my clone headcanons: "who did this to you" wound trope
a/n: yesyesyesyes crash out crash out crash out
hunter is impossible to lie to. he finds the injuries and wounds you try to hide from the group all the time, his mouth pressed in a flat line as he crouches to the floor in front of you. “easy, easy…” he murmurs when you flinch away from him. he rubs his hands down your shoulders slowly, leaning in close to meet your eyes. his gaze burns with anger, but his voice is soft, reassuring you that you’re safe. “who did this to you?” he asks.
tech is known to figure things out pretty quickly, putting two and two together like it’s nothing. he sits at your side with his lips pursed together, hesitating before he rests a light hand on your thigh to get your attention. you glance at him, seeing that he’s already looking at you. he speaks so calmly despite the threat laced in his tone. “you can make it easy for the both of us and tell me who did this to you. or i can find them myself.”
wrecker gets scary when he’s pissed off, and that is exactly what he is when you get hurt, suddenly ready for a fight that he knows he’ll win. but he reserves his gentleness for you, cupping your face with his hands that are so large you basically disappear inside his grasp. he caresses your cheeks, the creases on his face deepening with his frown. “who did this to you?” he growls in a low voice, “i’ll take care of ‘em for you…”
crosshair is dangerous when he’s still and silent, his jaw tightening as hot anger boils under his skin. he brushes a careful finger over the tears and blood staining your cheeks, dragging his touch down to your chin where he tilts your face up, scowling darkly. “who did this to you?” he hisses. he wraps his hand around your jaw when you don’t say anything, leaning in so close that he whispers, “staying quiet won’t help him…”
echo just wants you to open up to him—to trust him when you’re in a vulnerable spot. he of all people knows how hard that is, which is all the more reason he craves this intimacy with you. he grips your hands gently, taking the med patches away so that he can dress your wound himself. he’s not looking at you as his stern voice rumbles through the silence. “who did this to you?” then he stares up at you. “i won’t ask again.”
wolffe doesn’t beat around the bush, and he doesn’t let you do so, either. his voice is deep and commanding when he stands over you, folding his arms over his chest. “look at me.” you lift your head slowly, with hesitation, so he cups the side of your face and tilts your face up, brushing his thumb over some tears to swipe them away. his eyebrows draw together in subtle anger ever so slightly, narrowing his gaze at you. “i’m not going to repeat myself,” he breathes quietly. “tell me who did this.”
fox is a stickler for the rules until someone hurts you, and suddenly, he’s a hypocrite who itches to burn whoever is responsible for this. he loses his cool just like that, grabbing your face with a slightly crazed look in his eyes when he demands, “who the fuck did this to you?” his breath comes in fast as he slides his hands down to cup the back of your neck, a possessive grip that reminds you that you’re his to protect.
cody never cowers from a fight worth his time, and you’re worth everything to him. he folds his arms over his chest and asks “who did this to you?” you shake your head, “cody, don’t…” he frowns and crouches low to the floor slowly, kneeling between your legs. “nobody has to get hurt,” he tells you, taking your hands to kiss your bruised knuckles. “you’re lying out of your ass,” you mutter. “and you’re hiding from me.”
mayday grips your waist, holding you still as you try to squirm away from his help. “shh, come here, let me take a look,” he orders softly, his voice spreading over your body like warm, relaxing waters that pull you under. “you’re alright…” he murmurs, stroking the top of your head slowly while assessing the damages. he clicks his tongue in disapproval and lifts his head to meet your eyes in a hard stare. “who did this to you?”
rex touches the back of your neck, slowly tightening his hand to turn you around. you avoid his gaze while he looks down at your body, around your face in quiet observation. “give me a name,” is all he says. you tilt your head and sigh, shaking your head, but he cups your face to stop your movements. he leans in close, staring with a sharp, unwavering determination. “maybe i wasn’t clear the first time,” he murmurs in a low tone.
fives has a temper everyone knows about, and the best way to set it off is for something to happen to you. he plants his hands down around your sitting frame, caging you into his body. your faces are close, your breaths even closer, mingling and shared as he stares into your eyes unflinchingly. “who did this?” he asks firmly. “fives, don’t make a big deal out of—” he shakes his head, “oh, we’re making a big fucking deal out of this.”
kix has a caretaking instinct that prioritizes your wellbeing over anything else. he feels guilty when he’s not there to prevent you from getting hurt, but he’s always there to fix up the damages. his eyes soften into a pained frown as he cradles the back of your head and strokes your hair. he kisses your scalp, whispering, “you’re safe now, you’re okay…” he waits for you to catch your breath. “can you tell me who did this to you?”
jesse is the type of guy to react to your pain like it’s his own. you already know he’s going to be pissed, so it doesn’t come as a surprise when a heavy glare shadows his expression, and he snaps, “who did this to you? which fucker was it—” you cut him off before he gets too riled up, whispering, “jesse, calm down, please…” he scowls and cups the back of your head to pull you into his chest protectively. “like hell i’ll calm down…”
hardcase feels like a bucket of cold water is dumped over his head when you’re hurt. the reality of your pain sobers him up faster than he can blink, and things aren’t so fun and games anymore. he settles you into his lap and lets you lean your weight on him, giving up all your strength. “hey…” he murmurs in your ear, his strong arms around you as you quiver in his embrace. “shit, what happened? who did this to you?”
gregor knows you’re tough enough to handle yourself, but he still freaks out at any blemish big or small. “who did this?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. “you want me to handle them for you?” you wave him off, “gregor, i’m fine…” but he’s not convinced, stroking a hand down your hair as he rasps, “you’re not fine, look at you…” he buries his face into the top of your head, kissing you softly. “c’mon, tell me who it was…”
howzer cups his hands around your face delicately, like you’re made of glass, exhaling raggedly as he presses a long, hard kiss to your forehead. his lips linger against your skin when he murmurs, “who did this to you?” and he slides his hands down to wrap you in a tight embrace. “tell me, and i swear he won’t ever put his hands on you again, yeah?” he pulls back, searching your eyes with his own, whispering, “you trust me?”
emerie concerns herself with taking care of you before asking any questions, but the silence drags on as she furrows her eyebrows and tentatively touches her fingertips to your wound. you don’t seem to react in discomfort, so she presses her hand down over the bandage, smoothing her touch out in a comforting circle. “you’re not going to tell me what happened?” she asks, kissing your shoulder, “who did this…?”
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