OOM/IM: The Nightmare

[iprotectyou]

In darkness, cold.
In light, cold.
The old sun brings no heat.
But there is heat in breath and life... and death.
In all, there is the Force.
And the Force is eternal.

The night is still, and the two Jedhans are sleeping. The smaller Jedhan is splayed out on his stomach across his and the larger one's still-pushed-together beds, feet resting on Baze's shoulder. Chirrut has already stolen all the blankets, as is his nightly wont, and breathes deeply in repose.

Until a quiet noise--bordering on a sob--rouses him.

"Baze?" Chirrut murmurs, raising his groggy head.

"No," Baze mumbles in his sleep. He sucks in a great gasp, tossing and turning on the sheets. Chirrut can't see that Baze's knuckles are white from the force of his clenched fists, but the smaller man can feel the tension vibrating in the larger man's frame once Chirrut places a hand on Baze's chest. "Chirrut, come! No! No!"

"Baze!" Chirrut says, shaking him. "Wake up!"

And Baze Malbus wakes up screaming.

Comments

[idontneedluck]

"Baze!" Chirrut has to shout to be heard over the noise, his hands firm on Baze's shoulders. "Baze, it's alright, come back, I'm here! I'm here, wake up!"

[iprotectyou]

Baze screams himself hoarse, fighting his friend in a maddened, terrified state. The larger man thrashes, swinging his fists and kicking his feet.

Then he goes limp, tears leaking from his wide eyes, panting.

"Chirrut?" Baze croaks. He grasps his friend's bare shoulder, and crushes him against the larger man's chest. Sobs rack his frame, rough, keening cries that come from a ravaged heart.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut takes a few hits in the tussle, unwilling to move out of range or fight his clearly distressed friend.

And then he's being smushed. It does not take sensitivity in the Force to feel the depth of Baze's anguish, pouring out around him. Chirrut allows himself to be held, and keeps repeating himself, over and over. It's fine. They're safe. He's here.

[iprotectyou]

"Y-You weren't safe," Baze stammers eventually, his breath hitching twice as he tries to compose himself. Tears flood his flushed cheeks, and his voice is roughened by sorrow. "Oh, Force, I let you die!"

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut shifts, moving to sit up against the wall and tugging on Baze until he follows, so he can better hold his poor broken-hearted bantha.

"I seem to recall hearing that there is very little you 'let' me do, and quite a lot that I do without asking your permission or advice." He points out, tugging gently on Baze's hair.

[iprotectyou]

Baze gasps repeatedly, unable to get enough air. He tries breathing through his blocked nose, and ends up sniffling--which soon turns into broken sobbing once again. Burying his face in Chirrut's shoulder, Baze wraps his arms around his friend's ribs.

"B-But you died," Baze insists, as it seems that's a sticking point for him. "And there wasn't anything I could do about it. I couldn't p-protect you. I failed. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Chirrut."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut runs his hands through Baze's hair, carefully pulling fingers away from braids, and gently untangling knots. He doesn't know what kicked this off, but he's determined to bring back Baze's peace.

"I forgive you. I forgive you, my heart. You kept me safe for so long, against unbelievable odds. We went to Scarif knowing we would most likely die."

[iprotectyou]

"I... I didn't have a purpose after I abandoned the kyber except to protect you," Baze says, drawing shaky breaths through his mouth.

His throat is scraped raw, and his voice is ragged. "I followed you, like I always do. I followed you into death, because I couldn't live without you."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut remembers this feeling, like something out of a nightmare, or a fever dream. His fingers find overstrained muscles and push, trying to relieve some of this desperate tension.

"No, you would have been fine. If there had been a way out, some last path to take, you would have taken it, and you would have been fine. You would have taught them our stories, and fixed their machinery while grumbling, the way you do. You would have made the galaxy right again. You are good at that."

Not for him. Please, Force, not for him.

[iprotectyou]

Baze teases Chirrut. Frequently. He teases him because Chirrut is illumination made flesh, and Baze doesn't want to see that brightness dimmed. He teases him because a furrowed brow never suited Chirrut; it's like the overlarge shrug, learned from feeling the expression on Baze so often. Baze hates that Chirrut worries. He hates it. Stay bright, Baze thinks frequently, stay bright and don't let me bring you low. I can carry us both, just let me, won't you?

And now, in the dark, when Chirrut holds Baze tightly and lets him cry his heart out, he brings his friend low once again. Baze didn't carry himself tonight, much less Chirrut--Baze needed held like a child, and reassured like one, too.

Baze had vowed to himself that he would never be a millstone around Chirrut's neck, never be too much for him to bear, never be a burden. He broke that vow tonight, and the thought weighs on his chest so much, breathing hurts. He keeps harming his friend. Even in heaven.

But he knows the words that will make things better between them, that will bring peace to the room, so spoiled by his broken sobbing.

"I am with the Force," Baze says quickly, the words forcing their way past his lips. "The Force is with me."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut spent years waiting and hoping to hear those words from Baze's lips.

Firmly he shakes Baze's shoulders to interrupt the unwilling litany.

"I forgive you, Baze Malbus, and you would have stood strong, a rock for others, if you had been able to leave Scarif. Are you hearing me?"

[iprotectyou]

"But... Chirrut," Baze says helplessly, afraid he'll drown in his uselessness. Taken by surprise, he allows himself to be shaken.

He looks away from his friend's opaque, unerring gaze. "Yes, I hear you," Baze says, clenching and unclenching his fists.

He hears. But he doesn't believe.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut snorts, a sound he learned from Master Sheotar when he'd try to pull some fresh prank.

"I forgive you. Baze, I forgive you, my rock, my guardian. The galaxy does not know what it lost that day, but I do. You would have gone on, and found me in time, in the Force. Do you hear me?" He reiterates, evidently deeply unsatisfied with the previous answer.

[iprotectyou]

Baze lowers his head, fresh, hot tears leaking from his eyes. It's a softer kind of sobbing, not the desperate keening that went on before, but a gentler, more cleansing cry.

"I hear you," Baze croaks, his voice hoarse and roughened by sorrow. "I hear you."

He sucks a breath in over his teeth, making his chest shudder. He can't quite look up yet, can't quite see Chirrut. Baze leans forward and presses his ear against Chirrut's sternum, seeking the strong heartbeat. When the larger Guardian finds it, he closes his eyes.

He's silent for a long while, collecting his thoughts. It's almost peaceful again. "I'm sorry," Baze says eventually, wincing as he breaks the silence, "for being a burden."

[idontneedluck]

What the everloving kriffing hell?

Chirrut doesn't know the answer to this question, so he says it out loud as well.

"What the everloving kriffing hell?" The question, perhaps, has a bit more emphasis said out loud, more deeply incredulous, like he knows, he knows Baze isn't crazy but at this moment he's strongly considering it.

[iprotectyou]

Baze immediately sits up, tweaking the muscles in his back with the rapid movement.

Baze's worry glitters in the dark, all sharp edges. He cuts himself on accident when turning it over and over in his head. So to have Chirrut react with anger to a sincere apology--which seems totally logical to Baze--surprises him. And galvanizes him, too.

He draws himself up, straightening his shoulders. "Did I stutter?"

[idontneedluck]

"I certainly hope you did! When have you ever been a burden to me? How could you even consider you were? What... what did I do to imply it?" Chirrut demands in rapid-fire fashion. "How did this thought get in your head in the first place?"

Who, exactly, does he have to beat into a pulp for even suggesting that Chirrut didn't need Baze by his side?

[iprotectyou]

Baze sets his teeth, trying to order his thoughts.

"You didn't imply it. I've come up with this myself," Baze snaps, shoving Chirrut--gently, but still shoving him. "I brought you low, crying like I did. You held me like a child."

He doesn't even touch on how he would have done the same for Chirrut, in a heartbeat, and not counted him as a burden at all. That's different.

[idontneedluck]

"Am I unworthy to share your burdens?" Chirrut asks, softly. He knows it's a low blow, but honestly, he needs to rattle Baze out of this bizarre train of thought. "Would you have been better served if I let you cry in the dark, without support, while I could have helped you?"

[iprotectyou]

Baze's breath hitches, and he nearly chokes on a renewed sob.

"You bastard," he growls, tempted to shake his friend, knock him around and rattle his brains as badly as Baze has been rattled. He clenches his fists on his old, aching knees, lowering his head and giving himself over to angry tears.

"Thank you for helping me," he mumbles, nearly biting his tongue on the words. "Should I have said that instead?"

[idontneedluck]

Well...

It's progress, he supposes. Not great progress, but progress all the same.

"Stop it, how can there be such a thing as owing, between us, after so long?" Chirrut demands, fiercely.

[iprotectyou]

"The Force is with me, and I am with the Force," Baze says quickly, before Chirrut can stop him. It's a prayer for strength, to help order his thoughts, to help him answer the question in a way Chirrut will accept.

Baze chews on the inside of his cheek, mulling over his words. "There isn't," he says, and it's the only rational conclusion he can come to.

Something inside of Baze breaks, but instead of crying again, he feels more at peace. It hurts, but it's the kind of slow burn that hurts after a good round of honest sparring, not a fight with his friend.

"I'm sorry, Chirrut. I shouldn't have--I'm sorry."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut reaches out, tentatively, his hand tracing along Baze's face - feeling tears, tension, the mark of scars. He resolves to pay more attention in the future. He isn't sure when Baze got himself so tied up, but it's unconscionable.

"I forgive you, my heart. I forgive you." He'll just have to go on repeating himself until Baze really believes it.

[iprotectyou]

Baze presses his hand against Chirrut's, cupping his own cheek with both their fingers. He leans into his friend's touch, closing his eyes and grunting.

"I believe you," Baze says. He doesn't joke, saying, 'I heard you the first time,' because Baze has never been very good at making light of situations like these, always needing reassurance over humor.

"Would you like to spar? I'm too keyed up to sleep."

[idontneedluck]

"Of course." Chirrut smiles, gently. "And I'll even carry you back inside when I've beaten you into the dirt."