Work Text:
When Wolffe was young, still a cadet, he and Fox used to sneak out of the barracks to look at the stars, on the rare nights where the storm clouds dissipated and the stars appeared. They'd sit, tucked away behind a column so no one walking by could see them, and look up at the stars. They'd whisper about what they'd do when they were free, how they'd explore the universe together. All the places across the Galaxy that they'd learned about that they couldn't wait to visit.
But now, the war is over, Wolffe is free, and Fox isn't here to explore with him.
Because as soon as the war was over, the Chancellor dead at Windu's hand, Fox had sat down in his office with a bottle of moonshine, calmly proceeded to write a novel length confession and promptly blown his own brains out.
Fox remembered every name of the people the Chancellor had him kill. He listed the circumstances, the means, and what he did with the bodies after the fact.
He described with awful clarity how the chip had made his body not his own, how his hands had moved of their own volition. He described how nothing had seemed wrong until afterwards, when once his task was completed the chip would deactivate and he'd be left vomiting and shaking and wondering what the hell had just happened. He wrote how he tried, again and again, to tell someone, anyone.
He described in awful detail how his throat would close, his lungs seize up and his jaw lock. He couldn't write it down or even type it out, whenever he tried his hands would lock up in painful muscle spasms until managed to shove the datapad away from himself.
Fox wrote about how he thought of killing himself before, but he knew that what was happening to him would only pass onto whoever took his place. He said how happy he was that they knew now, what the Chancellor truly was. How glad that his suffering could finally be over. How he just wanted to rest.
Then he stuck his blaster in his mouth and blew his brains out.
All while Wolffe was drinking and laughing and celebrating on Cato Neimoidia, because the War was finally over, and everything would be okay now.
Except for the fact that on the other side of the Galaxy Wolffe's best friend and favourite brother was gone forever. Except for the fact that he'd been suffering and so, so alone.
Fox was dead and Wolffe was left to live with that.
When they were young, long before they ever left Kamino, they wrote a list together. Every place they learned about in their studies that they wanted to visit. Places from the stories told to them by a few of the more friendly trainers, even a couple of the kaminese. After the war, always after the war.
It never occurred to either of them, not once, that they wouldn't make it.
They were young and invincible.
They would live forever.
Yesterday morning, Wolffe had pulled the list carefully out of his breast pocket. The flimsi was getting yellow and delicate with age, the fold lines were soft and furry and beginning to tear at the edges. He pulled a pencil from his pocket and carefully crossed out 'Lothal (winter)' from their list.
It was written in green crayon, the careful hand of a child who wanted to get it right the on the first go. Fox’s handwriting, much neater than Wolffe’s. Fox had wanted to see snow, and according to the trainer, the winters on Lothal were the most beautiful in the Galaxy.
Now, standing here, having just packed up his tent and looking out across the pristine white landscape, Wolffe could take a step back. The snow on Lothal was probably the same as snow anywhere else. The trainer was probably just romanticising idyllic childhood memories.
It certainly was white, he thought to himself, gazing out across the landscape.
Lothal was a weird kind of place. Flat as a pancake until there were sharp steep mounds. The summers here must be pretty too, with miles of golden grass.
Wolffe hitched his pack up his back and started walking.
"Hey Buir."
"Wolffe," Plo said, tusks quivering as he smiled behind his mask. Wolffe waved.
"Happy Life day," Wolffe said, grinning down at the holo.
"And to you, my son," Plo replied. "Did you make it to Lothal?"
"Yup," Wolffe said, turning the com around to show Plo the view. "Landed yesterday morning. Going to hike across to the next city and then catch a flight to the next place on the list."
"And where might that be?" Plo asked, spinning slightly in his desk chair.
"Mon Cala," Wolffe said, scratching his chin. "I'm going out of order a bit, but it's the closest one on the list."
"Ah!" Plo said. "I believe Kit and his Commander Monnk spent some time there. You should comm him."
"Yeah. Yeah maybe."
Wolffe swallowed and scratched the back of his neck. Plo watched him calmly, waiting him out.
"How're things back on Coruscant?" he asked instead of addressing… all that.
Plo sighed, but let it pass.
"Good," he said, leaning closer to his comm. "Boost and Sinker moved into their new apartment last week. They're enjoying their jobs. Comet and Cub are doing well at the university."
"That's good," Wolffe said.
"They're just in the other room, I can-"
"No."
Plo studied him though the holo. Wolffe scratched the back of his head guiltily, running his fingers through his hair.
"I don't want to get in the way," he said hurriedly. "They're all having fun. They don't want to talk to me."
"Wolffe-" Plo started, the skin around his mask crinkling in distress. He leaned closer to the holo, raising one clawed hand up towards Wolffe.
"I should go, Buir," he said, reaching for his com. "Gotta keep moving. Love you. Give my love to the others."
He terminated the call before Plo could look at him with that… look. The one that Wolffe wished was disappointed but was just understanding. Aching. Almost pitying but not quite.
He sighed. He was perched on a rock at the base of one of the strange mountains, looking out across the snow-covered prairies. It was beautiful, he supposed. Calm, and quiet.
Empty.
It stretched for miles, not another living being in sight. Just miles and miles of endless white, so bright it almost hurt his eyes. The air was cool and crisp, and so very still.
Wolffe stood and took a deep breath, still gazing out across the white fields.
Pristine, was the first thought that came to his mind.
Alone was the second.
Just for a moment, he could feel the whole weight of the atmosphere pressing down on him. His chest was crushed by the intense pressure, all the air sucked from his lungs. The silence roared in his ears. Then he took another breath, and the moment passed.
He shouldered his pack again and kept walking.
Wolffe blinked down at the Loth pup. It had been curled up in the wind shadow of a boulder, the only place for miles around that Wolffe had seen that wasn't blanketed in snow.
He hadn't seen it until he'd almost stood on the damn thing, all curled up and white as the surrounding snow. Then he'd stepped on a twig, where it had come from he didn't know, and woken it up.
Now the damn thing wouldn't leave him alone.
"You need to stay here," he told it firmly.
It barked at him and wagged its tail.
"Stay here," he told it firmly. "Or your mother won't be able to find you again."
It sat down and yowled, it's tail beating a few times against the frozen ground.
Wolffe nodded firmly. He turned around and set off again. After a few minutes of fast walking, he stopped and turned on his heel.
The puppy yapped happily at him, it's tail wagging. It walked closer and started chewing on Wolffe’s boot strap.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
"For fucks sake."
"You're just like this other little asshole I used to know," Wolffe seethed.
No matter how far or how fast he walked, the Loth pup kept following him.
"And get out of my damn jerky," he hissed. He grabbed the thing by the scruff of it's neck and yanked it out the bag of jerky. After walking for hours, hoping beyond hope that it would just get bored or tired and go away, he'd given up and sat down to eat his lunch.
Jerky and protein packs. Stuff that was dense and easy to carry. The protein stuff, just compacted nutrients really, tasted like shit, so Wolffe had splashed out on some expensive spiced jerky at the last spaceport. Expensive jerky that the damned hound was now snaffling like it was their own personal snack pack. What with the Kaminoan compensation money, he wasn’t exactly strapped for cash at the moment. He wouldn’t be for years.
He tossed it a little way, and it landed on it's back in a pile of snow. It wiggled around until it righted itself, then started chewing on its prize happily. Wolffe glared as he chewed on his own chunk of jerky. Chewy but still tender, warm spices that had actual favour instead of just heat. Worth every credit he spent on it.
Only for the pup to be munching through it happily.
"He used to follow me around and steal my food too, you prick," he said, jabbing his finger at the thing. It ignored him, and continued chowing down his food, yipping in happiness between bites.
Wolffe sighed and put his finger down, sulkily biting into his jerky. It was cute, he could admit that. It's little nose and weird little feet, the noises it made. But it was also a problem that Wolffe didn't want to deal with.
In that respect, the puppy wasn't like Fox at all.
Sure, Fox had followed Wolffe pretty much everywhere, stolen his food more times than he could count, spent his whole childhood getting under Wolffe's feet whenever he could and revelling in the chaos... but Wolffe would give anything, absolutely anything, to see him again.
Wolffe finished his jerky and took a sip from his cantina, watching as the puppy started to dig into the frozen ground. It lost interest quickly enough, then wandered to sit at Wolffe's feet. It's tail thumped in the snow as it looked up at him expectantly.
He sighed, for what felt like the millionth time today, and packed all his lunch things away again. He tugged his scarf back up around his neck and tightened the straps on his backpack once more. Plo had knitted it for him, because of course the most wholesome man in the galaxy could knit. He even had a matching hat and sweater.
"Come on then," he said, standing. His knees cracked as he did so. "Let's go."
He started walking again, the now familiar sound of little paws on snow and rock following him.
"But just so we're clear," he called back, "if your mom comes at me and tries to rip my throat out for kidnapping you or something? I'm shooting her. I don't care how cute you are."
The puppy barked happily and darted up the trail ahead of him.
"Asshole," Wolffe muttered, and followed behind.
Wolffe frowned up at the rapidly gathering storm clouds. From what he'd been able to discern on his com, before the approaching storm had cut out the signal, the bad weather would be intense but wouldn't last until the morning. Still, it was going to be one hell of a night.
After hurriedly heating himself a campfire dinner on the little stove he'd brought, crouched in the lee of the boulder to protect from the wind, he'd filled up his insulated cantina with hot water and added flavouring. Now it was just a matter of erecting his tent. The puppy sat, shivering between a shrub and the boulder, and watched with wide eyes as he put it up.
He checked, double checked, then triple checked each of the moorings, every peg driven as far into the frozen ground as he could get it. He put his tent up as close to the boulder as he could get it. Providing the wind didn't change it should protect him from the worst of the storm. Wolffe didn't think he would get that lucky.
He never had been before.
The storm was getting worse, and quickly. It was like an approaching wall of darkness. Wolffe lifted his lantern and glanced around, but visibility was getting worse by the second. He couldn't see more than twenty metres in any direction, the snow whipping up and the thick clouds blocking what little daylight remained.
He looked back down at the pup, still shivering between the boulder and the shrub.
If it's mother was coming for it, even she wouldn't be able to find it in this mess.
"Come on then," Wolffe said, holding open the tent flap. "Get in, or you'll freeze to death."
The pup just blinked at him uncomprehendingly.
Wolffe whistled, jiggling the tent flap again.
The puppy shrank further back against the stone.
"What?" Wolffe growled, "you follow me around all day but now, you don't like me? Really?"
He tried again, but the puppy still didn't move. Wolffe groaned.
"Can't believe you're making me do this, fucking asshole," he seethed, stomping across the small space to grab the thing by the scruff of it's neck. The puppy started yowling and squirming as soon as he touched it, scratching at his arms with its claws. Luckily though, Wolffe was wearing a thick coat and gloves, so he barely felt it.
He tossed the puppy into the tent carelessly, a particularly strong gust of wind nearly knocking him on his ass. He zipped up the tent hurriedly, then ripped his scarf away from his face so that he could breathe, sucking in great lungfuls of air. Even with all the earnings, he'd been surprised by how bad it had gotten, how quickly.
He pulled off his hat too and scratched his head, his hair damp with sweat. Then he picked up the lantern again and turned, crouched on his heels, searching for the pup.
The damn thing was chewing on its back paw, curled up on Wolffe's pillow without a care in the world, like it hadn't been trying to savage his arm just seconds beforehand. It stopped chewing on its paw and looking up at Wolffe, then barked expectantly.
"You really are like Fox," Wolffe muttered to himself. "Asshole."
Wolffe woke later that night to a rattling tent and howling winds. He shuffled up onto his elbows and knocked on the little lamp, glancing around the tent while scrubbing his face tiredly.
The puppy was still curled up by his feet where he'd stuck it last night, only now it was curled into an even tighter ball. It was shaking all over, although whether from the cold or the noise of the storm, Wolffe couldn't tell. As he watched it looked up, woken by the light, and blinked at him sadly.
It's tail thumped uncertainly, it's head cocked to one side, and Wolffe sighed.
"Alright asshole," he said, patting his chest. "Come here."
Before he'd even finished speaking, the puppy was flying towards him. He lay back down and lifted the sleeping bag so that it could clamber inside, it's tail wagging enthusiastically. Wolffe did feel a bit bad, when he felt how cold it's fur and little paws were, but mostly he just fought back a shiver as it settled happily on his chest.
Suddenly he recalled Fox doing the same thing one night, when the heating in their barracks was broken and Fox's blanket had been confiscated for something he'd done. He smiled bitterly.
"You're just like him. It’s creepy," Wolffe told the puppy as it squirmed further under his chin. "He was even a cuddle bug too."
Satisfied that it was as wedged under his chin as it could get, the puppy settled against his neck, poking it's cold wet nose right against Wolffe's jugular. He scratched behind its ears absently as he stared up at the shaking walls of the tent.
"I named him, you know," Wolffe murmured. The puppy yipped quietly, it's little tail thumping beneath the sleeping bag. "One of the nicer trainers was telling us stories about fox spirits, and their similarities in different cultures mythologies." He paused to let the bittersweet memory wash over him, then took a deep breath and continued.
"They were always so much smarter than everyone else, and all they did with it was all these pranks," Wolffe remembered. "They were never really good or bad, they were just… tricksters, you know? They liked to laugh."
He paused again as the pup resettled itself, somehow even further up his chest than before.
"I just thought… that's him. That's ten-ten."
The puppy yipped quietly and Wolffe chuckled.
"Then he said, since I was bigger and dumber than him, I should be called Wolf." The puppy barked angrily and Wolffe chuckled, patting it's back gently. "I know, I know… but… after the whole fox thing, she started talking about different animals and wolves came up. About how often they were guardians, or protectors… guides sometimes too."
He glanced down at the lump beneath the blankets.
"Well, you'd know about that better than me I guess," he muttered, scratching behind its ears so that it's tail thumped on his chest again. "Loth wolves are like… the most famous guardian spirits out there."
The puppy made a satisfied 'mrrp' noise and settled down again. Wolffe stared back up at the ceiling of the tent.
"I think he just meant that I looked after him," Wolffe explained, "but he didn't want to say it." He grinned as he was hit by another memory. "I had to look after him a lot, since he was always pranking the Alphas or the Nulls…" Wolffe laughed. "The amount of times I had to hide him after he did something to Maze or Fordo's equipment? He didn't do stuff to the Nulls often, those guys were scary, but…" he laughed again. "Some days I think Seventeen just wanted to drop him down the trash chute and be done with him. He was too cute though, and he never hurt anyone. Or he never meant to anyway…"
Wolffe burst into laughter again as he was hit by a memory. Seventeen holding up a tiny Fox by the scruff of his reds, both of them glaring at each other, and both of them absolutely covered head to toe in paint. Fox's unrepentant pout, his little fists curled up into balls. Seventeen, trying to look angry but failing, biting back laughter at Fox and his failed timer on the paint bomb.
Later, Seventeen had shown him where he'd gone wrong. They’d sat next to one another at the table, Seventeen’s tree trunk arm resting around Fox’s narrow shoulders as they poured over the circuits, on the strict instructions that it should be placed in Ordo’s bunk and Ordo’s bunk alone.
“Fuck, I miss him.”
The puppy shuffled a little so that it could lick the tears that were suddenly trickling down his cheeks.
"I really really miss him," Wolffe gasped. His chest constricted painfully. The puppy continued to lick at his face, and paw at his chest slightly. He scratched the back of its neck with shaking fingers.
Six months after Fox's death, this was only the second time he'd cried. He'd cried when he'd gotten the news, collapsed in Plo's arms. He'd been hours away from seeing his little brother again, and then he'd been called by a quiet Thire, and all his hopes had been dashed.
He hadn't cried when he'd seen the body.
He hadn't cried during the funeral.
He hadn't cried in the months in-between.
He was crying now though.
Here, in this tent, on this beautiful planet, clutching this dumb mutt.
He was supposed to be here with Fox. He was supposed to be experiencing all this, with Fox.
Fox should be here, but he wasn't.
He wasn't.
Fox should be snoring next to him.
Fox should be cuddling the puppy, pressing his lips to the little thing's shivering head and grinning to himself.
He should've been there, looking out across the pristine wilderness with wonder, with an amazement that Wolffe couldn't feel anymore, because Fox wasn't here.
He would never be here again.
Fox wasn't here and Wolffe was alone.
When Wolffe next woke up the puppy was licking his face, it's tail wagging frantically.
"Alright alright," he grumbled, pushing the thing away. It started to run in tight circles around the tent, jumping into his chest and then over his legs and then back onto his chest.
"Someone's full of beans this morning," he grumbled, wiping away the sleep that was crusted around his eyes.
The pup tripped up and bounced off the wall of the tent, landing on its back in a pile of Wolffe's things. It blinked in confusion for a moment, stunned by it's high-speed crash. Then it wriggled itself upright and jumped back up onto Wolffe's chest, licking his face and yipping. It's entire body was trembling with excitement from head to toe, the crash already forgotten.
"Fuckin- gimme a minute," he grumbled. Pushing it back again.
After he got the both of them fed, a strip of jerky for both of them and some protein cubes for Wolffe, he unzipped the tents inner and outer door to take stock of the landscape.
"For fucks sake," Wolffe groaned.
He couldn't see a damn thing. The snow was deep, so deep it had completely buried the tent. The puppy yapped at him, trying to wriggle past, but he managed to push it back and take stock of their situation. Some of the snow fell inwards and landed on the end of his sleeping bag, and the pup sniffed it curiously.
Wolffe sighed.
There was the smallest sliver of light, just at the top. Wolffe poked his hand through, and quickly the snow began to crumble away. It turned out the wind had just blown the snow up against the door of the tent. It wasn't that much deeper than the previous day.
Once he'd cleared enough of a gap he gave up trying to stop the puppy clambering past him. It only managed a few steps before sinking below the thin frozen crust. After a few seconds, it's head popped back up. It looked at Wolffe over the snow, then barked at him expectantly.
Wolffe sighed and dragged his palm across his face.
"Alright asshole, alright."
Nearly one year later...
Cody was waiting for Wolffe when he stepped onto the platform at the Temple magna-rail station, overpriced sugary drink in hand. Wolffe shifted his bag further up on his shoulders and smiled at the sight of a brother he hadn't seen in person for nearly three years. He looked good out of uniform, relaxed and comfortable.
Cody blinked at him as he made his way through the bustling crowds towards his little brother.
"Watcha got there?" he said slowly.
"A smoothie," Wolffe replied casually, lifting it slightly. "Got it at the spaceport after I landed. Tastes like shit."
Wolffe grinned wider as Cody scowled. Less than thirty seconds and Cody was already sick of him, that had to be a personal record.
"Not that, asshole," Cody groused. He pointed to just behind Wolffe's shoulder. "That."
"Oh." A familiar wet nose snuffled at his ear. "That's just Fox-Two. She's cool."
"That's a fucking Loth wolf, Wolffe," Cody said.
"No shit, shit head," he replied, grabbing Cody and pulling him in for a brotherly noogie. Fox-Two snuffled curiously at his face as he struggled in Wolffe's grip.
"Ach!" Cody shouted as Fox-Two licked a big stripe across his face.
Wolffe laughed and let him go. Cody shoved him away and stumbled back as he came face first with an inquisitive Loth wolf that towered over him.
"Hey... buddy," he said. Fox-Two sniffed his face again, gave him one last lick, then wandered off to explore the station. Cody watched her go with wide eyes, then sidled up to Wolffe.
"So… Fox-Two?" he said, wiping his face on the bottom of his shirt. "That's… an interesting name."
"Personality wise they're very similar," Wolffe said blandly. They both watched as Fox-Two snuffled around the station, accidentally scattering a group of Jawa's with her tail.
"Right…" Cody said slowly. Fox-Two turned around again to investigate the shouting Jawa's she'd just knocked over. Wolffe smirked. "Anyway… it's good to have you back Ori'vod."
Wolffe slung an arm around his shoulders and grinned.
"It's good to be back," he said. A Jawa hit Fox-Two on the nose, and she barked, her voice echoing through the station. The Jawa fell back in surprise and scrambled backwards as she followed him, her tail wagging and knocking over a stand of crappy souvenirs.
"Happy Life Day Cody," he said, knocking his forehead against his brother's temple, a tad more gently this time.
"Happy Life Day Wolffe."