The Importance of Health Insurance

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut sits on the stoop he tends to favor these days, his bowl in front of him. His position here keeps him out of the path of the main patrols, but here he can hear trouble before it comes (or find it before it can hurt more of those he considers under his protection). It's been a long few days - the colder snap of winter came sooner than usual, catching all of Jedha unprepared.

"May the Force of others be with you." He calls, keeping the words alive at least, hopefully giving some comfort to those walking by. "May the Force of others..."

He stops.

Stills.

The Force asks, and he obeys, as he always will. The coins go in his purse, that is tucked into his robes, and he scoops up his staff to venture forth. It doesn't take him long to find what has roused him from his place.

The children are terrified, and small, their young pleading voices countered by the harsh tones of troopers. Something about market thieves. Something about making an example.

Chirrut takes a breath, centers, and smashes his staff into the face of the nearest trooper before they can get around to carrying out their plan.

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[iprotectyou]

Baze closes his eyes, sighing deeply. He lays Chirrut back down in the bed, seeking the rag and finding it. Loathe to leave his friend, Baze cleans the sweat off of Chirrut's face and neck with the cloth, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Chirrut," Baze tries, his voice soft and hollow, "are you awake now?"

[idontneedluck]

There's a long moment of silence.

Then Chirrut stirs, sightless eyes cracking open. He groans, deep in his chest, and flops an arm that he feels is distinctly noodle-y over his face.

"Did you get the registration of the speeder that hit me?" He rasps, wondering vaguely how falling asleep can lead to him feeling so much worse.

[iprotectyou]

"You were babbling," Baze says, laying the rag across his forehead. "You had a fever. It broke, I think. Thank the Force."

His knees pop as he stands from the bed, heading into the bathroom to get a cup of water from the sink. He returns to Chirrut's side, picking up his hand to press the cup into it. "Can you sit up to drink?"

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut wonders, dazedly, if he's still dreaming, but cherishes that praise to the Force like a found diamond. He doesn't mention it though. He knows it will lead to a fight, and... he's so tired.

How can he be so tired? He was just sleeping.

"I'm not sure moving is... going to happen." He sighs after a moment. "I'm weak as a lothcat kitten."

[iprotectyou]

"All right, I'm going to lift you so that you can drink," Baze says, snaking an arm around Chirrut's shoulders. "If it hurts too much, let me know, and I'll lay you back down."

He counts to three and raises his friend, encouraging him to sip the water.

[idontneedluck]

Much to his embarrassment it takes two hands to hold the cup steady. The water is... it's the best water he's ever tasted. Considering he knows the state of their apartment's tap water, that's... not a good sign, he's sure.

It doesn't take him long to drain the glass, once he has the rhythm down.

Letting the cup sink back to the bed, he plucks irritably at Baze's armor, focusing on that instead of how betrayed he feels by his body.

"This, still? It muffles everything." He huffs.

[iprotectyou]

While he's lifting Chirrut, Baze flips the pillow over to the cool side. Then he carefully lays his friend back down.

"My armor protects me," Baze says, taking the cup and shuffling to the bathroom to refill it. "Maybe you should consider wearing some. You may not have been so hurt if you were."

He returns to Chirrut's side and hands him the cup of water, lifting him again so that he can drink it dry. "Still thirsty?"

[idontneedluck]

"Some." He agrees - it isn't the raging thirst he woke with, but the the water soothes his parched throat. Three-fourths of the way through, he finally lets the glass fall again.

"More tired." He sighs, a disgusted sound. "I was just asleep." It is the epitome of unfair.

He doesn't comment on the idea of armor, or his feelings about it. He doesn't comment on how he worries that another nap could make him feel even worse than he does. Instead he latches his fingers into Baze's flightsuit again, a helpful tether.

[iprotectyou]

Baze takes the cup and sets it on the floor. "You were half-awake," he says, settling his friend in the bed again. Baze locates the blanket across the room and covers Chirrut's body with it, thinking he might be cold due to all of the sweat chilling in the winter air. "Go back to sleep. You'll probably truly sleep this time, with the fever broken."

He settles himself on the floor again, pressing his armored back against the side of the bed. Baze pulls his knees up to his chest and pillows his arms on them, resting his head on his massive forearms.

[idontneedluck]

The weight of the blankets is comforting.

But there is something...

He settles into the pillow, listening to the sounds of Baze settling and NiJedha continuing to survive in occupation.

Something like horror, like loss...

Chirrut slips an arm free of the blankets and, after a moment of searching, tangles his fingers in Baze's hair.

Not for me.

Chirrut sighs in satisfaction, and stops fighting the urge to sleep.