This is my first atempt at an actual story with chapters. For those of you who read "Cuddle Time", this is the same story, only extended. I've decided that I'm going to do a proper job by this, and that includes quotes and a meaningful title. Good quotes are a lot harder to find than you would think. I hope you are pleased with my efforts.

I do not own Star Wars.

The road is long

With many a winding turn

That leads us to who knows where

Who knows where

But I'm strong

Strong enough to carry him

He ain't heavy, he's my brother

-Bill Medley, He's My Brother

"He comforted us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble."

-2 Corinthians 1: 4

Soft night had descended on Coruscant. Life continued in an unceasing stream across the city planet, the endless cycle of beings living out their lives under the bright neon signs of Coruscant's night life. In Torrent Company barracks, however, silence and darkness prevailed. All the bunks were filled with slumbering clones grabbing what rest they could before their next deployment.

In bunk K36-B, CT-3291/1260, Oscar to his brothers, dozed lightly. His legion had just returned from a strenuous mission to Ord Mantel that afternoon. The engagement had not ended well, and Oscar was nursing some rather painful abdominal bruises. As a result, he was cranky and had had trouble falling asleep. His mind was just skirting the edges of longed for unconsciousness, when something tugged at his sheets with an almost shy, yet insistent rhythm, dragging him forcibly from his half slumber.

Growling softly under his breath, Oscar turned over and regarded the intruder with bleary, accusing eyes. It took him a second to recognize the person standing by his bunk. It was CT-007, Runt, the newest member of Torrent. He was three inches shorter than the average clone, with the smaller build to go with it.

A lot of the other clones in the company weren't sure how to react to the younger trooper; some even seemed weary of him. It was a lesson ingrained from the earliest days on Kamino: don't interact to closely with those that are different or "deficient," because they'll be reconditioned and so will you. But Oscar liked the younger clone, and he wasn't on Kamino anymore. He wasn't about to let the Kaminoans dictate his actions from thousands of light years away. So the kid was strange. He was a shiny, they were all a little strange.

Runt was grasping his left elbow with his right hand, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. The military issue sleep clothes that all clones wore were to big for him, the shirt slipping off one shoulder and the pants hanging loosely from his hips.

"Wa' do you want?" Oscar grumbled, blinking to clear his eyes.

Runt shifted uncomfortably, glancing around the room before finally returning his gaze to Oscar.

"I can't sleep," he said. His voice was so quite that Oscar had to strain to hear him over the sounds of the AC unit, the muffled thud of armored boots in the hall, the soft breathing and occasional snores from their sleeping brothers. Runt paused. "Can I sleep with you?"

It took a minute for Oscar's sleep blurred brain to make sense of what Runt had said. When it finally registered, he sat up sharply and glared at the younger clone. To be honest, he wasn't even sure why he was so upset at the idea. All he knew was that his instinct was telling him that it was wrong.

"What's wrong with you?" he hissed. Oscar was suddenly very grateful for the darkness that hid his embarrassed flush from view. "Can you sleep with me? No! No you can't! Where'd you get such a stupid idea?"

Runt's shoulders hunched slightly, as if he was seeking shelter from the other clone's words. "It's just…on Kamino-when we couldn't sleep-my brothers and I…we-"

"No. In case you haven't noticed, you're not on Kamino any more. I'm not one of your brothers. We don't share beds in the GAR, so if you can't sleep or you're scared or you had a nightmare, well suck it up and deal with it, because I couldn't care less!" All this was delivered in a fierce whisper, Oscar glaring daggers at the younger clone and even leaning forward slightly to make sure that he'd conveyed his point fully.

Runt's small body flinched back at his words. He blinked rapidly and ducked his head. Oscar still saw the bright glint of tears in his eyes before he mumbled something barely audible that sounded like "sorry for waking you" and ducked out of sight to his own bunk, K36-A, right beneath Oscar's.

Oscar flopped back down on his mattress and waited for sleep to come, but the only thing that came was a flood of guilt and shame. The poor kid does have a rougher time of it than I did, he thought. When they were deployed from Kamino, most clones stayed with the unit of one hundred brothers they were trained with. Even though you were thrown into a completely unknown galaxy that your training really didn't prepare you for, at least you still had your brothers, people you could depend on to watch your back.

But Runt and his brothers were experimental. There were only twenty of them, and they had been scattered throughout the army. What's more, they'd been sent out a year sooner than any other clones, with a year less training. Fierfek, he's only nine. And that Ord Mantel debacle had been the kid's first deployment, and it had been a failure. Oscar thought privately that the information Intel had given them on Separatist defenses and droid numbers had been complete poodoo. As usual. It was really no surprise that Runt was having trouble sleeping.

More guilt bubbled up. Oscar had just realized that Runt must have had to trust him to ask if he could sleep with him. That was the kind of question you only asked a close friend. Or a brother. And what do I do? I go and yell at the kid for being young… scared… lonely. Tells you what kind of person I am.

Oscar shifted around and stared at the ceiling of his bunk. He flopped onto his left side, then his right side. He kicked off his sheet and pulled it back up. He sat up and punched his pillow into a more comfortable position and dropped down onto it face first. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling. This wasn't working.

Oscar leaned over the side of his bunk and peered into the one beneath him. Runt was curled on his side, back to the walkway, head buried in his arms. Another wave of shame tightened Oscar's throat, and it took him a second before he could speak. "Hey, Runt…you know, I really wouldn't mind sharing a bed with you. That is, if you still want to."

There was a long pause, and Oscar was certain that the younger clone didn't want to have anything to do with him. And I don't blame him. Then Runt suddenly slid out of his bed and scrambled into the upper bunk. Oscar shifted over to make room for him, but the kid pressed close, like he was desperately seeking out warmth from Oscar's body. After an awkward pause, Oscar rapped his arms around the smaller body and pulled it closer, shifting them around until he was lying on his back and Runt's head rested on his chest. He could feel tears soaking slowly into his sleep shirt. Oscar cursed himself mentally and held the kid a little tighter. Tension drained out Runt by increments. His body soon lay relaxed and limp against Oscar's. He seemed on the verge of sleep. The emotional strain had taken its toll on Oscar as well. He could feel his eye lids growing heavy and beginning to close.

"Sleep well, little brother," he whispered. "Tomorrow I'm going to teach you how to play darts."

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mad'ika