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shootingstarpilot · 10 months ago

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okay listen. listen. i'm sorry, i had to get this out of my head, it's been haunting me and i want to get back to working on the next proper chapter-

the mimic lives au.

mimic is brought into the fold without question, of course. and needle- oh, needle's borne witness to the nightmares that force helix awake, shaking-not-screaming, and he knows enough-

so he makes mimic a voice.

it takes him just over a week to record the entire gbs dictionary. he breaks it down, keeps it alphabetical so it's easier to find the words. dictionaries of other languages are on the list. needle thinks maybe mimic can pick and choose which ones to prioritize later. they'll have time.

(they'll have time, isn't that a novel thought-)

but the dictionary is only part of it. there are plenty of manufactured voices out there already, after all.

the datapad becomes needle's newest conversational partner. he sets it up when he's on his own and lets his train of thought derail. spinning out stories both real and fantastical. drawing out threads until they reach the boiling point of absurdity and send him into a fit of giggles. he repeats the stories he'd told mimic just that afternoon, tells him about the jedi, about the temple, about making their own home. then he remembers what helix had said about mimic wanting to be a pilot, and goes and bullies comet into educating him on starfighters. he recites his lessons to the camera each evening in the moments of stolen solitude he can squirrel away before one of the others comes looking for him.

"it's like learning another language," he says, and wags a finger at the camera. "you're welcome."

needle gifts it to mimic a week after they arrive at the temple with a wireless earpiece to match. no pressure, of course, he says, grinning, just thought it could be a good resource to have, words to borrow at your fingertips, but i know i'm only tolerable in small doses, so-

he squawks when mimic's hug lifts him clear off the ground.

anyway. so. you see my vision.

helix jumps a mile when he first hears needle's laugh in mimic's mouth. stitch yells at needle for a bit about talking so much, needle, is this why your voice was so hoarse- and then restricts him to tea for four days until he's sure his throat has healed. sometimes it's too much, and mimic will stick his earpiece to the fridge and borrow words spoken right in front of him until his brain stops buzzing-

but it works. they work.

and then.

it's a few months in. they're comfortable. they're setting down roots.

then one night needle doesn't come home.

helix doesn't wait to raise the alarm. needle doesn't spend every night home, but he's good about comming when he'll be staying elsewhere. he knows helix is struggling with letting them leave his line of sight.

and now he's gone. and he didn't comm.

the first three days stretch into a week.

then a second week.

then a month.

and now, the vision that has been HAUNTING ME-

helix, clutching mimic's datapad, sitting on the edge of his bed.

the lights are low. his eyes are red.

he hits play.

"-ah, i love them," needle says, laughing. the laugh stretches into a yawn-

(that holds for one, two, three seconds, helix knows it now by heart-)

a knock at the door sounds in the video. needle hunches his shoulders, grimacing- his eyes are dancing, he's not annoyed, not really-

"be right out!" he calls, and then- helix's voice on the other side-

"get your beauty routine under control!"

needle waits until his footsteps have vanished before turning back to the camera-

(six footsteps before they fade enough to become inaudible- helix has counted them so many times-)

"i don't need one," he says, and winks at the camera- his eyes are shining, bright and happy- "he's just jealous all of this is effortless. night, mimic. talk to you in the morning."

the video ends.

helix sits in the dark.

after a moment, he taps at the datapad again.

"ah, i love them," needle says. his laugh- snorting, open, happy-

(one-two-three for the yawn-)

helix hits pause. rewinds.

"i love them," needle says.

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

#THERE ARE VAGUE PLANS FOR A HAPPY ENDING #BECAUSE I CAN WRITE SOME GOOD ANGST BUT I'LL ALWAYS DELIVER A HAPPY ENDING #but anyway this was cathartic #thank you all for listening to my ramblings #man it does feel better to get this on the page #on the post #whatever #MAYBE NOW MY BRAIN WILL LET ME FOCUS #going missing #inconclusive #heavily implied needle whump #helix needs a hug #shoulder the sky #mimic lives au

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shootingstarpilot · 11 months ago

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In Which Helix Loses His Godsdamned Temper

A gift for my dear friend @themonopolyhat, who wanted to know how the swivel chair race briefly mentioned in Chapter 11 of like lightning changing hands went down <3

Helix and sleep are passing acquaintances at best.

Not enemies, no- he's not a fool. He's a good medic. He knows sleep is important. Even for the clones, who were conditioned to function on half as much sleep as a human nat-born- toxic byproducts need to be processed. New neural pathways need to be formed. Memories need to be filed away. So of course he makes time for it. He most certainly doesn't need Needle coaxing him away from his desk or switching out his stims or shoving him down onto a cot and sitting on him until he passes out- no matter how much the younger medic might protest otherwise-

But. His point.

He makes room for it. Their moments of true downtime are few and far between, but Helix always makes sure to squeeze in a treasured nap or two when he gets the chance.

Which is why, when he's rudely awoken by shouting outside the medbay door that is not immediately followed by the reveal of some horrific injury, Helix decides he's well overdue to rain hellfire down on whatever hapless idiots decided to work out their post-campaign jitters right outside his fucking medbay.

He pulls the pillow off his head, rolls to his feet, and stalks towards the door, carefully selecting his most threatening expression and arranging it appropriately.

When the door slides open, he inhales-

And then lets the air out again in a slightly anticlimactic whoosh when he comes face to face with an empty hallway.

Feeling immensely irritated, he steps out of the doorway and glances to the left and right.

Where-?

The noise is barely a ripple at the back of his mind, at first. Almost indistinguishable from the ever-present rumbling of the engines.

Then it very quickly overtakes it.

Helix, operating solely on well-honed instinct, flattens himself against the wall just in time for a blur of motion to careen around the corner. They slow as they hit the curve, just enough for him to make out-

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Auks, on the swivel chair, gripping both edges with white-knuckled hands- Wooley, hands on the back of the chair, moving at a dead sprint-

Auks' gaze flickers up just enough to catch Helix's eyes, wild glee melting into a pants-pissing terror. They disappear around the next corner, and Helix indulges in a mental pat on the back when he hears Auks' distant shriek of-

"Go faster!"

Right.

He lets them go. He'll catch up with them later.

After a moment's consideration, he steps into the middle of the hallway, studying the water stain on the ceiling with all the appearance of sincere diligence.

The distant rumbling grows louder.

Hm. He should think about filing a work order with Maintenance.

Underneath, now, the sound of footsteps-

They don't want to let that pipe burst, after all.

"OhshitohfuckCOVER-"

He doesn't move.

A screeching noise, an even louder scream-

A tangle of limbs tumbles past his left, slamming into the corner with a force that Helix deliberately doesn't wince at.

Longshot is the first to sit up, carefully disentangling himself from the pathetic remains of the chair. He doesn't look at all frightened when he looks up at Helix.

Just resigned.

"In my defense," he says, rolling his shoulder assessingly, "I told them this location was a bad idea."

"It was," Helix agrees, poisonously sweet.

Gearshift is the next to emerge, clutching at his face. Longshot pats him on the back. "All good?"

Faintly muffled, slightly more stuffy-

"You broke my nose!"

"I broke your nose?"

"You!" Gearshift amends, pointing at Helix, the effect of his glare somewhat lessened by the blood pouring between his fingers. "What were you thinking?"

"Standing in the hallway?"

"Y-"

Gearshift falters.

Helix smiles at him.

"Do you know how big this ship is, Gearshift?" he says mildly.

"Pretty big, sir," Gearshift mutters.

"Do you know how often I have time to nap?"

"Probably not very often, sir."

"Do you know how loud you idiots were?"

"No, sir."

"This was the third round, though," Longshot adds blithely. "Can't have been too bad if you slept through the other two-"

"Shut your mouth," Helix says pleasantly. "Where are the others?"

Longshot points.

"Right," Helix says, already running through his death-be-upon-you-if-you-try-this-banthashit-again speech in the back of his mind. He jabs a finger at Gearshift. "Stay here. I want to take a look at your nose when I get- stop tilting your head back, do you want to asphyxiate on your own blood? I'll be right back."

He stalks off without waiting for an answer.

The others aren't far off. Two hallways down and Helix can already make out the cheerful chatter, rising alongside his blood pressure.

"-and Auks clocked in at three minutes on the dot, fastest lap yet," Waxer says cheerfully. Helix picks up his pace. "Right, Trapper, you're up- who's your partner?"

Trapper is, however, doomed to a life of loneliness, because it's at that precise moment that Helix rounds the corner and launches into a lecture that will be whispered about among the shinies for years to come.

"-swivel chairs! Fucking swivel chairs, I thought you were all supposed to be soldiers, not tubies running along the godsdamned catwalks-"

Trapper shrinks backwards, ducks his head, and his patient resignation drives Helix's ire to new heights-

"-had the entire ship to be suicidal in, but no, you had to plot out your fucking racecourse directly outside my fucking medbay when I was getting the first sleep I'd had in three days-"

Waxer scuffs his foot against the floor, looking like he's considering taking a step backward, and then thinks better of it-

"-slammed his head into the wall and broke his fucking nose, if he'd hit half an inch higher his brains would've spilled out like soup because you couldn't even think to use your fucking helmets-"

Boil seizes the opportunity when Helix is forced to stop for breath.

"We did have supervision," he points out. "Medical. So, you know- we got cleared-"

"Who," Helix grits out, "the fuck-"

The crowd pulls back like the tide, and Helix stares.

Stitch stares up at him from where he's perched on the edge of yet another swivel chair, white-faced.

Needle, holding onto the back, offers him a wave.

"Integrated supervision," he says cheerfully. "New management principle I heard about, thought we could give it a try-"

A muscle in Helix's jaw jumps.

"You two," he grits out, "with me. And the rest of you-" he snaps, at the rustle of a collective relieved sigh- "pull this banthashit again, and I'll deliver you to Grievous hog-tied on a platter- now, am I understood?"

At the affirmative murmurs, he turns on his heel and strides off, followed hurriedly by his two renegade medics.

The strained silence is broken only by two sets of footsteps for some time.

"Stitch," Helix says, after a moment, "get off the chair."

A pause. Then three sets of footsteps.

Then, so quiet Helix has to strain to hear it-

"Is Gearshift okay?"

Helix closes his eyes and forces a slow exhale out through his nose.

(His head is pounding.)

"Yeah," he says, making a conscious effort to gentle his voice. "Just a broken nose. No other trauma that I could tell. You deal with that when we get back, okay? Run him through the gauntlet. Use your best judgement."

"Okay, Helix."

The silence gains a certain obnoxious quality to it.

"And you," Helix says, considering-

Then it hits him.

"You can put that nutritional learning module to use," he decides. "Kitchens. Run through the new requisition forms with Terror. Help him rebuild a sustainable menu; the routine shipments got changed last week."

Needle does not appear half as peeved as Helix would like him to.

He catches Helix's glare and grins, irrepressibly sunny. "Will do, boss. Terror and I are friends, I like his company."

"Terror doesn't do friends."

"Mm, fair. We're nemeses, then. I think that's the closest thing he has."

Helix's glower darkens.

The rest of the walk back is silent.

They split when they reach the medbay. Stitch heads for Gearshift immediately- and Longshot, who, Helix notes with mild surprise, had stayed with him. Needle peels off for the kitchens, humming under his breath with a nonchalance that makes Helix want to deck him.

And Helix-

Helix heads for his office.

All inclination towards sleep has vanished. He grits his teeth, settles into his chair, rubs at his forehead-

He's sure there's some flimsiwork he can get ahead on.

Later:

After he realizes exactly why Stitch is skittering away from him at every turn-

After he sits him down and patiently explains that the absolute worst punishment he will ever receive- the punishment for the Fuck-Up Of All Fuck-Ups, the punishment if he is found to be unfit for medical work- will be being reassigned to a different unit-

After he sees their youngest primary off to bed, guilt still pulling his shoulders low and dragging at his steps-

Needle comes back.

The first Helix knows of this is when a knock at his office door rouses him from staring at the same page on his datapad that he has been for the past forty minutes.

"Come in," he mutters, and Needle pokes his head through the door.

"Hey, boss," he says, and steps in fully, carefully shutting the door behind him. "New menu's been filed. Double- and triple-checked."

"Mhm."

Needle settles into the chair and sets a cup Helix hadn't noticed him carrying onto his desk.

"Tea," he says quietly, in answer to Helix's questioning look. "Thought you might need it."

Helix grumbles something incoherent, but picks up the drink anyway.

The warmth seeps all the way up his arms, into his shoulders, and he relaxes quite against his will.

They sit in silence for a long moment.

"Things were getting tense in the training rooms," Needle says at last. "They were at each other's throats. Kamei had already dislocated Trigger's shoulder, and he didn't even seem sorry- you know how those two are."

Helix blinks. He does- and- that's right, they hadn't been there, had they?

"This was the first thing I could come up with. I should've thought of the helmets, you were right about that- I'm sorry I didn't. I just wanted to get them moving."

"And of course this was the first thing you thought of," Helix mutters. He sees Needle's expression twist briefly, and guiltily musters up a quirk of his lips. "Sounds like you."

Needle returns the smile, and then his gaze drops to his knees.

"I didn't know you were sleeping, either," he says eventually. "You- you don't usually. I should've checked, I know, I just figured- keeping the medbay on the route would make for easier access if someone did get injured."

Helix takes a sip of the tea.

It's not caf.

But it's-

Good.

"Sorry about that," Needle finishes lamely. His fingers twitch and flicker and jump before he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his scrubs.

Helix takes another sip- longer than he'd meant to, this time, and when he looks down he realizes he's nearly drained the cup.

His headache is easing.

"Longshot said that was the third round," he says at last. "How'd you two do on the others?"

Needle stares at him, uncomprehending, for one long moment-

Then a smile like the sun splits his face.

"Oh, knocked them out of orbit, boss."

"Good," Helix mutters. He stands, places the empty mug on the table, and stretches until he feels his back crack. "Right. I'm going to get some sleep, then. You got the shift?"

"Course I do," Needle says easily, and Helix squeezes his shoulder on his way out.

Stitch is sitting up when he emerges, ruffled hair and sleep-fogged eyes sending a pang through Helix's chest.

"Hey, kiddo," he says quietly. "Mind if I join you?"

Stitch squints at him. "Helix?" he says at last. "Needle said you needed to lie down."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Helix mutters, glancing back at the office door. He doesn't even bother to try mustering a glare.

"Uh-huh," Stitch hums, already slipping back into sleep. He curls onto his side and pats the empty space next to him. "Come on."

Helix kicks off his boots and obligingly settles under the blanket, and Stitch shuffles a bit closer and wraps an arm around his chest.

"Needle told me you two won," Helix murmurs.

"Yeah," Stitch says sleepily. A slow smile blooms across his face. "He can go pretty fast."

"Well," Helix sighs. "I guess that's okay, then."

As it turns out, sleep can come easily after all.

#shoulder the sky #this was meant to be a little drabble but now i'm scared to check the word count #cuddle time with the medics #because i love them #and they deserve it #needle has the highest emotional iq out of all of them and you can't change my mind

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