Work Text:
Babies were so tiny.
Tinier than little cadets on their first growth stage. Tinier than tiny Jedi younglings. Tinier than tookas.
Rex had caught glimpses of natborn babies once or twice – on Coruscant or while helping civilians during campaigns – and they had probably all been bigger than this. He held the sleeping infant close, pinching his lips so he wouldn’t inadvertently make a noise and wake the baby up.
The baby.
There was a baby – a real, sleeping newly decanted baby in his arms. A clone baby. A like-him baby. A baby brother.
The tiny – so shiny, so tiny, so easy to break – brother already had a mop of dark curls, and General Allie had told Rex that his eyes would be greyish when he opened them from his nap, because most human babies had paler eyes at birth. Birth. A tiny, sleeping, newborn baby brother of just nine months.
Born.
Born out of a jar, sure, but brought into the world to have a real life and lead it the way he wanted, and not to fight in pointless wars. Rex felt like crying. His muscles were burning with the effort needed to suppress even the tiniest of movements.
He was holding his baby brother.
“I’m going to wake him up,” he whispered hoarsely, desperately hoping someone would take the baby from him.
Cody held out his arms and Rex very nearly flinched, angling his body away. Don’t, his instincts were screaming. Don’t let go of the tiny brother!
General Allie, who was busy checking on one of the four other sleeping infants, let out a hushed giggle, and Cody smiled too.
“Relax, Captain,” she said softly. “I’m keeping the little ones sound asleep.” She tapped her temple with a wink.
From where General Shaak Ti stood, poring over datapads with some medical droids, she nodded.
“Your young brother is quite content, Captain,” she informed him gently. “And Master Allie is a very proficient caretaker.”
Rex nodded sheepishly and tried to slow his racing heart, with only marginal success. Cody came closer and held out his arms again, and this time Rex managed to relax. Passing the baby over to their older brother was still terrifying – what if either of them dropped him? – but Cody was Cody. He was the oldest, and he was always collected and in control, and Rex trusted no one more. He watched Cody rock their shiny brother (not so shiny, in his soft brown and reddish Jedi onesie) with a bubble of envy and awe swelling in his chest at Cody’s Jedi-like serenity. Cody caught Rex’s eyes and rolled his.
“Frightened by a sleeping cadet, really?” he teased, while he gently rubbed the baby’s back where the onesie was emblazoned with a little wing and four-pointed star.
Rex didn’t even have it in himself to look for a clever retort. He sat down on the cold durasteel floor and sighed shakily.
“Hell,” he breathed. “Cadets were never that small.”