Seized

Chapter 4

The promised "few days" turned into a week, a lonely, miserable, boring week filled with active muscle recovery, physical therapy, rest, and little to no cognitive stimulation.

Your muscles began to ache the morning after Darth Vader's departure. It was mind blowing how even the simplest of movements put you into an incapasitated state, as if you had ran a marathon a day prior or rode a full century on a bike. Your rectus femoris and vastus lateralis were the muscles that sustained the most damage, saturated with concentrated lactic acid eating away your myocytes, filled with detached sarcomeres. You knew that, normally, your body would easily repair the damaged myocytes with the surrounding satellite cells. Their infusion would proliferate the recovery and encourage muscle growth and strength. You knew that damage and consequential repair were essential steps to muscle hypertrophy, which you critically needed. However, you were unsure of this body's ability to accommodate for normal cell proliferation and differentiation, given its immobile state for God knows how long. You had no idea if Padme's muscle atrophy was reversible or if she had sustained a significant loss of muscle cells, which would make your recovery problematic. Regardless, you knew the process could be countered, to an extent, with proper diet and exercise... which the medical droid forced upon you daily.

On top of a balanced diet filled with fruits, vegetables, and lean meats, the droid encouraged nutritional shakes filled with protein for faster recovery with every meal. You cringed your nose gulping down the liquid, force feeding yourself to gain weight. Padme's body was unnaturally scrawny and weak. A simple walk wore you down, forcing you to take frequent breaks when exploring the castle accompanied by the medical droid. You were angry with your current condition, realizing how foolish you were taking your previously abled body for granted. You couldn't wait to become stronger to feel like yourself again. That's why you did everything you could to get more mobile.

Ranging from simple biceps curls with 3 lb dumbbells to stair climbing, the droid focused on utilizing every muscle of your body using carefully selected resistance training. You gritted your teeth pushing through the exercises, knowing that they would eventually make your body stronger, thus making you more independent.

You did not protest when M1-D3 disinfected both of your thighs and injected the clear liquid intramuscularly after each of your exercise routine. At this point, you were willing to accept any form of therapy to become fully mobile again, to be able to walk a mile without feeling pain. From what was explained to you, the injection contained some sort of fibroblast growth factors that stimulated satellite cell fusion to increase the rate of muscle recovery. It also contained local NSAIDs which you were all too happy to receive. At least, for the next twenty four hours it kept your mind off the constant pain... off the pain and on a certain Sith Lord.

You cringed in embarrassment at your previous lude actions, instinctively covering your face in frustration as the droid continued to patch your aching legs. What had come over you? How did you lose control? It was so unlike you to jump a stranger, someone you had met mere hours ago. You blushed deeply as the images of that night rushed back into your mind.

The way you straddle him, the way he let you stay on top, the way he looked at you, spoke to you, held you... everything about that night was intense, new, and yet so familiar. The act felt more like a long awaited reunification of two souls than a shallow booty-call.

You shook your head in disagreement. It must have been the alcohol, there was no other explanation, rational one at least. It has been too long since you've received attention from the opposite sex, so the new undevided attention of the Sith Lord could not have gone unnoticed by your raging emotions and hormonal instincts. Yes, that's it. Your body was confused. It was throwing itself at the first available suitor because it was starving for contact.