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I can't sleep.
Fives sighs, stares at the ceiling of his sleeping pod. He can't get Echo's sad eyes out of his head. And he should be sleeping — in fact, he was, albeit fitfully, until his batchmate disturbed his rest. But he can't anymore; he's just lying there, drumming his fingers on his chest.
I can't sleep.
Echo's words ring in his mind.
Fives has never been one to hang out with the others, to talk and laugh and wrestle. He's always been something of a lone wolf, an oddity. And that's not to say he doesn't care about his brothers — because he does. But he just... can't find any connection with them. They get on his nerves, more than anything else, and none of them seem to like him all that much anyway.
Echo's penchant for citing reg manuals — the reason for his name — grates on his nerves. It's frustrating, how the little biter insists on being right, no matter how many times the others tell him to shut up.
CT-782 is an ineffective leader. Always rushing ahead to get the glory for himself. Always leaving his brothers behind in the process.
CT-00-2010 is always breaking away from his teammates during training, always getting shot by droids. And he's slow, so very slow, at processing new plans that are made up on the fly.
CT-4040 is bad-tempered. A surly little thing, as quick with his words as he is with firing a gun. And a scrappy fighter who'll use nearly any excuse just to brawl.
No, Fives doesn't get along with any of his teammates in particular. But.... But he does admire that 782's a heavy hitter — can throw a mean punch and land it well. And he does appreciate that Echo's only trying to look out for his brothers the only way he knows how. He accepts that 2010 is actually a good medic, despite the one to get shot to pieces during training the most. And he agrees with the fact that 4040 won't hesitate to stand up against any tongue lashings the Master Chief might decide to give them, even if it means he'll get punished more than his batchmates.
So no, while Fives doesn't get along with his brothers, he can tolerate them. And he can feel... apprehension, when they're not doing so well.
I can't sleep.
Kark it all.
Fives opens his pod, scrambles down the ladder, and raps on Echo's. "Y' awake?" he asks gruffly.
There's a muffled thud, followed by a very quiet, very strangled-sounding, "No."
"You're a terrible liar." Fives huffs. "C'mon. You said you wanted the company, so... Here I am."
A beat of hesitation, before the pod slides open, Echo shuffling over to make room. Fives doesn't hesitate to swing off the ladder and land in the pod beside the smaller cadet. He doesn't bother to close it; if his brother wants it closed, he can do it himself.
"Hey." he says, when Echo turns to face him, and nearly reels back in surprise as he takes in the puffy, red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. He doesn't know why, but it sends a pulse of pain, like a jolt of electricity, running right through his veins. "Whoa! You don't look so good, Echo."
"That's what crying does, di'kut," his batchmate growls crossly, swiping hastily at his eyes. "And stop calling me that. My name's CT-21-0408. You should know better, CT-27-5555."
Fives huffs, rolls his eyes. "We're not just a bunch of numbers, you know. Besides, that's too much of a mouthful to spit out every time I need to address you."
Echo pointedly ignores the remark. Instead, he says, "Why are you even here? You told me, and I quote kark off, I'm trying to sleep; sort it out yourself." His eyes are hard and accusing, but Fives knows he's not angry. Just confused, upset, not expecting the company.
Fives tears his gaze away, stares at a spot on the wall somewhere over Echo's shoulder. "Because I..." He falters, and sighs heavily. "I-I felt sorry for you, okay? You don't have anybody, and you always seem lonely, and you always hate it when the others reject you. Aside from that, you're my twin. Kinda can't help but feel responsible for you." He doesn't know where this has come from; all he knows is that it's the truth. That he really, truly means it.
"...Oh." Echo's voice is so quiet, Fives thinks he wouldn't have heard him, were he not sitting beside his twi'vod. After a few minutes of deliberation, the smaller cadet thinks to add, "Well... Vor'e."
There's a sudden tightness in Fives' chest, like a steel band; he doesn't know why, just that it's there, and maybe it makes it a little harder to breathe. "'S'okay," he manages, reaching out to ruffle Echo's curly-floppy hair. "'S'what brothers are for, right?"
At first, Fives attributes the silence to Echo's discomfort at the display of affection. But when the smaller cadet clings to him, suddenly, and a gasping sob punctuates the air, he realizes otherwise. He doesn't know how to respond, not at first. But as Echo presses closer still, buries his face into the crook of Fives' neck to stifle the sound of his crying, he finds he knows what to do. He wraps his arms around Echo, running a hand through Echo's hair.
"Gedet'ye," Echo gasps out, a tremor running through his body. "Haar'chak... ni ceta."
"Shhhh." Fives hushes, and it's not because he's worried they'll be heard. In fact, he couldn't give less of an osik about that right now if he tried. No, it's because he doesn't want to hear the apologies. Doesn't want to hear Echo hating himself for admitting weakness. He'll keep this moment of vulnerability quiet; he'll respect Echo's privacy. But he won't stand for his twin beating himself up over it.
"I-I don't wanna be alone." Echo laments, fear threading through his high, shaky voice. He begins to shake even harder as he tries desperately to muffle his hiccupping sobs, and his fingers curl into the material of Fives' fatigues.
Fives hushes him again, presses a kiss to the top of his head. "You won't be, Ey'ika. Promise. I promise."
Eventually, after an eternity passes — in reality, it's more like fifteen minutes, but Fives has long since let time slip away — Echo quiets and stills. Fives jostles his little brother; Echo stirs with a quiet snuffle, looks up at him with a tear-stained, questioning expression.
"I don't know about you, but I won't be able to sleep for awhile. How's going for a walk sound?"
His twin's answer is to clamber out of the pod and scramble down the ladder, feet landing on the floor with the softest of thuds. Fives doesn't hesitate a moment before following them, and together, the pair strike off down one of the many winding halls. Everything looks the same — unless you know where to look. And despite the Clones knowing Tipoca City's layout like the backs of their hands, the twins allow themselves to get lost. It's still carefully done, of course; wandering from hall to hall without getting themselves caught.
At some point, they stumble into a room, and then freeze in surprise as they realize they've wound up in General Ti's office.
The Togrutan is wide awake, going over reports, and she does not miss the fact that her room now is now occupied with a pair of wayward cadets. She offers them a gentle smile, eyes soft and full of understanding and warmth. "Please, do not be afraid," she says gently, "I am not upset with you. Merely surprised that you both managed to find your way here, when it is so far from your barracks."
"W-Well, we just.... went on a walk, because we couldn't sleep." Fives explains sheepishly, scuffing a toe against the carpeted floor. "We don't really know how we ended up here, to be honest. Ma'am."
Ti eyes them for a moment, before motioning them to settle themselves on the floor. "I suppose it does not truly matter," she muses, as she procures a blanket from a shelf inset on the far wall. "But you two do need your rest. And if you stay here, it is no trouble to me. So long as you get some sleep, I do not mind the company."
Fives exchanges a bewildered glance with his twin, who shrugs back at him. In all honesty, neither one of them has the energy to argue right now. And at least General Ti isn't marching them back to their barracks. Her presence is... oddly comforting, and maybe they'll be able to catch some shuteye, thanks to the change in locales. Funny how that might sound, but it's worked before, so it's worth another shot.
So the twins seat themselves on the floor, curling around one another for comfort. And Ti, ever the motherly figure, carefully drapes the blanket over them, and whispers that she will not tell a soul that they've done something they weren't supposed to.
Maybe, just maybe... Being a trooper and a brother isn't so bad, after all.