Work Text:
Trilla hissed as her raw back touched the sheets of the bunk, sending spikes of pain tearing down her spine. While mostly healed, the new scar tissue still felt fresh and painful. Having spent the last two hours trying in vain to find a comfortable position to sleep in, she sat up carefully, throwing the covers off frustratedly. Swinging her legs over the edge, she stood to make her way into the small kitchen.
The lights of the Mantis were dimmed slightly as everyone tried to get some rest, even Greez having gone to bed now that the ship was grounded safely. Gritting her teeth at the feeling of her wound pulling, she bent slightly to rifle through the storage cabinets, pulling out the container of Caf and preparing the machine. If she wasn’t going to be able to get any sleep, she might as well be properly awake.
Leaning against the counter, she gazed at the ship around her, taking in all the tiny details. The plants lining one wall, encased in glass and yet evidently cared for by a loving hand. The remnants of a card game left scattered on one of the tables. The few cushions that didn’t match the decor at all, but were comfortable all the same, in a disorganised pile in one corner of the couch. The blanket folded at one end. A spare jacket thrown over the back.
It looked like a home.
Being an Inquisitor, their surroundings had been anything but homey. They had done everything they possibly could to make sure that they would constantly be uncomfortable. Their clothes were uncompromising. Their quarters were cold and impersonal. Their sheets were rough and scratchy. After all, the last thing the Empire would want was for their Inquisitors to become soft .
It wasn’t like she’d never been around soft things before. But after being deprived of them for so long, being surrounded by them felt... strange.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Trilla jumped, cursing as her back protested. Turning stiffly back towards the counter to finish making her Caf, she glared at the intruder out of the corner of her eye.
“No.” Pouring the Caf into a mug, she relished in the warmth against her fingers. “Why are you up? Don’t children need their rest?”
Cal rolled his eyes, walking past her and down the steps to the couch. She watched as he sat down, his hand clutching his side as he did so.
She hadn't been very… present after their escape. The escape itself had been a confusing mess of pain and fear. Her back was torn open, her arm was around someone's neck and they were running, chaos all around them. He had appeared. Cere had returned for them. A rush of water and then… nothing.
She'd briefly woken up when they were back on the ship and through the haze of pain, she'd seen the Padawan collapsed on the floor. Soaking wet, skin pale, lips blue, and a hole in his side.
This was the first time she'd really seen him since then. She'd seen flashes of him around the ship, but she'd been on bed rest for quite some time, as had he. She had to admit that she was slightly taken aback about how… casual he was acting around her.
"Just can't sleep. Didn't want to keep BD up."
"He's a droid."
"Droids need rest too." Cal glared, though without any real heat.
Trilla snorted derisively, going back to her Caf as Cal picked a datapad up off of the table and began scrolling through its contents. They remained silent for some time, existing peacefully in a way that was incredibly strange for the both of them.
Turning to place her mug into the sink, Trilla hissed in pain as a stab of agony shot up her back. She gripped the counter to steady herself and did her best to breathe through the pain.
"It's your back, isn't it?" Cal asked, peering up at her from over the top of his datapad.
"What business of yours is it?" She spat.
"We have some bacta gel on board. Should help a little with the pain at least."
"And how am I supposed to put it on? Use the Force, perhaps?"
"I can help if you want?"
"I've seen what your help is like." She purred. "Should we ask the Partisans what your help is worth?"
"Nice. Cheap shot." Cal huffed. "Do you want the Bacta or not?"
"... Fine."
Cal pushed himself up off of the sofa, disappearing through the doorway to the back of the ship. Trilla stared after him, puzzled. She had expected that last one to set him off at last. For him to come flying at her with fire in his eyes. That was their normal. But instead he had acted like she'd done nothing more than call him names. Like she hadn't just dangled something he felt such guilt over right in front of him.
He acted nothing like she had expected. And she didn't know how to react.
Re-emerging from the back of the ship with a small container in his hand, Cal made his way back over to the couch, gesturing for her to join him. She reluctantly pushed away from the counter to sit on the couch, tensing when the redhead sat behind her.
"I'm gonna have to lift the back of your shirt up a little. Is that okay?"
"I'm hardly some innocent little maiden, Kestis." She snarled. "Just get it done."
She felt the back of her shirt lift up just enough to expose her wound, and winced as she felt the first touch of his fingers. The Bacta gel was cooling, and soon enough she could feel it taking effect, soothing the pain. She relaxed as the gel did it's work, relieved at the small reprieve.
Her shirt was lowered back down, and she heard the small click of the lid going back on the gel. Shifting to sit on the couch properly, she studied Cal out of the corner of her eye.
The young Jedi was clearly exhausted. He was slumped against the back of the couch, looking like he could barely keep his eyes open, but Trilla knew that being tired most definitely did not mean you would be able to sleep. Seeing the protective hand he had curled back over his own wound, she opened her mouth before she could second guess herself.
"You should try sleeping upright." She said. Cal's head jerked up, as he stared at her confusedly.
"What?"
"Your side. That's why you're awake isn't it?" He nodded hesitantly. "Prop yourself up with some pillows. You might actually be able to sleep then."
"I… Okay." He said, still looking rather baffled. "Thank you?"
"Don't thank me, Kestis." Trilla stood up. "I don't want your tossing and turning keeping me up."
Making her way back into her room, she lay back down on her bed, pulling the covers back over her. Enjoying being pain free for the first time in days, she finally, finally , drifted off to sleep.
