#of course the idiot spyboyfriend is going to be concerned about everyone else when he's the one on death's door

[storyknitter]

Aftermath

Theron struggled to stay upright, putting one foot in front of the other through willpower alone. Thank the stars for Lana, propping him up and keeping him from tumbling over; he didn't trust his legs much right now, since they were trembling as though he'd just sprinted across half of Coruscant. His breath hitched and heat exploded in his chest. Oh fuck, this hurts. He tried to recall the meditation techniques that he’d learned from Master Zho a lifetime ago, but between the pain and worry, his focus was completely shot. He glanced around, searching for Vassanna. Thankfully, Lana appeared to be mostly unscathed, but what about Sanna? He had to find her.

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his racing heart, but all it did was make his chest feel like a thermal detonator had gone off in his lungs again. Idiot, he scolded himself. This was miserable; how in the hells had Sanna dealt with this on Asylum? He couldn't believe that she'd fought her way back to the Gravestone feeling like this. Granted, she'd had an evil ghost in her head that claimed to be helping her, but--

Oh shit. The Gravestone.

He stopped so abruptly that Lana’s momentum pulled him forward, nearly causing them both to tumble to the ground before regaining their footing.

Fucking hells, Zildrog. What happened with Zildrog? How much damage had the Order done to the Alliance? Had he still failed, after everything he'd done, everything he’d put them through? Lana was leading him to the stairway, to leave... without Sanna. Where was she? Did she ... No, she made it. She had to have made it. Icy fear settled in his chest, curling up next to the fiery pain. Sanna, where the hells are you? No no no, please be okay, don't be de--

“Oh, for Force’s sake, Theron, she is right there,” Lana said as she gestured off to the side, exasperation in her voice.

“Oh.” Relief flooded him as he caught sight of the Mirialan, speaking animatedly into her wrist comm and pacing a hole in the stone floor. “‘er armor’s diff’r’nt....” His inane observation drew a raised eyebrow from the blonde.

“Yes, she’s changed it. Clearly.” Lana’s dry retort brought a small smirk to his face -- he’d missed her, too. “As have you. Now, if you would be so kind as to quit mumbling so I can concentrate? Else you might not make it to the ship.”

Theron closed his mouth with an audible snap, keeping his snarky response to himself; he leaned a bit more on his friend, trying to keep his wobbly legs from giving out as his gaze drifted towards the former Jedi. The white of her armor made her eyes stand out more -- he definitely remembered that from Copero. Hells, how was she more beautiful than he’d remembered? It hadn’t been that long since he’d seen her last.

The world shifted beneath him and Theron’s knees hit the ground, pain shooting through his entire body. His vision went black for a moment and he couldn’t contain a moan. The only thing keeping him from completely crumpling to the floor was Lana's arm around his ribs. Hey, at least those aren't broken this time. Now c'mon, Shan. Breathe. You know how to do this. Focus. Remember. Master Zho always said-- His coherent thoughts were washed away by another wave of misery, ripping a groan out of his throat.

When the pain ebbed, he forced himself to take one slow, shallow breath, and then another. On his third breath, he caught a familiar scent, one he must have imagined thousands of times over the past months. Theron looked over, dazed, as Sanna slipped under his other arm, bracing his weight against her shoulders, her hand grasping his wrist. For a brief moment, he felt as though he was being pulled apart before he found himself standing again, supported by the two closest people he had to family. His legs conspired against him, however, and the pressure on his chest increased.

“Hold on, Theron, we’re almost there. Just hold on. Stay with us,” Sanna whispered softly in his ear and he felt a sharp pinch near his hip, missing the concerned glance the women shared over his head.

“Should feel better now,” Lana murmured and Theron sighed as the cool tingling of a kolto shot flowed through him, stifling the blaze in his chest to a more bearable heat.

Time lost all meaning -- he was seated now, propped up against... something, a wall of some sort. How and when he’d arrived at this place, he couldn’t say. That’s probably not great, he mused. Lana was still on his left, head bent and hands on his torso as she worked with the Force; Vassanna was on his right, taking off his boots and socks.

(There was a smart-ass comment begging to be made about her taking off his clothes, but he was fairly certain this was neither the time nor the place.)

Theron couldn’t stop staring at Sanna though, even if he’d wanted to. Sitting this close to her for the first time in far too many months, able to reach out and actually touch her... damn, he’d missed her. Guilt swept through him as he noticed the smudges below her eyes; he was sure they were darker than when he'd left. She seemed thinner, too, but it was hard to tell with her new armor.

He could see cracks in the Jedi mask she was wearing, in the smallest of frowns she wore and whatever she was mumbling under her breath. If only his implants were active, he might have been able to pick up what she was saying. Blinking hard in an attempt to remove the black spots from his vision, Theron focused on her lips, taking the old-fashioned route.

“--die. Not like this, not yet, don’t die, don’t die. It wasn't supposed to be like this, please don't die....”

Hope swelled in his heart. Perhaps Sanna could forgive him after all was said and done -- he just had to live long enough, just had to make it back home.

Her face blurred and he blinked again to bring her lovely violet eyes back into focus. It worked only briefly before she dissolved into shadows. No, don’t leave me here sweetheart. Please, please stay, he thought desperately, reaching for her. A grimace twisted his face and he groaned as he pulled at his wound, doubling over. Theron tried and failed -- again -- to slip into a meditative state, but every time he grasped hold of his focus, it slipped from his fingers, tugged away by the intense pain searing its way through his body. The heat was an odd contrast to the suddenly-cold temperature surrounding him and he shivered as the chilled, stale air seeped into his bones.

“Theron!” Sanna’s voice sounded strange to his ears -- how’d she get so far away? He was certain that he’d just felt her cool fingers on his. His heart lurched at the possibility that the GEMINI droid or Atrius had gotten their filthy hands on her.

No, wait. He'd shot Vinn -- and it was worth all the pain in the galaxy. That rotten bastard worshipped the monster who’d tormented Vassanna for years.

Theron had expected that ingratiating himself with Vinn and the Order would be difficult and repugnant at times, but he hadn’t expected one of the hardest things to be dealing with the near-constant monologuing. Atrius had two preferred topics, upon which he could blather for hours: how wonderful and amazing Valkorion had been for Zakuul, and how the Outlander -- the terrible, murderous, and evil person that she was -- had ruined everything. It had taken every bit of Theron’s self-control to play along and not punch him in the teeth as he so richly deserved.

Focus, Shan. Find Sanna. You have to find her before it’s too late. Dragging his eyes open, he was surprised to see her face mere centimeters from his, her eyes wide.

“San...” He tried again to reach for her, but his arm wouldn’t obey his commands. He needed to be sure that she was okay, that Lana was okay, but he couldn’t... couldn’t...

“Theron?”

Was that fear in her voice? Just be okay, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I can’t keep you safe. I tried, he thought. Her hands were blessedly cool on his face and he managed to meet her eyes again. I love you.

“Theron, please. Stay.”

I asked you first, he thought as she faded from his sight.

“No no no, just breathe, you’ll be alright. The kolto tank’s almost ready, just stay still,” Sanna pleaded, nearly ripping Theron’s other glove off so she could finish removing his grey duster; panic made her hands clumsy and slow, and they shook uncontrollably. “Please, Lana’s having a hard enough time keeping you -- Theron!” He had curled into a ball with a groan, knocking the Sith back slightly and disrupting her Force-healing. Sanna grabbed the spy’s shoulders and pulled him upright, doing her best to ignore the way he trembled and the pained moan that escaped his lips. She breathed a small sigh of relief as he opened his eyes, but they went unfocused almost immediately.

“Theron?” Fear welled up in her throat, threatening to drown her; her hands found his cheeks, scratchy with stubble. Oh stars, you're so pale. Please don’t go, not yet, not like this. His whiskey-colored eyes were unreadable as he pulled his gaze to hers, one corner of his mouth twitching up in a fleeting smile.

“Oh no, Theron, please. Stay.” His eyes fluttered closed and she gasped out a denial as he went limp, his head slumping forward. Without thinking, Sanna tilted his face up and pressed her lips to his. Pulling back, she frantically searched for a response, smothering a cry.

“That didn’t work. It always works in the holos,” she whispered, trembling. “Why didn’t it work? Theron? Theron wake up, open your eyes. Please.”

His Force-signature sputtered like a flame in the wind and he listed to the side, slipping against the durasteel wall. She kept one hand on his upper arm to keep him upright; her other hand rested tenderly on his cheek as she studied his face.

Lana's head was bowed in concentration as she wove the Force through Theron and his injury. Brushing her thumb along his cheek once more, Sanna moved her hand to the Sith’s shoulder in unspoken permission to take whatever Force energy was necessary to keep Theron alive.

No no no, not like this, not yet. We're supposed to have a different future than this, I saw it. Please do something, she begged the Force, anything! Not like this, please not--

Vassanna started as a large, furry hand came to rest on her shoulder. Bowdaar shooed her away from the spy and -- with a touch far gentler than one would expect of a Wookiee with “Boneshatterer” as an alias -- scooped Theron up at Lana's nod, carrying him to the waiting kolto tank.

Time seemed to grind to a halt, yet fly past at once. Lana slumped against her in exhaustion, and the two women sat on the floor, shaking and staring at the tank’s monitor as it beeped out data on Theron's vital signs. The Star Chaser’s medbay wasn’t the newest or sleekest, but -- like the rest of the ship -- “had it where it counts,” according to Captain Nabeshin.

As he stabilized in the kolto, Vassanna rested her head on Lana’s and whispered, “Thank you, Lana, for --” For healing him. For keeping him alive. Oh stars, let him be okay... “For everything.” The Sith’s response was a weak nod and an “of course” that was more hum than actual words.

“I suppose I should thank you for doing a practice run on Asylum for me,” Lana said. They exchanged a sad smile, remembering the frantic haze of those early months after they'd freed “the Outlander” from carbonite but before arriving on Odessen. “The healing itself was almost easier this time around, as I knew what was most effective. However, I didn't have to haul you around while trying to heal you -- and I believe you had some outside assistance as well.”

“‘Outside assistance.’ That’s one way to put it,” Sanna said, snorting inelegantly. “Why don’t you go take a rest?” she asked as her advisor attempted to conceal another yawn. “Maybe have a quick shower and then sleep. Recharge. It’s been a long and... interesting couple of days. Weeks. Months, if we’re being honest.”

“Normally, I’d argue with you,” Lana said with a sigh, “but I can hardly keep my eyes open. That was more difficult than I’m used to.” Glancing over at Theron, floating peacefully in the kolto, she gave Sanna a pointed look. “You should certainly do the same. Don’t just sit here; that’ll help no one.”

Meeting her golden eyes, Vassanna nodded. “I’ll find you if we need you. Rest well, Lana.”

The blonde dragged herself off the floor and, giving Sanna an encouraging pat on the shoulders, headed towards the crew’s quarters; fatigue was clear in her every movement. Sighing heavily, the Jedi settled into a light meditation in an attempt to fend off her own exhaustion.

“Nope!” Eli’anara piped up from the doorway, startling her cousin, before coming to stand in front of her. “You’re up for a shower an’ a nap too. Captain’s quarters are empty an’ your bag’s already there, waitin’ for you.”

“I’m not going to take your room, Ellie,” she said, shaking her head.

“‘Course you are. Wouldn’t wanna be rude and not take something that’s given to you.” Before Vassanna could protest further, Ellie held up her hand. “Just go, cuz. I’ll keep an eye on your Spy Guy...” she trailed off awkwardly. “If, uh... if he’s still yours? I mean, I’ll keep an eye on him regardless, I s’ppose.”

“I, umm... we didn’t really--” The Captain waved her off again.

“Eh, either way, just go. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens, I promise. You two can cross that bridge later; he’s clearly not going anywhere,” she said with a small smirk, jerking her thumb over her shoulder to point at the kolto bath.

Sanna walked to Ellie and Corey’s room in a haze, showering and changing into her casual clothing on autopilot. She laid down on the bed but couldn’t relax enough to meditate or sleep, despite her best efforts. Every time she closed her eyes, a scene with Theron would play out on the back of her eyelids: Nathema, Umbara, Iokath... even Yavin and Rishi. Giving up on rest with a sigh, she hauled herself out of bed and headed back to medbay.

Captain Nabeshin didn't seem surprised to see her walk through the door. “Couldn’t sleep?” she asked, and Vassanna shook her head, leaning against a table and folding her arms across her chest. “Mind keep replaying things on a loop and ya can’t seem to stop it?” The Jedi fixed her with a stare before nodding slightly. “Nah, I’m not spying on you or anything; you’re just not the first to nearly lose the one ya love, cousin. The waiting’s the worst.”

Ignoring the curiosity in Sanna’s gaze, Eli’anara continued her one-sided conversation. “Want a book? Holo-film? Distractions are good,” she said with a wink, placing a datapad in her cousin’s cool hands. “Read something. There are tons of novels on here. Don’t just sit and stare, you’ll go crazy.”

“Who’s to say I’m not already a little crazy?” Sanna asked. I’m the one who thought I could somehow get everyone in this galaxy to get along and finally have peace, she mused bitterly. That was stupid and crazy.

Ellie snorted. “Can’t help ya there, cuz.” She let out a wistful sigh, glancing towards the kolto tank. “Guess I won’t be sucker punching him yet for what he did to you, huh?”

“What? No!” Sanna leveled a serious look at her cousin, shaking her head. “No reprisals, from anyone. Theron was on our side the whole time.”

“You’re no fun at all, cousin. And I was kidding! ... Mostly.” Finally buckling under the no-nonsense glare from her cousin, Ellie sighed heavily. “Fiiiiine, I pinky-promise that won’t punch him. Unless he does something else stupid.”

Smirking as she walked out the door, the Captain pointed to a fluffy, comfortable-looking chair that Sanna was certain hadn’t been there before. “Enjoy your books,” she said over her shoulder.

Vassanna glanced at the monitor before forcing herself to sit on the edge of the chair and peruse the titles on the datapad, tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair. She scrolled through pages and pages of novels, eventually choosing one at random; swiping to the opening page, she read the first paragraph, then the second.

You mean everything to me.

Theron's words echoed in her mind and she blinked, trying to read the paragraphs again.

I’d do anything to protect you.

And again.

You know I love you, Sanna.

Her own words were the next to haunt her, thrown at Theron from a place of hurt and petty anger.

So you betrayed the Order too. You have quite a track record.

Shame and guilt filled her as she recalled how easily she’d allowed her emotions get the better of her. “Oh, stars -- the look on his face,” she whispered. Sanna glanced back down at the screen in a final attempt to read, but the words were blurry and she blinked away tears.

She stood in frustration, pacing and flinging the datapad onto the table near the kolto tank. It skittered into the neatly folded stack of Theron’s clothing before tipping the pile over, and Sanna snatched up the grey duster as it slipped to the floor.

Noticing the red patch on the shoulder, she huffed out a small chuckle. “Of course it has red on it. Have you ever owned a jacket that wasn’t red?” She shook her head with the tiniest of smiles and held the coat out to fold it. The smile disappeared and her breath caught in her throat as her eyes were drawn to the scorched hole in the back, just the size of a lightsaber blade.

“Oh Force, let him live,” she whispered. “Please let him live...” Sanna clutched the jacket to her chest as her gaze flew to the monitor on the kolto tank, the steady beeping and regular notifications it displayed reassuring her. She looked up at the ceiling of the medical bay, blinking furiously in an effort to contain the tears that threatened to overflow. After taking a deep breath to calm herself, then another, she gently folded Theron’s coat and placed it carefully next to the rest of his clothes, her fingers hovering on them longer than strictly necessary.

Resting her hands on the table, she hung her head as a sniffle escaped. Emotion, yet peace, she thought, taking a deep, shuddering breath before exhaling slowly. “Emotion, yet peace,” she murmured, breathing deeply again as her eyes closed. “Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death--” she stopped abruptly, unable to finish the phrase that was meant to offer comfort. Her eyes flew open and she pivoted, walking briskly across the room.

Vassanna stood helplessly in front of the kolto tank, fingers idly touching the transparisteel near Theron’s hand, as if to hold it. “You can't die yet. Please, you can't.” She paused, swallowing away the tremor in her voice before donning the mantle of Alliance Commander, hands clasped behind her back.

“Agent Shan. You will not die,” she bit out. “Do you hear me? That is a direct order from your commanding officer. If you disobey, I will not hesitate to toss you in the brig. Or perhaps I'll just stick you on desk duty for the next year. When we get home, there will be a serious discussion about mission parameters and approvals, as well as their consequences. Am I understood?” Her tone was crisp and brooked no argument, though Theron was in no position to do so.

She blinked in surprise -- had he actually nodded? No, don’t be ridiculous, she chided, shaking her head to refocus.

“Excellent. You may expect a notification on the meeting time when we arrive on Odessen.”

At that, the Mirialan shifted slightly, wilting as the façade of Alliance Commander faded away, leaving behind a heartbroken woman staring at her injured lover.

"Why?” she cried, hugging her arms to herself. “You hurt me and I'm so... so upset with you. Why couldn't you trust me? There had to have been a way to tell me, so I didn't have to... and I... and you....” Her words trailing off, Sanna rested her forehead against the kolto tank with a small thud, her eyes burning with tears she could no longer blink away. A sob shook her shoulders, then another. “It wasn't supposed to be like this, Theron.”

Closing her eyes and clapping her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry, she stood there for what felt like ages, reciting the Code and trying to calm down. Turning her back to the tank, she leaned against it and slid down to the floor, knees tucked to her chest.

She buried her face in her hands and wept for the first time since the weeks after Umbara.