Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Jango watched his son shove a shirt into his small duffel bag – the only thing he brought with him when they left Kamino – and felt something like a smile tug at his lips. He had tried to teach his son as much as possible, like how it was always wise to pack only what was completely necessary. The boy had listened, apparently. It wasn't an extremely important thing; it just reminded Jango of how smart his son was.
Of course, a cold voice echoed through his mind, he's only a copy of you. Jango shook his head, dispelling the thought. His son was his own person. Boba had proven that countless times through his accompaniment with his father on his bounty hunts to everyday, mundane things. The boy would wake up the exact same time every morning, be dressed and ready for the day in less than ten minutes. It was good to have a solid schedule, especially for the line of work he was getting into.
Did he have any other choice but to be a bounty hunter? What if he wanted to be something else? Jango felt his spine tingle. That wasn't how it was at all. He loved his son, more than he had loved any other living being in the universe. He would give anything he could for the boy, which was why he had trained him to be strong. At first, when Boba was nothing more than an idea, he was going to be an apprentice; someone to continue on Jaster Mereel's legacy. But after he held him for the first time, when he looked into his eyes…
That seemed like a lifetime ago. A pang of sadness shot through Jango's chest. Boba had grown so quickly. Soon he'd be out on his own.
Of course, soon didn't mean right then. A few years at least. Jango may have started out life the hard way, but that didn't mean he wanted his son to. He knew he was being over-protective, even when he put his son in harmful situations, but he couldn't help it. Jango hadn't grown soft, he had just realized how important family was.
I lost mine a long time ago...
Jango, wanting to take his mind off his son leaving him, (among other things) continued to watch Boba pack his things and realized he had already packed everything. The boy was probably waiting on him. Jango brought nothing with him that wasn't on the Slave, so Boba wouldn't have to wait long.
Jango tried not to smile as he looked at his young son's face, expecting a look of aggravation. The boy grew impatient when he had to wait. He'd grow out of it but for the time being – when it wasn't a problem – it was amusing.
Jango was slightly surprised to see a frown on Boba's face. It wasn't a hurry up frown, either. For a moment, Jango began to panic. Something was wrong. He gave himself a moment to settle down. What could be wrong? Or, what could be seriously wrong that he didn't know about?
"Boba," Jango started, not sure how to address a problem he didn't know existed. "What's wrong?" The boy didn't even blink as he continued to stare at his father. It was un-nerving, to say the least. It was as if he was literally looking straight through him. Or, an even more disturbing thought, he wasn't seeing him at all.
The thought left a block of ice in Jango's chest. "Boba," he tried again. Boba bit his bottom lip, pulled his bag over his shoulder and turned toward the door. Jango reeled; Boba had never ignored him so completely before. A sudden anger entered Jango's mind. He didn't teach his son to be so disrespectful. "Boba,"
The dark, curly head didn't even turn. Jango stood there for a moment, wondering what had happened.
The day's events hadn't gone by smoothly, but at least they had managed to get out of it unscathed. The Count had gotten away, the Republic had received its army; everything had gone to plan. Or, gone to someone's plan. Jango honestly couldn't care less about what the galaxy did. Well, he hoped the Jedi would fall out of existence, but that was another matter all toghether. He was paid, and he had his son. Nothing else mattered.
Now, after everything that had happened, they were in the room the Geonosians had so generously let them stay in – if one could even call it a room, that is. The bed just looked like some crates stacked at a presentable height with a white cloth draped over it. There was no other furniture. Bugs didn't use rooms apparently. Jango allowed Boba to use the "bed", while he sat against the door, keeping watch the night before. He didn't trust the Geonosians; he wouldn't put it past them to try and take out the bounty hunter and his brat while they were sleeping, Dooku's hired help or not. So Jango didn't sleep. The lack of one night's sleep did nothing to his level of skill. He could stay up three days straight.
The battle had ended, and they were about to leave on the Slave, hopefully never to see Geonosis again.
So why was Boba on the verge of tears? His son didn't cry often. The boy hadn't cried since he was six years old. The sight of his son's quivering lip made his chest ache. Why? He'd seen his boy cry before, and he hadn't felt that strongly about it. He wasn't hurt was he? The ache became a wrench of worry. If anything had happened to Boba…
…if those jedi had touched him…
"Boba, wait – " Jango stepped forward toward his son, who was already out of the door. Just as Jango was in reach, Boba slammed the door. In his face.
There was a moment of complete silence. Then Jango swung open the door, absently realizing he didn't feel the knob, and stomped out into the hallway.
"Boba Fett, what is wrong?" He said, trying not to yell. Jango rarely lost his temper, or rarely used his son's full name for that matter, but Boba had crossed the line. He had never done something so…disrespectful. He had taught his son better than that!
Boba was walking briskly toward the nearest exit. "Stop!" Jango ordered, not sure to keep walking after the boy or wait for him to do as told.
Boba stopped walking, giving Jango slight hope.
Then Boba's small shoulders began shaking. Jango took a step forward, ready to finally find out what was bothering his only child. Just as he started his second step, the boy dropped his bag with the loudest clang Jango had ever heard.
Clang? What did he bring –
A sob escaped Boba's throat. Jango froze. Then another, then another. With ever pain filled sound, Jango felt his chest tighten. Finally, just as Jango was about to do something so unlike him, Boba just broke down, falling to his knees. His parental instincts died away, leaving nothing but shock to leaden his body down. Why couldn't he move? His son was bawling on the floor, and he was standing there, doing nothing.
But no matter how hard he tried, nothing would listen to him. Jango's legs were glued to the dusty floor.
"Dammit," Boba choked out through sobs. He turned his head to his duffel bag, shortly after grabbing it and holding it to his shaking body. Jango watched as the boy began un-zipping the over-stuffed thing. He remembered the clang noise, doubling his confusion. His son hadn't brought that many things with him had he? Jango could have sworn he hadn't –
Small, shaky hands pulled out a blue and silver helmet.
His helmet.
Jango felt time literally stop.
Jedi. A reek. Sparks. Robes. Purple light. Nothing.
What had happened? Jango looked back at the room he had just stomped out of. The door was shut.
He had left it open.
It was all starting to come together in terrible clarity. Why Boba wouldn't acknowledge him, why he didn't feel his hand actually touch the door and why it remained shut when he remembered leaving it open –
Jango realized he wasn't breathing, but found he wasn't fazed by it. He stared at his hands, realization fully taking affect.
He was dead. Beheaded by a light-saber.
Oh, Force – fuck the Force…Shab…
Jango looked back at his son, not knowing how to feel. Boba was staring at the helmet, holding it between his hands while resting it on his knees. He was trying to control his sobbing, but was losing the battle. Jango felt an overwhelming feeling of emptiness hollow him out. What was to become of his son?
What was Boba supposed to do? He didn't have anyone to go to. No one was there to save him, take care of him…
It's a hard life. Jango snarled at the voice in his head, not wanting to listen to it. Yes, it was a hard life, but that didn't mean he wanted his son to witness it at such a young age. He'd get enough of that later in life. Jango could literally feel the voice begin again.
It's what you wanted, wasn't it? You want him to be a great bounty hunter – this is the perfect way to achieve your goal.
Jango growled. He'd have to shut that voice up somehow. He looked down at his son, and pushed it off until later. Boba had stopped sobbing, but Jango could tell he was still crying. It made him…he couldn't describe it. Outraged, defeated, crushed. He was useless to his son – his ten year old boy – and that tore at his insides.
Ten's not that young, the voice interjected. Jango clenched his fists.
"It is when you're fucking alone," he ground out. How had he allowed himself to die when Boba still needed him? Jango let out a frustrated yell, punching the wall. To his dismay, he didn't even feel his fist impact with anything, not even air.
"Shit."
What about the manda? Jango felt his heart stop beating – not that he had one anymore. He'd dwell on that later, though. He had a feeling he had plenty of time for that. Where were the rest of his comrades? People he fought with? Bled with?
Watched die…
Ok, maybe the reunion could wait a little bit longer. He wasn't sure he could handle any more excitement at the moment.
Jango didn't know what to do. Was he a ghost? Were there such things as ghosts? What did ghosts do? Haunt people? He didn't want to haunt his son, he wanted to help him. Could ghosts help people, if that was even what he was?
What had happened to everything he had been taught? He was Mandolorian. Mando'ade went to be apart of the manda.
His head began to spin.
Jango heard scuffling and turned his attention back to his son. How could he have taken his eyes off of him in the first place? Boba stood, stumbling a couple of times before actually getting to his feet. Jango felt his heart – or lack thereof, he got pissed just thinking about it – breaking. It wasn't fair. His son didn't deserve this. Who was going to watch over him? Why hadn't Jango thought of that before?
Jango froze. He remembered the book he had given Boba. It would help him in the event that something happened to Jango. Well, something had happened to him alright. What had he written in the book? Why was he having trouble remembering? He always had had great memory. Now everything was fuzzy…
Oh, right…Jabba's… Jango felt his lips pull down. Jabba's? Really? His son needed to be strong to survive on his own, and sending him to a Hutt was a sure way for him to find a few jobs, feeling his way through the process of bounty hunting –
Because he has nothing else to do besides bounty hunt.
Jango bit his lip, trying not to get too upset. He resumed his current thought process, not wanting to linger – or question – how he had raised his son –
He had morals, right? He was an overall good person - according to Mando'ade standards, anyway - wasn't he? Jango had been raised by a great man – a great warrior…
That's the thing, Jango looked at his son's duffel bag filled with his armor. A great warrior. What if he really did want something else?
Are you kidding? He didn't have any choice because you never taught him anything else.
"I taught him to be Mando'ade, dammit! I saved his soul, didn't I?"
The voice suddenly had nothing to say.
Jango suddenly grew tired. He had never sat down and thought about life, it was just always there. He thought about death many times, but life?
And now death seemed to be nothing more than...well, nothing.
Well, a harsh sound resembling a laugh scraped against his throat, now what?
Boba began walking to the exit, not even looking back. Relief filled Jango. He realized he couldn't look into those eyes and stay sane at that moment. He needed time. Relief was replaced by shame, then to nothing but a hollow feeling. Jango waited for a moment before following; or perhaps he wasn't supposed to follow?
The thought of leaving his son alone tore his insides apart. Whether he could follow or not, Jango wasn't leaving his son completely. If only Boba could know he was there...
"I'm sorry," Jango whispered, not knowing exactly how many things he was apologizing for.
(A/N: I guess you could say the prompt of this is "What if there was no heaven?" LOL For Mandolorians, anyway. Or maybe Jango's not finished with his wordly business?
Any OOCness is due to Jango being confuzzled. What if everything you believed in wasn't true? I'm not saying that the manda isn't, in Star Wars ayway, and I've got ideas for this story, but I'm far too busy with other stories to flesh it out. :(
I've wanted to write something a tad bit more serious, so there you have it. Sorry for posting it twice, but something was bugging me this morning about it and I had to change/add some things. It'd be fun to make this a full story, but, like I said above, I've got other stories to work on. Tell me what you think, huh?)
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