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jedi-lothwolf · 10 months

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Merry Whumpmas Day 1: Hospital

Fandom: Star Wars The Bad Batch

Summary: Echo has to go to the hospital after cutting his hand open. Tech goes with him to help his stay calm as he tries not to think about Skako Minor.

Echo hated hospitals. They scared him. They seemed to quite and to loud for his liking. He hated being around them but even more he hated being in them.

Pabu was a beautiful place. Even that wouldn't ease Echo's mind as Tech and him walked towards their hospital.

"Are you sure we have to go?" Echo asked.

"The laseration in your palm is deep. It will need stitches. Maybe be more careful around knives next time." Tech kept walking forwards. "It should be a simple procedure. They will numb your hand and stitch it. You will have to come back to get the stitches out."

"Why can't we wrap it?"

"Bacta is not something overly easy to come by so they need to preserve it. So do we."

"Alright."

Hospitals were to clean, to blank, and to bright. Even though Echo didn't remember much from when he was with the Techno Union, he did remember some things.

It was cold and white. It smelled too clean. Echo shook his head. He tried to clear his mind. As they arrived the clone paused. "I don't think I can go in."

"I understand this may be difficult for you. Trauma is not easy to overcome. We will take it slowly. Or at least we will try. Can I provide some form of comfort to you?" Tech walked up to be right beside him. Despite his slightly robotic tone, Echo knew he was genuine.

Nothing came to mind. The domino tried to find anything that might help. even in the slightest. But there was nothing. "Just stay close?" He shook.

"I intend to." Tech started to walk forward.

Echo had been right. Exam rooms always looked the same. He sat in his, trying not to cry as a droid came in to look at his hand. Tech intervened quickly and asked if there was a living doctor there. The droid seemed offended but Tech didn't seem to notice. Still he went to grab a doctor.

Just as Echo had feared, all he could think about was the Techno Union. He thought about how the only memories he had were before he was put in the tube he was found in. Memories filled with pain and suffering.

Memories of droids that had stood over him, putting him back together. The few thoughts he had had been wondering if he should have survived or about what happened to the others; what would happen to him. The pain, though only a memory, had been the worst thing he had ever physically felt.

That pain could never compare to the pain that would come with healing from what had happened to him. That pain could never compare to the pain of losing your brothers.

Even now he wasn't completely healed. It felt like those droid's scalpels just kept cutting. Maybe he would never heal? Maybe those wounds would never scar.

Those droids had stood in a clean, white room. When thinking about it, it only ever reminded him of hospital rooms. Sometimes the people nearby cities or towns would let the clones use their hospitals. Other than that, Echo had never been in a hospital.

But now he knew why he feared them so much. They looked just like that room he had been put back together in. Even if his time on Skako Minor was a blur, he knew that this was what the room looked like.

A chill went down Echo's metal spine. He looked over at Tech who stood near the door. He wanted to call for him but his voice hung in his throat. The tears he had been trying so hard to hold back started to slide down his face.

Tech turned around and walked to his side. Unsure of what to say, he just sat with him. He had learned that he wasn't very good at handling current emotional reactions and crying was one of them. Echo reached for his brother and cried into his shoulder.

The doctor opened the door but stopped. She stood in the doorway, confused and slightly concerned. "Is everything alright?" She asked kindly.

"My brother suffers with trauma related to rooms that look similar to this one. Let him calm down." Tech never even looked at her. He just, somewhat awkwardly, held Echo.

Soon he was able to think a little better. He moved from his place in Techs arms to look at the doctor. She had gone to get him some ice chips and had just gotten back. "ice chips?" She asked.

"Sure." Echo didn't question why she had brought him ice chips of all things. He reached for one but hissed as he remembered why he was there. Tech took the cup and ate one of the pieces of ice.

"Let's get that taken care of." The doctor talked to Echo through the whole thing. It helped being able to focus on something else. When she was done, they were sent to the front to check out and then they could leave.

As they left the building Tech spoke. "That could have been worse" he said.

"Yeah. It could have been."

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delicateartisantrash · 2 years

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Excerpt from "Scoped Out"

I will likely never post the full fic in its entirety, as it is very much not a properly organized story like most my other writings. I just write whatever comes to mind to de-stress, so the scenes jump around a bit.

Anyhow, this is a cute scene with Crosshair for a mildly force-sensitive, female Reader character who ends up joining the Bad Batch as a janitor to take care of the barracks on Kamino, after helping them escape a newly occupied Separatist city that they were living in. The Reader (aka 'Butterfly' as she's been nicknamed) was injured during the escape from her home planet, so she's been healing on the Havoc Marauder on the way back to Kamino. Also, fight me, I tweaked canon with my magical keyboard powers and made Crosshair's bunk the one most easily accessible from ground-level, rather than Hunter's. It's fanfic, roll with it.

I have all kinds of ideas about toothpicks.

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“How long will we be in hyperspace for?” you wonder from where you lay on your back, scooted as far over in Crosshair’s bunk as you can get to make room for Omega, who lounges on her back next to you, legs bent, a datapad in her hand. She’s been chatting your ears off for the last hour or two, which you’ve welcomed sincerely. Hunter keeps looking over at you both like he’s worried his kid is pestering you -- because despite the men all referring to Omega as their little sister, you have a feeling Hunter has a more paternal stake in his feelings. In any case, wherever she is, he’s not far behind you’ve noticed. Echo is a short second, at least in terms of supervising, but you’ve noticed Wrecker spends a lot of time with her as well.

“About three days is what Tech said, but Echo thinks it will be more like four,” she answers absently, still focused on the datapad before she brightens, and turns it to show you a photo of the entire squadron on some forested planet, posed together for a picture. “Here! This is it, this is when Wrecker had the art done on his armor.”

Though she’s showing off the photo to embellish a detail in her storytelling, the first thing you notice in the picture is Crosshair’s expression.

Unlike most the photos Omega has shown you, in this one, the tall sniper is smiling. Not a smirk, a taunting gloat, or his resting frown, but an easy, good-natured smile that softens the entire features of his face.

You’re not aware you’re staring, transfixed, until Omega suddenly turns the datapad around to look at the screen herself, an eyebrow raised.

“What are you looking at…?” she wonders, her eyes flicking rapidly back and forth as she no doubts studies the photo

“Nothing,” you say without meaning to; your ears feel warm.

Omega gasps, and beams at the photo she’s looking at.

“I was just looking at--”

“Hi, Crosshair!” Omega blurts suddenly, lifting her head up off the pillow.

You jerk your head to look up at him, not having heard him approach, fighting to keep your expression neutral. His eyes linger on you for a moment before flicking down to the datapad Omega is holding, and he pulls the toothpick out of his mouth to address her.

“Hey, kid. What are you doing?” he wonders, holding out his hand. Omega beams up at him as she easily passes the holopad over, and the man studies the group photo on the screen for several moments, before a smile tugs at the corner of his lips, softening his features.

You know you’re staring, and if anyone calls you on it, you will absolutely blame it on the medicines’ lingering after-effects.

Crosshair hands the device back to Omega, the smile gone but his features still softer than before, the hard line of his brows relaxed into an amiable expression.

“That was an interesting mission. Ask Hunter to tell you what the inside of a Kobbo-bo looks like,” he suggests with a smirk.

From the cockpit, Hunter’s muffled voice shouts something along the lines of “Kriff off, Cross!”

Omega’s eyes go wide and round, her mouth dropping open.

“Whaaaaaaat?” she gasps, and before either of you can say anything, the girl flips herself off the bunk and bolts down the ship for the cockpit as Crosshair watches her go, amused. You’re blinking after her, rather glad she managed not to jostle you on her hasty way out, because--

You just about jump out of your skin when the mattress dips a bit beside you, and Crosshair settles himself down onto the vacated spot, leaning against the wall with his upper shoulders and neck. The pillow Omega had been using, stolen from Echo’s bunk, fills the small gap and braces his back. He’s skinny enough that he fits in Omega’s place just fine, though his much broader shoulders fill the space completely as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You gape at him, but the sniper’s eyes are already closed as he lets his head fall back, resting against the wall with a tired sigh.

After a few moments, heart fluttering, you slowly relax, knowing your cheeks are probably as pink as Echo’s had been during The Refresher Incident.

“I’m not Hunter,” Crosshair abruptly speaks, breaking the silence, “but even I can tell your heart accelerates every time I come near you. Why is that?” he wonders.

“How can you tell?” you ask as exactly that starts happening again, your heart pounding in your ears. You don’t even bother to deny it, wondering what his intentions are in asking in the first place.

Eyes you can mistake as golden when the light hits them just right, as it does now, open to slant sideways down at you.

“Every detail in my scope of vision is observed and processed at precisely the same time,” he explains quietly, and suddenly, you feel a shiver creeping over your skin for every time you’ve thought he wasn’t paying attention to you in his peripheral vision. “Many lifeform’s pulses are strong enough that I can see the movement of the fabric, if not the veins themselves,” he explains, his gaze never leaving yours. “Hold still long enough, and even your eyes should be able to focus on it. Mine see details like that without having to try,” he explains, then smirks. “Echo thinks I called you a butterfly because of your hairpiece.”

Your heart stutters. Crosshair is the one who coined the source of your nickname?

“Why did you call me Butterfly?” you ask curiously, aware your face is warm as you hold perfectly still, trying not to betray yourself as easily as you apparently had been. You don't think it's working.

His lips tug further up on one side, and Crosshair’s gaze flicks down briefly before he straightens his head forward again, eyes drifting shut. His lips still curve in a little, easy smirk that is doing dangerous things to your insides, hanging out on a face like that.

“Your heart flutters like a winged insect,” he drawls, almost poetic.

“Ah…” is your articulate reply.

His smirk turns into a smile.

“Your pupils dilate,” he continues, conversationally. “Your gaze drifts around like you can’t focus. Shift your weight, flare your nostrils, turn pink as a burra fruit,” he lists off. “You’re watching me when you think I’m looking elsewhere.”

Kriff, had you been staring at him that much?

This close to him, you can practically sense his easy mood and amusement. You want to say he looks smug, but there’s more to it than that.

A single honey-brown eye opens to peek at you, neatly framed by his severe tattoo.

“Um,” you manage. It’s a start. Stars, you’re trying to form words to speak, but all you can manage is staring up at him, unable to look away.

“Hm,” he answers.

Hesitantly, you shift your shoulders and reach over with your right arm. Crosshair’s gaze immediately shifts to watch the progress of your hand directly, his head leaning back a bit on reflex as you near his face.

Your fingers still shake a little bit, especially with lifting your arm this high up from your chest, but you manage to neatly pluck the toothpick from his mouth, then tuck it between your own lips, rolling it over your teeth with your tongue until you settle it comfortably in the corner, watching him.

The possessive gleam in his eyes sends heat pooling in your belly.

You thought you were being very clever, showing him you’re interested in intimacy without having to say it out loud with your tongue being tied up in knots. It’s probably better you don’t say it out loud anyhow, with how many ears are on the ship. You’re pretty sure Hunter has already figured out your little crush, but he’s not made any mention of it.

Your mouth nearly drops open when Crosshair abruptly turns at the hips at the same time he pushes off from the wall and leans down. His face fills your vision as he hovers over you without coming into contact, the scent of campfire smoke, that perpetual metal-and-oil scent that weaponry has, and his own personal scent clouding your nose.

Crosshair bites the other end of the toothpick and easily plucks it from your mouth, holding your gaze.

Breathless, your fingers twitch, wanting to grab him, but you hold yourself back, acutely aware of how not alone you both are on the ship.

As if to punctuate the thought, you hear footsteps approaching as someone leaves the front of the ship.

By the time Echo appears in view, you’ve thrown an arm over your eyes to feign sleep, and Crosshair has returned to a relaxed state leaning against the wall with crossed-arms, rolling the toothpick idly in his teeth.

#Crosshair #Tbb #The Bad Batch #drabble #one-shot part of a larger story #but it can be read by itself #I just think this is a cute scene #that toothpick has potential #Can I be honest? I started writing this fic for Crosshair plot but then I got distracted by Echo #I can't decide between those two men #They're both so fascinating #I should share that Refresher Incident scene #that was funny #poor Echo

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