Give Me Love

chapter twenty nine

You could swear you felt worse now than you did when you had actually died.

Before you even opened your eyes, you could feel the excruciating ache of your muscles pooling with blood, riddled with deep bruises. Your shoulders seemed to pulse where you had yanked on them so hard, and your skin stung with the many scrapes and cuts you suffered from the forest floor.

Most notably, there was a certain spot on your neck that throbbed with a sharp, burning pain. Whoever was in charge of your pain meds needed to be talked to.

Instead of succumbing back into the mercy of your comatose state, you decided against all better judgement to just open your eyes--

White.

You had a good idea of what that meant, but before you could lift your head, or get a word out, or even blink the bleariness from your eyes, someone's lips were on your own.

It took you a moment to register, all tensed up and wincing from the pain of every movement, but then his scent filled your nose, and his hands cupped your face, and you knew who it was.

He pulled you up to meet your face and kissed you hard.

You didn't know exactly where you were, or how you were even alive, or if you were even alive. But most of all you didn't know how to respond to the lips pressing into yours. Half of your mind thought you honestly might have just been dead, because there was no way he could be kissing you right now.

But he didn't pull away, and the longer he pressed into you like this, seemed to breathe through you like this, the more your icy disbelief melted and you relaxed. You also thought you felt something wet on your cheek, and tasted a little bit of salt as it dripped between your lips. But you weren't crying.

He kissed you until neither of you could breathe. It was hard, and dizzying, and sad; because it wasn't an "I almost lost you" kiss, it was an "I already did lose you, and I won't ever let it happen again" kiss.

And when he pulled back, you passed out again.

●●●

Your first thought when you woke up:

Not again.

There was no doubt in your mind this time as to where you were, or if you were alive. Being dead didn't hurt this much, and nowhere had this much white than the walls of a medcenter.

You were sick of waking up in them, not even sure you would be able to stand working in one ever again.

You squinted your eyes at the light, groaning quietly as you turned your head to the side. There was Obi-Wan, sitting on a chair at your bedside, one ankle crossed over his knee, nodding off.

You took it as an opportunity to grab your bearings, wincing and gasping through the pain in your muscles as you pushed yourself to sitting, and then grabbed ahold of the first IV needle in your arm.

With a quick, steady yank, it clattered to the ground, and then you were reaching for the next one. Obi-Wan started to wake up at the noises, eyes widening when he saw you.

"Wait, Y/n--" another tube hit the ground. "Please, I think you need those--"

You were very much aware how important these IV's and fluid bags were for patients, and would never suggest they take them out like this. But you knew what you were doing, and the thought of being in a hospital bed chained down by all those wires pumping fluids into you made you feel physically ill.

So with one last rip, and one last protest from Obi-Wan, you were free to stand up and start stretching.

"Y/n, I suggest you get back into bed," the Jedi held his hands out toward you like you might fall, but you just shook your head.