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A Deceitful Creation Part #2 - Wolffe x F!Reader

PART #1

Summary: Echo is gone, and you can’t help but fall apart in his absence. Wolffe steps up, trying his best to mend your broken heart. Will you ever find peace again? Is it hiding somewhere in the commander’s stone heart? Only time will tell.

Warnings: 18+, smut, pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage, intense inner turmoil/depression, mentions of infidelity, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, swearing

Word Count: 7982

A/N: 🙃.......oof ouch owie. You asked for this. If I don’t get at least ONE person saying FUCK YOU! (affectionate) I may as well hang up my typing fingers. There will be a part #3. Lemme know how it goes in there.

(Ao3 Link if ya want it)

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You couldn’t tell what hurt most. Losing Echo, or the miscarriage that soon followed.

When you had gotten the news that Echo was gone, so too was your heart. It had shaken, groaned, then shattered to a million pieces right there in your living room. The comms static was the crescendo to your pitifully sinful existence.

It’s Anakin…You there? I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but…

You knew it was payback, karma, something the Maker themselves bestowed upon you. Their wrath had wrought only suffering and pain into your battered body. The doctors had run test after test after test. They said it was normal to lose something so precious. That it just wasn’t the right time, that you were perfectly fine and you could try again in a few weeks. A few weeks? Perfectly fine? Even a few lifetimes would not be enough time to slough the sadness from your skin. It was also VERY apparent you were not in the slightest bit fine. The crystal of your eyes was now perpetually dulled by a ruddy concoction of strife and anger.

No, please, no more. Was it not enough you had just lost Echo? Now too, the life in which you bore was but lost to the universe. You felt as though you were stepping on clouds, wandering the ether of neither here nor there. A terrible fate only the wholly corrupted and vile have ever endured. Maybe you were marked from the beginning, when you came into the vast expanse of space wailing to the stars who could not love you, who you did not deserve. Stars that were unmistakably Echo and the child you lost.

Your body is nothing but a husk of hazy memories and grief so gut-wrenchingly deep you were sure the ground beneath you would open up and swallow you whole. The blankets and sheets adorning your bed disgusted you. You had yet to wash them for fear of losing the faint scent of Echo on them. However, in your selfishness, Wolffe’s smell was also there right alongside Echo’s. It haunted you how they intermingled, and yet Wolffe’s permeated every inch of you. His smell won in the end, and you hastily bundled the offending fabric and washed it at least ten times over. Even this tiny inkling of Echo had been wiped away and replaced with him. Another reminder of your insolence. What a nightmare, the absolute visage of torture from beyond the veil.

Wolffe was the first to breech your doorway after the accident. You had confessed through tear-ridden sobs that you were pregnant. His shock was palpable, and in the aftermath of it all he too succumbed to the anguish of the truth. You couldn’t tell where his tears ended and yours began. He held you, cooked for you and took care of you into the wee hours of the morning. Invisible shackles chained you to the bed as you rode the waves of misery and despair. You told no one else of your pregnancy for fear of hurting anyone more than they already had been. How could you? You were the one who did the horrendous deed, so you would be the one to bear the burden for all eternity.

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As the days wore on, you had many other visitors. Padmé, Ahsoka, a slew of Jedi masters, heck even a couple of random clones you’d never met before came sulking through your doorway to offer their condolences. Wolffe was on high alert when someone else was over, mostly as a means to keep you guarded. No one paid him any mind, nor did they ask why he was suddenly so clingy after Echo’s passing. It was as if he wasn’t even there when they would come to your bedside.

Rex’ visit was the only one you really remembered out of the litany of people who came to you. It was only because he had come alone, and with a super-special gift.

“I-I’m s-sorry for your loss Miss. I uh… I thought you’d like something to remember him by. I know it’s not much but— well. Here.”

Rex places something next to you, a small cardboard box with Echo’s name hastily scribbled on the top. You were still perpetually melded to your mattress, but this present intrigued you enough to sit up. He nods as you pry the cover from it. A pair of Echo’s blacks were stuffed inside. He had secretly stolen them from the barracks. The smell of him wafts to your nose, a mix of earthy zest and blaster smoke. The sweetness of it mends a little piece of your heart that had been lost. Without a second thought, your hands shoot up to grab at Rex’ chestplate, wrenching him down towards you. You kiss him on the mouth so hard he forgets how to breathe. When you release him, he sputters nervously. He’s flushed so bright he could have lit up a darkened room.

“W-w-… uh… well, you’re welcome? Heh. I hope it helps. If you need anything please don’t hesitate to comm me. Anakin also said to comm him too. I mean… if you need anything from him. We’re all here for you. Echo loved you, so we love you. You’re our vod’ika…never forget that.”

He clears his throat as you rip the blacks from the confines of the box. With a sniffle you pull your shirt off to replace it with Echo’s. Rex makes a startled squeak, turning away to shield his eyes from your nakedness.

“This is… this is…”

The tears start to fall again, stinging and hot from your eyes. You can’t get the words out, but you don’t have to. Rex knows what you’re trying to tell him. He sits on the edge of the bed, grasping your hand in his, and allows you to sob into the balled-up blacks in your other hand. He leaves only when your tears have been drained and your body slacks with fatigue. One forehead kiss and a good tuck-in later, and he’s out the door to let you sleep off your bittersweet buzz.

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The walls around Wolffe’s heart start to crumble into dust with each pass through your doorway. It was routine now. He would come to your apartment almost every night to check on you, make you something to eat, and hold you until you cried yourself to sleep. When you miscarried he was the one who rushed you to the medbay. He held your hand as you wept into the crux of your arm on the examination table. It was him who carried you all the way back to your apartment swaddled in a quilt.

You would never know how deeply he chastised himself, how much he blamed himself for the loss… no, losses. Both of them. You would never know how many nights he spent awake in his bed, bitter thoughts wrapping his mind in the cobwebs of jealousy. Spiteful snarls that he would try to stifle while he fisted himself to completion to the memory of you beneath him. He yearned to whisk you away from Echo to keep you all to himself. The guilt of his intentions was a weighty blanket draped over his shoulders. If only Echo wasn’t in the picture… if only he could just disappear so he could make you his. ALL his. Forever. Oh, how his wish had been granted.

He became your rock in the festering hell that you called your life. When you couldn’t get out of bed, he would carry you wherever you needed to go. As you fought your depression and pain, he would ease your mind with his kindness. You were quick to find he was a natural caretaker. His gruff disposition was just a front to assert his dominance over the ones he lead. With you however, he didn’t have to keep up such a trivial act. He knew you’d appreciate his gentleness. To him, what else was there to uncover? What else was there for you to learn about him, other than the good of his deeds and the purity of his dedication to you?

You took it one day at a time. Slowly but surely you came out of your funk. Echo’s blacks made their way from your body, to under your pillow, your nightstand, and then in your closet in the little box Rex had given you so long ago. Little by little, the shattered remnants of your heart were put back together. One piece was replaced when Wolffe bought you your favorite chocolate. Another when he spent a whole day cleaning your apartment until it sparkled.

Peeking through the jagged seams was a newer, gilded meaning to your life. It shone so brightly some days that you forgot what sadness tasted like and remembered how good joy tastes. Every day you drank in the love that Wolffe had an endless supply of. With cupped hands he would dip into the well of happiness to procure a shot of pure adoration, depositing it graciously into your awaiting mouth. Your mind was clearer and your body free. The final piece was replaced one chilly day, accompanied by wind so strong the windows rattled on their panes.

It was the day you fell in love with him.

He’d just gotten back from a long, grueling mission on some mucky swamp planet. You had been alone in your apartment for weeks awaiting his return. Thankfully it was less of a struggle to live without his help all the time now. You could cook, clean, and leave the apartment without slipping into a panic. In the fog of your mind, you realized you were as excited to see him as you were to see Echo when he would return to you. Your heart, freshly mended, was fluttering for him. Was this what it felt like to move on? To let go of someone, and seat someone else where their absence left you empty? As the clock strikes five, his hulking form enters your vicinity.

“I’ll be right there, give me two minutes.”

He removes his armor, grunting here and there as the mud-streaked pieces fall to the floor. You know he’ll most likely clean it up later. The way in which he rushes into your ‘fresher has you a bit worried. When he returns, towel wrapped around his waist and still dripping with water, you feel it. The final piece wiggles it’s way through your veins and lands perfectly in the center of your heart; you’d fallen in love.

“Sorry I took so long. Do you need anything? Food? Drink? Back rub? I’ll clean up my armor once you’re all set, so don’t worry about the mess. I’ll take care of it.”

He watches your face, and you smile for him. Possibly the first he’s seen in a long, long time. He was rushing so he could make sure you were alright. To make sure you were happy and looked after. Bits of caked-on mud still sticks to his calves and wrists. Kriff, he didn’t even shower properly as to hurry to your side. When you motion for him to come closer, he tilts his head. Relenting, he steps forward until his knees bump the edge of the bed. He moves with a stiffness you’re sure is from all the fighting and trekking he’s done, sore and tired. And yet… his first priority is to make sure YOU are okay. The selflessness in his actions softens your eyes and almost makes you cry.

“Come here.”

It’s a demand. A decree that you do not need to tell him twice, and yet he hesitates.

“I’m still soaked, hold on I’ll go dry off and—”

You don’t let him continue his rebuttal. You lean up, pulling him onto the bed. He groans as you man-handle him underneath you. He’s on his stomach, head resting on his crossed arms. You straddle his hips and begin to work the heel of your palms into the knots of his tense muscles. His eyes slip closed as he sighs contentedly.

“You always take care of me. Let ME take care of YOU.”

He says nothing, only sighing a bit louder when you press into his lower back. You work slowly and with as much tender care as you possibly can. The water on his skin falls in rivulets down to soak your sheets below. You work your hands over every part of him. Slowly but surely the coiled stiffness is cast from his aching body. A few minutes turns into an hour, and he begins to snore beneath you. You cover your mouth to buffer the giggles you let loose from your lungs. The noise wakes Wolffe, who chuckles under you. The thrum of it vibrates through your thighs all the way up to the top of your head.

“Hmmm? What was that? Did I hear someone laugh?!”

In a flourish he’s rolled you both over. He cages you underneath him, a smile on his face. You think you’d do anything to see him smile. In his own mind, Wolffe thinks he’d give his own life just to see you smile, to hear you giggle like that again. It had been so long since you were openly happy. He leans down to kiss you… but retracts with a tiny scowl. It was déjà vu in the worst sense. He hadn’t pushed you for anything more than a snuggle this whole time, but right now you were ready.

“I’m sorry. I’ll get dressed and make us some food. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

As he’s rolling off of you, you wrap your arms around his neck. He searches your face, not unlike the last time he did so. The last time being the catalyst to your downfall. In his eyes was a question. A question with an answer you didn’t have the heart to keep from him.

“Yes Wolffe… please… I’m ready to try again…” Your words have a thousand meanings, all of which are true. You’re ready for happiness, ready for love again, ready for sex, ready to try to create life again. With HIM this time, just him. He smiles again, stooping to kiss you. It’s rough and sloppy and exactly what you had hoped for. He allows you to take solace in his body tonight. Whatever you need, whatever you want he will give you without a shadow of doubt. If he could, he would pry open his ribs to nestle you within, safe from the newfound toil of everyday life. Wolffe knew you, every inch of you. You were his heart now. His everything.

His towel is thrown across the room, discarded with his pile of armor. You lift yourself so he can pull your shorts and underwear off in one fell swoop. He slides down the bed as you sit up to take your shirt off.

“Gonna show you how much I… how much I’ve wanted you mesh’la. Needed you…”

He hooks your thighs over his shoulders, plunging his searingly hot tongue through your folds. You fall back against the mattress with a yelp. He devours you, sucking your swollen clit into his mouth with such fervor your eyes roll into the back of your skull. His tongue lathes over your entrance before he presses a finger into you. It feels so good you can’t speak properly. He groans at your babbling, adding another finger impatiently.

“Shhh mesh’la, I got you. We’ll take care of each other tonight.”

He pumps his fingers into you harshly, scissoring them to prep you. The stretch makes you keen, and with one good suck you’re cumming on his face. Your fingers tangle through his cropped hair, pulling him flush against your pussy. He moans, removing his fingers to replace them with his tongue. He drinks from you like a man dying of thirst. When he lifts his head to look you in the eyes you melt. The shine of your juices on his chin and mouth is an intoxicating sight. He crawls up the bed, licking his lips as not to waste your heavenly taste on his tongue. One of his hands is placed squarely beside your head. The other lazily pumps his length, wet with precum.

“Are you sure?”

“Wolffe I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

His eyes darken. A smolder of possessiveness and lust mists over his features. You spread your legs wider, as wide as you can to coax him forward. He growls as his hands latch so tightly around your hips they may as well be a part of you. He may as well be a part of you now, with the way he’s entrapped your mangled heart. He flips you onto your stomach, then pulls your back up flush to his chest. He kneels behind you, rutting his cock against your sopping cunt. One hand stays firmly planted to your hip, the other cups your throat, lifting your chin to straighten your gaze.

“Kriff…. eyes UP mesh’la. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Oh.

You look up, eyes catching his in the mirror in the corner of your room. He smirks, bending to trace feather-light kisses down your neck to the edge of your shoulder. He’s all-encompassing behind you, hands acting as a literal tether to this plane of existence. Without his firm grip you’d be sure to ascend towards the stars. He drops his hand from your face to line himself up, bottoming out in one growling thrust. You scream, pitching forward with the aggression of it. He scoffs, catching your throat in his hand once more to press you back into his battle-scarred chest.

“Keep looking at me mesh’la. Watch me take what’s rightfully mine.”

He cants his hips upward, rocking you right along with him. In a flash of teeth and tongue he marks your shoulders and neck. The work he does to your skin is maddening. He can feel how your flesh hungers for him. From the slight tremble of your stomach to the shrill whines you can’t help but emit as he fucks up into you. His pace is borderline abusive. You knew he was holding back all those months ago… but this? This was a side of him you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to. You watch your tits bounce sharply upward with each thrust. His fingers are still clamped around your jaw to force you to watch in the mirror. You look so innocent under his blasphemous eyes; pupils like pinpricks in the velvet of his amber irises. He rakes his gaze over your body, eyes stopping to take in your twitching thighs. You can’t help but gasp at the sight of his cock disappearing between your legs with each thrust. His shaft shines so wondrously with your slick, making you groan with every sheathing press.

“Talk to me mesh’la, who’s…” He hisses, slapping your thigh when you clamp down around him. You don’t need him to finish his sentence. He wants you to fill your pretty little mouth with nothing but his name. To tamp out all the nights you were screaming someone else’s name into the nothingness of the room.

“Wolffe, Woooooolffe, AH—WOLFFE! More, I n-need more…”

Your wish is his command. Who would have thought? Someone like you commanding the ruthless, bloodthirsty commander Wolffe. You had him in the palm of your hand. Wrapped so tightly around your finger it would cut off the circulation. He would stop at nothing to give you anything and everything you want. No matter the cost.

“I got you… I got you… just don’t look away.”

He reaches down, pistoning within your tight walls as deep as he can go. You hold his wrists for support as he frantically circles your clit with his fingers. His name ricochets off the walls as your orgasm binds the two of you together. You find his eyes in the mirror as you squeeze his cock in the aftershocks of your bliss. A symphony of panting breaths and wet slaps is a sound you never thought you’d hear again. Not after… not after Echo. What a weird turn of events. Echo was now but an echo in your heart. Gone, but never forgotten. Forever bouncing within the confines of your psyche.

Wolffe slows and releases his bruising hold on you. You fall ungracefully forward onto the mattress. With a hum he flips you onto your back to grind himself back into you. You wrap your legs around his hips, whining as he bends to mark you as his own. Teeth marks cascade from your neck, down your shoulders and end with dark hickeys between your breasts. When he’s sure every scrap of skin is covered in his assault, he stills his hips to speak to you.

“I promise you, no matter what, I will protect you. I’m yours until my mind withers and my body has gone to its final resting place.”

You had never heard such passionate words from Wolffe before. When you search the recesses of your mind, you cannot come up with one moment you had shared where he sounded so natural. Its as if he was hiding his true self, sealing it away until he found the one. The one he would swear to defend and honor until his dying breath. His words, you realize, are a vow. In this moment you were equal parts flattered and pitying. Maybe this was another execution of the Makers ridicule.

You will ruin him just as you yourself are ruined. Tainted, fetid, diseased to the core of your spoiled soul. His love for you will know no bounds, and you will be forced to fall for someone who deserves more than a rotten excuse for a human being such as yourself. Maybe you deserve each other. That’s what you’ll keep telling yourself. Two broken people just trying to make it through this war-torn mess.

When your face scrunches up and tears well at the corners of your eyes, he begins to snap his hips forward once more. His body shimmers under the lights, a healthy sheen of sweat covering him from head to toe. You look just as wrecked as he does, you’re sure. All wet and out of breath and dying for him to finally finish inside of you. Symbolically it’s a pact. One that will either be the most beautiful or the most grotesque thing you’ve ever been a part of.

“Close mesh’la, so close for you. I’m going to fill you up. Over and over again. Keep you leaking my seed for days…weeks… kriff months if you’ll let me. I’ll breed you so good you’ll never walk again…”

He sucks in a breath as he cums, painting your insides with a swath of his release. In a memorized motion he’s grabbing one of your pillows to rest under your hips, just as he did so long ago. Too long ago, you think. A time where nothing hurt and you weren’t so deranged. Wolffe hovers above you, a smile on his face to rival Echo’s. The warmth of it finally melts the dam of your tear-ducts. He shakes his head, nuzzling into your neck to breathe in your scent.

“Shhhh, I got you. I got you.”

You’ve always known he’s got you. He’s got your head, your heart, your love. Every fiber of your being belongs to him now. You cannot escape the barbs of his wire-ridden heart. If it takes years, centuries, a millennia, kriff until the suns crash together and all life dissipates into the void… you’ll unwrap it with bloodied hands and a smile on your face. Because you’re in it now. No going back, no holding back. You’re together. Forever.

He leans up off of you, pulling out to head to the ‘fresher. He washes up for real this time, laughing at the mud he had unknowingly missed in his mad dash to your aide. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Another shiver of déjà vu slides down your spine. Tears spill from your eyes as you sob quietly into the air. When Wolffe comes back, he frowns.

“Are you okay? Was I too rough?”

You shake your head, hiccupping as you reach out to him. He nods, climbing into bed with you once more. Wrapped snuggly around you, he coddles you to his chest as you weep. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re crying, but he knows it’s a good cry. A release of something greater than you and him.

You’re crying because…

You’ve finally let Echo go.

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Wolffe is true to his word. Whenever he can get his hands on you, you’re left a dripping pile of limbs on your bed. He doesn’t care how long it will take, he’s going to make you his. Parade you around with a belly full of a creation all his own. You don’t mind this arrangement one bit. When you let Echo go, you began to feel a lot better about your choices in life. You’d done something horrible, but what good does dwelling on the past do now? He was gone. You were going to honor him by having a child. You were going to name it after him too, somehow…

Work had contacted you a long time ago to let you know you’d be able to take as much time as you needed. With Wolffe occupying much more than just your time, it was hard for you to leave the apartment to do anything. You’d go back in due time, if you could ever get Wolffe’s dirty paws off you long enough. Work was admittedly the furthest thing from your mind right now. If you had to choose between getting laid whenever you wanted and shoving thermometers into people’s orifices all day, by the Stars you were going to pick getting laid. Every single time.

One morning, about a month after your reunion with Wolffe, something odd happens. It’s something that’s happened before. You need to pee all the time. Your nipples are sore. You’re feeling sick more often than not. If this is it, you’re sure as HELL not going to check. The knowledge that you’re pregnant again was enough to solidify your feelings. Don’t jinx it! You tell yourself. If you take the test, you’ll surely lose it again. Just go with the flow…

A few weeks go by and your condition gets progressively worse. You’re throwing up every morning, craving an odd mix of icecream and pickles, and sleeping on the couch more often than not. Wolffe asks you about it one day, reserved excitement in his voice.

“Mesh’la… are you… you know?” He raises his eyebrows, smirk on his lips.

“If I SAY it, it won’t be true. I’ll go to the medbay next week to check. Okay? Now help me with dinner, I’m starving.”

“Oh? Hmm, well, if you’re not sure then we still have something to do before dinner. Don’t we?”

You squeal as he chases you to the bedroom. Oh well, dinner can wait. There’s something a lot more filling on the menu tonight.

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The doctors visit goes very well. Wolffe, always the nosy worrying man, accompanies you to the visit.

“I’ll say, you’re about six weeks along! Do you want to hear the heartbeat? We can do an early ultrasound if you’re up to it. If not, I’ll schedule your first checkup a few weeks from now and we can do it then.”

Wolffe looks like he’s seen a ghost. You can’t stop laughing as you give the doctor the okay to search for the baby’s heartbeat. When the sound of a tiny whump fills your ears, Wolffe is the first to break down. Tears fall from his eyes, which he tries desperately to bat away with the back of his hand. You reach up, running your thumb over the scar under his eye.

“Wow. That’s our baby in there? I can’t wait to meet them… I hope it’s a boy.”

You laugh even harder, much to the doctors dismay. She asks you to stop jostling around so much, and you giggle into your hand.

“Sorry! First time parents. I’m sure you know how that goes.”

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Your first and second trimester go by without a hitch. You were already thirty weeks along and getting bigger by the day. When Wolffe is blessed enough to spend the whole night with you, he marvels at the size of your swollen belly when he wakes. You’ve caught him on more than one occasion with the blankets lifted and his hand on your tummy. He would say he needs the extra energy from the baby in the morning. Something about letting it kick his hand a few times gave him a high for the rest of the day. He would have been bragging about you to the others, but in all honesty you were trying your best to keep your relationship on the down-low. You were sure no one would really care, but some might find it in poor taste to be moving on from Echo and siring a child so soon after his death. And with one of his friends at that.

You shake the thoughts from your head. Of course they’d be happy. They’re always happy for you, no matter what you did. You were Echo’s pride and joy. You could do no wrong in their eyes. You deserved this. A happy life with someone who loved you. And with someone you…

“Mesh’la? You awake? I’m going out to get more of that icecream you like so much. It looks like someone ate the rest of it in the night. Wonder who did that…”

The teasing lilt of his voice makes your heart swell. He was always on top of stuff like that. Out of icecream? He’s off to pick some up. Can’t reach your datapad? He’s handing it to you. Can’t find your fuzzy socks? He’s scouring the laundry room for them. A doting partner, you knew he’d be the best father to your child. He would get so put out when you’d jokingly say: “I think I’m the first person to successfully domesticate a Wolffe!”

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He had been nervous at first about the real-world implications of a child. Though you had come to find out his worries were a little stupid.

“What?! You’re about to have a kid and your biggest worry is if Adi will be scared of your eye?!?” You’re hysterical, a fit of enthusiastic giggles bellowing from your mouth. Wolffe does NOT find it as funny as you do. You knew he was self-conscious about his scar, but this was too good not to laugh at!

“Of COURSE I am! A lot of people think it’s scary. Hold on… who’s Adi? You’ve named her already? Without me?” He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. Ugh! With the way he acted sometimes you’d think you were going to have two children running around in a few months.

“Yeah, I did! Got a problem with it scary-eye?!” He reels back in mock astonishment at your words. Squinting his eyes, he walks you backward towards the bed.

“Scary-eye huh? I thought you were going to tell me it’s not so scary up close…” He bends forward to muffle his words against your neck. You moan, over-sensitive nerves jolting at the contact.

“It’s not! It makes you look handsome, grizzled, like you could kill someone with your bare hands. She’ll love it as much as I do!” He wraps you up in his arms, falling lightly to the mattress with you atop him. It’s a little uncomfortable, so he helps you sit up on his stomach. He beams up at you, dazzling in its splendor.

“How am I not hurting you right now? I’m like… a thousand pounds at least!” He threads your fingers together, running his thumb over your knuckles.

“You’re definitely not a thousand pounds. Two thousand more like it…” He snickers as you rip your hands out of his to smack his chest playfully. You feel a bit of a bulge against your ass and gasp.

“Really? First you insult me, and then you poke me in the ass with your hard-on? Unreal… I have half a mind to kick you out for the rest of the night.”

Wolffe sits up, sliding you lower to rut against your clothed center. He nips at your throat, blowing into your ear deliberately. You squeak, glaring at him as he tugs at your shirt.

“Hush now love, let me take care of you. I can’t help it when my riduur is on top of me. You’re even more beautiful carrying my child… so kriffing gorgeous.”

That night you allow him to show you just how beautiful he finds you. He treats your body like a temple, and his cock as his penance. The conversation is left unfinished, though you weren’t planning on telling him why you chose the name Adi for her. You had promised yourself it would be a name to honor Echo in some way. And what better name than the one he used when speaking about your child together?

Our little adi’ka… yeah…

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A comm wakes you from a deep sleep. Wolffe grumbles next to you, shifting to slap his hand groggily against the nightstand. When he can’t find it, he makes a noise of frustration. He stands, trudging to the pile of armor on the floor near the bedroom door. His vambrace twinkles to life as he walks out of the bedroom in an attempt to let you go back to sleep. You hear a voice blip over the relay, it sounds strained in an attempt to be as quiet as possible.

Wolffe? It’s Rex. Are you on base? It’s…. it’s Echo. He’s alive Wolffe. I have him here with me, and… kriff. He wants to see her. You’re with her right? We’ll be touching down in the morning at 0700, hangar bay two, spot fifteen. If you can… if she wants… yeah. I’ll let her decide.

Wolffe drops his vambrace noisily to the floor, head in his hands. You can’t believe your ears. Echo? ECHO IS ALIVE?! You jump from bed as fast as your bloated body can manage. Wolffe snaps his head towards you as you enter the living room, sorrowful eyes drilling into yours. You didn’t want to think too hard about how Rex knew he’d be with you.

“Mesh’la I’m—I—”

You fall into his arms. Crying in this moment would be a normal reaction, but all you can do is stand there mystified. How can he be alive? They had told you he was blown to smithereens defending a starship. Where had he been? You glance down at your stomach, realizing why Wolffe had looked so doomed in the early-morning luster of dawn. Echo is back. But you’re not the same person he once knew. He’s back and you’re gone.

You resolve then and there to meet him. See him. If only to make sure he’s alive with your own two eyes. Whatever happens after that happens. If he wants you back… well, you’d see how it all went down. Wolffe was skittish about the whole ordeal. He didn’t think seeing your long-lost soulmate was good for your health. You didn’t think anything in your life was good for your health. What was one more shock to the system?

The hours ticked on, taunting you in their slow march forward. You dressed and had a silent breakfast with Wolffe. Nothing much was eaten by you. Wolffe didn’t each much either, moping in his seat as you mentally steel yourself for the meeting. He dressed after breakfast, suiting up just in case he was needed after. The feeling of his armor fit snugly to his body made him feel much more prepared than he really was. Like the armor could hold him together as he fell apart inside.

You stand together in the hangar bay as other clones mingle about, awaiting their shuttles off world. Some waved to you, others stared with puzzled looks on their faces. Wolffe was quick to stare them down and shoo them away. At least he was good at keeping people from putting two and two together. When a silvery ship lands in spot fifteen, you turn your body away abruptly. Was this really what you wanted? Wolffe slips his hand in yours, squeezing a couple of times to remind you he’s not going anywhere.

And then you hear it.

Echo is approaching you from behind, and you can’t for the life of you turn around. You recognize his footsteps, you know them all too well. Memories come falling from the sky to cut into you like knives. They were his excited footfalls, the same sound you would hear when he’d come home. The same sound you’d hear when you’d surprise him on base, or when he’d see something that enticed him in a market stall, or…

STOP!

You can’t do this right now. Wolffe steps forward, a concerned knit in his brow. His stance is protective, shielding you from Echo’s sight. You guessed Wolffe didn’t immediately recognize Echo from the way he was reacting. This thought terrified you to your core. Was he that different?

Your feet shuffle slightly as you rotate. When you finally face him, his steps turn from excited to reserved. His eyes flicker with recognition, then confusion, and finally… finally when he sees the rounded jut of your stomach does he come to a dead stop. He flinches at the sight, like someone just dug their fingers into his chest to peel all the hope from his beating heart. He knows it’s not his baby.

You stare wide-eyed at the person in front of you; an amalgamation of machine, madness, and a touch of the man you loved. A scream threatens to ripple up your throat, but you clamp your mouth shut tight. Your teeth grind in protest against each other with the sheer force of it. His breath is shaky, lips parted in hushed wonder at the miracle before him. He looks dead. A corpse re-animated to strike the final, fatal blow to your fragile little body. The pallor of his cheeks, the sunken sockets that house his dark lifeless eyes, and his bones! How they poked from his iridescent skin like a baby chick about to hatch.

In some sick twisted fantasy you hoped your Echo would do just that; tear kicking and punching and screaming from within this spindly thing in front of you. He would shake off the tallow and blood from his fleshy cocoon with a smile, the crumpled heap of the man in front of you left discarded on the floor with a shake of his leg. He’d laugh and say something like ‘Hey mesh’la, I’m sorry I took so long to return to you. You look as lovely as ever!’ You wanted him, the real him back. If Wolffe was worried about your child’s reaction to his eye… you shuddered to think how Adi would react to Echo. This has to be a sick twisted joke. Maker be damned, you would search to the ends of space and time just to strangle the one responsible for your never-ending curse. You will never know true peace again.

“You’re…” Wolffe whispers, staring slack-jawed at Echo.

“…Echo.” You finish his sentence, hands instinctively laying atop your stomach as the baby starts to kick. Maybe it can feel him. His presence, his aura, his futile hope that you’d still be here waiting for him.

Rex catches up, smiling fondly at you before turning his attention to Wolffe.

“We found Echo here on Skako Minor. Awful place… he’s gonna hang out here a few days before getting discharged to clone force ninety-nine.”

Echo has stopped breathing. He can’t stop staring at your face. He’s trying to memorize your features. This is it. He knows you’re gone. You start to hyperventilate under his intensity, clutching your chest and stumbling back. Wolffe panics, scooping you up into his arms and all but runs to the medbay. Over his shoulder you watch Echo and Rex follow after you. He looks so hurt, so useless and angry. You can only hope it’s nothing directed at you.

--------------------

“Sooooooo… Wolffe huh?”

Echo is in your bedroom, prodding at all the new knickknacks Wolffe had picked up for you on his missions. A small Loth-cat plush catches his eye and he picks it up. He squeezes it a couple of times, using it as an excuse not to look at you. You sit up straighter against the headboard, pulling the blankets over you. You feel so bare right now, exposed and embarrassed of your stomach while he’s here.

“Y-yeah. I guess. I mean… yes.” You fumble over your words. His voice alone was enough to make you bristle. Over a year without him felt like a lifetime AND only a day at the same time. It was him, you knew. But the bolts in his head and the cold exoskeleton around his middle told you all you needed to know. He had gone through hell and back to return. And now he’s returned right back to HELL.

“That’s… nice. I’m glad you found someone after I ‘died’, hah. I was hoping for it… honestly! I was. I didn’t want you to be alone. I know how you get when I’m gone for longer than a few days. I mean… GOT! Got.” He cringes, scratching the back of his head. You know he should have stayed in the medbay when you were checked in for a panic attack. He was pushing himself just so he could attempt to catch up with you. Your heart starts to crack.

“I know… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry Echo. I mourned you so hard I thought I was dying. I don’t… I don’t know what to do…” You wring your hands out in front of you, biting your lip. He sighs, placing the plush back onto your dresser. Footsteps startle the two of you from your conversation. Wolffe shows up in the doorway, a plate of cookies in his hand.

“Do you uh… want anything? I brought some cookies.” He shrugs, eyes cast down towards his feet. Echo smiles, shaking his head somberly.

“Oh, thank you, but I think I should get going. I have a lot of… tests to go through I’m sure. You know how much they like to stick you with needles after every little scrape. Well, I’m sure I’m in for a whole lot of needles after THIS scrape.” He motions to his body, a goofy smile on his face.

You want to stop him, but you don’t say anything. You don’t laugh at his self-deprecating joke. You don’t walk him to the door. You don’t wave goodbye as he heads back down the hall towards the medbay. Instead, you sob into the blankets with a cookie in your hand and Wolffe at your side. You let him leave.

He wanted you to stop him. He wanted to tell you that you made him feel better AND worse at the same time. He wanted to scream, cry, throw hands with Wolffe for taking his whole life away from him at the drop of a hat. He wanted to tell you that the only reason he held on was a tiny voice in his brain that willed him to live. YOUR voice in his head egging him on, telling him it was all going to be okay in the end, just get through today. Over and over and over until someone comes to find him and save him from his eternal repetition. You let him leave. That was enough of an answer for him.

--------------------

You kick Wolffe out of your apartment that night. He understands, even if his eyes plead you to allow him to stay.

“I don’t think this is a good idea. You’re so far along… what if the stress…”

You turn, throwing a leftover cookie in his general direction. He winces as it makes contact with his chest to fall at his feet.

“STRESS? Stress is my only state of being Wolffe. It’s the only constant in my whole kriffing life, always has been and always WILL be. Shut up and get out!”

He nods, swiftly taking his helmet in his hands. You follow him to the door, watching him leave with his tail tucked between his legs.

“Mesh’la I… I love you.”

You blanch. This was exactly NOT the time you wanted to hear him say those three little words for the first time. He was using them as a means to an end, NOT to make you feel any better.

“Okay. I’ll comm you when I want you to come back.”

His breath catches in his throat at your nonchalance. He just said he loved you… but you didn’t say it back.

“Understood.”

He places his helmet onto his head, swiveling on his heel to walk down the hallway back to the common barracks. You weren’t sure when you’d be ready to see him again. Right now you didn’t feel ready for anything. What were you going to do now? Comm the medbay and ask for Echo to come back? Comm Wolffe and tell him you love him back? Curl up and die on your mattress from the soul-crushing weight of the decision?

In the end, the third option sounded the most plausible. Other than the dying part, of course. You start to sob, hormones raging through your body as Adi kicks your ribs.

“Hey kiddo. If my heart shatters again I’m gonna need you to keep kicking me. Just like that. You’ll be my new heartbeat, what do you say?”

You sniffle as you look down at your stomach, rubbing soothing circles over your navel. Your eyes travel timidly over to the closet. You know you shouldn’t do it. When did you ever NOT do something you shouldn’t? Do someone you shouldn’t?

You procure a stepstool from your kitchen, sobs getting louder and louder as you drag it to the bedroom. The closet light flickers to life as you step up and throw an arm towards the back of a shelf above your head. Your fingers catch on a dusty cardboard box, and you bring it down from it’s hiding place. The scribbled name of Echo on the top beguiles you, lulls you into a false sense of security. You find yourself wailing, sinking to the floor with the box in your lap. With shuddering breaths you pull his old blacks from their coffin, lifting them to inhale. They smell like musty fabric and betrayal…betrayal…BETRAYAL.

You tear your shirt off and pull the blacks over your head. The bottom hem catches, stretched to it’s limit over your rounded stomach. With a few tugs you try your best to get it over the curve with no success. It sits halfway over your bump, a failed attempt to be encased in Echo’s love one more time. For the second time a myriad of realizations hit you in the face. He will never be there to hold you close, kiss your tears away, or make you laugh so heartily like you used to. Even though he was literally less than a hundred feet away and more than willing to come back to you. You were sure you could never fess up to him. Could never tell him of the deceitful creation before Adi. It would break his heart like his death broke yours.

In the muted sanctuary of the night, on hands and knees, your heart shatters into a million pieces all over again.

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