Chapter Text
Fox dismisses the two brothers on guard duty once he enters the safehouse. They’re noticeably hesitant to leave him on his own, but none of Fox’s commanders had managed to convince him to take someone with him when he left the compound. The two troopers in front of him aren’t going to be any more successful.
Hound did insist on Fox at least taking a massiff again – for backup, he had said. Fox had agreed… if he could take Spike.
Hound had wrinkled his nose – he’s aware of the game Fox is playing, bringing the massiff with no handler to the trooper Fox has chosen to fill the empty spot in Razorfang – but Spike’s need for the outing had won out over Hound’s dislike of Fives.
The man himself snaps to attention as he comes out of the bedroom and into the common area, spotting Fox. But the moment Fox waves off Fives’ salute and tells him “at ease”, the ARC’s attention is taken up by the animal at Fox’s side, just as Fox had expected. Fives, to his credit, does not approach Spike, but his expression does soften and he lets out a quiet, “Hey there, big guy.”
Fox can’t help the tiny smile he feels creep onto his face as Spike’s entire bearing perks up in response, though the massiff is well-trained enough not to rush over to Fives immediately. Fox drops the massiff’s leash and gives him the release signal. “You can go say hello, Spike.”
The words give permission to Fives, as well, and he drops into a welcoming crouch, clicking his tongue. Fox watches contentedly as Fives lets the massiff sniff him, before carefully reaching out to find the spot on the neck that makes Spike's tail start its slow, satisfied wag.
“He likes you,” Fox observes.
Fives looks up at him, but doesn’t stand, instead adjusting his position to be kneeling on one knee so that he can keep giving the massiff attention without either of them having to work at it. “You said his name was Spike?” Fives asks, and Fox nods. “Because of the…”
“His spines have always laid a little haphazard,” Fox answers, picking up what Fives is reaching for. “Ever since he was a pup. You should have seen them back then, sticking up every which way.”
Fives chuckles. “I remember him, I think.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he blanches. “Uh, I mean…”
Fox grins. “Oh, I remember that night, Fives. So does Hound.” Fives grimaces at the reminder of the night he drunkenly broke into the Guard kennels to visit the new massiff pups. Hound had been furious when he had discovered the ARC trooper there. Fox had found it considerably more entertaining than the Sergeant had, though he hadn't let Fives entirely off the hook for it.
Now, Spike seems to sense Fives’ distress, and snuffles against his face in a way that is clearly meant to be helpful. Fox snorts. “Seems Spike might remember, too. Doesn’t seem like he holds it against you.”
At the realization that he isn’t about to get reprimanded, Fives seems to allow himself to relax, smiling back at Spike.
“Where’s Tup?” Fox asks, drawing himself back to the reason he’s here.
“Napping,” Fives replies, and now he does stand up, his face settling into something more serious. “Pulse said he’d be more tired than usual for a few days, but he also said Tup is recovering well.”
Fox already knows this from speaking to his CMO directly, but he nods in acknowledgment. “That’s good.” He quirks an eyebrow. “I heard you had an interesting discussion with Pulse.”
Fives doesn’t pretend to not understand what Fox is referring to. Apparently he had been in a bit of a state when Pulse had come to check on him and Tup, demanding that they couldn’t wait in the safehouse any longer. The CMO had talked Fives down, but Fox wants to be sure he isn’t planning to rush ahead on his own when it comes to the chips and the Chancellor. Fox really doesn’t want to know what Palpatine will do if he discovers the ARC is still alive.
“Don’t worry,” Fives says, correctly interpreting Fox’s tone and facial expression. “I’m not about to go rogue.”
Fox smirks. “You already have.”
“Point,” Fives concedes, tilting his head in a way that reminds Fox almost viscerally of Echo.
Echo, who is hopefully in the middle of being rescued as they speak. And Fives doesn’t even know his twin is still alive.
Fox almost says it.
He doesn't.
That moment belongs to Echo, and to him alone.
“I wouldn’t have gone rogue if it wasn’t the only way to save Tup,” Fives continues, pulling Fox’s thoughts back into the room. “If it hadn’t been the only option to save him… I’m not sure what I would have done. Tried to spread the word I guess. Probably been killed for it.”
Fox feels his heartbeat stutter at Fives’ remark. The ARC has no idea how close he is to the truth of what could have happened – what had happened, in another version of events. The version Fox remembers.
He swallows. “Well, you didn’t,” he says, “and you’re both alive. And you’re both here. You’ve got each other. That’s what matters.”
Fives smiles humorlessly. “Even if we had to pretend to die.”
Fox hums in acknowledgement. “Even then.” He scoffs lightly, adding, “What we do for our vod’ike.” His tone is rueful, and after he says it, he brushes past Fives, taking a few steps away. He feels a sudden urge to pace, though there isn’t much room to do so here.
“Hey.”
Fox turns back to Fives at the soft call.
"I'm not sure we did the right thing," Fives says, carefully. "But Rex will understand either way. We’re protecting him, like he always tries to protect us. That’s what vode do.”
Fox stares at Fives, letting the words sink in. The younger clone is right. About vode protecting each other, at least. He’s not sure if Fives is right about that other part.
He doesn’t want to keep thinking about it.
Still, he clasps Fives on the shoulder, wanting to give some acknowledgement of the kindness in those words. He squeezes once.
"Go wake Tup," he says quietly. "I’m taking you both back to the Guard barracks."
Fives looks at him for a second longer, like he’s still trying to read him, and then nods and walks back to the bedroom.
Fives holds Spike’s leash on the way back to the barracks.
He isn’t sure why Fox handed it to him – it’s not like Fives knows anything about massiffs or needs something to occupy him on the walk – but he isn’t complaining. He loves animals. And this one seems to like him back. Which doesn’t always happen – just ask…
Well, Echo could have told a few stories.
When they reach the Guard compound, Spike is taken back to the kennels by another trooper with a massiff already at his heels, and Fives has to resist the slightly irrational pull to follow them. He watches Spike go instead, and wonders how many of the animals there are on the base. He’s aware that there’s a squad of handlers, and that Sergeant Hound leads them, but that’s the extent of his knowledge.
But Fives also knows that this isn’t the time for a full-on briefing. They aren’t more than maybe ten steps into the building when Fox starts fielding questions and requests from troopers coming at him from every direction. He handles each of them with the calm efficiency Fives recognizes as a batch trait – he’s seen Rex, Cody, and Wolffe all respond similarly in chaotic base camps. Fox does flag down another trooper, though – a commander, going by the paint, not one Fives recognizes – and without a word exchanged between them, that one steps in and begins running interference so that Fox can continue leading Fives and Tup down the corridors.
As they get deeper into the building, things quiet. Fox removes his bucket, and Fives and Tup take that as a sign they are free to take theirs off as well. Fives notes the friendly nods Fox receives as they move through the hallways, and how the commander acknowledges every one. Fives and Tup receive nods, as well, but they are more wary. Despite the fact that both clones are wearing borrowed Guard armor, it’s clear the other troopers aren’t completely comfortable with them, though Fives can’t quite pinpoint why.
Eventually they reach the barracks. The Guard’s set up is quite different than what the clones have on the venators, Fives observes. Rather than rows of bunks set up in larger communal spaces, or the private ARC or officer quarters designated for one or two men, they wander through a maze of several corridors, all lined with multiple rooms meant to hold a few troopers each. Fox turns into an empty one and clicks on a light.
It’s small, but not much smaller than the quarters Fives shares with Jesse on the Ascendant. Two sets of bunks against the wall at right angles, a small table in the center, everything clean and bare. No personal effects anywhere that Fives can see. He looks at Fox. “Do we have roommates?”
Fox twitches slightly. “Not at the moment,” he answers after a beat. “That could change though, so if you have a preferred place to sleep, better claim it.”
Fives nods, ushering Tup in before him and then stepping fully into the room. Neither of them really have anything of their own, just some spare blacks they were provided with at the safehouse, and the armor they are currently wearing. Fives turns back to Fox. “Commander.”
Fox meets his eyes.
"I never thanked you."
The commander’s gaze immediately drops, finding the ground, but Fives isn’t having it. He takes a step forward, pulling Fox’s focus back to him.
"For finding us,” he says. "For finding a way to keep us safe. I don't… I'm not sure either of us would be breathing right now if it weren't for you. And Ahsoka and Pulse." He pauses. "But mostly you. So. Thank you."
Fox is quiet for a moment. Something moves through his expression that Fives doesn't quite have a name for – not embarrassment, exactly, but something adjacent to it. A discomfort with being shown gratitude.
"I'm just glad you're both okay," Fox says finally, and Fives can tell he means that.
Fives gives him a small smile. Then, because he can’t help it and he can see Tup sitting on the nearest bunk watching them with the patient attention of someone who has decided he's not going to interrupt but is taking careful notes, he adds, "How did you know, anyway? About the chips, the Chancellor. About what was happening to Tup and me?"
Fox's expression changes to something considering, and for a moment, Fives genuinely thinks he’s about to get a straight answer.
He should have known better. Rex had once said that his ori’vod came by his name honestly.
"That," Fox says, his tone carefully evasive, "is a very long story.” When Fives opens his mouth, whether to protest or complain – he isn’t even sure which – Fox holds up a hand. “One I'll tell you, eventually. Just… not right now."
"When?"
"When I can." He looks back at Fives steadily, then over at Tup. "I have work to get back to. Pulse's orders are for you both to rest for the remainder of the day. I'll be back in the morning with new assignments for both of you."
Fives huffs in frustration. “Commander – ”
"Save it, Fives,” Fox interrupts. Then, softer, “I know what you're about to ask."
"Do you." It’s not a question.
"We're waiting for Ahsoka to return," Fox says, and then cuts off Fives’ next question too. “She’s bringing in a POW that has information we can use. When they’re both here, we’ll make a plan. Together."
Fives looks at him. At this man who came to a mostly abandoned landing platform with a plan already made and a medic already waiting and a story he still hasn't fully told. Who looked at two clones that the Chancellor had decided were rogue elements to be disposed of, and disagreed. Who had put himself and his relationship with his batch on the line to keep Fives and Tup safe.
Fives can really only answer one way.
"Okay," he says.
At his acquiescence, Fox produces two comm links from his kit and holds them out. "These are for you. They’re already encoded. Mess is two levels up, left at the junction. Freshers are at the end of this corridor." He pauses as Tup comes closer and he and Fives each take one of the comms. "Pulse’s line is programmed in,” he adds, “along with the main line to the medbay. And… my personal line is, too. If you need anything."
Fox leaves then, before Fives can thank him again, which Fives suspects is intentional.
The door closes. Tup looks at Fives. Fives looks at the comm link in his hand, Fox's number already loaded, and then back at Tup, at a loss for words without really knowing why.
He suddenly misses Rex. And Jesse and Kix. Coric and Appo and even General Skywalker.
Tup grabs his shoulders and guides him to one of the bottom bunks.
"Rest," he says, with a tone that Fives swears he learned from Kix. "Pulse's orders."
Fives sighs. “And we don’t argue with the medic.”
Tup smirks, sitting down next to him, undoubtedly thinking of all the times each and every member of Torrent argued with Kix or Coric or one of the other medics, loudly and obnoxiously. “Especially the CMO,” he adds with a laugh.
The sound of it fills the small room around them. It's contagious. Fives finds himself relaxing before he means to, snickering in response.
As they quiet, Fives’ vod’ika looks at him with an earnest concern that is so very Tup. “We'll get him," Tup says. "We just need to be patient."
Fives leans back on his hands, staring at the bottom of the bunk above him.
"That's not my strong suit, vod'ika."
The silence that follows has a very mischievous quality.
"Oh," Tup says, with great solemnity. "I am well aware."
Fives shoves him. Tup, who has always had faster reflexes than anyone gives him credit for, gets a hand up in time to redirect the shove into something that nearly knocks Fives off the bunk entirely, which was not the intended outcome, and then they're both trying very hard not to laugh too loudly in a borrowed room in a building full of Guard troopers who do not yet know them.
And in that moment, all Fives can be is grateful. He’s alive. Tup is alive. They’re together. And Fox was right.
That’s what matters.