Okay, So My One-shot Might Not Be A One-shot Anymore

The Unknown

What if instead of Tiplee and Tiplar accompanying Anakin in "The Unknown" episode, Obi-Wan did? And what if instead of Fives and Tup, it's Cody and Rex?

Whumptober #28

Part 18 of Whumptober 2022

“ c'mere. let me give you a hug. “ with Kix and Rex maybe, please?

Thanks for asking, anon! The ending references my fic Golden Heart because I can’t resist an opportunity to reference it :)

——————

Kix stood outside Rex’s quarters, staring at the door as though it had done something to offend him. He was hesitant to knock on the door, and he’d never been hesitant before, but…

But, after Umbara, Kix was hesitant to approach anyone, especially Rex.

Umbara took a toll on everyone. Kix could see it in the way everyone held themselves. Their energies were slightly subdued. Tup seemed lost with Dogma gone, and Fives had taken to the young trooper pretty quickly. Fives liked to help people in order to distract himself from his own problems and, well, there were worse coping mechanisms out there. Kix would have to talk to him at some point to make sure he was actually addressing his own issues.

Jesse had taken things hard, too. Losing Hardcase was rough on both Jesse and Kix because he was their batchmate. They were working through their grief together, and it would be a long process, but at least they weren’t alone.

Shaking himself out of his musings, Kix thought back to the matter at hand. He was standing outside of Rex’s door, fist hovering just a few inches away from knocking. He knew that Rex was also struggling with his own guilt for everything that happened in Umbara. Kix thought he could help.

Kix remembered with great clarity the moment that he snapped at Rex and accused him of acting like General Krell when Rex ordered him to leave the injured behind.

The guilt of that interaction was hanging like an albatross around Kix’s neck. Looking back on it, he realized that Rex had been put in an impossible situation where he had to mediate between his men, his brothers, and a leader whose entire goal was to get them killed. Rex was right, too— Kix had to survive and carry on because if he wasn’t alright, then there would‘ve been no one else to take care of other injured brothers.

Kix knew he had to apologize for his outburst, both for his own ease of mind and for Rex’s. Still, he hesitated, and was about to turn on his heel and come back another time when the door to Rex’s quarters slid open, and the captain himself stood in the doorway. He jumped a bit upon seeing Kix there, obviously not having been aware of his presence just beyond his walls.

“Sir,” Kix said, slowly lowering his fist from where it was poised to knock on the door, “may I have a word with you?”

Rex furrowed his brows together but nodded and gestured to have Kix enter his quarters.

The room was in disarray. Rex’s armor was skewed about the room in a disorderly fashion, which was uncharacteristic for his usual organized room. There were datapads strewn about the floor as well, all incomplete paperwork that had to be filled out in the aftermath of a battle.

Kix didn’t comment on any of this, and instead stood in the corner of the room, looking at his feet and fiddling with the sleeve of his body glove.

There was silence between the pair for a few moments. Rex sat himself on his unmade bed and regarded Kix with a blank expression, not that Kix noticed his gaze, as focused on the ground as he was.

Finally, Kix took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry.” He was startled, then, upon realizing that Rex had said the same thing in sync with him.

“Sir? What do you have to apologize for?” Kix asked.

“The… the campaign as a whole. I let you all down, and you had to bear the brunt of so many unfair situations. I never should ordered you to leave those men behind. That’s not what we’re trained to do, and I asked you to do it anyway. So, I’m sorry.” Rex explained, now looking at the ground instead of at Kix.

Kix scoffed, “Sir, Rex, I don’t blame you for that. I’m sorry for comparing you to General Krell in that moment. You are nothing like him, and I just said that because I was tired and frustrated. I know you were put in a ridiculously tough scenario and… it’s been weighing on you as much as it’s been weighing on me, maybe even more.”

Rex just sniffed and nodded slowly. He glanced at Kix and let a slight smile grace his face, “C’mere. Let me give you a hug.” He said, holding out his arm as an invitation.

Kix sighed dramatically and sat down on the bed next to Rex, leaning into and returning his older brother’s embrace.

“You’re never going to let me forget that I gave you a hug when I was still in medic training, are you?” Kix said with a sigh.

Rex laughed, “Oh, definitely not. But, hey, I think this hug is helping, so maybe the research you did back then wasn’t all for nothing.”

“Damn straight.” Kix said with a huff. Rex let out a laugh at that, and Kix allowed himself a chuckle, too.

Umbara left wounds on them all, but… they would heal with time (and maybe a few hugs, too).

Fic Masterlist

This is so that they’re all in one place on tumblr! These aren’t in any particular order other than the one that I thought of them in as I was writing out the titles in this post. The links and summaries are below the cut! I hope this is helpful! As I write more, I’ll be sure to keep this updated.

Multi-Chapter Fics:

What Died Didn’t Stay Dead — The 501st suffered a devastating blow on Umbara with the loss of Captain Rex at the hands of Pong Krell.

Rex doesn’t understand why he’s still around after having died, but he realizes that he might be able to use this to the advantage of all of his brothers.

Or: Rex is a ghost, and he’s just as confused about it as everyone else is.

Mars AU — A role-reversal AU in which Rex gets caught in the explosion at the Citadel and is experimented on by the Techno Union, and Echo is promoted to Captain of the 501st. This series explores what would be different and what would stay the same.

Losing Track (of What We’re Fighting For) — the first installment, which spans from Rex’s rescue through Order 66

Cool Clone Commanders (+ a Slightly Less Cool Captain) — A series of missing scenes and brotherly shenanigans during Losing Track (of What We’re Fighting For)

Brand New War Begins — Order 66 has been executed and the galaxy is in shambles. In an attempt to pick up some of the pieces, Rex and Echo split into groups on missions to save those who may have survived. Meanwhile, two lost souls run into each other and the future of the galaxy is drastically changed as a result.

One Shots:

Golden Heart — Kix has always wanted to help his brothers; that’s why he’s always wanted to be a medic. One day, when he’s first starting his medical training, he helps a blond cadet with a concussion. Years later, after the war has begun, history repeats itself.

A Bit of Tin — Echo notices a familiar medal on display in the Bad Batch’s ship and asks them about it. It leads to a conversation about their old batchmates.

When You Let it Leave, it Can’t Hurt You — The Bad Batchers find a holopic in their barracks when they return to Kamino after a mission. It holds nothing but bittersweet and painful memories for Echo, but he eventually learns that just because it hurts doesn’t mean he should forget.

Promotion — When Anakin Skywalker is Knighted, Rex is given a promotion as well, much to his surprise.

Homecoming — After the Clone War ended with the reveal of Chancellor Palpatine as a Sith Lord, Fives and Echo get the reunion that they deserved all along. The rest of Domino Squad joins in on the fun.

Comfort — Kix has been awake for nearly 24 hours trying to save as many brothers as he could. A breakdown was inevitable. Luckily, Echo is really great at comforting brothers who are hurting.

Tackling Grievous — Cody tackles Grievous yet again, and Rex comms him to give him a piece of his mind. Obi-Wan’s enjoying this far too much for his own good.

Keep Your Eyes Open — Cody gets a concussion during a battle, but luckily Rex is there to make sure he stays awake.

I Know You — “This is not who you are. I know you better than that.”

Anakin says these words to Ahsoka on Mortis. Years later, Ahsoka says them to Anakin on Malachor.

What’s in a Name — Fives has been in ARC training for 2 weeks when he runs into Clone Force 99, who are preparing to ship out of Kamino for their first mission.

Or: Fives meets Clone Force 99 and accidentally gives them their other name.

Where I Confess My Doubt — A supply run takes Ghost Crew to Umbara. Everyone’s worried about Rex.

A Great Man — To Rex, Fives was a great man, and great men deserve to be remembered. *Ao3 link here*

The One Left Behind — In which Death watches a particular clone captain repeatedly lose, and still continue to fight.

Only Time Will Tell — The clones wake up with memories of their lives up to their deaths only a few weeks before Kenobi was due to arrive on Kamino in the original timeline. Rex stays strong for his brothers— he has to. But who will stay strong for him? *will likely end up being a series of oneshots*

"Cyar'ika"

Based on that post by @vclkyrxe

. . .

The pride Anakin constantly felt for his men was doubled with their latest victory and he swaggered down the hallways of the cruiser in an excellent mood.

The 501st had worked seamlessly alongside their brothers of the 212th, thriving under the joint leadership of Rex and Cody and making it out of their latest battle relatively unscathed, with minor injuries and zero fatalities. It was a tragically uncommon outcome.

Anakin congratulated the men he passed in the corridors, clasping shoulders and forearms, cherishing their smiles. Too often, they had so little to smile about. There were less and less troopers to greet as he neared the Jedi quarters; they had little need to venture down such hallways after all. Their absence saddened Anakin greatly, so used to their presence, wishing once again that he could be permitted to bunk with his men. The dog-piles of clones he often found himself in when resting mid-battle were surprisingly comfortable.

It wasn’t appropriate, however. Not for a Jedi.

Voices startled him, having expected that familiar, lonely silence, and curious at why it was broken.

“… more careful, general. Today could have gone much differently.”

It was Cody. Anakin knew the timbre of his voice. He must be debriefing with his general and, from what Anakin was overhearing, this particular debrief was more along the lines of a lecture. He smirked, leaned back against the wall outside his master’s room to listen to him get told off for once.

“You needn’t worry, Commander. I had it under control.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you know what that word means,” Cody huffed in reply to his general’s airy dismissal. “Fine. Don’t be careful. Just, keep in mind, someday I might not be there. I could get shot down mid battle and you may not notice for the duration—”

“Cody,” said Obi-Wan, quite firm, and Anakin recognised that tone: chiding, but ultimately so gentle. “I would feel your loss instantly.”

Anakin nodded, so enthused with agreement that he forgot briefly that he wasn’t a part of the conversation. The clones had a habit of downplaying their worth. They couldn’t be blamed, of course, having been created by those who believed they were expendable, but Anakin knew different. He knew that, if Rex should fall, he would feel it.

There was silence following Obi-Wan’s words but it broke now with Cody’s softened voice.

“It does not… invalidate my point, sir.”

“Cyar’ika,” Obi-Wan sighed and the word stuck in Anakin’s mind, knowing in his heart that it was important, feeling the weight and emotion behind it. “I hear you… and I will do my upmost to ease your anxiety.”

“That feels like a weak promise.”

“Well, I know if I tell you I’ll stop being reckless, you’ll just see right through me.”

Cody chuckled, completely genuine, untainted with bitterness or exasperation. It was such an unfamiliar sound. “I suppose it will do for now.”

There was a moment of silence. Anakin had to hold himself back from prying, from reaching out into the force to know what was happening in that room.

“I need to see to the men,” said Cody. “For some of them, a victory is just as hard as a defeat.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Of course, general.”

The door opened and Anakin almost tripped over himself, realising quickly that he would not get away in time and simply leaning back against the wall, resting his chin in his hand with as much feigned nonchalance as he could muster. His goal had been to not draw attention. When Cody exited the room, however, the commander looked right at him.

His helmet was tucked under one arm, his eyes widening a moment, just a fraction, in surprise, before he set himself a carefully neutral expression.

“General Skywalker,” he acknowledged, setting off down the corridor, and Anakin grimaced a smile through his fingers.

“Cody,” he said in reply, closing his eyes in self-frustration when the man was out of sight because he definitely knew Anakin had been eavesdropping.

He wasn’t the only one.

“Anakin.”

Slowly, he turned his head. His hand lowered from his mouth. “Hey…?”

“What are you doing out here?” Obi-Wan asked, looking slightly alarmed, though it may have been because his hair was slightly out of place.

“I was coming to change out of my armour,” said Anakin honestly, “and then, well, I wasn’t expecting Cody to be down here and it, y’know, caught me off guard for a minute.”

Obi-Wan had a thoroughly unconvinced expression on his face, but he said nothing to contradict his former apprentice. “Cody was debriefing me on the battle. The men did well; the Seventh Sky Corps were very effective… Although, he was unhappy with the way I handled myself towards the end.”

“You mean when you were free falling between gunships?”

Obi-Wan’s jaw shifted. “Yes, precisely.”

An uncertain silence stretched out and Anakin shifted his weight between his feet. “So,” said Anakin, hoping to ease his master’s obvious and uncharacteristic discomfort, “‘cyar’ika’…? Haven’t heard that one before.”

“Ah, yes,” replied Obi-Wan, aiming for nonchalant, but no less tense. “It’s a Mando’a word. A… term of endearment, I suppose, for someone I admire and respect very much. Cody—all the clones, in fact—they aren’t used to praise. It’s good for him to know that he is valued.”

Anakin nodded, eager to validate him. “Of course, Master. I agree.”

In Anakin’s mind at least, Obi-Wan wasn’t doing anything wrong. Anakin loved his men like brothers, valued each and every one of them and hoped he conveyed that as much as possible. He knew his master had qualms about attachment, but it was a difficult thing to avoid in war. Without their friends in the clones, they would be lost.

It seemed, however, that—despite his master’s disapproval of such things—he was making a special effort to relate to his men, using words of their heritage language to address them, to assure them they were important. The older clones were fluent in Mando’a and many made it their mission to pass that knowledge on to the younger generations, now that Jango Fett was no longer there to train them. They would rarely have full conversations, but Anakin heard them speak the language often, words and phrases in passing. It had become so natural that he hadn’t thought twice about it.

He was unfamiliar with this new word, however. Rex had never said that before. Anakin new the Kaminoans had not treated the clones well, but he saw Rex with his brothers—with their younger troopers especially—and he knew his captain had not taken much personality from his creators. He was good with the men. He was less willing to accept praise himself, however.

Anakin made a silent vow to change that.

. . .

Anakin spent the rest of the day honouring his vow, honouring his men left and right.

He did as he usually would, praising men in the corridors with “good work today”, and calling up to the clone mechanics atop the damaged gunships with “looking good”, and stopping by the infirmary with “rest up”. “Men” or “troops” would normally round off each encouraging call, but today he left them with “cyar’ika”. It earned him a lot of rapid blinking and confused smiles. Fives laughed aloud when he heard it.

“You too, sir!” he chortled when Anakin praised him in passing for a job well done, but he had always been boisterous. Jesse, walking beside him, stopped and stared, gaping a moment before Fives dragged him along.

Anakin knew the men must be accustomed to his praise by now, so he attributed their surprise to his newly learned term of affection and honour. He hadn’t spoken Mando’a before, it was true, and it clearly came as a surprise to his men. Anakin hoped they would become used to it. Each and every one of them deserved admiration.

“Captain,” Anakin greeted, settled in the debriefing chamber after an hour or so of practicing his new compliment, watching Rex enter, still fully armour-clad.

When the helmets were on, most clones preferred correct procedure and, as independently minded as Rex was, he was no different in that respect.

“Sir,” said Rex in return, lifted his hands to remove his helmet and it put Anakin at ease. “I spoke to the engineers. We only lost one gunship this time. The rest are repairable; some will need more time than others, but they’ll fly again.”

Anakin let him rattle on, listening patiently as his captain filled him in on battle time and potential changes. Rex was very much a man who believed his strategies could always be improved upon, no matter how much Anakin tried to praise him and his intelligence. It was just further proof of his humble, self-critical nature.

“Rex,” said Anakin, half interrupting his talk of rations and mentally kicking himself because he should have used that word. He would slip in in somewhere. “How are you? How are the men?”

“Very well, sir,” Rex replied with a small nod, not seeming surprised to be asked such a thing and that could only be good. “It’s not often we get out without losing anyone, so we’re all feeling very grateful. Worst injury out there are some second-degree burns. Kix is saying they’ll scar but won’t leave any lasting damage. We got lucky.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it. Your skill and tactical mind helped a lot of people today, cyar’ika. You should be proud.”

Rex didn’t brush off the praise as he usually would, and Anakin frowned as Rex stared, a slight flush to his cheeks.

“Sir,” he said eventually, cleared his throat, “if I may, where did you pick up that word?”

“Do the 501st not use Mando’a?” Anakin asked, worried now that Rex may have chosen to cut his Mandalorian ties and Anakin had just offended him. “I thought I heard you sometimes—”

“We—We do, sir. Many phrases are part of our daily… lingo, I suppose, but that…”

“Did I pronounce it wrong?”

“Sir… do you know what it means?”

It dawned on Anakin suddenly that it was an intimate thing to compliment someone in their own language. “Rex,” he said through an exhale, rising to his feet to take Rex’s shoulders. The captain’s flush deepened, keeping searching eyes on his general. “You deserve admiration. I know the Kaminoans taught you otherwise, but I make it a point not to listen to those who treat people like property… I know it’s a Mando’a word and I’m not a clone, so tell me if I’m overstepping, but I see us as brothers. I had hoped you felt the same.”

Rex gaped a moment, closing his mouth with a click. “Sir, I don’t think you know, so I’m just going to tell it to you straight. ‘Cyar’ika’ is a term of romantic endearment. Loosely translated it means ‘darling’ or… ‘sweetheart’.”

Anakin stared at him, slowly releasing his shoulders. The blushing was making sense now. “That can’t be right…”

“It’s what Fives calls his lovers… They seem to like it, I suppose, but—”

“That’s what Fives calls…?” Anakin echoed, trailing in disbelief because Fives’ response to being called Cyar’ika suddenly made a lot more sense now that he had that flirtatious context.

“What did you think it meant?”

“Well, I didn’t think that!” exclaimed Anakin, waving a hand because Rex’s lips were twitching in the beginnings of a grin. “Okay, no, there has to be some other context to it. Surely it can be used platonically.”

“It really can’t,” said Rex, tilted his head in interest. “Who taught you that word, sir?”

It clicked suddenly—properly this time—and Anakin exhaled in disbelief because there was no doubt in his mind that Obi-Wan knew the real meaning of that word. There was no question now that Obi-Wan had lied to him, or—at the very least—twisted the truth enough not to be honest at all.

“I made… an assumption,” said Anakin slowly, “and I was very mistaken.”

He wondered how deep his misunderstanding ran.

If it had reached a point where Obi-Wan was calling Cody by a name that could only be awarded to lovers, then the image he had created of his master in his mind must be very mistaken indeed.

Hnnnng I told myself I'd restrain myself, bit I can't XD Can you do Oh No or Double Trouble for Rex XD I know those were in my ehhh 'list' XD

Thanks for the prompt! This is the last of these I’ll be doing, so please don’t send any more requests in! I got way more than I expected to get, which isn’t a bad thing at all and I’m super grateful for (and surprised by) all the requests I got, but now my brain is like “why are you doing this to me.” Thank y’all!

Double trouble— character is sick and injured

Rex hadn’t meant to let the cut on his arm go untreated for as long as he did. It was difficult to get things treated in the midst of endless battle after endless battle, and Rex hadn’t had time to go to any of the medics to get it looked at. It was a pretty long gash, but not very deep, so Rex figured it would probably be fine.

He didn’t really like the way that it was getting red around the edges and was hot to the touch, though. That didn’t really bode well, but it probably was fine for a little while longer. He’d get it looked at after this next battle. Ignoring the way his arm twinged with every movement and the waves of nausea that coursed through him with every step, he continued on with his duties and led the men from the very front as he always did, General Skywalker by his side.

Getting slammed against a wall and then falling off a short ledge in the midst of battle certainly hadn’t been in his plans for the battle, but it happened nonetheless. He heard someone yelling his name and jumping down into the small crevice he’d found himself in, but he was too busy blinking back stars and ignoring the way his arm was screaming at him to pay attention to who it was. Now his head hurt a lot, and he realized that his helmet had gotten knocked off at some point during that whole ordeal. Opening his eyes ever so slightly, he found himself looking up at Anakin’s worried face.

“Go back to the men, sir, I’ll be fine,” Rex managed. His stomach decided then was the time to do some flips, and he barely managed to roll over in time to throw up. His arm screamed in protest, and one of his ankles felt like it was twisted, if not worse, and he was somehow both cold and hot at once, but he’d be fine.

“Sith hells, Rex, you’re in rough shape,” Anakin said, obviously ignoring the fact that Rex had told him to leave.

“Sir, the men—“ Rex began as he rolled back over onto his back (with a little help from Anakin, although he didn’t really register that fact).

“Will be fine with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka in the lead. I’ll help take you back to camp and to the medics, and help them with anyone who got injured along the way, okay? There’s no way you’ll ever make it there on your own,” Anakin said, holding out a hand for Rex to take. Rex begrudgingly took it, but realized a moment too late that it was the wrong arm. He bit back a scream when Anakin pulled him up, causing Anakin to look at him in concern.

“What all’s hurt?” Anakin asked, using the force to call Rex’s helmet to him.

“Ankle, arm, head, nausea,” Rex muttered, “Not all of that’s new.” Anakin lifted an eyebrow at him but didn’t comment on anything, instead using his real hand to feel Rex’s forehead.

“And you’ve got a fever, Rex!” Anakin exclaimed, “Yeah, no way are you going back to that battle.”

Rex merely grunted in response. Anakin warned him that they were about to jump out of the little crevice they were in. Rex nodded, but as soon as they lifted up and landed, he nearly threw up again. There was a rushing behind his ears, and he gasped as pain overtook him. He could vaguely hear Anakin talking to him before he passed out.

Rex woke up to a very unhappy Kix standing by his bed, tapping this foot and looking at Rex expectantly.
“Why, pray tell, did you not get that cut on your arm treated when it happened?” Kix demanded.

“Let a guy wake up first, Kix,” Rex muttered, gingerly sitting up in his bed, grimacing when his arm flared a little, along with the way his ankle protested at the movement..

“It got infected. Do you know how difficult it is for things to get infected with all the medical technology we have? If you’d taken 5 minutes to come get it looked at, it would’ve been fine, and I wouldn’t have had to fight for your life over something that was entirely avoidable,” Kix scolded, “Infections are deadly if they aren’t treated, Rex. If you hadn’t been injured out in the field today, by the time you came to finally get it checked, it may have been too late. We might have had to amputate your arm.”

Rex paled at the realization, eyes going wide. He really hadn’t thought it was that serious, but he certainly wasn’t the medic in the room.

Kix sighed and smiled at him kindly, “I’m just worried, is all, captain. I don’t mean to sound cruel. Just stating the facts. You’ve gotta take better care of yourself.”

Rex nodded, “Sorry, Kix. I won’t let that happen again.”

Kix smiled at him again, “I know you won’t. Now, General Skywalker was worried sick about you and I’m sure he’ll want to talk for a little bit. Should I let him in now, or let you sleep a little longer?”

Rex paused and sighed, “I suppose let him in now.” Kix went to go fetch the general, leaving a glass of water by Rex’s bedside.

Anakin came in not long after, going straight to Rex’s bed.

“I’m glad to see you looking much more… alive,” Anakin said as he sat down, “You passed out after I jumped out of that crevice. I had to carry you the whole way back— you are heavy!”

“Most of that’s the armor, probably. Adds about 70 pounds or so,” Rex said with a smirk, “But sorry about that, sir. You shouldn’t have had to leave the battle field because of one man.”

“When will you get it through that head of yours that I do that because I care about you guys? I would’ve done it for any of you. After I got you back here, I went back and helped with some of the other injured,” Anakin said, stroking his chin thoughtfully in a way that was reminiscent of General Kenobi, “We Jedi should do that more often.”

“I’m sure it would mean a lot to the men if you did,” Rex replied, “It’s not a horrible idea.”
“Ah, that’s basically saying ‘I love that idea’ in Rex-speech, so I’ll take it. I’m gonna go check on some of the other men— just try and take better care of yourself next time, okay? I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t with me. Probably go insane,” Anakin said, smiling and patting Rex’s shoulder as he drifted off to the next patient. Rex settled into his bed with a smile and slipped back into an easy slumber.

Many years later, after the Battle of Endor was won, Rex would find out from a certain blond-haired Jedi exactly what Anakin would do when Rex wasn’t with him.

Hi! I'm sorta new to tumblr, so I hope I'm doing this right. Can I get a 'whatever' sickness prompt with Rex from tcw?

You did it just right! One story with Rex reluctantly accepting help coming right up.

Rex is an incredibly stubborn clone. He can ignore his own health in great extremes. But there is one symptom Rex cannot ignore.

Barfing.

Rex cannot handle vomit. Not when his brothers do it, not when he does it, not even when an animal does it. So when Kix normally has to drag Rex to the med bay, if the good Captain throws up he will show up of his own free will.

As he has this morning.

Kix gives him a wry smile. “I’ll get you a disposal unit, sir.”

Rex eyes the door mournfully, debating whether or not he can ride this one out on his own. Especially when he catches a whiff of the other unfortunate souls in med bay.

“I’ll give you a private room,” Kix adds.

Rex reluctantly surrendered to Kix’s tender care. But that does not mean Rex’s reluctance is over. Oh no, getting him in the med bay is only the first step in getting him to accept help. Rex was a self-sacrificing dikut, and since he was in a private room, Kix couldn’t see when he was getting queasy and needed another hypo.

True to form, when Kix comes to check on him, the captain is laying flat on his back. On the floor. He’d thrown up, tried to get a glass of water to rinse his mouth out, gotten extremely dizzy, ended up on the floor, and hadn’t been able to get up again.

Kix sighed. “This is what the call button is for, Rex.” He pressed it into Rex’s hand. “Use it.”

When Rex did use the call button, it was for a glass of water to rinse out his mouth and for Kix to bring him a new disposal unit.

Kix rolled his eyes. “Rex, you do not have to suffer in silence. If you even think you might vomit, call me. We have medicine to prevent that.”

Rex remained silent, further proof of his reluctance to show “weakness”.

Kix glared at him and Rex opened his mouth.

Kix didn’t let him speak. “The men don’t need me more. They’re getting better because they actually tell me all their symptoms.”

Kix stared pointedly while Rex desperately tried to avoid eye contact. At last, Rex cracked.

“Well, my nose has been a bit runny and my throat’s been sore this last week. My whole body ached, but I thought that was just the campaign. And last night I was freezing, so I might have a little fever.”

“39.5 celsius,” Kix corrected as he stood up. “You have Puffer Pig Flu, and if you’d come when your symptoms started, you would not be currently tossing your rations.”

“Thank you, Kix.”

Kix smiled. “Your welcome, ori’vod. Next time just let me help you sooner, okay?”

Rex nodded like a good little patient and Kix snorted. Like Rex was ever going to be anything but reluctant and stubborn about accepting help.

Call of the Sea

Chapter 5 - Revelations Read on AO3

Summary: Ashla climbed the ladder. It gave her enough height to comfortably reach over the side of the tank. Rex rose slowly toward her, keeping eye contact as his head broke the surface.

Words: 2629

Warning: physical violence (nothing graphic)

 **********

 One of the men in red and gold livery was waiting for her when Ashla pulled up to Palpatine’s mansion. He opened the front door for her, then followed as she headed for the seascape hallway.

 “This way, miss,” the man said. “He’s in the lab.”

 Ashla’s gut clenched. That didn’t sound good at all.

 The man led her through a new hallway, through a door that led outside to a wide expanse of lawn.

 “What’s your name?” Ashla asked, trying to distract herself from the growing unease crawling up her spine.

 The man gave her a surprised look, then said, “Thire.”

Keep reading

IT IS I, THE CUDDLE PILE ANON. OK OK I KNOW I SAID THAT WOLFFE WAS MY LAST REQUEST BUTTTTTTT I HAD 2 IDEAS AT LIKE 3 IN THE MORNING sooooo basically one about the 501st (+Ashoka) and how they’d comfort Rex when he’s down. And another one were the 501st (+Rex maybe anakin) comfort Ashoka when she’s down. THEY’RE SUCH GOOD BIG BROTHERS 😭 in return for these 2 ideas, I shall gift you with my love and weird quotes my friends have said: “all I wanted was a 10 piece McNugg, I got spiritual enlightenment” “I know I’m not the sharpest kid in the shed…wait” preferably separate fics pls (when it’s convenient for u, YOUR HEALTH COMES FIRST GO DRINK WATER YOU FABULOUS AUTHOR) hey that kinda rhymed ok I’m done 🙃

So sorry I'm late on the first prompt, but finally here we are!

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"Uh oh, someone messed up."

When Fives is the one to freeze in the middle of a conversation, that gains the attention of the scattered 501st troopers nearby. Said newly minted ARC had been in the middle of a rousing story when he noticed that one of the medics decided to join the rest of the "plebs" willingly.

And not only a medic, Kix was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"Whatever it was, it wasn't me!" Kix raised an eyebrow as Fives lifted his hands, and gives an amused snort.

"For once it's not your fault. Any of you see Rex?"

"Avoiding you again?" Echo asked, looking up from the manuals he'd been idly reading. "Told him you were going to start getting angry."

"I'm past that, I told him I need to monitor his BSV recovery, and I can't do that if he insists on skirting the medbay. Now, since you all clearly don't have anything to do, I'm pulling rank and ordering you to hunt down Rex and bring him to me."

"But we just got our game going!" Hardcase cried in dismay, he and Dogma crouched over a board game they'd been gifted some time ago.

"Aw poor guy." Kix deadpanned, rolling his eyes. "Tell you what, the man who delivers Rex gets some of the treats Plo gave me."

"Seriously?" Hardcase finds the game suddenly not as important, even Dogma side-eyeing the medic along with the very quiet troopers around him.

Kix shook his head.

"The man who brings me Rex gets to have their own mini-stash."

The medic isn't sure he's seen any room empty so fast, shaking his head with a rare chuckle as he heads back to his beloved medbay. It's not the best look to send an entire battalion after their commanding officer, but at this point Kix was tired of the excuses and his concern for Rex's health was overriding his initial trepidation. The BSV and the lives it took in the bunker had sent a ripple of fear through quite a few men, not even able to bury their brothers who had to be burned to ensure no trace of the virus could remain. They were trained to fight against all sorts of enemies, but one that was naked to the eye and deadlier than any clanker was...uncomfortable to think about, and most medics didn't comment on an uptick of their fellow batchers reading up on viruses and how best to combat them. Kix didn't have too long before he received a message, gathering up his mobile kit before heading out and towards where Rex had been found.

"He's buried in his reports." Jesse had found Rex hiding in a communications room, and Kix just nods. "Want me to keep guard?"

"No, I have a task for you."

When the door to his current hideout opens, Rex wants to curse.

"So, are we done hiding?" There's a clunk on the console behind Rex as the medic's kit is set down, and the blonde just remains silent as he fills out another report. "I need you to look at me."

"I'm busy." The excuse falls flat, and Kix scoffs.

"Who isn't. Do I need to pull rank again, or will you let me do the bare minimum exam?"

"......."

Rex gives in after twenty minutes of silence, the captain grumbling under his breath as Kix descends on him. Despite not being pleased with Rex and his evasiveness, he takes care to keep most of Rex's attention him himself rather than his medical tools. Rex hadn't said it out loud, which to be fair he couldn't as to remain the face his men looked up to and trusted, but being subjected to more than a few nasty tests after being liberated from the BSV had not helped him recover from the fact he could have died without being able to save anyone, let alone himself. Medbay's hadn't been much to him before, but now Rex started going out of his way to catch Kix and the other medics outside of the room, reassuring them as always yet avoiding simple things like his recovery assessment.

"You have been recovering nicely." There's a very small slump of Rex's shoulders, but the medic says nothing as he packs up his kit. "I'll test the blood I took, but you're lucky."

"Like I've been saying, I feel fine." Kix raised an eyebrow, pausing to shoot the surprised commander a glare.

"Oh you are nowhere near fine, but I did promise to try and be nice right now. I order you to report to the barracks, you've been holing up away from everyone, and it shows."

"I have reports to fill out..." Rex winces at how weak his protest is, but doesn't get much of a chance to say more when the door opens once more to reveal Ahsoka. "Really?"

"Jesse says you can't ignore me asking you things." The togruta smiled, and Kix can see the tension visibly leaving Rex as the togruta crosses the small room with a smile.

"Jesse is a traitor." Rex grumbled, but Kix doesn't need to Force to see there was no malice in his words.

"Maybe, but he's right. You haven't seen come to our sabbac nights anymore, and not even Skyguy has seen you outside of shift. So, I'm asking you to come join us scrubs for the night!"

"I'm sorry scrubs?" Rex's eyebrows shot up as Kix failed to hide his snort of amusement, a small grin cracking his impassive face for the first time in ages. "Let me guess, Fives taught you that?"

"Mhm! Although judging by the two of you, it doesn't mean regular troops does it?" Ahsoka grumbled as Kix just barked out a laugh, Rex trembling in the effort to hold his own in. "I'm so getting back at him."

"As long as it doesn't involve personal injury, I'll help." Kix shook his head in amusement, watching Rex place his hand on Ahsoka's shoulder.

"I have a few ideas myself." He tries not to focus on the way the Jetti preens when he gets to his feet, shifting close to him as the trio head out and towards the barracks, listening to some of Rex's surprisingly good prank ideas to use later on.

No one kicks up a fuss when Rex finally joins them for the impromptu movie night Echo and Dogma had set up, just joking with him and laughing about the movie that was more a sound board than actually paid attention to. They all knew it was just background amusement, just happy to see their commander letting loose for the first time since the BSV and enjoying his men's company, leaving the bunker deep in his mind for another night.

Oh you NEED to continue the kid fic bc I’m obsessed! Not asking for a full fledged story (I mean hey, unless you want to) but just a small continuation at least please🙏 What do you hc their ages to be in it? What’s Morrible’s reaction to the bit at the end there? I need to know

ask and u shall receive, fair anon. their ages are roughly 5 & 8/9 9 think?

(direct continuation of this post btw - read that first! idk why this got so long, my bad)

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The woman seems taken aback by both the girls’ reactions, standing awkwardly above them. Elphie’s shaking hard, but she stands up with her arms spread and her knees locked as to prevent the woman from getting any closer. 

Galinda shouldn’t be such a crybaby, such a coward, but she can’t help feeling grateful for the older girl’s protection. The woman has stopped advancing, but she still looks angry.

She really should just stand up and accept it. Momsie hates when Galinda starts begging. She says it’s ‘unbecoming of a lady’ to wail like she does. It never makes it better. And running away? Why, that’s just asking for trouble.

With great effort, Galinda places a hand over her mouth to silence her cries, sniffling hard and swallowing down mucus and tears. She still feels sick to her stomach as she gathers her limbs. Just as she makes to stand, though- Elphie turns around, eyes wide as she shoves at Galinda. 

“Stay down!” she hisses. Her eyes flicks to the woman. “I won’t let her hurt you.”

The woman seems calmer now, more collected. Her previous fierce glare has shifted into something more curious than anything else. She raises a single eyebrow at Elphie’s statement. 

“I’m not planning on hurting anyone,” she says. “I…apologize for my outburst. I was merely concerned that something had happened.”

Galinda doesn’t believe her. She’d been yelling about blondes. Galinda’s the only blonde in the room; she had to have done something wrong.

Sometimes, when they’re in public, or she feels there’s a lesson to be learned, Momsie won’t punish her right away. She’ll make Galinda wait, knowing the inevitable is coming, letting it build in her belly until she’s so tied into knots she can barely even breathe. 

Perhaps this woman is the same. Or perhaps she’s waiting to see if Elphie does anything that will add to the punishment. Momsie does that as well at times. Counts indiscretions and waits until the end of the day to tell Galinda all the things she did wrong.  

The thought makes more tears leak down Galinda’s face. Gulping again, she stands up and resigns herself to her fate. She doesn’t want Elphie to be punished. Elphie is her friend. 

Galinda loves her. 

“Elphie,” Galinda whispers. At some point, she’d accidentally slid her thumb between her lips while blocking her mouth, and she’s quick to yank it out when she realizes. 

Only babies suck their thumbs, Galinda! 

Galinda hopes no one saw that. She reaches out to tug on the back of Elphie’s shirt. “I-it’s otay. I was b-bad.”

Elphie whips her head around, glaring. “No, you weren’t. You just had an accident; you’re not bad.” She turns her hard stare back to the woman, visibly trembling as she does. “She’s not.” 

“Of course, Elphaba,” the woman says smoothly, though she shoots Galinda a dirty look. Elphie flinches hard at the use of her name. 

“Do-do I know you? Or…do you know my father?”

There’s a pause. The woman tilts her head. “I do know your father,” she finally says. Slower than before. More calculating. Her gaze shifts to Galinda. “My name is Madame Morrible. I know who both of you are.”

Galinda whimpers. If this lady--Morrible--knows her momsie and popsicle, than she’ll probably tell them about Galinda’s accident, and then Galinda will be in even more trouble. She should just take her punishment now, no matter how scared she is.  

Galinda steps around Elphie on shaky legs. She glances up at Morrible briefly, too frightened to meet her eyes, then bows her head and clasps her hands.

“I-I’m sowwy, Miss Mowwible,” she whispers. “I made a mess and was bad. I’ll take m-my punishment now.”

Elphie tries to grab for her, but Galinda steps aside. She wipes an arm over her teary face. “Please don’ hurt Elphie. She’s my fwiend, and s-she’s been weally nice.”

Morrible bends down to be on Galinda’s face level, the little girl shrinking back in fear. Elphie comes up beside her in support. She has several inches on Galinda, and despite how clearly afraid she is, she’s also very clearly protective. 

“She’s just little,” Elphie argues. “You can’t punish her for being scared. No hits.”

Galinda gasps at Elphie’s boldness. You aren’t supposed to talk back to adults. She shudders as Morrible looms even closer, terrified her friend has just made things even worse. 

“Elphie, no,” Galinda whispers, stumbling on her heels when she leans back too far. The older girl steadies her, still glaring. You’ll make her mad, Galinda doesn’t say. 

Morrible’s eyes narrow, then she straightens to her full height, book dangling from her fingertips, and smiles. It’s not a very happy-looking smile. Nor a comforting one. 

“I’m not going to hit you, little ones,” she says. “It appears there has been some...confusion.”

Elphie grabs Galinda’s hand. “Are you going to send us home?” she asks. Galinda can’t tell by her tone if Elphie is hoping for a yes or a no. 

“Not yet,” Morrible answers. Her gaze flicks over their diminutive forms. “You see- there is magic at play here. Dangerous, powerful magic.”

Galinda feels Elphie wince, shrinking into herself. “Magic?” she questions, voice small. Galinda has always wanted magic- ever since her Nona told her about it. 

“Yes, dear. Magic. That’s why you are here. You may not remember, but it’s important you stay here and that you are on your best behavior as we sort everything out. Can you do that? Can you be good?”

Both girls nod tentatively. 

Galinda feels Elphie’s hand tighten. “Where is here?” she asks.

“Why, the Emerald City, of course.”

At that- Elphie finally looks up again, eyes bright. “The Emerald City?” she breathes. 

Morrible’s smile grows. “Yes. This is the palace of the wonderful Wizard of Oz himself.”

“The Wizard,” Elphie gasps. She seems delighted by the news. Meanwhile- Galinda is horrified. She peed on the Wizard’s floor! 

Galinda rocks back and forth, stomach knotting and tears resurging. She feels wrung out and overwhelmed, too small to comprehend everything that is happening. She’s away from home for the first-ever time, surrounded by strangers in a place she’s never been, and she still hasn’t been punished. 

The wait is agony. 

Elphie seems to pick up on her dip in mood, pulling Galinda a little closer and giving her hand another squeeze. “M-miss Morrible? If we’re not going home, where are we going to stay?”

Things move a little faster after that. More people enter the room, tall men in shiny armor whose eyes all widen in shock at the sight of the children. Galinda leans on Elphie’s arm, letting the taller girl hold her against her side and whisper to her soothingly as they follow the men down the hall. 

The palace is vast, and every now and then Galinda catches sight of large furred creatures with massive blue wings and terrifyingly large teeth. It seems to take ages to get to a bedroom, Morrible telling them under no uncertain terms that they are not allowed to leave without permission. 

Elphie stands in front of Galinda again as the lady gives her instructions, points out the attached bathroom, and tells them someone will be by with food in a little bit. She doesn’t offer any clothes, even though Galinda’s are soiled and gross. 

When the door finally slams shut, Galinda all but collapses against Elphie. She’s confused and her head hurts and her stomach hurts and her dress is ruined and her lungs are aching. She’s clutching Elphie hard enough to bruise, trying to draw strength from the older girl, even though Elphie is terrified too. Elphie is confused, too. 

But Elphie is a big sister, not that Galinda remembers it, and so Elphie is able to shove down her fear and confusion and gently turn to Galinda, wrapping her in a hug as she breaks down in heaving sobs. She’s tired, and she’s hungry, and she doesn’t feel good. 

She says all this to Elphie, whining in a way she knows she’s too old for, and Elphie just rubs her back and shushes her. Eventually, Galinda’s legs give way to the force of her cries, and Elphie carefully picks her up, grunting with effort until Galinda is high enough to wrap her legs around the green girl’s waist and hold on. 

“It’ll be okay, Galinda,” Elphie says. “I’ve got you.”

“I-I-I want to go home,” Galinda cries. Even if she’s terrified of what her parents may say about how she’s behaved, it’s at least a predictable, almost comfortable fear. This place is new and cold and entirely too confusing to want to stay. 

“I know,” Elphie sighs. “Me too.”

Galinda frowns, slipping her thumb back in her mouth now that there’s no adults around to see. Elphie won’t mind. Elphie won’t tattle on her. As the older girl carries Galinda to the bed and carefully places her down, climbing up beside her to hug her once more, Galinda clings to her desperately.

Galinda wants to go home…but she also wants Elphie. She can’t bear the thought of parting with the older girl. The very idea of being separated sends ten times as much fear through her little body, making her shiver and shake as her stomach twists so hard she’s scared she’ll make a mess.

“Don’ wan’ you to l-leave,” she stammers out. She buries her nose in the crook of Elphie’s neck, breathing in her faint scent. It’s familiar. Comforting. Elphie’s warm body against hers as their hearts start to settle just feels right. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Elphie promises. She runs her fingers through blonde locks. “I would never leave you, Galinda.”

Galinda nibbles on her thumb, still worried and anxious. But the words soothe her a little, slowing the incessant flow of tears. She wonders if Elphie would want to come live with her when they escape. Elphie would be nice to her. Elphie wouldn’t hurt her. She wouldn’t yell at Galinda for being too dumb or too quiet or too emotional.

Elphie would love Galinda. Just like Galinda loves Elphie. 

I know this nose art is for the Bad Batch, but I can’t help but imagine another Clone Unit with a stronger claim on the Senator as a mascot. (And how much Anakin would FLIP THE FUCK OUT)

— Morale Booster

“REX!”

… And it looks like the paneling repair will have to wait, as his General’s boots appear next to his head beside the transport’s landing gear. He pushes himself out from under the machine on a dolly, flat on his back.

“Sir?”

“What is THAT?!” his fearless leader yelps, pointing dramatically, emphatically upwards and towards the nose.

He scoots out farther, past General Skywalker’s legs, and props himself up on his elbows to take in the three-quarters-finished pinup Hardcase has been taking such pains with for the last four hours.

“Morale booster, sir. Couldn’t do something clever like the 104th and their Plo’s Bros or anything, so–”

“So you chose SENATOR AMIDALA?!” Did his voice just crack? It did.

He shrugs. “Sure. She’s been through enough hell and high water with us.”

“She’s a SENATOR!”

“And she’s a keen eye with that blaster,” he reasons, jerking his head up to the painting, and the flawlessly detailed replica of the Senator’s favored sidearm, primed to fire and held at a jaunty, confident angle. He even got the chipped paint over the trigger guard right.

“Got the looks for it too!” Hardcase yells down from where he’s shading in a long bare stretch of thigh, pausing to vigorously shake his can of spray paint. “We might finally be able to give the 327th a run for their money, with General Secura and all.”

“GENERAL SECURA is half naked on the nose of a transport?!”

“What? No!” Of course not, that’s just tasteless.

There’s a clatter from up above as Hardcase puts his paints down and leans over the scaffolding, a hand wobbling skeptically. “Well… Technically…”

“She’s in her usual outfit, y’know, with the–” Rex explains, and zig-zags a finger down from his head, mimicking the General’s lekku straps. “–and the leather pants.”

“It’s just a little leg, Anakin, I don’t see what you’re so upset about.”

Oh thank all the stars and little planets. Backup. General Kenobi steps up beside his former Padawan to admire the paint job himself. “Excellent work on her hair, Hardcase,” Kenobi continues, tilting his head.

“Thank you, sir. Run a probe with some white and a little metallic gold through the wet paint, gets it to streak so the shine looks real.”

General Skywalker is starting to do that thing where he puffs up like an angry coppi lizard and splutters furiously while he tries to think of something else to be upset about. He can hear Fives rolling his eyes from the opposite side of the transport. General. Honestly. If you’re trying to keep a relationship secret, openly displaying your klik-wide jealous streak is not how you do it.

“The 212’s is worse, anyway,” Kenobi muses idly, as Hardcase carefully adds the supposedly “very distinctive” freckle high on the Senator’s hip, just below the split in her modified favorite Council dress. Skywalker starts to go wide-eyed at that, because his sabacc face out of genuine combat is complete sleenshit, and startles when his master continues.

“She’s on the 212th transport too?!”

“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous. We can’t have duplicates, that defeats the purpose,” Kenobi says, in that too-reasonable tone he takes on when he’s deliberately fucking with his former Padawan.

“'Cept Master Ti,” Echo yells, from somewhere inside the paneling he and Rex had been working on.

“Except Master Ti, yes,” Kenobi agrees, and shrugs. “But that’s to be expected. Rather like how so many people have that arm tattoo of a heart with the ribbon that says ‘Mom’.”

Rex personally knew of at least eight other clones that had that exact tattoo, though the ribbon was usually striped like Master Ti’s headtails, and nods agreeably. That seems to have sufficiently diverted Skywalker, or at least confused him.

“Then how is it worse?” Skywalker asks, a little desperately, then his face lights up completely with slightly malicious anticipation. “Is it the Duchess?!”

Oh boy. Rex looks up at Hardcase, who is biting down on his paint-splattered fist to keep from laughing, as General Kenobi gets that look.

“Certainly not,” Kenobi says sternly, and waits a full beat to drop his bombshell. “It’s me.”

Skywalker just stares.

“Though I’m reasonably certain Duchess Kryze had something to do with it, given the way I’m half falling out of my robes.”

Now he looks vaguely green.

“Or it’s some perverse joke of Master Windu’s. It seems his style. Cody refuses to tell me.”

And before Skywalker can come up with anything else to protest, Kenobi adds:

“Besides, Senator Amidala loves it. Hers, I mean. I haven’t asked her about mine.”

Apparently even Jedi can choke on air when sufficiently surprised. But really, where did he think they’d gotten the preliminary sketches from?