STAR WARS: possible spoiler warning

[avali]

STAR WARS CALL OUT POST:
STEP 1: pick a muse
STEP 2: leave a comment with their name in the subject line, pictures, words or all of the above
STEP 3: profit

Comments

[myhandslipped]

[With the bright white, there's a ringing in his ears that starts low but slowly gets more shrill the louder it gets. 2187's voice is fuzz behind it, and all shadows in his vision are blobs of yellow and orange light. It's hot and hard to breathe, for a moment he believes he's just fallen into the surface of a sun - wonders if this is what death is like.

And then it's all darkness, and the weight of his head sinks into the hand cradling his jaw.

From there, it feels like an eternity. It's like his brain had orders from the Captain to show his every mistake in fine detail, to highlight everything that was wrong with him, to make it clear that he was bringing down his team and either he'd fall behind and die or he'd drag them down to die with him.

And he didn't want that to happen. He wanted this nightmare to end, he'd learned his lesson - he'd be better. Take training seriously. Become the stormtrooper the First Order wanted him to be, NEEDED him to be.

In the waking world, Slip was only unconscious for about half a minute before he snaps back awake, hyperventilating. Everything comes back down from white and burning yellow to the sterile construction that surrounded them, only intruded upon by the bunks in the room. One hand grips the bed dressings underneath him, the other flails desperate and wild to find somewhere to rest that's secure on his - friend is the first word that comes to mind and that's WRONG that's not how stormtroopers are supposed to thing - leader.

Now, more than ever, he needs the support. But he also feels now more than ever that he needs to be able to fix what's wrong with him alone, and it's so hard to figure out which is the right thing to choose.]

[reconditioning]

Easy. [It's the first word that comes out of his mouth once he realizes Slip's awake again, wrist caught by his arm and the other reaching to keep him steady where he's floundering in a panic. Some of the armor's gone already-- FN-2187 figured if he was passed out he wouldn't need it-- just the gauntlets and gloves, and he was just about to start on the collar before consciousness decided to interrupt.] Easy, easy, easy. I got you.

It's okay.

[myhandslipped]

[He doesn't come down from breathless heaving right away, but it's a start, and hearing his voice does visibly start to calm him. It's equal parts positive reaction to the comfort and something harsher in him telling him that he needs to stop being so dependent and grow up. Like if he was hearing his own voice through his helmet's filter, but in his head.

There's still a faint ringing in his ears but it seems like he can handle light a little bit better than the moments leading up to that brief interlude of unconsciousness.]

Don't know where I'd be without you. [His words are shaky between gasps for air but he still gets them out. It's true and he wants 2187 to know he's grateful.]

[reconditioning]

[Something about that-- his voice or his grip or the look on his face-- stops his breath for a half-beat. He doesn't know why, it just does. Like everything else between them, it happens outside of his own control. Outside of every order, every rule, everything they've ever been told.

FN-2187 smiles, tired as it is, it's real.] Same, buddy.

[He'd have no reason to fight or to care: which was always the thing that set him apart from just another cadet on the field, hammering away at every simulation without actually keeping his head in the game.] Come on, gotta get this armor off if you're gonna get enough sleep for PT.

[myhandslipped]

Hey, but if I sleep in it, I don't have to put it back on when I get up. [That smile is a blessing and it gives him enough vitality to crack another joke and return a smile of his own.

For now, it's better if he tries to ignore all the harshness running rampant in his head. Better to accept the help without a fuss. He knows well enough that fighting back would just make things more difficult later.

Even with the joke though, he doesn't waste any time reaching around the back of his neck to get the collar off, eyes fluttering shut to take a moment and enjoy how good the cool of the climate controlled air against his neck. If he didn't have to wear that thing ever again, he'd be happy.]

[reconditioning]

Yeah and your hygiene's gonna be off the charts. [2187 takes the hint: starts picking off the straps of Slip's pauldrons while he's busy with the insulating collar. A simple process, he's done it a thousand times before, but there's something nice about it all the same.

Progress.

He doesn't have to worry about Slip hitting the floor alone, no matter how tired he's going to be in a couple hours for it.] Phasma would wreck you for that alone, you know that, right?