#echo angst/comfort

[librababe99]

Echoes of Her

A/N: Nothing like a little angst to start everyones day! As always comments and feedback are appreciated--My asks are open as well! I hope everyone enjoys - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ Summary: Caught in a painful love triangle with Logan and Jean Grey, the reader confronts Logan about their unspoken connection... Warnings: Angst, Hurt without comfort, love triangle  Word Count: 1146 

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The silence in the mansion's corridors was thick, the kind that presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe. Every step you took echoed off the cold, marble floors as you made your way to the training room. It was late—too late for anyone else to be awake—but you knew he'd be there. He always was when the weight of the world became too much to bear.

You paused outside the door, your hand hovering just above the handle. A part of you didn't want to go in. You already knew what you'd find—Logan, shirtless and sweating, his muscles rippling as he pushed himself far beyond what was necessary. He didn't need to train, not really. You both knew that. It was his way of escaping the thoughts that clawed at him, the memories that refused to stay buried.

And you knew why he was there tonight.

Jean.

The name alone sent a sharp pang through your heart. You weren't naive. You saw the way Logan looked at her, the way his eyes softened, his gruff demeanor shifting whenever she was around. He was a man of few words, but his actions spoke louder than any confession ever could. He loved her—he loved her in a way that was primal, consuming. But Jean… Jean was with Scott.

You weren't sure where you fit into all of this. You and Logan had a connection, something raw and unspoken. But it was hard to define what that was when his heart was so clearly caught between two worlds—between you and the woman he could never truly have.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the small lamp in the corner. Logan was there, just as you knew he'd be. His back was to you, the muscles of his shoulders and arms flexing as he pounded his fists into the punching bag.

"Logan," you called softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't stop, didn't even acknowledge you. His focus was singular, every punch carrying the weight of his frustrations. You walked closer, each step feeling like a mile, until you were standing just a few feet behind him.

"Logan, please," you tried again, your voice trembling.

This time, he paused, his hands dropping to his sides. Slowly, he turned to face you, and your heart clenched at the sight of his face—those deep-set eyes, filled with pain and something else you couldn't quite place.

"Why are you here, kid?" he asked, his voice rough and tired.

You winced at the nickname, one he'd given you long ago when you'd first joined the X-Men. Back then, it had been endearing, a sign of the bond you were building. But now… now it felt like a reminder of the distance between you.

"I could ask you the same thing," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Logan huffed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Needed to clear my head."

You nodded, though you both knew it was more than that. "I thought maybe… maybe you needed someone to talk to."

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, you saw the walls he'd built up around himself start to crumble. But just as quickly, they were back in place, his expression hardening.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said gruffly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Logan… you don't have to pretend with me. I know you're hurting."

His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he looked away. "And what do you want me to say, huh? That you're right? That I can't get her outta my head? That every time I see her with him, it feels like a goddamn knife in my chest?"

Your breath caught in your throat, the raw honesty in his words cutting through you like a blade. But it wasn't just his pain that hurt—it was the realization that you were a part of it. That maybe, just maybe, you were only a distraction, something to keep him from drowning in his feelings for Jean.

"I don't want to be your second choice," you whispered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

Logan's eyes snapped back to you, surprise flickering in their depths. "You're not—"

"Aren't I?" you interrupted, your voice trembling. "Because that's what it feels like. Every time you're with me, it's like you're trying to forget about her. But I can't—Logan, I can't be that person for you. I can't keep pretending that this doesn't hurt."

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to touch your arm, but you pulled away, the distance between you growing. The look of hurt that flashed across his face was almost enough to make you reconsider, but you held your ground.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "I know you are. But sorry doesn't change anything, does it?"

Logan's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words crashing down on him. "I never meant to hurt you."

"But you did," you replied, your voice breaking. "And I don't know if I can keep doing this. I can't keep being in love with you when you're in love with her."

The silence that followed was deafening, the air between you thick with unspoken words. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle he was fighting within himself. But you knew—deep down, you knew—he wasn't going to choose you. Not really.

"I don't want to lose you," he finally said, his voice raw with emotion.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady yourself. "You already have."

The words hung in the air, a finality to them that neither of you could ignore. And as you turned to leave, you felt a part of your heart break, knowing that this was the end of whatever it was you and Logan had.

You walked out of the room, each step heavier than the last, the distance between you and Logan growing with every second. You didn't look back—you couldn't. Because if you did, you knew you'd crumble. You knew you'd run back to him, and you couldn't allow yourself to do that.

As you reached the end of the hallway, you paused, your hand resting on the wall for support. The tears you'd been holding back finally spilled over, and you let them fall, each one a release of the pain you'd been carrying for so long.

But even through the tears, you knew one thing: you deserved more than being second best. And as much as it hurt to walk away from Logan, you knew it was the only way to heal.

The only way to find yourself again.

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Part two

[ohheycallmek]

The Bridge: A Bad Batch Epilogue

Written by @ohheycallmek

Word Count: 7826

Summary: Three scars. One story. A bond that survived the fall.

Content Warning: (Subtle) Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Author's Note: This takes place in an alternate universe in which Tech survived his enactment of Plan 99. It follows much-needed interactions between Omega and Tech -- as well as Tech and Crosshair just hours before the beginning of her journey to fight alongside the Rebel alliance. Crafting this has served as my own personal therapy for a number of weeks and I cannot even begin to tell you just how proud I am for the outcome.

I hope you enjoy! xx

☆ Page Dividers by @cafekitsune ☆

Hunter's gaze lingered tentatively at the young woman just a few footfalls away. Her hands precariously folded another set of blacks into her duffle at the edge of her bed.

“You packed the field medkit?” he asked.

It didn't matter. Any excuse just to hear her respond again. He wanted to memorize the cadence of her voice and catalog it in detail like the final entry in a mission log.

“It was the first thing I packed,” she answered without looking up. “Echo triple-checked it.”

Hunter smiled faintly, then softened. “Of course he did.”

Omega crouched down and pulled Wrecker’s Lula out from beneath her bunk, nestling the worn, little tooka doll in her hands. Its once-vibrant fabric had dulled with age, seams lovingly restitched. She held it against her chest for a moment, as if drawing strength from the lopsided toy.

Hunter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching with a crooked grin. “I’m still shocked he’s letting you take that ratty-looking thing with you.”

Omega’s smile grew, her eyes still fixed on its buttoned face. “He said I’d earned it.” She glanced up. “He said she belongs with the bravest of the Batch.”

Hunter chuckled, “Did he now?”

"He tried not to cry when he said it,” Omega added with a glint in her eye, “I knew he couldn't make it two words in without turning into a puddle.”

Hunter's lip twitched, his own waterline betraying him. He pushed the emotion down. Not now.

“Well, if you need anything, ‘Megs…” His voice faltered into something much smaller and fragile than intended. “You know where to find me.”

Omega turned to face her brother, a feeble grin playing on the corner of her thin lower lip. The strength in Hunter’s prematurely aged knees weakened for only a second at the sight of her. For a moment, he could almost see her the way he used to…his baby sister, his kid. But the illusion was gone just as fast as it came.

She stood before him now, not a child, but a woman carved out by the same galaxy that had weathered him. Still beautiful. Still unmistakably Omega. But in the soft glow of the island’s evening, he saw it—the quiet etchings of age beginning to settle, the faint lines near her eyes, a single crease in her brow.

And yet, beneath it all, she remained untouched. She was a genetic anomaly. Designed differently. Built to endure.

She was always meant to be small…but she’d grown in ways the Kaminoans could have never predicted.

He swallowed.

“Yes, Sargent.” She voiced prominently, breaking through the reverence.

Hunter gave a subtle salute, “Proceed, soldier.”

Tech had overheard the tail end of their exchange and without fully meaning to do so, his long legs moved ahead of his intent. His footsteps were soft and uncertain, echoing lightly down the corridor as he sauntered toward them, his posture tight with hesitance.

By the time he reached the bend, Hunter had already turned to leave, his back to the doorway. He paused just for only a moment, his heightened senses always ten steps in front. He felt a shift in the air and the familiarity of a presence he knew all too well before he even had time to look.

He motioned a nod of approval before cupping a strong, callused hand over the curvature of Tech's shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze. Tech stiffened only slightly at the sudden contact, more out of reflex than shear resistance.

Hunter passed him by soundlessly, leaving the man alone in the dimly lit hallway. Tech's feet pushed him onward and over to the cracked open door.

“Omega.” His voice came out strong.

Her name resounded like a command as opposed to a question in the quiet of the room.

She swiftly turned, caught unawares by her other brother looming just outside of her cabin. A dry heat collected over the skin of her forehead for a moment before responding.

“Yes?” She asked, spine straightening.

Tech's gloved prosthetic hand came to meet the splintered wood of the framework. His finger tips curled into the fixture while his other hand instinctively reached for the yellow-tinted lenses that were no longer shielding his eyes. It was a true force of habit. Despite the partial repair of his vision, he'd spent years relying on them, an old, anxious tic. They'd become second nature burned into habit, burned into muscle memory…burned into skin. The scar where the goggles once rested still circled his eyes like a brand, white and raised.

The tremendous, harrowing leap he took had taken more than just vision. It had claimed his left arm in the impact, the result of a desperate, failed attempt to break his descent. That he survived at all was nothing short of miraculous.

He pulled back, mildly embarrassed and wiped the action away on the rough fabric of his pants.

“You are scheduled to take off tomorrow evening.”

Omega nodded, “I am.”

“If you would be so kind…” Tech's weight noticeably shifted from the left ball of his foot to the right despite his endless rehearsal of this very encounter.

Kriff.

“I would very much like the opportunity to speak with you. I believe a private discussion between you and I would serve as necessary, perhaps valuable, given your impending departure.”

His eyes flickered to the hallway where Hunter's shadow had loitered more than once that same day.

“I have observed that Hunter has been…lingering quite a bit, understandably so, and…I wanted to snag you whilst I could. If you would be so willing.”

He hesitated but quickly added, “I…don't want to take too much of your borrowed time…I can assist you in packing if that is what you require…”

Omega's shoulders sagged from her ears. She hadn't realized she had become so noticeably tense. This had become an undeniably common occurrence. Though a significant amount of time had passed, there were still fragments of their once close relationship left untouched.

It was evident in the way she softly called him to the dinner table, a pot of his favorite stew simmering with a peculiar blend of flavorings just the way he used to like it. Not because he had asked for it, but because she remembered.

And in the way he scrambled clumsily to ask if she wanted a cup of caf after pouring his own, the words stuttering out as if he had overstepped a boundary. The very act of caring to him felt like navigating a minefield.

Unspoken words. Echoes of absence.

“Of course we can talk, and the help shouldn't be necessary, Tech…but…thank you.”

Tech nodded with a slight tilt of his head and gestured for her to follow. The two of them exited the room side by side, moving without any real direction. Their boots softly clinked against the corridor flooring, quiet and rhythmic. Omega eventually took the lead, guiding them toward the private dock that jutted out from the base of their peaceful cabana. A gentle breeze carried the fragrance of florals and sifted them through the air to lessen the density of the temperature.

With a small sigh, Omega leaned down and pulled at the buckles of her old boots. As she slipped each foot out, her toes curled briefly against the warm wood. She eased herself down, seated cross-legged against the faintly polished planks. She patted the empty space beside her with an open palm, her eyes motioning toward Tech but refusing to hover.

He hesitated.

Then, with his usual brand of rigid grace, Tech lowered himself next to her. His sprawling legs folded haphazardly beneath him, mechanical knees jutting up to his chest. He clasped his hands in front of them, cogs turning, visibly calculating the least restless position and failing to look at ease in all of them.

Omega watched him falter for a moment, then reached over and tapped the side of his boot with her bare toe.

“You know,” she said, voice feather light, “you’re allowed to be comfortable too.”

Tech's jaw flexed, “Comfort is…a relative term. Unnecessary at this given moment.”

Her brows turned upright, concern lacing her voice, "Do they-…hurt?”

He hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Not in the traditional sense, no…but...these limbs were not engineered to motion in such a way. There are moments in which my body remembers how it used to move…it-...fights against that memory.”

Omega was quiet for a moment, then extended a hand toward him.

“Take them off,” she said. “Just while we're here together. I won't judge.”

His brow furrowed, unsure. “They're quite loud and the removal process is…inelegant.”

“When have you ever been elegant?” She teased with a smirk.

Reluctantly and with a miniscule huff of breath, he unfastened the clasps of his shoes and freed himself. The sound of the metal fixtures hit the dock with a dull clunk, his ankle joints screeching as if crying for oil. The limbs caught the moon's fading light oddly, but she had been correct, it was much more comfortable to be boot-less.

“There,” she said, satisfied as he handed over the pair, “Now we’re officially off-duty.”

Tech stared ahead for a long moment, his shoulders gradually uncoiling.

“I’m really going to miss this place,” Omega said on a slow and steady exhale.

Her watchful eyes stretched outward, as if sheer will could take a photograph of every inch of land before her. She wanted to savor it. Put it in her pocket so that whenever she longed for home, she could pluck it out and gaze into it like a window.

“That is quite an understandable observation,” Tech replied, eyes following hers. “You have made this flourishing island your home.”

She turned toward him slightly. “Our home,” she corrected, her voice quiet but insistent.

Tech blinked. His lips parted, his tongue drawing a thin line over top of them as he faltered.

“Y–yes. I…suppose you are correct. Our home.”

The silence that followed wasn't empty—it was full. Of years. Of history. Of everything that had been left unspoken since his return.

Omega pulled one knee up to her chest, arms wrapping around it casually. “You do understand that now is the time for you to rest, right? You've fought the long war, Tech. Now it's my turn.”

His lip twitched, nose wrinkling in distaste. “You know just as well as I do that doing such a thing remains a significant challenge for me,” he muttered. “And…I do not handle challenges with integrity.”

Her eyes gazed longingly into the empty vacuum of space, admiring the stars, moons, and distant planets scattering and creating luminescent reflections on the ocean bed. 

“Have you spoken to Rex? I do recall him asking about you just the other day. He…had contacted Hunter. I just happened to overhear when your name was brought up.”

Omega nodded, unable to deny a rising smile, “We spoke, yes. He's excited for me. He expects me to do great things. Important things.”

Her posture lengthened, pointing a solitary finger in Tech's general direction, mimicking Rex's gruff vocal tone, “You were always destined to fly amongst them, little Rebel.”

Tech muddled at his own fingertips and awkwardly peered down into his lap, “If it weren't for my teaching you all those years ago, you would never find yourself in such a position to help so many individuals. I suppose, in many ways, you can say that I am…proud of you, Omega.”

Omega gleamed, grinning fondly, “Well, you've taught me everything I know. Some of my best memories, the ones I hold most dear, are of you and I traversing the clouds.”

A miniscule lump began to congeal in Tech's throat, the burn of it nearly causing his eyes to water. This was a foreign emotion. One only half-expected given the gravity of the circumstance.

Something in his stomach twisted—not uncomfortably, not yet at least, but deeply. It was as if his body was attempting but failing to recalibrate around a feeling he had spent countless time and energy to barrier. Sentimentality, perhaps. Gratitude, maybe. Love…most-definitely.

“And Poor Wreck’...he's been taking it harder than anyone, I think. Every time he looks at me he complains about the pollen count because his eyes get rashy.”

Omega attempted to stifle a small laugh, of which Tech returned in short.

“Wrecker has always been…emotionally expressive. Some things never do change.”

“And Crosshair…”

Omega's voice wavered for a moment and Tech could have sworn it would have given away like an improperly-crafted rope bridge if it hadn't been for his own inhalation of breath.

She turned, eyes narrowing, “...Are you two still-?”

“I-...I suppose I could…say so…yes.”

Omega's eyes searched Tech's for some sort of bias, “But he's your twin, Tech. What happened between you two-”

“Should not have occurred in any capacity. I know that, Omega. Believe me.”

The silence that followed hung in the air like the humidity before a downpour. The storm never came.

“My apologies.” He noted curtly, taken aback by his own defense, “That was…an unnecessary vocal reaction.”

Omega nodded, “It's alright.”

A beat.

“I can only try my best to imagine what that was like for him…what it was like for both of you…” She continued.

Omega pulled a streak of blonde from her eyeline and tucked it behind her left ear.

“I was still so…naive. When all of that happened, the only person I knew I could trust was him. I was beside myself…I was petrified…not of you, but what you had become. I didn't truly understand. I didn't know how I could approach you moving forward. I didn't know how to reach you anymore…I-…didn't know if you longed to be reached…”

Tech sucked the inner flesh of his lower lip between his crooked front teeth, “I do recall. You…feared me quite a bit upon my return.”

“It wasn't fear, so to speak. It was…uncertainty.”

Without even a second thought to the action, Omega placed her hand overtop of Tech's mechanical one. The sensation was foreign, strangely unfamiliar, despite how often she held onto Echo's scomp link.

She swallowed audibly, “Is this-...okay…?”

Tech slowly, tactically pulled away to remove the leather gloves from both hands, placing them beside him with care. His fleshy palm met the back of Omega's hand with such ease it was almost second nature, his robotic apenditure coming to cup around the front of it. She smiled small, savoring the cool clammy feeling of flesh and oiled metal sandwiched together. His human thumb moved in slow, calculated circles, his eyes never leaving hers.

It was different now, the partial blindness Tech was left with in his right eye, caused by a splinter of yellow glass shard into his cornea. Even the Empire, with all its resources, couldn’t repair it. His left eye still functioned with pistol perfect clarity, able to identify near-microscopic entities, but when he looked down and saw Omega’s hand in his, the image through his right was nothing but an indiscernible blob—a shapeless, golden blur he could feel more than see.

“You were always willing to find such goodness in me. Such…humanity…despite my ever so prevalent inability to vocalize my innermost feelings properly.”

“In the time that you were gone, Tech…nothing felt right…it was…terrible.”

Tech shrugged, “I can imagine so. Familiarity, once removed, often creates instability in a routine.”

“It was…quiet.” Omega noted, “And not the good kind. Not the kind that rocks you to sleep at night…the kind that…aches…”

With her other hand, Omega reached forward, her thumb meeting scar lines. He winced like peroxide to a cut. Just a faint sting.

“You know, I don't quite remember this one,” she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

Tech exhaled through his nose. “It was a souvenir from a particularly unfriendly Loth cat.”

She shook her head, “You always did make friends wherever you went.”

He gave a breathy chuckle, but it cracked partway through. “I attempted diplomacy. It responded with claws.”

Omega giggled softly, then let her hand drift lower, grazing the corner of his eye over the delicate crows feet littering the corners, “And these…?”

“I blame you,” he shot back instantly, “Years of squinting at your increasingly reckless decisions and your blatant disregard for gravitational safety measures.”

“Or your less than substantial eyesight was really beginning to catch up to you.” She scoffed.

“Now, perhaps I wouldn't have had the need to perpetually narrow my gaze if it wasn't for someone hiding my goggles like a competitive sport.”

She smiled, silently victorious. He didn't argue further. She slowly leaned into him then and her back found a home against his chest. Without needing to be asked, his arm wrapped around the front of her…tight, careful, and with such precision he was afraid she might disintegrate if he motioned incorrectly. She could feel him take a rapid but silent inhale of breath beneath her shoulder blade. She sighed deeply, craning her neck to the sky as her spine relaxed column by column.

He swallowed hard, hoping she couldn’t feel the way his hand trembled ever so slightly where it rested above her ribs. But as she shifted, nestling into him more fully, he knew there was no hiding it now.

His heart was pounding. A wild, erratic metronome. She felt it immediately.

“Your heart is going ballistic,” She mused revelantly, her breath warm against the tanned skin of his collarbone.

He could sense the sly smile in her voice. Her coy observation hit harder than she likely intended.

“Affirmative,” he said, the word tight against the tremor of his lungs, vulnerability vacuum-sealing itself inside of him, “I can’t-...I can’t seem to regulate it at this present moment.”

“A complete system malfunction. That sounds like a design flaw.” She teased, tapping two fingers in time with each beat, slowly accelerating, “You could probably power the Marauder with this thing.”

Tech tried to ground himself with little luck. He gave a weak huff, the sound resembling a laugh tangled in nerves…perhaps a short circuit. He made a feeble attempt to ground himself…eyes scanning the horizon for a focal point, fingers twitching faintly like antenna searching for calibration.

“Omega…please.”

She stilled. His voice cracked. Raw. Exposed. Human.

“Hey…it's…just me.” She noted, voice lowering, the all too familiar feeling of him against the small of her back again causing emotions to rise.

It was just her. She was the variable that had always defied the equation. An unchecked point that took root in the part of him he'd kept long sealed off.

“I know…I believe-...that's what frightens me. You are the only one I have ever let this…close.”

The soundlessness was deafening and when Omega turned her ear to his chest, the only audible notation to fill the silence in between her words was the rapid thundering of his heart.

“Tech?”

“Hm…?”

A flat moment passed, one he would later log as ‘critical emotional threshold reached.’

“I'm really going to miss you.”

The words struck him harder than blaster fire. Tech’s posture faltered; the rigid control he’d clung to for years had now dissolved. He let out a single, uneven breath…half-sob, half-relief…and for the first time in his life he allowed himself to be entirely undone.

A small quiver developed at the very point of his chin at first. He sniffled once, finger rapidly finding a home beneath his lashes to wipe away the condensation that was slowly beginning to flow, unauthorized.

Omega felt the shift. She gripped his forearm a little tighter in response, the scent of sandalwood and mechanical oil enveloping her completely as she pressed closer. She didn't need to turn to see that his emotions were running rampant. She didn't need to look into his eyes when he spoke again. She was already unraveling alongside him.

“And I-...too.”

Words escaped as Omega quickly pulled back, tears free-flowing from her lids and mimicking his instantaneously. The mask she bravely held had been discarded like scrap metal into the compactor. She sobbed once before yanking him inward. Her arms snaked instinctively around his neck and while his hesitantly hovered over her back, they soon fell into place as he felt the softness of her cheek meet his neck. They stayed that way for a few moments more, Omega breaking it off to place a tender kiss against the silver stubble just barely sprouting from his cheek.

“I…I don’t care what you’ve been through or how much of you came back changed,” she voiced with conviction.

“You’re still my brother, Tech. You always will be. And I…I love you—for everything you were, everything you are now, and everything in between.”

Tech smiled—a rare but complete toothy smile that trembled beneath the weight of his tears. They fell in waves he could no longer hold back or deny.

“I’ve become so...accustomed to change,” he murmured, eyes distant, voice husky, “Adaptation is supposed to be my primary function. But this…”

A pause.

“This moment in time has gone beyond all protocol. For once, I feel it…not just up here…” He tapped a fingertip gently against his temple, then let his hand drift downward. “But…in here.” His palm came to rest over his heart, pressing lightly as if trying to soothe the ache.

Omega reached out, her expression tender. She brushed the edge of his hand with her fingers. Her eyes shimmered.

They sat in the quiet that followed, no longer requiring words. The stillness between them felt full of a sudden remarkable understanding for the first time in ages. For once, Tech need not alter nor classify. He stepped out of the pilot seat for just a moment, allowed his high strung intuition to take a necessary sabbatical, and let fate take the lightspeed lever.

Omega stirred, her voice resounding brighter now, twinged with a slight mischievous grin, “If only the others could see you now…Wrecker would pull you in so tightly to comfort you you’d regret having ribs…Echo would start calling you the ‘sappy one’.”

Tech's chest still tremored. He tried but failed to stifle the shaking of his shirt, straining against the visible pulse in his neck. He even hooked a finger into the front loop of his collar to loosen it for more air. All attempts were futile.

“I—” He stopped.

His voice betrayed him like a cracking whip. He cleared his throat and tried again. Omega waited patiently.

“I…understand the logic of-...of tears. The biological function, hormonal regulation, cognitive reset…but this…this is…uncomfortable…how emotions seem to override physiology.”

Omega’s expression softened, “It’s okay to cry,” she said. “Tears are the body’s way of recalibrating.”

A sound escaped him—the kind he would’ve hidden once, maybe even from himself. He blinked rapidly, his lips twitching upward in a weak, crooked smile.

“I must say…” His voice was thinned now, “Your phrasing…it’s—remarkably familiar.”

“My flight skills aren't the only thing you've taught me,” she stated simply, her tone warm and sure of herself.

Omega leaned back into him once more, doing a small, playful shimmy that lightened the moment without letting it float away entirely.

Then, softer, “Do you remember the first festival here on Pabu?”

Tech’s breath hitched as his eyes closed. He exhaled slowly through his nose, a long sigh wrapped in a scoff, humor creeping right around the edges. Their tears had long been forgotten now.

“Unfortunately, I do. Quite vividly.”

“I had the best time,” she mused nostalgically, “The lights, the food, the music…”

“Yes, all the while I was suffering cardiac irregularities and a full mental collapse.”

Omega tilted her head as the memory settled, “I was following the parade and watching the fire dancers.”

“Without telling anyone where to find you,” Tech added, eyes flickering with the remnants of panic. “You vanished into a sea of unfamiliar faces. One moment, I was recalibrating the air quality sensor, and the next…”

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” She noted, highly amused.

“I lost you for forty-two minutes, Omega,” he said flatly. “It was catastrophic. You disappeared in a massive crowd in the middle of a noisy, disorganized local celebration with no fixed perimeter. Hunter and Wrecker brushed you away like you were just going to grab rations.”

“I was just going to grab rations!”

“Wrecker gave you twenty credits and said, ‘Bring me something sticky.’ I would hardly call that a secure recon mission. You were only ten.”

Omega smiled small, “Eleven and a half.”

She corrected, he continued.

“I called your name approximately fifteen times. I searched every inch of that square, I scoured each alley, and I interrogated five different vendor stalls and a fruit cart. Not a single sign of you.”

Omega’s voice was quiet now, reminiscent and almost blissful, “But then you saw me.”

“At the fountain,” he said, breath catching. “You were seated on the outer rim, barefoot, brandishing two, giant kabobs like dueling sabers. Smiling. Laughing.”

“I waved at you.”

“You waved,” he echoed deadpan.

Omega giggled. “You looked furious.”

“I was,” Tech admitted. “Or I thought I was. Until I reached you. And then…I just-...”

He stopped, his eyes far away again.

“I lost all semblance of speech. I failed to reprimand. I didn’t even think. I just pulled you to me. Hard. It was a magnetic impulse. I couldn’t help it.”

She remembered. The way he had grabbed her then, not rough, not angry, but with a depth of desperation she wasn't accounting for. His arms had wrapped around her so tightly it had knocked the air out from her lungs with a wheeze. If he had been wearing his chest plate as opposed to the black turtleneck undershirt, the metalloid surface would have broken her nose. His hand cradled the back of her head like her skull would shatter. She’d frozen for half a second before melting into him completely. Unexpected but far from unwelcome.

“I remember,” she whispered. “You were shaking.”

“I hardly registered the physical vibrations until you pointed them out,” Tech whispered back.

“...That was the first time you called me your sister,” Omega said softly, a slow, knowing smile tugging at her lips.

Tech’s eyes narrowed in faint confusion, “You-...heard me say that?”

“Of course I did, you aren't slick…” she replied, warmth blooming in her voice. “You came crashing through the crowd like an anxious storm. Stars, I had never seen you so disheveled.”

A dry huff of breath escaped him, “Disheveled is a generous classification.”

She grinned wide, “You had leaves in your hair,” she added, biting back a giggle, “One was dangling right between your lenses on the bridge of your nose.”

Tech groaned quietly, covering part of his face with one hand. “That was the result of a rather ill-advised shortcut through the brush behind the pavilion. I miscalculated the slope of the embankment and-”

“-rolled halfway down it,” Omega finished, laughing now. “And then, Force-willing, you grabbed some poor stranger by the shoulder, who very nearly dropped his Besbin Fizz, and in a rather boisterous anxious stutter opined, ‘Pardon me, sir, that's my sister over there!’”

“I-...suppose I did announce myself.”

Omega absent-mindedly ran a fingernail over the curve of Tech's human forearm,“I remember the rest of them teasing you countlessly for it.”

“Oh, yes. Wrecker spent weeks reenacting my concern every chance he could with a theatrical flare that made me wish it could be a physical possibility to crawl out of my own skin.”

Omega laughed, her shoulders shaking gently against him. “Echo wished he hadn’t missed it. He kept saying, ‘Kark, I leave for one mission and that’s the day Tech faceplants into foliage and declares his undying devotion to his lost sister?’”

“Devotion is a strong word,” Tech replied, though a flush crept faintly across his aged cheeks.

She nudged him, “It’s the right word.”

He exhaled deeply, eyes rolling.

“Hunter was…” she began, softening, “well…Hunter about it. Smiling like he always does when he knows too much and says too little.”

“Yes,” Tech said,“I believe his exact words were, ‘You're sounding more like a brother than a soldier every day.’”

“You came to my quarters late that night,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. “How did you know I was still awake?”

“I suspected as much with the excessive quantity of sugar you devoured at the festival” he murmured, his lips pressing into her hair affectionately, “I stood outside your door for a long while. I'm shocked you didn't hear the pacing of my boots against the wood. I had my datapad. I was…going to write out my apology.”

She smiled faintly, “Instead, I pulled you in like you belonged there and made you sit on the floor beside me. I told you to watch the lanterns.”

Tech’s gaze drifted toward the window as if he could still see them. “It was…glorious. They rose in increments until the sky was full of them.”

At this point, he now held her without calibration. One of his hands drifted up to her hair, pulling it from its loosened ponytail and allowing it to fall naturally down the hills of her shoulders. The rigid fingers of his prosthetic sifted through it absently, smoothing and curling strands around his knuckles, a rhythmic movement that kept time with his thoughts. His organic hand now held hers securely, admiring it closely, cynically as if inspecting for injury. He knew there'd be none and yet he just couldn't help himself.

“You toyed with my hands without even truly acknowledging it,” He began, voice edged with that clipped, precise articulation of his—every syllable placed with intent, “You assumed you had permission and gave each digit the gentlest squeeze. It was as if you were sending Morse code with each surge. You mapped my veins like they were star charts. I didn't stop you.”

His palm now pressed into hers, aligning each ridge where her knuckles curled, measuring it and memorizing it.

“Yours were so…tiny.” His voice was colored with subdued amusement “I hypothesized that the odds of my own couldn’t possibly fit into something so dainty…and yet…”

“The perfect match.” She finished, grinning up at him.

He glanced at their hands, still joined, then back to her.

“You were so stiff at first,” Omega said, her tone teasing again. “It was as if sitting on the floor would summon a Zillo Beast that would come up from the tiles and eat you alive if you so much as leaned back.”

“I wasn’t accustomed to informal, affectionate closeness.” Tech stated dryly.

“But you stayed.”

Tech's voice dropped, soft as breath. “You fell asleep. You were curled around me just like this” His eyes glossed over her frame draped in his arms in a similar fashion.

“You were so still. I found myself monitoring each inhalation. I counted your breaths. Tracked the rise and fall of your chest.”

A pause, almost imperceptible. His eyelids fluttered briefly.

“I must have fallen asleep sometime after the sixteenth cycle.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Omega asked.

“I couldn’t,” he responded. “I didn’t want to. That moment felt like-...like peace. Like we were no longer fighting the long war to keep you safe…at least for a moment.”

Omega reached up and placed her palm against the side of his face.

Then, with a sly smile she couldn't resist, her voice rose, “You still snore like that, you know.”

Tech blinked, agast. “I do not.”

“You absolutely do,” she grinned. “It’s very faint. A sort of... precise warble.”

Tech opened his mouth to protest, indignant, but it was no use. Omega was already laughing, her shoulders bouncing softly as she buried her face briefly into the front of his shirt. The sound wrapped around him like starlight, and despite himself, his protest melted into a very subdued reluctant smile.

In an instant, her laughter was frayed by a familiar, throaty cough. Crosshair stood at the far end of the dock, half-shadowed by the tall grass. His stance was relaxed but deliberate, arms folded across his chest, either out of discomfort or to wade out the chill of the evening.

“Go,” Tech stated, gentle yet firm, “I…will meet you inside.”

Omega’s eyes rapidly glossed over his before taking a hold of Tech's hands. He helped to steady her as she made her way to her feet. She rose with ease and her hands remained locked with his. Then, just before letting go, her fingers pressed a series of rhythmic squeezes in the spaces in between.

One. Pause. Two. One. Three.

He recognized it instantly.

Omega smiled wittingly and then turned. She met at Crosshair's side for a moment, wrapping her lanky arms around her brother's much taller, angular frame. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he smirked in that rare, subtle way of his…one corner of his mouth curling around the ever-present toothpick. With a flick of his fingers, he pulled it free and leaned down just enough to press a kiss to the top of her head. It was brief but it landed like a promise. Then, almost absently, he slipped the small splint of wood into his pocket, as if tucking away the moment itself.

She disappeared into the night like a sheet through wind. Crosshair’s eyes lingered on the space she’d left behind, as if unsure whether to follow or freeze. Caught between instinct and hesitation. Then, at last, he moved—slow, deliberate steps carrying him to where Tech stood waiting.

“Tech.”

“Crosshair.”

Their names met in the air like old weapons placed on a table—simple, familiar, yet heavy.

Crosshair turned his head and his eyes were sharp and unreadable. The hum of the night was drowned out by silence…by all the things they hadn’t said to one another…by the months of believing him dead…the anger, the guilt, the impossibility of his return…

And yet…

“I never expected you to come back,” he said flatly, Tech could nearly hear the uncomfortable flex in his brother's jaw.

Tech inhaled through his nose, steady but slow. “I never expected to be back.”

Silence yet again.

“I enacted Plan 99,” Tech said quietly, as if admitting to a felony. “I knew the statistical odds. I knew what it would mean…for all of you…for her.”

The toothpick was now burning a hole in Crosshair's pocket but he didn't dare to reach for it. Without delay, the words began to spill out.

“She told me…outright. Not in pieces like you'd expect from her. She just-...said the words…like an adult reading words from an almanac. ‘He jumped. He saved us.’ She was so young. This was before we even escaped Hemlock. Maker, she didn't even cry, her voice didn't tremble. I had to bite down on my tongue to hold back from nearly combusting right there in front of her. I could taste the blood.”

Crosshair curled his fingers inward, the memory lingering far too heavy for him to handle, “I punched a hole through the wall, through three layers of reinforced durasteel…it took seven guards to wrench me from it. They thought I had finally snapped.”

“She grieved you inevitably,” Crosshair said, quieter now. “She tried her best to hide it but there were nights where she just…unraveled. Every day, she waited by her comm and she wouldn't let us touch it…still tuned to Channel 2…she knew the finality of your decision and yet a part of her still believed that the galaxy would bring your voice back.”

Tech pressed a hand firmly into his brow, “She…was never supposed to carry such an immense weight.”

“No,” Crosshair said firmly. “But she did because she’s your sister and because you made her feel like she could be more than just a clone…you made her a person.”

Tech’s jawline tightened, but his chest throbbed with something softer than guilt.

“She was always this…itty bitty thing,” Crosshair continued, his voice thickening, “And yet, stars help me, she held the whole squad together after you were gone.”

“She still does,” Tech confessed solemnly, as if voicing it would make her inevitable departure come even sooner.

“And then you came off that transport ship.”

Tech’s pupils were darts, meeting Crosshair's with vigor. There was something hollow yet remarkably alert in his tired eyes.

“You didn’t come with an announcement. No big speech. Quiet as you always were. Wrecker dropped everything and bolted like a charging rancor. He nearly flattened you. Hunter froze. I’ve never seen him freeze like that, not even in the heat of battle. Echo…he said your name like a prayer…over and over again…it was as if he stopped, you’d disappear again.”

A pause.

“Phee had already gone. She had packed up several weeks before. She said she had work to finish elsewhere and that she couldn’t stay where ghosts still wandered. I don’t think she believed you’d ever come back. Or maybe she did…and that’s why she left.”

Tech stood entirely unmoving. His one remaining flesh-and-blood hand curled in on itself just slightly.

“Statistically speaking, her cutting off all communication is consistent with someone who has made a final decision. One that-...does not include a return.” His voice was thin.

“Likely.”

The silence that followed was deep enough to drown in. Crosshair's composure finally started to fray. When he spoke again, it was quieter, as if saying it any louder might undo him.

“My heart-...I swore it stopped beating altogether…or it was hammering so outwardly I kept my distance just out of fear that the whole island could hear it…although it really didn't matter. Hunter could.”

The memory slammed down like an ocean wave. He let out a breath, slow and shaky. “He didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to. Just looked at me…the way he always does when he hears more than he’s supposed to.”

“But she—” his voice cracked, just a slight giveaway, a small fault in the ice before continuing.

“Omega, she knew.”

Tech could still feel that moment; the crush of sunbeams on his skin after so long underground and the scent of saltwater and woodsmoke in the air. He remembered the shape of her, standing so much older than he had remembered, much taller now but not nearly as tall as him. She didn’t move at first and it was as if her brain needed time to catch up to her eyes.

“She wailed,” Crosshair said. “A sound I’ve never heard from her. Not fear. Not pain. Just raw, unrelenting joy. She ran so fast I thought she might collapse in a heap before she got to you. She very nearly did.”

“She hit me like a meteor.” Tech whispered.

“She buried herself in your chest like she’d finally come home after embarking on a long journey,” Crosshair murmured. “Like the universe had finally apologized for its misdoings…and you-...”

A beat.

“You hardly touched her…”

The words landed like a blow.

Tech’s head dropped, as if the weight of gravity was suddenly pulling him down by his nose. The memory ricocheted with a clarity of surgical precision. Uncomfortable. Uncertain. Overwhelmed by too many variables and stimuli. There he stood, like a man carved of stone, his sister's tears soaking through his tunic, and yet, he couldn't move. It was as if his arms suddenly belonged to someone else.

“I believe that hurt her…deeply…she felt it necessary to keep her distance from that point forward…she told me privately that she feared the man that had returned was not the brother who left.”

An immense lump pulled at the base of Tech's throat but he gulped it down, eyes darting back to the front doorway where Omega had previously exited. The thought of the distance he had unmistakably created made him long to scoop her back up again. To hold fast. To be selfish. To never let go.

“And so…to see you two…just now…like that…it was…refreshing.”

His words were choppy and disjointed. He didn't know how best to articulate the feelings that were slowly simmering from deep within him.

Tech flexed his mechanical arm out into the open air, “I suppose…without my goggles and with all of…this…these augmentations…she couldn’t possibly recognize me.”

“But she did. I knew she would, regardless. Even I was shocked to find that you were still…you. Whatever that meant now.”

Crosshair’s gaze traveled slowly and deliberately from Tech’s bare face, to the polished arm plating, and then lower to his double leg replacements. His eyes didn’t narrow or soften. They lingered.

“Karabast…” he muttered bluntly, but there was no venom in it, just a brittle, unspoken ache.

Crosshair didn’t speak again right away. He just tilted his head imperceptibly. And then, without warning, his eyes met his own trembling prosthesis. No matter how deeply he meditated, the convulsions existed as soon as emotion reached the surface. The symmetry wasn’t lost on him.

Wordlessly, he reached into his pocket, retrieving the toothpick with the practiced motion of a man reaching for a cigarette. A crutch. A ritual. He slipped it back between his teeth, jaw clenching as he bit down. Not out of habit—but need.

They were damaged in opposite ways.

But somehow, standing there like that, Tech’s left and Crosshair’s right, it almost looked like they completed one another.

“It is…fascinating…” Tech muttered, glancing down at their mismatched limbs, “if we were ever to be marooned on a remote system, we could theoretically function as a single unit…a fully intact soldier.”

Crosshair barked a laugh, short, rare in the intensity of the moment, but honest all the same.

“I suppose you're not entirely incorrect. You talk. I shoot. Just like old times.”

Tech hummed in agreement, letting his ear fall to his shoulder, “Although…perhaps our strides would be uneven. My longer, more precise gait doesn’t account for your…erratic limp.”

“Oh, my apologies,” Crosshair deadpanned. “Next time I get caught in the midst of a blaster radius, I’ll request that the shrapnel occurs on your side.”

He gave a small shake of his head, the corner of his mouth twitching—not quite a smile, but close.

“Despite everything though, your voice was still your voice. Hadn't changed a lick. You could've shown up with your entire head missing and I would still recognize you if you still had any semblance of speech left.”

Tech smirked faintly, then looked up at him, exhaust ever-present in his eyes, “Even after all this time, your voice was still your voice. Dry as sandpaper…twice as abrasive.”

Crosshair scoffed. “Please. Yours is still the easiest to pick up on. You panic talk. Like a droid stuck in a logic loop.”

“That…was not a compliment.”

“It wasn’t.”

They both went quiet again.

“It's-...the way you say things. The way you mean them.”

Tech didn’t respond. His brow tensed faintly, mouth pressing into a firm, steady line. Crosshair exhaled and looked away briefly before continuing.

“She is who she is because of that voice. Because you kept talking and teaching and telling her what mattered. You think it was all Hunter? Me?” He scoffed at his own suggestion. “No. Everything Omega is…it’s because of you.”

Tech swallowed hard. Then, with the quietest motion, his eyes lifted. They didn't quite reach Crosshair's. It was almost as if they were trying to find a way through him.

“She still talks in your anxious cadence sometimes,” Crosshair mused, “She tattles off stats when she’s nervous like she's attempting to summon you or something of the sort. It's…precious.”

“I-...have observed.” Tech noted plainly, unable to deny the pride flourishing in his chest.

Crosshair’s fingers twitched at his side. His voice came out low, measured, calculating his exact response, “Everything that girl is...everything she will become…she owes to you, Tech ”

Tech shifted slightly, caught off guard. “I don’t require-”

“I do,” he interrupted, quieter now. “Please…let me say it.”

Tech turned, his body angling away for a second, his heart which was once restful now tunneling sharply into his throat. Before he could protest, he felt it: the firm curl of Crosshair’s arm hooking around the base of his neck, pulling him into a rough hold that felt more like a grapple than an embrace.

It was clumsy.

But it was real.

“And I don't know how I could ever repay you for making her who she is…a crazy, adventure-driven, selfless, intelligent, soft-spoken individual…just like her brother.”

The sudden warmth to his words was the breaking point. It settled deep within Tech's core and it stayed there, unmoving. His breath stuttered once, visible now in the soft shift of his chest. The compliment—the truth—had docked like a ship all throughout him. It was disarming.

His prosthetic hand flexed reflexively, fingertips brushing against the edge of his belt in a bid for grounding. His biological hand hovered awkwardly in the air for a millisecond before it settled—tentative—on Crosshair’s arm, not to push it away…but to acknowledge it there.

“Crosshair…there's so much I want to-”

“Save it.” Crosshair’s voice cracked just slightly as he stepped back, just a hairline fracture, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand that had once pulled a trigger without hesitation.

“I know. Believe me.” Crosshair voiced again, sheepishly.

He swallowed then smirked faintly as if to chase the emotion away with a bit of sarcasm.

“Besides…” Crosshair ran his nimble fingers through his close-cropped hair, “You were always her favorite.”

“That is objectively false.”

Crosshair looked at him, eye glinting, brow raising just a touch as if to challenge him.

“…Mostly objectively false.” Tech noted.

That earned a breath of a laugh. Small, but shared.

And somehow, in the still of the moment, surrounded by scars and silences and the remnants of a war long-forgotten, there came an irreversible shift.

For so long, they'd lived behind walls—built from silence, from fear, from all the things left unspoken. But now, the wall had been breached…not by force, not by argument…

But by her.

By the very person who had taken the best parts of each of them with her.

Because of her, the silence between them no longer felt like an inescapable void.

It felt like a bridge.

A way forward.

And they both took a step across.

[masterjedilenawrites]

Here's To Many More

Clone x Reader Life Day Exchange 2024

Echo x reader | 1.9k words

Content: themes of angst - such as having a difficult year and feeling alone, references to past anxiety attacks, hand scars and tremors, comments about life & death, an almost-kiss, themes of hope and joy at the end

Prompts Used: 

"Breathe. Hi, we found you, just breathe for me, okay?"

"Hey there, take it easy. Your body went through a lot."

generally healing after physical & emotional trauma

Note: Hiya @writersnook11, nice to meet you! Holiday angst - what a fun challenge. I ran with a vibe from a Christmas song that's been hitting me in the feels this season - sort of has a melancholy-turned-hopeful tone to it. I linked it at the end but it's not a requirement to listen, just thought I'd pay credit to my inspiration.

Leaves fluttered and rustled against the pavement as your speeder, contributing to the symphony with its own soft hum, drove over them. The suns setting earlier meant an otherwise bustling neighborhood now lay quiet and peaceful in the dark, adorned in their twinkling holiday lights and warmed by their fireplaces and gathered loved ones.

You drove through the rustling and the twinkling, noticing every detail with an odd, sort of detached calmness. You'd been down these lanes countless times in your life, but it was like it was the first time you were truly seeing everything. All the colors and textures and temperatures. So many homes, full of so many people, living so many lives. There was a whole world out here, outside of your head.

Eventually your own home came into sight. You pulled up next to the first bit of empty curb, just one house away, and killed the engine. The hum of the speeder died down, leaving you in still, quiet air. Cold air. You flexed your gloved fingers, grateful you'd been able to scrounge up a pair for the trip, though your poor, frozen nose hadn't been so lucky. You cupped your hands around your face and took a few open-mouthed breaths to generate some heat. It didn't quite do the trick, so you dropped your hands back down into your lap with a sigh. Of course, you could just run inside and get warmed up soon enough. But that would require energy, urgency, things you'd been in short supply of most of the year. So instead, you lingered. Took your time. Paid attention to the sensations of the world around you and not on exhausting thoughts like running.

Something was tickling your face. You ran a finger across your cheek and pulled it back to inspect the tiny flecks of snow now caught on your glove. You wanted to feel them fully so you gingerly took off both of your gloves, finger by finger, until the skin of your hands was exposed. Hands that looked nothing like your own. You knew they were yours, they moved like yours, they felt like yours, but they didn't look like yours. They were scarred and calloused, palms barely able to flatten out as you held them up in hopes of catching more snow. As predicted, your right one immediately started shaking, unable to hold the position without triggering its tremors. You quickly closed your fist and held it to your chest with your other hand. 

It's okay, it's okay. You squinted your eyes shut, trying to keep your breathing steady and not to let your mind wander in all the usual dark places. It's okay. Just breathe.

Just breathe...

Your own inner voice started to shift into the voice of another. A firm, steady voice you had been reaching out to in your memory more often these days.

Breathe. Hi, we found you, just breathe for me, okay?

You cracked your eyes open, half expecting to see his face just as you had in that closet. Panicking. Overwhelmed. Unable to catch your breath until he'd grasped your shoulders and coaxed you into calming down. When you'd opened your eyes and met his, so full of care and understanding, it hadn't mattered that half the party was crowded behind him, staring and whispering nervously. All you had been concerned with was following his gentle instructions, trusting that he'd lead you to safety.

Opening your eyes this time, you of course were met with the darkness of the night, broken up only by the tiny flakes of snow drifting in it. You were still clutching your hand to your chest, but that little well of anxiety that had threatened to rise up had been quelled. You were breathing just fine.

You were fine.

Alone, but fine.

A soft crunching of leaves grabbed your attention. You peered down the sidewalk and saw someone approaching. It could have been worrisome, a mysterious dark figure headed your way you at night. Except you could clearly see one of the limbs ended not in a hand, but a scomp link. There were very few people it could be, and only one given the context.

"Ah, I was hoping it was you! Saw some head-beams, thought I'd come out and see if anyone needed help."

"Hey, Echo." You hadn't known his name when he'd found you hiding in your friend's closet all those months ago, and now you knew him as a friend, too. Perhaps not as close as the ones you'd known since childhood, but he was a good one all the same.

You briefly considered jumping out of your seat and meeting him on the sidewalk, slipping an arm through his and guiding him back inside where it was likely so much warmer and merrier. That's what old you would have done. Before... well, before you became the present you. The one that struggled to think quickly enough to make decisions and just wanted to get through one day without feeling like dead weight.

Thankfully Echo didn't skip a beat. He walked right up to your speeder, opened the passenger door, and slid into the seat next to you.

"You alright?" he asked with a half-smile. But he didn't wait for an answer, knowing you hated the question. "It's been a while since I've seen you. You're looking a lot better."

You couldn't help but return a small smile of your own. You knew he wouldn't lie to you. It felt good to hear you didn't look like such a mess anymore.

"I'm feeling better," you responded.

"Oh?"

"Not great," you quickly caveated. "But better. Fine. I feel fine."

Echo nodded. "I'm really glad to hear that. And I'm really glad you're here. We weren't sure you'd make it."

You were pretty sure you knew what he meant but decided to take the opportunity to indulge in some dark humor.

"What? That I wouldn't come tonight? Or that I wouldn't be alive for another Life Day?"

Rather than smack you upside the head for such a comment, like all of your other friends surely would, Echo merely leveled a look back at you that made you smirk in amusement.

"You know very well I was referring to your annoying habit of canceling plans at the last minute. How many times now have you said you'd be home soon?"

You merely rolled your eyes, refraining from comment. You knew that he knew that you had your reasons for being away for so long. He was only teasing.

Echo reached over and set one of his hands on top of yours. "That said, you did worry me a few times. So yes, I'm really glad you're here. In both senses of the word."

His smile made you feel warm, and the way he was looking at you lit a small but happy fire within your chest. Perhaps that's why you didn't notice how cold your fingers had gotten in the night air without gloves. Though with his hand over your own, Echo could certainly tell.

"And on that note, let's get you inside. Everyone else will be excited to see you, too."

Echo scrambled out as you slowly got your own door open. You shoved your gloves into your coat before they could fall off of your lap as you stood.

"Here, let me," you could hear Echo calling as he hurried around to your side of the speeder. Ever the gentleman. Unfortunately, in his haste, his foot caught on something, maybe a branch or a crack in the pavement, and he went stumbling forward. You were already on both your feet and quickly reached out to help steady him, bracing your arms underneath his.

"Hey there, take it easy. Your body went through a lot this year, too," you smirked a bit as you both caught your breaths from the unexpected activity.

Echo chuckled. He was embarrassed, you could tell by the bright pink flush to his cheeks, but your comment seemed to lighten the mood. That, and the fact you were now standing very close together, still holding each other up. Echo blinked down at you, awkward and confused at first, and then relaxing as his gaze stayed in yours. That quiet stillness of the night you'd been thinking about earlier made its way back. Only now you weren't so alone in it.

Just when a sudden, pleasant thought entered your mind, that maybe he would kiss you, Echo cleared his throat and shifted back. He withdrew his scomp quickly while his good hand softly dragged along your arm as it fell away. A line of goosebumps surged in its wake, causing you to shiver, and unfortunately reminding Echo why he had rushed over here in the first place.

"Time to go inside," he nodded matter-of-factly. And you found you couldn't argue. It was getting pretty cold. So you fell into step beside him as you finally walked the final steps back home.

A wave of warmth and light and laughter hit you as the front door opened. Somewhere between the group hugs and the smell of baked goods, you'd forgotten why you'd been so anxious to come back here all those times. All of your loved ones were here, every single one. Seeing their faces, hearing their voices, was now filling a part of you you hadn't realized had been so empty for so long. The thought would have delighted you had you had the energy for such a strong emotion. So instead you settled for serenity. A calmer, quieter version of happiness. And though you weren't matching everyone else's liveliness, you still found yourself able to keep up with their conversations. You helped where you could, being mindful of your limits but never dwelling on them. And you even joined in on singing an impromptu carol.

Echo stayed close by you throughout the evening. You weren't sure what had happened, or almost happened, between you earlier, and you suspected he was still thinking about it too as you caught him gazing the same way at you several times. You'd be here for a few more nights, as would he, so you were sure there'd be other opportunities to figure things out. Tonight was for catching up and keeping warm and finally putting some of your deepest troubles to bed.

Oh it had been such a long, long year. You'd been tested in ways you never knew possible, each seemingly worse than the last. Your heart often sat heavy within you and several times you'd wondered if you could keep going.

And then... you did.

You pushed through one trial and into the next tribulation, again and again, and eventually you made your way here. To this very spot where you suddenly, finally, felt good. Your body had been through it, but you weren't broken beyond repair. You'd experienced far more than your fair share of grief, but you hadn't lost everything. You weren't thriving, but you also weren't hanging by a thread. You had hope. For the first time in a long time, you were allowing yourself to look ahead.

And toward the end of the night, when you'd all gathered around the fireplace and were holding mugs aloft in a toast to the season, you had your chance to declare your intentions for the future.

"Happy Life Day!" everyone cheered together.

"Happy Life Day," Echo whispered next to you.

You smiled up at him and clinked your mug against his.

"And here's to many more."

Song Inspo: Merry Christmas, Here's to Many More - Relient K

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[the-bi-space-ace]

See, I hold back when I write. It could be far angstier than it is. I could be handing out forehead kisses left and right. Forehead kisses as someone cries and bleeds after a battle. Delirious from blood loss and pain and needing reassurance. Forehead kisses when they know their squadmate is going to die. A parting gift. One last way to comfort them, to remind them they’re loved.

I’m just saying I could make things more painful than they already are.

[oceansssblue]

Another rare pairing for y'all, I think this two are really cute together, one of my favs! Might write more about them in the future, but for now, buckle yourselves up for a little intense oneshot!

Xx, Blue.

"FAN BOY" – HUNTER/ECHO 💔💖

WARNINGS: CROSS BEING A BIT JEALOUSY-TOXIC, MENTIONS OF PHYSICAL INSECURITIES, FIRST KISS & HAPPY ENDING.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Why don't you tell Echo why you really wanted him to join our team back then, mm?"

The words echo heavily in the silence of the cockpit of the Marauder. Tech stops tipping on his datapad and glances up, surprised; Wrecker gulps and plays with his own hands nervously. Crosshair is glaring at Hunter; and Echo turns to look at his sergeant as well, his face filling with aprehension and uncertainty.

That's the thing with Crosshair, isn't it? He doesn't handle his trust issues very well, and inmediately attacks everyone, even the people he loves, upon a new threat. Hunter's been spending more and more time with the ARC lately; discussing strategies but also having long quiet talks in their free time, simply enjoying each other's company when nothing is expected from the two of them. And Crosshair is seing this developing attachment as a dangerous competition for the sniper's own attachment to Hunter. Hunter doesn't know how else to reasure him that he has space on his heart for both of them. Cross will always be his brother. And Echo... Echo...

Echo is terrified of what he's about to find. He knows Crosshair's words can cut deep if they want to; and he's got that sort of dangerous glint in his eyes now. He's going to push the whole Batch to a drifting point. Echo... Doesn't think he's ready to hear this. He has a guess of what he's about to say; and knowing Hunter only offered him a spot in their team because he pitied him, that... That would break him. It hadn't been so long ago when Echo felt nothing more than a pathetic mix of metals and scrapped bones. Half-droid. Half-human. No longer a reg, a proper clone... His sense of identity had been swipped in a blink, and among the nauseating guilt of having had his mind used to kill other people, other vods... It had been extremely dificult to carry on. He had worked a lot on it, though. He had moved on. Day by day, his confidence and capacities as a soldier, as a person, had returned. Echo prays the trooper's next words won't bring all of it down.

"Shut up, Crosshair" Hunter warns, with a sharpness rarely seen on him. "You've got no fucking right".

Echo winces. It's definitely nothing good if Hunter reacts like that. As a leader, he's use to mediate; to be patient, remain calm.

Crosshair smirks. He ignores Hunter's death stare and gives Echo a smug grin. A promise of destruction. The spark of a fire.

"Surely Echo is smart enough to figure out how much of a fan boy you are by now" he continues, Hunter's standing figure not quick enough to shut him up. "I'm just not sure if he thinks this is a recent development. Wether he knows that you only offered him that spot on our team after Anaxes because you couldn't help but take the chance to have your little crush close to you".

It all happens so fast; Crosshair's confession, and Hunter's harsh slap on the sniper's cheek. The rest of the Batch are left staring at them, doumbfounded.

"You just can't help but pull people into your own missery, can't you" Hunter hisses, cheeks flushing with either embarassment or rage. "You're such a dickhead, Crosshair".

Hunter rushes out of the cockpit; not daring a single glance towards the others. Crosshair huffs, stands up, and leaves as well; taking the opposite direction and walking out of the Marauder into the hangar they're stationed in. Wrecker and Tech sigh, perhaps more used to his; but Echo remains silent, in shock, trying to process what happened between the brothers.

"What... What does Crosshair mean with "crush"?" He asks, hesitant, still not able to believe he has heard that word coming out of the sniper's lips.

It must have been sarcastic. Some sort of joke to make fun of the two of them.

Wrecker scratches the back of his head, his eyes flickering over the room before answering.

"Hunter has always liked you. From before Anaxes, I mean" he whispers, and Echo answers with a lost blink.

Tech decides to throw some light on the subject; since the cat is out of the bag now.

"Wrecker's affirmation is correct" he agrees, and explains "As the leader of the squad, Hunter and I have studied millions of strategies for all sorts of usefull variants in battles. Our trainers encouraged us to learn from other's experiences, and when you made ARC and started to help Captain Rex with them, we studied those too. In adition, Hunter finally started to show his first signs of sexual maturity and attraction; so it was naturally easy for him to fall for you. Even in the distance, without a proper meeting between the two of you, he grew to admire you. To like you. Considering all of this, I'd say Crosshair's use of the words "crush" and "fan boy" to be decently accurate; though I can understand Hunter's anger about him revealing this private information without his consent. I also agree on Hunter's observation that Crosshair tends to hurt others when he is unhappy as well".

Echo is having trouble to think. This is too much to take in; his mind can't quite understand that Hunter –handsome, sexy, competent Hunter– had all this feelings for him burried for so long. He would have never guessed. He is not naive enough to not have noticed that they were getting closer lately; but Echo had only had hoped that maybe, in the future, the sargeant would grow to think of him as a possibility. But not now. Not that he already did. That he always had. That just...

"For the record" Tech continues, holding his index up. "I don't believe Hunter only offered you to join us solely based on his previous attraction to you. He believed you to be a good addition to our dynamic; you were a seasoned experienced soldier, an ARC no less, and that would always be valuable for the team. He asked us and we all agreed on it".

Echo is honestly relieved to hear that. He'd prefer to have been picked for a pretty face than pity; but it was nice to now it hadn't been based on just that. Echo's panick disolves into stunned confusion and surprise.

"And... Crosshair implies Hunter still feels this way for me now, after all this months?" He finally manages to ask, heart speeding up.

There's a new feeling surging inside of him; hope.

"I wouldn't catalogue it into a "crush" any longer" Tech hums, thoughtfully. "After so many experiences together, and the way I've seen you both interacting over the weeks and the few comments he has made about you to me, I'd say it would run deeper than that. Hunter is also not a teenager anymore; the word "crush" sounds too childish for what I think he feels for you now".

A rush of excitement and warmth flows through Echo's veins. This has to be one of the few times he is this glad that Tech is always overly concise and explicit. This information soothes so many worries, gives him so many chances to work on...

"Thank you, Tech" he pats his shoulder. "I think I'm gonna' go see how Hunter's doing now".

Before either Tech or Wrecker has had the chance to say goodbye, Echo is already leaving the cockpit into the direction of the Marauder's common bunk room.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hunter is sprawled down on his bed, laying down with his face pressed dejectedly against the pillow, and Echo can almost hear him floating in his own shame. He guesses he'd react similarly if someone had decided to blurt his secret out to the world so suddenly.

"So you liked me, then?" He decides to ask, straight to the point.

The time for hidding and making up excuses –both for Hunter and himself– has ended. If he has a chance, Echo is not going to waste it.

The sergeant groans, pushing his face further into the shield that is protecting him from the outside world.

"You were hot and smart" he reluctantly mumbles, his muffled voice barely audible if not for Echo's implants. "Of course I did".

Echo's heart swell. He can't believe this is happening; that this is real. It almost feels like a dream; those he invented to try to comfort himself at cold nights full of dark memories and fear.

"And you still do? Even if I now look like... This?" A tiny sliver of uncertainty inevitably makes it's way to Echo's mind, and it's enough to finally pull Hunter's face out of his refugee.

"You look different, but you're just as hot and smart now" Hunter replies, a surge of fierce confidence acompanied by a defiant tilt of his chin, almost as if he's daring Echo to contradict him.

Echo feels a pleasant tingle on the base of his spine. Hunter likes how he looks –how he is– right now. Hunter think he's... hot. Echo feels aceptable to look at most days; to know he is admired and desired is... Electrifying. He hadn't really felt like this since Skako.

Echo takes the liberty to slowly walk towards Hunter; carefully sitting in his bunk besides him.

"And you've run all the way down here to...?"

Hunter huffs.

"To not throw a punch at Crosshair's face, mainly, and because I didn't know how to behave around you after he esentially confessed for me" he deadpans.

Echo chuckles quietly.

"You did slap him" he points out, and Hunter shrugs.

"Deserved. He should be glad. A slap hurts less than a punch".

Echo laughs; and it's such a rare sight that Hunter can't help but smile looking at him. His eyes turn soft, his own smile fond; and Echo suddenly realises how this kind of expresion has always been reserved for him.

He catches one of Hunter's hands in his and infuses as much sweetness and warmth in his voice in response.

"I know it must have been embarassing. Perhaps humiliating" his thumb caresses the man's skin and Hunter shivers staring at him. "But I'm somewhat glad this happened, even if in this circumstances. Because I've also been liking you for quite the time now, and I wasn't planning on confessing anytime soon".

Hunter's breath hitches; and he moves to sit straigther in the bed, so that they're almost face to face.

"Why not?" he asks, fingertips caressing Echo's face, almost reverent.

The ARC exposes his own vulnerability.

"Because I didn't think there was a chance someone like you could like someone like me" he whispers, and the words send darts to Hunter's heart.

He sighs and traces a thumb over Echo's lips.

"I don't know how to make you understand how I feel" he softly presses a peck to the trooper's sharp cheek, pale skin reddening inmediately. "You're gorgeous, Echo".

The soldier shivers and melts against Hunter's quick embrace.

He wants to share so many things with him; ask questions, confess some. But he suddenly feels exhausted, and he lets the shorter man pull him down so they're both laying on the bed, legs and arms entwined in a sweet embrace. Echo pushes his nose against Hunter's neck and smiles, giving it too a small peck. The sergeant shivers and answers with a low, pleased hum; and soon sleep falls upon the both of them.

When Crosshair slips into the room in the middle of the night –Tech and Wrecker sleeping soundlessly too in their respective bunks– and sees two shapes on Hunter's bed, he stares for a few seconds before silently climbing into his own and resorting to rest as well. Over the next few days and weeks, when he sees them briefly kissing and caressing each other here and there, he stays peacefully quiet as well.

THE END.

[eohippuu]

Redrew my post finale drawing a while back

[fanfictasia]

Chapters: 1/6 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CT-9901 | Hunter & Emerie Karr, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Emerie Karr, Emerie Karr & CT-9902 | Tech, Emerie Karr & CT-9903 | Wrecker, CT-9904 | Crosshair & Emerie Karr, Emerie Karr & Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Emerie Karr/Original Male Character(s), Phee Genoa & Emerie Karr, Emerie Karr & Sami the Pantoran, Eva the Iktotchi & Emerie Karr, Jax the Mirialan (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) & Emerie Karr (minor), Baryn the Tatlafar (Star Wars) & Emerie Karr (minor) Characters: Emerie Karr, CT-9901 | Hunter, CT-9902 | Tech, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-9903 | Wrecker, CT-9904 | Crosshair, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Original Characters, Sami the Pantoran (Star Wars), Eva the Iktotchi (Star Wars), Bayrn the Tarlafar (Star Wars), Jax the Mirialan (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Phee Genoa Additional Tags: POV Emerie Karr, Emerie Karr Needs a Hug, CT-9902 | Tech Lives, CT-9902 | Tech is CX-2 | Sniper CloneX2, Protective CT-9901 | Hunter, Hurt CT-9902 | Tech, Good Sibling CT-9903 | Wrecker, Protective CT-9903 | Wrecker, Sweet CT-9903 | Wrecker, CT-9904 | Crosshair Angst, Good Sibling Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Family, Sibling Bonding Summary:

After Tantiss’s destruction, Emerie is left trying to find her place in the galaxy. Her brother’s missions are simple, but her own is the hardest of all – trying to learn what it means to be a person when she’s been deprived of that freedom her entire life.

https://www.wattpad.com/1521105968-wipe-away-the-tears-for-me-chapter-1-arrival

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14445748/1/Wipe-Away-The-Tears-For-Me

[sadiecoocoo]

TBB Fanfiction: Wrecker is the Bestest Brother

Relationships - wrecker & Hunter, Wrecker & tech, Wrecker & Crosshair, Wrecker & Echo, Wrecker & Omega

Characters - wrecker, tech, hunter, echo, omega, crosshair, Lula

Tags/warnings - no warnings apply, 5+1 things, fluff and angst, platonic cuddling, brotherly affection, sibling bonding, Hunter has sensory processing issues, hurt Hunter, protective wrecker, soft wrecker, emotionally intelligent wrecker, good sibling wrecker, Crosshair has PTSD, Crosshair angst, Crosshair needs a hug, hurt Crosshair, tech is autistic, tech needs a hug, hurt tech, echo needs a hug, hurt echo, echo has ptsd, omega needs a hug, hurt omega, nightmares, other tags to be added

Summary - Wrecker is a lot more emotionally intelligent than people give him credit for. Sometimes he even notices things that his brothers don't. And most of the time, he's happy to help his brothers with anything they need.

five times Wrecker comforts his brothers and sister, five times they do the same

(Title is subject to change)

Chapters - 7/10

Current word count - 8,067

Link -

[lifblogs]

Fandom: The Bad Batch Rating: Mature Chapter Word Count: 3060 Summary: On their quest to find Mount Tantiss, the Bad Batch run into an unexpected adversary who is hunting Omega. During an altercation it is revealed to Hunter that he is none other than Tech, their dead brother. Primary mission: bring him home. Once they do there are excruciating challenges they did not expect. Is Tech just meant to suffer? Can they fix his body and bring his mind home too? WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Gore

[librababe99]

Echoes of Her: Part Three

A/N: Hey y'all ! I'm back with the final part of "Echoes of Her" ♡ I seriously want to thank everyone for your comments, reblogs and interactions with this mini series. I loved being able to write this and bring these ideas to life! Again, y'all mean so much to me...so THANK YOU! Stay tuned for more soon ♡ - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ Word Count: 1738 CW: Angst, love triangle, hurt with comfort (Part one) (Part Two)

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The days following your conversation with Logan were a torment you hadn’t anticipated. Each hour seemed to stretch endlessly, the pain of your unresolved feelings gnawing at you from the inside out. The mansion, once a place of comfort and familiarity, had become a labyrinth of haunting memories, each corridor a reminder of what you had lost—or perhaps never truly had.

You moved through it like a ghost, your presence almost ethereal, as if the very walls knew you were clinging to a love that had slipped through your fingers. Every corner you turned, every room you entered, was steeped in the past—a collection of fleeting glances, whispered secrets, and moments stolen from time, all of which now seemed like distant echoes of a life that no longer felt like your own. The spaces that had once been filled with the warmth of his presence now felt cold and empty, as if the mansion itself mourned the uncertainty that had settled between you and Logan. And as you wandered through this once-familiar place, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were trapped in the shadow of something you could never fully possess, lost in the remnants of a love that might have never truly been yours to begin with.

Logan kept his promise. He gave you space, but his presence was everywhere: the scent of his cigar lingering in the air, the faint echoes of his voice in the halls, the emptiness that seemed to follow you, reminding you of the distance between you. It was unbearable, the constant ache in your chest, the gnawing fear that you’d never find your way back to each other.

The nights were the worst. The quiet darkness left you alone with your thoughts, with the haunting image of Jean in Logan’s arms, with the memories of the life you’d imagined with him. Sleep eluded you, your mind racing with questions that had no answers.

And every night, without fail, you found yourself standing outside his door, your hand hovering over the wood, your heart pounding in your chest. But you never knocked. You never found the courage to face him, to ask the questions you were too afraid to know the answers to.

But tonight was different. Tonight, the silence felt suffocating, the emptiness too much to bear. Your heart ached with the need to see him, to hear his voice, to find some semblance of closure, whether it meant saying goodbye or finding a way forward together.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and knocked on the door. The sound was soft, hesitant, but in the quiet of the night, it echoed like a gunshot.

The door creaked open, and there he was, his eyes widening in surprise as they locked onto yours. He looked as worn and tired as you felt, and the sight of him made your heart twist painfully in your chest.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan nodded silently, stepping aside to let you in. The room was dimly lit, the shadows dancing across the walls as you entered. It was the same room you’d left him in all those nights ago, but now it felt different. The air was charged with something unspoken, something that made your skin prickle with anticipation.

He closed the door behind you, the sound of it clicking shut sending a shiver down your spine. You turned to face him, your heart hammering in your chest, your hands trembling at your sides.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began, your voice shaky. “About us. About everything.”

Logan didn’t respond, his eyes locked on yours, his expression unreadable. The tension between you was palpable, a thick, heavy thing that hung in the air, pressing down on you both.

“I’m scared, Logan,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I’m scared that no matter how much we try, we’re always going to end up back here. Hurting each other, tearing each other apart.”

He took a step closer, his gaze softening as he reached out to gently touch your arm. “I’m scared too,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But I’m more scared of losing you.”

Your breath hitched, the raw emotion in his voice cutting through you like a blade. “I don’t know how to do this, Logan. I don’t know how to be with you when I know… when I know she’s still a part of you.”

He winced, the pain in his eyes almost unbearable to see. “She is a part of me. Always will be. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. I’m tired of running from this—from us. I’m tired of living in the past.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “I don’t want to be second best,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to spend my life wondering if I’m just a consolation prize.”

Logan’s hand moved to your cheek, his touch gentle as he wiped away your tears. “You’re not. You never were. I’ve been a fool, and I’ve hurt you in ways I can never make up for. But I’m here now, and I’m telling you that you’re the one I want. You’re the one I need.”

His words hit you with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of you, your breath catching in your throat as you stared up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. But there was none. Only raw, unfiltered truth.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I can keep loving you when it hurts this much.”

Logan’s grip on your face tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a soothing gesture. “Then let me help you. Let me prove to you that I’m not going anywhere. That I’m choosing you.”

You hesitated, the fear still gnawing at the edges of your heart, but beneath it, there was something else—a flicker of hope, of longing, that refused to be extinguished.

“I want to believe you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I want to trust you.”

“Then do,” Logan urged, his voice rough with emotion. “Trust me. Trust us. We’ve been through hell, but we’re still standing. That’s gotta mean something.”

His words hung in the air, the truth of them settling deep in your bones. You knew he was right. Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, you were still here. You were still fighting.

And maybe that was enough.

Slowly, tentatively, you nodded. “Okay.”

Logan’s breath escaped him in a rush, relief flooding his features as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. You melted into his embrace, the warmth of his body chasing away the cold that had settled in your heart.

He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything. I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me.”

You closed your eyes, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions—fear, hope, love—all tangled together in a messy, beautiful knot. “I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life apologizing,” you whispered back, your voice soft but firm. “I just want you to be here. With me. For real.”

“I’m here,” he promised, his voice rough with sincerity. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And as his lips met yours in a tender, lingering kiss, you allowed yourself to believe it—to believe in the possibility of a future where the echoes of the past no longer haunted you, where the love you shared was enough to overcome the pain.

The kiss deepened, the taste of him filling your senses, grounding you in the present, in the reality that he was here, with you, and that you were choosing each other, despite everything.

When you finally pulled away, your breath ragged, your heart pounding in your chest, you looked up at him, your eyes searching for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. Only love, raw and unfiltered, staring back at you.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Just stay.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the last remnants of fear and doubt dissolve like mist under the warmth of his gaze. The walls you had built around your heart began to crumble, replaced by a quiet, unwavering certainty. With a gentle but deliberate motion, you reached up, your fingers trembling slightly as they found their way to his face. The rough texture of his stubbled cheek was a comforting reminder of his strength, of the man who had weathered so many storms yet still stood before you, willing to face the tempest that had raged between you both. Your thumb traced a slow, tender path along his jawline, as if trying to memorize every detail, to anchor yourself in this moment of fragile peace. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, your voice steady, filled with a conviction that surprised even you.

As his arms wrapped around you, drawing you close, you let yourself melt into the embrace, feeling the solid warmth of him against you. The tension, the pain, the wounds that had festered between you for so long seemed to dissipate, leaving behind only the raw, undeniable truth of your connection. His arms were both a refuge and a promise, holding you in a way that spoke of comfort and commitment, of a bond that had been tested but refused to break. Despite the scars that marred your past, despite the echoes of hurt that would always linger in the shadows, you realized that you had finally found your way back to one another.

This time, there was no hesitation, no lingering doubt. You knew, with every fiber of your being, that this was where you were meant to be—in his arms, with him. The journey had been long and painful, marked by loss and longing, but it had led you to this moment, to a love that had survived the worst and emerged stronger. As you held each other close, you silently vowed that this time, no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

You weren’t letting go—not now, not ever.

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Taglist: @littledebbieinabigworld @sasuke-kun0 @mrs-schoenheit @daily-evanstan @aliisa-jones @danicl25 @shortbk @hynjjine @nonamevenus @yawnetu @enashift

[ohheycallmek]

Fractured Fault

Written by @ohheycallmek

Word Count: 7,888

Mando'a Phrase Glossary:

Sarad - Flower

Di'kutla - Useless

Ner kar'ta - My Heart

Vaabir jate'shya - Do Better

Vod - Brother

Summary: Falling fast in the storm, five pairs of arms rise to catch her

Content Warning: Fluff, Slow Burn, Platonic Relationships, Anxiety, PTSD, Overstimulation, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Mutilation, Self-Deprecation

Author's Note: WOW. What began as a one-off passion project became the formation of a fully-fleshed out OC. My intention moving forward is to continue her story in slow-burn segments. This takes place in an alternate universe in which Omega does not exist, but instead, Clone Force 99 comes across a master code-breaker named Alexei (Or LXE16 - her agent name). This story is very Tech/Crosshair - centric, with moments of the others in between. I added a bit of Mando'a, so if any of it is incorrectly translated…Maker, don't hate me, blame Google lol. I can't wait to share more of her with you all!

[I'm working on a post that goes into quick facts, relationships, and a backstory, so please stay tuned!]

I hope you enjoy! xx

☆ Page Dividers by @cafekitsune & @moosgraphics ☆

Alexei knew it was just over the horizon. The curdle of a wave beginning to plunder on an otherwise soundless shore. Without delay and without warning, it would make itself known to her. It would come in the form of an incorrect instruction given during a briefing that would cost them time and resources, a frayed wire noticed in the midst of an almost complete repair, or the appearance of a single misplaced sock in the laundry bin. It was all a matter of when…and who would be there when her body would finally collapse in on itself like it was demolition day.

The Marauder was practically silent upon her waking, aside from the gentle moan of the engine manually pulling the vehicle through the vastness of hyperspace. Alexei's bare feet hit the durasteel with a dull slap as she climbed out of her bunk and made her way to the kitchenette. Tech was already seated at the small island in the center, a steaming cup of caf between his glove-less hands.

“Good morning, Alexei.” He nodded curtly, pulling his goggles off and rubbing residue from the lenses with the hem of his top.

Alexei's smile was short and already waning, her voice climbing out like it had burrowed somewhere deep inside of her, “Uhm-hghm,” She cleared the rasp from her throat, “G’morning, Tech.”

Tech's thumb came to trace around the rim of his drink, his other casually wiping a crust from the corner of his eye, “I did not expect you to wake so early. You are usually the last one up, seeing as you prefer your late evenings to run infiltration routes.” He gestured to the caf-maker, “Had I known, I would have prepared a cup for you as well.”

Alexei tightened her lips, giving a soft grunt of acknowledgement as her hands haphazardly searched the fridge for Bantha milk. Her hand found it secluded to the back of the ice box, but when she pulled it out and inspected its contents, she found that it was much lighter than she remembered it being the morning prior.

Empty. Save for a single, pathetic slosh. Her eyelid did a subtle twitch.

“Dank farrick," Then sharper, “Wrecker!”

Alexei slammed the carton into the receptacle, the cardboard practically rejecting out of it with the force of her throw.

“I hate that he always does this! Drinking from the damn carton and leaving a spit left like it's a little gift!”

Behind her, Tech’s brow knit with partial concern and his mind sought a response but came up empty-handed.

A bunk curtain flung open behind them followed by the smooth thump of socked feet hitting the floorboards. Crosshair appeared, shirtless and smirking like the universe had already handed him a one-off joke. He arrived just in time to deliver the punchline.

“Well, well, starshine," He drawled, voice bright, arms stretching overhead with theatrical nonchalance, “Aren't you cheerful today.”

“Can it, nerf-herder. I am not in the mood.” She redirected her attention to the space that stretched between them.

His discarded shirt slung lazily over the chair across from Tech like it lived there. The carelessness for simple cleanliness and general upkeep of the ship made her skin begin to crawl.

“And stop leaving your dirty kriffing blacks around,” She hissed, throwing the muddled up top in his direction, hitting him square in the chest, “Please.”

Crosshair was used to Alexei’s sharp remarks, welcoming them even, but noting the way in which her eyes seemed to drift elsewhere as the fabric of his shirt slammed him with more force than necessary, he could tell that something was lingering just beneath the surface. He dare not ask. The decision not to push further was an easy one to make in the early morning.

Alexei ignored his presence then, rummaging through the cabinets for something to sweeten her beverage but all efforts were futile. She slammed the cabinet door.

“Whatever. I guess I’ll just have to take it black today.” The words caught in her throat as she began to pour her cup.

Crosshair made his way over, brushing past her to grab a ration bar from the shelf just above her head. The space between them was narrow…too narrow…and his elbow barely slid against hers.

In an instant, the hot caf missed the mug and sent it spewing all over the countertop, creating a river that began to flow down to the floor and onto her bare feet.

“Ah! Dammit-!”

She recoiled, taking a sharp, seething inhale.

Crosshair spun rapidly, blinking as though someone had sent a fist through his gut.

“Kriff…I-...hey,” he said, voice instantly losing its teasing edge, “That wasn’t-...I-...I didn’t mean to do that, Alexei. Are you alright?”

Alexei froze, her breath steaming out from between her teeth in shallow gasps.

“I’m-...fine.” Her voice trembled as she pulled her leg up to inspect the damage on the skin of her toes.

“You’re not,” Crosshair replied quickly, eyes flickering from the mess on the countertop to the control of her clenched jaw. “You’re trembling.”

Tech stood then, eyes surveying the situation before intervening. His tone was calm, but the urgency behind it was unmistakable. Crosshair took a step back, his arms partially raised as if Tech was about to pull the pin out of a grenade.

“You burned yourself. Let me see. I can bacta patch it if-”

“I said I'm fine! Stars, Tech!” She said, wincing away from him.

He placed a steady hand over the hill of her shoulder, his fingers subconsciously tracing a pattern, “-Alright, alright…here…let me assist you for a moment. Go. Sit. You may have the rest of my drink if you would like.”

She shrugged his advance away, the weight of his hand feeling more like a hefty bolder as opposed to comforting manipulation.

She spoke on an exhale, nearly blinking back tears, “No…no, Tech…it's…it's okay. Really. I'll just brew another cup.”

Crosshair shot a hand up, his voice unusually softer, “Let me do it, Alexei. This was my fault.”

She swallowed and nodded curtly, “Thanks, Cross’...”

Tech pulled a pile of disposable clothes from the holder and began to clean up the spill. A noise escaped Crosshair's throat, resembling a growl as he ripped the cloth back and ushered Tech away with a snarled ‘I'll clean it’.

That evening, the squad members assembled for dinner. Alexei sat like a hunched eoipe, prodding at the suspicious-looking meat with the tip of her fork. It wiggled. Her stomach turned, no longer hungry.

Wrecker slid into the bench beside her, practically tipping it over with his enthusiasm. He was grinning widely, double-fisting bread rolls like twin viroblades.

“Hey, ya’ can't still be mad about earlier, can ya’? What's that sayin’? Don't cry over spilled milk?” He chuckled, a large, callused hand slamming down onto Alexei's shoulder like an orbital strike.

Echo cleared his throat, “Wrecker, I would suggest-”

“Oh, come on, ‘Lex! Why the long face? It looks like someone shoved a thermal detonator up your-”

“Wrecker,” Echo warned from across the table, a small snort of laughter escaping his nose.

Wrecker chuckled and nudged Alexei with the point of his elbow, “Ya’ know I'm just teasing, girly.”

Alexei narrowed her gaze, trying but failing to stifle the flare in her brow, “It's…it's fine…about the milk, I mean…I-” A breath, “I've just been…tired.”

Echo leaned forward, a faint smirk playing on the corner of his lips, “Tired, huh? I'm pretty sure you’ve been tired since the day we met you, sarad.”

“She was tired of you the day we met her,” Crosshair noted without missing a beat, lean legs swinging with grace over the bench as he took a seat.

Hunter didn’t look up from the contents on his tray, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him, noting that he was listening in.

Crosshair's quick wit earned a low whistle from Wrecker. “Ooooh, smooth one, Cross’. Are ya’ flirting or looking to get decked, Echo?”

“Echo couldn’t flirt his way out of a wet bag.” Crosshair muttered.

“Excuse your words, vod, many have said I've got charm,” Echo replied, feigning offense with an open palm to his chest, “It’s subtle. Refined.”

“About as subtle as a boots on the ground bombardment."

His trigger finger wasn't Crosshair's only rapid, lethal weapon.

Wrecker's laughter bounced off the walls, reverberating heavily and shaking the table. Tech shuffled his way to Alexei's opposite side, acutely aware of their proximity and being more than overly conscious in an effort not to jostle her as he sat down.

“If we're being truly realistic, we are all tired…of hearing you chew, Wrecker.” Tech retorted, his humor dry as he lobbed a butter packet across the way with a subtle flick of his fingers.

Wrecker halted mid-bite as the condiment popped open against the metalloid surface of his armor. The others held back laughter.

“Hey! No fair!” He barked out, fist against the table.

Tech began to settle his attention on the meticulous organization of his silverware, “Consider that a preemptive warning. No one wants to hear your grotesque gnawing. It is as disruptive as it is deeply unsettling.”

Wrecker smeared the grease away with the side of his thumb, “You're lucky I'm merciful. I could've beamed you with a baguette.”

Moments like these would always fade into routine, but now, cracking a smile might as well have been citrus to an open wound. The back and forth rolled on without Alexei. She looked up slowly, eyes following a path that went beyond time, her voice cutting between the conversation and cacophony of forks.

“Do any of you ever stop talking long enough to realize not every little thing has to be made into a joke?”

Instantaneously, Wrecker’s grin faltered.

Echo’s brow creased, “Hey, we’re just messing around…trying to lighten the mood some..."

Alexei swallowed the pit in her throat, shaking her head as if taken aback by her own words.

“I-...yeah…I-...sorry. That was-...wrong of me.”

The rest of the dinner she sat in silence, and while they spoke around her, the corner of the room cast a shadow where her voice should have been. They noticed her absence.

To her surprise, the tragedy of the caf spill was not the tipping point. Nor the joking that directly followed that evening. It was a slow erosion, the epicenter of it becoming more and more solidified as the layers were peeled back.

The next morning, the holotable cast a pure blue light across the room as the plan regarding their next mission was detailed. Tech began to describe the infiltration route, his tone clipped and efficient, as it always was.

“If we time our entrance to match the patrol rotation here,” he began, sliding his finger along the highlighted path, “We can enter the compound undetected, retrieve the device for Cid, and get out of there safely if Alexei is able to decode the-”

CLANG.

A tool slipped from Tech’s belt and hit the floor with a violent crack, the metallic sounded sharply as it ricocheted.

“Maker!” Alexei jolted upward, a hand clutching something invisible toward her chest.

All heads turned.

She sat in an upright position and her spine lengthened, each column pulled taut. A rose-colored blush began to creep beneath her cheeks, breath caught, eyes widened.

Tech blinked slowly behind his goggles. “Apologies,” he noted, bending to retrieve the wrench, fingering his pocket, “I…hadn't realized there was a hole in this belt.”

Alexei wrenched her reading glasses off and pressed an open palm over her eyes, soothing the headache that was beginning to radiate from her neck to her temples, “Ugh…no…it just…caught me off guard, is all.”

Wrecker raised a brow. Crosshair’s gaze lingered on her, unreadable. Echo shifted in his seat but said nothing. Hunter didn’t look away as he listened to the increased pounding of Alexei's heart from across the room.

Alexei cleared her throat and smoothed her hands over the front of her shirt as if to iron out the moment. “Can we just-...move on?”

Tech hesitated, nodding once before continuing, “Right…as I was saying…”

The hologram resumed its slow rotation, but the tension didn’t ease. Alexei stared straight ahead, her brain attempting to will herself back into composure as her shaking hands fit the lenses over her eyes once more.

But even as she tried to focus, she could feel it…the heavy weight of their eyes, the heat pooling inside of her, and the echo of that damn sound ringing like blaster bullets to her ears.

She wasn’t used to flinching like that.

Not with them.

Hardly ever.

Hunter lingered near the edge of the corridor outside the briefing area as Alexei, Echo, and Wrecker exited. The door had barely slid shut behind them when Hunter’s voice resounded.

“She’s cracking.”

“She’s exhausted,” Tech corrected immediately, forefinger scrolling absently on his datapad, nose dug right into it, “Her threshold for unpredictable stimuli is likely at its limit.”

Crosshair's arms snaked around his torso as he let out a strong huff of breath, back pressing into his chair, knees splayed, “And what, we walk along the broken glass barefoot until she inevitably decides to give us shoes?”

“No,” Tech declared, “We do not treat her like an issue. We adjust in the same way we did upon your return…or when Wrecker couldn't handle loud reverberations immediately following Raxus…this is-...a different kind of injury…with the same need for care.”

Hunter nodded, knowingly, “She'll get better with time. She requires patience to steady out. You know better than any of us what that's like, Crosshair.”

Crosshair's gaze flit between the scarred tips of his fingers and his shirt pocket. He plucked a toothpick out and wrenched it between his already sewn shut jaw. The earthy flavor of balsa against his tongue calmed his nervous system.

“She isn't me…she isn't hiding it well.”

“No,” Hunter said carefully, “But the situations are similar.”

Crosshair stood slowly, shoulders taut, pushing his seat away with the rubber sole of his boot, “I didn’t ask for this comparison, Hunter.”

“We are simply drawing parallels, Crosshair. It’s not the same as comparing your respective plights. It is, however, close enough to deserve consideration.” Tech placed his datapad face down against his lap, looking over at him now.

Crosshair’s eyes narrowed into the floor and then flit away, “Whatever she's hiding, it isn't palpable. You can't just box emotions and send them off like they have structure. They always come back tenfold.”

His own words earned a shift, a flicker of something sharp in his eyes. Not anger…something much colder, almost self-deprecating.

“You can’t fix her.”

Hunter exhaled slowly, arms still folded. “No one said her issues needed fixing.”

Crosshair’s lip curled imperceptibly, “Waiting for her to burst sounds like a Hell of a risk, Hunter…if someone doesn't do something…if she snaps mid-mission-...”

“She won’t,” Tech cut in, suddenly much louder, more defensive, “She’s been holding herself together at a high standard. It is unlikely to get to that point.”

“She’s a loose end…” Crosshair said, quieter this time, “And I know damn well what that looks like.”

The others stared, perhaps waiting for the next pin to drop.

“When people start watching your every move with concern, when every mistake you make gets filed under ‘classified information’, and when no one says it out loud, but they stop trusting you-...”

There was a beat of silence.

“Do you think we stopped trusting you?” Hunter asked, spine hunched, thumbs nervously twiddling.

Crosshair refused to rebuttal. The toothpick cracked between his teeth, audible beneath the constant hum of the ship and the silence that followed his words.

“Assist us in making sure she doesn’t fall down that narrow path of uncertainty.” Tech offered.

The skin on Crosshair’s hands grew pale with the strength of which he curled them.

“It isn't space she needs,” Crosshair growled. “She requires intervention. Immediately.”

“The situation is-...delicate. We can't rush her like we would a hazardous fault in a mission.”

“So what's your idea then?” Crosshair cut in, eyes spliced, “Make her tea? Give her a warm blanket and a holodrama to watch?”

His voice cracked with bitter sarcasm, “That’s no plan. That's wishful thinking.”

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then he turned away, taking a few steps toward the door, a pit in his stomach the size of twin suns.

“Stars,” he muttered. “You’re all so damn hopeful…”

Then.

“It's "sickening" '

They were on a ration run when the floodgates opened. Nothing about the monotonous chore was innately complicated. A handful of crates required reorganization after restocking and the hangar was loud with transport engines whining in vicious cycles.

Alexei’s shoulders felt as if they had been strung up by wires all morning. Every sound began to overlap another, lingering, echoing in the space between her ears. The overhead fluorescents buzzed like a swarm she couldn’t quite swat away.

She was at war with a crate much wider than her arm span could handle. It wasn't heavy, it was awkward, like it was purposefully being uncooperative to make her look weak. All of a sudden, Echo called her name sharply from across the way.

She bolted upward, eyes widening like sauce pans.

“I said 'watch that crate', Alexei, the corner is caving in!” Echo barked.

“I heard you the first two times!” She snapped, spinning to face him.

“Are ya’ sure ya’ don't need some help, ‘Lex?” Wrecker's voice, ever present and always cheerful, was much louder in the echo of the massive hangar, “I can grab that for ya’!”

She groaned, “Wrecker, no, I'm fine. Why do you always treat me like I'm made of Hoth ice? Stars, I can handle myself!”

A beat of silence.

Then from behind her, a low, muttered voice uttered between the soft, splintering wood of a toothpick.

“...You can't fool us, sweetheart ”

Alexei's pupils blew as she spun around to dig into Crosshair's sloped form leaned lazily against the side of the ship.

“What did you just say?”

Time stopped. His shoulders shrugged to his ears carelessly and wordlessly.

“N-no…no no, you know what you said.” The words tumbled, a half-hearted laugh escaping her throat, bitter with disbelief.

“You heard me.”

“I don't care. Say it again. I dare you.” She pressed, the words beginning to summersault from her lips.

“I said what we've all been thinking,” His voice was rock solid, “You're making a show out of all of this.”

Her blood surged hot and high. “A show? Are you serious?”

“Perhaps if you acted like you were part of this team for once this week, spoke up instead of internalizing, and stopped throwing tantrums like a child-”

“Stars, Cross’...” Echo seethed on an exhale, his hand coming to shield his eyes as if to hide from the explosion that was imminent.

Alexei's fingers curled, joints clicking as they met the force of her palms.

“Tantrums? You think that’s what this is?”

“I think you’re tired, overworked, and Hellbent on proving something no one even asked you to prove. You’re alone, hanging to a spool of thread and pretending it's a strong, structured rope that we all have our hands on,” he sneered, toothpick twitching at the corner of his mouth. “One wrong tug and you’ll bring the whole squad along with you.”

Her breath hitched and she winced back as if his words had grown arms and vollied into her midsection.

He didn’t stop.

“You intend to be useful? Then stop walking around like you're bound to burst. Sooner or later, you’re gonna combust, and when you do… I-...I hope you're standing far away from the rest of us.”

That was it.

The finality of the breakage settled in as Alexei's body began to freeze. Her response became locked in the upper part of her chest. Hunter delicately placed a crate down by his side, making his way to them as if on cue.

He voiced gently but over a massive bridge of uncertainty, “Hey…it’s okay. Let’s just-...let’s reset now. Ignore him, Alexei. It's-…no big deal.”

Suddenly, the empty space around her became a black, swallowing void, closing in from every conceivable angle. Her brain began to fight against itself, the chaos of it was dizzying as a hollow pit formed in her stomach. The bile curdled in her throat, screaming to find a way out. Her heart fled.

Alexei dropped the crate without deliberation, hitting the edge that was near the breaking point, causing it to shatter like transparisteel, and sending ration bars flying through the air. It narrowly missed the front end of her boots in the process. She hardly flinched.

Her hands coiled into her chest, fingers folding like flimsiplast in rain.

“I-...” She began to choke, a hand fluttering to her throat, “I’m-...I need-...I don't-...”

Hunter’s voice was a single notch above a whisper as he took a stride forward.

“Hey, hey…Alexei...sarad, it's-…alright.”

Her body began to autopilot.

“I-...I’m sorry…I-…I have to get out of here.”

She swiftly turned the opposite direction, bolting as quickly as her legs would allow, leaving the mess abandoned.

“Alexei?” Echo kept his voice narrow as Hunter's gaze lingered for a moment, senses buffering.

Wrecker swallowed hard, clasping his hands in front of himself, “Kriff…is-...is she okay?”

“No. No, she's not.” Echo drawled.

Tech's upper lip curled with sincere displeasure, eyes sharpening behind the yellow hue of his goggles. His jeer was direct, unstoppable. A single finger gawked in Crosshair's direction like the twist of a blade to his chest.

“Your commentary was irrelevant and unnecessary. There was positively no need to speak so malevolently to her. We spoke of this. You knew better. Vaabir jate'shya.”

The shame rained down like an unyielding storm on Kamino. Crosshair refused to look to his brothers, finding the pattern on the tiles to be significantly more captivating to the naked eye.

“...Di'kutla.” Echo muttered, head hung low in frustration as he walked away.

Before Hunter could interject, Tech's voice cut in again.

“Allow me to handle this.”

His teeth were knit, already jogging in the path Alexei left behind.

There she sat, wedged behind the storage crates in the corridor, shoulders curling in like melting wax. Her chest rose with panicked, shallow breaths. The walls were beginning to sandwich together like a compactor. Her skin felt too tight against her ribs and the only true escape from the sensation was to fight against herself.

Her fingers dug crescent indentations into her sweating palms, the hills of her knuckles aching as they became taut against the bone. Without delay, she slammed her hands down to her thighs.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The motion was rhythmic but even still the feeling lingered. It wasn't enough. No…not nearly enough. Her next course of action was an open palm against the side of her temple.

It was a sharp, searing pain but she knew what would feel far more rejuvenating. Her fingernails itched, climbing into the crook of her elbow and then creating a route to her forearm. She dug inward, a raw, unadulterated desire to feel something that only she could control.

She scratched long, frantic swipes at her skin. Angry, pink lines began to rise in welts, with some already breaking the surface.

Tech froze and for half a second as he rounded the corner, air refusing to enter his lungs as he peered down at her. Watching her unravel in front of him was like being caught in the very center of a silent, slow motion explosion. It petrified him, rightfully so. Navigating a minefield of emotion was never his forte.

Finally, he moved forward.

He crossed the space in two single strides and dropped to his knees in front of her. A firm hand closed in like a cuff around her wrist, halting her mid-motion.

“Alexei. Enough.” His voice was unmistakably Tech, but his tone was undeniably stronger as the pads of his fingers pressed inward.

She flinched, knowing that he was already rapidly calculating, notating the erratic spike of pressure against her veins. Her wild eyes found his and she immediately fought against the strength of his hold.

“N-no. Let go of me! Let go of me NOW!”

“I said enough,” His other hand gently found her other arm, guiding both of them down to her lap. “I will not allow you to do that. I will not allow you to desecrate yourself. Whatever this is, whatever you are doing, it will not provide a solution to your issue.”

The words landed like gasoline to the fire that had already spread. She continued to struggle.

His voice dipped, lips hardly motioning, “Alexei-...”

His throat cinched.

“Ner kar'ta…look at me.”

He hadn’t planned to say it and he hadn’t even fully understood why the words tumbled out in the first place. He had never spoken like this before. The phrase hung in the air; raw, unguarded.

My heart.

He knew she was unfamiliar with Mando'a but he dared not translate. He dared not break down the fragility of the moment by an over explanation when he knew for certain she wouldn't even ask. He was lucky that the constant pet-names juggled around the squad would always evade her. She was ignorant. Blissfully so.

She scowled, mind spiraling as she spit back, “You don’t understand! You never understand!” She pulled with every sheer ounce of strength, but his grasp remained unbroken.

“I do understand,” Tech continued, his voice taking on a softer, more controlled tone, “But your vitals are indicative of intervention. Your pulse is erratic, elevated to approximately 186 beats per minute. Your respiratory rate is at 28 breaths per minute. This behavior is symptomatic of emotional distress and you risk syncope. You may slip into unconsciousness. Steady your breathing.” His eyes locked onto hers.

She didn’t want to hear it. Without a single warning, she lashed out, pulling free and hitting his chest with a force that felt immediately alien to her.

“Don’t-” Her voice fractured, her head shaking back and forth rapidly as she jabbed a single finger in his face, “Do NOT analyze me like that. You-...”

The first blow was soft, almost uncertain. The second felt more like a threat.

She hit him again.

And then again.

Once she started, she just couldn't quit it. Her fists landed sporadic, uncoordinated blows to his chest, each stronger than the last. They were wild and without rhythm, fighting against him like a caged creature.

He didn’t stop her.

Not right away.

“You always do this!” Her voice was as sharp as an ice pick, trembling with fury, “You break everything down into pieces, like I’m just another problem of yours to be solved. Like data to track. You-...you don’t get it! You never will! I can’t think! I can’t breathe! I-...” Her words fractured, raw emotion spilling out between sobs. “I-...I hate you…I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

The prick of unwelcomed tears threatened his waterline but refused to spill onward as each hit landed like a tidal wave against him. A reflex of emotion pinched his throat but he held his composure as he always did. The intensity running through his mind was foreign. She pushed on, screaming curses to the sky, her words becoming completely indiscernible as the seconds ticked on.

“Alexei.” His voice finally resounded like a command, a plea, stopping her clean in her tracks, “Please.”

With that, she collapsed; a melted heap against his solid frame, her shoulders heaving up and down as she sought solace. She practically barreled through his blacks, Tech letting out a soft “ohmph” as she gripped the sleek silk like a lifeboat. He froze for a breath, arms lifting halfway in partial confusion. His brain fired signals rapidly as he sifted through every potential protocol, every point of recognition he could conjure up.

With no prior experience, his body motioned regardless.

With awkward calculation at first, his arms circled round her stiffly, palms hovering before slowly pressing into her back. He readjusted his body, anchoring closer, one hand shifting to cradle the back of her head and the other bracing her shoulder like a ray shield.

He had never done this before. He had never been this; a harbor, a refuge. None of that mattered now as a silent click of understanding settled deep into his core.

Her pulse rushed like restless wings against his own chest, her breath, hot and alive, tucked beneath his chin, feathering in hills across the skin of his collarbone. This moment was not another experiment to conduct or a hypothesis to prove. She was here, hurting and undeniably real, and every frantic beat of her heart told him the only evidence he'd need.

He swallowed the lump that stuck to the walls of his throat, his fingers slowly reaching up to run through the magenta splays of hair hanging loosely in front of her eyes. The words that left his lips began to flow like a stream, seamless and unending.

“Life will throw punches at us, Alexei, that much is evident. They come at times where we least desire them and they are often far from fair…but in these moments, we do not crumble because we are weak…we crumble because we are human.”

He paused, the steam of breath simmering from the depth of his lungs grounding her further.

 “And it is in those moments that we find our true strength.”

Her fingers tugged his top in desperation and the fabric began to stretch. His gloved hands found hers and pulled them away, gently settling her digits in his palms.

“You are not broken. Stars, if ever you believe that you are, allow me to be the one to pick up the pieces.”

For a long moment, there was silence, aside from her hiccuping breaths.

“My-...my chest…it…it hurts…” She whispered finally, “I-...I don't know what happened…I just-...I've-...”

He didn’t rush her. He didn’t interrupt. He just held her with no true intention of letting go unless she did first.

“I keep seeing it, Tech…” Her voice fractured.

His heart stuttered.

He knew.

“That mission on Naboo a handful of cycles ago. When...we got ambushed, I-...

Time held its breath.

“I thought we were all going to die. I watched you...your body…you collapsed…Echo’s scream in my comm, I can still hear it like it was yesterday…Wrecker was turning pale…the blood loss…Hunter and Crosshair were nowhere to be found…I—I couldn’t move. I was stuck. I just…kept staring.”

Tech exhaled slowly, resting the flat of his chin against the top of her head as he pulled her as close as she could physically get.

“But you cannot disregard the fact that it was you who got us out safely. You managed to unscramble the door codes in record time, signal a flare to find Hunter and Crosshair, and conduct a pathway that would allow us to leave entirely unbeknownst to the enemy. You left no stone unturned. You brought us home.”

“But what if I can’t do it next time?” She choked out, her face partially obscured from his chest, “What if-...what if I can't come to? What if we lose someone and it's because of me that it happens…?”

His grip around her shaking form tightened, a steady stream of ample pressure emanating from within.

“We face the worst of the galaxy every day…but your ability to act swiftly in the heat of the moment…that is why you're the strongest of us…Hell, the most intelligent of us, and that sort of sentiment is coming from an individual who is programmed as such…you are a survivor, Alexei...it is because of you that we will never know failure.”

He pulled back just far enough to look into her eyes, the palm of his hand cupping around the curve of her cheek with rare sincerity. Her head tilted right into it.

“And you will not lose me or anyone else, for that matter…not if I have anything to say about it.”

Alexei placed her hand over his, forcing his hold to guide her head back down to his sternum. Her eyes fluttered closed, moisture sticking fast to her lashes as the sound of Tech's fragile heart pulled back any semblance of time. She hadn't accounted for this, for him to be the one to come running when she fled.

“Tech…?” Her voice was a crackled whisper when she finally broke the tension.

“Yes?”

“Why-...why you?”

“Hm?”

She pulled back to find his eyes. They were warmer than she had ever remembered them being.

“Why were you the first to come for me? Why not Hunter? Or Wrecker? Echo, even?”

Tech's fingertips rolled a soothing pattern across her sweat-slicked forehead, it was as if he was mapping her moles like star charts, committing them to memory in case she vanished.

“I came because I was able to calculate your precise location. I deduced that you wouldn’t make it far. I ultimately knew that you longed to be found. You are not…slick.”

Alexei raised a brow, Tech's exhale sounded almost like a laugh.

“That-...was not a comforting observation. My apologies.”

She nodded, “It's alright…I-...” Her voice clipped, “Thank you.”

His eyes glistened as if the subtlety of her gratitude had hit harder than she had intended, his hand stilling against her scalp for a moment.

He cleared his throat accordingly, “You mustn't thank me. You required immediate assistance. I did what was necessary.”

She nodded, exhaustion quickly catching up to her. Tech eased back, the feeling of her in his arms now as natural as breath as his chest became her pillow. Her lids gained a weight of their own, heavy as dusk itself. At last, she slipped into a completely dreamless sleep, her body unfurling as tension finally gave way like a bridge.

Tech watched her for a long moment, storing every line of her face in his mental data bank. It had never occurred to him how much smaller she was to the rest of them, her petite, five-foot frame feeling far more delicate than it ever had. In his arms, her tiny feet hardly reached his shins and the breadth of his torso practically swallowed her like a purgil. He closed his own eyes, guarding the stillness between them like the most precious calculation he had ever thought to make.

The overhead bunk lights had been dimmed, curtains partially slid open.

Alexei lay curled on her side, knees pulled toward her chest like a closed fan. Her breath had slowed, the weight of exhaustion clinging to her chest like a soaked blanket. Her body still trembled occasionally as she settled into the aftermath.

The silence was broken only by the subtle sound of boots grating against the metal - tight deliberate turns at her side. She didn’t need to look. She had committed the stride by heart, the tempo of it far too obvious opposed to the rest.

Crosshair.

“W-Where's Tech…?”

The sound of his pacing stopped abruptly as his eyes immediately fell away from her.

“I-...”

His voice cracked. He swallowed.

“I was worried. I came to look for you both. You must've fallen asleep in his arms when I found you. He gestured for me to take you back to the ship. You didn't even flinch. Out cold. I told them all to give you space,” Crosshair murmured, self-consciously.

She didn’t respond and she didn't move.

Without invitation, he stepped closer. Close enough to sit down in the bunk across from hers, one leg bent, elbow resting lazily across his knee…but his posture wasn’t careless, it was cautious. Watchful.

“I-...I didn't mean to-”

“No…I know you, I know how you are…don't go apologizing on me now. If anything-...I-...I should be the one apologizing…to you.”

She blinked, startled by his declaration. Admitting to his wrongs was a rarity, the emotions behind the act were foreign to him. She made note of the discontent in his features as he spoke.

“I was-...too sharp. Back there.” He murmured. “Too quick to speak, too fast to snap back. You were already unraveling and I-” He stopped, jaw tight, breath caught like it was trying to climb past the armor of his throat.

“You’re not a burden, Alexei,” He said finally, low and firm, “You’re not soft…or weak…or any of the things I made you feel.”

A beat.

“You and I both know…I'm not very good at this…the softness…but you deserved grace when I didn't give it to you.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose. “The truth is, what happened…what you experienced just then…I've experienced it myself…the noise, the light, the voices in your head.”

The spit Alexei swallowed down stung as it slid. Her breath hitched, fearful that the sound of it would overlap his words.

“I’ve had those…moments,” He continued, eyes still creating distance between them, “After missions…sometimes during…anything can trigger it…a sudden sound, a feeling in my chest…and it hits just as strong as blaster fire.”

Alexei’s lips parted slightly, the familiar ache building a fire of recognition behind her ribcage.

Crosshair finally looked up, the glaze over his irises finally finding hers, “Burnout. Overstimulation. PTSD. You’ve been hiding it all.”

She turned her face away. “I-...I just don’t want to be the liability. On Naboo…I froze…I've never done that before…”

A hush fell between them before she continued.

“I…I'm just so selfis-”

“Karabast, don't you dare say that word, Alexei.” His tone was sharper than a gaffi stick, “I will not have the most important member of our team throwing that word around.”

The regret sunk in almost immediately. Alexei hung her head low but Crosshair was quick to reach forward, two fingers pulling her chin up before she even had a shot to look away.

His tone didn’t elicit anger. It held a fierceness that began to show more than an ounce of protection in him towards her.

“No, you look at me, kid.”

Her gaze rose to meet his, guilt beaming past her pupils.

“You’ve been carrying more than a rancor’s weight but don’t you ever call yourself that heinous word for breaking under the pressure. Don’t cheapen what you’ve endured by acting like it’s a flaw in your programming.”

Her lips parted to say something but the words began to retreat.

“Do you really think that being overwhelmed makes you a liability?” He asked, voice low and steady, “It makes you human. You froze because nothing in the entire galaxy could have adequately prepared you for how quickly that mission turned to chaos…not because you failed us.”

Her chest tightened. An unsolicited tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. Crosshair leaned back slightly, but he refused to take his eyes off of her.

“You are not selfish, Alexei. You care too much…and that’s why it hurts.”

Silence stretched again, but it was different now. Less suffocating. Shared. For the first time in several cycles, the quiet felt like peace as opposed to pressure and Alexei sunk right into it.

Crosshair's typical sharp-eyed stare softened inch by inch. Without further delay, he motioned forward, deliberately wrapping both arms around the expanse of her shoulders. Tech's hold was elegant…practiced even. Crosshair’s was surprisingly solid…real.

Alexei stiffened for only a moment, taken aback by the action until she had no choice but to melt into him. He smelled of crisp soap and the rugged tang of armor polish. She took in a steady inhalation.

“Don’t get used to this.” Crosshair muttered, the corner of his lip upturned in a smirk that he couldn't quite hold back, the sensation of her in his arms softening his rigidity.

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good, because I have a reputation to maintain around here.”

Alexei's head found the flat of his pauldron, the metal cool beneath her temple. Still, she drifted lower, drawn by the steady, muted warmth of his body and a sound emanating between them. Her cheek came to rest against the left of his chestplate.

For a long moment, she said nothing, listening intently.

“…So…the scary sniper has a beating heart after all.” She spoke barely above a breath as she pressed into him.

Crosshair sighed deeply, fingers delicately beginning to spool around her hair, tucking it behind her ears, “I wouldn’t bet on it most days.”

“I guess I just assumed…”

That earned a small huff of breath from him as he subconsciously curled closer around her.

“That I was hollow?”

“That I'd never be let in close enough to notice you were more human as opposed to a blaster-wielding war machine.”

“Tech’s the one with the long-winded comfort speeches,” Crosshair went on, “Wrecker's hugs could crack a rib. Hunter and Echo are better at mature rationalizations. Me? I show up, say one or two things that sound intellectual, perhaps tease you gently, and then I vanish like smoke before things get…messy.”

Her lips twitched against his shoulder.

“And yet, here you are, holding me,” She murmured, unable to deny the pride blooming in her chest, “And oddly enough, you haven't teased.”

He went still for a beat.

“Dammit,” He cursed, “I knew I had forgotten something. I’m off my game. I should’ve called you a walking stress grenade by now, or made fun of your dramatic Bantha milk monologue.”

“Hm. I've heard better…you must be off your rocket.”

“Don’t remind me.” He let out a dramatic sigh, pressing the stubble of his cheek into her hair, “I’m slipping. It must be all that bonding nonsense you keep dragging me into.”

Her shoulders shook, not from fear, but from holding back uninvited laughter that was beginning to bubble over.

Crosshair tilted his head, peering down at her with curiosity.

“There…right there…” His gloved finger traced the line of her lips, “Was that a smile I saw? Try again. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“I can't…” She sniffled wetly.

“And why not?” He asked.

“...Smiling shows the enemy your vulnerability.” She murmured, her dry tone mimicking his intentionally.

He chuckled, “Taking advice from the wrong vod, are we? Besides, we both know I wouldn’t choose just anyone to waste my annual hug quota on."

Finally, her walls caved in as she let out a laugh. It was trivial, barely there, but it was real all the same.

“There it is,” He drawled out with a triumphant smirk, “Beautiful.”

She wiped what was left of the tears on her face, a subdued smile tugging on her upper lip, “You’re really not as cold as you make yourself out to be.”

He raised a single brow, “Careful now. That sounds dangerously like affection.”

She grinned now, pressing a solitary finger into him, “And ‘beautiful’ isn't?”

“Quiet, you.” He spat back, mussing her hair for good measure.

They sat in that moment much longer than intended, Crosshair timing each of her breaths as they were drawn, the action moving her torso against his soundlessly. It was then that he truly understood it, the desire to hold on to something for once. It gave him a clarity he hadn’t had before, shifting his perspective.

All of a sudden, a soft knock sounded against the metallic frame of the door, breaking through his reverence.

“I-...know Cross’ said to give you space…” Hunter's voice was low, border-lining a whisper, “But I-...we…just wanted to be sure that you were settled.”

When Alexei peeked up, her eyes latched to Hunter’s but her peripheral caught wind of the rest of them just a few footfalls away.

Tech's much taller frame loomed just behind Hunter, his expression quietly processing through the glare of his lenses. Echo hovered beside him, quiet and observant, his scomp holding his weight against the framework. Wrecker lingered farther back, wringing his hands in that anxious, fidgety way he always did when he wanted to help but didn't quite know how to. His eyes were downturned.

Alexei's lips parted, but words were lost, a soft, broken sound escaping from the pit of her throat instead. Tears began to create puddles at her lower lash line. The stillness was emotionally weighted, but they were willing and ready to catch her if she fell again.

“Guys…I-”

Despite his hesitance, Wrecker was the first to cross the room, his huge biceps wrapping with such gentility around both Alexei and Crosshair that it was almost imperceptible. Remarkably, Crosshair reciprocated, steadying his hand to place over Wrecker's forearm, not to usher him away, but to acknowledge him. Tech stepped in then, almost awkward in his precision. The cool, clammy skin of his palm soon found a home against the back of Alexei's neck, the other arm creating a bridge. Echo followed suit, another piece sliding in with quiet grace, save for the metallic clink of his prosthetics.

Hunter moved in last, kneeling in front of them all, his thumb finding the tears free-flowing down the apples of Alexei's cheeks and brushing them away with a single, clean swipe. He leaned inward and pressed his forehead to hers. She let him.

And there, in that stillness, he heard it.

Alexei’s heart, erratic and uneven, keeping time with the turbulence inside of her. Crosshair’s was measured, deliberate, each pulse like a decision being made resolutely. Wrecker’s was loud and deep, each beat thumping through the frame of his chest in a solid, reassuring cadance. Tech’s was faint, rapid, relentless, as if it was trying to keep pace with the ever changing world around him. Echo’s was soft, steady, unwavering with a quiet certainty that everything he was, he would always be, no matter the weather of time.

They overlapped in his senses, an arrhythmic symphony colliding in one fragile instant.

It should’ve been chaos, but somehow, it was beautiful.

Hunter’s voice broke through, “You don't have to say anything, Alexei…not now…not until you're ready.”

Wrecker shifted closer, his deep timbre rumbling against her back, “We’ll hold the line for you, girly.”

Echo nodded, his human fingers skimming her sleeve, “Rain will always pass.”

“Statistically,” Tech’s voice trembled despite his persistent, analytical nature, “The odds of you facing this alone…are exactly zero. I ran the calculations this time. I-...am never wrong.”

A sound of contentment escaped Alexei’s chest, half-sob, half-laugh, as she looked upon the troops encircling her like a whirlwind.

No other sentiment was necessary. No expectations lingered. The only entity existing in that moment was the warmth and presence of unconditional love. The endearing spirit of a family holding her like a day's final light before nightfall.

It was in that light, she knew she would soon come home. The storm inside her evermore outnumbered.

[originalcollectionartistry]

SOS

Hey all! Here is the long awaited Echo fic! I made it very angsty cause I feel Echo would be a little ashamed of who he became after his time with the Techno Union and wouldn't have contacted reader. Also it's my headcanon that Echo has his equipment and that he just lost his legs at the hip. So in my head he has his full reproductive and excretory systems.

And yes I based some dialogue of off ABBA's SOS hence the title. If people want a part 2 or another Echo fic, let me know!

CW: mentions of echo's torture, hurt/comfort, heartbreak, angst reconciliation

Word count: 2588

Enjoy lovelies!

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There was only one day. One day in particular where you could pinpoint when you heart shattered. When you lost all ability to love and be loved. That fateful day when Fives and Rex came to Senator Amidala’s rooms and asked for you. When you asked them where Echo was and saw their eyes lower. When they handed you his helmet. When they told you Echo didn’t make it out of the Citadel. That he wasn’t coming home.

You remember collapsing on the ground, sobbing. Crying and screaming as Padme held you close, whispering nothing and everything; that you would be okay. Giving you all the comfort she could. That with the help of General Skywalker and the clones, they’d throw a memorial for him, to give him and you peace. Clones may have been discouraged from having relationships with civilians but much like Anakin and Padme, the 501st didn’t care much for rules and regulations.

That fateful day, 2 years ago. It seemed so much longer then that. After the memorial, you shut your heart off, locking it behind a prison more impenetrable than any Citadel. None of your lovers ever compared to Echo. It was why they lasted only a night. And as the war ended, Padme died, and the Empire took over, you found yourself seeking any company less and less.

Eventually, you found yourself working as a clerk for a mechanic shop on the lower levels of Coruscant. You moved yourself from the top levels down to around level 20 below. As the Empire became more prevalent in their presence, you saw clones less and less. Oh, sometimes you saw Ahsoka, but after the Battle of Mandalore, you never saw her again. What surprised you is that Ahsoka connected you with a couple of mechanic sisters, saying you had a place with them. You took the offer and started working with them, seeing more and more of Rex and other clones. It was nice seeing Fireball, Nemec, and others again.

Until it wasn’t.

You were taking stock of parts and rations when Rex pulled in. You smiled and waved, expecting to see more rescued and recruited clones but your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw a clone come from the ship that looked far too familiar.

His skin was much paler than you remember it being, his cheeks sunken in almost. He was missing an arm, having a scomp to replace it. He had a headpiece wrapped around his skull, but it was him. Echo. Your Echo. Who you thought, who you were told, was dead.

You walked over slowly, giving Rex time to stop you but he never did. He watched you approach, clipboard in hand, expecting you to ask what supplies he needed for his next run. Instead, you handed it to him, asking for him to fill it out and find you later. You briefly glanced at Echo before turning on you heel and rushing to your rooms. Trace called out to you, but Gregor shook his head. He knew you needed space.

“What was that about?” Rex asked. “I thought she’d be happy to see you.”

Fireball looked over to Echo. “Yeah. The whole kriffing army knew you two were a thing. What, did she reject you after you joined the Batch?”

Echo looked sheepish, rubbing his neck, and looking away.

“Actually… I never called her.”

“WHAT?”

“Why the hells not?”

“Vod, she was heartbroken!”

Echo received quite the reprimand from Rex, Gregor, and Fireball that night. Filling him in on how you were so broken that you asked General Skywalker to hold a memorial. That you quit being Padme’s handmaiden. You rejected every single romantic suitor, clone or otherwise. Kriff, she even rejected Fives and Kix! And all they wanted was to take her out drinking to help you move on and find someone else to take your mind off him. Once the Empire took over, you shut down.

Echo’s heart broke with every word his brothers spoke. You shut yourself off from the world; a world you were once enthralled and curious of. A world you had once insisted was good if we just brought a little more love into it. Now you were jaded, cold and calculating; only showing warmth to those you deemed worthy of receiving it.

“No wonder she didn’t want to talk to us! You were alive and didn’t tell her!”

Echo looked at Gregor with defence hard in his eyes. “You all knew and didn’t tell her! Why put all the blame on me?”

Rex wacked Echo across the back of his head. “Because di’kut, we weren’t the ones dating her. That was you!”

Echo rubbed his head where Rex hit, knowing they were all right. He was the one dating you, he was the one who was planning to propose, and he was the one who disappeared. Echo felt awful for putting you through the hell he did. He wanted to make things right. Introduce you to the Batch and Omega, take you to Pabu, and hopefully settle down after all this was over.

Rex eventually found you later that night, scribbling notes to send to Senator Chuchi, hoping to aid in her campaign to give clones the humanitarian rights everyone had. He sat the clipboard on your desk, hoping to draw your attention.

“Thanks Rex. I’ll restock tomorrow.” You said absently, not noticing the datapad.

Sighing, Rex pulled a chair towards you and sat beside you. Putting his hand on top of yours, he turned you to face him. He could see the remnants of tears on your face plain as day. Your cheeks were flushed, your eyes were red and puffy, and he saw bits of tissue in the corners of your eyes from your wiping. You were deflated. The fight was nearly gone from you. This was your last straw.

“You knew,” you whispered accusingly. “You knew and didn’t tell me!”

Tears started flowing again, sobs racking your body. You fell into Rex’s chest, the plastoid hard against your head. You started screaming at Rex brokenly, asking how could he keep it from you? Why didn’t he say anything? Why did Echo say anything? You were there! Waiting for it all to be a bad dream and have Echo come home to you like normal. You stayed up late, wishing, hoping, you’d hear the telltale dragging of boots to your door and to see Echo in the doorway wanting to collapse next to you in bed.

Rex took it all. Every hit, every accusation, and every tear. He knew Echo was on the other side of your office door, hearing everything. Your heart had taken a toll, and this was the consequence of that. He assured you that he thought Echo would reach out once he felt comfortable in his new body. He took you through the events that led to Echo coming back and how he was a cyborg now. His body held more cybernetic enhancements and replacements than human parts. The Techno Union had done quite a lot of damage to him and his body.

“You have to understand mesh’la. He was hooked up to so many wires and had no legs. We didn’t know if he’d live if we disconnected him. He lost a lot of limbs in the explosion at the Citadel and the Union used his mind to counter our strategies. He was like death personified when we found him.”

“I would’ve loved him regardless!” you cried. “Legs or no legs, scomp or no scomp, I would’ve taken him back!” Tears flowing free onto your shirt, you struggling to take big breaths. “I would’ve helped him… I wouldn’t have cared what he looked like or who he became. As long as he was the same caring and passionate man I knew.”

You slumped further into Rex’s chest plate. “He doesn’t love me anymore… does he?”

Rex wished he knew. Echo seemed to still love you but wouldn’t let anyone in on that information. Gods how Rex wished he knew to help you through this. He helped you up and led you from your office to your bunk. Echo followed several steps behind, watching Rex hold you up as you shuffled alongside.

Rex tucked you in as best he could, helping you into a more comfortable shirt and turning away when you took your bra off to give you privacy.

“Thank you Rex.”

Rex nodded, patting your head before leaving you be. He met Echo outside your door, looking into his vod’s sad eyes.

“I really kriffed up, didn’t I?”

Rex clapped Echo’s shoulder before pulling him to the makeshift eatery the Martez sisters created for the clones. They both needed a glass of spotchka.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the weeks went by you saw Echo more often. You had to give it to him, he was trying to reach out, but your heart was closed off. His sudden return into your world threw you and you didn’t know how to handle that. You still loved him, but he never reached out to let you know he was alive. You couldn’t abide by that. In social settings, he spoke of his squad. The squad that absorbed him after his time in Separatist hands. You listened intently, while trying to maintain your look of disinterest. Clone Force 99 sounded like a wonderful group of clones, and you were grateful Echo had a family to call his own after all he went through, and you hoped to meet them one day.

After Rex suggested moving the base to another planet, you went with. Apparently, you kept things more organised than Rex realized and he begged you to move with them. Teth wasn’t so bad, and the weather was mostly nice and warm. It had many rooms and nooks and crannies, so organisation was a breeze to you. Every room had its purpose, and you had your own room for privacy. It was nice.

Echo wasn’t around as much as he and Gregor did a lot of infiltration and data grabbing. Just like before, regardless of how angry you were, you feared for his safety. You still loved him and when he came back from a job, he cornered you in your office for a real talk.

“Echo I’m really not in the mood,” you said sourly, keeping your focus on counting how many grenades you needed to trade for.

Echo grimaced. You weren’t gonna make it easy. Calling your name, he walked over and put his hand on your back. You continued to ignore him, not wanting to break the dam open. Echo sighed, taking the datapad out of your hands and setting it on a high shelf. You both had changed a lot, but you were still shorter than him. That much hadn’t changed.

You sighed, cracking a small smile. “You always did know how to keep my attention. It’s not fair how you use your height to your advantage.”

“And, you always avoided conflict, no matter how small. Can we please just talk?”

You sighed in defeat, sitting on a trunk close by. You nodded to Echo, encouraging him to sit across from you.

“What happened to us? We used to be happy. Our time together was happy wasn’t it?”

“Echo of course we were happy. Happiness if just hard to find these days…”

“Then what happened?”

“You died Echo!! That’s what happened! I was told you had died, and no one told me you were alive!” you cried.

Echo stood, pointing a finger his in your direction. “Hey! I am trying okay. I am trying to reach out to you but you’ve just… Just…”

You shot up, looking up at his face, wanting him to finish his sentence. “Just what Echo? Huh? I’ve just what?”

“You closed yourself off! I’m trying to reach for you and reconcile but you’ve closed your mind and your heart! What we had was good! It was beautiful what we had!”

Scoffing, you turned away from his angry eyes, walking away to grab your datapad. “Yeah it was! But guess what Echo? You aren’t here either! You’re standing in front of me but your mind? Your mind and heart are a million miles from here, from me!” You sighed again, letting the anger disperse from your shoulders. You started to pick at the case around your datapad.

“I felt alive when I was with you Echo. I felt alive and happy, and I wanted to marry you. When you died, I died. I really tried to make it out from under that crushing grief. I really did try… but I couldn’t.”

Echo came closer to you, placing his scomp on your lower back. He saw tears falling down your cheeks, knowing you hated people seeing you cry, even him. Echo pulled you into his chest, giving you a little nook to cry into. You unconsciously snuggled into his chest, just like you used to. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling closer, just like you used to. You held each other, reveling in the comfort of physical presence of the other, wanting nothing more than to go back to normal.

“You were gone. How could I even try to go on? I tried but how could I? I love you Echo,” you whispered into his chest. “I love you so much that when I saw you come off the shuttle I thought I was dreaming. Then I realised that you went two years without contacting me and I got angry.”

Echo tightened his hold around you, wanting to squeeze your sorrows out through your hugs. “I know. I know and I’m so sorry cyare. I’m so sorry. I just thought you would’ve moved on from me and I didn’t want to disturb your life. Especially now that I’m…”

You pulled back, taking his face in your hands, loving the coolness against your warm palms. You made him look at you and you smiled, a real genuine smile, for the first time in two years. You raised yourself on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“Oh Echo. I don’t give a kriff what you’re like now. Are you the same Echo I fell in love with?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Then stop overthinking it and kiss me, dummy!”

Echo let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and pressed his lips to yours. Gods, it was as if no time had passed between you two. You both fell into old patterns and soon Echo had you pinned against the wall. His hand copping every feel it could, moving up and down your body. You lifted a leg and rested it on his hip, oddly loving the pressing of metal into your skin. You started to grind yourself against him, loving the sound of Echo groaning against your lips.

“Glad to see your equipment still works,” you teased, kissing his ear.

Chuckling, Echo hoisted you fully against the wall, with both your legs around his waist. “I lost my legs cyar’ika. I was lucky. But would it make a difference if I’d lost all of it?” He asked, unsure of himself.

You smiled, pulling him down to you. “We would’ve figured something out. So, no. If you lost everything, I wouldn’t have cared. Now keep kissing me please!”

Echo smirked, setting you down on the floor. “How about we continue in your room?”

Yup. Nothing had changed. Echo was still the cheeky, loving bastard you fell in love with.

____________________________________________________________

I hope y'all enjoy the angsty goodness! Requests are open and welcome!

Thank you for reading lovelies!!

[oceansssblue]

Hi Sky!!!!! I saw your message!!! I'd love to help you out! How about a little Hunter and female reader drabble ;) Perhaps with the prompt 'nightmares'.

Hullo love! I seem to be in a Hunter streak lately, so we'll finish with this little drabble before switching to some other sexy clone.

Hope you like it, xx.

Sky.

"NIGHTMARES" –HUNTER/F READER

WARNINGS: MELANCHOLY, LOST OF A FAMILY MEMBER, FEELINGS, COMFORTING FLUFF. 📩💔💖

Hunter's six sense, as Omega often called it, woke him up in the middle of the night. He yawned in silence, blinking slowly; wondering at first what could have have happened to interrupt his slumber. He proped himself on his elbows and scanned the rest of the bunk room with his eyes; quickly noticing your bunk empty, bedsheets ruffled up as if you had left the room in a hassle, perhaps needing some air outside of the very manly smelling bedroom.

Hunter hummed distractedly and decided to go find your whereabouts; directing his sleepy, naked feet through the corridor towards the cockpit. He knew you came here to sit down and lose yourself to your thoughts and the stars when your mind felt too active; to try to center yourself and process your feelings and thoughts. To compartimentalise.

He came to a stop as soon as he saw you; observing you in the quiet of the night. You were, in fact, cuddled up in Tech's pilot chair; chin resting on top of your knees and eyes far away from the present reality of the Marauder. Hunter knew you were far, far away.

He resumed his steps and padded over to you; his voice finally annoucing his presence, voice raspy and deep with sleep.

"What are you thinking of this time, cyare?" he asked you, coming to a stop a meter away from you.

You turned towards him; eyes quickly scanning his comfortable thin pijamas –a set of deep blue shirt and low waist pants– and the sleepyness of his face. The lack of his red bandana was noticable –his hair falling freely and slightly tangled towards his shoulders–; giving his overall appearance a soft, safe look.

You pull up a small smile on your face, barely a tug of your lips; lingering sadness hiding from him.

"Do I have to be thinking on something specific?"

Hunter stays in silence, and then slowly makes himself a spot on the co-pilot chair next to you. His eyes are gentle and patient. Ah, there's no hiding away from Hunter.

You smile while redirecting your face towards the stars you can see through the Marauders front window and stay quiet for quite the time. Hunter doesn't say a word; nor interrupts.

"I was thinking of my sibling" you finally say, and you know he's paying attention without having to look back at him.

"Nightmares?" Is his only cautious word.

You shrug your shoulders and hum distractedly, eyes still lost on the stars in front of you.

"Yes, at first. It's what woke me up, and why I came here" you pause and quietly hum again. "It's not what I was thinking when you got here, though".

"What was that?"

You smile to the stars.

"I was imagining a conversation in my mind. Of what I think he'd have said of my intervention on our last mission, if he had saw that" You chuckle, finally turning to look back towards him.

Hunters lips turn up into a tiny nostalgic smile.

"Do you often do that? Speak with him like that, in your imagination?"

It's a private question; but you have full trust on Hunter. He's always been special to you.

"Sometimes" you confirm. "I know it might be weird, but it helps me feel him closer. Or even process his death better, even if it might look like the opposite".

Hunter gently places his hand on your shoulder. It's warm. It's him.

"I think it's sweet" he answers. "And if it makes you feel better, I see no problem with it".

You smile at him again. It's a bit less melancholic now, more sincere. More happy, eyes slightly sparkling in the darkness. More alive. Present.

"Thank you, Hunter".

He nods and slowly stands back up. He offers you a hand.

"Come on, cyare. Let's get some sleep back".

You glance one last time at the stars, breathe in and smile. You stand up, and slide your hand against his, letting him gently tug you towards the bunk room again.

He's the first to lay down in bed; helping you find a comfortable spot besides him afterwards. You both hug each other softly in bed, relishing in the safety of each others warm embrace.

Kind, polite, reserved, firm Hunter is always that for you; safe.

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tara! Really short but I feel it's quite intense at the same time. A bittersweet feeling. Heavy feels but warmth and understanding, and support.

Again, hope you've liked it!

Stay tunned like always my guys, more to come!

Back to my general masterlist here:

[toska-writes]

Heyyy could you maybe write like an angsty one shot for fives x platonic reader with a happy pleaseee i love your writing so much your stories are all so we'll written thank you for all your one shots <333

This one has been in the inbox for so long there’s practically cobwebs on it

“Darken Worlds”

Summary: 2 times where you and Fives had each other to hold on to.

Paring: Fives x GN padawan!reader (PLATONIC)

Warning: ⚠️SPOILERS FOR “THE CITADEL” and THE UMBARAN ARC. Angstttttt hurt/comfort- this one is pretty sad MAJOR SPOILERS FOR DEATHS IF YOU DIDN’T SEE

Word count: 1409 (Not proof read)

Notes: there is no really happy ending in this one because it is my job to try and make you cry😈

It was hard to breath. For the first time in a long time the bucket over Fives head seemed too small.

His skin crawled as each remaining member of their squad passed. But Fives’ eyes scanned what was behind them.

Ragged breaths racked his body, he ripped the helmet from his head. It all felt wrong as his eyes tried frantically to search for a ghost.

Wait. He could still make it. His eyes were like hawks looking for any movement in the rubble and smoke from before.

He just needed a little longer. Fives knew that this couldn’t be the end.

All the other dominos have fallen, and he was unfortunately the last one standing alone.

Title waves of emotions crashed off of Fives, it shook your entire being as you looked over your shoulder to find him not coming along.

It nearly knocked the breath out of your lungs as you slowly advanced to his position. If you didn’t have the force you wouldn’t be able to tell anything was truly wrong.

Maybe that’s what scared you most for Fives.

To everyone he was watching the back of the pack, making sure nothing followed. Only now he hoped one person was.

“Fives?” Your voice caught in your throat watching as Fives’ helmet hit the ground, not acknowledging your words his back was still turned.

You knew what happened. The pained scream of Echos’ name ringed towards the back of your mind.

The pastroid armor heaved up and down in an uneven manner the longer you looked at Fives.

“Fives.” You were sterner this time walking up next to the trooper. The unraveling of his emotions were like pulling on a loose string.

Your hand reached out and rested on the shoulder plate. The string was pulled.

“Echo-“ He looked at you now, his voice was unlike anything that you’ve ever heard.

Unsure. Scared. He was unraveling.

“I know Fives.” You couldn’t help your voice from breaking. A lump rose in your throat making it harder and harder to breath.

In an instant Fives was engulfed in your arms. The larger man seemed to kneel down to your level and shove his head in the crook of your neck.

Fives’ whole body heaved as his sobs became louder and your shoulder was damp.

Tears of your own leaked down your face as you squeezed the trooper tighter. “I’ve got you Fives, it’s ok.”

His words were broken up by tears, stringing them together you got. “Echos gone- I saw him. He’s gone.”

Cradling the back of his head you could feel Fives’ grip on the back of your robes as you didn’t dare to move.

“I’m so sorry Fives.” A sob of your own was heard. “I know, I’ve got you Fives.”

You consoled many troopers before. Some, including Fives comforted you. Seeing a trooper as strong as Fives and one that you held as such an idol like this really opened your eyes to this war.

But right now Fives’ needed someone.

“Is he really gone?” The person speaking through Fives was no longer the mischievous ARC, it was that of an unguarded child. So vulnerable and ready to break.

You could only nod in response for a moment, afraid your own voice would betray you more. But soon you found your voice to say. “I don’t think Echo made it.”

An audible cry rung through your ears and your heart. You knew what it was like to be the last one standing, for better or for worse you both somehow made it this far and you couldn’t quite.

“I’ve got you Fives.”

•✩•

“They’ve got our gear and our weapons.” It was sick to you the fact that those Umbarans were dressed as the fallen just to get a jump on you.

In an instant from the thick fog horizon blaster bullets rained down as you were forced to take cover or pay the consequences.

A blaster rested at your side, your main focus being on your lightsaber until a stray shot seated your hand.

With a hiss the saber fell from your grasp while you were forced to duck out of the way yet again. The fog was so murky your senses didn’t even feel right as your eyes scanned desperately for your lightsaber.

You pushed forward without it for now, the darkness of the planet sat awkwardly in your mind making the force much more challenging to comfortably use.

Shot after shot you could barely see the enemies forces dropping, but so was your own.

“We’re experiencing high casualties.” You barely heard the words crackle over the comms. Worried you looked around towards some of your men.

You quickly located Fives and what you could make out as Tup- For a shiny the kid was alright.

Movement was seen in front of you, a shadow was running across the battlefield frantically. Your blaster was trained on it until you heard the unmistakable voice of your captain.

“Stop shooting! Those are our men stop.” You lowered your blaster slightly. You couldn’t be hearing this right.

You were fighting your own men? There’s no way-

Rex continued on as you emerged from your cover slowly following him.

“Take off your helmets, show them who you are.” His voice was desperate trying to pled with anyone who would listen.

The blaster fire died down as the captain continued his shouting. You watched Rex tackle what you once assumed the enemy to be, only now this time in his arms Rex held Cody to show the whole galaxy who they were fighting.

The breath was ripped from your lungs as all you could do was stare. You watched Rex look around at all his men before letting Cody go.

He feel to his knees with Rex close behind taking a huge breath in. They were firing at their own brothers.

They were killing their own brothers.

“No no no-“ the whispers escaped your mouth gradually becoming louder until finally you yelled. “No!”

The scream echoed throughout the planet, no doubt registering in the ears of the soldiers around.

Dread fell over you looking at all the bodies of the fallen, on both sides of the field. You don’t remember when Fives walked over to you, you could only feel as he slung an arm over your shoulder letting you collapse into his side.

Anyone who has ever know you could tell of how high up you held the clones in your heart, maybe that was why the first to get to you was Fives.

“Those were our men.” You couldn’t look up into Fives eyes, not now. “We’ve lost so many.” Your voice cracked in the last sentence.

It didn’t matter who could see, everyone felt the same it was just a matter of who would show it.

Fives looked up from where he had you cradled in his chest, all of this brothers had the same look of lost in their eyes. Rex met his own and he realized the same thing.

They were turned against their own men, and a kid watched and took part in it all.

The sobs seemed to wash over Fives as he slowly melted to the ground with you.

With a firm grip on both of your shoulders Fives held you up so he could get a good look at your face.

Red eyes met is own and it took everything in Fives not to break down with you right now. “You listen to me.” He spoke with a hard tone, only the edges seemed to reveal truly what he felt.

“It wasn’t your fault. You got that?”

It was you that had to be here, it was you Krell didn’t take in account for when he sent Anakin back to Courusant, and it was you that now had to live with it.

You shook your head slightly at his statement but a hand stoped you and wiped the river that poured from your eyes.

“I’ve got you here, it’s over now.” This time the word we’re more quiet, like Fives was telling you a secret that only you could here.

“Fives-“ you spoke softly saying his name. He was the one thing that was still here, but you feared if you moved too much the dark mist would take him away.

“I’m here with you.” Fives knew what it was like to survive, but sometimes it’s what you have to do.

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @ct-0113

[gun-roswell]

Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: CT-9901 | Hunter, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9904 | Crosshair, CT-9903 | Wrecker, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-9902 | Tech, Rebels (Star Wars) - Character Additional Tags: Post TBB S3, Clone Rebel Era, AU, Lost and Found, Family Feels, Time Jump, CT-9902 | Tech Lives, Angst and Hurt/Comfort Series: Part 16 of Tales from Pabu, Part 2 of Rex’s Rebel Force, Part 15 of Techtober, Part 1 of Tech Tuesday Summary: They Rebels have found something interesting. Or rather, someone's interesting. Especially a certain someone to the Bad Batch.

 Part of Tales from Pabu / Rex’s Rebellion / Tech Tuesday / TechTober series

[fandom-friday]

Happy Fandom Fri-yay!

I come bearing the gift of a new fic:

Brother, my Brother by @iiidunno /nonbifandomqueen on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43422618/chapters/109159881

I know you’re a sucker (like me!) for a good Fives-Lives AU, so you are gonna love this!

No spoilers here, but The Bad Batch takes a bounty-hunting job, and it turns out to be someone they were NOT expecting.

It’s a whump-filled examination of Echo’s PTSD and history, although the rest of the batch have their moments to shine too. Very creative and a great read.

Looking forward to the next chapter and more emotional damage. ❤️

You are SO right, I'm always down for a good Fives Lives AU, and this one promises to be ANGSTY and PAINFUL (we all know what we're signing up for when it comes to the Domino Twins). GIVE US THE EMOTIONAL DAMAGE! Thanks so much for the rec!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)