Chapter 15

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Cal watched as Y/n rushed into the med bay, her footsteps as heavy as his heart was. He tried to ignore the fact that Cere had lied to him, for his own sanity at the moment, but it was so difficult. Both he and Y/n were mad at the lies for different reasons. This all could've been avoided if Cere had just told them both the truth about Trilla from the start. She didn't need to be Cere's dirty little secret. But that's exactly what she turned out to be.

Cal knew Y/n had it worse, seeing as she couldn't even find her usual rubber gloves she put on to heal him. He stood from his seat and took her hand in his. It startled her, but he could feel her hand shaking in his own. He had a lot more time learning to deal with his emotions than she did, given that the Jedi were taught how to control their actions instead of letting their feelings think for them. It helped in certain moments, like this one. He knew he couldn't put the entire mission at risk by holding a grudge against Cere, but that didn't mean he wasn't still mad at her.

"Hey," Cal gently spoke, his fingers entwining with hers. "They're right here." He pulled out the box and handed a pair of gloves to her.

She blinked, letting go of his hand and taking the gloves into hers. "Oh, right. Uh, thanks," she managed out, and Cal gave her a nod before taking the poncho off of his body. He grunted at the movement of his wound, but managed to set it aside as he looked down at the torn fabric of his vest. BD's stims were beginning to wear off. Not even those could heal this injury. "What caused it?" Y/n said, gesturing to the reason he was there.

"The wyyyshokk," he answered, remembering the sudden white hot feeling he had gotten when the giant spider nicked him. "It got me with one of its legs."

"Those things can't be clean. Definitely going to need more than just a bacta patch this time," Y/n mumbled to herself. She grabbed a cloth and the cleaning spray from the first time she had to patch him back together, setting it to the side as she looked back to him. Just being with him was making her anger at Cere slowly dissipate. At least for the moment. "Cal, I'm gonna need you to take your shirt off. I can't properly clean and bandage it with your clothes in the way," she said as strongly as she could. Trying to keep her professional relationship with him appropriate, she fought off the blush when she spoke.

Cal, however, had a different reaction. He wasn't used to being to exposed, so when she spoke, his face flared up and he cleared his throat awkwardly. And given the sudden emotions he was feeling around her lately, it didn't help his prospects as he fumbled with the hem of his shirt. He took off his scrapper vest first, setting that down, and started working on getting the shirt over his head. He winced at the feeling, the pain starting to spread through the rest of his chest, until he felt light hands helping him get up and over his head. The pain ebbed away as he rested, but the pounding in his heart did stop.

Y/n was holding his shirt in her hand now, and lost the ability to speak for some reason. Gesturing with her free hand, she motioned for him to sit back down onto the cot. He followed her instructions, and she tried her best not to let her eyes roam over his figure. Being a Jedi and a scrapper filled him in well. Freckles dotted his skin and arms, but she shook her head to stop herself from looking. She knew that had it been any other person in the galaxy, or hell any other time she was looking at Cal, it would be far more professional than this. She had handled every kind of person in the galaxy at some point. She scolded herself for acting this way around just Cal. She had seen plenty of similar physiques in her career.

Reminding herself of her job, she set the shirt to the side and took the cloth and disinfectant spray. The injury stretched from the center of his torso to just under his left arm on the serratus anterior muscle. It was an odd placement, but not the oddest she had worked with. Especially in Coruscant. She gently sprayed around it, cleaning the wound, before dabbing it with the cloth. The touch to the irritated skin made Cal wince and hiss at the feeling. She looked up at him in worry, but he shook his head, saying, "It just stings a little, that's all."

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