#selfhate from bode tbh

[voidcat-senket]

69 (nice) spyscrapper? Of that whump list you got

He fucked up. He fucked up beyond comprehension, and he doesn't know what to do. Denvik saw him coming, saw them coming. Kata's gone. She's gone. His quarters are spotless- empty. Refreshed. Every sign that he, that she, had lived there is gone.

They saw the Inquisition ships leave the spaceport. The Mantis parked in the higher hanger, hidden by a reluctant, furious Merrin, but it didn't matter. The moment he stepped onto the grounds, they met him with cuffs and blasters ready. He did not accept them.

So they fought their way here. Nova Garon is a graveyard now, and none of it matters.

Kata is gone. Denvik is gone. And Bode- he might as well be gone, too. His dark eyes rove over the room from where he's collapsed to his knees; the white walls distort as a cold tear slides down his face.

What an idiot he'd been, what a blindly optimistic fool, to think that he could have it all. Cal? Tanalorr? A family for him and Kata, aunts and uncles for her to love? What make him think he could possibly deserve such a thing? That the galaxy would allow him something so kind, after everything he'd done. After everything he'd betrayed.

He feels the pressure of fingers on his shoulder and flinches away, turning his head away. Cal leaks hurt and anxious worry and need, so much need, and Bode can't- handle that, right now. He can't handle anything. He needs- he needs to not function for a while. He needs to erase everything. He needs to-

He needs to breathe he can't breath it is stifling here his chest feels like it's caving in.

"…Bode?" Cal asks, his hand sliding down Bode's arm as he squats next to him, catching in his elbow. He's loud- loud in the Force, flames pressing up against his shields and trying to press in, catching at him needily. "Bode, we can still go get her. I- I've been there before. We've can still save her, it's not too late. And Denvik-"

"That's enough." Bode grits his teeth, staring blankly out the window that overlooks the hangar, Denvik's personal shuttle long gone. Oh, he's not running from the Inquisitorius, Bode knows. He gave them Kata and is riding the wave to ISB Headquarters. He's heading straight for Coruscant. And Bode- Bode's face will be everywhere soon.

Maybe it already is.

"Bode. Come on. If we move now we can still-"

"That's all you can do," he interrupts Cal. Silent meets him; Cal's hands are both wrapped around his bicep and Bode can feel his grip tighten to the point of pain.

"Bode. Bode, I know you're hurting, but there's still more we can do. Bode, will you look at me? Bode."

There's just too much. There's too much and there's no room inside Bode to hold any of it. He already doesn't have any oxygen. Bode stands up in a smooth motion, shaking Cal off, and pads the dozen feet to the bed, pitching onto it face first. It doesn't even smell like her anymore, it doesn't smell like anyone.

Like they never existed at all. It would've been better if he'd never existed at all.

The door forces open. He hears blaster bolts, hears the sharp gasps as Cal bounces them back and the stormtroopers fall. He doesn't get up. He doesn't fight.

Why should he. Why should he do anything.

Kata's gone and Vader's Horrorhouse has her.

What did he ever do but make her life sadder, smaller, worse?

Cal grabs his shoulder again but his hands are wet now, and Bode smells that it's blood. "Bode, come on, we can't stay here, they're going to just keep coming."

What did he ever do but make Cal's life sadder, smaller, worse? Tayala's life? His own life?

"Just leave me here and go."

"Bode, please." The drop that hits the back of his neck is cold- not blood then. Tears.

Smaller. Sadder. Worse.

"It'll be better if you just go."