Alex had spent a good portion of his younger years in the Empire and after he deflected for good, he found that it was harder than he realized to shed things he had been taught as an Imperial. Not only because many of the Rebels didn't trust him further than they could throw him – which wasn't far, unless it was a Wookie or a species with a similar build – but because he didn't know where to start. And one of those things was getting medical care when he needed it. After Atollon was a harsh wake-up call for him on how vastly different the Empire and the Rebellion was in terms of keeping their members alive and well.

With the Empire, it was bare bones medical care unless it was one was of the 'special' cases that not even the ISB Agents higher up than he had more up-to-date files on, or it was the Emperor or Vader themselves that required the care needed. Of course there were other cases that Alex had known more about through the locals talking on various planets or the random chatter no one thought he had overheard along the corridors of the various ships he had served on. Everyone else that didn't have a special reason, or was break-room gossip, was often given the very basic care to survive or a med-kit was thrust onto them and they were own to patch themselves up. Alex should've known better, after Onderon he had been one of the rare 'special' cases to be given more than basic care and only got worse from there, Bahryn being the prime example.

With the little time he has already spent with the Rebels he found that while the medics didn't always have extra supplies, said medics always were willing to help within the boundaries of their supply limits and which injuries required more of their attention. They rarely turned anyone away for even the smallest scraps and while they often had to make-do with rags or, on one occasion, leaves from the local jungle, the amount of care shown was vastly superior to what he had to work with as an Imperial. Yes the Rebel medics would sometimes have to turn down minor injuries in favor of the more common ones that often kept the makeshift med-bay on Yavin IV open around the clock – the type of injuries that the pilots had when they were fixing their ships and had deeper cuts than a scrap on the knee or after hours fights that came from too many bottles of alcohol. Alex had gotten first hand experience with this medical care when the Ghost first landed on Yavin IV and he had been in the third group to be whisked away to be treated, despite his attempts to defer treatment on the grounds that his injuries were 'not that bad' and he had 'a lot worse before and survived'.

If Hera hadn't been otherwise occupied at the time, the medic wouldn't have had to assign him a guard in her stead to make sure the Rebellion's newest deflector received and continued to receive medical care for a week afterwards. Said guard happened to be the first being that the medic had seen and had been High Command's second choice anyways, in keeping a watchful eye on the former Imperial – the first was needed elsewhere – and making sure that subsequent care was being giving properly. Not that the medics had any reason not to, despite Alex's past, as he found out a day later in his stay in the med bay that he had been, while under the guise of Fulcrum, responsible for several pieces of refurbished medical equipment and a few sporadic shipments of much needed supplies. If the older Twi'lek medic hadn't dropped those hints, his so-called 'guard' would've – had had in the time since Atollon – said something more direct.

And said "guard" was now standing by Alexsandr Kallus' desk in Intelligence two and a half months after that fateful day, purple furred arms crossed over his chest and green eyes boring a massive hole into the back of his head. He had seen Alex the day before and commented on how tired he looked, plus he didn't look so well even though Alex had insisted he was fine.

"I thought you were going to see a medic to check it out this morning," Zeb said in a low growl after Alex had sneezed into what seemed like another endless tissue. It was early afternoon and the Lasat had come up for his 'get the former Imp out of work for lunch' routine whenever the Ghost was planet side, but instead of heading off to lunch like he had planned, Zeb had heard a long coughing fit as soon as he had entered the Intelligence room. Several wandering eyes, and a few heads nodded, in Alex's direction from the other members of Intelligence, a few worried glances were given to Alex. Despite what Alex thought, and what a few small groups of Rebels believed, there were plenty of other Rebels that did care about his well being, many of which were working with him in the same room. And one that cared more than all of them combined, was standing behind said former Imperial, pushing down the impulse to hoist him out of his chair, sling him over his shoulder, and take him to medical himself.

"Garazeb, I'm fine, its nothing. Its just a cough," Alex mumbled, glaring down at the almost gone tea he had in his mug and wishing he had more. "The medics were still busy with others things when I went there before coming straight here."

"A cough that you've had for a few days now and judging by the coughing fit you just had when I came in a few minutes ago, sounds like it has gotten worse." Zeb's ears twitched, several other members of Intelligence giving him nervous looks. While they didn't know him personally, they knew better than to cross an annoyed Garazeb Orrelios and were silently hoping that Alex didn't prod him further – and if one of their members was beginning to get sick, like Alex was, then they couldn't function at their best, former Imperial or not. They also didn't want to see Zeb's temper flare up like it was beginning to, either. "And don't give me that bantha crap about the medics being busy, they're always busy."

"It'll go away on its own. Bedsides, its probably just me getting used to the climate here." Coughing several times, and sneezing twice, into his arm, Alex knew that he wasn't fooling anyone, especially Zeb. While Yavin IV's climate was humid at best, he had been stationed at worse places than here and by the end of his third week he could deal with the sporadic rain and humid temperatures. No, he was getting sick but he wasn't about to admit it and waste the resources that the Rebellion could use on someone else that needed it more.

"No its not, you've been here almost three months now." If Alex could see the Lasat's ears flatten against his head and the shifting stance he had, he would've doubled down on the instance he was fine. They had faced off in worse circumstances then this, he wasn't like the majority of the Rebellion and wasn't scared of facing off an annoyed Lasat. "I can also tell by your voice you're congested, too."

"How can you -" he started as he turned around to face Zeb, just as a coughing fit stopped him from continuing talking. As soon as he stopped, and drank down the last of his tea, did Alex turn fully around in his chair to face Zeb. "How can you tell?"

"See? You won't be able to get any work done while you're coughing like that." He uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips. "Because it sounds like your nose is closed up and you're talking behind a closed door or something, Kanan sounded like that the last time he got sick like this." Glancing to the bin of overflowing tissues on the other side of Alex's chair, he looked back at Alex with a worried look. "How many boxes of tissues have you gone through?"

"I'm fine, its nothing." Gritting his teeth, Alex berated himself for not emptying his waste bin sooner and made a mental note to hide any future sickness better. "I've got work to do, there's no time for me to take a sick day." Turning back around to his work station, he picked up the flimsy he had been reading before Zeb had interrupted him and tried to find where he had left off. Despite how bad he was feeling, it wasn't like this was the first cold he had and certainly not the last, he was just used to working through it and medicating himself with teas and herbal remedies to get him through. At least the Empire had allowed for that.

"This isn't the Empire, Kallus, we do take care of our own and you're one of us now." Zeb was steadily loosing the battle to just drag Alex down to the med bay and stand there until he got the treatment he needed to get better.

"I'll be fine," Alex mumbled quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Growling with his teeth bared, he pulled Alex's chair around to face him, his eyes narrowing as he held the arms of the chair firmly in place.

"You're going to the medics even if I have to carry you there myself!" Zeb didn't mean to shout the last few words but he was getting angry enough on Alex's instance of not going to get checked out that his resolve had finally cracked. He was so focused on Alex's well being that he completely ignored the fact that the rest of Intelligence had gone deathly quiet and was now staring at them with wide eyes, which was exactly what Alex was doing as well, the flimsy he had been holding onto now completely fallen to the ground. Then he scowled, pushing Zeb out of the way as he leaned down, grabbed his fallen work, got up, slammed it onto his desk, then turned to face the now seething Zeb.

"Fine, have it your way. If you're so instant on me going, you can go with me to make sure I get there." Without waiting for Zeb to follow, Alex walked out of the room with Zeb stalking out right behind him.

XxXxX

"Now I'm going to be out of work for the next week and I have a follow up appointment the day before the leave of absence expires to make sure I'm well." Alex glared at Zeb as best as he could as they left the med bay, nearly two hours after the pair had left Intelligence. The medic who had seen him, a young human female, had poked and prodded him after getting all his identifying information first, the reason for his visit, and giving consent to having Zeb by his side to hear everything. It didn't take said medic long to tell him and Zeb what they already knew: Alex was sick. He was given a full week off, with pills to help his chest congestion and his cough, and a nasal spray to help with the sneezing; he was glad that he had left with a small package of tissues, as he sneezed almost as soon as they had left. "I hope you're happy."

"You'd only have a few days rest if you had actually gone in this morning, not a full week off." He returned that glare as he guided Alex towards where the Ghost stayed while planet side, the only place where he could guarantee that Alex wouldn't sneak off to get work he could take to his bunk to do. When the medic had gone to get the cold pills, Zeb had stepped out of the closed off area where Alex had been seen and commed ahead to Hera, telling her what was going on and that they'd have a guest for the next week and to get Ezra to get some of Alex's belongings to bring over. He hadn't expected Hera to complain about it nor did she, she sounded pleased that they'd have Alex on board, a far cry from months ago when Alex was still chasing him across the galaxy. He did hear in the background Ezra griping about having to do that simple errand and that he was 'being kicked out' of his room for a week, Zeb only stopped from snapping back when the medic came back with the pills, only telling Hera they'd be there soon. "And you can't claim you didn't know, Draven got sent a copy of the medic's note of absence for you as soon as we left. It's standard practice."

"What?" Alex stopped walking, Zeb taking a few steps forward before he, too, stopped and turned around. His mind went blank for a moment, his eyes going wide and fearful, before he realized what that meant – he could not have his absence reported like that, not for any length of time. If his time in the Empire had taught him anything, it was that anyone who showed weakness in being sick and couldn't do their job, would be replaced just as quickly and soon as they had stepped out of medical. That deep rooted fear griped him, where he could barely take a few steps back – he could not have his superior know he was sick, it was bad enough the rest of Intelligence did. "No, we've got to go back, get the medic to rescind that note. I can't."

"Can't what?" Zeb asked, suddenly more worried than he had been earlier. The last time he had seen Alex this afraid was right after Atollon, when they were already two jumps out and he had found Alex hidden in a corner, eyes looking all around him and barely holding himself up with all the injuries he had sustained. "You need to get rest to get better."

"I can't get in trouble for being sick, Garazeb," he said softly. "I'll be kicked out of Intelligence for it, or worse."

"Hey, no you won't." Zeb closed the small gap between them and put his hands on Alex's shoulders. He knew how bad the Empire was and should've realized earlier that was one of the reasons why he hadn't gone to get checked up earlier, he had seen something similar in Sabine when she first was with the crew. "I was telling you the truth, we're not the Empire. We're not going to kick you out because you got sick, we need you to get better so you can do what you do best."

"I'm – I'm not used to this. Everything." Gesturing to their surroundings, Alex looked away embarrassed. He knew the Rebels weren't the Empire, that in the little bit of time he had been with them fully he had been welcomed with almost open arms and he didn't need to stress himself out for having a few coughing fits and some sneezing. But he also knew he couldn't unload a lifetime's worth of Imperial propaganda in a few short months, either.

"Yeah, I know. It'll get better, just ask Sabine sometime." Smiling, Zeb slung an arm around Alex's shoulders and continue to guide him back to the ship. "You're staying with us for the week, I commed ahead and got the kid to get you some clothes from your bunk, he already knows your bunk's code so don't even ask. Kanan probably started to cobble together some sort of soup for dinner and lunch tomorrow by now, you wouldn't know just by looking at him that he can still make some good food."

"He's a Jedi," Alex mumbled, coughing a couple of times before trying to smile. "Am I supposed to get used to you all mothering me?"

Zeb laughed. "Yeah, you are."