Latest Posts by endortheline - Page 4

rex and constantly bashing his head on poles :)

Ah yes, a classic. Thank you for this, it was really fun to write!

Bonk

Bang!

“Ow!” A chorus of laughter rises up from the brothers around him as Rex rubs the top of his head. He gets up much more carefully this time, ducking under the low overhang before being swept into Cody’s side.

“You good there? Hit your head pretty hard. You should probably get it checked out.”

“S’fine.” Cody levels him the look™, the one that says ‘I know you’re lying’, but Rex just looks away. “Really, it’s all good.”

“Mhm. Do I get to say I told you so when you go to the infirmary for a concussion?”

“Won’t happen, but sure.”

***

“Looks like a mild concussion, he’ll have to skip the next few training sessions.” Rex nods, and the medic leaves. He can practically feel the smugness radiating off of Cody now.

“I told you so.”

“Shut.”

“Hey, you said I could say that!”

“Mmmmmm.”

“You did.” Cody sits down on the bed next to him and pulls him into a hug. “I gotta look out for my little brother, you know?”

“I know.”

“Good. Now rest, I don’t want to see you even inch out of that bed until the medics clear you.”

“Sir yes sir,” Rex says, mocking a salute as Cody walks away, earning a fond eye-roll.

*****

“Hey Rex!”

“Wha-” Rex doesn’t even get a chance to see what Cody had tried to point out. Instead, he smacks his head against the top of the opening to the cave, sending himself roughly to his back. He has a lovely view of the cave ceiling, and he can just barely make out the sky at the edge. He groans as he sits up, Cody bounding over and nearly knocking him back down.

“Rex are you okay oh my god oh my god oh my god.”

“I’m fine. Just… had a disagreement with the roof.” He knows Cody is hiding a laugh at that, his lips are pressed thin but he can’t hide the smirk. “Aw come on, that was funny.”

“Okay a little. But seriously, that looked pretty bad. Can you stand up at all?”

“Yeah yeah, look.” Rex tries to stand up and immediately regrets it. His head starts pounding and he leans over. Cody catches him and sits him down against the cave wall, right at the entrance.

“Okay no, you stay here. I’ll bring you some food and water and get the medkit.”

“Yep, that sounds great,” he says, his voice tight with the pain. He closes his eyes and waits as Cody runs around to get the various supplies he needs. It’s not long before he hears a cantine and medkit clattering to the ground, and he opens his eyes again.

“Just lemme check, alright?” He nods. Cody gently pushes back his hair, pressing lightly where Rex hit his head. “Mmm, I’ll just put a little bit of disinfectant cream on it for now, it should heal quickly on its own.” There’s the sting of the cream, and Rex scrunches his face a little, but a hand on his cheek reminds him to relax.

“Done?”

“Done. Here, drink.” Rex takes the offered cantine and has a few sips before putting it down. Cody sits down next to him, and Rex lays his head on his shoulder.

“Any better?”

“A bit. Thank you.”

“Of course. Anything for you.”

*****

Rex knows he should probably turn on night vision to be on the safe side. He shouldn’t rely on the glow of his general and commander’s lightsabers; they’re not bright enough to be reliable. However, they are bright enough to be blinding if he looks at them with night vision, which is hard to avoid here.

Bang!

Well, now he knows. He shakes his head a little, ducking under the pipe and hoping he can retain some sense of dignity before turning around to address his men.

“Night vision on.” He can feel Cody’s smirk even though he’s not there, and hear him fussing over him. He feels lucky Cody hasn’t seen this. Now he just has to make sure he doesn’t find out.

September 1st… Rex

Hey, look’s who got a tumblr. Me! I hope you enjoy these little drabbles. I worked hard on these. 

Word Count: 300

Characters: Rex, Anakin Skywalker

Enjoy!!

Rex hated having Jango as his template. One word. Curls. He hated them. That’s why he always buzzed his head as short as he could get it. He hated his curls. 

Keep reading

"It was me, Cody. It was me who killed Waxer. I'm almost positive about this..." Rex said quietly // If it's not so too late, oh, lovely Angst Igauana

It Was.... You?

You have awakened something terrible. This idea is exquisitely torturous and Iove it.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Rex hadn't stopped shaking, for days, he'd been shaking non-stop. Even while Cody held him and rocked him in his arms, telling him everything wasn't terrible anymore, he still shook. He still cried and he still wanted to die. The two sat in the barracks, Rex was holding himself as Cody did. The younger brother stared off as the memories flashed through his head, his stomach turning, "Cody, I, I think I know who shot Waxer." He mumbled, eyes not meeting his brother's.

Cody perked up, "What do you mean?" They know who shot Waxer, it was a brother, but it wasn't on purpose and it wouldn't have happened if Krell hadn't been there. "Rex, what do you mean?" He asked again. For a long moment, Rex didn't move, every part of him numb as a hot tear streamed down his face.

"I keep replaying everything in my head and I remember seeing a spot on a helmet, Waxer's helmet." Rex recalled, his voice monotone and broken, "Cody, I killed him," his head at last turned to face Cody, who's eyes narrowed. "He's dead because of me."

"Rex, it wasn't your fault, if you had known-"

"But I didn't!" Rex screamed, jumping to his feet, he stumbled a little as his knees almost gave out. "I didn't know so I shot him!" He continued to scream, causing Cody's throat to run dry as he desperately thought of what to say. "I don't deserve to be a Captain, not when I lead good men to their deaths. I killed so many brothers, I was counting in my head, wanna know how many?" His voice was dry.

Cody stared at his brother, he was sleep deprived, shaky and still in shock. Cody couldn't think of what to say to his poor brother, "Twentynine" Rex inturrupted Cody's thoughts, "I killed twentynine brothers before I realized they were brothers." Rex laughed, tears pouring from his eyes, "Twentynine brothers died by my hand, Waxer died by my hand before I realized, they were brothers."

Cody stood up, reaching out his hand, but just as he was about to speak, a voice cut in. "What did you say?" Both brothers turned to them, Boil. He stood still, "What did you say?" He repeated, taking a step closer. "C-cause it sounded like you said you killed Waxer, d-did you Rex? Kill Waxer?" Boil fumbled over his words. He hadn't been able to sleep, he hadn't been able to breath.

Rex froze as he stared at Boil, he'd never seen him without Waxer by his side. "I did, I killed him." Rex confirmed. Cody shook his head, and as he was about to speak, but found himself cut off yet again as Boil ran into Rex, forcing him against the wall, gripping his shirt collar tightly.

"It was you?!" He screamed, slamming Rex against the wall, "You killed him!?" He screamed, tears of pained rage falling from his eyes, "You killed my brother! My best friend!" He pulled Rex forward slightly before slamming him back yet again. Rex tried to break free, but part of him didn't fight back, for he deserved this. "You killed Waxer, out of everyone it was you?!" He kept slamming Rex back until Cody broke them apart. "You bastard!" He yelled.

"Boil!" Cody screamed as he shoved him off Rex and back, "Take a walk!" He ordered, voice loud and sharp. Rex fell to the ground, sobbing loudly like a child, rocking slightly. "Go-" Cody ordered, watching Boil shake his head, a snarl on his face. He stared at Rex, still shaking his head before leaving the barracks in a rush. Once Boil had promptly exited, Cody turned to Rex and collapsed to the floor next to him, "Hey, Rex, it's okay lil'un," Cody reached his hand out, only to jump when Rex snapped away

"Don't touch me!" Rex wailed as he rocked, whimpering between staggered breaths, "I deserved it! I deserve this!" He continued to ball as Cody felt his own heart crumble at the sight of seeing his baby brother so indescribable hurt. "Leave me alone." Rex whimpered, burying his face in his arms .

"N-no!" Cody blurted as his eyes watered, "I'm not leaving you." He stated, catching Rex's attention as he spoke, for his voice had cracked. Cody couldn't meet the gaze of his little brother, for he was supposed to be strong, he wasn't supposed to cry in front of him.

"Cody." Rex whimpered, becoming more sad that he made his brother cry. "Cody please don't cry, please." Rex begged as he crawled towards his brother, he was frantically wiping his eyes, but the tears were too much. Rex reached his brother and tugged on Cody's arms, but they wouldn't budge "Cody, stop crying," Rex continued to weakly pull his brother's arm as he had when they were young, "Stop crying!"

"I can't!" Cody's head shot up, "I know I'm supposed to be strong enough for us but dammit Rex, I can't take it! I can't take watching you sob and sob and I can't handle the fact that I can't help you or take away your pain!" Cody confessed, face red hot, "You're suffering and I can't help you!" Rex stared wide-eyed at Cody as he thought of what to say, but nothing came in mind. So Rex did the one thing he knew he could, he hugged his brother.

Pulling Cody to him and hugging him tightly. "I love you, Bubby." Rex mumbled, hiding his head in Cody's shoulder and neck. He felt Cody's shoulders drop as his arms wrapped around him, tightly closing his eyes as he held Rex just as tight. "....I know I'm a mess sometimes, you're always there for me, I never stopped to consider that you were a mess too." Rex sighed, his tears finally stopping. Cody whimpered as he rocked the two of them, eyes shut tight.

"It's okay." Cody forced out in a clear tone, "That's what big brothers are supposed to do," Cody pulled away from the hug, he forced a soft smile as he reached out and wiped away the tears on Rex's face, "I'm supposed to take care of you." He stated. Rex reached out his hand to wipe away Cody's tears, he then smiled,

"Doesn't mean I can't take care of you too"

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

|| Tag List ||

@ct7567329 @a-lil-perspective @mageofcole @advcntura @crying-at-ikea @stuckyjacos @crahsystor @obiorbenkenobi @satan-incarnate-666 @kalm421 @passionofthesith @mackstrut @jonathananubian @kamino-mermaid @hotnthorny @jyvorakal @xdangerouslysoftx @big1ron @blue-haired-grace @rangerslayer-97 @alienoresimagines

For the clone hc thing uhhhh because of the blue shadow virus, Rex's immune system had been compromised leading to him getting sick easier then other clones, but he hates to admit it when it happens so he tries to power through the sickness. It falls to torrent (mostly Kix) to bully him into resting when this happens XD

Protocol 57: Get The Captain To Rest

Summary: Rex’s immune system has never been the same since the Blue Shadow virus. Cue Torrent company holding an intervention.

Pairing: None

Tags: sick rex, caring brothers, torrent company being the best vod, rex is very loved, but also stubborn when he gets sick

Word Count: 922

A/N: This was fun to write! Mando’a translations at the end. Headcanon submitted as part of this post.

|| Masterlist || Tag list ||

Rex gave a disgruntled sniffle as he walked down the halls of the Resolute, shivering lightly even under his full armour. In one hand he held a datapad and a stack of flimsi reports, in the other, a handful of tissues.

Ever since he contracted the Blue Shadow virus the previous year, Rex found he fell sick more often than most of his brothers, and that it hit him harder when he did. But, he was a soldier. He was the Captain of the 501st Legion and he had work to do. He wasn’t about to let a little sickness get in his way. They were at war, for Force sake!

Unfortunately, his vod’ikas had other plans.

----

Jesse was first to spot their ori’vod looking, well, for lack of a better word, osik. If it hadn’t been for the puffy eyes and coughing, the stumbling would have given him away. He tapped a few buttons on his wrist comm, tapping through to Five’s private comm link.

“Fives, we’ve got a protocol 57, spread the word.”

“Damn it, again?”

Fives responded almost immediately with a chuckle, and Jesse could hear shuffling on the other end, then a few beeps and Echo joined them. Before long, the rest of Torrent company was on the comm.

Fives chuckled as he and Echo made a quiet escape from the training room,

“Right, let's have a clean sweep this time, eh vod?”

Dogma laughed,

“Don’t worry, we got this. 34th times a charm, right?”

Tup elbowed him, and Fives continued.

“Echo and I are on point, we’ll run interference at the armoury and push him up to the bridge. Hardcase, you find him and get him to us.”

Jesse rolled his eyes as the rest of his brothers recited their jobs. “I’ll get word down to Kix. Good luck di’kuts.”

Jesse rolled his eyes as the rest of his brothers recited their jobs. “I’ll get word down to Kix. Good luck di’kuts.”

----

Rex was idly rubbing his temples as he headed for the mess hall, too engrossed in his datapad to notice Hardcase approaching him at first. Engrossed may be the wrong word, when really he was just trying to make the words stop moving.

“Captain…” Hardcase jogged to catch up with him. “Sir, are you alright?”

Rex snapped out of it, turning to face the trooper. He cleared his throat, balling his tissues in his palm.

“Hardcase, I’m fine, why do you ask?”

“You're headed for the mess and lunch finished an hour ago.” He nodded to the empty mess hall, beginning to guide him away and down the brightly lit hallway. “Are you sure you’re alright? Echo was looking for you to oversee an inventory in the armoury but I can help him if you’d like. I think Kix is still down in medical if-”

“That won’t be necessary. Thank you, Hardcase.”

The man just shrugged and clasped his hands behind his back. “I have the next training session, I’ll walk with you to the armoury, Sir.”

Rex loved all his vod, really, he did. But he did not have the energy for Hardcase right now. Still, he powered through, nodding his head.

Hardcase did. not. stop. talking. and gesturing energetically the entire time. He saluted the Captain as he stopped outside the armour, where Fives and Echo were conveniently just leaving, standing to attention.

He gave them a wink and left them in the company of their now exhausted Captain.

Rex waved his hand to put the arc troopers at ease, nodding inside the inventory and coughing.

“You needed me to do an inventory?”

Echo shook his head, “It’s alright Sir, Fives assisted me.”

“Are you alright, Captain? We can handle the bridge report this evening, why don’t you turn in early? You must be exhausted-” Fives tried, maybe they’d get lucky.

“I’m quite alright, boys.” Rex said suspiciously. “Why do you all keep asking if I’m alr-”

Rex cut himself off with a rather large sneeze, followed by a coughing fit. Fives grinned, giving Echo a look behind his ori’vod’s back.

“I think Tup was looking for your Sir, you might want to catch him on your way to the bridge, it seemed important.”

Rex suppressed his complaints and rubbed his temple, nodding. “Thanks vod.”

He set off again, and Echo was straight on his comm.

“Dogma, he’s all yours.”

----

On his way to find Tup on the bridge, Rex caught Dogma sprinting at the other side of the hallways, a stack of flimsi in his hand. Rex wasn’t in the mood for this, groaning and rubbing his temples.

“Dogma, what did I say about run-”

“Sorry Sir, I wa- wooooah-”

Dogma skidded to a halt in an attempt to salute his Captain and ‘tripped’, landing on the cold durasteel floor and clutching his ankle.

Rex kneeled beside him, shaking his head with a sigh. “Dank farrik, not again. Come on, let’s get you to Kix.”

Dogma let Rex help him up and limped all the way to the medical bay where Jesse was standing with Kix, grinning.

Kix just rolled his eyes and shooed Dogma away, who promptly stood on his perfectly uninjured feet and joined Jesse at the door.

“What the-”

Kix pointed to the nearest cot. “On the cot, Sir, you look like bantha shit.”

Rex opened his mouth to protest, and was hit with a fit of coughing. Scowling, he resigned himself to his fate and climbed up onto the cot. He shot a look at Jesse and Dogma, standing smugly in the doorway wearing matching smirks.

“Di’kuts.”

Jesse and Dogma just grinned as Hardcase, Fives, Echo and Tup’s heads appeared one by one, sticking around the doorframe.

“We love you too, ori’vod.”

---

Vod’ikas - little brothers

Ori’vod - big brother

Osik - shit

Di’kuts - idiots

Vod - brother

Dank farrick - fuck

Right Hands of the Republic

Summary: Sabé and Rex have the worst jobs in the world.

Pairing: Background Anidala

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: None

Authors Note: It’s finally done! After months of inactivity! Big thanks to @transfetts for helping me edit this one! And a special shout out to @royalhandmaidens for helping me run with this idea, and being an incredible person to bounce off of ❤️

In all honesty, Sabé wasn’t sure if her day could get any worse.

Her life had been threatened before. That was easy to deal with. She had played the seven-string hallikset in front of millions of people. That was also easy, although in a different way. Sabé had fought the Battle for Naboo in the most uncomfortable outfit she’d ever worn, with a headpiece that weighed down her neck and made her look like a child wearing an oversized bonnet.

But standing here. Looking like an idiot next to the stiffest Trooper she had ever met? Today definitely took the cake as the worst day of Sabé’s life.

Sabé had never actually met a Clone Trooper before. Sure they were everywhere on Coruscant, they were practically everywhere in the universe, but Sabé had never actually met one before. The Coruscant guard didn’t really talk much, and she had only ever interacted with them as Padmé, not as Sabé.

But as soon as she saw Anakin and his trooper outside Padmé’s senate chamber, Sabé knew she would be spending some quality time with a Clone.

“General Skywalker,” Padmé started, and even with her hood covering her eyes, Sabé could practically see that dreamy look in Padmé’s gaze. Ugh. “How unexpected.”

Anakin wasn’t supposed to be back for weeks. He had returned from Umbara after a misunderstanding on the battlefield. Rumor had it that the GAR had suffered immense casualties and every available Jedi had been needed to finish the assault. Sabé wasn’t sure what was propaganda and what was the truth yet, but it seemed messy regardless.

And yet here Anakin was anyway. Sauntering through the senate halls as if nothing had happened and he wasn’t keeping the galaxy's biggest secret.

“Well you know how it is,” He says with a smirk, “I bring word from the Frontlines. I was hoping I could give you an update on our progress.”

What he really meant was, “We should both neglect our responsibilities and make out in your office and make Sabé super uncomfortable.” Or at least, that’s how Sabé heard it.

Playing third wheel was bad enough, but playing third wheel to a secret marriage between the dumbest Jedi and her best friend was possibly the worst way to spend an afternoon.

“Ani, you know I-“ Padmé starts, but he interrupts.

“Just a moment of your time senator,” He grabs at her hands gently, holding them near his chest. “Please?”

And Sabé knows then that Padmé is sold.

“Alright,” Padmé sighs, but she’s smiling. A lovesick type of grin that spreads warmly across her face. “Sabé, would you mind waiting here for a moment?”

“As you wish M’lady.” Sabé says. She actually did mind. A lot. But doing things she didn’t want to do was part of the job.

My hands are yours.

“Rex, why don’t you keep Sabé company for a bit? I’ll be right back.” Anakin winked as if to say “I won’t be right back”.

It took all of her Amidala training to hold back the eye roll.

And thus they stood.

And stood.

And stood.

Being a handmaiden meant a lot of standing around and waiting quietly. Standing behind Padmé as she addressed the Senate. Standing behind Queen Amidala as she addressed the senate.

It was a lot of senate and a lot of standing still. Sabé didn’t mind that. She liked listening and observing. What Sabé didn’t like was listening to her best friend fawn over a Jedi while she waited outside with a stranger.

Although the stranger probably didn’t like hanging around with her either.

Captain Rex hadn’t moved once. Hadn’t even addressed her. He stood at attention, armor faded and dented as he gazed silently ahead. He looked like he had seen better days. The paint was chipping off his arm brace and there was ash on his chest plate.

They must have gone straight for the senate building as soon as they had returned.

He was probably just as exhausted as her. And frustrated. Sabé let out a silent sigh. She was being unfair again. Not liking Anakin shouldn’t mean not liking his trooper.

So, Sabé takes a deep breath, without even moving, and tries to apply that “warmth” Yané always tried to teach her.

“So, see any good holovids latey?” Is the only thing she can think to say. Padme was a master at conversation, and although she had spent almost eight years imitating her, that was the one trait Sabé could not crack.

“I don’t have time off to watch Holovids.” His voice is mechanical under his mask, crisp and echoing.

It wasn’t like they were trying to be subtle or anything.

“Oh.” Is all Sabé says before they fall back into an uncomfortable silence. He seems to pity her though, for Captain Rex tries to start up conversation again after a few moments.

“Do you think we’ll be able to leave soon?”

As if it is the will of the Force, suddenly there's laughter coming from Padmé’s chambers.

“No.” Sabé responds.

And suddenly there’s a crash, like a window shattering.

Forgetting her formalities, or her own embarrassment, Sabé instantly turns and slams into the door, forcing it open. The Captain is right behind her, blaster drawn. He almost runs right into her.

Padmé and Anakin are staring out a window. Anakin is leaning out, as if trying to see something. Padmé turns.

“Sabé. It was a reporter. I left my window open.”

Her heart drops.

Reporter. Open window. Secret affair.

Ruin.

Anakin seems much less panicked than Padmé, straightening himself and shutting the blinds. He looks… relieved? But Sabé has no time to untangle the map of his soul right now.

“What did he look like?” She asks firmly. There was little time for her to act, and she couldn’t waste a second.

“Dark hair, silver speeder bike. He was wearing a blue media jacket. Heading down to the lower levels.”

“Understood.” Sabé turns instantly, already planning the best route in her head. He would have had to take-

“Now wait just a minute.” Anakin. A minute is not something we have, Sabé wants to yell, but she keeps silent. “I’m not going to let Sabé go alone. She’ll never be able to catch that guy by herself.”

Yes I could. Sabé thinks. But still she keeps silent.

“Rex. Accompany Sabé. I want both of you back before we ship out.”

“Understood Sir.” The Captain stands at attention before quickly turning to Sabé.

Great. The one thing worse than being slowed down by Anakin, was being slowed down by his right hand. He had no idea how she operated. And he stuck out like-

Well he stuck out just as bad as a velvet robbed handmaiden.

“Whatever you wish, m'lady.” Sabé says, secretly hoping Padmé will side with her and deny Rex. But of course, she doesn’t.

“It would be helpful to have another person come along.” Padmé says instead, “Just hurry.”

Sabé gives a soft bow before turning on her heel and racing out of the room, the sound of clanking armor following her the whole way.

The Naboo garage was filled with glimmering starships and speeders. Sabé’s personal speeder was not counted among them.

“I’m driving,” Sabé says as she turns on the machine. “You can sit behind me.”

“Right.” He clearly didn’t like handing off leadership, but it seemed he was wise enough to take the metaphorical and literal backseat when he had to. The engine of her speeder roars to life as Sabé settles in the front with Rex quickly following suit.

“You’ll be able to see better than me if you use your scanner to try and spot him,” Sabé yells over the engine.

Her hair was wiping wildly now, flying loose from her hood and into her eyeline. What she would give for a hairpin.

“He’s probably klicks away by now.” Rex says, and Sabé hears the mechanical clinking of his rangefinder shifting into place as he scans the city.

“That’s why I asked you to use your bucket, genius.” Sabé says before pulling into the busy skylanes.

Sabé didn’t like Coruscant. It was too busy, with too many people and too much pollution. And the Underworld was the worst part. Between the smell of burning fuel, the rattling metal and the horrid smell of endless garbage disposals, everything about it made her skin crawl.

But whatever Padmé asked, Sabé would follow through.

“You seem to know your way around.” Rex says.

“I make it my business to know.” She replies. Just because Padmé wanted Anakin’s clone to tag around did not mean Sabé had to like it.

“Right.”

They fall into the motion of the city. With the wind tugging her hair loose and ringing in her ears, Sabé almost misses Rex’s shout.

“I found him! There!” He points over to her left. The reporter in question is six lanes over, blue jacket whipping wildly in the wind. Camera strap around his neck.

“Hang on!” She yells, before pulling a completely illegal six lane change.

Pulling up as close as she can, Sabé tries to settle herself even with the reporter, bikes side by side.

“Pull over and give me that camera!” Sabé yells, and the reporter turns to her with a wild look.

“On whose authority?” The reporter yells back.

“The Grand Army of the Republic.” Rex doesn’t yell, but the speakers in his helmet amplify his voice enough to be heard over. Sabé wasn’t exactly sure they were officially acting on behalf of the GAR, but it seemed to scare the reporter enough to give him pause.

“You’re in possession of private property!”

“I’m in possession of the story of the century!”

“Like hell you are!” Sabé screams.

He was drifting dangerously close now, his bike almost brushing hers. Normally, the auto navigation system would prevent them from getting this close to another vehicle, but Sabé had rewired it months ago in favor of more subtle routes.

He’s still yelling at her about “stories of the age” and “secret affairs” as she reaches out with her right hand and tries to grab his camera. He pulls back, but he could only move so much with both hands on the handle.

Almost-

And suddenly Sabé’s right hand slips off the steering.

And everything moves in slow motion.

Sabé’s bike tilts left, falling straight into the reporter’s. There’s a crunch from her bike, and the engine spits fire and sparks. The speeders are locked together now, her pedals caught in his.

The reporter has this terrified look on his face, and Sabé seizes that split second and rips the camera off the chain around his neck.

And then her bike falls.

And she falls.

And Rex falls right after her.

In the back of her mind, Sabé vaguely hears Rex yelling something along the lines of, “not again” but all she was really processing, was that she was falling to her death.

But instead of dying, Sabé finds her fall cut short as she crashes into a large speeder hood.

The group inside gasps in horror, and reaching as fast as she can, Sabé tries to grasp at the driver's hand, or the windshield or anything, but within an instant, she slips right off. Her sleeve catches on the side of the vehicle and tears in half as she falls again.

And lands directly onto another speeder.

This one is smaller, and buckles under her weight. Dripping off the skylane. The driver lets out a scream, and shakes her bike.

“I won’t be robbed by some crazy lunatic!” She cries.

“I’m not trying to rob you!” Sabé yells over the commotion.

“Liar!” The driver screams, and keeps shaking her bike. Sabé’s grip slips, and she can feel herself falling.

“Stop, stop! I just want to get down!” She manages. But the driver won’t hear it, and gives the bike one hard shake.

And Sabé is falling again, but the fall is quick, as she lands straight into a dumpster.

Despite the gross cushioning, Sabé hits the bottom of the bin with a sick crack, and instantly knows she won’t be sleeping on her left side for a while.

Ow.

Against the will of her body, Sabé pushes herself up and stands. She had to find that reporter, and she had to get out of that terrible, terrible smell.

Climbing over the edge of the bin shouldn’t have been hard, normally Sabé could have scaled a wall in seconds. But her vision was slightly blurred, and not being able to use her left shoulder was a hindrance. Standing on trash bags, Sabé boosts herself over the edge and stumbles out and onto the alley floor.

Her dress is in shambles. The left sleeve had ripped clean off, as had her hood. The once perfect ombré is now stained with mysterious green and brown liquid from the dumpster. Not to mention the pieces of trash that got stuck to the velvet.

Sabé knows her hair is flying free now and dreads the thought of her reflection. If her grease stained and scratched hands are any indication, she isn’t pretty.

Rex is laying on the ground a few feet away, trying to push himself off his stomach. His pauldron has a crack down the middle and several small pieces of his armor are missing. And so is his helmet.

Rex has a thin cut across his face, spanning from his left eyebrow to his chin.

He looks.

Really young.

Younger than she had expected.

It was probably foolish of her to assume he was older than her, Sabé knew most clones were only around ten, with accelerated growth. But she had always assumed he would look like her father or something. All grey and set lines. But Rex appeared no older than Sabé herself. Sure he had a giant cut across his face right now, but she could see past that.

He looks like a kid. Well, teenager. Well. He looked her age. But still. Young.

Too young.

Sabé supposes to most people he would seem handsome. Maybe in a boyish way, that would make the school girls on Naboo giggle, but to Sabé he just looks like-

Like a boy, covered in dirt, who really didn’t want to be here.

“Did you see where the reporter fell?” Sabé asks. Her voice cracks as she speaks, and she can feel an invisible weight sitting on her lungs. Her left rib is definitely cracked.

“No.” He groans. Without his helmet, Rex’s voice was drastically different. “But he can’t have gotten far.”

Sabé studies around them, Rex was right, the reporter couldn’t have fallen that much farther than they had, their bikes were practically locked together-

There.

Crawling off a trash heap, the reporter looks just as stunned as Sabé feels. Although she hoped she was holding it together better.

“Stop!” She shouts.

Sabé groans, and despite her aching limbs, she runs after him. He’s not fast, but in her current condition, neither is she.

Stumbling loosely, Sabé runs until they’re side by side. She doesn’t have enough energy to even yell at this point, so instead she reaches out for the camera and almost-

Suddenly Sabé feels a sharp tug on her hem, and she’s janked backwards, stumbling into Rex. He yelps, and they both tumble onto the pavement.

“I had him!” Sabé says sharply, pushing Rex aside. Red flames tug at her vision.

She just wants to go home. This was stupid, and she had better things to do. And why would Padmé make her run around with some knockoff Anakin-

“I’m sorry.” Rex says. “I guess I’m not quite used to your fighting techniques. I should have been paying closer attention.”

“Oh.”

Maker, she was an idiot.

Rex isn’t Anakin, and this wasn’t his fault. She is a spy and he is a soldier. And while she was playing lone wolf, he was trying to offer support, and she had ignored him.

Maker.

“No I-“ Sabé pauses, and looks at him. “That was my fault.” She can’t find any other words, and mercifully, Rex seems to accept her half apology and changes the subject.

“Fighting General Grievous was easier than this.” He mumbles under his breath.

“You’ve fought General Grievous?” Sabé says.

“Yeah, and it hurt less.”

They both pause. They had crossed a bridge. Both of them serve as the right hands of the ridiculous people they love but can’t see past the end of their noses.

And they’re both exhausted.

He laughs then. It’s an overtired laugh interrupted by a harsh cough, but it’s a laugh. And it makes Sabé laugh too.

In the dim streetlights, Sabé lets herself breathe. And relax.

“This is ridiculous!” She says suddenly, muffled between coughing giggles. “We look ridiculous, and this mission is ridiculous and our friends are ridiculous.”

With a huffed laugh, Rex forces himself to stand, and offers Sabé his hand.

“Let’s get him this time.”

As it turns out, they don’t have to look far. Less than two klicks away, the reporter stands over a garbage can, vomiting. Camera held limply around his neck.

“Surrender your camera, or face the consequences.” Rex says, standing over the reporter as he hurls. He sounds so serious, Sabé tries not to laugh.

“Just take it.” The man mumbles. “Dear maker, just take the kriffing camera.” Reaching around his neck, the reporter unclips his camera and holds it out limply.

Sabé reaches forward and rips it from his hands, cradling it to her chest.

“Thank you for your service, citizen.” Rex finishes, nodding his head politely.

“Whatever.” The man mumbles, “Just leave me alone.”

“All this for a holo.” Rex says. He’s got a playful tone, despite his knee guard missing and all the pieces of trash in his hair.

But Sabé ignores his quip, and wanders to a more secluded part of the alley. She scrolls through the memory files, passing moments and memories and gossip and-

There.

They look ridiculous. Sabé thinks, but she knows that’s not true.

They look happy. Even through the lens, their warmth is captured.

Padmé’s warmth.

The way she looks at Anakin is so warm.

So loving.

Sabé lingers for a moment, holding the camera gently between her hands. Staring.

“My hands are yours.”

Then with all the power she can manage, Sabé throws the camera down and smashes it against the pavement.

Sparks fly and bits of metal shatter this way and that, kicking up dirt and muck. The flickering metal almost looks poetic.

Almost.

Rex is silent for a moment, staring at the unceremonial end, and Sabé can’t seem to find her voice.

Something in her chest ached. It’s probably a displaced rib, Sabé reasons, but she knows that isn’t really it.

Thankfully, Rex seems to know how to defuse uncomfortable situations.

“We should call someone to pick us up.” He huffs, gaze pointed at the endless levels above them. “I’m not walking back.” Sabé almost laughs.

“Can we eat first?” She asks instead, trying to swallow the strange tears caught in her throat, and rolling her aching shoulder.

“Yeah I could eat.”

“Do you have any money?”

“Nope.” He says with a grin, offering her his arm like they were leaving a charity ball and not crawling out of a dumpster.

That makes Sabé laugh. But she links her arm into his anyway and punches him in the shoulder, ignoring the way he winces.

“Fine. We’ll just charge Senator Amidala’s card.”

“You have access to the Senators bank?”

“Sometimes I AM the senator Rex.”

“Right. Sometimes I forget that.”

Sabé laughs.

“That’s the whole point, dummy.”

The diner they find looks almost as disgusting as they do.

Filled with flickering lights, unkempt floors, and more than a few blaster marks, the establishment doesn’t even react when a beaten up clone trooper and a crazy girl in half a dress show up and ask for a table.

The corner booth smells a bit like garbage, but Sabé reasons she also smells like garbage, so in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t a big deal. At least she could eat.

“Their wedding kinda sucked.” Sabé says, voice slightly muffled in between bites of her sandwich.

“I’ve never been to a wedding.” Rex responds, taking another bite of his cushnip. He had a weird taste for someone whose main diet consisted of ration bars.

“They suck. Never let your best friend talk you into attending one.”

“Noted.”

“It was just me, and two droids.” Sabé swallows, “Have you ever had to make conversation with two droids at a secret wedding?”

“I’ve had to make conversation with undead Genioshians.” He tries, pointing his fork at her.

“That’s not the same.”

It’s silent for a moment, Rex still pointing at her, and then they both burst into laughter.

Uncontrollable, over tired laughter. Sabé only stops when her arching chest can’t take it anymore.

“Why are you blonde?” She interrupts suddenly. “I thought all clones were Jango Fett, well, clones.”

“What?” He breathes, coughing at the end, and staring at her in disbelief. “I help you chase a reporter 30 levels, and all you want to ask is ‘why are you blonde?’ That’s the best you can do?”

Sabé tries to laugh again, but her chest hurts so much she stops herself.

“Do I really look that awful?” Rex reaches up and pulls another piece of trash from his blacks.

“Yes.” Sabé says with a smile, “You look ridiculous without your bucket.”

Rex rolls his eyes, pointing at her again.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know.”

Something catches his eye, and Rex glances out the diner window.

“There’s our ride.”

Outside, a Republic landspeeder settles into the parking lot recklessly. There’s an ARC trooper in the driver's seat, white armor painted the same blue as Rex. A member of his battalion no doubt.

Quickly rising, Sabé settles the bill, and follows Rex towards the trooper.

She wants to get out of this hole as quickly as possible. And shower. Twice.

“What happened to you?” The ARC trooper asks, and Sabé can’t tell if his tone is genuine concern or teasing.

Or perhaps both.

“Not now.” Rex mumbles, as he brushes past the trooper and practically falls into the back seat of the landspeeder.

“Hi.” The trooper turns to her now, and even through the helmet's voice altering, Sabé can hear his tone dripping with charisma. She gives a half laugh, but it sounds more like a wheeze.

“Hi.” She responds, “I’m Sabé.”

“I’m Fives.” He replies, “Hang out in the underworld often?”

“Can it, Trooper.” Rex yells from the landspeeder. His head is leaned against the seat, and his brow is furrowed, as if this happens all the time. “Just get us back to base.”

“Yes Captain.” Fives says with a loose salute, but he nods at Sabé, and she swears he winks under his helmet.

Carefully maneuvering around her bruises, Sabé settles into the backseat beside Rex.

“You know.” Sabé starts, “If I’m going to be a third wheel more often, I wouldn’t mind serving with you Captain.”

“It’s been an honor Sabé,” Rex says, and then pauses, “but in all honesty I could never do this again and be just fine.”

Sabés cracked rib hurts too much to laugh.

Rex, Pint-Sized Battlemaster

(Ben and Luke, Ahsoka, Rex, and Leia, Chrono)

Intensely on my mind right now: Rex’s weird role as just That Mando Kid Wandering The Temple in the Uncle Ben and Little Luke verse

He walks in on padawan strategy classes, looking all of ten or twelve years old, and just sits in the back. He waits. He audits. When someone complains about how they don’t need battlefield strategy classes, that they’re Jedi and there hasn’t been a war in so long, when the teacher is just exhaustedly explaining for the fifth time that Jedi are regularly called in to warzones, to negotiate ceasefires or extract Senate representatives, when the teacher tries to impress upon their students that reading a battlefield is important even if you don’t expect to lead a battle…

Rex just sets a dejarik board in front of the padawan, who’s twice his size and can tell that Rex is about as force-sensitive as a barely-more-than-null brick, and says, “If you can beat me, you can claim that you’re good enough at reading a battlefield to skip this class. If you can’t, you’re sticking around. Understand?”

The teacher didn’t agree to this ahead of time, but has seen Rex pull this on other people, including experienced knights and masters, and just. Gestures for them to go ahead. Fuck it! The weird Mando kid is capable of outmaneuvering highly-ranked masters, Force or no! Clearly he knows his shit!

Rex, seasoned battle commander that he is, with literal decades of training and experience, wins easily. The padawan is very upset. Rex doesn’t care, because in his mind, the padawan’s behavior was going to get brothers from Kamino killed fifteen years down the line.

And he just keeps on doing that, to the point where all the masters who run those kinds of classes on war and strategy and tactics just reach out to Ben like “Hey… is this kid legit or just hyperfocused on the subject or–” “He grew up in a military cult.” “…” “For reasons I cannot disclose, yes, he’s legitimately more experienced in this field than most field-ready Jedi masters. Just be glad the military cult in question wasn’t Kyr’tsad, honestly.”

Hmm how about speechless and Rex??

Speechless: Rex can't speak because of a sore throat.

“You’re definitely sick,” Kix remarked.

Rex glared at Kix. Really? He was sick? He had no idea, other than his crusty eyes and sniffly nose and the open sores at the back of his throat that felt like tiny daggers when he swallowed, nevermind spoke.

“I’d like to keep you in the medbay, for the next day or two. At least until you can speak again.” Rex crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. He knew Kix; he would never phrase it optionally unless it was optional. So Rex would be breaking no regulations by walking out of the medby right now.

Which he fully intended on doing, as he got up and headed for the door.

“Captain!” Kix caught him by the arm. “You can barely swallow, which means eating and  drinking, both of which you need to do to get well, are going to be problematic. If you stay here, and rest, I can get you an IV and you’ll get better faster.”

Rex shook his head. As always, there was too much to be done. Better to work at partial efficiency for a while than zero percent efficiency. At least to make Kix feel better (and not because he was desperately thirsty) he took the cup of ice chips Kix had brought out earlier. The cold would be good for his throat.

*****

Kix watched with a scowl as Rex walked out. How was Rex even going to communicate with anyone?

Right, Rex did know some hand signs from his arc training. But the only people who could translate for him were other ARC’s…

Kix chuckled. The things he did to keep his patients in the medbay.

*****

Rex looked for Echo or Fives to help him “talk” to others. Try as he might, he couldn’t find Echo anywhere, but Fives was in the barracks, chatting with Hardcase about detonator yield.

Fives, with me he signed to the ARC.

Fives tilted his head. “Tooka got your tongue, Captain?”

Rex could almost swear he was hiding a smile. How many people knew he was sick already?

Rex motioned again, and walked back out.

Fives kicked Hardcase in farewell. “See yah later, ‘Case. Maybe we can go beyond theoretical and test some of your theories out.” Hardcase drummed on his legs in excitement.

*****

Those munitions storage, those food storage, Rex signed. A large shipment of new supplies had just come in, and needed to be inventoried and put away. Rex put himself in charge of directions, with Fives standing by.

Fives nodded. “Alright, those need to go to munitions, and those go to the food stores,” Fives said- switching the supplies.

Rex shook his head, and repeated himself.

“Ah, sorry Captain. Men, those go to munitions, and those go to food.”

More daggers in his throat as he swallowed some ice. Rex must have made a face, because Fives knocked his own vambrace against his. “You good there Captain?”

Rex nodded and shoved more ice in his mouth.

Thirty cases of the next bunch.

Fives turned to those offloading. “Woah men, too many! We need three, not thirty.”

Rex smacked Fives. Thirty, he signed again, making each motion sharp with his annoyance. Fives did learn ARC signals, right?

“Right right, thirty it is. Sorry brothers.”

Those are for the Commander.

“Bring these to General Skywalker’s room.”

Rex checked the registry and paled, before wildly waving his hands. He did not want to explain how a box full of female sanitation products ended up with the General.

T-A-N-O, he signed, letter by letter.

Fives laughed. “Oh, the Commander? Why didn’t you say so?”

Rex glared at Fives, before marching off to find Echo.

*****

Rex searched everywhere, but couldn’t find Echo. He even commed the Domino, but Echo was unusually silent.

Finally, Rex realized there was one place he hadn’t checked yet.

Echo was indeed in the medbay, helping Kix prep an empty bed with an IV drip and a cup of ice chips.

“Captain!” Kix said, all to cheerful. “Glad you could make it.”

You. Rex pointed at Kix. You did this.

“I don’t think the Captain’s too happy,” Echo remarked innocently. “He thinks you did something.”

“What? Captain, I never would do such a thing as telling Fives to forget his ARC signs for a day, and telling Echo to come here so he can help me prep your bed. Now, I suggest you take off your armor if you want to recover a semblance of comfort.”

Rex scowled at Kix, then accepted defeat by sitting on the bed and slowly stripping off his armor.

Once he was solely in his blacks, Kix pulled Rex’s sleeve up and stuck an IV in the crook of his elbow. “There. Hydration, nutrition, and even a small dose of painkillers because I’m so nice.”

Rex sighed, and gave Kix a thumbs up before sinking into the pillows.

Before Echo could leave, Rex gave him a couple signs, and Echo laughed.

“What did he say,” Kix said, curious.

“Oh I couldn’t repeat it. But the gist of it is, Fives better run when Rex is better.”

For the prompts, if you're still doing those, maybe 39 with Rex?

I don't really ship him with anyone but maybe in a platonic way how Ahsoka, Anakin and Obi-wan have made him feel loved over the years <3

Ahhh you’ve got me twice! I’ve never actually written anything with Rex as the main subject, and I tend to avoid writing Ahsoka (I blame Dave, like I do with many things). As such, I’m sorry if you don’t agree with some of the frustration that has weaved its way through this entire thing. However, it was a lot of fun to try something out of my comfort zone. Don’t ask me why I’ve decided that Rex is the kind of person who wants to scream when he’s unhappy--I just feel like this man is holding it in during the entire war. Disclaimer that I actually have no idea what happened on Melida-Daan.

Prompt list

Previously completed numbers: 9, 10, 45

Please send a prompt! Something from the list, another idea, a song, anything!

Prompt 39:  Things you said when I was crying

Summary: Three times when Rex needed comfort, and three people who tried to provide it.

Rex unclips his kama, tossing it to the ground, before tugging at his pauldron. It doesn’t budge, and he grits his teeth, clawing at the clasp. After much too long, and Rex is about to scream, he finally gets it off, placing it down with deliberately petty gentleness, even though he wants nothing more than to hurl it at a tree. The pressure in his chest expands, like a seismic charge detonating, and he sobs, sinking to the mossy forest floor as the tears finally fall.

The difference between the forest and the images flashing through his mind is almost comical. Eyes open, it’s lush trees and blue skies, tiny flowers and tangled, twisting mushrooms, but when he blinks, it’s barren, grey fields and smoke that smothers him, blood and screams and Cody’s too-steady voice over the comms.

He buries his head in his hands, curled up against the trunk of an ancient tree. A bird trills above his head, light and lovely, but all Rex can hear is Cae, voice strained as Rex lifts his head, saying, I’m sorry I’m sorry I knew it would be me, blood seeping endlessly from the place where his legs had been.

Rex understands what Cody had once told him, about telling someone that they will be okay, everything will be okay, over and over, even though you both know it’s a lie.

“It’s a comfort, even if you know the truth,” Cody had said, in the dark of the planning room, blank face lit up in blue. “It’s easier to lie, in the moment, than to say goodbye.”

He hadn’t explained where he’d experienced it, but Rex had already heard of Wril, who’d injured his spine during a training mission, back on Kamino, and been ripped away by the Kaminoans, because some injuries cost more than a clone was worth. He’d always remembered it, that only he and his brothers would ever care about him, but he’d brushed aside Cody’s words, meaningless advice back then.

Now though, he knows it is true, has chanted the words to Cae as he bled out. And now he also understands the sorrow lingering in Cody’s eyes, the memories of a batchmate torn out of his grasp.

He lifts his head, gasping for air, and his eyes fall on his hands, blood smeared across his skin like ink. Shaking, breath catching, he scrubs his hands on the moss, desperate to lift the stains. It’s on his face, he realizes, rubbing wildly at it with the back of his hand. His forehead, his brow, all across his cheeks--

A branch snaps a few metres away, and Rex’s head shoots up. He scrambles for his blaster, searching the forest for a search party of droids, or a prowling nexu, teeth bared before it pounces.

A figure walks out of the undergrowth, hands raised. It’s General Kenobi, and Force, Rex looks a complete mess, armour scattered across the ground, face probably red and swollen with tears--

“I apologize for startling you. Rex, is it?” Kenobi draws closer, and how the kriff is he so clean? He looks as if there hadn’t been a battle at all, not a hair out of place, even though Rex had seen him, whirling through the fight with Skywalker at his side, like one of the tsunamis that plagued Tipoca City. Kenobi motions at the ground, a silent request to sit, and Rex nods, somewhat too vigorously.

When Kenobi is seated, Rex notices little details that he hadn’t spotted, the fraying sleeves of his robes, the pink stain on his thigh that is definitely blood, the slightly too bright edge to his eyes.

Kenobi looks at him, gaze searching, before he rips at the hem of his tunic, passing the rough fabric without a word.

Rex rubs at his hands, too embarrassed to address the mess on his face, but Kenobi rolls his eyes lightly, taking the cloth and spitting on it, before reaching over and rubbing it over Rex’s forehead, hard enough to work, but gently all the same. It’s a bizarre experience, but it takes Rex back to Kamino, when Wolffe had done the same, after Rex had cut his head open on a rock and the blood had dried along his temple. It’s comforting, to remember a moment of care, when he is receiving it once more.

“I was in a civil war as a child, on this little planet in the Outer Rim,” Kenobi says quietly. “I’d never actually been in war before, despite how much we’d studied it. And it was like a game at first, planning strategies and sharing dreams of what we’d do when we won. But then our base was bombed.

“There had been hundreds of us, all children or teens. But between one minute and the next, we were practically massacred.”

Rex frowns. “You were on Melida-Daan?”

Kenobi chuckles. “Sometimes I forget that you’d have been taught about events like that. Yes, it was Melida-Daan.” He grows somber, leaning forward. “The point is, I get it. There’s something about having them die in your arms. It changes you.”

Rex blinks, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. But tears come anyways, building and building until he is sobbing once more. He tries to apologize between tears, but Kenobi waves him away, placing a hand on his shoulder. Rex shudders as a wave of peace rolls through him, grounding him to the present, and preventing his grief from spiraling into panic. He’d known, vaguely, about the abilities of Jedi, but the proof of it is startling, used in such a kind and simple way.

“There’s no need to be sorry, I’m the one who brought it back up. I’d like to help you, if I can. Would you tell me about him? I understand you were batchmates.”

Rex hiccups, nodding. “He—we were. Cae is--was quiet, compared to me. Whenever I wanted to act without thinking, he was always there to calm me down, and to remind me about all the problems with diving in head first. He never really liked fighting, but we made a damn good team. When we found out we were both in Cody’s battalion, we were so excited. They—they usually split batches up completely. I think it was Cody’s doing, keeping us together.” Rex stops, eyes widening.

Kenobi laughs, “Don’t worry, nobody’s going to get in trouble with me. I’m glad that you weren’t alone.”

Rex cuts his gaze away. “Thank you, sir. If I may, why did you come out here?”

Kenobi smiles. “Cody’s worried about you. He wanted to come, but he had to speak with the Council. I said I’d find you.”

“He had to speak to the Council? Without you?”

“You underestimate your brother, my friend. I couldn’t fight this war without him. Besides, I wanted to meet the ARC trooper whom my Commander speaks of with such fondness.”

Kenobi stands, holding out a hand to help Rex up. Rex wonders when Cody grew so close to the Jedi, and how he’d grown to trust him so quickly. From what he’s seen, though, Kenobi might deserve it.

…

Rex’s quarters are barren, when he punches in the new code he’d been given, and steps inside. They look almost as they had when he’d first seen them, bags in hand, Anakin peering over his shoulder. It had been almost exciting then, a new home and a new title, a Captain for the freshly Knighted General Skywalker, but it is not exciting now. The sight of the closest thing he has to a home, stripped bare and left to grow dusty, is almost too much to handle. He drops his helmet to the floor, an act that would make most of his brothers gasp, and moves farther inside.

He’s not quite sure where his things are, or why they were taken. The entire operation on Zygerria had been a mess, a patchwork plan that had quickly dissolved into chaos. It’s not too surprising that they’d cleared his room out, when he and Obi-Wan had gone radio silent. There’s no time for sentimentality, in this war, and if his brothers hadn’t sorted through his things, some natborn officer would have.

Anakin would probably disagree with his flippancy, with how unwilling he was to complete the mission at their expense. Rex wonders, sometimes, how his General can be so good at war, and yet not understand it at all.

He can’t really move his head completely, neck muscles still seized up from the shock collar, so he turns in a circle to take in the entire room. Then, he sinks onto the bed, wincing at the way it stretches the wounds on his back, and takes a deep breath, relishing the way it makes his chest ache.

The silence is deafening, overwhelming, and Rex buries his face in his hands, covering his ears and pressing down until they ring. A lump forms in his throat, days of swallowed words clawing their way back up, and the first tears fall. They’re tears of relief, of safety after giving up any hope for rescue, of returning to the Resolute and to his men, but they’re also tears of long, drawn out hopelessness, of resignation and fear, of watching the confidence fade from Obi-Wan’s eyes, of throwing an electrostaff and hoping that it hurts when it finds its mark.

A sob breaks the silence, almost detached from himself, followed by another and another, until he is gasping for air, mind flashing with images of those electro-whips, of furnaces that burned, of little Togrutas curled up together, looking so much like Ahsoka, back when she was little--

The knock on his door is soft, hesitant, but Rex startles, straightening and desperately scrubbing at his face.

“Rex?” Anakin’s voice is softer than usual, almost meek. “Are you alright?”

Rex doesn’t have a chance to respond, to ask for a minute, before the door slides open.

He feels like a bantha in speederlights, when his eyes meet Anakin’s, and he nearly wants to laugh to see his own expression reflected back to him.

“Rex?” Anakin asks uncertainly, as if he’s not looking right at him. Rex nods, confused, and Anakin steps inside.

He cuts his gaze away as Anakin picks up his helmet, cradling it as he sits down next to Rex.

Anakin is tapping his leg up and down, fingers drumming random patterns onto his knee, and Rex wants to yell, wants to stand up and walk out, wants to get into the shower and feel the burning water on his back and sink to the floor and stop feeling those curious, tentative tendrils as Anakin pokes around his mind in that unintentional way of his.

The silence is tense for what feels like forever, before Anakin finally speaks, “When I lived on Tatooine, water meant something very different than it does everywhere else. Here, people say it’s cleansing, this great flood that washes away dirt and blood until everything is new again. But on Tatooine, water is rare. It meant survival, death and life. Water was a symbol of love, of giving something precious. It was used during weddings, the sharing of a glass, to show their desire to live and die for one another.” He chuckles, “There wasn’t much grey area on Tatooine.” He grows more solemn. “My mother used to say that water is healing, and that love is wishing to take someone’s pain from them. She did it for me, and I’d do it for you, if I could.”

Rex is well aware of how precious this story is, with how little Anakin discusses his childhood, and with the shadows that darkened his eyes the one time Obi-Wan had mentioned his mother. He looks over, wiping his eyes, and says, “I’m grateful, sir.” He accepts Anakin’s words, although he wants to say You can’t take my pain, or Obi-Wan’s. You can’t protect us from our duty, and we don’t want you to. All you can do is be there afterwards. But he’s tired, and he wouldn’t want to make Anakin close up again, after he’d shared a piece of himself, so instead he says, “I don’t know if water is healing, but I do hope it’s cleansing. I’m going to take a shower, if that’s alright.”

Anakin stands swiftly, Rex’s helmet held awkwardly in his hands. “Of course, Rex, I’m sorry for keeping you.”

It feels like there’s a stone in Rex’s stomach, like this conversation has turned into a series of miscommunications. “You didn’t, sir.” He’s not quite sure why he’s comforting Anakin now. “Is General Kenobi alright?”

Anakin looks away, down at Rex’s visor instead. “He’s in the medbay. Cody’s with him. I wanted to find you.”

Rex realizes that Anakin wishes to help, but doesn’t know how to say it. He racks his brain for what to do. “Sir, do you think you could help me get the chestplate off? I can’t reach the clasp.” He hasn’t actually tried to, but he imagines it would pull his muscles quite angrily. Zygerrian armour is way too complicated.

Anakin lights up. “Yes, I can get it!”

Rex hides a smile as Anakin searches for the snap, muttering about bad design and poor protection. When it’s off, fallen to the ground, Rex turns, “I can handle the rest, but I’ll need some help bandaging my back when I’m done showing, if you can?”

Anakin nods energetically. “Yes, of course!” He looks as if he’s going to offer to help Rex with the shower, so Rex cuts in immediately, “Also, do you think you could take a look at my HUD while you wait? The night-vision lens has been acting up.”

Agreeing happily, Anakin sets off to work. Rex feels a bit better, as he heads into the ‘fresher. He guesses it’s alright to accept help from Anakin, since it’s so obviously beneficial to them both.

…

Jesse’s face is bloody, but his expression is almost peaceful. It would almost look like he was sleeping after a battle, having passed over taking a shower like he always did, a stupid habit of his that drove Rex mad. It’s not a troubling sight, really, except for how pale his skin is, and for the steel shaft that gapes from his stomach.

“I should never have left.” Ahsoka lowers herself to kneel beside him.

Rex doesn’t look up, doesn’t respond, instead wiping his hand across Jesse’s helmet, against the Galactic Roundel, the symbol of a Republic that seems to have failed them from the very beginning.

“Oh, Jesse,” she breathes, reaching out a hand to wipe the blood from his head.

“Please don’t,” Rex says, sharper than he meant to. Ahsoka draws her hand back, brow furrowed.

Rex keeps his gaze down. “You can help me with the others, but I’d like to carry him by myself, please.”

“Of course.” Ahsoka stands, but hesitates. “I’m sorry, Rex.”

Rex clears his throat, but his voice is still gruff. “It’s not your fault. Obviously this was far beyond all of us.”

“Maybe, but that’s not what I mean. I shouldn’t have left you. If I’d been here--”

“You wouldn’t have fixed it!” Rex interrupts, looking up at Ahsoka. “The Council was tricked. Anakin, Mace, Yoda, they all believed the Chancellor, because why shouldn’t they. Nothing happened that wasn’t given a perfectly normal explanation. Fives was scared out of his kriffing mind, but it just sounded like he’d lost it.”

“Still, if I’d stayed...I was scared, and I didn’t know what I was fighting for anymore, but everything was falling apart, and I left all of you to try and keep it together without me.”

Rex doesn’t say anything, but he remembers when Anakin had told him Ahsoka was gone, jaw clenched and face closed off, and when Rex had sat in his room afterwards and wondered why he hadn’t mattered at all, wondered how Ahsoka could have left her men without a second thought. But he’d been so happy when she was returning, in hindsight so much like a massiff waiting for its owner, and they’d all painted their helmets for her--

He understands why she left, when he brushes aside all the hurt, but in the end, he had never gotten the same choice. None of the clones had.

Angry tears begin to fall, as he looks down at Jesse again, and he clenches his jaw to stop himself from screaming. “We should have killed them,” he chokes. “They all died anyways, why the kriff wouldn’t we just shoot them?”

Ahsoka falls to her knees, hard, ash rising in a cloud. “I’ve made so many mistakes, Rex, but none bigger than that. I was just so tired of having to make the tough calls. I told myself that I was saving them, but I was only saving myself.”

Rex sobs, pressing his forehead to Jesse’s chest. “I should have killed him. Who was I to act like some kriffing hero, taking the kriffing high road? I’m a soldier, I lead these men, they depend on me to make sure they die for the right reason.”

He feels a pressure on his back, but no presence in his mind, like he would have with Obi-Wan or Anakin. Ahsoka lets him have his grief and his loneliness, but she embraces him tightly when he turns to her. He’s grateful for that, though he’d give anything to know that Anakin is alright, or to hear Obi-Wan’s calm, steady voice. She says nothing as he cries, as he wipes his tears, as he carries Jesse to the hole he’s dug, but she is there, bound to him through their shared mistakes, and that means something, even if nothing else does anymore.

Hnnnng I told myself I'd restrain myself, bit I can't XD Can you do Oh No or Double Trouble for Rex XD I know those were in my ehhh 'list' XD

Thanks for the prompt! This is the last of these I’ll be doing, so please don’t send any more requests in! I got way more than I expected to get, which isn’t a bad thing at all and I’m super grateful for (and surprised by) all the requests I got, but now my brain is like “why are you doing this to me.” Thank y’all!

Double trouble— character is sick and injured

Rex hadn’t meant to let the cut on his arm go untreated for as long as he did. It was difficult to get things treated in the midst of endless battle after endless battle, and Rex hadn’t had time to go to any of the medics to get it looked at. It was a pretty long gash, but not very deep, so Rex figured it would probably be fine.

He didn’t really like the way that it was getting red around the edges and was hot to the touch, though. That didn’t really bode well, but it probably was fine for a little while longer. He’d get it looked at after this next battle. Ignoring the way his arm twinged with every movement and the waves of nausea that coursed through him with every step, he continued on with his duties and led the men from the very front as he always did, General Skywalker by his side.

Getting slammed against a wall and then falling off a short ledge in the midst of battle certainly hadn’t been in his plans for the battle, but it happened nonetheless. He heard someone yelling his name and jumping down into the small crevice he’d found himself in, but he was too busy blinking back stars and ignoring the way his arm was screaming at him to pay attention to who it was. Now his head hurt a lot, and he realized that his helmet had gotten knocked off at some point during that whole ordeal. Opening his eyes ever so slightly, he found himself looking up at Anakin’s worried face.

“Go back to the men, sir, I’ll be fine,” Rex managed. His stomach decided then was the time to do some flips, and he barely managed to roll over in time to throw up. His arm screamed in protest, and one of his ankles felt like it was twisted, if not worse, and he was somehow both cold and hot at once, but he’d be fine.

“Sith hells, Rex, you’re in rough shape,” Anakin said, obviously ignoring the fact that Rex had told him to leave.

“Sir, the men—“ Rex began as he rolled back over onto his back (with a little help from Anakin, although he didn’t really register that fact).

“Will be fine with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka in the lead. I’ll help take you back to camp and to the medics, and help them with anyone who got injured along the way, okay? There’s no way you’ll ever make it there on your own,” Anakin said, holding out a hand for Rex to take. Rex begrudgingly took it, but realized a moment too late that it was the wrong arm. He bit back a scream when Anakin pulled him up, causing Anakin to look at him in concern.

“What all’s hurt?” Anakin asked, using the force to call Rex’s helmet to him.

“Ankle, arm, head, nausea,” Rex muttered, “Not all of that’s new.” Anakin lifted an eyebrow at him but didn’t comment on anything, instead using his real hand to feel Rex’s forehead.

“And you’ve got a fever, Rex!” Anakin exclaimed, “Yeah, no way are you going back to that battle.”

Rex merely grunted in response. Anakin warned him that they were about to jump out of the little crevice they were in. Rex nodded, but as soon as they lifted up and landed, he nearly threw up again. There was a rushing behind his ears, and he gasped as pain overtook him. He could vaguely hear Anakin talking to him before he passed out.

Rex woke up to a very unhappy Kix standing by his bed, tapping this foot and looking at Rex expectantly.
“Why, pray tell, did you not get that cut on your arm treated when it happened?” Kix demanded.

“Let a guy wake up first, Kix,” Rex muttered, gingerly sitting up in his bed, grimacing when his arm flared a little, along with the way his ankle protested at the movement..

“It got infected. Do you know how difficult it is for things to get infected with all the medical technology we have? If you’d taken 5 minutes to come get it looked at, it would’ve been fine, and I wouldn’t have had to fight for your life over something that was entirely avoidable,” Kix scolded, “Infections are deadly if they aren’t treated, Rex. If you hadn’t been injured out in the field today, by the time you came to finally get it checked, it may have been too late. We might have had to amputate your arm.”

Rex paled at the realization, eyes going wide. He really hadn’t thought it was that serious, but he certainly wasn’t the medic in the room.

Kix sighed and smiled at him kindly, “I’m just worried, is all, captain. I don’t mean to sound cruel. Just stating the facts. You’ve gotta take better care of yourself.”

Rex nodded, “Sorry, Kix. I won’t let that happen again.”

Kix smiled at him again, “I know you won’t. Now, General Skywalker was worried sick about you and I’m sure he’ll want to talk for a little bit. Should I let him in now, or let you sleep a little longer?”

Rex paused and sighed, “I suppose let him in now.” Kix went to go fetch the general, leaving a glass of water by Rex’s bedside.

Anakin came in not long after, going straight to Rex’s bed.

“I’m glad to see you looking much more… alive,” Anakin said as he sat down, “You passed out after I jumped out of that crevice. I had to carry you the whole way back— you are heavy!”

“Most of that’s the armor, probably. Adds about 70 pounds or so,” Rex said with a smirk, “But sorry about that, sir. You shouldn’t have had to leave the battle field because of one man.”

“When will you get it through that head of yours that I do that because I care about you guys? I would’ve done it for any of you. After I got you back here, I went back and helped with some of the other injured,” Anakin said, stroking his chin thoughtfully in a way that was reminiscent of General Kenobi, “We Jedi should do that more often.”

“I’m sure it would mean a lot to the men if you did,” Rex replied, “It’s not a horrible idea.”
“Ah, that’s basically saying ‘I love that idea’ in Rex-speech, so I’ll take it. I’m gonna go check on some of the other men— just try and take better care of yourself next time, okay? I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t with me. Probably go insane,” Anakin said, smiling and patting Rex’s shoulder as he drifted off to the next patient. Rex settled into his bed with a smile and slipped back into an easy slumber.

Many years later, after the Battle of Endor was won, Rex would find out from a certain blond-haired Jedi exactly what Anakin would do when Rex wasn’t with him.

Could you do 'Right as rain' with Rex? (also your fics are so good, I really like all your ideas, all your stuff is so cool, like you've got fan art and everything!)

Some notes first— Thank you so much! It means so much to me to hear that you like my stuff so much. And I know right?? The first time I got fan art, I nearly fainted from excitement. It was such a cool moment. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, anon (and @razena88 bc this was one of the ones you mentioned in your reblog— I also have another coming after this that you mentioned in your reblog, too)! To those of you who also requested something— I’m posting these as I write them, so you’ll see yours… eventually. I’ll also post these to AO3 at some point, although when also remains to be seen. Anyways, on with the fic!

Right as Rain— character says they’re fine before collapsing

The debriefing that was supposed to be 30 minutes had turned into a 2 hour long one. The battle had only just ended and Rex hadn’t had a chance to catch a break in between.

On any other day, that wouldn’t have been an issue. On this day, however, it was, although Rex would never admit it to anyone. The planet that they were on had a harsh environment, which included plants that could cause someone who even slightly touched its leaves to become ill. It started with a headache and some dizziness, but soon spiraled into a full migraine accompanied with a high fever. It was nigh impossible for someone who had been infected to keep down any food after awhile, too. It was potentially deadly if not treated soon enough.

They’d all been careful to avoid it and had been covered head to toe for the entire mission, even the Jedi. Rex was starting to think that maybe he hadn’t avoided it as well as he thought he had as the meeting droned on. Still, it wasn’t his place to interrupt a debriefing simply because he had a headache that felt like a herd of bantha was tap-dancing on his head (a comparison lovingly made by Hardcase earlier on in the war when he’d earned himself a concussion due to an impressive explosion). Besides, Rex didn’t really know if the symptoms were because of that deadly plant, or if it was just because he hadn’t slept in awhile. He’d been so well covered during that entire mission that he was inclined to believe that it was the latter.

Of course, that was ignoring the fact that he felt simultaneously cold and hot, chills running down his spine continuously. It was also ignoring the fact that it was getting more and more difficult to keep from swaying on his feet. Rex stood at Ahsoka’s right and Cody’s left, and it was all he could do not to lean into his older brother. Whatever. He was probably fine.

Rex’s awareness of the meeting, however, had become nonexistent, and so he missed when they asked him a direct question. He had been too focused on controlling the head splitting migraine he’d procured and ignoring the horrible chills running through his veins. Cody bumped Rex’s arm with his elbow, causing Rex to jump back into attention.

“Sorry, what was the question?” Rex asked, mentally kicking himself for not paying attention to the meeting (but Force, it was only supposed to have been 30 minutes long).

“We were asking about the status of your troops, Captain,” General Windu said through the holotable, “How they faired on the mission.”

Rex was fairly certain that they’d already covered that in the meeting (he could have sworn that was what Anakin had been talking about for the last hour or so), and he opened his mouth to say that when he realized that that would not be an appropriate response. He was very glad he was wearing his helmet, then, so that the generals could not see his facial expressions as he tried to get his thoughts in order.

“Captain, are you quite alright?” General Kenobi, ever perceptive, asked from across the table. Rex nodded— he thought he did, at least, but it was actually more of a shudder than anything else.

“Rex,” Cody said in a low tone, gently reaching out to rest a hand on Rex’s shoulders.

Rex was vaguely aware that now all eyes were on him, so he gathered up his strength to reply, “Yes, I’m fine.”

He collapsed into Cody’s arms immediately after getting that out, his strength spent. His head was aching, though, and he was so cold and so hot and he couldn’t even see straight. The last thing he remembered before everything went black was Cody ripping the helmet off of Rex’s head and asking him to respond.

Rex woke up an indeterminable amount of time later, finding himself in the medbay stripped down to his blacks, although the top had been peeled off at some point. He still had a hell of a headache, although now it only felt like one bantha tap-dancing on his head instead of a whole herd. He heard a chuckle at his bedside and found Cody was looking at him with an exasperated expression, and he realized that he must’ve said that out loud.

Rex opened his mouth to actually talk with his brother, but Cody held up a hand to hush him.

“Next time,” Cody said, “Just tell us you think you’re sick, okay?”

Rex had the decency to look embarrassed and nodded. Cody rolled his eyes at him and told Rex to get some more sleep. The good captain was more than happy to comply.

Error 404 for Rex!

Thanks for the prompt! Hope this is satisfactory! (Also @razena88 since this was another one you mentioned in your reblog!)

Error 404: character refuses to admit they’re sick

Although he was loathe to admit it, the Blue Shadow Virus had taken quite the toll on Rex’s immune system. That meant that it was much easier for him to get sick than it was for other clones who hadn’t caught that virus. Thus, he had become quite the expert in hiding the fact that he was sick.

It wasn’t that he got sick very often, mind you. Anytime he felt hot and cold at once or had a headache that felt like it was caused by something more than lack of sleep or dehydration, Rex could take care of it on his own. He didn’t count that as “sick,” seeing as it normally went away within a rotation of it happening. He could function through that. However, what he was experiencing right now seemed to be a little bit more than just a headache and a fever, considering it felt like his stomach was continually doing flips inside of him. It was like he was seasick, like how little cadets often felt seasick on Kamino before they got used to the way the buildings gently rocked with the rough seas below. Regardless, Rex chalked it up to needing some more food and water and went about his day.

“Captain! You’re looking a little green. Are you doing alright?” The question came up practically out of nowhere (for Rex that is). Had he been paying more attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed Fives slinking up to him in the mess hall. Rex had been too focused on finishing his meal without throwing it all back up for him to notice.

He did not jump at Fives’ sudden appearance at his side. He did not. Rex glowered down at the ARC and rolled his eyes, “Of course I’m fine, Fives. Just a little hungry.”

“Are you sure, because it looks to me like you’re having trouble finishing your meal. Are you sick?” Fives asked.

“No, Fives, of course I’m not sick. We clones are engineered to stay healthy, you know,” Rex replied, shaking his head at him.

“Okay. Fine. Then finish your meal right now while I sit with you,” Fives said, crossing his arms across his chest and holding his chin up, “If you’re truly as hungry as you say, then you won’t have a problem doing that, right?”

Oh, that stubborn kriffer. Fives had learned to be that stubborn from somewhere, however, and two could play at that game, “Fine, Fives. Not a problem.”

Rex turned to his meal and regarded it carefully. Force, just looking at it made him more nauseous, somehow. His stomach continued doing flips and he felt a mixture of hot/cold— no, he could not have a fever on top of nausea. That simply wouldn’t do. Then he’d be sick, and Captain Rex of the 501st Battalion could not be sidelined by something as simple as a little virus.

“I’m waiting, Rex,” Fives said, looking at Rex expectantly.

“You’ll call me ‘captain,’ or ‘sir,’ Fives, remember?” Rex said to the bratty trooper. Fives rolled his eyes at him— such insubordination! Rex wouldn’t have it any other way.

The blond clone picked up his ration bar and forced himself to take a bite, ignoring the way it caused his stomach to protest. Then he took another, and another, until he’d finally finished the entire bar. The nausea was ten times worse than it had been to start off with, but at least he’d eaten.

“I have to say, Captain, I didn’t think you’d manage it,” Fives said, sounding impressed.

Rex opened his mouth to say something along the lines of, ‘Of course I managed it, what do you take me for?’ but his stomach practically screamed at him. He jumped out of his seat and made it to the nearest trash bin just in time to throw up all of the food he’d just eaten. He felt a steady hand on his back, warm and reassuring, and he allowed himself to relax ever so slightly.

“You must’ve picked up some virus from the last planet we were on, Captain,” said Fives from his side.

“‘M not… sick,” Rex managed between gasps for air. It felt like was finished vomiting for now, and he had to admit that his stomach hurt a lot less than it did beforehand.

“Sure, Rex, you’re not sick,” Fives agreed, “Just indisposed of, right?”

“No,” Rex said, forcing himself into a standing position from where he had been hunched over the bin, “I’m fine.”

“Sir, I just watched you throw up a meal, which I had, very painfully, watched you force down even though you knew it would make you feel worse. C’mon, I’m taking you to Kix,” Fives said, holding an arm out for Rex to lean on.

Rex huffed and pushed him aside, intent on continuing with his duties for the day, but he didn’t make it more than a step before his knees buckled from underneath him. Fives caught him easily, placing a hand on his forehead as he did so.

“Force, Rex, I can even feel you’re burning up through my gloves,” The ARC trooper said, repressing a sigh, “We’re going to the medbay.” Rex had no choice but to go with him.

When they were about halfway there, Rex managed a pitiful sigh and looked up at Fives forlornly.

“Fives,” he said in a small voice, “I think I might be sick.”

Fives smiled down at him kindly, “I know, Rex, but you’ll be better in no time.”

As he was ushered onto a bed and fretted over by Kix, Rex instinctively knew that Fives was right.

Sneak peek at the next thing on my to-do list

Shortly after the mission to the Citadel, Rex, Fives, and Jesse stumble across an artifact that permanently changes Rex. With his newfound abilities, he must navigate the war as it draws to a close...

There was a stone in his boot. Rex glared down at his feet as if that would make the stone leave, but it was still irritatingly there. It was small, of course, just barely big enough for him to feel it, but it was right on the arch of his foot, where it was most tender. Chalking up a blister before it even formed, he sighed, readjusting his hold on his blaster pistols. Jesse looked over at him. “Chin up, Captain, just because we haven’t found anything yet doesn’t mean there’s nothing to find.” “I think we’re supposed to want there to be nothing to find,” Fives grumbled, kicking a clump of grass as the walked through the narrow canyon that led out toward the grasslands from the small abandoned settlement the rest of the 501st had set up camp in. “Looking for a Seppie base, remember?” “I remember,” Jesse said, nudging Fives with his elbow, “Just like I remember you leaping at the chance to go exploring.”

“That was before I knew that ‘exploring’ just meant wandering down a straight path,” Fives shot back.

Ordinarily, Rex would have scolded Fives for his tone, but as it was, it had been less than a month since he’d lost his ori’vod, Echo, so he cut him some slack. Gesturing with his pistol, he ushered the other two troopers down the canyon, scanning the walls as he did.

It was only because of that that he noticed the small crack in the wall, just large enough for someone to squeeze through. “Fives, Jesse,” he called, drawing their attention before carefully making his way through the crack.

As the other two followed, he took the opportunity to look around the tunnel the crack had led into. It didn’t look naturally created, the walls rough and uneven in a way that made him think it had been carved out by the local fauna, but the ceilings were tall, stretching above his head and making him feel small. Some sort of bioluminescent fungus grew on the walls, giving the place a dim lighting. Squaring his shoulders, he flicked on his headlamp anyway, not wanting to stumble over anything in the low light.

Fives and Jesse managed to get into the tunnel behind him, and Rex gestured for them to start making their way through the cave. Rex led the way, the others’ headlamps bouncing off the walls as they looked around.

The tunnel meandered for some distance. Right as Rex was about to call a halt so he could finally get the stupid rock out of his boot, they rounded a corner and Rex sucked in a breath. In the middle of the small cavern they found themselves in was what looked like an altar of some sort, lit by sunlight filtering through an overgrown hole in the ceiling.

Floating above the table was something Rex had only seen once before. Jesse seemed to recognize it as well, as he straightened. “Is that a Jedi holocron, sir?”

“It looks like.” Rex glanced around the chamber, noting some smashed pottery in the corners and faded flecks of paint on the walls. “This looks Jedi enough, must have been a meditation spot or something.”

“Should we comm the general, sir?” Fives asked, looking worried. He hadn’t been with the 501st during the original Jedi holocron incident, but he’d heard stories, and Rex thought he was right to be afraid. Force only knew what the Seppies could have done with this if they’d learned it was here.

Rex nodded. “Might as well try. I’ve no clue if the signal will get out, but with the hole in the ceiling, it’s worth a shot.”

Fives nodded and stepped forward, activating his comm. “This is ARC trooper Fives, calling forward camp. Do you read me?” Static over the line, and Fives cursed before trying again.

This time, someone answered. “Fives, we read you,” General Skywalker’s voice sounded tinny and was layered with static, but it was there. “What’s the situation?”

“We’ve, uh, discovered a Jedi artifact in a cave, sir.”

Skywalker sounded surprised. “A what? Nevermind, how do you know it’s Jedi?”

“Well, it’s floating in midair, sir, and I’m not detecting any magnetic field holding it up,” Fives said, a hint of sass in his voice, and Rex, removing his helmet, shot him a look.

It didn’t sound like Skywalker minded. “Okay, okay. Does it look dangerous?”

“No, sir. It’s just floating there.”

Jesse made to touch it, and Rex grabbed his arm, holding him back. “Not till the general says to,” he said in an undertone, and Jesse nodded.

“Bring it back to base,” Skywalker was saying, “But be careful. There’s no telling how long it’s been there, and what defenses it could have. I don’t want you boys getting buried if the cave collapses.”

“Copy that, sir. Fives out.” Fives cut the connection and turned to Rex. “Well, sir, I think it’d be best we got out of here.”

Rex nodded, then reached out. What happened next happened in a blur. His fingertips brushed the holocron, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up, right before pain like he’d never known ripped through him. He was vaguely aware that he screamed, but he wasn’t aware enough to stop himself. Lightning was ripping his cells apart, searing his DNA, and stitching the cells back together.

He heard more than saw the holocron drop and the boys run forward. The next thing he knew, Jesse’s familiar helmet was in his face, and his frantic voice was calling for Rex to respond, but before Rex could open his mouth, a fog rapidly crawled into his vision, thickening before finally everything went black.

Febuwhump Day 23

Prompt: “Don’t look”

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence/slave torture

Read on AO3

Oya Manda

While the tally marks on Rex’s armor are for his kills, the ones he now marks on the side of his boot are for the days that have passed since he and General Kenobi were taken to Kadavo. Crossing the other four marks with a shaky diagonal line to signify the end of the fifth day isn’t as satisfying as another enemy out of the way. He sighs as he sets down the little piece of graphite, letting his head hit the back of the bunk heavily like he’s too exhausted to hold it up himself.

Kadavo is a new type of hell. He thought cadet training was hard work but this… this is torture. The older troopers like to whisper about their “slavery to the Republic”, but those cushy Captains and Commanders haven’t been here. The clones might as well be house pets of the Republic compared to the horrors he’s seen at the Zygerrian market.

Keep reading

angstpril day 11

i may not be able to do the whole month as i had intended bc life so idk we'll see

-

prompt: "this isn't you."

[summary: cody interrogates rex about ex-padawan tano's location.]

tw: electrocution

-

The cuffs chafe at his wrists, leaving them angry and red. Rex knows there is no point, escape is futile. That doesn't stop him from trying.

"Cody, please." The trooper just stares blankly at him, unyielding. A relic of what was once his brother.

"Tell me where Ex-Padawan Tano is." If he can just get through the programming, he can save Cody. They can leave this white room of hell, and be together, like they were meant to be.

"This isn't you!" The tension in his chest cracks, catapulting the shockwave of emotion into the empty space.

Cody just blinks, unaffected.

"Where is Ahsoka Tano?" His hands yank at the restraints.

Cody's eyes flick to his struggle for freedom.

"Having trouble?"A hint of Cody's old smirk returns. Rex is not glad to see it. Now cocky and smug, it's like an imposter has taken root.

"I'm not telling you anything." It hurts to look at Cody. His eyes are cruel, glinting with unfamiliar malice. The calculating nature once present in his friend has been honed like a knife. Sharp and prepared to strike deep.

"You were the last to see her." There is no way he'll give up Ahsoka. They'll have to pry the knowledge from his cold, dead hands.

She's his last friend.

Cody continues, "I examined the crash-site myself. The Venator is destroyed, but I know she isn't."

"Vod"-

"Don't call me that. I am not a traitor, I serve the Empire." The words reek with bitter irony. Rex knows Cody, the real Cody, would scream with the knowledge of what he's become.

"Cody, I can help you."

"Stubborn as always, I see. It's no matter." Cody stands and walks toward the exit, mumbling about obstinance and loyalty.

He opens the door to talk quietly with the Imperial guard.

"Tell Lord Vader we shall have her whereabouts by tomorrow. This one is being difficult."

Lord Vader's name sends a spike of fear through his heart, he's heard the rumors. A man cloaked in death, one who leaves brittle, burning carnage in his wake.

But Rex will do anything to protect Ahsoka. Even face Vader head-on.

Rex closes his eyes and prepares himself. He will not break, He will not break, He will not break-

Footsteps move toward the button near the left side of the room, with purpose. The control panel Rex had catalogued immediately after waking.

His eyes jolt open, a last ditch effort to find Cody's. Once, he would've looked to them for comfort, for support. Now it is a desperate plea, hoping to find the last shred of goodness in his friend.

Rising panic meets swift brutality, and Cody places his finger on the mechanism.

Betraying his vod again-

The electrocution starts, and Rex knows no more.

For the bad things happen bingo, I Will Punish You For Your Friend's Failure, with Obi Wan and Rex during the Zygeria arc with Rex being punished by the slavers.

Oooooh, happy evil brain twinkles.

TW for blood, child death, and mildly graphic torture. No specifics because spoilers but do be cautious.

•••

There is an enemy, and it is within, the Jedi taught.

You will encounter foes of all forms in your years as a Jedi. There will be cruel tyrants and selfish politicians, ruthless criminals and violent terrorists. Possessive lovers, radical reformists, slavers and desperate people willing to do whatever it takes to achieve what matters to them. And then the next thing, and the next.

But these are not the enemy.

The Jedi have only two natural enemies.

The Sith have been extinguished from the galaxy, lost to ruin. What the Jedi did not destroy, the Sith themselves did, locked in the raw emotion of the Dark Side, turning on one another.

And the Jedi are left with the true enemy.

You are the enemy, the Masters warned. Your weaknesses are your real enemy.

All obstacles can be overcome as long as you master yourself.

Fear will lead you astray. Push through it.

Anger will corrupt you. Abandon it.

Envy will poison you. Purge it.

Grief will break you. Overcome it.

And if you fall, you will fall as yourself, at peace. A true Jedi perishes for the right reasons, where not even self-possession could stop the sheer numbers of the opposition.

The enemy is within.

•

Obi-Wan Kenobi took a deep, steadying breath. The enemy is within, he reminded himself. My fear is the enemy. These people cannot destroy me.

The broken wrist, clumsily bandaged and still forced to work, whispers that otherwise. The bruises along his spine groan in misery. There was a cut on his upper lip that had bled and dried in his beard and lips. Someone had driven the handle of a whip into the muscles of his left leg, and it could not bear his weight.

He opened his eyes just in time to receive a stunning blow across the face.

Despite the fancies of holodramas, a strike to the face is nothing to brush aside.

The Jedi reeled, his head exploding, his face stinging. White light erupted behind his eyes and his nose burned as if he’d dived too deep into water.

“Who is your Master?” a voice demanded.

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly, gasping for air. His entire head throbbed; he was on his knees but his back had arched back so far his head was a foot from the floor. Wincing, he dragged himself back up and stared passively into the snarling Zyggerian’s eyes. “I am.”

A roar of discontent. “Wrong!”

The hand came back, but this time it closed around his throat.

•

Qui-Gon caught him by the shoulders, one hand moving upwards to press against the side of his Padawan’s neck.

“You are stronger than your fear,” he said. “Because your fear is only part of you. Your strengths outnumber your fear, Obi-Wan.”

Behind the boy’s young eyes, though - flashes of remembered horror, children dead in the streets of Melida/Daan and the screaming sound a blaster bolt made as it grazed close, so close, to his ear - and hit another boy instead —

Obi-Wan gasped as if drowning, his mind convinced that he was not getting enough oxygen.

Fear was going to kill him.

Fear was the enemy.

“Oh, Padawan,” sighed his Master. And then the hands left his neck and his shoulder, leaving Obi-Wan bereft, plunged into ice cold waters of terror and trauma, his failures haunting him like the ghost of Cerasi.

•

Obi-Wan choked, bucking involuntarily as the meaty hand clenched around his throat, crushing his air pipe.

He couldn’t breathe.

Still. What did it matter, if this monstrous slaver killed him in a fit of rage? Obi-Wan was more than this man and his pride, his greed, his disregard for life.

Obi-Wan was a Jedi.

His body’s automatic response to being abused and killed was nothing.

He was more than his fear.

“Damn Jedi!”

The hand released him, and the red-haired General slumped to the floor, unable to stop his forehead from colliding painfully with the uneven slag flooring. More blood. He tasted it in his mouth, he felt it dripping down his forehead.

“Very well,” the same voice continued. “The punishment must suit the prisoner, in some cases. How lucky of you. So special.”

They cannot hurt me, Obi-Wan reminded himself. My body is not my soul. I am more than my fear.

And then two more slavers entered the room at a summons, dragging a struggling figure between them.

Rex.

Obi-Wan’s fear spiked so sharply he felt his chest stab with physical pain.

No, he told himself. No. Fight it. Fight it—

The Zyggerian behind him sensed his rising emotion and grabbed him roughly, one hand on the thick collar around the Jedi’s throat, and the other dug painfully into his hair.

•

Obi-Wan shuddered.

A bomb - Twela, Bruin, Conno, Toorun, and others went flying, flailing helplessly in the air.

Toorun rolled on his side and got back up.

Conno collided with a vehicle and lay still.

Bruin landed on his feet and stood up, grinning in shocked relief, and then dropped with a bullet in his head. Blood spattered stone.

Twela landed on a pile of rubble.

When Obi-Wan found her, she had been lying there for an hour while the battle wore on, a rebar shoved through her stomach.

It took her two days to die—

Cerasi, falling into his arms. Gasping. Blood everywhere. Her father screaming. Blood on Obi-Wan’s hands—

Nield, his friend, telling him he didn’t belong - kicking him out of the camp to die alone - blaming Obi-Wan, rightfully, for the death of Cerasi and the peace she had helped create—

But as quickly as they had been taken away, the warm and solid hands of Qui-Gon Jinn were there again, this time on his back. Pulling him. Tightening around him.

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly, gasping and shaking, pressed into a warm embrace while his Master rocked him gently, whispering encouragement into his hair.

It was good to be held.

•

Obi-Wan twisted, struggling in near-panic to get away from the arms restraining him.

“Stop it!” he yelled. “Stop!”

They did not stop.

The Zyggerians had been on Rex for over two hours, holding him down, methodically slicing the soles of his feet, throwing their fists into his abdomen and face and throat, slamming his head against the unforgiving ground.

The Captain was a mess; bruised and bloodied, involuntary tears making his damaged face glisten.

Rex had finally started to scream five minutes ago, and still they would not stop—

“Stop! You’ll kill him!” Obi-Wan shouted, his bound hands clenched so tightly that his palms were torn and bleeding. “Stop!”

“And now the bird sings,” the slave master crowed, laughing down at him. “So high and mighty, Jedi?”

“Leave him alone!” Obi-Wan demanded.

The slaver’s face darkened.

Two things happened at almost the same moment.

A knife was drawn from seemingly thin air and without hesitation or fanfare was plunged into Rex’s thigh; the Captain screamed again, writhing.

A button was pressed, and the collar around Obi-Wan’s neck blazed with electricity that made him convulse, blinded, agonized.

“You don’t give the orders here,” the master snarled. “Haven’t you learned? You’re not in control here!”

•

“You are in control, Padawan,” Qui-Gon murmured, rubbing his hand up and down the boy’s back, following the still too-prominent line of his spine. Up and down, up and down.

“I’m not,” Obi-Wan sobbed. “I’m a failure.”

“You haven’t failed until you’ve let yourself down and decided not to get up again,” his Master replied firmly. “You are master of yourself, Obi-Wan, and therefore master of the situation. You can rise above. Even if you need help to do it. You are not a slave to fear.”

•

“Slaves are not masters,” the Zyggerian bellowed, and Rex screamed again.

Obi-Wan shuddered and twitched on the floor; he felt filthy, ragged, used. Now useless.

“You don’t make the rules!” A kick to the abdomen that deprived him of air. Once again suffocating. Drowning.

All he could see was the bloodstained floor. All he could hear was the voice, and Rex screaming through gritted teeth.

“Every time you cross me, I’ll punish your freakish friend. And anyone else that crosses your path. I! Am! In! Control! Here!” Each of the final words was delivered with a sharp jerk on the chain that had been attached to the collar.

Obi-Wan choked and wheezed.

Pain.

Terror.

Helpless.

I can’t —

“Who is your Master?”

“You are,” Obi-Wan told Fear, eyes glazed, blood spattered across his vision. Maybe permanently. Like a brand. Like Cerasi’s lifeblood on his shaking hands.

“Who is your Master?” the slaver asked again.

Obi-Wan stared vacantly upwards.

Fear looked back at him. Outside him. Inside him. Triumphant.

“You are,” whispered the Jedi, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

He slumped to the floor.

Rex’s screams faded as the punishment abruptly ceased; the Clone lay on the stone floor, limp and in terrible pain, staring with abject fear in his eyes at the fallen Jedi.

His utter relief that the pain was over, that they had taken their hideous hands off of him, was warring with his worry.

And his growing terror.

If even General Kenobi could be controlled...

“A good start,” the slave master said thoughtfully, trodding deliberately on Obi-Wan’s damaged foot. “And I was told Jedi did not feel fear.”

•••

angstpril day 4: he’s not heavy, he’s my brother

oh dear, oh dear. have some Umbara (derogatory)

(tw: major character death)

“Sir!” Waxer skids to a stop, out of breath. “I’ve found the platoon leader. He’s still alive.” The forest shivers around them, imaginary enemies blinking red eyes in the distance. 

Cody hates it here. “Who is it?”

Waxer swallows and his face pales. “It’s—” he clutches the helmet in his hand tighter, duraplast creaking in his grip. “It’s Rex.”

Keep reading

Reconditioned Rex? That one sounds really interesting, how can I find the first part of it?

I'm sorry anon, there's no first part, I got my wires scrambled and confused the au 😭 I got a drawing (i think you can find it in the tag below, in on mobile, sorry :c), but lemme explain the basics of it >:)c

Basically, Rex is the one who shots Krell at Umbara, and he's sent to reconditioning. Because a logistics issue, they are accidentally sent to the 501st. Ofc, nobody assumes that's Rex, they just think this new blond kid is just a coincidence.

However, as time goes by, Torrent connect the dots and realize that this shiny used to be Rex!! The story the follows the five stages of grief, from denial (Rex has died) to acceptation (this shiny, Temple, is NOT Rex, but they wouldn't exist without his absence)