Chapter Text
The first thought Cody has when his eyes fly open and his body is already tense with panic is-- I'm late. The ongoing battle at Anaxes has been taking it out of everyone, and sleep is found wherever sleep can be achieved.
It took a moment for the clone commander to realize that he is not curled up in the usual corner of General Kenobi's office— the one Cody has been utilizing for his tooka naps since the Jedi hardly ever chooses to do his work there.
The next moment brings the realization that he can't move.
And the next… that everything hurts.
It's not the pain or the pinning that makes him remember where he is. It's the putrid smell of fuel wafting from somewhere that is definitely not its designated tank.
Fuel.
Gunship.
"We've been hit! Mayday!"
The impact made his bones feel like they would shatter from the reverberations, and he tried to grab for a—
Fire.
Smoke.
Battle droids...
...closing in—
"Cody!" the voice of a brother forces the commander to stop his eyes from fluttering shut. He squints through the thick smoke billowing from somewhere beneath the LAAT— a place his lower half also happens to be trapped, which cannot be good. It hurts, but not nearly as much as Cody feels like it should hurt.
While the situation itself isn't lucky, the commander is fortunate enough to not be close enough to the fire to feel more than its radiating heat. Not close enough to be burned— at least not yet. He can feel the durasteel heating by the minute. Right now it’s tolerable. The same may not be said in a few minutes.
Above the roar of the furious flames, Cody doesn't hear too much else besides the faint indication that people are talking— good, good that means others aren't trapped down here too... The others are okay...
Someone is barking orders. Cody can only assume it's Rex or Kix by the urgency in the tone. Maybe both. He's desperately trying to keep his eyes open, but the irritation of the smoke is making it difficult. I just need to hold on. They might need me to spot their extraction. They might—
The murmurs fall silent, instead replaced by a sudden creak in the durasteel plates of the gunship. Cody's heart is already pounding with the boost of adrenaline, but now it feels like it might burst right out of his chest. His previous optimism tanks, replaced by a rare feeling of dread that makes his body start to quiver.
For some reason, his mind goes to the stack of datapads he left on General Kenobi's desk. Reports he neglected to finish before Clone Force 99 came barreling onto their landing strip. He meant to tell Kenobi where he left them but didn't find the time.
What a thing to be worrying about when I'm about to die, Cody chuckles, but it turns into a cough. Though, giving the general those pads would've meant I could have said goodbye.
Another creak, but this time the ship dips harder into his pelvis. His previous sentiments about the pain not being too bad are immediately regretful. Cody's scream gets caught in his throat, floating black dots finally overtake his vision. He doesn't fall unconscious as much as he wishes he would. The pressure thankfully doesn't last, and the next moment the weight of the LAAT vanishes.
The pain doesn’t stop, though. It was like the pressure was keeping him whole. The knife ironically staying in the wound to keep the artery from leaking too quickly. Nausea filled him as blurry figures approached, their muddled words filled with worry and questions Cody did not have the capacity to answer. All her could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears droning out the ringing that had been accompanying him since the blast that took down the gunship.
Hands grab him— roughly at first, until there’s yelling and he’s gently released. In that pause, Cody stares at the smoggy sky and tries to get a hold of his breathing. In and out. Try not to shake too much. Try not to scare them.
The pain turns into numbness. Cody isn’t sure that’s a good sign, but it at least gives him the brevity he needs to get through whatever happens next.
Kix hardly has time to be amazed by Wrecker's show of impressive strength. As integral as it was to get the commander out from beneath the flaming LAAT, the medic is now frantically searching through his med bag that thankfully survived the crash.
He tries not to think about the circumstances if his bag had not made it out. He tries to not think about how he would have had to helplessly watch Cody die.
I'm getting ahead of myself.
A smaller voice that Kix usually doesn't give the time of day whispers, 'Cody could still die'. Kix has seen it plenty of times by this point in the war. Troopers in ship crashes or the unlucky times when natural disasters strike. Even when they manage to get those men out, it's a race against the clock.
The gunship is flipped to its other side. Wrecker goes to scoop Cody up, and Kix jumps up in protest.
“Wrecker, wait!” he yells. The trooper freezes, looking up at Kix, “His spine could be unstable.”
“Better hurry, Kix. Fuel tank’s gonna go any minute.”
Kix swears to himself and grabs his bag, stumbling down the impression their crash made in the dirt. Cody isn't moving. Just staring up at the sky with a fixed gaze that makes Kix’s stomach turn. Kix settles down at his side, pulling out his instruments.
“How long do we have?” he asks Wrecker.
“Uhhh… at this rate… Two minutes? Maybe?”
“Dammit. It would be safer to move the gunship than Cody right now,” he says to himself.
“Oh. That’s a good idea,” Wrecker chuckles, and mosies over to the burning ship.
“Wrecker I was kidd—” Kix starts, but the clone is already squatting at the less on-fire end of the ship. With a hefty heave, the ship goes flying, tumbling a good fifty yards away. Just in time, it seems— the moment it becomes stationary it ignites.
Wrecker turns around, pulling his helmet off to reveal a satisfied smile.
“Oh…” Kix blinks away his surprise. He never knows what to expect from the 99’s, but he is sure glad they were around this time. “Good work, Wrecker.”
He turns back to Cody and starts his assessment. The clock is already ticking.
"Kix," Cody coughs, surprisingly still coherent despite the way his left pupil is blown.
"Tell me where it hurts, Cody," Kix asks while he still has the chance. He removes Cody's armor enough to fit a C-collar and attaches all the vital monitors. Upon first glance, there don't seem to be many external injuries. He has a few shallow cuts on his cheek and neck which have already clotted for the most part. His white armor remains white. Blacks cool and wet to the touch, but from sweat, not blood. Good, good, this is good.
"Legs," the commander groans.
Kix realizes one of the Clone Force 99 boys has taken a place on the other side of Cody. The goggled one. He is about to give him a curt dismissal when Tech surprises him, pulling out a medical scanner of his own and running it down Cody's legs.
"Scan shows no significant breaks," Tech reports, his goggles making his eyes look wide and innocent.
Kix nods and moves on to the next step of his vital monitors. "Medic?"
"I am trained in basic emergency field medicine."
"Well let's hope things stay basic then."
Almost as soon as he says it, Cody gasps, and his eyes roll back in his head. Kix curses the golden rule of critical care medicine— never comment on what bad things aren't happening. Usually, he knows better.
"Shit," Kix watches as Cody's blood pressure and O2 saturation tank, the monitor beeping wildly. "He's hypotensive and going into respiratory distress. Hand me that intubation kit,"
Tech is quick to dig through the med bag and pull out a laryngoscope and endotracheal tube. It's a relief that someone else here knows enough to assist. As he positions himself behind Cody's head, he momentarily becomes aware of the small crowd arced around their position.
"I sure hope some of you rubberneckers are watching our perimeter," Kix says as he slips the curved blade of the laryngoscope down Cody's throat and slips the tube through the opening. His pointed remark thins the crowd, Rex throwing his worry for Cody into focus on the mission.
"You know MTP?" he asks Tech.
"Major transfusion protocol? Yes."
"There are some 16 gauges in the side pocket. If the jugular doesn't work, do an IO in the proximal tibia... I gotta check his abdomen." Kix removes the rest of Cody's upper armor and slices the shirt of his blacks up the center of his chest. "Sorry, sir, you know I'm only doing this 'cause I have to."
Cody's bare chest exposes a whole new host of problems. Deep red and purple splotches blossom across his hip and up his side starting somewhere beneath the waistband of his blacks.
"Tech," the other clone is finishing up the major transfusion protocol ports, his eyes flickering up to Kix. "Did you scan his hips too?"
Tech's eyes widen, which is answer enough. Kix quickly pulls a pelvic binder from the med bag. Cody must have broken his pelvic ring in the crash, which would be why he’s going into shock.
"Rex, how close is our medevac?"
"Other problems right now, Kix," the captain replies in a tight tone, and the medic looks up in time to see movement on the horizon paired with the familiar echo of battle droids marching.
"Just keep them the hell away from us. Cody isn't stable enough to move yet."
Tech has disappeared as quickly as he appeared. Now Jesse falls to the goggled clone's old spot. His eyes are wide looking at the bruising that peeks out from the tight straps across Cody's hips. Jesse is not a medic, but all ARC troopers are trained enough to get by.
"Commander's bleeding internally, quickly approaching hemodynamic instability, but I don't have an ultrasound to confirm how much or how quickly. I got a binder on him to try and slow it, and I'm prepping some crystalloid infusions, but if evac doesn't get here soon we'll have to start doing whole blood transfusions and..." Kix lets out a breath of frustration, starting to go through the motions of palpation, percussion, and auscultation to feel like he's still doing something even though Cody's oxygen saturations have evened out with the help of the respirator. "Jesse, there's not much I can do for him with what we got here. I gotta get him into a CT to see how bad the bleeding is. If he managed to sever any of the major vessels I don't think—"
"Woah woah woah, there Kix," Jesse reaches over to put a hand on the medic's shoulder. "We all know you're taking good care of Cody and doin' all you can." The ARC's gaze flickers to the sound and light show of blaster fire on the other side of the canyon. Looks like Clone Force 99 has taken control of things while Jesse and Rex stay back to guard their man down. Jesse meets his eyes again with sympathy and understanding. "You think we can rig something to move him once the four-man army is finished?"
Kix sighs, sitting back on his heels as he finishes the respiratory triage. "If I can get him stable with the infusions, we can backboard him. Only if we need to move him, though."
"We'll have to," it's Rex who speaks this time with his expert eyes scanning the canyon that surrounds them and the pillar of smoke from the on-fire gunship. "Our position is compromised as it is and the Seppies will be sending reinforcements."
"How much time I got?" Kix is already moving to start the first round of infusions. Jesse clears out of his way.
"ASAP, buddy. I'll get the boys to find a makeshift backboard."
Kix begins the infusion of the crystalloid fluid to try and get Cody's blood volume up. His pressure is still low, but most stable since he put the pelvic binder on. The fact that the measure worked is both a relief and a new stress in the back of the medic's mind. The bleeding is definitely happening there, and there is a lot that could go wrong. Too much.
The medic has reached the end of the line of things he can do now. All he do is wait and hope that Cody's vitals come up enough before another platoon of clankers descends on their vulnerable position. He brushes away the soot from his commander's cheek. It only makes him look paler. Closer to what Kix fears deep down— the tube down his throat isn't helping that mental image.
It's ironic how Kix used to get nervous about treating his commanding officers because he was afraid he'd have to pull med bay rank. Now, the queasiness in his stomach, as he looks at the Marshall Commander, is out of fear that he won't get the chance to put on his best stony face and scold him into compliance.
"Come on, Cody," Kix pleads under his breath. The commander's pressure is still dropping. Someone calls out about finding a piece of the wreckage that would work as a backboard. Another suggests a place a little ways up with better cover they could go to. He's not ready, he needs more time, Kix wants to yell. He grabs Cody's hand instead. "Keep fighting, commander."
Rex keeps his helmet on as Cody is carefully transferred from the ground to a piece of scrap durasteel Wrecker peeled off the crashed LAAT wing. He keeps it on as they trek through the carnage Clone Force 99 caused upon the attack battalion of battle droids. It stays on even when they reach cover.
He'd rather not let the others see the dread he knows is written plainly across his features.
Kix was able to stabilize Cody enough for him to be moved, but Rex can see the way the medic is hovering. He refused to help with the transport so both hands could be free.
"Just in case," Kix had said.
Rex was tempted to ask just in case of what? But good sense and way too much experience with wounded has taught him to never ask what worse-case scenarios fester in the haunted minds of field medics.
It's only when the others have gathered by the fire and he's shielded beneath the shade of a leafy tree that Rex finally removes his bucket and settles down next to Cody's still form.
It was only this morning that Cody caught the tail end of his melancholy. "Sometimes in war, it's hard to be the one that survives," the commander had said, speaking from his own extensive experience.
This morning they were reminiscing on the brothers they had lost. Now Cody lays with a tube down his throat.
Rex isn't ready to be the only one who survives from that holo of him, Cody, Fives, and Echo.
"Hang in there, Cody," Rex says softly, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. He recoils in surprise. Cody is shaking, a sheen of cold sweat covering his skin. The captain staggers up, calling Kix over with as little panic as he can manage.
"What is it?" the medic asks as he falls to Cody's side and starts checking all of the commander's IVs and monitors.
"He's shaking and cold and—"
"In shock," Kix mutters, tucking the blanket lying over Cody a little tighter around his body. "I know."
Rex's stomach sinks. "You know?"
Kix sighs, organizing the array of tubes and wires attached to their fallen brother in lieu of actually making eye contact with Rex.
"Already took some units from Jesse and myself. If Cody is this late into shock, I should start the first transfusion," Kix pulls two pouches of dark red blood from his bag. Finally, he looks at Rex. The exhaustion and dread that matches Rex's own is alarming to see on the face of their best medic. "Please tell me the medevac gave an ETA."
"All I know is it'll be soon, Kix."
That ignites the characteristic fire Rex is used to seeing in Kix's eyes.
"Soon? Do they mean soon as on their way? Or is the same soon as: Cody will die soon if I can't get him into a CT, and probably emergency surgery to stop this bleeding," Rex crouches down to squeeze Kix's shoulder. He lets out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't... I just don't want..."
"You've seen the worst of this war, brother. It's hard for me to even see Cody like this. I can't imagine having to treat him, too. Don't feel like you have to hold back what you're feeling. Not right now. Not with me."
The fire fades back into solemnness. Kix finishes hanging the unit of blood and tilts his head back to rest against Rex's shoulder bell. The captain is reminded of the first time he met Kix as a shiny. A kid filled to the brim with righteous fury and impressive confidence. He still holds those qualities— especially the confidence— but the war has dimmed him. The same way it's muted most of the men by now.
"I'll feel better once he isn't strapped to a damn LAAT wing."
Rex has a feeling that only scratches the surface of Kix's worries. He doesn't push it, though. Just gives him another supportive squeeze.
Kix thinks he might cry when the med shuttle appears across the horizon.
Cody is on the last unit of blood Kix was able to take before the others headed out. After Tech confirmed Clone Force 99's blood types were the same and wouldn't put Cody into hemolytic shock on top of his hypovolemic shock, Wrecker volunteered himself as a donor. His greater body mass meant a single unit would be a drop in the bucket.
So far, it's worked. Cody's pressure is still low but holding. He even woke up a few times. Only for a few seconds, and he spent most of it fighting against the intubation-- Kix would have removed it if he didn't know for a fact the commander was headed into surgery the moment they reached the med center.
Clone Force 99's willingness to help was an olive branch of sorts after a spat that nearly turned to a brawl. Kix can't say he particularly likes the attitudes of Clone Force 99. They're effective in battle, yes, but he'd be satisfied never accompanying another mission of theirs anytime soon. Say what you will about them, but they do care about Commander Cody despite their frequent sneers about "regs".
It's a story Kix will have to ask about another time. When Cody wakes up. Because he will wake up.