Though he hardly had the energy to spare, Horatio had been pacing the lounge he'd been directed to for what had felt like an hour, Phantom watching him calmly from her cozy, curled up perch atop a pillow. It was a modestly decorated room, bright and spacious with open windows and comfortable plush couches arranged about its periphery, though nowhere near as opulent as he would have expected a Royal home to be. As his mind raced while he waited for the Natiyrs, faint memories of the first time he'd been inside the Rys'tihn Retreat floated through his thoughts, back before he'd been introduced to his son, before his life had been completely altered...
Despite shutting out most of his senses in his daze, he heard a set of small footsteps rapidly approaching him, distracting him. The tiny feet were freely sprinting towards him, accompanied by mischievous giggling as a grinning five-year-old human girl came to a sliding stop just inside the room in front of him. Her brown hair that swayed behind her shimmered with hints of a vibrant copper, and she looked up at him with the kindest light brown eyes, her smile not diminishing at all in the presence of a total stranger. Her face was...almost familiar, like someone he'd known in a long forgotten dream, but he was fairly sure he'd never met her before.
"Hi," she beamed up at him, studying his face with innocent curiosity. "You look like you need a hug."
Before he could deny her, she swept up to him and wrapped her arms tightly, earnestly around his legs, freezing him in place. He didn't know how to respond, unwilling to move for fear of scaring her, but she didn't let go for a long, tender moment. Her refreshingly sweet nature reminded him so much of his own little Jewel whom he hadn't seen for almost two weeks...
The girl eventually stepped back from him, eagerly holding up a small flower in her hand for him to take. He hesitated briefly, only accepting the gift because of her unrelenting insistence, and he was unsure what to make of it. The petals were brilliantly white, almost sparkling, with streaks of red lining its inner, deeper core. Its shape and its familiar fragrance easily reminded him of the purple panna flowers that were featured in every room and grew abundantly on the grounds, but he could never recall seeing a white one.
"I saved this one," the girl told him proudly. "The white flowers are my favorite, even though they're supposed to be purple. The gardeners always cut them off the panna vines and throw them away, but I think they're special. I want you to have it."
Moved by her offer, Horatio lowered himself to one knee to be eye level with her, desperately searching her face for how he knew her. The girl's genuine smile was so disarming, so familiar...
"Amalia!"
That voice, he was certain he knew, locking his breath in his chest. It had echoed from far down the hall to them, once again enveloping him in memories he hadn't considered in years. He was so inwardly focused, he didn't even recognize the guilty look on the girl's face as the voice called out again, far closer this time.
"Amalia! Amalia, where are you?"
He had only just looked up to the doorway when she stepped through with urgency, entirely focused on the girl who had turned to face her. "Amalia - there you are! What are you doing up here? Your father is waiting for you downstairs."
Amalia turned to Horatio, still smiling. "I made a friend."
Meeting Cordira Natiyr's gaze for the first time in eight years, Horatio slowly stood, swallowing an anxious lump in his throat. Save for her blazing red hair and gray eyes, she was an exact copy of his former partner in her thirties, a cruel window back in time to his past. It wasn't her fault she was a clone of her mother, of course, but it tortured him all the same. The small girl still beaming before him was Cordira's daughter, he suddenly realized, which was why he had recognized her, and his stomach sank even further to his feet; how was Cordira going to react to his presence, nevermind the fact that he had been talking to her little girl?
Cordira's expression was one of uncertainty, a dozen different emotions filtering through her slate gray eyes before she spoke again. "Horatio... It's good to see you."
Stunned, Horatio struggled to respond. His voice had all but left him. "You, too." Against his better judgment, he continued. "...you look good."
Cordira visibly relaxed as a gentle smile softened her features. Her delicate Coruscanti accent was almost comforting. "A far cry better than the last time you saw me, I'm sure."
"Easily."
After rescuing her from her captors on Myrkr eight years ago, Horatio had escaped with her just as her systems had begun to crash in earnest. He had taken her to the closest med center he could find, hoping he had been fast enough to save her, but he had been forced to leave before he had seen to her recovery. He knew she had eventually healed, but Wil had told him it had taken some time, and he had left Paneau in the interim. They hadn't crossed paths since, and he wasn't expecting such a...calm, casual reaction from her, especially after the deep pain he knew he'd caused her.
"I heard what happened to your daughter," she continued with care, tucking a stray strand of her fire red hair behind her ear. "I'm glad she's alright."
His heart caught in his throat. "Thanks to your mother."
Though he expected Cordira's expression to darken for daring to mention the woman he'd gotten killed just days ago, a sympathetic look overcame her instead. "She does have that knack, doesn't she... Finding people who are lost."
Horatio could no longer breathe, his eyes losing their focus. Why had she said it that way, using present tense? Mand was gone, and Cordira would have known that more acutely than anyone, having always had such a close connection to her mother in the Force. His heart ached intensely with each slowing beat. Was she still in denial herself?
"Horatio," Cordira earned his attention once more, "this is my daughter, Amalia." She stepped up behind the girl, gripping her shoulders. "Say hello."
Accustomed to being instructed in such a manner, Amalia smiled shyly and complied. "Hi, Mr. Horatio."
"Nice to meet you," he managed weakly, appreciative of Cordira's expert redirect. "Amalia... That's a beautiful name."
"...we've discovered that...it was my given name...when I was born."
The new breathless voice that floated into the room left Horatio entirely certain he was hallucinating as his heart came to a frenzied halt. Even as he watched his former partner slowly stepping into view, being carefully supported by her twin sister Adalia as her grievous wound still clearly ailed her, he didn't dare trust his eyes, either.
"Grandma!"
Amalia left her mother's hold and jumped over to Mand's side, sharing with her an equally enthusiastic hug. Both Mand and Adalia smiled as Mand weakly wrapped her arm around the girl, but it was Cordira's protest that stopped the older women.
"Mother, you should still be resting!"
"I'll be...alright, sweetheart," Mand countered with a gracious smile, righting herself with Adalia's help. "Horatio and I...need to talk... He has waited...long enough."
Her voice was so rough and raspy, she sounded as though she had to fight for every word, every breath, and she appeared just as weak. Still, she resolutely stood before him, meeting his gaze with meaningful sympathy and a wordless apology; she seemed to expect his state of shock.
Though she remained worried for her mother, Cordira ushered a reluctant Amalia away with soft, affectionate goodbyes, even giving Horatio a warm smile as she left with her daughter. Adalia slowly stepped with Mand over to a couch beneath a shaded window and eased her down onto it, ensuring she was comfortably situated and tolerating her semi-reclined position well before she, too, left and spoke to Horatio just as much as to her sister.
"I'll be just down the hall."
As Mand's eyes found Horatio again, he stared back blankly. He hadn't breathed, he hadn't moved from where he stood, too stunned and locked in a haze of disbelief to process much else. Nothing seemed real; it had to be a dream, he decided, for there was no other explanation. He had held Mand's lifeless body in his arms, he had carried her to her grieving husband, and he had mourned her death like no other loss in his life. She couldn't be sitting there, gasping every few moments as though she had to remind her damaged lungs to work. He had completely lost his mind.
"Horatio, please," she begged weakly, lightly patting the couch beside her, "...come sit."
Despite not being consciously in control of his movements, his legs complied with her request on their own and slowly brought him to her side. His gaze never left the floor in front of him as he lowered himself to the couch, firmly entrenched in his denial even as she reached over and gripped his hand in his lap. Just like his despair-filled encounter with the late Deilia Rys'tihn days ago, though...he knew she couldn't be real.
"I know you must have...a thousand questions," she breathed, "and I will answer them, but first...I owe you an apology." She squeezed his hand with surprising strength, bringing his attention to her grip. Her touch had calmed his trembling as he felt a familiar warm sensation wash over his entire body, melting the painful tension he'd held onto for so long. She had used the Force on him before in response to his intense distress, and it felt exactly the same - peaceful, soothing, liberating. Though his mind continued to brutally counter and crush every fleeting wisp of hope he felt from his heart, he finally met her gaze, letting go of a choked breath.
"I am so sorry...for what you've been through," she continued, deep regret saturating her rough voice. "I know you've thought me dead...these past few days. I didn't have time...to warn you, and you left before...before Rech recognized that he could bring me back." She paused briefly, a genuine smile warming her expression. "But...it was you who saved me, you know... You put that bacta...on my wounds...began the healing process...while I couldn't do any of it myself. Rech told me...that I wouldn't have survived without it. So...thank you."
Still unable to breathe, Horatio simply stared, watching the ragged, labored rise and fall of her damaged chest. In his mind, he still saw the burned muscles, the exposed bones...but again Mand's hold tightening around his hand brought him back to her.
"I'll be okay, Horatio," she soothed, aptly sensing his anxiety. "I still have some mending to do...and I may never be a hundred percent again, but...I am still here. And I am grateful."
Her assumption had been correct - he did have a thousand questions tearing through his mind as he finally, finally accepted that she was really alive beside him, that she had survived her terrible injury he had watched her sustain, but...only one question pounded mercilessly at his heart. It bored through him, putting him in the same desolate, emotional state he'd tried to outrun for days...
"Why, Kil," he whispered, already shedding tears he couldn't control, "...why did you save me?"
Wholly unprepared for his question, Mand hardly breathed herself, studying his eyes with confusion. She seemed to be expecting an entirely different question from him altogether, but he needed the answer. He couldn't help the righteous anger that had returned to him in earnest.
"You knew what that blast was going to do to you..."
Mand's gaze softened with understanding. "I did..."
"And you knew that it was meant for me."
Her voice was even softer still. "I did..."
"Then why," he charged bitterly, "why would you do that?"
Her eyes were so full of care and compassion. "...for those very reasons."
Unable to tolerate her gaze any longer, he stood from her side and stepped away with his back to her, wrapping his arms around his own chest to stifle his trembling that had returned with a vengeance. He could only listen to her explanation without also seeing her pitying expression, unwilling to let her see his painful breakdown as she spoke.
"Yes...I knew what the blast would do to me. But I also knew...what it would do to you. You were already wounded...weakened... Even if I had been standing...right beside you... I couldn't have brought you back from that. My healing skills are...limited at best. You wouldn't have survived. But I thought I might have had a chance, if I could deflect some of its energy...and what I couldn't deflect, I would absorb.
"But...I absorbed too much. I knew right away that the damage was...severe...so I put myself in a suspended state. A hibernation. It would slow the spread of tissue death...until I could be treated. So I appeared dead to everyone...even my husband. It tested his abilities to their limits, bringing me back, but...it worked. I have a durasteel plate now where my sternum used to be... The blast had obliterated it...but I can live with that.
"And yes," she continued, taking in a deep breath, "I also knew that it was meant for you. But I made a choice. No matter what happened to me...I wasn't going to let Jewel grow up without you. And I certainly wasn't going to let Wil...watch you die in front of him. He's been through enough already. You all have.
"I know you still don't believe me, but...Horatio...you are family. And this is what family does. We protect each other. I would do it all again...in a heartbeat...if I had to... I want you to know that. You belong here... Stay."
His conflict ate through him. Though he wanted nothing more, to finally have a place to call home, where he knew his partner and his daughter would be safe...he realized it wasn't his decision to make.
"That's not up to me," he breathed, only partially turning back to her. "It's Wil's choice, not mine."
"...have you spoken to him?"
He shook his head weakly, his stamina worn away by his distress. He wasn't sure how much longer he could remain standing on his own, as weak as his turmoil had left him. She seemed to recognize his fatigue and lifted her hand toward him, calmly asking for him to return.
"Come...sit back down."
Again he obliged without thinking, taking up her hand once more as he settled himself into the couch. It seemed suddenly far more comfortable than he remembered, readily accepting his weary body. He even allowed his head to fall back as Phantom leaped up onto the arm rest beside him, being pulled under by a peaceful warmth he no longer had the strength to fight. Just next to him, Mand squeezed his hand again, her gentle, soothing voice sending him adrift...
Rest...
