So um... my mom's in the hospital today and I just... could I maybe have a quick drabble of fives or Rex comforting the Reader... I'm home alone and don't have anyone hear to do it.... it would just be nice idk. Love ur writing. Thanks
(Of course, love, I really hope she’s okay - I totally know what that’s like. Hope you feel better soon!)
It’s when you start snapping atcleaning droids that you realize: you need a rest. It’s not like thedroids care about being yelled at, but still – you need a rest. Youcan’t go on like this. Without a word to anyone, you throw down yourbroom and run from the deserted battle bridge.
The job of night janitor on a Jedicruiser isn’t exactly a prestigious one, but it gives you plenty ofquiet time. Usually that’s a good thing, but not now. Not tonight.
With a tired sniffle, you collapse ontothe bench in your ‘office’ (really just a closet with a chair) andtake the paper out of your pocket again.
By this time, the edges are wornragged, but the letters, written in the neat hand of a clone officer,are just as visible.
Your homeworld’s been invaded, and theSeparatists have taken the capital. Where your family is. Tears bluryour eyes and you lean your tired head back against the wall.
“Um, hello?” The voice is familiar(how could it not be) but uncertain. Gasping, your eyes fly open andyou hurriedly wipe the tears from your cheeks.
“S-sorry,” you sniffle, standingup. “I’m sorry, I know I should be working, I-”
“Hey, no, it’s fine,” the clonesays, stepping into the closet. He’s dressed in grey off-dutyclothes, and there’s a goatee on his chin and a number tattoo on histemple. “Don’t be sorry. You alright?”
You want to say yes, to say you’refine, thank you. But looking at him – kind eyes, full of concern –your face crumples with fresh tears.
He glances sideways, looking a littleuncomfortable – but then steps closer to you. “Shh,” he says.“Come here. It’s alright.” And despite the fact that you don’teven know his name, you’re perfectly happy to lay your head on hischest and let him hug you. You need a hug.
“I’m s-so sorry,” you mumble. “I’mgetting tears all over you – sorry, here -” You start to moveaway; he sets both hands on your shoulders.
“I, uh, I know I’m just a clone,”he says, “but is there anything you wanna talk about?”
You dry your eyes. “Just a clone? Whydoes that matter?”
“I -” he stops; sits down and patsthe bench next to him. “Never mind, I guess. So…what’s wrong? Idon’t usually find people crying in the closet in the middle ofsleeping hours.”
You sit on the bench beside him, andtake a shuddering breath. “Just…the war, I guess. My – myhomeworld, my family…”
Seeing tears threatening again, hewraps an arm around your shoulders. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Arethey…”
He doesn’t finish the statement, but hedoesn’t have to.
“I don’t know,” yousay miserably. “That’s the problem. All I know is it’s beeninvaded, and I’m sure as hell not going to get news of my family wayout here.” You set your chin in your hands. “I’ll be alright. Whoknows? We might even head there if I’m lucky.”
Hedoesn’t offer advice – probably he doesn’t know what to say – butjust telling someone makes you feel so much better. You’d beenholding it in all day, and nobody noticed except the droids. You tellhim so, and he snorts.
“Well,I know that feeling,” he says. “Just…keep your chin up, Iguess. And…sorry, what was your name again?”
“Y/N,”you say with a watery smile. “I’m Y/N the night janitor.”
“Fives,”he replies. “ARC trooper.”
“Really?”Your eyes widen.
“It’s,um, not a big deal,” he says, clearing his throat. “Listen, Ineed to get some sleep before we land, but if you need someone totalk to again -”
“I’lltry to find you,” you finish. You stand and take up your broomagain. “Thank you…Fives.”
As heleaves, he winks one brown eye. “No problem.”
