.
SIGHT FOR SORE EYES
He slept disturbing well, her movements of his body didn't break him out of his sleep, nor did placing the injector into his shoulder. He seemed quite the heavy sleeper. The parting of his shirt would reveal a plethora of scar tissue, all of which looked relatively fresh. Several marks seemed to bare a mark similar to lightning bolts, others were made by cutting tools. Sith or no, he had seen many battles, this one however, he would be leaving without such a mark. Regardless, he seemed to have a somewhat restful sleep ahead of him.
But for Kaidan, his sleep was anything but restful.
He awoke on a medical table, strapped, chained, stripped bare and surrounded by many tools and medical devices. He attempted to rise, only feeling chains dig into his skin. There was a jolt of electricity, as his body convulsed on the table, the faint smell of burnt flesh reached his nostrils, phantom pain crossed across his body. He spent several moments trying to assert he was in a dream. It didn't alleviate the discomfort, but it did make it somewhat bearable. Until he heard that voice. "Proceed with the dissection." It was that of his father, there was no doubt. He craned his neck, trying to confirm it was him; only to remain trapped on the surgical table.
He attempted to shout, but no words came, he couldn't speak. He could hardly move as was. The tools about him whirled into motion, inching towards him, razor sharp instruments drew closer, panic seized his mind, and his struggle intensified. A mining laser ignited over head, slowly moving over head, as he could practically feel it's warmth washing over his face. He kicked, thrashed about as if his life depended on it. So hard was his fight, that he woke himself, kicking about as if in a struggle, and being rewarded by a dull pain in his formerly broken collarbone.
His breathing was elevated, and his body felt exceptionally warm. His eyes slowly opened as he tried to piece together what had unfolded. Then realized, he was still alive. The serpentine woman hadn't killed him? In spite of all her bluster she-was right beside him. He didn't flinch, rather his eyes snapped onto her, as if aware of the danger he was in. He rubbed at the aching body part, and raised an eyebrow. He couldn't have fixed all this damage by himself, in fact, he wasn't even sure how long he had been out.
"I will assume this is your work?" He inquired, struggling to recall the woman's name, but it came to him shortly after.
"I do hope this isn't a ploy to make me a more savoring kill, Barefu." Honestly, he had no idea what to even expect from this woman. He was getting mixed signals truthfully, and from his encounters with
Constance
, he knew that he was rather terrible at reading people.
"Regardless, I appreciate you not gutting me in my sleep." He would remark, moving so that both were sitting to face another. "Though, you had told me you were leaving. Surprised that you remained here, it's rather cold after all." She wanted something from him. That was all there was to it, but it wasn't to kill him. No. Definitely not that.
Why the hell did everyone have to be so cryptic?