Work Text:
"Do you believe in ghosts?"
CT-22-1439 glanced over at one of the only two others quarantined with him. CT-6632 also hadn't chosen a name, and was probably the one who had spoken. He was wringing his hands, pacing back and forth even as his eyes split between staring down CT-22-1439 and the other in there with them, Deter.
Deter lifted his head from where he was trying to lay one his cot, coughing. "What are you talking about?"
CT-6632 continued pacing, moving his hands around as he spoke. "It's weird, isn't it? They never speak, they just come in and do tests but nothing happens! And nearly everyone wears the same armor, so how would we know? Are they the ones still out there, or are they the dead who were here bef-"
"Whoa-" Deter said, coughing louder as he pushed himself up. Despite how he was the worst off of the three of them, his eyes were clear and intense. "Three-Two what are you talking about?"
"The ghosts which come in here!"
"The...? Our siblings?"
"Yes yes, but-"
"Three-Two they aren't dead."
"That you know of!"
CT-22-1439 rolled the idea around in his head. He didn't really think they were being treated and watched by ghosts. How would ghosts even pick up the equipment, or touch any of them? Wincing around the headache he had, he waved a hand to get their attention and offered, "They're physical."
"Right, see?" Deter rasped. "They're fine. We're the ones who caught whatever this disease is. They're just... trying to help."
"If they could help, if they were our living brothers, they would have done it by now," CT-6632 said, continuing to pace. Whether he was affected by the same energy sapping symptoms as CT-22-1439 or Deter was impossible to tell; He seemed to have boundless nervous energy.
"Finding cures takes time."
"It's been months. There is no cure."
Deter opened his mouth, paused, and said weakly, "That- that can't be right. It's been a couple weeks but..."
His pleading gaze turned to CT-22-1439, but he was doing some of the math in his own head. It was difficult to tell when they were in a room with no windows, didn't have their comms with the time, and slept so much thanks to both the illness and the drugs they were given that telling time was almost an exercise in futility. Almost.
"Three-Two... might be right," CT-22-1439 offered.
"That long, and no progress, and all the rest of the Guard out having to patrol still? To deal with whatever is going on on the rest of this kriffing city-planet?" CT-6632 shook his head, then sagged, his longer hair flopping down over his forehead. "What if everyone else who caught it didn't make it?"
CT-22-1439's heart twisted and his stomach dropped. Another round of coughing came from Deter after he sucked in a gasp in horror.
"You mean... what if there are no other survivors?" CT-22-1439 offered, hesitant.
"Don't encourage that," Deter snapped through his rough voice, coughing a few more times. "The medics would tell us if something was that serious."
CT-6632 didn't look convinced; CT-22-1439 didn't feel it either. Everyone in the CG knew the value of keeping information quiet, more so than all of the GAR. It was the reason the three of them had been quarantined so fast. Aside from keeping it from spreading--maybe, hopefully--the medics had hoped to keep them from being sent to Kamino for decommissioning. Deter seemed to catch on to their mood, and he scowled at them both.
"Fine. Assuming there were others who caught it, that there's some truth to that idea, what can we do about it?"
CT-22-1439 waited, but Deter seemed to want an actual response. "Um. Talk to whoever shows up next?"
"Right. We can see what they have to say about it." Deter nodded and looked over to CT-6632. "We don't know what it's like out there, but we have to be honest with them here. Tell them what you've been thinking."
CT-6632 shook his head. "What if-?" He stopped.
"'What if isn't real. You have to confirm.' Remember?"
Eventually, CT-6632 nodded and sat down on his own bed, limbs shaking subtly. Deter nodded back, then coughed, deep and wet. He laid back down, hand still over his mouth. Shakily, he muttered, "Get some rest."
With his eyes closed, all CT-22-1439 could think about was that shade of Corrie red peeking through the gaps of Deter's fingers.