Archive of Our Own ^beta

General Kenobi is injured again.

Cody is, as always, absolutely perplexed. It seems like the General can't get out of even the smallest skirmishes without getting injured, and there's no reason why. Cody's kept an eye on his General, and he would swear up and down, again, that the General hadn't taken any damage at all.

And yet, here he is. Injured. Something is hurting the General's leg, judging by how he's shifting his weight off it. Subtle and invisible to all but those most familiar with the General, but Cody's far past the point of familiarity.

Cody sighs and steps into the General's tent. "Sir?"

General Kenobi doesn't look up from the datapad he's reading, but says, "Yes, Commander?"

"I couldn't help but notice you were hurt, sir," Cody says. "Have you been to medical?"

The General glances back at Cody and smiles. "Of course. I was just there, actually. I wanted to see how well the troopers were doing after our last battle--which is quite well, in case you were curious. Everyone should be in full health by the end of the week."

Cody nods in assent. The health of his troops is, as always, of utmost importance. He appreciates how stringent General Kenobi is in getting injured clones to report in to medical, and following up on their health--though his ability to discern visible and invisible injuries at a single glance is a bit weird.

Cody just wishes the General would extend that enthusiasm for getting medical attention to himself.

"I find it difficult to believe that medical let you leave without doing something about that leg, sir." Cody says.

"My leg?" General Kenobi asks, his face the image of utter innocence.

Cody suppresses the urge to sigh heavily. He's been through this song and dance so many times that he's lost count entirely. "You are clearly hurt, sir. I don't think you should be walking on that leg right now."

"I don't see why not," General Kenobi says, blithe as ever as he scrolls through his datapad and takes notes on what are probably other battles on the war front. "My legs are both completely fine."

This time, Cody does sigh. When the General gets stubborn, there's no way to get him to back down except by force, and Cody does not want to strongarm his Jedi right at this moment. He's got enough to deal with without having to keep the General safe from his own reckless stupidity.

"Sir, if you really refuse to see medical about your leg, can't you...heal it?"

General Kenobi stops dead and stares at Cody. "I beg your pardon?"

"Heal it, sir. With the Force. You've used it in the past to heal some of the men when we were too far from medical support," Cody says. "Lacerations, bone fractures, blaster shots. I know you don't like to talk about it, but I'm not blind. I don't want to encourage your chronic avoidance of professional medical care, but if you can heal injuries, can't you at least use that to take care of yourself?"

The General looks at him for a long moment, then puts the datapad down and grimaces. "It doesn't work like that, Cody."

"Why not, sir?"

General Kenobi looks at him and for a single moment his eyes look so sad.

"Because what I do isn't healing."

The thing about Force Healing, real Force Healing, is that it's nearly extinct for two main reasons.

The first reason is it's dangerous. The purest form of Force Healing, the sort of healing that lets Jedi channel the Force in its undiluted, rawest, life-giving form and use it to pull someone from certain destruction, requires opening one's self so completely to the Force that there's a very serious risk of becoming one with the Force. More diluted versions of Force Healing, like the ones actually practiced by the temple Healers, are safer, but still require an inherent vulnerability that makes every Healing carry the risk of being the last.

There's a reason why Force Healing is always the last resort.

The second reason, well. It's hard. Force Healing needs a temperament that's difficult to master--an openness that runs directly against the shielding that Jedi learn as soon as they can understand what the Force is, a level of trust that runs too close to attachment, and a connection to the Force that most Masters take an entire lifetime to cultivate. It is also just...very hard.

Obi-Wan is a lot of things--competent, diligent, and perhaps even what some may consider talented--but he's no prodigy or miracle worker and certainly not any sort of Chosen One, and hard work has its limits. So, no. He did not learn Force Healing.

It wasn't that Obi-Wan wanted to learn Force Healing, anyways--he just had to do something in the days after his Master died, something more than wondering what if, what if--

If he'd been stronger, faster, more talented, maybe he could have defeated that Sith soon enough to save Qui-Gon, but probably not. The Sith had been so much stronger that a little better just wasn't enough. But the blow that took down Qui-Gon wasn't instantly fatal--there had been time for the fight, and words, afterwards. Not a lot of time, but enough that if Obi-Wan had known what to do, maybe he could have kept Qui-Gon alive long enough to get medical help. Maybe Qui-Gon would still be alive now.

There's no use wondering what if. Qui-Gon died, and there's no way to change that, but Obi-Wan could make sure it never happened again. He wouldn't let Anakin die, he wouldn't let anyone die. Not if he could help it.

There's a lot of ways to save a life that aren't Force Healing. Some of them are much worse than others.

Master Obi-Wan had the power to fix people.

When Obi-Wan had first used it, three years into Anakin's padawanship, it had been in the middle of a mission gone belly-up, and Anakin had gotten his left arm broken in the middle of a firefight.

(How blasters got involved in what was supposed to be a basic diplomatic mission, he didn't know.)

He was crying, but trying not to cry, because Jedi weren't supposed to cry even if their arm hurts a lot and they don't think it's ever going to be fixed because it hurts so much, and Obi-Wan pulled him into a safe spot. He told Anakin that it would be all right, and that everything would be okay, but Anakin was in too much pain to really know if Obi-Wan said anything else.

But then Obi-Wan gently held Anakin's broken arm (and even that much made it hurt even more, just touching it made it feel like he was on fire) and...

It didn't feel like anything Anakin had ever felt before. Not like what they did in the Halls of Healing, or like when bacta gets put on, or any of the other stuff they use to fix people when they get hurt. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, and...the pain went away, as if washed out by a cool stream of water. The pain went away, and he could feel the bones in his arm connect again, the muscle knit back together, and in only a few minutes, his arm was completely fixed, as if nothing had happened at all.

Even the temple Healers couldn't fix broken bones that fast.

They finished the mission without trouble (they did finally reach a diplomatic agreement between the warring factions, but a building got destroyed in the process), and went home feeling good about themselves.

The day after, when they got back to the Temple, Obi-Wan started wearing a brace on his left arm.

If Obi-Wan were to blame anyone besides himself (which he wouldn't), he would blame Bant. She was the one who gave him the idea.

Not on purpose, or even in any direct way. She just had the start of the idea.

"This is banthashit!"

Bant looked over her homework to give Obi-Wan a chiding look. "Obi. Language."

Obi-Wan threw his datapad--and then himself--onto his bed. He'd been working on this homework for almost two hours with no progress. He wanted to scream. "Well, if you're so smart, then why don't you explain it?"

Bant patted his back reassuringly, then picked up Obi-Wan's abused homework. It was something about principles of the Force or some other crap like that, not that Obi-Wan would know at this point because he'd been working on it for so long that he'd started to go cross-eyed.

"Well," Bant said tolerantly, "what part are you confused about?"

"All of it," Obi-Wan said into his pillow. "Some of it. I don't know."

Bant rolled her eyes and jabbed Obi-Wan in the sensitive part of his side, startling a yelp out of him. "Obi," she said. "You have to give me something to work with here."

Obi-Wan groaned unhelpfully.

With a sigh, Bant swiped through the pages. "Hm. Looks like...Master Rol'nan's Comprehensive Theory of Unity? Is this what you're confused on?"

Obi-Wan made a tortured sound. "He thinks everyone is the same as everyone else! That doesn't even make sense! It's obviously stupid and wrong, but when I tell Master Kirnn that she just tells me to meditate on it!" He stuck his lip out in a pout. "Meditation isn't going to magically fix things that are plain wrong."

"'Through the Force, we are become vessels to one soul, one body in unity. Through the Force, all is one,'" Bant read. "Yeah, that is kind of weird."

"It's not weird, it's wrong! I'm me and you're you and Master Kirnn is Master Kirnn! This is basic stuff!" Obi-Wan argued.

Bant hummed thoughtfully. "I mean. I don't think that's what Master Rol'nan is trying to say. I think it's more like...we all share one really big soul. Because the Force moves through all of us, right?"

"I guess?"

"So maybe it's kind of like a lake. One spot is your soul and one spot is my soul. Those spots are always our souls, but the water that comes from my soul is the same as the water that comes from your soul, because it's all the Force."

"So we're all made of the Force? Whatever, we already knew that," Obi-Wan muttered.

"I think it means more that because we're connected through the Force, things can flow between us," Bant replied. "Emotions, thoughts, and feelings can go from me to you or from you to me."

"Yeah? But what about the one body stuff? If I lost an arm, I can't make your arm 'flow' to me," Obi-Wan said.

"Hm. I guess it is kind of weird if you put it that way. Isn't there some kind of energy theory? Like, all matter is energy, so something something all physical things shaped with the mind? Maybe if you turn everything into energy you can even make physical things flow from one person to another," Bant asked.

Obi-Wan grunted. "That's pretty silly." He took his datapad back from Bant. "But I guess I have something to write now. Thanks, Bant."

"You'll do great, Obi. Just don't call Master Rol'nan a huge idiot in your paper and you'll be fine," Bant said.

"That was one time!"

"The concept is quite simple," General Kenobi says, calmly sipping his tea. "Through the Force, all things are connected. One body and one soul, from a certain, if controversial, point of view. Healing damage is a difficult and specialized skill, but moving it is fairly straightforward. I simply take pain and allow it to flow into me. An arm for an arm. A leg for a leg."

Cody blinks, and the image of Waxer hitting the ground with a snap and crumpling to the ground flashes before his eyes. "You...Waxer broke his leg today," Cody says.

"I think if you were to check with medical, you'd find he only had a very serious sprain," the General replies. He idly flicks through his datapad for a few moments, then says, "But yes. Waxer broke his leg. A clean fracture, but even a clean fracture would have stopped him from getting off of the battlefield in time. I was the only one who could help, and so I did."

Cody's eyes flick down to General Kenobi's hurt leg. It doesn't look hurt. It certainly doesn't look broken. He says as much.

The General's answering smile is sardonic. "Very astute of you. You probably would have noticed if I was breaking limbs and experiencing lethal blaster wounds all the time. For one thing, I would probably be less alive."

Cody grimaces. "That's not funny, sir."

"It wasn't a joke," the General replies.

No. Of course it wasn't--the General wouldn't joke about something like that, not right now or like this. He respects Cody enough for that.

"Then if I could be so bold as to ask," Cody says, "if you're...taking other people's lethal wounds, why aren't you dead?"

"Very good question," the General says, smiling. "Tell me, Cody, are you familiar with the concept of falling?"

"Wh--falling? Like with the Force and the Dark Side?"

The General shakes his head. "No, I mean falling. Physically. From a great height, under the influence of gravity, towards an impact with the ground."

Cody's brows draw together. He loves his General, but he doesn't know why he insists on talking around in circles like this. "Of course, sir. I've been on an air carrier before."

"Then you're familiar with the concept of falling without dying," General Kenobi says. "It's not the fall that kills you; it's the sudden stop at the end. That's simple mathematics--too much energy in too little time creates huge forces. But if you can spread the same energy over time, then what was once lethal becomes very survivable." He sips his tea once more. "What I do is a similar concept."

All at once, Cody remembers all of the wounds he's seen the General fix with his Force magic and blanches. "So you...what, you magic away a broken leg and put yourself into pain for weeks?" he asks.

"Oh, Cody," General Kenobi says softly, in a tone of voice that makes Cody cold with dread. "Since this war started, I have never not been in pain."

The second day after Skyguy became Ahsoka's master, he'd pulled her aside and said, "Look. If you're really, really hurt, and you can't get to medical in time, get Obi-Wan. He'll be able to fix you. He doesn't do it much because he needs his energy on the battlefield and he really believes that healing is best done with medicine and time in the Halls of Healing, but Obi-Wan is the best kriffing healer the Jedi have ever seen. If you're about to die, he will save you."

Ahsoka was admittedly a bit skeptical about this, considering she probably would have heard if Master Obi-Wan was so good at healing, so she put it in the back of her mind and mostly forgot about it, at least until that one time when she got shot in the chest in the middle of a skirmish.

She was, in fact, too far away from medical help, and the last time she'd seen Master Obi-Wan or Skyguy, they were on the complete other side of the battlefield, so even though it seemed completely hopeless, she'd shouted out for Master Obi-Wan like Skyguy had told her to.

Well, it was a good thing Master Obi-Wan apparently specialized in miracles, because less than thirty seconds later, he was by her side, scooping her off of the ground and getting her into cover. When they were safe from blaster fire, he'd put her down and put his hand over the blaster shot, and...

The pain disappeared. The wound closed up right before her eyes, and all the burning, all the pain, all the everything went away. Just like that.

Ahsoka was not the most obedient or calm of Padawans. She had spent plenty of time in the Halls of Healing for all the stupid stuff she'd gotten into, and she knew what Force Healing felt like.

Whatever Master Obi-Wan did was not Force Healing. It didn't feel like healing at all--it felt like he'd simply...unmade the injury. Like it'd never happened.

The thought of it was so unnatural that for a second, Ahsoka was absolutely and truly terrified of Master Obi-Wan.

Then he'd put a gentle hand on her shoulder and smiled and said, "You'll be okay now, Ahsoka. You have to be careful out there, all right?"

She had nodded, and he had jumped back into the fray, not looking tired in the least.

After that, Ahsoka started keeping a closer eye on her Grandmaster. That's how she realized he was a bit weird. Not weird in a cute quirky way, but weird in some actually kind of alarming ways.

Like how Master Obi-Wan almost never noticed when he got injured. Or how he had the same freaky ability that the temple Healers did to look at someone and instantly know how many injuries they had. And how Master Obi-Wan never got painkillers, or if they were prescribed to him, he never took them.

Once, she'd watched him get shrapnel extracted from his arm without any local anesthesia. Watching the medic carefully remove bits of jagged metal from his skin was one of the most painful looking things she'd ever seen, but he looked completely serene the whole time--there was no sense of pain in the Force around him, no twitch of a wince or grimace in his expression at all. That wasn't the face of someone trying to stay strong for an audience in spite of excruciating pain. That was the face of someone who didn't even feel it.

She pulled Skyguy aside one day to ask about it.

"Does Master Obi-Wan not feel pain?" Ahsoka asked.

"What?" Skyguy said. "What are you talking about? Of course he feels pain."

"He never takes painkillers," Ahsoka said. "He got shrapnel in his arm and didn't even notice! He didn't get any anesthetic when they tried to take it out!"

"Really? Maybe it's some kind of Force thing. Release pain into the Force through meditation or something like that, though if he knows something like that, it would have been nice if he'd taught me how to do it," Skyguy replied. "But he definitely can feel pain. I remember him stubbing his toe extra hard one time back when I was a Padawan and I learned a lot of really interesting words that day."

The concept of Master Obi-Wan, Perfect Jedi, Elegance and Grace, stubbing his toe is one that makes Ahsoka feel a little cross-eyed. It really doesn't compute.

She let the matter go. Master Obi-Wan, despite his weirdness, did seem to take care of himself (mostly). So if he didn't want to use painkillers or whatever, as long as it wan't hurting him, it was fine.

The 212th was lucky. Everyone knew this.

General Kenobi was extraordinarily unlucky. Everyone knew this, as well.

It was quite simple: Fewer soldiers from the 212th ever died on their missions, and the ones who got injured never seemed to have anything but speedy, uncomplicated recovery. Shinies seemed to think the 212th was a cushy battalion because of it, but were quickly disabused of the misconception--the 212th got some of the most dangerous, critical front-line missions in the entire GAR, and the fact that so many consistently came back alive and mostly unharmed was nothing short of a miracle.

General Kenobi, on the other hand, always looked like fresh hell.

It hadn't been bad, at the start of the war. Back then, General Kenobi had been everything the clones could have wished for--strategic, brutally efficient in a fight, and respectful of their personhood. He had his quirks, as all Jedi did--it probably wasn't necessary to flirt with the enemy as much as he did, nor to lose his lightsaber so frequently--but he cared about his men, and it showed.

That didn't change as the war raged on, but General Kenobi began to look worse and worse. Sick, almost. When there weren't battles, and especially immediately after battle, the General took to staying by himself, or with General Skywalker, or a couple of select clones that he was close with. A lot of clones didn't ever see the General unless he was giving briefings before a battle, or doing his regular vigil over the injured in the medical tent.

Whenever he was holding vigil in the medical tent, he almost ubiquitously looked like the worst one there.

He never lost his deadly effectiveness in the battlefield, but it concerned the Jedi Council enough that the 212th was frequently paired with another battalion--usually the 501st--to keep General Kenobi from anything but the most critical missions, though as the war continued, only more and more missions seemed to become "most critical".

Medical didn't seem to know what was going on with him, though considering the nature of the problem, perhaps that shouldn't have been a surprise. Cody did know. And he knew with certainty that if this continued, General Kenobi would die.

"Sir, you have to stop."

General Kenobi glances up from his paperwork. There are deep circles under his eyes, and his face looks almost deathly pale. "Hello, Commander Cody. Did you need something?"

"You have to stop, sir," Cody says. "You can't keep taking all the injuries of the 212th. It's going to kill you."

General Kenobi pauses for a moment, then sighs. "I know."

This is not a satisfactory answer.

"Then why are you still doing it, sir?" Cody presses.

"Because I can't actually turn it off," the General replies. "I'm like a heat sink, Commander. Pain from battles bleeds off to me passively, and there's no way to shut it out, short of leaving the war front entirely, and none of us can afford that. I'm already doing everything I can to stay away from the troops when I can avoid it." He sighs again. "I have been trying. I don't actually have a death wish."

"Of course not, sir," Cody says, not sounding entirely convinced, even to himself. "But it's getting worse."

"I'm not sure it is. I think it may have always been this way," the General continues. "It's just that before, I hadn't been in contact with so many people in pain at the same time, so frequently. If it had just been a few people hurt at a time, I wouldn't have noticed, but this is war. There's nothing but pain. It accumulates."

"You're at your limit, sir."

"Technically, it isn't my limit until I'm dead," the General replies.

Cody grimaces. "Please don't say that."

The General waves him off. "You needn't worry about me, Cody. I've taken the pain so far and I'm able to release much of it into the Force over time. I look worse than I feel."

General Kenobi, in Cody's informed opinion, looks like he's actively dying.

"Pardon my pessimism, sir, but that isn't saying much."

"Skywalker, that's one of the most unhelpful after-mission reports I've ever heard," Mace Windu said.

Anakin crossed his arms. "Look, you wanted a report, and Obi-Wan's too busy in medical to give it, so I gave you the report. Are you happy?"

The blue hologram of Mace Windu looked like he wanted to punch something. That made two of them. "I would be happier if you could give me a more thorough report of events," Mace said.

"I gave you the report!" Anakin said. "Why are you guys putting Obi-Wan on so many missions anyways? Have you even seen him in the last few months? He's practically wasting away! Can't you guys do something to make him better? Give him a break for a month? Do some kind of group meditation or whatever?"

"Neither of those things would help. Obi-Wan can't do group meditation, and what he's dealing with won't be solved until the war is over," Mace replied.

"Woah, what? Back up a second. What do you mean Obi-Wan can't do group meditation? I've done group meditation with him!"

"That was before the war. He can't do group meditation anymore," Mace said. "I'm honestly astonished that you're not aware of this."

"Yeah! I mean, no! I mean--" Anakin huffed. "Why? Why can't Obi-Wan do group meditation?"

"That is something I'm not at liberty to talk about. If you're so curious, ask your Master yourself," Mace said.

Anakin scowled. "He's not my Master anymore."

"No, I suppose not. And now, if you're not going to give me a more useful report, I have to comm a few other people," Mace said. "May the Force be with you."

Then the comm went dead.

Anakin stayed there a bit, fuming at Oh So High And Mighty Master Windu, who was absolutely, completely wrong. Obi-Wan couldn't do group meditation his ass. Obi-Wan meditated literally every day. He meditated as easily as breathing. He was the fripping galactic champion in meditating.

He stormed off to find Obi-Wan and prove to Mace how wrong he was.

Thirty minutes later, Anakin was storming around much less enthusiastically because he couldn't kriffing find Obi-Wan. He wasn't in medical anymore, he wasn't in his quarters. He wasn't in the sparring rooms. He wasn't on the bridge.

He asked some of the clones if they'd seen him, but no dice. Obi-Wan had disappeared somehow.

Well, it was impossible for Obi-Wan to really ever hide from Anakin. They had a connection through the Force, even if it had gotten weaker over the course of the war. Closing his eyes, Anakin extended himself into the Force, reaching out for Obi-Wan and...

Pain crashed through Anakin's body like a tsunami, forcibly ripping him out of his light meditative state and sending him reeling. He staggered, falling against a wall, breathing hard.

What the kriff was that? He'd only touched Obi-Wan's presence for a moment, and--

Oh Force. What if Obi-Wan was dying?

Anakin sprinted off, chasing the feeling he'd had in the Force. The Force led him down the corridors and into the maintenance areas, far from where most personnel ever went. There, at the back, was Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, sitting with his back against a storage crate, the Force around him filled with utter agony. It felt like being set on fire.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin shouted. "Obi-Wan, are you okay?"

In an instant, the burning sensation in the Force disappeared, and Obi-Wan's eyes flickered open. Obi-Wan...didn't look like he was in pain, just kind of annoyed, before that too was smoothed out into his usual serene mask.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "What are you doing down here?"

"What am I doing down here? What are you doing down here?" Anakin shot back.

"I was meditating," Obi-Wan replied. "As I frequently do."

"Down in the maintenance corridors?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, his voice as tolerantly patient as it always was when he thought Anakin was saying something phenomenally stupid. "I prefer to do my meditations as far away from other people as possible."

"In the maintenance corridors?"

Obi-Wan huffed in exasperation. "Yes, Anakin. In the maintenance corridors. I have been doing this for almost a year now. You have seen me down here. I thought you knew."

Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but his memory flashed back to multiple times he'd found Obi-Wan down in the maintenance levels. Come to think of it, he didn't know why he'd found Obi-Wan down here so frequently. "I...I thought you were checking on the ship's mechanics or something."

"I was meditating," Obi-Wan said. "Did you need something from me?"

"No, I...I thought you were dying, Obi-Wan! I tried to reach out to you in the Force, and it felt like--it felt like you were being ripped apart!"

Obi-Wan's eyebrows went up. "I think you're being a little overdramatic."

"No, I'm not!" Anakin shot back. "You were in pain, Obi-Wan! A lot of kriffing pain!"

Obi-Wan frowned and slowly got up to his feet. "I'm sorry you had to feel that, Anakin. It certainly wasn't my intention to hurt you."

He's not denying it.

Mace said Obi-Wan can't do group meditation.

Oh kriff.

Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan by the shoulder and reached out in the Force again, but this time, all he felt were cold, hard shields. Practically impenetrable, the way Obi-Wan's shields had always been since the war started. He pressed gently, and muted burning pain erupted against his senses. If it was this bad even under Obi-Wan's shielding he didn't even want to imagine how bad it would be without the shields.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin choked. "You...do you feel like this all the time?"

"Feel like what, exactly?" Obi-Wan replied, looking genuinely confused.

"The pain! It feels like being on fire! It feels like actual Sithing torture!"

"War takes a toll on all of us, Anakin. It's really not as bad as you're making it out to be," Obi-Wan said. "At a certain point, it's all just noise."

"At a certain--" Anakin made a strangled sound. "Obi-Wan, how long has this been going on? You haven't--not...Not since the start of the war?"

"I'm managing it perfectly fine," Obi-Wan said. "I release my pain into the Force, and it's perfectly bearable."

"This isn't perfect anything!" Anakin burst out. "This is the farthest possible thing from perfect! Pain can kill you, you know!" He looked more closely at Obi-Wan's drawn face, the bags beneath his eyes, the exhaustion emanating from him despite his serenity. "I think it is killing you."

"I'm well aware. Which is why I would very much like to end this war as soon as possible," Obi-Wan replied. "Come along, Anakin. As lovely as this talk has been, my Commander needs me to look over the orders for our next deployment."

With that, Obi-Wan shook Anakin's hand off his shoulder and headed back up towards the main levels.

The General looks even worse today, though that's not really saying much. These days, he looks worse every single day.

Cody is genuinely worried that one day he'll visit General Kenobi's quarters and find him dead. It is the single most horrifying thing Cody can imagine happening in the course of this awful war.

He knocks on the General's door and it swishes open to let him in. The General is, unsurprisingly, working.

"General," he says.

"You know, we've worked together for over two years and saved each other's lives quite a number of times. You can call me Obi-Wan," the General says for what must be at least the hundredth time.

There is no way for Cody to describe how much he cannot call his General by his given name. That's...way too familiar. He's not ready for that. "Of course, General."

General Kenobi sighs, but drops the matter. It's not the end of it--it's never going to be, Cody suspects. "Did you need anything, Commander?"

"Yes, but it's more of a personal matter," Cody says.

The General glances up. "Oh? What is it?"

"It's..." Cody takes a deep breath. "It's about you, sir."

The General's brows draw together, but he gestures for Cody to sit and says, "I see. Well, how can I help you?"

"Um," Cody says as he takes a seat, feeling very on the spot all of a sudden. "I noticed that you're...not improving, sir."

"Unfortunately not," the General says.

"Well, you said that the way your thing works is that you make pain flow to you, right?" Cody says.

"That's the general idea of it, yes. Where are you going with this?"

"Well, that's...I mean to say--" Cody laces his hands together nervously. "Is it possible for you to make it flow the other way?"

All at once, the General's expression goes completely wooden. "Use my pain to hurt others, you mean."

"Um. Strictly speaking, yes, I suppose that's what that would be. Sir," Cody says.

"That strays very close to the Dark Side," General Kenobi says.

"Right," Cody replies. "But I'm not talking about using it against your enemies or whatever, I'm...I'm offering. I want to take some of the pain off of you, if that'll help you make it through this war."

"Cody, what I'm experiencing isn't physical pain. It's energy. It's psychic, by some descriptions. It's not pain that can be eased by medication or any other means than letting it run its course. My pain would probably, without hyperbole, kill you."

And if that isn't a worrying admission, that the General's pain is literally enough to kill someone.

"Why do you have to endure so much pain, sir?" Cody asks. "If it's that much?"

The General smiles to himself, like he's thought of some inside joke. "Haven't I ever told you? I was meant for infinite suffering."

Cody chokes. "General--"

"In any case, Commander, I appreciate the sentiment, but I cannot accept. It's not your duty to carry my burdens. I dare say you already have enough of your own."

Cody exhales. He should have seen this coming. General Kenobi was just too stubborn about things like this, but Cody has to do something. If he doesn't, his General will absolutely, definitively die.

"I'm not asking as a soldier," Cody says slowly. "I'm asking as a friend. This pain is killing you, sir, and if enduring some of that pain for you will help, then I'll gladly do it."

"And I appreciate you saying so, Commander, but I can still function perfectly well despite my condition."

"I, Gen--" Cody grits his teeth. "Kenobi. I'm not saying this because of the war or how well you function. I'm saying this because I, Cody, am worried about you, Kenobi, and I don't like the fact that your pain is, well, hurting you. Maybe you can endure it, but maybe you shouldn't have to, if you don't have to. And you don't, because I'm here, offering to take some of it from you."

General Kenobi stares at him with an expression caught between something like surprise and incredulity.

Cody reaches out and grasps General Kenobi's hands in his own. "Please. I care about you, Kenobi. I don't want you to die."

The General glances down at their linked hands, then rotates his own hands so he can firmly grip Cody's in return. "I've never done it before, you know. Allowing pain to flow out of me instead of into me. I don't know if it's possible."

"Will you try?" Cody asks.

The General gazes directly into his eyes for a long moment, and Cody thinks he sees...something pass behind them, something inconceivably powerful regarding him with its full, laser-focused attention. Tension builds in the air around the two of them, and Cody feels something like phantom hands tracing over his skin like a touch of electricity that sinks in, straight to his soul.

Oh. This must be the Force, Cody thinks hysterically.

General Kenobi breaks eye contact, and just like that, the tension breaks. He nods, and says, "Yes. If you're sure you're okay with it, Cody."

"I am."

The General nods, then closes his eyes and squeezes Cody's hands firmly. His hands are warm, and rough with calluses from lightsaber use and who knows what else. Kenobi breathes deeply, his muscles loosening as he descends into his Jedi thing.

Then, at the edge of Cody's awareness, he feels...something. Like a prickling sensation at the edge of his mind, a feeling that seems to disappear if he tries to chase it.

"I'm going to go as slowly as I can," Kenobi intones, his voice low and rough, as if speaking from within a dream. "If it's too much, you have to tell me. Promise me, Cody."

"I promise," Cody says.

"Okay," Kenobi says, so low that Cody's not sure if he hears the words with his ears or his mind. "Then I'll begin."

Cody forces himself to relax. He'll do this. It'll hurt, but it'll help his General, and that's all that matters.

The prickling sensation in his mind intensifies, chasing out of his head and into his body all under his skin. It ebbs and flows in waves, each crest reaching higher than the last until he feels it sink unpleasantly bone-deep.

And then, like a star bursting in his mind, pain crashes in. It's like needles in every square centimeter of his skin, it's like fire bursting in his lungs, it's like the worst torture resistance training he's ever had on Kamino.

Involuntarily, he cries out against it, jerking against the back of his seat, clutching Kenobi's hands in a death grip. He spasms under it, thrashing despite his efforts to stay still, because it hurts, holy shit does it hurt and--

The burning stops. The pain doesn't stop, not at all, but it recedes slowly to a dull ache in his bones, like how it feels when he's recovering from sprains and torn muscles. A bearable, if deeply uncomfortable level.

After an interminable two minutes, the prickling feeling retreats from Cody's mind, and General Kenobi opens his eyes. He looks a bit wild, his pupils dilated and his breathing ragged. He tugs his hands out of Cody's grasp and flexes his fingers a few times.

"I'm sorry, Cody. I went a bit too far," the General says softly. "How are you--how do you feel?"

"Sore," Cody says, carefully rotating his joints and noting how they light up with pain when he does. "Like I went a few too many rounds on the sparring mat with Rex."

"Only a few?"

"Okay, a lot." Cody grimaces. "That...when you pushed a bit too much, it felt...bad." Understatement of the year, really.

The General looks down. "I'm sorry. I should have been more careful."

"Is that what it feels like to take on the pain of the entire 212th? Are you feeling that all the time?" Cody asks. "How do you even function?"

"With difficulty," General Kenobi replies. "And a lot of practice. It didn't start out this severe."

Cody rubs his aching arms slowly. "Did...did it help? Giving me some of your pain?"

There's a long moment where the General stares out into nothing at all, his gaze somewhere else, then blinks and smiles at Cody. "Yes, I dare say it did. Thank you, Cody."

"Good, then we can do this again," Cody says.

General Kenobi chokes.

Count Dooku paced slowly around the jail cell which held his valued Grandpadawan. Young Kenobi had already undergone two weeks of interrogation and torture without any avail--integrity that would honor any lineage, Dooku could admit.

Kenobi looked up at Dooku, and though the boy's gaze was somewhat hazy and unfocused from blood loss, Dooku could tell he had Kenobi's full attention. "Dear Grandmaster," he said. "How lovely of you to pay me another visit. I'd offer you a seat, but you can see my current accommodations are a bit lacking."

"Your accommodations would be quite a bit more pleasant if you would tell us the information we'd like to know," Dooku replied. "You must realize you cannot hold out indefinitely."

"On the contrary," Kenobi said, "I was sent here specifically because you couldn't get the information out of me."

"Don't be so arrogant, dear Grandpadawan," Dooku chided gently. "Even the strongest Jedi always break. You've held up quite admirably up until now, but the torture has weakened your defenses considerably. Very soon it will be very easy for me to simply look in...and take it."

Kenobi leveled a flat stare at him. "For your sake, dear Grandmaster, I would recommend you don't do that."

Dooku sneered. "What a flimsy attempt to sway me. Didn't you learn how to negotiate better than that? Give me a reason to not rip the information out of you. What can you offer me, Kenobi?"

"I'm not attempting to sway you, as you so eloquently put it, Dooku. I'm warning you that you will not get the information you wish for, and you will come out worse for the experience," Kenobi said, staring Dooku directly in the eyes. There was no bravado in his voice and no fear in his eyes--simply indifference.

Rage bubbled up in Dooku. How impudent of Kenobi to act so calm and serene under such dire circumstances. How dare he be lucid after such trials when a lesser man would have broken long ago.

"The names," Dooku hissed. "Tell me the names, Kenobi."

Slowly, Kenobi stood--which should have been impossible--and walked to the bars separating them. He smiled a bloody, mirthless smile and said, "If you want the names so badly, then come into my mind and find them. But dear Grandmaster, don't say I didn't warn you."

It was the most obvious bluff in the world, and yet the stupidest one Dooku had ever seen. After two weeks of constant torture while cut off from the Force, there was no Jedi who could maintain their mental defenses, much less stop any Sith who wanted to extract any specific information.

Dooku reached through the bars and grabbed Kenobi by the temples. "Gladly," he said, and dived in.

He only barely touched the surface of Kenobi's mind when sheer, white-hot pain flowed back through him like a torrential storm, like waves upon waves of lava. It burned him worse than lightning, searing deep into his core like nothing he had ever felt.

He flinched back on impulse, but found he couldn't. Kenobi had locked them both inside his mind.

I told you not to enter, Kenobi's voice echoed through their joined minds. But now that you're here, you'll experience this with me, dear Grandmaster.

What is this!? Dooku screeched at him. What have you done to yourself!?

It is the war that has done this to me, Kenobi replied. Though since I haven't been able to release any of this into the Force for two entire weeks, it's a bit worse than normal. I suppose you might help with that.

Dooku thrashed against the shields in Kenobi's mind, trying to escape from the onslaught of agony that flowed directly from Kenobi into him, all to no avail.

I've never understood why you Sith enjoy directly accessing people's minds. That's a two-way street, Kenobi said, somehow still calm despite the horrific pain he must be feeling as well. Unwise, if you have many things to hide. I'm sorry to do this, dear Grandmaster, but I must end this war and this is the only way I know how.

There was a reaching sensation, and suddenly Dooku felt all his memories rushing to the surface against his will, all the things Kenobi had no right to see--

Then a pause, and Kenobi released him.

Dooku, forcefully thrust back into his own body, still burning with the pain that had radiated from Kenobi's mind into his own, stumbled back from the bars and collapsed gracelessly against the tile.

"Well, that was quite interesting," Kenobi said quietly as he unlocked his own cuffs with--

Dooku patted his robes. That whelp had pickpocketed him while trapping him in that torture! He struggled to stand, but his body wouldn't obey him, not to that extent.

Slowly, Kenobi unlocked and removed his collar and fetters, then used the Force to unlock his cell door. He frankly looked awful, but the fact that he could stand and use the Force at all after what he'd been through was downright miraculous. Just as slowly and deliberately, Kenobi dragged Dooku up and cuffed him, then stole Dooku's comm unit.

He made a comm.

"Windu."

"Mace," Kenobi said. "I have Dooku, and I know who the Sith Master is."

Dooku closed his eyes. This is not how he wanted this all to end.

The confrontation with Palpatine is very simple. Obi-Wan walks in and they speak for a while. It's friendly, mostly, until the truth of the matter comes out--that Palpatine is the Sith Master Darth Sidious, and that Obi-Wan knows.

Palpatine cackles and tries to send out his Order 66, but Obi-Wan is carrying a signal jammer that stops all wireless communications. The moment he realizes his ultimate plan has been derailed, Palpatine brandishes his lightsaber to cut Obi-Wan down.

Obi-Wan does not even reach for his. He simply breathes, and takes all of the pain--the pain he has accumulated from tens of thousands of men, hundreds of would-be deaths, over three years of non-stop war--and lets it flow out of him. It rushes out in an endless torrent, all at once, into the only other person who can take it.

Afterwards, medics will say Palpatine had a heart attack.

Obi-Wan is in the Halls of Healing, and for the first time in three years, he is not in excruciating pain.

There's a dull ache in his bones, one that he supposes would be quite awful for most people, but he's been in so much pain for so long that having only this much is an incredible relief--so much so that he feels absolutely giddy. He wonders idly if he's gone mad--three years of constant, unrelieved pain could do that.

The door slides open, and Cody walks in, wearing plainclothes. Since the war ended, a lot of the clones have tried to wear their armor less often--mostly as a way to try and reassure the public than out of personal comfort. In Obi-Wan's opinion, Cody cuts quite a sharp figure in an Alderaan cut blazer.

Obi-Wan smiles. "Cody. How is everything?"

"The trial? Palpatine was convicted on all counts," Cody says as he pulls out a seat beside Obi-Wan. "They're just figuring out what to do with him now. How are you, General?"

Obi-Wan sighs. "Cody, we've known each other for--"

"For over two years, and saved each others lives many times? Yeah, I know," Cody says. "Kenobi, then. How are you? You're the one who singlehandedly took down a Sith Master."

"Ah, but it wasn't really singlehanded at all, was it?" Obi-Wan says. "It was everyone in the 212th, and everyone else we've fought alongside. All of the fighting you have done over all this time, all of the battles we've been through. It...seemed reasonable to me that Palpatine should experience some of the pain he's wrought on the galaxy. I just...held it until I could deliver it to him."

"And now? How are you feeling?"

"Like the entire world's been lifted off my shoulders," Obi-Wan says honestly. "I've been so used to being in pain all the time that I've forgotten how it feels to be without. It's...it's nice."

Cody huffs. "Yes, I imagine so." He reaches out to hold Obi-Wan's hand, and it's quite a pleasant feeling.

Obi-Wan turns Cody's hand over and runs his own fingers over it to feel it more carefully.

"Uh, sir?" Cody asks.

"You've got calluses," Obi-Wan says, running his thumb over the rough spots on Cody's hands. "I never realized. My sense of touch has been very poor for the last few years."

Cody gets a bit of a pinched look in his face. "So your sense of touch is back now?"

"Well, it was never gone. The pain simply drowned out all but the strongest sensations. It was noise, yes, but...quite loud noise," Obi-Wan says. He holds Cody's hand in his own and finds it pleasantly warm. "Your hands are quite lovely."

"Um. Thank you, sir," Cody says.

"You know, I don't think I ever managed to thank you for everything you've done for me over the course of this war. I'm afraid I probably wouldn't have survived it if it weren't for you," Obi-Wan says. "Not just because of your wonderful competence as a Commander, but also because you have always been a faithful friend. You are good, Cody. And although I will always regret the circumstances that led to the war and the creation of you and your brothers, I will never regret you as people. Especially you, Cody. I'm blessed to have known you."

A flush creeps into Cody's cheeks, and he smiles. "Of course, Kenobi. I'm glad I got to serve under you, sir."

Obi-Wan smiles back. There's no reason not to--the war is over, they're well on their way to deactivating the chips in all of the clones, and the Sith Master has been stopped. Everything is good.

Just then, the door slides open again and Anakin stands there for a few seconds, glancing from Cody to Obi-Wan.

"Uh, am I interrupting something?" Anakin asks.

That, if anything, makes Cody blush even harder.

"No, not at all," Obi-Wan says, waving Anakin in. "Is Ahsoka out there, too?"

"Um, yeah," Anakin replies. "She wanted to, uh, give you two a moment. I think I'm starting to see why."

"Nonsense," Obi-Wan says. "Have her come in. The more, the merrier!"

Anakin shoots a panicked look at Cody. "Is he high? He never acts like this." Which honestly, is quite a rude thing to say right in front of the person he's talking about, but Anakin's always had issues with manners.

Cody sighs. "He's having a bit of an experience. Maybe he should hold your hand, too. He seems to enjoy it."

"Don't be ridiculous, I already know what Anakin's hands feel like," Obi-Wan says, idly running his thumb along Cody's knuckles. "Ahsoka, I know you're listening. Come on in and see your old Grandmaster. The healers won't let me leave this bed, for some reason."

"That's because you're injured," Ahsoka says as she comes in. She's grown so much taller in the last few years since Obi-Wan met her that it's practically unbelievable. He seems to be cursed to be the shortest person in their entire lineage--except for Yoda, anyways.

"I'm not actually injured," Obi-Wan says primly. "They're just keeping me under observation, and to make sure I actually get sleep, which I have. A full eight hours, in fact. It's amazing the things you can accomplish once you're not in excruciating pain."

Anakin winces. "Yeah, about that..."

"But not to worry," Obi-Wan replies. "I'm pretty much all better now. Still in pain, of course, but much, much less. I feel wonderful, actually!"

"Is he high?" Ahsoka stage-whispers to Anakin.

Anakin throws his arms into the air. "That's what I said!"

"Anakin, there's no need to be rude," Obi-Wan tells him.

Anakin makes a face like he's been caught sneaking droids into his room again. "Sorry, Master."

Obi-Wan pats Anakin's arm. "That's all right. Now, what brings you here?"

"We have some questions," Ahsoka says. "Like how did you get your information from Dooku? And what the kriff did you do to Palpatine? And why were you apparently in 'excruciating pain'?"

Obi-Wan nods. It's been this long, and they deserve to know--everything's over now, anyways. Force willing, there won't be another war like this again, and certainly not one that he's at the head of. "All very good questions, and all related to each other, as it turns out."

Ahsoka and Anakin lean in slightly. Cody watches him carefully.

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. "Well, it all started after my Master died..."