Work Text:
It’s been three weeks since Utapau, three weeks since Order Sixty-Six, when he’s finally found. And it’s not the Empire that finds him.
He’s sitting on the ground, resting after a patrol sweep of the area, helmet resting beside him. He sees the transport land, but pays it no mind, thinking that it’s of minimal importance. It’s so far away, after all, and he’s just one man alone in this barren waste of a landscape. Out here, he doesn’t matter. He has no name, no number.
It’s only when he tunes out the world around him, and blinks it back into focus, and— time has definitely passed, because there’s shaking, warm hands gently encompassing his face. On top of that, he’s looking into a mirror, only the man in the mirror is blond, and the man in the mirror is—
“Rex?” he bites out, the name feeling heavy on his tongue, “....Rex’ika?” His voice is hoarse, gruff, worn from disuse, and from the fact that last time he spoke, he was yelling out orders.
“’S’me, Codes.”
An arm slips around his shoulders, helps ease him to his feet. He’s tucked against Rex’s flank, and he stumbles as soon as the Captain begins to walk. But his vod’ika has his back, his vod’ika came for him, won’t let him fall. Rex came for him, came and found him... Rex will never leave him behind. He’s grateful... he’s so grateful, and he says it over and over again as his vod’ika escorts him to an awaiting transport.
Rex just smiles and pats his shoulder, leads him up the ramp of the transport.
It’s only once they’re within the cargo hold, and Kix — such a skilled medic, such deft, gentle hands, despite the firm voice that brooks no arguments — is checking him over, that Rex finally speaks to him. Tells him that now it’s his turn to look after Cody, in return for all the times Cody looked after him, while they were just cadets on Kamino.
Maybe... maybe things will be okay.
Cody trembles in Rex’s arms. He’s exhausted: haggard and pale and so unlike the sturdy, fierce warrior that Rex has come to know so well. It’s wrong, so wrong, and it hurts. But this... the way Cody is... there’s not much that can be done, according to Kix’s summation. The medic had explained that while Cody could get better physically, it was his mental state that had Kix more concerned.
He’s been under the influence of the chip for so long, since the order went out. We have no idea what kind of effects it’s had on his mind. He may not even be himself. At least not for awhile, anyway. My opinion is, do all you can to bring him back. Look after him.
Rex is nothing if not determined, nothing if not steadfast. He’ll do whatever it takes to take care of his ori’vod. He has all the time in the world, now, after all.
He loves his brothers more than anything else in the entire galaxy; he’ll stop at nothing to protect them, to guide them, to make sure they’re okay. Whatever it takes, he’ll do it. So piece by piece, he’ll put Cody back together. Piece by piece, he’ll help his brother find himself again.
So the Captain hushes the CC as his brother moans piteously, runs a hand through Cody’s hair, sweeping his other hand on Cody’s back in long, soothing patterns. His ori’vod presses against him, unsteady, uncertain, unwell. He’s warm, almost uncomfortably so; Kix had observed that Cody was running a low fever, his body and his mind fighting, fighting so hard, the chip battling both and currently winning.
It’s taken its toll on the Commander, the wandering, the lack of orders, the loss of direction. He’s a shadow of his former self, but Rex knows his beloved ori’vod is in there somewhere. He’ll find him, kriff it all; he owes Cody that much.
Cody shudders, stills.
Rex can feel his ori’vod’s uneven breathing, and he’s not sure if it’s due to the man fighting against the chip’s influence, or struggling not to break down and let loose a torrent of emotions. It’s all he can do to squeeze Cody’s shoulders, to murmur softly to him in Mando’a.
I’m here, you’re safe, I’ve got you.
That’s when the tears start to fall.
Rex feels a wetness against his shirt, notices his ori’vod burying his face into the crook of his neck, hears Cody’s breathing hitch. Cody’s tired, so so tired, he knows — Cody’d never let himself go, back during the war, back when there was so much to do, Cody’d always been a shining example even when other commanders such as himself and Wolffe have broken down, Cody’d always been the one to keep everyone together, no matter the cost to his own self — and he knows also that his ori’vod has been too strong for too damn long.
He cards his fingers through Cody’s hair again, cradles the CC close, whispers gentle reassurance. He feels his heart ache as Cody starts to sob, his cries desperate, his body shaking, shaking... and he can’t stop himself from crying, too. It hurts so much to hear his beloved brother to lose control, to weep openly, to lay bare his emotions. And so he cries in sympathy — but also because he’s never let go for at least six months, and he can’t keep it in any longer.
One of Cody’s hands gently grips the back of his neck, and he slumps against his brother just as much as his brother slumps against him. And together, together they cry, they mourn, and let go of what they’ve held inside for so long.
“You look better.” Rex remarks three days later, as Cody joins him for breakfast. He scrutinizes his ori’vod carefully, as the CC settles down beside him, kicking his feet up on the table and crossing them at the ankles. He looks less tired, more alert... more like himself than he’s been in a long time.
“Feel better, too.” Cody answers, shovelling a spoonful of porridge... slop... into his mouth. He shrugs a shoulder, makes a face at the taste, and sighs. “It was like I was stuck in a tangled web of fog, if that makes sense. But now that’s cleared. Mostly, anyway.”
“Can’t say I know how it feels, but it sounds unpleasant. Disorienting.” Rex rubs the back of his neck and sighs as he finishes off his own bowl of porridge. It’s gross, but it’s all they have aside from ration bars, and at least it’s nutritious. He leans an elbow on the table, pivots to face his brother. “I’m glad you’re coming back to yourself.”
Cody meets his gaze steadily, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks for not givin’ up on me.” He clasps Rex’s wrist, squeezes gently. “Means a lot.”
“Hey, ‘s’what brothers are for.” The CT inclines his head. “I’d never turn my back on you, Codes. You taught me a lot, as a cadet; least I could do was help you find you again, to return the favour.”
His ori’vod slaps the table with an open palm, a noise of fond frustration escaping the back of his throat. “Kriff, Rex’ika, how many times do I have to tell ya, you don’t owe me a damn thing!” he says, exasperated, giving a shake of his head. His tone softens, as he continues, “We’re brothers... So we’ll always be equal. Does that sound fair to you?”
Rex won’t pretend to ignore the way his eyes suddenly sting. His free hand curls around Cody’s wrist, connected, brothers. “Sure, Cody. Sounds fair to me alright.”