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The silence only lasted for a moment.
Then came the screaming. Voices calling for help, wails of pain, and shouts of names that you couldn’t comprehend right away. It felt like your head was going to cave in, a persistent ringing piercing through your skull even as you lay stationary. Opening your eyes was grueling and it took all of your willpower not to slam them shut at the blinding light overhead.
The last few minutes came back to you in pieces as you blinked at the artificial sky over Coruscant. You had been trailing behind your senator one minute, discussing dinner party plans with your fellow aid when suddenly everything went dark. Now, soot and smoke adhered to the inside of your lungs, leaving a burnt taste on your tongue as you struggled to sit up.
Your heart sank, the glow of burning debris reflecting in your eyes as you sat stunned. Bodies were strewn around the walkway, the few conscious beings attempting to offer help as the senate building burned in the background. You were so absorbed by the tragedy before you that you missed the thundering footsteps growing closer.
“Get a medic!” a familiar voice shouted. The volume of their voice had you scrambling away, your brain reeling until a red-winged helmet became clearer. Thorn.
“Thorn?” you croaked, blinking rapidly. His head turned in your direction, pausing briefly before continuing to scan the area only to snap back to you at lightning speed. Every visible muscle locked up and he stood frozen for a moment before he was weaving through the mess, dropping to his knees at your side.
“Stars,” he breathed, hands hovering near your shoulders as he scanned your body.
“Thorn,” you gasped, throwing your arms around his shoulders, nearly knocking him on his ass.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, muffin,” he whispered, restraining himself from squeezing you too hard. “What the hell happened?” You tried to recount the incident again, going rigid against his chest before leaning away with renewed desperation.
“The others,” you gasped, weakly trying to get out of Thorn’s grip.
“Woah, slow down,” he argued, grabbing your scrambling hands.
“We - we have to help them,” you snapped, trying to tug your hand free but Thorn held on.
“No, I need to make sure you’re not injured,” he sighed, attempting to pull you into his chest again, “and I need you to tell me what happened.”
“I’m fine,” you growled, turning your head to meet his endless visor. A small part of you wished you could see his face but at the same time, it was probably for the best that it was concealed. “There are people that need help more than I do.”
“Stop,” Thorn barked, the tone of his voice piercing you like a blade. You sent still, focusing on the faceplate of his helmet again. Thorn had always been so sweet, tender in his gestures and never raising his voice in any serious situation with you. This was different, he sounded harsh, commanding. He’s doing his job, you absently realized. “Cut the shit and tell me what happened.”
“I - I…we were leaving the senate building,” you stammered, the surge of adrenaline already starting to dissipate. Thorn’s grip on your wrists loosened and his gloved thumb lightly pressed on your thundering pulse. “It - it was a bomb. Someone bombed the senate building.”
“You’re doing great, muffin, what else,” Thorn urged, helping you into a sitting position. You were vaguely aware of one of his hands running over the length of your arms before a palm came up to rest against your cheek as you recounted all the details you could.
“I woke up here but I have no idea how long it’s been,” was what you finished with, looking down at the duracrete beneath your legs. If it wasn’t for Thorn’s steady grip, the tremors racking your body would’ve been more obvious. It was no surprise Thorn was the one to physically hold you together, something he seemed to be an expert at.
“Good job, cyare,” Thorn whispered, cautiously pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you.” The weight of the situation hit you like a speeder and suddenly you were clinging to Thorn, clawing at his backplate in an attempt to get closer. You hadn’t realized you were crying until Thorn’s soft hushing crackled through his helmet's vocoder.
“Sorry,” you sniffled, hiding your face against his shoulder.
“Look at me,” he whispered, gently tapping your back. You leaned away just enough to see the front of his helmet and a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding rushed past your lips when he pushed the helmet up enough to rest on the crown of his head. The stray curl that had flopped onto his forehead caught your attention until Thorn cradled your face and forced you to meet his shining eyes. “I can’t begin to explain how happy I am that you’re alive. Do you understand that I could’ve lost you?”
“I know,” you hiccuped, resting your hands over his. That’s when you saw it: the soul-shattering fear still lingering in his eyes. The realization that you were luckier than some of your colleagues made your chest ache. Thorn must’ve seen it because he tipped his head forward, bumping his forehead against yours with a shaky sigh.
“I love you so much,” he breathed, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. “So if you could please sit still for five minutes and let a medic look over you, I’d appreciate it.” The laugh was hoarse and you almost didn’t recognize the sound as one from your own throat, but it did bring a smile to Thorn’s face. At least there was a bright side.
“I guess I can do that,” you managed to get out. You could still feel his smile when his lips met yours and you let him hold you together one more time.