Firelight and Scar Tissue
Pairing: Rafa the Exo-Soldier x reader
Warnings: mentions of scars
Summary: Rafa's Deadframe is causing him pain, and you offer a helping hand.
The campfire’s light painted the surrounding terrain in shades of gold. The night had gone quiet after the chaos of the day. The Vault Hunters had made camp in some wreckage of an old Order transport, its hull now a windbreak against the midnight chill.
It was your turn for night watch, and everyone had turned in for the night. Well, everyone except Rafa. He sat adjacent to you, resting against a fallen tree. The firelight caught the sharp lines of his face, hair messy from hours under his helmet. His eyes, usually full of energy, were hooded now, narrowed against pain he couldn’t quite hide.
His hand was pressed tight to his shoulder, right where one of the suit’s connectors met flesh. Every shift of his weight made his jaw tighten.
Your eyes flickered off the weapon you were cleaning. “Frame’s acting up again?”
Rafa’s lips twitched in a humorless half-smile. “¿Qué crees?” he muttered, voice dry. “Feels like a Thresher took me for target practice, then came back for the encore.”
“That bad, huh? You hiding a whole demolition derby over there?”
“Only every damn night,” Rafa said. He tipped his head back against the log, exhaling through his nose. “Tediore built this thing to keep me breathing, sí, but comfort? Not in the budget. Cheap alloys, crappy welds. Guess pain was just part of the price tag.”
There was something in the way he said it, too matter-of-fact, like he’d already accepted it as permanent. It didn’t sit right with you.
You placed your weapon down and started to walk over. “Let me help.”
That got you a skeptical look, eyebrows raised, eyes sharp in the firelight. “What, you moonlight as a Vault Hunter and a masajista? Gonna rub the corporate cruelty right out of me?”
“Hey, I multi-class,” you said with a grin. “Now, move your hand.”
Rafa huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Dios mío, this ranks high on my bad decisions list.” Still, he let his hand drop and shifted his back toward you. “Fine. But if you hit the wrong nerve and I fry, you’re on stretcher duty next firefight.”
“Deal,” you said, already leaning in.
Up close, it was harsher than you’d imagined. The Deadframe’s connectors had left thin burn lines etched into his skin, surrounded by ridges of scar tissue. Your chest tightened at the sight.
You pressed your fingers gently against the muscle. Rafa hissed through his teeth.
“Relax,” you said softly. “I’ll work around the worst of it. Just breathe.”
“Easy for you to say,” he muttered. Still, his shoulders loosened under your hands as you kneaded slowly, carefully working into the knots. His head dipped forward slightly, strands of dark hair falling into his face.
For a while, neither of you spoke. Just the fire’s crackle, and the low whirl of the Deadframe’s coolers. Then Rafa broke the silence.
“You know, the others didn’t make it.” His voice was quieter now, words clipped. “The other Exo-Soldiers, I mean. I wasn’t the only prototype. Just the only one who… lasted.”
Your hands stilled for a moment. “You don’t have to-”
“No, está bien. You should know. Most of them burned out in weeks. Some in days. Walking corpses in suits. That’s what Tediore made us into. Disposable.”
You pressed your thumbs firmer into his shoulder muscle, grounding him. “And yet you’re still here.”
He let out a dry laugh. “For now.”
“No,” you said firmly. “You’re tougher than the junk they strapped to you. You’re more than what they built. You're not expendable to me… You’re you. You’re Rafa.”
His head tilted, and for the first time tonight, he really looked at you. Firelight caught in his eyes, softening their usual sharpness.
“You always talk like that?” he asked. “Like you actually believe it?”
“I do,” you said with a hopeful smile.
For a long moment, Rafa just stared. Then, slowly his shoulders slumped, the fight bleeding out of him as your hands worked the tension away.
“…Not bad,” he admitted at last, voice low. “Haven’t had anyone do this before. Feels… different.”
You smiled. “Get used to it. You’ve got people now. People who actually give a damn.”
Something flickered in his expression, surprise maybe, or just something he’d buried deep. Then his mouth curved into a crooked grin.
“Careful, cariño. Keep this up, and I might start expecting it.”
You chuckled, giving his shoulder a final squeeze. “Guess I’ll just have to deliver, then.”
Rafa leaned back against the fallen tree again, eyes half-closed, jaw finally relaxed. For once, he looked at ease. Not a Tediore prototype, not a weapon. Just human.
The fire burned low, the night pressing in quietly around the camp. You settled beside him in a comfortable silence, Rafa’s breath steady like a fragile promise.
For tonight, that was enough.
