WARNING: I am going to write about a lot of disabilities, mental illness, abuse, and third parties being family or friends in that. These are individual characters and I am by no means using Anakin as the archetype or saying that mental disease makes you a villain.

Persons with serious mental illness are more than nine times more likely to be a victim of violent crime than those without a mental illness.

However, I'm a part of that community, as well as the disabilities and LBGT+ communities, so I am going to be weaving in a lot of my experiences with how people and parents, friends, family interact with loved ones who have these struggles.

In other words, I'm writing Anakin as I wish he was written to explain Darth Vader, though I am saving him from that fate in this fic.

Thank you, Sectumus Prince!

Chapter 4 - One Another

Omega felt insanely guilty for the fight. General Kenobi's dressing down had cut her brothers down to their bones —even Hunter and Crosshair had been cowed— though they hadn't shown it outwardly.

She didn't follow the Bad Batch, who set off for the furthest perimeter. Instead, she trailed after Rex, Jesse, and Appo.

Waxer touched her shoulder.

She looked up at him. His kindness had surprised her, and even now he didn't stop her from following the 501st officers, just let her know that they would part ways.

Waxer exchanged a long look with Appo.

Appo said, "You don't have to come with us, little one."

"I want to, though," Omega said.

"Let her come, she's small enough to carry if she gets tired," Jesse said.

She stuck her tongue out at him, which earned her a smile and a hair ruffle.

Waxer and Boil waved at her, and she waved back, before they had to hurry up to catch Rex, who had strode off in the opposite direction.

"I'm really sorry," Omega said, catching up to Rex's side.

"Don't," Rex said. "We all know how to behave and I should have anticipated everyone's reactions."

"We are the ones who are sorry, Captain," Jesse said. "It isn't as if we haven't worked with them in the past."

Rex glared at him. "Cody isn't going to forgive us anytime soon."

"Don't sweat it, Cap," Appo said flippantly. "Kenobi will calm him down, and it's the Bad Batch that Cody is going to focus his ire on. Besides, from what Kenobi said, you're not the only one who thinks part of the Senate is working against us."

Omega hadn't known that the Jedi or her brothers had been aware of the treachery of the Republic. She hadn't realized that the concept of the Republic becoming an Empire was closer to becoming reality than it should have been.

The Galaxy hung on a precipice, and while Omega was beginning to realise that she might not be able to save the Republic, she was determined to save her brothers and the Jedi. She wasn't sure how, but then, she didn't know how she had time travelled either, and she had to believe there was a reason for both.

A reason she had been given this chance.

Rex walked a few more minutes in silence before coming to an abrupt halt. He turned on Appo.

"The Council continues to give more troops to Kenobi, more ARCs to the 501st Legion, while the Senate is implementing more nat-born officers that don't have a lick of the compassion or humanity that the Jedi have. I don't care what the Bad Batch does, I don't care about what history you share, or what the Kaminoans did to us in the past. This is our future, Sergeant Appo. Either we survive, or we all die for nothing."

"Understood, Sir," Appo said, snapping a salute.

Rex let out a harsh breath and turned his back on them.

None of them talked after that, but when a few hours passed and Omega's feet began to blister in her shoes, she couldn't keep up the silence any longer.

"What's Commander Tano like?"

Appo's head turned in her direction. "She is pretty incredible. Togrutas are a predatory species and it shows."

"She has a good heart," Rex offered.

"Can the Jedi really do everything they say they can?" Omega said.

"Yes and no," Appo said. "They are incredible, but they don't have endless reserves."

She hesitated. "Did the Prime really do what General Kenobi said he did?"

Strangled five Jedi to death with his bare hands.

"Yes," Appo said.

Rex came to an abrupt stop, spinning on his heel. "You knew?"

Appo nodded. "When we were little, Boba tried to join us for a training exercise. The Longnecks were lecturing us on how we would need to be able to keep up with the Jedi. Jango stormed in, I have never seen him show so much emotion, be so pissed off. He grabbed Boba, such a wee-thing then, and shook him. Jango said, 'Never forget what they did.'"

Jesse let out a long breath. "That's why he killed Alpha-14."

"He killed one of the vode?" Omega asked, horrified.

"He injured him," Appo said. "Which led to his death. Alpha-14 was in one of the older training teams in the same room as us. He came right over to the Prime and asked, 'What did they do, Buir?'"

Rex gaped at him. "No... Was he delusional?"

Appo took off his own helmet, "No, he was desperate for Jango's attention and thought if any of us were good enough, Jango would take us away from the Kaminoans and be considered a son, too."

"Jango backhanded him," Jesse said. "Told us we belonged to the Jetiiese and that if we didn't stay away from Boba he would end us like he did them."

Omega was… She had no words for what she felt, and she couldn't help but ask, "Why did he make an army for the Jedi if he hated them so much?"

Her three brothers looked at her for a long time before Appo said, "Nothing can make up for how the Prime treated us, how he allowed us to be treated. But he was a man who lost everything and was beyond reason. Personally, I think he wanted his face to be the one the Jedi never forgot, wanted them to go to war, and by taking our help, reveal themselves to be the blood-thirsty monsters his clan was accused to be."

Omega blinked back tears, and her voice came out smaller than she wanted it to be when she said, "I'm glad we were born."

Appo knelt on one knee, so they were at eye-level, and put a hand on her shoulder. "We are more than our origins and none of us are Jango. It is our choice to trust the Jedi, it is our choice to fight for hope in a better future. Jango was a broken and selfish man who fought for vengeance. He lost sight of what it means to be part of a family, an aliit. We might be young, we might not have as many freedoms as Jango did, but we all have more than he ever did."

Omega smiled. "Because we have each other."

Appo ruffled her hair. "That's right, ner vod'ika, that's right."

Cody hadn't called ahead, he was too strung out with need to kill things.

He hit the alert bell, and when he heard no answer, he let himself in. Obi-Wan was sitting on the floor, his head bent back against the bed. His eyes were open, staring at nothing.

"General?" Cody asked.

When Kenobi didn't answer him immediately or shoo him off, Cody took the liberty of sitting down on the floor next to him. He wasn't sure how much time passed, but finally his general spoke.

"I failed him."

Cody gritted his teeth. "You didn't."

Kenobi sighed, dropping his head to look down at his hands. "He was a slave, Cody, and I bungled everything. I was too hard on him where he needed support, and too trusting where he could get away with so much. I knew he was struggling, but I didn't know how to help him. I tried to get him to turn to others for help, but he always went to Palpatine. The harder I tried to keep them apart, the more he trusted the Chancellor; the less he trusted me."

"That was not your fault," Cody insisted.

Kenobi neither agreed nor disagreed with him.

Cody couldn't leave him to his own thoughts. Kenobi's words had been harsh to the men today, and he knew Kenobi well enough to know he thought even worse of himself.

"Why did you choose him as your Padawan?"

Kenobi stayed silent for a moment before saying, "Because I cared about him. If you ask him, he'll say it was because of my Master, but it wasn't that. It was my own arrogance to think I could help him. Just as I needed a Master that could centre me in the Living Force, I thought I could help Anakin, who was so gifted with the Living Force, with the Cosmic Force. Instead, I just made him feel like he was always being misunderstood. Held back…" Kenobi sighed, "He thinks I'm not proud of him, that I don't love him."

Then he's a kriffing fool. A karking —blind— fool.

"What was your Master like?" Cody asked instead.

Obi-Wan huffed a laugh. "A lot like Anakin, but more contained, more philosophical. Qui-Gon Jinn cared more about the archives and his plants than he did wielding a lightsaber."

"And he was Dooku's apprentice?" Cody asked.

"They didn't get along well, at least they weren't close after Qui-Gon was Knighted. But they respected each other, and Dooku loved him. Perhaps he was the last person the Count ever loved." Kenobi turned his head to look at him. "Funny, isn't it? How Anakin was so much like my Master, and I s0 much like Qui-Gon's Master?"

"You're nothing like the Count," Cody protested.

Kenobi gave him a wry smile. "Come now, Commander, Dooku and I are both waging this war on two fronts. Why do you think they've kept me on the front lines? Surely you don't think the Jedi Council is willingly keeping us here?"

Cody's eyes widened. "So you knew there are people in the Senate who want to kill you."

"Dooku told me himself that the Sith were in the Senate, controlling it."

"And you believed him?"

"It wasn't the Jedi Order who paid the Kaminoans, and I do not believe it is a coincidence that Sifo-Dyas disappeared —was killed— the year your vode were born. You and us, we have the most to lose in this conflict, and that's what the Sith want. Over the last few decades the Mandalorians have torn themselves apart and have been pitted time and time again against the Jedi. I see the trap, I feel it, but I don't know how to escape it. We must continue to play or give them exactly what they want."

"If we defeat the Separatists," Cody began, "do you think we can escape the Republic?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. "No, and that's the problem. If the Republic calls a draft, we will be outnumbered. The numbers of the Core worlds outnumber us too greatly. Unless we kill Dooku and take up his cause, take the droids into our ranks and start manufacturing them ourselves."

The mere idea made Cody's insides twist.

Kenobi patted Cody's thigh. "Relax, that's not what I have planned."

"What do you have planned?"

Kenobi grimaced. "Politics."

"We're kriffed," Cody said dryly.

Kenobi winked at him. "But you knew that already, didn't you, Commander?"

"Why did Dooku fall?" Cody asked. "Why join the people who killed his Padawan if he loved him?"

Kenobi shrugged. "He lost hope. It's a lesson to the galaxy, that when you give up on morality, give into the thing you fear most, you end up in ensuring the worst. Fear is a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"You're nothing like him," Cody insisted.

"Qui-Gon didn't believe that. But he believed in Anakin, and I chose to believe in him too."

"Did you and he get into the same amount of trouble as you and Skywalker do now?"

Kenobi graced him with a real smile then. "I didn't get good at war by sitting on the sidelines. There were a number of missions that Qui-Gon and I fell into that weren't, strictly speaking, Council and Senate approved."

"I'm not even remotely surprised, Sir."

Kenobi closed his eyes and said softly, "I miss him, Cody. I miss him so very much."

Cody's heart ached for him, and he put a hand over Kenobi's in silent comfort.

They sat there and Cody suspected Kenobi would sit there all night rather than get sleep like a sane person.

"You need sleep, my general."

Kenobi opened his eyes. The look in them was mournful.

"I can't, Cody, every time I try— I don't rest."

Cody squeezed his hand and stood, dragging his worn General to his feet. "Come, I have an idea."

"Ow!" Driodbait yelped, falling to the floor in the alley between their bunks. Cutup followed with a moan of pain, facedown on the rough blankets.

Sleeping on the floor was not more comfortable than the bunks. But after going through the sonics, and slipping on a laundered pair of blacks that would regulate their temps, a cuddle pile was... necessary.

They had seen the Bad Batch approach and Fives had taken it upon himself to shoo off everyone when the officers' hackles started to rise. It hadn't been hard because all of them knew that when it came to the Alpha generations, they weren't expendable in the same way the rest of the latter generations were.

Fives had kept an eye on the upper officers as he instructed everyone else to map recon and check stocks. There were some complaints, especially from the 212th CCs, but Fives had been tapped by Appo for ARC training. In fact, the only reason he was a part of Domino Squad still was because Cutup, Hevy, and Droidbait followed his lead so well.

Fives had seen the brawl happen, they all had heard voices rise followed by the orders from the Jedi and Cody to break up the fight.

Fives honestly didn't want to know the details of the scolding General Kenobi and Commander Cody had given them. He was even impressed by the Commander's restraint.

The other CCs were just about petrified when Cody came over to conduct drills. The dozen officers were still covering both of the battalions' guard shifts. So despite being worked to within an inch of risk of serious injury, they all, sans the officers, including Captain Rex, got to sleep this night.

Hevy sighed, "Echo would have been a pain in the sheb today. He was always worse when he was surprised or didn't know something."

His tone was gruff, but the feeling behind the words was mournful.

Echo's loss had hit them all deeply.

As one of the few squads that had made it through all their battles without losing each other, they had been blessed.

But nothing good ever lasts.

Fives sighed, touching Hevy's shoulder and squeezing it. "I know, Vod."

The door to the back refresher opened and their two newest members came awkwardly into the room.

Hardcase was older than Fives, a CC from Jesse and Appo's class. He had lost all of his batchmates early in life in a legitimate training accident.

Children with explosives and blasters were, ultimately, still children.

Apparently, Hardcase had been gun-shy for years after the accident, but by the time he hit what the nat-born's would have called his 'teenage' years, something in him had snapped. His common refrain was 'Kark it!' And he ran into everything headlong as if he were chasing death. As if he wanted to die, or maybe he just needed to dance with the promise of death to feel alive.

Or perhaps he truly didn't give a kark anymore.

Either way, he had been held back, because while there was no training scenario on Kamino he hadn't passed, he took orders poorly. He got moved from squad to squad because he had a way of picking at people that left them raw. None of the officers liked him much for his recklessness.

Dogma was Hardcase's near perfect opposite. He was, as his name implied, religious in following rules, to the point where his lack of ability to adapt was mediated only by his advanced skill set across the board.

But that was only on flimsy. He was in all other ways so newly off Kamino the shine on his carefully tended armour was blinding.

Where Hardcase would make a harsh joke about the most morbid things with a cheery grin, Dogma wouldn't say a word beyond 'Yes, Sir' for days without prompting.

Dogma had actually advanced out of his batchmates' unit, and rumour had it they weren't sad to see him go. This may have had something to do with his perpetual scowl, or perhaps the origin of it.

Fives was their new CO, which he didn't mind because it meant they got moved to a room that had its own fresher.

Hardcase pulled his blanket and pillow on the floor, plopping down, but he didn't move closer to any of them.

Dogma turned his nose up at them, as if he was above cuddle piles, but Fives caught his look of longing before he got into his bunk. Dogma turned his back on the group as if he expected to be ignored, or by the way his shoulders hunched, assumed it was what the rest of the squad wanted.

Fives sighed, "Get in the pile, trooper."

Dogma stiffened.

Fives restrained another sigh. He took his own thin blanket and sat down beside Hardcase, bumping shoulders with him, before placing a hand on the small of Dogma's back.

The shiny stiffened further, but the skin hunger, especially when exhausted, was a real need among the vode.

Dogma rolled off the bunk slowly, but with a strange grace for someone who held so much tension in his muscles. He took his pillow and blanket with him as he finally curled into Fives' side.

Nat-borns, aside from the Jedi, would never understand how different they all were. How alone and out of place a person could feel even in an army of like-faced comrades.

In Hardcase's short life, he had lost everything from an accident, and Dogma had been outcasted due to the very trait their makers had so digintantly cultivated.

Fives waited as both men relaxed into his side.

They were all bone-tired, and they would need to readjust before they could comfortably take advantage of the reprieve their commanding officers had earned them, but they were so new to each other that Fives didn't rush them. There was no battle to fight here, there was no one to judge them for their individuality.

When their door chimed, Fives bit back a groan. Holding Dogma in place, he called, "Better be good!"

Droidbait did groan, then choked when the door opened and the Marshal Commander who had taken them to task all day filled the doorway.

By leaning back into Hardcase, Fives only just managed to keep his chin from being clapped by Dogma, who snapped to attention. Between the two, Fives was yanked unceremoniously to his feet with his arms caught oddly around them.

Everyone but Fives managed a salute.

Fives couldn't stop the exasperated look he flashed the Commander. Cody could be as angry as he liked, but he couldn't work their shebs into the dirt, promise them rest, then deny them.

Well, technically, Cody could do whatever the kriff he wanted.

But that was beside the point.

Fives stopped breathing, however, going as rigid as Dogma, whom he was still half-wrapped around, as Cody stepped into the room and to the side, revealing High General Kenobi.

Fives found Skywalker and Tano amazing, but Kenobi was the real deal, the High General who would win or lose this war.

Whose choices would either save them or damn them all.

The only Jedi who seemed as in his element in this war as the vode.

Not everyone believed that, but Fives knew it with a certainty that anyone could dissuade him from.

"Cody?" General Kenobi asked, his voice wary.

Oh, good, not even the Jedi knew why the kark Cody was here.

But Cody offered them all a rare smile—well, not a grin or anything, but it was a surprisingly soft expression, especially to the fury from this morning.

"You said you couldn't sleep, but you also said you can feel our emotions," Cody said to Kenobi before gesturing to them. "They are exhausted."

General Kenobi's expression slackened, and suddenly Fives felt as if his own tiredness was a mere drop in the ocean of the older man's fatigue. But the Jedi pulled himself together into a polished facade a blink later, a facade that Fives would no longer believe.

No wonder the 212th were so fond and so worried for their General. Whatever the man desired or needed, he seemed very capable of hiding it and denying himself.

Kenobi's voice was smooth steel. "I will not intrude on them, Cody."

Strangely, it was Dogma who spoke first, offering out an informal hand to their High General. "You are welcome to join us, Sir."

Fives hid a smile as Dogma realized his own audacity, that what he was offering a High Jedi General was to sleep on the floor as if they were all cadets. But to Dogma's credit, he didn't lower his hand.

It was an improvement.

"You would know if they were lying," Cody said gently.

Kenobi hesitated, holding Dogma's gaze before crossing the threshold and taking the proffered hand.

Dogma froze, panicking, and the Jedi stilled.

Fives swallowed a laugh at the absurdity of this, but he pulled Dogma back down to the floor. Dogma allowed himself to be led, and Kenobi sank easily to his knees.

Cody touched the Jedi's shoulders, taking hold of the brown robe and Kenobi shrugged out of it. He shivered from the chill in the room that didn't bother the vode. One, because they ran hotter than most standard humans, and two, because their blacks were temperature regulating.

Dogma, who was still holding the General's hand, carefully tugged the man forward as Cody began to unbuckle his own armour, quickly stripping down to his blacks.

This felt strange. Cody should have gone to his own shinies in the 212th or to the officers, like Rex and Gregor. But Fives understood why the Commander hadn't. He was obviously still irked at whatever the ranking officers and the Bad Batch had done, and Kenobi wasn't their direct Jedi leader.

Typically, the 501st was less formal than the 212th and they wouldn't be in constant contact with each other like they would have been with Skywalker or Tano. This would be one night of informality, and if the Jedi regretted it tomorrow morning, well, he wouldn't have to deal with a bunch of shinies from a secondary Legion in any regular fashion.

The alley of a trooper's bunk was not spacious. Cutup and Droidbait laid down in the back, and Hevy curled into Droidbait and around Hardcase. Fives remained bracketed between Hardcase and Dogma, though his arm stretched over Dogma and around Kenobi. Cody took the Jedi's back, even now guarding him, and positionally closest to the door. Cody had spread the Jedi's robe over them, big enough to cover the Jedi, Dogma, and Fives.

The robe was warm and it smelled… kind of like flowers? No, it smelled like tea, Fives realized. It wasn't potent, just different from the harsh chemicals their blacks were thrown through.

The Jedi shivered, curling in tighter to them.

Did the Jedi usually run so cold?

Kenobi hummed, "Force users who actively use the Force tend to burn energy quicker. Overtime, our bodies learn to conserve energy. It's why you will see younger Jedi wear significantly less layers."

Fives frowned, not at all sure he had asked that question aloud.

"Explains Commander Tano," Hardcase said into Five's hair, amused.

"Skywalker wears thick robes," Cutup said.

"He's from a desert planet," Kenobi supplied. The Jedi shifted, letting out a long breath and relaxing into the cuddle pile.

If someone had ever told Fives he would find himself in a cadet-pile with High General Kenobi and Marshal Commander Cody, he would have laughed in their face.

"Fives, Cutup, Hevy, and Droidbait, I know," Kenobi said into the peace, "but who are the new additions to the Domino Squad?"

Fives was not entirely surprised General Kenobi remembered them, but he was flattered. Kenobi had a reputation for putting the effort into remembering his men. And he was honoured to be one of the ones remembered, even as a quieter voice inside wondered if he remembered Echo.

How many of their fallen did High General Kenobi remember?

"Hardcase, Sir," Hardcase said, resting his cheek on Fives's head.

"Dogma, Sir," his other brother said.

"An honour to meet you both," Kenobi said, sounding completely sincere. "Thank you for having us."

Us, Fives mused, pleased his ori'vod had found someone who could keep up with him.

Cody was not the 'best' at what they did, but he had a high level proficiency at anything a Commander needed to be skilled in. More than that, Cody was gifted in finding out what his men needed. He was good at organising his troops, good at motivating them, and in his own way, building up a community within the ranks.

The 212th had been on the frontline of nearly every major conflict in this war, and they had not broken.

General Kenobi complemented Cody well, able to reassure every one of them that they mattered and were deserving of respect. The entire 7th Sky Corp, the 501st included, had adopted that mentality, and unlike on Kamino, they weren't competing with each other.

And unlike love, respect could be given without fear.

The Kaminoans had taught them to fear each other's mistakes, taught them to fear caring for one another. They had done so anyway, in spite, in dispersion, in the only act of rebellion they could participate in and survive, and it had been worth it, no matter the inevitable pain.

But Kenobi had shown them a middle way, showed them respect was a type of empowerment that could be given freely without fear.

"The honour is ours, Sir," Fives said.

"Thank you, Fives," Kenobi replied, his voice softened by the pull of sleep.

Fives grinned, and the last of the tension went out of Dogma, whose head drooped fully on Fives's shoulder. The shiny was asleep not minutes later, physically exhausted and likely with the sense of being safer than he had ever felt.

They weren't in a warzone, they weren't going to a warzone, and he had his squad with him as well as a Marshal Commander and Jedi High General at his back.

There was no better security.

And that sense of safety seemed to wash over them. Fives closed his eyes, sinking into the feeling. Something warm and gentle, something that was bright and calming.

He didn't know when sleep claimed him, he knew only that his dreams were filled with stars. His mind connected to his brothers, to the Jedi…

Fives realized that this thing he was feeling was the Force, and his ability to sense it coming from General Kenobi.

Even in dreams, Fives was grateful. He had seen the Jedi work their magic, but it was a gift to know that the Force, even if they couldn't use it, knew him and his brothers.

Within the Force, their lives hung like constellations. Like beacons of hope.

Obi-Wan was so used to keeping up his shields, bracing himself against death, against the ever-present fear and grief.

But these men were young. Fives, not so much—losing Echo at the prison run had aged him—but he hadn't lost his hope yet. His obvious and open love for his brothers, for his squad, made Obi-Wan like him better.

Fives was a talented soldier, and that, along with his heart, made it easy to see why Sergeant Appo had chosen him to take under his wing and advance through the ranks.

The 501st amused Obi-Wan. Their ranks were organic and they managed each other in the most endearing ways.

Appo was the perfect example: He was an excellent pilot and trainer. Older, more experienced, and sometimes more skilled than Jesse and even Rex at times. But as a Sergeant, Appo had more freedom, more spare time to train others. The three soldiers' dynamics also helped them manage Anakin and Tano. Rex kept up with his Jedi counterparts, and Jesse helped Rex lead from the back when Rex was often separated from his men, moving too fast. Likewise, Appo was able to follow Anakin, could adapt to Anakin's flight tactics with a frightening ease, and was able to organise the non-Force-sensitive pilots.

The 501st Legion was the largest force in the GAR that could fight and flip between being both guerilla fighters and elite military task force.

Honestly, Jango Fett's skills polished into a formal military was a frighteningly brilliant move. Obi-Wan doubted any 'nat-born' army could ever compare to them.

As for his own men, well, his personal battalion in comparison to the 501st were enduring. He did his best to foster that, to bring out the best in them, and remind them how incredible they all were.

His men's care for him in return was humbling.

When he was younger, he believed leaving Qui-Gon to fight on Melida/Daan was the worst choice of his life. But the last year had taught him the Force had been with him even then, because without that experience, he wasn't sure he would be able to think clearly enough to keep his people safe.

He knew the others in the Order were struggling, hiding their fear in a desperate attempt not to take the faith and heart out of the clones who relied on them. It was why Obi-Wan had been entrusted with so much of the GAR, because he thrived in war.

Which he had so long hated about himself, but he was glad of it now.

"Sleep, General," Cody breathed into his ear.

Obi-Wan shivered, curling himself around the sleeping soldier between him and Fives. Cody settled more firmly against his back.

Obi-Wan sighed, dropping his forehead to Dogma's and further lessened his shields.

Dogma's loneliness filled him, Fives's concern, Hardcase's relief, and Cutup, Hevy, and Droidbait's exhaustion.

The exhaustion they all felt took the teeth out of the complexity of their emotions. It was not healthy for Jedi to embrace their empathy, it was so easy to lose oneself, but Obi-Wan hadn't earned the title of Master for nothing. Focusing on just this room, he brought Dogma's loneliness into himself and was easily able to let it go into the Force. Dogma's mind was open in sleep and allowing the Force—the Light Side, specifically—to flow through them all made it impossible for the sense of loneliness to persist.

Fives's concern, however, was not in Obi-Wan's power to dismiss, but he could offer comfort, connection, and the hope that came with the existence of life.

To Hardcase he offered the same, and to the rest he offered sweet dreams.

This was a type of group meditation that was extremely difficult, but it was the first meditation any Jedi youngling ever experienced, guided by their creche Masters.

If this was a nat-born army, this exercise would be futile, but these men were brothers, this squad cared for each other.

Webs of connections of silver and gold threads connected all the vode to each other, in much the same way the Jedi were connected to one another.

And then there was Cody.

Oh, Cody.

Who always had Obi-Wan's back, was always at his side, caring for the GAR, caring for him.

In the Force, Cody's love for Obi-Wan was all-encompassing. It was a gift beyond anything he deserved. Cody wasn't just guarding his back, but in this moment, his dreams.

A sentry against the nightmares.

Obi-Wan couldn't remember the last person who had loved him with the depth that Cody did. Love that was not based in lust, but respect and his wish for Obi-Wan's well being.

Maybe Bant had loved him like that once?

But Bant's care for him had died with Tahl, when Obi-Wan had been there and Bant, Tahl's Padawan at the time, hadn't been.

Bant had never forgiven him for it, just like Qui-Gon had never forgiven himself.

Quin, and years ago Satine, loved Obi-Wan as both friends and in shared lust.

Cody's was far more fierce and protective, more true, and it remade Obi-Wan. He could only hope he lived up to the man Cody thought he was.

And rather than fighting it, rather than dismissing this gift, Obi-Wan did exactly what Cody had suggested: he let the others' exhaustion pull him into sleep.

Wrapping Cody's protection and care around them all as the Force danced starlight through their dreams.

AN: Thoughts, gazelles, or feedback, pretty please?