Frank sat still as a medical device was wrapped around his arm. He stared off at the gray wall as it began to squeeze his arm tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter-

"Frank!"

Frank blinked at the sound of his name. He turned to the door to see Ray doubled over, breathing heavily. He raised his head, eyeing Frank with amazement. "You're alright?"

"Please refrain from exciting him." The medical evaluator said flatly as he pulled the device from Frank's arm.

"Of course, sir." Ray panted as he came further into the small room. "Just... Just had to see him."

The medical evaluator said nothing. He set his device in a cabinet before grabbing his clipboard and noting something down.

Ray took the now empty spot beside Frank. "I can't believe you're okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Frank asked. His mind was still a fog. He was barely able to respond to basic questions from the evaluator. He wasn't even sure why he was here.

"I mean, that rebel leader took you." Ray replied. His breathing was finally calming to an even pace. "Had your dad in a fury like I've never seen."

"Rebel leader?" Frank squinted at Ray. He could almost see a face in his head, but the fog covered it from coming through. "I don't remember any of that."

"Which is probably for the best." A new voice cut in, bringing all three men in the room to attention. The Force Captain walked in, eyeing all of them before instructing them to drop their salute. "Mister Toro, I believe my son need some rest."

"Apologies, Force Captain." Ray kept his head down. "I wanted to see him, but I'll now leave him to recover."

Frank watched Ray get up, noting a fear in his eyes as he moved past the Force Captain and quickly out of the room. Frank then turned his attention to the Captain himself, who wasn't paying Frank any attention.

"Well?" He questioned the medical evaluator.

"Physically, he seems normal, minus the bruising on his arm." The man shrugged, "Mentally there seem to be roadblocks, but it may be the trauma of what he saw and experienced on the planet's surface. I already have the prescription to soothe any symptoms of that ready."

"Trauma?" Frank looked down as the Force Captain seemed to notice him for the first time.

"Force Soldier, do you really not remember anything?" The Captain asked with a raised eyebrow.

Frank shook his head. Planet's surface. Rebel leaders. All things he heard in passing, but didn't make sense in relation to him. He felt so tired just thinking about it all.

"Don't think too hard." The Captain laughed. "We'll get it all sorted. In the meantime, you'll take your medication and prepare for the Force Commander's arrival as planned."

"Yes..." That he remembered. The Force Commander would be coming to the base. He would be inspecting... Meeting... and then having a dinner with top officials. "Yes, sir."

"That's a good soldier." The Captain replied, slapping a hand down on Frank's shoulder. He squeezed it tightly, making Frank wince. "Glad to have you back, son."

Frank looked forward, towards the gray wall again. Its surface was smooth and flat, free of any blemishes or imperfections. His brow furrowed as he looked at it. Was that what it was supposed to look like?

"Force Soldier?" The grip on his shoulder became even tighter, bringing a significant pain with it.

"Yes, Force Captain." Frank responded, shutting his eyes and cutting off his questions.

—-

Time passed but, to Frank, it just seemed like it stood still. He had been given a bottle of white pills once he had been cleared to leave the infirmary and escorted to his own room within the Force base that he didn't remember having before. When he tried to ask his fellow soldiers, they just gestured him into the room and shut the door behind him.

He wandered to the bed, feeling lost as he looked around the gray interior. Everything was the same muted shade around him, except for the occasional black or white accent. Frank sat on the bed, still holding the pill bottle in his hand. It had his name on the label, but no other information about the medication inside. He had been told verbally that he should take one every morning, but shouldn't it have been written on the bottle?

He carefully unscrewed the cap before tilting the bottle and sliding a pill into his hand. It was an oblong white pill that almost hurt to look at. He slid it back into the bottle before putting the lid back on the container.

He looked around his room.

He slept.

He woke up and took his pill.

Time passed.

Eventually, it was the day before the dinner that would follow the Force Commander's arrival. In a break of routine, Frank carefully pulled the suit he had been given out of his closet before taking his pills. He laid it across his bed, flattening the small creases that popped up with his hand. As he did, his fingers brushed against a small tear in the fabric. Frank paused his movement. He brought his fingers back to where he felt the tear, trying to find it against the dark fabric. Despite retracting the exact path his fingers had gone before, he felt nothing. He frowned, trying once again to find it.

Once again, there was nothing.

Look for the cracks

Frank jumped as the unfamiliar voice echoed in his head. He looked around his room, but he was completely alone. Even when calling out, there was no response.

Frank shook his head. He had to have been imagining things. His recovery had been lonely in this new room... That had to be it. He moved to where he kept his pills and tilted the bottle in his hand. There was still a good amount left based on the sound it made when angled to the side. He hovered his other hand over the lid to open it, but couldn't bring himself to fully commit. What if... What if they were preventing him from remembering? After a moment of debate, he slowly put the bottle back in its place without having opened it. One day couldn't hurt... Right?

He sighed. He needed out of this room. He needed to see someone. He needed to talk to someone.

He carefully put his uniform on and stepped in front of the mirror to check himself. He stood tall in his dark green button up shirt and matching pants. The Force symbol embroidered proudly on his shirt breast as he pushed his hair back. The longer he looked, however, the more it felt like his chest was tightening. It felt hard to breathe as he looked at himself in the uniform he had always worn. He turned away from the mirror, bringing a hand up to his chest.

Look for the cracks

"Shut up!" He grabbed a clump of hair with his free hand, shutting his eyes tightly. Was this because he didn't take his medication as soon as he usually did? Was this the 'trauma' the medical evaluator had mentioned to the Force Captain? Maybe he should open the bottle...

Frank dropped to his knees, breathing heavily. Why did this feel wrong? How could this feel wrong? With shaky hands, Frank began to fight with the buttons on his shirt. After a few minutes, he was finally able to rip it off, tossing it to the side and letting it sprawl out on the floor.

It felt easier to breathe now... why was it easier to breathe?

A knock at his door pulled him back from his thoughts. No one had come to visit him since he had arrived to his room. He scrambled up to his feet and tried to regain his composure as he moved across his room to the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by a woman with dark hair. She let out a soft "oh" when she saw him, cheeks reddening as she looked down. "Hello, Frank."

"Jam." Frank looked down at his bare chest before covering it with his arm. "I'm sorry-Ah..."

"I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to visit." She stepped into the room as Frank stepped back. "They wanted you to focus on recovery, but I was granted exemption because of the dinner coming up." She looked around his room, brows furrowing as she looked towards the shirt Frank had thrown to the ground.

Frank moved across the room, grabbing an undershirt from the closet he had pulled his suit from. He slipped it over his head and turned to face Jamia, who held his uniform shirt in his hand. She looked back at him with curiosity, and a hint of worry. "No one knows how you've been holding up. Ray's especially worried."

Frank rubbed the back of his neck as Jamia walked over to him. "I've been... It's been..."

"You're going stir crazy?" She asked, offering a small smile as she reached for a hanger from the closet.

Frank let out a laugh. "That may be a word for it..."

Jamia hung his shirt and turned to him. "Well, why don't we take a walk? We can talk and try to make you feel stir sane." She looked him up and down before pointing at his head. "Maybe wear a hat, though, just in case they don't want you out of your room still. We can hide your face."

Frank nodded as she reached back into his closet. "This is why you're on track to be top leadership." He smiled as she held the Force cap out to him. He took it, though hesitated to put it on. The stitched logo on the front of the cap still felt... wrong.

Jamia took the hat from his hands and secured it on his head. "I'm a problem solver when I want to be." She smiled before gesturing him towards the door. Frank followed behind her, continuing with her out the door and into the base.

All in all, the halls and other spaces they walked through within the Force base were all extremely similar to his room. Gray. Smooth. No real variation in style or color. The two soldiers kept their eyes low as they walked, avoiding anyone's gaze that may have gotten them stopped and questioned. Eventually, they made it to an empty lounge. Jamia lead the way to a table near the wall and sat down as she pulled her hair up into a bun. Frank was on his way to sit across from her, but stopped when he was in front of a small window to the outside.

The world was orange.

Orange.

Rocky.

Devoid of life.

No...

Frank brought a hand up to the side of his head as a pain suddenly popped inside his skull. Bursts of color danced in front of his vision with images of trees and small green plants before fading away with a blink.

"Frank?"

Frank pulled his eyes away from the window. He moved over to the table where Jamia sat and sat across from her, muttering an apology.

"You sure you're up for being out here?" She looked at him worriedly, "Maybe I shouldn't have pushed you."

"No! I needed it, really." He forced a smile.

She didn't look convinced, but she nodded all the same. "So, do you know what's so important about this dinner coming up?"

Frank shook his head. "Only that the Commander is landing on planet to take part."

"I don't think he's been down here since we were kids." Jamia whispered, despite them being the only ones in the room. "Remember that tiny table they would sit us at with the scraps while they ate all the fancy stuff?"

"Like how you stole pastries from their plates when they left us alone?" Frank laughed. He looked towards Jamia, but she was frowning at him.

"Why are you crying?" She asked.

Frank blinked at her. Was he? He brought a hand up to his cheek, feeling a wetness where his fingers touched. He quickly swiped them away, apologizing as he did. "I don't know."

"Is it from what happened?" She asked, gesturing to the wall. "Out there?"

Frank shook his head. "I don't remember going out there. Everyone just tells me I did."

"You should talk to Ray. He was part of the party that helped bring you back." Jamia offered, "like I said before, he's been worried."

Frank nodded, thinking back to when he woke up in the infirmary. Ray had been the first one beside the medical evaluator to be there for him, only leaving when his the Force Captain had sent him away. "Do you know where he is?"

Jamia nodded. "I can bring him. Just stay casual, in case anyone comes in."

Frank nodded as Jamia stood. She tapped the table in front of him before hurrying out of the room, leaving Frank alone once again.

Frank put his head in his hands. This all felt... wrong. Why could he still not remember things? Why did his uniform make it hard to breathe? Countless questions rattled around in his head as he sat in silence. It felt like hours before he felt a hand on his shoulder that made him raise his head.

Ray stood beside him, concern laced deep in his expression. "Frank," his voice was low, as if he was afraid someone would hear him, "what the fuck happened out there?"