#summer of bad batch 2024

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

All Together, Always

Summer of Bad Batch | Week 4 | Prompt: Cadets

Rating: G

"Do you think anyone will sit with us this time?" CT-9903 whispered as he and his squad approached the mess hall.

"Are you kidding?" CT-9904 scoffed - one would never have thought it possible for a child as young as he to have already developed so much cynicism. "We'll be lucky if no one tries to break Two's glasses again."

CT-9903 hung his head in disappointment. "Aw, I thought... I thought being old enough to go to the cafeteria would mean making more friends."

"There's very little evidence that will ever be the case," CT-9902 piped up. "Extrapolating the pattern noted since our entire cohort has started going to the mess hall for meals suggests we will likely never be warmly welcomed by the other cadets."

"Uh... What's expalotate mean?" CT-9903 asked in confusion.

"Extrapolate. To extend a conclusion drawn from..."

"Who cares," CT-9904 interrupted, "you know he likes using big words. And there's the point. We're too different. We're defectives. They'll never accept us."

"Doesn't matter. We have each other." CT-9901 spoke up now, and he was so confident the others took heart. "Oh-Three, you're in front today. Oh-Two and Oh-Four, take middle. I'll bring up the rear."

They quickly got into formation and continued walking forward toward the mess hall doors, though CT-9903 stopped and looked back at his brothers with some trepidation before stepping through the threshold.

"All together?" he asked.

"Always," they replied.

@summer-of-bad-batch

[fanfoolishness]

morning caf

For the @summer-of-bad-batch week 3 prompt, "Forget I asked." It's an early morning on Pabu, and Crosshair hasn't slept well. Neither has Wrecker. When Crosshair goes to check on him, he doesn't expect the question Wrecker asks:

"What was it like?  When your chip… when it activated?”

(Crosshair and Wrecker finally talk about their chips. Angst, family feels, ~2400 words.)

---

Crosshair yawned, taking a long drink of caf as he watched the sun begin to edge over the horizon.  He stood out on the patio, letting the morning wash over him.  He’d slept poorly last night, tossing and turning despite Batcher’s solid weight against him on the bed.  He wasn’t sure why.  Nothing had happened out of the ordinary yesterday --

Except the transmission from Echo.  His mouth quirked.

Maybe he’d go meditate.  It had been hard starting up again after the destruction of Tantiss -- after his hand -- but he could tell it was helping, bit by bit.  It was harder to see the progress now, no tremor fading to help delineate his improvement, but he could feel it in the fact that the sleepless nights were fewer than they used to be, in the way that phantom pain from his hand didn’t feel as sharp as it used to, in the way his chest felt lighter than it had in a long time.

But today he felt disquieted.

There was a noise behind him in the kitchen, a rummaging he could hear through the open window.  He turned around, surprised to see Wrecker pouring himself some caf.  Wrecker never got up this early in the morning except for missions -- well, they weren’t missions now so much as they were jobs or help for other islanders.  His curiosity piqued, Crosshair went back inside.

“You’re up early,” said Crosshair, the door closing behind him.  He took another drink of his own caf, watching as Wrecker loaded up his with cream and sugar.  “Got somewhere to be?”  He frowned, realizing how exhausted Wrecker looked, purplish shadows under his eyes, his face drawn.

“No, nowhere to be,” Wrecker said.  He shrugged.  “Just… couldn’t sleep.”  His hand, hovering over his mug in the midst of adding sugar, curled reflexively into a fist.  

“You don’t look so good,” Crosshair said, finishing his caf and reaching out with his left hand for the pot.  He was getting better at using his left hand, though a lifetime of memory meant he still got it wrong sometimes.  He used his stump to brace against his mug, holding it steady as he poured in more caf.  

Wrecker smiled wanly.  He looked like he was holding back tears.

Kriff.  Crosshair glanced around, but it was just the two of them -- no Hunter, no Omega, not even Batcher.  This was on him, no one else.  

“What’s wrong, Wrecker?” he asked slowly.

“Just… Echo’s update,” said Wrecker.  He stirred his cup of caf, and took a drink, grimacing.  Still probably wasn’t sweet enough for him.  “Sad stuff.”

“Yeah.”

They were both quiet for a moment.  That was one update from Echo Crosshair was glad Omega had missed, off playing with Lyana.  

“We had word of a clone trooper held captive in a transfer facility.  He was originally slated for Tantiss but didn’t make the last transport.  He’s been alone for months.  We broke in, but --- solitary must have got to him.”

“What happened?” Hunter had asked, but Crosshair had already guessed.  

“He’d killed himself.  Left a note, too, asking his Jedi for forgiveness.  Master Plo Koon.  I guess he never got over following the Order.”

They’d bowed their heads, a moment of silence for another fallen brother, and with shame Crosshair remembered a boy in Jedi robes, his figure brown against the snow.

“Echo’s tough,” said Crosshair carefully.  “But that’d get to anyone.”

Wrecker tried to smile at him, but it was like his mouth wasn’t working right.  His expression just came off worried.  Guilty.

“Cross,” he said, looking away and busying himself with his caf.  He picked it up, took a gulp, choked when it was still hot. 

“Wrecker.”  He waited, knowing Wrecker was working himself up to ask something.

He still couldn’t look Crosshair in the eyes, and when he spoke, his words were halting.  “What was it like?  When your chip… when it activated?”

Crosshair took a step back, his heart rate jumping, his breath catching in his throat.  He hadn’t been expecting that.  He crossed his arms over his chest, looking away.  “It doesn’t matter.  It was a long time ago.”  His voice came out sharper than he meant it.

Wrecker paused, swallowing, then waved a hand.  “Never mind.  Forget I asked.”  Crosshair risked a glance back at him, at the dejected set of his broad shoulders, at the guilty look in his eyes.  Why was it bothering him so much?  What did Wrecker have to feel guilty about?

Crosshair reached for his caf and took a drink, hoping it would steady him.  Instead he remembered he’d forgotten to add cream and sugar, and he wrinkled his nose at its bitter acidity.  An awkward silence filled the kitchen as Wrecker wordlessly padded back toward the hallway and the bedroom.

“Wrecker, wait.”  Wrecker paused, looking back at him, and Crosshair forced himself to continue.  “Come on.  Let’s go sit outside.”

“I’m no good at meditating, if that’s what you mean.  Omega tried showing me once and I fell asleep just watching her.  It’s so boring,” Wrecker muttered.

“No, you don’t have to meditate,” he said, smiling faintly.  “Let’s just… we can talk.”

A few moments later Wrecker had found a comfortable seat on the outdoor sofa beneath the canopy.  Crosshair sat at the other end, still nursing his caf, now with the requisite cream and sugar added.  The sunrise was well underway now, golds and amber-reds spilling across the sea.  

Crosshair stared out at the water.  If they were doing this, he didn’t think he’d be able to look at his brother.  “Why do you want to know about the chip?”  The last word was bitter in his mouth.  If it hadn’t been for that… so many terrible things wouldn’t have happened.  If he’d just been defective enough, he’d have been safe.  They’d never have left him.  He had gone round and round on it, during empty nights in their old quarters on Kamino, empty nights in his bunk on Coruscant, empty nights in his cell on Tantiss. 

He didn’t want to think about it again, but Wrecker was asking.  And for some reason it seemed like he needed to know.

Crosshair sighed.  If it would help Wrecker…

“Had nightmares,” Wrecker said softly.  “About Bracca.  Couldn’t sleep.”

Crosshair winced.  He’d nearly killed his brothers there; they’d nearly killed him.  He rubbed his right temple reflexively, his stump grazing over the pitted flesh and tight scarring that still remained.  “I don’t like thinking about Bracca.”

“Yeah, but Crosshair…”  He took a deep, shuddering breath.  “Mine activated, too.”

Crosshair choked down a gulp of caf, horror filling him.  He risked a look at his brother.  Wrecker  had tears in his eyes.  

“What?” he said sharply.  “On Bracca?”

“Yeah,” Wrecker said, staring down at his large, calloused hands.  “That’s why we went there.  Rex told us about them, and there was an old medbay in that cruiser.  That’s how we got ours out.  But before we did -- it was too late for mine.”  He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders rising and falling too quickly.

Crosshair reached out cautiously, resting his left hand on Wrecker’s shoulder.  He seemed to settle, his breaths getting slower, easier, though he kept his face hidden.  

“I didn’t know,” Crosshair breathed.  “I thought it was only me.  That I was the only one who wasn’t strong enough.”  He watched a long stream of seabirds fly, one by one, in a neat orderly line over the spreading waves.  Their dark silhouettes blurred and slid until he blinked away the water in his eyes.

“Nothing to do with being strong,” Wrecker said, voice muffled.  “I couldn’t stop it.  It was bigger than me.  Like it shoved out everything that was me, and made me different.  Made me try to hurt them.”

“It was… softer, at first.  For me.”  He let go of Wrecker’s shoulder, folding his arms over his chest, curling inward slightly.  “Like a detuned comm.  Made me go after that kid on Kaller.  It told me to finish the mission.  To be a good soldier.  And I wanted to, more than anything.  But -- I -- I wanted to follow Hunter, too.  I didn’t know what was happening.”  

“Never could figure it,” Wrecker said.  “Why you didn’t try to kill us right away.  When -- mine -- I came out swinging.  Tried to kill all of ‘em.  Even -- even Omega --”  He couldn’t speak, and for a moment Crosshair’s mind threw out visions of Wrecker, huge fists swinging, looming overhead, a cold, sick determination on his face.  It felt wrong even thinking about his brother like that.  

“But you didn’t,” said Crosshair.  He didn’t say, You don’t want to know what I’ve done.  He thought back to memories he’d kept hidden, shame he couldn’t bear to revisit.  But here in the morning light, with birds singing in the flowers and the waves down below, those things seemed far away.  Like maybe they’d finally lost some of their power.  

He thought about what Wrecker had said.  “I don’t know why it was different for me,” said Crosshair.  “But when they took me, Nala Se was there.  She did -- something.  Some kind of procedure.  An experiment.”  He closed his eyes, remembering the headaches crawling through his skull, the pressing insistence of the Order growing louder and louder, swallowing all sense of loyalty to his brothers.  “Made it stronger.  That’s when -- I started trying to fight you.”

“We shoulda never let them take you,” Wrecker said gruffly.  “We shoulda known it wasn’t you.”

“None of us knew,” Crosshair said.  “And I couldn’t tell you.  You did what you had to, for Omega.”

They were quiet for a moment.  A little saltbrush sparrow perched on their fence, singing its bright song, its plumage of bronze and cream and umber glowing in the golden hour light.  Crosshair tilted his head as he watched it, some of the sick feeling in his gut fading as he did so.

“Cross,” said Wrecker.  “I know it doesn’t really matter now.  But when did…”

Crosshair sighed.  Remembered Hunter’s gritted teeth, his own defensiveness, the snarled Does it matter?

It mattered.  But he couldn’t see that, back then.  He’d been too afraid of telling them the truth, too hurt that his brothers hadn’t tried to come back for him, too angry at them, himself, what he’d done, the chip, the Empire, all of it.

Was he still angry now?  After everything?

He let out a long breath.  “After Bracca,” said Crosshair.  He tapped the scar at his temple, giving Wrecker a rueful smile.  “Got damaged by that engine blast.  That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Guilty,” said Wrecker sheepishly.  “But it was gonna fry us!”

“Oh, I know,” said Crosshair, chuckling slightly.  “Figured as much.  Tech could’ve rigged up something decent, but I knew it was you.  It was too good.”

“Stop it, you’re makin’ me blush.  Uh -- sorry about your head, though.”

Crosshair shrugged.  “It did something to the chip.  I guess it was breaking down.  Frying my brain with it.”  It was all a haze, but afterwards, he’d put together pieces; he’d been having seizures on the way back from Bracca, his chip misfiring drastically.  “I told Nala Se to take it out.  That I would be loyal without it.”  His face twisted as if he’d bitten down on something bitter.  I made so many mistakes.

“Nala Se listened to you?” Wrecker said, clearly impressed.

“I think she only did it because I was a ninety-nine,” Crosshair said.  “You know how she treated us, her little pet project.  I’d heard she decommissioned regs for less.  Guess we’ll never know now.”  

He hadn’t been sure what to think when he’d heard from Echo and Omega that Hemlock’s research had been destroyed, and presumably Nala Se with it.  The most he’d settled on was that after everything, she’d stood up to the Empire when it counted.

Like he had, he supposed.

Wrecker scooted closer to him, raising one arm and settling it over his shoulders.  Crosshair leaned back, resting his head on Wrecker’s arm.

“Thanks,” Wrecker said, turning to him with a shy smile.  “The others -- they don’t know what it was like.  Guess hearing about that trooper messed me up a little.  Thinking about what could've happened.”

“I… I didn’t sleep so well either.”

“Thought so.”  Wrecker yawned, covering his mouth with his free hand.  “Maybe I should try to get back to sleep.”

Crosshair glanced at him.  “Oh yeah?  I’ve got an idea.”

Crosshair’s idea worked perfectly.  He hadn’t been meditating on the patio floor for five minutes when he heard Wrecker’s snores starting up on the sofa behind him.

He looked back over his shoulder.  Wrecker had already stretched out on the sofa, his large feet dangling over the side, a peaceful, calm look on his face.  

Fair enough.  Meditation wasn’t for everyone, he guessed.

He adjusted his position.  Breathed in.  Breathed out.  He’d been so skeptical when Omega had first shown him… and so impressed when she’d insisted he try anyway.  He smiled, thinking of the way she’d taken his hand so carefully.  She’d been determined to help him. 

He’d never understand why she loved him, but he’d never doubt it, either.

He kept breathing in.  Breathing out.

The sun had begun to swing higher, the golden hour light shifting into the harsher light of mid-morning before he unfolded his long legs and got to his feet.  Wrecker was still fast asleep, gently snoring, the sound mingling with the chattering call of the sparrows in the flowers.  

Crosshair walked over to the wall of the home, where they had a small patio shade.  They’d lowered it to enjoy the stars, last time they’d all sat out here together.  He raised the shade to its full extent until it left Wrecker completely shaded, protected from the sun.  The light and heat weren’t too fierce yet, but as Crosshair now knew from experience, sunburn on a shaved head was awful.

He gathered up their forgotten mugs of caf and headed inside, taking care to be quiet.  Wrecker could use the sleep.

Hunter was sitting at the kitchen table, having breakfast with Omega.  They both looked up at him as he came inside, Omega beaming, Hunter giving him a small, easy smile.

“Morning!” Omega said brightly.  “How are you today, Crosshair?”

He considered.  Hunter gave him a curious look, as if sensing something had changed.  

Maybe something had.

Crosshair smiled back, reaching into his pocket for a toothpick.  He settled it between his lips.  “I’m all right,” he said, and he was surprised to realize that he meant it.

[gun-roswell]

Chapters: 3/14 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & Other Star Wars Characters (Star Wars) Characters: CT-9904 | Crosshair, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-9901 | Hunter, CT-9902 | Tech, CT-9903 | Wrecker, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Batcher the Lurca Hound (Star Wars), Pabu Island Residents (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Clone Trooper Characters (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Howzer (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Summer of Bad Batch 2024, summerofbadbatch2024, Fan Events and Prompts, Pabu Island (Star Wars), family and friends, Fun under the Sun, Snippets and Scenes, Ficlets, family time and bonding, Fun and Fluff, Humour, Light Angst, Fights and Squabbles, Family Dynamics Series: Part 1 of A Summer of Bad Batch 2024

Summary: One story, many parts: Each chapter containing individual ficlets in the life and times of the Bad Batch and their friends and one warm summer spent on the peaceful island of Pabu.

Tales as per inspired by the corresponding weekly prompts (see below).

Part of Summer of Bad Batch 2024 collection and series

@summer-of-bad-batch​

[summer-of-bad-batch]

The Summer of Bad Batch 2024: Post Credits Ao3 Collection

The 2024 prompt challenge might be over, but the prompts are still inspiring creativity! That's what this collection is for...collecting the fills that come after 🥰

This collection will remain open forever, and if you fill any of the Summer of Bad Batch 2024 prompts, I hope that you will add them to this collection so that others can enjoy your fills for years to come!

**below is a "how-to" guide for adding to the collection!**

STEP ONE: Post a New Work OR Edit an existing work.

STEP TWO: Under the Associations category, you’ll see “Post to Collections / Challenges”

STEP THREE: Type summerofbadbatch2024postcredits (no spaces)

STEP FOUR: This is where it gets tricky...the collection may or may not auto populate. If it doesn't, that's okay. Just leave summerofbadbatch2024postcredits in there as is, and save the post (you can even save it as a draft and see if it worked!) It should add it to the collection even if it didn't auto populate 🤓

[archivistofnerddom]

Okay, so Pommel Horse Steve is Tech. That Turkish shooting silver medalist is Crosshair.

Who from the 2024 Summer Olympics would be the rest of the Batch? (I nominate Ilona Maher as Wrecker — absolute sweetheart who can and will truck people to achieve a goal.)

THIS CAME ACROSS MY FEED AND I'M LIKE OHMYGOD YALL!!! ITS TECH!! DUDE'S EVEN A *UCKING ELECTRICAL ENGINEERING MAJOR!!

[foxwithadarkside]

-Wrecker, I know how to swim! -But you don't have a hand, you need to practice!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Week 8 / Main Prompt: Swimming Lessons Everybody gets the meme, right? :3 (I know SOBB doesn't do reblogs anymore, so I tagged you. I think you're gonna like it. @kybercrystals94)

[gloomwitchwrites]

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[kybercrystals94]

Eyes Wide Open

Read on Ao3 here!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 2 | Prompt: Comfort Zone

Rated: G | Words: 2109

Summary:

“Did you know,” Crosshair says, conversationally, “that Hunter sleeps with his eyes open?”

A prank does not go as planned.

“Did you know,” Crosshair says, conversationally, “that Hunter sleeps with his eyes open?”

Echo huffs, “That’s impossible.”

“It’s part of his enhancement,” Crosshair says.

The sniper is lounging against the wall with the port Echo is scomped into, idly gnawing on a toothpick with his helmet tucked under his arm, rifle hanging uselessly in his other hand. Echo casts him a vexed glance. “Shouldn’t you be covering my six?

“I am.”

“With your helmet on? And your weapon ready?” 

“It’s an abandoned outpost,” Crosshair scoffs. “There’s nothing here.” 

“Well, then, can you at least stop distracting me? I’m trying to concentrate.” 

Crosshair snorts. “I’m giving you vital information about our squad’s dynamics.” 

“Sure you are,” Echo grumbles. 

“If you don’t believe me, ask Tech. He’ll tell you.” 

“Or maybe I’ll ask Wrecker.” 

“Sure.” 

Echo twists to look up at Crosshair. “You’re being serious? Hunter sleeps with his eyes open?” 

“It’s unsettling, but it’s true,” Crosshair says, shrugging. “But whatever you do, don’t tell Hunter you know. He’s very self conscious about it.” 

Echo narrows his eyes, watching for any twitch of a tell in Crosshair’s features. Crosshair stares back, unflinching, which means nothing. Of the Batch, he seems to be the most apt at lying. Turning back to his task, Echo says, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“Fine by me,” Crosshair says with a shrug. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

“Echo told me something interesting,” Crosshair says, trailing after Hunter as they leave their meeting with command. 

Hunter isn’t paying attention, reading over their new mission parameters before Tech gets ahold of them. “Yeah?” he asks, absently. 

“He said he sleeps with his eyes open.” 

“Uh, huh.” 

“That’s it? Did you even hear what I said?” 

The ire in Crosshair’s tone makes Hunter look back at him. “What?”

Crosshair sighs. “I said, Echo told me something interesting.”

Hunter quirks an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“He said that he sleeps with his eyes open.” 

Hunter laughs. “What does that mean?” 

“It means he literally sleeps with his eyes open. Something to do with his cybernetics.” 

“He’s pulling your leg, Cross.” 

“I’ve seen it.” 

Now Hunter stops, turning to look at Crosshair dubiously. “You’ve seen Echo sleep with his eyes open.” 

“Several times.”  

Hunter considers this a moment, then regards Crosshair with a disconcerted expression. “You know, it’s kinda creepy that you watch Echo while he sleeps.” 

“I don’t watch him sleep,” Crosshair sputters. 

“That’s kind of what you just said.” 

Crosshair rolls his eyes and walks away, missing Hunter’s grin of triumph. It isn’t hard to annoy the sniper…but embarrassing him was a special kind of achievement. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Echo almost asks Tech about Hunter, then he almost asks Wrecker. The issue is that if he caves to the surmounting curiosity, and it turns out this is some sort of prank…everyone will know he fell for it and he’ll look like a gullible dolt. Then again, Crosshair had seemed genuine. It would be a weird thing to lie about. What would he gain from it? (Besides the obvious prize of making Echo appear idiotic.) In the end, Echo decides that he’ll just have to verify the intel for himself, do some recon. How hard can it be to catch Hunter asleep and just…investigate.

Apparently, absolutely kriffing impossible. 

For whatever reason (further piquing Echo’s interest), Hunter always sleeps with his back to the room. To investigate would mean to lean precariously over the hyper sensitive clone. Like that’s gonna happen with Echo’s prosthetics and cybernetics whirring and screaming his location at all times. 

A standard week later, Echo still doesn’t know if Hunter sleeps with his eyes open, but he is almost positive the man has eyes in the back of his head. 

A rare stint on Kamino finds Echo sitting at the table, facing Hunter’s bunk, waiting and hoping that the clone tucked inside turns over in his sleep and finally puts this rumor to rest…so to speak. 

Abruptly, Hunter rolls over and pins Echo with a bleary glare. “What are you doing?” he growls, voice rough with sleep. 

Echo stammers, holding up a dark data pad as frail evidence. “Reading?” An internal smack to the forehead as he wonders why he posed his answer as a question.  

“You’ve been watching me sleep. Why?” 

“I’m not,” Echo protests. 

“You are,” Hunter insists. 

Echo squirms under the scrutiny, face aflame with embarrassment. “Just something Crosshair said…I was trying to figure out if it was true.” 

Hunter rolls his eyes. “Did he tell you I sleep with my eyes open?” 

Echo gapes. This can go one of two very different ways. Either Hunter admits that it’s true, or he tells Echo that he’s an idiot for believing a syllable out of the sniper’s mouth. Echo is not mentally prepared for either scenario. 

“Well, it’s not true,” Hunter deadpans. “Although, Cross told me that you told him that you sleep with your eyes open because of something to do with your cybernetics.”

Echo frowns. “Did you believe him?”

Hunter grins, flopping over onto his back and covering his eyes with the crook of one arm. “No, because I’m not an idiot.” 

“He said it had to do with your enhancement,” Echo defends himself, but that just makes Hunter laugh.  

“And you just believed him?” Hunter asks, still chuckling. 

Echo doesn’t want to dignify the obviously rhetorical question with a response, so he awakens his data pad with an irritable tap, and begins to sort through meaningless tabs hoping that Hunter will just drop it, and that he won’t tell Crosshair about any of it. 

“Ah, don’t feel bad, Echo,” Hunter says, still hiding half his face under his arm. “Cross messing with you means he likes you. You’re officially part of the squad. Getting harrassed by Crosshair is practically a right of passage.”

“Does it ever stop?” Echo mutters. 

Of course Hunter hears him. “No, but you get used to it.” 

Echo swears under his breath. “Goody.” 

A few minutes pass and Echo thinks that Hunter has fallen back asleep; however, the sergeant lifts his arm. “I have an idea to get him back…if you’re interested.”

Oh, Echo is very interested.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

“You were right about Echo,” Hunter says, walking alongside Crosshair. 

Crosshair is pushing a cart of supplies from the armory. This is usually a task completed by Wrecker and Crosshair; however, Hunter had volunteered to go when Wrecker was occupied helping Tech with inventory counts…a task Hunter usually did with Tech. 

“What are you talking about?” Crosshair asks. 

Hunter glances around and lowers his voice. “About him sleeping with his eyes open.” 

Crosshair carefully keeps his expression from twitching into a look of surprise. “Of course I was right. Why would I lie about something like that?” 

“To make me a kriffing creeper like you,” Hunter says, bumping his shoulder into Crosshair. 

Crosshair rolls his eyes, remembering how this conversation went a few weeks ago. “I don’t watch him sleep!” 

“Fine, you don’t…but you were right! I couldn’t believe it. I asked Tech about it, and he said it is one of the side effects of his internal cybernetics. Sometimes Echo forgets to close his eyes if he falls asleep too fast.” 

That actually kind of made sense. Crosshair smirks. “You’re telling me this like I didn’t already know.” 

“I’m just saying, I’m sorry for doubting you,” Hunter says humbly. “It’s actually a good thing you told me. When I talked to Tech, he said that it is important that we close Echo’s eyes for him if he falls asleep with them open. They dry out and are painful once he wakes up.” 

Crosshair hums. He isn’t sure what he thinks of that. Maybe Echo should learn to fall asleep slower if drying his eyes out is that huge of a problem. 

Hunter claps Crosshair’s shoulder soundly. “Thank you for looking out for our squadmate. I know it’s been an adjustment incorporating Echo into the squad, but when we all put in the effort, it will be an even more seamless transition.” 

“Sure,” Crosshair mutters, feeling uncomfortable under the glowing praise. Hunter isn’t usually so flowery, and Echo’s adapting to the dynamics of Clone Force 99 hasn’t been that difficult. A few missteps here and there, but overall, the reg seemed able to keep up. 

Crosshair shrugs off the awkwardness of the situation and hopes he is never the one who sees that Echo has fallen asleep with his eyes open.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

He isn’t so lucky. 

A standard week later, a mission forces them to travel twelve hours in hyperspace. Once the mission parameters have been established, the Batch disperse to do their own tasks. Echo announces that he is exhausted and is going to take a nap. He tells his new brothers that he does not want to be disturbed unless it is a matter of life or death. Then, he stretches out on the lower bunk, turns his back to the room, and is softly snoring a few minutes later. 

Crosshair is doing what he usually does on a long space journey: taking apart his entire rifle and putting it back together after polishing each individual piece. He is nearly done putting the rifle back together when Echo rolls over with a loud sigh. Crosshair glances up and freezes mid attaching one rifle piece to another. 

Echo is staring at him, unblinking. Well. Not at him, more like, through him. It’s terrifying. 

Crosshair glances at the cockpit where Tech, Hunter and Wrecker are. If he could get one of them to come back here, maybe they’d see Echo’s predicament and handle it themselves, Crosshair could claim not to have noticed. 

Another option is to wake Echo up. Crosshair isn’t scared of Echo, not even intimidated; however, putting an ARC on the warpath for disturbing his sleep seems like an unwise decision if Crosshair doesn’t want to face retaliation. 

The third option, the option Crosshair is loath to even consider, is to get up and close Echo’s eyes himself. Knowing there is no one around to hear him, Crosshair breathes out a whine, dropping his head back against the wall and sagging his shoulders. He really, really does not want to do this. 

Echo continues to stare. 

Unseeing. Unblinking. 

Just staring, staring right through Crosshair. 

With another hissed sound of disdain, Crosshair puts aside his rifle pieces and stands up. How does one even close someone’s eyes? You just prise their eyelids down? Won’t that wake them up? These questions plague Crosshair’s mind as he creeps forward, trying not to make eye contact with the sleeping ARC. It’s just so weird…

He stands in front of the bunk, sighs again, and kneels down, crouched on his heels. He reaches up slowly, hating every painful second of this. 

A hand catches his wrist and a voice says, low and cryptic, “Gotcha.” 

Crosshair does not scream. He will die on that hill. But the way his heart leaps into his throat and lodges there makes him fall backwards, landing hard on his tailbone. 

Echo is laughing hysterically, dropping Crosshair’s wrist as he sits up. A combination of the laughter and whatever thing made the unholy, panicked squawk draw the attention of the three persons in the cockpit. 

Hunter is grinning wide enough that Crosshair knows for an absolute fact that the idiot was in on the whole thing. 

“What were you doing, Cross?” Echo asks between gasps of laughter. 

Crosshair pushes himself to his feet and stands stiffly, arms crossed, wishing he had a toothpick to break between his teeth. “You know exactly what I was doing. It was a set up.” 

“What happened?” Wrecker asks, looking wounded at being left out of whatever Echo and Hunter found hilarious. 

“Echo fell asleep with his eyes open,” Hunter says, chuckling. 

Tech adjusts his goggles. “That is a condition known as nocturnal lagophthalmos. I was not aware Echo had it. Fascinating.” 

“He doesn’t have it,” Crosshair grouses. “Hunter lied to me.” 

Hunter looks shocked. “You’re the one who told me Echo had that.” 

“And you’re the one who told me that Hunter did,” Echo puts in, wiping tears from his eyes. 

Wrecker frowns. “Wait? So Hunter sleeps with his eyes open too?” 

“Neither of them do,” Crosshair growls. 

“Crosshair tried to trick Echo and I, so we got him back,” Hunter says, looking far too proud of himself. 

“So it was you that screamed like a prepubescent cadet?” Tech asks Crosshair with a grin. 

“I did not scream,” Crosshair says firmly. 

“Well, it wasn’t me,” Echo says. 

Wrecker is laughing now. “Wait, wait, tell me the whole story.”

Echo happily starts from the beginning. 

END

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver

[erin8411]

That One Annoying Sibling

@summer-of-bad-batch

Main Prompt: "Stop touching me!" // "I’m not touching you!" (Week 13)

Alt. Prompt: Lula (Week 8)

Crosshair: Stop touching me, Wrecker!

Wrecker: I‘m not touching you, Lula is!

In TBB S1E1 Wrecker whacked Lula several times in Crosshair‘s face and I‘m sure it wasn’t for the first time. So here is cadet Wrecker, grating Crosshair by touching him with stuffie Lula. The latter tells his older brother to stop -- not a chance! And technically, it’s only Lula who touches Cross.

It‘s been such a long time since I’ve last drawn something. And when I looked at Summer of Bad Batch prompts, I was internally debating, if I should try it.

Me: Hey, look at all those entries! So many awesome ideas. Why not draw something too? It looks fun.

Also me: Maybe later. I‘m not feeling up to it.

And it only took me the whole summer and early September to finally grab my pencil and become active for a turn. Played with a filter afterwards so that the colors appear more washed out like on one of those old instant photos.

It’s simple and I like it. And it feels good to draw something without pressuring myself to make an outstanding creation. Self-pressure often kills that little motivation I have.

(Funny fact, this is the first time I created some fanart for TBB series.)

Inspiration

I got inspired by @locitapurplepink's

and the last two seconds from High Ground Animation‘s "CLONES - The Clone Wars Fan Animation Compilation". That eye-roll is so good.

(Seriously, when I first watched the clip, I didn’t realized it was fan-made. I thought, I can‘t remember that particular cutout, where in the TCW series is it?)

Aaand that wraps it up. Thank you for dropping by.

[resistantecho]

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 WEEK 5: "Need a hand?"

@summer-of-bad-batch

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

The Jar

Summer of Bad Batch | Week 5 | Prompts: "You're a bad liar" and "Need a hand?"

Summary: After being rescued from Skako Minor and joining Clone Force 99, Echo is still getting used to his modifications.

POV: Echo

Rating: PG

(Word Count: 784)

Read on Ao3

Echo stared at the vacuum-sealed jar of rations with narrowed eyes.

I WILL figure out a way to open you myself, he silently vowed to the small metal container sitting innocuously before him.

Usually the squad had boxes of rations - those were easy to open with one hand - but they had learned the hard way on this assignment that some of the wildlife here on Yrzac were also capable of breaking into the ration boxes, and therefore the sealed jars of food were necessary.

Echo hadn't wanted to admit he didn't know how he'd be able to manage opening the container, just like he'd refused to admit he was still having difficulty negotiating the rocky terrain and climbing with his prosthetic legs, just like he hadn't said a word about the fact the cybernetic implants that had been bored through his skull into his brain were still giving him excruciating headaches despite the med droids' assurances that the pain would dissipate eventually. He'd only been with Clone Force 99 for two weeks. He was NOT going to be a burden, be dead weight, ask for help with simple tasks like getting his own food. He would admit to nothing.

So he had taken the rations jar Wrecker had handed him in the morning, then had claimed he wasn't hungry and he'd eat later. And when Tech had taken watch as the others settled to sleep in the stone ruins where they'd set up camp for the night, Echo had snuck around the corner of one of the crumbling walls and stared at the sealed container, considering his dilemma.

He had tried bracing the jar between his knees to break the seal and unscrew the lid, but the metal jar against metal prosthetics proved too slippery. Same with wedging the jar under his right arm. Using his teeth would do nothing. For a wild moment, he considered throwing the jar against the ground - to release his frustration as much as to see if denting the jar would help - but no, that would be too loud...

"Need a hand?" a soft low voice sounded over his head.

Echo didn't jump, but he had to confess he was slightly startled as he turned to look up at Hunter.

"What?" he stammered. "What, no, I'm fine, I..."

Hunter crossed his arms and blinked at him, the light of the moons falling full on his face and clearly showing he was unimpressed by Echo's protests. "No, you're NOT fine; but if you say it again, I might actually leave you here to struggle with that kriffing impossible jar."

Echo sighed in defeat. "I want to be able to do it myself."

"And you will, just not tonight," Hunter said, holding his hand out for the container. Echo handed it over and Hunter, gripping it tightly in both hands and straining to open it, added, "You've had to adjust to a lot in the past few days, Echo. And you're doing great - better, I think, than anyone else would be able to do. It might take some time to figure out how to do things like open a jar with one hand, but you'll get there. You're an ARC trooper, after all." The lid unsealed with a quiet schhh-lok and Hunter finished unscrewing it before handing the open jar back to Echo. "In the meantime, maybe let your brothers help you every once in a while?"

"Thanks," Echo murmured as he took the jar, hesitating slightly before adding, "And, you know, not just for this," indicating the rations.

Hunter nodded, turning away and taking a few steps back to the campsite before stopping and looking back over his shoulder.

"Oh, and maybe let Tech take a look at your prosthetics? You looked like a newborn shaak trying to find its feet when we were running up that rocky hill today. Tech wouldn't stop going on and on with me about calibration and leverage and friction coefficients or... something, and I'm pretty sure he was referring to your legs."

Smiling ruefully, Echo nodded - of course the squad had noticed his difficulty, he had been foolish to try to hide it from them; but he appreciated that they hadn't mentioned anything to him at the time, for that would have been mortifying. "Yes, sir," he replied; and with this promise, Hunter left him to eat in peace.

He hadn't realized just how hungry he was until he took his first bite of biscuit... He had never been a big eater, but now he finished his day's rations in record time and leaned back against the wall with a contented sigh.

And with his hunger satiated, he suddenly noticed his headache wasn't quite so bad.

@summer-of-bad-batch

[fanfoolishness]

Radio Silence

Echo tries to send a message to a familiar channel. Angst. Written for @summer-of-bad-batch's prompt, radio silence, 483 words.

---

His mind was not his own. It chattered in binary and communications, lines of code rushing through like soldiers in endless corridors. They fed numbers into him and numbers came out, even as something else screamed in the distance, memories of flesh and blood and battle. Algorithms made tatters of his memories, using them for -- for what? He didn’t know, couldn’t remember, couldn’t see.

But one day there was an interruption, a gap, a chance, and he flung a number of his own out into the void, wondering if anyone would hear his transmission.

Captain Rex heard, and for the first time in long empty months, Echo remembered who he was, and that he was not alone.

-

“There. Comms are ready to go,” said Echo.

“You have attuned your device to our private channels?” Tech asked. “Excellent. You should be able to raise any of us should we become separated.”

Echo flinched. Separated. Not something he wanted to be, ever again. “I’ll keep in touch,” he said.

-

“Tech. Come in, Tech.”

Echo closed his eyes, letting out a long breath.

“Tech, if there’s any chance -- Please pick up.”

The ship was silent, close, oppressive.

“Tech. Pick up the damn comm!”

His eyes burned. He bit his lip, rubbing his face with the back of his hand, fingers clenched tight around his comm. 

He knew there’d be only the void at the other end. Knew it down deep, the same way he’d known Fives was gone just by the look on Rex’s face. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe he just didn’t have all the facts. Maybe there was still a chance. He’d had a second chance, why not Tech --

“You can’t be gone,” he said hoarsely. “It doesn’t make any damn sense.” The words tumbled out of him, even though he’d seen how close it’d been for the others, even though he knew how high the mountains of Eriadu rose. It made a terrible sense, but he couldn’t bear to believe it. Couldn’t believe that Tech was --

He held his breath. Was that a sound? A crackle? A voice?

He stared at the comlink. It was still and silent in his hand. 

Cold. Inert. A link to nowhere.

Echo switched the comlink away from Tech’s channel, fingers shaking as he did so. He dropped it onto the console and watched it roll, making no effort to stop it. What was the point? He slumped back in his seat, broken.

They’d lost Tech and Crosshair both. No intel. No win. Just this gaping agony in his chest, trying to claw its way out, sickening rage and loss and guilt forming a tangled maw. Echo sat with it, trying to swallow it down with every ragged breath.

But he couldn’t forget this, no matter how much he tried. The silence in the Marauder only grew, and Echo listened to the quiet in the aching dark.

[gun-roswell]

Chapters: 4/14 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & Other Star Wars Characters (Star Wars) Characters: CT-9904 | Crosshair, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-9901 | Hunter, CT-9902 | Tech, CT-9903 | Wrecker, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Batcher the Lurca Hound (Star Wars), Pabu Island Residents (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Clone Trooper Characters (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Howzer (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Mox (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Stak (Star Wars: The Bad Batch: Paths Unknown), Clone Trooper Deke (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Summer of Bad Batch 2024, summerofbadbatch2024, Fan Events and Prompts, Pabu Island (Star Wars), family and friends, Fun under the Sun, Snippets and Scenes, Ficlets, family time and bonding, Fun and Fluff, Humour, Light Angst, Fights and Squabbles, Family Dynamics, Adventure Series: Part 1 of A Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Summary:

One story, many parts: Each chapter containing individual ficlets in the life and times of the Bad Batch and their friends and one warm summer spent on the peaceful island of Pabu.

Tales as per inspired by the corresponding weekly prompts (see below).

Part of Summer of Bad Batch 2024 collection and series

@summer-of-bad-batch​

[ezras-left-thumb]

Ahh, thank you for the tag!! I love doing these and your post genuinely made me smile and kick my feet🥰 let’s get into it.

1. Been into the show since it first came out! I remember waiting for the weekly episodes to come out whilst doing my homework.

2. Tech absolutely. I don’t know, he just really appeals to me?? Always has been always will be my fav <3

3. I hope no one comes at me for this but I honestly didn’t like Wrecker at first. Idk why, but i love him now!

4. That’s tough but I’d have to say… Phee or Rex.

5. Oh God. Probably Tech or Omega or Echo lol. For various reasons for each of them

6. I’m a sucker for villains so I’d have to say Hemlock, (kinda?) he’s just a character who’s so inherently evil. Hate him as a person but he’s a wonderful character.

7. Crosshair absolutely. He’s be like “Oh, you did something bad? I’ve got body bags and a solid alibi.”

8. Omega and Wrecker!! They’d make sure everyone has the appropriate amount of pillows and popcorn.

9. I can't exactly think of anything right now, not to toot my own horn or anything but I'm pretty observant.

10. Um I have a ton of headcanons in a google doc but it's far too long to put on here so I'd have to say (not weird but) when they got back to Pabu Omega took to collecting seashells to make necklaces for everyone once a year. (There's a tree with seashell jewelry on it next to Tech's goggles.)

11. Every inch of this show is worshipped by us fans, but a favourite of mine from S2 is "I may process moments and thoughts differently, but that does not mean I feel any less." -Tech

12. Eriadu. It's ridiculous how this scene stuck with me since it aired, but his death actually made me cry.

13. Writing and posting about my fic (which I need to start doing more!!) And just doing anything I can because it has a special place in my heart where all my fandoms live <3

14. Wrecker, definitely, and Hunter I think. He'd be screaming his lungs out and then come off it and grumble, "This never happened" before he goes away to vomit.

15. Hunter and Echo give oldest, Wrecker and Tech are the middle children although Tech does sorta give youngest, (somewhere in the middle) and Crosshair and Omega are the youngest IMO.

16. S2 EP4, Tech's racer episode. Or Reunion (S1 EP8) Or Ruins of War (S2 EP2) or the S3 finale.

17. Again, people are gonna come for me but probably The Outpost. Idk, it just didn't have what I wanted, personally. Or any of the ep's without the Batch as a focus. Call me needy/selfish, but...

18. Coming home from school and plonking my bag down, getting in pyjamas and grabbing my laptop to crawl into bed and watch the newest episode. Also buying my Tech action figure. He's pretty cool.

19. Mean Girls, 100%

20. Everything. The little debates over stuff, sharing headcanons and art, and everyone participates in some way or another. Fanfictions, art, animation, music, incorrect quotes, tiktoks, it's all beautiful.

BAD BATCH 20 QUESTIONS

Get to know your fellow Bad Batch fandom community! Answer the following 20 questions! (Thanks to everyone who submitted questions for this Ask Game!)

Answer the questions and tag whoever you'd like to see their answers too 🥰

When/How did you get into the show?

Who is your favorite character from the show and why?

Was there a member of the Bad Batch you didn't like at first? If so, why? Has your view changed?

Who is your favorite non-Batch character?

Which character from the show do you most relate to?

Who is your favorite villain/antagonist from the show?

If you needed a Bad Batcher to help you commit a crime, who would it be?

Which Bad Batcher would be in charge (or take charge) of movie night?

What's something you didn't notice the first time watching the Bad Batch? (Or...what's something you didn't notice until someone else in the fandom pointed it out)

What is one strange head canon you have about any of the Bad Catchers that you haven't seen anywhere else?

What is a character quote/moment that is under appreciated from the show?

What scene/moment from the show lives in your head rent free?

What's your favorite way to participate in the Bad Batch Fandom?

Which Bad Batcher would scream the loudest on a rollercoaster?

Based on vibes alone, what is the "birth order" of the Batch? (Oldest, middle, youngest)

What's your favorite episode from the show and why?

What's your least favorite episode from the show and why?

Do you have any fun memories associated with the show?

What family movie would the Cadet Batch watch on repeat?

What is your favorite thing about being part of the Bad Batch fandom?

BONUS QUESTION

Did you commit voter fraud during prompt voting for @summer-of-bad-batch? 😂 (I have a google sheet that I'll share screenshots of at the end of the challenge with PROOF of the insanity of Summer of Bad Batch voter fraud...peak insanity, peak hilarity, loved every moment of it!)

No Pressure Tags: (all the Summer of Bad Batch community...I'd tag y'all, but that tag list would get insanely long...you know who you are 😘)

[ireadwithmyears]

You’ll learn to bounce back just like your trampoline

written for the summer of bad batch 2024 challenge, week two. @summer-of-bad-batch

word count:1.4 K

prompt: injured

A swimming lesson on Pabu goes wrong. Luckily, Omega has great brothers who are there for her when her attempt to do something beyond her skill level to look impressive backfires. (Title lyrics are from Robin by Taylor Swift)

Tags/warnings: descriptions of minor injuries/blood, minor descriptions of medical procedures/stitches, fluff, hurt/comfort.

also read on AO3

Omega, I need to see it, kid. Just let me have a look.”

Echo’s voice is kind and even, but still holds the signature arc trooper “that was an order” tone that he uses when he’s asking for something non-negotiable. It holds absolutely no room for argument, in spite of how much she wants to

Hunter, for his part, is holding her in his arms, feeling her sniffling and whimper against his chest, and wondering what the hell happened. 

It had been a simple, straightforward swimming lesson, beneath Pabu’s serene skies and warm sun as they swam in calm waters. Omega already knew how, but her technique and endurance could use work. On an island, surrounded by water and waves and the opportunity, she had excitedly jumped at the suggestion when Tech had proposed it, seeing it as an alternative to her normal educational study time. He could tell that being surrounded by nature and so many new things to explore was making her antsy and unable to focus on her normal tasks. So this had been his compromise.

A compromise that he was quickly coming to regret, as he joggs back towards the Marauder to retrieve their medkit. 

They had taught her how to properly jump, off the side of the dock, always under careful supervision for now so that one of them could check the alignment of her toes before she jumps, to ensure its success on the takeoff. 

He cannot begin to understand what, exactly, had possessed her to attempt jumping off the side of the dock backwards when everyone’s back was turned, nor does he pretend to. 

“Come on, ad’ika. Echo just wants to have a look, that’s all,” Wrecker encourages, gently coaxing her face upward by cupping her cheek in one of his large hands, being very careful to avoid her chin.

Her chin that is now split open by a large gash from when it had collided against the hard dock, the result of not pushing back far enough when she had taken the jump.

Wrecker cringes at the site, letting out a sympathetic hiss and ruffling her still wet hair.

Echo, for his part, winces but is otherwise unfazed, having seen much worse as he carefully inspects the damage. “It’s deep enough to need stitches,” he reports, gently tilting her head back.

Her eyes, that had up until this point been leaking with silent tears, quiet sobs occasionally escaping her lips, go wide, and she sharply turns to bury herself back against Hunter’s chest, seeming to shrink and attempt to hide against him.

“No,” her voice is high-pitched and frantic with fear. “No. Hunter, I’m sorry, please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to, please I don’t, I don’t want stitches please.” 

Her cries are insistent and pleading, words escaping in a rush that he’s pretty sure he can only understand because of his enhanced senses, and his heart breaks for her, even as he shakes his head regretfully.

“Hey, no, hey, shh. I’m not mad, Omega. I promise, no one is mad at you. You just made a mistake, kiddo, that’s all, happens to all of us,” he soothes, words whispered softly against her forehead as he holds her to him, gently rocking her back and forth. “But, kid, there’s no avoiding stitches. It won’t be able to heal properly without them.”

“B but that still means needles,” she whimpers, and he’s not sure if she’s trembling so violently because the water has made her cold, or if she’s genuinely that scared. Regardless, before he has room to answer, Tech is there, unpacking supplies with a practiced, familiar ease of someone who’s done this many times before.

“Which is why I will ensure you are sufficiently numbed beforehand,” he interjects.

She doesn’t mean to flinch away from Tech, really, she doesn’t. She knows it’s Tech, it’s her brother, and he’s going to keep her safe and ensure that her injury is treated with the upmost of care.

But being raised as a Kaminoen science experiment, the familiar sound of the catch the medkit makes as it opens makes her entire body go rigid, stiffening within hunters arms as she hides her face against his shoulder, heedless of the blood. She must make some sort of noise, some pathetic whimper that she is beyond caring about, because Hunter, his hand gentle as it cups the back of her head and smoothes over her hair, speaks softly.

“Come on, ner cyar,” he coaxes, gently shushing her noise of protest as he moves to re-situate her in his lap, holding her with her back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapping around her securely. “Tech isn’t gonna let anything bad happen to you, sweet,” he promises, only feeling her settle when his lips press to the top of her head, leaving several soft kisses just to pull The ghost of a smile out of her.

“I d didn’t mean to,” she repeats, sniffling softly as she looks up at Tech, eyes watery.

“I would imagine not,” he says dryly, using a cotton pad to gently dab numbing gel over the long, jagged cut. “One would assume that you would not intentionally smash your chin off a hard wooden dock while attempting to jump off the side of it backwards,” he quips, and there’s an amusement in his voice that makes her giggle in spite of herself, his lips almost imperceptibly pulling into a smile when he hears it.

Her cheeks flush with embarrassment, and she averts her eyes.

“We all make mistakes and errors in judgment, Omega,” he says steadily, carefully beginning to clean the wound, removing small splints of wood and debris from the dock with a set of tweezers, observing her face for any signs of discomfort as he works.

“You don’t,” she points out, raising a sceptical eyebrow at him.

Tec Looks thoughtful as he responds, gently dabbing at the cut with a disinfectant. 

“Perhaps, the errors I make are not as frequent nor perceptible discrepancies now,” he allows. “But that does not mean that I am in fallible. I can assure you, I am not above making mistakes, despite my exceptional mind often times preventing me from making such errors,” he says with a smile. “And perhaps Wrecker can regale you with some of my most noteworthy risks that I thought had been calculated at the time, but in hindsight, were not as well thought out as I had initially intended.”

Wrecker, who is a naturally energetic and engaging storyteller, takes the hint, observing his brother reaching for the local anaesthetic. He leans forward with a mischievous gleam in his eye, gaining the child’s focus and holding it so well that she doesn’t even notice when Tech

Injects around the cut with the numbing agent. 

Tech issues a soft warning as he prepares to thread the needle through, asking her to tell him if she feels any discomfort Beyond slight pulling and pressure, so that he may administer more local anesthetic, if needed. She nods, eyes nervous and wary, but as promised, she has been sufficiently numbed. 

They get through the sutures easily this way, his brothers occasionally chiming in to add in details, or Tech, eyes never leaving the wound as he closes it intently, corrects something one of them had said that was, in his opinion, extremely over exaggerated, or factually just entirely wrong.

The brothers, all working together to describe their days as cadets, outlining their own mistakes they had made and stupid injuries they had gotten as a result, are so good at keeping her occupied, that at several points, Tech has to remind her to keep her chin still in spite of her urge to laugh or smile, patiently pulling the sutures through her skin.

When he’s finished, expertly tying a knot at the end of the row of sutures to hold them together, he gives her a smile. 

“Well done, Omega,” he says softly. “You did well.” 

She sniffs, giving him a small smile and a knot before pressing her head back against Hunter’s chest, looking up at him after a moment with pleading tooka eyes, still watery with the remnants of tears and even before she asks, he knows he won’t be able to say no to whatever she’s about to beg for.

“Did did I do well enough to deserve an ice cone as a treat?” She asks, voice small and hopeful.

“Yes,” Tech is the one to respond, voice matter-of-fact but pleased smile on his face. “I believe that an ice cone would be an acceptable reward.” 

Hunter lets out an exaggerated grown, pretends to roll his eyes and smack a hand against his forehead in defeat, then picks her up into his arms, holding her close. 

“If it’s ice cones you want,” he grumbles playfully, gently bouncing her just to hear her laugh and smile. “Then ice cones you shall have.”

[foxwithadarkside]

"Light in the Darkness" is such a beautiful and poetic prompt…. But I saw this. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Bonus Alternate Prompt: Light in the Darkness

@summer-of-bad-batch