The siren like sound of your alarm clock tore you out of your sleep. It took you a couple of seconds to realize where you were and recall the events of the last days.
Groaning quietly you got up from your bed in a painfully slow matter.
You changed into your medical gown, putting on a facemask and hairnet. It was better to hide your current state, as it was everything but nice to look at. Even like this it was not hard to see the exhaustion and tiredness still stuck to you. Those two and a half hours of sleep did not really help either.
No matter. You had an appointment in the prison wing after all. You had a feeling of what it might be about and prepared a portable medbag. Some part of you wondered whether or not wearing the stormtrooper's uniform would be better compared to the typical doctor's. It did not matter anyway given your current armour first had to be replaced. The state it was in was everything but acceptable.
You made your way through the hallways, only taking a short detour to give away your uniform and request a new one. They were rather lenient and did not ask many questions after seeing it.
The elevator made a faint ringing sound and the doors opened to the corridors to the prison wing. A part of you was a bit surprised that it looked just like any of the other corridors. Yes, there were far more guards present but other than that...pretty much the same.
Two stormtroopers went up to you, "MD-2442?"
"That's me."
One of them nodded and started walking further into the hallway, you followed them.
"We have a few people in need of your care. They are all prisoners, but we'll be here watching that they don't hurt you."
"Thank you. May I ask about the type of injuries they have sustained?"
"The usual, blaster shots, cuts and stuff. Anything normal that you'd get during battle."
"Are they from the recent mission?"
"Yes, they are, Ma'am."
You did not want to ask any further but you did not like that. Hux and Kylo had talked about the prisoners they took. Something about force sensitivity? You knew about the force, you knew what force sensitive meant and you did know about the dark and light side. However, you were not really sure WHAT they could do.
You'd seen Kylo, and you...also felt what he could do as he threw you around the room. That still did not mean that you understood every aspect, and you really did not like it. You preferred to know, so you'd be able to prepare.
But there was no way to change that now, was there? You just had to go with it. It was your job after all, even if taking care of injured prisoners was not something you'd usually do.
Had Hux or Kylo transferred you from ER to down here? If so...why exactly would they have done that? You'd liked your job, even if you did prefer to go into battle and serve as an active medic there.
They stopped and opened a door for you.
"He's in the worst condition as far as we know, he has a blaster wound on his leg."
"Thank you. I will still want to assess every prisoner myself. I'll also need additional security clearance to document their medical status."
"That should have already been taken care off."
You had a look at your data pad and swiped around a bit, searching for the right section. It was.
"That's lovely. Thank you."
You finally entered the room and started examining the prisoner's wound. Another combat medic had stopped the bleeding and done some very rough, if you were fully honest...bad stitching. It did not look like the wound was especially clean either.
Alright. Reopening, cleaning...easily done.
A groan from the man made you look up. He stared at you. His mood and emotions were not very hard to tell, it was pure hatred. Whether he disliked you or the stormtroopers more was not clear, perhaps his hate was directed at anyone that was part of the First Order.
"Don't worry, I feel the same way about you.", you said with an ice cold voice. The Resistance might think of themselves as heroes, their only goal being to liberate the galaxy from evil organisations such as the First Order. You could not disagree more. The Resistance and the First Order were incredibly alike, each of them wanted their own version of a government. Their methods were both enforced by violence. Neither of them were tolerant towards different opinions.
If you'd try to count the similarities between them using your fingers you would not have enough. But there was one major difference. The Resistance did all of those atrocities while still believing they were the 'good guys'. Hypocrisy.
Each of them had their benefits, with the First Order taking good care of its subjects by protecting their cities and significantly lowering the crime rates with their constant presence. The Resistance might also have benefits, but you did not really care about them. You'd already chosen your side and as stubborn as you were you'd not change it.
The man was still staring at you, his disgust increasing by each passing second.
"Aren't you going to introduce yourself?", he finally said, his voice was course and not very pleasant to your ears.
"Why?", you asked, getting a pair of scissors and starting to cut the horribly botched stitches open.
"It's good to know the names of your captors. Let me start. Mine's Raddal. I'm a Resistance pilot upon this beautiful ship.", his voice was friendly but the rest of his demeanor was not.
"My identification number is of no interest to you.", truth be told you were unsure whether or not you were even [b]allowed[/b] to tell him your number.
"Number? I thought only stormtroopers had those. You'd think that for joining the First Order voluntarily", he spat the last word out as if it was poison, "you'd atleast get to keep your names."
"It depends on where we are working. I am no chief resident, or a senior staff member.", you shook your head. The wound was incredibly dirty, the bleeding had been stopped but whoever had done this awful job had never heard anything about disinfection. A sigh escaped you as you got to working on it.
The rest of your examination and treatment with him went quiet. He was in pain and trying to keep himself together and you were cleaning and stitching.
You checked upon the others, neither of them had any bad wounds that needed stitching. A bit of antibacterial cream here and there, some bandages...it was fine.
As you got to the last one your examination was interrupted by screaming and shouting coming from a room further down the hall.
You looked at the stormtroopers, trying to see whether or not they'd give an explanation but they were just staring at each other. They were uncomfortable. No, not just that, afraid.
Throwing the gloves away you stuck your head out of the door. The room where the noise was coming from was illuminated in a bright red light, you immediately knew the source off. Why was Kylo Ren using his lightsaber in there? On a prisoner?
You looked at the stormtrooper to your right, tilting your head sideways. He shook his head from side to side, barely enough to notice. You nodded.
That was enough wordless conversation. Each of you perfectly understood and you went back, finishing up your patient.
He was no pilot and unlike some others not very talkative. He constantly stared at you, making you more uncomfortable than some of the others' comments. It was also almost impossible to ignore.
You wanted to say something to him when a door opened and you could hear Kylo Ren stomp outside. There it was again, that presence of his just weighing you down.
"What the-", your patient suddenly said, moving backwards against the wall.
"Room 57 needs your attention. Now."
You immediately got up and stormed past the Supreme Leader. Almost running into him, if it would not have been for Kylo turning instinctively to the side.
He was right. The room certainly needed attention, not just the prisoner. Kylo had completely destroyed the walls with his lightsaber, parts of the metal were still glowing orange.
The prisoner, not glowing orange, was hanging in his restraints while is arms and legs were jerking abnormally. A seizure. How great.
"Release him!", you shouted towards the stormtroopers and the man fell onto you, throwing you both to the ground. One of the stormtroopers pulled you out from under him. Waiting for the man on the floor to stop moving you started to count.
It did not take that long, just around half a minute. You walked over to him and turned him towards his side, making sure that he would not suffocate on his tongue or saliva. He was fine, mostly. The only big injury being on the back of his head. From the bruising around it looked to be a few days old.
"We're gonna wait for him to wake up, I'm gonna take another look and then I think you can get him back to his cell. Do any of the other prisoners know him?"
You could hear a distorted, cold laugh from Kylo Ren's direction.
"They do. I doubt they'll talk."
"Does not matter.", you stepped out of the way as he got carried to his cell, "I am pretty certain it's because of a concussion. It seemed to have been a pretty bad one...that, stress...lack of sleep and...", you pointed towards the lightsaber now peacefully attached to Kylo Ren's belt, "flashes of light...all coming together...it was bound to happen."
The Supreme leader's anger was still lingering in the air but you ignored it as much as possible. Something else had caught your attention.
"Oh come on.", your voice was quiet with a hint of anger. With a few quick steps you were by Kylo Ren's side. Him staring down at you, still slightly trembling from his outburst a mere minute ago would have usually gotten you to stay as far away as possible and hide. Not now though. Blood on black clothing was not very easy to tell, but with the light shining a certain way you could see the fresh, wet stains.
"Sir.", you looked up towards him, again that feeling of just wanting to disappear, "Sir you have torn open your stitches. You should be resting! Not...not...", you stepped back and waved your arms, helplessly pointing at the destroyed walls, "Not doing whatever you were doing there! Don't do that with fresh wounds!"
His anger was still all too present, if not getting worse. The two stormtroopers were nowhere to be found either. Great.
You stared at Kylo, who was currently trying to stop his hands from trembling by clenching them into fists. No, no, no, no, no! You remembered the fear the stormtroopers had felt earlier. This was Kylo Ren, the most feared man of the galaxy and you had just raised your voice at him...while he was angry. Atleast death by lightsaber was over quick?
Looking over at the destroyed wall you took a deep breath to calm yourself down first. Slowly you turned back around and walked over to him.
"I am sorry for raising my voice.", you started, "I am just concerned. You...you are important. You are the most important man of the First Order, without you...we'd be nothing. You got us this far in the first place...but...that's why you should be watching out more for yourself, Sir. We need you. Please don't hurt yourself again.", your voice was almost pleading. You meant every word of what you'd said. You cared for him, not just as your superior or what he stood for. He was your patient and apart from him being reckless and throwing you against things he'd been one of the best.
He stared down at you, his hands now resting by his side. No fists anymore, good. His anger had disappeared mostly as well. Finally, after what felt like hours he nodded and turned to walk back to the elevator.
A sigh of relief escaped you and immediately after a quiet wince of pain. The prisoner falling down on you certainly hadn't helped your own recovery.
"Are you coming?", Kylo Ren's robotic voice sounded from a few meters before you.
"What? Yes, of course, Sir.", you said quickly and ran behind him, only barely able to keep up with his large steps.
When you got back to his personal medbay he once again went through the door on the left, "Get what you need. I'll be waiting.", he was already gone before you could even reply with your usual: 'Yes, Sir'
You quickly grabbed your stuff and joined him.
The door opened, revealing a bedroom. It was sterile. The only personal belongings were his destroyed robes thrown carelessly onto a chair. From the few times you had to care for officers you knew that this one was not much different. It was bigger, by a lot. It also seemed to have a few additional rooms towards the sides...but other than that? Nothing, the same. Perhaps even less personal than the ones inhabited by staff.
Kylo's mask was sitting on a huge table in the middle of the room. But where was its owner? You looked around. Nope, not present. Shrugging your shoulders you went over towards said table and prepared your stuff.
You could see some movement out of the corner of your eye and turned around quickly. Kylo was standing next to his bed, shock and confusion written over his face. His face that you could finally see. You'd have appreciated it far more if it was not for you suddenly not being able to move anymore. Only now you noticed his stretched out hand, directed at you.
He lowered it quickly and stepped over towards you just as fast.
"Why did you sneak up on me?", the familiar sound of his robotic voice was gone, now replaced with a quite pleasant deep one.
"I-I-I didn't, Sir!", you got out and instinctively stepped backwards, crashing against the table. His presence weighed you down even more than usual, only worsened by him towering over you.
He stared down at you, confused by...something, but you could not tell what exactly. Atleast now you could finally read his facial expressions. You would have admired his handsome face if it would not have been for the fear making you just as motionless as Kylo had done a few seconds before.
He eventually stepped back and walked over towards the bed, taking a seat. You bit your tongue to stop your teeth from clattering. You might have startled him by just entering his room but he had certainly scared you more.
"Calm down. I won't throw you across the room again.", his words broke the uncomfortable silence between you two. He started to get rid of his shirt.
"Yes, Sir...I will, Sir.", you said quietly. He was struggling to get out of it, hindered by his injuries and you stepped over to help him.
You carefully removed it, making sure not to hurt him in the process, your hands slightly trembling.
You folded his shirt neatly and placed it next to him before walking back to the table to get new bandages and gloves.
His dark eyes were following your every move, alternating between your working hands and face. Was he trying to make sure that you would not startle him again? No matter what he was doing, it did not help you. If anything, it hindered you from working properly. It was anyway odd for you, a mere combat medic to get to see the face behind the infamous mask. While you felt proud and quite flattered...you always put your work before personal matters, looking at someone's face just for the sake of doing so was definitely one of them.
As you uncovered his wounds you finally managed to ignore him. The fluid draining out of them was stained red, not just pink, no...it was red. Bloody. Just how it should not be. You sighed loudly and carefully cleaned it away to get a better look. A few of the stitches had been ripped out, just as you had suspected. You stared up into those jet black eyes.
"I'm going to have to stitch those together again, Sir."
He groaned and let himself fall down on the bed, now half lying on it.
"Do it then."
"On...your bed?"
"Yes."
You blinked slowly and shrugged. His decision, not yours. Also his eventual blood stains.
Neither of you talked while you fixed his stitches, he did not seem like the talkative kind and you did not know whether or not it would be appropriate to start some small talk with the Supreme Leader. What would it be about anyway? The weather in space? Oh how lovely the stars were last night! Did you see those? Oh, yes, sure there was a massive sandstorm on that one planet that is only visible with binoculars from sector 6's window. Yes, I know it was not as impressive as this big stone in the shape of a duck passing last night.
You peeked over at his face. He was just staring at the ceiling. Was he even the type to notice duck shaped stones? He probably didn't. He probably only noticed lightsaber shaped ones. Or Stardestroyer shaped ones. Or-
"I can sense your amusement. Is there something on my face?"
You in turn now resembled a ripe tomato. How glad you were that your facemask hid atleast half of your head.
"No, nothing Sir, I am sorry.", you said quickly and quickly fumbled around with the medbag to get a sterile bandage.
"Is it my whole face then, what amused you?"
"No, Sir, of course not, Sir. I just thought of something funny. It was unrelated to you.", you stopped, "I mean, it was unrelated to your face. Forgive me, Sir."
"But not to me?"
You took a short look at his face. He did not seem to be angry at you 'having fun' while patching him up. On the contrary, he seemed to be rather amused by your cheerful attitude. An attitude that you were sure you had not displayed outwardly. Starting to bandage his freshly stitched wounds you took a deep breath.
"I was just thinking of something silly, Sir. Something about duck shaped asteroids."
He nodded, "Asteroids? It is hard to read you...?", he looked at you, expecting you to state your name.
"MD-2442.", what did he mean with 'read you'? How read? Your knowledge in the force was not nearly enough to understand everything it was capable of doing. Had he read your thoughts? He'd said that he'd only felt your amusement, not...not everything. And if he'd fully read your thoughts he for sure would not have enquired further, would he?
"Your identification number? I guess that is sufficient, I would have preferred your name, I'm just going to call you 'Doc' then.", he said, somehow satisfied with his, if you were fully honest, lacking creativity.
"Could you sit up, please, Sir?", you asked, "I'm almost done, just have to bandage you up."
He did as you said and you finished everything. You took your stuff from his bed and stood up, placing your hands on your hips.
"Do not strain yourself anymore. It's really not good if you rip those open. I do not want you to get infected wounds, or for it to take longer than it already does. Please?"
He looked up to you from his seat on the bed. Something about it made him look like a stubborn teenager. A handsome stubborn teenager, but still a teenager.
"Sir? Don't strain yourself. Please.", you said again, smiling under your mask before realizing he could not in fact see it.
"Fine. I will. You are dismissed for today, Doc. I'll need you tomorrow with the prisoners again. I don't want them to die.", he
"Of course, Sir."