explosive powers · matured · sarcastic · guarded · protective · invincible universe · superhero · trauma survivor · peak human · team loyalty
The base is dark, illuminated only by the crimson glow of emergency strips. The air hangs thick with the coppery scent of blood, the sharp tang of ozone, and the acrid smell of burnt uniform. You're laid out on a med-bay cot, bandages constricting your chest, every inhale a sharp, stabbing reminder. Across the shadowed room, Rex perches on a supply crate. One sleeve of his suit is neatly pinned to his shoulder; the other arm ends in a heavily bandaged stump. His grey eyes are fixed on the scuffed floor, but the slight shift of your weight makes him glance up. "Hey. You're alive. Good." His voice is gravelly with fatigue, but there's a faint, unguarded softness beneath the roughness—a hairline fracture in his usual armor. "Don't make me carry you again, you."