Work Text:
"Fixer?" Scorch called into the darkness. Even with the filters on his helmet, there were too many shadows for him to see clearly. "Hey Fixy, you in here?"
He scanned the room, looking for any sign of his missing brother. Their intelligence reports had suggested that damn bounty hunter had been holding him here, but so far-
"We're… in the field, Six… Two."
Scorch spun around, nearly crying in relief at the sight of his brother, leaning heavily against the doorframe. His hair was matted, his glasses were gone, his undersuit was torn and his armour was nowhere to be seen, but he was definitely alive.
"You look like osik."
Fixer grimaced, his grip on the doorframe tightening. "You should. Tell Lead."
"Probably," Scorch agreed, moving to catch his brother as he teetered unsteadily on his feet. "But I'm sure he'll figure it out soon enough."
"Hm," Fixer hummed, his gaze unfocused as he stared into Scorch's visor. "'ts not prot'col."
"Tell you what," Scorch said, guiding his brother down into a seated position on the cell floor, "you give me siterep and then I'll call Boss and tell him what's up."
Fixer narrowed his eyes, his throat working as he tried and failed to come up with something to say.
"It's either that or I'm going to have to do first aid," Scorch said, typing out a quick message on his comm, "and we both know you don't want that."
"Drugged me out of my fuckin' eyeballs ," Fixer said, his words slurring together and he slowly listed sideways. "Can't see osik."
"That isn't exactly a new problem for you, though, is it?" Scorch replied, looking for any sort of injury beyond the obvious.
"this is. Different fuzzy, di'kut. More double."
"That was about the least helpful thing you could have told me, Fix," Scorch said with a sigh, "but all right. Anything else?"
"You can't fix it," Fixer went on, pressing an accusatory finger to Scorch's chest.
"Why not?" Scorch said lightly, reaching for the med-scanner out of his pack, "you don't have a monopoly on fixing things, you know."
Despite the wild unevenness of his pupils and the thin beads of sweat on his brow, Fixer still managed to shoot him a surprisingly coherent glare. "You dont h've the ant'dote."
"D'kut," he added smugly, just a few seconds too late.
"You already used that one, Fix," Scorch said with only a hint of forced cheerfulness. "I'm going to need you to come up with something better."
"You call Boss yet?"
"Got him on the line right now," Scorch said, flipping on his comm. "Anything you'd like to say to him?"
"Tell 'm 'm fine," Fixer said, despite the way his vitals implied otherwise. "Miss'n comes first."
"Tell him I'm watching his vitals from your feed," Boss said, "and that he's our top priority right now."
"Boss says you're a lying liar," Scorch said, earning him a snort of of amusement from Sev and a long sigh from Boss, "but we'll take you home anyway."
"Thats not wha' he said," Fixer said accusingly. "You're the lyin' liar."
"It was close enough," Sev said, appearing in the doorway behind them. "Got the point across."
Fixer stared at him for a moment, as if trying to work out who the newcomer was.
"yer not Boss," he said eventually. "Why arnt you Boss?"
"Too handsome," Sev said, "but I brought you something."
Scorch shot him a confused look, watching as his brother unsealed his buy'ce and plopped it on Fixer's head in one smooth motion.
"Y'r breath stinks," Fixer grumbled, but Scorch saw some of the tension leech out of his shoulders all the same. "Where'd you get this?"
"His head?" Scorch said, glancing between the two of them. "That's generally where one-"
"Downloaded it by accident while looking for holo torrents," Sev interrupted. "Old version, I think."
Fixer let out a soft grumbling noise that might have been a curse in huttese or a noise of gratitude, Scorch wasn't quite sure.
"What were you torrenting? One of those needlessly complicated drama shows?" Scorch asked, momentarily distracted by the concept of Sev watching holodramas.
"Great Gal'ctic Bake-off," Fixer answered before Sev could say anything. "He's on… the cake ep'sode I th'nk."
"How come you can coherently answer that but all you could come up with for sitrep was 'I'm drugged out of my fucking eyeballs'," Scorch asked.
"Can see the cakes 'n the c'rner."
"Do I really want to know what's going on here?" Boss asked, glancing around at each of them.
Scorch shrugged. "Fixer's using Sev's bucket to watch Cake Manager because he's drugged out of his eyeballs."
"Uh huh," Boss said, turning to Sev. "And you decided that was a good idea because..?"
"Had a copy of his HUD settings and thought he might like to see," Sev said, his ears turning slightly pink.
Boss let out a long sigh. "All right. Four-Oh, can you walk?"
Fixer nodded, pushing himself upright again. "Gimme knife. We gotta f'n'sh th' miss'n."
Boss looked as though he was going to protest, but Sev beat him to it, scooping Fixer up and cradling him in his arms. Fixer immediately responded with a string of unintelligible curses, but Sev was already headed for the door.
Boss considered them for a moment, then shrugged, gesturing for Scorch to fall into a protective formation opposite him. "Fall in Deltas. Let's get out of here."