Extensive Medical Training

You have to admit oneshot romance fics that revolve around healing wounds are the best kind. Mical/Exile pairing. Because it never gets enough love.

Rated PG13

Disclaimer: I think someone needs to poke me fulla' hypo holes.

Extensive Medical Training

"Hey, Mical?"

Her voice came quiet, breaking violently through the heavy silence that came only in the sweltering Onderon summers. Even now the room was unbearably hot, which was why the disciple, Mical, had the window open. Now, as she slipped in and the door closed silently behind her, he didn't bother to turn his eyes away from the shimmering, white-and-gold buildings of Iziz. How beautiful the city was at the peak of day in summer, with the glinting windows like jewels on marble carved from milk, wavering, fading, sunset-colored distances, with the occasional star-like flicker from a passing speeder.

Mical had never been a city boy. He had been raised in his first years of life on a small home in a tightly-knit town, before he had been taken away to Dantooine, where the conditions were hardly expanded upon. He had spent a few years wandering from planet to planet, before he had come back and locked himself up in the Dantooine Jedi Enclave. Cities had rarely appealed to him – foggy, dirty, noisy things with poverty and pain and dark alleyways. But something about Iziz entranced him, some sort of strange beauty that could not be placed on most cities. Little did he know, every city had its own beauty, somewhere, locked until that special time of day. Like how Nar Shaddaa went up in a fiery sunset beauty at night, or how Taris turned blue and silver at sunrise. Now, he was enthralled by the heartbeat of Iziz, and was only drawn away when she stood behind him and pressed a hand to his arm.

"Mical," she repeated.

He looked back at her and offered her an apologetic smile. "Forgive me," he said softly. "I… was just enjoying the view."

She smiled absently, nodding. "I see," she murmured.

He studied her. The light of the city was split through the window, turning her skin some sort of pale gold, making her blond hair, now wet and loose, seem almost aglow. The light caught her blue eyes, turning them a strange green, and it complimented her features so that they appeared soft and young. The light… it made her beautiful. It made everything beautiful.

"Is there something you need of me?" Mical asked suddenly, correcting himself. He quickly bowed to her; she shook her head.

"I have asked you to stop bowing to me," she told him seriously as he stood again. She stared into his eyes and he fidgeted awkwardly, flushing and biting his lip.

"Forgive me," he said. "I forget."

"Mm, yes, you do," she said, her voice fading again as she looked away thoughtfully.

"Uh… R-Relina?"

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I wanted to ask you a favor."

"Absolutely," he said genuinely, smiling mildly.

"You're very talented," she began thoughtfully, moving around him to gaze out the window, too. He watched her silently, the light catching in his eyes and temporarily blinding him. He shifted, losing part of his face slightly in shadow, so that he could see. She looked back at him and smiled again. "You know more of sciences and past happenings and the human body… you know a lot, Mical. It isn't common, to have such a thirst for knowledge. Yet here you are."

Mical flushed modestly. "I can hardly compare to you," he offered. "O-Or Atton, or Kreia. Or even Mira, in some cases. Or Bao-Dur. I… have lived through wars, it is true, but I have never… seen war. I have never felt it."

"That is a good thing, Mical," she said with a sudden fierceness. "War turns people bad. It spoils them. Ruins them. You are one of the few whole people I have met in so long."

"Whole?" he echoed.

She nodded, eyes flickering with some strange, passionate conviction.

He decided not to press the matter further. Her previous flattery was gone to him. He took pride in his work, in his learning, in the many things there were to learn about the earths around him. From what he understood, that in no way made him feel whole. Though he always did what he felt was right, and never regretted it, something made him feel less whole. And he knew it had something to do with this war, with his company and the wounded worlds they had visited, and above all, her.

"But, Mical, I brought up your learning for a reason," she said, realizing that she was losing his interest. She closed the window; the background hum of speeders and city life went out instantly. She stared at him for a moment before the breath reached her lungs. "You need to heal me."

He frowned. That was all? He nodded, shrugged, and nodded again. "Of course," he said easily. He glanced about the room. Because they couldn't very well sleep in Mandalore's sorry excuse for a ship, they had rented out three small hotel rooms in Iziz. Mical's room was in the middle, with Relina on his left, and Mandalore on his right. She often visited him at night, after her nightmares, or even just to talk or milk medical supplies off of him. Mandalore found it amusing. Mical, however, thought it was rather serious.

She sighed, looking relieved. "Oh, thank you. You have no idea…"

"I'm sure I will," he said gently, pressing a hand to her shoulder and gently guiding her to the bed. She sat down, gazing up at him earnestly. "What hurts?" he asked, removing his gloves.

The room was still irritatingly hot. Relina's once-wet hair was now uncomfortably warm.

She shifted uncertainly and pressed her hand to her stomach. "I haven't been feeling so good," she said sincerely. "I get chills, cold sweats… I wake up a lot during the night, and my stomach always feels a little… hollow. You know? Empty, or knotted up so that there's no space left. I haven't been hungry."

He nodded thoughtfully, considering this. The symptoms sounded familiar. He had experienced them before, but only recently. "I think it may just be a bug," he said after a moment. "A bug that's going around locally. You are not the only one with these symptoms."

"You too?" she grumbled unhappily.

He gazed down at her affectionately. "Yeah," he said. "Would you like me to look anyway, just to be sure? Perhaps I might be able to find a way to help you."

She nodded, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Okay," she murmured. "Just… be gentle."

He laughed. "Of course," he said. "Don't worry."

"Don't diagnose me with anything too awful," she told him as he motioned for her to remove her jacket. She did so absently, hardly paying attention. Her eyes were fixed on the window and when he asked her to undo the top button of her blouse she didn't even move.

He sighed, and did it for her. He pressed his palm to the exposed flesh, feeling her heartbeat. He them tried her neck, and then her wrist. "Sounds even," he mumbled to himself, pushing back his bangs so that his vision was not obstructed. She more or less remained unresponsive to various tests. She had a bit of a fever, but that was probably from the summer heat. He gave her a small leaf from his lab station, which she chewed, and her fever went away. He healed up a few other things, all minor, and finally stepped back. "Feel any more symptoms?" he asked her.

She snapped out of her daydreaming and looked back to him uncertainly, re-buttoning her shirt, though she pressed her hand to her heart with some sort of strange moroseness. "Are you sure you healed everything?" she murmured sadly.

He wasn't sure whether to be worried or mildly offended. "Yes, I'm quite certain," he said. "I didn't find much wrong with you, I must admit. Most of the things I found were perfectly normal considering our situation, and I even fixed those. I cannot… I found no sign of a bug. Are you certain you're ill?"

Her eyes flashed. "Are you saying I'm lying?" she hissed.

He blinked. "What?"

"You have no idea how miserable I am!" she cried.

Stunned by the ferociousness of her attack, he recoiled slightly. He frowned uncertainly, biting his lip. "Relina…? Are you okay?"

"How dare you!"

He backed up a few paces as she lurched to her feet. He kept going until he felt the lab station table against his back.

Her voice was shrill. "I wake up every night and it hurts like hell! I keep drifting off, forgetting things! I feel achy inside all the time, no matter what I do, no matter how long I meditate or how hard I train! I keep turning up in rooms I don't want to be in! I keep losing things, little things, like coins or pazaak cards… I… I can't eat! I can't sleep! I can't sleep! I've been laying awake for the past week! Because… Because when I sleep, I dream, and I'll be damned if I think of you one more time I'm going to slaughter something!"

He stared blankly. She stood there, shoulders hunched, gasping for breath, her eyes burning in the Iziz city light. Slowly, cautiously, trembling and stunned, Mical squeaked, "Y-You… You've been thinking… t-thinking of me?"

She broke immediately. She sank abruptly to her knees and lost her face in her hands, sobbing. The tears glinted in the light as she shook and cried, all alone in the middle of the room.

Slowly, feeling slightly numb, Mical slid to the floor with his back against the lab station, one leg bent while the other was sprawled out somewhere to his left. His gaze never left her face, but he could think of nothing to say. Finally, he managed to get a fraction's worth of air in his lungs, and a tiny squeak came from his throat.

"Relina…"

She started to get up, but he hurriedly leaned forward and gripped her wrist. She sank down again, sobbing, mumbling something along the lines of, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said anything… Sorry… sorry… sorry…"

"You don't have to apologize," he told her gently, still gripping her wrist, and she obediently shuffled forward, towards him. "I understand."

She shook her head. "N-No," she cried, her voice broken by a violent hiccup. "I-I just r-ruined everything! O-Our team! I-I… ruined us!"

"What do you mean?" he asked, gently, trying to soothe her despite the confusion and overwhelming feelings that had suddenly riled up in him. He wanted to cry and scream and run away all at once… he wanted to shove her and hug her at the same time… the light from the window now seemed frustratingly bright.

She threw herself into his arms and lost her face in his chest. Not sure what to make of this, he cautiously patted her on the back. She trembled against him, sobbing hysterically. He understood the emotional rampage, but wasn't entirely sure why she couldn't hold it in like he was doing. It helped things remain safe, with harsh things unsaid.

When she didn't reply, he sighed, shifting uneasily, and murmured, "I don't understand."

"I-If the others e-ever… f-found out…" she wailed.

"You have done nothing wrong," he said. "You have done nothing worth regretting."

She looked up at him, confused. "B-But I…"

He shook his head. "Words," he said softly. "What are words?"

She didn't understand, though her violent hiccupping and sobbing had ended. She sniffled, wiping away a tear with her sleeve.

"You have done nothing. Speak not with words, but with actions. I have seen you do nothing wrong thus far."

Her lips trembled and she lost her face in her hands again.

Mical leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

She looked up at him helplessly. "But –"

"Words are words and words alone."

And so she kissed him.

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Author's Notes: I really like this piece. It's warm to me, and I always loved the exile/Mical pairing, though I had never found a fanfic about it (why not?). My only complaint with it is that I said, 'he' and 'she' way too much and the ending was a /little/ abrupt, but whatever. This is for Ewanlover64 and all other Mical fans that I have met. YAY MICAL.

Chapters for Beyond the Horizon and Savior Self will be up very soon, I swear.