Ah, cozzizzie! I chose the one you didn't want. I'm sorry!
Everyone, I'm going to try changing things up a bit. From now on the stories will be shorter, and span several chapters rather than longer, single chapter ones. I hope that's ok. I'm hoping that will encourage me to update more frequently (and this way I can be naughty and leave you anticipating, right?). ;)
This chapter takes place before any of the others and is about Turns finding his way within his squad on Coruscant. I gave him the back story of originally being in the 501st but being broken after losing everyone at Christophsis, and then Teth. Rex makes a brief appearance too at this sad time, poor guy.
...
The sky was white and smoke and the buildings were shattered mirrors, blue spyres adrift in the smouldering chaos. Screams and blaster fire ricocheted off the rubble and peppered his filters with echoes of death and dying.
The ground,at least what you could see of it, was littered with bodies. Bodies that hadn't been, not so long ago. He tried to block it out, the bodies, and the cries and screams of urging and pleading and pain.
He walked among the carnage, locking his eyes on his targets and lining up shot after shot. Trying desperately to see what was before him. And not to see.
Hours later it was over, and he didn't want to see or hear anything at all.
...
Captain Rex ran a hand over his head and let out a breath, his eyes flicking back and forth over the ground at his feet, although he saw none of it.
There was a small, bitter smile on his face when he looked back up at Commander Fox.
"I just thought...Maybe..."he broke off to scrub a hand over his eyes and shook his head. Fox could see the exhaustion in the Captain's face and posture, and although that wasn't something too uncommon to see in a brother, there was something else there too that he had never witnessed from Rex before and it bothered him deeply.
It was almost...defeat.
"It's a good thought, Rex. He'll do fine here. And...if nothing else, he'll have to tell Ravi to shut up eventually."
A small shadow of a smile crept across the Captain's lips and Fox ushered him to take the chair that sat in front of his desk. He poured a cup of caf and pressed it into the other man's hands before sitting down himself. He glanced down at the transfer sheet in front of him again.
"Not the most exciting post in the galaxy," he signed the flimsi and slid it over to Rex, "but sometimes that's not a bad thing." He looked over at the other man and studied him carefully for a long time. "Im sorry, Rex."
Rex nodded, eyes still not quite registering everything in front of him. The coffee in his hands remained untouched, the tendrils of heat curling before his face unseen.
Fox could only imagine what his old friend was feeling, and he considered how terrible he'd look and act and feel if he was in the same position. He tried to fathom losing even half as many men as the Captain had. He couldn't.
And there wasn't much solace he could offer that seemed any more fitting than a drop in a bucket right now. Except this.
...
Turns could tell they were all trying. And as sincerely and kindly as they knew how. Which was a wonder of itself, considering they were never taught or allowed such a thing. He felt odd being the recipient of it.
And there was a small part of him deep inside that wanted to respond, a whisper within him that wanted to reciprocate. A tiny voice that told him he should care that they took such pains. He should care about them. About anything. But he just didn't.
Or couldn't. He wasn't sure which.
And he didn't speak.
The days passed, and then weeks. And though they cared and pressed and coaxed him to respond, and his heart pleaded for him to answer the call of kinship, and satiate the craving to interact with someone, anyone in any small way. To give into the cry for companionship heavy in his chest, he squashed the desire harshly.
He did what was asked of him and no farther in any pursuit.
Turns found himself avoiding the others whenever possible. He ignored their offers to join them and took to doing everything in solitude. Eating and showering and off-duty activities, normally group endeavors for his brothers, he slipped away from or avoided altogether.
When he was dragged out to drink with his squad by his well-meaning sergeant, they spent what meager credits they had between them buying him a surplus of snacks and a round of the more expensive and sought after drinks. But still he said nothing and drank nothing, until they eventually resolved to let him be for the night.
He sat alone, watching his brothers from a quiet corner of the bar, letting the loud music wash over him deafeningly and glad of it. It distracted him from thinking about anything too deeply, which was always a welcome reprieve.
From where he sat he could see Trust and Hatch playing some sort of drinking game with other brothers who weren't in his squad. They were all equally drunk and had gathered an audience. Surge and Ravi were at the bar chatting up a pretty Twil'ek girl who sat between them, and Lex, their Sergeant, was watching them all quietly from where he sat further down at the bar. He was nursing the same drink he had been for a while. He never drank more than that and Turns wondered if it was due to caution, a sense of duty, or just preference.
The sergeant's roving gaze fell on Turns briefly and he looked away quickly, hoping Lex wouldn't head over and try to strike up a conversation again.
He didn't, and Turns let out a sigh of relief. After a while he rose and gestured that he was headed outside for some fresh air. Lex eyed him for a long moment before nodding, and Turns was grateful to be afforded that small kindness even though he knew he didn't deserve it.
He made his way slowly through the crowd and to the front. A brother he didn't know snagged him on his way out and draped an arm around his shoulders, giving him a smile.
"Come on, buddy. I'll buy you a drink. No need to be that miserable , eh?"
Did he look that unhappy? Turns wondered about that. He didn't feel miserable. He just felt...nothing. He shook his head and pushed off the other man's arm and kept walking. The friendly brother shrugged but let him go, glancing at him curiously over his shoulder.
Turns stepped off to the side of the building and inhaled some of the night air. As much as he liked the distraction of the commotion and music within the bar, he had to get a break from it after a while. Inside it was loud and bright, frenzy and fast and distracting. But out here it was muted and shadows, far-off speeders, muffled titters among drunk brothers and murky sky.
It felt good to breathe and not have eyes on him while doing so. Watching, waiting, worrying, expecting. He knew they meant well. And he knew he was acting like a total dikut. He just didn't have the resolve or desire to do anything else.
He was examining some smudges on the permacrete between his feet when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head fully in that direction and caught sight of a sliver of darkness separating from the darkened edge of a building before becoming one with it once more. Again, tentatively, and then it slinked back into the recess beside the building and was gone.
Intrigued, Turns followed.
He knew it was stupid.
He wasn't armed and wore only the standard dark grey off-duty uniform. But, for the first time in weeks, he felt something. He was curious, and not about to ignore that after so long feeling and having the desire to do nothing.
Whatever it was, it wasn't very hard to trail. It weaved between and around the obstacles in its path haphazardly, slowly but clumsily. Stopping for a purchase of each object, but taking nothing, as though searching aimlessly for something it had never seen. It paused in a patch of blackness for a time before stepping delicately into the light of an overhead lamp.
Turns eyed the small figure curiously.
It was a child, a boy by the looks of him, a mop of messy black hair and what Turns guessed was a sleeping outfit of sorts. The child was unkempt but looked otherwise healthy. Moderately thin but not too much so. No apparent injuries.
He spun at the sound of Turns approaching and let out a small "eep" before slipping beneath a large waste receptacle against the building.
Turns didn't know much about children, but enough to decide this one was a bit too young to be alone. He got on his hands and knees and peered under the rubbage bin.
He could just make out flashes of two eyes reflecting the light from behind him all the way back against the wall.
"Hey...kid." His voice was raspy from weeks of non-use and he had to clear his throat before continuing. "Kid, come on out." He gestured with his hands.
The boy didn't budge.
"I'm not going to hurt you." Turns lay down flat against the permacrete and reached and arm out, but the boy shied away from his grasp.
The trooper considered scooting just a little bit further and making a grab for the kid, but he judged that the permacrete was too rough to drag the kid across, and he really wasn't looking to frighten him any further.
He'd just have to wait until the kid came out on his own. Turns slid back out from underneath the receptable and rose to his knees.
"I'll wait here for you to come out, ok?" He tried to make his voice sound as encouraging as possible and moved back to sit against the far wall. He watched the opening for any signs of little hands or feet, wondering where the boy's parents were.
A short amount of time passed before the tiny, now filthy figure wiggled its way from beneath the bin and sat looking at the trooper before him shyly.
Turns wasn't entirely sure of the approach he should take, so he decided to stay put and see what the kid would do. He hoped he didn't make a bolt for it. After a minute, he extended a hand.
The boy stared at it for long moments before standing up and approaching cautiously. He stopped a few feet away to look between the offered hand and the man sitting before him, before pushing the arm aside and falling into Turn's lap, sobbing.
Turns was taken aback by the ease with which the child switched from being terrified to trusting a stranger so freely and completely. Was it really that easy? The little boy curled up against him, gripping the fabric of the uniform tightly in his little fists, burying his face against Turn's chest.
It was long moments before the child settled and Turns sat quietly, akwardly alternating between patting and rubbing small circles into the little back.
Finally, the boy looked up at the trooper with tired, swollen eyes.
"Are you ready to go home? Can you show me?" Turns asked and the little boy rubbed his eyes furiously but nodded. He stood and waited for the boy to begin leading the way, but he just stood there looking up at him silently amid sniffles.
"Do you know the way?"
The little boy nodded and raised his arms.
Turns picked him up uncertainly. He'd definitely never held a kid before. He wondered if there was a specific way of doing it correctly. He guessed he was tolerable at it because the boy settled against him easily and wrapped his arms around Turn's neck.
Turns let out a long breath and looked over his shoulder in the direction of the bar.
Lex was probably looking for him now.
But he couldn't really bring the kid back to the bar. And he didn't want to betray the kid's newfound trust in him by just handing him over to some security droid.
They'd never let him out of their sight again after this.
He let out a long sigh, then hoisted the boy up a bit higher.
"Ok, kid. Which way? "
...
Let me know what you think ;) Next part should be up in another day or two.