Distantpain

Oh, Obi is in trouble now, I think. DistantPain is GOING places, and Obi’s steadfastness in spite of the ways he’s been treated is quite a tally mark in favor of the Light Side! I love how he shot down Dooku so thoroughly – kin killer is an apt name, definitely! And Zuru and Dogma are ABSOLUTELY going to motherhen Obi after this, no question! (How did he even GET here? Wasn’t he supposed to be on a long-term ‘mission’ with the 501st and 212th, cuz the Council and Yoda were meddling?)

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Waving slightly, Obi-Wan put on a bored look despite how pink his cheeks were due to the blood flushing his cheeks, swinging slightly back and forth over the pit from his last attempt to escape his bonds. “Hello there.” He greeted.

Staring up at him, clearly bemused, Skywalker opened his mouth then closed it again, clearly unsure what to say.

Dogma however had no such issue. “General! How!?” The man cried out, pulling his helmet off to stare up at him with wide eyes.

Grunting, Obi-Wan gestured vaguely up at his legs. “Ventress strung me up. Dooku left me here so I could reconsider my situation… and I’m currently hooped up on at least a Force inhibitor.” He stated as casually as possible.

Zuru let out a loud whine but didn’t remove his helmet, instead circling the pit, clearly looking for a way to get Obi-Wan down.

Scratching at his curls, Anakin licked his lips before shrugging. “I guess throwing my saber at the bonds and pulling you over would do the trick. Not going to be comfortable though.” He settled on.

Sending the other Jedi a flat look, Obi-Wan looked up at his legs again and then back at the blond. “…Gee, uncomfortable. I wonder how that feels.” He snarked.

Flushing but not answering, Skywalker instead turned to Dogma while lighting up his saber. “Get ready to catch him. Something tells me he won’t be able to catch himself.” He warned as if Obi-Wan couldn’t hear him, Zuru quickly coming back around the pit to Dogma’s side to hold the others helmet at the knights words.

Dogma, realizing what was going to happen, widened his stance and held his arms open, face determined as he focused on Obi-Wan.

Opening his mouth to let his opinion known about all of this, Obi-Wan let out a yelp as he fell a fair bit of distance before he was grabbed out of the air by invisible hands, the urge to throw up heavy as he was pulled.

Damn Skywalker was right though, Obi-Wan had no sense of balance as he hit Dogma, the trooper letting out a loud grunt and stumbled a few steps back due to the force but stayed upright with the redhead in his arms.

And he had no strength either as blood was suddenly rushing the right way, Obi-Wan helplessly retching as he flopped in Dogma’s arms like a fish on land as is sight darkened at the corners.

Woozy as all fuck, Obi-Wan let out a low whine before groaning as he was outright picked up, Dogma clearly walking while bridal carrying him. ‘Whelp, there goes what little dignity I have.’ He thought, grunting against a pauldron.

“Holy shit, is that what happens when you hang upside down for long enough?” Knight Skywalker stated in fascinated horror.

Grunting again, Obi-Wan flopped his head enough to look at the knight. “Blood… head. Can kill you. Don’t recommend…” He slurred out, wishing he could laugh at the outright horror the other’s face turned to.

Or well, he would until Zuru’s helmeted face popped into view, the sound of battle coming closer much to Obi-Wan’s realization. “It can kill you?” He questioned sharply, modulated voice clearly upset.

‘Must be getting closer to where the battle is… woot, 212th and 501st time!’ Obi-Wan thought with woozy delight as he flopped a hand shakily around. “Organs… press down… lungs. Choked.” Obi-Wan garbled out.

The arms around him tightened and Obi-Wan gave a protesting groan, his body already sore from hanging upside down for who knew how many hours.

Thankfully, the groan made Dogma ease his grip. “You’re going to the medics.” The man stated, making that damn, worried clicking noise Obi-Wan had been dreading even as a small core inside of him warmed him at the concern.

“Sith spit, that’s horrific.” Anakin mumbled out, clearly disturbed by whatever gruesome image the words had conjured up.

Grunting, Obi-Wan just rested his head on Dogma’s shoulder, closing his eyes. “Least its not disemboweling, that hurts like a fucker…” He muttered, ignoring the reaction to his words.

Woof, his head was still spinning.

(distant pain) How does Dooku feel about Obi-Wan ? Have they met ? Maybe even before tcw ?

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Swaying lazily back and forth over the open pit, his arms crossed over his chest, Obi-Wan glared quietly at the man standing in front as blood was rushing to his head and mentally he was cursing out Ventress for having him swinging over a damn open pit upside-down of all things.

Dooku stared calmly back at him, his hands resting on a snake headed cane and his cloak fluttering slightly in the breeze that echoed through the cave system.

For several long, uncomfortable minutes, neither said anything until Dooku seemed to have enough. “Grandpadawan.” He greeted calmly.

“Grandmaster.” Obi-Wan bit out, wishing he could regulate his blood flow but that was a bit hard with the Force inhibitor in his system, once more a curtsy of Ventress.

She had gotten the drop on him, much to Obi-Wan’s annoyance.

Dogma and Zuru were going to be unbearable motherhens when he got out of here, he just knew it, Dogma in particular.

The other had taking to questioning Zuru about the things Obi-Wan got up to and while Zuru had been somewhat desensitized to his actions and behavior, Dogma had certainly not and would regularly be making distressed, clicking noises when Zuru informed him of past missions.

And after swaying over a black hole in a cave system, upside down with Count Dooku in front of him, both of them were sure to turn into motherhens again.

“It is a shame that Qui-Gon did not see fit to introduce us sooner,” Dooku drawled, Obi-Wan eyes narrowing faintly at the mention of his former master. “Not that you seem to have a good relationship with your former master.” The man tacked on.

Letting out a hissing breath between his teeth, Obi-Wan glared at the older man. “Well gee, I wonder why, repudiation has a tendency to leave a bad taste in people’s mouth you know.” He drawled.

Dooku hummed faintly, tapping his glove covered fingers on his cane. “Indeed, I heard about the… incident,” He stated a tad delicately, looking away as if the cave wall was fascinating. Obi-Wan almost snorted at him. “A damn shame really, Skywalker is an uncouth thug, little more than a power house with little to bring to our lineage.” He stated,

Trying not to feel nauseous with all the head having gone to his head, Obi-Wan let out a dark laugh. “Oh right, our lineage. You have no claim on it anymore after turning your back on us all,” Obi-Wan continued to mirthlessly laugh, keeping his eyes on Dooku’s darkening face. “Tell me, how sweetly does the dark side sing to you? How many Jedi have you killed? Kin slayer.” Obi-Wan sneered at him.

Opening his mouth, Dooku had clearly been about to reply when the vitriol of the last two words hit him, the man jerking back as if electrocuted as he stared at Obi-Wan.

Snorting, Obi-Wan stared at the man. “You have no claim to our lineage anymore, you traitor to everything, even the family we are suppose to be. Force sensitive have few friends in this galaxy and now you, raised in the temple, turn on us too. Begone from my sight, I have no camaraderie with you.” He stated darkly.

Obi-Wan might be on the edges of the temple, for all that he was a council member. His work as a shadow operative had isolated him away from many outside of his crechemates and Quinlan but he was still a Jedi.

And he’d be a Jedi until the day he died.

Visibly shaking himself, Dooku put on the best sneer he could, despite Obi-Wan seeing he was unnerved beneath his mask. “I see, so you throw loath in with the Order and the dying Republi-”

“I throw my loath in with my family,” Obi-Wan replied steadily, the cave breeze rustling through his hair. The family he had grown up with and the family he had found. “As all Jedi should.”

If Obi-Wan could have seen himself, he would have noted that his eyes were almost glowing as he stared Dooku down.

Unsettled, Dooku simply sneered at him before turning, heading towards the cave mouth. “Maybe you’ll come around in an hour or so, if you’re still alive. After all, the lungs do not enjoy weight on them.” He drawled as he stepped out.

Snorting quietly, Obi-Wan looked up at his tied up legs. “…Kark Ventress for taking my weapons… even my boot knife.” He grumbled.

How is the council in distant pain? Has qui gon tried to get them to explain things yet?

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Rubbing his face after glancing at the closed door, Qui-Gon slowly turned to look at Yoda, giving his old grandmaster a long stare. “…Your sticky fingers are too long grandmaster.” He finally ventured, forgoing all formality even as the council shifted uncomfortably.

“Know not what you speak of I do.” Yoda sniffed at him, giving him a gimlet eye.

Staring back evenly, Qui-Gon shook his head slowly. “I might have put the ice around Obi-Wan’s heart, but I was not the reason it continued to grow,” He stated gravely, holding the ancient master’s eyes. “And forcing him together with me will only keep the ice there, Obi-Wan has no obligation to forgive me, regardless of what a Jedi’s philosophy is. He still walks in the light, by some miracle, considering the missions he has hinted to being given by both the council and the Chancellor himself.” He continued steadily.

There was a long, painful silence before finally Yoda was the one to look away.

Shaking his head while tucking his hands into his sleeves and grasping his own wrists, Qui-Gon let his thoughts rummage a bit before shaking his head again. “I will accept this mission with Obi-Wan, but hear me grandmaster, what you want from it won’t happen. Obi-Wan has moved far beyond me and maybe, one day, in the far future, he may forgive me, may,” He stressed when Yoda looked back at him. “But if he doesn’t or does is up to him. And even if he does forgive me… he is not required to have a relationship to me beyond the letters that state that I was registered as his master. Obi-Wan has moved far beyond me.” He continued gravely.

The silence of the council chamber had never been so uncomfortable as in that moment, at least not for Qui-Gon.

Not even when it was clear Yan had fallen had it been like this, when all the eyes of the council had been on Qui-Gon, prodding and questioning as now both a padawan and a master had fallen.

He was dismissed minutes later, nothing left for anyone to say but he didn’t take the elevator down just yet, opting to move to the large window of the entrance hall to the council chamber.

After a moment, he stepped out onto the balcony, breathing deeply as the fresh wind far above the buildings and traffic of Coruscant hit him.

This far up, the pollution became none existent, especially as public speeders, cars and ships were prohibited from entering the airspace.

Settling his arms on the balcony rail, Qui-Gon let out a deep sigh as he stared out over the city.

Sometimes, he wondered how everything could come to this.

‘Greed. Isn’t that what it all comes down to in the end?’ He mused, staring at the Rotunda.

He didn’t disagree that the Separatists didn’t have the right to leave, of course they did, considering how the outer rims and mid rims planets were often treated, but the way everything was going now…

It was a detriment and the Senate did not make it any better.

He was very aware that the Senate had made it illegal to meet with any Separatists in an attempt to broker peace as it ‘legitimized’ the CIS.

Bantha shit.

Narrowing his eyes, Qui-Gon took a deep breath through his large nose, hearing the council doors swish open as he continued staring at the Rotunda. ‘There is something rotten on Coruscant, like mold, slowly spreading through the entire planet, reaching even the Jedi temple… and it will not be the Senate and what is rotten that will pay the price of that rot.’ He ignored the quiet noise of his grandmaster coming to a standstill beside him.

“…Thinking you are?” Yoda peered up at him.

“…That price we are paying for the Senate is too high.” Qui-Gon murmured, both falling silent once more. After all, the Jedi were used to paying the price when the Senate and the Senators eyed them up.

I love how easy and loose Obi-Wan is around Dex in DistantPain! Especially given how he’s been shown to react in other circumstances and with all that he’s been through, I am super curious about how and/or why DEX is the specific person who can affect Obi-Wan so positively! Is there a story there?

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Of course, nothing lasts forever and honestly, the boys are frankly just grateful Obi-Wan had the time to eat properly and have a few laughs when the Jedi’s comm chimes and he answers it with a look of annoyance.

“Ugh… okay, Zuru, Dogma, please just stay, grab yourselves a dessert too, I’m needed at the temple.” Obi-Wan sighed, annoyance clear on his face even as he forced a smile on his lips for his men.

“Is there something wrong sir?” Dogma half stood only to sit back down when Obi-Wan waved his hand.

“No, just meddling family. I’ll see you both later on. We’ll most likely be assigned a mission soon, most likely with the 212th.” Obi-Wan sighed deeply before waving at Dex as he swigged down the last of his tea.

With that the Jedi made his way out, the thundery cloud over him seemingly growing as he reached their parked speeders, grabbing the one he had taken out.

Zuru and Dogma could only watch him leave before looking at each other.

“Do you… know what that was about?” Dogma ventured carefully.

Shaking his head, Zuru opened his mouth only for a low but deep snort to interrupt. “That my good friends, would most likely be the summoning of the Grandmaster of the order and the great grandmaster of Obi-Wan himself.” Both troopers looked up to find Dex leaning on the booth,

Notably, the besalisk was leaning on Zuru’s side, giving Dogma space and ability to clearly see him, even if the troopers hadn’t noticed the great bulk of the man coming over.

How a man that big moved that quietly, neither was sure, it wasn’t like Dex Jettster was a Jedi like Krell.

Gripping his cup tightly, Dogma warily peered at Dex even as Zuru just waved lightly, having encountered the man before. Under the table, Zuru comfortingly pressed his calf to Dogma, feeling the other pressing his leg back.

Outwardly as calm as possible except for the tight hold on the cup, under the table, Dogma sought comfort and security. “You mean General Yoda, serah Jettster?” Zuru questioned, leaning a bit back when the large besalisk waved one of his four hand.

“No serah here, any friend of Obi-Wan can call me Dex. Wee tucker has been coming here since he was yee high,” Dex continued to gesture with another hand, still leaning on the booth with his other two. “Fresh faced and chubby looking and yet so terribly fierce. Wouldn’t feel right to have anyone call me anything other than Dex when they’re part of his small ragtag team.” He smiled at them.

Zuru and Dogma exchanged looks, both of them nodding slowly, if the latter a tad more cautiously than the former.

Fair be, it was the first time Dogma had meet Dex at all.

Moving his hand up that had been waving, Dex scratched at his throatsack. “As for my comment… yeah, I mean Master Yoda. Great man, respectable, venerated, old…” He trailed off, his eyes narrowing a bit. “And a grade tool that doesn’t understand that the eons have moved past him and that he is not infallible.” Dex sighed deeply.

Exchanging startled looks, Dogma and Zuru came to a sudden understanding.

Dex Jettster may be the only person outside of the Jedi order, perhaps even in the entire galaxy outside of Cotton, that properly knew the person Obi-Wan Kenobi had become after Qui-Gon Jinn’s actions.

()()()

Stepping into the council room, Obi-Wan let out a tired sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought I recognized the auras outside the room already, but I was hoping…” Obi-Wan trailed off before breathing out deeply, staring at the rest of the council and Qui-Gon Jinn. “Let me guess, another mission with the 212th and potentially the 501st? Far into the dept of space, meaning we’ll have to work together closely?” He questioned dryly.

Most of the other Jedi looked uncomfortable, especially his former master and Obi-Wan inwardly snorted as he let his eyes trail over his fellow council members until he found the culprit.

Obi-Wan eyed the old master before nodding. “Grandmaster, I’d say you look good but you sort of just look like you’ve always have you old, dried out sponge.” He stated dryly with a knowing look in his eyes.

Yoda simply raised his brows at Obi-Wan, the council covering discreet laughs with coughs as Cotton scampered into the room and crawled up Obi-Wan’s back, resting his head on the Jedi’s shoulder. “When almost nine hundred you become, comment on my looks you can.” The grandmaster grumped.

“And when master repudiates you in front of a body beings you respect, you can try to force me to forgive mine, until then, I have other things to do in this forsaken war. Now, what mission is it you have for me?” Obi-Wan drawled, crossing his arms over his chest as he ignored the collective flinch of the entire room.

Old troll 0, Obi-Wan 1.

Sorry if you got an unfinished ask earlier. Could we see Obi-wan, Zuru, and Dogma on their first mission together? Maybe with the 501st or 212nd? Or maybe the three ofbtjem going on an excursion to have some real food? Not just the normal rations. Thank you for all your writing!

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Throwing the door open with the Force in what both troopers knew was a display of frivolous use of Force, Obi-Wan pushed the two in with his hands, grinning widely. “And here we are, the greatest place for a meal on Coruscant! Welcome to Dex’s diner!” He declared, ignoring the stink eye of several patrons.

Dogma opened his mouth only to shut it when a roar of a laugh cut him off, the portly besalisk behind the counter jumping over in a display of agility and strength Dogma wouldn’t have suspected of the man. “Obi-Wan! You rascal! Don’t think you get a discount just because you’re praising my establishment!” The man was still laughing, his mustache quivering.

His Jedi shot past the two troopers, throwing his arms around the besalisk with a shockingly boyish laugh. “Dex, you old goat!” He greeted in return, laughing even more as he was lifted off his feet in a wookie strong, four armed hug.

Turning slightly, Dogma gave Zuru a slightly wide eyed look.

Zuru just smiled wryly in return. “Meet Dex Jettster, one of a very selective few people that can make our General act like a boy.” He stated quietly, his smile growing a bit more as he watched Dex mess up Obi-Wan’s hair with one of his hands, the others still wrapped around the Jedi.

Turning back, Dogma continued watching.

What he saw…

It was interesting.

After the Cuddle Puddle, Obi-Wan had looked so content, everyone discreetly high fiving each other with getting the stiff and aggressive General to finally relax properly without any harm.

He’d looked so doped up, mild and half smiling.

But this?

Obi-Wan had a light in his eyes, as if years had fallen off him and he was smiling so widely it had to hurt.

He looked genuinely happy.

Finally, the besalisk sat Obi-Wan down, one hand still on his shoulder as Dex looked to them, Dogma nervously tensing. But Dex didn’t approach them, only gave them a wide smile and gestured to a booth. “Please! Sit, order, anyone that comes with Obi-Wan is a friend of mine! Hermoine! Take their drink orders!” Dex ordered, pulling Obi-Wan along a bit.

The Jedi happily went, not looking back and Zuru grasped Dogma’s elbow, pulling him along until they were at the end booth, sitting down while watching Obi-Wan.

The two troopers ordered caff and tea respectively, still watching their Jedi even as the drinks came.

Pulling his caff over, Dogma tilted his head then glanced at the pilot. “I… I’ve never seen the General like this, he’s so… happy.” He blinked.

Snorting, Zuru tapped his vambrace. “Hell, I’ve never seen him in as good a mood as this either,” Zuru marveled, watching Obi-Wan laugh as the besalisk entertained him with a story while both pretended Obi-Wan wasn’t hiding an info chip into his belt that Dex had slid him on the table. “Hell, even that time he punched Krell in the face during sparring didn’t have him that jolly.” Zuru lifted his tea to his lips, taking a sip to check.

He wasn’t as good as Obi-Wan at steeping but it tasted about right to him.

Dogma paused, staring at the pilot with wide eyes. “He punched Krell?” He whispered, shocked.

Snorting, Zuru glanced to check that Obi-Wan was still occupied before responding. “He hated Krell’s guts, had a vendetta against him way before… before…” He winced, taking a hurried sip.

Dogma did too, subconsciously tensing before forcing himself to relax again.

Umbara would be a stain in everyone that had been there’s memory.

Glancing at their General again, Dogma stared at him, watched him laugh. “…Jedi… aren’t suppose to hate.” He stated, feeling odd and stilted.

“No… not really,” Zuru fiddled with his tea, pulling the teabag out of it before it steeped to long and became bitter. “Obi-Wan explained it to me once. Jedi can feel all emotions, there’s nothing stopping them from feeling it all but the thing is… they aren’t suppose to let their emotions control them.”

Dogma mused on that, tapping his cup before nodding. “I think I get it? I mean, its kinda the same thing shiny’s get taught. That you can’t let fear control your actions? Running away from a battle or freezing?” He ventured hesitantly.

Zuru nodded. “That’s how I understood it too.”

“But if he punched Krell… doesn’t that mean he did let anger control him?” Dogma bit his lip, wondering if he should even ask.

Zuru snorted. “I asked him the same thing. General just… grinned at me, shrugged and said, ‘Zuru, if you think I’m that perfect, you haven’t seen behind the curtain yet.’ and patted me on the head.” He smiled a tad wryly.

Returning to watching the smiling, laughing Jedi, Dogma mused on that before shrugging and picking up the menu, wondering what in the world kinda food would make the Jedi think this place was the greatest on Coruscant, Zuru repeating the action on the other side.

For Distant Pain, yayyayayayayayay Obi getting closer to the vode! Even though I’m on the edge of my seat for more ‘mysterious past’, right now having Obi healing is so nice and cathartic. Would any of these scenarios strike your fancy? 1. Obi meeting Zuru (who is BEST brother) 2. Obi in the cuddle puddle 3. Obi finding a vode to help him finish his tattoo?? No pressure, and thanks so much again for all sharing your beautiful writing!!

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Eyes closed, Obi-Wan continued to breath slowly in through his nose and out of his mouth, feeling more comfortable than he could remember being in years as he laid between two warm bodies on his left side.

At least while sober.

But that wasn’t something he was going to admit where anyone, especially the ones he was with now, could hear him.

‘Joining the vode cuddle puddle was the best idea ever and I am going to buy Rex, Zuru and Dogma something very nice once I’m at shore to thank them.’ Obi-Wan sleepily thought as Zuru nuzzled sleepily into Obi-Wan’s stomach.

Dogma had suited himself at Obi-Wan’s back, being a barrier for the Jedi between the door, as if he needed to reassure himself that Obi-Wan was safe somehow and didn’t trust anyone else to do it. Maybe a subconscious thing, because Obi-Wan had noted that he had waited until both he and Zuru was laying before he took his position.

The man had instantly spooned Obi-Wan, his arm coming protectively down around both Obi-Wan and Zuru and by the way Zuru was quietly making noises at time, Obi-Wan would guess that the pilot was being petted or head rubbed slightly.

Zuru had always enjoyed hair play, something Obi-Wan had found out in the first month of him and Zuru working together as they curled up together to conserve heat and, if Obi-Wan was honest, prevent the loneliness that he could feel setting into both of their bones.

The pilot had yet to develop shields or learning how to not project into the Force around a Jedi, so it was easy to read him without even trying back then.

Rex had also joined their cuddle puddle, sitting with Obi-Wan’s head resting in his lap, his fingers running through the un-gelled hair, leaving it soft and clean for the captain’s touch.

He’d felt a bit self-conscious to begin with when Rex had started but then the man had started alternating between running his fingers through the hair and then gently scratching at Obi-Wan’s scalp with blunt fingernails.

Heaven on earth, Obi-Wan had to bite in a moan even as he felt someone, Fives he thought, settle with his head resting on Obi-Wan’s left thigh, using it as a pillow since Obi-Wan’s legs were slightly spread.

The entire room had been covered in what looked like thin mats that were shockingly comfortable, what looked like every pillow and blanket not in the medbay and a few blowup mattresses for those that had bad backs or injuries.

And there were a few, who were recovering.

The entire room was full of everyone not on duty and yet it was so quiet and calming, the utter serenity and quiet joy of the room soaking into Obi-Wan’s very being, being part of why he was so comfortable.

The sensation of life and yet contentedness of a room full of people that adored each other and just wanted everyone to be happy…

If Obi-Wan was to say that Jedi had any drugs, it would be this.

A Jedi could get high of these sensations and emotions.

He made a low noise as he felt who he thought was Fives shift a bit, feeling someone else join the vod and reached down to blindly pet the man until Fives settled with whoever had joined them.

If Obi-Wan was to make a guess, based simply on the Force sensation of the person, it was Echo.

But it could also be someone else honestly.

The sensations were making him high and therefore Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what was up and down at this point, only that he was utterly safe and utterly content, Dogma’s arm slung around him and resting on Zuru, Zuru’s arm around his waist and Rex hands in his hair.

And then Fives hands almost shyly joined in, gently petting at Obi-Wan’s calf.

If there were such a thing as a true heaven, Obi-Wan would be tempted to call the vode for it as the doors slid open and Cotton started to chirp at them, coming to join Obi-Wan and his cuddle puddle by laying out on the Jedi’s hip, a comforting and familiar weight.

Heaven.

In Distant Pain, what does Obi-wan make of the cuddle puddle? Is he uncomfortable at first, or does he embrace it full on, bringing snacks and the softest blankets, and maybe a stuffed tooka or two for the shiniest of the clones? He may not be going on shadow missions, but he might as well use his less than legal contacts for something worthwhile after all.

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Blinking heavily at the pilot, Obi-Wan sat back against the headboard of the medbed he was still assigned, technically he could get a bunk somewhere on the ship but he was actually finding Kix bedside manners quite comfortable

Right now however he was questioning if he had to get the medic to check his ears, because he wasn’t sure he had heard Zuru right. “A cuddle what now?” He finally questioned incredulously after prolonged silence.

Behind Zuru, Dogma shifted a bit, his cheeks darkening slightly with pinkness and Zuru himself looked to barely be resisting shifting on his feet. It was almost enough to make the Jedi start smiling in amusement.

They had looked so confidant walking in, assured and determined.

Now they looked like uncertain puppies and a part of Obi-Wan softened up.

“A cuddle puddle sir,” A voice spoke up behind them, Captain Rex stepping into the medbay with a slight nod, smirking slightly at the relieved look on both of his fellow vode, his helmet resting on his hip under his arm. “Its a way for clones to reaffirm that everyone is alright, to ensure no one is touch starved and to provide comfort.” He stated, walking over to stand at the foot of Obi-Wan’s bed.

Pausing, Obi-Wan stared at the captain for a few seconds before letting out a soft, ‘huh’.

Ridiculous name aside, that actually made sense.

And in most armies, pat downs after skirmishes were normal.

Obi-Wan knew that the troopers too practiced pat downs, though only on each other generally.

Mostly because natural borns were assholes to the vode but at least the men had each others, it was always something that made Obi-Wan’s chest ease ever so slightly every time his mind reminded him of the bastards that got put in charge of the troopers.

Even some of the Jedi.

They weren’t pristine, Obi-Wan wasn’t blind to it and he was keeping an eye on several Jedi and the fatality counts.

Jedi at least were suppose to preserve life.

“Sir?” Rex murmured, bringing him back to the situation.

Cocking his head, Obi-Wan looked between the men before letting out a low noise. “Makes sense, not sure why you’re bringing it to me?” He stated bemusedly.

Now both Dogma and Zuru were shifting.

Rex however outright rolled his eyes and moved to the other side of the bed that did not contain troopers. “Because you’re a brother too and we’re inviting you to our cuddle puddle.” He stated, tone half stern and half worried.

Blinking sharply, Obi-Wan felt his mouth drop a bit before shifting, feeling something he hadn’t felt in years.

Shyness and longing.

He wasn’t an easy man to get close to, not after Qui-Gon had all but repudiated him during the Naboo invasion. He had his childhood friends, he had Dex and the council but that wasn’t many people.

Zuru and Dogma were recent additions really.

And now the full 501st wanted him there for something wholly intimate and involved a whole load of faith in Obi-Wan.

“…Are you certain that the vode would want me there?” He stated a tad cautiously, forcing himself to keep eye contact with the good captain.

A softening of amber eyes almost made his ears burn as Rex nodded. “Sir, we’d be honored to have you there… and relieved.” He tacked on after a moment.

Lips twitching faintly into a small smile, Obi-Wan ran his hand over his spiked hair, letting out a breathless laugh. “…Obi-Wan. Its only right, during something like this, that you all call me Obi-Wan.” He stated quietly.

Smiling faintly, Rex ignored Dogma’s puckered expression as he held out his left hand to the Jedi. “Well then Obi-Wan, lets go join a cuddle puddle.” He stated, voice soft as Obi-Wan suddenly seemed so much smaller in the medbed.

Slowly, Obi-Wan reached out and settled his hand into Rex, accepting the help out of bed as he slid his feet into the slippers Kix had generously provided him.

A part of him couldn’t help but wonder if this would be anything like back in the creche, younglings curled up together for naps and sleep.

‘I think… I think I’m going to enjoy this…’ Obi-Wan noted mentally, blinking down at the hand still holding his as Rex lead him out, Zuru and Dogma following quickly after.

The last Distant Pain was lovely and it got me thinking.  Are there any other clone traditions Zuru has been missing out on?  Maybe ones he doesn’t even know about that Dogma decides he has to make sure Zuru and Obi-wan get a chance to experience?

Posted on av swmoddy

Feeling good about himself, Zuru happily fetched his tray with Dogma just behind him, both of them full of relief in the knowledge that Obi-Wan was sleeping.

Both Jedi were in fact sleeping and the only reason Dogma and Zuru were awake was that they had come of off a night shift and were just getting something to eat like the rest of the vode that had been on the same shift.

Hey, just because they weren’t part of the 501st, didn’t mean that they didn’t need to do their part to keep the maintenance of the ship and the daily ongoing of war.

“So, are you joining the cuddle puddle tonight?” Dogma quietly asked as he followed behind the pilot, Zuru almost stumbling as that was the last thing he expected to hear out of his vode and now fellow platoon trooper.

“The what now?” Zuru blinked, turning his head enough to look at Dogma over his shoulder, blinking heavily.

Dogma just blinked back before realization hit him and he let out a low groan. “Of course you don’t… come on, head for Captain Rex, he’ll be the better one to explain.” The man settled, his tone brisk and low but it did not escape Zuru’s attention that Dogma’s ears were turning a bit pink.

‘Okay… cuddle puddle? What in the world is… okay. Where is the captain…’ Zuru paused, looking around before zeroing in on the blond, almost shaven down hair of the captain.

There were a few blond vode but only Rex had hair that short in the 501st.

The man in question raised a lazy hand, drinking warm broth from the looks of it and looking extremely unhappy about it.

Most likely a mandatory order from Helix if Zuru was to guess, apparently the medic forbid caff this late if you weren’t on shift and you had to pick alternatives.

Due to shortages, tea were generally out of the question, though a cheap substitute that tasted like grass was available, apparently made from dried tree bark.

Obi-Wan’s face when he heard that had been hilarious, his face transforming to one of horror before he had run of to his and Zuru’s ship, shouting about tea sacrilege and abominations of the hot beverage world.

“Zuru doesn’t know what a cuddle puddle is, sir.” Dogma started, his tone frank and his gaze blank.

Rex however choked a bit on his broth and the trooper beside him, named Killer or Killshot if Zuru remembered right, dropped his fork in surprise, all attention suddenly on Zuru.

He shrunk a bit under it, despite knowing he was safe but he just wasn’t used to all the attention.

Rex opened his mouth then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you don’t know about… fuck, apologies Zuru, someone should have told you.” The captain stated, sounding genuinely sorry.

“That’s alright,” Zuru forced it out, still uncomfortable with all the eyes on him despite some of the brothers starting to go back to their food. “But what is a, a cuddle puddle?” He felt ridiculous for saying those words.

Maybe Obi-Wan’s personality was rubbing a bit of him.

Sitting back, his cup on the table, Rex let out a deep sigh. “Okay, the name isn’t the smartest but cuddle puddles are the hours were clones gather to… well cuddle,” Zuru stared at Rex, waiting for the joke to be revealed. Nope, Rex face was not changing, looking as serious as Cotton when hungry. “We’re clones, we’re raised in batches, all our lives we’re with each other,” The captain explained softly. “We need the closeness of each other and according to the medics, we release healthy hormones and chemicals by touching each other. So, cuddle puddles.” He explained.

Blinking heavily, Zuru ran his hand over his hair, opened his mouth then closed it again, trying to find words as Rex took the pause as an opportunity to take a sip of broth. “I’ve… never heard of it before.” He finally stated awkwardly.

Rex settled his cup on the table again. “We basically just collect in one of the larger rec rooms with the blankets and pillows from our bunks and curl up together, some give each other back rubs or just curl up together to sleep, honestly just positive human contact.” He explained quietly.

Most of the attention were luckily off them now, Zuru feeling his shoulders sink with ease as he took in the fact and a deep seated, terrible longing echoed through him hard enough to make Zuru almost feel physically ill.

Until Dogma snorted deeply. “Thinking about it, I’m not shocked,” He grimaced before shrugging at everyone looking at him in surprise. “Zuru’s one clone alone with his General. Cuddle puddles don’t happen until we come off Kamino nor when we’re in live zones of battle or on planets. They happen when we’re in either the barracks and know there’s no fight coming or we’re on the ship.” He knocked on the table.

And that made a disturbing amount of sense.

Zuru had gone directly from Kamino to working with Obi-Wan.

He worked, slept and relaxed with Obi-Wan.

And for all that Obi-Wan loved him, and Zuru knew that even if the Jedi didn’t say it, it meant that Zuru did not spend a lot of time with his vode at all.

And none of that time had been during down time.

And Rex mentioning of health… it made sense, Zuru knew that humans needed contact and sure, they were clones…but they were also humans.

Looking up, Zuru stared at Rex with pleading eyes. “I want to join. Please?” He knew his voice was pitiful, felt Dogma bump their shoulders together and saw Rex eyes soften.

“Of course Zuru, you’re welcome to any cuddle puddles on the Resolute,” The Captain stated, voice soft and gentle. “As is the General if you want to tell him, ner jetii vod’ika.” Rex rumbled out.

‘I’m dragging him there myself when he’s awake.’ Zuru promised himself, glancing at Dogma to see the determined look enter his rule following brothers eyes.

In the last Distant Pain Dogma and Zuru were going to paint their armor, how did they end up painting it and what different designs did they each choose and how excited was Zuru during the whole process? Also how did Obi-Wan react to the finished armor?

Posted on av swmoddy

Laying on his back in the hanger bay, Obi-Wan let out a deep, content
breath as troopers milled to and fro, his release from the medbay
doing him a world of good as he had trailed after his two troopers
once they had gotten the paint from the quartermaster on board.

Not
that Obi-Wan was looking, no, he was laying on the floor with his
robe bundled up under his head, scratching Cotton’s mane as he
enjoyed the peaceful Force aura of everyone buzzing around.

And he
was listening to Zuru and Dogma low, murmuring voices, Obi-Wan unable
to help the small smile that curled on his lips, Cotton settled on
his stomach where she was napping quite contently on his stomach in
her smaller form.

The
two had rushed around to get paint once they had confirmation that
there was more than blue in stock on the Resolute and started
discussing the designs that would go on Zuru’s blank armor, Dogma
opting to repaint his blue with what they had chosen.

Not
that Obi-Wan knew what they were doing or what color.

No,
they had refused to tell him, Zuru quite bluntly telling him that
they wanted to surprise him and Dogma nodding a tad more hesitantly
behind the pilot.

So, a
bit amused, Obi-Wan had agreed to not peek, instead just laying on
the floor much to Dogma’s outrage and Zuru’s amusement as the two
sat on empty cargo crates as they went to work to paint.

Dogma
occasionally groused quietly about the floor being filthy and cold
since it was a hanger, his voice becoming loud enough for Obi-Wan to
hear it.

Not
that Obi-Wan really cared but it was heartwarming to know that Dogma
didn’t want him to be filthy or cold.

It was
nice to just lay there and listen to everyone honestly, the sensation
of the vode fussing around washing over him, the sounds of their
voices, the work of people on ships, the laughter and then the warmth
in the Force that came from the troopers.

It was
nice.

It
made Obi-Wan settle down and feel calm.

And
there was one more thing, a thing he would never admit to anyone.

The
sensation of being wanted.

Because
the troopers didn’t try and hide that, it washed over him along
with their voices, the sensation of people searching him out and
feeling happy to have him there, being glad that he hadn’t
left.

Despite
Obi-Wan not doing anything.

And
yet they were still content that Obi-Wan was just… there.

It was
dizzying to have people, so many, care.

“Alright,
you can look now General.” Zuru piped out, his voice oozing with
smug satisfaction and delight.

Poking
Cotton, chuckling when she crumbled but obediently crawled off him,
Obi-Wan sat up and brushed the loose feathers off him, turning on his
ass to face the two troopers with a curious grin on his face.

Another
thing he wouldn’t admit was that he was actually excited to see
what Zuru picked out, to see him be able to revel in what was part of
the troopers culture, the decoration of his armor.

Zuru
and Dogma had ended up picking two paints, that was the first thing
he noticed before ever picking out any designs.

Black
and silver.

It
made Obi-Wan chuckle faintly before he took in the designs Zuru was
presenting him with, the pilot propping his chestplate on his knees
for the Jedi to see as the two troopers sat in their undersuits in
front of him.

Quickly,
he glanced over the other pieces laid out around Zuru on the crates
beside him along with the paint cans and brushes.

On the
left breast of the chestplate, a shriek hawk was clearly painted,
black for the body with silver details and somehow Zuru had managed
to make it’s silver and black eyes almost look piercing. Both of
Zuru’s gauntlets were painted fully black with a silver line on the
top, additionally his so was his utility belt with the pouches in
silver.

Amusingly
enough, Zuru had painted an eye in black on the forehead of his
armor, making it seem like he had a third eye and there was a feather
painted on his left pauldron, a homage to Cotton Obi-Wan would
assume.

He had
to hide a little cough when he noticed the crotch plate was painted
entirely black.

Nodding
approvingly, Obi-Wan smirked at Dogma, taking in how the blue had
changed to silver and black. “So, how long until it dries?” He
drawled.

“Two
hours, it’s quick dry,” Zuru answered quickly, grinning. “But I
got another piece you didn’t see.” He stated in excitement,
placing his breastplate down so the paint wouldn’t smear.

“Oh?”
Obi-Wan raised a brow, blinking a bit as Dogma smirked, Zuru reaching
behind the crate he was sitting on to pick something up.

It was
the backplate and Obi-Wan blinked at it before staring, taking in
what Zuru had painted.

It was
wings.

Familiar
wings.

Oh
they were black and silver of course but… Obi-Wan recognized the
shape of those wings anywhere.

They
were Cotton’s wings.

His
wings.

The
wings Obi-Wan’s back had been tattooed with, the tattoo that needed
to be colored in.

Speechless,
Obi-Wan stared at it before slowly lifting his eyes to Zuru.

The
pilot just smiled at him, peering at Obi-Wan over the backplate.

Something
in Obi-Wan’s chest crumbled and with a low noise, he shifted onto
his knees and reached out.

Zuru,
sensing what was going to happen, quickly gave the backplate to
Dogma, barely getting it over in time before Obi-Wan’s arms were
around him, pulling the clone
trooper into his arms and into a tight hug.

Hugging
back equally tightly, Zuru let out a low noise as he settled into
Obi-Wan’s lap, straddling it as he pressed his face into the Jedi’s
hair. “Vi’re jate ori vod. Vi Kelir cuyanir ner jetiise.” He
mumbled, quietly so not to be heard by anyone else.

Obi-Wan
simply nodded, afraid of opening his mouth and making a bigger scene
as he clung to Zuru.

The
first one to get past his walls in years.

His
brother.

Distant Pain, how does obi react to having Dogma transfer to him? Are there other clones that transfer to his unit as well? And you mentioned that Quinlan was looking for info about the Chancellor. How is that going?

Posted on av swmoddy

Pausing, cup at his lip, Obi-Wan stared at the trooper over his cup,
blinking slowly. “…I’m sorry, I think I spaced out there a
moment. What did you say Dogma?” He demanded incredulously.

Because
he couldn’t have heard right, could he?

Dogma
couldn’t have said what Obi-Wan heard…right?

The
other shuffled a bit, standing at Obi-Wan’s bedside as the medic
still hadn’t allowed him out of bed. “I… I have requested a
transfer to your battalion and it was granted, I am now officially
under your command though the paperwork is still in transit.” Dogma
licked his lips but outside of the shuffle, didn’t move from his
parade rest.

Lowering
his cup, Obi-Wan stared at the other before glancing at Zuru and then
back to Dogma. “…Dogma, I don’t have a battalion.” He
carefully pointed out.

Dogma
slumped a bit, looking stricken.

It had
been like this since the start of the war though. Just him, just
Zuru, just black ops missions.

‘But
you’re no longer doing black ops missions are you. You are removed
from them, effective weeks ago by the rest of the council.’ A voice
pointed out that sounded a lot like a very smug Siri as Obi-Wan
turned contemplative, focusing on his cup and the steaming tea.

Would
that mean he had to get a battalion?

The
idea of being responsible for so many was not an idea that sat well
with Obi-Wan, it was one thing to work alongside the troopers.

It was
another to be responsible for their lives, to make sure they
survived.

Obi-Wan
could keep Cotton and Zuru alive, but an entire battalion…

‘But
I can keep Dogma alive…’ He slowly raised his eyes to look at
Dogma, a small huffing laugh escaping him. “Very well, I guess I
have to start somewhere and I imagine the rest of the council won’t
be leashing me down any time soon.” Obi-Wan chuckled quietly,
relaxing against the headboard as Dogma instantly perked up.

“I
won’t let you down sir!” He barked out, lifting his hand in
salute.

“First
off, when we’re alone, you can call me Obi-Wan then Dogma,”
Dogma’s lip twitched a bit and Obi-Wan repressed a chuckle, knowing
fully well why the other was named as he was. “Second, I guess it’s
time I pick a paint huh.” He looked to Zuru.

The
pilot smirked, leaning his elbows on Obi-Wan bed. “Well, my armor
already has black symbols on it but I wouldn’t say no to some
silver.” He teased, winking at Dogma, who shot him a slightly
scandalized look, a twitch in his Force aura betraying his amusement.

“Black
and silver huh…” Obi-Wan mused, lifting the cup to his lips
before grinning. “Well, why not. If I’m stepping out of the dark
to be one of the Jedi peace keepers once more, why not be flashy and
attract some attention.” He glanced to Zuru, the man staring at him
in turn.

Then a
wide grin crossed his face. “Really? I can paint my entire armor in
silver and black if I want?” He shifted closer.

Dogma
looked between them in confusion.

Nodding,
Obi-Wan let out a small chuckle at Zuru’s excitement. “Sure, why
not. Go nuts Zuru.” He encouraged quietly.

“Um,”
Dogma raised his hand, looking a bit uncomfortable at interrupting
but clearly also confused and wanting to know. “Am I… missing
something here sir?” He looked between them, moving closer when
Obi-Wan patted the bed.

Gingerly,
he sat down at Obi-Wan’s bedside, sitting with his thigh up so he
could face Obi-Wan but also see Zuru at his side. “Because of our
black ops status, Zuru hasn’t really been able to paint his armor
like many other vode do,” Obi-Wan explained. “Less chance of
anyone singling him out if they recognize the symbols of his armor. I
am noticeable myself of course but I can also make people forget me
with the Force if strictly necessary.” He took a small sip of his
tea, not mentioning that if push came to shove, Obi-Wan could also
defend himself, both physically and in court, should something
happen.

He
knew he was depriving Zuru of something that belonged to the culture
of the vode, but at the same time, the worry of someone recognizing
and using Zuru… harming him…

No,
that was something Obi-Wan couldn’t live with.

Therefore,
Zuru had only used black paint very sparsely on his armor and Obi-Wan
had used nothing on his own in solidarity with the other.

“Well,
we can go and get armor paint down in the quartermaster bay, I know
there is blue for sure but there is also other colors.” Dogma had
clearly tuned Obi-Wan out a bit in excitement as he gave his focus to
Zuru, both excited by the prospect of fixing up their armors.

‘…I
could get comfortable with this…’ Obi-Wan couldn’t help but
think, Cotton jumping up on the bed to snuggle up to Obi-Wan’s hip,
Zuru and Dogma discussing armor designs and how Dogma would either
need to scrub his blue 501st paint or do two layers to
cover up the blue fully.