Chapter Text
Exhaustion has tethered itself to the pair of Solari and the guesstimate of a day's travel is looking more like a pipe dream with each step.
To put it plainly, Pyke is miserable. His legs are shaky and his arm throbs every time it bounces in its sling. Little feral volts of pain are a constant; shooting up and down from wrist to shoulder.
He's trying not to be the weakest link. Alara knows neither of them can afford it in a place like this but Pyke is practically a ghost on his feet.
They make it at least far enough not to see the crash site anymore when Rex comes up on Pyke's side.
Shoulder to shoulder it's just a reminder how much taller the orange Solari is. Especially when he reaches to touch Pyke's good elbow. A feather light request for attention that draws them to a stop.
Instead of speaking, Pyke hums, rolling his head up to inspect his comrades face.
With a bit of a jolt he finds eyes watching with a voracious intensity. Rex's eyebrows are pinched and his mouth is drawn into a pressed line of displeasure.
“Why don't we take a break?” He offers softly, moving his hand from Pyke's arm to point out a small creek close by.
“There's water and hopefully some kind of food nearby.”
It's insightful, shockingly so, and before he can stop himself Pyke hears his own voice rasp, “when did you become such a boyscout?”
There's only amusement and a wink as Rex seemingly refuses to answer. Instead he nudges, gently corralling a willing Pyke down to the stream where blessedly flat rocks lay.
Unable to stop, Pyke is plopped down onto one of the rocks as Rex starts to quickly bounce around the area.
It gives Pyke a moment to blink and try to right his frazzled mind.
Even if he's fucking tired he's still shocked that Rex is moving him so easily.
Maybe it's the adrenaline crash, maybe Pyke is even more put out than he thought.
Maybe…his traitorous brain whispers, it's sort of…
Pyke snaps his head to the side to quickly dispel that train of thought.
He focuses on the only thing available in the area and finally drinks in Rex's outfit of choice.
It's a vast difference from all his other obnoxious attire from the TV shows and casinos and fan meets.
Rex wears black slightly baggy pants that feed into the top of functional knee high boots. His shirt, once a pristine red, is open almost to his navel. Whatever buttons having survived the crash are the only things keeping the shirt on his frame.
There's another top underneath. Something practically skin tight that draws the eye to voluminous pecs and elegant collar bones.
Pyke knows his face must be aflame as he assesses his companion, yet, there's something missing. Some part of the outfit that felt eye-catching and large.
His gaze absently drops to the fabric now supporting his broken arm but before the thought can go further something is offered into his field of view.
It's a water bottle, banged up and grimy but functional all the same.
Pyke blinks and takes the offering, eyes flicking upward to where Rex stands.
“Here,” the taller Solari coaxes, “take this. I'm gonna see if there's anything edible nearby.”
The sudden thought of Rex venturing away makes Pyke tense; it must show on his expression because Rex adds quickly, “just a litte! Not far. We'll still be able to see each other.”
Smothering any sense of relief, Pyke takes the offered item and murmurs, “just don't get jumped. We don't know what literally any of the chimera are capable of.”
After a moment's hesitation, he adds softer, “thanks.”
A little noise of acknowledgement rumbles from Rex, his head bobbing before he quickly stalks off to inspect the foliage.
In the end Pyke is glad that Rex has moved away. It dawns on him only as he realizes how thirsty he is that the water bottle is a twist cap and he's down one hand.
With a scrap of pride still left in his heart, Pyke plants the bottle between his thighs. Small grumbles and curses vibrating in his mouth as he awkwardly twists off the cap to take a swig.
What he's greeted with is surprisingly neutral water. It doesn't really taste like sediment or debris from the river and when Pyke inspects it closer he sees why.
There's a bit of mesh that's been screwed between the lid and the bottle. A sort of fabric strainer meant to block out as much unpleasantness as possible.
Now Pyke is dead certain that Rex has received some kind of training because only survivalists think of this kind of shit.
Not to say he's ungrateful.
No, it's just another grain of strangeness to distract Pyke from the greater picture.
He decides to savor each sip, it's unlikely they'd get to Omicron by the night and who knows when they'd find running water next.
Lost to thoughts of water bottles and pretty smiles, there's a noise, so soft that it's practically a sigh.
Pyke stiffens, ears flickering as all other thoughts stop dead.
Something is moving.
It's not far away; doesn't sound like the direction Rex is in.
Pyke shuts his eyes and attempts to draw focus. Tries to center himself and slow his rabbiting heart to stretch the fingers of his other senses.
A few more twigs just barely crunched under a foot, a paw maybe. Something light enough to caress them but not smash them into the ground.
Anxiety dogs at his spine, arriving with pinpricks of dread.
Were they already spotted? Was it small? Was it even a chimera?
How the fuck is he supposed to get Rex?
That last thought is met with some hesitance but Pyke quickly knows he needs to admit it. Whether he likes it or not, and he really doesn't, he needs Rex.
“Hey-”
Air fans gently next to one of Pyke's ears and he twists away in shock. A gasp of pain and surprise ripping from his throat as he's effectively scared shitless by the taller Solari.
“Fuck!” Rex almost falls backwards, his arms full of something as he staggers to catch himself and looks at Pyke in wild surprise.
“What the hell! Are you okay!?”
The items are carefully dumped by Pyke's side before fluttering hands try to touch him.
Pyke nearly hisses on reflex, his whole body curled protectively over his broken arm.
But there's no time for any of that.
With as much strength as he can muster, Pyke lunges and grabs Rex with his good hand.
“Quiet!”
Rex stills almost immediately, his face slack and soft with confusion; he must sense the fear because he's crouching close to Pyke in the next second.
Orange eyes never leave Pyke's, waiting for a command, a message, whatever it is Pyke is trying to convey.
Now that he's got a hand on Rex there's a bit of comfort and Pyke tries desperately to listen for the noise once more.
They sit and wait for mother nature to come creeping back in and for the twigs to snap.
There is only silence.
One beat, two, eventually Rex touches Pyke and their eyes meet again.
“I heard something,” Pyke feels crazy for saying it, feels paranoid beyond even what he usually is.
But Rex tenses and up close Pyke watches as fire lit pupils shrink to pinpricks.
That gaze snaps away, seeking, tracking. As if the forest will give up her secrets and Rex need only to look long enough to find them.
More beats go by, bringing in a gentle breeze that fluffs both of their hair. Neither Solari moves, two little statues poised against a rock as they wait to see if death has come again.
Yet still silence is the only thing that answers back.
Eventually Rex's eyelids flutter and the next look he gives Pyke is apologetic.
“Sorry, I don't hear or see anything. What was it?”
It makes Pyke feel only a smidgen less crazy.
“Snapping twigs,” he says, “from somewhere behind us. Didn't last long but….”
Pyke shrugs and cringes, ignoring Rex's chide of, “stop doing that!”
The orange Solari huffs a small sigh and nods. “Well, let's just keep that in mind. I, uh, brought some stuff?”
He redirects Pyke's attention to a small pile of nuts and fruit and beams like he's a golden retriever who's done a good job.
With careful fingers Pyke picks through the pile, mild confusion and interest warring inside him.
He eyes the haul and asks, “are you sure these are edible to us? I don't think I've ever seen anything like this before.”
For a moment Rex looks offended, “what- yes! I've eaten these on this planet before. It's not bacon and eggs and shit but it'll do.”
Pyke is thunderstruck by the concept that he's acting like an ungrateful asshole and quickly says, “look I just don't want either of us to get hurt. I don't know if any of the chemicals from Omicron leaked out this far and tainted the local plants.”
Thankfully this seems to pacify Rex, who continues to squint at Pyke for several more seconds before finally nodding.
“I know. But we can't not eat.”
As if summoned, one of their stomachs growls in a sickly snarl and Pyke blows out a tiny noise.
With help from Rex, he manages to eat some of the fruits and they're surprisingly good.
The colors and textures are odd, but overall Pyke feels confident he's staved off starvation for now.
Rex is nimbly peeling a fruit with a small knife. Long, delicate fingers dancing round and round as the peel unspools.
It's comforting to watch, Pyke thinks idly. “I don't remember you ever doing anything like this on your shows.”
The knife stutters and slows for a moment and Rex blinks, then he flashes that infuriating smile.
“Why Pyke, I'd almost think you're interested in me.”
Heat pools in the tips of pink ears and Pyke scowls. “Don't ruin it. I'm just shocked you can handle a knife without stabbing yourself.”
A playful pout overtakes the taller Solari's face and slowly his hands begin moving again.
“Oh c'mon, I've always had useful skills!”
Before Pyke can cut in, Rex adds quickly, “maybe not stuff you'd consider useful but it's still useful.”
Pyke considers every single survival thing Rex has done to be incredibly useful.
He almost says it but a piece of fruit is popped into his mouth just as it opens.
A squeak of surprise catches in his throat as he starts to chew, shooting a baleful look at the giggling Solari before him.
Rex takes a sliver for himself and munches clearly pleased with his shenanigans.
It's just so fucking Rex but also so… “different.”
A quizzical look is cast his way and Pyke realizes he's muttered it out loud.
“The fruit,” he stutters, “uh, it's weird. Like an apple almost but not?”
Rex considers this and makes a little noise of affirmation, “like an apple and a peach or something.”
They make quick work of their snack and Rex bags the remainders in a small pouch he's been harboring. Strangely he seems pleased when he notices Pyke has drained the water bottle.
“I'm gonna fill this back up and then we should go.” The bottle is already being confiscated before Pyke can utter his affirmation. He simply huffs, itchy fingers absently drifting to and from his pocket.
Alara help him, he really should stop smoking.
The urge is getting ridiculous.
By some burst of willpower Pyke stands and stalls his fluttering fingers. No cigarettes, the smell alone would give them away before either Solari could blink.
So on healthier feet he steps his way down to the creek where Rex is just standing, a fresh round of water in the beaten water bottle.
Without a word they step in tandem once more, maneuvering down and back up the slope to the next hill range.
Another handful of hours creeps by in this way. Walking, a break for Pyke, nibbling on fruits and a companionable silence.
It makes Pyke feel like a toddler and he's loath to admit it's the only reason he's able to walk as far as he does.
He's just…so fucking tired. Like a battery that's been drained to its very dregs and is somehow still holding on.
The food and water and breaks are helping but even those can't stop the eventual exhaustion that catches back up to them.
Rex does his careful jostling for attention and frowns when Pyke takes too long to turn his way.
“You're falling asleep on your feet,” he says, as much an accusation as a worried observation.
Pyke just huffs, casting a bleary gaze around the darkening woods.
“We're definitely not making it to the site today,” he replies and hopes Rex understands his meaning.
One solid arm practically drags Pyke to the base of a tree and he makes a valiantly attempt to thrash on instinct.
It earns him a nip of pain as Rex pinches him.
“Did you just pinch me?!” Pyke gasps, the actual audacity. “I'm dying on my feet and you're pinching me.”
That throws Rex's momentum off, clearly he hadn't expected Pyke to be so scandalized and before he can stop himself a little snort escapes.
“Ah, uh yeah? C'mon we're just gonna sleep for a bit then we'll get there tomorrow.”
Being benevolent, Pyke decides the only reason he doesn't kick Rex in the ass for laughing at him is because he needs the help sitting down.
Which, wisely, Rex does with swift yet measured movements.
His arms are placed around Pyke, one hand on the small of his back and the other slinging Pyke's good arm around his shoulder.
They sink to the ground with minimal jostling and it's really beginning to dawn on Pyke how much he slams his arms into things.
He sends a little prayer to Alara that he'll try to be more mindful from now on.
No promises but he'll do his best.
Thankfully the ground is dry and firm but not in an overly uncomfortable way. It definitely beats being on his feet.
Warm breath tickles along Pyke's hair when Rex blows out a slow, measured sigh. His next words are full of amusement and concern.
“Is it comfy? I know it's not a bed but moss is like nature's bed, right?”
Pyke giggles.
It sort of just bubbles up, startled and pure and Rex makes a reflexive noise of laughter in return.
They look at each other, both blinking and Pyke tries to ignore the burning in his cheeks.
He whips his head to the side in a show of studying the moss.
Rex fidgets with something in the meanwhile and a thick, heavy material is suddenly draped over Pyke like a blanket.
He startles, looks down to quizzically study what's been draped over him and sees some kind of blanket of leaves.
Pyke's brow furrows as he studies it; fingers brushing fabric before it dawns on him what it is.
It's a jacket.
It's Rex's jacket, the one Pyke now recalls him wearing when he'd been stranded on the shards of his broken ship.
What was once pristine, white fabric is now a muddied brown and green and all sorts of foliage has been sewn into it. It looks like a jacket of moss and leaves.
Like a-
“It's a gilly suit,” Rex supplies, his hands making busy little adjustments to the way it covers Pyke.
“Not my best work but this isn't a fashion statement so it'll do.”
Pyke carefully takes a corner of exposed fabric and rubs it between his fingers. He realizes where else this has come from and asks, “did you make my sling out of this?” Then, awed and bewildered, “when did you even have time to do this?”
Rex looks flustered, like he's been caught.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, I needed to put your arm in some kind of sling right?”
Their fingers pluck briefly at the same patch of fabric, fingertips lightly bumping.
“I had to do something while you slept didn't I?”
It's said in a joking lilt but Pyke takes it as confirmation of what he now knows.
“Rex,” his words are slower, careful, “have you slept at all?”
Silence is the response.
It's glaringly telling and this time Pyke throws a small, well-aimed punch at Rex's thigh.
He gets a tiny “ow!”
Voice sharp and chiding, Pyke snaps “you haven't slept at all, we sleep in shifts.”
Rex looks like he wants to protest but he grumbles, fingers kneading the spot Pyke had punched.
Once satisfied they begin to settle and Pyke surveys the height of the sun.
It's skittered far across the sky now, leaving waves of oranges and pinks in its wake.
It's too late to move and it would take way too long to move Pyke with care if they tried.
“You sleep first at least,” Rex mutters, “I'm not the one who broke his fucking arm and almost died.”
Pyke wants to be irritated but he knows Rex is right. It's not like it matters either way, their shared body heat is already making Pyke drowsy.
So with a long-suffering sigh he nods and closes his eyes.
“Not for long,” he says firmly, a promise of pain if Rex doesn't do as he's told.
“Not for long,” Rex replies, exasperation and amusement at war in his tone.
“Just go to sleep, Pyke.”
Whatever argument might come next simply lapses into hums and mumbling.
Pyke is asleep before his head hits Rex's shoulder and the night marches forward.
+
Rex Maxim stares into endless darkness, two flickering flames of humming solar energy survey their surroundings with a predator's intent.
At his side he feels a gentle warmth, Pyke is partially curled into him, pliant with sleep.
It hadn't taken long for the smaller Solari to pass out at all, which meant he had been exhausted and had stubbornly said nothing.
This isn't news to Rex, he knew how muleish Pyke could get.
It was as charming as it was absolutely infuriating.
As if in reply, Pyke lets out a faint huff and Rex can't help the smile that tugs at his lips.
His free arm comes up to brush at a velvety supernova. Fingers twirl, catching and twisting wisps of it and Rex thinks if he looks hard enough he could see a whole universe in Pyke's unruly curls.
Despite their predicament and Pyke's condition his hair has remained soft. It feels like silk, and Rex indulges in playing with it until he hears a rustle.
Eyes snap forward.
Something is watching.
Night vision doesn't immediately bring it into view. It stalks just behind the close treeline, winding around pines like a great serpent.
They watch one another, glinting green and orange.
It's hard to tell if it truly sees them or is picking up on a scent. Rex had tried to cover them up as best he could but he knows there are gaps. Knows that no matter how much they're covered there's still an incredibly gentle glow from both Solari.
Pyke much less so, but glowing all the same.
Rex slowly bares his fangs, prays they glitter in even the dimmest moonlight.
He hopes he looks evil, feral, like he'll rip its throat out for daring to look their way.
After a moment's hesitation, the beast seems to lurch and slowly, so slowly, it moves.
Its great body twists and trails off until it’s swallowed whole by the void and Rex pulls Pyke closer.
He hears a huff of displeasure at being jostled but no amusement can make it past the anxiety running tight through his veins.
Pyke sleeps and Rex watches, free hand now gripping the knife he keeps in his pack.
The night lumbers on.