The Bad Batch on their night to cook:
HUNTER: he’s a breakfast for dinner kind of guy. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, orange juice. He does his best to keep the kitchen mess contained, but somehow pancake batter always ends up splattered on the counter and one thing or other ends up just a little bit burned.
WRECKER: he has a “follow your heart” philosophy when it comes to cooking, which means lots of experimentation with spices and cooking times that has varying levels of success. What he really excels at is grilling. The kitchen is always a disaster when he’s done with it (which drives Crosshair up the wall, but Wrecker is the only one who can make steak exactly the way he likes it, so he never complains).
CROSSHAIR: the exact opposite of Wrecker’s philosophy—he follows the recipe incredibly exactly, with no variation, and he keeps a very close eye on everything while it cooks. Incredibly slow and methodical about it all, plus he cleans and washes up while he cooks, which means it takes him 5x longer to make dinner than the others. It drives them crazy, but it also means his food is the most consistent in terms of quality.
TECH: he also likes to experiment—not quite like Wrecker, but he’s always looking up new recipes and delicacies from the planets they’ve visited to try. He’s usually more invested in authenticity than in what his brothers will actually LIKE, which means he’s served them some of the strangest, goopiest, spiciest, unusual foods they’ve ever eaten for the sake of experience.
ECHO: he doesn’t have time to mess around in the kitchen—he’ll pop a frozen pizza in the oven or reheat some leftovers. But he makes up for it by always being the one to help out with clean up, and always cheerfully putting up with the others’ sometimes questionable cooking (let’s be honest, he probably had worse in the 501st).
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Ough have a draft!!!!!!
"Tech?"
However soft the figure in the doorway of the cockpit intended to be, the murmured announcement of company still startled Tech.
It didn't startle him into moving much, just enough for his hands to clasp at his blaster holsters, frozen in place as he snapped straight with alarm.
When the figure did not push further, and when Tech's heartbeat slowed from its erratic thump, he answered. "What is it?"
His voice sounded painfully hoarse, still, to his own ears. He doesn't see so much as hear the creak in armour as whoever stands in the doorway winces.
"Jus'... wonderin' when you were gonna get up. Your shifts over."
Ah, now with the haze of a quick adrenaline rush faded, Tech can hear the brash tone of Wrecker's voice more clearly. He doesn't move, still, seemingly rooted to the spot, wound tight.
"I will take the next shift," He mumbled in an attempt to stop his brother from pushing the subject of moving. Tech did not trust his aching knees to hold him. "You may return to your bunk, Wrecker."
"You told Echo the same thing." Tech winced at the sound of his brother's armour- wondering only briefly why he hadn't taken it off- as he folded his arms. "And Hunter before that. You gotta get some sleep, Techie. S'been a long few days,"
Doesn't Tech know? His throat still ached, neck bruised to the stars and back, yet he couldn't bring himself to pause for even a moment to recognise the need to examine it further.
It had been a few days, the pain should not still be lingering, pulsing as painfully as it did.
Yet it did. The phantom touch of a hand clasping his throat was enough to jolt Tech from whatever comfortable doze he had fitfully settled into.
It was over, the chips were gone. There was no reason to feel so afraid of his brother. Of anything. Yet the whole event left Tech scrambled and shaken.
Wrecker was not the person he wanted to bring this up to. Not when his guilt was still palpable, bleeding into his tone and eyes as he watched Tech's too still form on the worn pilots chair.
Clearing his throat stung, but it was all Tech could think to do. "I will be fine," He remained firm. "Thank you for your concern, but it is–" His throat scratched, and he needed a moment to finish his thought.
Swallowing worsened the pain, and Tech felt panic grip him as he struggled silently behind the chair. He felt vaguely aware of footsteps approaching, and heard the squeak of the chair as he was turned.
"Tech–?" Wrecker's voice was close- too close, his hand approaching, gearing towards his face, towards his—
Tech wasn't sure why he had reacted so poorly. He smacked Wrecker's hand away from him with a choked shout, a plea for space- and his throat closed all over again.
He was sure that someone was knelt in front of him, trying to coax each shuttered breath from him like he was Omega after Pantora. He was also sure that such methods were not working.
His vision was spotty, greying and swirling as he fought to breathe- he didn't understand, Tech wasn't afraid. His brother was right there, they were on the Marauder. Why would he be afraid?
He was distantly aware of Wrecker's voice shouting for help.
Help with what, Tech never knew, because whatever fight he had been having with consciousness had been lost, and the last thing he was aware of was Wrecker's fear filled face as he pitched forward.
Wrecker knew he wouldn't ever forget the face Tech had made, jaw going slack and eyes rolling as he collapsed forward. He met his little brother halfway, his pleas for Tech to breath falling short as he seemed to lose the will to stay upright.
Hunter rushed in, hurriedly shooting questions at him as he supported Tech's limp figure against his shoulder.
Wrecker can't explain what happened- one moment, Tech was there, whole. The next, he was gone, gasping and struggling around a painful cough.
Echo appeared, crouched down close and scanning Tech with their medscanner. All Wrecker can do it hold his little brother tighter as his breathing stuttered and wheezed.
He heard the word "neck" and felt himself get lost to the panic, too. They need to move him, secure him as they check him. Wrecker's hands shook as Hunter practically ripped Tech's blacks to get to his neck faster.
Oh, it made Wrecker ill. Big, blotched bruises litter his little brother's throat. Wrecker's handprint has faded only just, etched into Tech's skin like a tattoo. It's ugly, it looks painful. It's all Wrecker's fault.
Hunter snapped something about a medical station. About finding help. Echo seemed to be at a loss, but they searched relentlessly anyway.
Wrecker stood beside his brother's cot, secure in his solitude, and wept.
He wasn't sure when he had found the strength- or the nerve, to shed his armour and crawl into the bunk beside Tech. His arms encased him, pressing as close as he could, whispering broken apologies into Tech's curly hair.
Nothing would ever make up for this, he decided suddenly. He had ruined it all- he might as well turn himself over to Crosshair.
Oh, Crosshair. Another reason for Wrecker's tears to worsen and fall. If Crosshair could see them now, would he ever forgive Wrecker? He didn't want him to, knew he would face his disgust but would rather a blaster to the shebs—
"'Ker?" Tech's voice is quiet, his single spoken word slurred.
Wrecker's heart lept to his throat. "Techie?" He gasped back, sniffling.
Tech's movements slow, missing their usual calculated air as he fumbled in the cot. "S'cold," He mumbled, pressing closer to his older brother. The action makes Wrecker's heart stutter and shoulders tense.
He can't help but think this is some sort of hallucination. That is, until Tech blinked up at him, hooded eyes watching him, without a hint of their normal intelligence.
Wrecker froze when his little brother reached up, dazed hands wiping at the tears that had fallen. "Okay?" Tech's voice was confused, sleep-heavy and weaker than normal.
The brawler nearly sobbed anew, instead he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of Tech's head. "Yeah- m'okay," He sniffed, pulling the blankets higher. "Go back to sleep, Techie, I've got you. You're okay."
He didnt need to try very hard to convince him. "Okay," Tech mumbled contently, burrowing further into his brother as he readied himself to slip back off to sleep. "Love you."
He dropped off again in seconds, and while Wrecker chest felt lighter, it didn't ease all the pain. He pressed another light kiss to his brother's hair. "Love you too, Techie," He whispered. "Don't you forget it."
He stayed, holding his brother until they found help. He held on tight long after.
Wrecker and Tech post-Bracca my beloved. Might write a sequel
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