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It's a lucky shot, is the thing. A damned lucky shot from a storm trooper of all things. Gustave catches Verso as he stumbles, cursing, and drags him the last few blocks and into their hidden shelter.
"The data?" Verso asks, gasping, bent double and clutching at his side.
"Right here." Gustave pats his jacket pocket, where the little chip sits safely in its case, ready to deliver to the rebellion.
"Good." Verso sounds... wrong. His voice is strained. "When Maelle gets back..." he stumbles and falls to the floor with a clatter of armor.
"Verso!" Gustave goes to him, reaching for his mandalorian before he's even hit the ground.
"When Maelle gets back," Verso gasps, grabbing Gustave's arm. "You take her and go."
"What about you?" Gustave holds the hand gripping his arm, and hears a weak laugh. "You're still coming with us, aren't you?"
"I'll... be fine."
It's a lie. Gustave has learned to tell the difference by now. He knows how Verso's voice sounds when he lies, even pained and weak like this. He frowns, scanning his friend for injury. His beskar should have protected him, but he doesn't have a full suit of it yet. Just plates covering his most vulnerable parts attached to thick leather.
Verso's right hand is still pressed to his side. Around his fingers, Gustave can see charring on the material.
"Verso..." he reaches down. Verso's left hand tightens on his wrist, holding it back, but Gustave is stronger. He takes Verso’s hand in his, gently pulling it away from the wound. What he sees...
"Putain."
Verso laughs weakly. "Yeah."
His side is torn open from an actual kriffing bullet. It's bleeding sluggishly, the shell still embedded in his flesh. But what's worse is the sickly green tinge to the skin around the wound. Poison.
"Okay. Okay, we can take care of this." Gustave forces himself to take a deep breath. "I have..." kriff. His pack is back in the ship. Where they left it because this was supposed to be a fast in-and-out mission. They'd left most of their usual supplies behind for the sake of speed. "When Maelle gets back we can get you back to the ship. You just have to hold on until-"
Verso's hand tightens on his wrist. "Gustave." There's something strange in his voice. It makes Gustave stop and look at him. Not for the first time, he wishes he could see his face under that silver helmet.
"It's okay."
"The hell it is!" Gustave shouts. They both freeze, listening, hoping his outburst wasn't heard. After a few seconds, when no shouting occurs outside and no one tries to break down the door, he turns back to Verso.
"The hell it is," he hisses. "You- you're..." he can't bring himself to say it, even though he can see the poison starting to spread, turning Verso's veins black with it. They've both seen this particular poison before, it's a new favorite with pirates on the outer worlds. It works fast. Too fast.
"Dying. I'll be gone before Maelle gets back," Verso says, his grip weak on Gustave's arm.
Gustave shakes his head, denying the evidence of his own eyes. There's still hours before Maelle will get back to the safe-house. Verso has maybe half an hour at best.
"No. Absolutely not. I will not allow-"
"Gustave." Verso's voice is as weak as his grip. "It's okay."
"No." Gustave can feel the sob caught in his chest. "No, no, Verso..."
"You and Maelle will get out," Verso continues, between pained gasps as the poison does it's terrible work. "You'll get our data to the rebellion. Everything they need to take down this base is in there. You'll succeed. I know you will."
"No." Gustave shakes his head, tears falling from his eyes to splash down onto Verso's armor. "No, not without you."
"Hey. Hey. It's okay. It is. I knew I could die when I joined you. Any one of us could. It's the risk we take."
"No." It feels like all he can do is repeat that one word. That one syllable of denial. Verso can't die. He's been Gustave's one constant in all this madness. The steady presence at his side. The wall of armor at his back. His partner.
His love.
Even if that love was never voiced, never returned. Even if Gustave had never once seen his face.
"Hey. Listen. Gustave. You'll need to keep going. Maelle needs you. The rebellion needs you. You can't-" he breaks off, hissing in pain as his wound throbs. "You can't let this slow you down."
"I don't want to do this without you!" Gustave sobs, not knowing if he means the mission, the rebellion, or life in general. "Verso, I can't-"
"You can. And you will." He breaks off, panting, his body starting to shake as the poison slowly circulates through his blood.
Verso shudders in his arms, breath coming quick and sharp. Gustave can almost feel the life leaving him.
"Need to - to tell you," Verso pants. "Just... last chance. To say it." He gasps, and his hand falls from Gustave's arm. Weakly he struggles, hands pushing ineffectually at his helmet.
"Verso?" Gustave holds him in his lap, clutching him as tight as he dares.
"Need... off." He pushes again at the base of his helmet. "Want you to see."
"Verso, that's-" he knows what it means to remove his helmet in Verso's religion. What it means for a mandalorian to show another being his face.
"I'm - dying," Verso says with a weak laugh. "Not gonna need honor now. Want to show you. I - hmrg - I know you wondered."
"No! No, you aren't dying. If you can just hold on until Maelle gets here-" it's a long shot. Maelle may be a Jedi, but she's only in training, and force-healing is a rare thing. But it's his only hope. If Verso can last the hours until they expect her, then maybe...
"Gustave. Please."
He can't deny him. Not when he asks like that.
"Okay. Okay. Here." He reaches down and his fingers find the rim of the helmet, sliding in between the cold metal and Verso's burning-hot skin.
Slowly, giving Verso every chance to stop him, he lifts the helmet from his head. It clinks softly against the ground when he sets it aside. And he looks down into Verso's face for the very first time.
"Hi." Verso gives him a weak smile. Soft black hair, shot through with white, fans out over Gustave's knee. He's pale, both naturally and from the poison, and he looks up at Gustave with silver eyes so clear they are almost translucent. Burn scars trail down his right cheek and neck, vanishing under the neck of his leathers. Another dark scar slashes through one eye. And he is the most beautiful man Gustave has ever seen.
"What's with that face?" Verso asks, his fingers gently brushing against Gustave’s cheek. "I must-" he winces, hissing. "Must have bad helmet hair."
"No, Verso, you... you're beautiful." He can't help the wonder in his voice, any more than he can help himself from carefully stroking along his face and letting his hand drift into that soft hair.
Verso smiles at that, letting his own hand rest on Gustave's cheek. "So are you. Good to see you, without the helmet."
"I... Verso, I-" he swallows down a sob.
"I know," Verso says quietly. "I know. Gustave, I..." he closes his eyes, shaking from pain and sickness. His hand starts to fall away and Gustave catches it, holding it to his face.
"Need to say it, just once..." Verso's voice is fading, those bright silver eyes sliding shut.
"Verso..." his heart feels like it's breaking. Like there's a black hole where his heart should be, sucking at his soul and threatening to tear him apart.
Verso's eyes flutter open, focusing on his face for only a moment, before falling shut again.
"Love you..." he whispers quietly. "Always have. Always will."
Gustave sobs. "No, Verso, you-"
Verso's hand shakes under his palm. "'S alright. Know you don't... doesn't matter. Just... needed you to know."
"Verso, you... you beautiful kriffing idiot," Gustave sobs. "You think... you think I don't..." he takes a steadying breath, the pain in his chest so deep he's afraid he might just break apart.
"I love you, you brave, stupid, gorgeous bastard. I love you."
"Oh." Verso smiles. "'M glad... I... you… Gustave..." he sighs, a long slow exhale. His eyes slide shut a final time. And what little strength remained leaves him, his head falling back against Gustave’s knee. Slowly his shivering eases, the rise and fall of his chest slowing down.
"No. No, no, no, no." Gustave shakes his shoulders. "No, Verso, wake up. You have to hang on. You have to."
Verso makes no response. No indication he even heard.
"I love you."
Gustave’s tears splash against the glittering metal of Verso's armor. He rests a hand on his chest, feeling the slow rise and fall.
Rise ... and fall ...
Rise... ... and fall ... ...
Rise ... ... ... and fall ... ... ...
Fall ... ... ...
His chest doesn't rise again.
"No." A soft sob, a weak moan. Gustave hunches over him, cradling the limp body to his chest. "No. Verso, wake up."
He doesn't know how long he sits there, rocking the body in his arms. His eyes are still wet when he hears footsteps approaching.
He scrambles for Verso's helmet, knowing how important it is no one see his face. When he wakes he'll want to know nobody else saw him.
The door slams open to reveal Maelle, hours early, hair disheveled, her clothes torn, lightsaber in hand.
"Verso!" She gasps, out of breath. "I felt... in the Force..."
Gustave looks up at her from the floor, and one look at his face tells her all she needs to know. The sound she utters is as broken and hopeless as he feels.
"No." She falls to her knees beside him, throwing herself over Verso's still form. "No, you idiot. You're supposed to stay. You're supposed to take care of me. I'm your foundling, aren't I?"
"The old care for the young," Gustave whispers, remembering the words Verso had often spoken when Maelle demanded to know why they stuck around. "This is the way."
"This is the way," Maelle echoes.
"But this isn't the way," she says after a moment, sitting up, a determined look on her face. "I won't accept this."
"Maelle..." Gustave holds Verso close, watching their foundling, the girl who is both sister and daughter to them both. "You can't..." his voice breaks. "You can't bring someone back from death."
Maelle meets his gaze, blue eyes determined. "Watch me," she says. "I'm not letting him die."
"He was poisoned," Gustave tells her. "It... you can't just force heal him and expect him to wake up."
"You told me all those stories about Jedi when I was little," she reminds him. "All the impossible things they could do. Well. Now they say I'm a Jedi." Her expression turns a little feral. "Let's see if they're right."
He should protest. He should insist they leave. That they take Verso's body back to his clan. That they go on with the mission.
But.
He wants to believe. Both in the legend of the Jedi, and in the possibility that Verso could be brought back to him.
He nods, and helps her lay Verso out on the ground between them.
"Poison first," she says quietly, looking at the terrible wound. "Get the bullet out?"
Gustave takes out his set of small knives. Carefully, he cuts the small ball of iron from Verso's body, touching it only with his prosthetic fingers. He can't risk getting poisoned himself. When done, he looks up and nods to Maelle.
"Ok." She takes a deep breath and holds her hand out over Verso's side.
At first, nothing happens. Gustave shifts in place. The air around him feels heavy. Alive. He can feel something gathering. Maelle’s lips move, her voice too soft to hear. He leans forward, trying to read her.
"I'm one with the Force and the Force is with me," she says, again and again. A quote he recognizes as part of the old Guardian's Mantra. He closes his eyes, remembering the rest of the Mantra.
"The Force is with me," he joins in when she begins again, adding his voice to the mantra. "And I am one with the Force. And I fear nothing, because all is as the Force wills it."
Her words grow stronger, more certain. That feeling of something gathering grows. And then he feels something change. Something wet touches his leg, and he looks down. Verso's wound had long since stopped bleeding, but now something black and viscous trickles out of it to pool on the stone floor. More and more drips from the wound until a small puddle the size of his palm has collected on the ground. The blackness that had stained Verso's veins as the poison spread is gone, his body clear of the taint.
Maelle sags, looking exhausted. She falls silent for a moment, but when he reaches for her she shakes her head. A moment later she joins in the chant again.
"The Force is with me and I am one with the Force."
She holds her hand out over Verso again, and the air shivers around them. Slowly, her words become more strained. Like she's struggling against a heavy weight. Before his eyes, the horrible gash in Verso's side begins to knit together. Soon, the only evidence it was there is the ruined leather.
"Shock him," Maelle demands. Gustave stops chanting to stare at her.
"What?"
"Shock him," she says again. "We need to restart his heart."
Gustave takes a deep breath, and rests his prosthetic hand on Verso's body, just above his chest-plate.
"The Force is with me," he says, building up a charge in his arm. "And I am one with the Force."
His arm discharges into Verso's chest, the mandalorian's body jerking as the current flows through him.
"And I fear nothing." He builds another charge.
"Because all is as the Force wills it."
At Maelle’s nod he shocks Verso again.
Again. And again. And again. Hope starts to fade that this could work. That they might be able to bring Verso back.
"The Force is with me," Maelle chants with him, her voice growing stronger, louder, heedless of the possibility of being heard by the enemy. "And I am one with the Force."
Gustave begins to charge his arm once more.
“The Force is with me, and I am one with the Force.”
He can feel it now, the Force flowing through him, moving in and around him. Around Maelle. Around Verso. He feels it as his arm starts to heat, the delicate circuitry sparking as the charge builds. The Force is in him. Working through him. Please, he prays to it, please, bring him back.
“And I fear nothing.”
He slides his hand under Verso’s beskar chest-plate, resting his metal fingers just above his heart. He thinks of Verso’s laugh, that rare bright sound. Of his hands on the piano, coaxing the most beautiful melody from the keys. Of his determination, his dedication to his clan and to the rebellion. His gentle affection for Maelle. His burning hatred of those who would cause her harm. His steady presence at Gustave’s side, grounding him, inspiring him, driving him to be the very best.
Maelle’s hand hovers above his, the Force moving between them in a current of power.
He thinks of the last moments with Verso. His clear silver eyes. His hand on his cheek, warm and real.
“Because all is as the Force wills it.”
He triggers the shocks, Verso’s body twitching and jerking as his overcharge flares. He smells burning metal, the wires in his arm melting from the strength of the current. It sparks around his fingertips, the metal turning black and charred. For one overwhelming moment he feels the Force surge around all three of them.
And then it’s gone, leaving only silence in its wake.
Maelle collapses on top of Verso, spent. For one terrible moment he worries that she’s not breathing, until he sees her shoulders shake and she looks up at him with tear-filled eyes.
“It… it didn’t work,” she sobs. “Verso…”
Then the body on the floor takes a sudden, deep breath.
Gustave stares, mouth falling open in shock as Verso’s hands rise to his head, to the helmet now obscuring his handsome face. Ragged breathing comes from beneath the armor, and he slowly turns his head to look between Gustave and Maelle.
“Gustave?” His voice is rough, shaking. “I… what happened? I thought…”
“You died,” Gustave says through his tears, falling once again but now from joy, not sorrow. “You died, and Maelle brought you back.”
Maelle throws herself on top of him, hugging him tightly. “Gustave too. The Force, it responded to him. To how badly he wanted you back.”
“You did?” he sounds surprised, turning his head to focus on Gustave’s face.
“Of course I did. You can’t just… just tell me you love me and then die. How would I have gone on, knowing what we could have been if only I’d been brave enough to tell you sooner?”
“Gustave… I…” Verso reaches up, gently wiping the tears from Gustave’s cheeks. “I could have been braver too. I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you.”
“Maelle,” Gustave says quietly, not taking his eyes off of Verso. “Would you please turn around?”
She frowns at him. “What? Why?”
“Because I am going to kiss him now, and I can’t take off his helmet if you’re looking.”
“Gross.” She makes a face, but obediently climbs off Verso and sits back on her heels. “I’m going to go guard the door. Make sure nobody heard us in here.” She levels Verso with a look. “Don’t die again.”
Verso laughs, sitting up with Gustave’s help. “I’ll do my best.”
Maelle smiles. “Good.” She hugs Verso once again, and this time he hugs her back just as tightly. Then she slips out the door.
“Think she’ll peek anyway?” Verso asks, nodding toward the window.
Gustave shakes his head. “She’ll leave us alone. For a little while at least. You scared us both there. I thought…” his breath catches in his throat, the grief and pain coming back to roll over him in a tidal wave.
“Hey,” Verso reaches out and pulls him close, holding him in a warm embrace. “It’s okay. I’m here now. I’m here. I’m alright.”
“You weren’t!” Gustave cries, clutching him tightly and burying his face in his chest. “You died. You died, and I had to tell Maelle, and I would have had to tell Lune and Sciel, and your clan, and… and you were dead, Verso. I was going to have to live the rest of my life without you.”
“Hey, hey, shhh,” Verso rocks him gently, holding him tight. “Shh. I’m here now. I’m here, you brought me back.”
They stay that way for some time, until Gustave has cried himself out. One of Verso’s arms is wrapped securely around his back, keeping him close. His other hand is in Gustave’s hair, fingers rubbing soothing circles into his scalp. As Gustave slowly comes back to himself he realizes that Verso is humming, a quiet lullaby he’s sung to Maelle a thousand times. The familiarity of it makes Gustave smile, and he turns his head to look up at Verso, the familiar planes of his helmet a comforting sight.
“Better?” Verso asks, when he notices Gustave watching him.
“Yeah.” Gustave nods. “Are you…?” He’s not sure what he wants to ask. Is he okay? Is he still injured somewhere? Is he alright with having died and been brought back?
“Physically, I’m fine.” His voice holds that tone that Gustave has come to know as the very rare times that he’s being completely and totally honest. “Mentally… can’t say it’s easy realizing I was dead and came back. But I’ll get there.”
“Yeah.” Gustave smiles at him. “You will.”
Reluctantly he sits back, releasing the too-tight grip he’d held on Verso. His fingers ache from how tightly they had been clutching him.
“Verso, I-“ he starts, at the same time Verso says “Gustave, about what I said-“ They both stop, look at each other, and laugh.
“You first,” Verso says, looking at him expectantly.
“I, um.” Gustave blushes, suddenly aware of what he was about to ask. “Your helmet. I…” He reaches as if to touch it, then lets his hands fall back into his lap.
“I showed you my face,” Verso says quietly, his own hands coming up to touch the base of his helmet. “I thought I was going to die, so it didn’t matter anymore. And I wanted you to see me. At least once, I wanted you to see the real me. But…” he trails off, hands dropping to rest on his knees.
“It’s alright,” Gustave tells him. “I get it. You’re not supposed to remove it in front of people. I won’t ask if it will make you uncomfortable.”
Verso sighs, looking down. “I… the Way is clear. Once the oath is taken, a Mandalorian never removes his helmet in front of others. To do so is to become apostate. And be exiled from the clan.”
Disappointment sinks in Gustave’s gut, but he shoves it down. Even if he never sees Verso’s face again, it is enough, more than enough, to have him here. To know that what he feels for Verso, Verso feels the same for him.
“I don’t mind,” he tells him. And he doesn’t, truly. It is a shame he won’t be able to kiss him like he wants, or ever see those beautiful eyes again. But that’s a sacrifice he’ll happily make, if it keeps Verso in his life. “I don’t need to see your face to be with you. I loved you long before I ever saw it, and I’ll still love you if I never see it again.”
“Gustave…” Verso hesitates, seeming uncertain. “I…”
Gustave goes to him, leaning against him to rest a hand on his chest, over his heart, where he’d shocked him back to life. “You’re here. You’re alive,” he says. “That’s all I need. Just… stay with me. The rest we can figure out.”
Verso leans against him, humming thoughtfully. At last, he speaks. “There’s a tale from old Mandalore,” he says haltingly, “I always thought it was a fairy story. About two people who were bound together through the Force. So tightly that their fates were intertwined. And when one died, the other used the Force to bring them back.”
Gustave looks up at him, noting the tilt of his head that means he’s watching Gustave.
"One might think," Verso says slowly. "That if two people are bound so tightly through the Force... do they truly count as two? Or could they, perhaps, count as one and the same?"
"Oh," Gustave breathes, a small smile curving his lips. "You won’t be showing your face to another, if you and I are the same through the Force. A loophole. I like it."
Hesitating, hands shaking, Gustave reaches out and starts to lift Verso's helmet. Verso's hands come up to cover his and he pauses, but Verso presses up, helping him to lift it.
As the helmet slides up, Gustave finds himself holding his breath as that strong jaw is slowly revealed. His full lips. The little dimple at the tip of his nose. And then his eyes, closed, as he breathes deeply of the clear air.
At last his hair falls free around his shoulders, and Gustave is left with the helmet in his hands.
Slowly, oh so slowly, Verso opens his eyes. Brilliant silver, bright and wide and shimmering with tears.
Gustave sets the helmet down to reach for him. This time, he takes his time tracing the lines of his face. Gentle fingers caress his jaw, his cheeks, before sliding back into his hair, framing his face and holding him still.
Verso shifts slightly and then his hands are on Gustave, bare of his armored gloves. Soft and warm, his fingers caress Gustave's face, stroking his beard, brushing across his cheekbones and down to rest on his lips.
"Verso," Gustave breathes against his fingers, reverent. "My Verso."
"Yours," Verso agrees.
"I... can I..." he wants to kiss him. So badly it aches.
"Please." There's something so soft and warm in Verso's eyes. A need. A desire.
Gustave needs no further invitation. He surges forward, bringing their lips together in a desperate kiss.
Verso gasps against him, going still for just a moment, just long enough for Gustave to worry he'd misread him. But then he's kissing back, hard and hungry.
"Mine," he pants, breathless, pulling Gustave closer, into his lap, until there's not even air between them. "My pilot."
Gustave can feel the smile against his lips and leans up to press a kiss to that adorable dimple in his nose.
"My crazy, reckless, beautiful Mandalorian."
Verso laughs, a warm sound Gustave wants to hear always, and lets his head fall to Gustave's shoulder.
Gustave wraps his arms around him, holding him close. "Don't scare me like that again," he orders. "Never again, you hear me?"
"I can't promise that," Verso says, voice muffled by Gustave's jacket. "The lives we lead... the Rebellion needs us. I won't stop taking risks."
"Then promise me you'll always do your best to come back to me, at least."
"That I can do. And I will. I'll always come home to you."
Gustave rewards that with another kiss, hungry and desperate. Verso moans into it, his hands sneaking up under Gustave's shirt to feel the skin of his back.
"Stars. I need to get you back to base and out of that armor," Gustave says, and Verso moans into the kiss.
"Gonna have to debrief Lune first," he says, and reluctantly pulls back. But his eyes, when they meet Gustave’s, are full of heat. "But then..." he strokes along Gustave's back, his lips lifting in a predatory grin.
"You're going to tease me until we get back to our rooms, aren't you?"
Verso laughs. "What? Like you don't enjoy it."
"Hmm." Gustave pouts. "Well. Two can play at that game." He kisses Verso once more, deep and hard and insistent, until Verso is moaning and breathless. Then he stands, and drops Verso's helmet in his lap.
"Come on. Let's head for the rendezvous point. If we're lucky, Sciel will be early."
Verso blinks up at him, lips kiss-swollen and red. Then he laughs and stands, replacing his helmet and gloves before joining Gustave by the door.
Maelle looks up at them when they exit and smiles brightly.
"Good, you're ready. Sciel’s on her way!"
They start off together, Verso at Gustave's side where he belongs. But this time, as they make their way through the maze that is this city, Verso's hand finds his and he twines their fingers together.