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ihathbenobiwankenobied · 2 years

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Hello there again! The most wonderfully talented and kind @journen and I are here with out second installment for the @codywanreversebang event! I am continuously honored to have worked with Jurnee on this and I am elated that we get to share this second part with you all! Go see Journen's incredible artwork (the prompt that inspired this fic!!) on Tumblr and AO3

orbit me slowly

Summary:

In retrospect, perhaps Obi-Wan should have expected that Cody would keep his distance. After all, Obi-Wan’s last words to him hadn’t been his most… gentle.

Wait for me. Until after the war, until the dust settles. Then– we can have everything we want Cody…anything.

(Or, after an injury leaves Obi-Wan down and out, he realizes that time isn't as unlimited as he once believed)

Chapter 2/2

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound was incessant, burning in his consciousness endlessly. It was loud, but at the same time, it seemed so far away.

What is that treacherous noise?

Obi-Wan sunk further into awareness with a dull pounding of his head becoming very apparent. He let himself inhale, finding that something was covering his face. The rest of him felt like– well, nothing. It was more akin to the absence of feeling and the absence of pain.

It was an odd sensation, both feeling awake, but not fully cognizant, and Obi-Wan wracked his mind tirelessly for what was possibly happening. Even after a moment of consideration, his mind still seemed just as blank and empty. Then, he heard a voice floating somewhere far in the distance.

“–Wan?” It sounded muffled, but his brain quickly supplied a thought. Medbay. I am in the medbay. Someone is calling for me. It certainly explained the strange fuzziness of his senses and the sterile taste and smell that came from the presumed oxygen mask that covered his face.

His first attempt to open his eyes was useless, his eyelids wanting to fight against the commands of his brain, but he managed to wrench them open on the second try. Before him, someone loomed out of focus, but they felt inches away from him. Obi-Wan took in another harsh breath feeling the restraint of the bulky oxygen mask.

Each breath felt like a task of its own.

“Obi-Wan?” He heard his full name from above and tried to blink a few times to bring the person’s image into focus. Is it Cody?

Obi-Wan wanted it to be Cody. Somewhere deep inside of him, he only really wanted Cody to be there watching over him as he slept. However, as his eyesight became more clear, he could just begin to make out the longer hair and worried eyes of his former Padawan, Anakin.

“An’kin–?” He managed to slur out. “Where… mmm… Cody?” He was disoriented, and he had not meant to sound so… demanding, but his tongue was not cooperating with his mind. What, am I? Sedated? I don’t feel right.

His vision swam and he could feel the dryness of his mouth against his tongue. He was thirsty. He wished he could try and explain it to Anakin, but when he went to open his mouth, his tongue was heavy and immovable.

Instead, he sighed.

“He’s– still tend— I will–” The words were broken to Obi-Wan’s ears, barely meaning anything to him as they cut in and out. Obi-Wan saw the confusion cross Anakin’s face as he attempted to say something back, so Obi-Wan shut his mouth and attempted to blink the blurriness out of his eyes.

He looked down once his vision had somewhat cleared and observed the harsh white bandaging that encased his arms and torso. For a moment, he could not remember what had happened, but Anakin’s garbled words flooded his senses. Obi-Wan had just managed to make out the word fire when he remembered, the images of the oncoming flames abruptly flashing through his mind.

Cody! Did I make it in time?

While he was unable to feel the pain, the memory of the fire licking at him once it had burned through his tunics remained. Obi-Wan took a deep breath.

Not good.

That was his final thought before the blackness stole him away once again.

The next time Obi-Wan woke up, his awareness was not much farther behind him. He immediately recognized Anakin’s concerned eyebrows and rumpled clothes and his vision no longer seemed to swim with the after effects of a significant dosage of sedatives.

Before, the pain had been entirely muted, but now Obi-Wan could feel it crawling up his arms and around his torso. While it was not the harsh, sharp pain he knew burns to often have, he knew that his pain medication had been reduced to its minimum.

“Anakin?” He asked through the oxygen mask, which appeared to now be a permanent fixture on his face.

“Hey there Master. A little more awake this time?” Anakin asked with an unconvincing smile matched with weary eyes. His robes looked dirty, covered in what looked like the remnants of dark soot and dirt.

“Slightly… you should change.” He started slowly, nodding at the filthy tunic. His voice sounded gruff, almost like he was years older than he was.

“I haven’t had much time for that, I’ve been too busy babysitting you.” Obi-Wan scoffed at the notion as Anakin chuckled softly. “How is the pain?”

“It could be worse.” Obi-Wan answered and looked down at the bandaging that was strapped across his torso and wrapped around his arms. He couldn’t help but imagine what the scarring would look like once the burns had healed. Obi-Wan could see other little scars littering his chest and down across his waistline; none of them had been there before the war, but now they were a constant reminder.

“Would you like more meds Obi-Wan? I can call Skull–”

“No, Anakin. I can manage.” He meant the words to sound less bitter, but thankfully Anakin did not seem to care.

Obi-Wan attempted to move his arm upward toward his face, wanting to at least take the oxygen mask off for a second. It dug into the skin of his face which was irritating, but he mostly wanted to test his lungs. Before he could even let his arm move from the bed, Anakin had grabbed his fingers and pinned them down.

“Woah there, Master. I think it’s a little too early to be moving around with those on. You only burned yourself a couple of hours ago.”

Hours ago?

Obi-Wan swallowed. There was no way he would be taking off the oxygen mask any time soon if he had gotten the burns just hours earlier. Kriff.

“H-how bad?” He managed to stutter out. He had been attempting to sound slightly sarcastic, but the tone of his voice caused that attempt to fall flat. Anakin’s grimace said everything Obi-Wan needed to know.

“Bad enough you can’t have bacta.” Anakin sighed. The words rang in Obi-Wan’s ears for just a moment before they suddenly made sense. There were very few situations where bacta was left unused. Typically, Obi-Wan did his best to avoid bacta immersion, but he knew how burns felt during their lengthy recovery. It was something he had experienced as a young child, and it was no experience he cared to relive.

“What?” He asked abruptly.

“Your burns are bad– and there is shrapnel severe enough that your skin won’t be able to stitch itself back together in a bacta tank until it can all be removed. Skull says they need time to get all of the pieces of shrapnel out before bacta can even be a thought. Not to mention, most of the bacta is gone; another shipment won’t be in for weeks.”

The words stung.

Obi-Wan felt light-headed; he wasn’t sure if it was the result of the meds wearing off or the shocking words that had just come out of Anakin’s mouth.

Not only would he be separated from his duties for days, possibly weeks , but each and every moment would be painful. Obi-Wan was no stranger to pain, but the news of having to bear through it for more than a fews days sat heavily in his chest.

“Well, at least I’m not dead.” He said dryly, his response bearing none of his usual sarcastic tone; this time, he was genuinely bitter.

“That’s a good thing, Cody would not have been happy. He nearly clocked me with his blaster when I told him he needed to stay out in the field.”

Cody…

Obi-Wan blinked at Anakin. “Is he– did he make it back?”

Anakin responded with a raised eyebrow. “You’re back to caring?” He asked.

“I- I never stopped caring… is he alright?” Obi-Wan asked again as the flesh of his arms began to throb.

The painkillers are wearing off.

“Rex said the 212th is back here on the Negotiator– Cody included. Don’t ask me how I know that.” Anakin snorted before his face turned into something more serious. “I’m glad… don’t do anything like that again. If not for me, do it for Cody.”

Obi-Wan ducked his head and nodded once, “I don’t put myself in danger for no reason, Anakin.”

“I know, Master.” Anakin crouched and looked him in the eye with a soft smile on his lips, “Now, get some rest. Skull spoke with Vokara Che, and that’s it for the strong painkillers; supplies are running short.”

“I will.” Obi-Wan said through his teeth and tried to settle into the sheets despite the deep ache that settled into his bruised and burnt form.

Self-pity set aside, if only for a brief moment as he let himself take a few shuddering breaths to stop the water that pooled in his eyes, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and tried to rest.

Obi-Wan woke to Anakin’s chair left vacant; only a half-filled glass of water and a small book with curled edges left by the bedside indicating the younger Jedi had ever been there. It was a good thing, Obi-Wan thought; Anakin was no longer his Padawan and had no obligation to babysit him, especially when there were other duties that were far more important than a few burns.

For a moment, Obi-Wan considered comming Anakin, maybe even attempting to ask about the state of the situation on Felucia again, but a wave of feverish heat overcame him and swirled his thoughts around in his mind; he could barely imagine attempting to reach out a grab the commlink that sat blinking next to the book Anakin had left behind.

For a moment he sat, unmoving. He could feel the ripples of pain run across his arms and around his torso. It made his head pound and his eyes go blurry, even with just the slightest movement of his fingertips against the sheets.

Obi-Wan blinked a few times and let his unburned hand press over his forehead. Sweat immediately came off of his skin in large drops and he could feel the intense burn of his skin under his touch. Fever, he thought blandly.

Why was he not surprised?

He could feel the fever as it coursed through his veins and caused his body to shiver slightly under the thick bandages that still pressed over his chest and arms. Each wrack of shivers irritated the lightly-medicated wounds, and he gritted his teeth as he attempted to keep them at bay.

Obi-Wan allowed himself to curl into a tight ball under his linens, eyes shutting in some effort to block out the blinking light of his commlink on the bedside table and focused on taking deep breaths as his burns throbbed with pain

Come on Kenobi… in– one, two… out– one, two…

It barely helped, but the shivers eventually quelled to a mild tremble that was far more bearable. Regardless, he laid stock still on his back, attempting to keep the pain from coming back before he had another dose of the strong meds.

Like Skull had explained, bacta running low, and the bits of remaining shrapnel in his raw skin would prevent them from using it to begin with. The wounds were raw, and if new skin grew once bacta was introduced in an attempt to speed up the healing process, it would leave the little pieces of metal buried inside of him. Bacta would have to wait. Obi-Wan silently wished it were not the case; it had been too long since he had to endure the after effects of severe injury for more than a couple of hours and he had forgotten how unbearably brutal the hours of the day became when one was waiting to heal.

There was nothing he could do but wait for things to get better.

His mildly foggy, unrestrained mind began to wander through thoughts of Cody as he laid flat and motionless.

Obi-Wan’s brain conjured up some image of Cody smiling at him from across the mess hall, eyes half-lidded in exhaustion after their most recent battle.

He had looked so beautiful, even with a stripe of dirt staining his cheek and a crooked frown plastered on his lips. He had smiled and came to Obi-Wan’s side with a small box of biscuits he had snagged from the kitchen from one of his batchmates. Obi-Wan had not, absolutely had not, blinked slowly at him as his cheeks filled with a defined red warmth; Cody had brought him a gift, and it had been a thoughtful one. The biscuits were the ones Obi-Wan occasionally had with a cup of black caf or strong tea.

Obi-Wan longed for the Commander like he had once longed for Satine many years before; he was willing to admit that now, at least to himself.

Now that I’ve seen his vulnerable life flash before my eyes.

He wanted Cody to come and knock on his door, to come inside and pull him out from under the covers. He wanted Cody to wrap his strong, muscled arms around his shaking form and spread his warmth over the length of his body. He wanted Cody to brush his hair back from his forehead and place a cool towel over his eyes.

Frankly, it was Obi-Wan’s own fault he longed for such a thing, such an attachment-rife dream that he could never truly experience without some weight of guilt pouring over his shoulders. He watched Anakin silently as he crossed every one of the Jedi boundaries with Padme. He watched with a grimace as they scuttled around secretly and whispered odes of commitment into each others’ ears. Obi-Wan could not admonish himself for his jealousy. Somewhere behind his exterior he held his own longing that was yet to be acted upon, and it was worse. The Jedi would not so easily forgive him for forming an attachment with a clone .

He was slowly beginning to think maybe it was justified to put aside the ideals of the Jedi for just one person. In his feverish haze, he entertained the idea for longer than his healthy self would have ever allowed.

Time passed slowly as he shivered endlessly in his bunk, his limbs shaking where he cradled them against himself. He considered removing himself from his bed, trying to walk off the residual pain and remnants of a feverish headache that pounded behind his eyes, maybe trying to make a cup of scalding tea and put on a fresh set of thick pajama pants. He reconsidered the notion when he attempted to push himself up from where he laid and his arms nearly gave out as he let out a soft whimper.

He bit his lips as he dropped back down onto the bunk. It stretched the unhealed skin of the tender burns.

Fucking kriff it hurt.

Leaving his bed would not quite be justified by a simple cup of tea or even an attempt to walk through the waves of relentless agony.

He took a moment to think, through a cloudy haze of bleary thoughts, and wracked his brain for a more long-term solution. A shower. It came to him suddenly. A cold shower. It was ingenious, he assured himself, though somewhere deep inside his brain reminded him that burns were not so easily resolved by cold water. In his feverish state, somehow, cold water seemed justifiable as a proper antidote to the fire that seemed to have overtaken his form.

He pushed his fatigued legs over the edge of the bed and readied himself for a clumsy move to the refresher. It would be a few, short, agonizing steps.

Clumsy, he was, in the short few steps that lead him to the open refresher door. His legs nearly collapsed underneath his weight as his head produced a particularly angry stab of pain, he gripped at the doorframe and steered himself toward the edge of the shower. Come on Kenobi, just another few steps .

In nearly one smooth motion he managed to turn the shower onto its coldest setting and slip his loose sleep tunic over his head to reveal the crisp, white medbay bandages that set beneath.

He stood with his head leaning against the marble wall of the small medbay fresher, his hands pressed against the wall as he heard the cold water slide down the walls of the shower. Goosebumps that lined his spine and exhaled a small prayer to the Force that he might begin to feel painlessness again.

For one split second, Obi-Wan wished Cody were there with him, to talk some sense into the feverish void, but it seemed the Commander was busy, probably picking up whatever mess had been left on Felucia. Not that I care, he lied to himself. Regardless, he was thankful that he had been left alone to his own pitiful existence.

His sore legs slowly began to shake underneath himself and he slowly sank to the floor of the fresher in some silent act of defeat. He could not hold himself up long enough to consider attempting to make a move toward the running shower.

“Obi-Wan?” Obi-Wan heard a panicked voice yell through the thin metal door and over the pounding of the water against the walls of the shower and his own skin. His stomach rolled first at the mere volume of the voice as it rang through the metal door, and second upon the realization that the voice belonged to Cody , of all people. Cody was going to see him in such a… state .

He let out a breath and shivered again.

He glanced down at himself, noticing for the first time that he was completely and utterly nude. Somewhere in his haze, he had stripped the loose hospital pants from his legs revealing the bandages that crawled around his left thigh and right calf. Now, he was left sitting against the wall of the fresher, bandages the only barrier between his skin and Cody’s eyes.

“Obi-Wan?” Cody’s voice sounded panicked on the other side of the closed fresher door, and Obi-Wan swallowed.

Not good, not good…

He could hear the door open, there was no stopping the inevitable. “Obi-Wan!” Cody gasped and Obi-Wan could not bear to open his eyes, not even a crack, to see the look that would have overtaken the Commander’s features. “Oh for Forcesake! Skull, get in here!” Obi-Wan cringed at how loud Cody’s voice sounded in his ears.

Against his own will, he let out some sort of whimper, and suddenly there was a hand pressing at his forehead and cheeks.

“Hey, hey… Obi-Wan, are you alright? What are you doing in here? Please tell me you did not get in that shower.” Obi-Wan risked blinking open an eye and was met with the blurry image of Cody’s face hovering above his own.

“Was hot…” He mumbled in a weak attempt to explain the initial reason he had entered the fresher to begin with. “I don’t feel good.” He tried to elaborate, his awareness getting slightly stronger as he looked down at the state of his exposed form. In some last ditch attempt to protect his modesty and honor, he pressed his hands over his groin and averted his gaze from Cody.

Before he knew it, Cody had pressed a towel across his lap and had gently rearranged his arms so they were not limply pressed against the tiled floor. “I think you have a fever, General. I bet those burns hurt as well.” Obi-Wan tried to ignore the formality of the word General, and he only nodded and exhaled as another figure came into view: Skull.

Obi-Wan could feel his frustration radiating through the Force before he had even stepped into the tiny room.

“C’mon General, let’s get you back in bed.” One of them said, Obi-Wan was too exhausted to attempt to figure out who.

Perhaps he limped, or maybe he was carried, but somehow he ended up back on the thin medbay bed where he had been before. Nothing had changed, except for the acute sense of embarrassment he felt as the thin medical pants were dragged up his legs by Skull and Cody. Instead of an oxygen mask, Skull secured a nasal cannula and peeled back the bandages back to check over the burns. Obi-Wan attempted to stifle the small whimpers that resulted from the tugs at his sensitive flesh, but Skull seemed to notice.

“In pain, Sir?” He asked.

“Mmmm…” Was the only thing Obi-Wan could manage and he nodded his head down once.

“You’re running a nasty fever as well. I will increase the anti-inflammatory meds and the sedatives for now, alright General?” Skull asked like Obi-Wan was in any state to try and make a decision about it himself. Obi-Wan just nodded, perhaps a little too quickly, and turned his eyes toward the concerned face of his Commander who hovered nervously on the other side of the bunk.

“M’ sorry.” Obi-Wan said, already attempting to forget that Cody had found him naked on the floor of the refresher.

“Obi-Wan… no need to worry… just– just sleep for now. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

I’ll be here when you wake up.

Obi-Wan hoped that would actually ring true. Obi-Wan offered up a half-smile and pressed his unburned hand toward Cody. He twitched his fingers and watched as Cody tentatively brought a hand from his side to rest on top of Obi-Wan’s trembling fingers.

Obi-Wan felt sparks in his stomach as their fingers brushed together, a new warmth pooling in his chest as he watched Cody’s eyes soften.

Before he could clasp his hand over Cody’s, the warmth of the Commander’s fingers slipped away from his. There was a look in Cody’s eyes, something like longing that quickly turned to disappointment.

Obi-Wan wanted to ask about it, but something stopped him. Instead, he intertwined his own fingers and tried to shake away the lingering feel of warmth against his skin.

Cody had brought Obi-Wan a basket of teas that had been imported from Naboo; it was always his favorite type. Though Cody was not much of a tea drinker himself, he always seemed to be intuitive enough to bring Obi-Wan new teas he had never tried; they were always good.

Cody had done what he always did and stripped off his outer layer of armor down to his blacks before washing his face in Obi-Wan’s sink and sounding off about what another Shiny had done earlier that day. Obi-wan loved to hear him talk about anything, the drawl of his voice was a soothing sound in the midst of constant talk about battle and war and ravaged towns. Sometimes, Cody did not want to talk about anything at all.

In his blacks, Cody had pressed himself into the sofa where Obi-Wan sat reclined against the shoulder of it. Cody lifted up Obi-Wan’s legs and slid himself underneath them so they rested in his lap.

Obi-Wan tried to smile at him, but the smile fell flat, and he knew that Cody could see it.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Cody cupped Obi-Wan’s knee, eyes piercing with concern.

Obi-Wan had swallowed and braced himself for his own words.

“Cody… we can’t– I can’t do this…”

“Do what? The war?” Obi-Wan wished he could say yes, but it was not the truth.

“No, not the war. I can’t– I cannot be with you, not yet.” It hurt to let his imprisoned thought run free for the first time in weeks.

At a Council meeting, weeks before, he had been called a great Jedi, a leader by example to the Jedi Knights like Anakin. Before, he had once considered it his duty to be the perfect rendition of what a Jedi was supposed to be. He had always worn the right color tunics and practiced his katas until he had maintained perfect form, no matter how long it took.

Obi-Wan supposed his deep desire to strive for mastery and perfection was a result of… well Qui-Gon. His Master had been so frivolous with Force on some occasions and he often not only violated the Jedi code, but essentially tore the sacred documents to shreds with the words that spewed from his mouth.

Obi-Wan had worked so hard, and he loved Qui-Gon, but he wanted to be a different Jedi than his Master had been, a more disciplined one.

Now, that ever-practiced discipline was only a facade; Obi-Wan had violated one of those few golden standards for the Jedi. What kind of example was he setting for his impulsive former Padawan who seemed to sneak away at all hours of the night to meet with Padmé?

Even if somewhere inside of him, the ache to fulfill his duties to the Order were strong, it was not the only reason he couldn’t be with Cody.

Love was pain, and war would only increase the cost if it was entangled with it. Obi-Wan knew that now.

So, he had to postpone the one thing that set all the nerves in his body on fire and made his heart ache so heavily; he could not be with Cody, not until the War was over and his duties to the Jedi had been diminished.

“Obi-Wan we’ve— have we not discussed this? I thought–” Cody’s mildly desperate, yet sharp voice cut through his thoughts.

“I know what we discussed before, but I have had more time to think about it now.”

“And now? This is what you think? We should just– how can–” Cody shut his mouth, not finishing his sentence. Obi-Wan placed his trembling hand on Cody’s shoulder where he could feel it shake under his touch.

“Cody… I said we couldn’t be together yet… This separation is not permanent, but it’s for the best. I have committed myself to the Jedi, and I cannot let it affect how I respond to this War for that reason.”

There was a drawn pause lasting a minute before Cody looked up, eyes solemn and his face twisted into an unsettling frown.

“We have no idea when the War will be over Obi-Wan.”

“I know… will you wait for me regardless?”

“I don’t know, Obi-Wan… I don’t want to wait.”

“Wait for me. Until after the war, until the dust settles. Then– we can have everything we want Cody…anything. ”

The words hung in the air like a cloud of lingering smoke.

Days later, Obi-Wan was to be allowed to leave the medbay, that was, under the close supervision of his Commander. Skull had been reluctant at first, but Cody had come to Obi-Wan’s rescue, which in the General’s view, was unusual.

Not even days before, they had not been speaking at all.

But like Anakin had insisted, it was clear that Cody still cared; at least, he cared enough to bring Obi-Wan back to his quarters and let him have a moment of peace.

Obi-Wan did his best not to read into it; Cody was being kind, as he always was.

Obi-Wan’s limbs were heavy and his head felt the same; perhaps like it was full of cotton.

Cody had busied himself with collecting medication from the healers and wrapping up the singed remains of Obi-Wan’s tattered robe. Obi-Wan did not want to admit it to himself, but he was exhausted, completely drained of the energy he had felt the day before when the last of the painkillers had still been working full-force.

Now– now he was left with drooping eyelids and a low burn that constantly, brutally, crawled up his arms and across his stomach. It was bearable, but just barely; if it kept going for weeks, he figured it was just bad enough to drive him mad.

“Ready?” Cody asked gently as he shoved Obi-Wan’s dirty boots into his pack. He offered Obi-Wan a smile, one that Obi-Wan could not return even if he tried. Obi-Wan ignored the low ache in every bone of his body and nodded. While the burns were sharp, the bruises that lined his back and legs added another layer of dull throbbing. Nothing to be done about that, he thought bitterly.

“Shall we?” He said, sitting up and letting the white medbay sheets pool at his waist. Cody pulled the covers off of Obi-Wan, and the Jedi did not miss the lingering gaze on the fresh bandages that lined his chest and stomach. Obi-Wan shivered as Cody offered him a shirt and helped him maneuver his arms into the holes of the brown long sleeves.

Obi-Wan gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles white and slid the side. Cody waited with pursed lips and a pair of loose tan pants in hand. Obi-Wan let him help– again , and balanced himself against Cody’s shoulder as his Commander rucked the pants up his leg.

“On we go.” Obi-Wan murmured as he motioned toward the door.

With his first few steps, Obi-Wan stumbled, the wounds on his chest protesting as he bent at the waist to catch himself. Before Obi-Wan knew it was happening, Cody had steadied him, strong hand wrapping around the unburnt portion of his bicep.

Obi-Wan commanded himself to breathe. In– out. In– out.

“Are you sure you can walk? I can get a powerchair if you–”

“I’m fine– let’s just… keep going.” Obi-Wan hadn’t meant to cut him off, and hadn’t meant his words to sound so sharp, but an eruption of red-hot pain had only just worn off and muted into a relentless radiating pulse.

“At least lean on me.” Cody offered, eyes soft and empathetic.

Obi-Wan only nodded, and swallowed once as he let Cody’s arm curl around his side.

The walk felt long, longer than it normally felt when he wasn’t so tired and drained.

Neither of them spoke often, unless it was Cody asking if Obi-Wan needed a break. The truth was, Obi-Wan had needed a break on several occasions, but he preferred not to prolong the walk if he did not have to. Something inside of him longed for his own space, his own food, and a hot cup of black caf or tea to keep the exhaustion at bay.

His craving for his own space was only part of the problem, however. There were too many things he wanted to say, so many words he wanted to take back , but every time he worked up the courage to say them, his mouth clamped shut and he just, well, couldn’t .

He could barely even bring himself to meet Cody’s eyes, so instead, he kept his mouth shut and eyes trained on the scuffs that littered the hallway’s floor.

As they arrived at Obi-Wan’s quarters, Cody punched in the code of the door without hesitation and the door slid open.

Obi-Wan looked up from where his head hung slightly and took in the small apartment before him. While normally Obi-Wan kept his quarters fairly neat, he was not there enough to make a habit of it and he knew he had left it in a rather disorderly manner before he had left for Felucia. Now, it looked immaculate and tidied to the degree only a soldier could achieve.

Beyond tidy, it was cozy.

His normally bare sofa had suddenly acquired two gray pillows and a couple of soft, fuzzy throws he had never seen before. His plants looked watered and healthier than he knew he had left them, and his eyes were drawn to the pile of fresh tea that was sorted into little containers on the table. It warmed his heart and made his cheeks flush as he felt a gentle smile directed his way from Cody.

All of this for the man who asked you to wait?

“I’m assuming this was you, Cody?” He asked, attempting to sound less guilty than he felt. Obi-Wan turned his head to see Cody's cheeks were flushed as well.

“Just doing my duty, Sir.” Obi-Wan tried not to flinch at the formality, and shook off Cody’s arm as he muttered his thanks and headed toward the kitchen. Cody had done enough, and Obi-Wan was hungry for the first time in days, especially since the fever had broken. Despite the dull ache that had yet to be affected by the dose of low-level painkillers, Obi-Wan figured a bit of hot food would keep him in check as he started on the paperwork that he knew had probably been starting to stack up.

Fingers dragging across the spines of the cookbooks on the shelf, Obi-Wan heard a sigh come from behind him, certainly one he was not supposed to hear. Obi-Wan tilted his head just enough to see Cody finish shaking his head.

“Problem?” He asked as he plucked the old, worn cookbook he had stolen from Qui-Gon’s quarters in the temple after his passing.

“You’re just– you are not healed Obi-Wan. Blast– you had a fever not even a day ago!” Cody looked possibly more stressed out than Obi-Wan thought he should be, the lines of his forehead creased and his arms crossed tightly across his chest. “Plus,” Cody continued, voice gruff and eyes slanted, “You are lucky you were even discharged– I promised Skull I would keep you off your feet.”

Obi-Wan dropped the cookbook onto the counter and traced his fingers over the edges of the faded cover. “I’m– I just wanted a hot meal… and you look like you could use one too– as a thank you, that is.” The Commander had done enough, pulling from the fresher floor in his feverish haze and cleaning up his quarters and being ever so–

“ Please. Just sit down, I can do that.”

Obi-Wan could see it written on Cody’s face– that look of frustration, like he wanted to say something more than he already had. Obi-Wan knew from past experience what Cody was thinking; he was wishing that Obi-Wan would slow down and rest, but rest would never keep Obi-Wan’s mind from stirring over everything that he had put Cody through, and all the things he still wanted to stay.

The thing was, it felt wrong that Cody was there, watching him with soft eyes and sitting by his side for days. Hells, Cody had even kept his quarters clean and organized for him. It pulled at Obi-Wan’s conscience.

“Cody, I’m perfectly capable of making us something light to eat; you have already done more than enough.”

“It was nothing more than you already did for me, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan hated that at that exact moment his legs started to give out. He gripped the counter, attempting to balance himself without Cody noticing him falter, but the Commander was too intuitive and had already rushed to Obi-Wan’s side before he had a chance to protest.

“I’ll sit. Just for a few minutes.” Obi-Wan murmured, seeing no other way to respond, while Cody threw him a very pointed look and led him to the sofa. Obi-Wan sat gingerly, the burns around his stomach stinging as he bent at the waist.

Guilt crept into the pit of his chest and he watched Cody’s worried face as he pressed a pillow behind Obi-Wan’s head and gently laid the throw over his thighs. He wanted to protest, wanted to tell Cody how unnecessary it was to dote on him and cover him in a kriffing blanket . Yet, Obi-Wan knew he would do the same for Cody, he had in the past.

How many times had Cody come to him with scrapes on his back that he could not reach, or a headache that pulsated behind his eyes? Would Obi-Wan ever turn him away? The answer would always be no; it was no then, and it was no now, even if everything had changed.

“I’ll get you some water– and tea. Don’t fucking move. ” Obi-Wan could not help but listen. Cody didn’t swear as often as some of the other men, but when he did, Obi-Wan knew it usually meant he was serious.

Listening to the order, whether intentionally or not, Obi-Wan let himself sink into the back of the sofa, his full body-weight relaxed into the cushions. The truth was– he was exhausted. Whatever energy he had been discreetly pulling from the Force minutes earlier had vanished entirely and he was left with a bone-deep need to just sit .

Obi-Wan stared forward at the wall on the opposite side of the room, mind spinning as his eyes bore into the blank canvas in front of him. In that moment, thoughts of Satine came flooding back. The way she used to take care of him– just the way Cody did now. On many occasions, she had brought him hot tea and carded her slim fingers through his hair when he felt ill. The thought made him feel another pang of sadness burn deep in his chest.

Watching Cody get so close, within inches of meeting the same fate, had rattled Obi-Wan to his core. How many more people he loved would have to die before he had no one left to go to, nothing left to live for? The thought, much to his displeasure, scared him as it crossed his mind.

“Still two sugars?” Cody asked from behind and Obi-Wan could feel him hovering just to the side of the sofa.

“Still two.” Cody made a noise of approval and shuffled back to the kitchen. Obi-Wan heard pots rattling and drawers opening and closing. He realized, too late probably, that Cody had taken to cooking dinner, regardless of Obi-Wan’s intentions. Much to his own annoyance, Obi-Wan felt too tired to even attempt a word of protest.

“You know– I don’t think I have ever seen the 212th so worried.” Cody said, “You didn’t look good.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Obi-Wan threw back, hoping he would at least bring a smile to Cody’s face with the joke.

“Too soon, Obi-Wan.” It sounded like banter, but Cody’s words held some sort of weight behind them. Cody’s voice moved closer to the sofa as he spoke. Obi-Wan had just nearly blinked and there, in front of him with a tray of tea and soup, Cody stood.

He set the tray on the coffee table before picking up the cup of tea and sitting next to Obi-Wan with it in hand.

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan murmured as Cody placed the tea into the Jedi’s awaiting hands. Though Obi-Wan held onto it with both hands, they were shaky with the after-effects of fever and pain medication.

They sat in comfortable silence as Obi-Wan sipped gingerly at the tea and even ate a few spoonfuls of the hastily made soup.

It reminded Obi-Wan of a time, not so long before everything had fallen apart, that he had made Cody a lousy bowl soup and a watery cup of caf as the Commander had nearly shivered to death in his makeshift bunk by the fire.

There had only been three small tents available in the emergency pack, and Cody and Obi-Wan had sent each other meaningful looks as soon as some of the shinys attempted to volunteer themselves to sleep outside.

Cody, the Commander he was, sure as hell wasn’t about to let his most vulnerable men shiver in the cold while he was shielded from the wind in the comfort of a tent. Obi-Wan and Cody had, for that reason, ended up alone by the fire with one foam pad to share and a couple of thin linen blankets.

While the Force was usually enough for Obi-Wan to his temperature regulated, Cody had begun to shiver after just a few minutes of sitting idly by the smoking coals of the windblown fire.

They had shared a moment of silence, just the same as they did now, as Obi-Wan held out a bowl of soup to Cody and watched as his hand shook as the breeze blew against the exposed skin of his neck.

Back when things had been… easier; more clearly defined.

Obi-Wan drained his tea and had managed to eat half the bowl of soup before he sunk back into the cushions, eyes watering as the unhealed skin pulled. He resisted the urge to complain or let out an exasperated moan; it would only make Cody worry more than he already was.

Cody’s eyes were on him constantly from where he sat to the left of Obi-Wan. His gaze was unending, always present; Obi-Wan felt small under it. It felt like Cody was expecting him to say something, so Obi-Wan did.

“I’m sorry, Cody.” He murmured. Cody raised an eyebrow.

“I never asked for an apology.” Cody responded evenly.

“You deserve one regardless.” Obi-Wan said, voice breathy as a stab of pain coursed through his side. He winced and Cody noticed. His eyes became soft and he opened his mouth to say something, but Obi-Wan cut him off, “I’m fine… just a twinge.”

Cody shook his head and sighed.

They were caught in an unsustainable silence, one that would have to be broken one way or another, and Obi-Wan knew that he was the one who would have to do it. Obi-Wan swallowed down the lingering feeling of emotional strain and pursed his lips.

“I had to do it, you know.” He said quietly, hoping Cody’s response would mirror the forced calmness Obi-Wan had taken to wearing as a mask. Cody let out one metered breath, eyes dragging over the floor of the apartment and lips curling into a frown.

“Did you?” He asked, voice strained.

“I did what needed to be done– it is my duty. ”

That’s all you care about Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan could already hear the words emerging from Cody’s lips. He was too tired for that old accusation.

Instead–

“You shouldn’t have done that .” Cody said eventually, his voice cracking unnaturally under the weight of the words, “There was no reason to do that , Obi-Wan.” Cody’s words were sharp, and pointed, and just enough to make Obi-Wan’s pulse rise.

What had Cody expected? Had he wanted to be left to die. Obi-Wan had never taken his Jedi training and access to the Force for granted; what was the use of it if he never had to be exposed to danger?

“Am I missing something? Was there another choice, Cody? You were about to die .” Obi-Wan swallowed back tears as the prospect of Cody dying crossed his mind once more. Emotions were running high, he hadn’t felt relaxed in days and more turmoil was not helping things in the slightest.

The pot of water was boiling over, and there was so very little he could do to stop it.

“That’s my job.” Cody but back under his breath, “ I’m not– we’re not– It doesn’t matter… you’re a High General, and I am a clone. You had a choice, and you made the wrong one. ”

That made Obi-Wan’s blood boil and also forced his heart to sink even lower into his stomach. He felt sick. He tried to blink back the tears that he had somehow allowed to pool in his eyes.

I must be really exhausted, he thought as he pressed shaking fingers against the corner of his eyes to get rid of the tears before they threatened to leak down his cheeks. It was one thing to cry in a feverish haze, and another to cry when he was self-aware. He turned his face in an attempt to keep Cody’s gaze away from his face.

“I’m–” Cody pressed a gentle hand against Obi-Wan’s back, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

He noticed, kriff.

“It wasn’t that…” Obi-Wan murmured, because it was true, a raised voice was never the problem, it was Cody’s lack of self-worth that bothered him.

“Oh…” Cody sounded like he wasn’t sure what to say next, like the words were caught in his throat. He lifted his hand away from Obi-Wan’s back, probably thinking his touch had lingered too long.

Obi-Wan pressed away the last of the leaking tears with the back of his hand the best he could and turned back toward Cody hoping he would work up the courage to say what he needed to say.

He took a deep breath and shook his head.

Another tear leaked out of his eye, and before he could reach to wipe it away, Cody’s hand was already reaching toward his face, the pad of his thumb gently wiping away the tear that had leaked down the side of his cheek.

The look in Cody’s eye might have been desperation, or possibly longing, but Obi-Wan knew at the very least he was waiting for something, anything , to be said.

“Cody…” Obi-Wan started, his trembling voice trailing off as he attempted to collect the jumbled thoughts that precariously swam through his mind, “I–I lost Satine.” His voice cracked as he said her name and his heart shattered again, just the same as it had ever since that horrible day.

Cody’s widened eyes and ajar mouth said enough. “When– h-how?” He stuttered out, eyes suddenly becoming soft, “ I am so sorry , Obi-Wan.”

He meant the words, the empathy flowing through them naturally.

“I loved her when I was young.” Obi-Wan’s voice remained shaky, the tears again dripping from the corners of his eyes. “I loved her my whole life, in some capacity; and I couldn’t protect her. It was my fault. ” He had barely even allowed himself to think about those words. It had truly been him to cause her death. Perhaps it was his negligence, or maybe it was his failure to be as strong as he considered himself to be–

“No– no, Obi-Wan , it wasn’t your fault. What happened?” Cody hand pressed over Obi-Wan’s once more and his voice was shaky and small.

“It was Maul… but I should have seen it coming, I should have tried harder .”

“Obi-Wan…” Cody looked like he wanted to elaborate, but he shut his mouth and continued to trace the pad of his thumb over the palm of his hand.

“And then you came too close to the same fate.” Obi-Wan trained his eyes on a loose piece of stitching on the couch and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “I don’t want– I cannot bear to lose you like I lost her.”

Cody pressed a finger underneath his chin and forced his eyes upward. “You won’t lose me.” The words cut through the air with so much clarity that it made Obi-Wan’s heart beat loudly in his chest, “If I have anything to do with it, you won’t lose me. I will stick around, I will wait. ”

The words echoed thousands of times in Obi-Wan’s head, screaming at him to say something, anything , in response.

Instead, he pulled forward from where he was tucked into the sofa and pressed himself into Cody’s arms.

His burns hurt, but Obi-Wan didn’t care.

It hurt more not being in Cody’s embrace.

He wanted Cody in his arms, no matter what the cost was. It felt like home, his own chest pressed against Cody’s. Obi-Wan breathed into his neck, nose brushing against the warm skin and ticklish hair. Cody let out a shuddering breath as his hand pressed against the base of Obi-Wan’s neck.

No words were exchanged for several moments, but more needed to be said.

Obi-Wan’s heartbeat rattled in his chest and he sucked in a breath before he whispered the words he had been holding on to so tightly for days .

“ I don’t want to wait – not anymore. I can’t– I don’t want to lose you the way I lost her. Life is not permanent, and I want to spend whatever I have left with you .” Obi-Wan felt Cody stop breathing for a moment.

Cody pulled Obi-Wan away from his chest and looked Obi-Wan right in the eye.

“Obi-Wan…” Cody was teary now, his brown eyes wet and full of something intangible, unreadable. For a moment, Obi-Wan held his own breath. “Are you sure?” Cody’s voice was so quiet– more fragile than Obi-Wan had ever heard it before.

Obi-Wan nodded, almost violently, and pressed his shaking hand against Cody’s jaw. “Yes– I can’t wait. ”

Relief, from both of them combined, filled the space between them. They had orbited around each other for too long, their eyes had lingered too long, their parallel strides had become too comfortable of a rhythm– but now? Now, they were one .

They stayed that way until Obi-Wan’s burns began to throb and what little energy he had been running on suddenly began to slip away. Cody seemed to notice his sagging form and gently pulled him away.

“Hey, how about you lay down, you were supposed to rest.” Cody pressed Obi-Wan’s hair behind his ears and off of his forehead before pressing a soft kiss to his cheekbone and jawline.

Obi-Wan felt a warmth, one he had been trying to ignore for so long, as he let Cody’s lips trail over his skin. He felt his eyes closing and nodded softly. “I don’t want to get up.” He said, the thought of having to pull his aching body from its place on the sofa made him feel slightly nauseous.

“You don’t have to get up. Here–” He took the pillow from the side of the sofa and settled it into his lap while he patted the top of it, “Just lay down right here.”

Obi-Wan normally would have protested, maybe even insisted that he didn’t want to make Cody uncomfortable, but this time it felt right.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he curled onto his less burned side, face pressing into the pillow and eyes drifting closed as Cody pressed his fingertips into his untamed hair. It felt nice to lay down, without having any commitment to a time he needed to wake up.

It felt even nicer to be beside the man he loved, with no words left unsaid.

Obi-Wan allowed himself to drift, focusing solely on the feeling of Cody’s hand trailing through his hair. There was something so relentlessly soothing about surrendering everything and resting one's head in someone's lap.

Ripples of fondness flowed through Obi-Wan's chest as he heard Cody bid him good rest.

Weeks earlier, Cody imagined he would never feel Obi-Wan’s sandy, soft hair under the pads of his fingertips again.

Sure, the war could end, but the likelihood of him surviving its demise was very slim. For some reason, he could not shake the feeling that clones would not be met with warm embraces once their duties had been filled. Cody had swallowed the thoughts down in some attempt to keep himself sane and motivated.

Now, what had seemed impossible, had become his reality.

He carded his fingers through auburn locks under his fingertips before tracing his fingers across the gentle curve of Obi-Wan’s jaw. His beard was slightly longer than he usually kept it and his hair was in disarray compared to its usual organized look.

Mostly, he looked peaceful. His eyes were no longer clenched shut, but rather his eyelashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks. Obi-Wan’s lips were just parted enough that little breaths puffed out of his mouth.

Cody watched him, possibly for longer than he should have, but there were so few moments like this – calm and quiet – that he felt compelled to soak in what little time that had left to share before the demands of the war caught up to them.

The words Obi-Wan said earlier echoed back to him.

I don’t want to wait– not anymore.

Cody knew that Obi-Wan had never wanted to wait, but like with most things, he felt as though he owed somebody something. That was Obi-Wan– a self-sacrificing idiot at worst, and loyal war General at best.

With a smile, Cody watched Obi-Wan’s eyelashes flutter in his sleep and slowly untangled his hand from the General’s hair.

With everything on the table, nothing left to be talked about, and the tension all but dissolved, Cody could feel the waves of relief crashing over him like the waves of the ocean surrounding Kamino.

Sure, the worries of the war would never quite disappear, but he could not quite bring himself to care about battle tactics when the scruffy face of his General was nuzzled into a pillow on his lap.

So kriffing endearing.

Attempting to keep his torso as still as possible, Cody reached for his datapad on the side table and opened up a fresh tab meant for note-taking. He stared at the cursor on the screen for several moments, but inspiration came quickly.

With practiced fingers swiping over the screen, Cody wrote.

To Obi-Wan Kenobi…

Effortlessly, he wrote a letter to Obi-Wan, one for after the war had passed and their lives had been altered beyond belief. He wrote about what he imagined their life would be, and about the moments, good and bad , that they had shared.

Mostly, he wrote about Obi-Wan’s ocean eyes and auburn hair and the feel of his skin underneath the tips of his fingers.

With a smile on his face, Cody trailed one thumb across the coarse hair on Obi-Wan’s jawline as he read the words back to himself.

Love, Cody

Anakin had shown his face again in the Medbay only to find that Obi-Wan had been released to Cody’s care. It was expected, given that Obi-Wan had asked for him multiple times in a feverish haze, his unrestrained mind allowing him to voice the thoughts he never would have if he had been feeling himself.

Better Cody than me. Anakin snorted at the thought as he left the Medbay and began the journey to Obi-Wan’s quarters. Anakin figured if Obi-Wan had been released to his care, the two of them would have been fed up with each other before an hour had passed.

Of course, Anakin would have probably provoked him by insisting on feeding him little spoonfuls of soup and pretending the spoon was an X-wing.

Anakin turned the corner to Obi-Wan’s hall and decided against knocking, instead, punching in the nine-digit code to Obi-Wan’s door that he knew so well. The door slid open to reveal that Obi-Wan’s bed was neatly made and the lights were dim throughout the apartment. Everything looked organized and fresh and certainly more homey than Obi-Wan ever cared to keep his space. Usually, Obi-Wan’s dishes were mechanically stacked away in his cupboards and not a single stray magazine or mug could be seen. Instead, the table was set and there were little pieces of evidence that confirmed that someone did, in fact, live in the apartment.

Admittedly, Anakin was confused. He had expected to find Obi-Wan curled up in bed and Cody in the kitchen probably fiddling with Obi-Wan’s tea selection or arranging him his meals. Cody had always been the proactive type, prone to organization and order the same way Obi-Wan enjoyed to live.

Instead, the kitchen was empty. Curiosity brewing and the sensation of worry starting to creep into his mind, Anakin furrowed his brow and stepped further into the apartment, hand pressing over the handle of the door of the living area.

“Obi-Wan?” He called as he opened the door.

Anakin was not sure what exactly he had expected, but the image in front of him was certainly a surprise.

Before his eyes, Obi-Wan laid on the sofa, bandages wrapped tightly around the singed flesh of his chest and stomach peaking out from under his shirt. His arms, which Anakin had seen two days before, were more neatly bandaged and were splayed out in front of him. His head, mostly free of damage from the fire, was resting comfortably atop a pillow which was, much to Anakin’s shock, perched directly in none-other-than Commander Cody’s lap.

Cody looked up, clearly startled, from the glowing datapad that was balanced in his lap and before Anakin could even consider opening his mouth to say something, the Commander pressed a finger up against his lips to shush him. Obi-Wan’s eyes were closed, little puffs of air escaping through his lips.

It warmed his heart to see the man who raised him in the arms of someone he truly loved, finally. Obi-Wan had spent so long worrying about his honor, concerning himself with the intricacies of the Jedi code and the legality of his own natural feelings. But now? Now, he was just a man, asleep in the arms of the person he deserved to feel something for.

Anakin smiled softly at Cody as he dropped his hand into his lap and set the datapad down on the table beside the sofa.

Cody’s voice was barely a whisper, “What are you doing here?”

The words were not accusatory, rather, they were curious.

“I figured you had taken him back here; he mentioned you a few times when he was… delirious.” The statement brought the slightest pink to Cody’s cheeks. “I’m glad to see he’s resting, that’s a rare sight.” Anakin motioned to Obi-Wan who slept on. His face, much to Anakin’s relief, seemed to have a bit more color.

“It is.” Cody agreed, “Listen we’re not–”

“You don’t have to explain. I already know.” Cody blinked at him. “Obi-Wan had many secrets, but I confronted him months ago when I found both of you asleep in his bed… but that's a story for another time.” If Cody’s cheeks had been pink before, they were red now; even the tops of his ears had gained a bit of color.

“You’ve known for how long?” Cody whispered, hand finding its way into Obi-Wan’s untamed hair.

“Long enough to know that he loves you. He never did stop loving you.” Anakin did not care if Obi-Wan chastised him later for saying it, it needed to be said.

“I know he does…” Cody said with just a tinge of shakiness in his tone; his eyes looked glassy, “He doesn’t want to wait anymore.”

Anakin already knew that, and had already predicted it. “He never did want to.”

The gentlest of smiles crossed Cody’s face, this time making it all the way up to his eyes, something quite rare for the usually stoic Marshal Commander. Anakin wanted to say something more, to tell Cody all the things that he knew Obi-Wan felt for him, but he kept his words short.

“My Master was always one to hold his cards close; I hope that will change.” He smiled softly, watching as Cody did the same.

“I think it already has.” Cody responded just above a whisper.

Anakin could not have agreed more.

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