I Just Made An Appointment To Donate Blood So I Could Get Out Of Something (it’s Also A Goal Of Mine

Crosshair

how do i get the moon to notice me back

sergeant-hunter’s 1k celebration

> for @kriffclone​ ‘s request

make me choose:  Crosshair in tbb armor or Crosshair in imperial armor

I need explanation DAVE

Why Crosshair's voice sexy?

Why, Filoni? Why?

THE BAD BATCH SEASON 2 IS OUT IN 1 DAY!

Worried

A Bad Batch one shot

Summary: When y/n is injured, they try to hide the severity of it, causing the boys to panic when it’s worse than they realized.

Pairings: None. Implied attraction to Hunter because, well, he’s hot.

Warnings: SFW. major injury/nausea/passing out. Doctor Tech. Comforting Wrecker. Also Guilty Wrecker. Comforting Hunter. Sassy Crosshair. Concerned Hunter. You know—the necessities of a hurt/comfort oneshot.

Word count: 2.5k

Disclaimer: this was originally posted on my other account @thereforepizza

if there’s anything else y’all see that needs tagged, please lmk and I’ll gladly tag it here !

Consciousness stirred you awake with a hesitant hand. You groaned, setting both feet on the floor and rubbing your eyes. If there were ever a day you wished you might forget, yesterday was it, yet the memory came back to you in an instant. The darkness. A shuttering breath. One mistake after another.

You made your body move, though each sore, aching muscle protested. With an effort, you got to your feet. Your right leg gave out. Cool, metal floor boards slapped your hands. Your lips loosed a whimper. Shaky, you got up, and a hand found the far wall for balance.

You caught your breath, wincing.

The next attempt to stand on two feet left you grimacing, acid rising from your stomach. This nausea plagued you from the moment of your injury. When you had risen from your place under the stones, you had instantly lost the contents of your stomach. This struck the entire squad by surprise because you possessed a stomach of steel. They brought you back to the ship and you passed out the moment your head hit the pillow of the lowest bunk. It wasn't your bunk, you realized, but nobody cared. The last thing you remembered was seeing the look of concern in Tech's eyes your focus waned. Looking back, it takes a lot to get Tech frazzled, so something must have been wrong.

Something was very wrong.

As your mind raced, your heart begged to be with the batchers. Something in your soul could sense that you needed to get their attention. If not that, then at least be near them. Tech could fix you. Hunter could comfort your fears. Wrecker could distract you. Crosshair… well, he might not appear to care, but you knew he’d want to do something.

You tried to stand again without being as gentle. Perhaps the mundane ache would be drowned out if you experienced something sharp and quick. You pushed against the wall and tears blinded you. You found your footing. Caught your breath. Fighting the urge to cry out, you limped through the cabin of the Marauder.

Every step made you sicker. Your fists balled at your sides. The pain was masked by numbness and an ache that crept clear to your shoulders as you moved. Perhaps your reaction was dramatized… Pride donned the poker face you plastered on as you sauntered into the cockpit. A last second call said they didn't need to see you wimping out on them.

"That's precisely my interpretation of the data, Hunter. We will deplete our stock of supplies in..." Tech trailed off, squinting at your newly arrived form. You nodded a greeting and found a seat, uncomfortably aware of the four sets of eyes on you.

"Go on,"

Tech adjusted his goggles. “You should be resting.”

"I'm not wasting that much energy, am I?"

He frowned at you, then at his beloved data pad. "We will deplete our supplies in two weeks. It is time we return to Kamino to regroup and restock any items that are low in our inventory."

"How long has it been?" Hunter glanced at you.

"According to each solar—"

"A long time," you hummed. You leaned forward on your elbows in an attempt to distract your mind. "I estimate two and a half months."

Tech paused, gears grinding. “You are almost correct. Two months and nineteen days. How'd you know that?"

A shrug and tilt of your head. “Good internal clock."

"My internal clock says we've been gone for forever!" Wrecker leaned back in his chair and you swore you heard it creak. "I almost lost track a how many successful missions we've done. Don’t you worry, though. It’s twenty-nine.”

Your hand slipped to a fresh bruise on your forearm.

“If it hadn’t been for someone’s recklessness, we would have had thirty.”

Wrecker’s voice sounded strained. “Shut up, Crosshair. It was an accident!”

You stood atop a hut raining hell on the droids around you. The mission’s end was in sight. The town’s liberation close at hand.

“Sure.” Crosshair’s voice turned cool. “But accidents happen when you’re too reckless.”

Boom

Hunter hushed them. “That’s enough, Cross. Arguing about it won’t change what happened.”

Misfire from a destroyed cannon did its job. The surface dissolved under you. Your fall was brief. Wrecker lifted a wall from you only minutes later. When you stood, the world danced, and not in a pleasant way. You threatened to shoot Tech when he tried to look over you for injuries. You pushed away Wrecker’s attempts at apology—claiming he had nothing to do with it even if he was the catalyst. On your way back to the shuttle your mind replayed a single, wistful phrase: ‘I’m not hurt.’

"How you holding up?"

You looked at Hunter. His eyes bored into yours. The question was aimed at you.

He let out a deep breath. “Thought we’d lost you there for a minute."

Your frown traveled to take in each of the batchers. They shared the same expression: concern. It sent you curling up into your seat.

“I was thinking.”

"I do not wish to alarm you…” Tech hesitated and looked at Hunter.

"You look sick. Your face is pale." Crosshair leaned forward. His serious tone made your heart drop.

Wrecker sat up. “You good, y/n?”

Your trademark tough shell shifted. "Wh—what?"

"Are you okay?" Hunter got up and closed the distance between you. "Be honest. Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Sarge.”

The look in his eye spoke enough for you to admit defeat. Of course he would know. He could probably smell the blood.

"I believe it is necessary to examine you further.” Tech’s message was stately. You stood no chance arguing. "Crosshair, please take the controls.”

An extended hand grounded your scattered mind. You glanced up at Hunter. "Where we going?"

"To the back. Tech wants to check you."

"I uh… I heard that.” You hopped to your feet and everything went black.

You drew a sharp breath. The bunk above you shadowed your eyes. Head foggy, you took in the room. Hunter leaned against the wall, arms folded, scowl engrained in the skull adorning his face. Unmoving, he studied the floor.

You motioned to move and Hunter whispered. "Stay there, y/n."

He passed over to the bunk and pushed your feet back to the middle of the bunk before your mind caught up. The wealthy of Coruscant were more in tune with their surroundings than you. You bid your eyes close, and sleep greeted you again with far softer arms.

You awoke to the sound of two distant voices.

"She will need more rest, but we cannot wait to set it."

"Do you know how to do that?"

A beat. "I have read extensively on the topic. I have never needed to preform the operation, but I believe my knowledge is sufficient."

"Then do it. I reckon you'll need more local anesthetics?"

"No need. The supplies from this med-kit will work."

A sigh. Hunter’s voice softened. “Please don't get this wrong, Tech."

"They will be okay. Don't worry."

His gentle hand pushed your shoulder and you drew a breath, slowly coming from a sleep you didn’t know you’d fallen into. A frown mushed your face.

"Good morning, y/n.” Hunter hummed with a smile in his voice.

Your lips failed to formulate an intelligent reply, so you mumbled your similar return.

"Since we don’t have the right equipment, we need you to be awake so we can test these pain killers. Once we're sure they work, you can relax."

You nodded. "What is it?"

"You broke your... Tech, which bone is it?"

"The Tibia,"

"You broke your Tibia. Shin bone. We need to reset the bone so it doesn’t fuse wrong on the way back to Kamino."

"Do you feel this, y/n?"

A moment of confusion was followed by your looking down at Tech. He pressed on your exposed shin with a couple gloved fingers. The pressure didn't cause any reaction, but the sight of your wounded leg did. Fascinated, you wanted to touch it.

"No, no—lay back down." Hunter pushed you back onto the bed.

"Do you feel this?" You frowned down at Tech, wondering why he'd repeat his question when it struck you. His hand rested on another part of your leg. Satisfied, he turned to his datapad.

"I don't feel any of that. Is that bad?"

"Quite the opposite."

You caught Hunter’s shoulders relax. He turned to you and you met his eyes without a sound. A reassuring smile crossed his lips and you caught yourself thinking about just how handsome this man was. It took a moment to pull you back. Then you heard what he was saying to you.

"You can relax. We'll take it from here."

He didn't have to tell you twice. You were already embracing the darkness. A long time passed, you couldn't be sure how long. When you finally came to, you found yourself drifting away again. This became common until one time, you were able to hold onto a relative instance of consciousness. The dim room shifted as you sat up and scooted to lean your back against the wall.

This was not the Marauder.

Slow eyes scanned the disastrous room, hesitating on the fresh tally marks carved into the wall. They moved to the droid head on a table in the center of the space where Tech and Hunter sat. Eventually your gaze drifted to the pile of dirty blacks and then to the window that was pelted with large raindrops. You hadn't been on Kamino in a long time.

"Glad to see you awake.” Hunter greeted you, setting aside the armor he had been polishing.

"It hasn't been two weeks already, has it?" You noted that Crosshair and Wrecker were gone. "Tech said two weeks."

"It's been three days actually," he moved to lean over your... his bed. Resting his arm on the wall above the rather large alcove, he looked down at you. From there he went into the lame-man’s explanation of your surgery. It wouldn’t take long to heal, so the squad would head out in a few short rotations.

"The operation would have gone better if you were transparent about the extent of your injury." Tech had both elbows resting on the table and he looked up from the data pad in hand. He paused, eyes darting to the side. "On a… similar note: I should have recognized the symptoms immediately. Nausea and fatigue following a traumatic event are trademark symptoms of serious injury. I assumed that you were exhausted from the mission or perhaps angry at Wrecker. Had I been more thorough..."

"Hey.” You waited until his eyes met yours. "Don't blame anyone. We’re not gonna start that. I’m not upset at you for anything because it was out of your control. You were respecting my wishes to be left alone.”

A heavy sigh left his lips and he bobbed his head in agreement. "My apologies. When you fell in that building I knew it had to be worse than you let on."

Hunter frowned. "None of us realized how bad it was till you passed out in the cockpit."

Your chest grew heavy. "I'm sorry. I should've been more forthright."

"We forgive you. I want you to know that we care, y/n." You found Hunter's dark eyes. "Please tell us next time if you need help."

A beat followed before you nodded. "I will."

A minute later, the door hissed open and in came Wrecker shoving Crosshair. The sniper punched him in the gut and Wrecker grunted, swinging again. Cross dodged it easily. Hunter coughed pointedly. They both paused, staring your way. An enormous smile struck Wrecker and he clamored over to you like a little kid. Your entire body was buried in huge arms.

"How are you doing, y/n?" He held you at arms length and looked at you, brows stitched together. "I was worried sick!"

"I'm doing good, Wreck. I am pretty tired though." You stole a glance at Crosshair who stood near the door toothing a toothpick. "Apparently I have a good poker face.“

The sniper huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smile. You turned back to the large man who moved next to Hunter. His arms crossed and you caught a look come over him. His shoulders were a little more slouched than normal and after his initial reaction to seeing you, his brows furrowed at the ground.

“It’s come to my attention that there’s a bit of guilt going around you boys,” you said, trying not to directly aim your words at any of them. “But I want you to know that fretting over the past won’t make anything change. It won’t fix me. You know what will? Good vibes and a decent breakfast.”

Hunter smiled at them. “What do you say, boys? One of you wanna grab ‘em some grub?”

Wrecker whooped in approval and the others followed him to the door while Hunter stayed behind. He sat on the edge of the bed.

"You not going to eat?"

He shook his head. "I ate before they got up."

You hummed.

Steady raindrops filled the silence that ensued. The empty look in Hunter's eyes drew your observance. He stared at nothing, all the while looking at the galaxy. Those were the eyes of a burdened leader. You wondered if he knew he did this from time to time.

"Are you okay?"

The light reignited in his eyes and he turned his focus to you. "I will be,"

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow. “What's up?"

He hesitated, eyeing the floor. "Just... when you passed out? I haven't lost any of my brothers in this squad. For a second, I thought I was going to lose you. I've never really let myself think about that before."

The expression on his face when you had woken a few days ago spoke a novel when paired with those words. Every mission that went well grew confidence in the boys. You saw this consistently. That confidence probably shattered the moment they realized one of them could get hurt. Did all of them feel the same fear?

That image made your heart race. You imagined their reaction when you failed to hide your pain. The thought of their worry plagued you. It was... mortifying.

"But you made it," he whispered. “And you're alright."

"I am,"

It took half an hour for the others to return. When they did, you found yourself watching them in a new light. Truly, these boys were different. You knew you'd be in good hands while you recovered from this inconvenient injury. The best part was that you'd have four... well, three really caring clones to keep your spirits up as you did so.

//~//~//

Thanks for reading!

Please reblog and comment to show support! At the end of these one shots I like to have a question to boost interactions—feel free to respond!

Q. Have you ever broken a bone? If so, would you be interested in sharing the story?

A. Nope! I've been close a time or two, but I have yet to break any bones

Did this hellsite just call me weird tf?

Tees, totes, and other good things.

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Hear me loud and hear me clear he is always perfect 🥰

Crosshair is perfect here! 🥰

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