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spidernuggets · 6 days ago

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Father!Rex Sloan Headcanons

(requested by @queen-of-gotham tysm queen🧡)

AN: lowk wasn’t expecting anyone to want a continuation of this so soon, but i’m extremely grateful 🫶🏾 this is giving me a chance to write new characters and flesh out my creativity — never hesitate to send me requests in my comments or asks!

WARNINGS: AFAB!Reader (no use of female pronouns), brief mentions of sex MDNI, pregnancy, fluff, OOC Rex?? (first time writing for him,so idk), not proofread

Being a risk taker was something Rex was known for, this goes for in and out of the bedroom. Whether you were on the pill or not, he always insisted on fucking you raw. (as long as you let him) Pregnancy be damned. There’s a 50/50 chance and he’s willing to gamble. And so far, you’ve been baby free.

Rex swears that he could stay buried in your pussy for hours. The way your slick walls gripped him like a vice, milking his cock for all it’s worth, fuck…it’s addicting. He rolled his hips lazily into yours, making sure you felt every inch of him. He panted against your neck, his messy russet hair sticking to your skin. You’ve lost count of how many times you came. But were you complaining? Noo. You couldn’t, not when he kept hitting the spot that made you see stars. You mewled beneath him as he thrusted into you once more.

“Rex…”

“Shhh…I know, I know— fuck, you feel so amazing…Just one more round, I’m almost done I swear…”

His lips grazed your smooth shoulders, kissing the marks he’d left — clearly drunk off of you.

“One more round.” What a bunch of bullshit🙄

The night ended with his cum leaking out of you and a positive test the next following days. He couldn’t say that he didn’t expect it, but that doesn’t stop him from being shocked. Rex Sloan being a father? What a joke. However, as you took another test to be sure, reality began to set in. He’s going to be a dad…

At first, he didn’t know how to feel — mainly because he lacked the knowledge on how to be a parent, given that his own were absent. Because of this, he wonders if he could ever be a good father. He’s saved babies occasionally, sure, but never handled them. They were loud, needy, and messy — he knew about that much.

So when you told Rex that you wished to keep the baby, he was hesitant. How could you want to raise a child with a guy like him? This man wasn’t known for being the smartest nor responsible in certain situations. He’s been in relationships and broke more hearts than he could count, there’s no way he could be someone your child could look up to. Not after everything he’s done.

Thinks that the domestic life was something he’s not worthy of having.

While he may be worried, he’ll still be supportive of your decision. He’ll have to warm up to the idea of parenthood. But with your love and reassurance, he’ll grow more comfortable.

Since then, you’ve noticed him trying to turn his life around bit by bit. First, he’s picked up cooking. Every morning you’ll wake to find him in the kitchen — hair pulled back and sporting a pink apron.

“Shit, shit, shit-! Fuck!”

You awoke Rex’s strings of curses and the beeping of the smoke alarm. You bursted out of the bedroom, the smell of smoke assaulting your nose. A fire! Rushing in search of your boyfriend, you saw him standing over a pan of burnt bacon and an overflowing pot of oatmeal.

“I try doing something nice for once and-“

The moment he turned around to go open a window, he froze at the sight of you standing there — looking gorgeous with your stomach round. His eyes widened and his cheeks burned a bright crimson. You weren’t supposed to be up this early!

“Oh, good morning, babe…uhh-“

Walking towards the kitchen counter, he picked up a plate and offered it to you with a nervous chuckle — a piece of toast, slightly overcooked scrambled eggs, and a crispy looking pancake. He smiled sheepishly.

“Breakfast?”

Cooking may not be his forte, but it’s the thought that counts. (he’ll get better at it soon…) And for you? He’d do anything.

Started taking his job a bit more seriously. If he’s going to be your provider, then he needs to bring more bills home. He also became dead set on buying a home…his first home with you. You’d both be cuddling in bed, flipping through house magazines.

“What about this one, hun?”

“Hmm…nahh, the backyard is too small. If we’re gonna build a playground, then we need something bigger. Our child deserves the best of the best.”

And that’s a belief he stood by.

Absolutely adored your body’s changes. He always loved your body, but seeing you grow curvier and softer made him cherish (and crave…) you even more. The fact that you were carrying a part of him in you always made his heart twist. He never passed up on an opportunity to touch you.

Watch your back when you’re around him…you once bent over to throw laundry in the dryer and he smacked your ass so hard😭 (flat or not he don’t care…)

“Rex!”

“Sorry, can’t help myself when you have allat out and about!”

As silly as it sounds, he reads parenting books. He wants to be mentally prepared for this new chapter in life, and he wants to be a father your child could be proud of.

Accompanies you to every appointment you have, doesn’t matter how important it is, he wants to be there every step of the way — and to stay informed about your health.

Got midnight cravings? He’ll gladly get up in the middle of the night if it means you’ll be happy and the little one is healthy…

Back hurting? He’ll sit down with you for hours while rubbing the kinks out, his touch soothing and reverent.

Praises you all of the time, letting you know how grateful he is.

Rex likes to rest his head on your stomach to feel the soft movements of your baby every night before bed. He also talks to them too, telling them how they’re going to have the best dad ever.

“We’re gonna make everyone jealous.”

“Just know that I’ll blow up mountains for you, you hear?”

“I’m gonna give you the world…”

As he continued to lay his head on your belly, he could have sworn that he heard another heartbeat. Wait…

Yep, you were pregnant with not only one, but two girls! Rex felt a little lightheaded at the news. Now he had to work as twice as hard.

When you two moved to your new house, he hosted a baby shower with the members of Teen Team. (Immortal and Rudy had to pay an entrance fee) Seeing everyone bring in gifts, playing party games, and laughing together — it was moments like this that reminded Rex that life was still worth living.

Became paranoid as you neared your due date. He had the hospital bag tucked in the trunk of his car already.

“Rex, it was just a contraction…we’re fine.”

“But what if they come early?!”

During the entire birthing process, Rex was a nervous wreck. He sat beside you, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his hand from you squeezing him so hard, and fanning you. He kept a close eye on the doctors and nurses, not trusting them on bit. If they caused you any unnecessary pain, he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from cussing them out.

Your pained noises broke his heart.

However, once he heard those two cries, the world came to a standstill. The moment he held them in his arms, he couldn’t help but to weep. You blessed him with something special. And for that, he’s eternally grateful. And just like that, he found his true purpose: this little family.

It’s funny how your daughters looked like a copy of their father…those Sloan genes must really be dominant.

His dramatic ass couldn’t change a diaper without gagging 💀 The amount of times he nearly threw up…it got so bad that you banned him from changing them. He makes it up to them by taking up the night shift whenever he could.

Got them matching plushies of himself for them to sleep with. That way, they’ll know that their dad is always with them.

Loves pushing them around in a stroller while he goes for a morning jog. His chest swells with pride whenever anyone compliments them.

“Aww! Aren’t they just the cutest?”

“Mhm, and they got it from their daddy!”

Makes a picture book for ever milestone and family moment. Rex knows he won’t live forever, so he wants to leave them something to remember him by.

Calls them: “little shit”, “baby girl”, “sweet pea”

Accidentally taught them how to curse. Old habits die hard, okay? Their first word wasn’t “mama” or “dada”…it was “fuck.” And since that day, Rex watched his profanity around the house. You were pissed💀

I’m sorry, but there’s no way in hell that he’s going to raise an ipad kid. As a matter of fact, they won’t get their first electronic until the end of middle school. Instead, Rex keeps them busy with books. Having a good education was a luxury he missed out on, and he doesn’t want the same for them. He’s raising future Einsteins…

And to keep them from spending too much time indoors, a nice playground was built in the backyard — just as he planned. It had a slide, swing set, and even a treehouse. (Eve helped build it)

He’ll be out there for hours, playing tag and pushing them on the swings. You could always hear their infectious laughter. In a way, you knew that bonding with them healed his inner child.

Attends every school event no matter how big or small. Showing up matters. It could be a crappy flute recital, and he’ll be there recording.

Packs them cute lunches for school. (don’t worry, his skills have improved) He leave them lil notes.

“Daddy is always proud of you. :)♥️” , “Make sure to eat your veggies, alright? Love you!”

If they tell him that his cute lunches are lame by the time they’re in their teens, he’ll genuinely be heartbroken 😭

Rex does not tolerate any back talk. If they get sassy with you or him, he’s quick to quip back and it’s enough to make them shut up. I mean, he’s a sassy man apocalypse veteran.

“These greens suck balls…”

“Yeah, just like the D you got on your report card. But you don’t see me whining.”

If they’re having boy problems, Rex will listen and give them advice. (all while trying not to think about beating up the asshole) He used to be a troublemaker, so he knows what it’s like to be in their shoes, and why they do the stupid shit they do.

Speaking if boys, Rex is pretty strict and judgmental about who they bring home. They have to impress him before they could even think about taking the girls out of the house. He’s not letting them get heartbroken on his watch. When they’re over, bedroom doors wide open. He’ll walk by occasionally to make sure nothing funny is going on. No cuddling, kissing, none of that…

He will also shit talk the boy whenever they leave.

You and Rex were lying in bed, preparing to doze off for the night, until…

“Please tell me you saw the way he dressed…”

“Honey…”

“If you’re gonna meet the parents, at least dress like you want to make a good impression. And that fucker had the nerve to call me by my first name!”

It’s safe to say they never came back…

Is it weird that I see him liking them painting his nails

Has a small picture of you and the girls in his locker at the Teen Team HQ. Not only was it comforting to look at whenever he came back from a grueling mission, but it served to remind him to stay safe out there. For the first time, he had people who loved and cherished him unconditionally. Coming home to you all was his goal at the end of the day.

Has a heart locket with you all in there as well, he keeps it hidden under his suit.

Overall, this man became a family man and got his life back on track

IT WOULD BE A SHAME IF A BUNCH OF INVINCIBLE VARIANTS CAME TO DESTROY EARTH

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spidernuggets · 6 days ago

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Rex Splode x Plus size reader with insecurities about their weight

Sure, love bug! 🐛

🧡💛More To Love��🧡

(Rex Sloan x Plus-size!Reader)

Word count: 1k

Synopsis: insecurities? Not if Rex has anything to say about it.

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, oral f!receiving, use of pet names (babe, baby, mama), body worship, slight self deprecation.

Notes from the batcave: as a plus sized girliepop myself, this man would not care about your weight. Pre or post lobotomy. ☠️

Rex was… befuddled to say the least, watching you stand half-dressed in the mirror and pinching at the fat on your body with a displeased frown on your pretty lips.

You had exuded confidence from the moment he met you. You were loud and bright and so unabashedly yourself. You walked with purpose, carried yourself with a confidence he’d only seen on runway models, and all you were doing was hauling buckets of flowers with water at the bottom inside the store you worked at for the evening.

“Uh- here, let me help you.” Rex remembers fumbling his greeting, strong hands gently grasping the bucket in yours and instead of letting him, you gave him a confused look and a similar frown on your plump lips that you were wearing now when you responded with,

“I got it. This is my job. You need a bouquet or something?”

Did he need flowers? No. But he bought some anyway. He had spent a half hour that day strolling behind you and asking half-baked questions just to hear your voice more before ultimately buying a bouquet of mixed florals based on your recommendation.

He was captivated by you. His mind wandering to less-than-appropriate thoughts every time he showed up at the florist shop looking for you and new excuses to see you and the outfit you were wearing.

The day he finally asked you out for real, you were wearing these shorts that your thick thighs ate up, and Rex’s immediate thought was he could die happy between those thighs.

Not that he told you that right away, but he never cared about the ‘extra’ weight you claimed to have, only ever showering you with positive comments about how gorgeous you looked in whatever you were (or weren’t) wearing.

So to see you now, silently hating those beautiful curves he couldn’t get enough of, makes him a bit upset.

He comes up behind you, strong hands on your love handles, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“What’s the face for, babe?” He asks, peering at you through the mirror, his eyes on yours.

“It’s nothing, just-“ you start to say, biting your lip. How could you explain to him what you were feeling without sounding absolutely pathetic?

“Just what, baby?” He pressed, Rex’s head dipping to the curve of your neck, pressing a kiss to it.

“I know you had other girlfriends before- but meeting them…”

Your voice trails. He had brought you to the Guardians headquarters the day before to meet his team. His team that included two ex-girlfriends and who were both built like they could walk for Victoria’s Secret. What did he see in you in comparison? Those insecurities from before you decided to love yourself were coming back full force.

Rex understood. At least he thought he did. He wasn’t ever the sharpest tool in the shed.

“Eve is dating Mark and Rae isn’t even on the team anymore. I hardly see her.” He insists, lips kissing down your shoulder, gently pushing the bra strap down, thinking that maybe your discontentment was coming from a place of jealousy that they existed in the same room as him.

“Yeah, but they’re so… skinny. And I’m…” your voice trails as you motion to yourself, and Rex pulls back, utterly aghast that you would dare start that sentence.

“What? Beautiful? Gorgeous? Stunning? Uh… radiant?” He challenges, like he’s expecting you to deny any of the things he’s said. His hands now trail up to your ribs and down to the plushness of your thighs as the two of you talk.

“… Rex.” You huff his name, and he smirks, his lips pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“What? You’re gorgeous. I don’t know what you’re trying to go on about, but I love every bit of you.” He says, shifting to sweep you off your feet like you weigh nothing at all and bringing you to the bed.

He sits down, man-handling you to sit on top of his chest, pulling you up towards his face.

“Come on, mama, take a seat.” He insists, hands roaming over the plushness of your thighs and back to your ass to give a squeeze.

“What? No, you’ll suffocate.” You say, shifting as he tugs you up anyway, your hands bracing the headboard as you look down at him, trying to pull away, your body hovering over his face.

“I’ll die a damn lucky man if I go out by your pretty pussy, babe.” He insists, with a grin you can’t see as he lifts up to bury his face in your panty-clad cunt.

“Sit.” He says, hands moving to rip away the offending fabric, tossing the scraps somewhere into the floor of your room.

“Rex!” You squeal, pouting at the fact he destroyed one of your favorite pairs.

“I’ll get you new ones. Sit.” He says again, strong hands tugging on your thighs to bring your cunt to his face, and you do as he asks, bringing most of your weight down on him.

He grunts, starting his work, tongue running through your folds, nose bumping against your clit, too excited to dive in before he pulls back enough to reprimand you, because he can still do that, still has to chase the taste he wants.

“I said Sit.” It’s demanding as he roughly tugs on your legs until your full weight is on his face, and he happily drinks you up like he was parched.

Rex is slurring praises all night long, completely drunk off your entire essence. He’s manhandling you into every position he can think of, worshiping every inch of skin on your body. Every roll and stretch mark has been kissed, squeezed, licked, or lovingly bitten.

Insecure? Not as long as Rex has anything to say about it. He’ll worship you like a damn goddess until every negative thought you’ve ever had is out of that beautiful brain of yours.

🦇 back to the batcave 🦇

🪐 invincible masterlist 🪐

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spidernuggets · 6 days ago

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Crawling Back to You

Chapter nineteen

Synopsis: From Rex getting his brains blown out to asking you to dance at an over-exaggerated gala, he has a lot to think about.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Chapter: 19/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: Depictions of Violence, Wounds, a Panic Attack, and the Subtlest of References to a Boner (lol)

Note: Sorry for how long it took to get this out, I have been so busy every single day. Sorry the sections are so clumsily put together, I wanted to really show his thought process but its been almost 30k words since the last Rex POV chapter and both you and I would hate reading and writing every little thought

Getting the shit beaten out of you isn’t something that most people can say they are used to. As much as Rex hates to admit it, he has definitely started to get more than a little used to it. It was everyday hero business, another Tuesday, or Wednesday- whatever today is. A punch to the face? Elementary school shit. A bullet wound? He had more than he could count last year. A hand being separated from its limb? Well, that’s a little new… Gunshot to the head? What are the chances?

Seriously.

What are the chances of surviving this?

Rex wasn’t one to beg. Not for anything, and most assuredly not his life. There was a list of things he would be much more likely to beg for first. In the grand scheme of things, why should he care if he died? It’s not like he would live to regret it.

However, at this exact moment, as he rested heavily on his knees, breath coming out in heaves as his eyes trailed over the mutilated corpse belonging to one of Kate’s duplicates, he felt it. Like somehow, he was going to live to regret. Even as the metal pressed heavy against the back of his skull. As he feels the bullet enter the chamber, the click vibrating against him. It was over. He could practically feel the blood moving through his arm to escape from the massive mound of a wound left where his hand used to be. Small splattering sounds filled his hearing, drowned out only by the sound of rushing blood from within the confines of his head. There was no daring escape he could make or last-minute save. He was going to die. And somehow, he would still regret. More than he could think of in the split second before the bullet split through his head. But, that didn’t stop the images from flashing by.

Rex was sure he died, it was the only thought that could wreck through his mind as he gained consciousness. That was until he opened his eyes to see Cecil leaning against the counter in his hospital room.

If you die, and the first thing you see is Cecil Stedman, you definitely didn’t go up. Looking around the room his gaze landed on a metal sheath enclosed around his left arm. It all started to flood back. The fight, Kate, Rae, the feeling of his radius ramming through the skull of that blonde prick.

“Kate and Rae-?”

“Rae is going to be okay.” Cecil responded curtly, his jaw setting tightly.

The lack of mention towards Kate told Rex all he needed to know. He knew when it happened that there was no way she could have survived that. Even for how much they all seemed to escape death. Hell, he was even sure Rae was done for, he could still hear the sickening crack of her bones reverberating off the insides of his skull. He had been done for. Shot in the head. What were the chances?

“Killdeer saved your life. Or at least saved your mind, my guys weren’t sure they were going to be able to return you to-” He gestures at Rex in an unimpressed manner, “to this.” Cecil ended the statement with a firm look; he wasn’t there to coddle him or tell him it would be alright. He was there to tell him how things were going to be. Killdeer had saved Rex, even after everything. In other words, ‘I swear to god if you cause more problems in the team you’ll wish she hadn’t’. Even doped up on whatever painkillers were running through his system he could see Cecil’s hand.

It intrigued Rex that Cecil put this much effort into assuring the newest member’s seat in the Guardians. Or rather, it would intrigue him to look back on later, as he was a little out of it at the time being.

“Why?” His voice crackled with effort, he didn’t expect Cecil to be honest, but he asked nonetheless.

“Why wouldn’t she? Unless you’ve given her reason not to, hm?” Cecil straightened his tie absentmindedly, perhaps a way to occupy his hands. “You did good work, Rex. Stopped something that could have gotten very bad, very quickly. It was honorable.”

The praise pressed numbly to his ears, not something Rex was used to hearing from Cecil, but he still couldn’t find it in him to mentally accept it. This wasn’t a success. It was luck. Had the bullet been lodged a few centimeters to the left or right, they wouldn’t be talking right now. Kate was dead, and he had no idea how Rae was really doing.

“Is she still here?” He asked without thinking.

“She went home. She’ll be here again I’m sure. If you hadn’t noticed she has a knack for healing, this is kind of her area.” Well now he was just being mean. Rex fought to come up with a response but ended up just sinking further into his hospital bed, grunting softly. Cecil pushed himself off of the counter, seemingly ready to evacuate the room, before pausing. His back was still turned away, because of this Rex was unable to make out his expression. “It’s excruciatingly painful, by the way.”

“What is?” Rex asked.

“Healing. She finds it excruciatingly painful, especially when it comes to more serious injuries.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’m sure you’ll see her around. And I don’t want you to give her any of your usual shit.” The thought hadn’t had the chance to even cross his mind yet. “So, think about that before you try to form another conspiracy against her, yeah?”

“Well, you look like shit. And that’s coming from a guy who looks like this.” Rex gestures to all of himself.

Mark chuckles, “Heard you’re getting a new hand, too.”

“Yeah, lucky me.” Rex pauses for a moment, “How’s Rae?”

“Holding in there.” Mark responds shortly, settling himself on the edge of Rex’s bed.

A few seconds of silence pass between them. Rex runs his fingers absentmindedly over the cool metal encasing his arm, lining over the different ridges in the steel. After Cecil had left Rex had festered for a long while in the kind of person he had been. The kind of person he is.

The kind of person that Cecil feels the need to tell directly not to give the person who saved his life any shit. The kind of person who cheats on his girlfriend multiple times, even after she let him live with her for a year straight. The kind of person who is rightfully never anyone’s first choice for a mission.

He had been a dick. Rex knew he was a dick, often times he let himself relish in it a little. Really just roll in the shit. But, looking back, what had he truly accomplished? Saved a few cities a few times? He hadn’t even done it alone, that credit would have to be divided across multiple different heroes.

It was not enough to be super. A small voice inside his head had whispered it to him for years, but he pushed it down, drowned it out. Told himself he had a right not to be fully accountable for anything. After all the shit he had been through? It’s a miracle he was even still ‘one of the good guys’.

A bullet to the head quickly had that ideation crumpling in on itself. If he had died, no one would remember him for long. And it would be rightfully so.

“You know, when that bullet went through my head, I saw my life flash before my eyes.” He sat up, talking to the back of Mark’s head. “Yeah, that’s always sounded like bullshit to me, too, but…it’s not.” He frowned timidly. “And I didn’t like what I saw. I was such a dick to Kate. To Eve, too. To-” He mutters out your name, running his hand over his face with a groan. “To every woman I’ve ever been with. None of them deserved it. I don’t know why I had to get my brains blown out to see that.”

“What is it about being a superhero, where we go around saving lives, while ruining them at the same time?”

“Aw, Jesus.” Rex sighs, pushing himself up further. “All right, let’s hear it.”

“Hear what?”

“Eh. The reason your face looks all…like that. I don’t know, you know, sad and shit.”

Mark is practically pouting, his eyebrows creased upwards. He sighs before looking away, a hand idly rubbing his knuckles. “I’m not doing too hot in the dating field either.”

“You’re dating that one girl… uh Amber right?”

“I’m actually surprised you know that.” Mark gave him a semi-suspicious look.

“Okay, I can actually listen sometimes, I’m not always clueless.” Rex rolls his eyes, scrunching his nose.

“Yeah, Amber.” He affirms again, “I’m always having to leave her for whatever Cecil needs, or I’m gone for months at a time. I’m flunking out of college; I hardly have time for my best friend-”

“Woah okay, I’m not your therapist, maybe one issue at a time. What are you going to do about Amber?”

Mark lets out a labored breath. “It’s not fair to expect her to wait around, right?” He looks expectantly at Rex, who just stares back before realizing Mark wants a response, and then he just shrugs. “Viltrumites live for hundreds of years. Would it be fair even to waste a few months of her time now, when that could quickly turn to years of her life?”

“That’s assuming you survive your next big fight, Invincible.” Rex snorts, then wipes the smile off of his face at Mark’s scathing look. “Look, having a relationship is difficult even for normal people. And last I checked you’re not. I don’t want to be one of those assholes that tells you ‘if you truly love her, let her go’ or some shit, but,” He pauses. His infatuation with Killdeer was the first thing to spring forward in his mind as he was speaking. She couldn’t stand him; it wasn’t something he could really compare to Mark and Amber. But, in a way, it almost felt like he was disrespecting her by even thinking about her. If he wanted to mend anything between the two of them, he should just leave her alone. He can’t pull some shit like showing up to her apartment tipsy again. “Well, fuck, I guess my point is, do you think that a year from now anything will have changed?”

A beat. “I don’t see how it can…”

“Then maybe that’s your answer right there.”

Mark nods somberly, before slowly turning his gaze back to Rex. “This has been surprisingly insightful…how many painkillers do they have you on?”

“Not enough!” Rex groans, “Shit hurts.”

“Well, thanks, I guess, Rex.” Mark presses his lips together and another small awkward silence passes between them.

“Have you met the newbie?” It was out of the blue, unexpected, even to Rex as he said it.

“Hm?” Mark gave him an odd look. “Shapesmith?”

“No, not him, fuckin’ weirdo. Killdeer. Nurse, healing powers and shit.” He makes a gesture with his hands as if she’s a witch doing voodoo.

“Mmm, no I don’t think so. Why?”

Why had Rex asked? He wasn’t sure. Maybe he just wanted an excuse to talk about her. “Uh, well, I don’t know. You’re talking about Amber and I was trying to think of something equally interesting, you know, for the sake of conversation.”

“And you landed on a new member of the Guardians rather than the fact you’re sitting in a hospital room, with no hand and whatever that is on your head?”

“Okay, first of all, that’s old news, second of all, don’t get sassy with me, I’m missing an arm.”

“I thought that was old news.”

“Don’t push it, Grayson.”

Mark smiles to himself and leans back slightly. “Well, what about them?”

“Ah.” Rex chews on the inside of his cheek. “She’s just, well, she’s been a big topic around the headquarters, I guess.”

“Okay?” Mark raises a brow, cocking his head at Rex.

“Don’t make this fuckin’ weird man-”

“I’m not doing anything-!”

“You’re making me feel weird-!”

“No, I’m not!” Mark laughs, moving to a standing position. “I don’t know what all of this is about, but I bet I can guess.” Rex grumbles in response but doesn’t tell him he’s wrong. “Look man, you’re obviously learning to look back at your actions or- just keep that up. And move slow, or whatever.”

“I made her quit the Guardian’s.” Rex blurted, wincing to himself.

“What?” Mark sighed, his shoulders dropping.

Which led to him sitting back down and Rex spilling completely about everything Mark had missed while he was away. Which Rex realized was a lot now that he was saying it all in quick succession. And none of it was making him look too good.

“Oh.” Mark was looking off into the corner of the room processing. “Well, that’s unique.”

“And on top of all that, Cecil just told me she’s the reason I’m still alive.”

“And I thought me and Amber had issues.”

“Don’t compare this to you and Amber, you and Amber are dating.” Rex groaned.

“This is a lot of drama for two people who aren’t together…You went to her apartment?” Mark squinted at him.

“Ugh.” Rex shrunk further into his bed.

Less than a ten percent chance. He had looked it up the moment Mark left his hospital room. There was a less than ten percent chance that he could have survived a bullet to the brain. It ran over and over in his head as he looked at the magazines Eve had brought for him.

“Oh, hello.” Eve’s voice which hadn’t sounded off for a minute after he told her that Mark and Amber were kaput, snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Hi, sorry, is this a bad time?”

Already? It’s suddenly a bit harder to breathe, his chest constricting tightly even though he couldn’t quite make her out from where Eve was sitting. Killdeer was visiting. She had come to speak with him. Between Mark, Eve, and this new visitor, Rex was starting to wonder if he wasn’t as big of an asshole as he thought. Obviously, he had done something right if anyone was still giving a semblance of a shit.

“You look like shit.”

Huh. Maybe a little less than a semblance. Regardless, the relief he felt at knowing that she would visit was tremendous, more than he expected.

Twenty bucks my ass. There was no way these were worth even five bucks. He was being conned, he could feel it in every bone of his body. But twenty bucks is nothing in the grand scheme of things if it means she’ll keep visiting. He would pay much, much more.

“Does it feel the same?” She’s running a finger over each of his hands. Her skin trailed almost agonizingly gentle over his.

Fuck yes it felt the same. It felt like fucking fire is what it felt like. Uncomfortable burning traveling up his arms directly to his spine. But he didn’t want her to stop, in fact, he couldn’t think of a single thing he wanted less than that specific tingling in this exact moment. “Uh…Yeah pretty- I’d say pretty similar.” His mouth felt dry, and he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes.

She didn’t pull back, her eyes glued to his hands. He could practically feel his heartbeat edging towards racing. Hopefully, she can’t feel it, with all of her weird powers and shit. Cool fingertips brush over his knuckles, causing his hand to clench against his own wishes. He felt oddly shaky; this wasn’t him at all. Whenever he liked someone, he made a move and he made it quickly. What was holding him back? He didn’t want her to leave. To stop visiting. God, he was losing his touch. At one point he had felt like he could have anyone he wanted. He could talk the talk and had never once been turned down. But with her… He just couldn’t seem to wrap his head around truly wanting her. After everything he had put her through, and his own conflicting feelings.

He could still hear Kate in his head, scolding him for trying to sleep with every woman he came across. He felt like he wasn’t good enough, not worthy. It was a new feeling for him.

He’s grown to respect you. And for him, that sucks.

Rex wasn’t sleeping well. Not that he would admit that to anyone. The last thing he needed was some loser telling him he needed to see a fucking shrink. He had made it through life so far perfectly fine on his own…well, minus the whole asshole thing. But he was managing to get better on his own. Right?

He had stumbled through an apology to Killdeer, it wasn’t one of his finest moments, but he knew he needed to do it. She had been drawing away from him. Which part of him thought was for the best. Another, much louder part, wanted her to never leave his bedside. He was surprisingly content. She listened to every stupid story he dawdled on about, and whenever she asked him something he answered or did as she said right away. He didn’t want to give her any reason to remember how much time she had wasted talking with him.

When she had asked to see his new hand again, and then again after that, he was a little taken aback, but he obliged. This proved to be borderline torture. He could feel her. Every touch, every scrape. He had to force his way through thoughts, constantly talking to try distracting from the feeling. She just hummed quietly, full attention on his hand. And thank god for that. Rex had shifted three times now, drawing one of his legs up higher to lift the blanket with it. As determined as he was not to make things weird between them, his body was definitely reacting to her. Another aspect of the torture. This practically felt like foreplay for Pete’s sake.

If he wasn’t kept awake in a purgatory of tossing and turning thinking about her, he was reliving his worst moments in his sleep. At first, it was just the moments before he had been shot. Every detail of the room was imprinted on his subconscious. Then it started to evolve. Other regrets started to push their way forward, sometimes the person behind the gun was an old target of his. Other times he was the one behind the gun, familiar but blurry faces passing by in front of him.

His most recent dream had ended in Killdeer being the one before him. This time it was different. The others had been alive, begging for their lives. She was silent, facing away. The sound of droplets hitting the floor were clear even after he woke up. He said something, something he couldn’t remember. Maybe for her to look at him, stand up, run, do something. But instead, she started slouching forward, the droplets increasing until they sounded like a waterfall. Rushing, pushing, drowning. Blood was filling the room like a flood, pushing up towards his ankles. He couldn’t move, only could watch in horror. It rose steadily, licking up the legs of his suit, warm, unpleasant. Killdeer who was slouched forward on her knees before the gun only slid forward more and more. The crown of her head slowly became lost as the liquid crept higher.

He woke up holding one of the dingy hospital pillows flesh with his chest. Arms wrapped tightly around it, a sheen of sweat covering him head to toe.

One mission. That’s all he needed. Rex needed to be in it all again, he needed to prove to himself and everyone else that he was capable.

All fine and dandy until a behemoth with tentacles was throwing him straight through a metal storage crate. Which hurts a lot, by the way. At first, it felt like adrenaline, completely normal when a giant Davy Jones akin monster is actively trying to murder you. Then it started to get hard to breathe, hard to aim. The last metal disk Rex threw at it flew right over his shoulder, only helpful by the smoke cloud it left. This offered enough cover for him to slide over another crate, pressing his back firmly to the hard green metal.

“Don’t do this. Come on, come on, don’t do this to me.” He held his manufactured hand by the wrist, trying to force away the tremors. He tried to take a deep breath, filling his chest with oxygen, only for it to be forced out with another tremor. “You’ve done this a hundred times-” Probably not the best time to be having a vocal pep talk. He can hear the giant throwing different crates in search of him.

“Fuck-” He shouldn’t be on a solo mission yet. Joy was right, she was worried, and she was right. Not that he would ever admit that in a million years. His breathing continued to come out in labored heaving; it was becoming harder to focus his vision.

He needed to stop this before he lost control. The last thing he needed was to pass out midbattle, he was better than this.

“You did adequate. Very promising, Rex. A good soldier.” No, not him. The last person he wanted to think about was that prick.

Rex shook the memory of Radcliffe from his mind, searching through memories, anything to take his mind off this.

“You did good work, Rex.” No, not Cecil either.

“I do everything you wish you could. And that’s rich coming from a guy called Rex Splode.” Bulletproof. Less helpful.

Rex pushed a hand up under his goggles, gloved fabric blocking his vision. He was getting more lightheaded, it hurt to breathe.

“Seriously, Rex?” Eve.

“Asshole-” “Prick-”- He could only seem to conjure negative interactions, there was such a multitude to choose from-

“Thank you.” It’s softer, barely audible over the other memories. But it’s enough to catch his full attention. Cold grey ceilings, hardly visible through the shadows of headquarters. Bright blue lighting. His fingers thrummed gently against the steel floor, a melody he hadn’t been able to place in years. “For pushing me out of the way earlier.” He glances up to see the crown of her head. She’s staring up, chest rising slowly in shallow breaths.

“You probably would have been fine anyways…You know, injuries and all.”

“Just because I can heal it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. So still, thank you.”

Rex lets his hand slide down from his eyes, working to take controlled breaths. It’s becoming easier, his hands are still shaking but he doesn’t feel like he’s going to immediately pass out if he stands anymore.

A crash sounds out closer to where he’s sitting, forcing him to stand up. He’s got this. He’s a fucking Guardian. A bullet to the head didn’t even take him out. This won’t be his last fight, and yesterday sure as hell wasn’t the last time he would ever see her. He was sure of that.

“You’re welcome.”

Of course, she didn’t ask him. He just hadn’t expected her to ask Bulletproof of all people. Were they close in some capacity? It doesn’t matter now. The world is traveling by tens of thousands of feet below. A soft snore every few minutes takes him out of the zone, and Rex is tempted to start throwing things at the culprit. He wants to look back, shoot a pointed glare even though Bulletproof isn’t awake to see that. But in doing that he’ll end up looking at her. Something he’s been avoiding doing for at least an hour. He’s actually not sure how long it’s been. It feels like it’s been forever.

The file on their gracious benefactor hung loosely in his hand. Of all people it could have been why did it have to be her? Mune wasn’t even her real name. He doubted that many people still alive knew that though.

A quick glance down revealed that the edges of the file were completely crumpled in his tight grip. So, he disposed of it under the seat in front of him. He’d pick it up later.

He shifted his attention to something else before the unpleasant memories could completely flood back. Jealousy isn’t something entirely foreign to Rex. When he was dating Eve, he constantly would work himself up over every interaction she brought up with another guy. He practically convinced himself, alongside Kate, that Eve was getting with Mark. Another asshole tendency of his that he was working on. The fact that Killdeer had brought up Invincible in a good light several times now wasn’t getting to him. Seriously it wasn’t.

Well, maybe it kind of was.

…

It definitely was, alright? Happy?

Except he knows he has no right to be jealous. The two of them aren’t…well, they’re not anything. Not dating, not- Well he doesn’t know what else, but the point is there’s nothing between him and her.

If he could go back to the night he showed up at her apartment, he wondered if he would have kissed her knowing what he knew now. He had wanted to then, but not in the way he wanted to now. Before he was confused by it, there was attraction, but he never could place quite why. Blamed it on her powers, or even the fact he hadn’t gotten laid in so long. Now it was different. He wanted her. Not just to kiss her, or have some lousy one-night stand. He wanted to be near her, have a true excuse to do things with her now that he was out of the hospital. He wanted to let her trace her touch over his as often as she wanted. He wanted to come back from a mission and sink down onto one of the couches in the rec room next to her while she messaged Cecil about whatever they messaged so much about. He wanted her.

But, he didn’t deserve her. He couldn’t have her. Could he?

“I’m gonna get dressed.” Her voice broke through his thoughts, causing him to jolt slightly.

“Okay.”

“Do you dance, Rex?” A simple, innocent question. One he had known the answer to immediately, of course he didn’t dance. It had never even crossed his mind before tonight. Since the night started, however, it had been near the top of his priorities. Any chance he got between idle small talk he was glancing over at the dance floor, taking mental notes.

Where did the lead put his hands, how did they step, turn, twist? It was overwhelming, but he was determined to get it down-pat. Her question had saved him from having to blunder his way through asking.

And dance they did. The grass was uneven and almost caused Rex to roll an ankle more than once. He felt silly, haphazardly. The hand he had placed on her hip was hard to rip his concentration from. The way he could feel the heat through the silk of her dress, the way she stared at him and followed his lead. In hindsight, if he was so determined to not make things weird maybe he shouldn’t have asked her to dance. Because the only thing he could truly focus on was the way her lips curved around every word, every smile, and every laugh.

“You look…” Don’t cross that line, this is not a casual thing to say. “You look beautiful tonight.” Christ. “By the way.” Once it’s said there is no way to pull the words back in. They hung between the two dancers like fog.

“Don’t tease, I’m not an idiot.” What? He was practically working himself into an aneurism while forcing the words out. And she was just taking it as another one of his jokes. He would have bristled, been upset at how she completely missed his sincerity. How much he had meant it, and how much he had wanted to say it since she first walked into his hospital room. And maybe even before that, but everything before that was far too confusing for him to unravel. Instead of doing any of that, his eyes trailed down her face, the temptation returning once again.

“Tease?” It wasn’t a tease. It was cold, hard fact. He could show her. Show her just how much he meant it, how she makes him feel. Glancing up their eyes meet, he can feel his pulse quicken, burning his veins. A tension falls on the two of them and he has to consciously resist the urge to tighten his grip on her hip.

Her lips parted, to scold, chide, rebuke, something. At least that’s what he expected, but whatever she was going to say died at her lips. Only the sound of the faint music curls around them, providing the smallest semblance of release from the loaded silence that threatened to swallow Rex whole.

He should ask. There’s no way she doesn’t feel it, right? It’s the only thing he can feel, she’s the only thing he can feel. He needs to-

“So, can I get that dance?” Oh, fuck off!

Her hand immediately leaves Rex’s shoulder as she turns to the voice. Some rich-looking asshole, just like every other rich asshole here.

“You said I could have one if you decided to dance, and from the looks of it, you just did.”

Not just did, asshole. Still are. Go away.

“Uh- Yeah, okay, just give me a moment.” He was still holding onto her other hand as she glanced back. Her expression searched his, waiting for…something. But he just stared back, his stomach clenching unpleasantly as she unraveled her grasp from his. As she heads up the stairs she turns back. “Thank you.”

Any possible words die in his throat, he just stares. It’s pathetic. He should joke, quip, something. Say good riddance! I was getting tired of dancing. Even though it would have been a lie. He could have stayed on that grass with you for hours.

A small stretch of silence passes with Rex standing at the bottom of the stairs. He taps his index finger against the thigh of his slacks. Stupid. Just- well it’s just stupid.

Rex walked around the side of the outer wall, the brisk air cutting through his dress shirt. Going back into the ballroom to watch her dance with some other guy was not at the top of his to-do list. Coward. He should have done something, said something. He didn’t even display displeasure at her going off to dance with some other man. He should have-

A glint catches his eye from inside one of the windows, it could have been anything. A guest entering the wrong room looking for the bathroom, a fucking…cat? He doesn’t know, but he gets an uneasy feeling. Continuing forward, he notes on the outside which room it is. A few servers pass him with polite smiles and trays bearing champagne. With the kind of night he’s having, he grabs a glass as they pass. There was another entrance into the house through a door to the kitchen, or a kitchen at least. Several workers sat on another set of stairs leading up to it, smoking cigarettes on their breaks. They paid Rex no mind, easily letting him pass. Once inside he weaved his way past another handful of workers grabbing another glass on his way out, until he was back in the hallway.

Was it four rooms over or five? He quickened his pace, reaching back at his side out of habit to where his various expendables usually were. Of course, he was wearing a different type of suit tonight, so his hand didn’t make contact with anything. A planter resided outside the first door he planned on checking, small decorative rocks laid on top of the soil. Good enough, he grabbed a handful and placed the mostly full champagne glass haphazardly on the rocks, hoping it wouldn’t spill. After a few short strides he is slowly wrapping his hand around the doorknob.

It was nothing, there wasn’t going to be anyone in the room. He was just worked up from whatever weird feelings he was feeling before-

See? Wasn’t that easy?

It’s soft, muffled. Someone had turned on their transmitter.

I have men stationed throughout the house ready to turn this into a blood bath. Get me Mune, alone, in one of the rooms, and we won’t open fire.

Shit. Which line was that coming from? It wasn’t hers, right? His free hand gripped tighter on the rocks within his grasp.

You must know who I am, which means you must know I am not here alone.

His heart sank. Of course it was her. It couldn’t have been Lance or one of his pricks with the bulletproof vests.

Oh, yes.

Rex was already letting go of the handle, ready to sprint into the ballroom.

Then you must know this is futile. You’re bringing guns to a fight where your opponents are atomic bombs. In what world do you get what you want and waltz out of here?

Fuck. The men. The guy said there were men stationed around. Rex saw something in that room. He could have easily seen the reflection of their gear.

I have no intentions of leaving.

Whoever had control of Killdeer’s comms knew his identity. If he went to the ballroom, he’d most likely shoot her, if he had a gun. It would be fucking stupid to try pulling this unarmed. And then he would most likely move on to one of the less super-abled guests. Shit, shit, shit. Why couldn’t he run probabilities like Rudy could?

Shooting me won’t help your case.

So, he has a gun.

It’ll sure hurt though. And eventually, you’ll die, and if not, I’ll have plenty of fun seeing if you can.

Who cares about the safety of the fuckin’ guests, he’s going there, NOW.

How did you-

Static crosses over her words, replaced by the familiar ring of Bulletproof’s, they must be blocking her frequency.

Rex, I see at least one bogey over here. I’m near the west wing. Where are you, man?

Rex stopped mid-sprint, a few feet away from the door he had just been about to investigate. “Fuck- I… I don’t know, this fucking house is nuts.”

Oh, come on! Are you seriously sightseeing right now? You’ve got to be-

“No, I wasn’t fucking sightseeing.” Rex hissed low in response. “I thought I saw something.”

What was it?

“I haven’t checked yet-”

Well fucking get on it! We don’t know how many of these guys there are around.

Rex could hear the music crescendo down the hall, he wasn’t that far, he could follow the music... Instead, he turned back to the door, rolling his shoulders before he walked back up to it, and swung it open.

He could pretend to be another drunk looking for the bathroom, get a leg up on them. It was some kind of sitting room, very dimly lit. Couches with fancy stitching and embroidering were circled around an intricate wooden table. Two men were spread out on in opposite corners, wearing tactical gear similar to Lance’s group before they dressed up.

“Whoops, this isn’t the bathroom-”

One of them is already raising their gun, pointing it directly at him. Not the time, apparently. He charges the rocks, sending them out before him in a controlled explosion. Enough to cause a smoke covering. Now would be an excellent time to have his goggles. Darting behind one of the couches, he tries to listen to where they were after the commotion. Loud boots against the carpet proved to be the only indicator in the already dark room as to where they were located.

One of the men closest to him came up to the couch, Rex couldn’t see where he was but jumped forward at the sound anyways. He collided with the man’s legs, bringing him crashing to the ground, hitting a side table from the sounds of it on the way down. He’s close enough to Rex for him to make out through the slowly clearing smoke that he’s reaching for a knife at his side. Running on pure instinct he pushes the man’s hand up. Forcing the blade into the soft skin under his chin.

Gurgles fill the air around them as the smoke completely dissipates. The other man is standing just a foot or two away, his gun held up. At the sight of his teammate flailing in a pool of his own blood, he hesitates. Enough for Rex to rocket himself up, forcing the gun from the assailant’s grasp. Off balance, they both tumble over the back of one of the couches. Rex fights his way on top, gripping the front of the man’s outfit, then slamming his knuckles into the man’s face. Once, then twice, then a third time, followed by a sickening crack. And for a moment Rex is back in that building, his bloodied arm ramming into the King Lizard’s head. Wiping that snide fuckin’ look off of his face-

A crack, loud and clear. Splitting pain in his side sends him slamming his opposite side into the coffee table. “Fuck!” He draws it out with a shaky inhale. Recovering quickly, he looks up to see a third person entering from the doorway.

She looks around, her eyes locking on the sight of the man now dead and forgotten on the other side of the couch. It’s cool, calculated, her gaze turns back to Rex, and she holds the gun tighter, keeping it trained on him. “Die.”

Well, that’s a comfort. He rolls as fast as he can, another shot embedded in the coffee table behind him. The other guy’s gun is just within his grasp. What are the chances he reaches it in time? His fingertips are brushing against the butt of it, he can hear her moving to where she can aim better.

“Shit-“ He groans, pushing himself up further with his elbow and finally grasping it. He lifted it up just as she was coming into view and-

Hopefully none of this shit was horribly valuable. The blood is never coming out of those cushions.

Rex pushes himself up, sucking air through his teeth as the movement tweaks his fresh wound.

I’ve got two taken down in the west wing.

We took down one near the bedrooms.

Exiting out the door he looked up and down the hall, not sure what he was expecting.

What about Rex? Where’s Rex?

She was okay. The tension in his shoulders lifted briefly as he tried to catch his breath, placing a hand against his side. Another worker was passing by with a platter of drinks headed towards the ballroom.

Does anyone have eyes on Rex?

He panted out each breath, straightening up against the pain blossoming at his side. “What wing is this?”

The worker slows and gives him a confused look which spreads into a knowing smile. “The east wing, sir.” Christ, he think’s your drunk. Rex gives him a tight smile as a gesture of thanks, then waits for the waiter to continue on.

“Got three of those fuckers in the east wing.” He lowers his hand from the comm unit in his ear and lets out a groan, steadying himself against the plant he had grabbed the rocks from. His champagne glass still sitting where he left it.

Author's note: Small change to Rex’s dialogue in the show. Specifically, “to every woman I’ve ever dated” To “every woman I’ve ever been with.” Cause lowkey I head canon that Eve is the only person he’s ever actually dated. Not counting the people he’s slept with. Rex truthers how we feeling tonight?

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 @0ut0fsweets @sugaramped @spidernuggets @sweet-cuddlebug @ohmysoultakemysoul @lapisbwub @velovicy @liquideyes @insirecrate @isnotraven request to be tagged for new parts!

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spidernuggets · 14 days ago

Text

Crawling Back to You

Chapter eighteen

Synopsis: This isn’t your first rodeo anymore. You’re growing confident in your abilities, and you know what you’re capable of. Does anyone else? (The Gala Pt. 2)

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Chapter: 18/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: Mild Descriptions of Blood and Wounds

Note: There are two unintentional puns in this chapter. I had a large section of this written out in my notes app for a long while, 😛Ya’ll know exactly what I'm doing here

The other man led you inside, his grip on your hand much rougher than Rex’s had been. You were a few steps away from the assigned dance area when you realized you still had Rex’s coat. “Oh, crap I should probably-” You took a step back pulling the coat off from around your shoulders. It could have been an attempt to go back, to will him to do or say something, you could come back and dance with this guy after.

“Eh, just place it on the table over there, you can give it to him after our dance, okay?”

You nod begrudgingly, obviously not about to get out of this without raising suspicions. So, you follow him onto the dance floor, he takes your hand and places his other on your hip the exact way Rex had, but his touch inspires nothing in you. This whole excursion has returned to being just another job.

“So, what do you do for work?”

“I don’t.” You say it offhandedly, repeating the same charade you had told multiple people tonight when asked the same question. “I have the privilege of not having to work.” You didn’t divulge further, more information than was necessary would come across like rehearsing from a script.

He hums, “Housewife?”

You take a shallow breath, trying to remember to stay in character. “No.”

He hums again, this time it feels almost antagonistic, his hand gripping tighter on yours. “I hear that those who have that kind of privilege have a lot of time for charity work like this. Is that true?”

“I suppose.”

“Charity is so rewarding, don’t you agree? I love to help people in any way I can. If I have time, I even take visits to the hospital, it’s good to provide companion care, is it not?” You nod distractedly, glancing out at the other dancers, as you both shift with the music. “I just wish I could go in and heal every one of them. Do you ever get that feeling?”

You blinked a few times and then turned your gaze back to him, your brow furrowing.

“What?”

“Go ahead, turn on your earpiece so I can talk to them. This is exciting, isn’t it?” His eyes widen on ‘exciting’ and you feel your blood run cold.

“What was it you said your name was?”

“I didn’t, be a good girl and turn it on, yeah?”

You grit your teeth, it was unlikely he was alone. You needed him to reveal who his partners were before you did anything. Reaching your hand up you press down so you are transmitting.

“See? Wasn’t that easy?” He grabs your face and angles your head to talk directly in your ear.

“I have men stationed throughout the house ready to turn this into a blood bath. Get me Mune, alone, in one of the rooms, and we won’t open fire.”

You are met with silence, most likely because they aren’t sure if the man will be able to hear them conversing or not.

“You must know who I am, which means you must know I am not here alone.” You speak, trying to stop the malice from overtaking your tone.

“Oh, yes.”

“Then you must know this is futile. You’re bringing guns to a fight where your opponents are atomic bombs. In what world do you get what you want and waltz out of here?”

“I have no intentions of leaving.” His eyes glinted, and you felt a pressure placed against your abdomen, no doubt a gun of some sort. He obviously didn’t know everything about you.

“Shooting me won’t help your case.” You bite out, the orchestra still playing loudly.

“It’ll sure hurt though.” He presses it firmer against you, his other hand still leading you in the dance you almost forgot you were both partaking in. “And eventually you’ll die, and if not, I’ll have plenty of fun seeing if you can.”

“How did you get those weapons in here? There were screenings on every individual guest.”

“It’s an awfully big house, you’d be surprised how many hiding places there are.”

“So, you came in before the gala, planted the weapons, then came as guests?”

“What is this, detective hour?” He seems to be growing tired of your questions, his gaze flickering over the other people around you, flashing a fake smile.

“No, I just want the facts straight for when the police arrive.” You scowl at him.

“You seem very self-assured-” His words are cut off with a quiet gurgle, the aggravating smirk dying at his lips. You don’t move, watching coldly as his body goes ridged during his attempted statement. The revolver he had pressed against you he pulls back in a jerky movement placing it back into his waistband. His eyes moments before that were cocky and arrogant now shined with fear, confusion.

“Are you feeling okay?” You say it loudly, loud enough for a few couples nearby to look over. But your expression doesn’t reflect any of the concern that seeps through your voice, contempt is the last thing he sees before he shrivels to the ground, leaving your head feeling raw.

Several people look over in concern, and you blink before putting on your best act. “Oh! Sorry! One too many drinks!” You give an apologetic shrug with an awkward laugh. “Could any of you help me move him off the floor?” A few people come by and move him to a corner, laying him down and commenting things along the lines of ‘this isn’t some college frat party’.

You blurt out your apologies and thanks as they walk away, and then hold your hand up to your ear to make sure your earpiece is still running. “This one’s taken care of. Have you located all the gunmen yet?”

A few seconds passed.

I’ve got two taken down in the west wing.

We took down one near the bedrooms.

Bulletproof’s voice then quickly followed by Lance’s both sounded off. The music crescendos louder, causing you to hold a hand over your other ear so you can hear. “What about Rex? Where’s Rex?”

You snap your head back at a loud sound, someone dropping a chair or knocking over one of the cocktail tables, maybe? You could hardly hear it over the bellowing music.

“Does anyone have eyes on Rex?” You paced over to the backdoor to see if he was still standing there, stepping over the stone of the patio and looking out over the garden.

A lengthened silence beats by. With every second you start to feel more and more sick. Just as you open your mouth to repeat yourself another voice calls out over the comms.

Got three of those fuckers in the east wing.

You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice, then rested your hands on your hips, taking a few deep breaths.

Authorities are on their way, bring all of them to the room I debriefed you in. We don’t want the guests to panic. We’re running a sweep for any explosives as we speak.

“I’m going to need some people to come to the ballroom. I can’t pull this guy out myself without drawing a lot of attention.” You head back into the designated area, whispering apologies to people who had come to stare at the man’s unconscious stature.

Sending men your way.

“Thanks.” You turn off your earpiece and finally look down at the man. “Jackass. Couldn’t have waited five more minutes to pull me into this fucking scheme?”

Two men had come to ‘help’ you carry away the leader. When you entered the debriefing room Zandale was standing over five men, all incapacitated in one way or another. Rex was dragging in the last man from his area, and with yours added on it made seven people total.

“Do you know who these people are?” You cross your arms over your torso, feeling far too overdressed to be standing in what felt like a crime scene.

Lance simply shrugged, after barking out a command to one of his men. “Probably someone disgruntled by any number of Dr. Mune’s works. They aren’t the first and it is very unlikely they will be the last.”

Bulletproof takes a few steps towards you, his hands resting on his hips. “Did you get the name of the leader?”

“I didn’t ask.” You shrugged, looking down at him, face relaxed from his state of unconsciousness. You could kick him.

“How did you manage to neutralize him without alerting any of the other guests?” Lance asked, reaching down to pull the man’s revolver from his waistband.

“He must have got overexcited.” You murmured, an awful answer but hopefully with the amount of excitement so far no one would think about it for long. You glanced over at Rex who had settled against the ledge of one of the desks. A pang of guilt flashed over you as you remembered his coat long forgotten, a few rooms away. The feeling was overshadowed as your eyes trailed down to his side. Red tinged the seam of his suit vest, dark towards the center and fanning out lighter around it. “What’s that?” Rex froze as if being caught with his hand in a cookie jar and then followed your line of sight to his side.

“Oh, that’s…uh that’s not mine.” He scratched the side of his face, glancing up at you with a sheepish grin.

“…Really?” You raised a brow at him, quickly closing the gap, your hands coming out to open his vest. Once you were closer you could clearly see ripping in the fabric. An entry wound. “You got shot?”

“Only a little, seriously I’m fucking fine.” He pushes your hands away, leaning back further against the desk as if to evade you.

“Goddamn it, Rex. Let me see it, you’re losing blood.”

“I’ve been through a lot worse, Joy-”

“I swear to god, if you don’t let me assess you-” Rex throws an awkward glance at the people standing behind you, they were probably watching the small commotion, but you didn’t care. He didn’t get to be a martyr right now. “Do we need to go somewhere else?” You whisper the question to him, maybe he’s embarrassed in some kind of way. He took down as many men as the others had combined together. To you, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. But you didn’t care about any of that, if he was injured, which he obviously was, it was your duty to help him.

“Joy.” He breathed out with a laugh, looking at you like you were joking, the smile fading when your expression didn’t falter.

“We’ll be right back.” You turn to the group behind you before grabbing Rex’s hand and practically dragging him out of the room behind you. While searching for a nearby empty room you did not look back or speak to Rex. The initial shock of him being once again injured has worn away into irritation. Not only did he not come to you about it. But he explicitly tried to hide it from you. Not very well, but still, the intention was there.

After passing by a few rooms that you had to back out of with an apology to whatever random people were loitering in, you finally found one that was empty. High shelves lined up the walls and across columns throughout the room. Books with every color spine lining each shelf, accented by different busts and artwork. A library. It was dim, only the light coming in from outside and the light flickering under the door illuminated the area. You pushed down the urge to look around and turned to face Rex, who had been entirely silent for the short journey. He looked surprisingly calm, his expression soft, and his lips slightly parted.

“Okay, I need to see.” You dropped his hand, noting how he held on a few seconds longer. Another thing to think about later. Steady fingers come up to unbutton his vest, pushing it off over his shoulders, then moving to his dress shirt. You can feel his breath on your hands, heavy, uneven. Anxiety fills you with the prospect of him having lost more blood than you thought if he is having this labored of breathing.

Peeling away the white dress shirt you look closer at his wound, pushing your hand against his chest to angle his torso out more. The bullet had ripped through his left lumbar region, no exit wound. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself, glancing around as if supplies would magically appear. “I don’t have any of my stuff. But- that’s fine, I could do it without, just would have made it a bit easier-”

Rex’s expression tightens as if he is just realizing your intent to heal him, even though you had expressed it earlier. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, what?” Your hand that currently rested splayed on his chest shifts, pulling a hair’s width away.

“I don’t want you to heal me.” His gaze meets you for a few beats, and you feel your defenses start to rise.

“I thought we were over this, Rex.” You bite out the words, emotion lacing your tone. “I thought you were trying to be better.” The edges of your mouth curls into an expression close to disdain.

“I am.” His brows lift in hurt as if your word’s stinging him.

“Really? Cause this is the same shit I’ve had to deal with since the beginning. Always thinking about yourself, and your- your stupid pride, ego-” You step back, placing your hands on your hips.

“I’m not always thinking about myself, this isn’t about me-!” Your name leaves his mouth at the end of the exclamation. He holds his hands out in exasperation before running them through his short hair, a groan forced from his lips as the movement tweaks his injury.

“How, Rex? How isn’t this about you?”

He pauses, his eyes dropping to the floor.

“How!”

“It’s about you! Alright?” His tone is low, in a whisper, but he still spits it out with effort.

You blink a few times, confusion flickering across your features. Your arms drop from where they were perched at your hips. “What?”

“I know! I know what it takes for you to heal people, I know about the strain, I know about the pain, all of it.” He runs a hand over his face, then continues. “I’m not having you put yourself through that for something this menial.”

Menial? He was fucking shot! “Don’t worry about me-” You start, holding an accusatory finger out at him.

“I’m going to worry about you, okay!” He practically snarls it out.

You take a step back, not out of fear, but out of habit. Any time you had ever experienced confrontation like this you had given in, backed down. You weren’t going to give in as easily this time.

“I’m not some junior varsity hero, Rex. I’m a fucking Guardian, same as you.” The statement leaves your tongue in a bitter tone.

“Fuck, I know that I know. This has nothing to do with your abilities or-” His tone softens, and he takes a step forward, looking almost apologetic.

“It’s always been about my fucking abilities with you, Rex. When has it not?” You snap before he can finish his statement, stepping forward so that you are completely back up to him, entirely in his space. “If it wasn’t about my abilities, it was about me, fundamentally! I’m either a glorified nurse or an incompetent- fucking-” You stutter, trying to piece anything together through your anger, “I don’t know, a fucking idiot I suppose!”

“I don’t think you’re-”

“If you truly respected me, as a hero, as a Guardian, as your fucking friend then this wouldn’t be a question.” You hiss it out in a hushed tone as you hear people walk by the room, then continue once they are gone. “But you don’t, and I don’t know why.” You trail off in a mutter. Both of you are right up against each other, if you tried to step forward you would be standing on his toes. “What do you want from me, Rex? What is it? ‘Cause I’m growing tired of this dance.”

“I want-” He looks away sighing heavily, then continues in a lower tone. “I want you…”

There’s a pause, you wait for him to finish his thought, irritation still bubbling under the surface.

“You want me…?” You urge him forward through his thoughts.

He looks at you, and for a moment your anger fades minutely. It is just the two of you. The man who pointed out different types of countertops in a home design magazine, voice etched with excitement. The man who volunteered to go on this mission with you, who helped you zip your dress, who danced with you in the grass. The man you were falling for. But he was also the man who spent months actively working against you. Scoffing out your name every time you were brought up by another member. He was changing, you were sure of it, you’d seen the proof. As angry as you were now, you didn’t hate him. But he obviously still held resentment towards you, no matter how small. Or this wouldn’t be a discussion.

“I want you.” He looked down at you, brow furrowed tightly.

“What, Rex, you want me to what?” Frustration oozes through your words as you look up at him.

“Fucking-” He takes a step back, running his hands over his face again. “I want you to not be in fucking pain because of me.” He sucks on his teeth, looking out past you.

You sigh heavily, shaking your head. “Fine, Rex. Do what you want. I don’t care.” You hold your hands up to metaphorically wash your hands of the situation. “You should see if Lance has anything to dress that though. Or it’s going to be a long night.” You turn and leave him standing alone in the library.

When you return to the debriefing room there are several new faces, all sporting officer’s uniforms. Dr. Mune was standing talking to one, while others brought stretchers for the dead and wounded. It was a miracle to you how no one from the gala had seen the commotion and started spreading the word. Mune catches sight of you and holds a hand up for you to wait for her. She continues with a quick back-and-forth to the officer, then approaches you.

“They always ruin my fun; I have to bring the event to a close in order for everything to be cleaned up for the brunch tomorrow. Apparently, Mr. Sloane made quite a mess in one of the dining rooms.” One of the dining rooms. Her tone lowers, “I liked how you dealt with Robbie. Very discrete, Merlin.”

You squinted at her, how much had Cecil really relayed to her about you? “Who was he?”

“A ghost from my past, like they always are.” She looks down through her spectacles over to where the man is being loaded onto a stretcher. “This particular one actually worked at the GDA. I’m surprised Mr. Sloane didn’t recognize him. They were in the same program.”

“Program?” You shook your head.

“Mm, Robbie was a few years ahead I suppose, one of the first trials. The chip didn’t take with him.”

You looked at her closer, your brows knitted closely together. “I’m sorry, I’m not following.”

“Hm, I’m surprised you didn’t know. Have you never read Mr. Sloane’s files?”

You cringed at the memory, the general upset that had been caused when it was revealed you had. “Yes, but I only skimmed most of them, and there was quite a bit redacted. I mostly only had access to the extent of other members’ powers, or their drawbacks.”

“Well, my dear Merlin. Mr. Sloane only has his abilities because of my work. I designed the neural chip that gives him his…well, I suppose you could say his spark.” She flutters her hands in an over-the-top gesture.

“He wasn’t born with them?” You knew that there were heroes around who only had powers because of genetic modification, but you hadn’t thought it was very common.

She paused to look at you, taking off her spectacles. “To be truly born with naturally occurring powers is very rare. In all my years I could count on one hand the number I know of that were flukes.”

“I guess I would understand why so many people would want to gain them artificially.” You nod, the sound of the door opening causing you to look back. Rex had finally decided to enter, not looking at you and making a B-line to Lance. Hopefully to ask for medical attention, or at least a medipack.

“I don’t.” She states bluntly. “Just because a curse has its ups, doesn’t change that at the end of the day, it is still just a curse.”

“If that’s how you view it, why did you work to bring it about?” Your brows raise a centimeter, analyzing her reaction.

“Sometimes it takes a few decades to truly see the effect of your work.” Her tone was tired, her attention was shifted to where Rex was standing talking to Lance.

“Would you go back and undo it all?”

She sighs gently. “I have no way of knowing the outcome would be better if I did that, so no. But I wish I could go back and tell myself how it ends.”

You nodded quietly, watching as the last body was removed from the room. Smears of blood streaked across the center of the floor where some of them had been dragged slightly into the pile. With each day that passed, you understood her more and more.

With all the bodies gone, and the explosive sweep coming back clear it was time to nudge the guests towards leaving. Dr. Mune gave a tasteful speech about having the class to know when the host wants you to leave but doesn’t want to say it. She reminded them all that they were expected at brunch the morning after, telling them all to board at a hotel she owned down the road. How rich was this lady? She had gone around inviting select people to stay with her in her guest rooms, weaving her way through the crowd somehow faster than you could keep up with. When you had the chance, you gathered up Rex’s coat you had left at a table close to the dance floor.

You saw him after about an hour, he was wearing a new shirt. Lance must have helped him patch his side up because there was no visible wound through the white linen. Irritating was the main emotion that coursed through you at the sight of him, but it quickly gave way to worry. He had survived perfectly his entire life without you worrying about him, but you couldn’t help it. You gave a shit about Rex Splode- or Rex Sloane as you had come to find out tonight.

Somewhere internally, the you from a month ago groaned heavily.

“Shall I have Gareth show you all to your room?” Mune’s voice poked through your thought process.

“Hm?” You wrenched your gaze from the back of Rex’s head, to give her a quizzical look.

“You three will be staying here, yes?”

“Oh, I figured we would just stay at a hotel or something.”

“The only hotel for miles is mine, and it is completely booked.” She shakes her hands at you like it’s no big deal. “I have plenty of space-” She looked over at one of the groups she had just invited to stay as well. “Well, I have space.” She corrects.

“Oh, then sure?”

“Good, Gareth has already brought your things upstairs to the room.”

“Our things?”

“Cecil sent you all outfits for the brunch tomorrow. You never know if there will be a second wave.”

“No, I mean our things, as in all to the same room?”

“There’s only so much space darling, even in a house like this.” She waves down a couple that is about to escape without her talking to them and marches over, shouting greetings.

Oh boy.

Gareth seemed to materialize out of thin air next to you. “Shall I show you to your room?”

You ran a hand over your face with a sigh, already mentally preparing for the argument that was about to happen the moment you all reached the room. Maybe it was set up for three people, and you were dreading nothing.

Gareth rounded the three of you up, Bulletproof made several comments about being ready to knock out for the night, which went without response. All three of you were feeling the exhaustion without needing to mention it aloud.

At the top of two different sets of stairs, you all found yourself in a long hall, each set of doors looking identical. The only things serving as landmarks were the different portraits on the wall. The one next to your door portrayed a medieval knight on horseback appearing to be leaving for battle. A woman with golden hair was tying a red fabric around his arm. Mune was nothing if not consistent at least.

Gareth opened the door for the three of you, holding his hand out so you could go inside. After stepping in you looked back to see Bulletproof and Rex loitering outside the door.

“Well, see you in the morning.” Bulletproof waves awkwardly. Rex doesn’t meet your eyes.

“You are all staying in this room tonight, Mr. Randolph.” Gareth states humorlessly, still holding the door open.

Both of them seem to cock their heads to the side in unison, glancing inside as if expecting to see a row of beds. They both only furrowed their brows tighter after seeing the large bed dead center and two couches placed in various different positions in the expanse of the room.

“Oh, hell no.” Zandale steps in to look at the room closer, his gaze flittering over it once again, and landing on his luggage set next to a red upholstered couch. “Seriously?”

Gareth doesn’t respond, just continues holding his hand out until Rex begrudgingly steps in.

You take in the room fully for yourself, sighing once again before speaking. “I guess I’ll take the other couch?”

Author's note: God can these two get along for more than two seconds I’m going to blow my brains out (I did this to myself) Extra points if you know exactly what painting I was describing

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 @0ut0fsweets @sugaramped @spidernuggets @sweet-cuddlebug @ohmysoultakemysoul @lapisbwub @velovicy @liquideyes request to be tagged for new parts!

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spidernuggets · 15 days ago

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ミ★ everything i wanted ★彡

summary: you loved the domestic life you had grown accustomed to with rex. but something about it didn't quite feel real. pairing: rex splode x f reader word count: 350 warnings: angst, i guess. insert shrugging emoji. ao3 link playlist previous work

You were singing to yourself as you finished rinsing the dishes from that night’s dinner. It was something you had heard in passing and couldn’t get out of your head. When all of a sudden you felt a warm presence behind you. It was Rex. He pressed his chin onto your shoulder. Pressing soft, fluttering kisses to the nape of your neck.

The two of you had only just finished moving into your apartment. Not even a month ago. And it showed. Every room lacking any form of decor or basic furniture. Which Rex swore he was going to fix. He had had everything picked out for your dream apartment, back when moving in together seemed so far away.

Rex slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you further and further away from the sink. And you moved your left arm to wrap around his head. Running your hand through his hair. You were so absorbed in the moment, that you didn’t even realize how strange the room surrounding you looked. Or how you had never actually seen it before. And that this wasn’t your home.

“C’mon babe, I love you, but you gotta wake up.”

And then everything just faded away, around you. And you finally realized that this wasn’t real.

You shot out of your bed in a cold sweat. Staring blankly at the wall across from you, as you slowly came to your senses. All of that was just a dream. The domesticity, and the simplicity of it all were just entirely the figment of your imagination.

Because none of that was possible anymore. Because Rex was dead. You buried him just last week. And now you would never get to feel the touch of his lips, or the warmth of his hands. And you would never get to move in together like you had always planned to. The thought was just a cruel trick your mind was trying to play on you.

He was all you had ever wanted in your life. And now he was gone. Before your lives together had barely even got the chance to begin.

author's note: sorry that this is so short. not that i've ever written anything that long, but ya'll get it. this is very cliche. and i try my best to avoid being cliche, however i could not get this idea out of my head after listening to everything i wanted by billie eilish (hence the title) hope ya'll enjoyed anyway. let me know any thoughts, please i crave interaction.

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spidernuggets · 16 days ago

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ms gurl really said SLOW burn this shit so YUMMY I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS RAAAHHAHAHH 👹👹👹👹👹👹

Crawling Back to You

Chapter seventeen

Synopsis: You, Rex, and Bulletproof are working as a private security detail for a high-end donor’s Gala. Your job is to blend in and mingle, which is hard to do when you want nothing more than to stay near Rex the whole evening.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Chapter: 17/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: None, but the tension is crazy, eat up

Note: Kind of includes an OC like character, so warning for that? No one in the canon universe fit the need for the part so I just made up someone. Sorry if you hate added noncanon characters, I needed someone to be the donor in order to progress this part of the story. This chapter (plus part two of it) is also extremely self-indulgent so I hope you enjoy anyways!

“You think if all the Guardians pooled their money together, we could afford a place like that?” Bulletproof stepped out in front of you and Rex.

“I didn’t even think anything could be that big.” You stated, feeling mildly overwhelmed by the looming estate before you.

“I can think of something-” Rex snickered and then seemed to immediately regret it. “Sorry-”

“Do we just…walk up?” You continued, ignoring Rex, taking a cautious step forward.

“I thought we were arriving early, why are there so many planes already here?” Bulletproof commented, looking back at the large array that lined up with the Guardian’s jet.

“You guys are thinking way too critically about this, I came to party, and that’s what I’m going to do.” Rex, walks ahead of both of you, holding his hands intertwined behind his head.

“We’re here to work, Rex.” You reminded him in a dry tone, but even for you, the anticipation was rising.

To call the estate before you a house, would be a falsehood, to call it a mansion still felt untrue, but closer. It was practically a castle. High-reaching spires jutted out towards the heavens, accented perfectly by the pink tone of an oncoming sunset. Various chimneys contrasted against the sharp peaks with their rectangular structure. As you got closer you could somehow clearly see where the land stopped, and the backyard began. There were various stone walkways, surrounded by meticulously upkept greenery. A fountain laid dead center, although to call it simply a fountain also felt like it was falling short. It was more like a pond, or a small lake, with marble enclosing its sides. A stone pillar in the center served as a base for a small waterfall. Upon approach you could feel the cool spray against your skin.

The backdoor was formed of overexaggerated double wooden doors, pushed further into the dark outer stone wall. There was a covered walkway against the house, vines trailed down from the columns and covered the archways. You figured it was a stylistic choice rather than the owner letting them grow due to lack of care. The whole area was far too well-upkept for it to have been missed. You imagined what they might look like in season and wondered if they would bloom or not. Either way, the whole place was breathtaking.

The large arched windows revealed bright but still soft, yellow lighting from inside. From just a few yards out you could see the busy bustle from inside, all the people within your view wearing identical black suits. Caterers.

“This place is insane.” You whispered, not meant for either of your companions. Stopping, you looked back to take the garden in, as well as the land that spread out for miles. Further off behind the makeshift aircraft hangar, you could make out trees. You did a small spin looking around as far as you could before your vision was stopped by the walls of the building. This entire area was closed off by a forest.

You wanted to laugh, giggle, do something. You couldn’t really believe where you were, well, you didn’t really know where you were to begin with. But to you, it felt like you had walked into a storybook. Any twisting feeling you had felt on the journey here was completely gone and replaced by the buzz of excitement.

After doing another semi-spin to look at it all again you realized Rex was standing quietly, his hands shoved into his pant pockets, staring at you. Clearing your throat you dropped your shit-eating grin and walked forward a few paces, leaving him behind. You didn’t need his negativity ruining this for you. Even as you walked up to the back entrance there was an extra pep in your step.

“Do we knock-?” Zandale’s question was cut off by heavy creaking as the large double doors began to shift on their hinges. It took a few seconds longer than necessary, which made you shoot a small chuckle in Rex’s direction, snickering at the over-the-top feeling of it all.

A single man stood in the center of the doorway. He was wearing a tuxedo, with a dark bowtie, his features seemingly stuck in a look of displeasure.

A moment.

“So-” Rex starts.

“Dr. Mune wishes to meet with you all before guests arrive, please, follow me.” He did not wait, quickly taking off at a pace that felt a lot like running to you. He did not seem to share in your breathless sentiment, easily spouting out facts about different art pieces you passed as if he were giving a tour. Every room you walked through, or rather sprinted through, seemed to have more and more luxurious décor. Complex lighting fixtures both on the wall and in the form of chandeliers, pearlescent columns, and waxed floors. You tried to take as many mental notes as possible to add to your persistent country home daydream. Although, granite columns might be going a little overboard.

“God, this place is a little…” Rex whispered from next to you. He looked far less pleased than you felt. In fact, he even looked a little sour, a firm scowl displayed across his features.

Before you could quietly question him on it the man who had been leading you all slid gracefully to a stop. You did this less gracefully, not expecting it and jerking back a few feet. As fancy as your dress was, you still had the mannerisms of someone more…normal? Is that the way to put it?

It was hard to think that all of this could be viewed as normal for anyone.

“Dr. Mune, your Guardians are here.”

Cheesy. But you were grinning like an idiot anyway. This was already better than any stakeout you had ever experienced the misfortune of being bored out of your mind on.

A woman, tall but well filled out stood next to two workers. She was wearing half-moon spectacles, a pearl-encrusted chain connecting them down to her neck. There was a general no-nonsense air to her. A tweed skirt reached down to her knees, which was met by a pair of black tights. She was wearing a matching jacket with a white flowy blouse underneath. One of the workers uttered a few hushed tones to her, which she responded to with the same frequency. Her maroon-lined lips formed around every syllable. With a nod, the two workers left and she turned her attention to your group.

“Ah, the guests of honor.” She smiles; the action accentuating wrinkles across her face. She couldn’t be much younger than Cecil. However, unlike Cecil, she still had luxurious hair, black with only a few white streaks accenting through it.

The three of you were not the most competent when it came to introductions, but luckily the man who had led you spoke first. “I have given them the tour-” It took you maybe three minutes to reach where you were now, how would that be a proper tour? “And I told Lance to prepare the earpieces.”

“Oh, we’ve already got some.” You start, taking an apprehensive step forward.

“We’ve got jammers placed out all over.” The woman speaks. “You won’t be able to reach each other. My security team has some, that way you can keep them up to date as the night moves forward, yes?”

“If you have a security detail already, why do you need us?” Rex scoffs out. It’s a valid question, but the brash execution has you cringing.

She doesn’t falter in her smile or demeanor. “Because, Mr. Sloane, threats of this magnitude don’t always end well under the careful watch of the everyday man, do they?”

Mr. Sloane? You turn slowly to look at him. His jaw is clenched, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“Why are you getting threats?” Bulletproof asked, folding his arms.

“Were you not all briefed in some capacity?" She straightens out her jacket, moving forward towards the small semicircle of people in front of her. “I am not very well-liked by a multitude of crowds. Although-” She turns her attention to the man who had brought you. “Who has the largest price on my head right now?”

“That would be Mister Liu, ma’am.”

“He still upset about that?” She laughed but did not divulge what she was laughing about. “My point is, it could be anyone or anything. Liu doesn’t think it is worth wasting his own time, but he sends assassins now and again.” She flutters her hand like she’s discussing the afternoon weather. “You don’t have to watch me specifically, as I said I have my own detail. However, our most recent threat was remarked as…What was it again, Gareth?”

“I believe they claimed that they would ‘scar the earth so heavily that no one could build in the same area for two thousand years’, ma’am.”

“Ah, yes.”

You paused, deciding if it would be appropriate for you to speak. A glancing over at Rex provides you with no help or comfort in the answer as he was still staring forward with an unpleasant expression. “Excuse me, Dr. Mune-”

“Mune is fine.”

“Mune,” You repeat, “If you are receiving threats like this, should you really be throwing an event like this? Isn’t it kind of…tempting fate?”

She blinks a few times at you, and you feel like the floor is being pulled out from under you.

“My dear, if I heeded every threat nothing would ever get done. This one isn’t half as colorful as the ones I usually receive, but,” She sighs, folding her hands, “I received word of movement that concerns me, so I would rather be cautious.”

“How would you like us to start?”

She explains her estate in detail, promising an escort will show your way to each place once she is done. Throughout she seems exceedingly sure that nothing will happen, which puts you less at ease every time she says it. At the end of her presentation, she tells the three of you to ‘enjoy yourselves’. Rex scoffs but doesn’t say anything else.

“Gareth will take you to get your earpieces and meet the team. I’d like you to stay behind if you please.” You looked up and she was gesturing towards you. Ah, crap.

“We should all stick together-” Rex starts, taking an almost indistinguishable sidestep towards you.

“I don’t bite, Mr. Sloane. And if you wish to indeed, blend, you shouldn’t all stick together, yes?” Her smile remains unwavering, as she ushers him away.

You give him a shrug taking a few steps towards her, when a hand grabs your wrist. Glancing back, you give him an odd look, mouthing a small ‘what?’.

He doesn’t say anything but imperceptibly shakes his head. Now what the hell are you supposed to do with that? This is a job, a duty, you can’t just tell your employer ‘No, I won’t stay behind to discuss anything with you’.

“I’ll catch up.” You reassure, but his reaction was doing nothing to calm any of your nerves.

His eyes almost seem to darken a shade but he just nods, slipping your wrist from his grip and following close behind Zandale and Gareth who were already a good yard or two away.

“Cecil has talked about you.” Dr. Mune starts, turning to a worker who walked up with a book of some sort. She didn’t seem interested in addressing Rex’s hesitation.

“Yeah? Hopefully okay things.”

“Okay is putting it mildly.” She chuckles, before shaking her head at the worker and then turns her full attention to you. “You’re the poster child for everything Cecil wants in a hero. Obedience, self-sufficiency, discretion.” She takes off her glasses, letting them hang down around her neck. “He couldn’t have made a better soldier if he crafted one himself.”

You hummed, not sure exactly what to say to this. Part of you was pleased that Cecil spoke well of you or even spoke of you at all. The other part was concerned as to where this was headed.

“I like you.” She affirms, glancing up and down your figure. “I think we’ll get along just fine.” She holds out her arm for you to take, which you realize after staring at her for a few moments. “You shall be my Merlin.”

What on earth is this woman on about? “Merlin? As in King Arthur?” You ask it with a polite scoff in the way you appease someone who just spoke utter nonsense to you.

“That’s right.” She pats your arm while leading you in the direction the others went. “I took an interest in the Arthurian legend a few decades ago. Security humors me and it pleases me to see everyone fit into their roles.”

“And you think I would be the Merlin in your story?”

“Yes.” She says it like it was a ridiculous question. Maybe the papers Donald gave you all should have mentioned she was about two days away from madness. “Mr. Randolph strikes me as a Bedivere, do you agree?”

“I can’t say I know exactly who that is, Mune.”

She sighs dramatically. “No one ever realizes my true genius.”

“You worked a lot in the body enhancement side of the GDA, didn’t you?” The question slips past your lips the moment there is a lull in conversation.

“I suppose, I don’t work in it anymore, but I hear they still use my blueprints. Or at least I get the royalty check every month in the mail.” She laughs off-handedly. It feels like you have both been walking for ages, passing door after door, the sound of your individual shoes clicking against the floors.

“How long did you work there?”

“Longer than you’ve been alive. I worked there when I was still young, full of life, you know the sob story.” She pauses in her step. “The GDA hasn’t always been the place it is now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t get genetically modified superheroes without casualties.” Dr. Mune continues walking, pulling you with her. “How is Mr. Sloane doing?”

The question takes you off guard. “Oh, Rex?” She nods and you continue, “Pretty good I’d say? He’s excellent at what he does.”

“Oh, I know.” The first true sense of distaste flows off of her. “He always was.” Between this and Rex grabbing your arm earlier, you were questioning what their history was. “He’s a Gawain.” She states suddenly before the two of you pull up to the final door. She let go of your arm and gestured for you to go inside. “My Lancelot will tell you everything you need to know. I do hope you are able to enjoy your evening.” She says your last name, a small twinkle in her eye that made you wonder for a moment if she planted a bomb herself just for her own entertainment.

“Lancelot?” You ask, quirking your brow up slightly.

“It’s cute, right?” She smiles, more to herself than to you, before turning to leave you there.

“But Lancelot betrays Arthur.” You cock your head, and she slows to a stop, a smile still spread across her wrinkled features.

“Good thing I’m not Arthur.”

“Then who are you?”

“Excalibur.”

You couldn’t quite decide how you felt about her. She was odd, but she was sure of herself. After so many years and so many accomplishments maybe you would be too. A part of you liked her, the idea of her interacting with Cecil was one that intrigued you deeply. But you were put off on behalf of Rex. He obviously didn’t trust her, and she even conceded to them having some kind of history. Alongside keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, you were also determined to figure out who Mune thought Arthur was.

People began to arrive while Lance, affectionately called Lancelot by Dr. Mune, familiarizes you all with the equipment. He was very no-nonsense, speaking in as brief of statements as he could. Once he felt confident that the three of you were set, he had Gareth come back and take you all to the ballroom, while repeating one last time to notify him if any of you saw anything.

The ballroom was just as meticulously decorated as every other room you had seen so far. Gold plated chandeliers hung from a ceiling painted with a beautiful mural. A night sky with ancient figures all wearing roman attire. The floor itself was wooden, waxed over with something to protect it from spills. A stage sat towards the front, where artists and their instruments were gathered. Tables of varying sizes speckled the area, and there was a bar at each side of the room for refreshments.

The expansive area filled quickly, people from all walks of life, all well dressed in the most obnoxious way. Even still, you could feel your excitement returning. The three of you had decided to stay together for the first few minutes, then slowly peel off into the other parts of the ballroom. Zandale had already made his way over to the bar, speaking with an older man in a suit that looked like it cost more than a year’s rent.

“So,” You looked over at Rex, who had been suspiciously quiet since you rejoined the group. “What’s the deal with you and Mune?”

“There’s no deal.” He says shortly, then sucks his teeth and continues. “She worked at the GDA when I was a kid, I’ve met her a few times.”

“That was a pretty strong reaction for just a few times.” You say it softly, your eyes scanning the room behind him. You doubted that anything would happen this early in the evening, but you still wanted to keep an eye out.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly the happiest point in my life.” Rex grits out, his gaze following the other side of the room behind you.

“Is she not trustworthy?” You wait a moment, but when he doesn’t answer you poke his arm. “Rex, this is serious. We’ve got to get through this job, I need to know if I should be watching her as well as everyone else.”

He rubs his arm absentmindedly where you had poked him. “She’s trustworthy.” He concedes begrudgingly. “She’s practically Cecil in a different fucking font.”

“I don’t mind Cecil.” You mutter, returning to look at a couple that walked through the doors.

“I don’t mind Cecil either, but I don’t doubt that he’d sacrifice anyone of us if he thought it was for the greater good.”

“It’s the job.” You respond simply, but you know he’s probably right. “Hey, by the way, did you know apparently that you are ‘Sir Gawain?’ to Mune?” You raise a brow with a soft smirk.

“She’s still doing that shit?” He sighed. “At least I’m not Mordred anymore. When I was younger, she sat me down to tell me exactly why that was who I was. Not great to hear one of the more prominent adult figures in your life compare you to the bad guy of a kid’s fairytale.”

“I thought Morgana was the bad guy?”

“She is too, but Mordred kills Arthur so- ah shit I don’t even know.” He raps his fingers against the cocktail table the two of you are standing at.

“We’re you a troublesome kid of something? Kill any kings?” You laugh, but your smile falters slightly when Rex does not.

“Uh-”

Are you two going to split up or stand there talking away all evening?

Bulletproof’s voice sounded out over the comms, interrupting Rex before he could finish. He puts a hand to his temple and stays standing next to you for a moment, his fingers still tapping on the table.

“See you soon?” You finally say, giving him a small smile.

He looks at you and blinks a few times before curtly nodding and heading in towards a group stationed behind you.

“Shit.” You whisper to yourself, looking down at your hands as they spread across the dark tablecloth. A glance back to the bar shows Zandale still chatting with the elderly man, but you catch how his gaze flits across the room every few seconds.

“Hello.” An unfamiliar voice fills the space around your table from where Rex had just been standing. A man, most likely in his early to mid-thirties stood before you. He was wearing a light grey suit, with a black bowtie.

“Hi.” You say, giving him a polite smile, glancing behind him to keep an eye on the door.

“Are you waiting for someone?”

“No, just people watching.”

“You came to a house of this magnitude and you people watch? You could do that anywhere.” He grins.

“Well, maybe I like to look at all the ridiculous outfits.” Low risk, high reward, He either agrees with you and it’s fine, or he disagrees and leaves you alone.

“You definitely won’t find a shortage of that here. For a gala that is supposed to have dancing, there is a surprising lack of ballgowns.”

“Did you leave yours at home?” You glanced back to where Rex had been, his back was to you as he talked to a tall slender woman with a fur coat. You wanted to know more about his experience with Mune, you were practically counting down the minutes until it would be appropriate to walk over to him again. The woman laughed and you felt yourself stand up a little straighter, what were they talking about? It couldn’t be that funny. You practically felt your mood sour at the sight, turning back to the guy who had welcomed himself to your table.

“Touche.” He says, picking up his wine glass you hadn’t realized he had set down. “You’ll have to save me a dance.”

“Oh, I’m not sure I will be dancing.” You state quickly,

“Well, if you change your mind, save me one.” He lifted his glass to you and walked past you to another table where two people were standing.

You could feel your excitement fading once again. Tonight was going to be a long night if every interaction was like that. And it was going to be even longer if you kept turning to watch Rex seemingly hitting it off with everyone he talked to.

The evening was running without a hitch. You managed to make perfectly fine small talk with a variety of people while only conceding to a few drinks. Not that they had time to work their magic with your elevated blood processing. About forty-five minutes in, Mune entered the room, silence slowly falling over the different groups that is only broken by a few whispers.

“I hope you all donate as much as you drink up my fine wines.” The crowd laughs, but Mune seems more put out by them than actually making a joke. “The orchestra will be starting up in the next few minutes to start up the dancing, so I expect every one of you to visit the floor at least once. And if you don’t want to now, have a drink until you do.”

You would need a lot more than one drink to convince you to step out there, even if you didn’t have practically an immunity to alcohol as it was.

You nodded your goodbyes to a couple you had been talking with and spotted Bulletproof loitering around an empty cocktail table.

“Have you seen anything?” You ask in a low town as you take your place next to him.

“I mean, some idiot is definitely trying to steal a few pieces of the silverware but that’s about all the malicious intent I have seen so far.”

“It’s surprising how many of these people hate each other, and how easily they announce it to complete strangers.” You sigh, putting your hands on your hips and stretching out your back.

“You owe me so big for this shit.” Bulletproof grumbles, straightening out his tie.

“What, you’re not even having a bit of fun? You should go dance or something.” You snicker, turning so that your elbows are resting on the cocktail table behind you.

“I hate dances, I hate high society, and I’m starting to hate you.”

“Me?”

“You should have just asked Rex to join, why am I even here?” He glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to imply but I do actually like your company on missions Zandale.” You pause before shifting your hand in the air and adding with a smile: “Somewhat.”

“Am I wrong though? You asked me to come to bait Rex into coming didn’t you.”

“No, I asked you to come because I didn’t want to come alone, and you’re one of the only people on the team who can stand me.” You sigh heavily, giving a polite smile to someone as they walk by.

“Well, Rex-”

“Not everything is about Rex!” You say a little louder than you meant to, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. “I couldn’t ask him, okay? He shouldn’t even be on the field; he was just shot in the head for Pete’s sake.”

“It’s the job.” You cringe at your words being recited back to you.

“I know.” You mutter gently. “But… I want better for him. I want better for Rae. Hell, even Kate should have had better.”

“You can’t protect him.” Zandale shrugs, but his voice is understanding. “Or any of them. We all knew the risks. Do you?”

You look up and out into the crowd, searching silently. Verdant eyes meet you during your search. He’s standing in a circle of people but angled just right so that you can see him between the shoulders of two people in front of him. You angle your head to the side to see him better between the two people. He mirrors the gesture, his lips downturned slightly before they grow into a full boyish grin. You smile back at him and then his attention is taken away from you as someone speaks to him.

“It was easier when he was mean to me.” You murmur bitterly, still watching Rex who appeared to be listening intently to what someone was saying.

“If you want, I could let him know, maybe even help him pull together another scheme to try and get you kicked out.”

“Ooh, enticing offer.”

Bulletproof looked back to where you were looking and sighed when he saw Rex. “You should go talk to him, ask him to dance, something. This thing sucks but it sucks more with your obvious ogling passing over me. I’m gonna barf.”

“I’m not ogling! I was watching someone else over there…” You feign a gasp. “Oh my god! He’s got a gun!” You look back at Zandale, “I’m working, see?”

“You both are insufferable to be around.”

“In a good way?”

“What-? No! How can you be insufferable in a good way?”

Bulletproof heads back to the bar, and you decide to look around outside. Huge double glass doors lead directly from the ballroom into the garden you had seen earlier. Attendees stand outside chatting and smoking cigarettes at several different parts of the patio area. Cocktail tables are set up sparsely all the way out and up to the fountain.

The smell of smoke and crisp night air fills your lungs, it is much cooler outside. A couple passes you, leaving an open table for you to stand at that easily surveys the area.

“I think I’ve missed my calling.” You don’t have to turn to know who it is, an uncontrollable smile crossing your face.

“Yeah?”

“I think I should have been a fucking con artist; these people love me.” Rex moves in next to you, breathing the night air in deeply. “I could do fundraisers, get ridiculous amounts of cash, and then just pocket it.”

“Let me know how that goes.” You snort, swiveling your head to face him.

“Seen anything?” It’s unnecessary, an excuse to keep talking. Even if you don’t fully believe Rae in her insistence that he shares your feelings you can recognize this from a mile away. You had said the same thing to Bulletproof earlier, but that had been to keep things light. Rex wasn’t one for small talk like that.

“Nope, Zandale saw someone stealing some silverware, but it’s been pretty calm, you?”

“Nothing as exciting as that.” He scoffs, his gaze trailing over the garden. You turn so that your back is to the table, leaning on your elbows again while watching the glittering lights from inside. Faint orchestral music can be heard from all over the garden. Couples dance, some with less grace than others, but all of them seem to be putting the most effort possible into it.

A small shiver travels up your spine at the chill of the night air. “God, a little cold out here, right?” More small talk.

Without hesitation Rex is pulling off his coat jacket. He brushed it out with his hand as if it made any difference and held it out to you.

“Oh, I’m not sure I really need-” He pulls his hand back almost imperceptibly and you let out a breath. “Okay.”

He places the coat over your shoulders after you step away from the table. It’s not horribly warm but at least it stops the breeze, Worse than the breeze is the fact that it smells like him. You hadn’t even realized you knew his smell until now, which was something you’d unpack later.

“Do you dance, Rex?” The question leaves your lips and almost instantaneously you can feel Rex tense beside you.

“No.” He responds curtly.

You just nod, not sure if you expected him to say something else. Your hands distractedly play with the edges of the tablecloth,

“Would you like to dance?”

“What? No.” You laugh awkwardly, still intently watching the pairs spin from behind the glass doors.

“I’m not asking if you want to dance, I’m asking if you would dance.” You look over at him and he had shifted, his hand outstretched to you. An actual invitation. “With me.”

“You don’t dance.” You respond softly, your gaze flickering down to his hand.

“I don’t.” He repeats, that boyish grin returning to his face. “Could I have this dance?”

You glance back to the crowd of dancers, then snap your gaze back to him. His emerald gaze is soft and nonjudgemental. You weren’t sure you even knew how to dance. You’d get out there and probably look like a fool in front of everyone. Rex would get irritated because you stepped on his foot one too many times, it was sure to be a disaster-

“You may.” The affirmation seemed to tie an invisible line between the two of you, as your hand met his. He doesn’t lead you into the ballroom though, rather he leads you down the steps into the grass. Most of the people who had left for smoke breaks had slowly trickled back inside. Besides a few stragglers, the two of you were alone.

“Afraid of the crowd?” You joke lightly, as he takes your hand and intertwined your fingers, his other hand coming to rest gently on your hip. Like he was holding it almost painstakingly away from direct contact.

“Maybe I don’t want to share.” He said it offhand as if it didn’t make your brain short-circuit. Weeks of casual conversation and visits to his hospital room, and this was the boldest thing he had said to you. It made you feel warm, fuzzy.

“Oh.” Was all you could manage. Rex took the lead, instructing you to follow his moves. “Where did you learn to dance?”

“Oh, well, I didn’t.” He says honestly. “I just watched the people inside for a long time. It’s fairly simple.”

“You were analyzing the people dancing?” You tried not to outwardly laugh, but your expression was giving you away. “Why?”

A beat of silence passes between you, and you listen to the cues of the loud orchestra rendered quieter by distance.

“I wanted to know what I was doing when we danced.” He admitted quietly, his hand on your hip twitching faintly as he finally let it rest fully against you. The feeling of his hand on you has your head spinning so much that you almost don’t register what he just admitted.

“You were planning on dancing with me?”

“Did I have much choice?”

“Yes, obviously!”

He chuckles lightly. “I’d be a fucking idiot not to take the opportunity.”

“Have you been drinking?” His hand tightens slightly against yours as you take your hand off his shoulder to pull his jacket back over your own once you start to feel it slide.

“Not much. Definitely not as much as Bulletproof, dude doesn’t seem to remember this isn’t a paid vacation.”

You scoff. “I feel bad for asking him to come, I just didn’t want to come alone.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?” The air between the two of you feels like it’s buzzing at the question, and your eyes lock with his.

“Did you want me to?”

“Yes.” His admission is quiet, whispered like it’s a secret. It makes your mouth feel dry, and your body feels even more responsive to his touch than you had thought was possible.

“I’d hoped you would come.”

“Then I guess we both got what we wanted.” A tense silence falls over the two of you as you glide across the grass, a small laugh leaving you as your heel gets caught on the uneven ground and you trip. You can hear the music winding down for the end of the dance, and both of your movements slow.

“You look…” He hesitates, biting the inside of his lip and looking away from your gaze. “You look beautiful tonight. By the way.”

“Don’t tease, I’m not an idiot.” You roll your eyes, but his words make you feel mushy, your guard dropping more by the second.

“Tease?” He cocks his head slightly, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours, it is settled further down your face. The realization sends an electric shock up your spine, into your fingertips.

He slowly looks up to your stare, his eyes half-lidded, and his pupils blown. Oh.

You open your mouth to retort, or really say anything, convinced you were imagining this. He looked down at the action, leaning in a few millimeters, but not enough to close the distance in any meaningful way. He seemed to be watching your reaction, waiting to see you react poorly, push him away, call him out. But you didn’t do any of that. You just waited, your eye darting over his face to watch every micro expression. His throat bobbed but he didn’t lean forward anymore, his brow furrowing.

“So, can I get that dance?” A voice cracks through the tension that had been building to a head, causing Rex to pull back entirely, his attention turning to the person speaking. His hand leaves your hip, but he doesn’t immediately drop your hand.

Mind racing you look up at who was maybe one of the people you would want to see least in the world right now. The man with the grey suit from earlier. He’s leaning against the archway, his arms folded over his chest. “You said I could have one if you decided to dance, and from the looks of it you just did.”

“Uh…” You run your free hand through your hair, willing your thoughts to quiet down so you can think. “Yeah, okay, just give me a moment.”

“The next song’s gonna start.” The man states, an insufferable grin spreading across his face.

You sigh and look at Rex, he looks back, his expression unreadable. Maybe you had misread the whole situation. Imagined that he might kiss you. You slid your fingers from his grasp and headed up the stairs back onto the patio area. “Thank you.” You called back to Rex, who was still standing where you left him.

Author's Note: Fun fact, the idea of Mune comes from a concept I have for a Cecil x reader one-shot. We will see if I ever write it :P

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 @0ut0fsweets @sugaramped @spidernuggets @sweet-cuddlebug @ohmysoultakemysoul @lapisbwub @velovicy request to be tagged for new parts!

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spidernuggets · 21 days ago

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i hope rex and reader find an empty bathroom in the mansion in the next chapter wink wink wink

Crawling Back to You

Chapter sixteen

Synopsis: You realize a bit more about how you feel towards Rex that extends past just being teammates. Just in time for a specialized mission you’re the only one interested in going on.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Chapter: 16/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: None

Note: I loved reading your guy's shocked comments last time, you're all so funny. This chapter and the next were both going to be one chapter but this one is already so long it would probably end up being 10k+ words 😭 Then the chapter after the next one will be a Rex POV. Reblogs, comments, likes, taglist requests are all very appreciated!!

You don’t like him. Not like that, that’s ridiculous. You could hardly stand him a few days ago! It wasn’t even just dislike, you hated him. And he hated you. He spent months trying to get rid of you. This is ridiculous, more than ridiculous it’s… well, it’s just plain idiotic. You barely like him enough to visit his room! And that’s just because you feel bad. Sure, he seems to be making an effort of sorts to be better, but that does not erase months of heartache and borderline misery. Heartache isn’t the right word, that implies that he has some kind of effect on your heart, which he does not.

But he was at least semi-good company after long shifts at the hospital. Who else did you have? Rae didn’t want to entertain you constantly, and she was still asleep most of the day because of her healing process. So, who else did you have other than the asshole? You just liked to see his steady improvement; it was akin to a social experiment. Nothing more. And as far as social experiments went at least he was somewhat good company. You liked the banter as much as you hated to admit it. And you liked how much he seemed to concede to what you were saying. A stark contrast to the Rex who had fought you on everything. If you asked to see his new hand, he would let you see it without hesitation. If you told him to stop talking while you were trying to focus on a message that just popped up from Cecil, he would instantly shut up. It was like he had been trained almost overnight. Sure, he could be funny, and surprisingly insightful but that doesn’t mean anything either.

At this very moment, he’s telling you how annoyed he is at his hair. Which as of now was starting to grow out from the close-cut buzz he had received during surgery. It was a little scruffy, not nearly long enough to be weighed down, so it just stuck out in different directions. He looked dumb in an endearing sort of way. For the first part of your visit, he just sat with one hand on his head as if it would hide it from you. Chunks stuck up through his fingers, and he somehow made it look perfectly natural for someone to sit like that. Until he needed to talk about something with more animation, and then his annoyance at how it looked was forgotten. You didn’t think it looked that bad, it was very different from his usual look, but not bad. It looked soft-

Ah, shit.

You were starting to like Rex.

It was hard enough to look him in the eye after your dream the other night. It was embarrassing honestly. You might have self-indulged a little, asking Rex to inspect his hand for fully no reason other than because you wanted to. He didn’t even ask why, just offered it and kept talking.

“Cecil’s talking about getting me to be field ready after today-”

You hummed quietly, only half listening after your sudden realization. God, Rae was going to have a field day with this.

“I hope my suit is all fixed up, you know? If not I guess I could call Eve or something cause the amount of damage it had I doubt I could patch it up-” His left hand was still nudged towards you, palm up, even though you were no longer examining it.

“Wait, you said Cecil wants you back on the field?” You dropped your thought process for a moment, finally focusing fully on him.

“Uh, yeah.” He said with a small nod. “I’m getting discharged today, they said I’m basically good to go-”

“I don’t think ‘basically’ isn’t very assuring.” You frowned.

He tilted his head a little at you, a sly smile ghosting over his lips. “You worried about me, nurse?”

Normally you would roll your eyes, quickly followed by an exasperated groan. But now, you could swear the temperature of the room went up a few degrees. “No, I’m worried that if you get put on a mission, you’ll fuck it up. You should be fully healed before going out again.” Harsh, maybe harsher than it needed to be. But you didn’t want him reading into the way you had just looked at him.

“First of all, fucking ouch. Second of all, if you’re so worked up about it, why not just check me yourself?” He holds his right hand out to where you sit on the recliner.

You glance down at his hand before snapping your gaze back up to him. “Well, if the doctors say you’re good to go-”

He barks out a laugh. “What is going on right now?”

“They are professionals, they know what they’re doing.” Your eyes jerk down to his hand for a second again, which he is still holding out to you.

“You just said-” Rex raises a brow, but before he can finish you interrupt.

“Oh, piss off, fine.” You grab his hand a little rougher than you meant to. You can feel him tense from the gesture which sends a feeling down your spine. Good or bad, you couldn’t quite tell, but you felt it. You close your eyes, focusing on whether there are any remaining injuries, and surprisingly enough, besides a few left-over bruises he seems fairly fine. You let go after healing the measly remainder, “See? You’re all set.”

“See?” Rex repeats, confusion lacing his tone. “See what? I wasn’t the one raising doubts,” He looks to the other side of the room as if looking for an imaginary camera. “What-?”

“Gotta stop living in the past Rex, keep moving forward.” You stand up swiftly, preparing to leave. Should you feel bad for borderline gaslighting the poor guy? Maybe. But you were feeling your own confusion as it was.

“Wait.” Rex’s voice calls out as you go to grab your coat. “Are you still coming around the HQ?”

“Yep, still work there.” You folded your coat over your arm.

“So, I’ll see you around?” He’s wincing slightly as if he’s being too vulnerable, and he has to express it externally.

“Yes.” You affirm, your expression softening. “I know where you live, don’t worry.” You give him a small smile.

“I know where you live too.” He says back.

“Great, and I know where I live, and you know where you live, so we’ve got that covered.” Not sure how to fully end this exchange, you take a few steps back to exit the room.

Rex opens his mouth as if to say something, but quickly snaps it shut, gripping the sheets of his hospital bed tightly. His jaw ticks as he looks off to the side, and you decide you need to get out of there now before you make a fool of yourself.

“See you later, Rex!” You call out as you step out of the room.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You’re entering Rae’s room; some trashy reality TV show is playing on the screen. Rae herself is working on some breakfast, obviously not enjoying it much. “Hello?” She raises a brow at you as you close the door with an unintentional slam.

“Hi.” You respond as you sink into the chair.

“Did someone die?” She eats a spoonful of her food, shuddering as she swallows.

“Worse.” You respond dramatically, your hands covering your face.

“They’re making you move into The Guardian’s HQ?”

“Ohhh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You peeked through your index and middle finger to look at her.

“Eh, not really. Then I can’t escape to your apartment for drink nights. So, if it’s not that then what is it?”

“You’re going to laugh.”

“Probably.”

“It’s so ridiculous.”

“Come on, are you being paid by the word?”

“Rex.” You close your fingers, feeling your face heat up again.

“Of course.” Giggles sound off from Rae’s direction as soon as you say it, not needing to ask another clarifying question. “I knew this was coming.”

“How?” You tried not to sound extremely pathetic, but it still came out in a half whine. “I couldn’t stand him!”

“You brought him a bottle after you kicked his ass, constantly looked at him when he was around, talked about him when I was over-” She starts counting out on her fingers.

“You’re the one who brought him up when you came over!” You exclaim.

“Because I knew you wanted to talk about him!”

“He has been the major cause of any drama or problem in my life, of course I’d want to talk about that. That doesn’t mean I liked him!” You held your hands out in an animated fashion as you spoke.

“Oh no, you definitely didn’t like him. But you thought about him all the time, didn’t you?”

“Ugh, you’re not making me feel better.”

“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about it being one-sided.” She finally ditched the food, pushing it away with a sour face.

“What?” You slouch more in the chair, swiveling to face her.

“Every bit of energy you’ve taken up talking, or complaining-or whatever, about him, he’s done like tenfold over you. He’s obsessed.”

You sigh and roll your eyes, somehow sinking further down. “I wish I had your level of delusion, Rae.”

“Call me delusional all you want, give it a few days, weeks.” She pauses and looks at you. “Or months, given the sluggish pace you two have been moving. I might be dead by then with the likes of this job.”

“Oh boy.”

Rae takes the pause to turn more towards you, letting out a groan at the exertion which has you shooting up even though she has no intentions of letting you help. “So, what made you finally realize?”

“Are you sure I can’t help in some way?” You rub your knuckles absentmindedly.

“Stop changing the subject, help me by giving the details.”

You sigh for what must have been the millionth time since entering the room. “I had…a dream.”

“Ooh, the scandal!”

“Shut up.” Pause. “Yeah, I mean kind of.”

“Call me the moment he shows up at your apartment looking like a lost puppy, Bulletproof is going to owe me so much money.”

“I really hope you’re joking.”

“No offense, but since when did we take orders from you, Donald? Where is Cecil?”

“This isn’t orders, it’s a prospect job.” Donald responded with a cool air.

He was always good at taking the shit everyone gave him. It made you feel for him more than most.

A few days have passed since you last saw Rex at the hospital. Somehow the two of you just couldn’t seem to coincide at the headquarters. It was frustrating, and even more frustrating than the lack of his presence in your life, was the fact that it frustrated you in the first place. You had walked by instinct to his room at the hospital multiple times the day after he left just to be greeted by sterile air and the smell of various detergents used to clean the area. The disappointment that filled you with the sight of it was not lost on you.

Right now, you finally saw him. The Guardians were assembled for some ‘special’ mission. Donald had gathered you all on Cecil’s behalf, it had all been very vague. Every member was present minus Rae, who was still recovering, and now going through physical therapy. And Kate, who was well…dead.

The memory of the fallen member had its effect on you just like every other mistake you had made. In order to be productive, both as an individual and as a hero, you had to push it away every time it entered your mind. You could wallow or you could act. You choose to act.

“A job? I thought we already had jobs. You know, being that we are Guardians and all.” Rex’s voice sounded out from the other side of the group, causing you to shift your attention. He was wearing his suit, and from the state of it he had recently been in a fight. His headpiece was pushed back but his goggles were perched on top of his head, his short hair poking up around it. You clenched your jaw tightly, he should be on vacation, having a break, or I don’t know, in therapy? He almost died. There’s no way that he came back from that completely fine. In that case, maybe you should be in therapy too, the number of times you’ve kind of almost died. But that’s only kind of so you’re obviously exempt. Rex shifted slightly, his line of sight landing on you, which sent you looking back at Donald again with no idea how long you’d been staring.

“This is technically out of Guardian jurisdiction, but an important donor has asked us specifically for undercover security detail.”

“Wait, we’ve been asked to be someone’s glorified security guards? Isn’t that a bit below our pay grade?” Bulletproof sounds off from right next to you.

“There are plenty of other heroes around, do you need a portfolio that you could send to him? I still have one from when I was running tryouts for the new team.” Rudy input a bit further down the line.

You glanced over before adding your own contribution, “Donor? Aren’t we government-run? How do we have donors?”

“They have asked specifically for members from The Guardians. You can technically refuse, but it wouldn’t be without repercussions.” Donald focuses on you. “There are a select few donors that contribute to the GDA and other operations, which entails all of you. Makes for more funds for renovations after damages that occur after Guardian missions.”

It makes sense, kind of. Cecil made a comment to you once about how much it costs to use his teleportation device, and with how much upkeep the Guardians themselves take just from missions, you can’t imagine it is in any way cheap. But donors?

“It would be a small detail, two or three. The person of interest has received a few concerning terroristic threats and wants to be sure everything runs smoothly.”

“Everything, as in?” Amanda questions.

“It’s a fundraiser, a gala-”

“A dance? This is ridiculous.” Immortal interjects, scoffing at Donald. “We are the Guardians of the Globe, not some dollar store rent-a-cop business.”

A few voices intertwine, speaking out all at once, mostly sounding disgruntled, displeased. On one level you understood their reservations. This was not the kind of thing any of you dealt with. Stakeouts? Sure. Life-threatening last-minute situations? Of course. A money-raising ball with the off chance of terrorism? Not as much.

Rex’s voice was surprisingly not one of those you heard. You tried to subtly look over at him, just to see that he was already looking right at you. Seemingly gauging your reaction. After looking away so suddenly earlier you would be pushing your luck doing it again right now. There was nothing else you’d rather do than break this scathing contact, but you just looked at him. And he looked back, his pale green gaze washing over you. Internally, you were trying to decide how long an acceptable amount of time would be to look at him, giving him a small smile. You didn’t have to wonder for long, because he broke the eye contact first. His attention turned to Immortal who was saying something about none of them partaking in this “obsolete distraction”.

“I’ll do it.” Before you fully thought it through the affirmation passed your lips. You weren’t really sure what the big deal was. So, what, it’s not some city-leveling threat. It almost sounded like fun, even exciting. You would be able to dress up, play a part, improvise. It would be a nice change of scenery.

Immortal sighed heavily. “You can have her. But we can’t spare anyone of importance.”

Give me a fucking break. You closed your eyes, letting out a controlled breath before turning to Bulletproof. “Come with me.” You whispered.

“Oh, hell no. I don’t want to have to dress up for some dance. No way.” He whispered back, not turning his head.

“Please! It would be at least a few days away from this place. It could be like a vacation.” You hiss, determined to get someone to go with you. Bulletproof was nice enough, and you knew he would be professional, which you couldn’t say for other members.

And you wouldn’t dare ask Rex.

“Ugh.” Bulletproof grumbled quietly. “I’ll go too.” He said loud enough for everyone else to hear.

Donald nodded, giving you what you swore must have been a look of appreciation, but with the glasses, you just couldn’t tell.

The Immortal grunted in displeasure but didn’t comment, folding his arms.

“I’ll also go.”

The whole group turns their attention to the voice that spoke from the other side of the room.

“What? I’d never say no to a party, you guys should know that by now.” Rex expressed with a composed tone.

“We can’t spare both you and Bulletproof.” Immortal said gruffly, turning to Donald. “Won’t just one person do?”

He couldn’t even use your name. Your expression betrayed how much this was getting under your skin, but you couldn’t seem to return to indifference.

“Technically, only two members are needed-” Donald starts,

“If something happens Bulletproof can just fucking fly back-or something, right?” Rex cuts in, drawing attention back to him.

“Technically-” Bulletproof begins, holding a hand up to his chin.

“Great. Then it sounds like we’re set.” Rex finishes and you catch his eye for a moment, mouthing a small ‘thank you’, to which he briskly nods, looking back at the Immortal.

“Very well.” Immortal bites out, leaving the conversation entirely, followed closely by Black Sampson.

“Shall I too go on this adventure?” Shapesmith asks, which is immediately shut down but a hand on the shoulder from Bulletproof and a shake of the head.

“You will each receive a detailed briefing later today by handout.” Donald explains to the three of you that agreed to attend. “The Gala is located on the donor’s personal land in northern Montana. The morning after will consist of a special guest brunch which you all will be attending as well. There will be rooming for you there as they want you on scene all night long just in case. And it would also be easier on resources to keep you all there.”

“Who is this person?” You inquire, Donald has not said anything specific this whole conversation other than where this dance would take place, and that the mystery person was a donor for the GDA.

“That will be in the handout you receive.” He stated concisely.

“Why all the secrecy?” Rex furrows his brow, folding his arms.

“Discretion is involved regarding every donor.” Donald responds, straightening his tie. “The gala is tomorrow night, you will all be flown in tomorrow afternoon, outfits and identities will be assigned to you.”

Bulletproof looked exceptionally put out, Rex looked like he was trying to solve long division in his head, and you? Well, you were borderline ecstatic.

You would never get used to using a private jet. After so long flying commercially, all the space felt like heaven. Your back didn’t start aching after the first hour, you could stand up and stretch your legs, even more you could write an essay about the bathroom. The other times you had traveled in the Guardian-affiliated-jet it had been the whole team. Now it was just you, Bulletproof, and, worst of all, Rex.

The carpet was a crisp maroon, the rest of the interior was a sterile white. Which you thought sharply contrasted with the Guardians of the Globe headquarters, that consisted mostly of aluminum tones. The walls of the plane’s interior were accented with mahogany plating, something you couldn’t decide if you thought was tacky or classy. The opinion changed every mission.

Any excitement at the prospect of being in semi-close quarters with Rex again was quickly drowned out by Rex and Bulletproof incessantly bickering.

“I’m just saying I still think you could have come up with a more inspired name.”

“I’m about to be inspired to knock your teeth out.” Bulletproof spit back.

You didn’t get between them, eventually they would both wear themselves out.

The clouds outside your window hung far below. Clustered together, forming wool-like patterns. For a moment you imagined what it would be like to surf on it. Then you looked back at the handout Donald had provided you each with. The three of you were meant to be covert, blend in. You were each free to use your own names, as apparently most of these people were not horribly well-informed. However, you each had been assigned backstories. You were a philanthropist by blood, having inherited a section of the oil industry. Rex was a wildlife activist who had traveled all over the world. Zandale was meant to be a journalist who was writing about the event for Time Magazine. Hopefully, there wasn’t someone there actually from Time Magazine, but you guessed that Donald already checked the guest list for that.

When you first read through it you had mentioned to the other two that you thought it was odd that Rex was the person who had been all over, rather than Zandale, who could fly.

“I have been all over.” Rex had said defensively.

“What? When?” You had scoffed.

“Just…well, a while ago, I don’t fucking know.” The tension in the room had skyrocketed for reasons you weren’t sure of, so you didn’t ask further.

The donor was someone named Dr. Mune. Apparently, the doctor was a genius. Having created many of the lifesaving measures the GDA is still using today. One of those included the brand-new hand Rex was situated with. You wish you could have seen Rex’s reaction to that information. Would it make him work harder on the mission? Or did he feel indifferent to it? It made you feel more connected to the job; the new hand was nothing short of a work of art. Memories of how it felt against your touch flood your vision, sending electricity down your spine.

“Joy?” You turned as Rex said your nickname, feeling annoyance at the sound of it after it had been used so long as an insult. Or at least that was how you had formerly perceived it.

You hummed in response, waiting for him to speak.

“Well, what do you think?” Rex said, tilting his head.

“I think you’re both extremely annoying.”

“God, I already know that. Focus! Whose name is better?”

They both looked at you expectantly. It was weird to see Bulletproof, or rather Zandale, without his goggles on.

“Do I have to take a vote?” You sighed heavily, turning back to the window.

“Yes.” They responded in unison.

“I like Invincible’s name most probably.”

“That was not one of the options but thank you for reminding us of your crush.” Rex retorted, a hint of bitterness lacing his words.

You scoffed, turning back towards them, ready to correct him, only to hear Zandale let out a laugh. Your gaze snapped to him, eyes narrowing. He was pursing his lips and purposefully not looking at either of you. Shit. Rae hadn’t been joking. Great.

“What?” Rex looked at him too, his brow drawing together tensely.

He bit the corner of his upper lip, looking up at you first then at Rex, then back and forth a few times. GREAT.

“How do you know I don’t have the hots for Bulletproof here, hm?” You panicked, you had to say anything to get him to get off Zandale’s obvious trail.

This caused them both to turn their attention to you. “What?” They said in unison again, which made you laugh.

“God, you two are like Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum, I’m surprised you don’t get along better.”

Rex shook his head while holding his hands up as if putting away all of this information to deal with later. “Okay, can you just answer the original question?”

You hum again, you could be honest, or you could really mess with Rex. Unfortunately for Rex… “Honestly, probably Bulletproof.”

“Suck it!” Zandale shoots up out of his seat, doing some kind of air-pump gesture.

“You- you’re lying! She’s fucking lying don’t listen to her!” Rex holds his hands out in distraught, watching as Bulletproof had his own little celebration.

For a brief moment, you made eye contact with him, smiling the cheesiest grin. His annoyed expression softened as he sucked on his teeth. For that small moment, it felt like it was just the two of you. Your smile shrunk into something more genuine, gentler. And for some reason, you waved. It was small, you hardly lifted your hand. His gaze dropped to it, and a small smile ghosted over his lips before he returned the action. His free hand gripping the armrest tightly.

Bulletproof had nodded off, his head rested against the edge of the window next to his seat. You were thankful more than anything he didn’t snore. He had already changed into his tuxedo for the night, it bunched up at his chest while he slouched against it. Someone, somewhere in high society would have cried at the sight.

You and Rex hadn’t changed yet. Rex exclaimed that he wanted to remain a free man as long as possible, and you thought it would be more exciting to dress up closer to landing time. Your stomach was already starting to twist unpleasantly each time the pilot announced the amount of time until arrival. It was similar to your first mission, fresh, and unfamiliar. A good portion of your stomach aches revolved around glances to the other side of the plane at your teammate. After the conversation had died down, he hadn’t looked in your direction once. You would have felt hurt by it, wondered if he was starting to hate you again. But it felt too charged, too intentional. The old Rex wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot a glare in your direction. This was nothing like that.

You would glance over at him from time to time, his gaze was on his lap, and had been for almost an hour, his hands clasped together, left thumb tapping the tip of his right one. You were positive he could see you somewhat, because every time you looked over his jaw clenched.

We will be making our descent in forty-five minutes.

“I’m gonna get dressed.” You whisper so as to not wake up Zandale while rising out of your seat. Rex practically jumps out of his seat at the broken silence.

He clears his throat. “Okay.”

What was that? “Are you okay?” You grab the garment bag containing your dress, and the shoe box next to it from the overhead rack.

Rex nods, letting out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, obviously, I just forgot you were here.”

“You forgot I was here?” You raised a brow, holding the garment bag over your shoulder as you turned to look at him.

“What? I’ve got a lot on my mind. Whole…mission and everything.”

“Okay, weirdo.” You laugh, moving towards the nose of the plane where the restroom is located.

Once inside, you pulled the dress out. It was a silky material- well, it probably was silk now that you thought about it. You would have to thank Donald for whatever strings he had pulled to make it your favorite color. The dress was sleeveless, with a mock neckline. It was fairly simple, the end of the dress reached down to your ankles. The shoes had a few inches of heel to them, which made you hope there would not be any hitches in the night, as you’d have to ditch them the moment you needed to sprint anywhere.

After getting it all situated and neatly folding your streetwear you started to pull the zipper up on the back of your dress, only for it to get to a point on your back you couldn’t reach.

A few beats of silence passed before you tried reaching your hand over your shoulder to get it, with no success.

You were not going to be able to do it on your own. How had women for decades zipped their dresses alone? Should you take it off, zip it, and try to pull it over your head? If it ripped in any way you were royally screwed. With a defeated sigh, you grabbed your stuff, put your hand out towards the door, and slowly pushed it up.

Rex was standing in the aisle, pushing his show box back into the overhead space. He had gotten dressed at the same time as you. Got dressed is a loose way of putting it. If someone could spin their way into clothing, you imagine they would look like Rex did now.

“You’re going to wrinkle it.” You put your things down in the first seat you walked by, straightening out the front of your dress absentmindedly as you made your way to him.

“I don’t think the shoes are going to wrinkle-” Rex started with a scoff before he closed his mouth from the scathing look you gave him and…something else.

“The suit, jackass.” You try not to smile, as you finally reach him. “This is supposed to be buttoned- you missed one of your shirt buttons.” You point out, the end of his dress shirt lopsided at the bottom. “Your shirt is also meant to be tucked in. Didn’t you see how Zandale looked?” You hold your hands out offering to help but he brushes you off, undoing his shirt himself with a groan.

“Since when were you two on a first-name basis?” He mumbled, working his way down them.

“Since I started treating him like a human being, so always.” You roll your eyes at him, folding your arms as you wait for him to catch up.

Did you forget he was, for lack of a more delicate way to put it, completely and totally built? No. You had seen his torso before, you had spent the better part of a half-hour with your hand pressed to it, healing him after a wound you had inflicted. But this wasn’t like that time. Then, you had been focused on the shame you had felt for causing the injury in the first place. Now, you were a bystander. Waiting to tell him how to properly wear his suit.

At first, you watched him, the way his hands flexed with each button. How the white linen of his shirt accented his chest underneath, which was becoming more and more visible. The way his chest rose and fell subtly with each inaudible huff. You eventually had to look away, determined to look at anything that wasn’t the warm tone of his skin.

His hands caught slightly on the last button, and he muttered something about ‘not having to put up with this shit’ as if he wasn’t the one to put it on wrong in the first place. “So, I just-?” He started from the bottom, lining each hole up to its corresponding button. He paused after a few, glancing up at you as if checking he was doing it right.

“Yep.” Your voice cracked in the worst way, forcing you to clear your throat as inconspicuously as possible. “Have you never worn a button-up?” Anything to get your mind off the fact you were blushing right now based on how warm you were feeling.

“You don’t really get the opportunity much in this business. Only time it’s ever come up was for funerals. The only one I’ve ever considered going to was for the old GDA director. But I didn’t end up going so…” He pauses for a moment, his thumb rubbing a few times over the material. “This good?” He asks, holding his hands up so you can see.

“Yeah, that’s good.” You respond softly. “Now you’ve got to tuck it in.” A breath passes as he does as you say. “What was he like?” You aren’t sure if you should ask, but you do any ways.

He stops what he’s doing and looks up at you. Making direct eye contact for the first time since your wave earlier. “The director?” A small look of confusion spreads over his features, clearly not thinking you would ask further.

“Yeah, I’ve never heard anything about him.” You tighten your arms closer over your torso, nibbling on the inside of your cheek.

“Oh, well-” He continues tucking his shirt in, “He was, well he was an asshole is what he was. If you think Cecil is uncaring, you should have seen Director Radcliffe.”

Even from the way Rex called him by his title rather than his first name like Cecil, you could feel the difference in relationship. “Were you around him a lot?”

“Yeah.” Rex said softly. “Okay, so I button this up then or do I leave it open?” He gestured to his suit vest.

You file away that conversation for later, not wanting to push him further than he was comfortable with. “Yes, you button that.”

“Do I tuck it in?”

“No.”

“What about this?”

“Wait, where’s your tie?”

Rex looks around for a moment, his hands suspended out partially as he looks around. “It was…ah, here.” He holds it up triumphantly after grabbing it from where it lay crumpled a few seats down. It was the exact same shade as your dress, in the same silky texture. You wanted to sigh. You were going to look like prom dates.

“I’m guessing you don’t know how to tie it?”

Rex looks down at it for a split second before looking back at you. “Do I really need it?”

“Yes. You will stand out immediately. This whole thing is supposed to be undercover, remember?” You hold your hand out for him to hand it to you.

“You know how to tie it?” He looks at you with suspicion, as if you’re trying to pull a fast one.

“Yes, now will you let me help you?” He looks down at it for a moment, then begrudgingly gives it. “I learned in the hospital, I had this one patient who never let me heal him, but he always wanted to wear a tie.” You start as you signal for him to bend down, he does so without convincing and you hook it around his neck, angling it so it would rest under his upturned collar. “He never wore a suit or anything, but he insisted on wearing one over his gown. The first day I was there, I had no clue. He got really mad, huffed, puffed, the whole act. Told me he never wanted to see me again unless I learned how to tie a tie.” You looped it, “When I got back to my apartment, I was so frustrated. I swore I was going to quit at the hospital, quit with Cecil, everything. I was scared to join the Guardians, and I didn’t think I was ready-”

“You were scared to join the Guardians?” Rex interrupted; a quick glance up revealed that he was staring at you intently. You returned your eyes to your work, ignoring the rekindled heat that spread across your face.

“Don’t interrupt. Anyways, I was so mad. I picked up my phone to call Cecil, I was done. And then I got distracted. I opened a tutorial on how to tie a tie, then another. And soon enough I had watched way more than I needed, and I was sure if I tried again I could do it.”

“And did you?”

“No.” You laughed, “I screwed it up immediately, and he threw his Jello at me.”

“Jesus, really?”

You nodded. “And then I went back the next day and tried again, and the same the day after that. Until one day I did it right. He never thanked me or acknowledged the times before, but slowly he started telling me about his life. His wife who passed away a few years ago, his children that didn’t know where he was. Everything. I used to look forward to seeing him.” You finished tying it, but you didn’t let go quite yet.

“Do you still see him?” Rex’s voice came out soft, you could feel his words against your face.

“He died.” It was short, simple, but not sweet. Bitter reality. “He had stage four leukemia, even if he had let me heal him it wouldn’t have mattered. I can’t fix stuff like that.” You folded down his collar, your fingers lingering over it. You could feel his body heat just below the fabric.

“Did you go to his funeral?” You looked up at that. His gaze wasn’t on you but shifted to the side. You weren’t sure what response he was looking for, or why he asked, but you answered.

“No.” It was a quiet response, uttered so soft he could hardly hear, even from his close proximity. He met your gaze, searching it quietly. And you let him, staring right back.

Five minutes to arrival.

The pilot’s voice jarred you both, causing you to let go of his tie, and remove your fingers from his collar. The sudden interruption sent Rex back into a fully upright position, rather than the slouch he had been partaking in for your ease. He shoved the tie under his suit vest and straightened out the jacket.

“How do I look?”

You held your hand up in a spinning motion and he did a quick turn. “You clean up pretty well. Almost looks like you weren’t in the hospital a few days ago.” He looked good, so good you didn’t want to keep looking at him. This almost qualified as torture.

“That’s all I needed to hear.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling from the depth of it. Just that small detail made your stomach flip. You needed to get this under control-

Oh, right, your dress. “Rex, can you actually help me with his?”

He nods, waiting for you to do something but you just stand there. Shit, you should have just risked ripping the damn thing. “It’s my dress. I can’t get it zipped.”

“Oh.” He blinks a few times. “Your dress has been unzipped this whole time?”

“I got it part of the way, so it’s not falling off or anything, calm down.” You tried to joke but your palms were sweating. If anyone needed to calm down, it was you. All you were doing was asking for a zip, pull yourself together. After checking that he was still waiting to help, you shake out your hands at your sides and then turn so he can do what you’ve asked. “Hopefully you’re better at zipping than buttoning.” The chuckle that follows your words is dry.

“I think I can manage.” His voice is low, and you can feel his breath fanning over the back of your neck, causing you to suppress a shiver. You should have asked Bulletproof, woken him up, or something. You can feel his fingertips press lightly into your back as he holds the two sides together so that his other hand can pull up the zipper. The contact itself gives you goosebumps, every thought you can conjure now that isn’t about the feel of him is praying that he doesn’t notice. “I think you’re set.”

“Thanks, Rex.” His hands don’t leave your back in haste, his left hand brushing over your exposed shoulder blade. You turn a notch, looking at him against your better judgment.

He clears his throat and puts his hands down. “You’re set.”

“You said that already.” You smile, mildly confused.

He stares at you again, expression unreadable, and his jaw ticking like before. Then, he steps back. “Someone’s got to wake sleeping beauty.” His previous expression fades and is replaced by one of mischief, as he tips over to where Bulletproof is. Fully intending to scare him awake.

The plane eventually landed, and the three of you talked about your game plans, which ended up just being ‘don’t be suspicious, mingle-’ pretty self-explanatory.

“Where are we?” You were looking out the window, your fingers splayed out around it as you leaned down. There were other planes around you, but from the way you were angled, you couldn’t see the airport.

Both of the guys shrugged, helpful as always. You moved to the nose of the plane where the pilot had already opened up the door.

“Holy shit.”

“What?” Rex followed up close behind you.

“We landed in the backyard.”

Rex looked out at the other planes lined up next to you and then over at the looming mansion. “What the fuck?”

Author's Note: Rex is so yapper boyfriend core. Guys tell me what color’s your dresses and Rex’s tie is :3

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 @0ut0fsweets @sugaramped @spidernuggets @sweet-cuddlebug @ohmysoultakemysoul request to be tagged for new parts!

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spidernuggets · 24 days ago

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i did it.

#rex splode #rex sloan #rex sloan x reader #rex splode x reader #rex x rae #invincible rex splode #rex invincible #invincible #rae #shrinking rae

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spidernuggets · 25 days ago

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guys what if i drew this but rae and rex? thoughts.!.!?!?!.!.?!

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spidernuggets · 25 days ago

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Crawling Back to You

Chapter fifteen

Synopsis: Rex doesn’t seem to mind you company much, and you don’t mind giving it, at first.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Chapter: 15/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: None

Note: Reader is the festering final boss. I also realized I haven’t really been offering for people to join the taglist, so let me know if you want me to add you!

Rejection was starting to get easier. Maybe it was because you had real-world experience now that you didn’t have before. Or maybe it was because you had more important things to worry about than whether a patient was going to let you heal them or not.

“I did it!” You said, almost ecstatic. You panted out a few breaths, putting your hands on your knees to try to regain your loss of oxygen.

“Did you just run here?” Cecil said dryly, handing some kind of booklet to a worker standing nearby.

“Yes!” You straightened up, still not having caught your breath. “I did it!” You repeated again, giddiness overtaking your composure.

“Don’t waste my time, kid. Did what?”

You open your mouth to answer then realize it might not be the best idea to blurt this out with everyone else around. “Oh… uh… The thing-”

He blinked at you a few times before sighing and rolling his eyes. “Alright, everyone out.” Without missing a beat the different agents and workers around the room hastily made their exit. To hold that much respect, so much immediate power. You were almost jealous; you couldn’t seem to ever get anything done without everyone around you questioning you or being suspicious. “Now, what are you talking about?”

“Viltrumite blood.” Your excitement hadn’t ebbed. “I just tested it out in the room, it’s easy- like ridiculously easy-”

“Christ, have you slept at all?”

“Yes.” You tightened your brow a bit, feeling mildly offended. “Am I allowed to be excited about something we have been working on for months or-?”

He nodded quietly, taking in the information while putting a hand over his mouth in thought. “How do you know?”

“I-” You were starting to feel a little deflated. “Well, I mean I just said, I tested it out in the training room…on the blood bag?” You wrapped your arms around you in a defensive stance. “And I felt it, yesterday I saw Mark- or Invincible or whatever. We shook hands, and I felt it. It was like he was just another person, but still, I don’t know- different.”

“Different?”

You thought carefully for a moment. “I suppose you could think about it like getting water somewhere on a trip, or just in a new place in general. The water at home you are used to, it tastes like home and you’re comfortable drinking it. Then you go somewhere new, and in other places it can taste weird, or bad even, I guess. It tastes like water, you know it’s water. But you’d rather the stuff from home.”

Cecil hummed softly, still thinking. Although you doubted he ever stopped even when he was off duty. If he ever was. “Very good, Killdeer.”

“Yeah?” You felt your excitement return a little from the direct praise.

“Yes, this is good. I want you integrated back in with the Guardians.”

“Wait, what? Already?” Your grip around your arms loosened a little, this was not at all the direction you had expected this to go.

“Yes, already. We are down three Guardians.”

“Won’t there be some resistance?” You responded quietly.

“I have spoken with the Immortal and Robot. I explained that the fainting spells are from overexertion and they took it well enough. It should get them off your back, but honestly, I’m sure it’ll still be tense.” He shifts slightly as if he isn’t sure what to say next. “Donald told me about your discussion.”

You nodded, swallowing roughly at the mention of the topic you had been avoiding thinking about since your conversation with Donald. Maybe you should be angrier with Cecil, furious that he hid it from you. You had been unhappy at the idea of it, but after talking to Donald you had received almost a type of closure. Last night you hadn’t been plagued by your repetitive nightmare. It wasn’t gone, you knew you would be seeing that grotesque imagery for a long while still to come. But now, you knew what it was. Why it happened. A part of you still blamed yourself. You should have swept the perimeter, asked Cecil if there would likely be anyone else on the premises. At the end of the day though, it had happened. You didn’t have control over it, you weren’t even conscious while doing it. But it had still happened.

Cecil had done a lot for you, at least it felt that way. He found you and encouraged your abilities. He trained you, got you a specialized room in the training facility and in the hospital. You had grown fond of him. A small voice chirped in the back of your head, was it possible you were making excuses for him? Not properly holding him accountable for anything he has done?

As if you’re the one to be holding anyone accountable.

“I am glad to see you’re…shit, I don’t know, taking it well?” He was never amazing at being sentimental or comforting. He could do it, but it seemed like he only had it in limited quantities. Saving it for widows and orphans.

You gave him a tight smile. “I manage.” After a moment of loaded silence, you spoke up again. “When should I check in with the Guardians?”

“Soon. Within the next few days is preferred.”

“Where did you even find this?”

“Oh, don’t get started with me, I never buy this shit.” You dropped two magazines on his lap, you had seen it for free in a random kiosk while walking outside the hospital. It was about two times smaller than the magazines Eve had brought.

“You paid money for this?” He held them up, his mouth drawn together in an almost too-intentional frown. The way his lips were slightly quivering told you that he was struggling not to laugh.

“You gonna pay me back?” You asked, sitting at the end of his bed like you had the last visit.

He opens his mouth to respond with indignation, but his words are delayed slightly as he watches you. Maybe you should have just sat in the recliner rather than right against his leg. You hadn’t even considered he might not want you to. “Well…fuck, how much were these?”

“Twenty bucks.” You lied, a small smile spreading across your face as you looked down at the booklets you had given him. They were so obviously not worth that much that it tickled you.

“Twenty- what the fuck?” He itched the section of his head that was available to him outside of the helmet contraption. “You got scammed.”

“Not my problem, is it?” You held your hand out, knowing full well he most assuredly did not have his wallet anywhere nearby.

“Just add it to my tab.” He sighs, leaning back again in his bed.

You had seen him when you first arrived this morning. Tension filling your body as you peeked through the curtains. His whole demeanor had changed at the sight of you, that same shit-eating grin that you had seen the night before spreading across his face. If he was going to be nice you were not complaining. You even found him…enjoyable? Now that he wasn’t giving you that telltale look of disgust, and spitting accusations against you, you were actually getting to know him a little. So far the conversation had mostly revolved around furniture and home décor. But this morning he even talked a little about Mark. Which you listened to with bated breath.

“Are you even listening?”

You nodded a little too quickly, with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Aw shit. You’ve got some schoolgirl crush on him, don’t you?”

“Oh, brother.” You rolled your eyes. “Have you never had a favorite hero, Rex?”

“Yes, and you’re looking at him.” He had said, looking a little bitter for the rest of your visit.

Eventually, you left to go run rounds, but now you had come back. The doctor you had been working with had shooed you away after practically tripping over you for the fifth time. Why not see just how new and improved Rex seemed to be?

You pulled your phone out in an exaggerated manner, opening your notes.

Rex’s head snapped up to watch you. “You’re not.” He uttered in disbelief

“I am.” You said, your smile grew more by the second as you typed ‘Rex: $20’ and showed the screen to him.

“Ugh. More stingy than a hooker.”

“With much less of the fun.” You laughed, putting your phone away.

“Those didn’t even cost you twenty bucks, did they?” He gave you a nasty look, but it wasn’t the same as any he had given you before. This one didn’t have the load of intention behind it. He was enjoying your company, even with all your uncertainties you knew this for sure.

You simply shrugged at him, until he let it go scoffing to himself.

“Do you want me to…” You paused, knowing it was best not to get too comfortable. Against the warning buzzers going off in your head, you decided to offer it anyway. “Do you want me to help you at all?” It was vague, you knew it was. But you also knew he would understand what you were implying.

He blinked at you, his residual smile fading slightly. “Well…”

“It’s fine really, don’t feel bad for saying no. If you ever feel bad for anything-” Fuck.

“What?” He brow drew together slightly but he didn’t say anything else, waiting for you to clarify.

“Sorry, that was- really rude, actually, shit.” Yeah, you were not making this any better. “This is just a little jarring for me.” You held your hand out at him.

“Did you just gesture to all of me?”

“Yes?” You winced, a shade of embarrassment dusting your cheeks.

He sighed, but his disposition towards you didn’t close. “I guess that makes sense.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He almost snapped, a semblance of the Rex you had known poking through. “Sorry.” He said without wasting a single breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

So, it was a conscious choice. He was choosing to be nicer. The realization of this overtook any hurt your ego might have obtained from his retort. Was this his way of apologizing for being a dirtbag to you for so long? Rather than saying it directly he just intended to pretend it never happened? You weren’t sure how the prospect of this sat with you.

“Almost broke your cover there.” You said softly, hoping your response would be well received rather than egging him on further.

He was still pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed. But his lips perked up in an unmissable smile.

You felt a little more comfortable after seeing that, so you poked his leg to get his attention. His eyes opened, his gaze landing where your hand had touched then slowly traveled up to your face.

“So, what about it?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes drilled into you until you felt the need to look away. That unfamiliar feeling from yesterday returned briefly.

“Fine.” He rasped out with feigned reluctance. “But you’re not going to accidentally fuse this thing to my head, are you? ‘Cause I’ve already got accelerated healing and shit; I don’t have to risk it.” He pointed up to the metal contraption with his metal-enclosed stub.

You pretend to consider the possibility, then shrug. “I actually don’t know.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Who said I was trying to make you feel better?” You met his eyes again as you chuckled. For that moment you wondered if he was remembering the first time you had almost this exact same interaction. Back in his room after you had accidentally injured him. That felt like a lifetime ago now.

“Fine, let’s get it over with, Nurse Joy.” He sat up, shaking his hand out a few times before holding it out to you.

“Okay, what is that all about?”

“You don’t know who Nurse Joy is?” He looked genuinely surprised.

“Should I?”

“Did you even have a childhood?”

You just gave him an incredulous look.

“Ugh.” He pulled his hand back as you stood up to move to the recliner. Since it had wheels it was much easier to pull up to the bedside and comfortably sit next to him rather than pulling him towards the other end of the bed. “Pokémon?”

“Pokémon?” You repeated, he had to be joking.

“Yeah, fucking Pokémon, get over it.” He grumbled quietly.

“The kid’s show?”

“As I said, did you even have a childhood?”

You laughed, he seemed surprisingly embarrassed for having been the one to give you the nickname in the first place.

“I watched some SpongeBob.” You said intentionally, knowing it would irritate him. Whether it was true or not was another story. For you to know, not for him.

“Figures.” He gives you a sideways glance which you pointedly ignore. You hold out your hand, waiting for him to willingly give you his forearm, after a second’s hesitation he gives it to you. He feels warm, you’re almost concerned he has a fever, but from how lucid he is you doubt it. You brush your thumb lightly over his skin as your fingers grasp the underside of his forearm. You could swear you felt him jerk slightly. It was possible your hands were cold to him. If he felt this warm to you, they had to be.

“You good?” Rex hadn’t breathed in since you grabbed his arm. “I know it feels uncomfortable at first, but are you really not used to it yet?”

“Are you seriously asking me if I am used to feeling my skin stitch together on its own?” You nodded curtly. “Jesus Christ.” He sat back against his bed as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

You snickered before closing your eyes to concentrate.

“You’re back?” Bulletproof froze at the door of the training room just as he was about to enter.

You glanced back at him, internally sighing. “Yep. Surprise!”

He nodded before continuing into the room, taking residence at a machine next to you. “You enjoy your break?”

You tried and failed to hold back a scoff. “Break? What break?”

He lifted several plates onto the metal bar before settling his back against the bench. “About the best you’re going to get around here.”

“How was the whole mars thing?” Small talk didn’t bother you much, it was better than tense silence. And at least he was being amicable.

“Shitty. After all of that, I’m surprised Shapesmith is staying on the team, but I ain’t leading it so-”

The conversation lulled briefly. Shapesmith was not someone you harbored poor feelings for, but it would be a lie to say you weren’t at least mildly bitter that everything came so easy to the guy. Even worse, you didn’t think he even realized just how easy he was having it.

With everything that had been happening, and all of it happening so quickly you hadn’t sat and thought about how miserable you had been. Shit, it was hard to imagine that at one point you had been attending missions with the Guardians without resistance. You were been going on missions solo too, with zero failures so far. Well…one failure. They didn’t even know about that and still, you never felt welcome. Rae was lovely, Bulletproof was cordial. Shapesmith did whatever he does, and Amanda didn’t seem to mind you. But the people who disliked you made it known, more than the people who liked you or felt neutral did.

Immortal demanding your submission hadn’t only occurred the one time. Every mission you had with him felt like a humiliation ritual. He would pause briefings to call you out specifically, asking you to repeat what he had just said. Like a fucking schoolteacher. Kate would either glance at you out of the corner of her eye, or she’d snicker quietly. Rudy let you be, but even he would question you in briefings, asking you what exactly you were planning to do. It made sense at first, to them you were just a healer. They have no clue what else you were capable of. Even still, they knew you had enhanced strength and durability as much as the next person. The first few missions should have been proof enough.

You felt yourself starting to get worked up at the unpleasant memories. Black Sampson, although he never paid you much mind, had taken it upon himself to scold you after a stakeout. Cecil and Donald lied to you to your face. And Rex… God, Rex took up enough space in your subconscious to write a fucking book. And now he got to act a little nice and it was like it never even happened? You had played into it, been glad for the lack of hostility after so long with it. Now as you were letting it fully sink in though, you realized that you needed something. You need an apology. Even if you felt that you were responsible for what happened to him and Rae, it didn’t erase everything he had done.

Still stewing in your own corner of regrets and grudges a voice sounded off that drew you out of it. At least, for the time being.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back.”

You gave Bulletproof a genuine smile. “Me too.”

You had been avoiding his room all day. It was like there was a detector in your head that sent off sirens every time you neared it. You thought sleeping on it would make it easier to manage but you had simply just festered. Rex was getting better. Today they were removing the headgear after you had rendered it useless with one session. As much as you hate to admit it, your return to hospital work has had extreme benefits. All of the work you did on Rex hadn’t even left you with a residual twinge. In the moment it hurt a little, but the second you removed your hand, it was over.

‘You don’t deserve to be in the Guardians’ How many times had he used that stale line with you? You weren’t worth it.

When a break finally made its way into your schedule you decided to sit in Rae’s room. Picking at something you put together haphazardly at the cafeteria earlier. “He’s so annoying.” You continued a small rant you had started up; every added sentiment just fueled the fire. Rae was not conscious to hear any of your ramblings. However, once she finally woke up you were sure she would be happy for that.

You dropped your food back onto your tray. “Do I even have the right to still be mad?” You looked her over with a sigh, before pulling her blanket up a bit higher. She was no longer in the incubator. After a brief discussion with her doctor, he told you that she was healing at a quick rate, her body was just keeping her in a comma-like state until she was healed up better. For a moment, you considered it, it would be so easy to reach forward and press your fingertips to her arm, speed it up. Cecil had told you specifically not to accelerate her healing. He probably had his reasons, not that he ever told you them.

“I miss you.” You said it softly, a whisper. “I’m sorry I didn’t go with Rex. I don’t know if I could have stopped this, but I wish I had been able to try.” Her face showed no signs of change. The beeping on the monitor remains the same. What else had you expected?

“Sorry, I thought I heard your voice in here.” A nurse poked her head through the door, you had seen her a lot over the several days you’d been spending almost all your time at the hospital. Her name was…Stephanie? Or Stacy? Hannah?

“Yep, I’m here. Do you need me?”

“Oh, it’s no rush, Rex was just asking about you.”

“Oh, really?” You scoffed, looking back at Rae as if she could see the irony of the situation.

“…yep.” She thought you were quite odd.

“I’ll check on him in a bit, thank you.” You sighed the moment the nurse left, leaning further back into the recliner as if you could shrink out of existence. Eventually, you had to face him, you were just wasting time. “Don’t go anywhere, yeah?” Again, no response. “Tough crowd.” Hopefully, if she had been conscious, she would laugh at that rather than leave you in the awkward silence you had made for yourself.

The short walk to Rex’s room felt even shorter today, as you stood outside of it you wondered what you would say. Would you play nice? That is what you seemed to do best. You’d done it this far at least. Confrontation scared you. Eventually he would leave this room and the two of you would be on the same team again. Then again, the chance of things being awkward never had deterred him before. If it had, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Hello, Rex-” You started as you walked in, but you stopped as soon as you saw him. He was asleep. A hand still gripped around one of the pathetic magazines you had gotten for him. You had never seen him look so relaxed, almost peaceful.

God, you were becoming soft, you should wake him up and demand an apology, something. But you didn’t. You stepped past the curtain, took the magazine out of his hand, and placed it quietly on the pile. The hospital blankets always felt scratchy to you, maybe you should offer to bring his duvet from his room at the Headquarters. You straighten it out gently, your hand brushing over his in the gesture.

If the circumstances had been different, you wonder if the two of you could have ever been friends.

Groundhog Day. That’s a movie, right? The one where Bill Murray lives the same day over and over until he learns to fall in love or something like that. It’d been a while since you saw it, but it didn’t seem to matter. As far as you knew you were living it. Wake up, hospital, Guardians, hospital, Rae, apartment, sleep. Over and over. You had stopped by Rex’s room a few times since the last time, but it was oddly quiet, he would just read or asked you about your day. It wasn’t unpleasant, but you were positive he could sense your shift in demeanor. Maybe he was worried that if he talked too much you would remember that you were upset with him. Rae still wasn’t awake yet, but the doctor assured you it would be any day now.

“Check this shit out.” Rex flexed his left hand for you to admire.

“Oh, wow.” It was like a toddler showing you a bark chip at the park that was bigger than the rest.

“Oh, come on, you don’t think it’s at least a little cool?”

“It’s cool, Rex. But I can’t credit you for any of that, you literally had no hand in making it or installing it or-”

“Did you just make a pun?”

“Have you ever looked into getting diagnosed with ADHD or, I don’t know, literally anything that is wrong with you?”

He laughed, rubbing his new hand absentmindedly. “What’s got you so pissed off, hm?”

“Should I go grab a mirror?” You said it like it was a joke, but honestly, you weren’t sure why you were feeling so sour. You were suspicious it was probably because of the Groundhog Day thing though.

He’s quiet for a beat, looking down at his hand as if waiting for it to move on his own. “Fuck, I’m- well, you know.” He gestured at you helplessly.

“What?” You laugh, confusion clear in your inflection.

“You know.” He reiterates, his mouth opening and closing while he tries to formulate the words.

“I’m not good at riddles.” You raise an eyebrow at him, squinting slightly.

“Christ, well you know-”

“You already said that.”

“Hold on!” He would have been wringing his hands through his hair if it wasn’t about two centimeters long. “Well, I’m sorry.”

You sat for a second waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. “Oh, that’s it? That’s all you were trying to say?”

“Baby steps, okay?” He puts his hands over his face like he’s being physically pained.

“…Okay?” Should you push him to see what exactly he was sorry for? Or just hope he meant for everything and let it go?

“I was an ass.”

“Was is a loose term-”

“Okay, first of all, can you let me get this out or are you just going to keep interjecting?”

You tilted your head to each side as if deciding, but you didn’t say anything else.

“I was an ass, and I still am.” He glanced over at you. “But I was really fucking shitty to you. And maybe it took a bullet to the head to fully see it, which is not amazing.”

You hummed in agreement, which earned you a scathing look.

“But either way, I regret it. You have always…carried your weight with the team. I just don’t like new things.” Once again you think he’s going to continue but he doesn’t.

“Oh, uh-” He’s almost wincing waiting for your response. “You don’t do this a lot do you?”

“Are you telling me I’m bad at apologizing?”

“I’d never dream of it.” You rolled your eyes, but you gave him a subtle smile. “I appreciate it.”

He nods at you, the edges of his mouth downturned trying to hide his own grin.

“Let me see.” You hold your hand out, gesturing for him to let you see his new hand.

“Hm?” He doesn’t move, holding his hand in the other direction further away from you.

“God, what do you think I’m going to do? Rip it off? Let me see. You were the one talking all high and mighty about it.”

“Be careful.” He apprehensively holds it out to you.

“Are you kidding me?” You blink a few times at him.

“I don’t know!” He says defensively. “It’s all new to me too.”

You shake your head at him, taking your nondominant hand and placing it under his wrist, then you use your dominant hand to trace lines over the faux skin. “It feels real, did they tell you what it’s made of?”

Rex didn’t respond with haste, his eyes focused on your hands. “Uh, I think they said something but I kind of wasn’t listening.”

“I don’t know what else I expected.” You sighed, placing your palm against his knuckles. You couldn’t feel…anything. Whatever this was there was no blood in it. It was entirely mechanical. “It feels so real.” You murmured softly, more to yourself than to Rex. “Lemme see the other one.” He held out his other hand without hesitation, flexing it slightly before you touched it. Now you had a hand on either of his. It was interesting, how much you could feel in his right versus his left. You were so focused on it that you got carried away for a moment, your fingers brushing lightly over his real hand.

“Does it feel the same?” Your voice came out in a hushed whisper, you were trailing your index fingers over the two separate hands. After a pause you looked up at Rex, who looked down at his hands as soon as you made eye contact.

“Uh…Yeah pretty- I’d say pretty similar.” He swallowed roughly.

You should let go, this was going on for longer than it should, you were going to make him uncomfortable. His hands were soft though, and when you brushed your touch over his knuckles on either hand, he flexed them, as if it was a reflex. It fascinated you. But it did something else too, it brought back that feeling. The one you’d been ignoring. You liked that the smallest touch caused his body to react in some way. In any way. You would have to put that away to think about later.

“Hello!” A chipper voice forced its way through your thoughts. Causing you to immediately draw back your hands from Rex. Shit, now it looked even worse because you had jumped so hard. The heat that was quickly manifesting on your face probably was also not doing you any extra favors.

“Hey, Eve.” Rex straightened up, clenching his fists against the hospital bed. “You bring any more magazines?”

“I don’t know how often you think that they release more of those, but it is not that often.” She sits down at the end of his bed, her gaze landing on you. “Hello again.”

“Hi.” You responded. You needed out. NOW.

“We didn’t get to properly meet, my name’s Eve, or, well it’s Samantha but everyone calls me Eve.”

You say your name in return, giving a mildly awkward nod of your head. God you were making it worse.

“I thought your name was Joy?” Eve gives Rex a quizzical look, and he doesn’t return it, suddenly very interested in the seam of his shirt.

“So, how did you and Rex meet?” You really didn’t want to open that can of worms again.

“We were on the Teen Team together. That was a lifetime ago though.” She smiled at him.

Now, you had no reason to feel at all jealous. You didn’t even like Rex. Eve seemed really nice, and you were actually interested in learning more about her. But something about the way she sat down without hesitation, and the smiles she kept giving him were making you feel mildly queasy. You should really get more sleep. “The Teen Team?”

“You never heard of the Teen Team?” Rex spoke this time, surprise clear in his voice.

“I don’t really keep up with…well anything I guess.” You shrugged, you hadn’t really cared to keep posted until the Guardians were massacred.

“They were the best team ever!” Rex exclaimed loudly.

“No, they weren’t.” Eve rolled her eyes. “We weren’t even the number one teenager-centric team.”

“In my eyes we were.” He held his hands to his chest, fingers intertwined, as if reminiscing.

“Who else was on it?” You asked, gazing jumping between the two of them.

“It was me, Rex, Kate, and Robot.” Eve answered.

“Just the four of you?”

“Hey, that’s all we needed!”

You sat for a few more minutes listening to them reminisce. After one particular story about Rex staying at her house for a year straight you realized where you had recognized her. She had been in one of the pictures on his wall in his room. You weren’t sure exactly what their history was but, you were glad he was able to keep one friend off the team. It still made you feel oddly upset, but you were determined to be mature. There was genuinely no reason for you to feel like this anyway. It was stupid.

“Well, this has been lovely, truly, but I should really-”

“You should stay.” You glanced to the side to see Rex staring at you. His brow was creased slightly, his eyes slightly unsure. You wished he wouldn’t look at you like that.

“I’m sorry-” You were interrupted by a doctor peeking into the room.

“She’s awake.” Is all he said before passing on by.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. But it was so nice learning more about you, Eve.” You stood up.

“Likewise.” She smiled back.

You turned to Rex, who was still staring at you. As you made eye contact his jaw clenched. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here.”

You wanted to hug her, but you didn’t. Instead, you walked in and stood awkwardly by the curtain as a doctor and nurse duo filled her in on what had happened. She glanced over at you a few times, but in all mostly paid attention to the two who were talking. While you waited, your mind drifted back to Rex, replaying the feel of his hand against yours. Entirely normal and definitely not indicative of anything else.

“We’ll be in first thing tomorrow morning to run some tests, m’kay?” The doctor said to Rae, which she nodded back politely to. “She’s been in here almost every day to share lunch with you. Hell of a friend.” The doctor pointed at you. You could curl up and die.

Rae’s attention focused on you as the two of them left. “Every day, huh?”

“I think they overdramatized it a day or two.” You gave her a smile.

“Did you at least save me some chips?”

“I tried, but you never seemed to want to take them from my hand.”

Rae gave a soft chuckle, wincing after the exertion.

“Can I help?” You plopped down in the recliner, wheeling it over to the bed.

Rae laughed again, holding her hands out to stop you as you eagerly moved forward. “Hold on, let me catch my breath.”

“Sorry.” You responded quickly.

“Don’t be.” She laid back, closing her eyes for a short period before opening them again. “I appreciate the offer, but I must decline.”

You open your mouth to argue. You wanted to help her, needed to.

“It has nothing to do with you.” She says before you can interject. “I don’t want to be healed yet.”

“What? Why?” You tried not to sound like you thought she was crazy.

“I need to remember this. Remember all I have had to go through as a hero, as a Guardian. Whatever.”

You nodded even though you didn’t really understand.

“It’s exhausting, isn’t it? You win one battle, but eventually, you will lose the next. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But it’ll happen. There’s no other way for this all to end.”

You blinked a few times. “It is exhausting. But doesn’t it help to know you’re making a difference?”

“What difference?” Rae’s voice still came out soft even though her words carried bite. “I have been in this business a long time and I don’t think I have ever seen it.”

“The Headquarters is too high up. Too far.” You start, leaning forward on your knees. “I have been in this hospital for months on and off, and more recently I have been here all day every day. I can see the difference in every single patient who tells me about how a superhero saved them. It can feel like every day is exactly the same, but to them-” You gesture to the rest of the hospital. “It means everything.”

Rae nods, but she still looks exhausted.

“You don’t have to continue, Rae. You can quit.”

“Like you did?” She gives you a cheeky grin, obviously having been waiting to say something to this point.

“Well…” You sucked on your teeth trying to bide your time. “Quit is such a strong word, isn’t it?”

“I knew it!” She said triumphantly. “I told Rex that you’d be back.”

“Ugh, I’m so glad you both were so worried.” You rubbed your face tiredly.

“I wasn’t worried, I knew you’d be back. You wouldn’t leave me.” Her eyes shined. “Misses-spends-every-lunch-in-my-room-while-I’m-in-a-comma.”

“Is that going to become a whole thing now?”

“Only until I forget.” She pokes you. “How is Rex doing by the way?”

“Rex?” You pretended to have to think about it. “Yeah, I think I heard he’s doing okay.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“He’s good. I swear.” You laugh. “He seems to be trying to turn a new leaf.”

“Well, that’s good.” She smirked before opening her mouth, “Must have found someone worth being better for.”

“Oh my god, Rae are you still on about this?”

“He asked me for your number and address so he could apologize, there’s no way that means nothing!”

“It could mean nothing!” You respond with a layer of exasperation.

“Sure.” She lengthens the word as long as she can in a tease. You chuckle in response, covering your face with both hands.

“You could always stay with me you know.” You say it after she has gotten the teasing out of her system. “If you need a break from the Guardian’s. I have a spare room.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She reaches out, placing a hand on yours. “Thank you.”

You stood in a breakroom area at the hospital, taking a quick break between patients. A soft click told you that someone had entered the room with you. One glance back revealed that it was Rex, freshly healed up, flexing his new hand in front of his face. He looked good, healthy. He wasn’t wearing the hospital garbs anymore, they had been replaced by street clothes. You didn’t pay much attention to them though; your eyes were drawn immediately to Rex himself. He had his hair tied up again in the trademark look you had become accustomed to.

“Wow, you healed quickly.” You titled your head at him, hoping your voice reflected that you were happy for him, rather than sounding condescending.

“I told you, accelerated healing.” He rolled his shoulders, taking a few steps forward.

“Even still.” You closed the distance, looking him over. Accelerated healing sure, but accelerated hair growth? That really did shock you. “Well, you look good.” It slipped out, instantly making you press your eyes closed. Embarrassment hot against your face.

“Do I?” He cocked his head to the side with a smug smile.

“Don’t push it, hotshot.” Hotshot? God, when did you get so overconfident?

He stepped closer, you had to crane your neck slightly to continue looking at his face. He was standing awfully close, but you didn’t back away. Why did you never back away?

“Why do you keep visiting me? Hm?” His voice comes out in a hushed tone, ghosting over you.

“It’s good for comradery, in the team.” You stammer out, your eyes drifting down to his lips as he speaks.

“Bullshit. Maybe that first visit was just for that, but you kept coming back. You could have just come the once. But you didn’t.”

You swallowed dryly, he was leaning in slightly at this, his sage eyes searching over your face. “I needed to make sure I didn’t make a mistake. I- I mended your bullet wound.” You admitted it quietly as if you were scared for him to know. “I wanted to be sure I didn’t actually cause lasting damage.”

He sighed and stepped away from you, running a hand through his hair up to the elastic before dropping his hand to his side. “I wouldn’t have even been here if you had just come with me.”

Silence enveloped both of you. You knew that he was right, but you also hadn’t expected him to voice your exact thoughts after whatever was just happening. “I…I know.” You whispered.

“But you can make up for it, can’t you?” You looked up, feeling mildly confused, just in time to see him cross the distance he had walked away back to you. “Make it up to me.” In what felt like a millisecond his mouth was on yours. His hand travels up the back of your neck into your hair. He felt greedy, his hand closing tightly over as large of a cluster as he could grasp. He deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping over your lips to gain entry-

You snapped your eyes open, quickly adjusting to the dark. Soft rays from the streetlights far below sifted in over your curtains leaving a soft yellow glow on your ceiling. Your breath was coming out in swift heaves. It felt uncomfortably hot in your room, so you threw off your duvet, still panting in an attempt to regain your lost breath. You could still feel his hands in your hair.

Shit.

Author's Note: Guys be honest am I moving too fast? Like I know were almost at 70k words but it’s finally starting to be less one sided and I feel like I’m waterboarding you guys. Also hopefully you guys have seen or heard of groundhog day or I just mischaracterized you so bad 💔

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 @0ut0fsweets @sugaramped request to be tagged for new parts!

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spidernuggets · 26 days ago

Note

i need to prep ur brain for when i slide into ur inbox w my milf!reader fanfic... instead of mark and a hot mom, let me raise u REX and a hot mom.

walk w/ me: rex is a DOG, and so is mark, but rex is so proud of that fact that he practically wears it on his sleeve like a badge of honor. he does not bother hiding the fact that he wants you. semantics, shemantics— so what if he's too young for you? or that you're recently divorced? or, better yet, you’re recently separated— it's just that the divorce hasn't gone through yet. all that means is that you're basically single, and age is just a number, so why are you getting caught up on the details?? let the handsome and charming superhero who’s started to patrol your neighborhood a little more frequently help you with your groceries, and fix the leak under your sink, and, i don't know, blow ur back out while the kids are at school until you're shaking like a leaf w/ your eyes rolled back and his cum leaking out of you? 🫣

wow, i am so excited to write this.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀18+ content below / MDNI

There’s just something so charming about his ham-fistedness, I think. His forwardness might’ve seemed try-hardy in any other instance, but the truth is you’re lonely :( you and your husband were separated long before you made him sign the papers, and when you served them he hardly batted an eye. Twenty years of marriage and you’ve only got two kids (one 8, the other 16) and sexual frustration to show for it. You don’t often burden others with your own issues but you wear it on your sleeve—dressed in mourning colors while mowing the lawn, expression forlorn, almost longing.

Rex bumbles in without respect to any of those things. He’s blunt, brash, trying to flirt with you as he saves you from a crush on the highway that him and his damn guardians caused. Takes one look at your big wet eyes and then decides to make it his personal mission to see you to your destination—make sure you’re safe. It’s just an excuse to carry you, feel the tension of the muscle beneath your skin and the soft backs of your knees, staring at your tits as they rise and fall with each breath.

You notice, but don’t do anything to stop him. It’s been so long since you’ve felt appreciated. Wanted.

So yes, you invite him over for dinner under the guise of paying kindnesses forward. It's fun watching your kids rave as you introduce them to an honest to god superhero. They’re more excited about him than you are, asking him question after question about the job; any near-death experiences? Daring rescues and brave escapes? They want to hear it all over seconds & dessert. If you didn’t excuse your new friend from the table, the rabble would’ve gone on all night, but Rex doesn’t mind, he’s great with kids (if it means it’ll get him laid) and impresses them easily with flashy stories and backyard demonstrations of his explosive tendencies.

You’re a little harder of a nut to crack, but his persistence adds to his charm. He’s oddly punctual, always patrolling around the same time every afternoon and evening to catch you on your way to or from work, or the store. He heaves your things along no problem and it’s already unmistakably clear what Rex is vying for, so to speak. His eyes tell you a lot. His mask is a crutch more than cover because the boy has wandering eyes; when they’re capped by yellow lenses he can stare all he like, as if you can’t feel him.

But he isn’t the type to leave you in suspense about what he’s thinking, he’ll tell it to you and the witnesses, he’s that shameless.

“Those look heavy,” he says, gesturing to what you think are the bags in your hand, “Let me hold em for you.”

The thanks Rex you were intending slips away as he cups firmly under your breasts, peering at you to gauge how close you are to smacking the shit out of him, but you are stunned to silence for a moment. Then you laugh, “You’re a pervert, Rex. Did your mother never teach you manners? The right way to treat a woman?”

He gets oddly quiet at that. Then he says, “Clearly not, ‘swhy don’t you teach me then, huh? What’s a good boy look like to you?”

I think the dynamic between divorcee MILF and Rex would be abhorrently cute, back breaking aside. I think Rex has more finesse than Mark because he has more experience with women and knows how to give you what you need while also being quite selfish incredibly nonchalantly. He's very open about liking you, it's breathing, to him. He is unapologetically monopolizing you and your time so much so he very rapidly becomes a steady addition to your life- your kids know about him, the neighbors definitely know about him, and your ex???

He facetimes you to talk about the kids coming over for the weekend and Rex picks up the phone. Hair mussed, eyes narrowed to fine points, he's focused on something. Faint sounds of leather creasing in the background.

R: "She's busy."

X: "Who the fuck is this??? Busy? Busy doing what?"

Rex doesn't say anything, just flips the camera.

He's got you over the couch, zooming in on where he's got you split open, fat cock stuffed in pretty pussy; you got this man soaked to the bone!

You're a little too cock drunk to notice quickly, moving back to meet Rex's hips with a vigor yet to be matched by your mind.

R: "I think she's good where she's at, man. Let's put a raincheck on that."

—click!

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spidernuggets · 26 days ago

Note

i need to prep ur brain for when i slide into ur inbox w my milf!reader fanfic... instead of mark and a hot mom, let me raise u REX and a hot mom.

wow, i am so excited to write this.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀18+ content below / MDNI

You notice, but don’t do anything to stop him. It’s been so long since you’ve felt appreciated. Wanted.

But he isn’t the type to leave you in suspense about what he’s thinking, he’ll tell it to you and the witnesses, he’s that shameless.

“Those look heavy,” he says, gesturing to what you think are the bags in your hand, “Let me hold em for you.”

He gets oddly quiet at that. Then he says, “Clearly not, ‘swhy don’t you teach me then, huh? What’s a good boy look like to you?”

R: "She's busy."

X: "Who the fuck is this??? Busy? Busy doing what?"

Rex doesn't say anything, just flips the camera.

He's got you over the couch, zooming in on where he's got you split open, fat cock stuffed in pretty pussy; you got this man soaked to the bone!

You're a little too cock drunk to notice quickly, moving back to meet Rex's hips with a vigor yet to be matched by your mind.

R: "I think she's good where she's at, man. Let's put a raincheck on that."

—click!

283 notes · View notes

spidernuggets · 28 days ago

Text

i hope the note means we get to give rex a big fat smooch

Crawling Back to You

Chapter fourteen

Synopsis: Your mind is running faster than you can control. To avoid spiraling you are determined to do anything but sit around at your apartment.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Chapter: 14/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: Extremely Mild Depictions of Injuries

Note: Two-ish more chapters until one I have been waiting to write for months 😛😼

Taking time off had previously seemed to you like an escape. You fantasized about it a few times after difficult fights, being able to lie in your bed in your apartment and do absolutely nothing. Now that you were being ordered to do it, everything about it felt like a chore. The books on your shelves didn’t pique your interest, you had no one to invite over being that Rae was in a coma, and you did not have much reason to drive around town and run errands. God, were you just a loser?

You could slam your head into the wall a few times, see if that did anything for you. After your visit to the museum, you had rushed home, panicking over the implications of the differences in tales between what Cecil told you and the story the worker had relayed to you. A truth you didn’t want to accept. But it wasn’t a truth yet, right? You couldn’t be sure of your potential fault in the security guard’s death, in John’s death. You needed to confront Cecil and ask him what was true, and what wasn’t. You needed…

What did you need? You had slid to the floor against your front door, soft sobs sounding out in your quiet apartment. Between the discrepancies with your first mission, and whatever happened to Rex and Rae, you were beginning to feel like you were being eaten alive. Guilt, shame, regret, all of it washing over you time and time again like ocean waves pulling at embedded driftwood. It hurt to breathe, to think-

And then you woke up. Hours later, lying on the entry rug in front of your door.

It was the early hours of the next day, over twenty-four hours since you had been woken up to assist with the emergency operations. Your solution to all of these new conflicting feelings about the events of the previous day was simply thinking about something else when it started to surface. The lump in your throat reappeared as you looked at the empty carousel picture frame Rae had given you. You needed to do something. Something other than wallowing in this godforsaken apartment.

“What part of take a break wasn’t clear to you?”

“Fuck!” You were working up a sweat, your dominant hand held up, fingers outstretched towards the ReAnimen on the ever-familiar gurney. You had decided you would practice. If the Guardians wanted to raise a fuss about you passing out, having episodes, whatever, you would have to get better. You needed to be better. You needed to be able to go far longer without even getting a headache, or even a twinge. The only way you could accomplish this was practice. Even though working with ReAnimen had proven to be a lot worse at producing results than actual field in experience, you weren’t exactly able to produce some villain out of thin air for you to fight. “Fuck- fuck- fuck!”

You had been trying to make the corpse do anything. Shift, stand up, scratch its ass, ANYTHING. But you were met with nothing, just the sound of your own labored breathing. It didn’t budge, didn’t even tremble. You realized quickly that you couldn’t even feel the blood that resided within it.

“Did you hear me?”

You turned to look at Cecil who had entered moments ago. You knew it wouldn’t take him long to find out where you were and that you were trying to train. But, it had taken surprisingly long. You had run through scenarios in your head. How you would immediately confront him about the security guard, demand an explanation. How he would tell you to go home, and you would refuse, continue working. But now that he was standing here, and after at least an hour of trying to make any kind of connection you were feeling nothing but more fragile. It was stupid. Humiliating even. You had grown so much, completely competent on missions on your own or with others. You could bring people to their knees, literally. And now you couldn’t even get this thing to lift a finger, let alone anything useful.

Cecil’s expression softened slightly before he let out a gentle sigh. “What are you doing, Killdeer?”

You shook your head, running your hands through your hair. “I can’t-” How could you have killed that guard? It wasn’t possible, you couldn’t even get this damn ReAnimen to move. It wasn’t possible. “There’s still blood in there, right? No one removed it because I wasn’t here?”

“There is.” He affirms after a pause, and then he says your name, probably in hopes of getting you to focus on his earlier question. “Why are you here?”

“I have to be better.” You said quickly, extending your hand out to it again, drawing your eyebrows together in concentration.

“Quit it kid, you’re just gonna hurt yourself.” You ignored him, still tensing your entire hand as your eyes watched for any sign of movement. Still nothing. You felt like a little kid trying to test if you secretly had powers after watching a movie. Which wasn’t helping with the humiliation problem.

With a groan you lowered your hand, panting out a few breaths from the strain. “God fucking dammit.” You muttered.

There was a loaded silence as you looked down at your hands, delayed panic starting to settle in. You couldn’t make it move. What did this mean? Were you done? Destined to be powerless for the rest of your life after getting a taste? Could you just be normal again? Maybe you would work some kind of office job, watching as a building across the street gets demolished in a nearby tussle between some new super-villain, attempting to take over the world, and some well-meaning superhero. You would be a powerless bystander.

“You should go to the hospital.” Cecil’s voice cut through the silence.

“Do you think they’ll fix this?” Your voice had more snark to it than you meant it to. Luckily Cecil seemed to be more sympathetic than you thought he would be. In fact, he almost looked… content?

“Stop being difficult. I think it would be good for you to practice some healing rather than this, don’t you?” You glanced at the unmoving form on the gurney and then back to Cecil. “If you can lengthen your stamina in that regard, I’ll consider letting you work on Rex and Rae, help them get back in the field faster.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” You responded quietly.

“It’s not my job to worry about how you feel.” He says matter-of-factly, but after a pause, he sighs again. “Hopefully it will make you feel better, kid.”

The hospital didn’t bustle with panic today. The halls were mostly empty, except for the occasional nurse progressing through their rounds. You could hear the persistent rhythmic beeping from every room you passed. The sound eventually fades into the background as the day goes on. It had been a while since you were on hospital duty. Cecil had taken you off after a patient had screamed at you, throwing everything at you they could find in their vicinity. You had experienced many unpleasant interactions during this part of your training, but that one stuck with you more than the rest. Each time you stood next to the doctor who explained some patient’s options to them, you watched the different reaction spread across their face before they even spoke. In less than five seconds after you were mentioned you could tell if your help was going to be welcome or scorned. You could tell if they thought you were a miracle, or unnatural. A freak. Which is exactly what the person who had been throwing ChapSticks and various utensils at you had called you.

Today had been better. There were a surprising number of children in the hospital, all of them sporting similar injuries, scrapes, and gashes. A doctor later told you that there had been some sort of incident at a nearby park, a building collapse, or something similar. You had been given such an expansive number of stories for each individual and how they got there that it was hard to keep track.

You now stood in the hall, leaning against the wall after a few hours of work, holding your fingers to your temple. On the happier side, you still had your powers. It must have been a fluke earlier with the ReAnimen, stress clouding your abilities. On the far less happy side, you could feel your brain pulsing within the confines of your skull. In fifteen minutes when the pain subsided you would go back to it, you needed to be better. But as for right now, you could throw up.

“You doing okay?” A familiar voice spoke from right next to you.

“’s fine, thank you, Donald.” You didn’t open your eyes, squeezing them shut to the point you started to see shapes and colors behind your eyelids.

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.” You responded softly. After a few minutes of silence, you started to feel the pain ebb slightly. Your body regenerating. Time to return to work.

“Oh god!” You exclaimed, jerking to the side quickly as you blinked your eyes open to see that Donald was still standing there. “Have you been there this whole time?”

“Yes.” He said with a subtle frown.

You stood for a moment eyeing him. Was that all he was going to say? “Are you okay, Donald?” You finally asked.

He hesitated for a brief second, his brows creasing. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just stood here watching me for ages…in silence.” You raised a brow at him. “You worried I’m gonna have an episode, or are you needing to talk about something?”

“Can’t I stand with my friend?”

“Are we, Donald?” You laughed in a soft exhale. “Friends that is. Is that what this is?” You gesture between the two of you. On one hand, you were being honest, maybe a little less subtle about it than usual. You and Donald were on good terms, but friends? Maybe a week ago you would have quickly agreed. Smiled to yourself later that someone confirmed they thought well of you. Now you have bigger problems. Cecil had been the one to tell you that the security guard had been shot by one of the thieves. If this was not true and Cecil had lied, Donald had not told you otherwise. Hell of a friend.

“You’re upset.”

You sigh, straightening your back out in a stretch that has you immediately slouching forward again as it sends a cramp through your spine-adjacent muscles. “I’m tired is all, Donald. It’s good to see you.”

Donald is silent, still frowning. For once you wished he didn’t have those damn glasses. You couldn’t even tell if he was still looking at you. “If you have something to say or ask, just say it.”

“Donald, lets not-”

“You are obviously stewing on something. Tell me.”

You grimace, cursing yourself for your readability. You have to start being more subtle. “Donald-” You’re about to deny it, tell him he’s reading too far into it, you’ve just had a bad few days- bad week- bad life? But his head tilts slightly and you purse your lips closed, biting the inside of your lip. “What happened in the museum? My first mission, Donald. The one where the security guard died-”

“I know which one.” He interjected; his expression didn’t change at all from what you could tell. He just stood there staring at you for a moment. His pointer finger tapped lightly against his thigh.

Just as you were about to continue, he looked off to the left of him, into an open room next to you. It was vacant, you had chosen to stand here specifically because of that. If your headache had worsened, you had planned on lying down. “Follow me.” He said softly, stepping into the room and closing the door after you trailed in behind him. “The security guard-”

“John Spencer.” You blurted. You weren’t sure why. Even you referred to him as the security guard in your head. But at this moment you felt the need to humanize him. Carry the full weight of what his death meant.

“Mr. Spencer,” Donald continued, “Shot you.”

“I know, Donald-” You started with a groan, before he interrupted you, holding one of his hands up.

“That’s it, you know now and you knew then that he shot you.” You cocked your head almost imperceptibly.

“Okay?”

“Think back. You sat on the ground, having been shot for the first time in your life-”

“Hopefully the last.”

“You sat down, with him still pointing the gun at you. You didn’t knock him out like the others or disarm him in any way. And then you started to lose consciousness.”

“Why would I knock out a random civilian?” You questioned.

“To you, how you are now, it makes sense. He shot you. You can heal it back up with relative ease. To your subconscious, you just got shot, and didn’t do anything about it.”

You nodded, trying to follow what he was saying.

“We’ve been monitoring your brain activity during your episodes for a while now. Right before an occurrence there is a lull in your neurons. A moment, and you pass out to recuperate, you have a massive spike in cognitive functioning. Usually, this gets put back into the regeneration process, giving you a little more juice to stay awake longer.” He explained, gesturing with his hands. “It seems, or our hypothesis is, that you have a built-in defense mechanism. If your subconscious believes you are in danger it will… well it will save you.”

“Save me…” You trailed off, folding your arms over your chest. “Save me as in, kill whoever was threatening me.” It wasn’t a question. You had put it together now. It was all related to your subconscious, that was why you kept dreaming about John’s death. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was a memory.

The blood speckling the wall up past the painting. His mouth hanging open as blood begins to shower from his throat. How you could feel that his legs were completely lacking in blood, not just low, squeezed dry. It had all happened.

“None of our agents were teleported in because once it started, we weren’t sure how long you could keep it up. How many bodies you could drain before you fully passed out. We had to wait until you collapsed, and by then, he was dead.”

You blinked a few times, your eyes strung slightly as you furrowed your brow somehow even harder. “Why…Why didn’t Cecil tell me the truth? Why didn’t you?” You turned your gaze to him, trying not to let the hurt reflect off your tone.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Donald looked sympathetic. “And we did not know enough about it. We needed to conduct more research.”

“You don’t get to decide what information I am allowed to have when it relates to me. I killed someone! I can’t just continue on like nothing happened! I am meant to protect people for- Jesus!” You ran both hands through your hair, pacing back and forth.

“Would it have helped?”

You slowed to a stop, slowly returning your attention back onto him. “What?” A soft crack taking over your tone.

“Would it have helped for you to know that you killed him? Would you have fought the same way on missions?”

“I- I don’t know Donald, maybe I would have quit.” You jumble out your words with an almost exasperated sigh.

“How many lives would have been lost if you had quit?”

“There’s no way to know for sure any of them would have been lost, Donald-”

“More than one. We know that. Rex and Rae, you saved their lives yesterday.”

“If I hadn’t quit the team, they might have avoided that completely!”

“All I am hearing is that you shouldn’t quit.”

“Goddamn it, Donald!” You ran a hand over your face. “It’s not the same. I could have…” You paused, biting the inside of your lip against the urge to start tearing up. “I could have saved them, Donald.” The conversation easily shifts to your guilt over Rex and Rae.

“You did save them.” He reaffirms gently.

“I didn’t save them from any of the pain. Rex was shot in the fucking head for Christ’s sake. Rae looked like she’d been crushed by a semi. And I was sleeping soundly in bed.”

Donald pauses, his gaze seems sympathetic but you can’t quite tell because of the glasses. Not that you want his sympathy. You want someone to hold you accountable, tell you how much of a shit bag you are. “The truth is,” He says your name, “You have done a lot of good, and you could beat yourself up over what has gone poorly. Or you can get up and do better.”

You don’t respond, chewing at the inside of your cheek. ‘what has gone poorly’, as if it is out of your control.

“I know firsthand the frustration of being lied to by the GDA. By the director.” The ridge of his lips rises slightly in what almost seems like a snarl. “We should have told you sooner. But sometimes this is just part of the job.” Even as he says it you can tell he does not necessarily agree with it. “Director Stedmen keeps a lot of secrets, he has a burden bigger than most. Especially after the incident in Chicago with Omniman.”

You sigh, but you feel your face soften slightly. “Does Cecil know you’re telling me this?”

“If he doesn’t, I am sure he will soon.”

You both stand there for a few moments, the silence enveloping you. You weren’t sure how to feel. Part of you had thought that knowing definitively would fix something, anything, everything. But now you knew, Donald had confirmed one of your worst fears, and you…didn’t feel any different. You could still hear the faint beeping of different machines in other rooms, and the shuffling of footsteps as they passed the closed door behind you.

“The world keeps spinning, huh?” You said with a tired smile, still trying to fully process everything.

“The world keeps spinning.” Donald repeated, his expression melancholy.

You and Donald decided to get lunch together at the hospital cafeteria. It was exactly what you expected, bland and forgettable. But it was nice to be able to sit and discuss with Donald. You weren’t sure if you could really be classified as friends. But you did truly believe he wanted what was best for you. He didn’t tell you what his issues with the GDA were, but you figured that it was for the best as well. After you had both finished and he eventually got called back in for one reason or another, you went back to it. People rejected you or accepted you. Over and over.

The amount of work you were doing would have felt more strenuous if you didn’t have so much to think about. The doctor you were shadowing around after shift change at one point snapped her fingers in front of your face because you had been zoned out to the point you had not heard her repeating your name.

“Do you need a break?” She asked, tilting her head at you, as she stood with her hands on the keyboard of the room’s computer. She had been updating the notes for a patient you had just mended back together.

“No!” You said quickly, startling the patient who was rubbing their arm, sitting on the bed. “Sorry, I mean, no.”

“How long have you been working for?”

“Well like a few months I suppose but I’ve done some volunteer-”

“Today.” She interrupted.

“Oh,” You thought for a second. “What time is it?”

“Why don’t you make this easy for me and just tell me what time you started.”

A little rude. You looked over at the patient before turning your attention back. “Six or so.”

“Go home. Come back tomorrow.”

“I’m not tired, I can keep going-” You stuttered, quickly faced with the reality of what it meant to go back home. The silence that awaited you.

“I will have you removed from the premises if I need to. Get off the clock, rookie.”

As far as you knew you were never on the clock to begin with. ‘Rookie’ my ass. But you didn’t argue back. Your temperament was too unpredictable recently, you didn’t want to say something you would regret. If you planned on continuing this work for the next few days, or weeks, or whatever Cecil wanted, it would be very awkward if you started making enemies.

You looked back at the patient and gave them a reassuring smile as they looked back and forth between you and the doctor. God this was a bit demeaning.

You didn’t want to go home yet. As you left the room your head swiveled left and right to take in the long, sterile hall. It was getting late, and the cafeteria was more than likely closed now, maybe you would just go to your old room.

Your room. Every now and again you recognized how odd your whole situation was. Granted you had not stayed there much recently…minus a short three-day stint, but it was still yours. You watched your shoes travel over the ground as you walked, not needing to look where you were going as the routine started to sink back in. You probably should have looked up though, people were still walking through the halls even if you weren’t looking for them. Which led to your shoulder slamming into someone who was walking past you.

“Shit!- I’m so sorry-” You started, rubbing your shoulder as you turned, whoever it was felt like walking into a brick wall.

“Oh no, I’m- wait don’t I know you?”

You straightened your posture out some as you felt the recognition dawn on you. “Yes, actually. Not formally though.” Shit.

“You were with Cecil when he came to my college,” Mark stated cautiously like the memory was unpleasant for him. It wouldn’t be surprising, honestly, Cecil pushed him pretty hard.

You nodded, feeling your brows draw together slightly at the already awkward tension falling over whatever this interaction was. “Yeah…” You stood there for a moment, before glancing around. You weren’t sure what or who you were looking for. Maybe anything to save you from this interaction. “I’m Killdeer, by the way.” You awkwardly told him your real name as well on top of that, explaining that you were a new Guardian member. Well, sort of a Guardian member.

“Oh. That’s you?” Mark eyebrows lifted in faint recognition.

“What’s me?” You were almost afraid to ask, crossing your arms loosely.

“Oh nothing, I just heard Rex talk about you.”

“What?” You were five seconds away from forming a permanent wrinkle between your eyebrows from the confused look you were giving him. “When?”

“Like, two minutes ago.”

“He’s awake?” Your arms dropped immediately. How long had he been awake? What had he been saying to Mark about you? And, even more importantly, with how much he hated you before all of this, how much did he hate you now? The thought of it almost made you wince. How high were the chances that you walked into whatever room he was in, and he immediately tried to explode you? Explode you? Detonate you? What even was the right word for this? Whatever, he’d do something to you around the lines of attempting to stop you from…continuing…anything.

Ever again.

Probably.

“Yeah, for a little while-”

“Which room?” You blurted.

“Uh?” Mark gave you a weird look, but a touch of a smile ghosted over his lips as he told you the room number.

“Thank you.” You jerked your head in a nod at him and almost immediately started heading that way, before doubling back to Mark. “It was nice to kind of formally meet you, you’re a big inspiration.” Good god. You were going to stay up at night thinking about this for a long time.

“It’s nice to meet you too?” He laughed, shaking your hand that was outstretched towards him.

The touch sent something through you. It wasn’t a jolt or some kind of electric current. It felt like a click. This was your first time making direct contact with him. The closest you had been to his life source. You could feel it. How it pumped in his veins, how a cluster of cells traveled to work on a bruise that must be hidden somewhere under his shirt.

This was a new development, an excellent development.

After the awful few days you were having, you could feel your mood lift slightly at the prospect of being able to tell Cecil something good. You had cracked Viltrumite DNA. You could feel it, but you couldn’t test it. You had no proof. For the first time in the months you had been in training, you wanted to go back to that cold training room. Test your abilities against that Viltrumite blood bag. You could feel even now that you would have complete control.

“Thank you!” You said again, hoping he wouldn’t be even further weirded out by your instant demeanor change, and the way you practically skipped away from him.

Crap, what number did he say again? Were you even in the correct building? After passing by a desk with nurses stationed at it three times, they finally waved you down and asked if you needed assistance. After the embarrassing ordeal of having to tell them you were “looking for Rex Splode” and them asking what his last name was, and you saying “…Splode?” you finally were able to get the correct number.

You watched as the numbers on the corresponding doors slowly ascended as you passed through the hall. You were only a few away now, and your pace was slowing.

Now that you were starting to process the excitement of your new development, and the shock of Rex already being awake, you were starting to realize how little you thought this through. What were you going to say? You should have made a plan, or a script, or something! You knew eventually he would wake up. You should have brought alcohol again, that worked pretty well last time.

And then you were at his door. It was cracked slightly open. A voice spoke from inside, feminine; one that was unfamiliar to you. You should go; he obviously has a visitor. Or maybe it was just a nurse? If someone else was there, was it less likely he would try to kill you? He wouldn’t actually kill you, right? You were just overthinking it.

Yeah…

You pushed the door open apprehensively, practically holding your breath. The curtain is pulled closed, and before you think better of it you trail your hand over the material, pulling it slightly ajar.

“Oh, hello.” An unfamiliar voice sounded from in front of you. A woman with bright ginger hair sat at the foot of the bed, blocking your view of the person who resided in it. You recognized her but you couldn’t quite place it.

“Hi, sorry, is this a bad time?” You’re already stepping back to exit the room, immediately taking the given opportunity to run. To be anywhere else.

“No, please!” She stands up, “I was just about to leave.” As she stands you make direct eye contact with the man she had been talking to in the bed. He’s tilting his head to the side, shifting himself so that he can see around her. You swallow dryly as you take him in, it feels as though your throat sticks closed at the sight of him.

He had on what almost looked like a metal helmet, light azure highlights shining off of it on the sides and front. It must be there to assist in his healing process, you doubt that it’s a new fashion statement. His right eye was slightly bloodied beneath the ocular lens. The section of his head the helmet did not cover revealed a choppy buzzcut they must have done after your assistance was no longer needed. Most surprising of all, he was smiling at you, not just smiling but practically beaming.

“Sorry.” You utter softly to the woman, giving her an apologetic smile.

“Really, don’t worry about it. I can only take him in small doses, you’re saving me.”

“Seriously? I almost died!” Rex whined, but his eyes quickly returned to you.

The woman gave you a polite nod before waving at Rex and exiting the room. Leaving you to the exact situation you were hoping to avoid by a guest being present.

You were now standing alone in Rex’s room. He maintained the most ridiculous grin you had ever seen, it almost unnerved you. Maybe it only felt ridiculous because you had hardly seen him smile before. Not in any genuine way.

“She seemed nice.” You said, not stepping any closer.

“Eve?” He responded, “Yeah, she is.”

Another beat of silence.

“You look like shit.” You could walk off a cliff. That’s the best you could come up with? Real conversation starter.

“You should see what the other guy looked like.” He quipped, his smile still not faltering.

Your eyes traveled down over him for a moment. His left arm which had been a bloody stump the last time you saw it was now sheathed in a metal covering. If he was telling the truth about looking better than whoever he had gone up against did, you almost couldn’t imagine the amount of damage done.

You opened your mouth again, to say- well really anything. Then your eyes landed on what looked like magazines being propped up by the metal appendage. “What’s that?”

“These?” He held one up, and after you nodded, he held the same one out for you. “Fucking brilliant is what they are!”

You stepped forward to take it out of his hand. “Ten biggest bedroom makeovers for your new dream home?” You read off the headline on the cover aloud. “A home improvement magazine?”

“Not just one.” He corrects, fanning out the other ones for you to look at.

Shit. You scrambled his brain when healing it. You knew that it was such a tender organ, and you botched it. Shit. You were never going to be able to heal anyone ever again. “Oh…That’s really…nice.” Should you tell someone? Get a doctor?

He looks up at you, his eyes squinting slightly. He pauses and you almost wonder if whatever he was thinking of fluttered out of his grasp. God, is that because of you too? You weren’t sure this kind of thing could even be fixed. Then he spoke. “I didn’t think you’d come.” It’s soft, hesitant.

“Do you want me to go?” You were already holding his magazine back out to him again, preparing to go. The last thing you wanted to do was agitate him; he’d already been through enough on your account.

“What?” His brows drew together slightly, and he made no move to take the booklet back.

“I’m sure you’re tired-”

“You should sit.” He said beckoning to the end of his bed where Eve had been sitting.

You hesitated. “How are you feeling, Rex?”

“Pretty good, considering I’m missing a hand, and have like fifty billion other things wrong with me.” He smiled. “Sit.” He gestured again, it wasn’t a command, but an invitation.

After a moment you decided to take him up on the offer. “You sure you’re feeling, okay? You’re being very… agreeable.” You squinted your eyes at him, if you kept saying stuff like that you were sure he’d snap out of it pretty quickly.

He seemingly ignored your question, opening one of the magazines. “See this?” He turned it towards you. “I think this would go really well in your entryway, right?”

Your eyes traveled over his face as he held it out to you. His expression was soft, he looked almost relaxed. After you didn’t say anything for a moment his eyes shifted from the page of the magazine up to you, which caused you to instantly look down. An unfamiliar feeling falling upon you. You chalked it up to the nauseua you had been feeling off and on all day.

“Rex, that’s like five hundred bucks.” You raise a brow at him.

“You’re a fucking superhero, you don’t think you can afford it?”

Rex had practically gone through the whole magazine with you, telling you what he thought was ugly, and what he thought worked well together. As well as assigning certain pieces of furniture to you personally. Saying “this looks like something you’d like.” And sometimes it was, other times it was the ugliest thing you’d ever seen in your life. He snickered each time before he pointed the ugly ones out, which made you wonder how mushy his brain truly was. That seemed very in character for him to you.

But overall, you didn’t discuss anything substantial. You didn’t ask him what happened to him and Rae, you didn’t mention his visit to your apartment, and you didn’t apologize. You figured you could do it all with time, as of right now he was alive. You’d have time to apologize later, but a secret part of you almost hoped he didn’t remember the interaction. Or any of your interactions, from how nice he was being to you.

When you got up to leave, he had frowned, sitting back in what felt a lot like disappointment.

“Will you come back tomorrow? Not that I’m desperate for company or anything, fuck, everyone is crowding to see me.” You looked around the empty room for a moment before returning your attention to him. “You just seem like you could pick out some good home magazines. That’s all.”

“Sure, Rex.” You had said, cocking an eyebrow up at him.

You pulled your phone out as you walked away, dialing Cecil.

Hello?

“Has anyone run any kind of brain scans on Rex yet?” You asked quickly, leaning against the wall a few rooms away.

Yes, why are you calling me this late to ask that?

“Sorry, I just visited him and he was acting strange. I’m worried I… healed something wrong. I mean you know how delicate the brain is-” You started speaking quickly, feeling the mild panic set in again that you had ignored during your entire visit.

Killdeer, his EEG results came back all clear. He’s completely fine. Go to bed.

“Oh…really? Because he seemed a little-” You heard a click and pulled your phone away from your ear. “-odd.” He hung up. Well, at least Cecil isn’t worried about it.

You looked up, the halls were more empty than usual. A quick glance at your phone told you that it was much later than you had thought it was. A steady rhythmic beeping brought you out of your daze, a dim light illuminated out of a dark room in front of you. After glancing up and down the hall you move towards it, exhaustion overshadowed by your curiosity.

A long tubelike structure with a glass cover glowed hazily in the center of the room. Cyan light showered over the walls and floor, licking away at the shadows. An unfamiliar-looking person rested inside, a blanket over her up to her midsection. Her hair spread around her head, sepia-colored locks almost mimicking a halo. An oxygen mask plastered over her mouth, her chest slowly rising and falling.

Looking around for a chair, your eyes locked on the recliner with wheels that resided in every room. Stepping forward, you pulled it up next to the contraption. Sitting down you ran your gaze over her again, her arms were both in bandages and her face was swollen almost beyond recognition.

“Hi, Rae.” You whisper, sitting down in front of the glass incubator, pushing your back against the seat. You rap your fingers against the armrest of the chair, your eyes slowly drooping more and more until you completely pass out.

Author's Note: Lowkey next chapter might have a bit of fluff don't tell anyone tho hehe

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 request to be tagged for new parts!

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spidernuggets · 1 month ago

Text

Crawling Back to You

Chapter thirteen

Synopsis: Cecil brings you into the hospital for emergency operations. He doesn't tell you who the patients are.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Chapter: 13/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: Extreme Depictions of Blood, Gore, Medical Operations, Angst Heavy

Note: Please don't come at me if anything is incorrect, I dropped out of nursing school 🥀

Your phone rang once, then twice, then- You opened your eyes with a groan, impulsively going to mute whatever alarm it was. You pressed the power button on the side with the hopes of snoozing it. Just for two seconds of silence before it started to go off again. Was it louder this time?

Your eyes stung dully as you opened them, trying to force them to focus. It felt like you had not slept for more than an hour. The temptations of REM sleep that you had just been consumed in tugging your eyelids down. Just moving your arms felt like trying to push a train with just your raw strength. Something you couldn’t do, but you definitely stayed up at night imagining being able to do. Something Invincible could probably do. No, he could definitely do it. The ringing persisted, but you found your eyes closing again anyway. Whatever it was could wait five more minutes.

Your eyes remained closed, now picturing the aforementioned superhero pushing a train, then lifting it…then doing a few flips…for whatever reason. Superpowers always had a slight layer of inherent goofiness to you. Seeing someone flying would never not tickle you a little. Even still, you kind of wished it was you. Now, instead of Mark holding a comically sized train, it was you, one hand held over your head as you easily held it over some faceless person.

The tone stopped for a moment, hopefully snoozing on its own. Just as you started to drift off to some form of actual sleep, it started up again. This time, it was so loud you could swear you heard the sound echoing off the wooden floor of your room.

“God.” You muttered quietly, finally wrenching your eyes fully open. A green answer button was the first thing you recognized as your eyes slowly started to bring the screen into focus.

Maybe Cecil didn’t get the memo that you quit yet. Either way, you knew that letting it go much longer would not result in anything rewarding.

As you reached out to grab your phone, you felt the air shift unnaturally in your stagnant room, quickly followed by the sound of a static portal opening. Usually, this familiar sight brought Cecil. This time that was not the case.

You sat up quickly, raising your hand out in front of you in a defensive gesture. After a moment of silence, you finally spoke up to the unmoving figure.

“Hello?” You recognized the uniform, you knew there was no reason to be on edge seeing a GDA agent, but somehow it still put a pit in your stomach. It made sense if you sat and thought about it, but since it had never happened before, you still were not feeling right about it. With whatever this is, and the unfamiliar announcer before your episode in front of Rex, you were beginning to wonder if Cecil was starting to push you off onto other workers of the agency. If that was the case, you couldn’t lie; it definitely stung.

“Director Stedman sent me. You are needed immediately; it is urgent.” The agent seemed to de-tense slightly after you spoke, instantaneously walking up to you and grabbing your arm.

“Hey, what-” You gave them a confused look, pulling your arm back slightly before they slipped a wristband over your hand. You recognized it from when Cecil took you to see Mark, but you were still struggling to follow. Not that this agent’s obscure instructions were helping.

“What-” It was the early hours of the morning, you had seen so when reaching for your phone. What could be this urgent? Was it a world threat? If so, you needed to grab your suit, but from the body language of the person before you, you doubted you were going to have that kind of time. If you were teleported to some important meeting standing in your pajamas, you were never going to be able to show your face to anyone again. You were going to get plastic surgery and change your name or die of shame. Something like that.

Or worse, a small fear entered the circling whirlwind of your thoughts. What if Cecil decided you were dangerous? What if this was a ruse to get you where he wanted you?

When did you become so paranoid, that’s a ridiculous thought-

Your surroundings immediately change around you to an all-too-familiar hall. Cool linoleum floors send chills up your legs. You couldn’t even get shoes first? The agent has their hand on your arm, pulling you with them before you can fully collect your thoughts. The halls are bustling; there is more traffic right now than there ever had been on any of your previous visits.

Doctors, nurses, and more GDA agents. You would think that a catastrophe was on the brink of happening right here in the hospital halls. A morbid curiosity was rising over the tension that was building in your stomach. What is happening?

Finally, the agent stops in front of a room you had not been to before. Well, you had not been to most of the rooms at this point, as one was practically assigned to you. But you had not even been to this part of the hospital. A glowing, blinking red light shone brightly over the door that read “Operating Room”. The OR. You had never needed an operation as your body healed on its own. There was a glass window that looked into the room the door led up to. Just as you started to inch over to get a glimpse, a voice sounded out behind you.

“Sorry to ruin your beauty sleep, kid.” Cecil was walking up behind you. Donald was following shortly behind, the concerned look on his face betraying the cool, calm one on Cecil’s.

“What is going on?”

“There’s been an incident. We need you to stabilize the people in that room to the best of your ability. I have already talked to surgeons; they know who you are and what you can do. Scrub in, then stabilize them.” Cecil was walking past you to the door. “Just stabilize them.” He turns and reiterates to you. “I don’t want you trying to fix this, and I definitely do not want another incident.” He stares at you, his hand closed around the doorknob. You realize he was waiting for you to affirm what he was saying, so you nod vigorously. You were still blinking away sleep, but whatever this was about was obviously serious. “Save them.” He says after the brief pause, his gaze lingering at his hand on the door for a moment before he finally pushed it open.

You had numerous questions. More than numerous. But this is what you had done for months before joining the Guardians. Even if not working specifically in the OR. Cecil thought it was important to practice healing as well as your other abilities. You knew better than to ask frivolous questions right now; those could come later.

Once you were in, the surgeons approached you, filling you in on the situation as you located the sink. You washed your hands first, listening to them as you took the chlorhexidine sponge to further sanitize. Usually, in emergent situations like this, you would just focus on the healing and drown out potential infectors. But if Cecil wanted you to conserve your abilities, this would be best.

“Punctured lungs-”

“Compound fractures-”

“Rhabdomyolysis-”

“Forced amputation-”

“Craniocerebral gunshot injury”

Goddamn, what happened to these people?

You repeated the process with a fresh sponge, letting the water drip down your elbows into the sink. As you turned around, the others in the room helped you get on a surgical gown. One of the professionals around you seemed a little antsy over you not putting on surgical gloves, but you needed direct contact, luckily, they did not stop you, as it seemed like you were going to have to work against the clock.

There are two operating tables. The one closest to you contains a body completely soaked from head to toe in blood. Now that you are looking a little closer, you cannot really tell what you are looking at. The person’s face is practically caved in, their eyelids have puffed up so large the whole face looks almost like an even plane. Your eyes travel down the person’s body to see ivory bone jutting out from their chest, as well as several places on their legs, and one on their arm closest to you. Even so, somehow their chest rose in shallow breaths, soft choking hardly audible over the sounds of the different surgeons and doctors still debriefing you. The patient almost looked to you as if it had been crushed, and maybe it had.

“Cut the shirt open.” You gestured to one of the doctors. There was so much blood that you could not even make out what the original color of the outfit was.

They made quick work, exposing the patient’s chest so you could place your hand directly on the sternum, pinching your eyes closed in concentration. The person you were working on was a woman, which surprised you slightly, as there was practically no other indicator in her face that showed this. The more you looked, the more you realized how horrifically mutilated this person was. It was amazing that she was still breathing.

The lungs you would have to repair and flush free of blood, or this person would die of asphyxia, slowly choking and suffocating on their own blood. Then you would heal her brain, from the amount of trauma you were seeing at her head, as well as the blood pooling in the sides of her face, you figured there was a lot of damage there. You were also a little nervous that she might have extreme ocular damage.

As helpful as the surrounding surgeons had been, you almost wished they would leave the room while you tried to focus. The constant eyes were distracting you, reminding you of your peculiarity. A soft gasp sounded off behind you as the woman’s ribs popped back into place, making a sickening squelch as they shifted to lie back under the skin. In a few moments, the choking sounds stopped, and the swelling around the head lessened.

“Her lungs and any brain injuries are taken care of.” You said as you turned around to get assistance taking off the gown to redo the sanitization process for the next patient. “You will have to set the bones in her legs and arm as well as bring up her blood content, and fast. I stopped the internal bleeding in her torso and head.”

You started washing your hands, reaching for a fresh chlorhexidine sponge-

“We’re losing him!”

You quickened your pace as you heard the incessant beeping startup on the heart monitor attached to the other person.

“Shit-” You rinsed off your hands without a second wash and practically sprinted to the second table as the beeping got quicker. All the purifying in the world wouldn’t matter if the person died. You would just have to focus your energy, purify.

As soon as your eyes finally fully registered the second person, you felt your heart drop into your stomach. This one was nowhere near as coated in blood as the last. Sections of a bright yellow and orange suit. A super suit. An eyesore you recognized immediately. A suit you had seen peeking out under the collar of your visitor’s shirt last night.

“Rex?” Your voice cracked faintly as the shock started to settle in. Craniocerebral gunshot injury.

“Quickly!” One of the people in the room ushered.

You wanted to ask questions now, what was happening? Why was he here? You could feel your confidence wavering, this was too much with no information. Why didn’t Cecil debrief you?

“Now!” Another person’s voice crashed through your thought process, momentarily knocking you back in the game.

You stepped next to the table, taking him in completely. Craniocerebral gunshot injury. You pushed off his goggles and then his headpiece, feeling sick as you could practically look inside his brain from the gaping hole in his right temple. Blood was slowly seeping from it, coating his face and pooling at the dip of his eyelids.

Your fingers immediately pressed to the sides of his head after rolling her shoulders. There was no shortage of injuries for your consciousness to focus on, it was overwhelming. The woman had more substantial injuries, but you hadn’t known her personally. Now you were having to focus on the wounds themselves, and the prospect of how he got them.

You had to mentally restrain yourself from forcing your way through the healing process, getting this over with as quickly as possible. If you had thought Rae’s concussion from the other day was touchy, this could leave him brain dead for life if you lost your train of thought for a second.

The concentration and pain combined force the breath from your lungs. You can feel the occipital and frontal lobes mending, gyri forming on the surface again to the correct shaping. New blood vessels spreading through each section as you progress with the healing process.

The rest passed you in a blur. You had him stabilized, and now the surgeons were crowding in, pushing you away as they began to prepare for bone grafting.

The remainder were working on setting the bones of the other person. You felt sick, your mind finally slowing down enough to think past Rex.

If that was Rex, that meant this was Rae. Or Kate? He said something about there only being the three of them left, right?

Right? Your gaze rested on the mutilated female body.

You blinked a few times, feeling your breathing starting to quicken in pace. You turned quickly to the sink, scrubbing the blood off your hands before exiting back out of the door. Your back slammed against it as it closed. A sharp pain shooting through your tender head at the motion.

You took a few breaths before turning to look through the window.

“I would have warned you, but I thought it might put you in the wrong headspace.” A soft voice said from behind you.

“What happened?” Was all you could manage. Your voice scratched your throat as it forced its way out.

“Mission went sideways,” Cecil said softly. “We did not think the threat was going to be that large. They went up against the Lizard League, a group they’ve taken on before. It’s always been an easy fight.”

You nodded, watching as they placed some kind of metal plating over the outside of Rex’s head. “Easy fight.” You murmured in a hushed tone.

There were a few beats of silence, you couldn’t seem to look away.

Rex asked you to come with him. He didn’t just ask, he begged.

“Please.” His eyes had been drilling down into you. Soft, sincere. Drunk or not, he had meant it. And you had told him no. You had wished him a good night and stepped away.

The corner of your mouth raised slightly in a grimace at the fresh memory. How could you have known? The Guardians did perfectly fine without you for ages. Why couldn’t you have taken twenty-four hours?

A smaller voice sounded off in your head. Why couldn’t you have just gone with him?

An assistant exited the room and spoke in hushed tones to Cecil, who, you had forgotten, was still behind you.

“Thank you.” He said before stepping up to stand beside you. “They are both going to make it.”

“That’s good.” You nodded, your mouth felt weird while talking, dry, numb, maybe even foreign. “Who-” You cleared your throat before running your hands over your nightshirt to straighten it out. “Who is the other person in there?”

“Shrinking Rae.”

You felt something, you couldn’t tell if it was relief she was going to make it, or anguish that it was her. “Where’s Duplikate?”

“She didn’t make it.” You turned your gaze to him. He was staring into the Operation Room as well, his expression unreadable as always.

“Holy shit…”

Another length of silence.

“Cecil…” You started while fighting the bouts of nausea that were coming up in waves now. “Cecil, is this my fault?”

“What do you mean, kid?”

“I quit yesterday.” You thought he would have known; he always seemed to know everything before you did. “I panicked, they all ganged up on me, with footage and-” You could feel the tears starting to well up. This is so stupid. Crying in front of Cecil is mortifying, but you can’t seem to completely stop it. “They had footage of one of my training sessions with the ReAnimen. How did they even get that?” You were talking fast, trying to get through without choking on your words. “I didn’t know what to say, what not to say. The Immortal wanted me to beg to stay. Can you believe that? Beg!” You turned your line of sight away from Cecil to the operation again. “I panicked.” You repeated. “I figured I would rejoin if you wanted me to, but by then we could figure out an explanation.” Cecil was being almost irritatingly quiet. “Rex came to my apartment. He asked me himself to come back with him because the majority of the Guardians had left on this Martian trip, and I said no. I said no!” You ran your hands through your hair, grabbing fistfuls in frustration. “God! I said no!”

“Kid.” You shook your head at him, taking a step away, but he stepped forward and put a hand on your shoulder. He sighed before saying anything. “I know this position has been tough for you. It has been a lot of pressure for someone as new to all of this as you are.” You felt the warm tears finally cascade down your cheek after fighting it so hard. “This is not your fault. I should have better prepared you for their suspicions. I didn’t think they would bring it up so soon.”

“You knew?” You croaked, feeling your brows tense together tightly.

“I did. But you did too, Killdeer.” He said, standing up a bit taller and removing his hand from your shoulder. “It seemed like every single interaction you discussed with me revolving around Rex always contained his suspicions. There was no way he was going to let it go.”

You felt your shoulders drop somehow even lower. You had known. But why had it still blindsided you so badly?

“You had no reason to believe anything like this would happen. You’re a good hero and a good Guardian. I will help you clean up this mess, okay?”

A good Guardian. It sounded bitter, tasted bitter. But what else could you say? “No, I quit for good!” You were afraid Cecil was going to fire you before, and now you were scared to return? Get your shit together.

“Okay.” That was all you could manage to murmur in response.

“Go home, get some sleep. Take a day off. Come back here in a few days. I think it would be good to return to your roots a little, practice some more healing.”

“Will I be able to heal Rex and Rae?” You asked softly, staring down at the ground now.

“No, you’ve done enough for them. I don’t want you to have another episode.”

“Okay.” Who cares if you have another episode? You would live! Rae, you considered to be your friend, maybe your only friend. Even if she was not too happy with you right now, you would do it, you would go through that more than once to get her back to health. And Rex… well Rex-

“There’s a car waiting outside to take you home.”

“Thank you.” You say softly to the driver as you get out. He doesn’t say anything, only nods before driving off again, leaving you standing in front of your apartment building.

It was early morning now. Cecil wanted you to sleep. Your eyes felt heavy, and they stung slightly from your earlier crying. But you had no intentions of going back to bed.

After making the walk of shame in your pajamas up to your room you freshened up. Took a shower, got dressed in actual clothes. Stared at your reflection for a bit. Your mind was oddly quiet. All you could hear was buzzing, florescent lights.

Your hands clasped around your car keys, and suddenly you were behind the wheel, pulling out of your space in the parking lot.

You knew where you were going, a place that had been calling out to you for a few weeks now. A place you needed to see again. Maybe you should go when you have more sleep, or in general, a healthier mind space. But you were driving, and you would be there very soon.

A heavy glass door shuts behind you as you step into the large area, marble stone beneath your feet making your shoes send of clicks as you walk.

Brilliant sculptures, detailed in what must have been hours upon hours of work. You took your time looking at them individually, fighting the urge to run your hand over the smooth stone. There was hardly anyone else there, you made eye contact with a worker and gave them a polite nod before continuing forward. Large banners pointed to the individual sections of the museum, one leading out of the art area and into a historical area, and a smaller one pointing towards the paintings.

It was much easier to navigate in the daylight. The pieces you could now fully make out were beautiful. All the different styles and brush strokes. Finally, you stood in front of a large painting that now sat behind plexiglass. The one that those people had been trying to steal. You didn’t even know their names or where they ended up. Probably in prison for a long time, especially after killing that guard.

Your eyes dropped down to a small frame sitting on the ground with some flowers around it, below the painting. A small click resounding behind you as you recognized the face. You didn’t bother turning around. You knew it wasn’t real.

It wasn’t real.

“It’s a shame, isn’t it?” The voice of an elderly woman spoke behind you.

This you did turn to look at, mildly startled out of your thoughts. “It’s sad.” You affirm. “Who was he?”

“He was the nighttime security guard. Did it for over twenty-five years.” She stepped forward, crossing her arms while looking down at the memorial. She seemed to be remembering something, maybe memories passed by. “John Spencer. Wonderful man.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” You felt guilty, standing here pretending like you knew nothing. This man died because of your failure. Just like Kate had, just like Rex and Rae almost had.

“It couldn’t have happened to someone less deserving. And such a horrible way to go…” She trailed off while shaking her head. “I like to upkeep his flowers, at first family and friends came to freshen them up. But they don’t come anymore. Not anymore.”

“He was shot, right? I mean, that’s what I heard. Couple people tried to rob the place, then shot him.”

“Oh no, he wasn’t shot-” The older woman clasped her hands together while rubbing her knuckles in a self-soothing gesture. “He was stabbed or- or something. Gutted more like.”

What?

“He was?” Your voice wavered slightly.

“Yes, when I arrived, the police were already on the scene, and he was gone but…” She cleared her throat. “There were pieces of him, of his insides all over. We had to have the piece professionally cleaned; blood had speckled all the way up past the top.” She gestured up to the huge painting. It must have been at least ten feet tall; it was also displayed several feet off the ground.

“All the way up there?” You asked again, outstretching your hand to point towards it.

“Horrific, yes?” She nodded. “Whoever did it must have stabbed him over and over with tremendous force.”

“Yeah.” You looked up again at the height to which she said the blood reached. That blood on the ground could have been yours. Afterall, you woke up later in the hospital. The “pieces of his insides” could have been your brain matter. But the blood splattering that high? That was not from you.

Stabbed with tremendous force, or practically detonated from the inside out.

Author's Note: The plot thickens :3, Sorry for all the drama centered chapters lately. Some more character driven ones are coming up soon.

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101

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spidernuggets · 1 month ago

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helllooo i know ive said this multiple times, but this is one of my platforms where i have the most followings. But again, COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN

apologies to those who are like BRUHHHH who this filling up the tags with a commission notification???

but idk if its the same anywhere else, but its so freakishly hard to get a job around my area, like even in damn mcdonalds, and i really can't keep relying on my parents for pocket money.

Now that im free from college, ive got some time on my hands to do lil work! I'm mainly aiming to be commissioned for artwork, but I'm also open to doing self-insert fics!

You can find commission info AND examples of my art if you go to my pinned navigation page and scroll to the bottom.

It'd be very appreciated! 🫶

any questions, shoot me a dm or ask in my inbox!

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spidernuggets · 1 month ago

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i have been fed well

Crawling Back to You

Chapter twelve

Synopsis: Rex just witnessed you turn into a human blood sprinkler, and Shapesmith is finally forced to reveal who he truly is.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 7.6k

Chapter: 12/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: Mild Descriptions of Blood, Alcohol

Note: For the sake of the fics consistency, I am having the whole reveal of Shapesmith being a Martian happen during the three days while the reader is out. So that conversation happens before Mark gets back, and it explains why it took them a while to finally discuss the discrepancies with Killdeer. This chapter is also really long so buckle up. There is quite a bit of tie-ins with the actual show that I wanted to include for anyone who has not seen season 2 in a while. And it also helps for continuity in the story.

Rex sat with his hands held out in front of him. The blood had begun to dry at his fingertips where the liquid had been spread out more sparsely. If he turned his hand slightly, he would be able to see how it clung to the different grooves in his fingers and under his nails. His palms glistened with the slickness of it, the cup of his hand gathering it in such a way that the substance did not dry as rapidly there as the other areas of his hands.

It was odd seeing this much on his bare hands. If this had happened in some random mission, it would be coating his gloves. He wouldn’t have been able to feel the warmth of it as his knuckles dipped into the ever-growing mass. His hand clenched around the soft flesh underneath her jaw, trying to hold her head above it all. Rex had panicked; the only thing he could think about was her drowning, not even if she was still alive to drown.

Now he could feel how cold it was, like the life had been drained from it after it had already left her body. Once she had been extracted from the premises, it no longer felt real.

It must have only been seconds before Cecil’s agents arrived. It was as if they appeared out of thin air, or if they had just been standing by waiting the whole time. The room had practically erupted in a litany of loudly barked orders. One of the agents had roughly shoved Rex back, if he was capable of thinking straight for more than two seconds he would be upset. But in a flash, they all disappeared, and Killdeer with them. Now the only thing that remained as proof it had happened was the mess on the floor and the quickly drying crimson on his hands.

Now he was sitting with his back against the kitchen cabinets, with his arms resting on his knees. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off his hands. Maybe he didn’t want to see the gore that was in front of him again yet. He wasn’t sure.

“Rex?”

At this point, Rex had forgotten how he had frantically called for Rudy such a short time ago. The adrenaline was starting to wane, and now he could feel the slight tremor starting. He turned his head to look over his shoulder to see Rudy, who was assessing the scene with a creased brow.

“What is this?” He asked, the corner of his mouth slightly downturned.

“Her.” Rex said after a few blinks, his attention turning finally back to the gore that lay in front of him. The bucket she had grabbed in the struggle had quickly overflowed, and the thick fluid had spread as far as it could, like waves flowing over the sand at high tide. Sparsely lying around were what looked like biological tissue of some type; a large piece was visible in the bucket, floating at the surface. It made Rex feel queasy.

Rudy remained silent, obviously having put together who it was, even without Rex uttering her name. After a few moments, the door opened again, the familiar sound of metal footsteps resounded off the flooring. An orange-hued mechanical figure walked past Rudy and immediately started to pick up the pieces of tissue.

“What-“ Rex suddenly felt the haze lift for a moment. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I am collecting samples. It is important that we test what exactly she is losing when this type of situation occurs. Is it fatty tissues? Muscle tissue? What is her body expelling? We have to work with what we have to figure out why.”

Rex watched Robot fish the sizable chunk out of the blood-filled bucket before turning his gaze back to Rudy. “Do you think…we should stop this?” Rudy cocked his head slightly at Rex’s new tone.

“Why?”

“Maybe this has gone far enough, and we should just leave her alone. She has proved herself in battle. I just watched her heal Bulletproof of a gash that would have taken weeks to heal naturally.” Rex’s eyebrows furrowed as he remembered their argument, how he had pushed her. Had he inadvertently caused this? “I just wonder when we will be satisfied.” He leaned his head back against the cabinets with a soft thud. “What is our goal?”

“You started this, Rex, are you trying to back out?” Rudy gave him a blank stare, and no comfort, not that Rex was expecting any comfort. “You would be satisfied letting someone whom you do not trust stay in the Guardians without taking the steps that are necessary to make sure they are trustworthy?”

“What difference does it make?” Rex sighed. “She gets results, better than some who have been in the field much longer than her.”

“And that sits right with you, Rex?”

Rex paused for a moment, closing his eyes. “I don’t fucking know.”

The mechanical Robot left the kitchen, trailing a few splatters of blood behind it, jarring the course of the conversation slightly.

“I am going to run some tests on the samples. I will keep you up to date unless you no longer want me to.” Rudy folded his arms and waited for a response.

“Keep me posted.” Rex finally said begrudgingly.

Rudy went to leave the kitchen in the trail of his robot. “You should clean this all up before anyone else sees it. It would just sew panic. Once I have all the data, we will show the rest of the team.”

He did not wait for an answer; the sound of the door shutting told Rex he was now alone. The adrenaline crash he was experiencing was still sending slight tremors through his body, but he stood up anyway.

Is it safe to pour this much human blood down the sink?

“Get up. Training session. Now.”

The sound of Immortal’s voice somehow always worked its way through the door like he was standing right next to you. Rex ran a hand over his face with no idea what time it was. Clean-up had taken much longer than he had expected. Even once he cleaned his hands and put on gloves, he still kept thinking he felt the sticky, warm texture seeping in underneath the latex. He did not even remember making it to bed, in his dreams he was still cleaning that damn floor.

He rolled onto his back to look at the ceiling for a moment, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He was more than tempted just to go back to sleep, ignoring the call. However, after a few moments of lying with his eyes shut, he realized he would rather be awake than return to the same imagery he had been seeing all night. Surprisingly, there was not a second call from Immortal. Which meant Rex intended to take his sweet time going down. His suit was laid crinkled up over the chair at his desk. There had been a time when Rex wondered how it got mended between missions, but everything seemed too busy now to worry about things as inconsequential as that.

It was different now that he was a Guardian. He could remember in the early days, before he felt comfortable asking Eve to mend it, how he would sit trying to sew holes shut himself. He could still feel the prick as he would accidentally go completely through the fabric. Who did it now?

He sat up in bed, glancing over the room for his goggles. His eyes rested for a moment on an empty bottle on the floor next to the desk. An empty bottle, with a crinkled yellow ribbon around the neck of it. The bottle Killdeer had brought as a peace offering. A peace offering for kicking his ass. He rubbed his chest absentmindedly. If he thought hard enough, he could feel the bruise still.

He was not sure how long he sat staring at that yellow ribbon, but eventually he managed to get up and pull his suit on.

Upon entering the training room, he saw they had started without him. Or they simply had not needed him yet. Even better, maybe they had factored in how long it would take him to arrive, and he was actually showing up on time. Either way, he could not seem to care.

Duplikate was fighting Monster Girl at the further end of the room. Rudy, Immortal, Bulletproof, and Shapesmith were spectating. As Rex journeyed forward to join the group, he felt his attention home in on Shapesmith. Something Killdeer had said resounded in his mind. “Shapesmith is clearly an alien of some sort and you’re more worried about me-” Why? Rex folded his arms, and he felt his jaw set tightly in a frown. Why was he so unbothered by Shapesmith? He didn’t like him; he told Shapesmith to his face that he unnerved him and that he did not like him. But why had he not set his interest on exposing him?

It had to be because all of them knew there was something off with Shapesmith. No one in the Guardians would be surprised if he opened his mouth right now to announce that Shapesmith was not from Earth. When it came to Killdeer, there were not a ton of happy feelings towards her, but recently, she was starting to feel like a real part of the team. Or at least to him she was. Why was this bothering him? Was he really that desperate to know the truth and seek justice? Or was it personal prejudice fed by Rudy’s technological backing?

��This is stupid! I can see in the dark!” Monster Girl’s gravelly voice took Rex out of his train of thought.

“That assumes you still have your eyes.” Immortal responded back almost immediately.

Duplikate took full advantage of her opponent’s blindness, attacking from multiple sides and eventually going straight for Monster Girl’s head. After some growling and grunting, Monster Girl stood centered between three duplicates of Kate.

“Time.” Immortal called out. “Monster Girl, Kate, shower off.”

How long had they been training for before he came down? Rex was starting to silently dread his upcoming turn; he was not in the mood nor the mindset for any of this.

“Bulletproof, Shapesmith, you’re up.” Well, that left Immortal himself and Rudy for Rex to practice with. He silently prayed that he would be paired with Rudy. Looking at him and Duplikate still put a bitter taste in his mouth.

Kate walked by with her eyes set very purposefully forward. Seems like she still felt the tensions as well. Amanda followed shortly behind her, and Rex could feel the gears turning in Rudy’s head. He never seemed to show emotion about anything except when it came to her. Part of Rex thought it was a little endearing, and then he remembered that Rudy stole his DNA to be able to date Amanda, and the fuzzy feelings stop abruptly. The whole situation was a little weird.

“Immortal, if I may have a moment, may I remind you that Monster Girl’s transformations cause her to age in reverse.”

“I know how my team’s powers work.” Immortal stated shortly. It almost made Rex scoff, as many issues as he might have at a given time with Rudy, he still couldn’t think of anyone else as the head of the Guardians but him.

“Then you must understand that this kind of training is hazardous for her. I’ve developed a simulation-” Rex watched out of the corner of his eye as Amanda stopped a few feet out, obviously listening in on the loud exchange.

“Hey, I can hear you, you know.” Amanda practically growled before returning to stand in front of the two.

“Amanda, I noticed the Immortal wasn’t tracking your transformations.” His tone was completely different when talking about her. It was almost hard to believe that the night before, he had casually selected pieces of biological matter from pools of blood without a single inflection entering his tone. And now he was stuttering even.

“It’s not his job to track my transformations.” Amanda pointed at Immortal and then extended her arm straight out to Rudy. “And it’s not yours, either.”

“But logically if there’s a way to mitigate your lost time-”

“If you get this controlling after one date, there’s not going to be another one.” Amanda glared back before turning to continue walking away.

This is ridiculous. “Oh no! Is eighth-grade prom cancelled?” Rex slid behind Rudy, considering what all about that whole interaction he could poke fun at. “Don’t tell me-” His jab was cut off by the sound of static right behind him, and before his eyes Cecil materialized, “Motherfucker!” He practically yelped, his heart jumping into his throat. It was the same sound that he had heard when the agents appeared to take Killdeer away. For a moment, he almost considered glancing behind Cecil to see if she was there. “Oh, fuck.” Rex panted, putting his hands on his knees for a second. “You know people try to kill us every single day, right? Just call, please!”

Cecil looked in no way impressed, his gaze immediately turning to Immortal. “We have a problem.”

A problem. Was this related to Killdeer? Rex felt his expression drop; would Cecil tell them about her if she was experiencing difficulties? Did Cecil know of Rex’s potential involvement in whatever had happened to her? He felt his heart rise to his throat again, this time not just because of Cecil’s unintentional jump scare.

“Well, what is it?” Rex tried to play it off as casual, but immediately felt his expression falter as Cecil’s eyes landed on him.

“Gather the rest of the team and meet us in the command area. I am going to talk to Immortal.”

“Seriously?” Rex gave a dramatic sigh, but Rudy immediately went to do as Cecil instructed. Shapesmith and Bulletproof following in Rudy’s footsteps.

Cecil stared Rex down, waiting for him to follow suit, eventually, he did, quietly grumbling to himself. If he was lucky, it would be some impending disaster rather than something directly related to him.

Impending disaster.

Rex looked up at the giant shimmering hologram of a Martian ship, the inner layers of it glowing red. Cecil explained that they had no way of making contact with whoever or whatever was on board. They all took a few steps forward to further analyze the diagram, leaving Shapesmith and Black Samson standing a few feet behind the others.

“Ship’s coming from Mars, huh? I wonder if there’s anyone here with insider knowledge of Mars.” Rex turned to see Black Samson’s gaze directed at Shapesmith.

Sure enough, Shapesmith was a Martian, which Cecil announced that they all knew. Rex was not about to correct him on that. Shapesmith began to tell his story about how he arrived from Mars to Earth, which he achieved by knocking someone out and practically stealing his identity. Which, on some level, impressed Rex; he didn’t think Shapesmith had it in him.

“Ah, okay, so we have god knows how many of those things headed here, they possessed the real Rus Livingston and they’re capable of possessing a million more of us. And it’s all your fault.” Cecil walked forward as he talked, ending directly in front of Shapesmith.

“Yes, you understand now…oh, that’s bad.”

“Hang on.” Bulletproof started, “We’re gonna believe this guy? He lied to us the whole time.”

Maybe Black Samson and Rex weren’t the only ones who did not know he was a Martian.

“No, before, I was lying. Now I’m telling the truth. It’s very different.” Shapesmith corrected.

“You left an American astronaut up there to die.” Immortal stepped in, leaning in so that Shapesmith had to lean back slightly away from him.

A small outburst of complaints resounded from the surrounding group as Rex turned his gaze back to the hologram. If these things could take control of humans, he had no chance against them in that confined of a space.

“Shut up, all of you.” Cecil stepped between Immortal and Shapesmith. “There will be consequences for this. But that ship cannot be allowed to reach Earth. And Shapesmith is the only source of intelligence we have.” Intelligence felt like too strong a word for Rex. “We need him. For now.”

“The team will be me, Bulletproof, Black Samson, Monster Girl and… Shapesmith. Rex, Shrinking Rae, Kate and Rudy, you’ll hold things down here.” Immortal said, immediately getting down to business.

Black Samson would probably be just as exposed as Rex would be, but he was not about to volunteer himself for this one. And maybe he had ulterior motives for wanting to stay behind. He glanced over at Cecil for a second, debating on if he should ask after Killdeer or not.

“It’s an alien spacecraft, so you’ll need my technical expertise. I’ll be protected in my suit.” Rudy added.

“Agreed. Rudy, you go too.” Cecil concurred.

“No, you don’t understand. There are millions of sequids on that ship. Maybe hundreds of millions. We won’t be enough.”

“Look-” Rex interjected before he fully finished that thought he was about to add. “I realize this is out of character, but I have an idea.”

“And that is?” Cecil raised a brow at Rex, folding his arms.

“Well, the obvious answer is Invincible and Eve, right?” Rex shrugged slightly.

“Invincible is not available right now.” Cecil said shortly.

“Well, fuck, when will he be?”

Cecil looked off to the side for a moment as if considering. “In a few days’ time maybe.”

“When is the carrier set to arrive at its destination?” Rudy asked.

“About two weeks, we attempted contact immediately after receiving notification of it leaving the Mar’s surface.”

“Then I will go talk to Eve tomorrow, and hopefully Invincible shows up in time.” Rex glanced back and forth between Immortal and Cecil, but neither of them seemed to have an instantaneous disagreement with his input.

The crowd slowly dispersed as each of them went in different directions, leaving Shapesmith, Cecil, Immortal, and Rex. Immortal seemed determined to squeeze more intel out of Shapesmith, bombarding him with questions. Rex turned his focus onto Cecil, who was watching them quietly.

What were the chances it was actually his fault? The question that had been resounding in his head since the evening before. Cecil seemed to always know everything, so even if he didn’t say anything, it was likely that he was not doing himself any favors on the suspicions side of things.

Cecil turned his attention to Rex as he stepped forward, the discourse between Immortal and Shapesmith fading into the background.

“Rex.” Cecil nodded in a partial greeting.

“So…I have a question.” Rex started, tapping his hands on his thighs absentmindedly.

“And I might have an answer.” Cecil gave him a mildly unimpressed look.

Fuck, why was this so hard to ask about? “Uh, Killdeer, is she-”

“She is fine.” Cecil said abruptly.

For an instant, Rex felt his shoulders relax at this. He had not watched her die after all. But after a moment more of consideration, he realized that this was not a satisfying answer.

“What the fuck happened? Is that normal?” Rex thought back to the footage Rudy had gained access to not that long ago. She has experienced this at least twice now. How often had this been happening? Was there lasting damage?

“We are still collecting all the details.” Cecil tilted his head slightly. “But, she is fine. Focus your energies on talking to Eve.”

Blue static engulfed him as he finished his statement, leaving Rex standing there staring at the wall behind him.

That sure was a way to share absolutely nothing at all.

“You know, it’s been like five years, and your parents still haven’t fixed the lock on your window.” Rex slid the office chair closer to Eve as she sat on her bed. “I’m starting to wonder if maybe they want you to be abducted.”

“I’m not in the mood Rex.” Eve muttered, her fingertips pressed to her temple.

“And I’m not here to make fun of you.” He was not sure what was happening to her to make her this sour, other than his surprise appearance. Actually, maybe that warranted it. But either way, with the past few days he was having, he was not really in the mood either.

Eve gave him a skeptical look. “Seriously.” When she maintained the look, he groaned. “Or to get in your pants. Or whatever you think I’m here to do. But when I heard you were back here, I knew something was wrong.”

Once Cecil had so abruptly left the day before, he had realized he had no clue where Eve was these days. He heard something about her having a treehouse, but that’s all. Eventually he sucked it up and asked Rudy, who told him she was back at her parents’ house. Something he considered as somewhat of a second hell for her. During their long period of dating, he had met her parents a few times, and none of those experiences yielded positive results.

“I don’t need your pity, Rex.” Eve crossed her arms.

“Since when do I do pity?” He laughed, and Eve sighed while lying back on her bed.

“Did you see what I did in Chicago? The park collapse?”

“I heard about it, yeah.” Kate had been poking fun about it one day before training to some other members, but he had not looked into it past that.

“Yeah, I messed up. People almost got hurt. And then I took it out on Killcannon and people did get hurt.” She sighs again, holding her hands up in frustration. “I try to help and all I do is cause more problems. My parents were right. Who do I think I am?”

“Everybody fucks up. To fuck up is human.” He’d be lying if he said he had not been waiting for a good moment to drop this line. “Shakespeare said that. The immortal. Black Samson. Freaking Robot, or Rudy or whatever he calls himself now.” For a moment, he thought back to how he had frantically called for Rudy while blood crept closer and closer to his shoes. His fingers holding her hair back as she retched. “They’ve all shit the bed at least once. Having powers isn’t easy, but we do our best.” He stood up and walked over to her dresser, pulling one of the drawers open. “Even assholes like me.” He hoped it was true. It was, right? All this pressure he had been putting on Killdeer was him doing his best. Wanting the best for the team. It had to be. “Just do the math, Eve. You are so far in the black that it’s stupid.”

Rex pulled out the photo of her and her ‘siblings’, holding it out to her as he reminded her of all the good she had done. Both in his life and others. No matter how many mistakes she had made, there were hundreds of exemplary things she had done too.

“So, dry your tears, tell your parents to go shove it up their asses, and get back out there, right?”

“All right.” Eve chuckles. “Thanks Rex. Now what do you want?”

“I am offended.” He does a mock gasp before continuing. “But yes, I do have a tiny favor to ask that involves a space rocket ship. Pew-pew-pew?”

“That small, huh?” Eve sighs. “Is this for Cecil?”

“Well, maybe.”

“Fate of the world?”

“Even heavier, maybe.”

“Ugh.” Eve lies back in the bed for a moment, her gaze on the ceiling. “I guess it would be good to actually do some good.”

“Great.” Rex said, sitting back slightly. But there was still a weighted silence around them.

“Is that all?” Eve asked after a few moments.

“No, not exactly.” He sighs, still internally debating if he should bring this up to her, but he has no one else to discuss this with. “This is less of a favor but more me asking you if I have been an incomprehensible ass.”

“The answer is yes.”

“Can I tell the story first?” He furrowed his brow.

“You can, but I am betting that it will still be a yes.”

“Ugh.” He ran a hand over his face, leaning forward more again in the chair while resting his elbows on the armrests. “I am not sure how to make this short and sweet, give me a second.”

“Oh boy.” She laughed.

“Shut up!” He bristled defensively. “Fine, there’s this new member on the Guardians. Killdeer, she fucking heals shit I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He said sourly.

“Okay? What about her?” She rose up slightly on her elbows. “You trying to sleep with her?”

“Jesus, is that all you think of me?”

“So that’s a yes?”

“No! It’s not a fucking yes. You know what, never mind.” He places his hands on the armrests, preparing to push himself up to go.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing. What’s going on?” Eve put her hand out to gesture for him to sit down again.

Rex grumbled but conceded, sitting back further while folding his hands together. “I don’t trust her.”

“Have you talked to anyone else on the team about this?”

“Robot. In fact, we have gathered quite a bit of evidence to prove that something is going on. We just don’t really know what.”

“Has Cecil looked into her?”

“Cecil brought her on himself. She was apparently working with him for months beforehand.” He sighed, tapping the pad of his left thumb on the point of his right thumb.

“So, what is the big deal?” Eve asked, raising a brow at him.

“I don’t fucking know!” He bursts, taking a moment, he closes his eyes, and calms down a little. “I don’t know.” He admits quieter. “She is fairly competent in battle and has been improving at astonishing rates. Too good of rates. And…” He hesitates for a moment, then continues. “Robot found footage of her. I am not even sure how to describe it. It was a blood bath-”

“She killed people?” Eve sat up completely at his, her hands set out behind her to prop her up.

“Not that we saw. The blood was hers. Started fucking pouring out of her eyes, ears everywhere. Freaky shit.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.” He bites the inside of his lip, thinking further. “I wasn’t sure what to think, and then it happened in front of me. A few days ago.” He looked up at Eve. “I felt the warmth of her blood as it left her fucking body, Eve.”

“God.” Eve exclaimed softly. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know.” He repeated. “We were arguing beforehand, the usual stuff.”

“I’m not surprised there.”

Rex ignores her and continues. “She was fine, perfectly fine. She had just healed Rae and Bulletproof. And then I saw a drop run down her face. It was like a tear, but so obviously blood.” He started tapping his fingers lightly on the arm rests. “Once she was out, Cecil’s guys came and got her immediately. I asked Cecil about her, and he just said she was fine. She didn’t look fucking fine when I saw her.”

“Maybe it is some kind of side effect? Overextending her abilities?” Eve reasons.

“If it is, shouldn’t we as a team have been made aware that could happen?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Eve sighs, “But you know how Cecil is, if it’s not impertinent that we know, he doesn’t tell us. So, what, it’s not new.”

Rex groaned in frustration and leaned back, his gaze landing on her ceiling. She was right, this was not new. Why did he care so much?

“What is the real issue, Rex?”

“What if…” Rex studied the grooves of the ceiling for a moment before turning his focus back to Eve. “What if I did that to her? I’m sitting here talking to you about how all heroes make mistakes. Sometimes fucking big ones. What if I have been focusing my energies on this person for no reason? All based on a stupid hunch. And I have inadvertently cause injury?”

“Careful, Rex, you almost sound like you care.” Eve tried to joke, but when Rex remained looking serious, she continued. “Look, Cecil said she was fine. If you are really so concerned about it then why don’t you be a normal human being and apologize when you see her next.”

Rex hmphed, looking out the window over her shoulder as she continued. “And if you don’t want to do that, maybe just start leaving her alone.”

“What if I am right? And not looking into her further hurts the team?” Rex asked.

“You don’t care about the team, Rex.” Eve scoffs. “You care about being right. Question is, do you care more about being right, or how this one singular person views you?”

Rex ran a finger over the rim of his glass, his attention on a couple in the corner trying and failing to throw darts at the dartboard.

What a dumpster fire. Rudy obviously had no problem throwing him under the bus.

He could still see her in the elevator, the way her brow furrowed in genuine hatred. She had never pointed such an expression at him, even after all the shit he had given her. It shouldn’t bother him. He didn’t owe her anything. Even still, he found himself finishing off his glass and ushering the bartender for more at the thought of it.

You were a few blocks away. If he got up now, he could be there in ten minutes tops. That was his original intention. After some convincing, Rae had told him where your apartment was. She seemed satisfied with the idea of Rex trying to fix things, even if she was starting to have some doubts about Killdeer herself after Rudy’s display. She had given him Killdeer’s number too, which he had already tried to call and message. A multitude of times. Even for him.

He looked down at his phone, a string of messages only on the right side of the screen illuminating upwards.

-Hey, this is Rex, could we talk?

-Rex Splode btw.

-From the guardians.

-Rae gave me your number.

-Shrinking Rea.

-*Rae

-Please pick up.

Rex sighed heavily as the bartender put down his new glass, tracing his finger absentmindedly over the rim again. He watched as the phone rang once, then went straight to voicemail. Before typing “Can you fucking grow up? Answer!” His finger hovered over the send for a moment before dropping his hand to tap on the bar.

He looked over at the couple again, frowning slightly as they laughed. Immortal’s Martian team had left a few hours ago. It was a quiet night. If it were any other night at the bar, he would probably be completely wasted right now, without a single thought towards how hungover he would be in the morning.

He took a sip, his eyes returning to the screen again. His face felt a little warm, the buzz of his multiple drinks starting to haze his brain slightly. He deleted the message and typed out another along the lines of “Sorry if I have the wrong number, could you tell me if this is the wrong number?” After he hit send, he sent a slew of other messages, correcting his original spelling and reiterating again that this is Rex, Rex Splode…By the way.

He finished the rest of his drink, returning his gaze for a final time to the couple. They were standing at a cocktail table, laughing and talking obnoxiously close. The man reaching forward to curl a lock of the woman’s hair between his pointer and middle finger.

Oh brother. Rex rolled his eyes before asking the bartender for the bill. His attention snapped back to his phone as it vibrated against the side of his hand. His stomach clenched uncomfortably just for him to see that it was Rae asking how it was going. Get. A. Grip.

He stood up, grabbing his coat off the back of the barstool. Brushing past a few people to exit the bar. The ongoing rainfall immediately started seeping through his clothes, sending a chill down his spine and immediately ridding him of his buzz.

“Fuck.” He looked both ways before pulling his phone back out to look up her address.

He could practically hear the water cascade off his clothes as he stood outside your door, his hand hovering in a knocking position and his chest rising and falling rapidly. Maybe he shouldn’t have run those last few blocks. He was cold, and his fingers were numb as he typed out one last message before calling again. Voicemail.

His knuckles rapped softly against the door at first. If she did not respond, he would just leave. Don’t make this a whole thing.

Silence.

Maybe she didn’t hear him, that’s fine. He knocked again, a bit swifter, with more force.

“Who is it?” A voice sounded from deeper in the apartment.

“Rex.” He said without thinking, immediately wanting to slap himself when there was no further answer.

Fuck it. He’s already blown up her phone and shown up at her damn apartment, might as well commit.

His knuckles connected with the door repeatedly, almost desperately. He needed to see her; he was not sure what he would do after that, but why think further ahead?

“Go away!” Her voice rang out from somewhere closer to the door now.

He stopped for a moment. What was he doing? This was ridiculous. But still he knocked a few more times, quieter this time, leaning forward slightly as his head rested on the wood, it would have been cool against his skin if he wasn’t already on the brink of hypothermia. “Please…” He finally uttered softly.

Silence drew out for a little longer, but he heard a resigned sigh from right on the other side of the door. “Why, Rex.”

He was still trying to regulate his breathing, the shivers that ran over him forcing his breath out a little harsher. And something else, excitement? The sound of her voice. He didn’t want to think about it much further; it begged too many questions he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge.

“I…I have to talk to you. Fuck- Please Joy.” He closed his eyes sucking in a deep breath before quietly saying her actual name. He rarely used it; in fact, he avoided calling her anything most of the time, even nicknames. Maybe in a way, it helped to dehumanize her, make her into less of a real person who was affected by his actions.

There is a soft click he recognizes as the door unlocking, which has him standing up straight so that she does not open it with him leaning on it. He had seen her earlier, very briefly. But other than that, it had been days. The last time he had seen her ended with her passed out and him being shoved away by a GDA agent. He had not been able to just take her in fully during her outburst earlier at the Headquarters .

She did not look happy to see him, her gaze travelling over him with an unreadable expression he could only think must have been contempt. With every second that passed, he started to feel more and more awkward, but he was afraid to say anything that would cause her to close the door. He was surprisingly content just looking at her, seeing that she was unharmed.

He really wanted to ask her if this was a side effect. He had wondered since day one, but he was afraid of the idea that it wasn’t. He should ask Rae if she feels it. It would be better than asking Killdeer to her face.

“Can I come in?” He almost holds his breath as he can physically see the gears turning in her head. It is so obvious that she wants to say no, he can see her mouth forming around the word.

“Fine.” Oh.

Oh?

He steps into the apartment as she steps aside, his mind going completely blank. He hadn’t thought as far as her front door and definitely had not expected to be standing in her apartment.

“Did you walk here?”

“What? No.” He tried to shrug it off, his face feeling slightly warm at this. He started to look around her apartment, his eyes landing on a shelving unit with books on it. Some of them were mismatched. Most of them were actually. Their subjects ranged widely, from gardening to cooking to autobiographies. Somehow, he doubted all of these were to her tastes; they all looked like they had never been touched.

There were three books on the second shelf that immediately stood out. Their spines were cracked, and on the smallest one, the front cover was splitting off the book. Two of them were quite large, and easily could have been college-level textbooks. One was labelled Anatomy and Physiology, and the other was Neuroscience. The third had the name worn off of it, but it looked like a kid’s chapter book.

“You like the family tree?” He looked back at her to see her walking away, his attention returned to a collection of empty, connected frames. His gaze hardened slightly as he looked over it. He was not sure why, but it upset him slightly. Maybe it was still the slight buzz in his system.

“You’re making a mess everywhere.” She was holding a towel out to him. He took it after brief hesitation, before trying to dry off the ends of his pants and the sleeves of his jacket.

“I like your apartment, the interior design here is…” He paused, looking around, “nice.”

Dumbass.

“Oh, thanks?”

Dumbass.

“It actually came mostly furnished; I did not want to search for furniture while also trying to settle in with the Guardians, you know? Kinda…busy.”

DUMBASS.

“Oh.” He looked around again, it was still nice looking though. “Well, it’s nice.” He paused briefly, considering just leaving, nothing fruitful would come from this. He drank too much; he’d just tell her that. Maybe insult her, something.

“So-”

“Uh-”

“Oh sorry-”

“No, you go first.” What happened to insulting her and leaving? He could cringe if he wanted to be that self-aware for more than five seconds.

“Not to interrupt your sightseeing in my apartment, but what exactly do you want, Rex?”

God, he must seem like a creep. He suddenly blurted out: “You have to come back to the Guardians of the Globe-”

“No.” She responded immediately.

He furrowed his brow slightly, now turning to completely face her. It was time to stop being coy. “You’re a strong asset to the team-”

“Oh, do not give me that rehearsed bullshit. Is Cecil feeding that to you right now? Because that’s a new low for him.” She glared at him in return, the atmosphere immediately turning more tense.

“Fuck, Joy what do you want me to say?”

“I am not going back; you’re wasting your time. I am sure that you have better ways to spend your evening than being here beating a dead horse. Also, I am getting tired of you calling me that.” She placed her hand on the door handle after taking a step back.

“Half the Guardians just left on some bullshit expedition to Mars, only Rae, Kate, and I stayed behind. If anything happens-” He gritted his teeth, trying to weigh the chances of this making any difference. As confused as he was feeling, he was also starting to lose his very short patience with her. “At least wait until the others get back to go on this pity party.”

“Seriously? If you need back-up so bad ask Mark.”

“He left with them.”

“Honestly, Rex, I do not care. You’re a big boy, I think you can hero without me holding your hand for a little bit.”

He felt the corners of his mouth drop in a grimace before practically snarling, “What is your deal!” He was not going to get anywhere, acting like himself, he needed to take another approach. “I did not come here to fight or force you.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “Alright, this has been fun, bye Rex!” She started to open the door, just for Rex, to push it closed again, the maneuver bringing him much closer to her than he had been before. Her eyes open slightly in shock, her hand letting go of the doorknob.

“Fuck, this isn’t-” He stopped, trying to form the words, what was the point he was even trying to make? Was he trying to get her to rejoin the Guardians or apologize? Or maybe neither? After his talk with Eve, he had considered apologizing, and somehow, he was further from that now that than he had been this morning. All he could do then was freeze up at the sight of her, unbloodied and alive.

“Rex, you’re drunk-”

Fuck, that’s what she thinks is happening right now? “No-”

“It is really late-”

“No-”

“I am tired, it’s been a really long day-”

He exclaimed her name in frustration, and after a brief pause, he spoke again. “You’re not listening. I’m not drunk.” He utters slowly, the words escaping from his gritted teeth.

“Do you need me to call a car to drive you back?” She finally says after a tense silence. Breaking the invisible line between them to go grab her phone.

The moment that car arrived, he would have to leave; he had to think. He pinched the bridge of his nose trying to conceal his frustration. He was doing everything in his power to come across with some semblance of maturity, which was a very new feeling to him.

Killdeer was standing a few feet in front of him again; he could see the time estimation for when the car would arrive. It was going to be surprisingly soon. He had to talk.

“You did not really leave because of me, did you?” He finally let out.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Say it wasn’t my fault.” He felt desperate, knew he probably sounded pathetic. Any time he ever had sounded like that was either with layers of sarcasm or an ulterior motive to get someone in bed with him. This time, he meant it. He wanted her to tell him that it was someone else’s fault. Rudy, Cecil, fucking Immortal, he didn’t care. He stepped towards her, his hand slightly outstretched towards her.

And she immediately took a step back. She didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. Why would he expect anything else?

“Goddamn it.”

The rest was a blur to him. At some point, they left the apartment and entered the elevator. He could feel her eyes resting on him. Probably pitying him. Here he was, showing up to her apartment late at night, soaking wet and miserable looking. In the morning, he was going to feel embarrassed about this.

She had left him behind in the elevator to go talk to the driver. It was one of the GDA cars, he recognized it immediately. Not that he thought she would call him a random taxi, but somehow, still he was surprised. As he’s catching up, she goes to open the back seat for him. One last-ditch effort. His hand, less forcefully this time, lands on the frame of the door, stopping her from opening it.

He’s inches away from her, any thought he had immediately becomes harder to concentrate on as she looks up at him, rain trickling down her face.

Side effect of her powers or not, he was mesmerized by her. It took him weeks to admit to himself, but he was prepared to do it now. Water droplets glistening on her hair as she stood in silence, staring back up at him. There was no way she didn’t feel it; to him, it felt like a gravitational pull. Out of his control, but very present.

“The driver will take you to the headquarters.” Her eyes trail down to his shirt collar before slowly traveling back up to his face.

“Come with me.” He furrows his brow against the rain, he didn’t know what else to say to her, He just knew he did not want to leave her.

“No.” She said in a low tone, finally giving him a semblance of a real smile, obviously meant to soften the blow. And fuck if it didn’t make it worse.

And in that instant, he leaned slightly forward, the thought entering his head to close the distance between them. It would solve nothing, none of the issues he had with her or himself. But he wanted nothing more in the world than to know what she felt like, what her lips felt like. Maybe he was more inebriated than he thought. “Please.” It’s practically a beg.

“Goodnight, Rex.” She says after a few moments. Rex watches as her lips curl around his name, it makes him feel bitter to see it. But even then, she did not move, her eyes remained on him and for a moment he considered leaning in completely.

And then she stepped back.

Flickers of disappointment crossed his subconscious before he tried to push them away. He got in the car without saying another word, watching as she continued to stand in the rain to see the car leave.

“There is a situation Director Stedman wants the Guardians to attend to.” The driver interrupts the silence as soon as the car pulls out into the road. “He told me to tell you there is a nuclear threat.”

Rex groans, rubbing his temple, before taking off his jacket and shirt to reveal his suit. “Fill me in.”

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long for me to get around to! I really struggle with chapters that have a mix of dialogue from the show. But I made it extra long so you guys can eat well :3. I finally formatted out a large portion of the rest of the fic as well, and with how things are headed it is set to be over 100k words long 😭 good lordddd

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101

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