{Disney owns Star Wars universe and characters, not me. Warning: depictions of drinking alcohol to excess, alcoholism triggers, language warning, abuse flashback triggers. All of the triggers. Hold on tight. 18+ only, please.}

The alarm sounded from Fuleen's bedside console, and she slapped at it groggily. Her species didn't require as much sleep as humans, but she felt like she could sleep forever. She had had nothing but nightmares in what scant sleep she had managed to get.. She rolled over to reach for Din, but his side of the bed was empty.

Her body was so heavy. It was a great effort to sit up, even greater to slip the simple dress over her body. She didn't even bother with undergarments.

She entered the kitchen to find the dirty dishes were all in the cleaning unit, and Din was standing at the burners, cooking something in one of her pans.

"I hope you don't mind… I can at least fry an egg."

She just stood in the doorway of the kitchen, feeling hollowed out and emotionally sore. Tears welled in her eyes. She turned and went back to the bedroom. Din furrowed his brows, spatula-like implement raised, looking after her.

A moment later, she emerged with clunky headphones covering green ears. She rummaged in the kitchen cupboards for a moment, retrieving a large bottle of something black. And then she just left the cottage through its front door, leaving it open behind her.

Din removed the pan from flame, deactivating the stove top. He followed her hesitantly out the door.

She was sat in the center of her herb garden, wearing the massive headphones, staring off at the lake, taking intermittent swigs from the bottle. This was very odd behavior from her, as far as Din knew. He wisely retreated to the kitchen to finish preparing the simple meal.

Fuleen turned up the volume, blasting the music to which she would never dance publicly. It was full of painful harmony, slow beat, and belting, emotional vocals. The alcohol was home-stilled and usually meant for cleaning the engines of farm equipment. The flavor was excruciating and soothing all at once.

Here we go again… hold on tight. Down we go, no stopping it. Relive history, unwanted lessons. Then is now.

Then is now again.

Hold on tight.

Din waited a long time for her to come back. He ate his simple eggs in silence, staring at the full plate opposite where he sat.

He thought he heard something while he was rinsing his dish, and shut off the water.

Huttese- specifically lyrics sung in Huttese- drifted in through the kitchen window.

Din found Fuleen holding a hose attached to a deactivated droid in one hand, half-emptied bottle in the other, watering her herb garden and swaying, singing in perfect Huttese and oddly on-key. He was able to translate some of it, and it sounded like a string of angry expletives. The way she sweetly sung them was a bizarre contrast.

"Hold on tiiiiiiiiight! Heeeeeeere we gooooooo…" she sang. "Then is now! Fuck your mind, your mind fucks you over again…"

Her garden was oversaturated at this point, but heedless, she skipped back and forth in the mud barefoot, dancing drunkenly and swinging water all around herself. Din had to step back quickly before being hosed himself. He dared not disturb… whatever this was. Instead, he quietly monitored her from inside, hoping she didn't hurt herself.

She shut off the water, dropping the hose. Stupid fucking droids, don't do things right. She wobbled off to the barn. Spilled a drum of feed. Oh well, they'll eat it. Headphones had fallen off; didn't even notice. Wandered to the ladder, climbed to the loft. Quiet. Dark. Soft. Sweet. No hot metal or ozone. No burnt flesh, here. No cruel hands. No greedy appendages. No judgment. She clutched the bottle to her chest.

Make things grow. If I make enough things grow, it'll erase all the blood I've spilled. Make things safe. If I make enough animals feel safe, maybe I'll feel safe, too. Safe. Growing. Alive.

She listened desperately to her slow, thundering heartbeat until unconsciousness took her.

Red. Red. Redredredred.

Burning. Wrong, wrong. Everything I do is wrong. Turn the corner, get burned. Go back, get burned. Wrong. Not good enough; not fierce enough.

Pure terror on an innocent face, lit red. Her face lit, as well, in that raging light. Cool hatred. Catharsis slaked with blood, only with blood.

There was a blazing red light saber in her hand. It quivered as she stared at it.

"IOVIA!"

"Fuleen?"

She shrieked in abject horror, flinging the saber away from herself. It shattered as if made of glass.

Black high-proof alcohol trickled between boards of the floor of her barn. Todi and Bax cowered at the barn door, staring up at Fuleen uncertainly. Din was on the ladder, holding a water bottle, eyes wide.

"Are you alright?

"Y… yeah. Sorry. I just… just needed to be drunk in a barn for a bit."

She seized the water bottle, chugging it greedily. It had gotten dim; all was bathed in blue twilight. Her flashbacks were receding, but she still felt bony hands on her where she least wanted them.

Punishment and reward are the same. They're the same.

How long will this episode last, this time? I can't afford…

She crawled to the ladder, shoving at Din. He climbed down as she clumsily positioned herself on the ladder, but slipped and fell onto him. He wasn't really able to catch her, and both fell into a pile of feed.

"You should just go to bed." he wheezed, lifting her to her feet.

"No one tells me what to do," she slurred, jerking her arm from his grasp, and wobbled back to the cottage.