shadowmaat:

Jango saw the lightsaber coming for his head and the sounds of the battle faded. All he could hear was the hum of the saber and Boba screaming for him.

He ducked.

The saber hit his helmet, shearing off a portion of it and scoring a line of fire across his jaw. If it had caught him in the neck or if he hadn’t been wearing beskar’gam, he’d be dead. He fired at the dark-skinned Jedi again before turning to run across the sand towards his son.

Boba was already running towards him… straight through the battle.

“Boba, no!” He lifted his blaster as a battledroid took aim at Boba’s unprotected chest. As fast as his reflexes were, he knew he wouldn’t be fast enough to stop it.

Instead it was a clone who tackled Boba to the ground, taking the shot to his shoulder. Jango shot the droid and three more with it before reaching the fallen clone and Boba.

“Kriff, that hurt,” the clone said in Jango’s voice.

Jango scooped Boba into his arms, holding him tight.

“Thank you,” he said. 

“No problem sir.” The clone started to stand, favoring his injured shoulder. “Might wanna get the little nipper outta here, though. This is no place for a cadet.”

“You’re right,” Jango said.

Standing there in the middle of a battlefield, feeling the burn of what should have been a fatal blow and holding his sobbing son, it finally occurred to him that some things were more important than contracts. He ignited his jetpack and left.

Eventually he and Boba settled in the outer rim, as far from the developing war as they could get and still be in semi-civilized space. There was enough money to keep them situated comfortably, though he still sometimes took the odd bodyguard job or shipping escort. Mostly, though, he just spent time with Boba.

“Dad, please? I’ll take care of it, I promise!” Boba cradled the squirming kitten in his arms. Both of them were covered with dirt and cobwebs.

“There’s a lot of training involved with keeping a cat,” Jango said. “It isn’t like an eel that’s content to stay in its tank, a kitten will want to run around and shred things. It needs to be trained to a litterbox.” He crossed his arms and stared down at his son. “Are you sure you’re up for the responsibility?”

“Yes- ow!- Yes, I am!” Boba wrinkled his nose as the kitten crawled up his chest to perch on his shoulder. Boy and kitten stared up at him with wide eyes. Jango sighed, knowing he’d already lost and having a hard time feeling sorry about it. He reached out to scratch the kitten’s head.

“I guess he’s yours, then.”

“Thank you!” Boba flung himself into a hug, almost dislodging the kitten, who mewled in protest.

Jango returned the hug, feeling warmed right through. He smiled, feeling the tug of scar tissue on his jaw. He could have afforded a better healing job, but sometimes it was good to have a reminder of how close he’d come to losing everything.

Twelve, or “almost thirteen,” as Boba insisted, was a little old to still be needing your hand held as you walked, but when his son reached up Jango held tight. Part of him suspected that Boba only did it to comfort him, but if so, he wasn’t about to say anything.

Some of their lessons had changed, too. Jango still made sure Boba knew how to take care of himself. They still went out to the woods to practice with a variety of weapons and went into town so he could learn how to negotiate with sellers in the marketplace. There were practice runs in Slave 1 so Boba could learn the controls and get a better grasp of navigation as well as all the secrets the ship had to offer. But in addition to all of that Jango also started teaching him how to play and have fun. He had friends, now, and in order to fit in he needed to know the games other kids knew. Ballgames and racing games and games with inexplicable rules. Sometimes Jango learned right along with him.

There were classroom courses as well. Some were conducted virtually at home, but some also happened in person to help with socialization. It hurt Jango’s heart to watch his son leave the house on those days, but he wanted to do what was best for Boba, and if bounty hunting was out of the picture then he needed to find something else. Something that he loved rather than what his father told him to do.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?” Jango glanced down, shaken out of his musings.

“Can we stop at the library on the way home?”

That was another change, and one Jango had been slow to accept. Boba loved to read. Not just history books and instruction manuals, but fiction. He’d always discouraged such frivolities before, but after they’d been out here for a few months Boba had come up to him and asked about it. He’d squirmed and shuffled his feet and looked so guilty before admitting that he liked to read adventure stories and other silly fluff like that. It was something he’d been afraid to talk about and that convinced Jango that maybe the old way of doing things hadn’t been the right way. At least not for Boba. Reading made him happy, and if his son was happy then that made him happy, too. The library became one of their regular stops. Jango still didn’t see the point of fiction, but it wasn’t all Boba read, either. There were plenty of texts on biology, ecology, engineering, mechanics, and so many other subjects he wasn’t sure he could remember them all.

“I don’t know if they allow animals inside.”

Boba’s face fell, his lower lip pouting out as he rubbed his face against the kitten’s fur.

“But I suppose I could stay outside with the little monster while you go in and browse. Thirty minutes only,” he warned.

Boba beamed at him. “You’re the best, Dad!”

Jango wasn’t and he knew it, but he was getting better every day. He smiled, tousling Boba’s hair and earning a resigned “Daaaaad!”

They’d stop at the library. And maybe they’d grab ice cream on the way home. And then after Boba and his latest acquisition were sound asleep Jango would send another message to his contact within the GAR. He still hated the Jedi. He still hated their war. But that trooper’s selflessness on Geonosis had reminded him that while Boba was his son, he owed a lot to the rest of the clones, too. He’d make sure they were free to live their own lives, and with the information he’d stolen from the Kaminoans those lives would now be just as long as Boba’s. And it it happened to ruin the Jedi’s plans and cause a certain Korun bastard a lot of headaches, well, that was just a bonus, wasn’t it?