Lust for Life

"It's nearly two in the morning, what are you doing up?"

"I'm pulling an all-nighter."

"I can't sleep."

"I'm having nightmares."

"Will you stay awake with me?"

"Why am I still awake?"

"I should've gone to bed by now, but..."

"I don't think I can sleep after that."

"It's past midnight, why are we still up?"

"Do you normally go this long without sleep?"

"God, I wish I could just pass out right about now."

"I'm an insomniac, this is just normal."

"I work best at night."

"It's that late already! But it feels so early..."

"Can we stay awake together?"

"Everything is prettier when everyone else is asleep."

"I like being the only person awake sometimes."

"Is it too late to go to bed, or should we wait for the morning?"

"I can't sleep - I've tried everything."

"Let's get you some sleeping pills."

"You should really get some rest."

"I don't want to fall asleep without you."

Pairing: Mereel Skirata x Sheres Fett Characters: Mereel Skirata, Sheres Warning: …obligatory cloneship warning? Genre: General Summary: Sheres attempts humor. Mereel is very willing to let him work on his ability to joke.  Notes: No set timeline except pre-O66. Kinda stream of consciousness for @izzyovercoffee 

In all honesty, Sheres was nervous that his ability to get his joke understood through text would fall flat. Humor was, after all, not quite something you could just study in a manual and then wham you’re a comedian. Sheres had however heard himself described as someone with a bone dry humor. He supposed that was correct, though he had no real comparison to anything. 

To: M. Skirata From: S. Fett Subject: New Mission Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find the box hidden underneath the tree on the outer wall of the Arca Barracks. Within the box will be further instructions. This message will auto-delete 30 seconds after opening.

Pairing: Sheres/Fi (not a focus) Characters:  Sheres, Fi Warning: gore text Genre: Action, gore  Summary: The aftermath of a fight that could have gone much better but also much worse. Notes: still no definite timeline~

There was one thing he knew above all others at that point in time. He couldn’t breathe. He tried, he really did. But nothing was getting into his lungs. Not out of impairment of the lungs themselves, but there was nothing to breathe in. He couldn’t breathe. 

Breathe, dammit. He gulped down nothingness. He was going to drown on nothingness. 

Just as he was about to fall unconscious, oxygen flooded his helmet. He did his best not to pant, tried to control his breathing now that he had something to breathe. Everything in him screamed to pant like an akk dog, but he fought that feeling. He had to.

“What the shab do you think you’re doing? I don’t recall giving you permission to suffocate to death,” a voice with the same clip of his own flooded his helmet just as the oxygen did. He worked his mouth, trying to reply (even a lame rebuttal of how he outranked Fi), but all he could do was wheeze and try to get more oxygen into his lungs. He weakly batted away the hand that dropped to his shoulder when he tried to sit up. He gave up quickly enough and just lied there a bit longer. How was he alive? 

“You’ll be laid up for a while, but you’ll live. Your left leg is nearly snapped in two, and I can tell from your wheezing you’ve got some lung damage.”

Sheres barely heard any of the diagnosis. He was breathing, against all odds. He had never thought about dying from lack of oxygen. From a blaster rifle, yes. But no air? Had never occurred to him. 

“Why–” he began. 

“I was closest,” the answer came before he could formulate any of the rest of his question. 

If Fi was here, it meant someone inside the very small group of people who knew he was even still alive had triggered the rescue op. Probably Hyran, who was doing overwatch. He wanted to say something about how Fi shouldn’t be there, but he was still barely getting oxygen to his brain. 

Belatedly he noticed there was still pressure against his shoulder, though it was barely there. He sat up despite the frown he could feel Fi giving him through his own helmet. 

“How did you–”

“Know where you are? Alphas have chips, too, di’kut.” 

Sheres knew he had one in his armor, but the one actually under his skin was gone. No one had noticed. 

“I know better than anyone how bad medical care is in the Republic–”

It was Sheres’s turn to interrupt “–So do I. A while back… I don’t plan on recuping in some Pub hospital or back on Kamino.” The last thing he needed was to have Alpha 17 find out. 

“Good! You can join me back on Mandalore.”

“Hopefully I’m not too bad of a house guest.”

He tentatively struggled to sit up a bit more. He knew he wasn’t going anywhere by himself on a busted leg. Fi was already on his own perfectly working feet and was soon reaching down to pull Sheres up, taking on most of his weight even though Sheres outweighed him by at least twenty-five pounds (all of it pure muscle). 

His suit had automatically clamped off the injured area, keeping a seal on that would prevent infection and oxygen leaks. Together, they walk-hobbled their way to the small transport ship that Fi had arrived in. Sheres half-expected his favored pilot to greet them but it seemed Fi had piloted the ship himself. He didn’t mind, there were better things for clone pilots to be doing than saving an Alpha from his own stupidity.

Fi set Sheres down into the passenger seat and left him to his own devices to strap in.

“So, wanna explain what happened?” Fi asked, not unlike how Jango had asked when Sheres had failed a simulation (the very few times he had done so).

“I was too shab’la slow. Took out the target but they dead man switch’d me with a grenade.” 

The force of the explosion had splintered his leg. Fi looked down a second and noticed the other leg was charred. He knew then that Sheres had been running and his right leg had been ahead of the left, otherwise both would have been broken. 

Pairing: N/A Characters: Sheres, Hyran, Cyclo, Nas Warning: gore Genre: Action Summary: One of the missions for T’ad Squad, with the after action interactions to go along with it. Notes: Only a month or so after the Defense of Kamino.

“We could always call in a fire for effect,” Nas said after he had slid back down the small hill overlooking their objective. An objective that normally would have been attacked by a company of troopers, instead of four Alpha ARCs. 

Cyclo shook his head at his younger brother. It would have caused an endless barrage of ridicule later, and he wasn’t willing to risk that kind of thing after they had already missed a good amount of the war. 

Sheres was about a kilometer away with Hyran, but they of course could hear what Cyclo and Nas were talking about over their private comms. Sheres had been watching a specific man who was doing his best to pretend he wasn’t in charge. In most cases, Sheres would have needed to ask his captain for permission to open fire. But this mission he had been told to use his best judgment. For the past standard day he had been watching and waiting, learning the man’s schedule. He still did not want to fire without talking it over with everyone, though.

Pairing: Fi Skirata x Sheres Fett Characters: Fi Skirata, Sheres Warning: …obligatory cloneship warning? Genre: General/Romance Summary:  A day in the life, stream of consciousness. Notes: still no definite timeline~ 

Sometimes, Sheres could easily pick out the differences in training between Skirata’s commandos and Jango’s. He only had to watch how Fi carried himself, even accounting for the change in gait from his injuries. The little tics that could not be found on a Jango-trained ARC, unless they were to be in close quarters with a Skirata-trained one.

Other times, it wasn’t so simple. Though generally through the sheer fact that there were only so many ways to speak, walk, sit. 

Sheres was stretched out, his head using Fi’s thigh as a pillow. Fi was checking over his kit, his helmet still sporting the symbol that marked him as a head injury victim. He picked up the kama he had received from Alpha 30, making Sheres’s brows rise.

“I’ve thought about repainting this,” Fi said, conversationally. Sheres shifted a little, not sure if Fi was looking for his opinion or, more likely, permission. After all, it had belonged to Sull, one of Sheres’s fellow Alphas.

Sheres frowned as he tried to think of what to say. After all, it had not belonged to him and still did not. Sull had given it up of his own free will. Whatever Fi wanted to do would likely be fine with Sull. So, Sheres had no say whatsoever in it.

“Whatever you want to do. I wouldn’t paint it too much, though, it’ll look tacky.”

Fi grinned then laughed before nodding and setting the belt spat aside. He knew not only that, but it would make the leather less malleable. Nothing was nice about a superbly stiff kama.

Sheres reached a hand up, brushing his palm along the growth of facial hair on the man’s jaw, enjoying the prickly, raspy quality to it. Sheres only let his facial hair grow out when he was on a long mission and couldn’t waste time keeping trim. He imagined that Fi felt little need to shave often, being ‘retired’ from the service. 

Quietly, the Alpha pulled himself up through back muscles alone before replacing his hand with a kiss to Fi’s jaw. A firm hand steadied the Alpha as the younger commando returned the kiss to Sheres’s mouth full on. The older rolled over then sat up fully.

“What color exactly?” Sheres asked, grabbing the kama and brushing his hands along the well used leather. 

“Same as Hokan’s beskar’gam,” Fi said with a shrug. An obvious choice, Sheres had to admit. 

“Makes sense. Though it’ll be weird seeing Sull’s kama no longer white.” 

“Where is your kama anyways?”

A breath of laughter before he handed the kama back to Fi.

“In the barracks, in my locker. I found in training that wearing one made it harder to get to my firing point without giving away my position somehow.” It was a well-rehearsed, often used, explanation. And not a lie. Just because it was an ‘honor’ bestowed on an ARC didn’t mean he had to wear it or felt he should. “It drove Bu– Jango up the wall. He always said that it was part of the full besbe whether I liked it or not.” It probably sounded harsher in the recount than it had actually been. Sheres’s overall speaking voice changed to mimic that of Jango’s: “No ramikad of mine should find themselves missing a part of their besbe.” Fi almost laughed but swallowed it at the last moment, though a smile was on his face regardless.

“It’s amazing you graduated at all, thumbing your nose at the progenitor like that,” Fi said instead of laughing. Sheres simply grinned. 

“When I did graduate, he actually pulled me aside and said that I was right about no one caring about whether you’re wearing your kama or not when you’re in the thick of it. But he still had regs for us.” 

All too soon, his mind drifted. It isn’t over. None of it is over. He is still in the thick of it. He had promised when the war ended, then he would wear the kama he deserved as an ARC. It had mostly been a joking promise, but one none the less. Desperate to keep his mind from diving further into darkness, he kissed Fi again before getting to his feet. He crossed the small room to the equally small conservator. He pulled out the cake he had placed in there when he had arrived. A sign of how much time had passed. Especially given he used an ingredient for it that he was allergic to, which meant they were parting ways. 

“Already?” Fi said, on the verge of a pout, though he took the box from Sheres anyways. 

“For today,” Sheres said. A routine, annoyingly constant yet also reassuring. Even the pauses as Fi searched for the words he had just on the tip of his tongue were routine, but never annoyingly so. It would have been hard enough remastering one language, but the half dozen or so that Fi knew beyond a mere conversational level (and perhaps a dozen more of bits and pieces) was a gargantuan undertaking.

“Some of us have to pick up the slack left by others,” they said at the same time, another teasing joke that would get you clocked in the jaw if you weren’t in on it.