Wil... I am not someone you want involved in your life. You don't need me...
You 'ave your fazher's 'eart, Wil. Even zhough 'e would never admit it...
You told me I'd be okay, and I believed you...
I am so proud of you, my son...
You made me a promise...
You're more like him than you know...
...I forgive you, Baxer...
Each successive voice that floated through Wil's head brought him closer and closer to the painful surface, and he held tightly to those echoing words and the emotion they brought him. But at the same time, he also found welcome comfort in the quiet darkness that numbed him, briefly transitioning him between the two. He felt...lost, and aimless, adrift without direction, his memories of his family the only things keeping him connected to himself. He was beginning to remember pain, piercing, torturous pain in his head that nearly blinded him and kept him disoriented, and also deep heartache, begging for understanding and absolution, both oddly distant but also so recent.
His body had never been so wholly, disastrously exhausted before, and he wasn't entirely sure why. He'd been grievously wounded just five years prior, narrowly escaping death only with the timely intervention of Jedi Master Healers, but what had made his current injury so much worse? Why couldn't he force himself awake?
"...Dad?"
No longer a memory and sharper than the muddled voices he'd been listening to for a while, Jake's was a welcome one to hear beside him; thank the Force the teen boy hadn't also been hurt.
"Yeah, Jake?"
The tone in Ethan's response was...heavy, laden with emotional pain while still being sensitive to his son.
"...is Mom going to be okay?"
Wil felt his heart skip a beat. Cordira had been injured? How? He wanted nothing more than to launch a flurry of questions at his friend, but still, his body refused to respond.
"...yeah," Ethan finally answered after a long, tense pause, "she'll be okay. She's just...very sad and upset right now."
Another lengthy silence stretched on...
"I want to help her."
"I know you do, son. So do I." A third pause... "Why don't you go give her a hug, and just sit with her? You always make her feel better, even more than I do."
"Okay," Jake agreed softly. "You'll tell me when Uncle Wil wakes up?"
"I have to talk to him for a bit first, but yes, I will. I promise."
Jake's slow footsteps reluctantly left Wil's side and echoed about only briefly, indicating to Wil that he was currently within a small room that he hadn't yet been able to see. Ethan seemed to be seated just beside him, as close as his voice had sounded, but why was he dutifully watching over his friend instead of attending to his distraught wife? Had Wil's condition been so critical that he required Ethan's attention more than Cordira did?
The more he struggled to open his eyes, the stronger his lingering headache pounded behind them, briefly halting his efforts. He must have moved something else or made a small sound, for he heard Ethan swiftly lifting to his feet with urgency beside him. His friend gripped his arm at his side, earnestly worried for him.
"Wil?"
It was ridiculous to him how much strength it cost him to finally look up at Ethan, and it cost him even more to keep his eyes open as they watered with the strain. Besides his headache, what could have possibly sapped his stamina so completely?
"Hey, buddy," Ethan soothed quietly, looking him over with concern. "How are you doing?"
His voice was even more elusive. He tried to speak a handful of times before he finally managed to produce some faint sound. "...I only see...two of you now, instead of three, so, you know...progress."
Ethan's expression hardly changed despite Wil's feeble attempt at self-deprecating humor, his friend instead choosing to focus on assessing his state. "You're probably still concussed; it was pretty severe, and it took Master Kanomin quite a few sessions to mend your skull back together. You're lucky you didn't make it worse when you blacked out."
He struggled to process much, growing frustrated with his own sluggishness. "I am...so...weak..."
Ethan nodded with sympathy. "You gave almost everything you had keeping the peace between Baxer and your father. The Jedi forced you to sleep for nearly four days now, so you could recover. We're still on Coruscant, in a Banarecc compound. My Uncle Veolar wanted to make sure you were...stable before we went home."
Wil blinked. He had been out for four days? That didn't seem possible. His near-fatal stabbing on Dantooine had only put him out of commission for a day or two at most, and he was back in action just a day later. Being kept in a meditative trance by Jedi could explain his mental fog, but he had more pressing concerns.
"...Cordira was hurt?"
An uneasy, reluctant expression rolled over Ethan's features, though he eventually shook his head. His volume as he responded had drastically fallen, too. "No... No, she wasn't hurt." Wil's quizzical look seemed to upset Ethan even further, and he struggled for several tense moments to answer Wil's unasked question, fumbling for words.
"...you had just blacked out right before Liaa and I had found you all. Cordira caught you, and I helped Liaa drag you out of the shop. A fire had broken out in the back, and it swept through the rest of the space so quickly... Cordira had turned to get both Baxer and your father out, but a...a burning beam from the floor above crashed through the ceiling and cut her off from them. It had only just missed her; she could have been crushed.
"And then," he paused, letting go of a shaky breath as he barely managed to form the words, "...there was an explosion. We think a pile of some old fuel cells had ignited, there was no warning..." His face had suddenly drained of all color. "Wil, I'm...I'm so sorry, but...your father didn't survive."
The words echoed about his head for a full, agonizing minute before he truly understood what they meant and began to feel the crushing despair taking hold of his chest, slowly freezing and solidifying his breath without mercy. Silent tears streamed down his face though he hadn't moved a muscle, his heart searing and tearing apart with deep, intense pain he'd felt only once before, when he'd been far too young to properly process it.
...but, at the same time, he realized he didn't feel the same...emptiness, the same broken hole he expected to find within him where his father's presence resided no longer. His mother's death had left him a scared two-year-old boy with a fractured heart, and the bond he'd forged with his father over the past 14 years had mended it, even strengthened it. Horatio had no Force powers, but Wil's strong connection to him, spanning across the galaxy, had saved his life more than once. Despite his sluggish state from the Jedi trance, Wil should have been well able to sense that much of his soul suddenly missing once again, but...that's not what he felt at all.
"No," he managed to breathe, mustering the strength to voice his thoughts aloud, but Ethan misunderstood and continued to console him softly.
"I'm sorry I had to be the one to tell you. I know how hard this is to take in, believe me - "
"No," Wil interrupted, shaking his head. "Ethan, I'm...I'm not in denial, he's...not gone. He's still alive."
Ethan appeared utterly crestfallen. "...I know how much you want to believe that, buddy - "
"I'm telling you, he's still here. He's alive."
"Wil," Ethan warned sadly, "don't."
"But I can sense him - "
"Wil - "
"He's...weaker, but still alive - "
"We found his leg!"
Shocked to silence by Ethan's outburst, Wil could only stare as his friend continued hesitantly, his expression deeply remorseful for having shared something so gruesome.
"...and his hand. I went back three times with Master Kanomin, looking for any sign that he or Baxer could have made it out, but..." He shuddered briefly, struggling to recount the devastating details. "There was nothing else left. The floor below them had collapsed due to the explosion, there was so much debris everywhere... They ran genetic tests on the...on what I'd found, and...it's definitely Horatio. I'm sorry, Wil...but he is gone."
Wil let go of a short, shaking breath, frustrated that he couldn't convince his friend. He knew without a doubt what it was that he sensed, but how could someone without Force sensitivity also trust in that feeling? Maybe his mentor would understand, if she could be drawn out of her morose state...
"Cordira blames herself, doesn't she?"
Ethan nodded, rubbing his face with anxiety. "She said it was what she had taught her Guards to do, to anticipate the unexpected. Always keep a protective shield around the ones you love. She was so worried about you, though, she didn't...her focus was split..."
"Let me talk to her."
Only slightly hiding his surprise, Ethan slowly shook his head. "I...don't think that's a good idea."
"She should be able to sense the same thing I do. She doesn't need to feel this guilt. Please, let me tell her."
Ethan sighed, seeming to briefly consider his plea for a brief moment before shaking his head once more. "I can't... I can't let you give her false hope, just to bring her right back down."
"Ethan, please - "
But he held his palm up, halting Wil's words. "I'm sorry, Wil...but she's been through enough." He stepped back from Wil's side, pausing only briefly to calm his nerves before leaving. "You should get some rest, get your strength back. We'll return to Paneau soon."
Desperate to stall heavy despair that threatened to settle into his heart as Ethan left, Wil closed his eyes and centered himself as he slowly exhaled, hearing Cordira's gentle instruction in his ear. He called on the Force, reaching out to his father, wherever he was, with almost everything he had left.
I'll find you, Dad...