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i-will-physically-fight-you · 5 years

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Hiiiii. Bet you can't guess what platonic pairing I'm gonna ask for! Sleepxiety please, and either number 11 or number 20, dealers choice!

Title: Light in the Hallway

Summary: A nightmare. It’d just been a nightmare. Third time this week. Had he been screaming? He must’ve screamed loud enough to wake the Jedi Master up. Now surely his new master is angry with him. No doubt he would berate him for being so weak. // Or, Virgil has a nightmare and Remy helps him out

Pairing: platonic sleepxiety

Word-Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Nightmare, death, blood, corpses, references to past abuse (specifically parental abuse), Villain Deceit (Not mentioned by name, vaguely referenced), crying, hurt/comfort

Acantha has already read this, but this is based off a Star Wars AU that I ranted to her forever ago. This takes place after the main story but basic facts: Virgil is a former Sith apprentice now being trained as a padawan under Jedi Master Remy.

It’s dark. Where are the stars? Where are the moons? The many eyes of the night sky cannot be seen. Although his kind has adequate night vision, this frightens Virgil. He stumbles, his hand flying to the hilt of his saber. With a swiooosh he pulls it out. Red. Bright, crimson red. He almost drops it immediately.

Instead with his other hand, he clasps his mouth. He stares down at the scenery illuminated by the awful red lightsaber and does not move. Bodies. All around him. Dead bodies. Their faces forever frozen in fear. Submerged in an ocean of their own blood. Someone is screaming. He thinks it might be him.

“Well done!”

Cackling. Loud, cankerous cackling. Virgil’s heart beats faster.

“Where are you?!” He shouts, frantically swirling around, “SHOW YOURSELF! MURDERER!”

“Murderer?” The voice says, Virgil gasping as a scaly hand reached out to cusp his cheek, “Oh, I’m not a murderer here.”

A black cloaked figure stands before him. Features indescribable in the shadows. Yellow glowing eyes stares him down, calculating.

“You are.”

The hand shakes his shoulder violently and Virgil thrashes, fighting it’s grip. He would not be taken, not this time. He refuses to believe he murdered those people. He’d--he’d never--

“Virgil, Virgil!”

Virgil stops flailing, startled. His master never used that name. He always insisted Virgil had no want for names. No, a true sith yearns for a title--a namesake that strikes fear into the hearts of their enemies. Blinking back tears, Virgil looks to see that the scenery has changed.

Gone is the darkness, the corpses and the blood. Virgil lies on a soft surface, a gentle light illuminating the figure looming above him. They are dressed in brown, loose-fitting robes. A pair of black goggles covers up their eyes.

“M-m-master Remy.” Virgil stammers, fear coursing through him. A nightmare. It’d just been a nightmare. Third time this week. Had he been screaming? He must’ve screamed loud enough to wake the Jedi Master up. Now surely his new master is angry with him. No doubt he would berate him for being so weak.

But that doesn’t quite happen. Instead the man smiles thinly, “We’ve been over this before, kid. You don’t haveta call me Master. Just Remy is fine enough.”

“But--”

“No buts,” Remy says as he lets go of Virgil’s shoulder, “You know I don’t care about such things. I’m a rebel.”

“Y-you’re on the Jedi Council though.” Virgil points out.

“Yeah, well, that’s because they knew I’d create way more havoc outside the council than inside.” Remy winks, sitting on the edge of Virgil’s bed.

The two sit in contemplative silence. Virgil tries not thinking about gleaming yellow eyes. He tries not to think about what actually happened, how close he’d been to falling. He tries and he fails. Virgil wheezes, his breaths growing rapidly shallower.

“Whoa, deep breaths, Vee,” Remy tells him, “just like we practiced.”

“I’m--I’m sorry,” Virgil hiccups, but Remy has none of that.

“No apologies needed, Starlight,” Remy says, “It’s okay.”

“I--I woke you up--I’m weak and p-p-pathetic--you should just leave--”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Remy interrupts, removing his goggles to get a good look at him. Even in the mostly darkened room, his light-sensitive eyes are bothered by Virgil’s nightlight. Still he fixates his gaze on Virgil, the young former Sith apprentice. Virgil who has seen too much pain and hurt in such a short time. Virgil who is now his padawan, Remy’s responsibility to guide and protect.

He offers his arms to Virgil, who hesitates a moment before crashing into them. Remy holds onto him, gently massaging his back as Virgil sobs.

A sliver of anger courses Remy briefly. Angry at the hurt Virgil’s suffered. Angry that Remy can’t take it away from him. Angry at the injustice. Remy lets it pass through him and into the force. Anger though righteous is not needed, not now. Right now, Virgil needs comforting.

“You’re strong Virgil,” Remy says as Virgil’s tears tamper off, “Weaker Jedi have fallen where you have chosen not to.”

“I don’t feel strong.” Virgil says, sniffling. How can he be weak when he lets nightmare plague his mind? Nightmares that are an indication of the fear and the darkness that runs inside his veins still? Remy seems to know his thoughts, however.

“Virgil, do you think I’m strong?”

He nods.

“Lemme get you in on a secret,” Remy drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “I get nightmares too--don’t get much sleep because of it. I’d be a real bitch if I didn’t drink caf to cope. Does having nightmares make me weak?”

“No, but--”

“Kid, what did I say about the buts?”

“But it’s different,” Virgil presses, “I’m different.”

“Why?”

“Because what if it isn’t a nightmare? What if it’s a force vision? What if--”

“--it becomes real?” Remy finishes.

“It--I mean--yeah,” Virgil swallows, “I don’t want that to happen, I don’t want to be bad. But a part of me really wanted to--to...please him. Make him proud of me. I know that’s awful and horrible, but I really wanted it. Just a little. And even though I know it’s all over, I’m afraid that…”

Virgil’s throat seizes up and he’s unable to force any more words out. His eyes sting, his lungs burn and he’s so, so tired. He leans his head against Remy, angled in such a way that his curved horns don’t poke the Jedi Master.

“Virgil, whatever happened in your nightmare, that’s not who you truly are--you are not the dark thoughts inside your head, alright?” Remy says, “It’s okay to feel scared, to knowledge that emotion. It’s when you let that fear control you is when it becomes a problem. Or when you try to suppress it--that’s a real bitch and a half. As your mentor in the Force, I’m here to listen, always.”

Virgil doesn’t know how to respond. He’s still learning how to handle genuine heartfelt words being thrown at him like this. He’s not used to it, especially after a childhood under the thumb of a manipulative Sith Lord.

Later in the morning, doubt will start to creep into him. He’ll wonder if Remy truly meant what he said tonight. But that’s okay, because Remy is up for reminding him, again and again that he’s safe. He is worthy. And importantly, he is loved.

Virgil swallows, tears blurring his vision, “Remy, can you--can you stay here? With me?”

Remy slowly nods, a tired smile slipping onto his face as he ruffles Virgil’s hair.

“Here with you kid? There isn’t any other place in the galaxy I’d rather be.”

#thomas sanders #sander sides #virgil sanders #remy sanders #sleep sanders #platonic sleepxiety #kat writes #this is so incredibly self indulgent #i was super into the star wars fandom before sander sides #so marrying the two is just like #*chef's kiss*#to me anyways lol #also yes the Jedi Council threw a fit about even entertaining the thought #of a former sith apprentice being trained as a jedi #why do you ask?

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