(prompt request- the way you said "I love you": 11/26- With a shuddering gasp/Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave
this is not really a spoiler for Copero, because even having read the datamine I'm pretty sure this scene is quite entirely imagined.
but Nine is not the begging type, not usually. the first time Theron leaves, she does not ask him to stay; he finds his way back to her in time. the second time he leaves her is on Umbara. this is the third.)
(and it felt like a kiss)
Go, Lana says. I'll clean up the rest of this mess. Go catch Theron.
Nine runs.
She runs through hallway after hallway, Theron's footsteps echoing just out of sight in front of her, always just around the next corner- but it's him. She doesn't need to see him to know it, not after years spent fighting side by side; they knew each other's patterns, could predict which way the other would turn by the subtle shifts of weight at each other's backs, the lighter strike of one foot compared to the other signalling a turn, a lengthening stride-
(She'd thought she could predict him, at least. She isn't so sure any more.)
But when she makes the last turn he isn't there. His shuttle stands ready on a far platform but the engines are silent, the boarding ramp still stowed away, and between her and the platform there's nothing but empty corridor and tall pillars. He must have come this way. Where is he?
Her mind retraces her steps as she keeps moving forward. If he went left instead of right at the first turning, he might have-
No. Impossible. He's got to leave Copero now, the artifact in hand and his arrangement with the Chiss shattered, and this was the only way to his shuttle. He must be here. Stealthed, perhaps, but he hates generators: they gave him headaches, he said, and he only ever used them when he was with her.
Another step, and another, past the first set of columns, glancing from side to side along the background mosaics for the telltale out-of-focus flicker of someone hiding in plain sight. As she scans the left-hand niche there's something on the floor, a scrap of fabric or a bit of strapping- it might be nothing, just trash, but the right-hand niche's empty and so she stoops to pick it up, to tuck it into her pocket for later analysis. She turns, and-
Theron's on her like a shot, then, darting around the pillar to shove her back against the wall, one hand pressed across her mouth to mute her cry of surprise.
This is it, she thinks. This is how I die.
(She always knew he'd be the death of her, one way or another.)
She can't tell what he's got in his other hand, not with his forearm low across her hips- one of his pistols, most likely, or a little knife, it'd have to be something small at so close a distance. He starts to raise it higher, up toward her throat. Her lower body's free; she could get away now. She ought to move. She has to move, but- Void damn you, Theron, if you're going to do this then do it quickly-
His right hand is empty when it comes up along the side of her cheek.
"Don't move," he whispers, the cold anger in his eyes that shocked her so on Umbara fading like a mask dropping away, and takes his other hand from her mouth to catch her face between his palms. "This is the only place the cameras can't see."
She blinks up at him, silent, heartbeat thudding so hard he can probably feel it vibrating through her bones into his cupped fingers- she was right, she was right even though Lana'd thought she'd lost her mind when she shoved the datapad into Lana's hand (the Scions are our allies, she'd said. It's a ploy. He's trying to throw you off his trail- but it wasn't the same at all, not a Scion at all but another mask, one that reminded her of a picture he'd taken as they explored the palace on Zakuul in the first days after her reluctant coronation.
Like something out of a nightmare. They'd looked up at the statue, its fangs sharp and inlaid stone eyes glimmering. And I thought the old Jedi stories were bad.
She knew, then. She knew he was trying to tell her something, but ah, love-)
There are a hundred things she wants to ask him but just like then, standing in her quarters as her datapad fell from her shaking hands, all she can say is the same thing over and over again. "Theron," she says, "Theron, why?"
He presses his forehead to hers. "I can't- there's not enough time, but-" whatever composure he was hanging onto shatters when she reaches up to hold him, her fingers trying to thread through his hair out of familiarity but brushing bare skin instead- "oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"
It's their first kiss all over again, bright and burning and ripping every bit of air out of her lungs until she has to pull away, shivering, desperate for breath. As she collects herself she studies him; Theron looks exhausted, huge dark circles beneath his eyes, the shorn areas of his scalp a pallid contrast against the tan of his face and neck. She traces one of the lines with a fingertip.
"You cut your hair."
"I know." He makes a face. "The pattern-"
"It's awful."
"I know." He kisses her again, gentler, brushing back a loose strand of her hair to tuck it behind her ear. "You cut yours, too."
"It burned when the train crashed. I didn't have a choice." She could have hit him for that- he knew exactly what happened because he'd been there, let alone saw the holo she'd broadcast across the galaxy, and a not-so-small part of her wants to slap him, to make him hurt like he hurt her- but she doesn't. "You could have told me you wanted to go undercover, if that's what you're doing."
He doesn't reply, the look in his eyes answer enough. She knew it, she knew it-
"You could have told me," she hisses, lip curling. "Force knows I could have kept it secret. We could have worked it out between us instead of you running off on your own-" Theron shakes his head, starts to say something in response, and she holds her hand up to his mouth to silence him. "You broke my heart, damn you. You don't get to make excuses for that."
"And if I make it through this-" when she starts to lowers her hand he catches it in his, presses it to his lips until she can almost read the movements of his mouth against her palm- "I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. But you have no idea how deep this thing goes, Nine. No idea. I can't even-" He reaches up to his temple and pushes with two fingers until his implant starts to lift free, and as he winces he pulls a little datachip free from where it lay in the socket beneath; tucking it into the hidden pocket in her collar, he straightens his shoulders for a moment and starts to take a step back. "It's all I can give you. I need to go."
"No!" She clutches at the sleeve of his jacket- a new one, still stiff despite the deliberate scuffing and aging, not the soft red leather she's so used to- pulling him back in close. "No, Theron. Please. You've done enough. We can finish this together."
He shakes his head again. "Soon. But not yet. I've almost got them to-"
A noise, far down the corridor; someone's coming.
"Please," she says again as she hangs onto him, voice breaking on the words; he pushes her back to the wall one last time, kisses her hard enough to bruise until he pulls back with a shuddering gasp. "I love you. Don't go."
"I love you, too." Theron forces her fingers open to break her grip, takes her by the wrist. "But I don't have a choice right now, and I need you to do something for me."
She nods.
"They'll have seen me catch you here," he says, "on the cameras. I'll tell them we fought. But you were always better at close quarters than I was." As he says it he curls her hand shut again, forming a fist, raising it until her knuckles brush his cheek. "I would never have beaten you, not in a thousand years. You always said that, didn't you?"
No.
No.
"Four times," Theron closes his eyes for a moment, "should be enough to make it look convincing. Stars know I've got enough bruises other places."
She tries to lower her hand; he pushes it back up, eyes open, and after a moment, the footsteps drawing ever nearer, she swallows and nods.
"I love you," he whispers. "On three."
Three.
Two.
One.
"I love you, too," she says, and draws her fist back.