Title: Nothing But Bones
Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Era
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Alpha-17/Obi-Wan Kenobi, background cloneshipping
Warnings: Alternate Universe, Order 66, post-Order 66, PTSD, non-binary clone troopers, survivor's grief, OC death, bad coping methods, original slave characters, miscommunication
Summary: Alpha-17 finds Obi-Wan, after the galaxy's gone to hell.
Seventeen looked across at him. Kenobi had lowered the blaster, but he hadn't put it away. He looked tired, worn down and suspicious, and Seventeen found themself wanting to reach out to him, to pull him close and hug him, like Baar had done during bad nights on Kamino.
(Somehow, they'd gone soft, in the years between Rattatak and now. They weren't certain how to feel about that.)
"I thought you were dead," Seventeen admitted, knew from the way that Rokaia stiffened that she understood.
They'd thought Kenobi would, too—they'd never been able to hide much from him, not with his Force—but he just sighed and asked, in a tired voice, "Why are you here, Seventeen?"
Seventeen took a moment to debate all the possible answers to that, before saying, "I came here to die."
Rokaia let out a sound like she'd been stabbed, while Kenobi just closed his eyes, looking tired and worn as thin as Seventeen felt.
"Where's Cody?" Seventeen had to ask, because they couldn't imagine the little shit would allow their general out on his own, not when his mere existence was a crime.
"Cody," Kenobi said, agony in his voice, "ordered me shot."
Seventeen felt the words like a bolt in the gut, couldn't stop from staggering to the side, Rokaia dragged along with, shouting their name, until they could lean against the nearest wall, trying to catch their breath, to breathe through the horror of Cody, just another faceless body in armour, wanting the Jedi they'd sworn to Seventeen to guard with their life—on pain of a punishment spar or suicide runs or whatever punishment Seventeen thought would hurt enough—dead.
Kriff, they did not need that nightmare fuel.
They felt Rokaia pulling away from them, opened their eyes to look, see why, only to find Kenobi had approached, within easy reach, and Seventeen couldn't stop themself from reaching out, towards him, needing to touch, to know he was real.
Kenobi flinched.
Seventeen froze, hands outstretched, thought about pulling away. Stepping back. Leaving.
(Their voice had ordered him shot; their face had stood for a mutiny, had stared blankly at the scene of a murder; they could not blame Kenobi if he wanted nothing to do with them.)
Except, then, Kenobi reached out, catching one of Seventeen's hands with his own.
Seventeen felt it like an electroshock, couldn't tell if they wanted to flinch back or lunge forward, and so was left trapped in stillness, watching Kenobi step forward, closer still, close enough that Seventeen could wrap their hands around his throat and squeeze.
(They were a weapon, had always been, but they had never felt quite so dangerous around Kenobi before, not like this.)
"Are you going to shoot me?" Kenobi asked, quiet.
Something in Seventeen felt like it had cracked open, raw and bleeding, and they had to swallow down bile or a scream, they couldn't say which, before they could say, "No." Swallowed again, harder, and managed to add, "I'm gonna shoot Cody."
Kenobi's smile was a bitter, brittle thing, and Seventeen couldn't resist, any more, the urge to pull him close, against their chest, and wrap their arms around him, ignoring his stiffness, the terror that they hadn't seen on Rattatak, not once, but fancied they could smell on him, now.
Kenobi stayed stiff for a moment that dragged into hours and days, before he relaxed with a whispered, "Oh," and strong hands came up to clench at Seventeen's shoulders, tight enough to ache, to hopefully leave bruises deep, where they would throb for days, so Seventeen couldn't forget that this was real, that he was real. Here. Alive.
"I thought you were dead," Seventeen said again, tried not to care when their voice cracked.
"I'm not," Kenobi whispered, and squeezed Seventeen's shoulders, then pulled away.
