The sun rose and fell and rose again, spearing a sharp, bright microscope like a magnifying lens through the trees. Purple felt horribly exposed by this light, as if it went against them, attempting to alert their enemies to their presence. Yes, hours had passed in anxious, antenna tugging dragging seconds and still Red had yet to awaken.

They had run for hours it had seemed. Jumping over logs, ducking limbs, flying down ravines as they tried to lose their stubborn trail of Screw Heads and their deadly bullets. Purple had held Red up the whole time and to his surprise the General had managed to maintain consciousness, giving advice and occasionally pointing out possible escape routes. They had worked together and the ground they had covered was amazing.

Only when the sounds of war cries had died out, did Purple find a dense cluster of trees for them to hide in. He'd laid the solider down and the poor Irken was out within seconds. Pur had no huge experience when it came to medicine but, even he knew that the amount of blue blood that covered both of them was not good.

Using his limited knowledge and strips of both of their uniforms, Purple had succeeded in wrapping the wound, since the bullet had gone straight through there was no need to dig it out. For this he was relieved.

Now however, the worry was mounting. It was an odd feeling. Caring. About more than just himself or the Empire or machine parts. The violet eyed Irken tugged his left antenna for the hundredth time in the last hour and sighed, his gaze falling back to the unconscious Red, who looked unbearably peaceful.

It was unnatural to care for someone like this. Respect, maybe. Red was after all his superior. That would be normal. But, wanting to clean his wounds, and sleep next to him and kill whichever Screw-Head had shot him, and rub their lips and antenna together again was most, certainly not.

And what about his nightmares? The nightmares about his stupid childhood that had plagued him for years? Red soothed them. Made them nearly non-existent. Purple, ran a nervous hand down his face.

"Oh Tallest…" Purple's head snapped to the side as he heard the familiar gruff voice, stiff with pain. Red had his eyes shut, teeth clenched in agony. "Fuckin' Screws."

The other irken practically flew off of the rock he was sitting on to kneel by his fallen comrade. "Oh. You're okay." A hand, the same one that had just shuttered nervously over his own face, now curled a gentle trail down Red's.

"Well, I'm alive. That's good." He winced again, maroon eyes slitting as they stared up at the pale alien, looming above him. "Or at least I'm telling myself that. The pain kind of makes me wish otherwise."

Purple snorted, feeling oddly giddy. Must be the adrenaline.

Red sat up, being careful to avoid jostling his leg. He tested his other limbs slightly and knew they were okay if a bit sore. His Pak, now that he was conscious, began to administer pain fighters and healing medications. Soon, the wound would be non-existent.

Purple backed off a bit, standing beside a tree to look out for any enemies. They couldn't afford a second assault. Not when the pick-up was only three days away. "Are you sure they'll come back for us?" He couldn't help but ask his companion.

"Yes." 'Well they'll come back for me.' He mentally said. It was true. Red was a general. Purple was a soldier. That still made him more important. Still, Red planned to rescue them both. Especially now that they were…well, now that…they had touched. His mind quickly supplied him with images of earlier. They had been so close, lips touching, antenna intertwining. One of the most intimate actions Irkens were capable of. And it was the first time he'd ever experienced it.

Red removed his maroon gaze from his rapidly healing limb to see the other Irken, looking very serious with his arms crossed and uniform all torn and stained with blue blood. Dirt covered him from head to toe. Yet, Red still found himself wanting to do it all again.

"Pur?" The nickname rolled off his tongue again, as easily as the first time. It tingled and the other responded easily. Red had never been one to try to put things off and what had happened between them before the ambush wouldn't just go away. Even now he felt the horrible, primitive urges to grab the solider and—he cleared his throat.

"Hmm?" The irken asked casually. Red knew however he was paying attention because his antennas were perked.

"About earlier…" As Purple watched the hidden horizon for signs of any danger, he fought the urge to spin around and either yell or seem too eager. Instead he just nodded slightly as a cue to go on. "Well, what happened…was unexpected. It's also rare and um…well kind of illegal." It seemed appropriate to murmur any words now. This was a dangerous conversation. Irk, the thing between them was dangerous. Lethal.

If anyone caught word of it…well, Red might be spared in order to go to jail for a life time. But, Purple would be executed on the spot. A tiny shiver of fear worked its way up his spine, sending tiny sparks through his pak, signaling it to modulate his emotions.

But, the pak didn't understand how to handle these feelings. It wasn't anything it had ever been programmed to do, so it let the weird things be, administering more pain medication in hopes of fixing the issue. Purple nodded again, stiffly. He knew. He knew all of this. By all means, he should be happy that Red understood. This should be the end of it. They should never touch again. Never even talk or look at each other unless it was to assure their safety for the duration of their journey.

But, the violet eyed irken spun on his heel and stalked over to the healing General and dropped to his knees directly in front of him, making sure to keep their faces even.

Red had been in many wars. Many life threatening situations that had demanded extreme calm and assurance. He was skilled in remaining a steady rock in times of danger. Red was a well known general for a reason; he was powerful, fearless when everything seemed hopeless. He'd faced down swarms of bloody thirsty beasts. Destroyed more warriors on the spot than any that had come before him. Red was who they called in when they needed a cold hearted bastard to take down a militia or an assassination unit.

As the fearless General stared into bright, amethyst eyes like spiraling nebulas he was terrified. "Red…"Purple began, looking determined and maybe a bit afraid himself. "We might die. This thing between us could get us killed. And…I want you to do it again." The tiny chin lifted, creamy jade skin shining in the barest evening light. His spooch skipped a beat. Red knew what his comrade was saying was crazy. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was 100% correct. He also knew that they were on a horrid ledge, looking down into a bottomless precipice.

The fearless general could back off. He could retreat, return to his life before this horrible solider had stepped into his line of vision. Red had always been afraid of heights. He licked his lips and knew he had to make a choice and whatever that choice was would send them both spiraling; it would release these weird, unnatural, fluttery feelings inside of him. This was the point of no return.

Red raised a hand, curled his three fingers around Pur's chin, leaned in and sent them both hurdling into the unknown.