X-Wing: To Live Again at Last by JT

[thedarlingone]

To Live Again at Last (4565 words) by thedarlingone
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Wedge Antilles & Tycho Celchu & Wes Janson & Derek "Hobbie" Klivian, Inyri Forge & Wes Janson, Wedge Antilles ~ Wes Janson, Tycho Celchu ~ Wes Janson, Wes Janson ~ Derek "Hobbie" Klivian
Characters: Wedge Antilles, Tycho Celchu, Wes Janson, Derek "Hobbie" Klivian, Inyri Forge
Additional Tags: Aromantic, aromantic Wes Janson, Inspired by Fanfiction, Queerplatonic Relationships, Mental Health Issues, Friendship, Sequel
Summary:

Direct sequel to "Nonspecific Excuse" by irenkaferalkitty. Twenty years ago, Wes Janson disappeared. Now he's been reunited with his old friends, but they have a lot of patching up to do.

Inspired by Nonspecific Excuse by IrenkaFeralKitty.



After a while sitting cuddled with Wes on the old sofa, Hobbie stirred and reached for his comlink. "Wedge and Tycho will want to know," he said. He was so happy. Wes was alive and back in his life.

Wes reached out and took Hobbie's wrist in one hand, giving him a wordless look of panic at the names.

"Wes..." Hobbie hugged Wes tight with his free arm. "Wes, I promise, it'll be okay. What..." This wasn't the Wes he knew. He couldn't simply assume he understood his onetime wingmate's thinking any longer. They had to communicate. "Wes, I want to understand, but I need you to use your words. What are you afraid of?"

Wes gulped and shuddered, drawing in on himself. "They'll be angry," he murmured, barely above a whisper, his eyes fixed on the floor. "They won't--" A sob jerked from his chest, startling them both. He turned tear-wet eyes on Hobbie. "Th-they don't want me. Please, Hobbs. Don't..." He sniffled sharply and started crying again, twisting to bury his face in Hobbie's shoulder.

Hobbie held Wes close, rubbing his back through the wrenching sobs. How... how had they ever neglected their friend to this point? True, twenty years of separation couldn't have helped, but the true damage had been done before Wes ever left Coruscant.

"Please, Wes," Hobbie murmured once Wes's sobs slowed to sniffles again. "Unless you plan to stay hiding in this office indefinitely, you're going to have to face them at some point. Better to get it over with in private." He didn't think reassurances that Wedge and Tycho wouldn't be angry would have any effect. Wes wasn't capable of believing that right now.

Wes felt in one of his pockets for tissues and blew his nose resoundingly. "Don't tell them I'm here," he asked simply. "Just... you can ask them to come down here."

That was fair. Anyway, it would probably do Wes's scarred spirit the most good if he could actually see the shock and relief and joy on Wedge and Tycho's faces when they learned he was alive. Wes needed serious professional help, but... showing him he wasn't hated or unwanted might be a good first step.

Hobbie took out his comlink, hating the guarded look in Wes's eyes. They were all going to have to regain his trust, and it wasn't going to be easy. "Hey, Wedge, Tycho?" he said.

Wedge's voice came back quickly. "We're both here. What is it, Hobbie?"

"Can you two both meet me in the old admin room? I... there's something you need to see."

"Okay," Wedge said slowly, sounding confused and concerned.

"Nothing dangerous," Hobbie reassured them. "Just... something I can't explain over comms. Something good."

"We'll be there," Wedge said, and closed the channel.

Wes nestled closer to Hobbie and took his hand in a bone-crushing grip. "This is wrong," he muttered. "I should have left."

"And abandon the Princess?" Hobbie asked. It was a low blow, but it worked; Wes shot him an outraged look and stopped muttering.

"I'd leave her my ship," he said, sounding hurt. "I could take... something."

How could Wes still be so blind? "I strongly doubt she cares that much about your ship," Hobbie told him, willing him to understand. "She cares about you. We all do."

Wes looked like he had another retort on his lips, but then the door slid open and he jerked back from it, actually cringing into the couch cushions like a child expecting an angry scolding.

Wedge, Tycho, and Inyri entered the room, glancing around in different directions for Hobbie. Wedge saw them first and went white. "Wes?"

Wes dug his fingers into Hobbie's knee with bruising force. He didn't speak; Hobbie could feel him trembling.

Now all three were just staring at them, a mixture of joy and hesitation on their faces. Wedge made the first move. "Wes, I'm so sorry," he said, taking a few hesitant steps forward. "I must have hurt you so badly. Please forgive me."

"We all did," Tycho added. "We're sorry and we want to make amends, if you'll let us."

Wes buried his face in his hands. Not crying, this time--he seemed to be out of tears for the moment--but shaking as if his conflicting emotions would tear him apart. He let out a choked noise that sounded like it might have tried to be a word but wasn't succeeding.

Hobbie ran his fingers comfortingly through Wes's fluffy curls. "Wes, would it be okay if we all hugged you?" he asked gently. Wes had always been a very physically affectionate man. Hobbie didn't know where those boundaries lay anymore, but he was willing to bet that twenty years of loneliness hadn't changed Wes to that extent.

Wes flinched. "I don't--I can't--" His voice was unsteady. "Please get the yelling over with so I can leave." He still hadn't looked up at them again.

"Wes, no." Wedge crossed the rest of the space and knelt down by the sofa, careful not to touch Wes. "No yelling. Never. We failed you. We kriffed up." He was radiating all the honesty and charisma and humility that had made him the leader he was. "Please, Wes. We miss you so much. Please let us try to make things right."

Wes let out a sob like a hiccup and started crying again, bent over his knees, rubbing at his eyes with his hands. "This isn't real," he mumbled desolately.

Hobbie blinked. "What?"

Wes sat up and blew his nose again fiercely. "Face it, Janson, you've finally lost it," he said in a conversational tone. "Coming here was a huge mistake. Too many memories. You need to get out." He was constantly glancing from one to another of them, as if he expected something horrible to happen.

Hobbie still had his hand resting on Wes's back. He grabbed for Wes's forearm, careless of the danger to himself. "Wes, what?" he asked again. "You think we're hallucinations?"

Wes turned to him, angry. "How else?" he snapped, distraught enough that he wasn't using full sentences. "You'd never--" He gestured, indicating not just Hobbie but the whole room.

"Wes, listen to yourself," Tycho said gently. "You'd rather believe you've snapped and are hallucinating than that we could regret hurting you?"

Wes actually screamed, a wordless howl of frustration. "It would make more sense!" he snarled. Shaking off Hobbie's grip, he sprang up, as well as he could in the heavy gravity of Sedesia, and tried to make for the door. Unfortunately, the path he chose took him straight through Tycho.

Hobbie had to bite back a laugh. Tycho clearly saw the collision coming and would have had time to step aside, but instead chose to brace. Wes, having apparently decided to show his "hallucinations" who was boss, took two or three of the longest angry steps his short legs could manage, and cannoned into Tycho at full speed.

Tycho caught Wes and stabilized him before he could fall on his ass. "Don't want you to break a hip, old man," he teased gently.

Wes looked up, his righteous anger deflating. "You're a very solid hallucination," he joked wryly.

Tycho didn't argue, just wrapped his arms around Wes. "Is it so strange that losing someone we loved might have made us question how we'd driven him away?"

Wes buried his face in Tycho's shoulder, sniffling. "I couldn't--I never--"

"Shhh," Tycho soothed him, patting his back. "Explanations can come later. I think there should be room for all of us to cuddle you on that couch, don't you?"

Wes made a distressed noise. "I don't deserve--"

Hobbie rolled his eyes. "Let yourself have this, Wes," he said. "Just for now." He looked over to Wedge, who had gotten back up, but looked more than a little distressed that Wes had been so ready to doubt his own sanity, or so unwilling to accept that Wedge could be asking his forgiveness.

Wedge moved awkwardly out of the way as Tycho steered Wes back to the sofa. "I can leave," Wedge offered, sounding uncertain.

"Nobody is leaving," Hobbie said. It came out in his command voice, and everybody stared at him for a second. Oh well, in for a credit, in for a hundred. Hobbie plowed ahead. "Everybody is going to sit down right here, and nobody is leaving this room until we manage to talk things out. I am not losing any of you to any more misunderstandings."

Wes blinked at him several times and started giggling exhaustedly. "And thus Hobbie uses up his word allotment for about the next year and change," he said, plopping back down on the sofa next to Hobbie. "Good life choices, Hobbs."

"Who would I talk to if you're not there?" Hobbie asked him. Great, that was... a lot more honesty than he'd really planned to lay out this early in the conversation.

Wes's eyes flicked shyly over to him, then around at the other three. "Anyone else in this room?"

He might as well keep going. Try to convince Wes he was loved and wanted. "They're not you," Hobbie said, knowing that none of the others would take offense.

Tycho sat down on Wes's other side and pulled Wedge firmly into his lap, pinning him with an arm around his slim waist. "We missed you, Wes. If our apologies sounded... rote, it's because we've spent the last twenty years dreaming of what we'd want to say to you if we had one more chance."

"It's not that," Wes said, blushing.

Tycho tilted his head. "What is it, then?"

Wes's face was flaming. "I--I wanted it too much. It's, it's..." He choked. "I'm the one who needs forgiveness. I ran away. Having you all back? Begging me--Wedge on his knees? It's just not realistic."

Wedge snorted a laugh at that. "Well, thank you for your critical analysis," he said dryly.

Wes leaned back and ran his hands through his hair. "Why do you even want me anymore? You've seen what I'm like. I'm a wreck."

Inyri coughed. "Before anyone tries to answer that, I have an apology as well."

Wes looked up, and there was an unpleasant light in his eyes. "You have nothing to apologize for," he said with an edge in his voice.

Inyri folded her arms and stared down at him. "Don't lie to me, Wes Janson. We need to clear the air. Now, I'd prefer to have this conversation in private so you don't have to worry about hurting anybody's feelings, but I can say what I need to say here if I have to."

Wes smirked a bit. "Translation: Janson, I know you're trying to goad someone into a fight, and I'm the only person here who might give you one, so you're going to follow my lead." He gave a sharp, weary little laugh. "Fine. Let's find an empty room and spare Hobbie's delicate feelings." He levered himself up out of the sofa.

"You three," Inyri told the other pilots, "stay here. If I catch you eavesdropping, you'll all be in serious trouble."

Wedge gave her a look. "Yes, ma'am," he said pointedly.

"You wanted to be a civilian, Wedge," Hobbie teased him.

Wes turned to Inyri. "Let's go."

***

They found an empty office not too far away from the admin room, but far enough that raised voices wouldn't carry. Wes sat down in one of the chairs and turned to Inyri. "So," he said simply.

"I messed up," Inyri said. She sat down on the desk near him. "I knew when Hobbie and I got involved that the two of you were a package deal. We talked about how we could include you in our life together. But I never communicated with you about it."

Wes gave her a stubborn look. "You had no obligation to," he said. "You're his wife. I'm not capable of--of being that important to him." His eyes stung, and he squeezed them quickly shut. He'd cried more today than he had in the last twenty years. With his old friends, it was... bearable. With Inyri, he didn't want to start crying again. He wanted to fight, scream, make somebody understand that he wasn't worth all this gentleness and concern.

"You're his wingmate," Inyri said. "Still are. He misses you every time he flies with me. I know it."

Wes just glowered. "Keep digging," he said grumpily. His head was starting to hurt, probably from dehydration from all the crying.

"I wanted to surprise you," Inyri said. "We'd picked out a place with room for three. I was going to tell you when we came back from the honeymoon. I have regretted every day since that I didn't tell you there was room for you in our relationship before... well, before you felt completely cut out."

Wes stared at her in disbelief. Inyri was the first person to actually understand what he'd felt and why he'd fled. But... "You're crazy," he said flatly. "It never would have worked."

Inyri tilted her head, challenging him. "Why?"

Wes fumbled for words. "He would have had to choose," he said slowly. "Eventually. You'd have become jealous. Or I would. We can't just... people don't do that. I'd always have known I was in second place."

Inyri gave him one of those understanding looks that made him want to crawl under the table. He didn't want to be understood. He wanted to be angry and frustrated and not going through this.

"You don't trust Hobbie to have enough love for us both?" she asked gently.

Wes choked. "It's not like that. I'm not--I can't give him what you do. What he needs. My love is..." He made a crunching motion with his hand in front of his heart, struggling to express himself.

"You don't feel that the kind of love you can offer him is as valuable as what others can have," Inyri said.

Wes stuck his chin out defiantly. "Because it's not."

"Why? Are you holding anything of yourself back?"

Wes crossed his arms on the table and put his head down on top of them. "Why can't we just have a nice knock-down drag-out fight?" he demanded.

Inyri laughed. "Because you won't let yourself. You've been telling yourself for twenty years that I was in the right, that your jealousy was unfounded, that you had to be understanding and step aside and let your closest and last friend be torn from you."

Wes choked on a sob. "I... I still remember your wedding," he admitted. "Seeing him look at you. Like you were the only person in the room." He searched his pockets for tissues, found none, and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "I hated you for that. Hated myself for hating you. I... I couldn't let my stupid jealousy destroy his chance for happiness when I couldn't even replace you."

"So you left," Inyri said gently.

"At first I was just going to have a drink or two. Try to stop the hurting. Get myself under control. Every time I thought of the two of you together it felt like I was being stabbed." The tears weren't going to stop. Wes ignored them and let them flow. "It didn't work. I went looking for more alcohol. And then caf. And then I realized I'd missed... more time than I thought." He swiped at his eyes again and sniffled. "There would have been questions. I didn't know what to say. How... how could I risk letting Hobbie find out that his marriage, his happiness, was hurting me so badly I had to drink myself into oblivion?"

"I'm sorry," Inyri said sympathetically.

"So I just. Didn't come back. And didn't come back. By the time I was anywhere near functional again, it was too late. I'd destroyed my chance to ever come back to the Rogues. To--" He started sobbing again. "To even spend any t-time around the people who..."

Inyri dug around in her own pockets and handed him another pack of tissues. "Who'd abandoned you?"

A wail surprised Wes, jolting straight from his diaphragm. "Yes!" he snapped miserably. "I'm pathetic, I know. If there'd been any chance, I might have come back, let myself pretend they still wanted me around. Taken what scraps of their time and attention I could get. But I couldn't return when all I'd get was court-martialed and thrown out anyway."

"You've made a lot of assumptions about what would happen if you came back to them," Inyri said. "Just an observation. I know you were doing your best."

"Stop being so nice!" Wes complained.

Inyri shrugged. "You're hardly cursing my name."

Wes sniffled again and gave her a weary glare. "Do you want me to?"

"If it'll help you work this out of your system," Inyri said. "But the offer's still open. Hobbie and I have room for you in our house. You could come live with us."

Wes shook his head. "I can't--I can't intrude."

"You won't be. We want you around. You can have your own set of rooms, but spend as much time with Hobbie as you want."

Wes dug his fingernails into his palms. "I can't. It wouldn't be... I'd take too much of him from you. I don't have that right."

"Even if we're both giving it to you?" Inyri sighed. "Wes, look at me."

Wes looked up. "Please, Inyri, just stop. I know you're trying to help and it's not working."

"Wes," Inyri said. "If a person who's been well fed and a starving man sit down to the same meal, does the well-fed person have any right to complain that the starving man is eating more of the food?"

Wes bowed his head on his crossed arms again and gave in to his tears. Hearing Inyri acknowledge his long-starved heart's hunger, knowing she understood, having her permission to take as much of Hobbie's time and attention as he craved... he still couldn't bring himself to fully believe it would last, but he couldn't deny himself the chance to try.

When he had cried himself out again, he sat up. "The others are probably worrying that I've run off again," he said wryly.

"Or that I've had to stun you," Inyri joked. "Let's go reassure them."

***

While Wes and Inyri were out of the room, Hobbie started trying to explain what little he'd picked up of Wes's story to Wedge and Tycho.

"We left him," he said. "We were so focused on our own families that we forgot we were also his family. His only family."

Wedge frowned. "I'm not trying to place any blame, Hobbie, but why didn't he say something? Wes has never been shy."

"A couple of factors, I think," Hobbie said. "First, he was still struggling from Distna. You know how he hates to have any attention paid to his own trauma. He probably felt he should be able to get over it. Not bother us."

"Idiot," Wedge muttered fondly.

Hobbie nodded in agreement. "Second, he feels... broken, unworthy, because he's not wired to simply find a partner of his own. He told me he felt he'd be making unreasonable demands if he tried to take our attention away from our families."

"That's horrible," Tycho said bluntly. "It explains a lot, but... I wish we'd known."

Wedge nodded. "We could have done so much more to let him know that he is a part of our families. He's never even met my daughters."

"He would have loved being a terrible influence on them," Hobbie agreed.

"It may not be too late for that," Tycho said dryly. "They're, what, sixteen and seventeen? Prime age for picking up bad influences."

"Hey," Wedge protested. "I really hoped to have my daughters not grow up running around Rebel bases."

"And yet," Hobbie said in the smugly mournful tone he used when the world was terrible according to prediction.

"They have time," Tycho said. "But it might actually be safer to have them with us if this First Order keeps attacking population centers."

"I am aware," Wedge said. "I just hate it."

The door hissed open, and Wes and Inyri reentered. Wes looked a little different, slightly less... brittle-edged than he had been, though his eyes were still red-rimmed. He was carrying a half-empty water bottle in one hand. "Are we having fun yet?" he asked, almost cheerfully.

"Without you? Never," Hobbie said. He patted the sofa next to him for Wes to come sit down.

It took a little shuffling, but they eventually got everyone arranged, Hobbie and Tycho cuddling on each side of Wes, Wedge on his lap, and Inyri leaning over Hobbie from the sofa arm.

"This is nice," Wes admitted.

"I seem to recall somebody asking why we wanted him around," Hobbie said.

Wedge coughed lightly. "Maybe we could start from the beginning and get everybody on the same page."

"I explained a bit of what you told me," Hobbie said to Wes. "That you were having trouble with your memories of Distna, and that when we started partnering off, you felt we were leaving you all alone again."

Wedge leaned his head on Wes's shoulder. "I'm not blaming you in any way for what happened, Wes," he said, "but I am curious. Why didn't you say anything? We would have been happy to include you more if we'd known."

Wes shook his head, almost reflexively. "You have to understand," he said. "Taanab is... incredibly clannish. Every holiday is focused on family, by blood and marriage. You can't..." He gulped. "Asking to be included in someone's family celebrations when you're not related is--is not just taboo, it's unthinkable. You don't even hint. Unless someone flat-out asks you to spend the holiday with them, you don't admit you have no other plans. I..." He dragged in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Maybe I should have realized. You're not Taanabian. I guess it's different for you. But I literally never even thought of asking. I didn't realize anyone would have imagined I could, until Myn asked me one time why I hadn't, and I didn't have an answer for him."

"Wait," Inyri said. "Myn Donos? Is that why he hasn't spoken to us since the Empire fell?"

Wes looked sheepish. "I'm afraid so," he said. "He and his partner, Kirney Slane, are longtime friends of mine. Kirney has... some experience in creating false identities, so when I finally pulled my head together and decided to get off Coruscant, I contacted her for help. They put me to work flying transports for their company, Donoslane Excursions. I've been living as Ven Donos, a fictitious relative of Myn's."

"So he was, what, afraid he'd let something slip?" Tycho asked.

Wes chuckled a bit. "More like afraid he'd rip into the group of you for how he felt you treated me. Myn is... partisan, these days." A dimple flickered into existence for a second. "To be completely honest, I'm still deciding whether to let him give you the rant he's been building up for twenty years. It might be cathartic."

"For him or for you?" Inyri asked, teasing a bit.

"Both," Wes said, grinning.

Wedge sighed. "I hate to be this person, but Tycho and I are still well behind on the details of your disappearing act, Wes. Can we please get a general framework of what happened, in order?"

"How about somebody else tells it?" Wes suggested. "This would be my third time today. Fourth time since meeting up with the Princess."

"I can," Inyri offered. Wes nodded.

"All right, so we've established that Wes was feeling more and more isolated as the rest of us paired off," Inyri said. "When Hobbie and I got married, he felt he had no one left to turn to. He didn't plan to disappear: he went out drinking, lost track of time, and when his head eventually cleared, he panicked and lost himself in bedrock-level Coruscant rather than come back and try to explain."

"Oh, Wes," Wedge said, hugging him tight. "I'm so sorry. We failed you so badly."

Wes frowned. "How?" he asked. "I'm the one who ran away instead of getting my head on straight."

Wedge shook his head. "We'd already pushed you out and lost your trust, to the point that you didn't feel you could come back and get a fair hearing. There were... things you could have done better, especially about letting someone know you were still having trouble from Distna, but we absolutely should have made sure you still felt welcome and included as our families grew. That was our responsibility, my responsibility, and I let you down."

Wes looked uncomfortable. "Anyway, I think it was most of a year before I got my head together enough to contact Kirney about a new identity. She and Myn were happy to oblige. They encouraged me to contact you, a few times, but they didn't push. I... I just couldn't think what to say. I couldn't imagine you'd want me back."

Hobbie flicked the side of Wes's head. "Well, we do," he said.

Wes sighed. "Which brings us back to my original question. Why? I'm no fun to be around anymore. Now that you're here, nobody needs my piloting or leadership skills, such as they are. I'm not... mentally reliable."

"Because we love you, idiot," Tycho said. "You're our friend. We miss you desperately and we want you in our lives, in every way you didn't think you could ask for." He ruffled Wes's hair fondly.

"Also, my daughters need a bad influence in their lives," Wedge said.

Wes lit up. "You had kids! How old are they?"

"Syal is seventeen and Myri is sixteen," Wedge said proudly.

Wes chuckled. "I'm flattered you think I'm a high enough quality bad influence to suit your offspring, but I really doubt a pair of strong-willed teenage girls are going to want to hang out with a washed-up old pilot of their father's generation."

Hobbie flicked Wes's head again.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Stop badmouthing yourself," Hobbie ordered.

Wes stuck out his tongue. "You can't give me orders, Mister Klivian."

"Oh no?" Hobbie started tickling Wes, who yelped loudly and elbowed him. Inyri just laughed and moved off the sofa arm, giving them more room to flail. Wedge slid off Wes's lap and sat down by the desk.

"So what do you think?" Wedge asked Inyri while they watched Wes unsuccessfully try to tickle Hobbie. "Should we get Myn down here and let him deliver that rant Wes mentioned he has brewing?"

"It might be a good first step toward rebuilding some bridges," Inyri said. "Now that we know he was protecting Wes, I feel a lot less resentful about the way he cut us all off after the war."

"Couldn't very well have us coming to visit," Wedge agreed. "I'm glad Wes has had some good friends helping him out, even if they weren't us."

Inyri smiled, looking at Wes and Hobbie. "I'm glad too. I think things might finally be starting to work out for Wes."

"I'm going to do my damnedest to make sure they do," Wedge agreed. "And I think I will ask Iella to bring the girls here when she can. Wes deserves to meet them."