Something Wicked This Way Comes

[Sadie K'Vesh]

She hovered somewhere. Weren't quite consciousness, but not entirely unaware either. Sadie knew her damn arm hurt once again like a supreme son of a kath, and that elsewhere some shards of broken glass were lodged in places they had no right to be, but she was there. And yet... not there. Drifting between that oddball place of awake and not, conscious and yet oh so gorram blissfully ignorant. She could still hear Bog somehow through the haze, in a voice that weren't his but yet belonged to him. And then there was Vittore, not just his replies but his perceivable light of defiance that was trying to guide her out of whatever void she was plummeting in to. Then she felt pain. Not her own, no, this belonged to someone else, someone her heart and soul had bound itself to.

That were the truth, weren't it? Not something Sadie had wanted to go and admit since it sounded all kinds of shades of sap and lame and whatever else nonsense holovids made up, but she'd felt it. Felt it almost as soon as she'd been coherent enough to talk with Vittore that very first time. The Force had brought them together, tied them in a knot so damn complex and tight that it was gonna take some sort of damned miracle to separate them. Or maybe the knot had only been started and by tugging and twisting and trying to defy it they'd only locked it down. Whatever. It was there. And despite all them notions of not intruding on Vitt's privacy, Sadie couldn't help but feel him. Same way she felt the very notes and coding of the galaxy go and make sense of itself.

And so she felt it. Felt Bog'el trying oh so hard to crush the very thing he could never understand underneath durasteel and raw power. It was something Sadie hadn't gone and understood until recently either. Vittore, as tangled up in herself as he was, he weren't the extent of it. There were others that were coming - she could feel them on the edges of her vision. Father, mother, uncle... They were coming for her.

Maybe that was the thought that lulled her back into the blackness, the one that let that void wrap oh so pleasantly around her and tug and pull her ever down.

But the void weren't alone.

It weren't a voice, just a sensation. An annoyance, a brief glimpse of a person with brown hair, a man with a haughty attitude but the skill to back it up. His was the first hand that grabbed around her and began to tug back. Oh no you don't. Sadie couldn't help but find some amusement in the downright refusal that was given to the unfamiliar being. He was happy and yet not and it was complicated but whoever he was, he was dragging her back.

The void demanded her surrender, however, tugging her deeper in defiance of this unknown protector. Then... There was another, at her other side. This she knew. And the green clad, blonde haired Jedi that she found at her side came with a name that was lost to her then but she knew him. Had met him. Mandan...? Yes. That was him. But what was he doing here? She hadn't seen him since she was barely able to walk... He was a friend of her father's and he joined the other man in trying to pull her back. Come on, Sid!

Yet the sweet surrender to the unconscious still called. Give in, it beckoned. Sleep.

It was then a third came to her, unfamiliar and yet... the dark haired woman Sadie knew was not of her blood, not of ties of friendship that made family and yet... Please. The woman offered, a hint of darkness to her words that was both frightening and alluring. Please. Help him.

Together the trio of spirits, of hallucinations, of illusions - whatever you wanted to call them - pulled her back. Tugged and strained and urged and Sadie found her eyes opening to mess of glass and toppled groceries around her as she coughed, forced air back into her lungs. Fine. This fight weren't over yet.

[Vittore Montegue]

Vittore coughed blood as the next blow landed, so frequent and forceful that his body had long since turned numb. That was a bad sign, he knew that, but for a few fleeting moments he was glad of the peace, the Zabrak's onslaught little more than buffeting his already punch-drunk perceptions.

The peace was not only physical: it came hand in hand with his resignation as well. In his line of work, there was an expectation that your days were numbered. Perhaps it would be a hunt gone wrong. Perhaps a double-cross by a client who didn't want loose ends. For Vittore, as with many others, it was the one that got away, returning to repay what was owed. It was the end that Vittore had always expected, perhaps feared, even. It was the root of his ruthless certainty, the cause of his reputation for leaving no survivors, leaving no potential avengers. It wasn't efficiency though, it was a precaution against his guilt. He had killed husbands and wives, sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, friends, comrades, loved ones, leaving all manner of loss and heartbreak in his wake. It was only a matter of time before that overdue justice caught up with him, and if it chose to do so now?

He wasn't ready. Of that, he was certain. Perhaps he'd never be ready, not as long as his heart belonged to Sadie K'Vesh. But if he had to die, if he had to meet his end, if a monster had to force him to breathe his last? This was an end he could live with. Die with. Whatever. Dying for her. Dying for them. Dying to stall for time until someone who wouldn't fail could arrive. He smiled vaguely at the notion, catching glimpses of his surroundings through his one good eye. He could see them in the distance, or at least thought he could. Father, Mother, Uncle. He saw Sadie through the window she'd been thrown through, still alive, still moving. The others would be there somewhere. The Boss. The Kid. He felt something familiar too, something protective, something watching.

One last chuckle escaped from him.

"Sorry, buddy," he wheezed, mouth splitting into a bloodied grin. "Time's up."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

This was all gonna hurt like all seven hells and then some in the morning. Sadie weren't quite sure why that was the thought that was coming to her as she got back to her feet and grabbed hold of of them particularly meaner shards of glass that she'd been so wonderfully thrown through that'd decided to stick around. Pulling it from herself was easier than expected and the girl went and found herself almost laughing at the prospect of yet another damn handful of scars added to her body thanks to that overbearing psychotic former band mate. Why was it funny? That were probably all heaps of a bad sign, one of them things that certainly meant she should have stayed on the ground rather than pulling chunks of debris from her skin and staggering out of the full length window that weren't there no more.

Those struggled bits of laughter died right quick though when Sadie caught sight of what was still happening and she remembered this weren't just some squabble between her and Bog no more. Vittore. What in the right proper kriff was he doing? This weren't possible, Vittore Montegue didn't lose, not to no one! But that notion was challenged in the brief instant she heard him laugh, caught his eye. This weren't no loss, but it was something that didn't go and sit right with Sadie - ruined every last little bit of calm she had, truth be told.

She felt something going an switch inside her. Weren't like the fear was gone, but something was different; the cards shifted, the code rewritten, the octave changed. Somewhere a certain big guy's lessons came floating to mind. Two - Get off your ass, Three - Know your adversary. Great, shiny, she had them down. The others well, lessons and rules could be avoided and ignored at times she figured but Zero? Zero was sticking out to her. Know yourself. And who she was right then and there? Well, she weren't Sadie K'Vesh - Bog'el's little punching bag - no more. She was Saidra Ath-Thuban, Sadie Aamoran, and damn if she was gonna let this piece of utter cybernetic trash in the form of her past demons take away the first person in her whole damn life that'd really truly meant something to her. They weren't just words earlier, dammit, she well and truly loved and damn if that weren't enough of a reason to go and cause a scene.

Sadie could feel the others there, readying themselves to intervene, could feel her mother and uncle readying blasters, could feel her father's strength adding rhythm to her own. An understanding taking place. She weren't gonna fight alone, but this was on her. This was her battle. Not without or in spite of everyone else, but with them, for them even.

It didn't go and matter how or which of them were responsible for the way Sadie's hand reached out to the side and suddenly found itself wrapping around the comforting grip of Inyos' lightsaber. Didn't matter if it was the Jedi's teaching or Amaros' Mandalorian ways that caused her to surge forward towards Bog'el just as the Zabrak was about to lay out Vittore. Didn't matter if it was her voice or Elira's or Atton's that spouted some Alderaanian curse at him. Didn't matter because it was all the above.

Bog'el, upgraded and the right bastard he was, was ready though. Sort of. His arms crossed in front of him to meet the lightsaber's blade - some sort of metal that Sadie was gonna need to learn about prevented the saber from slicing through.

"Y' tried t' take everythin' from me!" She accused as the blade crackled off them bracers. Another strike for each word and her pace was picking up right quick, the Zabrak was using those same bits of himself to defend but anyone watching could see he was having trouble keeping up with the small humanoid girl. "My life, my music, my dignity!"

Her free hand pushed forward, power that Sadie didn't like really tapping into and right often couldn't made use of and Bog'el weren't exactly thrown, but the cybernetic beast certainly was shoved back a few paces, his feet barely keeping purchase on the ground.

"And y' can go and have 'em!" Small thing didn't know when to quit against the bigger meaner opponent, clearly, but Sadie had a right point to make. Her form weren't clean and it weren't pretty, but it was keeping Bog'el from knowing exactly where the blue blade was gonna hit next and damn if it weren't satisfying when he'd gone and miscalculated and Sadie found that sweet spot where the lightsaber resistant metal ended above his elbow and the metallic arm hit the ground with an oh so grand sound.

"But, y' sure as frak ain't taking him." Well now here came the disturbing bit, if Sadie were sitting outside herself. Sure, she'd killed before, but that'd been with a blaster and was mighty impersonal. Swinging that saber through Bog'el's neck and severing his head from his shoulders? Well... Yeah, she was pretty sure that was about as personal as a body could go and get. But she weren't done, oh hells no. With everyone watching, either proud or horrified or whatever opinion they had of her in that moment, Sadie followed through, the blue blade that belonged to her father piercing through the face of the Zabrak's severed head, going straight down through whatever remained of Bog'el's twisted damn brain and out the back of his skull to the floor of Cloud City beneath it.

"And y' ain't taking away my family." Last bit was hissed through clenched teeth and for a bit it seemed she'd stay there, maybe carve more of the remains of her tormentor to all sorts of pretty little pieces... but then the lightsaber was turned off and with it crashed out her adrenaline.

She didn't go and make a further scene by passing out or nothing like that, but the girl did fall to her knees and while quiet for a little, didn't take long for the laugh sobs to start. It was over.

[Inyos Aamoran]

* * *

Everything since that moment had been a blur. Perhaps it was the fledgeling status of her training, shields that they had not yet finished building insufficient to withstand the intensity of her emotions. Perhaps it was their connection, the bond through the Force that connected them across the stars, making it an impossibility for either of them to endure anything alone. Whatever the reason, he had felt every instant of it, every blow she had struck, every fury-filled ounce of vengeance that she had unleashed upon Bog'el Xcreth. There hadn't been a need for questions, or details: Inyos had experienced all the answers that were required. This was her abuser, her demon, the vile creature responsible for not all, but so much of Sadie's suffering. He was darkness, he was evil, and the galaxy was a brighter place for his shadow having been driven from it: and for all the toll it might take, Sadie deserved every raw and agonising moment of retribution that she had experienced. If anything, Inyos felt, with utter and unhesitant certainty, Bog'el deserved a far worse death than he had received. Through fragments of explanation, Inyos came to understand what Vittore had done to the man when last their paths had crossed. Vittore would not have given Bog'el the kind of swift end that Sadie had delivered; and as his thoughts strayed to the soldiers that had attacked Elysium, Inyos was certain that he would not have, either.

It did not sit right with him: not his willingness to see the Zabrak or others dead, but the absolute certainty, the lack of remorse, the absense of even the faintest shadow of doubt. Jedi were warriors, and during the war they had been soldiers: killing was no stranger to any of them, Inyos Aamoran least of all. He flinched as he thought of Ord Ithil, of the lives he had taken there, deaths that had filled him with regret and despair. Now he felt nothing. The deaths were transactional. Scores settled. Accounts balanced. He felt as indifferent as if they had been droids - and it troubled him that it did not trouble him. A Jedi could kill, yes, but they were meant to desire another path, and regret when one could not be found. Inyos did not. But then, Inyos had what a true Jedi did not. Attachments. Family. Something to lose. Fear of loss was the usual reason that the Jedi Order provided, when a Youngling asked why attachments were forbidden: but Inyos did not fear losing them, because he knew such a thing would not come to pass. He would not allow it, just as Sadie had not allowed it.

Her thoughts echoed in his mind. Y' ain't taking away my family.

It repeated in his mind like a mantra as he sat and watched, observing Sadie from a distance. She had barely left Vittore's side; they'd almost had to restrain her as Amaros Koine had lifted the unconscious and beaten Vittore and carried him away from the carnage that Bog'el's presence had wrought. Atton and Miss Shadowstar were elsewhere, working their connections and wiles to smooth over any legal entanglements that might result. A brawl in Port Town was barely worth mentioning, but two beheadings by lightsaber in different parts of the city was bound to raise a few eyebrows, and so care was being taken to ensure that such details were conveniently absent from any official reports. The rest of them had come here to the now-familiar clinic, trudging in escort and vigil of an emotionally drained Sadie and the bleeding Vittore. Through some cosmic coincidence, or perhaps grim humour from Doctor Dechen, Vittore had been placed in the same room that had once harboured Sadie, and Elira. A right of passage it seemed, when it came to the members of his family.

He spared a brief glance to each of them, scattered around the clinic surroundings. Amaros loomed by the main entrance, and Inyos could feel the bestial frustration that rolled off him in waves, insensed that he had played no part in the protection of his people and that such a thing could transpire on his watch, and standing ready to make amends the instant danger foolishly reared its head again. Nen Lev'i had adopted a similar guard post by the doorway to Vittore's room, and Inyos could see him fidget uncomfortably with the lightsaber that he hid beneath the discarded jacket in his lap - a subject for later enquiry, when emotions were less frought and frayed. The droid from the Jedi starfighter that had first brought Inyos to Cloud City and now reconstituted into a haphazard chassis, P13, waited silently beside his human master, one of the manipulator arms from his dome silently gripping the cuff of Nen's sleeve. Bumblebee, the Crimson Tide's medical droid, hunched over the medical displays in watch over Vittore's vitals, while the astromech Katie stood vigil in the corner of the room, sensors active, daring anyone unauthorised to encroach upon the space. Sleazy's exposed chassis was a stoic and unreadable as ever, but Inyos couldn't help noticing the absense of the usual beaten peaked hat that the droid typically wore, clutched in his hands rather than perched on his head. And there was Sadie, beside his bed as she had been for hours, clutching onto Vittore's hand as if it were a life raft, or as if he were hanging over the edge of a chasm and her grasp was the only thing stopping him from falling into oblivion.

And then there was Elira. Inyos felt the gentle touch of her hand on his shoulder, and he turned, his gaze first catching sight of the caf she'd just retrieved before it climbed to her features. The concern and worry painted across them was gentle, but sincere. He offered the smallest of fleeting smiles.

"No change," he said, in answer to the unspoken question. "But he is stable."

[Elira Asael]

Elira only nodded in reply, leaving the cliche token of That's good unsaid. It would only cheapen things and the entirety of the room seemed to demand she not make such useless statements. While the danger was over for now, after all, Elira had a feeling that everything was far from good. Within a span of time far too short to be reasonable, she had watched both her daughter and her lover kill someone. The first was alarming, and disheartening, the reasons she had sent Saidra away from everything in the first place and had Atton hide her seemed all for naught. Sure, the girl was alive and had not been subjected to the Empire's Inquisitors and others that hunted down the Jedi, but what had she traded it all for? It was supposed to give the girl a better life, one that wouldn't so tragically echo her own, for one. It was a failure of a sort and yet the little that Elira had learned of her offspring had taught her that Saidra was far stronger than Elira could ever possibly give her credit for. But still, there was knowing, and there was seeing. However, whether the being she had killed was monster or mortal, a horror from her past or not, Elira knew enough to know the death would stick with Saidra and she would be feeling that new scar, firmly etched in her mind, for a long time. It had good company, she figured. Right along side watching someone you cared for being beaten to the Corellian hells and back. Both were scars of a sort that Elira bared as well, after all, experience was the best teacher.

Still, she felt bad. All these thoughts came to her with a strange detachment that Elira would have had for any associate of hers, especially a valued one. It was far far from the maternal worry that the galaxy practically demanded she feel. There should have been guilt there, but it refused to come. Instead, she let the wonders about the child that had plagued her as she went and retrieved a cup of caf wander off and instead let her true concerns take forefront in her mind once she had returned to the waiting room with the others.

Inyos. No, he wasn't going through something quite as terrible as the life they had created, or the soul most dear to the girl, but Elira couldn't get his actions out of her mind. She had seen Inyos defend others before, even watched as he had ended a life or two. But today? That was different. That wasn't her Jedi, that wasn't the man whose memory she kept blissfully in her mind. Elira wasn't frightened by him, far from it, but she knew - much like the actions Saidra had taken to take a life today - the ones that Inyos had done would stick with him; though she doubted the Jedi would look as fondly upon the end of the life he had snuffed out.

She didn't know how to broach the subject, how to ask what had changed him, why he had changed. It could have been as simple as protecting my daughter; Inyos had after all taken to the parent role with a shine that suited him. But it wasn't that simple, of that little factoid Elira was entirely positive. It needed to be addressed though, like a bantha standing in the room, like an open wound that Elira refused to let be ignored to fester.

"How are you holding up?" It wasn't the direct approach she normally would have taken, but even the softer tone she used let Inyos know she wasn't exactly about to yell out What the vos happened back there in the bar?

[Inyos Aamoran]

It might have been a rhetorical question: Inyos had always struggled with that distinction, particularly when it came to Elira Asael. He had long ago chosen to stop trying, answering her inquiries regardless, often to her amusement if a response was not in fact wanted or expected. This time though, an answer was not easy to provide. How was he 'holding up', as if his mental state could be served by the same language as a hasty repair. He supposed it wasn't too much of a stretch: like mesh tape on a hull breach, his current calm was no doubt tenuous and misleading, likely to fail at a moment's notice with catastrophic effects.

Yet, as much as the rational part of his head was conscious of that fact, he failed to feel it in his heart, or wherever else his emotions were presumed to sit. He did not feel nothing, not the cold absence of detachment, or the dark void of depression; but what he did feel was negligible. He felt fine. Ordinary. Unphased. Perhaps it was denial. Perhaps it was distraction. Perhaps it only a matter of time.

For a quiet moment, he considered Elira's perspective, what she must have witnessed and how it must have seemed. Despite their connection, in truth Elira was practically a stranger, barely enough time having passed for her to grow familiar with Inyos as he was today. For the Inyos he had been, back in the days of the Jedi Purge, his actions were horrific, a betrayal of everything that man had stood for. That was a man who still clung to the teachings of the Jedi Order as if they were the only truths that could save him. That was a man beholden to his past, and fleeing his present. Inyos had learned much since then, and both he and the galaxy had changed. The Jedi - or at least, those of them he knew - had for the most part had abandoned all hope of returning to their past, and embraced a new tomorrow, a new way of being Jedi, one that could not for simple practicality be shackled by the same restrictions and regulations that the Order had been. There were Jedi with families, Jedi with children, Jedi who struggled openly with emotion and darkness, and that simply was a facet of who they were. The old Inyos might have looked at himself and seen something that no longer deserved to call itself Jedi, but the newer standards of Ossus were not nearly so harsh; and the new Inyos that he was now, who had lived through shadow, and emerged into the sunshine if family and fatherhood? To him it was nothing, his actions justified on a level far deeper and more fundamental than anything as trivial as the Jedi Code.

Even then, the resolve of old logics and old beliefs began to falter, as rationalisation spread through his thoughts like a plague. There is no emotion, there is peace, the Jedi Code taught, and in this moment, in this instant, that was what he felt. It had been there in the moment, that flash of emotion he had no name for, but just as the Code taught, that passion gave way to serenity. His actions, dark as they might have tasted, had conformed in some twisted way to the Code. That troubled him more than anything else, the texts and traditions that he had always believed to be unassailable suddenly finding new context and meaning when viewed from a certain perspective. Even deeper in his memory, there was a different variation, a precursor to the Code that painted the words differently. Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force. Still the words of the Jedi, still the fundamentals of the Code, and yet they painted an entirely different truth: the chaos of emotion and the harmony of peace in balance, not in exclusivity.

How was he holding up? His beliefs crumbled around him like decaying ruins. Undeniable truths turned to dust in his hands. Everything he had once believed himself to be no longer meant what it had. Yet he was fine. He clung to the one thing that remained, the diamond left behind when everything else eroded away. His daughter. His family. His duty to protect them. As a Jedi, Inyos ran, and hid, and failed, and faltered. As a father, he had done what needed to be done. For the first time in a long time, he had succeeded, not failed, in being who he was.

His hand raised to his shoulder, resting atop Elira's, a gentle but insistent plea for it not to move, not yet.

"I didn't lose anyone today."

The words struck at his heart like a hammer, harkening back to the last time Elira had asked such a question of him. Perhaps that was another part of it: Sadie was not only family, but his Padawan as well; perhaps today was as much about avoiding a repeated failure as it was an expression of fatherhood.

"I have been worse."

[Elira Asael]

"I know you have," Elira softly assured. It didn't need to be said, they both were well aware of exactly the incident Inyos referred to, but she still felt the need to let him know that she remembered just as much as he had.

It was true, though and for a moment Elira considered what would have been the results had the worst come to pass, had the bad guys won. She knew without a doubt that she would have been upset if Saidra had died, she wasn't so heartless as to think it wouldn't have effected her and caused unimaginable grief. But for Inyos? It would have been utterly devastating. A glimpse of darkness that resided somewhere within Inyos had been seen, for sure, but Elira could only begin to guess at the unspeakable that would have become the Jedi then. Thankfully, for everyone involved, it had not come to pass. And with the ragged band of individuals she saw around her, Elira was fairly certain it never would.

"What you did, it wasn't a bad thing, you know." There was the bluntness expected of her. "You protected us, just like you always did."

Uncorked, she couldn't help but add a little to it, just enough to let Inyos know it really was her opinion, not just empty words. She stepped towards him, moving her lips near his ear. "And to be honest, it was kinda hot."

The hand that rested against his shoulder squeezed a bit and she let her fingernails dig into the material of his coat. But the playfulness retreated almost as quickly as it had presented. Later. Much later, given the overall mood of the situation.

A soft sigh left her then as she moved from behind Inyos to stand next to him, a gentle nudge of her arm against his preceded her standing a little too close, not quite leaning against the Jedi but enough to more than let him know she was still there. Her attention shifted towards the room beyond, to the figure of their daughter still huddled next to the unconscious form of the bounty hunter.

"When you were gone, I did some research into things from my family's past, into things you always were talking about. That Jedi, the one my ancestor used to team up with? The quoteable one you always used on me? I learned more about her, the stuff the Jedi probably didn't want to teach but someone still found worth writing down. She was a mother, you know. Became one while she was a Knight, apparently. And you know what? It didn't stop her from being a Jedi, it didn't change her ability to be that, they didn't strike her from the books or shun her. The fact you still can even use her wisdom as teaching material proves that."

She wasn't sure what point she was trying to make entirely. Elira never had been one for lessons by stories, that was far more Inyos' domain. Her head nodded towards Saidra, hoping to bring the story to reason.

"You're really good at it, you know. The whole parent thing. Makes me sort of wish I had asked Atton to make sure she found her way to you. Then again, maybe he did anyway - just the long way around."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos could feel it, that attention to be closer, and the reluctant that came with it. There was too much of that, in this world and in this family. He felt it between Elira and Atton, gingerly trying to find their way back to the sibling dynamic they had once shared. He felt it between Sadie and Vittore, and look how that had turned out. He and Elira had stumbled and staggered their way through it, neither one fully honest with the other, both too cautious and too respectful to make it clear what either of them wanted.

His arm reached out to wrap around her waist, pulling her gently into the closeness that she denied herself. Enough was enough. Purely out of instinct, his head came to rest gently against hers, something he had witnessed, but never fully understood. When he had done so with Sadie, it had helped him feel closer to her, as if their minds or auras were somehow overlapping, but that he had rationalised as being part of the Force. In this moment, he learned it was something else: that it was the closeness itself that caused his heart to feel the way it did.

He let his eyes close as he considered Elira's words. She was right, of course. Ari'ana Leonis, Ra's Ath-Thu'ban, Bastila Shan, and countless other Jedi from millennia ago, all had families, and attachments, and their wisdom and Jedi nature was never questioned. The Jedi of Corellia were granted special leave to maintain their bloodlines. Even by the time of the Clone Wars, the Council granted a similar special exemption to Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, to aid in the survival of his species. Not every Jedi to sire a child was Anakin Skywalker; not every attachment was a cautionary tale. Perhaps he was wrong then, to simply set the past aside and look to the future. Perhaps what was needed was to look at the past more closely, to see what was truly there rather than the convenient interpretations that his mind thus far held.

Elira's final words he found harder to agree with, though. While certainly, Atton was perhaps as much to blame for he and Sadie's paths over the decades as the Force was, there was an unspoken implication in what Elira said that he rejected: that he was better at this, and that her choices were somehow wrong.

"I am not the man you knew back then."

The dismissal was gentle, but firm, seeking to dispel the notion from Elira's mind before it had the faintest opportunity of taking hold.

"And you are not the same woman. I was lucky: I did not know Sadie existed until she had already forged herself into an adult. When we met, what she needed from me was almost nothing, and by chance, I had found myself in a place in my life where I was ready to offer that. Though she has it, she does not need my protection, nor my wisdom, nor my guidance. I am a resource at her disposal, and our interactions are her choice."

His eyes had opened again, and watched Sadie as he spoke. She was no longer awake, no longer intently watching every rise and fall of Vittore's lungs, as if by sheer force of will she could ensure that each breath would be followed by another. Her hand had not released his however, and instead she slept, head lain beside it. Perhaps they should move her, try to usher her somewhere so her reluctant sleep might hold more value; but she would refuse, and Inyos knew that there was none among them - droids included - who would be able to bring themselves to tear her away.

"You did not have that luxury. You found yourself with a child you had not expected, and one you were not ready for, from a man who abandoned you. Your life, your parents, your childhood on Alderaan, had done nothing to prepare you to raise a child in that situation. Had you kept her, or been able to send her to me, we both would have found ourselves ill prepared and ill-equipped for that struggle, and that is without even considering the struggles we would have faced trying to help an infant embrace and understand her Force gifts while hiding from the Inquisitors. During my time with the Jedi, I have witnessed families who have given over their children to the Order. I have seen their struggles, and felt the weight of that decision, to make that selfless sacrifice of a part of themselves for what they believe is their child's own good. That is what you did, Elira: what you believed in your heart was right. When Sadie left your arms, that was where your control over her fate ended, and for better or worse?"

His arm pulled her the slightest bit closer.

"Look at her. Look at who she has become, purely through the strength of her own will. We played no part in that, but not even the Force can change such things: that is simply how life has unfolded for all of us. Even so, our daughter is remarkable, and we should feel proud - not of ourselves, but of her. Do not -"

He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly as sentiment snuck up on him and wrapped around his throat.

"Do not run away from the opportunity to love someone. To deny yourself that is a mistake that few are lucky enough to ever have the chance to undo."

[Elira Asael]

There were instances when Inyos had been speaking that Elira had wanted to interrupt him, to object, to say something offhand and off colour to keep him from continuing on. Instead though, she remained quiet. A laundry list of things she needed to hear let occur instead. Especially the last bit. It was a mistake she had made before, perhaps both of them had made before; only Inyos was learning from it whereas she was tiptoeing around it all. Maybe it came down to the fact she was being overly hard on herself. To hear Inyos spell out her own reasons and thought process to her - as if it were an unknown - put a spin on it all that sounded far less deserving of the weight of guilt it was that Elira had poured upon herself. To hear of the woes that Saidra had been through, to now even see the reality of what she had left her daughter to... But still, Inyos was right. He had that annoying ability to be so from time to time.

"I'd lie if I said I haven't tried to take an interest. It's the thing I'm supposed to do now, isn't it?" Another sigh left her and she allowed herself to lean towards the embrace she welcomed wholeheartedly.

Just trying to pick up the pieces with Inyos and Atton was proving hard enough. At least there she had some expectations, some things to fall back on? Sadira? Aside from some distant memories of the day the girl was born, Elira had nothing. She hadn't even wanted to hold her when she was born, knowing it might cement an attachment and question everything she had already decided to do. How was she supposed to reconcile that? To make up for that instant rejection. Much like how Inyos described his new found relationship with Saidra, it would have to be on the younger Ath-Thu'ban's terms as to when and how the two women interacted. But that was it... the nagging point that Elira found herself proud of and yet oh so hard an obstacle to overcome.

"She called you 'Dad' from the moment she found out. Not just when you are around, you know? Atton's told me and I've overheard. But me? I'm just 'Elira' when she's feeling generous. 'Captain' - pronounced proper like, mind you, not like she does with that boy of hers - 'Asael' more often than not."

[Inyos Aamoran]

"She already knew me."

It was a fact easily overlooked: that the Force had played a part in the reconciliation of Inyos and Saidra, drawing them both to Cloud City and steering them onto a path that had hurled them both into each other's orbits. It was a fact that Elira knew, but clearly one that she did not understand.

"I earned her trust as a complete stranger. I was a Jedi she vaguely recalled from her past, and I offered to train her. We connected. We bonded. She already knew me when we learned that our connection ran deeper, and by then the trust and relationship was already there."

He could feel Elira's frustration, her irritation. It was familiar, the kind of storm clouds on the horizon that had always prefaced Elira's venting rants in the past. It was a coping mechanism, and nothing deeper, and yet it clouded things, making the obvious harder to see and understand. There was a chance that the storm would merely blow over, leaving an opportunity for clearer skies in it's wake; but it could also grow, and fester, and Inyos would not tolerate a hurricane at the heart of his family, no matter how justified it might be.

"Your situation is different, and you cannot expect it to be otherwise. Sadie only knows you as her mother, and she has grown into a person who does not require that void to be filled. If she calls me dad, it is not because a Father is all I am to her: just as that man whose side she will not leave is more to her than just her Captain. They are words, balanced atop meanings that are deeper, and more complicated, and more personal than an obligatory honorific. She doesn't know you yet. She doesn't see you, not as anything more than the part you have played in your life so far."

Inyos' tone softened, and his embrace tightened, brow furrowing as he sought a safe path through this storm.

"You are a difficult woman to love, Elira Asael, but it is worth it. Do not blame our daughter for not realising that yet; and do not lose hope before she has the opportunity to."

[Elira Asael]

Whatever troubles her thoughts had been building with her, whatever growing tirade was preparing to launch... It all became undone in an instant. Shoulder muscles that had been bunching in preparation suddenly released, and it caused Elira to sag just slightly in Inyos' hold. It wasn't entirely resignation to the truth, but it was more than enough to bring stillness to the fight that wanted to be made. Inyos had a point, a very very good one. Elira had almost given in to the justification that she hadn't earned any right to be regarded as anything more than another woman by Saidra, just the same as Elira still wasn't entirely comfortable thinking of the girl she practically knew nothing about as her daughter. It seemed a deserved fate, one in which Elira was glad to wallow in as punishment for her decisions, even if they had been made with nothing but care and hope behind them.

But that was her problem, she didn't give herself an option to move past it, to make anything more. Maybe Saidra sensed that reluctance and so in turn was more than happy to stand behind whatever thin barrier it was that they had constructed. Either way, it would need to change, and maybe - just maybe, it was Elira that needed to actually make the attempt first rather than waiting for the status quo to continue.

Elira shifted where she stood, a pivot that placed her right in front of Inyos and her hand raised to gently place against the Jedi's cheek.

"You make too much sense some times, Ra's. I hate when you do that. Doesn't give a girl much room to wiggle around your logic." The half smile that was forming, the general way she spoke to him, the familiarity of it, it had better damn well let Inyos know she wasn't entirely being truthful.

Whatever, he wouldn't get a chance to respond - at least not instantly - and she was hoping whatever smart remark he was plotting would never fully form as she hoped to obliterate it by distraction in the form of a kiss.

[Inyos Aamoran]

The kiss was unexpected, but not unwelcome. It was also delivered as a distraction, a playful tease, something that might have thwarted and baffled Inyos in the past. Over the days and weeks since they had been united however, his slowly growing openness to her feelings and his own had changed things, and now he understood a little more of the motives and intentions that danced behind her eyes, and tugged at the corner of her intoxicating smile.

The moment their lips parted, Inyos retaliated with a kiss of his own, far less playful, a hand sliding between her jacket and blouse to pull her body closer against his. The kiss was deep, but not desperate, laced with emotion and meaning as much as it was with desire. Passion, yet Serenity took on a whole new meaning, as for a fleeting instant their surroundings and situation were utterly purged from his mind.

When his lungs finally, frantically demanded it end, he held his head against hers, his lips lingering as close to hers as he dared.

"That's weird," he breathed, a rueful smile forming on his features. "I thought you liked it when I didn't give you much room to wiggle."

[Vittore Montegue]

Vittore stirred, and shifted, a silent groan coursing through his body. He felt as if he'd been in a boxing match with a binary load lifter, and as consciousness and thought slowly began to trickle into his mind, he realised that wasn't all that far from the truth.

It took a few moments for his surroundings to resolve into focus. Hospital room. The clinic on Cloud City. Not dead, then. That was a pleasant surprise. From the stillness of the air, and the relative quiet spilling in from the doorway beyond, it was probably pretty late in the city's day cycle. The same day? Maybe. He didn't feel hungry enough for it to have been days, but then his mouth was filled with the bitter taste of bacta, and a dunk in one of those tanks was bound to rob anyone of their appetite.

He thought about moving, but then his eyes settled on her: on the vice wrapped around his arm, the exhausted sleep of someone who refused to let him go. The stab through his chest that thought provoked hurt worse than anything else did. For a fleeting moment, he ran a mental inventory. Broken bones, and broken ribs for sure, maybe a pierced and collapsed lung, the knife in his gut, maybe a ruptured organ or two given how much it felt like someone had been rummaging around his innards, a face full of duracrete that was retreating slowly away from having been a fractured jaw. Pretty banged up, the voice of Elroy, the man who'd helped raise him, murmured in his head. For an instant, Vittore glanced around, making sure that it really was his head, and not the droid he'd reprogrammed to sound like him. We gonna sell it for scrap, or see if there's anythin' we can salvage?

Harsh words from his mind, given the circumstances. His consciousness had been fading when Sadie charged to his rescue, but he'd heard enough, and felt enough, to have some awareness of what he'd done. It would be hard for her to understand, and that was okay. She cared about him more than he cared about himself; but that was love, right? She was the someone he was willing to die for, and that had been what he'd almost gone and done. She'd be mad at him. He'd deserve it. He'd also do it again in a heartbeat: her life for his was an easy trade.

He almost let her sleep. Almost spared himself her anger for a few moments longer. Almost allowed himself to cherish the opportunity to watch her sleep. She wouldn't want that, though, and so his hand subtly shifted, fingertips gently brushing against her cheek to coax her slowly back to the waking world.

"Don't mean t' alarm you," he said, his voice not giving him much of a choice about how quiet and whispered his words were, "But your parents are totally makin' out right now."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

She never should have fallen asleep. Awake and all kinds of nervous let her body keep forgetting the small bit of a thrashing she'd gone through. Patches of her clothing was still stuck to her and there was bound to be a few small bits of glass still embedded that she'd have to shake off later, but when the doctor had been patching up Vitt and even looked in her direction... Well, Sadie was pretty damn sure the guy wasn't a Force User buthe didn't need to be to sense that leave me right th' frak alone and fix him that must have been piratically oozing out of her. She was also pretty sure Bog hadn't gone and done her any real big hurts - not physical at least - this last time around. Oh, Sadie was sure she'd be sporting some right pretty bruising in another day or so, but for now? Everything just ached, including the downright whopper of a migraine that must have come from that whole blow to the head that damn near made this story end a whole heap ton different. Kriff, it better not have been one of them brain bruise things - then she really shouldn't have been sleeping.

All this weren't exactly coming to her realization right quick like though. Yeah, the pain sure as hells was, but Sadie always had been one of those grumble and tug the covers back over her head type of waking person and unless Vitt was gonna hand her a cup of caf right quick, she had half a mind to whine mumble at him and nod off again.

Wait a Force-damned-minute.

Vitt.

Yeah okay so the quip about her folks getting all... whatever... in the other room was heard and acknowledged and Sadie was damn glad that she was too tired to have to tune it out on another level. Truth was, she wasn't feeling much of anything there either. It weren't gone or no stupid dren like that, just a switch of the knob had been made, or maybe she'd overdone it and needed a battery recharge. Whatever probably better that way otherwise things would have gone and gotten a whole heap ton harder in terms of having to deal with the hellish questions that were starting to come back to her mind. Not the why, at least not that initial. Vitt had strode out there to go kick Bog's ass like it was gonna be cake and then things had gone wrong. And... and then... he had... stopped. Why had he stopped? Why hadn't he tried to get back to her and make a run for it if they needed to re-strategize a win? Why had he just... let Bog...

The sound that left her sure sounded like of them early morning protests but it was mixed with something Sadie still weren't comfortable with doing in front of Vitt. Not because it were some trust issue, it was more on account that she just didn't go and make a habit of getting all weepy and he deserved to not have some girl suddenly put her arms as best around his shoulders given that he was lying down as she was off to the side as best as possible and start crying like he was dead or some stupid thing. But there you had it, and Sadie went and did it anyway and maybe it was that she was upset or maybe it was relief but whatever! It'd been one kriffing right bastard of a day and she could go and cry if she damn well felt like it.

[Vittore Montegue]

Vittore felt a tug of the same thing on his own face. Probably not the smartest idea, all things considered. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but with all the damage it felt like had been done to his face, kriff knew where stuff would end up leaking from if he went and let his own waterworks happen.

"Hey."

His words were soft, an arm painfully liberating itself from where gravity bound it to the matress. Only one obeyed as well, more drained of energy than anything else. The arm that did respond reached for her shoulder, hand gently brushing against it. With considerable effort, he managed to lever himself, shunting his body ever so slightly towards the far side of the bed.

"You gonna scooch up here so we can do this properly, or what?"

[Sadie K'Vesh]

She wanted to go and reply with one of them perfect smartass comments, but it just wouldn't form. Hours later maybe it'd come to her but the opportunity would be long gone and fat load of good it would do her then. As it were, Sadie managed to go and compose herself enough to at least sit up a little, prying herself from where she'd just about clung to Vitt and let her emotions go all full bore. What he was suggesting was one of them downright not allowed things as far as hospitals went, but frak it. Course it felt a little weird with Katie and Bumble in the room, but her awareness of them was so damned fleeting it practically didn't go and count. Not on any meanness level, just... well... when Vitt had gone and been the majority of her focus, now certainly wasn't a time to go and stop that.

Her head nodded, about as much of a response that made any sort of sense that Vitt was gonna get out of her right then and there and with a fair bit of caution on account that her sense of reality had seemed fit to remind her that he was the actual injured one here, Sadie gently moved from where she sat next to the bed to joining Vitt in it, laying on her side to try and take up as little space as absolute possible. Still couldn't look him proper in the eye though. Now some new damned guilt was building up in her, the revenge of an earlier bit of thinking just before all the skrag had hit the fan.

"Th-this is my fault. I... I shoulda jus'... Jus' let you kill him back on Nar Shadda."

And there came the damn tears again and this time she was better positioned kinda crumple against Vitt, burying her face against his chest. It weren't one of them uncontrollable jobs, but more than enough so that she weren't holding it all in either.

"B.. but why, Vitt? H-he was gonna kill you an' ...an'..." She felt her voice breaking, shattering before it was gonna let her finish. Nah uh, not this time. "Y... You were gonna let him."

[Vittore Montegue]

Damn it.

Vittore's eyes misted, staring up at the ceiling to try and ensure that was all that happened. Awkwardly he positioned his arms around her, cradling her head into his shoulder, ignoring whatever pain followed as he willingly welcomed the weight of her against him.

"This is his fault."

He wished he could have uttered it with even more certainty, though his struggling face and lungs still managed to do a pretty decent job, a slight tremble in his voice not withstanding.

"Not yours. Not mine."

Part of him wanted to leave it there, to offer that reassurance and have that be the end of it. But Sadie's question lingered, one she deserved to have answers. Vittore had his reasons, believed them, stood by them; but right now he wasn't sure he had the energy to help her understand, wasn't sure that the answers would make anything better. The last thing he wanted was to provoke anger, or further pain; but wasn't that the way of it, sometimes? When you loved someone, sometimes it hurt, and maybe that was okay.

"I wasn't -"

He stopped before that lie managed to escape. He was going to let him. He was willing to die, if that's what it took. But that wasn't the point, that was the important thing. To Vittore, it was so clear, so simple, and yet so impossible to word in a way that sounded entirely right.

"He wasn't just here t' hurt us, Sid. He was gonna take you. Away from me. Away from here. Away from our family. He was gonna -"

His voice flickered, his head leaning against Sadie's a little more.

"He was gonna hurt you again. An' there was no way I was gonna let that happen. But I couldn't... I couldn't fight him. He was too strong, and I wasn't... I wasn't enough. He would a' just tossed me around like a rag doll, or he would a' just snapped me in two without breakin' a sweat. He could a' killed me easy, and then he would a' just grabbed, you, an' he would a' been gone before anyone else could do a damn thing."

Vittore felt his fists tighten, felt the anger clawing at the back of his voice. With all the effort he could muster, he wrestled it back into submission.

"But because of what I did to him? I figured if I could say somethin', if I could make him want to hurt me, not just kill me, it'd buy you some time. Buy everyone else some time. There's a whole lot a' people who love you, Sadie, an' I knew that... I knew that they'd be able t' save you even if I couldn't, so long as I gave 'em the chance."

A faint sigh escaped him.

"So yeah, I didn't fight back. Not because I wanted to die, or nothin' like that? But I was willin' to, absolutely. An' the next time somethin' comes at us, I'll be willin' to die for you too. All of you. I'm... I'm a soldier, Sadie. I ain't never had much of a chance for fightin' and dyin' for what I believe in, but now I've got you. An' yeah."

His voice trailed off, turning equal parts sheepish and resolved.

"I ain't sorry I did it. An' here we are, all alive and okay, because you killed him. You saved me. An' that... that's what I do for my family. Always have. You have the Force, and shit like that: I've got faith in you. In them. In us. Maybe I get saved; maybe one day I don't; but if you're safe? If they're safe? That's what matters. Me, standin' there, between danger an' the people who matter to me? I don't... I don't know how else to live."

A weak laugh leaked out.

"I guess it's about all I'm good for too, grand scheme an' all."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

So this is what the verse did to folks. Her and him, at the least of it. Raised them up thinking they weren't worth a damn and expected a body to go and figure out how to make due with that and still survive. Sadie was working on fixing that notion on herself, had a ton of help and heaps of support but Vitt? Vitt didn't have this wierdly growing family around him; he was part of it for damn sure, but wasn't getting that same amount of coverage, wasn't surrounded but left on an edge somewhere, supported by the others but not. It weren't no body's fault, weren't like anybody was ignoring anyone, but she could see how it hadn't helped as well. Was enough to slow the waterworks at least, causing a right heavy sigh to come in it's place as Vitt valued himself as nothing more than some sort of meat shield for herself and others.

It was the one part of him that she didn't love, and if Sadie ever got to meet the man responsible for implanting this notion in Vitt's head... Well, she guessed the elder Montegue might fight that some Jedi weren't so honorable. Nothing too bad mind you, just a right proper old style punch to the jaw, maybe something dirtier that'd leave the guy writhing on the floor just for a bit with an ache that'd last a day. Asshole.

Still, it was hard to argue with what Vitt was saying. Given the right situation, damn right she'd die for him too if it came to that, if there was no other options. But this whole little excursion had her rethinking the wisdom of that. Yeah, you died and they lived and that seemed all kinds of important. But what did you leave behind? Something that made whatever the frak happened to Concord Dawn look like a knee scrape in comparison. Sadie'd felt it, just for that little moment she thought she was gonna well and truly lose him, saw it flash before her eyes and downright did not like the version of herself she saw at the other end of that tunnel. No, she werne't gonna go all Darkside or nothing rubbish like that. But some part of her was gonna well and truly die with him, that part that was able to feel what she felt toward him now, that ability to let anyone ever get that close. It sounded all over dramatic but Sadie had seen it, like it were clear as living the life she was now.

"Y' could try just livin' for a damn change f'r one," Sadie mumbled, bit more spite in her tone than she really wanted but thankfully it came out soft like.

This was gonna be like arguing with a brick damn wall, she knew, and Sadie knew damn well she also didn't have that sort of suave talking negotiation skills that'd make it all sink in but damn it, she had to try. Had to. She pushed herself up away from him, not a ton, just enough so that she wasn't hiding her face and made every effort to look him square in the eye. This was important and dammit Vittore Montegue you were gonna listen.

"Y' don't get it, do you? I could'a ran if it was just about me livin' through this, gettin' away. Inyos could have gone and taken out Bog, probably right quick and easy like too once he got there. But... That didn't even go and compute though, yeah? I saw you. You were the damn reason I..." Frak she was choking up again. Kriffin feelings, man. But she'd started and had to finish.

"I don't want y' to die for me, Vittore. I don't need that. What I need is you bein' here. Yeah, fight, but not for me, but for us; me an' you." It was coming out all wrong, all stupid and cliche and Sadie wanted to take it all back and just find some way to merge their minds for a bit so he could just get it. But that weren't their way, everything was gonna be a struggle but it was one worth making. "Y'... Y' promised y'd be there for me. So... be there. I don't need y' to go an' die for me Vitt, I need y' to live. You ain't some soldier to me. You're... y're just... you. Not some damn title that anyone else could ever be."

[Vittore Montegue]

It stung, hearing her say it. He'd known it was going to, but knowing didn't diminish it any. And she was right, in part. All that stuff. Try living for someone, all of that. Nine times out of ten, he was right there with her. He who fights and runs away, right? But this wasn't those nine times. It was the one in ten, in a hundred, in a thousand.

"Y' saw how fast he was, babe." He cringed a little as the word slipped in there. Unfair, but not on purpose. "Unless you an' pops have been workin' on some super speed Jedi hocus pocus that I don't know about, there ain't no way you're outrunning that, and I sure as hell ain't keeping up with you. And even if we did, then what? We lead our shit on a merry chase, trashin' our way through people's lives, gettin' Force knows who else hurt in the process?"

A sad expression tugged onto his brow, wishing he could find the words to help her understand: to divorce her of the idea that this was some self destructive crusade that he embarked on lightly.

"This shit is my job, Sid. Snap analysis. Knowin' in an instant what we can and can't do. Your dad is a Jedi, your uncle's some savant for secrets, the Boss and your mom know how to handle themselves, and you're all of the above and more. Me? All I do is fight stuff, and I ain't even the best at that when there's a freakin' Mando in the room. My instincts are what I bring to the table, and I gotta trust them, else there's no point to me. An' I need you to trust 'em too."

He faltered, expression flickering a little, eyes glancing away for just a moment.

"I ain't gonna deny that there's issues I've got. But that ain't what this was about. I looked at that asshole and I just knew, okay? I just knew. Call it instinct, or maybe I've got a little of whatever Force mojo mom had, whatever, but I knew that stallin' for time, keepin' him there, givin' your folks an' the others time to get there was the right play. It saves you, it got him dead, an' as luck would have it I came out okay."

Despite the gravity of the conversation, a faint ghost of a smile danced briefly across his lips.

"Believe me, this all hurt like a son of a bitch, an' I ain't in any hurry to do this again. An' I ain't exactly in the business of steppin' out on life just minutes after hearin' for sure that the girl a' my dreams loves me. But some day, somethin' like this may come our way again, an' if I make a call like this, if I decide that it's you over me? I need you to know that it ain't me runnin', okay? An' it ain't me in no hurry to die. Truth be told, I -"

His eyes glanced away again, a faint flush coming to his cheeks this time.

"I think I might not mind growin' all old and grey with you, an' that ain't somethin' I've gone and thought about anyone before. Never really figured I'd love that long in my line a' work. Still might not though, an' that's the thing. Whether it's Him, or somethin' on a job, or some fluke accident, somethin' is maybe gonna do me in, an' if it's my time then it's my time. I ain't suicidal, I ain't in no hurry, but that's just part a' life for folks like me. I can't -"

He stopped himself. It wasn't about can't. It wasn't about obstacles or incompatibilities. It was about understanding, and Vittore hoped with all his heart that she did.

"I made you a promise, an' I aim to keep it. But I need your trust. An' by all means, be mad at me for gettin' hurt like this, my dumb ass deserves it, an' I sure as hell don't mean to go causin' you pain. But don't ask me t' start second guessin' my instincts, as if me livin' is worth more than someone else. They're all I got goin' for me, outside a' bein' special to you."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

It weren't easy to hear, but it was something Sadie needed, just as much as Vitt had needed to hear her side of it all. Truth was, this was all kinds of hard to suss out, new territory and all that. It was good to know that it weren't no suicidal dren that drove Vitt's reasoning. He may not have gone and saw his full worth, but he had something and that were a right start if there ever was one. Didn't mean she liked it all, but it was there and it was something she had to go and learn was how things was gonna be.

"You know I trust you." Weren't a mean statement, certainly something Vittore didn't know, but there was a twinge in Sadie's voice that didn't sit right either. Time to fix that. "If y' need me t' trust y're instincts? You got that, hundred percent an' then some."

At least she weren't sobbing no more, still upset yeah, still wanting to just grab hold of him and never let go? Damn right. But she managed to hold on, adding to what Vittore said. He had this idea in his head and it was great and it worked and she would never question it. But he needed to adjust it, needed to change with the new information.

"But if y' think I am gonna run in them situations? If I ain't gonna pull a full repeat of today if it comes t' that? Y're wrong."

That was it then. The truth of it. She hadn't gone and saved herself today and anything that came for them after this point, well, if it got this bad again she'd be right there once more.

"Y' ain't alone no more. Y' don't get to make any last stands without me. That stronger thing? That thing that you can't beat? Yeah, so maybe y' can't weather it alone but us, Vitt? Us. That's what y' gotta keep in mind. I ain't proud 'bout today. But that's how it's gonna go, yeah?"

She sighed, resignation filling in the gaps she wanted to go and ignore. Where she'd kept a down right needful lock of her eyes with him finally gave way and she looked down, just to have one of them damn wayward tears work it's way from the corner of her eye and down her cheek. Trails that'd been set by others, that's what let it escape so damn easy.

"I'll go if you tell me to. If y're thinking that's the best play, if that's what you really think it best..." Sadie paused and forced herself to look at him again. "But please. Don't ask that of me? Don't ask me t' leave you. I made that damn mistake already, not keen on doing it again."