Another chapter! Boy was this a fun one. We all over the place. Teasing, kink jokes, Crosshair having a crisis, Hunter done with everyone and everything, my hair turning purple because magic and I got my hair dyed, Tech inquisitive af, and Wrecker just wants to hold hands.
Then throw in a sprinkle of Skyrim and a dash of cliffhanging.
Essentially AoaI in a nutshell.
Poor Cross and Shadow. Co-juggling chainsaws on a tightrope above an abyss. When will our two intrepid heroes realize their true feelings and get together?
Not for a while because Slowburn.
Content Warnings!
BDSM reference, kink reference, language, self hate, hints to Horny Hunter and Horny Shadow because I've tired of tip-toeing around the issue.
Well ain't this just the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day...
Harsh breaths filled the air, nearly drowning out the birdsong and distant screech of Clickers who were rather unhappy about losing their lunch. The gentle gurgle of a nearby stream mocked me as I stared up at the vibrant and lush canopy. Wrecker's plastoid gauntlet dug into my back, yet I couldn't muster the energy to roll off.
Besides, a certain sergeant's skull-painted helmet weighted my stomach down and his backpack more or less pinned my tail to the earth.
Hand falling to rest on his helmet, I groaned, "That coulda gone better."
"You think?" Crosshair groaned, kicking my foot off and slowly sitting up. Pulling off his helmet, sweat dripping down his face and his grey hair in all different directions, he began to fiddle with his viewfinder. Hopefully the log roll hadn't broken it.
"Watch your altitude with me, Twiggy," I grumbled.
"Don't you mean 'attitude'?" he asked, squinting at me.
My head thumped back against the leaf strewn ground. "I do not." I rolled my head to the side where Tech laid on his stomach across a splintered section of bark. "Techie?"
"I'm fine," he grunted, rolling to his side. "Ugh, cut my blacks..."
"Better than your skin," I chuckled breathlessly, then winced as a dull ache raced through my body. "Oof, better not do that." I lightly kicked Wrecker's armored leg. "Scruffy?"
"Present," he groaned, the low response resonating within my chest.
I lightly drummed my fingers on Hunter's helmet. "Shaggy?"
"Awake," he replied in a hoarse tone, reaching up and gripping my hand.
I squeezed then shoved him. "You're on my tail. Scoot your armored ass off."
Unintelligible grumbling met my ears as Hunter shuffled off. "Any danger?"
"Think we're good for the time being."
"Excellent." He rolled over and laid face down.
I patted his back with my tail and shifted myself off Wrecker's gauntlet to lean against his side. His hand followed me and I grasped it in mine. His thumb brushed across the back.
Goodness, his hands were big. And strong.
Could he crush a rock like a chip?
Must have hit my head...
"How 'bout you, Squeaky?" Wrecker asked, concerned. "You ok?"
"Been better, but that's the consensus group-wide."
"Affirmative," Tech replied, sitting cross-legged as he checked the tear in his blacks between his shoulder pad and bicep cuff.
"What the hell was that barrier about?" Hunter grumbled, pushing himself up and sitting back on his heels.
"Mate," I huffed, laying over Wrecker's stomach and closing my eyes. "I told you we'd be dealin' with a magic leak."
"Since when do barriers factor in?"
"Since magic does whatever magic wants. The larger the leak, the stranger and bigger the area gets," I said, shifting and grimacing.
Yeah, I've definitely got a wicked burn on my hip.
At least I had no true pain sensors in my fandom jumps.
"Ok, so why the drums? Have you heard them before?" His head jerked and he yanked off his helmet. "And why is your hair now purple?!"
"Nani?!" I exclaimed, sitting straight up and pulling some in front of my hair to inspect it.
Sure enough, my hair was deep violet.
I sighed and brushed it back over my shoulder. "Hellfire, I'm too tired to care," I groaned, then scowled as the literal air clung to me like a wet shower curtain. "And too humid, the fuck is this cursed land..."
"That's entirely impossible!" Tech gasped, having abandoned his blacks to investigate my hair. I noticed one of his antennas was snapped, but didn't mention it yet. He'd probably notice eventually. But right now, his concern was elsewhere. "How did your hair do that?!"
"Mate, I don't know. Magic," I said, throwing my hands up in defeat.
"Magic? That's not real-"
"Yet here I am with purple hair, nerd," I retorted.
"You look pretty, Squeak," Wrecker announced, still sprawled but managing to reach across and pat my shoulder with his free hand.
"Thank you, Scruff," I chuckled.
"Ok, fine. Magic made your hair purple. That's fine," Hunter grumbled, tugging at his own hair which was handling the humidity far better than mine. Hunter himself looked miserable though. "But why were there drums?"
Why indeed. I couldn't tell them "Yeah they're from a movie in my own reality cause this isn't my reality". They'd never believe me. I knew I'd have to tell them about the fandom hopping eventually but...
Eh, I'd burn that bridge when we came to it.
I had other things to worry about.
"Not sure about the drums," I lied. Or half lied. I honestly wasn't sure how that all worked.
But... if this was a Jumanji segment...
I looked down at my chest. "I wonder..."
"Why are you staring at your chest?" Tech asked from beside me.
"Just thinkin'..." I slipped my hand from Wrecker's and tapped the left side.
A chime accompanied the action and a purple box flickered to life in the air beside me. Writing scrawled across it, but it was in English. At least I could read it even if the boys couldn't.
"What the kark is that?" Hunter sighed with a weak gesture at the chart, resigned to the supernatural fuckery currently occurring.
Tech, however, found it downright fascinating and began inspecting the floating box. Meanwhile, Wrecker sat up and waved his hand through the projection.
"It's a chart," I replied, looking it over.
"I see that," the sergeant grumbled, rolling his eyes.
Sassy sergeant.
"Can you read it?" Tech asked, squinting at the letters. "I don't recognize this alphabet."
"Yeah, it's mine."
"Kelusian?"
"Sure," I lied, studying it. "Let's see... Strengths: Hand to hand combat, animal affinity, adaptability, marksmanship." I shrugged. "Makes sense."
"Marksmanship?" Crosshair asked, not glancing up from his viewfinder.
"Aye. I'm not too good with pistols, but rifles are my jam. Now, weaknesses. Heights, tight spaces, intense stimuli..." I glared at the last one, tail twitching. "Self-doubt. Didn't need a score card to tell me that."
"Oooo do I have one?" Wrecker asked, excited. "I mean a score card?"
"Tap the left side of your chest."
He tapped the right.
"Your other left," I said, tapping his chest plate.
A chime and the appearance of an orange skills sheet made him gasp.
"Oh cool!" he laughed as Tech began inspecting his hovering chart once mine faded. "Squeak, what's mine say?!"
I peered at the chart. "Strengths: Strength, loyalty, durability, and weapons ordinance. Weaknesses-"
"I don't have weaknesses, Squeak!"
Crosshair snorted.
Glancing at the homicidal twig, I looked back to Wrecker's sheet. "According to the chart you do. Heights, interpersonal skills, agility, baby animals." I snickered at the last one. Definitely Wrecker.
"Enter person?" Wrecker echoed.
"Interpersonal," Tech corrected, taking notes on his vambrace. "You have bad social skills."
"Oh," Wrecker mumbled, then slapped Tech's chest. "What's yours?"
I looked over the blue chart as Tech threatened Wrecker with bodily harm including but not limited to organ theft and asphyxiation. "Strengths: Technology, science, agility, and linguistics," I read aloud. "Weaknesses: Strength, compassion, curiosity, and near-sightedness."
"My curiosity is not a weakness!" Tech protested, abandoning his threatening of Wrecker. "It has aided us numerous times."
"And bit us in the ass numerous times," Crosshair sneered.
"You are just jealous," Tech stated, crossing his arms.
Crosshair just glared.
"To be fair, Techie, it is a weakness when it drives you to continuously ask for my blood like a mad scientist who is a closet vampire."
"Blood is useful in scientific research," he defended.
"I'm just endin' this here before it turns rocky." I glanced at Hunter and reached out. "Sarge?"
He nodded and I poked his chest, causing a green chart to flicker to life.
"Alrighty let's see. Strengths: Melee combat, agility, tracking, smol-" I stopped abruptly, a comical scowl on my face as my ears went sideways. "Of course."
"Ice?" Hunter asked, glancing at the chart.
I sighed. "Smoldering intensity," I said through gritted teeth.
"You sound upset about that," he teased.
I found a patch of ivy suddenly very interesting. "Stop looking at me like that, you're gonna give me issues," I growled.
"What kind of issues, hmm?"
"If you want a sneezing fit, keep doin' what you're doin', Sparky," I snorted, kicking his chest to push him away.
"Wait, that gets you aroused?!" Wrecker exclaimed.
Hellfire. "Hit or miss," I replied with a shrug. "Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Like playin' roulette."
"What does get you heated?" he asked, leaning forward.
My cheeks warmed and my tail bushed out. "Erm. Things and such."
Usually I'd outright tell people I had an interest in BDSM plus various kinks because I didn't give two shits, but there was the small risk of triggering Horny Hunter and I wasn't able to tackle that right now.
Wrecker, however, pressed on. "What... things and such?"
"She has kinks," Tech supplied.
Nerd! "Boy I will throw you into the nearest mud puddle I see if you don't cease and desist!" I yelped.
"You said you wrote mature content on your phone, though!" Tech protested.
"Fuck's sake, Techie," I groaned.
"But Sque-"
"This conversation is over. Now shush!" I barked, moving on to Hunter's weaknesses. "Weaknesses: Intense stimuli, electricity, humidity, and family." I looked around at the jungle. "Youch to that third one, man."
"You aren't doing so well yourself," he remarked, glancing at my own hair.
"Leave my hair outta this, we can't all have cooperative locks that look like they were forged by the gods," I retorted, kicking him again.
That got a laugh out of him.
"Let Squeaky see your chart, Cross!" Wrecker said.
All eyes then turned to the sniper, who stiffened.
Would Crosshair actually let me see the "Weakness" category though? He was usually locked up tighter than Fort Knox, so I fully accepted it if he chose not to. "It's your call, Crosshair," I said carefully, tail twitching. "Not gonna force ya to if you don't want to."
Brown eyes held mine before he reached up, hesitated, and tapped his chest.
I didn't look yet. "I'll just read the strengths."
"Can read them all."
I blinked in surprise. He... he was giving me permission to look at that? I mean, I had my own ideas about his weaknesses and he probably suspected I knew them. But to willingly let me see them... "Certain, Cross? I ain't gonna pry."
"Yeah."
I gave him a gentle nod before scanning the list. "Strengths: Marksmanship, dependability, discernment, and..." My eyes widened. "Cryptology!" I looked back to Crosshair, impressed. "You're a code breaker?"
"He's good at catching patterns or even the slightest thing amiss in transmissions or areas," Hunter supplied.
Crosshair just nodded. I thought I saw his cheeks darken, but I chalked it up to the heat and blood rush from battle.
"Yo, that's legit," I remarked, then hesitated before looking at the Weaknesses. I glanced at Crosshair once more, making sure he was in fact ok with it.
Once more he held my gaze before giving a small nod.
Nodding back, I let my eyes scan the bottom section. "Weaknesses: Swimming, teamwork, far-sightedness..." Shit... "And durability."
Crosshair's eyes narrowed. "It says durability?"
"Yes."
You're lying.
He didn't say it aloud, but he didn't need to. His eyes said it perfectly fine.
He knew it didn't say that.
Judging by the look Hunter was giving me, he knew I was lying too.
Yet neither man called me out on it.
Tech had no such qualms. "Your body language suggests something different."
"What reason would I have to lie?"
Other than to protect Crosshair...
Our relationship was rocky at best but I already knew how he'd react if he knew what I'd really read.
My heart jumped into my throat as Tech went to closer inspect Crosshair's chart, but thankfully it fizzled before he could.
I was safe.
For now.
I'd have to face it eventually, but currently I was in the clear.
"Durability makes sense," Hunter said slowly, eyes going from me to Crosshair.
"Guess so," Crosshair grumbled, then changed the subject. "Have my pistol, furball?"
"Ya." I reached into my waistband to grab it, only to wince when it tugged my skin. "Oh, I'd uh... give you your pistol back but... I think it's burnt onto my skin."
"What!?" Hunter exclaimed, sitting up straight.
"Shadow!" Tech gasped. "You're hurt and you didn't say anything?!"
"Why didn't you tell us, Squeaky!?"
"It was hot but I needed my hands free!" I defended, uncomfortable with all the attention.
In any other case having all their focus would be a dream, but right now it was a downright bloody nightmare.
"I gave that to you so you wouldn't get hurt," Crosshair snapped.
My ears pinned as I shrank back. For some reason, his yell hurt worse than the others. So much for connecting with him more... shit! "I had to save Hunter. Look, Crosshair, I'm sorry! I didn't mean for this to happen! I just didn't want to lose it again!"
"It's ok, Shadow," Hunter assured me, a hand on my shoulder as he knelt beside me on the opposite side from Tech. "Crosshair's done worse. How much pain are you in?"
"Er... none," I replied hesitantly, not meeting his gaze. "I feel the heat. Just not pain. Alphian pain tolerance."
I hated lying, but the truth was unbelievable.
"We need to get it off you," Hunter said, reaching, only to freeze as he remembered where the pistol was. "Um..."
"I'll get it," I sighed, gripping the pistol again. "Miracle the bitch didn't fire, safety is still off."
"You had how many years of gun experience?" Crosshair growled.
My tail curled around me and I shrank back into Wrecker. Why was his anger worse than a damn spear through the chest? "I... I didn't know what else to do..."
"Cross, lay off, she's hurt," Hunter barked.
"Just give me my pistol back."
Hoping I'd at least feel enough pain to distract me, I yanked the pistol from my waistband. Pressure, no pain.
Damnit.
I looked over it quickly and held it out to Crosshair. "No skin at least..."
He took it from me, and I flinched when his fingers brushed mine. Switching the pistol back to stun before replacing it in his holster, he stood and announced, "Goin' to do a perimeter sweep."
"Take Wrecker," Hunter said.
"Aw, I wanna stay with Squeaky," Wrecker whined. "She's not feelin' good." He shot a glare at Crosshair.
"I'll... I'll make some time alone with you later today, how's that, Tigger?" I asked, testing the new nickname. Would have preferred a time when I didn't feel like shit, but timing never was my strong suit.
His eyes lit up. "Deal!" he exclaimed, giving me a quick but light hug before slipping his helmet on and jogging after Crosshair.
"Got him wrapped around your little finger," Hunter chuckled softly.
"Don't know what you mean, Sarge," I replied, a weak smile on my face.
Never could stay sad around Wrecker. The boy was insta-happiness, even when the Twig got hostile.
I just wished I wasn't frequently on thin ice with Crosshair. I knew there was a softer side to him under all those briars. A softer side that I was slowly falling harder and harder for every time I saw it. But every time I thought I was making headway, a briar would stick me.
And it was just getting tiresome bleeding all the time.
"I have a bacta patch," Tech offered in that soft voice of his. "For that burn and your arm."
Despite the red subtlety oozing from my cuts, I shook my head. "Leave the arm, it will heal fine."
Would probably leave a flurry of nasty scars though.
"At least bandage it," Hunter said, eyeing the wounds.
"I got bandages in the pack. Just gotta get 'em," I said, pulling off my pack then summoning them from the void. I laid them on my lap. "I'll... take the bacta if you can spare it though."
"Of course," Tech said, already slipping his pack off. He groaned loudly at the snapped antenna but fished out the bandages and bacta and handed them to me before fiddling with this antenna.
Hunter plucked the supplies from my lap. "Give me those," he said, leaving me just the bacta patch.
"Hunter, I can bandage myself."
"I know. But at least let me bandage your arm," he said. "It's easier than doing it on your own."
Let him. Alright.
"I'm gonna get this thing on my stomach first," I said.
"Tell me when you're done," Hunter said, turning away.
Polite boy. I grit my teeth against the bacta, but it definitely felt good when it quit hurting.
Would have liked the sting to stick around to keep my mind off Crosshair.
Would also have liked the presence of pain to remain consistent because the continuity of hurting or not hurting was, for lack of a better word, shit.
Why it gotta keep changing to fit the narrative?
"Alright, Sarge," I sighed after I finished. Shifting to a more comfortable position and holding my arm out to him, I nodded for him to start bandaging.
As he sat beside me and got to work, I glanced at Tech. Downtrodden and exhausted from the fight, the feel of Hunter's hands, oddly gentle for a tough sergeant, weren't sparking the usual feelings they should for me.
I needed another distraction and Tech was the best one.
He sat with his pack in his lap, muttering under his breath as he tinkered and took some of his tools from his belt. At least they were practical. Then again Tech didn't strike me as an AestheticTM type fella. Function only. No room or time for anything else. Yet a thoughtful guy nevertheless.
"Whatcha doin', Tech?" I asked, head tilted.
He perked up and immediately launched into an enthusiastic explanation about antennas and antenna maintenance. I didn't understand half of what he said, but he was such a happy little nerd that I had to smile.
"Do you understand what he's saying?" Hunter asked softly as Tech became more invested in his task and unconsciously trailed off.
"Hardly. But I like hearin' people talk about things they enjoy," I replied, swishing my tail as I watched Tech tinker, his brows furrowed as he bit his tongue.
Tech does the concentrated face!
"Haven't seen you smile like that in a bit," Hunter remarked, finishing up on my arm.
"I always smile at wholesome things, Sarge," I replied with a weak laugh. "Show me a wholesome video and I cry every time."
He looked at me funny. "Why?"
"There's so much dark shit in life. Seeing lighthearted stuff... it makes me feel warm and fuzzy. And... gives me hope for a better future."
Why was I telling these guys this? We were decently close now but...
Hellfire. Damn it to hell with keeping up a pretense. Besides, they liked me for my unfiltered genuine nature. Why hide it?
If I couldn't show them every side of me, the relationship wasn't worth it.
Tech, having almost replaced the antenna, looked over. "I told you that you were nicer than you let people believe," he said with a smile.
Thought you weren't listening.
My ears twitched, but I had to chuckle. "You are a perceptive nerd, Techie."
He perked up. "Thank you, Shadow!"
I winked at him. I really needed to pay more attention to this fella more. He hadn't really complained, but... well I still felt bad.
Getting to my feet, I brushed myself off then held out a hand to pull Hunter to his feet.
He readily accepted and jumped up. "Where now, Icy?"
A glint at the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I looked over.
Only to frown again.
"For goodness' sake, more magic nonsense?" I sighed, instantly recognizing clairvoyance from Skyrim.
How many fandoms were we gonna deal with in this mess?
I swear, if I have to mess with cave spiders...
"What do you see, Ice?" Hunter asked as Tech slipped his pack back on and stood up.
"A glowing trail that leads us in that direction," I muttered, gesturing towards a gap in the lush undergrowth.
A low groan turned my blood cold, and I swallowed when Hunter closed his eyes and rested a hand on his head.
Tech reached for his pistols and I knew shit was about to go down.
"Hunter?" I asked, reaching for my blades. Not like I could deflect any bullets without the Force, but I felt better armed than not.
Maybe I should pull out Tommy before things went pear-shaped...
Stay strapped or get clapped.
Ignoring me, Hunter's eyes snapped open and he scanned the undergrowth. Unblinking, his head swept back and forth, the range growing shorter with every moment before he zeroed in on a thicker portion of the undergrowth right near a large vine.
Whirring and beeping tickled my inner ear.
Recon droid!
Hunter's knife narrowly clipped the side of the droid as it abruptly rose and shot off into the undergrowth.
"Jam it, Tech!" Hunter barked, darting forward and snatching his knife before giving chase.
In an instant, I was on his tail and racing just behind the sergeant.
So much for staying together.
Like you said. Plan never survives first contact.
Now if we could only make contact!
Back and forth the droid weaved, leading us around immense mossy trunks meters in diameter or under sagging vines thicker than industrial cables.
Ferns and branches whipped at my face, roots snagged my feet, and I'm pretty sure I hit a spider web or two.
Didn't matter.
Not now.
Hunter was gaining. A mistake on the droid's part and the commando would make the kill.
I could hear it still beeping.
Trying to get word out to its comrades.
Trying to bring help.
Help that would hurt the boys.
My boys.
Not today!
I extended my hand and sent an invisible blast towards the recon droid. The impact staggered the droid just enough that it scraped against a tree.
But that small snag was enough.
Pouncing on the slowed droid, Hunter snarled and drove his knife into the large red monitor.
Sparks flew and a high-pitched whine split the air before fading into a low drone and then silence.
Panting hard as I came to a stop beside Hunter, hands on my knees, I winced as each breath scorched my throat worse than a blazing fire. Hot sweat coated me head to toe, causing every speck of dirt, mud, moss, leaf, and dust to cling to me. Legs pulsed in rhythm with my pounding heart, sharp stabs of agony racing up and down.
The droid looked a lot bigger up close, subtle dents and scratches in the dark metal far more noticeable. Sparks still sprayed like an arc welder and a dark pool of what I could only assume to be maintenance fluid rapidly spread beneath it.
This ain't a cartoon. It's real. Gonna be a lot messier.
Could the same be said for blaster wounds?
I gagged at the smell of torched circuits and lifted a hand to cover my nose. "Wow, that reeks."
"Have you never seen a droid?" Hunter asked, kicking it.
"No," I answered before I could think of a more believable answer. When his helmet turned my way, I laughed nervously and looked away. "I mean, not a stabbed one."
Hunter stared at me, his heart pounding in my ears. "Shadow, there's... something I need to ask you. About the weird events that happen around you. And about the sailors."
Did he know? Probably guessed, but did he think there was some reason?
What did he know that I didn't?
Guess there was only one way to find out.
Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.
"What is it, Hunter?" I asked, tail twitching.
He took a breath, then stiffened. "Get behind me." His sharp tone hit like the shock from the icy stream. "Now."
Gears and servos filled my ears, and I jerked around to see not one, two, four, six, ten, fourteen, twenty... but what had to be thirty droids through the trees. Maybe even upwards of forty.
They hadn't seen us yet, but that wouldn't last long-
An armored limb snaked around me as Hunter covered my mouth to stifle the yelp of surprise. Yanking me back into the dense cover, he pressed us both into the ground as the droids got closer.
This was... not how I imagined things would go the first time Hunter's hand was covering my mouth. Laying still under the commando even though he was pretty damn heavy and was squishing me, I swallowed thickly.
Droids.
Real droids.
And not just a few.
Oh no.
That would have been too easy.
Two scores of them.
Thirty or even forty was nothing to these men. I knew that.
But even one was worrisome for me.
The fact that I was only facing off against B1s somewhat helped, but...
Real life and cartoons were vastly different...
Stupid as they looked, Hunter's pounding heart in my ears plus various clone deaths flashing across my eyes told me just how lethal these "tinnies" were.
Then, off all the deaths, one blazed in my mind far more vividly than the others.
The death of a clone who meant so much to the Domino squad. To all the clones.
The death of a clone who was always told he'd never amount to anything.
A clone who deserved the galaxy but never got the chance...
A clone who died a true hero's death.
A clone... who served as the inspiration for the Bad Batch themselves.
99.
"Where's the recon unit?"
My ears flattened at that mechanical voice. I still remembered making fun of that voice with my friend when we were eight.
When we didn't know any better.
When we just didn't get what they did.
When we didn't understand death.
Which awaited me and Hunter if they realized we were here.
The tough synthetic fiber of his glove just below my nose smelled intensely of ozone, dirt, blood, bacta, and fuel. Yucky, to say the least, but I couldn't risk disturbing the leaves to pull it off.
"I don't know! Last transmission came from this quadrant!"
Hunter must have been talking on his private comm, because I could feel his chest move above me as he spoke, but could near no audio.
How that worked, I didn't know.
Didn't care.
Long as it worked.
Don't question things.
Just go with it.
"Found him! Hey! He's been stabbed!"
"Stabbed? Search the area!"
Do not.
Silently, Hunter reached down and pulled the vibroblade from its sheathe and I watched as it passed by my eyes, the heat warming my face and faint hum tickling my ears.
He was planning to fight these droids all by himself.
Not on my watch!
I would have his back in this.
Even if I got hit in the process.
Fear not! Crosshair's fourth weakness shall be revealed in time!