A/N: This was kind of inspired by a hurt/no comfort fic of which I cannot remember the name, but it ended up being very different from the idea I initially had in my head. The basic premise of me wanting Fox to get a hug from one of his brothers remains the same.

The title is from the song Sparrow by The Arcadian Wild.

Written for prompt no. 26: "Sometimes I get so tired; I don't even know myself."

Seeing Double Working To Exhaustion "You look awful."

Fox doesn't look up when someone comes into his office. He doesn't have the energy to deal with people right now.

"I'm busy," he says, gaze fixed on the data pad in front of him.

"I know you're busy, but we need to talk."

Fox freezes. He recognised that voice. Wolffe.

It can't be Wolffe though. Sure, General Koon's legion had arrived on Coruscant yesterday (Fox still keeps track of where his batch mates are deployed), but Wolffe wouldn't be here at the CG headquarters, here in his office. The more likely option is that Fox has finally snapped and gone insane. He's just hallucinating.

Fox finally looks up. It really is Wolffe, grey painted armor with his helmet tucked under his arm.

"Kriff," Wolffe says, "you look like twenty kilos of osik stuffed into a ten kilo sack."

Fox opens his mouth to say something biting and sarcastic like "thanks, you too". Instead what comes out is "I missed you."

Wolffe's remaining eye widens.

'Kark it,' Fox thinks, 'I sound like a child. He must think I'm crazy or weak or defective or -'

Wolffe's next words cut through Fox's panicked thoughts.

"I missed you too, vod."

"What are you doing here?" Fox asks.

Wolffe hesitates. He looks at Fox, no doubt studying the dark circles under his eyes.

"Maybe now isn't the best time. You don't look well."

"I'm fine," Fox says. To prove his point, he stands up. The floor immediately tilts beneath him like a starfighter doing evasive manuveurs. He catches himself on the edge on the desk. Or rather - he tries to.

Wolffe catches him before he can hit the floor. Fox clings to his brother - not for balance but because Fox is sure that Wolffe will disappear as soon as he lets go. His mind is foggy; everything feels like a dream. He'll probably wake up soon.

"I'm sorry," Fox says, head dipping down so he won't have to meet Wolffe's eyes. He's not sure whether he's apologising for the fall or for… everything else.

Either way, Wolffe ignores his apology.

"When was the last time you slept, Fox?"

Fox frowns. He's sure he slept at some point in the last forty eight hours but he can't distinctly remember actually going to sleep.

"Not sure. Sometime Primeday."

Wolffe's good eye widens.

"It's Zhellday."

"Oh."

Fox hadn't realised that.

"Okay, that's it," Wolffe says, slinging Fox's arm over his shoulder, "you're taking a nap. A really long one."

Fox tries to pull away, to protest that he has too much work to do, but Wolffe isn't having any of it. Usually Fox can more than match his twin for stubbornness, if his brain isn't processing at 0.25 speed.

They pass Thire in the hallway outside and Wolffe asks him for directions to the Corrie barracks. Thire - like a traitor - immediately complies.

Wolffe deposits Fox on his bunk. The mattress is hard and barely bends under Fox's weight, but after being awake for longer than he cares to calculate it feels wonderfully soft. He sits there and just enjoys it for a moment. He needs to - there are so many things he needs to do, but he can't remember them right now.

"Fox?" Wolffe frowns down at him, "Come on, vod, armour off."

Right, usually people don't sleep in their armour.

Fox fumbles with his armour for a bit. It's a simple task, but he's so tired that navigating through it feels almost impossible. Wolffe eventually starts to help him. It goes quicker after that.

Without his armour Fox feels lighter. It's a dizzy, confusing feeling after so many hours spent in his shell. It feels foreign enough that it makes him feel slightly panicked.

"Wolffe, I really need to work. I can't -"

"Nope, I don't want to hear it. You need to sleep, vod."

"But Wolffe -"

"No buts."

Wolffe forces him to lie down before lying down next to him so that Fox is trapped between him and the wall. There's no escape so he just sighs and accepts his fate.

He closes his eyes. It's nice actually. The bed is softer than he remembers it being and Wolffe being there makes him feel safe. He can't remember the last time he felt safe.

Logically he should fall asleep quickly. Logic holds no power over Fox's sleep schedule though. After turning for the third time in as many minutes, Wolffe finally gives an annoyed huff.

"Do I need to call one of the medics to sedate you?"

"No, no, sorry. I just -"

Wolffe sighs and wraps his arm around Fox, pinning him against his chest like he did when they were cadets and Fox's insomnia wouldn't let him sleep.

"Close your eyes and names as many star system in the Midrim as you can," Wolffe orders.

Fox does as he's told. He barely gets a quarter of the way through before he's fast asleep.