Hey, remember waaay back when I said this story is AU? Good. 'Cause it's gonna be really obvious in a moment. ;) Also, this chapter briefly references events from my one-shot, Not Fooling Anyone.
Lyrics: "Heart and Soul," by John Brown's Body, from Pressure Points.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Does anyone here know what it means to be a family?
Can anyone here look around them and see people that they love?
Yet we feel hunted,
Some of us unwanted.
They don't know, they don't know,
Heart and soul.
Meanwhile...
Rex pressed his gloved hand against the tank and watched his brother within. Thanks to the sedatives one of Fox's medics had administered, Fives' face was peaceful, but Rex could discern the faint lines around his eyes and mouth. Those were new.
"The entry code has been set." Commander Fox's voice broke the too-quiet of the Corrie Guard medbay; the commander's familiar, steady tread set Rex a little more at ease. "Only you, me, and Verve have clearance to enter. How is he?"
"Stable." Rex did not tear his eyes from his vod as Fox came to stand at his side, and for a moment they both watched the ARC trooper floating amidst the pale blue liquid.
At last Fox sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Rex, I'm–"
"You didn't–"
"I did," Fox broke in, shaking his head. "He's here because of me."
Ever since Ringo Vinda – hell, ever since Umbara – Rex's armor had felt heavier than normal. His shoulders sagged. "He pulled a weapon on you. You had every right to defend yourself. I'm just thankful your blaster was set to stun."
"He was acting erratically; I couldn't have killed him in good conscience." Fox's voice hardened. "But I could have done something else. I could have–"
Rex placed a hand on the commander's shoulder. "With respect, sir, that kind of thinking will drive you to a very dark place."
Fox's eyes dropped to the gleaming medbay floor and his hands tightened into fists at his sides. "I don't want to lose another brother."
Kriff, Rex knew the feeling. Sometimes, when he couldn't sleep, he would lie awake in his bunk and whisper their names in the darkness. Over the long years of the Wars, the number of names had grown exponentially, until one night he realized he knew more men who'd died than men who still lived.
He looked back at Fives. How much the man had aged in such a short time. They all had, but Fives had always seemed to carry it better than most. Even after Echo.
But no longer.
"Verve says he's only authorized to keep Fives for one rotation," Fox continued. "His injuries don't warrant anything more, and we are watched very closely here. Word is that everything is recorded for posterity." His voice was steady, if grimly amused. "What will happen when he's released?"
Rex's stomach twisted. "General Skywalker received the request from the Chancellor himself. He wants Fives confined to a detention cell, but..."
The words died in his throat and he could hardly form the accompanying thought. The Chancellor, part of some conspiracy to destroy the Jedi? Using the clone army, somehow? The idea was laughable; had he heard one of the shinies spouting such garbage, he'd have made the fellow scrub the Resolute, stem to stern – with a shabla toothbrush.
But...
Could it be true? The Chancellor was the highest authority in the Republic, but the way Fives had spoken in the warehouse made Rex think...
"What he said about the Chancellor," Fox's voice was barely a whisper, "do you think it's true?"
Suddenly his armor was three sizes too tight and Rex could not take a proper breath. This was a dangerous conversation to have here. To have anywhere. He pulled his hand back from the glass. "All I know is Fives isn't safe here."
Whatever was going on with his vod was larger than he – maybe anyone – understood. This feeling, he trusted, for it came from that place within his gut that had saved his shebs a hundred times over on the battlefield.
"Then where?" Fox asked.
"I don't know." Rex tried to keep his voice calm, like Fox, but it sounded hoarse and bitter. Could any clone ever be truly safe? What did safety mean for men who were bred to be expendable?
Just then, Fox's wrist-comm chimed. The commander stepped away from the bacta tank and Rex looked at Fives' peaceful form once more. Kriff, he could still remember Fives as a shiny, so fresh off Kamino he smelled of the sea. Now he was an ARC trooper. But where Rex would have normally felt a keen sense of pride, there was only a hollow echo of uncertainty. It wasn't right.
It wasn't fair.
"But he's dead," Fox said suddenly, loud enough to make Rex turn. "How the fek can he be in my office?" Fox sighed deeply and rubbed his jaw. "Never mind. I'll come see what this is all about. I'm in Medbay Forn, so it'll take a minute."
"Trouble, sir?" Rex asked as Fox shut off his wrist-comm.
"I hardly know any more." The commander sighed again and nodded at the door. "Feel like coming along?"
Rex cast a look at Fives, but Fox shook his head. "He'll be fine for now, Rex, but I'd like you around for this."
It wasn't an order, not exactly, but neither was it a request. Fox could be tactful that way. Rex agreed and they headed for the exit.
"Did you ever meet Captain Stonewall, of Shadow Squad?" Fox asked after a moment. "One of Cody's men?"
"Meet him? Shab, Shadow's weapons expert came from Torrent," Rex said as they headed out of the medbay. He searched his memory; so much had happened lately, it was difficult to keep track of all but a few men not in his immediate vicinity. "I heard he was sent to Kamino, but I don't know why."
"Apparently, it's classified," Fox replied darkly. "And in any case, it doesn't matter. Captain Stonewall's dead."
Rex halted right outside the medbay. His stomach sank with that familiar, uncomfortable weight that always came with the knowledge of another fallen brother. "Dead?"
"Or at least," Fox added, urging Rex along, "he's listed as 'deceased.'"
"Not much room for interpretation," Rex said carefully. "So...what's got your kama in a twist? Sir," he added as Fox shot him a look.
They reached a turbolift and stepped inside. Fox punched in the code and exhaled as the 'lift began to move. "Apparently he's here. He wants to speak with me."
"Stonewall?"
"The same."
Rex frowned at the numbers on the 'lift's control panel. "How the fek is that possible?"
A cool chime sounded above their heads as the 'lift paused, and Fox slanted Rex a lifted brow. "My thoughts, exactly."
It was Stonewall, all right, and he wasn't alone.
As Rex and Fox entered the commander's office, the two clones in gray-splashed armor snapped to attention, helmets tucked neatly beneath the crooks of their arms, eyes ahead. Stonewall stood at parade-rest a pace in front of them; though he, too, wore full kit, there was something different about him – and it had nothing to do with his lack of weapons.
The feeling was magnified when Stonewall's eyes fell upon Rex, widened, and looked away. The pressure in the small room seemed to change. The air thickened and it became slightly more difficult to breathe for a split second before the feeling faded.
When Fox took a seat at his desk, Rex standing by his right shoulder, Stonewall saluted. "Thank you for meeting me, Commander. Rex," he added, a little quieter. "It's good to see you again."
"The last time I saw you," Fox said, crossing his arms and giving the captain a once-over, "was as my men were dragging you aboard a shuttle bound for Kamino. Two and a half months later, you show up in my office. Care to fill in the gaps, Captain?"
Stonewall hesitated before offering a less-than-suitable reply. "It's a long story, sir."
Had he been one of Rex's men the non-answer wouldn't have passed muster. Fox seemed to be of the same mind. "You're going to have to do better than that."
Nodding, Stonewall gestured to the clones behind him. "Yes, sir. But before I go into it, I'd like to introduce some hopeful transfers. Bonnets off, vode."
At the command, both clones removed their buckets and tucked them in the crook of their arms. In the manner of shinies, their form was perfect. Oddly, though, both men looked Fox's age, maybe a few months older.
"Ward," Stonewall said, pointing to one clone, who saluted. "And Halligan," he added with a nod to the other fellow, who was bald. "They're a bit rough around the edges, but they're good men. I can vouch for that."
Only through years of working closely with Jedi was Rex able to keep his bafflement from showing on his face. Fox, too, managed to maintain a stoic expression, though he had to be surprised as haran at this development.
This was confirmed when it took the Corrie Guard commander a few seconds too long to formulate a response. "Transfers? On whose orders?"
Stonewall shook his head. "No one's, sir. Ward and Hal requested to be assigned to the Guard, and General Halcyon," he paused and said, deliberately, "rather, Kali and I thought they'd be a good fit."
It was no secret among the ranks that Stonewall had harbored a long-time attraction to his Jedi general. Such rumors were common for clones who served under female – or sometimes male – Jedi; much the same thing was said of Bly, Gree, and Rex himself, for that matter. A few daring souls said so of Cody and General Kenobi.
It was also no secret that General Halcyon had a rather unorthodox leadership style. Rex had worked with the dark-haired woman enough to know that she preferred to be addressed by her name, not her rank.
But none of that factored into Rex's surprise, nor did the fact that Stonewall referred to her by her nickname. It was the way he said it that caused consternation. The inflection went beyond informal. It was downright...intimate.
Fox glanced between the men for a moment before looking back at Shadow Squad's captain. "And what makes you and your general think these two will be a good fit?"
Rather than reply, Stonewall looked at the hopeful transfers; both men's spines straightened and the bald fellow – Halligan – said, "Sir, we served as the sole guards for Sector Nine, of Timira City. Sir."
"For how long?" Fox asked.
"Since graduation, sir," Ward replied. "Going on thirteen years."
"Have you been involved in any campaigns?"
Both men hesitated before Halligan replied. "No, sir. Until a few months ago, neither of us had left Kamino."
"But there were skirmishes on Kamino," Rex heard himself say. "Surely you took part in those?"
Halligan shook his head. "Timira City was not threatened, sir."
"Sector Nine wasn't much of a target for the Seppies," Ward added wryly.
Rex didn't bother to hide his frown. What the fek was Sector Nine? He'd grown up on the storm world and had never heard of such a place.
Fox seemed to have the same thought, for he regarded Stonewall once more. "I'm assuming you met them on Kamino?"
"Yes, sir."
The commander's gaze turned piercing. "Now would be a good time for that long story, Captain."
Stonewall met Fox's gaze with a calm that Rex had not seen among any clone before. It was almost Jedi-calm. "Sector Nine is where defective clones are sent. It's where I was sent, and Milo, though there's nothing defective about him."
"Defective clones are processed," Fox said, narrowing his eyes. "They're not sent anywhere, except to their deaths."
"Not all of them are processed," Stonewall replied. "A small fraction are sent – were sent, I suppose – to Sector Nine. They..." He paused and, to Rex's surprise, gave a visible shudder. "The clones who were sent there were...studied by a Kaminoan named Creon Dai."
From there, he launched into one of the most horrific descriptions Rex had ever heard. The Dregs, where men were dissected and studied before they were discarded. No chance of dying in battle, cleanly, with a blaster bolt through your skull. No vode to carry you through the shadows and savor the light. No hope. Nothing.
Fek. Rex shuddered, too.
When Stonewall finished, he placed a hand on Ward's armored shoulder. "They may not be on par with the rest of your men yet, Commander, but I guarantee that, after what these two have witnessed, you'll find no one more determined to start fresh. They just need a chance."
Fox's expression had darkened throughout Stonewall's story. He did not answer for several long moments, only stared at Stonewall as if trying to see through his armor. At last he said, "Very well, Captain. Their transfer is accepted."
Stonewall exhaled. "Thank you, sir."
Nodding, Fox looked at the newbies. "I'll draw up the orders in a moment. For now, head down to Medbay Besh and have my chief medic, Verve, look you over. When I'm done here, I'll come by and get you sorted out. Dismissed."
Both men saluted and stepped for the door, though they each cast a last look at Stonewall. Ward's mouth opened but the captain shook his head once. "It's all right, vode. I know."
Halligan's lips twitched in a smile. "You do, don't you?"
Fox cleared his throat, and both clones hurried out the door. Once it slid shut, the commander cast another long look at Stonewall. "I hardly know where to begin."
"I do," Stonewall replied, lifting his chin. "But you might not believe me."
"I'll take that chance." Fox nodded to the chairs across from his desk; Stonewall and Rex each took a seat, and Shadow Squad's captain considered his bucket, resting in his lap, before he began to speak.
"It's no secret that I love a Jedi," he said quietly. "As much as I – as we – tried to keep it so."
Fox frowned, but Rex nodded. "You've always had a thing for her."
"It's not a 'thing,' Rex. I love her. And," he swallowed, "she loves me, too."
This, Rex had not expected. He shot a look at Fox, whose brows had hit his hairline. "But Jedi..." The commander's words trailed off.
"Jedi are mortal," Stonewall said. "As are we. And as many kinds of vode are out there, well, there are many kinds of Jedi, too. But you know that."
This was said with a deliberate look at Rex; a chill moved through his entire body, like the temp-controls of his suit were malfunctioning. Yes, he knew Jedi. Too well, almost. They were fallible. They fekked up and got scared. They loved. Skywalker hadn't been the same since Ahsoka had left, and if he were honest, Rex hadn't, either. Force willing, she'd land on her feet and make her own way.
So he nodded to Stonewall again, and the captain continued. "Anyway, after she and I fell in love, something...changed, within me. I don't know how it happened. Only when."
"What are you talking about?" Fox asked, brows knit.
Rather than answer, Stonewall rested his hands on the chair's armrests and regarded his helmet again, only this time, Rex recognized the distant expression that fell upon the other captain's face. The pressure in Fox's small office changed again; the air grew heavy and full, and there was a faint ringing in his ears.
Of its own volition, Stonewall's bucket lifted and began to spin lazily about a meter above the three clones' heads.
"Kriffing hell," Fox breathed. "What the fek...?"
It was an effort for Rex to tear his eyes away from the helmet, but he managed to meet Stonewall's steady gaze. He shoved the impossibility of the entire thing to the side and cut straight to the facts. "You're Force-sensitive."
"Yeah."
"How long?"
"About eight months."
Fox shook his head again, as if trying to clear it. "Who else knows?"
"At first, no one but Kali." The helmet lowered back to his lap and Stonewall dropped his eyes. "Not even my men. But the wrong person must have found out, somehow."
It was a slippery slope to keep such things from your vode, but officers seldom had the luxury of confiding in their subordinates. Would I have told anyone? Rex couldn't say. The entire notion of being Force-sensitive was too foreign to wrap his mind around. "This is why you were sent to Kamino."
"Yes." Stonewall took a deep breath and added, "It's why I was reconditioned."
Both Rex and Fox looked up sharply at this, and the commander leaned forward, eyes fixed on Stonewall's face. "Explain."
It took Stonewall the better part of an hour to tell his story, and answer what questions he could. During this time, Rex found himself torn between rational disbelief, pity, and revulsion. The latter especially so, when Stonewall mentioned his involvement in the Passel Argente debacle.
"That was you?" Rex ground out the words between his clenched jaws.
Stonewall nodded.
Rex swore and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. Fek, he was tired. He could not remember the last time he'd had a decent night's rest, and there was no sign he'd have one any time soon. "That op took weeks to plan. Two of my men died! Pliny's still recovering from the karking blast. Kriffing hell, Stonewall–"
"It wasn't his call, vod," Fox broke in. "He was following orders. He was reconditioned, for kriff's sake."
"We're more than the sum of our orders," Rex shot back, sitting upright in his chair. "I don't know how you run your operation here, Commander, but all of my men are always held accountable for their actions."
"Even Umbara?" Fox replied.
Rex gritted his teeth. "Don't you dare. This isn't remotely the same thing."
"It's exactly the same thing," Fox said calmly.
Rex scowled. Cody got the exact same shabla tone when he thought he was right. Fragging commanders.
"We're engineered to follow orders," Fox went on. "All the experience in the galaxy can't contradict a lifetime of conditioning, especially when that's all a man has." He looked back at Stonewall, who'd seemed to shrink in his chair. "But you're...whole, now?"
Stonewall nodded. "I was able to use the Force to help retain my memories. It's a bit," he frowned, "complicated to explain."
Fury coursed through Rex's veins such that he hardly heard the other captain's words beneath the thunder of his pulse. Clones hurting clones; clones hurting the Republic they were sworn to defend. It all tied in too well with what Fives had raved about. The entire fekking galaxy was unraveling at the seams and he was trying to grab at loose threads. He took a deep breath, but his chest was tight.
"Rex, I did question the orders," Stonewall said after a moment. "But I did it too late. I'm sorry."
What the fek could he say to that? Nothing, not without exploding. The worst part was that Fox was right; Rex had seen reconditioned men too. They weren't normal. Reconditioning was not permanent, but most of them didn't live long enough to learn what it was to be normal; they died disoriented. Force-abilities notwithstanding, the fact that Stonewall had come back to himself from such a fate was nothing short of miraculous.
But Rex had swallowed about as much bizarre osik as he could take for the moment, so he pretended to find the corner of Fox's desk fascinating.
After a moment, Fox cleared his throat. "Have you spoken to Cody? He'll want to know you're alive."
"I saw him at the Temple." Stonewall paused. "He's aware of my...status."
"What is your status?" Rex heard himself ask.
"Officially...I'm dead," Stonewall replied. "My men have been decommissioned. None of us are in the GAR any longer."
Fox's chair creaked as he leaned back, rolling his neck and shoulders. "It says something about this whole mess that I'm not surprised to hear such a thing." He rested his elbows on the desk and regarded Stonewall again. "What will you do now? Where is your general?"
"At the Temple, saying her goodbyes."
Rex closed his eyes. Another Jedi gone. "They kicked her out."
"That's actually up for debate," Stonewall said, a trace of wryness in the words. "She's taking up with the Altisians. I'm thinking of joining her."
Of course you are, Rex thought darkly. There was a kriffing war on, but Stonewall saw fit to traipse around the galaxy, sniffing after a pretty Jedi fem.
But he shook away the bitter thought as quickly as it'd come. Love. He knew something of love, and the lengths it would drive a person. He was too tired for introspection now, but he thought if he searched within, he'd find something akin to understanding.
So he nodded slowly. "What of your men?"
"They've been working with Misfit Squad," Stonewall replied, smiling faintly. "And helping to outfit the new clone rehab center on Aruna."
As before, a chill passed through Rex, but this was not the foreboding kind. Rather, it was as if the galaxy had tapped his shoulder and signaled the direction he needed to go. The rehabilitation centers. Of course. Suddenly he was a lot less ticked off at Stonewall. He exchanged a look with Fox, who gave a tiny nod.
Fox stood up, causing both Rex and Stonewall to rise as well. "Well, it seems I've got some new recruits to get settled in. Thank you for your time, Captain. I would see you out, but I'm afraid I'll be tied up in Medbay Besh for the next several hours, at least."
This was said to Rex, who caught the meaning at once. "Understood, sir."
Fox nodded and came around the desk to shake Stonewall's hand. "Good luck to you, Captain. Or, I suppose, former Captain."
"Thank you, sir," Stonewall replied. "And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for any trouble me or my men caused you...that day."
Fox shook his head. "Forgiven, Stonewall. We heal quickly. Stay safe out there."
"You as well, sir."
After parting ways with Fox, Rex shot a glance at Stonewall. "You busy?"
"Not at the moment."
"Your Jedi doesn't need you?" Rex couldn't help but add.
But Stonewall only shrugged. "She's sorting out a few things on her own. Besides," he winced, "I'd rather not revisit the shabla Temple any time soon."
"Can't say I blame you." The Jedi Temple was unsettling in many ways, not the least of which was the kriffing quiet that somehow went beyond any lack of noise. Rex did not belong there, that much was certain; in the past, when he'd accompanied Skywalker or Ahsoka in the halls, each boot step on the marbled floors had seemed too loud.
He thumbed towards the turbolifts. "Come on. I want to show you something."
Stonewall agreed and they made their way to the 'lift. There were few other clones about right now; it was that odd time between duty rotations when most men were either training or getting some much needed R and R. Once the doors closed, Rex entered the level for Medbay Forn and the 'lift began to move.
Neither he nor Stonewall spoke for a moment until Rex glanced at the former captain. "Are your men on Aruna?"
"Trax and Weave remained behind. Crest and Milo came with us."
Despite everything, Rex felt a half-smile creep to his face. "How is Traxis?"
"Stubborn and belligerent."
"So, same as ever?"
"Very much," Stonewall said with a chuckle. "But he's a good vod."
Trax hadn't been under Rex's command in a long time, but they were bound by more than Torrent Company. He nodded and watched the numbers on the 'lift panel stream by. "I'm glad to hear he's still kicking," he said after a beat. "Too many brothers have fallen."
Stonewall ducked his head. "I know."
"Then," Rex went on, "there are those men who are on the brink of falling. One wrong step, or one push, and they'll be lost, too."
"What are you getting at?"
Rex was silent. The 'lift dinged and he slanted Stonewall a knowing look before stepping into the corridor. Neither man spoke as Rex led the way through the halls, until they reached Medbay Forn. It was one of the smaller medbays, generally only used for men who needed to be quarantined. Other than Fox's medic, no other Guard member had clearance to enter the room. It was for the best. The less people who knew Fives was here, the better.
Once Rex punched in the code, the door slid open and Stonewall's breath caught. Frowning, Rex glanced over at the former captain. "What is it?"
But Stonewall ignored him and hurried toward the room's only occupied bacta tank. After ensuring the door was locked behind them, Rex followed. Nothing had changed. The former captain studied the clone within the blue liquid; again, his expression took on that eerie, distant look, like his mind was light years away.
A dozen times, Rex opened his mouth to ask what the kriff Stonewall was doing, but the other man's expression reminded him of a Jedi doing their Jedi-thing, so he kept his questions behind his teeth. Best not disturb a Force-user. That, like so much instinct, was ingrained within his cells.
At last Stonewall exhaled and shook his head slowly, as if trying to clear it. "Who is he?"
"An ARC trooper named Fives."
"One of yours?"
"He started that way." Rex put his hand to the glass; had he been able to reach through the tank, Fives' fingers would have been close enough to touch. "I knew him when he was a shiny."
"What's his damage?"
Rex clenched his hand but kept it pressed against the glass. He leaned close enough for his breath to mar the gleaming surface. "Minimal. He took a stun bolt to the chest, and there are some strange toxins in his blood. He should be back to rights within a few hours."
"He's terrified." Stonewall's next words were quiet. "So are you."
"He's not safe here," Rex replied, equally as quiet.
"Why?"
The words still wouldn't come. Cold swam through Rex's veins, filling him from the inside out with chilling fear. "You have to take him with you."
Stonewall had been regarding Fives; at this, his head swiveled to face Rex. "Are–"
"Now," Rex broke in. "It has to be now. He can't wait another moment. It's not safe for him here. I don't know if it's safe for any of us."
He pulled his hand back and stepped to the tank's controls. He was no medic, but he'd watched Coric and Kix bring enough men out of bacta to manage it on his own. As the bacta began to drain into the reservoir, he glanced at Stonewall again. "It's too much for me to explain right now. You'll have to get it out of him, somehow. If you can get anything coherent out of him. Di'kut's been rambling–"
The words broke off as his throat tightened, and he bit his tongue to keep back the burning behind his eyes. Blinking fast, Rex turned back to the control panel. Within a few minutes, the bacta had drained and the tank's sides were lowering, too slowly for Rex's liking, and he could not help but shoot hasty glances over his shoulder for fear of the Chancellor himself striding through the medbay door.
Throughout all of this, Stonewall was silent. When the tank's sides had vanished into the base, both men worked at the straps around the ARC trooper, careful to support Fives so he wouldn't stagger once the harness was gone. Surely it was Rex's imagination, but his brother felt lighter than before. Perhaps it was the lack of armor – or any sort of clothing.
"This is bigger," Fives groaned, head lolling onto Rex's shoulder. "The mission...the nightmare. Vod, I only wanted–"
"Ku'ur," Rex hissed as he gripped his brother close. "Be quiet, vod. You're going to be okay. I promise. Just stay calm."
But Fives was an ARC trooper, and even in this weakened state he was a force to be reckoned with. One wrench of his body and he was free of both Rex and Stonewall's grasps, staggering for the door. Swearing, Rex lunged for his brother, snatching him back while ducking to avoid a glancing blow. Fekking hell, man, he thought, gritting his teeth. I'm on your side.
Before Rex could pull a sedative from his medkit, Stonewall placed his hand on Fives' shoulder, and said, calmly and clearly, "You heard your captain, vod. Stay calm."
It was as if someone had flipped a switch. Fives relaxed into Rex's arms, quickly enough that Rex nearly dropped him to the gleaming floor out of surprise. Only by virtue of his well-honed instincts did he catch the ARC trooper; Stonewall was at his side a beat later, and together they got Fives away from the tank and steered him to a nearby biobed. It took both Rex and Stonewall a few minutes to locate a spare set of fatigues and dress the ARC trooper, who lay upon the bed, face slack with sleep.
At last Fives was clothed. Rex braced his palms against the biobed and looked at Stonewall. "You have to take him with you," he said again. "I can make it an order."
Stonewall did not pull his gaze from Fives' sleeping form. "I'm not in the GAR, Rex. You can't order me to do anything."
"His life depends on it. Don't you understand?"
"No," Stonewall said, frowning. "I don't. But I–"
Rex's jaw tightened as adrenaline danced wildly through his veins. "You owe me," he heard himself growl. "After Argente. After what you did to my men... Fives was one of those men. You owe both of us."
Stonewall's eyes widened and he drew himself up for one moment, fists clenching, and Rex almost welcomed the prospect of a fight...
But then Stonewall's body relaxed and his shoulders sank. "I do owe you," he said quietly. "I was trying to say that I don't have to understand exactly what's happening to Fives right now. I understand enough. A brother needs my help." His face smoothed and he placed a hand on Rex's shoulder. "I'll keep him safe."
The adrenaline in Rex's system evaporated, leaving him cold and dull, and he leaned his weight on Fives' biobed. "Thank you."
Rex lost another brother that day, but not to death. After gathering Fives' kit, Stonewall used some Force-trick to shield both himself and Fives, allowing them to slip out of the Guard barracks undetected; it was a trick Rex had seen General Halcyon perform before, what felt like a lifetime ago. He was too exhausted to be in awe.
Just like that, Fives was gone. But safe. Rex watched the empty air at the entrance to the Guard barracks and savored that one less weight upon his heart.
In the grand symphony of the galaxy, one clone's life wasn't even a note. But to Rex, it was a song worth singing.
A/N: One of the best parts of writing an AU fic is "fixing" stuff like Fives' story. When I saw Season Six, I knew I had to find a way to tie his arc into Fearless.
Additionally, I hadn't planned on this being an entire Rex chapter, but he was rather insistent, and I couldn't refuse. ;) Rather than try to tie in his arc in Fearless with his arc in my Rex duology, (which I do consider part of my fanon), I tried to leave it kind of vague. I don't 'ship him and Ahsoka, but you can read that into the text if you choose.
FYI, Traxis was part of the original assault team for the Battle of Teth. His experience there is featured in my vignette collection, Born To Die.
