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ace-oreos · 3 years

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I love the way you write fordo and alpha! If you’re still doing asks could u do a one shot where Frodo is badly injured and Alpha saves his shebse? He’s pissed to all nine hells to mask how genuinely scared he is of losing him

AHHH thank you! That means so much! <3 I really love their chaotic dumb siblings who actually care about each other underneath the snark dynamic; it’s a blast to write them every time.

I’m starting to think I just might be able to write hurt/comfort instead of straight up angst. Who knew?? XD

The comm call Alpha has come to expect and dreads nonetheless comes not long after he returns to base thinking it’d be best for everyone if the Republic just pulled out of this one. The planet’s a mess, caught in the ugly crossfire of a back and forth we-want-what-you’ve-got that’s characterized the Republic’s mindset lately. It’s no way to run an army, but no one ever thinks to ask Alpha’s opinion anyway.

The message - passed on in harried, strained tones by one of Fordo’s subordinates - leaves an ache in his throat and his pulse hammering a restless, frantic rhythm. We don’t know how it happened. Everything was moving so fast…

In another world, the comlink slips from numb fingers and feelings he can’t begin to describe fill the subsequent silence, leave him choking and drowning -

But he can’t afford to fall apart.

Alpha reverts to the basics. Armor plates attached to the bodysuit, helmet snapped into place, comms up and running. Run a cursory check of his armor’s systems, ensure his weapons are fully operational. He’s not leaving anything to chance; Fordo’s men aren’t entirely confident the area is secure.

It doesn’t take him long to find the site of the ambush. They’ve been wary of this pass from day one - horribly exposed and overlooked by steep slopes, they’re confined to the one fixed route that dissects the mountain range. With little to offer by way of cover, the half-kilometer between the base and the valley has become a hotspot for enemy contact.

After five weeks on the ground, Fordo knows the dangers as well as he does. And look where it got you. You shabuir, you told me you would go careful and yet you throw yourself into the line of fire the first chance you get.

And isn’t it just like Fordo to take a hit to spare a brother without a second thought. So Alpha can’t be - shouldn’t be - selfish. Shouldn’t feel as though Fordo has betrayed him somehow.

“Captain.” Fordo’s second offers a weary salute.

The last thing Alpha wants is to be captain right now, but for his brothers’ sake he does his best to keep his fear and everything that accompanies it under wraps. Then Fordo’s voice reaches him, and that carefully constructed veneer nearly buckles.

“You’re overreacting, Seventeen.” Fordo is propped against a rock while the squad’s medic works. Blood oozes sluggishly between the armor plates on his torso, and his face is a mess of blood and dirt, but he’s alive. “Riding to the rescue isn’t your style.”

“I just couldn’t say away,” Alpha says sardonically, fighting the urge to assess Fordo’s wounds for himself. Their medic is perfectly competent and would likely operate more efficiently without an ARC breathing down his neck.

“Lucky you didn’t get your head blown off, running into a combat zone like that.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be lecturing me,” Alpha shoots back before he can catch himself.

“I told you.” Fordo directs this at his second. “This is exactly why he wasn’t supposed to know.”

The man’s expression is studiously blank. “Whatever you say, sir.”

“I told him you’d only fuss,” Fordo continues, then breaks off with a grimace. “Then again, maybe you had reason to, yeah?”

“Di’kut,” Alpha says, even though there are a number of other things he’d be more than happy to say right now. Reckless and foolhardy and just about everything else Alpha himself has been branded by none other than General Kenobi.

Fordo’s second interrupts. “Unless we’re looking to be a welcoming party for the next Separatist patrol, it’s time to get moving.”

___________________________

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Keep your voice down,” Fordo says amicably. “Acting all huffy won’t do you any favors.”

“Won’t - you nearly died, you shabuir - ”

“Well, you’re in luck, ‘cos I’m not dead just yet.”

“I’m not sure that counts as lucky,” Alpha snaps. It’s only a matter of time. I thought I would be able to handle it. Now I’m starting to wonder...

“I’m touched, Seventeen. Really.”

“Osik, you’re a pain.”

Fordo flashes a crooked grin. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

This is why I tried to push you away. “Keep dreaming.”

“Well, with an attitude like that, I guess I’ll just have to watch my own back, then.”

“And then what?” Alpha demands. It comes out more harshly than he intends, and he feels a faint twinge of regret when Fordo looks taken aback. It’s soon swallowed by something bigger, something looming and tumultuous and painful in a way that makes his chest tighten and his hands clench. “Whatever’s left of you is left to rot on some hellhole, and screw the galaxy?”

Fordo’s composed weathering of Alpha’s temper is giving way to anger. “The galaxy has screwed us over from day one. If the most I can hope for is that my death serves a purpose somehow, then so be it. I can’t take issue with that.”

“I’m sure the shabuire sitting fat and happy in the Senate will be glad to know their osik got in our heads,” Alpha snarls.

“What happened to serving the Republic? Getting cold feet, Seventeen?” There’s awful sarcasm in Fordo’s voice, but there’s still truth in his words, and it stings in a way Alpha isn’t prepared for.

“You know I would choose our vode over the Republic any day.”

“That’s rich coming from you. So you’ve had a change of heart since Kamino - ”

Alpha is on his feet now, blood boiling. “We had orders. I wasn’t going to throw it all away.”

“Jango’s man to the last,” Fordo spits out, all acid.

“You were dead for all I knew!”

A range of emotions play across Fordo’s face. Alpha looks away, grappling with nauseating shame and a sort of blind fear he’s never experienced in such an abject way.

His brother’s voice is soft when he finally says, “Sev.”

He can’t shake the sense that he’s failed somehow. Failed his father, failed his brothers, failed everything he’s ever fought for -

“Alpha,” Fordo tries again. His hand finds Alpha’s, holds on tight. Alpha can’t bring himself to pull away. “It’s okay, ner vod. I didn’t realize… ”

“You really thought I didn’t care?” Alpha asks softly. I tried not to. I thought it would be better for everyone that way.

“I never can tell just what’s going through your head.” Fordo pauses. “But I think I knew. In your own way, of course.”

Alpha swallows his pride and starts, “Look, I’m sorry if - ”

“Don’t,” Fordo interrupts. His voice softens. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

He offers a small smile, and the knot in Alpha’s chest begins to unwind. He manages to return a halfhearted smile of his own. He’s navigating unfamiliar territory - and he’ll have to confront it again someday - but for now… well, he prefers to focus on what’s in front of him.

Fordo squeezes his hand and lets go. “Okay, alor’ad?”

Alpha can’t help rolling his eyes. “I’m starting to think you should’ve been assigned to Kenobi. You’re awfully dramatic.”

“Denial isn’t a good look on you, ner vod.”

“Oh, come off it,” Alpha huffs. “You and Kenobi could have your own holodrama.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You just don’t want to admit I’m right.”

In the end, neither of them are willing to admit defeat, but Alpha leaves the med tent undeniably smug for the truce he managed to negotiate.

#alpha-17 #alpha 17 #alpha-77 #captain fordo #the clone wars #star wars #fic prompt #thanks for the prompt!#this was fun #as always my askbox is open

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