “Shh I know Din’ika, I know sweetheart. Just a few more minutes.” Boba whispered, Din giving a small cry when his sore arms were being lowered.

Hands, unfamiliar and colder than Boba, touched his shoulder and Din flinched away from them and towards his lover, feeling the arms of the other come up around him. “Shh, shh love, let Russal work on you. I know it must hurt but let him do his job.” Boba whispered, keeping an arm around him as he bit at the fingertips of his other glove, pulling it off.

The warm hand brushing his face had Din settling slightly, nuzzling into the hand as Russal continued prodding at injuries, Din hissing when he felt a hypo being set into the meat of his shoulder.

But Boba was there, his fingers running through his hair and into the back of his head and a distant part of his mind recognized that Boba was looking for injuries with the way he was prodding at his head.

Found the mudhorn egg too on the back of his head.

The pain was receding though, Din let out a low noise as he took in that the pain was not quite disappearing but it wasn’t as sharp. The pinch of the hypo must have been some form for painkiller and Din let out a soft noise as he rested his head on Boba’s pauldron.

“There we are… just… just relax sweetheart, ner mesh’la.” Boba whispered, voice shaking slightly as he cupped the back of Din’s head, pressing his lips to Din’s forehead.

Odd, his lips almost felt chilled and after several long minutes, between hissing with pain each time Russal touched or cleaned something, Din realized that he must be feverish, his own skin burning and therefore Boba’s normally so warm lips felt cool.

“Sir? I need you to hold him. I’m gonna have to brace his leg, I can’t quite tell if its broken or twisted but I don’t like the idea of moving him without bracing it at least.” The murmur went over Din’s head but the tightening of Boba’s arms around him did not.

It made him whine quietly, only to be hushed by Boba.

There was a shift, cool hands touching below and above Din’s right knee and he only had a moment to tense up when it was suddenly straightened and pulled.

Din screamed with pain and that was the last he knew as his eyes rolled up into his head.

()()()

Boba let out a vicious curse as Din went lax in his arms, burning eyes jumping to the medic even as Russal ignored him, quickly wrapping Din’s knee up in white gauze. He flinched when he caught Boba’s eyes though. “I-I’m sorry sir, but we really couldn’t move him without giving his knee support.” He squeaked out, shaking slightly.

Breathing out, Boba nodded as he continued cuddling Din’s unconscious body, glancing back to find Fennec still keeping the captain on her knees with the blaster in the weequay’s back. The woman was snarling but there wasn’t much she could do after having been subdued by Shand and her personally trained guards.

Boba felt the urge to go over and do… something, anything towards the woman but Din took priority.

Finding his love half conscious and so dehydrated he could barely talk in the little cell, face flushed with fever from infection and yet his skin clammy pale from his own pain, Boba had felt sick to the heart and there was no way he could leave the others side when Din looked at him with his one good eye, the relief and love at seeing Boba overwhelming.

While Fennec was busy, another was more free to move, Cobb coming over with his eyes flashing nervously to Boba and then down to Din’s face, a thin stream of blood coming from the left temple, Cobb having hit the wall at some point during their surge into the buildig. “Did… is he going to be alright?” The marshal questioned, hand tight on his blaster as he stared down at them.

Swallowing thickly, Boba nodded slowly even as he wanted to voice his appreciation for Cobb helping them. “I’ll make sure that physically, he’ll be fine.”

Cobb paused a bit, catching the wording with a grimace.

But he nodded slowly, recognizing that Boba couldn’t answer for Din’s mental state after these three days of pain and hurt Din had gone through, helpless and at the hands of thugs. And Din had barely been tracking anything other than the pain he was in and Boba’s touch.

He didn’t know if the other’s mental state would heal as well.

He could only hope.

“There,” Both men focused on the medic, the young man flinching at the attention even as he squared his shoulders. “The patient can be moved now. I suggest we make haste to the medbay sir.” Russal licked his lips nervous and Boba nodded sharply, reaching for his helmet to put it on. Din was unconscious, so seeing his ugly mug wouldn’t help the other.

And Boba would not leave his father’s armor behind ever again.

Carefully, he shifted his arm beneath Din’s legs and upper back, standing slowly with a grunt as his back protested.

But he refused to let anyone else carry Din, tucking the mando up against his chest as he stepped out of the doors with Cobb and the doctor following, moving to Fennec side, he paused to stare down at the captain as she now cowered beneath his cold visor, Din tucked protectively to his chest. “…Everyone alive is to be brought to the palace, am I clear?” He stated, his voice crackling coldly through the vocoder before he made his way to the ship.

Boba knew he could trust Fennec to follow order and if he smirked a bit when he heard a pained yelp of the pirate captain as the sharpshooter got her moving… well, that was for him to know.