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jetii · 2 months ago

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Event Horizon

Chapter Thirty-Six: Restless

Chapter WC: 10,464

Chapter Tags/Warnings: fluff, but this is VERY hurt/comfort heavy and i did make myself cry multiple times writing it so beware

A/N: These two will do literally everything but tell each other they love each other smh (i say as if this isn't my fault). Btw I changed the Lieutenant's name bc I decided I'm keeping him.

Have to plug this art of Goldie @ghostymarni made for me today too. LOOK AT HER!!!

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Duro, 20 BBY

Dawn breaks, and Dash and the engineers are no closer to fortifying the shield generator than they were when you arrived. It's been hours since the power to the main generator came back online, and there's still no sign of an attack. And while you're grateful for the time to prepare, it's hard not to be suspicious, and more than a little wary. The shield only allows so many dropships in per hour, but the longer you wait for the droids to attack, the larger the force must be.

It's not as if you've done nothing with your time, however. You and Snap had spent the last few hours crawling the city with Screwball, noting choke points and potential weak spots and doing a little sightseeing.

Screwball had found evidence of tunnels below the city, and while you hadn't found any access points yet, they would provide an excellent secondary route should the droids break through the main gate and flood the city from above. Your only concern is whether they're stable, and how extensive they are. There could be a dozen access points, or none. You simply have no way of knowing.

The streets are filled with clones as your squads move from block to block, each passing minute bringing more troopers and more supplies into the city. The footprint of Urdur is chaotic, a maze of streets and alleyways that weave through the ancient buildings making navigating the city difficult, even with a map. It didn't help that the structures were crumbling, with half-collapsed floors and missing staircases, leaving you to take detours and double back often.

But as difficult as it was to navigate for you, it will be worse for the droids. And that's exactly what you're counting on. The narrow roads and sharp corners make for perfect ambush locations, and with the help of the 882nd, who had arrived a short while ago, the entire city will be a deathtrap.

And though you're sure it'll all go to hell the moment the fighting starts, you also have a plan.

After hours of searching, the three of you returned to the generator and joined the others, sharing the information and brainstorming strategy. There was some debate about how to deploy the men, and you and Rex ended up butting heads a bit over how best to defend the city, with the Captain advocating for a centralized position and you suggesting a more distributed approach.

In the end, you had won the battle. The 882nd as the 419th's heavy infantry regiment would be posted up outside the walls, while the 501st would man the walls, keeping the enemy from entering the city. The 103rd regiment, which were comprised of the 419th's scouting, demolitions, and recon regiments, would be spread out throughout the city, covering the key points of access and providing a flexible response should the droids break through the wall. Malestrom Company, led by Snap, would stay at the shield generator site as a last line of defense.

And you? Well, you were going to do what you did best. Hunt down the enemy and take them apart.

With the plan in place, there wasn't much else to do but wait.

And wait you have.

You've been pacing the perimeter of the generator for hours, a nervous energy driving you forward. It's not the waiting that bothers you. It's the lack of information. You have no idea where the droids are or how big their forces could be, and every minute that passes brings with it the fear that you're unprepared for the coming fight.

You know you should be patient. That this is the right decision. The only option. But the longer the silence stretches, the more on exhausted and on edge you become, and you know you're not the only one.

You'd commanded Dash to take a break and let Fuse and the others take over for a bit, and though he had protested, he hadn't argued for very much longer. He'd collapsed onto the nearest cot and was out like a light within minutes, several of the other members of Maelstrom spread out around him. The rest were scattered throughout the room, most asleep or close to it, a quiet murmur of voices the only sign that they were awake at all.

You, on the other hand, are too keyed up to sleep, the adrenaline in your system refusing to allow it. You watch them from above on a catwalk overlooking the generator, leaning against the railing and scanning the space for anything out of place. But all you see is a group of soldiers who have worked themselves to the bone in order to make this mission a success.

It's been months since your men were able to truly rest, months since they'd stepped foot on a planet not actively trying to kill them, and the reality of the war is wearing on them all, not just you. You've always known the toll the conflict would take, but the constant fighting has made it easier to ignore, to push away the thoughts and emotions and focus on the mission. But seeing your troops like this, so tired and worn, has reminded you of just how bad things are, and how far you've all come in such a short time.

More than anything, you wish they were all back on Coruscant. Back home. Safe.

But they're not. And the war won't end anytime soon.

You sigh and push the guilt away, letting go of the anger and resentment that comes with it. The only thing you can do is resolve to speak to the Council when this is over, and stand your ground until they agree to let the 419th take a vacation, a proper break from the war and the violence and the death. It's the least you can do for your men. For your brothers.

Your hands tap a restless rhythm on the railing, and your gaze drifts around the room, watching the steady rise and fall of the troopers' chests and the subtle twitches and shifts of their bodies. It's almost mesmerizing, and you find yourself zoning out, letting the world drift away and your mind wander.

You know you should sleep. You promised Snap you would, and you don't intend to draw his ire again. But you also know that the echoes of your vision will come if you do.

You can already feel them waiting, the faintest whisper like an itch at the back of your mind, one that will come to the fore if you dare close your eyes. A city burning, Rex holding a blaster to your chest, his eyes filled with grief and pain, and the two of you pulling the trigger together, your fingers entwined. The feeling is visceral and painful, and no matter how hard you try, you can't shake the memory.

It's not a new sensation, nor is it the first time it's plagued you, but the visions are stronger now, and more frequent. It's a premonition, and you know it. A glimpse of the future. One shrouded in a heavy layer of some meaning you've failed to yet grasp.

Or maybe you're just being stubborn, refusing to believe it will come true despite everything telling you otherwise. You don't know. All you know is that the thought of losing your friends—of being the cause of their deaths—is too much.

Your hand drifts up to your neck, slipping inside your robes to grab hold of Yaddle's pendant. The feeling of it between your fingers is soothing, a small comfort that helps keep the shadows at bay. You're not sure how much time passes, the seconds bleeding into minutes and beyond, but the pendant remains firmly clasped in your hand, the familiar weight grounding you in the present.

"Hey."

You look over your shoulder to see Rex approaching, his helmet tucked under his arm and a cup of caf in his free hand. He offers the mug to you with a raised brow, and you feel a flutter in your chest at the sight. It's a small thing, a kind gesture, but the thoughtfulness of the act isn't lost on you.

"You're my hero," you murmur as you accept the mug, your fingers brushing his in the process. He huffs a laugh and shakes his head.

"Don't speak so soon. I couldn't find you any sugar rations."

The corners of his mouth lift as you take your first sip, and your nose wrinkles as the bitter liquid hits your tongue. You force yourself to swallow, a shiver running through your body at the acrid taste, and Rex chuckles at your expression, his eyes twinkling.

"It's not that bad," he teases.

"You're right. It's worse."

Rex snorts and rolls his eyes. "Well, if you don't want it..."

"I didn't say that," you grumble, clutching the mug protectively and holding it to your chest. Rex shakes his head in mock exasperation and leans against the railing next to you. "Thanks. Really. I can use the energy."

"You could use sleep," he corrects, giving you a pointed look. You shrug and take another sip, grimacing again. "You know I'm right. When was the last time you slept? A real night of sleep?"

"I don't know. When was the last time you did?" you retort, and Rex sighs. You both know the answer. Neither of you have had a decent night's rest in weeks. But you can't resist the urge to poke at him anyway. It's a habit at this point.

"That's not fair, and you know it," he scolds, giving you a disapproving frown. You raise an eyebrow and take a drink of caf, ignoring the way the caffeine twists your stomach into knots. "This isn't a joke."

"I didn't say it was."

"You're acting like it," he mutters.

"How's the perimeter?" you ask, changing the subject.

Rex stares at you for a beat, clearly not impressed by your tactic. His jaw works as he debates whether to press the issue or not, before he finally sighs and shakes his head, his shoulders dropping.

"We've got sentries posted every five hundred meters, and we've set up motion sensors and mines around the perimeter," he explains. "I've got the rest of the boys doing the same at the choke points we identified earlier."

"Good," you nod. "Any word from Ahsoka or Anakin?"

"Nothing," Rex replies with a frown. "Long range comms are still down."

"Damn," you mutter, your hand tightening around the mug. Ahsoka should've been able to locate the signal jammer by now, and the fact that she hasn't is a bad sign. It could mean anything, and none of it good. "We're on our own, huh?"

"For the time being," Rex confirms, a note of unease in his voice. You glance at him and see a flash of worry cross his face before he schools his expression back into a neutral mask.

"And the scouts?" you ask. "Have they found anything?"

"Nothing to report yet. They've been moving in a grid pattern and haven't seen anything unusual," he replies as he leans against the railing next to you. He braces his elbows on the metal bar and lets out a heavy breath, his gaze fixed on the ground far below. "And the general in charge of this operation is dead on her feet, despite her best efforts to pretend otherwise."

"You're a pain in the ass," you mutter into your cup, and Rex smirks, his gaze darting to you and back.

"And you're avoiding my question."

"Which was?"

"When was the last time you slept more than a few hours?" he asks again, and you groan, shaking your head and taking another drink. Rex sighs and gives you a look. "C'mon. We're stuck here until the Seps decide to attack. No point in pretending."

"Rex..."

"Please."

The pleading note in his voice is your undoing, and you deflate, the fight going out of you. You sigh and turn to face him, leaning your hip against the railing.

"I don't know. Probably..." You trail off and sigh again, running a hand through your hair, your fingers tangling in the messy strands. You don't have the energy to be coy or avoid his question. "Probably after that night at 79s. Maybe. It's hard to remember."

"That was months ago," Rex says softly. You shrug and give him a small smile, but he doesn't return it. Instead, his frown deepens, his brows furrowing as he studies your face. "Are you kidding me?"

"What do you want me to say?" you ask, the words coming out sharper than intended, and the cup hits the railing, a splash of caf sloshing over the edge. "It's not like I have much choice, Rex. I sleep when I can, but the visions, they...I just can't seem to get any rest. So I try to meditate instead."

"And how's that going for you?" he asks dryly.

"It's going great," you growl. Rex snorts, and you scowl at him. "Why are you even asking me these questions if you're just going to mock me?“

"I'm not mocking you," he insists, his expression softening as his voice drops low. He shifts closer to you, and his hand drifts down to the railing, his fingers finding yours and gently prying them from the mug. You relax slightly, your body responding to his touch despite the frustration, and he sighs. "I'm sorry."

You watch him for a second before you release the breath you've been holding, your shoulders sagging as the anger drains away. You can't stay mad at him, no matter how hard you try.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he continues, his voice low. "I'm just worried."

"You're always worried," you point out, and he smiles, nodding.

"I am," he agrees. He lets go of your hand and lifts his fingers to your cheek, brushing the hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ear. His touch is warm, his fingers lingering against your skin, and you lean into the contact, his thumb stroking the line of your jaw. "But can you blame me?"

"I guess not," you admit reluctantly. He gives you a knowing look and drops his hand, and you bite back a sigh of disappointment. "But it's not like I can just...sleep. I've tried. It doesn't work."

"I know," he murmurs, his expression softening. "But if you can't sleep, at least try to rest."

"I am resting."

"Yeah, sure you are," he snorts. He reaches out and grabs the cup, setting it on the railing behind him. He takes a step forward, his hand finding yours again, and he gives your fingers a light squeeze. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Where are we going?"

"Just outside," he replies with a shrug. "Away from all of this. For a minute."

"Is that an order?" you tease. Rex rolls his eyes and pulls you towards the stairs. You follow without protest, your fingers laced through his.

The two of you move quickly and quietly, your boots barely whispering against the metal grates as you descend the staircase, careful not to wake the others. Most of the troopers are already asleep, sprawled out across the cots and the floor, their armor piled neatly nearby. The only ones awake are those manning the generator itself, and their attention is too focused on the controls and machinery to notice you and Rex slipping through the room and out the door.

Urdur is less gloomy in the daytime, the shadows cast by the towering buildings not nearly as ominous as they had been in the dark. Rex doesn't let go of your hand as he pulls you down the street, and you let him, too caught up in the feeling of his fingers wrapped around yours and the soft glow of the sunrise to care.

He leads you through the city, empty and silent save for the occasional squad of clones patrolling. Rex takes a winding path, avoiding the major thoroughfares and sticking to the smaller streets and alleys. It's almost peaceful, the two of you wandering through the ruins, and the further the two of you get from the generator, the lighter the burden on your shoulders becomes, the weight of the mission and the war fading away, if only for a while.

"Rex, where are we going?" you ask again, breaking the silence that has settled between you, and he shrugs.

"Does it matter?" he replies as he lets go of your hand and drops back to walk next to you. You give him a wry smile and shake your head.

"No," you chuckle. "But you have to admit, this is a bit strange."

"What is?"

"Us, taking a leisurely stroll through a ghost town." You gesture at the empty streets and cracked pavement. "I mean, I appreciate the sentiment, but it feels like we should be doing something. Like we should be preparing."

"We've done everything we can," Rex points out. "There's nothing left to do but wait.”

You hum reluctantly in agreement, and he shoots you a small smile.

“Besides, it’s not much different than the time you showed me around Coruscant,” he says as he looks away.

Your cheeks heat at the reminder. He'd said the words lightly, casually, but there's a hint of something else in his tone, a note of fondness that catches your attention. And you can’t help but smile at the memory of the two of you walking through the city and talking for hours, the war and your stations forgotten in favor of each other's company.

He'd been so nervous then, so unsure, and the sight of him fidgeting and shuffling his feet had been a welcome distraction from the turmoil raging inside your own mind. That day had changed something between you, a fundamental shift in the relationship that had grown so slowly over the past nine months, and the thought of it is almost overwhelming.

You never would've guessed when you sat across from him and told him about your past, about Yaddle and what you'd gone through, that it would lead to the two of you here, side by side. Perhaps you knew then that you were attracted to him, but the depth of the connection, the bond that's formed between you, has come as a surprise. And while you've both fought it, the two of you have only managed to dig yourselves deeper, until the feelings have become too big, too strong, to deny any longer.

Yet, you're still dancing around the subject, neither of you ready to take that final step and acknowledge the feelings aloud, or risk the consequences of a confession. But it's there, a constant presence between the two of you, a connection that grows stronger each time you're together, even if neither of you are willing to say it out loud.

And in the silence, the truth remains unsaid, though the feelings remain.

"It's a little different," you tease, and Rex rolls his eyes. You bite back a grin and bump your shoulder against his, earning a huff and a sideways glance. "Sadly, no Dex's waiting for us this time."

"Shame," he quips. "I've been looking forward to that nerf burger for months."

A quiet, breathless chuckle slips from your lips before you can stop it, and Rex looks over at you with a soft smile.

"I missed that."

"What?"

He looks away again, his cheeks coloring, and he clears his throat.

"Your laugh,” he says quietly. “I haven't heard it in a while."

Your heart swells in your chest, the words washing over you and leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. You want to say something, anything, but the words catch in your throat, and all you can manage is a soft, "Oh."

He nods, his eyes flicking over to meet yours for a second before dropping away again. He's still blushing, and a foreign giddiness wells up in your chest. It's a strange sensation, the sudden urge to laugh and cry at the same time, and you take a shaky breath, your gaze fixed on the ground.

Rex’s words are sweet, but they also remind you of how long it's been since the two of you had a day off, a moment to just sit and relax and enjoy each other's company, without the threat of death hanging over your heads.

All the promises you’ve made to meet up on Coruscant when you both have downtime seem to be getting further and further away. There's never time. Never an opportunity to actually act on them. The war seems like it's only getting worse, and the distance has been wearing on the both of you, more than either of you would care to admit.

You've always been a solitary person, a loner by nature with only Obi-Wan and occasionally Anakin for company, but since Rex, Ahsoka, and the rest of the men have entered your life, you've found yourself craving the closeness, the comfort, the love that comes from having others around who care for you.

It's a weakness, and the Jedi are taught to resist the pull of attachment, but it's impossible to deny the truth of the matter: you're lonely, and you need them. You need Rex.

And not just because of the visions or the darkness that haunts you. You need him because of him. Because he's kind and brave and smart, and he has a dry humor and wit that never fails to amuse you. Because he's always there for you, no matter what, and because he loves you. All of you, every piece and part, no matter how broken or flawed. And because you love him too. So much it hurts.

The thought is sobering, and the giddiness dies, a melancholy sadness taking its place. You feel Rex's gaze on you, but you can't look at him, the emotion too raw, too close to the surface.

"I hope we'll get the chance to have another day like that again someday," you finally say. It's not what you want to say, not the words that burn in your throat, but it's the closest thing you can manage right now. It's the truth, as painful as it is.

"I do too," Rex murmurs. You glance up at him, and his expression is so achingly gentle that your breath catches. "More than anything."

You smile despite the ache in your heart, and you reach out to take his hand, lacing your fingers through his and giving his hand a squeeze. He returns the gesture, and the two of you continue on in silence, lost in your own thoughts, each wrapped up in the memory of that day and the promise of more to come.

Eventually, Rex stops walking. The main gate of the city stretches above you, the massive metal doors closed tight and covered with thick layers of dust and rust, and the sight is oddly familiar, a nagging sense of deja vu tugging at the edges of your consciousness. Before you can think too much on it, he tugs on your hand and leads you toward the steps lining the wall, nodding at the guards stationed nearby as he passes.

The two of you take the stone stairs two at a time until you reach the top of the battlements. He doesn’t stop, guiding you to the base of one of the guard towers, and he lets go of your hand as he steps up to the door, pulling it open and gesturing for you to follow him inside and up the ladder.

Rex reaches the top first and offers you his hand as you reach the last rung, and you take it, letting him pull you up and into the room above. It’s small, no larger than your quarters on the Oracle, cramped and filled with crates stacked haphazardly against the walls and corners. A series of small windows line the far wall, the glass clouded with age and neglect, but you can see the barren landscape beyond.

You walk over to the window and lean against the frame, resting your elbows on the rough stone. The white and gold figures of the 882nd regiment are spread out below, and you can see their speeders parked in neat rows near the city gates as they move through the abandoned factories and warehouses outside. Beyond the walls, the ground stretches away, flat and empty for miles, dotted with the occasional spires and domes of half-buried structures. It's desolate and bleak, but beautiful, in a tragic sort of way.

"It's quite the view," you murmur, and Rex hums in agreement as he joins you, his hands resting on the sill beside yours.

His shoulder brushes yours as he leans forward, his gaze sweeping over the horizon, and you steal a glance at him. The light plays across his features, his dark skin glowing golden in the dawn's rays, and you find yourself mesmerized by the sight, the shadows and scars and the worry lines all fading away, leaving only the man beneath the armor.

He turns and catches you staring, a crooked grin tugging at his lips, and he raises an eyebrow.

"So," he drawls, "how do you feel about sleeping now?"

It takes you a moment to register the question, and once it does, you groan and drop your forehead onto your folded arms, shaking your head in exasperation. Rex chuckles, and you peek up at him, a small smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

"You can't be serious," you grumble, lifting your head. "This is your master plan? To drag me to an abandoned guard tower and hope I fall asleep?"

"No," he says innocently, and he crosses his arms and leans his hip against the sill. "It's my plan to keep an eye on you and make sure you actually rest."

"Rex..."

"You know I'm right," he interrupts, his tone firm. "And I'm not letting you leave until you at least try."

"I'd like to see you try and stop me," you challenge, and Rex raises an eyebrow, his mouth twitching as he bites back a grin. "You know you wouldn't stand a chance."

"If this is your way of goading me into sparring with you, it's not going to work this time," he replies dryly. You pout, and Rex shakes his head, a fond smile playing across his lips. "We're not fighting today. That's not what this is about."

"What is it about?"

"You. And the fact that you're barely holding it together," he answers softly. You blink at him in surprise, a cold chill settling over you and seizing your heart, and he continues before you can respond, "You can't keep going like this. I can't. Not if...if you're not okay."

He pauses, and the two of you stare at each other, a tense silence filling the space between you. You want to deny his words, to insist that he's wrong, but the concern in his eyes and Snap’s earlier words about taking care of yourself stops you. Instead, you sigh and dip your head, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I know," you finally admit. "I'm not trying to be stubborn. I just don't know what else to do."

"That's why I'm here," he says gently. "I'm not asking you to sleep, just try."

You nod, a flush creeping up your neck and staining your cheeks. You feel exposed, vulnerable, the confession pulling at the cracks in your facade. It's been so hard lately to hide the darkness, the fear and the uncertainty that lingers beneath the surface. So hard to ignore the nightmares and the visions and the memories of the pain. It's almost overwhelming, the constant pressure, the weight of it all, and the urge to break is nearly too much to bear.

You know he's right. You know you need to rest. But the thought of sleep, of slipping back into the depths of your mind and finding nothing but torment and anguish and death, is more than you can handle.

But Rex is patient, his eyes never leaving you as he waits for you to gather your thoughts. And you love him even more for it.

"It's not easy," you say as you meet his gaze, the words coming out strained, your voice rough. "Sleeping."

He nods, and you continue, "It's not like the visions are new, but they're different now, more frequent, and it's harder to keep them at bay. When I sleep, I'm...lost. And alone. And I'm afraid that I won't find my way back."

Your eyes sting as the truth slips past your lips, the emotions rushing forward like a dam breaking, and you press your palms into the sill to keep them steady.

Rex doesn't speak, doesn't offer empty words of comfort or false promises of safety, and for that, you're grateful. Instead, he steps forward and places a hand on your shoulder, the weight and warmth of it grounding and soothing. You lean into the touch as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close, and the two of you stand there for a while, his chin resting on the top of your head and his breath tickling your hair.

"What if I stayed with you?" he suggests quietly. "If you were...not alone."

You freeze, your mind racing at the implications, and you turn to face him.

"What are you saying?" you ask, though the answer is already there, the idea taking root and blossoming.

Rex blushes and shrugs, but he doesn't step back or release his hold on you, his body a solid line against yours. "I could stay. If you wanted. I could sit with you, or...hold you, or...or whatever you need. Whatever would help."

His face is burning red now, his gaze fixed on the ground, and your chest floods with affection. It takes everything you have not to reach up and cup his cheek, to brush your thumb over the curve of his bottom lip. Instead, you slide a hand down his chest, stopping just above his heart.

"You would do that? For me?"

"Of course," he murmurs, finally looking at you, and his expression is so soft, so sincere, that you feel like you might melt. "Anything."

The words are a balm to the ache inside you, soothing the pain and easing the weight of the darkness. You smile and press your forehead against his chest, his arms wrapping around you.

"Okay," you murmur, your voice barely audible. He gives you a soft squeeze, and the two of you stand there for a minute, simply breathing each other in. Eventually, you pull away, and Rex releases his hold on you, his hand lingering on the small of your back. "I guess we should get comfortable."

Rex nods, and the two of you spend the next several minutes moving the crates around and creating a space comfortable enough for the two of you, large tarps spread across the wooden slats to pad the hard floor. You sit down and scoot back until your shoulders hit the wall opposite the windows, and you wait for him to join you.

It's awkward, the two of you sitting side by side, the air filled with a strange sense of anticipation. It's far from the first time you've slept next to someone, platonic or otherwise, but it's the first time you've done so with Rex.

He's not just anyone. He's not a random fling or a drunken night with a stranger. He's your closest friend, and the man you love. He's the one who holds your heart, and the only person who truly knows and understands you. You trust him with your life. And more. So much more.

The thought is exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure, and you feel a wave of trepidation wash over you. You can't lose him, and you don't know what you'd do if this somehow went wrong. If it somehow drove a wedge between the two of you. But at the same time, you can't deny that you want him. All of him.

As if sensing your nerves, he turns to you, his face serious.

"You sure?" he asks quietly, and you chuckle, the anxiety fading away at the sincerity in his eyes.

"Are you?"

"I'm asking you," he counters, his lips quirking. You roll your eyes and shake your head, and Rex's expression softens, a hint of vulnerability flashing across his features. "It's just...I don't want to pressure you."

"You're not," you assure him, and the truth of the words settles between the two of you. He's never pushed you, never forced anything, always giving you space and time, and the realization fills you with a deep sense of gratitude. "I wouldn't have said yes if I wasn't sure."

Rex nods and looks away, a hint of color returning to his cheeks as he shifts closer and leans back against the wall next to you. There's still some distance between the two of you, a gap neither of you is quite willing to cross, and you sigh as the silence stretches on.

"This is stupid," you mutter. "I'm too old for this."

Rex glances at you in surprise, a question on his lips. Before he can say anything, you sigh and undo the clasp on your belt, tossing it to the side before you work on removing your outer robe. The motion is quick, and you try not to notice the way his eyes widen as you move.

Once the heavy fabric is off, you fold it into a pillow and lay down, scooting until your head is in his lap. Rex tenses under you, and you turn onto your side, facing away from him and tucking your legs close to your body. You can feel his gaze on the back of your head, and his breath comes out in a slow, shaky exhale, but he doesn't move.

"Is this okay?" you ask after a beat, looking up at him. His eyes are wide, the blush from earlier spreading down his neck and across his ears. "Are you alright, Rex?"

"Yeah," he chokes out, nodding his head vigorously, his hands twitching where they're pressed against his thighs. He clears his throat, his voice still hoarse as he continues, "I'm good. I'm great. This is fine."

"Just fine?"

"More than fine," he replies, a nervous edge to his tone, and his gaze drifts down to your face, his expression softening. "How are you? Is this...are you comfortable?"

"Yes," you murmur, and Rex relaxes, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Thank you. For doing this. For staying with me."

"It's nothing," he insists. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, his fingers gentle against your skin, and the feeling is soothing. You nuzzle his thigh, and his breath catches, his hand stilling before he continues stroking your cheek, the touch light and careful. "It's the least I can do."

"It's not nothing," you say, looking up at him. His gaze meets yours, and you take a deep breath before speaking again. "It means a lot to me. And...it means a lot to me that it's you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

Rex nods, his expression thoughtful, and the two of you settle back into silence. His hand doesn't stop, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw and the curve of your ear, down your neck to the collar of your tunic, and back up again. It's a gentle caress, an intimate touch that leaves goosebumps in its wake. You close your eyes and hum contentedly, relaxing into the sensation and savoring the feeling of his hands on your skin.

After a while, his touch moves down your arm, his fingertips dancing over your shoulder, and his palm rests on your hip. His thumb rubs circles across the bone, and you squirm at the tickling sensation, a giggle bubbling up in your throat.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his hand lifting away, but you reach back and grab his wrist, keeping it there. He hesitates, and you open your eyes, turning to look up at him.

"It's fine," you assure him, smiling softly. "I was enjoying it."

His brow furrows, his gaze darting down to his hand on your hip and back up to meet yours. There's a question in his eyes, and you nod, giving his hand a light squeeze before releasing him.

Rex exhales slowly, and his hand returns to your waist, his touch tentative and gentle. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort, but when he finds none, his hand molds to the curve of your hip again, resting there. You smile and close your eyes again.

"Do you remember that day in the city?" Rex asks, his voice low.

"Of course," you murmur, turning your head so your cheek rests against his thigh. The plastoid of his leg plating is hard and unforgiving underneath the pillow of your robes, but you ignore the discomfort, focusing on the heat radiating from his body and the weight of his hand against your side. "How could I forget? That was the day you finally realized I wasn't just a crazy Jedi."

"You're not crazy," he retorts, giving your hip a light pinch. You yelp in surprise, and Rex chuckles, the rich, throaty noise filling the room and warming your heart. "Just a bit unhinged, is all."

"Unhinged?" you protest as you roll onto your back and open your eyes to glare up at him. His expression is teasing, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips, and you narrow your eyes. "How is that any better?”

"You're right," he laughs. "Not unhinged. A little eccentric, maybe."

"Eccentric?" you repeat indignantly.

"What? I think it suits you," he says, grinning down at you, and you groan, burying your face in his thigh. He snorts a laugh and nudges you with his leg. "It's not a bad thing. I like it."

You don’t move, trying to hide the grin that threatens to spread across your face. It’s not the first time he’s said something like that to you, and it’s not the first time you’ve gotten the feeling that he genuinely likes the less conventional aspects of your personality, even the ones you've spent most of your life trying to hide from everyone else. But it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing, and it doesn't stop the flush that spreads up your neck and stains your cheeks pink.

After a second, Rex sighs, his hand rubbing your hip soothingly. "I meant what I said. You're not crazy, and anyone who says you are isn't worth your time. And the men will agree with me."

"Yeah?" you ask, peering up at him. He nods, his expression sincere, and you bite back a smile, your gaze falling away from his face. "I'm glad I have their support."

"They'd follow you anywhere," he says softly, his fingers trailing down your side, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. "And so would I."

You close your eyes, a lump rising in your throat as his words wash over you, and you reach for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. His words are like a balm to the ache inside you, and you squeeze his hand, holding onto him like a lifeline.

It's a simple thing, the two of you sitting together, talking quietly, his hand holding yours, and yet, it feels like everything. Like more than either of you can say, but also like everything you need. A safe place. A sanctuary. A refuge from the chaos of the war and the darkness of the visions. A home.

You bite your lip, a sudden swell of emotion rising inside you, and you take a deep breath, forcing the tears back before they can spill over. The gesture doesn't go unnoticed, and Rex's hand tightens around yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand gently.

"What is it?" he asks quietly, his voice breaking the silence. You hesitate, unsure of how to answer. How to put your feelings into words. "Hey. Talk to me."

"I just..."

You trail off, the words catching in your throat. He waits, his eyes never leaving your face, and you take a deep breath before continuing, the truth tumbling out of you.

"I had a dream, when I was healing that boy on Nadiem," you confess quietly. Rex’s brow furrows, but he nods, encouraging you to continue. "The Force showed me what could be, the future I could have, and..."

Your breath catches, and you swallow hard, trying to regain your composure. The emotions welling up inside you are overwhelming, and you squeeze his hand again, drawing strength from the warmth of his touch. He doesn't push you, just watches you, his gaze fixed on yours, and you find the courage to keep going.

"It wasn't the first time I'd had a vision like that," you explain softly, your voice trembling. “It's become something like a haven for me, I think. I thought it was a manifestation of the Light side of the Force. Something my mind latches onto in the darkness. But now, I'm not so sure. I think...it's real. Or it could be."

"What was it about?" he asks, his voice low, the words barely more than a whisper. You blink away the tears and give him a small smile.

"A field," you murmur, and you look away, trying to remember the details. "A field of golden grass and flowers, and the sun was shining. I could hear kids playing, and birds, and insects, and...I felt safe. And happy."

You pause, the memory flooding back to you, the sensations so vivid that you can almost taste the sweetness in the air, and your smile widens, a single tear rolling down your cheek. You wipe it with the heel of your hand, and Rex's grip tightens, his fingers entwined with yours.

"Sounds nice," he whispers.

"It was," you reply, your voice wavering. "I've had similar visions before, but this was the clearest, the most real. I felt like I was home."

The two of you fall silent as Rex watches you intently, his expression unreadable. He’s waiting for you to continue, but you can't bring yourself to speak, the weight of the confession threatening to break the dam, and so the two of you sit there, neither saying a word.

“What else?” he finally prompts gently.

Your eyes meet his, and you take a shaky breath. You look away and focus on the feeling of his thumb brushing against the back of your hand, and the words slip out, a quiet confession that lingers in the air between you.

“You were there too. With me."

Rex doesn’t respond. Doesn't move.

He simply stares at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and disbelief, and you let out a soft, breathless chuckle that breaks the silence. His lips twitch, and he looks away, the blush creeping across his cheeks and ears again. You nudge his leg with your head, earning a quiet grunt.

"I'm serious," you insist.

Rex huffs a laugh, still not meeting your eyes.

"You're…you’re sure it was me?" he asks after a beat. You nod, and he gives you a half-smile, the corner of his mouth curving up. "What was I doing?"

You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. You can feel him watching you, his gaze burning a hole into your forehead, but you don't look at him, trying to figure out how to describe what you saw. What you felt.

"We were just standing there. Talking," you start slowly, your voice low, almost a whisper. You close your eyes, the image filling your mind. "We hugged. You said you were looking for me. That I'd run off."

"Run off?"

"You seemed worried, but not surprised," you say with a small smile.

"Of course I wasn't," he murmurs. You turn your head and open your eyes, meeting his gaze. His expression is thoughtful, a hint of sadness lurking behind his smile. "I know you."

"Yeah, you do.” You swallow hard and look away, the emotion building up in your chest, raw and aching. "You told me you were always going to find me."

"Sounds like me."

"It did," you laugh as you wipe your cheek again. "And you did."

"Always will," he vows quietly, his voice thick with emotion, and you close your eyes again, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "If that's where you are, that's where I'll be."

The room falls quiet as his words steal the air from your lungs. You can't breathe, can't move, can't speak. All you can do is lie there, the tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, and hope that the silence between the two of you says what you can't. What you don't have the words for.

Because if the vision is true, if the future you see is the same as the future Rex wants, it changes everything. It's more than the two of you can possibly comprehend, more than either of you are prepared for.

It's everything. Everything the two of you have ever wanted, everything the you have ever dreamed of. Everything that's been missing in the lives you've lived for far too many years.

And you don’t know what to do with that.

“I’m grateful for it. That the Force would show me a place like that. A home," you manage after a beat, your voice hoarse. "But...it was also cruel. To give me something like that only to take it away. I can't...I don't think I can..."

Your voice cracks, the sentence trailing off, and you turn away, covering your face with your hand. You can't keep going.

The answering silence hangs over the two of you like a shroud, a heavy weight that settles on your shoulders. Your fingers play with the robe folded underneath your head, picking at a loose thread until the pressure building inside you becomes too much.

You sigh and push yourself up, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You can feel Rex's gaze on you, the concern and worry emanating from him almost tangible, but you keep your eyes on the ground, too ashamed to look at him.

"It's a lot," you admit quietly, your voice muffled by the fabric of your pants. "The whole thing. It's a lot."

"Yeah," he murmurs. "It is."

"It didn’t used to be like this. I don’t know why the Force is showing me these things, or what it means," you sigh as you glance up at him.

He's staring down at his hands, his brow furrowed and his mouth pressed into a thin line. The sight is familiar, a look he's worn so often in the past several months that it almost feels like a second skin. A mask.

You wish more than anything you could wipe the expression from his face, but you know you can't, and so you continue, "I know I'm supposed to be better at this. Stronger. I don't understand why I'm failing."

"Failing? At what?"

"Being a Jedi," you reply, a bitter edge creeping into your voice. You take a deep breath, and the anger and resentment drain away, replaced by a weary resignation. "I used to think I was terrible at it. That the only reason I wasn't expelled from the Order was because Yaddle took pity on me. But now...I feel like maybe I wasn't a failure, or a lost cause, and that...it's worse."

You pause, a sudden exhaustion settling over you, and the words come out before you can stop them, spilling from your lips in a harsh, ragged whisper.

"It means I could have been more."

The room is silent save for the thud of your heart in your ears, the words hanging heavy in the air. They're true, though you've never said them out loud before, and the truth stings, a deep ache that radiates through your chest.

After a beat, Rex speaks, his voice soft and gentle, but firm, the conviction in his tone leaving no room for argument.

"You are more."

You look up, the tears welling up and threatening to spill over, and he holds your gaze, his eyes burning with a fierce determination.

"You are so much more," he continues. "You're kind and caring and loyal, and you're a good friend and an amazing Jedi. The best. And even if you weren't, it wouldn't matter. Not to me."

"Rex..."

"I'm not a Jedi," he interrupts, his voice low and rough. "And I'm not saying this because I'm trying to be the voice of reason, or because I think that's what you want to hear. I'm saying it because it's the truth."

He pauses, the emotions rising to the surface, and his voice wavers, a note of sadness and longing creeping in. "I know how much it means to you, being a Jedi. And I respect that. But...you can't keep pushing yourself like this. You can't keep tearing yourself apart trying to live up to some impossible standard."

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are," he says, the words cutting off your protests, and he reaches for your hand, holding it tightly. "You're not a machine. You're not invincible. And the war isn't going to get any easier."

"I know."

"Do you?" he asks, his brow furrowed. "Because it doesn't seem like you're giving yourself a chance to rest. To process."

You hesitate, the truth of his words hitting you, and you let out a laugh, a harsh, bitter noise that echoes off the walls.

"I guess I've just been hoping I'd eventually figure it out," you admit, your voice catching. "That somehow, if I just kept going, it would all make sense. And it would work. It's always worked before."

"Maybe it's time to try something new."

You snort, and he raises an eyebrow, a challenge in his gaze.

"Like what?" you ask.

"You could start by not being so hard on yourself," he replies, his tone matter-of-fact. "Maybe stop trying to fix everything, or take on the burden of the whole galaxy, and give yourself a little bit of room to breathe."

"Rex, I can't—“

"Yes, you can," he says softly, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek, his touch warm and gentle, his thumb brushing the skin just below your eye. "You've given so much already. And you don't have to do it alone. You've got me, and the men, and General Kenobi. And General Skywalker and Commander Tano too, if you let them. We'll help you through it, no matter what. You can lean on us."

The words are kind, and the sentiment is touching, but you shake your head, the doubt and fear lingering just beneath the surface rising up and choking the air from your lungs.

"No," you croak, and you pull away from his touch. "You don't understand. I can't...I can't rely on others, or ask them to carry my burdens. It's not fair."

"Fair?"

"I've caused so much pain and suffering already," you say quietly, the guilt and shame heavy in your gut, and you hug your knees tighter. "I can't drag everyone else down with me."

Rex sighs and shifts closer, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you against him. You fight the urge to push him away, to hide, and allow yourself to lean into him, the warmth and solidness of his body a comfort against the storm inside you.

"I know what it's like," he murmurs, his hand resting on the side of your neck, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw, "to feel like you have to be perfect, or strong, or unbreakable. Like you have to keep all the pieces together and not make a single mistake. And I know how exhausting and lonely it can be."

You nod, and the tears well up, spilling over your lashes and streaming down your cheeks. Rex doesn't hesitate, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you, cradling the back of your head in his hand as he holds you tight against his chest. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, and he leans down, pressing his forehead against the crown of your head, his breath tickling your hair.

"I've felt it too," he whispers, his voice hoarse, and you squeeze your eyes shut, the sob building in your throat. "I still do. It's been...hard. Especially lately. It's not easy, and it's not something we can just fix overnight. But it's also not something we have to do alone."

You sniffle and nod again, clutching the front of his chest plate as the tears fall faster. The words hit deep, piercing the shell of your heart and filling you with a warmth that spreads through your chest, radiating out to the tips of your fingers and toes. The feeling is familiar, a sensation that's followed him since the day he rescued you, a connection that's only grown stronger with each passing day, and you can't help but press yourself closer, desperate to feel the comfort of his presence.

Rex sighs, his fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck, and his lips brush against the top of your head. The gesture is tender and affectionate, and it only serves to intensify the ache inside you, the desire to be closer to him, to hold him and be held. To feel safe. And loved.

"You're not alone, and you're not broken," he continues softly, his voice strained, his grip on you tightening as he speaks. "You're just tired. And overwhelmed. And hurting. And that's okay."

The last word catches in his throat, and you pull away, looking up at him through watery eyes. His expression is pained, a raw emotion written across his face, and his gaze darts away from yours. He tries to mask it, but you can see the tears clinging to his eyelashes, the redness in the corners of his eyes. And the sight breaks your heart.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, wiping his cheeks roughly with the back of his hand. "I'm not trying to make this about me. It's just...seeing you like this, it...hurts."

"I know," you whisper. "I know, and I'm sorry. For worrying you. For not being able to handle it. I just...I'm not..."

"It's okay," he cuts in, his voice soft, the pain in his eyes melting into a tenderness that nearly steals your breath. "We're in this together, remember?"

You give him a smile, a small, trembling thing, and Rex returns the expression. The two of you lean back against the wall again, and he tucks his arm around you, drawing you back into the safety of his embrace.

"You're not a failure. Not by a mile. I don't know anyone else who could do what you do, or deal with everything you've dealt with, and still be standing," he murmurs, and his free hand reaches over to touch yours, his fingers ghosting along the scars that stretch across your palm. "You're amazing."

"That's sweet," you mutter, your face burning at his praise. "But you're biased."

Rex snorts a soft laugh and squeezes your hip. "Maybe. But I’m not the only one who thinks so. Ask the men. Ask anyone who's served with you. They'll all tell you the same thing. Hell, you can ask Lieutenant Price. The boys told me he has an impressive poster collection.”

“Oh, enough with the kriffing posters,” you grumble, burying your face in his chest.

He chuckles and rests his chin on top of your head, his arms encircling your waist. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying the feeling of being close to each other, and the weight that's been sitting heavy on your chest lifts, allowing you to breathe again.

"Thank you," you mumble, and Rex hums, the noise rumbling in his chest. You look up at him and add, "For...all of this. For listening. And for being here. For not giving up on me."

"I'll never give up on you," he promises, and the sincerity in his voice brings tears to your eyes. You quickly look away and press your cheek against his chest again, blinking furiously as you fight back the emotions. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," you say hoarsely, your voice muffled by the plastoid of his armor.

"I never do," he counters, and his hand moves to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair. He presses his lips to the crown of your head, and his breath is warm against your skin. "Not to you. I'm here, cyar'ika. Always."

Tears sting your eyes again, but they're tempered by the warmth of his words, the feeling of his breath on your head. The sound of the Mando'a rolling off his tongue sends a shiver down your spine, chasing away the cold dread that's been gnawing at the pit of your stomach and replacing it with curiosity. You've heard him say the word before, wrote it in a message once or twice, but he's never offered a translation.

You pull back and look up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"What does that mean?"

Rex blinks at you, a look of confusion passing over his features before his eyes widen, a flush creeping up his neck and spreading across his cheeks. He clears his throat and looks away, his gaze darting around the room before settling somewhere over your shoulder.

"What does what mean?"

"What you just said," you prompt, and his blush deepens, the color reaching the tips of his ears. You bite back a grin and poke him in the chest, trying not to laugh at his embarrassment. "You've said it before. What does it mean?"

"Uh, it's a...it's a nickname," Rex stammers, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. "A term of endearment."

"Oh," you reply softly. You duck your head, a smile spreading across your face, and you look up at him through your lashes. "Well, that's...that's nice."

Rex laughs nervously and nods, still not looking at you, and your grin widens.

"Do I get to know what it means?"

"I'll tell you later," he mumbles as he looks at the ceiling.

"Later?" you prompt, nudging his shoulder. "When is later?"

“After you rest," he replies firmly, finally meeting your gaze. Your lower lip juts out, and Rex shakes his head, his lips twitching as he tries not to smile. "No. I'm not falling for that this time. Now come here."

You huff and turn away, crossing your arms and glaring at the wall, but he doesn't give up. He pulls you into his lap, tucking your legs across his and resting his chin on the top of your head. You resist at first, but he's persistent, and eventually, you relent, allowing him to maneuver the two of you into a more comfortable position.

Rex shifts until his back is pressed against the wall and his legs are stretched out in front of him, and you curl into him, tucking your head beneath his chin and resting your hands on his chest plate. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, and you nuzzle his neck, inhaling deeply as his scent fills your lungs.

"Are you going to keep sulking, or are you going to close your eyes?" he asks after a beat, a teasing lilt to his voice. You sigh dramatically, and he snorts, the warm puff of air tickling the shell of your ear. "Fine, but I'm not moving until you do."

"I guess I have no choice, huh?" you grumble, though the smile is still on your face, a fluttery, giddy feeling swelling in your chest. "I suppose you win this round, Rex."

“I’ll mark the occasion in my calendar," he drawls, and you elbow him in the ribs. “On this day, General Anathorn gave in to Captain Rex. A glorious victory for the Republic."

"Asshole," you mutter under your breath. He snickers and tightens his arms around you, pulling you even closer. "You're lucky I'm too tired to keep arguing with you."

"I'll count my blessings while they last," he deadpans, earning another elbow. "Hey, watch it."

"Oh, sorry," you reply, not sounding the least bit apologetic. Rex gives a long-suffering sigh, but the arm around your waist remains where it is, his thumb stroking the fabric of your tunic. "Are you comfortable?"

"Very," he murmurs. "Are you?"

"Yes," you whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips. "This is nice. Being like this, with you. It feels...safe."

"Yeah," he breathes. "It does."

You hum contentedly and close your eyes, a yawn stretching across your face, and Rex chuckles, his nose nuzzling the crown of your head.

"I'll wake you if anything happens," he whispers as he grabs your outer robe and drapes it over the two of you.

You nod and press a light kiss to his neck, snuggling closer. Rex stiffens at the contact, his breath hitching before he relaxes, a pleased rumble emanating from his chest. The two of you fall into silence, his fingers tracing patterns along your back as your breathing begins to slow, the warmth of his embrace chasing away the chill that lingers beneath your skin.

It's easy to forget, wrapped up in his arms, the soft light of the rising sun painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. Easier than it should be. But you don't fight it, the comfort and security of his presence a balm to the fears and worries that plague your mind.

For a brief, fleeting second, everything is okay, and you're simply a man and a woman, lost in the warmth and affection between you. Nothing else matters. Not the war. Not the visions. Not the darkness that haunts you. Just this. Just the two of you. Together.

"Sleep," Rex murmurs, his voice a quiet whisper. "I'll be here."

And so you do.

taglist: @cyaretra @kindalonleystars @totallyunidentified @lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @etod @puppetscenario @umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano @burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @chocolatewastelandtriumph @hobbititties @mere-bear @thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @ayyyy-le-simp @mali-777 @schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @heavenseed76 @dreamie411 @sukithebean @bunny7567 @lostqueenofegypt @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus @heidnspeak @gottalovehistory @mrcaptainrex @maniacalbooper @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @julli-bee @moonychicky @sonicrainbooms @dustmusings @webslinger-holland @marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @cw80831

#the clone wars #captain rex #clone captain rex #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #roy writes #event horizon #congratulations lieutenant price you have been promoted #you are now one of my elite employees #if anyone has any ideas for his specialization lmk #also I did not spend days writing this chapter and neglect the next two #and I definitely did not spend the rest of my time color coding my timeline spreadsheet #that would be very silly of me to do that

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kermdoeswriting · 4 months ago

Text

"I wanna hire you"

Every last Friday of the month Jason, Kori and Roy partake in a small tradition.

They meet up for dinner in their respective cities, costume or not, and just catch up on the others respective lives.

It was a dumb tradition Roy had suggested when the Outlaws split up the first time, not wanting to let the others go with little communication in between them ever again. So here they were, New Years Eve being the last Friday of the month before ringing in the new year.

Lian was off hanging out with her friends for the holiday, choosing not to join them on their tradition this year which Roy was only slightly thankful for. Especially since it was Jason's turn this time which meant they'd be having dinner at his usual spot in Gotham.

Roy shed his coat the second he walked through the doorway of Joe's Diner. He was tired but not any more so than usual.

New Years Eve was always a harder day for Gotham. The crime rate always went up for the holidays rather than down, so it gave almost every vigilante here extra work to do alongside their usual duties.

But being able to visit was still the best part of making it to the end of the year.

"Happy New Year, Joe."

Joe, the owner way to used to the Outlaws shenanigans, just smiled back at him as he walked in. He had the usual to-go coffee cups in his hands.

"Happy New Year, Arse"

The two met up at the nearest table, Roy sliding into the booth as Joe handed him his own cup before turning around to the countertop to make his usual go to order.

"Any signs of Big Bat today?"

"Nothing nearby," He took a sip of his coffee as Joe continued on with his thought, still working on his sandwich order behind the counter. "But I'd reckon he's pretty busy considering the holiday"

Roy hummed in agreement while taking another swig of his drink. He honestly figured Jason would be late again, typical for him during the Holidays, and Kori would probably be over in a few minutes.

It wouldn't be a long wait.

He sighed and laid back against the booth chair contentedly, eyes shut to try and get some kind of rest before either of the 2 showed up. Roy tried to ignore the way he felt someone's eyes on him as he did so, hoping silently that whoever it was would just be a curious civilian and not anything crazy he would have to deal with.

But hope meant basically nothing in Gotham.

The person slowly approached him and Roy heard them harshly shove a backpack onto the table before he eventually opened his eyes lazily to look at the person intruding his peace.

It was a kid.

A very tiny looking girl, no more than 12 years old, hiding underneath a tattered looking Nasa hoodie that was basically swallowing her whole. Roy looked at her with curiosity as she seemed to examen him thoroughly, a hand still clutching her bag despite it being on HIS table.

"Are you Arsenal?" She eventually spit out bluntly, making Roy sit up sharply.

It was rare a real kid, one who wasn't a trained threat like Damian or any of the Titans, actually approached him and simply knew who he was. So her knowing him, despite being in costume, put him on edge a little bit.

"Well?" The girl snarked at his silence, looking more annoyed at the lack of response. Roy could feel his grey hairs getting longer by the second.

"Are you really Arsenal?"

She still had her sea-blue eyes trained on him between half hidden bangs and her hoodie as she asked. Roy just sighed into his cup of coffee quietly and nodded, watching as the girl brightened slightly and slide into Jason's usual booth seat.

"What's up kid? Isn't it a little late for you to be out in Gotham?"

The girl huffed at that comment, pulling her hood off of her head to truly look over at him. She seemed exhausted and much younger than he had originally assumed her to be. In a strange, heartbreaking way looking at her only reminded him of Lian when she had been that small.

"I'm not a kid." She snorted with a roll of her eyes before taking a sip of the hot cocoa Joe had silently passed to her with a ruffle of her hair.

"You look younger then 10. That makes you a kid, kid."

The girl huffed again before reaching into the torn bag Roy hadn't seen her pull off the table, digging as quickly as she could.

"Whatever, my age isn't the point. The point is I need to hire you to do something."

Roy almost choked on his coffee at that declaration, finally putting his cup down on the table. "I'm sorry what? What could you possibly need to hire me for? How did you even FIND out you could do that? You're like 10-"

"13" She interrupted, stopping her own search through her bag, unphased.

"Sure kid, 13 then. But still-"

The girl just groaned loudly to interrupt him again, kicking his legs harshly from underneath the table to shut him up officially. She took her attention back to her backpack while huffing and muttering under her breath in annoyance.

Eventually she finally seemed to grab whatever she'd been looking for, grinning again before turning to look back at him and slapping something onto the table. Roy looked down to see whatever it had been hesitantly, worried only a bit it'd be some kind of child concoction she had with her.

Instead he was met with 2 wads of cash, all 100 dollars, wrapped in what looked like glittery green rubber bands. Startled, he looked at the very obviously NOT 13 year old with money she also obviously did NOT usually have for any explanation.

The girl shrugged at his reaction.

"I also don't wanna just hire you." She responded pointedly between his shock as if it was obvious, taking a sip of her hot cocoa. "I want to hire the Outlaws."

Roy sighed and just tried not to give any answer just yet considering the situation. The girl took it as a sign of rejection and pushed the baggy of cash closer to him while slapping another wad of cash baggy towards him.

"Kid-"

"Not a kid."

"Okay, Not-a-kid then," Roy watched as the girl glowered at him before continuing. "What do you even need the Outlaws for that the police can't do?"

At that question the girl went quiet and slowly shrunk into herself against the booth seat, eyes trained everywhere but him. Roy immediately felt regret but didn't voice it.

"My siblings are missing." She eventually responds, her free hand brushing some of her bangs out of her face while sliding the money bags closer to her side again with the other hand. "They've been gone since Christmas Eve and I've tried everything to find them but no ones even tried helping me."

She sniffles slightly and Roy feels his heart breaks slightly as he watches her wipe her nose against the tattered hoodie sleeve.

"Everything?" Roy asks and he watches her nod, still not looking at him.

"The GCPD are too swamped with cases because of the holidays and we don't have any adults in our lives to help."

"What about Batman?"

Roy felt slight self justification at the way the girls face turned from crying into an angry scowl. As if he had just suggested her to take a swim in the Gotham Harbor.

"Fuck Batman"

He couldn't help but let out a choked out snort as he filed that tidbit away for later. Jason would like this kid.

"Got it. No Batman," Roy reassured her with a grin before continuing. "So what exactly made you choose us to find them?"

At that question the girl seemed to hide again, more so out of embarrassment this time rather then anything else, her cheeks tinged slightly pink.

"Red Hood's my favorite hero but he's hard to ask for help from and everyone knows that you work with him..."

Roy sighed again and felt his face pinch into a grimace. Of course it would be Jason's fault kids were approaching him for help with things. As much as Jason denied he was a helpful force to Gotham, it was pretty obvious to anyone who looked at the way he cared for Crime Alley that he was.

"Alright kid. Put the cash away, okay?" The girl eyed him suspiciously before doing as Roy said and sliding both bags back into her tattered backpack.

"Starfire and Red Hood are supposed to be here in a bit and when they get here we'll try and see how we can help you, okay?" Roy almost smiled again when he watched her eyes widen in surprise at him agreeing before going back to her neutral expression.

"Anything more you wanna tell me?"

The girl hesitated before nodding and speaking again.

"Me and my siblings are on the run from people who want us for... being different. If you help me find them, you have to promise we won't get caught by Batman or any one with some kind of government access." She spits out quickly, making sure to look Roy directly in the eyes as she talks about her conditions.

"If you try and turn us over to either of them, I will make sure you and the others don't have a grave to be laid to rest in."

Roy shivered slightly as she spoke the last part, her eyes flashing a bright green he didn't recognize as she tried to show him she was a true threat. He gripped his coffee mug, trying his best to not get worried over it since he knew she was just trying to protect herself and her missing siblings.

"Got it, you have my word. Any chance I can get a name for you?"

The girl looked him over again, her eyes having returned to the sea-green color they were before, eventually nodding in agreement to his request.

"You can call me Ellie. Most people do"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Or basically,

Ellie stumbles upon Arsenal at a diner late at night where she tries to hire him and the Outlaws into finding her siblings who went missing on Christmas Eve. Roy is just concerned this very obvious 8 year old wants to hire the Outlaws at all.

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to-the-stars8 · 4 days ago

Text

What Would You Like for Breakfast?

Jason Todd x Reader Ao3 NSFW 18+ Summary: You're shocked when the six-foot, scarred, hulking man you brought home from the bar tells you he's a virgin, but you'd be damned if you weren't going to make it good for him.

This is lowkey a sequal to this work, but this also works as a stand-alone!

Your kisses were hot and wet on Jason’s skin, marking a trail from his jaw, over his Adam's apple to his collarbone. As you worked to make him as pathetic as possible, his hands slowly, hesitantly, worked on your dress.

He started with the straps, hands slowly pushing each one off your shoulder before fumbling with the zipper at the back. While his hands were slightly shaking, yours worked with more confidence—Pulling his shirt over his head with such speed it was like you were afraid it would stick to him if you waited any longer. The belt on his jeans was unfastened before he could register it.

Jason was left a little breathless when he realized.

“The zipper,” he gasped against your lips. He gave the zipper a good, solid tug to prove that it wasn’t going anywhere. Its stubbornness made the nerves in his stomach churn.

You breathed a laugh against his mouth as you pushed away from him a little bit. Reaching behind you, you fiddled with the zipper in calculated, meticulous ways, like it was a puzzle.

“Damn thing,” You said with a giggle. After one more good tug, the sound of a ‘zip’ echoed in the mostly quiet room. As you shimmied out of your dress, holding onto Jason for support, you mumbled, “If I didn’t look so good in this thing, I would have thrown it out ages ago.”

Jason tried to laugh with you, but his mind was too distracted by your breasts. You must have noticed, because you took one of his hands and pressed it to your chest. He felt his cock harden as his thumb circled your nipple. You sighed and leaned up to press another hot kiss to his jaw, hands wandering his body.

“Let’s move to the bedroom, hm? I think this hallway has seen enough action,” You whispered against his ear before taking his hand. Jason followed you like a dog on a leash. “I promise my bed’s comfy.”

When Jason entered your room, he thought it was pretty. Fairy lights around the bed frame, fake plants in corners, books scattered here and there. It felt like a place he could relax. You turned around, hands flat against his chest as you backed toward the bed.

"I...I need to tell you something," Jason said suddenly. It had been eating at him since you left the bar.

You paused, your expression shifting. "What is it, baby?"

Jason swallowed and pushed the words out of his mouth as fast as he could. “I’ve never done this before.”

He was embarrassed and ashamed to be a virgin, more so since he was nearing twenty-three. But, he’d been working since he came back from the dead which left little time or desire to fuck anyone. Not that he was totally comfortable being touched by strangers when he first came back from the dead. It was your kindness, beauty, the comfort you made him feel, and cheesy jokes that got him where he was now.

That, and Roy had encouraged him to go home with you.

“Oh,” you said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Jason fiddled with his hands nervously, not sure what to say. When you patted the spot next to you, he did as you quietly commanded. There was a momentary stretch of silence before you finally spoke again. “Are you sure you want to do this with me?”

Jason finally felt himself take a breath. “Yes. If—if you want to, that is. I just…this isn’t just because you’re the first girl that—No, that came out wrong. I like you, and I’m attracted to you.”

You giggled, running your sweaty palms down your thighs before looking up at him. “You’re sure-sure about this?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

You nodded and rose to your feet. Jason started to follow, but you gently pressed a hand to his shoulder, guiding him back down. Stepping in close, you slipped between his knees, your forehead resting lightly against his.

As your nails scratched lightly through his hair, you mumbled against his mouth, “You mind taking these off for me?” You gestured down to his jeans. “Boxers, too.”

Jason, eager to please you, worked on getting himself free. Since his belt was already unfastened, all he had to do was work his jeans down his legs, his boxers going with them. You watched him closely, eyes drifting from his throat to his stomach, then lower. Kicking his jeans away, he sat before you, naked.

Your silence made Jason nervous. He glanced at your face, wondering if you were put off by his scars or something else.

When your gaze landed on his half-hard cock, your lips parted and your nails dug slightly into his shoulders. His hand reached up to lightly touch you, tracing a line from the curve of your hip up to under your breasts, making you look up to meet his gaze. A small smile tugged at your lips.

“You okay?” You asked.

“Yeah,” He breathed.

You ran your fingers through his hair again. “Good, baby. That’s good.”

Before Jason could muster any words, you slowly dropped to your knees, hands dragging down his front as you did. You kissed the side of his knees, lips moving closer and closer until he could feel your breath against the head of his cock.

“Is this okay, too?” You whispered, eyes flickering down to the leaking tip. Jason nodded, but you tutted and stood again. Your palms were flat against his knees as you leaned forward to get closer to his face. “I asked if it was okay if I sucked your dick? I didn’t hear a proper answer.”

Jason let out a breathless, almost disbelieving laugh as he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his. There was always something desperate in the way he kissed you, like each touch calmed the nerves. When he finally pulled back, his breath hitched, and his nose lingered against yours.

“Yes,” he murmured, voice rough. “It’s okay.”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you dragged your mouth along his jaw, then latched onto his neck, sucking hard enough to bruise. He twitched beneath you. You smiled against his skin before sinking to your knees again.

Your fingers curled around the base of his cock which was hot, heavy, and already slick. Jason gasped, head tipping back, fists twisting the sheets in white-knuckled fists. The sound made your stomach tighten with heat.

“Jason,” you whispered, letting his tip rest against your lips, teasing. A bead of pre-cum touched your mouth, and you licked it slowly, savoring the taste. “You’re so fucking pretty like this.”

He didn’t get the chance to answer.

You took him into your mouth and hummed low in your throat as he hit the back of it. What your mouth couldn’t reach, you stroked with your free hand. The other was shoved into your underwear, rubbing circles around your already swollen clit. You moaned when you felt him twitch in your mouth, your fingers moving to your core and pressing in.

“Oh, fuck,” he choked out, voice wrecked. Jason didn’t know what to do. He wanted to chase the high that was approaching, to fuck your mouth, but didn’t want to hurt you. Instead, he held back, watching as your head moved.

“Shit,” he seethed when you pulled off his cock with a ‘pop’. You didn’t want him to cum just yet, even though you were sure you would have loved the taste on your tongue.

You sat back on your heels, your fingers going back to working your clit for a second before you forced yourself to stop. When you looked back up, Jason was staring at you with half-lidded eyes as his cock bobbed up and down.

Taking your hand out of your underwear, you spread your fingers to show off the wetness trailing between them. Jason’s cheeks flushed as he stared down at you, mouth open in awe. You looked like heaven kneeling before him with your lips plump from kissing too much, smeared in pre-cum and spit, as you played with your clit over the fabric of cotton underwear.

“Did you like that?” You asked with a smile. Jason caught you as you wobbled a bit, knees a little sore from kneeling for so long, and you leaned into him.

“Yeah, that was—Fuck,” Jason breathed, his back hitting the bed. You were straddling him now, soft thighs caging his hips under you.

You giggled, leaning forward to kiss him. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, letting Jason taste himself. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer so that your breasts pressed against his chest.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Jason whispered. You moaned lightly against his lips, grinding down against his cock. He could feel your wetness through your underwear, sparking electricity through his whole body. “Fuck, you’re—you’re wet.”

“I am,” You said with a breathy laugh. “Wanna feel?”

You rolled to lie beside him, propping yourself up on your elbow and guiding his hand into your underwear. The soft squelch as his fingers met your folds made his breath catch. Your hand stayed over his, showing him how to touch you.

"Like that?" he asked.

You nodded, eyes fluttering. "Just like that. Oh—fuck, Jason, you’re doing so good, baby."

Lifting your leg, you guided his fingers to prod at your core. Jason seemed awestruck by how plush you felt when he pushed a finger into you, and how your body reacted. Your pussy fluttered around his thick finger as your hips began to grind down onto his hand. When he made a ‘come-hither’ motion, just like you had shown him, you cried out his name.

Pride bloomed in his chest, and he added a second finger. You gasped, hand gripping his bicep. His fingers stretched you, just a little, and filled you in a way you hadn’t expected.

“I,” You paused, gasping when he began moving his hand. “I don’t wanna cum, yet. You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.”

Jason leaned toward you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Why not?”

You whined, reaching down to grab his wrist to make him stop. He did, waiting for your next command. “Just…not yet.”

You pulled yourself off his hand, clenching around nothing once you were empty, before moving further up the bed. He followed, but you stopped with a hand on his chest.

“Condom?”

“Oh!” He hurried off the bed to where his jeans lay on the floor.

You watched Jason with a smile, pushing your thighs together and holding your hands close to your chest as the excitement rose. His big hands checked every pocket, turning them inside out, before checking his wallet. When that proved empty, he looked at you, embarrassed.

“I thought I had one, but I think I left it.” He dropped his jeans, standing at the end of your bed with his arms folded, like he was trying to shrink in on himself.

You smiled and reached over to your nightstand. You felt around for a second before pulling out a condom. “Best advice I ever received was always to keep one of these bad boys in your drawer.”

You urged Jason to crawl back onto the bed by reaching for his hand. He took it, and you positioned him between your thighs, each leg resting over his hips. Tearing open the wrapper, you held the condom up.

“You wanna put it on, or would you like me to do it?”

Jason laughed a little. “I think I’d like you to do it.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” You said with a coy smile.

His cock twitched when you touched it, and before you slid the condom on, you admired him. He was long and thick, flushed with precum beading on the tip again. No doubt he would give you a stretch—more of a stretching than that big hand gave you—but you craved it.

Once the condom was on, you lay back against the pillows, reaching down to guide him to your entrance. He poked at you slowly, bracing himself with a hand on either side of your head before easing in.

Your mouth fell open with a long, loud moan as his dick split you open. Jason groaned, leaning closer as he pressed deeper, bottoming out. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, catching your breath. Jason was broad—his body caging yours in a way that made you shiver. That alone was a pleasure you savored.

“How do you feel, baby?” you asked breathlessly.

Jason whimpered, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“I need to hear your words.”

“Good! Your pussy’s so good,” he whispered into your ear. “So tight.”

You moaned, nails digging into his sides as you mumbled back, “Then fuck it.”

His hips moved awkwardly at first, trying to find a rhythm. You helped him, guiding him to go slow and deep. Eventually, after shifting until you were nearly folded in half, he found it.

Every thrust hit your sweet spot, sending your eyes rolling back. His dick worked your pussy until you were seeing stars. For someone who didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, Jason was shockingly good at improvising.

“Kiss me,” Jason mumbled, turning his head.

You gave him a lazy kiss, too caught up in how your pussy fluttered around his cock. One hand threaded through his hair, pulling him in harder like you couldn’t stand to let go. But when he started thrusting faster, you broke the kiss with a loud cry.

“Jason,” you moaned, slipping a hand between your bodies to rub your clit.

“No,” Jason breathed. “Let me do it. Please, let me—I wanna—oh fuck—I wanna make you cum.”

That alone nearly sent you over the edge.

You moved your hand to his arm, clinging to him as your orgasm built. His fingers worked you just like you’d shown him—in slow circles that sent goosebumps across your skin. His hips snapped harder into yours, like this was the last fuck he’d ever get.

“Fuck,” Jason whispered. “I’m gonna cum.”

You pulled him into a wet kiss, whispering against his lips, “Shit, me too. Don’t stop—oh my God, don’t—”

You cried out into his neck, arms pulling him tight against you as your orgasm hit. Jason grunted, hips stuttering as he came, pressing deep like there wasn’t a barrier between you. A moment later, he collapsed on top of you, breathless.

You whispered sweet praise into his ear, fingers stroking through his hair.

When the room finally felt too hot, Jason pulled out slowly. Both of you let out soft moans at the separation. He rolled onto his back, catching his breath, while you draped your arm over your face, still floating in the afterglow.

After a few minutes, you felt the bed shift and saw Jason go towards your adjoining bathroom. When he was gone, a bit of anxiety filled your chest, wondering why he hadn’t said anything. Had you gone too far? Was this just a fuck and run? The sink was on, and a second later, the toilet flushed. Sitting up, you were about to call Jason’s name when he emerged from the bathroom.

“Where are your washcloths?” He asked.

“Under the sink,” You managed out.

Jason disappeared into the bathroom again. The faucet turned on before he re-emerged from the bathroom with a washcloth in hand. He knelt onto the bed, hesitating as he held the rag toward you.

“Can I wipe you down?” When you took too long to answer, he went on, “I mean, this is something people do, right? I know we’re both sweaty and…”

“Please,” You said quickly. “I’d like that.”

Jason nodded, running the rag over your skin, and you sighed. That encouraged him, and he moved to wiping your arms, around your breasts, and around your neck. There was a smile on his face, like he was enjoying the simple act of cleaning you up.

You stopped him after another few minutes, scooting closer to him as you asked, “Did you like it?”

Jason laughed a little before admitting, “I think I could get addicted to you.”

There was a moment of silence before you whispered, “I think I could get addicted to you, too.”

“Good, good,” He said, holding back his excitement.

Placing a hand on his, you asked, “I know I asked you at the bar, but what was it that you wanted for breakfast tomorrow?”

When the two of you looked at each other, there was something there. Something deeper than sex or any kind of physical contact. It felt new, electric, and rare. Yeah, this was the kind of thing that only existed in novels or movies—or so you thought. It wasn’t love yet, but it was the bud of it.

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