The Last Time
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Angstpril 2024 | Day 30 | Prompt 30: The Last Time
Rated: G | Words: 1562 | Summary: “...it was the last time…” | Character Focus: Hunter, Tech, Crosshair, Wrecker, Echo
“Are you awake?” Tech’s voice asks, right at the edge of Hunter’s bunk.
Hunter doesn’t know how anyone can sleep with the hurricane raging outside the walls. It sounds like the entire city might topple under the weight of its rampant fury. Not that Hunter’s scared. His blanket is only pulled up over his head because the flashes of lightning burn his eyes. But the thin blanket does not protect his frayed senses from the bone rattling thunder and the constant barrage of torrential rain lashing against the walls and windows.
“I’m awake,” Hunter says, voice muffled into his fabric sanctuary.
The edge of his mattress dips as Tech sits down next to him. “Excellent. Would you like to see the weather radar I have accessed?”
No, Hunter thinks, but he hears the slight tremble in his brother’s voice. With a sigh, he leaves the small comfort of his makeshift barrier and sits up. “Sure, Tech.”
It is the middle of their sleep cycle. Their barracks should be dark, but the incessant lightning keeps the room lit with a flickering, white light. Tech does not wait for further invitation before he scrambles the rest of the way into Hunter’s bunk, putting himself between Hunter and the wall. He props his data pad between them, the screen a mass of twisting colors. “We are here,” Tech says, pointing to a tiny blip amongst the chaos.
“What do the different colors mean?” Hunter asks. He already knows. Reading weather maps is a basic part of their training; however, he also knows that Tech finds comfort in over-explaining even the most rudimentary facts.
Hunter becomes so engrossed in the rambled explanation of weather patterns, that he doesn’t notice the shadow prowling across the room until it speaks almost directly into his ear. “What are you doing?”
Hunter won’t admit if his nerves also leapt bodily in surprise, but Tech startles, the small jerk of motion jarring against Hunter’s side.
Crosshair stands there, arms crossed tightly over his chest, shoulders hiked just a little towards his ears, waiting for an answer.
“Tech’s showing me his weather map,” Hunter says.
Crosshair shifts his weight, sharp eyes cutting away. “I want to see when this karking storm is gonna end,” he mumbles. Like Tech, he does not wait for an invitation to clamber into the bunk. Crosshair puts himself between Tech and the wall. Hunter shifts a little to make more room, Tech tucked snugly in the middle.
Tech starts his explanation all over again, moving the data pad to rest in his lap so that all three of them can see.
“Hey!” an indignant shout comes from across the room. There’s a loud thump, the thudding of feet running across the room. Wrecker looms over Hunter’s crowded bunk, blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. “No one told me we were sharing a bunk tonight. I don’t want to be alone either!”
“We aren’t sharing a bunk,” Tech corrects him, “I am showing Hunter and Crosshair the storm’s progress on my radar.”
Wrecker grins. “Then I want to see too!”
He dives into the bunk amidst shouts of protest, wedging himself into the nonexistent space between Crosshair and the wall. Hunter is nearly shoved out of his own bed, clinging to Tech’s arm to keep himself from toppling to the floor.
“We can’t all fit!” Crosshair squawks.
“Yes, we can!” Wrecker says, sounding all too pleased with himself.
“Wrecker,” Crosshair wheezes, “your elbow is digging into my ribs.”
“Oh, sorry,” Wrecker says.
Another pause.
“Wrecker, your elbow is still digging into my ribs.”
“I know, but I’m really comfortable,” Wrecker sighs.
Tech huffs. “At least one of us is.”
Hunter is halfway off the bunk. “We can make this work,” he says, “but not like this.” He drops to the floor and stands up.
“How?” Crosshair asks.
“Sideways,” Hunter says. “Now move.”
“We’re too tall to fit sideways,” Tech points out.
“Do you want to share my bunk or not?” Hunter asks.
At that, his brothers don’t argue, quickly rearranging themselves. Sitting up as they had been, their feet - with the exception of Wrecker - come just to the edge of the thin mattress. They leave space for Hunter between the head of the bed and Tech. Hunter climbs into his allocated spot, and they situate his and Wrecker’s blankets over all four of them.
“Now,” Tech says, taking out his data pad. “Shall I start again?”
They listen to Tech talk about the storm, hardly noticing the stark flashes of lightning or the grumbling of the thunder or the endless onslaught of rain, until one by one they fall asleep.
But it is the last time the four share a bunk.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
"Stop looking at my cards!” Wrecker cries, holding his splay of cards against his chest.
Crosshair scoffs, sitting back. “I would if you’d stop waving them directly in my face.”
“Maybe if you stayed on your side of the table...”
“Can we play just one game without an argument?” Hunter asks, the patience in his voice becoming transparently thin.
A brief moment of silence. Wrecker puts down a card.
“Wrecker, that is an illegal play,” Tech says.
“Is not,” Wrecker says.
Crosshair picks up the card and flicks it back at Wrecker. “Is so. Take it back.”
Wrecker grumbles, but puts the card back in his hand.
The game continues without further incident until Crosshair wins the round.
“How did you know I was bluffing?” Tech asks as Crosshair sweeps his winnings of spare bolts and screws into his pile.
Crosshair grins. “You’ve got a tell.”
“Really? What is it?” Wrecker asks eagerly, squinting at Tech.
Tech rolls his eyes, gathering the cards to shuffle. “I do not have a tell.”
“He does,” Crosshair says to Wrecker, ignoring Tech, “but I’m not going to give it away. It’s my strategy. He counts cards, and I read his tells.”
Hunter groans. “Tech…”
“That is not cheating!” Tech cries, indignant.
“With your enhancement…”
“Now wait a minute–”
“Yeah! Using enhancements is cheating!” Wrecker declares.
Tech huffs. “Then Crosshair shouldn’t be able to read my tells,” he says, then adds, glancing at Wrecker, “not that I have any.”
“How the kark am I supposed to play then? Blindfolded?” Crosshair cries.
Tech shrugs indifferently. “If necessary.”
The table erupts in a tangle of arguments, rational and irrational alike.
It is the last time they play cards before Echo joins the Batch.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
“Here we are,” Hunter says cheerfully, stepping into the clearing and removing his helmet. He takes a deep breath, enjoying the inhalation of pure air, rich with the scents of primitive wilderness. The only electromagnetic signals his senses can pick up are from the Marauder an hour’s march away, and the faint output of Tech’s data pad and their gear.
“If by here you mean the middle of nowhere, then you are correct,” Tech grumbles, shrugging out of his pack and putting it against a tree.
“It was Hunter’s turn to pick our shore leave,” Echo says diplomatically. “So middle of nowhere it is.”
“I like it!” Wrecker booms, scaring away a bird that had been watching them from a nearby branch. “We haven’t been camping in ages!”
Crosshair sighs. “What do you call what we just did on our last mission?”
“Just ‘cause we had to sleep outside doesn’t mean it was camping,” Wrecker says. “Camping means we have a campfire and don’t have to worry about getting our heads shot off by clankers.”
“Now we just have to worry about our heads being bitten off by wild animals,” Crosshair retorts.
Tech immediately cuts in. “There are no predators on this planet capable of such a feat. I made sure of it.”
“See? I feel safer already.” Echo chuckles, pulling off his helmet and grinning at Hunter. “I think I’m gonna like this shore leave. We’ll have some peace and quiet if we can get these two to quit their whining,” he says, nodding at Crosshair and Tech.
Echo receives twin expressions of indignation in response.
However, that night, around the crackling warmth of the campfire, the complaints of the early afternoon are forgotten. The soft sounds of nighttime embrace them, soothing chaotic nature for something tranquil. They watch the stars overhead as things unreachable, winking pinpricks of light against a velvety, black canopy of sky.
Hunter takes first watch, eager to enjoy the serenity they’ve found. Crosshair comes to sit next to him once their brothers have fallen asleep. He bumps his shoulder against the Sargeant’s, and Hunter nudges him back. They don’t speak for long, peaceful minutes, appreciating one another’s quiet company.
“Do you think we could live like this? After the war?” Hunter asks at last, voice hushed.
Crosshair doesn’t answer right away, leaning forward and bracing his forearms on his knees, watching the flames of the fire dance and spark. “We’re soldiers,” he says, “we don’t know anything but war.”
“We could learn,” Hunter says. “Adapt.”
Crosshair chuckles. “I’m always up for a challenge.”
It is the last time they have shore leave before their mission to Kaller.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
Hunter tries to remember the last words he said to Omega.
The last meaningful words.
The last words she might remember him by.
In case this mission goes wrong.
In case it was the last time he ever saw her.
But he can’t remember.
END
That's a wrap! [[On the eve of the Bad Batch series finale too!! 🥲]] 30 angsty prompts fulfilled in 30 days! I am honored to have gotten to collaborate alongside the endlessly talented @the-little-moment and @just-here-with-my-thoughts this month!
A master list post is coming soon with links to all 30 stories/chapters completed this month! So keep an eye out for that ☺️
Happy last Bad Batch eve, my lovelies! **sob**
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