Star Wars, Nothing But Star Wars!

Human Nature

(The Bad Batch)
Tech snores lightly. It's 3:30 am, and he passed out in his favorite comfy chair about five minutes ago after pulling like four all-nighters. His glasses are still held tightly to his face, and he's still holding onto his phone, clutching it close to his chest like a child would a stuffed animal. The lights in his room are still on, and he's just wearing his normal clothes. Still, he's out. None of that seems to be bothering him at all.
That...doesn't look comfortable...
Omega drags her feet against the ground tiredly, dragging her comforter along with her. She's noticed all the all-nighters Tech has been pulling (he isn't as good at hiding the fact that he's tired as he seems to think he is), and she's worried about her sweet, stubborn, genius brother.
And it's not like the bad dream that she just woke up from makes her feel any more at ease.
She turns off the lights, her eyes readjusting to the darkness quickly. Gently, so as not to wake him up, she removes his glasses and places them on his desk. She climbs up next to him in the comfy chair, slightly grateful that she gets a chance to cuddle with her older brother. Sure, she's 12, and it's kinda childish, but affection is affection, and Omega really enjoys it. She throws the blanket over his shoulders and closes her eyes, hoping for a good dream.

(Time skip! Few hours later...)

Tech's eyes snap open, although he squints a second after, unaccustomed to the bright light of morning. He feels...refreshed. Awake. Not tired at all.
Huh...must've fallen asleep...
Noticing that his glasses aren't on his face, he tries to grab them, but he can't. A weight seems to be holding his arms and chest down. Blinking, he manages to see why: Omega, curled up in a ball, is on top of him, and she's sound asleep. He smiles without really understanding why.
...that explains the weight.
If it were anyone else, he would've jumped. But since it's his sister, he's more gentle and understanding.
I don't really understand it, but...she likes doing this, for some reason. But...I can't move.
Hunter walks in at that moment, a bit worried. His sleep-rustled hair is tied back with his usual bandana.
"Oh, there's Omega..."
Tech tenses, uncomfortable. His muscles are twitching, desperate to move.
"Good morning, Hunter."
"Morning."
"Um...can you...get her off of me, please?" Tech asks quietly, "I don't want to wake her up."
Hunter nods.
"Come on, kiddo, time to get up."
"Five more minutes, Hunter..." Omega mumbles, only half-awake.
"It's morning, Omega," Tech tells her, "You need to get up."
"Okay, okay...just...five more minutes..." she groans. Hunter sighs.
"It's a weekend, so you can sleep in, I guess. But go to your own bed."
"Please," Tech adds.
"Fine..."
Like a sleepwalker, Omega stumbles back to her room, her blond hair stuck to her face. Tech sighs.
"You okay?" Hunter asks.
"...yes..." he answers half-truthfully. He flattens down his mouse-brown hair just enough that it doesn't become annoying, already eager to do something, anything, besides stay still.
"How do you do that?" He grumbles. Hunter raises an eyebrow.
"Do what?"
"...deal with people. Constantly."
Hunter sighs. He knows that Tech doesn't hold any ill will towards anyone, but the past few days, he has been more snippy. Hunter had simply attributed it to his obvious lack of sleep, but maybe something else is going on.
"Are you...okay?" He asks. Tech nods halfheartedly.
"No, you're not," Hunter insists.
"Mhm."
"What's wrong?"
"I'm fine," Tech grunts again, focusing on his phone. His shoulders are tense. Hunter sighs.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
Tech looks up, confused.
"Talk about what? Nothing's wrong, Hunter. I appreciate the concern, but truly, I'm alright."
"Right," Hunter groans, obviously unconvinced. He walks away.

(Time skip! Few hours later...)

Tech's soldering some machinery, half of a vanilla protein bar sitting on his side table. It's raining really hard, but he's so caught up in his work, he doesn't notice. In fact, when he's working, he really doesn't notice much of anything, which is why it takes him a while to realize that someone is knocking on his door. He pushes up his glasses and stops for a moment.
"Come in."
The door cracks open slowly, and Omega is standing there, her eyes puffy and swollen.
"Hi, Tech..." she mumbles, her voice lacking its usual cheerfulness.
"Hello, Omega," he responds. She sits on his bed and tucks her legs into her chest.
"...why are you here, exactly?" He asks.
"I just...didn't want to be alone..." she mutters.
"You can stay if you want. I'm just working."
She nods vaguely, and he gets back to work, his mind ricocheting with...something. Concern, probably. After some amount of time (he loses track pretty easily), he notices someone tapping him.
"Hm?" He calls, snapping back to reality. It's Omega again, and her eyes don't look any better.
"...can I...talk to you?"
He nods, puts down his tools, and sits on his bed, inviting her to sit as well. She sits down again and just stares at the floor silently. The rain beats against his window. Out of nowhere, she bursts out crying. Tech runs through a mental list, trying to figure out what to do to help her.
"Uh...what happened, Omega?"
She hugs him, and he freezes for a moment, both caught off-guard and not knowing what to do. After a moment, he awkwardly hugs back. She sniffs. The rain continues to pound...now it's a downpour, sheets of water hitting the windowpanes. A massive crack of thunder booms across the ash-gray sky. The sound slams into his tympanic membranes like a blast, and he flinches. After a moment, he manages to re-center himself, and clears his throat.
"...what happened?" He asks again.
"Hunter...H-Hunter and Crosshair got in an argument...um...and they...they were screaming...they seemed really angry at each other...and...and Crosshair told Hunter to 'fuck off'...what does that mean...? It sounded...really aggressive. So...that's what happened. I...I'm so sorry..."
He blinks, sorting his thoughts into their perfect little boxes.
Alright. Comfort first, ask questions later.
"I'm sure everything will be okay, Omega. I don't think there's anything to worry about," he states awkwardly, his voice somewhat flat. Omega nods shakily. Despite his lackluster skill at reassuring, she feels a bit better knowing that he thinks that.
"But...they..."
"I know, I know," he insists, "but you know that Crosshair says a lot of things that he later contradicts with his actions."
Something in his chest burns when he thinks about Omega's question. It's...it's some emotion, but he can't seem to identify it properly. He clenches his fists.
"As for what 'fuck off' means, it's an incredibly aggressive way of telling someone or something to go away. Please don't repeat it—it's only as aggressive as it is due to the use of profanity," he explains, his voice shaking a bit. She nods. His mood shifting in a way apparent to all but himself, he drops his gaze to the ground and shakes his head hard.
"Three-point-one-four-one-five-nine-two-six-five-three-five-eight-nine-seven-nine-three-two-three-eight-four-six-two-six-four-three-three-eight-three-two..."
"Tech?"
He continues rambling off the digits of pi. Omega taps his shoulder.
"What is it?"
"You're...not okay," she notes.
"I'm alright. Besides, even if I wasn't, shouldn't you be focusing on yourself?" He asks.
"...I can't hear them arguing anymore," she mutters, her eyes still a bit puffy, "um...well, I'll be alright. It'll take a bit, but I...I just need time, I guess. But what about you?"
"I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be? Did something happen involving me that you're worried about, Omega?"
"...you're shaking."
"No, I'm not."
He looks at his hands, turning them over, and then clenches his fists.
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
He all but shuts down at another crack of thunder, tucking into himself, his arms over his head and neck in a defensive position, his knees clamped over his ears, his breathing rapid and shallow. This one felt way louder. And now...everything feels too intense. He can hear too much...the whirring of the machinery on his desk, footsteps downstairs, the sound of his own breathing, his heart pounding in his ears, the microwave opening and closing, Omega's anxious and indecipherable words. And he can feel too much...his clothes feel far too intense on his skin, itchy and uncomfortable. He shudders, and opens his eyes, but closes then again a split-second after because the light is so blinding.
Too much...too much...TOO MUCH!
"Tech?" Omega calls quietly.
He's super overwhelmed right now...
"I'm here," she whispers, "I'm here if you need me."
It feels like every sensory neuron in his body is firing at once. He can feel beads of sweat form on his forehead. More thunder booms behind him, only adding to his feeling of being overwhelmed. He feels powerless against these overwhelming stimuli, trapped like a prisoner shackled by his ankles to the ground. His eyes water, and he grits his teeth to stop it, only to release his jaw a moment later because the feeling of his teeth grinding is too much to bear. Omega looks around, and spots a pair of comfy-looking headphones on the ground. She rushes over and grabs them.
"Tech."
He looks up vaguely, seeing her in such fine detail that she's actually blurry. She holds up the headphones. Recognizing what they are, he lunges towards her, rips them out of her hand, and shoves them onto his head. A bit surprised, Omega sits back on his bed. She doesn't know how much time passes before he untucks himself, panting, sweating, a stream of tears dripping down his face. He coughs and takes off his glasses, placing them on his side table.
"Tech?"
He swallows.
...I...I screwed up...
"I said...you should be...more concerned...about yourself."
His clothes don't feel like a prison anymore. The sound doesn't feel like an ocean crushing him anymore. His head doesn't feel light and clouded anymore. His heart doesn't feel like a jackhammer in his chest anymore. He slowly pushes his headphones off one ear, readjusting to the sounds of life.
"What happened?" Omega asks quietly.
"I'm...alright," he insists, wiping the tears off his face. Omega gives him a look of disbelief.
"No you're not. What happened?"
"I..." he starts, before shaking his head.
"Don't say you're fine. You're not."
You screwed up! You always screw everything up!
He looks down. His chest aches, his breath catches in his throat, and his head pounds.
Worthless trash!
"...I..."
She notices his hesitation, the clenching in his fists, the shaking in his voice.
"Tech, talk to me. Please."
"I-I'm fine," he insists again, but shakily.
She keeps pushing, worried about him. He keeps denying. His thoughts keep getting more and more aggressive. Every time, his voice shakes more. Tears well in his eyes.
Come on, you weakling, don't cry!
Finally, he has had enough. He hangs his head.
"Please just leave...don't lower yourself by being in the presence of a failure like me...I'm so sorry..."
She looks up at him, her eyes wide, concern bleeding through her face, crying hard.
"Okay..." she relents in hardly a whisper, and then she leaves.
Weak! You're weak! She hates you now!
Tech buries his face in his favorite soft blanket, unable to keep the tears from falling. He stays like that for a while, oppressed by his thoughts.
"Tech."
He rubs his face with the blanket and looks up. Echo is sitting on his bed, Wrecker is sitting on the floor, Crosshair is leaning against the wall, and Hunter is standing in the doorframe, his hand on Omega's shoulder. She looks up at Tech with an apologetic expression.
"...hello. What do you need?"
As usual, Echo is straight-to-the-point.
"Why were you crying?"
Tech feigns confusion.
"Crying?"
"Yeah," Crosshair interjects, his tone more concerned than mocking, "You never cry. What the hell?"
Tech looks around.
"What happened, Tech?" Hunter asks.
"Nothing. I just...I..."
He stands up.
"I-I should go. Good...um, goodbye."
He moves to walk out, but Hunter blocks him.
"Not so fast. Sit back down."
He does, his heart really not in his actions.
"What's wrong?" Crosshair asks, worried. Tech shakes his head.
"N-Nothing. I-I'm fine," he lies through his teeth.
"Tech...we're not THAT stupid..." Wrecker mutters. Tech backpedals immediately.
"I-I didn't mean to imply you were—is that how it sounded? I-I'm so sorry—I just—I-I didn't mean—I..."
He snarls at himself wordlessly, digging his nails into his palms.
Idiot. Can't even put your thoughts into words. What a failure.
"You can talk to us, Tech," Omega promises, "we're always here for you."
The others nod and agree.
"Tech, c'mon, something's clearly going on," Wrecker points out.
"What is it?" Crosshair half-demands.
Tech grits his teeth and shakes his head.
"Just...j-just go away. Leave me alone."
"...do you really want that?" Omega asks. He tenses. He feels so vulnerable, especially since she's right. He doesn't want to be alone, not now.
They should leave. It's for their own good. You don't deserve them!
"...I...I don't deserve you all..." he whispers, his lips barely parting.
Get up, already! You're letting your worthlessness keep you from being even marginally useful?! You overdramatic brat!
"I'm sorry, what did you say?!" Echo half-snarls. Tech is startled by his aggression.
"I-I-I didn't say anything!"
"No, you said something," Echo points out. After trying and failing to deny it again, Tech lowers his head in defeat.
"I-I...I said I don't deserve you all..." he mumbles, not meeting their eyes. Wrecker inhales sharply, worried. Crosshair clenches his fists. Omega hugs Hunter, and he hugs her back.
"Tech..." Echo whispers, "look at me."
You worthless failure!
"No. I...I don't deserve to. I'm a failure...only fit to be used by others for their own gain. I'm nothing. I mess everything up...I'm nothing more than a failure..."
They all gasp. Crosshair rubs at his eyes aggressively, totally not crying. Wrecker is crying. Omega is crying.
"Who the hell told you that load of junk?!" Echo demands, "'cause I've never heard anything further from the truth!"
"...huh...?"
"You're a genius—"
"WELL, IF I'M SO SMART, WHY CAN'T I SPEAK TO PEOPLE PROPERLY?!" Tech demands. He immediately covers his mouth.
"I-I'm so sorry...I d-didn't mean to raise my voice...I-I-I..."
"Tech," Echo calls, "listen to me, okay? Just listen for a second."
He grabs his brother's hand. Although Tech normally doesn't like physical contact, he doesn't pull away.
"You're not a failure, you're not useless, and you don't mess everything up. You're one of the kindest, most intelligent, and most hardworking people I know, and I'm positive the rest of us would agree."
The other four voice their agreement.
"You do plenty of things with a level of skill beyond most people's imagination. I mean, hell, just in the last few years you've invented more modifications to technology than most people could come up with in thirty lifetimes! You've memorized more than I even thought possible, and although you can have trouble with people sometimes, you are genuinely one of the most compassionate individuals I have ever met. You always want to help people if you can. That's far from useless, far from a failure."
He lowers his voice.
"I know that what I'm saying won't fix everything...but just try and keep my words in your head, okay?"
"...okay..." Tech mumbles, determined to try and expecting to fail.
"Alright. Do you want some alone time now?"
He nods tearfully. Echo lets go of his brother's hand and turns to the others.
"Let's go."
They all look at him like he's crazy.
"But he—"
"—said he wants to be alone right now," Echo insists.
He turns back to Tech.
"You can always talk to us, okay? I promise. We all promise."
"...I understand..." Tech mumbles, grateful that they're there and broken-hearted that he'll inevitably end up disappointing them. They leave, but not before Omega gives him a big hug.
"It's okay...we'll always be here for you..." she insists quietly, before walking away and shutting the door. He buries his head in his pillow and closes his eyes, trying to coax himself to unrestful sleep.