Give Me Everything

Chapter One

The dark cellar of the resistance base was cold, dark, and eerily silent. You breathe in shakily, the damp, chilly air of the bunker making your stomach churn. The bunker in which you were taking refuge was deep below ground-level, and encased in hearty metal. You dare to glance around at the others that surround you. Some faces are composed in mild concern, and others downright terrified. You didn't blame them. This was the first time since the relocation of the Resistance base that it had been discovered and attacked by the First Order. You knew that the base was well equipped with weapons and defenses in preparation for such treacherous occasion, but it provided no peace of mind. The First Order was a powerful regime, growing its numbers and resources by the hour. Down in the explosion-proof bunker is where you, and dozens of others were stationed. Hidden there were mainly those who were unfit to fight in battle, the sick, the elderly, and the few children on the rebel base. You felt yourself ball your fists. You wanted to be up there too. Your hatred for the First Order ran deep, and you wished to be among the brave rebel troops, fighting to the death: but you knew your skill was vital. The resistance could not afford to lose you, or the gift that you possessed. A small sniffle in the corner of the room alerted your mind once again to your surroundings. The fact that no one had heard any noise from above in several minutes was disturbing. This could mean one of two things. It could mean that the battle had been won, and the First Order had retreated, or it could mean that there was no one left above to make any noise. Chills raced down your spine as you shake your head to clear the thought. Just then, very faint footsteps sound from above. You tilt your head to focus more on the sound. Many others seemed to have picked up on the sound as well, lifting their heads trying to listen as well. The footsteps were hurried, and no one dared make a noise. Suddenly, the silence is pierced by the sound of the cellar hatch creaking open. You, and everyone else in the enclosure hold a collective breath as the footsteps race down the stairs leading to where you all huddle on the cold stone floor.
You can now see black boots hurrying down the steps, the dark pants, next a white shirt with a dark vest over it-
Your body is flooded with relief, and you release an audible exhale. You didn't even need to see the face to know who it was.
Han Solo appeared at the base of the staircase, breathless, and limping slightly. You could hear all of your companions sigh in relief as well upon recognition of the renowned pilot.
"Alright freeloaders, they're gone now. We're monitoring the skies, and the First Order seems to be in full retreat." He calls out, voice still shaky from his shortness of breath.
There were a few happy cheers, but no one dared to raise their voice much, as if afraid it would alert the First Order..
"You may come back up in small groups at a time, and proceed with caution." His tone becomes more grave as he continues, "there was...a lot of damage done."
You stand up quickly, making your way through the crowd toward Han. You had a great respect for him, and it was always a pleasure and a laugh to talk to him, but he looked a little shaken up. And when Han Solo was stirred by a battle, you knew it had to be bad.
You approach him slowly. "How bad is it?" You ask, looking up at his unreadable expression.
"Not too many fatalities, but a lot wounded. I hope you got lots of rest last night because we're going to be needing your help nonstop for the next day at least." he utters as he scans the room of people beginning to help each other up.
You nod briskly, already planning your next course of action.
"May I start with you then?" You question, gesturing to his limp, knowing that something was probably broken, or bleeding, or both.
Han scowls. "There are a lot more people that need your help a hell of a lot more than I do right now." He states in an urgent, yet somehow dry tone.
"But Han-" you protest.
"I'm fine, Emily. Really. Just hurry up and go help." He pauses, looking right into your eyes for a moment.
"They need you."
You hesitate for one more moment before dipping your head, and bolting up the stairs. When you make it to the top, you stop briefly to survey the damage of the battle, and to take a deep breath of fresh air. There are a lot of small fires that are being stomped and smothered out by those who were not injured. Everyone looked so worn and exhausted. It must have been quite the  battle. You clear your throat, before taking a deep breath and booming in your loudest voice.
"Everyone! Please send the most critically injured to my tent, and please seek other medical care if I cannot get to you right now! There are bandages and ointments in the cellar, and plenty of water down there as well! Please take care of yourselves, and I will be available for help in my tent!" You finish, trying to make sincere eye contact with everyone that you can. You pivot, and make your way quickly back to your healing tent, silently pleading that it had not been destroyed. Your healing tent was between a small grove of trees, away from any chaos or commotion that occurred around the bustling resistance base. You round the corner, holding your breath. There sits your tent, completely unscathed, as if it knew nothing of the battle that took place only a few hundred meters away. You part the thick curtains, relieved that everything was just as you had left it before you had heard the alarm sounding that the rebel base was under attack. You knew you didn't have much time to immerse yourself in the calm, peaceful state that made healing the easiest, but you had to try in the little time that you did have before someone was brought to you bleeding out. You sit criss cross on your cushioned mat, placing your palms on your knees, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. You wipe your mind clear. You are safe. You are at peace. You slowly feel yourself becoming in touch with your own body one section at a time. You pay attention to how your hair feels atop your head, how much it weighs on your scalp, how much the individual hairs tickle your neck. You then focus on your eyes, then your nose, then mouth. You move down to your neck and shoulders, ensuring that they are fully relaxed as you breathe rhythmically. You focus on your heart as it beats, providing life and blood to flow through your body. You feel your focus drift to your arms and fingers, feeling the energy flow freely now. Down through your stomach, past your hips, down your legs, all the way to your toes. You reach out with your thoughts, finding the balance that the Force brings to your body: the energy of it courses through your veins. You are ready. Just as your body feels completely connected and whole, the curtains are pushed open, and two men carry in a young man that you recognize vaguely, sure enough, bleeding out from a deep deep wound in his chest that is dangerously close to his heart. He gasps in pain, choking on his air, too stunned and agonized to speak. Not a single muscle tightens on your body. He will be okay.
You extend your arms to pull his twitching body closer to you.
"Shhh, everything will be alright" you hum in a soft, silk-smooth tone. You place your hands firmly on his chest, your hands warmed now with blood. You close your eyes.
"Please try to relax" you coax him gently, "it's easier for me that way."
Though still in agonizing pain, he grits his teeth, breathing harshly through his clenched jaw, and relaxes his body as best he can. Then you find it. His energy, twisted in pain and terror. You inhale deeply through your nose, apply pressure with your hands, and begin to breathe in a slow rhythm. Transferring just a smidge of your life force to him. Just enough to ease his own energy back into balance, causing his body to expedite  the process of healing tenfold. You feel the energy rushing to the wound. You don't break the rhythm of your inhales and exhales. You will it to heal. To close. For his body to once again be in equilibrium, and at peace. You can sense the familiar feeling under your hands of his skin swelling gently, and settling itself back together, leaving only a small scar in its wake. You open your eyes to see the man breathing softly now, fast asleep as he lays on the floor in front of you. You relax yourself and lean back, turning to wash the blood off of your hands thoroughly.
"His body will be exhausted from all the effort to heal itself so quickly. Get him to a comfortable bed and let him rest for as long as he needs. When he wakes, hydrate him with as many fluids as possible, and have him eat something high in iron. He lost a lot of blood." You explain to his two friends calmly, like you have to many people before. They thank you earnestly, and you give them a smile, content to see them carry out their peacefully sleeping friend.
"Please send in who's next" you call after them, changing out the disposable plastic sheet that is now stained red. You lay down a fresh one, toss the other in a hazardous waste bin, and drink some water yourself before a middle aged woman is brought before you, her leg gashed open. She too is gasping for breath, face contorted in pain. You place your hands there, feeling her agonized and spastic energy immediately.
"I'm-I'm going to-I'm dying!" She seethes in pain, a tremor running down her body. You take her hand and squeeze it gently. You have noticed that those who are verbal when they are in extreme pain respond better to verbal feedback from the individual giving them care. 
"You are not going to die. Let me help you please." You soothe, shushing her softly.
"Now breathe with me okay? We're going to breathe through the pain.
Breathe in...2...3...4, hold...2...3...4...and out...2...3...4..." you can feel her body relax under your hands as she breathes slowly with you.
"Perfect. You're doing great. Now just relax. We're going to get you all healed."