#Week12

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

i reach for you in the night (you're still my brother, after all)

@summer-of-bad-batch week 12 prompt 'Nightmares'

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Hunter, Crosshair Set in Season 3, just before they go back to Barton IV in The Return Word Count: ~2585 Read Here on AO3

Synopsis: Since his return from Tantiss, things between Hunter and Crosshair have been nothing but tense. But even in his anger, Hunter is unable to ignore how distressed Crosshair is when he is trapped in a nightmare.

Written by request for @theproblemwithstardust after I made a throwaway comment in "Forget I asked" about Hunter holding Crosshair through his nightmares. Specifically, the request was phrased as "well if it’s in the hair braiding universe, and before Crosshair left Pabu… what about when he first got back to the squad with Omega (after Tantiss) and was still sort of fighting with Hunter. Maybe between them all meeting up again and The Return? I bet Crosshair might have nightmares while he’s stressed about returning to Barton IV 🤔 (and Hunter wouldn’t let him suffer even if they’re fighting)"

Hunter was dragged from the edge of sleep by that ill-defined sense that told him something was amiss, even if he couldn’t put his finger on quite what.

Tech had always told him that his trouble-sense was nothing to do with his enhancement, and everything to do with his leadership skills. Sometimes he wondered if it wasn’t a bit of both.

Now, as he stretched his senses out through the sleeping ship, he was certain it was the manipulated genetics that were at play. He should be able to sense three sleeping bodies – Omega, Wrecker, Crosshair.

But he could hear erratic breathing. Feel the shudders of a trembling body vibrating through the stack of narrow racks to reach him.

Not Omega then.

Still, he cracked an eye open and glanced up at the curtained gunner’s mount just to reassure himself. The curtain was motionless, and he could sense nothing from beyond it that would cause him concern.

One of his brothers then.

There was a time when he’d known all their life-signs so intimately that it wouldn’t even have taken him this long to sense whose distress had woken him.

Momentarily derailed by regret, he covered his face with one hand, drawing in his own shuddering breath. Then, steeling himself, he pushed sleep from his mind and sat up.

He was in the middle rack. Wrecker’s breathing beneath him was deep and even, and when he peeked over the edge he could see his brother fast asleep in open-mouthed exhaustion.

That left Crosshair.

Hooking one hand under the rack above to steady himself, Hunter leaned out and peered up at the form on the bunk overhead. A thin grey blanket was wrapped around narrow shoulders which twitched and spasmed with whatever midnight haunting tormented his brother.

He wasn’t awake, that was for sure. Just a nightmare.

Hunter paused, half-way to retreating back to his own narrow berth.

Just a nightmare.

Something bitter caught in his chest, so sharp it almost choked him. He was angry at Crosshair. So angry.

Yet at the same time the knife of guilt twisted in his gut, unable to ignore his distress.

Not now he could do something about it.

Hunter squeezed his eyes shut, breathed hard through his nose as he banished the feeling that stung unbidden at the edge of his conscience. He wouldn’t feel bad. He wouldn’t.

They had been separated. So many light years and the Empire a gulf between them. He didn’t have to feel responsible for what Crosshair had been through at their hands.

Crosshair had chosen that for himself. Hunter had given him another option, and he hadn’t taken it.

Leaving him on that platform, skyline streaked with destruction as Kamino burned, had torn his heart in two.

But it had been Crosshair’s choice.

No chips. No control. Hunter knew that now, no matter how he’d wanted to believe otherwise at the time. Crosshair had looked at him with that bruised expression, hurt and bitterness and spite etched into the stern lines of his face, and he had turned his back on them. Refused to consider rejoining them, even when the Empire had bombed the city out from under them.

Hunter tried to summon that core of anger and hold onto it. But it was a slippery thing, the spiky edges of his hurt made slick with the sounds of Crosshair’s suffering.

Because suffering he was, trapped at the mercy of whatever memory or vision stalked his sleeping hours.

If he could just quiet the rest of his senses enough, Hunter would be able to feel the lightning-storm of firing synapses that danced in the sniper’s mind, neural pathways surely altered by torture and conditioning that he couldn’t even begin to conceive of.

Not his brother’s mind any more. Not as he’d known it before.

But still his brother who tossed and whimpered in his sleep like he had when they were cadets.

Hunter clenched his teeth so hard that the tendons in his temples ached. Then finally he made his choice and swung out of his bunk once more, carefully tucking his feet onto the lower rack without disturbing Wrecker so he could stand up with his elbows linked on Crosshair’s bunk.

“Hey. Cross.”

The nickname slipped out by accident. Some deep-rooted instinct had set it at the tip of his tongue without conscious thought, and it had slid out before he had time to click his teeth shut and bite back that instinct towards sympathy.

He didn’t feel sympathy for his brother, he reminded himself. Crosshair had suffered, but no more than they had in his absence. No more than Omega had, taken captive by the Empire and held against her will.

“Crosshair.” The name was a grunt, and this time it was accompanied by digging his knuckles between Crosshair’s shoulder blades. An open hand to his back felt too soothing, and Hunter wasn’t ready for that gesture yet.

Crosshair woke with a flinch, spinning towards the source of the perceived threat with his hands up defensively. He didn’t cry out; was dead silent except for a breathy gasp inhaled as he surfaced from his nightmare, and the ragged breathing that followed.

And his eyes. Hunter had been waiting for a scowl at being woken, that same dark, closed glare that Crosshair directed at him for every one of his waking hours.

No. Crosshair’s eyes were wide and frightened, tear-glaze glinting in the darkness. Hunter startled at the way it constricted his heart, gaze locked on the look of slack panic on Crosshair’s pale, narrow face.

Several blinks cleared the child-like panic from Crosshair’s face, and Hunter watched in real-time as the veil of discontent settled back into place, defences quickly rebuilt. Crosshair’s shoulders hunched protectively, open hands which had shielded him on instinct as he woke bunching to fists and folding across his chest.

“What is it?” he hissed, some of the displeasure of his words lost between panting breaths that he still hadn’t managed to regulate.

Hunter let his own frown fall into place to match Crosshair’s, wiping away any evidence of that intuitive concern he had felt to see his brother so distressed as he woke. He chewed on his answer a moment, then offered it gruffly into the silence between them.

“You were having a nightmare.” Then, as though that weren’t explanation enough, “Thought I’d wake you from it. You’re welcome.”

He couldn’t help the bitter sarcasm that leached into his voice. Crosshair had that effect on him, even when he was trying to be nice.

“I didn’t ask you to,” spat Crosshair, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Like he was looking for Hunter’s angle of attack.

“No, you didn’t,” agreed Hunter with a bite of anger in his words. “Because you were too busy whimpering like a tubie.”

It felt dangerous to be stood on the edge of the bunk like this, facing down Crosshair’s sharp tongue and acerbic mood. He couldn’t predict how his brother was going to react.

He’d done it often enough when they were cadets.

But they’d known how to trust each other back then.

Crosshair made no move to lash out at him. Nor did he roll away, turn his back to Hunter and ignore him. His gaze might bleed with distrust, but he didn’t look away from Hunter’s face.

Hunter waited for another agonising minute, both of them locked in mutual silence. Neither was ready to be the first one to break their rapport, however tense it may be.

He sighed and reached out again, this time lightly cuffing Crosshair’s shoulder.

“Move over.”

“What?” Crosshair’s question was acid even as he complied.

Hunter levered himself up onto the top bunk, shoving at Crosshair’s body until he sat, then settled himself alongside. On the top rack they didn’t have space to sit up fully, so he slouched until he didn’t have to bend his head to stop it hitting the roof of the Marauder and dangled his legs off the edge of the bunk.

A wordless snort of displeasure punctuated Crosshair’s own movements, but he copied Hunter until he too was slid down in the rack, arms folded across his body so he was hugging himself protectively.

“What’re the nightmares about?” Hunter asked, voice rough and low in the night.

A long, long pause before, “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“If you’re back with us, it concerns me.”

Hunter wasn’t sure if he allowed the edge of command into his voice, of if it happened subconsciously. All he knew was that with Crosshair back, wrapping himself in the distance of being the Sergeant made things easier.

It wasn’t the right thing to say; there was no ‘right thing to say’ between them right now, time and distance and hurt an unscaleable wall between them. He felt the electric thrum of tension through Crosshair’s body.

“This really doesn’t.”

Hunter let it rest for a moment, before trying a more direct question.

“Is it about the planet we’re going to?”

From the way Crosshair immediately stiffened, the answer was yes. But Crosshair’s reply was, “It won’t affect the mission.”

Hunter wanted to curse. There were secrets hiding in the silences between Crosshair's words, and he would tear them out of him with teeth and nails if he had to.

Eventually.

For now, they needed Crosshair and what he knew about Tantiss. That meant he couldn’t risk starting a fight; the kind of argument that would lead to Crosshair walking out, refusing to help them.

And Crosshair needed him.

“You should sleep,” he said with a resigned sigh. “We need you rested for whatever we’re going to find at this Imperial base tomorrow.”

Crosshair merely sniffed, and didn’t move.

Hunter would have prompted again, but now he could feel a faint vibration through the bunk once more. He glanced down; noticed the shaking of Crosshair’s hand where it was tucked under his opposite elbow.

“Cross.” This time the soft-spoken nickname was deliberate. “Want me to stay up here a while?”

“No,” came the sullen response, although Crosshair made no move to pull away, or eject him from the bunk.

Hunter bristled, violence itching at his fingertips. He had consciously chosen to set aside his anger to wake Crosshair from his nightmares, only to be met with his brother’s difficult behaviour. What he wouldn’t give to be able to fight it out, like when they were cadets.

“Fine,” he muttered, his words a low growl. “I’m going to sleep.”

He pushed to the edge of the bunk, ready to slip back down into his own rack. Hesitated, then grunted back over his shoulder, “Wake me if you need me.”

Crosshair’s eyes gleamed in the darkness. He didn’t reply.

Hunter slipped silently back into the middle rack, settling on his side with his back to the rest of the Marauder. He tried to let go of the tension that coiled through him from confronting Crosshair, breathing deeply in an effort to trick his body into relaxing.

All it achieved was to enhance how aware he was of his surroundings, the faint scent of cortisol permeating the air. He had always been able to sense his brothers’ stress, but now it made him ache with inner conflict.

Again, Tech had called it his leadership instincts, but Hunter knew how the line between his enhancements and his role as squad leader blurred. Being able to pick up on the most subtle signs of distress had given him a preternatural ability to appear at his brothers’ sides before they even knew they needed him.

And it was hard, so hard, to lay there and ignore the distress he could feel radiating from Crosshair, sharpened now he was awake. Guilt licked at his conscience once more, wondering if it would have been better to let the sniper remain in the grip of his nightmares, if waking him only meant he would dwell on things.

He had tried to do the right thing. Except everything seemed to be backfiring on him since Crosshair returned.

He heard shifting above him, listened closely to Crosshair’s movements. There was no question that he was planning to lay awake until he was sure his brother had settled into a dreamless sleep.

A light touch brushed against the back of his shoulder. Hunter jumped, turning so quickly that his legs tangled in his blanket.

Crosshair’s arm dangled over the edge of the bunk, fingers pulled back into a loose cage as though he had flinched away after touching Hunter’s shoulder.

Hunter let out of the breath he’d been holding, settling onto his back. He watched the edge of the bunk for a moment, waiting to see if any more of Crosshair would appear. When none did, he raised his forearm up, elbow finding a resting place on the edge of the rack, and let their fingers brush.

A nervous twitch greeted him, Crosshair’s hand convulsing as though he was going to pull away entirely. Hunter held his hand still; held his breath. Waited, agonisingly, for his brother to make the next move.

Slowly, as if he didn’t trust the contact, Crosshair’s fingers threaded through Hunter’s – loosely at first, then as Hunter gave a faint squeeze, grabbing tightly enough to squash the bones of Hunter’s hand. Hunter merely rolled onto his side, bringing his other hand to cup his elbow and support his vertically held arm.

He didn’t say anything. Nor did Crosshair.

But the grip of his hand was vice-like, thumb tracing a deliberate track along the back of Hunter’s knuckles. Hunter could feel the unbidden tremor ripple through their joined hands.

Something aching and hollow opened up inside Hunter at that simple point of contact. Things were broken between them. Their bond, once so strong, torn asunder by betrayal and separation.

Pillowing his head on his upper arm, Hunter slid his hand up inside Crosshair’s wrist to grasp his forearm.

“I’m here, Cross.” It was mumbled half-into his own arm, voice thick with conflicting emotions. “’M here.”

Crosshair wasn’t okay. Hunter could hear it in his erratic breathing, in the racing of his heartbeat. He could feel in in the hand extended, seeking comfort.

And Hunter wasn’t okay either. He hadn’t been, for a long time, and had been doing a good job of squashing the uncertainty down to doggedly keep going, one day at a time.

He didn’t trust Crosshair enough to open himself up about any of that. Wasn’t sure if he’d ever trust Crosshair like that again.

But right now, in the dark and the quiet and with the tenuous bond of their joined hands, none of that mattered.

He hadn’t forgotten the betrayal.

He hadn’t forgotten the hurt.

But just for a moment, he could look past it and see that his brother needed him.

Hunter stroked his thumb across Crosshair’s pulse point, feeling the way Crosshair’s hand went tight around his own in response.

Holding hands wouldn’t stop the nightmares. But with every passing moment Crosshair’s breathing calmed a little more, slipping into a more regular pattern as sleep tugged at him once more.

An undercurrent of anger still hummed through Hunter’s veins. There was so much he wanted to shake out of Crosshair.

But that would wait, until tomorrow at least.

For now, he would lay here, his hand wrapped around his brother’s, and remember a time when Crosshair had been his world.

Lay there and achingly, yearningly, wonder if they would ever get back there.

[neyswxrld]

one big step

Crosshair x gn!reader

summary: Plagued from horrible nightmares, you make your way over to Crosshair's bedroom, looking for some comfort.

warnings: reader has nightmares in the beginning, in which crosshair dies or gets hurt in various ways, pre-relationship, some hugs and snuggles, sharing a bed

words: ~1380

a/n: hello! it's been some time since i wrote a crosshair x reader fic. even though it's a rough start, it's mainly fluff and soft!crosshair. this is also a fic for @summer-of-bad-batch, with the prompts "forget i asked.", hugs and nightmares. i hope you enjoy!

Crosshair gets shot.

Crosshair jumps off a cliff, trying to land on a smaller one below. He misses.

Crosshair gets stabbed.

Crosshair is crushed by falling containers.

Crosshair stands too close to an explosion. He blows up.

Crosshair is surprised in his gunner's nest. He doesn't make it.

Crosshair's other hand gets cut off.

Crosshair lying on the floor, lifeless.

Crosshair gets tortured, his wailing a sound you'll never forget.

Crosshair, smeared with blood. His own blood.

Crosshair, slumped in a corner, unmoving.

Crosshair, dead.

Dead. He's dead. He's dead and he won't come back again. Not ever.

You'll be alone with all those horrors in your memories. You'll never be happy and careless again without him.

You're the one who is tortured. Who falls off the cliff. Stabbed. On fire. Dead.

Dread fills you, pain everywhere. In every fiber of your body. It hurts- it hurts so much- and you're alone. All alone.

You wake up, screaming.

It's dark, the air too hot. You're sweating and shaking at the same time. Your lungs scream for air, you're breathless.

Where are- Where are you? It's dark. Too dark, you can't see a thing.

Outside there's some noise, it sounds like a broke radio: all you hear is an unsettling kshhh that comes in waves, but it's not as aggressive as you remember it.

It's hot. So hot, that your hair stick to your face and your bed feels disgustingly wet.

Suddenly, there's a scream.

No, not a scream - a bird. A bird that twitters this weird melody. You know that melody from... from... home.

It's your neighbor's bird. At this unholy hour.

You swallow, start to reach around.

Wood, something soft, and then metal. You tap the metal, and it gets brighter in your room.

Your room. With the yellow walls, the wooden furniture and the many photos and paintings on the wall.

You're at home.

At home.

You take another shaking breath.

It was just - just a nightmare.

But you're still unsettled.

Crosshair- he was dead, killed in too many different situations.

You swallow, your throat feels dry, and you reach for your glass of water on the nightstand.

You empty the glass.

It calms you down a bit.

But you're still shaking, so badly.

You know it was just some stupid nightmare, but - but you just couldn't calm down completely.

Is he fine?

Yeah, of course he is. He's just two rooms over, probably sleeping like a baby. Without any nightmares.

But, what if not?

Before you think twice about it, you're up and sneaking through the dark halls and only stop in front of his room.

Quietly, you knock and after getting a sleepy "what", you open the door quietly.

It creaks, and makes you jump.

"Sorry- I- I just- are you okay?" you ask him.

His room isn't as dark as yours - his curtains are open and a silver ray of moonshine lights up the small room.

He looks at you from his bed, buried beneath his blanket.

"Yeah, of course I'm okay. It's in the middle of the night, what did you expect?" he asks, not amused by you waking him up. You know how much he appreciates his sleep and at the same time he's just right - of course he's okay. It's in the middle of the night.

"Oh- I- s-sorry," you stammer and try to walk out backwards again, your eyes on his.

He looks at you contemplating, sitting up after a second.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks after a few seconds. Your hands were still shaking, and you are still just about to cry.

"Yeah- yeah I just- I had a nightmare, and you died and- I was alone and- Just wanted to make sure you're still here and okay," you stumble over your words, and you see how Crosshairs face softens.

"Yeah I'm fine. I- are you?" he says, and you could hear worry in his tone.

You swallow and try to say yes, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You're still scared shitless, and agitated. Nothing was fine.

Crosshair seems to notice as much.

"Do you want to talk? Come here, you can... Do you want to sleep here?" He then proposes and your breath hitches.

You know you like him a lot. Like a lot a lot. And sometimes you feel like he likes you too. In the same way, you like him. But then again - none of you never took it a step further. You are just friends that could be with each other a lot. It felt like the two of you were too shy to do anything about it. But this time, it feels like he just made such a big step at once. And you are ready to take him by the hand and walk that step with him.

Of course, he still could just mean it in a friendly way - but he didn't need to ask you if you wanted to stay the night.

He could just have asked you to talk to him and then send you off again.

But sleeping in his bed feels... intimate. It is special. And it definitely isn't something you'd do with just a friend. Not in Crosshair's world, at least. And not in yours, either.

You know that. And he knows it, too.

With a head full of thoughts, you almost forget to answer. Only when Crosshair's voice sounds across the room again, you remember that he indeed asked you to talk with him, and to be with him tonight.

But Crosshair's words are not what you expect: "Forget I asked," he says after a few minutes of just silence.

You swallow. "No- I- you'd want that? I- of course I want to," you whisper and take a step closer.

Crosshair just looks at you.

"If your offer still stands..." you add.

Crosshair takes a few moments, in which you fear he already changed his mind and instead of getting a step forward, you just took three steps back, but then he nods a single time.

You come closer and carefully sit next to him.

He lifts his blanket and lets you slip under, close to him.

You feel his warmth, his body. His chest raises with every breath he takes, and suddenly you're just so close.

"You just... died. So many times," you whisper and start to tell him about your disturbing nightmare. You feel how tears well up in your eyes again, but you pull yourself together and stop yourself from crying. He's fine.

Crosshair listens, and nods. When you finish, he's quiet for a few seconds.

"I- don't know what-" he begins to say, hesitating. Then he sighs quietly.

"I'm not the best at comforting others," he admits quietly. "But... Wrecker really appreciates hugs," he then says. You see some insecurity in his eyes, and you soon realize it's because he doesn't want to hurt you or say the wrong things. So instead, he just asks: "Do you want a hug, too?"

A small smile appears on your lips.

"If you're okay with that, I'd love to," you whisper back. You're not sure if you see it right, since it's dark and his face is just lit by the moonlight, but for a second you think his face becomes a little peachy.

"Wouldn't offer if I wasn't," he says and carefully lays an arm around you.

You sigh quietly, embracing him and his warmth, and put an arm across his stomach, too.

Together, you slide down and you nestle your head on his shoulder, drawing small circles around his stomach.

Even though the night started in such a horrible way, it's easy to find an upside about it all. You and Crosshair were far away from talking about your feelings for each other, and you sure as hell have a long road in front of you. But you were pretty sure you just took a big step on this road, and you are ready to gear up and take some more.

You fall asleep just moments later.

This time, you don't have any nightmares or other disturbances, and for the first time in a long, long time you feel well rested when you wake up. Still in Crosshair's arms.

[lifblogs]

Omega's Safe

@summer-of-bad-batch Week 12 Prompt: Nightmares Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 2226 Summary: Crosshair wakes from a nightmare to hear Omega sobbing, and he forces himself through his fear to go check on her. Hunter is already helping out. READ ON AO3

Crosshair woke from his nightmare to hear Omega sobbing. The aching fear gripping every muscle in his body, and eating away at his chest told him to lie still, to do nothing or else They would kill him. And probably torture him first too.

But wait, no! This was Omega. He had to move, had to go to her.

Crosshair bit back a cry as he rose, everything in his brain telling him he was going to die, but then… nothing and no one attacked.

He stumbled a bit when he got out of bed, everything so, so dark, even with the lights he’d now turned on. He was cold and clammy, shivering from cool sweat that had soaked into his pajamas.

Crosshair managed to get to Omega’s room, breathing hard, head aching, neck so tight he felt like any movement would surely break it.

And then he heard soft murmuring. Hunter.

“You’re safe,” Hunter told Omega. “I promise. You’re safe now.”

“Mm hmm.”

With a sigh, Crosshair leaned forward, pressing his head against the wall, listening to them.

Maybe he should leave. Hunter seemed to be handling it. But this was Omega. He could never leave her while she was in danger. In fact, his nightmares tonight had mainly consisted of her getting taken from him, of watching her get tortured by Hemlock, living his torture. Her screams still echoed in his mind, digging in deep.

Crosshair made his presence known with a gentle knock on the doorjamb, but Hunter didn’t seem very surprised.

Omega had jumped at his soft knock, and Crosshair’s mouth drew in a tight line from guilt from the guilt that struck him like a blow to the chest.

At first he averted his eyes, from Hunter, from Omega.

Blinking rapidly, trying to clear some unexpected tears, he met Hunter’s gaze for just a second, then his eyes landed on Omega. Her pajamas were askew, hair a mess from tossing and turning, surely, and her eyes were puffy and red. Tears still streaked down her face, chest still heaving with sobs, shoulders still shaking.

“Can I come in?” he asked, voice not wanting to come out, as if he’d been screaming for hours.

Hunter looked to Omega. It was her room. She had precedence here.

She whimpered as she nodded. In a rush Crosshair was over by her, kneeling by her bed, holding her tightly, a hand to the back of her head.

“It’s okay,” he told her. “It’s okay.”

He rocked her gently, hand running through her hair, untangling some of the bigger knots with as much care as possible.

He looked at Hunter, who gave him a grateful smile, even as his shoulders sagged with exhaustion.

Hunter rubbed Omega’s back. Her fists gripped Crosshair’s tunic so tightly they were shaking.

“It’s all right,” Hunter murmured. “We’re here. We’re both here.”

They held her in those few minutes in which she had to let out her pain, her fear. Crosshair wondered if she too had the awful ache in her chest, a dark ache that made everything dimmer, even… even her.

Omega eventually stopped crying, and pulled back from Crosshair.

He wiped her face for her, untangled just one more knot in her hair, and cupped her cheek.

“Are you okay now?” he asked.

She shrugged.

Crosshair would have shrugged at that question too. Even now fear tingled in his gut, at the back of his neck, and he had to let go of Omega to reposition himself so he wouldn’t have his back to the door.

Hunter watched the motion with keen interest, taking note of it. He didn’t say anything.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunter asked.

Omega shook her head.

“How about we get you back to bed, huh?” Hunter asked.

Before Omega could respond, Crosshair said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

Omega nodded in agreement.

“I’m… I’m too scared,” she admitted, still shaking, tense.

Hunter and Crosshair looked at each other over her head. Crosshair wasn’t sure what to do here.

“Why don’t we get you something to drink?” Hunter asked.

“I don’t want water,” Omega grumbled, sitting back.

“Good, because I’m not getting water.” Hunter rose, giving Crosshair space to get on the bed with Omega. “I’ll be right back. Cross, you want any?”

“Depends on what you’re making.”

Hunter gave him a secretive smile, didn’t say anything (so frustrating), and left.

“What are you doing up?” Omega asked Crosshair. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“I had a nightmare too,” he admitted.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Omega offered.

“No,” he snapped, which roughly translated to I hate talking about things. Omega leaned against him, not at all deterred by how harsh his voice usually came out. Crosshair sighed, and put an arm around her. “A lot of the times,” Crosshair started, mouth suddenly dry, “I find myself having to say where I am, that I’m not… there.”

“Me too.”

“Want to do it with me?”

“Feels ridiculous.”

“I am on Pabu,” Crosshair said, despite also feeling ridiculous. “I am safe.”

When he repeated it, Omega did it with him, though she grumbled it.

“Better?”

“No.”

He rubbed her shoulder, and sighed.

“Me either. But, we both tried. And whatever happens, I won’t leave you.”

Omega wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest.

Her breathing began to slow, become more even, and Crosshair noticed his did the same, that he wasn’t panting anymore.

There was a slight creak, and he stiffened, checking the door.

They’re here. They’re here to get me, to take me back. Hemlock—

Hunter arrived with two drinks in hand that were swirls of red and white inside their glasses.

Omega pulled back enough to take the drink offered to her, and she seemed to be admiring the red fruit on top.

Hunter held out the other one to Crosshair.

Well… his mouth was pretty dry.

Grudgingly, he accepted it, mumbling a thanks that only Hunter could hear, surely.

Hunter sat next to Crosshair, and Crosshair, despite loving Hunter, and loving that they were a family again, wanted to shift away from him.

Human contact besides Omega seemed like too much right now.

“What’s in this?” Omega asked, holding her drink up to the light, watching as it pierced the cloudy mixture, making it shine like gems were hidden inside.

Hunter explained the fruit juice and coconut cream that was blended together. In no time at all Omega was sipping it.

Since she seemed to like it, making noises of contentment, Crosshair tried a sip.

Oh gosh, that was good.

That was very good.

Wow.

Hunter was watching him. Crosshair forced a frown onto his face, and Hunter gave a soft laugh, shaking his head at it.

He sipped the delicious drink through a tight mouth, not wanting to admit to Hunter how delicious it was, but holy karking hell, he wanted to drink this every day till he died.

Crosshair munched on the fruit at the top, feeling the cool sweetness in his mouth. It brought him back to reality, even more than most things could. He wasn’t sure if he relaxed, if that dark ache left his chest, but his eyes weren’t constantly darting to the door, to Omega to see if she was still beside him, and safe.

She visibly relaxed as she enjoyed her drink, and Crosshair had more of his. The cream was incredibly soothing, and the cold a refreshing burst of reality.

Omega finished her drink so fast Crosshair was worried it’d come back up if she laid down. She was going to do so, and he grabbed her hand.

“Let’s go to the living room,” he suggested.

Omega yawned. “And do what?”

“Batcher’s there,” Hunter supplied. “She’s sleeping by the couch.”

That was enough for Omega. She stood, and leaned so far back to get the last drops of her drink that Crosshair worried she’d fall over. She stumbled a little, and Hunter managed to get up, and catch her, laughing. He took her glass.

“Come on.”

Crosshair went with them, carrying his drink, enjoying the refreshing cold as it seeped into his clammy hands (at least he’d feel like one temperature now, rather than two warring within).

It wasn’t cold in the house, but was filled with a comfortable warmth. Though, Crosshair knew if he stepped outside that humidity would hit him instantly. However, he was contemplating having some nice, hot caf.

Instead, he sat on the couch, still enjoying his drink.

Batcher had woken up at them entering, and now Omega was petting her, playing with her.

Hunter was in the kitchen, cleaning up a little, having used various measuring spoons and a cutting board for the drinks.

Crosshair set his down on the caf table for now.

“Coaster,” Hunter complained, back towards him.

“How do you even know—”

Crosshair couldn’t quite get out the last word because Hunter just pointed to his ears.

With a sigh, he grabbed a coaster, and then placed it under the drink.

“Better?” he hissed.

“Yes.”

Then Batcher leaned too far back in her roughhousing with Omega, and spilled the drink.

Crosshair was close to cursing, Omega was laughing, and Hunter already had a towel to clean it up… supposing Batcher left any to clean. She was lapping up the drink running along the caf table, and dripping onto the floor, to the rug beneath it.

“Oh, the rug,” Crosshair complained, watching the red juice stain their nice, cream rug.

Omega stopped giggling enough to pull Batcher back.

“Come on, girl, that’s not for you. That’s for humans. Hum-ans,” she sounded out.

“I don’t think she knows that word,” Crosshair said.

He rose to get another towel and help Hunter with the mess.

It was while he was dabbing at the rug, that he realized the front door wasn’t in his line of sight, and he… didn’t care. For now. He wasn’t afraid, waiting for an attack. He was thoroughly distracted by the mess Batcher had made, from being with his family. He hoped this was helping Omega as well.

Hunter yawned as they finished cleaning up, his eyes watering.

Crosshair nodded his head towards the hall. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”

“Same to you,” Hunter said. “Eventually. Please.”

“We’ll go to bed soon,” Omega told him. “I promise.”

“Good. You have to wake up for school in a few hours.”

Omega groaned, and buried her face in her hands. Crosshair couldn’t agree more. He hadn’t had school, but if he was up for a long time before training the day had always been brutal. Though, it was okay if Omega wasn’t up for going. Sleep was more important. Good sleep, not sleep riddled with nightmares.

Omega and Crosshair sat on the couch, Batcher lying across both their laps. They idly pet her, and she closed her eyes in contentment.

Omega yawned, which made Crosshair do so.

“I dreamed about you,” Omega said into the silence. “They—the Empire—they were hurting you, using you to make me turn myself over. Crosshair, it was horrible. It was so violent. And—and I can’t get it out of my head. Sure, I don’t feel as… afraid, but it’s like it was real, like you were actually dying in front of me.”

“I dreamed about you too,” he admitted. “You… took my place in Hemlock’s CX experiments.”

They hugged each other in the silence that followed.

Crosshair was aware of Omega slowly drifting off, leaning more and more against him, body going limp. She was getting big, but after getting Batcher off of them, Crosshair still carried her to bed.

He left a small light on so she wouldn’t awake in darkness, feeling like she was in danger. He left her door cracked too, so she could feel like there was an escape if she needed it and woke up in a panic.

It was hard turning from her sleeping form in her bed, hard knowing she very well could have more nightmares. He finally managed, and as he was heading to his room, Hunter (wasn’t he supposed to be asleep?) leaned out of his doorway to say, “Thank you. For helping her.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“Crosshair, just let me thank you.”

He sighed. Then gave a small grin. “No.”

Hunter chuckled.

Crosshair turned away, opening his door, about to head into his room. But he turned around, seeing Hunter disappear into his own room.

“Hunter,” he called softly.

His brother turned back. “Hmm?”

“Thank you for helping me too.”

Knowing Crosshair was a private individual and that thanking anyone for anything was difficult, Hunter didn’t say a word, just gave a nod.

Crosshair went back into his room, eyes stinging from exhaustion, and collapsed onto his bed. 

He didn’t feel safe enough to turn his lamp off, but he felt a little better as he started to drift off. He was on Pabu. He was safe. His family was here to help him.

Crosshair had more nightmares, but they didn’t leave him feeling like he was going to die.

I’m on Pabu. I’m with my family. I’m safe.

Omega’s safe.

Still, he went to check on her, and he smiled at the sight of his daughter sleeping soundly.

Omega’s safe.

[kybercrystals94]

Nightmares and Demons

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Prompts -> Bonus Alternate Prompt: Light in the Darkness -> Week 12: Nightmares & Radio Silence -> Week 13: "Stop Touching Me!" // "I'm not touching you!"

Rated: T | Words: 1443 Author's Note: This is a roundabout sequel to my Febuwhump 2024 story Poisoned.

“Remember, remember, remember…” Crosshair murmurs through gritted, gnashing teeth. He presses the heels of his hands into his temples, fingernails digging into his scalp. “...remember, remember…” A sob. “...please, remember…” 

The girl came again. She knows his name. Speaks with a familiarity he craves. She tells him they are coming. Their brothers. Their brothers are coming. It is only a matter of time. He believes her. He has to believe her. If he doesn’t, he has nothing. Nothing but the poison that the Empire has leached into him. Needles and torture and endless, endless pain. 

Her promise, void and empty as it is, is like a light in the inky, consuming darkness. A fragile, flickering flame on the end of a match. It burns close to his finger tips, but he won’t let it go. 

“What have they done to you, Crosshair?” the girl asks when she comes. 

Crosshair tries to ignore her, tries to remember. Their brothers. Her promise. They’re coming. 

“...remember, remember, remember…” 

If he falls asleep, he doesn’t remember. He never remembers. 

He only feels the ghosts of memories, transparent and impossible to grasp in desperate fists. They brush past him, leaving lingering anguish in their wake. They never comfort, only torment and haunt him. 

When Crosshair wakes, it is silence that greets him. Not the girl. Not their brothers. 

Crosshair stands and looks out the grate of his cell. The other cell doors are swung open while his remains firmly latched. Why didn’t the guards take him too? Have they finally finished their experiments? Has he finally outlived his usefulness to the Empire? But that isn’t right. Something is wrong. 

Panic pricks his skin, stutters his heartbeat, quickens his panting breaths. 

He doesn’t understand. He should be grateful he is being left alone. 

He doesn’t want to be alone. He shouldn’t be alone. 

“...we don’t leave our own behind…”

“...we would’ve taken you back…”

“...it is his nature…” 

“...you're my brother too…”

The ghosts press in. Memories darkened with poison, glimpses of clarity in a clouded mind. He shouldn’t be alone. He doesn’t want to be alone. Please, don’t leave me alone! 

Crosshair stumbles back from the grated door. Nearly falls. “Guard?” he calls out. Don’t call out. Don’t draw attention. “Guard!” His voice pitches in his throat, a near scream.

A guard comes. He stands at the grate, looking in through a lifeless, broken visor. His blaster hangs loosely from one gloved hand. His armor is stained with blood and scorch marks. “You’re still here,” the guard says incredulously, voice thin and weak. 

Crosshair only stares back. 

The guard tips his head. “Funny. I didn’t think they’d leave one of their own behind.” 

“Behind?” Crosshair whispers. 

The guard opens the door. Steps toward him. “They came for the girl, they came for the others…but they didn’t come for you.” 

Crosshair thinks his lungs turn to stone. He can’t breathe, can’t draw in a breath, can’t speak a word. The guard takes another step. He lifts his blaster. “The Empire doesn’t need a singular, damaged clone. Its own kind don’t even want it. Why would we?” 

The girl wouldn’t leave him behind. Their brothers wouldn’t leave him behind. She promised they would come. For her. For them. They wouldn’t leave him behind. 

But they did. 

“Don’t,” Crosshair rasps out. He can’t move. His body paralyzed with something. Fear? Resignation? 

The muzzle of the blaster gouges into this chest. He feels its cold heat through the thin cloth of his shirt, over the pounding throb of his heart.  

Silence. 

And in the silence, the click of a trigger. 

***

Crosshair chokes on a frantic gasp of breath, the inhale burning down a raw throat. He tries to kick out of the blankets tangled around his limbs, but they hold fast, binding him to the horrifying remnants of the nightmare. Crying out, his frantic movements become panicked and uncoordinated until he falls with a heavy crash from his bed to the cold, unforgiving floor. 

The main light of his room clicks on.

The click of a trigger. 

The darkness is banished in an instant, but the terror lingers still. He thrashes, one hand trying to disentangle himself, the other an empty wrist useless to do anything. 

“Hey, hey,” a voice says, “Cross, it’s okay. It’s alright. It’s just a nightmare.” 

“Stop touching me!” Crosshair cries. He isn’t talking to the voice. He’s talking to the endless fabric that confines his movements, his freedom…

“I’m not touching you,” the voice says, sounding confused. “Hold still, let me help you. I’ll help you, Cross…just…” 

Hands, steady and sure, swiftly free Crosshair from the folds of blankets. He is too relieved to feel ashamed yet. Crosshair simply sits, skin burning with cold adrenaline, nightclothes damp with sweat. His breathing is short and quick. He needs to calm down before he passes out. He knows that, but his body doesn’t care. His body doesn’t listen to reason. His mind can barely comprehend it itself. 

An arm wraps around him. “Easy, easy. It was a nightmare. Breathe. Just focus on your breathing. Okay? Nothing else.” Loud, exaggerated breaths guide him to even out his own breathing. It feels like long, shivering hours before his mind clears enough to recognize Hunter at his side on the floor. 

Embarrassment readily takes hold as adrenaline seeps out, but Crosshair can’t bring himself to pull away. Not yet. He closes his eyes, focuses on his breathing. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunter asks.

Crosshair bites back the reflexive refusal. He lets the question settle instead, unanswered and expectant. 

Hunter doesn’t ask again, doesn’t move away. 

Omega talks about her nightmares, sometimes. Crosshair hasn’t tried to listen, but when the house is silent, and the only sound is the trembling voice of their little sister, confessing the demons that plague her sleep, it is hard not to. However, it seems to help her. The lies of the darkness cowering away in the light of the truth when Hunter tells her she’s safe now, Hemlock isn’t coming back, the Empire is no longer searching…she’s safe, she’s loved, she’s home…

Their home. 

“...it was about Tantiss,” Crosshair murmurs, his voice unsteady. 

Hunter hums. 

“I couldn’t remember anyone,” Crosshair continues, “The drugs they’d used clouded them. Omega was there, but I couldn’t remember her name. She told me our brothers were coming. They were coming for us…but I couldn’t remember who our brothers were.” 

Hunter’s grip tightens just a little, pulling him closer. 

Crosshair shudders against him. He has to finish or he never will. “In the nightmare, I woke up and everyone was gone. The other cells were open, all open except for mine. A guard came to my cell. He looked like he’d been in a firefight.” His throat constricts, but he can’t stop now. Even if he wanted to. The words rush out of him. “He said…he said that I’d been left behind. My brothers had come, but not for me. He said that I was no longer useful, that a solitary clone that wasn’t even wanted by its own kind was worthless…and then he shot me through the heart.” 

Shame washes over him as he exposes the dark corners of his mind to his brother. Thoughts he’s buried deep that claw their way out of the filth with sharp claws when he’s most vulnerable. He feels raw and unfortified, shivering on the floor of his bedroom. But at the same time, he feels protected. When his own strength failed him, Hunter stepped in, offering his own in the dark of night when demons both born and inflicted rushed in to torment. 

Hunter does not speak for a long time, but the silence isn’t empty. It is companionable. Crosshair has missed companionable silence. It is hard to come by. 

“I know that you know the truth,” Hunter says at last. “But sometimes it helps to hear it.” 

Crosshair nods. He is familiar with these words. He’s heard Hunter speak them to Omega many dark nights. 

“The truth is,” Hunter continues softly, rough voice low, “You and Omega escaped Tantiss together. You saved each other, and found us again. The truth is, no matter what the Empire thinks of us, you are our brother, and we love you.” 

Crosshair swallows back the emotions that threaten to betray him. 

“The truth is, that we are safe,” Hunter goes on, “and we’re together now. The truth is, you’ll never be alone again. Not if we have anything to say about it.” 

Crosshair sinks into the one armed embrace of his brother. 

He’s safe. 

He’s loved. 

He’s home.

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99

[tlmtwelve]

Nightmares

Week 12 Prompt: @summer-of-bad-batch

[summer-of-bad-batch]

Week 12 Prompt Drop!!

Main Prompt: Nightmares

Alternate Prompt: Radio Silence

Second to last prompt drop, and I’m not okay 😭 It feels like the challenge just started, and here we are approaching the end…gah!!

This week’s tags:

#summerofbadbatch2024 #week12 #nightmares #radio silence

[happiestmanga]

Original Content Writing #1 - Week 12

Post a tip or trick you are offering in your guide that is useful to all of us!

Too much going on in your videos is overstimulating and likely to turn viewers away.

[convicthammerfan42]

Feedback

So this is by no means my final set up for it, and I will elaborate better if need be. I was wondering if a way to keep things short and sweet is to use bullet points such as this that quickly show what to pay attention too without being lengthy descriptions that could bore or confuse.

[nicospaintinfall24]

Group activity 11/13- Color swatches

We had fun with this activity with @reannab-painting1 and @hollowtomato6 . We all would arrange and experiment with the different colors. We chose these 12 colors and first lined them up according to Tonal Value- lightest to darkest and for the most part we did okay.

👇Tonal Value Arangement lightest to darkest

We then arranged the color swatches according to temperature. It was interesting to try and differentiate warm and cool especially with some of the darker colors.

👇Temperature- Warm and Cool

And finally, we separated these swatches by creating that nice and defined line against the colors. We had fun with this activity! We all would take turns moving the swatches and i think it gives us a better idea regarding how we can see color

👇Boundaries

🤗 Bye!!!

[bamchugh]

This is a slide from my H2WG. This slide is about how to create a Branding kit. This slide uses The Try Guys as an example. Does this make sense? Do I need to add anything that would enhance its clarity?

[lmacdougall]

Original Content Writing 3 - Week 12

Post an image of an element of your How to Write Guide that needs input from your peers.

On my guide, I ended up using a display font for the headings of the different sections of content, and I used the text bubbles for the other sections. I did this to show the difference between the sections and also to add more visual interest to the guide in general. Do the two different heading types make sense, or is it confusing to have both of them?

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

R.O.U.S.'s

@summer-of-bad-batch week 12 prompt 'Nightmares' (yeah my second fic for the same prompt I know ;)

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Omega, Hunter, Tech, Echo, Wrecker, Stardust the Space Hamster Set after Season 2 episode 'Metamorphosis' Word Count: ~540 Read Here on AO3

Featuring Stardust the Space Hamster, as created by the fabulous @kybercrystals94 - I promised you I'd write Stardust fic for the event, didn't I? :P

Synopsis: After the encounter with the Zillo Beast, Omega has a nightmare...

A shrill scream rent the air, reverberating off the metal walls of the Marauder. It had all four clones falling out of their seats and fighting each other in their haste to reach the gunner's mount.

"Omega? What is it?"

Hunter's voice was tight with alarm as he all but vaulted up the ladder. Tech crowded behind him until he too was perched on the edge of the platform, and Echo and Wrecker pressed close at the bottom.

Omega was crying now, great hiccoughing sobs accompanied by huge tears pealing down her cheeks.

“Hunter!” she gasped with relief, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. “You’re okay!”

“We are all well, Omega,” said Tech with clipped concern, as Hunter returned Omega’s embrace and shot his brother an alarmed look over the top of her shaking shoulder. “What is the matter?”

“Tech!” Now it was his turn for Omega to burrow into his chest, as he tensed and awkwardly encircled her with one arm, patting her shoulder.

“There, there,” he said, tilting his head down to try and peer into Omega’s tear-streaked face. “Can you tell us what woke you?”

“It’s Stardust,” said Omega unexpectedly, her voice breaking on a sob.

“Stardust is fine too,” Echo reassured her from his position at the bottom of the gunner’s mount.

“I had a bad dream,” Omega snuffled, pulling back from Tech and rubbing at her tear-streaked cheeks. “Stardust grew enormous. Her cage broke, and she kept growing and growing. She was too big for the Marauder! And then…” Another burbling sob escaped her as her face crumpled into fresh tears. “And then she ate you!”

Wrecker thumped Tech in the thigh, so hard that Tech yelped.

“Who told her that the Zillo ate the crew?” said Wrecker with an accusatory eye roll. Tech merely returned the look with a petulant frown, whilst Hunter wrapped his arms around Omega again.

“We’re all okay,” he said gruffly, jostling her shoulders a little to try and cheer her up. “Stardust is fine… and she’ll still fit in the palm of your hand!”

“She ate you until you were bones!” said Omega with a fresh wail.

The four brothers glanced at each other helplessly, with a shared round of shrugs.

“I’m going to get the chocolate powder,” declared Echo, turning towards the galley. “Wrecker, get the mugs.”

Omega sniffed and her sobs died away to hiccups at the promise of hot chocolate, resting her cheek on Hunter’s shoulder as his hand moved in soothing circles on her back.

Tech adjusted his goggles.

“I would like to reassure you, Omega, that it was the Zillo’s unique species characteristics that let it grow large enough to consume human prey. It is quite impossible for the same thing to happen with a criceto.”

Hunter kicked out with one leg, booted foot finding Tech’s other thigh and sending him dropping over the edge of the ladder, where he landed lightly on his feet. Then he grabbed Lula, thrusting her into Omega’s hands.

“C’mon, kid,” he said with a smile, lifting her close to her chest and cradling her like she was a much smaller child than she was. “Hot chocolate after a nightmare? Who could say no to that.”

This fic most definitely inspired by real life events... I cannot tell you how unprepared I was to round the corner whilst in town on my lunch break the other day to find this...

6ft tall hamster roaming the streets of the city was not on my bingo card. And I knew straight away what to write for my long-awaited Summer of Bad Batch Stardust fic 😂

Also inspired by the real nightmare my kid had when they were about 7, where a T-rex ate us until we were bones, and then ate us again. All I could hear in my head whilst I was writing this fic was Omega's little voice saying "It ate the crew?!" 😂

[neyswxrld]

never the same

POV Hunter, no pairing

summary: While Omega is on a mission, Hunter realises that it never will be like the good old times again.

warnings: a lot of nostalgia

words: ~1410

a/n: hello there! this is it. the final fic for @summer-of-bad-batch. with that i fulfilled all 28 of the offered prompts, and i'm actually very proud of myself for that. this event definitely was one of my favorite adventures this year, and it definitely motivated me to write a lot more. thanks for hosting this! prompts: radio silence and "yeah, kid, we're fine."

MASTERLIST

SUMMER OF BAD BATCH MASTERLIST

"Still nothin'?" is the first thing Wrecker asks when he comes down the stairs in the morning.

He looks still a little rough from sleep, his shirt is wrinkled and his short, gray beard still manages to stand up in different directions.

A grin appears on Hunter's lips. The familiar sight of his brother in the mornings isn't anything he'd ever like to miss. Especially since he's finally able to sleep in a bed that is big and comfortable enough for the giant.

"Good morning to you, too," Hunter smiles and eats one of the delicious cookies Crosshair brought over a day ago. He'd never thought the former sniper would find a liking in baking sweet stuff, but here they are, and he's sure it's not the last reason his tummy got so soft in the last years.

But he wouldn't complain: Crosshair's food is tasty and he actually likes the sight of himself in the mirror like that.

"Mornin'..." Wrecker muffles and starts to brew himself some tea, looking at Hunter expectantly.

"No, didn't hear of them. But you know how it is - radio silence means no com chatter," Hunter unnecessarily explains.

Wrecker just rolls his eyes, but also picks up a cookie, already sighing at the taste before he even put it into his mouth.

"I know, I'm just worried," he admits, after chewing and swallowing down.

Oh, how familiar Hunter was with this feeling, too.

He's always worried about Omega. She'll forever be his baby sister who needs some kind of protection, but at the same time, he also knows he just can't always provide it for her.

Besides, she's all grown up now. He taught her everything he could. She can protect herself just fine.

"What do you think, how long will it be this time until we hear from her again?" Wrecker asks and Hunter just shrugs his shoulders. "Last time it was a week, before that a few hours. Could be anything between that and even longer," Hunter says, as if they haven't had that conversation several times now.

Wrecker sighs.

"It's just so... quiet without her. Boring," the big clone says, and a shadow of sadness crosses his face.

Hunter knew. He knew so well. First Crosshair moved out. He and his partner found a beautiful little home a few houses over, and even though Hunter was genuinely happy for his youngest brother, he already recognized how much more quiet the house was. How empty his place at the table was.

Then Omega tried to just sneak away a few years later. He knew her reasons, but he was still glad he could properly say goodbye to her.

And even though Crosshair was just a few houses over, and even though Omega sometimes visited and called in regularly, the house just felt empty, quiet, and boring.

He was so glad Wrecker was still by his side, even though he sometimes asked himself if his brother really was happy with their current situation.

But every time he asked him, Wrecker immediately got defensive and almost scared of Hunter leaving him, so he just kept that question for himself.

If Wrecker was ready or wanted to move on, he would.

"What's your plan for today?" Hunter asks him, and Wrecker thinks for a few seconds, before answering.

"I'll go and help Phee with some crates she has on her ship. She requested my help specifically," Wrecker grins and Hunter raises his eyebrows. Just like everyone's enhancements, Wrecker's also faded over the time. Of course, he is still a lot stronger than the average person, but Hunter knows his brother and his habit of overestimating himself too well.

At the same time, he knows Phee, and he immediately is sure she'll look after his brother, too. If he's being honest, he thinks she already packed the crates in a way that they aren't as heavy as they used to be. He's sure she could probably transport them herself, and just wants to make Wrecker happy.

"Sounds good. I'll probably go and help Shep. Some new arrivals landed tonight, and they need to get settled down," Hunter nods, taking a bite of another cookie.

"You remember today is Batch day?" Hunter asks, and Wrecker nods excitedly.

It's a weekly occasion, that they'll meet at the beach, in a bar, a restaurant or their houses and catch up with each other and spend time together.

Even though the three of them see each other often enough, they still decided to spare this one evening during the week to indulge in nostalgia and make it feel just like the old times.

They'd never miss the day, not for anything in this galaxy.

Wrecker and Hunter complete their morning routine, say goodbye to each other and try to fulfill their tasks as best as they could.

Hunter manages to help settle down about three new villagers. One of them was an elderly lady who smelled weirdly like dried fruit and old books, a man about his age with a small baby in his arms who cried the whole time, and a young woman, about thirty years old, who smiled at him weirdly, and said goodbye with a wink.

The day is over faster than he thinks and soon he's sitting in the living room of his and Wrecker's house. The latter one is stretched out over the couch, complaining about his aching back, and Crosshair is sitting next to them, irritating Wrecker even more.

Yeah, just like old times, he thinks and smiles to himself. Almost, at least.

It's in exact that moment, that his comm beeps. First one, then two times. Immediately, the other two stop bickering, and looking at Hunter expectantly.

When he takes out the small device and checks the callers ID, a small smile appears on his lips.

"It's Omega," he announces and Wrecker groans, relieved: "Finally!"

Hunter opens the com channel, while he and Crosshair try to move Wrecker upwards to a sitting position.

Well, it wouldn't be Wrecker if he was easy, right?

He starts laughing and just takes Crosshair and Hunter, pulling them down on him, pulling them close and huddles them close to each of his side.

"Oh, maker, are you okay?" Omega asks from Hunter's com, surely able to just see blurry forms and colors, due to Wrecker's unpredictable actions.

"Yeah, kid, we’re fine," Hunter says when they're finally able to look into her sister's face again. Omega jokingly rolls her eyes at his little "nickname" for her, but doesn't say anything about it. She's always going to be his kid in his heart, and she knows it.

"Oh, Omega! I missed ya!" Wrecker immediately exclaims and grins from ear to ear, his back pain already forgotten.

"I miss you, too," the young woman starts to smile and Hunter's heart warms just a little at that.

It's been so long since she's been here with them already.

"How was the mission?" Crosshair asks next, and Omega immediately starts talking about what they did and how they managed to pull some secret data out of an even more secret outpost and that most of them made it out unharmed.

When they each catch themselves up on what's going on and what happens around them on Pabu and in the Rebellion, all of them always have a huge smile on their face.

And even though it almost feels like the old times again, Hunter realizes one thing in this exact moment:

It doesn't matter how hard they try to make it work like the old times again. The bitter truth is - they can't. It will never be the same again. Too much happened, too much time passed, and too many people weren't here by their side anymore, who definitely deserved to be.

But what they can do is try to make it all worth it.

Live their lives how they're supposed to do. Be proud of what they've overcome and of what they figured out for themselves.

Be proud about what they did and what they made of it.

They still can enjoy the moments they have with each other and make the best of it.

Instead of trying to make old times again, they should start to look forward to the new ones.

There's still so much waiting for him, for them, and it would be a shame to miss out on that.

Even though it won't ever be the same again, it doesn't mean it's bad at all.

TAGLIST

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

[lifblogs]

Alive

@summer-of-bad-batch Week 12 Alt. Prompt: Radio Silence Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 2025 Summary: After Eriadu, Echo leaves messages on Tech's comm channel, feeling like he's talking to his brother again. READ ON AO3

“Hey… Tech,” Echo said into the comm. “It’s been a few rotations since… well, you know.”

He looked around, suddenly feeling ridiculous now that his voice was coming out of him. Night had swiftly fallen, and the lights of the landing pad he currently sat on, legs dangling over the side, were all that lit it. A ship was there—one of Rex’s ships.

Echo… missed the Marauder, but he knew he could help more from here. And… after so much loss, he couldn’t… well, he couldn’t handle it at all. It was like his foundation he’d built with his new family had been ripped right out from under him, and he couldn’t stay, not without anything to stand on.

Hunter’s face had been carved with pained, but he had said he knew Echo had to do this, and also mentioned he could do more work to search for Omega, for Tantiss, than he could if they stayed together.

Wrecker had hugged him so tightly he had worried an implant was going to embed deeper into him, or the controls on his legs would shatter.

Wrecker wasn’t angry, like Hunter was to some degree. He was sad. They all were.

It was more than that though.

The massive hole in Echo’s chest that he’d worked on filling and healing with his family, now made it so any reminders of them was too much. Hunter was too much. Wrecker was too much. Because around them it was easy to see who wasn’t there.

With Rex and Howzer and the boys, there was none of that, really. Though, every time he looked at Rex he thought of Fives.

No Fives.

Now no Tech, and no… no Omega.

“I don’t know if anyone’s told you,” he went on, “but… Omega was taken. By—by Hemlock. I know that’s not what you want to hear, maybe I shouldn’t even be telling you since we failed to find Tantiss, and save Crosshair, but…

“I don’t know what to do, Tech,” he went on, voice rough, tight. Tears welled in his eyes, and he let them, let his world blur around him.

“I feel so lost,” he admitted. “I… I remember when I first saw you. You were the first person I’d seen since… Anyway, I was scared. I was, but when I saw you, seeing you knew exactly what you were doing to save me, I wasn’t scared anymore. I didn’t even know you yet, and I trusted you. You were so human, so real. It was like… It was like…” Echo found himself at a loss for words, not sure how to describe what it had felt to see a human again, to see someone saving him, not torturing him, not using him, but saving him.

“Well, imagine being afraid, more afraid than you’ve ever been, and then seeing human eyes, eyes you almost recognize. I felt… home. You did that for me, Tech. And when you unhooked me, when you carried me… I decided if I ever got through that—and of course I did because I had you—that I would carry you too.

“Maybe not in a real sense—unless it was needed—but in a sense that I’d be there for you.”

Tears fell, throat so tight he barely got his next words out: “That I’d save you.”

Silence seemed to swallow him, even amongst the night noises of the creatures in the jungle.

“And I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

Echo switched off the comm, and placed it against his forehead, hunching in on himself, sobbing.

He didn’t know how long he was out there—maybe hours—but that was how Rex found him.

He didn’t say anything, just put a hand on his shoulder, and it was enough.

“Hey, Tech,” Echo said from the cockpit of one of Rex’s ships. He wasn’t exactly flying it given the one hand situation, but he was keeping an eye on things while everyone else rested. The comm chanel was still live, but as usual there was nothing on the other end. Radio silence. Still— “Sorry it’s bee awhile,” he said. “Been pretty busy, looking for Tantiss, for Omega. I miss her.”

He sighed. “I miss you. I wish you could come home to us, you know? I knew what Plan Ninety-Nine was. Hunter had briefed me on it, but I never thought…”

His words cut off, a million thoughts clouding the space in his head. There was a fierce ache in his chest, and fear, betrayal, greater than he’d ever known, was trying to rip him apart.

He was a traitor to his friend, his family, because…

“Sometimes I hate you for it,” he finally got out, words tight, crawling out of the barbed wire in his chest, the electric frisson that had tried to keep it locked in tight.

And now that the words had been said, they hurt.

Echo nearly choked on a gasp, and he put his hand to his chest, curled in a fist. He hunched in over it, shaking, tears falling freely down his face, sobs catching in his chest, a pained growl leaving him.

“You left us,” he said. “You left us. What are we supposed to do with that? You made sure we didn’t all die, but… you didn’t put yourself into those calculations. You died. Did you even care? Did you think you mattered, or was it just us? We cared about you too, you know! We cared about— We still do.

“Omega got hurt,” he went on. “We all did. And then… well, without you… Hemlock took her. I know—I know I already told you that, but you weren’t there. You weren’t there, Tech! What am I supposed to do now? You were the first person I saw. The first person! And now…”

Echo sighed. “Whatever.” He switched off the comm.

“Tech, you’re never gonna believe this,” Echo said, grinning wide, the hole in his chest smaller for once, filled in with brilliant light. He was tweaking the energy crossbow he was planning on giving to Omega as soon as he saw her. “Omega’s back. She escaped, and guess who was with her? Crosshair. I know! She really did it. She saved herself. She saved him.

“I haven’t seen her yet, but Hunter did warn me she looks a bit older. I know that when I do see her I’ll think about the time I missed with her, and I know it’ll hurt, but it’s okay because she’s back. She’s safe now.

“Crosshair’s safe now,” he added. “Heard he’s as thorny as ever.” Echo grinned thinking of it, and thinking of Crosshair’s grudging acceptance of Echo which had turned into a bond with trust, that trust stronger with all the hard edges. “But she did it, Tech. She finished your mission! I know there’s still the Empire, that Tantiss is still out there, and Hemlock is, but I just thought I’d let you know. For once in almost six months, I’m finally happy. And I think… I think you would be too.”

Echo couldn’t sleep, as usual, and he was lying around in his rack, Gregor snoring beneath him.

With a deep sigh, he pulled out his comlink, dialing it to the frequency that never responded, and never would again.

“Hi, Tech. It’s me. Echo.” His words seemed too loud, and he rolled out of his rack, landing neatly on the deck.

He made his way over to the lounge that was on this massive ship, and sat back in the booth by the table. Only the ship’s hum met him now, the lights dim.

“I don’t know why I’m still doing this,” he admitted. “I know you’re… you’re gone. But I have so much to tell you, so much to say. It’s still weird not having you here. I always turn around thinking I’ll see you, I find my eyes searching every room I enter, and sometimes when I haven’t slept for days I imagine I see you out of the corner of my eye, coming to tell me some crazy fact. And I’d listen. Oh, I’d listen. What I wouldn’t give to have you telling me about some animal or language right about now. You could tell me about the history of the comlink and I’d listen. I’d listen to you talk about the galaxy, about other life-forms, about what you ate for breakfast. About everything.”

Echo had to pause, all choked up.

He didn’t know why he kept doing this to himself, kept tearing at his open wound instead of letting it heal.

But if it healed would he forget? Would he forget all the wonders that had made Tech such an amazing life-form? Would he forget his smile, his startled laugh when he actually found a joke funny, the sound of his voice, the way he spoke, his eyes? Would he forget it all?

Echo knew that wasn’t quite how it worked, and yet he kept doing this, kept letting himself bleed.

He had half a mind to let himself bleed until the Empire was nothing but dust.

“I’m sorry.”

He switched the comm off, and let the silence invade all the dark spaces in his mind, let it play with the nightmares.

Echo leaned back, looking up at the deck above him, not taking in any of the details, not even the color.

Everything was drab, and gray, and dark. Cold, and silent. So cold, like when he had been nothing but a tool for the Separatists.

Echo didn’t welcome it, but it was there. Without Tech, it crept in every day, and maybe would until Echo was gone too.

“I’m sorry to tell you this,” Echo said, “but the Empire found Pabu. I wasn’t there. I’m actually on my way to pick up the others now, but I thought you should know. Phee is safe. But Omega—she gave herself up to save everyone.

“I’d be proud if… if it didn’t hurt so much. I know you’d be proud. In a way, I think she learned it from you—sacrifice. You meant so much to her, to me, to everyone. So I thought I’d let you know, we’re heading to Tantiss. We’re destroying that place, and we will not stop until Omega is free, until the clones are free. I just wish you could stand by my side after we win.

“Hell, sorry for all the bravado. I’m… scared. I could always tell you when I was afraid. I think sometimes you’d find it silly, but then you’d realize it wasn’t silly to me, that it was real. And talking to you about it—it was like you unhooking me from that machine all over again, saving me.

“I’d save you if I could. I would have. But now all I can do is save her.”

Echo swallowed hard, looking out at the blue-white of hyperspace streaking past.

“Tech… thank you.”

Echo switched the comm off, telling himself this was the last time. If he could save Omega—and he would—he’d let his wound heal. Maybe finally it could heal.

Echo had abandoned his armor, his comm, feeling like he was losing part of himself for this, giving himself up to save Omega, so he never got the message that came through as he landed at Tantiss. He would know, would learn who this was, would even have help from him as he turned on the other CXs, but he never heard the high, frightened voice that said, “Echo, it’s me. It’s Tech. I don’t know how, but… I’m alive.”

And with the Marauder in ruins, no one else in Clone Force 99 heard that voice. If they had Crosshair wouldn’t have been so afraid, wouldn’t have thought Clone Force 99 had died, after all; Wrecker wouldn’t have lied, wouldn’t have pushed himself too hard; Hunter wouldn’t have been ready to give up all he was for his little girl, would have known he wasn’t alone. They would have been a family in that tense moment in the jungle, and would have known that Clone Force 99 was very. Much. Alive.

[lefthandeddrummer]

Original Content Writing (Week 12 Post 3)

post an image of an element of your How to Write Guide that needs input from your peers. Tweet an image AND request the feedback you want.

Below is the title slide of my How To Write Guide presentation. I was hoping to get feedback on the tagline that I have below the title. I'm thinking I can probably write something more engaging for the content creator audience but I was having trouble thinking of other possibilities. If anyone has ideas or suggestions please share them! Also if you think what I already have is good, then let me know! Thanks!

[tlmtwelve]

When a bad nightmare keeps Gonky awake, he'll silently patrol the Marauder, keeping watch over his family.

Week 12 Prompt (additional sketch): @summer-of-bad-batch