One Hundred

T=3.0hrs

Kix watched the men outside the chamber.

Whisk was busying himself with the medical monitors. Blood pressure, heart beat; Kix knew the drill.

Record the base line and work from there. Only this time, it was his vitals being feed into the computer, his vitals that were being monitored.

And I'm not even injured!

He continued observing them, all going about their business keeping him alive.

This really isn't necessary.

The captain had received three communiqués and made two himself.

He then watched as Rex said something to Jesse, and he knew by his friend's demeanour that it had something to do with not reporting his drug habit to his commanding officer.

A reportable offense.

It then dawned on the medic.

Even though he thought all along that he wasn't affecting anyone with his addiction, he had in fact, done just the opposite.

Here they all were, risking the wrath of the Republic Army hierarchy trying to break something Kix thought he'd fixed.

Jesse and Whisk had given up their precious time in R&D to spend it in lock down in the unused quarantine area. The captain, surely had better places to be than watching him float around for hours, and Fives? Kix thought about the comment he made; what pretty blonde?

So even he had somewhere else to be?

"Whisk, let me know when you swap the men over and Kix starts withdrawal. I'll be in my office."

"Copy that captain."

Kix watched him leave and looked back to Fives, who even through the breathing apparatus he could tell was smiling, giving him a quick wink through the gel.

Fek!

He had never felt so hopeless in his entire life.

T=11.4hrs

Fives was hauled out and Jess took up second shift.

Unlike the ARC, he was trepiditious at getting into the ambient temperature tank. Jesse always hated the bacta and Kix knew how anxious he would be feeling as he was lowered under the surface.

Rex was stony faced, standing the entire time, not moving and waiting for the ARC to emerge and finish hacking up any residual bacta before he began talking to him. Kix wished he could hear what the two were saying. It must have been something important because Fives looked serious.

"Fives, how'd he go?"

[cough] "He's ok." [spit] "Started getting the shakes, but we calmed him down. He'll be right with Jess in there with him."

Rex shook his head, and the ARC knew there was something else coming.

"Argh," he growled, rubbing a hand over his head. "Fives, I don't know how to say this on top of everything you've just done, but you've been given another assignment. Just thought I'd give you the heads up. You'll have the orders tomorrow morning."

Fives froze.

The clock had ticked over again.

He nodded.

"Fek," he whispered, he was getting used to being around Coruscant.

And Tash.

"Well," he said a little more loudly, "'bout fekking time too, twenty nine hey cap?" The false bravado was typical of Fives.

Rex nodded, he couldn't smile though.

"Gonna leave a bloke hanging?"

"Ringo Vinda, but you didn't hear that from me."

They clasped hands as the ancient warriors did, and Kix felt ill; he knew they were saying goodbye.

Fives was heading out. Kix watched as the ARC grabbed his gear and head towards the refresher.

Rex watched him leave then swung around, "Whisk, all good?"

"Sir. Yes sir. We're well into the eleventh hour and so far so good. His BP is elevated and he's a little tremulous, but all in all, he's in good shape."

"Call me if you need me, I'm on comm," he said as he took one last look at the two 501st in the tank.

T=17.8hr

He was doing so well, when all of a sudden it hit him hard.

The pain was excruciating, causing him to black out momentarily, he roused and bent in half to try and staunch the cramp in his stomach.

That's when he panicked.

Jess swung over to him when he lashed out, frantically struggling against the harness and the respirator.

Whisk moved forward and spoke clearly as Jesse tried to regain some control.

"Let Jesse go Kix! This is just the second phase of withdrawal. The pain will go, you just have to ride it through. If you don't let Jesse go, I will pull him from the tank, do – you – understand?"

He waited for one of them to respond.

"Kix? KIX damn it!" Whisk raced over to the hydraulic arm supporting Jesse's harness and switched it on.

The thought of being in the tank all alone forced Kix to let his friend go. Jess quickly readjusted his bindings and respirator and gave the thumbs up. He could see the pain etched all over Kix's face and felt helpless that he could do no more than float absently next to him. Jesse reached both his arms out and Kix grabbed onto them as his friend pulled him in close. Nestled against Jess' chest, Kix breathed through the torment of another painful muscle spasm.

"Jesse, what the fek are you doing? Jesse?"

Whisk was on high alert.

Kix's blood pressure was through the roof, he was also tachycardic, had no pain threshold and was hypersensitive to any stimuli.

All completely normal for someone withdrawing from Morpha.

His body was in no uncertain terms letting him know it wanted more, the bacta accelerating the discontinuation at an alarming rate.

Jesse looked over his friends head at the medic outside the tank and nodded.

All was fine and he was back in control.

Until the next wave.

T=27.2hrs

Kix was highly agitated, swinging slightly in his harness as a form of forced meditation. Rex had arrived for the changeover and decided that he would do the next stint. After further consideration, Whisk was more valuable outside monitoring the more senior medic's progress. Men were always semi sedated during their time in the tank, fek, more than likely they were unconscious and completely unaware of their surroundings, allowing the bacta to do its job.

The young medic had never done anything like this before, nor was he trained to treat Morpha addiction.

It just wasn't supposed to happen.

It was only after the captain had called him into his office did Whisk come up with this alternative, away from the prying eyes of other soldiers in the medbay. Rex had appreciated his ingenuity and discretion.

Whisk was turning out to be a fine asset for the 501st in more ways than one.

Finally exhaustion took over and Kix fell asleep, floating like a dead man, his arms hanging loosely by his sides and his head slumped forward.

Rex moved over and checked his pulse. "He's OK cap, just exhausted. The worst is over. We'll give him another six hours before we pull him."

Rex tilted his head in question.

"All his vitals read that he has been through the worst of it. He can't have been on it for as long as we thought."

T=33.7hrs

Kix was unaware he was being lifted from the tank until he heard Jesse's voice. "Wake up ner vod, it's all over." They were the most comforting words he had ever heard.

Then the prerequisite coughing began.

Whisk moved forward and scanned Kix for the last time before injecting him with a multi vitamin to replace the minerals the addiction had stripped from his body. They all sat back tired, but happy it was finally over. Rex emerged from the refreshed clad only in his black body suit, running a towel over his head. He stopped and hawked up another mouthful of gel before he cleared his throat.

"You alright Kix?" There was no mistaking the slight level of annoyance in his tone.

Kix looked up, red eyed and nodded.

"Good. Because if you ever, and I mean ever, pull a stunt like that again, I will personally deliver you back to Kamino. Got it?"

Jess and Whisk pulled the medic to his feet, all stunned at the threat.

It was real and valid considering the circumstances. Rex shook his head slightly and walked over to his armour and began clipping it on.

He was aware of their eyes and silence boring into his back, his hand tremor had returned and he had to clench his fist to stop and check his anger before he could continue.

Swish – the automatic door obeyed the unspoken order.

"This is done."

And that was his last word on the matter.

.

And that's my last word on the matter as well.