Rex and Optimus look at the stars and talk about things~ That's it. That's the chapter.
Prime finds him, because of course he does.
Rex didn't take off his comm unit. There's probably a tracking chip buried in the circuitry, reporting the coordinates of everyone on their team. He should probably take it apart and address that.
He will, when he feels like it. Just not now.
"Shit," Rex says, grimacing as the cigarette smoke blows in Prime's face. "I didn't know you were gonna be here, or I would've smoked in the armory."
Prime just stands there for a second, head tipped, and stares at Rex.
"It is always the most obvious place to look for you," he says.
Matter-of-fact, as if he expected Rex to be up here cradling his sniper rifle, waiting for Galloway to step outside.
"Huh," Rex says, and exhales another plume of smoke. "It's almost like I wanted to be alone."
He glances down, wonders if he jumped off the roof, he could get away, but from this height anyone who jumps is going to get two broken legs at best.
Prime looks like he's read Rex's thoughts and is disturbed to find Rex actually considering it; the look in his eyes is about as subtle as a pistol to the head.
Rex feels something stupid stirring in his chest, something that wants to laugh, wants to bait Prime into a fight for the chance to get all the tension out into the open, work the rage he feels about everything into someone else's body.
"How long have you been up here?" Prime says, when his eyes finally settle back on him.
Rex doesn't know what to do with all of this, so he stretches out across the roof, feet dangling, and tries to appear tired. It's not hard; it's been a long damn day, and he shoves the heels of his palms into his eyes. They're dry and scratchy, probably bloodshot. Every bone and joint and muscle in his body aches.
"Not long enough," he says, without once glancing Prime's way. His shoulders pull tight.
"Got a problem with it?" he asks, but he takes one look at Prime's face, which only sours further when he notices the four cigarettes Rex already had before he round him.
"Jesus, Prime, were you actually coming up here to check up on me? My hero."
Prime narrows his eyes and actually reaches out a hand, like he expects Rex to just give it to him.
"I don't need you babysitting me the whole time, you know," he says, holding out his cigarette, because his other option involves a visit to Ratchet and getting grounded from missions in the foreseeable future.
"Mm," Prime says, falling back into his obnoxiously calm mannerisms, "You haven't given me or anyone else any indication that you have any intention to start taking care of yourself. Quite the opposite."
Rex laughs, he can't help it.
"You're going to keep hovering over me like that or are you going to sit down?" he asks, ignoring the weird twist in his stomach. "Why are you following me?"
Prime pauses. When he sits down next to Rex, the look on his face is weirdly reminiscent of the times at the end of one of their missions, but seeing that expression on Prime's face here leaves him with the uncomfortable notion that maybe that protectiveness predates back a lot longer than he thought.
"I want to ask you if there is anything I can do to help," Prime says, like it's easy.
Like it's his job. Which really only nurtures the idea that he's trying to take care of Rex.
It's one of his most troubling virtues, in Rex's opinion, the way he constantly makes sure everyone on his team is looked after. He's kind of like Will in that way, the way he used to get back when Rex would catch colds on long flights.
It'd be endearing, except Rex is pretty sure that the motivating factor is that Prime still thinks they have to earn their keep. Like the bar of trust is always rising, and he has to rise with it or be thrown out.
He kicks Galloways words around in his head. Will you leave peacefully ?
Rex feels something like panic, a noose tightening around his throat. He doesn't know what he'll do, if he gets pulled away from his team, or if his team gets pulled away from him.
He turns to face Prime. It's hard to be sincere. Every instinct in him tells him to flinch away from vulnerability.
"I need a round of tequila shots and a quiet night on the beach. I want that one Tech guy to stop looking at me like I murdered a puppy. And, since you asked, I do kinda need a full night's sleep, but I think you should schedule that for a time when we don't have to save the whole fucking world," he says, when it feels like he can force the words out without his voice cracking.
But it looks like Prime hears it anyway.
"There is only one I can help you with," Prime says, and Rex snorts.
Prime's eyes, when he looks down at him, are a jarring shade of blue, but the calm behind them feels almost steadying.
Rex doesn't know what to do with it.
"Your file is incomplete," Prime says, eventually.
Understatement of the fucking year, he thinks.
Of course the files NEST gave the Autobots are incomplete. There are plenty of secrets they keep from them, and Rex knew from the beginning that they weren't just going to hand all of their secrets to newcomers.
He is willing to bet his file had been particularly detailed in some parts, and particularly light in others. Which is fine, really, because he usually doesn't care if what people know about him is that he is the one on his team with ruthless application of skill and almost no other redeeming qualities. A blunt instrument. A live grenade and a sledgehammer. Functional for the most part, until it's time for delicate work; because there wouldn't be enough room in his file for all his other problems.
Prime looks like he's still not sure what the problem even is, or how bad the problem is, but he knows there's some kind of issue.
So Will hasn't told him about that yet.
It's stupid. Rex knows it is. But he doesn't want Prime to know about any of his flaws. He knows Prime would still take him, even with his problem and his lack of endearing personality traits. Hell, he took Declan on his team, and Declan hadn't bothered to hide a single one of his flaws.
"Are you accusing NEST of keeping secrets?" he asks, grinning.
Prime frowns. "I think the file is incomplete," he says, after a moment.
Rex tries not to look like he's holding his breath.
"You graduated from school, and there is nothing in your file that indicates a disability, but you will not seek medical aid when it requires papers, and Ratchet informed me that you have had trouble finding your way around base."
Rex blinks. This, he thinks, is the problem with outsiders. Sometimes they tend to notice things that everyone else has the good grace to ignore.
"I can read. And write," Rex spits out, because he hates the idea that Prime thinks he's stupid, and because he's unprepared, fundamentally, to have Prime look at him the way everyone does.
Everyone who knows about it.
Which is why he's never told anyone. No one except Will.
"What? You want me to write my own name and prove it to you?"
Prime stares at him for a long moment.
If he asks me, I'll do it, he thinks. I'll do whatever it is, whatever he asks. Just write your name. R-E-X. It's not hard.
He likes his own name. It's simple, and it sounds like it's spelled. He can even write it without double checking.
Alexander - now that's a fucking nightmare. He hates it, doesn't think he could write it even if he had a gun to his head.
"What does it matter anyway?" he says. He smiles, sharp and a little brittle. "The Decepticons are out there, and you want to talk about paperwork?"
Prime considers him. Rex wonders what he's thinking. If Rex's file was just blacked-out history, redacted school records, and omitted testing for oddities, then all Prime knows is that he is a walking headache people are happy to put up with as long as he does as he's told.
"Let me save you some time, Prime," he snaps with the same anger from earlier. "I'm fucked up in a way that's got nothing to do with the things in my file. I'm still the best shot on the team. I have a learning disability. I'm not stupid."
Prime stares at him for a moment, eyes roaming over Rex's face with a focus that makes Rex wish he could take that flying leap of the roof, consequences be damned.
"This is not something I've encountered before. I was confused about the basic premise of the conversation earlier. I thought it was a cruel figure of speech. I did not realize there was an actual condition until Will said it was not something that had been disclosed to anyone other than him and few others," Prime explains.
Rex looks away from him, watching the sky instead; trying to look anywhere but at the almost imploring look on Prime's face.
Of course Prime didn't know. How could he have known? He didn't fall out of the sky with that knowledge, or would even have the time to learn about it, and even if he did, dyslexia probably didn't make it into the welcome to earth crash course material. He didn't have any way of knowing…
"Alexander."
Rex closes his eyes and quietly hates himself.
"None of it changes who you are."
He's reminded of Will saying something similar, this is only going to stop you if you let it .
"Okay," Rex says, after a minute.
When he opens his eyes, Prime isn't looking at him (thank god). He is silent as he looks up at the sky, frowning grimly at the millions and millions of stars that wink back at them. There's a faraway look in his eyes as he stares up at the stars, a kind of regret that seems to weigh heavy.
Beside him, Rex wonders what he missed in the time he closed his eyes and opened them again.
He breathes out, and he wishes he'd had the foresight to put on warmer clothes.
"What are you looking at?" he asks, more intrigued than anything else.
Prime hesitates.
"Home."
"You can see it from here?" he asks.
Prime doesn't answer. He turns to face him and reaches out, his hand warm around Rex's own, holding on.
Rex watches him hesitate, hand curled around Rex's own, and then he raises it and steadies it when Rex's fingers are bracketing what must be his home planet.
"Here, the star closest to your index, that is Cybertron."
He doesn't pull away, and Prime's hand tightens, holding him in place like he's afraid Rex might still jump off the roof after all.
But when Rex squeezes back, light and exploratory, Prime's breath catches. It's a quiet thing, wouldn't be noticeable if he didn't already have Rex's full attention. Not a rasp or a sigh. His breathing just stops, for a moment.
It's so human, he thinks. Maybe the most human thing. Machines don't flinch. It takes human will to keep the body still, to stop breathing, and Rex thinks it's testimony more than anything else that they are not just machines.
That Galloway couldn't see that shows exactly what the rest of the world would think of them.
"Do you miss it?" he asks.
When Prime's thumb presses down on the pulse point in his wrist, it makes his body tense and boneless all at once.
"Yes." His thumb brushes over it, this time, and Rex swallows, jaw tight, eyes flicking away. "I have to search for it, sometimes, to remind myself that it is still there."
There's another flash of that sad, hollowed look, but it disintegrates under the nostalgia that follows. Prime's hand is still curled around Rex's own, resting in the space between them now.
His hand is not much bigger than Rex's, not really. He's bulkier than Rex everywhere but in the waist, a nice buffer against the wind, and sitting next to him doesn't make Rex feel smaller exactly. It makes him, for the first time, feel protective of Optimus Prime.
"Hm," Rex says, because it's the only thing he can manage at the moment.
"They said we won," Prime says, eyes shuttered, tone soft like he's remembering something. "It took us a long time to find out what we lost."
There's a moment where neither of them says anything, and then Prime shakes his head, moves his hand. He gives Rex a brief look; Rex is prepared for rejection, but the intensity on Prime's face catches him off-guard.
"Perhaps this isn't our world, but it's the world we have, and we are going to protect it."
"I know," Rex says, voice quieter but no less matter-of-fact. "We are. Our team."
Prime's gaze is like cold water on a burn; his eyes have a machine's focus, but he's human right now. This, right here, is Prime as a human. Rex doesn't know if Prime would bleed like this, but right now, it only means he would likely feel warm if Rex reached out and touched him.
It helps him narrow down the why of what he knows he wants to do.
He shifts his weight onto the heels of his palms, a strange, half-hearted gesture, like he's trying to build up the momentum to leave.
"There is something I need to ask you," Prime says, after a moment.
Rex huffs. "The answer is yes."
Prime studies him for a long moment. "I haven't asked, and yet you are agreeing to it."
Rex feels his mouth curl up into a smile. "Will loves when I do that."
"I want you to come with me when I talk with Sam."
"You want an escort?" Rex says, full-on grinning at him (Prime probably doesn't get the double-meaning).
He shakes his head. "Why me?"
Prime makes a soft, approving hum in the back of his throat. "You have family where we are going. I thought you would want to see them."
Rex thinks it over for a minute. Nearly three years of army, and the number of times he'd been home in that time is in the single digits. Usually, there's some kind of emergency. As for the other times, he mostly does his best not to think about them.
"Sure." He cranes his head to look back at the sky, and says, "I'll go wherever you go."
Ah yes, the obligatory stargazing chapter... it's not very long, but I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway.