Chapter Text
When Cody works his way back to the waking world several hours later, it’s to find Coric standing over him, typing something out on a datapad. He squints up at the medic, the pain behind his eyes just as sharp as it had been earlier and the nauseatingly bright overhead lights of the med bay only making it worse.
"Commander," Coric greets distractedly, with barely a glance in his direction.
Cody groans, feeling completely drained, and rolls to stuff a pillow over his head in an attempt to block out the offending brightness.
"If you are going to vomit," Coric says, still looking at his datapad, "For fuck's sake, please use one of the emesis bags on your bedside table."
Cody shoots him a glance from under the pillow, eyebrows raised. "I take it you've had some trouble with that?"
"You've no idea," Coric responds, dropping his datapad on the table irritably as he turns to tweak something on Cody's IV.
"Well, I'm not feeling nauseous anymore, so you don't need to worry about me," Cody grumbles.
"Uh huh. That's what they all say. Right before they throw up all over the kriffing floor."
Cody rolls his eyes, feeling unreasonably petulant, and shoves the pillow back over his face.
Coric snorts lightly in response. "You're getting an anti-emetic, along with saline and a mild pain killer through your IV. I'll up the dose of the pain medication and add a sedative when the muscle pain starts setting in."
"Great," Cody sighs. "I look forward to it."
Coric merely pats him on the knee as he walks away from the biobed.
Cody rolls back over to see his comm, which had been tossed onto the bedside table, blinking with an unread message. Upon picking it up, he discovers that Rex had sent him a message several hours before.
CT-7567: You alive out there?
Cody takes a deep breath, eyebrows furrowing as he types.
CC-2224:
Barely. Nearly puked all over General Kenobi.
He replies, feeling the desire to disappear into the mattress as he is forced to recall the events from earlier in the day. His comm beeps with a return message almost immediately.
CT-7567: That would have been something. You got that flu?
CC-2224: Looks that way. I am confined to med bay until further notice.
CT-7567: Sorry Codes. Skywalker is helping push for a solution from the Council and he says General Kenobi is relentless. He's sure they're going to have something soon. Until then, get some rest. We both know you are going to give your poor medics a run for their credits.
CC-2224: Yes sir.
CT-7567: In all seriousness, Cody, I hope you feel better.
Cody tosses his comm back to the table with an exasperated but fond smile. Rex is just as much of a mother hen as Obi-Wan is, sometimes, but Cody supposes that he has the same protective streak in himself as well. He settles back onto the pillows with a sigh, and allows himself to drift back into sleep.
Time passed in an indiscernible haze of bright lights, the hum of medical devices and the smell of antiseptic. Rather than improving, Cody noted within the first twelve hours that, though his symptoms were changing, he was actually feeling worse. His thoughts were becoming heavy and slow, and everything felt disjointed and fuzzy. A bone deep fatigue settled over him like a weight and kept him anchored to the bed, unable to even sit up. His world narrowed to fitful stretches of sleep and the brief periods of miserable wakefulness he managed in between.
Cody noticed Longshot was a near constant presence in the med bay, sitting beside Kit - he would often wake briefly to see the sharp shooter running his fingers comfortingly over the CMO's forehead, murmuring things that Cody could not make out. Kit could not seem to rest properly and would toss and turn in fits of fever dreams, only falling into a deep sleep when he could sense Longshot’s steady presence. Without Longshot nearby, Cody would sometimes hear Kit surge awake with shallow, panting gasps, as though from a nightmare. Cody would turn as though to offer comfort when the normally audacious medic curled in on himself, trembling, but he lacked the strength to even force words out. Coric would come sweeping in, bending quickly over the CMO with his face drawn, his voice more tender than Cody had ever heard, while he calmed Kit with soothing hands.
Across the room, in another row of beds, lay Fives and Waxer. At Fives' bedside was Echo, sometimes quiet in his unwavering support, but also cracking jokes and making Fives chuckle, despite his weakened disposition. Boil sat, a grounding presence, next to Waxer, and read out loud occasionally from a stack of data pads he'd brought along whenever the lieutenant was able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. Though Cody wasn't coherent enough to make out the exact words from across the room, he found the low drone of Boil's voice calming, and it often lulled him into sleep.
At the thirty six hour mark, Cody's fever spikes and the muscle spasms set in. He spends half his time in a muzzy state of not-quite-asleep-but-not-awake-either, periodically jerking back to full consciousness with a gasp and curling onto his side, fingers gripping the blankets like a vice when a particularly bad spasm grips him.
It’s during one of those spasms that, as he is slammed forcefully into wakefulness, shivering and covered in a cold sweat, he sees someone leaning over him, all brown and cream and copper. He is able to focus his vision enough that Obi-Wan’s face, tight with concern, swims into view. The Jedi’s lips are moving, he is speaking, but Cody hears everything as if through deep water. He chokes out an involuntary cry as another spasm dances agonizingly up his spine and Obi-Wan places a hand gently over his forehead. For a moment, Cody feels a strange, encompassing warmth pass through his body, soothing his aching joints and ragged muscles as it leaves a tingling sensation in its wake - the force, his fever addled brain supplies dully.
He relaxes momentarily, just in time for Coric to lean into view on his other side, also saying something that Cody imagines is meant to be reassuring. He doesn’t quite catch it and before he can ask, the medic shoves a hypo spray into his neck. He only has a moment to register that it’s a sedative before it pulls him under.
Cody flits in and out of consciousness for Force knows how long. He surfaces once to see the blurry outline of his General again, this time slumped and clearly asleep in the chair beside his bed. He reaches out, trying to find his voice, but falls back, drained, as he is dragged back into unconsciousness. He wakes again, hours or days later - he isn't sure - and Coric is above him, fiddling with something on the machine that controls Cody's IV and monitors his vitals. Cody hears someone retching across the med bay and watches as Coric winces and swears before vanishing from his vision. Cody is quite sure they are keeping him under near-constant sedation, but has no time to reflect on it as he slips under again.
The second to last time Cody is able to surface into murky consciousness, despite the heavy undercurrents of the sedative, he is convinced that he is dreaming. The med bay is quiet and dim - seemingly asleep itself - and Obi-Wan floats silently, ghost-like between the rows of beds in the darkened room. He pauses here and there, his hands hovering steadily over each of the troopers who lay prone within the biobeds. Cody realizes, with no small amount of consternation, that the Jedi is using force healing. He has half a mind reprimand the self-sacrificing man, chastise him for using up his own precious energy reserves. Before he can think too far into it, however, he remembers the peaceful feeling that had overcome him as Obi-Wan touched him with gentle hands and pulsed warm and steady in the force, to soothe him back into sleep. He sees each one of his men relax under their General's outstretched hands in turn and is unable to bring himself to rasp out a reprimand. The vision of Obi-Wan's tired smile follows him back into the darkness.
Cody dreams.
In his dreams, he relives battles, both real and imagined. He hears the cries of his injured and grieving men rising above the metallic din of the droids in a horrifying refrain. He dreams of blood, rivers of it, flooding through the Negotiator, drowning everyone within. He dreams of being swept away as it crashes into him in a wave that he struggles to surface from. In the dream, he struggles towards some golden light, warm and gentle as it pierces the deluge with brilliant rays of luminescence. He gasps for air, kicking his legs with all of his strength, trying to stay afloat as he reaches a hand out to the light, but he falls short and is swept away by the torrent of blood. He feels it dragging him under, pulling him along, and despite his resistance, he is sinking down, down into crushing depths as it fills his mouth and nose and ears, choking him until his vision goes dark.
One moment he is floating in the throes of unconsciousness, and the next he is surging awake with a harsh cry, his body jerking convulsively as the feeling of panic clings to him. He lurches upright, only belatedly realizing in his panicked stupor that he is not, in fact, drowning. He is sitting, gasping, in the med bay of the Negotiator, his vision swimming. There is no blood, only the dim lights of the night cycle and an incessant rushing sound in his ears as he gulps for air. The last thing he sees before his eyes roll back is Coric, moving to him from somewhere across the dim room, alarm on his features, and then he is falling again, back into the deep, dark recesses of his unconscious.
Cody awakes, all at once, overly warm, covered in sweat and disgusted to notice the sticky dampness of his cotton shirt as it adheres t o his upper body. His eyes flutter open and he notes dully that he doesn’t feel as disoriented as he has the last few times he has awoken. He swallows roughly around the sandpaper dryness of his mouth and throat, feeling as though his tongue is made of cotton and his limbs are made from lead, only vaguely noting the IV in the back of his hand as he struggles to sit up. There is a gentle pressure on his shoulder, pushing him back down to the biobed and he turns to find Obi-Wan bending over him, a damp cloth clutched in his hand.
“General,” he rasps, wincing at the roughness of his own voice. He sinks back onto the mattress weakly and Obi-Wan reaches forward to gently press the cloth he is holding against Cody’s forehead. Cody finds himself only mildly embarrassed at the small groan of relief that escapes his throat as the coolness of the compress makes contact with his scorching skin.
“Welcome back, Commander,” Obi-Wan says softly, the corner of his mouth tilting up slightly in the dim lighting. “How are you feeling?”
Cody closes his eyes for a moment in assessment and his throat clicks audibly with his next swallow. “Honestly, sir? Like I’ve been trampled by a herd of angry bantha.”
Obi-Wan does not laugh, but quiet humor sparkles in his eyes as he gently wipes Cody’s forehead and cheeks with the cool cloth, a soft hum in the back of his throat. "Your fever has finally broken," he supplies.
Cody notices, with some hope, that the entire med bay is nearly empty now, the only filled beds are occupied by himself and several shinies from the 501st whose names he is unable to recall in his current state. Kit, Fives and Waxer's beds are empty, their crisp sheets made as though they have been for some time.
"How long have I been out?" Cody asks, frowning.
"It's been six days since the onset of your symptoms," Obi-Wan says, somewhat tightly. "You are through the worst of it, but it seems you came down with a particularly bad case. We were beginning to worry."
Cody lacks the energy to feel anything more than mildly surprised and merely nods in acknowledgement. Obi-Wan looks tired, ragged in such a way that Cody has not seen in some time. He says as much before he can stop the words from slipping off his tongue.
Obi-Wan huffs a gentle laugh and runs his fingers through his slightly unkempt hair, attempting to push it back into place. “Getting the approval to push the vaccine through took some doing,” he says, finally. "But with Kit and Coric's help - and obstinacy - we managed. The first doses should begin arriving within the next four days."
Cody nods with a deep exhale, his relief palpable, and Obi-Wan smiles in concurrence, though it is slightly overshadowed by the crease in his brow.
"Have you slept at all, sir?" Cody asks, pushing as much rebuke as he can manage into his tone. He thinks he already knows the answer to that question.
"I have slept," Obi-Wan reassures him with a wry smile.
"In the chair?" Cody challenges.
"Ah. Saw that, did you?" Obi-Wan has the grace to look sheepish, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck as it always does when he is facing a scolding.
"Sir," Cody sighs pointedly. "I also saw you walking around doing some force healing, which I know for a fact is exhausting."
"Ah, well," Obi-Wan shrugs. "I do what I can."
Cody levels him with a withering look.
"Cody, you and our men are very dear to me," Obi-Wan says earnestly. "If I can help in any way, even if it's just as simple as soothing your aches or easing you into sleep, I will."
Cody considers this for a moment. He knows that he would do the same - anything , really - to ease the suffering of his men if it were ever in his power.
A beat of silence passes. "Cody, you were..." Obi-Wan hesitates, taking a breath. "You were quite unreachable for a time. Even through the force, I had a difficult time grounding you. Despite our combined efforts, Coric and I struggled to bring down your fever for several days. We were beginning to fear that you would not recover."
Cody frowns, again taking in the crinkle of Obi-Wan's forehead, the slight downturn of the corners of his mouth, the tension in his shoulders, and reaches out to place a hand over the Jedi's. "I felt you there, sir," he admits softly. "Your presence, that is. Even in the throes of my nightmares, you were there, something I could work toward."
Obi-Wan huffs a self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head so that his fringe falls forward into his eyes and he has to push it back again.
Cody clears his throat, feeling awkward in the silence, and decides to change the subject. "How is Kit doing? Fives and Waxer?"
"Well," Obi-Wan starts, eyes crinkling around the corners. "Coric has released Kit, but with the understanding that he is confined to his quarters on bed-rest, with the exception of helping put together a case for the vaccine to present to the Council. He, perhaps smartly, left Longshot in charge of seeing that our Chief Medical Officer stays in bed. I am sure you can imagine how well he took to that."
Cody snorts lightly, eyes fluttering closed. He'd pay good credits to see that happen.
"Waxer was discharged two days ago, into Boil's diligent care. Fives shortly after, with Echo's support."
Cody hums in approval. "And Coric?" he asks, remembering the tension in the medic's face as he hovered about.
Obi-Wan gestures to the far end of the room and when Cody follows his gaze he can see Coric slumped over his desk, atop several stacks of data pads and flimsi, his mouth open slightly and shoulders rising and falling with the slow breathing indicative of one in deep sleep. There is a blanket laid over his shoulders and Cody looks back to Obi-Wan with an eyebrow raised questioningly.
“He’s been fussing over everyone all tenday,” Obi-Wan says with a mixture of warmth and exasperation, shrugging. “By the time I actually managed to get him to sit down, he didn’t even require a Force suggestion to drop right off into sleep. I am not quite sure how he was even still on his feet, to be honest.”
“Remind me to give that stubborn idiot some leave next time we return to Coruscant,” Cody says fondly.
Obi-Wan merely chuckles, warmth and relief in his eyes.
Nearly a week later, Cody steps onto the bridge of The Negotiator for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He takes a deep breath, relishing the feeling of being back at the heart of things as he allows his eyes to scan over the bridge and its crew. Though he is still recovering his strength, he feels more rested than he has in a long while, likely due to his forced sojourn in the med bay, and then being confined to his quarters for several days afterward.
Thanks to the intervention of the Jedi, the vaccine had arrived as expected, and within the first week nearly two thirds of the combined numbers from the 212th and the 501st had been given their dose, with more incoming. Several new cases had popped up in the interim, of course, but Kit, whose indomitable presence had swept the med bay upon his return, had assured the chain of command that the cases were not as severe. They were also trending downward as the number of vaccinated troopers rose. Cody could not stop his lips from twitching at the thought of the CMO and Coric, together once again, wreaking terror on any unfortunate soul that had fallen to their not-so-tender mercies.
The cruiser had suddenly felt more alive, fuller than it had in some time, the easiness returning to the corridors and the mess along with the troopers themselves. Things felt more relaxed than they had in the last two weeks and Cody liked to think that it was due to the forced, although necessary, weeks of downtime during the mandatory quarantine of both battalions. Perhaps, he mused, this was the universe's way of telling them they needed a break, although the whole outbreak issue was probably overdoing it a bit, Cody thought with a small shake of his head.
"Welcome back, Commander," a warm voice says from behind him, and he turns to find Obi-Wan stepping through the door to the bridge. The Jedi rests a hand on his shoulder in greeting as he passes to stand on the opposite side of the table.
"Thank you, sir. It's good to be back," Cody says sincerely. "Shall we get to work?"
Obi-Wan smiles easily at him from across the holotable, and all is suddenly right in Cody's world again.