Hux drifts. He doesn't know how long he drifts of course. The sweet oblivion that this sort of sleep provides is something has rarely experiences. Sleep is for the weak, and Hux is never weak. He had to prove his father wrong--he had to prove them all wrong, he had to rise above, to best them all, to find his destiny. He has to protect himself, lock himself away; it's a necessary evil, it must be done, emotions are weakness, even those warm ones, they are terrible and dangerous and so often he finds them surrounding him, drowning him, begging for him to slip up, to let himself out, to risk--but risk is only good when the future is certain and that figure swathed in black is nothing but a certain thing, but he is so warm and he craves warmth he craves--
--Hux comes to with a gasp and a grunt of pain. The bacta patches are doing their work, but everything hurts. The droids never did understand how to give people with his genetics medication right.
Everything seems like a haze; he can see but his eyes are unfocused. He can't even--the ship--
"I need to--I need to check on things."
Hux moves to get out of the bed, but barely moves a hand. It's only then that he can feel the familiar presence near him--two familiar presences, actually.
Turning his head slightly (why did it take so much effort, this is horrible), he frowns, letting out a small sound (weakness, he's always so weak) when Hux sees Ren holding Millicent.
"--Kylo?" Not Ren. But the first part of his name, spoken in a more fragile tone than he wanted.
Ren shifts, nearly using the force to press Hux back into the bed, but the man doesn't make it before he stills and makes a sound Ren had never imagined he would hear from him, and speaks with a tone that makes Ren pause a moment longer than he should. At Hux's voice, Millicent leaves him for her owner, and Ren makes no move to halt her.
Instead, Ren forcefully waves one of the droids off. They could run their pointless scans when he was done. Hux was awake and they were not getting first crack at him.
"The ship is stable." Hux was stable, and that matters nearly as much. Not more. It's entirely for the sake of the stability of the crew that he had stayed and waited.
"You aren't going anywhere. The last thing this ship knees is seeing you in this state." The ship was in enough of a state on its own. Phasma had the crew managed, and both she and Ren would silence anyone who dared to say it think anything of Hux's absence. As far as all of them knew, he was still the one giving the orders.
A tiny twitch of an uptick hits Hux's lips when Millicent jumps over to him, moving to bump into his jawline, starting to already purr because her owner is hurt and she needs to help, so she curls up on his chest, pressing her head into his neck. Hux raises a hand to rest in her fur, which serves a dual purpose in keeping him from reaching out to Ren. He wants to; and with his drug-addled, weakened state, he might have easily done so. But he couldn't--he couldn't bring himself to do that, even now. Ren would probably pull back. He was sitting there, but most likely because of the ship and other things. It's--complicated. His mind feels like a jumble, and he hates it. Medication keeps the pain away, but it also keeps his mind from being sharp, keeps his carefully constructed walls from being high and tight.
"Good. I am sure you and Phasma had a hand in that." He takes a breath, staring up at the ceiling, not able to look at Ren as he speaks again. "Thank you." He failed. He failed, and they had to pick up his slack. Had they not been there...it would have fallen apart. So soon after the Starkiller--is he so terrible at all of this? Perhaps he is unworthy. He is not, he knows he is not, but this is why he hates anything that takes his walls away, it allows the weak and useless of memory to bleed in again, chip at parts he hates.
Ren's words hurt him, even if he knows that Ren did not mean them that way. It is annoying, how caring can make things hurt. A double edged thing; because he does care, even if he tries to pretend he doesn't, most of the time.
"I am sure. Half the ship thinks I abandoned them on the Starkiller," Though he had to save Ren, and he could never utter that, "Seeing me here would only lose the rest of them.
A few hours, more drugs, and I'll be up. I'll be fine."
He'll make himself fine. He has to be seen. Ren can't run himself ragged with is abilities trying to cloud it, forever.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
--Hux comes to with a gasp and a grunt of pain. The bacta patches are doing their work, but everything hurts. The droids never did understand how to give people with his genetics medication right.
Everything seems like a haze; he can see but his eyes are unfocused. He can't even--the ship--
"I need to--I need to check on things."
Hux moves to get out of the bed, but barely moves a hand. It's only then that he can feel the familiar presence near him--two familiar presences, actually.
Turning his head slightly (why did it take so much effort, this is horrible), he frowns, letting out a small sound (weakness, he's always so weak) when Hux sees Ren holding Millicent.
"--Kylo?" Not Ren. But the first part of his name, spoken in a more fragile tone than he wanted.
no subject
Instead, Ren forcefully waves one of the droids off. They could run their pointless scans when he was done. Hux was awake and they were not getting first crack at him.
"The ship is stable." Hux was stable, and that matters nearly as much. Not more. It's entirely for the sake of the stability of the crew that he had stayed and waited.
"You aren't going anywhere. The last thing this ship knees is seeing you in this state." The ship was in enough of a state on its own. Phasma had the crew managed, and both she and Ren would silence anyone who dared to say it think anything of Hux's absence. As far as all of them knew, he was still the one giving the orders.
no subject
"Good. I am sure you and Phasma had a hand in that." He takes a breath, staring up at the ceiling, not able to look at Ren as he speaks again. "Thank you." He failed. He failed, and they had to pick up his slack. Had they not been there...it would have fallen apart. So soon after the Starkiller--is he so terrible at all of this? Perhaps he is unworthy. He is not, he knows he is not, but this is why he hates anything that takes his walls away, it allows the weak and useless of memory to bleed in again, chip at parts he hates.
Ren's words hurt him, even if he knows that Ren did not mean them that way. It is annoying, how caring can make things hurt. A double edged thing; because he does care, even if he tries to pretend he doesn't, most of the time.
"I am sure. Half the ship thinks I abandoned them on the Starkiller," Though he had to save Ren, and he could never utter that, "Seeing me here would only lose the rest of them.
A few hours, more drugs, and I'll be up. I'll be fine."
He'll make himself fine. He has to be seen. Ren can't run himself ragged with is abilities trying to cloud it, forever.