Hi everyone—welcome to my first publication on here since 2009! These three give me so many found family feels—and since Mother's Day was a few days ago…
This is only a one-shot—but may also tie in to an upcoming multi-chapter fic I've just started working on. Hopefully I'll be able to start posting it….soonish?
Cara lay on the floor of the Razor Crest's refresher, eyes closed, as she tried to stop the spinning sensation inside her head.
For three straight days, she'd been violently ill. Six hours into the ordeal, Din had landed the ship in a remote forest on Tarro, hoping the decreased sound and movement would help to ease her body's torment.
She'd had no such luck.
She took several deep breaths, and hoped the latest wave of nausea was finally breaking. She didn't remember ever being this sick before-and the sense of unknown triggered her anxiety in a way she hadn't experienced in years. Falling back on a trick she'd learned in the dark days after Alderaan's destruction, she fought to focus on what she could sense around her.
The cool metal floor beneath her black tank and brief shorts.
The frigid cold pack behind her neck.
The soft blanket that alternately kept her from shivering and made her nausea increase to the point that she was heaving over the vac tube for what felt like the millionth time, though her stomach was long empty.
The residual taste of mint rinse on her tongue.
The sound of birds singing on the other side of the door, where Din must've opened the hatch to let fresh air in.
Thankfully, the exercise seemed to help her mind and body relax a little, and slowly but surely, Cara felt herself fade toward sleep. However, another sound, a high-pitched whine, pulled her back toward consciousness.
"She's still sick, little one—you can see her when she's feeling better," Din's voice spoke softly. The response was an indignant squeal, followed by the long wail of an unhappy toddler.
"Seeeeeeee!" he cried, breaking Cara's heart. She'd sequestered herself from them for the duration of her illness, wiping down the 'fresher every time she left to collapse on the bed in the next compartment, in hopes that neither of them would get sick. But the tears in that little voice were almost enough to bring forth her own.
"It's fine—just let him see me," she called to Din through the door, her voice weak. "Since neither of you are sick at this point, I think you might be okay." She opened one eye, reaching her right leg up to press the door release with her big toe. As soon as it opened, the crying stopped, and the little guy waddled to her side.
"Hi sweetie, have you missed me?" she asked, using the corner of the blanket to dry his damp eyes.
"See!" he exclaimed, looking back at Din, now sitting on the floor near her feet, with a triumphant grin.
"Yes, I see her, too," Din replied, giving Cara a soft smile as he tucked the blanket around her ice-cold feet. It had been a year since he'd first revealed his face to her, and she knew she would never get tired of looking at it.
"I've missed my boys," she said with a sigh. "I'd much rather be out there with you than in here, with only misery to keep me company." She tried to give him her signature smirk, but knew it lacked its usual spark.
Din's brow furrowed, and he reached out to take her right hand. "Are you feeling any better?"
"For the moment. The room finally stopped spinning, so I'm hoping I can sleep a bit in case another round hits." She closed her eyes again—they were so heavy, and the reprieve from persistent nausea was such a relief. She almost dozed off again-until she felt a tug on the blanket from her left side.
"What are you doing?" Din asked, chuckling. "You've been playing in the sun all morning—I know you're not cold."
"See," the baby insisted. He lifted the edge of the blanket, reaching underneath until he had found Cara's left hand. She let her arm go slack, and he pulled on her wrist until it was exposed. "See."
Cara smiled as his little three-fingered hand wrapped around her ring finger. He'd been fascinated with the tattoo there since she'd gotten it—three intertwined bands surrounding a faceted sapphire oval so well-done it almost looked real. There was still so much they didn't know about the little guy, but sometimes she almost thought he understood the ring's significance—that it meant they were an official family.
A clan of three.
On the heel of that thought came a sensation of warmth, starting at her fingertip and slowly spreading up her arm to her shoulder, then to her chest, and down to her abdomen. "No, you don't have to heal me—my body needs…." She trailed off once she realized this sensation was different than when he'd tried to heal in the past. Instead of easing the hint of queasiness she still felt, it was like he was sifting through it—finding its source. A source of….life?"
Cara's eyes snapped open, breath entering her lungs in one quick gasp. "Din," she whispered, unable to keep the tremble from her voice.
"I saw," he said, his own voice quiet and strained as he swallowed. "I saw…her."
Cara loosened her hands from theirs, then slowly sat up, never letting her own teary eyes leave her husband's. She reached out to embrace him, laying her head on his shoulder. Not one to miss out on snuggles, their son climbed up, giving a trill of pleasure as he burrowed under her chin. "See Mama," he said with a happy sigh.
Din tilted his head down, placing a soft kiss on top of both their heads, and Cara's heart felt like it might explode. She had known this man for nearly two years, and loved him for most of that time. She'd proudly sworn the Creed a year after they'd met, and married him the following morning. In their vows, among other things, they'd promised to raise warriors.
Now, it seemed, they would raise two.
Hope you enjoyed—to borrow an idea from two of my favorite fic authors, reviews are warm blankets on cold feet