Formal Rex to follow up my formal Fives from a while back.
I donāt know why there are so many stock photos out there of businessmen in killer heels but as long as I keep finding them Iāll keep drawing these I guess?
@pinetree-thetooka has been generous to me and has written a small collection of narrative branches throughout the development of this story. I would like to share them with you all (because I really appreciate the effort she's put into them). Thank you so much dude! You're amazing!
Chapter: Incursion 3
Context: Takes place shortly after the flashbang incident. Crosshair, still on high alert and suffering from the effects of a concussion, accidentally dislocated Kolto's arm when his Commander tried to help. They've now escaped and set up camp. Quack, the clone medic, has started treating the injured.
Focal Characters: Crosshair, Quack, Pivot
Word Count: 1,713
"Let me see your arm, Commander,"
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Quack said and stepped closer to Kolto, who hissed while holding his left arm. When the medic reached for his shoulder, Kolto shook his head.
"No, I think you should check up on Crosshair first," he said while nodding in the direction Crosshair was standing, steadying himself on a tree with one hand while rubbing his eyes with the other.
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"He's off worse than any of us at the moment. Start with him, I can wait."
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With that, Kolto sat down on a log and gently rubbed his hurting shoulder. Quack frowned at Crosshair and looked at him with disgust. Deprecatingly, he walked over to him and, without any warning, pushed him forward towards another log lying on the ground.
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His eyes and face burned, and everything was so painfully bright; his ears were still buzzing and ringing, and he hated it. On top of all that, he also felt nauseous and had the urge to vomit, though he could suppress it for now. Crosshair had hoped that he would never have to go through all of this a third time, but he should have known that the second wouldn't have been the last time.
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His eyes burned and stung, and all he could see was a blinding white light. He hated flash bangs; the effect of it always lasts longer on him thanks to his enhanced eyesight, the deafness luckily fades away faster, but it still hasn't passed yet. Crosshair rubbed his eyes with a low groaning hiss and leaned more onto the tree he was standing next to. He couldn't see, but he could still visualize in his mind what he would see. He feels the rough pattern from the bark of the tree and pictures in his head what it would look like. This is easier with things he already knows, like his rifle, but this technique helped him ground himself.
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He remembered how Tech taught him this technique when he was hit with a flashbang for the first time⦠Crosshair balled his fist. Why is he still thinking about them? Why do they always come up? They chose their path, he chose his, end of--
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He was pushed forward suddenly, and Crosshair let out a short grunt, trying to hold on to the tree, but he stumbled and nearly fell. The hand on his shoulder didn't disappear, instead it roughly pulled him back up and continued to push him forward, he already wanted to throw a punch but then he felt that he was pushed down after a few steps and he hesitated, he heard someone talking behind the buzzing in his ears but it was muffled and he couldn't understand a thing, though the tone of the voice sounded annoyed.
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Now he was sitting on a log, as if it felt like it, and he shifted around for a moment. Something hard and heavy was dropped on his foot, and he grunted lowly and pulled his foot away from the thing. He supposed it was a hardpack being dropped on him, he supposed on purpose.
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After a moment, he felt someone grab his face and twist it up. Crosshair grunted and grabbed the wrist holding his head up in a tight grip. He felt another hand on his cheek and fingers forcing one of his eyes to open and then the other. The grip around his chin disappeared, and Cross rubbed his chin and eyes shortly.
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This had to be this Quack person, he was the medic after all, it made sense for him to take a look at the damage the flashbang made. The roughness was unnecessary though, but it's nothing new to Crosshair, it's not like the Kaminoans were ever gentle either. He'll just comply, even if Crosshair really doesn't want THIS Reg around him when he's so vulnerable. He felt his stomach turn slightly, and he forced himself not to throw up.
Quack was being unnecessarily rough. Pivot saw how he purposely let his hardpack fall onto Crosshair's foot and how he twisted the sniper's head around to look into his eyes. And before all that, Quack just shoved him forward without warning as well. Pivot knows that Crosshair is not Quack's favorite, but now he's just being rude without reason.
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Pivot stood up from where he was sitting and walked over to the two. Quack was mumbling something under his breath and digging around in his trauma kit.
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"Can I assist you?" Pivot asked while kneeling next to Crosshair, who looked really miserable. He was putting pressure on his eyes and obviously tried not to rub them constantly; the flash must have hurt his eyes even more, thanks to his enhanced eyesight.
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"Sure, Piv, whatever," Quack said without looking up. Instead, he grabbed an antibiotic, slapped Crosshairs's arms away from his face, and twisted his head to the side to administer it into his neck. The sniper grunted a little by the sudden movement and sitting of the shot, though he didn't say anything, to Pivot's surprise.
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"You should be a little more gentle." Piv dared to say, Quack grunted: "Why?"
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Ā "Because he can't see or hear you? A little heads up would be nice, don't you think?"
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"And why should I do that?" Quack said, aggravated and forced Crosshair to look up so he could take in the burn the sniper had on his neck. Crosshair still wouldn't say a thing; he just let it all happen with his fists clenched and resting on his knees. He was obviously uncomfortable, but he still didn't make a move to do something against it.
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"Because he is your patient and the well-being of your patient is important," Pivot said, while Quack looked for something again, Pivot handed him a pad dipped in bacta for the burn, and he took it.
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"Leave your head up," Quack grunted while forcing Cross to look up again.
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Ā "He can't hear you," Pivot said and watched the medic closely as he pressed the pad onto the burn, which wasn't really necessary since it wasn't bleeding all that much, but the way Quack put pressure on the wound, Pivot thought that it would soon start to bleed more.
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Pivot saw how the sniper was digging his fingers into his palms and felt bad for him more and more. Quack was digging around in his medkit with one hand, so Pivot sat a bit more upright and gently touched Crosshair's shoulder. He visibly tensed up, so Piv gave him a light pat and reached around his neck to hold the pad Quack was still pressing on the burn.
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"I'll hold it for you." He just said, Quack, let go and continued searching for what he was looking for. Pivot gently held the pad against the burn. He lifted it shortly and looked at it, confirming his thinking that it indeed started to bleed now; his own medical training screamed to him to put a burn ointment onto it, cool it, and wrap a bandage around it, but he continued watching the medic digging through his med kit.
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Ā He lowered his hand to dispose of the pad and get a new one. Crosshair lowered his head again, and Pivot could see how much pain the sniper was in. Eyes pressed shut, and face contorted in pain, he let his shoulders slump, and his head hang slightly. Crosshair's hand twitched, seemingly wanting to put pressure on his eyes again, but he resisted the urge; he was pale even if it was hard to see in the evening light, and he breathed slowly. Why is he not saying anything? Why is he just letting this happen?
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Pivot placed a compress to the bleeding burn wound as gently as he dared; he knew how much burns hurt, and Cross got a nasty burn on his neck, though treated properly, it would heal just fine.
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"Well, can't find the eye drops for this, it'll pass on its own anyway." Quack moved to pack his stuff in, but Pivot pulled the bag closer to him, disposed of the used compress, and took out the small container holding the burning ointment
"A cloth soaked in bacta should do the trick, too." Pivot said casually, "And maybe another injection, just in case the burn becomes infected."
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Quack rolled his eyes, grabbed another injection, and turned back to Crosshair. "Head up." He said annoyed
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"He. Can't. Hear you." Pivot said sternly, Quack forced Cross to look up again and, to Pivot's shock, administered the medication right onto the burn, making Crosshair grunt painfully and finch together.
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"Quack, what are you doing?" Pivot said calmly but with slight anger.
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"What does it look like? I'm treating him," the medic just answered.
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"You are being unnecessarily rough; it is very uncalled for." Quack didn't answer to that and instead just soaked a cloth in bacta. Pivot gently turned Crosshair's head to look at the burn. "It bleeds much more now."
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The medic still didn't respond.
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Piv looked up to look at Crosshair's face, and when he did, he saw that he had tears in his eyes, and they were slowly flowing down his cheeks. The sniper lifted his hand again and wiped them away quickly.
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"There, one bacta-soaked cloth coming right up," Quack said sarcastically and moved to seemingly slap the cloth into Crosshair's face, but Pivot quickly acted and grabbed his wrist, stopping him from violating Crosshair even more.
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"For fuck's sake, Quack, would you quit it already! He is injured!!" Pivot snapped and stared down his brother, who finally looked at him, too. "As a medic, it is your responsibility to help him with his injuries and not hurt him more!"
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Quack's face distorted into angry confusion, and he ripped his hand free of Pivot's grasp. "Why are you acting so weird, Piv?"
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He did not just say that. "Me?!"
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Everyone else now looked over to them.
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"You're the one acting up! I know you don't like Crosshair, but you are taking it way too far with this!! Don't you see how much in pain he is?!"
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"He doesn't seem to mind."
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Ā "Are you kriffing me?!"
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Crosshair suddenly interrupted the argument by spinning around and vomiting. He slid off the log and was bending over it, clinging onto the bark, and threw up bile and the little food he had in his stomach, then he retched for a moment while groaning miserably and gasping for air. Pivot placed a hand on his back and checked Crosshair over, bending down to look at his face worriedly. "He probably has a concussion too, and here you are jostling him around like a ragdoll!"
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Don't throw up, just don'tā¦
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Crosshair can't afford to look more miserable than he already does. His head was twisted up, and the medic pressed a pad onto the burn on the side of his neck. First, it was relieving, but the pressure was painful, and Crosshair bit back a hiss. The medic was obviously doing this on purpose, but truth be told, he was used to this kind of treatment from the Kaminoans, so he just stayed quiet and focused on not throwing up.
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He heard muffled voices; he couldn't make out a single word, though, just the tone of them, he thinks there are two, which is kind of unsettling him a bit. A hand was placed on his left shoulder, and he flinched shortly at the touch. The person seemingly noticed because they gave him a light pat, then the pressure on his neck disappeared. The pad was then gently held against the burn, which was probably bleeding more than before now.
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Crosshair supposed that it was Kolto; he couldn't think of anyone else volunteering to come and assist the medic. The hand on his neck moved away for a moment, and Crosshair lowered his head slowly. He pressed his burning eyes shut and resisted the urge to rub them again. Another small wave of nausea came over him, and he felt his stomach squirm. Still, he forced himself to sit still and wait until he could somehow be alone, so he breathed slowly and only focused on that.
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Crosshair felt something soft being placed gently at the wound on his neck, a compress, probably. After a moment, it was gone, and he heard someone talk again, right after the person was done. Crosshair was forced to look up again, and he bit back a grunt but let it out as something pierced through the burn, another injection, probably. Crosshair's eyes burned, and he felt them tear up. The constant twisting and craning of his head and neck didn't exactly help with the nausea either.
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He heard more muffled talking; it sounded angry. Were Kolto and the medic fighting? He felt someone gently turning his head, probably to look at the wound. Then he felt warm tears flowing down his face that were quickly wiped away with someone's hand. Crosshair suddenly realized that this couldn't be Kolto. The commander's arm was twisted thanks to him. This someone was using two hands and didn't smell like cigarettes either, who was it then?
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Crosshair felt something cold prickle against his face, bacta by the smell of it, and heard an aggravated voice, it was still very muffled, but the person on his left was persumingly shouting at the medic. The shouting got more and more outraged, and Cross's gut suddenly hit with another wave of nausea, though this time he couldn't swallow it down.
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He turned around and slid off the log he was sitting on. He bent over it and vomited. He didn't throw up much; there was almost nothing to throw up in the first place, so he retched for a moment, which made his sides ache, and throat burn; he was sure he let out a groan. Crosshair half collapsed onto the log, gasping for air and clinging to the bark.
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He felt too vulnerable like this; he can't hear or see anything, he's disoriented, tired, and hurt. A hand was placed on his back before it moved up to cup the back of his neck, rubbing it gently. Cross hated to admit that the gesture felt comforting. For a moment, he thought it was Hunter, but dismissed it right away again. Hunter wasn't here, and the possibility that their paths would ever cross again was extremely low.
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His head was pounding, and he forced himself to stop thinking and just go with whatever happens next. It's not like he could do anything about it anywayā¦
Pivot was outraged.
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Bullying someone who is severely injured is just wrong. Quack's behavior is inexcusable. He cupped the back of Crosshair's neck to comfort him and rubbed it gently.
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"He is our brother; we don't treat each other like this."
He then heard Quack scoff behind him. "He's not my brother, he's not even a real clone, just look at him! A defective hotshot who thinks that he's so much better than us and who doesn't care about anyone but himself, that's all he is!"
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"That's not true," Pivot said, determined.
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Ā "Why are you defending him?"
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"Because he obviously won't do it himself!" Pivot stood up and went right into his brother's face, "Defective or not, he doesn't deserve to be walked over like this all the time!"
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Quack scoffed again and crossed his arms. "I hate him, and I will say that out loud."
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"You can hate him if you want, but that doesn't give you the right to treat him like this! He's already having a hard time; stop making it worse for him!"
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Quack shook his head and packed his kit together, then he stood up and faced Pivot. "Fine, go ahead, go and be chummy with him if you desire it so much, but don't come back crying to me when you realize the truth about him!"
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He threw the cloth he still had in his hand over Pivot's shoulder and walked away over to treat the rest of the squad.
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"I already know the truthā¦" Pivot said low, if Quack heard him, he couldn't tell- he just kept walking and silently started to treat the wounds of the others. Pivot sighed and kneeled back down next to the sniper, who was still draped over the tree trunk as before, but he was breathing more calmly now.
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He patted him on the back and gently prodded him to sit back up again. Crosshair complied and was now leaning against the log. Pivot pulled out his own small med kit and pulled out some tissues, which he used to wipe away the bile and vomit around Crosshair's mouth and nose.
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Cross moved his head away, understandingly, he supposed, no one likes being treated like a little kid who can't clean themselves on their own. But Crosshair can't do it on his own at the moment, so Piv gently turned Crosshair's face back around and continued cleaning him up. With another tissue, he wiped away the tears, and after that was done, he disposed of the tissues and gave Crosshair a pat on the shoulder.
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He pulled off the cloth Quack threw over his shoulder and put more bacta gel on it from the small tube he had in his med kit. He then took one of Crosshair's hands, placed the cloth in it, and guided it to his face. Pivot placed the cloth over the sniper's eyes and guided Crosshair's other hand up so he would hold it with both hands. Cross did, and Piv reached for a bandage to secure it.
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He let Crosshair know what he was doing next by touching his arm and going back up to his head. He gently wrapped the bandaid around Crosshair's head so he wouldn't have to hold it constantly. Pivot changed sides and quickly treated the burn on Crosshair's neck with burn ointment and bacta, then he put a big plaster on the wound to keep it clean.
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He pulled out a slight sedative and handed it to Crosshair in hopes he would recognize it. He apparently did because he handed it back with a slight nod, and Pivot administered the medication. Pivot packed his med kit together and put it away, then sat down next to Crosshair, hooking one foot under one of Crosshair's in wanting to comfort him, and so the sniper would know where he was.
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After a moment, Crosshair said with a raspy voice.
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"You're one of the Reg's, are you?"
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Pivot didn't exactly know how to answer, so Cross could understand him, so he bumped his elbow on his arm gently and slowly traced a star on Crosshair's temple, at the same spot where he had the star tattoo on his own temple. The sniper seemed to understand.
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"Why?"
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The question seemed genuine, and Pivot felt a slight sting in his chest. Again, he didn't know how to answer since Cross couldn't see or hear, so Pivot just placed a hand on Crosshair's neck and squeezed it gently.
He left his hand there and just held his brother.
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After a while, Crosshair seemed to get sleepy, so Piv removed his upper armour and guided him to lie down on the ground, giving him his medkit as a pillow. It was small, but it would work. He placed his hand on Crosshair's chest, hoping that the sniper wouldn't mind, and got comfortable beside him.
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Pivot could feel Crosshair's heartbeat, which slowed down after a few moments, telling him that the marksman had fallen asleep, yet he left his hand resting on his chest, feeling the even breathing and steady beating.
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He made a silent promise that he would look after Crosshair until the sniper could look after himself again. Cross probably wouldn't like this, but he will have no choice but to comply. Pivot watched the others settle around him, making a small fire and giving out rations. He noticed that Quack sat far away from him and Crosshair, which made his heart sting.
Did his brother hate him now because he defended Crosshair?
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Pivot doesn't know, but decided to first worry about Crosshair. He would let Quack pout for a while before he tried to find an agreement.
"Wow, you're really good at this, you should do this professionally" okay but have you considered that I don't want to because that would suck all the fun out of this thing that I do for fun and entertainment and it's actually a conscious choice to not do this professionally because that would destroy the very reason I do this to begin with