The corridors of the ship were quiet, lit only by the glow of overhead panels. Most of the 501st was still asleep, the low hum of the ship the only sign of life outside the barracks. But Fives couldn’t sleep. Not after that dream.

He’d jolted awake in a cold sweat, chest heaving like he’d sprinted the length of the ship. Echo’s voice still echoed in his head from before he ran back onto the ship. Before it exploded.

He sat on the edge of his bunk for a long time, elbows on his knees, hands buried in his hair. It wasn’t the first nightmare since the Citadel, but it was the worst. Too vivid. Too real. He couldn’t tell where the dream ended and the memory began.

Fives stood and quietly stepped out of the barracks. He didn’t bother with protocol or rank- none of that mattered right now. What mattered was that he couldn’t be alone. Not tonight.

His boots made soft thuds against the floor as he moved through the quiet halls. He knew exactly where he was going, even if he hadn’t made the decision consciously. There were few people he felt comfortable enough for this.

When he reached the door, he hesitated. His hand hovered for a second before he knocked- three sharp raps. Not loud, but urgent.

He didn’t care what time it was. He just needed to not be alone.

Fives stood in the dim hallway, jaw clenched, trying to hold himself together. His thoughts raced- images of the Citadel, the explosion- over and over again.

When the door slid open, he took a breath. “Hey... can I come in?”