Fox worried about all of the guards under his care, but he didn't have the time or energy to take a personal interest in all of them. He knew all of his siblings by both name and designation. He knew all of their strengths and weaknesses. He didn't hesitate to get involved if one of the guard needed important attention, but for the most part he backed off. There were a few exceptions, of course, and Dogma had quickly become one of them.
Fox always kept a close eye on the newest soldiers in the guard for the first few weeks, just to make sure that they were adjusting well. Dogma was adapting far better than most clones. Fox could already tell that his demeanor made him perfect for the guard.
Dogma didn't complain about a lack of resources. He understood that they were doing their best, and it was comforting and heartbreaking at once. He did really well on his first few shifts. Thorn said that they were insulted harshly by citizens when they were patrolling the streets, and Dogma didn't so much as flinch or rise to the bait.
About half the guard had two or three jobs that they stuck to. The other half rotated through all of them. Fox could tell that he'd probably keep Dogma on the rotation, because he seemed to be good at all of it.
Dogma was thorough with paperwork, and he didn't get bored of it even after several hours. He didn't let any little detail slip past him, and that was the kind of attention that they needed. He handled the drunk tank and prison duties just as well as he did the street patrols. He could handle verbal abuse like the best of them.
Fox didn't normally put shinies on senate duty, but he decided to give Dogma a chance. He'd proved himself so far. Fox was careful about it. He made sure it was on a day when the Chancellor probably wouldn't call him in so he could be Dogma's buddy for the day. That was the only way that Fox could be as sure as he could that he would be okay.
Dogma did as well as Fox could ask. If he was any other brother, Fox would probably think he would do fine, and he would back off and let Dogma work.
But he'd noticed some concerning things. Things that he only knew to look for because of what little he knew of Dogma's time in the 501st. He knew that the kid had struggled with his relationship with his brothers. Fox had hoped he'd do better with the guard, because he knew none of his men would give Dogma a hard time about following the rules, or tease him about his name.
But Dogma didn't trust them. That in and of itself wasn't a problem. Fox knew he just needed time and patience. The problem was that while Dogma was reluctant to ask for help, he was the first in line to offer it.
The guard was overworked, but Fox did his best to not overwhelm the newcomers. He couldn't ease them in as much as he wanted to, but he did what he could. He made it so whenever they got new guards, their first day was just for basic orientation and adapting, and the next two or three they would work just a single shift a day. For half a week after that they would work a shift and a half every other day, and then it would be every day. Eventually they would be moved to the double shift that was expected of everybody in the guard.
Dogma did well on his first shift, but on his second day working, after his shift, Dogma ran into a brother who had just had a very bad shift in the senate, and was too emotionally vulnerable to take his next shift in the drunk tank. According to Thire, who had been with Dogma at the time, their vod'ika hadn't hesitated to volunteer to take their brother's shift.
Fox had reluctantly allowed it, because Dogma had been adjusting well, and they needed somebody on shift. And the drunk tank was one of the few posts where the guard was allowed to be a little tired and unfocused.
Fox should have said no, because that hadn't been a one-off or occasional thing. A brother just helping another. And two days later, when Dogma asked to do a double shift on paperwork, Fox should have refused him. Even if Dogma was noticeably anxious, and felt better when he had something to keep himself busy, he shouldn't be working that much yet. Fox had seen this behavior from soldiers before, and the kid was just going to run himself into the ground.
Almost every other day Dogma was taking someone else's shift. Fox knew that he could, and maybe should, just forbid him from doing so. He was Dogma's senior officer. He knew the kid would listen to him. But he didn't want to take advantage of his brother like that.
Dogma couldn't seem to help but listen to orders. It was to a concerning extent, and Fox was determined to get to the bottom of it when he had the time. Until then, he saw it as his job to keep things from going too far. As his commander, Fox needed to make sure that nobody hurt Dogma in an irreparable way, and now it was clear that he also had to keep Dogma from hurting himself.
He just wished he knew why his vod'ika was doing this. Fox could see a plethora of reasons why Dogma was determined to keep working. His first thought was that Dogma was taking the first rule of the guard to heart. That they looked out for each other. Maybe he'd interpreted it as him personally needing to take care of the others.
The third time that Dogma had volunteered to take someone's shift, Fox had pulled him aside and told him plainly that he didn't have to do this. Dogma had just stared at him, said 'I know', and then gone back to work.
Fox' second guess was that Dogma's hiding closet wasn't working for him, and he was turning to work as a safe haven instead. Fox would be willing to let the kid use his office whenever he wanted if it just meant he would slow down for five minutes. But it soon became clear that something else was going on, because whenever Dogma wasn't working, he was in his closet, reading or making the armor spotless, and he seemed perfectly content there.
On Dogma's tenth day there, Fox found Dogma in his closet, sleeping. He'd seen the guard take naps in some odd places. That in and of itself wasn't what was concerning. What completely broke Fox' heart was that Dogma had pieced together the armor parts to make an empty shell, and that was what he was sleeping against.
Dogma was curled up close to the chest piece, using it as a pillow. The armor's helmet was leaning on top of Dogma's head, and its arm pieces were draped over his body.
Fox had seen brothers in similar poses all the time. They always sought out comfort from each other, and none of them would hesitate to hold another in need. And yet Dogma was in his closet, with his armor arranged around him in a sorry replica of a brother.
Was he seeking the comfort of a specific vod that wasn't here? Or did he feel like he couldn't come to them for comfort?
As busy as Fox was, he watched Dogma carefully after that. He refused to let him take any more shifts, and that's when some pieces started to come together.
Dogma would look upset about being denied, but he would nod, accept Fox' decision, and return to the sleeping quarters where everybody else was. Fox found that interesting. Dogma spent a decent amount of time around the others, but when he was upset he always retreated to his closet. Unless, apparently, the reason he was upset was because he was refused a shift.
Fox watched Dogma during these times, and he noticed that while he was still isolating himself, the kid's attention would always be on the other side of the room, where another brother was panicking or crying. The clone was usually being calmed and reassured by their vode, and Fox knew that the upset clone was the one whose shift Dogma had tried to take.
It was strange. Dogma clearly wanted to help a brother in need, which was why he kept on volunteering for these shifts. And he felt concerned and guilty when he wasn't allowed to help in that way, even if somebody else always took that shift anyway. If Dogma really wanted to help, why did he always stay on the other side of the room? Why didn't he talk to the stressed brother, provide comfort with words and company? That could sometimes mean so much more than a few hours off could.
Sometimes Dogma looked like he was tempted to go over there and offer his own form of comfort. He would look like he was psyching himself up. He would take a cautious step forward, and then another, but then he would flinch and fall back, farther away than before.
It was ironic. Fox felt like he should say something to Dogma about the fact that the kid obviously felt like he should say something. But Fox held back because he knew that the kid considered everything that a superior said to him as being an order, and he didn't want to give him the wrong impression.
What if Fox said something that made Dogma think that he was being ordered to talk to their upset brothers and provide comfort? He would push himself out of his comfort zone needlessly. That wasn't what Fox wanted. He just wanted to understand what it was that Dogma wanted so that he could help him get it.
He'd thought that after talking to Dogma about the closet, that he'd made it clear that he wanted to know his brother's needs and desires. He'd thought that Dogma had understood, and would come to him. Fox thought that maybe Dogma did understand that he could go to him when he needed help, but maybe he couldn't tell that he needed help at all.
Fox didn't want to smother Dogma, or make him think that he thought he was incompetent and needed to be babied. So he watched, and waited, and hoped that Dogma would figure things out on his own. When Stone came to his office one day with a report that Dogma had given up two hours of sleep last night, Fox knew that enough was enough. He needed to take care of things.
Depending on the day, everybody in the guard should be able to get five to seven hours of sleep, and that was something they were very strict on. If they didn't get enough sleep, they were tired, and fatigue led to mistakes being made. That was something they couldn't afford. They didn't really have the time for proper sleep, but they made the time, because unlike the GAR, they didn't have access to stim shots to push them through a few more hours.
Fox understood that sometimes somebody couldn't sleep, or they needed just that little bit. While they were strict about sleep, they did allow conditions. They were allowed to get out of bed one hour early if they couldn't sleep, or if the next brother to use the bunk really needed the sleep. They could also go to bed an hour later than was scheduled, if they wanted to have a night out or give someone a few extra minutes of sleep.
Dogma must have done both, and he'd only been scheduled for five hours of sleep last night anyway. Three hours was not enough to work on, and that was assuming that Dogma had been able to sleep at all during that time. Considering he'd been awake early enough to offer the bunk, Fox doubted that he'd gotten any rest at all.
"What's his shift today?" Fox asked.
"Senate duty, and then a half shift shadowing in the medbay." Stone said. Fox scowled. Not only did Dogma already have a shift and a half today, but they were both shifts that couldn't be worked on so little sleep. They needed to be at full attention in the senate. And if Dogma went to the medbay on anything less than full sleep, the medic would notice, and he'd tear both Dogma and Fox apart for it.
"Send him to my office, and see if you can find someone to cover his shift." Fox said. He would arrange for Dogma to shadow the medics another time. Right now, this was more important.
Stone nodded, and there was a brief look for relief in his eyes. He'd been worried about Dogma too. "I'll take care of it, Sir." He left Fox' office, leaving him to figure out what he was supposed to say to Dogma.
He didn't have long to think on it. Just a minute or two passed before there was a knock on his door. Fox sighed and stood up, opening the door himself, revealing Dogma, who was stiff, but didn't seem anxious.
"You wanted to see me, Sir?" Dogma asked.
"I've been meaning to talk to you." Fox stepped aside, letting Dogma in. He closed the door behind him and took off his helmet. Fox wore his helmet at all times, even when in the safety of the barracks, because there was no telling when there might be a surprise inspection or sudden emergency. But he knew that as long as he wore that helmet, Dogma saw him as his commander. Without it, he was just a concerned ori'vod.
Dogma clearly tried to refrain from reacting, but Fox saw his mouth twitch. "Have I done something wrong?"
Fox felt a pang in his chest. He hated when his brothers thought that he could only reach out to talk because he was upset with them. More than that, he hated that Dogma might just believe so because that was his experience with attention. That it was only given to him if he stood out in the wrong way.
"No, Vod'ika, you're doing great." Fox said. "I'm just concerned about you. Stone told me you didn't sleep last night."
Dogma frowned. "I slept, just…not a lot."
"If you're having a hard time sleeping, we have meds for that kind of thing." Fox said. It was one of the few kinds of medication that they had as much access to as they needed. Even the Chancellor understood that if they couldn't sleep, they couldn't work, and they couldn't just work past their exhaustion the way they could force their way past their pain.
Dogma was quiet for a moment. "I don't know if it would help. I would sleep, but-"
"But it wouldn't get to the root of the problem." Fox could easily understand that much. It was why he didn't like to use sleep meds himself. He didn't want to rely on them and use them as an excuse to avoid his issues. He still avoided the things he didn't like to think about, but at least he couldn't convince himself that he was taking care of it.
"So, what's wrong?" Fox asked.
"...I miss my brothers." Dogma said. "I miss my vod." It shouldn't be surprising. New guards, especially transfers from the GAR, always struggled with homesickness. Just because Dogma acted like he had always belonged here didn't mean that he hadn't once with the 501st. Fox had seen so many ways that Dogma hadn't felt like he had fit in with Rex' men, but they were still his brothers. He still had vode there.
Fox' concern was warring with him in his head. He was convinced that the frontline soldiers couldn't truly care about the guard, because they didn't truly understand them. Fox knew that Cody, Rex, Wolffe, and the others all claimed to love him. They called him vod, and claimed him as their own. But he didn't know how someone could love someone if they didn't really know them.
At that point, you don't love a person. You love the thought of that person, and then that just left Fox with impossible to meet expectations.
But Rex had asked him to keep him updated about Dogma. Since the transfer, he'd even called Fox twice to ask how Dogma was doing.
Fox had just given Rex basic answers that had nothing to do with Dogma's emotional state. He was frustrated that Rex didn't even seem to consider that Dogma could be emotionally struggling. But at least Rex was asking. And he wouldn't be calling if he didn't care, because surely he had more important things to think about.
"Have you called any of them since you came here?" Fox leaned against his desk. Dogma grimaced, clearly upset.
"I've thought about it." Dogma rubbed his arm, where his communicator was. "But I don't think it's a good idea. I'm just going to end up saying something that will upset them, or anger them, and then we'd both just feel worse than if I hadn't said anything at all." There was a numb acceptance in Dogma's eyes that Fox hated. The kid was way too young to look like that.
Fox knew that he should convince Dogma that he didn't know that was the case. For all he knew, his brothers missed him desperately and wanted nothing more than to talk to him. But how was he supposed to make such a reassurance when he had experienced the exact thing that Dogma was worried about?
Fox tried to play nice with his vode, but the majority of his calls with them ended in angry accusations, shouting, and one of them abruptly hanging up on the others. More times than he wanted to admit, Fox would get off a call with his brothers and immediately curl up on his bed, crying.
Fox wasn't going to try to push the guard to distance themselves from their GAR brothers, but he wasn't going to encourage them to reconnect if they were second guessing their relationship either.
Fox didn't think that any brother could be easily replaced, but the pain of being forgotten about and left behind could be eased when one was surrounded by brothers that they knew cared. He would always long for Bly, Ponds, and Gree, but whenever he missed them most, Thorn, Their, and Stone were right there for him.
The Guard saved Fox from drowning in his own loneliness and despair. Maybe they could do the same for Dogma.
"I've noticed you haven't really connected with the guards." Fox said. "I'm not saying you have to, but it might help."
Dogma looked pained and vulnerable. Fox was reminded so much of the cadets on Kamino who did their best on an assignment, and still failed.
"I'm trying." Dogma said emphatically. "I like the guard. I want to be liked by them, but I don't know how."
"Talking is a good place to start." Fox said. Dogma's eyes hardened.
"No, it's not." Dogma said with the confidence of someone with experience. "Talking is what makes people realize you're not worth listening to."
Fox really didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't have to. Dogma kept going.
"I got along fine with Torrent." He said calmly. Too calmly. "It could be really good sometimes, but then I would start talking, and suddenly I became a burden to be around."
Dogma stood straight, as though at attention. He stared unblinkingly ahead. His voice was still calm, as though he was just giving a report. It made Fox sick. He didn't like that Dogma was looking past his shoulder instead of directly at him. Who did Dogma feel like he was talking to?
"Did your brothers tell you that?" Fox asked. He swore he would arrest Rex' men if they dared to speak in such a way to one of their own, even if they thought it was just teasing.
"They didn't have to." Dogma said. His voice finally had a crack of emotion in it. "They rolled their eyes and teased me a little when I followed the rules, but they didn't really give me a hard time about it. Not unless I started talking about the rules. And I can't just not talk about them."
"The Guard aren't like that." Fox assured him. They all understood how important it was to follow rules. He had thought that Dogma knew that by now.
"I know." Dogma had his voice back under control again, but his hands were shaking now. "But I don't think hurting the guards is going to get them to like me."
Fox blinked. He really wished he understood Dogma's thought process right now, because this conversation was getting hard to follow. "You're not going to hurt them."
Dogma's knees locked, and he still wouldn't get out of attention. Fox wanted to grab his arm and make him relax, but he was scared that touching him right now was just going to make him break down completely.
"I will." Dogma said plainly. "If someone's upset after a hard day, they need comfort. They don't need someone to remind them that we were engineered to overcome stress easier than natborns can. They definitely don't need to be told that we were created to serve the Republic, and it is our duty to serve with everything we have, and anything less is unacceptable."
Fox just stared at Dogma. "That's what you want to say?"
"That kind of reminder helps me." Dogma said. That in and of itself was concerning. "But I know it won't help the others. It will just make them feel worse. So it's better that I keep my opinions to myself.
Dogma finally shifted his eyes a little to the left so he was looking right at Fox. It was like looking at a cry for help. "But I want to help our brothers. I want to keep them safe, and happy, but I can't do it with my words the way that everybody else does. I've been trying to say it with actions, but-"
"But I'm not allowing it." Fox sighed. He couldn't let Dogma take more shifts, and he would probably have to restrict the number of times he could give up his sleep. It was Fox' job to make sure that Dogma took care of himself, even if he had to take away the kid's way of expressing his affection, and that killed him.
Fox finally reached out and put a hand on Dogma's shoulder. The kid seemed to crumble under his touch. His soldier demeanor fell. He collapsed against Fox, who put his arm protectively around him.
"I don't know how to be a vod." Dogma whimpered. "I only have one. I only had Tup, but I wasn't good enough for him. I know I wasn't. He overlooked so many things that he shouldn't have had to. I'm trying to be better this time around. I know how I messed up, but I can't figure out how to be better."
Fox really didn't think Dogma needed to change at all, but if he thought that actions spoke louder than words, then maybe this wasn't something that Fox could just tell him. He needed to show him, and he thought he knew how.
"Come with me, Vod'ika." Fox said. He pulled away from the kid, but kept a hand on his shoulder. Dogma let him lead him out of the room, not saying a word about where they were going and why. He just trusted Fox.
They returned to the sleeping quarters. Of course, they drew attention to themselves. Fox didn't walk around without his helmet, and they all knew how to recognize when a brother was upset, and Dogma was the very picture of it.
"Is it time for a vod pile?" A trooper named Sludge asked. He was one of Dogma's bunkmates. He was the one that Dogma had given his bed up for. Sludge probably appreciated the extra hour of sleep offered, but if a vod needed help, he wouldn't hesitate to offer it.
"Yes, I think so." Fox said. He pulled Dogma towards the side of the room where they kept room for painting sessions and vod piles. He dragged the kid to the floor, where brothers were already starting to gather blankets and pillows. Dogma looked uneasy, but he didn't pull away.
"This isn't necessary." Dogma said quietly. "I don't want to be an inconvenience."
"If we were doing this for anybody else, would you think it was an inconvenience?" Fox asked. Dogma pursed his lips and shook his head. "So why is it different when it comes to you?"
Dogma didn't look convinced, but he didn't have an argument. He stayed quiet as the brothers started to gather around. Dogma was stiff and still as Fox held him close, bringing him into a position similar to what the kid had done with the armor before. Sludge and some others joined them on the floor.
Ever so slowly, Dogma began to relax against him. He closed his eyes and laid back against Fox.
"I think you're a way better vod than you think you are." Fox said. The very fact that Dogma was trying so hard was proof enough of that. It was more than a lot of other brothers did. He suspected that at least part of the reason why Dogma didn't know what to say or do to be a 'good brother' was because he hadn't had a lot of experience being the recipient of that kind of thing. He didn't have enough good examples to base his behavior off of.
Fox thought that Dogma put far too much pressure on himself, but if the kid felt like he needed some help or guidance, they could show him.
Later Fox would talk to Dogma about things he could do to help their vode without hurting himself. He could help the kid recognize that his words weren't as toxic as his brothers in the 501st had led him to believe. He knew the kid was a good soldier, and he knew Dogma knew it too, but while that was what they'd been created for, they had been made as brothers. It came naturally to all of them. Dogma just needed to let himself feel it.
Fox had a lot of work that he needed to do that day. He'd had to meet with the Chancellor the day before, so he was already behind on work. He was always behind on his work though. Right then, holding Dogma and making sure he knew that he belonged, whether he knew how to express his affection or not, that was the most important thing that Fox could do that day.