Give Me Love

epilogue

How many times was this?

Four? Five?

There was the car accident where you actually died. Then there was the bombing of the medical tents on Zephyr-IV. Then there was the kidnapping where you were injected with Trioxoprone. And the time you were poisoned with Viranaphore before all that. Plus, falling out of the sky onto that moon full of nightcrawlers, although you're not sure if that counted because everyone else did too. But then there was the time your mother tried to murder you in your dining room, and now being electrocuted to death...

No matter the number, it was one too many times your life had almost been snuffed out.

And this time, nothing was bringing you back except good old medical science.

"Everyone stand back!" Rico ordered, and all hands left you on the cold, gray table. "Clear!"

And then the strong currents of electricity took hold of your body again, urging your heart to kickstart again.

How ironic. Electrocuted to death, and electrocuted to life.

"3 milligrams of epi, get it drawn up and delivered. Have 40 units of Vasopressin on standby. Ready the AED again after 30 counts."

You thought you were seeing an angel. That girl above you, pressing on your chest over and over and over again– that was the medic from the explosion of Zephyr. You had saved her, along with that boy she had been with. You hadn't realized she actually made it.

30 counts was up quickly. Another "clear!" and you were shooting up off the table again.

Something sharp stabbed your thigh. More hands pressing on your chest, again and again and again. Fighting by the door, trying to keep people out.

Ba-dum.

There it was.

You bet you looked crazy, half-conscious and half-dead, but smiling. Not for a minute did you doubt Rico could do it. That you could do it. The world could try to kill you ninety-nine times, but you would come back a hundred.

For him.

The man who was now hovering over you, clasping your face in his hands, one flesh and one leather. Both warm. Both like home.

And that face– that was an angel.

"We've got a pulse!" Rico yelled, and there were more hands on you. Poking and prodding and pumping you with drugs. You weren't going anywhere anymore. Not with Anakin holding you now.
You were finally safe.

•••••••

The medbay may as well be your home now. You may as well bring your sheets in and make your own bed, claim your own shower, and build your own kitchen. There should be a welcome mat outside your door, and a mailbox to collect your letters.

Anakin, thankfully, did not want you cooped up in there any longer than you had to be, either. You knew exactly why.

His dream had come true. You had died again, and he saw you lying cold and still on the table. He felt the absence of you, as his life force that he had given to you returned to him. But he fought it off, he told you. Pushed it back. And you, stubborn old you, took far too long to accept it again.

It almost cost your life for real this time, but what could you say?! You weren't even conscious.

"Don't go blaming me for this," you muttered, still doped up on drugs and unsteady on your feet as Anakin led you out of the medbay for, hopefully, the last time in your life. "You're the one who went all darkside and caused me to be in the path of a Sith Lord's dangerous lightning bolts."