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#but detangling canon and fanon and personal headcanon is goddamn exhausting
wantonlywindswept · 11 months
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fox & rex ficbit
finally wrote some tcw! whoo.
tbh not entirely sure where this is headed (a lie: i know exactly where i want this to end up, and it is with alpha-17 storming coruscant in a fit of protective rage and also murder) and atm it’s just a lot of exposition ideas because...i still have no real solid feel for the characters?? so i’m kind of working through that.
it is exhausting. star wars fanon you are exhausting. why can my brain not just write with the tropes and be done with it
anyway basically rex and fox are alpha-17′s feral children/brothers/students/?? because all three of them are competent chaos gremlins. set vaguely after geonosis but before the GAR is actually properly structured, bc if star wars doesn’t know what its timeline is then why the hell should i
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Growing up on Kamino, Rex and Fox had three things in common: a taste for the popularly-loathed blue carbohydrate cubes, an unstoppable compulsion to always be the best at anything they did, and the extremely dubious honor of being Alpha-17's favorites.
Fox was one of the earlier Command Class clones decanted, the eldest of a batch that boasted Wolffe, Gree, Bly, and Cody: possibly the strongest CC batch that Kamino would ever produce. He came out with a massive chip on his shoulder and left his tact in his tube, and made a sport of talking back to every single trainer in the Cuy'val Dar--which was why he once spent two weeks in Medical with broken ribs, a punctured lung, and Dred Priest's bootprints on his chest.
On the other hand, Rex came from a CT batch that was nearly flushed for genetic deviation, and of the original five, only he and Crys made it past cadet training. He clawed to the top of all his training modules fueled by fear and spite, and did everything by the book to avoid any kind of attention that might further mark him as defective: he kept his head down and his mouth shut, no matter what he actually thought about things.
Alpha's ARC training was good for the both of them, in the end: it taught Rex how to speak his mind, and it taught Fox how to shut the fuck up.
"15 - 5," Alpha announced cheerfully, leaning on his training staff without even the slightest indication of being tired. Fox, flat on his back at Alpha's feet, wheezed something that might have been a curse.
"I'm starting to think that those 5 were a fluke," Rex said blandly. 
Fox's next growl was definitely a curse, and he lifted trembling hands to sign something insulting and anatomically improbable in Rex's direction.
"Go on, stop whining into my mats," Alpha said, nudging Fox in the side with his foot. "It's time for me to beat the other little brat into the ground."
Rex watched, snickering, as Fox very clearly struggled to keep from offering Alpha a similar insult. 
It was good that he was finally developing a sense of self-preservation.
It was just the three of them left in the gym, long after most sane troopers retreated to lick their wounds and get some kind of rest before they did the same thing all over again tomorrow. Even Fox's certifiably unhinged batch had abandoned them after a couple hours of extra training; most of the CCs had been tagged for the ARC classes, but some were taking to it with a little more enthusiasm than others.
Fox peeled himself off the floor, using his staff as a crutch as he staggered to the deceptive safety outside of the training ring. He passed Rex along the way; his encouraging pat on the shoulder turned into more of an uncoordinated smack to the side of the head, which Rex magnanimously decided to forgive on account of knowing he'd probably need Fox's help standing up later. 
Alpha was brutal, and relentless, and more than a little bit of a dick, but he wasn't cruel. He pushed them hard, taught them everything he knew, and if sometimes Rex caught him looking at them like he was worried they'd vanish the moment they left his sight, well. 
The campaign on Geonosis had been a hell of a debut. They'd lost thousands of brothers, and now they were all on edge waiting for their official postings. There was no telling where they'd end up next. 
Fox would undoubtedly be deployed where the fighting was the heaviest; he came off Geonosis with a dossier of accolades and a near-spotless string of victories. The rest of his batch had done equally well--all save Cody, who'd been unwillingly left behind on Kamino with a grade three concussion and a broken orbital bone, courtesy of one of Isabet Reau's battle circles.
Rex was probably destined for something similar. He'd performed well enough that he was guaranteed an officer commission, and he'd been all but adopted into the Command class after taking control of a battalion that had lost their commanding officer. It would be an absolute waste to not send him to the front lines.
Once ARC training was over, once they got their assignments and shipped out, it was entirely possible this would be the last time that Alpha saw them both alive.
With that cheery thought in mind, Rex spun the staff in his hands, met Alpha's grim expression with a sharp nod, and launched himself into the ring.
(Later, after Alpha dumped them both in the showers and ordered them not to drown, Fox gave him so much shit for only managing to win three matches out of twenty. But he also hauled Rex into the closer barracks that he shared with his batch, shoved him into the empty bed, and immediately passed out on him, which was enough of a comfort that Rex figured he could put off his vengeance for later. 
Maybe in the morning.
Maybe after they came back from the war, and they could prove to Alpha that he hadn't just sent them off to die.)
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