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[ooc: BENDYTIME, ACTIVATE! Anytime after the crew has returned to the ship.]

When the medics finally woke Steve up from his healing trance, he was not in the best of moods.

For one thing, the trance had left him feeling much, much better than before-- but had not done much for the virus. A good supply of bandages were able to conceal many of the external signs, but he couldn't very well wrap them around the green marks on his face, his fingers or both of his eyes. His levels were stable but until the virus had gone back into remission, he was stuck in quarantine.

For another, there was no news as far as what had caused GLaDOS to go off on him. No clues as to who found out about him, no sign of who might have done it-- just the knowledge that someone on this crew, who he was supposed to trust, was capable of attacking him like that and there was little to be done about it right now.

And of course, someone had to inform him that Zokez II had been nearly annihilated by the Ohm. The beautiful beaches, resorts and cities-- the places where he spent a happy week relaxing, feeling normal, and spending time with Miku-- were gone, destroyed, the people fled and with no hope of rebuilding. His week had been cut short anyway, but now it felt like the whole thing had been ripped away from him. Even the happy moments he had here on this ship were fleeting-- in the end, everything was now just a memory, stuck in the past and never to come again.

And furthermore, he'd slept through it. The first encounter with the Ohm, the stupid aliens who were the whole reason he was awake on this goddamned ship in the first place, and Steve was too busy sleeping off a virus outbreak that nearly stole his mind from him to help out.

"A mistake" indeed.

Steve was not in any kind of mood at all as he sat on the floor and leaned against the bubble, staring at the ceiling. His silhouette was visible through the dimmed bubble.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Honestly, I wouldn't want to go wandering around in public after that myself. Not because of appearances and uncomfortable stares," Luke continued, holding up a finger to stall any potential fit of teenage angst, "Though those wouldn't help any."

He leaned against the bubble. His legs were trembling a bit, and he needed a support. "What you went through--what you did to get yourself back--that was intensely personal and would leave anyone feeling like they'd been dragged out back of a speeder along the Dune Sea, and I wouldn't want to have to face too many right away with that kind of thing fresh on my mind."

Nice save, Luke.

Unfortunately, the angst was flowing in droves anyway. "I might as well get used to it. I could be stuck in here for the rest of my life at this rate."

Then he glared hard enough to bore a hole in the floor. "Why the hell would I want to face people anyway? I was stupid to let my guard down around here in the first place."

"You had no reason to be otherwise," Luke reasoned. "You couldn't know that someone--" someone who was going to have an irate, parental Skywalker to answer to when they were found "--had ordered that rogue AI to do what it did."

Luke sighed. "And I highly doubt you'll be stuck in here past when that shiny new appendage disappears, or is removed, or whatever's going to happen to it. Stars, Steve, I would stay in here if I had one of those poking out of me. And I'm... what do you call it? Zen?"

"Yeah. Zen." Steve tried to laugh at his little comment, but it was all too true. He shifted and pressed his right arm closer to his chest, where, underneath his shirt, there was a mass of bandages trying to hide the damn thing.

His scoff turned into a sigh. "But that's just it! I never thought that would happen to me-- because I didn't think somebody on this ship would be that sick. And you'd think I'd know better about what people are capable of, huh?"

"We still manage to surprise." Luke sighed. "I guess it's a by-product of having a brain big enough to allow for innovation. Sentient species eventually come up with very inventive ways to hurt each other. But the actions of one, as horrible as they are, shouldn't color your opinion of everyone."

"So I guess you just can't ever let your guard down, huh?"

Steve scowled and let out a long, shaky sigh. "Since there's always somebody looking to screw you over. Somebody you're expected to trust. Right?"

"Wrong."

Luke stared steadily into his friend's eyes, the cool blue calm, only a little dampened by tiredness.

"That's no way to live, always looking over your shoulder, or looking at the faces in the crowds, looking for the next betrayal. Just because we're capable of deceit doesn't mean we'll inevitably do it. And while there may not be people we trust implicitly, there should be those who we do."

Steve's eyes were still blood red, and suddenly dampened by tears.

"Yeah? Well what other choice do I have?" He almost snapped. "I've got a goddamned zombie virus floating around in me that could go off at any second! I can't even tell my friends about what's wrong with me, because they're actually worried somebody's gonna try to kill me! And whoever it was that did had to be somebody who knew."

"You can choose to not let that get in your way of trust." Luke looked away, many memories flitting through his mind, as fast as emotions on his face. "While a sentient's innovative mind can create great pain, it's also been given the capacity to create great good. Trust is one of the most important things that comes of that ability."

Luke sat; he couldn't stand anymore, so when he'd gotten comfortable in the meditative pose, he continued. "Living life suspicious of everyone will embitter you, and that's not the kind of life I want for you."

He was silent for a moment, then made a frustrated groan. "How am I supposed to trust anyone? My whole life since I woke up revolves around keeping this a secret! Why should I be expected to work with these people when everybody's ready to turn on me if they find out what the hell I am? Somebody already decided I'd make an awesome guinea pig."

He turned so Luke couldn't see his face. "So I'm not supposed to be bitter, huh? Well, too goddamn late."

"You can change that. You've changed a lot since I got to know you," Luke pointed out. "You've proved time and again you can rise above obstacles you thought were too high to climb over. And I'm not asking you to give the multiverse a line of unlimited credit. Sometimes, that's hard for even a Jedi to do, and it's supposedly in the job description."

He paused, looking for the right words. "We all choose who we trust completely. Some of us have more than others." Luke smiled. "You can be choosy about who you trust, that's fine, but I know the people you do trust wholeheartedly will be exceptional, because you are."

"I don't need anybody more than I've got."

Steve curled up into a little ball, hugging his knees to his chest-- and keeping his one arm pressed firm against his side. Miku, Luke and Claire were the only people he trusted completely, and probably the only people worth it at all.

"I was stupid to think this place was finally like home to me."

Though it was irrational, Luke felt a stab of guilt. Steve was all but flesh and blood to him; Luke should have been there to help him, keep him from this darkness. But rationality was something given to him by many years of looking to the Force and his instincts for guidance. Steve had to make his own path. Nobody could choose it for him.

"As long as there are people you trust on board, and people who trust and love you in return, this will always be home," Luke said gently. "Home is where those special people are."

He thought of Mara, of Ben, of all his family--of Steve. Home was with them, wherever they were.

"And I think you need others more than you think. Who else is going to bring you something to keep you from going completely barvy in there?"

He wished he could believe what Luke said, but GLaDOS' voice was still ringing through his head-- when she called him a mistake, when she said he was nothing but a specimen brought aboard to study. All things he had worried about himself-- and all things that made more sense the more he thought about them, even if they made him feel sick.

How could this place be home to him when he didn't even belong here?

Steve sighed and brushed his hair out of his face again. "I might as well get used to it. I'm stuck here. And I'll be back, too."

"Always in motion is the future," Luke quoted softly. "A very wise being said that to a very nerf-headed young Jedi once. Don't think that things are set in stone yet, Steve. You'd be surprised at how fast things change when you start pushing."

He couldn't help the wince on his face as he shifted, and the shifting tugged at one of the scabbed-over wounds on his body. "And I'd hope you just wouldn't give up. I know you're better than that."

Well, he did have a point about the future. Steve nodded at that and sighed.

He turned around slightly to where he could be seen again, but only so he could look at something besides the back of the bubble for a while. "I'm not gonna give up," he said. "But I don't know if it matters anymore. I said I wouldn't lose it again, but back in the sensorium..."

He looked up at Luke worriedly. Luke might have faith that Steve wouldn't have hurt him, but Steve himself clearly didn't.

"You didn't lose it," Luke insisted. "You didn't let that happen. And I'm very proud of you for that." He grinned suddenly, one of those smiles as bright as the binary suns he'd grown up under. "It's how I know you've changed so much."

"I lost it enough," Steve sighed. "It's not good enough."

He leaned his head back and bumped it against the bubble. "After all this bullshit I'm still not strong enough. I still can't do anything useful."

Luke stared at Steve quietly. Then:

"If you think you aren't good enough, push yourself to get better. Force knows I could stand to see a little self-motivation in one of my students for once." Luke shook his head. "There is always a solution to not feeling good enough, and that is to keep working until you do. Although, having someone who's taken a few turns around the galaxy telling you that you've got what it takes would help, I hope."

He didn't respond to that for a minute, curling up around his knees again and taking a few quiet breaths.

"How?"

"Keep pushing yourself to a center, keep searching for that calm," Luke replied. "Don't let failures think you are a failure. We slip; we fall sometimes. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't get right back up. If you slip, go back later and learn from it. It's not pleasant to think about something like that again, but it'll make you stronger the next time."

He smiled, the serene Jedi Master. "I've seen into you, Steve. I know you've got a strong will and that your heart is a good one. If I thought you were beyond help--well, I'd have offered anyway, but if you were truly unreachable you wouldn't have made it this far. I'm not saying keep stressing yourself until you trigger this virus and then try to control it, but learn ways to manage stress when it occurs so that it has less of an impact. That's essentially what you're doing every time you center yourself the way I told you before."

Steve was quiet as he mulled that over, but he slowly nodded after a few minutes. "Is that really the only thing I can do?" he muttered, traces of weariness still in his voice.

"There are other ways, probably," Luke said. "There's certainly more than one route to Core--" he stopped, realizing that Steve wouldn't know about hyperspace routes or Corellia, for that matter. "There are many paths to the same destination."

Luke paused, running his hands through his hair. "I'll think of something else. We'll think of it together, if we figure out this way doesn't work. But can it wait until I've had a solid eight? I feel like a krayt dragon used me for a chew toy."

He looked up over his shoulder-- and for the first time, seemed to notice that Luke had been run through the mill. "Holy shit, you're hurt," he gaped, and put his hands against the bubble.

"What are you wasting time in here for? Are you okay?"

"Checking up on you is not wasting time," Luke retorted dryly, and ran his fingers along one of the cuts on his face. "I've had worse than this. I lost a hand once, you know. This one." He wiggled the fingers of his right hand at Steve, grinning for a moment before it faded with exhaustion.

"I'm just tired," he murmured. "Finally getting a face-to-face with our enemy--seeing the kind of destruction the Ohm can bring, feeling that loss of life in the Force... it reminds me only of some of the really bad times when the Vong were invading, around the time Ben was born. And I've drawn on the Force a lot. It gets to you."

Edited 2010-07-02 04:19 (UTC)

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