Chapter Text
The nightmares had begun when he was very little.
He still remembered that first night, barely three years old, his entire body coated in sweat and mind reeling back. He hadn't quite realized where he was, even though he'd never been anywhere but his pod or the facility in his life...images of dead brothers flashed through his mind, and he'd been sobbing when one of the older clones pulled him out and cradled him, hushing his nightmares. Stroking down his spine gently and hushing him with just the barest whisper of his designation, and soft Mando'a to make him calm down. It had helped, enough the boy who would one day be known as Cody had curled back into his pod.
"Don't ever let them catch you, vod," one of the elder clones murmured, brown eyes dark. 2224 was almost sure his designation was 1243, but he might be wrong...his elder brothers had little time to spend with the younger, and he had met very few of them.
"The docs don't like it when we dream," the one who had comforted him murmured, smiling as he ruffled the child's short black hair, cut to regs scrupulously. The boy only looked at them, not understanding.
"Don't worry kid...you'll be fine," another piped up, grinning a bit as he too ruffled 2224's short hair. None of his batchmates had awoken...he almost wondered how the elder brothers had noticed he was sleeping badly, but even that thought distracted him from the nightmare.
"Thank you," he murmured softly, and curled back into his pod, quiet as he tried to go back to sleep, and his brothers moved on, grinning.
He'd never seen those brothers again. Terminated not three days later, he found out. But he'd kept that warning to heart. No one could know about his nightmares...especially not the Kaminoans. So he had worked to ensure he reduced the possibility of them. Sleep became hard to get...especially after the first terminations in his batch, kids who weren't cut out to kill...kids 2224 understood all too well. Live-fire exercises that ended in deaths, kids who couldn't hack it...terminated, terminated. Kids who would have been good medics but were instead meant to be soldiers, didn't have the personality for it...terminated.
Sometime between eight and ten, he had discovered the solace of a gym. The Kaminoans didn't begrudge a clone working out after lights-out, especially not commanders. After all, they were expected to be just a bit different from their brothers. Had to be, to lead. And so he had taken to exhausting himself in the gym, at hours no one else was awake, working through battle plans and strategies for the Kaminoans' tests. Some nights, when it'd been a rough day, he practiced cleaning and disassembling (and reassembling) his blaster. He had memorized the regs better than almost anyone else, he was, for want of a better term, a Good Soldier. And he worked hard for it.
Promotions came. Never easily, but they came. He fought hard for them, even if he only wished to better serve. He swore his oaths, he was a good soldier...and under it all, his nightmares plagued him, a constant presence in his rare hours of rest. He got very good at working effectively on only a couple hours, of filling his time with productive labor...
And then, the War began.
CC-2224 jerked awake with a shout, bodily throwing himself away from the almost painful grip, and finding himself unable to move. Not a muscle below his neck would respond, and he felt his panic ratchet higher, lungs heaving rapidly, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
No no no, can't be real it's only a nightmare, it's only a nightmare, no no it isn't it's real, they're all dead, they-
"-dy! Cody, hush now...hush. It was only a dream...no one is dead."
The commander was still panting, eyes blown wide with terror...but the sight of his general, concern etched into his features, seemed to bring the clone some calm. Slowly, he began to ease, and as he did so he realized the vice grip on his body relaxed as well, that he could move again. His bleary eyes sought out his general's blue, until he finally collapsed into a shuddering heap on his own bed, aware of blossoming bruises.
"Cody...are you alright?"
He hadn't heard Obi-Wan that soft since they'd nearly lost Skywalker. He went to reply...and realized his throat was raw from screaming. He tried to swallow, and the pain made him wince. Ah...one of those, then...the really bad ones. After a moment, he cleared his aching throat and managed to partially sit up, still shaking...the Jedi moved to help support him when a shaky arm refused to take his weight, and Cody almost flinched away. Even through his lingering fear, he saw the look of hurt on Obi-Wan's face as he did so.
"I...what're you doin' 'ere, Sir?" he asked, dodging the question. He'd only lie if he answered anyway...and he didn't want to make this worse, as he unconsciously let his general support some of his weight.
"...at first, I felt you all the way from the landing bay...then you were screaming for me, so loud it reverberated in the Force..." his general replied, voice soft and slow as he kept the clone from falling. That was Obi-Wan all over, he thought dully. Just...wanting to help...he always wanted to help...
"Oh..." was all he mumbled, shuddering almost violently in chill as his sweat-soaked skin told him the thin blankets were as soaked as he was...it was kriffing cold...
"Cody...may I-"
"No...please don't...I-I...no..."
There was a quiet nod, and the clone shook his head before trying to stand...and feeling Obi-Wan catch him around the waist as his shaking legs tried to collapse under him.
"Easy Commander...if you couldn't sit, what made you think you could walk?"
"Always a chance, Sir..."
Obi-Wan laughed, despite how uneven Cody's voice was, and Cody let himself get laid back in his bed, gentle hands pulling back the blankets and then pulling them back over the shaking clone. One hand seemed to almost absently run through his sweat-soaked hair, and he shivered...which made the contact stop.
"Cody...can I ask why you were calling for me?"
The clone's throat was still raw...but now it locked on him entirely for a minute, as he looked up into those brilliant blue eyes. He would trust his life and those of his brothers to this man...so why was it so hard to admit the truth to him?
"Because if you're there, Sir...I know it can't be that bad...that it's just dream..."
"Do I never exist in your dreams, Commander?" asked the jedi, even as he lightly touched Cody's face. He felt the 'mind trick' sending him back to sleep, making each limb heavy hard to move. He almost wanted to say it was frivolous use of the Force, calming a clone...expendable as they were, this was a waste of the general's time...
His mind was starting to whir into rest, thoughts skipping and growing sluggish, his filters lowering further than they were except when he was on medication.
"Only the good ones..." he finally murmured, and he felt a gentle hand stroke his hair again as he drifted back off.
Obi-Wan didn't leave the rest of the sleep-cycle, simply stroking his hand through the commander's hair. He had known for some time about the clone's nightmares, but Cody never seemed the worse for them. And Obi-Wan guessed his stalwart commander had good reason for them. Even so, coming in to see his usually stoic, at best wry, commander nearly throwing himself off his cot, thrashing so hard he would nearly have called it convulsive...that had hurt. What had been frightening had been the thick layer of terror and guilt that had touched the commander's Force signature, so strong he'd had to shut it out for awhile. And all the while the clone had been screaming, and Obi-Wan had had to Force-bind him to keep him from injuring himself...he'd be sporting bruises tomorrow, but for now...
The commander looked far more peaceful, now. He wondered how often Cody had is nightmares, how often they sailed under his notice...how often Cody was like this, and no one knew. And he found it was oddly gratifying to know he was not the source of any of the already-worn commander's night-terrors. Did Cody's men know? Did they simply ignore them, or was Cody better at hiding them than Kenobi was giving him credit for? Either way...his fingers curled slightly in the clone's regulation-short black hair, before he slowly disentangled himself from the commander's clinging, sleeping form. He wanted to know. He didn't intend to tell Cody just how loudly his mind had been screaming as well...and how much had been shouting his very own name, increasingly frantically.
It was forbidden to grow attached, he reminded himself absently...even as he tucked the clone in more snugly and crept outside of the commander's room. But he had to admit...that grew harder the more he learned about his wry, ever-professional commander.