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ihathbenobiwankenobied · 1 year

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the shared tent

Part three of 212th Medic Skull Has Had Enough

Summary:

“Did you see Cody?” Skull’s head snapped up from where he had been reading through the list of incoming casualties waiting for treatment.

Cody certainly was not one of them. Skull checked the list again with a glance.

“No?” Skull asked questioningly and set the datapad down on one of the empty medical cots that had been set up at basecamp. While only a few had been filled the day before, the most recent wave of separatist attacks had left at least forty troopers injured. Skull’s head was already spinning after two hours of tending to the most serious ailments after triage; he couldn’t even remember the name of the force-forsaken planet they were fighting on at this point.

“He’s limping, Skully. Saw him trying to hide it when he walked by here earlier.” Oxy threw his thumb over his shoulder at the opening of the tent.

Perfect.

(Or, another follow-up to Skull's infamous run-in with the 212th's newest secret couple. This time, Skull finds an injured Cody in Obi-Wan's tent.)

Word Count: 3,624

Read part One here on tumblr or on ao3

Read part Two here on tumblr or on ao3

“Did you see Cody?” Skull’s head snapped up from where he had been reading through the list of incoming casualties waiting for treatment.

Cody certainly was not one of them. Skull checked the list again with a glance.

“He’s limping, Skully. Saw him trying to hide it when he walked by here earlier.” Oxy threw his thumb over his shoulder at the opening of the tent.

Perfect.

Skull had only seen Cody for treatment once, and that was even months before the war. The only reason the stubborn Commander had even come to him was to avoid letting the Kaminoans treat him for what he referred to as a small laceration on the forehead.

Small laceration, it was not.

Since then, Cody had seemingly become an expert at avoiding injuries. He was a skilled fighter, Skull was smart enough to know that, but having a Jedi in arms reach most of the time was likely a factor as well, especially given Cody’s status with their particular Jedi.

“And you didn’t stop him?” Skull asked, tucking the datapad under his arm, and pulling on a fresh set of medical gloves as he prepared for his next patient whose shoulder needed a few stitches. He raised his eyebrow at Oxy as he motioned for him to follow.

“I would have, but he gave me– you know– a look.” Oxy said from behind him, arms filled with several cases of medical supplies.

Skull scoffed at him.

“He looked at you? No wonder they made you a medic; scared of a little eye-contact?” Skull said as he approached the injured trooper laying on his side on a bloody medical cot.

“No– you know just as well as I do he wouldn’t come here even if I asked him nicely.” Oxy said dramatically as he let the cases fall to the floor with a resounding thud. The trooper on the bed groaned.

“Well, maybe if you asked he wouldn’t.” Skull said, opening the first case and quickly pulled out a set of sterilized needles. “Go find him and tell him Skull wants to see him.” At that, Oxy snorted.

“Really?” He asked.

“Really.”

Oxy looked at Skull blankly, almost waiting for permission to ignore the request, as the medic opened a container of topical numbing bacta. Skull nodded at him once, a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

“Fine, I’ll try to get him here.” Oxy groaned.

Twenty minutes later, Oxy returned– with no Commander in tow. Skull was not surprised, it was certainly a longshot to expect the stubborn Commander to listen.

Skull eyed the list of troopers who remained to be treated and checked the time.

1900, and seven troopers left to go. He sighed, and got back to work.

He spent the next two hours pressing bacta patches over superficial blaster wounds, treating minor burns from the hot sand, and administering hypos left and right, until finally, things seemed somewhat under control.

Stepping into the enclosed medical supply shipping container that had been left with them on the planet’s surface, Skull found Oxy searching through a medical case. He looked up when Skull grunted loudly.

“No luck with the Commander earlier?” He asked, stripping his used gloves off and disposing of them before grabbing his helmet where he had placed it on a shelf earlier that morning.

“Did you really think I would? He told me he was fine. He said he would rest– like I believe that.” Oxy said with a shrug and an eyeroll.

“Fine my ass.” Skull said, placing his bucket over his head, “Was he still limping?”

“Wouldn’t get up. Said he was busy doing paperwork. We all know Cody pawns that off on Waxer.” Oxy said with a chuckle, but Skull didn’t find it quite as funny.

If Cody wasn’t willing to even get up and prove his medical innocence, it had to be at least painful enough for it to show when he stood. The thought did little to ease Skull's whirring mind.

“Keep watch for me,” Skull said, slapping Oxy’s shoulder and pulling his field-medicine bag from where he had deposited it on the shelf next to his bucket, “I’m going to find him myself and see what exactly the problem is. My comlink is on if you need me.”

With that, Skull walked– more like marched with purpose– out of the supply container and through the exit of the medical tent. He had little patience to wait any longer to get Cody– and his little pride situation– resolved.

Darkness was slowly encompassing the planet as the last of the daylight slowly disappeared into a vibrant green sunset. Skull checked the time on his comlink and swore under his breath.

2100, almost nightfall.

He wanted to catch the Commander before he went to sleep– he was always known to be up at some unholy hour in the morning, and Skull wasn’t about to be the one to cross a sleep-deprived and injured Cody first thing in the morning after disrupting his sleep the night before.

Picking up speed, Skull headed briskly towards the few smaller tents that typically belonged to high ranking clones and the Jedi. Cody’s telltale orange and black trunk was situated outside of one of the tents, though it was covered in blown sand as if it hadn’t been opened since his return from basecamp.

Skull approached the outside of the tent, almost reaching up to knock before realizing there was nowhere to knock. “Uh–” He started, “Cody– you in there?”

No response, just the distant babble of troopers rallying around a fire.

“Cody?” He asked again louder, ear facing the doors of the tent to see if he could hear any movement inside. If Cody was ignoring him, he was doing a damn good job of pretending to be asleep. Skull called out once more, just slightly louder, before deciding to kriff it all and just barge in through the flaps.

Inside the tent, there was nothing– not even a bedroll or lantern.

All that sat inside the tent was a folded blanket tucked in the corner, a couple of ration bars, and a few full bottles of water.

Skull blinked at the scene, eyebrows raised in confusion, before it all of the sudden dawned on him.

Kenobi.

How could he have forgotten so soon? It had been only a few weeks since his last intervention in the shared “Ken-Cody” quarters as he and Oxy had so brilliantly named Cody’s apartment on the Negotiator. Perhaps Skull had figured the two of them would have a little more sense to keep their secret relationship a secret when they were out on a mission with hundreds of troopers.

For two highly intelligent beings, Skull was surprised at how careless they could be.

With a sigh, he turned to glance over the remaining small tents, trying to pick out the General’s from the rest of the crowd. He immediately noticed one had a pair of tall dark boots outside of them, neatly placed beside each other upside down on a rack, likely to try and knock the sand out of them. On the ground, a small topical leather treatment sat in a closed tub.

It seemed Kenobi-like– concerned about keeping his old boots in good condition, even in the middle of the desert.

He approached the tent, once again whispering out, “Cody– you in there?”

He held his breath, and this time heard a little squeak of a cot and a small sniffle and a feeble groan. He waited a moment, then another, and then opened his mouth to say something again, “Co–”

Before he could finish his sentence, the flap of the tent was pulled aside to reveal the General.

What an unlikely surprise.

Kenobi looked… exhausted, to say the least. His hair was disheveled, the long locks recklessly pushed back onto the top of his head. His eyes had dark bags underneath them, though that was relatively typical for him, and the white skin of his chest was exposed to the air, yet again. Unusually, he wore a pair of round-rimmed glasses that had been hastily thrown onto the bridge of his nose.

Skull did not remember reading anything about glasses in his medical file, yet they seemed well-worn, like he had owned them for years. Skull decided that was a question for later, and blinked back into reality.

“Skull? Were you looking for Cody?” Obi-Wan’s voice rose just above a whisper, and even in the minimal light left of the day, Skull could see that the tops of his cheeks were dusted with red. The general rubbed at his eyes with the pads of his fingers for a moment.

“Yes, Sir– is he here?” Skull asked, peeking past Kenobi and into the tent.

“He is– we were just doing an evening debrief.” Kenobi smiled and cleared his throat awkwardly, “I’m sure you’re here to see about his leg?” He asked, words trailing off as he finished them. No, Skull thought, you were certainly not running a debrief.

“Yes– supposedly he’s been limping. I’m assuming you knew about this? Why didn’t you tell him to come to me?” Skull said and kept his voice low, but he hissed the words out hoping Kenobi would read the room.

“He’s exhausted– I– I figured I could… try to heal it myself… while he was here.” Obi-Wan added after a momentary pause, not wanting to be caught in a dumb little lie. The General fully stepped out from the tent and closed the flap behind him.

“You what?” Skull tried to suppress his shock, but his choked voice rose an octave unintentionally.

What the kriff was he talking about? Skull could not imagine that a fracture or sprain could be healed in one night. What was Kenobi thinking?

The General seemed to sense his confusion and stared at the ground for a moment once before looking up. “I’m sorry– it’s the Force, Skull. Jedi can often use the Force as a tool to mend flesh and broken bones. I have done it once, though that was years ago now.”

Skull stood silently for a moment, mind processing the concept in real time. He had never heard of something so– well, out of touch.

“So what am I even doing in the GAR, if all you Jedi can heal people just-like-that?” He shook his head and adjusted his medical bag in his hands. The General reached out, an empathetic look on his face as he smiled apologetically.

“Apologies– I didn’t mean to offend. Not all Jedi have this capability, most do not, in-fact. Other Jedi have limited ability– such as myself– but it is draining.” Obi-Wan wrung his hands together, “Cody was tired,” He repeated wearily, “I just wanted to take the edge off– I assure you he would have been delivered to you first thing in the morning.”

Skull believed him, the General was not known to tell unnecessary lies, but he was disheartened by the idea of this… Jedi-healing.

“What makes it draining?” He asked, once again shifting his medical bag in his arms. If Force-healing was draining, that would certainly explain the way Kenobi swayed in the night breeze, eyes almost shutting between sentences.

“The healing?” The General asked. Skull nodded, “It is Force-exhaustive.” Kenobi continued.

Force-exhaustion.

The word felt heavy in his brain as he remembered a seminar on Kamino where he and the other medic trainees had been taught about the nuances of the Jedi, how the Force intertwined with their physical bodies and minds. He remembered Force-exhaustion– loss of connection to the force, incapacitation, acute illness.

“Then you shouldn’t be attempting it– this is a war, General, I am a medic for a reason.”

Obi-Wan looked taken-aback for a moment, but he straightened himself and nodded. “I will not attempt it again.” He said, swallowing harshly again, “It hardly worked anyhow.” Kenobi looked disheartened, then completely void of energy all at the same moment. Skull could see it more clearly now– his energy level was low and dwindling more the longer he stood.

“Thank you– now, please let me take a look at him, Sir. And you need to sit.” He demanded as he caught Obi-Wan’s arm while he wavered on his feet for a moment.

Once he had regained his bearings, Kenobi clung to the edge of the tent and stepped back inside to hold the flap open. Skull ducked down in front of him and squinted his eyes into the sudden brightness of a small lantern sitting in the corner of the room.

In the other corner, there was a cot. On top of it, Cody laid on his back with his eyes closed underneath two blankets. He wore his blacks, and unlike Obi-Wan’s boots, his were thrown unceremoniously by the end of the bed along with a pile of his scraped and scuffed armor.

“Is he asleep?” Skull asked, whispering as he gently placed his medical kit on the sand.

“Yes, he will wake soon– he is quite a light sleeper.” The General looked like immediately regretted his choice to share that piece of information, cheeks burning red still and his smile fading into a grimace.

That is information I did not need to know, Skull thought similarly. Though– it would be fantastic ammo for a later conversation with the aforementioned Commander.

Skull sat on the edge of the bed, pulling aside the blankets to find Cody in just his briefs. Skull certainly would have joked about the lack of clothing again if the Commander were awake, but instead, his eyes traced over the damage on his right leg.

A long string of purpling bruises mixed with red lumps surrounded his knee and curled down toward his ankle and upward onto the side of his thigh. It looked painful, and almost felt hot to the touch when Skull ran his fingers over the decidedly swollen flesh. “Did he tell you what happened, Sir?”

“He jumped into a ravine– he was blocked in by six clankers, and I suppose there wasn’t another way out.” Obi-Wan shook his head, clearly displeased at the sight of Cody’s leg. Displeased might not even be a strong enough word– worried, Kenobi looked worried.

“How did it look before?” Skull asked calmly, trying not to let himself look overly concerned; no sense in worrying the General more than he already was.

Skull reached for the package of painkiller shots he kept in his kit. Once, he had fallen from the top bunk in his quarters of Kamino once, and he had a lesser version of the bruising Cody had sustained. That was even enough to make him nearly scream in pain– surely Cody would want painkillers.

“Surprisingly, better than this– I accelerated the healing cycle.” Obi-Wan answered, voice almost seeming to hitch a little. Skull could tell by the purple and blue bruising that had already begun.

Skull set the hypo aside and took another moment to look over Cody’s battered leg. He knew he needed to feel for breaks or fractures, and he almost definitely would need to get him a scan once they had returned to the Negotiator, but he could barely find the will to wake Cody up to a rush of pain. The Commander looked relatively peaceful, which was a strange sight for Skull. In all the time he had known Cody, the creases in his forehead had never disappeared.

Regardless, he had a job to do.

Skull turned to look at the General whose eyes were wide with… guilt? Sorrow? Skull could hardly tell, but it made something twinge in his chest. Skull knew what the man was feeling– the crushing urge to make someone better, fix them, take away their pain. Empathy was a bitch sometimes.

“I think something is probably broken– I need to feel around. General– can you sit next to him? This is going to… hurt. I think it would help if you were by his side.” Skull was thinking less of Cody than Kenobi when he said that; the General looked as though he might pass out himself if he did not get off his feet.

Kenobi stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, before he nodded and sat next to Cody’s middle on the cot. Skull pretended he didn’t notice Obi-Wan’s hand slipping under the covers to hold Cody’s.

He made quick work of running his fingers across the top of Cody’s feet and around his ankles, not stirring up much of a response from the Commander other than a few sleepy groans.

As his hands felt around the dark purple flesh of his knee, Cody’s eyes suddenly snapped open with a gasp and then a louder, more pronounced groan. “Fuck!”

Broken, that was certain.

Cody’s chest heaved as he sucked in a few breaths of air, and his eyes wildly scoured the room. First, they landed on the General, confusion lacing his features, then they landed on Skull. Piercing.

“What the kriff, are you doing here?” Cody’s voice was rough with sleep, but his gaze spoke a thousand words. Skull was not intimidated.

“He’s–” Kenobi started.

“My job, Commander.” Skull said blankly, reaching for the hypo. “Painkillers?”

Cody gritted out an immediate, but somehow reluctant yes, and hissed as he shifted to sit up at his waist. Skull stood and pressed the hypo into his neck, not lost on the relief that spread across the General’s face as he did so.

There was a moment of tense silence as Skull crouched down to remove a long roll of bacta infused bandaging he had yet to have to use. It was long enough it could wrap around the majority of Cody’s leg, and would have to suffice until they were back on the Negotiator and Skull could get him into a submersion tank.

“You know Cody, the real question is, what are you doing here?” Skull said only with a hint of smug satisfaction layered into his tone. Cody’s eyes bore into him, unblinking. Skull could practically feel the irritation rolling off of him. “I only ask, because you should have been in the medical tent. I sent Oxy.”

“Others had it worse, I didn’t want to waste your time, Skull.” Cody said eventually.

“It’s not really as heroic as you seem to think– you could have had painkillers hours ago.” Skull unraveled the long bandage and taped it to the bruised flesh near his ankle. Cody sucked in a deep breath and the General discreetly rubbed his fingers over Cody’s bicep as he tensed with the pain.

It’s alright, you’re alright. Skull swore he could hear the gentle whisper of Kenobi’s voice, but he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it.

Cody did not have much to say in response to Skull’s words, just gritted his teeth and bit back little whimpers of pain as Skull did his best to wrap the wounded leg gently, but still with enough pressure to keep the bruising under control.

“And,” Skull continued as reached for his tape again and worked on taping around the edges of the bangaging, “I’ve already informed the General that Force-healing is not an option. I don’t care what the two of you do– but leave the kriffing healing to me.”

Now Cody’s cheeks burned a soft red, but he kept his mouth firmly shut for a second before he let out a biting remark, “You’re right Skull, it isn’t your business.”

Skull wished he could agree, but it was too much fun watching the Commander squirm.

Skull hid his smile as he stepped away, looking over his work for a moment, before he reached into his medical pack again. He pulled out a small container of three or four stims, enough to keep Cody effective when it came to the paperwork he would likely be doing in the days before their return to the Negotiator. He also extracted another two hypos of painkillers and placed both medications into the General’s arms. Kenobi looked over the items carefully, before standing to tuck them into his own bag that sat by the edge of the cot, not Cody’s.

Cody almost opened his mouth to say something, probably cursing out Kenobi for adding fuel to the fire, but he just shook his head absently instead.

“Here are your instructions,” He began as he closed his kit and rose to his feet, “Hypos once every twenty-four hours, stims only during the day when you’re doing paperwork, and absolutely no standing, walking… or physical exertion.” He looked Cody directly in the eye as he finished his spiel, watching as the Commander narrowed his eyes. “That’s an especially important reminder if you will be staying here with General Kenobi.”

Both of them looked sheepish now, but while Cody looked infuriated, Kenobi looked mildly amused.

“I’ll be sure he stays put.” Kenobi assured him with an abashed smile and squeezed Cody’s bicep. The Commander ground his teeth together.

With that, Skull nodded and headed toward the opening of the tent.

He turned back for just a moment, “Enjoy your night, gentlemen.” He stifled a laugh as he heard an exasperated sigh follow him out of the tent.

Oxy, yet again, was in for a great evening of conversation.

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catboydogma · 3 months

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not a miracle needed

wc: 940

notes: another 15-minute sprint, tho this one grew legs and ended up being more like 25 minutes lol. first foray into coday bingo !

summary:

Well, Cody wasn’t going to argue with his superior. He had better things to do. The artillery shell that had taken out the crumbling brick wall he’d been using for cover was— “Thank the Force,” Kenobi said. Cody found himself being lifted like a recalcitrant tooka and settled onto a gurney. He made to get up again and Kenobi easily pinned him with a hand to the center of his chest.

cross-posted to ao3

“Hey, hey, hey,” a strident voice said. It was much too loud and right next to Cody’s ear. He would have batted at it but his hands had become cold and leaden weights, and his eyelids weren’t responding to any of his commands. He did not panic, because Marshal Commanders did not panic.

“I’m fine,” Cody said. He wasn’t sure if the words ever made it past his tongue. It felt too big for his mouth, all dry and fuzzy.

A warm—burning, really—thumb peeled back one of his eyelids. Cody made another token protest, wincing in the harsh sunlight that blinded him for one heady moment.

“—requesting medevac at—” the too-loud voice that had jarred Cody from his cold and slightly dim wool-gathering was General Kenobi. His General Kenobi. A thrill of something—alarm, panic, and a weighty and fang-filled feeling that pulled at the pit of his stomach—shot through him. The shock of emotion and subsequent adrenaline was enough for him to jerk into motion, heaving himself up onto one elbow and then the other. What went through him next was considerably less pleasant. If he’d had anything left in him, he would have sicked up all over the General’s no-longer shining leather boots.

“Force preserve every little—” Kenobi bit himself off and wrapped an arm around Cody’s shoulders. “Stubborn,” he hissed against Cody’s temple.

The air was thick with smoke. Choked with it, really. Cody shook his head to clear it and then patiently blinked away the resulting black spots in his vision.

“Yes, you are,” Kenobi insisted, evidently taking the motion as some kind of refusal. He pressed the palm of his hand to the side of Cody’s face, mopping at the scalding heat that sheeted down his temple and left a wash of crimson all down his spaulder.

Well, Cody wasn’t going to argue with his superior. He had better things to do. The artillery shell that had taken out the crumbling brick wall he’d been using for cover was—

“Thank the Force,” Kenobi said. Cody found himself being lifted like a recalcitrant tooka and settled onto a gurney. He made to get up again and Kenobi easily pinned him with a hand to the center of his chest. “We took the southerly quarter and are waiting upon reinforcements for the city center. The Separatists are dug in and have taken civilian hostages—there’s nothing more to do here. Not yet.”

With great reluctance, Cody let himself be strapped to the gurney. Howl and one of his minions were saying something in rapid-fire shorthand, some kind of code a CMO—he strongly suspected Howl himself—had invented to make medbay instruction faster. In war, time was more precious than blood.

“You’ll be alright,” Kenobi said. He kept his hand over the side of Cody’s face until Howl pried his fingers away. Cody let the dizziness wash over him in waves. It threatened and receded in time with the black spotting his vision. His chin tipped toward his chest without conscious input and his breathing seemed too loud and ragged in his own ears.

“You will be alright,” Howl confirmed briskly, doing something on Cody’s far side while his subordinate did something by Cody’s boots. They were moving at a fast clip now but Kenobi still had a hand on the side of Cody’s gurney. He was doing—something. Cody wasn’t sure what but the wrinkle between his brows was a dead giveaway. “Won’t even get a matching scar to even out your face. How many fingers, Commander?”

“Three,” Cody grunted out. Whatever Howl was doing had somehow eased the swelling in his mouth. He must have bitten his tongue: it was still hot and swollen but it no longer filled his mouth and turned his words to mush.

“What’s your serial?”

“CC-2224.” Cody blinked one eye closed and then the other. The blood clotting the side of his face had been cleaned away at some point. Fuzziness receded in a great wave and stayed away this time. In its place a tide of searing pain swam up through his bones to make the palms of his hands prickle and the backs of his knees sweat.

“Duty calls.” Kenobi’s hand founds its way to the two square inches of Cody’s skin—just between spaulder and the strap of his chestplate where his body glove had torn or singed away in the blast—and gave him a firm squeeze. He looked redolent of sunlight, the golden near-dusk haloing him in brass and picking out every one of his flyaways in warm light. “Don’t try and stand up again, hm?”

Before Cody could reply, the General was bounding off and barking orders into the comm unit affixed to his vambrace.

“Arsehole,” Howl said. He managed to make it sound admiring. Somehow. “He’s right though, Commander. You got a nasty concussion, going to need stitches for your arm and leg, dislocated a shoulder when you landed, and I don’t even want to think about the state of your lungs. Congratulations, sir. You’ve narrowly missed getting tanked.”

“Never gonna catch on, Lieutenant,” Cody rasped. Howl gave him a little pshaw of skepticism in reply.

“You’ve no whimsy in your bucket, Commander,” Howl told him.

“Left it all in the vat.” Cody let a chuckle escape him and instantly regretted it. Howl patted his shoulder in sympathy, pretended to start a countdown, and stuck a needle in the crook of Cody’s elbow.

The darkness rose up in the wake of the pain, the exhaustion, the vertigo. Cody was out like a light before he knew it.

#hurt/comfort #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #a heat rash in the shape of the show me state #cody day #coday #cody bingo #tcw fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars #eehn. i dont care enough to add more tags #aaaaaand POST

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