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staycalmandhugaclone · 1 year

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If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved - Echo! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!

One of my besties on here mentioned they had some specific aversions severe gore, so I made a toned down version so they could still enjoy the story. Please don't hesitate to reach out with requests like this! If you're invested in my writings but aren't comfortable with a certain trigger warning, just let me know and I'll do my best to offer a version that is better for you!

Febuwhump Day 6 (Censored)

Secrets Revealed – OC Medic & TBB - An unexpected EMP forces Doc to reveal aspects of their past that could well turn the batch against them. Click here for the uncensored version.

Warnings: Mild descriptions of gore/injury, language, panic attacks, angst, PTSD flashbacks, self-depreciation, offhand reference to minor character death. This one hits a lot of potentially triggering topics pretty intensely and is fueled from a very dark place I was in with my own injury. Be kind to yourself. Healing is a nonlinear process.

WC: 6,291

Shoulder rolling to shift the strap of my medbag out of the crevice between my shoulder bell and chest plate, I glanced behind me to where Tech stood before a large blast door, fingers flying across the screen of his datapad. He’d been fighting to splice the security program for several minutes already, and each minute lost brought his brows furrowing closer together, lips bunching in annoyance. Turning my attention back to the hall behind us, I tried to listen for any signs of approaching enemies, but Echo and Crosshair’s distraction elsewhere on the Separatist flagship seemed to be a grand success. Hunter and Wrecker were on the level directly below us, acting as a secondary contingency plan should we run into trouble.

“It’s no use.” Eyes wide, I turned in shock to find Tech disconnecting his handheld from the panel near the door. “It would likely take me several more minutes to breach their firewalls. I am not comfortable with such a delay.”

“Guess Echo and I should have swapped places.” I said apologetically, earning a skeptical look from the tall clone.

“Echo is a highly skilled arc trooper. His chances of survival behind enemy lines far outweigh your own whereas your knowledge of the sciences will be useful in skimming through their records for relevant data.” I shot him a blank look - I’d been there when Hunter explained our roles, just the same as him.

“Doubling down on how quickly we can sift through their records is only worthwhile if we can get in there.” He didn’t wait for me to finish my retort before shutting down his datapad and hooking it to his waist.

“That won’t be a problem.” He dismissed. Without allowing me a chance to respond, he brought his comm to his lips. “Wrecker, go ahead and deploy-”

“I get to use it?!” Wrecker shouted. Tech frowned at the interruption, but his voice remained calm as he answered.

“Yes; it seems they’ve increased se-”

“Yeah, yeah; enough talkin’!” Tech let out a small sigh before beginning to shut down the communicator.

“Very well. Cutting comms.” I frowned, unsure why whatever Wrecker was doing would warrant actually turning off his gear.

“Is he blowing up some power unit for the door?” I asked doubtfully. His eyebrow cocked at my question.

“In a sense. I would advice turning off your communicator.” I stood still a moment longer, trying to understand. “Once the EMP detonates, we will be able to force open the door enough to” I didn’t hear the rest of his sentence, heart plummeting.

“E… EMP?” My voice nearly caught in my throat, body already taking a half step back. Hearing the sudden fear in my voice, Tech turned his full attention to me, as though he might find answers with a mere glance.

“Yes. That’s why he and Hunter are positioned directly below us.” Panic turned my blood to ice, heart bursting into a frantic pace.

“N… the-the radius – what’s the radius?!” Stammered words quickly turned into a shout, legs stumbling to remember how to move.

“Approximately thirty meters – enough to allow”

“No-no-no-no.” Thirty meters. Run. Run. Don’t think. The futility of the mad dash didn’t matter; the certainty that there simply wasn’t time to cross such a distance. The concern and confusion in Tech’s voice as he called my name didn’t matter. Just run.

I barely felt the ripple of static as the world went dark. Mid-sprint, my ankle went dead, foot falling limp and catching on the hard ground. And then I was falling, body crashing with enough force to tear the air from my lungs. For a single, blissful second, my mind was too taken by that threat of suffocation, lungs burning as my diaphragm balked beneath the sudden assault, but then that dread returned.

I remembered knowing we on the Separatist ship. I remembered knowing that Tech was with me, that Hunter and Wrecker were barely ten meters below us, and the Havoc Marauder was carefully hidden against an emergency escape on the outer hull. I remembered that the ship crash that first brought me officially into the Republic army was nearly two years ago and those wounds had long since healed, but, the instant the lights went out, those memories slipped away amidst the terror of nerves screaming beneath a memory far more consuming: pain.

Deaf to the wheezing of my faltered breathes, logic abandoned me. There was only fear; limbs flailing to push me upright, as though maybe I was mistaken; maybe I’d merely tripped, but, when I pulled my leg under me, when the sweeping beam of a flashlight showed how my foot hung listless to any demand to move, I was right back on that crippled transport unable to unsee the ruin of that joint.

“No-no-no.” The senseless plea stammered over numb limps and I felt myself crash back to the ground, strength abandoning me. Good leg dragging atop the smooth tiles, I just managing to push myself back against the wall, hands clawing into my shin as I stared dumbly at the useless joint. I knew there was no blood soaking beneath my hands, knew there was no pain shooting from ruined flesh, but the very memory of that long ago agony locked my every muscle, terrified that one wrong move might reawaken shrieking nerves – remind them that I should hurt, that it would never stop hurting.

I couldn’t hear the way my rapid gasps deteriorated into broken whimpers, nor the growingly frantic calls from Tech as he dropped to his knees beside me. It wasn’t until his hand slipped beneath mine, just beginning to cradle the wretched limb, that I even realized I wasn’t alone, and that horror struck me anew.

“Don’t touch me!” The screech tore from my throat, body violently lashing out to kick him away, still unable to tear my gaze from the way my foot simply… dangled, rocking listlessly with the momentum of my frantic movements. The thud of plastoid hitting metal was enough to pull my gaze away for just a moment, but it was enough. The fierce concern gleaming through the rich umber of his eyes… my friend… he was…

Bringing one hand back to bury my forehead against my palm, I strained to drag myself back to some level of control, cursing the fluttered racing of my heart, the way my entire torso convulsed in gulping, too-shallow gasps, lips twisted into a feral snarl as my teeth ground painfully together. The trill of a comm booting up drew my attention back to him, gaze wavering between him the that cursed joint.

“Very good. Now, can you tell me what happened?” I saw his mouth move long before hearing some distorted semblance of his voice. Had he been speaking earlier? What… what did he say? The familiar rhythm of my name fell from his lips in a tone far gentler than I’d ever heard from the man, dragging my focus back just a bit more.

“I will avoid contact as best I can, but I need you to help me understand what’s wrong.” He held his hands out before him, fingers splayed as though to further prove he wasn’t a threat. I found myself only able to stare at him for several seconds, mind lilting between the madness of fear and that fleeting grasp of logic. Tech. It was Tech kneeling before me. We were on a mission… My ankle…

“M… I-I…” I watched my fingers curl tighter around my leg, eyes sharpening into a glare as I looked back to my ankle in a sickening flurry of disgust and rage.

“Hunter, do you read me?” Scowling anew at the violent tremble I couldn’t begin to hide, my attention swept back to the man before me, the carefully leveled crispness of his voice a painful contrast to the unrelenting panic continuing to flood my veins with adrenaline. “I am unsure what happened, but the EMP seems to have compromised Doc.” Compromised. The consequences of his words broke through the fog of distortion.

“N… no-no! I’m not…” My lips moved before I could fully grasp the entirety of the thought, hand shaking as it darted out to snatch at his wrist. Still, I couldn’t quite grasp the sharp bark of Hunter’s reply.

“Just a moment – standby.” Tech said absently before disconnected the line. “Are you lucid enough to explain what happened?” Frowning, I had to repeat his words silently before finding some vague meaning. What happened…

“The… the EMP,” I stammered, gaze dropping to where my hand continued to cling to his wrist. He didn’t pull away, and the subtle warmth seeping through that slim space between his vambrace and glove suddenly felt overwhelming, attention tuning into it with a focus wildly disproportionate to the simplicity of it. “It killed the… the MPS.” He was silent for barely a second before understanding dawned on him.

“A micel power supply? You have a mechanical leg?” He asked, looking at my ankle with new interest. I’d just begun forming a reply when his hand moved toward the limb once more, and that terror tore through me with the same ferocity, body shying from him as though his very touch might rend my flesh to ruin.

“Don’t!” Even I could hear the madness in my voice, wide eyes staring blindly at my ankle as the color drained from my face. Instantly, he pulled back once more, expression falling back into that studious attentiveness, mind churning over some illogical equation.

“If this is from before you joined us, it should be long passed any ill effects from merely being touched.” He pressed, the simple rationality of his words reawakening the stomach-churning shame and wrenching a choked sob from me, knuckles cracking from where they still clenched his wrist.

“The battery should be easily replaceable. This is merely a temporary inconvenience.” He continued, confusion pulling his expression into a subtle frown. “For ease of mobility, a splint will keep the joint stationary until we can requisition a replacement.” The mere thought of seeing that limb in a splint again churned my stomach so sharply, I had to snatch my lip between my teeth to still the gag.

“What’s going on up there, Tech?” Hunter’s voice chimed impatiently from his comm, earning a flash of irritation from the pilot.

“Mechanical limb I wasn’t aware of – the EMP drained the power supply, but…” The words muttered absently from his lips, gaze quickly drifting back to mine.

“Doc has a robot arm?” The mic only just picked up Wrecker’s comment.

“Leg, unfortunately.” Tech automatically corrected.

“Can you get the both of you back to the Marauder?” Hunter asked.

“No!” The word burst from me with a whole new dread. “N-no, no, I’m… I’m fine-I’m…” I had to take a long moment to breathe, jaw shifting in some desperate drive to explain – to prevent them from calling off the mission because of me. “We don’t need to fall back!” It sounded like I was begging him… maybe I was.

“I believe there is time to retrieve at least some of the data before we need to leave.” Tech stated, eyes burring into mine as I looked up at him in shocked gratitude.

“Fine.” Hunter nearly growled after a long pause, “Wrecker and I will double-time it to you, but if there’s any sign of danger, get out of there.”

“Understood.” With that, he disconnected the call once more before watching me in a heavy silence, waiting. I tried to speak, lips twitching with words I couldn’t quite force into existence.

“If I may voice a theory,” He started, voice dropping into something almost gentle, “It seems whatever injury led to your augmentation left a greater impact than the augmentation itself.” Blinking against the burn of tears I refused to let fall, I felt the air fill my lungs; felt the still painfully quick racing of my heart; felt the heat of his wrist that he still made no effort to free from my grasp, and some wretched cocktail of defeat and fear and anger stole through me.

“It was… it was bad, okay?!” I finally snapped, already losing what little control I’d just begun to regain over my too-quick breathes. “I was… I was alone, and it… hm… It was c-crushed… It…” Just thinking of that night… my stomach seized, body going taut with the effort to force it back under control. I didn’t want to look at him – didn’t want to see that impatience or frustration in the face of my weakness, but my gaze seemed drawn to him. And I felt myself go still. There was no hint of annoyance in those eyes. With a deep quiet, he merely listened, focus tuned so fully onto me, I wondered just how much he learned from everything left unspoken.

“What you are describing is a type of post traumatic stress disorder.” He explained with a calm I found myself captivated by. “Just because it is considered a mental disorder, does not make it any less severe or debilitating that a physical injury.” A glimmer of sympathy and regret touched those eyes before he continued, “But, at present, I am afraid there is very little leeway to allow for appropriate consideration. If we are to finish the mission, we need to move quickly. That means securing your joint to prevent it from becoming a greater liability.” My throat constricted against the truth in his words. “If you are unable to apply a splint yourself, I can”

“No.” It left on a sharp breath, but he didn’t press as I gathered my thoughts, finally forcing myself to release him if only to begin slipping the pack from my shoulders, movements jolted and unsteady. “I can… I can do it.” He drew a slow, deep breath before reaching out to help me free my arms from the unyielding straps.

“Go.” I instructed quietly, trying not to think as I began digging through the main pouch to retrieve the brace. “I can do this.” Despite the weakness of my voice, he hesitated only a moment longer before nodding and pushing himself to his feet. Without another word, he darted back down the hall toward the powerless door.

I focused on the sounds booming through the darkness as I flicked on my own flashlight, forgotten in the depth of that momentary insanity. I focused on the quiet grunts as he strained against the weight of the door that I was supposed to help him with; listened to the metal finally begin to grind open. Eyes blindly following the movements of hands I tried vainly not to remember were mine, I listened to the quiet flutter of his footsteps darting through the neighboring room, certain he was using a mobile power source to boot up individual servers.

I was supposed to be helping him – pouring through that endless data right beside him; shouldering some of the weight of the endless responsibilities constantly thrown at these men I so desperately wanted to protect, but instead I sat curled against the wall, hands seizing inches from my unresponsive foot, grip burring into the split until my fingers ached. Move. Move, dammit! Just tie the damn thing up so you don’t slow them down any more than you already have!

Chest shaking beneath gasps too shallow to even feign relief from the suffocation burning my lungs, I felt the muscles of my arms tense, straining to push the limbs forward, to function, to just touch that useless limb before Hunter and Wrecker could see me in such a pathetic state. The very tip of my finger just managed to brush against my heal, and my body shook as though even that fleeting sensation might burn me. But there was nothing. Of course, there was nothing.

With that mental block finally broken, I wrenched the splint around my ankle, movements rushed by my own frustration and contempt. If I had just done this when the EMP first went off, maybe I still could have been of some use to Tech, but I couldn’t begin to guess how much time had been wasted in that pointless panic.

When I finally managed to push myself up against the wall, mind still rebelling at even the thought of resting that foot atop the floor, the sound of quickly approaching footsteps echoed distantly through the darkness. Bag tucked into the corner, I leveled my blaster toward the sound, eyes straining in search of those familiar silhouettes, finger ready to dance atop the trigger if I saw anything but.

“Can’t get you out of here if you shoot us.” Hunter’s weary voice carried down the hall seconds before he and Wrecker came into sight, and I couldn’t bring myself to offer more than a huff of relief. They said nothing more as they trotted quickly up to me.

“How come you didn’t tell us about the leg? ‘bet Echo’s gonna be jealous we found us first!” Wrecker asked. Beneath that boisterous personality, there was a subtle gentleness in his words that robbed me of any façade of stability.

“It’s a long story.” I could only risk whispering the words on a slow sigh.

“Wrecker: stay with Tech. When Echo checks in, I don’t care how close to finishing he is – get him out of there.” Hunter ordered. Wrecker glanced between us a moment but gave a reluctant mockery of a salute and continued quickly toward the server room. Only after the grinding of metal signaled he’d reached the door did Hunter turn to me, modulator further emphasizing a long exhale. I tried to force out some explanation; some excuse that might grant me reprieve from the disappointment I could feel even through the darkness of his visor.

“I’m guessing there’s a very good reason you didn’t mention having a cybernetic?” Defeat stole through me. There was no escaping this.

“It’s my ankle.” I finally whispered. “Just the joint – I was able to save everything else.” He didn’t move for a moment. Watching me in a heavy silence, he leaned down and absently picked up my helmet. I stared blindly at it for several seconds before managing to convince my body to move, to take the object that had become such a vital part of my identity and slip it seamlessly over my head once more.

“Come on.” He grumbled, stepping up against my right side and wrapping an arm tightly around me. The initial surprise of his touch left me tense, but he merely tilted his visor toward me; waiting. Hand still trembling, I tentatively slid my arm over his shoulders, gaze dropping both from guilt and shame as well as from the lingering afterimage of fear demanding I guard that ruined limb. He took a single step forward and stopped, shifting expectantly toward me. My thigh moved forward, muscles tensing to finish the stride as best as the immobilized joint would allow.

I didn’t notice how my fingers began to grip at the thick muscle sloping down to his shoulder, back going rigid as I strained to convince my body to walk; to move; that there was no pain; no traumatic injury still in need of coddling. Twice, I managed to just brush the tile floors with my heel, but both times the limb jerked back, an icy sweat quickly seeping through my blacks and soaking into my hair as that tremble stole through me like an infection.

“Set your toes down first.” His voice dropped into a murmur, wrenching my attention back to him. “Don’t add any weight; just let your toes touch the floor.” He continued, unrushed and free of the irritation so prominent in my own impatience. It was only because of that quiet understanding that I was able to obey him, knee bending to just let my toes rest against that cold tile. I felt my shoulders tense, anticipating how the limb would balk, and I hated the distant thought that I knew this – that I’d walked countless others through these very steps so many times before, but was powerless to recall any of those fleeting memories in the face of my own need.

“Good.” He spoke like we were at the range; like he was teaching me how to better my aim rather than how to walk, and I wanted to sob for the gratitude of his gentleness in that moment. “Now, just let your foot roll down until it’s flat.” Fingers tightening around him once more, I shift to follow those soft words, body shaking so violently, it was only his grip around my back, hand flared over my ribs to hold me close against him that kept me from tumbling. Still, it took several seconds to ease my leg straight.

“You’re doing fine, Doc; just lean on me.” Eyes closing tightly, I felt my focus shift to the rhythm of his breath; how his chest swelled and sank in an unbothered dance. Calm. Steady. Strong. “Good.” I didn’t realize I’d managed to lay my foot flat atop the floor until that whispered praise rumbled from him. “Now, hold onto me as much as you need. One step at a time.” Before committing to that first hobbled jump, I felt my gaze pull back briefly.

“My pack.” I barely managed to breathe the apologetic words. He didn’t bother looking at it before answering.

“Wrecker will grab it on his way back.” He assured me with a certainty I couldn’t doubt. Still, I hesitated just a moment longer before finally hopping forward, freehand darting up to lock around the top lip of his chest plate to steady myself, body once more going rigid beneath the expectation of pain. He didn’t move; didn’t rush me to continue forward, and I knew I’d never find the words to thank him as that tremor grew so intense in those first few seconds of waiting for that delayed hurt to cripple me that I could barely breathe.

I remembered the depth of my terror back when the red emergency lighting distorted the crimson stains to black, when the scent of fuel saturated the air so profusely, each gasp left me sputtering and gagging. I remembered the jolt of a pain so consuming, it robbed the sight from my eyes and the sound from my ears. I remembered the fear of realizing I was alone – that my partner was dead, and I’d die at their side if I didn’t escape that deathtrap of twisted metal and flashing warning lights. I remembered how my stomach seized at the first touch of that split beneath my heel at the way my vision narrowed and darkened as I forced my hands to maneuver the ruined joint into some semblance of stability, bound beneath gauze and cloth and straps of anything I could find; and I remembered the endless nightmare of dragging myself through mounds of sharp rumble and burning debris. I remembered the very moment I finally realized there was grass beneath my gnarled hands; when I turned back to discover an inferno now danced through the ship in a horrid display of hellish shapes made all the more vivid in the pale light of that planet’s slivered moon.

“Still with me?” I didn’t look at him; unsure when my gaze had fallen to the pale floors. Eyes blinking harshly against the afterimage of those flames, I felt my chest seize with a sharp gasp and wondered vaguely how long I’d only managed those fluttered, shallow gasps.

“Damn it.” Defeated… the way that curse fell from numb lips and clenched teeth, it couldn’t sound like anything other than that self-deprecating hatred that flooded my eyes with tears and sent my heart twisting with shame.

“You can hold on to me, and I’ll carry you to the Marauder, or you can take a breath and try again.” There wasn’t a hint of judgement in those levelled words, and I felt myself still beneath them. If I told him that I couldn’t, that I simply wasn’t strong enough to fight free of the unrelenting horror of something that I’d only barely lived through… I knew he wouldn’t question it. He’d haul me across the length of the Separatist ship without quip or comment, and wouldn’t speak a word of it until I could breathe without suffocating beneath the ghosts of engine oil and iron and sick that only I could taste… But I revolted at the very thought of yielding to that fear. I pulled myself from that dying ship… I could get through this.

Jaw setting in an enraged determination, I forced myself to breathe, forced myself to recognize the scent of recycled air and dust and the subtle oil Hunter used to clean his gear. There was no smoke. No emergency lights flashing in the darkness. There was no pain. Gaze shifting toward the hallway stretching out before us, I moved my leg forward, focusing on the sensation of the very tip of my boot brushing atop the flooring to guide the limb safely down. Hunter moved smoothly beside me, hold just supportive enough to steady me as I found my own rhythm, weight tentatively shifting onto my heel as though to prove the joint would hold.

The next step was only slightly faster, stomach still churning against every gentle movement, but even that slowly quelled. Gradually, I found the quickness of my breath shifting from panic to simple exertion; found my mind able to hold onto thoughts deeper than constantly screaming at myself that I was fine; that I shouldn’t be feeling this terror anymore. And a new dread and shame began to creep over me. I had to tell him. I had to tell him everything, even if he turned away from me because of it.

“My ship was shot down.” I heard the words escape on some simile of my own voice, felt Hunter’s attention shift ever so slightly as he listened. “My partner died in the crash, and my ankle… It was held together by more bandages than anything. I could smell fuel – couldn’t breathe, the air was so thick with it. By the time I pulled myself out of it, the whole thing was on fire. Must have been a couple hours before the ones who shot me down finally found me.” I stopped walking. He didn’t press, watching in silence as I struggled to force out the words.

“It was Commander Wolffe.” I finally whispered, and I felt the confusion seep through him. Knowing the coming questions, I merely continued quietly instead of forcing him to ask. “We were on Agamar. As soon as a battle ended, my partner and I swept the fields for survivors – had a few contacts to sneak them back to Republic airspace.” He didn’t say anything for a long time, and that anxiety and dread solidified closer toward panic with each passing second.

“Why?” He asked, and I could hear the simple confusion in that single word. Air fleeing me in a rush before my chest jerked against a broken inhale, I barely wasted a moment’s thought before answering.

“Because I had to try. I knew I could save some of them, and the ones I couldn’t… I didn’t want them to die alone.” He was still a moment longer before starting forward once more, arm still firm around my back to push me with him, and I quickly fell back into that unsteady gait.

“So, a Separatist doctor of rehabilitation medicine decided to forsake their home world to help the Republic?” He clarified as we reached the edge of the area effected by the EMP, gleaming lights blessedly dimmed by my visor. I cringed at the label but didn’t try to argue. “How’d you wind up serving in the GAR? Why didn’t Commander Wolffe finish you off when he found you?” My memories of that night were distorted with pain and shock, only vaguely remembering the figures approaching me from the tree line; my fleeting attempts to explain myself.

“There was a Jedi with him,” I replied, “General Plo Koon. I don’t really know what I said to them, but he believed me. They got me off Agamar, and General Koon… I guess he had friends in high places – he made me a new identity as a citizen of Dantooine and brought me into the 104th as a medic once I was well enough to fight. I was with them for almost a year when Captain Rex had me transferred.” The escape pod hatch connected to the Marauder came into sight before he spoke again.

“I just need to know one more thing.” He said, pausing a single stride from that door. I turned to face him, loathing the impenetrable visor hiding those grey and gold streaked eyes from me. “Where do your loyalties lie? Really?” I felt myself stand just that much taller, blossoming under the relief that this was a question I could answer without a shadow of hesitation.

“I’m loyal to this squad… The Republic isn’t perfect, but I believe in what it’s trying to be.” I said, willing the words into existence with my every cell and breath. “I swear, Hunter, I’m loyal to Echo and Wrecker and Tech. I’m loyal to Crosshair… I’m loyal to you.” I felt the trill of panic sending static down my fingertips as I waited for whatever judgement he settled on, body nearly collapsing when he finally nodded.

“You’ll have to tell the others.” It was nearly an order as he reached forward to open the latch. “They deserve the truth.” My mouth went dry, but I couldn’t dismiss the relief I felt at those words. Whatever happened, at least I wouldn’t need to maintain this cover anymore – I wouldn’t need to keep this distance between us.

We’d just come out of that first stint of lightspeed travel, floating in the darkness of space as Tech prepared to enter the next hyperlane. I had to do it now, before I could talk myself into further delays until Hunter felt compelled to step in.

“I… I need to tell you all something – I…” I caught myself on the verge of hiding, chin falling toward my chest, eyes staring blindly at the metallic flooring, and forced myself to draw a sharp breath before meeting their eyes, forced myself not to shy away from the tension stealing through them as those gorgeous eyes I’d come to know and love turned to mine.

The perfect silence that surrounded my every word was both blessing and curse – if they’d interrupted even once, I don’t know if I would have had to strength to continue, but it also allowed nowhere for me to hide, voice trailing almost thoughtlessly from listless lips lest I lose myself in the panic of what telling them this could mean. That quiet lingered for too long after I finally finished.

Hunter stood passively beside me, granting his brothers what time they needed to gather their thoughts. Crosshair’s disinterest had gradually dissolved into a seething rage, arms dropping from where they’d been crossed over his chest to tense at his sides, fists tightly clenched. Echo’s gaze remained locked blindly on a monitor beside him, brows just drawn together in a haunting dance between hurt and anger. Wrecker – sweet Wrecker – listened with a careful focus, but what sadness touched those eyes seemed born only from worry, while Tech hadn’t been still for a full minute before letting his fingers dance atop his datapad as I spoke.

“There is something I don’t understand.” Hearing those words in Tech’s eloquent voice nearly ruined me, but I waited in silence for whatever distain or betrayal might proceed them, unable to hide the weariness from my eyes as I forced myself to meet his gaze – I owed them that much. “There’s no reference to any samaritan involvement during that mission, and your records don’t have any mention of an ankle injury.” I drew a slow breath before explaining.

“A Separatist squad was sent to check for survivors – for anyone they could take prisoner. If the 104th took them out, it would have revealed their position, but they couldn’t risk moving some of their men, so I went… I told the droids that I’d been shot down by a lone clone, but that he’d already died from injuries sustained during the battle – even showed them a body. I was able to convince them that there was no one else still alive and got them to transport me back for medical treatment. I was barely out of surgery when then 104th snuck me out – their general didn’t feel right leaving me there after what happened.” The careful emptiness of my voice was a testimony to my certainty that my fate was already sealed; that I continued speaking purely to grant them every shred of closure I could while still allowed the freedom to speak.

“The cybernetic is Separatist technology. It was General Koon’s idea to keep it out of official records – he figured it would be best to keep my origins secret if I wanted to keep helping the GAR.”

“So much for all that bantha osik about trust.” I’d been waiting for that distain; that anger so vainly layered overtop a hurt I felt just as viciously as he did, but, when Crosshair’s sneered words lingered in the silence between us, it still sent my heart writhing within my chest as tears clawed up my throat. When my gaze moved reluctantly to find him, he looked at me with such hatred, I couldn’t keep those tears from spilling down my cheeks, and he turned sharply away to vanish into the hall of the Marauder. Jaw ground against the way my breaths began to waver, I sat perfectly still, waiting for the others to take their turn.

“Where you ever going to tell us?” Echo… That sliver of control crumbled beneath the quiet betrayal in his softly spoken question, chin dropping to my chest, face contorting with a grief too consuming to fight back. Jaw wrenching open in a gasped sob, it felt like an eternity passed in those fleeting seconds I took to gather enough strength to answer him.

“I wanted to – Maker, everyday I wanted to… but I was so scared.” Knuckles gleaming from how tightly my figured burr into my knees, I just managed to glance up at him. “By the time I trusted you enough to feel like I could tell you… I… just the thought of-of losing…” My lips shifted around words I just couldn’t force into existence, eyes sliding shut as though I could hide from what might come next.

“But we trust Echo.” My shoulders sank at Wrecker’s innocent confusion. “We got him from the seppies. If you say you’re on our side, I don’t see why it matters which planet you were born on.” When I turned to see the honest confusion in those mismatched eyes; the concern pulling his brows into the beginnings of a frown, I hurt all the more for it – for the distance this might wedge between them if he couldn’t understand.

“I have already received a response from Commander Wolffe.” Tech chimed, and even his voice was heavy with the severity of the conversation. “He has confirmed what you’ve said.” I felt no relief from his words. It wasn’t a matter of if they believed me – all I cared about was if they could forgive me. He said nothing more for a long moment, but I could see his mind racing over everything I’d said. “I regret that you felt the need to hide this from us… but I understand your reasoning to do so.” He stated slowly, eyes carefully trained on mine. “I hope in the future, you won’t feel the need to keep such information secret.”

Like a string had been cut, the tension swept from my body in a sudden rush of shock, jaw going slack, eyes open wide as my shoulders slumped. I could feel my heart racing; felt the air staling in my lungs for fear that even the movement of releasing it might cause him to change his mind.

“Assuming you are comfortable remaining a part of this squad despite our now knowing this… secret.” He added, a sliver of doubt causing him to hesitate in the face of my response. My eyes darted first to Echo, then to Hunter and Wrecker. None of them offered any objection to his words. And I broke.

With a violent sob, I launched myself forward, arms darting around Tech’s neck as I finally let the epitome of my fear and guilt and desperate gratitude overwhelm me. He tensed, hands flaring open for the handful of seconds it took for him to understand what had happened, but I only hugged him harder and, touch hesitant at first, he let his hands just settle between my shoulder blades.

I didn’t need to look to know it was Hunter who moved next, reaching out to grasp my shoulder, then Echo’s hand swept gently up my neck. Emboldened slightly, Tech’s arms wrapped more firmly around me seconds before Wrecker lock us both in an embrace so tight, I felt the air rush from the pilot’s chest in a sharp huff and couldn’t help but find myself laughing silently amidst sobs of relief.

“Just give him some time – he’ll come back around.” I didn’t realize my gaze had wandered back toward the hall until Hunter’s gentle words murmured through the silence. Glancing briefly at him, I tried to let him see the breadth of my gratitude and love before turning back to hide myself against the reassurance of my squad’s embrace.

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