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just-here-with-my-thoughts · 4 months

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A Cosy Bed: A Stardust Conspiracy Fanfic

A Bad Batch Fanfic ~4575 words Click here to read on AO3 Content: Space Hamsters, Snowball Fights, Brotherly Fluff, Crosshair to the rescue The Batch have grown very attached to their newest and smallest member; Omega's pet hamster. But escapology isn't the criceto's only skill... Can Omega keep her brothers from finding out what Stardust has done this time - and can she undo the damage caused?

With thanks to @kybercrystals94 for giving me your blessing to write a story with your character Stardust! If you haven't read kyber's fun fic about the chaos that ensues when the Batch get a pet hamster yet, you should go check it out Here. It's been so much fun swopping stories about our real-life hamster woes and turning them into fanfics!

“Omega, the planet we are landing on has a very frigid climate. The ambient temperature inside the Marauder is likely to drop, which may trigger a hibernation response in the criceto species. Make sure that Stardust has plenty of insulating bedding materials available, as she is likely to want additional warmth in her nest.”

“Sure thing, Tech,” chirped Omega, poking a finger into the cage to wave at Stardust. The criceto blinked sleepily as she waddled from her nest to the food bowl, checking for uneaten seeds.

Wrecker had lifted Stardust’s cage up into the gunner’s mount so that Omega could play with the criceto in her ‘bedroom’ whilst the others planned for the mission planet-side. Omega bounced Lula on her knees, making the stuffed tooka toy wave at Stardust too.

“You’ll keep an eye on Stardust whilst we’re gone, won’t you Lula?” Omega chatted to herself. “Don’t worry, Stardust,” and she tipped a whole mountain of additional seeds into the bowl right before the stunned criceto’s nose, “I’ll make sure you have plenty of food and water, and we won’t even be gone that long!”

The criceto scrubbed her little paws over her whiskers, then started stuffing her cheek pouches full of the new bounty which had appeared before her.

There was a gentle tremor as the Marauder settled on the ground. Omega looked up as Echo entered the bunk area with a groan.

“There’s snow everywhere,” the cyborg clone lamented to no-one in particular. “My joints are going to freeze.”

“There’s snow?” Omega exclaimed. In a flash she was bouncing in front of Echo, hands clasped before her in excitement. “Real snow, Echo? I’ve never seen real snow! Can I go outside? Can I see it now?”

“Not until you wrap up warm.” That was Hunter, smiling as he followed Echo to the bunks. He shed his scarf, draping the striped material over Omega’s shoulders and wrapping it round and round until it smothered her up to her nose. Omega giggled. “Nearly done,” said Hunter, reaching into an overhead locker and pulling out a box of cold-weather gear. He dug around until he found a thick pair of gloves, far too big for Omega’s hands but he popped them on her anyway, then swaddled her further in a thick coat with a fur-trimmed hood.

“Now can I go out?” asked Omega, her voice muffled behind the layers of fabric.

“Sure thing, kid,” Hunter grinned, and Omega skipped off happily.

“Are you going to wrap me up like that?” asked Echo, earning a snort of laughter from Hunter.

“Not a chance,” he teased as he retrieved his own thick coat from the crate. Wrecker appeared and started pulling on hat and gloves too.

Lula slumped, forgotten, against the side of Stardust’s cage.

The mission was unexpectedly easy; no-one else was here to challenge them about retrieving the cache. Because no-one else was mad enough to be out in this cold, was Echo’s frequently-voiced opinion. And whilst Hunter groused about their preparations going to waste, he was smiling inside his furred hood – they were all glad of an easy win for once.

Dragging the cache back to the ship on the makeshift sled shouldn’t have taken long, except Wrecker kept dropping the cable to gather up handfuls of snow to throw at his brothers. He was kind enough to leave Echo alone – the reg was struggling with the cold and his cybernetic implants – but Tech’s indignant squark when the icy mush slithered down the back of his neck and beneath his armour only spurred Wrecker to greater mischief. Before long he, Tech and Hunter were engaged in full-blown snowball warfare.

Omega, hiding behind the sled, was in helpless giggles. Whenever she got the chance she popped up the hurl another snowball into the fray. Wrecker eventually wised to her ambushes and tackled her into the snow, then let her ride on his shoulders the rest of the way back.

Back at the Marauder everyone was stamping feet and rubbing hands to try and warm them whilst they clamoured over each other with plans for the evening. Echo grumbled at having his prosthetics checked, saying the Marauder was so cold he’d rather run the risk of frostbite to his stumps than strip off and inspect them. Tech forced him to anyway, and Omega piled every blanket on the ship onto Echo’s shoulders as he sat and shivered whilst his thighs were examined. Then she ran to the galley and clambered up to retrieve Wrecker’s stash of chocolate powder, mixing watery hot chocolate drinks for everyone.

Tech had the Marauder in the air and the cabin was finally warming with the roar of the engines before Omega remembered Stardust. She left Hunter, Wrecker and Tech in the cockpit, darting past Echo on his bunk to climb into her gunner’s nest and peek into the criceto cage.

Her distressed squeak immediately summoned Echo.

“What’s wrong, Omega?” he asked, peering up with concern.

Omega stared at Stardust’s cage with both hands clamped over her mouth, eyes wide with panic. Slowly she turned to fix Echo with a wretched look, pointing a trembling finger at the corner where the criceto nested.

“Stardust isn’t dead,” Echo reassured her quickly, a flash of worry in his own eyes. “If she’s not moving it’ll be because she’s in a deep sleep, hibernating, just like Tech said!”

But he had misinterpreted Omega’s alarm.

“It’s Lula,” Omega whispered, voice cracking from behind her fingers.

Lula was still leant up against the side of the hamster cage. Echo climbed another step up the ladder to look more closely, first at the lopsided toy, then at the shreds of red fabric surrounding the sleeping criceto. The nest made warm and fluffy with toy stuffing…

“Stardust ate Lula’s ear!” Omega’s voice was a frightened whisper. “I forgot to put extra bedding in there, and she chewed up Lula’s ear and Wrecker is going to kill me…”

“Hey, hey,” soothed Echo, boosting himself the rest of the way into the gunner’s mount and curling his left arm round Omega’s shoulders. He reached past her with his scomp, nudging Lula away from the cage, inspecting the damage.

“She’s ruined,” said Omega, voice breaking on a sob. Echo squeezed her tightly.

“No she’s not,” he reassured her, pulling the tattered toy into Omega’s lap. “Look, it’s not that bad really. I’m sure we can repair the damage, and Lula will look good as new.”

“I don’t know how,” his little sister wailed.

“Leave it to me,” Echo told her with a smile.

Omega’s cry had alerted Tech, who now appeared at the ladder to her small room.

“What is the matter?” the engineer asked, sticking his head into the now-crowded gunner’s mount. “Is Stardust well?”

Echo quickly moved Lula out of sight. “Stardust is fine,” he said to save Omega from answering. “Omega was just startled by… uh… how still she looked. In hibernation, just like you said.”

“Ah.” Tech nodded sagely. “Never fear, Omega. Once the ambient temperature starts to increase, Stardust will naturally awaken from her slumber.” He peered at the girl’s worried face and adjusted his goggles. “Would you like me to check on her, just in case?”

“No!” said Omega, far too quickly and a little too loudly. Her cheeks flushed guiltily. “No, it’s fine Tech,” she managed in a more normal tone. “Echo made me feel lots better about it.”

“Very well.” Tech climbed back down, flashing Omega one of his rare smiles. “If you do require any further information about the habits of the criceto, I am more than happy for us to work on our joint research project together.”

“C’mon, we should head down too,” Echo said, nudging Omega towards the ladder. He paused, then grabbed Omega’s blanket and threw it over the cage. “For extra warmth,” he told her. “Certainly not to hide anything.” He gave her a sympathetic smile, and tucked Lula’s mutilated body under the blanket and out of sight.

“How are we going to fix her, Echo?” Omega asked as she descended. Her brown eyes shone as she gazed up at him, desperation written on her young face.

“Don’t worry,” he smiled. “I’m going to make a call. You should help Hunter prep evening meal. You know he doesn’t like you skipping out on your chores to play with Stardust.”

Wondering what Echo had planned, Omega moped off to find Hunter. She was withdrawn as she helped with dinner, prompting him to ask what was up.

“Come on, ‘Mega,” he said with a gruff smile, knocking his shoulder gently into hers. “You can tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said, feeling the cold weight of guilt settle in her stomach. “I’m just…”

“Worried about Stardust?” asked Hunter kindly. “Tech told me she’s hibernating. You don’t need to worry, kid. Your little criceto will be just fine, and she’ll wake back up before you know it.”

“Yeah,” said Omega morosely, fretting about how she was piling lies on top of lies to hide her mistake.

The boys were in high spirits during the meal, celebrating the mission gone off without a hitch, but Omega poked at her food without appetite. She was so subdued that after dinner Tech insisted on taking her temperature in case she had come down with a cold after playing in the snow, and Hunter was the picture of concern hovering over Tech’s shoulder asking about the results.

“I’m fine,” Omega insisted, cheeks going pink from the embarrassment of her deceit rather than a temperature. She glanced at Echo for support.

Echo picked up on the cue perfectly. “I expect Omega is tired out from all the fun we had today,” he said. “She should probably have an early night.

“Awright then kid, time for bed,” said Wrecker cheerily, scooping Omega up in a bone-crushing hug as he did every night. He lifted her easily into her bedroom in the gunner’s mount, flicking the switch to turn the fairy lights on. “Want a story?”

“Not tonight, Wrecker,” said Omega, burrowing into the blankets and trying to hide. “I’m really tired.”

“Fair ‘nuff,” grinned Wrecker. “I’m tired too, from playin’ in the snow! I’ll jus’ say goodnight to you an’ Lula.” And he waited expectantly for Omega to present the toy, as she always did, for a goodnight hug of her own.

“You can’t!” yelped Omega in alarm. “I mean, uh…” She sat back up a little, trying to school her face into a reassuring smile. “Lula is hibernating,” she lied. “Just like Stardust. You shouldn’t disturb her.”

“Ohh!” Wrecker gave her an exaggerated wink. “I get it!” He reached out and ruffled her hair. “Alright kid, sleep tight. I’ll see Lula when she wakes up from hibernation!”

Omega pulled the blanket over her head and wished she could hibernate, and not wake up until this nightmare was over.

They were due to dock at a small spaceport to resupply before their next mission. Echo reassured Omega that someone would be there to help with their problem, but Omega remained concerned.

“What if he doesn’t come?”

Echo smiled down at her gently. “He will, Omega. He’ll always come, if it’s you.”

Omega nodded, only partially convinced. It was hardly an emergency, but if Echo said he was coming, she wanted to believe him.

They docked the Marauder without challenge, Hunter assigning them instructions for a speedy resupply. Together, the five of them descended the ramp to the spaceport.

There was no mistaking the mercenary waiting by the one-man fighter on the other side of the docking bay. He was lean, armoured in deep red with grey accents – the mirror of how they were used to seeing him. A familiar skull decal adorned his shoulder pauldron, and a sniper rifle rested casually across his shoulder.

“Crosshair!” squealed Omega, breaking away from her brothers to run and meet him. The tall clone caught her in a one-armed hug, the other hand tightly gripping his rifle.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted, although he kept his gaze trained on his approaching brothers. A patch covered the empty socket of his right eye, a centrepiece for his fine-line tattoo; an injury earned during their escape from Mount Tantiss, when he had rescued Omega from Dr. Hemlock. A fair price for their freedom, he thought, not that he would ever tell Hunter that. He had let his hair grow back in around the scarring above his ear, steel-grey locks just starting to curl atop his head.

“Crosshair!” cried Wrecker, looking for all the world like he too wanted to run at his brother for a hug, just as Omega had. He held himself back, settling for a friendly punch to the shoulder. “Haven’t seen you in ages! How’s it goin’?”

“You are looking well,” said Tech with a nod which Crosshair returned.

They weren’t all so happy to see their estranged batchmate. “What are you doing here?” asked Hunter, a little too sharply.

Crosshair stiffened, biting down hard on his toothpick. “Two mercenary groups can’t be at the same spaceport at the same time?” he sneered, glaring at his brother.

“I guess they can.” Hunter narrowed his eyes suspiciously but let it go.

“Good to see you Crosshair,” said Echo, stepping past Hunter. The Imperial-sniper-turned-mercenary reached out and tapped vambraces with Echo as the cyborg came to stand on Omega’s other side. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“You’re casually extending dinner invitations now?” asked Hunter caustically. Echo ignored him, but Crosshair didn’t.

“I know when I’m not wanted,” he said bitterly. “Don’t trouble yourself on my behalf.”

Then he glanced to where Omega was tucked under his arm, looking up at him with a glaze of tears in her eyes.

“On second thoughts,” he said, fingers tightening on her shoulder, “I suppose dinner might be nice.”

Omega jumped to lock her arms around his neck in a tight hug, dangling from his tall frame. “Thank you, Crosshair,” she whispered, and was sure she felt him smile against her cheek.

The Marauder’s tiny galley was crowded with six, but the warmth of jovial conversation kept anyone from feeling too cramped. Omega was crammed onto the bench between Hunter and Tech, the latter engaged in animated descriptions of their recent adventures to Crosshair, who sat on a storage crate pulled up to the end of the table.

Crosshair was smiling, thin lips pressed together in a smirk as he listened to his brothers. Wrecker was an enthusiastic assistant storyteller, gesturing broadly from his position leaned against the wall across from the small table. There wasn’t space to seat all of them, so Wrecker had volunteered to stand.

Echo perched on the end of the bench between Tech and Crosshair, nodding along to the stories but casting the occasional glance between Hunter and Cross. He had made sure they were seated at the opposite ends of the table, hoping the distance would be enough to avert an argument. Hunter’s less than enthusiastic response to Crosshair’s presence was affecting Omega as well; every time she laughed at one of Crosshair’s retorts she quickly glanced up at the long-haired Sergeant, gauging his reaction. For Crosshair’s part, he pointedly ignored Hunter, and Echo supposed that was the best he could hope for.

When Crosshair disappeared outside, seeking respite from the noise and the scrutiny of his brothers, Hunter silently slipped from his seat to follow him.

The sniper hadn’t gone far, stopped under the wing of the Marauder as he tipped a toothpick from its pack and placed it between his teeth. He leaned against the ship with his head tilted back, breathing out a sigh as his face dropped into a worried frown.

Hunter didn’t try and disguise his approach, taking up position beside Crosshair with shoulders hunched and tense. He glanced up, still not used to seeing his older brother with a patch covering his eye instead of the hard but familiar glare that was usually framed by the crosshair tattoo.

When he spoke he couldn’t control the challenge in his voice.

“Why are you really here, Crosshair? It’s not a coincidence.”

Crosshair chewed for a moment on his toothpick. Then, “Echo called. Said the kid needed me,” he said truthfully.

Hunter bristled. “What does she need you for that one of us can’t help with?” he asked, an edge of hurt roughening his words.

“Getting out of Tantiss, for one,” hissed Crosshair, rounding on his smaller brother. For a moment they locked gazes, glowering, before Crosshair turned away. “Think what you want. I don’t care.”

Hunter took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I’m sorry, Crosshair,” he said quietly, facing out across the landing bay instead of looking at his brother. “I’m grateful for what you did. Bringing Omega back to us.”

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

For a while silence stretched between them, strained. Hunter crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his chin down in thought.

“How’s the aim?” he asked at last.

Crosshair merely grunted.

Hunter could sense the tension radiating from him even without his enhancements. He didn’t need to be told how losing an eye affected Crosshair’s depth perception – what that meant for a sniper.

“It’s… getting better,” Crosshair admitted at last. “The biggest problem is the muscle memory. I keep bringing my rifle up to…”

He trailed off.

Hunter gently knocked his shoulder against his brother’s. “You’ll get it back. It’ll take time to train to use your off-side.”

Crosshair rounded on him with a snarl, but seeing the genuine concern in Hunter’s face he softened. “Yeah,” he agreed, leaning back against the Marauder. He flicked his toothpick away, then almost immediately brought out a fresh one.

“So,” said Hunter after a moment. “What does Omega need you for?”

“Perhaps if you’d leave me alone for five minutes she’d come and tell me,” said Crosshair with a humourless smile. He tilted his head a little, glancing down at his brother. “You know, there’s going to be things she doesn’t want you to know. It’s good she has someone else to turn to.”

Hunter’s mouth turned down. “Why wouldn’t Omega come to me with a problem?” he asked.

“Because she cares what you think of her,” Crosshair told him. “She doesn’t want you to see her making mistakes.” Then, barely audible, “I know how that feels.”

“If she’s in trouble I want to be there for her.”

For a moment Crosshair stiffened, and he bit hard onto his toothpick. Hunter grimaced, tattooed face contorting with guilt.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said quietly, voice raw.

Crosshair resumed chewing on his toothpick. Eventually he sighed.

“Forget it.”

His words were twisted with bitterness and worse – resignation.

Hunter took a shaky breath. “Are we ever going to be good again, Crosshair?”

“You and me?” Crosshair’s gaze was distant, unfocused. He shook his head. “No.”

Beside him, Hunter tensed.

“But I owe the kid. If she needs me, you can call. It doesn’t have to be Echo.”

Hunter nodded, jaw clenched tightly.

Crosshair turned to him, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. His one eye narrowed, then softened. Reaching out, he ruffled Hunter’s hair, ignoring his younger brother’s half-hearted snarl of protest at the treatment.

“Come on, vod’ika. Let’s go back inside. I can play nice for one night, for Omega.”

“You called me out here for this?” Crosshair hissed, rolling his eyes at Echo. He turned the stuffed toy over in his hands, inspecting the damage.

“You’re the best at this kind of job,” Echo said defensively, arms crossed over his chest. “Your stitching has always been the neatest out of all of us.”

“You could have had Tech do this,” muttered Crosshair, but stopped when he saw Omega’s worried face. He gave a sigh, pinching his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I’ll repair the dumb toy.”

Omega threw her arms round his neck once more, burying her face in his shoulder. “You’re the best, Crosshair.”

“Get off me,” he said without heat, gently prising the girl away from him. “Alright, do you have what I need?”

“I found needle and thread in the medical kit,” said Echo, indicating where they were.

“And the missing ear?”

“Chewed to pieces in the criceto nest, I’m afraid.”

Crosshair paused half-way through threading the needle. “What?” he asked, surprise smoothing some of the careworn lines from his face. “You got a criceto?”

“She’s called Stardust,” said Omega in a small voice.

Crosshair looked between them and gave a grunt of amusement. “Hunter really is getting soft.” He ruffled Omega’s hair gently, just like he had with Hunter. “Alright kid, so your pet chewed Lula and there’s no ear left for me to sew back on. Where can we get some red fabric to make a new one?”

Echo coughed. Crosshair glanced at him, then a wicked grin spread on his face.

“Got it.”

Omega padded softly past her sleeping brothers in their bunks and let herself into the cockpit. A silver-haired head faced away from her; Crosshair, sitting alone in the pilot’s chair. He didn’t turn, or give any indication that he registered her presence.

Closing the door behind her, she approached Crosshair and stood silently by his side. The sniper held a narrow tube of red fabric in his hands, running precise stitches down the seam.

Crosshair paused, flicking his gaze to her, and subtly shifted his position. Omega took the cue and crawled into his lap.

“If Wrecker doesn’t kill me, then Hunter definitely will,” she lamented, tucking into Crosshair’s side and resting her head on his shoulder.

A vibration of a supressed chuckle spread through him. “Most certainly,” he agreed in his driest voice, looping his arms round her loosely so he could continue sewing. “You’re done for. The best you can hope for is a swift death.”

Omega pouted. “You’re not helping,” she complained, and Crosshair jostled her gently.

“Do you want me to fix this or not?”

“Yes,” she said meekly. “Please.”

They settled into silence, Crosshair’s hands moving swiftly as he pulled thread through the new ear he was making. Omega retrieved Lula from the Marauder’s console and dug her fingers into the hole in the toy’s head, stirring the stuffing inside.

“What if they’re so mad they don’t want me around any more?” she asked in a small voice. “What if they banish me from the Batch?”

Crosshair gave a derisive snort, his breath stirring the girl’s hair. “You can come live with me,” he said, eyes never leaving his task.

“Do you mean that?”

“Sure.” A faint smile curled the corners of his mouth, his usual sarcasm absent. “I’ll get a bigger ship. A two-man fighter.”

Omega snuggled her face into his chest, wrapping one arm around his waist. “Can Stardust come too?”

“I don’t know about that. She sounds like trouble.”

Omega giggled despite herself. “Yeah. She can be,” she said, remembering Hunter’s red-cheeked embarrassment the first time Stardust had escaped and he hadn’t been able to track her. At least Tech had tamed the little criceto with bribes of treats since then.

Turning the fabric tube to hide the seam inside, Crosshair stuffed it with spare criceto bedding and took Lula from Omega’s hands, starting to attach the new ear. Omega watched sleepily, boneless and relaxed against her brother. Before long she started to doze.

Omega was vaguely aware of strong arms wrapping round her and lifting her up, of being cradled against a chest and carried, of being laid into bed and the blanket pulled up over her. A soft-bodied form was tucked in beside her.

She mumbled sleepily, not awake enough to form words. A hand rested on her head, long fingers stroking through her hair. Omega squeezed Lula tightly and burrowed into the blankets, giving a soft, contented sigh as she drifted back to sleep.

“Where’s my bandana?” Hunter muttered, still half-asleep and rubbing his face as he pulled back the blankets on his bunk. He ran his hand through his unruly hair, strands curling into his eyes now they weren’t tamed by his usual headgear.

“It must be around somewhere,” Tech told him, heading for the cockpit. Crosshair was gone and they were preparing to depart themselves.

“Wrecker,” called Omega from her bedroom, her voice shaking just a little. “Can you come over here?”

The big clone lumbered up the gangway to the gunner’s mount. “What’s up, kid?” he asked with a grin, resting his forearms on the floor of her small room.

Omega shifted uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes. “I want to tell you something,” she said, then rested her small hand over his large one. She looked at him at last, mouth downturned in an unhappy line. “I had an accident with Lula.”

Wrecker chuckled. “Whatcha do, spill somethin’ on her? Tech’s always tellin’ me to be more careful about that. Don’t worry, whatever it is usually washes right out!”

“No, it’s not that.” Omega sniffed, trying to hold back tears and keep her voice from wobbling. “I b-b-broke her. But Echo called Crosshair and Crosshair fixed her and-”

She pulled the tooka toy out from under her pillow.

“I hope it’s okay.”

Wrecker withdrew his hand from Omega’s and took hold of Lula, cradling her delicately as he stroked his fingertips over her right ear. It was now red all the way to the base, and where the new ear joined the toy’s head, there was a small bow with a familiar skull at the centre.

“Omega! I love it!”

Omega jerked her head up from where she had been looking miserable.

“You do?”

“Ha hah!” Wrecker grabbed her in one arm, dragging her to the edge of the gunner’s mount so he could hug her and Lula together. “It’s adorable! I’d never have thought to make a BOW for Lula to wear!”

Smooshing the plush tooka into his face, Wrecker kissed the beloved toy between her ears. “You look great, Lula,” he told the toy, beaming from ear to ear. “I’m sorry I never made you anythin’ pretty to wear before now!” He turned his grin on Omega, laughing. “Is this why you said she was hibernatin’? Tryin’ to keep it a surprise ‘til it was ready?”

“Uh… yeah,” said Omega lamely, stunned in the face of Wrecker’s excitement. “So you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? You had me worried when you said you broke her, but she looks just fine to me!” And with that Wrecker sauntered off happily, Lula tucked under his arm.

Echo appeared in the space Wrecker had vacated. He was wearing a knowing smile.

“I think we got away with that, don’t you?” he asked casually.

Omega nodded fervently. Somehow Wrecker hadn’t noticed the difference between Lula’s original ear and the new one.

“Maybe next time, keep Lula a bit further away from Stardust’s cage,” Echo smiled wryly. “Cheer up, kid. It all worked out in the end.”

At last Omega found her smile again. “Yeah. You’re right, Echo.” She reached over and petted the edge of the cage fondly. “And next time we go somewhere cold, I’m going to make sure Stardust has as much bedding as she needs!”

Hunter’s voice floated down the ship; Omega and Echo shared a guilty grin.

“Has anyone seen my bandana?”

Much like @kybercrystals94 original Stardust fic this is based off of a true life story. In that it was Lucky Rabbit who bore the brunt of hamster-based attentions to an ear, and my mum painstakingly retrieved chewed bits of fluff from the hamster cage and sewed him back together for me. I was about eight :)

#the stardust conspiracy #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #space hamster #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb omega #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb lula #tbb crosshair #tbb stardust #brotherly fluff and shenanigans

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