The Realm of Muertos [Under Editing]

Chapter 21. Wake Up, Orson

Let's do a time skip because if I didn't, this book would have a lot of boring filler chapters.

I don't own anything.
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Bodhi's P.O.V. 

It's quiet tonight. Not surprising, since everyone is asleep except me. I glance at the clock. Another forty-five minutes and then I'm out of here. Then Baze gets to watch Orson.

It was Lyra's idea to start watching Orson 24/7. Three days after the medical droids put him into a coma and hooked him up to a pile of medical devices (which was four days after Tarkin died), Orson's vitals went dead and panic broke out between everyone except Jyn, who was too dazed from her own experiences to be worried about Orson. Once Orson was revived and stabilized, Lyra divvied up assigned hours to each of the Rogue One crew and herself; two hours during the day, and two hours at night for each. Galen, Ryln and Malik didn't receive any shift times because Galen's main job was to nurse Jyn back to health and Ryln and Malik needed to help the former stormtroopers with supply runs.

I reach up and carefully adjust the small, yellow bulb in my teeth so I could see where I was screwing in a bolt. To pass my shift time faster, I've been building things. Sadly, the screw doesn't want to go in. Instead it slips from its designated hole and clinks to the ground. I sigh and shift the light in my teeth again so I can find it. Without my dominant hand, it was hard to do anything and this was no exception.

When Tarkin shot me with that bullet, it didn't kill me but it cut through the artery of my arm. In order to save the rest of my body, Ryln and two medical droids amputated my dying right arm while Malik and some stormtroopers made me a metal one. The metal arm was supposed to be helpful, but I hated it. It hurt when I moved it and within four days, it got to a point where I couldn't stand the pain. So I tore it off.

Boy, did Cassian freak out. He scolded me for not having a medic do it. Then he carried me to the med bay, partially against my will. Hey, it was fun being carried bridal style by Cassian! I would tear off my metal arm again if that guarantees another ride in Cassian's arms.

I'm on my third arm now. My second one, built by Galen, was lighter and more durable than my first but apparently not as durable as a Markavipe's horns. That one lasted about a week. Galen made me a third one that was slightly incomplete and I could take off. "Finish it yourself," he said. "Maybe you'll take better care of it." He was right. I took very good care of my arm and as soon as I finished building the basic mechanics he left out, I began changing some of the more complicated parts, such as the fingers. Currently, I'm building a better thumb.

I glance at Orson. He hasn't shown any signs of waking yet. It makes me worried that he may never wake up again. I keep telling myself that he's just in a coma. He will wake and be able to resume his normal life without any issues. However, with each passing day, my hopes begin to diminish little by little. I don't think I'm the only one. Galen even voiced how he was worried the worst might happen.

I drop the screw again and decide I need a break. I set the thumb aside and reattach my metal arm. It feels heavy after hours of use during the day. I close my eyes. I just want to get back into bed with Cassian. I can almost feel Cassian's chest falling and rising under my good hand, the strength from his powerful arm pulling me against his body, the tickling from his beard when he kisses me. It's quite wonderful to love someone and have them love you back.

The steady beeping of Orson's heart monitor speeds up a little. I frown and open my eyes. I walk over to the machine. Was there something wrong with it? Orson's blood pressure is rising too. I mentally begin to freak out. I look down at Orson. I hope nothing's wrong. Should I call Lyra in?