Beginning, Previous, Next, Masterlist
Warnings, for the entirety of part 7:
Creative liberties taken with the Force (we know why I am writing this), fake medicine, fake medical practices, fake science, wonky time keeping, enviable metabolisms, platonic cuddling between men, several somethings that are supposed to be panic attacks, bad grammar, spelling, and typos galore, hints of how the clones where raised (bad), bullying between children, child birth, abuse between partners, abuse of authority, Anakin Skywalker (excruciatingly low self esteem, unhealthy coping mechanisms, angst)(yes he has therapy, no it does not magically make him a functional human being. that is what a support network is for. also he is 19 and traumatized, give him a break because I won’t), horrible opinions about the use of beds
Anakin woke up the way he always did—all at once, with very little warning.
What was not normal, was that he was wrapped around something hard, and very much alive. His nose and forehead were mashed to something hard. He could feel
the someone he was wrapped around breathing in his hair, slow and even.
The Force was calm and almost shimmering in good things. Something hummed soothingly. No hint of threat, no sign of imminent doom. So what had woken him up?
When Anakin moved, brow crinkling in confusion, feeling cautiously around in the Force, something heavy tugged at the hair on the back of his head and something even heavier weighed down his sore shoulders.
He was comfortable—his shoulders could keep their protests to themselves until he wasn't getting the closest thing he'd gotten to a hug in weeks. He could stretch out the aches later.
He stabbed at the guilty tissues with the Force, stitching white-hot healing through each muscle fiber and ligament, until everything went loose and warm and not liable to snap like twigs if he so much as twitched. Just to be thorough, he continued the treatment throughout his body, limb by limb going lax.
Once he was finished, he sighed, letting what remained of his tension leak out of his body. Mmm. Yes. He set about melting into the hard safe-echoing radiating warmth into the Force.
Something stirred. The weight in Anakin's hair twitched, and it slowly dawned on him that the two were connected.
He pulled his head back to get a look, just as the...person he was wrapped around snapped awake.
His eyes met a very surprised Rex's.
Anakin suddenly became very aware of what his limbs were doing.
Rex's hand was in Anakin's hair, which had only just gotten long enough to truly grab, and his other arm was wrapped tightly under and around Anakin's shoulders. Anakin himself had his flesh fingers half stuffed down Rex's cuirass from under his right arm. His mech hand was pinned under Rex's waist and locked around his utility belt in the small of his back. Rex's leg was thrown across Anakin's hip, pinning his legs, effectively immobilizing him if not for the Force.
Anakin forehead, he realized with a burning sense of horror, had been smashed into the upper edge of Rex's chest plate, dangerously close to his backs clad neck. Rex's nose had also, apparently, been buried in his hair.
Why? Why was it always him?
Aayla never woke up wrapped around her commander, and not because Commander Bly would be opposed to it, either!
Thankfully, Anakin had long since developed the habit of maintaining his equilibrium. It was critical to his success as a pilot, or, well, it certainly helped that it was very hard to make him dizzy. Another benefit was that Anakin, generally, did not blush unless he forgot himself. He had not forgotten himself in years, and right then didn't break his streak.
There was only so much his dark skin could do to hide his rising blush. Even if that wasn't case, his embarrassment shrilled through the Force, clear as a whistle, fingernails clawing gorges into Anakin's shields.
Anakin's mech hand spasmed around Rex's belt, and he hastily jerked it off. He yanked his flesh fingers free for good measure.
Rex rolled away to bounce to his booted feet, and Anakin hastily followed his lead, jerking up off the floor with only slightly more creaks and pops than he got from sleeping six hours on his current assigned bed.
A quick check of his IV lines shows nothing had been dislodged, if one could call an inch and a half of needle sunk in one of his larger veins 'lodged', and a quick swipe of his flesh hand reordered his awkwardly grown out hair as well as any comb could manage at this stage. His sleep clothes were a lost cause and he didn't bother with them.
That settled, Anakin quickly felt around for the bond.
His fingers froze mid motion of smoothing out a twist in his IV lines, and he blinked sightlessly at what he found.
Sometime during their involuntary nap, it had quieted to a constant thrum, deep in Anakin's mind. It shone, bright and blue, stronger that any bond Anakin had ever had, save for the one he had had with his mother. He stroked it reverently. He stopped reluctantly when he saw Rex shiver.
"How do you feel, Rex?" His shields had come back up, Anakin noted, but the bond was still wide open.
Rex made a series of tiny movements that felt practiced. It also felt familiar, though Anakin couldn't put a finger on why. When he finished, Rex shrugged. "Like I took a nap in my armor."
Anakin accepted that. "Fair."
He opened his mouth to ask about the bond he had found, and accepted. Thin as it had been, it had still been much more then he had expected, much more than Rex should have been able to manage. Reason kicked in before he formed the first word, and his teeth clicked shut.
This was not a place where things like that could be discussed. For the same reasons Anakin didn't ask Kix about the things he had felt, had seen, Anakin could not ask Rex about this. Some things were better left unspoken. It was safer that way.
"Headache?" Anakin asked instead, gesturing wastefully, uselessly, at his own head. "Weird floaty feeling?" From what he had been able to gather, the former was usually a symptom of a successful bond, the latter was...mostly a hunch, some half forgotten memory that refused to manifest as anything but instinct.
The unshielded bond pulsed, like a heartbeat, and it took entirely too much willpower to keep from curling around it like it was his only heat source on Hoth. He didn't move to shield it either.
The Mind Healers had been clear; to drain power, the bond could not be shielded to the extent he was used to. Especially not with a Null—even if that wasn't actually what Rex was.
They would need something, if only to keep Anakin's existence from burning Rex's mind to a crisp, or whatever might happen. If nothing else, it was necessary that he at least tried to give Rex all of the privacy he should have naturally, as is every sentient's right.
To his credit, Rex actually took the time to consider Anakin's question, before shaking his head. "No, sir." There was no lie in his words.
Anakin let himself breathe just a little more easily. So far so good.
Something itched again at the back of his mind. Dozens of unprocessed sights, over heard conversations, little comments, all stockpiled in an unprocessed jumble bouncing around in the back of his head. He groped around for it until it manifested into understanding.
Armor is incredibly uncomfortable to sit in. Especially on the ground.
Anakin winced. Blast it. "We can do the next part at the table."
Rex quirked an eyebrow ever so slightly up, but nodded agreeably. "Next part, sir?"
"Yeah, I have a hole in my shields that leads directly to your mind," Anakin explained. "If someone, say—" Anakin waved a hand, gesturing for Rex to take his usual seat, while he moved to start straitening the mess he'd left the day before in his quest to extract information from the holocrons. "—manages to break into my mind, they would have a straight shot to yours." Rex slowly started moving to his seat, seemingly having come unstuck from his stance a few feet away from their impromptu nap space, then more rapidly. He eased himself down smoothly. Eyes fixed on his scattered datapads, off Rex, Anakin shrugged. "Beyond that—" does he actually need another reason? Shouldn't personal security be a pretty big thing for Rex, soldier and Captain and Vod? Well, Anakin had started the sentence, may as well finish it, "—it kind of feels like I have a...sheer cliff right behind me." Was that a good way to explain what Rex felt like in the Force? No. Did Anakin have a better way of saying it? Also no. "It's kind of..." stunning, "distracting."
Anakin glanced up just in time to see Rex's cheek flinch, and felt how he almost... curled in on himself on his side of the bond.
Non-threatening. He needed to be non-threatening, and calm.
A quick glance showed his working area of the table to be as clear as it was going to get, so he sat down, arranging his aching limbs into a relaxed, peaceful sprawl he had spent years teaching himself to avoid. Had made himself learn to fall into its exact opposite. Going against that made his skin crawl, but he'd done worse for people he cared about less.
"There is also the matter of privacy," he said as flippantly as he could when speaking of this particular topic. He smiled drolly. "I imagine you don't want me to catch every stray thought that's just a little too loud."
Rex inhaled sharply, then held it. Anakin watched, fascinated, as the thoughts he still couldn't read churned through his Signature from his side of the bond. Knowing that whatever Rex thought of wasn't always entirely negative when his face did that was nice. Rex nodded a second later, decision made.
"Understood, sir." He fixed his already impeccable posture. "What do I have to do?" His determination burned in his eyes and mind.
Anakin found himself reaching for the droid parts in front of him so he wouldn't try reaching for Rex. Rex did not need him to be clingy right now. Better to fiddle with the mouse droid he'd started building when he'd finished the comm he still needed to test last night, than crowd his Captain.
Rex had made it more than clear where his personal space started, and exactly haw far Anakin was allowed into it, and for what reasons, what circumstances, it was allowed to be breached. This was not one of them.
"To start, you already have shields. That means you know how to build them, right?"
Rex nodded. "Yes, sir. It's one of the first things cadets are taught."
"Yes, sir. We were made for the Jedi." Yes, and Anakin hated it. He'd say it in those exact words to the entire Council if the subject ever came up, too. As if sensing his thoughts—not out of the realm of possibility anymore—Rex pinned him under a nearly earnest golden-brown gaze. "Jedi, as a rule, are empaths. As our Generals," Anakin laced his fingers together, and squeezed his medal digits. He did not like where this was going, "it wouldn't be professional if we distracted you because we couldn't control our thoughts and emotions."
And of course, Anakin thought bitterly, their privacy was just a side effect.
He broke off the thought before the flare of anger in his chest can boil over into something More. He has an unshielded bond with his Captain, he reminded himself. He must control himself, now more than ever. Its not like he can change it anyhow.
It is good to care, but being that angry won't help Rex, won't help his men.
Shouldn't have told Rex he was a distraction—that hurt him—Anakin didn't want to hurt him—
Positives. Focus on the positives.
He really hated being right sometimes.
"It's good you know how to shield," Anakin said carefully, after the seconds it took to ensure he wasn't about to blow up in misdirected rage. Should he apologize for saying something so thoughtless? Would Rex listen? "It'll make this much easier for both of us." Accepting would be his own choice, of course, but Anakin hadn't even scratched the surface for the horrors the Kaminoans had forced the Vod'e to endure.
He knew that the Kaminoans has drilled it into the Vod'e's heads that they were lesser, that the Jedi were better, one worth more that any number of them. Living legends do not apologize to clones they had purchased for the sole purpose of dying on command.
Anakin...had only wanted to not be a Jedi more than he did in that moment once before.
Anakin breathed in deep, then let it out slowly. He put the cloying curling shame to the side, where he left useless things to starve.
He was a Jedi, and while that in and of itself was not a bad thing, the path the Order was on only lead to rot and ruin. Slavery had that affect. He had no way of changing it, and the only was to not be a Jedi was to leave the Order. Leave the War. Leave the men.
Was it better to a monster who can keep people safer than they might be otherwise, or a good person who couldn't? Anakin didn't know, but he had already made his choice.
"Shielding a bond," he began, "is not that different from shielding you mind. In my experience, the biggest difference is that one is a natural inclination, and the other is not. Most people have regular shields they simply develop with time, and hold instinctively. Shielding bonds usually only happens during fights between the bonded, or when one or both are in danger."
Then why should they do it? Rex thought very loudly; so loudly it almost sounded like words when it shot through their very unshielded bond. His face, of course, shows nothing of what he felt.
If Anakin wasn't used to getting random passerby's feelings and images plastered to the surface of his own thoughts he may have responded more strongly than just a slow blink.
He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, and continued as if he hadn't sensed the pointed thought, droid gut click-click-clacking together in his fingers. It was a reasonable question though, so he paused long enough to regather his thoughts in a way that may answer the unasked question anyway.
"Force Sensitives are a different beast altogether. For one thing, we don't generally naturally create any sort of shields on our own. We have to deliberately craft them. Most do, even without training, simply because everyone needs a break from the world. Even still, those shields are still usually weaker than the average trained Sensitive can achieve," Jedi or not, he adds silently. "For another thing, if we do not shield our bonds, we are more than simply intimately aware of what our bonded are feeling, or where they are. It's..." Anakin trailed off, trying to find the words. Examples that might convey even a little of the dangers of sharing a mind space with another Force sensitive flicked through his brain, examined, then tossed aside when found to be inadequate.
"When two people spend a lot of time together, they inevitably start learning from each other, taking on characteristics from each other," he started. "With a Force bond, that happens even more quickly. Partly because it ensures they are aware of the other's emotions, and...more intense thoughts, where they are, what state their body is in, etcetera—" he had a point, he was sure of it. What was it? "—and partly because the bond also allows the people to share impulses, experiences and even dreams, however involuntarily." Anakin swallowed. He didn't want anyone to have to endure his nightmares.
He didn't want to endure them, by the Force he wasn't going to let his men experience them if he could stop it.
The Force nudged him, urging him to voice it. As if anything could ever be that simple.
The words jumble out of his mouth almost before he could think about it.
"Nightmares are unpleasant at the best of times, and I'd rather not share mine."
Anakin winced belatedly, and bit the inside of his lip until it stung. Telling the truth was rarely ever a bad thing, he reminded himself.
The wash of shame that crashed through the bond was worse. When Anakin snapped his head up to look at Rex, having let his attention sink down to the mouse droid, Rex avoided his eyes.
"Understood, sir." He sounded as professional and crisp as always, but he wasn't meeting Anakin's gaze. Rex had never done that before. "I'll do my best." His shame was chocking.
Rex always did his best. That was never in question.
Anakin didn't want his shame; he just wanted Rex to understand.
"I—" the words lodge in Anakin's throat, thick and rotten sweet. What had he said? How did he fix it?
Rex chose that moment to finally meet his eyes. Golden-brown, wide and characteristically determined, Rex's gaze was steady.
Anakin opened his mouth again and started explaining the relatively painless process of shielding a bond.