Bad Batch Cuddles
Rating: G
Word Count: 1.9k
Pairing: gn!reader x bad batch
Warnings: None, just fluff
Summary: Reader is a medic for the Bad Batch who suffers from chronic nightmares. The Bad Batch learns that cuddling helps and they are on the job. This is how that came about.
[Part 2]
Masterlist
Nightmares are nothing new to you; you’ve dealt with them for as long as you can remember. It’s tiring, the constant interruption of any sleep you attempt to get. Your coping mechanisms, ones you’ve learned through hard experience, only do so much night after night.
When the war starts you join as a volunteer medic. You figure why not put your skills to use where they were needed the most? It did nothing to help you sleep, the nightmares are only that much more vivid now, but you think it’s a fair trade for the lives you save every day. It’s your passion, and you wouldn’t give it up for anything.
The GAR moves you around at any given moment depending on what it needs. Sometimes you’re on a Venator-class star destroyer serving under a Jedi general. A few times you work on one of the Republic medical stations with the Kaminoans (you weren’t sure how to feel about them if you were being honest.) But your longest stint anywhere, and where you were still, is working with Clone Force 99. They tell you to call them the Bad Batch.
You think it’s a bit funny, but you do it anyway.
They’re the ones who help you discover that nothing works to keep you asleep through the night quite as much as cuddling with someone else.
The first time you have a nightmare around them, you wake up in a cold sweat, heart pounding, in the little cot set up for you in the Havoc Marauder.
You slip past the boys still asleep in their bunks and make your way to the cockpit.
It’s cooler in there, causing you to shiver when you step through the door. The blur of stars in hyperspace is as mesmerizing as ever, and works to calm you down.
You sit it in the copilot seat. It’s always a good idea to leave the pilots seat open in case something goes wrong. And considering the Bad Batch’s propensity for things going wrong, it’s more likely than you care to admit.
Hours later, when your eyes are dry and hurting, you finally feel like you can go back to sleep. A quick sneak back to your cot and you lay there for the rest of the night.
Hunter asks you about it the next morning.
“Oh man, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Curse your inability to be stealthy! Of course you would wake up the one with enhanced senses!
“No worries,” he assures you with a smile. “You we’re getting restless before you woke up, wanted to make sure you were okay.”
You gave him an awkward smile. “Nothing to worry about, it was just a nightmare.”
Should you tell him that it’s normal? It would probably be a good idea. But what if he thinks constantly being woken up is too much of a hassle and wants a different medic? You were supposed to be helping them, not making them loose sleep too!
“I figured as much; it happens to all of us.”
He claps your shoulder and walks away before you could say another word.
Since then, one by one, the rest of the boys all find out about your nightmares. Wrecker is sitting up in his bunk one night when you jolt awake in your cot and end up meeting his eyes. Crosshair stays back with the Marauder during a short resupply where you proceed to fail miserably at taking a nap. Tech is tinkering with something in the cockpit when you come in one night.
You’re not actually sure if he’s been to sleep at all yet, which only makes you feel a little better about accidentally disturbing him.
“You know,” he starts as soon as you walk in, “there are many studies about the psychology of chronic nightmares and their causes in nat-borns. Do you know if you have any hereditary diseases or other underlying sleep disorders that could contribute to your condition? If we scanned your brain, we could see if there’s a physiological reason for it. As a medic, it would be simple for you to do.”
You’re so astonished, both by his concern and the heat crawling up your face, that you can only giggle before going to sit on the floor next to him.
“Hate to say it, but I’ve done that. Nothing physiological,” you sigh.
“Then it is psychological?”
“Not that I’ve ever discovered.”
Tech looks up in surprise. “I find it quite fascinating that nat-borns can have something wrong with them for no discernible reason.”
You snort. “Suppose being a genetically enhanced clone has some perks then. At least you know exactly how and why you’re different.”
“I’ve never heard someone say being a clone is a good thing.” Tech’s voice goes soft, and your heart breaks a little for him.
Being a medic has let you see the humanity in the GAR soldiers, that they’re so much more that just clones. You also see that you are one of a few who think so.
You lean your head down on his shoulder, causing him to perk up.
“Perhaps what you need to alleviate your nightmares is to sleep with someone.”
“Tech!” You sputter, trying to keep your voice down. “You can’t just say that!”
“You misunderstand, I did not mean that in a sexual sense, though that would also work.”
The sound that leaves your throat is absolutely mortifying.
“The sensation of touch releases oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin. These hormones make you experience feelings of happiness, relaxation, improve your mood, and lower levels of depression. In your case, theoretically, it may help alleviate your nightmares enough to sleep soundly through the night.”
Once again, you felt astonishment flood through you. It’s hardly a lot of research that Tech did, but the fact he did it for you had you feeling warm and fuzzy inside.
“So you’re saying I should cuddle with someone?”
“In layman’s terms, yes.”
“Are you volunteering?” You’re hoping you didn’t sound desperate, because if cuddling is the answer after all this time you’re gonna hold onto these boys like a gundark does it’s next meal.
Wait, that’s morbid.
“If you feel like it would help, it will also make a good experiment to see how such a release of hormones could affect us clones and you differently.” As he stands he offers his hand to you. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
When you follow him back to his bunk you have no idea that it will be the best night sleep you can ever remember having in your life.
It only goes uphill from there when the others find out what helps you, touch starved as they are.
Tech likes to sleep on your chest, partly for his own comfort, but you’re also convinced he documents your heart rate and respiration for his own study. You notice that he changes small things about the way he lays depending on how well you sleep some nights, like he wanted to see what brings about the best results. And if you cuddle him just a bit more when you catch on, well neither one of you says anything.
Wrecker is the most enthusiastic about this turn of events. He is the most tactile out of the four of them, so nights with him are the cuddliest. With him, he loves to be the big spoon, and you’re not complaining in the slightest. You feel so small in his arms. It’s the warmest and safest place you can ever be, and on the odd night you still wake up he’s holding you just that much tighter and assuring you that he’ll fight off every nightmare you have and keep you safe.
Hunter has to figure out which position sets off his senses the least, but he learns for you. It’s slow going, but eventually you both figure out that you laying on top of him is the best. You get a nice body pillow that hugs you back, and he gets a person shaped weighted blanket that actually manages to calm him down. The night you try that position you both sleep so well that it takes Hunter a few minutes to let you go when he wakes up, which is lovely since he usually has to move during the night.
Crosshair….
Well, Crosshair makes it perfectly clear that he doesn’t want any part of cuddling with you. The rapport you have already built with him as a medic is not ideal, but at least he’s civil with you now. You didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that, so you leave him be.
The others take turns sleeping with you each night if they can. You rotate around their bunks so much you hardly sleep in your own cot anymore; the only times you do now is when they're off on a mission that you can’t join them on, even if you do double as a field medic for them.
Everything changes one night, though.
It’s another resupply when Crosshair stays behind that the others are trapped in town for the night because of a sandstorm. As capable as they were – a sandstorm wouldn’t have slowed them down much, honestly – Hunter didn’t want to needlessly risk it. So, he, Tech, and Wrecker stay in the town, leaving you and Crosshair alone in the Marauder.
You’re nervous for it, though you’re not certain why exactly. Maybe it’s the antsy feeling that grows in you the closer it came to go to sleep. You knew a nightmare will come tonight.
“Hey… Crosshair?” You stand a few feet away from where he cleans his rifle.
“No.”
You almost wince. You suppose it’s a bit obvious what you want to ask him.
“Right, sorry.”
You putter away to the bunks and proceed to strip away Wrecker’s, Tech’s, and Hunter’s (not Crosshair’s; never Crosshair’s) blankets and pillows to toss onto your cot. It’s something you do when they’re all away – a poor approximation to being in their arms, but it smells like them and it’s warm, so you make it work.
When Crosshair comes in from locking down the Marauder he takes one look at you and scoffs. “You look pathetic.”
You crack your eyes open. “Better pathetic like this than pathetic because of a nightmare,” you mutter before closing your eyes again.
“You’re going to give us a bad name if you keep looking this pathetic.” You hear before the blankets are ripped away from you.
“Hey!” You jolt up and try to grab them back but he’s already tossing them on the floor.
You freeze when he pulls the last remaining cover up and slides into your cot next to you. You’re staring at him in shock when he scoffs again and practically manhandles so you’re tucked into his front, chest to chest.
When your hands shakily move around to hold his middle, slowly in case he pulls away, he puts his around your back and pulls you closer.
You let yourself melt into it, lest you miss your chance to accept what he’s never offered before. Whatever has come over him, you’re going to take full advantage of it. Your legs tangle with his and in Crosshair’s arms you can finally sleep knowing no nightmare would dare to disturb either of you.
“Thank you,” you whisper into his chest as you drift off.
“Don’t mention it,” he whispers back, voice softer than you’ve ever heard. “Ever.”
And after that night, Crosshair is one of your favorites to sleep with.