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Title: Promises
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairings: Wolffe/Gregor
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Wars. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's difficult for Wolffe to accept that Gregor is dead the second time around, but when Plo finds Gregor it's not easy to accept that he's alive either.
A/N: Written for the Cloneshipweek prompt reunion on Tumblr.
Promises:
It’s stupid. Wolffe wishes he could tell himself that and the urge would go away. He turns the datacard over in his hand again. He can’t watch Colonel Gascon’s mission report again. He’ll end up breaking another datapad. He feels like he’s wallowing when he watches the holo that Artoo put on there for him: it’s Gregor when he sees the projection of Rex and realizes he is a clone. Artoo had taken him aside and said that he hadn’t known Wolffe and Gregor had been together when Gregor went missing and that he didn’t have a holo of Wolffe. Wolffee sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. He reminds himself that Gascon’s report states that there is no way Gregor could’ve survived the explosion on Abafar, but Wolffe has already believed him dead, has already grieved him, but he feels stuck this time, almost weighed down.
Hasn’t he grieved enough? Wolffe knows there will be more losses before the end of the war, but he’s suddenly so tired.
Plo talks to them about grief, that it can grow or hit them at odd times, and they should allow themselves to feel it, to work through it. If Plo was here Wolffe might seek him out to talk at. He’s not sure he’s able to hold a conversation about this yet. He loves Gregor and thought him dead when actually Gregor had lost his memory and was working in a diner because he didn’t even know he was a clone. It’s like something out of one of those bad holoromances Rex favors.
Sinker’s kitten, a tiny black ball of tooka fluff, starts purring more loudly and kneading at him. Wolffe runs a finger over her head and scratches behind her ears. She closes her eyes and leans into his hand. Wolffe sets the datacard on his desk to run his other hand over her fur. She purrs happily.
There’s a chime. Before Wolffe can respond Plo’s says through the door. “Please don’t get up if you’re seated Wolffe, but may I join you?”
“It’s not locked,” Wolffe tells him. He didn’t even have his privacy settings on, but Plo’s back. He wants to ask where Plo went. They’re in the middle of an aide mission and Plo isn’t really needed to help them drop off food and supplies, but Wolffe didn’t think he was scheduled anywhere else.
Plo immediately catches sight of the kitten. He crosses the room and leans in. “Who is this lovely creature?”
“They insisted on giving Sinker a kitten or they made Sinker take a kitten for the whole crew.” Wolffe explains with a shrug. “I don’t think she has a name yet.”
“We will have to strive to find one worthy of her,” Plo says as the kitten bats at his claw covers.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Wolffe asks.
Plo gives Wolffe his version of a smile. Wolffe raises his eyebrows. Plo chuckles. “I didn’t say I was looking for anything.”
“You had your ‘the Force is leading me to find something’ expression when you left,” Wolffe tells him.
“That’s an apt description,” Plo says, sounding delighted.
“That doesn’t answer the question,” Wolffe points out.
Plo touches his arm, fingers curling over his blacks, then warns, “I have a question for you. Do you have anything of Captain Gregor’s?”
Wolffe frowns. What little Gregor owned came to him when he died, they’re Wolffe’s things now. “Yes. He had a holoprojecter that would rotate different pictures he liked.”
Plo nods, then says sympathetically, “I know what you went through after the Battle of Sarrish, then to find out he’d been alive. I didn’t think you should have to go through thinking he died again without having it confirmed.”
“You found his body.”
“No,” Plo says.
Wolffe closes his eyes. The kitten purrs loudly and butts his hand.
“Wolffe.” Plo squeezes his arm. “I found him in a med center. I wasn’t able to safely move him until today. He doesn’t remember anything before Abafar and the doctors believe he has a traumatic brain injury.”
He can’t hope. He can’t. “He’ll be decommissioned.”
“I won’t allow that to happen,” Plo promises.
“He’s 212th.”
“Master Kenobi wouldn’t either, nor Master Ti if he got sent back to Kamino.”
Wolffe sits there still for a moment, just pets the kitten and tries to understand what Plo is telling him. Gregor’s dead. Gascon’s mission report said Gregor couldn’t have survived. Wolffe wets his lips.
“Wolffe,” Plo prods gently. “Do you think you can bring the holoprojector and the kitten to the med bay. He doesn’t remember you, but he’s eager to meet you.”
“You told him about me?”
“Only good things, I promise.”
Wolffe grunts an acknowledgement, then hands the kitten to Plo so he can find the holoprojector. Plo hands the kitten back when they get to the med bay. And then Gregor is sitting on a medical bed with hair shorter than Wolffe’s ever seen it. Artoo had managed to give him a few holos of Gregor with a beard and a mess of hair. Wolffe wishes he'd had a chance to run his fingers through those curls.
“Hi,” Gregor grins.
Wolffe nods. He’s not sure what to say. He wants to haul Gregor close. He wants to touch, to feel that Gregor is really here in front of him.
“That’s a nice kitten you have,” Gregor comments.
“It’s Sinker’s,” Wolffe explains. “He made me take her while he’s on duty.”
“May I?” Gregor asks, holding out his hand. Wolffe hands the kitten over. Gregor greets her with a smile and scratches her behind her ears before he hands her to Plo. Then Gregor reaches out and touches the holoprojector. Wolffe lets him have it and watches as Gregor sets it next to him on the bed. Gregor takes his hands, squeezes his fingers. Wolffe looks down at their joined hands and tries to memorize the warmth of Gregor touching him. “I’m not supposed to stand on my own yet, but could I have a hug?”
Wolffe lets himself lean in. He lets Gregor decide how to arrange them. He lets himself be pulled in between Gregor’s legs. His hands fist into the side of Gregor’s blacks. One of Gregor’s hand cups the back of his head, guiding him down to Gregor’s shoulder. Gregor’s other hand begins a slow path up his back. Wolffe lets himself breathe in. Gregor still smells the same as Wolffe remembers. Wolffe shudders.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Gregor tells him. “I don’t remember the man you knew, but maybe you could tell me about him?”
“I can do that,” Wolffe promises.
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairings: Wolffe/Gregor
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Wars. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's difficult for Wolffe to accept that Gregor is dead the second time around, but when Plo finds Gregor it's not easy to accept that he's alive either.
A/N: Written for the Cloneshipweek prompt reunion on Tumblr.
Promises:
It’s stupid. Wolffe wishes he could tell himself that and the urge would go away. He turns the datacard over in his hand again. He can’t watch Colonel Gascon’s mission report again. He’ll end up breaking another datapad. He feels like he’s wallowing when he watches the holo that Artoo put on there for him: it’s Gregor when he sees the projection of Rex and realizes he is a clone. Artoo had taken him aside and said that he hadn’t known Wolffe and Gregor had been together when Gregor went missing and that he didn’t have a holo of Wolffe. Wolffee sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. He reminds himself that Gascon’s report states that there is no way Gregor could’ve survived the explosion on Abafar, but Wolffe has already believed him dead, has already grieved him, but he feels stuck this time, almost weighed down.
Hasn’t he grieved enough? Wolffe knows there will be more losses before the end of the war, but he’s suddenly so tired.
Plo talks to them about grief, that it can grow or hit them at odd times, and they should allow themselves to feel it, to work through it. If Plo was here Wolffe might seek him out to talk at. He’s not sure he’s able to hold a conversation about this yet. He loves Gregor and thought him dead when actually Gregor had lost his memory and was working in a diner because he didn’t even know he was a clone. It’s like something out of one of those bad holoromances Rex favors.
Sinker’s kitten, a tiny black ball of tooka fluff, starts purring more loudly and kneading at him. Wolffe runs a finger over her head and scratches behind her ears. She closes her eyes and leans into his hand. Wolffe sets the datacard on his desk to run his other hand over her fur. She purrs happily.
There’s a chime. Before Wolffe can respond Plo’s says through the door. “Please don’t get up if you’re seated Wolffe, but may I join you?”
“It’s not locked,” Wolffe tells him. He didn’t even have his privacy settings on, but Plo’s back. He wants to ask where Plo went. They’re in the middle of an aide mission and Plo isn’t really needed to help them drop off food and supplies, but Wolffe didn’t think he was scheduled anywhere else.
Plo immediately catches sight of the kitten. He crosses the room and leans in. “Who is this lovely creature?”
“They insisted on giving Sinker a kitten or they made Sinker take a kitten for the whole crew.” Wolffe explains with a shrug. “I don’t think she has a name yet.”
“We will have to strive to find one worthy of her,” Plo says as the kitten bats at his claw covers.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Wolffe asks.
Plo gives Wolffe his version of a smile. Wolffe raises his eyebrows. Plo chuckles. “I didn’t say I was looking for anything.”
“You had your ‘the Force is leading me to find something’ expression when you left,” Wolffe tells him.
“That’s an apt description,” Plo says, sounding delighted.
“That doesn’t answer the question,” Wolffe points out.
Plo touches his arm, fingers curling over his blacks, then warns, “I have a question for you. Do you have anything of Captain Gregor’s?”
Wolffe frowns. What little Gregor owned came to him when he died, they’re Wolffe’s things now. “Yes. He had a holoprojecter that would rotate different pictures he liked.”
Plo nods, then says sympathetically, “I know what you went through after the Battle of Sarrish, then to find out he’d been alive. I didn’t think you should have to go through thinking he died again without having it confirmed.”
“You found his body.”
“No,” Plo says.
Wolffe closes his eyes. The kitten purrs loudly and butts his hand.
“Wolffe.” Plo squeezes his arm. “I found him in a med center. I wasn’t able to safely move him until today. He doesn’t remember anything before Abafar and the doctors believe he has a traumatic brain injury.”
He can’t hope. He can’t. “He’ll be decommissioned.”
“I won’t allow that to happen,” Plo promises.
“He’s 212th.”
“Master Kenobi wouldn’t either, nor Master Ti if he got sent back to Kamino.”
Wolffe sits there still for a moment, just pets the kitten and tries to understand what Plo is telling him. Gregor’s dead. Gascon’s mission report said Gregor couldn’t have survived. Wolffe wets his lips.
“Wolffe,” Plo prods gently. “Do you think you can bring the holoprojector and the kitten to the med bay. He doesn’t remember you, but he’s eager to meet you.”
“You told him about me?”
“Only good things, I promise.”
Wolffe grunts an acknowledgement, then hands the kitten to Plo so he can find the holoprojector. Plo hands the kitten back when they get to the med bay. And then Gregor is sitting on a medical bed with hair shorter than Wolffe’s ever seen it. Artoo had managed to give him a few holos of Gregor with a beard and a mess of hair. Wolffe wishes he'd had a chance to run his fingers through those curls.
“Hi,” Gregor grins.
Wolffe nods. He’s not sure what to say. He wants to haul Gregor close. He wants to touch, to feel that Gregor is really here in front of him.
“That’s a nice kitten you have,” Gregor comments.
“It’s Sinker’s,” Wolffe explains. “He made me take her while he’s on duty.”
“May I?” Gregor asks, holding out his hand. Wolffe hands the kitten over. Gregor greets her with a smile and scratches her behind her ears before he hands her to Plo. Then Gregor reaches out and touches the holoprojector. Wolffe lets him have it and watches as Gregor sets it next to him on the bed. Gregor takes his hands, squeezes his fingers. Wolffe looks down at their joined hands and tries to memorize the warmth of Gregor touching him. “I’m not supposed to stand on my own yet, but could I have a hug?”
Wolffe lets himself lean in. He lets Gregor decide how to arrange them. He lets himself be pulled in between Gregor’s legs. His hands fist into the side of Gregor’s blacks. One of Gregor’s hand cups the back of his head, guiding him down to Gregor’s shoulder. Gregor’s other hand begins a slow path up his back. Wolffe lets himself breathe in. Gregor still smells the same as Wolffe remembers. Wolffe shudders.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Gregor tells him. “I don’t remember the man you knew, but maybe you could tell me about him?”
“I can do that,” Wolffe promises.