Tales of a Comet (A Kylo Ren Story)

Chapter 11 - Recovery

I felt cold seep into my skin, muscles, and bones. I let the cold overcome all of my senses. I hope this was death, just this empty cold feeling.

Unconsciousness kept knocking on my mental door and I had left it wide open, allowing my mind peace. Time was an illusion. I didn't feel anything other than the cold. My physical body had just disappeared and what was left was my subconsciousness drifting through the cold darkness, occasionally brushing the tip of a memory.

What pulled me from this darkness was a lullaby. I didn't want to focus on the sound, but it lured me towards it like a magnet. I couldn't place where I had heard this lullaby, but it had a familiarity to it that eased my aching soul. The cold was pushed away with each verse while warmth began to flood in. The light was pulling me towards consciousness, but I was reluctant at first. I didn't want to go back, knowing the pain that I had to face. But, I eventually gave in.

--

I felt like I was slammed back into my body. I woke up, hearing an annoying noise escalating its tone. This made me open my eyes to an unbearably bright light, which made me automatically close my eyes. I wanted to use my arm to cover my face, but it was strapped to the bed. The sound was getting louder, and as it did I heard a large group of people begin to surround me and touch me.

Stop fucking touching me, I thought. I wanted to say it, but something was blocking me from using my vocal cords. I tried moving my hands for the second time to feel what it was but again, I felt them stop, like I was strapped to the bars that made the rails on the bed.

I cracked my eyes a little, allowing them to slowly adjust to the stupid light. The people that were surrounding me kept touching and poking me, which was pissing me off. I wanted to smack their hands away and tell them to leave me alone, but I was unable to, which ticked me off even more.

I finally got my eyes to fully open, which allowed me to look only at the ceiling. My head was apparently strapped down too. I glanced at the faces of masked covered medical personnel whenever they came into my view, trying to glare at them with as much hate that I could come up with in my situation. Finally, the room quieted down, and so did that annoying noise. I realized that this was my heart monitor.

I kept pulling on my hands and even ankles to try to get someone to actually look at me in the eyes, but I was ignored. Each person left after they individually assessed me, until I was left alone with one person. I could tell she was female, even though the majority of her face was covered by a mask. I noticed I still couldn't speak due to the tube that must be keeping me breathing. This female finally looked at me, and not just a glance to see that I was functioning, but really looked at me.

"I'm sorry", was all she said before she injected me with a pale white solution inside a syringe.

What the fuck do... you think... you're....

--

The cold didn't return to my body and mind like it did that first time, even though I fell into unconsciousness multiple times. I think I start to panic whenever I would wake because my monitor would rapidly start to beep, causing a miniature army of medical personnel to enter my room. Each time I woke, I noticed one less piece of medical equipment attached to me. The second time I woke, the tube that was down my trachea had been removed, yet my vocal cords were still too sore to use. The third, fourth, and fifth time the different IV lines were taken out of my arms, only leaving behind bruises the size of a peggat.

By the sixth time I came to consciousness, I was more reclined then laying fully on the bed. The Velcro strap that held my head down was removed too, but my extremities were still locked in place. Without lying flat, I was allowed to finally take a look at the room. To the left there was a counter the length of the wall that had cabinets on top and bottom. To the right was another bed that was empty while this also had the door which lead out of the room. Other than the table and various monitors that was next to my bed, those were the only items the room contained.

By the third time I regained consciousness, I was able to put the pieces together. I don't quite remember how I managed to make it to this bed, but I do remember everything before this vividly. The memories of finding Delmon, Kael, Father, and finally Zuke crashed into me repeatedly. Each time the memories hit me, I felt like pieces of my soul were being cut into ribbons, which floated away leaving me in a tattered mess. The ever present self hatred continuously burned and sometimes flared inside of me. My self inflicted inferno was the partial reason to why I kept falling unconscious.

Each time I thought about my family and how I lead each of them to their deaths, my heart monitor would spike. This lead to the swarm of medical staff to come into my room to see as to why my heart rate kept spiking. Each time they entered, the same female employee would apologize before injecting me with the pale white solution. This would eventually lead to my body and mind being insensible to the world.

Although, the times I were awake and not succumbed to darkness or atrocious memories, I would have time to think about my situation. As hard as it was for me to fully grasp what the Resistance did, I was still able to hate them. My brutal hate for them was my only will to live; I need to avenge my family. I need each of them to feel my betrayal. I need them too feel my revulsion and disgust towards them. I need them to understand what they did to me.

Even though I had my hate towards the Resistance sorted out, I still don't know how I was going to place my revenge on them. I could possibly accomplish this on my own, but I was still a prisoner with the First Order. I could try to get them to take me, train me, and help me destroy our common enemy, but I just couldn't see this happening.

My mind was wrapping around these ideas when the female staff came in with the familiar syringe. I physically cringed away from her, which caused her to look up and see me wide awake. She took a step back in fear, almost dropping the syringe on the ground.

"You're not supposed to be awake yet."

"But I am, so what are you going to do?" I replied with a raised brow. My voice was still raspy, but it was clear enough to understand. I could see that she was visibly trembling. Deep down I wanted to comfort her, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"I- I have to- um-", her voice was quivering to the point I couldn't understand her, but I didn't have to because she practically ran out of the room.

I went back to my thoughts for a bit when the door opened to bring me a new visitor. This person was someone I never would have thought to show up to my recovery room.