Private Go to Sleep [Cybelle x Velda]

[Cybelle Sal-Soren]

CYBELLE SAL-SOREN

LOCATION: The Shore • TAGS: Velda Nar-Donna • STATUS: ...Confused, hurting, scared.

"Brandyn…I don't know if you're getting these…But please, call. Anything."

Another message left. Probably left into the universe where no one would ever hear it. Her hand with her comm trembled. She couldn't feel him. Not in the sense that he wasn't there…But in the sense of knowing he was. But, knowing she was blocked from him and their child. He had risen walls so high that she couldn't break through. "Please come home…"

"I…"

I love you.

Her heart hurt.

Her eyes hurt.

In the darkness of the medical ward at the Shore, the sting of crying her eyes out made it hard to open them. They were red-rimmed and glassy, with eyelids that were entirely raw from being rubbed. But…She barely felt it. Cybelle had always thought she understood loneliness. She had endured absence, uncertainty, and the peculiar misery of loving someone who seemed determined to keep an entire galaxy between them.

She had spent countless nights waiting for Brandyn to come home. Worrying over imagined wounds she couldn't tend and battles that she couldn't fight…But this was something else entirely. There was no comfort in trying to guess where he had gone or in trying to understand why—Why, he had taken Gianna away from her.

Why he had…

Hurt her. Left her.

Her mind couldn't reconcile the two things, no matter how many times she replayed that night in her head. Brandyn had always been a good man. Perhaps not a perfect one, but she had never asked for or expected perfection. She had only ever wanted him to love her, to trust her, and to believe that the woman he married would never willingly hurt him.

Yet…He had looked through her. As if she were a stranger. Not his wife, not his family.

She had wept her heart out on the floor of a place that had brought them all such pain. It overshadowed her memories of playing hide-and-seek in the gardens. Of chattering like a twittering bird to Teyla Sal-Soren as if she hadn't had anything better to do. It was the home she had always craved, the family she had always wanted to be part of. But now?

It felt like torture. Her own…personal hell.

The discovery that another woman wore her face should have been enough to occupy her every thought. Someone with her eyes, her voice, and perhaps even her memories. Someone found at Brandyn's feet who claimed to be his wife with the same conviction that she herself possessed. The very notion was grotesque, and the more she considered it, the more questions started to form. How long had this other woman existed? Where had she come from? What did she want with Brandyn? With Gianna?

And why had her existence meant that Cybelle was the one left behind?

The slender brunette lowered her gaze to a blanket that had been taken from the underground nursery. Her fingers absently traced the embroidered edges. She recognized the pattern and small blue flowers, mixed sparingly with gold thread. They had never wanted for anything monetarily, but Cybelle often personalized their clothing.

She had sewn these a thousand times…

Cybelle had tried to be reasonable…Tried to explain. Tried to endure distrustful eyes and endless questions…But how did one prove they were themselves when their doppelganger had the same answers?

Her stomach twisted…There was something deeply unsettling about the possibility that every precious memory she possessed might also belong to someone else. She had always considered them proof of a life well lived, of love earned. Now, she found herself wondering whether they meant anything at all. If she was even…Real at all?

What if she was the imposter?

The little Hapani gathered up the newborn blanket to her chest, feeling her eyes sting, and her head shook. "No…" , her voice cracked, ruined from doing nothing but cry and breathe. She hadn't been able to stomach food and liquids, and it was starting to show. "No."

"I am Cybelle. I am Cybelle Sal-Soren…I-I am."

But there was no one there to hear her.

Whatever that other woman was, Cybelle knew in her heart that she had carried Gianna. She knew that she had married Brandyn. She knew that he loved her. That she loved him. These were her memories. Weren't they?

Her small face crumbled before she could stop it. That was the cruelest thing…Doubt. Not because she truly believed that she wasn't herself, but because someone had made the impossible seem entirely plausible enough that her husband had tried to...

Tried to kill her. Run away from her. As if she were a danger…A monster.

Before she knew what she was doing, she slipped out of bed, pulling an intravenous stand with her. Her other self had been far more volatile when they were brought in, and her doppelganger had been kept in quarantine. Cybelle had agreed not to leave until her adoptive mother came home to assess them, but there were no locks on her doors. The Jedi Master had come and gone.

They were the same, down to a molecular level, but there was something different about the other one that no one could really nail down. It couldn't be measured with science, but it was something every Jedi Healer seemed to feel. An absence, an emptiness, that grew stronger when Cybelle grew weaker. They were connected…But how?

The woman was already facing the observation window when Cybelle approached. Eerily, she never seemed to sleep at all. Silence reigned between them for a long moment until she finally broke it. Unable to stand it any longer. "…Who are you?"

"Cybelle Sal-Soren."

The reply was given without an ounce of hesitation. Cybelle frowned…But didn't contradict it. She had no desire to hurt someone who might be as confused by their shared existence as she was. Perhaps her doppelganger was innocent of any wrongdoing, and they were just victims of circumstance. Perhaps she had ALSO just lost a husband and child of her own. The possibility deserved consideration, however unwelcome it might be. "Where did we grow up?"

"Hapes…Then Naboo. The Ee'everwest Estate and then…Here. The Shore."

"Who married Brandyn and I?"

"Brianna."

"…What happened on Exegol?"

"We died."

And so it went…Question after question. Asked and answered, correctly. Eventually they ran out, and Cybelle could feel herself starting to break again. How could she know all these things? Secrets and fears that she had only ever shared with her husband? Her breathing quickened, but the doppelganger moved abruptly. Too quickly for her eyes to follow, but she was suddenly pressed against the glass. "You look absolutely dreadful…"

Doubly insulting—When the woman in containment appeared to be the picture of health. Apparently, having their hearts crushed only left her in the infirmary for days. Cybelle didn't respond to what felt like an insult and bit her lip. Glancing down at the floor.

"Don't do that. Don't cry…You look like our daughter when you cry."

There was something pitying in those words that made tears well up and overflow from Cybelle regardless. Her heart wrenched at being compared to the daughter that she hadn't even been allowed to see or hold. "...Why? Why are you doing this?"

"Because you couldn't. He will lose control, as he did with us. It's only a matter of time."

"What's only a matter of time?"

"Before he kills her…Just like Teyla."

Cybelle froze…This mirror-image of herself wasn't talking about his mother. She was referring to the daughter they had met through a weak spot in the Force while lost in a cave system. But—How could she know about that? "No…N-No, he would never."

The dark-haired woman behind the glass gave her an incredulous look. Again, it seemed pitying. As if Cybelle were a child believing things that didn't exist. "Right."

"And he would never try to kill us, either. He would never take our heart in his hand…", she paused, lifting her hand, before forming a fist for emphasis. Her expression was a little off. She wasn't angry…But almost complimentary. "…And squeeze."

The memory of the pain returned, his expression, her shock when she realized where the agony came from. Her disbelief. She still didn't believe it was something Brandyn had intended to do, and her head shook violently in denial. So hard that the tears flew off her cheeks…That her neck ached from the sudden snap. "You don't know what happened."

"Oh, I know exactly what happened to our husband. So do you."

"No—"

"Hush. You've done enough. You've been through enough…I can see what you can't. I can do what you won't. I am what Brandyn needs, and I am also strong enough to protect our daughter. All you need to do…", her eyes drifted toward the medicine cabinet, "…Is sleep."

"Sleep—?"

There was a creeping horror in Cybelle that felt like it was setting the back of her neck on fire. Watching the reflection of compassion that stared back at her made her feel incredibly uneasy. She hadn't said it…But somehow, Cybelle knew what she meant. The brunette backed away from the observation portal and nearly tripped over the repulsorlift stand that held her medication line in place. "Stay away from me—Stay away from us."

"Oh…But darling…You came to me. So will he."

Cybelle couldn't listen to it anymore and left the room while her head spun in circles. She was breathing too fast, and it made her feel faint—making the hallway tilt. She was on her backside, leaning against the wall before she knew it. Knees drawn up to her chest. Shaking.

She couldn't see the other version of herself anymore, but she could feel her eyes.

Could she see her through the door?

Cybelle spent a long time trying to calm down. Longer than she might have wanted to admit. As long as her other self was locked up tight, she couldn't hurt her or anyone else. But Cy…She couldn't stay here. She couldn't just do nothing.

Carefully, she turned on her comm again. This time… reaching out for an old friend who had always been good to her. Someone who had taught her how to enjoy the little things and helped her survive when Brandyn had been on house arrest. Someone who had never judged her for her insecurities—But had always listened. "…Vee…"

"I—"

What could she say? How did she explain this?

"If you're near Naboo…Can you come to the Shore? I'm…"

She swallowed hard, trying not to break down. As always…Trying to be strong, even when she had no strength left. "I'm in trouble…I don't—"

Know how to explain. Her voice would be miserable through the comm, as if the sky had fallen, and she was teetering on the edge of something terrible.

"I don't know what to do…I think I'm losing my mind. Everything is wrong…Please…"

Her voice cracked.

"Please help me."

— There are pieces of me that know things I do not. —​