Stolen Nights And Shared Dreams

okay guys so I was watching the livestream of Dee Bradley Baker with his live signing today, + a fan had him quote:

“Oh I’m much worse” as crosshair, and he already had an extra raspy voice because he just finished doing a bunch of recordings. So it’s like HEAVY RASPY CROSSHAIR VOICE!!

he then continues to say while he’s laughing about it, “that’s a line I improvised, I remember that, that’s a funny line. Funny old crosshair” AND I LOST IT laughing + screaming!

Dee was like “it brings me a pang of delight”.

But not the fandom losing their shit already at the line when it was said, but having him repeat it as extra raspy crosshair was not on my bingo list for the year OMG!!

Ok, I've been trying to figure out what I wanted the most, then I remembered you said we could send in more than one, so I'll send in this one and maybe send in another later on (if you're not too swamped with requests.)

Malachite - Hunter

Willow - "Listen to me, everything will be fine."

Pendulum - A hug from behind and a kiss to the neck.

Thanks so much for doing this really cool event!! <3

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Hi Carol! I'm glad you were able to send one in! I do have to appologise for this being on a bit of a melancholic note, though. I was struck with inspiration and wrote like a madwoman 😅 I hope you enjoy it but if not, I can always try again 💜

Now for this spell, I will take a pendulum made of Malachite and let it swing from a willow twig...!

Warnings: reader is referred to as a female (once) and having breasts (also once) otherwise i don't think there's any other descriptors. Anxiety, calm down of said anxiety and the reminding of one's place in their found family. Mentions of how much care there is for reader by the rest of the batch. Dialogue prompt in blue

A Spell for Reassurance of a Found Family

Hunter x Reader

and bonus: Batch x Reader (Platonic)

Anxiety flooded your system. Your veins thrummed as your ears pounded - your heart racing faster than a Kaadu with the promise of tlickweed. You could feel the very muscles under your skin tingling, as if they were power lines - taut to the point of almost snapping with lightening trapped within. Your vision was a bit blurred and your breathing picked up to accomodate for the rate your heart was going. Sweat began to fill at your pits, under your breasts and at the top of your lip.

You were offically panicking.

Not terribly far from you, Hunter picked up on the sudden distress within you - not only could he practically feel the anxious behaviour as if it were his own...but your dear batch-er was very good at details, and he knew you well. This was not something to let you work out on your own, this was your body crying for help.

Your beloved slowly stood from his seat at the computer interface, and made his way to you. He wanted to get to you as soon as humanly possible - but was not willing to risk scaring you in such a heightened state. Using the full length of his legs, Hunter was behind you soon enough and with a soft call of your name he made his preseance known.

You turned, face riddled with surprise, only for shame and guilt flood your visage before you quickly spun back around. A desperate attempt to hide from his view

"Hey," Hunter reached out and took your wrist in his hand, his other wrapping around your middle to pull you close "Hey, listen."

"But-"

"Listen to me..." he implored in a whisper

He waited until you stopped struggling and wriggling in his hold.

"Fine...I'm listening" you huffed with a pout forming at your lips

"Everything...is going to be...alright" he hushed

He pulled you further back until your spine pressed to his chest, his face dipping forward a bit to kiss your neck at the perfect angle - the perfect spot to leave goosebumps prickling across your skin in response. And he gleefully and selfishly felt his chest swell with pride at the pebbled surface fly across your flesh.

You whined softly, but let out a deep sigh

"You don't know that" your urged softly, as if your words held too much gravity to be said in a single note higher than it already had

"Yes, I do" Hunter whispered in soft and sweet tone, the hand holding your wrist guiding it to your middle so that both his arms were around you. So he could hug you tightly to him.

You were silent for a moment, as the cacophany of emotions ran about your mind and soul. Your eyes closing to try and desperately hold back the tears that began to fill your lashline. And unknowingly, you began to lean further and further back - as if you were subconsciously trying to sink into your lover's chest.

"Everything...is...its just so much*" your words came out like a whimper, voice cracked from the weight of your emotions

"I know" he confirmed softly, his face leaning forward so that his cheek could rest against your own "But, you're not alone in this"

You silently, leaned your head to the side to touch your cheek to his - earning you a soft hum of delight and his arms to tighten their hold just a bit to give you a gentle squeeze

"You're not" he urged "You have me...and you'll have my brothers ready to help too"

"That'd be a waste of their time" you mumbled softly

"It wouldn't. I know you think that you could just slip away and nobody would notice - I do know how your brain works in these times, you know" he smiled softly "And it's wrong"

you let out a half-hearted scoff, pulling one of your arms up and out of his hold to rub your eye

"If you looked so much as remotely distress all of them would be ready to throw down" Hunter pointed out softly "Tech might not be very affectionate the way most people are, but he always peeks at you when you're struggling with a task. Barely an hour later and I'll see him tinkering and editing it so that next time it's easier for you"

You raised a brow in suspicion, but let him continue

"Echo has relaxed a lot more since you've been around to help with everything, and he's always the first one to ask if you need anything when there's a supply stop." he rocked your forms side to side softly as if the gentle sway would help shoo your negative feelings "Wrecker will watch you with Omega and is just so elated that she has a formal feminine role model - not to mention he takes every opportunity to ask if you've got enough 'your stuff' to make you feel comfortable. And I really think he loves running off to go shopping with your and Omega"

A small snort of a giggle wriggled past your lips. Your shopping outtings were always chaotic but a lot of fun.

"Then there's Omega." Hunter let out a sift sigh "You know...I think she actually loves you more than I do"

Another giggle erupted from you, his one hand reaching across your torso to wipe a tear trail from your cheek.

"She follows you like a duckling, she watches everything you do and tries to emulate it, and i wish you could see the twinkle in her eyes whenever you so much as show up in the vacinity. You're the first person she says goodnight to and the first one to get a hug in the morning." he let out a chuckle "She'll talk about your non-stop, even about things we all know and about situations we were present for. The little girl adores you with every fibre of her being"

you carefully turned in his hold, your lover removing his lean into you to give you a better chance at doing so

"And you..." you whispered, gaze tender and vulnerable

You watched his tattoo distort as a loving smile not only spread across his lips but reached his eyes and creasedthem as well.

"And me." he aggreed "But you always had me. Right from the moment I set eyes on you"

You felt your cheeks warm at his admission and you looped your arms around his neck - his own pulling you in close to his chest once again, although this time you were facing him

"I'm sorry" you whispered

"Nothin' to be sorry for" your beloved commando soothed

"I was being silly, emotional" you pressed

"No, you were just overwhelmed. A life on the go isn't easy - especially one where you're a fugitive" he sighed, feeling guilty for having pulled you into this life

"I chose to be here, Hunter. I chose to be with you...all of you" you smiled softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek

"I don't think you were aware of the consequences" came the soft grumble, tho his lips couldnt fully pull down - pleased by your affectionate display

"Well, you did kinda come crashing into my office like a tornado, packed half my belongings and began towing me away" you offered, feeling lighter by the subject

"Yeah...that...that wasn't very respectful of me, I should've explained better-"

"You were sprinting off Tipocca with Omega and your brothers" you defended

"Most of my brothers" he corrected quietly

you nodded softly and pulled him in for a hug

"It wasn't the last conversation you'll have with him. I may not know everything, but that much I know." you comforted "Given a better chance, he'll choose you - he'll choose all of you"

"Us" he corrected you once again "He'll choose all of us"

you made a bit of a face as you tried to think up a quick response

"You're part of this family too" Hunter cooed, placing his hand on your cheek "Cross can handle 2 sisters, I'm sure he'll get along with you and Omega much easier than us four"

"And why's that...?"

Hunter only smiled knowingly, but when you opened your lips to protest his lack on words...

"THERE YOU TWO ARE!" Wrecker's voice boomed happily "Been lookin' everywhere for you!"

"I did mention they were likely still on the marauder" Tech grumbled fixing his goggles

"We're...not...interrupting somethin', are we...?" Echo asked slowly, his brow cocked and his golden hues darting between yourforms - taking stock of you both

Before you could answer, you name came ringing out as a cheer and only half a heartbeat after did Omega collide into you. Her arms wrapped around your hips and her cheek pressed against the small of your back

"I missed you...!" she beamed and quickly shuffled to the side to tear your arm from Hunter and began to tug you towards the hatch "You gotta see this! I found the most beautiful and weird thing..! And you'll never believe what it's called! Its th-"

Hunter smiled affectionately as he watched omega cart you off, only to notice his brothers staring

"What?"

"He's got it baaaaaad" Wrecker snickered

"Precisely," Tech agreed turning to walk right back out of the ship "Good thing you all have me here to keep this operation running, with Hunter fueled on hormones and emotions now-"

Hunter gawked as his face flushed darkly, then turned to Echo for help

"Pfft." Echo quickly turned his head to the side and held his hand over his mouth

"I hate. you. all"

Build-a-spell event

Build-a-spell masterlist

Divider by me

Reblog divider by dystopicjumpsuit 💜

Wrecker: I turned out perfectly fine! Echo: Wrecker, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast Wrecker: I DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN!!!

another throwback comic while I'm cooking something else in 3D

Hello! Congratulations on another follow event!! That is so awesome!!🎉🎉

I was looking at the list of AUs that you write out, and was wondering if you could write a Fairytale AU with Wrecker please? And the ball could be a masquerade which would add onto the not knowing who the slipper belongs to mystery! This would also be with a gender neutral reader please!

Masquerade

Summary: You’ve been pushing off your marriage for as long as you can. But your uncle has finally gotten fed up with your procrastination. He holds a massive ball, in the hopes that you might find a partner. You don’t have any control over the party…but you can demand that it’s a masquerade.

Pairing: Pre Wrecker x F!Reader

Word Count: 2648

Prompt: Cinderella AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright! I wasn't sure, for a long time, as to how to write this, but I think I just needed to write something that wasn't an AU to get something out that I liked. I hope you like it!

The room is filled with people clad in stunning gowns, intricate suits, and glittering masks in every shade of color known to man. Flowers have been picked from the gardens, woven together, and wrapped around the pillars around the dance floor filling the room with a soft floral scent that you would normally enjoy.

But, from where you’re standing near the refreshment table, nursing a fruity drink that’s so sweet that a single sip made you nauseous, you can’t help but think that the people here look like glittering bugs.

And all of them, every single one, are here on the off chance that they will impress you enough for you to marry them.

Disgusting.

You set your glass back on the table, smooth the skirt of your leaf green dress, and absently ensure that your mask (designed to look like different flowers and vines) is still attached to your face, and then you turn to the crowd.

No one will recognize you, that was the whole point of the masquerade, maybe you’ll find someone interesting enough to talk to. You’re not going to hold your breath though, in your experience, nobility is incredibly vapid and shallow.

Honestly, you’d have a more interesting conversation with the orchids in the garden.

Still, if you don’t even try, you’re uncle will throw the mother of all fits, and then choose a partner for you, and you’d sooner throw yourself into a river than allow that to happen.

So you plaster a fake smile on your face and start weaving through the crowd.

A few people stop your wandering so they can talk to you, though when the conversation turns to you, well not you, but to the crowned princess (who is you, but they don’t know that), you excuse yourself. Especially when they start insulting you.

You really don’t need to hear how people think that you’re lazy or entitled or how ‘when I’m chosen I’ll put her in her place’. 

Yeah, not going to happen. Ever.

Eventually, you find yourself sitting on the balcony overlooking the gardens. It’s a nice evening, not so hot that it’s sticky and miserable outside, but not so cold that you need a shawl to stay warm. You can still hear the music from outside, but no one else is outside with you.

Of course not. They expect the Princess to be inside.

You tilt your head back so you’re able to watch the stars. You trace constellations with your eyes, your gaze darting from one to the next, the myriad of stories racing through your mind as you find each constellation.

You’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of footsteps on the balcony, and you lower your head to see who’s joined you outside.

A man.

Clad in a white suit and wearing a mask that almost looks like it was crafted out of crystal.

He looks surprised to see you, “Apologies,” He says with a sketched bow, “I thought that I’d be alone out here.”

You tilt your head, “The balcony is large enough that we can be alone together.”

He chuckles, a low noise that makes you feel pleasantly warm, and then he sinks onto one of the other benches. You watch him, out of the corner of your eye, as he removes one of his shoes and massages his feet.

“Do your shoes not fit?” You ask, unable to stop yourself.

“They’re new,” He explains, “My brothers and I got our invitations the day before yesterday.”

You blink at him, startled. That implies that he’s a commoner and that his family won the raffle. “Well, congratulations then. I understand that the raffle was very popular.”

He pauses and glances at you, and then a smile crosses his face, “Thanks. It was actually my older brother who put in the ticket, on behalf of our younger sister. She couldn’t come, she’s too young. But she liked seeing us all dressed up.”

“I bet she did. In my experience, all little girls like dress-up parties.”

He grins at you, “My brother would ask you to cite your sources.”

Your head tilts back as you laugh, genuinely amused, “Oh, very well. My sources are that I was a little girl once.” You grin at him, “I used to sit on my parents' bed when I was little and watch them get ready for parties, it was like magic to me.” You pause, “Of course, then I grew up and I realized how much I hated dressing up myself.”

“Well, you might hate it, but I happen to think that you look amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like a forest spirit or something.”

You’re glad that you’re wearing a mask, suddenly, so he’s not able to see the flustered flush on your face. “Well, thank you.” You reply as you lightly touch the flower tucked behind your ear, “That was the inspiration.”

“I can tell.” He pauses, “You know, I saw a forest spirit once. I was just a kid, and my siblings swear that I imagined the whole thing, but I know what I saw.”

“You’re lucky they didn’t kidnap you,” You reply.

“Don’t I know it,” He replies with a laugh, “But after that day I always felt more at home in the forests than anywhere else. I like to think that I got a forest spirit’s blessing that day.”

“Maybe you did. They do as they like, after all.” You fall silent for a moment, though you keep glancing at him, “I’m sorry,” You finally burst, “I have to ask, is your mask made of crystal?”

He looks surprised for a moment, but then he grins, “Sure is. The mask was sold with the suit. Even the shoes are meant to look like crystal.”

You lean over slightly to look at his shoes, “Well, no wonder they’re so uncomfortable,” You marvel, “How did they manage that, I wonder?”

“No idea, but the salesman was thrilled to shove both of them on me for cheap. They’re pretty comfortable, I keep forgetting that I’m wearing a mask at all.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it? The whole point of today is the masquerade.”

“I thought the whole point was for the Princess to find a partner,” The man jokes.

You tilt your head, “Is that why you’re here? To marry the Princess?”

“I’m sure the princess wouldn’t be interested in someone like me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well, I’m kind of big. And a little rough around the edges. I don’t know the princess, only ever seen her on the holo, but she’s always seemed so dignified and put together. And, like, serene I guess.”

“Sounds like you admire her,” You murmur.

“I do admire her. After the King died and the Queen retreated from the public eye, people expected her to quail under the attention suddenly focused on her, but she didn’t. She stood firm and took all of the scrutiny. She was just a kid, it was…impressive.”

A small smile pulls on your lips, “You’re one of the few people here who have something nice to say about the princess.”

“Yeah, well…” He rubs the back of his neck, “I might have crushed on her, bad, when I was a kid.”

Your smile widens, “That’s cute.”

His face flushes, at least, the part you can see under the mask, “She looked like she could use a friend and a protector, and I figured I could be both. But I grew out of it.”

He glances at you, and his flush deepens at the look of amusement on your face, “A-anyway, isn’t that why you’re here? To marry the Princess?”

“Hm? Oh.” You lean back on the bench, “No, I’m here because my Uncle insisted. If I had my way, I wouldn’t be here at all, alas—”

“Do you not like the princess?”

“Hm…more like I don’t like the idea of marrying someone I don’t know.” You reply.

“I suppose that makes sense.” He folds his arms, “Do you think the Princess is happy for all of this?” He tilts his head back towards the ballroom.

You hum thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t be, in her shoes.” You absently smooth your skirt again, and then you stand, “Would you like to dance?”

“What? Here?”

You shrug, “Why not? The music is loud enough, and we don’t have to worry about people bumping into us.”

He stares at you a moment longer, and then he smiles and stands, “Alright. I’d love to dance.” He stands and offers you his hand, and you eagerly place your hand into his, “I should warn you, I’ve never danced before.”

“That’s alright, I’m sure I’ve had enough lessons to make up for it.” You joke as he, hesitantly, places his hand on your waist. You beam up at him, “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

The pair of you dance for hours, or so it seems. With you teaching him how to move and where to place his hands, and having genial conversation when you take breaks.

You quickly realize that you like him.

Genuinely like him.

You still don’t like the idea of marrying someone you don’t know, but if it’s him then maybe it won’t be so bad.

And then the party ends, and he’s gone and you never got his name. And all that’s left of his presence is the lingering warmth in your hand from where his hand had been wrapped around yours, and the crystalline mask that you found near a side exit half an hour after he left.

Thoughtfully, you bring the mask to your bedroom and set it on your dresser as you change out of your costume, your mind racing.

There aren’t many tailors who make masks, so tracking who made his mask will be easy enough. And, hopefully, the tailor will remember who bought the mask.

You hope so.

You finish donning your sleepwear and lightly trail a finger across the crystal of the mask. A smile crosses your face. Yes. He’s your choice. And if your uncle doesn’t like it…well, you’re over 18 and no longer need a regent. If he doesn’t like it, then he can pound sand.

It’s been three weeks since the masquerade, and Wrecker is still kicking himself for losing his mask. He knows that he must have dropped it at the palace, but it’s not like he can just show up and ask if he can look for it.

It’s a shame since Omega wanted to collect the masks.

Oh well, that’s life he supposes.

He runs his hand over his head as he heads downstairs, he lightly ruffles Omega’s hair, pulling a disgruntled noise from her, and then wanders into the kitchen where Echo and Fives are cooking breakfast.

Or, well, Fives is cooking breakfast and Echo is making coffee.

“Smells good,” Wrecker mumbles.

“It's better than good, the eggs are fresh and Crosshair made the bread this morning.” Fives replies.

“Crosshair did?”

“He’s working through some anger issues,” Echo pipes up, “We have lots of dough.”

“Oh. Well…good.”

“Morning,” Tech says as he walks into the room, clearly having been awake for hours now, “Have you heard the news?”

“No,”

“Nope.”

“I just woke up.”

Echo, Fives, and Wrecker speak in unison, causing Tech to blink at them. “Ah. Well, the Crowned Regent has been forcibly removed from the Throne. And the Crowned Princess was Coronated late last night. So she is Queen now.”

“Shouldn’t there have been a celebration?” Echo asks.

“I am sure that there are reasons—” Tech starts, only to pause as the doorbell rings.

“I got it!” Omega shouts, and then she scrapes her chair against the floor and they listen to her run to the front door, “Yes? Can we help yo—” Omega stops midsentence, and then she runs to the kitchen door, “Um.”

“What’s wrong, Meg?” Fives asks.

“The Queen is at the door. With her entourage.”

No one moves for a moment, and then they all start moving at the same time, scrambling into the living room with a frantic energy. The new Queen is standing in the foyer, thoughtfully looking at a picture of the group of brothers.

“Your Majesty,” Tech blurts, bowing deeply, “You honor us with your presence.”

She pauses and turns to look at them, a small smile on her face, and Wrecker is suddenly struck with the realization that he knows that smile. He spent hours with the woman who had the same smile.

“Please,” The Queen faces them properly, “There’s no need for that. I apologize for arriving so early.”

Wrecker stares at the Queen, his jaw slightly dropped. If the smile wasn’t proof enough, the voice was. She’s the person he spent the evening dancing with.

He confessed about his crush on the princess to the princess. Wrecker groans and presses his hand over his face, “You couldn’t have told me who you were?”

She laughs, “Well, that would have ruined the masquerade aspect, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I was talking about you. To your face.”

“At least it was all kind things, most everyone else was mean.” She says reassuringly.

Wrecker drops his hand away from his face, “Can I ask why you’re here?”

She releases a little hum and pulls something out of her bag, and Wrecker realizes that it’s his mask, “You left this behind. I’m glad you did, honestly, it would have been hard to find you without it.” She offers him the mask, and Wrecker takes it.

“Thank you, I was worried I’d never see it again.”

She beams at him, “Your name is Wrecker, yes? The Tailor told me.”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

Her smile widens, “I am not looking for a spouse, Wrecker. The idea of marriage makes me want to run screaming for the hills, however, my uncle filled the palace with people who support him, and I find myself in need of skilled bodyguards.”

“...are you offering us a job?” Fives asks.

“If you’re agreeable to the idea.” She replies, “In the last week there have been no less than three assassination attempts.”

“We have a lot of brothers,” Hunter says from the back door, “I’m sure we can make things safe for you.”

“You have my gratitude.” She turns to the man standing behind her, “Lesian, if you would?”

“Of course, your Majesty.” The man bows, and then pulls some paper from a bag he’s carrying, “I have some paperwork that you all should look over.”

Wrecker watches as his brothers follow the older man out of the living room, and then flickers his gaze back to the Queen. Her attention is focused back on the pictures on the walls, and he can’t help but think that she looks very lonely.

“Those were taken at the beach three years ago, I think.” Wrecker explains, “Hunter had just gotten custody of Omega, she was so small at the time.”

“I’ve never been.”

“To the beach?”

“Yeah. Father always promised to bring me one day, but after he died it just never happened.”

“I’ll bring you.”

She laughs, “Will you now?”

“Absolutely.” Wrecker folds his arms, “I know you said you’re not looking for a husband, but how about a friend?”

She turns to look at him, surprise clear on her face, and then she smiles at him, soft and warm, “I’ve never had a friend before.”

“That’s alright, I can teach you how it’s done.” Wrecker grins, “And if friendship turns into something more, well…that’s okay too, right?”

At that, she laughs. “So, that little crush on me-?”

“Didn’t fade as much as I thought.” He shrugs, “Luckily, I’m a patient man. Now, I have paperwork I need to fill out. Would you like to have breakfast with us?”

A blinding smile crosses her face, and Wrecker realizes that he’s in love with her, “It would be my honor, Wrecker.”

Bathroom reveries

Summary: Echo has a bath. That’s literally it. Established relationship, Echo x GN reader.

Word count: 1060

Warnings: N/A, possibly inaccurate medical talk???

Authors note: I just wanted to do some fluff for one of my favourite boys. Lmk if you like it. My inbox is open for chats and requests. ❤️

Echo slipped deeper into the water, a sigh escaping his lips. He’d not had a bath before. The water was warm around his shoulders, the soft bubbles tickling his skin and easing him into relaxation. You had helped him remove his prosthetics, which had been causing his limbs to ache for quite some time, and then helped him into the water. At first the prospect of a bath seemed a useless hassle to him, but seeing how much you enjoyed them had him acquiescing to see what all the fuss was about. In the little bathroom with the steam fogging up the windows, he had to admit, he got it. Bathing was quite relaxing. He sank deeper into the water, eyes closing.

A knock at the door interrupted his reveries. “It’s only me, can I come in?” Your voice called in from the other side.

“Mhm.”

You opened the door, leaning your weight against the frame and cocked your eyebrow. Echo hadn’t even opened his eyes. “I knew a bath would do your limbs good.”

He smiled. “Yeah, yeah, happy now?”

“Very. I’m just making a cuppa, d’you want one?”

“No thank you, Cyare.”

“Okay. Don’t fall asleep in there.” You wagged a finger at him despite how he still had his eyes closed.

“Oh actually,” he called out, eyes shooting open. “Join me?”

“Give me two minutes.”

Echo watched you gently shut the door, his gaze lingering in your direction. You’d known each other since before his accident. As a medic on Kamino, you’d had plenty of interaction with the clones, and when he’d been found by Rex and the Batch, it was only natural for you to treat him. From then on, you’d sort of been paired together and had joined the Batch as their unofficial medic, although the term was ‘escort’. As if Echo needed one, you’d always scoffed. Through the months you’d become closer still, and it felt inevitable to the two of you that you’d end up together. Echo still remembered the shaking in your hands as you’d held his, eyes wide with anxiety when you told him how you felt.

That was four years ago. The home you’d built on Pabu for the two of you had quickly grown to become a safe zone for Echo, a place where he could relax slightly from the terrors of war. Not that he minded, since he volunteered to aid Rex and the Rebellion, but his body was beginning to fail him, and he was spending more and more time at home. This was how he had ended up in the bath, your special soaps filling the water and easing his aching muscles.

The door creaked open and you reappeared, holding a mug of tea. He watched as you shut the door, quietly wandered over to him, and sat on the ground. You let your weight lean against the bath on one side, your legs folding up to your chest with your tea cradled in your hands.

“When do you think you’ll be flying back to Rex?”

Echo sighed, brushing his hand over his face. “I dunno. Depends on my knees.”

“Hmm… is the water helping?” You sipped your tea.

“It is actually.”

He watched as you smiled behind the rim of your mug. “Maybe you should take baths more often.”

“Maybe I will. I must be a bloody hassle to get in and out though.”

“I don’t mind looking after you.”

“I'm well aware of that cyar’ika.”

The water splashed slightly as he lifted himself up to a sitting position. With his missing limbs, he struggled not to slip in the bath, but you’d been a Saint (as usual) and bought bath grips for the bottom of the surface. His thighs leant against them, hand gripping the handle of the wall that you’d had installed. When he was comfortable, he shifted so he could lean his arm over the side of the bath to rest his chin against. His fingers drummed against the porcelain.

Your eyes narrowed as he stared at you. “What?”

“I was thinking we should watch a movie later.”

“Ooh, which one?”

“Well-“

You put your mug down, snapping your fingers excitedly. “Oh, Phee was on about a horror that sounds pretty good. Or maybe we should watch something a bit more chill? Wait no, I’ve got it.”

Echo grinned, “go on.”

“Princess Mononoke. You’ll love it, I know it.”

“Alright, I’m happy with that. Is it on the Holonet?”

“Yeah. I’ll get it uploaded so we can watch it in bed.”

The soldier agreed, his head lolling to the side so his cheek was against his forearm. You’d never seen him so relaxed; it was quite the sight. Time seemed to pass quickly as you drank your tea and chatted with Echo, the pair of you easily slipping into conversation. Once the mug was empty, you put it down and dipped your hands into the water.

“Ooh getting a bit cold. Do you wanna get out soon?”

You watched Echo nod. “Please.”

“Okay,” your hands automatically found the shower gel you kept to the side, and squeezed some into your palms. When you started cleaning Echo’s skin, he began to protest but you interrupted with a tut.

“I want to. You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

“I guess there’s no stopping you then.” He tried not to smile but did anyway, turning around so you could reach his back.

Your hands worked mindfully around his spine, something which Echo had always been grateful for. You never treated him like he was delicate, but you were thoughtful and no longer needed to ask if what you were doing was alright. The micro-expressions Echo struggled to keep to himself always told you the answers you were looking for. As he turned around completely, you leant forward and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. The soldier smiled and tilted his head to the side, soapy hand coming up to tilt your chin so he could kiss you.

“Hmm,” he watched your eyes linger shut for a moment. “Legs?”

“I’ll do them.”

When he had finished cleaning his thighs, you helped him up onto the side of the bath so he could hold the handrail as you drained the water. The stub of his left arm found your side.

“Hey,”

“Hey.”

“Thank you.”

You smiled softly, “always.”

Just a couple of High Republic Princes

Kiss Me Then Kiss Me Some More

Tech fans, come get ya’ll’s treat! another tooth ache inducing fluff piece about the bad batch’s beautiful balding man by yours truly. I was delirious with sleep as I wrote the end of this so please forgive any mistakes or whack ass sounding sentences. I’ll will go back through and edit this later. enjoy ya’ll’s cake!

Tag warnings: gtfo younglings, very fluffy and sweet but mildly suggestive, whole lotta kissing, slightly jealous Tech. reader and Tech have only been together for a short time. first ‘I love yous.’ new relationship jittery sweet goodness.

Summary: Tech x fem!reader. you and Tech have only been together for a month and you’re both still discovering new things about each other. On this particular evening, you approach Tech wearing Wrecker’s shirt and for the first time in his life, he’s jealous.

Word count: 2.5k

Taglist: @alegendoftomorrow @techwrecker @stellarbit

Divider by: @general-ida-raven

“Hey, Tech.” You smiled sweetly down at him from where he sat in his bunk. He was stripped down to his blacks snugged under the sorry excuse for a blanket that every clone was issued upon beginning active duty service.

“Hello, cyar’ika.” Tech greeted you while briefly looking up from his datapad, a small smile gracing his features at the sound of your voice. You blushed at his use of the Mando’a term while the butterflies in your stomach took flight.

“Are you busy?” You asked, slightly tipping your head to one side, hands clasped together behind your back.

“Not especially.” He replied, “Are you in need of something?” Tech continued tapping away at the keys of his datapad for another few moments.

“Oh, well I was just wondering..if maybe you’d like to cuddle and watch a holofilm with me?” You looked everywhere but at him while a blush crept its way across your cheeks.

Your relationship with Tech was still quite new, you two only having been together for a month, and you both were still learning to navigate being a couple within the squad.

Sitting more upright in his bunk, Tech set aside his datapad and adjusted his goggles that had slid down his nose. His eyes settled on you as he looked you over standing before him. You were wearing lounge shorts and a shirt that was several sizes too big with the Republic emblem on the shoulder of it’s left sleeve and Wrecker’s CT number and name sewn in Aurebesh into the hem. Though, Tech could tell it was his largest brother’s shirt simply by the size of it.

“You are wearing one of Wrecker’s shirts.” Tech stated and raised a quizzical brow as the unfamiliar feeling of mild jealously tugged at his heart. He inwardly scolded himself for feeling such a way but found that it was not so easily dismissed.

“Oh, yeah, he gave it to me when the ship’s air conditioning was broken a few months ago since my GAR issued sleepwear was long sleeved.” You answered him quickly, taking note of how his expression had changed after he had gotten a proper look at you.

Tech nodded but didn’t speak for a moment, seemingly lost in a thought that made his features harden just a bit. You glanced over his face as his lips pursed ever so slightly and immediately recognized the slight jealously he must be feeling over you wearing his brother’s shirt.

You dropped your gaze down to the shirt in question that hung very loosely on your body and then brought your eyes to look at Tech again, his expression unchanged as he stared off in thought, no doubt trying to wrestle with his feelings.

You couldn’t help the soft and barely audible “oh, Tech” that left your lips as you realized what he was feeling.

You smiled softly, deciding then that you’d make sure he felt every bit of your devotion for him in that moment. Climbing into his bunk, you reached for the privacy curtain and pulled it closed with a gentle swoosh. Turning from your seated position to face him, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Tech snapped out of his introspection at the contact of your lips to his face, feeling his heart rate begin to quicken slightly. He noticed that you had pulled the curtain closed around his bunk but before he even had time to wonder what you were doing, he observed as you reached for the hem of Wrecker’s shirt. You pulled it off in one smooth motion, then folded it neatly and set it down on the floor next to his bunk.

Tech’s eyes widened behind his goggles as he took you in sitting before him, wearing only your GAR issued shorts and bra. His face had flushed considerably as his eyes wandered over your body. Watching him take in the sight of you seated in front of him made a blush spread across your own face. Dropping your gaze from Tech, you instinctively crossed your arms over your middle and shifted a bit nervously on his mattress.

Taking you in for another lingering moment, Tech finally opened his mouth to speak. “You are…stunning.” He said breathily while his eyes memorized every detail of your figure. Your blush deepened under his gaze. You smiled shyly back at him while tucking some of your hair behind your ear in an effort to keep from fidgeting nervously.

After passing his gaze over you once more, Tech leaned over the side of his bunk, reaching for the storage drawer just beneath it. He pulled from it one of his own GAR issued t-shirts, and pushed himself back up into the bunk. Once seated comfortably again, Tech offered you the shirt, “Here. I’d much prefer it if you wore my shirt instead of Wrecker’s. You may have it if you so desire it.”

“Thanks, Tech.” You murmured sweetly in surprise as you took his shirt from him. You ran your thumb over the stitching of his name and CT number embroidered at the bottom hem. Glancing back up into his deep brown eyes, you reached across the short distance separating Tech and yourself, gently bringing your hand to rest against his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you jealous. My other sleep clothes need to be cleaned and Wrecker’s shirt was the only top I had.” Your tone had shifted, taking on the sincerity that reflected in your eyes. You hoped that your reassurance would ease his troubled mind.

Tech’s eyes flitted between yours and then down to your lips and back up again. “I am aware that you did not mean to cause me any ill feelings, dearest. It had just occurred to me that I would much prefer to see you wearing one of my shirts instead of my brother’s.” Tech’s voice was quiet as he admitted his feelings. Your eyes widened in surprise at his words and you felt your face flush yet again. He was terribly skilled at making you blush, even during the most inopportune moments.

Slowly, you moved in closer to him, setting his shirt aside then bringing your hand to rest on the other side of his face. Your fingers pressed firmly into the sides of his face as you gently pulled him towards you. Tech gasped slightly at your touch which made you smile before pressing your lips gently to his. He kissed you back with fervor while his hands came up to firmly grasp at your shoulders.

You felt Tech begin to shift in front of you without breaking the contact of his lips on yours. Gently, he eased you into his lap while his hands almost possessively found hold on your waist. Your body was now fully flushed against his with your legs wrapped around his waist and crossed behind him. Tech slowly, but deliberately began trailing feather-light kisses down your neck and across your shoulder. His touch pulled a sound from you Tech wanted to hear repeated over and over again for the rest of his life. The heat that was building within him was growing hotter the more he touched you and the more you whispered his name in pure bliss.

“Tech, Tech, my love…” You half whispered, half moaned against his ear. This sent a shutter through him as his hands began roving over the bare skin of your waist and back. You squeezed your legs around him in a desperate attempt to be even closer to him.

Feeling you press further into him sent Tech into overdrive. With one smooth motion he flipped you so that you were positioned underneath him with your legs still wrapped around his waist. You gasped at the sudden change in position while the warmth in your chest began to spread throughout your body.

Gazing up at him, wide eyed and with lips slightly parted, you uttered his name again, “Tech…” your voice dripped with desire as your eyes flickered back and forth between his own then down to his lips.

He stared back at you, both his hands on other side of your head with his weight not completely resting against you. Tech searched your face for any sign of discomfort before leaning down to kiss you once more.

“Please alert me if you become at all uncomfortable.” Tech insisted before lowering himself onto you, not wanting to push any boundaries you might have.

“I’m more than comfortable with this.” You smiled and gestured with a glance down at your two bodies, his hovering tantalizingly close just above your own. Your consent came much faster than he was expecting but he smiled down at you in a way that conveyed all the love and admiration he held within his heart. Before he could lean down to resume expressing his affection, you whispered something to him that he thought he must have heard incorrectly with how quietly you had spoken.

“I love you, Tech. I’m yours.” You whispered while taking in his expression. Neither of you had said those three little words yet, but now seemed like the perfect time to tell him. If you were being honest, you had loved him from the moment you first spent time alone with him in the cockpit one night during his watch shift, but it had taken a while for the two of you to admit your feelings for each other.

Tech’s eyes were wide and his breath hitched in his throat as his heart hammered against his chest. He opened his mouth to respond but the words wouldn’t form, so he just gazed down at you through his goggles with his lips slightly parted.

You chuckled softly while slowly running your fingers through his soft curls at the nape of his neck. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it back if you’re not ready to.”

But his reply tumbles from his lips before you’ve barely finished your sentence.

“And I love you, however, based on the simple fact that I have been enamored by you since the moment you joined this squad, it is I who belongs to you.” He breathes out his reply.

Tech’s words bring tears to the corners of your eyes and you whisper his name yet again in an almost choked breath. It’s enough to push him forward, resting his weight against you and pushing his lips to yours in near desperation, like he needs your lips on his like he needs air in his lungs to breathe. Tech continues his desperate quest to taste as much of you as he possibly can, kissing from your lips down to the soft spot under your ear, then further down to your pulse point.

His kisses pull a gasp from you and then he hears you repeating his name over and over in the most blissful tone he’s ever heard. “Dearest, you will drive me mad with the way in which you are uttering my name.” Tech whispers into your neck, his mouth never leaving your skin.

“M-mad in a good way?” You breathily stutter out, further burying your fingers in his hair.

“Well, yes, of course in a good way.” Tech chuckles darkly against you while his hand moves to tangle in your hair. You sigh his name again, just to see and feel his reaction. Tech groans quietly into the spot between your neck and shoulder then places another needy kiss there.

“How touching, but could the two of you not do that while some of us are trying to sleep.” Came Crosshair’s voice from his bunk above Tech’s, annoyance dripping from his tone.

Your eyes grew wide at the sound of Crosshair’s voice as Tech pulled back slightly, rolling his eyes at his brother. Your hands retreated from the back of Tech’s head to cover your face as it turned as red as a meiloorun.

“Yeah, and for that matter, could you guys wait until the rest of us aren’t still aboard the ship before getting, uh…intimate?” Echo chimed in from the adjacent bunk.

“Oh kriff.” You cursed through your fingers as you locked eyes with Tech for a brief moment.

“Technically, we are not engaging in any intimate activity at this moment other than kissing.” Tech pointed out shortly to both of his brothers before planting another kiss to your forehead.

“Tech!” You squealed, bringing both your hands to cover his mouth. His eyes flashed with a mischievous and confident glint from behind his goggles.

Your hands slid down to rest on his chest as you giggled awkwardly. After a beat of silence, you mustered up the strength to speak directly to Echo and Crosshair.

“He’s right, guys. We were just kissing.” You say, trying to keep your voice steady and even, though your heart was still pounding from embarrassment.

“Doesn’t matter.” Crosshair shot back lazily. “If you’re gonna kiss in here, then at least have the decency to warn us first. Or find a different part of the ship that isn’t where we all sleep.”

Tech propped himself up onto one arm before pushing himself back into a seated position on his mattress. You let out the smallest of whines when the weight of his body pressed against yours was suddenly gone. After adjusting his goggles, he offered you his hand and pulled you up to sit next to him, both of your backs against the wall of the bunk.

“We did not plan on osculating. It happened organically.” Tech stated matter of factly as he adjusted his goggles again.

“Real romantic, Tech.” Echo deadpanned.

Echo’s comment made you bury your face in Tech’s shoulder. Huffing out a breath, you decided to silence Crosshair and Echo hopefully once and for all tonight. You really couldn’t handle much more of this teasing.

“Regardless, Tech is still right, we didn’t plan on making out. But get over it for kriff’s sake, I’m sure both of you have been caught more than once getting cozy in here with some fling or another so, stow it.”

The room would have been deafeningly silent if not for the hum of the Marauder. You worried for a moment if you’d spoken too harshly to Echo and Crosshair, but the feeling quickly drained from your mind as Tech interlaced the fingers of his left hand with those of your right.

“So, she does bite.” Crosshair’s slightly muffled chuckle broke the silence. “Watch out, Tech.”

You let out an exasperated sigh while pinching the bridge of your nose with your left hand. Before you could open your mouth to snark back at the sniper, Tech leaned in close to your ear, his breath fanning against your neck, stopping you from saying anything further.

“Do you indeed bite, mesh’la?” Tech whispered so that his brothers couldn’t hear. “What an intriguing thought. I do intend to find out at a more appropriate time and place if you do.”

Your eyes grew wide at the sudden boldness from Tech. But without skipping a beat, you turned your head to face him, leaning in to kiss him deeply before taking his bottom lip between your teeth and giving it a slight nibble. You gently pulled away and gazed at him through half lidded eyes, a suggestive look crossing your face as you took in his pleasantly surprised expression.

“Only if you want me to.” You whispered with an enticing lilt to your voice.

“Oh, I most certainly do.” Tech murmured as he leaned in to capture the soft spot under your ear in a gentle kiss.

•••

This is INCREDIBLE.

what genre would their album be tho? This pic, among with some other stuff is up on my Patreon in high res if you're interested ✨

Few Fates Worse Than Death

Pairing: Wrecker x fem!Reader / Wrecker x Jedi!Reader

Words: 13,780

Tags/Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, platonic Rex x Reader, kissing, found family stuff so that makes it better right?

Summary: You refused to believe that Wrecker would ever hurt you, but on Bracca, his nightmare finally comes true.

A/N: I've written angst to some degree for every member of the squad except for Wrecker, so I decided to change that. This is the first and probably only time I pull quotes/scenes directly from the show for a one-shot.

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The moment Rex told you about the inhibitor chips, everything fell into place. A cold, icy dread filled you, even as the others insisted that the chips held no power over them. Everything that had happened since Kaller, since Crosshair and Master Billaba's men tried to kill you... you saw it all through a new lens, and the galaxy spun dizzyingly before you.

Like the others, you’d barely paid attention to Omega’s explanation of the chip. The idea that the Kaminoans put some sort of mind-altering device inside every clone was beyond the pale, so absurd that, even if it was true, you never thought to give it much attention. And Tech was so confident that his own research proved the chips had no such abilities. It was easier to trust Tech, who had always been honest and open with you, than to question your own instincts.

But Rex was different.

The others protested, but Rex had seen something, experienced it himself, and he wasn't willing to risk any of his brothers falling prey to it again. You can hear his fear in his voice, feel it radiating from him. His insistence that the chips be removed, one way or another, was unshakeable.

Rex looks over at you, as if expecting you to back him, but you can only look away.

You feel like you can't breathe, can't think. You take a step back and settle down on one of the barstools, your hand gripping the edge so tightly your knuckles are white. Your stomach churns with dread. What do you do? What can you do?

You’d felt it, the moment Jedi across the galaxy were cut down, like a thousand tiny shards of glass stabbing into your mind. The pain had been nearly blinding, and it had taken every bit of concentration you had to keep from screaming. But you hadn’t seen the images. Hadn’t witnessed the slaughter. That had been a mercy. You hadn't been there, hadn't seen them fall, but you still feel the echoes of their deaths in the Force, a dull, aching pain that never goes away.

The thought of what Rex had seen, what the other clones had experienced, sickens you. Being forced to witness the death of someone you care about is awful enough, but to see your own hand, your own blaster, murder the very people you are sworn to protect? You shudder, the horror of it too overwhelming to contemplate.

The others are talking now, and the argument is escalating. You watch them in a daze, barely able to focus. Your thoughts are running away with you, and you have to fight back against the urge to panic.

The clones were made to be obedient, but not this obedient. There was no way the Kaminoans, or the Jedi, or anyone would have created them with the ability to commit mass genocide at the push of a button. It couldn’t be real. It couldn't.

Could it?

"The chips make you a threat to everyone around you," Rex says, and it's like being doused in cold water. You stare up at him, wide-eyed, unable to speak.

Rex's jaw tightens. "You're all ticking time bombs." 

And you realize then that he's right. Even if the inhibitor chips really do hold no influence over the clones, you can't ignore the potential threat they pose. Not after what happened on Kaller, the horror of it still fresh in your mind. You hadn’t been there after, but you’d heard what happened. If Crosshair had really wanted to kill those refugees, if his chip had made him turn on his brothers... how could the others be so sure their own wouldn’t do the same?

They're all still arguing with Rex, telling him he's wrong, but they don't understand. None of them understand.

Rex turns to you, and when he sees your face, he falters. He knows. He has to know what's running through your head, because he takes a step forward, and you hold up your hand.

"Don't—"

"She's not safe with you," Rex says, gesturing to you. His face is stony, his expression hard. "Any of you. How can you protect her from yourselves?"

Wrecker's eyes dart between you and Rex, and when his gaze settles on you, his brows knit together in a worried frown. He looks distraught, and you wish there was something you could say, something you could do to ease his fears, but you can't get your tongue to work. 

"What are you talking about?" he demands. "We'd never hurt her."

"No, you don't understand. It's not—" Rex pauses, and his expression goes from pained to resigned. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, his shoulders drooping. "What's in your head is more dangerous than you can imagine. I've seen what happens when the chip activates, and I don't want to bury any more of our brothers."

Rex meets each of the Batch's gazes in turn, then his eyes settle on you, and you know that you won't like whatever he has to say next.

"You can't keep her. She's not safe with any of you," he says quietly.

He's not saying anything you haven't thought before, but the way he phrases it sends a sharp stab of hurt through you, and the ache is only exacerbated when he continues.

"I can protect her."

"We can protect her!" Wrecker snaps, taking a step toward Rex. He glares down at the captain, looming over him, and for a moment, you're reminded of just how much larger Wrecker is than him. But Rex doesn't back down, doesn't flinch. Wrecker glances back toward you and Tech, a desperate look in his eye, and his voice goes soft. "Right?"

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. Tech doesn't speak either. He just stares at Rex, a deep furrow in his brow.

"She'll be safer with us," Hunter argues. His voice is firm, but you can tell from the way he avoids meeting Rex's gaze that he's not nearly as certain as he seems.

"It's not the same," Rex says, and he's clearly struggling to hold onto his patience. "Trust me. It is not something you can control. I couldn't. It's a risk you do not want to take."

You've heard enough. Your throat is tight and your stomach is roiling, but you can't let them continue like this. You swallow back the bile and rise unsteadily to your feet.

"Enough," you say, your voice thin.

The others turn to you, and when Wrecker looks down at you, his expression is heartbreaking. You take a deep, steadying breath, then glance up at him.

"It's okay," you whisper, and force a small, reassuring smile. "Everything will be okay."

Your words don't have the desired effect. Wrecker's brow furrows and he takes a half-step toward you, reaching out his hand. He hesitates, and you close the distance between you, reaching up to take his hand in yours. His hand engulfs yours, and his fingers close around your hand gently, like he's afraid he might hurt you. His grip is warm and reassuring, and for a moment, everything is okay.

But it doesn't last.

“General, please." Rex's voice is soft, imploring, and when you meet his gaze, there's a pleading look in his eyes. "You know I'm right.”

“I’m not a general anymore, Rex," you say, shaking your head. "And I’m not a Jedi."

He opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off.

"You can't ask this of me," you say, and a shiver runs through you. You wrap your free arm around yourself, wishing desperately for the security and comfort of the cloak you left behind. "Please. Don't."

Rex closes his eyes, and for a moment, the two of you are silent.

"Alright."

The others look relieved. Wrecker's face scrunches up and you think he's going to cry, but he's also smiling, and he wraps his arms around you and picks you up off the floor. He buries his face against your shoulder, and you wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing as tightly as you can.

"We'll figure this out," you say, and pray the others don't notice the way your voice wavers. "It'll be okay."

Wrecker nods, but his voice is thick when he replies. "I don't want you to go."

"I'm not going anywhere," you promise. "I'm not leaving."

But Rex's words are stuck in your head, echoing relentlessly. It's a risk you do not want to take.

Wrecker sets you down, and when he steps back, there's a wet sheen in his eyes. He rubs at his face and laughs nervously. You reach out and take his hand, squeezing it lightly, and offer him a smile. It feels forced and unnatural, and Wrecker must notice, because his expression falls, and he looks almost guilty. He drops his gaze and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

You look past him to the others. Tech is standing by the door, his arms folded tightly across his chest. You can see his hands are clenched, the muscles in his arms tense. His eyes are fixed on the floor, and when he senses your attention, he lifts his gaze and meets your eyes. His brow is furrowed, and you know he wants to say something. You can see the words forming in his mind, but whatever he's thinking, he keeps it to himself. He holds your gaze for a moment longer, then looks away.

Hunter and Echo are standing together, watching you. When you meet Hunter's eye, he gives you a curt nod.

"It'll be alright," he says, and his tone is oddly final. He turns back to Rex. "How do you suggest we get them out?"

"Good question," Rex replies, and his gaze falls on you again. He frowns and tilts his head. "You're sure you don't want to leave?"

"Yes," you reply, but your voice sounds thin, even to you. You clear your throat and repeat the word more firmly, and the others all look at you. "Yes. I'm sure."

Rex hesitates. For a long moment, he just looks at you, as if searching for some sign that you've changed your mind. Then he sighs and nods, his expression grim.

"Alright. I'll be in touch."

He leaves without another word. The moment he disappears up the stairwell, Wrecker tugs you against him, wrapping his arms around you and crushing you against his chest. You squeeze him back, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against his chest. Your heart is pounding so hard that you can feel it in your temples, and your head is throbbing.

"It'll be okay," you repeat, trying to sound reassuring, but there's an uncertainty in your heart that you can't ignore. You're not sure who you're trying to convince, yourself or Wrecker, but you both need to hear the words.

You're not sure what comes next. You've only just got back to the Batch, and now this...

It feels like you're standing on a precipice.

You're not sure which way the wind will blow.

Wrecker's headaches are getting worse, and they come more frequently.

He can barely sleep, and his temper is short. More than once, he's lashed out at the others, and you can tell that it's eating him up inside. He's ashamed and frustrated, and all the more upset because there's nothing he can do. When he does manage to rest, it's fitful. You're not sure how long it's been since he slept properly, and it worries you.

Your own rest is fitful as well.

Ever since Rex's revelation, there's been a tension between you all that was never there before. It's like you're all just waiting for something bad to happen, and every day that passes is just more time spent in anticipation of a nightmare you can't stop.

It's hard to shake, and sometimes, it's all you can do not to cry. You miss the Jedi, the people you thought of as family, and the knowledge that the clones were responsible for their deaths is like a knife through your heart. It was easier when you didn't know the truth, when the deaths felt more distant. Now, every time you think about the Jedi, you can't help wondering how they felt in those final moments. If they knew.

The pain in the Force is still there, but it's different. A constant ache, a reminder of all the lives lost. Sometimes, it's too much, and the grief overwhelms you.

The worst part is knowing that the others are keeping their distance.

It's subtle. Just little things, but you can tell.

You and Omega are still spending most of your downtime together, but when you go to spend time with the others, it doesn't last as long. You've barely seen Echo and Tech, and Hunter is avoiding you like the plague.

And Wrecker.

Wrecker is pulling away, and he's doing it so slowly that you didn't notice at first. At least, not until you woke up one morning to find the bed empty. He hasn't slept beside you since that night with Rex, and he's not spending much time with you outside of missions. And the longer this goes on, the harder it is to break the ice.

When you do manage to talk to him, you try to offer support. You want to reassure him, to comfort him, but the pain in his head makes him recalcitrant. It's like he doesn't want you to know the truth of what's bothering him, and the more you press, the more agitated he gets.

One night, you try to help him with his headache. He's sitting on his bunk, leaning over and clutching his head, and you can't stand by and watch him suffer any longer.

You sit beside him and rest a hand on his back. His skin is slick with sweat, and his muscles are tense, his entire body shaking with pain.

"Can I help?" you ask, keeping your voice soft. "Will it help if I massage your temples?"

Wrecker's answer is a muffled groan, and it's impossible to tell whether it's a yes or a no, so you tentatively begin to rub your fingers in slow circles. You start at his temples and work outward, hoping that some of the tension will release.

You keep rubbing for a while, and it seems to help, a little. When his head finally slumps forward, you pause.

"How's that?" you ask softly.

"S'good," Wrecker grumbles, but the tone of his voice makes it clear that he's anything but pleased. "Thanks."

He doesn't move, doesn't relax. You're not sure what else to do, but you don't want to leave him like this. It feels wrong.

"Is there anything else I can do?" you ask, and you try to keep your voice gentle.

Wrecker shakes his head. "I'm fine."

“You’re not.” Your words are quiet, but they feel like a shout. Wrecker freezes, and for a long moment, neither of you speaks. You sigh and move so that you're kneeling in front of him, and you place your hands on his knees. "Please, talk to me."

He doesn't answer. He doesn't move, his head bowed.

"Why are you shutting me out?" you whisper.

"I'm not," Wrecker mumbles. His hands come up to cover his head, and you have the feeling that the action has less to do with his headache and more to do with his reluctance to meet your gaze. "I'm just..."

His words trail off, and a tense silence falls between you.

"What's wrong?" you ask, and now your voice is wavering. The tears you've been fighting for days are threatening to spill over, but you hold them back. You take a deep, shuddering breath and lean in closer. "Wrecker. Please."

"It's nothing," Wrecker mutters, and his shoulders hunch. He doesn't look at you, and his hands clench into fists.

"It's not nothing."

You hesitate, then gently rest your hand on his cheek. He flinches, and for a moment, your stomach tightens with fear. But then his eyes flick up to yours, and when he sees your face, a pained look crosses his features. His eyes soften, and a single tear rolls down his cheek.

"You're not sleeping. I can tell."

"Neither are you," he grunts, and he tries to pull away.

"I'm worried about you," you whisper. You reach out and touch his hand. "Talk to me."

Wrecker looks away. He wipes the tear from his cheek and clears his throat. "Don't be."

"I can't help it." You reach out and touch his hand, and when he flinches, it's like being stabbed through the heart. You draw back and look away. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to pressure you."

"I know."

"Just... if you need anything. I'm here."

"I know," he whispers. He looks down at his hands, and the tears are back. He wipes them away, but not before they start rolling down his cheeks. He shakes his head. "I'm a fuckin' mess."

"It's okay."

“It’s not okay,” he snaps. He glares up at you, his brow furrowing, and the pain in his expression is so raw that it takes your breath away. His voice is thick with tears. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't," you insist, but your stomach twists and knots at his words. "I trust you."

"You shouldn't."

"Wrecker—"

"What if Rex was right?" Wrecker asks, and his words cut straight through your heart. "What if he's right? What if—what if something happens, and I..."

His voice trails off, and when he looks at you, his eyes are wet. He blinks and swallows, and when he continues, his voice is strained.

"What if the chip took control, and I hurt you? Or Omega? I couldn't..." He chokes and shakes his head, looking away. "I couldn't live with myself."

"Nothing is going to happen," you insist, and when Wrecker doesn't answer, your heart sinks. You climb up onto the bed and wrap your arms around him, pulling him against you. He rests his forehead against yours, and the tears are streaming freely down his cheeks. You kiss his cheek and reach up to brush away the tears, but there are too many. You wipe away a few, but the others just keep coming, and Wrecker lets out a soft, miserable noise. "Oh, Wrecker."

He doesn't answer. He turns his face into the crook of your neck and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, and buries his face against you.

"I can't lose you," he whispers, his voice thick. "Not again."

"You won't," you murmur. "I promise. You won't lose me."

You can't be sure that's true, but you don't know what else to say. Wrecker holds you tightly, and you wrap your arms around him and kiss the side of his neck, and then his cheek, his shoulder, his chest, his lips. You want him to know how much you care, how much you need him. How much you love him.

"I'm not going anywhere," you say as your own tears spill over. You squeeze him tight and bury your face against his neck. "You won't lose me."

"If anything happened to you..." Wrecker shudders, and his grip on you tightens. "I couldn't handle it. If something happened, I couldn't—"

He stops and takes a deep, shuddering breath. He presses his face into your hair and squeezes you tightly. His voice is small, almost lost in the darkness.

"I love you."

You freeze. For a moment, your heart stutters, and you feel like your lungs have stopped working. He's never said it before. Not in words, anyway. You’ve known it for a long time, but to hear him say it, even in a moment like this, is something else entirely. It makes you ache.

"I love you," Wrecker repeats, and then his face scrunches up and his words spill out in a rush. "I've loved you for so long. I love everything about you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and the thought of hurting you, or losing you, is too much. I can't. I won't."

"Wrecker." You pull back and take his face in your hands. "Look at me."

"I should have told you earlier," Wrecker mumbles. His words are so slurred together that they're almost unintelligible. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your eyes are filled with tears, and it's hard to see, but you know you need to get close to him, to offer him the same reassurance he's given you countless times. So you slide onto his lap, wrapping your arms around him, and rest your forehead against his.

"I'm not. There was never a good time, not really. But now, right now, I'm glad I heard it." You cup his cheek and brush the tears away. "And I'm glad I can tell you now. Because I love you too. So much. And I need you to know that. I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."

You press your lips to his, and he responds instantly, returning the kiss with a hunger that catches you off guard. It's intense and overwhelming, and he pulls you tighter against him, like he's trying to merge the two of you together. His hand slips beneath your shirt, his fingers splayed across your lower back, and he groans into the kiss. It's the most intense and passionate kiss the two of you have ever shared, and it leaves you gasping for breath.

"I love you," you repeat, and when he looks at you, his eyes are bright. He leans in and kisses your forehead, then rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he whispers. "No matter what. I promise."

"I know." You press a soft kiss to his jaw, then rest your head on his shoulder. "And I won't let anything happen to you. We're in this together. I'm here, no matter what."

Wrecker doesn't reply. He just nods and wraps his arms around you, leaning back until the two of you are lying down. He pulls you on top of him, and when you shift, the movement is enough to send a shiver through him.

He presses his face into your hair and holds you close, and for a long time, the two of you stay like that, holding each other. It's a little awkward, with your legs tangled together and the bunk too small for the two of you, but it feels right. It feels good. Safe.

 "I love you,” you whisper again, and Wrecker's arms tighten around you. He kisses the side of your neck, and his breath tickles the hairs on the back of your neck. You snuggle deeper into his embrace and close your eyes.

"Love you," Wrecker mumbles. 

The way he says it is so soft, so full of adoration, that your heart breaks a little. You love him. You love him so much. You never thought you'd get to say the words, never thought it would be possible, but now that it's out there, the words come so easily, like they've always been waiting to come out. And the relief of hearing him say them back is almost dizzying.

You stay there, wrapped up in each other's arms, and you listen to the sound of Wrecker's breathing. He falls asleep eventually, and his grip loosens, but he doesn't let go. When you're sure he's sleeping, you shift, resting your head against his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart.

You close your eyes, and for the first time in a while, you feel safe.

For the first time in a while, sleep comes easily.

As soon as you arrived on Bracca, things took a turn for the worse. You'd all managed to dodge the Scrapper's Guild, but traversing the wreckage of the fallen Venator was a trial in and of itself. There was debris everywhere, and you could hardly breathe in the thick, oppressive air. Every step felt like it could be your last, and you and Hunter couldn't stop sensing something in the murky water below. Something lurking, waiting. And when Wrecker fell in...

He'd nearly drowned. He'd nearly been devoured by that dianoga. You'd thought you'd lost him.

You can't think about it.

He's safe now, and that's all that matters. He's safe, and you can finally breathe again. But the tension is still there, coiled tight in your stomach, and it's not just because of Wrecker. There's something else, something more. 

It's been there since Kaller, a feeling that something terrible is looming. You've felt it before, and it's never been wrong. The Force is trying to warn you, but the warnings are growing more frequent, more intense. Something big is coming, and there's no telling when it will happen, but you're sure it's not good.

You're standing in the back of the medbay, trying to keep out of the way as Tech works on Wrecker. He's running scans and taking readings, and the whole time, he's muttering under his breath. You cast a glance at Rex, who's standing next to you, but his attention is focused on the scene in front of him, his brow furrowed and his hands clasped behind his back.

"You've been quiet," he murmurs, his gaze shifting towards you.

"Yeah."

"Wanna talk about it?"

You hesitate. There's no point in keeping it to yourself, and maybe it'll help to get it off your chest.

"The Force is warning me," you say quietly, and Rex nods. "I don't know what it is, but... I can't shake the feeling that something bad is coming."

Rex frowns. "Do the others know?"

You nod, and he turns his gaze back toward the medbay. "Have they said anything?"

"Hunter knows," you say, and the words catch in your throat. "But... he's been keeping his distance."

Rex glances at you. His expression is unreadable.

"They all are," you whisper, and the admission is almost painful. You look away, unable to meet his gaze, and you have to fight the urge to cry. "I don't know what to do."

"You're worried," Rex says. It's not a question.

"Yeah," you reply, and a chill runs through you. You wrap your arms around yourself, hugging tightly, and take a shaky breath. “But it’s not just that. The Force is warning me. They... they could be in danger. All of them."

You swallow, and when you speak again, your voice is quiet.

"All of us."

He studies you for a moment, then looks back at Tech. He's still working, but now he's talking, and whatever he's saying is enough to pull a groan out of Wrecker. Rex watches them for a moment, his expression thoughtful, then looks back at you. His expression is grim.

 "How bad is it?"

You don't answer at first. The truth is, you're not sure. But Rex waits patiently, his gaze never leaving your face. Finally, you take a deep breath and force the words out.

"Bad," you say at last. You can't hide the fear in your voice. "Whatever it is, I think it's really bad."

Rex doesn't reply, but you can see the worry on his face. He knows what you're capable of, and he's seen firsthand the things you can do when the Force moves through you. If you're afraid, he's got every reason to be scared, too.

The two of you are silent, and when you can't bear it any longer, you break the silence.

"Do you believe in fate?" you ask.

Rex raises an eyebrow, surprised. He looks back at Tech, then shakes his head.

"Not really. I mean, maybe. Sometimes," he admits, and there's a hint of a smile on his lips. "But I try not to think about it too much."

You nod. "I can't help it."

"Why's that?"

"Because... sometimes, I think it's meant to be. Like, everything that happens is part of some bigger plan, and I can't change it,” you mutter. Your eyes drop to the floor. "All is as the Force wills it, and all that. But I don't know. It's... scary. It makes me feel helpless."

Rex doesn't reply at first. His brow furrows, and for a moment, he seems troubled. He looks over at the others, then back at you, and his expression softens.

"I know what you mean," he says, his voice is gentle. "But whatever it is, we'll handle it."

His hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, and you look at him. His face is serious, and the look in his eyes is reassuring. But he can't give you the answers you want, and the feeling of uncertainty lingers. You turn, pulling away from him, and your gaze falls on the others.

"Yeah," you say, but the word comes out sounding weak. Your eyes meet Wrecker's, and the concern in his expression is enough to make your heart clench. You don't want to worry him. You can't. Not after everything he's been through. You force a smile and say the words you don’t mean, knowing he can hear you. "We'll be fine."

It sounds hollow even to your own ears, but Wrecker relaxes, and the look of worry fades from his eyes. You look away, unable to bear the guilt gnawing at your stomach, and the smile fades from your face.

You know that if something happens, if something goes wrong, he'll blame himself. You don't want that. You don't want him to feel guilty, but the truth is, you're scared. For the first time, you're genuinely terrified. And not just for the Batch.

You're terrified for yourself. For the first time, you have something to lose. Your life, your happiness. You've never had that before.

And you don't want to lose it.

But the truth is, there's nothing you can do. You have to face the future, whatever it may bring, and pray that things turn out okay.

Rex's gaze flicks between you and Wrecker. He can see the concern in Wrecker's face, the worry in yours. His eyes are filled with sadness. Regret.

"I'm sorry," he says. "About before. I didn't..."

His voice trails off, and his brow furrows.

"I should have been more tactful," he says finally, and the corners of his mouth twitch up. He looks away, and when he speaks again, his voice is soft. "It's not an easy thing to talk about."

"No," you agree. "It's not."

He doesn't say anything, and neither do you. You both know there's nothing to say. There's no point in arguing or talking about what might happen. No point in making promises or predictions. There's only the present, the future unknown. So instead, Rex just squeezes your shoulder once more before letting his hand fall away. 

He moves to stand near Hunter, and the two of them start talking quietly. You watch them for a moment, but they're too far away for you to hear, so you turn your attention back to Wrecker and Tech.

Wrecker is groaning and wincing, his face contorted with pain as he hunches over. He looks miserable, and you want to comfort him, but Tech is moving him from one piece of equipment to another, and there's no room for you. 

Omega is hovering nearby, a look of concern on her face. She's wringing her hands, and her gaze darts between the two of you. She wants to help, and she's doing her best, but there's only so much any of you can do. You walk over to place your hand on her shoulder and try to give her a reassuring smile, but it feels forced.

You hate seeing him like this. You hate feeling helpless.

"Relax," Tech says as he prepares the surgical laser. "This won't hurt a bit."

Wrecker glares at him, and the look on his face would be amusing if not for the circumstances. Tech gives him an apologetic smile, then looks back at you.

"Could I trouble you to assist?"

"Of course," you say, and step closer.

"Hold his shoulders, please."

You do as he asks, moving to stand behind the bed, and hold Wrecker's shoulders firmly. He looks up at you, and the misery on his face is clear. It's hard to see him like this, but he needs you. So you do your best. You smile down at him, and when he smiles back, the tightness in your chest loosens, and the fear recedes, a little. You lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead.

"It'll be alright," you whisper. "You're going to be okay."

Wrecker takes a shuddering breath and nods, and you feel his body tense as Tech steps closer. You let out a slow, steady breath, and close your eyes, trying to impart as much calm through the Force as possible. Wrecker's shoulders relax, and his breathing slows.

Tech is talking again, and the sound of the laser whines, then there's a flash of light. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and the air around you fills with static.

"You're in direct violation of Order 66," Wrecker growls, and your eyes snap open.

He lurches forward, his face contorting, and the force of him breaking from your hold sends you stumbling backwards. Wrecker grabs Tech by the throat, the laser slipping from his fingers and clattering to the floor. Tech tries to grab Wrecker's hand, but Wrecker is stronger, and he shoves him backwards, slamming him into the wall hard enough that it dents.

He's staring at his brother with cold, empty eyes, and you're frozen, unable to move or speak. There's no sign of the man you love, no trace of the gentle, caring, passionate man who's loved and cherished you since the moment you met. His face is devoid of emotion, his eyes blank and dead. There's no recognition, no hint of compassion or mercy. 

Nothing but a cold, empty void.

Your blood runs cold, and your stomach lurches. This isn't him. This can't be him.

"No! Stop!" you shout. Your voice cracks, and when Wrecker's gaze snaps towards you, a cold sweat breaks out across your skin. His eyes are dark, and there's something else in his expression. Something that scares the hell out of you.

Wrecker's lips curl into a snarl, and the anger is so fierce and sudden that it catches you off guard. You take a step forward, but Rex catches your arm, stopping you. You don't look at him. You can't look away from Wrecker, from his eyes. 

His grip on Tech's throat tightens. Tech's hands scrabble at his hand, and his feet kick uselessly against the wall.

"Please! Wrecker, stop! You're killing him!"

For a moment, you think you've gotten through to him. For a moment, you see something in his eyes, a flash of recognition, a spark of life. But it's gone as soon as it appears, and he throws Tech across the room with a snarl. 

You jerk your arm free from Rex's grip and rush forward, but Echo catches you around the waist and pulls you back behind cover. You struggle against him, desperate to help, but he's too strong.

"Wrecker!" Hunter cries. "Stop! Fight it!"

Wrecker is beyond hearing. He grabs his blaster and fires wildly, narrowly missing Rex as he dives behind the crates next to you, Hunter and Omega close behind. Your heart is pounding, and you're shaking so hard your teeth are chattering. Omega is trembling too, and she's staring blankly ahead with wide, frightened eyes. She looks like she's on the verge of tears.

"He'll destroy the equipment if we don't get him out of here," Echo says, his voice strained.

"You're all traitors!" Wrecker bellows.

He keeps firing, and it's a miracle no one's been hit yet. Rex pops his head up, ducking back down just in time to avoid being shot.

"You need to run," he says to you. "He's not going to stop until he kills you, and I don't think any of us are going to survive if that happens."

You shake your head. "I can't leave him."

"There's no other way. We'll distract him, but you need to go. Now!"

"No!" You shove Echo away and lunge towards Wrecker. Hunter is in front of you in an instant, grabbing your shoulders and shoving you back.

"Stop," he says. "Listen to Rex. Please. He'll kill you. Do you understand? You have to go."

"He needs me." You can feel the tears coming, and when Hunter sees them, his face softens.

"He does," he agrees. "But right now, he's a danger to you. He's a danger to everyone. You have to go. I'll keep him safe. I promise. But right now, he's going to kill you."

He holds your gaze, and the pain in his eyes is so raw and intense that you feel like your heart is breaking.

"What if you can't stop him?" you demand, your voice cracking. "What if you die? I can't let him do this."

Hunter doesn't answer. He's not even looking at you anymore. His attention is focused on his rampaging brother, and he's getting ready to strike. You can see it in his body language, the tension in his shoulders, the set of his jaw.

"Omega, stay with Tech," he says, ignoring you. "Make sure he's alright. We'll handle Wrecker."

Omega nods, and the two of you exchange a long, sorrowful look.

"It'll be okay," she whispers. "He'll be okay."

"I... I hope so."

You're not sure how much of that you believe.

"Go," Hunter urges. "We'll find you. I promise."

"Hunter—"

"Go."

You swallow hard and nod, and then you're running, narrowly dodging the blaster bolts thudding into the doorframe as you dash out the doors. You hear Wrecker's howl of rage, and then the sound of blaster fire as the others charge him, and the sound makes you sob.

"No," you whisper, and then you're running.

You're not sure where to go, and the ship is a blur around you as you dart down the halls, tears streaming down your cheeks. You run until you can't run anymore, and then you stumble, your chest heaving and your lungs burning. Your legs are weak, and the muscles in your thighs are aching, but you push on, determined not to give up. 

You have to get away. You have to stay alive. If you're alive, you can help him.

But the further you get from Wrecker, the more you feel like your heart is being ripped out. You want to be with him, to save him, but Hunter was right. You have no chance of defeating him without killing him, and the thought of you dying, of leaving him alone, terrifies you.

So you run.

You don't stop until the sound of his blaster fire has faded, and even then, you don't dare stop moving. You're sobbing uncontrollably now, and it's hard to see. Your vision is blurred, and the tears are pouring down your cheeks. You have no idea where you are, and every corridor and door looks the same. It's impossible to tell which way leads out, or even if there is an exit. All you know is that you're lost, and for the first time in a long time, you’re alone.

You finally come to a stop and lean against the wall, gasping for breath. You feel sick, and the walls are spinning. You squeeze your eyes shut and rest your head against the wall, willing the world to stop.

But it doesn't. And it's not just the room that's spinning. It's everything. Your whole world is spinning out of control, and you’re helpless to stop it. You've lost everything. You've lost your home, your friends, and now you've lost the man you love. He's been taken from you, and there's nothing you can do.

You're powerless.

Hot tears spill down your cheeks. Your chest is tight, and it feels like your heart is shattering. You can't breathe. You can't think. You just stand there, crying and shaking and feeling completely, utterly useless.

After what feels like hours, the tears begin to slow. You take a deep, shuddering breath, and the knot in your stomach loosens, just a little.

There's still a chance, you tell yourself. They'll stop him. They'll get him out of there. Wrecker will be okay. Everything will be okay. It has to be.

And then you sense him.

Wrecker's warm presence in the Force is gone, replaced by something cold and empty. He’s always felt warm, bright and strong, but now there's nothing there. Nothing but a cold, hollow void. A darkness so intense that it makes your skin crawl.

Your head snaps up, and you can feel him, a shadow looming in the corridor behind you. His presence is like a black hole, sucking the life and warmth out of the room, and you can't move. You can't breathe. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

Your instincts are screaming at you to run, but you can't. You won't.

You don't know if it's stupid or brave, but you turn to face him.

You move slowly, terrified of what you'll see, and when your eyes meet his, a shiver runs down your spine.

He's standing there, his breathing labored and his body tensed, and he's staring at you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl. In the dim light of the wrecked ship, his face is barely visible, but his eyes are shining with a cold, cruel light. There's no recognition in them, no hint of the man you love, and for a moment, you can't believe what you're seeing.

But the hatred radiating off him is real, a tangible thing, and it's enough to make you sick. It's worse than any injury or torture. Worse than anything you've ever experienced. It's a raw, visceral hatred, and it's directed right at you.

You stand your ground, your hands shaking, and you clench them into fists.

"Wrecker," you say, and the words sound small and weak. "I'm sorry."

His brow furrows, and his jaw tenses.

"I should have done more," you continue, and the words catch in your throat. You're choking on the lump that's formed there, and you swallow, fighting back the urge to sob. "I should have protected you."

Wrecker doesn't answer. His gaze flickers over your face, taking in your tear-stained cheeks and the fear in your eyes. You can feel his hatred, the cold rage coiled tight in his muscles. He's barely holding himself back, and the tension in his body is palpable.

"Please," you whisper. "You have to fight this. This isn't you."

He doesn't reply. He takes a step towards you, and you tense, ready to defend yourself. You don't want to hurt him. You don't want to hurt him. You can't.

"Wrecker, please. Don't do this." Your voice cracks, and when he doesn't react, the tears start flowing again. "I love you. I need you. Please, don't do this."

Wrecker pauses, and his eyes widen. The hatred in his eyes wavers, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that you've reached him. But then his lip curls, and the hatred comes surging back. It's stronger this time, fueled by a rage so intense that it takes your breath away.

"Traitor," he growls, and then he lunges at you.

He moves so fast that you barely have time to react. You dodge out of the way, barely avoiding his grasp, and his hand closes around empty air. He snarls and whirls, his eyes burning with hatred. You take a step back, and the tears are streaming down your face.

"Stop this!" you cry. "Wrecker, please! I don't want to hurt you!"

He doesn't listen. He moves with a speed and grace that belies his size, and he's on you in an instant. You manage to avoid him again, but only just. He slams into the wall next to you, and the impact makes the metal buckle. The sound is deafening, and it sends a shockwave through the room. The walls creak and groan, and dust and debris rain down from the ceiling.

Wrecker's head snaps towards you, his eyes burning with a cold, cruel fire, and your stomach lurches. His lips curl into a snarl, and then he's coming for you again. 

You turn and run, darting down the corridor, and he's right behind you. You can hear the pounding of his boots on the floor, and the sound of his ragged breathing. He's gaining on you, and you don't know if you can keep ahead of him without hurting him. 

Your eyes are wide and desperate, and your heart is racing. You're terrified, but you force yourself to push that fear aside, to try and remember your training. You can't let it control you. You can't let it consume you. 

If you do, you'll never save him. You'll never get him back. You have to stay focused. You have to stay calm.

But it's so hard.

Wrecker roars, and you feel the air rush past you as he grabs at your arm. You jerk free, and his fingers close around empty air. You twist and slam your shoulder into his side, and he stumbles, hissing with rage. You reach out with the Force and shove him back, giving yourself just enough room to move, and then you're running again.

"Please," you sob. "Please, stop."

He doesn't.

You dodge around a corner, and the floor suddenly disappears beneath your feet. Your eyes go wide, and you cry out as the world drops out from under you. You tumble down the sudden drop, landing hard on your shoulder, and the breath is knocked from your lungs. You gasp, pain lancing through your shoulder, and for a moment, you're too stunned to move.

The sound of boots pounding on the floor above snaps you out of your daze, and you roll onto your back, pushing yourself to your feet. Your head whips around, taking in your surroundings, and it only takes you a moment to realize where you are. You're in the cargo bay, and the doors leading out to the planet are mere meters away.

Your heart leaps. You can get out. You can get help.

But you hesitate, and the feeling of his presence in the Force is enough to make your blood run cold. You dart behind a stack of crates just as Wrecker lands on the floor in front of you. He hits the ground hard, and the impact is enough to make the floor underneath you shake.

Your hand clasps over your mouth to hide your surprised gasp. Your chest is heaving, and your heart is racing. The tears are still falling, and you're trembling so hard that your knees are shaking.

The sudden silence is almost deafening, and the only sound is the distant hum of the ship's engines. You don't dare to breathe. You can't make a sound.

"I know you're here," Wrecker says. His voice is low and menacing. "You can't hide forever."

He steps forward, his boots crunching on broken glass. His footsteps are slow, methodical, like he's stalking his prey. He's close. So close. Too close.

"Come out, traitor," he snarls.

You shrink back against the crates. Your heart is pounding so hard that you're sure he can hear it. Your palms are sweating, and the crate next to you is slick with condensation. You have nowhere to go, and no way out. If you try to run, he'll catch you. And if you try to fight, you'll have to kill him.

"I'll find you," Wrecker growls. His voice is low and menacing, and it sends a chill down your spine. "You can't hide from me."

He moves closer, and the sound of his footsteps seems to grow louder with each passing second. You hold your breath, and your hand drifts toward your lightsaber on your hip on instinct before you clench your fist and drop your arm. You can't. You can't use it. You won't.

You won't hurt him.

You'll die first.

Wrecker moves around the crates, and his shadow falls across the wall. You can see his outline, and the hatred emanating off him is like a physical thing. It's palpable, suffocating, and it's enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You hear a thud, and a crate falls to the floor with a loud crash. You flinch, and your hand goes to your lightsaber again, but you stop yourself. You can't use it. You can't. Not against him. Not like this.

Another crate topples. And another. And another. Wrecker's getting closer. You can hear him breathing, and your heart is pounding so hard that your head is spinning. You can't see him, but you know he's there, lurking just out of sight.

He's so close.

So close.

He stops, and the room is deathly silent. You can't hear his breathing, and he's motionless, as if he's waiting for you to make a sound. The seconds tick by, and the tension in the air is so thick that it's almost impossible to breathe.

You can't take it.

"Please," you whimper, and the word comes out as a sob.

He freezes, and for a moment, everything is still.

And then the air shifts. You sense a sudden movement, and a fraction of a second later, the crate above you explodes. You yelp and dive to the side, rolling out of the way, and the crate is reduced to splinters.

 Your scramble to your feet, your back slamming against the wall, and you look up. Wrecker is standing over you, and his eyes are cold, dark pools. His hulking form trembles with rage, and he rushes towards you, his hand curled into a fist. You duck under the blow, and your hand flashes out, connecting with his chin. He stumbles, but he doesn't stop. 

He lunges at you, and you dodge, his hand catching your tunic and ripping the fabric. The sound of it tearing is deafening, and you feel the heat of his breath on your skin as he growls.

"Stop!" you plead.

He doesn't.

"Traitor," he hisses. He's on you again, and this time, you can't avoid him. 

Wrecker hits you in the stomach, and the breath leaves your lungs in a rush. Pain blooms through your torso, and your knees buckle. He swings again, and you throw up your arms, blocking the blow. The force of it knocks you to the ground, and your head smacks against the hard floor.

His fingers wrap around your throat, and he lifts you off the ground with one hand. Wrecker pulls you up close to his face, and the look in his eyes is terrifying. It's pure, unbridled hatred, and it's directed at you.

"Wrecker," you manage to croak. Your eyes search his desperate to find any sign of the man you love, and he growls, his grip tightening.

"Wrecker, please." Tears stream down your face, and you claw at his hands, struggling to breathe. Your lungs are burning, and the pain in your head is almost unbearable. He's going to kill you. He's going to kill you, and there's nothing you can do to stop him.

You know that your next breath will be your last, and you feel a strange sense of peace wash over you. There are worse fates than dying by his hands. Worse things than losing your life. You're not afraid. You're not angry. All you feel is sorrow, and a deep, aching love for the man in front of you. The man who's been your whole world, your heart, and the only home you've ever known.

If this is how it ends, so be it. At least you got to know him.

"Wrecker," you choke out, your voice barely audible. "I... I love..."

His fingers tighten, and everything goes black.

Your eyes flutter open, and the world swims back into focus. There's a dull ache in your skull, and the air feels strangely thin. Your chest is heaving, and it takes you a moment to realize that you're not breathing.

No, you're hyperventilating.

Wrecker.

His name is on your lips, and you gasp before a terrible, aching pain lances through your skull. You try to move, but your body is heavy.

You're lying on your side. The ground beneath you is hard, and the air is thick and heavy. There's a bitter taste in your mouth, and your throat is burning. You try to take a deep breath, but it's like someone's squeezing the life out of you.

"Hey. Easy."

The voice is familiar. Soothing. But it doesn't register.

Someone rolls you onto your back, and the movement sends a jolt of pain through your body. You gasp, and the air burns. You can't see anything, but you feel something cool and wet being pressed against your face. It hurts, and you try to pull away, but a gentle hand holds you still.

"Shhh. Relax."

The voice is familiar, but your mind is too fuzzy to place it. Your head is throbbing, and your throat feels like it's on fire. You can't focus. You can't think. All you can do is lay there and try to breathe.

"Stay still. I'm trying to clean you up."

You try to open your eyes, but everything is blurry. A pair of dark brown eyes stares down at you, but it's not the mismatched ones you're looking for.

Rex.

He's holding something cold and wet against your face, and the sensation is painful, but soothing. You take a few shallow breaths, the air finally starting to reach your lungs. You cough, and it's like sandpaper being scraped against the back of your throat.

"Don't try to talk," Rex says. "You need rest."

Rest. The word echoes through your head. Your thoughts are jumbled, and you can't seem to focus.

"What... What happened?" you manage to croak. Your voice is hoarse, and your words come out sounding more like a growl than anything else.

"I think it's better if I don't tell you," Rex says. He's frowning, and the look on his face makes your heart clench. "Just focus on breathing."

You take another breath, and this one is a little easier. The pressure in your head is fading, and your vision is starting to clear.

"Wrecker," you rasp. "Is he...?"

"Yeah," Rex says softly. "He's... He's okay."

"Where is he?"

"We got his chip out, and the others," Rex tells you. "Tech is treating his injuries now."

There's a catch in his voice, and you can tell that something is wrong. Something terrible. You feel a sharp stab of panic, and you try to sit up, but the room spins. Rex grabs your shoulders and eases you back down.

"Just stay still," he says. "You need to rest."

"I'm fine," you argue, but your voice is weak, and the effort of talking makes your head spin. Rex shakes his head.

"No, you're not." Rex sighs and presses a damp cloth to your forehead. It's cool and soothing, and the pain begins to ease a little. "Just give it a minute."

"Rex..."

"He's okay. I promise." He smiles at you, but it’s forced, and there's a sadness in his eyes that makes your heart twist. "But he's not doing well. We're all gonna need some time."

Your heart sinks. You know what that means. Rex is telling you that Wrecker needs space. That he's not himself. That he's ashamed and guilty and doesn't want to face you. It hurts. More than the physical pain, more than the headache, the exhaustion, and the fear, it's a deeper, sharper kind of pain. The kind that cuts to the bone, and you can feel tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

"I understand," you say, and you hate the way your voice cracks.

Rex's smile falters, and the sadness in his eyes intensifies.

"Hey, now," he murmurs. "It'll be okay."

"No. It won't." Your voice is thick, and the tears are flowing freely now. You can't stop them. You don't even try. Rex pulls you into his arms, and you bury your face in his shoulder, sobbing.

"He tried to kill me," you choke out. "He... He was going to..."

Rex holds you, and he doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to. The pain is written all over his face, and he knows exactly what you're going through. He was there. He watched Wrecker lose control, and he had to watch him almost kill the woman he loves. He had to watch him almost kill his friend.

"I'm so sorry," Rex whispers. He holds you close, and his hand moves gently up and down your back, soothing you. "I'm so sorry."

You cry until your throat is raw and your lungs are burning, and when the tears finally stop, you're exhausted. Your body is limp, and your head is pounding. You lean against Rex, and his arms tighten around you.

"Come on," he murmurs. "Let's get you up."

He helps you to your feet, and you wince. Every muscle in your body is aching, your throat is sore, and the wound on the back of your head is throbbing. You feel weak, and the ground seems to sway under your feet. Rex holds you steady while the feeling slowly fades.

"I've got you," he says. Then, slowly, he leads you towards the medbay. You lean against him, and with each step, you can feel the guilt and shame and anger radiating off him in waves. It's overwhelming, and it makes your heart ache.

"Rex," you murmur. "Are you alright?"

"No," he admits. "But I will be."

"I'm so sorry," you whisper.

"It's not your fault," he says, but you can hear the bitterness in his voice, and the resentment. He blames himself for what happened. He's taking the weight of the entire situation on his shoulders.

You want to tell him that it's not his fault, either, but you're too tired. So you lean against him, and let him guide you to the medbay.

The door is open, and Tech is inside, tending to a  cut on Hunter’s face. Echo is helping, and Omega is sitting in the corner, her knees drawn up to her chest. She looks exhausted, tears staining her cheeks, but her face brightens when she sees you. 

She scrambles to her feet and rushes towards you, throwing her arms around your waist. The impact sends a shock of pain through your ribs, but you bite your lip and hide your wince. She's clinging to you like a lifeline, and you can feel the tremor in her body as she tries not to cry. You hold her close, stroking her hair, and the ache in your heart deepens.

"Hey," you murmur. "You alright?"

Omega nods against you, her fingers digging into the back of your tunic.

"Are you?" she whispers.

"Yeah," you lie. "I'm okay."

"You're not," she says, and the hurt in her voice is enough to make your throat tighten. "But it's okay. We're here."

She hugs you tighter, and you lean into the embrace, your heart aching. You wish it was as simple as that, but nothing is. Nothing will be. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever. You hold her close, closing your eyes, and her presence in the Force is warm and bright, just like always. 

You let yourself get lost in it, and the pain begins to ebb, if only a little, before you open your eyes again.

"Where's Wrecker?" you ask. Your voice is soft, but everyone in the room hears it and the tension is palpable. They exchange glances, their expressions grim.

"He's resting," Tech says carefully. "His injuries are relatively minor, and the surgery was successful, but his mental state is... concerning."

You swallow hard. You knew it was bad, but hearing Tech say it out loud is different. It makes it real, and the weight of that reality is suffocating. You take a shaky breath and nod, but the tears are threatening again, and your voice is unsteady.

"Can I see him?"

"He doesn't want to see anyone," Echo says. His voice is low, his words measured. He's... He's not himself. Not yet."

"I know." Your voice cracks. "I just... I want him to know that I'm here. That I care. That I..."

"Give him time," Hunter murmurs, his expression pained. "He's not in a good place."

"But I—"

"No." Rex's tone is gentle, but firm. "It's not a good idea. Trust me. He needs space. He needs to figure out how to live with what he did."

"It wasn't him," you protest, but even as you say it, you know that it's not entirely true. It was him. Just not the him you know.

"I know," he says. "But it was his hands that almost killed you. And that's hard to come to terms with."

You swallow hard and nod. You know he's right, but it doesn't make it any easier. It doesn't ease the pain in your chest or the ache in your head. You want to see him, to talk to him, but you know it's not what he needs. It's not what you need.

You let out a shuddering breath, your shoulders sagging. You're exhausted, and the world is spinning, and all you want to do is collapse into a ball and cry.

Tech approaches, and he hesitates for a moment before his hand settles gently on your shoulder. His eyes are sympathetic, but the frown on his face is deep, his expression troubled.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"I'm okay," you answer. The lie comes easily, almost automatically. It's a reflex. One that has been well-honed over the years, but one that's not very convincing. Not anymore.

He nods and studies you for a moment. Then, he glances at Rex.

"Help her onto the cot," he says. "I'll do a quick examination and treat her injuries."

"No," you protest. "I'm fine. I just need to sleep."

"You're not fine," Rex counters. He's not unkind, but his tone leaves no room for argument. "You were attacked, and you have a head injury. We need to make sure that you're okay."

"I am. Really."

"We need to make sure," Tech insists.

"I'm not—"

"You're getting checked out," Rex says firmly. "And that's final."

You open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your lips. You know he's right. Your entire body aches, and every breath is painful. You're not fine. You know it. But the idea of hearing it from someone else is too much. It's too real.

Rex gently guides you towards the cot, his arm around your waist, and you let him. There's no point in fighting, not when the others are worried about you. So you let him help you onto the bed, and Omega sits next to you, her small hand finding yours.

Tech begins his examination, and Rex hovers nearby, watching closely. You feel small and fragile and weak, and it's a strange feeling. You're used to being strong, to fighting your own battles. But now, you can barely stand on your own. It's a reminder of how fragile you really are, and it makes your chest tighten. No matter how good of a Jedi you can claim to be, it's impossible to ignore that the only reason you're alive is because Rex stepped in and saved your life.

"You have a mild concussion," Tech reports, and his words pull you out of your thoughts. "Several bruised ribs, and multiple contusions." He pauses, and his gaze shifts to your throat. "And those bruises will need time to heal."

Your hand reaches up, and you touch the spot where Wrecker had been holding you. The skin is tender, and the contact makes you wince.

"Yeah," Rex says, anger clear in his voice. "That's going to be a tough one to cover up."

You look away.

"It could have been worse," Tech points out.

"It was bad enough,” he snaps. When you flinch, Rex's eyes widen, regret flickering across his features. "Sorry. I didn't mean..."

"It’s okay." Your voice is quiet, almost a whisper. You swallow, but the lump in your throat remains. "I know."

Tech moves to examine the bruise on your stomach, his touch gentle.

"We can apply bacta to the worst of the bruises," Tech offers. "That will help with the healing process."

You nod, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. You close your eyes and try not to think about it. About the way Wrecker had been staring at you. The coldness in his eyes. The rage. The hatred. The way his hands had tightened around your throat. The way he had been intent on killing you.

"Can I help you?"

Tech's voice is soft, and he sounds unsure of himself. It's such a stark contrast to his usual confidence, and it makes your chest tighten. This is hard for him, too. Hard for all of them.

"I'm okay," you murmur. "Really."

"You don’t have to be," Tech says. His tone is gentle, but there's an edge to it. “We understand, and we'll do our best to make sure that you're taken care of."

You open your eyes and look at him, and the sympathy in his gaze makes you want to cry. You don't want to be the one everyone's worrying about. You don't want to be the helpless victim, the one who needs to be coddled and comforted. You're a Jedi. You're supposed to be the one taking care of others, not the other way around.

But there's nothing you can do. Nothing you can say. So you nod, letting the tears spill down your cheeks, and Tech places a hand on your shoulder.

"Thank you," you whisper, and the words come out sounding more like a sob.

"Of course," Tech replies, and there's an unfamiliar warmth in his voice. "You're one of us, and we take care of our own."

He turns back to his instruments, and you lay down, resting your head on the pillow. The medbay is quiet, save for the soft beeps and whirrs of the machines, and the familiar sounds are oddly comforting. Tech continues to examine and treat you, his movements careful and precise. He works silently, and the others are gathered nearby, their attention focused on you. It's strange, but it feels nice, being the center of their concern. It makes you feel safe, and it eases some of the pain and fear and uncertainty.

You're surrounded by your family. By the people who love you and care about you. And as the exhaustion overwhelms you, and the pain fades into a dull ache, you realize that's all that really matters. You may not be fine, but you're alive, and you have people that care about you. And that's more than some can say.

It's been three days since the chip incident, and things are... strained. You've barely seen Wrecker, and when you have, he hasn't said a word. He won't look at you. He won't even be in the same room as you. It hurts, but you're trying to be patient. Trying to give him the space he needs. But it's hard, and every day, the ache in your chest grows a little bit stronger.

You'd hesitated to say goodbye to Rex, and he'd again offered to take you with him. To keep you safe, to give you a place to heal. And again, you'd refused, promising him that things would be okay. And they would. You're certain. They had to be. 

But the entire time you'd spoken to him in hushed whispers, you could feel Wrecker's eyes on you. When you'd finally pulled away from Rex to board the Marauder, Wrecker had turned on his heel, disappearing into the ship without a word. He hadn't so much as glanced at you, let alone said anything.

The pain of that had cut deeper than the bruises on your throat, but you'd hidden it, plastering a smile on your face for the others, even though they all knew better.

The daring escape you'd made from Bracca had only served to complicate matters, and the entire team was on edge after encountering Crosshair again. The tension in the air is thick, and it seems like everyone is walking on eggshells, afraid of setting someone off. 

It's a far cry from the usual banter, teasing, and camaraderie that's typical aboard the ship, and the only sounds are the hum of the engine and the occasional beep from the instrument panel.

No one has spoken in hours, and the silence is oppressive. You haven't left your bunk since that morning, the high vantage point allowing you to see everything without having to interact with anyone.

It's lonely, but it's also safe.

No one bothers you, and you're free to let your mind wander. You watch the others, and the sight of them fills you with a strange mixture of emotions. You're proud of them, and the love you feel for them is almost overwhelming. But there's also a sense of loss.

What happened was a reminder that everything could change in an instant, and you're not ready for that. You're not ready to lose any of them. Not when they're the only family you have left.

You close your eyes, drawing in a deep breath, and let the feeling wash over you. It's a bittersweet sort of sorrow, and it makes your heart ache. You know that they're not going anywhere, that the five of them are a force to be reckoned with, but you can't help the anxiety that lingers, the fear that something might go wrong. You've already lost so much. You can't lose them, too.

The sound of footsteps approaching the bunk pulls you from your thoughts, and you open your eyes, expecting to see Echo. But the figure in the doorway isn't him.

"I'm sorry."

Wrecker's voice is barely a whisper, but it's loud enough to startle you, and you sit up, wincing as your ribs protest. He’s standing below, looking up at you with his mismatched eyes. His eyes are wide and pleading, and he's fidgeting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. You can tell he's nervous, but there's a hint of something else, too. Sadness. Guilt. Shame.

"It's okay," you say automatically, but the words feel hollow.

"No. It's not." His voice is low, and there's an edge of desperation to it, and his hands squeeze into fists. You can feel the anger radiating off him, and it makes your blood run cold. He looks like he wants to punch a hole in the wall, and you have no doubt that he could if he wanted to. He could tear the whole ship apart. He could tear you apart.

You swallow, but your throat is dry, and the fear is starting to build.

"I could have killed you," Wrecker continues, his voice shaking. “I... I wanted to kill you. I was gonna..."

He trails off, unable to finish the sentence, and his shoulders slump. The anger fades, and the shame is so intense that you feel it like a physical blow. Wrecker closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face, his shoulders trembling.

"I tried to kill my own brothers," he says, and his voice cracks. "And I... I almost..."

He takes a shaky breath, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, and he shakes his head. You're at a loss for words, and all you can do is watch him struggle with the weight of his emotions. You want to say something, to offer some kind of comfort, but you can't. You're just as broken as he is.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and his voice is thick with emotion. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Wrecker..."

He looks up at you, and the raw anguish in his eyes makes your heart twist.

"Wrecker, please, it's okay. I know it wasn't—"

"No. It's not." He shakes his head, his expression pained. "It wasn't me. But it was."

You open your mouth to argue, but he holds up a hand, cutting you off.

"I remember everything. I remember wanting to hurt you. I remember how good it felt. How right." His eyes darken, his lips curling into a snarl. "I'm a monster."

"No, Wrecker," you insist. "No. You're not."

"Yes, I am."

"You're not," you repeat, more firmly this time. You haven’t used the Force in days, but it flows through you now, warm and reassuring, and you can feel the conviction in your own words. "You're a good man. You're not a monster. I saw you try to fight it. I saw the struggle. I know what's in your heart. And it's not evil."

"I should have fought harder." His fists clench, and he hangs his head. "I'm supposed to protect you, but I... I'm the one who tried to..."

"Wrecker."

Your voice is sharp, but he doesn't respond. He's lost in his own guilt, his own self-loathing, and the weight of it is crushing him.

"Please, Wrecker, stop." You slide off the bunk, landing lightly on your feet, and you approach him, reaching for his hands. He pulls away, and it feels like a knife in your heart. "You don't have to apologize. I'm not mad at you. I'm worried about you."

"You should be." His voice is flat, his words coming out in a growl. "I tried to kill you."

"But you didn't."

"I would have." He turns away from you, his jaw clenched, his shoulders tense. "If Rex hadn't stepped in, I would have."

You reach out, laying a hand on his arm, but he flinches, jerking away from your touch. It's a rejection, plain and simple, but it's not unexpected. He's pulling away, both physically and emotionally, and it's tearing you apart.

"Don't," he says. "Just don't."

"Please," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "Please, talk to me."

"What's there to talk about?" He sounds bitter, defeated, but he doesn't pull away this time. "I'm a monster."

"No, you're not," you insist. "You're my hero."

"Don't say that," he mutters.

"It's true. You are.” He starts to speak again, but you’re faster, and your words cut him off. "You saved my life. Over and over again. You've never given up on me, even when the odds were stacked against us. You've always been there for me, no matter what."

He doesn't say anything, but you can tell that your words are affecting him. His shoulders are hunched, his body tense, but there's a tremor in his muscles, a slight shudder. You step closer, pressing yourself against his back, and you wrap your arms around his waist. You hold him tight, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, and you rest your forehead between his shoulder blades.

"I trust you, Wrecker. I know you'd never hurt me willingly. And the truth is, I could've fought back. I could've stopped you. But I didn't. Because I trust you. I trust you with my life. And I always will."

He stiffens, his breath hitching.

"You're not a monster," you continue. "You're not a liability. You're my boyfriend, and you're my best friend. And I'm not afraid of you."

You press a kiss between his shoulder blades, lingering there for a moment. Your throat is tight, your heart racing, and you're filled with an overwhelming sense of affection and devotion. The feelings are strong, almost overwhelming, and you don't try to push them down. You don't try to hide them. You just let them flow through you, let them fill the space between the two of you. 

You've held them back for so long, afraid to show your feelings, afraid to let yourself be vulnerable, but now, the dam has broken, and you're drowning in the intensity of your emotions. There's a warmth spreading through your chest, a kind of peace that you've never felt before, and it's almost euphoric. It's like the first breath after surfacing from a deep dive, and the air is sweet, filling your lungs.

"I love you, Wrecker," you murmur.

"Don't," he growls, but the tension is gone from his body, his muscles relaxing under your touch. He leans back against you, his head dropping forward, his eyes closed.

"I do," you say softly. "I love you. And I'm not afraid."

You hold him, the two of you locked together, neither of you willing to move, afraid that the moment will end. He's trembling, his breathing shallow, his fingers curling around your arms, but he doesn't pull away. He doesn't reject you.

"I trust you," you whisper. "I love you. And nothing will ever change that."

There's a long, heavy silence, and then, finally, he speaks.

"I love you, too."

It's barely a whisper, but the words are clear, and the weight of them makes your heart soar. You tighten your arms around his waist, burying your face in his back, and you feel the tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You’re so happy that it almost hurts, the emotions swelling in your chest, making it difficult to breathe. It feels like you're floating, the weight of everything finally lifted.

“I love you so much,” he mutters. “More than anything. But you should be with someone else. Someone safer. Someone who won't..."

"Wrecker, stop." Your voice is firm, and you squeeze him, making him gasp. "I don't want anyone else. I want you."

He takes a shaky breath, his hands moving down your arms until his fingers are laced with yours. He squeezes, his grip gentle, and you squeeze back.

"I don't deserve you," he says.

"Yes, you do."

Wrecker lets go of your hands, turning to face you, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes are wet, tears streaking his cheeks, but there's a softness in his expression that you haven't seen in a while. He reaches out, cupping your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing," you chide gently, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I told you, it's okay."

"But—"

You shake your head, placing a finger over his lips.

"Enough." Your voice is soft, but stern. "No more talking."

His brow furrows, confusion flickering across his features. Then, he gets it, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He nods, leaning down, his lips brushing against yours.

The kiss is soft, almost tentative, but there's an underlying hunger, a need that makes your skin tingle. You press closer, your arms winding around his neck, the kiss deepening, his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip.

He tastes like salt, the tears still drying on his cheeks, and the familiarity is comforting, soothing the ache in your heart. He's home. He's safe. And he loves you. Nothing else matters.

The kiss ends, the two of you gasping for breath, but you don't pull away. You stay close, your foreheads touching, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"I missed you," he murmurs.

"Me, too." You nuzzle his nose, your hands stroking his cheeks. "So much."

"M’sorry."

"I know.” You press a kiss to the tip of his nose, your fingers caressing the back of his neck. "But you're not responsible for this. None of us are. The only person to blame is the one who put the chips in your heads. You can't be held responsible for what they did."

"I know, but..."

"But nothing," you say, your tone firm. "You're a victim, Wrecker. Just like the rest of us."

He sighs, his shoulders slumping, the tension draining from his body. He's still upset, the guilt is still there, but you can feel it ebbing, the darkness fading.

"I don't blame you. None of us do,” you continue. "We're all just happy that we have you back. We're a family. We take care of each other."

Wrecker gives a small nod, the sadness in his eyes fading a little, replaced by something else. Something warmer, more hopeful.

"You're my family," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "My brothers. Omega. And you."

He pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close. "And I will never stop taking care of you. No matter what."

You bury your face in his shoulder, squeezing him tight. You can feel the tears building again, but they're different this time. They're not a product of pain or loss or fear. They're tears of happiness, of relief, of love. You close your eyes, letting the feeling wash over you, letting yourself get lost in it. You've come so far, endured so much, but here, in his arms, you're finally home.

Wrecker's fingers curl into the back of your shirt, his breathing shallow, his face buried in your hair.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick.

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me."

You pull away, looking up at him, a smile on your lips.

"Never."

He smiles back, the expression brightening his entire face. You can't remember the last time you've seen him look this happy, and the sight fills you with a warm glow. This is where you belong, where you've always belonged. With him. With your family.

You kiss him, long and slow and tender, and when the kiss breaks, the two of you are both gasping for breath, the flush high on your cheeks.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice rough.

"I love you, too." You reach up, tracing his jawline with your fingertips, your eyes meeting his.

"More than anything," he continues. "And I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you. Never again."

His voice is thick with emotion, and there's a fierceness in his gaze, a protectiveness that makes your heart skip a beat. He means it. He'll keep you safe, no matter the cost. And knowing that, believing that, fills you with an overwhelming sense of comfort. It eases the pain, the fear, the anxiety, and for the first time in weeks, you feel... whole.

You're safe. You're loved. You're home. And no matter what happens, no matter how hard things get, that will never change.

"I know." You lean up, brushing your lips against his, and his arms tighten around you. "And I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."

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