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.
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"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.