Sitting on the chair, Cody stared at his General.

It felt like hours had passed since Kix announcement but it had only been minutes really. The two medics had gone back to work once informing them, Kix splitting from his fellow medic to take care of his own General, Skywalker going into shock at the announcement.

And Cody honestly didn’t blame him.

Two months pregnant and the General was so malnourished…

It was more severe than they even suspected when the other fell flat on his face in the hall, breaking his nose, though thankfully that had been among the first things Helix had fixed when they brought the General to the medbay.

He had quickly set it and cleaned up the blood.

And with the results of their assessment and tests, they had also gotten an IV bag up and running, something about glucose and vitamin levels and whatnot. Cody wasn’t a medic, he didn’t understand the terminology, only that it helped.

Bic ni skana’din!

The worst of this entire thing was that Cody shared part of the blame, their General needed people around him.

Skywalker had taken a moment to explain, some kind of odd hormone thing that the General released that messed up his brain chemistry but he had found a workaround by being around people, eating with them, sleeping in the same room and so on.

And Cody had lowkey known?

It had been talked about, he and some of the other clone command of the 212th.

Something to be on the guard about…

‘Apparently just because we’re clones, doesn’t mean we can’t be emotionally compromised and fuck up.’ He thought bitterly to himself. He should have remembered, but he had just been so… angry.

No, not angry. Anger didn’t cover the feeling in his chest, the convoluted mix of sadness, hurt, relief and rage that seemed to just marinade in his chest every time he looked at his General.

Cody understood duty.

He lived for duty after all, his duty was the war and the effort and all the complications it brought.

But it still hurt, that General Kenobi, that Obi-Wan could pretend to be dead, to let them bury him and go weeks letting them think he was dead…

It had just been so kriffing painful and Cody hadn’t wanted to do something that would compromise himself or the 212th.

So he had stuck to professionalism.

When he had nothing else, he at least had that, he’d work with Obi-Wan, make sure the 212th ran like clockwork and look out for his vode.

And he’d work through his own emotions but he had needed… distance.

The entire 212th except for the shinys had needed distance and now they felt guilty, the sight of their Jedi, face down, bleeding onto the durasteel due to a broken nose…

And that was why Waxer and Boil had been spying on the med appointment, Cody knew they had, had heard the two whisper to each other from behind the door and heard the quiet gasp at Kix announcement.

He hadn’t wanted to turn his own vode in to Skywalker though and honestly…

They needed to know.

Their General was a mess of a man right now and they were all partly to blame.

No person managed isolation well and Obi-Wan had been living with it since he got back, had not complained and only let them isolate him even as he gave them lingering, longing looks before departing.

Haar’chak!

Sitting forward, Cody clasped his hands together while resting his elbows on his knees, resisting the urge to reach out and cling to the General’s skinny looking hand.

There was another thing that bothered him.

Terrified him if he was honest.

The time frame Kix had produced.

The fetus.

Apparently it was about two months old or about so and kark did Cody hope that Kix was wrong. Because if that time frame was right, that would put the conception of the fetus inside of the General smack dab in the middle of the Hardeen mission.

And Cody, for all that he’s been feeling hurt and maybe even a bit betrayed after the mission the other had taken on, he still knows his General.

His General wouldn’t have engaged in a casual dalliance in such a critical moment.

In that time frame, he was pretending to be his own murderer, he was sent to jail and he was dealing with criminals and later on violent, murderous bounty hunters that would sell him out for a cracker, much less a credit.

And then there was Dooku…

No, Cody knows his General.

And if Kix time frame is correct, then he fears what happened to his General while they weren’t there. Fears what the other might not have told anyone, what he’s kept locked inside because of how isolated he was.

Cody fears that his General was raped while acting his role as Rako Hardeen.

And the idea makes him sick.

Because they should have protected him.

But they weren’t there and they weren’t there again after.

Cody doesn’t know what to do with the information he’s gathering, what he’s theorizing. A part of him hopes that Kix has made a mistake, that the fetus is perhaps older even if its a miracle that it has survived to now considering the Hardeen fiasco.

A different part of him hopes that Obi-Wan had a casual fling or that he’s mistaking and Obi-Wan is the type to have a random encounter during such a mission.

But deep down… he knows.

He knows and it makes him feel so sick.

Glancing to see where Skywalker and the others are, Cody unclasps his hands as Kix and Ahsoka are busy fussing over Skywalker, reaching out under Helix eyes to gently run the back of his knuckles over Obi-Wan’s cheek, brushing his hair back behind an ear in a gentle motion.

The 212th loves their General, its why it hurt so much to know he had deceived them in such a gruesome manner.

They had been hurt…and now they pay the price for their actions.

‘I’m sorry General… we’ll… we’ll make sure you’re alright after this. We’ll talk, properly… poor Obi-Wan, our Obi-Wan…’ Cody felt his face crumble, Helix turning away while biting his lip bloody.

By the time the rest of the room had fixed themselves up, the two members of 212th were once more blank slates of professionalism, Cody sitting at Obi-Wan’s side and Helix checking on the IV line.

Just waiting for their Jedi to wake up.

Translation:

Bic ni skana’din = expression of being angry, repelled or *That really ticks me off.*

Haar’chak = Damn it