Demoted (Hux X Reader)

Pain, Thoughts, & Spa Day

A/N

Sike there's no A/N.

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After giving out a few more basic commands and starting up a list of names of those who chose to hide during the fight, Hux and I stumbled back up to our suite. The pains in my body finally caught up with me as my adrenaline went away. I still felt my heart racing faster than usual.

Hux haphazardly brushed the strands of his ash filled hair back, but it barely made any difference. I noticed the unlit cigarette between his fingers. He reached into his pocket and then his other pocket. "Where the hell?" His voice trailed off into some mumble. I simply pointed over at the extra HUX lighter on the clean coffee table.

It was weird seeing everything in this room so pristine and untouched. There was no shattered glass or ash. There was no blood or burnt power packs. It was as if the battle never happened.

It's not that I pretend like everything is fine and go about my day. I just don't want to think about it. Nobody does. So I look around the giant room and accept the normalcy for what it is.

There is an unspoken rule aboard the Finalizer and other ships or bases. We don't chit chat about the horrors of what is done in the name of the First Order, nor the unforgivable acts of terror the Resistance has inflicted upon us as individuals. It's more of a collective hate towards our enemy that's shaped by each person's experience. Hux and I can very well want to rid the galaxy of the Resistance for very different reasons. In the end our differences wouldn't matter. We have the same goals. No one really needs to share their stories because it only adds to the grim reality surrounding us.

But sometimes, on the very rare occasion, the past can slip into the present in the form of accidental words or visions, and sometimes that occasional thousand parsec stare.

I take a deep breath and blink. I see my holopad on the couch with a little blinking light. It seems I had a transmission sent to me. I check on it only to see that I don't know this code chain. Whatever. I'll take a look at it later.

Hux passes his cigarette to me, aimlessly exhaling out. We don't necessarily share it, but he keeps handing it back to me, urging me to have more. The pounding in my chest slows and the nicotine numbs my brain just enough for me to relax. I didn't realize that I was shaking until I wasn't anymore.

Hux joins me in the shower, not wanting to leave my side. At some point, the sounds of TIE fighters zipping fast through the air makes my body tense up. I hold my breath as my heart pounds out of my chest, waiting for something terrible to happen. I almost didn't notice that Hux also stopped moving. He is squeezing his fingers into me a bit too hard. Once the sound dissipates into silence, I huff out, relaxing my shoulders. He releases his unintentional grip on me as well.

"They're just on patrol. No need to worry." Hux says, trying to comfort me and probably himself too.

"Yea... Patrol." I say.

I hastily clean myself up, leaving bits of twigs and leaves to swirl around the drain at our feet. Hux runs his fingers through my wet hair, pulling a small white shard out and dropping it to the shower floor. I'm really hoping that's not bone. Eventually we just stand there holding each other, not wanting to do anything else.

We skip that much needed bacta bath and simply get ready for bed. I know that I'll regret it in the morning, but I almost want to feel the physical pain of battle as a reminder. I hobble over to the coffee table and pick up my holopad, while readjusting the towel wrapped around my head. Hux sits down on the couch next to me in just lounge pants, groaning from soreness. I start up the transmission. A familiar charcoal black helmet and ridiculous outfit statics into existence.