Star Wars: Scars

Part 3 - 1

Bright lights. Agony. 

There was no way to tell if it had been days, weeks, months, or years. Those two things simply repeated each and every day that Creed found himself moved back and forth between the only two rooms he ever saw. He remembered nothing of waking up, and knew nothing of where he was. All he knew was that his vision was too cloudy to make out anything, and at least twice a day he was moved from one room to another. Each trip ended in the same dreamy darkness from which he awoke a few hours later, finding himself still in pain.

There were voices, faint ones from dark figures around him. But there were also voices in his head. Voices that screamed at him, reminded him of what he'd done, and voices that begged for more bloodshed. 

They were loud voices too, and they never quieted except when the darkness descended. They seemed excited by the pain, and hated the idea of having to be silenced in any way. Creed eventually discovered he had no control over them either. He couldn't speak to them, couldn't ask them to be quiet, they simply did as they pleased. 

It was driving him mad.

After several murky weeks of not knowing anything that was happening and only experiencing the sensations of pain and voices, Creed woke up to find himself clear headed enough to recognize a Kamino medbay. There were a few medics moving around and talking in murky tones. Creed had to squint some to make out details, but it seemed he was hooked up to several machines and his body was covered in bandages. His bones ached and he could feel the pressure of casts supporting his back and neck stiffly. Trying to open his mouth to speak, Creed found that attempting to vocalize words, and even breathing itself elicited agonizing pain from his chest and rib so he stopped, sinking back into the hospital bed.

He let his eyes wander the room as slowly he became aware of the voices arguing and screaming again.

Where's the next target? I want to see more blood!

No, we have to recover, right? We can't kill anyone else unless we're sure they can't kill us.

Shut up, Tadem! Let's go stab someone else! Look there's a medic, he'd be an easy target.

Should we kill him?

Maybe let's not stab him. 

Poison?

Hmmmm.

I like poison!

They droned on, screaming and arguing like they normally did. Creed just closed his eyes and let them. It was growing to be a comfort to know they were there, acting like they always did. It reminded him that he was alive no matter how broken, and that he wasn't alone.

"Hey, you awake?" another voice broke through the murky barrier and Creed cracked his eye's some, letting them shift nervously from one medic to the other. They were both bending over him, looking concerned and he didn't like it much, but he didn't have the strength to move.

"Hey there, how do you feel?" one of the medic's asked.

Creed didn't answer him, trying to listen to the voices instead. They were better, more comforting. He didn't like the strange voices that were so loud and cutting into his ears.

"You think he might have lost it a little?" 

"Well, someone said they reported him trying to talk to "voices" or rather the voices of his dead brother's. Maybe his concussion did more damage than we thought, he did have skull fractures and swelling in the brain. Let's try giving him the medicine to clear his head."

Creed's eyes widened a little and he tried to sit up, trembling. That brought a new wave of pain but he bit down and ignored the pain. Before he could protest, though, a medic was pressing him back gently as another injected something into his IV. There was an odd tingling sensation and the familiar voices in his head began to fade. The sounds of machines, talking, shifting, moving, everything came back into focus and Creed started. It was all so overwhelming and it was making his head hurt. He tried to grab at his head and a medic tried to pull his hands away. The other grabbed a syringe and Creed's eyes grew wide. They were gonna put him down, he knew it.

Terrified, he tore up, ripping out several of the tubes and IV's as he shouldered painfully past the medics, the pain in his body as he tried to walk almost causing to him to fall. He heard the shifting and grinding of broke bones but he didn't stop, half running, half staggering as he bolted from the medbay. He made it down two halls before he collapsed, grabbing at his head.

Desperate, he clawed through his hair and mentally plead for the voices to come back. He needed them. Needed the comfort of having them there. He had to have his brother's.

They weren't coming back, though, and it was scaring him. Everything was so loud, everything was so terrifying and his whole body hurt. He pressed back up to his feet and staggered down the hall's, clutching his head as he ran. He had to get away. He had to get them back. 

He turned a corner to get out of the medbay and skidded to a painful halt when he saw a kid standing in his way. The boy couldn't have been much older than maybe fourteen, and he was standing there staring at Creed. There was a pause, then the boy's face lit up a little, but Creed gave him a confused look. His eyes darted around, looking for an exit, but before he could find one, the kid bolted forward and hugged him.

"Creed, you're back!"

The hug jolted pain through Creed's broken body and the voice rang in his ears, but he looked down, shaking as he still felt the need to look for an escape. He forced himself to calm down some, though, and he tried to answer but it still hurt to speak and he was struggling to breathe. He sank down to his knees, looking at the kid for a long moment. 

Who was he? 

He looked so familiar, but Creed's head was so jumbled that he was struggling just to remember where he was. He finally nodded a little in response and let the boy hug him, but he closed his eyes, his head pounding and his body aching. He needed a break. He needed the voices. He needed his brother's.

Chaos. 

Creed's eyes snapped open. Chaos. He knew that name. He'd given someone that name a long time ago. A long time ago he'd given it to a kid...

The pieces fell into place as Creed suddenly started and threw his arms around the boy; Chaos. This kid was his vod'ika. How could he have forgotten? 

Creed hugged Chaos back through the pain and started sobbing, feeling guilty and overwhelmed. How could he have forgotten his little brother? Where was he and what was he doing there? Why was he in pain? How long had it been?

Everything was jumbled and hurting and Creed didn't know what to do. He was terrified out of his mind, he couldn't talk, he could find the voices, all he had in the moment as Chaos. 

So he clung to Chaos because his life depended on it.

He hugged the boy as tight as his broken body would allow him and just cried, letting Chaos wrap his arms around him and hug him back.

"What's wrong..." Chaos' small voice asked after a long moment as he looked up at Creed. Creed looked back at him, hanging his head for a long time before he mustered the courage to look his little brother in the eyes again. As he did, though, all the emotions and the overwhelm hit him again and he gasped, trying not to cry as he choked out a few painful words.

"C-Chaos...I-I..." he gasped, already on his knees, looking up into his little brother's eyes, his own already brimming with tears. He thought he could hear voices calling from down the hall, looking for him. He couldn't hear his brother's anymore, his head was spinning and he felt like blacking out from pain. He met Chaos' gaze, desperate.

"H-H-Help me..."