#sad Wrecker

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 7

Part (7) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Gonna call this the halfway point, maybe

Warnings: impatience toward a child (kinda? I mean, yuh know... Crosshair), guilt, medical procedure/ gore, fantasy profanity (that warning always makes me giggle), sexual innuendo ish, gonna also add romantic tension because it's not really sexual tension, self-depreciating thoughts, body horror

WC: 3,755

“That's my arm… leg… That's still my arm…” There was a faint growl in the sigh that followed as the child continued pestering the irritated sniper, and my lips ached from how tightly I had to bite them to hold back my grin.

Wrecker offered none of my self-restraint, expression softened beneath a deep warmth, though there was no hiding the underlying sorrow in his gaze.

“How's the leg?” I asked quietly, attention focused on checking Hunter's chest tube and vitals before moving to look over Tech as well. He gave an almost bored shrug.

“Hurts a bit, but not like before.” He didn't take his eyes off the pair across from him as he spoke.

“When we reach the Marauder, I’ll give you something to relax, then we'll see if Cross and I can get it back in.” I told him gently. He let out a quiet hum in response.

“Think she means your armor.” He called out, voice still strangely hushed. I glanced over my shoulder to see Crosshair shoot his brother an unamused glare, but, when the girl pointed to his forearm, he let out resigned huff.

“Vambrace." He said, word perfectly monotone, and the excited gasp that followed left him dropping his face heavily into his hand, instantly drawing a wide smile across my lips. Wrecker returned that smile only briefly before sinking back into a quiet shame.

“She'll warm up to you.” I promised, leaning over to bump my shoulder against his, but he merely replied with a halfhearted nod.

The girl still hadn’t said a word, soundlessly communicating with a nod or a frown, though her expressions were so vibrant, we needed little assistance in understanding her. Meanwhile, Hunter and Tech remained unconscious. Though both were stable, the longer Tech’s arm remained in that tourniquet, the greater the risk of it causing damage to the limb.

“N- Those aren’t toys.” Cross nearly snapped, only belatedly forcing his voice into a tense murmur. I looked back to see the girl still tugging at one of the reflector disks at his waist, undeterred. He let out a poorly stifled growl before snatching at one of the disks and tossing it to her, earning a beaming grin.

“Why don’t yuh sit down? We’re still a few minutes away, an’ yuh look beat.”  Wrecker asked softly. An excuse danced readily over my tongue, but, as I turned to face him, as I noted the gentle concern in his bright eyes, that excuse faded before ever being granted voice. And he was far from wrong. I felt the way my shoulders sagged despite some lingering attempt to fight back that oppressive exhaustion, the weariness of muscles long since pleading for respite, and I couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh.

“Maybe you’re right.” I murmured quietly. “Just for a bit.” He offered a small grin as I settled into the seat beside him, gaze wandering over Crosshair once more with an air of amusement at his resigned glare while the girl practically sat in his lap as she leaned over to tap his bandoleer.

The medbay of the Marauder was never meant for this; it was meant to offer only a liminal reprieve while en route to a proper medical center, more akin to a transport than a place of actual healing, but this was war, and what was once the bare minimum quickly became fantastical ideals in the face of necessity. There was no surgical suite. There was no hope for sterility nor endless supply of equipment, but none of that changed the reality of what was before me; Tech would either bleed out or lose his arm if I couldn’t locate and fix the vessels that had been severed in the crash.

He lay unconscious atop my bed; the same bed in which he’d spent nearly a week suffering beneath the horrors of withdrawal from those wretched fungal spores; the same bed that had seen each of the brothers relax upon as I eased their aches with leisurely massages; the same bed Crosshair and I had slept together in nearly every night since the loss of my brother.

It felt like I’d barely slept a few minutes when Wrecker woke me. A quick glance at my chrono confirmed exactly that, but we’d reached the Marauder, and there simply wasn't time for anything more. I rubbed weary hands over my eyes, forcing back the nausea that so often followed in the wake of a far too short rest, and pretended not to notice how closely Crosshair was watching me.

With his help, we'd gotten Wrecker on board first, then Hunter. The movement had woken him, and we’d barely made it up the ramp before he shrugged us off. I’d nearly objected, nearly thrown the words “chest-tube" and “collapsed lung" at him through snarled lips, and demanded he let us help, but the handful of steps weren't worth the fight, and, at the moment, Tech was in far greater danger.

“What do you need?” Crosshair asked, shoulders drawn back, eyes hard as he studied the pale form of his brother between us. I’d almost taken a moment to find something for him to do, some way for him to help, but I didn’t have time to walk him through how to help, nor did I have the energy.

“I’ve got him.” I promised quietly, already guiding a pair of shears around Tech’s shoulder to cut away the sleeve. “You should talk to the girl – no, I mean actually talk to her.” It wasn’t scolding, but, from the disdain that twisted his face, it might as well have been. “She may know something,” I pressed, “and, right now, she seems to like you the most.” His shoulders sank, eyes narrowing into a weak glare, but he knew I was right.

“I'm not a damn babysitter.” I had to fight back a smirk at the indignation in his voice, stealing a quick breath to quiet myself before responding.

“So, interrogate her. Nicely.” His glare deepened, but I merely rolled my eyes.

“I don't do nice.” He hissed, drawing a sigh from me. Movements unrushed by impatience or annoyance, I set down the sheers and walked around the bed toward him, lips barely hinting at a warm smile.

“I think we both know that's not true.” I murmured softly. He started to object, scowl just beginning to twist his face, but the heat behind it faded as I reached for him, hand moving up to brush lightly over his chest before caressing his jaw, his cheek, fingers subtly pulling him down. “You can be very sweet.” That harshness abandoned him as he let himself be drawn toward me.

“Just because you get special treatment doesn't mean I've gone soft.” He tried to rebuke, lips even tensing with the beginnings of a frown, but, again, his retort fell into something far too gentle for the words he’d said, annoyance robbed by the sight of the grin toying with my lips.

“We’ll have to talk more about that ‘special treatment’ later,” I nearly teased, “but, right now, Echo needs to focus on monitoring troop movement, Hunter and Tech are both out, and she's…” I didn't want to say it, the words cloying up my throat, “she’s afraid of Wrecker… You're the only one she trusts enough to hopefully open up to.” With an almost growled sigh, he stood back to his full height, reluctantly pulling away from me as his jaw jut forward, narrowed gaze turning toward the door.

“Seems to trust you just find, too.” He pointed out. I released a slow breath, exhaustion unsatiated by those few minutes of rest stolen during the flight now making itself known once more through both weariness and the beginnings of an impatience I fought to stem.

“I can't take care of Tech and talk to her, Crosshair.” I tried not to let my voice fall into a grumble, but it was near enough to draw his attention back to me, shoulders sinking slightly at what he saw, and my jaw tensed as I caved beneath the urge to look away.

“Alright.” The way the innate rasp in his voice quieted into a careful whisper sent a flutter of warmth through my chest, the heat of it both comforting and crippling as it stripped me of the meager strength granted by an impatience I was simply too tired to fully hide, and what stillness followed as my eyes rose to find him studying me with a concern that nearly brought a flush to my cheeks was a far too gentle thing amidst the knowledge of what grizzly tasks still awaited me.

I replied only with a grateful nod, lips tensing with a smile I couldn't quite manage before turning back to Tech. Crosshair didn't move at first, and I wondered what thoughts held him for those handful of seconds. Was he searching for some final excuse that might convince me to withdraw my request and free him of his dreaded task? Or was he waiting for me to falter, unconvinced by the determination I forced back into my eyes as I returned to his brother’s side?

Regardless if his hesitation was from doubt or concern or reluctance, he waited only a moment before finally leaving, granting me an isolation that offered just as much strife as it did comfort, absolving me of the need to maintain some façade that I might pretend I wasn’t fighting how heavily my shoulders sagged the instant the door slid shut even as it emphasized just how alone I was in this. After doing what I could for Tech, I'd need to check Hunter again before moving on to Wrecker. There was no luxury of a break, no hope for reprieve lest I risk sacrificing the well-being and safety of my men. So, I allowed myself to waste no more time, gaze traveling over the deep gash marring Tech's upper arm.

We like to feign knowledge even where nothing can be guaranteed. The human body exists in a constant state of change, and even aspects held as fact cannot be relied upon in the face of independent cases. Anatomy is based on averages which, at best, grant perfunctory guidance and, at worst, acts only as a distraction. Even clones proved far more unique than the Kaminoans liked to believe. Genetics may offer a foundation, but who and what we become develop independent of, and occasionally in spite of, that primordial code, from the moral of our character to how our actions alter the physicality of muscle and bone through years of hardship and abuse. Anatomy claims knowledge of where veins and arteries nestle beneath skin and tissue, but immaculate diagrams and ancient names meant nothing amidst the gore of shredded flesh and thickening blood.

It felt like hours passed in the span of a single, endlessly held breath as I carefully sought out severed vessels, each one needing meticulous care to be knit back together around a shunt and flushed of all threat of clots. Repairing the muscle was easier, and I was relieved to find no severed tendons. Still, the moment I finally released the tourniquet, my heart raced faster with each passing second, eyes glued to the monitors for any signs of distress. Did I miss something? Had I taken too long? Symptoms of compartment syndrome, limb ischemia, embolisms, stroke, and endless other complications roared through my head. If anything happened, if he was hurt even worse because I wasn’t careful enough or quick enough, there was no one to blame but me… But his heartbeat remained steady… There was no sudden change in protein levels in his blood… Still, I couldn't let myself breathe… not yet… I set what equipment I had to monitor him for any change, but... he seemed okay.

I watched him for a long moment, as though my very presence might delay or prevent complications, locked in that fear that something would go wrong the instant I so much as blinked, before forcing myself to walk away. There was more that needed to be done.

Strides heavy, I trudged through the door, absently working a wet cloth between my hands. Logically, I knew the latex gloves worked as intended, that my skin was untainted from his blood just as his wound was safe from whatever bacteria thrived on my fingertips, but I could still feel it: thick and viscous and everywhere, the scent of which clung to me just as relentlessly as the nauseating texture.

“Doc?”

My eyes darted up to find Wrecker watching me carefully, concern heavy atop his brow as his jaw hung open with an unspoken question, body frozen where he stood in the kitchenette, hand still outstretched toward a cabinet.

“Wrecker, what are you doing up?” I asked quickly, already trotting forward.

“Uh, just… figured I’d get the kid somethin’ to eat.” He answered absently, thoughts clearly elsewhere.  “Tech…” He started, and I realized why he seemed so distracted, chest bucking with a sharp inhale to answer him quickly.

“Recovering.” He let out a small sigh at my quiet reassurance. “There was a lot of damage, but it looks like I was able to repair it in time to keep the tourniquet from causing even more problems.” He was just about to reply, lips pulled into a relieved grin, but I interrupted him, words just shy of biting. “Speaking of ‘causing even more damage'…” There was a brief moment in which he seemed honestly confused. It took a mere flick of my eyes toward his knee, however, for a light blush and nervous smile to wash over him.

“Ah, well… with you being so busy, and we can all tell yuh need a break, Cross an’ Echo helped to just…” He motioned innocently toward the leg as he lifted it, bending the limb a few times as if to prove it was fine, but his hope for forgiveness crumbled amidst the darkness I could feel stealing over my expression. I knew they hadn't used muscle relaxers – I didn't keep any in my pack and no one had tried to sneak into the medbay while I tended Tech.

“Sit.” I ordered firmly, pointing to the small table. He hesitated, but held back whatever excuse or objection bated across his tongue as he sulked to the nearest chair. Without another word, I marched back into the hall, boots clicking loudly against the metal walkway as though to emphasize my annoyance.

The bunks were empty, as was the cabin when I entered it. Upon leaning down to grab my pack, however, footsteps sounded from the fore of the ship. I paused as Crosshair approached, not trying to hide the lingering annoyance from my gaze. He hesitated, confusion drawing his brows together.

“What?” The defensive snarl in his voice only furthered my irritation.

“I'll deal with you and Echo later.” I stated firmly. His expression pinched with indignation, but I didn't grant him time to form a retort before starting back toward mess, unable to deny the slight taste of pleasure at the note of apprehension that stilled any urge he may have had to follow with a sharp-tongued quip.

Wrecker hadn’t moved from the chair, hands thoughtlessly picking at his glove as he waited for me to return. His eyes snapped toward me as soon as the door opened. Whatever annoyance or anger I’d had abandoned me at the almost pitiful look on his face, tension fleeing me with a slow sigh.

“Didn’t mean to make yuh mad…” he muttered, teeth working over the inside of his cheek, and I had to fight the guilt that twisted through my chest.

“I’m not mad.” I whispered, walking quietly toward him. “I just… thought we were past this…” His head tilted slightly, looking at me with an uncertainty that further stoked my guilt. “This… dealing with things without me… Not letting me help you.” His eyes widened in understanding, back straightening as he drew a quick breath to respond, but I didn’t give him the chance.

“I know you’re strong.” He quickly stilled beneath the gentleness of my voice, the faintest hint of a blush just coloring his neck. “You’ve had to be – you and your brothers… You couldn’t rely on anyone else, so you had to figure out a way to survive alone – to make do…” As I spoke, I gently unwrapped the brace from his knee and held the scanner steadily over the still swollen joint, gaze studying the small screen. “And I know that you’ve taken on a lot more of that burden than anyone gives you credit for.” His shoulders sank slightly, gaze falling to the ground though he offered no objection.

“You calm them down when things get too heated… get them to laugh when everyone’s too angry or sad or tired to realize that that’s exactly what they need… what we need.” I corrected, acknowledging how often he’d done just that for me, as well. He remained silent, but I could feel his attention shift back to me as I began carefully working my hands over the wealth of muscle that tapered at the end of his thigh, touch flowing around areas the scan revealed to be damaged that I might ease some of the swelling before redressing it.

“I know it hurt.” I continued softly, a deep sympathy quieting my voice even further. “Reducing a dislocation… It feels a lot better afterwards, but…” Again, his lack of even a dismissive grunt only confirmed my statement. “And you… all that muscle…” I let my fingers spread over the dense cords stretching down his thigh, “It doesn’t matter how hard you try, with an injury like that, you can’t relax them. It’s an autonomic response, that’s why we use medication to help make them relax.” I glanced up at him to let him see the concern in my eyes as my hands returned to that careful, rhythmic ebb and flow along the abused tissue.

“I know you’re strong… probably barely even grunted when they did it… but forcing it like that, it can tear ligaments and tendons, and rip all that muscle that’s locked up trying to guard the joint… then it takes even longer to heal, and, even then, it usually doesn’t heal as well as it could have.” His jaw shifted absently to the side, teeth grinding in a mixture of guilt and resignation, rekindling my own guilt.

“I’m sorry.” I barely whispered it, hands coming to a stop atop the broad curve of his calf. A fresh confusion pulled at his handsome face, mismatched eyes studying me with a focus that was somehow just as quieting as it was penetrating.

To anyone else, seeing him like that, expression pinched with powerful brows drawn together and that broad jaw tensed enough to emphasize the cords of muscle lining his cheeks, he may have looked frightening. I knew others would have found him frightening… but I also knew what drove the intensity of his gaze; the desperate need to truly understand those around him; to read them before he might do or say something that would offend or scare absent need or intent. That’s why he was so gentle; so adept at buffering the fiery tempers of his brothers or, if the mood struck him, stoking the tempers of any unfortunate enough to garner his ire. Now, however, he stared at me like that neither to soothe nor harass. He studied me because those words didn’t make sense amidst the blame he believed himself responsible for, and he needed to understand before he could make it right. But I didn’t want him to feel that way. I only wanted him to be okay.

“I should have been faster.” I didn’t stop at the flash of realization that came over him, nor from the almost pained remorse that followed. “Leaving you with a dislocated knee for… hours – kriff… I really can’t blame you for wanting them to fix it any way they could.”

“Doc-” He called, shoulders sinking, but again fell silent as I looked up at him with a weary, apologetic smile.

“But next time,” I pressed, sowing something of a command back into my voice, “at least check with me first… Alright?” He was quiet for a moment longer before nodding, but the words that followed made my stomach sink.

“I mean… not like popping a knee back in is more important than saving Tech’s arm, so…” He said it was such offhanded disregard, body shifting in a dismissive shrug. When he looked at me, however, he froze, and I could only guess at the deep heartbreak surely painted across my face.

“You’re important.” I breathed the words into the too-great distance between us, pressing each one into existence with a desperate plea, begging him to believe me. “You’re important, Wrecker.” I said again, reaching up to cradle one of his hands between mine. It always surprised me; the sheer size of him. It was somehow so easy to forget amidst his vibrant, caring personality until moments like this when I could see how he dwarfed me, palm too wide for my fingers to fully wrap around.

That size also made it easy to imagine him as this invincible, impenetrable force, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’d seen how deeply the girl’s fear had wounded him, how beaten he looked from the mere threat of my anger, and I hated myself for having caused him such hurt, for ever allowing him to think of himself as lesser than his brothers. Chest jerking with a sharp inhale, I pulled his hand toward me, lips pressing gently against his knuckles, and I mourned the cause of every scar marring that stunning, calloused skin.

“I never want you to think you’re not… not to me.” His hand shifted ever so slightly between mine, twisting as though he meant to reach for me, fingertip only just brushing against my chin before he pulled away, throat shifting stiffly as he swallowed whatever thoughts he’d robbed of any hope of being born. With a final, jerked nod, he leaned back, and the room felt that much colder without the heat of his touch, but I merely drew a deep, steadying breath and let my attention return to his knee, already reaching for a tube of bacta.

“All right. You going to drop your pants, or do I need to cut them off of you?”

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[mroddmod]

everyone be quiet i'm manifesting

[colorfulsmayles24]

RIP to the setting of every Bad Batch fanfic

[alligatorpie1945]

Working on something big. So in the meantime enjoy a redraw of one of my old pieces. What’s more fun than sad children 😂

I need more practice with expressions, so I might even make more expression sheets.

[levi-venn]

Mirror Squad

An HC I need to get out of my head so I can move on with my life (Hah, jokes on you, Levi, Bad Batch is your life).

So...Hemlock created a mirror image of the Bad Batch called the Mirror Squad, but it's not what you think. Turns out these clones were the ORIGINAL Bad Batch.

Their names: Crunch (Wrecker), Striker (Hunter), Circuit (Tech), Void (Echo/Memento - See Notes), and CX-2 aka Headshot (Crosshair).

Striker and Hunter

Circuit and Tech

Void and Echo

Crunch and Wrecker

Headshot and Crosshair

The Mirror Squad - Origin Story Concept

The Mirror Squad were the first batch of Experimental Unit Clone Commandos created on Kamino: Striker, Crunch, Circuit, Void, and Headshot. They were decommissioned due to their rebellious and unpredictable nature which made them a liability rather than an asset to the future Clone Army.

Because the Experimental Clone Program was an expensive endeavor, the Kaminoans did not decommission these clones, but rather put them in stasis for later research. They tried again another batch of experimental clones and this time only four clones survived: Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, Memento (see note) and Crosshair.

Note: Memento did not survive past his cadet years. Void and Echo's parallel are a coincidence.

When Kamino was evacuated, Hemlock scooped up the original Bad Batch squad, still in stasis within their pods. These clones were the first to be brainwashed and reprogrammed by Hemlock. Although their memories were wiped, their instincts to work as a cohesive unit remained.

Technically, the Bad Batch is a mirror image of what the original Clone Force 99 almost was, but this squad's official name is Mirror Squad.

[timetodiverge]

I'm not crying YOU'RE crying

The Bad Batch | How it started (S1E1):

How it's going (S3E4):

[crashlanding-skywalker]

[the batch get back to pabu after a mission and Omega notice that Crosshair is clearly not happy (sad)]

Omega, gives him a leaf:

Crosshair: What...?

Omega: I be-leaf in you.

Crosshair:

Omega:

Crosshair, with a hint of a smile: Wrecker told you to do that, didnt he?

Omega, nods:

Crosshair, letting out a chuckle: of course he did

[somewhere-on-kamino]

The Sad Batch + Text Posts pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | Crosshair special

[here-comes-the-moose]

How I Think Each Member of the Bad Batch Would Act if Sick/Injured

Hunter- If he’s sick, he’s basically an “if I ignore it maybe it’ll go away” kind of guy. However, I do think if he was injured he would tell someone since he wants to be responsible and lead by example. I feel like it would be hard for him as the oldest since he wants to be strong for his siblings, but ultimately wanting to set a good example wins out.

Wrecker- If he’s sick he will seek out care. Maybe he’ll be a little bit dramatic, but his brothers don’t mind since they get to care for him. I do think he would try and brush off injuries and minimize them, since he’s used to being the strongest and feels like he should be able to deal with it and take the pain. He had to be forced to get examined and take pain meds.

Tech- Would let the others know if he was sick or injured, but after dealing with it first himself. He’d be like “oh I have a fever but I took some medicine so it’s fine no need to fret” or would just appear in the cockpit wearing a wrist brace and his siblings would be like ??? but he’s all like “I fractured my radius so I am wearing this brace; I thought it was obvious from how I fell”.

Crosshair- Would try and deal with things on his own, both illnesses and injuries, and snap at his siblings when they try and help him. Similar to Hunter in thinking if he ignores it maybe it’ll go away. Omega is the only one who can convince him to get checked out, and occasionally so can Echo or Hunter. The only exception to this is if his stomach hurts; he will be complaining the whole time and everyone on the ship is going to know. His tummy hurts and he is not being brave about it.

Echo- Mostly tries to ignore his issues or just tough it out, since he figured he’s dealt with worse so he can deal with whatever this is, but will get help if it’s something that feels more serious. He will, however, accept help and comfort from Omega, no matter how minor his illness or injury is, since he knows it helps her feel useful. Plus he hates to see her worried.

Omega- Similar to Echo in trying to tough it out at first, but she does this out of not wanting to be a bother. However, when one of her brothers inevitably pick up on her not feeling good or being hurt, she will tell them what’s going on and allow them to fret over and care for her, even if she does get a little annoyed at their mother-henning.

[i-dont-know-how-this-site-works]

Echo checking his comm after a long day of rescuing clones and sticking a middle finger to the Empire:

(2) Message from: Hunter

"Hey, what's up? Everything fine with you?"

"Because we are fine if you would like to know."

Message from: Wrecker

"man, shit sucks, tech is being so extra lately, he is so annoying without u"

Message from: Tech

"You took my favourite flathead screwdriver. Please give it back at your earliest convenience."

22 unanswered calls from: <3 my best girl <3

(13) Message from: <3 my best girl <3

"Mom, they keep fighting"

"Someone stole our house, please pick us up"

"I miss you"

"Where are you?"

"Look, I got to use the drill today! :D" *pic of Omega drilling into a cave ceiling with the goofiest smile ever*

"Wrecker got stomped on by wild animals and we are trapped in a vault"

"Tech is being mean :("

"I fell down a dark hole and almost drowned, but I am fine, Tech helped me"

"I am stuck with Tech in a dark cave, help mom"

"me and Tech made up, don't worry"

"why are you not picking up"

"We don't have food and Cid doesn't want to help us :("

"I miss you Echo"

[artfulacrostic]

memes for The Bad Batch 3x02, "Paths Unknown"

*SPOILERS*

edit: almost forgot the best one 😳

[aron-mp4]

I just needed to see them all together and happy one last time

(click for quality :'))

[stersartblog]

All of them are lost.

[sanshinexx]

Fun times at the family game night 🥰

[More incorrect quotes with the gang here, now as a masterlist i just made because why not]

[phantom-of-the-501st]

So I just realised something depressing

Remember this? Right here? Wrecker and Omega being concerned for Tech's safety during this moment as they realised that they could lose their brother?

Here's the thing... they were also the only two to see this

Hunter and Echo were there, but they didn't see Tech falling.

The only two people who watched Tech's sacrifice were the two people that watched him offer up his own life earlier on in the season...

[oceansssblue]

i saw your echo work with his fallen Jedi coming to him as a force ghost and oH MY. it was so amazing!!!!! your writing never disappoints! made me FEEL HAPPY FEELINGS

now I am wondering how it would go down with tech, especially if they were in an established relationship that maybe only the batch knew about because she knows they won't snitch to the council?

sorry if you don't want to write the same thing again, please feel very free to ignore

Hi sweetheart! I was initially going to decline your request, cause I don't wanna cry anymoree and I felt it would be writing the same thing, but then my mind shot some ideas back at me and you were so sweet and kind with your comments I decided to go with it. It's a bit short but hope u like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"HOW TO GRIEVE"

TECH/F READER 📩💔(💖)

WARNINGS: Death of f reader, female reader appearing as a Force ghost, sad grieving feels explicit descriptions, almost pannick/anxiety attack, comforting conversations and cuddle piles, rest of the batch comforting too. Tried to end it in a soft positive note. Strap in!

Tech had been taught many –many– things in his life time. How to memorise scaring amounts of information, how to hack into security systems, how to fix, how to pilot... No one had ever taught him how to grieve, though; and with the Batch not being very close to any of the regs, as Crosshair insisted on calling them, your death had completely pulled him off his feet. To such lost came the added effect of not losing "just" a friend; but a partner as well. He would no longer be able to close his eyes and press your foreheads together in an attempt to center himself when everything around him became too much. He would not be able to kiss you or hold you in his arms anymore; feel that wonderful conection when the two of you made love, eyes sparkling and focused in each other with quiet reverent whispers breaking the silence of the room while your souls almost seem to talk too. He would never... He would never, ever, ever, see you again. And that...

Tech's resolve finally broke and he crashed down into the floor in a loud, heartbreaking sob. He squeezed his eyes shut. Both of his hands flew up; one to press against his heart and the other one to unconsciously scratch at his throat, almost as if he were trying to pull the knot that had quickly taken residence there out and off. He couldn't cope with it. His breaths turned into crying gasps and trembling pants. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't...

"Tech" a harsh tone quickly snapped him out of his loop of hurt and wallowing desperation, and he quickly glanced upwards, eyes begging for help, only to find...

You. Your...

"F-force ghost?" He quickly guessed out loud, his voice a shattered breath forcebly expulsed from his aching lungs.

You nodded gently. You kneeled beside him; slowly, as if he were a frightened creature that could turn to hide himself further if you spooked him suddenly.

You place your hand in his back, even if you know he wouldn't be able to feel it.

"H-how?" He gasps, eyes still teary, hands finding purchase against the floor now.

You smile in silence. Always so curious, your Tech.

"I can't answer that. I don't even know how to explain this transition. It's..." your brow furrows. "A mix between real and not, consciensce and not, I was seeing things and nothing at the same time, feelings were..."

You shake yourself with a tiny guilty smile, and Tech nods. Maybe human mind's are just incapable of reproducing and completely understanding the mistery that is the Force; they only get tiny snips of it. He feels his heart slowly returning to it's usual rythim. He moves and flops to sit on the floor, knees crossed.

He takes a deep breath. No one had taught him to grieve; but he had read about it, saved the information like every other thing he learnt by himself in case it came up being useful. A part of him always knew he would be forced to experience this at some point or another; he just wished it hadn't had to be you.

"You should'nt have tried to save me. Should have let me die" he says, voice almost a whisper, but a surprisingly firm whisper at that. "There's millions of me. Kaminoans would have no trouble creating a perfect replica. You... You're just one".

Your eyes turned sad, your almost invisible hand trying to caress his arms. He tracked the movement with an involuntary pout on his plump lips; lips you'd never be able to kiss again. Oh, how you desperately wished...

"Don't say that" you replied, voice soft and gentle. "You know I never liked hearing you say that. You're so special, Tech, such a beautiful person. I didn't fall in love with any of your brothers, any other clones. I fell in love with you, just you, because you're your own wonderful person. I love you so much, Tech. Like i never thought i would love someone else".

Your words causes Tech's emotions to pull into two different directions, making his mind feel like a mess. For one part, it hurts him so much to hear that, knowing he won't be able to continue sharing that love with you anymore; but it also soothes his pain, like a soft blanket of warmth and comfort made of your pure, selfless love for him is being gently placed upon his shoulders.

Tech gives you a sad, trembling smile and carefully extends his hands towards you. It hovers between your body shapes before he lets it fall down dejectedly, thumping strengthless against the floor.

"How am I supposed to carry on without you?" he asks, in a whisper, an almost innocent look on his face and eyes.

Tech has no answer for this, no matter all that he's learnt and investigated. He's utterly, completely lost in this.

You smile at him, softness conveined in your expression even in this ghost state.

"You have your brothers to help you. To take care of you" you tell him, gentle, patiently, almost like a mother would comfort a child. "It'll take time, but you will carry on. At one point the pain will turn more nostalgic than raw, and you'll..."

You hesitate, your own feelings not completely real in this Force ghost state –more soothed, dampened, taken care of– but still there; you take a breath –well, you make the gesture to do so– and continue.

"You won't forget me, us... But I promiss, you'll be okay."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Half an hour later finds you both laying down on Tech's bunk on the Batch's barraks. You've been whispering to each other almost nonstop for the first twenty minutes or so –remembering and laughing about happy or silly times together, confessing things you always wanted to say to the other but never felt brave enough–. The last ten have been spent on silence, though; your faces close to each other as if you could both feel each other's warmth; memorising every inch of the other's face. You're glad your Force ghost looks like a peacefull version of yourself, not the last one tainted by blood and the grieves of years of war.

The door opens and different set of steps freeze on their way to their own bunks. It's obvious; everyone's shocked.

"Hey, guys" you chuckle, pulling yourself up from your place in Tech's cot. "Yeah, I'm a Force ghost now".

No one laughs or chuckles at your obvious dead-pan. Wrecker's eyes fiñl with tears inmediately, while Echo gulps down his sorrow and Crosshair glances to the side guiltily. Hunter's eyes flicker between Tech and your bluish figure and clenches his jaw before looking down.

"It's none of your fault" you quickly correct their thoughts. Such selfless, honorable men, this ones. "Please don't ever think that. Now... i can't be here for long. I don't really know how this works, but I can feel the Force trying to pull me elsewhere. I don't know when or if I will be able to come back. Tech..." you glance at him, his expresion closed of and quiet, tears dried on his cheeks, now. Almost looking composed. "Needs your help. He's not okay, though I am perfectly aware he'll try to cover that" you smile at him, softly. "I think it would be a good idea to get him into one of your cuddle piles".

Everyone nods firmly, and almost as if you've given them an order yourself, they sprint in action, quickly throwing down all the cots on the free space on the floor and pushing them together into one big bed enough to house them all. Tech doesn't have strength to move, to react much; he's not ready to talk about this with his family, yet, but it doesn't matter. Wrecker carries him carefully and places him in the middle of the cots; the rest of them quickly taking their spot on his sides. Hunter presses closer to him while –surprisingly– Crosshair lays on Tech's other side; Echo taking his spot besides Hunter and Wrecker on the oposite side. He's oficially squished between his four brothers, his family; and Tech didn't even realized how much he needed their comfort and warmth until now.

He feels his eyelids dropping, exhaustion creeping in. He has enough strength to tilt his head up and look at your shape.

"Please, don't go" he softly asks. "At least... At least until I'm asleep".

You nod with a loving small smile.

"Of course. I'll always come and stay with you however I can, cyare".

Tech shows a tiny fond smile, moved by the affectionate use of Mando'a –he taught you himself– and nuzzles his nose closer to Hunter's neck with a hum. The sergeant hums back at him and instinctively presses closer, arms wrapping around his younger brother. Crosshair silently imitates him on Tech's other side. To be honest, he hates hugs; but he'll be damned if he didn't try his best at comforting one of the most important persons in his life. He never says so, but he loves every single one of his brothers; a special little soft spot in his heart belonging particularly to Tech.

You know all this, and you can't help but whisper a general "I love you, boys" as well. You'll miss them, too. They were great friends.

You receive a tired wave of choruses back.

"Love you, Tech" you whisper to him, you can't help it yourself. You needed him to hear you say it one more time.

Tech hums almost sleeping, now.

"Love you, ner karta (my heart)" he mumbles, muffled against Hunter's neck.

The man caresses Tech's hair gently until he falls asleep; then, Hunter carefully pulls his goggles off and leaves them in a safe spot on the floor besides them.

Hunter waits until all of his brothers are well asleep; ever the leader, ever the big brother. The protector. He'd do anything for them. Then, he stares at you with an understanding soft expresion on his face; and you shoot him back one of your own, while the bluish light of your shape extinguishes from the barraks in a quiet goodbye. Hunter sighs quietly and nuzzles back into Tech's form, relishing in his and Echo's warmth at his back.

You comfort yourself thinking they will all take care of each other; and you might be able to find them in this afterlife someday. For now, Tech will still live; and he'll be safe with his family, his aliit.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Omgggg you guysss MY FEELINGSSS FJDBFBDJXBSB! This made me get that knot in my throat, my poor baby tech, why u request me this sad stuff ahhhhhh.

Nah, im glad u did though, it was intense to write this piece but i think it came out beautifully if i may say so myself. I hope u liked it!

Okay, we have two Hunter fanfics coming up next!! We will have a little action/teasing one and another more on the fluffy first kiss romantic side. They're both pretty original request ideas so I think you'll like them.

Stay tunned (and remember i'm always up for a chat dm)!

Xx,

Sky.

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