The Bad Batch: One Shot Collection

Febuwhump Day Three: "Bite Down On This"

Author's Note: I. Uh. Have so many feels about this. Like. Can somebody just adopt these people???? All of them???? Because someone very badly needs to like. Sit down and explain that Omega's life doesn't matter more than theirs. Nobody is born to die. They deserve better. T_T

~ Rivana Rita

In which Hunter encounters his new-found fear of heights, and Omega finally admits she's still terrified of losing them.

Hunter should've guessed his newfound fear of heights would come back badly. He never actually thought about it until he was some something-hundred feet in the air and his heart wouldn't stop pounding hard enough he thought it'd stop altogether, that he – that he'd never make it out or back or...

Well, they have a mission success, minus the broken leg he got for his efforts.

It was his own fault for being so stupid, anyway. He knows better. He's been trained not to do stupid things like that. They can't afford to fail, to mess up, to – any of whatever in the galaxy he thought he was doing.

He's their leader. He's a sergeant. He shouldn't have messed up like that in the first place, but well, here they are.

At least it was him, not anyone else.

He feels awful for how often he made fun of Wrecker for being terrified of heights. Okay, maybe it's stupid – yes, it is stupid – but that doesn't mean he had to be so insensitive about it.

Trying to get the bone set now is, well, painful. Obviously. Wrecker's holding his hand, and Hunter's grateful for his presence – he's warm and calming, and he's here. It's – it helps. They're all here. (A part of him expected to wake up in the past, back on Daro, back with the Empire, with Crosshair. He can't stop thinking about it.)

He's broken limbs before. He's used to it. After it's set, it'll be fine, but until then, well...

"Here," Tech says, shoving something into his hands. "Bite down on this."

"Cloth?" he asks skeptically, "Unless you're just trying to get it wet –"

"We would be significantly farther if you would stop complaining about everything," Tech snaps back.

Ouch.

That's fair though. He has been. Is. Whatever. They all are. No one's really stopped since Kamino. That's part of grieving, and there's nothing like grieving someone who's still alive. He almost might have not been from – from what happened. From how he just walked away, from – no.

It doesn't matter.

Hunter opts for rolling his eyes so hard they nearly hurt, and complying anyhow.

He's mildly proud of staying quiet when he feels Tech snap the bone back in place.

Hunter exhales slowly, shoving the cloth-thing back at Tech. "There," he supplies dryly, "It's wet."

"Be glad I didn't give you your headband you haven't washed in three weeks," Tech snips back. "Do you even know what it smells like?"

"I'm wearing it. Of course, I know." He has the most sensitive sense of smell, actually, except Echo's bothered by things far more.

Omega giggles. Hunter feels her touching his hand, and he has to forcibly unclench it to take hers. At least she finds their argument amusing – Hunter certainly doesn't. It doesn't hurt, because Tech's not saying anything that would hurt, but Hunter knows he's lashing out because he's hurt.