Tox

Masterlist

Rex Splode x F!Reader

Synopsis: Rex-Splode is probably the most condescending, asinine, person you have ever met. He has made your life nothing but harder. So you quit. The Guardians of the Globe? What a joke. You are surrounded by assholes. Rex-Splode being the biggest of them all. Except, now he keeps trying to call you. And there's a knock at the door.

Tags: enemies to lovers; slowburn so slow it really burns; no use of y/n; yearning; idiots in love; hurt/comfort (a lot xoxo); high tension; hemokenetic!Reader; fluff; plot heavy; eventual smut; fix-it fic; Rex Splode is bad at feelings; Switch!Rex; Switch!Reader; beta-read in progress

Tropes: (specific) he fell first, and he fell harder, gala/dance, one bed, aquarium dates, weddings

Warnings: extreme depictions of gore/graphic injuries, alcohol use, PTSD-like episodes, explicit smut, unprotected p in v

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 (Rex POV) Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 (Rex POV) Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 (Rex POV) Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 (Rex POV) Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 (NSFW) Chapter 24 Chapter 25 (Rex POV) Chapter 26 (NSFW) Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 (Rex POV) Chapter 31 (Rae POV) & 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 (NSFW) Epilogue

Tag: #crawlingbacktoyourexfic

Still a work in progress; edits to be made, no more chapters Ao3 Export

Total Word Count: 206,246

Beta-Read Chapters: 1/35

Crawling Back to You

Chapter thirty-five

Synopsis: A year has passed since you and Rex quit being superheroes. Assimilation has been it's own beast, but life keeps moving.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 14.3k

Chapter: 35/35

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW/CW: Tooth Rotting Fluff, and Weddings

Note: Another special thank you to @cheeyan for helping me edit several of the more recent chapters, and work through all the old ones :3 love ya

This is extremely self indulgent and entirely fluff, hope you enjoy. Also super freaking long.

The walk isn’t far. You’ve made it more times than you could count in the last year alone. With the access in time it’s only gotten more nostalgic. The clinic that you work at is located downtown, and most days the streets are easy to traverse. Usually, in the winter, the plows come through early in the morning to clear the way, but once or twice you’ve nearly been snowed in during storms that rolled through without warning. Your coworkers still marvel at how your partner came to the rescue and somehow single handedly dug you all out enough so that everyone could go home. You’d teased him when you got home over how inconspicuous he could be, and then groaned when you thought about how all the snow he’d “magically” melted would be a thick sheet of ice tomorrow morning. 

In the spring, a few times you’d slipped while trying to run through the rain. Once, you’d fully wiped out in front of several spectators who rushed to help, and just barely missed your scraped hand lacing itself up. When you’d arrived where you were going, your partner had put your earlier blunder together by the sopping wet mess that was your clothes. Your shoulders hunched, an embarrassed smile on your face as you trailed water onto polished wooden floors. It felt poetic at the time, watching him gather dishrags and wipe up the mess. A story you’d seen before.

Now it’s summer again. The scorching sun had no mercy as it beat down on you, forcing perspiration onto your skin. One more day like this and you were going to stop your lunch break visits. He could come visit you for once. 

Not that he hadn’t offered. But you liked the free food that you usually got when you visited him. 

Still, today had to be a record breaking heat. You’d considered cancelling, but he’d told you that he had something special planned. So, you trudged, somewhat irritably, through the streets toward a very familiar sight with neon lights. A bar. The fluorescent orange of the sign blinked lazily, dimmed for the daytime, but still on. Which you’d told him multiple times was unnecessary. And he’d responded multiple times with: “The customers love it.”

“The customers don’t give a shit.”

“Well, let's ask, shall we?”

“Let’s not.” You’d groaned, but he was already shouting across the bar to the regulars. 

“You guys like the sign being on all the time, right?”

There’s a grumbled murmur of agreement, that would have been much more loud and rowdy if it hadn’t been one in the afternoon. 

“See?” He’d looked proud anyways, like they’d given him a booming applause. 

“You could ask them if they’d give their first born to you and they’d probably say yes. I doubt it's because they actually care.”

He’d laughed, then put on a much more serious face and whispered. “Don’t say that too loud, I don’t want them offering that instead of paying again.”

As you were reaching for the metal handle, someone walked though, nearly walking into you. You both murmured apologies to each other, before you moved through the doorway. The temperature change is drastic, the AC inside the building must have been cranked unreasonably high. Hopefully he was fully aware of just how much that was costing him. 

You pushed aside your crankyness from the weather to take a breath, letting yourself relish in the cool for a few breaths. 

“Stop interrupting him!” Hissed an elderly voice. 

“Charles, he does this every single day!” Another voice barked out.

“And I haven’t figured it out yet, have I? So, shut the hell up!”

“We probably guessed it months ago, and he won’t just admit it.” The second one grumbled.

“Are you seriously calling my integrity into question, in my own bar?” The bartender scoffed dryly. 

“I’m just saying! I’ve looked it up plenty of times and all the ways it can be done you’ve said aren’t correct.”

“That’s because I made up my own way, now pay attention and get to guessing or you're paying for your own drinks.”

“We’ll be paying for our own drinks anyways.” The second groaned. 

You moved forward a few steps, leaning against a wooden column near the entrance, content to watch the card trick that you’d seen hundreds of times by now. 

The bartender fans out the cards, showing them one that they must have picked right before you’d walked in. 

“Ace of hearts, right?” 

“No—” 

“Don’t fuck with me Charles, I’ll charge you double.”

“Don’t fuck with me! I’ll walk out of here without paying!”

“And I’ll call your wife and tell her you’re back here again instead of at the chiropractor like you told her!”

The old man huffs out a gargled laugh at that, finally conceding that his card was indeed an ace of hearts.

“Okay.” The bartender says, swiping his right hand over the cards one last time. “As always, I have no sleeves, you can look over the counter and see it’s not on the ground. So, look for your card.”

The two men riffle through the pile, turning them each over until they get to the last one, which is a king of spades. 

“How’d I do it?” The bartender has a shit eating grin, his arms folding across his chest loosely. A motion that has you only staring at his arms. 

Charles moves the cards, feeling the grain of the wooden bar. “There’s a slit here somewhere that drops it under the bar.”

“Uh, no.” He laughs.

The other begins to inspect the cards from their sides, trying to peel them apart. “Somehow you get it to stick perfectly with another card.”

“Again, no. Any other guesses?”

“You’re such a bullshitter.”

“And you both owe me eleven dollars each.”

“Tell us how you did it first.” The younger one says sourly.

“If I tell you how I do it then you’ll tell the other patrons.” 

“I won’t. This has been driving me insane for months. Just tell me!”

“It’s magic.” You finally speak up, stepping up to the bar with a smile. “He’s a wizard.”

The bartender’s eyes light up at the sound of your voice, and before you can make it to the stools he’s stooping over the divider to peck a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“Hey.” He grins. “Stop giving away my tricks.”

“Hi.” You coo in return. “Do I get a free meal since I knew?”

The two men have turned their attention to you, saying your name in unison, which you’ll never get used to. The slow revelation that every single patron and regular at Rex’s bar knows your name would have been nothing short of a horror story, if you hadn’t heard all of the stories he told to them retold back to you. And even though they were all marginally a bit different from what they were originally, for anonymity, they’d all somehow painted you as his savior who never did anything wrong. Even when that definitely wasn’t the case with certain entries. 

“You’ve got to make him tell us. It’s been months honey and he’s still maintaining that we haven’t figured it out.” Charles leans forward to peer at you past the shoulder of his companion. 

“Yeah,” the other started, “And how does he do the candle thing?”

“Oh, I found that out months ago. He puts silver fulminate on his fingers before he snaps, which causes the spark.” The older responds, while waving his hand at the other as if he’s asking something stupid.

“You wanna tell them?” Rex has backed up a few inches, his palms still planted against the bar, and his eyes still fastened onto you. With time he’d only seemed to get worse with public displays of affection. Sometimes you didn’t mind. Other times you definitely did. He was the overgrown equivalent of a velcro baby somedays. Which on days with this kind of heat, was a bad combination. 

“Also magic.” You turn to the two older men, giving them a wink. 

“Bah.” The older one waved off. “You’re both ridiculous.”

“Fine.” You groan. “He uses superpowers. He lights the candle with his fingers. No tricks.”

Rex stiffens almost imperceptibly in your peripherals, but the two men are now rolling their eyes while pulling out their wallets. 

“Just give us our bills.” The younger one mutters. 

It raises your mood exponentially. Rex finally steps away from your section, moving to grab their cards as they pull them free of their worn leather prisons. 

You check your phone. Twenty minutes left of your break, not counting the walk back. 

“Hey, Sloane,” He glances over to you at his name. “My break ends in twenty.”

“What?” He seems genuinely shocked, a much bigger reaction than you were expecting. His movements become rushed, accidently dropping one of the cards on the floor behind the bar while trying to hand it back. “Shit—Sammy, cover for me okay?”

The other worker who’d been restocking a beer freezer toward the corner glanced over and nodded her head. “‘Kay, boss.” 

Rex is already pulling his apron from over his head, and then wall jumps the bar, landing on your side. It would have been downright unsanitary if any of him touched the bar. Instead it was just over the top. But you thought it was a little cute how much of a rush he was making over this. He was acting like this was his last chance to see you in days, when in reality you’d see him in a few hours after work ended. 

The patrons don’t even bother to comment on the maneuver, having seen it more than once by now. 

“You’re a shit magician. Can’t even make the card reappear.” Charles comments, while shoving his card back in its slot.

“But I’m damn good at making it disappear!” Rex calls out over his shoulder, tossing his apron over one of the stools at the edge of the bar. “No one steal that! I’ll be back in twenty.” 

He speeds up, physically pulling you back by the shoulder of your shirt so that he can step in front of you and grab the door.

“Seriously?”

He shrugs.

You step through the threshold, groaning internally as the sticky humid air greets you. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

“Let's take a walk.” He slides his hand down your arm to your palm, intertwining his fingers with yours. His skin is much cooler than yours from a long morning and afternoon in air conditioning, so you’ll let it slide for now. But the moment he starts making your hands sweat, you’ll be prying him off of you, no matter how cute he is. 

“Please tell me that you actually have something planned.” You bite back a smile looking up at him. 

“I do!”

“Well last time you said that you had something planned it was—”

“That was Rae’s fault, not mine! She said you wouldn’t like a big surprise!”

“Regardless of if I would or wouldn’t, I’m not sure a single flower and a burnt cupcake constitute a surprise of small or large proportions."

“Hey, you said you liked it.”

“It was very cute.”

“See?” He stands a little taller at that, pride lacing his demeanor.

“It wasn’t a surprise though.” 

“Ah, whatever.” He grumbles, shrinking again. 

“So…” You start, letting him lead your strides. “What are you going to do if they actually guess how you make the card disappear?”

Rex snorts. “They won’t guess.”

You unlace your hand from his and hold his palm up to him, a light dusting of soot stained between the grooves and calluses. “Then you’d better hope they never notice this.” 

“I don’t think they actually want to know.” Rex laughs, twisting his hand to grab yours again. “They like the mystery of it, it keeps their lives interesting.”

“Keeps them frustrated is what it does.” You chuckle.

“You jealous I don’t save that just for you?” He knocks his shoulder into yours, shooting you a sly smirk. Which you heat up at. Even after being with him for almost two years his stupid flirting still got to you. 

“I saw Sammy was back. I thought you fired her.” You muse.

“I did.” He sighs. “She’s always late. But…She kept showing up, and none of the applicants were very promising. So she’s back, I guess.”

You snort at that, earning a cross look from Rex. “Sorry, it’s just ironic. I’m still getting used to you not being late to things.”

“Well, if someone would change her work schedule, then I’d be able to work nights again. And sleep to my heart's content.”

“Sigh, poor Rex.” You draw out. “I’m afraid no clinic would ever close at two in the morning like your bar does. Plus, you’re working late tonight as is. Don’t push it.”

“That’s just because Davey called in sick.” He defends lightly, before continuing with, “I still think you should come work with me.” He glances at you, out of the corner of his eye, judging to see if you’ll have a different reaction than you always do.

“If we spent every single second of every single day together, Rex, we’d never stop fighting.”

“I don’t mind fighting when it’s with you.”

“I’m gonna gag.” 

“Oh, come on! That was sweet!”

“It was sickening. Try again.”

“Ugh, fine.”

From what you can tell, Rex has no real plan, like you suspected. He turns at random, glancing down at his phone routinely, while talking about whatever new problem he’s run into as a bar owner. Which even after months and months since the initial opening, he’s still finding out is much more work than he originally bargained for. You’ve never seen him happier. Every complaint is accompanied by a small glint in his eye. He spends time learning his customers by name and asks about their lives. Sometimes you wonder if he’s living vicariously through them, absorbing all the mundanity of life he’d been missing out on until recently.

Eventually you find yourself at a park. If you could call it that. It spans a little larger than your living room, with two trees planted toward the entrance and the other end. A squirrel skitters up one of the aforementioned trees as you get closer. It would take less than six or so strides to cross the whole expanse.

“This can’t be right…” Rex mutters, looking back down at his phone again. The heat has returned to being unbearable, and Rex’s hand has been getting more and more sweaty since the first mistaken turn. He finally frees you to look at his phone closer, and you take the chance to check your own. Ten minutes left of your break. You needed to start walking back. 

“I swear to god, I thought it was nicer.” 

“No, no. It’s very nice. This way I won’t get lost.” You step forward onto the grass, appreciating the few degrees difference under the shade. 

“Haha, very funny.” 

You glance around again. What exactly was he hoping for? A car passes by with exceedingly blaring music. A crow squawks at another smaller bird at a nearby trash can. A woman walks by while talking loudly on the phone. Rex looks absolutely crestfallen. You aren’t sure why, but you start to laugh. It bubbles in your chest, leaking out in small huffs until you’re folded over yourself, gasping for air.

“Alright, it’s not that bad.”

“It’s ridiculous!” Your stomach was starting to hurt. “What was the plan?”

“I—” Rex’s cheeks warm a shade darker as he takes it in. “I don’t know, I just needed to do something.”

“And this was what you chose?” You positively cackle at that, words catching in your throat.

“I thought it was a little nicer…” He said defensively, a small smile threatening to break his offended charade. “But I guess it’ll work as good as anywhere.” He moves forward to stand right in front of you. 

You’re still hardly able to stand straight, laughter curling you inward in a way that only stops when you hear Rex say your name. Wiping the corners of your eyes, you stand straighter. “What?”

“Uh—” He looks oddly nervous. Had he looked like that the whole walk over? He wipes his hands on his pants, suddenly not able to meet your eyes. They flicker over the surrounding area, taking it all in again. “Shit, this is awful.”

“A little.” You giggle.

“I just…” He clears his throat, while shifting in place. His mouth opens a few times, then closes again. “I’ve been—”

Your phone rings, cutting him off. “Sorry, hold on.” You answer, stepping a foot back. You respond to the secretary's question, telling her you’ll be back in a few minutes to deal with a particularly difficult client. When the exchange ends, you turn back to see Rex staring off at one of the trees at the end of the lot, his jaw flexing. 

“Sorry, hun. Can you walk and talk? My break ends in like five minutes and they need me back anyways.” You tap the side of your phone against your palm, while squinting up at him. The sun peaking through the leaves above you just enough to make it hard to see. 

“Yeah.” He says hesitantly, and when your brows start to pull together he seems to shake himself out of whatever he was thinking about. “Yeah. No, let's go.”

He then proceeds to stay dead silent. The whole walk. Even when you try to crack through the sudden shell, he just laughs. Even if you were asking him a question. It’s weird. He hasn’t tried to take your hand again, which you’re glad for, but you also find additionally odd. He can never seem to go this long without some form of physical contact…

The front of your clinic comes into view and he’s still said nothing distinguishable. The door is only a few feet away now, and you’re a few minutes late as it is. Turning to face him, you give him an awkward shrug. “Well…that was all distinctly weird.”

“Yeah…” He rubs his arm, glancing to the side. 

“Again, not really a surprise, but I appreciate the effort.” You couldn’t hold back the tease, which seems to make him only feel worse. His brows lift in a way that could only be described as pathetic, his lips trying and failing to curl into a smile. 

“Yeah…sorry.”

You’re hesitating now. Was he alright? “Rex? Is there something going on?”

He straightens out, placing his hands against his hips, his eyes still following the traffic passing by on the road. “Yeah, kind of.” He lifts one hand to rub that back of his neck. “I was kinda gonna ask you to marry me.” 

Your eyes widen.

“This is like my fourth time trying too.”

You blink, voice coming out small. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles out sourly. “I’m really bad at this.”

You’d expected time to slow, the realization to hit like a bus, but it doesn’t. The cars on the road still pass by a few miles over the limit, the sun still beats down on you, life still keeps moving. The shock at his unceremoniousness feels worse than you thought it would be if it was a whole big thing. He’s talking with the same candor as if he’d just told you he’ll regrettably be home late. You feel like you’re being tricked. He didn’t really just ask you to marry him, did he?

“You want to marry me?”

“Well, yeah.” He says it with a scoff, a brow raised at you like you’re the ridiculous one here. 

“And you were going to ask me at that tiny park?”

“Uhm…” He draws out, squinting at you. “Technically I asked you a few days ago at the apartment. I was just going to remind you.”

“At the apartment?” You tried to think back. Nope nothing rang a bell.

“You said something about Kate and Immortal’s marriage not lasting, and I said that we could probably last longer than them.” 

You stared at him. “What?”

He does a half shrug thing, one hand still on his hip while the other is plastered to the back of his neck. 

“That’s…That’s not a proposal, Rex!” You groan, pressing a hand to your brow. “That’s just—” How do you even begin to explain this to him? You run your hands through your hair, turning in a semi-circle before finally fully clicks. The bus of bricks shifting into gear and slamming into you full force. 

Rex just proposed.

You slowly turn back, your hands pulling down to obstruct your eyes until you can only see him through the slit of your pointer and middle finger. “You’re proposing?”

He opens his mouth, looking like he might say something snarky, before he flushes and just silently nods. 

“You want to marry me?”

“Yes.” He says definitively.

“You’ve got a ring?”

He nods again, then pats his pockets before slowly looking up at you with a sheepish expression. “That I forgot.” 

“Ah.” What more had you expected? The thought is clouded over before you can even finish it. There’s a ring. Albeit not here, but still. 

Rex stares at you a heartbeat longer before jolting a step back. “Wait! Don’t respond now!”

“What?” Your voice cracks as your hands fall from your face, landing limply at your sides. 

“I’ve got to restart!”

You’re left speechless as he starts to back up in a half jog. 

“Meet me at that stupid park tonight after closing!”

“What, at two a.m.?” You shout out after him.

“Yeah!” 

“Rex— What?” 

And, he’s gone. And you, are exceedingly late returning to work.

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

The rest of the work day passed by as if you were witnessing it through a fog. When you got off, the first thing you did was call Rae, who responded to your story with shrieking laughter. Even then, there was still an aspect of it that didn’t feel real. This wasn’t exactly a fairytale proposal, but then again, when had anything between you both been like a fairytale?

In truth, you were more than ecstatic at the possibility of marrying Rex. It’d come up more than once in brief conversations. These usually manifested in jokes from Rex regarding his bar and how much the taxes for the property were eating him alive and how an opportune marriage would help on that front. You weren’t even sure if that was true. 

When the prospect of marriage was first mentioned, it’d been over a lazy breakfast. One you’d made without notice on a random weekend. Rex was still working every shift at the bar back then, sleeping almost every second he was home. He’d only been home and asleep for three hours when you’d be getting up for work in the mornings. It had been an awkward inbetween period. You both missed each other, but just couldn’t sync up again. It was a necessary evil to get things off the ground. But at this point you’d both been questioning if it was worth it. 

Rex had appeared as though summoned over your shoulder, his chin curling over the crook of your neck and his weight resting against you as he watched the food simmer in the pan. He murmured something to the tune of ‘good morning’ mixed with ‘I’m so tired, I think I might be dying’. Which you found ironic with how not too long ago he was a fully fledged superhero. Somehow the hardest battle he’s had to overcome is getting up when the alarm rings the first time. 

A valiant effort on his end. 

“I can open the bar today if you want to sleep in.” You’d murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then using your free hand to smooth out his hair a little. You weren’t sure his eyes had opened once since he settled in, and they definitely weren’t opening now.

“It’s your weekend.” He slurred.

“I know.” 

“It’s not your responsibility.”

“I’m glad that you’re now the posterboy for responsibility.” 

He hummed, a pleasant smile curving his lips. “It’s weird, right?”

“Super weird.” 

A hush fell over you both, comfortable and warm. His body heat had been effective in chasing away the chill of your apartment. A warm blanket draped over your back. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling himself impossibly closer, before sighing with relief as your powers began to take effect. He still complained they didn’t work to reset his need for sleep. But he never complained with malice. More a harmless whine while he relaxed under your touch. He did the same now, all the soreness and aches leaving him for the time being and replaced with a warm buzz he never let you forget about.

“You know,” He’d started, then trailed off, his breathing becoming shallower. 

There was no way he was falling asleep while standing up leaning against you. Right?

“Yes?” You’d urged.

“I used to think that getting married was just like…a dumb government thing.”

You hummed, trying and failing to follow his thought process.

“I used to imagine that Cecil had to officiate every wedding. ‘Cause when I was young he was like the face of the government for me.”

“That’s a horrifying thought.” You tried to imagine Cecil officiating any wedding, the participants as faceless blobs, and even then it was impossible. 

Rex murmured in agreement, somehow sinking farther into you. Much longer like this and your back was going to start aching. “I wouldn’t mind marrying you though. Even if it was Cecil as the priest or whatever.”

You’d let out a snort, and he’d slipped into no man’s land between awake and asleep. The warmth the idea had given you stuck around the rest of the day. 

Now, as you stood at the front door of your apartment, your eyes trailing over the entrance of the kitchen, it felt even more unreal. Less than two years ago, you hadn’t been sure you’d survive yourself, let alone a real mission. And now you were day dreaming about getting married. The closer you got to two a.m., the more antsy you got. Which internally you found a bit ridiculous, since you already knew what was going to happen. By the time it was one-thirty, you were already out the door. You parked in front of Rex’s bar, and sat. It was a busy night. Something you were glad to see on his behalf, but something you were only more put out by on your behalf. The more people there were, the longer it would take for him to close up. 

The orange neon of his sign reflected off the hood of your car, leaving streaks up to the windshield. It blinked every eight seconds. By the time you realized you were keeping count, you finally forced yourself to get out of your car. The walk between his bar and that sketchy piece of land was much shorter now that you knew where you were going. Two lamps illuminated the small area in the night. One on each corner that was facing the street. 

You stepped off of the sidewalk onto coarse earth, walking aimlessly while you waited. The other end, only a yard or three wide, gave way to a small walkway. Brick road encroached on by metal railing that protected the passers from the river down below. You leaned against the railing, staring down into the black. You couldn’t see the ripples from here. Couldn’t hear the roaring rush of water. It looked like ink, night black sludge dimly reflecting the lights of the city above. 

The temperature was perfect now, as opposed to earlier. A few warm breezes brushing over your arms and through your hair. No one was around, most likely due to the time of night. It was odd to consider now, how you could be downtown, outside, in the middle of the night, all alone, and feel nothing. No nerves gnawing at your subconscious, or stares lingering too long in a dark alley way. You could just be. No one could sneak up on you without you feeling them first, and you’d be able to bring them down nearly as fast. 

The knowledge did nothing to fend off the nightmares. Those never left. Not fully. Sometimes they were about night guards, other times about loss that had never come to pass. Rex or Rae on gurneys, new ReAnimen for you to play with. Cecil, Donald, Zandale, it didn’t matter what variation, what faces, or how long between nightmares. They never failed to return. Rex was the same. You weren’t surprised by that. He had much more time as a hero than you had. He’d done far worse things. You didn’t cry anymore. And he never had. Sometimes you wish he would, but he’d rather intertwine with you. Silent, steady. 

Sometimes he’d talk about his dreams. Sometimes he wouldn’t. The ones he did talk about made you wonder how horrific the ones he didn’t must be. You stopped talking about your’s too one day. Not because you were hiding them from him, or because you didn’t want to burden him with them. But rather because, quite suddenly, they ceased to matter. When you woke up, you were surrounded by your apartment walls, instead of those of a hospital, or The Guardian’s HQ. There was no dull hum of fluorescent, or distant beeps from an EKG. There was quiet. And warmth. On summer nights like this, almost too much warmth, thanks to tanned caramel skin, and auburn hair. 

Rex was more than happy to blame Cecil for your nightmares, as well as any unnamable ailment you experienced. But, the further you’d distanced yourself from your days as a Guardian, the more you could appreciate him. He’d come through when you needed it. More than once. And he was the reason you had Rex now. In more than one way. 

Once a month, you both received mystery stipends. Always without a routing number and without a name. Which to you, felt like a signature of its own. The salaries and savings that you and Rex had received from the Guardian’s was enough to live off of, job free, for several years. Which Rex had originally thought of as a score, and then realized very quickly one sure thing; life not as a superhero was boring. The first few days of him “relaxing” had somehow been the most strain your relationship had ever had to date. At the first mention of him opening a bar you’d jumped at it, pushing him to do something that he wanted. Not something he’d been groomed into, or did just because he thought it was all he could do.

“I don’t know anything about running a business.” He’d retorted, looked at you like you were insane. 

“Then take some classes.”

“You really think I could pass a class?” His eyebrows had dropped, giving you a ‘bullshit’ look.

“Then hire someone to do the business stuff.”

“Do you know how hard it is to keep a bar in business? It’s not exactly an untapped market.” 

You’d stretched, taping an index finger against your lips, one hand continuing to comb through his hair. “Do you know how hard it is?”

“No! Exactly why it would fail.” He turned his head in your lap, facing out and closing his eyes again.

“Well, then fail.” You’d shrugged, taking your fingers from his hair and trailing them down the side of his face to grasp his chin and turn him back toward you. “But you’ve got to try first.”

“I liked it better when failing meant dying.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short. You’ve failed plenty and somehow you seem just fine to me.”

The memory brings a smile to your face. You’d figured back then that eventually your time together would stop feeling borrowed. It felt to you as though you weren’t meant to survive your encounter with the variant. Rex felt it too. You wondered how many of his dreams were just that. How often he’d sat up at night or in the afternoons before his nightshifts, gasping for air while searching for you. 

That was the real difficulty back when your sleep schedules didn’t line up. It’d taken you almost a week to pull out of him why he was refusing to go to bed after his shifts. He’d gone long periods without sleep as a hero, but this had gotten to be beyond just a health concern. You’d argued he couldn’t be as sleep deprived as he was around new customers if he wanted to retain them. And he’d shot back that he was fine, in that overly sassy tone. Then you’d grabbed his hand, and pulled him to the bed, while he murmured about you being late to your own job. He’d molded to you, settling on top of you like a weighted blanket that wasn’t within proper regulations. The moment you’d put your hand to the back of his neck, he melted. It almost felt too easy, like manipulation. Your powers turned him to goo, relaxed and pain free. Even now, he never took that for granted. He never demanded it, or expected it. Even if you did offer it freely anytime he had direct contact with you. 

Quietly, a hushed murmur against the plush of your shoulder, he’d admitted that he didn’t know how to sleep without you anymore. He woke from night terrors, the warmth of your blood still a ghosting linger on his hands, without you there. No matter how short lived the initial panic was, it was still more than he liked. So, he staved it away by staying awake. The less sleep he had, the more it felt like his duty. Like he was tasked with watching over you. A talkative, sleep-deprived knight. 

You’d told him to start hiring for the night shift. 

He didn’t need convincing. 

He was near now. His pulse works as a signature, alerting you with every step. There’s a dull hum, followed by a crisp swoosh of something soaring up above you. The river’s depths illuminate with dancing lights. A firework crackles through the quiet night air, splitting the atmosphere into tangerine and saffron flecked sparks. When those sizzle into smoke, two more go off to ignite the stars. Malachite and venetian red. When they both faded, it felt as though the stars shone brighter. A firework might try all it may, but it will never truly be a constellation. 

Rex settled in next to you, leaning on crossed arms that brushed against yours while he looked down at the same waters you had been. He smelt like aftershave and dish detergent. The second, an aspect of the bar he never seemed to be able to fully wash away. 

“I always forget you can do that.”

“It wouldn’t have the same effect if I did it all the time, would it?”

“I suppose not.” You concede, turning so that your elbows are propped on the railing and you’re looking toward the trees behind you. In the dark, the little wooded area didn’t look quite as comically small. “You know, it’s kinda growing on me.”

“Seems to be a theme when it comes to you and me.” 

Cheesy. You let your head roll to your left as Rex straightens out his arms, putting most of his weight on his palms. His expression is tranquil now. The nerves and awkwardness of earlier in the day now completely vacant. 

“Listen.” His gaze travels from your elbows’ point of contact with the barricade, up your shoulder, to your face. “I know I’m not very good at this, and I know there are still thousands of ways for me to improve. But, I guess my point is, it doesn’t feel impossible anymore. Not with you.” He shifts, looking back to the river. “I planned on dying in that suit. For over a decade that was the only possible ending for me. I’m not the kind of guy who gets the happy ending, or the girl, or…” He hesitates, choosing his words. “Or to leave. I’ve lived and led a miserable life, and that was just the way things were. And then you showed up, and I treated you like I treated everyone.” 

Now would usually be the time you interjected a ‘shitty?’, but you decided not to interrupt. 

He takes a breath. “I can’t pinpoint when I fell in love with you, and maybe that means that underneath all of this I’m still at my core a piece of shit. But, I know that I love you. And as selfish as I know that I am, I want to be selfish with you. I want to be with you constantly, and I want you to be mine in the same way that I’ve been yours. I guess I don’t really care if that’s in the form of a marriage or a ring, or whatever other bullshit. I’d take your word if it’s all you’d ever give me.” He angles his head back toward you, lifting his arm furthest from you to run his knuckles over your own arm. His eyes followed the movement. “I don’t know how to be like you. It doesn't come naturally to me to go grocery shopping, or plan vacations, or to just… be normal. But you’ve helped me to see it’s a possibility. Even if it’s not going to be today or tomorrow.” He pushes back from the railing, sidestepping so that he’s in front of you. “Anyways.” He’s holding a tattered box in his fingers. The edges crushed in from how hard he must have been gripping it. “I looked it up, and I know I’m supposed to get on one knee or some shit, but honestly I thought that looked a little stupid.” 

You can’t help the scoff that escapes your throat. Less at his refusal and more at the image of him helplessly googling how to propose just to recoil at the customs. 

A small smirk plays across his lips as he lowers his inflection by a tone. “I save getting on my knees for other moments.”

God. Leave it to him to somehow make a proposal perverse. 

“Honestly, I didn’t plan this far ahead.” He let you take the box. “And you’re being uncharacteristically quiet, which is scaring the shit out of me a bit. So, I guess, yeah. Will you?” 

“Will I?” You can’t help but giggle, opening the box to look at the contents. It’s by no means the most glamorous ring that you’ve ever seen. It’s a thinner band, with one main stone, three smaller on each side, inlaid into the metal. The stone is your favorite color rather than a traditional diamond. Which in all honesty, you find as more sweet than anything else. Knowing him, he’d probably scoffed at the idea of a diamond or something more classical, thinking it was boring. 

“You know. Will you marry me?” 

You take your eyes from the ring to meet his gaze again. He’s already wincing. All prior bravado lost throughout the duration of his speech. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He brightens up immediately at your words, his eyes widening in surprise, even though you couldn’t imagine ever answering another way. 

“Yes, Rex. Of course I’ll marry you.” Your giggle was muffled by Rex surging forward. His left arm cages you against the guardrail while his other hand snaked up your neck to your jaw. The kiss was electric, his excitement just beneath the surface just as contagious. His lips left your mouth after only a few moments, returning to pepper around your face until you were cowering away, unable to stop the laughter from leaving you at his persistence. When he finally stopped, letting you face him straight on again, you felt like you were on another planet. “I—” He kissed you again. “Rex—” He pecked. “Come on—” Another one to the corner of your mouth. Finally you brought up your free hand to hold him back, splaying over the lower half of his face. You raise your brows at him, as if asking ‘are you done?’. When he doesn’t push against you again, you finally speak, leaving your hand as a barrier. “Thank you for asking.” Much gentler you lean forward, pressing your lips to the back of your own hand, mimicking a kiss. 

When you lean back again, the green of his eyes is hardly visible, overtaken by the black of his pupils. His own hand tails up your arm, pulling it down just enough so that he can speak. “Thank you for saying yes.” 

From the look on his face, and the pace of his pulse, you figure it’s about time to head back to the apartment. Besides…

“We should go though, someone will have definitely called the cops about those fireworks.”

“It was nice though, right?” 

“It was really nice. I loved it.”

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

“Fuck.”

“Stop freaking out.”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“You’re fine, it’ll take like twenty minutes tops.”

“I’m not freaking out!” 

“If you’re having second thoughts, we could always run away together. Elope, grow a garden, get some cats.”

“Ugh. Yeah, let's just do that.” You doubled over trying to regulate your breathing. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you wanted this. Hell, you were beyond excited for this. But even still, you couldn’t help a shortness of breath. It didn’t feel real. This was too good. You wanted it too badly. 

“I could have a car here to pick us up in twenty.” 

“But I have to walk out in like ten!”

Rae tsked. “Damn. Then I guess you just have to go through with it.” 

You groaned, sinking down closer to the floor. 

“Come on, there’s hardly anyone here. It’s just you, me, the officiant, like twenty other people—”

“Not a lot, my ass!”

“—and that one asshole who attached himself to you like velcro a few years ago.”

“Stop making it sound so sexy.” Your response dripped with sarcasm as you stood up straight again. Grimacing, you tilted forward, catching yourself on the edge of the sink. Your reflection felt too serious. Too unreal. 

“That’s not possible. Every word in every language sounds like that when I speak it.” 

You groan again, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Should I get Zandale?”

“No!” You choked, just as a knock thudded against the door. 

“Are you guys okay?”

“Zandale! Just who we wanted to see!” She’s already moving to open the door to the small bathroom that the two of you are wedged inside of.

He stands motionless outside the door while Rae pulls it wide open, putting a hand to her hip and standing back as a clear invitation for him to enter. Which he doesn’t take. “I don’t need to get involved with whatever bull is going on in here, I’m just telling you that you’ve got five minutes.” You could swear the suit he’s wearing is the exact same one he’d worn to the gala. Not that you were judging. A nice suit is a nice suit.

Rae jabs a thumb over her shoulder at you. “She’s freaking out.”

“I would be too if I was marrying that dick.”

“That’s a little unfair—” You start, stepping over to where Rae was.

“Hey! We agreed no shit talking until after the reception.” Rae hissed, a little too seriously for it to have been just a snarky tease. 

“Do you guys really still dislike him that much?” They are both laughably bad at calming your nerves to any extent.

Zandale shrugs. “Nah, but you can’t let him know that or it’ll go straight to his head. Plus, if he feels any less guilty I might not get free drinks anymore at the bar.”

“He’s joking.” Rae glares at him, turning back to you while adjusting her glasses. “Everyone knows Rex is a lot better, or I wouldn’t be letting you marry him. But that’s not the point. He’s out there already, you’re the one holding everything up. Why?”

You suck in a shaky breath. “It’s just a big change, I guess.”

“Bigger than becoming a Guardian and leaving the Guardians, and then joining again a day later, just to leave again?”

“Technically I wasn’t fully a Guardian when I first started—”

“Now is not the time to discuss technicalities! You guys already live together, what’s really changing?”

“Not much when you put it like that. And I love him more than anything, I don’t even know why this is—” You stumble over your words, trying to rationalize your nerves. Zandale and Rae look less and less impressed. 

“Get out there!” Rae pulls you by the shoulders, forcing you out of the bathroom. 

“Okay, Okay!” You brushed her off, stopping a few feet outside of the bathroom to take a more regulated breath. The world wasn’t ending. Nothing was going wrong. You were fine. And the man you love is waiting for you. 

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

The ceremony itself passed as quickly as Rae had said it would. It was a blur of rituals you had chosen rather than Rex. He could care less how the ceremony itself went, as long as at the end of it, you were married. Any nerves you’d had beforehand were quelled once you saw him. He looked as good in a suit as you remembered. 

The reception was set to be held at a smaller venue. Three sides of the area were walled in while the fourth along the west side was open. It was propped up by support columns with intricate buttresses, those of which were laden with vines. The outside area had a small stone patio that spanned about eight feet from the inside of the venue, and gave way to plush grass. There were several seating areas in the grass for people to spread out to as the night moved on; some outdoor dining tables, some cocktail tables, and several benches. Further off into the grass and trees laid a small oak gazebo. 

Inside of the venue was much more crowded. There were rows of tables with settings for every guest that had RSVP’d, as well as some spare settings just in case, and a special head table that the planner had recommended for just you and Rex to have. 

Over the course of the whole reception, you don’t think you sat there once. 

An open bar laid to the back of the large expanse of area, and tables with foods lined the sides. You’d both decided against having servers initially for money—even though neither of you were hurting—and then because you simply were too exhausted to deal with more hands in the wedding. 

After very little deliberation, you’d both decided to only invite people that one or both of you actually cared about. Meaning that some of the Guardians were invited, but not all. Rudy, who both you and Rex couldn’t define your feelings toward, was surprisingly in attendance as Amanda’s plus one. Which you’d both figured there was a fifty-fifty chance of. Shapesmith was also in attendance, thankfully not in full uniform. He seemed set on introducing himself to every single guest, even to you and Rex. Upon reaching the two of you he’d given you the fakest sounding name you’d ever heard, then winked in an exaggerated fashion while leaning forward with a hand cupping his mouth. “It’s me! The Shapesmith!” 

You’d laughed. 

Rex’s brows had tightened, nose wrinkling. “How did you even get on the guest list?”

Of course Rae and Zandale were also in attendance. You’d bargain your own money that they’d bet each other on who could drink the most alcohol from your open bar. By their mutual fifth drink, Rex had threatened to send them the bill. You’d invited Donald too, but heard no word back. He hadn’t attended the ceremony, which came as little surprise to you. Who knows what kaiju he was keeping Cecil updated on now. 

Cecil had been a more difficult story. You hadn’t invited him. It felt weird, the idea that he might somehow show. You knew he wouldn’t, but still, it weighed like an uneasy stone. You knew he was bound to be keeping tabs. And with that, you figured he knew that you knew. As backward and roundabout that all sounded. Still, even after the first hour of the reception passed, a tiny voice in the back of your head wondered if he’d show. And maybe even hoped. 

There were a few of Rex’s regulars at the bar, and some coworkers from your clinic. And the rest of the seating was made up by miscellaneous people from your lives, family members from your side, people Rex hadn’t completely burned bridges with in the past from his. It goes without saying, there were far more people from your side. 

You’d hardly had a second to talk to Rex in public, let alone private. People you hadn’t seen in ages pulled you this way and that, while Rex got questioned by your relatives who hadn’t known he existed until the wedding announcement. A few times you caught his eye and he’d given you a nervous smile that screamed; ‘HELP ME!’, but you weren’t fairing much better yourself. 

“You looked like you needed a drink.” Zandale plops a glass into your hand, leaning against the back of a chair. 

“Mhm.” You hummed suspiciously, eyeing the beer in his own grasp. “And you definitely didn’t grab me one just so you could get away with grabbing yourself another one, right?”

“You wound me.” Zandale puts a hand to his chest in mock injury. 

“Yeah, sure.” Your eyes flit over the crowd, the—quite a large crowd now. “Wait a second,” You twist, following someone who walked by with your gaze. “Who…?” You turn forward toward Zandale again, scanning over the area. There’s far too many people here. Every seat is filled and then some. “Who are all these people?”

Zandale shrugs. “I dunno, you invited them.”

“I’ve seen at least five or six people now that I’ve never seen in my life.” You admit, narrowing your eyes on another who’s standing and chatting a few feet away. 

Rex seems to have finally escaped some incessant questioning and for the first time all night steps in beside you. He murmurs a greeting, pecking a kiss to your cheek before grabbing the beer from Zandale’s grasp and nearly downing it in one go. 

“Tough crowd?” Zandale chuckles. 

“You have no fuckin’ clue.”

“Rex, who’s that?” You gesture to the person a few feet away in front of you, not moving your eyes off of him once. 

“Uh, I don’t know.” His brow creases gently as he turns toward you.

“How do we both not know who these people are? It’s our reception.” Another unknown face walks past you, shifting quickly, you call out to them. “Excuse me, this might be weird but…who are you?”

A man, probably in his forties or fifties turns back, a glass of wine pinched between his fingers. He introduces himself immediately, offering you both congratulations. 

This clears absolutely nothing. 

“How did you get here?” You shake your head, rephrasing. “Why are you here?” 

The man gestures to Rex. “He invited me.”

You glance at Rex who looks flabbergasted.

“I did?”

“Yeah.” The man laughs. “We talked at the grocery store once, and you started talking about your wedding and then you told me to come. I thought it was kinda weird but I’d never turn down a celebration!” Without another word, he salutes you both with the glass and heads on his way.

When you turn back to Rex, he’s covering the lower half of his face with a hand, his thumb pressed into the space below his left cheek bone, and his pointer finger resting at the corner of his right eye. His eyes don’t immediately meet yours, lingering on the ground and then jerking upward to meet you. Zandale is nothing short of cracking up. 

“What?”

“Okay, so I think I know where all these people came from.” He admits slowly, words muffled under his palm.

“Rex.” You try to sigh it out, but any hint of exasperation is overtaken by a laugh. The situation was exceedingly humorous to you at least. “Did you seriously invite strangers to our wedding reception?”

“It’s starting to ring a bell.” He winces.

“How many?”

“Uh, I didn’t keep track, really.”

“What?” You snort.

“I figured most of them wouldn’t show, and if people did show it would bulk up the celebration, you know!”

“That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.” Zandale cracks out, still laughing almost attention grabbingly loud. 

“There’s no way we have enough food for these people.” You looked out at the tables, stifling a few more chuckles.

“Eh, it’ll be fine.” He follows your gaze, giving himself a small nod as though just that would solve the problem.

You chugged the glass in your hand, finally able to suppress the laughter bubbling up. Handing the empty glass back to Zandale, you nudge Rex. “You’ve got to ask Eve.”

Rex nods like a soldier about to head off into war. “Okay. But if you see another member of your family head towards me, could you please intercept or something?”

“I will do my best.” You nod stoically, fighting the urge to give him a salute as he goes. 

Eve was exceedingly gracious and helped whip up some food last minute. When you’d got the chance you’d whispered a thank you to her, which she graciously brushed off and told you it was “No problem at all.”

There had been no official start of dinner, eventually people began to serve themselves while you and Rex still made your rounds. You were taking a break, sitting at Rae’s table while shoving your face when the ding of a metal utensil against glass quiets most of the room down. Glancing around, you search for the source, only to find the culprit to be Zandale. His eyes flit over the crowd, lingering on you for a moment before he holds his hands out and begins.

“Since none of you pussies will start the speeches, I guess it falls onto my shoulders.”

“Oh my god, is he wasted?” You turn to Rae and she snickers with a shake of her head.

“Not wasted enough for this.” 

“I hardly know any of you, and for that I’m grateful, because the people I do know; I most of the time wish I didn’t. Here’s to the beautiful bride, and the…uh, something-something groom.” Zandale turns around, searching the tables. “Where is he…? Ah. There he is.” He waves an arm to Rex where he’s standing at the other end of the room from you. “Rex Sloane. Sloane, right?”

Rex doesn’t nod or give any semblance of him listening besides the smirk plastered on his face. 

“Sloane. Kind of normal, more normal than I would have guessed. Rex though is rough, that’s always been such a bullshit name, you should look into getting that changed.”

“Move it along!” Rae shouted over your shoulder, causing you to flinch slightly. 

“I’m getting to it! Sheesh!” Zandale took a swig of his drink, zeroing back in onto Rex. “I give you both five months, and if I’m wrong then I figure you guys will be together forever or some stupid sappy shit like that. Either way, what fun, right? There will always be good drinks and no ailments, sounds like a damn good five months. I hope you two enjoy it.” Zandale holds the glass up toward you, inclining his head before sitting back down. 

“Well, wasn’t that just heart warming?” Rae snorts, nudging you with her shoulder.

“I’ve got tears in my eyes.” You snicker back, then turn back to Zandale and offer him a nod of your own, which seems to leave him satisfied. Luckily no one seems to linger long on the attention to Rex’s last name, or the comment about no ailments.

Once the flood gates are opened everyone and their mother takes it upon themselves to give some form of spoken praise to you and/or Rex. Mostly to you. Anyone from your family that speaks is always forced to add on a “And I don’t know the groom very well, but he must be worth something if she chose him.” Eventually you start to feel a little bad. This was his wedding just as much as yours and there was no way this was all just bouncing off of him. Rudy had been the only person so far to stand up and only mention Rex, but he’d started with; “Amanda said I should stand and say a few words since I’ve known you almost the longest out of anyone here.” So, anything he said after that felt much less touching. To wrap up the speeches was no one other than Shapesmith, who stood, tapped his glass and then announced; “It is fun to do that! Let me do it again!” And proceeded to clang against the glass multiple times before Zandale got him to sit down. 

By this point the music has started, something soft and rhythmic. The party playlist queued to start after a few slower songs so that those who wanted to slow dance could. Groups made their way to the patio area, forming into small groups that swayed and spun. 

You made a comment to Rae about finding Rex. She nodded, only half listening while fully engrossed in one of the bizarre stories of a regular at Rex’s bar. It wasn’t too hard to spot his auburn locks over the crowd, the difficulty lied in actually reaching him. Every few steps you were stopped by a guest making some comment or another, before you finally almost made it to him, just to be stopped again. You were close enough that you could just barely make out the conversation he was having with a family member of yours that you weren’t very close with. 

“Surely it can’t be that bad.” They chided, urging him to say whatever he was about to.

“Uh, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck, searching the room around him, but not turning enough to see you. When he didn’t spot you his shoulders slouched, resignation entering his tone. “I mean it’s kind of funny, I showed up at her door drunk—I mean not drunk-drunk! Like moderately tipsy—Vaguely!” He’s talking fast, discomfort filling his tone. “We’d fought, or had a disagreement about…something. But, basically after that—Well, huh…” He scratches his hairline near his temple. Maybe you should have figured up some fake stories that didn’t reveal any secret identities prior to the wedding. 

“I’m sorry, please excuse me.” You murmur to the person who had pulled you aside. You hadn’t been listening to what they were saying regardless. 

In a few quick strides, you reach Rex and slide your hand over his arm. He tenses at first, then relaxes when he realizes it’s you, his brows pinching upward. 

“Sorry, I haven’t got to see my husband all day, I must steal him away.” You tell the family member, pulling Rex away before they could reply. 

“Thank you.” Rex murmurs from behind you, sounding almost heart wrenchingly genuine. 

“Follow me.” You weave through the tables, stepping over bags and coats until you’re at the edge of the outdoor patio. The second dance has started. Luckily, for the first time all evening, it seems like everyone is pretty absorbed with themselves and their company. Rex is still following, not sure where you’re going but not outwardly voicing it. When you reach the edge of the patio, you slip off your heels, rubbing the ridges worn into your ankle. 

The wooded area is lit by lanterns, some are on poles near the benches and tables, others are hanging from the surrounding trees. A few people are scattered around, Amanda and Rudy have made their way to one of the benches, both nursing a beer that you were sure they must have had to ask Eve for. 

Pushing forward once again, you grab Rex’s hand, intertwining his fingers with yours to urge him on quicker. In less than a minute you reach the gazebo. The soft moist grass undertow turns to sleek waxed wood as you step up the first, then second stair. Even from here you can make out the gentle hum of the music, and the low hum of chatter. 

“I figured we could both use some quiet.”

“Damn right.” Rex sighs out, running a hand up through his bangs. 

You do a small spin, taking in the gazebo's interior. The ceiling of it is held up by wooden beams that form a spiral. Ivy or some other form of greenery has begun to take sprout on the railings, climbing up the supports toward the roof. Rex has hooked himself over the edge of the railing facing toward the venue, his arms folded beneath him. You step behind him, laying your body against his back, the apple of your cheek pressing between his shoulder blades. 

“I’m sorry my family is kind of being awful toward you.”

“It’s not that bad.” He grumbles. Such a bad liar. 

“I know it’s bad. I’m surprised you haven’t blown up on any of them yet.”

“I see what you did there. Blown up.” 

“You’re deflecting.” You hum. 

“You’re crazy.” He retorts. 

You sigh, sinking further into him while snaking your arms around his waist. “Thank you for being so amazing.”

“I’m really not.” 

“I think you are.”

“That’s a very unpopular opinion.”

“Mmm.” You murmur, turning your face to muffle against his back. “We should dance.”

“What was that?” He turns his head to look over his shoulder at you.

“Let's dance. It’s our wedding and I’ve hardly seen you.” 

“You that excited to return to the wolves?”

You push off of him, and take a few steps back. “No. Let’s do it here. By ourselves.” 

Rex slowly turns, his hands gripping the wood behind him. “We can go over there if you want. I was just being a dick.” 

“I want to be right here. With you, and only you.” You shake your head, holding out a hand. “Dance with me. Even though you don’t dance.” You can’t help but grin at his own words at the gala coming out of your mouth. He must have recognized them, because the worn exhaustion on his face gives way to that familiar cocky smirk. 

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“I’ve been told I have a kind of draw about me.” You relish in the feeling of his palm against yours as he slides his nondominant hand down to your waist. 

“Yeah? A kinda fuzzy feeling?” He takes the lead, still somewhat making it up as he goes, just like the first time. 

“You tell me.” You unbridle your powers, letting them seep between your fingertips. All the aches of a long day leaving him in an instant, and the aches of a much more difficult life time lightening. 

He hums, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of your neck. “Fuzzy isn’t the right word anymore.”

“No?”

“No.” He confirms. “It’s warm, addictive, and somehow undeniably you.” He nips at your neck just below your jaw. 

“I’m glad to have such a satisfied customer.” You smile, letting your hand at his shoulder run up the nape of his neck into his hair. The short velvet of it tickles your fingertips. 

“If you’d told me three years ago I’d be someone’s husband, I would have burst a damn blood vessel laughing.” He pulls you closer, stopping his sways to wrap you in a defensive hug. “Now I couldn’t imagine it any other way.”

“Even with the shitty speeches?”

“Those, we could have done without.” He finally admits. “I don’t think I’ll be invited to any family dinners anytime soon.”

“We’ll have more fun on our own.” You assure into his shoulder. 

“I don’t want you giving up what you want just because of me.”

“Ooh, how selfless of you.” You chuckle, unable to take the statement completely seriously.

“I’m serious.” He lets you go, taking a step back. “I don’t want you saying stuff like that, then five months from now, you realize it’s not actually that fun on our own.” 

You cock your head at him. “Five months? I figured we had at least six.”

“Be serious.” 

“Why?”

He sighs, taking a step back, obviously internally debating on what to say. Another difference between him and the man you’d initially met. He was so different. Softer, caring, hell, he was kind of mature now. You hadn’t needed to force him into changing, or hold his hand, he’d done it mostly by himself, even if he’d tripped a few times along the way. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to disagree. It’s just that all that seems so ridiculous to me.” You close the space between yourself and him, running your hands down the sides of his arms down to his hands. “I don’t care what they all think, or I would have introduced you much sooner. Although, maybe that would have solved some of the problems you’ve had to deal with tonight.” You pull him lower by his hands so that your faces are only a few inches apart. “I like being with you, alone or not. And to be honest, I was much more alone before you than I am now.” You peck his lips. “Plus, I think we’ll have enough dinners with Rae and Zandale to keep our hands occupied for the next few years as it is.”

“They are leeches.” He chuckles out, squeezing your fingers in his grip.

The music that had been gently filling the night air turns more rowdy, the slow dance songs officially complete. A quiet marker of how long you’d both managed to escape for. 

“I suppose we should head back.” You sigh out, glancing over Rex’s shoulder toward the commotion. 

He nods, deflating a little. Then he blinked slowly, in the way he always did when he was coming up with something. “What if we left?”

The idea was more than tempting. The rest of the night, just with you and your new husband? Away from uncomfortable questions and bad jokes? Also, you were exhausted. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nods.

“Okay.” 

His grin widens. “Okay. Then let's go.” He moves to exit the gazebo then freezes. “Oh, yeah.” You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he turns and kisses you. His right hand still woven with yours, and his left pressing to the side of your face. It’s quicker than you would have liked, but full of all the longing the night had left room for. He doesn’t let the moment linger, leading you back to the venue and then telling you he needed to grab a few things and to wait just a few minutes.

You grabbed a few of your own things starting with your shoes then let Rae know you were leaving as well as a few hurried goodbye’s to a few other people. While you were standing by one of the vacant tables, watching the people out on the patio dance, a voice perked up from behind you.

“It’s been a while.” 

You smiled to yourself before turning. “Too long in my opinion.”

“I tried to come a little earlier, but you know how it is.” Donald adjusted the teleport bracelet at his wrist, pushing it under his sleeve. 

“Too well.”

“Congratulations.” He gives you a kind smile, his glasses reflecting the lights above you. “You’ve got out and stayed out. That’s a very difficult thing to do.” 

“Well, being normal is never easy.”

“Being normal will never be a possibility for you. Or Rex.” His words are bitter against your ears, even if he hadn’t meant them that way. An unnecessary reminder for a day that was meant to be joyful and unifying. 

“We sure do a hell of a job pretending though.”

“That, you do.” 

“What have you been up to?” 

“Oh, this and that.” A quiet way of telling you that you no longer have any of the qualifications to know the true going ons anymore. The world could be seconds from being taken over by Viltrumite threats and you’d never know. 

“Sound’s busy.”

“Horribly.” 

You both hesitate. So much to say, but so little at the same time. “Would you like a plate? There’s plenty of food, and an open bar.”

“Ah. I can’t. I—” Donald tilts his head to the left, a move you registered immediately as him listening to an order over an earpiece. “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer, I’ve already overstayed.”

Sometimes, you felt a little sad that it was all over. Your time with The Guardians had been at the very least, always exciting. Donald was someone you missed most. He didn’t call. Which you knew he wouldn’t. What did you have to talk about anymore? It’s not like you ever just shot the shit anyways. You would both never exist in the same worlds again. Any connection shared was merely a relic of the past. You’d probably see him in the coming years, but only when Cecil sent him to try and convince you and Rex to help in whatever world ending threat was on its way. Surely, he is as aware of this as you are.

“Don’t be. We were just about to leave.” Shifting, you glance over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Rex heading your way, then turn back to Donald. “It really was good to see you.”

He ducks his head, taking a step back. “Cecil said to ask you if you’d rejoin The Guardians.” 

You shake your head laughing. “Tell him I said, love you too.” 

It felt very final, even if nothing ever seemed to really be final with your ties to the superhero world. It could have been an acceptance on your end, a last goodbye to a life you’d accepted living until your untimely death.

Rex reaches you just as Donald disappears into the foyer, a dim blue reflection is the only give away that he was now gone. 

“They got nothing to say to me?” He gestures with his head to the exit where Donald had vanished behind the wall. 

“I guess not.” You shrug, 

With his dress coat slung over his arm, and with your hand back where it belonged, slotted against his, you both followed in Donald’s trail. The foyer has a table right by the doors for anyone to drop off wedding gifts if they brought any. Some of them are elegantly wrapped, while other things are in the manufacturing box. It had already planned for everything to be brought to the apartment tomorrow, but one thing caught both of your eyes to the extent you both stopped in your tracks. 

“Is that…?”

The words die on your tongue, as Rex takes a step closer to read off of a brightly colored sticky note. That is attached to nothing other than a full suit of medieval armor. 

To my Merlin and Gawain. The door is always open if you decide you’d rather work private sector again.

“Did you send Mune an invite?” Rex glances back at you with furrowed brows while you hold up your hands in front of you.

“It didn’t even cross my mind. It feels like eons ago that I even met her.” There’s no signature on the note, but the gift in itself felt like a signature of its own. Cecil must have told her. Even back when you met her she knew far more than you thought she would. Why would that change now? “Do Merlin and Gawain end up married in the legend too?” You can’t help but giggle at the implication.

“Fuck if know.” Rex sighs out.

You both stare at it a few moments longer. The suit is a few inches taller than Rex. “That’s gonna make such a weird conversation piece in our apartment.” 

Rex makes a nondescript grumble, seemingly remembering that your original plan was to evacuate. Outside the venue a car was already waiting. Something you were very glad that Rex had thought of in the early stages of wedding planning. Powers or not, you were completely exhausted. The moment you hit the back seats, and the driver began to pull out, your eyes began to shut. 

˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗

Rex hadn’t expected you to fall asleep quite as fast as you had. He’d wondered, sure. For the past few hours or so. From afar, he’d seen that soft glazed look, the one you got when you were trying to look like you were listening but really you were thinking about anything else. Weeks of half formed explanations and reasonings that he’d planned to make to you when the car made the wrong turn on the way to your apartment, all made nil after two minutes. Your head resting against his shoulder, chest rising and falling gently with every shallow breath. He’d have been happy if the whole reception had just been this. No guests, no speeches, no on the spot lies about how you both had met. Just peace, and the light tingle of your powers still dimly passing through where his hand brushed yours. 

It was a constant in his life now. Every time you were within arms length you offered it freely. You joked every now and again about Rex being clingy, like velcro, but in all honestly, how could he not be? You embodied everything he’d never got the chance to have. Longing, family, identity, normalcy. All of it was possible because of you, and that was something that wasn’t lost on him. Every time that he was tempted to slip back into the comfort of mediocracy the realization would hit him over again like a bucket of icy cold water. Although, in truth, that temptation was never very strong. It was a hushed whisper when things got tough, a faux life line when it felt like too much too quickly. And then, life kept moving. 

Eve had joked to him at the wedding that she’d always hoped for the day that she’d see him as someone’s husband. It didn’t ring of the same bitterness as every other comment did from the people he didn’t know, because unlike them, Eve did know him. She knew him longer than anyone else there, and she’d had to deal with the brunt of his aggressions. It hadn’t felt like a thinly veiled slight, but rather a compliment of the highest regards. His effort and work had paid off. He wasn’t chained to being Rex Splode anymore, swallowed by regrets and aches that never went away. He’d gotten a chance at a new identity, and a new life. And if that identity was nothing more than being yours, it’d be far better than anything he’d ever had before. 

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

You were in and out of sleep for what felt like much longer than it should have. The drive from the venue to your apartment was about thirty minutes, forty-five if there was traffic. It’d felt like at least an hour had passed, and trees were still gliding by outside the window. The notion of inquiring about it to Rex crossed your mind, but drifted away just as easily as your eyes drooped and Rex leaned his head against yours. Dully through the thick haze of sleep, you registered him lifting you out of the car and carrying you inside. Your arms crossed behind his neck, the side of your head pressed to his chest. His heart beat was steady. Sometimes you missed how it used to race when you touched him, but this was probably better for his health as a whole.

Had you ever mentioned to him how cool it is to have a boyfriend—a husband, with super strength? You would be sure to tell him in the morning. He should know how much it made your heart swell. 

A husband with super strength. 

A husband.

Your husband.

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

The first thing that you register is a smell. Something you can’t quite make out. But it’s good. Maybe…eggs? Or…toast? Something breakfast-y. More hearty than syrupy sweet. The second thing you notice is the warmth of sunlight on your skin. The morning rays sifting through the window to your left, dancing across your skin. You were still in your outfit that you wore during the reception. It pinches you at the waist uncomfortably, the tag grazing against the back of your neck with each breath. Prickly. A soft breeze ruffles your hair. Rex must have opened the window—

The window to your left. 

Your apartment doesn’t have a window to the left. It would be on your right. 

You blink your eyes open, claws of unease sinking into your chest. Nothing is familiar. Rather than a window, there are two glass doors leading to a patio. Beyond that, there’s land. Lush green grass and trees, as far as your eyes could register. Pushing up, you take in the room. It’s furnished like any normal room, even though there seems to be a lot of intentionality. Everything works together harmoniously. Deep oak colored dressers beneath a vaulted wooden ceiling. The floor was wooden too, a dark cherry that was cool under the pads of your feet. Before you know it, you’re up and walking around. There’s a bathroom connected to the bedroom with grey stone tiles and colorful back splash. You could stand and inspect every detail, it all felt familiar, but you knew you’d never been here before. 

Exiting the room felt like entering a maze. Not because the space was vast, but because there was so much to look at. Traveling down the hall, you found two guest bedrooms, and another room that looked to be a potential office. Each room shared the same amount of attention to detail as the previous one. They each had their own themes but still meshed well. Finally you came across a dining room. It was big enough for a table that could easily sit fifteen, but the table that resided there was actually quite small. A simple square with normal chairs around it. Extremely out of place amongst the near grandeur of the high ceiling and chandelier that accompanied it. The only thing that outshone both of those additions by miles was a tank at the far wall next to a doorway. The tank spanned from the floor to the ceiling. The closer you approached the more you could make it out. Fish of all kinds varying from tiny to medium swam in schools, weaving between rocks and structures that were built inside. It divides the dining room from the next room, that you can tell upon analysis. And, from the shifting blur on the other side. A shape you can just hardly make out as human through the obscurity. 

Taking a breath, you enter through the doorway, a hand at your side just hardly outstretched. A precaution. 

“Oh, you’re up! Crap, that kind of messes things up.” Rex glances back at you, his form hunched over a pan on the stove. 

“Rex?” 

“I had this whole plan to try and bring you breakfast, but the first attempt I—Well, I’m not gonna lie, I definitely ate it. Crazy how weddings leave you starving, huh? I feel like I didn’t get to eat anything last night. Oh shit, maybe I didn’t now that I think about it.” Rex continues to muse on, his eyes glued to his work as if it will catch fire any second. 

You look around the kitchen, the infrastructure once again so familiar. “Where are we?” 

“Oh!” The rambling pauses and gives way to an electric giddyness. The feeling practically emanates from him in waves. “Uh…” He removes the pan from the heat, making a sweeping turn to follow what you’d been looking at. “It’s our…home?”

You scoff in disbelief. “Don’t sound so sure.”

He crosses the space to press a kiss to your forehead. “I mean if you hate it, it doesn’t have to be, but I hope you don’t.”

“How did—?”

“Ah, that’s a longer story. I’ve actually been working on it for a few months now. The most difficult part was coming out here when you wouldn’t suspect anything. I originally had to hire a crew to work on it. They finished the bulk of the structure, but it just wasn’t having quite the effect I would have liked.” He talks about it quickly, the words spilling out as he gestures to the room around you. “Eve recently finished a bunch of classes on architecture, or something like that, and she was able to help with all the details. Remember how I had all those magazines that I’d filled with sticky notes and tabs and shit? We were able to go room by room and see how it all worked together. Of course if you want to personalize anything you can too, Eve said to just call if you wanted anything different.” 

His words fade marginally as you step out of the kitchen into a conjoining living room area that has another sliding glass door. He follows you as you go, filling you in on how it’d almost been all for nothing when the electricity got messed up during one of the additions. Pulling the door up, you step out onto the porch. A large evergreen keeps a few lounge chairs shaded from the early morning sun near the far left railing. The air is still, pregnant with early morning birds, and the distant barks of dogs on other properties. 

“The outside was mostly all her too. Originally there had been no trees, and the lot was mostly filled with dead grass and overgrown blackberries.”

“So that’s what those scratches on your arms were?” You glanced back at him, remembering a month or so ago when he’d come home with a couple dozen thin scratches on his hands on forearms. “You said you were clearing out shrubs from behind the bar, I knew you were lying.” It’s less accusatory and more a self assurance, a reminder to yourself that you could in fact read him as easily as you thought. 

“Yes.” He admits with a near cheshire smile. “I honestly wish I had asked Eve for help earlier, she probably could have cleared it in seconds.” 

You pad across the wood slats approaching the steps and following them down. The grass is deliciously soft against your bare feet. Damp and cool, but not wet. 

“I asked her to make it as close as I could to how you’d always described it.” Rex looks over the land, obviously having no clue the cord that his words had just struck in you. The stinging tears finally starting to blur your eyes. “I know it could be better but I figure we can work on it together—Are you okay?” His expression falls into concern as he closes the distance between himself and you. 

“Mhm.” You nod, looking around again. It wasn’t the same. It was perfect. It was better than your mind could have conjured on its own. It was real. 

“Are you sure? Is it too much? Shit, I should have asked or—”

A small breeze picks up, sending a chill over any exposed skin. And that’s when you hear it. A small jingle. The ringing of musical metal dancing against itself. Windchimes. A tree a few yards away from the porch held them, clear and shining in the light. It shreds your last threads of composure, drawing a choked gasp from you. 

You hear Rex saying your name, concern lacing his tone, and quicker than he can repeat it, you’ve spun around. It’s messy, and wet and cut short as you shove your face into the collar of his shirt, but it still constituted a kiss.

“Was that good? Does that mean you’re happy?” His hands grip your forearms gently.

“It’s amazing, Rex. It’s…it’s everything.” You can’t help but cry, all the unshed tears from the proposal, wedding and reception finally breaching the damn, resulting in a very damp shirt collar for Rex. He just stands, at first trailing his thumb over your forearms, then pulls you into a hug until your breath begins to level out again. 

Then you just stand. Listening to the environment around you, and how alive it is. 

Finally, Rex breaks the silence. “How was the surprise?”

“Good. Really fucking good.” You nod enthusiastically, wiping the corners of your eyes before letting out a broken chuckle. “And this time it was actually a surprise.”

He beams at that, rubbing your lower back. “I think breakfast is just about ready, well, probably cold now, but I can warm it up. Want to go back in? I can take you on a full tour later.”

“Yeah. That sounds really nice. Thank you.” 

And so you had breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. Rex compared every room to the pages of various home improvement magazines, explaining every tweak he made. And when the evening came, you both got to tuck into your new bed. Not that much sleeping happened that night. 

The next morning you wondered if you’d wake up back in a hospital room, the previous day another wishful day dream. But then Rex’s grip tightened around your waist, and he let out a heaved breath that tickled your neck. The screen door was still open from the night before, allowing for the gentle rhythmic chiming to waft in with every breeze. 

Relaxing, you leaned back against Rex, relishing in the way he hazily peppered kisses to the back of your neck.  

All things considered, it was a hell of a lot better than dying. 

Authors note: And just like that, it's over! My first ever fic, and it's finally complete. Thank you so much to everyone who has ever supported me. I've read each and every comment, and I'll miss the community that this fic has had. You are all so lovely and I'm glad that I got the privilege to own some of your time, no matter how short! I'm still working through final edits of earlier chapters, but other than that I have no intentions of continuing this in anyway. I'm excited for another project I'm working on, but I'm not sure that I'll work on any more Invincible related content, at least not for a while. Anyways, thanks again! And good bye to over a year of my life lololol

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 @0ut0fsweets @cheeyan @spidernuggets @sweet-cuddlebug @ohmysoultakemysoul @lapisbwub @velovicy @liquideyes @insirecrate @isnotraven @thatonegayloser616 @viovya @miss-ivy-kyle @kaillou66 @x-intothevoid-x @n0isypeech @mistyxc @not-a-robot1 @awenthealchemist @sakeeeee @zoiesturgis request to be tagged for new parts!

Just got to almost 96k words on my Jumin Han fic that I haven’t posted any of yet. I’ve been working on it since New Year’s Eve off and on while working on my Rex splode fic.

These chapters are so much longer than the Rex ones and it’s giving me WHIPLASHHH

Crawling Back to You

Chapter thirty-four

Synopsis: The Aftermath

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 10.2k

Chapter: 34/35

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW/CW: Minor Injury Descriptions, Smut, Overstim, Biting, Unprotected P-in-V, General Unholiness

Note: N/A

It was an odd feeling to wake up in a hospital room alone now. The true eeriness would have hit him harder if he could take his mind off of the agony for more than a brief few moments. Any worthwhile pain killers had been restricted, for fear of him not waking up again. Recovery was a slow, and painfully aware process. No one would talk to him. When he opened his mouth to speak, only unintelligible grunts and muffled chokes would sound out. Which at the very least got him attention easily. Doctors and nurses alike would rush him, and explain how he shouldn’t attempt to force speech as it would only cause further harm to his vocal cords. 

“You’ve experienced extensive damage to your trachea. Any unneeded pressure will make it take that much longer to heal. Please refrain.”

Rex wanted to grab him, shake him and tell him, “I wouldn’t be doing any of this if you just told me what I wanted to know!” But someone must have already accounted for this at some point, as he’d woken up restrained to the hospital bed. 

He needed to know you were okay. He needed to know that you’d gotten up again, that his efforts weren’t without worth. 

Through the haze he put it together, how he’d ended up restricted. The ripping of IVs and the lurch as his knees hit the floor. It wasn’t a solid fall, but rather a mushy one. His legs, already too bruised, useless blood pooling beneath the skin squelch with the contact. He’d tried yelling, begging, anything. No sound would come out. Piercing like the sharpened edge of a knife tearing through his throat brought tears to his eyes, just as quickly as the bile rose to his throat. People were shouting. Nurses, doctors, it made no difference. He was looking for someone. Someone he couldn’t conjure in his state. He knew that it was important, his reason for living, but everything was so fuzzy. A dark uniform branded with the neon green star of the GDA marched through the door just as blood flecked vomit met the linoleum floor. And just as quickly, Rex was injected with a tranquilizer that could have killed a horse. 

Instead of killing him, it merely sent him deep into a dream. Or rather, a memory.

Cooled finger tips pressed to his chest. The sensation of his heart getting ripped out, even though it stayed put. And the dull reminder that it never felt like that again. Ever since the first time you’d healed him, it’d only ever felt warm and tingly. But this time it hadn’t started that way. A firm crease to your brow, a curl of the lip, and disappointment in your tone. “Why do you hate me?”

It meshed with another memory, one after you’d started dating. He’d been laying on your bed, his stomach pressed to the mattress, and his cheek against your pillow. You sat on his lower back, hands pressed to shoulder blades. “Is this any different?”

“No, it still feels…good.” He admitted, then grumbled, “You’re using too much energy on this.”

“No, I’m not.” He could hear the eye roll in your tone. “How about this?” You dragged your hands down his bare spine, almost meeting your thighs.

He couldn’t speak, but you’d gathered enough from how he shoved his face into the pillow and shuddered beneath you. Laughter bubbled up at your throat, exiting in heavy handed teases and feather-light touches.

“I hate you.” He grumbled as you slid forward, your torso pressing to his back.

“Mhm.” You hummed before kissing the back of his shoulder, leading up to his neck. 

When the tranquilizer finally wore off, Rex woke to all the aches he’d ever felt all over again.

Days had passed now since the fight first happened. The crushing weight of the variants grip on his throat. The shifting of his ribs inside of him with every twist and blow. You, on the ground, drenched in blood. The visual flashed through his mind multiple times a day. He still wasn’t clear on how he’d gotten out. He was ready to detonate, his fingers nearly reaching through his flesh to hit bone, and then he was on the ground. When did he hit the ground? He fell, he must have. He knew that much at the least. Did that Mark drop him? Did Mark turn to find you after he’d passed out? He couldn’t stop the horrific images from conjuring, and they only ran more wild as days continued to pass with no news. 

No one had visited him, which either meant no one gave a shit, or they were still dealing with the hoard of Invincibles. He hoped the former. He was beginning to gain some use of his vocal cords back. A few times a day a speech therapist came in and instructed him how he should form his words in a way that doesn’t hinder the progress made so far. 

She would tell him to start with simple words. Cat. Dog. Box. 

He always tried to say your name. 

Over a week had passed since he’d first woken up, thanks to his accelerated healing and a lot of determination to be able to ask one question; he was finally able to speak, in short, broken sentences. This he wasted no time in putting to use the moment Cecil entered his room. The first recognizable face, and first visitor. 

“Where is she?” The words felt like a stern demand in his head, but came out more as a weak crackling. Still, he attempted to push himself up further on the hospital bed. This only stole his breath more, searing pain dancing over his ribs. He wouldn’t have gotten far with the restraints that still hadn’t been removed regardless. 

“I’m here to assess if we can remove those.” Cecil doesn’t look up at Rex, his eyes glued to a tablet that contains notes pertaining to Rex’s progress. It would have amused him to think about how nuclear launch codes were probably kept on the same device if the circumstances were different. 

“Where?” Rex hissed out again, testing one arm against the restraint, which still didn’t budge.

Cecil ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip, glancing up at Rex. “If we take those off and you get up, you’ll fuck up your insides even more. We need you to be healed as quickly as possible. It’s a shit show out there. All hands on deck and all that.”

Rex could not express with words from the English language how much he didn’t care about healing, and how much less he cared about getting back into the fray. His jaw set tightly. Every ounce of frustration he’d barely held back from the passing nurses and CNAs threatened to overflow now. Cecil wasn’t like them, he knew what Rex wanted to know. He had to. And he wasn’t answering. A loud clammer sounded from Rex’s attempt to lunge toward Cecil. He was too far even if Rex wasn’t held back, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“See, doing things like that doesn’t make me want to have them removed. I’ll come back tomorrow.” 

Rex panics. He doesn’t have time to formulate an argument about how Cecil doesn’t have the right to stop him, or bring up how fucked up it is that he’s practically chained to a hospital bed. He can only gasp out your name. Frustration and his greatest fears build up into stinging that lingers in his eyes, blurring them. He repeats himself in a wheezed groan, his throat tightening painfully. 

Cecil hesitates, his hand dropping to his side, alongside the tablet. “You need rest, Rex.” He muttered. Exhaustion haunted his features, somehow aging him even more. He still had a swollen eye, the aged bruise yellowing at the edges. 

“I need to know.” Rex gritted out, his breath coming out in shallow huffs that stung his lungs and ached in his ribs. “Please.”

“She’s alive. But she hasn’t stabilized. Her body’s fighting every life saving measure we give it, but it’s not healing itself.”

All Rex heard was that you’re alive. His back resting back into the bed, the first breath of short lived relief entering his lungs. 

The words repeated in his head. It’d been over a week and she hadn’t stabilized. 

“Is she—”

“We don’t know. Whatever question you have, we don’t know. Any scientists we can spare are working on it. But we can’t spare many.”

 “I have to-”

“You can’t. And you won’t.”

Rex’s mouth went dry. He opened it a few times to say something. Demand to see you. If he saw you, maybe by some miracle you’d be alright. You’d survive. The words didn’t come. 

“Rest.” Cecil reiterated, his stern gaze softening a few degrees. “There is nothing we can do but wait.”

˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗

A few more days passed with no visits from anyone. A GDA agent had come yesterday to remove the restraints, which, once off, revealed violet bruising at his wrists. Another wound for his abused body to trudge through healing. It seemed like a third week might approach and go by with no news, until a nurse entered with a wheel chair. It looked bulky and unnecessary, but the next words she said had Rex not caring. 

“The director asked me to bring you to the observation room.”

Other than his pride being bruised on behalf of literally being carted around, Rex wasn’t sure how to feel. All the apprehensions had built up to the point that the nurses didn’t respond anymore to his many complaints. Everyone who worked with him knew your name, and knew to what extent he was tormented over you. Which in turn became its own kind of torment for them. 

The observation room was completely empty. Sterile white walls paired with bland pepper flaked linoleum. The only distinctive aspect was the large, black rimmed, rectangular window that took up almost the whole wall it resided on. On the other side was a hospital bed. It faced the window but was abutting the opposite wall. The room was equally undecorated as the observation room, but it was made up for with machine after machine. Vital sign monitors and plenty others that Rex could not identify. Although he was not paying them much attention. Because there you were. Wiring attached to nearly every surface of your body, strewn through your hair, and tubing placed between your jaws and down your throat. 

You looked…fine. At least relatively. Rex pressed his hand to the window, taking a shallow breath. He couldn’t see a single bruise. You weren’t wearing any casts, or bandaged, unless they were beneath your gown. You looked healthy. Alive. 

The telltale azure flash reflected off the window. Rex didn’t dare take his eyes off of you, refusing to even squint against the light. If Cecil was waiting for Rex to say something, he’d be waiting a long time. 

“It’s all internal.” Cecil finally said. His scratchy monotone felt more crisp in the dry air of the room. “The boys at R&D found a way to slow her body’s natural healing process last year, which luckily has been able to stop her from fighting our surgeries to an extent. But it’s still not a guarantee. Only the most recent procedure took.”

“She looks fine.” Rex whispers.

Cecil stays silent, shifting to pull his hand out of his pocket. Whatever he’d considered doing with it he must have decided against, because it only stayed limp at his side. “You’re free to stay with her if you like. You should be able to get around on your own in a day or so if our charts are correct, which they are. A nurse will come and do your vitals as needed as well as administer any pain relieving measures you still need.”

“Why?” Rex didn’t bother turning to Cecil. He never did things without a reason, and that reason was only ever in the best interest of the world. What would he gain from this?

Cecil pinched the bridge of his nose, flattening his fingers out to rub his eyes. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Rex.”

˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗

Just as Cecil said, Rex didn’t need the wheel chair for more than another day. He’d been offered a cane for balance but briskly refused. They’d brought a chair into the room where you were. And so, he sat, and he waited. Like a dog waiting at the foot of the bed. It was bizarre now to be the one in the chair when it had been you for so long. All his time spent in the hospital after the lizard league, all of Rae’s time, and you’d sat in one of these shitty chairs the whole time. It was a whole new perspective for him. 

The workers had offered to bring in a cot for him, a means for him to get more rest and heal faster. He refused. At some point the idea sunk in that maybe, in some twisted way, if he remained uncomfortable, it would somehow benefit you. Like he was taking away your ailments into himself. It was ridiculous, but it was all he could cling to. 

Two years ago he would have never done this for a single living soul. And there were plenty he owed it to. It wasn’t lost on him how different things had become, how different he had become. Over two decades of selfishness, and a lifetime's worth of bad decisions. Not all atoned for, but no longer poisoning him all the same. Somewhere between drinks and galas he’d grown soft, and pathetic. And when he was near you, he didn’t mind.

He’d tell you all about it when you woke up. It was nearing a week since he’d been allowed to stay with you, and there was still no feasible end in sight. They’d removed the tubing from your throat earlier this morning in hopes that the last of the blood to come had been expelled from your lungs. 

 Rex usually slept upright in the chair, waking at the jerking sensation of his body shifting forward every few minutes. Or the nurses coming throughout the night to check vitals by hand. But tonight, he rested against the bed, his head on top of his arms, one hand grasped gently over yours. They were cold, akin to ice. 

His eyelids drooped, threatening the restless release of sleep. The melodic beeping of the heart monitor working as a metronome, lulling him only further. With one last swipe of his thumb, he drifted off, his cheek pressed against his forearm, but still facing toward you. 

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

You’d heard stories about people being in comas. Tales of people hearing their family members discuss pulling the plug and waking up one day to confront them. Or near death experiences where you see the light and decide not to go. 

Neither happened. You’d simply gone. Chimes still ringing in your ears. And then, without much ceremony, you were back. 

There were new sounds, not the melodic ring of windchimes, but the dull, increasing beep of a machine somewhere to the left of you. Then came the pain. As if your insides had been tossed into a blender, finely pureed and poured back into your body. It came back all at once. The fight, the dreaded end, the finale. It was impossible to regulate your breathing, panic lacing every thought that managed to latch on long enough in your mind to be properly deciphered. 

You’d lost. You weren’t strong enough. Rex— He’d needed your help. He’d—

He…

You blinked, your eyes stinging against the sterile air. 

He was lying on your hand. 

You’d died. Or maybe you’d finally got those predeath hallucinations everyone talked about. If you’d died already, you were in a great deal more pain than you expected for being dead. 

You tested moving your free arm. It felt heavy as lead, and restricted from the wiring attached. After a few feeble attempts, you were able to raise it. Hesitantly, you ran your fingers through his hair. He felt real enough. Was he dead too? The thought twisted your stomach, making you more nauseous. Nails tracing over his scalp, you let yourself indulge, the rhythmic motion quelling your heaving, panicked breaths. He adjusted in his sleep, groaning softly before his eye closest to you squinted open. It fluttered shut again as he leaned his head closer to you. Maybe being dead wasn’t so bad.

Not even a second passes before Rex shoots up, your fingers catching in his hair, accidentally loosening a chunk from its updo. His eyes are wide as he stares at you wordlessly. He looks exhausted, dark circles pressed into the tanned skin under his lids.

“Hey—” You could hardly get the word out, your tired smile burying in his shoulder as he surged forward. Even with how quick he moved there was still an inherent gentleness. His arms reaching behind your neck, one hand cradling the back of your head, as he leaned over the railing of the bed. It couldn’t have been comfortable for him. In fact, you could swear you heard a small hiss of pain. His hand at the back of your head only pulls you further into him, the tense silence of the room now filled with his voice running a thousand miles a minute. His tone is scratchy, like he hasn’t talked in days. It cracks on every other word which you can hardly catch in the plethora. He finally falls into a chant of ‘I love you’s and ‘Don’t scare me like that ever again’s, which then devolves into just your name, whispered like a prayer into the crown of your head.

It was starting to feel less like you died. Could you even dare to hope? Had you both somehow made it? Really made it?

“Rex?”

His fingers twitch against your skin, and you feel him nod against you, his chin knocking your head deftly.

“Are we alive?”

He finally lets go of you, pulling back to look you in the eye. He’s misty eyed, something you’ve most assuredly never seen before. You can’t even think of a tease to throw at him, not that this was the appropriate time anyways. He clears his throat, while his arm closest to you travels down from your shoulder to your hand to grasp it. “I think so.”

“Well, don’t sound so sure.” You laughed, only to grimace from the pain caused by the jostling. 

Rex shook his head, a small smile threatening to overtake him. He grabbed the chair he was sitting in and pulled it closer, never once letting go of your hand. “I’ve seen Cecil since I woke up, if we’re dead, we're in hell.”

It brings a soft smile of your own to your lips. Forever ago, you’d thought almost the exact same thing when you woke up to Cecil’s face. “You’re alive.” The words said aloud break through that last barrier between confusion and reality, leaving way for only relief. “I thought you were—”

“I thought you were.” Rex lifts your hand, grazing his lips across your knuckles.

“I didn’t know if I could do it.” The confession spills from your lips like a dirty secret. Something you must share after so long holding so much back. “I remember seeing you, and I remember the pain, I remember…I wanted to help you, I went to help you. I had to convince Cecil, there was no way I could get to you in time without him and—” The words are pouring faster than you can consider them. “I should have gone back to you first, I should have called, I—Oh god, is Rae okay?” You hadn’t even considered the possibility her retirement could have been short lived. 

“Rae is fine. She was here yesterday.” He interrupts, holding your hand tighter. “And…” He seems to consider how to respond to your previous word vomit, the inside of his lower lip dragging between his teeth. “Fuck, you saved me.” Your name left his mouth in a sigh. “If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would have happened.”

“Rex, I don’t…” You trail off as warmth slides over your cheeks, tears you hadn’t felt building up. “What happened?” You needed to know if the world was still burning or not, now that you knew Rex and Rae were okay. Did the rest of your team make it? Had Bulletproof and Donald escaped the same fate you and Rex nearly met? What about the Guardians? Mark? The real Mark. 

“What happened?” Rex rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, sighing out a breath. “I think we won. But then again, half of the biggest cities in the world were blown to shit, so. You know.” Artfully put as always.

“Are they gone? The other Invincibles?”

Rex moves to adjust your blanket, pulling it up higher on your chest. You aren’t sure why he’s doing it until you register your eyes closing during blinking for a few seconds longer than they should. Exhaustion was making a solid attempt, a gravitational pull tempting you toward the dark abyss that waited. But nothing sounded worse than taking your eyes off of your love for a single second more. 

“Yes.”

“And you’re here?” You can’t fight the pull of sleep any longer, your words starting to slur. 

“I’m always here.” 

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

Over the next few days you ebbed to and from consciousness. Sometimes able to hold a conversation, other times merely able to open your eyes and search for Rex. Each time he was there. Always making contact in one way or another. Whether he was folded over the bed like before, his hand clasping yours, or sitting back in the chair, his chin against his chest as he dozed, digits grasping your ankle through the thin linen of the blanket. A new home improvement magazine at the foot of your bed every day. Courtesy of you telling a particularly nice nurse, that if she brought them, he’d stop pestering them with questions pertaining to you.

He’d grown exceedingly clingy, watching you like a hawk even more than you felt inclined to do for him. The only time he gave himself to get up and stretch, use the bathroom, or the shower in your room, was when the nurses came to assess you. Even then, you practically had to force him. Going so far as to threaten making him leave, which worked, even though you both knew that you wouldn’t. 

With each day you were able to stay awake longer and longer. The record time at the moment being three hours and forty minutes. Half of that time you were in so much pain all you could do was softly cry. Your body trying and failing to reposition your organs into their correct spots. Rex didn’t overwhelm you with any jumbled words of comfort. He rubbed your back when you threw up, and let you squeeze his hand until the crescent print of your nails were practically tattooed into him.

But you were healing. You knew you must be, because eventually they removed the wires. Freeing your range of motion and moving two of the machines that crowded your bed into the corner. There were still a few residual connections left to continue monitoring your vitals and to make sure nothing of major importance suddenly dropped. All in all, things were looking up. Or at the very least, marginally less claustrophobic. 

The dinky hospital bed did little for you in the ways of space, but not even an hour after the wires were removed, you’d seen the wheels turning within Rex’s head. The idea of being at arms length now, too much to bear.

“Rex—!” You braced yourself the moment you’d seen the idea presented itself. He was far too easy to read to you now, it was nearly shown as a shining light bulb above him. 

He shook his head, not responding. Already at his feet, he climbed onto the bed, pushing between your body and the left railing. The space was already cramped without his bulky form. It forced you to reposition onto your side, which luckily didn’t cause any major discomfort. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against him so that you weren’t pressed against the right railing. Even though there was no escaping that now. A giggle escaped you as his breath tickled your neck, his chin hooking over your shoulder. 

“I don’t think these beds are made for two.” 

“I looked it up. They are.” He mumbles.

“Sure, you did.” 

“I can be competent sometimes.”

“You can lie sometimes.” You clarify.

“That too.” His grip tightens, as if making sure that you won’t somehow escape. 

His closeness makes him impossible to ignore. Not just him as Rex, but him as a whole. You can duly register his aches now, although much more muted than your powers usually allowed. Bruising still clung to the muscles around his ribs, but other than that, the major injury seemed to have healed. The most present pang was harder to pin down. Weeks of sleeping in a chair, staying in one place while at your bedside. You want to heal it, to offer a respite. But you couldn’t. Your powers aren’t listening. You can’t even heal yourself, let alone someone else yet. 

It leaves you feeling helpless. Weak. 

“I’m going to sleep here.” Rex announces, voice already tainted by the air of his drowsiness. Effectively pulling you from your thoughts.

“The nurses are going to come in eventually.” You remind him gently, letting your hand rest on top of his that was fastened to your hip. 

“I don’t care.”

“It’s a little weird though, right?”

“I don’t care.” He reiterates, nuzzling into your neck further, and humming out a breath that you can feel fully deplete his lungs. In all honesty, you’d rather he slept here than on that chair again. Maybe he’d be able to quell some of those aches. 

“I love you.” You whisper, tracing the defined bones in his hand up to his wrist then back down again.

“I know.” 

You chuckle, waiting to hear the sound of his breath slowing into sleep. His grip relaxes minutely, and you feel the tension in his chest relax behind you. 

“I love you too.” His voice scratched with sleep. Not even a minute later, you feel him drift off. 

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

“That was beyond stupid, she could have died.”

“Rex, if you’re going to keep interjecting I’m going to make you leave.” 

“Oh, come on!” He holds his hands out in exasperation toward a very exhausted looking Donald. “I am not the person in the wrong here!” Rex was finally getting comfortable enough with the fact you were for sure going to live, and his attitude was coming back with it. Even if it hadn’t been directed at you yet. 

“I chose to go fight, we’ve been over this.”

“They grabbed you from right in front of me and then dropped you into a fight with one of those Mark fuckers.” 

“What else were they supposed to do?”

“Something else? Anything else!” He gives you an incredulous look, russet brows pulling together. Even still, his touch didn’t leave your knee where it’d been resting since Donald arrived. 

You sighed at Rex, turning your attention back to Donald. “I’m really glad to see you're okay.”

“I’m always okay.” Donald assures. As if that’s any real assurance.

“Right…” A glance at Rex reveals him to be shooting an extremely serious looking scowl in Donald's direction. You continue to ignore him. “So, about the whole, metal…cyborg…robot thing—”

“Ah, right.” Donald shifts uncomfortably. “What do you want to know?”

“All of it?”

“Right.” Donald’s twist upwards over his aviators. “Well, I’ve…died somewhere around thirty-nine times.”

“What the fuck?” Rex breathes out.

“Each time I was rebuilt. Each time they were able to salvage less and less, resulting in the metal skeleton you saw.”

“Cecil…the GDA, they can just…bring people back?” If that was true, then why fear death? But then again, if it was true, why did any superheroes ever die and stay dead?

“Sort of. There must be enough brain matter left to reanimate the consciousness.”

“Oh.” Cecil had enough of your brain matter to make a damn army. Would it still work even if you weren’t dead? Another you, with your memories, your experiences, but not you? 

“If the worst had happened, it was considered a viable option for you.” Donald says, as if reading your mind.

“What?” Your voice cracks.

“Your abilities stem from your brain. It was believed that if we brought you back, you’d be the same, powers and all. Just a hell of a lot stronger.”

“But would I have even been me anymore?”

Donald’s lips tighten into a straight line. “I’m afraid that even I don’t know that for sure.”

If Rex has anything to input into this conversation, he doesn’t. The only thing readable on his face is disgust.

Later, Rae was finally back to visit. After her initial visit, she had been instructed not to come back again until you were further into your progression of healing. 

“Go home and take a nap or something, Rex. I think I can handle a few hours.”

To hear your apartment referred to as his home sparked a warmth in your like apple cider on a cold winter day. It also felt odd to remember you weren’t in San Francisco anymore, the Teen Team base now hundreds of miles away again. In polar opposite fashion of how he had acted when Donald came, Rex submitted rather easily, pressing a kiss to your hair line before mumbling something about a ‘real shower’, and being back in one hour. 

“That was surprisingly painless.” You remarked once he was out of range. “I haven’t been able to get him to leave me longer than fifteen minutes.”

“I think we have a mutual understanding.” Rae brushed off, finally taking the time to analyze you closer. “Well, you don’t look on the brink of death.”

“Haven’t been for a few days.”

“Not according to Rex’s texts.”

Your curiosity piqued. “What’d his texts say?”

“The normal dramatics.”

Very nondescript. Disappointing. 

“I would hug you but I’m holding off until you get back to the apartment, so it’s like a whole big thing.” Rae’s eyes flit over the room as she takes everything in. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You know, like in the movies?”

“I guess I’ll just have to wait on the edge of my seat.”

“I guess you will.” Rae smiles, her eyes crinkling underneath the frames of her specs. 

You reach forward to grab her hand, squeezing lightly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“You’re one to speak.” Rae scoffs.

“Hey! You can’t be sarcastic with me! I’m on my death bed, remember?” You feign a cough, that actually ends up bringing forth a real wince. 

“You’re very dejected, I can see.”

“I am. Practically forgotten.” An overexaggerated pout pulls at the corners of your mouth.

Rae rolls her eyes, shaking her head with a grin that refuses to leave. You both discussed the mundane things. How Rae had moved all of her things into your apartment, and her new life as a non-super. By the end of it she began to delve into the fear she’d experienced when hearing about you. Her desperate attempts to gain any kind of news, and the loneliness of seeing your room empty day after day. Even though you’d both technically not had the chance to truly live together. 

“I’ve been apartment shopping too.” Rae states on a lighter note, breaking the tension from the previous serious conversation.

“You’re leaving me already?” This pout isn’t feigned, but rather involuntary. You’d given her the offer all those months ago for a reason. You wanted to be near her.

“I’m not leaving you.” She snorts. “All the places are within the city, a few only a couple blocks away.”

“Why?”

“It was only ever going to be temporary.” Rae chides, then more humorously adds, “Plus I don’t want to hear anything between you and Rex ever.”

“Oh my god! Why are you even thinking about that!” You groaned, shrinking down into your bed, face heating. 

“You aren’t?”

“Not right now!”

“But you have been, huh?”

“Okay, maybe it’d be a little weird—”

“It’d be very weird.” Rae interposed firmly.

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

It’s finally the day of your discharge from the hospital. Only a few more T’s need to be crossed, and I’s dotted. Rex had peeled himself from you to go grab your car to drive you home. It’d been transported, alongside Rex’s belongings by a very concerned Zandale. And received by a somehow still disgruntled Rex. 

“You just shoved all my shit back in the boxes, that’s rude.”

“You packed your own boxes, dumbass.”

Even from the story told from the jaded perspective of Rex, you could tell they were both glad the other was alive. 

You’re completely alone in your room, sitting at the edge of your hospital bed. This room had been so different from the one you used to occupy on your quick stays here at the beginning of all this. The large observation window being one of the most obvious differences. But still, it was familiar–a constant, throughout everything. Part of you wondered if you could truly feel comfortable with the prospect of hopefully never being back. 

“It’s good to see you, kid.” 

“Took you long enough.” You mutter, looking up to the door to see Cecil, someone you’d been waiting to hear from, even if you weren’t sure of your opinion on him anymore. 

“I’ve been a little busy. A couple handfuls of Invincibles and a world conquering Viltrumite will do that to you.”

“World conquering Viltrumite?”

“Long story. Could have used you though.”

You shifted in place, no longer able to meet his eyes. “Sorry to not be of assistance.”

That familiar tension settles between you both. The unspoken implication of who you were to him. A weapon to be used when needed. 

“I’m not here to convince you to rejoin The Guardians.”

You blink, the words sinking in. “What?”

“Once your powers return fully, I would love nothing more than to have you back under me. It would be good for the GDA, for the Guardians, hell, it would be good for the world.” He hesitates, the taut flesh of his scar stretching with the movement of his mouth. “Selfishly, I don’t want you to return. Because you will die. Not might. It will happen, and maybe, just maybe, you save the world while doing so.” His hands press further into the pockets of his slacks. “But this was never meant to be your world. If you want to return I won't stop you, but in your best interest, you shouldn’t.”

It feels like a door has opened that you were waiting for. Permission you hadn’t realized you were seeking. A way out from the very same person who brought you in. Rae’s words rise again in your subconscious, this had been exactly what she was saying to you. Being a hero is just another name for a death wish. It didn’t spare anyone. You, Rex, Rae, Mark. Round and round it went, a cylinder with bullets at the ready in a game of Russian roulette, but there was no winning. If you managed to escape it once, it merely kept spinning and triggering again until your skull was caved by lead and copper.

Once that might have been a viable ending, an honorable one. But it wasn’t what you wanted now. You wanted the calm tranquility. Boring domesticity. Predictable normalcy. 

“I think I’m done, Cecil.”

He nodded. No emotion visible on his face. “I’ll spend every possible opportunity trying to convince you otherwise.”

“I know.”

For once, you felt like you fully understood Cecil. You saw him. Not as a director of the GDA, or a leader of super humans, but a man. A man who’d spent so long in charge he didn’t remember any other way. There were no relations worth more than the ending. And he would achieve that ending by any means necessary. But moments like this showed that there was still a part of him that felt. A sliver of humanity. Care disguised as selfishness. 

“I hope I see you around.” You say.

“I hope I don’t.” He replies.

 ˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

“I don’t see why you have to be the one to drive. Do you even technically have a license?" You shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat of your own car. 

“Uh, yeah, I think.”

“Not helping.”

“I had to drive those speeder things all the time while in The Guardians, I think I can handle a normal car.” Rex pulls out of the loading area, turning onto the main road without using a blinker. 

Great.

“I hope you can handle the ticket we get when you’re pulled over with equal poise.” 

“I bet I could talk my way out of it.”

“Let’s not find out.” You mutter, watching the memorable landmarks pass by your window. You could make the drive back to your apartment from this hospital with your eyes closed. Rex, it seems, couldn’t make it with his eyes open. He missed the turn twice, and then a third time just to mess with you.

Upon entering the door of your apartment you were instantly hit by the scent of food. It's overwhelming after so long not being able to eat anything solid, then the shitty hospital food after that. Before you can call out, Rae’s arms are around you, nearly knocking you over if Rex hadn’t splayed his hand across your back for stability at the last second. 

“Hi.” You muffle into her hair.

“Told you I’d get you.” She whispers, squeezing you tighter, and refusing to let go for far longer than comfortable, but neither of you wanted to let go. 

Rex eventually squeezed past you, grumbling about food burning, which Rae gives him a nasty look over. “I’d never let food burn, oh ye of little faith.”

“What about when—” You start, holding a hand up in recollection at your miserable steak dinner from your attempt at making food together.

“Sh!” She hushes. “I’ve had a lot of time to practice since then.”

And she wasn’t lying. Steaks that looked a thousand times more edible than your joint previous attempt were on a serving platter at the center of your formerly unused dining table. Several of your favorite sides were brought out to surround it. Damn near a full feast, and far too much for just the three of you. 

And then Rex had four servings. 

There were no left overs. 

You step around the apartment having been shooed from the kitchen when you tried to help with the dishes. Arguing resounds from the other side of the wall, over whether the plates had to be rinsed before being put in the dishwasher. You take your time glancing over all the tiny changes Rae had made. A figure of hers here, a new picture there. Most notable was the carousel picture frame she’d given you when you first met. It’d formerly been empty, filled with the generic stock photos. Now it was full. Photos of you and Rae she’d taken during drink nights, one of you and Rex he’d managed to sneak while you were asleep against his chest on the couch from the winter time. Another of Rae and Bulletproof, one of just Rex and Amanda at a pinball machine that you’d never seen before. And the final slot is a picture of Shapesmith, which you were sure Rae tickled herself with from the beginning of the printing process right to putting it in the frame. 

“You’re hopeless!” Rae calls out as she exits the kitchen, an air of real annoyance emanating from her.

“It’s an unneeded step!”

“They won’t come out clean!”

“Yes, they will!” Rex calls back.

“Okay, I’m going to go before I murder him.” Rae shoots a look at you, already grabbing her things from a coat rack near the door.

“You’re leaving already? I thought we were spending the evening together.” You tried not to let your disappointment be fully audible, but it still stung.

“Amanda’s in town, I’m going to meet her for drinks. And don’t worry, I live here for the time being, so I’ll still see you.” Rae reassures, searching over the dining room table for her phone.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing Amanda again, could I come with?” 

Rae furrows her brow, looking at you as if you’ve lost your mind. “She’ll be here a few days, you can see her before she goes. Maybe enjoy being home with that—” She raises her voice so that Rex can hear, “infuriating idiot—!” She lowers her voice again, “for an evening?” 

Oh.

“Okay.” You squeaked, finally understanding. Talk about a wingwoman. 

“Okay?” She doesn’t wait for further response, giving you a last hug before heading out the door. “Love ya!”

The pressure of the moment is no longer lost on you. And suddenly you’re nervous, even with your history with Rex. With the Mark situation, several situations before that, and the rocky terrain after it, it’d been a while since you got to just be with Rex. Not counting his dog-like attachment while you were at the hospital. 

When you entered the kitchen he was crouched down, scanning through the buttons on the dishwasher. You hadn’t even considered how difficult assimilating to normal life might be for Rex. In fact, neither of you had discussed it yet. It just laid heavily between you in the long silences, a quiet agreement made to not talk about it until you were home and settled.

“Need any help?” 

Rex jumped, his attention snapping to you. “Shit! Sorry, no.” He stumbled over his words, standing up straight to rub the back of his neck. 

“It kinda looks like you need help.” You step closer, giving him a lopsided grin.

“It’s just a little different from the industrial one we had at The Guardians base, and the…Eve we had at Teen Team.”

“Eve did your guys’ dishes at Teen Team?” Your face dropped. Of course it fell to her. 

“Well, I mean it took her like two seconds.” He said sheepishly.

“Mhm.” You hummed, raising a brow, then reaching down and pressing the power button twice. It instantly turned on, the sound of water pulling into the machine almost comedically loud.

“It should be more intuitive.” Rex grumbled.

“More intuitive than just pressing the power button?”

“Okay, fine whatever.” He brushes off, looking a little embarrassed. It was little moments like these that alerted you to just how many changes Rex had gone through. Nothing short of a metamorphosis. If the Rex Splode you’d met on your first day met this Rex Sloane, who got flustered over not figuring something out, or spent weeks sitting by you in the hospital, he’d probably have a conniption. 

“Thank you for everything.” You commented after chuckling at his previous statement. “I mean it. You didn’t have to stay every day in the hospital, and all that.”

“Yes, I did.” He responds incredulously. “I’d have been quite the piece of shit if I didn’t.”

“No, I think this one you would have gotten a free pass for.”

His mouth slacks, jaw flexing. “No.” 

“No?” You laugh.

“You saved me, remember?” He moved closer, until there's about a foot between you.

“Well—” You start.

“I don’t think I got to thank you for that.”

“You did.” You swallow roughly, the quick change not necessarily whiplashing you, but still felt. His tone had dropped an octave into something more needy. Distantly familiar. 

“Not really.” He stoops forward, a hand traveling up the side of your neck to hold you still as he leans just that much more to kiss your cheek. The move is surprisingly gentle for the suspense quickly growing in the room. 

You touch the side of your face where his lips had made contact, fluster turning to a cat-like grin. “You’ve become such a softie.” 

The words hardly leave your mouth before he’s on you, practically catching the words as they escape. A muffled noise of surprise is lost against his lips as he forces your jaw open with his own mouth and hand working in tandem. Tongue swiping over your bottom lip, then over your own, he pushes forward, your lower back hitting the edge of the counter. It would have been almost painfully if not for his hand that’d taken the brunt of the movement. If he felt it, he didn’t show it. Brows tensed and breathing heavily into you at every brief separation. His hands roam over you as if he’s never touched you before. Eager to map you out, feel all of you. 

They stop at your lower back, then travel under the curve of your ass in a movement that makes you practically yelp. His grip hooking under your thighs to guide them to his hips, effectively lifting you. All the while his mouth remains plastered to yours, only leaving to pepper kisses down your neck and across your collar bones. 

He luckily has the route to your bedroom much more memorized than the route from the hospital to your apartment. Only stopping once to push you up against the wall, his hips deftly raising into you where your pelvis pressed against him. Any possible friction through your clothes was more than welcome in your eyes, need forcing you into near silence. Any words you wanted to tell him trapping themselves between his tongue and yours. 

Gravity shifts as he tips you backwards, practically dropping you onto the expanse of your bed. It pulls a small gasp from you, the lack of his body heat against you making the air of the room feel that much colder. It’s only amplified as Rex’s fingers hook into the waist of your pants, pulling them and your underwear off all at once. He stops only to rid himself of his clothes, moving with such urgency that it would have made you laugh, if you weren’t feeling that same urgency yourself. You lean up on your elbows, working to get your shirt off, and before you can get your bra fully off, Rex is back on top of you. His skin now felt scorching as you were beginning to acclimate to the cool of the room. His kisses could only be described as devouring, all encompassing. The position he’d taken on top of you allowed for you to feel him completely. A drop of moisture smearing across your upper thigh pulls your attention downward just as his hips jut, rubbing himself against you. 

It didn’t feel intentional, it felt even less so when he pulls his mouth away, rests his forehead against your cheek and lets out a desperate groan as he tries to catch his breath. His hips move again, pressing himself against your thigh once more with intentionality. Normally you’d be fine drawing it out, letting him focus on you like you were sure he was about to do. The muscles in his arms shifted to push himself up to do just that. But, it’d been too long, he’d been too amazing in the hospital. You weren’t in the mood for idle teasing and dynamic shifts, you wanted him now. 

Once he was lifted enough for you to snake your hand between his body and yours, you did. 

“What are you—”

You pumped your hand over his cock, taking only distant notice of any veins, before lining him up to yourself. The tip brushes your clit in a way that only amplifies the warm electricity pooling in your lower stomach. “Need you.” To the point. His biceps flex from here he has you boxed in at the shoulders. 

For a second it seems like Rex might disagree, his eyes locked on where you’re nearly joined. You hook your knees against the sides of his hips, encouraging him forward just that much more. It’s enough for him to catch against your slickness, which is in turn enough for him to lose his prior reservations. He sinks forward, pushing in with relative ease, as you take in a sharp breath at the stretch. Once he’s fully sheathed he stops, letting you acclimate to him. His right hand travels up your neck to the side of your face, his thumb caressing the curve of your cheekbone to your ear. With his free hand he tries to unhook your bra, every movement shifting him inside of you, which was eating away at his patience. 

“Shit.” He breathed out, refusing to use both of his hands, keeping one at your face. Using one hand while dealing with every other stimulus must have been a lot for him, because he was taking much longer than necessary. 

“Should I—?” You try to turn, to give his hand more space between your back and the bed, but the moment you do you hear a soft tear. “Did you just rip it?” 

“No.” He scoffed defensively, his hand pulling the bra from your shoulder in just clear enough view for you both to make out the splintered hooks and frayed cloth.

“Wow.” You chuckled softly. 

“I’ll buy you another one.” He grumbles, finally pulling his hand from your face to finish removing the surprisingly mangled garment. 

“I’ll hold you to that.” Your laugh cut off as he surged forward again, his mouth meeting your throat. A whimper escaping the confines of your lips as he rolls his hips once, then again, trying to achieve rhythm. One of his hands trails down your chest, gripping once then continuing down its path toward where you were joined. You slip a hand up his neck into his hair, pushing him further into your neck. Not that he needed the encouragement. You were lucky to have healing powers or the marks he left you with would be a large cause for concern from bystanders. Your other hand holds him at his bicep, the muscles beneath tensing with each movement of his hips. 

“Shit—” You hissed out as his thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing in a sloppy circular movement in tandem with his pistoning. You clenched against him unintentionally, pulling a deliciously strained groan from his lips. The noise almost lost against your throat and the sound of skin against skin. But it’s enough. You begin the squirm, the mixture of his attention pushing you towards the teetering edge of ecstasy. Every movement of your pelvis to alleviate the pressure only pushes him further in, which he responds to with a rougher, quicker pass of his thumb. 

“Rex—” You sob out, clenching against him impossibly now. He removes his mouth from your throat to meet yours again. It's all teeth and tongue, any noise made from one or the other caught between saliva and need. 

It’s very sudden. Even knowing how quickly your orgasm was approaching it still takes you by surprise. Your back arches off of the bed, white hot pleasure striking through you, curling up your spine to spread across your limbs. The hands you had on Rex tighten, half crescent claw marks forming in his bicep. He moves his mouth from yours to your cheek then across your jaw, while you tremble. He struggles minutely to fully press himself back into you with how much you’re clenching, but still manages as you begin to come down from your high. 

The haze settles in heavy over your consciousness, barely registering at first that he hasn’t stopped. His cock still drags against your tiredly quivering walls, and his thumbpad is still rubbing rough circles against your clit, now bordering discomfort as your body jerks once from the attention. His free hand pushes under you to grip you by the back of your neck, now pushing you into the crook of his own neck, a silent offer of comfort, and you realize soon, a potential apology. 

You jerk again, muscles tensing in your back, pulling your shoulder blades tightly as he keeps rhythm against your whimpers. His hips stutter just as the overstimulation is begging to bring tears to the corners of your eyes. His name at your lips, slurred out again and again in choked sobs. It was bordering between pleasure and pain, discomfort and ecstasy. Your knee jerk reaction was for relief, but in the dull recesses of your mind, you felt another oncoming orgasm. Much quicker than you expected, and fast approaching. 

Rex pushed himself back into the hilt, now pulling out half way with each move just to slam back in. He’s panting something into your shoulder that you can't make out, only stopping to graze his teeth across your skin, licking up the salty tinge of sweat. He accidentally pulls all the way out, gliding on the ample lubricant you provided on your last climax. Cursing softly, he lines himself back up with his hand, hardly leaving your clit for a second before his ministrations are back and he’s pushed his throbbing length as far as it’ll reach once more. 

It’s the last of what you can take, your heart hammering in your ears as you reach your climax for a second time. It's more violent this time, pain-addled pleasure as you sink your teeth into the sensitive skin where the neck leads to the shoulder. A broken moan leaves him, his controlled movements now completely lost to disorder and desperation. Your body tightens around him like a vice and he has no choice but to succumb to it. His hand finally leaves your clit to join his other one behind your neck, sliding it down to your upper back. He pulls you somehow closer, his lips pressing to your neck as a strangled groan passes through them. The warmth of your own orgasm and his filling you just to be pushed further in by the head of his cock as he continues to move. Now that he’s no longer focused on your bundle of nerves it's easier to take, but still surprising. Especially with how he stutters with each move, effectively overstimulating himself as much as he had done to you. It feels physically hard for him to stop, his spent member throbbing painfully inside of you with the last pass before he finally collapses on top of you, keeping himself sheathed inside, but no longer moving. 

At first there’s only silence, filled with panted breathing and roaring in your ears. Then there’s whispering, soft begging pleas whimpering into your skin. 

“Stay with me forever, just like this.” Followed by: “Missed this, missed you. Always miss you.” Which then devolved into a series of slurred ‘I love you’s and a few drops of moisture you couldn’t identify as either sweat dripping off of one of you, or more touchingly, a few stray tears from him. If they were tears, you doubted that he would tell you, or let you see. “Will you stay with me?”

The question makes you chuckle. Not in a humorous way, but rather a touch ironically. It was almost stupid he had to ask, but also willfully sweet. You pressed a kiss to the deep bite mark in the crook of his neck. He draws in a deep breath, which you figured was more from your shifting, and his oversensitivity than anything else. “Yes, Rex. I will.”

“Good.” He sighs, his body relaxing more into you, a deadweight compression blanket on top of you. A moment passes, and you watch as the bite mark you’d left slowly fades. Rex tenses again. “You’re using your powers.”

“Not intentionally.” You whisper, shock turning to excitement. This was the first time you’d been able to fully register your powers again since you got better. You could feel him now, truly feel him again. The aches woven so deeply in his muscle tissues that they’d never truly be gone, alongside the newer aches from two months sitting in a dinky chair at the hospital. Every point of contact between the two of you allows for your abilities to flow through, healing the newer aches in an instant.

“Is that safe?” Rex pushes himself up to look you in the eye, finally slipping out of you, somewhat to your disappointment. 

Your knee jerk reaction was to get defensive. Sure, you’d only recently gotten better, but you had still been fully capable before that. If not for evil versions of the strongest hero on earth you wouldn’t have been in this position to begin with. But it still happened. You had to remind yourself of the look on Rex’s face when you first returned to consciousness. The begrudging acceptance in Cecil’s voice over the intercomms when you’d begged to save Rex. Your own internal acceptance of the inevitable. And now you had a second shot.

“I will let you know if it starts to feel like too much. I don’t even feel it right now.” You admit the last part with a shrug. It’d been a while since healing people gave you even the smallest twinge of pain, but it hadn’t been so long ago you’d forgotten completely. Obviously Rex hadn’t either. 

He relaxes a little, but sits back up now, obviously troubled. 

“What are you thinking about?” You hum, pushing yourself up with your elbows.

He looks hesitant, mouth curved downward in a small frown. Fingers deftly picking at the fabric of the blanket below you. Each moment he doesn’t respond would have filled you with anxiety if it wasn’t slowly dawning on you the weight of this moment. You hadn’t died. Rex hadn’t died. You could kiss him and he could kiss you back. It made every problem feel insignificant after that. 

So, instead of pressuring him, you stood up. The sweat, saliva, and multiple other substances at your skin weighed heavily. “You think about it, and I’ll take a shower.” You gave him an over exaggerated, flirty wink. “Or join.”

The concern etched in his expression faded instantly. You were speaking his language. 

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

You got through the shower with minimal distraction, mostly because of your mutual exhaustion from your earlier activities. Not that it stopped Rex from fooling around a little anyways. Conversation flowed easily about the unimportant things. 

Rex’s few boxes of things were stacked against a wall in the living room. You’d told him you’d move some things around in your room so that he could officially move in. He’d been nearly giddy at that, rushing to grab the boxes before you’d even finished dressing. It’d taken only an hour to consolidate. He had concerningly few belongings for someone his age, something you were determined to remedy with time. 

Finally, the two of you settled into bed. Rex’s arm threaded over your stomach, pulling you up against him as tightly as possible, his legs tangling between yours. If he could, you thought Rex would be happy merging himself into you, any need for space thrown out the window. You wondered at how disappointed he must feel that no matter how close he was, there would still be some amount of space, no matter how miniscule. 

He’d been lazily kissing the back of your neck, inhaling the scent of your soap as if it was the last time he’d be able to. 

“Rex?”

“Mhm?” He sighed, the plush of his lips caressing your skin in a way that drew up goosebumps.

“We have to quit.”

He’s quiet, his movement’s slowing but not ceasing. “I know.” He finally responds, defeat layering in his tone. 

“Can you quit?” You ask softly, your hand trailing over the skin of his arm hooked over your abdomen. 

He takes a breath. “I think so. I mean, I’ll have you, and we’ll be alive for the time being. What more can I need?” 

“A lot.” You admit, drawing a shape on his forearm.

“There’s nothing else.” You feel him shake his head against you, pressing his forehead to the top of your spine.

“But will you be happy?”

“Yes.” He responds immediately. “I can be more than just a hero. More than just Rex Splode.” 

“Okay.” Is all you can think to say. You’d known what he was saying now all along, but it was a relief to know that he finally saw it too. He’d always been more, and always would be.

Comfortable silence falls between you both, filled only by the sounds of your apartment. The air vents idly pumping air, cars down on the streets below. The door of someone else’s apartment slamming shut somewhere down the hall. Rex’s heart beat, calm and consistent pressed up against your back. His breath ghosting against your shoulderblades. 

Peace. No headache. No blood rushing in your ears. No pain. 

“What do we do now?” Rex’s whisper enters the empty air, hushed into the plush skin at your shoulder. It doesn’t break the silence, or crash through your thoughts. It feels harmonious, it fits in where there’s space, and grounds you.

“I don’t know.” You admit. “Maybe we just have to take it day by day.” 

“So…Baby steps?” 

You smile to yourself, raising a hand to reach behind you to stroke his hair gently. He leans in, closing his eyes with a sigh. 

“Baby steps.” You affirm. 

Authors note: This ran a bit longer than I thought it would, making it one of the longest, if not the longest chapter in the whole fic, but in a way I think that's good. I wanted to tie up a lot of loose ends while also staying enjoyable, especially since this is kind of the last chapter. The next chapter will be an epilogue (albeit probably a pretty lengthy one). But this is the last normal chapter!! Thank you everyone who still comments and welcome to all the readers (Yes you who's reading this right now; Hi!!) And have a really fantastic day :3 I worked on this instead of studying for my finals 😭 literally graduate with my bachelors this weekend wthhhh

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 @0ut0fsweets @cheeyan @spidernuggets @sweet-cuddlebug @ohmysoultakemysoul @lapisbwub @velovicy @liquideyes @insirecrate @isnotraven @thatonegayloser616 @viovya @miss-ivy-kyle @kaillou66 @x-intothevoid-x @n0isypeech @mistyxc @not-a-robot1 @awenthealchemist @sakeeeee @zoiesturgis request to be tagged for new parts!

Crawling Back to You

Chapter thirty-three

Synopsis: Mark is attacking the Pentagon, and Chicago, and London...and the Teen Team Base? You have a lot of questions and no time for answers.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.3k

Chapter: 33/35

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW/CW: Intense situations, and fairly graphic gore and descriptions of harm

Note: Happy one year!! The long awaited Invinciwar chapter is here, and it's long as hell. Thank you @cheeyan for beta reading this on super short notice, you're amazing!!

Rae was officially moving out of the Teen Team base. Her car laid now nearly filled to the brim. Whatever was left was shoved in the trunk of yours. For every box placed in your trunk, you could swear you felt Rex’s anxiety peak just below the surface. Both of you still hadn’t made decisions for what you wanted to do. You wanted him to quit, he wanted you to quit, but neither could commit. It was a bitter dance back and forth with Rae caught in the middle, an innocent bystander who just wanted to get a start on her new life. You and Rex had both decided she’d waited long enough. Rae was manned with a key to your apartment hundreds of miles away, and determination to get there with or without you. She knew you‘d need more time to deliberate. Deciding to go back potentially meant leaving Rex. And if he did come, would he even be happy? 

The question had floated around in your head for days. What if you convinced Rex to quit, to live a simple domestic life, and he grew to hate you for it? Would it matter if he was alive only for him to be miserable for every second of it? On the reverse end of it, what if he convinced you to quit, and you were just as miserable? How many people could say they got to be a superhero? Could you really give it up this easily, after so many hours lost fighting for it? You’d wanted this so badly, once upon a time.

The questions weighed heavily on you both. It thickened the air to syrup, deafening the sounds of oncoming cars, and distracting you as Rae spoke.

“Are you listening?” 

“Hm—? Yes! Sorry…” You rubbed a hand against the nape of your neck, feeling vaguely embarrassed. What were you talking about with her?

“I was just making sure this was still okay.”

“If it wasn’t, we just did a hell of a lot of packing for no reason.” Rex groans with no semblance of real bite to his tone. 

Rae rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to you. “If you ever want me to move out or move anywhere, you got to let me know, okay?”

You nod, collect yourself and then nod much more sincerely. “Of course I’m sure, Rae. I wouldn’t have offered in the first place if I didn’t mean it.” You steal a glance over at Rex. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you just yet. I…” You trail off. You…what? You need more time? You’re waiting on Rex? What exactly would determine your return?

“I understand.” Rae wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you in for a hug. The tenderness in it has you melting into her, your own arms coming up behind her back to grasp her tightly. “You both deserve a chance to live.” The last part was whispered in your ear, a final ditch effort at convincing you in the moment. When she pulls away, her arms linger on your shoulders while she searches your eyes. 

For the first time in a long time, Rae looks soft. Her hair is lacking the windswept look of battle or the tacky residue of monitors in her hospital room. It’s soft, and tacked back with more effort than usual. Even her clothes seemed to have been picked with thought. It wasn’t the outfit of someone who might need to change into their suit in a moment's notice, but rather one that was meant to be admired. The steel frames of her glasses reflect the sun, turning golden. If you could take a snapshot of her right now you would. And you definitely try your best to. 

Rae gives you a final nod before turning to Rex. She gives him a hug too, albeit one that is far shorter. “Treat her well.” 

“I like to think I do an okay job—” He’s already raising a brow at her, which is quickly joined by the other one when Rae gives him the nastiest glare you never thought she was capable of. “Okay, sheesh!”

“I expect calls from you both, and I hope you know I’ll bother you until a decision is made.” Rae speaks while turning to close the trunk of her car. It’s not able to close at first from the sheer amount of possessions held within, but she forces it with a final shove. “I’ll make sure the apartment doesn’t get too trashed from my excessive partying.”

You chuckle at this. “With what friends?”

“Zandale will have no problem showing up when I call.” She smirks, folding her arms, leaning against the back of her car. 

“If you let Zandale, of all people, trash the apartment, I will be more than a little disappointed in you. You’ve got to be at least a little less predictable.”

“Fine, let me think—”

“Does he go to your apartment often?” Rex’s voice interrupts with an entirely too artificial air of aloofness. Both of you turn to him in sync, forcing an awkward laugh from his lungs. 

“Are you seriously getting jealous over Zandale?” Rae sounds more than completely unimpressed. You find it a little cute, you’d missed him. Stupid questions, and ridiculous jealousy all together.

“I think it’s a valid question!”

“It’s not.” Rae deadpans. 

You’re close to putting Rex out of his misery, an inkling of affirmation set to cross the boundaries of your lips. But it never comes out. Rae’s expression tenses with confusion, and Rex reaches for you, then in an instant they’re both gone.

Or, more accurately, you’re gone. Blue static stings your vision, leaving bright halos over your plain of sight. The blue clashes with the now dim red lighting surrounding you. A hand had grasped around your wrist, leaving behind something that you dully registered as a bracelet clasped against your skin. A crash from somewhere behind you distracts you from investigating further, making you raise your arms in front of your face. A faint green star blurs across your vision, heading towards the sound. The armored suit of a GDA agent. The person who had brought you. You must be in the pentagon. 

Another crash sounds, much louder, and sirens start to blare. If you were able to form a coherent thought you’d have stopped the agent, frozen him with your powers and demanded to know what was going on. But you couldn’t seem to get a full grasp on what was happening around you. The sirens are louder now. Muddied with the sound of something else. 

The hall you’re in is completely empty. The agent is long gone. It stretches far behind and before you, branching into other pathways at each end. A scream pierces through the alarm. One at first, then several. Footsteps like a stampede have you looking forward again in time to see a crowd of people approaching. Their faces are panicked, and as quickly as they rush you, they pass by. No interest in anything but escaping. 

Your eyes finally adjust in time to see what looked alarmingly like Donald, thrown across the end of the hall. Another figure follows far too quickly for your dazed mind to follow. A louder crash shakes the walls around you. That’s enough to finally pull you together. You’re springing into action, sprinting to the end of the hall only to drop to the ground as rubble showers in your direction. 

Your hands slide forward on the tin floor, coating with a sticky warm substance you were all too familiar with. A few inches away from your hand is a dismembered arm. Somewhere beneath the large wedge of stone must be a person. You slide your hand back, swallowing down the residual bile forming from your quick teleportation trip, and the smell of something rotting mixed with another distinct scent you can’t place. The blood coating your hands looked fresh. It was still warm. The smell of rot couldn’t be from this. 

A small clatter has you turning to your right. There’s a gaping hole where the wall had been. In the dim lighting you can’t make out what’s in there, but even worse than that, you can’t feel anything in there. It wouldn’t be as concerning if you didn’t hear the scraping of metal just now from down below. 

Something akin to an explosion interrupts your thoughts. It originates from further down the hall, snapping your attention back to the original matter at hand. Donald was being held by his throat, several feet off the ground by…Mark Grayson? Digging your hands into the rubble to push yourself up, you lurched forwards. The blood coating your digits pulls in every speck of dirt and rubble it can, turning your grip grainy. Adrenaline pumps through your veins as you watch Donald punch Mark in the face over and over. Mark flinched slightly each time, but kept Donald in the air, his mouth moving to say something you couldn’t make out. 

You held a hand out toward them both as you ran, attempting to avoid the rubble and gore that must have been the demise of an agent moments before you arrived. There wasn’t enough time to stop and assess the situation. Donald couldn’t die. Not now. You weren’t quite close enough yet to feel Mark but it was within your gasp. Just a few more feet and—

Donald was thrown, face first, over Mark’s shoulder as he noticed you. 

Your blood turned cold. The way Mark was looking at you only reminded you how powerful he was. And how weak you were. It made you feel like prey. A gazelle in the path of a cheetah. You are so far out of depth. 

What was he doing? He was one of the good guys, why was he attacking the pentagon? Was it because of what Cecil did? No, he’d never kill agents like this. At least you really hoped not. 

Mark floated toward you. Slow. Your heart was racing to the point that you thought you might pass out. But you can’t move. If he just gets a little closer— And then he is closer. You can feel him. The calm rate of his heartbeat beneath the hardshell of a uniform you’ve never seen him in. In fact, the closer he got, the more different he looked. He had Mark’s face, but his hair was a completely different style, even his posture felt entirely un-Mark. 

Something you didn’t have the leisure to consider at this very second. The scraping from earlier had returned, much closer behind you and much louder. But you couldn’t look back. Your dominant hand was still held out in front of you, fingers curled in a grabbing motion. You could feel him. But you couldn’t grasp him. Shit. 

“What are you doing?” Mark scoffed, giving you an incredulous look. Perhaps the only reason he hadn’t attacked you yet was because you looked so peculiar. 

“I’m wondering the same thing.” You sighed out, keeping your dominant hand up, and joining it with your other hand. He was at the tip of your grasp. If you could push just a bit further. 

“Okay, I’m bored—” His words were cut off by the sound of a blaster of some sort. It hit him square in the back, sending him forward a foot. He turned slowly, the motion enough for you to see Donald lying on the ground with a weapon drawn. His glasses were mangled but somehow still on his face,which was equally mangled. Flayed skin giving way to mechanical plating tinged in blood. 

Donald’s a…robot? 

You shake the millions of questions rising to your mind, and instead focus on the fact Mark is just that much closer from the blast. Your subconscious is almost connected, you’re about to dip into him, the warmth ghosting over your hands, and then— Mark surged forward, grabbing Donald again and shoving him down until the floor bent to his force. You’re moving again before you can think better of it, grabbing Mark’s shoulder and yanking him back. A mistake. Mark’s arm shoots out, hitting you square in the chest and sending you into the wall behind you. 

It forces the breath out of your lungs, and for a brief second you wonder if you’re going to die. Your lungs hesitate to let you take in any air. Your knees hit the ground, only registering in your oxygen deficient brain with the feeling of your blood rushing to heal the abrasions caused by the rocks you just landed on. Gasping, you force yourself up again. Donald is grabbing at Mark’s hands, scraping with his nails. When that proves to be fruitless, he reaches up to Mark’s face, attempting to gouge out Mark’s eyes with his thumbs. 

What the fuck is happening?!

Just as you’re about to reach them again, multiple shapes blur past before you. The rotting scent returned, alongside that scent you couldn’t quite place earlier. Formaldehyde. Glowing circles shine through the red light, reflecting off the skin of multiple ReAnimen that have now grabbed onto Mark, pulling him off of Donald. 

Their jaws clamp down on Mark, pulling at his skin. He cries out, throwing one off after the other, but they return as quickly as he tosses them. While he’s distracted, you slide over to Donald. He’s somehow sitting up, even after all the force that must have just been put on him. His entire throat should have collapsed. 

“Donald, what the fuck is going on!” You hiss it out while trying to help him out. 

“Cecil thought you might be able to make a dent while his guys worked on rebooting the sound systems.” His teeth are gritted, but he sounds mostly fine. He’s even able to stand, which shocks you further. 

“Donald, what are you—” 

“Look out!” Donald shoved you back as a Reaniman hurled through the ground right where you had been standing. It’s back up again in a matter of moments, leaping back towards Mark. That could have crushed you. This was insane. Every bit of this was absolutely insane. But you don’t have time to think about that now. You turn back toward Mark, lifting your hand again to hone in on his lifesource once more. It’s closer. You just have to push through. 

The ReAnimen aren’t doing nearly as much damage as anyone would have liked. They can’t latch onto him long enough to do any damage of consequence. You just needed to freeze him, even for a few seconds. You close your eyes, mentally knitting your fingers through his skin. The blood forms like strings you can pull and twist. It doesn’t work. But you repeat the visualization twice more, a dull ache making itself known at the base of your skull. 

There you go.

“What the—” Mark goes rigid, his arms tightening in at his sides. It’s just enough for the ReAnimen to get their grasp. One sinks its teeth into the hollow of his throat, another into his arm, and the final one into his calf. The one at his calf grinds its teeth, sinking deeper until Mark screams out in pain. It yanks back, bringing a sizable piece of Viltrumite meat with it. 

Blood gushed out from the massive wound. It floods down the remaining plating of his suit, spraying the floor. Shit! You can feel your control waning with the loss of blood. It’s slipping, and slipping quickly. 

Mark moves one of his arms, grabbing the ReAniman at his throat, and yanks it off. He uses the same arm, and grasps onto the head of the ReAniman attached to his arm that’s still locked down. Even with only one hand, he flexes his digits. Fingers sink into the metal of the ReAniman’s head until the bright red eye starts to flicker and crack. Its whole body goes limp. 

Another dull ache pounds against your brainstem, forcing you to grimace. Your residual hold, already weakened, slips completely. Mark snatches the last ReAniman, takes both hands and places them on each side of its head. Even from where you were standing, you could hear the sickening sound of the metal being forced to budge. 

You held out your hand again, trying and failing to make another connection. Once he was done with those ReAnimen, you and Donald were next. What could you do? What could you—

Blaring shrieking initiated from the comm system. It’s piercing, but manageable. At least for you. 

Mark immediately crumples. The ground shakes from the impact of how hard he goes down. His hands are pressed to his ears as he cries out. The two remaining ReAnimen converge back on him. Hiding him completely from your view. Several more appear at the end of the hallway, running at inhuman speeds to join in dogpilling Mark. The sounds of their fists meeting flesh gains a sloshy finish as skin gives way to hardened muscle. 

You couldn’t move. Should you let them kill Mark? He was— well he was Mark! Invincible! One of the people you looked up to most. Did he have a good reason for doing this? What if you’d just accidentally helped him to his death and it was somehow unwarranted? 

You take a step forward and Donald grabs your arm near your shoulder, pulling you back again. You spin back to question him just as you hear a defining crack. You don’t have to look to know that was the end. It sends a shiver over your skin, making you feel heavier at all the places blood clings to you. The ReAnimen don’t stop. Their fits smashing and clawing with no sign of halting. Mark’s blood splashing toward the ceiling, slicking the metal helmets, and pooling around them on the floor. 

“Okay, stop. Jesus, he’s dead.” Cecil approached from behind you and Donald, his fist clenched around a control that looked very similar to the one he’d had during your fight at The Guardians HQ. He moves towards the scene, his hand held up until a shock overrides the controller. The shrieking tone halts, and Cecil drops the object, shaking out his hand with a groan. “Perfect.”

Without so much as a glance in your direction, Donald moves to Cecil’s side. “The team thinks they’re from alternate dimensions where Mark isn’t so… Mark.”

Alternate dimensions? They?

“No shit.” Cecil turns, his eyes landing on you. One of his eyes is nearly swollen shut, rapidly drying blood spread from his nose down the front of his dress shirt. Mark…or this Mark, must have gotten to him before you arrived. “Thank you for your help.”

Help? You hardly did anything. You nodded deftly, staring down at the crushed remains of what you’d thought up until a few moments ago, was Mark Grayson. The pulp remaining from the ReAnimen’s assaults was hardly recognizable. Mangled teeth meshed with the gyri of what was originally his brain. The deep brown of one iris stared at the ceiling from where it rested on top of a fuzzy mat of clumped hair. You couldn’t see where the other one had gone. 

“How many of these nightmares are out there?”

“At least eighteen.” Donald responds to Cecil. “Reports are still spotty, but they seem to just be destroying whatever they can. No pattern or plan that we can detect.”

“So no way to predict what they’re gonna do next, either.”

“There is some good news, sir. This Invincible definitely wasn’t as strong as ours.”

Cecil pauses, his gaze resting on you. “Then maybe we have a chance.” 

You aren’t sure how to respond. Just before this you had been deliberating if you should leave this life. Now you’d been quite literally dragged back into it by your former boss. Who, you still weren’t sure how to feel about anymore in the most ideal of situations. 

“Start getting the boys to make more of those noisemakers and get the room back up and running. We need to respond.”

“Sir…The engineering wing is gone. And how exactly do we respond to this?” Donald finally seems to remember you’re there. “It’s one thing to bring her in an emergency, but we can’t put her against the others alone.”

Cecil hesitates. “Then we make calls.”

“To who?” Donald’s voice lowers. 

“To everyone, Donald. Everyone.” 

“Does anyone even stand a chance?” Your voice comes out in a hushed whisper, far meeker than you had meant. Snapping through the tension of your silence. 

Neither answer right away. Both of them looking down at the remains before you. 

“Someone has to. Or we won’t have to worry about it for long.”

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

The world is ending. You had hoped it wouldn’t be in your lifetime, but with everything that had been happening the past few years, you had figured it might be. In the back of your mind it was inevitable. But this was really soon. Every single major news channel blared about superheroes who appear to be to be Invincible, decimating cities. New York, England, Chicago— It was forcing the air from your lungs. Any residual anger towards Cecil most assuredly had no leg to stand on in the given moment. Too much was happening. 

Only a few Pentagon employees have stayed behind, or survived, to operate the boardroom. Cecil is leaning over a computer, his hand splayed out on the desk. You watch the hundreds of smaller displays flash across the giant screen at the front of the room. Scenes of different suited superhumans ripping through buildings like paper. Whole monuments on fire. 

Cecil had been right. If you’d made it to Mark all those months ago when that other Vilturmite was here, you would have been powerless. You were hardly able to freeze the Mark from earlier. You’d gotten insanely lucky. If he had decided to end you right then, you would have been powerless to stop him. Donald at least was somehow much tougher than he seemed. Maybe at a later date you’d inquire about the metal skeleton that was completely bare in several parts of his body. Right now, it wasn’t even in the top ten things on your mind. 

Cecil was quiet, save for muttered curses every few minutes as he switched between satellite images. The most recent one revealing two hovering figures over two others who were on the ground. One clutching the other. Cecil turned to another computer, pulling up another angle. “Shit.” He reared back, shouting to one of the remaining workers at the computers in the back of the room. “Send ReAnimen to these coordinates.”

“Sir, the teleporter is running on—”

“Now!”

The woman nodded, focusing again on her screen. 

You took a closer look at what Cecil had been looking at. Upon closer examination, you realized the two figures were Eve and Mark. The real Mark, you hoped. He was clutching her to his chest. She didn’t look conscious.

“ReAnimen dropping in, three, two—”

“Now, Goddamn it!” Cecil barked. 

You watched the screen as four ReAnimen dropped from the sky, the sizzling blue light of the teleporter not caught on the cameras. A drone had been dropped as well, it approached Mark, giving a better view of the two of them, as well as Eve’s injuries. 

Her leg had been completely snapped. Ligaments and tendons standing stiffly, curled like tree roots, where they should have been intertwined underneath her knee. 

 “Mark, bring her in! Quick!” Cecil urged into the mic sitting before the computer. Mark didn’t need to be told twice, he was gone off the screen so quick that it was as if he was never there to begin with. 

“Sir,” Donald’s voice picked up, jolting you from your concentration. “With this body, I can do more out there, than in here.”

That had you thinking. Finally thinking. You should be out there. If not to help against the different Invincibles, at least to help with evacuation. You were still a healer. And, for now, you were still a hero. 

“You’re just gonna get yourself killed, Donald.” Cecil murmurs, looking at Donald out of the corner of his eye. The scar trailing from his mouth pulls downward with his frown.

“That’s what I do, sir.” 

Tension fills the room. You’re suddenly shifting to settle beside Donald–a quiet admittance of your plan to join him. Cecil’s stare flickers to you. “You’ll die.” It has much more finality to it than his statement to Donald had. Even if you weren’t immediately ripped to bits by any of the Invincibles, you still weren’t supposed to over extend again. That ticking clock is always passing in your subconscious. 

“Maybe. But as you said, someone has to do something. Or we won’t be able to worry about who can for long, right?”

“‘Someone’ doesn’t have to be you.” 

When did he get so soft? It was your life. Shouldn’t you be the one most nervous it would end? “I think in this case, it does.” You offer him the best smile you can conjure in the moment. “Besides, I think I might be able to make a quicker connection to the next one, if we see another Invincible.”

“If you see another Invincible, you are not to engage.” Cecil instructs sternly. He stands up straight, dragging his hand over the surface of the desk.

You don’t respond to that, only offering another tight lipped smile. 

Cecil looks you both over, then sighs, pinching his brow. “Someone grab Killdeer a suit and an earpiece from the remains of the R&D floor.” One of the employees at the back scurries off. You’d figured that you’d just go as you were. At the very least now you’d be operating anonymously, even with how dire the situation was. “Find Britt. Link up with him. And give ‘em hell.”

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

To say it was a warzone out there would be an under exaggeration. Haze laid so heavy in the air that your body didn’t know what to do with it. None of your regenerative abilities were strong enough to purify the very oxygen in your lungs, but you also couldn’t turn it off. It proved to be a consistent drain of your stamina, a small leak that wasn’t concerning now but could prove to be if this kept on for too long. 

Heroes you’d never heard of, or seen before, made guest appearances now and again in the throws of the wreckage. You’d managed to save a fair amount of people, but more than that, you’d seemed to unearth an innumerable amount of corpses. It started each time with the glimpse of an arm or leg, underneath fallen debris. If you couldn’t lift it, Donald would come to assist after you yelled for him. Only to find the person crushed completely. Sometimes they were fully intact. Other times they were pulverized. Messes of carmine mounds, ivory bones jutting upwards like the left over foundations of the desecrated building all around. No matter how different the bodies were, they all looked one way at the end. They looked dead. 

You’d used your powers sparingly, only healing people when it would be dire if you didn’t. Even with the leak, you weren’t doing too bad. A small headache had formed behind your temple, discomfort ebbing onto pain, but not quite there. You were doing good. You didn’t want to get too confident, but it seemed like you’d really skate by without an episode. 

“There’s another one over here.” You called out to Donald after pulling at the rubble without it budging. It would never fail to be a thorn in your side to not have an impressive amount of super strength. Stronger than the average person was nothing really to brag about. You could lift the people with ease, but a couple hundred to thousand pound debris? Forget it.

Donald didn’t respond. You’d last seen him a few yards back, checking out the remains of a convenience store. Britt, who’d originally been with you with his own crew, had split in an attempt to find the most people. Every now and again you heard his voice over the comms, but mostly they were silent.

“I’ll be right back!” You weren’t sure the person was still conscious, but on the off chance they were, you didn’t want them to think you were abandoning them. Sprinting, you quickly approached where you had last seen Donald. Food products were strewn throughout the area. The cash register had been crushed in whatever had destroyed the place. Bills shifted in the wind, catching on crevices and drifting off in the wind. It was so desolate out, there wasn’t anyone to pick through it. 

Donald must have wandered a little further—

The reverbs of a crash echo against the walls around you. It makes you jolt, pushing you back into action as you dash in the direction of the new sound. The buildings were still unstable. It took very little persuasion for them to completely collapse, if they hadn’t already. One could have just dropped. You needed to be sure that Donald wasn’t underneath it. 

The second you step out onto the street, you’re thrown back, a gust of air taking you off your feet. A millisecond later, all the glass on that street shatters, raining down on the ground around you and on top of you. Your head aches severely, but not from the residual effects of your power. Trailing a hand over the back of your head, you feel the warm thickness of blood, and the hard surface of bone. Fingers dip into the crevice of a wound just as it hems itself shut. 

That was bad. You’re still seeing stars and it's only made worse by the pounding behind your eyes. Another crash brings you back onto your feet just in time to see the blurred form of an Invincible passing by again, this time much slower. He glides with jerky movements as several shots find their mark against him. Donald passes in view, another blaster pressed to his shoulder and pointed upward. It might as well have been a rocket launcher with the strength and caliber of shots exiting it. 

You push forward again, raising a hand towards the retreating form. You could control him. You knew you could. That click from all those months ago couldn’t have meant nothing. If it did, then…Then you really were nothing special to begin with. 

The Invincible is getting too far, too high up. You’re nervous he might take off and go find somewhere else to decimate. Before you can finish the thought, a crack of lightning fills the air, striking through the Invincible. It's blinding in the moment that it happens, making you snap your head to the side to look away. When you look back, the Invincible is on the ground. What were the chances he just happened to be struck by lightning? Was luck really that far on your side?

Luck revealed himself before you could consider further. A man with blonde hair in a black and red suit. He practically flew at the Invincible, straddling him. The unnamed man placed his hands around the Invincible’s throat, and began to shock him. The air brimmed with the unnatural sound of cries mingled with the static shock of electricity. Even though you knew it wasn’t Mark, it was hard to watch. 

Donald speeds past you in their direction. You move to follow, only for the Invincible to shove off the electricity-bearing hero and attempt to fly off. The man grabs his leg before he can get away, taking off with him. 

And then they’re gone. You watch as they disappear into a small spec in the sky. Hopefully that guy ends up okay. 

“Are you alright?” You turn to Donald. It’s still jarring to see him without half of his face.

“I manage.” His blue optical lens scans the sky, watching to see if the Invincible would return. “We should keep moving.”

You nod deftly, moving to follow, then freeze. “Oh, shit! Donald, come help me!” You didn’t wait for his response, bolting back to where you’d originally been standing. The person you found earlier, you needed to get them out before leaving the area. 

Donald complies in near silence, following you with equal haste and moving the rubble once you return to that spot. Before only the person’s shoe had been visible, not crushed, but you couldn’t risk trying to pull them out without knowing to what extent they were pinned. If you weren’t careful you could easily pull someone's leg off like that. 

“I’m sorry.” Donald was obstructing your view, his movement halted. 

“Sorry?” You moved forward, taking in the scene yourself. “Oh.” The person was most definitely dead. For some reason, this one shocked you. After seeing so much carnage today, you didn’t think that anything could really get you. But this one was different. 

“We need to keep moving.” Donald moved off to your left, scouting the remainder of the area before pushing further away.

You could only stare. Eyes unblinking.

The boy had red hair. 

It wasn’t quite Rex’s shade, but it was close. His left arm twisted unnaturally over his head in a way that suggested his shoulder was dislocated. His bottom half was completely severed from his top at the hips. Innards strew across the ground to connect the two. The coils of his stomach spilled out completely from him, speckled with dirt and dust from the debris. 

You’d been so focused on the bigger problems that you’d forgotten. If all of these Invincibles had the same memories as your Mark, or similar. Then they’d know about the Guardians Headquarters, and worse than that, they’d know about the Teen Team base. 

Where’s Rex?

You fumbled to retrieve your phone. The screen was cracked, from which time you got thrown, you had no idea. It still turned on, thankfully. With shaky hands, and a dry mouth, you dialed Rex. With each ring of the dial tone, you kept your gaze on the civilian. It was hard to think clearly with how bad your head hurt, but it felt more than easy to push through while waiting for Rex to pick up.

Hey! It’s Rex, I can’t or won’t pick up the phone. Don’t bother leaving a message!

Fuck. “Cecil?” You pressed your finger to the earpiece, opening up for transmission. After a few moments of silence you felt your panic begin to bubble to the surface. “Cecil!”

The static was pierced by the exact voice you needed to hear from. “Make it quick, kid. A lot of shit is going on.”

“Where’s Rex?”

“Seriously? We have bigger problems right now—”

“Cecil! Where is Rex!?” You choked back a sob, holding one hand to your ear and the other to your pulsing temple. 

Static lasts for another few seconds, and just as you’re about to yell again, Cecil answers. “It looks like him and the rest of your crew are at the Teen Team base.”

“Are they safe?”

Another pregnant pause. One that told you all you needed to know. 

“Send me.” You stand up straight, pushing down emotion pulling your throat tighter. You weren’t sure where he could see you from, but you were sure he could. Turning in a small circle you held your wrist up that still had the transportation bracelet. “I know you can do it! Send me there!” All you could hear was your own heart beat and the blood rushing behind your ears. A splitting sensation wrecks through you, any notion to pretend it didn’t happen if Cecil was looking was immediately forgotten as it intensified, dragging you down onto your knees. It hurts. Everything fucking hurts. “Cecil, please.” The words fall from your lips in soft broken sobs. Whether you were begging for his help to ease your pain, or to help Rex, you couldn’t tell now. It felt like you were devolving. A small child with a skinned knee on the playground, begging for your parents. 

“Your suit still has censors in it.” Cecil’s voice rings out over your earpiece, finally responding to your desperate pleas. “You know I can’t send you anywhere in the condition you’re in.”

You take a deep breath in an attempt to regulate your breathing, and clear your mind. Rex was in danger. This wasn’t up for discussion. “Yes, you can.” You grit the words out, pulling yourself up to prop up against an overturned car. Something was rising in your throat with every new throb of your head. You hoped it was bile rather than blood, or you had a lot less time than you thought. “Cecil, you owe me.”

“I don’t owe to you letting you kill yourself, kid.”

Heat spreads down your lip into your mouth. You reached up, using the wrist of your suit to wipe with the clearest section you could reach. 

Nosebleed. 

This was it. The realization dawned on you rapidly. You don’t have time for this. “I’m done for anyways. It’s started.” 

Static floods out of the earpiece. Meaning Cecil has pressed the corresponder, but he isn’t speaking. He knows as well as you do that you’re right. 

“If this is it, you’ve got to let me try to help him. To help them.” You were almost surprised by how calm you sounded now, after almost breaking down moments ago. That tranquility didn’t reach past your exterior, however. You were… scared. 

“We can still fix it.”

“There’s no time, Cecil. Bigger problems, remember?”

A sigh echoes through your connection. It’s filled with frustration, but at the same time, acceptance. 

“I only have enough juice left in the transporter for one trip. Once you’re there, I can’t pull you out again. It’ll be burnt.”

“I won’t need to be pulled out.” 

“...I know.” You could almost see how Cecil was standing in your head. One hand pressed to the desk while the other pinched the bridge of his nose. It made you smile, as much as you could in the state you were in. The sound of your name garbles over the signal. “It’s been an honor.”

You hesitate, taking a deep breath before pushing yourself up to stand straight. “I’ll tell you how I feel when I see you again.” Too much to say, too little time. It was something you’d regret. But then again, the way things were going, you probably wouldn’t be able to regret anything. Not from where you’re headed.

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

You’re left dazed by the sudden teleportation. The moment you’re settled in the new environment, you heave, spilling your guts on the ground in front of you. Blood. Just what you’d feared. Less and less time than you would have liked. A shock travels up your wrist, pushing you to hiss out in pain. The lights on your transport bracelet flickered, then dimmed completely. No going back.

Trudging forward, you catch yourself against one of the metal pillars that supports the ceiling of the Teen Team base. Ahead of you lies a battle ground. Dashes of copper shavings and scraps litter piles of rubble. Luckily, you didn’t immediately notice any corpses.

“I know you’re in one of these.” A foreign Invincible held what looked to be the last of Rudy’s copper suits in the air by its throat. “Let’s see if we hit the jackpot.”

You feel dizzier by the second, head still nearly splitting from your previous attacks, and now only worse from the jolt of teleportation. If you had anything left in your stomach, you would have heaved it out against your will. It was hard enough to keep your blood contained inside your body for the time being. Somehow, even more difficult than that, is trying to take it all in. Your surroundings are overwhelming against the throbbing of your brain. It’s a struggle to hear what’s being said, to look around for those near you. 

Where was he?

Where was Rex?

Your legs were like jelly, have been since you first arrived, and maybe even before that. It’s hard to remember. Every step you take forward must be calculated. Shards of splintered metal stick through the soles of your suit, piercing the pads of your feet. Blinking through the glaze covering your eyes, you force yourself to focus. You can hear voices, they’re all around you, but you can’t clearly make them out.

“You are aware I can control my drones remotely.” Robot. Rudy. Somewhere up ahead. Your vision comes in bursts of clarity, fading in and out.

“Yeah, but I also know you well enough that I can hear a little bit of fear in your voice, robo-buddy.”

“I assure you, you are mistaken—” The shriek of metal being ripped open has you covering your ears. It struck straight to your pulsing brain, sending shocks of agony down your spine. The sound lasted only a second, but was enough to have you crumbling down to your knees. The shards of metal there now embedding in through the fabric of your suit. Your body pushes itself, immediately jumping at the opportunity to heal your new injuries, but that only hurts more.

“Woah! Who the hell are you?” The Mark grabbed Rudy by the front of his suit, holding him in the air, struggling. “Where’s the other little troll guy?”

You force your eyes to open, looking up at the scene half a room across from you. In a small moment of clarity, you swear you meet eyes with Rudy. He looks like he might shout something but is distracted by something behind this Invincible’s head. “No! Don’t! Get Amanda and Rex out of here!”

Bulletproof sweeps in from behind, grasping the intruder and smashing both of them through the kitchen wall. Dust erupts from the entry point, rocks even cascading over to where you are towards the other end of the vast area.

You slouch forward, hands pressing out in front of you to keep from crashing into the hard metal plating of the Teen Team headquarters. Rex is here. And in this instance, you swear you’ve never understood Rudy more. He saw you, and he knows you. Who knows how long he’s known, maybe all along. He’s always been smart. But he knows you’re the best chance here.

You know that you’re the best chance. None of your insecurities matter, what matters is that you have an inkling of a chance. You’d been able to freeze that one earlier, why should this one be any different? You have to push through, have to focus on the life form in front of you.

You have to.

But, you can’t seem to raise your head.

Blood is tricking down your face. You aren’t sure where from. Could be your nose. It was already bleeding earlier. Could be your eyes. The metallic iron returns fresh to coat your tongue. You can’t stop it from seeping out of your mouth, drool and blood dripping into small drops on the ground.

Bulletproof’s form soars overhead, but not in flight. He was being thrown. Directly into the roof of the base. More rubble falls from overhead. Rudy is muttering something from nearby, he must have been thrown there when Bulletproof charged Invincible.

“Please be breathing—” Chanted. A mantra of battle. Amanda must be close.

Loud gasping catches your attention enough for you to look up, it takes every ounce of energy. Your elbows buckle now, as the side of your face collides with the floor of the base. The rapidly cooling splash of your own blood meets you. A steady flow is pouring from you now, it chokes you, blurs your vision and clouds your hearing. Your body heaves again, but you don’t have enough strength to expel blood and brain matter completely. The mixture sits in your throat and sinuses, filling your lungs when you try to breathe.

Groans seep through the sounds of Zandale still being used as a wrecking ball through other walls in the base. Groans, you unfortunately recognize. You knew he was here. You knew it already, but somehow you’d still hoped deep down that he wasn’t. That’d he’d escaped.

“Oh, man.” Another gasped groan. “This guy’s really gonna get it.”

“Rex, we’ve lost. We need to go now.” Actual panic laces Rudy’s tone, something you haven’t heard before. “Help me carry Amanda—”

“You’re better off with the guy who can fly.”

You want to scream. Draw his attention, tell him to go, beg him to go. After all, what else had you come for?

…What else had you come for?

Why had you come at all? You were starting to get hazy on that now. Cecil had sent you. Cecil had helped you…Hadn’t he? You were…You were going to do something…

“Hey! Take your obvious name and get them out of here—!” You barely register an explosion, triggered by one of Rex’s gadgets. Somewhere overhead.

Were you invisible? He sounded so close. If only you could lift your head… Then you could…something.

Everything was slipping. Like sand through your fingers. Rudy said something, a cloud of shouts that you would never know. Another heave passed through your body, forcing the mixture to expel from your throat as your body went slack. Your consciousness leaving you.

˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗

“We’re not leaving you!” Rudy shouted, his grip tightening around Amanda’s shoulder.

“No. It’s okay, I’ve got a plan.” He forces out every single breath, throwing every disk in his possession towards the imposter. “Tell…Tell…” His voice falters at the sight of something in the corner of his eye. Crimson pooling out from behind a pillar. A boulder worth of concrete hurls past him, towards where Bulletproof is. In a flash, he’s gone. So much for a proper goodbye. He throws a charged baton. It lands, hitting the foreign Invincible square in the chest.

A distraction long enough for Rex to advance a few steps. Something he immediately wishes he had done sooner. In a growing pool of blood, knowing her it was probably her own, lies the crumpled form of his girlfriend. He’d tried so hard to get in contact with her earlier but nothing would go through. The only thing that had put him vaguely at ease was a message from the GDA saying that she was safe and with them. Which even that, he hadn’t really believed. Why grab her without warning? The pieces had only started to fit together when the attack started on the Teen Team Base. If there were more of these fuckers, that meant she might be able to do something. But, why was she here? When did she get here?

Any amount of false confidence he had was stolen alongside his breath. She wasn’t here. She couldn’t be here. She was with Cecil. How—?

“Well…that was stupid.” The other Mark hovered down right in front of Rex. His back to where Killdeer was. Good. He wasn’t sure what to do now, but it was good that he hadn’t noticed her. Shit! What could he do?

What should he do?

“Everything about this is stupid.” He choked, wrenching his eyes from the corner before he gave her away. His emotions were all over, running a million miles a second. He was happy to see her, he couldn’t help it on some level. It was his natural response to her. He was terrified. Terrified that Mark would notice, terrified she was already gone. And he was angry. She shouldn’t be here. Why was she here? “But I guess we’re doing it anyway.”

The variant cocked his head, his brow creasing beneath his goggles. He began to turn, following where Rex had just been looking.

No. Rex grabbed his goggles off of his head, charging them as much as they would take without instantaneously combusting in his hand. With a snap of the wrist, he hurled it at the variant, who brought his arms up in front of him to lessen the blow. It hardly made him budge. 

Mark lunged at Rex, only missing him by a few centimeters as he dodged. Rex grabbed a handful of rubble, loading it then sending it towards Mark. Charge, throw, repeat. Charge, throw, repeat. He had to think of something. Every throw was just more time for him to force the gears in his head to turn. He had to make sure that she made it. He couldn’t risk Mark killing him and then finding her if he couldn’t find a way to neutralize him permanently. He needed to have a back up plan. And a good one. 

The last toss of debris brought Mark down to the ground, effectively crashing him. Promising, but he wasn’t about to get his hopes up yet. Rex looked down at the floor plating, taking note of where it ended. She was a few feet back from it, which is all he needed to know. Crouching down, he pressed the plains of his palms to the cool surface. He watched as it physically began to glow with the energy he was forcing into it. It zapped his strength, made his muscles ache around where the implants were against his bones. He grunts, pushing just a bit more until the floor erupts into an explosion that swallows the variant before him.

The residual smoke fills the room, blinding Rex momentarily. But he can’t hear any movement. Taking a heaving breath he lets out a groaned chuckle. Could he really have—? 

The billowing smoke clears. “Fuck.” 

Mark is hovering above him, looking almost completely unharmed save for the shattered goggle lens over his left eye. That was a hell of a lot of energy to waste on a broken goggle. Before Rex can think of what to do next, the variant rushes him, snatching him by his throat and lifting him off of the ground. 

The variant sighs heavily. “That was pointless.” Now that Rex can see him up close, he can make out exactly how little damage he’s done. Besides the dust of smoke and the burnt tinge to certain areas of his suit, Mark looks completely unharmed. “Kind of like your entire life.”

His grip on Rex’s neck tightens marginally. A dull reminder that if he tried, Rex would be dead in seconds. The only thing saving him was his opponent's need to monologue. He coughed, the tang of iron coating his tongue.

“I’m going to pop your head off, and then I’m going to catch the others and skin them alive.” He laughs, it’s cold and dry. There’s no charade to his words, no bluff. He means every syllable of what he’s saying. 

Good to know Mark also was aware of just how quickly this could go. Rex groaned with effort, removing one hand from the Invincible’s wrist. He had to act. There was no time. If he was lucky Mark would just kill him and soar out of the base without looking back. But he was never much for luck. 

He could see her down below. Just over Mark’s shoulder. She hadn’t moved a single millimeter. What if she was already dead? The thought made his stomach lurch. It didn’t matter. He had to tell himself it didn’t matter. If there was a chance she was alive that was all he needed. Using his now free hand, he snaked it across his torso into the deep crevice of a wound he’d received earlier. It had broken a few of his ribs, pushing one into his lung, which was probably where the blood in his cough was coming from. He just needed to reach one. Hopefully one that was still connected to the rest of his skeleton, or his idea wouldn’t work. 

“Um, if you’re worried you’re gonna bleed to death before I kill you, you’re dumber than even the Rex from my world.” Mark’s brow furrowed with disgust, his mouth curling disdainfully around each word. 

The Rex from his world. It forced a soft chuckle from his lungs that devolved into a cough. If she could hear this she’d probably look horrified at the idea of more than one of Rex. But it brought him the smallest inkling of comfort. Maybe in another dimension, they were able to live happily. He’d be able to go through with his plans instead of just plotting them down in a magazine. Maybe he would have quit when she asked. And she would have quit when he asked. They were both far too stubborn. But he wouldn’t have wanted her to change a thing. If this was all he got to think about moments before his death. Then he’d die happy. What other way could he die when it was for her?

“Sure. But I’m the idiot who took you with me.

˗ˏˋ 𓅨 ˎˊ˗

The striking agony was so intense you weren’t sure how you’d regained consciousness. It had to be your body's last push. That final attempt at staying awake before the long sleep. It was so excruciating you weren’t sure you’d be able to move at all. But then…it faded. Almost as if you’d imagined it to begin with.

You pushed yourself up, the shrapnel sticking through the pads of your hands now a hardly registered afterthought. No different than grass tickling your ankles while walking through a meadow. You don’t even have to search to find Rex. He’s propped in the air, held by the throat by the Mark variant, above you. Contorting your expression with focus, you raise your dominant hand. Curved fingers trembling. It felt like time was moving slower. Rex’s hand shifted at his side, his fingers digging further into a wound he had received at some point during this battle. Why he was doing this, you weren’t sure. But you couldn’t spare the focus to wonder any further. 

This Mark was no different than yours. He was flesh and blood. He was a Viltrumite, nearly invulnerable. Denser than rock, and floating yards above you. It felt like he was getting further and further, or like your vision was narrowing. The edges blacking out until it was just those two you could see. 

And hear.

You can hear it. The calm pulse of a Viltrumite. Even if he was nearly all powerful, he was still merely flesh and blood. Invulnerable or not, you could sink your claws in. You could hear his weakness. You could hear…a second heart beat too. This one far more rapid. Familiar.

Rae had asked you months ago, if you could recognize someone by their heart beat. It seems you can. And it only hurts more to know that he’s scared. His face contorted in a grimace, an angry look that furrows his brow and grits his teeth. But nonetheless, he’s terrified. And you can’t bear it.

This is it.

There’s a small click in your subconscious. Warmth. It slides through your hands as you pull back, the phantom feeling of pulling out this Mark’s life source with your bare hands. It’s in your grasp, thick and sticky against your hands— You expected a scream, a yelp, anything, but instead all you hear is deafening silence. The kind that allows for a clear and audible rip of flesh. The skin of this Mark’s back. Followed only a few moments later by splattering. Dark crimson droplets cascading to the ground, and the thud of both bodies hitting it after. 

You want to stand, check on Rex, make sure he’s okay, make sure that you saved him. Heal him. But your clarity ends there. The piercing pain returns, stealing your breath and the remainder of your vision. You can’t scream, can’t cry. You can’t…breathe. Ringing, ringing, all around you, so intense it almost distracts you from the horrific pain. It penetrates through your eardrums that are clogged with already oxidizing blood.

Ringing, ringing, blaring, horribly ringing.

You can’t breathe.

Ringing, ringing, ringing

YOU CANT BREATHE—

And then… It's quiet. 

Windchimes. Windchimes on a farm out in the country, while you trail your hands over soft green grass. You’re not alone there anymore, he’s with you. And he’s happy too. It makes you smile.

You both could have quit.

Authors note: I can't believe it's really been a year since I started this. I've talked to so many people, and gained so much more traction than I ever imagined. If somehow any of you have been here since the very first upload, you're amazing and I admire you commitment! I'm not sure I would have even stuck around this long. Everyone has been so lovely and supportive. I really couldn't have kept this up without the comments people leave. So really, from the bottom of my heart, as a college student with no time partially because of this fic, thank you all. I read your comments to my friends and brother, like that's how serious this is lolll. Anyways!! sorry to get sappy. Love you all

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 @0ut0fsweets @cheeyan @spidernuggets @sweet-cuddlebug @ohmysoultakemysoul @lapisbwub @velovicy @liquideyes @insirecrate @isnotraven @thatonegayloser616 @viovya @miss-ivy-kyle @kaillou66 @x-intothevoid-x @n0isypeech @mistyxc @not-a-robot1 @awenthealchemist request to be tagged for new parts!

Istg I have been cracking tf UP the entire fic

THIS IS SUCH A COMPLIMENT OMGGG THANK YOU!!!

I have a hard time telling if humor is translated into text or not so in my head it sounds funny but I can't tell if the readers will see it that way too. So this is super reassuring hehe

MAID VANDERWOOD I LOVE YOU PLEASE RETURN MY CALLS!!!

genuinely a crime that he doesn’t have his own route. I need this beautiful woman BADLY.

Crawling Back to You

Chapter thirty-one & thirty-two

Synopsis: Chapter Thirty-one: Rae has a big decision to make

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k and 3k

Chapter: 31-32/34

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW/CW: None

Note: Two chapter upload because they are both pretty short.

It shimmers. Very subtly, but even still, she can see that it does. When her suit was first manufactured, she had been amazed. More than amazed, she had been ecstatic. How serious could someone be taken as a hero if every time they used their powers, they lost their clothes? Digits roughed and callused by time trailed over the green hues, grooves catching on the fabric here and there. With pressure, the material appeared to shimmer, just barely. Incandescent greens and blues traveling over the threads, similar to fish scales. A nanotechnology that she was nowhere near qualified to fully explain to any of the others, especially not Rudy. Rudy could probably replicate the technology with his hands tied behind his back. Even then, he’d probably just use one of his Robots.

If Rae had a bunch of Robots at her beck and call, she’d probably have a home cooked meal by now. Instead, she was sitting in a barren, too pristine hotel room, legs tucked underneath her on the guest bed, while her best friend tried to locate some hydrogen peroxide. She probably shouldn’t have the soles of her suit on the bed, but she was so exhausted that she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“So, what exactly happened?” Killdeer’s voice rang out from somewhere in the confines of the miniscule bathroom right around the corner. Rae couldn’t wrap her head around why she wouldn’t just stay at the Teen Team headquarters. Sure, it’d be awkward with Rex, but it wouldn’t be impossible to avoid him. And, if Rae knew her at all, she figured at least a bit of her was looking for an excuse to be in proximity to him again.

On the other hand, the beds there were about the same level of comfort as the ones there, so she wasn’t missing out on much. “Some guy was throwing a bus around downtown.”

“Some guy?”

“Well, more like a giant hulking monster…thing? We got it handled, but, unsurprisingly enough, getting punched still hurts.”

“You’re preaching to the choir.” Killdeer sighs, finally reappearing from the bathroom with a dark bottle in her grasp. “Which will never stop being ironic. The healer who’s kinda shit at healing.” She pulled the chair from a single seater table in the corner, placing it so that it was facing Rae.

“I don’t think you’re so bad.” Rae mumbled, making quick work of peeling her arm out of her suit. Her injuries were relatively minor compared to another hot head on the team, but she wasn’t sure if she should mention that to her friend. It’d just make her worry, sour her mood, and bring down the whole experience. Which already wasn’t great.  

“I think you're required to say that, as my one and only friend.” She scoffed, stretching to grab a clean cloth from her suitcase. Very prepared, Rae noted.

“Don’t let Zandale hear that.”

“Oh, right.” Killdeer seemed to actually sit in thought for a moment. “I can’t believe I forgot about him for a second.” She trailed off for a moment, staring out the window.

It sent a pang through Rae’s heart. She’d never seen her friend look so lost, even when she was dealing with her doubts regarding belonging with the Guardians. This was a whole new low, and she was sure that Killdeer was even still playing up how okay she was feeling to some extent. The hotel room was completely unlived in, not taking into account the other bed. Which was more than a wreck, evident of what Rae figured must have been nights worth of tossing and turning. “I think he’ll be okay.” Rae nudged her friend’s knee with her own, drawing her back to the task.

“Right.” She jolted slightly at the touch, relaxing a bit once she met Rae’s eyes. “He’s a big boy.”

“He’s a big boy.” Rae nodded with a chuckle. Then grimaced as her friend put the damp rag to her wound, the sharp sting taking over any other possible senses. “Son of a-” 

“Sorry.” Killdeer muttered, cleaning up the splatters of blood from around the lesion. “It’ll be better in a second.” She took Rae’s hand opposite to the shoulder she was working, and closed her eyes.

Rae braced herself, tensing more than she meant to. She was sure she’d never get used to the peculiar feeling of being stitched back together in a matter of minutes. Skin stretching and knitting, pulling then relaxing, it was uncomfortable to say the least. Except- Rae opened her eyes just as Killdeer let go of her hand, standing up to dispose of the cloth. 

Rae’s forehead creased in confusion. Why didn’t she-?

Her shoulder was back to pristine condition, no residual aches, no phantom feeling of threaded needles drawing taut along with layers of flesh. Nothing. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?” Rae heard from somewhere in the bathroom.

“Do…I didn’t feel anything, how did you do that?”

Killdeer poked around the corner, brows furrowed, wiping her hands with one of the hotel provided towels. “What do you mean, Hun?”

“I didn’t feel you heal me.” Rae absentmindedly rubbed her shoulder, it was like nothing ever happened.

“That’s weird, I mean it feels different for everyone-”

“And you did that in like two seconds!” Rae shuffled off the bed, approaching the door where her friend was standing.

“I mean I guess-”

Rae spoke her friend's name with a small huff of exasperation, “- listen, hold on. How deep do you think that was?”

“It wasn’t the worst I’ve ever seen, definitely would have needed stitching. Sections of the laceration split the hypodermis-”

“With less medical talk.”

“Must you interrupt me?” Killdeer groaned but continued after a moment. “It was deep.”

“Don’t you see how good this is?” Rae crossed her arms, leaning against the wall.

“I’m lost Rae, are you feeling okay?”

Rae spoke her name again, holding her hands in front of her to gesture for Killdeer to cease talking. “The last time you healed me was for a concussion, right?”

“I think so-?”

“That took, what? Twenty, thirty minutes?”

“The brain is very complicated; you have to be really careful-”

“It was rhetorical. You helped Zandale too, I remember, it was this big ugly wound that practically split his arm. How long did that take you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Fifteen minutes?”

“Maybe?” Killdeer shook her head, putting down the rag. “Your point, Rae?”

“This just took you seconds.” Rae didn’t say anything more, looking for any kind of reaction on her friend’s face.

“That day was a long time ago-” Killdeer passed her to mess with something in her suitcase. “That was before you went to the hospital…shit, that was before a lot of things.”

“Do you not realize how big this is, though?” Rae practically bounded after her, sitting back down on the edge of the second queen bed. “How’s your head?”

“Edging closer and closer to a headache with every second you keep talking my dear.” Killdeer gave her a placating smile, shaking her head once again.

“But you don’t have a headache right now?”

“Not yet.” Killdeer hesitated in her folding, as if it was finally fully clicking. “Huh…”

“How much training have you been doing since I went into the hospital?”

“A lot.” She admitted, “Between my shifts there, and missions, and…” She seemed to physically deflate, glancing out the window again before standing up straighter and clearing her throat. “I practiced a lot on Rex too. Do you think…?”

“I don’t know what to think, but you’re a lot stronger than before. You didn’t notice, really?”

“I still get close to episodes though; I can feel it on missions sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” Rae reiterated, a smile spreading across her face. “I’m just saying, you’re a, well you would’ve been, a real fucking Guardian.”

“You think?” Killdeer glances over at Rae, obviously holding back a small smile. The first real smile Rae had seen from her in weeks. But it quickly disappears, replaced by something with a bitter tinge. “Would have been nice when I was actually a Guardian.”

Rae doesn’t have much to say to that, she just nods quietly.

They seem to have reached somewhat of an impasse. Rae doesn’t know what to say, and Killdeer doesn’t seem to want to say anything at the moment.

Rae speaks her name quietly, now taking her turn to look out the window. “-do you…could we make something for dinner?”

--

“So, you take all your dates here?” Killdeer flashed a coy smile while picking up a box of crackers, eyes scanning the front and then the back.

Rae eyed the box, tightening her grip on the basket that was pulled into the crook of her arm. God, they were so similar sometimes it was almost nauseating. At least, she trusted that her friend wouldn’t open the crackers and start eating them, unlike Rex. She shook the thought to analyze the implications of Killdeer’s words. And being that Rex had been here with her just a few days ago, she almost shuddered. “Gross.”

“Wow, you could pretend like you like me.” Killdeer’s words sounded genuinely hurt, but the grin that played her mouth said otherwise. She dropped the crackers in the basket, then seemed to glitch in real time, her hand frozen outstretched.

“Is something wrong?” Rae tilted her head at her, her brows tensing together in concern.

Her friend blinked a few times before pulling the crackers out of the basket, putting them back on the shelf. “I don’t even like these, I’m not sure why I- Force of habit I guess.” The last part was grumbled and followed by a much meeker smile than her cocky grin before had been.

Not a coincidence then. Rae bit the inside of her lip, looking around the other aisles before continuing ahead, trying to escape the implications of what had just happened. The middle of a grocery store was not the place to be discussing something as heavy as this. “So, I was thinking steak.”

“Steak?” Killdeer snorted. “What are we? Rich?”

“Yes.” Rae gave her an unimpressed look. “We had Guardian salaries.”

“We got paid for that?”

“You never got paid?”

“Well, I mean I didn’t really check.” Killdeer shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I just put stuff on my card and hoped for the best, I had money saved up, you know.”

“And you never checked once?”

“I’ve been a little busy.” She winced, holding her hands out in a pacifying motion. “I’ll check- I’ll check!”

“How did you survive on your own?” Rae slowly made her way forward, grabbing the same things she had the other day when she had been here with Rex, hopefully with much less interruptions.

“Hey, for your information I am very responsible.” Rae shot her friend a look that screamed ‘yeah, sure’. “I am!” Killdeer said with indignation at the unspoken jab.

“Is this a cucumber or a zucchini?” Rae held up the vegetable to her friend, still somewhat determined to figure it out, even if she was going to buy it regardless.

“Cucumber.”

“Really?”

“…Yes?” Killdeer squinted her eyes, looking at the vegetable, but she seemed to lose her confidence in her answer with every second she stared.

Rae shrugged, getting major Déjà vu once again, but still determined to move forward.

“So, we're going to cook steaks on the stove?”

“Yes.” Rae responded simply, pausing to put her hand on her hip, waiting to receive the same shit Rex had been giving her. But it didn’t come. Killdeer moved ahead of her, analyzing a case of precut steaks a little way off.

“Do you know what cut you want?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Uh…I didn’t make it that far.” She flashed a sheepish grin back at Rae, her hands gripping the edges of the freezer display.

It made Rae sigh. Even separated, the two of them were the same, regardless of their differences.

--

“I think it’s burning.”

“It’s definitely burning.”

“Maybe turn the heat down?”

“Maybe?”

Rae and her friend stood in front of the stove, both mirroring each other with a scratch on the head. They were going to have steak if it was the last thing they ever did.

“Do you think we’ll get food poisoning?”

“From burnt steak?” Killdeer cocked a brow, moving to flip the meat, the juices sizzling from the action .

“I think it’s raw in the middle.”

“Well, I’ll be fine.”

“You have healing powers, I’m not really nervous about you.”

“Harsh.”

“Tough love, honey.” Rae decided to busy herself with cutting up the green beans she had grabbed from the organic section, without looking at the price. When they were checking out, she was too tired to take them back and replace them, so she let the exorbitant price remain.

Killdeer’s eyes kept leaving the pan, glancing over at the double doors of the kitchen. As much as she was trying to make this a good experience for Rae, she was obviously on edge.

“He never comes in here.” Rae tried to give her any semblance of ease. It didn’t work.

“How does he eat?”

Rae snorted at that; it slipped out before she could stop it. The look on Killdeer’s face immediately made her feel, admittedly, a little bad. She was actually concerned for someone she cared about, Rae cared about Rex, but not enough to make sure he was eating food. Well, real food.

“He makes good use of Rudy’s card, I’ll tell you that.”

“Why doesn’t he use his own card?”

“I think there’s an added thrill to using someone else’s. Like it’s his small way of being a little bad or something.”

Killdeer scoffed, her lips curving into a downward smile, and then it faded.

Reality sets back in again.

Rae utters her name softly, putting the knife down on the cutting board.

“Why did you want to make dinner?”

Rae hesitated; she wasn’t stupid. She knew this was a blatant refusal to talk about the subject at hand, but she allowed the topic to shift. “I don’t know. Maybe I wanted to feel normal.”

“Why don’t you feel normal?”

“Do you feel normal? Does anything about being a hero feel normal to you?”

It was her friend’s turn to hesitate, as she poked idly at the cooking steak. “Would normal really be better?”

“I don’t know.” It was honest. Rae had never got the chance to be normal. How could she give her opinion on this so assuredly? She couldn’t. Neither, it seems, could her company, because the conversation lulled from there.

-

“You know what I really can’t get over?”

“What?” Killdeer murmured around a mouth full of food. It had all turned out surprisingly okay. Nothing had to be tossed or disposed of, and the taste of burnt food was easily covered by other ingredients.

“Kate.”

“Kate?” Her friend echoed, swallowing dryly, and giving her a confused look.

“She disappears, lets us all think she died, and now she’s the only one of the original Teen Team who’s still a Guardian.”

“Oh shit, yeah I guess you’re right.”

Rae let the silence envelop them for a few moments, trying to focus on simply chewing her food. “It’s just messed up is all.” 

“You don’t got to tell me, I’ve disliked her and The Immortal for ages. Or…they disliked me first? I don’t even know anymore.”

Wine glasses clinked against the metal of the table. It was nice to just enjoy a meal. Nothing else involved. No drama, no supers, no…Well, actually. What else was there to talk about? Rae wasn’t sure she even knew how to be normal anymore. And maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but it was starting to freak her out. Something she’d been considering for months began to boil towards the surface. An idea that had taken root that she couldn’t shake. 

“I’m quitting.”

A pregnant silence fell upon them both. Killdeer stopped midbite, her eyes widening with every second that passed. “What?”

“I’m exhausted. I’m tired of fighting and losing, and not knowing if I’m going to be next, or if it was all ever even worth it.” Rae tightened her grip around the stem of her wine glass, it was cheap, something they’d grabbed on the way to the base. Flimsy. She had to be sure not to accidentally break it. “I spent months in a hospital after a fuckin’ lizard tried to eat me. It’s just going to happen again and again until I’m less lucky.”

Her friend listens intently, gaze falling down to her plate after Rae finished speaking. “Okay.” She finally said. “That makes sense. I mean, I offered you my spare room all those months ago, the offers still open and-”

“You should quit with me.” Rae blurts. 

“What?” 

“Think about it! You’re getting boomeranged off and on the team again, half of these people don’t trust you anymore-”

“Ouch-”

“And worst of all you keep having your head explode, or whatever that is.” Rae takes a final swig from her glass, settling it down as gently as she can with the amount of vigor now travelling through her. She’d finally made a decision and it’d never felt more right. She felt free. She felt…optimistic. And she wanted her friend to join her. 

“Rae…” She starts, rubbing the outside of her upper left arm with her right hand. “I just…” She hesitated. “This is what I wanted to do for so long.”

“And you did it. You paid your price like everyone else, now you should get out before it turns serious for you like it did for me.” And for Rex. She keeps that part silent for now. 

The former looks uncomfortable, refusing to meet Rae’s gaze. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean ‘I don’t know’?” Rae narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“No more secrets, right?” Killdeer laughed awkwardly, still not elaborating quick enough for Rae’s liking. Rae didn’t join her in the laugh. “Cecil…” She starts, trying to find her words. “Well, he came to see me, a little while back.”

Rae did not like the sound of that. She didn’t interrupt though, only pushed her glasses up further on her nose and squinted. 

“Apparently, I could die.” 

“Well, no shit-” 

“I mean from my powers.” She interrupts, chuckling nervously. Dry and without humor. “If I faint again, Cecil said that I won’t be able to regenerate my cells correctly. It’s game over.” She hesitates. “Or so he thinks, I mean he could be wrong, you know?”

“Quit.” Rae says it immediately, without pause. Her expression cold and hardened. 

“Well I don’t-”

“Quit with me.” Rae’s tone has an edge of desperation to it. She pushes a hand through her bangs over the top of her head, stopping at her ponytail. “This is insane, you realize that right?” 

“I-”

“I don’t understand how this is even a question for you. You’re not a Guardian anymore. This team doesn’t even know what it is yet, and either way it’s not worth your life.”

She sits quietly, trailing her finger over the rim of her wine glass. “This is all I wanted to be, Rae. This was my dream.”

“Then you need to find a new dream.” Rae says with a shrug, sitting back in her chair. 

Killdeer stands up, gathering the plates of food and dishes in nearly one go, then moves them all onto the counter. Clearly deep in thought. This wasn’t something Rae thought she’d know the answer to immediately. It had taken Rae months to decide, and she only knew for sure right now. After a few moments, Rae finally gets up deciding it was best not to rush her answer. 

Halfway through washing the dishes, the other finally spoke. The plate within her gasp dipping into the soapy water again. “I need to talk to Rex.”

Rae sighed, but nodded. “Yeah. I think you do.”

Chapter thirty-two

Summary: You and Rex finally have a heart to heart.

You were in luck. Not long after telling Rae you needed to talk to Rex, he had messaged you. Short, sweet, simple.

Can we talk? 

Almost alarmingly basic. Every single emotion you were forced to feel from Rae urging you to quit was only amplified by the one thing you hadn’t mentioned to her. Just as short and just as simple, only nowhere near as sweet. Rex knew. He knew and said nothing. You could have died and to some extent that would have been his fault. And Cecil’s fault, and probably Rudy’s fault. After all, who would have told Rex? 

A small voice deep inside you almost hoped that in a way…it meant they were even. You were both liars, so what was the big deal? But the voice was quickly drowned out by every other loud utterance swirling around your mind space. Alongside eroding brain matter, apparently. You wanted to hate Rex. To get defensive, and shove it in his face that he just walked out. It wasn’t even an official breakup, just ages of no communication. What does that even mean? 

Were you happy the door had been left ajar? Or, would you have rathered there be a definitive end? 

You didn’t want an end. You were clear headed enough to know that. You loved Rex. Even if you didn’t know how to articulate that exactly when you should have. And, if you were entirely honest, you wanted to work it out. But, you also wanted to get angry. You wanted to cry, to point fingers and accuse him. You wanted to scream about how you’d needed him and he walked out. And you hoped he wanted to do the same. You hoped, maybe selfishly, that he’d felt the weight of space as much as you had. 

And now, you are going to be able to find out. 

It’s dark out. The city lights dotted the distant as well as near skyline, proving the only semblance of depth you can make out in the backdrop. Rex is standing merely feet away. The closest you’ve been in what feels like a lifetime. You can feel him. The slow pump of his heart, the exhaustion in his bones. He’s worn. His elbows are pressed against the cool metal barrier of the railing.

Rex sighs gently, then turns to head back in towards the base entrance. He didn’t make it to the door, his gaze catching on you like a magnet. “Hey.”

It made your stomach churn. And even worse the instantaneous reaction your body had to the sound of his voice made you vaguely irritated. How were you supposed to focus on what you wanted to say when he sounded like that? “Hi.” You stepped forward, rubbing your arms for warmth. It was cold, you should have brought a thicker jacket. 

Rex had gauze wrapped around his head, it was turning a soft pink over his right eyebrow, obviously whatever wound he was hiding beneath was not properly stitched. Or worse, not stitched at all. Knowing Rex, the latter was definitely possible. 

“How have you been?” His voice hardly carried over the wind. You both subconsciously moved closer. 

“Shitty. You?”

“Can’t complain.” He muttered lightly. “I heard you’re still staying at a hotel in town.”

“Well, yeah, I must be or I wouldn’t be here right now.” It came out harsher than you had meant. He was only trying to connect. Why were you fighting it? 

“Right…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Cecil told me.” The words slipped off your tongue, and hung heavy in the air. But not in the way you expected. Rex looked…confused. Which only made sense when you thought about it a little harder. Rudy was more likely the one who told him, so saying Cecil’s name meant nearly nothing. “He told me about how if I overextend myself again, I’ll likely not wake up.” How do you word that without coming off pathetic? So much work to be taken seriously just for this. 

Rex’s brow furrowed but he didn’t speak. He only approached a few feet closer. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Rex?” Your voice cracked in a way that had you faltering. Any collected exterior you had tried so carefully to cultivate seemed to fade with every step of his closer to you.  

“Tell you?” He echoed, finally stopping a foot or so away from you. You could make out every detail of his features now. The crook of his nose, the dark tired look to his eyes, small marbled scars that dotted his skin from years of fighting. They were hardly visible, small divots you’d only noticed after a countless amount of time spent staring at him. “You didn’t know?”

So simple. 

Only a few words said in earnest and every bit of ground you thought you had to stand on shifted from underneath you. “What?”

“I thought you were trying to keep it a secret from me, like everything else.”

“Like everything else?” You echoed, bristling slightly.

“How else would you put it?” Rex didn’t reflect your defensiveness. He only looked more tired. His jaw set loosely, lips parting.   

You rub your arms, pacing back and forth only a few feet out before returning to where you had been. “You really thought I knew?”

“Yes. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact you didn’t.” He flexed a hand at his side. “Cecil just told you?” 

“He told me when I left here, after…” You didn’t need to finish. Both of you knew exactly when.

“That’s fucked up.” 

More silence.

God, this was awkward. And you hated it. 

“Rex, I didn’t…I just want to say, I didn’t hide it because I wanted to. At least not initially. Cecil wanted me to stay a secret, he told me not to tell anyone. And at first it didn’t matter, because I didn’t know any of you guys. But-” You hesitated, cycling between any nervous tick that gave you a semblance of relief. “I wanted to tell you. I almost did a few times.”

“Almost did isn’t good enough. You should have told me.” Rex folded his arms, looking off to the side. You followed his gaze, glaring at the city light in your own turn. 

“I know.” You finally muttered. Which seems to catch Rex by surprise. “I was too scared. I didn’t think for a million years when I first joined that I’d end up bonding with the people I did. Rae was nice but I didn’t think much of it besides her being naturally friendly. And you were a dick.” No better way to put it honestly. “When I first started to fall for you, I wasn’t even sure if it was because of you, or because you’d turned into a new person from some… traumatic brain injury. At what point was I supposed to go, ‘Hey, by the way, I’ve been lying from the start, and you were right to hate me’?” You pulled your arms around yourself tighter. “Honestly?”

Rex searches your gaze, then sighs. “Yeah.” It’s rudimentary. But the way in which he says it lets you hope. He’s begrudgingly seeing your point of view. Not really even begrudgingly. He wants to see your point of view. 

“I didn’t want you to know for more reasons than just that though.” If you were being honest, you might as well spill everything. “On my first mission, I was shot. A Security guard who wasn’t supposed to be there. I killed him. I didn’t mean to, it’s some sort of defense reflex. No one told me that it was me. I had to put it together myself and suffer through nightmare after nightmare. I-” You swallowed dryly, tripping over your words. “I’m not proud of my powers half of the time. I do a lot of good with them, I’ve saved a lot of lives. But all I can think about is the one I killed without meaning to. I didn’t want to tell you, I didn’t want you to look at me how I looked at my own reflection. My abilities are my biggest strength. They define me. But they also feel…tainted now.” You’re floundering, wringing your hands together. Your most recent experience with Rae had you feeling moderately good. You’d been able to heal her without even trying. You had improved so much, but you were still…you.

“Was that your first time? Killing someone?”

“Yes.” You mutter. “And he was completely innocent.”

“He shot you.” Rex scoffed.

“He was scared.” 

“If I shot someone every time I was scared, I’d have a much higher kill count.” 

“Rex, that’s not the point.” 

“Then what is?” 

“I…I don’t know.” You’d got it off of your chest but somehow still managed to stay in the same spot. Did your honesty now matter at all? Or was it too late? Maybe it also meant less to him because of his history with Radcliffe… “Rae is quitting. She’s asked me to quit with her.” If you should have waited for everything else so far to sink in, you didn’t. Ages of no communication had to be made up for now, and like a leaky faucet you couldn’t stop it. He was giving you hardly anything to gauge off of and you needed to decide where you’d end up. You couldn’t pay for both a hotel room and an apartment forever. 

The shock in Rex’s expression raises his eyebrows, and he honestly looks panicked. It almost surprised you how much more he reacted to this than the fact you just admitted to accidentally killing someone. “Are you going to?”

“I told her I needed to talk to you first.” The admission left you feeling bare and vulnerable.

He almost smiles at that. A reflex still built in at your words. It gives you a small semblance of hope. “Do you want me to convince you to stay?”

“I-” What did you want? Rex deserved to settle down just as much as Rae did. They both had given time and time again. In this moment, it felt crystal clear.  “I want you to quit too.”

“You’re not serious, right?” His expression falls along with his arms that were folded, shock rippling through him with virtual visibility. 

“I am.” 

Rex uttered your name with a soft chuckle, the sound of it enough to have you taking a step forward, bringing the two of you just that much closer. “I can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because- because this is who I am!” It felt like hearing yourself talk to Rae earlier. The talk of dreams and purposes. 

“It’s not all you are.” You tried to interject, but he continued.

“You know better than most just how much it is all I am. I’m not Rex Sloane. As much as I love to play pretend and daydream when you call me that.” He runs a hand over his face, narrowly avoiding the gauze. “It’s just not real. Rex Splode isn’t just some name, it’s who I am, it's my identity. All I am and all I can be. It’s my purpose.”

“And you don’t want more?” You want to reach out to him, but hold back. “You mention daydreams as if they are outside of your grasp. It’s right there, Rex! You can learn to be something else, we can learn to be something else. Something that doesn’t require us to die in the end!” 

“Is that you or Rae talking?” 

“Rex-” You sigh.

“You mentioned a few months ago how you felt less. Less than the other Guardians, all those fake sleezy pricks.” He presses his tongue against the inside of his lip, swiping it over the ridges of his lower teeth. 

“Yeah?” You were trying to figure out where he was going with this, performing mental gymnastics in attempts at playing catch up. 

“I just know how you feel is all I guess. Robot- er, Rudy, whatever-the-fuck, he’s not a bad guy, but its…” He pauses, his voice lowering. “It’s something else to see someone with your face who’s a hundred times better than you. I have to be better. I need to be something. I’ve spent so long trying to get to this point, to be taken seriously. If I left now, I’d still have to watch myself be exactly who I wanted to be, except it’s not me. It’s him. And I failed.” His voice turns rough at the end, gravely.

“That’s not failure, Rex. You’ve given so much more than Rudy ever has. I would know.” You’re treading forward again, the ends of your shoes nearly touching his. “I know what the inside of your brain looks like. I’ve seen your skull split open for this job. You’ve done enough.” 

His gaze remains averted downwards, not meeting you. “It’s all I am.” He reiterated. 

You sigh, running your tongue from canine to canine. “Rex. Do you want me to continue working as a hero?”

With barely a moment’s hesitation. “No.” 

“Then how is it so hard to believe that I think the same about you?” You raise your hands in silent exasperation. “I also want to be a hero. I’ve spent so long working towards it. I’ve sacrificed so much. Gallons upon gallons of my own blood, literally. I am so used to my head hurting, it feels too quiet now when it doesn’t. I haven’t gone through half of what you have, and in a way that fuels me. I could always sacrifice more, do more, save more people. But is that all I am? Am I only a culmination of those I’ve saved and the good I’ve done?” Saying it outloud, you could understand how he felt. It did feel like that to you a lot of the time. But, seeing him say it, you knew it wasn’t true. Rex, whether out of stubbornness, or something else, doesn’t respond. And this proves to be your last straw. You raise a hand to his cheek, smoothing your hand over his skin. He’s unbearably warm against your cold hand, and the heat only spreads down your arm. 

He leans into the touch as though it is second nature for him, eyes fluttering shut. Once again, you hoped it was. It takes everything in you not to mentally reach through the barrier of his skin and heal him. Things were too fragile, you were sure that would only end in another argument. 

“Whether you want it or not, to me, you are Rex Sloane. And he’s a hell of a lot more than Rex Splode ever was.” 

His brows tighten, you can practically see the words sinking in. And at the same time you see him steel himself against it. “I can’t quit.” He whispers, his hand raising to snake up your arm and press to the back of your hand, pushing the side of his face further into your palm. 

“You don’t have to right now. But I want you to think about it.” You try to ignore how your heart sinks. But, you were determined not to give up. Even if things between you both shattered, he wasn’t a bad person. And you wanted him to have his freedom. How would you even describe where you both were as partners? Were you still partners? The way he was acting right now made it hard to remember it’d been nearly two weeks since you last spoke. But, you didn’t want to pull back. If he somehow remembered that he was angry with you, then he could pull back. It wasn’t going to be you-

“I don’t want to be away from you again.” His eyes are open now, half-lidded green eyes drill into you once you focus on him directly. 

“Oh.” This was going in a completely opposite direction than you had initially imagined. You’d pictured heated fighting, and defensiveness. You’d pictured a definitive ending, and Rex telling you he never wanted to see you again. You even pictured beating him to the punch. But this?

“Even if I stay a hero. Will you still stay with me?”

“You’re not still angry about-”

“I am.” He admits, interrupting you. “But, I don’t think I will be forever.” He tilts his head, pressing his lips to your palm. “I’d be an idiot to let you get away over something so impermanent.” 

“Impermanent is a big word for you.”

“Don’t push it,-” He says your name again, pressing another soft kiss to your palm, slightly lower. This was derailing from how you thought it would go, very quickly. 

“I love you.” There it was. No preparation, no gravitas, no hesitation. Quite possibly one of the worst possible times you could have finally said it. You should have said it months ago, should have swallowed your fear. But now that he knew your secrets, it suddenly felt easy to admit. Weightless and without hidden pressure. These facts didn’t stop you from wincing at the sudden confession though. It was completely without decor. What if he thought you were only saying it to convince him to quit, or to stay with you- get back with you?- whatever the definition was. You still wanted him to quit, but you’d love him regardless. Even though it ached.  

His grip on your hand tightened, and a smile spread across his lips. A good sign. An even better sign is the fact that he uses his free hand to pull you closer to him, meeting his lips with yours. It’s not hungry, or passionate, but gentle. A reassurance that you were there, and that he was too. His lips are chilled, not able to escape the wind like the rest of him did. You pictured for a moment deepening the kiss, warming him up with your own body heat. But the idea faded as quickly as it appeared. Time and place. Even though you were wanting to jump him more and more by the second. You’d missed him in a lot more ways than just that. 

When he loosens his grasp on you enough for you to lean your forehead against his, you spoke again. “Please quit, Rex.” You loved him. And he wasn’t safe. He hadn’t been safe the entire time you knew him, and he’d continue to be in danger as long as he remained a hero. 

He exhales a sad sounding laugh through his nose. “I love you too.” 

“Please.” You muttered against his lips.

“Will you stay tonight?”

“If you want me to.”

“I do.”

Authors note: Sorry these chapters are pretty subpar! We're nearing the end and almost a year anniversary of me writing this! I am actually looking for one or two people to beta read old chapters as I revamp them to their final drafts! If you're interested please let me know and I'll be in contact!! Happy season four!

divider credit: @/ saradika

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