the two of us went up in smoke
pairing: plo koon / reader
word count: 998
summary: you knew the clones were going to turn on the jedi, but he didn’t believe you.
req: for the playlist event, could i gently request burning house w the resident dilf plo koon? - @aenaxes (from playlist drabble requests)
a/n: O W W was my first reaction when i saw this request but then i chuckled maliciously and realized that i can control just how much pain i can bring to this prompt hehehehehe. listen to this song to feel all the pain i did
warnings: major character deaths, order 66 goes as planned, no fluff here
you should have taken him with you when you left.
watching the fire build around the crashed aethersprite, your heart plummets. there’s so much death, so much destruction happening on all sides of the galaxy. force bonds are breaking rapid fire and it’s all you can do to stay on your feet as you make your way to the blade of dorin, doing your best to avoid the molten debris scattered around.
“plo! plo, can you hear me?! plo!” you scream into the smoky air, not caring who hears you. all that matters is finding him and getting him away from the men who turned on him. your ship was nearby and even if there wasn’t enough medical equipment to help you, there was still the force. it would help you heal one of its most devout jedi, you were sure of it.
a bout of choked coughing penetrated the building smoke and your heart skipped a beat. “plo! hang on, my love! i’m coming for you! i’m coming!” you could only hope that he was still breathing by the time you freed him from his durasteel prison. the hum of your lightsaber is oddly reassuring as you slice through the ship, its white glow a security blanket reassuring you that you have power here. the power to do what, you had no idea.
his breathing is shallow; the smoke inhalation and the oxygen itself are choking him, and you see a pool of blood mingling with the fuel of his ship. it was bound to explode sooner rather than later and it made your rescue all the more pertinent.
once enough of him was showing, you tried to pull him out. his breathing turned into a few grunts and groans as you tugged, his body feebly trying to help you. but it was no use; he was stuck on something or you were just too weak from the assault the force is staging against your brain. you fall to your knees next to him, your free hand stroking his face in a vain attempt to comfort him.
“leave me, starlight,” he moans. you can’t fathom how much pain he’s in and every moment you spend dwelling on it only weakens you further so you ignore it for now. “run, save yourself-” he’s cut off by his own coughing and if your heart wasn’t already in shambles it would have been after that.
there are tears clouding your vision, sobs and smoke both having cold hands around your throat. “no! i left you once, plo! i won’t do it again!”
“you- you must, swe-sweet one,” another bout of coughing interrupts him. his mask is cracked and partly hanging off his face, and one of his silver eyes is visible, wet with tears shed and unshed. “they- they’ll kill you-” you don’t care about them killing you, but plo? the one that has sacrificed life and limb for that entire battalion doesn’t deserve to be gunned down by the very men he trusted with his life.
the thought fills you with a renewed vigor and even though your entire body is screaming at you in pain, you keep pulling because you have to save him. every moment you’ve shared with him plays through your head as you pull; every gentle tough, every night spent in his arms, all of it somehow gives you the strength needed to just barely pull him out. he’s in your arms and out of the aethersprite, that much closer to fleeing the battle and escaping to your ship. “we can do this! we can get out of here, come on!”
you’re supporting the entirety of his weight as you try to hobble away from the wreckage, not even comprehending the gash on your leg until you fall to the charred ground. “plo! i can’t do this on my own, you have to help me!” if you can’t walk, you’ll drag him. you just have to escape. it’s one of the only thoughts in your head, taking turns with if they find us they’ll kill us both and i can’t let him die like this.
you tried to warn plo once your nightmares started turning into premonitions in the middle of the day. “the troops will turn on us,” you remember telling him, close to hysterical tears, “none of us are safe!” but he didn’t listen, and now the force is crying out in anguish as its children are slaughtered with no one able to stem the flow of their blood.
an explosion from mere feet behind you shakes your bones. it was dorin’s blade, now only a ball of durasteel and inferno. the fire was spreading, slowly starting to catch onto the dried greenery around where you and plo lay. but you persisted, even though it was at a snail’s pace you were still trying to save him.
once more you try to stand. you think you’re being cautious of the leg with the gash but as you go down once again, you’re unsure. but you do know that you’re screaming; not words, just a broken, feral wail let loose into the howling wind.
when people talk about the loss of a strong force bond, they say that the first moments of it feel different for everyone. it could be forlorn silence, boiling anger, anything. it’s why they were discouraged between those that weren’t master and padawan, but you didn’t care before. this fall wasn’t caused by the wounded leg. it was the sheer magnitude of your most important bond breaking that felled you, had your throat going raw in grief.
your grief blinded you to what was happening around you. his name was on your lips, in the air expelled from your aching lungs, every molecule of your being. you cradled his body as your world fell apart, the loss of your love the only thing you could focus on as the grey-painted trooper confirmed that he was, in fact, a good soldier.
plo koon taglist: @the-studious-porg @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @captainrexstan @mackstrut @getdookuedon @artemis61003 @capricornrabies @jedi-mando @whovianwar @hornystarwarsbisexual @janebby
