Star Wars Guys x Reader

Fault: Rex x Reader

A/N: requested by sadstrarwarsfan14 - dad!rex yall it's too short and it sort of makes no sense but this is all i could come up with :((( im sorry

Warnings: blood, self harm, cutting, swearing,

Word count: 808

Rex lets out of a sigh of relief as he lets himself into the apartment, his shoulders dropping. He'd finished his mission with Anakin and his brothers early, and he's looking forward to seeing you. He wants to make you dinner, maybe watch a holovid with you - but mainly, he wants to be a good father. He hates leaving you behind in the apartment, all by yourself when he goes out for a mission, because he doesn't know if he'll ever come back. He doesn't know if he'll ever see you again.

Taking off his helmet, he sets it on the counter and rubs his face, suddenly over come by a wave of exhaustion. Yawining, he glances around, looking for you. You aren't on the sofa or anywhere in the kitchen, and from here he can see through your empty bedroom door that you aren't in there either.

'Ad'ika?' He calls, and he hears a muffled clatter from the bathroom. 'Ad'ika? I'm home!'
'Hold on,' you reply.

Rex's head snaps up. Your voice is tense, and he can sense that something's not quite right. He's not quite sure what it is, but normally you'd be launching yourself from wherever you were perched and strangling him in a hug. Striding over to the bathroom, he presses his ear to the door and hears the tap running, then a clatter and a soft curse. Dreadful suspicions surface in his mind, and he frowns nervously, stepping back as the door snaps open.

The first thing he notices is your red rimmed eyes. The second thing he notices is your lips, gnawed raw. The third thing he notices is the half open drawer behind you, and the fourth is that your left arm is clasped behind your back, your sleeve hurriedly pulled down and clenched in your fingertips.

He puts it together in seconds. He's genetically engineered to be brilliant at problem solving, but his brain stumbles and falls under the feeling that he's failed you somehow, that he hasn't been there for you when you need him.

He knows you've realised he's figured it out, because your face crumples, and you let your left arm fall to the side, where he can see the blood seeping through your sleeve already. Tears streak down your cheeks, and you step forward and grab onto him, arms around his waist as you cling onto him, sobbing quietly. Rex holds you, desperately trying to find something to do. He'd readily sacrifice himself to protect you against someone, readily do anything to protect you, but he's at a loss on how to protect you from yourself.

'Buir?' You whisper, voice breaking. 'Buir, I - I'm sorry.'
'No,' he says. 'No, ad'ika, I'm sorry. Let me - let me help you bandage those - '

He cuts himself off, because he can feel a sob rising in his own throat. Gently, he leads you back into the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet as he retrieves a tube of bacta and a roll of bandages from the drawers under the sink. His fingers tremble as he smooths the gel onto your cuts, freezing when you wince in pain. You look at him with watery eyes, and he has to look away, or he'll break in front of you.

'Buir,' you say. 'It's not your fault.'
He looks up at you. 'Then whose is it?'

You're silent, and for a moment, he thinks that you're not going to say anything, that you're going to confirm that yes, yes it is his fault, yes, he's a shit father, yes, he hasn't been taking care of you, yes, you'd be better off without him -

'I don't know, buir. But I do know that if it's anyone, it's not you. You - you're always there when I need you. Don't - don't put this on yourself. Please.'

Rex hangs his head, staring at the tiles below him. His eyes sting, his heart stings, and it takes all he has to hold himself together in front of you. But then you reach down and grab his fingers in your smaller ones, squeezing them tightly. It's then that the sob wrenches itself from his throat, and he clutches onto your hand, tears collecting on his lashes. Guilt wells up inside him that you're the one that's comforting him when it should be the other way around, and he wraps his arms around you, kissing your forehead lightly. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, and he closes his eyes, put at ease by the rise and fall of your chest.

'Tell me, please. If - if there's a next time, don't - don't hide it from me, please,' he chokes out. 'I - I would do anything to protect you, ad'ika. Please.'
You swallow. 'I - I will, buir. I will if you accept that it's not your fault.'

the only good thing about this whole fic is the meme at the top