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At the moment? Nothing.

[ Which is not wholly accurate, but at least there's nothing that requires Cassandra's direct attention. He's not here to pile weight on her. All he knows is that Woden spiraled out of control again and one of the very first conversations he had had with Cassandra had illuminated their particular relationship: Cassandra is wound tight at the best of times, but when Woden's involvement comes into play, she seemed like she was going to damn well have a conniption. This is personal for her.

And then, all of a sudden, it grew more and more personal than before. That's not something to be reckoned with alone. Rex knows little of the rest of the Pantheon on their relationship with Cassandra - for all he knows, they've been just the support she's needed - but it would be downright neglectful for him to assume that that's the case. ]

I'm here to either take you out or to come in, [ he says crisply, as though this was something that they'd already decided and Cassandra had simply forgotten. He raises a brow. ]

Your choice. Figured you could do with the company.

[ For once Cassandra's quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. She's never had many friends, let alone ones who'll come out to help her when they imagine she must be stressed, ready with a drink. And in this place? She's more social than she's been in a long time, but those interactions tend to be a side effect of a certain chaos in her life.

She looks back at the boxes piled up in her front room. Well. ]

...It's probably healthier for me to go do something, but I also know we'll get piled on by paparazzi asking about a certain fuckwad if we do. [ She motions towards the interior of the apartment. ] So we're doing this here, I guess.

[ Rex inclines his head. He had been prepared to argue the point - she really should get out, clear her head - but he hadn't anticipated the paparazzi. It's a part of this world he still isn't accustomed to, and he has difficulties remembering that some people in his life are of more interest to the public than others. (Rex has, to this point, generally evaded their attention, both through bullying the press when they approach him and through his clipped, no-nonsense demeanor that simply doesn't make for scintillating press.) ]

Inside it is.

[ He sets the bottle on her kitchen table, pausing to look around at all of the boxes. ]

Did you need help unpacking these?

[ That, at least, he could do. Everything in its place. ]

God, no, Rex, don't make me feel worse than I already do. I'll unpack them, it's fine.

[ She says, despite the fact that she's now looking through one of the boxes for cups good enough to drink from. She hasn't made an awful lot from the freelance writing she's done, and though she never felt the need for money and fame compared to her peers- well, not as much money and fame- there's still some dissatisfaction associated with it; these won't be great cups. ]

How's Martin? I went to see him, I just don't know if he feels better around you. [ She sounds less inquisitive and more drained, worried. Now she gets why Rex is so protective of him; wanting to protect Martin's well-being is an idea that's buried its way into her brain, too. ]

It wouldn't be any trouble, [ Rex says, but it's a cursory protestation at best. If she doesn't want him to touch them, he won't - even if he is certain it would only take him half an hour to get things in order at the longest. It's the sort of thing he excels at, not that it has any particular use here.

Martin's another topic altogether. The boy is sullen, quiet, clearly in mourning and too scarred by whatever the kriff had happened to be able to string more than a few words together. Rex hasn't pushed. He's just counted any time he can get him out of the house or get him to eat or drink as a success. ]

Martin's doing as well as can be expected, [ Rex says slowly. ] I doubt he feels any better around me than he does around you, but there's nothing for it but time. He's young, and losing as many people as he has hasn't been easy for him, even putting the circumstances aside.

[ First Andy, now Anderson. Rex knows he ought to be eager to go back to war. A part of him is. The rest of him knows that Martin cannot take another loss and hopes that he remains as long as Martin does. ]

He'll recover, all in due time. How are you?

[ He's worried about Martin, of course - but he's not here for Martin. He's here for Cassandra. ]

I just don't want him to crawl into a mental hole forever. Even before this he seemed like he was scared of doing about half the things most kids his age like. Of course it took fucking Woden to torpedo any progress he could've made...

[ She feels like she should be getting coffee, but Rex bringing in alcohol throws a wrench in that plan. She finally finds two cups and sets them down on the table, rubbing one of her temples afterward. ]

I...could be worse. It's not like I've sat down for more than five minutes at any time in the last, say, two weeks. And then who knows when Woden's going to be back. [ She sits down, finally, though she clearly looks tense. ] I don't know. If I haven't lost my mind yet, I probably won't.

[ It won't torpedo Martin's progress. Rex cannot be sure of that, but he believes it in the way he believes in everything else: it's a belief he has because anything else is intolerable, and he won't allow it. Martin has suffered through great indignities in the past that would cripple any person, let alone a child, and he's still here. He won't hide away forever, even if that means Rex has to push him out.

That's besides the point. That will take time and patience and work and is nothing they can solve now. And Rex has been in a position of command long enough to know what his men need - and for some of them, like his medics, that means a moment to worry about themselves instead of everyone else. He's never managed to lose that mindset that comes with the responsibility he carries with him. His army's a little... different looking now, but the end result's the same. ]

Well, you have time to sit down now. Go on.

[ He gestures for Cassandra to sit down in a smooth, insistent gesture that brooks no argument before taking a seat himself and pours two fingers of liquor in each glass. He slides one glass her way, but makes no move to drink his own yet. ]

One night off won't impede your progress any. [ He studies her. She looks exhausted, which is what he expected, but at least she seems to be unhurt. That's good for something. ] It's good to have a moment - to take stock. Did your people come out of this whole mess all right?

[ And by all right, what he really means is alive. They must be strained and upset, certainly, but as long as you still draw breath, you can recover from anything. ]

[ She huffs, a bit. She can already tell Rex is here to look after her, and she's so used to being the one who has to tell others they're not taking care of themselves that she feels like she's being babied. She'll at least accept it from Rex more than a lot of other people, and she can tell he's not making a show of it.

She runs a hand through her hair and looks away. ] "All right" is...not wrong, but kind of generous? If we're not counting everyone's favorite shithead anymore, none of us died. And we actually worked together most of the time. That's a miracle, more than any of our bullshit powers...

[ The one who's probably least "all right" is the other one she knows Rex is familiar with, though. ] Look, I don't know if he wants me going out giving the full rundown to people, but Woden was sapping off Dio's powers to do everything. He had him locked up. If you and Martin haven't seen him at all, that's why. He had to crash.

[ Well, Cass had to knock him over the head. That was the crash. ]

None of you dying is a start.

[ And something that can't be said for everyone involved. Rex delicately decides not to voice that thought. It would be counterproductive. ]

Beyond Woden, of course, who I'd happily kill again. [ Probably too happily for most just people's liking, but Rex can accept that. He'd be lying if he said he never got some modicum of satisfaction from killing those that need to be killed and he's got a good fifteen reasons to want to kill Woden.

Dio, however... he shakes his head, a grimace just tugging at the corners of his mouth. ]

He's rarely home as it is. I'd thought he'd be staying with you lot. I'm sorry to say we didn't notice - if we had, maybe we could have done something sooner. [ Poor sod. That sounds awful, and Dio's been nothing but uncommonly decent to everyone around him. ]

He doesn't deserve that. And now? Is he recovering? I have to admit I don't know the ramifications of... sapping someone's powers.

[ It certainly sounds unpleasant. ]

[ She snickers. ] I think plenty of people would like to kill Woden. Just don't tell me you're going to make an active attempt the minute he gets back. He's going to get all pissy again if he gets hunted down one too many times...

[ Even though that's a serious worry, it does make part of her feel better. Her expression shifts back to seriousness discussing Dio, though. ]

He'll be fine as long as he actually stays in bed. Which I hope will be easier than usual. [ She seems somewhat annoyed, but the moment the words come out of her mouth, she feels kind of bad. She's annoyed with Dio out of care for him, but he's still one of the few people in the world she doesn't like to insult. ] It's- we'll take care of it. You've got enough to worry about in that house.

[ Seriously, she doesn't know how Rex is keeping it together. At least he seems to be keeping it together. ]

[ Hell, there's little more that Rex would like than to hunt the man down. He'd like to make him bleed. But he'll do nothing of the kind because he believes in following the laws of the land, he believes in doing what is best for everyone and not for his own petty desires, he believes in not necessarily taking the first action when it will just end in more bloodshed and tears for everyone involved.

Pity. It'd be terribly satisfying. ]

I wouldn't worry about that. I'm not the type to hunt someone down.

[ If he ever intrudes again, though, Rex won't have any questions to ask him. The thought alone is a very nice one, and he settles into it before nodding and moving on. ]

Though I'm also not the sort to be overwhelmed, if you wind up needing the back-up. It's plenty to deal with, fair enough, but I'm no stranger to dealing with a kid in mourning - nor one who's gone through a traumatic situation. There's only so much you can do, short-term. [ He twists the glass in his hand, an absent, thoughtful motion. He does not acknowledge how Martin's trauma is affecting him - to discuss his own worries would be an absurd, selfish notion - and Andy's death... saddens him, yes, more than it should, yes, but this is what he was made for. He won't buckle underneath it. He'll bear it and move on. He always does, and he always will. ]

You said we - that means your whole group is keeping an eye on him - and on each other? Last I checked, you weren't so certain about your prospects of being able to work together.

You're no stranger to it, huh. Not sure I want the story behind that right now. [ She taps her finger on her glass, for the sake of movement. Rex's life is one she's both fascinated and horrified by; it's perhaps a sign of her mood that she doesn't press further. ]

Shockingly, in turns out that Woden is the one thing we can work together about. Everybody pitched in like some big goddamn happy family. I suspect when I'm not checking on Dio that Baphomet is, and if not us- I don't know, Baal? When he's not trying to save his ambassadorial rep? My point is, everyone likes Dio. He might want us to leave him alone for a month after all this shit.

[ That's probably not going to happen.

She's not one for jokes right now, but she eyes the liqour. She needs to say something. ] You know it's technically not legal for you to drink that.

[ Rex nods, happy to accept it - and, frankly, a little relieved as well. He'd do what needed to be done to help, both because he rather likes Dio and because he owes one to the people responsible for taking Woden down in the end, but he'd rather not play nursemaid. He's no good at it.

And just for that last comment of Cassandra's, he gives her a quick grin, no more than a fierce flash of the teeth, and takes a sip. He'd forgotten she'd found that out, back when he was younger. He'd been glad nobody decided to make a big deal out of the whole affair once things returned more or less to normal. ]

Technically not, no. For the record, I did try to fill out my official documentation properly, but nobody believed me. [ They had hardly believed 24 either. One of them made a crack of you wish and he'd managed to wave it away by using space as an excuse.

Space works alarmingly well as an excuse in most situations. People would rather nod along than stick around to listen to the flawed science of the matter. ]

You should have some. It's good stuff, not rotgut like you might find elsewhere.

Oof. [ That nearly gets a smile out of her. Excellent job, Rex. ] Seriously, just put the age you look down for everything. It's going to make things easier. And cause way less legal problems whenever you have to sign on as Martin's guardian for shit.

[ She says that as she actually does pour some of the liquor into her glass. She's somewhat reluctant to drink too much. She's still bristling with paranoia, really, expecting to hear something else has gone terribly wrong any minute. She really can't be seen drunk, if that happens. Especially her.

But there's something else on her mind, too. She asked before, but she knows that even if she's been through a lot of shit this past few weeks, so has Rex- and just after a bizarre month for him, too. She's never been one to catch onto emotional cues, but if Rex ever had a reason to stress... ]

Did you...seriously come here just for me? Be honest.

For Martin, yes. Otherwise I'd be just as happy letting them make sense of it.

[ Translation: Despite my tendency not to emote, I just really, really like using it to fuck with people. What can he say? He has to get his jollies somewhere, and that's just about the only thing his accelerated aging is good for now that he's grown.

Her next question, however, earns her a somewhat perplexed expression as Rex tries to suss out what her question is, what the alternative would be. What ulterior motive would he have for coming here? Does she really doubt that another would come by for the sole purpose of making sure she's all right?

Which is a load of nonsense, if true. Rex may not be particularly in touch with his emotions, but even he knows it would be heinous not to check up on those affected most by this whole mess. ]

Of course I did. Why else would I be here?

Come on. [ She's shocked Rex wouldn't know what she means- and she doubts he's hiding anything. She thought it was clear.

She knows how much Rex cares about the people around him- his clear care for Martin, the way he's helped her. And he defended Andy, too. ]

Because the two people you're closest to were brainwashed for a week, one of your housemates was also kidnapped, and one of those people is dead right now. I think it's probably normal for me to ask if you're holding up fine.

[ She finally takes a sip. ] So are you?

Ah.

[ Recognition registers on his face. It's not that he's unused to others caring about his well-being - his lot is not so sad as that, thank the gods big and small - but it's rare that someone will directly ask him about it, particularly when it comes to a death, commonplace as death has been in his life. Usually there's getting aggression out through sparring or at the shooting range or through training protocols, hauling a brother down to the soothing motions of repainting armour, or when their leaves permit it, someone coming to share a bunk.

Everything is different here. This too is different, both more direct and not. ]

I am. [ And he is. He feels awful, of course, aggrieved and tightly wound up, and it would be a lie to say that he hasn't taken it out at the shooting range or on a punching bag since everything had fallen apart. He's sad and angry and confused and aimless but even so, he's holding up. He has not flagged in upholding his professional duties, has not lagged in keeping his own space tidy and clean, has recontinued his brothers' Mando'a lessons, has been taking care of Martin to the best of his ability.

That's the very definition of holding up fine. You can mourn, yes, but it should never interfere with your duties. And this has not interfered with Rex's, as paltry as his current set of duties may be.

He sets his glass on the table with a click and sighs, quietly. When he speaks, his voice is just as quiet, though it's only low, not weak. ]

I'm angry about what happened, of course, and... I mourn Andy's death. [ It had been sudden; jarring. He wishes he could have seen her body. Knowing what he knows about her, seeing the things he has, her death still doesn't feel real. ] I'm not made of stone. I can hardly claim to be unaffected. But I'm holding up fine. Truly.

[ Perhaps the lines he's been fed about not being affected by stress, about being able to withstand any mental duress are lies - but when you believe those lies, it makes little difference at the end of the day. ]

[ Cassandra has, to put it bluntly, fucked up at performing empathy before. Even to people she cares about, even to people she's tried desperately to understand, she's made assumptions and been unable to see past them, got stuck deep in her own preconceptions and had to be shaken out of them. She's spent the last few months trying to ease those problems.

But after all this? For most people, she doesn't have the energy. Someone she trusted used her that badly, hurt those around her that badly. The world might be fucking ending. Sometimes it feels too hard to bother.

For Rex, though, she's trying. And his voice dipping the way it does catches her. ]

Are you sure? Because you don't sound like it. [ She says, knowing she's glossing over how much of a wreck she is by following this trail, in some ways using this to get his attention off of her. ] Just because you avoided getting your mind hijacked doesn't mean you have to be all dandy.

Seriously. If you're worried about Martin, I'm sure somebody would keep an eye on him. Archie. Or me.

[ Once she says that she knows Rex is going to shoot her down, tell her that she went through much more and this isn't her problem. Should've just stuck with Archie, huh. ]

Absolutely not. All things considered, you hardly need to worry about me - you've got too much on your plate to occupy yourself with that. Besides, Archie's already been 'round. He cares too much about Martin for anything else to be the case.

[ And just like that, the moment's over. Rex had been honest with Cassandra because he's a reflexively honest man but stoicism is where he's happiest and it's where he eventually settles, expression shuttering, tone brightening. ]

I'm fine.

[ And that is, as far as he's concerned, the long and the short of it. He's fine. He always is and always has been, through worse things than this. He's not the one whose world is falling apart around him. ]

And I didn't come here to talk about myself. [ He studies her. ] Have you been eating? Not that I'm here to make you a homemade meal, but you ought to at least be getting some food in.

[ Basic self-care's usually the first to go. Rex can't cook, but he can order takeout like nobody's business. ]

[ She rolls her eyes and sighs, though not in a particularly demeaning way; it's more than she's exhausted. She wants Rex to give this to her straight, and she's still not sure he's telling her everything, nor is she sure he's truly doing as fine as he says.

And his needling about her eating habits gets to her, too. Partially because- well- she never eats very well. Now that he mentions it, she hasn't really eaten much, and hasn't since far before this Woden fiasco. But like hell if she's giving that away. ] Of course I've eaten enough. I'm not that far gone, thank fuck.

[ She's maybe eaten two pieces of toast today. ]

Besides, nothing's unpacked anyway. We'd have to dig through all my shit for anything to eat with. [ In her head, this is a far more successful deflection than it really is. ]

You do realize that's not the best counterargument you've come up with, right? And ordinarily, you're pretty good at that.

[ Which is to say: he doesn't believe her. She may not be starving herself but eating's not just about calories. It's about the nutritional profile of the thing as well and, for that matter, a little bit of comfort. There's almost nothing Rex finds more comforting than a good cup of caf, and he knows the same goes for plenty of people and food, no matter what that food will be. ]

At any rate, I haven't eaten, so I may as well order something - or pick it up, if you don't care to give out your address. And in the meantime, you know I could get you unpacked in twenty minutes flat, yes?

No. No, Rex, come on, if you fucking baby me I'm going to feel even more like shit. Did I not make that clear?

[ Rex, as a close friend, is the rare person who can escape Cass' frequent anger. She's not hiding that she's frustrated with him now, though, maybe for the first time actually directed at Rex himself.

She does need to be cared for- but she's not going to acknowledge it. Acknowledging it means she's acknowledging how much the last few weeks have hurt, and she's not ready to do that yet. Even with someone she trusts. She rubs one of her eyes, trying to hide how tired she is, too. ]

Fine, we'll- we'll order something. What do you like? I'm not really familiar with whatever tastes you picked up living in deep space.

[ Rex clicks his tongue. ] I'm not babying you. What I'm doing here now is no different from what I'd do for...

[ Ah. Never mind. Rex shakes his head. He doesn't know if she'd understand, or if she did, if she'd even appreciate the sentiment. As close as Rex is to those he's found here, he knows that he doesn't see the world the same way that he does. He moves quickly by necessity; a single month for him seems to last an age. Is it any wonder that he grows attached? And he grows attached quickly. It's the way he's always been. Either someone is one of his own, or they're not. He doesn't know how to move in half measures. It's not his way.

It's a damn good thing clones can't be Force sensitive, because he'd make a damned awful Jedi. He cares too much. And somehow, though he's not sure when it happened, that includes Cassandra.

He discards the thought, opening a menu on his communicator and shoving it Cassandra's way before rising to his feet. ]

Chinese is good. Here, you look at the menu and figure out what you want. I can at least take care of the dishware.

[ Ugh. Though she's trying to bury it, she already feels guilty about all of this. Guilty because so many people she's close to got wrapped up in it. Guilty because she didn't realize Woden would do the exact same thing, just on a larger scale, that he did back in London. Guilty because she didn't realize Woden was right there, using her, for so long. Maybe she's reaching, but Rex seems aware of it- too aware of it.

At the very least, he's aware of how bad she really feels. And she doesn't even want herself to know that.

Fine; if he's going to be so fucking helpful, she'll take that as an excuse to needle him. She starts looking through the menu, but she's not that intent. ]

What you'd do for who?

[ Hell. Of course she's going to make him say it, isn't she? It doesn't feel like the thing that ought to be said out loud. It ought to be the sort of thing that's just implicitly understood. But that's never the way it is with Cassandra, who likes to pick and tear at everything until they're down to their base elements, so perhaps he should have never expected it in the first place.

It's easier not to look at her as he unloads dishes, thoughtfully rubbing his fingertips against some of the dust while she - hopefully - busies herself with figuring out what she wants to order. ]

A brother, [ he says, stiffly. ] After undergoing a hardship.

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