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Hello there! I'm Master Jedi Lena. I like Star Wars and writing and pina coladas. At any given moment, I'm thinking about hugging and/or making out with Crosshair. My biggest wish is for Grogu to get his own lil lightsaber. When I'm not busy being an independent woman and shoving popcorn down my throat (never at the same time, of course), you can find me procrastinating on my fics by procrastinating on my laundry. I think Delta Squad is pretty neat.
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A peek into Wrecker's life on May 5th through the years.
Part of my AU "The Batch Family" [Collection Masterlist]
Word count: 3.3k | Batch ages: Multiple
Note: Wrecker's life is full of excitement - the good and crazy kinds. He's quite the handful, at any age (poor momma Beth), but he's also that spark of positive energy his family needs. 💛
Three years old
"My room?"
Wrecker ran ahead into the center of the big, empty room. He pointed and looked back with a grin.
"No, baby, this is the living room," Momma calmly explained. She held Echo on one hip while Crosshair clutched at her free hand. Hunter and Tech stayed behind her, timidly looking around at this strange new place.
Wrecker ran to the next room and asked again, "My room?"
Momma laughed. "No, silly, that's the kitchen!"
Wrecker giggled. He knew that.
"Psst, try going that way." Momma motioned her head toward a hallway on the other side of the living room. Wrecker zoomed on past, his heavy footsteps echoing against the bare walls. Behind him, he could hear his mom trying to convince the others to follow him, but for some reason, they weren't very happy.
Wrecker jumped into the first bedroom.
"My room?" he shouted back down the hallway.
Momma had set down Echo and was walking over to join him. "Do you want this to be your room?"
Wrecker jumped up and down. "Yes! Yes! My room!"
"There's another bedroom. Do you want to see that one too, before you make up your mind?"
"No! This my room!"
"You'll have to share it, remember?"
"Hunter!" Wrecker ignored her and started spinning around with his arms held wide. "Hunter, look!"
Hunter had followed Momma and was pouting in the doorway. "I want go home."
"Me too!" Crosshair chimed in.
They were all upset since being told about having to move to a new home. But not Wrecker. Momma had said their new home would be bigger, and they'd have two bedrooms, and they'd have their own beds, and there'd even be an outside yard to play in. Wrecker was so excited.
"This is our home now."
"I don't like it," Hunter continued to pout. "No toys."
"We'll bring your toys over. And you'll get new, big boy beds. Where should we put them?"
Wrecker ran to one corner. "My bed here!"
"You want your bed to go there?"
"Yeah! And... and... Hunter bed... here!"
Wrecker ran a few feet along the wall and stomped his foot. Then ran to another part of the room and did it again.
"And Crossy bed here! And Tech bed here! And Echo bed here!"
He then went into the middle of the room and jumped. "And Momma bed here!"
Momma laughed. "I have my own room now, remember? And there's two bedrooms for you boys."
Wrecker's vision for the beds seemed to have captured Hunter's interest. His brother ran out to where Echo and Tech were sitting back in the living room, grabbed their hands, and pulled them into the bedroom.
"Yay!" Wrecker shouted and started jumping again. "Our room! Our room!"
The others joined in his celebration. Even Crosshair and Momma. They all jumped and spun and wiggled their butts in a silly dance. Soon, they'd all forgotten about their worries and joined in Wrecker's excitement over a new home.
- - -
Eight years old
"And then he went... pow! And the other guy... the bad guy... he went... bam bam! But then... wait Momma, watch..."
"I'm watching."
"He went... hi-yah! He karate-chopped him, like this! Right on the head!"
"Oh wow."
Wrecker took in a breath, having finally finished his reenactment of the latest Power Rangers episode. He wiped at his nose and walked over to sit in one of the kitchen chairs. Ten seconds later, he scooted off and started hanging from the counter. He still had a lot of energy.
"You're supposed to get ready for bed now, remember?" Momma said as she swept.
"I'm not tired." Though no sooner had he said it did he yawn.
"Why don't you help me with some chores?"
"I don't like chores."
"I don't either."
Wrecker stood back up and looked at his mom curiously. "You don't?"
Momma laughed. "Nope."
Wrecker's eyebrows screwed up as he thought about that.
"But... you always do chores."
She bent over and brushed the crumbs into a dustpan. "Mmhmm. Well, someone has to. Someone has to wash the dishes so I can make more food. And someone has to take out the trash so it doesn't overflow and get smelly. And we have to sweep the crumbs off the floor so no one steps on them. And your clothes have to be washed so you have something to wear every day."
Wrecker watched as she deposited the swept-up crumbs into the trash and then put away the broom.
"That's a lot of chores," he said.
Momma nodded at him. "Yep. But I want you all to be clean and healthy and happy. So, that's why I do chores, even though they aren't fun."
That word sparked a thought. An idea. Wrecker didn't like things that weren't fun. He didn't like feeling bored or sad. And he didn't like when others felt that way, either. Hunter always had ideas to make things more fun. Maybe he could do the same for Momma.
"I know! We can race! That's fun!"
He went over to where she stood by the trashcan. There was the trash, and there was a box of recyclables, though he could never say that word quite right. He picked up the box.
"Race to take out the trash?" Momma smiled. "Okay, you're on!"
She pulled at the drawstrings and hoisted the bag out of the can. Wrecker pointed out a groove in the hardwood floor for them to line up on.
"On your marks..." Momma said beside him.
"Get set..." Wrecker said as he wiggled his feet, preparing to launch.
"Go!"
They took off, waddling more than running as they carried their clunky items. The back door was already open, letting in a pleasant evening breeze, so they went out that way rather than hassling with the door to the garage. Wrecker laughed as he turned the corner around the side of the house first and his mom let out a shriek. It was dark but there was enough light coming from the bedroom windows along the way. Wrecker could see some of his brothers peering through to find out what was going on.
He pounded down the concrete pathway and approached the trash bins. He could feel Momma right behind him. He slowed down just a little bit on purpose so they both reached the bins at the same time.
"Aww noo!" she laughed. "I think you won!"
"No, you won!" he giggled along with her.
She opened the lid of one bin and swung her bag into it. Then she lifted the lid of the recycling bin so Wrecker could dump in the box.
"It was a tie then," she sighed. "We'll have to have a re-do. Next trash night?"
She held out her hand and Wrecker shook it.
"Deal!"
- - -
Thirteen years old
"Well that's not good."
While his brothers all turned to see what Crosshair was pointing out, Wrecker finished plopping another heaping spoon of mashed potatoes on his tray. The lunch ladies on the other side of the counter pretended not to notice; he was the only middle schooler they knew who said thank you every day, so he could have extra helpings if he wanted.
"Thanks, Martha! Thanks, Fran!" he said on cue, giving them a little wave. He turned to leave and almost ran into the back of Tech.
"What's goin' on?"
He noticed all his brothers gripping their lunch trays and glaring across the cafeteria toward their usual table. Only now, it was occupied by a few other kids.
"It's the end of the semester," grumbled Echo. "Why are they doing this now?"
"It's not even the best table," said Crosshair. "They usually sit over there, by all the girls."
"Maybe they forgot?" offered Wrecker. He knew it was a silly suggestion, but he had to try to lighten the mood somehow. He was hungry; he'd sit on the floor to eat if he had to.
"Come on, let's ask them to move," said Hunter. He led the charge across the cafeteria and soon they stood before the group of table thieves.
"Well, well, if it isn't the batch of weirdos," grinned one of them. Jesse. He wasn't a bully, but every once in a while he liked to poke at people. Usually when his home life wasn't going well, Wrecker had noticed. Just this morning he'd seen the kid arguing with his dad at drop off.
"You're in our spot, Jesse," Hunter said.
"I know. You guys seem to love this table so much, I thought I'd see what all the fuss is about before we leave this place."
"There is no fuss. We just like to stay out of the way."
Jesse smirked. "Why, afraid you'll be made fun of? You know it'll only get worse in high school, right? I'm doing you a favor. There's some free tables riiiight in the middle over there. Perfect for getting used to attention."
Wrecker could sense Hunter was tensing up. He coughed out a laugh.
"It's just a table, guys. We can sit over there. No big deal."
"Hey, look," said one of Jesse's friends with a particularly bad case of acne. "The dumb one had a good idea for once!"
Wrecker frowned. He wasn't dumb... he just didn't understand things, sometimes.
"Don't talk to my brother like that!" Hunter quickly snapped.
"I believe Wrecker scored higher on the math exam than you did," Tech added.
The acne boy held up a finger and pretended to push up imaginary glasses. "I believe," he mocked Tech's voice. The table of boys started to snicker at his impression.
"You'll shut your mouths if you know what's good for you," Crosshair sneered.
"And what are you going to do about it?" Jesse stuck his chin up. "You're all weirdos. You don't have any friends. You still play make believe. And you have..."
He made a show of pointing and counting. "...one less arm than we do."
His friends snickered again and Wrecker had had enough. He'd normally stay out of banter like this when food was at stake, but there were just too many insults this time for him to stay impartial. He walked up and slammed his tray on the table, causing some of the kids to jump.
"Why don't you and your little friends leave now?" he growled. His voice was deep, a lot deeper than theirs. Some of the nearby tables quieted as they noticed the argument starting next to them.
"Why don't you make me?" Jesse challenged. The boy was confident, he'd give him that. But he'd soon learn why bullies rarely messed with Wrecker.
"Don't mind if I do!" Wrecker declared.
He pushed past his brothers and ignored Hunter's pleas to back off. Jesse's eyes grew wide and he gave out a yelp as Wrecker grabbed ahold of him under his arms and lifted him right off the bench. He made sure to give him just a bit of a push as he set him down, making him stumble a few feet.
"What the hell?" Jesse yelled, clearly trying to make a scene now. He knew he was no match for a big kid like Wrecker. "You're such a freak!"
Wrecker set his jaw at the nickname. Weirdo was one thing, but freak? He'd have to teach this kid a lesson.
"Don't forget your food!" Wrecker grabbed a handful of potatoes and flung it at Jesse. Kids around them gasped at the unexpected move, and Jesse himself looked more surprised than anything as he blinked through the mush on his face.
There were maybe three seconds of stillness before everything exploded. Jesse's friends got up in a huff, though what they planned to do went unknown as Wrecker's brothers also sprung into action. They grabbed fistfuls of their own food and threw it at them before they could do anything. This then led to both sides flinging food back and forth, with nearby kids sometimes getting caught in the crossfire and then joining in to get back.
Meanwhile, Jesse had charged at Wrecker, practically throwing himself around his middle. Wrecker only barely moved at the impact. He twisted Jesse around and held him in a headlock while the boy thrashed about.
"Let me go!" he gasped.
"Not until you apologize to me and my brothers," said Wrecker.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Wrecker loosened his grip, allowing Jesse to wiggle out and catch his breath. Just then, a loud, commanding voice rang out over the clamoring.
"That's enough!"
All around kids froze. Some with food poised to throw, others mid-cheer. Echo was crawling on the table, Crosshair next to him with a tray held up like a shield. Hunter had sticky soda running down his face, and Tech was aiming a bottle of ketchup at someone. Wrecker grinned at the sight, despite the now sheepish vibe of the room.
Principle Yoda was small, especially surrounded by budding preteens, but he walked tall amongst them. He stopped at what seemed to be the heart of the action and looked each and every kid in the eye, one by one. Every kid, in turn, cast their eyes downward in embarrassment.
"Well? How did this all start?"
He patiently waited for an answer. Wrecker glanced up at Jesse, standing a few feet away with mashed potatoes smeared in his hair and shoulders hunched in defeat. He wasn't sure why he suddenly felt bad for the kid. Maybe it was the memory of watching his dad yell through the car window that got to him.
"It was my fault, Principle Yoda." Wrecker straightened up. "I thought it'd be fun to start a food fight. I convinced my brothers and my friends to go along."
"Hmm," Yoda mused. "Fun, I'm sure it was. But also... destructive? Inappropriate? Careless? Hmm. What punishment do you think is most fitting?"
"I'll clean it up," Wrecker nodded. "Every last smudge of food. I promise."
"We'll help," Hunter spoke up.
"I will, too."
Wrecker looked over at Jesse in surprise. The boy gave him an apologetic look and he smiled back. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.
"Good, good," said Yoda. "Better get to work, then. I'll let your parents know you might be late for pick up this afternoon."
Wrecker blanched. Oh their mom was going to be pissed.
- - -
Eighteen years old
"Your eyesight should return soon, but those burns will need some time to heal. I'll have the nurse stop by with care instructions. We can follow-up next week to see how they're looking and go from there."
"Thanks, doc," said Wrecker. He gave a two-finger salute as the man walked out of the hospital room to find the nurse.
At the foot of his bed stood Crosshair, arms across his chest, and head shaking slowly. Despite his apparent disapproval, he had been the only one Wrecker trusted to be his emergency contact. Tech was always too busy, and Hunter and Echo would only launch into lectures, even if it wasn't his fault. And he didn't need to worry their mother, though he supposed she'd have to find out about this sooner or later.
"What were you thinking?"
Wrecker shuffled himself to sit upright a little more. "I was thinking I'd discovered a new cleaning solution."
Crosshair cocked an unamused eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be good at chemistry?"
"I am!" Wrecker insisted, and then promptly winced as he aggravated the side of his head currently covered in gauze. He gingerly patted it. "I just... get excited sometimes... and forget to try out the math before mixing the chemicals..."
Crosshair shook his head again and went over to his side. The side that, unfortunately, he could no longer see out of. Wrecker shifted to get him back in line with his good eye, causing the hospital bed to creak under his weight. He clutched at the blanket they'd draped over his legs.
"What?" Crosshair noticed the anxious movement.
"Well, uh, I was just wonderin'... should I tell Mom what happened before or after I tell her I'm quitting college?"
If Crosshair was surprised by the news, he didn't show it. Wrecker was a little miffed. He could usually get a reaction out of his brother, even if no one else could.
"You're not surprised?" he asked.
Crosshair shrugged. "I kinda figured you'd quit eventually. I told you school wasn't your thing. Or Hunter's. No one ever listens to me."
Wrecker ignored his brother's whining.
"Well I've been thinkin' about it for a while. I'll finish this semester, get the credits. And then..."
He trailed off dramatically, but Crosshair still wasn't playing along.
"You'll join the army?"
"Aauugh!" Wrecker huffed against his pillows. "How did you know?"
"Same way I knew you were going to quit soccer and play football instead."
"You knew that because you saw me talking to Coach Gregor about it. He doesn't have anything to do with the arm--"
"I know because I pay attention to things," Crosshair sighed. "You've been tweeting about that new Special Forces show nonstop. Those guys look almost as big as you."
Crosshair playfully poked at Wrecker's bicep with a smirk.
"So... you think it's a good idea? You think I could do it?"
"Of course."
"Mom's not going to like it, though."
Crosshair scrunched up his face. He couldn't argue with that. "Eh... she'll come around. Eventually. Maybe."
Wrecker couldn't help but chuckle a bit. Echo had ambitions to travel and help save the world, somehow. Tech was quickly making his way toward being a pilot or an astronaut or something of that nature. Crosshair still kept his secrets and Hunter wasn't that far from a breakdown. They were barely adults. Not even able to drink. And here they were, getting tattoos and making crazy career moves and blowing up chemistry labs. Their poor mother.
"At least Mom's married now, right?" Wrecker tried to find the silver lining. He always did. "He's good to her."
"Just like I said he would," Cross gave him a knowing look.
"Yeah, yeah, no one listens to you, we get it."
Wrecker batted at his arm, and Crosshair acted like he'd been punched. Thankfully, the nurse finally came in before they could tussle any further.
- - -
Twenty-three years old
"Whoa, kid's got skills!"
Wrecker crouched behind the girl to get a look at her side of the Battleship board. All she had left was Hunter's aircraft carrier. Omega giggled at the praise.
"Indeed, she does," Hunter frowned as he sized up his next move.
Wrecker held out the bag of chips he was carrying and the girl eagerly grabbed a handful.
"Wrecker," Hunter scolded him. "She'll ruin her dinner."
"Ah," Wrecker waved him off. "Don't listen to him. He's just grumpy he's not winning."
Omega giggled again and took another handful of chips.
Wrecker ruffled her hair and moved on into the kitchen. He set down the chips and grabbed a beer, cracking it open with his hand and flicking the cap into the trash.
He took a long sip of the cool liquid as he looked back into the living room. That room had seen a lot of action over the years. From pillow forts and domino runs, to family movie nights and late-night homework sessions. It'd had every beverage imaginable spilled and had survived one of their mom's spontaneous remodels. It had been the perfect space for his family to come together.
And now, the family had grown, filling up the space even more. Mom rested against her husband on the couch. Hunter playfully teased his foster daughter. Tech and his unlikely girlfriend animatedly discussed the topic-of-the-day with Echo and his fiancee. A newfound cousin showed Crosshair something on her phone. Wrecker wore a contented smile as he took it all in, so incredibly grateful that everyone had made the effort to come together while he was on R&R. And just one day after their adoption anniversary, too.
Before he could get too emotional about it, Wrecker set down his beer and cleared his throat, reentering the room.
"Alright, let's turn this party up and play some Pictionary!"
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Content warnings: Cursing, discussions of death/killing, Hux being generally awkward 🥁
Note: What do you mean it's been 16 months since the last chapter? *insert Jennifer Lawrence meme here* 😭
Your first official day on the job as Hux's personal assistant was rough... to say the least. Armed with nothing but your access badge and a vague idea of what these rounds should entail, you fumbled through the entire ordeal, starting by getting lost trying to locate each department's headquarters and ending on sour notes with each of the department heads, half of whom didn't believe Hux had a new assistant already, and the other half clearly fearing the man too much to give any honest or genuine answers. Either way, you didn't have any information worth putting into a report, and your fears of being the next assistant in an apparently long line of failures seemed that much closer to coming true.
And so that's how you ended up in a supply closet at one in the morning with your best friend.
You were still upset with her, of course, but you needed to be with a familiar face. Hear a familiar voice. Preferably one that didn't recite some fake platitudes or snidely dismiss you. Nat may have been a little insane, bringing you here, but you knew she still cared. In her own way.
"Fuck them," she said. You leaned against shelves on opposite walls of the only private space you could find on short notice, a supply closet down the hall from the maintenance bunks. Both of your arms were crossed, the one sign there was any lingering beef between you.
"Fuck all of these motherfuckers," she kept going. "Fuck General Hux, fuck the interrogation droids, fuck that technician prick who stole my socks this morning..."
"Fuck Sergeant Beloch?" you asked with a knowing look.
"Not yet," Nat threw back a salacious smirk.
You didn't have the energy to roll your eyes but your face must have still shown your lack of amusement.
"Hey, I really mean it. Fuck 'em all."
You made yourself swallow and choose your next words carefully. "Interesting perspective to have, given the fact you chose to come here."
Nat was silent. Her eyes were trained in your direction but you could tell she wasn't really looking at you. She was lost in her own head, a place she hated being in but couldn't help traveling to every so often, usually because you made her. Sometimes she came out of it even more wild and angry, other times it made her realize a few important things. You wondered what it was going to be this time.
"I know you're expecting an apology," she eventually said, her eyes refocusing onto yours. "But I'm not giving you one. I did the right thing. I saved our lives."
"You made us bow down to the enemy. You do know that's what our friends and families saw, right? We could've died standing our ground and instead--"
"I didn't make you do anything," she spat back. "You were more than welcome to make some heroic last stand or whatever on your own. But you didn't. You went along with my plan, and that was your choice."
"Like I was going to abandon you."
"And like I was going to let you die."
You were both silent now, staring at each other as you realized that while each of you fully understood the other person, you would never agree with their choice.
"We can't just fuck them," you finally whispered, getting back to the original topic. "We have to work with them."
"Or work to undermine them." Nat pushed off of her perch and started pacing around the small supply closet, pretending to be interested in some of the items on the shelves.
You, meanwhile, couldn't help but look behind you in paranoia, as if Hux himself was on the other side of the wall and listening in on everything.
"Think about it," Nat continued. "We're on the inside, surrounded by intel everyone else can only dream about. If we can just find a way to transmit it, or get ourselves off this bloody ship and tell the Resistance directly...."
"That's so dangerous," you shook your head. "If we were caught..."
"We'd be killed." Nat turned back around to face you with a look that dared you to challenge her. "Which, if I recall, was what you preferred to have happen anyway."
You bit your tongue, literally, to keep yourself from responding to her charged comment. Barely a minute into this unspoken agree-to-disagree arrangement and you were back at it again. If Nat wasn't willing to let it go, you would have to. For the sake of both your sanity's. And your lives.
"Why do you think Hux asked to have one of us be his assistant?" you decided to take a different approach. "Don't you think he, or anyone else who knows about us for that matter are watching? Waiting for us to give any hint that we're spying?"
Nat shrugged, already bored now that you weren't putting up the fight she wanted. "Nothing like a good challenge. Besides, it's not like you have any other options here. You either beat them or join them. Up to you."
She made for the door, pausing with her hand hovering by the control panel. Her shoulders lowered slightly and she looked back over at you with an odd look.
"Whatever you decide, we're in this together. Right?"
You realized she was worried. Maybe even afraid. Your fearless friend, always diving into the deep end without ever testing the waters, acting first and justifying herself later... and yet, she still needed a friend.
You just wished she could see you needed one, too.
"Of course," you said.
* * *
Hux rubbed at his jaw as he marched down to the bridge. Somehow the stiffness there had started feeling more painful than his persistent headaches. It would be annoying if he didn't have so much else to deal with.
Snoke had given Ren a fucking fortnight to investigate who had given him bad intel. That meant up to two weeks of unrestricted access to everything and everyone on the ship. And considering how Ren had removed his helmet just to show off the self-satisfied smirk on his ugly mug, Hux was certain the asshole would milk it. Take his time. Start with the least suspecting officer and pick them off one by one, just to get under Hux's skin.
Well, Hux wasn't going to have it. Not this time. No, he'd conduct a little investigation of his own. He suspected ineptitude; one of the junior officers who were always too eager to run with the first promising lead before fully vetting it out. All he'd need to do was offer leniency, at least more than they'd get from the rabid Force user, maybe threaten their careers just a little bit, and he'd get a confession much sooner than Ren.
To give himself even more of a head start, he'd also do a quick sweep of their work stations, just in case the offender was even more dumb about it and left behind some evidence. A downloaded file. An improperly deleted message. Heck, a handwritten note with coordinates to Clonu wouldn't be out of the question. Idiots always left behind breadcrumbs, and Hux always sniffed them out.
Even in the middle of the night in his pajamas.
He was a few turns away from the bridge when he ran into his assistant. He couldn't help his sudden intake of breath just as she let out a surprised gasp of her own. They stood a few feet apart in stunned silence for several agonizing seconds.
"What in hells are you doing?" Hux, of course, was the first to break, having every right to reprimand given the circumstance. She self-consciously clutched at the sweater she had wrapped around her standard issue nightclothes; Hux pulled at his own cloak, even though it was already covering most of his black silken pajamas.
"I was visiting my friend, sir" she said around a gulp.
"In the middle of the night?"
Her eyes lowered, though it seemed more out of embarrassment than fear. He wasn't catching her in a lie, he didn't think. Still, with everything going on, a wandering assistant with unknown motives was the last thing he needed.
"It's been hard to sleep, sir," she said in a low voice. Her eyes flicked back up to meet his briefly. He could probably guess at the meaning. Endless nights of interrogation. A stressful first day on the job. A bunk that was just uncomfortable enough. All of the above...
Hux rubbed at his jaw again as he sighed.
"Well... I still expect you punctual and alert in the morning, so... you'd better work that out."
He laughed internally while she nodded, oblivious to the irony of his words. He had been surviving years off an irregular sleep schedule. He wasn't sure anymore if it was his anxiety or spite that kept him going.
What kept her going? Her friend? Her mysterious reasons for being here?
"Yes, of course, sir."
"General," he grumbled.
"General," she mumbled.
They stared at each other for a long moment. It wasn't so tense as it was... awkward. She wasn't leaving. Nor was he, but he had essentially given her a directive to go work out her sleep problem. Did he really need to formally dismiss her? She had interrupted him.
Hux couldn't decide if he felt angry or sick in this unpleasant moment. Had he made a mistake, letting this pair of defectors aboard? Making one of them his own personal assistant? Was the experiment more trouble than it was worth? He'd barely had any time to pay it attention, getting swept up instead by this asinine situation with Ren. An actual assistant, well-versed in Order ongoings and with clear motivations, would've benefited him greatly right now. He could delegate some of these tasks, shift the blame if he was ever called into question for it...
"Are you alright?"
Hux wanted to frown at the sudden question but found he already was. He hadn't noticed how deep into thought he'd gone. The woman had apparently taken his scowling silence as some sort of indication that he was not, quote, "alright."
And since he wasn't immediately responding, too busy huffing in annoyance and massaging his jaw again, she went ahead and kept speaking.
"I mean, you're also awake and...." She faltered, unsure of an appropriate word. She settled for gesturing at the random hallway they found themselves sharing and continued. "Is there anything I can assist you with?"
Hux stiffened. Had she read his mind? Gods, it was too late for such nonsense.
"No," he said curtly. "I'm..."
He was going to say fine but stopped himself from giving her the satisfaction. It was none of her business how he was, even if it helped her figure out how to fulfill her duties as an assistant. Which would've required her to be genuine in her inquiry. Which she wasn't. Most likely. Maybe.
"You're dismissed," he stated instead.
She gave a sort of sad, resigned smile and nodded. "Yes. General."
He didn't step out of the way as she passed so he caught a whiff of that awful soap they issued to the infantry. He wouldn't look after her but would wait until her footsteps petered out.
They did so only a breath later, causing him to look back after all. She had paused and seemed a little shy as she said one last thing.
"Press your tongue to the roof of your mouth."
He blinked.
She gulped.
"For your jaw pain. Press your tongue up, then open and close your jaw. It works for me, anyway. Until I can get a heat pack on it."
She gave a nod and then scurried off. Hux watched intently as she disappeared around the corner. After another beat, he finally forced himself to move, shaking his head to clear the perplexing thoughts about his assistant and reorient back to his mission. He sauntered off toward the bridge, cloak billowing behind.
Though when he next brought his hand up to his jaw, he paused and tried out the tongue technique instead. To his relief and chagrin, it worked.
In Other Words Tag: @lucyysthings, @lemongingerart, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @eternal-silvertongued-prince, @techie-bear, @nahoney22, @aconstructofamind, @savagemickey03, @aconstructofamind, @mysticwitchcraftco, @katja4406
A peek into Echo's life on April 4th through the years.
Part of my AU "The Batch Family" [Collection Masterlist]
Word count: 3.6k | Batch ages: Multiple
Note: Time to explore a bit of Echo's life! Though he loves his brothers, he definitely has more of an independent side that grows as he does. I grinned like an idiot writing each one of these scenes. 💙
7 months
"Echo! What are you-- oh my gosh. Jaster! Come here! Look! Look at Echo! Look at you, big boy! Yes, you're such a big boy now! Yes, yes, yes. Jaster!"
Echo held on to the edge of the couch, one set of chubby fingers clinging to the fabric as he stood for the first time. His mommy jumped and squealed around him in delight, so of course he followed suit. His grin widened to reveal one budding tooth, front and center. He giggled and moved his feet to mimic her dance.
Unfortunately, the movement caused him to lose his balance. His fingers couldn't hold on as he wobbled backward and landed on a diapered bum.
"What is it? What's going on?"
His daddy's voice came around the corner while his mommy wailed.
"Ohhh you missed it! Are you okay, baby? You okay?"
She rushed over to him, rubbing his back and putting her face next to his. Echo wasn't going to cry, but his mommy didn't have her smile anymore. He stopped smiling, too.
"Arla, don't hover," his daddy said.
"I'm not,” she said, but still moved away. Just a little bit. She dropped her hand from his back.
Echo looked from his mommy to his daddy, both watching him intently. He wanted to see them smile again. He reached his hand out toward the couch.
"That's it, little buddy," said Daddy.
"Yes! Yes!" said Mommy.
Echo scooted himself closer until his hand grasped at the couch. He was slow, but he finally pushed himself up again.
"You did it, Echo!"
"Look at you! My big boy! Ahead of your milestones!"
"Arla..."
"What? He is!"
Echo was delighted they were smiling again. He laughed and flung his head on the couch, giggling while his mommy and daddy tickled and cooed and rubbed at his back.
Eventually he fell back on his bottom again but he kept on smiling.
- - -
5 years old
"Okay, who remembers the plan?"
Echo joined his brothers on the front stoop and looked back at Mom. Tech and Hunter raised their hands eagerly so he did, too.
"Hunter. What's the first step?"
"We wipe our feet!" He demonstrated the action, quickly rubbing his shoes on the doormat. The others crowded around him to do the same, elbowing and knocking against each other's backpacks in a frantic, whining mess. But Echo stepped back. He knew that was not the first step.
"Nuh-uh-uh," Mom patiently chastised them. "You're forgetting the most important part. Echo?"
"We have to line up!" he said, beaming when Mom nodded in affirmation.
The pushing and shoving from the others continued as they fought for their place in line.
"I got here first!"
"No I did!"
"Move!"
"Mom, he stepped on foot!"
Echo looked between them and Mom, waiting for something to be done, but she only folded her arms and watched them tussle. He folded his arms, too. Or rather, he wrapped his full arm around his middle and rested his stubby arm on top.
Eventually the chaos settled down as Hunter stood his ground on the mat and the others fell back behind him. Mom stepped in and put a gentle hand on Echo's shoulder and guided him forward, right behind Hunter.
"Hey, no cut-sies!" Wrecker began to whine but Mom silenced him with a look.
"There's no such thing as cut-sies with your brothers," she said evenly. "It doesn't matter who's first. This is all your home, you will all get inside no matter the order."
Echo nodded while the others didn't seem to be listening. Wrecker was still bumping into Tech playfully while Crosshair seemed to be eating a booger. Hunter wiped his shoes again.
"And now we wipe our feet!"
"That's right," Mom agreed. "One-by-one, wipe your shoes on the mat and go inside. And then what happens. Wrecker?"
Wrecker stopped messing with Tech and looked sheepishly back at Mom. "Okay, I'll stop."
"What's happens when you go inside?" she repeated.
Wrecker, never one to keep still, shuffled around in a circle. "We... we... we have to... um..."
"Shoes," Tech whispered next to him.
"We... we... we put our shoes... we put our shoes away...." He spun in a circle again.
"Away where? Tech?"
Tech pulled himself up to his full height, like an army man standing at attention. "In our cubbies."
"That's right. The cubbies you decorated yesterday. And what else goes in there, Crosshair?"
Echo peered down the line at his quiet brother, who seemed to just be chewing on his whole finger now.
"Pak-pak," he slurred around his finger.
"Backpacks, yes. Okay." Mom clapped her hands together. "Are we ready?"
Everyone shouted yes, though they weren't quite in sync.
"Okay..." Mom leaned over Hunter to unlock the door. "Go!"
Hunter wiped his feet and marched into the house. Echo followed just behind. He found his cubby tucked in the new bench Mom had gotten, between Hunter's and Tech's. He sat on the part of the bench right over his cubby so he could take off his shoes. Crosshair was the only other one who did it that way; the rest of his brothers sat on the floor and tugged them off.
Once Echo had gotten his shoes off, he crouched down and pulled out his cubby. Mom had written each of their names in Sharpie, but they'd been able to add whatever decorations they wanted to the clear plastic bins. He had chosen the spaceship stickers for his and had stuck them in a neat line right across the top. And even though it had been sticky and gross, he had painted his one hand blue and left a handprint just to the side of his name.
"I did it! I finished first!" Hunter jumped up and down.
"It's not a contest..." Mom sighed while rubbing his hair. "But good job."
Echo shimmied off his backpack and plopped it into the bin next to his shoes. He pushed it back under the bench and skipped to stand next to Hunter.
"I'm done, too!"
The others joined shortly and Mom pulled out a book of stickers from her purse.
"Well done, boys! As promised, you each get a new sticker for following the plan today. And if you can follow the plan every day for the rest of this week, you'll get another sticker."
There was some more scuffle as they crowded around and picked out their new stickers, and then hurried over to find the perfect spot to stick them on their cubbies. Echo, though, held on to his.
"I like mine just the way it is," he said.
Mom pulled him into her side and gave him a kiss on top of his head. "And I like you just the way you are, my darling. Never stop being a good boy, okay?"
Echo nodded and nestled into her side as they watched his silly brothers.
- - -
Ten years old
"Alright, who's next?"
Coach Gregor helped Tech as he dismounted from the rope and turned around for the next kid in his class to try the climb. His smile faltered upon seeing only two left, and the discomfort did not escape Echo's notice.
"Uh, Riyo, your turn," said Coach as he held out his hand for her.
The girl rushed over in excitement and Echo hung his head in embarrassment. The rest of the P.E. class, who had all had their turns at the long-awaited rope climb, were now milling about on the other side of the gym. His brothers were playing some sort of freeze-tag game. He knew he should've joined them long ago, but for some reason he stayed rooted to his spot in the line, watching every one of his classmates try their hands at it.
Riyo was able to pull herself up a few times, past where Coach's arms waited in case of a fall. She squealed in delight and then gently lowered herself back until he could help her down.
"Good job!" he praised and offered a high-five. Her ponytail bobbed as she skipped off to join the others.
Coach looked over at Echo with a sad smile.
"I'm sorry, kid," he chuckled nervously, running a hand behind his neck as he walked over. "I didn't realize how many arm-heavy activities I'd planned for the semester."
True, Echo had been sitting out of a few P.E. exercises lately. Dodgeball, crab soccer, their field trip to the tennis courts. But he hadn't cared as much about those. Coach had let him be his assistant referee and blow on his whistle, which was pretty cool. But the rope climb... that was a big deal. It was only allowed once a semester and everyone in school talked about it. He'd even practiced with his brothers at home, on a rope they'd tied to a low-hanging branch in the backyard. Well, he'd held on with his one arm and dangled for a bit, which Hunter had assured him still counted, so he basically had practiced just like them.
"But next week I was thinking we'd play kickball, weather's supposed to be nice..."
"I want to try, Coach," Echo interrupted him. He was scared to speak up but did it anyway. "I want to try to climb the rope."
Coach looked surprised and gave out another squeaky chuckle. He looked over at the rest of the class, all caught up in their own games, and then back at Echo, who was trying his very best to look brave. Coach then looked back at the rope for a moment and seemed to have an idea.
"Okay, bud. Let's do it."
Echo let out a breath. "Really?"
"Yeah. I got a plan for you. Come on up."
Echo gave a quick grin full of equal parts relief and excitement. Then he got serious and rushed over to where Coach was kneeling by the dangling rope.
"Okay, take hold of the rope up here and stick your foot out right here."
Echo did as instructed, grasping the rope just above his head and dangling his foot next to his teacher's bent leg. Coach wrapped the bottom part of the rope around his foot and then gently pushed his knee downward.
"See how the rope becomes taught with pressure? That'll help you stabilize. Once you kick off the ground, you'll put your other foot below it. Then you'll be able to push up on the rope until your arm bends. Here, I'll help you get started."
Coach stood behind him and held onto his sides. After a three-second count, Echo jumped up. Coach held him so he could maneuver his feet and push himself up, just like he'd been told.
"See, now you can reach up on the rope. Let your legs do the work for you."
Echo gulped as he looked upward. The rope jiggled whenever he moved; it didn't feel all that sturdy. But he trusted Coach and gave it a shot. With his breath held, he let go of the rope and quickly reached up to grasp it again.
"Yeah, just like that! You okay?"
Echo let out a breathy laugh. "Yes. I want to keep going."
"Okay. I'm going to let go of you a little bit. See if you can take your own weight."
Echo felt the hands at his sides relax. They still hovered nearby, but he definitely had to hold on tighter and use his own muscles now. The rope twisted and jiggled some more, but with Coach right behind him he didn't panic.
"Good. Good. Now, move your legs up. Keep the rope wrapped around your foot."
Echo sucked in another breath and went for it. He pulled up his legs, really feeling the strain in his arm as he held on tight. The rope came out from under his foot and then he got scared again.
"It's okay. Use your feet. Get it back."
Echo dangled from the rope as he fought to get it between his feet again. He finally did and was able to rest as the tension took some of the weight off.
"Now, push yourself up again."
He pushed. He was so much higher now. His stomach was facing Coach's head.
"Hey look! Echo's climbing the rope!" He heard one of his brother's voices calling out from behind him, then came the sound of pounding feet as everyone ran over to watch.
"Whoa, look at Echo!"
"He can do it!"
"Go Echo!"
"You got this!"
"That's my brother!"
With his classmates cheering him on, Echo swallowed another lump of nerves and looked upward with more determination this time. He was no longer trying to climb the rope; he was doing it.
"Push and reach," Coach reminded.
Echo moved his legs up, keeping the rope between his feet this time, pushed, and reached above. The crowd roared their approval.
"I'm doing it! I'm doing it!" he said with a grin as he looked down at everyone. His brothers gave him extra loud cheers.
He nodded and tried it again. Legs up, push, reach. Legs up, push, reach. He was now past Coach's hovering hands, further than a lot of his other classmates had made it. Hunter and a few others had gone all the way to the top, of course. He didn't think he could go that far. But he wanted to push just a liiitle bit more.
"You doing okay, bud?" Coach called up to him. "You'll need to come down the same way you went up, so don't wait until you're tired."
"I'm okay," he said quickly. "I can do one more."
"One more," Coach agreed.
Echo took a few breaths. Legs up... uh oh. The rope slipped away again. He whimpered a bit as his arm took all of his weight. Gasps and cries came from the audience, making him feel even more alarmed. He wiggled along with the rope, flailing his feet desperately.
"Don't panic." Thankfully Coach's voice reached him through the hollering of his class and the blood pounding in his ears. "Stay calm. You can do it. Just like you did before."
Right. Just like before. He could do it again. He flicked his feet a few times and managed to catch the rope just as his hand started to slip. He quickly wrapped it around his foot and heaved a sigh of relief when he could finally rest on it.
The crowd started cheering again and even Coach joined them with an atta boy! Echo decided he'd proven enough. He had done it. He had climbed the rope, with one arm, all by himself. It was time to get down now.
"Slowly push your legs down and lower your hand," Coach guided him down. Echo followed the directions a few times until he was back in reach of Coach's waiting arms. He let the man take hold of his sides once more and carry him back down, safe on the ground.
All of his classmates rushed toward him, but of course his brothers got there first. Wrecker covered him in a massive hug, lifting him up and jumping a little. Hunter and Tech and Crosshair all grasped various parts of him and jumped for joy as well.
Echo didn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.
- - -
Fifteen years old
"So... you like anyone?"
Rex bounced the basketball over and Echo scooped it up. He dribbled it a few times before twisting it in his hand and sending it toward the hoop. It bounced against the backboard and fell through the net.
"Not really," he confessed as his friend grabbed the ball and looked for a new spot to throw from. "You?"
"Amber's kinda cute. From home room."
Echo nodded and watched as Rex went for a layup.
"I think Riyo likes you," Rex grinned as he dribbled the ball back.
Echo's eyes went wide. "Really?"
"Yeah. She always says hi to you."
"She's just being nice."
"No, she likes you."
Echo shook his head as he took the ball and lined up another shot.
"What, you don't like her back? She's kinda cute."
"Are you going to say that about every girl?"
Rex shrugged. "Just the cute ones."
"You mean the kinda cute ones?"
Rex rolled his eyes and chased after the ball. Echo hadn't made the shot, it had bounced off the rim and out into the street. Rex caught it and jogged back over.
"Speaking of... does your sister still like Hunter?"
Rex sighed dramatically. "No, there's some new boy at her school she likes now. Thank god. That was getting old."
Echo laughed. "Yeah. Hunter was worried she'd start stalking him once she got to high school next year."
"Oh hey, I almost forgot!" Rex had been aiming but brought the ball back down as he remembered. "You know my friend Luke? He invited some friends to go camping with him and his dad once summer break starts. He said I could bring someone. A lot of his friends are older than me so I won't know a lot of people. You wanna come?"
Echo lit up at the idea. He'd never gone camping before. "Yeah! That'd be so cool. I'll have to ask my mom of course."
"Of course." Rex hesitated as he seemed to think of something else. "Um... I mean, I guess I could ask if it'd be okay for your brothers to come, too."
Echo felt his face heating up. He knew it would be rude for Rex to intrude on Luke’s trip with five extra friends, not just one. And besides, Echo knew Rex wasn't really friends with all of them. He mainly just hung out with him. And sometimes Hunter would join, but they never did anything just the two of them.
But Echo also knew that his brothers, Hunter especially, would freak out if he went on a trip like this without them. They had a few different things after-school, like his debate team and all of Tech's random hobbies. But they all played soccer. They spent their lunches together and their weekends and their summers. Everything they did, they did together. This would be the first time Echo did anything without them. And honestly? He kinda liked the idea.
"No, it's okay," he reassured Rex. "They don't have come."
"You sure?" Rex looked skeptical.
"Yeah. They'll be fine without me."
He wasn't really sure if that'd be true, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to do this. His own thing. With his own friend. Maybe Mom could help the others find their own things...
- - -
Twenty years old
"Hey, Hunter."
Echo gave an apologetic smile to his friends as he excused himself to take his brother's call.
"I want a dog."
Echo frowned while he looked for a quiet place outside the cafe to talk. "What?"
"A dog."
"No I heard that part. What do you mean you want a dog?"
"I mean I think it'd be really cool to have a dog."
Echo moved the phone away so he could sigh privately.
"And... why are you calling me about this?"
"What do you think? Should I do it?"
Echo scoffed. "I think you should do whatever you want and stop interrupting my day with pointless phone calls."
He cringed at his own scolding tone but it was hard not to get sassy with Hunter these days. His brother seemed to be getting needier the further into their adult lives they got.
"I just wanted your opinion, sheesh." He could tell Hunter was trying to play it off but was likely stung by his words.
"You could've texted," Echo tried to keep his tone more even.
"Yeah, well, I miss talking to you." Silence. Echo didn't have anything to say to that. "It's been a while."
This time Echo let his sigh be heard in the phone. "You could've gone on that cabin trip Mom put together in February. You all canceled last minute."
"Is she upset?" Hunter sounded ashamed.
Echo shrugged even though he knew Hunter couldn't see. "Hard to tell with her. You know how it is. Maybe you should call her... I'm sure she'd love to talk to you about dogs."
"I just, I feel bad..."
"Hunter. Call Mom. Get the dog. I'll... talk to you later. I promise."
They tied off the call and Echo returned inside. He felt annoyed by Hunter's call, which then made him feel guilty, which then made him annoyed again.
But then he caught sight of his table of friends... Rex at the head, listening so respectfully to what everyone had to say. Fives, with his arm comfortably slung over the back of Ahsoka's seat, their combined laughter heard across the cafe. Howzer, Fireball, and Nemec, newer friends that felt like they'd been in his life forever. And Riyo, who felt like someone he was just getting to know despite actually having been around for a while, with all the unexpectedly pleasant ways she could make him blush.
He let go of those conflicting feelings about his family, his shoulders lowering as the tension released. He wasn't sure what his future held; that was actually what they were all trying to figure out today. Jobs, internships, post-grad plans. The Peace Corps was the leading idea but they were researching a few others, seeing what they could collectively do to make the world a better place. And that was what made him smile now. The future, and his family, would take care of themselves. Right now, he and his friends would take care of everything else.
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Fives wakes up on New Year's Day with no recollection of the night before. Shenanigans ensue as he goes on a quest to piece together what exactly he and his brothers got up to on New Year's Eve.
< Previous Part
Part Four - 12:00 PM
Fives x fem!S/O | 2.5k words
Content: drunkenness, hangovers and related symptoms, memory loss, sexual references, cursing
Note: Well, it only took me 11 weeks to write about the events of one morning 😅 This story was fun. I enjoyed putting these guys in silly situations. And giving Fives a sappy/happy ending, of course.
Fives had a problem. A huge one.
It had taken them what was left the hour to make it this far... getting over to the club, trying to convince the owner to let them look at security footage, a man who wanted nothing to do with clones after the chaos they'd inflicted at his "respectable business," finally watching the footage only to learn that Fives had, in fact, stolen an armful of helmets from Rex, Jesse, and a few others, having snuck back seemingly around the time he should've been with Tup getting tatted, and then promptly leaving the bar again with no further clues as to his direction or drunken objective... and now they were at the end.
The end of his career.
The end of his life, probably.
"And the clock strikes twelve," Faith muttered beside him with a smirk. When he only looked back at her with a blank expression, she frowned. "You know, the story of the servant at the ball? Clock strikes twelve and the magic disappears?"
Fives only lowered his shoulders further and turned away. He looked up at the towering skyscrapers, the buzzing traffic, the millions upon millions of people who were all probably having a wonderful first day of the new year, or at the very least a normal one.
"You know, I always thought if I couldn't have a heroic death, then I'd at least want a quick one. Blaster to the head. Step on a mine. Boom. No fear. Just gone."
"You're quite the downer, aren't you," Faith commented.
"You really think I should be happy right now?" he whirled back around. He wasn't angry, but there was a tightening frustration, a gnawing sort of hopelessness that he didn't like. He'd been carrying it around all day, but he'd also naively believed it would go away. That he'd get out of this situation like he had with any other - with skill, determination, and a bit of luck. Now those key parts of himself had failed and he had nothing else left to lean on.
"No," Faith's voice softened. "But..."
"But what? There's a bright side? A silver lining? No. No, it's noon. I'd have to haul ass to the ship, sweet talk my way out of tardy discipline, hope the others found Dogma and made it back, and even then, I still wouldn't have their helmets. It's all kriffing pointless."
"Well..." Faith's eyes cast about, trying to find that magic solution. This wasn't a bedtime story, time didn't have to take away their magic. "Your captain can get another helmet, right? I mean, aren't there replacements for this sort of thing?"
Fives swallowed a bitter lump in his throat. "Yeah. Of course. Helmets are replaceable. Just like us."
He stormed off down the street, waving for a cab. A part of him wanted to start running and never stop, but he was trained better than to be a coward. If he was going to be decommissioned, then he would show up and be decommissioned. It was the only thing left to do.
"No, no, no, Fives!" He could hear Faith following him. "Fives, I didn't mean it like that!"
He stopped abruptly just as a cab flew up. He held up a finger to the droid and turned back to Faith. "Do you know why I'm so upset that I can't remember last night?"
Her eyes were wide and pleading. She shook her head.
"Because I don't have very many nights to begin with. My life is just a blip. People like you? You'll live on and on and on. And maybe decades from now you'll remember that one night you went to a crazy New Year's Eve party. But you won't remember our names. You won't remember who got the tattoo and who puked next to you in the cab. You'll have so many more new years to keep track of. I wanted last night to be special. That's the cruel irony of it. I tried so hard to have a good time... so hard to make it memorable, and now...."
Fives trailed off and ran a hand through his hair with a dark laugh.
"Whatever. Thanks for your help. And your company. I'll remember you. The coolest girl I've ever known." He met her eyes and gave a sad smile. "Bye, Faith."
Faith watched, speechless, as he clambered into the speeder cab and flew off.
She had never met anyone like Fives. His confidence came easily, his charms were unabashed. And yet, the whole night she had seen him, even through inebriation, put in real, genuine effort. He'd cared for his friends. He really had tried to make the night special. She supposed that was why she'd let him lead her out into the hallway at midnight for a kiss. He'd been annoyingly insistent, but also sweetly earnest, and after she'd caved and let his whiskey-flavored lips peck hers, he'd looked so insanely happy.
Her heart clenched at the thought. She had no clue about how the clone army worked, clearly. She felt awful that her question about replacing helmets had been taken that way. But further, she felt bad that she hadn't taken the stakes as seriously as she should have. She'd thought they were being overdramatic, not that actual decommissioning, or death, or whatever Fives was sighing about, was possible.
She looked up and down the street, unsure where to go or what to do next. Was this really it? A whole night and a whole morning filled with adventure now over? Ending with a few obnoxious but innocent clones getting in trouble?
She kept turning around, eventually looking down the side-alley toward the back patio area of the bar. She cocked her head curiously, and before she realized, her feet were leading her back there. It was a large enough area for several full-grown trees. A mini-oasis hidden within the concrete and steel towers of Coruscant. A protocol droid was working on the opposite side from her, slowly collecting trash still littered all about.
One of these trees had been one Fives had left that other clone in. She didn't recall Fives talking about him last night. He hadn't said anything while they were in the club dancing and drinking. He had snuck away from Tup's traumatic tattoo experience to come back here and steal helmets, but had shown up at her place without them. He hadn't said anything then, either.
She walked toward the first tree and looked up, trying to get in Fives's head. She knew there was no making sense of a drunk mind, but these clones had a fast metabolism, right? That tree clone had mentioned something about sobering up and jumping down in a fairly quick timeframe. What if Fives had had some wits about him when he'd come back to the bar?
What if Fives had remembered his friend was still in a tree and came to get him? What if it hadn't been about his captain's helmet, but about his friend's? And if parts of his brain were still a little fuzzy, maybe he'd grabbed a bunch of helmets just to make sure he got the right one?
Faith looked out across the patio, scanning the trees. One, in the far corner, had bushes surrounding it. Part of a bush looked damaged, like someone had fallen on it. She rushed over and almost melted with relief.
There, resting between the bushes and the tree trunk, were four perfectly fine GAR helmets.
"Hey droid!" she called out. "You got a commlink I can borrow?"
...
Fives's feet felt like lead as he walked across the platform. Rex stood with the entire company lined up behind him, in front of the ship. Tup, Dogma, and Hardcase, he noted sourly, were part of the lineup. They looked disapproving, pissed, and tickled pink, respectively.
Though he knew humor would absolutely not help the situation, he couldn't help but make a halfhearted comment. "I uh, see you found my helmet, sir."
Rex held Fives's helmet in front of him. His hands subtly tensed around the plastoid.
"And you don't have mine, trooper," Rex replied in the exact tone Fives knew he would. Curt and disappointed.
Fives shook his head.
"Or Jesse's. Or Vaughn's. Or Hawk's."
Fives gulped. He forced himself not to look over at the brothers in question, even though it meant continuing to hold Rex's cutting stare.
"No, sir."
He held his head high, ready to take the punishment he rightly deserved. Rex seemed to square up as well and Fives briefly wondered if the Captain was maybe getting a kick out of this. Rex was a caring guy, but the amount of grief the unit gave him with their shenanigans, surely he'd be relieved, if not a little pleased, that one of them finally got his comeuppance.
And then Rex's shoulders relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. He jerked his head to the side just as Fives started to frown in bewilderment.
"You're lucky you've got friends looking out for you. Your day could've turned out much worse."
Fives, clueless, looked in the direction Rex had indicated. There, at the end of the platform, almost blending into the stacks of ammunitions crates, was Faith and her redheaded friend. And, perhaps only slightly more importantly, were the four missing helmets lined up neatly on a nearby crate. Fives was torn between jumping for joy, collapsing in a pile of tears, tackling the girl in a hug, tackling Rex in a hug, and about a dozen other emotional actions. Though apparently, all he could actually get his body to do was stare completely slack-jawed.
"Close your mouth, soldier, you'll catch a fly," Rex's now playful voice snapped him out of his reverie.
The Captain held out Fives's helmet to him, but then stepped close and brought his tone back into the low and serious range.
"And don't you ever pull a stunt like that again. One more toe out of line and I will not hesitate to assign you fresher duty. Understood?"
"No. No, I mean, yes. Yes, sir! Understood, sir. Not a single toe. Thank you. Thank you, sir!"
It was like life had been breathed back into him. He could feel a bubbling sort of energy clawing its way out from what was a twisting pit in his stomach just moments ago. He could barely hold onto his helmet as Rex left it in his hands and signaled to the company.
"Takeoff in five! We've kept the General waiting long enough!"
As soldiers broke formation and scattered to their positions, Fives rushed over to Faith. He had every intention of swooping her up and spinning her around, holo-romance style, but he pulled up just shy of reaching her, suddenly feeling shy. She calmly walked the rest of the way to meet him. Behind her, her friend leapt into Hardcase's arms. Tup met his eyes and shook his head at him while Dogma glared daggers through bloodshot eyes. Fives gave them a pathetic wave. He'd have to deal with them later. He turned back toward Faith.
"Hooow..." he started to formulate the question and then realized that was it. That was the question. "How?"
She shrugged. "You don't call me the coolest girl you've ever known for nothing."
Fives must have looked as dumb as he felt because she laughed and quickly dropped the act.
"I found them by the tree you left your friend in. I think you went back for him but he'd already left by then."
He shook his head, incredulous. He didn't remember, but her words felt right. He knew he wouldn't have abandoned Jesse. It just maybe took him a bit longer to come back around. He had been drunk, after all.
"And how..." he gestured at her vaguely and thankfully she seemed to understand the thoughts he still couldn't quite get into words.
"Every cabbie takes the C-12 thoroughfare to the city center," she explained. "Only we locals know it's faster to take the C-16."
"I... don't know what to say..."
There was a whistle. Fives continued shaking his head as he glanced over and saw Hardcase was tapping his wrist to indicate it was time to move. As if he didn't have so many other emotions to sort through right now... relief, joy, amusement... now he had to say goodbye. He tightened his grip on his helmet. He'd never had to say goodbye to a friend before.
Faith took a few steps closer.
"You should probably say thank you."
Fives relaxed his grip. "Thank you."
"And you should also say you're sorry for trashing my place and eating my food and making me watch you puke."
Fives nodded his head. "I'm sorry."
"And... you should say please."
Fives quirked his eyebrow. "Huh?"
Faith took another step in and raised up on her toes, planting a soft kiss on his surprised lips.
"Whaaa... what was that for?" Fives couldn't help but giggle at the unexpected gesture. His emotions were all over the place.
"You don't remember our first kiss, so you get a re-do. Midnight, noon, same thing." She blushed as his brain short circuited. He really couldn't take any more surprises.
The launch sirens started sounding off, jarring just enough sense back into him to not totally fumble the moment. He grabbed Faith's arm before she could run off and leaned in close so she could hear.
"I'm not sure if Rex will let this go by next year but... maybe, if I can swing it... maybe I could see you next New Year's Eve?"
He could almost picture it, just like a holo-film. Faith, waiting in the designated spot, nervously looking at her watch and wondering if he'd forgotten after all those months. But then, just when she fears it wasn't meant to be, he rounds the corner. He'll look more mature, and be way more ripped, of course. And that pretty face of hers will light up at seeing him, the happiest she's ever been...
"Or maybe sooner?"
Fives blinked out of his daydream. Her pretty face was smiling at him now. There was a calm assuredness to her that had sucked him in right from the beginning - the real beginning. The last moment he could remember before pounding back that first beer. Her friends surrounded the place with energy and noise, while her happiness seemed to be grounded in something much more real. He'd locked eyes with her through the crowd and had suddenly felt like everything was okay. No, he hadn't felt it, he'd believed it.
"I don't want to forget you, Fives," she said, taking his hand from her arm and giving it a squeeze.
He squeezed back. "You won't. I have faith."
* * *
(5 seconds later)
Faith rolled her eyes and let go of his hand.
"Okay, lunkhead, get out of here already. All that sweet talking I did to save your ass? Don't fuck it up."
Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear, @theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565, @msmeredithrose
Clone Bois Tag: @kaijusplotch, @rebel-finn, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @nekotaetae, @severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @nahoney22, @dangraccoon, @lulalovez, @aconstructofamind, @skellymom, @the-mom-friend-dot-com, @tardisgirl420 What Happened Last Night Tag: @griffedeloup
Clone x Reader Prompt-a-thon 2025 | @cloneficgiftexchange
Rex x reader | 900 words
Content: domesticity, some angst, no dialogue
Prompt: (Spring) Rex worries a flower might die because it isn't blooming when the others do.
Note: Happy First Day of Spring! 🌸 I saw this prompt and couldn't help but think of a line from Mulan that always get me in the feels. There's something so sweet about Rex looking after a garden, and so comforting knowing that hardship can sometimes make us stronger
You'd gifted him the seeds for Life Day. He had been surprised to receive a gift, perplexed at what was inside. A tiny, weightless bag, nothing more than paper it seemed. But several tiny bumps could be felt as he gingerly ran his thumb across and his smile widened. He'd always been amazed by your home garden. He'd watch you water the flowers, would help you pick the vegetables. You'd tell him all about the plants and how to care for them and he'd listen intently but would never interfere. It was your space. Now, he'd be able to have a corner of his own.
You'd helped him germinate the seeds after the new year. He had carefully followed your instructions for potting, his brow furrowed with the utmost of concentration as he delicately covered each cell of seeds with a thin layer of soil. He had fiddled with the pots, shifting their position on the ledge by mere fractions of inches, to position them just right. He had damn near spent his entire leave of absence peeking at them, inspecting them, knowing nothing would happen so early but still being too fascinated to keep away.
You'd looked after his seedlings while he was on duty. Of course you would've taken care of them anyway, but he'd still insisted on sending you reminders. Is the temperature still right? Is the soil still moist? It's been two weeks, are they sprouting yet? You'd waited for the little green leaves to really start showing before you sent him a photo. The 50 exclamation marks in response had left none of his excitement to the imagination. You'd demanded he focus on his mission so he could come home alive and see them for himself.
You'd set aside a flower bed for him a week before the final frost. You'd guided him through the process of transplanting his precious babies into their new home and tried not to tease him for it. He'd been a little ridiculous, but also endearing, you supposed, as he fussed over their care. It was only when you'd grumbled after catching him whispering to them early in the morning did he ease up and start paying you more attention instead.
You'd left the garden gate open for him in the warmth of spring. You yourself had been tending your own plants and were okay letting him rush to see his blooming flowers before greeting you. His face had predictably lit up in awe and joy as he crouched by them, brushing his gloved fingers lightly along the petals. All the effort, all the worry and fuss, had finally produced three vibrant, beautiful flowering plants. And then his smile had become a frown as he discovered the one bulb that hadn't yet opened. You'd assured him some flowers took more time than others, but his concern only grew with each continually dormant day.
You'd whispered a prayer to his flower when summer came. Crept outside in the middle of the night, your stomach twisting with worry. He was supposed to have checked in days ago. No one had given you answers on his battalion's status. And to make it worse, each one of his flowers had been losing their petals, withering in the sudden heat no matter what you did to protect them. You'd laid yourself in the dirt next to the fallen petals and cradled the one flower that remained. It'd been the last to bloom - he'd left before it'd opened - and it still had some growing to do. You'd spoken to it through tears and a heavy heart, promising that if it could hold on, you could, too.
You'd given up on the garden long ago. Weeks of radio silence and heat waves had gone by and you'd had no choice to but to leave it behind. You'd gone parsecs away, searching for the one thing you couldn't give up on. You'd willed yourself to believe that of all the fragile living things, he would be the one that would survive such a harsh, unforgiving world. And if he was still out there, you'd find him. You'd get him back and you'd care for him and you'd never let him go. And so you'd searched and searched and searched... You'd hoped and fought and prayed. And against all the odds, you finally got him back into your arms. Safe. Alive. Well.
He named the flower after you upon his return. You felt sad but still went out with him to assess the damage. The whole garden was a sea of brown, wilted stems and crumpled leaves and dirt as hard as rock. But standing above it all, in the humble little corner you'd so generously given him, as if untouched by any troubles, was his flower - the flower. The one that had been so slow to bloom that he'd been worried it would simply die off. Now its petals were bright, vivid, beautiful. He didn't rush to it this time, instead staying in the shade by your side. You wrapped your arms around him and held him close as he whispered his love to you.
The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all.
A peek into Hunter's life on March 3rd through the years.
Part of my AU "The Batch Family" [Collection Masterlist]
Word count: 4k | Batch ages: Multiple
Note: I really liked the format with Beth's stories in February, so I'll be continuing it with each of the boys, starting with Hunter! We've got some much stronger themes emerging with this kid's life. 💚
18 months old
"Pbbbbbt. Ppbbt."
Hunter blew a continuous string of raspberries as his little feet padded against the sidewalk. His eyes were focused on some unknown point in front of him as he continued to propel himself forward. He didn't know where he was going, to be honest, he just wanted to go.
Go, go, go.
But then every few steps, his feet would stop. He'd turn around to look back at his family, several feet behind him. His mom and his grandma, pushing strollers full of his brothers. He'd giggle a little when they gave him a wave and he'd wave back. And then he'd turn around and keep going.
"Ppbbt. Pbbbtt. Pbbb-"
Hunter gasped as his knees suddenly slammed against the pavement, his hands coming out just in time to keep his face from hitting the ground. He could hear his mom crying out his name, though he couldn't see the hand his grandma had laid on her arm, the knowing look she'd given to prevent her from rushing straight to him. Instead, he saw the cracks in the pavement below him, snaking beneath his knees and hands. Tiny green leaves poked out from them. He ran a finger over them curiously. They were so soft.
He let himself lean to the side until he was sitting down. He held out one of his hands, bright pink from his fall. They only hurt a little bit. With his other hand, he picked a leaf from the crack and set it into into his palm. One by one, he picked more, until he had a whole family of them.
"You okay, hun? Are you hurt?"
His mom finally reached him with Grandma and the strollers. She set down Echo, who she'd been holding on her hip, and knelt next to him.
"Look!" Hunter said, holding up one of the leaves for her to see. Her eyes were busy looking him up and down for injuries, so Echo reached out his one hand and took the leaf.
"Green!" Echo said, holding the leaf out for everyone to see.
Their mom sighed but with a smile. Her boy was alright. "That's right, green."
"Here," said Hunter, holding out another leaf for her. This time, she took it.
"Gween! Gween!" In the stroller next to them, Wrecker opened and closed his pudgy hands over and over.
Hunter closed his fist around the leaves he'd picked and got himself up. He wiped at his pants, like his mom had taught him whenever he got off the ground. He went over to Wrecker and put a leaf in his hand, and then he gave one to Crosshair in the stroller behind him, and then another to Tech, and another to Grandma.
And then off he went again.
Echo, who'd been admiring his leaf, saw his brother toddle past him and let out a delighted giggle before following. Wrecker then started crying to be let out, and so of course Tech and Crosshair had to be released from their stroller prisons as well. They each handed off their leaves to Mom to look after before they took off in pursuit of Hunter.
Beth watched the little boy with the shaggy hair, leading a train of squealing brothers behind, puttering away in their own little, happy worlds. She looked down at the leaves in her hand. Such budding, small things. Plucked from cracks and entrusted to her care. And then she looked up at her own mom standing beside her, a woman she'd spent her whole life trying to run away from.
"Go on," her mom said with a smile.
Hunter slowed his running to look behind him again. He laughed as he saw Mom running after them, her hands outstretched to grab ahold of theirs. Echo and Crosshair latched on.
"Let's go!" she called out with a smile.
Hunter kept laughing as he turned around and ran.
"Go, go, go!"
- - -
Six years old
"I know what to do!"
Raindrops trickled down the windows as four young boys looked out of them miserably. They'd eagerly dressed themselves in their raincoats and boots, only to be told by Mom that the yard was too muddy and she didn't want them catching a cold. Of course, the mud had been the reason they'd wanted to go out in the first place. So now their whole day was ruined.
But one boy hadn't skipped a beat. Hunter'd quickly shed his coat and kicked off his boots and was now standing confidently in the living room with a new plan. His brothers slowly tore themselves away from their longing stares out the window and waited curiously to hear more.
"Quick!" he shouted as soon as he had their attention. "Get off the floor! It's lava!"
Hunter ran to the couch and jumped on it.
Wrecker immediately followed. Crosshair took his shoes off first and then joined them.
"We're not supposed to climb on the furniture," Echo said with a frown.
Tech wavered beside him for a moment and then ran after the others, too.
"Echo! Quick!" Hunter made a hurrying motion with his hand. "You have to get to safety!"
"Yeah! Come on Echo!" Wrecker called.
"Hurry! Hurry!" Crosshair joined in.
"The chair!" Hunter pointed to the recliner in the corner closest to Echo. "It's the only way!"
Echo sat down on the recliner and worked on getting his boots off.
"We can't leave a man behind," said Hunter, turning to his brothers solemnly. "We have to save Echo."
"We can't reach him. He's too far!" said Tech, who stepped over onto the coffee table and reached a hand out in demonstration. There was too much floor between the table and the chair.
"What's this about?" Mom came from the hall, having taken a quick bathroom break before working on dinner. Three boys standing on the couch and one on the table. Though it wasn't the wildest scene she'd ever walked in on, Hunter knew he had to be quick to explain before she got mad.
"The floor is lava!" said Hunter.
"Lava!" Wrecker bounced on a couch cushion.
Mom looked over at Echo, seated quietly away from them.
"I wanna watch a movie," he pouted.
"Echo!" Hunter called back. He tested the limits a bit and joined Tech on the table. "You have to play with us. Come on!"
Surprisingly, Mom gave them a smile. "You boys can watch a movie. If you're all on the couch."
Hunter's face lit up, as did Echo's, only the latter didn't quite catch her meaning. He slid off the recliner and was immediately met with a chorus of shouts from his brothers.
"Echo, no!"
"You'll burn!"
"Go back! Go back!"
"You're in the lava!"
Mom rushed over and picked him up, setting the confused young boy back on the recliner.
"You can't touch the floor, darling. You'll have to find another way!"
Echo scowled back. "But you're on the floor."
"Mom is safe," said Hunter. "She's invincible to lava."
"That's right," Mom nodded along. "I defeated the lava monster so I can walk right through it."
As she left toward the kitchen, she stopped to ruffle Hunter's hair and whisper in his ear, "Don't let anybody get hurt."
He nodded at her with his best impression of a serious face, and then turned excitedly back to his brothers.
"Don't worry Echo. We'll save you!"
"I'll jump!" said Wrecker, joining them on the coffee table.
"No. He needs something to step on," said Tech.
"The pillows!" said Crosshair, still on the couch. He bounded across, collecting all the couch pillows. He handed the first over to Hunter, who tossed it onto the ground below and jumped onto it. One by one, they created a chain and passed more pillows down the line. Hunter placed each one just far enough in front that he had to actually jump to it. It was more fun that way.
"Take my hand Echo!" he said from the third pillow. He set a fourth down right next to it so Echo could finally stand up from the recliner. His brother didn't seem too thrilled to hold hands, but he still extended his one arm out and Hunter eagerly took it.
"Be careful! These pillows are hard to stand on."
"It's because they're sinking into the lava!" said Echo with a smile. "We have to hurry!"
He seemed to be having fun now. Hunter tugged him along, hopping from one pillow to the next and with only one wobbly close call. Wrecker helped them get back on the coffee table and then they all plopped onto the couch in a burst of giggles.
"We made it!
"Phew! That was close!"
"Mom! We made it!"
"Good job! I'll put a movie on, just give me one sec."
Hunter didn't want their lava adventure to end so soon. He sat up and tried to think quickly.
"Wait. We can't watch a movie without our jammies on."
"And our slippers!" agreed Wrecker.
Hunter stood back up and pointed toward the hallway. "We gotta get to our bedrooms. Come on!"
The idea of a movie all but disappeared from their minds as they spent the rest of the afternoon puzzling out how to get across all of the hallway floor with limited pillows. And once they had, and had dressed in their jammies and slippers, they then had to make it back to the kitchen for dinner. And then it was another journey across the house to get to the bathroom to brush their teeth. And by then, it was bedtime.
Hunter skipped across the trail of stuffed animals and leapt onto his bed with a laugh. Mom came over to kiss his head and whispered to him again. "Thank you for staying safe."
Hunter pulled her into a hug and whispered back in her ear. "Best rainy day ever!"
- - -
Eleven years old
"It's not fair!"
Hunter huffed at his brother's interruption. They were going to film their own action movie and he'd been in the middle of explaining what they were going to do for the next scene when Crosshair had abruptly stood up.
"Cross, for the millionth time, we're not doing a slo-mo fight."
Crosshair had his arms crossed and was glaring daggers back at Hunter.
"You don't want to do any of my ideas."
"Yeah, 'cause they suck."
Hunter could've been nice. He had been nice. All year, as they'd finished building this tree fort and making new friends at school and practicing soccer and now working on this newest idea of making a home movie... Hunter had ignored the whining and teasing and complaining from all of them. But Crosshair's jabs in particular had been getting harder to ignore. He wasn't going to be nice about it anymore.
"Your ideas suck," Crosshair snapped back. "This whole movie sucks. It's a stupid idea for stupid children."
He threw his notebook down onto the treehouse floor and stormed away, having to duck on his way through the door.
"That wasn't very nice," said Wrecker.
Hunter wasn't sure if he meant him or Crosshair, but he didn't really care to find out. He scowled as he watched Crosshair storm across the lawn and go inside the house. He was probably crying to Mom again. He was acting like a stupid child.
"His ideas don't suck, Hunter," said Echo in a small voice.
Hunter's eyes snapped over to his. Echo looked scared that'd he'd spoken up at first, but then swallowed and tried to shrug it off.
"I mean, I don't think they suck."
"Are you joking? A slo-mo fight? That's so lame."
"The bike chase scene is lame," muttered Tech.
Hunter looked down at Tech, criss-cross-applesauce on the floor with a notebook full of ideas in his lap. Ideas they'd all had, they all liked. Hunter was starting to get upset.
"What do you mean? We practiced that all day yesterday and now you think it's lame?"
Tech shrugged.
"What about the rest of the movie? Do you think the whole thing is lame?"
"I like the movie!" said Wrecker.
Echo and Tech stayed silent.
Hunter huffed again.
"It's just... " Echo tried to speak up again. "We've been doing this for a while now and it's getting kind of boring."
"Yeah," Wrecker nodded.
"What? Wreck, you just said you liked it!"
"I do," he agreed.
Hunter's fists clenched. They were all starting to get annoying now. Changing their minds, pretending to go along with things.
"Come on. We're almost done. We can't quit now. And Mom promised to edit it for us. We just need a few more scenes."
Echo gave another shrug. "Sorry Hunter."
He left the treehouse, and left Hunter speechless. Since when did Echo quit? It was hard to convince him to start something, but once he did, he was in it to the end.
Hunter looked over at Tech, who'd stood up and was looking regretfully at the list of ideas in his notebook. After a moment, he looked back up at Hunter.
"Maybe we just take a break?" he offered before following Echo out.
Wrecker shifted between his feet as Hunter looked at him expectantly, too. "I do really like the movie," he said, though refusing to meet his brother's eye. "But if everyone else is taking a break...."
And so then Hunter was left alone in the tree fort. He felt a surge of panic rising in his chest. He didn't like it when his brothers split up and did different things. He wanted them to finish this idea together. But he was also too proud to beg them to do it. He shook his head, clenching his fists tighter.
This was all Crosshair's fault.
- - -
Sixteen years old
"Hey, hun," came his mother's voice, proceeded by the usual hand in his hair.
"Hey, Mom."
Hunter tried to subtly shift his laptop screen away so she wouldn't see the search he had up of fun things to do in town, for the hooky day he was planning later in the month. Though as he looked up at her, he realized he didn't have to worry. His mom shuffled her feet through the dark kitchen, her shoulders pulled down in exhaustion. She dropped her purse in the seat next to him at the table and worked on getting a cup of tea brewing.
"You okay?" he asked, closing the laptop completely. The only light now came from a street lamp outside, but he was still able to see her attempt at a smile as she leaned against the counter to face him.
"Just a long day."
"You've had a lot of late nights this week," he pointed out, trying not to let his concern show too much. She hated when they fussed over her.
"Eh. You know how it is. Last month in the quarter and all of a sudden people care about getting things done. Don't you ever work..."
"...in IT, we know," he drawled. "Well, maybe not Tech."
"Tech is going to run the world someday, he can do whatever he likes in the meantime," she laughed.
Hunter had to agree with that. They were only juniors and already Tech had college credits under his belt.
The kettle started whistling. He watched as his mom went through her ritual of pouring the water, plopping in the tea bag, and squeezing in a bit of honey. She brought her mug over and sat across from him, cupping her hands around the ceramic and staring through the darkness at him with a relaxed look on her face.
"What's on your mind, hun?"
Hunter shrugged awkwardly. "I don't know. Just... thinking about the future."
She hummed. "The future. I know you kids don't like hearing what adults have to say about these things, but if you'll indulge me...?"
Hunter motioned for her to continue. He didn't like getting advice, it all ended up sounding the same, but he'd always at least hear his mom out if nothing else.
"The future seems scary when you're young. There's so much of it, and if you don't know what you want, it seems like a lot of time to have to fill. But at some point, I don't know when... for me it was probably when your voices started cracking... but you hit this point where you start to realize there really isn't a lot of time left in the future. That's when things really start to feel scary. And you think back to all those years you spent worrying and waiting for the perfect time or the perfect idea, and you wish you'd just gone for it."
Hunter nodded along, though secretly he wasn't taking too much of it to heart. He wasn't at that point in life and it really didn't sound like it was going to be any worse than the point he was at right now, where everyone suddenly seemed to have different interests and were looking into different colleges and didn't even have schedules that lined up for family dinners anymore.
But as easily as Mom had sensed some heavy thoughts on his mind did she also sense he needed a different resolution to the conversation.
"But you know something else? You don't have to worry about any of that."
Hunter's ears perked up.
"You've never run out of ideas to fill your time. Any time life's knocked you down, you've found ways to make the most of it."
He liked the sound of that. Making the most of it. Like he was trying to do with this hooky day he was planning. Finding a way to get them all together when everything else was pulling them apart. Maybe he could find other ways to keep things in tact.
"Thanks, Mom," he smiled.
- - -
Twenty-one years old
"Down, girl."
Hunter gently pressed against the dog's muzzle to get her off the couch. Batcher whined a bit but soon settled by her owner's feet instead. Hunter barely noticed as he scrolled and scrolled on his phone.
Another night staying in. Studying done, no plans, roommates out drinking, brothers off living their own lives. Hunter sighed as another hour went by and he finally tossed his phone aside in frustration. He leaned his head back, resting it along the back of the couch, and stared through the dim lights of his thrifted lamps up at the ceiling. A million thoughts vied for his attention - like how he was going to tell his mom about the extra semester he'd have to take before graduating, or how much money he'd need to scrounge to fix his car's A/C before the summer, or whether he should try apologizing to Jules again... But no one thought seemed to be able to take hold long enough, not before another barged in and tied up his stomach in more anxious knots.
Eventually he had to push himself off the couch and start pacing. Batcher quirked her head and watched as he took laps around the small living area. She used to follow him, thinking something fun was happening, but now knew better and stayed in her spot by the couch.
He made it around almost a dozen times, picking up random objects to fiddle with and then deposit elsewhere, a habit he drove himself crazy with, before the sudden knock came at the door. Batcher was hot on his heels as he went to open it.
"Cross," he stated in shock at finding his usually uncommunicative brother on the threshold of his apartment.
Batcher was more welcoming. She barreled past Hunter's legs and nuzzled against Crosshair's. He let out a low chuckle and knelt to give her a few head scratches.
"Well. You gonna let me in or what?" he eventually asked.
Hunter shook himself and opened the door wider.
"Didn't know you even knew where I lived," was all he managed to say as his brother entered. He suddenly felt self-conscious as Crosshair scanned the dingy apartment and all its messes.
"Did you not want me to know?" Crosshair quirked an eyebrow but otherwise seemed nonchalant.
"No. It's just... you know... been a while since I've seen you."
Crosshair didn't respond, only continued looking about. He wandered over to the IKEA bookshelf in the corner, the one piece of furniture Hunter hadn't found in a dumpster and had bought with actual money. He picked up a framed photo of the five of them throwing their high school graduation caps. Crosshair shook his head and set it back down.
"Well?"
"Well... what?" Hunter asked. He had shut the front door but was still standing awkwardly by it. He may need an escape plan, if this unexpected visit proved as tumultuous as the last time they'd seen each other.
"What're you up to? Friday night. You waiting for a date or something?"
"No," Hunter frowned at the reminder of the "it's complicated" status of him and Jules.
"Early plans tomorrow? Already bedtime?"
"No..."
"So you're just sitting around in the dark doing nothing?"
At first, Hunter couldn't tell if Crosshair was trying to tease or if he was genuinely concerned. But then he clocked the telltale flex of his hand, the one that'd nearly been crushed in that accident. Crosshair always flexed it when he was nervous, which was usually only in situations when he felt emotionally vulnerable. Hunter's eyes narrowed.
"Who sent you? Echo?"
Crosshair let out a long-suffering sigh.
"Mom?"
"No one sent me," he said. "Mom mentioned she hadn't heard from you since the New Year. Wrecker said you've been down in the dumps. Echo filled me in on your grade situation. Tech gave me your address. I put it all together and came on my own."
Hunter only blinked, causing him to sigh again.
"Look, I know we haven't always seen eye to eye. But out of all of them, I know you the best. And... you know me." He said the last part quieter, flexing his hand again. "That's why we hurt each other. Because we know what the other is saying is true."
Hunter folded his arms and walked away from the door.
"And so you came here to... what? Rub it all in again? You made it very clear at Christmas how pathetic my life is now. I really don't need to hear it again."
Crosshair's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. His eyes flitted away and for a moment, Hunter feared he might actually cry.
"I'm sorry I came at you like that, but I meant what I said. You don't have anything to do. That's your problem. School has never been enough for you. You need plans. Places to go. People to boss around. You should have never stayed here with us."
Hunter couldn't help but open his mouth to protest with all of the same points he'd yelled the last time. But Crosshair raised his hand and finally met his eyes again.
"And I'm not saying we don't want you. I'm saying that we don't need you, not anymore. We're taking care of ourselves now. Or, at least we're figuring it out. We don't need you to tell us what to do. You can just be our brother."
Hunter's mouth was still open, though now he couldn't think of anything to say.
"Everyone else in the world, though? Maybe they could use your bossiness. Like, I don't know, convicts? Angsty middle schoolers? Couples in marriage counseling?"
Hunter rolled his eyes and Crosshair chuckled.
"Or what's that program? Where you pretend to be some kid's brother?"
"Big Brothers, Big Sisters," Hunter said. He was chuckling along with him now, but there was a little nagging feeling in the back of his mind at the idea. He hadn't considered anything to do with mentoring kids before, but there may be legs to it.
Crosshair didn't let him ponder it for long. He reached over and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Yeah, well, great chat. But my real plan was to get you drunk. That's what helps me when I'm depressed. So let's get out of here before the good bars get busy."
"I'm not depressed..."
"Sure." Crosshair was walking toward the door now.
"And you know I don't drink..."
"Just get your coat, dude. I'll be in the car."
Hunter shook his head as the door closed behind his brother, and then looked down and shook his head at Batcher.
"Can you believe this guy?"
He waited a few minutes, just to be annoying, and then grabbed his coat and followed.
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Fives wakes up on New Year's Day with no recollection of the night before. Shenanigans ensue as he goes on a quest to piece together what exactly he and his brothers got up to on New Year's Eve.
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Part Three - 11:00 AM
Fives x fem!S/O | 2.5k words
Content: drunkenness, hangovers and related symptoms, memory loss, sexual references, cursing
Note: The clock's a-ticking and only some of these boys are making any progress on getting their shit together 😅
Fives barely got a hand up in greeting before Jesse was in front of him. Lightning fast, his clone brother had somehow covered several paces in the blink of an eye and his scowl was now mere inches away from Fives' tortoiseshell sunglasses.
"What the hell, Fives?" he snapped.
Fives tried not to flinch at the volume. "Uh..."
"Why'd you ditch me?"
Oh. He hadn't even realized before, but now it occurred to him it was odd that Jesse wasn't part of this mess, or any of the fuzzy few memories he had. How had he ended up spending a wild night with Tup and Dogma of all people, and not his partner in crime?
While Fives fumbled for a response, Jesse took notice of the girl in his shadow and dropped his grimace.
"Hey, sweet thing."
Faith started to blush just as Fives not-so-subtly stepped in between. Jesse was notorious for flirting with everyone, and flirting well. Fives was not going to let him steal yet another one of his crushes.
"Dude, I'm so sorry." Fives put his hands up in innocence.
"Sorry? That's all you have to say for yourself?" Jesse's anger was back on. "You tricked me into climbing that tree so you could sneak off and have fun without me. Don't sorry me."
"That was you?" Faith asked. Jesse only frowned deeper and Fives gave her a questioning look. "When my friends and I got there, there was all this talk about some guy who'd gotten himself stuck in a tree outside, thought he was a Jedi."
She was barely holding back her laughter. There was no flirting with her now. Jesse stepped back and set his hands on his hips.
"Yeah, that's right, I was the dumbass who thought there were real kyber crystals up in that tree. I thought that because my best friend told me and I trusted him. But it turns out, he just wanted to distract me so he could run off with all the pretty girls for himself."
"Dude, I was so drunk..."
"So was I!" Jesse threw his hands in the air. "You told me you were getting help. I was up there so long I got sober. Almost fell like fifteen feet trying to get down so I could whoop your ass. Only you and the others were nowhere to be found. Real funny."
"I... don't remember any of that." Fives wished he had. He couldn't imagine himself willfully ditching Jesse, even if he was inebriated.
"Stole my helmet, too," Jesse continued complaining. "And the girl I was talking to. I spent the New Year nursing a headache all alone in my bunk."
Jesse's eyes flicked to Faith and he lowered his hands. "I mean... I could've gone home with someone else, obviously. I just, you know... I didn't feel like it. Because this di'kut really pissed me off."
"Look, Jesse, I will make it up to you, I swear. But I'm serious, I can't remember a damn thing. Apparently Rex's helmet is missing, and Dogma too, and we barely have an hour before Rex skins us alive."
Jesse brought his arms back up across his chest and started smirking at Fives.
"Is that so?" He glanced over at Faith again, who ruefully nodded in agreement. "Huh. Serves you right."
Fives didn't like his tone, and he really didn't like being stuck in this predicament. Remembering their time crunch had set his nerves all alight with anxiety.
"You said your helmet is missing, too?" Faith tried to remain helpful.
Jesse stared unblinking at Fives. "Yeah. I thought for sure you would've returned it by now, that's why I'm here and not on the ship with the rest of the company."
"I don't know where anyone's helmet is." Fives put his hands back up with an exasperated sigh. "Look, can I use your commlink to talk to Hardcase for a sec?"
"No."
"Come on, man."
Jesse was already walking backward, his smirk becoming more prominent. "You didn't want me around last night, you don't get my help now."
"Jesse, come on, I'm sure I didn't mean it."
The clone disappeared around the corner he'd come from. Fives very much wanted to throw a tantrum right now. Screaming, kicking, the whole bit. But there was a lady present, so he settled for moans and restless pacing.
"It's okay," Faith tried to assure him, though she made sure to stay out of his way as he stomped around in distress.
"No, no, it's not okay," he bemoaned. "He'll go straight to Rex and tell him everything. Even if we find Dogma and that stupid helmet, Rex will still know we fucked up."
"Don't get ahead of yourself. We do still need to find your friend and that helmet. Let's just start there."
Fives sagged against one of the walls and took off the sunglasses. He blinked through the fluorescents at Faith's earnest smile. His shoulders sagged.
"Look, Faith, I... I appreciate all your help. I really do. But this is my mess and you don't have to--"
"Don't be ridiculous," she shook her head. "This is the funniest shit I've ever heard. I'm sticking with you to see how it turns out."
He would've hoped for something more encouraging, like Gee, Fives, you're the greatest guy I've ever met and of course I'm going to help you and then go out with you and possibly even marry you and have your children. But he supposed he'd settle for being her entertainment for the day, instead.
* * *
"What's up, hotshot? You find anything?"
Hardcase munched on a banana while holding the commlink between him and Tup. After they'd finished muscling down breakfast, Hardcase had insisted on finding some mid-morning snacks at a nearby market. They were now perched on a retaining wall outside, hoping the sun and fresh air would perk them up enough to pass off as deployable in an hour.
"Eh, not really."
Hardcase and Tup exchanged a sour look. What the hell had Fives been doing this whole time?
"But we've got some ideas. Well, one idea. Security tapes. We'll check the ones at the club, see if we can track down Rex's helmet. You guys look at the ones in Faith's building to see when Dogma left."
"How are we going to convince the building manager to let us look?"
"You're soldiers with the GAR, right?" came Faith's voice.
"We don't look like it, honey."
Hardcase had his magenta scarf wrapped around his head while Tup had both of their beanies wadded up over his cold hands. Tup's teardrop tattoo was also super inflamed from continually being rubbed at, though Hardcase wasn't going to tell him that.
"And what do we do after?" Tup added. "Footage will only show whenhe left, not where he was going."
There was static on the other end of the line for a moment, and then Fives barked, "I don't know, figure it out! You got the same training I did, I don't have to be the only one coming up with plans around here."
The connection ended. Hardcase hopped off the wall. "Well he sounds stressed."
"And you're not?" Tup rushed after him as they made their way back down the street toward Faith's apartment building. "You do realize we could be decommissioned for this."
"Lighten up, teardrop."
As his brother clapped him over the back, a sudden, unnerving sense of déjà vu overcame Tup. Hardcase had said that exact same thing to him before, hitting him the exact same way. He was sure of it. Except, the more he thought about how sure he was, the less real it then became. He clutched at his head with a small whimper.
"This is the worst. Why can't I remember anything? And why are you so kriffing calm?"
Hardcase shrugged as they came up to the apartment. He held open the door for Tup. "I'm not so good at remembering things anyway."
There was one other person in the lobby, standing by the lifts as if just coming off, and looking very confused. She had bright red, curly hair. When she noticed two clones approaching, she let out a gasp.
"Hardcase!"
He grinned. Of all the things that had been erased from his memory, he was so glad she wasn't one of them.
"Suzy!"
The girl rushed to him, curls bouncing, and threw herself into his arms. Tup made a gagging face.
"I thought I'd never see you again!" she said as Hardcase gently set her down. "It's been a rough morning but I cleaned myself up as best as I could and came over to see if maybe you were still here. But no one answered. Faith's not answering her calls, either."
Suzy frowned in worry.
"Oh, you're the one who's been calling!" Hardcase laughed, digging out her friend's commlink from his pocket. "Ours died so she lent hers. Said not to talk to any of her contacts under any circumstances."
"Is she okay?"
"Oh yeah. She's with Fives, they're looking at security tapes at the club. Hey!" A thought occurred to Hardcase. He was oblivious to how confused the poor girl looked, not having been in the loop on all the happenings and still nursing a bit of a hangover herself. "Maybe you can help us? We need to check the security footage here, see where Dogma went."
"Oh! Sure, I'll help!" She peered around Hardcase's muscular frame at the manager cleaning up behind the front desk. She squared herself up and winked. "I can get you ten minutes."
She shimmied across the lobby, squeaking about a lost earring, and the manager immediately went to help her look. As they knelt to peer under one of the lobby sofas, the clones slipped into the back room. There was only one holo-system, and Tup got to work accessing its security footage while Hardcase kept an eye out by the door.
"What a woman," he whispered in awe as he watched the redhead continue effortlessly distracting the manager.
Tup eyed him over the holoscreen as he sped through footage from the night before. "It's not nice to use her like this."
Hardcase frowned. "I'm not using her. She wanted to help."
"Because she likes you."
"Lots of people like me."
"She cleaned herself out of a hangover to find you. And you just put her to work."
"You're going along with it," Hardcase pointed out.
"I desperately don't want to be decommissioned today."
Tup watched the screen as Hardcase, Dogma, and Faith's friends tore down the hall toward her apartment. A bit later, he, Fives, and a couple others stumbled in. He resisted the urge to slow down the video and analyze it. He could barely recognize himself, riding piggy-back on some strange guy, laughing loudly and spilling beer all down the hall.
"I'm just saying, she seems like a sweet girl," he said to cover up his discomfort at watching himself. "You should at least try to see her again. Take her out, buy her flowers, something."
"And this is why you never get laid," Hardcase muttered by the door. "Find anything yet?"
Tup shook his head and watched another few minutes of footage speed by. Other people walked up and down, going to their own rooms. The timestamp changed from one year to the next, and Fives and Faith went into the hall and shared a kiss. A short while after, Hardcase and Suzy came out and gave each other hand jobs. Tup rolled his eyes.
Some of the other people they'd hung out with left one by one thereafter, and a little after one in the morning, Faith went by with Suzy hanging on her arm, just as she'd said. Tup watched unblinking as nothing happened for most of the rest of the night. And then, right before six, Faith's apartment door opened again.
"There!" Tup exclaimed, slowing the feed back to real-time. Hardcase abandoned his post and rushed over to watch.
Dogma came out of the apartment, carrying a pillow and a blanket. He paused in the hall, looking up and down, clearly disoriented. Then, with a yawn, he shuffled toward the right, the opposite direction of the lifts.
"Where's he goin?" Hardcase wondered out loud.
Tup kept the original feed up, speeding it up again to see if Dogma ever came back down the hall. Meanwhile, he tried locating the other cameras on that floor to see where their brother had wandered.
"Hey!"
The manager appeared in the doorway, causing Tup and Hardcase to jump.
"Where does this hallway go?" Hardcase asked, pointing to the holoscreen. "Floor 11. More apartments?"
"You can't be back here!" was all the manager said, stomping into the room but not knowing what else to do about two oddly-dressed clones in his office.
Tup and Hardcase looked at each other and then immediately got up, running back out into the lobby. Suzy stood by the desk and only got out two words of apology before the pair had rushed into the stairwell. Even with a lingering hangover, months of relentless drills on Kamino in all states of health ensured they had the grit to skip up eleven flights of stairs without pause. They hurried past Faith's door, splitting up when the hall eventually forked, and meeting up when it rejoined on the other side of the building. They shook their heads. They'd each past about a dozen more doors. Dogma could've gone into any one of them, and could've possibly left since they'd all gone out that morning.
"Wait," said Hardcase, nodding toward another stairwell in the corner of the hall.
Tup couldn't help the whimper that escaped him. "So he left the building and curled up in some random alley in Coruscant. Great."
Hardcase pushed through the stairwell door anyway. After a few seconds, his head peered back through the door with a grin.
Tup rushed over. Lo and behold, there was Dogma. Only half a floor up, wrapped in a blanket and cradling a pillow, snoring softly.
"He was here the whole kriffing time," Hardcase started laughing.
Tup rushed over and shook Dogma's shoulder relentlessly. The clone grumbled and cursed under his breath until he finally opened his eyes and swatted at Tup's hand.
"Rise and shine!" Hardcase declared.
Dogma let out a garbled string of expletives.
"Aw, he's a grumpy drunk."
Hardcase and Tup grabbed ahold of each of Dogma's arms and hoisted him up, ignoring his protests. He didn't seem to understand where he was or what was happening, but at least he could stand between them as they helped him down the stairs.
"Time?" Tup asked.
Hardcase checked the chrono display on the commlink. "We can make it. We'll have to slap some sense into this one on the way."
Dogma said something in another language, or perhaps it was just nonsense. He was like a toddler learning how to walk and talk.
"Oh kriff, we still don't have Rex's helmet!"
"That's Five's problem," said Tup with a smirk.
Hardcase chuckled. "Damn, Tup. There just may be hope for you yet."
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What Happened Last Night Tag: @griffedeloup
A peek into Beth's life on February 2nd through the years.
Part of my AU "The Batch Family" [Collection Masterlist]
Word count: 2k | Batch ages: Multiple
Note: The sections don't necessarily follow any sort of pattern or theme, I just liked the concept of seeing what's going on on the same day each year. It's also very Beth-centric, even though the section headers are the boys' ages. And I teased a lil somethin-somethin for her future at the end
5 months old
"Are you sure you're up for it?" Beth asked, cradling the receiver between her cheek and shoulder as she fiddled with papers strewn across her desk.
"Girl, you couldn't pay me enough to get out of this house," Arla sighed on the other end of the line.
As if on queue, a baby started crying in the background. Beth shook her head, grateful she was far from having such chaos in her home. Granted, if her friends saw the mess of portfolios and proposals her internship had her up against, they'd probably say the same thing.
"Sheeka, too," Arla said calmly through the wailing. "You know she had the audacity to say we're co-parenting her brood? Like bitch, I didn't get the IVF quadruplets. My Echo's enough to handle on his own, thank you. Yes... yes he is... oh he's just one big cute handful isn't he..."
As Arla's voice devolved in high-pitched coos, the crying quieted down into mere fussing. Beth hardly noticed her friend was no longer paying attention to their call; she really wasn't either. A lot had changed in all of their lives. Pretending to carry on their nightly phone conversations was a thin and desperate thread holding their friendship together.
"Well, let me know if anything changes," Beth eventually said. "I could really use the extra night to prepare for this presentation."
There was a raspberry sound, possibly from Arla though it could've also been from her baby. It was hard to tell. "Oh, and I'm the one that needed to be convinced to take a night off. I see how it is."
"I'm just saying, if your babysitter falls through, or Sheeka changes her mind, or..."
"Beth. Put down the paperwork. Step away from the spreadsheets. We're going out drinking and that's final."
The line clicked and Beth sighed, though she wasn't mad. She missed her friends. It would be good for them to get out and have fun, like they used to before all these adult responsibilities. She just hoped she wouldn't have to hear about yet another baby story....
- - -
5 years old
"Hun, get your feet off the table."
Beth swooped through the living room, whisking up toys and shoes and even a piece of pizza crust. She couldn't even remember the last time they'd had pizza.
"My feet aren't on the table, my socks are," Hunter said.
Beth decided to ignore the comment as she was already halfway down the hall.
"Stop it!" Crosshair whined as Beth popped into the first bedroom, depositing one set of shoes and picking up another.
Wrecker only giggled as he continued batting the stuffed animal in his brother's face.
"Stoooop!" Crosshair pushed at him a bit. Wrecker stumbled back dramatically.
"Moooom, he pushed me!" Wrecker wailed.
Beth snatched away the stuffed toy, adding it to the collection of odd items in her arms. It's not like she bought them a bunch of things. Money was tight and she never wanted them to have too many possessions to take care of. But there were five of them, so the quantity still added up whether she liked it or not.
"No hitting. No pushing," she said before leaving.
The next bedroom was worse than the last. Bedding on the floor, toys on the beds, a pile of sticks in the corner. Where had those come from? She hadn't let them outside all day.
She dumped the items from her arms onto the nearest bed. She'd have to deal with all this later.
"Where you going, Momma?"
Tech shuffled behind her down the hall. He kept pulling up his pants. Great, she must've accidentally put him in Wrecker's again.
"Bathroom. Please don't follow me."
"That's unfortunate."
Her eye twitched. He said that phrase all the time now.
She hurried into her room and Tech stopped at the doorway. They didn't always obey that one house rule of Mom's room being off limits, so she was always surprised when they did choose to stay out.
Beth closed the bathroom door and let her head rest against the wood. She was losing it, she could feel it. She'd made it through the sleepless nights of infancy, the tantrums of the terrible twos, the scariness of their first day of school. But right now, for some reason that may only be a symptom of PMS-ing, she felt more overwhelmed than ever. She had so much to do, constantly. The boys were everywhere. She felt like she barely connected with them outside of commands to stop doing things. When had she become this person? When had she stopped being a good mom?
She took in a few measured breaths. Something had to change. She wasn't sure what, or how, but she was determined to turn this ship around.
- - -
10 years old
"Pardon me for the intrusion."
Cody gave Beth a nod as he stepped into the kitchen. She looked up from her recipe book in surprise.
"Your boys invited me to scope out their spot for the tree house. Hope you don't mind."
"Of course not!" Beth gave an easygoing smile. "I'm so glad you're helping them with this. I'm afraid my carpentry skills don't extend past IKEA bookshelves."
Cody laughed. "Well, your boys are more eager to learn than mine. I'll make sure they get some useful skills out of this, and stay safe."
"I appreciate that."
Cody looked like he was about to continue the conversation, but then Hunter and Tech tugged on his sleeves and pulled him reluctantly away into the backyard to join the others. Beth shook her head in amusement as she watched them through the window. They skipped about as they explained their plans, talking over each other, desperate for his attention. Cody remained calm and directed their energy easily.
Beth felt a little twist in her chest. Not for the first time, she wished she had a man. Not Cody specifically, of course. But someone strong and kind and capable of handling all the things she failed at. Someone the boys could look up to. Someone she could lean on.
She quickly shook herself. No, dwelling on those thoughts would only make it worse. She had to make it on her own.
"It is what is it," she muttered, flipping to the next page of recipes and pretending dinner plans were the most important thing to focus on.
- - -
15 years old
"Excuse me, do you have the time?"
An elderly woman paused by Beth's cart with a friendly smile. Beth pulled out her phone to check
"Ten 'til four."
"Thank you, dear."
The woman's squeaky wheel kept moving down the aisle and Beth returned to her comparison of two protein powder brands. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but rattle off her boys' schedules.
Ten 'til four on a Tuesday... Hunter and Wrecker in driver's ed. Echo at debate practice. Tech with his study group. Crosshair walking home.
At least, that's where they all should be, and she felt it to be true even though there was always the possibility of a teenage boy doing his own thing without her knowing. She didn't mind them having their freedom, but she also preferred to still picture them as her perfect, well-behaved boys.
She finally settled on one of the protein powders and pushed her cart along. She turned the corner toward the registers and tried not to grimace at the excessive displays of Valentine's food and flowers. It was barely February and the stores had had this crap out for weeks already. All the same, she did slide a box of heart-shaped chocolates into her cart. No one else would be buying her any.
Just as she found a register with a short line, however, came a commotion from behind her. The old woman from earlier had collapsed into a display of conversation hearts. Beth abandoned her cart and rushed over to her.
"Ma'am, are you okay? Can you hear me?"
Beth cradled the woman's head and checked for a pulse. Her eyes fluttered open and cast about in confusion.
"I... I don't know what happened..."
Others in the store were hovering, looking to be of help. One crouched beside Beth and caused her to do a double-take. It was her neighbor, Commander Wolffe.
"Ma'am, are you hurt anywhere?" he asked in his rough, deep tones. Beth instantly felt flushed and nervous, as she always did around the man.
"I... just wanted some candy... for my grandkids..."
"I'll call for help," Beth said, taking out her phone.
Wolffe shook his head and began helping the woman up. "I'll take her to the hospital in my squad car. You'll be alright, ma'am. We'll make sure you're taken care of."
"But..." The lady, leaning heavily against Wolffe, pointed at the fallen candy display. "I get them every year...."
"How many grandkids do you have?" Beth asked.
"Five."
Beth smiled. She quickly grabbed five boxes of the conversation hearts and handed them to Wolffe, looking over at the store manager who was standing nearby.
"You can ring them up with my cart," she said and the manager nodded in agreement.
Beth watched as Wolffe slowly walked the woman out the doors. She glanced down and noticed he'd left behind a basket of items. She scooped it up.
"And this, too," she said to the manager, who ushered her over to a register.
Wolffe reminded her of the boys she'd grown up with. Jango, with his quiet and serious demeanor, and Boba with his rugged assuredness. He intimidated the hell out of her. She wasn't sure she could ever be with a man like that, but she felt like at this point in her life, she might owe it to that little voice in the back of her mind, that suspiciously sounded like a combination of Arla and Padme, to at least be open to the idea. They'd been neighbors for a few years now but rarely interacted. Maybe a door would open by taking him his groceries.
- - -
20 years old
"Well? Shadow or no shadow?"
The man in bed beside her mumbled as he rolled over and rubbed at his eyes.
Beth sighed. "Shadow."
"And what does that mean again?"
"Six more weeks of winter."
He groaned and she joined him. She tossed her phone across the bed and wiggled in closer to him. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.
"What are we going to do with these six weeks, mm?" he hummed against her.
Beth dragged her finger through the hair on his chest in thought. Things were so different now. Two decade of madness, trying to keep up with her boys and all their activities. She'd still worked, had some of her own hobbies and passion projects. But never this much time to do with as she liked.
And never with a partner.
"What if..." There was one thing, one dream she'd always had but never actualized. Maybe there was a way the two of them could finally figure out how to make it happen.
"Go on," he encouraged. She could feel his lips smile against her forehead.
"What if we got a cabin in the mountains somewhere? Like, a B&B, or maybe Padme knows someone who'd let us rent for a few weeks? We can invite the boys. I know they all have their things now, but even if they stopped by for a few days, whenever they had the time... I don't know. Maybe it's a silly idea."
"No. No, no, no." He pulled away to cup a hand along the side of her face. He was grinning. "That sounds fantastic!"
"Really?" she asked. It still felt strange for her to voice what she wanted, and to have someone so readily support it. "We'd probably just be doing the same things we'd be doing here at home..."
"But it'd be in a cabin so it'd feel more special," he nodded, as if he was finishing her sentence. "I'll teach you how to snowboard, we'll get fires going in the evenings, we'll wear nothing but flannel... it'll be great!"
His smile was infectious. Beth grinned in return. She leaned forward to kiss him but he was already shimmying out of bed.
"No time to lose!" he beamed. "Call Padme. Let's make this happen."
Beth fell back on the bed with a huff. She loved her husband, but sometimes he could be just as much a handful as her sons.
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hihihi can i just say i found your blog maybe 5 years ago? and it was my infatuation and after awhile i kinda moved on and now i've come back to star wars and stumbled across your stuff again and it honestly brings me so much joy reading all your stuff again
❤️🤗
Thank you so much for dropping in with this message! I’m happy you’re getting back into Star Wars and so flattered that my stories are good enough to return to and enjoy again 🥰 I haven’t been as active in the last few months so it’s really nice to hear that my blog is still visited lol
Fives wakes up on New Year's Day with no recollection of the night before. Shenanigans ensue as he goes on a quest to piece together what exactly he and his brothers got up to on New Year's Eve.
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Part Two - 10:00 AM
Fives x fem!S/O | 3k words
Content: drinking, drunkenness, hangovers and related symptoms, memory loss, sexual references, cursing
Note: So happy the first part got such positive reception! I didn't mean for this much time to pass before part two, though, so hopefully I can get the rest of the story out in quicker updates.
"So... what happened last night?"
Fives questioned their new companion as the four of them trudged down the walkway. They were quite the motley crew. Faith, obviously, was the normal one. She had her partially-braided hair beneath a beanie while the rest of her was snuggly wrapped in a nice pink peacoat. She walked in a straight line at a steady pace.
And then there were the hungover clone men beside her.
They all had on lady's sunglasses to block out the stupidly bright winter sun. Their crocheted scarves and pastel hats, also borrowed, were pulled haphazardly around their faces. Their hands hadn't been able to fit in any of the offered gloves so instead they cradled steaming paper cups of caf, though only Hardcase could stomach drinking it. Tup had promptly thrown up his first gulp in the bushes outside Faith's apartment; Fives had wisely decided to not even chance a taste.
And now they were shuffling down the streets of Coruscant's surface level at varying paces, trying so hard to appear normal that they very much looked like creatures who had never been outside before. Faith had to hide her amusement every time she looked over at them.
"Do you really want to know?" she responded to Fives's question with one of her own. She didn't mind telling the stories, only that there were so many it would probably take her all day to properly tell them all.
Tup groaned from behind rose-tinted glasses and an orange plaid scarf. "No, I really don't."
Hardcase chuckled over his near-empty caf cup while Fives swerved to avoid a lamppost that he had suddenly noticed.
"We have to know," Fives insisted. "We need clues."
"We need breakfast," mumbled Hardcase.
"You had a plate full of eggs, you're fine."
"You used up all my eggs?" asked Faith. "I needed those for a recipe."
"We'll get you more." Fives elbowed Hardcase. "Right?"
"Ow!"
"We don't have time for this... where are we even going?" Tup whined.
Faith slowed down with a shrug. "I don't know. I was waiting for one of you to take the lead."
Fives handed his untouched caf over to Hardcase and set his hands on his hips. "How? How can we possibly know where to go when we don't remember anything?"
"And when we don't have a proper meal on our stomachs?" Hardcase chimed in. Tup was about to protest but he held up his hand. "I'm being serious. Get some food in you, and you'll feel better. My headache's already gone."
"Okay, okay," Faith stepped in. "How about this. There's a cafe up ahead. Let's stop there, get something to eat, and I'll tell you everything I know. Then we can come up with a plan on where to go."
They all agreed on the plan and followed Faith to the cafe, getting a booth in the back where no one would get to overhear whatever details were shared about their wild New Year's Eve. A waiter brought over glasses of orange juice and slapped down some menus. Faith slid in behind Tup on one side, much to Fives's annoyance. He made room for Hardcase to join him on the opposite side, but the antsy clone waved him off.
"I gotta find the 'fresher first."
"We don't have time!" Tup hissed after him.
They would've been on the move sooner had it not taken fifteen minutes to convince Hardcase to change back into his own clothes. He'd grown quite fond of Faith's ultra-soft sweatpants, despite what little they did to cover his manhood. Fives had refused to let him outside until he changed into something more publicly acceptable.
"Are all clones that... well-endowed?" Faith mused while watching Hardcase scurry away.
Tup almost choked on his juice at her shameless question. Fives couldn't decide between feeling self-conscious or attracted.
"I knew you were checking me out!" Hardcase called across the cafe.
"Wait," said Fives, fighting the urge to readjust himself while on such a topic. "So we didn't... I mean... you know...?"
Faith shook her head and smirked nonchalantly.
"But... I woke up in your bed." Fives also fought to keep his disappointment from showing. There were bigger problems at hand, true, but it would've been nice to know he'd at least had a good tumble in the sheets for all these troubles.
"You passed out in my bed," she leveled an unamused look back at him. "You went in my room without asking, begged me to snuggle with you, and then passed out."
Tup started snickering.
Fives glared at him. "So... we snuggled?"
"I did not snuggle with you."
Fives hid his frown behind a menu. He must have been sloppy drunk to not even score first base.
"Where did you sleep?" Tup asked. He tried for another sip of juice, pausing to make sure the liquid stayed down before going for another.
Fives couldn't help but lower his menu back down as Faith finally started sharing some useful information about the night before.
"Well, most of you had passed out around the place. My friends had already left, except for Suzy, who was just as drunk as the rest of you. So I walked her home and crashed on her couch. She's just across the street from me so I didn't think it was too big a deal leaving you all at my place. I was planning to be back before you woke up, but then I remembered your jacket and thought I'd get that taken care of first. Took longer than I thought."
"And Dogma was there when you left?"
Faith nodded. "Yeah, the two of you were on the couches. Hardcase on the floor. Fives in my bed."
Fives felt a warm tingle at hearing her say his name.
"And what time did you leave?" Tup kept up his questioning. He wished he could be taking notes.
"It was probably close to one at that point. Not too late."
The waiter returned just as Hardcase made his way back from the refresher. Hardcase put the orders in for them, giving Tup a knowing look as he pushed Fives further into the booth to take his seat.
"Frittatas and fruit, huh?" Faith raised her eyebrows. "I would've taken you for a meat and carbs guy."
Hardcase slung an easy arm across the back of the booth. "Oh I'll eat anything, but a hangover like this, gotta stick with the brain food."
"Sheesh, you sound like Kix," said Tup. He supposed fruit didn't sound too disgusting, especially since he'd been able to keep down half a glass of OJ so far.
"Kix." Fives sat up straight as an idea took hold. "Dogma's a practical guy, right? If he woke up before us, he'd probably want to get some medical help first."
"And leave us to fend for ourselves." Hardcase nodded. "Sounds about right."
"He probably took Rex's helmet with him, too."
Tup visibly relaxed in the corner of the booth. "Well then... case closed. No need to rush."
Fives could see Faith shaking her head and gave her a questioning look.
"You didn't have any helmets with you. Not at the party or when you came to my place."
Tup tensed back up again.
"It's okay," Fives quickly supplied. "We still have a starting point. We'll find Kix, see what he knows. Go from there."
"Doesn't sound like much of a plan," Tup grumbled. "The food's taking forever and we don't even know if Kix knows anything. We're screwed."
Fives glanced over at the chrono hanging on the cafe wall and had to admit he was starting to worry, too. It was already half past 10. An hour and half left before Rex would put an end to their active service.
Faith must have noticed his worry as she leaned in toward him. He'd been annoyed at not being able to sit next to her or across from her, as if seating arrangements really mattered that much. But her effort to get closer to him specifically did make him feel a little better.
"Maybe we can split up? Whatever you need from me, I'll help."
She gave a genuine smile and Fives found a surge of confidence.
"Okay," he decided, grabbing his juice glass and slamming down the liquid. His stomach turned at the sudden weight but he pushed aside the feeling. "Tup, stay here with Hardcase and get some food in you. Faith, leave your comm here. We'll use Kix's to let you guys know what we find out."
"Why am I the only one who needs food?" Tup asked him suspiciously.
"I'll get a stimpack from Kix or something," he tried to act casual as he pushed Hardcase out of the booth so he could join Faith.
"And why couldn't I get--" Tup started arguing back but Hardcase shushed him.
"Tup, stop cock-blocking him, man," he said loudly, giving Fives a wink as he slid back into the booth. "Read the room."
Fives couldn't hurry Faith out of there fast enough.
* * *
All around him, figures blurred as they moved faster than his mind could keep up with. Lights streaked across his vision and the beat of a bass vibrated the floor beneath his feet. There was the smell of alcohol and sweat, sounds of laughter and trumpets, the warmth of huddled, dancing bodies mixed with cold breezes from the open windows.
That was all on the outside. In the inside, he was the happiest he'd ever felt. Like he was floating on clouds. No missions, no firefights. Just the company of his brothers and booze, and a night that promised infinite possibility.
He could feel the burn of liquor in his throat and a body pressed up against his, though he couldn't see who it was. And then everything started to blur further and further into oblivion, until it disappeared altogether and all that was left was a throbbing in his temples and a lurch in his stomach.
"You okay, there, soldier?"
Faith rubbed at Fives's back as he hunched over a paper bag in the seat beside her. He tried to focus on her touch and not the weight of the liquid accumulating in the bag. They'd taken a speeder cab; a mistake. He was embarrassed at not being able to chip in any credits to pay their fare, and now worse, the motion was finally dislodging those sickly symptoms he'd been fighting to keep down all morning.
"What the hell did I drink?" he moaned, cursing the fact his breath now stank to high heaven.
"Blurrgfire," Faith said with a small laugh. "You had about eight of them at the party. Not sure what you'd had before I showed up. And then at my place, you boys helped me clear out all the wine people have gifted me... I think one was a 50-year bottle. That's probably what did you in."
"And you really stayed sober the whole time?"
He wished he could remember her. Pieces of the party were coming back to him. Silly words distorted by blaring speakers, like shingaling and slizzard. Some faces glitching in slow motion, like Hardcase and his redhead. But no Dogma. No Rex. And no Faith.
"I've been on medication for depression for a year now," she explained so casually that Fives finally forced his eyes away from the floor to look at her. "It feels so good to feel normal for once, I don't mind being the chaperone for my friends. I stay out of the way and let them have their fun, keep an eye on things, make sure no drinks get spiked, that everyone gets home safe. And yeah... sometimes I pick up some strays along the way. You clones are by far the funniest guests I've had."
He had so much he wanted to ask her, not about their current predicament, but about her life. He'd spent time with plenty of civvies while on leave, but none interesting enough to have a meaningful conversation with. Besides, it was easier to leave a stranger behind in a bed than to have to say goodbye to a friend.
"Well I'm glad you find my problems so entertaining," he decided to tease instead. He hadn't felt too nauseous turning his head toward her, so he thought he'd try sitting back in the seat again. Faith's hand stayed on his shoulder to steady him and then regretfully pulled away once he'd settled.
"You said you left your apartment around one?" he said. He hoped by hearing more details, other memories would come out. "So where were we at midnight?"
Faith tucked a leg under her and started outlining the timeline as she knew it. She'd arrived at the cantina with her friends at 9. Fives and his brothers were already there and had immediately taken to her pretty friends. They'd all drank and danced for a few hours, and then the topic of her untouched wine collection came up. They left around 11, but the group split on the way to her apartment. Fives, Tup, and her friends Lenny and Lecrae had ran off in search of fried chicken, for some reason Faith couldn't remember. They'd shown back up at her place just before midnight with more liquor, no chicken, and new tattoos. They rang in the New Year and then played strip poker until everyone either left or passed out.
"I got a tattoo, too?" He already had a sleeve of different patterns and symbols but hadn't noticed anything new added. And no telltale itch that usually accompanied fresh ink. But then again, he'd really only been able to feel a headache so far.
"Supposedly on your ass? That's how the strip poker thing started. You wouldn't show anyone without making a game out of it first. I think you were full of shit."
There was a teasing glint in her eyes that gave Fives that sense of déjà vu all over again. It was the strangest thing. He couldn't remember her but he knew she had been part of his night. If her account was true, she would've been in the background of everything, silently laughing at their antics and subtly keeping them out of any real trouble. She wasn't a knock-out beauty, so he likely hadn't paid her as much attention as the others in his inebriated state, at least not until everyone else had left. A shame, he now knew. She was cute in her own way. Endearing. He wanted everyone to like him, but the feeling was even stronger with her. Maybe it was better they hadn't slept together. A woman like her, he'd want to remember every moment with.
He shifted under the guise of resettling his stomach, while really making sure his knee could knock against hers whenever the speeder turned a corner.
They soon arrived at the GAR headquarters. Kix wasn't scheduled for this next mission so Fives was confident he'd be putting his time in the medbay instead. If he hadn't gone out on his own New Year's adventure. Faith couldn't recall whether she had seen a clone like him or not at the party. Fives had to trust that Kix didn't suddenly get fun overnight and would be hard at work per usual.
They hustled through the hallways to the medbay, and then snaked their way through the beds toward the back room. No sign of Dogma anywhere, though there were plenty of clones who looked like they'd had a similar night. Fives made a beeline for some cabinets, looking for a stimpack. Faith hung back awkwardly and jumped when Kix burst through the door behind them.
Whatever chastisement was on the medic's tongue died out upon the sight before him. "What are you wearing?"
Fives still had Faith's sunglasses and bucket hat on, finding the florescent lights just as bothersome as the sun. He'd undone the scarf in the cab when he'd been throwing up his guts so the pink and yellow fabric now flapped about as he spun between cabinets and drawers.
"Hey, man," he responded nonchalantly, having finally found a stim. "You seen Dogma?"
Kix shook himself. "You know what, I don't want to know. You need to leave."
Fives went to the corner next to the full-length mirror and shrugged his pants down enough to see his rear. No tattoos. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disappointed, so instead he just jammed the stim into his flesh before Kix could grab it away.
"Aren't you supposed to be deploying soon?" Kix demanded. He went to toss the empty stim and did a a double-take when he noticed the strange woman standing in the corner. She gave a small wave and he sighed.
"You can't just march in here with a civvie and steal supplies," said Kix.
"I'm not stealing. They're meant for the GAR and I'm using them...."
"They're meant for battle. Injured, dying soldiers. Not to erase the mistakes of a reckless night out." Kix waived his hand toward the door and it was clear he was frustrated by more than just Fives. "I'm a doctor, not a nanny."
"So no Dogma?" Fives changed the subject.
"No," Kix snapped.
Fives cursed. Their one lead. Now they were back at square one.
"Would he have gone to anyone else?" Faith asked.
Fives only rubbed at his temples, finding it difficult to think. The effects of the stim would take a few minutes longer to be felt, but he didn't have minutes. The morning was waning and they were no closer to figuring anything out than they had been when they'd first woken up in a groggy stupor.
Kix looked at the time on his holopad. "Alright, I've got a battalion coming in soon. I need every hungover lump in here to clear out. Including your girlfriend. Let's go."
He shooed them all the way out into the hall, though Fives didn't need too much coaxing to get out of there. He wasn't a fan of the medbay.
"We can retrace your steps," Faith was starting to suggest as they walked down the hallway at a substantially slower, more uncertain pace than when they'd come in.
But then came a booming voice that caused them both to jerk in surprise.
"Fives! What the kriff?!"
They turned to find a clone standing across the hall, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed beneath a Republic cogwheel tattoo. And he was pissed.
Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear, @theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565, @msmeredithrose
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What Happened Last Night Tag: @griffedeloup
Note: Year 3 of my tradition writing super self-indulgent Crosshair scenes for my birthday 🙃 I will never tire of finding ways to make grumpy toothpick man soft and tender.
You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders as you gazed out at the city from your balcony. It was chilly but not unbearable. It was your birthday and you felt at peace.
You'd told anyone who'd asked that you didn't want it to be a big deal this year. It wasn't a milestone age, there was a lot to worry about going on in the galaxy, it just didn't feel like the time for big celebrations. A nice, simple day was all you could really ask for.
Your man, Crosshair, was never one to make a fuss about such things anyway, so he'd hardly complained at the order to not bother with any special plans. Instead, the two of you had gone about the day as normal, attending to your own errands, comfortably working around each other without too much direct interaction.
Now you were taking a break outside, enjoying fresh air in last few hours of winter sunlight, silently reflecting on your year and the goals you had for yourself heading into the next one. You were content with where you were, proud of the things you'd accomplished, even if they weren't as impressive or flashy as others of your age. And you already had a few things to look forward to, new challenges to work through that would surely make you just as happy come your next birthday.
The small smile resting on your face started to grow wider as you felt a presence behind you. That was another thing to feel especially grateful for, you noted, as warmth pressed into your back and thin arms snaked around to pull you closer. You leaned into Crosshair's embrace, resting your head back onto his shoulder. His mouth pressed into your hair with a low hum.
Then the hum grew into a tune. You closed your eyes as soft words floated in the air around you.
Like a river flows... Surely to the sea... Darling, so it goes...
Your body subtly shifted to the side, and then to the other, as Crosshair began rocking you back and forth. Swaying in time to the music you both heard in your heads.
Some things are meant to be...
You loved his voice. Some called it snake-like; menacing, even. And you could agree it was not a tone you'd want to hear at the other end of a blaster. But right now, there were no blasters. There was no war. No reason for him to be so cutting and severe. Now, his voice was soft. Gentle. Conveying few but meaningful words. And when he sang, you felt even more of his heart being shared.
Take my hand... Take my whole life too...
You breathed in deeply, and then your voice joined his.
"For I can't help... falling in love... with you...."
A light kiss was pressed to your temple as your harmony concluded.
"Happy Birthday, love," he whispered.
You tilted your head to try and get a look at him. He smiled down at you, looking just as serene as you felt.
"I love when you sing," you said.
Predictably, he huffed a little. "Only for you."
And it was true. No one knew the talent he had but you. He could sell records, perform at ritzy lounges... as you often teased. But not today. Today, you could keep his voice just for yourself.
You hummed and stood on your tip-toes to give him a kiss. "And what a lovely birthday song it is."
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🎂 Birthday Cake story (2024) | 🎁 Birthday Surprise story (2022)
Hi!!! I listening to the Florence and the Machine song “girl with one eye” and it got me in a super angsty mood, and I had this idea that what if reader saves Rex from being tortured like a heroine and does the dramatic bridal carry and everything, instead of the usual reader being saved like a lot of fics end up writing in terms of super angst (absolutely no hate, I love those too) I just think it would be nice to see the reader being extremely capable!
You obviously do not have to write anything like this, I just had the idea and you are by far one of my favorite writers (my dyslexic ass cant write for shit)
Anyways, hope you have a wonderful day!
Saving Rex
Rex x reader | 4.4k words
Content: torture (not shown but discussed), injuries, general angst, reader with some physical strength/stamina, friends to lovers, hope and love prevail
Note: I'd really like to believe I could carry Rex down a flight of stairs if I needed to. Maybe I'll use that for motivation during my next workout 😝 (Also this got really emotional in some places, please don't hate me)
To say you were panicking was an understatement. Rex had never been this late to a rendezvous. And with comms jammed, there weren't many options to figure out what could be keeping him. It was one of your only nightmares coming true. Something happening to that noble, wonderful man you called a friend.
You paced restlessly between the walls of the bunker, an eye on the door at all times. Any noise, any howl of the wind or scrape of someone's boot on the concrete floor, made you twitch in alarm. You had never experienced the seconds ticking by so slowly. Kriff, where was he?
"You should get some rest."
While you watched the door, Anakin watched you. Normally he would tease over any emotion you showed for his Captain; no matter how much you tried to keep such feelings under wraps, the Jedi always seemed to sense the truth anyway. But now he put jokes aside and did what he could to quell your anxieties.
You only shook your head in response and continued your pacing.
Anakin sighed and fell back in his chair. The other men in the bunker were anxious, too. Even if he couldn't feel it, he could see it all around. Bouncing knees. Fiddling with random objects. Untouched food and unspoken words. No one was going to sleep, even though everyone needed it. It was going to be a long night. Unless Rex found his way back.
Anakin could admit he was worried for the clone, too. They had fought alongside each other for so long now, it didn't seem possible that there'd be a day where one of them was no longer standing. But what he couldn't admit, at least not to anyone else, was that he had a very bad feeling this time. He kept trying to reach out in the Force, find some trace of his comrade out there, and he kept coming back with an even worse feeling than before.
A sudden sound at the door caused everyone to sit up, tense and hopeful. Three knocks with a very specific rhythm. Someone from your team. You could barely breathe as you waited for Anakin to open the door.
Ahsoka hurried through, along with a gust of wind that fluttered some of the more lightweight objects around the room. Anakin quickly shut it behind her. You'd almost forgotten she had been out, too. Gone to look for Rex, help him get back. But she hadn't brought anyone back with her. Now you really couldn't breathe.
"What'd you find?" asked Anakin, noting the urgent expression on the young girl's face.
"They've taken him to the fortress across the south bridge. I followed a... trail," she quickly glanced over at you, omitting what the trail was composed of for your sake, though you could make an educated guess if you had to. "They have him in a tower. I couldn't get eyes on him, but... Well, I could hear him."
Her face screwed up in distress at the memory and everyone in the room knew exactly what she meant.
"Any way we can carry out an extraction?" asked Anakin.
"If not now, then when?" You marched forward, determined and resolute. You could breathe again, though just barely. "Nighttime. Storm. Now is the only time."
Anakin still looked to his padawan for confirmation. She'd seen the fortress and would know whether it was a risk worth taking, even for someone as dear to them as Rex.
To your satisfaction, Ahsoka didn't hesitate to nod quickly. "That's why I hurried back as fast as I could. I couldn't get to him on my own, but with a small team...."
"It'll have to be really small. We can't risk blowing our cover here," Anakin agreed and finally uncrossed his arms. He hadn't realized how tense he'd been holding himself this whole time. But now there was some hope, and all that was needed to reach it was a bit of daring action. Something he was never in short supply of, and something hew knew Rex wouldn't hesitate to do for him if the roles were reversed.
"You, me," you motioned to yourself and Anakin. "Ahsoka can keep guard here."
"And me," came a clone's voice by your side. All of them were intently listening to the conversation, and while any one of them would have been eager to volunteer to save their Captain, one knew he was needed more than any other. Kix.
"There may not be time to administer first aid on sight," Anakin cautioned.
Kix puffed himself up a bit. "I'll do what I can. You two focus on getting us out without a fuss."
Anakin smirked and you cast him a grateful smile of your own. This was not an ideal outcome, learning that Rex was in distress. But at least he wasn't dead yet, and you could work with that. Now his fate was in your hands. And with a burning fire in your heart, you knew you would save him.
- - -
Rex waited until the echoing of their footsteps was gone before allowing himself to collapse. His knees hit cold stone but the jolt was barely felt amongst the rest of the pain radiating throughout his body. He curled in on himself, arms gently folding around the worst of the injuries in his middle, and his head hung low in exhaustion.
He wasn't sure how much more he could take of this. He hated the thought, but it was true. An entire day of torment and torture, relentless and unforgiving. Even with all his training, this situation was proving difficult to bear.
There was only one thing keeping him alive, he was sure of it. You. The memories of your smile, your laughter, all the lovely things you somehow said at just the right times. The thought of you continuing on without ever knowing how he felt. You were strong and capable in your own right, but he still wanted to be there for you. To protect you. To love you.
Gods, how he loved you.
He couldn't be broken in this place. No, not before seeing you one more time. He would give you his heart, and then he could finally let go.
- - -
Your feet thunked against each step of the spiraling stone stairs. Anakin's and Kix's were not far behind. Only a few guards and droids had had to be taken care of thus far, done swiftly and discretely by the two soldiers while you focused on navigating through the labyrinth of the fortress to the tower that held Rex. But as soon as you'd reached the door leading upward, Anakin had voiced his unease. Worse was coming, he insisted. And if they proceeded, they'd be just as trapped in that tower as their Captain was.
You pushed forward without a second thought.
And they reluctantly followed.
You weren't dumb. You knew it was foolish to rush into an enemy's territory with no plan and no backup. You knew you could be condemning Rex with your impulsive actions rather than saving him. But somehow, those sensible thoughts were overwhelmed by a deep and desperate need to find him at any cost. If you could just see him, then everything would be okay.
Thunk, thunk, thunk. One step and then another and another. Your lungs heaved and your thighs burned but you kept climbing. You weren't sensitive to the Force, but you swear you could feel yourself getting closer to him.
The sudden sound of a lightsaber igniting behind you finally gave you pause. You stumbled on the next step as you slowed and turned. Anakin had stopped several steps below and was staring downward, waiting for something.
"What is it, sir?" Kix huffed beside him.
Anakin only held up a finger as if he were trying to listen. You were panting, too, and tried to hold in a breath so you could hear whatever he could. There was only the hum of a lightsaber and the wailing of the wind from the other side of stone walls.
And then suddenly there was pounding. The whole tower seemed to shake with the thunderous footsteps of soldiers making their way upward, blocking your only way back out. Anakin jerked his head toward you.
"Go. Find him. I'll push them back."
As Anakin rushed downward, Kix wavered in between. Rex would need his aid, but his aid would be worthless if they couldn't escape. He finally looked back at you, too.
"You've got this," he stated before raising his blaster and following General Skywalker.
You resumed your trek upward, your attention slipping back to its previous singular focus of finding Rex. Of seeing him again. Alive.
You finally reached the top of the tower and were met with a simple wooden door. Again, you knew you should slow down and think through a strategy. What if there were guards on the other side? What if their blades slipped because you startled them? But you couldn't help yourself. You'd come too far to not burst right through.
There were no guards. There were no blades. But there was, thankfully, distressingly, Rex.
He was slumped against the far wall. Motionless. You crossed the room with a few bounding strides and gently pulled him away from the wall.
You'd anticipated him being in bad shape, but not to this extent. His armor was stripped and the tattered clothes they had him in instead did nothing to hide his condition. Bruises along his arms. A sickly pallor to his skin. Dark circles beneath his eyes and cracks along his lips. His head swung toward you listlessly as you turned him. You quickly positioned his body against yours and your hand cradled his head in support.
"Rex," you coaxed, willing your voice to remain strong. Panic wouldn't help him like this. "Rex, it's okay. We're going to get you out of here. Okay?"
His eyelids fluttered but couldn't seem to stay open. He did turn toward your voice, and through a series of near-unintelligible mutters, you managed to make out your name.
"Yes," you smiled, moving your hand to cup the side of his head so you could run a soothing thumb along his cheek. "Yes, it's me. I'm here. I've got you. You're okay now."
He shifted his arms, and at first you thought he was ready to try standing. You made to move, too, but then noticed he was doing something else. He held his hand over his chest, on the side of his heart. And then slowly, his other hand reached out to rest onto your chest.
You shook your head at him, not understanding. Was he hurt there? Did they do something to his heart?
Then Rex's worn face contorted into what could only be a smile. A small but serene smile, like he'd finally found peace. The smile slowly slipped away and his body started to feel heavier in your arms.
Now you couldn't keep the panic at bay. It came out in full force, along with tears and desperate squeezing.
"No no no. Rex. Wake up, Rex. Please. You can rest soon but we have to leave first. Okay? We have to go now. Please."
You didn't know what to do beyond pleading and shaking him. He couldn't slip away now, not when you'd just gotten here. A part of you had hoped that maybe, just by seeing you, his spirits would lift. That you would be that little kickstart to his heart that'd help him keep going. But sadly, it seemed your fantasies of him returning your affections were only that. In reality, you could have been anybody coming to his rescue, and you'd be too late either way.
No. You shook yourself now. No, it didn't matter how he felt or didn't feel. You loved him. That fire in your heart was still burning, and you were going to get him out of here alive.
You carefully but swiftly got your legs back under you, still keeping Rex's body supported as you maneuvered each other into the right position. You weren't a soldier. You didn't have the same build as the clones. But damn if you weren't just as determined and capable. So with a deep, steadying breath, you heaved his body across your back. One of your arms wrapped around his closest leg, keeping it tight against your side as you reached across to grab at his arm. He was heavy, but secure, and you knew you could carry him this way for as long as it'd take to escape. And as an added bonus, you'd heard a soft grunt from him as he'd bent over your shoulders. He was still alive.
You wasted no time standing around with the extra weight. You were back out the door and heading down the stairs faster than you could register. One hand running along the wall for balance and the other firmly grasped on Rex's forearm. Your thighs had done the most work to get you up the stairs; now it was your knees taking the brunt of effort going down. In your mind you alternated between prayers for your joints and prayers for Rex's life.
The sounds of your steps were drowned by the reverberating sounds of combat. The echoes made it hard to tell their distance away as you continued your descent. You braced yourself for the inevitable, feeling more and more grateful the further you went without sight of any blaster fire. You estimated only a quarter of the way left by the time you met some of the carnage on the stairs. Sizzling metal and blaster marks on the walls. It was another several of floors of picking your way between it all before you then came across Kix and Anakin. They'd made good progress pushing the onslaught back.
You hovered just beyond their reach so as to keep Rex away from the crossfire. Anakin's lightsaber did most of the work to keep the enemy at a distance, though occasionally a shot would ricochet onto the wall by your head. But slowly and surely, you were all able to make it down to the next step. Lower and lower. Closer and closer to the end.
Eventually Kix was able to pause in his help and scurry up to check on Rex. He nodded at you when he confirmed a pulse but was just as unsuccessful as you in his efforts to get the Captain to wake.
"Dehydration, possible blood loss from these wounds here," the medic chattered, more to himself than anyone, as he dug through his pack. He tore open a bacta patch and slapped it across an oozing mess of scabs on Rex's shoulder and then handed you a stim while he continued to rummage.
You jabbed the stim into the back of Rex's thigh, thrilled that you managed to elicit another groan from him. Any sign of life was a good one at this point.
"Need me to take over?" Kix asked once he'd found a breathing mask and stood back up. You shook your head, already heading back down the stairs. Anakin had managed to get through a good amount more of the droids. Kix shrugged and then rushed ahead to continue laying down blaster fire.
The fight to escape took far longer than anyone would have wanted. Even once you'd made it out of the stuffy tower, there was the maze of hallways to run back through, and more enemies to fight along the way. All hopes of a stealthy rescue were long gone. It made you nervous, wondering if you'd be able to make it out at all, at this point. The further you moved into the open, the harder it was to keep fighting. If you were lucky enough to make it outside the fortress of droids, then you'd be surrounded by a storm. You were but a Jedi, a medic, and a civilian staff member carrying a near-unconscious soldier. The path forward was looking rather grim.
You eventually got yourselves into what seemed to be a supply closet. You knew there was a service door leading outside down one end of the hall, and the front entrance to the fortress itself was only around another corner as well. But you were flanked by droids on either side. Anakin kept the door to the closet open so he could continue to pick off the droids, while you were finally able to take a break from carrying Rex as Kix more properly tended to some of his injuries.
"How's he looking?" Anakin asked over his shoulder. He wasn't sure what he wanted the answer to be. He was glad Rex was alive, but they were all running out of options. From his estimates, they'd either need to surrender and think through a better escape plan later, or barrel forward with a Hail Mary and hope for the best. Either option would be difficult with Rex in this state. If he was getting worse... if he wasn't going to make it... Anakin shuddered at the thought of having to make that call.
Kix didn't immediately answer. He'd removed the breathing mask which seemed to have sparked some energy back into Rex. He was groaning and huffing, clutching at his midsection and rolling his head back and forth restlessly. Kix tried getting his attention but the Captain only continued to fidget and groan.
"Was he like this when you found him?" Kix asked you.
"No, he was quieter. He knew who I was, though."
Kix motioned for you to come closer. "See if he'll respond to you again."
"Rex." You quickly saddled up by his side, ignoring the pain in your back and legs from crouching. "Rex, look at me. It's okay. Just breathe. You'll be okay."
Surprisingly, your voice seemed to work. Rex stilled, turning his head toward the sound. That weird little smile crept back on his face.
"Rex?"
He responded with your name, small and rasping, but clear all the same. You couldn't help but smile in return.
"Oh good, you are awake enough."
With lightning speed, Kix was back in view with a vial of... something. He tipped it into Rex's mouth and held his hand over to keep the Captain from spitting it back out. Rex sputtered and writhed against Kix's hand but eventually swallowed the liquid down with a hard, painful gulp. Rex's eyes had shot open in the process. They were red, but alert.
"It's okay," you tried soothing again. Rex relaxed against the wall he was propped against and locked his eyes with yours.
"You... came... for me?" he croaked out.
You nodded. For a second, you could have sworn tears were brimming in Rex's eyes. Maybe it was only the medicine.
"Hate to ruin the moment," Anakin called back out. The blaster fire from the hall had grown louder, closer. "But we're out of time here. Kix, anything in this closet we can fashion into a grenade?"
The medic scrambled up to look amongst the shelves.
"Rex, you able to stand? I need you both shooting blasters if you can manage it."
"I will try."
Rex was already trying to push himself off the wall. You wrapped an arm around his back and help hoist him up. His legs shook wildly from the sudden weight. You kept him leaning against you, one arm over your shoulder.
"It's okay, I've got you."
Rex smiled down at you, far too softly for what the situation allowed. You held his gaze with surprise.
Kix was pouring random bottles into each other, hoping they'd make the desired effect. Anakin was cursing as the droids drew nearer. Rex seemed to be trying to tell you something with his eyes. And just when you were about to suggest looking into the air vent situation of this place, there came a large and reverberating kaboom.
You all froze. Including the droids, who then appeared to have been given new orders as they neatly turned in the opposite direction and marched away. Something had happened by the entrance. After a few moments, you could hear their blasters firing again, along with the sounds of other weapons. Familiar weapons. Anakin grinned.
"Obi-Wan," he said before running after them.
You could've cried. Instead, you looked back up at Rex and smiled.
"Ready to go home?"
- - -
You hadn't left Rex's side for a second, much to Kix's chagrin. It was that much harder to heal a battered brother with a stubborn civvy sitting in the way. But, despite his many grumbling complaints, he still let you stay. He knew your heart. And Rex's. It'd be best for both of you to keep close, until you knew each other's.
Though when Rex did wake, you could barely get out one tearfully happy hello before seemingly everyone else on base came to his side, too.
"Thank the gods you're alive!"
"Glad you're okay, brother."
"Good to have you back."
"Can't keep a good man down."
Rex appreciated their words, he really did. He tried not to notice how silent you'd fallen amongst them. It was your words he wanted to hear most.
"How did we get out of there?" he instead asked Anakin. He remembered waking in a dark room, Kix shoving something down his throat, your voice as you sweetly called his name. Beyond that was a blur. He was pretty sure he'd passed out once he tried walking.
"I kept think about the storm," Ahsoka was the one to answer instead. "And how it would give them cover getting to the fortress. And then I thought if they happened to get caught, that'd provide just enough distraction for us to start with a good attack."
"And by us, she of course means the 212th," smirked Cody. Obi-Wan was busy sending word back to Coruscant on the mission, though they all owed it to the Jedi's decision to go looking for General Skywalker and the missing 501st. Without the added reinforcements, Ahsoka's plan wouldn't have stood a chance.
"We're just really glad you're alive, Rex," Ahsoka said softly.
"Yeah, we don't know what we would have done without you," said Anakin, though he was looking toward you as he said it. Everyone else followed his gaze, causing you to blush at the sudden attention.
"They carried you the whole way, you know," Anakin added, now directed toward Rex.
Rex's eyes grew wide, impressed.
"Don't you remember?" prompted Kix.
"I... remember you finding me," Rex told you. "In that cell. I remember feeling hope again."
Your ears were still hot from Anakin's obvious insinuations of your feelings, and now everyone was giving each other looks at Rex's words. You decided to deflect with some humor.
"Right before you tried to cop a feel," you smirked.
That did the trick. A chorus of salacious oohs and laughter rang through the rank of clones gathered. Fives went up and clapped Rex's shoulder, his bad one. Rex's wincing caused Kix to hastily shoo away Fives and everyone else making a ruckus. You remained, noticing that through it all, Rex had a blush rivaling your own.
"I... I didn't..." he stammered once most of his visitors had disappeared. Anakin gave you one last look before then coaxing Ahsoka to leave as well.
"It's okay," you reassured. "You were out of it."
"No, I wasn't, I... I was..." Rex huffed. He was having a hard time finding the right words. "Never mind, it's silly."
He fell back against the pillows with a sigh. You scooted your stool forward and rested your hands on the bedside.
"Please tell me, Rex. I feel like you've been trying to tell me something ever since I found you. But I was so focused on trying to keep you alive, I didn't understand. I'm sorry."
Rex smiled back at you, encouraged. "It's alright. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I would make it out alive. But I... well... I didn't want to let go without..." He paused, embarrassed again. This was going to sound ridiculous if you didn't feel the same.
"Without...?"
"Without giving you my heart first."
He looked at you hesitantly to find your lips had parted in surprise.
"I know. It was a silly thought--"
"No," you breathed. Your hands now slid from the blanket onto his. The memory of him in your arms, beaten and bruised, using what strength he had left to gesture between his heart and yours... you wished you'd understood then. You'd thought he hadn't cared for you in that way at all.
Rex's eyes watered along with yours as your hands clasped together and a newfound understanding settled in between.
"You can't ever disappear on me like that again," you said with a wobble in your voice. "Anakin's right, I don't know what I would have done without you. I... I love you too much to even think of it."
Rex brought your hands up to meet his lips. He kissed your knuckles softly.
"I love you, too. And... I think I'm going to need to reconsider some things, knowing that you love me back."
He gazed over your clasped hands and met the eyes of Anakin, on the other side of the medbay looking in on the other patients. He wasn't the only injured soldier from the mission. General Skywalker was a good man for checking on them, just as he would do once he could stand on his own feet again. The look he now shared with the Jedi was one of agreement. A lot had changed from this mission, and a lot would need to still change. Love, sometimes, took priority even in war. Anakin knew that better than most.
"I don't want you to--" you started to say as realization dawned. But Rex quickly shook his head.
"We have time to discuss it. Right now, just let me hold you."
You didn't need to be asked twice. Helping him carefully scoot over, you then slipped under the hospital blanket and tucked yourself in at his side. It felt right, like where you were always meant to be.
Your worst nightmare had played out in a harrowing day of panic and fear. And now your greatest dream was nestled at your side, safe and sound and alive. It had been a frightening price to pay, one you hoped you'd never have to spend again, but the heart you now held was surely a worthy reward.
Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93,
Tech goes on an adventure to fix his first bad grade.
Part of my AU "The Batch Family" [Collection Masterlist]
Word count: 2.6k | Batch ages: Teens (14 y/o)
Note: As much as I love the little Batch boys, I'm excited to share more of them as teenagers. There's quite a lot of interesting things that happen in this part of their lives. 👀 Though poor Tech would very much like to skip through this rough time, please.
Tech had a problem. A really big problem.
He paced restlessly throughout his bedroom, stepping around furniture and over piles of laundry out of habit more than attention. He shared a room with Hunter and Wrecker, and it was always in disarray. Every surface littered with the most random objects. Shelves and closets bursting with mysterious clutter. Echo and Crosshair had refused to deal with their mess a long time ago and now happily roomed on the other side of the wall with their crisply-made beds and labeled sock drawers.
Wrecker snored loudly from his bottom bunk and Hunter's music could be heard faintly through his headphones from the bed above. They never paid Tech any mind as he kept the lights on well past bedtime. So Tech slowly picked his way around the cramped room, lost in deliberation over what to do about his problem.
He had received a bad grade.
His thumbs rubbed over the now-worn essay clutched in his hands. There were still a few weeks left in the semester but some of the classes, like his AP English class, had already graded their final papers. He couldn't bring himself to look at the bright red B- plastered over the top of his essay on To Kill a Mockingbird again. It made him feel like the room was closing in around him every time he looked at it.
He had never in his life received such a low grade before. Well, maybe when he was little. Did that count? He paused his pacing to consider. No, surely grades didn't count that young. But they most certainly counted now. It was only his first semester of freshman year. How had he failed so quickly? This paper would bring down his grade for the class... his whole GPA. Oh he felt sick to his stomach.
He rushed over to his desk chair and sat down heavily, letting the essay fall to the floor while he rubbed his hands along his legs. His left leg ached under his ministrations but he couldn't seem to stop.
"Still hurts, huh?"
Crosshair was leaning against the doorway, munching on some salami. He was the other night owl of the family.
Tech couldn't look at him. He balled his fists into his lap and tried to focus back on formulating a plan to get out of this mess. There had to be a way he could convince his teacher to reconsider.
Crosshair picked up on the anxious energy and stepped into the room. A paper with an unmistakable red letter lay at his brother's feet. Crosshair stooped to pick it up.
"Well-written, but interpretations were too literal," he read off the handwritten note. "Focus on applying key concepts learned in class next semester."
Crosshair glanced down at Tech, who looked like he might vomit or cry. Or worse, both. He knew better than to tease Tech about it; the guy had had a rough start to his freshman year and had still taken the time to help the rest of them with their weak subjects.
He made a show of reading more on the paper, even though there wasn't anything further. "Hm, it also says... You're actually the best student I've ever had but I had to give you a B so my other loser students don't feel bad."
Tech rolled his eyes but Crosshair saw the small twitch at the corners of his mouth all the same. Satisfied, he tossed the paper onto the nearest stack of crap and pulled another swivel chair over to sit next to Tech. He offered him a slice of salami. Tech shook his head and Crosshair shrugged, popping it in his mouth instead.
"I don't get it," Tech lamented quietly. "I thought that's the whole point of an interpretation. It's how you personally see something. I didn't think there was a right or wrong way to read a story."
Crosshair silently chewed while Tech ranted on.
"And I did apply the key concepts. I highlighted the literary devices used, the themes, the context of the time it was written. I met the format requirements and I used proper grammar. You should've seen some of the other essays we had to peer-review. Wrecker's written better stuff than some of them. How in the world they ended up in an AP class...."
Tech let out a frustrated huff and started rubbing at his thighs again. Crosshair put his hand in the way over his left leg so he couldn't aggravate the still-healing injury further.
"It's just a grade," he tried saying, even though he knew Tech wouldn't agree. "And it's not even that bad."
"Not that bad?" Tech stood up more forcefully than he should have. Crosshair noticed his subtle shift in weight to his right leg. "Look, I know these things don't matter to any of you, but I need a perfect GPA. The colleges I want to go to, they're not cheap. And Mom...."
He trailed off with a sigh but he didn't need to finish the thought. Crosshair understood.
"I need to make it work myself," Tech said more quietly. "But now... I can write every paper perfectly for the rest of high school and it won't even matter because I screwed it up right in the beginning."
Tech hung his head and Crosshair cocked his. After a moment, he stood to face him with folded arms and a determined look set in his eyes. He and Wrecker were already several inches taller than the rest of them, though Crosshair was significantly lankier. Tech often wondered if Wrecker had stolen some nutrients from him in utero.
"Do you think your teacher was wrong?"
"Well, I mean, it's their opinion, just like it was my opinion--"
"Do you think," Crosshair repeated more forcefully, "that your teacher was wrong? That you truly deserved a better grade?"
Tech thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yes. I deserved a better grade."
Crosshair let his arms fall. "Alright then. Let's get you a better grade. Grab a coat."
He slipped between Tech and the dresser to get over to the window. Tech frowned as he watched him quietly open it and pop out the screen.
"What--"
"Coat," hissed Crosshair as he stepped through.
As if to accentuate his point, a wave of chilly December night air fluttered in, rippling the curtains and causing Tech to involuntarily shiver. From the other side of the room, Wrecker gave out a strained snore.
"And preferably before Hunter notices," Crosshair urged him further.
Tech had never snuck out before. He knew Crosshair did, usually using his bedroom as the passage so Echo wouldn't rat him out. Sometimes even Hunter would, though he never liked it when his brothers went somewhere without him. Tech didn't care much what any of them got up to. He'd only tell if Mom asked, and if he'd happened to even notice in the first place.
He wasn't sure what Crosshair's plan was but he knew it wasn't worth debating right here in the open window. So he grabbed his coat and hurried through. Crosshair expertly closed the window and replaced the screen, and then set off at a brisk pace down the side of the house. Tech followed behind. They stopped briefly at the garage, where Crosshair pulled out a coat of his own hiding behind boxes of seasonal decorations.
"My spare," Crosshair explained as he shrugged it on. "So no one sees a missing coat inside."
Tech nodded, impressed.
They slipped through the gate, which was rarely ever locked, and out into the neighborhood. Tech noted they were heading in the direction of the high school.
"I don't know what you think we can do about this at--," Tech referenced his watch, "eleven p.m. on a Tuesday. It's not like the teachers live at school."
He was still thinking the only way forward was through a persuasive conversation with his teacher. He'd already composed a few introductory statements in his head.
"Eleven, you say?" Crosshair ignored Tech's questions. "How's your leg? We'll have to take the long way around to avoid the security guard. He'll be in the gym parking lot."
Tech didn't ask how he could possibly know such a thing this soon into high school.
"It's... fine," Tech partially lied. The cold air seemed to be making it feel stiffer than usual. Keeping up with his brother's long strides also didn't help.
Crosshair took them through a neighborhood that wrapped around the back of the school. Tech tried to talk some sense into him, finally having guessed at what he planned to do. Though, notably, Tech's protests did not stop him from following along anyway.
"It wouldn't be right."
"God, you sound like Echo."
"I wouldn't have earned it."
"But you should have. You said so."
"Well..." Tech faltered for another argument and found he didn't have any.
"You can't let one lousy teacher..." Crosshair's voice trailed off as he noticed something up ahead. Tech though he heard him swear under his breath.
"Hey! What are you guys up to?"
They were passing by Rex's house. Crosshair hadn't considered that in his plan. And of course he just happened to be outside tonight, with his little sister, Ahsoka. It looked like she was helping catch his basketball as he practiced free throws.
"You're just... out for a walk?" Rex asked.
"Part of his therapy," Crosshair growled out.
Rex's eyes narrowed in return. "Kinda late, isn't it?"
"I could ask you the same."
Rex had never gotten along with Crosshair. He was more Echo and Hunter's friend. He scowled at the skinny boy, trying to figure him out. He never could.
"No Hunter?" Ahsoka's voice cut through the awkward tension. The twelve-year-old thought Hunter was the coolest boy ever. It was very annoying.
"He's asleep," said Tech. Rex looked over at him as if he'd just noticed he was there. Tech gulped and then tugged at his brother's sleeve, eager to avoid things escalating. "Come on, Cross. Let's go."
Crosshair reluctantly peeled away. Rex watched as the two odd Batch brothers walked down the rest of the street and turned the corner.
The school was only another corner away. They quickly crossed the faculty parking lot and snaked through the various buildings. Tech noticed how Crosshair stuck to the shadows, where the dim pools of nighttime lights didn't reach. He followed in kind.
When they finally came upon the administration building, Tech's leg was really starting to hurt. He leaned against the wall while Crosshair picked at the lock.
"I don't know about this, Cross," Tech started to whine again. His stomach still felt as twisted up as it had when he'd been back in his room with that darn paper.
"What don't you know?"
Crosshair got the door unlocked surprisingly fast and slipped inside just as an alarm let out a loud set of pips. He dashed to the alarm box just behind the front desk and punched in a code. Even in the darkness of the room, Tech could tell what it was. He mentally logged the information for future use.
"I don't know if... if I..." Tech stuttered, closing the door quietly behind him. Crosshair was leaning over a computer. Blue light lit up his face like a ghost as he booted it up. "I don't know if I deserve this."
Crosshair's eyes flitted over to his, a prominent crease in between them.
"What do you mean? Of course you do. You said--"
"I know what I said but it's... it's not just about this paper." Tech sighed and collapsed into the chair beside him. "I got an A minus in Algebra. Algebra. I could do those equations in my sleep but I missed one question on the test and...."
He sighed again. He wrapped his arms around his queasy stomach and stared into the light of the computer. Crosshair turned around and rested against the edge of the desk.
"I couldn't play soccer this year. I didn't make any friends. Most nights I can't fall asleep until I literally pass out. Meanwhile, you all are doing just fine. I mean, look at you. Sneaking out and picking locks and things. Everything comes naturally to you. You're so..."
There were a dozen words he wanted to say, to show how much he admired Crosshair, but he panicked when he looked up at his brother's confused face and settled for a lesser, though still true, adjective.
"Calm."
Crosshair snorted.
"You have no idea what it's been like for me," he said in a low voice. He didn't elaborate and Tech knew better than to pry. Just hearing the implication was enough for Tech to confidently abandon that line of thought. He didn't need to compare himself to others.
"Well, anyway, it's been tough for me, is all I'm saying. High school is a lot harder than I thought it'd be."
He could sense Crosshair was about to speak so he quickly help up his hand.
"And don't say anything about my leg. Please. I know. It held me back."
"Actually, it didn't. If anything, it gave you a leg up. If you can suffer through something like that and still get A's and B's? Then you can do anything. And if you really can't manage, well then there's no hope for the rest of us."
Tech mulled over his words, finding it a little easier to breathe as he did so.
"What, no praise for my pun skills?"
Tech smirked. "Yeah, that was a good pun."
"Thanks. I've been holding onto that one for months." Crosshair pushed off the desk. "Oh and also? High school's not hard. It just sucks."
Tech laughed. It wasn't even that funny of a comment so it must have been his inner relief causing him to let out a few chuckles. Crosshair turned back to the computer to click on a few things that looked promising.
"You can hack this stuff, right?" he asked. When Tech didn't answer or make any moves closer, he warily looked over.
"There's nothing to hack," said Tech. He'd been able to let go of his stomach and was picking at one of his nails.
Crosshair stood. "What?"
"They won't actually put our grades in the system until the break. In case there's any make-up exams or extra credit projects, stuff like that."
Crosshair blinked down at him incredulously. "What... You... Then why did you come?"
Tech gave a sheepish smile and a shrug. "Thought maybe it'd help distract me from having a panic attack?"
Crosshair groaned, sitting back on the desk with a shake of his head.
"Besides, now I know how to break into the school if I ever need to. You wouldn't have shown me if I'd asked."
"Oh, don't pretend you had a whole plan," Crosshair swatted a hand toward him, though it only fell into the empty space between them. Tech could tell he wasn't too mad but he decided to try and smooth some feathers anyway.
"Thank you, Cross," he said with a small smile. "High school does suck, but... at least I've got you."
Never one to fully lean into a heart-to-heart moment, Crosshair only rolled his eyes and stood up.
"Yeah, yeah, love you too. Whatever. Let's get out of here. Security guard will be heading to the back now so we can go out the front."
Tech shut down the computer and Crosshair reset the alarm. The door wouldn't be locked but the morning janitors weren't likely to say anything, chalking it up to the ever-forgetful night crew.
"Maybe we should go for nightly walks a few more times," Tech suggested as he fell into step with Crosshair. "So Rex doesn't get suspicious."
"Pft. Who cares what he thinks."
"He'll say something to Echo. And then Echo will tell Mom."
"You worry too much. No wonder you don't have any friends."
Tech elbowed him away. "Rude."
Crosshair chuckled and draped an arm over Tech, bringing him in close as they crossed the empty parking lot and headed back home from their adventure.
Every Story Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @sleepycreativewriter, @cw80831, @cdblake1565
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@flowered-bicycles, @techie-bear, @skellymom
Cannot tag (please update your blog settings to allow tagging or notify me of a name change): @the-stars-ar3-with-us, @horoscope-misreader96
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🌙 Master List of Master Lists | ⚽️ The Batch Family Master List
Trying out a type of poll, let's see how this goes...
I'll pick two characters at (somewhat) random and you decide how to ship them! 💕 Answer solely on your own feelings, not necessarily what may be in canon.
Hunter and Cobb Vanth
They're besties
They're star-crossed lovers
They're bitter exes
They're petty neighbors
They're coworkers
They're found family
They're sworn enemies
They're in a relationship. Not sure what kind, but they're in one.
Voting ended onJan 14, 2025
Let me know if you like this style of poll and I'll keep it going. And maybe I'll write a little something for the winning vote 👀
I started to write a little something, and then it turned into a lotta something...
It started with a bandana.
They'd been cordial enough at first. Nods, salutes, casual comments about the weather, that sort of thing. But Cobb was a bachelor, and Hunter had Omega, and they both were busy acclimating to their new homes, so the pleasantries often stopped at the fence line.
Until one day, Cobb wore a bandana.
Hunter frowned from the driveway, trying to sneak glances as he washed the speeder. Cobb gave a half-wave as he fished out his mail from the box, as if everything was normal. As if red bandanas were now his thing, too. He didn't even have hair to hold back, Hunter thought grumpily.
The next day, Hunter wore a scarf.
Cobb looked out his front window as he often did in the evenings, watching children return home from school and parents home from work, keeping an eye on the happenings of the neighborhood. Hunter walked by with Omega, a bunch of red fabric wrapped lazily around his neck. Cobb's eyes narrowed. He'd thought Hunter's bandana was cool, a great way to keep the heat of summer from dripping down his forehead. But his neighbor seemed to be copying him now. And pulling it off rather well, to Cobb's chagrin. Why did this clone have to look good in everything?
And so Cobb started wearing his gun holster. The one that hung low on one side and made the ladies swoon. Blasters weren't needed much on this peaceful planet, but he made sure to have it on when he knew Hunter would be out.
Hunter already packed concealed knives on his person, so he then started taking them out whenever he was in the yard, even if it compromised the point of them being concealed. He twirled the vibroblades and even conceded to giving Omega some throwing lessons. It was icing on the cake when she overshot into Cobb's yard and he got to explain to his odd neighbor all about the skills he was teaching her.
Cobb knew he should be more discrete with his own effects, but after that play with the knife, he had no choice but to break out his jet pack. He invited some townsfolk over for a demonstration, making sure to project his voice as he explained the fine Mandalorian craftsmanship. He could almost feel Hunter stewing as he mowed the lawn next door.
Eventually their tit-for-tat grew outside of clothing and gear. Hunter wasn't planning on doing much with the yard outside of general maintenance, but once Cobb planted a garden in his, he then spent the rest of the summer re-landscaping the whole thing. Cobb hadn't been interested in vehicles much before, but as soon as Hunter pulled up in a sleek new speeder bike, he was on the holonet researching boats. When Cobb became head of the volunteer fire department, Hunter started a volunteer search-and-rescue team. When Hunter threw Omega a party, Cobb threw one for the mayor.
It all finally came to a head one day when Hunter saw Cobb with a girl. His girl. Well, he hadn't asked her out yet, but he'd been working up the courage all month. And now Cobb had his arm around her at the local pub and Hunter was seeing red. He marched all the way home, grabbed Wrecker, and immediately got to work ripping out the large tree in between their two properties. While the tree was technically on Hunter's side, it provided a great deal of shade over Cobb's house during the hot summer afternoons. But not any more. Hunter worked late into the evening chopping the thing right at the trunk, fueled on by unpleasant images of Cobb and his crush as the night drew on.
When Cobb finally returned home just after midnight, the man stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Hunter stooped over a pile of chopped wood where his favorite tree used to stand.
"Uh... Hunter? What're you doing buddy?" he asked, slowly walking over as if he were approaching a wild animal.
Hunter's eye twitched at the drawling, condescending voice. He stood confidently and looked at the man square on.
"The roots were growing under my house," he stated in his Sergeant voice. "I couldn't risk a cracked foundation."
Cobb looked around in bafflement. "And I can't risk taxing the power grid more because I've lost my only source of shade."
"Sounds like your problem." Hunter hefted up the axe, preparing to chop the last of the stump.
"My problem?" Cobb almost spewed. "You've been creating my problems all year, son."
"I'm not your son. Or your buddy."
"No, you're right, I'm your neighbor. And this is not a neighborly thing to do."
Cobb stepped closer so Hunter could clearly see the anger on his face, even though Hunter could sense it perfectly fine.
"You don't hear me complaining when you play your jazz music loudly every Friday," said Hunter.
"Probably because you can't really hear it over the sound of your barking hound," Cobb retorted. "I mean honestly, would it kill you to take that thing on a walk every now and then?"
"Would it kill you to keep your windows closed every time you fry up bacon?" Hunter growled.
"Oh, oh the smell of bacon bothers you, does it? How about the smell of whatever rotten pile of shit your brother experiments with in the garage, huh? What about that smell?"
And so the two squabbled, on and on. Hunter's axe was abandoned on the tree stump in favor of crossing his arms defiantly across his chest, while Cobb's rested sternly on his skinny hips. Some of the neighbors who could overhear, including Hunter's family just behind the wall a few feet away, contemplated intervening but ultimately decided against it. They'd been witness to every spiteful attempt at besting each other over the months and were tired of getting caught in the mix of it. Those two petty cowboys could work it out themselves.
"You shouldn't have worn my scarf!" Cobb eventually spat. He hated admitting that was what this rivalry had all boiled down to for him, that he was jealous of Hunter looking so young and effortlessly hip, while he had to confront his unwelcome age and resulting loneliness in the mirror every day. But, Cobb knew that by conceding that point he could win the whole argument, as Hunter would then have to admit he'd been jealous about Cobb wearing his style of bandana in the first place.
But surprisingly, Hunter said something completely unexpected. "And you shouldn't have stolen my girl!"
Cobb paused in confusion. "Your girl?"
Hunter looked pissed as he growled out. "The new girl. You knew I liked her, so you went and put your paws all over her tonight."
As realization dawned on Cobb, he huffed out a laugh. And then another. And then his hands slid from his waist to rest on his knees as he doubled over. Hunter glared even harder.
"You... you mean... my sister?" he finally got out between laughs.
Now it was Hunter's turn to be confused.
"Uh huh," Cobb nodded in amusement. "That girl I was with at the pub was my sister. And I did not have my paws all over her. Maybe a hug or a playful swat. She's my baby sister. You know."
Hunter still seemed uncertain. "If she's your sister, why don't I ever see her over here?"
"Because she's the better cook?" Cobb shrugged. "And her new place is kind of a dump so I've been helping her fix it up. That's why I got that new tool chest the other week. Another thing you had to copy from me."
Cobb offered a smirk to show he was only half-annoyed. Maybe the other half found the situation kind of funny.
Hunter let his arms fall from his chest as he accepted this new information. So the new girl, his crush, was Cobb's sister.... Well that certainly complicated things. Not to mention the destruction of tree trunks and branches he was surrounded by. He looked around at his handiwork, maybe kind of regretting his hasty retaliation now.
"You're right," Hunter grunted out, reluctantly, but feeling a little better at the admission. "This wasn't very neighborly of me. I should've talked to you about it first."
Cobb seemed to relax a bit more too. "Eh, it's alright. I clearly started this mess, feelin' all jealous. I shouldn't've acted so immature about it."
He chuckled sheepishly and Hunter let out a few of his own awkward snickers.
"I'll uh, I'll make sure Omega takes Batcher on more walks."
"And I'll shut the windows on bacon day," Cobb smirked.
The two started gingerly picking their way out of the pile of wood, walking just close enough together to call it a truce. Cobb wanted to sling an arm around the clone's shoulder but decided not to press his luck.
"Hey, maybe you'd like to bring Omega out on my boat some time?" he offered instead, sporting a genuine smile.
Hunter's smile grew to match. "Yeah, that'd be great, she'd really like that."
And he would, too, he secretly thought. For as much as he and his brothers were involved in bettering the community, he never really took the time to hang out with anyone. Maybe this quirky neighbor of his would make a good friend. Especially if he planned on getting close to his family anyway.
"And maybe you can invite your sister?"
Cobb's smile immediately vanished.
"Oh, you're not getting anywhere near my sister, bub," Cobb said with a hard edge to his voice. "Not on my watch."
And with that, he marched inside while Hunter stomped back to his, both men clenching their jaws and muttering annoyances under their breaths.
Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93,
Cannot tag (please update your blog settings to allow tagging or notify me of a name change): @severalseashellsbytheseashore, @the-stars-ar3-with-us, @horoscope-misreader96
The boys are determined to see their New Year's resolution through.
Part of my AU "The Batch Family" [Collection Masterlist]
Word count: 2k | Batch ages: Kids (10 y/o)
Note: I'm finally back to writing for this AU! Consider this my New Year's resolution, to write as much as possible for these boys. <3
A line of ten-year-old boys marched purposefully down the dirt path, in the same order they often found themselves in. Hunter, the leader, always setting the course and assuming the others would follow. Making sure they did was Echo, the trusted number two. Tech and Wrecker were often interchanged in the middle, depending on who got the most distracted along the way. And at the rear, Crosshair, keeping an eye on everything.
Today, they were on a mission. It was a new year and they had just learned about the concept of setting resolutions. Things they wanted to accomplish in the new year. Their mom had suggested things like winning a soccer game or keeping their rooms clean. But there was one task Hunter had his sights on, and after an animated 5-minute speech in the living room, his brothers were all on board as well. They had to have a treehouse.
Well, it would be more of a house on the ground next to a tree. But being only 10 and having no father to help safely construct something so high, they'd have to make do. And the Batch boys were nothing if not resourceful.
Their first step was to get some inspiration. They needed to check out a few other treehouses first, starting with Waxer and Boil's.
The Kenobi house was modest but its yard was massive. The backyard was seemingly always under construction. It'd started with an extended patio, then came along a pool, and most recently a small putting green got added. Obi-Wan had his vegetable garden in the corner and kept talking about adding a chicken coop. And somehow there was still land to spare for more of their dreams and tinkering.
In the front, the ground rolled and dipped for several car lengths from the road to the door, and it had towering pine trees that provided plenty of shade. It was between three of these pines that Cody had built a sizable treehouse for his sons just a couple years prior. Their friends' parents heard about nothing else all summer.
Now the house mostly went unused, save for a few random playdates with friends who still found it cool. Hunter was one such friend. His imagination ran wild every time they were invited over. And oftentimes he found himself longing for one as he spun up adventures in his own yard. He'd even put it on his Christmas list but all he'd gotten were socks and LEGOs. Well, he supposed he was grateful for the LEGOs. But he still wanted his treehouse.
Hunter gathered his brothers in a half circle around the pine trees at Waxer and Boil's house and stared up at the real-life example. Normally they'd gaze at it in awe and wonder, but today their eyes narrowed in analysis. How was it put together? What did they like or not like? Was there any way to replicate it on the ground and still have it look cool?
"Whatcha doin?" came Waxer's voice from the front door. He'd noticed them through the window and came shuffling out, still in his pj's and munching on some sort of candy. The break from Christmas through New Year's was the only time his dads let nutrition and routine slide.
"We're gonna build a treehouse," said Hunter matter-of-factly.
They all continued to stare up at the thing, the only sounds coming from Waxer's snacks.
"Wait, so what are we doing?" asked Wrecker, never one to sit in silence long.
That got the ball rolling. Hunter directed Tech to take notes as he and Crosshair circled the trees, calling out things they noticed. It was made out of wood. It had windows on all sides. The roof was flat, which didn't really look like a house. They'd want one of those pointy roofs for theirs, especially if they grew tall one day. Eventually Wrecker was allowed to climb up into it with Waxer and start describing the inside for them. Since the house was wrapped around the trees, there wasn't much room on the floor to move about. Hunter recalled the last time they were all up there, seven of them, and it was pretty cramped.
"But we won't have trees," Echo pointed out.
Hunter nodded seriously. "Okay, so it can be the same size. Waxer, what's the size?"
The boy clambered down one of the tree ladders and landed with a shrug. "I dunno."
"Can you ask your dads? We need it exact."
"Ooh, maybe I can Google it!" said Tech, who finally looked up from his notebook. Their mom was allowing some supervised computer time later in the week to look up information on treehouses, and Tech was very eager to come up with things to Google.
"Sure, add it to your Google list."
Tech swiped through his notebook and scribbled Size underneath the only other item on the Google list so far: floor plan. What shape it could be and where to put things. His mom had helped him with that one.
"That means we'll need a door," said Crosshair. He was holding onto Waxer's bag of candy while he ran inside and not-so-subtly sneaking a few pieces for himself.
Tech flipped back to the other page to scribble Need a door.
The Kenobi's front door reopened and out strode Cody. He, too, was still in pajama pants and slippers, a rare sight for the otherwise disciplined man.
"So, what's this I hear about you boys building a treehouse?" He settled next to them with hands on his hips and an easygoing smile. He'd always been fond of Bethany and her boys. He just wished she'd let him help out more. Maybe now was his chance.
"It's our rez-oh-loo-shun." Wrecker over-pronounced the word to get it right. He'd been practicing all morning, tired of Tech correcting him.
"We're going to build it on the ground," explained Hunter. "Mom said we could put it by the tree in the backyard."
There were several trees in their backyard, but Hunter had already taken to thinking of the one in the corner as the tree, the treehouse tree.
"Ah, that's quite the ambitious resolution," smiled Cody. "Need any help? I've still got a few leftover beams...."
"No thank you. We can do it."
Hunter had a hard time asking for help, and an even harder time accepting it when it was offered. Especially when it was for something like this, something that any other kid would have their dad to go to. Their mom did as much as she could for them but certain things were out of her wheelhouse and she always felt bad about it. And Hunter could always sense her sadness. If it was something Mom couldn't do, then they would figure it out and do it themselves. That's just how it worked.
Cody frowned in thought. He'd have to get crafty here. "Hm. Well, do you have any tools?"
Hunter shook his head, and behind him Tech scribbled Need tools.
"Hardware?"
Again, a shake of the head, and a note of Hard wear scribbled down.
"Where are you getting your wood? Personally, I like working with cedar, though you might want to consider a pressure-treated wood if it'll be on the ground. Keep out bugs and that sort of thing. That's what I have on the steps here."
Cody walked over to one of the trees and fondly patted a rung that was screwed into the trunk.
"And then for the roof I went with corrugated galvanized panels. Holds up better under rain. I know it looks pretty flat but I gave it a slight slope and fitted some PVC pipes in the back here to catch the runoff."
Cody walked around and pointed out his handy work with great pride. He missed talking through these details with the other parents; he'd exhausted the conversation long ago.
"Of course, that's just what I did. I'm sure you boys will figure out what works best for your treehouse."
Hunter gulped down the worry that was building in his stomach and Tech had stopped taking notes and even Wrecker and Crosshair pulled their attention away from the candy bag to gape at the amount of foreign information. This was suddenly seeming like a really big project, maybe bigger than they could handle.
Echo went over to Hunter and whispered, "I think he should help us."
Hunter pursed his lips but thought it over. What was it that Ms. Ti was always saying in class? No one can do everything, but everyone can do something. He wasn't sure why he thought about that right now. But now that he had, he knew Echo was right.
"Um, Mr. Cody?" he called out. Cody walked back over to the boys, keeping his expression pleasant and innocent. "Maybe... Maybe you could give us some advice? You know on the wood and the tools and things."
"And the size," added Wrecker.
Tech whined. "But that was on my Google list!"
Cody looked between each of them. They were all very eager, and very proud. He couldn't be the one to take that away from them. The world was bound to push them down one day. They'd need their fun and their victories now while it mattered most.
"I'll tell you what," he decided, putting his hands back on his hips. "You boys finish your research. Figure out how big you want it, where you're going to put it. Maybe draw a picture of what you want it to look like. I'll let you use whatever tools and extra materials I have in my shop. Though, your mom will probably want me handling the table saw."
He could see their eyes light back up again at the proposed arrangement.
"Anything else you need, I suggest you work for it. There'll be plenty of rainstorms this winter and spring. You can clean gutters, rake leaves. Whatever you earn, I'll match the amount to get you the rest of the materials. Oh, and whatever your mother says goes. If she needs you doing chores or homework, the treehouse can wait. Sound good?"
A chorus of Yeah's and Yes sir's echoed throughout the yard as the boys jumped for joy. Hunter, especially, was very excited. He'd thought this trip down the street was a simple recon mission, that they would get their list of to-dos and nothing else. But now they had a deal. Mr. Cody would lend them some tools and money, so long as they earned their share. That sounded fair enough to him. He and his brothers were no strangers to hard work. If they stayed after it, then they could have their treehouse by summer break.
Cody watched in amusement as the Batch boys went back to throwing out ideas again. His own sons were inside, likely playing that new video game they got for Christmas, but they had been out here with him building their own treehouse. They were hard workers, too. Cody knew as well as anyone that families came in all shapes and sizes. He was glad to see these brothers were persevering despite the challenges their family dynamic came with.
Behind him, Obi-Wan had come out to see what the commotion was and rested his chin on his husband's shoulder with a sigh.
"Does this mean I'm not getting my chicken coop this year?"
Cody rolled his eyes. "I can multitask."
Obi-Wan only hummed. He'd believe it when he saw five Rhode Island Reds in his backyard.
When Tech had finished writing down the last of their ideas, Hunter went over to shake Mr. Cody's hand and Crosshair deposited the now-empty bag of candy in Mr. Kenobi's hand. The troop then set off back home, naturally falling into their usual line-up. Hunter, looking at the wide-open world in front of him, keen to take it head on. Echo, peering over Hunter's shoulder just as often as he checked on the brothers behind him. Wrecker, skipping into the footprints of the others in the ground and Tech almost running into him as he read over his notes. And Crosshair, silent but no less engaged, observing everything they did contentedly.
It was going to be a great year.
Every Story Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @sleepycreativewriter, @cw80831, @cdblake1565
The Batch Family Tag: @kaijusplotch, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @techie-bear,
It's been a while since I've been active on here. I didn't mean to disappear; life just happened. So I wanted to take a moment to share what's been going on and what that means for this blog going forward.
Without getting too into it, suffice to say I was in a rut for the last several years. I'd known for a while I needed to make some changes in my life, but it wasn't until this last spring that I finally got myself in a good place to start making them. The two biggest ones were having my tubes removed and moving from California to Tennessee. Both of these experiences were things I chose for myself. One gave me a sense of peace and empowerment; the other gave me a much-needed re-set. And they both showed me who in my life truly cared for and supported me.
My move, especially, took up lots of time as I had to do a lot on my own. And now that I'm here, I find myself using my free time to explore the area, engage in hobbies, and just enjoy the simple things. There's a lovely little park nearby that I love to walk around. My apartment has much more room to play with my cat. I'm in a book club and I try out new coffee spots every weekend and I call my friends more and I wash my face every day.
2025 was my year to reconstruct my life into something I enjoy living every day. 2026 is going to be my year to maintain the momentum and keep doing more of the things I love.
And one thing I do love is writing. It felt weird to set it aside for the past few months, but it was necessary to free up time for everything else. I have every intention of bringing writing back into the daily routine, whether it be fanfiction or original stuff.
When it comes to fanfic, aka this blog, it will look a little different than it has in the past. First, I've decided to no longer accept requests. I've enjoyed fulfilling prompts over the years, but it's also been disappointing to not have requesters engage with something I pour time and passion into. I think it's time I focus more on finishing WIPs and exploring my own ideas. In that vein, I won't participate in events or exchanges either, as I haven't had the best experiences with the last few I've joined. And finally, I'll still be reading fanfic, too, just not as often. So no "morning reblogs" or "done-read lists." I'll read (and reblog of course) whenever I can and that's that.
One thing that won't really be different is my posting frequency... it'll continue to be as sporadic and unpredictable as it's always been 😆 There may be times where all I want to do is write, write, write... and other times when I may be busy doing everything but writing.
I also wanted to say Thank You to those who have continued to interact with my writing even while I've been MIA. My notifications are set to only show comments and reblogs, so rest assured I've seen every interaction even if I haven't acknowledged it. Positive feedback is always appreciated, and it motivates me to want to write more! 💗 So thanks, moots!
And happy new year! May the force be with you.
TL;DR: I had a busy but fulfilling year, put writing on hold but plan to get back soon, will no longer take requests but you can expect continuations of WIPs and new ideas, and I hope you all have a great new year!