Wolffe woke up a few times and only maintained consciousness for a few seconds at a time. The first time was when Sketcher was making the arduous trek back to camp, shuffling forward with snow up to his knees and breathing heavily. He seemed to be repeating under his breath, but Wolffe couldn't stay awake long enough to find out. The second time, he was inside the med tent, Twitch and other two medics were running around, fussing over his body, more specifically, his face. This time, he did notice his depth perception seemed to be off, and the awful headache he had made the lights too bright and the sounds too loud.

The third and final time he woke up, he was aboard the cruiser. He had a few monitors stuck to his left forearm and the med bay seemed to be completely empty, except for another person. It took him a few moments to recognize the black hair, yellow skin and the tiny little horns arranged like a halo on top of their head.

Kriari was curled up on a chair next to his bed, there were deep shadows under her eyes, and even in oblivion, her face was not one of peace. She looked stressed, tired, worried sick. Her brows were furrowed and her lips were tight, her arms were wrapped around her torso protectively and her knees were tight against her chest.

Had he really been wounded that badly? What could have happened that he-

Memories flooded his mind, like a tsunami hitting the Coruscanti city, tearing everything in its path to shreds. He saw brothers falling, stabbed, beheaded, strangled to death by some unseen hand. He saw two red lightsabers and eyes full of hatred for him, for what he stood for. And then, he saw no more. The pain was too great, the blood loss made him dizzy, he collapsed and knew no more.

Ventress.

Wolffe brought a hand to his right eye. It had been covered with a bacta pad. Had he lost it? Was he going to be removed from duty? Had he failed so spectacularly that his superiors would force him to retirement? What other options did he have? He was broken, he was no longer at full capacity, no longer complete. He was a broken man and broken men could not lead.

What would he do? Would he be sent to maintenance? Would he be put behind a desk, organizing some fancy person's schedule? No, he was a soldier, he always would be, they would not send him away from his brothers, from the General -the closest thing he had to a father-, he would be dead before he was made to part with the 104th. And Kriari, he could barely look at her, if he had failed, then it was her who must have faced Ventress in the end. She faced Ventress and he was not there to assist her. Kriari had faced Asajj Ventress on her own and had probably thought he was dead.

Wolffe was not stupid, his loyalty to Kriari was not one sided, his care for her wasn't either. She had been tested in that frozen inferno, and he didn't know if she had passed that test. To think Kriari could have used the dark side in her grief froze Wolffe's blood in his veins. No, she was good and in no way anything like Ventress. Kriari would never become that heartless, that cruel, that violently unhinged. He refused to believe it.

But he hadn't been there, had he? He had made himself into a liability, he had gone and got himself fatally injured when his Commander needed him most. He had been weak. And now he was even weaker, broken, incomplete. All because of one angry lady with unhealthy coping mechanisms and two blasted lightsabers.

He needed to be smarter, faster, stronger, better in every way. He needed to go back to his original strength and then some. Wolffe would train himself to death if it meant this would never happen again, if it meant he could continue to serve by his Jedi's side. If they didn't decommission him, that is.

He realized that wouldn't really stop him, and it was a little frightening. Like hell he would take any job other than that of a soldier. He would become a deserter if he had to, fight from the shadows, keep protecting the Pack however he could. Loyalty was everything to the clones, and loyalty went deeper than duty and always came first. It was an unspoken rule of the Pack: follow orders swiftly until they endanger the Pack. Not one member of the 104th would turn against their own, they would die first.

So Wolffe decided he would continue to serve whether they let him or not. He was no longer a complete man, but he would fill that void with the only thing he had: his people.

"You're awake."

The sound of Kriari's voice startled him. He had been deeply in thought, and hadn't noticed when she woke up. Wolffe's chest tightened when he looked at her. Her hair was a mess, her robes wrinkled and dirty underneath her armour. The shadows underneath her eyes looked even darker under the fluorescent light of the med bay.

"I am." He answered.

She smiled, tired, broken, and as her eyes glossed out and tears came to her eyes, Wolffe realized she had never looked at him like that. She was relieved.

"Tell me." It had sounded like a demand, an order, but the weary look on his eye told Kriari he needed to know.

"I thought you were dead when I arrived," she started. "Sketcher was holding your head up and the Force had almost completely left your body."

"You fought her." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

He considered his next words carefully. He knew this was not his area of expertise, but he knew enough to be weary of her using the dark side. He also didn't want to seem self centered by assuming his death would turn her. In the end, Kriari volunteered the information on her own.

"I would have turned if Sketcher hadn't been there. It felt so natural to act on my anger and grief. I realized what I was about to do when I noticed it wasn't Ventress he was afraid of." She sighed deeply. "It was the will of the Force really, if he hadn't been there, I don't know what I would have turned into."

Guilt stabbed ar Wolffe's heart again.

"I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough, Commander." he said finally.

"Don't," she said sharply. "Do not think for a second any of this is your fault. You did your duty, you survived a Sith, Wolffe. That is no weakness."

He frowned.

"I wouldn't call what I did strength. Sketcher had to drag my sorry ass back to camp in a blizzard-"

"I don't think you understand, Wolffe. You should have died, but in your desperate attempt to survive you unconsciously used what little midichlorians you have to hold onto the Force. You are not Force sensitive and you used the Force." She said breathlessly. "Master Plo examined you when he arrived three rotations ago."

He felt like she had slapped him across the face.

"No, I- that's impossible." He stammered out.

"Everything is possible with the Force." She answered as if it had been something she'd been told her entire life. Then, she straightened on her seat and squared her shoulders. Commander Foreas would address him now. "Clone Commander Wolffe, by order of your Jedi General, Master Plo Koon, you are now promoted to Marshal Commander. In order for you to fit nicely into your new position, you will start training with General Plo and I. Congratulations, Marshal Commander."

No, this was wrong. Wolffe had let his entire squad die, he had been wounded and his only surviving brother had had to carry him to safety. He didn't deserve to be promoted, he had failed spectacularly and he hadn't been there to assist his Commander in her fight against Ventress. He had been the reason she nearly turned to the Dark Side-

His thought process came to a screeching halt. He had been the reason she almost turned to the Dark Side, which meant she needed to have a strong attachment to him to begin with. The Pack knew their Jedi were powerful and resourceful, they never in a million years believed they could turn. And here Kriari was, still with them, but only because she had sensed Sketcher's source of fear was her. Their bond -he realized- was strong enough for her to lose control should it be severed. Knowing this gave him a mixture of emotions: pride, joy, sadness, an urge to protect, and something else he couldn't put his finger on. He realized some of these emotions were selfish, there was something inherently wrong in the possibility of Kriari turning because of him making him happy. But he couldn't help it, the thought of what he would do if she died terrified him, but knowing she would go to the same extremes for him was reassuring in a twisted kind of way. But Wolffe was a smart man, he knew that acknowledging this would put her in an uncomfortable position with the Jedi Order, and him in violation of the GAR's rules of conduct. They would have to keep it under wraps for the time being. If she ever left the Jedi Order, he would not be the reason why, and if he planned on continuing to protect her, he needed to keep his position in the GAR. But getting promoted still felt wrong, it felt disrespectful for those of his brothers who died at the hands of Asajj Ventress.

"I don't believe I deserve the honor, Commander. I am no longer at 100% capacity, and I was the reason all those men died in the first place."

Kriari shook her head and smiled a little as she stood. There was something in her eyes he couldn't quite place, but he didn't question it. They were toeing the line of the appropriate already.

"It's not about what you believe, Wolffe. It's about who we know you to be."

…

There was a lot that I didn't tell him, like how close I had actually come to turning, like how I wouldn't be seeing the 104th for a while. I hadn't told him it was him whom I'd been mourning and not his brothers. I hadn't told him how I felt a piece of my soul die when I saw him. There was a lot I hadn't told him. But I did tell my master everything. I couldn't keep it to myself, not with how close I'd come.

Master Plo listened in silence, patiently waiting for me to finish speaking. I couldn't look him in the eyes, I felt like I'd betrayed him, like I'd failed him in the worst way possible. Fallen apprentices were something that scarred Jedi for life, and to know I could have hurt him so filled me with guilt. I loved Master Plo, and I had betrayed him.

"Your thoughts betray you, Child." he said finally before taking my right hand in both of his. "I am extremely proud of you, Kriari."

I looked up so fast I might have snapped my neck. Tears were already running down my face and I was sure all he could see in my eyes was disbelief.

"You did what very little Jedi can do: you formed very strong attachments and resisted the dark side when one was severed." his grip on my hands tightened. "You formed the very strongest attachment, Kriari, and you resisted the darkness."

I looked at my master's face, sensed him in the Force, he was serious.

"But it was only luck, Master, if Sketcher hadn't been there-"

"There is no such thing as luck, Kriari. There is only the Force."

I sighed tiredly. I was torn between what I knew to be right and where my heart was trying to guide me. Master Plo knew, but he stayed silent, it was something I had to figure out on my own. I needed time.