Chapter Twenty Eight
Realization
Subsurface - Kylix Executive Suites, Nar Shadda, Mid Rim, 18 days after the execution of Contingency Order 66.
"Rex, I know you can hear me."
Ahsoka grimaced inwardly even as she said the words, not sure at all of the confidence she was trying to portray. I really hope he can hear me, that is.
Steeling herself, she stepped directly in front of Rex, her back against the opposite wall and just out of arm's reach. "I'm not going anywhere, you know. So... if you do want me to leave, you're going to have to be more proactive."
She felt some apprehension as she spoke, but apparently it was misplaced; Rex didn't respond in the slightest to her goading. His breathing was low, but clearly audible against the silence of the small room where they were both hidden. His eyes were still averted, and in the darkness Ahsoka knew he couldn't see her, but maybe that would work to her advantage. At the very least, he wouldn't be able to see to aim his fist at her again.
Taking a deep breath, she began.
"Rex, do you remember when we first met, on Christophsis?"
Rex said nothing; Ahsoka paused long enough to imagine how he might answer, then continued."Yeah, I'll admit I wasn't all that thrilled about it at first, what with my brand new Master trying to get rid of me and all. But the strangest thing happened, after only our first few minutes together. I respected you. I liked you. Not that you couldn't have been a little less gruff with a teenage shiny, but somehow I knew that you were someone I could trust, someone I'd find myself turning to for advice and support time and again."
Still unsure of where she was going, Ahsoka paused to reflect on those earlier - happier - days, only a few short years ago but that seemed so far away now. "You told me back then, 'experience outranks everything.' I guess you might have meant it to shut up an uppity Padawan, but the lesson stuck with me ever since."
Ahsoka couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment that Rex didn't reciprocate her friendly jab, but she refused to be dissuaded. "You went from being my surrogate-babysitter, to a mentor, an advisor, and most of all a friend. You were never easy on me, but you were the first to back me up when I needed it. I don't know if I always made it as clear as I should have back then, but you were one of my most trusted friends ever, Jedi included."
There was still no response from Rex, but Ahsoka noted that his breathing had become slow and forced, perhaps a sign that he was holding back something inside. Hoping she'd found an opening, she went on, "You've seen me in some unflattering light more than once, Rex, but you never gave up on me. Even when..." she bit her lip, her courage faltering as some of those unflattering memories resurfaced, "that time, right after order sixty-six went down, when I was out of it and acting... wrong towards you, you stuck with me right through it all. Even when you had no idea how to help me, you wouldn't do anything less than try, and in the end that was exactly what I needed."
Turning to face him directly, Ahsoka tried to press her advantage - real or imagined - and spoke with all the earnestness she had in her. "That's what I want to be for you now, Rex. I know... no, I don't know what it is you're going through. I think I can, and yet I'm sure I can't begin to imagine how much this news hurts you. But I want to. I want to feel for you, and I want to be there for you like you were for me. But I need you to let me do it."
Ahsoka felt her eyes beginning to grow misty. It was discouraging - no, painful - to see Rex stare at the ground as though unaffected by her heartfelt appeal. Growing a bit desperate, she advanced on him again, kneeling in front of him and, with only the slightest hesitation, placing both hands on his shoulders.
He made no reaction to her touch, which was almost as hurtful as it was relieving. While she didn't meant it that way at all, Ahsoka was instinctively aware that she was taking a position of power towards Rex, with her hands close to and circling his neck. Of course he didn't know that, and Ahsoka only meant to get him to pay attention to her. Slowly, her calloused fingers gripped his jaw, then spread out, forcing Rex's head up to reveal his stoic face, and empty eyes.
Ahsoka had always believed there was something special about Rex's eyes. Perhaps genetically they were the same as those of every other clone, but in essence there was so much more to them. These were the piercing, steely eyes that had faced off against droids and monsters, stared down Assaj Ventress on Teth, that had seen death coming for him time and time again and refused to flinch. And yet they had a softer side as well, the warm, honey brown eyes that had met hers with laughter, with wisdom, and quite often with worried - and sometimes warranted - concern over the two short years they had known each other.
It was a stark contrast to the eyes that stared back at her now as she forced his head upwards. His gaze blank and unfocused, his pupils strangely dilated. Despite her nearness and touch, Rex gave no signs of recognition or even anger. She was right there and yet it seemed he couldn't see her.
No, she suddenly realized. Rex wouldn't see her.
"So... looks like you're getting the bed to yourself. Should I find you some company?"
Derek scowled at the bounty hunter standing in the doorway, just a few steps shy of being out of sight. Just leave already, you old scumbag.
If he didn't know better, he might have thought Cad Bane was actually enjoying this drawn out goodbye. "I can send for some blankets, if you need to keep warm. Or, if you prefer a little more action, I could call in a Zeltron gal from upstairs-"
"Not interested, on either count," Derek spat.
"So you'd prefer a boy?"
Make that an old pervert scumbag. Derek gritted his teeth as he answered "I'm not playing this sick game with you, bounty hunter. Just move it
Bane chortled. "I'm sure you're such a prude, too." Finally, he took a couple steps out of the apartment, before suddenly pausing and turning to regard Derek from over his shoulder. "Oh, and Jedi?" The bounty hunter held out an open hand, as though waving. "Good luck."
With that, the door slid shut behind Bane, leaving Derek alone.
He sighed - from either exhaustion, relief, or maybe both - then hurried towards the door on the opposite end of the 'suite', beyond which Ahsoka and the clone were hidden. The door wasn't particularly thick, and Ahsoka's voice - subdued but intelligible - carried through noticeably.
Derek took a step towards the door, then hesitated; should he interfere with his fellow Padawan's efforts, whatever those happened to be? Or... his head turned automatically to the plain, unadorned but so inviting bed lying across the room. His step wavered as he tried to keep his balance.
Maybe just a short rest, just a moment to sit and gather his thoughts before revisiting his argument with Ahsoka. Give him and her a chance to cool off, and perhaps allow Ahsoka a moment to work out her concerns with the clone.
That's definitely the most prudent option, Derek decided as his body impacted the surprisingly soft mattress. Rushing things was never a good idea, he'd learned that much after all. He'd be able to think more clearly, react more effectively, argue more ably, after some rest. Just a few minutes might do wonders...
He didn't have a chance to finish the thought before unconsciousness claimed him.
Ahsoka's resolve wavered as she stared into the seemingly lifeless face of her companion and friend. Her voice was no longer collected and frank; she could feel her heart beating faster, and her throat trembled with exhaustion as a sense of despair began to settle over her.
"Rex!" she cried, seizing him by the shoulders and leaning towards him until his forehead touched the crown of her montrals. "Please, you have to snap out of this! This isn't you!"
"Then who am I?"
His voice - harsh and unexpected - was almost heart-stopping, and Ahsoka felt a reflexive urge to back away as from a potential threat. But no sooner had she recoiled than her hopes began to soar again; harshly or not, at least Rex was talking to her again.
"Rex," she said, her voice dropping to a more peaceable volume as she searched in vain for something meaningful to say. "I'm sorry, I know this hurts, and-"
The words froze in her throat as she saw something in Rex's eyes that she had never seen before.
Tears?
Of course she had seen people cry before; her Master had never been great at hiding his emotions, discounting his forced, unnatural suppression of his feelings towards the last days of the war. In fact most Jedi were not above growing misty-eyed on occasion - Master Windu being a clear exception. Neither were the clones - new troopers often shed tears after the shock of battle and the pain of losing brothers settled in for the first time.
But not Rex. Rex wasn't the kind of man who expressed emotion in that way; he was as unflappable as his aim was straight. And he never cried.
If one could even call this crying, that is. After his harsh retort, Rex didn't make a sound. The tears stood still in his eyes, like someone had had just splashed water over his face. He continued to stare ahead of himself, his face as stoic as before. The visual incongruity of a man crying while displaying a face devoid of emotion was frightening.
Going more off of instinct than any rational plan, Ahsoka slipped her hands behind his shoulders and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Cry, Rex. It's okay... it's okay to cry," she whispered in his ear, her cheek resting against his as she held him close. Had she been standing up her knees would no doubt have been knocking, and her heart raced both with apprehension and an earnest desire to help this man. Her words fumbled, her hands trembled, and she forgot everything she wanted to say; even the guilty unease she had felt about coming too 'close' to Rex disappeared entirely. All she wanted now was for Rex to open up to her, to take all the pain and hurt bottled up inside him and let it out.
After another moment of her soft and probably incoherent whispers, Rex did just that.
With a moan, he fell forward into Ahsoka's arms, his body racked with heaves as he began to sob. Ahsoka reacted immediately, shifting her weight forward to offset the force of Rex's armored body suddenly leaning against her. She rubbed her hands across his back, hoping to provide some sort of comfort.
It was a surreal moment; Ahsoka didn't think she'd ever been as... close with Rex as she was now, holding him as he shuddered and wept. Even through his armor his body was warm, and sweat beaded over his forehead and cheeks and mixed with his tears; within a moment her shoulder was damp. Ahsoka felt her own eyes grow watery in empathy, and as she reached towards him in the Force she was overwhelmed by the sudden wave of emotional energy that seemed to pour straight from Rex's broken spirit.
Finally Rex began to grow still, his sobbing replaced by heavy breathing. Ahsoka shifted to try find a more natural position - she wasn't as tall as Rex and kneeling as she was meant she was actually beneath him even while she tried to hold him - and Rex responded by shifting backwards, sitting upright almost as he had been before. Ahsoka felt suddenly bereft of his awkward but somehow welcome weight, but her disappointment was quickly forgotten as Rex began to speak.
"Who am I?" he repeated his haunting question, the words forced out of his taught throat like a deep groan. His voice became only slightly clearer as he continued. "C C seven five sixty-seven. Command clone... Captain of the Grand Army of the Republic. An officer. A brother. A soldier."
Rex went on, and his voice grew more steady as he did so; Ahsoka realized that she was about to get the one thing she wanted most in that moment: an opening, a look into the man she probably knew best, and who still had so much more he could tell her. Still on her knees, she moved back to give him some space, keeping one hand on his shoulder and gently stroking his cheek with the other, her eyes wide and locked with Rex's own, still unseeing ones.
"I was sworn to the Republic," he said, his voice low and tense and still laced with an underlying emotion that he was clearly trying to hold back. "Bred to defend the Republic. Engineered to follow orders, to achieve objectives as efficiently as possible. I had a duty and a purpose, and that was supposed to be enough for me."
"I fought in many battles, lost countless more brothers. They fought and died for 'the Republic', for a cause that seemed at times to be nothing but words drilled into us from birth. We were soldiers, we were created for that kind of sacrifice."
The words sent cold chills through Ahsoka, but she couldn't for a moment think to deny them. What Rex was saying had been the ugly truth all along: the clone army was a product, built and sold to accomplish an objective. They were as sentient as any Senator, and yet they had no citizenship, no rights, nothing to come home to when their duty was done. It wasn't right, it never was.
Even though he still took no notice of her, Rex seemed to have anticipated Ahsoka's gut reaction. "The Jedi... most of them, they made every effort to respect and recognize their men. My Commander..." Rex's voice wavered for a moment, and Ahsoka dared to hope he might be on the brink of finally acknowledging her presence. However, he ultimately did not, still referring to her in third person as he spoke - apparently - to no one in particular. "My Commander once told me she feared the Jedi were using us, that the clone army was being taken advantage of." There was a strain of bitterness in Rex's voice when he added, "Using us? We were their army, their weapons, and they had no more choice in the matter than we."
Ahsoka's wasn't sure her eyes could open any wider, but she was almost taken aback by Rex's recounting of one of their earliest conversations; she wasn't sure the last time she had thought back to their time aboard the Leveler. She had been so young and naive back then, learning too much way too fast, but she did recall Rex's unease as she frowned and nervously wondered aloud whether she, as a Jedi, was somehow guilty of mistreating the clone troopers she was coming to know so well.
"I've been in active duty for almost three years," Rex continued. "I've seen things that no one else has. I've seen men turn their backs on their brothers, some for personal gain, some for freedom, a new life, one of their own choosing. I've seen leaders betray their honor, sacrifice their own men for their petty schemes. I've seen enough to convince any thinking man that there was no point in even trying to honor my duty, that my best option was to leave everything and chase some fanciful notion of a life I wanted...
"But I was a soldier."
Rex's voice was low and hard, and Ahsoka could easily sense the remorse in his words, the bitterness of missed chances and wasted effort. "I was a soldier, so I fought. I fought to secure a way of life that I would never know, a future for children that I would never have. I fought because I was sure that if we failed, an unimaginable evil would destroy everything worth fighting for."
As he went on Rex's voice began to rise in pitch, his words halting and desperate, utterly unlike how Ahsoka had ever heard him speak before. "So I fought. I poured everything I had into my men, tried to pass on what I had learned, tried to protect those who were close to me. For three years I gave everything for victory and tried not to wonder whether it mattered... because it had to matter. It had to be worth it in the end."
And it wasn't, Ahsoka realized, overwhelmed with the complete injustice of it all. It was so unfair that a man who was as committed to the 'greater good' as any Jedi, had been used to unleash the greatest evil the galaxy had known in a millennium.
This was far more than anger towards a traitorous leader, or resentment over needless suffering. The revelation of the Sith's plot had effectively corrupted Rex's most treasured aspiration, and poisoned the blood and sweat that marked a star-spanning life's story of death and war. His greatest hope, the cause for which he had fought and suffered, had been nothing but a momentous lie.
It was a wrong too great to be described, and for one of the few times on her life Ahsoka found herself at a loss for words. Instead she could only watch, stricken and helpless as Rex began to fall apart once more.
"I was a shabla fool," he said, his voice somewhere between a growl and a groan,"to think I could be more than the blind droid they said I was. As if somehow anything I did mattered at all in the end. As if I was anything but a mass-manufactured killer... a creature bred in a laboratory..."
"Rex, don't say that!" Ahsoka implored, putting her hands over his shoulders. "It's not true, you're not-"
"Damn right, it's true," Rex snarled, his voice almost unrecognizable as he scowled towards her, if not at her. "My entire existence was meant to destroy the Jedi and the Republic and to tear the galaxy apart!"
"But you-"
"Every battle I won was a blow to the Republic, a betrayal of the very people I had promised myself to protect. Every campaign, every pull of my trigger, every scene of destruction and suffering I caused did nothing but clear the way for that monster."
As Rex made the allusion to his weapon, he made a sudden movement that chilled Ahsoka to her core; she didn't need to look down to know he was drawing his blaster pistol. No, no, no, this is too dangerous. I can't let him lose control of himself now.
But before she could reach to stay his hand, Rex was holding the weapon before him; he'd turned halfway from her, she assumed for safety, while his narrowed eyes glared at the worn and rugged blaster. It seemed she could almost read what he was thinking through his hardened gaze; the needless death he and his weapon had caused, the misplaced trust that his grim duty was ultimately for the greater good.
Briefly Ahsoka's thoughts went to her own weapon, one that had taken more lives than she'd like to remember - while the thought was an unsettling one, it had been what needed to be done. And the lightsaber was much more than a weapon - it was a symbol, a tool, a representation of a way of life: a thousand-year heritage of defending the innocent and fighting for peace and justice.
But for Rex, the image was much different. Neither he nor his weapon would have existed had it not been for the Sith plot. As far as he was concerned, he was nothing more than a weapon himself, a tool that had been used to wreak needless destruction and tear apart the very Republic he had believed he was defending. From his limited point of view, his only legacy would be paving the way for the Sith ascendency.
It couldn't be true - it wasn't true - but Ahsoka didn't know how to tell Rex that. And she had a chilling sense that it wouldn't make a difference anyway.
"More than one monster has used this blaster, used me," Rex growled under his breath, his voice so hard and cold it was almost unrecognizable. "I've been used for the last time."
Before Ahsoka realized what he was saying, Rex swung his forearm up, bringing the barrel of his blaster right in line with his head.
"No!"
The next instant was a blur. In retrospect, there were probably safer ways to remove Rex's weapon from his hand, or for that matter to shake him from his suicidal thoughts. Almost anything would have been safer than throwing herself into Rex's unsuspecting arms, wrapping hers around his neck and placing herself between him and his deadly blaster.
Only when she felt the cold chill of the pistol against her neck did Ahsoka realize there might have been better options; but at this point she no longer cared. If Rex was going to go out this way, then he was taking her with him.
She hoped - for his own sake as much as her own - that that was the one thing he couldn't bring himself to do.
Clearly startled, Rex froze as his eyes met hers, and she could see the faint blue glow being reflected in his own golden brown ones. He seemed to be in a state of shock, eyes wide and his lips parted slightly, but he didn't speak. In that moment Ahsoka wondered at how vulnerable he looked, a complete break from his cold and harsh bearing only seconds ago. His hands were trembling: she could tell from the vibrations of the blaster barrel still pressed into the nape of her neck.
"You're wrong, Rex, you have so much to live for, but if you're going to do this, go ahead," she whispered, not really thinking before she spoke. "Just end it for both of us. If there's really nothing for you anymore, if you're going to just give up... then I give up too."
It was probably a terrible and reckless way to speak to a desperate man on the brink of taking his own life, and yet Ahsoka felt it was the right thing to do, for Rex and for herself. She couldn't repair the damage that had been done, she couldn't answer the questions that tormented him. But if there was one thing she knew she could do, it was to give herself to Rex, to allow herself to become - in whatever woefully inadequate way possible - his reason to not give up.
"Please, before you do this, just listen to me, Rex," she murmured as she pressed her cheek against his, all too aware of the loaded weapon at her back. "You can't tell me that I'm worth nothing to you, not after everything we've been through. I know this sounds conceited of me, but if nothing else... let me be your reason to keep going."
There was an instant where Ahsoka felt the urge to say more than that, to verbalized the feelings that she had tried to quell in the days previous. But she hesitated, and her cooler side prevailed; somehow she felt neither Rex not herself were ready for anything more.
And anyway, she seemed to have said enough. Rex's empty stare began to soften at her words; suddenly Ahsoka felt the pistol removed from her neck as he dropped the weapon altogether. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion, but he didn't push her away, for a moment they leaned against each other in silence. Inwardly Ahsoka repeated her plea, hoping perhaps even subconsciously Rex might understand how much she meant every word. Just for now, Rex. Just till we're past this, let me be your reason to go on.
Finally, Rex broke the reverie; he pulled back, and Ahsoka did the same, keeping her hands around his neck as she met his gaze with her own. When he spoke his voice was so low that she might have thought he was talking to himself had she not seen the clear recognition in his eyes.
"You... you already are, Ahsoka."
She shivered at the sound of Rex saying her name, with his deep timbre that sent chills straight through entire body. Unable to resist, Ahsoka reached up, her hands unsteady as she felt the bristled, young hair on his unshaven face. Their eyes remained locked as Ahsoka caressed his tired face, still unsure exactly what she was doing, or if she should be doing it at all.
She knew there was so much more for a man like him to live for than the companionship of another battered survivor. But she also saw that Rex simply couldn't see that right now, that he just wasn't capable of seeing beyond the horror that had been unmasked before them. Even if it was only temporary, only a crutch, right now Rex needed somebody to hold onto, somebody to live for.
And Ahsoka would be that somebody.
"Rex," she whispered in return, her eyes tearing up again. Briefly she wondered whether he felt anything like she did when he said her name, but she banished the silly thought almost immediately. Her hands clasped behind his back as she pulled him into a hug. "Thank you."
"No," Rex murmured against her cheek as he leaned into the embrace. He was clearly exhausted, and his speech was slow as he added, "Thank you... Ahsoka."
The shivers that went through her all over again were not a little distracting, but Ahsoka managed to push those feelings aside - there would be time aplenty to worry about those ramifications in the future. Right now Rex needed a strong friend, not a giddy teenager with a crush.
And Ahsoka knew that what she was sharing with Rex was nothing like a crush.
Her thoughts drifted as she held Rex close, trying to quantify the new bond that was forming between them. Ahsoka and Rex shared much in common: both had been wounded emotionally, with dreams and aspirations crushed by forces beyond their control. Their hopes and fears had been doomed from the start, years before she and Rex had even met. And there was nothing either could say that could ease that kind of pain.
But somehow, the simple fact that they had both felt that pain, that they each knew what it was like to have everything they believed in turned on its head, fanned the flame that was growing between them.
They each knew what it was like to fall, and to be held. They both knew what it was like to be frightened and confused, and be forced to rely on another to carry them through. Shrouded though it was in pain and tragedy, there was also something beautiful about it.
Rex began to slump against her, and Ahsoka could sense him slipping into unconsciousness. Moving carefully, she moved to sit alongside Rex, keeping her hands on his shoulders to support him. She removed one hand long enough to slip her feet from her boots, using a subtle Force push to prevent Rex from falling forward in the process. Her lightsaber was set aside next; she laid it near Rex's discarded blaster and tried not to think of the tragedy that she'd narrowly averted. Then she crossed her legs, and attempted to ease Rex into a gentle recline.
It ended up being a bit less graceful than she hoped, as an unconscious - and fully armored - Rex simply dropped like a rock into her lap . The young Jedi stifled a yelp as his shoulder dug into her hip, but the figure laying across her lap didn't even stir; Rex was out cold.
Wincing, Ahsoka shifted and tried to make herself as comfortable as she could, then returned her attention to the sleeping man. His cheeks were still streaked, and his fists were clenched, but his face was calm, almost contented.
She wondered fleetingly if she should try to remove some of his armor - for her own comfort as much as his - but she shook her head at the idea, and felt a little guilty for thinking it. Still, she couldn't help a small grin as she pondered how embarrassed Rex would be when he woke up like this.
He's practically sleeping on top of me, it's got to be okay to loosen up a little.
Relaxing somewhat at the thought, she rested a hand over his head, trying not to actually enjoy the prickle of the short, stiff hairs just beginning to emerge - an unusual problem since Togruta tended to be instinctively averse to the concept of hair. Hoping the action might provide some comfort, she ran her fingers lightly across his scalp, following the lines that marked the ridges of his skull. Her lips curved into another small smile as Rex let out a sigh, and the tension in his fists finally relaxed.
The moment was amazingly peaceful, natural, right - and what made it all the more extraordinary was that so much of what was happening around them was so wrong. Ahsoka felt a deep sense of connection to Rex, something she had never felt before with anyone else. It wasn't just understanding, or empathy, or commiseration - it was all those things, and so much more.
As she continued to stroke Rex's head, Ahsoka mind went back again, before the war and her becoming a Padawan and everything else that had defined her life since she landed on Christophsis. As though prompted by some inner voice, her thoughts settled on an little poem that Master Shaak Ti had taught her as a youngling. Before the war, the regal Togruta Master had made it a point to take others of her kind beneath her wing, to ensure that the younger ones learned something of their ancestors' and their ancient heritage. At the time, Ahsoka found had those sessions distinctly boring. But now, there was a deep comforting aspect about the memories, and she felt compelled to share them.
Ash'aru, ki mela pari kalu'mi, sol'ura.
Ash'aru, ki nedamáti mak'aru, taak'ura.
Lumi'ru valura'mi kaminila, nok'ura.
The poem was in old-form Togruti, and Ahsoka was mostly unfamiliar with the language. In fact, she wasn't really sure what the words were meant for; perhaps an ancient lullaby or part of some initiation ceremony. Still she felt sure that these were the words she was looking for, something she wanted to say, something she wanted to share with the young man asleep in her lap.
So, after taking a soft breath - and pushing back the silly embarrassment she felt at speaking these forgotten words - she spoke.
"Ash'aru, ki mela pari kalu'mi, sol'ura"
Together, we wake and share my chase, when the sun rises.
It would be for the best, one day. Ahsoka knew it. Or at least, she believed it. She had to. But right now, it was dark. Surely one day the Force would work out its will, and would be right again. But Ahsoka knew that until that day, if there was to be any light at all, it would have to be themselves.
"Ash'aru, ki nedamáti mak'aru, taak'ura."
Together, we find shelter in each other's arms, when the storm comes.
And she also realized that what she had with Rex was different from any relationship she'd had before: her cherished friendship with Barriss, her childhood adoration of Master Plo Koon, her rocky but fierce bond with her own Master and brother and friend. Even her giddy, sometimes flirtatious experimentation with Lux Bonteri.
"Lumi'ru valura'mi kaminila, nok'ura."
The light from your eyes shows me the way, when night falls.
Rex was different. And yet, she knew it wasn't just Rex that made the difference. There was something about the two of them, together, and both of them were only beginning to realize that.
"Ash'aru," she whispered to Rex, her own eyelids beginning to grow heavy. They would face the darkness, the storm, and the night, and the magic of that old, forgotten word would make all the difference. Ash'aru.
Together.
Author's Note: (Updated 10/5/12)
Major changes to this chapter, the largest being Rex's (attempted) suicide attempt. I've long felt that this was how this chapter *should* have gone, but I shied away from it in the first version of this chapter. Hopefully this does justice to the emotional drama without being over-the-top.
Thanks to laloga for her help and feedback!
Reviews are always appreciated. :)
