Chapter Text
Rex groaned quietly as the tendrils of sleep slowly released their hold. He shifted instinctively in the soft confines of the bed that was not standard issue, his back still pressed against the warmth of his current bed partner. It was a pleasant, if slightly disorienting, sensation that seemed to permeate his skin. Behind him, a soft rustle of fabric and a subtle shift of weight indicated that the other person was also stirring.
“Go back to sleep, Rex,” a soft, warm kiss landed just behind his ear, sending a pleasant shiver through him. “You don’t have to be up yet.”
“Un,” he grunted, trying to get his brain back online, feeling as though it was still wrapped in thick, warm blankets of sleep. “Time is it?”
Almost of its own volition, his hand rose and his fingers traveled up the strong arm banded across his chest. They danced lightly over the exposed skin, tracing the contours of well-defined muscle, before coming to rest at the other’s nape, tangling slightly in the short hair he found there. The feel of it was grounding, a tangible anchor in the hazy space between sleep and wakefulness.
“Early,” a low, husky chuckle rumbled from behind him, vibrating against his back. “Seriously, go back to sleep. There’s nothing you need to do right now.”
He finally managed to pry his eyes open a sliver, just enough to let in the dim light of the room. The blurry form beside him gradually sharpened, the familiar contours of a face he knew intimately coming into focus as he finally turned over. Brown hair, slightly tousled and disheveled from sleep, framed the other’s face. Warm brown eyes that always seemed to hold a hint of amusement, especially when directed at him, met his gaze. And then there was the more recent addition of a jagged scar curling around the left eye that, despite its starkness, only added to the appeal. Right. It was Kote.
A wave of warmth, far beyond the lingering heat of their bodies, washed over him as the memories of the previous night flickered back into vivid clarity. Years. Years of stolen glances across training rooms, hushed conversations in dimly lit corridors, and a deep, aching longing that had finally come to a head. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the other’s lips, just because he could. The simple act felt monumental, a silent confirmation of their new reality.
“There’s you,” he reached out and cupped the brunet’s cheek, thumb brushing lightly across his skin.
A soft groan slipped past Kote’s lips as he turned his head and placed a soft kiss against his palm. But then, with a reluctant sigh, he proceeded to gently extract himself from Rex’s grasp. The blond’s hand slipped from the other’s face but he managed to catch the CC’s hand before it fully disappeared, gently halting his retreat.
“Where are you going?” he protested, a playful edge entering his tone, unwilling to break the connection just yet, and pulling the other slightly back towards him.
“As much as I’d like to stay here with you a bit longer,” the dark gaze raked appreciatively over his sprawled form, “I want to catch Prime before he leaves.”
Honey brown orbs snapped fully open, the last vestiges of sleep finally releasing him. Right, Prime was going to get Harry. Their son was finally going to be returned to them. The reminder was a sharp tug back to reality, pulling him from the languid comfort of the bed and into the pressing matters of the day. He reluctantly let go of Kote’s hand and sat up, the thin blanket pooling around his waist, the morning air suddenly feeling cooler against his skin.
“You don’t have to go with me,” the brunet shook his head.
“I’m awake now anyway,” he swung his legs over the side of the bed, the mattress creaking softly under his weight. “No real incentive to stay in bed now, is there? Besides, I wanted to talk to Kom’rk before Prime leaves.”
“Oh?” a dark brow rose suspiciously. “And what does Kom’rk have to do with Prime’s departure?”
“Wait,” Rex paused in his current search for something to wear to shoot an incredulous look over his shoulder, “you’re not still on about Kom’rk, are you? I explained this last night. He’s my buir, nothing more.”
“Right,” Kote pulled a face, moving to grab his own clothes. “Still doesn’t explain what he has to do with Prime leaving.”
“I’m going to ask him to go with him,” he shrugged, pulling on a pair of pants. “It’ll give him a chance to get to know his grandson. And it’ll give me a bit of revenge in the process.”
He quickly located a shirt and made a beeline for the small, attached fresher the room sported. He could feel Kote’s slightly suspicious gaze on him as he made his way across the room.
“Revenge?” the brunet challenged playfully. “And what exactly did I do to warrant such… drastic measures?”
The blond paused in the doorway, shooting a mischievous grin over his shoulder, “Oh, not you. At least not right now,” he winked. “I’ll get you back for being a cockblock later. No, this is for a certain buir who thought locking us in a storage closet was a good idea.”
With one last smirk, he disappeared into the fresher, the soft click of the door echoing in the quiet room. Kote chuckled softly, shaking his head as he pulled on his own tunic. By the time he emerged, dressed and feeling far more alert, the CC was already slipping on his boots.
“So,” the brunet asked curiously, “care to fill me in on this revenge for Kom’rk? Though I feel you should include Ordo as well.”
“Patience, Kote,” he leaned against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest and a smug look gracing his features. “All in good time. Besides, I thought you’d want to get revenge on Ordo yourself, considering you’re the one he tricked.”
“Fine,” the other conceded. “But if this revenge involves anything that will land us in hot water with Prime before he even gets Harry, I’m blaming you.”
“Trust me,” Rex pushed himself off the doorframe and stepped closer to Kote, his gaze softening as he leaned in, placing a light kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Though we should probably go if we want to catch Prime.”
The pair made their way out of the room and towards the hanger, their footsteps loud in the still corridors. The hallways were quiet this early, a peaceful hush indicating most everyone was still likely asleep in their bunks or at their designated posts. As they walked, Kote kept shooting curious, questioning glances at him, but he just offered a knowing smile in return, thoroughly enjoying the suspense he had created.
The hanger bay was mostly empty, a vast, cavernous space that swallowed sound. Only a handful of mechanics dotted the distant edges, making final checks on a sleek, utilitarian transport ship. Its boarding ramp was already lowered to the durasteel floor. Crates and equipment, organized with military precision, were neatly stacked nearby, ready for loading. Prime, a formidable figure even in the quiet of the hanger, stood near the base of the ramp, his familiar armor gleaming under the overhead lights. His helmet was clipped securely to his belt, allowing his focused expression to be seen as he reviewed a datapad.
Rex felt a surge of anticipation mixed with a touch of nerves. This was it. A chance for spectacular revenge or for things to go horribly wrong. He took a deep, steadying breath, the scent of durasteel and faint exhaust fumes filling his lungs. Subtly, almost imperceptibly, he signaled his counterpart to hang back slightly. He then activated the wrist comm he’d picked up in Kote’s room.
“Kom’rk?” he kept his tone carefully neutral, giving no hint of the underlying tension thrumming through him. “Can you meet me in the hanger? There’s something I need you to do for me.”
~On my way, Rex’ika,~ the Null responded immediately.
He deactivated the comm with a soft, almost inaudible click and settled in to wait, his gaze fixed on the bounty hunter. A few tense minutes stretched into what felt like a small eternity before the brunet strode into the hanger, his usual laid back expression firmly in place. Dark eyes flicked between the blond and their progenitor, a silent question in their depths.
“Rex?” the other quirked a brow. “You needed something?”
“Yeah,” he took a subtle breath and began leading the older male toward the waiting ship. “You almost ready to go, buir?”
The word, soft and almost insignificant in its utterance, hung heavy in the vast space of the hanger. Yet in the context of their chaotically strained relationship, it was a seismic shift. The bounty hunter’s head snapped up, his gaze sharpening instantly, abandoning the datapad. The dark eyes held a small note of surprise and no small amount of suspicion as they zeroed in on the blond. They were sharp and assessing, attempting to dissect his every intention, to peel back the layers of his seemingly innocuous question.
Beside him, Kom’rk froze mid-step, a sudden stillness overtaking him. His dark eyes widened almost imperceptibly as the word registered. The carefully constructed mask he usually wore seemed to crack slightly, revealing a flash of something akin to shock and confusion, perhaps even a hint of hurt, before it was quickly suppressed and his features hardened.
“Buir?” Prime’s brow shot up skeptically. “That’s quite the turn around there, isn’t it, Rex’ika?”
“You didn’t answer my question, buir?” he crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly.
“Right,” the older male shook his head exasperatedly. “Just finishing up final prep, as Kote well knows.”
“Right,” Rex echoed. “Kom’rk,” he turned to the Null, “Prime’s heading to Coruscant to retrieve Harry. I was hoping you would go with him.”
Both men turned their full attention back to him. Prime’s sharp gaze darted between his two clones, his suspicion deepening with every passing second, clearly trying to piece together the unspoken currents and hidden agenda. A muscle tightened in Kom’rk’s jaw and the hand that had been resting casually near his thigh clenched into a tight, white-knuckled fist. His dark eyes, usually so steady and impassive, flickered with a brief note of hurt before settling into a hard, almost cold glare.
“Go with him?” the other repeated, his attention fixed solely on the younger male. “Why would I go with him?”
There was a sharp edge to the Null’s tone, a barely concealed resentment that hadn’t been present moments before. Their progenitor remained impassive, attention still mostly on the blond, though his mind was clearly working through the implications of the sudden change in dynamics.
“I just thought,” honey brown orbs held Kom’rk’s gaze, a small twinge of guilt warring with the satisfaction of his small act of vengeance, “that since Harry is family, it would be a good chance for the two of you to get to know each other.”
“Family?” the younger brunet snorted softly, a harsh, bitter edge to his voice. “And where exactly do I fit into this ‘family’ of yours?”
The air in the hanger crackled, thick with unspoken tension and raw emotion. He swallowed hard, the initial satisfaction starting to curdle into something more complicated as a knot started forming in his stomach. Luckily, Kote, ever reliable Kote, chose that moment to slide in beside him. A reassuring arm wrapped around his waist, providing support and strengthening his resolve.
“Well,” he held the Null’s intense gaze, “you are my dad, so where do you think you fit in?”
The unfamiliar title felt foreign and yet undeniably true on his tongue. He risked a side-long glance at Prime, who remained silent, his expression wary, watching the scene unfold with keen interest.
The other’s reaction was immediate and visceral. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, a wave of something akin to shock washing over his features before being quickly masked. The hard edge in his gaze softened for a fleeting moment, replaced by a flicker of something that might have been surprise, or even… hope? But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by renewed suspicion that mirrored their template.
“Dad?” a dark brow rose incredulously, as his gaze traveled between Rex and Prime. “You… you’ve never called me that before, Rex’ika.”
“Yeah,” he countered, a defiant glint in his eyes. “And who’s fault is that? Cause it sure as hells wasn’t mine.”
“Ya know what?” the bounty hunter threw his hands up in exasperation. “I’m done with whatever game you’re playing, brat.” Dark eyes shot pointedly to the unrepentant blond. “Ship leaves in ten, if you’re coming, Kom’rk.”
“He’ll be there, buir,” Rex shot back with a cheeky grin.
Dark eyes rolled in mind annoyance as the older male turned and made his way up the ramp of the ship. After a moment, Kote gave his waist a reassuring squeeze before moving to follow, leaving him alone with the Null. His attention returned to the other, who was now watching him with a mixture of suspicion and hesitant yearning in his eyes.
“Alright, Rex’ika,” Kom’rk crossed his arms over his chest. “Spill. What game are you playing?”
“Payback,” a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.
“And what exactly are you paying me back for?” the brunet’s brow quirked curiously.
“I don’t know,” he countered, feigning ignorance, “maybe for throwing me in a closet last night?”
“You’re really gonna complain about that?” the older male scoffed, a genuine chuckle escaping him. “After what I just saw? And if I’m not mistaken,” his hand rose and lowered the collar of Rex’s shirt just enough to reveal a dark, purplish bruise blooming on his neck, “you thoroughly enjoyed yourself.”
“That’s beside the point,” he swatted the offending hand away. “It’s the fact that you did it at all. Oh, and for the fact that you and the others had everyone, including Kote, believing I was fucking all of you.”
“I can’t control what other people think,” the other shook his head. “I’m not a Jedi. Besides, you went along with it.”
“I guess I did,” he sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat.
“But why did you have to call Prime ‘buir’?” a frown marred the older male’s features, though it was leaning more toward a pout, but Rex wasn’t suicidal enough to mention that aloud.
“He did adopt me too,” the blond snorted. “And as someone once pointed out, most sentients have more than one parent.”
“I did,” the Null shook his head. “But why does he get that honor?”
“He doesn’t,” he smiled mischievously. “He may be my parent, but he’s not my dad.”
“Oh,” Kom’rk’s eyes widened in shocked surprise, before narrowing in contemplation, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his features. “You’re a cheeky little bastard, aren’t you?”
“That’s why you adopted me,” he grinned. “Dad.”
“One of the reasons, yeah,” the brunet chuckled. “Though do I really have to go with him to Coruscant?”
“You don’t have to,” he raked his hand over his short hair. “But Harry wants to come home, and Kote has already asked Prime to go. I would appreciate it if you would go as backup. Bring my son home safe. Besides, it’s a great opportunity for you to actually meet your grandson.”
“Fine,” Kom’rk sighed in fond resignation. “You’re a menace, you know that, right? But I’ll go. Though, if Prime ends up thrown out the airlock, I cannot be held responsible.”
888888
The deep thrum of the transport’s engines had become a constant companion, a low vibration that had settled into the background of Jango’s mind over the last day or so. They were well into hyperspace now, almost halfway to their destination, the external universe reduced to a streaking endless tunnel of vibrant blue light outside the viewport. Jango sat comfortably in the pilot’s chair, his hands resting lightly on the controls, nominally overseeing the ship’s autopilot. But his attention was mostly directed inward, lost in the swirling eddies of his own restless thoughts.
Kom’rk, predictably, was absent from the cockpit. Jango could easily imagine him seeking the quiet solitude of his bunk, perhaps staring at the ceiling, or even retreating to the small cargo bay where their gear was stowed, finding a strange comfort among the neatly packed crates. The younger male was clearly still brooding, a storm cloud of resentment clinging to him like a second skin, and he allowed him the space. He got it, he really did. Rex’s little stunt back on Kamino had been a masterful work of emotional manipulation and they had both fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. Though, frustratingly, he still seemed to be the only one out of the loop as to why.
Despite the Null’s continued reticence, he couldn’t help but feel… happy about the development. The blond calling him ‘buir’ had caught him entirely off guard. After all the resistance, the stubborn refusal to acknowledge him as anything other than a biological donor, the word had landed with the force of a blaster shot, echoing with an unexpected weight. It was a hard-won battle, a subtle shift in their tumultuous, often strained relationship, but he considered it a victory nonetheless. And he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at the brat’s audacity.
But that, however significant and emotionally resonant, was merely a minor distraction to what was truly bothering him. No, what had truly consumed his thoughts, gnawing at the edges of his peace like a persistent parasite, was the pervasive sense of wrongness he had felt ever since his return from his mission with Kenobi. That wasn’t quite right, though. It had actually started even before that, after they had exited the damn cloud the first time. The strange feeling had been a subtle tremor then, an almost imperceptible hum beneath the surface of his awareness, but it had grown steadily, morphing into a disconcerting buzz.
When the mission had first started, he had merely tolerated the Jedi’s presence. A necessary evil to achieve his own agenda, nothing more. But after he had managed to get them out of the nebula things had started to change. He’d actually found himself enjoying the redhead’s company, a surprising and utterly unwelcome development he had tried to suppress with all his might.
The Jedi, it turned out, possessed a surprisingly dry wit and a sharp, often self-deprecating, sense of humor that caught him off guard more than once. Kenobi’s often sarcastic observations of the planet’s more bizarre flora or his scathing critiques of the sheer inefficiency of a chosen route would cut through the tension of a tricky ascent or miserable dampness of a relentless downpour. Those wry comments had made the seemingly endless slog almost bearable, interjecting unexpected moments of levity that, against his will, he had come to appreciate.
Even the infernal nickname the other had given him, Hero, had begun to grudgingly grow on him. He was nobody’s hero. Except maybe Boba’s. But that was his son, dads were supposed to be their kids’ hero. All his buire had been his, especially Jaster. He had only agreed to it in the first place because he’d been so relieved to have pulled the redhead out of whatever thrall that fucking ghost anomaly had put him under, a relief so potent it had overridden his usual aversion to sentimental nonsense and forced emotional vulnerability.
But it was the feelings that lingered after Kenobi’s departure that truly bothered him. A constant, low-level buzz in the back of his mind. A sense of other that nudged and shifted, accompanied by emotions that were unmistakably not his own. It was like a constant whisper of something or someone else. It was unnerving, an invasion of his carefully guarded mental space.
He tried to ignore it, to mentally wall it off with the same iron discipline he applied to everything else in his life, to push it away with sheer force of will. But it was persistent, a nagging itch he couldn’t quite scratch. A sudden pang of frustration would stab through him, sharp and distinct, and clearly not his own. Other times, he’d be overwhelmed by a wave of compassion so potent it almost made him gag. It felt, uncannily, like… Kenobi.
Now that he actually had the time and wherewithal to sit down and truly think about it, to dissect the sensation with no distractions, it did feel unmistakably like the Jedi was somehow in his head. And the more he thought, the more he realized the connection had started the very moment he’d pulled the other out of whatever terrifying vision that nebula had produced. It was almost as if something had snapped into place then, creating this unsettling, unwanted link.
He didn’t know what it meant, or, more importantly, how to shut it off. He’d never heard of anything like it, not even in the exaggerated, often fantastical tales of Jedi powers or Jaster’s impassioned, rambling lectures on the subject. Was Kenobi feeling this too? Was he perturbed by Jango’s occasional flares of irritation, his sudden bursts of violence, or paternal worry? The thought was almost comical, a tiny spark of amusement in the midst of his growing apprehension.
A sudden, unexpected swoop of excitement, bright and warm, washed over him, a feeling that hadn’t been there a moment prior. It was followed almost immediately by an intense, almost crushing disappointment, sharp enough to make him flinch.
Infuriating Jedi! What the hells had the redhead been doing to get his hopes up like that? The unexpected influx of emotions, so strong and clear, sent a fresh wave of annoyance through him. He inadvertently honed in on the source, focusing his mental energy on the distant presence he felt. Almost immediately, he felt an intense wave of shock ripple through him. It wasn’t just a flicker, it was distinct, a powerful, unmistakable jolt that almost had him looking around the empty cockpit for a possible, unseen threat, his hand instinctively twitching towards the familiar weight of his blaster on his hip.
A slow, dangerous smile worked its way across his face. It appeared this unexpected link did go both ways. And if that jarring reaction on Kenobi’s end was anything to go off of, it seemed the great Jedi Master didn’t have a clue as to what was going on, utterly oblivious to their burgeoning connection. The thought sent an unholy thrill, a spark of pure malicious glee, through him. This was going to be fun.
888888
The moon of Coruscant, a distant, hazy orb through the Temple’s high windows, cast long distorted shadows that stretched like ghostly fingers across the polished floors. Harry used this to his advantage as he quietly snuck out of Thranta’s dormitory, careful not to wake his fellow Initiates or their ever-watchful minder. A small pack, filled with an assortment of pilfered, yet essential, items was clutched tightly in his small hand.
The Force, a warm insistent whisper in his mind, urged him onward, a gentle current guiding his steps with an invisible hand. It was almost like that one time he’d taken that… thing to do whatever he’d needed to do. Fetid? Phoenix? Phineas? No. Whatever. But he knew, deep down, somewhere in the recesses of the memories he couldn’t access yet, as well as his current lessons, that if he followed its pull he would find a way to his dads.
Feeling he had the time, he detoured down a familiar corridor. He crept along, his quiet footsteps swallowed by the usual hum of the Temple’s systems. He paused outside a plain, unadorned door, feeling the familiar presences within. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, he rapped softly on the closed portal.
After a moment, the door hissed open a crack, revealing a tousled head of red hair. Jade eyes, bleary with sleep, blinked slowly, gradually focusing until they finally landed on the little raven.
“Harry?” Cal’s eyes widened slightly in surprised concern. “What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Harry?” Caleb’s voice came from further inside the room. “Are you having trouble sleeping again?”
“No,” he squeezed inside the narrow opening, allowing the door to softly hiss closed behind him. “I came to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye?” the brunet sat up, his short hair sticking up at odd angles. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” he shook his head. “To my dads.”
Cal’s gaze softened as he glanced down at the younger boy, a flicker of understanding entering the jade depths. He had been there when Harry had finally gotten to talk to his dads. He had heard the desperation, the aching longing when he’d told them he didn’t want to be a Jedi. The redhead might not completely understand the depths of his feelings, the weight of his other life, but he did know that the life of a Jedi wasn’t for everyone. And ultimately it was Harry’s choice, whether he liked it or not.
“But why?” Caleb asked incredulously.
“I don’t want to be a Jedi,” the little raven shrugged. “And I learned what I came here to. I can control my magic, mostly. So, it’s time for me to go.”
“Is Fox coming to get you?” Cal asked quietly.
“No,” he shook his head. “The Force is telling me it’s time to go.”
“We’ll go with you,” the brunet didn’t hesitate, throwing off his covers and beginning to look around for a bag, ready to join him.
“No, you can’t,” he insisted emphatically. “You have to stay here. You belong here. I belong out there, with my dads. Besides, you want to be here. You’ve told me so many times how much you want to be a Jedi. I won’t let you throw that away. Either of you. I’ll be fine.”
“Can we at least go with you to the ship?” Cal pleaded, desperate to do something, anything.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the younger boy frowned. “It’s a lot easier for one to sneak around unnoticed than three. Especially without the Cloak.”
“We all have cloaks, Harry,” the redhead’s brow furrowed in confusion, glancing at the standard Jedi cloaks hanging by the door.
“No, no, no,” he waved his hand dismissively. “The Cloak. The one that makes you invisible.”
“There’s no such thing,” Caleb shared a bewildered look with the redhead.
“No, we just don’t have it,” green eyes rolled in annoyance. “Which is why I have to go alone.”
“Fine,” the brunet sighed resignedly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “We won’t go. Just… just be careful, Harry.”
“I will,” he went over and wrapped his arms around the older boy’s waist.
“And try and keep in touch,” Cal pulled him into his own hug. “You know, if you can.”
“Duh,” the little raven replied cheekily. “And if nothing else, you can always go to Fox for updates. Or to call me. You know, whichever.”
Harry finally extracted himself from his friends’ embraces, feeling the lingering warmth of their concern, and made his way back to the door.
“May the Force be with you,” the pair chorused, their voices soft but sincere, just before he slipped into the hall.
“Always,” he smiled as he let the door close behind him.
As soon as he made his way back to the main thoroughfares, the Force, a steady, unwavering hand, began guiding his step once more. He didn’t head for the main public exits, and he didn’t need the Force to know those were always well guarded, even in the dead of night, crawling with Jedi and Temple Security. Instead, he made for the service passages, the less traveled corridors of the massive Temple. He had become more familiar with the Temple’s hidden pathways and secret shortcuts during his time in residence and was fairly confident he wouldn’t get lost.
He ducked into a dark maintenance shaft, the air thick with the smell of ozone and recycled air, a stark contrast to the clean scents of the Initiates’ dorms. The passage was narrow, but easily navigable for his small frame. The hum of machinery was louder here, a constant, low thrum that provided a good cover for any small sounds he unintentionally made.
After a while of following the intuitive pull of the Force, which felt stronger now, he found himself at a hanger access. He squeezed through a surprisingly large gap in a ventilation shaft that opened onto a rarely used loading bay. It was dim, lit only by emergency glow panels that cast a faint green light, and the occasional splash of light from the city beyond, filtering through the grimy viewports.
He peered out cautiously, green eyes scanning the area. No one was in sight. Just a lone loading droid methodically moving a stack of supply crates, its metallic clunks echoing in the stillness.
He spotted a small cargo transport in the corner of the bay, its ramp lowered and engines idling with a soft hum. It was clearly being prepped for departure. And that, he knew with absolute certainty, was where the Force was telling him he needed to be, the pull now almost magnetic.
On silent feet, he darted from his hiding place. He used the various crates and machinery scattered around for cover, moving from shadow to shadow, as he made his way toward the waiting ship. He managed to slip inside without being noticed, a ghost in the dim light, and settled behind a stack of supply crates, burrowing in until he was almost entirely hidden from view. Just in time, too, as the ramp hissed closed with a final pneumatic sigh, and the low thrum of the engines deepened, becoming a powerful roar as the ship began to lift off, vibrating through the deck plates.
A wide, triumphant smile worked its way across his face. He had done it. He had made his escape and soon enough he would be back with his dads, where he truly belonged.