#OC 212th lead medic Skull | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ihathbenobiwankenobied · 1 year

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madness

Summary: Obi-Wan shows up at Cody's quarters with an infected lightsaber wound. Cody, unfortunately, is forced to call Skull, the 212th's lead medic.

(Or, the follow-up to Skull's infamous run-in with the 212th's newest secret couple)

Word Count: 3,292

Read part one here on tumblr or on ao3

Cody, in a rare event, had three free hours to relax, let loose, just… probably sleep.

Truthfully, he had requested that some extra time be carved out of his schedule while he was back on the Negotiator. Obi-Wan –the General– he often needed to remind himself, was away on a solo mission, one ordered by the Jedi Council. Without the General there, Cody was otherwise only filing reports away and waiting for him to get back.

Cody determinedly tried not to think about that exact fact. Typically, the Council’s missions were dangerous, often risky. Obi-Wan would usually admit later that he had to abandon his own sensical nature when it came to his recent Jedi duties.

The thought made Cody’s hair stand up.

Deciding, against his own urges, that there was nothing he himself could do to trick his mind into thinking positively, Cody made a purposeful effort to lay down and not think. About anything.

He crawled under the sheets, which of course still smelled like Obi-Wan’s Coruscantian cologne, and forced himself to breathe deep breaths. Pulling the blankets up under his chin and rubbing his fists over he heavy eyelids, Cody redirected his thoughts away from his duties and shut his eyelids against the soft glow of light coming from underneath the door of his small quarters.

Seconds –it seemed– later, he was blinking his eyes open to the sound of a hesitant knock against the heavy metal door of his quarters. Blearily, he blinked once or twice as he raised his head from the pillow to look at the door.

The knock came again, only slightly louder.

“Who is it?” He called out, his coarse tone coming out with the words. He hoped whoever was behind the door, particularly if it was Waxer, the little shit, would get the hint.

The response was another, more urgent, knock.

Cody groaned, head falling back into the pillow before he threw off his covers. He pulled a loose pair of old blacks onto his legs and trudged to the door, hastily slapping the button by the door to slide it open.

The person at the door was not Waxer, but Cody immediately wished it was.

“What the kriff happened?”

Cody’s body went rigid as he asked the question and took in the image before him.

Obi-Wan stood in the doorway, a sheepish frown on his sweaty face. He wore a soiled tunic and ripped pants; he had one hand pressed against the side of his ribs. In the other hand, he held a rumpled pile of medical supplies in a sack made out of a medical gown. Cody could see gauze and unopened bacta patches hanging out of the sides of it.

“I’ve made it back.” Obi-Wan said nonchalantly, though there was a nervous edge to his tone. “And nothing too serious; had a minor run in with Ventress.”

Cody stared at him, eyebrows raised as his thoughts moved at the speed of light. He looked toward Obi-Wan’s side where his hand was clenched over the wound. Rather than coated in blood, the edges of his tunic, where it peaked out from behind his hand, were singed.

Lightsaber wound.

Cody didn’t need to ask for confirmation, it was more than obvious.

“May I come in?” Obi-Wan looked at him expectantly, hardened facial features faltering for just a moment as he wobbled on his feet.

Cody caught his arm, and pulled him gently through the door. “On the bed. Sit.” Cody said sternly, trying to keep the anger out of his tone, as he led Obi-Wan towards his bunk.

The General offered Cody a soft, apologetic smile as he sat down singerly on the bed, still clutching at his side.

Cody’s heartbeat pounded heavily inside the walls of his chest as he took the makeshift sack of medical supplies out of Obi-Wan’s other arm and unrolled the contents on the floor. He noted a few small bacta patches, a couple rolls of gauze, several adhesive bandages, and one hypo filled with force-knows-what.

If Cody had to guess, Obi-Wan had snagged a stim instead of a painkiller thinking he could get some paperwork out of the way once he’s been bandaged up.

“You know, lightsaber burns aren’t minor, Obi-Wan…” Cody’s voice trailed off as he straightened up from his crouch and took a seat next to Obi-Wan’s injured side, medical supplies falling out of his arms and onto the course blanket stretched over his bunk.

The look on Obi-Wan’s face said it all– he looked defeated, eyes cast toward the floor and lips curled into something of a terse frown.

“I’ve had enough time in the medbay recently.” He muttered and cleared his throat, “Skull would probably have more than enough to say about the last time I needed him anyway.”

Cody barely held back a snort as his cheeks warmed a little. He had just gotten comfortable with forgetting about that force-forsaken night several weeks before. Cody had a reputation to uphold– one of strict adherence to procedures, never swaying from the books unless it was an absolute necessity– and yet, a simple visit from Skull had all but ruined that.

He had yet to work up the nerve to talk to Skull about it. He knew the medic well enough to realize he was just as stubborn and equally loyal, but the teasing–

That– Cody simply could not bear to endure if he didn’t strictly have to.

Instead, he dealt with the smug looks Skull repeatedly sent him from across the room during briefings. Once, he’d even overheard Skull call him loverboy in a conversation with Oxy at the mess hall. Though they pretended not to see Cody standing several troopers behind them, the Commander could barely handle the minor jab without the tops of his cheeks turning into an embarrassingly bright shade of red.

Cody shook the thoughts out of his head as he pressed his fingers over Obi-Wan’s trembling ones that still remained over the top of the wound. “You think you can let go?” He asked the General. Obi-Wan glanced down and nodded once in affirmation, though he didn’t look so convinced of his own agreement.

Cody was patient, his own fingers hovering inches away, as Obi-Wan gently pulled each of his shaking, bloody fingers away from the wound.

Immediately, Cody was hit with the stench of infection. The red, swollen edges of the wound all but confirmed that it had been there for days without even so much as a splash of water to flush it out. Cody swallowed, his protective nature kicking into high gear.

“Obi-Wan, did you clean this out?” He asked as calmly as possible, voice barely wavering.

He looked up to find Obi-Wan staring straight forward, head shaking from side-to-side. He looked as though he himself didn’t want to see the damage. “I couldn’t find the time. Ventress is a capable competitor.”

Cody tried not to imagine what Obi-Wan’s words implied, but his mind ran out of control against his will.

Was he trapped somewhere? Hiding for hours with no food or water? Barely able to stand but still fighting tooth and nail?

The thought of it made Cody sick to his stomach.

“We might need Skull afterall, Obi-Wan. This is– it’s bad.”

“...bad?” Obi-Wan asked, eyebrows raised. He hissed as Cody pressed a gentle finger against the very edge of the red line surrounding the burn.

“It’s infected, not a chance these bacta patches will be able heal this.” Cody glared at the fine print on the outside of the wrapper of one of the patches. They were only meant to treat minor wounds, ones sustained hours before nonetheless.

Obi-Wan had severely underestimated the nature of the wound– the supplies he brought would barely make a dent on a papercut, much less an infected burn wound.

“You don’t think we should at least try them? I would hate to waste his time, Cody. I’m sure Skull has more pressing–” Obi-Wan tried to resist, his dirt and blood covered hand coming back to try and cover the wound once again. Cody grabbed it before he could make contact with his exposed skin.

“No!” Obi-Wan looked momentarily alarmed, but quickly shut his mouth and put his arm back behind him where it had been before. “Listen– I have baseline medical training, but this– this is not good. This is why we have Skull anyway.”

Obi-Wan brought his other hand to rub over his beard and let out a shaky breath. He sat up a little straighter. “We’ll go to the medbay then.” He announced. Cody shot him a look of warning.

“Seriously? Not in a million rotations would I let you get up right now.” Cody stood from the bed and reached for his comlink where it sat on the table next to his bed.

Growling under his breath, he messaged Skull with the bad news.

Lightsaber wound. Infected. Surface wound.

He paused before adding the last part and cursed under his breath.

My quarters.

Skull was going to have a field day with that.

Cody stepped back into Obi-Wan’s view and assessed the rest of his appearance searching for other undisclosed wounds or scrapes. Other than the slash across his side, he looked relatively unharmed. Sire, a few bruises lined the curve of his jaw and his cheeks, but that was barely anything new. Obi-Wan had a habit of putting himself in harms way regardless of whether it was really necessary or not.

“Let’s at least get the tunic off of you.” Cody said gently and curled a hand under Obi-Wan’s jaw to try and force a moment of eye-contact. Obi-Wan looked at him with something like irritation on his face, then something softer.

“Would you do the honors, dear?” He asked in just a whisper, eyes wide.

Cody, unable to help himself, pressed a gentle kiss to the edge of his hairline and offered up a muted smile. “Of course.”

He took the knife from his utility belt and cut through the beige layers of clothes so he could easily peel them away from Obi-Wan’s skin, gentle around the lightsaber gash. While he wasn’t nearly as soiled underneath the clothes, his ribs were clearly bruised and his neck appeared to have red marks crawling around the outside of it.

Cody looked away, not wanting to imagine Ventress dangling Obi-Wan by his neck in the air.

“It’s rather cold here, is it not?” Obi-Wan’s voice broke him from his thoughts.

Cody considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think so.” Concern grew in his chest. He reached to feel Obi-Wan’s forehead and was alarmed to find that the skin was scalding to the touch.

Kriff. Infection.

Cody was medically trained enough to know that fevers with infections were never a good sign. For the first time, Cody silently wished Skull would get there faster.

“You have a fever.” Cody said, breaking the momentary silence and brushing the rogue hairs off of Obi-Wan’s suddenly sweaty forehead. While his cheeks had looked gaunt moments before, now his face was stained red with warmth. He trembled even more, gooseflesh coating the skin of his chest.

Cody opened his mouth to offer his reassurance, and maybe a blanket, when there was a knock at the door.

Thank force.

He stood and strode to the door in a few short steps before pressing the button to open the door.

Skull stood there, arms full with both Obi-Wan’s personal medical kit and another large black bag presumably filled with additional medical supplies. He didn’t look quite as panicked as Cody thought he should, but then again, medical trauma was his everyday.

“Looks like shirts are optional in here. Noted.” Skull said, eyebrows raised as he walked into the small quarters. He looked between Obi-Wan and Cody.

Cody glanced down at his own chest and muttered a curse. Of course he was shirtless. Again. So much for napping shirtless anymore.

Cody didn’t have a chance to muster up his own snarky remark before Skull brushed by him and toward Obi-Wan’s shaking form still sitting on the bed. Cody followed him, annoyance fading immediately as he noticed the water collecting in the corners of Obi-Wan’s eyes.

He looked overwhelmed all of the sudden, eyes flickering past Skull and landing on Cody’s own.

Cody wished he could scoop him up, hold him tightly in his arms for just a few precious minutes.

“Sir, how long ago did this happen?” Skull asked mechanically, freshly sanitized hands pressing around the outside of the wound making Obi-Wan jump and suck in a deep breath.

“Erm–” Obi-Wan swallowed, “Perhaps two days? Three?” Cody could tell the feverish haze was setting in; Obi-Wan was not one to confuse his timelines.

Skull looked concerned at the time frame, eyeing the wound more closely. He didn’t look satisfied when he sat back on his heels from where he knelt on the durasteel floor. He motioned to Cody to step aside, away from Obi-Wan.

“When did the fever start?” Skull asked expectantly. “I’m assuming he’s been here for more than a few minutes?

Cody sighed. “Since he came here, I don’t know– twenty minutes ago? And he’s sick of the medbay– I don’t think he realized how bad it is.”

Skull rubbed an irritated hand across his face. “You know, Cody, if he’ll listen to you, maybe you can convince him to come to me next time.” Cody tried not to look sheepish, even pulling his lips into a hard line.

“I can’t make Ob– the General listen to me.” Cody corrected himself quickly.

“Banthashit. That’s the only reason I’m actually here and he hasn’t already dragged his lifeless body to the medbay instead. Just own it Commander; the General is wrapped around your finger.” If punching a medic in the face wasn’t likely a decommissionable offense, Cody would have already done it.

“Skull I swear to– I do not. It’s not like that–”

“I’ve seen what I’ve seen, Cody. Your insistence is meaningless.” Skull said, the shook his head once. “Back on topic– bacta bandages probably won’t fully heal that monstrosity, but I think they can hold him over until we can convince him of submersion tomorrow. That– and shitload of antibiotics.”

The insurmountable anger Skull had incited in him just a couple of minutes before dissipated.

Submersion.

Cody knew Obi-Wan hated it. Cody had only endured it himself once before, and he had been equally as disenchanted with it, and that was without the added roadblock of claustrophobia.

“Are you sure? Full submersion?” Cody asked, looking nervously toward Obi-Wan who had since closed his eyes.

“It’s an infected lightsaber wound, not a kriffing scrape Cody.” Skull reminded him, and stepped back towards the bunk.

Cody watched silently, sitting beside Obi-Wan’s head in a metal chair, as Skull coaxed Obi-Wan to lie down on his side so the wound was fully exposed. The medic made quick work with a set of heavy, white bandages which were clearly more fit for the job than the tiny bacta patches Obi-Wan had brought from the medbay.

Skull took a mixed painkiller-antibiotic hypo and gently pressed it into Obi-Wan’s neck before he began to slather on a generous layer of full-strength bacta gel, the kind that was only used when things were serious. Though the painkillers clearly took the edge off, Cody still cringed at the occasional tiny moans that escaped past Obi-Wan’s stony, rigid exterior.

“Kriff.” Cody heard Obi-Wan hiss as Skull took a long strip of high-grade gauze and pressed down across the length of the wound.

“Sorry, General. I know it stings; hold tight.”

Obi-Wan audibly cursed again when Skull pressed a long strip of adhesive bandage over the gauze. “That should do it for now.” Skull said, leaning back again helping Obi-Wan to roll onto his back, a more comfortable position.

Cody noted the minor relief painted across Obi-Wan’s features. Whatever cocktail of drugs Skull had given him clearly worked, and his forehead no longer was coated in a layer of sweat. Without the large, gaping burn wound out in the open, Obi-Wan looked less like a walking corpse, and more like a human punching bag. Regardless, it was an improvement.

“I’ve got two more doses of painkillers from your kit.” Skull said as he rummaged through the case he had brought with him. “Have Cody give you one every four hours, and I’ll send a med transport to come get you tomorrow morning.”

Obi-Wan blinked twice and furrowed his brow. “Oh that certainly won’t be necessary. Could you leave a few bandages behind? I’m sure I can change them myself.”

Skull raised his eyebrows again and turned to Cody with a smug, knowing smile. “Cody?” He asked, amusement lacing his tone.

Kriffing Skull.

Cody drew both of his hands over his face and suppressed a groan.

“General– Skull is right. You aren’t fit to walk, and I don’t think bacta gel is going to cut it.” Obi-Wan shook his head and sighed.

“If you insist, Cody.” He answered politely.

And no, Cody hadn’t insisted.

Skull’s shit-eating grin was almost too much for Cody to handle.

“Well Skull, looks like your job here is done.” Cody said loudly and grabbed his closed medical bags from the floor as he headed towards the door. After exchanging his last words with Obi-Wan, Skull followed him and took the bags from his hands.

“So star-crossed lovers it looks like? A match made in heaven? The only type of relationship where The Obi-Wan Kenobi will listen to you over a medical professional. I told you, wrapped around your finger.” Skull said as Cody nearly punched the button to open the door of his quarters.

“Oh fuck off.” Cody said, rolling his eyes, but his cheeks were still burning. “Whatever is going on here is between me and the General.” He finished as Skull stepped into the hallway.

“Oh I’m sure there are plenty of things going on between you and the General.” Skull said with a wink. “See you tomorrow, Cody.”

Fucking kriff.

Cody was never going to live it down, was he?

He let out his exasperation in the form of punching the door just as it closed, which though painful, was enough to make him feel marginally better.

Collecting his thoughts, Cody headed back to the bunk where Obi-Wan still laid on his back, eyes half-shut, and bloody hand resting over his chest. Cody leaned over him and he perked up a little offering a hint of a grin as his eyes blinked open.

“You know, maybe we should just accept that Skull knows; make it official.” Obi-Wan murmured.

“What? And admit defeat? Ruin my reputation?” Cody was mildly offended at the suggestion, but he still ran a gentle hand through the greasy, unwashed hair on top of Obi-Wan’s head.

“He already knows, dear.” Obi-Wan said with a mild chuckle that shook his chest, then a small hiss of pain.

“That doesn’t mean I need to admit it to him.” Cody retorted, and stood to find some sort of cloth to clean Obi-Wan’s bloody, dirt-covered fingers. Obi-Wan just snorted.

“Always so stubborn, Commander.” He whispered as Cody gently wiped his hands and then gently rubbed in some lotion he kept in the drawer of the table by his bed. "Thank you for calling Skull- I'm not entirely sure what I was thinking."

"Always so stubborn, Obi-Wan." He repeated, smiling gently, "I'm just happy you're here now, with me."

They sat in silence, Cody still massaging the callouses on Obi-Wan’s hand and admiring the gentle curve of his jaw. He pressed a kiss to the middle of Obi-Wan’s chest.

Perhaps it didn’t really matter what Skull thought after all.

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ihathbenobiwankenobied · 1 year

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night shift

Summary:

"What were they doing together in Cody’s quarters, of all places, at 0100 in the morning?"

Or the one where Skull, the lead medic for the 212th, gets a call from Cody when Obi-Wan has a late night allergic reaction. He finds an unexpected scene.

Word Count: 2,390

Skull liked the night shift when it was assigned to him; it was peaceful.

It was quiet in the Negotiator’s medbay at night; it was a respite from bloody Generals and many of his irate brothers insisting they not be relegated to his care for a fucking paper cut that was usually a near-fatal stab wound.

Skull liked when he could take a seat and run through his weekly reports and shoot the shit with Oxy without having to pause.

Mostly, an empty medbay meant hours in his laboratory, a place where he could focus on preventative care instead. Skull’s eyes wandered over the notes he had written on a loose piece of flimsi. He peered back through his microscope at the bacta powder solution he had been studying for days.

He had just settled in minutes early, his shift starting at 0100 hours, when he heard the familiar piercing beep of his comlink. He tried not to sigh.

It blinked incessantly from across the lab, and Skull lifted his glasses from his face, curiosity peaked. Glancing briefly at the name on his comlink, Skull was surprised to see it wasn’t Oxy passive aggressively trying to get his attention from outside the locked laboratory door.

Rather, it was Commander Cody.

Skull raised an eyebrow; as the 212th’s lead medic, he was presented with tentative schedules for all of the men, even that of his commanding officer. He had noted that Cody was off duty for a day and he was scheduled to be on the Negotiator to report virtually to the Jedi Council. In fact, Skull had even seen him in the mess hall at dinner .

Suppressing his concern and suspicion, Skull answered the com.

“Commander? Is everything alright? I saw you were scheduled for off-duty–” Skull wasn’t able to finish his sentence.

“It’s Ob– the General. He’s– I think he’s having some sort of reaction– he can barely breath–” Skull’s heart skipped a beat. Allergies. Anaphylaxis.

Skull thought Obi-Wan’s lengthy list of allergies was under control . He had spent hours curating a list of approved dishes for the mess hall to cook for him, and even longer crafting a customized adrenaline shot tailored to Obi-Wan’s overactive immune system.

Between Skull and the General, they had been so careful to pinpoint what he could and could not eat, so diligent to prevent any possible scenario that could occur on the battlefield?

What could he have possibly eaten, or been in contract with on the Negotiator?

“Short of breath, nausea…?” Skull asked as he shut off his lab lights and shoved his loose flimsi into a manilla folder.

“Yes– his shots aren’t here. Says he forgot them– I–” Skull’s heart skipped a beat and he cut off Cody before more time could be wasted.

“I’ll bring one. Just– stay on the line Commander.” Skull tried to keep his panic from worrying the Commander even more. Instead, he kept his tone flat and stood hastily from his rolling chair.

Skull didn’t waste time and unlocked his lab door in haste. Oxy stared at him with a peculiar look of smugness and confusion mixed together. “Oi, Skully, you finally decided to do something useful?” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and leaned back, arms crossed against the medical bed behind him.

Skull ignored him momentarily, and hurried to the medical supply closet. He headed straight for the prepacked case labeled with the General’s name and ripped it from the shelf.

“If you call saving the General’s arse again useful, then yes.” Skull shot Oxy a pointed look and brought his comlink back towards his face as he pushed through the swinging doors of the medbay.

“Commander, are you still on the line?” He asked as he walked briskly down the hallway in the direction of the barracks.

“Yes. He’s not looking so good, Skull…” Cody’s voice leaked with panic; Skull could almost hear the Commander’s voice trembling.

“Commander– I need you to focus for a moment. Where are you located?” Skull figured the General’s quarters was a likely answer.

“My quarters. 2224-01D.” Cody answered after a pause. “Please hurry.”

“Give me one minute.” Skull stopped walking and began to run, barely caring about the write-up he would likely get if anyone in authority saw him. It hardly mattered when the General’s life was on the line.

Skull steered himself towards the ranking clone barracks just next to those of the Jedi. For a moment, his focus faltered as he considered what Cody had told him. What were they doing together in Cody’s quarters, of all places, at 0100 in the morning? Skull could hardly believe that a General, much less a Jedi, would agree to meet in the quarters of their subordinate . It surely did explain why the General inadvertently had lost access to his adrenaline shots.

Skull shook the thoughts from his head and prepared himself for quick thinking as he approached Cody’s quarters.

01B, 02A, 01C….

01D.

He didn’t bother to knock, instead placing his fingertip on the pad just outside the door to force his own entry.

The door slid away to reveal an empty room save for a small chair in the corner holding some beige clothes and a set of glasses. Skull stepped inside, momentarily confused before he heard a soft voice emerge from the left.

“Keep breathing, please . Skull will be here any second. You will be fine, everything will be fine.”

Skull swiveled to find Cody sitting in just his briefs by Obi-Wan’s side. His face, usually perfectly shaved, was covered in a layer of stubble. He had an iron grip on Obi-Wan’s arm and panic laced his voice as he spoke softly.

Obi-Wan sat propped against the edge of Cody’s bunk, shirtless , with one hand curled over his neck and another on his chest. A loose pair of linen pants protected his legs from the metal floor and he heaved in wheezing breaths. “Don’t–” He sucked in another breath and abandoned whatever he was going to say as Skull approached and dropped his bag heavily onto the floor beside the pair.

“I’m here.” Skull said, mildly breathless himself, still struggling to figure out what in the absolute fuck was going on. He pulled open the medical case and plucked out one of the several adrenaline shots along with an alcohol pad. “General, you know the drill, keep those breaths even.” Skull kept his tone low and schooled his face into an unpanicked look. He hoped it was reassuring, especially given the wild look in the General’s wide eyes.

It had been a long time since the General had experienced anaphylaxis, and even longer since he had gone such a long period of time without his shot made available. Even out in the field it was rare for a reaction to be left untreated.

Skull made quick work of flicking the outside of the syringe. “Commander, pull down his pants.” Cody looked at him, mouth ajar, before Skull swore under his breath and pulled at the elastic band of the General’s pants himself.

He wiped the alcohol pad across his thigh before warning the General, “Alright, here we go.” Obi-Wan nodded urgently in response as he wheezed even louder.

Without hesitation, Skull stabbed the syringe into his thigh. Obi-Wan didn’t make a sound for a second, his breath still caught in his throat. Skull held his own breath and counted to ten, hoping to see Obi-Wan’s purpling cheeks turn into a less alarming shade of red.

“Deep breaths, General.” He reminded the General as he pulled Obi-Wan’s hand away from where it rested across his neck. Obi-Wan’s eyes remained wide, but he sucked in a deep breath that sounded marginally better than before. “That’s it, keep going.”

Skull watched him breath for a minute until, though he was still mildly wheezing, it looked like he was able to bring in a breath with little resistance.

Kriffing close call, that was.

Skull briefly looked over at Cody as he collected the sterilization wrapper from the shot. Cody’s lips were pulled into a hard line, like usual, but something in his eyes made him seem far less calm than he appeared.

If Skull didn’t know any better, he might have thought the Commander looked… teary .

“I’m afraid–” Skull averted his eyes when Obi-Wan spoke up hoarsely, his gaze on Cody’s form, “I’m not feeling…” He took a moment to suck in a breath and seemed to be shifting around like he wanted to stand up. Skull pressed him back against the side of the bunk gently.

“Please, stay sitting General!”

Obi-Wan fought against his hold weakly, “Not feeling so good, Cody–”

Cody’s eyes flew open wide and he rushed to the corner of the room where he emptied a waste basket. Moments later, he deposited it in Obi-Wan’s arms just in time. Cody looked away as Obi-Wan heaved into the can, a small amount of liquidy brown bile coming out before he set it aside.

“Well… that was pleasant.” Obi-Wan murmured after he paused to suck in another deep breath. Skull noted that the exposed skin of his chest and face had mostly returned to its normal color, outside of the vague redness of his cheeks and little mark on his neck…

Skull almost let his eyes widen, but looked away before he had a chance to let his thoughts get the best of him.

Medical help now, questions about the severe lack of clothing in this force-forsaken room later.

“Not really a great time for jokes, Sir.” Skull said instead, clearing his throat.

“Agreed.” Cody said firmly and stood in his place. He assumed his resting position, arms crossed over his chest and back held straight and tall. Yet, he hardly looked as menacing and serious as usual in just a pair of tight, black, underwear. “You can breath now?” The Commander asked Obi-Wan, the fright in his eyes fading just slightly as Obi-Wan offered him a hint of a smile and breathed in deeply once or twice.

“Yes, it works like a charm.” Obi-Wan said while pointing to the emptied syringe and offering Cody a strangely familiar smile. “Thank you Skull– I shouldn’t have left my quarters without my med pack. I extend my deepest gratitude to you for coming in such a hurry.” Skull was also offered a warm smile as he extended a hand to Obi-Wan and helped him onto the bunk where he could sit more comfortably.

“Not a problem, General. It’s my job.” He said the words teasingly. “And because it’s my job, I need to know what exactly happened here?”

There was a long, awkward pause as Cody looked nervously in Obi-Wan’s direction. Suddenly, the Commander seemed much more aware of the fact he was stripped down to his underwear, eyes blowing wide before he cleared his throat and reached for the set of blacks neatly folded on top of the dresser next to his bunk. “It was my fault. I bought some biscuits from the lower levels of Coruscant last time I was there. I thought I read the ingredients list, but I guess I must have missed something.”

Cody reached for the package – one biscuit missing – and handed it sheepishly to Skull.

While he tried to look over the ingredients list for a moment, Skull could hardly keep a straight face considering the idea that the Commander and General were sharing a package of fancy Coruscantian biscuits together, at 0100 in the morning, while half-naked in Cody’s quarters.

Things were starting to appear very obvious, and Cody seemed to realize Skull knew something was amiss.

“I’ll analyze these in my lab, see if maybe the ingredients list was missing something. No sense in wasting your time any further boys, it looks like you were enjoying your night.” Skull offered up a smile and crouched down to pull out an extra bottle of Obi-Wan’s emergency medication, and a few adrenaline shots.

General Kenobi’s face was colored a dark red as Skull sat down next to Obi-Wan and placed the next adrenaline shot in his hand. “Alright General, I know it’s been a while, but remember to repeat this shot in twenty minutes. If the symptoms don’t go away after three more, send me a com and we’ll get you set up in the medbay for observation.”

“Thank you, Skull. I will remember of course.” Obi-Wan took a deep breath and looked away before any prolonged eye-contact could happen. Skull nearly snorted.

“Would you like me to teach Cody how to do it?” He asked, glancing over at the Commander just as he was readjusting the shirt of his blacks.

“Oh!” Obi-Wan explained, “That certainly won’t be necessary–”

“Well I’m sure you can teach him yourself anyway, General. I am leaving two of these here… just in case.” Skull stood from the bed and forced himself to hold back the urge to wink in the Commander’s direction.

“That is ah– appreciated Skull,” Obi-Wan said, a half-hearted smile gracing his lips as he shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed.

Skull nodded and collected the remaining contents of Obi-Wan’s medkit before heading towards the door.

“Listen–” Cody started, likely seeing the hint of an amused smile on Skull’s lips, “It’s not what you are thinking.”

“I’m sure it’s not, Commander.” Skull tapped at Obi-Wan’s medical case with a few of his fingers and pressed the button to open the door. “It looks like you and the General were having quite the late night tactical planning session, complete with fancy biscuits and a lack of clothes .”

Cody looked vaguely exasperated before schooling his expression. “Don’t tell anyone.” He whispered, seriousness enveloping his form as he took a step closer to Skull. “We can discuss.. later.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it Commander. All I ask is in the future, you reference his list more carefully before feeding him anything. I’d really rather not interrupt your… intimacy, again.” Cody let out a sigh, “And please, keep a few shots here.”

With that, Skull nodded his goodbye to the blushing Commander, and shuffled into the hallway where he finally allowed himself a low chuckle.

There would be lots to discuss at Obi-Wan’s next medbay visit, that was certain.

But for now, Oxy and Skull would be having a rather entertaining night shift.

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ihathbenobiwankenobied · 1 year

Text

heat and electric

Part eight of 212th Medic Skull Has Had Enough on ao3

Summary:

Eventually, Obi-Wan looked up, eyes bloodshot, and offered what Cody assumed to be a meager attempt at a smile. “I’m– I am alright.” His voice was weak, coated in a thick grumbling tone, unconvincing at best. Cody grimaced.

“It’s– you don’t have to be.” Cody reminded him, stoking a thumb over the small bruises along his jaw hating the way Obi-Wan flinched slightly under his touch. “You had a seizure, that must be–”

“It’s not the first time.”

(Or, the aftermath of Obi-Wan's seizure. Later, heat stroke.)

Word Count: 5,781

“Everyone out, besides Cody and Oxy. Get out.”

Cody could barely hear Skull’s words.

Seizure.

The word stuck in his brain, but he could barely think. Whatever focus he had was far gone, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Obi-Wan.

Seizure.

He had heard of them, sure, but Cody didn’t know what they entailed, didn’t know that he would ever witness one. Yet, he had watched Obi-Wan, already bruised and covered in electric burns, fall victim to one. It still didn’t feel like reality.

Cody couldn’t move, frozen in place and time.

The remaining medics and Quinlan shuffled out of the room leaving the stale silence of the room, save for Obi-Wan’s whistling breaths where he lay facing away from Cody. Skull had arranged him into a position on his side– he’d called it a recovery position. Cody just watched numbly, unspeaking.

“Cody?” Someone– not Obi-Wan– asked eventually, and the Commander glanced upward, trying to stop the trembling in his fingers where they gripped at the sides of his chair. Skull had finally helped Obi-Wan into a sitting position, and was now staring in Cody’s direction expectantly.

How long had it been?

“Cody?” Skull asked again, worry evident on his face, “It’s been ten minutes, he’s going to be okay, just unwell for… awhile.”

Cody blinked. Ten minutes? He swallowed, and grasped the edges of the chair.

Without his express permission, Cody’s body moved, and he walked around the outside of the bed.

Numb. His entire form felt numb.

Obi-Wan’s back was covered in blood stained bandages, which was already alarming, but when Cody caught a look at his front, he could barely stand the obvious discomfort written on Obi-Wan’s face.

He was pale, eyes shut tightly as he shivered in place.

“Just a second, General. Just going to apply pressure to these…” Oxy worked quickly, pulling back the bandages trying to stop the reopened wounds from bleeding anymore than they already had.

“Obi-Wan…” Cody said softly, tentatively sitting down on the medical bed by Obi-Wan’s side, ignoring the way that Skull hovered inches away, almost like he was waiting for him to keel over.

Obi-Wan failed to respond, his trembling hands pulling towards his face to press over his eyes. He shuddered once, opening his mouth like he might say something, then shut it abruptly.

“It’s okay, I’m right here.” Cody whispered, moving closer so he could gently press up against Obi-Wan’s arm. He wished he could hug him, pull him into an embrace like he wanted to, but the burns were everywhere, a distinct reminder of all the impending questions Cody needed to ask.

Not now. Obi-Wan didn’t need that now.

“...I don’t–” Obi-Wan spoke softly, then gently shook his head once.

“Do you feel sick, General?” Skull asked, leaning down a little to take a proper look at Obi-Wan’s face. He seemed less concerned now, but it did little to ease Cody’s own nerves.

“Mhm.” Was all Obi-Wan said, voice muffled by his hands. He paused for a few seconds, “I just– I want to go to my quarters.” He spoke the words unnaturally quickly, “Please.”

Cody glanced up to Skull, who looked somehow horrified and skeptical all at once. He pursed his lips, arms crossed over his chest. Cody already knew the medic wouldn’t want to allow it, not now, not with unexpected seizures and open wounds, and blood everywhere. Cody wished he could protest, demanding that he be allowed to take Obi-Wan home and tuck him in bed, safe from all the reminders of pain and suffering that the medbay seemed to elicit.

Yet, Skull wasn’t stupid, and Cody wasn’t a doctor.

He needed to find a compromise.

“Skull,” Cody started, “Give me time alone with the General, only a few minutes.” Cody said, hoping his tone sounded as commanding as he meant it to.

Skull looked no less skeptical, and reached for a datapad sitting on the table by the medical bed. “I have tests to run, Cody. There’s a poss–”

“Can it wait ten minutes?” Cody cut in, noticing the way that Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably by his side, sucking in a pained breath as Oxy pressed another bandage against his back.

“Yes– fine. You will alert me if anything– anything at all – seems off.” Skull said, tone clipped but somehow still empathetic. He looked between Cody and Obi-Wan and sighed. “Almost done, Oxy?” He asked, impatient as ever.

“All set, General.” Oxy said, and rounded the bed, “Try and stay still; don’t lay on your back.”

Cody nodded when Obi-Wan didn’t, then pulled the curtain around the bed when the two medics walked away, Skull heading for his storage closet, and Oxy toward the lab.

When he returned to the bed, Obi-Wan had lowered his hands to his lap and the trembling had been reduced to a few odd shakes every few seconds. Cody pulled the chair in front of him, sitting down and leaning forward, pressing the palms of his hands on Obi-Wan’s jaw gently.

He wanted to ask about Kadavo, about the thousands of little wounds that littered Obi-Wan’s body. Who hurt you? Where do I find them?

Cody resisted the urge, knowing it would do little to smooth out the already existent tension that filled the space between them

“It’s not the first time.” Obi-Wan cut him off, then suddenly clamped a hand over his mouth, skin seemingly becoming a shade lighter in the matter of seconds.

Cody reached for the bin left by the side of the bed and managed to push it into Obi-Wan’s arms just in time. Obi-Wan emptied his stomach of whatever liquid still remained and breathed heavily, lips red. I’m sorry, Cody wanted to say, but the words didn’t quite make it out.

Not the first time .

The prospect of it made Cody’s skin crawl. Had he missed something? “Not the first time?” He asked, placing the bin aside and wiping Obi-Wan’s lips with a tissue he’d found on the table by the bed.

“When I was young– a padawan. Triggered by… electricity, among other things. It has been… a very long time.”

Cody didn’t want to ask why, as a padawan, he had any exposure to raw electricity on more than one occasion, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I– they beat me, constantly, for days with electro-staffs on Kadavo.” Obi-Wan said after a momentary pause, then looked up, searching Cody’s eyes as if he wanted approval, like he wanted to know if the admission would offend the Commander.

Cody was left with nothing to say, nothing productive at least. I’ll kill them all. Fury spread through his veins, but he was level-headed enough to know that Obi-Wan wouldn’t want him to say that. Cody was too empathetic to even allow the thought to simmer for more than a few seconds before he wiped it away.

“You need to tell, Skull.” He murmured after a few minutes. He had pressed his forehead against Obi-Wan’s.

Obi-Wan leaned back, eyebrows raised. “I need to?” He asked.

“Yes– he needs to know. What if this happens again? What if it happens again when you aren’t in the medbay? There has to be some sort of medication or–” Cody caught himself rambling, then shook his head, eyes trained on a tiny fleck of dirt left on the floor next to Obi-Wan’s soiled clothes. “I can’t lose you.”

Obi-Wan sighed, tipping his face into his hands again. “I– I don’t feel well.” He said quietly, and Cody caught him as he swayed. Fuck. They were going to have to talk about it, but Cody knew he had pushed too far. Obi-Wan looked exhausted, he was hurting, body barely keeping him upright.

Suddenly, Skull’s head poked into the enclosed space, his eyebrows raised as he observed Cody’s position between Obi-Wan’s legs. “Oh– am I interrupting something?” He asked, in that tone that made Cody’s blood boil.

Sure, Skull knew things now, but Cody thought the admission would at least keep him quiet. No– that didn’t seem to be Skull’s style at all. It was almost as if Skull liked to push his buttons even more now.

“No.” Cody answered bluntly. It certainly hadn’t been five minutes, much less ten.

“General, I brought you some new briefs– thought you might appreciate Cody’s help putting them on instead.” Fuck . Cody cursed internally, already imagining all the ways he could throw Skull up against the nearest wall, but Skull only threw the clean set of briefs at him and closed the curtains before leaving.

Karking Skull .

Cody eyed the wet patch on Obi-Wan’s groin, grimacing as he saw the red that had spread across Obi-Wan’s cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry– that just happens.” Obi-Wan whispered the words.

“Oh, Ob’ika, it’s okay. Let me help.”

Cody made quick work of slipping off Obi-Wan’s old briefs and getting the new ones on him, only cringing once when Obi-Wan winced in pain as the fabric brushed against his ankle.

They sat quietly for a few more minutes, Cody hoping the momentary freedom from medical attention would be enough to keep Obi-Wan calm. Then Skull returned, Oxy behind him rolling a mobilized tank of bacta, the strong medicinal smell already causing Cody’s toes to curl.

“Alright, General, let’s get that leg fixed.”

Skull had endured two days more of Obi-Wan in the medbay.

And really, Cody as well. The Commander had only left once, just to return with a new set of tunics discreetly tucked away in his pack.

Obi-Wan felt ill for a day, his post-seizure state keeping him pinned to the bed. In some ways, that was a good thing. Typically, Skull would have fought him to keep him laying down, but Kenobi had barely protested.

Cody was truly to be blamed for the General’s strangely cooperative behavior. He was a beacon of consistency and reason and care. He slept in the uncomfortable chair by the medical bed without a question or complaint, even convincing the usually stubborn General to agree to a short stint in the bacta tank to get his electrical burns healed up faster.

It was both fascinating, and horrifying watching them interact.

Skull watched the General closely for both days, watching for the prolonged stares and signs of an aura. It almost worried him more when none of those symptoms presented. While a single seizure could have been an isolated event, Kenobi had seemed… relatively unphased. Sure, he was sick, suffering from a number of other injuries, but he hadn’t tried to deny the fact he had a seizure at all.

Out of character. Stange.

So Skull discharged him, albeit with some reluctance, but with a firm look sent in Cody’s direction, and his famed command to, “Keep the physical activity to a minimum, Sir, even if Cody insists.”

That earned him a glare from Cody, and a reminder that his face would look better not smashed into a wall. Cody loved to bluff, and Skull really liked to call him on it.

Days later, Skull began his in depth research.

“I find it hard to believe that this was his first seizure.” Skull murmured, eyes scanning over the General’s documents, yet again. It seemed to have become a trend these days.

“He never explicitly said it was his first– but I think you’re right, he was… too calm.” Oxy had taken half of the stack of flimsies and had kicked his legs up onto his desk as he scanned over them.

“There’s nothing– not since he was an adult, at least.” Skull shook his head, rubbing over his eyes before he arranged the last of the flimsi that pertained to Obi-Wan’s twentieth to twenty-fifth years. He reached for the next stack, “Onto fifteen-to-nineteen.” He said, mostly to himself.

“Don’t you think he would have mentioned it?” Oxy said, forcing Skull to glare at him. How many times had he complained to Oxy about the General withholding information? Hundreds? Thousands of times?

Skull scoffed, “Of course not– he probably would try and explain it away with some Force-osik.”

Skull scanned through another page, then another, then–

His eyes caught on something notable.

– triggers include excessive alcohol consumption, prolonged malnutrition, prolonged exposure to extreme heat, and/or dehydration, contact with electrical current–

Skull stopped reading– it was textbook, completely obvious to his trained eye as a medic, but apparently diagnosed as something called, “Trigger-Based Vision Events (TBVE).”

Really, it was banthashit, some kriffing made-up Jedi idiocy for an easily diagnosable issue.

Epilepsy.

He ripped the page out of the file folder and held it up to Oxy. “No wonder I missed it– guess they’re blaming the Force. Typical.”

Oxy took the flimsi into his hands and read it quickly, mouth drawn into a hard line. “Fucking Jedi. Doesn’t explain why there isn’t anything in his more recent files.”

It was a good point; Skull struggled to believe that there hadn’t been a single event noted since the General was a teenager, but if the triggers listed were true to his condition, it was entirely a possibility that Kenobi had managed to avoid seizures for years. Skull was sure he wasn’t medicated either, it wasn’t something he would miss in all the time knowing the General.

Then, an idea came to mind– Quinlan.

Quinlan was a Jedi, and from what Skull had collected, he and the General had grown up together, and had remained rather close. Of anyone, including Cody, he was probably the one with the most information.

If he asked Kenobi, of course he would downplay things. Cody would be honest, but he had very little material to work with, given he had never reported a similar event to Skull.

A third party seemed like an obvious choice… and perhaps a good excuse to see Quinlan.

Quinlan.

Skull loathed himself and the stupid, endlessly irritating way his brain kept conjuring up his image whenever his thoughts were clear. Truthfully, Skull hadn’t been around many natborns, most of his time spent with Kenobi, Skywalker, and Ahsoka. Sure, he had seen others beyond the three Jedi he worked with, but none of them quite as distracting as Quinlan.

“I have an idea.” He said to Oxy, hoping he wouldn’t catch on, “What if I talk to Quin? Kenobi’s old Jedi friend. He probably knows something.”

Oxy had stopped flipping through Kenobi’s file and snorted as he dropped his feet onto the floor. “Oh the tall pretty Jedi you had your eye on? Whatever you want, Cody.”

Fuck, Oxy was observant.

“Whatever Ox, you’re the one who called him pretty, not me.”

Skull figured Quinlan would come alone, but much to Skull’s surprise, then immense dread, Cody followed not far behind.

Kriff. Cody, to his credit, at least looked on edge enough that he would hopefully miss any of Skull’s lingering signs of attraction. Hopefully.

“Skull! Great to see you when Obes isn’t halfway dead.” Quinlan said, his whole face smiling as he held out his hand for Skull to shake.

Unexpectedly, Skull was pulled in for some strange natborn pseudo-hug that started with a handshake and ended with a slap on the back. “Erm– hello Quin.”

He tried, and failed to keep the warmth from creeping into his cheeks, but Quinlan’s smile, a thunderous laugh did little to help. “Cody.” Skull said after a moment, noticing the way that Cody stood off to the side, something like curiosity painted across his face.

“Skull. You wanted to speak with Vos about the General, and I thought I should be present.” Of course, how could Skull forget that Cody was now the General’s partner; they were so kriffing domestic.

Skull led the pair of men over to his desk, motioning to the two seats across from him as he sat heavily in his chair.

“Well, if you need a full rundown of all the shitty things Obes has let himself go through, I can name about one-hundred and thirty-seven events– just off the top of my head.” Quinlan leaned back in his chair, getting comfortable, and offered Skull another warm smile.

Skull returned it, his cheeks still burning despite his best efforts. “Oh well– I had something a little more specific in mind.”

“Kriff it– I’ve been itching to tell someone. You look like you enjoy a good story.” Quinlan said, earning him a glare from the Commander.

“C’mon Vos, we don’t have all day.” Cody said, eyes still on Skull, now just a hint, a horrifying hint, of a smirk on his face.

Skull was going to have to do better at schooling his face.

He cleared his throat, looking down at his notes. “I’ll start with this: the General has epilepsy.”

Neither of the men blinked, or said anything. Cody, however, didn’t look particularly surprised. Skull made an educated guess that the General had told him since the seizure had happened. Knowing Cody, he would have had more to say if that wasn’t true.

“The Jedi called it ‘Trigger-Based Vision Events,’ which frankly, is stupid.” Skull continued, earning a chuckle from Quinlan.

“Agreed.” Quin said. “Go on.”

“Quin, I specifically need to know what you can remember about these seizures? They started when he was a teenager– caused by triggers– but they didn’t seem to continue into his twenties.” Skull tried not to make the question sound too accusatory, not wanting to imply that the General wasn’t taking care of himself. Cody would have his head if he did make such an accusation.

Quinlan thought for a moment, giving Skull a chance to observe the curve of his jawline, and the way his full lips curled downward as he thought.

Cody’s eyebrows rose as Skull glanced in his direction, now a fully smug look spread across his features. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“I don’t remember it happening often, but sometimes on a mission, he would have these small… blanks. He would be gone for a few seconds– then back to his old boring self. He called those visions, but they weren’t. Haven’t seen one of those in five years.”

Skull considered that for a moment. Of course they hadn’t been reported, it sounded like most of his seizures had been absence seizures, barely noticeable when compared to the tonic-clonic. “Any like the one you saw the other day?” He asked Quin.

“No– unless you want to count the time–”

“No, that doesn’t count.” Cody cut in, voice deep and gruff. Quin held back a laugh, clutching his stomach, bicep flexing as he did so. Skull ignored said flexing as best as he was able to.

Skull glanced between them before turning to Cody, “And Cody? Seen anything?”

“No– neither.” He answered, to the point like always, “I just found out about them myself. I asked him to tell you, but I figured you would figure it out anyway.”

Idiots, the both of them, wasting his time like that. Nevertheless, Skull continued, getting to the point just like Cody liked to.

“Anything since the seizure the other day?” Skull asked, just to make sure, if anything; he hadn’t received much of an update since the General left the medbay.

“Yes Cody, anything you noticed in your shared quarters?” Quinlan chimed in, echoing exactly what Skull thought he might say. Damnit, he was perfect.

“...no.” Cody answered as evenly as possible.

There was more discussion, more questions, more banter, and Skull could feel his own fondness creeping into his tone, Cody still watching with wide, observant eyes.

Quin stood, hands on his hips, some time later and grabbed his lightsaber from his side. “Well boys, duty calls, and I should have been out of here three hours ago.” Quinlan turned to face Skull, offering another warm smile, “Skull, might need to schedule a check-up with you next time I’m on the Negotiator, you’re much nicer than Vokara Che.”

“Oh– of course… Quin. It was nice to see you.” Skull hated how the awkwardness layered his tone, and the way that he could feel Cody’s burning gaze on his face even as Quinlan walked toward the exit with a wave.

“Oh this is unbelievable.” Cody’s voice cut into Skull’s consciousness.

“What?” Skull said, standing abruptly and rounding the desk, trying to lead Cody toward the door as quickly as possible.

“Oh, you know what.” Cody said and Skull could hear his stupid smile in his voice. “Wonder what he needs checked, Skull– bet I can guess.” Skull could have never predicted this, would never live it down. Fuck, he needed more blackmail material on Cody.

“You’re full of shit, Cody.” Skull shot back, “Now get out of my medbay, or I’m gonna give you a reason to be here.”

For the first time ever, Skull saw Cody laugh.

One week and one day after Obi-Wan’s seizure, they were assigned a mission on Jakku, one of Obi-Wan’s least favorite planets, he’d told Cody.

While bacta had closed the open wounds, their ache had continued long afterward. Not that Obi-Wan would admit that, it was mostly Cody’s observation.

But the thing was, there wasn’t time. There never was really time to heal, or rest, or even sit in silence for an hour or two; Cody understood, he was as much a member of the GAR as anyone else. Extra rest had a high cost, and no one soldier, especially the Jedi, wanted to be responsible for that.

But the General, Obi-Wan, hadn’t even allowed himself a minute of rest it seemed. Did he really ever, though?

His skin was pale under the Jakku sun, sweat reflecting the bright light and lips cracked and dry. Cody could see the sweat stains across Obi-Wan’s back that had been slowly curling around his sides in the past hour they had been stalking through the desert just outside of Reestkii. They had been waiting for an informant, now an overly late informant, who seemed to be unbothered by keeping them waiting in the blazing heat.

There were few times Cody was thankful to wear full armor, but the cooling mechanism, though it barely made an effect on the blazing heat of Jakku, offered some mild relief.

Obi-Wan was not so lucky, his tunics made of thick material.

Cody had watched him switch from pacing, to standing arms crossed and brow furrowed, to head hanging and shoulders sagging where he stood.

Skull glanced at him from where he stood with a number of the vode, conversing about something unimportant. Their resolve to wait in formation had since gone to the wayside and Cody could hardly bring himself to care, not when Obi-Wan looked like he was finally letting the heat get to him.

General alright?

Skull signed to Cody quickly and discreetly, eyes glancing to where Obi-Wan had sunk to a crouch, one hand planted in the sand, the other held over his brow like he was searching the horizon for something.

Standby .

Cody signed back to him, not bothering to wait for a response before approaching Obi-Wan.

“Obi-Wan? Cyar’ika?” Cody spoke the words low as he approached, not wanting the surrounding troopers to hear his lack of formality. He crouched next to Obi-Wan, who startled, jumping lightly and looking at Cody with wide eyes. He licked his chapped lips and offered an unconvincing smile.

“Oh! Cody– hello.” Obi-Wan said back, voice unusually coarse. Cody eyed the waterbottle sitting in front of him in the sand, then reached out to shake it.

Kriff. It was empty. He could have sworn he saw Obi-Wan pick it up and drink from it moments earlier. Cody wondered how long it had been since he had gotten water into his system.

“You doing alright?” He asked, trying to keep the concern in his voice at bay.

“Of course– just is… rather warm.” Obi-Wan said, breaths coming in quicker than Cody thought they should. He swayed on his feet, Cody catching his arm, then he stood, wiping off the front of his tunic like that might eliminate the sand that was stuck to the sweat stains that now seemed to trail around the majority of his upper body and behind his knees.

“Maybe it’s time we head back into town? The informant should have come by now.” Cody realized it was a longshot, and maybe too obvious of a ploy to get Obi-Wan out of the direct heat, but to Cody’s surprise, the General took the bait.

“You’re right, I suppose. No use waiting any longer.” Obi-Wan glanced around, squinting in the bright daylight, then blinking profusely, “Can you tell the men?” He asked politely, but Cody could see the weariness reflected in his stare.

“Of course.” Cody answered.

And so he did. The men were relieved, all except for Skull, who sidled up next to Cody, a short distance behind the General who led the group with a slow, unsteady trudge alongside Waxer.

“The heat is getting to him– did he have water?” Skull asked, then answered himself, “Bet you he doesn’t… di’kut.”

“Hey–” Cody tried to come to Obi-Wan’s defense, which wasn’t exactly justified, but it was Obi-Wan; he would defend in any case.

“Oh come on, Cody, you know it’s true.” Skull said, scoffing and shaking his head. “The minute we get back into town, you are corralling him into bed and he is drinking at least three water bottles. It’s– that’s one of his triggers, dehydration.” Nevermind the heat, which Skull had also mentioned as a possible trigger.

Cody sucked in a breath, remembering what Skull was referring to. Right, epilepsy . Even a week wasn’t enough time for Cody to fully process the information, the sudden reappearance of a forgotten health issue that Obi-Wan seemed to take less seriously than he should.

“I will.” Cody said, nodding in affirmation.

He and Skull watched Obi-Wan from behind, observing how his gait became more labored the closer they got to town. Then– he stopped.

“Kriff.” Cody heard from beside himself as he rushed forward, watching Obi-Wan bend at the waist, knees buckling into the sand before Cody or Skull could reach him.

Kriff was right.

Skull hadn’t gotten to him fast enough, and Obi-Wan’s palms dug into the hot sand. “Help me get him sitting.” The medic said to someone, but probably Cody. Waxer stepped back from Obi-Wan and Cody took his place, kneeling heavily in the dirt, now noticing the droplets of sweat curling down from Obi-Wan’s forehead to his neck.

Together, he and Skull got Obi-Wan sitting down, but it didn’t make much of a difference in Obi-Wan’s appearance.

“Obi-Wan?” Cody called softly, trying to use his fingers to wipe away the beads of sweat that were close to falling into his eyes. Obi-Wan ignored him, eyes trained on something in the distance.

There was movement, sounds of yelling right by his ear, then Cody turned to find that Skull had scanned Obi-Wan’s temperature. It was high– far to high. Skull offered him another water bottle, and Obi-Wan sipped at it greedily before setting it aside.

“He’s overheating– we need to get into town, need to find shade. Now, Cody.” Skull looked at him, uncompromising, unwilling to wait for Cody to be ready.

The Commander swallowed, thirsty and tired himself, but nodded, taking Obi-Wan’s arm and hoisting him to his feet. Obi-Wan swayed, feet barely holding him prone.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Obi-Wan whispered, trying to regain his footing, but failing. Cody clung to his arm, Skull holding him up with the other. Skull eyed him, waiting for something.

Right, Cody needed to say something. “Obi– General,” He corrected himself, noticing the group of his men who had formed a circle around them, “We have to move. It’s just a short way.”

Skull nodded in affirmation, and they moved, slowly.

They were hardly more than a klick away from the outskirts of the city, but the walk took twice the time it should have. Obi-Wan made attempts to walk, but that almost made the walk worse. Cody’s heart thumped heavily in his chest with each bead of sweat that dropped off of Obi-Wan’s face and landed on his armour.

Is he supposed to be sweating this much? Cody wished he could ask Skull, but they were approaching the edge of the city, and the medic was already barking out orders. “Waxer, go ahead and see if anyone has cold water– or ice. Priority on the ice.” Skull looked in the other direction, “Clip, find somewhere for us to take him, we need shade.”

Both troopers saluted, then ran in the direction of the first groupings of tents and old metal buildings.

“The rest of you go ahead and see if you can clear the way for us.” Skull said to the remaining troopers, and Cody nodded when a few of them looked in his direction for approval.

“I’m not–” Obi-Wan stopped between them, digging his heels into the ground. His eyes had gone wide, lips stuck half open.

“What’s wrong? Do you need to sit? Water?” Cody asked as Skull held up the bottle once again. Obi-Wan pushed it aside, bending at the waist to throw up what little water he had consumed before.

Kark it all.

“Shit, Cody– we need to move, just– pick him up.” Cody blinked at him, then nodded hesitantly like he was a shiny in training, unsure of his objective.

Cody nearly ran, Obi-Wan whimpering in his arms, Skull just a hair in front of him.

Cody hoped, practically prayed to the fucking Force, that someone had found shade and water and ice. He couldn’t take it, the way Obi-Wan’s pained moans rang out, and the way his hair and clothes were too damp.

When they reached the outer limits of the city, eyes of locals all trained toward the three of them, Waxer was standing underneath a tent.

“We’ve found a location– follow me.” Thank the kriffing Force.

They followed closely behind Waxer, and Cody’s arms began to burn, Obi-Wan’s weight becoming heavier by the second.

“Heat stroke– that’s what it is.” Skull said abruptly from behind him as they weaved through a few alleyways. Cody noted that several of his men had been posted at the entrances of the alleys, keeping the path clear for them, “When we get there, we need to get his clothes off and get him cooled down. Got it?”

“Yes.” Cody answered, holding back the tears that threatened to well in his eyes.

It was all too much– the electric burns, the seizure, the epilepsy, and now, heat stroke. Cody needed Obi-Wan to be fine, to be himself, but the Jedi had only gotten a few days to breathe. Cody had only gotten a few days to breathe. They needed time, but there wasn’t any time to spare.

They reached the entrance of an old, metal building when Waxer stopped, motioning toward the open door where two troopers were posted.

Cody nodded his thanks, and walked in, immediately overtaken by sight before him. While there was no bed, a large wooden table had been cleared in someone’s rickety old kitchen. Someone threw a blanket over the table and Cody gently lowered Obi-Wan onto the table.

One look at him revealed just how bad the situation was. Obi-Wan’s neck had become red and swollen, a rash curling up the sides. His hair was completely soaked through, and clothes nearly in the same condition.

“Everyone out who doesn’t need to be here. Water?” Skull’s voice was commanding, capturing the attention of the surrounding troopers.

“Right there, Skull.” Someone said, then they were gone, all of them in a split second. Or maybe Cody had frozen again.

Cody assumed the latter when he looked up to find Skull staring at him, “Cody– c’mon, this isn’t the time to space out– help me get these off.” Then Skull was pulling at Obi-Wan’s belt. Cody followed suit, pulling at Obi-Wan’s boots and then pants.

“General, we’re going to cool you down, hold tight.” Skull said, offering a weak smile as he ripped the undershirt from Obi-Wan’s torso.

“Don’t feel so… Cody?” Obi-Wan looked at him hazily, fever blazing in his half-lidded eyes.

“Right here, always right here.” Cody answered as he pressed a hand on Obi-Wan’s head for a moment. He wished he had something better to say, something that could fix everything.

Skull brought over a soaked rag, and placed it on Obi-Wan’s neck over the heat rash which had steadily crept down his torso.

Obi-Wan exhaled with the cool contact on his blistering skin. Skull handed Cody a few soaked rags, “Put these under his armpits.” Cody followed instructions and noted the way Skull had pressed more rags around Obi-Wan’s head and shoulders. Skull handed him more, “And around…” He pointed down toward Obi-Wan’s groin. No wonder he’d put Cody in charge of that.

Cody did as instructed, and watched Obi-Wan begin to shiver. The water was barely cold, maybe even lukewarm.

“Alright– alright.” Skull said, stepping back and pulling his scanner from his utility belt, “We will give it five minutes, then I’ll check his temperature– it should go down by then.”

Cody nodded, numbly, and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He crouched by Obi-Wan’s head as Skull rummaged through his medical kit for something, “Obi-Wan?” He asked– his eyes were shut as his shivering slowed.

Obi-Wan blinked open his eyes. He looked confused, disoriented almost, like he could barely remember the events of the last hours, “Hmm…?” It was phrased as a question.

“Feeling better at all? Cooler?” The rash hadn’t disappeared, his flesh still red and irritated. Warmth still radiated from his skin, almost burning the tips of Cody’s fingers when he reached to stroke across the outside of Obi-Wan’s ribs.

“...no.” Obi-Wan answered eventually. Hesitantly.

No. Something wasn’t right– Obi-Wan wouldn’t say no unless–

Cody looked up to find Skull staring at him. Dehydration, extreme heat, both were listed as triggers.

“Sir– do you think you’re going to have a seizure?” Skull asked tentatively, crouching opposite of Cody, grimacing when Obi-Wan didn’t answer for several long moments.

“I think–”

There wasn’t time for Obi-Wan to think, much less warn them–

It happened again, equally as shocking as it had been only a week earlier–

“Fuck– fuck!”

Skull swore, and Cody could only watch helplessly as Obi-Wan’s body convulsed.

#well here I am on part 8 of what was supposed to be a one shot lol #SKULL IS back #in this edition roles are reversed for Skull and Cody #codywan #fanfiction #ihathbenobiwankenobied #fanfic #cc 2224 #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #hurt/comfort #whump #seizures #sickfic #heat stroke #The Clone Wars #OC 212th lead medic Skull #212th clone medic skull #skull

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ihathbenobiwankenobied · 1 year

Text

soldier left behind

Part four of 212th Medic Skull Has Had Enough on ao3

Part one | Part two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary:

“I–” Obi-Wan started, then looked back toward the forest, “Cody didn’t come back.” He spat the words out so quickly, Skull could hardly follow.

(Or, yet another follow-up to Skull's infamous run-in with the 212th's newest secret couple. This time, an injured Cody is left in the forest and Obi-Wan, Skull, and new shiny medic Splint go to find him before nightfall.)

Word Count: 4,414

Chapter 1/2

Skull hated fighting, hated having to raise his blaster, even if it was the one thing he had been created to do. He supposed he had been trained to be a medic his whole life outside of being a soldier, so of course his first point of interest was not running aimlessly into a field of droids who were quite literally designed to kill him.

Skull swore under his breath as blaster fire whizzed past his head, cursed out General Skywalker for getting them into this position in the first place.

If General Kenobi was risky, Skywalker took it to another level; he was self-sacrificing but surprisingly confident about it. Skull was happy to not have been assigned as his medic, but that didn’t mean he was exempt from Skywalker’s abhorrent decisions.

Cody’s voice was loud through his comlink, commanding all of the troops to fall back, there were reinforcements coming in. Skull followed orders gladly and booked it away from the oncoming line of clankers, hoping his brothers would do the same; he would be the one to have to fix them up anyway.

Feet carrying him backward through a maze of thick, leafy trees, Skull heard the crackling sound of more orders from Cody through his comlink. He could barely hear over the continued blaster fire pelting into the tree trunks on all sides of him and the surrounding troopers.

“Toward basecamp!” Someone yelled, having heard the orders. Reorienting himself, he changed directions, feet catching on the tree roots that layered the forest bed in his haste.

He ran for longer than he had in a long time, lungs pulling in harsh, short breaths as he began to see the edges of a clearing ahead of him. No one spoke as they ran, equally unwilling to waste their breath on needless conversation. Skull sucked in a big breath, and pushed his legs to go faster as they approached the clearing; basecamp was only a quarter of a klick away from the edge of it, and Skull was more than willing to get there sooner rather than later.

By the time he and the other troopers could see the tents looming in the distance, Skull looked back to see a muddy group of twenty or so troopers, a few of them limping or holding an arm against their chest. Skull pulled his comlink to his face.

“Oxy, twenty of us incoming. I estimate three leg wounds, two troopers with blasts to the bicep and shoulder.” He liked to keep his counterpart informed and prepared; Force knew he was going to have to sit for at least a couple of minutes to regain he breath after having run so far.

“Noted.” Oxy answered immediately, “You alright there, Skully?” He stifled a laugh through the connection and Skull growled under his breath.

“You trying running four klicks away from clankers.” Skull said, breaths coming in faster.

“I’ll save a medical bed for you.” Oxy told him.

Skull didn’t bother responding, just slowed down considerably as he approached the first of the makeshift barracks. The men surrounding him did the same, stripping off their buckets to take a few breaths of fresh air, not quite as thick as it had been in the humid center of the jungle.

Approaching the small medical tent which sat beside the makeshift supply tent, Skull directed the injured men following him to triage with one of the shinies that had been brought on to work with him and Oxy. The shiny, Splint, looked on nervously as Skull directed the troops his way. It was his first time in the field, only having been surrounded with every piece of high-tech medical equipment in the galaxy.

Skull tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but he would be the first to admit he wasn’t feeling overly up to it as he sat heavily on a weapons crate outside the tent. “Is that it, Sir? Are there any still on the way?” Splint asked expectantly, his eyes tracing over the tree line in the distance, almost like he was waiting for more to pop out of it at any second.

They had gone in with forty, and barely twenty had returned; Skull knew what Splint was thinking.

Skull hated that he didn’t know if anyone was left behind, that he couldn’t save every single last one of his brothers, but the reality was, not everyone would make it, and that was something he had to live with as a medic.“I’m sorry– I don’t know. Just focus on what’s in front of you now, Splint, if they make it back, they make it back.”

Splint sighed, then saluted, “Of course, Sir.” He nodded once, then spun on his heel to join Oxy back in the tent.

Skull sat for another minute, then began to pull at his plates of armor. He worked better when he wasn’t constricted by layers of thick plastoid.

Once he had piled the plates beside himself, he was about to get up to head into the medical tent, but his eyes caught on something in the distance.

Alongside another large supply crate, both General Kenobi and Skywalker stood with their arms crossed, obviously in a very intense discussion over something. Skywalker held his head high and seemingly indignant. Kenobi looked equally frustrated, but instead of standing still, he paced back and forth, hand occasionally reaching up to stroke over his beard.

While the image wasn’t inherently unusual, the look on Kenobi’s face was not.

The General looked, for lack of a more dignified term, frantic.

Frantic wasn’t something a High General in the GAR often embodied, even in the face of a losing battle.

Skull stood slowly, watching as the two Generals spoke under their breath to each other, then parted ways with one last biting word from Skywalker. The younger Jedi strode off, confidence rolling off of him as he moved in the direction of the 501st barracks.

General Kenobi stood in place for a moment, forehead dropping into the palm of his hand.

Skull could hardly take it, seeing the General standing alone, clearly upset. Where was Cody? He glanced across the horizon, over the whole encampment, suddenly feeling a small pit form in his stomach as he watched Skywalker and Rex convening by a fire with a few other troopers from the 501st.

Cody would have been with the General if he had returned, Skull had no doubts about that. Which meant…

Skull abandoned his stripped armor, walking the short distance toward the supply crate where Obi-Wan had taken to staring off toward the forest line, much the way Splint had just minutes earlier.

“Uh, General, everything alright?” He asked tentatively as he approached Kenobi from behind.

The General startled, whipping around with wide eyes, mouth ajar.

“Oh!” He said quietly, then offered the most watery, insincere smile that Skull had ever witnessed in his life.

And they say Kenobi is the most convincing negotiator in the GAR, Skull thought, barely able to see past the sullen eyes and grim look that pressed at his face against his best efforts to shield it.

“I’m fine Skull; hardly even had to use my lightsaber.” Kenobi continued, almost automatic in his insistence that he was perfectly fine.

“Sir– I’m not talking about your physical state this time.” Skull placed a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, hoping some grounding touch would do something to coax a moment of honesty out of his obstinate bones.

“I–” Obi-Wan started, then looked back toward the forest, “Cody didn’t come back.” He spat the words out so quickly, Skull could hardly follow.

Once he had a moment to process, Skull realized he was right, the Commander was missing.

“I sense– I think he is hurt, I can’t be certain– but I can’t leave him out there.”

“And Skywalker thinks you should?” Skull asked, almost dumbfounded that the younger Jedi even got an opinion on whether Cody was worth going back for or not.

“Not exactly– he thinks it dangerous, it’s getting dark, and the light will be completely gone by the time we get to him. We have no idea what position the separatists hold and–” Skull couldn’t take the rambling, the attempt to justify Skywalker’s opinion.

“Banthashit.” Skull said firmly. Kenobi looked at him, blinking once, “No way the seppies are going to be combing the forest in the dark if they think anything like Skywalker– their clankers can barely shoot straight in the daylight.”

The last comment at least got a small sniffle of acknowledgement from the General, but he still looked defeated, his worry evident. Skull pointed out toward the trees, “I’ll go with you out there all night if we need– I just need my armor and my kit.”

“Skull– please, don’t be ridiculous. We can’t go without backup. Anakin is right that this could be risky.” Obi-Wan said, voice trailing off at the end.

Anakin took enough risks of his own, Kenobi certainly was allowed to take a calculated one to save an irreplaceable Commander.

“Well, you’re in luck, I have a shiny who can join us.” Skull glanced back toward the medical tent. Sure, Oxy might be a little pissy to have to take on five injured troopers on his own, but the Commander’s life was just as important as any trooper’s was; he was a brother.

Obi-Wan looked him right in the eye.

“Are you sure, Skull? Cody is very capable– he could survive the night–” It was like Kenobi was trying to convince himself he should stay back. Skull wasn’t having it.

“So you’re going to act like this isn’t bothering you, Sir? I have seen– I know how you feel about him.”

Obi-Wan sighed and shook his head, “We should discuss this later.”

“Then we’re going?” Skull asked, and the General offered one affirming nod.

“Seriously, Skull? Those idiots need to get it together.” Oxy placed a fresh bacta patch over a trooper's bloody blaster wound on his shoulder. Splint looked on, albeit nervously. Skull had informed him that he would be joining him out in the rainforest.

“Oh believe me, I agree. I’m going to have to request individual medics for each of them at this rate.” Skull shook his head and strapped his medical kit over his shoulder, securing it as tightly as he could. “If we’re not back in three hours, notify Skywalker.”

With that, he motioned for Splint to follow, his own medkit strapped across his chest, and they headed out toward where Kenobi stood idly outside, not really looking at anything at all. He hardly looked dejected anymore, just… numb.

Skull hated it.

“You ready to go?” Skull asked tentatively, watching as Kenobi startled again.

“Yes– I’m ready. Are you the new medic?” Kenobi held out his hand to Splint, who looked alarmed at the offer.

“Oh–yes! I’m CT-3330.” Splint said sheepishly and shook the General’s hand firmly.

“Do you go by any other names…” Kenobi searched for something else to call him, something more than a serial number. Skull liked that about his General.

“It’s Splint, Sir. Thank you for asking.” Kenobi offered Splint a gentle smile, but it quickly faded when Skull cleared his throat.

“We need to head out; the faster we find him, the more likely he’s still alive.” Skull stepped forward leading the way into the quickly darkening forest.

Kenobi didn’t know the exact coordinates of where he had last seen Cody, but he had a general idea, a feeling. It had been in a small clearing just below a steep cliff. The General was convinced it could be seen from a klick away, but they had not such luck as they stepped over creaking roots and fallen branches that had taken blaster fire earlier.

They had all tried to com the commander, multiple times at this point, but none of them had received a response.

Kenobi was on edge; his usual poise and precise methods seemed to have all but disappeared. His moves were irrational, tugging the trio from place to place without any real logic.

Skull tried to not let his frustration show through, keeping calm as he followed closely behind the shivering General, but Splint, always tense, was becoming more vocal about needing to change their search route at the very least.

“I think we have already searched here– should we move farther east?” Splint suggested, but Kenobi just shook his head and shivered again in the cool night air. Skull should have reminded Kenobi to put on an extra few shirts under his tunic.

“I could swear it was close to this location. If I could just…” Think. Skull mentally filled in the rest of the sentence.

He understood, panic wasn’t a helpful tool when it came to memory, and he could tell the General was just barely holding it together. Skull did not miss the way Kenobi lost focus, eyes drifting across the distant layers of trees. He ground his teeth together loud enough that Skull could hear it.

“Sir, let’s stop for a minute. It’s late, I know this is stressful. Do you want to… meditate? Would that help?” Skull didn’t know much about Force-osik, but if it would help the General focus, he would suggest anything.

“You’re right, Skull, I’m not thinking clearly.” Kenobi said after a long pause, he glanced around and started toward a small patch of roots that wasn’t coated in mud. He sat down, crossing his legs together and taking a deep breath. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Skull didn’t watch, it felt private, and instead, looked through his medical supplies again, checking to see if there was an additional ration bar or some water he could offer the General before they continued the search. He didn’t find anything, and looked up to see Splint staring at the Jedi, wide eyed.

“Strange, huh?” He said as he clipped the med kit back together, acknowledging that seeing the Jedi hovering inches above the ground, deep behind a wall of meditative solitude.

“I’ve heard the Jedi are different, but this is…” Splint blinked a few times, then shook his head.

Kenobi dropped to the ground gracefully, bloodshot eyes opening slowly as he stood. While he didn’t look any less worried, his face was clearer, and more determined. He looked up toward the tops of the trees, then in each direction, hands tracing across the bark of the passing trees as he paced. “I know the way. It’s a klick north.”

Skull couldn’t believe it; he was starting to think Kenobi needed to meditate more often.

“Let’s get going then, there’s barely any light left.” Skull said, motioning for Splint to follow alongside him.

They followed their General closely, the last of the light seeping through the trees as they clamored across more tree roots and dense mud.

“Just up ahead.” Kenobi whispered suddenly, pointing toward a towering cliff that would have been much easier to see in broad daylight. The General picked up speed and the two medics followed his lead, stomping through a few deep craters of muddy sludge until they reached a small clearing at the base of the cliff.

There wasn’t much to look at in last of the light except for a few stacked boulders by the base of the cliff and several mangled trees clumped together. No sign of Cody in plain sight.

That’s a good sign, Skull reminded himself. If the Commander had been killed instantly or been completely debilitated, he wouldn’t have had the chance to take cover.

Kenobi stopped, and brought his finger up to his lips, eyes looking back and forth as he listened to the sounds of the jungle waiting to hear the metallic screeches of approaching clankers. Skull couldn’t hear anything other than the endless crackling of leaves and branches in the breeze and skittering animals. “Clear?” He asked the General, voice barely a whisper.

Kenobi nodded, and began to call out for the Commander, voice louder this time, “Cody? Commander?”

They waited patiently, all three men listening intently now for the Commander to say something, or to drag himself out into the open, but there was nothing.

Kenobi was back to looking distressed– no, frantic– again.

The General called out for Cody again, then again, each time his voice more desperate, until Skull placed a knowing hand on his shoulder, spinning him around. If the Commander wanted to say something, he would have, and they were wasting time. Kenobi was surprisingly irrational, his lack of composure becoming more apparent with every second passing.

It was alarming.

“General– let’s just take a look around.” He tried to sound encouraging, but Kenobi didn’t look satisfied with the suggestion.

So Skull pushed past him and toward the rocks at the base of the cliff which looked like an obvious place to take cover. He knelt down near an opening that looked large enough for someone to squeeze into, and began to consider climbing inside himself when–

“Uh– Skull?” Splint called for him tentatively and Skull whipped his head around, the lights on his bucket immediately landing on what Splint and the General were looking at: blood.

It was trailed across the dirt, and wouldn’t have been visible in the fading light. It led toward a similar cavern to the one Skull had been looking at, but only thinner.

Before Skull could walk over, Kenobi was already down on his knees, attempting to shuffle into the crawl space. Skull rushed over, pulling him back, “No, let Splint do it, he’s smaller than you.”

He hated to volunteer the shiny, but it was true, he was half a head shorter than Obi-Wan, and thinner than Skull due to his age. Thankfully, Splint didn’t hesitate, already shoving a hypo filled with painkillers into his belt.

“Obi-Wan?” Skull heard from behind the rocks. The voice was gruff, weak, and barely sounded like Cody, but it was him. Skull was almost relieved, but there was still the added factor of needing to remove him from the crawl space.

“I’m– I’m here my love.” Obi-Wan still knelt in the mud, eyes watering just around the corners. Skull tried to pretend he didn’t hear it, the admission was almost too blatant for him. Skull’s heart hurt hearing the desperation in the General’s tone.

“Splint is coming in, Commander. Let him give you the painkillers.” Skull said, once again dropping his medical kit onto the ground and throwing it open, “What are we looking at, Splint?” He asked, watching as the shiny disappeared deeper into the cavern.

There was a whimper, one that made the General cringe, eyes still wide, then Splint spoke muffled by the stones, “Two blaster wounds– one to the hip, the other to the shoulder, both on the left side. Concussion too. But I have no idea how he got in here.” Skull was mildly relieved, he had been expecting worse judging by the blood scraped across the ground, but blaster wounds were manageable.

“Can he stand?” Skull asked, but Splint was sure he couldn’t.

The General looked less relieved, and he spoke softly, “I can use the Force.”

“What?” Skull asked, not understanding what exactly the Force could be used for in the present.

Kenobi stood from his crouch and took a few steps back, adjusting his angle, “I can pull him out with the Force, hover him.” Kenobi answered, his focus regained.

Skull had seen him do it before in open air, but this was an entirely different situation, it was a tight cave, with little room for error.

“Are you sure?” Skull asked, but Kenobi shot him a look that spoke a thousand words. “Alright, Splint, get out of there.”

Once Splint had cleared the entrance, squeezing past the thin space between the rocks, Kenobi began, arms extended out in front of him, eyes narrowed and then closed.

His arms shook, then his whole body, and Skull watched the entrance to the cavern expectantly. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then Force-osik.

The General maneuvered Cody’s prone body through the tight opening, and though Cody let out a shattered scream with the movement, his body never scraped the sides of the stone.

Kenobi, his whole body shaking with the effort, slowly brought Cody’s body to rest on a less muddy patch, then collapsed onto his own knees, energy clearly spent.

“Kriff. Splint– get Kenobi sitting down, and a stim.” Skull wasn’t about to request that Splint try and carry the General back while he tried to handle Cody on his own.

Skull took to Cody’s side, eyeing the mess of dried blood across Cody’s forehead. While the blaster fire had hit his armor in multiple other places, he had been hit along his joints where the pieces of plastoid armor plating separated.

It must have been heavy fire, Skull thought. There was no way a clanker would be smart enough to hit those areas purposefully,

Cody’s eyes blinked open, breaths sucked in heavily as he recovered from being jostled. He looked up, blinking through the dirt in his eyelashes, and frowned. His eyes looked dull– drugged, really, Skull reminded himself. He had handed off the strongest dose of a painkiller-sedative concoction to Splint.

“Skull? Where’s–” Cody started hazily.

“Cody.” Skull’s head swiveled to find that Splint had been unsuccessful at getting the General sitting down; instead, Kenobi was staggering toward Cody, tripping into the mud, matted hair scattered over his forehead. He fell to his knees by Cody’s side, hand pressing into Cody’s instantaneously.

“Obi-Wan. You came back.” Splint looked at Skull, eyes filled with some concoction of shock and surprise. Skull supposed it was fair; generally, Sir, was a more appropriate term for a High General. Skull ignored the look, promising himself to explain later, and motioned to the still filled hypo in Splint’s grasp. The young trooper seemed to notice that he had yet to deliver the stim, and pressed the needle into Kenobi’s neck while the Jedi used a thumb on his other hand to wipe away some of the clotted blood still strewn across Cody’s forehead.

“Alright, Sir, you need to help me get this armor off of him before we head back to basecamp. We’ll get some bacta on him for now. Splint– get me bacta patches.”

Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment, still grasping at Cody’s hand, then he spoke to Cody softly. “Don’t panic, Codes,” Oh for the love of God, the nicknames were unbearable, “We’re just going to take these off.” Kenobi tapped at the plastoid armor of Cody’s chest.

The Commander looked at him lazily, then at Skull, worry spreading over his features suddenly.

“Here? I-I don’t know Obi-Wan…” The General’s cheeks grew redder than Skull could have ever imagined, and he refused to look in Skull’s direction.

“No!” Kenobi said firmly, then grumbled, “Just– we need to see the wounds. You need bacta.” Still not looking in Skull’s direction, the General reached for the chest plate, unclasping it at the sides with enough ease that Skull knew he had done it many times before.

How disgusting.

Skull started with the armor by his legs, leaving his boots on so they could try and drag him along if his pain was managed enough to walk.

Skull stripped him up to his waist, all but his codpiece, as Obi-Wan had removed all but his vambraces where his dead comlink was still attached. Awkwardly, not wanting to have to do it himself in front of Kenobi, Skull looked at the General hoping he would offer to remove the remaining piece of armor.

“Sir, can you take that off of him? I’ll need to see his hip.” Obi-Wan blinked at him, opened his mouth to say something, then abruptly shut his mouth and nodded. Skull could see his defined blush as he gently pulled the codpiece away and shimmied the pants of his blacks down past his hip bone.

Cody would never kriffing live this down once he found out when he was more lucid. Skull liked the idea of that just a little.

The blaster wound was bloody, skin torn and angry looking, but Skull couldn’t worry too much about it before he had access to better supplies; bacta patches were going to have to do.

“Splint did–”

“Right here, Skull.” Splint came into view, bacta patch already free of its packaging.

“Thank you.” He said, and positioned the patch over the wound. He had to press down to secure it and to get the bacta to react with the charred skin.

Cody clenched his teeth again, but a muffled whimper still made it through. The General winced, hand still holding back the waistband of Cody’s pants until Skull had covered the wound completely. Gently, Obi-Wan pulled the top of the pants back up, careful to avoid the wound.

“Kriffing hells.” Cody swore, voice slurring slightly as he flinched away from Skull’s touch as the medic moved to his shoulder, gently prodding at the edges of the inflamed blaster wound there.

“It’s okay, Codes.” Skull heard Obi-Wan whisper, his hand already entangled with Cody’s again.

Skull followed the same process, quickly taking the bacta patch from Splint and applying it with pressure. The Commander held in a groan, but physically recoiled away from Skull once the medic pulled away.

Skull moved backward, motioning for Splint to do the same, and let Cody ride out the last waves of pain. With his uninjured arm, he pressed a hand across his face and rubbed over his eyes. The General sat next to him, still looking exhausted and shaky from using the Force, but at the very least, the worry had drained from his eyes and turned into something more reverent as he let his fingers trail over Cody’s jawline for just a split second.

“They’re just like that, Splint– I’ll explain later.” He stood next to the shiny, who looked on with a mixture of disgust and fondness written across his features.

Skull concurred with that feeling.

“It’s… do they realize we’re here?” Splint asked, looking away.

“The vote is still out on that one– Cody still likes to pretend I don’t know they’re… a thing.” Skull let out a snort, smiling at Splint, then sighing when he realized they were still two klicks out from basecamp, were dealing with one half Force-exhausted Jedi, and a very loopy Commander.

Fucking kark it, it was going to be a long trip back.

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