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staycalmandhugaclone · 2 years

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If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved - Echo! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!

Febuwhump Day 8

Panic – Echo - A quiet discussion between Doc and Hunter is delayed when Echo has a nightmare. Doc tries to ease him through it, resulting in a fun bit of shared taunts with Crosshair the following morning.

Warnings: Nightmare-induced panic attack. Non-intimate bed sharing. Fictional curses (does that need a warning?), sexual innuendo

WC: 2633

The air was beginning to grow heavy with the staleness of long-distance travel, the chill having long since settled into my joints from diverting power throughout the ship to grant just a fraction more speed to already straining engines. There was no pressing need to push the ship like this, but the Batch had a reputation of reckless efficiency to maintain. Most of the others had settled down, but I couldn’t flip my sleep cycle with the ease Wrecker’s deep snoring flaunted.

Letting out a slow sigh, I slipped from the medbay cot – it was far from comfortable, but the limited sleeping quarters in the transport granted few options. Wrapping the gray blanket snugly around my shoulders, I tread quietly down the center isle, eyes wandering fondly over the sleeping figures: Tech’s ankles were crossed, arm draping over his chest where it had clearly landed when he’d fallen asleep, datapad still glowing from beneath his loose grip. Echo lay slightly on his side in his hammock, scomp draping over his waist, lips just parted in rhythmic breathes. Crosshair was nestled against the very corner of his bed, back flush against the wall, and Wrecker was sprawled out on his stomach, one arm curled beneath his head while the other hung thoughtlessly over the edge, a clear line of drool already glistening at the corner of his mouth and soaking into his pillow.

I wasn’t surprised to see Hunter’s rack untouched, certain I’d find him monitoring the automated systems as an excuse to appreciate the rare, relative quiet of space travel. Snatching his meticulously folded blanket thoughtlessly as I crept past the sleeping soldiers, I made my way unhurried toward the cockpit.

“You should be asleep.” He chided, but there was no heat in his calm voice as I descended the ladder.

“You’re one to talk.” I shot back with a small smile. He was still facing forward, legs stretched leisurely out before him as he leaned back in the blocky pilot’s chair, elbow just visible on the arm rest. Without waiting for him to turn toward me, I snapped his blanket out, practically throwing it over him. He startled only slightly at the sudden movement, but quickly stilled, eyebrow cocking as he shot me a sideways glance.

“Doc… you realize we were created for this, right?” Paying no mine to his gentle mocking, I sat heavily in the copilot’s chair, knees tucking against my chest to wrap my own blanket more snugly around me.

“Mmhmm.” I merely hummed in response, earning a quiet chuckle, but my lips pulled into a small smile as he repositioned the thick fabric slightly if only to humor me.

“Do you ever think about what’s after this?” I felt his gaze turn more pointedly toward me as the quiet words fluttered over my lips, eyes staring blindly at the dancing glow of hyperspace before us. Allowing my question to settle back into the silence, he finally let out a small huff before leaning into the worn padding once more.

“Pretty sure there’ll always be a demand for medics, so I doubt you have much need to worry.” He offered. Only then did I finally turn to face him, brows just hinting at a frown.

“I don’t mean for me, Hunter.” I stated, waiting him out until he finally let his head fall, chin just resting against his chest, and I loathed that troubled worry that settled heavily over the powerful features of his face.

“Don’t know.” He finally answered. “Clones don’t exactly have a place out there that doesn’t involve a battlefield.” My eyes followed the absent motion of his hand as he waved vaguely toward the viewport.

“Yet.” I offered quietly. He didn’t humor me with even the echo of a smirk, jaw shifting stiffly forward. “What if you could choose?” I pressed, question falling lightly from a kind smile. “Say we reach Kamino and find out the war is over and clones have been granted full citizenship in a show of gratitude for your service: true freedom for you and your brothers,” His eyes closed slightly, and I could see his mind beginning to wander; to want, “What then?” He let himself think for just a moment longer before releasing a dismissive breath of laughter that threatened to break my heart.

“Master of small talk tonight.” He teased, some of his usually weariness returning to those umber eyes. I merely waited expectantly as he let his attention return to the swirling blues and blacks of space. “Guess I don’t really care where we wind up,” he started, voice quiet, “so long as I can keep us all together; keep us safe… Maybe somewhere quiet.” Finally, he let himself begin to truly entertain the idea; to dream. “It would be hard to find a life that would keep them all happy, but… maybe we could find some remote planet – become settlers and just… live.” I didn’t notice the smile spreading over my face until he glanced at me with a pointed smirk, but I didn’t withdraw, beaming at him with pure glee.

“The great settlers of Clone Force 99, braving unknown worlds and taming alien wilds.” I murmured brightly, heart soaring at the earnest chuckle that shook almost silently through his chest.

“What about you, Doc?” He asked, tilting his head back towards me, “What’s next for you once you’ve had your fill of all th-” That elation of far-off hopes and desires went cold in an instant as he went still, attention shifting pointedly toward the hallway behind us. “Echo.” He stated simply, sympathy robbing him of that brief moment of weightlessness.

“I’ll go.” I said, already raising to my feet. He started to object, jaw shifting beneath those relentlessly exhausted eyes, but I settled my hand comfortingly over his shoulder, meeting his gaze in a silence that said everything words simply couldn’t. He reluctantly deflated beneath my touch, a deep gratitude stealing over him as he looked up at me. With a final smile, I quickly moved toward the ladder, hopping up the rungs to reach the bunk room that much faster.

Beneath Wrecker’s still oblivious snores, I could just catch the occasional huff of a too-sharp breath, noted the way that red hammock rocked ever so slightly despite the smoothness of our flight. Quickening my pace, I trotted the last few steps, heart twisting at the pinched crease between his brows, the tension balling overtop his jaws.

“Echo.” I barely breathed his name, one hand resting over the top lip of crimson fabric while the other reached tentatively toward him. His head jerked slightly to the side, teeth just flashing in a brief scowl. Fingers brushing tenderly over his shoulder, I called him again. “Echo… Echo, sweetie, you’re dreaming.” His chest quivered with a frantic, broken gasp, body flinching away from me. “Echo.” Voice raising ever so slightly, I reached down to carefully hold his cheeks between my palms, thumb sweeping over taut muscle. Finally, his eyes snapped open, jaw parting amidst a violent gasp as his arm swept out before him in a panic.

“Shh-shh.” The comforting sound shushed quickly from my lips, letting my touch shift against him just enough to try to draw his attention to me. “Look at me, Echo – it’s alright.” Wide eyes darted blindly around us, only resting on mine for a fleeting second before continuing their desperate search for some ancient danger.

“You’re on the Marauder, Echo. You’re okay.” His hand abandoned its defensive flailing and latched sharply around my arm, frantically shifting gaze beginning to fall on me more frequently. “Easy,” I murmured softly, “You’re safe, Echo. Look at me,” I gently pulled his face back toward me, breathing a gentle, “good” when those golden eyes lingered on mine.

“I want you to breathe with me, okay?” His hold resettled almost neurotically around my upper arm, and I didn’t doubt the bruises I’d find later, but I’d let him break the damn thing before pulling away. Lips softening into a gentle smile, I made a show of drawing in a slow, leisure breath, held it for a moment, and then, with that same unrushed ease, let my shoulders sink as I exhaled. His attention remained locked on me, but the wild terror in the dilated pools of his pupils offered no signs of understanding.

“Come on, soldier, I gave you an order.” I teased, thumb again brushing over his cheeks. Brows furrowing further over haunted eyes, he almost belated grasped some fleeting understanding of my words, and, when I began to inhale once more, his teeth ground beneath the strain of fighting to obey me. “Good. You’re doing great, Echo.” Softly spoken words settled quietly in the air between us. The terrible depth of his fear continued to rend him into a trembling mess of tense muscles and shuttered breaths, but the entirety of his focus now seemed locked on me.

“Again.” I whispered, smile growing encouragingly. His hand shifted with his next tense inhale, darting up briefly to my shoulder before clasping around the back of my neck, arm tensing to pull himself closer, and I nearly broke beneath the violent need in those pleading eyes. “Okay.” I murmured quickly, leaning down to rest my forehead against his. “Okay, Echo; I’m right here.” He was still for only a few rushed breaths, trying and failing to match my calm pace before giving into his fear once more, arm jerking up to lock around me, nearly tumbling from the hammock in his fight to hide against me, legs kicking restlessly atop the too pliant fabric.

“Shh; alright-alright.” My gentle attempts to quiet him fell on deaf ears, struggling to keep him from falling as I eagerly returned the desperate embrace. The moment my feet finally slipped off the floor as I tumbled forward on top of him barely registered in the face of his utter surrender, clinging to me even with his scomp, the augmented limb looping tightly around my lower back. Forehead tucked up into my neck, he merely held me as he trembled.

I continued pressing the soothing words and gentle promises into the fleeting breadth of air between us, carefully shifting a hand up his neck to let my fingers card through the short curls of hair just beginning to regrow around the metal nodes. Slowly, that horrid tremble began to still, breath steadying enough to match mine, but his hold never lessened, arms clutching me tightly against him even as he started to fade. Vaguely, I worried over how my weight might feel pressing against the nodes lining his chest and torso, but, if it caused him any discomfort, he seemed not to notice, nor, surprisingly, did they dig painfully into me.

Unlike the others, Echo was almost always cold. He rarely spoke of it, but I’d seen it in the way his mood fell in poor weather, felt it in the chill of his flesh during the occasional shared touch. Now, however, with the two of us nestled together in the snug cocoon of his hammock, the cool air was a distant thought, warmth quickly pooling between us.

I didn’t noticed my own weariness sneak up on me, overcome with my own relief that the man still hidden against my neck was finally free of that terrible panic, and there was no thought to leaving him, balking at even the risk of waking him. Just a short while longer… I’d stay for just a bit longer, just in case the nightmares returned.

The choked sound and sudden tensing of muscle beneath me brought me back to a reluctant awareness, brows drawing wearily together as I glanced toward the noise, frown deepening slightly in confusion to find Echo staring at me mid gasp, horror and embarrassment sending a painfully hot flush blooming over pale cheeks, arms carefully held away from my body.

“Right…” I sighed, rolling my shoulders slightly to test the stability of the hammock. “Sorry – didn’t mean to fall asleep.” I’d shifted onto my side at some point in the night, arms still coiled loosely around his head.

“S-I… um…” I had to quickly bury my teeth into my cheek to silence the giggle at how painfully flustered he was.

“You had a pretty bad nightmare. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I kinda couldn’t… um… leave.” I tried to explain, pulling my arm from under his head to lean onto, easing at least partially off of him.

“Maker, no-no. Kriff, Doc; I’m sorry…I-” I waved away his words dismissively.

“It’s fine, Echo; really.” I assured him once more, head twisting to glance at the edge of the hammock. “Don’t supposed there’s an easy way out of this thing?” I asked lightly, again trying not to laugh at the lingering panic in those comically wide eyes.

“Oh! Ah, um, not-not really.” He stammered apologetically, jaw opening in silence a moment as his torso started to tense before catching himself and freezing once more. “Your, uh… your legs.” His gaze turned pointedly to lock onto the wall of red fabric beside him, lips stumbling slightly over the words. “Swing your legs over first.”

With a sympathetic smile, I elected against drawing it out any longer, steadying myself with one hand on his chest while the other gripped the hammock itself before slowly craning a leg over the edge, arms tensing against how the bed rocked beneath us from the movement. His fingers flared, torn between reaching out to help me and panicking at the mere thought of initiating further contact, but I managed to touch my foot to the smooth flooring and was able to free the rest of my body with relative ease, shooting him a victorious smile that, even in the frenzy of embarrassment, gleaned a tiny huff of laughter from him.

“Yuh know, I actually haven’t slept that well in a while.” I groaned, arms stretching above my head. Without lingering for a response, I started unhurriedly from the bunk room, lured away by the faint scent of caf.

Hunter was still in his bunk, feigning sleep even as he fought to bite back his own grin, but the others were already dispersed throughout the ship. How we’d slept through Wrecker getting up was beyond me, but I was grateful they’d left us to rest - Echo certainly needed it.

Crosshair was the only one in the tiny kitchenette, lithe body stretching lavishly between two chairs, head absently tilted back with a still steaming mug cradled between his hands. He didn’t open his eyes as I entered, but those thin lips began to curl. I merely readied myself in silence for whatever clever quip he’d surely been waiting all morning to deliver, busying myself with the automated movements of preparing my own cup of caf.

“That a service you’re offering to the whole squad, now, sweetie?” The taunt dripped from that haughty smirk, sharp eyes slitting open to locked onto me in search of a bloom of embarrassment or stutter of shame. Unphased, I merely cocked an eyebrow and, voice sweetly innocent, answered calmly with a question of my own.

“Are you asking me to sleep with you, Crosshair?” The quickness with which that smirk fled his lips, heat seeping up his neck in a flush of red, nearly broke my careful façade of control, jaw tensed against the bark of laughter begging to escape, but I managed to reign it back as I casually walked toward him. Eyes wide, caught, he sat frozen as I approached, but, when I reached down to muse his hair with my hand, that spell broke, head jerking away from me with a deep snarl. Laughing softly, I said nothing more as I continued out of the room.

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whumpty-dumpty-doo · 6 months

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We Are TroubleD - "A Breathtaking View"

Written as a part of @whumperofworlds' WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

Day 14 (my chosen prompts are bolded): Guilt / Chased / "I bought you time, use it!"

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Don't worry, you haven't missed the entries for days 6-13! For more info, please see the notes at the bottom of the post.

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Content warnings: Blood (minor), captivity, difficulty breathing, fear (and fear of death), inability to breathe, injuries (bruises, leg, minor cuts), loss of consciousness/passing out, manhandling, physical abuse (kicking, punching, slapping, strangling), potential character death, recapture, restraints, strangulation, struggling, swearing

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The escape attempt hadn’t gone well for Darius. While Tristan had been able to slip out and actually get away, Darius… well…

Once his friend left, Darius had managed to make a decent dent in his ankle cuff by focusing on the strap that held the metal loop securing the chain. He had weakened the leather considerably by raking the scissor blades across the spot over and over, and finally, after a lot of yanking and twisting, it had popped open. At last, he was free from the shackle that tethered him to the wall. The cuff itself was still attached to him, but he could work with that.

He hastily stuffed the scissors under his mattress, then bolted into the main area of the basement and scanned around for the window that Tristan had used to escape. There was a chair pushed up to one of the walls, and he figured that was the spot.

His breath caught at the sound of floorboards squeaking above him. Shit, shit shit! His captor was awake! It was do or die now. No time to waste. He scurried up the chair, slid the glass open, hoisted himself up, and stuck his front half out into the world.

Cool morning air filled his lungs, so crisp and refreshing that his heart wanted to sing. He could see the sky again without a windowpane separating him from it. The sun hadn’t quite crested the horizon yet, but it was marching along. And the grass… God, he never thought he’d miss seeing grass.

The image was ripped away far too quickly though. There was no warning, just an instantaneous action– an unseen hand grabbed his ankle and yanked, violently jerking him back through the window frame. In a frenzy he grasped for anything he could find, but there was nothing around him large enough to latch onto.

Darius crashed to the basement floor with a howl of pain as he landed on his right leg. It cushioned him a little bit, but it was not a short distance to fall. He couldn’t even process what had just happened before his captor was behind him seizing his arms and holding them securely behind his back.

“THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?!” he demanded.

Darius was aghast as he was pulled to his feet.

“Get off of me!” he threw his whole body to try to wriggle free of the man’s grasp, but that only caused him to be drawn in tighter and held against his captor’s chest.

A strong hand wrapped itself around his throat and applied pressure, not enough to choke, but enough to send a warning.

“STOP!” Darius shouted, tossing his head, but he was suddenly quite scared.

“How the fuck did you get free?!” the man squeezed his throat a little tighter and Darius stilled for his own safety, swallowing hard. He pulled in a few shallow gasps as he thought about his answer, his heart pounding.

“Dull tool… sharp wit…” he croaked. A small cocky smile pulled at the edge of his lips. It wasn’t the time for sass, but snark made him feel better.

“Real explanation, boy.” the grip tightened, so much so that Darius could no longer answer him.

Darius strained until the man’s hand loosened, allowing him to suck in deep breaths again. Unfortunately, there was virtually no time to recover before he was pushed toward the storeroom. He planted his feet, but his captor just swiveled him around and dragged him backwards. Darius growled and flailed again.

He was furious, but he wasn’t foolish enough to think this wouldn’t be a possibility. It had taken him a long time after Tristan had left to work through the strap. It truly was just a matter of time before his captor woke up and came to check on them. The odds of Darius being caught were pretty high. Still, he had that stupid little glimmer of hope in his mind once he was free. The second he stuck his front out the window and smelled the dew on the leaves… heard the birds chirping their morning melodies…

Darius grit his teeth, snarling, kicking, and thrashing against the man’s grasp. His intention wasn’t exactly to get away—though he would try to run again if he got the chance—he just wanted to slow the bastard down a bit and make it harder to pull him back into the storeroom… Anything to buy Tris more time to find help.

Why not poke the hornet’s nest a bit while he was at it, too?

“Mad you got outsmarted?” Darius taunted. “Yeah, I bet so, you piece of shit. I almost got away with it, too. You’re lucky I went for the window and not for your throat. I’ll get through both next time.”

A heavy fist collided with his skull and momentarily stunned him, but he quickly shook off the feeling with a smirk.

“Getting to you, hm? Can dish out taunts, but can’t take them? You’re pathetic.”

He was punched again, harder this time. It took him a little longer to bounce back from that one, but he laughed, a little weaker than before.

“It’s almost over for you and you have no idea. We won, bitch.”

His captor was probably about to indulge him by asking what he was talking about when they reached the storeroom. He took one look over his shoulder to navigate inside, however, and saw that both mattresses were empty. His nails dug into Darius’ arms.

“WHERE IS HE?!” the man bellowed.

Darius lifted his head, staring his captor right in the eyes as he flashed him a smug, shit-eating grin.

“Gone.”

The man roared and ripped something off of the wall- another set of thick leather cuffs. Darius was swung around and thrown to the floor where his wrists were shackled swiftly behind him. Still, he kept up his goading smile.

“Tie me up again, sure. You’re a one-trick pony. It doesn’t matter either way; I’m not scared, and you’re too late. Help’s on its way.”

A sharp kick connected with his ribs and Darius yipped, then groaned out a swear as he curled in on himself. It was the only thing that gave him pause.

“Shut up you fucking brat! Where did he go?!” his captor flipped Darius over to face him, and Darius, battered but still combative, pressed his lips together and shook his head.

He was slapped across the face. Darius might not have been scared in the moment, but the man apparently was.

Darius felt something dribble from the side of his mouth, and he licked at it. Blood. Huh. Imagine that.

“WHERE. DID. HE. GO?” another slap, but Darius stared defiantly back up at him.

“Get fucked.”

He only made a small gasp when the man’s hands were back on his neck, progressively constricting it tighter and tighter.

“You won’t… kill me…” Darius challenged, and he knew it was true. The whole point of his stay here was to be ransomed. His parents would have no reason to pay this asshole if he was dead.

The grip became more intense.

“Last chance, boy. Where. Is. He?”

Darius sputtered and quivered, his body fighting on its own to breathe. His thoughts were growing fuzzy, the need for air slowly beginning to overtake his loyalties.

“I don’t… know… He ran…” he choked out.

But the hands didn’t leave his throat… they only pressed tighter. Panic flashed in Darius’ eyes; He thought he’d be released after giving up some information. It was intentionally vague, but it was the truth. The threat had worked, at least a little bit.

Black dots danced before his eyes, and he gave another desperate shudder, frantically trying to suck in a breath to plead for his life. The links on his cuffs rattled angrily as he struggled and shook. The world was falling away.

No… It couldn’t end like this…

His vision tunneled, darkness encroaching on all sides.

‘Tris… I need you… please…’

Then there was nothing.

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Day 14!

If you're clicking through these and wondering why you just jumped from day 5 to day 14, it's because I decided to post these in the order that made the most sense for my story chronologically. This whole escape scenario kind of blossomed far beyond what I expected it to and wound up becoming its own mini story, so here we are! I couldn't wrestle the prompt days in order to fit the story I wanted to tell, so that's why they're hopping around a bit. Sorry!

Entries for the other days are coming. To see the entries in event prompt day order, please see my event participation masterpost (coming soon, will be linked here when it's up).

If you have any questions, you can always ask me, but hopefully you can find everything I've written for this event in whichever order suits your fancy from the links up above!

Thanks for reading!

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Tag list: @gala1981

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yronig · 9 months

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TOKYO MER: Hashiru Kinkyu kyumeishitsu

Ep. 5

#caught up #smoke #smoke inhalation #oxygen mask #fainting #exhaustion #difficulty breathing #worry team #team like family #whump community #worried friends #asian whump #whump #japanese drama #jdrama #Tokyo Mer

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whumpypepsigal · 1 year

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FUBAR s01e07: “Barry, Aldon’s struggling to breathe here.”

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knights-in-whumperland · 2 years

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Connect (2022): Episode 5

#connect #korean drama #asian wh #asian whump #jung hae in #smog #toxic #Difficulty breathing #suffication #collapse #fall #episode 5

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linecrosser · 2 years

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Febwhump 2023 - No.10 - Difficulty Breathing

(but who is the one having a nightmare?)

#febwhump #febwhump2023 #febwhumpday10 #difficulty breathing #strangling #choke #choking #achaar djaanib #shakkau #kujuun #nightterror

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how-much-for-a-whump · 10 months

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WHUMPCEMBER day 12:

Altprompt: "Drowning"

Kardeşlerim 108. Bölüm

@whumpcember

#whumpcember2023 #day 12 #altprompt #drowning #Kardeşlerim #yiğit koçak #turkish #turkish series #whump #male whump #whumpedit #tied up #difficulty breathing #unconscious #rescued #mouth to mouth #coughing up water #coughing #worried

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heart-hunting · 8 months

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recorded this just a few minutes ago and I still haven't recovered but fuck it felt so fkn good. Ive never felt my heart this fast and I had a weird feeling in my chest but it felt sooooo good. especially when I stuffed my face into my pillow, gasping desperately for air as my phone applied pressure onto my heart. I almost passed out a few times. my body is still shaking. I wish I had passed out

#dark cardiophile #fast heartbeat #heartbeat #dark cardiophilia #suffocation #rebreathing #rebreathing heartbeat #skipping heartbeat #pounding heartbeat #pressure heartbeat #almost passing out #chest pain #difficulty breathing

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minty-mumbles · 2 years

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Febuwhump Days 9 & 10: Voice loss and Difficulty Breathing

A/N: This is meant to be part two of this fic, but can be read independently without too much confusion. Read the full collection of my febuwhump ficlets on AO3

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Wild woke painfully slowly. It was not the comforting slow rise to consciousness one experienced when you had a good night’s sleep, and were surrounded by comfort.

Instead, Wild had to claw his way to awareness. His body screamed for more sleep, telling him that he needed more time to recuperate, but at the same time, pain radiated throughout him, preventing him from falling asleep. He doesn’t know how long he lay there, on the verge of waking but prevented by his tiredness, and on the verge of sleep, but prevented by his pain.

Eventually, a burning feeling in his throat tipped the battle in the favor of wakefulness. He heaved a sigh as he fully woke, and as he did so a quiet wheeze escaped his throat. The sound caused something nearby to stir.

The warm surface he’d been laying against shifted, and the movement made him aware that he was laying next to someone who had their arm draped over him protectively. A low voice disturbed the quiet. Wild didn’t quite process what was said through the last vestiges of sleep clinging to his mind, so he elected to ignore the voice.

He couldn’t bring himself to worry about who it was lying next to. Whoever it was, they radiated comforting warmth, and that was good enough for Wild. He simply buried himself further into the warmth the other person’s chest offered.

Despite having shaken off the sleep that clung to his mind and kept him in an unpleasant daze, Wild still felt horrible. He was still exhausted but knew he wouldn't be able to fall back to sleep. The burning of his throat that had woken him had faded slightly, but Wild knew that if they tried to swallow, the pain would return. His jaw was sore, and it hurt to move. He probably wouldn’t be able to speak even if he tried.

The rest of his body was also sore and stiff as if he’d been holding a stressful position for too long, and he could tell there was a variety of injuries littering him. But he was used to being injured, and nothing felt overly painful, so he elected to ignore the pain for the sake of seeking comfort from whoever was laying next to him.

Unfortunately, the mystery person didn’t seem content to let Wild be. The arm that had been laying over him retracted, and the person shifted to sit up. Wild reluctantly let them, mourning the loss of the warmth. He shivered at the lack of it, but he remained curled up where he was.

The mystery person didn’t seem to appreciate that and started gently but insistently nudging his shoulder. Wild with his throat and jaw being as sore as they were, Wild didn’t bother to vocalize his protest. He simply burrowed further into the blankets.

A hand came to stroke the messy strands of bed head away from his forehead, and Wild let out another soundless huff, leaning into the hand.

The voice spoke again, and now that Wild was properly awake, the haze of sleep had cleared from his mind enough that Wild could recognize the voice and understand what he was saying. It was Twilight, and his voice was gentle, but he spoke assertively.

“Wild, come on, you have to get up. You can go back to sleep after, but you need to sit up for now.” Wild really didn’t want to, but he knew Twilight wouldn’t leave him alone until he did so, and would forcefully sit Wild up himself if he needed to. So he reluctantly got his arms under himself, hauling him up into an upright position. It was harder than it should be.

Twilight placed a hand on his back, guiding him to sit slumped against the rancher’s side. Wild tucked his face into the crook of Twilight’s neck, hiding from the bright light of day that he’d opened his eyes to. He ignored the pain in his throat and groaned emphatically to make his protest known. Twilight hummed sympathetically. “I know, but you’ve been asleep for a while. You need to take something.”

Wild didn’t move, happy to stay tucked into Twilight’s shoulder, and for a few moments, Twilight let him. Then Wild felt Twilight shift his grip, releasing Wild with one hand and taking something from someone who approached from behind. “Come on, Hyrule made some tea with some red potion in it.” The person, Hyrule apparently, moved away silently. Wild reluctantly sat up, supporting his own weight.

If he had to drink something, it might as well be Hryule’s tea. The traveler may be a terrible cook, but he knew his way around herbs and was an expert at concealing the bitterness of a red potion with the sweetness in the tea he brewed. It wasn’t often they had the liberty to take the time to brew Hyrule’s special tea before taking a potion.

Wild drew away from Twilight and obediently took the tea. He sipped the drink slowly as he thought.

The others had obviously had time to prepare for his injury while he was unconscious. It made Wild wonder what happened. Why was he injured and asleep in the middle of the day? The answer was easy to find once he started searching his memory.

The Yiga.

Being kidnapped.

Being held hostage.

The Muzzle and the too-tight rope around his neck.

Wild shuddered at the memories that flooded him, and lowered the cup from his mouth, His hands became shaky as his thoughts progressed.

He desperately wanted to ask Twilight what had happened, How had the other heroes found him? How did they rescue him? Why hadn’t the Yiga just killed them when they had managed to surprise him? He reflexively opened his mouth to ask those questions and more, but the second the first syllable passed his lips, he was forcefully reminded of why he had needed the tea in the first place.

His hand flew up to his neck, trying to do anything to alleviate the burn and ache in his vocal cords. The tea he had been holding in his lap spilled everywhere, and Wild couldn't even begin to regret it, as distracted as he was. Twilight was there in an instant, catching the cup and setting it away from him. He caught Wild’s hands in his.

“Wild, Wild, shhhhh.” He urged. “Your throat is bruised, and I know your jaw can’t feel any better. Just take it easy until the potion does its job. Just use sign until then.”

Wild tried to wheeze out a protest, but that only made it harder to breathe. The realization that he could not speak, no matter how hard he tried, struck Wild like a flaming bokoblin club.

Twilight was right: Wild could sign to get his point across, but the burning in his throat was hauntingly familiar. It was too reminiscent of the feeling that had been present in almost all the memories he had recovered. After Wild had come out of the shrine, he had taken pleasure in being able to use his voice in a way he hadn’t since he had drawn the master sword the first time. Not that he’d known that at the time. He had just known that he liked being loud, and expressing his opinion to the world. He talked constantly, even when he was alone.

It had faded over time as Wild grew used to suddenly having the power of speech again, but he’d never ceased to be a chatterbox.

It didn’t matter that now his voice had been stolen by a piece of rope and not anxiety. Having it taken away from him again hurt more than Wild could express in words- signed, spoken, or otherwise,

Twilight brought Wild back to his chest, holding him tightly and trying to offer comfort. “It’s okay, the potion will start to work soon, and you'll be right as rain.“

Wild didn’t know how to begin to explain to him that it wasn’t the physical pain that was making him cry.

#mint's fanfiction #linked universe #lunwild #lu twilight #lu wild angst #febuwhump #whump #voice loss #difficulty breathing #panic attacks #kidnapping

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staycalmandhugaclone · 2 years

Text

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved - Echo! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!

Why do these keep getting longer?! I really need to try to tone it back a bit lmfao. References to Panic and Secrets Revealed.

Febuwhump Day 9

Found Footage (Alt) – OC&TBB – A pleasant moment at 79s is shattered when someone tries to blackmail doc with footage of the crash on Agamar.

Warnings: Huge PTSD warning here. Flashbacks, disassociating, past injury description, blackmail, grief, angst, some alcohol use (social, not abuse), cursing

WC: 6227

The lounges of 79’s weren’t meant to hold a group of six, particularly with a man of Wrecker’s stature, but squeezing into the circular booth was part of the fun, back reclining against the massive clone’s side with his arm absently draped over my chest while my legs sprawled over Echo’s lap to avoid the accidental stomp of the big man’s heel. Tech was squished on Wrecker’s other side as Crosshair had adamantly claimed the end seat.

“-so I ripped the whole ramp clean off and used it to barrel right through ‘em! Clanker’s never even knew what hit ‘em!” I’d heard the story before, but he was already halfway through his fourth mug of something that looked like a sunset and smelled like motor fuel, and the enthusiasm in his thunderous voice was infectious in its own right.

“Technically, the processing speed of B1-series battle droids would have made them fully capable of analyzing your assault well before their demise; however, inadequate maintenance of their internal tactical components has led to compounding decreases in-”

“Ugh! Come on, Tech! Those things can’t process the difference between a tauntaun and a tooka!” Wrecker interrupted, arm swinging so violently that Echo had to duck sharply against Hunter to avoid getting hit. I’d long since abandoned my drink for fear of the man’s expressive gestures knocking the glass from my hand or bumping me at just the wrong moment, but I found very little need for such things in moments like this. If I was drunk, I might not have noticed the knowing look Crosshair offered his annoyed brother, nor the fond exasperation in Echo’s weary gaze as Wrecker’s anticks surely reminded him of his late squad.

“Doc,” I quickly turned my gaze as Hunter’s voice just breached the chaotic rabble of the bar, “Think your comm’s going off.” He nodded to my waist. Wrecker barely noticed my struggle to push him back enough to reach down for the thin device. The quiet alert chimed at regular intervals to indicate a video message. Slipping it partially into a chest pocket, I shifted to begin the process of escaping from the mass of bodies around me.

“Probably some reminder to recertify something,” I guessed, “I’ll be right back.” The Sergeant was already standing to let me out, but I didn’t bother waiting for Echo to do the same, instead simply scooting over his lap much to his surprise, and I couldn’t help but snicker at how he froze in that half-second of movement. I didn’t hear Crosshair’s snide remark, but his laughter was almost as loud as Wrecker’s, and that alone was worth the chastising look Hunter gave me.

“You want one of us to go with you?” He asked, leaning close enough for me to feel the heat of his breath so he didn’t have to shout to be heard. Cocking an eyebrow, I shot him a teasing smirk.

“It’s 79’s, Hunter. I’ll be fine for five minutes.” His expression instantly darkened, as though the words actually had the power to jinx the scant bit of time I’d be out of sight. I bumped my shoulder against his chest with a quiet chuckle and started through the mass of identical faces masking vibrantly different personalities dancing and shouting and enjoying this moment of freedom to the fullest.

The sudden quiet that loomed just beyond the front doors was striking. I could still hear the booming music and raucous voices, but, with just a few steps into the cool night air, it faded enough to allow a displaced sense of stillness that felt almost wrong after so long in the roar of the bar. Dismissing the strange sensation, I slipped the half-concealed comm from my pocket and walked toward the ally for whatever privacy I could find before transferring the file to my datapad to watch the video.

I didn’t understand what I was watching at first; not consciously. I didn’t understand why the dance of blues and grays beneath the occasional flicker of red sent my heart racing, why the line of distant trees too grainy for anyone else to make out trapped the air in my lungs long after it staled. I tried not to recognize the insignia of that sleeping tooka shoddily painted in hot pink and baby blue below the red medic symbol on the stolen Separatist transport; tried not to feel the icy sweet seeping over my skin as my eyes automatically sought out the crumbled door that I’d nearly broken my arm to wrestle open.

I could hear the flames, saw the glow steadily spreading to illuminate every crack in the shattered durasteel hull as the engines flares from fuel leaking precariously through broken pipes; watched the trembling form tumble from the slim opening I’d only just been able to make through welded and ruined machinery. I heard my heart hammering against my chest, felt the chill of panic flood my veins.

“Emmy!” My body crumbled against the wall at the utter hopelessness in the electronic distortion of my own voice breaking through the speakers of my datapad; at the desolate wail that seemed to go on for eternity immediately after. I didn’t realize I’d screamed back then, but the video zoomed in to show my face, deathly pale from blood loss and shock, expression twisted into a grief that tore through me as violently now as it did then.

My mind absently categorized the injuries of the figure on the screen that I found myself almost convinced wasn’t me: burns marred her hands and forearms, the front of her flightsuit nearly covered in black despite the flame-retardant nature of the fabric, likely indicating severe damage to the flesh underneath it; blood covered the right side of her face, hair heavily matted and near black with it – a concussion at the very least; and the amount of crimson-stained fabric wadded around that ankle was enough to leave one wondering if there was enough flesh to be saved beneath it all.

“Emmy!” That figure crawled barely a meter from the wreckage before shrieking that name again. And again despite how her voice shattered and failed.

I didn’t notice the image blur; even if I had, I couldn’t tell if it was from the tears pooling atop my eyes or the violent trembling of my hand, knuckles gleaming white as my fingers gripped the device hard enough to make the metal casing creak.

She was clawing into the scared ground below her, spine arching as though there was some hope of guarding against the agony rending through her chest, body writhing as she cried, unsteady movements slowly dragging her further and further from the burning mass of twisted durasteel.

I didn’t notice the writing begin to creep over the top of the image, barely registered that the video had been sped up. It didn’t feel like it. It felt like I was trapped in that moment; suffocating beneath the overwhelming scent of fuel weighing down the air, body locked in a panic between shivering against the unbearable cold and the memory of that terrible heat; the sound my skin had made as I’d crawled atop blistering metal, and the sickening absence of touch where I should have felt dirt and pebbles and grass. I remembered the way my body convulsed in fits of agonizing coughes from that cool air sweeping down my raw throat; the heavy taste of copper each one brought with it.

Between the disconnect separating my mind from any reliable sense of time and the way the footage seemed to fluctuate between too fast and too slow, I couldn’t begin to guess how long I’d been left like that, weight held precariously atop my forearms as I screamed and screamed and begged for someone to help me; to save her…

When those figures finally appeared from the distant tree line, I immediately recognized Commander Wolffe, his rifle trained carefully on the visage of my ruin. Barely a few seconds passed before General Koon gave a subtle signaled for him to stand down. Wolffe hesitated a moment but didn’t object when the cloaked figure approached me. I don’t think I was screaming anymore, body absently rocking in time to the still rapid flutter of my heart.

“Miss?” I didn’t remember this either. “Miss, I am Jedi Master Plo Koon. Can you tell me your name?” I knew there’d been some kind of conversation between us, but the details had been lost to me. Wolffe stepped protectively nearer as Koon carefully touched his hand to my shoulder. My head jerked only slightly at first, movements disjointed, before managing to look up at the Jedi’s masked face, and the madness-fueled hope in my eyes shone clearly through the grainy recording, mangled hands desperately reaching up for him.

“Pl-please! Please!” I begged. Koon didn’t shy from my blood-stained limbs, even reaching out with his own for me to cling on to. “Help-he… help her! Please! Please!” The way my hoarse voice shattered through my raw throat made even the Commander flinch. Koon glanced passed me to where the flames were finally beginning to fade before turning his attention back to me.

“I am sorry… there’s no one still alive in that ship.” Even then, I’d felt no doubt for the depth of his remorse, and something about that sincerity robbed me of even the taste of denial, head shaking weakly, begging him for something I knew he couldn’t give. For a long while, he said nothing more, merely let me hold onto him as I broke, body shaking amidst fresh sobs as every hope of happiness I’d had was ripped apart.

“What’s your name?” Only after those hiccupped, shuttered gasps began to quell did he press, voice gentle, calm in a way that give some fleeting quiet to my frenzied thoughts, granting me enough clarity to answer him. Hearing him repeat it in that same calm tone a moment later was a balm, eyes slipping closed as I merely existed in the echo of his words. “Why did you come here?” My lips moved without thought, without trepidation of the consequences for the secrets I freely told him.

“We’re medics… we… we help after… heal the ones left behind… find them passage home.”

“You help clones?” He clarified, a note of surprise just touching his voice, and I watched my head nod listlessly in answer. “Why?” He asked, lowering himself more as though he knew how his very presence seemed the only thing allowing me the strength to speak.

“I… I believe in them – in what they’re fighting for.” He was quiet a moment.

“Then why not leave? Defect from the Separatists and join the Republic?”

“Emmy.” Her name ripped another sob from me, but the words kept coming, “She couldn’t leave her family… So this… this was the only way we could help.” His hand shifted slightly against my shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, and, in that instant, I’d known they were the ones who shot us down, and not for even a fleeting second did I blame them. This was war. We’d known the dangers. “I’d like to help you now, if you’ll let us.” He murmured.

I remembered thinking over that offer for a long while, remembered knowing I could deny him, demand they leave me there; that I would die on that field… or, I could join them; fight for the cause Emmy had died for. The faint nod barely registered on the small screen, but Wolffe stepped forward a moment later. My skin prickled at the cry that tore from my lips as he hoisted me over his shoulder, rifle still held ready before he and the General walked out of sight.

There was no pause of static or flash of black before the image of the freshly crashed transport returned to the screen, and my eyes remained trained on the blurry picture with the same obsessive attentiveness as though I was watching it for the first time, yet I somehow failed to notice those callused fingers slide over mine, carefully loosening my grip until he could slowly pull the datapad away. Didn’t matter. I continued staring at the space that screen had been, no longer needing the footage for my mind to replay it all over and over and over

“Doc?”

“Emmy!” That first, broken shriek seemed to ripple through me, stomach finally seizing. I barely noticed my body convulse against the violent heaves, mind consumed by the distant shrieks still crying from those speakers. Vaguely, I realized someone turned it off or silenced it or threw the damn thing into the seemingly endless cavern stretching out below 79’s platform. Still, I didn’t need that recording to hear them. They’d been seared onto my consciousness, and I would never unhear them.

Some distorted rumble of an almost familiar voice sounded near me. I knew that voice… I knew… no… Emmy! Was someone touching me? Help-he… help her! The terrible memory of that night replaying in my mind sounded more real than the speech of whoever stood before me.

“We need to get her off the street.” Please! Please!

“There is an inn two clicks from here.” Emmy!

“Why’s she breathin’ like that?” I’m sorry.

“She’s in shock – potentially disassociating.” The scent of burning flesh.

“Five soldiers try to get in a cab with her like that, someone’s going to ask the wrong kind of questions.” The feeling of razors in my throat as I screamed.

“Well, we can’t stay here, Crosshair, so go with Echo and find us transport.” What’s your name?

“Tech, who the kriff did that come from?” The roar of flames and taste of fuel.

“I’m already tracing the connection, but it may take a few minutes.”

“Doc? Come on, Doc, try to come back.” Some fractured corner of my mind recognized the face leaning over me, felt their hands gently grasping my cheeks, but I couldn’t see them beyond the wall of twisted durasteel that I somehow needed to break through before the flames burned me alive.

“She don’t look so good.” Pl-Please!

“When you find who sent it”

“I’ll overclock their processors and short out their coolant systems. If there happens to be security measures in place for the door to their server rooms, I think that may also experience a spontaneous failure.”

“Wha’s that mean?” The terror in that split second before forcing my ruined ankle into the brace.

“He’s going to set their computers on fire.”

“Courtesy of Rex – I’ll owe him a pretty big apology next time I see him, but I doubt he’ll notice until after we’re long gone.” Those voices.

“Alright, Doc, I want you to walk with me, okay?” That touch slipped from my cheeks to wrap around my shoulders, and my body shivered violently against their warmth, legs dragging listlessly beneath me as some driving force eased me forward, and, for a moment, it wasn’t fuel I smelled. Some struggling corner of my mind remembered them, trusted them.

“I… I s…” His gentle, guiding movements froze the instant those stuttered attempts at speech fluttered from my lips.

“Doc?” My eyes wondered blindly over a face I so nearly recognized but couldn’t manage to grasp those thoughts long enough to be sure.

“I-I screamed.” I heard the wisps of words tumble from numb lips but couldn’t understand the sorrow that washed over his face. “I… I didn’t realize I… I screamed her name.”

“That was a long time ago.” He murmured, hands tightening where they held me firmly against his side.

“Do you… do you think sh-she heard me?” I think I recognized the way my name sounded in that smoky voice, briefly noting heartbreak in umber eyes before falling back into those flames.

“Doc-”

“Hunter.” A crisp voice interrupted him, and a moment later I belatedly realized he’d begun moving again, felt the hard plane of a chest plate pressed to my cheek.

“Watch your step.” That whispered murmur offered a comfort in its very tone, but the words held no meaning as we came to a stop. The sensation of floating should have been disorientating, but it was barely a thought as he moved an arm beneath my knees and gently lifted me to his chest before handing me off to someone else. And then it was dark again, the world moving around us in time to the hum of an engine.

“I have located the source but will need something stronger to bypass their firewalls.” Numb, I merely existed in the sound of those voices as someone held me, the strong scent of alcohol sharp enough to keep the memory of burnt skin at bay. Someone else wrapped chilled fingers through mine, and still another touch settled over my shoulder

“Park around back, Crosshair. Tech, if I get you access to one of the command centers on base, can you make it untraceable?”

“With Echo’s help, yes.” That grip tightened gently.

“Fryin’ some hunk of metal’s a kriffin’ joke. Where are they? I think we should make sure they ge’ the picture to leave’er alone.” I felt that voice rumble against my cheek.

“Given they are well behind Separatist lines, that is not a viable option; however, I can prevent any future attempts at contact.”

“Tech, you have the best chance at passing for a civi. Put this on and get us a room.” The world seemed to shift slightly, and I vaguely heard the sound of footsteps, the hiss of a door opening and closing, body too disorientated to even flinch at the brief flood of light.

“Echo, send Rex a message. I’d rather we tell him than have him report it stolen.” Those cool fingers started to pull away and some part of me panicked, grip tightening possessively, breath hitching. I didn’t notice the moment of silence, but when another hand touched mine, gently guiding my hold from that cool hand to his, I didn’t question it, again only distantly noting the brief flare of light.

“Doc? Can you look at me?” Something swept slowly along my thumb. The mass of warmth surrounding me shifted until a face came into some fleeting semblance of focus before me. “Hey.” I watched his lips move but couldn’t quite associate them with the quiet whisper of that deep voice. “You don’t need to say anything, but I want you to try to listen to me.” My brows drew weakly together, unsure if his voice was the memory, or if the calm rumble of Koon’s earnest apology was. “You trust us, right?” There’s no one still alive on that ship. Trust. What did he say?

My shoulder felt too cold, and I vaguely realized it was because he’d moved his hand back up to cup my cheek. My eyes blinked, almost surprised to see that face still staring at me when they opened again. For a moment, I didn’t feel the numb agony of burns, the sharp fire tearing through my ankle. Trust… yes. It may have been the only thing I could be certain of, but I knew I trusted him. The unsure movement shifting my head in a nod felt strange, muscles reluctantly remembering their own existence. His hand tightened around mine, briefly drawing my gaze to that contact before hesitantly returning to his face.

“Good.” He breathed, and I think I should have withdrawn from the attentiveness with which those eyes studied me, but, in that moment, I needed to be seen; needed him to see me to keep from vanishing back to that scarred meadow lit only by the dancing flames. “We’re taking care of it, alright? We’re not going to let a damn thing happen to you, so I want you to just take a breath. Do you understand?” He spoke slowly, quietly, as though talking to a frightened animal. That realization struck me seconds before the realization that no, I didn’t understand… I couldn’t…

My jaw shifted listlessly in a poor mimicry of speech but couldn’t manage more than turning my head into his hand in a silent ‘no’, gaze belatedly lingering on the rich tan of the nicked skin covering hard lines of tendons and muscle. His thumb swept over my cheek, touch easing my eyes back to him.

“That’s okay.” He promised. “Do you remember my name?” His… I should… I should know that… I knew his name. Confused panic stole the breath from my lungs, body rocking slightly as my teeth ground together. Why couldn’t I… Where was I? I didn’t hear him call my name, wide eyes darting around the small, dark room, head twisting back at the sudden realization that I was being held by someone, blind to the worry twisting through those kind eyes as frantic awareness jolted through my body, limbs jerking to life.

“Wai-wait, Doc, I wouldn’-”

“For kriff’s sake, Wrecker, let her go.” A third voice chided from further ahead. The instant I realized I was upright, my body surged from them, hands throwing open the door without any conscious understanding of its existence before tumbling to my knees the instant I was free of that dim room, stomach churning anew amidst the rush of turmoil and dread and confusion.

“Whoa! Hey-hey, easy.” How could that voice sound so calm when my heart felt like it was trying to rip itself free of my chest? He whispered my name with such gentle concern, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away when his hand carefully swept along my back. “Shh, you’re going to be alright, Doc.” Something about the knowing sympathy in that murmur consumed me, body straining to still seizing muscles if only to better hear him. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but this will pass… I promise you; this will pass.”

He knew... of course he knew… because… I remembered… I remembered holding him through his own nightmares.

“Echo.” His name broke over my lips in a whimpered sob, and I felt the tension leave him in a slow sigh.

“I’m right here.” He whispered, shifting just a breadth closer to me. I didn’t realize I was crying until the sound of my own sobs seemed to drown out the distant hum of the city. That touch on my back offered only the faintest shift in a subtle invitation, and any hesitation fled me. In an instant, I turned into him, burying my face against his neck as I clung to him, and my heart shuttered at how quickly he locked his arms around me. “Alright… it’s alright, I’ve got you.” Those softly spoken words sent a chill down my spine as they fluttered through my hair.

“She was…” I gasped, hiding in his embrace as the wretched ruin my own voice shattered around me, “She was ri-right there! I le- I left her – how could I leave her?!”

“I know,” He murmured, and, in that moment, I loved him. I loved him for not telling me it wasn’t my fault. I loved him for not telling me there was nothing else I could have done. And I loved him for holding me regardless. “But, right now, you’re here. You’re with me and Hunter and Wrecker and Cross, and we’re damn glad for it.” Those words caught me off-guard, mind pausing to work over them for a long while before slowly pulling back to find those amber eyes, to see the truth in them.

“Tech got us a room. Think you can hold onto me for a minute?” He asked, voice only just loud enough for me to hear.

“I can… I can walk.” The feint of confidence wasn’t enough to fool either of us, but the drive to feel my feet beneath me, to move of my own volition balked at the thought of being carried again.

“Doc…” I didn’t give him the chance to argue, trembling legs already straining to remember how to stand. He quickly shifted to pull my arm over his shoulders and slowly eased us both upright. I had to cling to him more than I anticipated, body swaying violently for several seconds before regaining any semblance of stability. He waited patiently until I took that first step and carefully matched his strides with mine, guiding us toward an open doorway.

Those few steps helped shed that lingering sense of displacement, and the clarity that granted threatened me with a far more desperate fear. We’d barely stepped into the room when the very real threat of what I’d seen sent my heart racing.

“Wait…” I could taste the horror dripping from that single word, barely seeing Echo’s attention dart back to me. “W… where… who sent that video? H-How…” The frenzy of everything that footage implicated washed over me in a flood of panic.

“Easy, Doc; we’re already-” Hunter’s reassuring words fell on deaf ears.

“Wh-where’s my… my datapad-where-” Eyes darting around the room, I only vaguely noticed Tech before pushing forward to try to wrench it from his hands, but Echo held me back, quickly stepping between his brother and me.

“Doc, listen to me: there’s nothing on that datapad that you need to see.” He said, voice just hinting at that commanding power of an arc trooper.

“Get out of my way, Echo, and give me my kriffing datapad.” I growled sharply. Writing. There was writing at one point, right? Scrolling along the top of the screen? I tread quickly around Echo, eyes locked on Tech. He glanced uncertainly passed me, and I didn’t have to look to know he’d sought Hunter’s orders before allowing me to pull the device from his hands.

Painfully aware of the attentive stares of the five men crowded into the small room, I forced my attention to the screen; and then it was all I could see. The video was frozen in the moment after that first scream. Instantly, that tremble stole back through me, hand shaking violently mere inches from that nauseating image, muscles refusing to move even enough for the brief tap needed to play it.

“The sender included a ransom note.” I don’t think I’d ever heard Tech’s voice drop into such a gentle whisper, gaze darting to his with a silent, desperate plea. Tell me. Tell me everything so that I didn’t have to live through that nightmare all over again. “They’ve demanded an extravagant sum of credits in exchange for the original footage, and threatened to turn it in to the jedi counsel should you refuse.” My eyes went wide, face falling slack. Tech easily caught the datapad as it slipped from suddenly limp fingers.

“General…General Koon… I h-I have to warn… Wolffe…” I couldn’t hear the terror in my own voice, guilt tearing through my chest. “They’ll… Wolffe – they’ll decommission him for this!” It wasn’t until Hunter shouted my name, hands clasped tight around my shoulders that I even realized he’d been speaking.

“Breathe.” The word left his lips in a measured, firm order, but I could see the concern darkening those eyes. Blinking back the threat of tears, I vaguely realized my chest was fluttering with those shallow, rapid gasps that offered little more than a fleeting taste of air. His hold softened slightly, and his shoulders began to lift in a slow, deep inhale. Jaw tensing, I struggled to follow his lead despite the way my breath shook with each violent shiver, still, the attempt alone was enough to grant him some sliver of relief.

“Tech already traced it.” He explained in that practiced calm of a hardened soldier, and I found myself hanging onto his every word. “He and Echo are going to find every copy of that video, wipe them from the holonet, and fry every computer it’s ever touched, and we’re going to make sure whoever sent it to you is too afraid of us to ever touch a datapad again.” His thumbs shifted gently over my arms, eyes locked pointedly on mine. “No one is ever going to find out about this.” My diaphragm jerked against the tears clawing up my throat at the words still trying to find voice atop my tongue.

“If it doesn’t work,” I started, but his lips parted to interrupt me. “If it doesn’t work,” I said again, louder, leaving no room for him to object, “You have to promise me… all of you… promise me you won’t go down with me.” I demanded, looking to each of them in turn, loathing the way they balked at my words. “If anyone finds out where I’m from… I’ll-” I couldn’t bite back the sob the very threat of those words tore through me, tears finally slipping from my eyes, but I forced myself to continue, “I’ll be removed from the GAR, probably imprisoned…” I stole a quick breath in the vain hope that it might offer some measure of stillness, but my voice shattered over my next words, “but you… what they’d do to you if they found out…” Again, I let my gaze shift over each of their faces.

Hunter’s hands whispered gently over my cheeks, thumbs absently wiping at the lines of tears as his tall form curled around me. He didn’t say anything for a long while, eyes burring into mine as his jaw worked silently over words he couldn’t seem to settle on.

“If it doesn’t work,” he finally started, only just breathing the words, “I promise you, we’ll figure something out.” A broken scowl twisted over my mouth, but, before I could say anything, he gently touched a thumb to my lips. “You and me, and these di’kuts… we’ll figure something out… but don’t you dare ask us to give up on you… and don’t you dare give up on us.” The fierce determination in those eyes robbed me of any will to argue, strength abandoning me with a suddenness that left me staggering.

Without another word, he pulled me harshly against him, chest swelling with a carefully controlled breath. Instantly, I wilted into his touch, unable even to lift my arms to return that crushing embrace, face hiding against the crook of his neck as I wept, overwhelmed by the fear and guilt and exhaustion. His hand swept up my back, my neck, fingers tangling into my hair. I could feel the steady power of his heartbeat thrumming up his throat, let myself be mesmerized by the calm cadence of his breaths as I tried to believe him, tried to remember the depth of my trust for each of these amazing men.

“Rex is here.” Echo’s whisper held a visceral regret in the simple necessity of being spoken aloud, and Hunter let out a deep sigh.

“Alright. Cross, Wrecker, stay here – no one comes through that door but us. You two, with me.” He continued speaking with that gentleness as he turned his attention down to me. “Is it alright if Wrecker holds onto you for a while?” He asked quietly. I tried not to think about why he’d felt the need to ask, unwilling to even pretend I didn’t need this form of comfort in that moment as my head simply nodded. Still, he didn’t release me until Wrecker’s massive hands slipped around my still shaking form, and I turned into the towering man without hesitation as he enveloped me in those powerful arms.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can, but it might be a while.” I didn’t need to look at him to know he was talking to Crosshair, and, without another word, he, Echo and Tech were gone.

“Couldn’t give two kriffs where they are…” It wasn’t a full minute before the quietly growled words rumbled through his chest. “Wish Tech would just tell who they are… I’d make sure they’d never even think about threatening you again.” The anger storming through him was heartbreaking in itself. I treasured the brilliant glee that usually lit up his voice. Knowing I was the reason he was so filled with fury…

“Wrecker.” There was a quiet warning in Crosshair’s voice.

“I know you lot don’t think I can be stealthy, but this’d be worth it! In-an’-out quiet an’ fast; then we wouldn’t even have worry about”

“Wrecker!” The sniper hissed. Belatedly realizing the effect his words had on me, Wrecker’s shoulders sank, arms softening into something almost tentative.

“Sorry.” He whispered, and I broke anew, teeth burring into my lips to stifle the sobs at the guilt for his own remorse. A quick sigh sounded behind us. I didn’t hear his footsteps, but, when those elegant hands pulled me away from Wrecker’s hesitant embrace, I wasn’t surprised to see those harsh eyes studying me.

“They’ve got a shower here, Wrecker. Use it and sober up.” I wanted to say something, to promise Wrecker that he’d done nothing wrong; that I adored him and knew he only wanted to protect me, but, when Crosshair silently pulled me against his chest, I was too taken aback to speak. Wrecker paused for only a moment longer before reluctantly walking away.

“Come on.” It was an order, but there was a foreign softness to his voice that I couldn’t begin to fight, limbs automatically moving to follow him as he guided me across the room to a worn bed. Only then did I realize he’d already stripped his upper body of armor; felt the heat radiating from the broad muscles of his chest. He didn’t bother kicking off his boots though, holding me firmly against him with one arm while absently shifting the pillows with the other before turning to sit atop the edge of the mattress, easily pulling me with him and, mere seconds later, he was reclining leisurely against the wedge of padding, an almost bored expression staring blindly toward the ceiling as he held me casually against him, one leg cocked at my hip as I hid comfortably atop his chest.

“This alright?” I barely heard the whispered words. He didn’t move, eyes still locked on some invisible point beyond the stained paneling above us. I nodded, watching as my hand flared over the soft fabric beneath my cheek. “I think you insulted Tech.” He mumbled, but there was a subtle note of humor in his voice that eased a nearly silent laugh from me before the reasoning behind my doubt crept back in – not in the brilliant man’s capabilities but from the mere weight of the consequences should he fail.

“I ca-I can’t lose you,” I whispered on trembling breaths, fingers shifting to cling to that sleek material, “any of you.”

“We’re soldiers,” He hummed bluntly, but my head jerked so sharply in a silent ‘no’ that whatever else he was going to say was bit back in the absent churning of his jaw. Letting out another sigh, he merely relaxed beneath me, eyes sliding shut.

I couldn’t seem to draw my attention away from the slow dance of this powerful heartbeat against my cheek, from the gentle ebb and flow of his chest swelling beneath me. He was perfectly still at first, arms merely resting around my back, but, as the seconds ticked by, his hand began shifting absently against my shoulder, fingers slipped along the my ribs, his head tucked down to just brush his jaw against my hair; only brief, thoughtless movements, then falling still again for several seconds before allowing himself another stolen touch, and how could I feel anything but safe amidst the silent promises whispered in those fleeting moments?

The chorus of deep, leisurely breaths gave the air a comforting weight. The simple proximity and peace in those unhurried sighs and occasional listless shuffle of a limb spoke of absolute safety in the simple ease of their existence. My eyes parted just enough to see the soft light filling the small, derelict room, and my heart jumped at the sight before me.

Hunter lay tucked along the very edge of the bed, one arm folded beneath his head while the other had reached out to grasp my hand in his. Echo was beneath him, one knee hiked up at the very bottom corner of the bed while the other had fallen over the edge at some point, head pillowed atop one of my thighs. Tech was curled against my legs on my other side, arm draped over me for his hand to rest absently on my hip. I could only just see Wrecker’s legs stretching out behind him. And beneath me… Crosshair.

In perfect silence, he brought a finger to his lips, gaze shifting lazily over the sleeping forms of his brothers sprawled out around us. I followed his gaze for a moment before turning back to him with a small nod. He returned gesture, chest swelling beneath a deep breath, the movement gently rocking me against him, and he settled back into the nest of pillows as though it was the most natural thing in the world. I found myself hesitating barely a second longer before letting the tension slip away from me once more, melting into his warmth and that powerful, slow dance of his heartbeat against my cheek. When his hand shifted to sweep tentatively through my hair, I let out a deep sigh, nuzzling subtly into him with a love and gratitude I knew I’d never be able to speak aloud.

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