-Prelude-
A caretaker from one of the first orphanages I lived in had a favorite saying. A "quote" that I could still repeat word for word, even a whole decade later. They were simple words meant to give courage to the young boy. The words still ring quietly in my ears from time to time. A reminder, My reminder.
"James, F.E.A.R has two meanings. Forget Everything And Run or Face Everything And Rise. The choice will always be yours."
And I came to Hate those careless words. How was I supposed to face a fear that had become a tangible weight, curling around my stomach. It was a fear I couldn't face, that I couldn't run from.
The fear of dying alone. The fear of being Alone.
I, James Jones, was dying and I was very much alone. There was no friends, no family to ease my greatest fear. Just a middle aged nurse (that I didn't know the name of) who watched over me with a polite detached sadness that was downright fake.
There was no "Choice" as that caretaker put it and that only magnified the fear. But even as that fear should've sent my heart racing, should've sent the heart monitor beeping loudly, It did neither of those things.
Instead my heart beat only grew weaker.
And all I felt was a growing fatigue that was beginning to dull the fear. The fear that had been my constant (and only) companion for the last 14 months. Soft warning bells were ringing somewhere in my cloudy mind. But I couldn't see through the fog to figure out what was so unsettling. I couldn't think straight.
And I didn't realized that my heart had long since stopped beating. That the fear was gone and that I was dead.
I had died without even realizing it.
...
Thus, I hope you understand that when I reopened my eyes...I was vastly confused and slightly...just slightly hysterical. There were tears, screaming, LOTS of screaming and I may have bitten someone.
...It was a bad couple of hours
Obi-wan had been sleeping soundly. A deep sleep that was free from its usual nightmares. It had been a long time since he'd had a night that wasn't filled with its routine tossing and turning. Regrettably, that rest was broken when he felt a disturbance through the force. A ripple so strong it had him reaching for his lightsaber. The weight, familiar and comforting, gave Obi-wan a focal point to latch onto while driving off any remaining lethargy. The Jedi Master closed his eyes and focused, reaching through the force, because something was wrong.
Fear and Panic growing steadily, Light flaring in a desperate attempt to find something, anything so tired of being alone. Very very lonely.
Obi-wanfelt the emotion ripple through the force so strongly that for a second it nearly over whelmed him. He had to hastily throw up some mental shields. Even then, Obi-wan could still feel it as the light reached for him. An extremely strong force sensitive was projecting and Obi-wan only knew of one such person.
"Luke"
Swallowing down his own fear that came from the unknown situation 'And what could cause such a strong reaction in someone so young'His thoughts automatically turned to the worst case scenario. 'Had Anika-Vader found them?', Obi-wan wished that he didn't live so far away from the Lars.
Obi-wan had never flown so recklessly in his life. The fact that he made the normally 60 minute route in less then 30 proved this. Even so, the scenery around him seemed to crawl by agonizingly slow. As the moisture farm finally appeared on the horizon, Obi-wan loosened his white knuckle grip on the controls.
"A Jedi most not act while in the grip of fear. Calm your mind, Obi-wan"
The admonishment sounded surprisingly like his old master and Obi-wan found himself automatically obeying. He took a deep breath and released his feelings into the force. A calm, collected Obi-wan Kenobi strode up to the front doors of the Lars dwelling.
He didn't even get to the door before it opened to reveal a...relieved and tired Owen. That alone was enough to send Obi-wan hurrying past the man with a renewed sense of urgency. For Obi-wan to encounter something other then not-so-thinly veiled contempt from Owen Lars, was enough to shatter his hastily gathered calm.
He was met, with a teary eyed and worried Beru, just outside Luke's bedroom. Scratch marks lined her arms, coupled with a few bleeding bite marks.
"BEN!" A relieved Beru shouted. "Luke,-I was checking on him but he wasn't breathing,- he started panicking and he wouldn't let me near him...we-I can't get to him."
The words were rambled together and Obi-wan wasn't sure how she had managed to say all that with one breath. Beru trailed off when she realized she wasn't making much sense. Her hands gesturing wildly towards her little boy with frustration and worry.
"I believe it would be for the best if you two remained out here." Obi-wan said placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Being this close to the source of the emotions was proving difficult. Obi-wan wished he had more time to strengthen his mental shields but the Force was urging him onward. A sense of urgency ringing in the back of this thoughts, warning him that he didn't have much time.
As Obi-wan entered the room and he had to brace himself against a force push. One that had very nearly shoved him back into the hallway. Embarrassingly enough, it had taken the Jedi master by surprise but as it was a wide area push. (The intent clearly to keep others away rather then harm them) and was therefor less concentrated, Obi-wan managed to save himself the embarrassment of being outed by a youngling.
The said youngling was curled up on his bed, as far away from the door as he could get. His hands hugged his knees making his frame appear even smaller. The blue eyes were glazed and stared unseeingly straight ahead. His breath coming to shallow and fast.
"Luke" Obi-wan voiced laced with the strength of the force. He couldn't quite remove the twinge of worry completely. "Luke, look at me."
James had truly outdone himself this time. His uncanny ability to get himself into the most bizarre of circumstances, had surpassed any and all standards this time. 'It truly was amazing' James thought as he stared into Grey-blue eyes that held...was that concern, for him? 'Hey you could be wrong it has been awhile. It could be obligation...was obligation an emotion?'
His thoughts were sluggish, so very tired and he recognized the after effects of a Panic attack. This man, who ever he was, had actually managed bring him down and out of a panic attack.
A feat that was quite the accomplishment, that's for sure. At the least it was something none of his previous foster parents had ever managed to accomplish it. James frowned, then again their tactics hadn't exactly been very noteworthy.
His frown deepened, Why did he have a panic attack all of a sudden? His last one had been several years ago. And where in the nine hell's was he? He certainly didn't remember being moved to a new home and the room was unlike anything he'd ever seen (and that was saying something because he'd had a lot of strange rooms).
With a sinking realization, James remembered that the last room he had been in was inside a hospital. That he had been laying in that cold sterile bed as his-
'-heart beat flat lined'
James shook his head frantically in denial 'Because no he wasn't- he couldn't be-' But a persistent whispering around James assuring him that, 'yes he was-'
'NO'
'-Dead'
It must be one of the drugs they gave him, they were making him loopy. The whispering grew louder and even more persistent in trying to get James to acknowledge the truth. But James was nothing if not stubborn and he blatantly ignored it in favor of looking around the unique room.
And the doctors must have put him on some pretty strong stuff because the room made him feel like a midget. But even that, was nothing compared to the auburn haired man that was kneeling in front of the bed. He looked familiar but James was sure none of his doctors had such caring eyes and the man was huge, way taller then him. He had to crane his neck to look at the man even with him still kneeling and James wasn't exactly a shortie.
He had been at 5 ft. 10 in. with several more years of growing ahead.
'had been...why did he use past tense?'
The whispering grew to a shout, jarring and painful with its truth.
'had been'
Which meant that he wasn't anymore, bile rouse in his throat and he clutched his head trying to get the 'God damned Voice to Shut UP because he wasn't going to acknowledge it, he Wasn't'. but he made the mistake of thinking about it and it grew stronger/louder.
It kept telling him that James Jones was dead. That he had died in 'that sterile hospitals' "cold bed''. But the Force didn't stop. It was unforgiving in its honesty delivering truth after truth. Dragging his final moments up to be seen and acknowledged. (Heart monitor flat-lining as the nurse calmly wrote done the time of death "8:09 A.M" before disconnecting the monitor)
He choked on the air and he begged the Presence to stop, to please just stop it. He got it. he understood so please...It swirled around the boy in confusion at the pain and fear it caused within the youngling with each answer it gave. The Force tried to reassure the youngling by drawing closer, surging inside the panicked boys mind.
That familiar feeling of F.E.A.R grew within James
'No not James. No longer James...but Luke?'
A voice was trying to calm him down and ('James/Luke?') didn't know if it was his own, the Force or the Auburn haired man's. When his consciousness was filled with the repeating thought that he had died, his breathing choked with dry panicked sobs, something...no someone had picked him up.
"LUKE" The voice shouted in Alarm.
He focused on the voice that drove the whispering Force out of his head. The tone was soothing, even when it was yelling, and it held concern. Something he had rarely experienced and in his panicked state he greedily latched onto it.
"Luke, breath" the voice (He decided to call owner of the voice Red for now) sounded desperate "Breath with me, Luke.''
He already knew that. Was familiar enough with the procedure but he had barely recovered from his first attack before Fear had driven him back into another one. Panic attacks felt like you were dying and that scared him. He was scared of the Panic attacks and that fear only gave it more fuel. A truly Vicious cycle.
He wanted to listen to that soothing voice and he fought to drag in a breath only to release it with a 'Whoosh' that came out far to fast but it was something. He focused on trying to release the air slower, holding it in longer. Trying to match it to Red's breathing. It was difficult to keep in time with him, his heart and lungs demanding more/faster/faster/not enough/give me more.
But he felt, more than heard, a second heart that was beating just as rapidly against his own. It brought a sort of twisted sense of comfort to him. A reassurance that he wasn't actually alone in his panic.
'Not Alone' And he clung to Red's tunics.
Red never stopped talking, interrupting his own thoughts whenever they circled back to the fact that he was ('no longer James and that James was dead that he was-'). It murmured reassurances repeatedly telling him he was doing well, that everything was alright and to just focus on breathing.
And simply because Red asked him to, ('Luke/James') made the conscious decision to keep breathing.
What could have been hours, passed. With his head just resting against the mans chest. The sound of the two hearts beating slowly and nearly in sync along with the voice made the chest he was laying on rumble slightly and eventually it lulled the emotionally exhausted youngling to sleep.
The white knuckled grip on Red's clothing was fueled by a desperation of not wanting to wake up alone in a strange room. A strange room that was on a different planet.
In a galaxy far far away.
Thus my ongoing fight with Grammar continues *Cries pitifully in the corner* and I'm losing...TERRIBLY (Please send any mental health potions. This boss is brutal and unforgiving, current HP is in single digits)
Seriously if anyone wants to Beta this I would be eternally grateful.
