Cabur
Pairing: CX-2 x gn!reader
Word count: 1,223
Tags/warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, slight description of blood/injury, established relationship
Summary: CX-2 has come home from a tiresome mission and needs you to pick up the pieces of his lost soul.
Notes: CX-2 fluff anyone 👀? I've made it so he remains anonymous, so you can imagine it as any clone you like (I personally envisioned either Tech or Cody but it works with anyone). Sorry, it's a bit rubbish and short, but yeah.
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Despite the fact that it is just past midnight, Tantiss base is still tingling with life. The pristine white interior contrasts the darkness of the jungle outside. CX-2 has just given his report to Hemlock and, even though everything went according to plan, the scientist still managed to be condescending.
Something stirs uncomfortably inside CX-2, when Hemlock praises him for his work. Taking down rebels, while murdering innocents caught in the crossfire isn't something to be praised for. Anyone in their right mind would spit words like venom at the assassin, throw punches till the bones beneath his skin turned into dust and leave his body unrecognizably mangled.
CX-2 had never questioned anything the way he does now, before he met you, before he started to be treated like a person. Everything changed, when he met you. Slowly, CX-2 started to become self aware and it terrified him, still does. He acts like nothing has changed, but inside his mind is screaming.
Gradually, he's starting to remember more - blurred faces of his brothers, bits and pieces of old missions, old routines. Despite this, he still can't figure out what his name is, or even his old registration number. Every file on the man he used to be was deleted, when he became CX-2. The same happened to all the other assassins.
The clone snaps out of his thoughts, when he realises he's made it to the door to your quarters. The durasteel door opens with a hiss and closes behind him. For the first time in days, it's like he can finally breathe again. As a chief medical officer, you receive your own private quarters, but it's nothing special and smaller than the one you had with GAR.
The clone peels off his black armour and stacks it on the floor by your desk. He practically rips off his gloves, that have too much blood on them to be able to wash off, and drops them on the floor too. The green glow of night vision leaves his sight, as he removes his helmet and is left in the darkness of your room. The short path to your bed is inbedded in his memory, so he has no problem peeling back the covers and slipping beneath them to wrap an arm around your sleeping form.
One of the only things the clone knows how to do perfectly is to not be noticed when he doesn't want to be. Although, now he's starting to second guess himself, because you soon stir awake.
"Cabur?" He sighs contently at the word leaving your lips. As you grew closer with him, you quickly started to hate calling him just by a number. After he told you that he doesn't have a name, you nicknamed him "cabur" - the mando'a word for guardian/protector. You think it's very fitting, especially after he nearly killed a natborn gaurd that got aggressive when you were treating her dislocated shoulder.
"Go back to sleep." He tightens the arm around your waist and slips his other arm beneath your pillow. You try to turn around to face him, but he holds you still.
"Just let me see you, cabur." You plead and he notices the lack of grogginess in your voice. You haven't been asleep long and he doesn't want to worry you. He gives in more easily than he wants to and loosens his hold on you. You turn over and you're just about able to make out his face in the darkness.
The first thing you notice is the exhausted look in his eyes and the dark circles below his eyelids. Then, you notice the patch running along his cheekbone which is soaked in blood. You hesitantly trace the bandage with you fingertips and he has to hold back a grimace.
"Let me patch you up?" You place your palm on the side of his face and absentmindedly rub your thumb in soothing motions just below his wound.
"You don't have to-"
"Of course, I do." I love you sits on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow it down. You sit up and throw your covers off of you to stand up. He sighs heavily, before hesitantly getting up to follow you into the fresher.
A comfortable silence consumes you both, as he sits on the toilet lid and you slowly peel off the bandage on his cheek. The gash is two inches long, still oozing out blood and deep enough to require stitches. You try to hold back a sympathetic wince, but your expression must still give you away, as he says, "it's not that bad."
"Respectfully, cabur, I'm the doctor here, so I'll be the judge of that." You playfully quirk a brow at him to try and lighten the mood. Sometimes, after you gently encourage him, he'll tell you what's happened on his latest mission and how disgusted he feels. You know for a fact it's not going to be one of those long nights. Just by looking into his deep brown eyes, you can tell all he wants is to sleep. Who are you to deny him that?
The room falls into silence again, as you use an alcohol wipe to clean the crimson liquid off his face. He doesn't even flinch at the sting. Times like this, where you're patching up your cabur, makes you think about the GAR, before the Empire had a chokehold on the galaxy. It makes you think about all the clones you had tended to, not knowing how long they were going to live after they left your medical tent. All that bloodshed and death. For what? Everyone lost in the end.
Being stationed on Tantiss base wasn't by choice. Even though it's supposed to be very confidential and secretive, enough rumours of the horrors of clone experimentation has slipped through to give everyone goosebumps at the mention of it's name. Once you get put on Tantiss, you never leave, prisoner or not.
You used to live in fear everyday for weeks on end, but then you realised that it's not about you. It's about them. The clone troopers of the Republic. The fight is not over yet and it never will be till every last clone is freed from the Empire's grasp. You can't remember when you first started conspiring with Captain Rex's rebellion, it's been months now. You've given him everything you possibly can, except for Tantiss' location. When you were sent on a shuttle with other medical officers to Tantiss, the gaurds never told you exactly where the base actually is in galaxy and you havent been able to find out since.
"All done." You snap out of your thoughts, after smoothing a fresh bandage over his newly stitched wound. Your cabur says nothing in response, he just circles his arms around your waist to pull you closer and rests his forehead against your collarbone.
You can't tell him, not yet. If you tell him you're a traitor, he'll want to help you and get himself hurt. You can't watch him bleed because of you.
You sigh and remove your hands from his hair, grabbing his chin to have him face you. You lean down and press your lips against his and it's like drinking from an oasis.
"Come on. Let's go back to bed, cabur."
