Summary: The survivors of Captain Stratoveer's attack are taken to the Starkiller Base's main medical ward to get patched up.
How long did it take for a dead man to go cold?
You fought the urge to reach down and touch Stratoveer's hand that had gone completely white with veins of blue. It was pinned beneath him with just the fingers showing, and you couldn't pull your eyes away from him. He was dead. Truly, irreversibly dead. It wasn't the same as when SC-4341 had died just a few steps away in the bed where Kylo Ren now rested. It wasn't the same as finding a dead pet or walking up to a funeral wake. This was something all too different, all too powerful and terrifying, because you had done this. A man was dead on the ground, his legs separated from his body beneath the knees and half his neck cut through with a lightsabre, and you were responsible.
Kylo's lightsabre was still on beside you, just resting on the floor and snapping like fire as it burnt a black stain into the metal tiles beneath it. You didn't want to turn it off. Not yet. And even if you had—even if you had the courage to shut off the power activator or touch Stratoveer's dead corpse to see just how un-alive he was—your arms were useless. The left arm was completely numb and dripping blood onto the floor, onto your trousers, onto damn near everything. The gauze held the wound mostly shut so that it wouldn't kill you, but that didn't mean that you hadn't lost a decent amount of blood—enough that you knew your lips were most likely blue and face pale.
And then there was your right arm, full of stabbing pains with every beat of your heart. There was no doubt that it was broken right below the elbow. The skin was bright red, and inflammation had increased your arm to twice its normal size. Moving even your fingers was excruciating. There was no way to pull yourself from the ground, no way to move over to Kylo and check on him since he had been unconscious for a while.
So you sat there in the dark and silence. Tears were running down your cheeks from pain, from horror that you had just killed a man, from... you didn't even know. There were so many things running through your head at the moment. All that you wanted to concentrate on was the crackling of the sabre beside you and its glowing red light. Everything else was just too much.
You could hear the faintest of sounds from outside of the medical ward. Footsteps. Talking. Then shouts and yells. Captain Phasma's voice had become the loudest as she let out a pained roar of rage, and you could hear General Hux trying to calm her down. More tears ran down your face. You didn't know what they had found in the emergency area of the medical ward, but you knew that it wasn't anything good. They had most likely found the bodies that Stratoveer had so cruelly murdered in his attempts to end the life of Kylo Ren.
Kylo had been so right... Anyone who had stood in the captain's way was dead or injured.
More footsteps echoed down the hall, and Hux crashed into the door, jumping over the desk that was still slightly in front of the doorway. His eyes tried to adjust to the dark and only caught sight of Kylo Ren's glowing lightsabre. He took a hesitant step forward, reaching for a light to fully illuminate the room. As the lights flicked on, he gave a small gasp, his eyes on Captain Stratoveer's lifeless body. Then his blue eyes hovered on Kylo and, last, on you with the lightsabre beside you.
He took a few steps forward and knelt before you. There was nothing that he could say at the moment, but his mouth was slightly ajar as though he was trying to gather all of his thoughts together. He took one look at your left arm that was bleeding out a puddle, and he seemed to make up his mind.
"We're taking all survivors to the Starkiller Base. Can you walk?"
You nodded your head. "I need help standing, though."
He glanced at your right arm and cringed. As gently as possible, Hux lifted you with one hand beneath each of your arms, and you grimaced as you came to a stand. Your entire world seemed to fade in and out for a moment as the blood rushed to meet your brain. Hux kept an arm at your shoulders as he yelled over to Kylo Ren to wake him.
"Hey, you aren't dead, are you?" he called. What an arse.
Kylo huffed out a heavy sigh and scrunched his eyes closed.
"There's a fucking monitor attached to me for a reason, Hux," he groaned. It was the most he had spoken in nearly two hours.
Hux rolled his eyes and started to walk you out of the room. "At least someone's feeling better. I can't say the same for everyone else."
"Fuck off." Kylo weakly pushed himself up so that he was sitting on the bed and leaning against the wall, his head back and mouth gasping for air from even the tiniest of exertion. "This's... your... damn fault... for leaving..."
Hux had already lead you out of the room but called back to Kylo Ren, "Don't move any more. I'll be back in a few minutes."
You could hear Kylo cursing weakly into his oxygen mask as you stared down the medical ward's hallway in front of you. The bodies of two aides were still on the floor, both face down. Hux completely ignored both of them as you walked.
"How many people..." are dead?
Hux seemed to understand without you having to finish. "Four aides. Two Storm Troopers." The general was gritting his teeth, staring straight forward. "Another aide will most likely die any minute now. Amena..." He paused, finally looking at you as he swallowed heavily. "I don't know. Talia and Phasma are with her. Talia had the sense to hide under a desk, thank the stars." For a moment, Hux seemed to relax in the relief of Talia being unharmed, but his face dropped back into a grimace the moment that you both entered the emergency area of the ward.
Where Kylo had been on the metal table just an hour before, Amena now lied. Two blaster burns had hit her—one in the thigh and another at her hip. Talia was running about as fast as she could to connect oxygen, administer morphine, just do anything to stabilise Amena enough so that she could be lifted by a few Storm Troopers who had a stretcher ready. All the while, Phasma was standing beside the table with the most twisted, pained expression on her pale face. Tears had welled in her eyes as she gripped onto Amena's hand, silently mouthing words through a clenched jaw.
Hux was barking out directions to a few more Storm Troopers who had arrived, commanding three to help Kylo and another to escort you to the hanger where a ship was waiting to transport everyone to the Starkiller Base below where a larger medical facility would be able to care for everyone.
There was no time to ask how Amena was doing with the Trooper now at your side, his arm behind your back to guide you down the hall.
"This way, ma'am."
You recognised his voice and searched for the familiar scratch on the Trooper's armour, just below his hidden right collarbone.
"You seem to show up whenever I've gotten myself in trouble," you mumbled. The Trooper slightly stumbled over his feet but then kept walking, now with a little more urgency.
He hesitated in speech, not knowing how friendly he was allowed to be. "I guess I'm your guardian angel."
You shrugged and immediately let out a hiss as you aggravated the break in your right arm. That had been a dumb move. He handed you an ice bag from the med ward to hold on your right arm though quickly realised that there was no way for you to actually pick it up. So the Trooper dashed back for a moment and returned with a sling and gauze to wrap the ice bag flush against your arm that was now held securely. You weren't sure if the ice was actually helping to alleviate any of the pain, but it certainly was a kind gesture.
"What's your name, by the way?"
"FN-2187."
You sighed. It was just about impossible to tell which Trooper was which with their random string of numbers and letters for a name. Why had you even bothered to ask? "I'll never remember that, but thanks."
Not much time passed between you getting aboard the ship and Kylo following behind. He was leaning on two Storm Troopers with an arm over each of their shoulders. His helmet was in place, hiding the anguish that no doubt painted his face with every step. There was no way that he should be walking—especially not without the oxygen and iv drip—but he could be a stubborn fool.
"What are you doing?" you hissed as Kylo dropped into a seat and tossed his helmet to the ground. He gasped for air, and a Trooper rushed over the oxygen mask, strapping it behind his ears and messy hair. His arm and its now detached iv ports had been hidden beneath his hooded cloak, but he threw it aside to reveal the raw marks where he had no doubt pulled the ivs. You wanted to reach out and shake some sense into him.
"If you had thousands of troops to lead, you would do the same."
You sighed, annoyed and still in too much pain to actually argue with his stupid man tendencies. Besides, the entire ship was suddenly jumping into a frenzy as Amena was lifted inside by several Troopers. Talia was still with her and pressing down on the blaster wound on Amena's hip that had started to bleed through the cauterisation, and a Trooper was helping to carry an oxygen tank that was connected to a face mask. It was difficult to see how Amena was actually doing with having a cervical collar holding her neck in place and spinal precautions as she was strapped to the stretcher. And it didn't help that Talia really didn't know what in the hell she was doing—something she repeatedly admitted. Like you, she wasn't this kind of doctor.
"It should've been me," Talia whispered after the ship had taken off. What a blessing that the Starkiller Base was so close; it would only take fifteen minutes before they would land.
Hux had followed everyone on board and was pacing in his foul mood with a grimace like acid. "Don't say that! How could you... how could you ever say-" Suddenly he was on the other side of Amena, leaning over to be directly in Talia's face. He was livid that she would ever actively want to be in harm's way.
"I should've intubated her, Hux, and I don't fucking know how to do it properly, and if she dies on the way to the base, it's entirely my fault for being a shitty doctor," Talia retaliated. "And Phasma'll never forgive me."
"Shut up, both of you," Kylo interjected, but Hux sent a scowl in his direction unlike anything you had seen from him yet.
"Stay out of this, Ren," he hissed.
"By all means, then, argue with one another over a dying woman's body."
Hux let out a growl and balled his fists together, wanting nothing more than to lay hands onto Kylo Ren's neck or punch his fist into the bastard's face until it was unrecognisable. But instead, he held onto Talia's shoulders as she began to sob.
Hux tried repeatedly to ease Talia's self-loathing, but it was of little use; she was as pig-headed as he was. Hell, all of you aboard were just about equally as stubborn, which only meant trouble. Only that FN-whatever Trooper was staying calm as he sat by himself at the back of the ship.
"I don't want to listen to them," you whispered to Kylo whilst sitting next to him. He put an arm around your shoulder, letting you rest your left side against him. Your arm wasn't bleeding as much now, but you could feel absolutely nothing. He held onto you, and you closed your eyes, trying to process through the past few hours of your life.
Kylo poisoned. Stratoveer's attack and subsequent death. Aides killed. Arm broken. Amena critically injured.
It was all too much for you to deal with right now. You tried to squeeze your eyes shut and focus on the noise of the ship as it passed through the void of space and into the Starkiller Base's snowy atmosphere. You tried to concentrate on Kylo's breathing as you rested your head against his chest, noting that he was no longer gasping and seemed to be feeling slightly better with each passing minute. You even let the pain of your broken arm breach your consciousness as though that would block out Talia weeping and Hux not knowing how to properly comfort her.
Somehow in the sensory overload, your mind decided to call it quits for a while, and you fell asleep against Kylo Ren. The world around you was gone, and you were thankful. It had been too much. Too much. Too much.
When you awoke, the ship was gone. The dark durasteel interior had been replaced with the sterile white walls of a large sick bay. You blinked up at the ceiling, taking in the white tiles and curtain rods that no doubt separated you from the other patients. A monitor beeped quietly in the background, and you drowsily looked down to see your right arm in a temporary brace. A bone-knitter device was sitting on a small table nearby along with an open box of medical gloves. Your attention turned to your other arm after a moment to see that it was wrapped in fresh gauze and, amazingly, had feeling again. Wiggling your fingers and giving a twist of your wrist hurt far more than it should have, but the stretch of bruised skin told you that there were a line of stitches beneath the gauze.
It was as you were twisting your left wrist that you noticed the bed next to you and Kylo Ren sleeping there. He no longer wore his coat nor padded armour with its cut off sleeve but was in a loose grey shirt and his black trousers. His boots had been kicked off and thrown lazily under the bed. The full oxygen mask that he had last worn was gone, replaced by a simple nasal cannula. Without the mask, it was easier to see the black and blue staining around his lips and nose from the silver nitrate poisoning, and you wondered if he was even aware of the discolouration.
You searched through the Force, trying to find what he could feel even though he was sleeping. The second that you tried, though, he began to stir and blinked heavily hooded eyes a few times before he gave a tiny smile in your direction. Kylo slowly sat up, giving his shoulders a roll and cracking his neck.
"About time that you woke up," he mentioned, voice low and husky with sleep. "I took a nap while waiting for you."
Your mind felt heavy, still slightly confused from having slept for so long. "How long have I been here?"
Kylo glanced at a clock on the opposing wall; it was nearly seven in the morning. "Nine hours." He motioned toward an x-ray view box beside the clock that was off but had a few x-rays tucked in place. "Enough time that the doctor already took x-rays and mended your arm after giving you stitches. You got a lot more than seven this time."
He slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed and set his bare feet on the floor. For a moment, Kylo looked unsure about moving. His dark eyes glanced over at the empty doorway, checking to see if he was being watched by any nurses. And then he plucked the cannula from his nose and flicked a switch to its off position on the oxygen tank beside the bed.
"Did the doctor say you could do that?" you confronted.
Kylo shrugged. "I feel fine."
You rolled your eyes. Even without the Force Bond in place, you could tell that he was still in some pain. But the oxygen probably wasn't necessary any longer.
Kylo stood up and slowly made his way to your bed until he was kneeling beside you with his elbows propped on the mattress. His fingers glided over the gauze that hid away most likely a couple dozen stitches. It was the lightest, gentlest of touches—so light that you questioned whether you were really feeling him or not.
"This didn't turned out how I had planned," Kylo mentioned.
"Does anything?"
"I don't know," he sighed. "At least you're alive. Amena is, too, somehow."
That was finally some good news after all of the awful things that had happened since the evening before.
"I'm sorry..." he said after a little while. His fingers were now up at your face, thumb moving in tiny circles on your cheek. For what exactly he was sorry, he hadn't quite decided, but he felt it all the while. Maybe Kylo Ren was sorry that you had gone through so much pain. Maybe he was sorry that you had been involved in this mess in the first place. Maybe he was sorry for himself. An unfamiliar sympathy was flowing through his veins where poison had tried to dominate.
"You told me that my life was in danger from the first step I took onto the satellite," you replied, recalling his words from so many weeks before. "I think that I'm accepting this as being the new norm for my life." It wasn't a normalcy that you had ever wanted—this constant danger—but if it was the trade-off for having Kylo Ren by your side, then so be it.
He stretched forward, giving you a kiss on your forehead and then onto the tip of your nose and finally to your lips. "You shouldn't have to accept the shit that comes with my life."
"But I have. That's what we do..." when we love somebody.
You knew that he had heard the words that had floated through your mind without ever reaching your lips. The way that he froze in place told you everything that you needed to know.
"...What?" His voice came out as a strangled whisper. Every muscle in his body had tensed as he tried to comprehend the gravity of what you had nearly told him.
The stitches in your left arm pulled achingly as you reached up to his hand that was still on your cheek. "I love you, Kylo. Is it not obvious?"
He swallowed hard, and the taut muscles of his arms were trembling.
"No one..." he began, his voice giving a slight crack, "has said that to me in a very long time."
Kylo slowly climbed onto the mattress with the greatest of caution and rested beside you on his side. His arm reached around to hold the right side of your face and gently brush away some of your hair. Tears had begun to pool in his eyes, causing his dark irises to shimmer like glass. His lips were on your forehead, and he pulled you closer so that he could put his face into your hair—so he could breathe in the warm smell of you and remember that you were completely real. His throat had begun to hurt again, but it wasn't the silver nitrate any more. It was the constricting feeling that came before sobs and outrage. He was afraid to speak. If even a word was uttered, his throat would collapse in on itself, and the tears he was trying to hold back would flood forth like rivers.
I love you, too.
Kylo tried to put every ounce of feeling into those words as he pushed them through the Force Bond. They repeated, over and over again as he held you tighter. I love you. I love you. It was a mantra that grew more desperate, and you noticed hot tears press into your hair as he took in a strangled breath.
I love you.
Glossary:
Tracheal Intubation: In some emergency situations, a tube is inserted down the trachea to aid in breathing. Talia was not properly trained to provide such sensitive aide to Amena and had to instead use an oxygen mask and hope for the best.
Cervical Collar (or c-collar): holds the head steady and supports the neck during trauma; it is a form of spinal precaution. When someone is injured, emergency crews just always assume that the spine has been injured. You know, just in case. We do the same in the gero world when our patients have falls.
Nasal Cannula: A small, clear, plastic tube that wraps around the ears and over the face so that it can deliver oxygen directly into he nose. It is generally unobtrussive and is what you probably see the most on tv.
A/N: So, this chapter got changed around sooooo many times. Originally it was going to be part of the last chapter, but that made it way too long. Then it was going to include the introduction of some new doctors on the Starkiller Base, and even Deirdre was going to show back up. But then it took a totally different turn and just became a fluff power-hour. Anyway, special thanks to my friend and go-to nurse, Rebecca, for helping me make this chapter a bit more medically accurate (and for reminding me that I am trash every time we get together). Also, I made the mistake of looking at pictures of broken arms on google, and just OH GOD. OH GOD WHY DID I DO THIS? OH MAN. The things I do for you all. Blessed be the Star Wars universe, where bone-knitters exist to quickly mend broken bones and HIPPA laws don't impede on plot devises.