40

Everything was dark around her.

Saedii took several long, gasping breaths, trying to slow the aching expansion of her chest, which felt sore. In the dark, her hands slipped down over her body, finding herself in one piece. Cold hard metal pressed into her cheek, burning against her bare skin.

She wasn't sure where she was. In her haste to get away, Saedii hadn't paid attention to where she'd been going. She'd only known she needed to get away from everyone – from anyone that might be hurt just for standing too close.

There had been faint flashes of doors. Empty hallways that seemed to warp and stretch forever into the distance, an unending maze that threatened to trap her just as the nightmares had.

One of the doors had opened when she'd pushed. It had been dark and small – a welcome reprieve from the open, too bright cafeteria.

How long ago had that been? Saedii didn't know. It could have been moments or hours. Her body had moved on autopilot, searching for escape like she'd done so many times in her nightmares with Krell.

Something burned along her cheeks, trailing down to the cold metal beneath. Saedii's breath caught as the tears dampened her skin, collecting in the loose expanse of her hair. They felt like liquid fire against her cool skin.

Her body was curled into a ball on the ground. Around her, she could sense the four walls close by. The faint outlines of old crates and abandoned blaster cartridges, and other piles of junk whispered to her in the Force.

No living people. No one she could hurt.

Safe.

Violent spasms rippled down her body. Adrenaline had burned so hot in her veins only moments before, and now that it was fading, her blood felt like ice. She imagined blue flocks of hoarfrost taking root under her skin, blooming in icy petals along her arms. Turning her into exactly as she felt on the inside – an empty block of ice.

It did nothing to stop the image behind her eyes. The sight of Gregor's twisted and broken arm burned in her mind like hot coals, refusing to simmer away. The expression on his face, twisted with agony, burrowed in like barbed wire, ripping and tearing whenever she tried to force it away.

She was a monster. Vile and evil and unsalvageable.

Krell's voice hissed in her ear.

You have no hope of redemption.

You have nothing to fight for. No life outside of these walls.

You are nothing.

He'd been right.

There was nothing good left in her. Nothing redeemable to stave off the monster that prowled beneath her skin. Krell had unleashed a terrible darkness in her – a darkness that had consumed her whole.

Cere had been wrong. There was no healing. No coming back from this. How could she trust herself after all the terrible things that she'd done? How could she trust herself now that she knew what she was capable of?

Breaths whistled out from her teeth, short and fast. Her lungs felt like they were frozen. She was sure she couldn't breathe.

Under her ear, the floor echoed with footsteps nearby. Heavy concern flooded the Force around her, consuming her like a tidal wave.

They stopped outside of her door. Voices softly whispered to one another, and Saedii heard her name mixed in.

A light knock sounded.

"Saedii."

Hunter's voice. It was confident – not a question if she was in there, but an acknowledgement. He knew she was there.

Of course he did. She could never hope to hide from him and his heightened senses. She doubted it had taken him any time at all to find her.

The door rattled. Locked, then. At least she'd remembered that in her haste to get away.

"Come on, kid. I know you're in there," he said.

Silence was her answer. He was safer in the hall – safer away from her. Didn't he realize how many ways the human body could be hurt? How much it could bleed?

She did.

"Can you open the door? Please?"

Still, she didn't move. She wondered idly if he would leave with her continued silence.

She should have known better. His voice was edged in anguish as he added, "I don't want to have Wrecker break down the door, but I will if you don't answer. Please, just let me know you're alright."

"Go away," she said, voice thin.

A faint rush of relief filled the Force. Someone whispered to him before a set of footsteps wandered off, disappearing down the hall.

"I'll give you your privacy," he promised. "But can you please just unlock the door? For my own peace of mind?"

Even after everything she'd done, he still cared enough to want to stop her if she tried to hurt herself.

For a moment, Saedii lingered with her head against the floor. The cool metal felt nice against her flushed face. Her breathing was still too fast, too light.

Then, with a shuddering breath of defeat, she unlocked the door.

True to his word, Hunter didn't come in. From the other side, she heard as he sat down on the floor, leaning his back up against it. Giving her space while still staying close.

Saedii curled back into the floor, pulling her necklace firmly into her hand.

"Gregor's fine," Hunter said after a few long moments of silence. "It wasn't a bad break. AZI fixed it in no time."

That wasn't enough to make her feel better. Gregor should have never been hurt in the first place. If Saedii hadn't been so damaged, he wouldn't have even needed to see AZI.

"He asked me to apologize to you. Said he was sorry that he scared you."

Why was everyone trying to take her blame? Why couldn't they just accept it was her fault? That she alone was guilty?

"It's really not your fault, kid. After everything you've been through, we should have expected –"

"Please, just leave me alone," she begged. Her voice sounded choked and haggard even to her own ears.

Ironic that in the past year, all she'd been was alone. What a cruel trick of fate that, now that she was here and surrounded by family and friends once more, she finally craved solitude. And even crueler still that she knew she wouldn't get it.

After a beat of silence, Hunter admitted, "I can't let you be alone. Not until I know you're alright."

Alright?

He wanted to know if she was alright?

The thought was almost laughable. Could he not see the bloodstains on her hands? The cracks that crisscrossed her body, as black as the furthest reaches of space? Could he not see the pointed teeth of the monster that stared out from behind her eyes?

A hot rush of anger burned in her veins.

"I'm not alright," she insisted, half hysterical. "I'll never be alright again. Krell ruined every good thing about me."

"That's not true."

"How can you say that after what I did to Gregor? After what I did to Razz and Hue, and all the others?"

"You didn't mean –"

"It doesn't matter what I meant. It only matters what I did."

The floor felt like it was spinning beneath her. The breath in her lungs felt too thin. She shut her eyes against the walls that threatened to cave in.

"Breathe, kid," Hunter said softly. "You're not in trouble. Just take a few deep breaths."

Shivering, Saedii tried. Something churned in her stomach as the floor felt like it was readying to leap into hyperspace, and she gritted her teeth. For a dangerous moment, she was sure she would pass out.

"Deep breaths. You can do it."

Her chest expanded as she sucked in a long breath, pulling it to the very bottom of her lungs. Then she released it, slowly. She did it again and again until the floor finally stopped moving and that dizzying feeling in her gut died off.

"There you go. Just relax for a moment. You're okay."

The cool metal floor felt nice against her flushed skin. Saedii leaned into it, trying to time her breathing to the soft ebb and flow of the Force around her.

He was quiet for a moment. Now that Saedii's own breathing was calming down, she could hear the soft rasps of his breaths. They were even. Calm, even if the Force around him was frenzied with worry.

"I'm not the girl you lost, Hunter," Saedii whispered. He had to realize that by now.

"Yes, you are." There was an edge to his voice now. A determination. "You're still you. You've got a long road ahead of you. It'll just take time to feel –"

She choked on a breath. Did he really think time would save her? "You can't save me from this. From what I did. No one can."

"You didn't do anything –"

"I hurt people. Killed people. Innocent people."

He fell silent once again. More tears burned salty lines down Saedii's cheeks.

"I killed Cid and burned down her bar," Saedii told him, speaking into the floor. Her body tensed as she waited for him to finally realize the truth – that she was damaged and broken.

To her surprise, the Force didn't flood with disappointment or disgust. It remained idle, tinged only with his worry for her.

"I know," he said carefully.

But he couldn't know. Not really.

"You don't get it. I killed Thrall and the four men who were just in for a kriffing drink –"

"I know, kid. I know about all of it."

The stone prickled against her palm as she squeezed it tighter. He sounded sure, but he couldn't really mean that, could he? If he truly knew what she'd done, he wouldn't be sitting here with her now.

As if he could sense her doubt, he explained, "Tech was able to recover your camera feed from the helmet you left on Nal Kapok, remember?"

She remembered then. Hunter had told her as much when she'd been in the cell. Then, she'd brushed it another part of the vision.

But it hadn't been. They'd seen.

Her stomach churned as she thought over everything they might have been on that video. All the times Krell had beaten her, belittled her, taunted her, and all the times she'd obeyed him – they'd have seen it all. The worst moments of her life. Her greatest shame.

Saedii wondered who'd seen it. Who had borne witness to the worst things she'd ever been forced to do. The thought of Omega, in particular, seeing Saedii's sins made her go still. She didn't want Omega to know what Saedii had done to protect her.

"We saw all of it," he said, voice low. "The fortress, Ord Mantell, Nal Kapok – everything."

Her hand shook at her throat. "Then you know what I've done."

"What you were forced to do."

"I killed a little boy. A Jedi youngling that I knew from the Temple."

Pity flooded the Force like a solar flare. "I know."

"He was younger than Omega," she said, trying to make him understand just how truly vile she was. How far she'd fallen. "He begged me, and I still –"

More tears blistered against her skin. She couldn't finish.

"Saedii, none of that was your fault." Hunter's tone was resolute.

"I killed Amp, too. On Nur. I used the Dark Side to break his neck."

There was a brief pause. Then, "You wouldn't have done that if you'd had any other choice."

Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "How can you make excuses for me after everything you've seen? After what I did to Tech and Wrecker and the others –"

"No one blames you."

"They should."

That pity turned to pain. Pain – not for the people she'd hurt, but for her. Hunter cared only for her well-being. For her own emotional and physical state.

She didn't deserve his empathy.

"You should have left me on Nur."

"Hey." There was a shuffling sound, like he was climbing to his feet. She could only imagine the expression on his face. For the first time, he sounded angry. "That was never going to happen."

"I'm dangerous," she said miserably. "A monster. I don't deserve –"

"You deserve to rest and heal – and forgive yourself for the things you were forced to do," he argued vehemently.

Voice breaking, she promised, "I won't get better. Nothing will make this better."

More emotion filled the Force, so powerful that it felt like it was burying her. Guilt and anger and sadness and grief – Hunter felt it all as her words wrapped under the door like poisoned vines.

Or maybe it was her own emotions that were suffocating her.

Hunter gave a soft sigh and asked, "Can I come in?"

When Saedii brooked no objection, the door slid open, spilling light into the supply closet. Too bright. Saedii shut her eyes and folded in on herself.

It was a vulnerable position – curled in on herself, face tucked into the floor. She wished he didn't have to see her like this. It was such a far cry from the confident Jedi he'd known.

But if the sight of her like that bothered him, Hunter gave no complaint. Instead, he knelt beside her and said, "Come on. Let's get you up."

He waited for her to refuse. When she didn't, his hands ever so carefully pulled her up and into his arms.

The feel of his arms wrapping around her, holding her close, made the tightness in Saedii's chest crack. She gave a little shuddering breath and turned her face into his chest as more tears stung her eyes.

His hands ran along the side of her head, down her back. Very quietly, he said, "It's alright to not be alright. No one expects you to get better overnight."

"What if I never get better?" she asked, giving voice to the darkest fear that festered in the deepest part of herself.

"You will," he said stoutly. "I promise you will, kid. Just give it time."

Her breath caught. "I didn't mean to hurt Gregor –"

"Easy. No need to worry about that. No one blames you."

Birch and moss – Hunter's usual scent – filled her nose. It was an earthy smell. So familiar to her, like Plo's and Wolffe's had been during the Clone Wars.

Saedii relaxed, trying not to think about anything except for how nice his hand felt on her head and how warm his shoulder was beneath her cheek. The soft rhythmic beating of his heart thrummed in her ear, steady and slow. Slowly, the trembling in her limbs began to still.

"There you go. Just relax." He stroked a gentle path down her head, over her hair. Never once slowing even as Saedii's tears began to damped his shirt.

The wild crushing sensation that had wound across her chest like a bind slowly faded. The peal of broken bones faded from her ears, and Gregor's face slowly receded into the depths of her mind, burrowing in with the other countless dark memories. A shuddering breath left her once it was gone.

"I've got you. I promise," he said as he felt the tension slowly unwind from her shoulders. "We're here for you – whatever you need. We're not going anywhere."

Saedii heard the words he didn't say: You can't scare me away.

Somehow, despite knowing what she'd done, the people she'd hurt, Hunter and the others were going to stay by her.

It wouldn't heal her. Not now at least. Maybe not ever. But she could feel as a part of herself – a piece she'd been sure was lost – slid back into place.

That was enough for now.