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It's been a few hours and the dust has finally settled.
The Senate is still standing, barely. Most of the damage is superficial, thank the Ka'ra, and what little structural damage there is will be easily fixed. They're already starting work, the Guard engineers working in tandem with local builders. The Senators are all squared away, lying on their fainting couches and simpering pathetically.
Bail is still wandering around, his arm in a sling. Fox is almost glad that Padmé is too concussed to walk, it means she is being watched too closely to make a nuisance of herself. The blast threw debris everywhere, including shards of glass into Riyo's face. She's completely fine, and was released from Carrion's tender loving care hours ago.
Her injuries should've put her at the bottom of the list, but Carrie and the rest of the Guard are much too fond of her for that.
She's trailing after Bail protectively, making sure he doesn't get himself into trouble and helping him when he needs the use of two hands.
Thorn and Thire have things well in hand. Fox's shift ended hours ago, but he has one last thing to take care of.
He knocks on the door.
There's no answer.
"I know you're in there," he calls softly.
There's the sound of someone shifting inside the room.
"Go away."
Fox sighs.
"I know you're hurt, Game."
Silence.
"Please," he says, "let me in."
It's silent for a long time. Fox counts his breaths and waits. Eventually, she speaks up.
"I can't," she says.
"Ad'ika," Fox tries, "you need help. Let me help you."
"I can't- I don't want-"
"I know, I know sweetie. But it's just me. I promise it will just be me."
More silence as Game turns it over in her mind. Fox waits, holding his breath.
"Promise?" she asks, her voice small and fragile.
"I promise sweetie," he says, resting his forehead on the door. "Just. Let me in."
There's a few more shuffling noises and then the door opens, revealing a sliver of Game's face. Her mascara was streaked down her cheeks, pupils blown wide and her cheeks a little pale.
"Why don't we go sit on the sofa in my office," he coaxes.
After a few seconds she nods, hesitantly. The door to her office opens further and she shuffles out. Fox steps back to give her space, and she starts walking towards his door. Her gait is pained and awkward, and he wants to reach out and catch her by the elbow to steady her.
He doesn't though.
Instead, he opens the office and steps back to let her through. She shuffles past him, then eases down onto the sofa, her face contorted in pain. She's still in her uniform. Still covered in blood and brick dust.
He should've been here sooner.
"Here," he says, pulling a bottle of water from his cupboard, "drink a little."
She nods, her arm cradled against her chest.
Fox passes her the bottle, then turns back to the cupboard and pulls out the medikit. He sets it down on the kaf table and watches her, watches how her fingers twitch and tremble around the bottle, how her prosthetic arm is cradled limply in her lap.
"Your prosthetic is heavy," he murmurs, "you should take it off."
Game looks at him with big eyes over the bottle of water. She nods hesitantly, wiping water from the chin with the back of her hand. He takes the bottle and sets it on the table while she carefully removes her prosthetic arm and places it on the table in front of them.
"Have you taken any painkillers?" Fox asks quietly. Game shakes her head dazedly, wincing.
"Didn't have any in my office," she mumbles, staring at the table.
Fox studied her carefully. He sat down slowly, careful not to jostle her.
"Game-"
"I know, I know," she says, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks.
"I know you've had a bad week," Fox murmurs. "And you're feeling very-"
He searches for the words but he's not sure what to say.
Dysphoric?
Depressed?
Ugly?
"I know you aren't doing great right now," he settles on. "But sweetheart, I need to take a look at your chest."
"Buir," she cries, still clutching her chest with her flesh hand. "I-"
"I know," he says, reaching out and squeezing her hand, "I know. But it's just you and me ad'ika. I need to make sure you're okay."
"I can't," Game says, her hand shaking. "I can't- I don't-"
"I'll be as quick as possible," Fox reassures her. "It's just me. You can do this sweetie."
Game looks at him, teardrops gathered on her eyelashes, cutting tracks through the dried mascara on her cheeks.
"It hurts," she whispers.
Fox cups her cheek.
"I know ad'ika," he says. "But if you just let me have a look, I can give you some painkillers."
Game nods, snivelling.
"Okay," she says, yet more tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. "Okay."
"Just you and me," Fox says. She nods, shaking.
He's careful as he helps her out of her formal greys. She whimpers as he helps pull her arm out of her jacket. As they work her other arm out, the sleeve catches on the attachment port. The noise of discomfort she makes when it happens feels like a knife to Fox's heart.
All the while, Game keeps her eyes screwed shut.
He ends up just cutting the top half of her undersuit off. They have plenty of spares and he can't take causing her any more pain.
Still, her eyes are screwed shut.
There's a gash in her lower stomach. That's okay, he'd seen the dark red stain through her uniform. He'd already guessed that it had stopped bleeding, and thankfully he'd been right.
It's her chest that's causing him to worry at the moment. The right side is black and red, blood blooming up under her skin. He just prays that she hasn't got a punctured lung, because he can't treat that by himself. He'll need to involve Carrion and Game will just get more upset.
This week has been hard, because there's no way he can help her with her dysphoria. He can just cuddle her and feel useless. It doesn't help that she'd rather be alone.
Watching her slowly spiral, over and over, is always awful. He can only pray that she will pull herself through it, like she has every time before.
"Just keep breathing," Fox tells her, as he gently presses his fingers against her ribs.
He can't feel any sharp edges, and thankfully nothing makes her cry out in pain.
"Okay," he says, "now. Take a deep breath."
"It hurts," Game whimpers.
"I know, I know," Fox says, stroking her sweaty curls. "Last thing. I promise."
She nods, hands shaking and her eyes screwed shut. He presses his ear to her chest as she breathes in. She flinches when he touches her, so he squeezes her hand comfortingly.
There's no grinding of bones, no rattling or bubbling noises. Fox breathes out in relief.
"Well done ad'ika," he said, squeezing her hand, "you're doing amazing sweetie. Let me give you some painkillers, stitch up that wound, and then you can relax."
He preps the hypospray as quickly as he can manage, now that she's not bleeding out internally and her lungs aren't slowly filling with fluid. Game's sigh of relief as he depresses the plunger and the pain relief floods her veins is downright heart-breaking.
Fox cleans up the gash in her stomach, then sprays that and the bruising on her chest with bacta. That done, he grabs the blankets from his cupboards and covers her in them, completely.
"Alright ad'ika," he says, stroking her hair out of her eyes, "there we go. All done."
He sits beside her on the sofa and she slumps into his side. Her movements are already easier, and she breathes out again.
"You want me to call Pipes? Riyo?" Fox asks, scratching the back of her head with her fingernails.
"No," Game mumbles. "Can you just… can we just cuddle for a bit?"
"Sure thing Ad'ika, sure thing."