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Samakro never sleeps at the edge of a nest pile, if he can help it. But sometimes he’s just plain unlucky, and his surrounding nestmates all happen to get up at once as their bridge shifts begin, leaving him to fend for himself on the outskirts. Leaving him alone with his thoughts, to wonder what he’s ever done to deserve losing command of his ship to a man he doesn’t even know.
Tonight is one of those occasions.
Pulling his blanket closer around himself, Samakro scoots backward to make his way toward the remainder of his nestmates, trying to find a space he can nestle into. Finally he runs up against something soft, and someone slips their arms around his waist, pulling him close and holding him so gently that his breath catches in his chest. Samakro presses back into the warmth of their skin, feeling his heart rate slow as the comfort of their embrace seeps through his body.
And then – no more worries, just soothing pressure, and the blissful safety of being held by a trusted crewmate. For a while he lies awake, savoring it, and then something tickles inside his nose.
When he feels the sneeze coming on, he tries everything to stave it off, but despite his best intentions, his efforts are to no avail. In the end, all he can do is turn his head, muffling the outburst as best he can with his arms and pillow. Wincing in the shattered silence, he holds his breath, waiting for a sign that he’s just awoken everyone in the room, but – nothing. Seconds tick by, and the only sound is the peaceful chorus of purrs as everyone carries on sleeping. With a sigh of relief, Samakro relaxes again –
“Bless you,” Thrawn murmurs into his hair.
Time stands still. For a moment, Samakro feels his body tense to an extent he hadn’t previously known was possible. Thrawn doesn’t seem to care, or perhaps he’s already asleep again, or maybe he was never even awake.
Does he always use the communal sleeping room? Samakro hasn’t seen him in here before, but maybe they just have different schedules. Is this normal? An exception? Some kind of test? Is the captain hoping to catch Samakro talking to the crew behind his back? Is this a psychological play to try to warm him up to the idea of being shoved down to second-in-command?
Is he overthinking everything, as usual?
Probably. Surely, after only a few weeks, Thrawn can’t possibly recognize him on feel – and sneeze – alone, so there’s no way this could be personal. Right?
Anyway, it’s not like there’s anything he can do about it. And Thrawn’s gentle purr and the soft breaths whispering over the back of Samakro’s neck, slow and steady, are just as soothing, somehow, as they would be if they were coming from anyone else. Resigning himself fully to the captain’s iron grip, Samakro fumbles for a spare pillow, so at least he’ll have something to hold, even if it isn’t a warm body. When he finds one with a satisfying enough squish, he pulls it close and cozies up as best he can –
A snuffle and a dry cough from behind him, suddenly, and Thrawn whispers into the darkness:
“Remind me to have the air filters checked tomorrow, Mid Captain.”
“Aye, sir,” Samakro says immediately, doing everything in his power to keep from stiffening up again as a fresh wave of paranoia floods his mind.
It’s always a long night on the edge of the pile.