Keeping Your Promise

Reminder

Summary: Did you really think it would last forever?

WARNINGS: Dubcon/Noncon, inappropriate use of the Force

There was hesitation in the gesture, knuckles faltering just before they made contact with the durasteel door. It's not like the knock would come as a surprise; you'd arranged to meet with Mason a little over a week ago, stalling the interaction as long as possible in hopes of avoiding the conversation it entailed. There had been no other exchange made over the week, only a few messages shared to decide when and where he wanted to talk, as he had put it; Mason had given no indication of the contents of the discussion he had planned, nothing that could aid in forming pre-made answers to whatever questions he would surely – and rightfully – have since Kylo Ren had made him a pawn in a game of which he was unaware.

In the time since Mason's cryptic text, you had made a purposeful effort at snubbing any thoughts of your Master; the sight of his signature, indicating the prohibition of your practice on any patient other than him, blared red in its memory. After hours of tachycardic deliberation trying to make sense of it, which ultimately ended in a few tear-stained pillowcases and more than a couple headaches, you concluded it was a pointless pursuit. Kylo Ren did what Kylo Ren wanted; he was never required to explain himself, and you were sure if you asked him – especially in the throes of the rage he'd inspired – whatever answer he might provide would only create more questions.

Since the stormtrooper hub was off limits, your days had vacated whatever routine they may have once held. In the wake of avoiding Mason and mentally blocking Kylo the only thing you could focus on was the impending doom which the trial promised, imagining how your decapitated head would sound as it hit the floor with a dull thud, wondering if its echo would be audible through the live broadcast. The thought crept into your subconscious, filling your nights with nightmares of every legal way of execution the First Order recognized – electric guillotine, fatal injection, or the rather malicious way of exploding a solo transport shuttle in the depths of space. Every slumber offering a new plot with the same inevitable ending.

In honoring a self-set pact, you wouldn't allow yourself to quell the terrors by getting off to lascivious thoughts, the ones which threatened to appear whenever you would accidentally think of how your Master had left you. He had just come from signing your rights away, and there was nothing in his demeanor that indicated he saw anything wrong in his actions. He didn't, you were sure, but acknowledging that fact only tightened your jaw and twitched your nose, your tongue buzzing with every practiced speech you'd imagined in your free time.

Between all that currently plagued your mind you barely had time to fret over returning to your own residence; although you didn't want to credit Ren with any good thing, you couldn't ignore the fact that you felt safer knowing the new security that'd been installed – which, to your surprise, included a whole new door – was only accessible using the keycard he'd provided. Well, essentially; in one quick trip from the cafeteria you'd bumped into a stormtrooper and lost the original card, having to take an afternoon to get a replacement coded to the new identification system.

There was limited power in the technological safety, your nights filled with intermittent shallow bouts of paranoid sleep, never getting more than three unbroken hours before jolting up and scanning the room for intruders. It wasn't an ideal situation, no, but at least you had somewhere to go, relieved you didn't have to ask Mason to crash again, grateful you didn't need to skulk back to Kylo Ren after he'd figuratively spit on any prospects you might've had at redeeming yourself in the eyes of the Board of Physicians.

Now, though, the buffer of time had come and passed, your watch indicating it was ten minutes past the agreed upon meeting time. Three of the ten had passed as you stood here, stalling the unavoidable interaction while simultaneously feeling guilty for being late. Delicately tapping the tips of your knuckles to the door, you hoped maybe Mason wouldn't hear and you could later explain that you had shown up but he hadn't been there. Though, that plan quickly turned to dust when you were met with the injured eyes of your friend.