Rex flew.

The city buildings whipped by below him, looking utterly normal. The skyscrapers were intact, the streets were serene, and there wasn't even a single fire in sight. Usually when he was flying at this speed in Manhattan air space, his way was paved by smoke, debris, and half-wrecked buildings, with an EVO anywhere from truck-sized to building-sized waiting for him at the end. It was a routine by now; fly in, get clobbered, get his second wind (usually with the help of one of Six's famous three-word inspirational speeches), kick some EVO ass, and cure.

In this case, it was a bit more complicated than that. For one thing, this EVO was only a little bigger than a person.

For another, it was fast, and made of sharp things.

Forget a needle in a haystack; this was like finding a triple fishhook in a hay barn. Ridiculously difficult, and painful as all hell when he did.

He clutched his right arm as he flew, forcing himself to ignore the dull throbbing. The sleeve of his signature red jacket was torn on the outside of his arm from elbow to wrist, and stained with his blood. It was a miracle that his jacket had taken more damage than his actual arm. The rest of him wasn't much better. The left knee of his pants was torn, along with the skin beneath it, and his jacket was in tatters. The only part of it still in relatively good condition was his right pocket. Great, he thought distractedly. As soon as I cure him, he's buying me a new one.

"Rex. How're you holding up?" Dr. Holiday's voice came through his ear piece. A small part of him was impressed; he knew she was freaking out. He'd hardly ever been on a job this dangerous, and he already needed stitches as it was. But she was calm. If Rex hadn't known any better, from her tone alone he would have thought he was on a grocery run.

That was only a small part of him, however. Most of him was annoyed beyond belief because good God, that was a stupid question.

"Peachy," he growled back. What he wanted to say was no, I'm not okay, you idiot. What the hell gave you the idea that I was anywhere near okay? He hoped his tone got the message through. "Where's the EVO?"

There was a brief hesitation from Holiday.

"Doc, where's the EVO?" Rex repeated. He knew what she was thinking. Well, too bad for her. If he asked it any other way, he would go crazy.

"According to the tag, right below you," Holiday replied.

Rex dove. He was down in a matter of seconds, pulling up short of the pavement and landing smoothly on his feet. "What now, Doc? I don't see him."

"What? You should have. He just ran right past you."

"That's impossi—" Rex broke off in the middle of the word when he spotted the manhole in the street . "Hang on, I think I know why."

He didn't feel like wasting time levering up the lid, and besides, since Providence had evacuated the area, there was no one around to complain. With a massive mechanical fist, he swatted the lid to the side. His arm returned to normal, and he stared down into the dark hole.

"You had better be down there," he growled. "Okay, I'm heading into the sewer. I'm not gonna have street signs, so just direct me left, right, and forward."

"Wait, Rex, no!" Holiday protested. "It's too dangerous. There may not be enough space for you, but there'll be plenty for him."

Rex was already dropping through the manhole to the sewer below. He reached the bottom with a grunt of impact and set off swiftly down the dark tunnel. "I'm smaller than him, Doc!"

"Not when your limbs are made of metal! It's bad enough Knight's threatening Bleach Protocol, but—"

Rex's teeth were already set on edge as he ran through the dank passage. The sewer branched off every now and then, making the job of finding the EVO all the more difficult. Once the good doctor uttered those two magical words, something within him cracked. "Doc!" he snapped. "This isn't helping!"

Holiday went quiet. After a moment, she spoke again. "Okay. I juxtaposed a map of the sewer lines over the city map we were using to track you. Take the second turn on your right. And be careful."

"Not the time for careful, Doc," Rex said dryly as he turned down the appropriate tunnel. "Where is he now?"

"You're... you're coming right up on him. He's stopped moving."

"That can't be right," Rex said aloud. The tunnel stretched before him for quite a ways, and there was no sign in the semidarkness of the missing EVO. Not a sound, not even a moving shadow. "He's not here. Are you sure?" Cautiously he made his way down the tunnel, casting about for any clue as to where the EVO had gone.

"I'm sure. Check the floor; maybe he dropped the tag."

Rex grunted noncommittally. Sure enough, something glinted up ahead in the dim light, right in front of another tunnel entrance on the right. Rex jogged to the object and picked it up, squinting to inspect it. "Found the tag, Doc. Looks like he clipped the wall when he turned in here."

"Can you find him?" The doctor sounded reluctant to ask. "I can't help you anymore if there's no tag to follow."

Rex snorted at such a silly question. "'Course I'll find him. He's got something of mine." He ran the hand of his good arm through his hair, fingers tightening in the empty place where his goggles usually rested.

"How's your arm?"

"I'll live," he replied curtly The arm still stung, but he'd had the presence of mind to bind it on the way. "You worry too mu—"

The shadows in the branching tunnel moved, and the EVO struck.

Rex saw it coming a second too late. Time seemed to slow as the EVO lunged from his right, and his only thought was for his so far undamaged pocket. There was no time to dodge completely, so he simply twisted, taking the impact with his left shoulder. The EVO's attack tossed him into the opposite wall, and he curled protectively around his right side.

The EVO could do whatever it wanted with the rest of him, but it was not going to touch his right pocket. His heart was in his throat as he reached in to make sure the precious object was still there, and relief filled him when he found it intact.

"What's happening, Rex?"

"I found him," Rex grunted. "Or rather, he found me."

The EVO had backed off; seeing Rex lever himself up off the ground, it lunged again, its arms raised. Rex dove out of the way, wincing as he rolled to his feet. The EVO turned to him again with a ferocious snarl twisting its already grotesque face.

Rex swallowed hard as he looked at it. Up close, it looked sort of humanoid, though its head was almost crocodile-shaped. From the wrist down, its hands were viciously sharp blades, with backward-pointing hooks along the edges, like barbs. The fishhook simile had been apt. If he got stabbed, he would have a hell of a time getting those things out.

As if to add insult to injury, he could also see his goggles dangling from one of the blades, the strap impaled on a hook.

His biomechanical hands were second nature by now, and it took barely a thought for his nanites to form the appropriate shape. This was fortunate; in the next moment, the EVO hurtled forward at a breakneck speed, its blade-hands swinging toward Rex's unprotected chest. Summoning up all the speed he could muster, Rex caught the oncoming EVO in midair and quickly pinned it against the wall with his left hand.

Now!

His injured free arm returned to normal, and he quickly reached for the EVO, intent on curing it, hoping against hope that it was curable at all. He hadn't stopped to think about what he'd do if he couldn't.

The EVO shrieked, and its blades cut through the robotic hand as easily as they would through a stick of butter. Pain shot up Rex's arm, and he cried out as the freed EVO hurtled toward him again. With a fraction of a second to spare, he called up his shield generators and raised them at attacking EVO. Without warning, it switched direction in midair and kicked the glowing force field, sending Rex flying back.

Right pocket. Don't land on your right pocket.

Rex's back struck the tunnel wall, nearly driving the wind from his lungs. There was little time to recover; the EVO was attacking again. A thick, whiplike tentacle replaced Rex's right arm, and he swung it powerfully into his attacker's body. The movement batted the EVO back, and Rex charged.

His modified arm whipped out again, but the EVO effortlessly avoided the blow. Again and again, Rex struck, and again and again the EVO dodged him as easily as a bully playing keep-away.

Rex changed tactics, transforming his arm once more, this time into a massive sword. Maybe fighting blade-hands with another, much larger blade-arm would work.

It was worth a shot. Anything was worth a shot. Losing this fight was not a possibility he could deal with.

He brought his sword down in a diagonal cleaving motion, grazing the EVO as it leapt away. Rex attacked relentlessly, but with each swing the EVO evaded him. No matter what trick Rex tried, his opponent remained out of his reach.

The boy gritted his teeth, feeling his throat grow tight with rage. Helpless frustration filled him, driving stinging tears to his eyes. He put all his strength into one more desperate lunge.

"Come on!" he yelled hoarsely. "Stop it!"

The EVO sprang, barbed blades humming through the air toward him. Rex rushed to block it, and the Evo's blades sliced cleanly through his.

Fiery pain lanced through his already injured arm as the sword broke apart. Rex staggered back with a gasp, clutching it to his chest.

Holiday's voice was calling to him urgently. "Rex, your nanite activity is wavering. What's going on?"

"I can't do it!" Rex burst out, throwing himself to the side just barely in time to avoid another attack from the EVO. "Okay? He's too fast! I don't even know if it's curable, because every time I get close, I miss!" Tears were pricking in his eyes, threatening to spill. "I can't do it." He summoned his glowing battle axes, only for them to fall into pieces before the EVO had even touched them. He focused doggedly and built them up again, clenching his teeth to hold his machines together. "I can't pin him down. The only time I ever get close is when... when..." His voice trailed off; his eyes widened. There was the answer.

"Rex?"

"When he... attacks... me..." Rex looked to the EVO's barbed blades and swallowed hard. He would have to time this, and time it perfectly. If he was a second too slow, he'd get skewered. If he was a second too fast, the EVO would have all the time it needed to escape. Again.

The glowing axes retracted, and Rex faced the EVO unarmed.

"Well?" he challenged, staring it down. "I'm right here! Come and get me!" His hand was at his right pocket, covering it protectively.

The EVO hesitated, seeming to consider the invitation.

Don't you run away. Don't you dare run away.

The EVO charged. Rex tensed, focusing his nanites on curing.

Wait for it... and...

Now—!

...Too slow.

Rex looked downward in vague surprise, at first not comprehending what he was seeing, what it meant. Then his brain caught up, and he took it in all at once. His gloved hands clutched the bases of the EVO's blade-hands, and the telltale pattern of blue light glowed feebly, spread a few inches, and went out.

It was hard to keep focus with two barbed blades through his stomach.

There were no words in Rex's vocabulary, Spanish or English, for this kind of pain. He wasn't sure if he'd ever cried with pain before, but he was doing so now. He coughed, tasting blood, and nearly blacked out from the agony lancing through his body. Another cough, and blood trickled from his mouth.

Holiday was yelling in Rex's ear. "Your biometrics just dropped! Rex, what's happening? Rex! REX!" He was only half listening.

The EVO was trying to pull away, but its barbs were caught fast. No, there was only one way that Rex could see to remove the blades, if he could only just... focus... on something other than pain.

And then, once again, the answer came to him. His pocket.

If nothing else, his right pocket was untouched.

Rex coughed another stream of blood from his mouth and looked up at the EVO. His hands tightened on the blades, and he smiled faintly.

"It's... it's okay," he rasped out, ignoring the pain that came with speaking. "Not... your fault..."

The blue pattern lit up once more, and spread. The EVO shrank to a normal size, its face flattened, and normal skin, hair, and clothing reappeared. The barbs vanished, and the EVO's viciously sharp weapons retracted. The slick noise they made as they slid from Rex's body was hellish, and his eyes blurred with tears as he cried out in pain. But it didn't matter. The cold, hard blades were gone, and in their place he clutched a pair of hands.

Rex blinked and looked up into the restored man's face. His hand went into his right pocket again, and his fingers curled around the precious object it held. He drew it out.

His arms shook, but with both hands he managed to hold up the pair of dark sunglasses. As he slipped them into place over the former EVO's shocked eyes, he felt a great weight be lifted from his shoulders.

"Th-there..." he gasped out, smiling through blood and tears. "That's... better..." His last drop of strength spent, Rex collapsed into Six's arms.

He couldn't remember if Rafael Salazar had been the type to hug his sons, or what it felt like if he did, but he hoped it was something like this.

The unexpected hug was over too soon, and Six then lowered him to the ground, more gently than Rex would have thought possible with his curt partner. The floor of the tunnel was cold and hard against his back, and Holiday's frantic voice was uncomfortably shrill in his ear. He winced slightly and tried to pull out his communicator, but the dizziness of blood loss made his coordination poor. Fortunately, Six seemed to understand, and plucked out the offending earpiece.

Six was talking, but Rex was beyond listening. His eyelids were getting impossibly heavy, and he was more tired than he'd ever felt before. He felt Six press something into his hand; he clutched at it and recognized his goggles.

The ground was still cold and uncomfortable, and the pain of his wound was still making itself known. And yet, with his head cradled in the crook of Six's arm, and Six's free hand pressed against his stomach to staunch the flow of blood, in all his barely two years of memory Rex could not remember ever feeling so safe.

Six gritted his teeth, focusing on slowing the bleeding. Rex's eyes were closed, but he was breathing, and his weakened pulse beat on stubbornly. The agent cradled the unconscious boy as though he were a small child, silently willing the Providence medical team he'd called to hurry up and get there.

"Don't die," he told his charge firmly, and then, remembering how poor Rex was at following orders, added, "Please."

AN: This fanfic was inspired by this DeviantArt picture: http:/ / derangedblackkitten. deviantart. com/art/GenRex-Comic-All-Better-188295971 (You know the drill; delete the spaces.) Generator Rex belongs to Man of Action.