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Pursuit of Humanity Chp.3 (Wolffe x Reader)

Chapter 2.

Doing the Right Thing

Warnings: Wolffe x Reader, Commander Fox, Republic politics, Reader is a senator, incorrect military procedure, talk of clone trooper torture, clone trooper dehumanization, Discussion of decommissioning, reader insert, minimally proofread, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

Many thousands of clones have been sent to Kamino for decommissioning so far. 

Clone who lost limbs. Suffered permanent injuries. Missing eyes or lost hearing. 

Wounds that could be helped. Cybernetics. Prosthetics. Hearing aids.

The amount seemed small in comparison to the millions that made up the Grand Army of the Republic. But for every injured clone, there were many others who died in battle. Those who perished from their wounds on ships and in medical bays.

So many lives lost…

The life of a clone trooper seemed to be filled with nothing but sacrifice. 

“Senator?” 

You perked up, forgetting Commander Fox and Commander Wolffe were standing in front of your desk. You called the Coruscant Guard to discuss the numbers of men under his command and funding required to make sure their needs were met.

You were…flabbergasted to say the least. 

The Coruscant Guard were the least funded of all clone trooper branches. Medical care was minimal. Long hours of no rest. Too few men for the whole planet.

It took them months to get a single bacta tank. 

It was worse than you thought. 

“Yes, thank you, Commander Fox.” You put the datapad down, and rubbed your face in your hands. At this point, you didn’t care for senatorial decorum in front of any clone trooper, “Theoretically, if you were to be given more men, how would you handle it?”

You could tell that under his helmet, Fox was surprised by the question, “I’d be able to take some weight off the others, Senator.”

You nodded and stood, turning your back to the clones in order to look out of the window to Coruscant, “Would you be able to accommodate a clone with say…hearing loss? Or a prosthetic arm? Or missing an eye?”

“...possibly, yes. Why do you ask, Senator?"

You kept your hands behind your back, turning to face your lover and his brother in red. “Wolffe trusts you, and so do I.” You walk around your desk to face them, “Clones with permanent injuries are sent to Kamino for decommissioning. I plan to put a bill on the floor of the Senate that would have these clones sent to Coruscant instead. Be reassigned to become guards, law enforcement, fire rescue or even EMS.” You had come up with the idea on the way to Coruscant. Clone troopers just wanted to help the Republic. They were soldiers, but they were adaptable and ready to serve.

You didn’t miss Wolffe’s proud smirk. 

Commander Fox nodded slowly, “If they’d take clones.” 

Fuck.

You entirely forgot that not everyone is willing to work with clone troopers. 

“...These services are notoriously understaffed,” You cleared your throat, trying to hide the fact that the Coruscant Commander caught you in a weakness, “Especially with the war. Many of these workers had joined non-clone legions, leaving these services in the hands of subpar droids.”

You made a mental note to speak to some of these staff members in order to get a better grasp of the situation. 

Fox crossed his arms but didn’t say anything. 

“Ok, you got me.” You sighed, leaning against your desk, “Theoretically speaking, do you think it could work.” 

“The Coruscant Guard would gladly take all of our injured brothers.” The commander in red responded, “The main concern is cost, Senator.”

“That’s why I’d like to bolster other emergency services, so there's less financial strain,” You explained further, “Clones are hardworking and determined. Law enforcement, Fire Rescue, EMS…they’d all be lucky to have you.”

Fox kept his arms crossed, but he turned his head to face Wolffe, “Val ruusaanyc?”

Are they trustworthy?

You’d bristle at such a question normally, but given how much the clone troopers suffer…You understood his uncertainty about your intentions. 

“Elek.” Wolffe nodded, helping to ease Fox’s worry. 

Yes.

“Vor entye, Wolffe.” You gave him a grateful smile. 

Thank you, Wolffe.

Fox snapped his head to you so quickly you thought he pulled a muscle in his neck. He stood at attention, becoming rigid. Back straight. Arms at his sides. 

For some reason, his movements reminded you of a trauma response. As if afraid of severe punishment.

Before he could ask, you spoke, “Ni ru'baj'hibi Mando’a par gar vode.”

I learned mando’a for your siblings.

He cleared his throat, "Forgive me, Senator.”

“It’s fine, Fox.” You tried to calm him, hopefully help him relax in your presence. Perhaps you should have stayed silent. It would allow the commander to have some comfort and privacy in front of you, “But I still need your honest opinion. I don’t want to cause issues for the Coruscant Guard.”

He still didn’t relax, even after your attempt to calm him down, “Respectfully, Senator, in a perfect world, I would like to say yes,” The commander was genuine in his answer, “However, I can’t be certain at this moment.”

This was far from a perfect world.

Wolffe watched you, eyes narrowing suddenly. He looked at you inquisitively. Scanning and inspecting. 

You caught his expression, but didn’t let it distract you.

“I understand,” You nodded and stood straight, “I’m sure you're busy, so don’t let me keep you any further.” Your tone was polite and kind as you gave a respectful bow, “Thank you, Commander.”

Commander Fox saluted, “At your service, Senator.” He bid his farewell and stiffly walked out of your office. 

All that remained was you and your lover. 

“You haven’t slept.” Wolffe didn’t even give you a chance to speak, “You need sleep, kar’ta.”

You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your palms, “Is it that obvious?”

It probably was, honestly. As soon as the 104th returned to Coruscant, you immediately got to work contacting your allies and pulling your strings. So far, you had a few Senators that were already on your side with this bill just on the basis of their clone trooper support. Others owed you a favor, and they didn’t seem to care if this bill passed or not.

He took a couple steps towards you, moving your hands away to hold your face, “Mesh’la…” He tsk’ed. 

“I’m not a child, my dear,” You sighed, “I know my limits.”

“Doesn’t mean you should try and exceed them. You're not a clone trooper.”

There it was. 

You are an outsider. 

You looked away, “I know.” Your body turned from him to stare back out to Coruscant. You had too many thoughts. But one thing ate away at your very heart. 

Were you inserting yourself where you weren’t wanted? The clones had a system in place. Expectations that they followed. Would you break this system and leave chaos in its wake?

You didn’t have much time to ponder, as Wolffe took you out of your thoughts, “Talk to me.”

“I want to do the right thing,” You looked back at him, “But…will I be making things worse for you and your vode?” You were honest with him. No use in hiding your true feelings on the matter. On paper, your ideas made sense.

But in practice? You just weren’t sure. 

Things were much clearer as a medic on the battlefield. Droids were the enemy. Serious wounds needed bacta. Minor wounds needed bandages or sutures. Shoot any who dared harm your patients. Keep your fellow soldiers alive.

But here? In the Senate Chambers?

Your allies could become your enemies depending on the bill put in front of you. Your fellow senators would stab you in the back to get to the bottomline. Power and money had more weight than empathy and humanity. 

“Speak to more of my siblings,” He checked his silently blinking com, indicating he had to leave soon. However, he still stepped up next to your right side, “Not just in the 104th or Coruscant Guard. But to the other battalions.” His voice was kind and loving, “If you rest tomorrow, I’ll go with you to the barracks.”

You snorted, “Are you…bribing me, Commander?”

“Bribery and blackmail is the language of politics, I’ve noticed.” 

“You’re not wrong.” You mumbled, though you couldn’t hide your smile, “You make this job bearable, you know that right?”

He put a hand on your shoulder, “Why don’t you resign? You hate this job.”

“Obligation to my planet and its people,” Your answer was honest. Despite your hate for your position, you did love your home planet. Your citizens deserved representation in the Senate, and your voice had been loud enough to be heard a few times already. “I certainly won’t be running for a re-election though.”

“I’d vote for you.”

“You better not.”

He laughed. It was a rare sound from the normally professional and serious commander. His eyes, real and cybernetic, held a loving fondness, “Get some rest, Senator.” He stepped away from you and made it to the door of your office, “I mean it.”

You watched him go, only turning back to the window after he had left your office. He was right, you needed rest, and the recent 'excitement' left you worn and exhausted. 

Wolffe was right…

[awkward-tension-art]

Pursuit of Humanity Chp.2 (Wolffe x Reader)

Chapter 1. Chapter 3.

Hiding Place

Warnings: Wolffe x Reader, Reader is a medic, reader is a senator, incorrect military procedure, talk of clone trooper torture, Sinker and Boost cause some nonsense, clone trooper dehumanization, mentions of 501st surgeon reader, reader insert, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

The trip to Coruscant was a blur. 

You stayed in either the medical bay, or your quarters. The shame of your ignorance made you too sick to eat or sleep. 

And so did staring into the eyes of the men you unknowingly betrayed. 

The guilt ate at you. Every clone that lost a limb, lost their sight or hearing, or became disabled in some way was sent back to Kamino to be tortured and killed. To have their mind broken and wiped. 

Wolffe told you what happened to them. They’d become mindless. Numb. Empty. Put to work doing menial tasks to keep Kamino functioning or used in agonizing experiments until their bodies failed them.

Or until they regained enough of themselves to end their lives.

The only solace you held was that General Plo Koon always requested any disabled clones to return to the 104th. Apparently he had known early on what happened on Kamino, so clones would be fitted with prosthetics, hearing aids or other such things and returned to their brothers in the battalion. They worked maintenance, flew as pilots or even returned as soldiers if able. After all, Commander Wolffe has a cybernetic eye, so any trooper was able to return among the ranks once recovered.

Maybe that’s why you assumed those who suffered chronic or everlasting injury weren’t thrown away like droids. Maybe that’s why you didn’t bother to dig deeper. Plo Koon valued his men. This Legion, the 104th, valued their brothers. So you just remained ignorant. 

But others?

You didn’t know.

When you treated soldiers from other legions…The 501st, the 212th, the 612th, the 41st…

Did you patch them up just for their generals to send them to a state worse than death? You couldn’t imagine General Skywalker or General Kenobi allowing it, but you never noticed any trooper with missing limbs under their command. 

Did the 501st surgeon know? 

You couldn’t be sure.

Self loathing swallowed you for days for your ignorance. You mostly sat at your desk, trying to read the datapads containing the Senator work you’ve been putting off. Your undecorated, sterile quarters didn’t offer much help for your mood either. 

That was, until Sinker knocked on your door. He had a cup of caf in one hand and Wolffe’s helmet in the other. Boost was behind him, giving a sheepish wave.

“Senator.” The Sergeant greeted with a smirk, “Mind if we hide out here?” He raised the cup, “I have payment.”

With a snort, you nodded, “Playing a prank again?”

“Yep.” Boost nodded.

“Good men,” You let out a small laugh, “Come on in.”

The two of them stepped inside and closed the door. Sinker put the hot cup of caf on your desk before stepping towards your bed. With a small ‘thank you’ you greedily drank down the caf. It’s been the first and only thing you were able to keep down in the last few days. 

Sinker sat on your bed, Boost next to him, twirling Wolffe’s helmet in his hands, “Are you ok, Senator?” 

“You know we’ve survived Abregado together. You don’t have to call me Senator.” Your words were stern but not unkind. Though, you knew whatever you said wouldn’t change anything. They were soldiers by nature, and thus, they followed protocol.

“The Commander constantly tells us to show you respect.” Boost responded, plopping on his side to lay on your bed fully, “And you didn’t answer the question.” His tone was that of someone who caught a sneak thief. Victorious and a tad smug.

“Mir'sheb.” you retorted to the relaxed trooper.

Smartass.

Sinker rested his face in his palm, he kept quiet, waiting for you to speak first. No questions. No wanting answers. Just quiet patience from the sergeant. Boost shifting, laying on his back, one hand behind his head. 

After a few comfortable moments of silent work, you sighed, “Why didn’t anyone tell me that disabled clones get decommissioned?"

It was like you flipped a switch. Boost's relaxed attitude was gone and he sat up. Sinker visibility tensed, hands still on Wolffe’s helmet, holding it carefully, “Senator…”

“Please…I just need the truth.” 

“It's…not something we talk about.” He sighed, not meeting your eyes. His words sent an emotional spike through your entire body, “No one likes to bring it up,” He explained, “For some generals, they don’t care where we end up. Many of us just…don’t talk about it.”

“You're my friends!” You snapped, standing up suddenly. The chair behind you clattered to the ground, “You're my friends and I….I assumed everything was fine…”

The both of them stood, Wolffe’s helmet hit the ground bouncing once. It rolled, hitting the side of your foot silently. The empty visor stared up at you, as if taunting you. Reminding you of your guilt and shame.

Wolffe was screaming. His eye was gone. Ventress had attacked. You tried to help, but he shoved you away, “Don’t touch me!” He shouted, a haunted, wild look in his uninjured gaze. His siblings surrounded him. Protected him from any outsider.

It was days later that you found out Ventress had stolen more from Wolffe than just his eye.

He could have been decommissioned for physical and mental wounds. Had General Plo been even slightly less empathetic, you would have lost him. 

“I should know if by helping I’m condemning someone to-” A drop of water hit your desk and it took you a moment to realize that you were crying. Your emotions have gotten the better of you again…

“I’m sorry.” You looked away from your two friends, “I shouldn’t have snapped.” 

A gentle hand was on your shoulder, “S’ok vod.” Sinker responded, and you could hear the sad smirk in his voice, "Decommissioning is so we don’t burden the Republic. We’re…made to be replaceable.”

“Not to me.” You whispered, looking back at your friend.

Plo Koon said the same thing after the Malevolence attack.

You sighed and turned to pick up your chair, “None of you are replaceable.”

“Kamino seems to think so.” 

“Fuck Kamino.”

Boost chimed in, sitting back down, “And some people on the Senate.” 

“Fuck them too.” You snapped back, fixing your seat and sitting back down at your desk. Rubbing your temple didn’t help the blooming headache. 

“And this is why the Commander loves you.” Sinker snorted, kneeling down to pick up the helmet. He dusted off the top of it before returning to his spot on your mattress, “I’m pretty sure your attitude is what got him attracted to you in the first place.”

Oh. Shit.

With wide eyes, you cleared your throat, “You uh…you know?”

“Senator, everytime you're not around Wolffe sighs a lot. And I mean a lot.” Boost sassed, laying back down on your bed, “All sad and lonely.”

Sinker decided to add, “He also looks all dejected whenever you're busy with the Senate back on Coruscant.” His tone was jovial, clearly enjoying taking the piss out of their commander, “It’s obvious.”

“How long have you known?” How obvious were you two? That could put Wolffe at risk if some other than his siblings noticed. Even General Plo couldn’t save the commander if Kamino demanded him back.

“I saw you two together after the Malevolence attack,” Boost answered honestly, “Then I told Sinker. No one else knows, and if someone did, they didn’t get it from us.”

Well…damn. They’ve known from the very beginning? You and Wolffe were careful. But apparently not careful enough.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, there was another knock on your door, “Senator, I’m looking for Boost and Sinker.” Wolffe’s voice and tone was stern and impatient. He knew you were the ‘go-to’ whenever the men decided to participate in nonsense.

Speak of the lover, and he shall appear. 

“Come in, Wolffe.” You answered with a sly smirk and shortly after, the door to your quarters opened.

Commander Wolffe stood in the doorway, one brow raised. He looked befuddled seeing the two troopers relaxing your bed with you at your desk. However, his gaze changed to irritation seeing his helmet in their possession. 

“Give it back, utreekov.”

fool.

“Betrayed by our own vod!” Sinker put his hands up and let the commander snatch back his helmet, “We thought we could trust you, Senator.” 

“The Senator knows when to pick sides.” Wolffe sassed, tucking his found helmet under his right arm.

“Aye, of course they picked the side of their cyare.” Boost snickered but immediately sat up back straight when the commander shot him a glare. 

You wished you could come up with a snarky response. But there was still one thought plaguing you right now. 

If anyone else found out your relationship...Wolffe would be a risk. Sent back to Kamino and…

Decommissioned.

Your mood wasn’t missed by your kar’ta. He looked over to you and put a loving hand on your back, “ba'slana, vode.”

Leave, brothers.

Sinker and Boost scattered quickly. They bid you respectful farewells before leaving both of you alone. 

“Kar’ta?”

“I’m thinking, Wolffe.”

He leaned against your desk, crossing his arms, “Senate problems back home?”

“No…Just me problems.” 

You didn’t need to look up at him to know he was looking at you. There was a silence between you. Another comfortable moment that let you form your thoughts. He didn’t push or pry, waiting for you to speak first.

After gathering your thoughts, you took a deep breath and looked up at him, “The defeat on Nurosia. I did my best to save every soldier I could.” You mumbled, “There was a 501st soldier. His arm was destroyed and the surgeon and I had to amputate.” 

Wolffe nodded, but didn’t speak, allowing you to continue.

“He begged for us to kill him. And I didn’t know why. Not until a 212th soldier with an injured leg cried to be saved from decommissioning. In the medical bay,” You noticed your throat got tight again. As a senator, you should be more in control of your emotions, but right now…

“How many soldiers have I saved, just to send them to more suffering on Kamino?” 

“With our battalion? None, they’ve all been returned after recovery.” 

“With other battalions?”

“I…don’t know the exact numbers.”

You swallowed, “I’m sorry.” 

Your lover shifted, turning to kneel. His armored hands held yours in his so gently, and his eyes met yours, “Don’t apologize, cyar'ika.” There honestly in his gaze. Even his cybernetic eye held a deep love for you, “You’ve saved so many of my vode on the battlefield. So many of us owe our lives to you.”

You squeezed his hands, looking down at the kneeling commander. The guilt still clung to your heart, but buried beneath it was protectiveness. A deep need to defend these soldiers you called friends and family. 

“It needs to stop.” you muttered, “Decommissioning. It needs to stop.”

Wolffe nodded slowly, interlocking your fingers with his, “Do you have a plan?” 

How would you stop such an inhumane process? 

You could use your voice in the Senate. Your allies and connections could back you up, help you put something on the floor. You were not above turning in favors or pulling strings either. You were already planning. Strategizing. Coming up with something to stop Kamino from torturing any more clones. 

“I need a meeting with the Coruscant Guard.”

[awkward-tension-art]

Pursuit of Humanity Chp. 1 (Wolffe x Reader)

Heyo! So, Ruins of a Republic doesn't have a designated 'end' right now. It's somewhat on the backburner for now. However, I REALLY wanted to write Wolffe x Reader. SO! Please enjoy another part of Caduceus!

Caduceus Series!

Chapter 2.

Decommission

Warnings: Wolffe x Reader, Reader is a medic, reader is a senator, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, clone trooper dehumanization, mentions of 501st surgeon reader, reader insert, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

“Tourniquet!” 

“I need bacta, now!” 

“We’re losing Scramble. I need epi, 2 mics.”

Disaster. 

That's the only way you could describe the most recent battle. 

Everything was going well on Nurosia. But surprise reinforcements overwhelmed absolutely everyone on the planet. General Plo Koon called for an evacuation, essentially losing the battle and leaving the planet to the Separatists. 

Generals Kenobi and Skywalker were forced to retreat, along with Commander Tano and what was left of the 501st and 212th. 

The 104th, your legion, had luckily managed to come out with minimal losses.

“Hey, I need a cauterizer,” You shouted, your hands currently keeping the hemorrhaging thigh of a 212th trooper closed.

The surgeon of the 501st whistled, and tossed the tool across the medical bay. You caught it, and immediately got to work closing the wound. 

You weren’t a marvel with surgery like they were. In fact, your expertise was that of a standard combat medic. Shoot droids and patch-up the soldiers well enough so they made it to Hesion, the 104ths surgeon, or back to the ship's med bay. 

But given the amount of injuries, it was all hands on deck. General Plo graciously gave the 501st and 212th whatever medical professionals he could. Which was you and some medical droids. 

A hand was on your shoulder and you looked up at the soldier. His brown eyes were wide and wild, “Please…” He begged, “Save my leg.”

“Don’t worry, I got you.” You tried to calm him, “It’s alright. You’ll-”

“Don’t let them decommission me.” He begged, “If I lose my leg…”

Those words startled you. 

Decommission…?

Before you could be certain, a clatter grabbed your attention. Kix, the 501st medic, was on the ground. He attempted to get up, but collapsed fully. 

“Kix!” 

“Medic down!” You called, before looking back at the trooper you were treating, “Your leg will be fine.” Your hands quickly went to his, guiding his palms over his own wound, “Hold pressure just like that, I’ll be right back.” 

Without waiting, you bolted to the downed clone's side. Immediately, you ripped off his helmet and inspected his face. His skin was clammy, and there were dark circles all around his sunken eyes. 

Kix mumbled incoherently, “S-sorry…M’fine…” 

Head injury. Severe. 

“Was he hit?” You looked up at the 212th medic who knelt beside you. 

“Caught in a blast, I think.” They responded, securing his head and neck with a collar. 

Fuck.

“Get him on a bed,” The 501st surgeon didn’t even look up from their own work on another clone trooper, “Idiot got hurt and ignored it. I’ll have a damn word with him later.”

With a head and neck injury, you had to handle the trooper like fragile glass. Once Kix was on a bed and being scanned by a med-driod, you got back to the 212th soldier you were originally treating.

Your mind zoned in, returning to work. This is what you wanted to do. No political scheming could take you away from the troopers you treated. At least not while you were on the ship. 

Once you got back to Coruscant however…

Well….You’ve put off the senatorial datapad work long enough. 

Truthfully, you weren’t looking forward to it. You didn’t even want to be a senator. Yet because of the political dealings of your family, you were taken from your job as an emergency room doctor and put as a representative to your planet's senator.

Not even a year later she retired and made you the Senator of your home planet.

Whatever your family did, you hated them for it. They stole you away from your dreams and desires to put themselves first.

Before your thoughts were flooded with loathing, “Senator…” The soldier got your attention again, “Are…Am i…?”

You looked up at him, noticing the building tears of terror. Despite the situation, you gave a small, reassuring smile, “No nerve damage. Normal blood flow. Your leg will be fine. But I’m putting you on bed rest until it’s healed. Suvarir?” 

Understand?

His relief was palpable, “Thank you, Senator.”

You sent him out of the med bay, and got to another clone trooper. Broken ribs. Stabilize. Move on. 

Another trooper had a bad burn right on his carotid. Thankfully the critical artery was fine, but you still handed him with extreme care. One wrong move, he dies. Once patched up, you moved to another soldier. 

Everything outside of the medical bay didn’t matter. You had priorities, and right now, they were all the injured troopers. 

It took several hours before the 501st surgeon had everything under control. With the 212th medic, and Kix back on his feet, they no longer needed your services. And thus, you were dismissed to return to your own legion.

“Thank you, Senator.” They nodded respectfully, “I can take everything from here.” 

“Of course, doctor.” You saluted before taking your leave and stepping into the hall. Once outside, you were greeted by Wolffe speaking with Captain Rex and Commander Cody. They were in the middle of a conversation. 

“You did as well as you could, vod’ika.” The 104th commander put an armored hand on the captain's shoulder, “After this, some rest will do you and your men good.”

Rex nodded, “Aye…ah, Senator!” The blonde clone saluted, standing at attention respectfully the moment he noticed you. Cody remained silent, saluting you in respect.

Wolffe perked up as well, “Cya-Senator.” he cleared his throat, “I’ve come to escort you back to the ship.”

You didn’t miss the 501st captain's raised brow at his older vod. 

“Thank you, Wolffe.” You smiled softly before addressing the other trooper, “Captain, you have a fine doctor in your ranks.”

 The way his brown eyes lit up at the mention of the surgeon was cute.

And dangerously obvious.

Those in the Wolf Pack have informed their fear of decommissioning. Of failing and returning to Kamino to be mind broken. Clones who were deemed ‘unruly’ or ‘disobedient’. Clones who failed in their objectives.

Clones in romantic relationships.

Any flaw. Any weakness was to be stamped out. As was ruled by the Kaminoans and several Jedi Generals such as Pong Krell and Quinlan Vos.

To his credit, Rex managed to repress any other indications of his feelings, “Thank you, Senator.” He steeled himself well, similar to how your Commander did when privacy was interrupted.

Before you could say anything else, Wolffe cut in, “Shall we go, Senator? We need to get back to the ship.”

You and the Commander bid your farewells to Rex and Cody before taking a LAAT back to General Plo’s ship. Once the doors closed, giving you and him some privacy, his helmet was off and his lips were on yours. 

In front of others, the Wolf Packs commander was stern, professional and strict.

But in private? He was…more passionate. More emotional. More open. At least with you. Somehow, he lowered his walls for you.

His hand was at your lower back, pulling you closer to his armored chest. He moved his face back to breathe your name before kissing you again. 

You wanted to enjoy his attention, but there was something eating away at your mind.

“Hm..”Wolffe.” You mumbled between his lips, “Wolffe, I need-”

“Duumi ni murcyur gar baar.” He mumbled, words mumbling into mando’a, “gedet'ye…” 

Damn, he was certainly voracious.

You pulled back, cupping his face in your hands, “Pare.” Your command was in his tongue, slipping into Mando’a.

Wait.

Your secret lover huffed, but listened to your want. You watched his eyes, both his natural brown and white cybernetic, roam your form. He scanned for injuries or discomfort, “Me'vaar ti gar?”

Outside, the LAAT landed in the busy hangar, and through the metal doors, you heard the activity. You both safely made it back to Plo Koon’s ship. Before the doors could open, Wolffe stepped away from you and put his helmet back on.

Back to professionalism.

Mando’a left you. Your self-teaching only took you so far, “I’m fine. But…I need to ask…” 

The doors opened, and he stepped off before you. However, once on the Venator, he turned to offer a hand. 

You took his hand and stepped off onto the hangar floor, “Commander.” Your voice was nearly drowned out by the activity around you. Ship maintenance, supply crates being moved. It was loud, but you were still heard.

“Yes, Senator?” His confusion was clear. Behind him, Boost and Sinker were waiting for the both of you. However, when they noticed you didn’t move, they approached.

“When an injured clone is sent to Kamino,” You begged for answers with your eyes, “Do they get decommissioned?”

Have you sent wonderful, determined, kind men to their deaths?

Wolffe didn’t immediately answer. His shoulders went slack, as if caught in a lie. 

“Yes.”

[awkward-tension-art]

Will I finish Ruins of a Republic?

Not sure!

Will I write another part of Caduceus with Commander Wolffe?

Yes!

[awkward-tension-art]

Ruins of a Republic Chp.10 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 9.

Clone Force 99

Warnings: Depression, grief, trauma, death, ptsd, mentions of dead clones, hallucinations, Pong Krell mentioned, there's some fluff if you squint, Reader on reader violence, reader is medic/doctor, reader insert, Reader x Rex, Reader meets the reader from Viral Vector

Ord Mantell

A planet in the Mid Rim System. Home to the Black Sun crime syndicate. Formerly the headquarters for the Republic's 8th Sector Army. 

Also home to a Jedi informant named ‘Cid.’

Other than that, you didn’t know anything else about the planet. 

Luckily, Rex’s ship got you there without issue, and the both of you managed to find Cid’s bar. Your heads were down, keeping a low profile until you could properly meet Clone Force 99. 

You watched them split off, Echo, Hunter and Tech followed an older trandoshan while carrying some type of crate into a backroom. Wrecker, with a child, rushed from the bar to the outside behind them was a nat-born in a Kaminoan uniform that screamed scientist.

Fives’ hackles were raised, “I̸ ̴w̴o̶n̵d̷e̶r̴ ̶i̷f̵ ̸t̶h̶e̷y̵ ̸k̵n̴e̶w̴ ̸a̶b̷o̵u̸t̴ ̵t̸h̸o̷s̵e̸ ̶f̷u̵c̸k̴i̶n̴g̶ ̴c̵h̷i̶p̵s̵.̷”

You raised your cup to your lips, eyes on the door, ‘If they did, I will kill them.’ 

Rex cast a glance at you, “Cyare.” He whispered, “Are they bothering you?”

Silently, you nodded. On the way here you had confided in Rex about the hallucinations. You told him how you were haunted by the dead in your waking hours, and how they spoke to you. 

Admittedly, you hadn’t yet told him that it was his form that you chased to your near death. You’d keep that to yourself, knowing he’d probably feel guilty for something entirely outside his control.

Rex placed his hand over yours and gave a small squeeze. He was subtle, but no matter what either of you did, it seemed you were destined to be haggled. 

A Weequay and Ithorian approached. They looked both agitated and drunk. 

“Hey!” The Ithorian snapped, leaning forward, “You're in our seats! Move it!” His words were garbled and slurred, clearly inebriated.

Neither of you made a move. 

“Oh, they’re ignoring you!” The Weequay egged his friend on, elbowing his side. 

“You hearin’ me!?” The taller being continued with his ire, now fueled by his compatriot, “I said move it!” He raised one finger and pointed, practically shoving it in Rex’s face. 

Again, your kar’ta didn’t bother to move. That was, until the Ithorian shoved his longer finger into your face.

“Are you deaf-?”

In a flash, Rex stood, backhanding the alien. Once the irate alien had stumbled back, he raised his blaster, firing it. The bolt grazed just next to the Weequay’s eye, forcing a cry from the other drunk. 

You got to your feet, raising your own blaster and firing it. The bolt was a warning, barely missing the Ithorian’s large left shoulder. 

‘That sobered them up.’ You thought, lowering your weapon as the drunk duo rushed from the bar. They weren’t the only ones, as the blaster fire cleared out the building of any other patrons. Though, the scuffled got the attention of Clone Force 99, as they ran into the room with their own weapons raised.

“Hey, what's going on in here?!” The elderly Trandoshan stepped into the bar from the backroom. She shoved Hunter aside as she leaned against her walking stick, “Who are you?” She demanded. 

You shared a look with Rex before the both of you lowered your hoods. 

Echo gasped your name, stepping forward, “And…Rex?” 

You could see how your love softened, coming face-to-face with one of his oldest friends. 

“Oh, great. More drifters. Just what I needed.” The Trandoshan spat, “Well, don't get comfy. I'm done taking in strays.” She turned, waddling back into her, what you assumed, was her office, “This ain't a clone clubhouse, ya know. Unbelievable. Thinkin' they own the place.” 

Hunter spoke as soon as she was gone, “Captain.” He addressed Rex specifically, stepping towards the both of you. 

“It’s been a while, boys.”

Echo stepped forward, eyes wide and confused, “Where have you been, Rex?” Before he could finish his question you practically dashed forward, wrapping your old friend into a tight hug. 

The former ARC trooper let out a surprised breath before greeting you warmly, “It’s good to see you too, Doc.” He returned your hug with his own one-armed embrace, “But…what happened to the two of you?”

"̸G̵o̸o̶d̴ ̴t̴o̵ ̸s̴e̵e̵ ̴y̶o̵u̸ ̸a̵g̴a̵i̵n̴,̸ ̷v̸o̴d̸.̶"̵ Fives chuckled somewhere behind you. 

“It’s…a long story.” Rex answered him honestly. 

“Come on, you can tell us.” Hunter motioned for the two of you to sit down at the bar, “It looks like you both have been through the worst of it.”

“Haven’t we all?” You mumbled pulling back from Echo and sitting down. Tech poured you and Rex a drink as the former captain explained everything he had been doing. You occasionally spoke up with news about the Empire and its military now. 

Rex sighed, “And when the war ended, I guess you could say I've been... keeping a low profile.” 

“Very low. Imperial files have you listed as killed in action.” Tech chimed in, datapad in hand. 

“Being dead in the Empires eyes has its advantages,” He responded, raising his cup to his lips, but stopped to tap it against Echos drink. 

“How’d you track us down?” The former ARC trooper asked. 

“Trace and Rafa Martez. They said a squad of rogue clones helped them on Corellia.” He answered honestly before turning in his chair to lean against the bartop, “They told me I could find you here.” He was about to speak before you cut him off. 

“Who's the scientist in the Kaminoan uniform?” your question had an uncharacteristic amount of venom to it. 

“I was going to ask about the kid.” Rex gave you a concerned glance before turning to look at Hunter. 

The squad sergeant answered both questions, “Omega. She's a clone like us. And the doctor you saw is-”

“Well look who it is!” Wrecker’s laughter interrupted everyone. He was in the doorway, a wide and bright smile on his face. Behind him was the scientist and the little girl Omega. 

Before either you or Rex said anything, the larger clones' arms were around the both of you in a tight hug. He lifted you from your seats, laughing happily as he did so. 

All you could do was wheeze a ‘hello’ when Rex grunted out, “Yeah. Good to see you too, Wrecker.”

Echo got up behind you, and approached the scientist. You could see over Wreckers shoulder as the former ARC trooper greeted them with a peck on the forehead. There was a deep fondness in his pale brown eyes. 

Oh!

"̵F̴u̷c̸k̶ ̴y̸e̴s̷ ̵E̸c̷h̸o̸!̶"̵ ̴ Fives cheered, "̸"̶I̵'̵m̸ ̸s̶o̸ ̵p̸r̴o̷u̶d̶!̷ ̶m̸y̷ ̴v̶o̴d̶ ̴i̵s̷ ̴f̸i̷n̴a̷l̴l̶y̷ ̵g̵e̵t̸t̶i̷n̸g̴ ̸l̷a̸i̷d̵!̴"̶

"̵A̸t̶t̶a̴ ̸b̶o̴y̴!̸"̵ Jesse chimed, one arm draped over Fives’ shoulder.

“I thought you didn't like the regs,” A voice asked from beside Wreckers feet. Your eyes drifted down to the small child, possibly around 12 years old. Her blonde hair was kept short, and her clothing indicated the same Kaminoan background as the other scientist you were originally suspicious of. 

So she’s a clone…Since when did Kaminoans make little girl clones?

“This one we like!” The larger clone answered, putting you and Rex down. 

You could hear the breath of relief from your kar’ta, but he knelt, coming to eye level with Omega. 

“Omega,” Hunter properly introduced the two of you, “This is Rex, and with him is the medic who saved Echo’s life during the war.” He spoke your name with a friendliness you didn’t think you had earned from the Bad Batch yet. 

Kix had his arms crossed, looking at you from the otherside of the bar, “"̶O̵n̴l̸y̴ ̷y̸o̵u̷ ̵c̸o̷u̸l̸d̸ ̸h̵a̷v̴e̴ ̷s̵t̵o̷p̵p̵e̸d̸ ̵h̸i̴s̷ ̷n̴e̶u̷r̴o̴-̸c̸r̵a̸s̴h̵.̸"̵ ̵ Your old medic friend sounded proud, "̸I̷t̷ ̴w̵a̸s̵ ̵b̸a̸d̵,̸ ̶t̵h̴e̴ ̷f̸i̴r̶s̸t̵ ̵f̶e̷w̶ ̷d̷a̵y̴s̷ ̷a̶f̴t̷e̵r̷ ̸S̸k̷a̴k̷o̵ ̷M̶i̴n̶o̸r̷.̷"̴

You knelt beside Rex, giving a small smile and nod to the little girl. A quick flick of your eyes up, and you could see the gratitude on the nat-born doctor's face. 

Oh they’re IN LOVE. How cute. 

“I've met many clones in my time, but never one like you.” The former captain beside you greeted her. However, he was met with silence from her as she leaned in with narrowed eyes. 

“You’re a generation one.” She asserted. 

Rex couldn’t help but smile, “Now how'd you know that?”

“From the lines on your face.”

The noise you let out was somewhere between a laugh and snort. 

Your kar’ta chuckled, “Yeah, I guess I've been around.” He looked back at the rest of the squad.

Wrecker was about to speak again but he gripped his head and groaned. He called the name of the nat-born in their squad, “I need one of those med patches.”

“We don’t have any more.” They explained, getting to the strong clones side, “These headaches are getting worse, Wrecker.” 

“And more frequent.” Echo huffed, sitting down at the bar.

You and Rex shared a look before standing, “Is that so?” The former captain tensed, hand hovering over his hip.

Your eyes narrowed, focused on Wrecker's face. Specifically, you were trying to get a good look at his pupils. 

“If you're concerned about the so-called inhibitor chips, don't be,” Tech responded, trying to ease your worries, “Our deviant nature appears to have impeded their functionality. Except in Corsshair.”

For a moment, you swear you saw Wrecker’s pupils dilate. 

Your blood ran cold.

“You haven’t removed your chips.” You gasped, uninjured hand resting over your blaster. Your attention was on their own medic, no longer trusting them. 

Did they play a part in Fives’ murder? Did they have a hand in Tup dying on Kamino?

Krell was over your shoulder, “Y̶o̷u̴ ̷c̴a̷n̶'̴t̵ ̴t̷r̴u̸s̵t̶ ̵t̴h̶e̸m̴!̸ ̸T̸h̸e̶y̸ ̵m̶i̷g̸h̶t̶ ̵b̶e̴ ̴a̷n̷ ̷e̴n̶e̶m̵y̴.̶ ̴A̴ ̸h̵y̶d̸r̸o̶s̴n̶a̷k̷e̶ ̷h̷i̶d̶i̵n̷g̵ ̵i̵n̶ ̵t̶h̷e̵ ̷r̵i̴v̵e̴r̸!̸”

Hunter stood, “Let’s all relax…”

“Those chips make you a threat to everyone around you,” Rex explained,  “To her. Even to them,” He motioned to both Omega and Echo’s lover, “You're all ticking time bombs.”

The squad leader raised his hands in surrender, “Take it easy, Captain…”

Your hand was on the grip of your blaster. You remained silent but ready to do whatever was necessary. 

“What's in your head is more dangerous than you can imagine,” Your cyare continued, “I've seen what happens when the chip activates, and I don't want to bury any more of our brothers. Trust me. It is not something you can control.” He looked down for a moment, a deep pain in his eyes before he looked back up at the other clones, “I couldn't. It's a risk you do not want to take.”

There was a thick, threatening silence from everyone.

That was, until Clone Force 99’s resident scientist broke the quiet, “How do you suggest we get them out? I have no surgical supplies. Not to mention any imaging machines…sterility…” 

They sound like a proper scientist…

You sighed, letting go of your blaster, “Sneaking onto Coruscant may not be the wisest decision…” Your braced hand held your chin in thought, “And any other medical facility will ask questions about a group of rogue clones. Not to mention we have no idea where the Empire has its eyes.” 

“How did you get your chip removed?” Echo asked, having taken a stance that was protective of his lover. You’d think it was cute if it wasn’t for the fact that he could easily kill them if that chip activated. 

Rex eased slightly, no longer as tense, “a Jedi cruiser.” His eyes lit up, “I have an idea. I’ll be in touch.” 

Before either of you could turn to leave, Tech got everyone’s attention, “For the purpose of establishing a baseline, I’d like a scan of your brain, Rex.” 

The scientist behind Echo perked up.

“That would be helpful.” They mumbled, “Maybe it can help establish exactly where the chip is located. Establish a control…” 

"̶F̸e̶i̸g̶n̶i̶n̶g̴ ̶i̶g̸n̷o̸r̸a̵n̵c̷e̸.̵"̴ Krell hissed.

Maker damnit. 

You swallowed, hate filling your blood. How could you trust them? Everything screamed Kaminoan Asset. Your anger blinded you. At this point, you didn’t care about their name. You didn’t care where they came from. 

You hated them.

Rex nodded, “Good idea.” 

The Kaminoan scientist said something. They smiled. 

Were they happy to have help? Or were they happy to have your kar’ta to use for an experiment!?

Krell whispered in your ear, “"̷Y̶o̶u̶ ̸k̶n̷o̷w̴ ̷w̸h̶a̸t̵ ̶t̸o̵ ̵d̴o̶ ̶w̸i̷t̴h̸ ̸a̶ ̸t̵h̶r̵e̵a̴t̴.̸"̶

Without another word, You pulled your blaster, aiming directly at their heart, causing everyone to freeze. Everyone, other than Echo, who responded with his own weapon point at you.

“Did you know about the chips?” Your question was filled with hate and poison, “Did you know and let everyone suffer?” 

“I…”

“Good people are dead! Countless soldiers! Countless innocents!” 

“Mesh’la…” Rex’s hand was on your shoulder, “Mesh’la, calm down.” 

“Fives is dead!” You shouted, “He tried to stop this! Fives and his love-”

“Doc, that's enough! Stand down!” Echo snarled, choosing to defend his own love. There wasn’t any hesitation from him. He’d gun you down if you killed the one behind him.

You killed Krell because he hurt those you loved. You’d kill again if this chakaaryc had a hand in-

Rex put his gloved hand over your shaking blaster. 

“Tell me the truth, Demagolka!” You demanded, gaze burning into them.

Tup was beside they’re startled form. His arms were raised, "̵D̶o̸c̸,̴ ̸I̷ ̶t̸h̴i̶n̶k̴ ̴y̴o̴u̷ ̸s̷h̷o̴u̷l̸d̸ ̵l̸o̶w̴e̸r̶ ̸t̴h̵e̸ ̴b̴l̸a̶s̸t̸e̸r̶.̷"̴ ̶ He tried to ease your rage, "̷L̸e̶t̸ ̷'̴e̵m̵ ̸g̷e̸t̶ ̵a̷ ̷w̷o̶r̶d̶ ̴i̷n̵,̶ ̶y̷o̵u̷ ̸k̸n̷o̴w̷?̷"̵

‘Kamino killed you, Tup.’ Your heart ached, ‘They could have done something to save you.’

"̸G̵i̴v̴e̷ ̸t̶h̵e̴m̸ ̷a̷ ̶c̴h̶a̷n̶c̷e̴.̶.̷.̵"̵

“Please.” Your voice trembled, listening to the trooper that haunted you, “Just…answer me...”

The scientist’s gaze shifted. From fear and shock to a deep sadness and understanding. As if they knew your pain, even a small part of it. “I didn’t know. About any of it.” They told you, putting a hand on Echo’s arm and lowering his blaster, “I promise. I didn’t know. But if I did…I would have done something. I’m not sure what, but I would have done something.”

They were telling the truth. 

You lowered your blaster and looked away. After a moment to steady your breath your gaze met theirs, “I’m sorry. I…I shouldn’t have-”

“I get it. I might’ve done the same in your position.” They responded with a small smirk, “And…as revenge for everyone who's been hurt…I stole imperial files.”

You let out a pleasantly surprised gasp and Rex’s eyes widened, “You have files? We can use those!” 

Hardcase laughed, and Fives hollered, “I̴ ̶l̵i̶k̶e̴ ̶t̴h̶i̵s̵ ̴o̸n̵e̸!̶"̷

‘....I do too.’

[awkward-tension-art]

“Rex and Doc are reunited! Everything will be OK, right?”

Haha…about that….

[awkward-tension-art]

Ruins of a Republic Chp.9 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 8. Chapter 10.

Vacation

Warnings: Rampart being an asshole, Depression, grief, trauma, death, ptsd, mentions of Umbara, hallucinations, Pong Krell mentioned, there's some fluff if you squint, reader is medic/doctor, reader insert, Reader x Rex

“Do you have anything to say, Doctor?” 

Rampart glared at you steadily from across his desk. The Admiral called you into his office to lecture about your ‘behavior’.

AKA someone must’ve snitched on your breakdown. 

He continued when you didn’t respond, “Talking to yourself. Chasing hallucinations. A depressive breakdown that results in several days MIA.” Rampart went down the list of everything's that happened in the last few days, “All of these symptoms you never reported.”

When he finally gave you a moment to speak, you only responded, with a, “I…could still work, sir.” 

“Admiral,” He corrected you snidely. 

“Admiral,” You quickly fixed your tone, “I was still able to work. And I wrongly assumed that the symptoms would go away on their own.” It was a lie. You honestly didn’t expect to live long enough for you to be called out like this.

Or maybe you didn’t care if you were. Honestly, despite the short time, your memories surrounding your depression and hallucinations were becoming fuzzy. 

How did you feel other than deep despair?

Your answer didn’t make him happy. His frown deepened and he slammed his hands on his desk, “And how do I know you can work now!? How can I tell if you haven’t gone entirely insane!?”

You didn’t have an answer. Honestly, even at the moment you could see Hardcase in the corner of your eye, trembling in rage on your behalf.

You needed medication. Therapy. And time. 

Time the Empire didn’t seem to afford anyone. 

After more silence, Admiral Rampart straightened his back, “The Empire respects your service during the war. You have proven yourself priceless to the troops and their morale. Not to mention Admiral Yularen continues to speak highly of you.”

Ah, Yularen. He was the Admiral you technically reported to. However, it seems he wasn’t available, which is why Admiral di’kut was tearing into you. 

You really wanted to see Rex.

Currently, your cyar’ika was staying hidden, meeting with his contacts here on Coruscant. Of course he was already establishing a plan. A way to get those cursed inhibitor chips out of their skulls.

…Maker, Rampart kept talking…

“But we can not have-”

“Vacation.”

“What?” Your single word knocked Rampart off his tirade. 

“Vacation.” You repeated before continuing, “I haven’t had any sort of vacation or extended leave since the war started. I am putting in a formal request to go on a sabbatical. To get treatment for my mental wellbeing.”

His eyes widened, staring you up and down. After a moment he turned slightly and typed something on the computer on his desk, “You have roughly 6 weeks of leave accrued.” After a short hum he nodded, “Granted. Starting today-.”

“Thank you, sir.” you stood and gave a salute before turning and leaving his office. 

“W̵h̵a̷t̴ ̶a̶ ̶s̵h̷a̸b̷u̸i̵r̶.” Fives hissed to your left, “W̶h̵a̷t̴ ̸d̸o̷e̴s̵ ̷h̴e̸ ̶k̷n̷o̷w̸?̸”

You turned to face him, but you kept silent. Since Rex found you and told you that Ahsoka, as well as Echo were alive, those you lost were quieter. Not so loud. 

"̷O̶r̵i̸'̶b̷u̶y̷c̷e̵,̵ ̵k̷i̷h̴'̶k̷o̵v̶i̸d̴.̴” Hardcase chimed from your right. 

…but still ever present in your life. 

With a sigh, you muttered under your breath, “Kaysh shu'shuk.” 

When have you last spoken Mando’a? Ever since Order 66, the clone troopers no longer used their lineage tongue. When you treated them, they looked confused, unsure whenever you asked questions in the language. 

Order 66 has stripped them of their heritage as well as their names and personalities.

There were a few exceptions, of course. Wolffe and Cody retained their identities, or recovered from the chip almost instantly. A few others were able to shake the inhibitor chip influence much quicker than their other brothers.

‘Vode. Siblings.’ You corrected yourself mentally.

Without wasting much time, you prepped the medical bay for your absence. Thankfully, the two nitwits were replaced by actual competent clone medics. The only other natborn aside from you was from the 104th and you trusted their expertise as much as your own.

Once the medical personnel were informed, you went home. Truthfully, you wanted to go directly to Rex, but given your recent behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if you were being watched.

Still, once you got inside, you opened the window.

and waited.

“W̸h̵a̴t̶ ̵a̶r̴e̵ ̸y̶o̸u̷ ̶p̴l̵a̵n̸n̵i̶n̴g̷?” Fives had his arms crossed, leaving against the wall next to the window.

You didn’t immediately respond. Instead, your eyes were looking outside, watching Coruscant and all its lights and life. The planet was unchanged, always consistent, even during the worst battles. 

You learned much during the war. When to take action. When to fight. When to fall back and tend to wounds. 

You learned the true meaning of loyalty. Of freedom and determination.

If you joined Rex…in his plans. In his life against this Empire…

Would all that suffering be worth it? The loss and pain?

You realized the war hadn’t truly ended. And if you joined Rex, the war would never really end. Not until this Empire was taken down and the Republic put back in its place. And when his already short life was over, you would be left alone to continue the fight.

Joining him would mean losing your friends. Your family…

“Y̶o̶u̵ ̷c̴a̷n̸’̷t̷ ̷s̶i̷t̶ ̸b̴a̷c̸k̸ ̶a̸n̶d̶ ̷h̶a̸v̴e̶ ̸s̸o̵m̴e̴o̷n̶e̴ ̵e̷l̴s̷e̷ ̸m̷a̴k̵e̶ ̶t̵h̷e̶ ̴d̴e̶c̴i̴s̶i̸o̷n̴s̴ ̸f̶o̷r̵ ̷y̷o̶u̶!” Krell’s gruff and loud voice startled you, “Y̵o̴u̵ ̷n̸e̸e̴d̴ ̸t̸o̴ ̵a̷c̵t̷!̶ ̶T̶h̸i̸s̸ ̷i̷s̷ ̷a�� ̶b̴a̷t̶t̶l̴e̵ ̵a̷n̶d̶ ̴y̶o̸u̵ ̵c̴a̷n̵’̷t̵ ̷h̴e̸s̶i̸t̴a̸t̵e̸!̴”̶ ̴

‘Great…the last thing I need is a demagolka yelling at me.’ you thought bitterly. Though, you supposed it made sense. In a sick and twisted way, Pong Krell left a heavy scar on your mind. Umbara still haunted you, filling your nightmares with darkness and shadow. 

You truly hated to say it, but Krell was right. You couldn’t have someone else make the decisions. You couldn’t just follow orders now. 

You had to act.

So you stood, and got to your computer.

Since you got time off, you messaged your family about your sudden ‘vacation to Spira’. They’d 

watch your home for you, make sure no one breaks in. If you truly were being watched by the Empire, you had to be believable.

You falsified everything. From the ship ticket to the planet all the way to the hotel reservation. A fake trail, in case Rampart or the Empire wanted eyes on you. Maybe you were being paranoid, but when it came to Rex’s safety, you had to be careful. 

There was a noise at your window, and a blaster was in your hand almost instantly. 

“Woah, mesh’la.” Your love was standing just inside, arms up in surrender, “Your reflexes are still spot on.” He had a proud smirk, before reaching back and closing the window, “Hopefully your aim is too.”

You greeted him with a kiss on the cheek before speaking, “Well, you did teach me everything I needed to know.”

He closed his eyes at your touch. His armored palm held your face, taking you into a tender kiss of your lips. 

‘What a privilege,’ You thought to yourself, ‘To love you for your entire life. Even if I will miss you for the rest of mine.’

Your cyar’ika pulled back from the kiss, “I’ll be going to Ord Mantell.” he informed you, “My contacts told me that's where Echo and the rest of his squad is.” 

You nodded in understanding, “It’ll be nice to see Echo again. When do we go?”

“You…are coming with me?” He seemed surprised at your resolute statement.

You gave a soft smile, “We’ve already spent too much time apart. I’m not leaving you again.”

“Mesh’la…”

“Please, Rex.”

If I lost you again, I will die.

He stared into your eyes before scanning your face. Ever so gently, his thumb ghosted under your left eye, still looking at you intently. After a few moments, he finally spoke, “You’ll be put at risk.” 

“I know.” 

“You’ll be an enemy of the Empire if we’re found out.” He argued gently, “You could be killed.”

“I know.” It was the same answer you gave your family when they found out you were joining the GAR. Back then they argued against you going. It was out of love. Out of fear of you getting shot by a droid. But it was a choice you’d make over and over again.

Because it led you to Rex. 

His hand gently roamed over your arm. His fingers traced over the plating on the medical brace, thumb running over a joint piece that allowed you to bend your elbow. He didn’t speak for a few moments, deep in his thoughts. After a few beats, he whispered, “Are you sure?” 

“I am.” you responded, keeping your eyes on his. There was so much put into such a short sentence. It held your devotion to him. Your love and loyalty. 

Your kar’ta gave you the smallest smile, gaze alight with relief and determination.

“To Ord Mantell, then.”

[awkward-tension-art]

Choose (One-Shot) (Rex x Reader)

Just a one-shot involving Rex and a concerned Cody! This isn't proofread at all. like at all.

Caduceus series

Warnings: Mentions of clone trooper abuse, Mentions of clone trooper sexual assault, Clone trooper dehumanization, Cody is a concerned older brother, Rex x Reader, no use of (Y/N), not proofread at all, SLIGHT angst

“Vod’ika.”

Cody’s voice greeted from the office doorway. The 212th commander had concern written all over his face as he stepped inside the room. 

“I’m fine.” Rex didn’t look up from the data pad, “I understand there’s a flu going around the ship, but I’m fine. Kix already asked me how I feel for the 4th time today.” 

That’s what has tied you up for the last few days. Your position as 501st Doctor meant you had to juggle every injury and sickness in the medical bay. 

And it just so happened that some of the men caught some type of virus on the last planet. It was no more than a minor Infection that went away with rest, but it was highly contagious. Everyone, save Rex, Cody and a few others, had been in the medical bay on bed rest at least once in the last week. 

Thus, you and him haven’t spent time together the last few days. 

Which, admittedly, dampened his mood. 

Cody was in front of him, a stern frown on his face, “Vod’ika,” his tone was that of a superior, but his words were of a concerned brother, “You look like you haven’t been sleeping.” 

Oh here we go…

Rex put the data pad down on his desk and rubbed his temple. He knew Cody was coming from a place of concern, “It’s been busy. General Skywalk-“

“Why aren’t you at the barracks when you're on Coruscant?” Cody finally asked his question, “Fox is worried. So’s Gree.”

He was good in that regard, being the ori’vod. The eldest brother. Wolffe, Ponds, Gree, Bly, they all looked at Cody as the oldest brother. Even Fox would bow his head if the 212th commander snapped at him to do so. 

“I have been?” The captain looked at the commander in confusion. 

“Not every night. And I know you don’t spend that much time at 79’s.” Cody leaned against the desk, staring at him with his dark eyes, “What is going on? Is it…” he spoke your name, forgoing your title as Doctor. 

Damnit. Was I that obvious?

No. The ori’vode were just that good. 

“…yes.” He sighed finally, “It’s…something I do now, sometimes spend my leave in their home on Coruscant.”

The commander stared blankly. After a brief second he scoffed, “what…did they… tell you to say that?” Now there was panic. True worry as an older brother should, “Are they forcing you to…?”

“No.” Rex snapped, silencing him. The fact that Cody thought you able to…coerce him into such things…It sent a spike of anger through his blood. “you don’t understand. I want this.” The captain finished, “they suggested it, but I wanted it. To be with them.”

“You…what?” 

The captain looked at his ori’vod, “we are in a relationship.” He knew Cody would want details, so he continued, “…and I’ve been comfortable since the beginning. It’s something I want. they haven’t forced me into anything.” 

Truthfully, you seemed to give him all the choices. you let him control the pace. Control what happens. As if aware of the power imbalance and status you held as a nat-born.

Giving him the choice allowed for a more equal relationship. One he appreciated deeply. 

The silence was heavy. Rex looked away, feeling like he was back at Kamino, tears in his eyes, blonde curls stuck to his skin and being inspected closely by the longnecks. poke and prodded for any flaw. 

Flaws you didn’t seem to see. 

Cody’s eyes roamed over the captain's face. After more thick quiet, his tone completely shifted, “Have…how many know?” 

“General Skywalker.” He answered honestly, “And Fives. But other than that, just you. Though I believe commander Tano suspects, as does Kix.” 

“And…you’re happy?” Like a good older brother, Cody stressed, “are they…” 

“Gentle.” The captain responded, “Slow. Considerate to…my lack of experience.” 

’Good experience,’ he nearly added, bitterly. Thoughts and memories of being treated as nothing more than a toy by Kaminoans and other nat-borns poisoned his mind. 

“Why are you so tired then?” 

“Because I enjoy the nights we spend together.” Rex snapped, finally done with the questions. He did enjoy the small amount of domesticity you two shared. But…

Truthfully, it was hard to sleep in your apartment. It felt too…open. Too exposed. Without his many other siblings in their bunks around him, he felt…vulnerable.

He couldn’t rest too deeply with only him to protect you from danger. 

Cody jerked back, standing straight. He didn’t expect such an outburst from the younger clone, “No. That's not…needed.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, “Wolffe and Fox…”

He rolled his eyes, “Wolffe and Fox need to mind their business.”

And Wolffe is a hypocrite. Rex nearly snarked, well aware of the commander's growing feelings for a former senator-turned medic in the 104th.

“Rex’ika…”

Little Rex.

“Cody…” The captain sighed, “I’m fine, really. We are…comfortable. You can tell Wolffe and Fox as much. I’m fine. This is a relationship I want.”

The commander looked him up and down again, “…I can’t believe you.”

“Ori’vod, please.” 

“You're not supposed to be vulnerable to them. To any nat-born.” There was a venom in his words. A deep hatred brought by fear. 

Tears. Panicked breathing. Cody had been called to a senator's office to discuss performance of the GAR. he returned to the barracks, blacks torn and armor put on incorrectly. 

The Clone Troopers were an exotic commodity now. And nat-borns with status were taking advantage. 

Rex wanted to be angry at his distrust of you. After all, you treated the commander's wounds during the times the 501st and 212th would work together. 

But…that was a different type of vulnerability. A broken bone could heal. A cut on the cheek could be wiped away with bacta. 

A broken mind? A broken heart? 

Cody feared you would stick your claws into Rex and pull him apart the same way others do to all the other clone troopers. All his other vode.

‘Our brothers are our family.‘ They’d whisper to each other back on Kamino, ‘family comes first.’

And yet, here you are, a Doctor of the 501st, determined and strong willed. You stole his heart. Gave him a purpose outside of battle. Outside of survival. 

There wasn’t much Rex could do to ease Cody’s worry. Afterall, he was the ori’vod taking care of his younger sibling. After a few moments, the blonde clone shook his head and spoke, “they’re different.” Was all he could say. 

What a weak way to defend you. 

‘The can’t be trusted,’ Fox’s bitter, hurt words echoed in his mind, ‘They view us as property. They’ll break your heart and leave you in pieces.’

He couldn’t help but sigh again, shaking his head, “I love our siblings, I do.”

“Who would you pick?” His ori’vod asked, tone hard, “Our vode or them?” Now he isn't speaking your name. As if tainted by poison. 

That question hurt…more than he could describe. His siblings or his love? 

His siblings or you.

His silence seemed to be enough for Cody. The commander frowned, “Rex’ika…”

“It’s fine.” Rex grabbed the datapad on his desk and stood, “It’s fine.” he repeated, making his way past the commander to the door.

It wasn’t.

Because honestly, he wasn’t sure what he would choose.

[awkward-tension-art]

Ruins of a Republic Chp.8 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 7. Chapter 9.

And Found

Warnings: Depression, grief, trauma, death, ptsd, swearing, mentions of readers previous attempt on their life, reunited, angst, heavy kissing, almost smut (?), theres some fluff if you squint, reader is medic/doctor, reader insert, Reader x Rex

note: Never intended for there to smut in this series. If people are interested, I might do a one shot.

You hit the ground with a yelp, and in a scramble, ended up pinned to the hangar floor. Two strong hands were on your shoulders, keeping you from moving.

“Are you out of your fucking mind!?” 

Never before would you think those words were beautiful. 

Your eyes were taking in the one above you. His battle-wary face, his bright and alert eyes, his blonde hair, all of it. 

But your brain refused to recognize. Realize. 

Rex.

Your Rex.

“You're not real.” you whispered, “You can’t be…” Without any control, tears blurred your vision, “Rex is gone. He’s gone, like everyone else.” you shook your head, unable to hold back your spiking emotions.

Realization dawned on him, “No, cyare…” He whispered, “I’m real…I’m here…” 

With shaky hands, you held his face. Your thumbs traced the marks on his tan skin, roaming over lines and flaws that you’ve known so well. 

He was warm. So unlike the Rex that haunted your mind. 

Something inside your broken mind clicked. A fragile piece of your soul managed to hold itself together. For once, in a long while, your heart didn’t hurt to beat. 

“Rex…” you choked, letting out a sob. Without waiting any longer, you reached up, wrapping your shaky arms around him. Your fingers dug into the armor of his back and you buried your face in his shoulder. 

Judging by the way he trembled in your arms, he was in the same emotional state as you. His right arm held you up, lifting you to be as tight to his chest as possible. 

In this moment, you memorized him. 

The feel of his racing heartbeat. The warmth of his body holding yours so tightly. The wetness of tears on your shoulder as he wept. 

All signs that he was real. He was alive.

Rex was here.

How long were you there, on the cold hangar floor holding each other? It didn’t matter. You would have stayed there forever if you could. The only reason the two of you broke apart was because of police sirens in the distance. The former captain practically carried you inside the hangar garage, refusing to let you go again.

Once out of sight and any immediate danger, your gaze roamed over his wary body.

His armor was dirty and damaged, covered by a dark-colored cloak. His eyes, despite their beauty, were haunted. He was favoring one leg over the other. It was a slight change in his posture, one only you could see. 

Your eyes traveled back to his face, raising a hand to wipe away tear marks on his cheeks.

He leaned into your hand slightly, savoring your touch. 

It’s been far too long.

You had so many questions. So many things to say and to ask. 

How did he survive? 

Was he under the same personality change as many other clone troopers? 

Did he follow that fucking Order 66?

The first and only thing you were able to settle on was, “I love you.” before grabbing his face and kissing him.

The former captain let out a soft, noise of surprise before returning the kiss. He leaned into you for a moment before he broke away to let out a relieved laugh, “I love you too.”

Finally, finally the neurons in your brain connected enough to form an actual, proper sentence, “What…happened?” You didn’t separate, keeping as close to him as possible.

Your kar’ta told you everything. The siege of Mandalore, Commander Tano, Maul…all the way to hearing the order from Palpatine and becoming something he wasn’t. Trying to kill Ahsoka, under some control that wasn’t his own.

Halfway through his retelling you had to sit down on one of the rusted metal crates.

He confirmed for you that Jesse had perished. That Fives and his lover were right and those inhibitor chips were coded with orders to kill the Jedi. And thankfully, Ahsoka was alive. She was hiding on a remote farming planet. 

You’d take that secret to the grave.

Suddenly, it felt as if your pain lessened. You weren’t so alone in this galaxy. 

You had your kar’ta back. Your former commander was also alive. 

“I believe Clone Force 99 is also still around.” Rex stated, sitting next to you and staring off into the distance, “Deserters, just like me. Haven’t seen them in person yet, but I had a couple of contacts run into them.”

Echo!

You assumed he had perished, having not heard from him since before the war ended. He was alive! And it was a safe assumption so was Clone Force 99. 

How stupid of you, not to realize you weren’t alone in this galaxy. Your pain and suffering blinded you to the fact that there were those that loved you. Cared for you. And your death would only add to their pain.

You needed to keep living. If not for yourself, then for those you loved. 

You were still far from OK. It would take a long time to heal. Recover. If you ever did. But…you had a small amount of resolve, to see to your healing. 

Your hand was on Rex’s interlocking your fingers with his, “I thought you died.” You finally spoke softly, “You…you were reported dead. Having gone down with the Tribunal.”

“I know, mesh’la.” He murmured, turning to look at you, “I tried to get to you as quickly as I could. But the Empire…Everythings changed so much, I had to hide the ship. Stay off Coruscant's scanners. I’m-”

You squeezed his hand, “Don’t apologize.” Your voice was soft, quiet and tired as you responded, “This…it was out of your control. Out of anyone's control.”

“I should have been here sooner…” 

He saw your decline. Physical and mental. It was obvious. You were the furthest thing from alright. Honestly, you probably looked like a corpse compared to the last time he saw you.

“You’re here now. That's what matters.” You put your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes, “This Empire…What do we do?” 

“I…have some ideas. To free my brothers. From those chips. From the fucking Empire.” He responded, resting his head against yours now, “Will you help-”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even finish the question.” 

You laughed softly, also earning a snort from your lover. However, after a second, a heavy silence settled over the both of you.

“What happened, Mesh’la?” His question had so much weight to it. What could you say? That you lost your mind to grief? That your despair was so great you nearly let it consume you completely. 

You squeezed his hand before answering, “I don’t think I can live without you, Rex.” It was an honest answer. 

Before the war, you never did picture yourself to be so lovesick.

But now? With Rex? 

The Empire be damned. Shortened clone lifespan be damned. There wasn’t a strong enough word for it. For how you felt.

Love. Enthralled. Affectionate. Passionate. Smitten. Captivated. 

None of it was enough to explain. 

He was a piece of your heart. Your very soul. To lose him would be losing yourself. It was clear, without him was life without breath. 

The former captain cupped your face in his gloved hand. His beautiful brown eyes looked right into yours, “I can’t either, not without you...” He responded with a whisper, “Getting back to you was all that kept me going…I wasn’t sure if I would ever see you again…I thought I lost you.” 

Your palm rested over his hand, “But you found me.” Those words sent a wave of strength through your heart. 

He found you.

Rex responded with a small smile before pulling you into a tender kiss. His free hand rested at your hip as he leaned into you to get even closer. You met his love equally, fingertips trailing down his back. 

You felt him shiver, pushing against you further. There was a hurried desperation in his movements. A deep desire that’s been lit like a flame now that he was reunited with you. His mind was frenzied, like a man in a desert needing a drink. 

When you pulled back to breathe, he followed, “No..please…” He whispered, pulling you back to continue kissing you, “...linibar gar…” Rex gasped between his lips and yours, “...Gebi'shya…Gedet'ye…”

You wanted to go further. Let him forget his own pain for a night. Now that you had him in your hands again. But you felt warm drops slip through your fingers on his cheek.

his tears told you no. 

And you refused to take advantage of him. 

“Ni cuy' olar…” You whispered to him, pulling back to rest your forehead against his, “Vi rucuyir echoy'la…”

We were lost. 

Rex opened his golden eyes. The low light around you made them look like a burning amber, “Vi cuyir mar'eyce...”

We are found.

[awkward-tension-art]

Ruins of a Republic Chp.7 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 6. Chapter 8.

Lost

Warnings: Rex POV, Depression, grief, trauma, death, ptsd, swearing, mentions of reader not eating, brief mention of clone mistreatment, Reader attempts their own life, reader is medic/doctor, reader insert, Reader x Rex, angst

Severe warning: This chapter briefly mentions reader making an attempt on their life. If you, or anyone you know struggles with suicidal thoughts, PLEASE use these resources to help you: International Suicide Prevention Hotlines

30 days. 

30 fucking days. 

To find a way onto Coruscant that wouldn’t get him found out and arrested. Or executed.

It was 30 days too late. 

Rex tried to find you on Naboo. But by the time he had the chance, you were already on the ship to Coruscant. He only managed a brief glance, but what he saw…

It terrified him. 

You looked…broken. Your gaze was empty and dull. Your body was pale, and near lifeless. Your braced arm wasn't being maintained. He could spot the rust forming on the surgical metal from where he hid in the crowded streets. Have you been eating? Sleeping? 

It was the stress of the Republic falling. The grief of losing almost everyone. But you had your family. Your friends from before the war. They should have been helping you. 

Where was your support system?!

It took far too long to find someone willing to modify his ship and get him onto Coruscant. He had to turn to disgusting favors to get them to cooperate. Pride be damned, he was a clone and he’s been through worse. He could handle it, as long as it led to you. 

Rex needed you in his arms. 

Thankfully, Ahsoka had friends, the Martez sisters, that let him hide his ship in their hangar while he hunted you down. 

The former captain navigated the streets of Coruscant where he started at your apartment, only to be met with an empty home. Your furniture, bed and other home items were in their usual places, but it was clear you weren’t maintaining them. There wasn’t any food in the place either. If there was, it was expired, telling him all he needed to know. 

You had stopped eating.

“Oh kar’ta…” He tsked to himself, “What…are you feeling? Who has been with you?” Clones could handle grief. They were made for it. To lose and to keep fighting. 

But you? A nat-born? 

There’s been so much loss…the Jedi, the clone troopers…Could anyone really handle it? He barely did and his brain was modified to process such tragedy. 

Rex debated on waiting in your apartment. Surely you’d return from wherever you are, right? He didn’t need to leave, just wait for you to come back.

But the disquiet in his chest told him to move. Something was severely wrong.

In a shot in the dark, he tried to com you. Only to be met with silence. Disconnected, or replaced with Imperial gear. 

“Haar'chak.” He swore, wasting no more time. He rushed from your apartment, getting into the streets of Coruscant. He started by asking around, potential neighbors, the market you visited whenever the 501st was on temporary leave.

Thankfully, a few individuals were informative. But they’re words did nothing but spike his anxiety. 

“Chasing some ghost.” 

“Totally crazy. Lost their mind after the war.”

“I know they haven’t been well. Talking to themselves, to people that aren't really there. War really must fuck with your head, huh?”

Rex swallowed, now on high alert. 

Have you lost your mind to the war? To loss? To grief? Had this Empire broken you so quickly?

You had changed during the many battles you fought in. Every loss of a clone trooper affected you. Especially as the legions surgeon. Umbara especially stuck with you. Not only physically, but mentally. 

He’d comfort you through nightmares. of Krell. Of swallowing darkness. Of a planet that tried its best to kill everyone on it. 

They had gotten worse when Fives was lost. Your mental state had been on a steady decline since.

Those damn inhibitor chips.

If only Rex had listened. If he had calmed the situation and listened, Fives would still be alive. Him and his dear love…

“I’m sorry Fives…” Rex thought, kneeling by a speeder to quickly hotwire it, “I’m sorry to you and your Mesh’la. If I had listened…” Once the engine roared, the captain hopped on and quickly took to a lane. He couldn’t focus on that right now, he still needed to find you.

How far could you have gotten? 

He did his best to stay out of sight. He couldn’t stay in one place for too long, incase of cameras and droids catching him. Or, maker forbid, a passing corrie patrol. He couldn’t deal with his brothers, not while they could be under the inhibitor chips influence.

Everywhere he looked, turned up nothing. 

79’s, nothing. 

The hospital you worked at, nothing. 

He even managed to infiltrate the Imperial HQ, only to find nothing on your whereabouts. No notes. No passing gossip. Nothing.

Instead, he found out Bly had died. Taken his own life after the Order…After killing Aayla

“...Vod’ika Bly…” The former captain breathed, steeling himself. He had to find you, hold you. Tell you that he was alive.

He had to pull you away from the ‘ghosts’ you were supposedly chasing.

After whispering words of respect to the fallen trooper, Rex was back on the speeder. There was one place he could try. If you were stricken with grief and mourning…well, he had an idea. 

Fives was your best friend, even more so than Kix. You never did see where he died. The captain forbade it, refusing to let you suffer even more from the loss. Could you have gone there in your grief to mourn him again?

Rex made a sharp turn, pissing off a driver beside him. It was easy to ignore the swears and slurs getting thrown as he sped away. Getting to hangar 18 was his priority, speeder laws and irate drivers be damned.

He spotted you as soon as he killed the engine. 

You looked like a ghost, haunting the hangar with your presence. Your eyes were empty. Your body was listless.

It looked like you were dying. 

“Kar’ta.” He tried to call, approaching you. He was a mere few feet away, and anxious to get you in his arms. To hold you and kiss you again.

Yet, you must not have heard him, as you approached the edge. For a split second, you paused, thinking maybe you did in fact hear his words. He saw your lips move, whispering something softly before you closed your eyes and stepped off. 

Rex dove forward, scraping his armored knees on the rough ground as he did so. His arms wrapped around your middle like a vice. Once he felt your body in his grip, he yanked you back, more or less slamming you back onto the hangar floor. 

He’d apologize for such a rough treatment later.

Rex shouted a swear, climbing over you to pin your shoulders down. Your lifeless eyes were wide, as he yelled in pure shock and fear.

“Are you out of your fucking mind!?”

[awkward-tension-art]

Fanfiction is great because you can see so clearly how people learn to write.

Some people, it's clear, learned almost entirely through absorbing the world around them. Grammar and punctuation will be all over the place, spellings are approximate, but the voice of the narration will come through so clearly. You can hear the dialect of the people around them as of they're telling the story. It's not a written story, it's a transcription of how they talk in their day to day life.

Some people learned through reading a gazillion books as a kid. Grammer and spelling will be rock solid, formatting occasionally based on the single tab of physical books rather than the double tab of online scrolling, but dialogue is often stilted and overly formal. You might notice a lack of contractions and very rigid rules they made for consistency that actually have a lot more flexibility than they think. They tend to have a fantastic grasp of sentence flow, though.

And other people formally learned how to write. This could be anywhere from taking school classes seriously because they enjoyed writing stories as a kid to literal certifications and jobs in the field. Grammer is flawless. Punctuation is triple checked. Foreign words are in italics. Characters have distinct voices. But their self indulgence is tempered by perfectionism. They know precisely what they want from a fic. Authors notes often feature mutterings about their happiness with the chapter. Kaomojis often appear! They seek a style to their writing, and it makes for some wonderfully clever plots! These are the ones most likely to get fun with formatting!

And some people.... Some people examined it all. They dissect dialogue, people watch, cross reference behaviours and compare characters to people irl. You can tell almost immediately who had formative experiences with Terry pratchett and/or ghibli, because it's these people. While others see writing as fun, expression, craft, they see it as art. Plain and simple. Sure, the grammar is occasionally sacrificed on the altar of creative freedom, and the occasional sentence might miss a full stop, but these people seem to self reflect on themselves as part of the art making process. On occasion, these people have the most masterful grasp of dialogue and invocation and hand sewn characterisations. Formatting is pretty standard because all the focus is on the actual words. These fics can be edited to the moon and back!

All of these can vary wildly in forethought and quality, and betas can often catch individual problems before they hit post, but just. Isn't it so cool? What's that one Oscar Wilde quote about every mask just being another fragment of yourself?

Did you recognise yourself?

[awkward-tension-art]

Ruins of a Republic Chp.6 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 5. Chapter 7.

Commit

Warnings: Depression, grief, hallucinations that continue to get worse, reader is medic/doctor, reader insert, death, PTSD, trauma, Reader attempts their own life, Gender-neutral reader, no use of (Y/N), Reader's mental state is getting worse, Reader x Rex, ANGST

Extra: Glitch text added to visually show hallucinations/Mental Decline

Severe Warnings: This chapter has the POV of a character losing their grip on reality and making an attempt on their life. If you, or anyone you know struggles with suicidal thoughts, PLEASE use these resources to help you: International Suicide Prevention Hotlines

It’s been 30 days since the Republic fell. 

Since the Empire rose from the ashes and blood.

25 days since finding out Rex was dead. 

25 days since your heart shattered in your chest.

Every day since was filled with pain. With agony. Every breath was a battle. Every movement was a struggle. And it was getting worse.

It’s been 25 days since you died as well. 

All you were now was an empty husk. A haunted shell with no purpose. 

You were a corpse. One who walked the halls of the Empire, drifting between existence and nonexistence. Until you found R̵e̴x̵ ̷again.

He appeared in front of you. And you followed.

You don’t know where you are anymore. You left your apartment, following R̵e̶x̷ as you and him weaved through the streets of Coruscant. 

"̴T̷h̴i̵s̵ ̴w̷a̴y̶,̴ ̸k̵a̷r̴'̴t̷a̶.̵"̷ ̵h̸e̶ ̵w̵h̸i̶s̴p̶e̷r̷e̶d̴,̴ ̵s̵o̸ ̶m̶u̵c̴h̶ ̵l̴o̸v̶e̶ ̶i̸n̶ ̴h̵i̴s̸ ̸v̵o̸i̵c̶e̴.̵

“Lead the way, love.” You responded, a smile on your face for the first time in…

How long has it been? 

It didn’t matter. He was with you now. Everything was going to be OK…

His pace picked up, and you followed, “Rex, slow down!” You called, eyes on the back of his perfect armor. He looked back and gave you a smirk before continuing.

‘Crazy’ You heard someone whisper.

‘Crazy in love.’ You thought to yourself, not paying them any mind. Their opinions didn’t matter, not anymore, “Where are we going?” your attention was fully on the man you adored. 

H̴e̷ ̵d̷i̷d̸n̵'̸t̴ ̶l̸o̴o̵k̶ ̷b̴a̴c̶k̶ ̷a̷t̴ ̸y̸o̸u̷,̷ ̷"̵I̵ ̵t̶h̴i̶n̴k̶ ̸w̷e̴ ̶s̶h̶o̸u̷l̵d̴ ̴m̵a̴k̶e̴ ̸u̵p̵ ̵f̸o̸r̴ ̷l̶o̶s̵t̴ ̵t̵i̵m̷e̵.̸"̴ ̷t̸h̸e̷ ̶f̵o̷r̴m̸e̷r̸ ̸c̵a̸p̶t̷a̴i̷n̸ ̴a̷n̴s̵w̵e̸r̶e̵d̶,̶ ̷"̴J̴u̶s̵t̷ ̵y̶o̸u̴ ̴a̴n̸d̸ ̸m̵e̶.̵.̸.̶"̴

You tried to grab his hand, but it slipped through your fingers. 

“Slow down!” You giggling, assuming he was being playful.

"̷K̴e̴e̶p̴ ̸u̴p̵ ̸c̵y̴a̶r̴e̴!̴"̸ ̵H̷e̷ ̵l̴a̸u̵g̷h̶e̶d̵ ̸b̵a̶c̶k̵,̶ ̷s̸p̵e̷e̸d̷i̷n̸g̷ ̷u̴p̴.̸

“Hey!”

You gave chase, running through the streets of Coruscant to follow him. Rex was fast. Of course he was, but he slowed down enough so you could never lose him. 

Not again. Never again.

The two of you went down several levels. At some point, you got on a rail-speeder and let it take you both as far as it would go. All the while, you couldn’t stop giggling.

Someone was staring at you, but you ignored them. It didn’t matter if you loved a clone! He was your very heart. Your reason for breathing. Strangers could think whatever they wanted.

The back of your mind screamed at you. something was wrong. Very wrong.

Your smile faded for a second but R̷e̷x̶’̵s̷ voice got your attention again, “E̵v̷e̷r̴y̷t̵h̸i̴n̷g̵ ̶a̷l̵r̴i̵g̵h̶t̴,̵ ̸k̴a̸r̶'̶t̵a̵?̷"̶

You nodded, “Yes. More than alright.” Your hand was over his, surprising you at how cold his armor felt, “I…I missed you so much.”

"̸I̵ ̵m̵i̷s̴s̵e̶d̷ ̴y̴o̸u̷ ̴t̸o̴o̷.̶"̴ ̸H̸e̵ ̷r̴e̴s̶p̸o̸n̵d̵e̴d̴,̷ ̸"̴I̸'̴m̸ ̵s̸o̸ ̴g̷l̵a̵d̴ ̴t̶o̷ ̷h̸a̵v̴e̸ ̵f̶o̴u̸n̴d̸ ̶y̵o̴u̵.̷"̵

The railspeeder slowed to another stop. Without waiting, Rex stood and motioned for you to follow.

You did so without question. 

Where were you?

It didn’t matter! You were with R̷e̷x̶! All that matters now is that you and him were together again.

R̷e̷x̶ tried to wave down a taxi-speeder but they ignored him. After a moment, you raised your hand to get the attention of a driver. Almost immediately, you secured a ride.

Rude…

The vehicle slowed down and opened the door, “Where are you headed?” The Rodian driver asked. He looked at the both of you through his rearview mirror.

“Where are we going, kar’ta?” You asked your lover as you slid into the speeder.

"̵H̴a̵n̶g̵a̷r̶ ̴1̶8̷.̷"̸

“Hangar 18,” you repeated to the driver. He was clearly ignoring the captain next to you. 

He looked surprised, even concerned as you spoke to him, “You…uh…You ok?” He blinked, large eyes on you and you alone.

“We are perfectly fine.” You answered, hiding your irritation behind a polite smile. You interlocked your fingers with R̷e̷x̶

The Rodian didn’t respond immediately. However, you did hear him mumble, “Whatever you're on, I want some.”

You ignored him. If you snapped back, he may kick you out of his taxi…instead, you turned to look at your lover, “Why Hangar 18?”

"̵I̵t̸s̵ ̶w̴h̵e̶r̵e̸ ̵w̴e̷ ̸c̷a̴n̷ ̷b̷e̶ ̸a̵l̷o̵n̵e̸,̶"̴ ̷H̷i̵s̸ ̴r̵e̴s̷p̶o̷n̸s̶e̴ ̸w̴a̷s̴ ̵c̶r̵y̶p̶t̴i̴c̵,̸ ̶"̵J̴u̷s̸t̸ ̴y̸o̶u̷ ̴a̸n̵d̴ ̵m̶e̸,̷ ̶c̷y̶a̷r̴e̸.̶"̷

Of course, not a straight answer…

R̷e̷x̶ always gave a straight answer. 

Despite your questions, you couldn’t help your excitement. An evening with R̷e̷x̶? Just you and him? 

These moments were rare during the war. And towards the end, impossible. But now that the war is over, you could spend all the time you wanted with him.

The taxi-speeder slowed and pulled out of the lane. The driver stopped at the hangar and looked back at you, “Listen…If you need help…”

“We are fine!” You snapped, practically throwing the Imperial credits at him, “Thank you for the ride, but mind your business.” 

The Rodian tried to speak again, but you and R̷e̷x̶ quickly exited the vehicle and stepped onto the hangar. It was…quiet. Despite the nearby speeder lane, it was near silent to you. It was even more quiet when you slipped inside the garage.

“Why here?” you asked, taking in your surroundings. There were shipping crates, some machinery and other bits and bobs thrown about. The hangar must’ve been long abandoned, as there was a layer of dust painted over everything. 

R̸e̴x̴ ̴r̸e̴a̴c̵h̸e̵d̶ ̸o̴u̷t̴ ̶a̶ ̷h̴a̵n̵d̸,̵ ̵"̸D̵a̴n̸c̸e̵ ̴w̸i̵t̵h̸ ̴m̵e̵?̵"̷ ̷

Without waiting, you took his gloved hand in your own, “There's no music.” you pointed out, but still stepped towards him to enter a small waltz. 

Did Rex even know how to dance?

"̷D̵o̵ ̷w̶e̸ ̷r̶e̷a̴l̴l̶y̶ ̷n̵e̵e̶d̵ ̸a̷n̵y̵?̵"̶H̵e̶ ̸p̷u̸l̸l̷e̶d̶ ̴y̴o̵u̸ ̴i̶n̵t̶o̶ ̶a̶ ̵g̷e̵n̶t̸l̵e̵ ̶s̸w̵a̴y̵.̵

You stared into his eyes, following his moves with a smile. You missed him…you truly missed him….

The two of you remained there for….who knows how long, dancing with each other slowly. You let yourself drown in the happiness, finally able to be reunited with your love. You finally had him again, and you couldn’t let go. 

“Rex…” You whispered, getting his attention, “Marry me.” There was no doubt in your words. You wanted to marry him. Spend your life with him, however long you had.

H̸i̶s̶ ̵b̷e̴a̸u̴t̷i̴f̷u̸l̵ ̶b̷r̸o̶w̷n̷ ̸e̵y̴e̴s̴ ̷w̸i̵d̷e̴n̴e̵d̷ ̶b̴e̷f̷o̸r̷e̶ ̷h̶e̵ ̸b̶r̶o̵k̴e̸ ̴i̴n̶t̴o̶ ̵a̶ ̵j̴o̸y̸f̴u̸l̷ ̴l̶a̴u̴g̷h̵.̶ ̵H̵e̸ ̸l̷e̶a̸n̸e̶d̴ ̷f̵o̸r̷w̵a̷r̷d̷,̸ ̵t̸o̷u̴c̸h̷i̴n̷g̸ ̵h̶i̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶r̷e̵h̶e̴a̵d̶ ̴t̴o̸ ̵y̴o̸u̶r̷,̷ ̷“̶Y̷e̸s̴.̴.̴.̸l̸e̴t̴s̴ ̶g̴e̶t̵ ̶m̶a̵r̴r̷i̵e̶d̵.̴ ̶h̵e̵r̶e̵ ̴a̴n̴d̴ ̴n̸o̸w̶.̵"̴

Your steps slowed and halted. The two of you stayed right there as you recited the mandalorian marriage vow together.

 "Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."

We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors.

Your mind knew nothing but joy. Bliss. Ecstasy. 

The pain and grief was nothing now. Your suffering has led to this moment. Where you marry the man you love, binding yourself to him. Where you swear yourselves to each other. 

R̸e̴x̶ pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your body tightly. 

“N̶i̶ ̷k̵a̸r̴'̵t̸a̷y̸l̷ ̷g̷a̴r̷ ̴d̸a̶r̸a̸s̶u̷u̵m̸”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Rex.”

You would never let go of him again-

Hangar 18.

Hangar 18. 

Where Fives died. 

All at once your shattered mind pulled itself together again. 

Rex was gone. In his wake was coldness. Emptiness. Grief. Mourning. 

Your grief ripped you apart anew. Your throat hurt from the wail you released. Tears burned your cheeks and your knees hit the ground. White, hot pain lanced through your arm and into your heart. 

Every beat was suffering. 

Every breath was agony. 

You didn’t care who heard you, you didn’t care if anyone was nearby as you sobbed and wept. It was losing him all over again. For just a moment you had happiness again, only for it to be ripped away by your consciousness. 

Your very soul was heavy. Haunted. Empty. 

That's all you were now. Empty. 

Using all the remaining energy you had, you weakly got to your feet. It took everything inside of you to make it outside. 

Your mind was gone. In its place was a husk. You felt nothing. You knew nothing but numbness now. 

Your steps dragged as you made it to the edge of the hangar. Coruscant was all around you. Speeders, workers, droids…everyone was living their lives as yours fell apart, leaving you with nothing.

This was the next logical conclusion. 

Padme was buried.

Cody…was gone. Alive but gone mentally. In a state similar to you. Empty. Destroyed. 

Obi-wan, Ahoska, Anakin...dead when the clones turned on them.

The Jedi…murdered in their own temple.

Hardcase, Fives, Tup, Kix, Jesse…

Rex.

Everyone you fought alongside. Everyone you dedicated your life to. Everyone you loved.

Gone. 

It was logical for you to join them. No one else would understand. Not your family. Not your friends. 

They were your heart. Your blood. Without them, your organs failed. Your brain died. 

Now, it was time for your life to end. To join them. 

You maintained your balance as you stared down the edge. How long would it take to reach the bottom, you wondered. 

“I’ll find out, Rex.” you whispered. 

You stepped off, to let gravity do its job. 

Until a pair of arms wrapped around your middle and yanked you back.

[awkward-tension-art]

Ruins of a Republic Chp.5 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 4. Chapter 6.

Depression

Warnings: Depression, grief, hallucinations that continue to get worse, reader is medic/doctor, reader insert, death, PTSD, trauma, reader is genuinely in an unsafe headspace, Self-Harm, Gender-neutral reader, no use of (Y/N), Reader's mental state is getting worse, Reader x Rex, ANGST

Extra: Glitch text added to visually show hallucinations/Mental Decline

SEVERE WARNING: This chapter has implications of a severe mental break and dangerous headspace. If you, or anyone you know struggles with suicidal thoughts, PLEASE use these resources to help you: International Suicide Prevention Hotlines

̵͎͆̽ ̵̘͍̖͆͊͠Ń̶̟ö̸̯͛t̸͇̼̦̀ ̶̳͈̳̇̂͝o̷͓̐ķ̶̢͙̈.̶̵̧͇͎̿͆̽N̶͖̭̆o̴̱͎͒͐t̶̩̾ ̵͌͜o̴̯̺͆͑̕k̴̩̝͖̃͌.̸̩̾͌N̵͚̱͓̐̅ơ̸̎̅ͅt̶͙̓͜ ̸͕͘o̶̢̼̔k̶̮̑̾.̷͙̈́̔͐ ̷̡̦̩͒N̵͎̉̂̾o̴͙͒͛t̷̘̳́͒ ̸̻̖͗̀͜͝o̸̻̩̬̽͛̾k̷̨̯͊͒.̶̮̀͐ ̶̡͈̝͋N̴̛͕̈́͂ö̴͖́̽̈ẗ̷̟͖̣́͋ ̴͇͗ǒ̶̠͚̄̓ḱ̸̳͓̩͗.̴̢͓̒ ̵̘͍̖͆͊͠t̶̘̋͑ ̵̻̽o̶̳͐k̴͕̺̒.̸͈̈́̓ ̵̗̐̉N̴̬̦̋͠o̶͛͜t̷͖̒̀ͅ ̷̻̩͝o̵͔̣͝k̶̰̰̒.̵͍͒ ̷̛̬̃N̶̮̔o̵̫͐̅t̵͔͆̍ ̵͔̞͐̒ȯ̶̫̈́k̷̡͈̾.̷̢͘ ̴͉̞̌͘N̶͔̩̄̈́o̸̡͎̔t̴̞̱̏̚ ̶͚̣̔ŏ̵̲k̵̝͝.̵̹̍ ̶̡͓͂͂N̷̳̭̂o̵͈̺̐͝ț̷̈̕ ̷̬̏̒ọ̵̫̄k̵̙̹̾̓.̵͇̻̎ ̸͍̤̆N̸̼̈́ǒ̶̯ẗ̵́̒ͅ ̶̖͌̚ō̷͖̣̅k̷̟̙͌́.̴͎̓ ̸̱̚N̶̘̭͋͆o̷̱̍t̸̡̮̅́ ̸͇͘͜õ̶̫̦̕k̴̤̫͋.̴͖͆̃ ̴͔̥̂͋N̵̰̮̈́o̶͎͆̊t̴̼̗̽ ̶̡̯̚o̴̤̅̅k̸̲̇̎.̷̨̐͜Ǹ̶̰̓o̷̫̳͆t̴̥̬̂̇ ̷̡͖̽o̸̤͆ķ̸̚͝.̵̢̩͝ ̵̮͐̅N̴͓̿̑ò̶̪͋t̴̰͗͜ ̴̜͊̀ŏ̴̫ḵ̵͖͗.̴̭͉̈́ ̶̜̇Ń̷̹o̴̝̓̽t̶̮͊ ̶̪͖̉o̶̺͖͌̌k̸͇͙̀.̶͔̝̓ ̵̨́N̸̢̙̚o̴̟͉̍̉t̵͉̍ ̸̣̀ó̵̝k̸̫͑.̷̬͖̂̋ ̶̩̐̕͜N̷̠̈́͝o̸̳̩̓ṱ̶̡̄̉ ̶̪͙̈́̌ȯ̴̧͔k̷̲̰̎̈́.̶͍̜̀ ̶̲͌̎N̸͈̳̈́ố̵͍̬t̵̠̊ ̸̯̅͊ó̶̟͓k̴̯̼̔.̵̯̜̍ ̷̭̦̀N̶̪̺̋̾o̵͖̮͗̃t̴͇̬͗ ̶͖̲͐͘o̷̟̫̔̊k̵̘̹̎.̸̦̄̓ ̴̹̎͆N̶͙̈́͠ŏ̸̢̙̅t̴̹̄͝ ̷̞̐o̷̢͆k̸͙̑.̸͙̅̓Ń̸͉̲ô̴͙̳͌t̵̻͚̆ ̷̠̔ǫ̵͆͆ͅķ̶̈.̷̺͓͛̑ ̸͚̀̚N̸̬̥̿o̸̠̦͆̅t̸̰̿ ̵̣́̕o̸͕͕͛̾k̴͇̈́̓.̴͋̆ͅ ̶͇͑Ņ̴̽õ̵͍͊t̵̢͈̎ ̶͔̈o̷͖͗̋ḱ̴͇.̵̰̭̈̊ ̸̪̓N̵̢̋͆ǒ̶̮ť̸͍̪̀ ô̸̮k̵̲͑.̸̟͝ ̴̹̂Ǹ̶͎ô̴͇t̴̨͌ ̵̧̀o̷͚̅k̷̨̚.̸͎̊ ̸̬͊N̴̻̈́o̶͕͊t̷̹͝ ̴̻̈́ơ̶̥k̷̨̽.̴͕̈́ ̶̺̾N̷̨̎o̸͙͊t̸̫́ ̸̥̓o̸͚͐ǩ̵͍.̵͛͜ ̴̹́Ṉ̷̑ŏ̶͇t̶̖̊ ̴͎̏o̸͕͑k̴̫̓.̴̗͗ ̵̪̔N̷̯͘ó̵͖ṱ̵͛ ̴͈̽o̸̥̿k̵̢̀.̷̞̈́ ̸̞̀Alone. N̷͓̍ö̸̜t̵̑͜ ̶̧̎o̸̳̽k̴̨̿.̷̧̈́ ̷̩̀N̶̙͐o̷͉͊t̴̻̾ ̷̗͋ö̷̭́k̸̭͘.̴̥̏N̵̤̿o̵̺̊t̸̛̠ ̸̲̾ȍ̴̯k̸̥̆.̷̖̾ ̷͎͠N̶͓͊ô̶͖t̵̩̏ ̴̼̚ǒ̷̜k̵̢̓.̷̭̅ ̶͖͋N̵̝̎ŏ̶͜t̸̟̒ ̸̯̈ơ̸̠k̴͕̚.̴̦̽ ̸͎̈N̴̑͜o̷̙̚t̸̹̚ ̵͕̃o̵̹͐k̴̘̈́.̷̳̽N̵̤͂o̴͇͒t̴͚̀ ̷̫̏o̸̙͌k̷̬͛.̶̨͑ ̶̣͐ ̴̫̏ő̴̢k̸͉͆.̴͖́N̶͙̅o̴͕̿t̷̥̂ ̴̪̐ö̷̰́ḱ̸̮.̶̙̂ ̶̮̾Ṇ̸͒õ̸̙t̵̬͆ ̸̛͍ȏ̷̢k̴̮̍.̶̫͐ ̸̰͠Ń̴ͅo̶̺̍t̸̘̏ ̷͚͗o̶̩͝k̴̭͊.̷̪͝ ̸̧́N̶͓̑o̶̹͗t̶̰͂ ̶̩̈ǒ̵͈k̶̭̀.̸̱̋ ̶̤̇N̶̺̑o̵̧̔t̷̤̊ ̵̙̆o̷̭̿k̶̟̾.̴̯̆ ̴͓͠Ṋ̷͠õ̵̟ẗ̴̯́ ̶̥̒o̵̤͂k̶̳̕.̷͗ͅ ț̶̓ ̶͚̑o̴̾͜k̷̍ͅ.̵͈̓ ̷̠̎N̷̮̆o̷̘͌t̵͔͋ ̷͔͆o̸͕̽k̶̫͛.̶̥̿ ̴̣̓N̴̘̽o̶̺͠t̶͙́ ̴͚̅o̶̫͊k̷̘͌.̴̰̽ ̵͕̄N̴̜͒ȍ̵̲ẗ̶̹́ ̵̨͝o̴̘͗k̶͓͘.̷̗̌ ̴͙́N̵̮͗o̸͎͆t̵̫̋ ̵̦̍õ̵̫ǩ̶̝.̵̱̚N̶͔͝ơ̶̢t̶͍̾ ̷̠̂ŏ̷̼k̷̪̈́.̷̣̋ ̴̝͑Ṇ̶̽ȍ̷͉t̸̃ͅ ̵̣̿o̴͇͊k̵̰̆.̴͌͜ ̶̺́N̷̬͂o̶̢̕t̸̳͠ ̶̞̾o̷̮̚k̶̭̀.̵͕͂ ̷̫̂N̴̹̕o̷͑͜t̷͓̔ ̷̫̃o̶̡͋k̵̤̑.̷̼̒ ̷̟̑Ń̸̝o̵̥̔ẗ̴̯́ ̴͚̀o̴̡͋k̶̪̅.̵͓̈́ ̶̥̇N̴̯͌o̴̐ͅt̸̩̑ ̴̟̉o̴̡͑k̷̞̾.̸̠́ ̸̘̔N̸͙͝o̷̥͝t̷̺͝ ̸̭͋ŏ̴̢k̷͖̕.̵̯͝ ̵̪́Ṅ̶̦o̷̳̓t̷̳̾ ̶͈̎ǫ̷͂k̷͉̿.̷̖́N̸̙̊o̷͖͘ṱ̴͂ ̵̝̂o̸̖̔k̵͔͠.̷̮̍ ̶͉̌N̶͈̎ô̵ͅt̵̨͑ ̵̼̐ǒ̸̬k̴͙͝.̵̙̈ ̸̗̆Ǹ̸̤o̷̦̓t̸̫͒ ̵̣͘o̶̠͑ḵ̶̃.̵̳̐ ̵̟̌All Alone.N̷̛̙o̶̯͘t̷͈̀ ̵̥̍ȍ̴̱k̶͔̾.̴̹̏ ̷̫͋N̸̝̕ơ̴̳t̸̟͗ ̴̰́ơ̴̤k̷͈̐.̷̫́ ̸N̴̩̑o̴̖̾ț̵͛ ̶̟̋ó̴̢k̵̪͗.̶͈̒ ̶̱̈́N̸͍͒o̴͝ͅt̴̞͐ ̵̳̆ȯ̶͙k̴̝͘.̶̩͗ t̷̥́ ̶͚̌ǒ̴͍k̶͎̐.̵̻̔N̵̦͗o̵̩̒ẗ̵̲́ ̵̬̐o̴͍͘ ̶̩̂o̷͖̚k̴̻̀.̸͙̐ ̵̻͠N̴̹͐ö̴̭́t̵͈͠ ̶͎͐ö̴̢k̸̗͑.̵̱͌ ̸̧̙̒o̴̰̤̓k̶̩̘͒͝.̸̢͔̒͐ ̸̝̙͆N̸̬͝o̵̺̞͋̄t̵͈́ ̷̦̎o̵͉̖̎͒ķ̵̞̈́͛.̸̡̦̓N̵͍͙͋ỏ̵̺͝t̸̹͋ ̶̖͋ó̴̫ḵ̸̖̎͑.̵̢̱͆ ̴̫͎̒N̵̪͌̚o̵͖̒ț̴̢̽ ̸̳̤́͒õ̵̻k̷̥̎͜.̶̛̞̪̾Ņ̴̱̎̽ò̵̗t̴͚͇͗ ̴̱͖͐o̵̘̭͛͠k̸͈̪̋.̷̝̫́̈́ ̵̹͛N̸̹̻͋o̴̲̓͑ť̸̨̪ ̶̮̯͌o̷̖̅̌k̸̛̜̲.̶̙̋ ̷̯̠͆́N̸͇͑o̷̜͛̀ͅt̴͈̆͜ ̵̥̄ò̸̳̰ķ̵̽̄.̴̯͗ͅ ̸̡̊N̶̺̺̕o̵̮̙͌̾t̸̘̘̔̀ ̴̺̦͊̒N̷̛͇͍̖̚o̸͔͙̳͐̄͘t̷̡ ̶̢̗̭́̑́o̸̝̓͛k̶̯̞̒̏̾.̸̳̈́̋ ̸N̵̗͔̏́͜ǫ̷̜̑̋̚t̴͎͖̤͊ ̷̼̒͗͌ͅo̴̧̥̾̒̓k̷̢̩͛.̶̟̦̜͒́ ̶͚͈̃N̸͙̻̲͘o̵̰͘t̷̲͇̃ ̶̢̼͌̒͜͠o̷̡̻͋͌͒ͅķ̵͙͔̏́̚.̷͇̅́̀N̸̝̲̪̂̏ő̸̢̰ț̴̟̿̂̄ ̵̝͍̭́̉̇ȏ̷͎̟ḵ̴̡͖̎.̷͉̩͎͋̉̚ ̷̟̥̻͊͘͝Ṉ̷̄o̷̘͗̇t̶̛̞͓́ ̴͕͆̇̚ò̵̞k̷̺̗̮̒̆.̸͙̳͒̎̆ ̸̩͈̑N̶̢̳̲̍ỏ̸͎͐ť̶̮ ̷͓̟̊ö̵̝̩̺́̄k̶̙̏̋̚.̷̟̑͒̇ ̴̰̪̈Ń̴̻̚ö̸̢́̇̇t̷̘͇̫́̚ ̷̞̝̺͆͗ŏ̵͓̰̲͌k̶̛͈͗.̶̹͠ ̶̧̎Ń̴̨̝͓o̶̰̾̽͘͜t̸̥̬̂̾ ̷̖̺̈́̅̐o̸̲̼̍̀k̷̪̀̐.̶̝̭̫̊̚͝ ̸͈̱͆N̴͚̽̍̚ͅo̵̘̳̞͂̈́ţ̷̞̖̾̋̓ ̸͖̗̆́͋o̶͔̲̒̈́̍ͅk̷̨̘̀̅.̵̛̠̀ ̴̼̺̼̏̔̈N̵̝̜̒̾ǫ̵̧̔t̵͚̓̈͝ ̴͔̰͓͆̉̀ö̶̭̠́k̶̪̬̎͒̀.̸̹̻͒ ̶͓̅͝N̷̼̊̊ǫ̶̚t̷̩̻̅͛̄ ̴̥̭̓̅o̸̝̠͍̅̒͘k̸̡̻̈́̎̓.̸̳̬̇̈Alone. N̷̛̫̋̚ô̷̩̂t̵͕͌̾ ̵͔͋̌͛o̷͇͆͐k̶̝̿̎͜.̸̻̺͓̈́̅͋ ̵̲̟̩̔̊̈́N̸̗͈̐̚o̷̤̚t̴͓͔̍ ̵̧̮̂o̵̢̺̙͘͠ḵ̶̨͝.̴̡̈́ ̴͎̜̣̑N̸͈͗͝o̵̳̐̚ͅt̸̤͛͐̒͜ ̷̖͐́ͅo̴̰̦̓k̸.̴͍͈̖̂̈͝ ̶̭͑̋N̸̨͖̠͝ǒ̸̟͍t̶̨̠̓͘ ̷̗̫̙̃͊͊o̸̻̳̺̾̃k̵̠͎̦̽.̵̳̹̍ ̸̥̻̔N̸̡͎̈͒ỏ̴̧̯̪t̵̫̓ ̶̢̈́ǫ̷̮͆̒͐k̴̗̦̋.̶̼͌ ̸͕͎̀Ṉ̶̭̣̓̇ò̷̯̱̤̊̾ṭ̶̖̪̿̎ ̷̨̮͛o̶̩͂̆̚ḳ̷̲͗͊̎.̷̳̥̀̏̓ ̷̢͙͕̊͛N̶͓̓̕ǒ̷̘͍̾̈́ẗ̶̫̜̼̌̇ ̸̘̚ó̶̫k̵̰̺̀̎̃.̶̻̭̂ ̸̱̌N̵̘͎͉̔̽o̵͚̜̓ͅt̴̤̘̓̍ ̵̧̺̪̿o̶̹̞͂́͊k̴̮̻͎̓͒.̵̱͆̋̍N̴̮͎̥̏ợ̴̆̇t̵̼̜̋̈͌ ̶̧͉̰͋̌̈́o̵̬͚̮͆̃̕k̵̡̟̯̓̕.̷̲̉̅͛ ̷͕̝͚̊N̸̡̮͕͆̍̕ò̸̙͘t̸͖̟͂͑̌ ̵̦̗̎o̶̢͖͐͋k̴̕.̴͔̖̜͘̕ ̴̡̯̀͠N̶̞͐̕o̷̬͒͌̆t̵̬ ̸̡̍̕o̴̲̓̅k̷̖̱̃.̸͚̍̑͝ ̵̤̆̕N̵̲̮͙̒̓̐o̷̝̖̝̍t̸͍̜̃ ̵̪͎̔̚o̷͈̖̗͐͛͒k̸̝̿̒͂.̶̨̟̄ ̴̙̱̗̏̔N̸̨̘̈́̀o̴̖̣̓̐ṫ̵̮̼͓̃͒ ̶̣̒͗õ̷̺̋k̷̢̐͒͒.̸̠̗̈̆͜ ̶̥̣̞͋̋N̸̝̦̑̿o̶̭̹̠̕t̸̜͕̤̃̅ ̷̠͒ǫ̷͊̅ḱ̷̢̐ͅ.̷̧̥̪̈́̃̑ ̴̺̜̈́̔̔N̸̗̊̕͝ō̶̳̄̈́ț̸̯̣̽͌͝ ̴̢͗ȯ̸̞̭͉̽̑ḱ̷ͅ.̸̥̗̀̃̄ ̸̪̀̏Ň̸̢̗̞o̷̹͆ţ̷̪̞͐ ̴̺̯͈̿o̷͙̫̜͗̚ḱ̷̺̜̙͗̕.̸̟Ń̶̟ö̸̯͛t̸͇̼̦̀ ̶̳͈̳̇̂͝o̷͓̐ķ̶̢͙̈.̶̧͇̿Ń̶̟ö̸̯͛t̸͇̼̦̀ ̶̳͈̳̇̂͝o̷͓̐ķ̶̢͙̈.̶̧͇̿Ń̶̟ö̸̯͛t̸͇̼̦̀ ̶̳͈̳̇̂͝o̷͓̐ķ̶̢͙̈.̶̧͇̿Ń̶̟ö̸̯͛t̸͇̼̦̀ ̶̳͈̳̇̂͝o̷͓̐ķ̶̢͙̈.̶̧͇̿Ń̶̟ö̸̯͛t̸͇̼̦̀ ̶̳͈̳̇̂͝o̷͓̐ķ̶̢͙̈.̶̧͇̿Ń̶̟ö̸̯͛t̸͇̼̦̀ ̶̳͈̳̇̂͝o̷͓̐ķ̶̢͙̈.̶̧͇̿Ń̶̟ö̸̯͛t̸͇̼̦̀ ̶̳͈̳̇̂͝o̷͓̐ķ̶̢͙̈.̶̧͇̿Ń̶̟ö̸̯͛t̸͇̼̦̀ ̶̳͈̳̇̂͝o̷͓̐ķ̶̢͙̈

Rex?

[awkward-tension-art]

Ruins of a Republic Chp.4 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 3. Chapter 5.

Bly

Warnings: Depression, grief, hallucinations that continue to get worse, reader is medic/doctor, reader insert, death, PTSD, trauma, reader is genuinely in an unsafe headspace, Self-Harm, character (Not reader) commits suicide, Gender-neutral reader, no use of (Y/N), Reader's mental state is getting worse, Reader x Rex, ANGST

Extra: Glitch text added to visually show hallucinations. If there is an accessibility issue, I will DM the full chapter without the glitch text if asked!

SEVERE WARNING: A character commits suicide in this chapter. If you, or anyone you know struggles with suicidal thoughts, PLEASE use these resources to help you: International numbers for suicide prevention.

You are not alone. things DO get better.

“Baar'ur! Baar'ur!”

Medic!

You jerked your head up from finishing your sutures of a clone troopers ankle. There was panicked mando’a outside the medical bay. Wordlessly, you stood, grabbed a medical kit and sprinted to the hallway. Two others of the medical staff followed.

You expected something different. A Corrie that got hurt taking down a criminal. Maybe a head injury from training between two shinies. 

Not Bly on the floor, with bleeding wrists. 

“Vod, gedet'ye!” Wolffe was kneeling over him, white and grey armor painted with crimson, “Tenn gar sur'haai!” His panic was palpable by his slipping into mando’a.

Your mind snapped into focus and you sprinted to Bly’s side, “How did this happen!?” Immediately getting to your knees, you took in his state.

Bly was pale and clammy. His lips were tinted with blue, indicating extreme loss of blood. Under the chestplate of his armor, you could tell his breathing was rapid. 

Hypoxia! Severe blood loss leading to lack of oxygen.

You snapped your head back at the two other medical officers behind you, “Get a gurney! Now!” Without hesitating, your hands were on your medical kit. With swift, practiced movements, you ripped off the armor of his upper arm and got a tourniquet around the limb. 

"̴G̸o̵o̷d̶ ̵j̵o̸b̶!̸"̵ ̴K̴i̷x̷ ̸n̴o̷d̸d̵e̶d̸ ̷n̸e̵x̷t̴ ̸t̵o̶ ̷y̵o̶u̸,̴ ̸"̵Y̸o̵u̴'̶r̵e̵ ̴a̸l̵w̵a̵y̵s̵ ̸m̷u̸c̵h̴ ̷b̶e̷t̸t̷e̶r̷ ̸a̸t̶ ̶t̷h̸a̵t̸ ̷t̶h̷a̴n̴ ̴I̵ ̸a̵m̴.̶"̷

You didn’t pay the medic any mind as you did the same for the other limb, “Wolffe!” Your words snapped the former commander out of his panicked state, “How did this happen!?”

“Ni vaabir not kar'taylir!” He gasped out before clearing his throat, “I don’t know! I just found him-”

“It’s alright now,” You reassured as you got bandages tightly on Bly’s wrists, “I got him.” As soon as the gurney arrived, you and the other two medical officers worked to get Bly on it. After a brief moment of struggle you shouted at them, “Back off! You three, help me!” Once the officers failed, you pointed to three bystanding clone troopers. Of course they jumped immediately into action. 

It's day 26 since the Republic fell, only day 3 since returning from Naboo, and the Empire has wasted no time in replacing the clone medics in the medical bay. In their place were incompetent natural born humans who lacked the strength and precision to properly care for the troopers.

Thankfully, Bly was secured with the help of actual troopers and without wasting any more time you got him into the medical bay properly. 

Control blood loss. Do not remove bandages even if they bleed through.

"̵W̵h̶a̴t̸ ̸e̴l̷s̵e̴,̷ ̸D̶o̸c̴t̴o̴r̸?̴"̶

“Keep bandaging to avoid further blood loss. I can use bacta once I have it ready.” You answered, turning your head to nod to Kix. 

“Good plan, doctor.” One of the medical officers answered instead. 

“Both of you, get out!” you commanded the two of them. They rushed out without another word.

You worked fast and worked alone as you tended to Bly’s wounds. You wrapped up his injured wrists securely enough to buy time and get bacta. Once the patches were ready, you removed the bandages as quickly as you could. 

Wasting no more time, once his wounds were revealed, you got the bacta patches on and immediately wrapped his wrists in clean gauze. As soon as the bleeding was stalled, you had the clone trooper hooked onto a monitoring screen and an IV of saline. 

Bly desperately needed a transfusion, and Wolffe was more than willing to give the blood. 

“You found him like this?” You asked the former commander as you gently stuck the syringe into his arm. 

Wolffe didn’t give any indication of pain, “Yea…He...had been talking about the Jedi. About what happened.” 

Order 66.

“He…followed the order?”

“Aayla was pregnant when he did so.” 

Your heart dropped. Bly had not only taken the life of the Jedi he loved, he took the life of his child. That…would break anyone.

"̸o̵h̵.̷.̸.̵B̴l̴y̷.̶.̶.̷"̶ ̶R̷e̵x̷ ̵w̴h̵i̵s̵p̸e̴r̸e̸d̷,̴ ̴l̵o̷o̶k̷i̴n̵g̷ ̸f̶r̸o̵m̵ ̸Wo̸l̵f̷f̶e̶ ̵t̸o̸ ̸B̴l̶y̵,̴ ̶w̶h̶o̶ ̵r̴e̴m̴a̶i̴n̴e̷d̸ ̵a̷s̸l̷e̴e̴p̷ ̸o̵n̷ ̵t̸h̷e̸ ̶m̶e̷d̴i̵c̶a̸l̸ ̸b̶e̵d̸.̶

“He talked about seeing her.” He spoke again, “He’d see her. Speak to her. I should have brought him to you sooner…” 

“You found him just in time,” You put your hand over his own, “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry, Wolffe.” Once enough blood was taken from him, you got the IV hooked up to Bly. Almost immediately, his heart rate calmed and his blood pressure stabilized.

You sighed in relief, until the intercom chimed, calling your name. 

“See Admiral Rampart.” 

With a groan, you got up. “Wolffe can you..?”

“I’ll stay with him.” The former commander nodded, “Good luck, vod.”

Vod.

Sibling.

Wordlessly, you made your way out to the hallway and to Ramparts office. 

Just like the medical staff, the Empire had removed all the clone troopers from any positions of power. Commanders were demoted and in their place were human admirals. Many fought in the Clone wars, but there were others that seemed to pop up out of nowhere. Those ones were making changes too quickly for your taste.

Your biggest fear at the moment was the Clone Troopers getting replaced entirely. All they knew was servitude. And with a shortened lifespan, they didn’t have the time to know anything else. 

"̵W̸h̶a̷t̸ ̷d̶i̴d̵ ̷y̷o̸u̵ ̷d̵o̸,̸ ̶D̸o̵c̶?̵"̴ ̶H̵a̴r̷d̶c̴a̵s̶e̷ ̶w̵a̵s̵ ̷w̴a̴l̵k̵i̵n̸g̴ ̷b̶e̴s̵i̶d̸e̸ ̶y̴o̴u̷.̶

“I don’t know.” You answered out loud, not caring when another trooper turned his head to look at you, “Probably wants an update on Bly.”

"̶T̷e̶l̸l̸ ̸R̸a̸m̵p̵a̵r̵t̶ ̶t̸o̶ ̶s̵h̶o̴v̵e̸ ̴i̶t̸.̸”̷

“I will.”

Hardcase disappeared when you got to the Admirals office. His door was opened so you walked inside, not entirely caring if he got on your case about respect. 

Nothing mattered anymore. 

His office was dreary. Almost entirely colorless. Behind the admiral was a large window, revealing Coruscant and letting light inside. In front of his desk were the two medical officers you sent away. Even with the sun outside shining on them, you couldn’t describe anything noteworthy. 

Hair color. Skin tone. Build. It didn’t matter. They weren’t clones, so your spiteful, broken mind refused to care. Refused to take note of anything with them. You didn’t even know their names.

Rampart called your name before addressing you, “Doctor, do you know how long it takes to get to Coruscant from Kamino?” His arms were behind his back. His uniform was as neat and colorless as the rest of his office. There wasn’t even a strand of brown hair out of place. 

You, frankly, hated him more than the two nitwit medical officers. Which is why he stood out among most humans in the Imperial HQ.

“3 days, with a Class 1 hyperdrive.” You answered, putting your hands behind your back. The position irritated your new brace, but the pain was barely noticeable. 

“3 days.” He confirmed, “Good guess, Doctor.”

“I lived on Venators the entirety of the war. I know hyperdrives.” you responded bluntly, “That wasn’t a guess.”

Rampart looked you up and down, “Ah, so you know how tiring it is to travel for those days, and the moment you touch down, two of your staff come to you about their irate boss?”

Your eyes snapped to the dunces in the chairs.

Those idiots…

You cleared your throat, “Sir.” 

“Admiral.” He corrected.

It took everything inside of you not to bark an insult, “Admiral, these two…officers, do not know the nuances of clone trooper medical care.” You also had to stop yourself from swearing at everyone in the room, “They’re untrained. Naive. And frankly, I refuse to work with anyone other than a trained clone medic.”

Rampart's grimace was obvious, “You refuse to work with anyone who isn’t a clone?” he spoke the last word like it was vile to him. 

“No, I will work with someone who is properly trained in clone medical care.” Your tone was flat, blunt. And barely hiding your anger, “These two, are not.”

“Such as?”

“The medic of the 104th battalion is a good start.”

Rampart looked you up and down. After a moment he spoke again, “Doctor, have you slept?” 

No.

“Yes, Admiral.” You lied, “I’m a doctor. I know what I need to be healthy and ready to work.” 

“Fine.” He turned his back to you, “The two of you will be moved to the Imperial Medical Facility. You, Doctor, are dismissed.”

Fine by me.

You left without another word. As soon as you began to walk down the hall, Rex was at your side. 

"̴H̵e̴'̴s̵ ̷r̸i̵g̵h̴t̵,̷ ̶c̷y̵a̷r̸e̷.̴"̴ ̸T̸h̵e̷ ̴c̶a̷p̴t̷a̷i̵n̵ ̴k̸e̶p̷t̷ ̸p̵a̶c̵e̵ ̶w̸i̴t̴h̴ ̷y̵o̶u̴r̵ ̶o̴w̵n̶ ̴s̴t̸e̷p̶s̸,̵ ̵"̸Y̵o̷u̵ ̸n̵e̶e̷d̶ ̴s̸l̸e̴e̶p̶.̶"̶

“I am sleeping.” You corrected your lover as you hurried back to the medical bay. Hopefully Bly was already awake and you could begin a psych evaluation. 

R̵e̶x̶ ̸d̷i̸d̷n̴'̵t̶ ̴s̴e̶e̵m̷ ̸c̶o̵n̷v̷i̴n̷c̷e̷d̷,̷ ̵"̷N̸o̷t̸ ̴w̶e̸l̷l̸ ̷e̵n̴o̵u̴g̸h̷.̴"̷

You sighed in irritation, “Rex I don’t have the time-!” Your voice caught in your throat. Thankfully the hallway was empty, save for a passing astromech. but if anyone caught you speaking to a ghost…

The idea of leaving the medical bay in the hands of idiots sent a shiver up your spine. 

You kept your mouth shut the rest of the way back. Rex followed, but remained silent, giving up on chastising you for your lack of rest. 

The door opened and instead of seeing Bly sitting up, he was still asleep. Wolffe was seated next to him, his back to you. The monitoring machines were off, filling the entire bay with quiet. 

“I’m sorry, Wolffe,” You sighed, walking inside, “‘Rampart was-”

“Time of death is 15:43.” 

“What?” 

The former commander turned to face you, cheeks marked with still wet tears, “That's what you need to know, right? Time of death?” 

Your blood ran cold, “What…happened…?”

“I think he took Latheniol. Before he hurt himself.” Wolffe mumbled as you approached slowly, “I guess to make sure he…Soon after you left his heart stopped.”

As soon as you got to Bly’s side, you fell to your knees. Your eyes were on his face, taking in the details. His tattoos. His scars. Slowly, carefully, you raised your hand to stroke his cheek. 

It was cold. So cold…

Cold.

Cold.

Gone. 

Dead. 

Dead. 

Like the others. Like Hardcase. Like Tup. Like Fives. And Anakin. And Ahsoka. Padme. The Jedi. 

Like Rex.

[awkward-tension-art]

Ruins of a Republic Chp.3 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 2. Chapter 4.

Spiral

Warnings: Depression, grief, hallucinations that continue to get worse, talk of a former injury, reader is medic/doctor, reader insert, death, PTSD, trauma, panic attack, swearing, reader is genuinely in an unsafe headspace, Potential Self-Harm, Gender-neutral reader, no use of (Y/N), Reader's mental state is getting worse, Reader x Rex, ANGST

Extra: Glitch text added to visually show hallucinations. If there is an accessibility issue, I will DM the full chapter without the glitch text if asked!

Once the funeral was over, you returned to Coruscant as quickly as possible. Not even a day in Naboo and you had to return to work. Thankfully, Senator Organa gave you and Senator Chuchi, among a few others, a ride.

You kept your hands in your lap on the ship, eyes forward. Despite having a small private room to yourself for the duration of the hyperspace trip, about 8 days, you didn’t move much from your seat. 

Ahoska was sitting across from you. The spunky togruta was tapping her foot, impatiently.

“When are we̷ ̴g̷o̴i̴n̸g̸ ̷t̶o̷ ̸g̶e̷t̶ ̸t̵here?” She huffed.

“It's a few days.” You responded aloud.

She groaned, sinking into her seat, “I̶t̸ ̷w̸a̶s̷ ̶o̸n̶ly hours to get to Na̵b̶o̶o̸.̵ ̸Why is it tak̷i̵n̵g̵ ̸days to ge̶t̷ ̴b̴a̵c̷k̶ ̸h̷o̴m̷e̸?”

You didn’t look away from her before answering, “I was asleep a majority of the trip to Theed.”

Ahsoka put her face on her fist and leaned forward, “No you weren’t̵.̷ ̴Y̸o̴u̶ ̴w̸e̷r̶e̶ ̴j̴u̷s̶t̶ in bed sta̴r̵i̴n̴g̶ ̴a̷t̴ ̸t̷h̵e̵ ̸c̴e̵iling.” She corrected you. 

“I know.” 

“You kn̷o̵w̸,̷ ̵I̶ ̷c̷a̷n̵ ̵ ̷t̵e̴a̴c̶h̵ you how to meditate. It helps c̶a̵l̴m̷ ̸the mind.” She suggested. 

If I was calm, would you disappear?

Would Rex? He wasn’t present at the moment, but you cherished the sight of him. Hallucination or not. You could hear his voice and sometimes feel his hand on you. As if he truly was by your side again.

You couldn't let that go. Not yet. 

 You closed your eyes and shook your head, “No.”

“̵S̷u̵i̵t̵ ̴y̷o̵u̸r̴s̶e̷l̸f̵.̸”̸ ̶

When you opened your eyes again, she was gone. There was nothing but silence and crippling loneliness. 

The feeling of hyperspace, the hum of a ship's engine, it used to bring you comfort. Bring you a sense of security. It would be a quiet time during the war. Which let you bond and relax with your fellow soldiers. To help them in the medical bay.

But now? All of this reminded you of loss.

Of something you would never get back. 

You’d need to tell your family, at some point. Tell them that you gave your heart to a clone. That he was gone now and you were broken beyond repair.

Rex never did meet your parents. He never met your former friends and coworkers in the hospital on Coruscant. 

Foolishly, you wanted to wait until the war was over. When the Clone Troopers had the freedom to live. Pursue their wants and desires. 

Oh how stupid you were. How naive. 

“Yo̴u̶’̷r̷e̶ ̵n̷o̶t̵ stupid,” Fives chimed from where he was sitting on the bed with Hardcase, “You’re smart! Har̴d̵w̸o̴r̴king! The b̷e̴s̸t̵ ̷d̸o̴c̶t̶o̸r̷ ̵t̴h̴e̴ ̸5̷0̶1̶st could ever ask for!” the trooper next to him nodded. 

His words caused tears in your eyes. Your throat tightened and you let out a shaky sob. As you cried, Hardcase snapped.

“G̵o̵o̸d̵ ̶j̷o̶b̶,̶ ̶di'kut!” He chastised the ARC trooper, “Y̶o̴u̶ ̸m̸a̷d̶e̴ Doc cry!” 

“̸I̷ ̶d̷i̸d̶n̴’̶t̷ ̸m̸e̷a̷n̶ ̶t̸o̶!̶”

Between your struggling breaths, you managed to plead, “I miss you! Please…please come back!” Uselessly, you lunged, as if trying to grab them into a hug. However, your body bounced off the bed, leaving you kneeling on the floor. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. Please! Just come back!”

Everything inside of you hurt. Your heart. Your lungs. Your very cells pulsed with pain. 

You couldn’t breathe. Your hyperventilating was causing you to be lightheaded. 

“H̵̜̃a̵͙̓ȃ̵̹l̴̖̔u̷̘̎r̵̩͛,̷̱͊ ̴̥͛n̵̻̽e̶̼̿r̶̰̃ ̸̞̿ḱ̷͕a̴̢̋r̵͉̉'̷̲̇t̷̙̀a̶͚̍.” Rex was kneeling next to you, strong arms wrapped around your trembling body, “J̶u̸s̴t̶ ̴a̵s̸ ̴y̵o̴u̶’̵v̸e̵ ̷s̴h̸o̴w̸n̴ ̶t̵h̵e̷ ̸m̵e̴n̵…̷b̷r̶e̵a̷t̸h̵e̶.̶”̵

Your love held you as you cried yourself to sleep on the floor. The metal was cold, and it hurt your arm, but you had no strength to get up. Every part of your body screamed at you in grief. Your very blood was filled with mourning. 

Rex was on his side next to you, one gloved hand on your cheek, “N̵i̴ ̸k̶a̴r̵'̸t̵a̴y̵l̴ ̷g̸a̵r̴ ̴d̷a̶r̵a̷s̵u̸u̸m̷.” He whispered to you softly. 

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum sa pirusti,” you responded, throat hoarse. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, looking at his handsome face. Truthfully, it felt like you blinked and the ship landed on Coruscant. It took everything in your body to find the strength to get up. 

As soon as you did, the lightheadedness hit you.

Have you eaten? When was the last time you drank water?

Time was melting away. Just like your grip on reality. 

"̴y̶o̴u̷ ̶n̵e̶e̸d̵ ̶t̴o̸ ̶t̴a̶k̸e̶ ̸c̵a̸r̵e̸ ̶o̵f̵ ̷y̷o̷u̶r̷s̵e̸l̷f̶,̴ ̴k̴a̵r̷'̴t̵a̶.̷"̶ Rex chastised you tenderly. 

“I can’t…not without you.” You mumbled, keeping your gaze downward as you gathered your travel items, “It’s hard...” 

"̷I̴ ̵k̸n̶o̵w̴,̸ ̶l̵o̸v̶e̶.̸"̷ he sat on the bed and waited as you got your things together, "̵B̷u̵t̴ ̴y̷o̸u̵ ̶n̵e̴e̴d̶ ̵t̶o̷.̴ ̴f̸o̷r̶ ̴t̴h̵e̴ ̵m̶e̵n̴.̸"̷

“The men are gone, Rex!” You snapped at him, whirling around to meet his eyes. Instead, you were met with silence and an empty room. Realization slammed into you like a speeder. Your knees hit the ground and you began to cry again. 

Every emotion your broken brain could muster was out of your control.

Rage, depression, agony, grief…It was all too much for you to handle.

Nothing made sense to you anymore!

You punched the ground with your bad arm, snapping something in your brace. The next noise that ripped itself from your throat was in pain. Without thinking, you ripped the medical device off, revealing your muscle and nerves to the air. 

The burn was agonizing, but it was the only sensation you’ve properly felt since the war ended. 

Your ears were ringing too loudly for you to realize the door opened. 

Someone called your name, but it sounded distant. Fuzzy and unfocused. Slowly, you turned your head, unfocused gaze landing on Senator Chuchi. 

Her lovely orange eyes were wide and she covered her mouth with her hands. After her shock had passed, she dashed to your side, Through the haze and fog of your breakdown, you recognized your name leaving her lips. 

It took her shaking your shoulders before you could properly hear her, “What happened!?” She was focused on your exploded arm. 

Swallowing was hard, but you managed to do so in order to speak, “My brace…” You mumbled, “It broke.”

She flinched, “It…looks painful.” 

“Happened on Umbara…”

“I…see…”

She would know the official report on that planet. Krell’s betrayal was used to add fuel to the, at the time, rising anti-Jedi sentiment. You remembered the Senate arguing for days at whether the Jedi needed to pay for such a chaotic, messy and traumatizing situation.

You sighed and looked away from her, “I’m sorry to have worried you, Senator.”

The pantoran frowned at your words, “What….what are you planning to do now?”

“Go home.” You answered flatly. 

There was clear hesitation from Riyo. She seemed unsure at your words, “Maybe you should go to a hospital…” 

Right…

Slowly, you processed her words. Yea, your arm was in pure agony, but you didn’t want to speak to anyone else. You didn’t want to answer questions about your mental state. 

‘How did this happen?’

‘Why did you do this to yourself?’

The only person you’d trust was Kix. Or maybe even Fives’ significant other. 

But both of them were gone. Dead. 

“I’ll go to the medical bay in the military base.” You mumbled, finding a middle ground. Clone Troopers didn’t ask questions. Not the same way nat-born doctors did. 

That seemed to make Senatore Chuchi happy, “Good. Now come on, let’s get you up and out of here.” Her hands were around your good arm as she stood, helping you to your feet, “I’ll have your things dropped off at your home.”

Home?

What was home without those you loved?

You didn’t have the motivation to ask how she knew where you lived.

‘Not like it mattered.’ you thought to yourself.

When you stepped off the ship, Cody was there to meet you. The moment his eyes landed on your disheveled form, concern washed over his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. 

“My brace broke.” 

“D̶o̸c̷t̸o̸r̴!̶ ̵Y̷o̷u̴ ̶n̵e̶e̴d̷ ̷t̸o̵ ̷b̶e̵ ̶m̸o̵r̵e̸ ̵c̶a̷r̸e̶f̵u̸l̸.̷” Anakin was beside Cody, looking just as worried, “G̷e̵t̷ ̴t̶o̶ ̸t̶h̶e̷ ̵m̷e̵d̶i̴c̸a̵l̷ ̴b̸a̴y̵.̷ ̷L̷e̵t̴ ̸s̸o̷m̶e̷o̵n̵e̷ ̴h̶e̵l̶p̶ ̵y̷o̸u̴.̶”̵ 

Get out of my head.

You were placed in the hands of the commander. Once someone else was watching over you, Senator Chuchi felt relieved enough to leave you alone. As you and Cody walked back to the Republic Military-...The Imperial HQ, she called out to you, “I hope we speak again soon, Doctor!”

“Any news?” you asked your clone trooper friend. One quick glance at him and you could tell things had changed. His armor, normally painted with a sunburst yellow color, had been muted. Instead, he adorned a dull grey color. 

He nodded, brown eyes forward, “You need a chain code.” 

“The fuck is a chain code?” 

“Every citizen of the Empire is being given a number.” He answered with a sigh, “Once we get you patched up, you can go to a kiosk and get one.” 

You snorted, lightheaded again as a wave of pain washed over your body, “Ironic. Being given a number after spending so long with a name.” As you and him made your way to the Imperial HQ, the lack of color was…startling.

Even Coruscant seemed so much duller and monotoned…

Maybe it was you. The grief was turning your eyes. The losses of those you loved…

Without Rex…

There wasn’t any color in your life.

[awkward-tension-art]

Ruins of a Republic Chp.2 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 1. Chapter 3.

Padme Amidala

Warnings: Padme's Funeral, Depression, grief, hallucinations, reader is medic/doctor, reader, death, PTSD, trauma, Bail is trying his best, reader is genuinely in an unsafe headspace, Gender-neutral reader, no use of (Y/N), Reader's mental state is getting worse, Reader x Rex, ANGST

Extra: Glitch text added to visually show hallucinations. If there is an accessibility issue, I will DM the full chapter without the glitch text if asked!

You were allowed to see her before the precession. All friends and family did. 

It was an honor. To view Padme before she was guided to her eternal rest in her tomb. You had some time alone, to speak to her…to remember the times spent together…

There wasn’t a lot, admittedly. She was your patient by the end of the war. But before that?

Well, there was the time you, her and several others were trapped in Dr.Vindi’s lab. Everyone had been infected with the blue shadow virus and you scrambled to keep them alive until a cure was made outside the lab.

And the time you and her worked on a law to give clone troopers the right to medical privacy. The bill had been shot down anyway, but you spent a good few weeks with her. Lots of caf and late nights in her office.

“Oh Padme…” Your throat was tight, “Did you truly consider me a friend?”

How lonely was she? To look at your brief time together and cherish it?

Perhaps you cherished it too…looking back, her presence was a treasure. Your only regret now was not speaking to her more. 

By all the stars in the galaxy, she was beautiful. In mind, body and soul.

Her silky hair was laid around her head like a halo. The brown strands were decorated with white flowers, making her seem like a sleeping angel. 

Your eyes roamed over her, desperately looking for any signs of life. As if she’d wake up and stretch her arms above her head. With no hope left, you looked over her body, making sure nothing was out of place. 

She was wearing a beautiful blue dress. In her hands was a necklace. Simple, but one you could tell held so much value to her. 

“She lo̵o̵ks like a go̶d̸d̷e̴ss.” Fives whispered behind you, “Sh̷e̵  ̸w̵a̷s a beautiful per̸s̷on. Inside a̷n̷d̸ ̷ out.” 

“Yea…” You responded softly, “She was, wasn’t she?” 

“On̴e̴ ̶o̵f̷ ̵t̶he best.” Hardcase chimed in. 

Kix was across from you, on the other side of the casket. His brown eyes roamed over her, inquisitive and unsure. 

Your voice was hoarse as you called to him quietly, “Kix?” 

You were losing your mind. Speaking to hallucinations…

“She’s…We̸l̸l̷,̷ ̸s̶h̴e’s real…” He mumbled, “Bu̴t̵ ̸h̸e̵r̷ ̵s̸t̴o̴m̸ach…” His hand was over Padme’s baby bump, “I do̴n̷’t think it’s r̶e̷a̵l̷.” 

Slowly, carefully, you reached forward to confirm Kix’s suspicions. However, you paused when the door behind you opened. You didn’t bother to look back, it was probably one of Padme’s family members coming to begin the procession. Which means your time with her was over.

The voice wasn’t anyone in her family.

“Padme said you were clever.” Bail spoke, approaching you with his arms behind his back, “What can you tell, Doctor?” 

Your medical mind forced itself together enough to answer, “No signs of external wounds.” You responded, looking up at where Kix had previously been standing, “What killed her must have been internal.” 

“Yes…” He responded, giving you no more information, “She lost the will to live.” 

Broken heart, that's the explanation. Medical cause. 

You lowered your hand onto her belly. Carefully, you felt for…something. Proof. Clarity.

Just as Kix suspected…

“Stress Cardiomyopathy, Broken Heart Syndrome.” You concluded, looking at the older man next to you, “After she had given birth. The stress was too much.”

Rex gave you a proud smile, “Good j̵o̷b̸,̴ ̶k̶a̷r’ta.”

Bail didn’t respond, not immediately. He simply kept his eyes on Padme, sadness and grief obvious in his form.

There was a reason he, and possibly others, were hiding her children. Safety. They needed to keep the babies safe.

“As a doctor,” You said, voice barely above a whisper, “It is my duty to keep my patients secrets. Even after they’ve died,” Your eyes were on him, taking in his stance and posture, “I took an oath, one I refuse to break.” 

This conversation will never be repeated.

He looked at you now, relief in his gaze. His smile, small and full of so much pain, told you he appreciated your secrecy, “My wife and I will raise the girl, Leia.” 

Leia…What a beautiful name….

“Luke is with another family. Safe and loved.” 

Luke and Leia…

Two lives that were proof of Padme and Anakins love…

“I understand,” You nodded, pulling your hand away, “Are they healthy?”

He nodded, “Yes…no medical issues.”

“Good…now as far as I am aware, the twins died with her.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Bail responded before checking the time, “we need to go. Join Senator Mothma and Chuchi in the crowd.”

Padme should be alive. With her babies. With Anakin…

You stood, Rex keeping an arm at your lower back. He and Bail guided you out of the room, to find Mon and Riyo. The sky was dark with clouds and after finding them, rain began to drizzle down. It soaked into your black cloak, getting your brace wet. 

Your arm stung from the water, but you couldn’t care.

The young woman gave you a candle to hold, “She’s at peace now,” the red-headed senator tried to comfort. Senator Chuchi was next to her, giving you a look of sympathy. 

You didn’t respond. Instead, you simply kept the candle in your hands and watched.

Rex had a hand on your shoulder. He was untouched by the rain, and no one else acknowledged his existence. 

He’s gone. You had to remind yourself, He’s gone.

Your eyes shifted upward as Padme, followed by her parents, sister, the Naboo queen and the royal guard. Her mother held her head high, while her father looked broken beyond repair. The queen kept her gaze down, and you noticed her makeup was smudged with tears.

Naboo mourned their beloved senator and former queen. 

“Udes pirusti, ner burc'ya…” You whispered, “Ni partaylir gar, bid gar cuyir darasuum, Padme Amidala.” The words, Mando’a, you’ve spoken countless times to those you’ve held as they died. You’ve murmured them to yourself thousands of times after battles, repeating the names of lost Clone Troopers. 

Now, you speak them for Padme.

“Go̴o̷d̴ ̸p̵r̴o̷n̸u̵nciation.” She replaced Rex next to you. Her dress, her hair and all its flowers, were dry and perfect, “Can ̵y̸o̷u̴ ̴t̸e̵a̷c̶h̶ ̷me?”

“Yes, Padme.” You whispered, too low for anyone to hear.

Bail shifted next to you, and at first you thought he did infact hear you, thinking you insane. Instead you caught him looking past the funeral procession. Like trying to find someone in the crowd. For a split second, you thought you saw a familiar shade of orange.

Ahsoka…?

No.

No, she was dead. With Anakin, Padme, Jesse and…Rex…

Another hallucination.

You were getting worse.