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what is essential is invisible to the eye

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Obi-Wan is sitting on the lid of their toilet seat, trying not to wince as he nervously worries the hangnail on his thumb between his teeth. His other hand is clenched around the chronometer he grabbed from the kitchen, his leg jittering. 

His comm chimes from where he dropped it by the sink but he cannot make himself reach for it. It is probably more reports he has to go over and any other time he’d have started on the work immediately but today he hopes that everyone writes off his late replies as a post-honeymoon indulgence, for all that he’s been married nearly a year now. 

He takes a deep breath before he reaches for the strip of plastic on the slab. The one he has spent the last few minutes pretending doesn’t exist. He sits with it held tight in his hands for a moment, trying not to hyperventilate as he runs a hand through his hair and tries to remember how to breathe. It takes him a few seconds and a pep-talk in his head to turn it over and then see the two pink lines which means he screwed up. 

“Fuck , he says with feeling as he lowers himself to the floor. His hands strangling the fabric of the robe that he draped over his sleeping clothes. His legs turn to jelly as he drops both the chronometer and the test into his lap. His heart is beating a rapid staccato against his chest and he’s never felt more unsure - not during the war, not when facing down Dooku, not when a teary-eyed Anakin had thrown himself in his lap, sobbing about the Chancellor and brainwashing , not confronting the Sith Lord, his lightsaber clutched between his hands, aware that he might not make it out of this fight. “Shit .” he intones. He really can’t think of anything else. 

For a scarily long moment, he considers denial. He’s nearly thirty-eight, and had suppressed his heats for fifteen years - first his padawan, then the war, making it a necessity. He’d told his alphas as much. That he might be infertile. That there were little to no chances of him ever conceiving and they had planned their lives without it. After all that trouble, all those years of pain, at thirty-eight, his body had decided to betray him. 

Pregnant. A Jedi master, pregnant at thirty-eight. The Force really liked pulling the rug out from under him, Obi-Wan had to give it that and also resolved to give it a stern talking to at some point. Later. Maybe. Once he had dealt with the current cards it had dealt him. 

Can he even carry a baby? After all the damage he’s accumulated over the years. All the times he’d been at the mercy of the Separatists, hanging from the wall by his wrists as Ventress got her hands on him. After the lightning that had passed through his body when he had faced Sidious, leaving him scarred and giving him nightmares for the rest of his life. What if his body decided it could not carry a baby to term? What if-

What if Cody and Rex realised the same things and decided they’d be better off with the baby and without him? He might be a Jedi master and on the High Council but there was no part of him that would ever raise arms against his alphas, and if they decided to take the baby and leave him behind, well.

He wasn’t sure he would survive that but he wouldn’t stop them. 

He slowly heaves himself off the floor, trying to control the shaking in his hands as he washes up in the sink. He carefully wraps the damning evidence in toilet paper before stepping into the shower, slowly calming down as he washes for the day. When he steps out, he pauses before the mirror, wiping away the condensation as he looks down at his stomach. It’s still flat,. He’s thinner than either his alphas or the healers would like, even now a year out from the war but he carefully strokes a hand across it. He’s going to be showing soon, if his mental calculations are correct and he’s hesitant to reach out with the force and feel a living thing inside him but. But it’s still there, even if he ignores it. 

“You’ve really done it this time, Kenobi.” He tells himself, as he makes his way out of the bathroom, tucking in the wadded up toilet paper he’s wrapped the test in under his towel. He’ll dispose of it on his way to the Council Meeting later. 

By the time Rex and Cody return from their morning spar, he’s in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil as he hears the door to their quarter open. He steels himself, pulling up a report to read on his datapad.  

“Good morning, cyare,” Rex said as he walked in. He brushes a gentle kiss to Obi-Wan’s hair, who hopelessly leans into the warm hand Rex places on his back. 

“Good morning.” he hums, tilting his head up for a kiss, which Cody obligingly gives him, smiling against his lips. Cody leans against the table as the kettle boils and Rex moves to pour Obi-Wan his cup of tea, passing it over with a kiss over his knuckles.

“How was your morning?” Obi-Wan asks. 

“Kicked Cody’s shebs, sparring.” Rex says and Cody snorts. 

“He lost twice and won Fives a bet.” He says and Obi-Wan can’t help laughing. 

“Traitors, all of them,” Rex says, as he drops into the chair next to Obi-Wan. “Haven’t been their Captain for six months and now they no longer have any respect for me.”  

“Truly, you suffer.” Obi-Wan says dryly as he runs his fingers through his hair. Rex steals a sip from his cup, making an exaggerated face at the lack of sugar. “Go shower you two.” he says, patting Cody’s thigh as he gets up, “I’ll make breakfast.”

When he turns back around, the two are giving him twin looks of mock-worry and he laughs. “Alright. I promise I will not make breakfast,” he says, “now go.”

Obi-Wan can hear the low hum of their conversation as they make their way to the bathroom and it does a good job of distracting him as he slices the bread and cracks eggs into a bowl; readying them for Cody to cook. However, once the bathroom door shuts and he can no longer hear their voices, his anxiety returns in full force. Their shower not going to give him much time at all, he lays out a tentative plan of action - he knows he has to go to the healers and he resolves not to say anything to them unless he has more information. 

He doesn’t even know if he can carry their children yet.

He jots down a note on the kitchen counter, claiming a preponement of the Council meeting and hopes they don’t look into it, and hurries out of their quarters as he hears them leave the shower, unable to face them. He needs some time to process this. Needs to know concrete information so he can start making long term plans. So he can figure out what to do when this slips through his fingers and his alphas realise what a big mistake their choice of omega has been. 

The thing is, the thing is , the war has just ended. They’ve barely started the recovery process. He still remembers the times when Rex and Cody would sit on the couch deep into the night, contemplating resigning their commissions, their discussions getting heated. The two of them have just fallen into a semblance of routine - of teaching and finding their feet. Realising who they were outside of the war they had been engineered for and Obi-Wan did not want to be the one who disrupted that routine. Not for something that was clearly his fault. 

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do yet. He isn’t even sure if the plan he’s thought out will work or if he’s deluding himself. For the first time since the war ended, he doesn’t know what his life will look like a week from now. What he does know is that he can’t tell Rex and Cody about this. Not yet. 

As he steps into the Council Chamber, he switches his comm off, ignoring the flashing of new messages on screen. 

Chapter Text

He spends the Council meeting half-zoned out, ignoring the increasingly concerned looks Plo and Mace keep sending his way. He knows his scent hasn’t changed yet or else half the Council and his own mates would’ve known about the development weeks ago but he can tell it’s on the cusp of it, after which there will be no hiding this. 

He isn’t the only omega on the Council - the Jedi don’t discriminate the way the rest of the Core worlds seem fond of doing but he is the youngest. Most of the people in the room have known him since he was in the creche and have helped raise him. His distress hasn’t started leaking into the Force yet but like most developments with this discovery, he knows it’s only a matter of time.

He’s the first out of his seat when the meeting ends. Dodging the other Masters as they try to talk to him, nearly colliding with Stass as he finally manages to duck out of the room. He can feel their puzzled looks as he retreats and hopes they chalk it up to either his usual strangeness or failing that, a by-product of Qui-Gon’s teachings finally rubbing off on him.

He speed walks to the medical wing, only realising that he forgot to comm Bant to confirm her availability as he enters. He breathes a sigh of relief when he checks her office and finds her in there. He ducks in quickly to ensure nobody he knows catches sight of him. The temple gossip networks were extensive and ever since they had meshed with the ones of the GAR, they had doubled in both size and speed. No doubt that his abrupt leaving of the Council chambers had already been reported by an overzealous Padawan. 

“Obi?” Bant asked, looking up from her desk. “You okay?”

Obi-Wan hesitates for a moment. Bant has known him since he came to the temple. His bunk in the creche had been between hers and Quinlan’s. The three of them plus Garen and Siri, have shared a bond ever since; even as it got pulled taut as they shuttled around the galaxy. There is very little she does not know about him and he suspects, there is very little he does not know about her. 

And yet the Force tells him that the first people he should break this news to are a few levels away and probably still worried about this morning. He tells the Force to shut up and steels his spine. 

“I think I’m pregnant.” he says in a rush and to her credit, her eyes only widen for a moment in surprise before she hides it behind a cloak of professionalism. 

“I assume you only recently found out?” she asks even as she stands and ushers him to the examination table hidden behind a curtain. She has more than a few friends who dislike the open nature of the medical wing, on display, even as you’re ushered into a private room and she's made accommodations to give them privacy. Making their visits feel more like old friends dropping in for a chat. 

He nods. “This morning. I took a test.”

“Alright,” she says, “I’m going to get some equipment. Give me a moment.”

He climbs onto the table, nervously twisting the fabric of his robes. A bad habit he thought he’d gotten rid of years ago. Bant is back in less than a  minute, dragging a scanner-trolley with a tray of equipment behind her. 

“Roll up your sleeves.” She told him and he quickly obeyed, looking away as she draws his blood. Bant injects the blood sample into a handheld machine, biting her lip as it beeps. 

“Well,” she says, giving him her full attention. “You’re definitely pregnant, Obi. Congratulations.”

He manages a weak smile at her before she turns back to the machine. 

“You’re around seven weeks,” Bant told him. “If you want, we can do a quick scan. I don’t think you’ll see much but I'm sure you can sense them with the Force already.”

“I haven’t.” Obi-Wan said, staring at his hands. When he looked back up, Bant appeared confused. “Haven’t tried to feel it with the Force.” He clarified. 

“Oh Obi,” Bant said. Her tone was the same as it had been at fourteen, when she’d found him hiding in the Room of a Thousand Fountains with a broken arm and unwilling to go to the healers. He had been completely wracked with guilt about the war he’d been in. Even then, she’d gently led him to the Halls. Her hand, a steady pressure between his shoulder blades, keeping him upright. 

Twenty-odd years later, she still exudes the same steadiness. 

“You haven’t talked to them, have you?” she asks and he shakes his head. 

“I’m thirty-eight Bant,” he says, “And I’m defective  - I’m not fit to carry a child and they know it and what if, you know I can’t, this isn’t, it can’t be -”

“Obi, breathe.” Bant says with her hand steady on his shoulder. His fingers are curled up in his palms and he can feel his nails break skin as tries for a few inhales, shuddering. Bant’s grip tightens as his breathing becomes steadier and she waits a moment for continuing. “Do you know what you want?” She asks.

“I’m not sure.” Obi-Wan says and for a moment he’s struck by how true that is. It has been years since he hasn’t known what he wanted - he wanted to be a padawan and then he wanted to raise Anakin. Wanted his Master to heal faster and then he wanted the war to end. And somewhere in the middle - he wanted his Commander and his Captain and peace, all at once. Obi-Wan has never been a man to want much but he’s always known what he wanted, even as he tried to deny himself it. He wants too many things now - and he knows he cannot have them all. That he’s grown selfish. 

“Have you decided if you want to raise the baby yourself?” 

“You think I should give it over to the creche?” He asks, trying not to let his distaste at the option show. The creche is a good place to grow - he knows that. He had been raised there, with the singing of the masters and their easy affection. Sleeping with his clan and feeling safe is something he carries with him, even now. He used to turn the memories over in his head during particularly difficult deployments. Trying to reach that long-forgotten feeling of warmth and serenity, even through time and space. 

But this child is his - in a way Anakin and Ahsoka weren’t. He hasn’t even tried to reach it with the force yet and he already knows it is infinitely precious, to be treasured and protected. He’s only been aware of it for a few hours but this child is going to be the best of them - the best of Obi-Wan and Rex and Cody all cobbled together and thinking about letting it out of his grasp, of giving it away makes him ache

Even as he thinks this, he already knows what’s going to happen. He drags his fingers down one of the veins of knotted tissue on his forearm - one of the numerous scars Sidious had left behind on his person and he can draw up the future in front of his eyes, as clear as day. 

The child inside him is invaluable. If - and this makes his heart ache - if his alphas do not see that, Obi-Wan knows he will raise this child alone. Even if that means moving somewhere far away, to avoid seeing their familiar faces. He will do his best by the life he has created. He will try.

“That is the decision you have to make.” Bant tells him. “Any child of yours has the possibility of being force sensitive and even if they aren't, adoption is always a possibility.” 

It takes Obi-Wan a moment to comprehend her sentence. He shakes his head when he finally understands. “I want to have it,” he says, “And keep it. I want to keep it.”

He isn’t sure what to do with his sudden need to protect. One he hasn’t felt since Anakin crawled into his bed the first night Qui-Gon was in Medical for what would become a months-long stay. 

“I had a nightmare.” He had whispered. His little fingers clutching the front of Obi-Wan’s robes, who unconsciously felt himself moving to curl around the cub in his nest. “You were gone.” 

“I’m here now.” He’d promised. “I’m always going to be here.” 

“Alright,” Bant said, either ignoring the revelation he’s just had or more likely, giving him space to work through it. “I’ll call in our head obstetrician. He should be the one to give you a scan, given that he will want to prescribe a course of medication and action.”

“Your head obstetrician?” Obi-Wan asks, news Rex gave him a few months ago suddenly fresh in his memory. 

Bant grins as she comms the Healer, “You’ve already met Kix, haven’t you?”

Obi-Wan slumps, burying his head in his hands. “The Force is out to get me.” he moans. 

“Now, now, Obi,” Bant says, her hand on his shoulder. “You must be more optimistic. Why, Master Qui-Gon isn’t even back from Jedha yet and you have to tell him too.”

Obi-Wan looks up, a look of horror on his face at the idea of telling his Master that he’s pregnant and Bant laughs, obviously taking delight in his situation. But then he sobers up at the thought that his Master may also believe Obi-Wan unfit to be a parent - they’ve come a long way from Naboo but Obi-Wan still knows the truth of the matter. 

It was easy for his Master to forsake him for another - and then for his own Padawan to hide so much of his life from him. Even if Cody and Rex decide they want the child, he knows they wouldn’t want to raise it with him. He’d been lucky enough that they wanted to bond with him but the truth of the matter is simple - no Alpha wants to raise their child with a scarred, scared Omega, who’s utility starts and ends with his ability to wage war. He’s already shown how inept he is with children - his own Padawan, Ahsoka, all testaments to his mistakes. No being would ever consider him a fit parent - and there is only so much grace Rex and Cody can be have. 

They will try, he knows. They will try and raise the child with him - will try to see the best in him, they always have. But there is only a finite amount of patience they can be expected to have and sooner or later, they will grow tired of how unfit he is for his job. For all that he knows that he will be willing to raise this child on his own if he must, he knows Rex and Cody alone - without him - would be best suited for the job. 

He wonders, for a single moment that seems to stretch on, just how long he’s been waiting for Rex and Cody to leave him. 

“Are you sure you can’t be my doctor?” he asks, trying to hide the edge of desperation in his voice. 

“I’m a surgeon Obi.” Bant says, “Kix has trained to be an obstetrician, even though he was a war medic first. He’ll know what to do better than I will.”

A knock on the door interrupts their conversation, the door opening a moment later. 

“Alright Bant,” Kix says, not looking up from his datapad, “who is this patient that couldn’t schedule an appointment with me normally?”

He looks up, and stops in his tracks. 

Obi-Wan has woken up in the medbay of the Resolute nearly as many times as that of the Negotiator. He is very used to seeing Kix’s face when his eyes open, and closing them again as Kix checks on his injuries. Kix had reminded him of his own medics during the war - grumbling, tired, overworked. They had all been in those years that had seemed to last a lifetime. 

“Obi-Wan.” Kix says. 

“It’s good to see you Kix,” Obi-Wan says as Bant excuses herself from the room. “How have you been?”

“I’ve realised that Jedi, in and out of battlefields, tend to be di’kuts.” Kix says tartly, dropping his datapad on a side table. “You’re pregnant then?”

“About seven weeks, Bant says.” He replies, and Kix nods, rolling over the scanner. 

He frowns as he hands Obi-Wan a medical robe to get changed into, and draws the curtain behind him. “Are the Commander and Captain not in the Temple?” 

Obi-Wan stops undressing for a moment, his fingers tightening his robe, before he relaxes them, and smooths out the wrinkled area. “No, they are.” 

Kix reads the expression on his face easily as he steps out, and motions for him to lay down on the examination table. He pulls out the scanner, opening the gown. 

“You haven’t told them?” he says after a moment. 

Obi-Wan nods. He cannot read approval or disapproval on Kix’s face, who is radiating a steady unflappability into the Force. 

They’re quiet as Kix covers his belly in a cold gel, clicking his tongue in sympathy when Obi-Wan hisses at the temperature. Obi-Wan stares at the tiles in the ceiling, and wonders how much easier this would have been had one of his mates been there to hold his hand. Thinks he would have at least been warmer. 

“Are you not going to ask?” he says. 

“Not unless you volunteer.” Kix replies. 

Obi-Wan smiles. “I do not remember your bedside manner being so cooperative during the war.” 

The medics during the war were fearsome in their own right, and famously uncaring of things like ‘patient privacy’ and ‘bedside manner’. He has vivid memories of Kix yelling at Rex long enough to cow even the fearless captain. Has himself been on the receiving end of that sharp tongue on days when he felt his own injuries could wait to be seen. 

“We are not at war.” Kix says, and for some reason it seems like a reminder, “Haven’t been for a while.”

They’re quiet as the scanner does its work. There’s a shadow of a smile on Kix’s face as the scanner beeps, and Obi-Wan turns to look at the screen. He can’t see anything, all of it just streaks of black and white to him. 

“Congratulations Obi-Wan,” Kix says, “everything looks healthy.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes as a tear drips out. He’s pregnant, as unexpected at thirty-eight as it would have been at eighteen. He’s pregnant, and in medbay without anyone to hold his hand. Because he doesn’t know what he wants, or what his mates want, and he’s sure that whatever it is, it won’t be him. Kix doesn’t say anything as he hands him a box of paper towels, drawing the curtain again. 

Obi-Wan cleans up mindlessly, hopping back on the examination table as Kix snaps off his gloves, the latex loud in the quiet of the room. He drags a stool closer, sitting down as he pulls out a sheet of flimsi, scribbling on it. 

“Your age shouldn’t be much of an issue.” he says as he writes.  “Stewjoni live long lives, even if their fertility periods are limited. You still have a ways to go before the end of yours. The internal scarring and the operations you’ve had may become a problem. Especially towards the latter part of your pregnancy but it’s nothing we can’t handle.” He hands Obi-Wan the piece of flimsi, and snaps his stylus shut. “These are a few prenatal vitamins I’d like you to get started on.”

Obi-Wan folds up the prescription, tucking it into his belt. He pulls his boots closer with the force, tugging them on. 

“Family is important to us.” Kix says quietly. “We hold it above all.”

Obi-Wan tenses. “Yes.”

“They deserve to know.” Kix draws a hand up to rub at his eyes. “They’re my brothers.”

“Will you tell them?”

“No.” Kix says, “but you should.” 

Obi-Wan nods, his thoughts already running a klick a minute. He doesn’t make any promises. 

Chapter Text

Rex closes his eyes as he slams back the rest of his drink, holding up a finger to the bartender, signalling for another. The bartender raises an eyebrow at him, her tentacles flicking judgmentally even as she refills his glass. Rex smiles in thanks, grateful that she hasn’t decided to comment on his dishevelled appearance or the way he’s spent the last few hours drinking the bar dry. 

Kriffing Kamonian gene alteration. He couldn’t even get hammered unless he dedicated an evening to it. 

“I’ll have what he’s having.” A voice says and a familiar hand on his shoulder, as a body drops into the chair next to him. 

“You can’t leave me alone ori’vod?” He drawls, as Gree empties half his glass on his first sip. 

“Never Rex’ika,” Gree replies. A pause and then, “You’ve got your riduur and Cody worried sick.”

Rex snorts. With the way Obi-Wan has been doing his best to avoid both his riduurs these days, he doubts his husband has even noticed his absence. 

“What do you want?” he asks, as Gree signals at the bartender. 

“What? I can’t simply enjoy a drink with my vod?”

Rex snorts. He had picked this bar on purpose. Deep enough in the lower levels that nobody he knew was likely to stumble upon him accidentally. The place is only frequented by criminals and the Corrie Guard. He had wanted his pity party uninterrupted. 

“Who tattled?”

Gree sips from his drink, thumbing through his communicator before he drops it into the inner pocket of his jacket. “One of Fox’s boys was doing a sweep, recognised you.”

“Fox’s former boys, you mean,” Rex said around the rim of his glass. “Considering Fox is a senator now.”

“Poor schmuck.” Gree nodded, clinking his glass against Rex’s. He waits a moment for the inevitable questioning and Gree is never one to disappoint. “Why are you down here looking worse than a bantha on Hoth?”

“A man can’t get drunk in peace around here?” he asked. 

“Not when the man in question has a very worried Jedi Councilor asking about him.”

Rex snorts and Gree turns to him with questioning eyes. He shakes his head, turning back to his drink with his eyes ahead. He’s torn between telling his brother and keeping his problems to himself. Their marriage was theirs . They’d agreed before they said their vows - not the GARs or the Jedi’s. 

“I’m asking as your older brother, Rex,” Gree says, his voice gentler. “This isn’t like you.”

Rex turns to him and Gree just pointedly looks at the empty glasses surrounding him and alright, maybe he had a point. 

“He doesn’t sleep in our bed anymore,” he says quietly. “Slips out in the morning before we’re awake. Avoids us all the time. I don’t think I’ve held him in a month.” He can’t help the tremble in his voice as he continues. “I miss him, Gree and I don’t know what we’ve done and I wish he would just tell us.”

Gree is silent for a moment and then he gets up, passing his credit chip to the bartender, his mostly untouched drink on the table. “C’mon,” he says roughly. “I’ll take you home.”

They drive back mostly in silence. Rex slowly sipping at the bottle of water the bartender had handed him, resting his head against the cool transparisteel of the window. He knows Gree had something to say but he isn’t very sure he wants to hear it. They don’t talk until they are inside his quarters, Rex stretched out on the sofa, Cody leaning against it. 

“Gree has something to say, Codes.” Rex announces and Cody turns to the other Commander, raising an eyebrow. 

“I might be overstepping...” Gree begins and Cody is already shaking his head. 

“Don’t bother saying it,” he says. “I’ve already thought about it and it’s not possible.”

“Oh?” Gree says, “Does Rex know?” 

“Rex can come to his own conclusions,” Cody growls, “because he is a grown-up and this is our marriage.”

“And he deserves to know what you’ve been thinking.” Gree snaps back and Cody growls. Rex has been in enough of their fights while on  Kamino, back when they were still establishing pack order, to see where this is going. He can also, sickeningly, see which conclusion Cody had arrived to and then rejected. 

“You think he’s stepping out on us.” he breathes, horrified and the other two stop. 

“The behaviour all adds up.” Gree says and Cody scowls at him. 

“Rex-” he begins, only to be interrupted by Rex’s snarl. 

“He isn’t cheating on us,” Rex snaps at Gree . “He’s ours. ” He turns to Cody. “You thought he was?”

“I did,” Cody agrees, “and then I dismissed it, same as you because he wouldn’t do that to us. If he wanted to leave, he’d tell us.”

“But he’s hiding something.” Rex says and Cody nods. 

“We need to talk to him first,”  Cody replies. “Before we jump to conclusions.”

Gree’s eyes flick between the two of them, weighing. Rex knows that look - has worn it himself. It’s the look of a brother when he realises the other two are going to learn a lesson - one you’ve already learned yourself, usually, - and that the lesson is going to be harsh, but important. 

He clenches his jaw, crossing his arms. Gree was wrong. This, Rex knew with absolute certainty, and he knew Cody agreed with him. The looks on their faces must have convinced Gree, because he sighed, rolling his shoulders. Rex knew he was only trying to look out for them - Gree did not want to have this conversation either, but he had been ready to. 

“You two have fun, then.” Gree says, slapping his knee as he stands up. “I’m going to go find my bed.”

“Thank you for getting Rex home.” Cody says as he turns to the door. Gree gives him a short nod and by the time Rex opens his mouth, he’s already disappeared, the door softly closing behind him.

*

Obi-Wan is just turning the corner when he runs into Commander Gree. He’s making his way back from another long day in the archives - not hiding, despite what Bant thinks. It’s late enough at night for the temple corridors to be empty of everyone except those on nocturnal rhythms, and he almost asks the Commander what he’s doing here before he starts talking.

“Look,” Commander Gree says. His voice is low and his tone urgent. “They’ve already guessed what’s going on but they’ve dismissed it because they don’t think you’d do that to them. So just put a stop to it before it causes anyone more pain.”

Obi-Wan can’t help the hand that comes up to cover his mouth. 

“They know?” He eventually manages to get out. 

“Yes,” The Commander replies, “and they don’t think you’d hurt them like that. Neither did I, Kenobi but these things happen I guess. So if you take care of it as soon as possible, nobody else has to know.”

Obi-Wan nods dumbly, even as the Commander squeezes his shoulder, seemingly trying to offer comfort. 

“I’m just trying to look after my brothers,” Gree adds hesitantly. “Someone has to.”

“I understand Commander,” Obi-Wan replies. He feels like he’s floating. Like part of him has stepped away from this conversation. He’d thought his mates would be unsure, maybe even a little upset about the situation. He hadn’t thought they would take it as a personal betrayal or be this horrified about the situation. He barely notices when Commander Gree leaves, unaware of where his own steps are leading him as he walks out of the temple. 

He’s a bad mate, he knows now. His alphas clearly didn’t want children and had he been better - a better Jedi, a better omega, a better husband, he would have realised this sooner, taken steps to prevent it earlier. As is, he’s already disappointing them. 

It’s only when he’s knocking on a familiar door that he realises where he is. A rumpled Padme Amidala opens the door, her eyes widening as she takes in his dishevelled state. 

“Obi-Wan,” she says, as she ushers him in “Are you alright?”

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan tries to leave once he realises the hour but Padme listens to none of it, ushering him into their living room and depositing him on an overstuffed sofa before disappearing to grab his former padawan. When he pulls off his outer robe, he realises it’s damp and wonders if he got caught in the rain. 

“Master,” a familiar voice says upon entering the room and Obi-Wan looks up to see Anakin rubbing his eyes. “Padme said-” he stops short, just staring at Obi-Wan. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Obi-Wan asks. 

“You’re glowing in the force, Obi-Wan,” he says. “It’s twins.”

“I’m having twins?”

Anakin winces at how shrill Obi-Wan’s voice went. Scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Surprise?” He ventures. 

And then, to Anakin’s alarm, Obi-Wan buries his face in his hands and bursts into tears. 

“Hey hey, Obi-Wan? What is it?” Anakin asks, as he skids to his side and wraps his arm around him. Obi-Wan’s sobs increase in intensity and then Padme enters the room, C-3PO carrying a tray beside her. 

“Ani, what did you do?” she says, as she settles on Obi-Wan’s other side and perhaps for the first time since Anakin built him, C-3PO leaves the room silently. 

“Nothing,” he insists. “I just told him the twins glow brightly in the force.”

“He’s crying because Luke and Leia glow brightly in the force?” Padme asks, flabbergasted. 

“Not our twins.” Anakin replies. “His twins!”

“Obi-Wan, you’re pregnant?” Padme asks the sobbing man, who just cries harder at her question. 

Anakin looked at her, the two of them sharing a worried look as Anakin ran his hand soothingly down his master’s spine. He had never seen Obi-Wan like this. Not even when they had found out who the Sith Lord orchestrating the war was or in the weeks spent in medical following that. Something had upset the man and it was clearly tied to his pregnancy. 

His pregnancy. Obi-Wan was pregnant. Anakin shelved his own crisis at the thought - he could have one later. Obi-Wan was having one now

“Obi-Wan?” He asked gently. “What is it? Did you just find out you’re pregnant?”

Obi-Wan shook his head and Anakin shoved the sliver of hurt he felt at Obi-Wan having known he was pregnant for a while right alongside the crisis he was going to have later. 

“Did someone say something to you about it?” he asks and Obi-Wan hesitates for a moment before shaking his head. 

“Did Rex and Cody say something?” Padme ventures and Obi-Wan shrugs, taking the tissue Padme offers him. 

Anakin thinks for a moment before trying again. “Did one of the vod say something?”

Obi-Wan nods and Anakin hides his fist pump. He busies himself pouring tea as Padme herds Obi-Wan to the bathroom, getting him into dry clothes and wrapping a shawl around him before depositing him back on the sofa. Anakin hands him a cup of tea and preens when Obi-Wan smiles after taking a sip, his inner alpha satisfied at making a familial omega happy. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Anakin asks when Obi-Wan is halfway through his cup.

Padme lays a comforting hand on his arm and Obi-Wan leans into it, happy to be surrounded by two alphas he recognises as family-safe-comfort . He contemplates it for a moment and then nods. His secret is already out. There is nothing more he is hiding from Anakin. His padawan already has two children - if, and he tries not to recoil at the thought, if his alphas really don’t want the children, he figures raising them alone will be easier with the experience of two other people who are already raising twins. 

“I,” he clears his throat and tries again, “I found out that Cody and Rex would prefer not having children.” It takes everything in him to not break out sobbing at the sentence figuring he’s already embarrassed himself enough today.

At once, both alpha’s scents sour and he can feel them exchange looks over his head. His exhaustion hits him all at once and he curls up on himself. Anakin retrieves the cup from his loose grip. The scent of his padawan is as familiar to him as his own, and in its presence exhaustion takes a hold of him like a wave. He looks at Padme’s soft smile and the warmth radiating from Anakin. He doesn’t want to think anymore. He closes his eyes.

Anakin is grinning before he even opens the door. The looming figure of his grandmaster is a familiar and welcome shape. He’s immediately engulfed in a bear hug that he has to go on his toes for and he can feel the breath being squeezed out of him from Qui Gon’s grandfatherly affection. 

“How was your pilgrimage, Master?” He asks as he carries Qui-Gon’s bags inside, dropping them by the entryway to the bedrooms. 

“Fruitful,” Qui-Gon answers. “I also got a new crystal for my saber.”

“Does Obi-Wan know you’ve lost the last one yet?” Anakin asks, dodging the slap Qui-Gon aims at the back of his head. 

“I shudder to think what he would do when he learns that I’ve deprived him of turning yet another one of my lightsabers into a shoto.” He smiles conspiratorially at Anakin before sobering up. “Is he alright? He closed down our bond a few weeks ago, and I’ve been unable to contact him.”

Anakin opens his mouth and then shuts it again, clearly aching to tell Qui-Gon something. “It should come from him.” He settles on and Qui-Gon nods. “Just be gentle.” He adds quickly and Qui-Gon frowns. 

Obi-Wan is on the floor of Anakin’s living room, the table moved to the side. It looks like the twin’s toybox has thrown up on the carpet and Obi-Wan has Leia on his lap. The toddler looks like she’s trying to grab Obi-Wan’s lightsaber while Luke is on the carpet, babbling at him as Obi-Wan nods along. 

Leia spots him first and shrieks her greeting, right before Qui-Gon bends and sweeps up both her and Luke into his arms. He doesn’t miss the quick look Anakin and Obi-Wan exchange. Nor the way Anakin shakes his head at Obi-Wan in response. 

“Master.” Obi-Wan greets him as he stands up. Qui-Gon hands the twins over to Anakin before dragging his former padawan into a hug. He pulled away a moment later, holding Obi-Wan at arm’s length and eyeing him in confusion. 

“Are you?” he asks and Obi-Wan blushes before nodding. Qui-Gon drags him back into a hug, confused at the way Obi-Wan clutches at his robes in a way he hasn’t since he was a teenager. “Are you alright?” 

Obi-Wan’s answering nod is interrupted halfway by a sob muffled into Qui-Gon’s shoulder and Qui-Gon’s concern increased manifold. 

“I’m going to go put the twins down for their nap.” Anakin says before leaving the room. Obi-Wan let go of his master, wiping at his face as he was steered to the sofa. It was a moment before either of them spoke again. 

“You’re glowing in the Force.” Qui-Gon remarks and Obi-Wan let out a wet laugh. 

“Anakin said the same.” he replies and Qui-Gon smiled. 

“Congratulations Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said. He cupped his apprentice’s cheek with one hand and gently thumbing at the dark smudges under his eyes. “I’m so proud of you.”

Obi-Wan smiled, a muted echo of his usual. “Thank you Master.”

“What is it, Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked, his concern mounting. “I thought you would be much more joyous at such an occasion.”

“I made a mistake,” Obi-Wan admitted, his eyes downcast, “I,” he swallowed, “it appears I will be raising the children on my own.”

“What?” Qui-Gon thundered, only lowering his voice when Obi-Wan’s hurt stricken eyes land on him. “What did your husbands say?”

“I ran into Commander Gree at the temple this morning and he informed me that it would be better for everyone were this situation taken care of discreetly.” Obi-Wan informed him.

His voice is even as he speaks but Qui-Gon can detect the undercurrent of hurt in his tone. He squashes down his own protective instincts of protect-cub-hurt and frowns as he realises what bugs him the most about Obi-Wan’s narration. 

“Obi-Wan,” he asks cautiously, “have you told them you’re pregnant yet yourself?”

Cody looks up from his comm only to find Rex still pacing the same length of the carpet. He raises an eyebrow, catching his eye. Rex shakes his head. 

“It’s almost noon.” Rex bites off. Cody nods. “He’s never been gone this long before.”

Cody has spent a war next to the man they’re waiting for. Has spent hours bemoaning to his brothers about his General’s tendency to disappear, to take on missions on his own without backup. He never thought he’d have to do it after - after the war, their wedding, after being bonded to the man. 

He thinks of his omega out in the city on his own and his teeth ache. 

“He’ll be back.” He says, reassuring. Himself or Rex, he didn’t know. 

“When?” Rex says and Cody doesn’t have an answer. 

He doesn’t know what’s happened, why there is suddenly a chasm between them and Obi-Wan. Gree’s words still rattle around his head and as much as he doesn’t believe them, he knows there is something wrong. Something Obi-Wan is hiding and he can’t help but feel that whatever happens today is going to irrevocably change his life. Their lives. 

Just as he is about to suggest comming Skywalker again - because the former Jedi hadn’t picked up when they’d tried earlier which only confirms Cody’s theory that he knows something , the door to their quarters opens. 

It’s Obi-Wan, dressed in robes far too loose to be his own, reeking of other alphas. Were Cody in a better state of mind, he’d have recognised those scents as familiar - as family. Were he Marshall Commander Cody right now, he’d have taken a step back, assessed the situation. 

But he isn’t. In this moment he is only Cody, the man who stayed up all night because his husband didn’t come home. Because his husband has been avoiding them for weeks now. Something inside him snaps and all he wants right now is answers. 

“Where have you been?” he says roughly and Rex looks at him in surprise. Cody has always been the one to reconcile the differences between them - mitigating Rex’s temper and Obi-Wan’s near-painful benevolence. For once, he just wants them to talk - as people, as mates, as husbands. 

“Anakin’s.” Obi-Wan says with a dry swallow. He steps inside their quarters and closes the door slowly. His demeanour resembles that of someone walking to the gallows. His scent is sweeter than it was before but it’s soured by fear leaking into it and it makes Cody take a step back. 

Is Obi-Wan afraid of them? 

Before he can voice his concerns, Obi-Wan looks up, meeting Rex’s eyes and then his. His own eyes are red-rimmed and he looks exhausted. Like he hasn’t slept for weeks and Cody can feel something shift. Something in him settles and he feels the same quiet he did before going into battle. When he was aware that change was coming, that he couldn’t stop it. 

“We need to talk.” Obi-Wan says and Cody nods. 

“Yes.” he agrees. 

Chapter Text

Cody carved the bed in their quarters himself. 

Their courting had been unorthodox. Mandalorians courted using weapons - a weapon forged by the alpha’s own hands was the traditional way to propose. Jedi courting was markedly different from others by the lack of possessions exchanged. They courted in subtler ways - a meal cooked for your beloved, hands held together during meditation. Braving Master Nu, to return a tome late, if you wanted to risk a grander gesture. 

The vod were not Mandalorian. Obi-wan was not trying to court another Jedi. Their courtship had been improvised - on and off the battlefield, drawn-out during months spent on star-destroyers. 

At some point during the war, Obi-Wan had accidentally stolen one of his Commander’s vambraces and the two had spent weeks ignoring it and refusing to swap back. At some point Rex had exchanged Obi-Wan’s other vambrace for his. Then Obi-Wan had started cooking them meals whenever they found themselves in the Temple, he fussed over their armour and on one occasion, shyly tucking in flowers behind both their ears. It had taken Fives out of all people to point out that they were courting. Which he did in the mess hall, very loudly, in front of nearly every brother from both battalions. 

Cody says he still has bruises from all the backslaps he got in congratulations from his vod. 

After the war, Rex had planted a garden. Deep in the Temple, in one of the places that fewer people visited. He had even braved Obi-Wan’s former Master for help, after an offhand comment by his General on his grandmaster’s green thumb. Obi-Wan had decidedly not cried when he had first seen the garden and would deny that it was his favourite spot to meditate to anyone who asked. 

Cody, on the other hand, had carved their marital bed. He had begun in the confusion after the war, when they weren’t sure Obi-Wan would ever come out of the bacta. The angry scars that the lightning had left on him, stark even through the murkiness of the tank. His hands trembled on the wood when he first began and he had refused to let anyone help. The wood was old; from one of the many trees in the temple and he had felled it himself, after receiving permission from the Council. 

It had taken him weeks to finish it. Long after the healers had declared Obi-Wan would live, even if he wouldn’t make a full recovery. By the time Obi-Wan had seen the bed, he had already accepted both their proposals. They said their vows the day he had been let out of the ward. His shaking hands clutched between theirs, kneeling in front of the Council; as Anakin and their vod tied fabric from those closest to them over their hands, binding them to each other forever. 

Their wedding had been held in Jedi tradition, but the vows they had sworn to each other had been Mandalorian. Like the vows of the Jedi, Mandalorian marriage vows could be broken but never again could they be sworn to another. 

Even a year out, Cody still remembered the feeling of Obi-Wan’s hand clutched in his. He had held them gently, afraid of irritating his wounds. His hands trembling and he remembers thinking how remarkable it was that those hands could move mountains. 

He watches Obi-Wan now, as he tucks those hands away in his sleeves, his eyes downcast. He hesitates, his anger burning out in a flash. He extends a hand, steps towards Obi-Wan, only to stop when Rex raises an eyebrow at him. 

“You didn’t come home last night.” he says instead. “You nearly moved out of our quarters, we haven’t seen you in weeks.”

Obi-Wan winces, and moves to sit down, both of them following. They frown as he chooses the armchair and decidedly settle in on the sofa across from him, exchanging a look. 

“Obi-Wan,” Rex says gently, leaning forward, “if there’s anything we did-”

Obi-Wan looks up at this, his eyes flashing. “No,” he exclaims, before catching himself. “I mean,” he begins again, slower, “Commander Gree informed me that you both knew about the situation and he asked me to resolve it discreetly and I need some time to myself after that.”

Rex turns to look at Cody. Obi-Wan’s scent is absolutely miserable, matching his tone. 

“The situation?” Cody asks, unwilling to believe that Gree had been right. “How are you planning on resolving it?”

Obi-Wan looks defeated, his hands wrinkling and smoothing out the same length of fabric. It isn’t the demeanour Cody would expect from someone caught cheating. Not that he thinks Obi-Wan would ever cheat. When he looks at Rex, he knows they’re both thinking the same thing. 

Something is very wrong. 

“I expect a divorce is only natural.” Obi-Wan says bluntly, wincing. 

All the tension drains out of Cody at once, and he slumps against the couch. “What?” he says.

Rex stands up, crossing the floor to pull Obi-Wan out of the armchair. He rises, unresisting, lets Rex manoeuvre him into the space next to Cody and doesn’t protest once. Rex slides to his knees on the carpet in front of him, gripping Obi Wan's thighs as though to keep him.

“Cyare,” he says and suppresses the whine that wants to emerge from his throat at the way Obi-Wan winces at the word, “what exactly did Gree say to you?”

Obi-Wan looks up, confused. “He said that the two of you were aware of the situation,” his voice turns heated as he turns to look at Cody. “That I should take care of it because these things happen and if I took care of it quick enough I could spare you both any more pain.”

“The situation?” Cody says, before Rex shakes his head. 

“Who are you having an affair with?” he growls bluntly and Obi-Wan yanks his hand away, his scent brimming with hurt. 

“Excuse me?” he asks, voice trembling in disbelief and shock. Cody throws his hands up, confused even more. 

“Well, which situation are you referring to?” he asks, at the end of his rope.

“The pregnancy, of course!” Obi-Wan exclaims, like they should have known about it already. As if it was obvious. 

“You’re pregnant?” Rex asks.

“Yes, I’m pregnant.” Obi-Wan says, “and you’re the ones who don’t want them, so I’m trying to take care of it because I do.”

When he looks at the two alphas, they’re sitting shock-still, their mouths hanging open dumbly. 

“I’m pregnant.” he says again, slower. “Did you not know?”

“You disappeared.” Cody whispers. “We haven’t held you in weeks. Gree thought you were having an affair.”

“Well, that’s callous of him.” Obi-Wan mutters before getting interrupted by Rex.  Rex yanks him forward an inch by his knees to redirect his attention to where it should properly be.

“You’re-” he says and there are tears in his eyes. “Babies?” he asks. 

“Twins.” Obi-Wan confirms and Rex turns to Cody. 

“Twins.” he echoes and Cody laughs wetly. His hands are on Obi-Wan’s hips, as he lifts him out of Rex's grip, into his lap, sideways, cradling him like he’s something precious. Like Cody had always held him - like both his alphas had always held him and for a moment Obi-Wan can’t remember why he had ever thought this would turn out differently. 

Then the last few weeks sink in and the moment of happiness disappears. 

“Our lives just settled.” Obi-Wan chuckles weakly. “Things are finally stable, happy. And what if adding babies to things changes them again; in a way we’re not ready for?” He breathes in as Rex kisses the back of his hand and sighs. “It is selfish of me to want them, I know,” he admits. “But I do. I want them very much, even if the two of you might not.”

Rex whines and Obi-Wan drags his fingers through his hair before he continues. 

“I’m not young,” he says. “Or healthy. I mean, look at me.”

Cody does. 

Obi-Wan has more wrinkles on his face than he did when they first met. Lines, weathered by age. He has more laugh lines now, which is good.  His arms are streaked with jagged scars. They extend up his neck, down his back and chest, and cover parts of his face - the side of his left cheek, extending through his sideburns, up his forehead. He remembers when they were new - remembers them bloody, and then, after bacta, painful and red. He’s stayed up at night with Rex to rub bacta on them. Has held Obi-Wan and given him space when they started to hurt. But he never thought they’d made Obi-Wan anything less than who he always was. They haven’t taken anything from him, haven’t reduced him any. 

It’s Rex who says what he’s thinking. 

“We love you.” he says, simply. “We loved you before the war ended and we love you after. We want to raise a child with you - want to raise children.”

“We are looking cyare,” Cody agrees fiercely. “There is no part of you that is unwanted. We want you. The pups are a blessing from the force, but we would have loved you without them too.”

Obi-Wan sobs, burying his face in Cody’s shoulder as Rex rises to cradle him, his arms wrapping around them. 

“We won’t even know which of yours they are.” He says in-between sobs and Cody barks a surprised laugh, as Rex buries his chuckles in the back of Obi-Wan’s neck. 

“If they’re dumb enough to punch clankers we’ll know who’s they are.” he says and Obi-Wan hiccups wetly, his hand coming up to grip Rex’s shirt. 

“We’re going to be dads.” Cody says simply and Obi-Wan moves, pecking his lips once, before he kisses Rex. “We’re going to be dads.” he repeats, and Obi-Wan yelps as Rex picks him up, twirling him around before hugging him close, kissing the top of his head. 

Obi-Wan laughs as he wraps his legs around the alphas waist. He feels so full of happiness that he could burst. Even as the exhaustion of the past weeks catches up to him. “I’m sorry ” he whispers, “I love you, both of you, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s on all of us.” Cody says, as he comes up behind them, dropping a kiss to Obi-Wan’s neck, where his robe has fallen away to reveal his bondmark. “You should’ve felt safe enough to come talk to us about it and you didn’t. It’s something we all need to work on together.”

“I was planning on raising them on my own.” Obi-Wan says, as he unwraps his legs, their hands on him steadying as he stand on his own feet, looking up at them. “I thought... I thought you didn’t want them, but I did and I was prepared to raise them on my own.”

“Strong omega,” Rex says, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him closer, “you’re never going to be alone.”

“Not as long as we have something to say about it.” Cody agrees, moving in closer to kiss him sweetly. 

“Can we see?” Rex asks hesitantly, his fingers fluttering over Obi-Wan’s hips. He nods, leaning up to kiss the alpha once, sweetly, laughing as Rex chased his lips. His fingers clutch his mostly discarded outer robe, before he shrugs it off. 

Cody drops a kiss on his shoulder, and Obi-Wan sighs contently. He wants to say something - about how thrilled he is they’re here, or how much he thought he would never have this. Or even about the corner they had all talked themselves into - just unable to speak to each other, wrapped up in their own insecurities. No words come to him, and all he can think about is the warmth of them, surrounding him. There will be time for talk later. 

He hadn’t even realised how cold he’d felt for weeks.

"I-" he says, "here," yanking his tunic up. There's no bump, not yet, but there's a curve to his stomach that wasn't there before, and he watches at his alphas stroke their fingers across it reverently, like something precious, like they were scared of hurting not only the pups, but him too. 

Rex leans in to kiss him again, and he melts into it. Cody’s hand is warm on his stomach, fingers cupping the curve of what will soon be a bump. 

“Can we talk about this mess later?” Rex says, once he’s finished kissing Obi-Wan. “Can we go to bed now?”

Obi-Wan smiles as he turns in his arms, resting a hand on Cody’s chest. 

“I could be persuaded.” he says, laughing as he’s herded into their bedroom.