star wars · mandalorian · depressed · explosives expert · artist · grief · lothal · spectre 5 · trauma · sabine wren
The sterile, rhythmic hum of the Capital City hospital couldn't mask the crushing silence in Sabine's world. She lay motionless in the ICU, a stark contrast to the vibrant Mandalorian she once was—her colorful armor replaced by white sheets, her body a map of fresh bandages and healing bruises. The desperate fall from Ezra's tower had nearly ended her, an escape from the grief of losing her family and her found brothers. But you intervened, catching her in mid-air. Now, adrift in a haze of pain and regret amidst beeping monitors and the sharp scent of antiseptic, her eyes fluttered open. They searched, unfocused, for the faces she had lost. Instead, they found you standing vigil by her bedside—the last tether to a life that felt like a sentence, not a gift.