The sun rose to see another day on the moon also known as, Yavin 4, and so did the injured man in the medical ward's bed. He could feel his whole body aching. He felt as if he had just been torn up, shredded and consumed by the wilderness of the galaxy. He opened his dry mouth in an attempt to speak, instead came out a painful groan.
His free hand reached for his stomach which he clenched in horrendous pain. He couldn't remember what had happened. The last thing his memory had recollected was the almost ship crash as he was doing an emergency landing back at the Rebel base. He had been lucky to avoid one of those massive pyramids that the ancient Massassi had built on this moon.
"Ah, you have woken." A smooth voice said from somewhere in the room.
He found himself momentarily blinded by the bright light above; his eyes focused on a blurry figure before him. He suddenly felt a strange sensation. As a cold hand on his burning forehead. He couldn't help but initially flinch at the foreign touch, but somehow he managed to relax at the touch. He emitted harsh breath and his eyebrows knitted. Despite his pain, he could also feel that a fluid IV was attached to his arm, pumping much needed cool fluids and nutrients into his weak body.
"Rest." Despite the relaxed tone, the statement had almost sounded like a command to him.
"Rest" The voice repeated.
In defeat, won over by exhaustion he allowed his eyes drop once again. He couldn't help but wonder if this would be the last time they shut. He couldn't go like this. Had he given his entire life up for the rebellion just for it to end like this?
The hand briefly rested on his forehead once again, and a pair of long fingers slipped to tangle his knotted brown hair.
Lux, a female nurse, and doctor in training observed the Doctor, her mentor, carefully.
"Place him on some antipyretics," the Doctor began.
"I want him in intense observation, and I want his fluids carefully regulated. Don't want him to lose his strength." She held a deep breath and observed the features of the man before her.
He had long dark eyelashes, an unshaven face and dark shaggy hair which almost reached his shoulders.
It appeared as if he had dug his own grave. He wasn't well. She closed her eyes and sighed. At this point, it was best to trust that the Force would do what was right and just. She could feel it was strong with him. Part of her knew he would make it.
She adjusted her white lab coat before picking up the patient's clipboard and heading out.
"Let me know if he awakens, again," she tossed back to her younger apprentice.
There it was again- the blinding light. The one that seemed to burn past your eyelids and into the back of your brain. The Captain couldn't help but wonder if this was the afterlife? If it was, he certainly didn't feel at peace or any ease.
Mixed voices rang in his ears. The aching pain in his stomach, now more bearable served as a gruesome reminder of his current mortal status.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, this time with much more ease. He blinked away the blurriness and saw that before him stood two women and a man. One of the women was speaking. He didn't listen. He couldn't. The Captain found himself lost in a pair of azure violet eyes. He had never met a creature with such peculiar colored eyes. He noted that her mouth continued moving. He couldn't make out the words. She wore the formal attire that most medics in the Rebel Base wear, a white lab coat over her brown clothes. Her brown hair was styled short to her shoulders and was messily held up in a fat bun behind the nape of her neck. Her brown bands were nearly combed asymmetrically framing her eyes nicely.
At that moment he was struck.
Feeling extremely self-conscious, the hospitalized man ran a hand down his sharp jawline trailing his unshaven face. He couldn't bear removing his eyes from the intense violet ones before him.
He was so aghast that he didn't even realize when she was beginning to explain his perilous situation to him. The Doctor revealed that he had been poisoned on a mission and that thanks to the Force he had made it just in time for them to inject him with the antidote.
"...Do you understand the gravity of your situation?" Adair, the male apprentice, and nurse repeated tapping on a clipboard impatiently.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the small curtained room and the air filled with sudden tension. The Captain had a pair of bottomless, dark, eyes that seemed to peer into your soul.
"Captain Andor?" Lux inquired with a small voice. The Doctor kept her eyes fixed on his not faltering for one moment. Both of the nurses looked at the Doctor concerned. They couldn't help but wonder if the patient had maintained brain damage from the crash. Regardless she kept her eyes glued to his dark ones.
He didn't respond. Instead he removed his hand from his beard, eyes still focused.
It was hopeless. This had never happened to Cassian before. He had never had the use for friendships or any type relationship before. They were of no use to him. The closest thing he had o a friend was a droid named K-2SO, it wasn't even human. He was a Rebel. He had a vital cause to work for: freedom.
Whatever relationships he had had in the past had all been short-lived.
'Fuck it...' he thought to himself. He felt a stirring inside him something consume his consciousness.
"Go out with me." Were the first words he uttered to her. For a moment the had forgotten the aching pain that trembled in his stomach. And the pulsating headache that made him want to rip his head off. Adair looked away with wide eyes attempting to ignore the awkward tension in the room. Lux blushed vibrantly and brought a hand to her face to hide her growing smile. They both turned to face the Doctor once again who had recuperated from the surprise and kept her cool. The corner of her lips turned upwards into a charming smile and she shoved her hands into her deep pockets as she shook her head from side to side. 'Well, this is a first...' She thought.
"Captain Andor-" she spoke carefully in an attempt to correct the situation.
"Cassian." He corrected her, and she noted he had a thick accent which belonged to a distant land.
"As flattered as I am, you don't even know my name." She said still wearing that small smile.
He kept his eyes alert and read the tag on her white coat.
"Dr. Stryker," he said slowly. "Go out with me." He repeated determined.
She observed him cautiously for a moment. Maybe he did have brain damage.
"No," she said with a smile before walking away, still with that coy smile worn on her face. Her apprentices followed after her snickering at the idea of the usually serious doctor having such a bold suitor.
It became almost like a soap opera.
The scene would be reenacted every single time the Doctor would walk into the small curtain room to make her rounds. And every single time she would only shake her head with a smile. There had to be something wrong with this man's head. That crash landing hadn't been good for him.
Cassian wouldn't give up. Whenever he asked it was never a request; it was always a demand for something he needed. He wondered if this was what it was like when sailors fell eyes upon the lost sirens in the depths of space. It was a lost cause.
An obsession. He had been struck by an arrow and starred into the sun blindly.
There was no way he was letting go now.
He could remember the tales that his father told the mother he never met.
"I saw her, and it was like time stopped." He would say to Cassian in his tender youth. "That's how I knew we had to be together."
Regardless, her answer never changed. He persisted.
"As flattered as I am, do you know how unprofessional that would be of me?" was one of her excuses.
"Captain Andor, I'm afraid you are lucid," was another response.
"I said no yesterday, and the day before and the day before. What makes you think I will say yes today?"
She would always ask with a playful smile.
"Captain Andor, if you already know what the answer will be, why do you keep asking?" She asked as he struggled to sit up in the uncomfortable bed. She sat close listening to his heartbeat with her stethoscope. There was no other excuse for his sudden infatuation
"You must've hit your head really hard." She commented as she examined his cranium.
Surprisingly he was quiet for a moment. The nurses had come to enjoy their interactions and would often merely attend to witness the fruitless attempts of the captain. Their unwanted presence was greeted with a severe glare from the Doctor and a "Have you finished your reports?"
"Because there is always hope," he said calmly as he reached for her warm hand. The Doctor noted that despite the calmness in his voice his heart was aggressively hammering through her stethoscope. She saw the determined glint in his eyes. His calloused hand squeezed hers. She removed both of her hands from his person. She merely attributed his infatuation to something called Florence Nightingale syndrome. It wasn't uncommon for injured individuals to feel a sudden attraction for their caretakers.
"Cassian," she began slowly.
He looked at her surprised noticing that she had addressed by his first name.
"Listen," she said reaching and placing her stethoscope around his head. She was about to speak again but was interrupted by her pager. She ignored it and resumed.
"I want you to listen to something-" She said picking up the mouth of the stethoscope.
Again, that darn buzzing. It was an emergency. Embarrassed at the fact that petty flirting had gotten in the way of her medical duties. Without another word she bolted out of the curtained room
Cassian mentally cursed as he spilled back into his hospital bed. He starred at the off lightbulbs above his head that he had grown used to.
i'What was she going to show him?'/i He ran his hands over his face in frustration and slid deep into the covers. At this point, he was no stranger to failure.
The following afternoon, Dr. Stryker was making rounds as she usually did. However, today was different. She could feel the bottom of her stomach flipping with anxiety. She inhaled a deep breath and braced herself before swatting away the curtain that served as the door to Captain Andor's room, and she could feel her anxiety turning into panic at the terrible sight.
He was gone.
Panic surged through her.
He was gone.
His bed empty, sheets tangled. There was a terribly sick man wondering around the medical ward unsupervised. She immediately brought up her pager to her lips and alerted the other medics in the medical ward. This wasn't possible, he hadn't been discharged. After being in such delicate condition, it was compromising for the entire camp and especially for him to be casually walking about.
Especially after being poisoned and almost dying...
"Nurse!" she shouted as she ran out of the room breathlessly. "Nurse!"
When she reached the outside of the room, she was suddenly brought to a halt.
In front of her, barely standing on his own feet stood Cassian leaning against the wall weakly, He wore a pair of beige hospital robes which contrasted with his shaggy appearance. On the one hand, he held a bouquet of bioluminescent violet orchid flowers, one of the native flowers of Yavin 4; he approached her stumbling on his bare feet. She rushed towards him, and he grasped onto her waist tightly allowing his weight to collapse on hers. She kept an equally tight grip on his arms keeping him on his toes. His grip tightened when he realized how close he was and he offered the flowers to her accidentally slapping her chin with them.
"S-sorry..." He apologized nervously. Once again he cursed at himself inside his head.
"Idiot!" She exclaimed unhappily. He could've gotten hurt! How could he be so careless?! She called for assistance once again.
"Lya Stryker, will you go out with me. Please?" He asked with a smirk. She took the flowers in one hand and tossed them over her shoulder carelessly.
"Lya Stryker, will you go out with me?" he repeated as she carried him back to his hospital bed.
"Lya Stryker-" He was about to ask one last third time.
He wasn't going to give up. Every single time his eyes met her vibrant ones he felt it. That knot in his throat that fight or flight instinct kicking up inside of him stirring his stomach and usually focused emotions.
"So how did you get her to notice you?" He had asked his father that same day. The man scratched his chin and smiled at the memory of his late wide. "Just- if you ever find her son. Don't give up." He had smiled down at his son and patted his back shoulder.
It was rare to have such tender moments during the time of war. Perhaps that's why he remembered it so well. It was before the Clone Wars. Before his father accompanies his mother in the afterlife.
He was taken back when what sounded like agreement reached his ears.
"Fine!" She exclaimed.
"Maybe." She fumed hands on her hips.
Her eyes focused on him with a sharp glare. This man... She wanted to ask if he was like this with every single woman he met.
A smirk edged on Cassian's face at the look on her face.
Perhaps, a maybe was better than a no. No?