doandordie | IC Inbox

[The words hit Bodhi like a wet sack of cement and he's not prepared to deal with it. He doesn't know what to say, what to do, or what Cassian is looking for right now. There's something incredibly tragic about those words, and now Bodhi's suddenly not sure whether this droid has helped or hindered Cassian.

Because they've never talked about Kay. They never talked about Cassian's feelings or the burdens he carried with him. That was never what this was.

After a couple brief moments of consideration, Bodhi knows there's nothing he can say. He doesn't know anything beyond the droid having been Cassian's partner in rebellion missions. Bodhi had hardly had time to get to know Kay in any real fashion, and the last thing he wants is to placate or say anything that sounds hollow.

So instead of anything at all, he decides to take a different approach. Tea always makes things better--even if only superficially for a short amount of time. Without saying anything, he gets up and heads to the kitchenette, silently busying himself with getting a kettle on.]

[Cassian considers leaving Bodhi to his droid. Taking his cigarettes and going for a walk to clear his head and fall back into old routines. It's not that he wants Kay to be forgotten. He could never forget the droid that had been like best friend at times and a responsibility at others. They took care of each other.

It's just that thinking about everything he gave up, from the very beginning with his father, to the end with his life, sets him on a dangerous path. Opening the boxes he kept everything so tightly locked down in could easily lead to disaster for him. It could get out of hand. He could lose himself to the emotions. There were a lot of them, and he had rarely allowed himself to deal with any of them. They would devour him if he let them loose.

He watches the droid follow on Bodhi's heels and pushes to his feet, moving toward the kitchen. There's a long pause while he considers his next course of action, watching Bodhi prepare the water for tea, and then he's behind the pilot with a tired forehead pressing into the back of his shoulder. A moment later it's followed by Cassian leaning into him just slightly.

He doesn't know how to even begin to share this. So he starts with the truth he tells himself every time, though it feels like a lie each time he says it.]

There wasn't time.

[He doesn't pause in what he's doing when Cassian comes into the kitchenette; he pulls out one of the more soothing blends of tea he's come upon in his time on the island, pulls out mugs and anything else they may need.

But when Cassian starts leaning into him, Bodhi rests his hands on the counter and directs his attention to the other man. He doesn't turn around, however. As soon as Cassian speaks, Bodhi has a feeling it might be easier to have this conversation without facing each other. At least, not until there's tea to act as an escape.]

How did it happen?

[It's the question he hasn't asked in all these months. He inferred over the course of it all that it was nothing good, nothing good had come out of that day, at least in the specific context of their survival. But it wasn't his place; Cassian was the one who actually knew Kay, and Bodhi didn't want to upset him by bringing it up before he was ready.

The only reason he asks now is simply because Cassian seems to want to talk about it, and Bodhi is committed to listen for as long as it's needed.]

When we made it to the archives, Kay stayed in the main room to help us pinpoint the location of the file and keep watch, while we went in to extract it.

Our access of the archives must have triggered an extra alarm. When the troopers started coming for us, Kay sealed us into the archives. He used the last moments of his life to locate the file and buy us more time to get it. I assume he destroyed the panel to keep the door from opening so they couldn't reach us.

[He is quiet for a moment, his forehead still pressed to Bodhi's shoulder, unwilling to move for the same reasons. He doesn't want anyone seeing the look on his face again. But even Cassian can't fully keep the pain out of his voice.]

His last word over the comm was 'climb'. [And Cassian had known then and there that Kay was shutting down. He had heard the distortion in his voice.]

[Even though Bodhi had long since assumed Kay was destroyed, it hurts to hear what exactly happened. He doesn't kid himself to thinking that he can fully empathize with Cassian; he'd known the droid for a matter of hours in comparison to what was likely years. The pain Cassian must feel is immense, and it's telling that he can pick it up so easily in his voice.

He's not sure what to say in response to this, though. Apologize? That would just be placating and meaningless. Especially when it's not his fault that Kay was destroyed. An apology wouldn't bring Kay back, and he's not sure if anything can. It's something to think about, maybe look into.

But that doesn't help right now. He's not sure if anything can, apart from just letting Cassian say what he needs to.]

He was instrumental in the success of the mission. [Which is stating the obvious. But he can't bring himself to say more; it would edge into making assumptions about Kay, and while they might not be incorrect at all, it wasn't his place to do so.]

He was. [He appreciates those words far more than any placating or apologizing Bodhi could have attempted. After a moment, his arms wrap around Bodhi from behind and he rests his forehead more evenly on Bodhi's shoulder with a slow, painful exhale.

After a moment of silence, he slips away and moves to take a seat, waiting for Bodhi to finish with the tea. He could leave it at that. He doesn't need to share. Bodhi has no reason to need to know the details of his life. But Cassian closes his eyes with his head bowed and loses himself in memories.]

He looked out for me. [He was the only one, save the passive looking out that Mon Mothma had attempted and failed over the years.]

[As tempted as he is to set his hand on Cassian's, or to turn around and give him a better hug, he refrains from doing so. It's just not worth the risk when he's so uncertain about how Cassian will react, and whether it'll help or hinder. It's so hard to tell when this is such new territory.

So he opts for continuing with his original plan, and it's a bit easier once Cassian moves to the table. Bodhi finishes making the tea, and soon after brings two mugs to the table. He sits across for him, holding his own cup in his hands.]

He was a good droid. Truly one of a kind.

[Cassian drinks from his own mug in silence for a time, letting Bodhi's words linger in his mind. Kay was more than a droid, to him, and he hadn't realized just how much he had come to rely on his snarky co-pilot until he had lost him for good.

He turned the cup in his hands and then leaned back in his chair.]

I was the one who reprogrammed him. I didn't get it right, exactly. There were a lot of protections in place against reprogramming, and when I finished, there were a lot of bugs in the new program. Glitches. They made him a terrible liar, but they gave him a lot more freedom than the usual driod programming allows for. He just kept adapting and disobeying orders.

[There's a short, soft sound of a cut off laugh as he stares back into his tea.] He used to tell me our missions would go a lot smoother if I'd listen to him more. He was usually right.

[Words are failing Bodhi. He was never good at this sort of thing, and it's even harder with Cassian sharing so much more information. The additional context explains a lot, and there's a bit of a hopeless feeling now. There's not really a fix to this, not that Bodhi can think of.

No droid is ever going to be the same, much as one person can never truly replace another. If only it were possible-- Bodhi stops himself at that thought. If only because there's no point in following that line of thought.

Even suggesting it would be cruel.]

I have some cookies that will go with the tea. [He's flying blind here, really. But food will help, surely. Pushing away from the table, he fetches a tin from the cabinet and brings it over, returning to his seat.]

[It's almost a relief when Bodhi doesn't press further, and doesn't seem inclined to push. Cassian has said more or less all he is willing to on the matter. He's never really been one to share readily, or much. He was an intelligence officer. Keeping his ears open and his mouth shut was his life.

He doesn't watch Bodhi leave, or follow his movements, staring at the table distantly instead. When the other man returns, he takes one of the cookies, and bites off a piece of it before coming back from the distant lands of his memory.]

This is good tea.

IC Inbox - Piraeus

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