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523rdrebel · 9 months

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Chapter 1 -

Summary: AU/Canon Divergent - Set after the rescue of Crosshair, Omega, and Tech from the clutches of Dr. Hemlock. The Batch settles down on Pabu and are, for the moment, able to hide from the Empire. Crosshair, with much grumbling, is convinced to see one of the local doctors to monitor his recovery. Unfortunately for Crosshair, Dr. Isabella Ramót is a ray of sunshine and a breath of fresh air - and totally capable of handling his harsh, rough demeanor.

Rating: T, SFW

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5, Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Crosshair had scowled and huffed but his brothers had insisted that he allow the local medic to take a look at him and monitor his recovery. He was not blind, he could see the dramatic thinness his body had taken, feel the atrophied muscles that once held such strength and discipline. Stopping for frequent rests when he had to walk anywhere more than twenty feet, which left him sweating, clammy, his breathing labored. Then there were the scars, both mental and physical, from his internment and torture at the hands of the Empire. But Crosshair wasn’t ready to open that particular can of worms, preferring instead to force it deep, deep, down.

Crosshair sighed, rolled his eyes, and schooled his face into his most sinister scowl as he stepped over the threshold into the modest medical office. His critical eye scanned the room- it was neat and organized, though obviously well used, and he was surprised to see the warm touches of flowers and paintings on display instead of the harsh white, dark grays, and bright lights he’d come to associate with medical facilities.

A woman with wavy copper hair, currently worn in two tight buns on either side of her head, leaned against the counter across the room, seemingly occupied by some holo-flimsy files. She was wearing a long sleeve black shirt and golden yellow wide-legged pants.

Crosshair stood, or rather hovered, awkwardly in the entrance debating if he should run away before she notices him.

She glances up and locks eyes with him, recognition shining across her face, "Ah, Crosshair!” She pushes off from the counter and approaches him quickly, “I’m Isabella, but my friends call me Izzy." She smiles brightly, hands extended for a handshake, which he ignores. The woman, unfazed, holds both hands up in a disarming motion. It made Crosshair’s lip curl in disgust.

He scoffs, eyes making a denigrating scan of her form, "I'm not your friend." His voice is a low, dangerous rumble.

"Yet." Isabella lifts her chin up answering with a challenging smirk. He simply glares in response, but she takes his sharp attitude in stride. She shrugs, the smirk remaining, "Well, then don't call me Izzy.” She motions for him to follow her over to the medical bed and pats it softly. He rolls his eyes but sits down regardless. Let's get this over with. She nods and regards him with a teasing glance, “Isabella is fine."

Another derisive snort, "I don’t think so... Bells." His voice is dripping with condescension, an angry venom spit at her face in defiance. Crosshair’s mocking smile falters ever so slightly as he takes in her reaction.

Her eyes twinkle and a little laugh escapes her perfect mouth, “Oh! Bells is so much better than Izzy.” She smiles brightly and begins her checks, gently grabbing his chin to direct his face then moving her handheld scanner slowly while he grumbles.

His mumble is nearly unintelligible, his already intense scowl becoming somehow more intense, “Bells is a stupid name…” Ugh, why is she kriffing smiling about it.

Bells is quick and efficient with her checks, observing his vitals, determining the level of atrophy his muscles had succumbed to, and marking down any points of concern. Her hands are gentle but firm, he watches as her face changes from that insufferably bright expression to focused and confident professionalism. He finds himself relaxing to her touch and soothed by her soft commands- then before he knows it she’s finished.

“Alright, Crosshair… I’m not going to insult your intelligence by telling you what you already know. So instead, I’ll lead with the solutions.” She holds out a datapad and nods at him to take it. “As you can see, I have developed a meal and physical therapy plan that, presuming you follow it, should help you to get back to your former strength and capabilities.”

His eyes roam over the plan with disgusted disinterest, he scoffs, “And if I don’t.”

Her eyes darken slightly, “At best you take significantly longer to recover and I annoy you for an extended amount of time,” She flashes him her most obnoxious smile, “at worst, your condition worsens and you could potentially lose functionality.”

“How about a Bacta tank then?”

She gestures widely, displaying the modest facility, “Aside from the fact that I don’t exactly have access to that amount of medical grade bacta, let alone access to the bacta tank itself?” Her lips quirk up in an amused smirk and she shakes her head, “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. Bacta is effective for many kinds of fresh wounds and injuries, but it cannot regrow or retrain muscles. You’ll just have to do that the hard way.”

“Wonderful.”

She gestures to the datapad, “-May I continue?”

“Fine.” Crosshair grinds the word with his teeth, and fixes his glare back down at the datapad.

“Follow the meal plan and stay committed to the physical exercises, check-ups every three days for now,-"

“I didn’t take you for a sadist, Bells.” The sardonic comment slips out of its own volition, his glare widens only slightly.

“-Only when the situation calls for it.” Her response is lightning quick and her eyes sparkle but she moves on just as quickly. “Do not mistake me, Crosshair, I take my job very seriously. You are my patient, which means your recovery is my job.” She punctuates her point by pointing her finger towards him, “I assure you, I am not afraid to pester you and annoy you into following my highly informed medical recommendations.” Her face is effectively smug, “If you insist on being a problem, well– I do love a challenge.”

He couldn't resist the stubborn smirk that tugged at his lips. I’d like to see that, the thought struck him unbidden. How irritating.

“I’ve started you off with light activity to help you rebuild your body’s strength and stamina.”

Still shocked that he’d allowed her to see him break so quickly, he simply growls in response, his scowl intensifying further.

She continues, if she noticed his reaction she made no indication, “I expect you to work those physical exercises and stretches into your day, but don’t overwork yourself. Pushing yourself too hard could cause further, more permanent damage. I’ll monitor your progress-”

“Why?” His voice is low and flat.

“-I’m sorry?”

“Why– do you care?”

“You are my patient, first of all. But you are also a person who’s been put through a lot of pain and trauma. I care because you deserve to have a chance at a life that is free of those things.”

“You think you can fix me then? You think you can make it all better?” His face is scrunched and red and snarls through his words, “Then you’re naive and childish. Stop playing games–”

But Isabella is not unfamiliar with hurts that strike and lash out, so she steels her soft heart with practiced patience. She leans back against her work desk, crossing her arms over her chest, “Ah-Do you believe that I shouldn’t care then?”

Crosshair rolls his eyes and spits out venom with his words, “Why waste your time?”

Isabella shrugs, her voice taking on a slight firmness, “I will do whatever I want with my time, waste it or not.” He scoffs and looks away but she leans forward and reaches out one hand and hovers over his which clutches the bed in a deathly grip. She hesitates, waiting to see if he will pull away. He doesn’t but his scowl darkens and she instead places her hand beside his, a little space between. “Believe it or not, Crosshair. Some people do actually help people simply to–Help.”Her words are earnest, causing Crosshair’s stomach to churn painfully.

He laughs snidely, “Shame… As a Doctor, I would’ve thought you were smarter than that.”

She startles and piques him further by laughing, “Insults won’t work on me.” She places a hand under her chin, thinking, “But I might be willing to accept bribes in the form of caf, candies, or pastries.”

Crosshair is not used to being so quickly and effectively put off balance by someone. He stares back at her in silence, brow furrowed in displeasure for letting this woman affect him. Isabella gathers a few items and hands him a small bag. “What is that?’

“Just a few things to help you out. Herbal teas, an ointment for sore muscles, and some medicinal items to help with sleep.” She sighs and rolls her eyes, “Just take it.”

He does, though reluctantly. Isabella stands back up straight and claps her hands lightly, “Alright, Crosshair, you’re free to go. I will follow up with you in three days.” She gives him a soft little wave as he leaves the medical office.He walks slowly back to the lodging that has been provided to him, his mind burdened with memories of his weakness. No wonder the Empire broke you and threw you away, all it takes is a pretty smile and you lose your nerve. His dark mood is perpetuated by further evidence of his body’s loss of strength when has to take frequent breaks, leaning against the nearest building and taking slow, deep breaths. By the time he’s made it back inside his temporary lodging, he is sweating, shaking, and breathing heavily. Kriff.

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#rebelwrites #Suflowers & Blasters #Chapter 1 #Crosshair x OC #OC - Dr. Isabella Ramót #Grumpy & Sunshine #Crosshair is Rescued #Tech Lives #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction

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