Chapter 12

He was going to die. He was sure of it.

It had all started harmlessly enough. The day after returning to the ship, Hux felt a bit tired and achy. He chalked it up to the hours walking through the bazaar, not to mention the hours reprimanding General Callet for his negligent management of the planet entrusted to him.

The next day, he felt unreasonably warm, his pale skin flushed. He winced when he remembered that Ava had pushed him to put on some sort of lotion to protect his skin against the harsh sun. Usually sunburns showed up hours after exposure, not days, but perhaps it was some sort of unusual reaction to some variant of ultraviolet radiation. Ava tried to examine him, but he brushed her off. Things had been unbelievably tense between them, and Hux had been peevish and short with her at every meal. He had given her the red dress that he had gone back to the market to purchase and she had accepted it woodenly, without any enthusiasm.

The third morning after visiting the planet, Hux couldn't lift his head off of his pillow. His throat was dry and sore and he could barely swallow. His entire body was covered in reddish spots and his head ached so badly that he could hardly think. He felt like he was on fire and icy cold all at the same time.

He lay there for a good hour before Ava found him, wandering into his bedroom when he didn't come to the kitchen. He blinked as she turned a lamp on, the bright light intensifying the agony of his pounding head. It felt as though an iron nail was slowly being driven into his skull.

"Oh, Hux . . . you've got it, too."

"Got what?" He could barely whisper.

"It's Andovian fever."

"Why does that sound familiar?" he croaked.

"Doctor Ferran asked you to vaccinate the troops against it. You declined."

Hux gave a snort of laughter. "A bit short-sighted of me, it turns out."

"I got called in early this morning to help out in sickbay. Turns out that General Callat failed to warn us that there was a massive outbreak of it in the Edrov system. About 5% of the ship is already down with it. It's . . . . it's spreading rapidly."

"Any fatalities?"

"Not yet." She hesitated. "But they will come."

"Is it contagious?"

"Very."

Hux's eyes widened. "You should leave. Don't touch me. Get away from me. Don't go back to the sickbay. Quarantine yourself from the others until it's wiped out. That's an order."

"I appreciate your concern for my safety, but I'm one of only two doctors on board. The med-droids won't be enough. If I don't help your troops, they'll start dying in droves."

"I don't care about them," he managed through gritted teeth.

"But you care about me?"

Hux didn't respond.

She gave him a small smile. "Well, it's alright. You don't have to worry about me. I was vaccinated against Andovian fever as a child. We take those things seriously on my planet."

"Oh . . . thank goodness," Hux said as he let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding.

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The next few days Hux drifted in and out of consciousness. Ava checked on him several times a day, whenever she could get away from the sickbay. She examined him, monitored his progress, and gave him the medicine that aided in his slow recovery.

One morning, he woke up and realized that he was in bed with only his trousers on and Ava was at his side, checking his vitals. He shouldn't have felt uncomfortable, sitting there shirtless in front of his own wife, but he squirmed nonetheless under her intent gaze.

He was hardly an innocent. While he had never been in any relationship that was even remotely romantic, he had, on a few occasions, indulged himself by visiting a few high-end brothels that catered to elite clientele while on shore leave. They were soulless encounters, fleeting and ultimately unsatisfying, leaving him feeling empty and more restless than before.

He pulled the covers up to his neck, feeling uncomfortably exposed, unused to any kind of true intimacy.

"My shirt?" Hux asked.

"You were burning up. I needed to cool you down a bit." She placed a soothing hand on his forehead. "Your fever's still too high. You need to get better soon. General Selmur has taken over command and he's being unbearable."

Hux shuddered. If ever there was an incentive to get well, having Selmur at the helm was a strong one.

Ava handed him a small glass of water and some pills to take. "In your sleep . . . you called out. Something about your father."

"Then, it must have been a nightmare." He swallowed the pills, grateful that the headache was beginning to subside a bit.

"A nightmare?"

Hux thought for a moment, then forged ahead. "My . . . father was an unbelievably cruel man. The things he said to me . . . The things he did to me." He shuddered as the memories overcame him, threatening to drown him. "He tried to be careful to not leave any marks." He swallowed hard. "It's amazing what you can do to a child without even leaving so much as a bruise behind."

"Oh, Hux . . . ."

"When I grew older, I arranged for Phasma to . . . eliminate him. It was so freeing to have him gone. It should have made me happy." Hux shook his head. "But he never really left. He still lives up here." He motioned to his temples. "Every decision I make, every action I take . . . I trace back to him . . . To a misguided attempt to prove my worth to a dead man."

"You had your father killed?"

Hux nodded. "The only thing Kylo and I have in common." He let out a dark laugh. "Except I suspect that his father wasn't quite the monster he made him out to be. That whole business was more about Snoke manipulating him once again more than anything else. I'm sure of it."

"You don't have to prove your worth to your father. Dead or alive."

"Spoken like someone who grew up coddled."

"I was loved. There's a difference."

Hux wasn't ready to hear about her loving childhood and decided to change the subject. "Why do you do it? Help out at the sick bay? Deal with the sick and injured all day long? Why do you waste your time?"

"Every person matters. Every single person. I show compassion to them, because they need it. They have no home; they have no family."

"The First Order is their family."

"Even you don't believe that," she scoffed.

"The First Order has given me everything. Without it, I would be nothing."

"That's not true."

"It is. Compassion. Kindness . . . love." He made the last one sound like a curse. "Those are just other words for weakness. Something to be exploited by others. The First Order only knows strength and determination and power."

"No. You're wrong. That's your father talking. Kindness . . . . Empathy . . . they are our greatest strengths. People will do far more out of love and loyalty than out of fear and hatred."

"It's talk like that will make people think you're a Rebel sympathizer."

She shrugged. "I'm on your side. You know that, right? That's all that really matters."

"That's not enough. As my wife, you must demonstrate your loyalty to the First Order."

"Why?"

"Do you have any idea what happens to Rebel sympathizers aboard a First Order ship? They'd tear you apart." Hux shuddered slightly at the thought of it.

"So, you care what happens to me. That sounds an awful lot like compassion to me."

Hux wrinkled his nose. "Hardly. It's for my own benefit. Your behavior reflects on me."

"Admit it. You like me. It's alright, you know. You are allowed to like your own wife. I like you, too." She shrugged. "Most of the time. When you're not spouting off First Order propaganda points."

"Why would you ever like me?" Hux was genuinely perplexed.

"I can't be the only person in your life who likes you. What about Phasma?"

Hux shrugged. He doubted that Phasma actually cared whether he lived or died. Her sole focus was her own survival. And, while he valued her loyalty and effectiveness, that was the extent of it.

"Ruchi?" She asked.

He shook his head. Ruchi craved power and influence. He found it working as Hux's aide. But, he'd abandon or betray Hux in a heartbeat the second it became politically expedient.

"So, you don't have a single friend in the entire universe?"

He shook his head again, uncomfortable about where the conversation was going.

"Well, you've got me." She cocked her head to the side. "Funny, how it turned out."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Ren was supposed to sign the treaty, wasn't he? I would have ended up as his wife."

Hux felt his blood run cold and it had nothing to do with his illness.

Hux was horrified by the thought that she could have been married to Kylo instead of him. Kylo wasn't a patient man; Hux was sure he would have bedded her that first night. The thought of Kylo and Ava as husband and wife, of the image of the two of them entwined together, sparked a white hot flame of jealousy in him, an emotion he was surprised he possessed anymore. Envy, he knew. He'd spent his entire life being envious of the power that others possessed, letting the greed for it consume his being.

But jealousy, well . . . that was entirely new.

"You're mine," he growled, bunching the sheets up with his fingers.

"So, does that mean that you'll admit that you like me?"

"I find you . . . tolerable . . . occasionally." He forced himself to let go of the sheets and smoothe out his bed linens.

She gave him a genuine grin. "I'll take that as a yes. . . . I need to go. They need me back at sickbay. You're not my only patient . . . But you are my favorite one."

Hux couldn't reply and as she left, he realized he liked her rather more than he cared to admit.

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It was well past dinnertime and Hux decided to give up hope that Ava was going to arrive any time soon. After weeks in bed, he'd finally gotten well enough to take over his duties, banishing General Selmur once again to night duty. Selmur had protested the reassignment to nights, but Hux ignored his objections. He'd been hearing rumors that Selmur had been pressuring some of the female officers on board into some rather compromising positions and Hux was just done with the man and his disreputable actions. He had made up his mind that Selmur would find himself on the wrong side of an airlock before the week was up even though Selmur's political connections made it a risky move. Hux was sure that Ruchi would help him in his mission. That obsequious little toad would do anything to get into his good graces.

Hux looked at the time once again and suppressed a sigh. He supposed it was fine that she was running so late. They were still stamping out the last vestiges of the Andovian fever around the ship and both Ava and Dr. Ferran had been stretched thin. He was going just go ahead and start his dinner without her. She'd been complaining about being overwhelmed and he understood if she lost track of time.

Once he'd finished eating and the dishes had been washed and the leftover food stored away, there was a chime and a breathless voice came over the intercom. "General Hux, you're needed down at sickbay immediately."

"Dr. Ferran, what's happened?"

And with five words, Hux's world fell apart.

"It's Ava . . . she's been poisoned."

Author's Note- You know it's a slow burn when it takes 12 chapters to even admit that they like each other. Thanks to Shadows of Shemai for the airlock idea.

I hope that all of you have been enjoying the story. I've been incredibly busy, but if you are still interested, I'll still dedicate time to write it.