Chapter Text
Your life is blissful nowadays. You and Fives live peacefully in the GAR Commons, which houses the entire 501st battalion. The communal building complex has multiple accommodations, including studios, one bedrooms, and multi-rooms that will fit up to four clone troopers at a time. There’s also a community mess hall, medbay, shooting range, weight room, and even a courtyard with benches and flowers to enjoy. For GAR standards, it’s a nice place to live.
As an ARC Trooper, Fives was able to swipe himself a one bedroom for the two of you. It’s a little thing, but it’s cozy and it’s spacious enough for all of your needs. When you first moved in, you completely fell in love with its simplistic charm. It has all of the necessities, a bedroom, refresher, kitchen, living area, and lots of closet space. You quickly set to work making it a home for you and Fives by adding pictures, a couple decorative pillows, and some nice curtains.
There’s not much else you could ask for to complete your little world. The life of a clone trooper’s wife isn’t always the best, but you never let yourself dwell on the unpredictable aspects of the war. Some days Fives will wake up and be gone for sixty-five rotations and other times he will wake up and be gone for two rotations. Better still, some days he wakes up and doesn’t have to go anywhere. Those are your favorite days, the ones where you get him all to yourself.
Everything is pretty quiet at the moment. Fives hasn’t gone out on assignment for eighty rotations, which is his longest base assignment on record. Although, he still has duties at the GAR headquarters. Sometimes he trains the shinies and other times he has local missions, but at the minimum, he still makes it home for dinner every night. Well, almost every night. Once and a while, he’ll kick back at 79s with the boys and drink late into the night like old times.
Fives isn’t the party boy he used to be, so you find it funny when he makes an attempt. When you first met him at 79s, he was wild, rowdy, and an absolute terrible flirt. He tried time and time again to get you to go out on a date with him using cheesy pick-up lines, but they never worked. Eventually, he stopped trying, and you found yourself missing his playful advances. You thought he was charming and funny, and adored his hearty laugh. Finally, you caved and began dating.
Now married, he spends more time at home and less time at the bar. Neither of you know when he will ship out again, so it’s important to spend quality time together as a couple when he is at home. This particular evening is brimming with relaxation while you watch the latest holo-film. Both of you are snuggling in bed, your head resting on his shoulder while he holds a bowl of popcorn on his chest. You put your hand in the bowl, take a few pieces, and pop them into your mouth.
“He’s going to die,” You say while munching away.
Fives cocks his head, “You think?”
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” You nod.
“Why do you say that?” Fives asks while grabbing a handful of popcorn.
“They’ve built him up way too much to let him live,” You point out while gesturing towards the holo-film.
“Brutal,” Fives shakes his head.
“I know right?” You chuckle and toss more popcorn into your mouth.
As the holo-film draws to its conclusion, you begin to doze. You nod off repeatedly, all the while Fives giggles to himself at your adorable attempts to stay awake. He turns his head to look at your sleeping face and plants a small kiss on your temple. He flexes, stretching his legs, and carefully lifts you off his shoulder to lay you down without waking you. He turns the holo-film off as the credits roll and gets up to bring the popcorn bowl into the kitchen.
He returns to bed and crawls in next to you, spooning your back tightly against his chest and draping an arm across your stomach. He breathes deeply, inhaling the faint scent of your gardenia and jasmine shampoo before snuggling in for the night. But, just as he gets comfortable, you shift under his arm. He shifts with you and readjusts. A couple minutes later, you shift again. He sighs and repositions himself to accommodate you. The third time you squirm is when he breaks the silence.
“What’s the matter?” He mumbles into his pillow.
“Do you smell that?” You ask as you scrunch your nose. You can smell a putrid odor in the air, but you can’t figure out where it’s coming from.
“Smell what?” Fives takes a whiff, but all he can smell is your shampoo and maybe something else mixed in with it.
“That smell,” You answer in annoyance as you roll out of his arm’s hold and onto your back. “You don’t smell it?”
“I don’t smell anything but you,” Fives laughs as he props himself up on his elbow.
Your face scrunches in repulsion of his movement and you pinch your nose, “It’s you!”
“Me?!” Fives exclaims, a mix of surprise and confusion.
“When was the last time you showered?” You ask in disgust.
He blinks in bewilderment at your question, “This morning.”
“I don’t believe you,” You argue while sitting up. “You smell awful.”
“You were there,” He reminds you with a sigh. “In the shower, with me.”
You think back and realize he’s right, you both showered this morning and you’ve been together all day. You wonder what else it could be, “Deodorant?”
He sniffs his armpit to make sure, “Yeah, I put that on too.”
You both look at each other, puzzled at the weird occurrence. You think as hard as you can about where else the smell might be coming from, but you swear it's originating from Fives. You ask him to move again and he sits himself up against the pillow. Your nose is immediately assaulted by a horrendous smell and you gag in response. You turn away from him and gag again. Fives raises an eyebrow in concern at your bizarre response to his body odor.
“Why don’t I go take another shower,” He says as he gets out of bed.
You're not sure if it will help, but you nod in between gags as he moves away from you.
“Sorry,” He apologizes, not knowing what else to say. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but it seems like he’s the cause and he feels bad about it.
You lean back against your pillow and try to relax. The awful scent still lingers, but at least it’s weaker now that Fives has left. You grab his ill-scented pillow and toss it off the bed to try and get rid of the rest of the smell. You roll over on your side, away from Fives’ side of the bed, clutch the covers to your face, and begin to cry. Why you're crying, you don’t know, but you feel the need to cry anyway. At least the congestion from crying will help clog your nose and keep the stench out.
When Fives returns from the shower, toweling dry his wet hair, he sees you laying in bed crying. He drops the towel, rushes over, and crawls onto the bed next to you. He places a tender hand on your back to let you know he is there. “Cyare, what’s wrong?” He asks with concern.
“I…” You say through coughing sobs. “I don’t know. I… I just want to stop.”
“Stop what?” He inquires, looking for any semblance or idea of what is causing you to be crying so suddenly. He visually looks you over to make sure there’s nothing externally wrong with you.
“Everything,” You cry harder and curl into a ball.
Fives is even more baffled, “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“I don’t know!” You yell in frustration at yourself for also not knowing what you mean, and for the fact that he’s asking you questions you don’t have the answers to.
“Udesii, cyar’ika,” Fives soothes while rubbing your back. “Shh. It’s alright.”
As his hand gently circles your back, the putrid smell returns and you reach around to push his hand away to make him stop. Fives is taken aback by your rejection and recoils his hand. You turn your head to look back at him with apologetic eyes. You’re not sure why you pushed him away, but you don’t want him touching you right now. Something isn’t right. This is all wrong. Your emotions are running wild and you can’t seem to get them under control. You start crying again at your helplessness.
“Cyare…” Fives trails as he watches and listens to your insatiable distress, but there’s nothing he can do about it. If he knew what to do, he would be doing it already. There’s nothing in his training that has prepared him for whatever this is. All he can do is be here for you if you need him.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” You say through your tears.
“Maybe we should go see Kix in the morning,” Fives suggests.
You nod, thinking it might be a good idea to have a medic look you over. Fives brings a hand down to cup your cheek, a sweet gesture he always does when you’re feeling down, but instead of leaning into it, you slap his hand away. You put your hands over your mouth in shock at what you just did. Fives curls his lips and sighs as he flops back against the backboard in defeat. He doesn’t know what to do and you don’t know what you want him to do. Everything is confusing.
“I’m so sorry,” You say as more tears fall. “I… I don’t know. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” Fives interrupts before you can berate yourself further. “I know.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” You repeat as if saying it out loud will help you solve the puzzle.
“If it’s my smell bothering you,” Fives begins, his voice wavering with uncertainty. “Why don’t I sleep down there, with my pillow.”
“Fives,” You begin to protest, even though you really do want him and his unbearable stench to be somewhere else.
“It’s fine, really,” Fives chuckles as he slips off the duvet and lays himself down next to the bed. “I’ve slept in worse places than our bedroom floor.”
You bury your head in your pillow as your shattering cries take over again. Fives can hear your muffled sobs and it kills him that he can’t hold you through them. You don’t know why you’re upset. It’s a terrible emotion to both want and not want your husband. It never crossed your mind. You have a playful and fun relationship, and always enjoy his company, that is, until now. You can’t wrap your head around it, but you’re hoping a good night's sleep will fix everything.
Eventually you both fall asleep, for the first time, separately. When Fives is home, you always sleep together in some form, whether it’s backs touching, spooning, or legs intertwining, even his hand accidentally smacking your face. No matter if you're happy with or angry at each other, you never sleep without some type of contact, that is, until tonight. You both feel it, the sting of separation, but there is a part of you that just can’t bring yourself to touch him right now.
As the early hours of dawn break, you feel a stirring in the pit of your stomach. You shift to try and alleviate it, but it only gets worse. The feeling travels up your esophagus and into the back of your throat, making you squirm in discomfort. “Fives,” You call out to him as you hold your aching stomach.
“Mhm,” He mumbles sleepily from his little blanket nest on the floor.
“I don’t feel good,” You answer as you curl yourself up a little tighter.
“What kind of ‘not feel good’?” He asks as he slowly sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.
“I think I’m gonna puke,” You say while jolting up and putting a hand over your mouth.
“Oh no,” Fives groans as he stumbles up off the floor to find a bucket. “Hang on!” He calls back as he scurries to the kitchen.
Your stomach muscles contract and you start to gag, “Fives!”
Fives rushes back into the bedroom with a small bucket and comes around to your side of the bed, but he’s a little too late. Your mouth fills with saliva in preparation of what’s to come and you can’t hold it in any longer. Fives dives for it, but misses by a couple inches as you vomit on the bedroom floor. He’s able to catch the end of it, while simultaneously grabbing most of your hair to hold it out of the way. You continue to vomit into the bucket until the spasms stop.
“Sorry,” You pant when you can finally speak again. Your chest hurts from the convulsions and your throat burns from regurgitating your stomach contents.
“Don’t worry about it,” Fives says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ll clean it up.”
You smile lazily at him and are grateful he is there to help you, but something still doesn’t feel right. As he gets up to find some cleaning supplies you get a whiff of the same smell from last night and start gagging. Fives turns to bring the bucket back just in case and shoots you a worried look. Something is wrong with you. Something is very wrong with you. You don’t know what it is about his scent all of sudden, but it’s the most nauseating smell in the galaxy.
“Please, get away from me,” You plead through gags while putting up a hand to signal him to stay back. “You smell so bad.”
“That’s it,” Fives sighs while rubbing his forehead. “We’re going to see Kix.”
He leaves the bedroom to empty the bucket and comes back to clean up the floor. He places a clean bucket on the bed for you to use, trying with difficulty to respect your new boundaries. He then opens the dresser and throws on whatever he can find the quickest and tosses you one of his shirts. You grab the shirt, but it's covered in that horrific smell so you throw it at his back and it plops on the floor by his feet. He slumps his shoulders and you put your head in your hands and start to cry again.
Fives lets out a discouraged sigh and grabs something of yours from the closet that will be comfy to wear to medbay and something you won’t mind throwing up on, just in case. He eventually finds an oversized hoodie he knows doesn’t smell like him and he tosses that to you. You smell it to be sure, and you sigh in relief as you pop it over your head. You grab the clean bucket and slowly get up from the bed, legs still wobbly from the stomach convulsions earlier.
Fives does everything in his power not to hold you steady. He reaches, but he pulls back knowing you’ll probably start vomiting again if he gets too close. He grabs the keys and your bag and opens the door to the Commons hallway and waits for you to follow him. You trail after him as he leads the way to the medbay. It’s strange walking behind him and not alongside him, or holding his hand, but you quickly realize that following him was a terrible idea.
You stop and vomit into your bucket. You’re not sure where all of this is coming from, because there’s no way you have this much food in your stomach, but you don’t take the time to try and figure it out. Fives stops at the familiar sound and turns around to look at you. His eyes are compassionate. “I’m leaving a trail, aren’t I?” He asks knowingly. You nod. He sighs, “Why don’t you take the lead and I’ll follow you?” You nod again and walk past him while holding your breath.
As you enter the medbay, you see Kix bustling about as he gets ready for the day. The medics always start early, but since Kix is in charge of the Common’s medbay, he has to start earlier than the other medics, which is great for the both of you. He doesn’t notice you at first, but as you both hobble awkwardly into his periphery, he catches a glimpse and stops what he’s doing. “Are you two okay?” Kix asks as he checks the time and looks at your fatigued states.
“I think I’m sick,” You answer while clutching your bucket.
“I can see that,” Kix says as he notices the bucket you're holding and glances at Fives suspiciously standing a good distance away. “Come on, let me take a look at you.” He gestures with his head for you to follow him to one of the exam rooms.
You both sit down, on opposite sides of the room, and it doesn't go unnoticed by Kix. He can already tell something is amiss. He sits down backwards on the rolling medical stool and crosses his arms over the seat back. He looks at you, sitting closest to the door, and then swivels the chair to look at Fives sitting in the opposite corner. “So, tell me what’s going on,” Kix asks as he swivels back to look at you.
“It started last night,” You begin to explain. “We were watching a holo-film, ate some popcorn, and then went to sleep. But, suddenly, I started smelling this weird smell and it made me super nauseous. But the weird thing is that the smell was coming from Fives.”
Kix raises an eyebrow at your last comment and looks over at Fives who’s sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, foot tapping rapidly on the floor. Kix can only describe the expression on the ARC trooper’s face as a mix between confused, concerned, and annoyed.
Feeling Kix’s stare burning a hole in his skull, Fives adds to your comment about his odor, “Then, I took a shower thinking that would fix the smell issue.”
“Did you use soap?” Kix asks blankly.
“Yes, I used soap,” Fives answers with an unamused huff. “But she still said I smelled.”
Kix narrows his eyes and looks back and forth between the two of you, but doesn’t say anything about what he’s thinking yet.
“Then I woke up this morning feeling like I was going to vomit,” You continue on with the timeline of events.
“Yeah,” Fives interjects with a small laugh. “And she missed the bucket too.”
“Shut up, Fives!” You exclaim in frustration at his irritating laughter. His penetrating voice grates against your eardrums, so you rub them to try and get some relief. None of this is funny to you and you don’t understand how he could be laughing so flippantly about it. Something is seriously wrong with you and his perceivable apathy is making you furious.
Fives’ mouth drops open in shock at your uncharacteristic outburst, but Kix just snorts at it. Your overreaction is the last piece of information he needs to connect a few dots that have been rolling around in his head since you got there.
“What are you smiling at?” You exclaim at Kix with annoyance. You wonder why everyone all of sudden thinks you’re suffering is a joke.
“I think I know what your problem is,” Kix chuckles as he pushes his feet to the floor and rolls his chair backwards to one of the drawers. He pulls the drawer open, grabs a small box, and slowly wheels himself back over to hand it to you.
You look at the box and your eyes widen, “You’re joking?”
“Afraid not,” Kix grins while placing his chin in his palm. “You have most of the early stage symptoms.”
“What?” Fives asks nervously, completely oblivious to the contents of the box as he cranes to look from his position across the room. “What is it? What does she have?”
You let out a heavy sigh at Fives’ pestering questions and toss the small box to him with an exasperated shake of your head.
He examines the box and gives Kix a puzzled look, “This is a pregnancy test.”
“So, you can read,” Kix says sarcastically.
“How did that happen?!” Fives wonders in shock.
“If I have to explain it to you, then you probably shouldn't be having sex,” Kix answers bluntly.
You place your head in your hands in defeat and let out a small squeal of irritation. How in the world did you end up with this idiot for a husband? What was it that you saw in him that made him so appealing? At this point, he has as much appeal as a bantha’s backside, and that’s being generous. This changes everything. You can’t be pregnant, can you? Your life has been perfect up until now. You don’t need anything else to make you happy.
“I know how it happens,” Fives retorts with an eye roll. “I’m just surprised that it did happen.”
“Contraception isn’t one hundred percent effective,” Kix explains. “Abstinence is, but we both know you don’t have any of that.”
“Does it even matter?” You interrupt their annoying banter, about ready to smack them both. You’re not sure where all the agitation is suddenly coming from, but your fuse is wearing thin. You get up and walk over to Fives. “Give me that,” You swipe the box back from him and go to the nearest refresher to take the test.
“So, how did you know?” Fives asks after you leave the exam room and close the door behind you.
“Easy,” Kix answers with a shoulder shrug. “The hormone changes during the first trimester can be drastic, including morning sickness, food cravings, breast tenderness, irritability, heightened sense of smell, and in rare cases an aversion to the father.”
“She has at least four of those,” Fives notes while listening intently.
“The others will come eventually,” Kix explains further. As a medic, pregnancy is not what he is trained for, but he can never be too knowledgeable about these types of things, considering the amount of men he has to look after. One of them was bound to have a baby at some point in his medical career.
“Is she really not going to like me anymore?” Fives asks nervously, still thinking about the list of hormonal changes Kix mentioned.
“Eh,” Kix scratches his head, trying to be realistic and honest. “More like she’s going to hate your guts, if this morning’s events are any indication.”
“Hate?” Fives questions with concern. “How long is that going to last?”
“Could be just the first trimester,” Kix begins while thinking out loud. “Or the full 280 rotations.”
“280 rotations!” Fives exclaims. “What am I supposed to do during all that time?”
“I don’t know,” Kix says. “That’s your problem, not mine.”
“Can’t you give her something for it?” Fives frantically asks as he goes into panic mode.
“Yeah,” Kix says sarcastically. “Vitamins and prenatal supplements.”
“No, not that,” Fives corrects while waving his hands. “I mean for the hormonal changes.”
“You want me to give her something to change her pregnancy hormones to non-pregnancy hormones?” Kix clarifies with a raised eyebrow. “Fives, I know you can be clueless at times, but that’s gotta be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
“But, how am I going to survive this?” Fives asks, desperate for guidance. “She can’t even stand the way I smell.”
“Again,” Kix repeats. “My only concern is mother and baby, not your identity crisis.”
“C’mon, Kix,” Fives pleads. “You gotta help me.”
“Get a therapist,” Kix advises bluntly.
Fives and Kix’s conversation comes to an abrupt stop when you swing open the door to the exam room. Fives sees you crying and isn’t sure if they are happy tears, sad tears, or angry tears, but he’s bracing for all the possibilities. You look at Fives, smile, and nod your head to let him know that the test is indeed positive. You are pregnant. You are going to be a mother and Fives is going to be a father. You feel an overwhelming sense of joy at the prospect and can’t stop smiling.
“Congratulations,” Kix says with an ear-to-ear grin. “You're going to be parents.”
Fives takes a deep breath as his heart beats rapidly in his chest. Him, a father? A parent? He doesn’t even know what a parent is , let alone how to be one. All at once, the issues of last night and this morning seem to melt away as he’s now flooded with anxious thoughts about what the rest of your lives will look like. Will he be a good father? How does one take care of a baby? He’s a soldier. He isn’t bred for this sort of thing. It’s not part of his genetic make-up.
Rex is good with kids, but him? He is the most awkward person alive when he gets around kids. Most of the other clone troopers seem to be naturals, always knowing what to say, what to do, and just fun to be around. He, on the other hand, makes children cry. Echo too. Maybe his batch got messed up during the cloning process. Maybe the rest of Domino Squad was terrible with kids and he just didn’t know it since his original batchmates have long since departed.
You cock your head at your husband's silence as his brain short circuits from the news. “Fives?” You prod to try and get a response. He hasn’t moved or said anything since you came back into the room, so you’re not sure what his thoughts are. What if he doesn’t want to be a father? What if he doesn’t want a baby? What if he doesn’t want you anymore? The destructive thoughts wash over you in waves as your anxiety increases while awaiting his response.
Kix, seeing the dazed look in Fives’ eyes and your nervous expression, picks up a tongue depressor off the counter and throws it at Fives’ face. It bounces off his cheek and he slowly looks up at the two of you. Finally realizing he is not alone with his thoughts, he snaps out of his swirling haze and sees your worried face. The affection and protectiveness he feels for you, his now pregnant wife, begins to overwhelm all his senses.
Fives shoots up from his seat, rushes over to you, and pulls you against his chest. He squeezes you tightly and presses adoring kisses against the top of your head. “We’re going to be parents,” He whispers against your hair, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile.
“Yeah,” You mumble into his chest as fresh tears of joy roll down your cheeks. “We are.”
Kix watches the adorable display and sighs happily. It’s not every day a clone trooper makes a baby and he knows he’s going to have his hands full with your prenatal care. He chuckles to himself as he thinks about what the rest of the pregnancy is going to look like and if Fives will be able to survive it. However, something is nagging at the back of his mind and he can’t quite put his finger on it. But then his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of you retching. Oh, yeah .
“I’m so sorry,” You apologize to Kix. You are mortified at what you just did. It was so involuntary that you didn’t have any time to find somewhere else to let it all out.
Kix shakes his head and sighs as he gets up from the medical stool, “Don’t worry. I’ll get an orderly to clean it up.”
“Can you get me something to wear while you’re at it?” Fives requests as he looks down at his vomit-covered clothes.
“Might as well get used to it now,” Kix waves dismissively as he leaves the room.
“Sorry,” You apologize again while looking up at him in embarrassment. “I forgot how bad you smell.”
“This is going to be a long 280 rotations,” Fives sighs while pulling off his soiled shirt.
“It might get better, right?” You encourage while trying to offer some optimism into the bleak situation.
“I hope so,” Fives agrees, but he has a sinking feeling it won’t be that easy.