#let crosshair nap

[calicos-clones]

Love angsty men with little to no self esteem who go through the emotional journey of finding themselves and their family through trials, tribulations, and cuddles.

…said none of the Bad Batch directors ever as they continue to fuck up all the hard work my therapist has done.

[bbgoffic]

There it is folks...

The "I'm about to follow this kid to the end of the universe, forever a changed man, aren't I?"

[robotsandramblings]

i think we've talked before about animated star wars shows doing blooper reels like pixar does?

anyways so Bad Batch S3 needs a blooper reel for ep 7 where Wolffe is staying with the empire and Gregor just bounds out of the ship and throws Wolffe over his shoulder and sprints back to the ship and Wolffe is like "???what are you doing?!" and Gregor shouts "you have to come with us, it's in the Rebels script!" 🤣 (Rex laughing his ass off in the background)

(also a montage of Crosshair and CX-2 slipping, tripping, and falling like 100x each)

[maestro030403]

Omega asking the Batch to play a game with her

Hunter

"Sure, just let me finish this mission report."

"Wait, don't you have some studying to do? We can play a game after that."

Tech

"Have you finished your studies?"

"Well if you don't want to attend to your studies, perhaps you can assist me with these repairs."

"No, Echo is not helping me. He has insisted that it is his day off."

Echo

*Woken from his nap*

"It's not very safe to wake any of us up from napping. You saw what happened to Wrecker when he woke Crosshair up yesterday. And while I am not as mentally unstable, I would appreciate some rest on my day off."

"And don't you have 'studies to attend to' as Tech says? If you're looking for something to do, why don't you help Tech with repairs?"

"Hey, Hunter banned the eye roll just last week."

Crosshair

"Are you attempting to get out of studies?"

"I am not blaming you, I am simply asking."

"Then yes, of course I'd like to play a game. How about Simon Says."

"Simon Says go ask Wrecker because he won't remember that you have studies to do."

Wrecker

"Anytime, anywhere. What're we playin'?"

[amorfista]

"Beach lookout's nap"

The Dad Batch (and Omega) deserve a day of blissful relaxation, I don't think there's anyone out there who wouldn't agree!

While Tech is taking the best nap of his life [Part 1], Omega and Wrecker joined efforts to make the coolest sand-Tipoca city [Part 2] there is out there!

Echo and Hunter might have gotten concerned about the ruckus [Part 3] that these two started to cause...

Crosshair, on the other hand...?

He couldn't give a flying kark.

...or least that's what it would seem like.

Even through a slit of sight, nothing escapes the skillful sniper's eyes. Watching his brothers (and sister) from the distance, he peacefully swings on his hammock, a couple of meters above the ground and (hopefully) far away enough from the mischief that is, apparently, stirring among his siblings.

This state of bliss comes to a halt however, when the crackle of a comm breaks through the sounds of nature.

“Omega to Crosshair, come in Crosshair!”

.

.

.

"For the love of the Maker", he thinks to himself.

Admitting his defeat, Crosshair opened his eyes fully and stared at the palm leaves above, casually spotting a palm weevil crawling over them within a split second.

He took a deep breath as he pressed the button of his own commlink, making sure to drag his words to let Omega know of his displeasure as he spoke:

"What do you want?"

TO BE CONTINUED!!!

Alright, alright, alright.

I know I said that I'd post a version with 1-2 tats and then the full body, but I just could NOT choose which tat to leave on😭 so now you get the zero tats as the "HC" version, and...

DON'T BE SHY, ZOOM THE HECK IN!

(also i know that he shouldn't have an ice vulture in this hc where he never left the batch so he never met Mayday, whoops)(SORRY FOR THE HUGE POST TOO)

This was so. Much. Fun. Not all the tats have a HUGE, INTRINCATE meaning but, honestly? I'm just SO HAPPY with the result.

Some of the tats are very pretty so, I thought I'd clean them up and show you guys! Might even make stickers in the future!

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

@arcsimper5 THANK YOU SOOO MUCH for the hammock idea, plus the wonderful story that you've written around my drawings!! You're a sweetheart!!♥♥♥

@grinningnexu THANK YOU! for the thousand amazing tattoo ideas!

@nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius THANK YOU TOO! for the ice vulture idea; I'll make a sketch for his back tomorrow!! ♥

@wwheeljack @freesia-writes the no-tat version is the og now XD

I'm very, very happy about the drawing. The colors and background were super fun to make. The perspective might be wonky but I don't mind, I'll get better at it eventually xD

I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT AND AS PER USUAL, THANK YOU SOOO MUCH FOR THE FEEDBACK AND LOVE!!! 💗💗💗

Taglist: (PM or @ to join!)

@dukeoftheblackstar @justalittletomato @darthmaulshispanichousewife @botherbother-blog @aftergloom @badolmen @ihaventpickedausername @ohboi @stardustbee @nik-barinova @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @gen-has-green-vibes @ejfivercommander @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @eyecandyeoz @noesqape @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @staycalmandhugaclone @callmesunny04 @ginnymilling @sunshinesdaydream @blueink-bluesoul @cloneloverrrrr @moon-wrecked @idontgetanysleep @tech-aficionado @followthepurrgil @renton6echo @queen-jiru @shoe-bag @eyayah123 @eloquentmoon @and-loth-cat @ladyzirkonia @stardusthuntress @bambambunny

[the-bi-space-ace]

I’m in a Mood™️ so here’s what our favorite clones are like when they want attention:

Echo:

It depends on who he wants attention from tbh. With Fives, Tech, or Crosshair? He’s such a little shit. Has the patience of a tooka that’s grumpy he’s not getting enough pets. Is rather forward about wanting attention, though, which is shocking for him considering he’d rather bleed out than ask for help. Attention is different though. With everyone else he can play up his charms. He’s persuasive and will use his powers of “sweetness” to get what he wants.

Crosshair:

Did I hear someone say cause problems? Yeah. He’s gonna cause problems. He’ll be super grumpy but never say a damn word about what he wants. Best believe he’ll be a little shit on purpose in order to get attention: positive or negative. Any attention is good attention. Also acts like an impatient pets-starved tooka but he’ll bite to get his way instead of head butting. He teases, pokes or prods, makes a fuss out of embarrassing things his squad has done. All to get them to retaliate so he gets what he wants. Little shit.

Tech:

Straight forward man. He’s not shy about asking for attention and he will be honest about it. No grumping although sometimes he’ll get tetchy before he recognizes what it is he wants. He simply interrupts when he wants something. Echo is on his comm and Tech comes up to him, says nothing, takes the comm, turns it off, then starts rambling.

Wrecker:

He’s gonna play. I’m talking roughhousing, pillow fights, tickling, anything for some physical affection. When he’s gone a real long time without any attention he gets sad. Maybe even pouts. Not as sulky as Crosshair can get but he sure does play the kicked mastiff well with those big eyes of his.

Hunter:

Man can’t even ask for a cup of caf let alone affection. Gets cranky and ends up taking a nap instead of just, idk, asking for a damn hug. Has to be bullied into accepting it like it’s the worst thing ever. Dramatic behavior. Almost as bad as Crosshair for fucks sake. Echo nearly tackled him one day bc he kept moping and it was driving Echo up a wall. When the two of them both want attention at the same time just let Echo at him. He’ll wear him down, he’s good at that. No one can resist tooka eyes from Echo.

Rex:

Rex will always suggest an activity he knows the other person likes. It’s his sneaky way to ask to spend time together because he’s sure they won’t say no. He doesn’t like that cafe but Fives does so he’ll suggest it for lunch for some one on one time.

Cody:

Refuses to admit to needing anything he’s big and tough no need to give him anything. He will start to isolate if he’s feeling too itchy for attention. It makes him feel weird that he needs Something. Ridiculous man. Pulls away when he wants to be closer. It’s easier for him with Rex, Echo, or Fives because he’ll just show up and tell them they’re doing something with him and they follow. Anyone else? Can’t do it. Won’t do it. Will show off sometimes to impress his general for some positive feedback.

Fives:

He’s up front about it! But he’s gonna use pestering to get his way! Echo won’t even get a day without Fives trying to bother him for some attention. He gets under Rex or Cody’s skin to get a reaction. They know he’s doing it on purpose and they humor him anyway.

[here-comes-the-moose]

Bad Batch As People on a Family Road Trip

Hunter

The driver. It used to be Tech but he was banned from driving on long road trips, so Hunter had to take over.

Made them leave twenty minutes later than schedule because he decided that when they were getting into the car was the perfect time to use the restroom.

In charge of the music (he’s playing typical American dad on a road trip music). To everyone’s horror, he sings along (I headcanon that he cannot sing for shit).

Regularly reaching his hand back for snacks.

Will get annoyed at least once and threaten to turn the car around.

Somehow knows which route will take them by the best spot to stop for food.

Constantly checking on his siblings to see how they are doing. Mostly Crosshair.

Wrecker

Sitting in the back with Omega.

Constantly asking Echo for snacks and sharing with Omega.

Got bored halfway through Sleeping Beauty and decided to try and annoy Tech.

Kept trying not to laugh with Omega after Hunter yelled at them, but was actually solemn when Echo yelled at them.

Lets Omega rest on his shoulder.

Encourages Hunter’s singing and sings along with him occasionally.

Falls asleep in the last half hour of the trip.

Tech

Banned from driving because the last time he drove on a road trip he made Crosshair throw up twice and gave Hunter a migraine.

Just listens to podcasts now and stares out the window, occasionally pointing things out to Omega. Also texting a lot with Phee and occasionally smiling at his phone, causing Echo to tease him a bit.

Starts the most random conversations out of the blue. He’s just like me fr

At one rest stop he noticed Crosshair looking particularly pale, so he wordlessly disappeared to buy some cold cans of ginger ale for him to have in the cooler if he needed them.

Got so annoyed at Wrecker kicking his chair that he actually snapped and said some curse words. Echo and Hunter were not impressed.

Crosshair

Passenger Princess because he gets carsick.

His carsickness is the reason the AC is on full blast and everyone in the car either has on a sweater or sweatshirt or a blanket draped over themselves.

The only one who gets to ask to take a break outside of Hunter’s pre-planned schedule.

Was very touched by Tech buying him some soda when he wasn’t feeling that great.

Doesn’t talk much during the trip, mostly just stares at the road in front of him, drinks the ginger ale Tech got him or eats some crackers, or tries to take a nap until they get to wherever they’re going.

Complains about Hunter’s singing and music, but secretly enjoys it since it helps to distract him from how awful he feels.

Echo

Has a large bag with everything they might possibly need, from medicine to snacks to essential oils to hand sanitizer to barf bags. His brothers started calling it the diaper bag. He points out that they’re the ones who use it the most, so what does that make them?

Only person fussing over Crosshair more than Hunter. Constantly asking if he needs more ginger ale, meds, crackers, or a bag. Crosshair would find it endearing if it wasn’t so annoying.

Lost his cool and yelled at Tech and Wrecker for fighting, which made the whole car sit in tense silence for about twenty minutes.

Brought a cooler full of snacks and drinks for the car and to have at their final destination so they don’t need to go shopping.

Omega

The reason for the road trip.

Watching Disney movies with Wrecker in the backseat.

Ends up taking a little nap after lunch on Wrecker’s shoulder.

Convinces her brothers to get a sweet treat from a random drive-thru after lunch.

Also points out things she sees through the window, mostly so she and Tech can chat about them.

[lucky-ducky006]

TBB headcanons nobody asked for ❤️

Pt 1. Crosshair

Will tap or poke his brothers to annoy them but will absolutely lose his mind the moment someone breathes too close to him.

Same as last one, will invade his brothers personal space but if anyone tries to hug him or give him any sort of affection he hisses at them and runs away.

Loves/craves physical affection but u could never get that out of him

When he was a kid he would hold his breath when he didn’t get his way.

He and Tech are twins, I don’t make the rules 🤷🏻‍♀️

Drama queen

Loves to gossip

Can’t cook to save his life

He can take naps anywhere anytime

The moment he passed up Hunter in height he never let it go

When Wrecker got the injury that caused the big scar on the side of his head Crosshair cried uncontrollably and wouldn’t leave his side no matter what. When Wrecker was healed Crosshair immediately went back to his distant self and denied everything; but from then on he was a lot more worried about his brothers’ wellbeing

When he does try to show affection he panics and just insults his brothers, punches them, and walks away.

When he gets sick he refuses to acknowledge it and will keep going until he literally collapses on the floor.

Has a ton of allergies for some reason.

Very sensitive but pretends he isn’t.

Has never passed a driving test.

Bc of his enhancements he’s very sensitive to light and flashing colors/lights.

Deep down he’s a little scared of Hunter.

He hoped Echo would kinda be a little punching bag since he’s a reg but he was surprised by Echos snappiness and came to enjoy his presence.

Hates being the youngest.

Hates when his brothers worry about him.

Chews on toothpicks as an anxious habit.

That’s all for Crosshair rn 😋😋

[dindjarindiaries]

character: Hunter (The Bad Batch)

prompts: "Everything's gonna be okay." "Promise?" "Promise."

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

You paced the area outside the cockpit for a few minutes, debating whether or not you should actually walk inside. The rest of the ship was quiet, with everyone asleep aside from you and Hunter. He was on watch in the pilot's seat, facing hyperspace and twirling his knife around to keep himself awake. For some reason, though, you couldn't make yourself walk in and disturb his peace.

Thankfully, he made the choice for you. "You can come in, you know."

You stopped and sighed, your resolve withering as you finally stepped through the threshold. Your arms crossed over your chest as you stood just behind the co-pilot's seat. Hunter had already sheathed his knife, and his observant gaze was fixed on you. The more he studied you, the more his brow began to knit together in worry.

"You should be asleep." Hunter's words weren't a scolding; rather, they were coated in pure and genuine concern, an invitation for you to tell him what was on your mind.

You huffed and shrugged. "I tried."

You turned the chair so that you could sit in it, and you kept it swiveled to the side facing him. He did the same, leaning an elbow upon one of his knees. He was without most of his armor, which no doubt made his current position much more comfortable for him.

"I..." You paused, then chuckled as the words began to form in your mind. They sounded ridiculous when you started to give life to them. "I shouldn't have bothered you. I'm sorry."

You began to stand, but Hunter was quicker. He stood and held your shoulders to keep you in place, his eyes searching yours and providing a comfort that left you breathless. "You're not bothering me." His thumbs ran over your shoulders. "You came here for a reason. That's why it took you so long to come in."

The slight amusement he added to his tone made you huff. The sound brought a small smile to Hunter's lips.

"I'd like to hear what you have to say."

You nodded at that, returning his smile as he relaxed back into his chair. Hunter still stayed close, and he even offered his hands to you. You accepted his offer and held on tight, keeping your gaze fixated on them as you finally spoke your truth. "I'm afraid, Hunter. We don't know what we're doing, we don't know what's coming next, and... it's scaring me."

Hunter gave your hands a gentle squeeze, and as you dared to look up at him, you noticed the way his own shoulders had grown a little heavier. He released an exhale and let his own gaze fall. "I understand." He watched his thumbs run over the backs of your hands. "It's not easy navigating this galaxy when so much has changed in such little time."

You took a deep breath, wishing that all your worries could go with it as you closed your eyes. "I don't want to lose anyone, Hunter. We've already lost Crosshair in a way, and that's something I know none of us have fully healed from." You reopened your eyes to meet Hunter's gaze, and a glimmer of pain in his eyes proved your words to be true. "What if something worse happens to one of us?"

Hunter's brow lifted in sympathy, but before he could say anything, the sound of more footsteps drew your attention to the threshold. Wrecker was standing there with a yawn, rolling his neck before he looked at Hunter first. "All right, Sarge, it's nap time. I'm..." he paused as he noticed you were there, and his gaze settled on your entwined hands, "ready for my shift."

Hunter nodded, rising from his seat and helping you to do the same. You thanked him quietly before he responded to Wrecker. "Thanks, Wrecker."

He walked forward and you followed. Hunter's hand patted Wrecker's shoulder as he passed him, and you gave Wrecker a quick side-hug. He returned it with a comforting smile.

Hunter was waiting for you as you joined him outside the threshold of the cockpit. He gestured with his head towards his bunk, his voice now a whisper to avoid waking the others. "You can come with me."

You nodded and attempted to ignore the warmth you gained at the idea of sharing Hunter's space with him. He led the way to his bunk and helped you up first before following. There was a blanket that he drew up over the two of you, another layer of warmth that threatened to devour you and every dark worry that was still taking a hold of you.

It was only after Hunter had rested his head on his pillow to face you that he began to respond to your earlier worries. "You've been with us through much of the war. You've seen what we've been up against."

You nodded at that. The first time you had ever seen them in combat, it had blown your mind. It was a big reason why you tagged along with the squad in the first place.

"This Empire and this galaxy are unpredictable, but that never stopped any of us before." Hunter found one of your hands again and held it tight in his own, though his gaze never strayed from yours. "We're gonna be okay." He nodded. "Everything's gonna be okay."

The worried weight on your chest already began to dissipate, but you needed one last reassurance to make it disappear. "Promise?"

Hunter lifted his hand to your cheek instead and nodded once more. "Promise." He brought himself close enough to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your entire body began to relax in a way you'd never felt before as he pulled away to face you again. "Now, try to get some rest." His hand returned to yours. "I'll be right here."

You brought yourself even closer to him, but before you buried your head in his chest, you held the tattooed side of his face and kissed him. It was a quick yet sweet gesture, spelling out the thank-you you wished to tell him in a way that somehow said it even more strongly. He was beaming as you pulled away, though your head went to his chest to keep yourself as close to him as possible.

There was no clear resolution in sight, like Hunter had said, but you believed him wholeheartedly. Everything would be okay, and at the end of it all, he would always be there to make sure of it.

[meshla-cyarika]

Migraines

Pairing: Hunter x gn!reader

Word count: 805

Tags/warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, cuddles, Crosshair being Crosshair.

Summary: Your boyfriend is back from a mission, but all his sensory input is catching up with him.

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

Fuck the Sepratists.

You've been on a week long mission with Delta Squad and have only just gotten back Coruscant. You didn't even see any action, all you had to do was sit in hiding for a week and snoop around to find out if there were Separatists on the planet. There were, but they had left long before you even arrived.

A drawn out sigh leaves your lips, as you make your way towards the mess hall. You've already showered and you're planning on taking a long nap, but you know that if you dont eat anything before then, Scorch's mother hen instincts will take over.

Once you get to the front of the que, the option of stew, or a slop that looks like it could be used to build houses stands before you. You ask for the stew, then you're about to make your way to a quieter table, when a booming voice yells out your name.

Your eyes land on the misfit band of clones known as the Bad Batch, who are sat at a small table by themselves. You instantly notice a certain sergeant's absence.

"Wrecker, I thought you lot were on Kashyyyk?" You tactfully take a seat next to Crosshair, knowing it's the spot where you're least likely to get bits of bread thrown at you by the snarky sniper.

"We were, but we crushed those clankers to dust!" Wrecker's booming laugh fills the air, while he clasps his fist in his other hand to emphasise his point.

"Is that a new record of how fast you've completed a mission?" You arch a brow and take a bite out of a piece of bantha meat.

"Hardly." Tech speaks up, not looking at his datapad for once. "Remember Felucia?" He gives you a look, referring to when they managed to take out an entire droid factory without even leaving the Marauder.

You let Tech and Wrecker break out into their own conversation, then you turn to Crosshair. "Where's Hunter?"

You're not that concerned, because you know that if anything drastic happened to the sergeant, you'd be the first to know. He is your boyfriend after all.

"Migraine." The sniper replies, seemingly too busy with picking off pieces of his bread to use as ammunition to actually look at you.

You sigh quietly and continuing eating your meal. Migraines aren't an uncommon battle for Hunter. With his enhanced senses, everything can become all too much very quickly. His migraines can vary from just a very strong headache, to throwing up and not being able to form sentences. Considering Crosshair's unbothered tone, this is one of the more mild ones.

You finish your meal quickly and stand up from the table to make your leave. "Well, not like this isn't fun, but I have more pressing matters to attend to."

"Which translates to: "don't come back to the ship, unless you want to be scarred for life"." Crosshair smirks up at you.

"Please. In his state, that might kill him." You scoff at his words.

"Urgh! Some people are trying to eat!" Wrecker complains, with a grimace set on his face.

《》《》《》《》

It's almost eery how silent and dark the Marauder is, when you step inside. Tech had mentioned something a while back about how he had managed to get rid of most of the noise pollution that the ship creates. How much they are willing to do for each other never fails to tug on your heart strings.

The light from the open door allows you to see a lump on one of the bunks at the back that you identify as Hunter. You step out of the doorway and the durasteel slides shut behind you, leaving you in darkness.

"Hunter." You call out softly, navigating your way to his bunk from memory alone. There's a grunt and a mumble of something that sounds like your name. "You need anything, cyare?" You sit on the edge of his bunk and your eyes gradually adjust to the darkness, which allows you to notice the few strands of hair in his face that you tuck back behind his ear.

"You. Just you." Hunter murmurs and you can't help the warm smile that etches it's way onto your face at his words.

"Shift over then, trooper." You give him a playful smirk.

"Rude." He huffs back, as he shimmies closer to the wall. You slide off your shoes and crawl into the narrow bunk beside him. Instantly, Hunter's arms are around your torso and he's tucking his face into the crook of your neck.

"I love you, you know that?" You absentmindedly comb your fingers through his hair and press a kiss to the crown of his head.

"Ni kar'taylir gar darasuum." He sounds like he's already half asleep, so you nestle closer to him and let your eyes drift closed...

[nahoney22]

Some fluff/comfort with Crosshair? Where m!reader had a tough mission and was having an overall bad day? Also congrats on 4000!! :D

Certainty

M!Reader X Crosshair

word count: 1k

After a mission went sour, you’re left feeling deflated. So when Crosshair finds you training by yourself, he’s there to offer you a piece of advice.

warnings: fluff/comfort fic, can be read as romantic or platonic, reader has bad day, hugs, target practice, male reader.

authors note: sorry for the wait and thank you for the request! Enjoy 🩵

You gazed out into the endless expanse of hyperspace from the confines of the Marauder, the events of the mission replaying incessantly in your mind, particularly your own costly mistake. What should have been a routine shot spiraled into a domino of problems, turning what was supposed to be a simple mission into a desperate struggle. The weight of responsibility weighed heavily on you, and you couldn't shake the feeling of self-blame.

Already in a foul mood, the day had started with a spill of caf on your equipment, followed by Hunter's impatient reminders to hurry up cleaning your things as the rendezvous loomed closer.

“How long until we touch down?” you inquired, turning to Tech who manned the ship.

“I would estimate around 1 hour and 27 minutes. Why do you ask?” he replied, seemingly oblivious to your tense demeanor.

“Could you wake me when we're about to land? I need to focus on some training,” you requested, receiving a simple nod in response. With that, you made your way to your bunk, passing by Crosshair who stood against the ship's wall. Though he glanced up as you approached, you chose to bypass him without a word.

His frown followed you as you exited, prompting him to eventually make his way to Tech in the cockpit. “What's his issue?”

Tech turned to face his brother, a knowing expression etched on his features. “It seems he's frustrated with how today's mission unfolded. Your decision to let him take the shot likely added to his distress.”

Crosshair shrugged nonchalantly. “He wanted to. I trust his abilities. Besides, we've faced tougher challenges before.”

“True,” Tech agreed, recalling a particularly harrowing mission on Kashyyyk that ended in disaster before refocusing on the current issue. “But he has not been with us long enough to experience setbacks like this one.”

Crosshair sighed, crossing his arms. “I'll talk to him once we land.”

“That's a good plan, especially since he's planning on training,” Tech suggested, returning his attention to the ship's controls. With a deft press of a button, he guided the Marauder out of hyperspace. “Perhaps you should help him.”

As instructed, Tech had roused you from your brief nap, prompting you to gather your rifle, gear, and a few props before venturing out of the ship and into a remote area. Unbeknownst to you, someone trailed closely behind.

Upon reaching a clearing devoid of civilisation, you arranged some old canteens on a fallen log for target practice. After positioning yourself at what you deemed an optimal distance and crouching behind a sizable boulder for cover, you took aim and fired, only to miss. Frowning at the initial failure, you attempted another shot, only to repeat the same outcome. Your frustration mounted with each subsequent miss, leading to a barrage of shots that seemed to hit everything except the intended targets.

Cursing aloud, you impulsively kicked the boulder, immediately regretting the action as pain shot through your toes. "What did that boulder ever do to you?" remarked Crosshair, his familiar voice breaking the tense silence as he entered the clearing, observing your outburst and string of missed shots.

"Hi Crosshair," you grumbled, earning a low chuckle from him as you settled atop the boulder, nursing your injured toes.

Crosshair stood before you, tilting his head curiously as he watched your frustration. "How are your toes?" he inquired.

"Sore," you replied, wincing at the discomfort before meeting his gaze. "And my aim? Terrible. I don't understand. I'm usually a good shot. You've seen me shoot, but I've never missed this much before."

Crosshair remained silent for a moment before retrieving a toothpick from a pouch and casually placing it in his mouth. "Are you stressed?" he asked simply.

You pondered his question briefly before shaking your head. While it had been a rough day, you couldn't fathom how it would affect your performance to this extent. "Not that I'm aware of," you admitted, absently brushing dust off your knee. "Though today's mission was a disaster."

Crosshair shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not uncommon for missions to go awry. Your body can move and your brain is working so I’d consider that a win."

You chuckled softly, feeling a fondness for Crosshair as his presence always seemed to complement yours perfectly. "I guess. I just can't shake the feeling that I could've accidentally hurt someone."

"But you didn't," he countered, seizing your rifle. "So try again."

You blinked at the command in his gaze before reluctantly rising to your feet, bracing yourself for another potential failure.

As you lined up your shot, Crosshair subtly adjusted your position, his touch both unfamiliar and strangely comforting. "Relax. Only shoot when you're certain. Don't hesitate," he advised, his words echoing in your mind as you prepared to take aim once more.

Despite feeling the weight of his expertise bearing down on you, you focused on his guidance. But just as you were about to pull the trigger, Crosshair whispered in your ear, "Breathe," before stepping back and watching.

You blocked out the distractions, following his advice. Breathe. Relax. Wait for certainty. And when you finally took the shot, the satisfying clang of a canteen being hit filled the clearing.

"I did it!" you exclaimed triumphantly.

Crosshair smirked, twirling his toothpick between his fingers. "Told you so. You just need to shoot when you know it's right. Don't freeze up. Wait until you're certain."

His lesson resonated with you, and with newfound confidence, you lined up your shots again, hitting each target with precision.

Grinning, you leaned your rifle against the boulder and approached Crosshair. "Thank you, Crosshair."

"No need," he replied dismissively, but you couldn't resist wrapping your arms around his slender frame, surprising him momentarily before he reciprocated with a gentle hand on your back, offering a small smile. "If you ever need more practice, you know where to find me."

More Crosshair Works

Masterlist

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[secondratefiction]

Silly headcanon question: which clones do you think are the cutest first thing in the morning? Which ones are grumpy? Would this change when they wake up with their SO or would SO understand and make caf to help them get less grump?

Ok, I think I went a little overboard... let's break this down into a couple different categories:

Cute, early risers:

Rex - man's got lots of things to do and chaos to try and manage. He usually hits the ground running, and is the one making other people their caf

Cody - again, another one of those 'places to go, things to do', always busy types. He pretty much taught Rex everything he knows

Cute, but disoriented:

Fives - The amount of times this man has tripped over himself trying to get up and out of his bunk... There's a couple minutes of slight bewilderment and trying to remember who and where he is, but then he usually up and ready for whatever he's getting himself into today.

Wrecker - big boi is a solid sleeper that can and will fall asleep anywhere and sleep through anything. He doesn't wake up easy, but he does wake up in a good mood at least.

Adorably and endearingly grumpy:

Tech - did he just wake up, or is he coming off of his third all-nighter in a row? There's really no way too tell because whether it's been a 20 minute power nap, or a 20 hour black out, either way Tech wakes up like he's not sure what year it is, and absolutely prepared to claw someone's eyes out to get to a caf machine

Echo - granted, he's usually low-key grumpy on a regular basis because unfortunately he keeps getting attached to idiots with no sense of self preservation or common sense, but it always seems like no matter how much sleep he does manage to get, it's never enough. He just wants to be able to drink one cup of caf while it's still warm before he starts getting pulled in twelve deferent directions (#momproblems)

Hunter - in a pretty similar boat to Echo with the added bonus of waking up already over stimulated. Don't get him wrong, man loves his brothers (and his daughter) but it is 0600, and his eye is already twitching. It is too early for any of y'all to be this dang loud.

Grumpy and annoyed until fully awake:

Crosshair - usually there is an underlying hint of playfulness to his hostility - kind of like a grumpy old cat... Not right now. He's liable to actually stab someone until he's had some time and at minimum one cup of caf.

Wolffe - again, man is usually kind of grumpy by default. Now we just have the added bonus of 'not a functional human being... yet'. He will come around, he's just going hit anyone who tries to speak to him before that with a glare that's going to make them shrivel up and die a little inside. Don't hold it against him though, man doesn't even have the energy to roll his eyes yet.

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕙𝕒𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕤 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ ꜱᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴡᴇᴇᴛ

⋆ ★ ᴜʜ ʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴇ ɪ ꜱᴘᴇᴡᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

Hunter

The sergeant is very unruly in the bathroom.

He is the shittiest person to share a fresher with.

Somehow manages to leave the whole thing wet as he gets out of the shower, has hair all in the drains and clinging to the shower wall, and the mirror is totally fogged up to the point you have to air out the room for a solid few minutes.

All of his hair products and body care stuff also take up so much counter space, leaving barely enough for yours (which is much more minimal).

You’re trying your best to help Hunter implement new, better habits as time goes on, but it’s proving difficult.

He’d never believe you, but you might insist he’s this way because he likes to relax and not bother in the fresher, as it’s the only time for himself to truly unwind and enjoy himself.

But no. That can’t be the reason why. Right?

Tech

He is a CHRONIC nail biter and skin picker.

It’s just a constant fiddle thing.

Helps him focus on something but he also just gets picky with the state of his nails and the skin surrounding it.

Consistently gets to a point where the poor things are red and swollen and just look painful.

Subtly you try to make him stop; switching to a new soap, coating his nails with bad tasting polish and finish, etc.

It doesn’t work.

He somehow always manages to swerve around it and continue biting his nails.

One day you’ll find a strategy to get him to stop; hint, it might be letting him fiddle around with your hands a little…

Wrecker

Sloppy with food. Like, very sloppy.

If you hand him a full plate, a good portion of it will find its way onto the table, the floor, his pants, his shirt, and the surrounding area of his mouth.

He just can’t seem to keep it all in one place.

It’s not that big of a deal; if he’s truly conscious about it, he won’t actively make a mess (though he might still get some on his clothes and mouth), but a lot of the time, he isn’t.

Either way, it’s kind of charming. Seeing him snarf down food enthusiastically only fits so well with the rest of his character.

Crosshair

This man’s sleep schedule is fuuuuucked; more fucked than Tech’s, even.

He will go to bed early, wake up in the middle of night and stay up until the morning when he finally does fall asleep for a few hours but is forced to wake up and start the day.

Or alternatively, he’ll go to bed very late, sleep until noon, and spend his day taking minor naps only continuing his habit of sleeping later.

The worst part is he doesn’t make any effort to fix it and practically enables it.

What kind of fucked up form of masochism is this? you think.

He’s a quiet riser and sleeper so this habit of his manages not to affect anyone else, but it especially bothers you out of your care for crosshair and his well-being.

You might try and coax him to sleep and wake up at proper times with you, and it might work every now and then— but Crosshair’s sleep schedule doesn’t follow anyone’s orders.

Echo

This boy has really bad posture.

It’s not very obvious compared to Tech’s posture, but it causes him lots of shoulder and neck aches, especially when he’s sitting in the cockpit for too long.

You make jokes about getting him a back brace and he grumbles with a laugh, “I already got enough metal hooked up to me.”

Sometimes when you notice it and see him rubbing at his neck, you get his attention and sweetly tell him ‘shoulders up, love.’

Without fail, he does so with a soft smile and leans over to kiss your cheek as a way of thanking you for the reminder.

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[fanfoolishness]

Patching Up

After the events of The Return, Crosshair realizes Batcher's in need of patching up. It turns out she's not the only one.

Spoilers for 3x05 The Return and 2x12 The Outpost, Crosshair, Batcher, and Hunter, angst and family feels. <3 2770 words. Illustrated!

-

It was well before sunrise when the Remora arrived back to Pabu.  Crosshair shook off the nap he’d settled into and got to his feet for landing, tucking his helmet beneath his arm.  On the bunk across the way, Omega and Batcher lay snoring, curled up together.  He smiled faintly at the sight.  

“Come on, kid,” Wrecker said softly, scooping Omega into his arms.  She yawned, wrapping her arms around his neck, but still kept her eyes firmly squeezed shut.  “Let’s get you to bed.”  

Crosshair watched them go.  He had the sense that this was something that had happened many times before; Omega small and sleepy, Wrecker there to carry her to bed.  It had looked like such a familiar action for them both.  Something in him panged at the thought.

There was a small boof noise beside him.  He glanced down in time to see Batcher nudge his hand with her muzzle, wagging her tiny tail as she eased into a vast stretch.  He patted her nose obligingly.  It was the least he could do.

He passed Hunter and Echo, deep in conversation still in the cockpit, and made his way back out into the predawn air beneath the glinting stars and swinging moon.  He took a deep breath of the fresh ocean breeze.  He was still getting used to it, the taste and smell of the clean sea air so different from Tantiss’ stale recycled scent.  His hand flinched, and he jammed his hand against his leg, willing it to still.

He clicked under his tongue for Batcher, but she didn’t attend.  He turned around.  She was sitting on the ground several feet away in an awkward pose, chewing aggressively at one of her front paws.  He clicked his tongue again, and she came this time, clearly limping.  

“What have you gotten into?” Crosshair asked, concerned.  She sat down beside him, then immediately turned to lick at her other front paw.  “Uh-uh,” he said firmly, and she stopped to give him a guilty look.

He sighed under his breath, then made up his mind.  “Stay here.”  He headed back into the ship, interrupting Echo and Hunter and their poring over the data retrieved from the datapad.  “I need a medpac.  I think the hound is wounded.  Nothing serious, but I can check her over.”

Echo nodded.  “Of course.  Back near the bunks, third crate.”

“AZI might be able to take a look at her, too,” said Hunter.  “You could ask him --”

“The medpac will do,” said Crosshair shortly.  I’m sure AZI could look at your hand for you…  No.  He didn’t need the droid for this.  

Crosshair followed Echo’s instructions, collecting a kit with basic supplies.  He left out the diagnostic scanner -- he doubted it had been calibrated to lurca hounds -- but took the bandage materials, hyposprays and splints, wondering if he would need to make a human wrist splint work for the hound’s blocky leg.  

He headed back outside… and the damn hound was gone.

Of course.  Try to help the creature, and it had taken off.  He scanned the mesa for movement beneath the stars and the solar lamps, eyes flicking across the landscape, but came up short; only a few moon-yos scampered across the ground, their dark shadows clear in the dim light.  He put his helmet on, toggling on thermal vision.  Ah.  A chunky heat signature was nudging open the gate at the little house they’d been taking meals at.  She was nothing if not predictable.  

He caught up with her in a few minutes, closing the gate quietly behind him.  Batcher was laying down, curled up defensively, chewing at her feet again with an appalling licking sound.  He set down his helmet on the table and slowly approached.

“Stop that,” said Crosshair evenly.  “You’ll only make it worse.”  He knelt beside her with the medical supplies and she hunkered into herself, giving him a wary expression.  He gave her a skeptical look, then averted his gaze until she relaxed again.  “Don’t bite me.”

She licked his face instead, and he scrubbed off the saliva vigorously with his gloved hand.  “No.”  She sat there panting, looking perfectly pleased with herself.  He reached for the closest paw, tugging it out from beneath her.  She tensed, but let him turn her paw over.  

Even in the starlight and lamplight, it was easy to see the issue; while her paws didn’t seem to be swollen and nothing felt broken, her pads were scraped raw, swollen and dotted with specks of beading blood.  Carefully he checked them all.  The front left was the worst, with a thick slice of skin hanging torn from the edge of the pad, but all were affected in some way.  The sight pained him.

“The ice,” he murmured.  “You weren’t made for it.”  She whined, laying down and pulling her paw away from him.  Of course a beast meant to survive the jungles around Tantiss wouldn’t have the protection against the cold needed for Barton IV.

He and Mayday hadn’t, either.

The bitter wind shearing his exposed face, fingers locked and frozen around the Firepuncher, desperately dragging Mayday closer to keep him warm --

Crosshair shook the memory off and took a packet of numbing gel out of the medpac, rubbing it cautiously on the paw with the lacerated pad.  She tolerated it surprisingly well.  He wasn’t sure how she’d take the next step, though.

He pulled out the sterilization spray canister and affixed it to the hypospray, but hesitated before using it.  He knew from experience in the field that it stung like a wyyyschokk’s bite, even if it was effective.  He had reluctantly accepted that Batcher liked him -- he couldn’t fathom why -- but he was skeptical of her ability to not bite him while using it.

He sighed.  Omega talked to the hound constantly, and she did seem to understand much of what Omega said to her.  Perhaps it was worth a try.  Might distract the beast, anyway.

“Hold still.  This’ll sting, but it helps.”  Batcher let him take her paw in his hands, but jerked it away as the mist settled onto the torn surface of the pad.  Crosshair rolled his eyes.  “What did I just say?  The wounds need cleaning.  I know it stings, but it’s temporary.”  He tried to take her paw again, and she let him do it, though her beady eyes stared warily at him.  

“There,” he said, spraying the paw.  This time she let him hold it under the full duration of the spray, though she anxiously licked his face several times.  He blinked, but kept going until he had treated all four paws, the saliva drying sticky on his face.  “Good.”  She wagged her tail.

He reached for the bandages, but frowned.  They were all pre-cut, in shapes that wouldn’t fit the irregularities of Batcher’s huge paws.  He rummaged around in the medpac, coming out with a sealant spray instead.

“We should have checked your feet after the mission,” Crosshair muttered to the hound, taking up one of her back paws and applying a thin layer of sealant.  She trembled but let him do it.  

He thought of the time Hunter had hidden a poisonous bite on some backwater world in the midst of one of their first field missions, and had nearly passed out in a field of battle droids before Tech had been able to render emergency first aid.  They’d yelled at him for ten minutes solid after the battle, furious and scared both.  His mouth quirked to one side at the memory, the squabbling, the relief.  

“Feeling better?”

She looked up at him, whimpering.  

“Not yet?  Hm.”  He reached for her next paw, shaking his head.  “That ice…  It’s brutal.”

She woofed softly, almost in agreement, as he worked on her foot.  “At least it wasn’t a blizzard,” he said.  He went very still except for his hand, which trembled against her paw.  “Mayday never had a chance.”

Batcher rumbled, rolling away from him onto her back, scratching herself on the patio floor.  She rolled back up to her side and sniffed the air, looking alert and attentive, before nudging his arm with the great crest on her head.  

“He saved my life, you know.”  He finished with the second back paw, moving to the less severely affected front paw.  The words dripped out of him, slow and difficult to speak but just as difficult to stop, now that he’d started.  “I stepped on a pressure mine.  I’d have been killed.  He could have gone on without me.”  He paused.  It was suddenly hard to breathe, despite the clean ocean air surrounding them.  He scanned the sky above him, making out the lightening of the coming dawn. 

What unit were you with?  A simple question.  One he’d heard regs ask each other a thousand times.  It was the first time one had ever asked him.

It doesn’t matter.  (Except it did.  It always had.)

Humor me.  I could use the distraction.  

Clone Force 99.  He’d been frozen, not with the cold, not even with the threat of certain death.  Answering the question had been somehow more difficult than standing perfectly still.

What happened to them?  

They’re… gone.  It had felt like a lie even as he said it.  Were they gone?

Was he?

Crosshair shivered, coming back to himself.  “It never occurred to him to leave a man behind.  Even though I told him I’d leave him in a heartbeat.”  He reached out, scratching Batcher on the spot on her neck she liked.  She leaned into it, tail wagging furiously.  Short spiky blue-gray hair clung to his glove, poking uncomfortably in spots through the fabric, but he only scratched harder.  

He finished the third paw.  “Almost done.  Worst for last.”  She wiggled away, panting, but he fixed her with a sharp look.  “Give it.”  He took the last paw, the one with the deep tear, and hoped the numbing gel had done its work.  He pulled out a vial of tissue glue.  Batcher sniffed it and growled.  “It’s this or a bandage.  Trust me, you’ll prefer this.”  

He carefully daubed the glue at the edges of the torn pad, hoping it would take.  She’d be less irritated if the torn pad could cover the wound, and there was a chance it could reattach and heal more quickly that way.  He wished they’d found it earlier; the edges of the pad were extra dry, and he wasn’t sure if they were still vital or not.  

Well, he’d have to keep checking it.  This would do for now.

Batcher sat quietly, only fidgeting a little.  Around them, the sky continued lightening, hints of color -- gold and orange -- starting up on the horizon.  Birds began to stir.  Focused on the wound, Crosshair found himself talking again.

“We were trapped in an avalanche,” he murmured.  “Mayday shoved me out of the way… saved me again.  I tried to save him.”  

He’d tried.  Oh, how he’d tried.  For a moment the gentle cool air of Pabu was a raging blizzard, the gold-edged sky a flare of blue-white mist.  The chill sank into his bones, and he shivered again, trying to hold her paw steady.  Even now he could only half-remember the terrible journey back to the outpost, the day and night of vicious, unending cold, Mayday heavy and wounded against him.  His breath came too fast, his chest searing.

“I couldn’t,” he whispered.  “I didn’t.”  He hung his head, dropping the hound’s patched-up paw, and rested his hand on her shoulder.

His neck prickled.  It’s about knowing when you’ve got eyes on you.  His shoulders slumped, and without turning around, he raised his voice.  “How long have you been there?”

Hunter’s voice, expected, familiar.  Of course.  “... a few minutes.”

“Still spying on me?” Crosshair asked, but without any real venom.  He didn’t have it in him, not after the fight with the ice wyrm, not after their talk earlier.  He heard the gate open behind him, and Hunter’s quiet footsteps approached closer until his brother sat down beside him.

“Not intentionally,” said Hunter, shrugging.  “Echo will be heading out soon.  Figured I’d come back here to get some sleep.”  He nodded to the hound, stretching out his hand.  “Everything all right?”  Batcher sniffed his hand, then licked it enthusiastically.  Hunter scratched her chin.

“The hound should be fine,” Crosshair said.  “Hurt her paws on the ice.”

“Omega will be glad you fixed her up,” Hunter said.  “You and Tech were always handiest with the medpacs.”

Crosshair sniffed.  “Except Tech actually knew what he was doing.”  They both fell quiet.  Tech always knew what he was doing.  Until --

He only knew the barest details of what happened.  He still wasn’t sure he would ever be able to ask for more, not when every mention of his brother still made his gut clench.  The birdsong swelled around them as the sky blushed gold, and he and Hunter sat with the silence, with the missing space.  

The quiet stretched, weighing on both of them.  Crosshair knew he could say nothing.  Could pretend Hunter hadn’t snuck up on him, could assume he hadn’t heard a thing about what he’d muttered to the hound, could get up and go inside and grab some sleep.  But he had to know.  

“What did you hear?” Crosshair asked quietly, looking down at his hands, at the tremor starting.  He slid his right hand behind him, where Hunter couldn’t see.

Hunter looked away.  He hadn’t seen.  Had he?  “Back at the outpost, I saw you with those helmets.  I wondered.  This Mayday… was he one of them?”

“Commander Mayday,” Crosshair said automatically.  It was important to say it.

“You lost him.”  It wasn’t a question.  Crosshair braced for it, the look of judgment, the disapproval.  But Hunter turned his gaze back to him, his dark eyes merely thoughtful. 

“It didn’t have to be that way.”  It was too painful to explain the cruelty of it all to Hunter, the guarded crates, the men’s patched armor, their loyalty discarded like another broken piece of equipment, the hiss of “clone.”  He didn’t try.  He just reached out and petted Batcher again, his hand shaking against her fur.  He hoped Hunter wouldn’t notice.  “He was a good soldier.  I tried to --”  He let out a long breath, ducking his head.  “I did everything I could.  The lieutenant could have helped him.  But he wasn’t worth the resources.”  Hatred burned the back of his throat with the word.

Hunter nodded, reaching up to clasp his shoulder.  Crosshair closed his eyes, the weight of his brother’s hand on his shoulder both utterly alien, and yet as natural as breathing.  He leaned into it, and Hunter’s hand was steady, solid, trusting.

For a moment, it felt like the old days.

He looked back at Hunter, and his brother’s face softened, a flicker of sadness shifting through his eyes like a passing shadow.  “I know this isn’t easy.  Talking’s not --”

“My strong suit?” Crosshair cracked, managing a short huff of a laugh.  “Mhm.”  It had come easier than he’d thought it would, though.  Something in his chest seemed to have loosened, like he could breathe more freely.

Hunter chuckled.  “Right.  Not always mine, either.  But hey.  We managed not to kill each other out there.”  

“True.”

He dropped his hand from Crosshair’s shoulder, reaching out and petting Batcher, who had curled up and falling asleep.  She kicked her foot contentedly as he scratched.  His voice was rough.  “I wish things had been different.  For Commander Mayday.  For all of us.”

Crosshair nodded slowly.  There were too many things to count -- Tantiss, Tech, Barton IV.  Further back, Desix, Kamino, Bracca, Kaller.  He could take none of it back.  

The only path remaining was forward.  

Crosshair clambered to his feet, reaching down and giving Hunter a hand.  Hunter took it without a beat, letting himself be helped up.  

“Come on,” Crosshair said, squinting into the dawn.  “It’s late.”

“Early.”

“Whatever.”

Hunter laughed.  “All right then.  Coming?” he asked the hound.  Batcher rolled up to her feet, frisking around them, no sign now of a limp.  “Looks like you did good work.”

Crosshair watched her prance, painless and happy.  “Just doing my part,” he said.  She nuzzled his hand, then bounded toward the building, sitting patiently by the door.  He crossed the yard to join her, passing Hunter.

“Crosshair?”

“Yes?”  

“It’s good to have you back.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, but more warmly than usual.  The door opened for him, and Crosshair stepped inside, a half-smile tugging at his face.  

It was good to be back.

[archivistofnerddom]

The Batch + Life In Retirement On Pabu

Slightly AU: Tech lives, though he’s got a prosthetic leg as a result of his fall.

Hunter’s fashion sense swiftly nose-dives into that of every dad at an amusement park. Don’t ask why that happened so quickly. It just did. He’s rocking cargo shorts, corny shirts, and comfy shoes like they’re going out of style. (Crosshair gave him a tactical fanny pack as a joke. Hunter wears it all the time with all due seriousness.) It takes years for the rest of the Batch to get him to branch out from that.

Tech alternates between his space jeans and sweatpants, depending on his mood. The sweatpants were necessary when he first got his prosthetic leg during his post-Eriadu recovery process. He too starts wearing ironic shirts, but somehow makes them more fashionable than Hunter.

Crosshair has the widest selection of island-appropriate hats and sunglasses anyone has ever seen. No one knows how he gets so many, and he’s certainly not going to tell on himself. Omega is the reason why he has so many floral-print shirts though.

Wrecker discovers overalls and pretty much lives in them. No less than half of his overalls have the legs cut off at the knees. This is more practical than fashionable though. He’s just so big that he has a hard time finding pants that fit him at the waist and have a long enough pant leg.

Omega finally gets to decide on her preferred style now that they’re permanently in one place. She still wears a lot of hand-me-downs from her brothers though. Omega spends a lot of time helping out around the island, so she needs clothes that no one minds her getting dirty or ruined when she’s working on a project.

Echo has an extensive collection of sarongs he stores on Pabu that he only busts out when he’s visiting. Rex knows not to ask Echo to do anything if he sees him wearing one. (Visiting the family on Pabu is the only time Echo gets a break or a chance to relax and destress.)

Batcher gets a pretty collar and a massively cushy bed. Someone starts bringing her sweaters to wear when she gets cold. (Crosshair is the leading suspect. Hunter won’t confess to anything.)

Wrecker has an extremely extensive cookbook and recipe collection. He picks up cooking as a hobby post-retirement, and he is really good at it. Given the diversity of people and species on Pabu, Wrecker spends a lot of time learning different recipes from across the galaxy.

Crosshair and Wrecker go fishing together pretty regularly. They don’t say a lot during those times, but that’s okay. Crosshair enjoys spotting where the best fishing areas are. Wrecker just sits back and lets his baby brother take the lead on this. (He brings snacks and a cooler of drinks to keep them fed and hydrated when they decide to make a day of it.)

Tech upgrades the Archeum to improve how things are stored and protected. Omega helps out. They spend a lot of time adding details about the specific items housed therein, including any historical details, cultural relevance, and any notes about how best to handle the items. They’re working with Phee on an oral history component to the Archeum as well, so that the stories about the items in the Archeum and the residents of Pabu are preserved.

Crosshair makes hammocks and strings them up around the island in random places. He says it’s so that he can take a nap wherever and whenever. Really, it’s just his contribution to life on Pabu. (Plus, making hammocks were good physical therapy when he got his new prosthetic hand.)

Omega instituted regular family game night. (Echo is expected to be there as his work with Rex allows.) Depending on their moods, Batch family game night is either extremely chill or extremely cutthroat. There is no in-between.

Wrecker is the first one to “move out” of the shared family house. It’s only because he built an upgraded kitchen with a huge family room attached. The shared family home couldn’t accommodate those upgrades. His house is two houses down and is still where everyone eats dinner almost every night.

Tech moved out second. He moved in with Phee. It was a combination of their evolving romantic relationship and him wanting to be closer to the island repair shop that he runs in his spare time. (Tech became the island’s mechanic once he recovered from the injuries he sustained on Eriadu.)

Hunter develops a massive green thumb. The family shared house (which eventually is just him, Omega, and Crosshair full-time) is overflowing with plant life. He built and maintains a greenhouse for Wrecker to grow speciality plants for his cooking.

Echo usually crashes with Wrecker when he comes to visit. Wrecker renovated part of his house to be prosthetic leg friendly and got a really comfy recliner for Echo. Crosshair put in a hammock for Echo in the backyard.

Crosshair, Hunter, and Omega go on early morning runs together. It’s their bonding time.

Tech upgraded the whole family’s prosthetic limbs many times over the years. Hunter made a point of keeping the older models as a reminder of how far they’ve come since they retired.

Batcher is the most spoiled dog on the island. She adores the attention and winds up becoming the unofficial therapy dog for every new resident and refugee who finds their way to Pabu.

[the-bi-space-ace]

I've had a really miserable week. Cried a lot of tears. Lost a lot of sleep. Sickness is running through my home again. So, in light of that, have these little snippets from a sick fic I was working on as a gift. Featuring our favorite grumpy duo: Echo and Crosshair. Because they always make me feel better.

Sick of You

draft title bc it made me laugh

Echo pressed the back of his hand to Crosshair's forehead only for it to be slapped away with a grumble. He repressed a sigh at this ridiculous bundle of blankets on the bunk, instead sitting back in the chair to observe him.

Fever, congestion, body aches, stuffy nose. Average cold, nothing to worry about. However the rest of the batch had tasked him with watching over Crosshair while they went on the supply run. That might be the scariest mission Echo has ever taken on.

Amidst the mountain of blankets was Crosshair, bundled up and curled underneath at least four of them. Technically he should rearrange him, make him drink some water, get some hot food in his stomach, but it had been bad enough just getting him off to bed in the first place.

There was a ridiculous little pout to Crosshair's face that reminded Echo of a cadet. Grumpy from not feeling well coupled with being stuck in a confined space. Crosshair didn't do sick well, Echo realized. It was the first time he'd seen any of the batch sick and boy oh boy was it quite the introduction.

...

“Do you want me to tuck you in?” Echo asked with a grin. If looks could kill. Crosshair huffed irritably, folding his blankets tighter around himself and deliberately turning away from Echo. With a shake of his head Echo took pity, finally standing from his seat and giving a gentle pat to the grumpy bundle before making his way towards the cockpit. “Yell if you're dying." He was nearly all the way there before a muffled voice called out.

"You don't have to sit in the cockpit, ya know." It came out scratchy, stuffy, and Echo couldn't help but turn around to consider the man that had done everything but bite him in thanks for all the doting. Regardless, he easily took his seat at the bedside again, grabbing his datapad and leaning back.

“I'll be right here if you need me.” Echo assured. There were a few reports he could knock out while he kept watch. Truthfully he preferred to be in the same room as someone else but was simply surprised that Crosshair didn't want to hide for the duration of an illness. Maybe the silence would allow his prickly patient a nap. Echo would be able to go fix them something hot to drink and maybe coax Cross out of bed. There was this really simple soup recipe Fives used to love. The batch might be able to find some ingredients in town.

Crosshair let out a sneeze, face pinching as if he had a personal vendetta against it. If Crosshair could physically fight the common cold he might. He'd lose but he'd throw a few punches for sure. Echo let the datapad lay on his lap, still reading over the words in front of him, then absentmindedly smoothed his hand over the blankets.

“Shut up.” Crosshair muttered. How disgruntled could one man truly be over a cold? Over someone trying to care for him during that cold? He didn't remove his hand, just found Crosshair's shoulder to give it a good squeeze before continuing slow strokes over his arm.

"Didn't say anything." Echo continued to smile at his datapad, having to bite back a laugh at the glare being aimed at him.

"You're thinking it. I can hear you from here." Crosshair complained.