Obi-Wan paced back and forth repeatedly in front of Cody's door in the medbay. He traced his Commander with the Force to this very room, but as he approached, it became increasingly obvious that said man was still asleep there inside. Obi-Wan glanced at the chronometer on the wall for the twenty-eighth time this morning: 600 hours Standard. Considerably late, for a clone. His strides were stiff and impatient. His arms were folded tight across his chest, one hand tapping his bicep incessantly while the other secretively clutched the bottle of far-too-mild pain medication he'd liberated in a desperate raid from an empty room nearby. The drugs he was receiving on IV had worn away nearly an hour ago, leaving Obi-Wan with an indomitable tremor and a profound degree of regret. He could no longer pick up on the coldness fluttering over his skin from the accident with the sprinklers a bit earlier. But having carried himself all this way, he was yet unwilling to resign himself back to his bed.
Staying in motion helped to preserve his focus and drive away the pain. Ordinarily he could achieve something close to a zero state where bodily feeling was concerned, but that level of transcendence required the Force. And the Force was, at present, a terribly painful thing to concentrate on. It would therefor be somewhat of a counterproductive exercise to suffer through that in addition, just to release the same amount of pain that the act generated. Connecting with the Force was supposed to feel natural. But for the past few days (minus that glorious moment fresh off the IV) it was rather like some Sithly demon that Obi-Wan suffered to summon each time. His eyes found the chronometer again: 600 hours – and one detestable minute. He scrubbed angrily at the blaster wound stinging brutally inside of his chest. There was a blunt, grating sensation pervading his body, like sandpaper on his bones and rusted needles in his skin. He'd had enough. Once it was clear that the next trip down the hall would have him collapsed on the spot, Obi-Wan put an end to his pacing and planted his back to the wall next to the door hiding Cody. He paused there for a time, scuffing the floor with bare feet, fingering the worthless container of pills, pushing his hair back with trembling hands… Existence was agony. He glared at the chronometer again: a blurred set of red figures glared back.
Of course it was futile to pray to the thing – Obi-Wan was perfectly aware that the numbers could climb indefinitely and still pose no bearing on the time at which his Commander would emerge. The chronometer was simply a staple; it provided a notion of progress, as opposed to the stagnating pool he otherwise felt himself to be drowning in. While the numbers peaked on illegible as his condition declined, it was as if that lifeboat had sailed. Obi-Wan judged it prudent then that he make a decision. Dwindling on endlessly like this would probably result in unconsciousness soon, which would be productive to no one and a burden on staff. Waking up Cody, by comparison, would be terribly discourteous, knowing full well that the reason for his being late to rise must be serious indeed. Continuing to waffle this way would be synonymous with option one, meaning when put together, it was wholly unavoidable that Obi-Wan was about to encumber someone's good day. Careening forward with his head drooping low, the last of his power was sent to his arm. He slung his fist back, and it collided with the door at his side.
Cody shot to attention from the desk where he laid. He cringed in response, neck stiff from the sideways position he took in the evening when he'd promised to merely "rest his eyes." He'd kept the room after his surgery for the leg sling it harbored, conveniently placed over the end of the bed as if he actually planned to use it for sleep. The chronometer in the room read 06:03. Cody exhaled in a sigh. Bad example to the men, he scolded internally, before the sound of a shuffling outside captured his curiosity. He wavered as he stood. The lights were too bright, the air was too dry, and his crutch was annoying to fit with his armor. Minor complaints, every one of them, but this entire mission was built out of minor complaints and Cody had never wanted to wake up on Coruscant so badly. When the door to his room opened out into the hall, there was no one to greet. He blinked heavily once, and jumped out of his skin at the sight of his General slumped over on the ground to the left.
"General!" he shouted involuntarily, before tossing the crutch and dropping to his knees. He pawed viciously to get at Obi-Wan's face.
Obi-Wan awoke with a start of equivalent caliber. He jerked away at the touch and reached for his lightsaber, grabbing at air until he made sense of the form in front of him. "Cody! Oh I was– Nngh–" he managed to reply, hit almost instantaneously with an intense rush of pressure behind his eyes.
"I need a medic over here!" Cody yelled loud through the facility. He found a bandaged hand over his mouth the very next moment from the crippled man below.
"CODY," Obi-Wan admonished him quietly, threatening deadly warning by way of expression. "I just came to talk about the mission," he urgently appealed.
Cody was dumbstruck. His tired face contorted in bewilderment, staring at Obi-Wan as though he was the strangest species yet to be discovered. "…I think I'm finally sodding losing it," he despaired. He gripped his General's upper arms and tugged, pulling with enough strength to stand them both on their feet. Obi-Wan stumbled along with him, though the terse movement was more than sufficient to cast daggers through his frame and set fire to his lungs. He shuddered awfully and gasped as he crumbled back down. Cody sputtered in a barrage of apologies. When Obi-Wan showed no signs of recovering, falling instead into a sort of raspy fit of coughs, he proceeded to gather him up in both arms and lift him more cautiously. The General was always light-weight. A clone in medical uniform was jogging around the corner as Cody shuttled inside, limping determinedly with his teeth clenched together.
As soon as he set Obi-Wan on the bed, he punched the emergency call button and dragged over his chair from the desk. Obi-Wan had successfully stowed his cough in the meantime, purposefully so that he could meet his Commander's bleary gaze with intense disapproval. Neither of them said anything when the medic stormed in and began to gauge the situation.
"Wait a minute- is that, General Kenobi?" he blurted in confusion.
"It is," Cody answered slowly without breaking eye contact.
"Well what in Jango's good name is he doing here?!"
"That's what I'd like to know." The bitterness in his voice painted over the whole room. Obi-Wan took the opportunity to persuade by the assistance of emotional contrast. He stuffed the pain down his throat in an instant.
"I was discharged this morning," he addressed the medic with sudden softness and pleasantry. "I'm sorry for your trouble. My subordinate is overreacting."
An artery popped into view upon Cody's neck. The poor medic wasn't given a chance to respond. "Oh your subordinate is about to get discharged from the damned Republic ARMY for unarmed assault!" He might have been vibrating as he leaned forward toward Obi-Wan's face.
Nobody spoke after that, for a time. Obi-Wan waited for his Commander to retract, and when he did not, the General's smile changed by a margin, and he folded his hands politely. "…My," he began with an ominous grin, "How bold you've become in four days."
The stampeding footfalls of the emergency medical team could be heard from outside on their rapid approach. Obi-Wan laid back into the heap of three cushions. Cody looked anywhere else in the room to still his thrumming nerves. And when the entourage arrived in full, it was frightfully serene in the way they were met without resistance. Obi-Wan lifted his arm when he was asked, complied with the sensors they placed over his heart, and consented to whatever new drugs they would give him. In fact, the only disturbance he incited was in the middle of all this when he opened his eyes a ways, and reported the coming of another visitor. A scant five seconds later, Anakin came barreling into the room, utterly disheveled and pursued by a nurse who was hopeless to catch up.
"WHAT HAPPENED," he asked to everyone and no one at once, shoving and squeezing through clones without regard for an answer.
"Hello Anakin," Obi-Wan welcomed him lovingly. His mind was beginning to drift. He must have consented to a sedative at some point. Or not, which was perhaps just as likely to result in the same event.
It was something out of a dream for Anakin to witness his Master awake and in motion. It didn't match the ugly gore in the Force, not at all, but that didn't prevent him from reacting with sheer glee. Having woken up to the sensation of choking and screaming through their bond, the picture right here was a million times better than he was expecting to find. Anakin would have liked nothing more than to pounce over top of Obi-Wan on sight, but sadly as ever, he confined himself to the bedside and pretended to be content. "I can't believe you're alive!" he exclaimed as the professionals resumed their re-wiring. Cody offhandedly wondered if he might be the one with the happier meeting, were it instead Anakin who was plagued with the impossible task of General Kenobi.
"I'm just as surprised," Obi-Wan reflected, letting his eyes close again.
"What's up with the new room? Don't tell me it had something to do with way I woke up this morning. And thanks for that, by the way."
"Mmh, thought I'd like… change of scenery." He turned his wrist over to draw Anakin's attention to the tubes he suspected were stealing his consciousness so swiftly. There wouldn't be any more time to explain.
Fortunately, Anakin was both intuitive and easy to distract. "…Oh. Uh, guess we can talk some more later. All right? Because well," he lowered his voice, "There's gonna be a lot we have to discuss." Obi-Wan was already gone.
The emergency response team performed the routine checks for each piece of equipment they called into action, then dictated the new mandate for Obi-Wan's condition – which was a lot like the old one, Cody was clever to note, but this time had stronger wording. Cynically predicting a repeat offense in the very near future, Cody requested the medical consent forms affiliated, and signed off on the use of everything he could think of to strip his General of free will. He was already in the can for backtalk. Might as well take it all the way home.
"Man. I can't believe he's awake after all that," commented Anakin, glowing euphoric nearby. Cody kept reading to himself.
"Yeah. It's fripping excellent."
