Chapter Text
Being back aboard the Resolute wasn’t nearly the relief Tup had expected it to be.
Given his initial reluctance to spend even one night cycle planetside when they had first arrived on Coruscant after the nightmare that was Umbara, Tup had expected to feel… something. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel relief, not given how much he was already missing Comet and Wooley. He knew his vod’e were safe with their respective battalions, but that didn’t seem to help him miss them any less.
Honestly, between that sadness and the growing ache in his temples, relief was the last thing that Tup was feeling at the moment.
He was doing his best not to rub at his temples too much, lest he draw Fives’ attention once again. The ARC trooper had already commented on it earlier, aboard the LAAT/i that had carried them back to the Resolute.
He’d let it go then, seemingly content to accept Tup’s placations.
The younger trooper doubted he’d be as lucky a second time.
And since he had no interest in a visit to the Med Bay – or in being subjected to Kix’s tender mercies – Tup resisted showing any signs of pain or discomfort as he worked along Fives to get all of their belongings settled in their shared bunkroom before the upcoming debriefing with General Skywalker, Commander Tano, and Captain Rex.
Still, Tup couldn’t help the way he winced from time to time, an involuntary reaction to the flash of pain triggered by any loud noises from Fives or sudden movements on his part. His headache had undoubtedly worsened, shifting from a dull ache to a constant pounding in a matter of minutes, to the point where Tup knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his pain hidden much longer.
If only Fives was just a bit less observant.
“Hey, you alright?” Fives asked gently, sharp eyes trained on the younger trooper.
“Yeah… Yeah, I just…” Tup winced, struggling to come up with a valid excuse. He knew he must look awful if Fives had decided to press him for answers again – he felt awful – but still…
“Tup?”
“Yeah, I… I just… I don’t feel like myself,” Tup admitted, giving up the battle for normalcy when he reached up to rub at his temples more forcefully.
No point in hiding his discomfort now.
“That headache from earlier still giving you trouble?” Fives guessed, his brow furrowing in concern.
Tup knew that it was strange – vod’e didn’t get headaches. They didn’t get sick, in general – they had been designed not to, after all. It was perhaps one of the only useful things the Kaminiise had bothered to do, as far as Tup was concerned.
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Rayshe’a,” Tup mumbled. “A good night’s sleep and it’ll be fine.”
“You already played the “rayshe’a” card today, vod’ika,” Fives jested lightly. “Just let Kix check you out – if he says it’s nothing, then I’ll believe you. Kaab jate?”
Tup – perhaps stubbornly – shook his head.
“We both know if I go to the Med Bay, Kix will have me there for hours – if not through the night cycle,” Tup argued.
The younger trooper let a bit of a whine enter his voice before he continued, consciously turning a pleading gaze towards his very impressionable ori’vod.
“I’ll just sleep it off – we both know it’s likely just fatigue.”
Fives visibly wavered, the ARC trooper’s earlier persistence faltering in light of his vod’ika’s very sad, forlorn expression.
“Gedet’ye?”
Fives blew out a huge sigh, grimacing as he looked away from Tup, expression equal parts worry and frustration.
“Fine – gar parjir,” Fives grumbled.
Tup – just barely – resisted the instinct to cheer, reigning his unbridled enthusiasm in to a meek, thankful smile.
“But you’re hitting the bunk now, Tup’ika,” Fives all but ordered.
“The debriefing –”
“I’ll make up some excuse or another,” Fives reasoned. “You need to sleep – now. I’ll handle the rest.”
Tup wanted to argue more, but in the end, his head was pounding, and he was tired. So instead, he nodded wearily, smiling softly when Fives pulled him into a hug before moving about to gather his kit, gearing up quickly.
When Tup made no move to follow him, Fives nodded shortly – seemingly taking Tup’s inaction as an indication that the younger trooper would bunk up – before slipping out of their shared bunkroom. After he left, Tup merely shed the bits of his kit he hadn’t bothered to remove before toppling into his bunk.
He barely had time to worry about the nightmares before his consciousness faded.
~~~
Fives didn’t like letting Tup out of his sight – especially not when he was clearly hurting.
Tup had thought that Fives wasn’t watching, so he’d not been overly careful about hiding his winces and grimaces as they’d disembarked the LAAT/i that had carried them back to the Resolute.
In truth, the ARC trooper had been watching Tup like a shriek-hawk since his first wince aboard that LAAT/i. He’d let Tup think that he’d let the matter drop when the younger trooper had leaned more firmly into his side. Had let his vod’ika think that he was satisfied with the knowledge that even if he wouldn’t outright tell him what was wrong, Fives could at least keep him close.
But Fives had been watching.
So he knew that Tup was hurting – likely more than he’d let on, given the fact that Fives hoped he’d at least tried not to wince and flinch at every small sound. The ARC trooper liked to think the 501st was raising their vod’ika to be a better soldier than that.
Rancor would have their heads, elsewise.
“Cuyir an jate?” Rex asked gently, the Captain’s voice crackling through a private channel to draw Fives out of his reverie and back into the moment. Thankfully, no one else present at the debriefing seemed to have noticed his loss of focus, the jetiise too intent on detailing their upcoming assignment.
“‘Lek,” Fives responded just as softly.
Thankfully, Rex didn’t press him, and instead simply turned his full attention back to the jetiise and Admiral Yularen.
The rest of the debriefing passed in a blur, Fives struggling to focus on much of anything besides worrying about Tup. He’d have to actually read the meeting minutes later, before they deployed, which was a depressing thought. Fives hated reading.
Maybe he could get Tup to read the minutes for him, and just summarize the important stuff.
Assuming his vod’ika was feeling well enough to read, which currently seemed unlikely given what Fives knew about headaches and the bright light emitted by their datapads.
“Fives, I don’t know what’s going on, but you may as well just go check on Tup now,” Rex ordered, voice once again crackling through a private channel between their helmets. “I’ll wrap up here and make up some excuse or another.”
“Vor entye,” Fives acknowledged before slipping away, fighting against the way his mind was practically screaming at him to run so that he could see with his own eyes that Tup was okay. As it was, the brisk pace he adopted once off the bridge was barely slower than an outright run, leaving vod’e to scramble out of the ARC trooper’s way as he breezed by, undeterred.
Fives barely paused long enough for the door to their shared bunkroom to whizz open, the familiar sound of durasteel again durasteel doing little to calm his pounding heart, fear gripping his throat until he saw Tup.
His vod’ika was curled up on his bunk in his blacks, the sheets tangled around his body indicate a restless sleep. Tup’s brow was furrowed slightly, as it usually was, but it was the soft little huffs he let out with each breath that finally calmed Fives’ nerves.
He was okay.
Fives padded about the room as quietly as he could manage, silently shedding his kit and digging out his datapad before slipping into his own bunk. Rex had already sent him the meeting minutes – wonderful – which meant that he could get up to speed while also keeping an eye on Tup.
Tup, who remained asleep – despite the restless nature of that sleep – as Fives scrolled through page after page of battle plans and timelines. The ARC trooper looked up from time to time, cocking his head as if it would somehow help him decipher the younger trooper’s incoherent sleepy mumbles.
Fives dropped the datapad altogether when Tup’s mumbles suddenly shifted into shrieks, his restless shifting into outright thrashing.
Fives practically threw himself across the room, reaching out to comfort his vod’ika desperately. It wasn’t uncommon for Tup to have nightmares, but they had gotten better since Kamino and Vau, since Umbara and Coruscant and Wooley and Comet, and…
Tup screamed.
“Tup!” Fives yelled, suddenly terrified.
“Good soldiers follow orders,” Tup yelled desperately as he scrambled wildly at Fives’ arms, still unseeing. Still trapped in a nightmare.
“Tup’ika, this is not the time to freeze up - ve'ganir laam!”
“Kill the Jedi!”