Lost to All

The Iceberg

The three of them got their breakfast and sat down. Ahsoka had taken note to how Rex was moving notably slower than his brothers. And half of them were asleep. When they sat down, the first thing Rex did was take a drink of his caf. He always drank it plain and hot. Fives, on the other hand, needed something sweet, so he was up getting creamer and such for it. Ahsoka had settled for some milk.

She took a drink and watched the Captain in silence. She must've been staring for he had looked up at her, "Something on your mind kid?" Rex asked as he set his cup down. Ahsoka sat up slightly when she realized she had been staring. The padawan had been trying to see any physical sign of exhaustion. Despite the fact that he was hungover, she couldn't tell. He still looked as tired as ever, the same usual resting face, but then she found it. The difference in his face, his eyes. Dim and broken. The shimmer was gone and his eyes looked oh so terribly sad.

"Oh, sorry!" Ahsoka apologized as Fives came back with Jesse. "I got caught up in my mind" she lied as she grabbed her fork and begun eating. Processed waffles, her favorite. Ahsoka never complained about the food, she had at first, and Anakin had gotten mad at her. Anakin told her he knew it wasn't the fancy food they got back at the temple because the senate didn't want to waste any more money than they had to. So she'd learned to keep her mouth shut, to never complain because the men had never had anything better.

"Ah, alright, eat your food, kiddo." Rex replied as he looked to his own food, he was hungry, but the thought of eating made that feeling go away. When he took a bite, he found himself disgusted as he chewed, forcing himself to swallow. He must've not done a good job at hiding his disgust, for Fives and Jesse were looking at him curiously. "You kids eat your food too." Rex glared at them, grabbing his cup of caf. The two quickly nodded and looked back to their plates, but turning to each other. Ahsoka had chuckled, punching Fives as she grabbed her cup and taking a drink.

Rex had eventually given up on trying to eat, grabbed his cup and tray to go dump it. As he stood up, he felt another dizzy spell, taking each step slowly, Rex had dumped the tray, put it on the rack, then headed to get more caf. He took a sip of the hot beverage while he was still at the station, he turned to see his boys, they had barely been up for an hour but they were all laughing, they had just buried hundreds of brothers but they were smiling. They were moving on with their lives, Rex knew he'd eventually have to do that too.

When a brother died, Rex pushed their death down and forgot their names. That's what they all did. After every mission, they'd stand together in the barracks, helmets off on the floor, held hands and stood in silence. Sometimes for hours. After they mourned, they had to get on with their lives. They had to forget and bury the memory of their fallen brothers. For remembering only brings pain. Rex had taken a long sip of his caf and thought about heading up to the bridge for orders. He had to start moving on.

Moving on. What an amusing idea, one day, he knew, he wouldn't be able to just move on. He'd lose a brother so close to him and he'd break, Rex knew that day would come, and it had. He'd lost Cody and knew he wasn't far from losing himself. When Cody died, Rex felt he had too. A part of him had, but his body hadn't. That enraged him, that he got to live and his brother, Marshal Commander Cody, was MIA, presumed dead. That's what MIA meant, unofficially.

He finished his caf then put it on the dish rack and walked back to the table, "I'm going to head back to my quarters then head to the bridge, thanks for inviting me for breakfast" Rex quickly said before giving them a nod and heading towards the door. When he lift the mess he didn't know if it was suddenly harder to breath or not. He marched down the hall with his usual stride, giving nods of acknowledgements to his men as they saluted him.

Once he had made it safety back to his quarters he looked at his room with disgust. It was time to pull himself together. He'd had his time to mourn, and now it was time to bury and forget. He threw away empty bottles, made his bed and occasionally stopped when he found himself getting dizzy. He rummaged through the drawers, pulling out every photo of the two and tossing it in the trash to be grabbed and thrown away. After the room was clean he took off his armor, sitting on his bed and resting his eyes. As he thought, he realized not only did the room stink, but him too, he then decided he needed a shower.

His shower was longer than he usual, the man never took long showers. But as the hot water hit his bare skin he found a sort of comfort, the feeling of warmth and security. When he turned off the faucet and stepped into the steam, he wiped the mirror, staring at his broken reflection. He scanned each imperfection and aging feature. For the longest time he stood there in the steamy washroom, he narrowed his eyes as he stared,

"You're not even half the man he was Rex, and you never will be"