OOM: The Job

[iprotectyou]

The job pays well, at least. That's the only good thing about it.

The intel Baze was given was shaky at best, and while his target goes down without a fight, the Selkath bodyguard she employed is a surprise. An aquatic species resembling a catfish with aqua-colored skin, the Selkath fights viciously, tackling Baze from above and mauling his arm with venom-tipped claws.

Baze bellows, swinging his repeater cannon up and around to fire upon the creature. He pumps blaster bolts into him, stumbling away when the Selkath disengages. Baze didn't expect the claws. To a Selkath, use of their retractable claws is dishonorable, a sign of madness. Baze's arm burns, and he grits his teeth against the pain. He knows he has to find an antidote, and fast.

He staggers back home, back to Chirrut.

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[iprotectyou]

Baze sleeps fitfully, tossing and turning in a bed too small for his frame. His sleep is just deep enough to suffer nightmares, and when he sees the Selkath crash down upon him, claws biting into his flesh--

"Chirrut!" Baze cries. He sits up straight in bed, clutching his heart and panting, his eyes wild. It takes him a few moments to realize where he is, and to remember that he's safe, and not poisoned anymore.

He spots his friend in their tiny kitchen, and relaxes a fraction. Baze's arm is on fire, tight bands of it digging into his forearm, and that's a sufficient distraction from sleeping.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut turns at the noise, spoon in one hand.

"Baze? Baze, lie back down, I still need to tape your ribs. I'll be right there." He's managed to find some dried fruit, so he mixes that in with the vain hope it might make the whole more palatable. Munching on the last handful, he spoons up a bowl for Baze and heads over.

"How do you feel?" He doesn't bother hiding the worry in his voice, worry is a given at this point.

[iprotectyou]

Baze struggles into a lying position again just as Chirrut comes over with the bowl. The larger man sighs, forcing himself up to lean on the wall.

"Like bantha poodu," Baze says, drumming up a smile for his friend from Force knows where. "I can't lie down--I have to sit up to eat. You can tape up my ribs after that."

He takes the bowl of porridge and starts wolfing it down, but soon stops. Baze gives his friend a searching look. "Chirrut Imwe, where is your bowl?"

[idontneedluck]

"I'll eat later, I need to strap your ribs first." Chirrut dismisses with a vague wave of his hand. "You'll be in trouble if one of those cracks moves on to a full break, which it might. I wasn't being gentle." When he hands off the bowl he then heads over to where they keep their supplies, searching for the tape.

[iprotectyou]

"You'd better," Baze grumbles, and returns to scarfing down the porridge. The fight for his life burned a lot of energy, and he's veritably starving. Even though the porridge is blander than bland, it's still food. His spoon clinks against the empty bowl, and he sets it down on his belly, disappointed that it's empty.

Curling his toes, he watches Chirrut putter about the room and mess around with their supplies. "I don't blame you, you know. For cracking them. You did what you had to do."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut freezes.

He stands, tape and padding held loosely in his hand, his head bowed as he breathes. Under his breath, he clings to one of the old chants, the stress and pain of the day threatening to undo him. If he thinks about it too hard, he can feel the crack of bone under his hands again.

"I know."

[iprotectyou]

Baze watches him for a few moments. Then the larger man hauls himself out of bed--slowly, ever so painfully slow--and pads over to his smaller friend. He loops his arms around Chirrut's thin shoulders--so strong, so proud, so bent with grief and sorrow and anger--and leans on him, heavily.

Words won't work here, Baze knows. Much as he'd like to, he can't simply tell Chirrut that he's all right, that they're safe now. That despite the pain Baze is in, he's glad to be alive and glad Chirrut is with him and just generally glad--happy, even. He sniffles, tears welling in his eyes, and he tries to blink them away.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut is shaking.

He almost lost his best friend in the galaxy. He thought he had, for a moment. For too many moments. He was almost certain that he'd only managed to get back in time to be there when Baze left.

And to top it off he hurt Baze, something he hasn't done in years, and never outside of actual sparring. It was necessary, he knows it was necessary...

"You bantha. You're going to stress your ribs."

[iprotectyou]

Baze squeezes him tighter in response. Yes, the larger man's ribs hurt like burning, especially when he inhales, but he's not about to let the smaller one go. Tears roll down Baze's cheeks and drip off his chin, soaking Chirrut's shoulder. His trembling makes Baze even more certain that embracing him is the best choice, despite the dizziness and pain it takes to do so.

"Shut up, Chirrut," Baze murmurs, his voice choked. "Just let me hold you."

And hold me back, he doesn't say.

[idontneedluck]

He doesn't have to. With his protest on record, Chirrut can't fight his need for comfort anymore. He can rationalize it any way he likes, but he's still leaning back against Baze, holding on with a fierce grip.

It might be a while before he's able to let go.

[iprotectyou]

That's just fine with Baze. There's a rush of air as Chirrut grips him, a quick exhale of surprise. He clings to his friend, smiling, tears slowing. Baze's ribs ache and his arm burns, but he pays his pain no mind--until it gets to be unbearable. Still, he stubbornly holds on to his small friend, offering all the comfort he can.

His hitch in breathing and the stiffness of his hold are the only outward signs of his injury, but they should be obvious to Chirrut, who can read him better than he can himself. Still, he holds on.

[idontneedluck]

Sooner than he'd really like, Chirrut finds he can only focus on Baze's pain. He sighs, a soft tired sound, and pulls away.

"Back to bed with you - you're not going to heal wandering about." He chides.

[iprotectyou]

Baze almost protests. He wasn't near done holding his friend. But Chirrut is right, and Baze knows it. Still doesn't make breaking away any easier. He staggers back to the bed, sitting down heavily on the creaky frame once he reaches it.

"Time to tape my ribs, I guess," Baze mumbles, exhaustion catching up with him again. With a full belly and a blanket, he could probably sleep, despite the fire arching up his arm.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut can practically taste Baze's need for comfort (and he'd be lying if he didn't need it as well). He pats Baze's shoulder when he's in reach, dumping his supplies beside Baze in an untidy heap.

Very carefully he maps out exactly which ribs are cracked (more than he likes, less than he feared), then sets about with the tape, ruthlessly binding his chest. When he's done Baze looks distinctly mummy-esque in parts, but the tape is neat and precise.

"Now. Lie down, and scoot over." He knows already he's not going to sleep if Baze is half a room away, so... he's not going to do that.

[iprotectyou]

This nets a laugh from Baze--both relieved and incredulous. "But Chirrut, the bed is tiny," he says, but it's only a token protest. He scoots over as far as the bed will allow, settling his bulk on his side, and opens his arms. "I'm ready for you."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut moves slowly, carefully, as he eases into the space left for him. The end result is a little awkward, and a little uncomfortable - the bed really is a little too small for two men.

Chirrut doesn't intend on budging. Not when he can hear Baze's heart beating loud and clear from here. He sighs, releasing some of the tension from his frame.

Better. This is better.

[iprotectyou]

Baze wraps his arms around his friend as best as he can, what with stiffness and bandages getting in the way. He tucks Chirrut against his taped-up chest, taking comfort in the smaller man's soft breathing. Baze closes his eyes, feeling his tight muscles loosen one by one, starting in his back and radiating outward.

He's almost asleep--so very, very close--when it hits him.

"Chirrut," Baze says, nudging his possibly sleeping friend awake. "You didn't eat anything."

[idontneedluck]

"I'll get it in the morning." Chirrut mumbles. He knows, now, that there will be a fight at some point. It's guaranteed. He meant to give himself the cover of 'eating' while Baze was asleep, but...

As the Force wills. He couldn't choose a different path, given the options.

"Go to sleep, bantha."

[iprotectyou]

Baze has two options. He can go back to sleep, like his friend instructs, or he can make a stink about it.

He chooses the latter.

"No," he says, all but shoving Chirrut out of bed. "You'll get it now. The market's still open. Don't make me get it myself. You know I will."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut yelps as he's half-dumped from the bed. He flails his limbs like a drunken starfish in a vain effort to keep from being unseated. Eventually he gives up, and settles on the floor instead.

"Baze, I... what if you..." He splutters in protest, unwilling to actually give his worries full voice.

[iprotectyou]

Baze sighs, and pushes himself into a sitting position with his good arm. He scrubs a hand through his long, dark hair. "I won't," he says firmly, nudging Chirrut in the shoulder with a toe. "I'm fine. You saw to that yourself. Trust me, Chirrut. Now go eat, or I'll go get food for you."

[idontneedluck]

The thing is, Chirrut knows Baze isn't lying. Even if he became Force-blind right now, he knows Baze isn't lying.

He scrubs at his face, trying to soothe anxious nerves. It doesn't really work.

"You'll be alright?" He asks, knowing full well that question had just been answered, wanting to hear it again.

[iprotectyou]

Baze scoots to the end of the bed, his legs dangling over the edge and his feet resting on the floor. He wraps his arms around Chirrut, tugging him close and smoothing a hand over his short-cropped hair. Cupping the back of his head, Baze rests his cheek on his friend's.

"I'll be fine," he says, his heart thudding against his taped-up ribs. He's sure Chirrut can feel it, as close as they are. "I won't sleep, knowing you're in the market"--throwing his own words back at him--"but you should go eat something."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut sighs, overly gusty in Baze's ear to register his displeasure at the whole scheme, and pulls away.

"I'll be back as fast as I can. Don't... do anything. Just don't. I'll be back soon." There should be a joke there, something about how if Baze died when he was gone he'd never let him live it down, or...

He can't joke. Not yet. His tone is earnest, and he hasn't actually made it any closer to the door.

[iprotectyou]

"You will," Baze says, gently disengaging and pushing him away. The larger man manages a smile for the smaller one, and hopes he hears it in his voice. "I trust you. You're a speedy monkey on the best of days; I suspect you'll be back sooner than I expect."

Baze nudges Chirrut's thin shoulder, intending to push him towards the door. "Off with you. The sooner you're back, the sooner we can get to sleep."