Cloning/Medical Facilities

Adelle glanced up at the ceiling as the tension grew into a deep ache. She shut her eyes tight and ground the heels into her forehead. Dehydration or sleep-deprivation, one of the two; she prayed it was only dehydration. Na'an's question wasn't helping either.

"Hadn't thought about it," she said, running her hands over her hair. They folded over her chest as she leaned back against the cabinet. "Force knows there's a list of patients the MedCenter wants me to deal with. I should debrief with Master Aerandir as well. Haven't eaten honest-to-gods food in a while. Or drank a whole lot for that matter. At some point I need to head to my quarters and— meditate." Not sleep. Not right now, with the flashbacks so close, the nightmares at the back of her brain, and no sedative to knock her out cold. Stims would be her only saving grace for the next couple months, until her tolerance for sedatives waned enough to where they'd be more effective. "I probably need to check my quarters anyway and see if there's been any packages delivered."

"But," she continued. "I'm sure all of that can wait if you wanted a friendly chat. No business, just . . . well, us, I guess."

Whatever Adelle had been expecting, it couldn't have been what actually happened.  Rather than eliciting sympathy and soft words, her droning about sleep and food and packages only seemed to set something off in Na'an--she bristled visibly as Doc finished, her look sharpening with something like frustration. 

"...Well, if that's how it is," she said, her voice suddenly, unexpectedly clipped. "I don't mean to put you out. I'm sorry I asked."  

She pushed herself to her feet, stuffing the tiny bottle the Healer had given her into a hip pocket. She pointedly looked away from Adelle as she checked her boots, her belt, then wiped away the residual liquid still leaking out from the corner of her left eye. "I mean, if us talking has to be about me, fine. Whatever. I'm just a patient, what do I know," she continued as she made for the door. 

"What was that?" Na'an's lips tightened as she looked up into Adelle's face. Doc was a good three inches taller than she was--the difference had always been apparent, but the sudden heat between them seemed to minimize it somehow, almost as if she'd grown to match.
"Don't play games with me, Doc," she said, frustrated. "I get it. I'm a patient, you're my Healer. If we're going to sit down and have a chat, it has to be about me and my problems, doesn't it?" She started ticking off numbers on her fingers; one, two, three. "Nevermind that you're not taking care of yourself at all. Nevermind that you can casually drop factoids like how you're not eating or drinking or sleeping, like it's nothing at all, just days after you work yourself half to death on a crime world for gods know what reason. "

Na'an made for the exit again, closing in on Adelle's personal space with her shoulders squared and a fourth finger raised. Doc hadn't left much space between them in the first place, and the sudden encroachment pushed her back against the door.

"And that's not even talking about the smell of blood on the brain you've been carrying around. Oh, nooo. If we're sitting to chat it must be because I need to talk. There's no reason at all I'd for it to ever be the other way around. Don't play that card, Doc. Just.....don't."

Her mouth worked angrily, daring Adelle to deny it all again.

Trying to consider other people? Na'an sucked a breath between her own teeth, not bothering to duck away from Adelle's hand on her chest. "You think you're being selfless? Hiding things, making excuses, ignoring what you can't explain away as if it's no big deal?"

She could feel Doc's fingers trembling against her collarbones, the uneven thump of blood in her wrists mirroring her own. She was trying to stay calm...it was a little surprising to see how much effort it took, now that Na'an had provoked her.
"You're not helping anyone that way, Doc," she continued. "All you're doing is making them worry--and worse. What do you think your little girl would say if she knew how I found you, huh?"
Slowly, she covered Adelle's hand with both of her own. There was no gentleness in the gesture--only a firm grip. "What do you think she would have said if I hadn't been there to bring you home?"

This time, it was Adelle's reaction that Na'an didn't expect. She didn't try to hold on to the Healer's hand as she pulled away, or protest when she looked away and all but curled up in the chair on the opposite side of the room. The look in her eye was that of someone who had just been punched in the gut by someone she thought was harmless--betrayal, an unguarded sort of hurt that she should have known would happen the minute she mentioned Morgan.

She should have known. She should have known better than to assume...and now she'd managed to just trigger whatever it was that had had her in such a state on the ship.

She shrugged awkwardly, tugged at the collar of her shirt to hide the flush rising in her neck. "I..." she swallowed, this time ignoring the acrid flash of blood across her tongue. "I...I overstepped myself, didn't I. You don't...you don't have to tell me anything."

She didn't turn to face Adelle, instead focusing on the access panel that would release her from the room--get her away from the person she could feel hyperventilating behind her.
"But you should tell someone. Please."

Then she was out the door, arms crossed tight against her chest as she strode through the waiting room. She didn't linger this time, not even to say hello to the cute little slip of a girl who had kept her company. Any extra time would be a chance for her to lash out and make another mess, after all. The kid could probably fix what she'd screwed up, anyway. Instead she pushed her way out into the main center, down the rows of antiseptic beds and towards the exit.

At the gentle touch, Adelle tried to brace herself and stop the burning tears of shame that threatened to fill her eyes. Morgan was a greater empath than she was and she was no doubt feeling everything Adelle felt. Drawing a deep breath, Adelle lifted her head and met Morgan's concerned face with a tight smile.

"Hey," she said. "How's my girl?"

For a little girl, Morgan was extremely perceptive. Adelle's smile faded and she looked away from Morgan's face. She pressed her lips together as she thought then looked back at Morgan. Her face held no trace of the forced smile, the veil she'd been trying to shield Morgan with. Her jaw worked with tension, the lines in her brow stood out, and her eyes looked a little more than worried; they looked haunted. Morgan deserved her honesty, no matter how ugly the truth was.

"Not a fight, exactly. We . . . disagreed," she said. She looked down at Morgan's hands as she took them in her calloused hands, roughened from years of martial arts. "She thinks I'm not taking care of myself. And . . . sometimes, she's right. But I'm doing what I can to do better, to be better."

Tell someone. Adelle rubbed her hands over Morgan's, trying to sort out the churning in her stomach. She couldn't tell Morgan what had happened. The child didn't need to know everything. But she did need to know the truth. About Nar Shaddaa, about her job with CorSec, and especially about her. She picked up Morgan and pulled her onto her lap, holding her tight. The young girl's presence—and her connection to Felucia—usually helped calm her down, especially after a bad nightmare. And it had been a bad week.

"Morgan, I . . . I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't even realize I do it. And you, you deserve a much better mother than I can ever hope to be. Nar Shaddaa, the past few weeks . . . I went to help someone that worked with CorSec. He'd been hurt, really, really bad. So I went to heal him, and I did, but later someone else needed my help. Morgan . . . Channelling the Force like that, whether you're fighting or healing someone, it makes you very, very tired. And the Force starts to pull you apart. I let that happen. To me. I kept using the Force and using it and using it until it started to tear me apart. And I passed out in the middle of a fight. Na'an made sure I was safe but I scared her. Morgan . . ." Tears started spilling down her face. "Morgan, that wasn't the first time it happened. I-I'm so sorry. I am so very sorry."

She held onto Morgan a little tighter, letting her head sag beneath the weight of her shame. "I'm such a terrible mother."

Adelle smiled, painfully—the sort of hurt that comes from someone lightly touching a burn or scrape. Morgan and her kindness healed but stung at the same time. She brushed a lock of hair out of Morgan's bright eyes, so innocent and stern all at once.

"I promise," she said hoarsely. She kissed the top of Morgan's head, breathing in the wild, earthy scent of her hair. "Go find Na'an. She probably needs cheering up."

She set Morgan down and gently pushed her towards the door. Now that mess was over, she had places to be and things to do and miles to go before she could sleep.

The return to consciousness was a gradual process. She could feel her body, she could feel the Force.. but it was somehow muted. Everything was fuzzy in her senses. She could hear the steady drone and whirr of machinery, the smell of sterility..

Medbay.

It only then dawned on her that she could feel the Force, and what that meant. Her mind was still crawling out of the mud, trying to catch up with what had happened and where she was. This time, her survival instincts were kicking in, and her eyes were staying closed until she fully assessed the situation. If she could feel the Force.. Visor gone. But it wasn't overwhelming her... Somehow there was something tempering the storm. And her Force sense felt.. comforted? She couldn't sense anything else beyond, and after a deep breath, she opened her eyes slightly.

Both of them?

Why was that shocking? It shouldn't have be-..

All the memories came flooding back. Nar Shaddaa. Hyperspace. Felucia.

Oh gods...

She tried to reach up to her face, but her arms couldn't move. Opening her eyes more, she looked downward, seeing what she had already suspected: her wrists were restrained, as were ankles. That was understandable, given what she had done. She took this opportunity to look around and get a better sense of what was going on here. She was correct: this was indeed a medical facility, though it was disturbingly empty.

On the table next to her was a machine of some sorts... is what someone less technologically inclined than her would think. The device seated next to her was an assembly of wires, antennae, and circuitry, and it was clearly an amplifier. What exactly it was amplifying wasn't hard to guess: the orange sheen visible from the center of the device made it clear. It was a crystal, and the comfort in her mind told her that it was more than just any crystal. It felt like her mother. It belonged in her lightsaber, but clearly someone had found a different use for it. She scowled slightly, but she couldn't argue with the results the device was producing. The Force was tolerable in her mind.

Which meant that she would be able to utilize it. She cleared her throat and spoke, at the same time projecting the sentiment outward through her mind.

"Hello?"

<<Hello?>>

It was the first time she had used the Force to communicate since her "death". And at that thought, she realized the gravity of her situation: the friend she had been supposed to reach out to three years ago was no longer a friend at all. Not after all she had done.