Nightmare - #12 - SW:RepCom - Ordo / Besany
Title: Nightmare
Pairing: Null Arc 11 - Ordo / Agent Besany Wennen
Fandom: Star Wars: Republic Commando
Rating: PG
Word Count: 369
Theme: #12 - Sleep Deprivation
Comm: 30_distractions
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe on the rights of any copyright holder. Characters belong to their respective owners.
Summary: It's enough to keep her up at night.
Edited - 09.20.2008
(Prompt Table)
There are times when she feels inexplicably lost in her carefully arranged life. She tries not to dwell on these moments as they come, though they’ve come in increasing succession. Instead she puts her eyes to the datascreens and stare at tax audits until her pupils burn and her face aches and her lunch break is taken a little early because she suddenly, desperately needs air.
Sometimes it’s not enough.
The mid-morning skylanes are as crowded as the mid-day’s-filled with airspeeders and metrocabs and blasting horns and raging obscenities-but not as much as evening’s. She’s on her fifth cup of caffa with no cream and too much sugar and cautiously toeing the line at the tapcaf for an extra box of glazed nuts and cheffa cake for the visitors who never come.
When she closes her eyes-on her pillow, down in line, back at work, on the way home, and everywhere in between-she sees Dad sinking beneath sterile white sheets, smiling with a hundred IV lines plugged into his skin while a medical droid's monitor beeps his life away.
And then he isn’t Dad, he’s Fi-close cropped black curls, tan skin, sunken eyelids, and calm disposition.
But that’s wrong too, because his shoulders are too broad, face too scarred, hair lightened from exposure, eyes too calculating and too serious.
Then they open and it’s like looking into a window of a person who sees everything, processes everything, and feels everything all at once.
And her heart breaks, because he isn’t Dad, isn’t Fi, isn’t anyone but Ordo… and Ordo does not see her. Does not see anything, anymore-but sinks beneath sterile white sheets and continues to smile as the meddroid ticks his life away.
Besany opens her eyes and stares at the clerk who’s been calling her: “Miss? Hello, Miss?” nearly a hundred times. The line’s near tripled behind her, leading man and Twi’lek and Rodian and Iridonian to a plasteel countertop laced with baked desserts and her spare credits. Irritated glances cast pointedly her way almost bother her-almost-if only she had just a little more energy and a little more caffa and a lot more sleep.
A lot more sleep.
Pairing: Null Arc 11 - Ordo / Agent Besany Wennen
Fandom: Star Wars: Republic Commando
Rating: PG
Word Count: 369
Theme: #12 - Sleep Deprivation
Comm: 30_distractions
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe on the rights of any copyright holder. Characters belong to their respective owners.
Summary: It's enough to keep her up at night.
Edited - 09.20.2008
(Prompt Table)
There are times when she feels inexplicably lost in her carefully arranged life. She tries not to dwell on these moments as they come, though they’ve come in increasing succession. Instead she puts her eyes to the datascreens and stare at tax audits until her pupils burn and her face aches and her lunch break is taken a little early because she suddenly, desperately needs air.
Sometimes it’s not enough.
The mid-morning skylanes are as crowded as the mid-day’s-filled with airspeeders and metrocabs and blasting horns and raging obscenities-but not as much as evening’s. She’s on her fifth cup of caffa with no cream and too much sugar and cautiously toeing the line at the tapcaf for an extra box of glazed nuts and cheffa cake for the visitors who never come.
When she closes her eyes-on her pillow, down in line, back at work, on the way home, and everywhere in between-she sees Dad sinking beneath sterile white sheets, smiling with a hundred IV lines plugged into his skin while a medical droid's monitor beeps his life away.
And then he isn’t Dad, he’s Fi-close cropped black curls, tan skin, sunken eyelids, and calm disposition.
But that’s wrong too, because his shoulders are too broad, face too scarred, hair lightened from exposure, eyes too calculating and too serious.
Then they open and it’s like looking into a window of a person who sees everything, processes everything, and feels everything all at once.
And her heart breaks, because he isn’t Dad, isn’t Fi, isn’t anyone but Ordo… and Ordo does not see her. Does not see anything, anymore-but sinks beneath sterile white sheets and continues to smile as the meddroid ticks his life away.
Besany opens her eyes and stares at the clerk who’s been calling her: “Miss? Hello, Miss?” nearly a hundred times. The line’s near tripled behind her, leading man and Twi’lek and Rodian and Iridonian to a plasteel countertop laced with baked desserts and her spare credits. Irritated glances cast pointedly her way almost bother her-almost-if only she had just a little more energy and a little more caffa and a lot more sleep.
A lot more sleep.