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Very slowly, Dedra regained consciousness. Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to cling to the last image of her dream for a while. Clouds. Pleasant dreams of this kind were a rarity for her.
"Haaa..." Everything ached as she stretched with a yawn.
The unexpected cold air against her skin made her quickly flee back under the warm blanket, which was nice and soft, but noticeably heavier than usual. And there was a strangely familiar smell in the room that she couldn't quite identify. It made her feel safe, and she breathed it in for a while, feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time.
But something wasn't right. There was a reason why she hardly ever felt this way. She couldn't allow herself to feel like this.
With some effort, she lifted a hand to brush strands of hair from her face, but there seemed to be something else on her forehead. A faint movement beside her suddenly woke her from her drowsiness and she opened her eyes. It took her a while to realize that she wasn't in her own bedroom at all, and as she turned her head, she almost yelled out in shock when she saw the outline of a face in the darkness.
Syril Karn slept peacefully at her side, snoring softly into the pillow with his mouth half open.
Dedra's heart beat painfully fast in her chest and her anger put her in a sudden state of alertness. "YOU?!" Her voice was so hoarse that she had to cough.
"Mmhrrhmm." He moaned something unintelligible to her in his sleep, shoving his face closer to her neck. "Mmmmh." His lips were far too close to her ear and his deep moan made her cringe.
"Get away from me!" she hissed through gritted teeth, blindly reaching out in the darkness to push him away, but winced when she touched his warm skin as if she had burned her hand.
He awkwardly rolled over and let out a small sigh. "Hmhh? Did I wake you up? Sorry if I snored..."
The sudden lack of warmth at her side made her realize that they were not only in bed together, but also sharing one blanket. His leg was still lightly touching hers! She looked around furiously and could make out shadowy outlines next to her at the bedside. In a neatly folded pile of clothes was her blaster, half covered by an ugly orange jacket. Without him noticing, she grabbed the weapon and then saw her boots lying in front of the bed, terribly smudged with dirt and a strange... goo?
"What-" she began, not quite knowing which question to ask first, as she had far too many. She kept the blaster pointed at his abdomen under the blanket, looking forward to seriously injuring him once he had given her all the answers.
"What the hell happened to my boots?" she finally blurted out.
"Mmmhh?" Syril rubbed his eyes. "You did that." He seemed almost upset about it.
"Why would I do that?" she asked herself rather than him, looking down at her boots again.
Syril yawned. "Hhhaa... well... you didn't want to put on... different shoes..." he said sleepily, apparently believing that was a sufficient explanation. "Mmhhh.. why don't you try to sleep a little more..."
Dedra's eyes darted around in panic as his face came closer and closer to hers again. She tried to get up, but it triggered such a severe headache that she immediately collapsed back into the pillow. "Nnng-!"
"Mmhh... don't move around so much. You should lie still... your wounds..." he mumbled.
"Get. Away. From. Me." she growled and her grip on the blaster tightened. And if she had to endure one more little moan from him so close to her ear, she would shoot him on the spot.
Finally he backed away from her, slowly waking up. "Are you all right?"
His concern for her angered her even more. She clearly wasn't all right. Nothing here was all right. She took a few deep breaths and then finally asked, "Why... are we... in bed together...?"
"Oh. I really didn't want to bother you. Would you rather be alone now after all?" he asked a bit disappointed and sat up.
"What are you talking about? How did I end up in *this* bed with *you*?"
Syril just looked at her with a long, unblinking stare.
"Answer my question, Mr Karn!"
He winced when he heard his last name come out of her mouth and began to stammer. "Y-you've suffered a serious head injury. I'm afraid you have a concussion..." He almost touched her forehead, apparently out of habit, but immediately withdrew his hand when she glared fiercely at him. "Uhm- w-what is the last thing you remember?"
Dedra let her fingers slide over the blaster, trying to focus on something real and tangible. Without her gloves, the weapon felt cool in her sore hand.
Cold. It's so freezing cold. My fingers feel numb. My head hurts so much. They hit me in the head with one of their damn bricks. They've got me. I'm clawing my fingers into the ground with nowhere to hold on to. Red ground. Brick houses.
"Ferrix, Rix Road," she said curtly, raising her other hand to feel the wound on her forehead, which had apparently been covered with a bacta patch. "There was a riot."
Slowly, parts of her memory came back, but it hurt her almost physically to think of what had happened.
They're trampling me to death. I'm screaming my head off, but no one is helping me. They keep dragging me around. I'm gonna die here.
Dedra slowly turned her head to Syril and looked into his bright blue eyes.
You? How?
Your eyes.
You're just as scared as I am.
Smoke.
Clouds...
Fragments of memories kept whirring around in her head, mingling with images from her dream and she couldn't for the life of her keep her mind focused with this headache, and especially not when he was so close to her.
"The riot took place around noon," Syril finally whispered, and there was an anxious tone in his voice. "It's night now. You can't remember the last few hours at all?"
"What am I supposed to remember? Could you give me a hint?" she said with a feigned smile, but clearly audible annoyance. "Trust me, you'll regret it if you waste my time! I have more important things to do than deal with you."
Actually, Dedra had nothing to do and no idea what to do. Her mission had certainly failed. She didn't even know where she was, and to make matters worse, she was now in bed with *him* and had no clue how this could have happened in the first place.
"I suppose this must all be very confusing to you," he said, tugging lightly at the blanket they were sharing.
"Oh, that's an understatement, Mr Karn." She enjoyed the way he flinched again when she said his name. She decided to do what she did best. A simple questioning. "You're really trying my patience. Now, tell me, what happened after the riot?"
"I got you out of there and we hid for a while, but you were badly injured." he began, still mindlessly fiddling with the blanket. "There was this angry mob outside and you said that the safest thing to do would be to go out there together. You put on a disguise, this horrible orange jacket. Then you just grabbed some grease off the shelf. And then did *that* to your shoes." Dedra could hear a hint of disgust in Syril's voice. He was actually as upset about her dirty boots as she was.
"A disguise," Dedra said in disbelief and looked again at her boots, which had turned reddish-brown from the strange goo.
"Yes. So you could better mingle with the crowd. The disguise was actually my suggestion, because I noticed right at the beginning that these scrappers have almost no clean clothes, let alone a nice white uniform or shiny boots like yours," Syril said, somewhat sheepishly.
"You have an eye for details like that, don't you?" said Dedra rather snidely, but judging from his tiny smile, he seemed to take it as a compliment.
"Then there was this explosion. We just ran and barely made it to one of those shuttle ferries. And then you had this idea-" Syril paused for a second, looked at her briefly, and then immediately averted his eyes again to continue fiddling with the blanket.
"What kind of idea?" Dedra was really tired of having to worm information out of him and her eyelid twitched as she heard the constant rustling of fabric. Although Syril still hadn't noticed that she had the blaster pointed at him under the blanket, she continued to tap the trigger impatiently with her finger, just very lightly, to calm herself. Usually it was easy for her to keep her composure during questioning, but there was something about him that just made her nervous.
"Well, to avoid attracting attention you suggested that we pretend to be- uhm-" he swallowed and needed a brief moment longer to utter the next word. "...civilians. Your deception was quite effective. And that's how we blended in, escaped on a ferry shuttle, and now ended up here."
Dedra was shivering and she pulled the blanket over her a little more, yanking it out of his hands so that he would finally stop playing with it. "Judging by the cold in this room, we're still on Ferrix?"
"Yes."
At night, the cold on this planet was almost unbearable, she had already found that out when she arrived and had to spend a terrible night in the hotel that had been turned into the headquarters. She wasn't cold anymore now, but her hands couldn't stop shaking for some reason.
"Where exactly are we?"
"I don't know the name of the town here, I didn't look at the destination of the ferry shuttle to be honest." Syril answered meekly, now seemingly at a loss as to what to do with his hands, and began to pick at his fingers."But this is Willi's apartment. More precisely, his guest room."
Dedra raised an eyebrow. "Who's Willi?"
"Old gentleman with a mustache," Syril said. "He wouldn't stop talking to us on the ferry, and he wore that awful hat..."
Dedra had to concentrate on keeping a neutral expression on her face. If the situation hadn't been so absurd, she might even have laughed. Was he being serious? They had somehow narrowly escaped death and he was complaining about people's hats?
"This Willi... can we trust him?" she asked, looking around suspiciously.
"He's hardly a threat at all."
"And he just happened to be kind enough to let us stay in this room overnight so we could rest?"
"Exactly."
"But there was only this one bed?"
"...yes."
Dedra gave him a piercing look. "And you just had to snuggle up to me?"
For a moment Syril looked at her with a strange expression that she could not interpret. "It was just part of the deception. I assure you that you- that WE are safe." He tried to speak in a soothing voice, although it was clear that something was tormenting him. "And as I said, if you'd rather be alone right now after all, I can sleep on the floor or leave the room..." He began to get up from the bed.
"No," Dedra said firmly. "You're staying here." It wasn't a request, but a demand.
He immediately slipped back under the blanket, but kept his distance, looking at her expectantly, not daring to move.
Dedra had always enjoyed teasing answers out of people, but this time she was very, very uncomfortable. Pretty much everything he said sounded odd, but she was good at recognizing when someone was lying.
...and she still remembered very clearly the day he had told her that he would never lie to her. She hadn't been able to forget his words so easily, no matter how much she tried.
"So we got in this bed together... as part of the deception!? What do you mean by that?" She wasn't sure anymore if she really wanted to know the whole truth.
"We were just pretending to be- normal civilians, and then Willi thought, well... that we... that we are a couple," he said with a sigh. "And of course, you took advantage of that and, uhh, executed that deception very convincingly."
Dedra blinked. "What?"
A rush of adrenaline overwhelmed her and made her heart skip a beat.
"Yes, rather silly, isn't it? He's way too gullible. Anyway, at least we can spend the night here for free," Syril said as casually as possible, but the trembling in his voice was impossible to overhear. "Tomorrow I'll figure out how to get us to the spaceport so we can catch the next flight to Coruscant from there."
Dedra, for the first time in her entire career, didn't dare to ask another question. She didn't even dare to say anything at all. If she opened her mouth now, the words would surely get stuck in her throat. Why would anyone think they were a couple? It was silly, he was right. And yet she had apparently set this up, and she cursed her former self for it.
Fortunately, Syril ended the silence. "All we have to do is wait a few more hours until morning. You should get some more sleep."
"I have no idea how I'm going to fall asleep with you lying next to me," she murmured, though she hadn't really meant to say it out loud. "In this cold," she added quickly.
"At least try to get some rest. Here..." Syril pulled the blanket over them both, leaving her with most of it, and the air around her was suddenly filled with the strong scent of his body.
And there it was - a very clear, damn real memory flashing from her subconscious of that very smell, *his* smell that had soothed her earlier, her face on his chest, his arms on her back and his pleasant body heat.
No. No no no. No way.
It couldn't possibly be a real memory. It had just been a silly dream.
"Uughhh-" she groaned, rubbing her temples. Syril was right, she probably had a concussion. As long as she was lying still, the headache was at least bearable. The blaster in her hand was the only thing that gave her a connection to reality at that moment. Solid, cool, deadly. She had to keep it together.
"We'll get home, don't worry," Syril whispered softly, oblivious to the danger he was in. "I'll take care of everything. And then you'll get proper treatment for your injuries."
Dedra carefully touched her wounds under the blanket. Even if she herself had forgotten what had happened in the last few hours, her body had not. She had abrasions all over her body, some of which had been treated with bacta patches. Her hands and feet felt sore. Her lungs still hurt when she breathed.
It was important to keep calm now and she decided for the time being to actually stay here in bed with him. And just in case he did something foolish, she kept her finger on the trigger. She allowed herself to close her eyes and tried to piece together her few fragments of memory.
We're running through the smoke-filled streets. With all my strength I cling to your arm. Everything hurts. I can't breathe.
Too many people, everyone is screaming at me, it's all too much, too loud.
And then suddenly it's so terribly quiet. I feel your hand in mine. When I look into your eyes, it's like looking into a mirror.
We are in the clouds. Your lips taste sweet...
Dedra's eyes snapped open and she stared at the ceiling. It was just a damn dream. Nothing more. And she hated herself for the fact that when she had woken up earlier, she had wanted it to be real. If only for a second. It infuriated her that her imagination had created such a thing in the first place and her mind was still vehemently clinging to it, when all she wanted was to find out the truth.
Cautiously, she looked to the side and Syril was also lying wide awake, staring at the ceiling just like her. Their eyes met for a brief moment, but immediately they both turned their faces away from each other and looked in opposite directions.
"Don't you want to get some sleep too?" Dedra asked in an embarrassingly shaky voice, which didn't sound as casual as she would have liked.
"Uhhm- I don't really know if I can sleep in this cold either. To be honest, I haven't slept much lately anyway because of you." He nervously cleared his throat. "I mean- because I'm worried about you."
"Oh, I'm really sorry that I'm depriving you of your sleep," she said without a trace of pity.
A wave of exhaustion came over her, and although it felt good to close her eyes again, it was still pointless. Something deep in her consciousness prevented her from falling asleep. One last question was gnawing at her incessantly. As long as this one piece of the puzzle was missing from her memory, she couldn't allow herself to relax.
A tug on the blanket made her open her eyes again. The bed creaked as Syril turned around and accidentally touched her leg with his foot. He was shifting and twitching to get comfortable and finally curled up with a deep sigh. His soft breathing seemed to grow louder in her ears every second. She was hyper-aware of of his every movement, no matter how small.
Out of sheer curiosity, she had occasionally imagined what it would be like to be in bed with someone. And her expectations were now confirmed. It was terrible. Almost like torture. How could some people endure this willingly?
Still, it was actually quite pleasant to feel his body heat next to her, she had to admit.
Dedra heard a sniffle beside her and exhaled in frustration. One more sound from him and she would shoot him, this was simply unbearable! She dared another look at him and was surprised to see that Syril was lying with his back to her. If she pointed the gun at his head now, he wouldn't even notice. He had no idea how dangerous it was to turn his back on her. It felt indecent to see him so deliciously vulnerable. As if she had accidentally seen him completely naked. Banishing those thoughts from her mind as quickly as possible, she again noticed Syril sniffling and then wiping something from his eyes with the pillow.
Enough.
"Syril."
"Hh-*sniff* hhh?" he turned around and blinked as if waking from a dream.
"Are you crying?" Dedra said and it angered her that her voice sounded so worried.
"I- I'm fine. It's just the cold."
This answer was obviously not the whole truth. Maybe a different tactic was called for. And Dedra concentrated immensely, using all her strength to fake something. Compassion.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she said with unusual tenderness. "Is there anything that's on your mind that you want to talk about?" At least, she thought it was the right tone of voice. She had heard it in others.
It didn't feel right, yet she was interested in his answer. She shouldn't care. She had learned never to be sorry for anything. It was easier that way. But she almost felt sorry for him. She reminded herself, that she shouldn't feel anything like concern.
Syril's voice was only a whisper. "The most important thing is that you're okay. You'd better go to sleep now. I assure you I won't disturb you."
Every single one of his breaths had disturbed her so far.
"I don't feel tired," she lied. She was terribly tired and annoyed at how weak she felt again, now that the adrenaline in her veins was starting to wear off.
"If I'm keeping you awake, I'll go-" Syril was about to get up again.
"Stay here," Dedra ordered. Then she gently pushed the blanket over to him. "Stay with me," she said in a convincingly affectionate tone, which surprised her a little herself.
She had to keep up this facade, had to get him to answer her this last question. She *needed* the answer. Otherwise, not only would she not get a wink of sleep this night, but she wouldn't be able to sleep any other night at all.
Leaning closer to him, she took a deep look at his eyes and raised her eyebrows. "Syril? What's upsetting you? Did something happen... between us?"
His body tensed more and more the closer she got to his face, and Syril obviously wasn't sure if he wanted to move away from her or get closer.
"What happened between us wasn't anything serious," he said softly, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "And I know, you were just pretending to... like me. I know you don't think much of me. You did it to protect us, I understand that. And we just kept each other warm in bed." He exhaled heavily, as if to convince himself with his own words. "That didn't mean anything either. But it felt nice to pretend. And of course I don't expect you to want to repeat what happened tonight."
The glint in his eyes suddenly seemed so familiar to her. Even though her mind fought against it, her body remembered being so close to him. She couldn't stand how much his face mesmerized her. His breathing became noticeably slower. This was ridiculous. She had to get this sorted out, and fast.
Quick and easy.
Do it.
Go.
Just ask him.
JUST ASK HIM.
ASK!
"Did we make out with each other?"
There was a long, long pause. Barely audible, he whispered into the darkness, "Perhaps slightly."
Dedra swallowed and her heart pounded too loudly in her ears to let her think clearly. She managed to nod awkwardly, trying her hardest to maintain an indifferent expression. And judging by Syril's tense face, she could only assume that he, too, was struggling to stay calm, but was clearly not managing it as well as she was.
Clearing his throat, Syril leaned slightly closer to her. "In fact, you started kissing me when we were on the ferry. That was a good cover. Very effective. People left us alone."
She felt her whole body tingle at this confession. They both panted, feeling each other's heavy breathing on their faces.
"And we just continued to..." She couldn't bring herself to say the word. "...do that in here, in this bed, even though we were alone in this room?"
"I know it didn't mean anything, you just did it in the heat of the moment, I don't blame you, really..."
"Blame me??"
A stuttering moan left his mouth, "B-but if you'd like to do it again, I would-"
"NO." She groaned. That was a lie. But he didn't need to know that. She regretted asking him what they had done together. She would have preferred to remain in the dark about it. Even though it had supposedly felt so good, she hadn't been able to stop. So good, in fact, that it had burned itself deep into her subconscious.
"Of course not," he whispered and tried imperceptibly to be closer to her lips. "What happened between us was nothing serious."
She took a deep breath while he stared at her lips with a tense expression. She could smell him. His breath, his sweat, his...
That's it.
Very carefully, she lifted the blanket and uncovered the blaster she had been pointing at him the whole time. His eyes widened and he froze. Slowly, she placed the weapon aside, back on the pile of clothes. She wouldn't need it anymore. But she wanted him to know what she had been willing to do. She wanted him, this silly little dream, to realize what a nightmare she could be. Without saying anything, she put the blanket back over them both and moved closer to him until their shoulders touched.
"You're lucky it was nothing serious. Getting this close to me doesn't end well for most people."
"Understood," he breathed.
For what felt like the hundredth time, Dedra let out a deep sigh, as if a heavy burden had fallen from her heart. "We were just pretending."
She sounded more confident than she felt.
The room went silent once more. Now that he was holding his breath in fear and lying completely stiff next to her, it was finally, finally quiet. A paralyzing tiredness overcame her again and she found it difficult to keep her eyes open.
Clouds.
Sugary sweet lips.
Everything felt real.
And when the sun touched her eyelids the next morning, she didn't open them, and wouldn't let go of the dream this time. It was a silly little dream worth clinging to.