thecapitol | the sky is awake

Entry tags:

the sky is awake

WHO| Hans and Starkiller [closed]
WHAT| Look friend, I didn't die like we all thought I would.
WHEN| Backdated to directly after the mini-arena.
WHERE| D3, Starkillers lameass room.
WARNINGS| Talk of murders? What is this, the hunger games??

He made it. He knew he would. Sort of. When it had been revealed as a tactical arena, he'd been confident, but it had taken stooping to some old lows to come out as one of a few victors. The promise of permanent death had thrown him through a loop, but of course it had been a filthy lie. He's irritated that he couldn't detect the joke in it all, that he'd compromised himself severely for no real reason. But he made it. At least he can say that.

For a variety of reasons, he isn't interested in seeing many people. He doesn't want to face judgement or surprise and he doesn't want to hear about how he was fooled. He figures he'll lounge in bed until someone pesters him, but when nobody comes he can't help seeking out the attention he craves. It's still early for a lot of people, probably a little earlier than he'd even had training sessions. He hadn't even glanced at the time, he'd just allowed his restlessness to guide him up out of bed and down the halls. He acts as if he doesn't have a particular place in mind, but he's taking a quite pointed trip to District Three. After all he's been through, he thinks some gloating is in order. He'll even pretend not to be a little crestfallen that he wasn't called upon first. Now who's being lazy?

He raps at the door politely, only now realising how severely early it is. He doesn't want to bother anyone else in the dorm. Just Starkiller. He's owed a lot of bothering, he thinks. He'll knock once more when the other man doesn't answer, the impatience almost apparent in the way he gently beats his knuckles rapidly on the door. The tables have turned, it seems. It's time for him to be wildly inappropriate and enter Starkiller's room when any normal person would be asleep. He absolutely refuses to walk back to his dorm after inconveniencing himself with the trip.

It's a strange sight, seeing the other man seem so absolutely, blissfully peaceful. Hans can't help admiring how incredibly stupid he looks before he takes his spare pillow into his hand, edges closer and brings the cushiony object down on the other man with all the force he can muster.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hans might've known he would make it, but Starkiller hadn't. Hoped? Yes, though he wouldn't admit how hopeful he had been. A part of him had even been a little... worried- more than he had expected himself to be. Starkiller isn't one to form attachments to people. The only friend he's ever had is a robot programmed to kill him. Any other forms of attachment were considered a weakness; yet he'd formed an attachment to Hans, that couldn't be denied.

The idea of losing his only friend in this strange, frustrating world had been rather stressful. But at the same time, he'd had faith in Hans. The two of them had trained together, they had spent countless hours going over strategy and Starkiller had taught him as much as he possibly could in their time together. After that, it had been up to Hans. All Starkiller could do was watch and hope for the best, whilst trying to ignore the very distracting feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him he was anxious.

Ignoring it was hard. He wasn't used to feeling that way about anyone and he didn't even understand it. Before being brought here, he'd felt... something towards Juno. An attraction? He wasn't sure, having never having had the opportunity to feel that way about anyone. All he knew was that in regards to both, it felt like a weakness. But here, things were different, in a way. He didn't have a Master to please. He didn't have to concern himself with disappointing anyone, or angering anyone. That made it a little easier to deal with, but no less confusing. At times, he couldn't help comparing Hans and Juno.

Different as night and day, but somehow each playing a large part in his life. It would be easier to sort through, if he had someone to talk to, maybe. If Proxy were there- though, he didn't think a robot could offer much in the way of advice, so that was stupid. He'd resigned himself to just having to sort them out on his own, in his own time, as hard as it would be to do that. It seemed it would take even longer, considering how many distractions he faced. And a part of him thought that maybe it wouldn't even matter- if Hans died, that would be that. Confusion over. The other part of him felt... strangely guilty for even considering that.

Hans made life difficult.

But then he'd done better than Starkiller had hoped for, which made him happier than he's used to feeling, yet he forced himself to be more guarded, to not show it. ~~To conceal it, not feel it.~~ It's why he hadn't went looking for Hans- he'd won, that was that. There was no need to make a show of it. Starkiller would congratulate him in time, when he saw him- and he hadn't expected to see him in the middle of the night, in his room.

Deep asleep, he has no idea that Hans has crept into his room. He has no idea that he's being watched. He has no idea that a pillow is being brought down upon his face until it connects with a soft thud. It wakes him up instantly, alarm and anger coursing through him as his fight or flight instincts kick in full blast- and he almost always fights. Starkiller sits up, a growl tearing from his throat as he lunges at Hans- who in the dark, he doesn't recognize- and tackles him right to the floor, his hands gripping at his assailant's wrists and forcing them down so he can pin them to the floor.

On top of him, Starkiller can finally make out the person he's pinning to the floor.

"You-" He's flabbergasted. "What were you thinking?"

Hans had a feeling that Starkiller's faith in his abilities was rocky at best. Yes, they trained together, but the man did have a tendency to underestimate him. Just as he had a tendency to make assumptions based on his own judgements and preconceptions, and he wasn't always right. Hans was always right.

After all, he was right in assuming Starkiller would be the right choice for an alliance. The training had been grueling, but fruitful. He's sure Starkiller would expect kudos for the victory, but really he should be damn glad he's alive. Which is why, despite his ability to detach himself emotionally from most situations, the fact that Starkiller didn't make a concentrated effort to see him just bothers him deep down. Not because his feelings are hurt, but because his expectations and his pride have had to take a step down. Perhaps he's making his desire for attention and loyalty a little too subtle. As the character he's presenting he might be easily pleased, but any human would want a little more concern out of a mutual friendship. Gosh.

Naturally, he should have practiced a little more caution when enthusiastically attacking someone like Starkiller. Clearly he's getting too used to him being disarmingly stupid and nonthreatening to anything but sleeping in. He does let out a yelp of surprise, but he's quick to get his wits about him. Fighting back will amplify the situation, so the best thing he can do is let him know it's him and he's not going to fight him. And the best way to do that? Laughing, apparently. "It's me- it's me!" He manages to squawk between chuckles. He isn't letting on how perturbed he is about being pinned because he's investing everything into just laughing like this is really amusing and not at all painful and awkward.

"I was thinking I'd return the favour of waking you up early." He finally conveys a little annoyance in a grumble, trying to pull his wrists back. "And you called me over dramatic." He raises a brow before falling silent and taking a moment to think about their positioning. "You really ought to stop doing this. Someone might get the wrong idea."

Starkiller would probably feel a little guilty if he knew how his lack of presence thus far had made the man feel. Still, he can't exactly control what his feelings make him do. It felt like the best course of action when his confusion is so great. He's sure if Hans knew, he would understand- well, if Hans were an un-biased third party and not the source of his feelings. But still.

He can't help but feel indignant and more than a little annoyed when all Hans does it laugh. This is serious- Hans has no idea how close he came to getting serious hurt. Hans clearly isn't taking this seriously at all.

"For all I knew, you were someone wanting to kill me! Self-preservation isn't dramatic it's a necessity." There's anger creeping into his voice more and more, though it's abated by the final comment from Hans. "I-" It takes a moment for him to realize what wrong idea people might get from this, and then he's quick to move off of the man and stand up. "They wouldn't be further from the truth if they got any kind of ideas."

It's true Hans would probably understand, not that he's really ever felt it before. He can certainly comprehend wanting to avoid and detach from people who are holding you back from your true potential, but avoiding people because of budding, sincere feelings isn't anything he knows about know. He's all about pursuing those lose ends and seeing what he can make of them, he's just waiting for a clear sign that any vague assumptions are accurate. Granted, romance is horribly boring and complicated most of the time, he's certain Starkiller could prove to be far more interesting than Anna ever was. If only because he's a volatile force to be reckoned with, when he isn't distracted by shoes at least.

"Please, if anyone wanted to kill you I'm sure they'd have done it by now." He sounds so comfortingly flippant about it. "And I'm sure they'd know better than to hit you with a pillow." He points out, again, being entirely unhelpful. At least he's distracted by how curiously fast that comment has Starkiller reeling and moving away. He meets his denial, not that he really knows it is, with a small and seemingly genuine smile. "They can make ideas out of thin air- but can we focus on what's important?" Me. "I made it out of two very dangerous scrapes, I think I've earned a little praise."

If possible, Starkiller's expression goes even more grumpy- a worthy goal, considering he's never looked more annoyed than he does right now. "You're underestimating me if you think anyone could easily kill me." If he brings up the shoes at all, Starkiller swears to god he's going to punch something. "And you're overestimating the Capitol as well."

He doesn't like this conversation. He doesn't like thinking what the Capitol must think of either of them- Hans is just making things more confusing for him by bringing it up, and as a result he wants to just pretend there's no confused feelings for him.

As a result, he ends up scoffing at Hans' words. "So you woke me up in the middle of the night just for a little praise? It couldn't wait until morning?" The idea of actually praising him is... strange to Starkiller. Congratulations are in order, yes. But he's never been praised before in his life- and he's so annoyed with Hans that he wants to refuse out of spite.

"What is it you expect me to say?"

"It happens to the best of us." And the knowing look that follows the expression is pretty telling of the fact that he's thinking about shoes. They both died in that arena, so trumpeting about being unbeatable is woefully transparent. "Forgive me for overestimating a monolithic government with secret kidnapping, power-draining abilities. I'll be more careful about my assumptions in the future." He gives him the driest of looks for his attitude before the smile slowly starts to creep back onto his face.

And then it goes again. God. He rolls his eyes at Starkiller's callousness and moves a little close so he can shoulder bump him. "No." He begins, first taking a seat on the edge of his bed so he can look expectantly up at him. "I came here to see you, praise is merely an added benefit- and a much pleasanter topic of conversation, I might add." He shrugs his shoulders. "You could say you're glad I didn't die, but I'm not so sure that's how you feel right now." There's a little bit of a sharp edge to his voice there, because he's not being particularly subtle about guilting the other man.

Starkiller really hates it when Hans makes a point. He would make the argument that the Empire he comes from is similar to this and he still survived there, but they didn't have the power to drag people from other universes. So it doesn't quite stack up. He also knows exactly what that look said, and he has nothing to say about it. Fuck you for thinking of the shoes, Hans. He's certain that if Hans had had shoes that made Anna noises, he would have gone crazy far sooner. Love or not, one can only take so much of her.

It's times like this that Starkiller never fails to wonder how Hans can be so... friendly, when he's being treated so poorly. Here Starkiller is, angry as can be at the man, and he bumps him with his shoulder and mentions wanting to see him. It actually makes him feel guilty for being so sour towards him, and it also makes him think back to how afraid he'd been of never seeing Hans again. Hans really hadn't needed to continue to make him feel guilty, but as he speaks it grows only stronger.

Now that he's made a comparison in his mind between Juno and Hans, it's hard not to think about it at times like this. Even when he'd treated her rudely, she'd always managed to stay professional and she hadn't gotten angry with him, either. Or else, he hadn't paid much attention to his affect on her. Likewise, Hans is good at staying together.

But comparing Hans to Juno makes no sense to him. He couldn't make sense of his feelings towards Juno and he certainly can't do so in regards to Hans, either. Had he been attracted to Juno? Admitting to it is a weakness he doesn't want to admit to. A weakness that would have been dangerous to both of them. That's why he's so damn confused, though. If he found Juno attractive, then-?

No, it doesn't matter. What matters, is right now. This conversation. "If I gave you that impression, then you've gotten the wrong one," he says slowly. "I've told you before that I consider you my friend. Why would I want a friend to die?" He's avoiding the topic of praise for the moment, trying to work out how best to even approach that.

Speaking of underestimating, Starkiller underestimates Hans and his immense ability to tune out absolute bullshit. Otherwise they might not be such good friends! He does feel his temper flare ever so slightly when Starkiller is so unbearable, but an argument would be so tiresome. He knows how to get what he wants, it'll be far more satisfying if he takes the slow and sure approach and keeps his cool.

"It was sarcasm, Stark. I thought you were familiar with that." He crinkles his nose up at him, indicating that he was joking and not making accusations. "I simply meant to imply that friends generally have warmer welcomes for one another when they've been through unpleasant circumstances." He elaborates, patting the bed beside him enthusiastically. "Why don't you sit down?"

"Yes, I'm familiar with sarcasm. Just... not about something so serious." Despite the fact that he knows Hans is joking with him, he's taking it seriously. But Hans is probably used to that sort of thing. Always serious. One has to wonder if the man ever laughs- the answer is no,.

Starkiller doesn't know why, but his movements are hesitant when he listens to Hans and sits down next to him. This is such a strange conversation. He almost wishes he could erase it from existence and pretend it never happened, but that's impossible and he shouldn't wish for something so silly. He also still feels bad, but he can't really articulate the words of an apology. They're not something he typically does, after all.

After a moment of thinking, his mind lands on a gesture that Hans likes to do. He leans closer to him and gives him a shoulder bump, trying his best not to feel anything at all. At least not anything negative. "If you had died, I would be alone," he says after a moment. "Or... I thought I would, given the Capitol's lie. That thought... the one of being alone. It isn't as appealing I thought it would be."

It's easier to admit things in a roundabout way, instead of saying it directly. "Your training paid off well," he finishes. That's about as good as he can manage for praise right now. His mind is too... busy. A mass of thoughts, though nothing solid. He honestly doesn't know how he feels right now. Glad to be in Hans' company, despite their little argumen- and yet, anxious. As if simply being next to him is compromising him in some way he can't explain. If he could stop thinking of Juno, it would be easier, he thinks.

"There's no need to put on airs over it, is there? I'm fine and so is everyone else. Besides, you're a tough nut to crack, if I wasn't a little flippant with you we'd never get past bickering." He shrugs, not seeming to regret his comments or the approach he's taken when he weaseled his way out of being yelled at.

When Starkiller finally sits his stupid ass down, Hans moves to pet his hand, not expecting the shoulder and swaying when it connects. After that, he'll lean in a little closer so that they're shoulders are just barely apart. The smile is in full force when the other man begins to speak honestly, though it isn't directly a compliment, it still feeds his ego. He feels wanted and needed and somehow, for a very brief moment, he feels satisfied by that answer. But Stark is only one person, and one person isn't enough. Especially if he needs to pester him so much for an answer.

"I'll never leave you alone." He confirms, feeling that insecure vibe from Stark that he felt from Anna all those months ago. "And I was trained by the best." He admits, turning the tables and praising Stark instead. With that aside, he's happy to remain silent for a moment, seemingly subconsciously running his fingers over the back of Stark's hand.

A part of Starkiller wants to pull his hand away when Hans touches it, but he resists that particular urge. He's already acted so icy towards Hans, he doesn't want to further cause problems. It's a simple touch and he can tune it out and pretend it isn't even a thing.

But then Hans speaks again, and there's something in Hans' words that cause a reaction he can't describe, simply because it's so conflicted. A part of him is happy and relieved, to know that he isn't going to be alone. That Hans will stay by him. In his wildest dreams, he had never thought he would gain a friend here... or ever. As much as he cares about Proxy, it's wonderful to have an actual, living and breathing friend. To not be alone. If being attached to someone is a weakness, he's starting to think it's a weakness he's willing to go into.

And yet, the conflict comes in the form of a spike in anxiety. A roll of his stomach. The sense that he shouldn't be giving into this weakness. That maybe he's too attached. He can't help but curse the mini arena for causing him to think about Hans this way, to think about what he would do without the man. It's caused him to act very odd and he feels at war with himself.

Without particularly meaning to, he jerks his hand away from Hans, his skin tingling in the strangest way. "Glad you think so," he says quickly. Starkiller stands up then. "Are you thirsty?" He's already turned away from Hans and is moving over to the little pad on the wall. He presses a button, which causes a bottle of water to come from a little opening near the button pad. He chugs it as if he's suddenly dehydrated, not quite able to face Hans for the moment.

A voice in his head is telling him how stupid he's being, and in a way it's sobering. Being further away from Hans is certainly helping, as is not looking at him. The water doesn't help as much as he'd hoped. Still, he feels better and he turns back towards the man, finally.

"Have you slept at all tonight?"

Hans would be surprised if his honest and kind words didn't get to Stark a little bit, but he wouldn't be surprised if he pretended as if they weren't. His reactions speak for themselves, he thinks. He's so hesitant and eager to dismiss it, but it doesn't have the gruff, awkwardness that it might if the feeling weren't a little mutual. In fact, he's starting to think there's something a little more than mutual there. It's possible Starkiller is just this unfamiliar with the concept of friendship, but there have been behaviours a little too frequent to be simply circumstantial. Hans can't help wondering what he can expect from him, and the fact that he can't properly predict it just excites him more and more.

He folds his hands over his lap when Starkiller jerks away and stands, watching him with a fond smile as he does. "Somewhat." He admits. "For something a little stronger than water, I think." He gives his shoulders a small shrug, for once that isn't a lie. He's plenty hydrated, right now he'd prefer something to take the edge off the little cycle of memories from the arena. He remembers why he came here in the first place at that question. There's too much on his mind to sleep right now, but he's not sure he wants to admit that. At the same time, there's a little voice in his head telling him that it's natural to want to get it off his chest, and that Stark is probably the only person he'd fully be able to talk to about it.

"On and off." He responds with a small sigh. "I've had a little difficulty with it, to be honest. I thought I'd make it difficult for you too."

Starkiller is going to ignore Hans' reference towards something stronger. His first thought is that alcohol would be very bad in this situation. He's never had any- at least not enough to have any sort of effect on him. But right now, he just has the bad feeling that something he wouldn't like would come of it, and he would feel a lot safer if they were both sober. But he isn't going to stop Hans, if he wants to call for something a little stronger.

Instead, he would rather address the latter statement. The truth of the matter is, Starkiller is probably the best fit when it comes to talking about this- or he would be, if he were more open and honest. Starkiller hasn't ever really admitted to it, but he has nightmares and sometimes they're terrible. It's rare that he gets a truly peaceful night. It hasn't ever been something he's told anyone, or rather he's never had anyone to tell.

Ever since being betrayed and killed by Darth Vader, they've mainly centered around him. The burning agony of the lightsaber stabbing through his stomach, the feel of being slammed around the room by the Force. The arena hadn't helped- in fact, it's actually made the problems a lot worse. He can relate to Hans more than either of them realize. Starkiller tries to ignore it, though. If he pretends they don't exist, then they can't hurt him. Like a lot of feelings.

"I can see that," he says in response to the last bit, shaking his head lightly. There's no bite to it, though. He finishes up his water and tosses the bottle into the garbage. After a moment, he steps back over to the bed and sits down, a bit farther from Hans than he had been earlier. He isn't sure if he should broach the topic of nightmares, or if he should allow Hans to explain without prompt. If he brings it up, would that make it obvious that he suffers from them, too?

Finally, he figures out a way to press further without outright asking. "You won- isn't that what you wanted? I would have thought you could sleep soundly with that knowledge."

Where Hans comes from, wine is pretty much an equivalent to a nice warm glass of milk to calm the nerves. Mostly because they drink it from a fairly young age. It's not a vice so much as a comfort, and luckily he has the experience to handle it. That said, the Capitol boasts some particularly strong drinks, ones he probably wouldn't need much of to unwind for the evening. He feels himself considering it, because oddly enough, he trusts Starkiller not to compromise him. Or really, he trusts that he wouldn't know how to or have any reason to. He could be blind drunk and he doubts the other man would let him do more than put him to bed and lambaste him the next day.

As such, it's the perfect time to traipse over and order something a little stronger from the magic drink dispensing machine. He takes it easy with a long, slow sip and opting to stand for the moment and watch Starkiller curiously as he makes his point.

"I don't think there's anything about this place that warrants easy sleeping." He points out. "In previous Arenas? They sent past victors in with everyone else. Nobody is safe, really." He heaves his shoulders in a shrug. He's clearly done his research, but he isn't breaching what's bothered him yet. "I don't think it's a matter of what's ahead so much as what's left behind, you know?" He steps a little closer, worry apparent in his eyes. Maybe it's not his misdeeds keeping him awake, but he's presented himself as so innocent and well-meaning, it would be impractical to show absolutely no remorse.

Since he's playing this part, he might as well lay it on a little more. He takes another sip of his drink and lowers his eyes as he sits back down, letting his perfect posture sage a little when he does.

Hans is depressingly right about Starkiller not knowing or having any reason to do anything- mostly not knowing. That kind of thing isn't what comes to his mind easily, nor would he even know what to do if it did come to mind. So it's true, Hans is in pretty good hands if he were to get absolutely wasted- though, the lambasting would certainly make the hangover a hundred times worse.

Starkiller listens quietly as Hans speaks, eyes cast down to the floor. It's strange, how Hans' thoughts mirror ones he's had before in regards to doing Vader's bidding. Kill all witnesses, he'd been told. Hundreds of loyal Stormtroopers dead because of him. How much pain and suffering has he himself left behind in his lifetime? It's something he's tried hard not to think about, and he's certainly never questioned it out loud. But Hans' words are making him see that he isn't alone in having had these sort of thoughts. For the first time, he feels like he has someone he can talk to about them.

The only problem is actually doing the talking. But if not now, then when? What does he have to lose? Maybe they can help each other out, somehow. At best, he can help Hans cope.
Starkiller's eyes trail from the floor as his head turns to look at Hans. "So you're remorseful over what you had to do in order to win," he says after a moment. "You were given a task and you fulfilled it without question, because otherwise you would be killed. You did what you had to do." It might sound like he's rationalizing and justifying it, and in a way he is. But he isn't finished. "But now you're left with blood on your hands and wondering if you did the right thing."

He's been in that position a lot more than he cares to think, and oddly enough it's been being brought here that's made him really question all of this more deeply, if only because he's free to do so. There's no Dark Side to cloud his judgment, nothing to influence his decisions. Does he regret them? Yes. He's come to realize as much. But at the same time, he did what he had to do in order to live another day.

After a moment, he figures that he might as well take things just a little further. "Are you having nightmares?" he asks, almost hesitantly. He's come this far, it seems obvious that he's suffering the same conflicts as Hans with his insight on the matter. Might as well reveal he has nightmares, too.

It's not hard to see how pensive Starkiller is, even when Hans is distracted by his soothing drink and his made up woes. He knows the man is from a darker world than he is, he'd know it even if he didn't tell him. It's clear in his severe attitude and his disciplined nature, but it just makes him an interesting nut to crack. Hans hopes to have him open up a little more about his world and his story, any information he can get is something he can use.

Hans gives Stark a solemn nod when he asks his question, scooting just a little, subtle distance closer. "There isn't really a right thing to do in a situation like that, though. If I'm honest, I don't know how much thinking I was really doing." He gives his shoulders a little shrug, drawing in on himself and bringing his drink closer, almost protectively.

"Sort of.." He murmurs, looking down for a long moment before looking back up at Starkiller's face. "I don't know if it's nightmares so much as recounting it over and over again without sleeping, though."

"I don't know about that," he says, though there's a little conflict in his voice. He notices Hans inch closer, but he tries to ignore it. It's easy, considering his thoughts are on this subject now. In a way, he disagrees with Hans. On the other hand, he isn't entirely sure. Maybe Hans is right. "I think... doing whatever you need to do in order to survive is the right thing to do."

He knows on some level it doesn't justify it, but he would rather survive than die. He would rather Hans do what he must in order to survive, so that they could remain friends.

"So you just keep thinking too much about it," he says. "To the point it prevents you from sleeping."

That's happened to him before, and he's found that meditation helps. "I can teach you some meditation techniques to help clear your mind," he says. It doesn't get rid of the nightmares that come from after getting to sleep. But it does help get to sleep. "I think meditating is the only useful thing my master ever truly taught me."

Hans nods when Starkiller seems to agree with his line of thinking. Not that it's particularly surprising, the other man isn't exactly the pinnacle of righteous justice and self sacrifice. He's about compromise and perseverance, it's part of why Hans can be a little more honest with him than he would with most anyone else.

Surprisingly, it's actually relieving to say these things. He's getting a little less saccharine with his responses, letting his genuine thoughts slip into the conversation more than he would with anyone else. He simply continues to nod as Starkiller brings up everything that's been weighing on him more than he imagined it might.

"It's hard to sleep knowing that all my reasons and justifications were done under misconceptions and lies. And.. Knowing that the people I sacrificed are here to make me realise how selfishly I acted.." He lets out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding when he admits that, letting his head hang a little. "It's not something you can make up for with pie, I think." He forces himself to laugh, but it's soft and insincere. With that all out and the open, he's happy to focus intently on the distraction Starkiller is providing.

"I don't think I've ever heard of it." He raises a brow, wondering what it could be. "But if you think it could help, then I trust you."

If the mood weren't so heavy, Starkiller might have laughed a little at the reference to the pie. It's true, he really isn't sure that pie will make up for this. But at the same time, everyone else had been in the same situation, if they condemn Hans for doing what he needed to do in order to survive, then they're hypocrites. Anyone else would have done the same in his place, except for perhaps only the most pure and self-sacrificing person.

"I understand where you're coming from," he says. "But I think if anyone punishes you for doing what you did, then they're hypocrites. Anyone would have done the same thing you did, and anyone who says otherwise is probably lying. Yes, it's unfortunate that the ones you killed are still around, but all you can do is move on from it. You did what you had to in order to ensure you're here, right now. I personally wouldn't change that, and I imagine you wouldn't either."

With that little confession thrown out there, he'll be quick to move on. "Sometimes I forget how behind you are. But maybe meditation isn't something most people do..." He shrugs. "My usual techniques are... probably not what you're looking for. We're going to have to improvise a little." His usual method was to stare into the red blade of his lightsaber and meditate on the feelings it gave him- thoughts of death and destruction and whatnot. It was what Vader had taught him, and it wasn't something he thought would help Hans.

Maybe something new would help him, too. "First... sit with your legs crossed and close your eyes. Breathe. Block out everything but my voice, and then focus on your breathing."

"I don't think it's legitimate punishment I'm worried about so much as.. Well. My reputation, I suppose." Again, he's being far more honest than he'd ever be with anyone. Openly admitting to worrying about how people perceive him? It's not something he's used to being open about. You aren't meant to worry about those things, but in a place like this he feels like it's a constant fear for a lot of people. "I don't want to be perceived as someone cruel, but I can hardly erase how I acted under pressure."

With that, he lets out a sigh and scoots a little closer, reaching his hand out to pet Starkiller's wrist affectionately. "Before we start, I just wanted to thank you for listening- and for helping me. You've been a good friend to me, I truly appreciate it." He smiles brightly at him, even through the dark of the room, before he settles back to get into position as Starkiller is urging him to. He inhales deeply and lets his eyes fall shut, but his shoulders are still a little rigid, as if it's hard not to be a little well-postured even when he's relaxing.

Starkiller isn't sure what to say to Hans anymore. Not in regards to being perceived as cruel, nor the thank you- especially the thank you, though. As someone who's done his share of cruel things, he isn't sure what he ought to say to make Hans feel better. The thanks is another thing entirely. Is it really something worthy of being thanked for? Being a friend and listening?

"It's not something you have to thank me for," he says after a few moments. "Really. I'm just doing what I need to in order to ensure your sanity." See? Nothing more than that.

With that said, he will focus on teaching Hans how to meditate. He tells Hans to breathe, to clear his mind and all that, walking him through it as well as he can. He's never been the best teacher, so it feels a little weird- but he thinks he's doing well enough. After a little bit, he falls silent in his own meditation- for how long, he isn't certain.

Eventually he speaks up though. "Is this helping you?"

Hans will let Starkiller's resistance to being thanked go almost unacknowledged. He could easily argue his points, but these conversations often turn to bickering and semantics and he'd really rather focus on learning something new and shutting up for a little while.

As it turns out, meditation wasn't anything aggressive as he might have imagined, which is odd coming from Starkiller. It is absolutely relaxing, but there's no way to turn his mind off. No way but actual exhaustion, it seems. It's been a long, exhausting time for Hans lately and his resistance to sleep is coming back in full force. The silence and resolution he feels through the conversation with the company of someone he's coming to trust all pull together eventually and make him feel more at ease than he has in some time. Soon, he's slumping out of his position and onto his side, falling deeper into sleep more than dozing.

By the time Starkiller speaks up, the only response he's going to get is a snore.

Starkiller would be glad to know that he's apparently helping Hans relax so much, or at least he would if the annoyance doesn't end up being more than the satisfaction. When a few seconds pass and he doesn't get a reply, he's about to open his mouth and say something when that snore comes.

He opens his eyes, a little confused before realizing what's happened. "... You've got to be kidding me." Starkiller's kneejerk reaction is to press a hand to his forehead. This isn't exactly what he intended to happen- yes, a part of him is glad he's managed to help, but. Hans is in his bed. Asleep.

This is awkward and frustrating.

Starkiller is about to give him a prod, before he realizes that it's probably not a good idea. Hans has been having trouble sleeping, and he's finally asleep. What kind of asshole would wake someone up when they've finally managed to get to sleep? He groans softly, wondering when he turned into someone who actually cared about that sort of thing.

"You're such an idiot," he murmurs, trying to muster up more annoyance, but finding it hard to. The more he thinks about it, the more relieved he is at knowing Hans is finally getting rest and not worrying about things.

So with a grump, Starkiller takes his pillow and shimmies over to the far side of his bed away from Hans and lays down, facing the wall as he tries to ignore the other man's presence and actually get some sleep.

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