"You have a visitor requesting entry."
Kylo glanced to the nurse, responding as he stood, "I know. Grant it."
"You musn't be up just yet."
"You will not tell me what I must and must not do!" he shouted, and she clutched her clipboard closer to her chest, grey talons curling into it. With a scaly elbow she touched a wall panel and quickly stepped back into the hall.
The door was again in place, and the suite was silent.
He had hardly been awake five minutes before the nurse had stepped in. Now Kylo stepped toward a window, unsure of his location. He stumbled but caught himself by grabbing onto a windowsill. Damn those fools. Someone had him on pain killers.
He had passed out from pain hours ago. The medic he had been with must have transported him to a hospital.
Passed out… From some bleeding and some burns… Pathetic…
"Kylo Ren!"
He turned to you after looking out to an urban scene and a far off sun casting the day's last moments of light in streaks of orange and pink lying low toward the horizon.
Her presence was a welcome comfort ever since he had sensed her arrival.
"Shady hospital they've got you in…" she remarked, but was certain there was a reason he was here. A hospital affiliated with the First Order had its advantages, although it had been troublesome trying to get in.
"Why are you here?" he asked sharply, making his way back to the bed and sitting down.
"It was on the way…" she said offhandedly.
"On the way? To?"
"I need another crystal."
"… Again?"
"Yes. I do have a terrible history of losing my light sabers." She pulled up a chair to be close to him while still giving him enough space. "But anyway, how are you feeling?" she asked as he laid back.
Were those streaks on his pillow tears?
"Detached. Empty. I don't know."
She smiled sadly. "Physically, I meant?"
"I caught up on my sleep, I suppose." he muttered.
She hoped he would sleep some more. He probably would with the pain killers. He needed it.
"You must be quite tired. I'm sorry if I'm bothering you. Is there anything I can do for you? Bring you?" she offered.
"You're not." he said but turned onto his side so that his back was facing her.
She waited a moment before speaking again. "Do you need anything?"
"NO!"
She stood, the heels of her boots loud on the floor as she took slow steps back.
She knew he was wrong. His mood would worsen if he didn't get something when he wanted it yet couldn't admit yes. She was the same way.
"Maybe some tea?"
"I GUESS!"
No was 'yes but I dont want to say it' and 'I guess' was 'yes why even ask just do it.'
She bowed to him and took her leave.
Before the door closed, he said, "The room passkey is 394."
Now he was alone with his thoughts. Uncontrolled and returning obsessively.
Kylo Ren grimaced, turning onto his back and ripping stitches out if his face. Stitches so thin and clear they were virtually invisible. Then his nails scratched into the wound grotesquely. He needed the pain to ground himself in the power of the dark side. Yet as blood slipped down, tears joined them, and he shivered as anger consumed his heart. He was absolutely furious to be seen like this by anyone. To lie in bed dizzy and tired and vulnerable. He hated it.
In his abrupt fit of rage and in his haze he sloppily summoned his light saber into his hand. He nearly had dropped it half way from a table to the bed, but now it was in his grasp. He was shaking as he ignited it, screaming out in frustration and leaping out of bed to shatter an empty vase, the window… And a television when he hurled it across the room.
His strength left him as quickly as it had come. He fell to his knees and crossed his arms, droplets of blood collecting on the floor under him as he lowered his head, breathing heavily.
He heard someone on a sidewalk far below him shrieking at the shards of glass from the annihilated window.
Yet he makes no signal for you to leave when you return with a tray holding a tea set and biscuits.
Slowly he lifted his gaze. If he had to name one person that would see him like this… If someone absolutely had to, it would be her. She would never tell him he was weak. She would never tell him he wasn't good enough.
"Kylo… What…"
Now, she was not new to his outbursts, and she knew the rumor of storm troopers calling him Darth Tantrum behind his back. But here he was, sitting on the floor and looking terribly melancholy.
She set the tray on a table in the suite's sitting room. She stepped into the bathroom and pulled a few tissues out of a box.
What had happened to his face? She knelt beside him, pressing a kleenex to the slash.
"Will you allow me to bring a doctor in?" she asked softly.
He looked away but nodded, black hair falling into his face.
"Can you get up?" she asked, reaching for his hand. Carefully she helped him stand and get back to bed.
For a moment she sat beside him with an arm around his waist and a hand on his.
"I'll be right back." she said when his breathing had calmed.
As she walked down a long corridor in search of a nurse or doctor, tears clung to her eyelashes. Oh, Kylo.
