apostasy | the mandalorian

fīvē

t/w: mentions of blood, major injuries, nondescriptive needle injection

CHAPTER THREE: THE ESCAPE

All she could hear was a sharp ringing noise, vibrating her ears with its pitch. It hadn't gone away in what seemed like an eternity, and her head was filled with a new aching sensation unlike anything she had ever experienced. It felt like she was underwater, the pressure of the deepest spot in the ocean resting on her forehead. The more she tried to breathe, the more it hurt, constricting her to small gasps as she worked to find her surroundings.

It was cold...so cold. And she could barely move without excruciating pain shooting through her every nerve. As her head lolled to the opposite side, lacking support from fading in and out of consciousness, she was finally able to open her eyes.

Her vision was still blurred, but she could see that all the walls were metal. Boxes were filling half of the space, all pushed away from her and secured to the wall by thick netting. She was clearly on the floor, though cushioned by layer after layer of blankets. A steady buzzing noise crept past the mind-numbing ringing in her skull, somewhat relieving her with its gentleness.

Her mouth opened with a dry gasp, testing the amount her lungs could expand without causing severe pain. She barely got her chest to rise an inch before she had to stop, groaning as she forced the tortuous air to evacuate.

She tried to remember what had happened to her, sorting through her foggy memory to find the exact moment of defeat. Her eyes closed once more, sending her back to her bar. Her blaster was propped up on the counter, firing aimlessly at the men who had invaded her village. The shot in her collarbone was already flaming, pressed into the curve of the counter to keep her from bleeding out.

Then, her body was thrown; hard. She hit the back wall, feeling every last remnant of air leave her system as the disturbing dream from that morning flooded her mind once more. She heard her mother's calming voice, and then it changed into a man's.

Instinctively, her eyebrows furrowed at the thought, remembering who it sounded like just milliseconds before she passed out. His voice had given her such comfort, knowing that he was the last one to hold her before she died. She was so sure she was going to, but the way her body was still trapping her with its agony said otherwise.

Suddenly, her side cramped, and her body started to seize up, tightening her fragile muscles until all she could do was scream. Her voice was mute at first, but as the moisture slowly came back into her throat, it was impossible not to hear how much she was suffering.

In what was probably seconds, but felt like hours to Evri, a person was at her side. She started breathing raggedy, already running out of the strength to vocalize her pain.

"What's hurting? What can I do?" a panicked voice asked, accompanied by a few soft touches to assess where the pain was coming from. Eventually, a hand landed on her side, and she whimpered at the contact.

"Hold on," he said quietly, his boots hurrying away from her.

No, don't go

This time, his return was quick, and a small pinch landed in the muscle on her side stopped the tensing. Her hyperventilating returned to normal, feeling the bacta spread through her system like ice-cold water. Her eyelids fluttered a bit, and then, finally, she opened her eyes all the way.

And what she saw made her want to close them all over again.

"D-Din?" she muttered. His tall figure was crouching beside her, still examining her for any signs of pain as she studied his helmet. Upon hearing his name, his visor locked onto her face, only to hesitantly look down once he met her eyes.