Work Text:
Skywalker’s eyes are chips of blue ice as he stares straight ahead, clutching his padawan against his broad chest. Ahsoka is asleep, exhausted and too small, bundled up in his Master’s outer robes.
Rex won’t meet anyone’s eyes as he is escorted towards his CMO. He doesn’t make a sound in spite of his obvious injuries.
Wolffe’s men are efficient and quiet, mostly muttering into internal helmet comms. Cody listens, can’t not listen even though the content makes him willing to commandeer the largest of Republic’s destroyers and ship out to blast those fucking slavers into oblivion.
His General is battered and bruised and finally strapped on a hovercot, under the watchful eyes of his own CMO. Kenobi said Rex had it worse but Cody doesn’t think there really is a competition in this.
Cody keeps his bucket on and does his job. Keeps every thought of Rex’s empty eyes and abused body away, hidden in that corner of his mind he rarely has courage to filter through.
He glances at Skywalker and their eyes lock through Cody’s visor. He wonders if it’s true what he once heard from Fox who knows things through the Chancellor’s hidden files. He wonders if it’s true the young Jedi was once a slave. He would’ve thought it impossible but seeing the cold rage burning in Skywalker’s gaze he’s suddenly not that certain.
As the emergency light flickers over the Jedi’s face his eyes flash yellow. An unnerving illusion.
He thinks Skywalker would come with him to destroy the Zygerrians for good if he asked. The Jedi hugs Ahsoka closer and keeps his gaze on Cody and –nods.
Well. Projecting much. Cody raises his shields and shrugs apologetically. Skywalker smiles small and tightlipped and it doesn’t reach his eyes.
Cody needs to see Rex but he also needs to–
His comm chimes. Kenobi. Wanting to debrief or just to talk. He obeys, as good commanders do.
__________
This part of medbay is very quiet and has lights that are partially dimmed. Kix has Rex lying on a cot and Cody can see the tightness of Rex’s shoulders, the slight shivering of his body even though his back is turned. Kix is crouching down by him and seems to be talking quietly.
Cody clears his throat. The medic stands up, sighs. He doesn’t look happy about seeing Cody.
“Commander. The Captain needs rest. He’s gone through enough.”
Cody steps right into the medic’s space, knows he’s slightly larger and on edge and could just pull rank. He tries his very best to rein in his anger. This is not Kix’s fault.
“I know. I talked to my General. I need to talk to Rex. Now. So unless your presence is mandatory, medically, I suggest you take a short break.”
Kix narrows his eyes, dangerously. Fearless. Cody has always liked the absolute feral loyalness of Rex’s men. He sighs, takes hold of Kix’s shoulder.
“Dismissed. I’ll look after Rex for a while.”
Rex’s shoulder’s hitch, minutely. Kix stares at Cody, eyes hard. He doesn’t leave until Rex whispers, hoarse and so quiet Cody’s heart is shredded to pieces, “it’s alright.”
Cody swallows down bile and blind rage and sits down, reaching out a hand but stopping it just until it lands on Rex’s back. He’s not certain if a sudden touch would be welcome.
Rex swears, in a language Cody doesn’t know. He waits.
“It’s Togruti for fuck,” Rex offers finally. Cody hums, tries to sound politely interested and calm. He’s annoyed with himself when he realizes he’s hovering, useless and so fucking sorry and so fucking angry at what Rex has had to live through.
“I–”
“Look I’m fine I–”
More silence. Rex’s breathing is too shallow, short gasping pants and suddenly he turns, lightning quick and grabs Cody by the arms only to let go immediately, as though he was burned. He stares straight ahead, with glazed unseeing eyes.
“I – they made General Kenobi –” he pulls his knees against his chest and seems to gather himself. Rex straightens, faces Cody and says, stern and eyes blank. “I should’ve been able to protect your General. I fucking failed him, I failed you. I’m sorry.”
Cody doesn't understand. He used to be quick on the uptake but at the moment his mind is sluggish and Force help him he has no idea what Rex even means.
“Um?”
Rex averts his eyes. “I’ll accept whatever disciplinary action is necessary. Sir.”
Cody’s brain finally comes back online and he drops to his knees, down on the cold duracrete floor and stares up at Rex, frightened and so ashamed Rex would even think Cody plans to punish him.
The idea makes him sick.
“Rex, would you look at me?” Honey-amber eyes snap at his face, carefully emotionless. ”Would you tell me what you mean? Please? Rex?”
A shiver. Rex looks pained but he swallows and nods. “Of course. Sir–they made me–they wanted Kenobi to obey and they tried– and I should have.”
Cody doesn’t dare to move. This was not what he meant but he can’t get the words out so he just stares, knuckles white as he grips the edge of the cot.
Rex’s voice breaks.
“They fucking wanted me kneel in front of them and told me what –shit. Sorry. What I am. What a good little slave I am; pretty and also useful.”
Walking on his knees, Cody inches as close to Rex as he can. Slowly, he moves his hands, palms up and keeps eye contact, murmuring softly something, anything to make Rex listen.
Rex is not done.
“And. I said no. That I’m not and I won’t. And they punished the General for that. Humiliated him and worse.” Rex’s eyes are feverish and his voice a low, enraged hiss. Cody swallows, faces Rex’s burning glare. ”And you know what the most fucked up part is? Have you ever thought about it, Sir? The thing those fuckers laughed about while they shoved those electrostaffs on the General’s skin, making him scream? The thing is I am a slave –all of us are. Slaves of the Republic. Oh fuck.” Rex looks horrified at his ramblings and stares at the wall behind Cody with empty, distant eyes but Cody only feels calm acceptance. Nothing Rex says is untrue.
“Rex. May I touch you?”
The man in front of him jerks. “Why would you…?” He blinks, momentarily distracted.
Cody places his hands on Rex’s thighs, stays down in front of him, on his knees. It feels right.
“I owe the life and sanity of my General to you. He told me what you went through, for him, because of him. How you helped him pull through, how you managed to do what was necessary in the end when he was weak. How proud he was, when you didn’t let them break you. His own words, Captain. Rex.”
Rex stares, wide-eyed and stunned into silence. Good. Cody has finally found his words and he lets them flow.
“It’s not about Kenobi though. I worried about you. First and foremost about you and it’s probably a violation of military protocol but I just needed you to live.” Cody’s voice is thick and rough, gets stuck in his throat. He swallows. “I need you to live. Because I need. You.”
Rex’s exhale is weak and shaky. He grabs Cody’s shoulder and tries to pull him up but Cody resists, almost dragging Rex down with him. That won’t do.
He takes a steadying breath.
“This is how I see you. You’re fucking strong and clever and it takes more than some corrupted sentient-trafficing scum to break you. You’re so fucking– “
He shouldn't say that. This. But there really is nothing to lose and he almost lost Rex and he needs Rex to know.
“... you’re so fucking amazing I feel like my place is here, on my knees so I can look up at you and see the one, the fucking one, truly good thing in my life that’s you.”
He swallows. ”I don’t think I could go on doing this without –you. Knowing you’re out there, fighting. Alive.”
There’s something moist in Rex’s eyes and he breathes rapidly, shallowly a few times until he takes Cody’s face between his hands and presses their foreheads together. Their breaths mingle and Cody lifts his hands carefully, telegraphing his action and gently curls his fingers over the nape of Rex’s neck.
Rex’s pulse is fast under his thumb but it’s there and Cody’s next exhale sounds very much like a sob, wet and ugly.
Relief is like the first breath of fresh air after a week in filthy trenches. It’s like water sliding down your back and washing grime and blood and tension away. It’s like the wonder in Skywalker’s padawan’s eyes when she stares at the beauty of a nebula in deep space.
Relief is like Rex’s lips against his own, tentative and chapped and something Cody doesn’t ever wanna let go. Rex slides down from the cot, ignoring his bruises and burns and bandages and lands onto Cody’s lap. He wraps his arms around Cody’s shoulders, kissing him harder, desperate, until blood trickes from his split lip and stains his chin.
Cody licks over the cut, holds Rex tighter and feels something hard and steely lock in place inside him. Rex is his and survived this and Cody is smart and dangerous. From now on, he’ll do his absolute best to make sure Rex’s heart keeps beating as long as possible.
He thinks about Skywalker’s cold rage-filled eyes and thinks about the words any means necessary and as his hands carefully caress Rex’s back he embraces this new understanding of his – their – lives.
He’ll fight to keep Rex and to keep on surviving. No matter what it’ll cost him.