It had been a week and two days since the memory wipe and he was still on edge.
Of course, as the sixth deadliest man on the planet, he knew how to hide his wariness well. Providence HQ was…a relatively safe place to be in, but that can be easily dismissed when one loses six years' worth of memories. With all the similar-looking hallways, the bland monochrome of a paintjob and the faceless grunts scurrying about as he walked, the building had every potential to turn into a maze. He was the sacrifice unwillingly thrown in, his each and every step most likely leading closer to the monstrous Minotaur.
He spent three days just plain walking around, taking into note every nook and cranny and memorizing which vent lead to where and which rooms had windows he could jump out of without dealing major injury on himself.
And then there were the people.
The faceless grunts didn't matter to him. They respected him out of fear, making their way to get out of his way. Their awe was almost palpable when he single-handedly took down a Level Two EVO on Day Four and he had trouble hiding his pleased smirk in front of them all. That Captain Calan guy seemed to know him a little better and told him with a pat to the shoulder that it was alright to show his satisfaction after a mission like that. The grunts would still see him as the resident ninja-assassin-slash-aggro-nanny, if not fear him a little more.
Speaking of being an aggro nanny.
His charge, Rex Salazar, was an interesting EVO specimen. And a generic pain in the ass. He was a teenager, what more can he say? Admittedly, he could be a good fighter when he puts his mind into it, as demonstrated in Day Five's training session. He did have him for a mentor after all.
But it was more than that, he could tell. Apparently, five of his six lost years were spent watching over the kid, not just simply mentoring him on combat techniques. Rex obviously looked up to him and, though he wouldn't outright say it anytime soon, saw him as the father-figure he couldn't remember ever having. The teen's recklessness and unconditional trust in him reminded him of his own adolescence with One.
It was actually kind of unnerving, how much he trusted his life with an amnesiac mercenary.
And then there was the woman, the scientist lady. Now, Rebecca Holiday was indeed a fine specimen of the opposite sex. Her intellectual prowess accentuated her stunning figure, making her more than just a pretty face or another Providence-hired genius. He could even go as far as regard her as the best representation of beauty and brains.
And yet.
…no one ever knew it, but he only hits on ladies he has had a thorough background check on. It was a precaution he had drilled into his brain ever since that one mission he had nearly lost his head in, where the seemingly nameless club patroness he was trying to woo to his bed had actually been a counter-mercenary his target had hired. The fallout had been messy, bloody and almost ended up with him castrated.
So yeah.
Yet he had flirted with the good doctor right off the bat, right after he had been rendered semi-clean slate by that goddamned Latino lunatic and his machine. No background check was needed when it came to her. He had been instantly disarmed by her jade green eyes and her warm smile and brought down to his knees by her brilliant blaze of a personality. By Day Six, he realized he would move mountains and carve valleys and destroy worlds for her.
It looked like somewhere down five of those six years, he had fallen hard for Rebecca Holiday.
He could go to White Knight for advice, for some good words from a good friend, but there ran unacknowledged between them a tension so stretched, it could snap with just the right (or wrong) pressure point. He had vaguely learned by Day Eight that he and Rex were somehow involved with White's isolation and appointment as current head of Providence and from those tidbits of info and that still hanging tension, he could tell it hadn't been pretty in the very least.
Nine days of snooping around and casually observing garnered him this much: He loved Rex Salazar like the son he never had, he loved Rebecca Holiday – there was no other way to put it and there was no use in deluding himself otherwise – and something happened between him and White Knight that caused a Grand Canyon of a rift to form between them. He would gladly die for the first two if it meant sparing their lives and the last one made him feel like he was treading on landmine-infested ground.
The him who had turned from the shadows and grown tall and firm in those six lost years sure seemed like a mighty piece of work.
But if he wanted to be that him again, he should better start working harder.
~(6 + X)~
"And you're sure this would work."
It wasn't a question, she noted with a hidden smile. Even as an amnesiac, Six was as blunt as he could ever be. Obviously peeved, his statement was demanding with an undercurrent of menace, just enough to have this situation speed up like how he wanted.
They all stood in her lab, she, him and Caesar. Said Hispanic scientist fiddled with the remote control in his hand a bit, possibly to hide his nervousness from Six's hard stare. Said agent glared at him a little longer before switching his glare to the circlet-like device on the metal examination table.
"Sure? Of course, I am!" Caesar declared then lowered his voice. "Well, 90.667% sure it wouldn't blow up."
The raised eyebrow was a sign that Six caught the mumble. With a synchronized flick of his wrists, his primary weapons came out of his suit jacket's sleeves and she had to stifle a laugh at the Hispanic scientist's flinch. She watched as the green-clad agent used one of his magna blades to carve a series of lines on the flat of the other, the light scratching sound brought about by the action slightly grating on her hearing.
"Six, what are you doing?"
He didn't look up at her question and just went on with what he was doing. Frowning, she came nearer to him and it was only then that he answered, albeit still preoccupied.
"It's something I…used to do in my former line of work. Should I find myself in a scenario that would most likely end up with me disoriented or losing track of the objective, I would leave a coded message on my sword. That way, I would be reminded of in the near future who I should kill and how I should kill them."
She ignored the gulp from the other man in the room, keeping her eyes on her target. Taking the circlet, she stepped into his personal space and looked up at him.
"Look," she started, trying to sound reassuring and serious at the same time, "I know you're scared – "
"I'm not."
" – but you have nothing to worry about. I helped Caesar on this one so it won't blow up on your head. The worst it can do to you is give you a migraine."
He cocked an eyebrow. She cocked one back.
"Come on. Put it on."
They stared down for a few more seconds before he sighed in resignation and retracted his blades. He then took the circlet from her hands – making her blush lightly at the purposeful contact between their fingers – and fit it on the crown of his head.
"Happy?" he grunted, obviously disgruntled.
She noted that the silver of the device complemented his signature green very well, giving his countenance a subtle yet deadlier edge, like a concealed blade waiting to strike straight and true. But she knew of his unease, of his want to redeem himself and slip back into their lives like the way he used to. She could tell by his mannerisms and through slight cracks on his neutral, cocky façade and she somehow knew that things, especially those between them, wouldn't be the same again.
Should this attempt fail, the man she had fallen for would be truly gone.
She mentally slapped herself. No need for that now.
"Ecstatic," she replied, putting on her best smirk.
"I know another way to make you ecstatic, Doc."
She shoved him away. The blatant flirting she could definitely do without. She didn't catch the slight frown that overtook his features for half a second.
"Are you ready, Agent Six?" Caesar called.
The man in question just nodded, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the metal table. Nerves thrumming with the excitement brought about by this scientific endeavor, Rebecca moved to Caesar's side. Her jade green eyes locked with Six's shielded gaze out of pure chance as the Hispanic scientist brought his finger down on the remote control's only red button.
Then three things happened, one after the other so fast, it could have all been simultaneous.
First, the circlet came to life, its inlaid LEDs glowing light yellow. Unlike its larger and faultier predecessor, it seemed to cause no pain on its wearer, Six still casually leaning against the table.
Second, the door slid open and in rushed Rex uninvited. He looked over his shoulder and blew a raspberry at Bobo Haha who was chasing him. The two intruders were too preoccupied with their chase to take note of the situation in the lab.
"Ha! Can't catch me!"
"Oh, I will! And when I do, you'll be in a world of pain, kid!"
"As if! I'd like to see you – "
And third, Rex crashed straight into Six.
Handler and charge grunted as the younger's speed sent them both propelling over the table and to the other side, the two of them shrouded in a flash of bright yellow that had the others within the vicinity covering their eyes. The mini shockwave that followed sent them sprawling on their behinds.
Her lab equipment jangled at the disturbance and she was sure the few glass beakers and vials Caesar brought with him were pretty much shards now. Making a mental note to have someone clean up any likely chemical spill ASAP, she carefully stood back up. The lab was in not much of a mess and she was thankful for that.
"Ugh, what the hell was that about?" came Bobo's groaning question, the simian getting up from his sprawl on the floor.
"Some sort of flux?" she wondered aloud, helping her fellow scientist on his own feet. "Is the machine capable of such, Caesar?"
"Sorry, señorita, but I have no idea," he replied then winced at the metallic crunch beneath his boot, "and with the remote totaled, we might not truly know until I fix it."
A heavy groan echoed from beyond the examination table and they were suddenly reminded of their reason for being in the lab. Rebecca proceeded to approach the source of the groan with caution.
"Six? Rex? Are you two okay?"
A figure rose from the floor, a gloved hand on the surface of the table to push himself up. At first, she thought it was Rex with his slicked back dark hair, the tumble somehow ending him up with Six's suit jacket on instead of his own.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little – whoa."
He stood up fully and she saw that he wasn't Rex, he wasn't Six, but – oh.
"Rex? Mijo?" Caesar called as he came in for a closer look.
The voice that answered had Six's velvety depth coupled with Rex's boyish tone.
"I ain't Rex and I ain't Six either. I'm…I'm awesome."
They stared at him in shock right until a certain simian threw in his two cents.
"Well, this is certainly a way to turn the day on its head."
~(6 + X)~
It's…weird.
He held his sunglasses in his hands, but…could he call them sunglasses? The single huge lens with its near semi-circular curve, black sheen and orange highlights made them look more like Rex's protective goggles than Six's sleek shades, more like…a visor! He could deffo call it that. Ha. Weird no longer.
He put on the visor. It fit him perfectly, shielding his eyes and sitting snug atop his defined cheekbones. The world took on a darker hue tinted with a little orange and he wondered if this was how Six saw everything. That guy must've had some kind of hypersensitivity to light if he could see so well with the dark eyewear on.
Pushing his visor up into his hair, he looked down at himself. Those were Rex's sneakers and riding pants, the latter a dark green near black, he noted with a cocked eyebrow. Six's dress shirt was worn half untucked and with the top three buttons undone, that boring necktie nowhere in sight. On top of all that was a jacket very much like Rex's, complete with the orange bands on the sleeves and the border on the lower half. But its main color was Six's brand of green and wait. Are those…?
He abruptly stretched out his right arm and out sprang from the sleeve one of Agent Six's famed magna blades. He couldn't believe they survived the fusion! Except…this one was red…
Huh. The red from the jacket must've gone somewhere so…
He glanced at the reflection on its polished surface. Eyes as dark a brown as pine bark stared right back at him, their unnatural depth highlighted with the promise of mischief. He examined his features more, seeing Six's sharp jawline, nose and sideburns partnered with Rex's complexion, hairstyle and slight pudge. All in all, he looked like the lovechild between the former mercenary and the teen EVO.
Except he wasn't a lovechild. Oh, he was more than that. He was –
"How can a memory-retrieving machine cause this?!"
The shriek had him turning to the two scientists and the simian with him. Doctor Holiday (mom-figure, love interest, hottie) looked frustrated, waving around that metal headband thingy that he had been wearing when he first woke up. It was taken by Caesar (brother, asset, questionable) who placed it on the scanner hooked to his laptop.
"It must've reacted with Rex's nanites. How fascinating," the Latino breathed and he didn't like the look he had flashed at him, like he was some kind of lab rat or guinea pig. "I think I need to do more examinations. Both on the machine and on him."
"Can you hurry it up, pal?" Bobo (cohort, nuisance, monkey) questioned with a huff. "I owe Rex a couple of roaches in his mashed potatoes. But if that guy's also the Green Bean, I got nothing else to do."
"That guy is right here," he said, annoyed as he stood up from his seat on the examination table, "and I'm telling you. I'm not Rex, I'm not Six, I'm – "
"Awesome. Yeah, we got ya the first time."
He sent a glare at Bobo. It must've been deadly enough to have the little punk take a step back and raise his hairy arms in the universal sign for surrender.
"And I mean it," he continued, flicking out the other magna blade and slicing the air effortlessly with the weapons. "See? I've got Six's aggro ninja awesomeness and Rex's charming secret weapon awesomeness and – hang on."
"What? Is something wrong?" Holiday asked, strangely enthusiastic for someone in her predicament. "Are you feeling any side effects?"
He raised the left sword to his face, deciphering the notches scratched lightly into its flat.
"No. It's just that…I am half-Six. I can read the little reminder he left here."
"…what does it say?"
"It goes…'Consequence…a mess up of any kind. Target…Caesar Salazar. Method…"
He leveled a flat stare at the nervous-looking scientist.
"…hanging by the neck with his guts as the rope and shoving this sword down his throat and the other up his ass.'"
The graphic description of such mutilation rendered the room mute. Holiday and Bobo turned to Caesar who looked about ready to faint and bolt straight out the door at the same time. It took a few more seconds of silence before he broke the tension in the air and his flat stare with a grin and a laugh.
"Naaah. I'm in too good of a mood to ruthlessly kill anyone right now. Consider yourself saved, Salazar!"
The Latino visibly sagged in his seat, his head falling on the keyboard of his laptop as he muttered some Spanish prayers. Seeing his relief, Holiday turned back to the subject of the original topic.
"I should talk to Six about that – "
"Noted."
" – …okay. How are you really feeling?"
"A little tingly. But honestly, I'm as fine as I'll ever be!"
He then toned his grin down into a smirk. Retracting the – his weapons, he approached the good doctor and came down on one knee in front of her.
"Especially when you're here. Whenever I see you, I feel like I can take on the world," he added, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of her palm. "And I'll do it should you ask me to, Oujosama."
It was satisfying to see her blush so fiercely, even more so when he received no slap to the face for what he had done. He straightened back up as she pulled away from him, holding the hand he had kissed in the other.
"W-Was that really necessary?"
His smirk fell into an easy smile.
"For you, Oujosama? Always."
She was still blushing and a part of him (ahem, Six, ahem) found it adorable.
"What a-are you calling me? Stop calling me that!"
"I can't help it if my designation for you fits you perfectly. Ah!"
"…what is it?"
His grin made a comeback as he clapped his hands together in excitement.
"My designation! I'll need my own name if we're going to work together – "
"Now wait a minute. What makes you say that? For all we know, Caesar can probably fix the machine in a few hours and you'll be unfused by then – "
"Actually," aforementioned scientist butted in, his head still down, "it'll most likely take me a few days instead of hours. I still have yet to understand how this all exactly happened. Plus, the concept of fusion via nanites is highly intriguing. I wish to study it a little longer."
"What?!" it was Bobo who exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "You're tellin' me that I'll be sharin' the same room with this…abomination of science?"
He couldn't bring himself to listen to their pointless chatter. Stroking his clean-shaven chin in thought, he murmured suggestions for names to himself.
"'Rix'? No, sounds like someone misspelled Rex. Not even gonna think about 'Sex'. 'X-Squared'? Nope. 'EVOnin'? Whateven. I mean, come on. Six isn't even his real name – "
His pine brown eyes lit up when the right one came into mind. His short yet triumphant laugh alerted the other three of this.
"What the hell is it this time, Carrot?" the simian among them questioned exasperatedly.
"'Carrot'? Why did you call me – oh, color scheme," he quickly amended with a slight frown and shook his head. "Anyway, I now know what my name will be from now on. Not Six, not Rex."
"Well, let it rip."
"My name is – "
"Doctor Holiday! Doctor Salazar!"
A screen descended from the ceiling, attached to a mechanical arm. It flickered into life before them, revealing none other than –
"White, ol' bossman, ol' pal!" he greeted, grinning again. "How's it hanging?"
On the screen, White Knight (stuck-up boss, old friend and partner, unexplained distance) looked him up and down before turning to Caesar.
"Another relative of yours, Doctor Salazar?"
"You…could say that," the Hispanic replied, scratching the back of his head.
"I want him out of here later. On the other hand, I've been paging you and Doctor Holiday for the past hour about the slight disturbance in your area. Any explanations?"
"How incredible! That tiny shockwave from earlier must have been some kind of localized EMP that took out the communicators – "
"EMP What EMP? What the hell have you two been doing in here – "
"Oi, oi, oi! Yamete, minna! Don't get your panties in a twist," he cut in, raising his hands to placate them. "You really gotta loosen up, Shiro-san, get that meterstick out of your ass – "
"Just who the hell do you think you are? Trespassing into the headquarters of a renowned agency and insulting its head? You have ten seconds to get the fuck out of here before I have my men throw you over the canyon!"
"You can't do that!" came Holiday's retort and he was honestly touched by her concern. "You can't throw him out just like that!"
"And why not, Doctor?"
"Because he's…he's…"
Alright, he's had enough of this. He armed himself with his weapons as he stepped closer to the screen. He made sure to put on his cockiest smirk as made himself heard.
"Because isn't he pretty obvious?"
In one fluid motion, he sliced at the screen's mechanical arm, making it fall to the floor and crack. He then stomped on the glass, shutting it down for good. He raised a red blade at the lab's main screen as the Providence head appeared on it.
"You akin' me who I am, ne? Well, I've got news for you, bossman. I'm your secret weapon and your best agent put together. Hell, I'm the ultimate weapon. And if you're done spazzing at my face, I'm outta here!"
He walked to the door, sheathing his blades along the way. He stopped in the doorway to turn back to the people in the room and pop his dress shirt's collar up.
"And the name's Shrix, ladies," he smugly stated, winking at them before bringing his visor down and over his eyes. "Don't wear it out. Laterz!"
And with that, he left the lab. He still caught White Knight's statement though.
"…unless Agents Six and Rex are both somehow involved in unorthodox genetic experiments, you two better explain. Now."
~(6 + X)~
Honestly? His day started out well.
He woke up from a good night's sleep without that annoying twinge in his lower back, welcoming the new day of his own accord and without the blaring of klaxons. There was no paperwork (he had finished this week's load just the other day), no newbies to debrief and tour around HQ, no EVO alarms so far. Rex and his shenanigans were absent, though he had heard the screech from the kid's chimp friend earlier in the cafeteria.
He thought it was going to be one of those rare lazy days at Providence.
He thought wrong.
That roundhouse kick came out of nowhere.
He had just exited the break room, right after a few good rounds of Texas Hold 'Em, when he was struck in the chest with enough force to snap his sternum in half. Good thing he wore Providence-issued body armor almost all the time. He was still sent sprawling on his backside though.
"You're getting slow, Cali-taichou!"
Massaging the already bruising area, Calan looked up at his attacker. He looked young in his green, orange-banded jacket, half-untucked dress shirt and black-green riding pants. A black visor that shone orange in the light covered his eyes but his voice alone conveyed his smug amusement. With his dark hair and skin tone, he looked like one of the Salazar brothers.
Huh. He must've missed the memo.
There was a flash of red and he barely missed blocking the blade slicing towards his face. His attacker grinned menacingly at him.
"Better, but still too slow for me."
He pressed the button on his weapon, his shock baton extending further and into its full length. Utilizing most of his upper body strength, he pushed the young man out of his personal space. He took a step back to catch his breath. Underneath that jacket and dress shirt must be pure muscle.
"What in the blue blazes do you want with me?" he finally questioned, steadying his stance.
"Eh? Ore?" the stranger queried back, cocking his head to the side a little. "It was getting pretty boring fast with Doc Beautiful, El Loco Scientist and Banana Breath so I decided to go and search for something fun to do."
"And your idea of fun is suddenly attacking people for no goddamn reason?!"
"You're making it sound like it's a bad thing!"
They locked weapons again. This time, his attacker's grin held a sharper edge and his visor seemed to glint predatorily. His deep voice sent an involuntary shiver down Calan's spine.
"I was just looking for some action, is all."
There was another red flash and he narrowly avoided the other sword, sidestepping out of its deadly arc with milliseconds to spare. Already, a crowd had gathered to watch the impromptu sparring session and he knew bets were being made and counted.
But for his attacker, it seemed like just a game. The young man just kept sending slashes his way, a spring in his step as he did so. Calan was forced into defense most of the time, but when it was his turn to strike, the bastard just danced out of range with a mocking laugh. The captain even used his gun to cover the distance, but he didn't just dodge. He actually deflected each and every shot with his swords, a condescending smirk on his damn mug.
He couldn't help but be reminded of his first time in Providence, back when he was relatively new and had been taught a few more moves by the then cocky –
Wait. No.
But the reflexes, the fluid movement, those red toothpicks that suspiciously looked like the infamous magna blades…'Doc Beautiful'? 'El Loco Scientist'? 'Banana Breath'?
That's just fucking impossible.
And yet as said in that detective series he had been leafing through earlier this week, "Once the fallacies have been eliminated, the one left – no matter how impossible – is the truth."
"…Six?" he tentatively tested out as he blocked yet another attempt on his head. "…and Rex?"
"You are both correct and incorrect, Cali-taichou! But I go by 'Shrix' these days."
The next attack happened all too fast. One second he was dodging shuriken thrown straight at his face. In the next, he was knocked right on his back and kept down by a blade to his throat.
"And that, honeybunch," Shrix, as he called himself (themselves?), said with a dark chuckle, "is the 59th time you've died."
As if on cue, the klaxons blared into life, alerting everyone in HQ of an EVO sighting. He breathed easy again when the blade on his throat was retracted.
"Eeey, looks like there's trouble. And when there's trouble, there's more action. Be it's a job for the Ultimate Weapon."
He coughed as he sat up, watching the…teen-EVO-ninja-merc mashup (?) walk away.
"Oh, and thanks for your time, Cali-taichou," he called over his shoulder, smirking yet again, "but it seems that someone else needs my attention for now. Toodles!"
Then Shrix was off, his walk speeding up into a run. The captain was left still on the floor, the crowd around him dispersing rapidly to take to their stations. Holding his head in his hand, he huffed in exasperation.
"Like I had a choice. Some day this turned out to be."
"Captain Calan!"
He winced as he reached for his communicator in his ear. Lowering the volume, he addressed his commanding officer.
"Yes, Sir?"
"I would like to inform you that we have as an intruder in the base, armed with red swords – "
"You're talking about that Six-Rex guy, right? Shrix?"
"…so, you've met."
"Yes Sir. It…wasn't that pretty."
"I see. I have a job for you, Captain. Make sure that abomination stays in Headquarters. We have no idea what he's fully capable of. If he even bats and eye towards the EVO sighting, contain him."
This…this was not good."
"…yes, Sir."
"Good. White Knight, out."
He was on his feet and running down the halls in seconds. He had an idea where Shrix would be, but with that head start, he might as well be on his way to the EVO.
This day sure took a nosedive.
He reached the hangar bay slightly out of breath. A few jump jets and a carrier were already being deployed into battle. The EVO must be at least bigger than an eighteen-wheeler then.
And there, in one jump jet, was his target.
The craft he was on was already off the ground, but Calan took to it anyway. His hazel eyes met dark brown ones and he realized then that the fusion had his visor in his hair instead of over his eyes. With that obstruction out of the way, the captain could see how much he resembled the two men who make him up. He really looked like what would happen should the ex-merc and the teen have a biological child together.
He shuddered at the thought. He already had an OTP in mind, thank you very much.
Seeing him running in vain, Shrix sent him a grin and a two-fingered salute. Then the hatch closed and the jump jet zoomed off. Stopping to grip his knees and catch his breath, he traced the retreating craft in despair.
He should have known something overly outrageous would ruin his day, kick his ass and possibly wreak havoc on that poor EVO.
Anything could happen when one works for Providence.
"White Knight to Captain Calan. Have you secured Shrix?"
Ah, shit.
A/N
Hello there! If you've managed to get this far then I sincerely thank you for taking the time to read my humble fic.
I'm not new to writing fanfiction, but I can tell you that it certainly is a passion of mine. This fic is a supposed AU of what happens after "Six Minus Six". Knowing the people of Providence, they'd prolly give two or three more attempts at reclaiming Six's memory before they call it quits. I got the idea of a fusion between two canon characters from a Gravity Falls fanfic I had reread on AO3 and surprisingly not from Steven Universe. I love both series mentioned above, but I'm currently hyped on GenRex.
While I am very much aware that this fandom is almost inactive, I posted this fic just because I want to. I really wanted this off my chest and out of my head but share it with those who'd take the time to read it.
So again, thanks for reading my fanfic! And yes, I do agree that they could've at least given GenRex a better ending and wrap up all those loose ends.
- venting
Disclaimer: I do not own Generator Rex. I might own Shrix, but I'm not really sure.