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Captain Rex was no stranger to falling.
It felt like he was always getting tossed off of things – whether by explosion, a force push that General Jinn had intended to use to get him out of the line of fire, or by a brother getting thrown into him – and while he was often caught by an enterprising brother or by his General, he just as often hit the ground in a bone rattling roll. Really, he was a pro at it by this point.
This time though, he wasn’t sure he was getting out of it.
Falling happened in phases. First, there was the jump or fall, when you realize that you aren’t close to the ground, and the excitement or fear that comes with it depending on how purposeful the fall was. At some point, your body realizes that you haven’t hit the ground yet. Your stomach drops faster than you are, and that’s when the fear and adrenaline really set in.
Rex had never fallen from this high up before.
He didn’t even think General Jinn had noticed that he had been knocked from the platform. They’d been fighting a troop of Separatist droids when the smugglers that they had been sent to meet with had appeared. It was a surprise to them all, but especially Rex and his men, when the smugglers had joined the fray wielding lightsabers of all things. He was pretty sure that was illegal.
Then again, the group apparently liked to call themselves pirates so maybe he should’ve expected something of the sort.
General Jinn, for one of the first times since he had been assigned Rex’s battalion, lost his composure at the sight. Rex couldn’t hear what they were saying over the sound of blaster fire, but his general had reacted pretty strongly to the appearance of the redheaded smuggler with a blue lightsaber. The redhead made what appeared to be a snide comment as he cut through a droid, and General Jinn practically bristled like a tooka.
Rex was so distracted by this argument - a stupid, shiny mistake that he was going to berate himself over for the rest of his life (for all that it was just until he became paste upon the ground) – that he didn’t even notice the droid coming at him until it had knocked him flying. After the initial shock and fear of being thrown, he did whatever he could to slow the fall, though there wasn't much. He spread his arms and legs out like a star and hoped he wouldn’t knock them against the edges of any platforms on his way down.
Avoiding a break wouldn’t actually change anything, but he hoped his final impact would be quick.
He’d made his peace with his death a long time ago, after all.
An arm wrapped around his waist.
He didn’t have any time to process the sudden change in movement or momentum, as the air started shifting around him in the tell-tale way it does when the Force is warping against gravity. Before he knew it, he was rolling onto a platform, with a lanky body clinging to his side. His head smacked against the hard metal ground as they tumbled to a stop, causing lights to spark behind his eyelids.
“Whoa there, are you okay?”
Rex blinked against the harsh light of the setting sun, his vision only clearing as a shadow moved over him, blocking the rays from his eyes. Hovering over him was… an angel?
He blinked again, realizing that the hit to his head had rattled him more than he thought. A flush crept up his neck, thankfully hidden by his armor. Above him, the man was looking at him with increasing worry the longer he took to respond. It seemed one of their smuggler contacts had not only leapt into the battle to help them, but also leapt off the platform to save him. Rex didn’t know how to process that – civilians (as much as smugglers were civilians) weren’t often concerned with the lives of his men outside of a few, such as Senator Chuchi or Senator Amidala.
The man was young, possibly younger than him, though it was always hard to tell for anyone who wasn’t a brother. He had curly, shoulder-length hair that framed a deceptively soft face. A scar cut harshly over his right eye. Rex licked his lips subconsciously.
“Shit, I knew I should’ve been paying better attention when Zur tried to teach me medic shit,” the man said, sounding almost frantic, “Can you hear me? You can just nod if so- or wait, better not, you just smacked your head. You could’ve broken your neck- kriff I am so not cut out for this .”
“I’m fine- I can hear you fine,” Rex finally managed to say, his voice scratching heavily against his dry throat, “Sir.” He tacked on hastily at the end, remembering himself. With a grunt, he started to push himself up and the man scrambled out of the way, so they didn’t collide.
“Hey, hey, hey. Easy,” he soothed, grabbing Rex by the arms but making no moves to stop him, instead helping him stay steady, “You took quite a tumble there. I’m Anakin, by the way. Anakin Skywalker.”
“CT-7567, Captain of Torrent Squad,” Rex responded automatically, falling back to designation rather than his True Name. Anakin frowned, his grip tightening on the captain’s arms. The ringing in his ears that started after the fall suddenly increased, though not enough that he couldn’t hear Anakin’s next words.
“That’s a number, not a name,” he observed with a growing anger. “Do the Jedi not let you have one?” Rex shook his head in denial, needing to dispel this misconception by his rescuer, but stopped with a wince, suddenly noticing the pain along the back of his head.
“The boys call me Rex,” he said, once he had stilled his head and the pain had dulled. Anakin relaxed at that, and the hair that Rex hadn’t noticed rising on the back of his neck and along his arms settled. The ringing sound faded, though not completely. The grip on his arms loosened and Anakin pulled away. Oddly, Rex suddenly found himself longing for the touch, but also slightly confused.
Most of the public didn’t seem to see them as much more than slightly fleshier droids, not even the clone chasers. Not only had this man jumped off of a platform in a city that rivaled Coruscant in height, but he actually expected him to have a Name? Rex tried to grasp at that train of thought, follow it through to the end, but it slipped through his fingers before he could manage.
“Well, Captain Rex,” Anakin said, a soft smile crossing his face, “Why don’t we get that helmet off of you so I can take a look at your head?”
Rex was glad, then, that the man had let go of his arms, as it allowed for him to reach for his helmet himself. However, his fingers fumbled with the clasps, the steady grip and coordination he was known for leaving him.
“Here, let me help,” said Anakin, his fingers coming up to his neck before hesitating, waiting for permission.
Rex swallowed, hoping the other man couldn’t feel it, but nodded once. Anakin’s hands searched along the bottom of his helmet, looking for the clasp with a delicate touch, skimming the edges of his throat with the tips of his fingers. His hands were warm, as if he had been sitting in the sun the entire day, soaking up its rays.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he found the clasp and slowly removed the helmet. Light flooded in, no longer muted by the visor and Rex sucked in a breath as he waited for his vision to clear. When he could see again, he met Anakin’s eyes and found himself thrown.
Anakin’s mouth had fallen open, and his eyes were wide. His cheeks had a splash of red crawling across them, highlighting freckles that Rex hadn’t even noticed before.
“Muna ja,” he whispered to himself.
Rex didn’t know what it meant, but something about the way Anakin said it, with such reverence, made his heart skip a beat.
“S-Sir?” Rex managed to stutter out after a minute of Anakin staring. The red deepened on the other man’s face, and he shook his head suddenly as if to clear it. He set the helmet down next to him, before reaching up towards Rex’s face, stopping millimeters from his cheeks, waiting for permission. Rex nodded again as well, and nearly closed his eyes when the man’s probing hands gently touched the sides of his head.
“There’s no reason to call me sir,” Anakin finally said, as his fingers dragged through Rex’s hair – just a little longer than he normally kept it, as he hadn’t had time to buzz it back down between their last engagement and this supposedly easy recon mission. As light of a touch as he had, Rex still couldn’t help but wince when it grazed the bump that was forming. “Sorry!”
“It’s fine, sir, not your fault,” Rex assured him thoughtlessly, “You did just save my life.”
“I think the concussion is at least a little bit my fault,” Anakin said sheepishly as he let go of his head and moved back, “It doesn’t look like you’re bleeding, which is good. I’m pretty sure you’re concussed, though. You feel… fuzzy.”
Rex’s mouth once again moved without his permission, “Sorry, I haven’t had time to shave it.” That got a laugh out of Anakin and Rex clamped his mouth shut in embarrassment.
“No, no, I meant your presence in the Force, sorry,” he said with a wave of his gloved hand, before flashing the captain a grin that was wide and… flirty? Shit, Rex hadn’t been trained for this. “’Sides, Captain, I think that your hair looks perfect the way it is. Maybe you should keep growing it out- distract the Seps with your good looks? Always seems to work for Obi-Wan.”
“Obi-Wan?” Rex asked, for lack of anything better to say, though the name did sound familiar. The blush from earlier was crawling its way back up his neck and face.
He wanted to put his helmet back on, hating having his face bare and vulnerable like this around someone he didn’t know. The armor felt like it protected him not only from the Seppies, but also from attractive men with heartbreaking smiles. But he had a feeling that would be a bad idea, judging by the low, steady throb in the back of his head. Anakin laughed again as he pushed himself to his feet. Rex liked the sound.
“My older brother, and technically my captain. Though I am always open to new applicants,” he said with a wink, his grin never flagging. That blush took over full force, and Anakin practically preened at the sight. “Do you think you’ll be able to stand?”
Instead of answering, Rex pushed himself onto his knees and was thankful when the world stayed mostly level. Actually getting his feet under him was more difficult, but Anakin was quick to reach out and help, only letting go when it was clear he’d be able to hold his own weight.
Once Rex was stable, Anakin turned away from him, letting him breathe for a minute while not pinned by that piercing gaze, and looked up with a calculating expression.
“We took a long fall,” he noted with some amusement, crossing his arms, “But I should be able to get both of us back up there in no time, if you don’t mind me carrying you. The movement won’t be great for your head, but it would be hard to get any sort of evac all the way down here.”
“Whatever is most efficient, sir.”
Anakin turned back around with a childish pout on his face. “I told you that you didn’t need to call me sir.”
Rex gave him a look, stubbornness and decorum not allowing him to concede the fact. This day and this meeting had rattled him enough already. Sometimes when you had nothing else, the regs were the only thing keeping you steady. His legs sure weren’t quite doing the job right now.
Instead of responding, he bent over slowly to pick up his helmet. Anakin made a jerky movement, obviously wanting to keep helping, but held back. Rex appreciated the fact, and with minimal pain or ear ringing, was able to retrieve the lost bit of armor. He thought again about putting the helmet back on but decided against it. Make it easier for Kix or one of the other medics to get to it as soon as possible, too.
“Thanks for catching me,” Rex said once he turned back to the smuggler. Anakin gave him a boyish grin as he wrapped his arm around his waist, getting ready for the first jump.
“Captain, I would welcome you in my arms anytime.” Rex’s grip on his helmet tightened at the flirty words, but he didn’t get a chance to respond before Anakin was leaping into the air, the Force swirling around them like the wind across the desert.
They hopped from platform to platform, the Force bolstering each additional leap like the tower game that some of the shinies had downloaded from the ‘net when they thought the COs weren’t paying attention (jokes on them, it seems like half of the officers are playing it in their downtime now). With frequent half-stops, it took significantly longer than the initial fall. Anakin had been right. As still as he tried to keep Rex, tucked against his side, the captain’s vision started swimming again. Closing his eyes helped a little.
Even still…
Rex couldn’t help but want it to go on as long as possible, wrapped up in the grip of this criminal with a smile like a Mandalorian legend.
Unfortunately, it didn’t last long, and before he knew it, he could hear the sounds of the plasma singing in the lightsabers, though it seemed the battle was over.
“Anakin! You need to stop jumping off of things with no warning!” The redheaded man called out as soon as the pair touched down on the platform.
Anakin didn’t even remove his arm from around Rex before responding, a whine clear in his voice. “Come on, Obi-Wan, I couldn’t just let him fall! And I didn’t want to distract you!” Obi-Wan placed the hand that wasn’t clutching a lit lightsaber on his hip, looking every bit the disproving older brother that he clearly was to Anakin. Something in Rex that had been raised by brothers his whole life straightened at the sight, though Anakin just dug his heels in, tightening his arm around the captain’s waist. “Especially considering the moment it started, you were arguing with Jinn.”
“Or you just don’t want to admit you didn’t think about it at all before you leaped?” the third smuggler jumped in, shooting a smirk at Anakin. Rex blinked in surprise, mostly at how young she sounded. He knew General Ti and didn’t think Togruta came that small.
“Hey!” Anakin protested, using his free arm to point an accusing finger at the kid, “You have no right to be lecturing me about rushing ahead with no thought!”
“What, you can dish it but can’t take it?”
“Children,” Obi-Wan drawled, raising a disapproving eyebrow at the both of them. The Togruta stuck her tongue out at Anakin (which he eagerly returned) but said no more, backing down with nothing but a look from their captain. “Is there a reason you are still clutching onto the trooper like you’re escorting him to a gala?” Anakin straightened up and his face turned serious, ignoring the teasing tone of the words.
“He needs to see a medic. I managed to catch him, but he hit his head pretty hard on impact,” he said, turning to look at the gathered troopers and saber wielders. Patch popped out from the back of the crowd, helmet on but head tilted forward in such a way that Rex could tell he was frowning.
“Sir, do you think you could walk on your own?” Patch asked after giving the briefest salutes. Shinies, always so worried about being proper.
“I should be well enough once you get me away from the edge,” Rex told him, not bothering to hide the wry twist to his lips even though his helmet wasn’t in place to hide his expression.
Anakin seemed reluctant to let him go but was careful in his transfer of Rex to the baby medic. Once he was secure, the smuggler walked over to join the rest of his crew with just the barest backwards glance. Anakin flicked the Togruta on the forehead when he got to her and she playfully snapped at his hand, a dance that was as affectionate as it was practiced.
“Are we done now?” General Jinn asked, speaking for the first time since Rex and Anakin had rejoined the group. He held his lightsaber stiffly, pointed at the ground but poised to resume fighting the second it was needed. He barely took his eyes off of Obi-Wan and seemed frustrated that the man wasn’t treating him with the same caution.
Of course, even concussed Rex could tell the man wasn’t actually relaxed, but he was also backed up by two other lightsaber wielders. So he maybe had a reason to not be as worried. The 501st may not have a Padawan Commander itself – much to the chagrin of many of the men – but they had been on plenty of joint missions, especially with the 212th, that showed them how if one Jedi was deadly, two were a force of nature. Let alone three!
“Quite so,” Obi-Wan responded once Anakin was with him, turning off his lightsaber and sliding it into the holster strapped to his thigh, “We have a job to finish. Anakin, Ahsoka.” He gestured at the pair of them.
“You will not ,” General Jinn said, his hand tightening around his still lit saber. The spacer captain didn’t visibly react to the threat, but both Anakin and Ahsoka’s hands strayed towards their own holsters.
“Won’t we? What are you going to do? Arrest us? We haven’t done anything wrong,” Obi-Wan said airily, smirking at the obviously fuming Jedi.
“You have at least three warrants out for your arrest right now-”
“All of which are in Separatist space,” he cut him off and crossed his arms, the smirk only growing, “I know that diplomacy is your game, but by my calculations that should put me firmly on your side of the war, don’t you think?”
“That’s exactly what we still need to discuss,” the general insisted, gritting his teeth, “You have information that you agreed to give us.” It was truly a sight to see. General Jinn was known for keeping an aloof yet almost mischievous air about him, and it was rare for him to really lose his cool like he was doing right now.
Oh, Rex and the others had seen the quiet anger that could sometimes overtake him on the field, when the droids were mowing down civilians without a care, but the Jedi was very good at reigning it in. This teeth gnashing and threat display was new to him. Something about this smuggler really set the man off. Later, when Rex’s head was clearer, he’d think on it more.
“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, as if he just remembered something, though they all knew it was a front. Anakin smirked but gave a fond roll of his eyes at his brother’s showboating. Ahsoka hid a snicker behind her hand. “You mean this little old thing?” Obi-Wan pulled out a data chip.
“Yes.”
“I guess we did agree to hand it over, and Quin has already given me the information that I needed,” the man tossed the chip at General Jinn, who caught it easily, “Well, if that’s everything, guess it’s time to go!” Before the general could say anything, he tossed the group a jaunty salute and took a running leap off the edge of the platform.
One trooper – CT-9001, a shiny who hadn’t gotten a name yet – jolted slightly and looked over the edge. They looked up and signaled to the rest an all clear, but Rex could tell that they were startled. Shinies, he thought again fondly.
“Until next time boys!” Ahsoka was nothing more than a blur as she leapt past the shiny, giving them a little Force push when they teetered in surprise right next to the edge to make sure they didn’t fall the way Rex had. With two of the smugglers gone, he turned to look at Anakin.
In a flurry of movement, Rex suddenly felt a firm pressure on his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. Anakin pulled back with a pleased grin and a wink, before spinning on his heel and hurrying after his brother and- sister?
General Jinn made an incomprehensible noise high in the back of his throat.
“Catch you later, Captain!” He called over his shoulder. Rex lifted a hand to his cheek, still feeling slightly disoriented by the whole event. He continued to watch as the smugglers leapt from the platform, likely heading towards a transport that they had hiding somewhere in the lower levels. The flush returned and the spot where Anakin had kissed him tingled beneath his fingers.
Patch made an embarrassed noise from where he was still holding him up. Rex felt a flood of mortification that he was sure even Anakin and his siblings could feel from below. He had forgotten that he was still in the arms of the shiny.
“Careful, brother, you look like you’ve been hit over the head, and not because of the obvious concussion,” Kix said, a smirk clear in his voice as he approached the group. He signaled for Patch to let him go, and the medic did, relieving him of the bucket that was still clutched under his arm. Rex glared at Kix with an increasingly red face.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”