He liked it in here. It was quiet, and so far, no-one had tried anything. And no-one had yelled when he snuck a book off the shelf (a children's one, easy to try and read from).

He'd found a corner still near the children's section, out of the way, hidden, but not well enough to escape notice, not really.

"Excuse me, sir, I need to close up for the night. I can check that out for you, if you'd like?"

He hunches in on himself immediately, he knows he's not supposed to-

"M'sorry, ma'am," he manages, holding the book out to her. (He's shaking, and he can feel his control about to snap, and there's flames starting to flicker around his other hand, he tucks it closer to his chest, trying to hide it and stop it.)

The lights are already dimmed, and the flames are too obvious to miss; she takes a step back, but stays calm. "Are you all right, sir?"

"M'sorry," he repeats. "Can- can stop it."

(Contrary to his words, the flames on his hand flares, and he flinches, not quite away from it.)

- yeah. And, living's hard everywhere, but he's a little too scrawny. Somebody's runaway apprentice? Runaway trying to avoid being picked up for an apprentice? She doesn't know, and she suspects she's not going to find out, but in any case he can't stay; it's not safe for anyone, least of all him.

"It's all right," she reassures. "I do need to close up, but how about you wait out front and I'll bring you a sandwich? It won't take long."

He scrambles to his feet, keeping himself hunched over and small, and practically cowering away from her.

"I. Yes ma'am, m'sorry," he's definitely used to obeying anything even remotely phrased as an order. He stumbles slightly as he hurries out of the library, pausing long enough to put the book on the front counter on his way past.

- well, that's concerning.

She works her way through the nightly paperwork, setting the parts that can be left until morning aside, and then shifts a few boxes to unbury the long-range two-way radio that's sat unused in the corner of the office since she was hired. Instructions for how to use it are taped to the side, and she quickly has it working.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is Marisel, the librarian? I was told to contact you if there was an emergency."

"Yes; what's the matter?"

"There's a young man here who, ah - caught fire, when I asked him to leave so I could close up. He hasn't threatened anyone, but he didn't seem to be able to stop, either."

"Ah. Yes, I'll head right out. Are you in any danger now?"

She peeks out the front window to check on him.

He's curled up on the steps, rocking slightly, arms slightly on fire, but held carefully such that there's no risk of anything possibly flammable catching. He manages to look a little more pathetic than dangerous.

"I think I'll be fine."

"Good. I'll be there in a few hours." The line goes dead.

She calls the chief of police, to let him know to warn everyone that the Sith is on her way and the library should be avoided, and then makes a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and takes the book from the counter and one from her to-read pile out front with her. "Hey," she says, softly, as she edges through the door, and then "here you go," as she offers him the sandwich.

He flinches away from her anyway, and then stares at the sandwich in complete confusion (he hadn't believed she was intending to make him one). "I-?" he starts, the flames on one hand dying down, fingers twitching towards the sandwich.

"There you go, it's all right." She crouches down to press the sandwich into his hand, then retreats back to the other side of the steps to sit. "Been a while?"

He watches her go warily (wonders what she wants for this), before wolfing the sandwich down. "Thank you, ma'am," he says.

He nods hesitantly in answer to her question. (Before he ran certainly.)

"Do you want some more?"

He looks away, shakes his head. "No, ma'am, m'fine," he is so obviously lying about that. He wants more, he's still starving, but... He shouldn't ask for more.

Hm.

She goes back in, leaving the books behind, and a few minutes later returns with bread and peanut butter and jam.

"So, how did you end up out here?" she asks, spreading peanut butter on a slice of bread.

He hasn't moved, and continues to watch her cautiously out of the corner of his eyes.

He shrugs, doesn't really want to answer that. (He doesn't want to be sent back.) "M- not sure?" That's not a lie, not really, not about how he ended up here precisely.

"All right." Jam. Sandwich. For him, the sandwich.

It takes him a moment to take it, but it goes down as rapidly as the first one once he does.

She starts on another. "Any plans for where you're going next?"

He shakes his head - he's worried about where she's going with these, about someone taking this much interest, but...

But she's feeding him and hasn't hurt him yet. "Hadn't thought this far ahead."

She nods, "that's all right," and offers him the sandwich, then closes up the jars and bag and sets them aside.

"I have a friend coming by in a while; will you wait for her with me?"

The third sandwich quickly goes the same way as the other two.

Then he shrinks in on himself again, and then nods. "Yes, ma'am." (He seems to be taking it more as an order then a request.)

Poor kid's probably spent some time around some Sith already, with that reaction.

"Were you done with your book?" She offers it over.

He looks cautiously at her hands, and the book. And his hand slowly edges over to take it, looking ready to pull back at any moment if she shows any sign of displeasure.

She's sort of carefully not making eye contact, mostly. The book stays where it is until he takes it.

He takes it, and shuffles slightly further away from her, and hunches over the book, flipping it open in his lap. (His other hand still isn't completely free of flames, but he keeps it well away from the book.)

She leaves him to it, directing her attention to her own book.

After a while - the sun has started to set, and it's beginning to get chilly - a speeder starts up the road toward them, and she gets up to go meet it. "Stay here," she tells the boy as she stands.

He's started shivering by this point (what he's wearing really isn't up to the dusk temperatures here).

"Yes, ma'am," he nods and carefully pushes the book as far away from himself as he can. Then he curls back around himself, rocking himself, and the flames spread back over his arms. (He's grateful for the warmth, but he doesn't think it's going to be helpful.)

She meets the speeder in the road; it's not really far enough for privacy, but better than nothing, and it seems like a good idea to give the kid some space.

"Evening, Levi."

    "Evening, Maris. Esser wants the kid out of town."

"Esser's going to get himself killed one of these years. The boy is fine; he's not hurting anything, he's just scared."

    "He's dangerous, Maris."

Sigh. "And pushing him around isn't going to make anybody safer. My boss is on her way; do you want to offend her, if she decides he's one of hers?"

    "- no, can't say I do."

"Then leave him alone. If he goes on a rampage, then you can play hero."

    "...all right, fair enough. I can't just leave you alone with him, though."

"Fine, just stay back. He's nervous enough with me."

    "All right."

She heads back up the steps; the man with the speeder goes to sit on a bench a few buildings down.

He's been watching, and his shaking is more pronounced. He flinches a little away from her when she comes back, but keeps watching the man, worried he's going to do something, even if he is a way from him.

"M'sorry?" he says.

"It's all right, you haven't done anything wrong, and he's not going to hurt you."

He nods a little hesitantly, and a little disbelievingly, and can't quite stop watching the man.

Slowly though, the flames ebb back to being flickers over the back of one hand, rather than obvious tongues licking up both arms.

She's gone back to her book by then, but nudges his back over when she notices.

He carefully scoops it back into his lap with a quiet murmur of: "Thank you, ma'am."

Time passes; it gets chillier, but they aren't disturbed. After a couple hours, she makes him a few more sandwiches, and one for herself.

And an hour after that, a subtle sense of doom descends on them, followed by a speeder driven by a black-cloaked figure turning onto the street.

He's (almost pathetically) grateful for the sandwiches, and they don't hang around much longer than the first three.

He starts shivering more with the subtle sense of doom, pushing the book away again. He watches the new speeder, chewing on his lip, trying very hard to stop the flames from winding up his arms again. (He manages, for now, to stop them at his wrists.)

The speeder stops in front of the library; the driver takes a small box from the center console and clips it to her belt before approaching. "Marisel;" she nods a greeting, and gets one in return. "And what's your name?"

He's hunched down as she approaches, and flinches when he's addressed, fire lunges up over his wrists in time with his surge in anxiety. It takes him a moment to scramble for something that might be an acceptable answer. "I- Nova, ma'am? If you. Like?"

"Nova. All right." She motions for Marisel to come down the steps and away from him, and waits for her to do so before continuing. "Can you control that fire, Nova?"

He nods desperately. "Yes, ma'am," he says desperately. (It's true sometimes.) "I promise, I can." (The flames on his hands don't seem to be listening to his promise.)

Calm isn't exactly the first word that would come to mind, looking at the cloaked woman's body language. Steady, maybe. Assured. And she keeps that same steadiness and lack of hostility as she says "all right; show me."

He tries, he really does, and it's visible that he is, but it doesn't do much good. He definitely isn't calm, barely managing to not shake, and very tense, breathing too rapid, and the more he can't stop it, the more panicked he looks.

She gives him a few seconds, and then she nods, and the fire gutters and goes out entirely. "No, you can't. Okay."

He flinches, and curls in on himself. "m'sorry, m'sorry, m'sorry," he mumbles, very aware he failed, barely aware of the fire going out.

"Nova." She's stern but not harsh, interrupting his panic.

His mouth snaps shut, and he goes as still as he can (still trembling), and looks at her knees, waiting.

(She doesn't sigh. She dearly wants to, but she has a reputation to keep; it's important.)

"D'you have a master we need to keep an eye out for, or have you shaken yourself loose already?"

He shrugs, not entirely sure - he tried to get as far away from where they'd look as possible, but that doesn't mean anything. Not like he's even the most valuable slave for them to look for.

"Tried to get loose," he says. "Don't think valuable enough to look for?"

...yeah, anyone who was treating him that badly isn't going to follow him far. "All right. Let's go, then; on the speeder."

He looks a little reluctant (he doesn't know what this woman wants), but he obeys immediately. This is not a person you want to irritate. He continues trying to keep everyone on the street in his field of vision.

She gets on behind him - she's warm, at his back; it could just be how chilled he is, but it seems like she's warmer than people usually are, and being close to her warms him more than it usually would - and off they go.

He's tense, but the warmth is good, it's been a while since he's been this warm. He doesn't, really, pay that much attention to where they're going - he doesn't need to know, and keeping his head down helps with the weird off-balance feeling from riding on the speeder.

A few minutes after they leave town, the sense of doom dissipates, and the warmth envelops him. "It's a few hours' ride; are you going to be all right like this?" she asks after another minute.

He's confused by the sense of doom vanishing, but the warmth is good.

"I- yes ma'am?" he agrees. (He doesn't feel like he's about the be on fire, which is...strange, now he thinks about it, but it means he doesn't have to worry about it flaring while they're on the speeder.)

"Good."

She drives on, through the quiet peaceful darkness.

The warmth and dark combined with bone-deep exhaustion lull Nova into a slightly uneasy sleep.

That seems like a good way to use the travel time; she lets him sleep until they reach the house, and then taps him gently on the shoulder.

He jerks awake. "M'sorry," he says as he flinches sideways enough that he overbalances and starts to tumble off the speeder he'd managed to forget he was on.

He doesn't get far; it feels like there's some kind of cushion preventing him from falling, suddenly, until he has his balance again.

He hunches down on himself, confused by the lack of falling, and looks back, on edge, not sure what happens now. "M'sorry?" he repeats. "Didn't mean to sleep."

"It's fine. Let's get you to bed; we can talk about what comes next in the morning."

"Yes, ma'am," he agrees, carefully climbing off the speeder. He looks around, hoping there's somewhere obvious she's expecting him to sleep, or that she'll give him some direction.

She heads into the house. The room on the other side of the door is dominated by a huge square worktable, with a galley kitchen set into one wall, bins full of machine parts set against and hanging from another, and a wooden cabinet and narrow bed against the back one, along with a door that presumably leads farther into the house. Draped cloths in bright jewel tones hang from the walls wherever there's a bit of free space, and a silver protocol droid decorated with shiny flowers in a rainbow of colors sits on one of the benches surrounding the table. "You'll be there, for now," the woman gestures at the bed.

He follows unsurely, and looks around as carefully and unobviously as he can, arms wrapped around himself. The droid catches his attention, but he doesn't look at her directly. (If the woman has a droid, why does she need-? Unless..?) He doesn't let himself think any further on that.

He blinks at the bed, and sneaks a look at the woman. "I- it's- too mu-" he cuts himself off (you didn't argue). "Yes, ma'am."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no ma'am. S'fine. M'sorry. Please."

He flinches back from her, and his back hits the doorframe.

Sigh. "I'm not going to hurt you. If something's the matter, I want to know, so I can fix it before it's a problem."

He looks sideways. "...s'too much?" he manages.

"Ah. No it's not, your master was just an asshole. Go ahead."

He's still unsure, but he's still exhausted, and it's probably better not to upset her. He skirts the room to the bed, staying small and trying for inconspicuous. Before he climbs in, he darts another look at the woman. (Is he hers now? He doesn't know. He guesses so.)

She stops paying attention to him entirely when he heads for the bed, or at least seems to; when he looks her way again she's in the middle of hanging up her cloak, and then she and the droid retire to the back room, leaving this one in darkness.

He curls up on the bed. It takes him a little while to fall asleep, but once he does, he's exhausted enough that he'll sleep through until something disturbs him.

An hour or so before sunrise, the droid comes out to work in the kitchen. She leaves the light off, and she's careful to be quiet, but if he's a light sleeper it might not be enough.

He unfortunately is a light sleeper, and jerks awake.

He scrambles out of the bed, he's overslept, he's in trouble, there's things he's supposed to have done, and he's in so much trouble.

In the dark, and in his haste, he trips over the edge of one of the benches beside the table. He doesn't bother getting back to his feet.

"M'sorry," he says desperately to the droid. "Didn't mean to sleep so long. M'sorry."

She spins to face him - "what?" - and steps forward to try to help him up.

The woman from last night comes in as the droid reaches for him, and turns on the light. "What happened?"

He flinches away from the droid, and flinches again when the woman comes out and switches the light on, cowering into the floor, covering his head with his arms. "M'sorry, I overslept, I didn't mean to. 'll-" he doesn't even know what he's supposed to be doing here. "m'sorrym'sorry."

The droid stops short of touching him, gives the woman an inscrutable look, and backs away. The woman takes her place, and with much less hesitance scoops him up and sits on the bed with him in her lap.

He flinches again when he's scooped up, but doesn't try to escape. He's shaking in her lap.

His eyes flicker to her lips, and he sways slightly towards her, before pulling back slightly. (He doesn't want this, but it'll...be something, and it's useful.) He starts to lean towards her again.

The cushiony feeling that stops him from moving comes back, stopping him from getting any closer. "- no, not that either." She sounds bewildered, and a little distant. "Daisy, what happened?"

"I woke him up, I suppose, and he panicked and fell; he said something about oversleeping." She signs along as she talks.

"All right," she nods, and turns her attention back to him. "You didn't oversleep; Daisy was just making me dinner."

His trembling intensifies when she stops him, and he seems at least as bewildered as her (but it's combined with overwhelming relief).

He's silent as they talk, but starts tracking the droid's hands when she signs. He curls a little tighter when the woman turns her attention on him again.

"...oh," he says quietly, and then seems to run out of anything else to say.

She nods to the droid, who goes back to the kitchen, and then settles Nova on the bed next to her. "We're really not going to hurt you, okay? And I don't know what that was about, but not that, either."

He nods, but he still doesn't believe that, not really, it doesn't even sound real to him. "I- useful," he says, it's about the only explanation he has. "gotta. earn keep."

"You can talk with Daisy about how you want to split the chores, then. But you don't have to do any at all, and we still won't hurt you."

He seems to perk up a little bit at the idea of there being something he can do. "I- yes ma'am," he nods, although he still doesn't seem to entirely believe what she says is true (but it doesn't seem to be a lack of faith in her, just an inability to expect anything other having chores to do, and being hurt). "Thank you."

"Mmhm. Are you hungry?"

He shakes his head slightly. "I- the librarian? She. Gave me food." (It was a while ago, but he's gone longer without.)

"Okay. Daisy's probably already put something on for you, since you're up -"

    "-mmhmm-"

"-but we can set it aside until you're ready for it."

He...hadn't been expecting...

"If it's- already. Made. could eat? If-if that's alright?"

"Mmhmm. It shouldn't be much longer, anyway, it's just sandwiches." She switches over to sitting on the bench he tripped over a few minutes ago.

He stays still on the bed for now, not sure if he's supposed to be following her or what.

That's fine, apparently.

"So, it's looking like you're going to be around a while; is there anything we should know about you?"

He pulls his knees up to his chest, and wraps his arms around them - she already saw this, it's not really anything new, but he doesn't know what else she might mean. "I- You saw?" he says quietly. "Sometimes I- flames? And- I try, but I can't always. Stop them."

"Mmhmm. I'm going to be keeping you here until you figure out how to get that under control, I think - if you really don't want to stay, I can try to find someone else to work with you, but it'll be tricky. Anyway, I can stop it for you as long as I'm close enough; Daisy'll be putting up some markers later so you'll know how far from the house you can go without having to worry about it."

He's startled enough that he nearly looks directly at her. "You can-" he starts, and then: "thankyouthankyouthankyou." (He didn't like worrying about setting things on fire all the time, and if was one less way to mess up...)

"It's no problem."

He ducks his head again, more comfortable not looking directly at her. He tries to think of anything else they might need to know, but is, for the moment, coming up blank. So he just stays quiet.

She leaves him be, for the minute or so until Daisy comes over with two plates of egg salad sandwiches and french fries, and then she takes the one with the smaller portion and leaves the other for the droid to offer to him.

He hasn't looked up far enough to notice any difference in portion size, but he's still cautious as he takes the plate off Daisy. He darts a look to the woman he still hasn't been introduced to and then looks up enough that Daisy will be able to see his lips before mouthing 'thank you' clearly. (Some people didn't like you thanking the droids, but he'd never understood why not, they worked harder than anyone.)

"You're welcome."

(Dusk smiles, at that, not that he'll be able to see it.)

"You can come to the table, if that'll be more comfortable," she points out, before he can get started.

He pauses as he's about to start and then slides off the bed, and sidles over to perch himself on one of the benches. He glances slightly between the two portions and freezes when he realises his is the larger. That- isn't right? "I-" he starts, looking up at the woman's throat. He gestures a little helplessly at his plate.

"Go ahead. You've got some catching up to do."

It takes him another moment to start eating. He curls one arm around the plate to stop it being taken away, and hunches over it. He eats quickly, and it's pretty clear no-one's ever bothered to teach him table manners. He gets through most of the fries, and half of sandwiches before he can't eat any more.

He pulls back from the plate, wrapping his arms around himself and darting looks to the woman.

She's got a few fries left on her plate, her mouth full as she carries on a signed conversation with the droid, who's joined them at the table. She doesn't seem to be paying attention to him at all until the droid directs her attention his way. "All done?"

He gives a quick nod. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry, I-" he makes a tiny gesture at the leftover food.

"It's fine. They'll keep for a while; when you're hungry again you can finish them up." She takes the plate and passes it over to the droid, who brings it over to the fridge. "You ready to go back to bed?"

He hesitates (he's still very tired). "I- If there's-nothing else you want me to do?" he agrees.

"Nope. Daisy has some chores to do outside, and you might hear her coming and going for that, but right now I want you resting."

He seems a little confused, and a little on edge from that, but he nods. "Yes, ma'am." (He supposes it...make sense, to have him well rested before putting him to work.)

He makes his way back to the bed, perching on the side of it, but not lying down quite yet.

"I don't usually get up until noon, so if you wake up again and the sun's up but we aren't, don't panic. You can finish up the sandwiches if you want, and there's milk and fruit in the fridge you can have, too; you can go outside, but stay by the door, the fire suppression doesn't go very far yet. All right?"

"Yes, ma'am," he agrees with a nod.

He hesitates before curling up on the bed. He doesn't close his eyes yet, but he's not really watching anyone.

The plate clatters quietly in the sink, and a moment later the light goes out again. The front door opens and closes quietly as the droid leaves for her chores.

He'd meant to offer to help Daisy, but she's gone before he can.

He drifts off while he's waiting for her to come back.

She's in and out a few times, quiet as she can be.

He wakes at least some when she does, but never panicking the way he did the first time.

"I- D-Daisy?" he says very quietly on one of the occasions. "Did you- I can. Help? If you-want?"

"No, but thank you." She comes over to sit by the bed, setting a basket of eggs on the bench beside her. "I'm almost done. I'll take you out to see the barn and the garden later, if you'd like."

"I- please?" he asks, nodding almost eagerly. "I- I can help? With- those chores? I've- I've done that kind of work?"

"All right." She pauses, then continues: "you know that's not why you're here, right?"

He blinks at her a couple of times, and then shrugs. "I- what else?"

"You can't control the fire you make, right? Pradnakt will show you how, and you'll stay and practice until you can. I don't know what she'll want to do after that, whether she'll let you stay or find someplace else for you, but that's the main thing."

"...I- I. I try." But it's hard, and it doesn't listen, and then people get mad. "She can...teach me how to?" He sounds hopeful.

"Mmhmm. It's okay that you don't already know; it's hard to figure out Force things on your own, and it seems like you haven't been in a very good place for it."

"But...how do I pay her back for that?" It sounds like it'll take time, and effort, and other things people don't put into him.

"You don't have to. She doesn't want you to accidentally burn down her town, or any other towns; if she helps you learn how to control your fire, she gets that. It helps you, too, but that's not why she's doing it."

"Oh." It...still doesn't feel right, for there not to be a price, but... "Can I. Help anyway?" he asks. (He'll feel better if he has something to do.)

"Mmhmm. She means it when she says you don't have to - if you want to test that sometime, you can, just leave something undone and if she cares about it she'll take care of it herself - but we understand about needing to have something to do."

"Thank you," he says earnestly. Then, realising he's distracted her more than he intended: "Oh. I- I'm holding you up. M'sorry?"

"It's fine, I'm not in a hurry. Did you have any other questions?"

He starts to shake his head after a moment, then stops. "I- you're. Treated okay?" (She's not acting like the droids he'd known before, but he can't quite figure out why.)

She scoots back on the bench, making room to sit with her legs crossed in front of her, and leans forward to compensate. "Yeah, I am. Pradnakt doesn't put up with people being mistreated very easily; not even droids."

He blinks. Because everything he knows tells him that no-one thinks that droids (or him) are something that can be mistreated (how do you mistreat a tool?). "I-oh." His confusion at that is very obvious. "I- that's. Good?"

"Yeah." She sounds unmistakably fond. "She's -" it takes the droid a moment to work out what she wants to say. "I don't want to make promises about how she's going to treat you; when she's good to someone it's because she likes them, usually. But she wouldn't have brought you here if she expected it to make you miserable; that'd make her miserable, too."

He nods a little. "I- it's- She's already- no-one's- before." (Treated him this well, that is.)

"Yeah, she's pretty unhappy about that."

He flinches and curls in on himself. "M'sorry," he mumbles (he doesn't even need to try to do something wrong).

"She's not unhappy at you. She doesn't like being reminded that people are that cruel, but you haven't done anything wrong."

"But m'reminding her?"

"I don't think you can help it, and I don't think she'd want you to try, really. She doesn't like that she can't fix it, that people are cruel like that, but there are things about it that she can fix for you, and I think she'll want to."

"I- oh." He doesn't know how to respond to that, so he doesn't, just falls silent and curls further in on himself.

"Would you like a hug?"

He stares at her. "...hug?" he sounds completely confused.

She transfers over to the bed, moving slowly and carefully so as not to alarm him, and puts her arms around him. "Like this."

(It's a little uncomfortable; the flowers she's decorated with aren't sharp, but they're hard, and he doesn't have any padding where they poke at him.)

He watches her warily, flinches a little when she puts her arms around him, and then goes still, tense. The discomfort of the flowers barely registers (he's had so much worse).

It's...strange. He's not sure it's...bad. Just. Strange. He leans a tiny bit into Daisy.

She gives him a gentle squeeze, and then just holds him.

"Feel better?" she asks after a few minutes.

He is a little surprised by the question, and it takes him a moment to figure out the answer. (And even then, it isn't very sure.) "I...think so? Thank you?"

"You're welcome." She unhugs and sits back upright. "It's okay if you're a little confused, if this is all new. I had a hard time, too, starting out."

He nods some, not entirely believing that it's okay, but willing to accept that for now. He goes to say something else, but is cut off by a yawn.

"I'll let you get back to sleep." She pats him on the shoulder, puts the eggs away in the fridge, and returns to the back room.

And Nova goes back to sleep. He sleeps for long enough to take him nearly to noon, and when he wakes up, he sits on the edge of the bed, and waits.

He only has to wait a few minutes, and then Daisy comes out again. "Good morning."

He startles a little, and jumps to his feet. "G'morning," he greets.

"It's just me, you can relax."

That does in fact, make him relax somewhat. "Hi," he says, realises he's already greeted her, and isn't entirely sure what to do next.

"Is there anything you like for breakfast?"

He shrugs a little. "I- whatever's easiest for you?"

"I don't mind going to a little trouble."

"I-" he hesitates and then shrugs again. "What- am I allowed?"

"Anything we have - we don't usually have meat around, but most other things. I usually make eggs for breakfast, and pancakes or potatoes, or sometimes oatmeal or muffins."

"I- oatmeal is fine."

"All right. How do you like your eggs?"

Nova stares at her. "I- what?"

"I can do oatmeal as a full meal, if you don't like eggs or something. But - they weren't feeding you very well, before; it's not good for you to be that thin. And oatmeal doesn't help with that as much as we want, by itself."

He's silent for a moment trying to wrap his head around that. "You- won't get in trouble...for-?"

She shakes her head. "There's not much I would get in trouble for; Pradnakt's not that kind of master."

He presses his lips together. Takes a deep breath. "I- sc-scrambled?" (He'd had scrambled eggs, once.)

"All right." She gets to work - the oatmeal goes on first, with a dollop of almond butter to fortify it, and then she gets started with the eggs, scrambling them in butter with a bit of cheese. When she has a spare minute, she sets a little carafe of fruit syrup and a glass of milk on the table, followed not too much later by the rest of the meal. "There you go," she tells him, and then gets to work on another portion of eggs.

"Thank you," he says. He ignores the carafe of fruit syrup (more because he's not entirely sure what it is than anything else), but the oatmeal and eggs are attacked with gusto. (And both get half-involuntary sounds of delight at just how good they taste.)

"You're welcome."

She brings the rest of the food to the back on a tray, and then comes back out to sit with him, far enough away that she can't plausibly take his food.

She still gets a briefly wary look, before Nova decides she isn't going to take his food, and focuses on finishing his meal. "Thank you," he says again when he's finished.

"It's no trouble. Pradnakt says she wants you to rest and relax for a few days; it'll be easier to learn what she's going to teach you if you're comfortable. Okay?"

"I- okay?" he agrees, a little unsurely. "But- how?"

"Well, are there things you like to do?"

He looks briefly confused. "I- things I like?" He pauses, and then lists a few things - all of them chores and not things anyone would consider a hobby - his list does, however, include looking after livestock.

...okay. Well.

"When Pradnakt is taking a break, she usually likes reading, or drawing, or listening to music; do any of those sound good to you?"

He seems to brighten at the suggestion of reading, but then sort of closes down on himself again. "I- is music the..." he frowns. "Pretty sounds?" (It's the closest he can manage.) He does not appear to have any sort of response to the idea of drawing at all.

"Yeah, it is. We don't have very much, but I expect I'll be going into town in a few days, I can get some more. Do you want something to read?"

"I- no point?" (He's at least a little bit bewildered that she seems to think there's any point to giving him something to read, of course he can't read, who taught someone like him to read?)

"I can have the datapad read to you, if you don't know how."

"That...won't be. Irritating?"

"No, it's fine. We might have some headphones someplace if you want to really be sure, but if it's just as loud as I'm talking now it won't be a problem at all."

"I- if you're. Sure? That would be. Good? I think?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Wait here, I'll go get it."

"I- yes," he nods, eyeing the dishes in front of him. If Daisy isn't back immediately, he'll figure out what to do with leftovers and clean the dishes.

She's gone for a while, actually.

(The sink is straightforward; there's a small bin next to it with the scraps from the vegetables that went into Pradnakt's eggs inside.)

Then he'll scrape the remains of the food into the bin, clean and dry his dishes, and be back sitting at the table before Daisy comes back.

She pauses, when she notices, deciding how to react to that, and then apparently decides to let it go. Instead she walks him through the basics of using the datapad - turning it on and off, loading and unloading discs, skipping forward and back in a story, pausing it so it'll keep his place, adjusting the volume. "These are all short story collections," she says of the discs. "It'll read the titles to you when you put a disc in, and I'll make some paper sleeves for them that you can draw on to remind you which one is which. And if you tell me which ones you like and what you like about them, I can get more like that when I go to town. Okay?"

He's attentive as she explains things, and reverent when he touches the datapad or the discs.

He nods, a little hesitantly, looks sideways. "...you're sure this is...okay? All I need to...do?"

"Mmhmm. If you want to do something else, let me know, and I'll see if we can, but for now you don't need to do anything."

"I- o-okay."

He's still not entirely comfortable doing this. But... But the lure of this is... (He's always been bad for wanting things he's not allowed.)

He curls up on the bench, leaning against the table a little, and chooses one of the discs to listen to.

That one is full of adventure stories, set in a world with powers that work a little differently than the Force, though still with groups that are clearly meant to mirror the Sith and Jedi; a Sith-equivalent villain features in the first one on the disc.

(Daisy sits at the table, making little paper jackets for all the discs. She's done well before he first story is, and switches to writing something.)

Nova is apparently enthralled enough that he's paying surprisingly little attention to what Daisy is doing. Instead, he is staring intently at the datapad, and smiling slightly as he listens. (He's also enthralled enough that the passage of time doesn't seem to be something he's noticing.)

After a couple hours, she goes and pours a bowl of sunflower seeds.

Her moving does make him flinch and look up with wide eyes, which turn curious as he watches what she's doing.

She brings them over. "Have you had these before?"

He pauses the story, and licks his lips. Then he nods. "Could sneak them sometimes during planting," he admits quietly, flinching a tiny bit and looking around like Pradnakt might appear to punish him for that.

"That's good, that you did that. Taking care of yourself is important."

He looks up at her, disbelief warring with something that might be hope that someone doesn't think that was bad. "Didn't want to steal." (It's important she knows he's not a thief.)

Nod. "But it's different when you're a slave - they were stealing from you, you were just taking a little of what should have been yours back."

He blinks at her, "I- I...was? How? It was- You- I didn't have anything? Wasn't supposed to?"

"They told you that, because they didn't want to let you have anything and didn't want you to do anything about it, but it's not true. When you work, you should get to keep what you make, or you should be paid for it." She's not angry, not even bitter, but she's very firm.

"I-" he starts, clearly going to argue, and then just...can't think of an argument beyond 'that's just how it is'. He's pretty sure Daisy will be able to out-argue him, even if he doesn't understand why she thinks that way. "O-okay," he agrees instead.

Nod. "And you aren't a slave here; we aren't going to try to do that. It's part of why we aren't expecting you to do any chores around the house. It's already not really okay that we aren't letting you leave; if we're going to keep you here, we're responsible for making sure you're okay while you are."

He stares, and although he barely hears anything after the first part. "Not a-? I- If- if m'not, then-then what?"

"Just a person, like anybody else."

"I-" he shakes his head, half-denial, half-helpless. "Nonono. I. M-not. Can't be?" He wraps his hands over his head and rocks. (He sounds more lost and helpless than actually panicked.)

She steps around and crouches to hug him again, leaving the bowl on the table. "It's okay that it's hard. But that doesn't mean that it's not true."

He, again, goes tense when she hugs him, but leans into her, shaking. "M'sorry."

"It's okay. You don't need to be sorry, you're doing fine."

He wants to apologise again, but she just told him not to (that he didn't have to?). Instead, he just stays leaning against her until the shaking subsides. (It is, he thinks, nice to not have to worry about the flames, although he misses them a little.)

She holds him through it, and when he's done, she gives him another little squeeze. "That was really bad, I can tell. But we don't want any more bad things to happen to you, and we're pretty good at getting what we want, okay? You're not going to be a slave any more, we'll make sure of it."

He nods, a little mechanically, into her shoulder. "O-Okay," he agrees, still a little more because agreement is the path of least resistance than any belief in the words.

"Okay." She lets go and waits for him to pull away.

He stays leant against her for a minute or so before hesitantly starting to pull back. (Daisy must have other things to do.)

"I'm not in a hurry."

He pauses for a moment, and then keeps pulling away. (A little bit to see if he's allowed to pull away.)

She stands, and moves the bowl of seeds closer to him. "Anyway, these are for you; when you're done with them, just put them aside, you don't have to eat them all now."

He nods, and, a little hesitantly, takes a few to eat. He looks between Daisy and the datapad, and sneaks his hand towards it, intending to restart the story.

"Go ahead. I'm going to go talk to Pradnakt." Her Sith is going to want some reassurance, and to know what that round of upsetness was about.

He nods, and finishes the motion to restart the story. After another quick look at Daisy, he takes a handful of the seeds, leaving the bowl where it is, and tucking the hand into his lap where it is mostly hidden. He's quickly enthralled in the story again.

She knocks once on the door and waits a second before going through it.

Her Sith is waiting anxiously on the other side.

    I'm okay, Love.

I know. I just want - She reaches for her hand, catches herself, lets her hand drop.

    I know. It's fine, though, really. You're right, you can't help him if he's just terrified.

I could try.

    Dusk.

I could.

    He's barely putting up with me. I know you saw.

She pouts.

    And we are making progress. I told him he's not going to be a slave any more, that's what set him off.

Oh.

    Yeah. She takes her hand.

That's... yeah.

    He needs some time.

...yeah.

    I'll be okay. He's not a Sith, he's just a kid.

Okay.

    Okay. Come on, come read me a poem.

Nova meanwhile, continues to listen to (and enjoy) the disc. He eats a couple of handfuls of the seeds, but stops after that. If the disc finishes before Daisy comes back, he'll...wait, for a few moments, and then hesitantly change the discs.

She's not gone that long; after about half an hour she comes back out and sets her list aside in favor of some calligraphy.

Nova is mostly engrossed in the story, but he tracks her movements when she comes back in.

The calligraphy catches his attention, but he does a fairly good job of hiding that he's watching her while listening to the story.

She notices him watching, but she's not going to interrupt him for it.

The disc comes to an end while she's still inscribing.

He doesn't immediately move to change the disc. He's feels wrong not doing something, just sitting here. He looks around the room again, as if some chore will have magically appeared that he can do.

"Are you all right?"

"I-" he twists his fingers together. "Y'sure there's nothing I should be doing?" He doesn't seem comfortable asking, but he thinks it's probably the lesser of two evils.

"I'm sure. Do you want something to do?"

He hesitates for a moment and then nods. "Please?" he asks hopefully (and a little desperately).

"All right. It's about time to go get things for lunch anyway, let me see if Pradnakt wants anything in particular." She goes to do that.

He relaxes slightly when she speaks. Good. He can help. He'll wait, almost eagerly, for her to return and tell him what she needs him to do.

It only takes a minute. "She doesn't care; do you want anything?"

He shakes his head. "Anything's fine," he says.

"All right. Let's see - I'll do bean boats for dinner and you can have the extra potatoes for lunch. I'll dig the potatoes and you can harvest the beans, okay?"

"I- I can do the potatoes?" he offers. "I know how?"

"You're supposed to be resting," she reminds him, mostly gently.

"I- but-" he bites at his lip, wants to argue more, wants to show that he can pull his weight, that he doesn't need the rest. But. "O-okay," he agrees, a little reluctantly.

"I'm not sure you realize; you look like you could have died, getting here. If you try to do too much, you'll hurt yourself, and we don't want that."

He twitches a little at that, shivers. He hadn't felt much worse than he ever had, and no-one had ever...(cared).

He nods a little. (It still doesn't sit quite right, but if that's what Daisy wants...)

"All right." She gets a large basket and a smaller one out of the upper cabinets, and passes the smaller one to him. "Let's go, then."

The sun is low in the sky, but it's still warm outside. She leads the way around to the back of the building, where the garden sits partially shaded by the house, between it and the barn. She shows him to the beans, past herbs and tomatoes and zucchini. "I'll need the basket just about full; it doesn't matter what kinds of beans you pick, they'll all work."

He nods, and sets to work. He definitely knows what he's doing here, and is efficient at it. (And he definitely relaxes at having a set task to do.)

She digs up the potatoes she needs from the far side of the garden, and then comes back around to get a couple of tomatoes and check on him.

He's very close to finished, basket almost full. He flinches slightly when she comes closer. "I- nearly done," he says.

She takes a step back when he flinches. "It's fine, I'm not done yet either, I just wanted to see if you were doing all right."

"I- oh. Um. Yes? M'fine?" He sounds a little unsure of that answer - in the way of someone not used to being asked that question at all.

"Okay, good. If you need something to drink, the spigot is over there -" she points at the back of the house, where it's visible next to a shallow shed that presumably holds supplies for the garden. "I'll bring out a cup for it when I do my chores tonight. And if you get too hot, you can just go in, you don't need to ask."

He nods slowly, a little unsure.

He looks between the basket and the spigot, sets down the basket and sidles over to the spigot. (He is thirsty.)

(Oops.)

She picks her tomatoes and moves on to the herb section of the garden.

He takes a quick drink - enough that he's no longer parched - and quickly returns to finish picking the beans. It doesn't take him long.

She waits until he's clearly done to approach again. "Ready to go back in?"

He nods, holding the basket out to her as proof. "M'done," he confirms.

She hooks the larger basket over her arm and takes the smaller one. "Looks good." She pauses for a second to consider: "you're faster at that than I am."

He blinks, and then his skin darkens slightly, even as he half shakes his head. (She's just saying that, but why she would doesn't make any sense.) "I- As you say?" he says after a moment.

"You are. And it's fine to be proud of something like that."

He ducks his head, still a little unsure. "O-okay?" he agrees (with, just maybe, a tiny hint of pride in his voice).

She ducks her head in what he may or may not recognize as a grin; it's clearer in her voice. "Good. Come on, let's go in."

A full pitcher and a full glass of water are sitting on the table where Nova was sitting at it earlier.

He blinks at the glass and pitcher, looks around - almost expecting to see Pradnakt somewhere - and then looks to Daisy for further instructions.

"...ah... go ahead, I'll be a minute." She drops the baskets off on the counter and heads into the back.

...go ahead and what? He blinks again. Did she mean go ahead and drink? He bites on his lip, he is still thirsty.

After a small fight with himself, he takes the glass and gulps it down.

She's back in just a few minutes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize how thirsty you were getting. Are you feeling better?"

"I- you told me where the spigot was?" he points out, very confused about the apology. "I- yes. M'fine?"

"You weren't fine. Pradnakt can tell, if you're hurt or if something's wrong with you, and we scared her."

He flinches and curls down on himself. "I- didn't mean to?" (He doesn't get how Pradnakt can tell, and doesn't understand why she cares, but he doesn't want to upset her.) "I- you still. Wasn't your fault?" He's looking closer at Daisy, searching for something - damage maybe?

"It's fine, Nova. I'm fine, she didn't hurt me, she's not going to. She's not going to hurt you, either; she wants you to be okay, and that wouldn't help." She keeps her tone calm, soothing.

He looks at Daisy for a moment longer, before at the very least accepting that she isn't hurt. Then he sort of nods, and does something that is not-quite-straightening. (He's not as curled over, but he's still making himself smaller.)

"O-Okay," he agrees.

"Come on." She leads him over to the table, sits next to him, and pours him another glass of water. "What are you afraid is going to happen?"

It takes him a minute to take the glass, and he shrugs a little. "I- just. Something? 'Ll mess up. Always do? Upset people."

And that really is as clear a thought as he has. He knows something will happen, it has to (he's not that good at not messing up), and he won't like it.

"And you think you'll be hurt if someone gets upset with you. Because that's what you're used to." She pauses again, and puts her arm around his shoulders. "That's why we're out here, in a way, is that we didn't like it that that happens, and we wanted something different."

He leans a little into the contact. It doesn't make sense to him, not really, but... "Okay," he agrees (it's easier).

"Do you want me to tell you about it? I think it'd help you understand some things, about how things are here."

He shrugs, shakes his head. "I-" shrugs again. "Whatever you think best?" he says quietly.

She nods. "Okay. So, a long time ago, Pradnakt had a master. She wasn't a slave; he was supposed to help her learn things and keep her safe, and she was supposed to help him with his work, and do her own work, and her own playing, too. And they did, and they were happy, for a while. And then - we don't know why - he decided to kill her. He didn't do a very good job, and she lived, but she knew he would keep trying until he did kill her, and she didn't want that, so she killed him instead."

"But then she had a problem. The way he hurt her when he tried to kill her made it hard for her to understand things, and made it so that when she got upset, or was surprised, she would hurt people without meaning to. And she didn't understand that she had that problem, because she was having trouble understanding a lot of things, so a lot of people were hurt, and she wasn't very happy at all. But time passed, and she healed from what he had done to her, and one day she realized that she had that problem, and she didn't want that. So she came here, and I came with her, and we found a place to live where there weren't any other people around who might upset her or surprise her, and she started to work on not having that problem any more."

He winces a little curling around the glass he's trying not to clench his fingers around. "But I- I upset her?"

(He seems to be ignoring the fact that that didn't end with him hurt.)

"She's upset about what happened to you, that's different from being upset at you." She gives him a reassuring squeeze. "But, yes, that would have been bad, before. It's not bad now, because she did decide that she didn't want to hurt people just for upsetting her, and she worked very hard on it, and now she doesn't have that problem any more - she doesn't hurt people when she doesn't want to, and mostly she doesn't want to hurt people at all."

"...oh." He sounds more lost than anything else. Like that doesn't make sense. And yet he does seem a little bit reassured by that (at least if he's hurt it won't just be at random).

She gives him another squeeze. "What part is confusing you?"

He's not entirely sure how to explain. He just knows that things like that don't apply to him (not normally). "It's...I don't. Doesn't... not for me?"

"Hm."

"Maybe I could explain it better if I knew what things were like for you before. But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I know it might be hard. She does think it's for you, though - if your master comes to look for you, she'll kill them, that's the kind of person she chooses to hurt."

He shakes his head immediately. (No-one needs to know what happened.) By the time Daisy finishes speaking, he looks even more confused.

"But why?" he asks. "I- they didn't do- anything?"

"Yeah, they did. If they hadn't you wouldn't be so afraid all the time." She sounds sad.

He rocks slightly, shuddering. "M'sorry," he says miserably. "I-" He doesn't understand, but he doesn't want to upset her more.

"You haven't done anything wrong. And we don't need to talk about this now if it's upsetting you, okay?" She gives him another squeeze. "Do you want to listen to some more stories?"

He relaxes a tiny bit when she says they don't have to talk about it.

He chews at his lip for a moment and then nods a little hesitantly. "If that's okay?"

"Yeah, of course." She picks a disc at random and changes it out for him, slipping the old one into one of the paper jackets. "There you go."

"Thank you," he murmurs, but hesitates before reaching out to start it.

"I'm going to go get started on the food; you can interrupt me if you need anything." And she goes to do that.

He thinks about offering to help her but...

But he'd never cooked, it wasn't one of the chores they set him to, not even preparation, he'd just be in the way. (He worries, a little, that he's just justifying being lazy.)

He reaches out to press play, curling his legs back up to his chest.

She starts the potatoes baking, and then stays at the kitchen to begin putting together the bean filling that will go in the scooped-out potato halves for dinner; it keeps her busy until the potatoes are done and she can mash the scooped-out parts with milk and butter and a little bit of leftover caramelized onions. Again, she brings a big portion to Nova, reserving a smaller one for Pradnakt.

He does look between the two portions. And then looks up at Daisy. He remembers this from yesterday, but...

"I. Don't need this much?" he suggests quietly.

"It's fine if there's some left over. And it's fine that you're getting more than Pradnakt - this is as much as she wants, and you need more than that, so she wants you to have more."

He twists his fingers together awkwardly, it still doesn't feel right. But...

He takes his portion, still a little cautious. "Thank you," he says quietly.

"You're welcome." She drops the other meal off with Pradnakt and stops by the kitchen to get him a glass of milk; she gets just close enough to put it in arms' reach of him.

She gets a slightly wary look, but he doesn't actually flinch. He eats as ravenously as he has previously, but still can't actually finish the portion.

"All done?"

He nods, and starts to move to clear up his leftovers and dishes.

She saw how he was about getting to pick the beans. She tags along to quietly point out where everything goes.

He seems content being allowed to do this, as close to relaxed as he's managed.

Good, good.

"Pradnakt needs to go out for a few hours," she tells him, as he's putting away the final dish. "Will you be okay being here when she comes through? We can go out back for a few minutes instead."

He goes tense again, but shrugs. "I- whatever's-" he shrugs. "'Ll be fine." (He's not sure he will be, if he can avoid Pradnakt he can hopefully avoid upsetting her.)

"Nova," she says, gently, calling for his attention. "If it scares you, it won't be okay. Come on, let's go."

He flinches slightly, wraps his arms around himself, but follows.

She takes him around back to the garden again, grabbing a cup before she goes; the sun is beginning to set in earnest now, and the air is beginning to cool and the entire garden is in the shadow of the house.

"Since we're out here, do you want to help me water the plants?"

He nods. "Please?"

"All right."

They have a spare watering can; she fills one half-full and the other all the way, and hands him the lighter one. "Tell me when you run out, and we can swap; I don't want you carrying more water than you have to."

He nods, fairly sure there's no real point in arguing. He'll set to work, definitely with some experience doing this.

She stays close, keeping an eye on him so that she can offer her half-empty watering can when his runs out - despite her instructions, she doesn't quite trust him not to go for the spigot himself.

It's not a large garden - a bit oversized for one person, but planted densely and efficiently - and the sun is still up when they finish. "I need to put the animals away; you can come with me, if you want, or go back in."

Well, she's definitely got at least some of his habits figured out, given that he does attempt to go for the spigot when his watering can is empty.

"I- I can help," he says quietly.

"Okay. Go get something to drink, first."

He hesitates for a second, before going and doing so. He's quick to gulp down a cup before hurrying back to Daisy.

And she leads him to the barn. It's small and simple: chicken coop on the left, with half a dozen hens already perched sleepily inside; hay-floored pen on the right suitable for a sheep or goat or pony; storage by the door holding bags of pelleted food; a wider doorway in the back wall leading out to a larger pen.

"I need to go back in the house for the goat's scraps; will you be okay here for a few minutes?"

He nods, looking around. He's always liked being around animals, he's never had to worry about how to act around them.

"The goat is out back; you can go back there, but don't go in the pen, she likes to butt."

He tries not to look too eager as he goes to look.

Yup, there's a goat back there. She trots over to see if he has anything to give her.

Well. He'd snuck a handful of the sunflower seeds earlier, he fishes them out and offers them to the goat.

She takes them politely, and then nudges him for more and/or scritches.

He offers her a few more (he still has some), and provides scritches with his other hand, smiling slightly.

Happy goat!

Happy-as-he-knows-how-to-be Nova!

Aww. Daisy leaves him be until the barn chores are all done and the goat needs to be brought in.

Nova blinks, flinches, realising he's been distracted, that he had meant to help. "M'sorry," he offers. "Should've...helped?"

"No, you should do what you want." She sounds pleased. "You were enjoying yourself, that's good."

He blinks again, opens his mouth to say something, and then just nods, a little confused.

He'll help get the goat back inside if there's anything he can do.

She's trained to voice commands, apparently; Daisy asks her nicely and she goes right in. 

He watches, a tiny smile on his lips, and ducks back into the barn himself.

The goat is already nosing at the scraps - looks like she got the leftover egg salad sandwiches, too - and Daisy gives her a pat. "You like animals, huh?"

He nods. "I- they're...easy?" he says. "Don't want much from you."

She nods. "That makes sense. I'll have to ask Pradnakt what she thinks of you spending time out here - it might be okay, if you stay in the shade. If you want to. Jasmine here definitely won't mind the company, though."

He gives a almost hopeful little smile. "'d like that," he admits quietly. "If-if it's okay?"

"I don't want you to get hurt; it's hot out here during the day, and I don't know if the shade will be enough for you. But if it's safe, yeah, of course."

He ducks his head, and kind of nods. "O-okay." (He's not used to people worrying about him like that.)

"I'll ask tonight. Do you want to do anything else before we go back in?"

He shakes his head.

"All right." She leads the way back, and gestures for him to go to the table while she goes to put away the dishes that have appeared in the drying rack.

He freezes when he spots the dishes. The only other person he's seen is Pradnakt, which means Pradnakt did those dishes. And-

And she shouldn't have. He should've-

His breath catches.

"Hey. It's all right." She takes his hand and leads him over to the table, dishes ignored for now. "Remember I said you could leave things undone, and she'd do them and not be upset about it? I meant that, it's how things work around here. We were busy, and she wasn't, and it's fine. Nothing bad happened and nothing bad is going to happen."

He curls down on himself, making a small, distressed sound as he tries to remember how to breathe.

"I- that. Never mattered?" he manages.

"Well, it matters here." She hugs him, quite tightly. "She doesn't mind; she's just a person, just like you're just a person and I'm just a person. She can do her own dishes once in a while, there's nothing wrong with that."

He shakes his head, but presses into Daisy more than trying to pull away. "I- nonono. Not. I- they. m'not. Gotta- be useful. gotta be."

- ah.

"She's not saying there's something wrong with you. We know you can wash dishes, okay? But being useful isn't the only thing that's important about you. Being happy and getting to do what you want are important, too."

He shakes his head into her shoulder, more helpless and disagreeing. "S'not. Nothing more important than-" he chokes slightly, not sure of what word he's supposed to use here. "What your master wants," he settles for eventually.

"She's not your master. But even if she was, she wants you to be happy and safe and able to do what you want, and she doesn't care who does the dishes, or if you're useful like that."

Nova shakes, rocks as much as he can in Daisy's embrace. It doesn't make sense, but he doesn't know how to explain this.

"I- have to have a master," he insists. "I-I-" It occurs now, that he shouldn't have run away in the first place. No matter what he thought might happen. "Shouldn't've-" he cuts off, trying to suppress a sob.

"No you don't. No you don't, it's okay, you'll be okay, you don't need them for anything. You'll be fine."

He's not quite sure when he started clinging to Daisy, but he is. He's trying not to sob, no idea how to even respond to that. "I- as-" He doesn't even know what he was going to say.

"It's okay, I've got you. You'll be all right," she soothes. "I know it's scary, but you can do it, and we'll help, okay?"

His shoulders hitch, and he lets himself sob, just once. He nods, too wrung out to do anything else.

"I know. It's hard, but it'll be worth it, you'll see. Come on, let's get you to bed, I bet you'll feel better if you lie down for a little while." She's already leading him to it as she speaks.

He follows pliantly enough, although he half shakes his head - although what that's about is unclear.

She stops, when he does. "No?"

He hesitates, shrugs, tries to work out the right answer. "Just. I- been. Doing...nothing?"

"You haven't, but it would be okay if you had. And it's good to rest when you're upset."

He hesitates, and then half-nods. (He's fairly sure Daisy wouldn't encourage him to do something he shouldn't do.)

She starts toward the bed again, and when they get there she pulls down the blanket for him.

He blinks a little at that, hesitates, and then, cautiously, lies down.

(Force, kid doesn't even know what a blanket is. Dusk is going to be livid.)

She tucks him in, gently. "Do you want the datapad, or just to rest?"