#wrecker;

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Getting back on my Wrecker and Hunter bullshit. Something very important to me about

“Hunter’s handling it.”

“We have orders from the Supreme Chancellor himself.”

“Like I said, Hunter’s handling it.”

from s1e1. Like. The Supreme Chancellor can suck my dick. I’m following my big brother. Whatever.

[sergeantpushover]

First time posting some of my polybatch (or any clone shipping) fic! Here’s a little bit from a hurt/comfort heavy late s2 Wrecker/Hunter/Tech piece I’m working on. This part is mostly just Wrecker being a softy and Hunter being an angst machine.

Vague references to this happening shortly after the Sanctuary novel, but you don’t need to have read it to appreciate the kisses.

“What’s goin’ on, Sarge?” Hunter dodges his gaze. “Nothing.” “Then why are you acting like such a bastard, huh?” And Wrecker doesn’t say it unkindly, but this is exactly what Hunter has been trying to avoid. Another interrogation and/or criticism session. Another Tryth.

It’s not as if he hasn’t been trying. Not as if he’s not aware he’s being—difficult. It’s just…

Wrecker’s eyes soften. He shifts his grip on Hunter to something a little firmer, a little more deliberate, palms flat and soothing, and smoothes both hands across the tense muscles of his shoulders and up his neck. He goes slowly, so slowly, dragging his thumbs across Hunter’s carotids and then stopping to cradle his face in both hands, rubbing circles into his temples. Rubbing away Hunter’s anxiety about being cornered alone and replacing it with relief that no one else is here to see the flush that spreads across his cheeks down his neck and out to the tips of his ears. The way his eyes slide shut. The soft noise he makes when Wrecker leans in and presses his forehead against Hunter’s.

“You’re hurting, yeah?” Wrecker murmurs, still rubbing those impossibly slow circles. He’s so gentle. So careful. Like Hunter is a live explosive and fuck, between the migraine and—fuck. He feels that way. “You got a headache?”

“…Yeah.” Has since that fragging stim shot in the alley, but when he’d finally had the chance to get some real rest with the ship empty of everyone except his family, rather than the reprieve a few hours of sleep sometimes got him, he woke up out of a heart-stopping nightmare into a migraine and only just made it to the ‘fresher before throwing up. That had been ten hours ago, and things haven’t much changed. Except now it’s hot and humid and he’s at a fucking birthday party.

Wrecker breathes deeply and steadily. “Kinda figured. You want to head back to the ship?”

He doesn’t, not really. Doesn’t want to disappoint Omega for the millionth time this week, doesn’t want everyone to see him slinking off to go sulk like he always seems to have to lately. Sulk or explode because he can’t sleep, can’t relax, can’t catch a break from headaches and arguments and everything.

He’s just tired. That’s all. Really, really fragging tired.

Wrecker moves his hands again, pushing his fingers into Hunter’s hair and scratching at his scalp and once again Hunter is glad they’re alone. The sound he makes is only for Wrecker, as is the sigh when, after Hunter finally admits, “Please,” Wrecker kisses him with the same slow deep gentleness as he’s been touching him with. Finally, some of the freezing hollowness he’s been feeling since the landing pad starts to ebb. He hangs onto Wrecker’s wrists and leans up on his toes and tries to fall into the fact that he’s here right now. The presence of him. Wrecker holds him steady, keeps holding him, won’t let Hunter go or go further, just kisses him as slowly and thoroughly as he always does. Hunter’s panting by the time he breaks away. He doesn’t pull back, though, just stays there with his forehead pressed to Hunter’s. Hopefully can’t feel the way he’s trembling.

“Thank you,” Wrecker says, as if Hunter’s the one giving him something. “Come on. Tech’s makin’ our excuses.”

“Tech’s coming?”

“Yup. Just the three of us. Meg’s gonna stay with Shep and Lyana tonight. We’re gonna get you medicated and fed and then do something about this, okay?” He tugs gently at a particularly snarled section of Hunter’s hair. Another flush. He’d been hoping they hadn’t noticed how little he’s been keeping up with that lately, but he hadn’t had much actual expectation of success. It just hasn’t been a priority. Especially wasn’t on their last mission. And once it’s this bad, it takes forever and it doesn’t feel great, especially not on top of a migraine. Well, not when he does it. Hunter’s hands are built for brute force, for shoving his vibroblade through metal and bone and apparently, ripping out chunks of his own hair when he’s frustrated enough. When Wrecker and Tech do it, it’s different. Bomb tech different. Engineer different. Settles all the awful shit under his skin rather than sets it off.

Ever since Kaller, the void Crosshair left behind in him has been filling with this inescapable dread and confusion. It ached at first, but since that trip back to Kamino, it’s as though Hunter’s being gutted every single waking moment (what happens when he’s asleep doesn’t bear thinking about). He can’t be with them without thinking about him, but he can’t be without them without wondering if they’ll ever come back. If this will be the time he loses them with all the shocking suddenness and violence he lost Crosshair.

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TBB filler episode that’s just them in civvie loungewear starting with Wrecker in a black and red hoodie. Fits him perfectly probably due to the fact that he picked it out and bought it for himself. Nothing remarkable, just Wrecker in his nice new hoodie. That he now can’t find in his locker for some reason.

Cut to Tech up in the middle of the night with a huge mug of caf and a datapad curled up in one of the flight chairs and also in a suspiciously oversized black and red hoodie. Wrecker eventually reclaims it but now it’s got caf and engine grease stains and Tech is back to complaining about how cold it is on the Marauder in hyperspace.

Cut to Hunter passed tf out in his bunk with a huge pair of noise canceling headphones that you can’t really see for the way he’s got the hood of the frankly ridiculously large black and red hoodie pulled up so far it’s covering his eyes. Wrecker reclaims it the next morning but Hunter says it’s really soft inside which Wrecker knows means it doesn’t feel like sandpaper during a migraine.

Cut to Omega completely consumed inside the hoodie reaching out from sweater paws as long as her actual arms to take the mug of hot cocoa Wrecker made her. She had a nightmare, she says, and it’s a lot easier to remember she’s not on Kamino anymore because Kamino didn’t have anything this soft and heavy and cuddly to wear. And it also didn’t have hot cocoa or a big brother to make her hot cocoa. And Wrecker gets the hoodie back the next afternoon with a little Lula clumsily drawn in marker on the cuff.

And months and months later. Cut to Crosshair still so painfully skinny that all his base layers and old civvies hang off him as much as the hoodie hung off Tech when he couldn’t sleep and hangs off Hunter when he’s coming off a bad overload. Not quite as much as Omega, even with the inches she’s put on during her time in Tantiss, but still. Cut to Crosshair shivering in the mild chill of a Pabu morning trying to look more angry than miserable. To a tarp-sized mass of red and black fabric smacking him in the face and Wrecker saying put the damn hoodie on you’re making me feel cold. And Crosshair snarls and hisses but puts the damn hoodie on. Says nothing else about it. And Wrecker half-forgets he gave it to him until the next morning when he gets up and finds Crosshair still in his bunk instead of already gone from the ship. Still in his bunk and still in the hoodie, with the hood up and his knees tucked up inside it and his hands hidden like how he used to sleep all balled up as a cadet.

And Hunter comes up next to Wrecker and says pretty sure this is the first time he’s slept more than four hours in one go. Didn’t hear him up with nightmares last night. And Wrecker says should I let him keep it? And Omega comes over and leans against him and says I think that defeats the purpose.

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Something I KNOW happens on the Marauder is the constant struggle of “Wrecker closed this container/tightened this bolt/etc and now he’s not here and I can’t get it unscrewed.” Wrecker does try his best to remember! He’s just very strong okay!

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I think there are a lot of Batch idiosyncrasies and odd ideas that they in all their insular codependent glory are completely unaware of but right now my three favorites are

They all think Wrecker is an insanely heavy sleeper. He’s not, he’s just half-deaf and not quite so high strung as the others, and also Sergeant Super Senses makes everyone look like a coma patient by comparison.

They all think Hunter is hysterically bad at math. This is part unawareness of exactly how rigorous the Kaminoan commando education requirements are, but mostly it’s the whole “engineer, bomb tech, sniper, cyborg hacker, and… knife guy” effect

They have a complete and utter lack of the concept of privacy for everything ranging from personal space to secret-keeping. On Kamino, they were always being monitored (bad), and Hunter is always listening (good), and the Marauder is tiny, and they’ve never been separated for more than a week or so at a time since they first met. This is actually a TechPhee Problem that she has to resolve early on when she tells him something personal and two days later somehow Hunter knows it. And she realizes that she has to firmly specify in the moment if she wants to override the whole “if you’re telling one of them you have to accept you’re telling all of them” thing and there does come a point where she realizes if Tech decides it’s important for the others to know, he’s going to tell them anyway.

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You know when your dog is trying to eat something she’s not supposed to? And she’s looking at you out of the corner of her eye and you're looking at her out of the corner of yours because you both know what she's going to do the second you look away. And she slowly opens her mouth and starts inching towards it in a game of red light green light every time you lose your focus for even a second. You know that?

Tech also knows this. But he doesn't have a dog he just has an idiot older brother who loves to stick things in his mouth for the sake of tracking. And no matter how many times Tech tells him that the next time he licks something toxic he can track his way all the way to the nearest Poison Control Center, he not only has to continue dealing with it but also with the game of follow the stupid leader it inspires in Wrecker. And Crosshair is of course no help.

But then Echo shows up! And now at least there is one brain cell holder for every leaf licker.

And then Omega shows up. And the first time he sees her raise her hand toward her mouth not thirty seconds after he just finished telling Hunter off he realizes that it is and always has been a lost cause.