36. Maybe (1/1)

rila: look at all these feels~ i just realized that i haven't touched on the situation on kiros involving the zygerians and togruta, or the onderon arc. feels. there are feels in there that need to be touched. yes. sachariah, i'll have that one-shot out as soon as i finish outlining and stuff and this is okay, right. also they say that you're not somebody/until somebody really loves you/i'm waiting to make somebody/somebody soon. there will be more on this i swearz

disclaimer: i should be sleepinggg but i'm noootttt

word count: 756

chapter description: it was a far off dream - a foolish, naive dream - but he still wanted it. and maybe, just maybe -

in the beginning, there hadn't been much beyond following orders and commanding his men. but over time, he began to form bonds with said men, as well as the togruta jedi that he called 'commander' - and 'kid', but she didn't like that much, insisting that he call her 'ahsoka' - and then there was more than just battle and orders, training and cleaning weapons.

he had never thought his life to be something pointless, nor had he ever thought of himself expendable - as a clone there was certain truth to that statement, but he wasn't one to throw his life away needlessly - though he risked his life to save those around him and those that he did not interact with - the civilians of the republic.

he had seen them before, milling about coruscant and all the other planets - but he had never found reason or time to interact with them in any way. until cut, that was. cut was a clone, like him, but yet not - cut was no longer a part of the life that rex knew, no longer a soldier.

cut was a husband, a father - a civilian. and though it had been his duty, his responsibility to turn in a 'deserter', he had not done it - could not

ing himself to do it. he could not destroy what cut had built. in the months that followed, he found himself entertaining the thought of eventually finding himself in a situation like cut's - somewhere else, when the war ended, when peace was finally found - with a house, a wife, and children.

it would be the family that he had never had - all he had was his

others, and they all shared the same face as him. different personalities, yes - and while he cared for them deeply, it was not the same. he found himself wanting that sort of future, a future beyond the war - a future that he might not even end up knowing. batltes were constant, and so was the constant struggle between life and death - part of him would be proud to die in battle, to die for what he believed, but another part, a deeper, quieter part, still wanted to live past the war so that he could have that future.

he had even gone as far as to entertain the thought of who would be involved in that future, a certain someone with lekku and montrals, with

ight blue eyes and a smile that, at times, seemed to outshine any sort of sun - but that line of thinking always became bittersweet. it was against code to form any sort of relationship, romantic or otherwise, she had told him, her gaze and expression that of quiet, bittersweet sorrow.

it was a look that she gave him more and more often, as the war dragged on - the look she had given him when he had called her name, turning her attention away from where it had been on her people - he had seen what she was staring at, and could imagine what sort of things ran through her head - because they had run through his head as well.

and though that future became less and less likely with each battle lost, each reminder that they could not let their relationship be known - he still kept it. kept it locked away, in the deepest part of his mind - ahsoka did not know about cut, could not know about cut - and so he kept it, that reason for hoping, that foolish, foolish belief - locked away.

he did not get rid of it, because there was no reason to - it was part of the reason that he kept going, keeping ahold of that chance that maybe, just maybe, someday - with her, with ahsoka - he could have that future.

someday. maybe.