Beyond - Legends The God of Second Chances (DDC 2015) 12/23/15 (OCs, Solos) Complete (Cover posted 4/24/17)

I love all of the stuff with Han and Bree. And the comment from Kyp that Blue has a great left hook. But it's so sad that they lost the baby and that Blue is going through withdrawal again.

The scene at the end between Zara and Jos was a very nice feeling both for Bree and the reader. Squee!!!

 

Okay, I'm all caught up again and I'm working my way through a pack of handkerchiefs These last two entries were so, so sad that Han's comments on Blue's left hook and the droid "who can argue out the fine points with you in six million languages" were a welcome relief, as was Zara's kindness and the fact that she now has Jos in her life.

Overcoming the loss of the baby and Blue's relapse is going to be an uphill struggle for both of them. The title of this fic is acquiring new layers of meaning with every post.

Now to the plot: so this virus targets Humans? Plus, this:

 

Thank you so much to Nyota’s Heart, JadeLotus, Kahara, Gemma and Chyntuck for your replies. I look forward to reading them every week. Thank you so much for taking the time to share your thoughts.

It’s a very difficult time for Bree and Blue. Blue had been holding on by a thread, and inevitably that thread snapped.

Zara is a loving friend to both of them, and she appreciates how they have gone out of their way to protect her. Now she can return the favor by giving Bree a moment away from her own grief and fear. Zara has found a friend in Jos, and as a healer, he understands how to help Zara best. Let’s just say it works for both of them.

Blue is hurting in a number of physical and emotional ways. It is going to be hard to rebuild, and it will test their relationship. As you put it, he cracked under the pressure. Zara is fun to write. She is kind of the Elle Woods of the GFFA. She seems ditzy but she is actually pretty sharp. She knows her friend Bree needs a lift, and that it’s not only Zeltrons whose pain can be healed by love.

There is still a lot to deal with in this relationship. He hasn’t been completely forthright about how close to the edge he has been running, and she hasn’t been willing to let him in as much as she should. Now they have to face their fears and find each other to survive this as a couple.

Bree’s worst fear was an attack that she couldn’t protect Blue from. If her brother Anakin, the most powerful Jedi of his time, could be struck down, then what chance did she have against an attack? (More on that in the scene below!)

Bree is a bit insecure in her relationship and her jealousy pops up once in a while, but she knows, deep down, that Blue is her man and hers alone. Besides, Zara implied in the previous scene that she was just as willing to sleep with Bree as with Blue. But Zara has a kind of Zeltron code of ethics – no sleeping with people who are committed to others, even though monogamy really doesn’t exist in Zeltron culture.

Isn’t Han the best dad ever? I imagine that after losing one child he would go to the ends of the galaxy to protect the others. Blue and Bree have been handed a devastating loss, and they will have to work terribly hard to rebuild their lives. I’m so glad you liked Jos and Zara. They are a cute couple!

I love writing the Han snark. You can just see him setting C-3PO on some pretentious bureaucrat. And Zara was such a sweetie that her bubbly personality just lifts your spirits.

Blue’s faith in the God of Second Chances is the rope he clings to. Everyone needs a second chance. He and Bree definitely need the second chance now. They are starting all over again.

Thank you to everyone who has stopped in to read!

 

[23]

Blue woke up yesterday. I went over to the psychiatric unit and visited with him. (I’m up more now, getting dressed and moving about. It’s slow but I’m improving.) I was greeted by his psychiatrist, Dr. Bessa Tawn, an older Togruta lady. Dr. Tawn insisted I meet with her in her office before I was allowed to see him.

“You must understand, Miss Solo,” she said, raising her elegant red eyebrow in an arch against the stark white markings of her face, “your friend is still quite fragile. He is recovering but he has much yet of the work to do.”

“What do you mean?” I asked her.

She leaned back, her necklace of small teeth and bones softly clattering with the movement. “I have worked many years with patients who have the addiction sickness, yes. It makes the emotions very exposed and vulnerable. You see, he is healing from the physical effects of fever and that is under control. But the emotional damage from the addiction is again back. He must learn again to control his emotions, yes. Then he must learn again to live with the noise in his mind from the addiction. It will take time but he is strong young man so I believe he will be succeeding, yes.”

She stood up, her red and white striped lekku gently curling around her. She smiled at me through her pointed teeth. “He is still very sick. When you arrive at Ossus, he will be going to hospital there. He is not ready yet to go home. Soon, yes, but not yet.” We stopped outside his room, and Dr. Tawn looked at me sympathetically. “Miss Solo, do not be upset when you see him. Please be patient with him, yes. He is trying hard.”

Dr. Tawn ushered me into the room, and I bit my lip. Although Blue was sitting up in bed, he looked ashen and it seemed like he’d gotten thinner. There was some kind of a gauntlet-looking device strapped to his right wrist, and there were tubes and connectors coming out of it and attaching to monitors on the wall. I had no idea what they meant. It made me remember the time on the Alisander when the withdrawal echo laid him out flat for most of the day. Then, he had locked himself away and dealt with the nausea and convulsions by himself. Now he was in full-blown withdrawal and he needed a team of medical experts around him to keep the physical symptoms under control. Even with the medications it was clear he was still in pain and not in control of his body yet.

I came in and sat next to him on the bed, and he turned to look at me. He drew in a deep breath and managed a smile, then held out his hand. “It’s true. You’re alive,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. I reached over and brushed the hair off his face; his skin was clammy and his lips were cracked and chapped. He closed his eyes again and, wincing, he lay still on the pillow. He kept his grip on my hand, though.

He clearly wasn’t up to talking, so I talked for him. I told him that I was doing better and so was he, and that my family was here to help us. I told him that we were going to stay with him through all of his recovery. I told him that Zara was safe, thanks to him, and that she had found a friend who was making her very happy.

Then I told him, as gently as I could, that we had lost the baby. He gripped my hand tighter and turned his face away from me. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” His breath hitched and I could see his eyes begin to water.

I told him he had nothing to be sorry about, that it wasn’t his fault and I knew that he did his best. That seemed to make him feel even more upset and he slid his hand out of mine and turned away from me. The monitors started to flash and a chime began, and then a med droid and Dr. Tawn came quickly into the room. Blue’s face turned to a grimace of pain and he began to shake. The med droid told me I had to leave. I kissed his cheek and told him again that I loved him, then, reluctantly, I left so that the team could stabilize him.

Dr. Tawn walked with me into the hallway and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We gave him something to helping him sleep now. Please, Miss Solo, understand that he is still deeply under the influence of the drugs he took.” She sighed, her lekku twisting a bit.

I hugged my waist. “When will he be better?”

“Better? Physically, he gets better every day. When will he be the way you are remembering him? That depends on his after-care when he leaves here. It may take a month, maybe more.”

I thanked her and began to walk back to my room. Whatever happens to Blue happens to me, too, so we have a long journey ahead of us.
Mom made it to the ship today. She had been on a mission in the Outer Rim when they heard about the outbreak on the Alisander, so it had taken her some time to get back. She came in to see me, and it was such a comfort to have both my parents there.

My datapad is on the bed next to me, and Dad tells me that it was tucked in with me when I was transferred to the hospital ship. There was a flimsy adhered to the back, and I recognized Blue’s handwriting in aurebesh, although the words were shaky: “Keep with Bree. She will want this when she wakes up.” Force be with him, he knows me.

When I picked the datapad up today, part of that flimsy was loose from the adhesive and I noticed there was writing on the back of the sheet. I pulled it away, and there, in small writing, Blue had written: Sacred Ianos, please grant my Bree the second chance for life.

Mom came in, so I showed it to her. She looked at me in absolute seriousness. “Do you have any idea how sick you were, Bree?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t remember much.”

Mom sat down next to me and pulled me close to her. “You were slipping into a coma. Your kidneys were failing. Your lungs were a mess. You were just days from dying.”

Dad reached over and picked up my hand. “If we hadn’t gotten to you in time, you would have been dead. It’s bad enough you lost the baby. We would have lost you, too.”

I closed my eyes. The baby. It’s strange: when I found out I was pregnant, I was angry and scared. I wasn’t prepared for a pregnancy. Soon, I started to see myself with this child. I began to imagine life with Blue and our baby, the three of us as a family. Then, so suddenly, it all vanished. How can the loss of something so intangible hurt so badly?

“How did this happen?” I asked quietly. “How could an outbreak this bad even get a grip on the ship?”

Dad let go of my hand and leaned back in his chair. “Blue had an idea. He was trying to test it out but he didn’t have the right equipment, then he got sick himself. But he left his notes. The healers here are testing his hypothesis, and they seem to think he was on to something.”

“What?” I asked.

His features hardened. “You were the one who got sick the fastest after exposure, and the one who got sick most severely. The fever was genetically coded to attack you. Blue described it in his notes as poison administered through a nanovirus. One of the refugees deliberately brought it onto the ship. It seems that the virus was an assassination attempt, to be covered up as an outbreak. You were the target, and everyone else who died from it – presumably everyone else on the ship was the intention – was to be collateral damage.”

I sat quietly, absorbing this information. “Who wanted to kill me? And how did they get a copy of my genome?”

Dad glanced at Mom, who let out a long breath before speaking. “Intelligence has received a statement from a splinter group that is somehow aligned with what’s left of the Peace Brigade. They’ve used nanoviruses before. From what we can tell, they got your genome pattern from your old university’s medical records – we’ve arrested a worker there who we think sold it to them.” She paused, then continued. “As for why, it seems connected to a belief that having a Jedi as empress in the Imperial Remnant is giving the Jedi too much political power.”

“So my death was to be a warning to Jaina,” I said.

“That was the plan, apparently. They thought that by killing you, that would prove that the Jedi aren’t all-powerful or untouchable. If a Jedi couldn’t save her own sister, how could she be trusted as an empress?” Mom reached over and caressed my arm. She smiled encouragingly. “But they failed – you’re alive. They lost. They didn’t destroy you.”

I looked away. “They destroyed enough.”

 

Peace Brigade - Sheevy group.

I like Dr. Tawn's forthrightness mixed with warm sympathy.

I also like Bree's resolve and strength. She gets that from both parents and her aunt and uncle are not slobs in the resilience/remaking yourself category either.

 

I saw your OC thread post and I was like DEATH? DRUGS?

Sign me up.

 

This was a harrowing chapter - poor Blue and Bree! It does seem like there's light at the end of the tunnel though, although it will take a lot to get there.

I really liked Doctor Tawn - I think Bree really needed to hear what she had to say. I had assumed that the virus was somehow targeting Bree, but was not expecting it to be that kind of message - Jaina is going to be pissed!

Blue writing down his prayers - so very heartbreaking and sweet

 

Glad that Bree is on the mend and that she really loves her man. I know they have a hard road ahead of them -- but their love is strong - thankfully.

 

With her mom's tenacity and her dad's stick-to-itiveness when it comes to those they care about, Yay. And it doesn't hurt that Blue is as lovable as they come!

 

Thanks so much to everyone who dropped by to read and special thanks to Nyota’s Heart, Ewok Poet, JadeLotus, and Gemma for taking the time to write replies. I appreciate it, as always!

Bree has some extraordinary people in her corner. I would think that Han and Leia would waste no time getting the best help for the couple, and Dr. Tawn would be the one to put on the case. She is tough but compassionate, and although she is optimistic, she doesn’t sugar coat anything for Bree. And Bree does get her persistence and drive from her mom, her “damn the torpedoes” attitude from her dad. Her aunt and uncle also influence her and will be a source of direction in her own life as the story continues. It makes such a difference when there are good people in your corner.

Messed up people getting into trouble but somehow finding love in their wrecked lives? You have come to the right place. Take a seat and I’ll grab you some popcorn.

They have had a major, major setback, and there will be political, emotional and physical repercussions from this. Their relationship will be tested.

Bree needs to know what the stakes are, and what the reality of the situation is. A good doctor doesn’t pretend. And yes, Jaina will not be pleased when she finds out. There will be blood.

Poor Blue. He really thought he was going to lose her. He is terribly dependent on her, as she is on him.

Bree really does love her man, and he loves her too. They will be tested but you’re right, their love is strong. But something this devastating leaves scars.

Blue is an incredibly nurturing, loving man - when he isn’t on drugs. Then all bets are off.

 

[24]

It’s been about a week since Blue and I transferred to Ossus. I’ve been staying with Mom and Dad while Blue recuperates at the hospital near the Temple. He should be discharged in a few days.

Cighal tells me he’s improving, but the drugs he took have really done a lot of damage. By the time they found him, he had been awake for almost four days during the crisis. And on top of that, he was trying to create an antidote. He had run the genetic signature of the nanovirus and recognized my patterns in it because he had studied it recently, when he did the scan on the baby before he left for the resupply station. My DNA pattern was still on his computer interface, along with his. In fact, Blue used his own genetic pattern as a template to create an anti-viral: he figured out that he was just enough out of a baseline human genetic pattern to sort of “confuse” the nanovirus, causing it to attack more slowly. (That’s why he and Zara were resistant at first – the nanovirus attacked baseline humans more aggressively.) He administered it to me, and it slowed down the infection’s attack enough that I stayed alive until we got help. Unfortunately there wasn’t enough for everyone, so he used it sparingly, giving it to the sickest, but it got us through the worst until the hospital ship arrived.

Jacen came by yesterday. Mom had told everyone that I was only to have healthy food while I gained my strength back, so naturally he smuggled in some chocolates for me. My brother -- what would I do without him? This whole event has been hard on him. He told me he was terrified that he would lose me too, and he feels such guilt already about Anakin’s death. Jacen was the team leader on the mission, and he was there when Anakin was killed. I think he is, in many ways, still fighting that war in his head to this day.

We spent the afternoon sitting together on the sofa, eating the forbidden sweets together and watching some stupid holodrama. Even though he didn’t say much, I could tell how relieved he was that his little sister was still alive.

He dropped by the hospital to see Blue that morning. Jacen said Blue swings wildly between utter boredom and sheer agitation. He wants to get out of hospital, and Jacen tells me Blue is driving the healers crazy because he keeps trying to modify his own charts in order to hurry the discharge along.

My parents have found a very nice place on Corellia for us to stay while Blue goes through rehab again. It’s warm, by the water, so maybe it will feel a little like home for him. Rehab should, hopefully, only take a few weeks. I’ve packed everything we need – not that we had much anyway. I feel adrift without Blue; I feel like something is missing and I keep looking for it. Then I realize the “something” is him.

I had a few hours to myself today, so I went to the Jedi Temple. The main floor is open to the public, although honestly, I pretty much have the run of the place anyway, even though I’m not a Force sensitive and can never be a Jedi. But there was one specific place I needed to go.

In the Hall of Knighthood, there are many images and statues that honour the great Jedi Knights of centuries past. Most of them are reconstructed images, based on Tionne’s research. But some are very recent additions.

One of the images is that of a young man; a teenager, really -- my brother Anakin. Few people know it but his ashes are right behind this statue, in the wall behind that panel, so this isn’t just a statue of him, it’s his grave. I don’t know why I came here today. Maybe because no one understood me as much as Anakin did – we were such a team growing up together. He was always smarter, faster, funnier than I was, but he never made me feel less than him. I wish I could talk to him again. He would know just the right thing to say.

I’m staring up at the face of the boy I grew up with, but I feel like I don’t really have him anymore. He belongs to the Order now, to history and to the people. It’s strange: I can still close my eyes and hear his laughter, but it fades away a little bit every day. I remember when I turned seventeen, and suddenly I was the same age Anakin was when he died. Then I turned eighteen, then nineteen, and Anakin stayed seventeen. Now I’m almost twenty-three and he’s still seventeen. He will always be seventeen. I feel like I’m on a boat that is drifting further and further away from him.

Jaina’s going to get married soon to Jag. That’s a wonderful thing; they love each other very much and they are very suited for each other, and they will live lives of adventure and excitement. Jacen will eventually get over his struggle with his guilt and with the torment that he endured. He won’t be the same – none of us will – but he will find his place. But Anakin will never change.

My parents told me of Dad’s ordeal when he was in carbonite, and how he lost track of all that time while he was frozen. When he woke up, the galaxy had changed. I wonder if Anakin would have recognized all the changes if he could wake up.

But he can’t wake up. Anakin isn’t frozen in carbonite. My brother is dead.

I wonder if he still exists somewhere. Uncle Luke told me once that he could communicate with dead people, or rather, that dead Jedi could communicate with him. He explained that some Jedi possess the ability to transcend the barrier that divides this living plane from the existence of the Force. Maybe Anakin exists in the Force, like those Jedi, like Obi-wan Kenobi and Master Yoda. But if he does, then why has he never once contacted me? Couldn’t he tell how much I miss him?

I can’t help but think of the baby that Blue and I lost. I know that it was still very early in the pregnancy when I miscarried, but in my heart, this child was real and loved. I wonder if that baby exists somewhere in the Force too, or if he or she is simply gone forever. I would feel better if I knew that the baby’s Uncle Anakin was looking out for whatever spirit form he or she took on the other side.

I look at Anakin’s statue and I see the face I remember, but the eyes look straight ahead, not down at me. He doesn’t belong to me anymore. I’m aware that there are others in the gallery and they are avoiding me. They must know who I am. I’m sitting here crying, and I have to share even my grief with strangers.

 

I love that Jacen snuck in chocolates and Bree's insights into his struggles - Happy she will be sticking with Blue through his rehab, naturally. And how she feels without him.

But the part that touched me to the marrow, and gave me chills of poignancy! was the entire musing about Anakin, stronger now with all she's bearing up under and the recent devastating loss -- but wow! She encapsulates the sense that everyone and everything is moving ahead but Anakin never will. He really is not hers anymore. You can truly, genuinely feel her sense of loss and then all those strangers watching.

Bravo on writing so well on a very real to life feeling.

 

This chapter was so sad! But so affecting, it must be hard for Bree to grow up not only missing her brother, but aging beyond him - he'll always be her "big" brother, and yet she continues to grow and he is eternally seventeen. Her musings about whether he's out there in the Force make sense, and how those same thoughts then turn to her lost baby and finding solace in Uncle Anakin looking after him or her.

Such a beautifully written and emotional chapter! Bravo!

 

This made me smile.

The whole thought process of Bree on Anakin was written very well - it was complex and deep.

 

Bree doesn’t always realize how much other people, like her brother Jacen, love her. Jacen isn’t as open with his expressions of his feelings as she is, but chocolates always speak volumes. And Bree feels incomplete without her Blue. They are dependent on each other.

That’s it exactly. It’s more than a loss of the brother she loved, she has lost the connection she had with him. She has lost the other half of the team that they identified themselves as. When he died he became a legend, and a legend by definition belongs to everyone. He’s not her brother anymore. It’s almost a violation of the relationship she had with him. And there is no way to retrieve that. It’s more than just mourning for her brother; she mourns the loss of the bond.

Thank you for such a thoughtful reply.

Thank you for your reply! That’s the thing that seems so surreal; the idea that life can obstinately go on despite the world seemingly ending for you. This is especially true when someone dies young. All the rites of passage (going to high school, graduating, moving on with your life) seem to move on a parallel track, and the person who died young never experiences them.
Bree feels almost hurt that Anakin hasn’t taken the effort to haunt her. Even a visit from his ghost would seem better than the aching silence.

I’ve heard that doctors make the worst patients. I can imagine Blue would insist on reading his records and “correcting” things as he went along. And being told he can’t leave would make him a bit claustrophobic and panicky, based on his prior experiences with confinement, hence his agitation.

Thank you! And thank you so much for the thoughtful comments. I appreciate it!

 

[25]

The rehabilitation centre is beautiful. We arrived in the early morning, by private transport, and we were greeted by the manager who immediately showed us our rooms. The suite is lovely and it’s easy to forget that this is a medical facility and not a resort.

Blue is wary; I can tell that all his guards are back up. He understands that the risk of failure here is enormous. If he can’t bring this under control decisively now, he will be struggling with the effects of the relapse for years. My Blue can be very slow to trust: life has not always been particularly kind to him and his gut reaction is to shut everything out. I suppose it is a good sign that he wants me to accompany him through this. At least he still trusts me.

The last time he did rehab was in prison under a court order, so this luxurious facility is unfamiliar to him, which is another reason why he is uneasy. He’s been very quiet lately. He still doesn’t feel well (which is why we are here). He doesn’t eat or sleep much, he shakes involuntarily at times, and bright lights bother him a great deal. Any other time he would just crawl into bed and turn off the lights and tremble like he’s done before, but he’s committed to this and he told me that he wants to get the addiction back under control as soon as he can.

His days – our days – look like they will be fairly open. We have breakfast together, then he goes for a medical check to see how his body is filtering the chemicals. They are trying out different combinations of medications to see which ones can suppress the cravings. He has told me before that if the suppressor is too strong it makes him feel dulled and sluggish, but if the suppressor isn’t strong enough then the cravings can overpower him. I know he doesn’t like this process but it’s necessary for him to find the right balance.

Then he meets with a therapist for about an hour or so and he learns how to handle his emotions in a healthier way. While he’s there, I meet with a counselor who shows me the best ways to help him and how to help myself deal with the ways his addictions affect my life. After mid-day meal he spends time working on ways to identify the triggers for his addiction. Sometimes he talks with a group of other addicts, sometimes it’s one-on-one with a counselor.

The rest of the day is ours, and they really try to give us an opportunity to have a quiet place to gather ourselves together. The idea is that when he feels safe and comfortable again, he can take the treatment over for himself and won’t need supervision. The one thing in his favor is that Blue didn’t get in trouble because he was abusing spice to get high, he selectively overused a drug called methogarozine in order to stay awake as long as he possibly could. Blue even went so far as to record the dosages he gave himself so that he could work his way out of it. (Well, most of the dosages. He may have started out methodically, but only the Force knows what he was shooting there towards the end. I saw his toxicology report. There were traces of other substances, including some evidence of alcohol and trysalinine.) But Blue really wants to be clean again and he is willing to work hard to fix this, and he is well aware that it isn’t going to be easy and it isn’t going to be quick.

It’s discouraging, to say the least. I wish I could have spent more time on Ossus with my parents and my brother. I don’t get to see my family much anymore. But Blue’s needs take me away from them.

It’s not that I begrudge his illness. I hate his illness. I hate the way it makes me edgy when we’re at social events. I hate the way I bolt awake when I hear him get up in the middle of the night, thinking maybe he’s sneaking off to get into trouble. I hate that I never, ever know when he’s going to start becoming irritated over something meaningless because his cravings are getting out of hand. And most of all, I hate the people who hurt him so much that he turned to alcohol when he was younger, and the people who hooked him on spice when he got to college. Blue is the sweetest, funniest, most intelligent man I’ve ever met – when he isn’t craving. It’s like taking a beautiful masterpiece painting and splashing acid all over it.

When I started this relationship, I knew that he had issues, and I knew that it wasn’t going to be easy for us to deal with them. Even Dad warned us that we were going to struggle. But this is so much more than I bargained for, and I can’t help resenting it at some level. Why can’t he just be normal? It would have been so much easier on me if I had fallen in love with someone who didn’t require me to do a visual room sweep for alcohol whenever we go anywhere, or with someone who I didn’t have to take care of and clean up after when he gets the shakes in the middle of the night. I could actually relax and enjoy myself. Instead I feel like I’m the governess to a 28-year-old.

So why don’t I leave him? He was doing okay before I met him; he had a job, a place to call home. What do I need from him? He is as poor as a temple rodent. He gives me sleepless nights, stress, and trouble.

Who am I kidding? I know why I stay. One look at him, one meeting of our eyes, and my heart tumbles all over again. He doesn’t mean to be trouble to me. In fact, he tries his best not to be. He can’t miraculously fix what he’s become. Like he often says, everything is a choice, and I made the choice to be with him. That means I take the difficult days as well as the days when everything flies smoothly.

Sometimes I get so frustrated with him, and then I feel so guilty because I’m frustrated that I just find a quiet place where I won’t be disturbed and I cry. Then I see him working with a patient and I see how kind he is, how he actually listens to people and makes them feel valued. How he stops for homeless people and gives them what little money he has, and often returns later with food or a blanket. I think about how he comes back from the resupply stations with children’s shoes or some other thing that he noticed the refugees needed. Or that time on the Alisander when he let two little girls play with his hair while he watched over them so their mothers could get some work done.

I remember how he would get up with me during my sleepless, anxious nights and just listen to me, not belittling my fears or complaining about my interrupting his sleep but instead holding my hand and letting me know that I can tell him anything. I think about how he cares for me when I don’t feel well, the sound of his voice as he reads to me, or the soft thrum of his heartbeat when he lets me lie against his chest.

Most of all, I think about the way he looks at me when he thinks I don’t see him, or the way he touches me – just a quick brush of his hand against my back or arm. And I know that he loves me more than anything else.


Nothing comes without a price, I guess. I have a man who adores me, a man who has so much compassion and kindness in his heart that he instinctively gives it wherever he goes. His religion says that everything is a balanced equation, so I guess the balance to the great joy and love that he brings me is the great sacrifices I must make in my life for the sake of his health. I just never understood that loving someone could be so hard.

 

Beautiful. So simply real and beautiful. His selflessness and complete and utter compassion and kindness are indeed endearing and add on top of that his deep and genuine love... he's definitely someone worth holding on to!
My heart aches for their struggles, but what touches me the deepest is the sense of we-ness - being in it together - hasn't dissipated or become strained. This kind of loyalty and mutual commitment is a literal godsend.

 

Playing catch-up again and it's late at night, so I won't be leaving the long review I was meaning to, but I wanted to drop in and say I'm still here

All this was beautifully written and everyone else has already commented on almost everything I'd want to comment about, so two things. Some expressions you used in these last few entries were real finds (like "living with the noise of the addiction in his mind", or "splashing acid on a masterpiece") because they say so much in so few words. These little phrases really punctuate Bree's musings and they give a lot of impetus to what is already a riveting story.

Second, the political sub-plot about the virus. There's a tragic irony to the fact that Bree has, in a sense, been keeping Blue at arm's length for fear that he would be targeted, only to find herself targeted and nearly dead instead. I'm curious to know if Marsh Tor was on a suicide mission, or if he was just an unwitting victim in all this, and I'm curious to know what happens next -- I don't expect the Peace Brigade to give up, and has any information about Blue and Bree being a couple leaked from the ship? Because that could lead to all sorts of interesting developments...

 

Such an emotional and dense chapter - from the interesting details of Blue's treatment to Bree's musings about the difficulty the relationship brings to her life and why exactly she puts herself through it - very realistic, I would think, for people who have partners who are addicts, but of course she realises that the good outweighs the bad. - or at least keeps it in balance.

 

As always, your writing is gorgeous. The line about taking a masterpiece and splashing acid all over it was perfect and something I could really relate to. My grandfather was hopelessly lost to his addictions. The stories of things he did while drunk are insane. Some are scary, some are just unbelievable. But to hear his kids talk about how he was the nicest, funniest man while he was sober is heart-breaking. They never saw enough of that man. Addiction is rough, and no joke. And, though it's hard on Blue and Bree, I'm glad he's getting the help he needs.

 

Thank you, Nyota’s Heart, Chyntuck, JadeLotus, and Ginchy for your thoughtful replies. As always, they are deeply appreciated.

Blue is, fundamentally, a good guy, and Bree understands this. She knows that he is still there, under all this damage, and she won’t give up on him. They depend too much on each other for that.

Thank you! That’s so kind of you.

An astute observation! Up to now, Bree has assumed that only she possesses the skills to protect herself and Blue from an attack. This assumption will have to be re-assessed. And as for Marsh Tor, Bree (and collaterally, Blue) were the almost-victims of a larger conspiracy that is at work here. Don’t worry, Bree will deal with them as soon as Blue is back on his feet.

It can’t be easy for her. Until now, she has only seen his behavior from the fringes, but now that they are living together and she is dealing with a full-out relapse, she needs to evaluate whether or not it’s worth it to accept Blue’s baggage in her life. But under it all, he’s still her Blue, and she needs him be her rock as much as he needs her to be his companion.

I’m sorry that your family had to go through that. In my own family, I had a great uncle who was an alcoholic – I have no memories at all of him ever being sober. It disrupts the entire family, not just the addict. And it takes a tremendous amount of strength and determination to overcome it.

 

[26]

Blue wasn’t in bed with me when I woke up in the middle of last night. I got up quickly and threw on some clothing, and realized that he wasn’t in the suite or in the area around it. I took a deep breath. Nothing good was going to come out of this.

I found him sitting in the back of the building, near the utilities station, staring out into space. He had wrapped his arms around himself, and I could see where he had been gnawing on his knuckles. I knelt down next to him, pushed his hair out of his face, and called his name. Eventually he heard me.

He looked up, his eyes glassy, and I could see how badly he was shaking. His whole body trembled as I helped him rise unsteadily to his feet, and he leaned against the wall for balance. “Blue, what can I do for you? What can I do?” I asked. I reached over to stroke his cheek, and Blue grabbed my wrist. If I hadn’t instinctively pivoted my wrist he might have sprained it or worse; as it was, the pain made me wince.

“Get me a drink,” he whispered.

“You really want a drink?”

He glared at me. “What I really want is a hit of glitterstim, directly into my carotid artery. But since that isn’t going to happen, I want you to get me some whiskey.” He spoke the words through clenched teeth.

I sighed and closed my eyes. “You know I can’t do that, Blue.”

“Yes, you can. I’ve looked all over and there isn’t anything here. But you can leave and get me something. Just one drink, Bree. Just one. I promise – I only want one.” He licked his dry lips and glanced away. “Please. Help me out.”

“I am helping you out. You know you can’t have anything.”

He let go of my wrist and covered his face with his hands. “You don’t understand. If you understood then you wouldn’t hesitate. If you really loved me, you’d do this for me. Just for today. Then I can take it from there.” A shudder ripped through him. “It hurts. Don’t let me hurt, Bree. Help me. Just one drink.”

He sounded so desperate that I wanted to cry. I put my arms around him. “Blue, baby, you know I can’t do that.”

Suddenly he pushed my arms away. “Of course you can’t. You won’t even acknowledge I exist. I mean nothing to you.” He tried to shove me but I blocked his arm. “Go back home to your family, you spoiled schutta. Go buy something pretty to make yourself feel better.”

“Blue, don’t talk like this.”

“I might as well be back in prison. You’ve locked me in this place and taken away all my rights.” His voice became pleading. “Don’t you see what you’re doing to me? Don’t you care? Just get me a drink, Bree. One drink. Then I’ll be all right.”

When I didn’t answer him, he scowled, then slid back down to sit again. “You know what? Kriff you. Go back to Ossus. I’m sick of you.” He put his hands over his head and his face contorted. A guttural cry wrenched from him, a despair beyond words. He hit his fist against the side of the building so hard that his hand began to bleed; then, rocking back and forth, he clutched his stomach.

I stepped backwards. What else was I supposed to do? I walked away from him, took out my comlink, and woke up his counselor. A few minutes later I stood there, one hand over my mouth and the other hugging my waist, as two medics walked over to Blue, dragged him to his feet, and helped him stagger to the infirmary.

 

I have nothing to say but ... and you know me and my loquacity. I want Leia, or Jaina, or Zara, there so badly to give Bree a rib-crushing huggle!

 

Wow. Just wow. Blue's pain feels so horribly real, and Bree is in an incredibly difficult situation here -- having to play the role of the loving partner, the counselor and the nurse at the same time, plus dissociating what he says from what he is... Phew. Like Ny, I think she badly, badly needs a hug.

 

And we need another update.