The number one drama causer is at it again. He's not really sorry.

[nouskaiananki]

Who: Vader
What: Self-surgery, healing, dragging people into his mess
When: Early month, prior to the mini-missions
Where: A room in a rent-by-the-day building in the Magitech, Obi-Wan's hut, probably other places as things develop
Content Warnings: self-surgery, blood (lots of blood), to be updated as needed



Given the chip implanted into them was at the base of their skulls, what it did, and the experiences he had with implanted chips - both in his men and in himself - it probably shouldn't surprise anyone he decided to handle it himself.

Not that he hasn't taken done preparations. A field surgery kit, mirrors, some kind of healing gel and bandages, a tarp on the floor under a cheap chair, and furniture moved away. The room was paid for a couple of days. After thinking it over before he started, he sent a text message to Padmé and a message to Obi-Wan.

Then he washed his hands, the back of his head and his neck, and sat in the chair, prepared so the mirrors allowed him to see the back of his head and neck clearly, even when his hands were in the way. And started cutting. Peeling. The scar tissue was thick, tough, and hard to pull apart. But pull it apart he did, because he didn't want to cut nerves or large blood vessels - there wasn't a bacta tank here. It took time, to get down to muscle, to scrap it away from the implants in his spine without harming his implants or causing too much muscle damage (what he thought was too much anyway).

He didn't winch or flinch, only swore when a blade broke. Angerly threw the disposable ones across the room and set a blade into the reusable ones.

Comments

[forcecalls]

He's not really sure how he expects her to respond to that. It almost feels strange to say, when all of this is on the heels of him being upset enough to have blocked her out. But he doesn't mind. He would rather make sure she was at least relatively okay before he leaves her alone again.

He nods. "I can do that." A quick, meaningful glance behind her; she'll have to move out of the doorway if she wants him to come in.

[jedied]

It's like she's existing in slow-motion. Everything feels distant, including her own reactions, but she moves aside so that he can follow her in. The apartment space is in a state of organized chaos, with half-dissasembled projects she's been working on taking up most of the available spaces to sit.

"I've been helping some people find parts... have you met the Doctor? He has a time machine. Had. A time machine. And space. I'll introduce you."

She's babbling and she knows it, but she hadn't intended on inviting him in here anytime soon. Or anyone, really. She likes her space how it is, and that usually means free of other people.

"I'll just get changed. Give me a minute?"

She might as well not faceplant onto the nearest surface in the same clothes she's worn all day, though the temptation is there. Maybe if she changes out of these clothes she'll feel less like climbing out of her own skin. Or maybe the instant she's behind a closed door she'll find a soft object to scream into. It's honestly anybody's guess at this point.

[forcecalls]

He has, in fact, not met the Doctor. Nor is he entirely sure what she's talking about with the time machine, though that sounds intriguing. He recognizes the babbling for what it is and doesn't try to ask any questions about that right now.

He gives a nod in reply to her request. "I'll be here." By which he means casually examining the half-done projects to see if he can figure out what she was doing with any of them while he waits for her to come back.

[jedied]

She emerges from her room a short while later, looking at least marginally more like someone who's simply tired rather than emotionally shattered. She's changed into a soft shirt and matching sleep pants, taken her hair down, and splashed water on her face until she couldn't see the telltale tear-streaks and faint redness about her eyes from having been in tears or close to them for however long it's been.

She seems a little more present when she comes back out, present enough to feel vaguely embarrassed by her own reactions and how gentle Kylo's being with her in response. Hadn't he been angry with her? Hadn't she been angry with him? Her world's shifted so abruptly that she can't quite find her way back to her prior sense of equilibrium, and it doesn't matter this instant, anyway.

"There's a chair without any stuff on it in the bedroom. You won't have to stay long."

If she can get her mind to be silent, that is. She's half-asleep on her feet, though, and the only thing loud thoughts are likely to do is lead her into some weirder than usual dreams. She leads the way back into her bedroom, which is slightly less chaotic than the front room. Most of the random mechanical parts have been traded for books of all kinds, stacked in small piles according to a system only Rey can quite decipher. She moves some of them off her bed and flops onto it somewhat gracelessly, too tired to care about much beyond being asleep soon.

[forcecalls]

Whatever anger he'd had toward her will likely flare again the next time she says something positive about Luke, but for now, it's been entirely forgotten. He has more sympathy than she even knows for the confusion she's dealing with right now, given his own conversation with Palpatine and how much of his entire life it had called into question.

He follows, settling into the chair in question. There's a tinge of awkwardness to the ensuing silence. Kylo isn't searching Rey's thoughts, but he can feel them spinning in a way that hardly qualifies as restful. He's not certain what he can do about that beyond sitting here and trying not to keep her awake with his own thoughts.

[jedied]

His presence does help, in that every time she feels herself want to panic again she lets herself lean into her awareness of him, instead. Of how he feels to her in the Force. She's not sure how it's possible that he's begun to feel safe to her, but if she dwells upon the strangeness of it too long it starts to circle back around to panic.

She tries her best, remembers how she's meant to breathe during her meditation. Tries to just let sleep win as it had just a little earlier. But after a little while of getting no closer to unconsciousness she sits up with a small huff.

"I'm sorry. I'd ask you to talk about something monotonous, like -- I don't know, First Order intelligence meetings or the historical differences between the lightsaber forms, but I suspect then we'd both be awake and bored."

There's a trace of humor in it again, now that she's starting to let herself accept that she doesn't have to fight anything this instant, and that maybe she'll never have to fight this strange bond between them.

"Could you put me to sleep again like you did on Takodana? I won't resist."

[forcecalls]

First Order meetings would be an exceptionally boring topic to prattle on about. The history of lightsaber forms, somewhat less so, but only marginally, and it would likely defeat the purpose if he got too far into related topics he actually found interesting. Not that she'd meant the suggestion seriously in the first place.

He's not expecting her to ask for the solution she lands on. "I don't see why I couldn't." The only thing stopping him would be her own will battling against it. "You're sure?"

[jedied]

"Yes."

Her reply is immediate and decisive. If it works, she doesn't have to spend another minute in her present state, and when she wakes up she'll at least only be dealing with the brain-breaking information she's just been presented with and not physical exhaustion on top of it. Even if it's not the best sleep of her life, it'll be better than the alternative.

"I'm sure. I remember it didn't hurt; I just want to sleep."

[forcecalls]

"Alright." He stands, moving to the edge of the bed, close enough to touch her, though he doesn't yet. One hand raises to pull the wakefulness from her as he had once before. The other moves to catch her as she falls asleep and lay her down gently, presuming this works.

[jedied]

She shuts her eyes in anticipation, feeling only a moment of instinctual resistance before she can reassure herself that it's all right to let go. She's safe with him. Nothing more awful than what she's already trying to wrap her mind around is going to be waiting for her on the other side of sleep.

Then, with a soft sigh of gratitude, she slips into sleep that, if not entirely dreamless, will at least be relatively peaceful.

[forcecalls]

He's relieved that it works, and he hopes that sleep will help her process any of what she's learned today. A part of him is tempted to stay until she wakes, but that isn't what she'd asked, and he does understand the need to have some time alone in the wake of that news.

He makes sure she's comfortable, adjusting her position as she falls, and pulling a light blanket over her after. And then he leaves, like he said he would.