Summary

"After several long minutes of walking, Cal finally stopped wondering where Prauf was taking him. He stopped asking questions to himself, except the question of whether he would collapse or take another step. The energy with which he had felt filled during their escape from the Seventh Heaven had left him. When he reached total exhaustion, he continued. His feet were covered with blisters from his undersized boots and walking was a real ordeal. Each new step was more painful than the previous one, and he was in agony."

A/N: A transitional chapter. It's not my favorite and I have to admit that I had a hard time finding the inspiration to write it. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

I thank melrosethecat for the beta-reading.

Chapter 6 – Hosted

It's a trap.

His mind was trying to warn him of the danger, but Cal was too tired to react. After all, he had only known this 'Prauf' for a few hours.

What if this was a trap? What if his kindness and smiles were just a façade hiding another Darzay?

Cal watched the back of Prauf, who was walking ahead of him with a quick step. The Abednedo didn't know about his powers. He hadn't seen what had happened in Darzay's office. Or, if he had seen, he hadn't understood.

Where were they going? Should he turn around and run away? But where to go?

After several long minutes of walking, Cal finally stopped wondering where Prauf was taking him. He stopped asking questions to himself, except the question of whether he would collapse or take another step. The energy with which he had felt filled during their escape from the Seventh Heaven had left him. When he reached total exhaustion, he continued. His feet were covered with blisters from his undersized boots and walking was a real ordeal. Each new step was more painful than the previous one, and he was in agony.

Cal was about to collapse crying like a baby when Prauf finally stopped in front of a small, drab, unassuming building. After a short pause, the Abednedo entered the building without hesitation, and Cal followed him inside. They took a gray concrete staircase that led them to the second floor. The hallway in which they arrived looked like any other run-down apartment block hallway. Cal silently noted the faint smell of urine wafting in the air. Misery was everywhere on Bracca.

Prauf continued on his way to the second door on the right. He stopped again and pulled out a key card to unlock the door.

"Welcome to my home," Prauf announced as he pushed open the door and invited Cal to follow him into his apartment. "It's not the greatest luxury, but I guess it's better than anything you've experienced lately."

He had a point. Cal couldn't say he missed his crate under the stairs or his uncomfortable straw mattress in the Seventh Heaven.

The boy examined the room with a wary eye. The apartment was more pleasant and comfortable than he had expected. A kitchenette occupied half of what Cal assumed was the living room. The other half consisted of an old brown sofa and a large coffee table. A beautiful carpet with intricate Alderaanian patterns covered the floor. Two doors – one on the left on the back wall and one on the right wall – probably led to the bedroom and bathroom.

"You live alone?" asked Cal curiously.

"I was married," replied Prauf morosely. "But she left. I used to be an engineer. When the Empire came, I lost my job – like all the aliens. She didn't accept having to cut back on her lifestyle. I couldn't resolve to leave Bracca."

When he realized that Cal was looking at him, Prauf shrugged, and then he changed the subject, trying to adopt a more cheerful tone.

"If you're hungry, there's food in the fridge. And the bathroom is over there," he added, pointing to the door on the right. "I have to run, I'm already late for work. Don't worry, you're safe. No one can get in here but me. Tomorrow I'll take you to see the Guild recruiter. In the meantime, get some rest. Well, see you later."

Prauf gave him a small nod and left. Cal heard the characteristic click of a door being locked. He then had neither the will nor the strength to hold back, and he collapsed on the old sofa, making all its springs squeak. He remained there for a long time, motionless, enjoying the cessation of movement, not knowing if he would manage to stand up again and not caring.

Suddenly, he felt like a cool draft brushing his skin, making his hair stand on end one by one. He straightened up abruptly, sweating. His heart was pounding. How long had he slept? Darzay was going to kill him...

It was then that he remembered where he was and what had happened.

Murderer.

Chasing out the little voice whispering in the corner of his head, Cal quietly stood up and walked silently to the window. Outside it was night, and the neon lights that illuminated the street projected their colored lights on the crowd of workers heading home. He stood there for a moment watching them, hypnotized by the human flow that was pouring in front of his eyes like a huge living river.

Eventually he took his eyes off the window to look at the clock on the wall. Prauf wasn't there yet, but he would surely come soon. What if he took the opportunity to take a shower?

Cal headed for the bathroom. He entered cautiously, inspecting the room with his eyes to make sure he was in no danger. It was filled with a monumental jumble – a loth-cat wouldn't have found its kittens there. Still, he managed to find a clean towel in the clutter of clothes piled there. Then he undressed and entered the shower stall. How long had it been since he had taken a real shower? Since the Albedo Brave. Since—

It felt like an eternity.

As the hot water began to flow, Cal couldn't hold back a sigh of relief. It felt so pleasant. He had been alone for so long that he had forgotten that delightful sensation of warm water running over his skin, of heat warming his body chilled by the rain that fell almost continuously on Bracca. After all the ordeals he had just lived through, he could finally allow himself to hope to get back to a normal life. A new life.

At this thought, he could not contain the emotions that were trying to pour out of his overflowing heart. He tried to hold back his tears, but unsuccessfully because they turned into sobs that shook him violently. The hot water washed away the grime and tears that Cal had accumulated over the past year.

Finally, the nightmare was over. Finally.

When he had no more tears to shed, Cal turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He quickly dried himself without daring to stare at his reflection in the mirror for fear of facing the shadow of the Padawan he had once been, and he put on his old clothes before clumsily combing his hair with his fingers. It had grown so much since... since that day.

When he came out of the bathroom, Prauf had returned. He was waiting for him in the kitchen. He had put two steaming bowls and two small round loaves of bread on the table. He invited Cal to join him with a wave of his hand. The boy approached without saying anything and sat at the table with him. He sniffed the good smell of soup emanating from his bowl before grabbing it, being careful to not burn himself. He kept the bowl in his hands, enjoying the comforting warmth for a moment before drinking its contents.

Hmmm. It was delicious. Never in his life had he eaten such good soup.

"Hey, slow down," Prauf said gently. "You might choke."

Cal stopped just in time, preventing Prauf's prediction from coming true. Then he took the bread that lay before him. It was a simple rehydrated bread to which he would have paid no attention when he was still a Padawan. Today, it was the most appetizing food he had seen in months. The golden crust crunched delightfully under his teeth. The soft, still-warm crumb was even better.

A new life. A normal life.

For no reason, it seemed, tears welled up in his eyes and slowly rolled down his cheeks before he could push them back. He couldn't wipe them away without revealing his weakness. So, he lowered his head, and his long red hair veiled his face.

He didn't know that Prauf had seen the drops glisten on his freckled cheeks and then fade to the corners of his mouth. The frightening ordeal he had just been through, the terrible months of servitude he had just lived through – it was enough to break even the strongest.

As if to break the awkward silence that had set in, Prauf cleared his throat before speaking again.

"Wait for me here and take off your top. I'll be right back with something to treat your wounds. You need to make a good impression on the Guild recruiter tomorrow."

Prauf stood up, and Cal took the opportunity to discreetly wipe away his tears and finish his soup. He put his empty bowl back on the table as Prauf returned with a nearly empty old tube of bacta. Cal removed his tunic as the Abdnedo pulled a chair over to face him. Prauf opened the tube, and a translucent gel with a bluish sheen came out.

When Prauf touched his skin to apply the gel, Cal recoiled. He hunched his frail shoulders, as if he were trying to protect himself from being hit. As if the slightest physical contact could burn him.

Prauf must have noticed his reaction because he became softer. He spread the gel as gently as possible on the cuts and bruises that covered the boy's body. Cal shivered at the cool gel on his skin. The bacta quickly took effect, soothing his wounds. He sighed again in relief.

"Most of the bruises should be gone by tomorrow," Prauf said softly. "And the cuts should have begun to heal."

Apparently the Abednedo liked to make conversation alone, which obviously suited Cal. The less he talked, the better his chances of staying alive.

"However, I can't do anything about that old scar on your neck. I don't know who treated it, but he wasn't very good at it. It's not pretty. How did you get that?"

Cal suddenly froze at this question and hunched his shoulders. Prauf couldn't know. He shouldn't know. Since he could hardly comment on these words, Cal smiled sadly without responding.

"Well, it doesn't matter," said the alien, closing the tube before putting it on the table next to him. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine. Thank you," assured Cal, trying to keep himself from wincing with every movement he made.

He could see the doubt in Prauf's eyes, but the Abednedo said nothing.

"Come on, now we're going to take care of your hair," announced Prauf.

"My hair?" asked Cal, surprised.

"Yeah. You need a good haircut. It's damaged and tangled. I remind you that you need to make a good impression if you want to get this job. The Guild wants a healthy rigger, not a sickly weakling who will cost them more money than he brings."

Prauf turned to grab a long pair of scissors from a drawer, and then stood behind Cal.

Tshk. Tshk. Tshk.

Only the sound of the scissors broke the silence that had returned between them.

Cal felt the strands of hair brush against his bare shoulders, falling to the ground like leaves falling from trees in autumn. He looked at the fiery red locks scattered on the floor, reflecting the light of the kitchen neon.

A new life. A normal life.

"That's it, I'm done," Prauf announced proudly as he put the scissors back in their place.

Cal ran his hand through his hair to apprehend his new cut. With a sparkling in his eye, Prauf watched him do it, an amused smile on his face.

"I left you with a little bit of length. I know you humans are attached to your hair. I never quite understood what you saw in them, but hey." He paused briefly, watching Cal hold back a yawn before resuming. "You should get some rest. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

Prauf was right. Cal was exhausted.

Following his advice, the boy stood up, put his tunic back on, and wished Prauf a good night. Once the Abednedo was in his room, Cal lay down on the old sofa. He stared at the cracks that ran across the white ceiling for a while, looking for a sleep that did not come. The images of the last few hours were swirling in his head like a never-ending whirlwind. He saw the Seventh Heaven again, Vurtchaa guiding him through the richly carpeted hallway, the huge carved wooden door, the metal desk hitting his stomach, Darzay unbuckling his belt, the bronze trophy wobbling on the shelf...

A new life. A normal life.

Could he really hope for that?

He closed his eyes.

Murderer.

No.

Even if he was finally free from him, Cal knew deep down that Darzay would never stop haunting his darkest nightmares.