Private Road to Recovery

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

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Wearing: xxx
Equipment: Standard Lightsaber
Location: NJO Medical Frigate
Tag: John Locke Cybelle Sal-Soren


Days had passed since the events within The New Way's secret labs. Brandyn's days had been filled to the brim. Debriefing had pulled him away from his post, but only for as long as absolutely necessary. There had been much discussion about the staff from the lab that had been pulled in for interrogation. They were undoubtedly getting the full treatment from Valere. Brandyn was glad he was not there to see it.

"She hasn't woken up yet," came the compassionately programmed voice of the medical droid. It had just left the room that Brandyn was walking towards, the room he considered his post.

"Thanks," Brandyn said. It had become a formality now as he came and went from her bedside.

"It also seems you have been relieved of your obligations," the droid said. The words caused Brandyn to stop, and flick his chin to the side in surprise.

"What does that mean?" Brandyn said, before pushing past the droid towards the room.

"Her family has arrived. You are likely no longer needed to provide moral support," came the calm response from behind the Jedi.

A feeling of concern began to rise, protectiveness, at not knowing who was there in her room. That feeling of concern quickly faded, or rather morphed, when he saw the man sitting at Cybelle's side.

"Mr. Locke."

It wasn't really a surprise that he was here, but seeing John sitting in the chair that Brandyn had made his home over the past couple of days...perhaps he wasn't needed anymore? Now he needed permission to stay? What was he...to her...to her parents? Just a friend, probably.

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[John Locke]

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Wearing: No points for guessing...a suit​

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NJO Medical Frigate​

Tagging: Brandyn Sal-Soren | Cybelle Sal-Soren
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There was something about a hospital, something different. With the doors closed you could have been at the heart of the urban sprawl of Coruscant, or somewhere in the farthest reaches of the Outer Rim. There was a uniformity to them, a sameness to the décor the professionalism of the staff. The room he was sitting in could easily have been lifted from any hospital anywhere in the galaxy.

From any hospital in his memory.

There were times when John remembered the accident, the life that went before it as if it belonged to someone else. So much had changed that day, it was as if he’d woken into a new life, he’d woken up as someone else.

Woken up in a hospital not so different from this one.

Sometimes it felt like he’d never woken up at all, still trapped in these clean sterile walls, that everything that had happened since was a dream. Was a nightmare.

A hand reached out, brushing an errant strand of hair away from Cybelle’s face as the dark-haired man sat forward in his chair, eyes looking at the young Jedi, but not really seeing her here. The laughter, the joy that characterized the brunette was gone, absent leaving her looking more like a doll. John could look at her and see that shout of exuberance when she had finally managed to get her first repulsor engine working, that smile on her face when the smells of dinner would start to drift from the kitchen. The excitement for her training, the sheer joy when she’d passed the trials to become a Jedi Knight.

It was all gone, leaving a blank canvas, the very essence of the girl, the spirit of what made her who she was had fled. The doctors had assured him that she would be alright, that she just needed time and care to wake up.

Doctors had told him he’d never walk again, or have much of a life outside of a bactatube.

They’d been wrong then...what if they were wrong now too?

What if she didn’t wake up from this, from whatever had been done to her.

It was that fear that existed in the back of his mind everytime he saw Cybelle or Gianna leaving on a mission. What if this time they didn’t come back? What if this time something happened? Those whispers in the dark corners of his mind, the icy claws of fear running up his back.

Those voices weren’t so quiet now. They were screaming, songs of loss and anger, of fear and betrayal. The beat of drums that could drown out the galaxy, the beat of his heart in his years as the man reached out to brush his fingers against the back of her hand.

“I brought some Lemon bars for you Bella, don’t worry I didn’t make them. I don’t think I’m allowed anywhere near the baking anymore, and I’m not even the one who ate them.”

A fond smile touched John’s lips for a moment before he looked down.

“You just need to wake up, otherwise I’m going to give all the treats to the nurses and you won’t get any. Please.”

She wasn’t his daughter, not in any government database, not according to any court of law, but he’d watched her grow from a scared gangly limb child into a confident young woman. He’d always treated her like a daughter, and she’d always responded in the same way. There was what people said, and what the heart knew to be true, and she was his child in everyway that mattered. Like every parent before and after, like every parent that had ever existed. Torn between wanting to protect them and letting your child live their own lives, to get hurt and to fail and grow.

To think that maybe you could have done something differently could have done something more.

John was used to wearing masks, to presenting the larger than life image as the businessman, the inventor. The man who could wrestle the galaxy into submission. Yet now, here in this room he felt raw, small and weak.

Tired. So tired.

He heard the door creak open, a voice questioning that didn’t belong to the nurse who had been stopping by. Sad dark eyes flicked up for a moment before hardening. Those masks snapping back into place as his hand clenched into a fist on his lap.

“Mr Sal-Soren.”

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[Cybelle Sal-Soren]

Wearing: Hospital Gown
Location: NJO Medical Frigate
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren | John Locke

Sleep…Sleep was not what this was.

Cybelle was acutely aware that, something, was wrong. From the way the sensation of something burning careened through her system like a light rail to the fact that she couldn't seem to open her eyes. Everything felt so heavy. As if she had a stack of stones sitting on her chest, compressing her diaphragm, so she couldn't get enough air. Not enough to speak.

Not enough to call for help.

She was losing things. Sensations, perhaps, even her mind.

She drifted in a quiet place that was full of white-hot needles poking into her skin without rhyme or reason. Just when she thought it might end? It started anew, from the start, as if it were tied to a song that was stuck on repeat. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't seem to break the surface of whatever it was that was holding her down. Her senses felt like they were being stripped away. Her hearing dulled. Her eyes were…Useless. She couldn't feel anyone anymore.

Not her Master. Not her adopted father. Not Bex'l—Not Brandyn.

Why?

A sense of hopelessness had begun to settle. Of being alone. Truly, alone. There was no beacon among the stars that gave her a sense of purpose or belonging. No gentle, warming hum of the Force, that made everything make sense. She had nothing. No sense of time or space.

Cybelle was alone.

She didn't understand and in the sleepless coma she endured those that stayed with her would often find tears running down her cheeks. The robotic caretakers would assume that the spikes in her respiration, quickened heartbeat, and signs of distress were due to pain. They weren't programmed or capable of discerning the truth. It was the quiet, that made her weep.

The loneliness of a silent mind. Suddenly, the quietest place in the universe.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

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Wearing: xxx
Equipment: Standard Lightsaber
Location: NJO Medical Frigate
Tag: John Locke Cybelle Sal-Soren


Brandyn felt the air grow more tense. It was immediately apparent that he would not be getting his chair back anytime soon. His jaw clenched, and upon release listed to either side in a show of annoyance. It soon passed. He did not want to do or say anything that would cause further hurt. Locke was like a father to Cybelle. It was a relationship he did not fully grasp, given his own parental issues.

"It feels strange. Seeing her there. But not...being able to see her as I normally do...through the Force," Brandyn said, shocked to find himself struggling against tears he did not no he was holding back, "it's like. Part of her is gone. Even though I know she's alive."

He dared take a step closer, to take her hand in his. There was no reciprocation, just as before he had left the room. There was no loving squeeze of his hand. There was no acknowledgement that he was there and present with her. No reminder of her appreciation. He realized now how much he feed off that reciprocation. For some reason that he would muse on later, he felt guilty about wanting it.

"I'm sorry," he said, for all ears that would hear it.

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