trans_9 | There's got to be a morning after [VERY OPEN]

It took a few moments for any thoughts to register for Steve when he opened his eyes. He recognized the inside of a quarantine bubble, that was for sure, but it took him longer to recognize the medical equipment hooked up to him, an IV in his arm and bandages wrapped around his bare shoulder and in a few other spots.

It didn't take long to recognize the feeling of having been run over by a truck, either. Every bone in his body ached, and even the slightest movement made him want to groan. It felt like he'd been asleep for a month-- a dreamless sleep, preceded by blurry, disconnected memories of what felt like a dream.

Memories of something he desperately, desperately hoped was just a dream. He had a sinking feeling it wasn't and part of him knew it to be the truth. But desperately hoping was the only way he could keep himself from screaming, which would hurt, so he'd keep on with that desperate hope anyway.

Steve lay awake and stared at the ceiling. Maybe if he stayed quiet they'd think he was still asleep, and he could put the truth and all the fear and sorrow that came with it off a while longer.

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Steve looked up through the hair hanging in his eyes. "You'd always say that," he accused, but there was the smallest trace of a smile behind the exhausted expression.

"How am I supposed to learn from something like this, again?"

"I'm not sure. But I bet you'll figure something out." Luke smiled again. "That's the kind of thing you have to sort out for yourself. I can't help you there."

He stepped back to sit on the stool again. "And... trust me, you don't want to be a hero. It always seems to get in the way of things."

Not that Luke'd trade his past for anything. But it was a lot of work.

"I'd rather be a hero than actually be the one getting in the way."

Steve wasn't pleased to hear that Luke didn't have any good advice for this one. Then again, he didn't suppose a lot of people really had anything encouraging to say about mutating into a giant monster and nearly killing everybody you knew.

He sighed and leaned back in the bed, exhausted. "I hate my life."

"Don't hate yourself... and those aren't the only two types of people, you know." Luke raised an eyebrow slightly, steepling his fingers. "But for what it's worth, you're not in the way of anything."

"Try telling that to all the people I put in the hospital."

Steve reached up and rubbed the remnants of tears out of his eyes, shaking his head and finally getting the courage to glance up at Luke again.

"Thank you," he said after a long pause. "For not letting them... you know. Kill me."

Luke smiled. Steve really did remind him of himself sometimes. Maybe that was another reason why the Force had put them both on board this ship; each to teach the other.

"I've told you before, you're like a son to me," he replied. "I'm not really okay with my family members getting killed, especially if I know something can be done about it. The people you put in the hospital - they'll heal, they'll forgive. You have to do the same yourself."

"I guess." Another quick scrub to get rid of the last of the tears, and he let out a heavy breath to try and calm himself down.

"You know, if anybody ever offers to let your skeleton change shape twice in one day? Tell them no. Because it really goddamn hurts."

Luke couldn't help a chuckle, even though he winced in sympathy at just the thought. He remembered that even just going through adolescence itself could be physically painful, and that there had been times when he'd been incredibly gawky and not used to the length of his own limbs, and having to deal both with growing and potential rearrangement of one's bones was inconceivable.

"I'll be sure to remember that. Need me to see if I can rustle up anything for pain?"

Steve winced and squirmed a little bit in place, trying to get comfortable when it felt like he'd been steamrolled and then forcefully twisted back to normal. "Yeah, if you can? They gave me something for it but I don't think painkillers work when your everything hurts."

"If you want, I can put you into a healing trance again," Luke suggested helpfully. "It might help a little more."

He squirmed again. "Yeah, that might be good... but not for like, three days this time, okay?" That had been creepy. Not that he didn't need it at the time, but he'd already been knocked out for an extended period of time recently and didn't feel like a repeat.

"And if you do you have to make sure to tell the doctors so they don't think I just died."

There's got to be a morning after [VERY OPEN]

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