"Yep, it's definitely infected."

Rex resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Kix's gentle hands cleaned the wound on his temple.

"Why didn't you come to me earlier?"

In other words, "Why did you let it get this bad?"

"Why did you do this to yourself?"

"Well, there wasn't exactly time for it earlier."

What Rex wouldn't have given to be sitting under Coric's easy going gaze instead of Kix's scrutinizing one. But the other medic had been unavailable.

How convenient.

Kix grunted as he reached for a batca patch. "Still, you've sentenced yourself to a longer healing period. That means more visits to the medbay. And that means more answering to me."

Rex pursed his lips. So be it.

As long as Kix wasn't asking questions, he was fine.

"I can deal with that."

Kix barked a laugh. "Sure. You can now. Just wait until you're on day four of having to listen to me complain about how poorly you take care of yourself."

"Or you could keep the griping to yourself and I won't go to Coric instead."

"Coric has to answer to me, don't forget."

"And you have to answer to me. Or did you forget?"

And if it wasn't such a childish gesture, Rex knew the medic would've stuck out his tongue.

"Honestly, Rex," Kix said after a moment, voice adopting a more sober tone, "there's only so much I can give you for the infection. You're still going to feel the effects until the batca starts working."

"That's fine," Rex said as he rose from his chair. I deserve it.

It was just one more reminder of his failure. He'd failed his brothers, he'd failed Dogma…

Failed General Skywalker because he couldn't take good care of his men while he was away.

Failed Kix, who only ever wanted to save his brothers.

I should've listened to Fives from the start.

Why don't I ever listen?

As he reached out to palm the door open, Kix's voice froze him in his tracks.

"I don't recall officially concluding your examination."

Kriff.

"What else is there to check out?" Rex challenged, keeping his gaze fixed on the door.

"Rex…" He heard Kix sigh. "Look, I think we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about. What happened down there happened. Now it's over. Let's all just forget about it, all right?"

"You really believe we can all just forget?" Another sigh filled the air, a sign that Kix was trying to rein in his irritated passion. "Okay, you don't want to talk right now. At least let me talk."

Glancing back, Rex felt an exhaustion unlike any he'd experienced on Umbara wash over him. "Kix…"

"No, just… You need to let me say this. Rex, what I said back there. I didn't mean it. I was stressed. Well, you know better than any of us." And what was that supposed to mean…? "I spoke out of anger and…" Kix swallowed. "And fear. And I'm sorry, Rex, if I hurt you."

Kix didn't have to repeat the harsh words uttered that dark day. Rex already knew; already remembered.

"You sound just like General Krell!"

Rex forced back the wince that threatened to contort his already tight features. "It's fine."

"No, it's not, and I should never have—"

"Told me the truth?" Rex shook his head. "At least someone did. I just didn't listen. I'm sorry, Kix."

And before the medic could get another word in, Rex palmed the door and made his swift escape from the medbay.

If he walked down the hall fast enough, no one would stop him. No one would think to talk to him.

To apologize like Kix had.

I'm the one who should be apologizing. Me.

Not them.

As he reached the safety of his captain's quarters at last, another thought struck Rex.

When they arrived on Coruscant, he would have to explain his failures to General Skywalker. He would have to give an account of every time he let Krell walk all over the 501st, for every time he didn't listen to Fives when it mattered.

For every trooper killed in action because of his compliance.

Rex shivered as the door slid shut behind him, plunging the room into a welcome void of black.

He'll understand, won't he?

Of course… He'll understand how you got nearly half of his legion killed because you couldn't see anything beyond Krell's protocol.

I'm sure he'll understand just fine…

Kix had dismissed Rex from the medbay not fifteen minutes ago, and still, Cody felt as though he was running behind. His vod'ika needed him badly, and those few minutes were ones he knew he would never get back.

So, he did the one thing he reserved only for ship emergencies.

Cody ran.

He ran until he reached the small captain's quarters where he desperately hoped Rex was waiting for him.

Like I told him to, blast it.

Only a moment would pass before Cody discovered if Rex had even listened to his instructions.

He didn't seem like he was listening to much of anything down there.

But they were in hyperspace now, speeding further and further away from Umbara with each passing second.

You're going to be okay, Rex, Cody silently urged his brother and he punched in the keycode. I promise.

The room was dark when he entered, but that didn't stop his eyes from immediately locating his brother.

Rex was passed out on the edge of his bunk, fully armored. The steady way his chest rose and fell reassured Cody's initial knee-jerk reaction that something might be wrong.

But something is wrong, isn't it?

Cody swallowed as he closed the door.

And I seem to be the only one who can fix it.

Like always.

Well, so much for talking.

There was no way in Corellian Hell that Cody was going to wake up his brother. If he'd fallen asleep that quickly, he definitely needed it.

And much more, but that will have to wait.

And wait, Cody did. What else was there to do? He couldn't leave, Rex might need him.

Reports! He still had his report to write. Wouldn't that be a trip…

But it had to be done.

As he took one more look at his younger brother before dedicating himself to his datapad for the next hour or so, he didn't envy the captain the report he'd have to write when he awoke.

Cody shivered at the thought as he sat down at the small desk. A mind at work was a mind at rest—rest from wayward thoughts and awful memories. So, the commander wasted no time in getting to his report.

No more than fifteen minutes had passed when Cody heard a moan echo through the room.

He sat up, not realizing until that moment that he'd sunk into a deep slouch. And he listened, his gaze never leaving Rex for a second.

Nothing.

The captain merely shifted in his sleep.

After a few minutes, Cody tore his eyes away from his brother and glued them back to his screen.

Another moan had him jolting upright again, and Rex's next words had him sliding out from the clutches of the desk and kneeling at his brother's bedside.

"Sir, please…"

"Rex?"

The captain shifted again, jerking away from Cody's light touch. "Reconsider…"

They were the ramblings of a poor soul caught in a nightmare, and Cody knew his brother was notorious for his night terrors. Though Rex didn't have them very often at all, when he did—usually in the aftermath of a traumatic event—he somehow locked himself into such a dead sleep that it was nearly impossible to wake him up unless he did it himself.

"Rex!" Cody shouted, skipping all the gentle prodding he'd normally do when one of his shinies was having a nightmare. The commander gave his brother a rough shove, but that only seemed to agitate the captain even more.

"General, please—!"

"Rex! Vod, wake up!"

Another moan, louder this time. Cody grabbed his brother by the shoulder guards and gave him a firm shake.

"P-Please, s-sir…" Rex stuttered, eyelids heavy, yet fluttering. Cody wasn't sure if that was due to the shaking or the fact that his vod was waking up. "Please, reconsider…"

"Rex, what are you talking about?" Cody lightly smacked the captain on the face. "Wake up!"

"Retract… Let them…" A groan brushed past Rex's limp lips. "Let them…"

"Rex!"

"... live… Please…"

Sucking in a breath, Cody muttered a quick apology to his brother before pulling back his fist and letting loose.

At the dull sound of knuckle hitting jaw, Rex's eyes flew open…

Then his arms flew at Cody, tackling the commander to the ground.

"Rex!" Cody gasped, doing his best to fight off the captain's soldier instincts without hurting him more than he already had. "Rex! Stop, it's me!"

Realized dawned on Rex as bright as a Tatooine sunrise and swiftly backed away from his brother.

"C-Cody?"

"Are you all right?" Cody ventured cautiously. For the moment, at least?

"Yeah…" Rex replied after a long few seconds, a hand flying to the bacta patch on his temple. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Do you need anything?" Besides the obvious. "Water? Painkillers?"

Rex shook his head, and for a few moments, they both just sat there. Breathing. Studying each other.

Simply being for a calm, cool moment.

"Do you…" Cody cleared his throat. "Do you want to talk about—"

"No," Rex responded quickly.

Cody raised a brow, but he didn't press the issue.

Rex needed time, he could see that. And he wasn't going to be that kind of brother right now.

The prying, this-is-for-your-own-good brother would come later. Not now, though.

Not yet.

Even though his skin was practically on fire with the desire to help his vod'ika get through this.

Instead, the silence continued. Cody wanted so desperately to break it, but every comment he thought of seemed utterly meaningless in the grand scheme of things.

What do you say after something like Umbara?

Sure, he was outraged about it all. Of course he was. His heart was hurting, breaking for each and every brother he'd lost to that monster. For Boil, who would never stand beside his best friend again; for Waxer, who'd lost his life so needlessly. But he hadn't been under Krell's command. He'd had General Kenobi to make sense of things for him after the battle.

All Rex had was himself.

After all, who do you go to when you're the one at the top? When your general tries to lead you so far astray?

Who do you go to when you've been so horribly manipulated?

And what do you say to a friend who doesn't want to talk about it?

"Sorry about that," Rex mumbles at last, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor. "I didn't know it was you."

"Who did you think it was?"

Rex's eyes hardened instantly. "No one."

"Rex—"

"It was just a dream, Cody," the captain snapped. "Just forget about it, all right?"

"If you want me to."

"I do."

Cody nodded, tucking the scene away in his mind so he could analyze the nightmare later. Or, at least, his version of the nightmare. It was Rex who held all the defining details. Cody knew he'd only witnessed a small handful of the puzzle pieces.

"All right, then."

Silence.

And Cody hated silence.

For him, it never brought forth anything good.

Silence meant sadness; it meant mourning and loss.

To Cody, silence meant awkwardness and loneliness. It signified the end of something good, something he thought would last longer than it had.

It meant the end.

Silence stood for the things Cody realized he couldn't fix alone.

And Cody hated the silence.

"The 501st," Cody began at last, needing to fill the awful noiseless void with something, "they seem to be doing all right. For now, at least."

"They'll survive." Rex replied dully. "They have to."

"I know. They're strong. Soldiers to the end."

It was the wrong choice of words, Cody realized this too late as Rex stiffened.

"Yeah," was all the reply he received.

"Look, Rex," Cody began, sucking in a breath, "if there's ever anything you need to get off your chest—"

"I thought I made it clear I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm not asking you to. All I'm saying is, I'm here. Whenever you need me. And I'm sorry I wasn't there when…"

There was no reason to remind Rex of the hellish events he'd just suffered through.

"Eh, it's all right," Rex said with a half-hearted shrug. "I'm glad you weren't."

And what was that supposed to mean? The way his vod'ika had mumbled the words made Cody wonder if his ears were even meant to hear them.

If he didn't want me to hear, he wouldn't have said it at all.

"Rex?"

The captain's facial expression made it clear he hadn't meant for those words to be heard, and now didn't know how to explain them.

Or he doesn't want to explain them.

"Rex?" Cody tried again when his brother's lips remained pursed. He hoped that by keeping his voice calm and soothing, he might coax Rex out of his shell.

Instead, Rex heaved a sigh. "Can we… Can we just sit for now? I don't want… Well, I don't think I can talk about it—or anything—right now."

Cody found his head nodding despite himself.

"Sure. Yeah, of course, Rex."

So, they continued to sit across from each other.

And Cody endured the silence.

For Rex.

Because sometimes, silence was necessary. Sometimes there wasn't any way around it.

But that didn't mean Cody had to like it.