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Credit to @zelda-fan-freak for the artwork!

A Bad Batch Fanfiction.

(Tumblr exclusive)

Word Count and Tags: Approx 6k- whump, angst, hurt/comfort, torture- Tech focused

TRIGGER WARNINGS: torture, water-boarding, white room torture, sensory overload, sensory deprivation, anxiety and panic attacks, mentions of blood.

Summary: Day in and day out, cadet Tech finds himself dragged from one miserable experiment to another, at the mercy of Nala Se, with no end in sight. Finally, he starts to break, and all he can do is hope and pray that his brothers will find him and help him...

A/N: This started as a whump fic I was writing for a friend over a year ago for kicks and giggles. I found it in my drafts, changed some things, and... well, here we are... Please note the trigger warnings above! If you like your favorite characters being put through hell unnecessarily... you Tech girlies are in for a treat! 👀 I wanted to get this up earlier, but I've literally been working through a writers block for the past 2 hours. 😵‍💫 PLEASE... SOMEONE PLEASE notice the parallels! I put so much work into them!!! 🥺🥺😭😭

@techs-stitches @nahoney22 @zaya-mo @photogirl894 @girlzrok-99 @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius If anyone would like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

Tech took a deep breath as he finished the calculations on the computer in front of him. He removed his headset and blinked tiredly as Nala Se entered the room, her long arms folded behind her back, her dark eyes boring into him.

“Well done, CT-9903. Your success rate was 100% once again, and in adequate time. As is to be expected.”

“Yes ma’am.” Tech stood at attention, breathing shallowly. He was exhausted. He had been staring at a screen for the past four hours, performing test after test, unable to look away from the computer for fear of getting a low score due to his time. His eyes were killing him, and he hadn’t slept for the past 32 hours. After yesterday’s training sessions, his screen exposure had been so long that it had prevented a good night’s rest. He prayed with all his might that Nala Se would excuse him and let him try and recuperate, but of course, he couldn’t be so lucky.

“Based off of your overwhelming success rate, I’d like to run a few more tests. Being subjected to physical discomforts and hindrances during battle will not be uncommon once you are in the field. Therefore, you must be able to continue putting forth such rates despite those hindrances.”

Tech felt a lump forming in the pit of his stomach. “What kind of hindrances are you proposing, ma’am?”

Nala Se tilted her head, moving over to her computer and tapping a few buttons. “We’ll start with a few simple things. We’ll attempt basic data transfers, simple formulas, and the like, while holding your position under enemy fire. All rounds used will administer a simple shock effect. They will not be lethal or run the risk of damaging you permanently, but they will be enough of an interference. We will move down to Training Deck C for these tests.”

The lump that had been forming in the pit of Tech’s stomach slowly started making its way up his chest. “Yes ma’am.” He turned quickly and headed out of the room, taking quick, shallow breaths. He was tired. He wanted to curl into a ball and sleep- no, cry. It took everything in his power to keep his chin from trembling and hold his composure. If the upcoming training was the simple part, he dreaded to thing what the harder courses would be…

Tech finished the data transfer and calculations just as one final shot hit him squarely in the back, sending another jolt of pain coursing through his system. Had this been a real attack, he’d have been dead ages ago, but sheer willpower had helped him pull through. The shots weren’t nearly as ‘harmless’ as Nala Se had implied. Each one felt like a slightly weaker baton shock, and made his muscles go slack and his nerves go haywire. He wanted so badly to give into the pain, to just shut his eyes and use the attacks as a viable reason for blacking out and let sleep finally take him. But if he did that, he knew for certain that any future tasks would only be that much harder, and that much more painful.

With trembling legs, he rose from the ground as the training room doors opened and Nala Se entered.

“It seems that this session did not go to plan as desired. Had you not completed your task when you did, you likely would have suffered a loss of consciousness rather soon.”

Tech looked forlornly at the floor, hands at his side. He picked worriedly at the hem of his uniform, biting his lip.

“Still, you completed the task. You would have died, of course, had those been live rounds, but the important thing is that you were able to complete your mental tasks despite physical interference. You will be able to rely on your fellow clones in battle and will likely have little chance to be put in such a precise scenario. Now, onto the next task.”

Tech followed her out the door, the lump that had been in his chest quickly making its way up to his throat as he recognized which direction they were going. He almost stopped directly in the middle of the corridor, contemplating how much trouble he was willing to get into if it meant not going another step. But he couldn’t stop. As much as all of this was going to hurt, who knew what Nala Se would do if he didn’t comply…

The lab they entered was exactly as it was the last time Tech was there. He could practically close his eyes and point out every detail in the room, he had memorized it so well. On the far wall was a line of shelves, with hundreds of different vials and containers. On the right wall was a large computer, and on the left wall, a metal counter, with various… tools. Some were harmless: scanners, hookups for the computer to record vitals… Others, not so harmless. There were a number of small scalpels, plyers, and other sharp instruments in numerous sizes, all neatly organized and in perfect view.

And lastly, in the very center of the room, was a long, metal table. Attached to the table were multiple straps, all of which were adjustable according to the user’s desires.

“Take a seat, CT-9903.”

Tech felt rooted in place. He hadn’t even come through the doorway yet, he wanted out of that room so badly. ‘It’s okay’ he thought. ‘It’s nothing you haven’t been through before. You can do this…’ He took unsteady steps towards the table, slowly hoisting himself up onto the surface and taking a seat, his stomach twisted into a giant knot, the muscles contracting in such a way, he knew he ran the risk of throwing up what little his stomach contained, and probably dry-heaving long after. With a desperate gasp of air, he tried pulling himself together, removing his goggles and lying on his back at Nala Se’s command.

“Being subjected to various forms of torture will not be uncommon, especially since your squad will be a designated special unit, resulting in far more perilous missions. You must be able to function at full mental capacity after being exposed to such methods. You’ve run such tests before, so you know what is required to pass. Let’s hope you’re able to succeed this time, where before you failed.”

Tech nodded slowly, wincing as Nala Se’s assistant droid rolled up his left sleeve and inserted a long cold needle into his arm. It emptied the syringe before discarding it and attached the table’s restraints to Tech’s wrists and ankles. He took a deep breath as he felt himself grow dizzy.

It felt as though he was slowly spinning…

Falling…

Like the table beneath him was no longer there, and at any moment, he would plummet to the ground below. He knew it was just the drug, but it felt real none the less, and it did nothing to help his already churning stomach.

His breathing quickened, though he struggled to slow it, as the droid placed a large cloth over his pale face, and he prepared himself for what was to come.

A steady stream of water spread through the towel, slowly drenching his face, and he kept his mouth and eyes shut, as the liquid made its way across his face. At first, it didn’t seem that bad, but as the water grew more intense, and the drug began to seep into his system, it had the full effect of drowning. He felt as though he was underwater, disoriented, gasping for air, his lungs burned. His whole body convulsed and tensed, struggling to take in oxygen as the water filled his nose and airways, and he wanted more than anything to just bang his head against the cold surface of the table and knock himself out, ending the pain. Instead, he choked and sobbed, what little tears he let out intermingling with the water that poured down his face and neck, soaking the table and his back.

After what seemed like hours, the cloth was whipped off and the restraints undone. Desperately, Tech took deep, trembling breaths, tumbling off the table and onto the spartan floor. He crashed around the room for a moment, unable to see without the aid of his goggles, the drug in his system still in full effect. He searched frantically for the computer, he knew it was close, it had been at his head when he was lying down… but which way had he fallen off the table? Where was it now?

He let out a small sob, knowing his time was running out. He needed to find the computer and at the very least, complete a data transfer, run a calculation, something, anything to prove he had made progress, anything to make it so he didn’t have to go through this again… but just as he thought he had gained his bearings, he slipped on the wet floor, his head colliding with the corner of the table, and for a moment, Tech’s vision was clear.

Then… everything went black…

“He’s been gone for hours, Hunter.”

“I know… but it’s always like this, for any of us. Those stupid tests take forever.”

“Crosshair’s right, maybe we should go look for him.”

Hunter sighed, glancing over at his brothers. “Look, we know where he is. I know he’s been gone for a long time, but what are we gonna do about it?”

“How about dragging him out of training?” Crosshair suggested.

“I’d love to, believe me. But I don’t want anyone here getting in trouble, and neither would Tech. And we don’t want him to get in trouble either!” Hunter gave Crosshair and Wrecker a sympathetic look. “We’ll wait a few more hours. If he isn’t back by then, we’ll go in, consequences be damned.”

“Why wait?!” Wrecker objected, but Crosshair nodded, putting a hand on the taller clone’s shoulder. “By 18:00 hours, if he isn’t back, that’ll be the longest he’s ever been gone.”

“That’s right. At the very least, we should wait until then. Maybe the tests will take as long as last time, and this is routine. If not, we’ll find out. Sound good?”

Wrecker frowned but nodded slowly. “Yeah… It’s just… those tests are never any fun. And I hate to think he’s having to deal with them for such a long time.”

There was a short silence. Hunter’s stomach twisted into a knot, and he made a face. “I understand, Wrecker… I don’t like it either…”

“Those stupid long necks treat us like lab rats… Maker knows what Tech’s going through…”

“Well, he told me about them once.” Wrecker said. “He said that they just make him run calculations on the computers. It’s just a lot of thinking he says, and he has to stare at a screen for a while, which is why his eyes always hurt. And since he’s sitting all day, he’s always stiff and sore after.”

Crosshair and Hunter didn’t respond. While Tech had only ever given similar responses when questioned about his training, individually, they each knew that it probably wasn’t true. They didn’t want to tell Wrecker, because they knew how painful it would be for him if he truly knew the potential of what Tech could be going through.

To each other, they always kept the details of their training secret. But deep down, they each suspected the others of lying about the severity of it all, considering they were all going through their own struggles. Even Wrecker, who seemed so positive that Tech’s words were fact, knew they were likely nothing more than a façade. But they weren’t going to force each other to discuss something they’d rather not, and so, the true aspects of their training remained a mystery to one another.

Every ounce of Hunter’s being screamed at him to go and find his brother… but he squashed those feelings and tried to let logic steer his decisions. Tech wouldn’t want them to interfere, and he wouldn’t want them to get in trouble… And so they waited, none the wiser of what happened on the other side of the complex…

When Tech awoke, his whole body ached. His vision swam momentarily before everything stabilized and he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, looking around. He was barefoot and wearing a fresh change of white pants and shirt. It was very hard for him to see properly, as his goggles were missing (he did look around for them, but without any luck), but when he squinted, he could just make out the basic layout of his surroundings. He was in a large, white room, completely devoid of any furnishings, windows, or color. The walls and floor were padded with white, smooth, cushion-like material, which harshly reflected the bright white lights installed in the ceiling above. As Tech hesitantly rose to his feet, he realized that despite the many lights, they all appeared to have been installed in such a way that little to no shadows were cast. Most importantly, there did not appear to be any visible exit anywhere in the room.

In short, especially considering the lack of proper eyewear, he was in a white, silent void, with little enough detail that it was as though he was constantly having a bright light shone into his face. He staggered along the wall, feeling for any cracks or seams to indicate a door, but after passing around the room several times, he was unsuccessful. He cleared his throat, if only to hear a sound in this completely silent room, but even that was muffled significantly from all the padding in the room.

He cleared it again and spoke up timidly. “Hello?” No response. “Hello? Anyone?” Still nothing. He decided perhaps it may be best to sit and wait patiently, so he did so. After what he felt was a decent while, he finally stood up again and walked around. He began to pace along the perimeter of the room, timing himself the first time, and then continuing the pace and counting how many laps he finished. This both helped him try and keep his brain busy and helped him calculate the amount of time which he had spent in the room. After walking for (based on his estimates) thirty minutes, he sat down again. He realized that whatever reason Nala Se had in locking him in here was likely pertaining to some test or experiment. But at this point, he hardly cared. He just wanted to sleep… So he lay on his back and closed his eyes, but the blinding lights bore through his eyelids, and instead, he crawled over to one corner of the room, lay on his side, facing the wall, threw an arm over his face and attempted to get some rest.

He didn’t bother figuring out how much time passed before he finally drifted into a very fitful sleep, but it felt like an eternity. He also didn’t bother trying to tell how long it had been before he could no longer attempt to stay asleep and was finally forced to sit up. Once again, he blinked in confusion before realizing that his visual impairments could not be rectified due to his missing goggles. He sighed in frustration, debating whether he should just sit and wait, or if he should walk some more. He finally decided to go with the latter, and after about an hour, he sat down again. This pattern continued for an accurately incalculable amount of time, and slowly, it began to eat away at him.

Against his better judgement, he had shouted out Nala Se’s name multiple times, asking to be let out. Mercifully, he had no need to use the fresher, but that was only due to his completely empty stomach, which he was becoming increasingly aware of as time went on. He began to get sharp jabbing pains in his side as his stomach gurgled in protest, his entire body begging for nourishment. He tried to distract himself from the hunger, but it was impossible.

Pleading, bargaining, and threats had no effect on the Kaminoans, and Tech knew it. So, he lay there, in the center of the room, in pain as his body grew weaker, and his insides twisted in agony as they began trying to digest themselves. The muscles in his lower abdomen and back grew so sore, and his lack of proper vision began to eat away at him. He felt restless, unable to remain in one spot for any long period of time. In spite of his aching muscles, he walked around the room anxiously, ringing his hands, biting his lips and clenching his teeth. His eyes darted back and forth, even though there was nothing different for them to look at in any part of the room. He began hitting the walls with his fists, softly at first, almost as though he was just looking for hollow sounds indicating an exit, but they quickly turned to distract himself from the hunger, but it was impossible.

He ran his fingers fretfully through his hair, and he couldn’t help but let out a whimper of frustration as his anxiety built. A lump had formed in his throat and quickly came out in the form of panicked breathing and strangled cries as his eyes began to ache and his felt his senses start going haywire one by one. He fell to the ground, trembling, shouting, clutching at his chest as he struggled to regulate his breathing.

He had to grab the cushion-y ground and just focus on not puking at one point. He tore the material on the floor, he had clutched it so badly, but not enough that he could get to anything beneath the surface. As his anxiety continued to grow, he began to scratch furiously at his arms and neck, sobbing, screaming, crying out for someone, anyone. “Please, I- I can’t- I can’t do this anymore, please!” He choked and coughed, tears streaming down his face as he held his head in his hands, throwing himself into a corner. “I want it to stop… I- I want- I want it to stop!”

Everything in his body was suffering. He could feel his senses being deprived of simple things like colors, contrast, sound, basic things that didn’t seem like a big deal. But when he didn’t have them, they began taking a serious tole. They tore away at him, breaking him down, making him slowly lose a grasp on time and reality, everything seemed so dreamlike and lost. He wasn’t even sure that he was in a room. Maybe he was just dreaming… He had no way of knowing.

On the other hand, his body’s lack of stimulation was pushing it into overdrive, and it struggled to compensate, resulting in overstimulation when it came to the one sense he had been able to continue using: touch. He scratched deep at his skin, because every time he raked his nails across it, he felt something. It was proof. Proof that something was real. Maybe, if he kept doing it, he’d feel something else too? Maybe things would start going back to normal, he’d get more control… He just needed to wake his body up enough to go back to normal, that was it! Then everything would be fixed!

It was only a matter of time until he was let out, right? His brothers, his brothers would find him! All he had to do was hold out a little longer, everything would be fine!

Suddenly, for the first time in hours, a splash of color caught Tech’s eyes. It was red. He looked down. He suddenly felt the burning sensation on his neck and arms. It made his heart race, both with panic and with joy. Joy at the fact that finally, there was something there, something that stimulated his sense of sight, something that gave dimension to his otherwise lifeless world. But he panicked, because the color he saw and the pain he felt were indicative of something he knew he couldn’t fix on his own, and if no one was in fact coming, then more pain was soon to follow, and it would only get worse.

His hands were covered in blood. His blood. It dripped down his neck and soaked his sleeves and shirt front. In his anxiety and panic, he had clawed at his skin so much, that he had scratched it raw, to the point where his arms and throat were now giant bloody spots, the skin torn and swollen, his nails covered with drying, crimson liquid.

But instead of continuing to panic, Tech stopped. And laughed. At first, it was a high, hollow sound, but slowly, it grew louder and deeper, until it turned into an odd choking noise, and once again, tears rolled down his face. His vision grew blurry, and his head reeled. The next thing he knew…

He was falling…

The white lights and padded walls swirling around him like clouds…

He didn’t know how long he was falling… it felt like an eternity…

He hit the floor, but it didn’t hurt. Not like everything else…

He was so, so tired… tired of the pain, tired of the loneliness, tired of everything. He wanted his brothers, he wanted to see them again. He wanted to be able hear Wrecker’s shouts, Crosshair’s grumbling, and Hunter’s strong but kind voice. He wanted to stand out in the rain and get drenched, he wanted to feel the cold hard surface of the metal walls in his barracks… he wanted Nala Se to let him go, wanted the experiments to stop, wanted all of this to end…

But it didn’t end. Instead, he writhed in pain on the floor as he dry-heaved and shuddered, his muscles sore, his arms and neck bloody, and the ever growing pain in his head getting worse and worse, until finally, with a trembling sob and a desperate whimper, he slowly fell unconscious, everything around him still as empty and lonely as ever…

“He’s not here either.” Crosshair slammed his fist against the lab wall, gritting his teeth. “We’ve searched the med bays, training rooms, labs, everywhere. Where could he have gone?”

Hunter gritted his teeth, tapping his fingers sporadically against his leg as his eyes darted back and forth. Tech hadn’t returned to their barracks by the time they had hoped he would, and they had all reached a breaking point and decided to go look for him. That was almost 3 hours ago. They had been walking through the spartan white halls, sneaking about the complex where needed, and in most cases, breaking into rooms well beyond their clearance levels in search of their brother. They had explored high and low, from one end of Tipoca City to the other, but to their dismay, they still hadn’t found Tech.

After a lot of sad looks on Wrecker’s part and curses on Crosshair’s, they all agreed to return to their barracks in the hope that Tech may have returned while they were gone. They walked dejectedly down the hallway, passing other clones as they went, until Hunter came to a sudden stop, his brothers almost colliding into him from behind.

Nala Se stood in front of them, hands folded neatly behind her back. “Clone Unit 99. Why are you outside of your designated barracks?”

Hunter gulped, uncertain of the answer he should give, but Crosshair spoke first. “Where’s Tech?”

Nala Se looked disapprovingly at Crosshair. “CT-9903 is in training, and not to be disturbed.”

Crosshair scowled. “He’s not in training. We looked. He’s been gone for almost 12 hours now. That’s longer than any of us have ever trained before and he should be back by now. Where are you hiding-?”

“Crosshair.” Hunter interjected, putting a hand out in warning. He knew that his brother had already stepped out of line in the way he was speaking to Nala Se. The last thing he wanted was to have it go far enough that the Kaminoan decided to inflict punishments as a result. “We just want to know where our brother is ma’am.”

“That is of no concern to you. CT-9903’s training will be complete within the hour. You will see him when he returns to your barracks. Now, go back to your designated area.” Nala Se stepped aside, motioning for the cadets to continue down the corridor, and Hunter bit back the remark he so wanted to spit out. His brother was suffering somewhere, all alone, struggling to overcome insurmountable obstacles laid out by the Kaminoans, who did not care how much pain he went through, so long as the numbers and results were tolerable. But rather than scream all of this at Nala Se, rather than grab the nearest sharp object and slice her head off with it, he straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and nodded, walking towards the barracks. “Yes ma’am.”

Crosshair let out a soft hiss and followed after him, Wrecker bringing up the rear, practically stomping in defiance. When they were out of earshot, Crosshair began cussing out the scientist. “Stupid long-neck. I aught to purposefully miss during blaster practice and take her bug-eyed head off.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort.” Hunter bit back. “Do you want to be decommissioned?”

Crosshair scowled. “Do you even care what’s happening to Tech right now? Or are you more worried about following orders and staying out of trouble?”

Hunter whirled around and grabbed Crosshair by the shirt front, pushing him against a wall. “Of course I care about Tech! But if we get ourselves in trouble, we’ll have even less of a chance of being able to help him and possibly prevent whatever he’s going through from happening again, because we’ll be too busy with our own problems to do anything about his! You think I want any of us to go through what we do every day? You think I want to stand here and do nothing while I know my brother is suffering? Of course not! But we have to think about what we can feasibly and safely do without having more people get hurt!” He panted, his breathing uneven and strained, and slowly released his hold on Crosshair, who had grown silent. “Now…. We are going to go back to the barracks and wait for Tech. After that… after that, we can decide what to do. But until then… all we can do is wait…. So… just stop, please, Crosshair… Just stop.”

Tech blinked wearily, his entire body throbbing. As his eyes slowly adjusted, he realized both that his goggles had been returned to him and that he was in a med bay. For some reason, it seemed strange. The cold, sterile environment of the med bay had always seemed so colorless and miserable to him, yet now it looked as though it had an added dimension. Like it somehow had more color and dimension to it than it had before. He shifted on his cot and jolted in surprise as his fingers came into contact with a roughly textured material, and he glanced down in a daze. It was a blanket. But… he knew what the med bay blankets felt like. They weren’t rough at all. Yet, in comparison to the silky-smooth surface of that room…

Tech stiffened, his breathing quickening. That room… when had he gotten out? How? Where was Nala Se? How long had he been in the medical wing? He sat up suddenly, his head spinning, his vision going in and out of focus. He needed to get back. He needed to hide- to make sure that Nala Se never put him in there again. He’d do anything else. He’d take millions of tests, run algorithms for rotation after rotation if it meant never going back! He needed to-

“CT-9903.” Tech froze. Slowly, he turned his head towards the doorway, where Nala Se stood, her blank eyes glistening eerily. “Your training for this rotation is complete and your results were… satisfactory. Your self-inflicted damage has been taken care of. You may return to your barracks.”

Tech blinked, trying to comprehend what she had said. The sound and sight of someone other than himself had caught him off guard and he hesitated before replying. “Yes,” he choked out, his voice hoarse. “Thank you.”

The Kaminoan nodded slowly, still staring intently at him. “There’s much work to be done… but one day… you may be of great use to us.” She turned and left the room, as Tech slowly slipped off the cot and struggled to stand upright. After what felt like an eternity, he inched his way across the room and out the door, towards the barracks… and his brothers.

It felt like hours before he finally reached the familiar quarters, and he pushed a small button on the wall. The door swung open with a mechanical hiss, and he stepped gingerly through the doorway. The darker grey interior was gentler on his eyes, and the smell… while usually the smell wasn’t wonderful, right now, it was, because it purged the chemical scents from his naval passages for the first time in 12 hours. And the sound… there was no sound. He stopped, and for the first time, he actually looked around the room. His brother stood there, completely motionless and silent, worried looks on all their faces. Wrecker looked as though he wanted to run forward, but Hunter’s hand on his burly shoulder held him back, while Crosshair was as rigid as a statue, his jaw clenched, eyes wide.

What were they looking at? Why were they just standing there, as though in shock? What- …Oh… him. They were looking at him. He looked down at his clothes, at his hands and feet. He still wore no shoes- his feet were bruised and there was blood caked under his fingernails. Stains of the red substance covered his otherwise pristine white clothes in blotches, and he gulped noisily.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. He bit his lip, screaming internally. Why hadn’t he hit the fresher first? “I… I hadn’t wanted you to see this. I- I’ll go wash up.” He turned to leave, and there was the sound of rushing footsteps- long, lean fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back. He blinked, momentarily stunned, and turned back to come face to face with Crosshair, whose piercing eyes bore into his own. He shook his head.

Wrecker stepped forward, fiddling with the Tooka doll he clutched in his hands. “Don’t go,” he said softly. “Not yet. Not by yourself. Not again, please.” The larger cadet’s eyes were downcast, but pleading, his voice hesitant, not wanting to pressure, but so desperate to be heard.

Crosshair’s gaze softened but remained concerned none-the-less. “What did they do? Where were you?”

“Cross, don’t interrogate him, give him his space.” Hunter came up alongside the silver-haired clone, who had dragged Tech further into the room until the door snapped shut. Crosshair continued asking questions, while Hunter continued to berate him for it, but Tech said nothing. Not in protest, not in response… nothing… he didn’t know what he could say. What was he supposed to tell them? That he’d almost drowned? That he’d been drugged until he passed out? That he’d been locked in a padded white room, deprived of all outside stimuli until he had a mental breakdown? An odd knot formed in the pit of his stomach, just like it had earlier that day. He needed it to stop. Everything to just stop. The noise, the pain, the silence… it all made no sense, yet so much… everything just… “Stop.”

Hunter and Crosshair ceased their argument, and Wrecker looked with concern at Tech, whose shoulders had slumped, his arms dangling loosely at his sides. “Stop… all of it… just… I… I’m sorry. I just… I want…” his shoulders began to shake. Strong but gentle arms wrapped around him, and he gasped softly as Wrecker began to pat him on the back. The knot in the pit of his stomach made its way up into his throat, and an odd choking noise escaped him as tears began to stream down his cheeks. He closed his eyes, and his knees gave out, several pairs of arms catching him before he hit the ground. “I-I…”

“It’s alright Tech. You’re safe now. We’re right here, and we’re not going anywhere.” Hunter ran his fingers gently through Tech’s matted hair, trying to steady his brother’s breathing.

“It wouldn’t… wouldn’t stop,” Tech choked, clutching at his shirt front. Crosshair placed a hand on Tech’s shoulder, messaging it gently.

“We’ll make it stop. They’re never going to put you through stuff like this again. You’re not some lab rat to experiment on.”

“I just… I want to stay here. Like this… just… just for a little bit.”

Wrecker sat down properly on the floor, pulling Tech into a cradled hug, Hunter and Crosshair leaning against the larger cadet, still comforting their exhausted brother.

“It’s alright, Tech. We can stay here, just like this, for as long as you need.”

And they did. On that cold, exhausting, and trying night in Tipoca city, four brothers sat together, finding solace in one another’s presence. At long last, the pain, the loneliness, the exhaustion, the frustration, they all… just… stopped…

As arms wrapped comfortingly around him in loving embrace, Tech’s whirling mind slowly grew calm, his surroundings going in and out of focus as he finally felt himself falling into a peaceful slumber…

Floating…

Falling…

He was falling…

The light white clouds swirling around as gravity pulled him ever closer to the surface, the rail car disappearing in the distance…

He didn’t know how long he was falling… it felt like an eternity…

He calculated and acted, knowing there was only so much he could do, and when he finally struck the ground, everything hurt. But not how he expected.

He lay there… so tired… tired of the pain, tired of the loneliness, tired of everything. He wanted his family… wanted to see them again. He wanted to be able hear Wrecker’s shouts, Omega’s laughter, Echo’s grumbling, and Hunter’s strong but kind voice. He wanted to find Crosshair… tell him… everything… He didn’t want it to end…

“Well… isn’t this fascinating?” Voices… faces… footsteps… “There is much work that will need to be done… but I believe… you may be of great use to us.”

Then the pain…

And the loneliness…

And the regret…

Everything…

It all…

Just …

Stopped.

#bad batch whump

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