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deathlydagger · 3 years ago

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Laying Low

Quick snippet of being in hiding for Caleb, Depa and Grey.

Caleb pov, some Depa/Grey

Being on the run came with a list of limitations four parsecs long, like nights-long sessions spent planning and worrying and planning again, or a persistent bellyache you couldn’t be sure was from the strain or steady depletion of food supplies. For the first time in his life, Caleb didn’t mind being coddled when the chance presented itself. It sold the act better.

“Kanan, keep close to me,” his master crooned as they made their way through the morning market, reaching the hand not holding their basket back toward him as he lagged behind a few steps. She couldn’t be faulted for being over protective these days.

“Yes, Mom,” he complied, taking her hand and a fistful of her cloak, looking every bit a civilian child.

The odd thing about playing a part, he thought, was how much opportunity it afforded you. Before, his master rarely bestowed physical affection with the same frequency as verbal praise, but now she squeezed his hand as a comfort without a thought. He’d lost his braid out of necessity, but she still combed her fingers through his hair before bed the way other mothers did with pride in her eyes. Despite the braid’s absence, she still tugged his hood further over his face when it slipped as they walked.

“Good news, we’ll have some leftover funds this month.”

Grey.

Grey had come to find them, after Depa had grabbed Caleb and ran. The day being a blur may have been in part to the Force—granting his master speed in their flight, having leant to an impressive Force jump and the second drop in Caleb’s stomach that hour—and adrenaline. After meeting new clones who had as much idea of what was happening as they did, and spending days dodging through the trees, Grey came to find them. Himself, on their private comm, not the blankness that had taken over the rest of their men; other than to tell Caleb not to worry, Gray wouldn’t say what happened with them before they fled the planet in a stolen ship.

His armor was back at their current hideaway, wearing instead a cloak that matched theirs and a thigh holster over the civilian garb Depa had been proud fit him.

“That’s good,” Depa replied easily, “We can build our savings a bit.” She paused at a stand to look over produce for the week, Grey guiding Caleb out of her path as she moved down the table.

“Delia! So good to see you!” A voice called, and Depa smiled charmingly at the stand’s owner.

“Good morning, I see the jogan fruit arrived,” she pointed out. The man scratched his beard and gave a relieved sigh.

“Finally! I was wondering if the shipment had been jacked, but—“ Caleb readily checked out of the conversation, leaning into Grey as the man’s thumb drew circles where he held Caleb’s shoulder. Somehow Grey not wearing gloves anymore was weirder to Caleb than the man not wearing armor. Caleb looked around, observing the other market goers doing their shopping before the heat of the day picked up, waving at a couple of the children he’d managed to make friends with.

Grey homeschooled him as part of their cover, partly because Caleb was currently ahead of the civilian curriculum for his age, and partly to avoid a paper trail. Among their neighborhood though, Caleb had managed to befriend a few kind children to play with while Depa chatted and made friends with equally kind parents while running errands. The war hadn’t terribly impacted this planet, most never having seen a clone without their helmet, so Grey could walk around without much fear of being labeled a deserter of the empire. As the empire spread its influence and troopers made their way planetside, nowadays Grey kept a scarf or a kerchief tied about his neck.

Caleb tuned back in when he heard his name—or his ‘public’ name, rather.

“Is that so? Kanan seems mighty grown to only be turning twelve!” The man looked at him in disbelief that Caleb knew to be kind teasing. He nodded appreciatively while Depa hummed proudly.

“He likes to think so. He’s grown up so quickly,” She said, and Caleb had to wonder at her meaning. She continued with a small grin, “Kanan is not so grown that he doesn’t want cake for his birthday.”

Grey leaned down to his ear and stage whispered, “Stay little so we get more cake!” He was rewarded with a true laugh from Caleb and a good-natured ‘hmph’ from Depa. After handing credits over to the chuckling vendor she leaned down to Caleb.

“I will make you as many cakes as you want, even when you are grown,” she said, pausing a moment to look at Grey before amending, “Within reason.” She pressed a kiss to Caleb’s head before adjusting his hood and settling their basket back in the crook of her arm. She straightened up and bid the vendor a good day while Caleb smiled to himself. Most boys his age seemed sick of doting mothers and kisses, but he couldn’t be happier to have them. He was, luckily for them, still small for a fourteen year old, and could pass off being a couple years younger with relative ease; Grey and Depa never missed a chance to remark about his still boyish features whenever he brought it up.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Grey hefting him up onto his hip, another thing he was still small enough for no one to question, and Caleb wound his arms around the man’s neck with practiced ease. Grey nodded to the stand owner and followed after Depa, slipping his free arm around her waist once caught up. Being in hiding afforded as many opportunities as it imposed limitations.

“Did you have anything in mind for breakfast, dear?”

“Nothing in particular. Did you, love?”

“Mmm, there are still some pastries left over from yesterday.”

Caleb turned his head to join in, “Those were good!” They had been, pleasantly; not having their food provided for them meant learning how to cook with what they could get ahold of. Depa nodded her agreement.

“They were; your father is getting quite the hang of baking,” she said warmly, and Caleb felt Grey puff up a bit at the praise. “But, if we’re willing to use some of the eggs, I can make us some flatcakes and we can save the pastries for after latemeal tonight.”

Caleb had been put in charge of minding the eggs they’d picked up anyway, excited at the prospect of warm eggs and flatcakes when they arrived home and content with the quiz Grey was giving him as they walked. They’d made one last stop to pick up fresh milk for the week, declining the offer of a delivered milk can in lieu of two smaller churns and privacy, and every time Caleb failed a question the freezing metal was pressed to his neck and arms through the cloak. While Caleb was of the mind Grey could’ve easily toted the bigger milk can home, and a delivery would’ve been normal enough, Depa and Grey felt better safe than sorry.

Today was washing day, and as the small apartment they were in for the time being had a large back balcony, open to the sky but walled to the world, it was inevitable Caleb and Grey would get into a suds war after breakfast. Caleb couldn’t wait. They always came in sopping wet once the clothes were on the line, and Depa would be holding towels out in the entryway and shaking her head smiling.

Depa suddenly stopped in front of him and in a fluid moment she turned and leaned into Grey in what would’ve looked like a kiss between the hooded figures, taking one of milk churns into the basket as they exchanged quiet words. As she leaned away she gestured vaguely in the direction they’d been heading and taking the eggs from Caleb. He saw the troopers approaching the second Grey had lifted him up again.

“Dad—?”

“We’ll see you at the house then, love. You sure you’re alright with the groceries?”

Are you sure you’ll be alright by yourself?

“Oh yes, dear, I shouldn’t be long. I’ll see you and Kanan at home.”

I will be fine. Keep Caleb safe.

Depa calmly continued on the path they’d been walking, and Grey hurried away with Caleb down a side road. Caleb heard them, felt them in the Force approaching his mother. “Excuse me ma’am—“ came the mechanical, stoic voice as Grey rounded another corner.

Grey’s scarf had fallen down, but Caleb’s arms about his neck did enough in a pinch.

They wouldn’t know Depa, had no way of knowing the woman out with her family was a Jedi.

They rounded another corner and Caleb was jostled as Grey adjusted him higher.

No one seemed to be following them, but why stop Depa?

Another street passed and with his heart in his ears Caleb was holding on to his mother’s presence in the Force while he could. He could feel it slipping from him, in the way that told him she was making herself inconspicuous.

They didn’t go directly home, taking side road after alley after back way.

Grey didn’t put him down once they were in the door. Once the milk was in the conservator, he sank to the floor with Caleb. He ran his hand through Caleb’s curls and pressed their foreheads together. Taking a breath that filled his entire chest, Caleb realized they were both shaking; on his exhale, Grey squeezed him tighter.

“Did they see you?” Caleb ventured.

“I don’t know, son.”

Caleb tucked his head against Grey’s shoulder. He should let go and go pack in case they needed to get out fast. He should release his worry into the Force and fill his belly with pastries in case he needed to run with a clear head.

Grey pressed his mouth to Caleb’s temple. “I will keep you safe if things go south,” he said, a solemn vow. “If she isn’t back in half an hour I’m getting the credits and taking you to the ship.” Caleb nodded. As much as he hated the thought of leaving her, Depa’s priority had always been keeping him safe, and Grey was just as protective.

They sat in silence after that, listening for anyone coming up on the apartment and relaxing when approaching footsteps passed. Caleb was searching for Depa in the Force all the while. Grey kept an arm under him and unholstered his pistol after the first set had passed them by.

The half hour mark was getting closer and Caleb was drawing from Grey’s steady resolve to remain calm.

He didn’t feel any large numbers moving towards them, didn’t sense danger but their men in Kaller hadn’t felt like any—

“Mom,” Caleb uttered seconds before the door opened and a breathless Depa dropped their basket in the entryway, bolting the door twice before hurrying to them. Grey dropped his pistol and Depa fell into him, letting him hold onto her as she took Caleb’s face in her hands.

“Mom—“ did they follow you? Are we safe? Are we leaving? Caleb wanted to implore in that single word.

“Shhhh,” she hushed him, folding him into her arms and resting her head atop his. “They were looking for someone else, a local smuggler. Wanted to know if I’d seen them.” Caleb felt Grey wrap his arms around them both and was grateful for the embrace. He melted against Depa and relished in the warmth of her.

Grey adjusted them so Depa could lean against him with Caleb nestled between. “Do you think they recognized any of us?” Caleb felt Grey’s quiet timbre rumble against his side.

Caleb felt Depa shake her head, “I doubt it, you and Caleb left before they should’ve been able to. Our conversation was very brief, the time I took getting home was winding roads and doubling back.” Grey nodded in acknowledgement. “We’re probably safe here for a little while longer.” Another nod.

Caleb took a shuddering breath, relieved and finally truly calm. Depa was home and they were safe. That only left one pressing matter for the morning then…

“Mama?”

Depa gave him an amused hum before answering, “Yes, baby?”

“Can we please have breakfast now?”

Caleb was gently jostled as Depa and Grey chuckled against him and Depa pressed one of those treasured kisses to his curls, “Yes, baby.”

The flatcakes were met with almost twin hums of sweet-toothed appreciation, and afterward the family in hiding went about the rest of their day as they’d planned: with suds being thrown around the balcony after morning lessons, and warm towels scrubbed through dark curls. Caleb watched, bundled in warm towels, as his mother dried his father’s cheek before he leaned down to kiss her, watched her giggle in a way she never had at the Temple before squawking that Grey was dripping cold water on her, to go in and get changed while she snuggled towel-swaddled Caleb on the sofa.

Caleb noted—not for the first time and far from the last—was how much opportunity and freedom not being confined to who you were before afforded you. As Grey rejoined them in dry clothes and discussed plans for Caleb’s birthday while he prepped lunch, Depa combed her fingers through Caleb’s drying hair while they chatted. He’d bring them bits and spoonfuls to try and Caleb would venture that Grey’s brothers would be entirely put off or entirely jealous of the trio’s new life. Caleb was happy to have him in it.

Depa gave him his afternoon lessons, on star charts and hyperspace lanes, while Grey cooked—and it no longer took Caleb by surprise to think of the feeling in his chest as being home.

#this was so lovely to read #star wars #caleb dume #kanan jarrus #depa billaba #commander grey #post #the clone wars #pre star wars rebels #tcw #star wars rebels #little smile on my face

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