Chapter Text
Vrenn doesn’t cry.
He doesn’t cry when to his right, his friend is hit with a disruptor shot to her head, and for one terrifying moment, his eyes meet hers; before he can reach out, she is gone. He doesn’t cry when he presses the wound of another in a hopeless attempt to stop the bleeding and when the warm liquid trickles in-between his fingers he closes his eyes and hums.
He doesn’t cry during the body-less funerals; a theatre of grief and fake condolences. He swallows bitter words and tries to honor the dead one last time.
He doesn’t even cry when they give him a medal.
But he feels something break softly when he pointedly doesn’t look at Lakat in the elevator. He takes a breath, but when the cold air enters his throat he almost chokes.
It doesn’t matter right now.
Vrenn doesn’t cry, but in this one moment, he thinks it would’ve felt good if he did.