Warnings: Mention of Dead & Murder
Characters: Marvin the Magnificent, Septic Eye Sam
POV: Marvin the Magnificent
Blaster and electrostaff laying to his left, helmet to his right, blue-green eyes pinned on their quaint camp. A few tents, one building that looked like it wanted to collapse again, a small starship. And quiet. So much quiet. Too much.
Marvin closed his eyes and sighed. One year, two, three, four had passed, yet it still stung like a salt in the wound to think about it. To think about bodies littering their camp, smoking starfighters with Sami nearly crushed to death under one of them, shrapnel buried in their leader's body.
Angus had helped him find out what Imperial had ordered the attack. That officer was dead now. Finally. Years of trying to track him down, and Marvin had gotten to watch the light die from his eyes.
So why didn't he feel any better?
His eyes opened again, scanned the camp. He could still imagine the clan's children running about as they sparred with each other. If he let his mind drift enough, he could still hear their leader—Ferr—as she chatted with the other members with her helmet tucked under one arm. He could remember Sami poking at something (what had it been again? It had hitched a ride during a cargo run, but Marvin couldn't remember what creature it was anymore) when they were just a kid, screaming when it lunged and latched onto their helmet while the other kids laughed.
Now, silence. No laughter, no buzzing of conversation, no clanging of training blades or blasters firing at targets set in the distance.
Just deafening silence.
Marvin had one knee pulled to his chest and rested his chin on it as he glared to the desert beyond.
Was revenge…not how to heal? He'd thought it would help. For so long, he'd convinced himself of it.
And yet, as he'd looked at the dead officer laying at his feet, all he'd felt was numb.
How did one heal?
His eyes tracked Sami as they left one of the tents with a toolbox in tow. The only other survivor of their clan. Would anyone even call it a clan anymore? Or were they the only ones who did?
The Human sat themself near their ship and started tinkering with their jetpack.
How did one heal?
He watched Sam remove their helmet to set it aside. They had their tongue sticking out as they focused on the device in their lap. Their hair occasionally fell in their eye, so they'd blow at it with a glare, shake their head only to make it even more of a mess.
Sami was still young—practically still a kid as far as Marvin was concerned—and they seemed…accepting. Happy, even. Had Sami healed? How?
He tilted his head when something sparked, shocking their fingers, but they laughed after the initial surprise.
Marvin couldn't help but smile a little.
Maybe…he had an idea.
The Cathar hauled himself to his feet, put his blaster back at his hip and electrostaff slung across his back, tucked his helmet under his arm. As he approached, Sami waved and grinned at him. They'd repainted their eye-patch recently, hadn't they? The green and blue eye looked clean and fresh again.
"Hey." Marvin sat across from them and picked up the nearest tool. It happened to be a broken one; he couldn't tell what it used to be. "Want any help?"
"Sure!" Such a bubbly voice; they were practically bouncing as they shoved more tools at Marvin and set their jetpack between the two of them.
Maybe healing could just be spending time with those you considered family and looking to the bright side of things. Just like Sami did.