Join Me... Please ~ Reylo

10

Bad Habit- Ben Platt                 TRIGGER WARNING

Her vision was blurred. She could feel the drops of sweat all over her body.

"It'll wear off soon enough," her eyes went straight to the voice. It was satisfyingly crisp, but painfully unfamiliar.

"I don't-"

"We found you, near dead. We got a distress call from somewhere near your co-ordinates and when we got there you and some others were floating, looked like some sort of bad accident but there were dead bodies and pieces of a ship scattered for miles. Only you and one other survived, the rest didn't make it."

Her heart was pounding out of her chest. One person made it. That meant that, once again, she had lost people she loved.

"I recognised her from the days of Darth Vadar. If memory serves, she's the leader of the resistance," 

Of course, Leia. The only explanation was that the force they had inside them had kept them alive long enough to be rescued.

"She's in worse shape than you, I'm afraid."

"Who are you?" she said, in a dazed, sleepy tone.

"You don't want to know, sweet cheeks. But, I know you. And I know people who would pay a pretty penny for you two," chills dance down her spine.

"The first order?"

"No no no, little one. Too obvious. They'd take you and kill me. No, I know a guy. It'll take a good while to find him. But, believe me, once you're his, you'll wish I sold you to the first order," he sneered, and she heard a door close. 

Finn...

Poe...

Chewie...

Each one she thought of shattered her heart a little more. She cried uncontrollably for longer than time can say. And, Leia was on death's door, too. She reached for her saber but found she couldn't move her arms. Or her legs. Nothing. She looked and saw her skin was a pale, deadly purple. Panic was quickly setting in. She tried to use the force, but it was impossible. She didn't know it, but to anyone watching, it was clear she was highly sedated. 

As the weeks went by, she quickly became deadly skinny, being fed only enough to be kept on the brink of life. Her skin's purple complexion only got worse. She saw nobody other than the sickly man who would come in and ensure the drip attached to her right arm was stopping her from escaping. Her lips were severely cracked and the skin around her eyes was black. If this carried on much longer, there would be more bone than anything else. Breathing had become so unbelievably difficult and painful, that she often had to wear an oxygen mask when sleeping to keep her from slipping away. When she did sleep. The man wouldn't let her. He would hit her every time she came close to sleep, just to ensure she was completely exhausted. The whites of her eyes were red. 

She could barely even think anymore. She couldn't remember where she was or why or how. She didn't know why she cried all the time. She wasn't entirely sure who she was, or why she was hanging on. But she did know it had to be something important. 

She looked at the door, waiting for him to burst in and check the IV as he usually did about now, but she didn't see him. Instead, she saw a taller, more muscular man leaning on what must have been a table. The back of his head held thick locks that seemed somehow familiar. 

"You..." she whispered.