Hey everyone!

Guess who's uploading instead of re-writing the five page paper due in two hours? (it's me)

We're back with Rex for this round, and we're going to be with him for a while yet. We're going into to some maybe not great for everyone content.

So, TW: non-graphic surgery, bad reaction to drugs, mentions and discussion of depression and some suicidal leaning thoughts.

Mando'a Translations at the end!

Rex pressed against the cool white floor, forcing his body up for another pushup. His arms trembled with the effort, but he stayed upright. His splayed hands felt less sturdy due to his missing fingers and they ached with the effort, but he managed.

"What the kriff are you doing?"

Hackjob's voice startled Rex and his arms gave out from under him. He managed to catch himself before his chin crashed into the floor. Hackjob hurried into the room with Neya Ha trailing behind.

"I'm finishing my set." Rex said as he sat up.

"Like hell you are!" Hackjob said. "I told you to finish the set you were on fifteen minutes ago!"

"Perhaps he is only now finishing that set." Neya Ha said in his mild tone.

"Oh yeah, it took him fifteen minutes to do three push-ups." Hackjob said.

"Perhaps." Neya Ha repeated. "But unlikely. He has less weight to push upwards than before."

Rex blinked at Neya Ha. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that was a joke. Rex would add it to the list of Neya Ha's oddities.

"How many more did you do?" Hackjob demanded.

Rex was silent for a moment as Hackjob glared at him.

"I will look at the security tapes." Hackjob said.

"I was finishing the eighth set when you came back." Rex said.

"Eight?" Hackjob asked. "How many times do I need to tell you that overworking yourself is just as bad as not working at all?"

Rex shrugged and Hackjob dragged his hand down his face.

"I wanted to have you do a light workout today, but that's gone out the window." Hackjob muttered. "Have fun recovering with sore everything instead of just a sore stump."

Rex nodded, a prick of trepidation needling his stomach. He would be glad to have a functional leg back, but the next day's surgery loomed over him.

"You'll be okay, Rex." Hackjob said in a drastically different tone.

"I know." Rex replied.

He reached out for his crutches and struggled to his feet. No matter what Hackjob said, Rex was proud of the amount of work he was able to do today. He was getting back to where he was before, at least in terms of upper body workouts.

"What's next?" He asked.

"Didn't you hear me?" Hackjob said. "Easy day today."

"But you said-"

"You're done for the day, Rex." Hackjob said. "And don't forget- no eating or drinking tonight."

"Fine." Rex said.

"You will have time to respond to your messages." Neya Ha said. "You have three, currently."

Rex grimaced. Neya Ha, as part of monitoring his mental state, had access to all of the messages Rex sent or received. As far as he could tell, the doctor wasn't blocking anything, but Rex couldn't help but worry.

Neya Ha seemed to be waiting for a response. He was continuing to prove to be the oddest Kaminoan Rex had ever met. He continued to call Rex and Hackjob by their names, continued to accommodate Rex, and continued to insist on being involved with most of Rex's treatment. It made Rex feel uncomfortable, but not necessarily repulsed by the Kaminoan. He hadn't attempted any physical help since the first day, but he was there for almost everything Rex and Hackjob did.

"Right." Rex finally said. "Thanks."

"We've gotta prep for tomorrow, so I'll be late tonight." Hackjob said. "Enjoy the respite."

Rex managed a crooked smile.

"I will." He said.

Rex crutched out of the room. Only now was he getting good at the things, right before he wouldn't need them anymore. It had helped when Hackjob had brutalized a set of blacks to make better cushioning.

Rex made it to his and Hackjob's quarters and sank onto his bunk. He grabbed his datapad. Neya Ha had been wrong. He had four messages now.

The first was just the casualty list he received every week. It was always a jolt to look at, even when the list was relatively short like it was this time. He closed his eyes and murmured remembrance for them. He copied each dead trooper's name and number to his personal file. He'd have to take the time soon to say remembrance for the whole list.

The next message was from Jesse. Like normal, it was filled with questions Rex knew Jesse was capable of answering. Jesse felt unworthy of the title of Captain and it showed. Rex wished his reputation didn't loom quite so badly over his younger brother. Jesse was doing very well as acting Captain. Rex wouldn't be surprised if he was permanently promoted after Rex returned.

The third letter was from Fives. Fives had taken it upon himself to keep Rex updated on the more personal side of the 501st. Deck, Shiv, and Aran were settling in well. Tup was thriving in ARC trooper training. The new batch of shinies had all fallen hopelessly in love with Commander Tano. Rex snorted. That was happening more and more frequently as Ahsoka got older. Fives ended with a request that Rex return to them soon, as Jesse wasn't letting him do half the stuff Rex let him get away with.

The final message was from General Skywalker. It started with a subtle complaint about how Rex wasn't around to cover for him. He had a few questions and adjustments for the battle strategies Rex had sent him. Rex studied the plans and wrote out a response. Then he studied the figures that General Skywalker had sent him. Something nagged at Rex as he studied the schematics of the battles. Some of these losses were from some of the best plans he had, ones he'd drawn up with Echo. His heart clenched as he thought of his fallen ARC trooper.

He shook himself and attached another set of battle plans. He was glad he was able to help the 501st in some way, even if the General changed half of the plans to be strill-osik crazy.

He sent the message and settled himself into the position he'd seen Ahsoka take many times. He took a deep breath and concentrated.

Ahsoka hadn't sent him a message.

He didn't need one.

Hello, Rex.

Rex smiled despite himself.

Hello, Ahsoka.

Her presence flooded him. Part of him believed that if he stretched out his hand, she would be there right beside him.

She didn't say anything right away, but she was with him. It was like sitting next to each other in a comfortable silence. He remembered in her first days as a Commander she hadn't understood the value of just sitting quietly together. She'd chatter to him constantly. But she learned, and she learned it well.

How much she'd grown. Even in the two months they'd been separated, she had matured beyond anything he'd imagined when he had first met her. If someone had told him the annoying slip of a girl that had come strutting out of that ship would become one of two people he could completely confide in, he would have assumed they'd been in their pod too long.

Annoying slip of a girl? Strutting? Ahsoka asked in amusement.

Rex flushed. It was hard to tell what was out in the open when they were like this.

Ahsoka, one of the first things you said to me was that you outranked me. It wasn't a good first impression.

Well, my first impression of you was that you had a stick up your shebs. So we were both wrong. Ahsoka sent.

No, we were right. You learned and I had the stick removed.

His mind was awash with her laughter and he chuckled along.

As much as Rex enjoyed just sitting with her, each moment had a toll for Ahsoka, so it was good that the silence was broken.

How are things? He asked.

Just finished on Garm. We're on our way to do a supply run to Ryloth.

If you see Cody, tell him to send me a message, yeah? I've gotten one from him.

I'll see what I can do. According to Master Obi Wan, he's still in a little bit of shock about the whole thing. Ahsoka replied.

Rex sighed. It was a difficult situation. Cody probably still expected Rex to be decommissioned.

The men holding up well? He asked.

Yep. They miss you though. Not a day goes by that I don't get some trooper demanding to know when you're coming home.

Rex missed them too. Hackjob was a good companion, but there was nothing compared to being surrounded by brothers you had fought alongside.

Speaking of which, Ahsoka said. How are things?

My surgery's tomorrow. Rex replied, trying to keep his anxiety away from her.

You'll be okay. If I can relearn to use the Force, then you can relearn to walk.

You're doing well with your Force control, then. Rex said, changing the subject.

Better, not well. I still can't use it effectively in battle, but stuff like this is better. Well, if you were closer.

How much time do we have left?

A few minutes.

Rex forwent the words for the sake of time and just showed her a bit more of his daily life. How weird Neya Ha was and how Hackjob both infuriated and comforted Rex, though he hid how nervous he was for the surgery. They both preferred speaking to one another, but part of the purpose of this was to make sure the other was doing well. Ahsoka in turn gave him a glimpse of the war, the efforts she went to to keep the men safe, her grief at their losses and the joy she felt with the men.

I have to go or Kix will have my head. She said. Take care of yourself.

He felt a pressure on his shoulder, as if she had placed a hand there. Show off. The best he could do in the moment was send a pulse of affection and encouragement.

Be careful out there. The men would never forgive themselves if you died doing something reckless for them.

He got a mental eyeroll in return.

Urcye mhi. He said. We'll meet again. No doubts about it. She preferred it to traditional Mandalorian goodbye. She said there was no maybe about them meeting again. She knew it.

Urcye mhi. She replied and he once again caught sight of the deep feelings she had for him. It was good to have someone care for him as much as she did and be able to feel it.

The bond shrank to a mere sliver and he opened his eyes. Hackjob was sitting on the opposite bunk. Rex hadn't noticed him come in, but that was to be expected.

"You and your meditating." Hackjob said.

"It helps me relax." Rex said. "You're always complaining that I'm too uptight."

"True enough." Hackjob said. "Any questions for tomorrow?"

Rex shook his head.

"Neya Ha explained it well enough."

Hackjob grimaced.

"A little too well if you ask me."

Rex nodded, remembering Neya Ha's extremely detailed report on what exactly they'd be doing to him.

"You'd probably best get to bed." Hackjob said. "Big day tomorrow."

"Right." Rex said.

He thought he'd kept his voice firm and resolved, but Hackjob gave him a sympathetic look. The medic clapped Rex on the shoulder.

"The procedure has been done thousands of times. You'll be fine." He said.

"Do you trust Neya Ha?" Rex asked.

He needed to know, especially since Rex himself wasn't sure. Hackjob hesitated.

"I think I do." Hackjob said. "I'd never thought I'd be able to trust a brother's life to a longneck, but Neya Ha is the one I could."

"It's strange." Rex said. "But I think you're right."

Somehow, they had gotten stuck with the one Kaminoan who seemed to view them as slightly more than assets.

Against all odds, Rex slept through the night and felt reasonably well rested the next morning. He ached, like Hackjob had warned him, but he felt okay. He hoped he wouldn't feel too bad after the surgery.

"Come on, brother." Hackjob said cheerfully after Rex had showered. "Let's get it done."

He helped Rex into the operating gown. Rex grimaced at the flimsy material.

"Oh stop." Hackjob said. "You won't be awake for most of the time you'll be wearing it."

Rex shrugged and crutched after Hackjob. They ended up in a small operating room, where Neya Ha was waiting.

"Good morning, Rex." Neya Ha said.

Rex hesitated in the doorway when he saw the straps on the operating table.

"Those are for after you're out." Hackjob said. "Don't worry. Just lay down."

Rex still felt a shudder of panic as Hackjob helped him onto the table. He had a hard time staying still as Hackjob inserted the IV and Neya Ha attached the monitors.

Hackjob caught Rex's eye and grinned.

"You'll be awake before you-"

Rex drifted. He couldn't really feel his body, and what he could get a sense of was unbearably heavy. He didn't seem capable of thoughts. The only other thing he was aware of were the voices that flickered on and off.

"Come on, vod."

The voice faded, then-

"You're not going to let a stupid thing like this beat you."

The words fizzed away before Rex could truly comprehend them.

"Gedet'ye, ner vod. Just give us a sign you're in there."

Then, a new voice, less dear to Rex than the first one.

"Hackjob, it has been nearly a rotation. You must rest. He will wake."

"That's what we always tell ourselves. And then they don't."

Rex's body seemed to fade back into existence. He was first aware of being cold. He was wrapped in a blanket, but that seemed to be the source of the chill. His heart pounded rapidly against his chest, seemingly skipping beats every so often. He tried to wriggle against the cold wraps, but his muscles were stiff and painfully rigid. He felt damp. He briefly wondered why Hackjob and Neya Ha had left him in a cold, wet blanket after surgery.

"Rex?"

The voice that Rex now knew belonged to Hackjob sounded tired, but eager. Rex tried to speak, but there was something wrong. Something was jammed in his throat.

Ignoring his muscles' protests, Rex jerked his arms free of the blanket and scrabbled at his face. There was something strapped there, something to do with whatever was in his throat. He needed to get it out.

"Hey!"

Strong hands closed around his wrists and Rex fought against them.

"That's helping you breathe, you di'kut!" Hackjob said. "Udesii! Udesii!"

It took a few moments of Hackjob repeating the word before Rex finally relaxed.

He blinked open his eyes to see a haggard Hackjob leaning over him. The medic had dark shadows under his eyes and on his jaw.

"Are you calm?" Hackjob asked. "Can I let you go?"

Rex managed a nod and Hackjob released him.

"Well," The medic said. "I can tell you the surgery was technically a success. You have the socket for your cybernetic leg."

Rex glared at Hackjob. Clearly that wasn't the whole story.

"Calm your shebs, I'm getting to it." Hackjob said. "Apparently the same mutation that makes you blonde mutated one of your other genes to make you vulnerable to something called malignant hyperthermia."

"The fault is mine." Neya Ha interjected. "It has been documented that clones with mutated hair are susceptible to the hyperthermia. I should have done the proper research."

"Shut up, you saved his life." Hackjob said sharply. "I didn't have a clue what the shab was happening."

Neya Ha shook his head dolefully.

"Still, I wish I had prevented the need for action."

Hackjob rolled his eyes and looked back to Rex.

"You're lucky to be alive, vod." He said. "But you're going to have to stay here for at least one more rotation. We have to make sure everything goes back to normal."

Rex's panic must have shone through his eyes because Hackjob gave him a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry, vod." He said. "But you don't kriff around with this sort of thing."

Rex leaned back and stared at the ceiling. It seemed every day was just a struggle to stay alive.

Rex stared blankly at the pair of gauntlets lying on the bedside table. He knew he should sit up and pull them on. They had come only a few days after his surgery and he needed all the practice he could get.

He couldn't find it in himself to care this morning. Two weeks had passed since his surgery, seven days since he was freed from bedrest, and he had struggled with every day of it. The three days trapped in bed had been three days of constant monitoring, chilled blankets and ice packs, and rigid, unresponsive muscles. In other words, three days of torture.

He thought it would've gotten better once he was free. It hadn't, not really.

Hackjob had told him that postoperative depression was probable. Rex knew that was what was happening to him. It was one thing to know about, but quite another to deal with. It felt like an oppressive mass inside his chest, squelching his motivation and ability to care.

But he knew, he knew, that once he was back on the battlefield, it would be better. He just had to get back to where he needed to be physically, and his mind would follow suit.

He just had to fight his way through it until then.

Hackjob came out of the refresher and frowned at Rex.

"Hey, get your shebs up!" He said. "You said you'd be up when I got out of the shower."

Rex pulled himself into a sitting position. It was easier to do what Hackjob said- most of the time. The medic was more tenacious than Kix in getting Rex to take care of himself.

"Shower." Hackjob ordered.

"I don't need one." Rex automatically replied.

"You don't have to smell yourself." Hackjob said. "In."

His lighthearted tone wasn't fooling Rex. Rex knew that Hackjob wouldn't hesitate to drag Rex into the fresher by his remaining leg and scrub Rex himself.

Rex picked up his leg, which Hackjob had named 'Cettie.' It had taken Rex a week to realize it was short for cetare, the Mando'a word for boot. As ridiculous as Rex thought it was, he found himself calling the thing Cettie in his mind. Even Neya Ha referred to it as such.

Rex attached the leg to his socket and kicked a few times. It was still odd. He had total control over the limb, but he had only a dull, faint feeling in it. Enough to make walking easier, but nothing like the leg it had replaced. It was also odd to walk and not feel the pull of muscles as he moved.

He still felt off balance as he made his way to the fresher. It was only a few steps, but he had to resist the urge to place his hand on the wall for support.

Rex leaned his head against the wall of the sonic once he'd gotten inside.

"I don't hear it going!" Hackjob called.

Rex scowled. Did everything have to happen right away? He reached out and tapped the control panel. The vibrations ran down his spine. It was neither a pleasant nor unpleasant sensation. If Rex had ever found it uncomfortable, he had long since gotten used to it.

His mind wandered to the only time he'd had access to a water shower, a hot water shower at that. It had been on Naboo, after the Blue Shadow Virus incident. They'd all been allowed to stay at a Naboo medical facility for a few days, as a form of quarantine. Those few days had been as close to a real vacation Rex had ever had: hot showers, food that made ration bars seem like mud, and a view that made Rex realize how much of a watery hell-hole Kamino was.

The company had been good, too. A few brothers, Ahsoka, and Senator Amidala had all been in the same ward. Both Ahsoka and the Senator would check frequently on the clones.

Rex stood and dreamed of another situation like that. A few close brothers, Ahsoka, the General and Senator Amidala, maybe even General Kenobi all on Naboo, or any nice planet, really. He'd heard Alderaan was nice. He'd prefer it if they didn't have to catch a plague in order to be there, but Rex would gladly welcome the Blue Shadow Virus again for that chance of rest.

Of course, he had a better chance of regrowing his leg than that ever happening.

Things would be better once he got back with the 501st. If he could just get to the physical level required-

There was a bang at the door, startling Rex out of his thoughts.

"You've been in there fifteen minutes!" Hackjob said.

Rex squeezed his eyes shut. Part of him knew that Hackjob was acting with Rex's best interest at heart. Mostly he resented the medic's constant pushing.

Hackjob stood as a silent sentry over Rex as Rex got his armor on. Rex had briefly considered trying to get around it, but thought better of it. Hackjob was on top of his nagging game today.

Rex pulled on his gauntlets last. They made his hands ache and while the robotic fingers answered to his instructions, the gauntlets still felt clunky and slow to respond.

They walked to the mess together. Rex only stumbled once or twice. He supposed he should have been pleased with the progress he'd made in the last few weeks. He didn't need his crutches anymore, and was getting fairly competent with his leg. As it was, Rex didn't feel anything except annoyance that he wasn't better.

"Get us some seats." Hackjob said. "I'll grab the grub."

Rex strategically chose seats right on the edge of the crowd. Not far enough to be considered odd or rude, but not in the thick of things.

"How's your new leg?" The medic next to him, Fixit, asked.

Immediately Rex's tongue felt tired. He just shrugged.

"Only okay, then?" Fixit said.

"How are those sims going?" Another medic, Kuir asked. "I've been asking Hack to let us watch. We've all heard those 501st rumors.

Rex immediately shook his head and looked away from the medics. There was no way he was going to let them watch him.

"Okay, okay, lay off." Hackjob said as he returned, balancing two trays.

"You're the one who told us to encourage him!" Fixit said.

Hackjob smoothly changed the subject to chafing remedies and Rex was left to eat his meal in peace. Rex knew he needed encouraging, but days like today made Rex grateful for Hackjob's protective nature.

Rex ate slowly. His appetite was non-existent these days. He found he could eat if he took his time. He'd rather not eat at all, if it was going to be such a trial, but Hackjob's constant nudging and hassling made it easier to just do as the medic wanted.

The other medics were done and gone when Rex finished.

"We're doing something different today, before we get to the sims." Hackjob told him as they disposed of their trays.

Rex nodded. It was probably some new exercise or physical test. Hackjob seemed to think mixing things up every so often would help Rex's failure to perform. Rex was surprised to be led to an examination room, where Neya Ha was waiting.

"What're we doing?" Rex asked as Hackjob ushered him in.

"We are stimulating the centers in your brain that produce serotonin." Neya Ha said.

"Why?" Rex asked with a frown. "How's that supposed to help?"

Rex was no medic or doctor, but he was pretty sure that serotonin didn't affect a soldier's ability to fight.

Neya Ha blinked slowly at him.

"You are depressed." He said simply.

"Yeah." Rex said. "It won't be a problem once I get back on the field."

"You are severely depressed." Neya Ha said. "To the point that you should not be allowed back to active duty, regardless of your physical condition."

Rex stared at Neya Ha.

"We were made to resist this sort of thing." Rex spoke slowly, as if Neya Ha was a confused shiny. "Once I'm in battle, I'll be fine."

"Your simulation scores are proving that to be incorrect." Neya Ha said.

A flare of emotion stronger than Rex had felt since his surgery pierced his chest: panic. He clenched and unclenched his gauntlets as he struggled to find something to say.

"Hey." Hackjob said and moved to put a hand on Rex's shoulder. "It's not permanent. We're gonna treat it. That's what we're doing right now."

Rex swallowed hard. He gave a curt nod.

Hackjob motioned for him to sit on the examination table. Neya Ha picked up a strange device that looked to attach to the head. Rex tried not to flinch as Neya Ha fixed it on.

"You should feel an immediate increase in mood directly after the treatment." Neya Ha said. "However, it will not be permanent. It will take multiple sessions for a lasting effect to be noticable."

Neya Ha turned the device on. Rex didn't feel much.

"We will leave it on for a half an hour." Neya Ha said.

The Kaminoan hesitated, and shared a look with Hackjob.

"Rex," Hackjob said. "It's possible that this treatment- won't work permanently."

Words failed Rex as he stared at the medic and the doctor.

"Much of it will be you." Neya Ha said. "This is not like a physical injury, where you treat it with bacta and do nothing else. You must work hard."

"I am!" Rex said through gritted teeth. "I haven't stopped working hard since the day I was decanted!"

A wave of exhaustion crashed over Rex. Wasn't what he was doing good enough?

Hackjob looked at Rex and Rex was taken aback with how somber the medic's expression was.

"I know you are, vod." He said. "And if you weren't a soldier, it would probably be enough. But you'll be going back into battle. Lives are going to depend on you. You'll need to be better."

Despair was creeping up Rex's throat, like the invisible grip of a Sith. What if he was already giving all he could and it wasn't enough? What then? Would they just quietly decommission him once they found out he literally could not get better?

The thought of decommissioning didn't scare him like it once did.

The rest of the session passed without further comments. Rex found himself feeling somewhat more hopeful as Neya Ha removed the device. Perhaps he hadn't given everything. He was determined to do better in the sims today. He was even looking forward to them.

"Can I trust you to do the sims?" Hackjob asked him. "And not just go back to our room?"

"Yeah." Rex said. "I've got a good feeling about today."

Hackjob grinned at Rex. He looked relieved and gave Rex a solid smack on the back.

"Good." He said. "Good. I'll be back to watch in a while. Got some some new shuppies to patch up."

"Good luck." Rex told him as they reached the simulation room door.

"Same to you." Hackjob said with a wink.

Rex entered the room. It was about half the size of the sim rooms on Kamino, but large enough to portray a decently accurate scenario. Rex approached the control panel. He entered his credentials and the statistics of his last attempt popped up. His mood fell slightly as he saw the time. Two minutes until failure. In a level two simulation. He had been winning level ten simulations in the same amount of time three or four months ago.

Rex sighed before inputting the parameters of a level three simulation. He was feeling much better today. He was confident he'd be able to do at least a three. He pulled his bucket on and grasped his DCs. A buzzer went off and the simulation began.

Rex dove into action. He ducked under the first few stun bolts from the training droids and took cover behind one of the metal plates that had popped up from the floor. He shot a few blasts from behind the plate. None of them hit. Rex clenched his hands around the grips of his blasters. He took a deep breath and tried again, this time focusing harder on the movement of his hands. He'd been stupid to try and use his old instincts. They wouldn't work anymore.

This time Rex was rewarded with the sound of a training droid powering off. He peeked over the slab. One down, four to go. He'd taken out the one nearest to him.

He bent low and ran to the next plate. The droids' shots dissipated on the durasteel. Rex shot again, taking out another droid this time. So far, so good.

He took a deep breath and stole a quick look at what was left to do. He needed to duck out, take the shots at the two nearest, take cover, and then finish the last one. He adjusted his grip on his pistols and readied himself to move.

Then doubt made him shrink back. He didn't know if he could take out the two droids on his way to the next bit of cover. The last two he'd had to concentrate hard to hit, and he'd been stationary. Did he stand a chance of shooting the droids while running? He had to, otherwise he'd be shot in the back.

Rex took another quick look around. His position wasn't ideal. The two droids had good cover and it would be near impossible to hit them from here.

He needed to pass this sim. There wasn't a choice. If he took too long, he'd automatically fail.

He made a break for it. His leg was handling better than he had expected as he ran and fired. He didn't take the straight route to cover; he zig-zagged to give himself more time to take the two droids out. He missed again and again until finally he stopped for half a second to aim. Two shots later they were slumped over, powered off. Rex felt a surge of triumph-

Then the stinging force of a training bolt slammed into his head. Rex fell to the floor, momentarily stunned. The third droid. He had kriffing forgotten the third droid.

"Simulation failed." A robotic voice announced.

As soon as he could move again Rex sat up, tore off his helmet, and hurled it at the wall. Even now, after he had gotten treated, he was failing simulations he had been passing as a six year old. He ripped off his gauntlets, throwing them after his bucket. Next was his leg. He sent it skidding across the floor. It didn't matter what they did to him, what they gave him, he was broken. The weight of despair bore down on Rex, making it so he could barely breathe.

A thought pierced his mind. It won't get better if you go back. And he wasn't going back. He couldn't. He had tried his best and it still wasn't good enough. He couldn't push himself any harder. It was over.

Rex stared at his scarred, disfigured hands. The despair was fading into nothing. It wasn't gone, just replaced by a vast desert of unfeeling.

The only thing that resembled light in his mind at that moment was the pinprick that represented his bond with Ahsoka. The thought of her made him twitch.

He had promised her. Not to come back, but to do everything in his power to come back. He would have to continue to try. It wouldn't be enough to return to the 501st, but when the Kaminoans finally took him away, Hackjob could at least tell Ahsoka that he had fulfilled the promise. It would be his last gift to her.

Rex grimaced. The idea of continuing on with no end in sight was overwhelming. But no, there was an end in sight: the end of the Kaminoans' patience. He just had to hold out until then.

But until then he would continue to try.

He crawled to where his leg had ended up and reattached it. Then he slowly walked to his gauntlets and pulled them on. He retrieved his bucket. Finally, he started a new, level two simulation.

It went as well as the first, as did the next three. Rex would inevitably make a tactical error that led to his immediate failure. Each failure seemed to reinforce his belief that he was not capable of returning to any state that would allow him to serve again. It chipped away at him, leaving him exhausted by the time Hackjob entered the room.

"Sorry, that took longer than I expected." He said cheerfully. "Let me see your results."

Rex looked away as Hackjob reviewed the failed simulations. The medic was quiet for a moment, staring at the screen with furrowed brows.

"This one's a better time than you've had before." He said, pointing out the level three sim. "And it's a higher level. Why'd you go back to level two?"

Rex shrugged.

"That first one was a fluke." He said. "Most of it was me hiding behind cover."

"Still." Hackjob said. "And then your scores for the rest are as low as I've seen them. You can't let failure get to you, vod. Things aren't going to be like they were before."

"You think I don't know that?" Rex snapped.

Hackjob didn't even flinch at Rex's outburst. He just moved, so he could look into Rex's face. With the searching gaze Hackjob was giving him, Rex was glad his bucket was on.

"I'm serious, Rex." Hackjob said. "You are going to fail. You cannot let that get in your way, or you'll never go back to the 501st."

Rex wanted to scream at Hackjob that was what the failure meant. He stayed quiet. He had the feeling that Hackjob wouldn't react well to the idea. Hackjob still had hope.

Mando'a:

strill-osik: a strill is a predator native to Mandalore with six legs, golden fur, and a drooling problem. Extremely remarkable. osik is crap

Urcye mhi: we'll meet again, adjusted version of normal goodbye, Ret'urcye mhi, which means maybe we'll meet again.

vod: brother

gedet'ye ner vod: please, my brother

Udesii: calm down, be still

shebs: backside

shab: the f word

Rex is not having a good time. As some of you were wondering, Rex does have contact with the outside world. He and Ahsoka figured this out pretty soon after Felucia. Neya Ha continuing to prove he's not like other Kaminoans. What happens to Rex, hyperthermia, is a real life reaction to certain anesthetics and guess what? It's based on genetic mutation! So they better not reveal that Rex is a bottle blonde because too much is riding in this fanfic on his hair being natural. And Rex gets depression! I kind of needed a reason that he couldn't go back to the 501st earlier (due to other story beats) and while originally I used his PTSD, the depression made the story more interesting. Trust me. The OG of this section was way, way worse. My sister/editor thought anti-depression pills were too common place to feel very Star Wars, so we came up with this bull crap way instead. Warning, it's gonna get dark in the next couple of chapters.

Welp, better go write my paper.

Wear your masks, remember to review, and have a great few weeks!