This is you, this is me, this is all we need.

Is it true? My faith is shaken, but I still believe…

Sometimes, the galaxy seemed too grown up. Or maybe she was just very naive. Even after they'd all finished giving her the "slavery is bad, but some people do it anyway so kriff them" talk, Omega found she was still having a hard time wrapping her head around the issue.

It just seemed wrong to her. Period. No living being should be sold into servitude against their will just because someone decided it needed to be that way.

No one should ever have their decisions made for them by someone else. No one.

Cloudy memories of the Kaminoans pounded at her skull, which still ached from thinking so hard about their mission and the cruel reality of slavery.

Well, at least we can free Moochi, she thought, slipping out of the cockpit shortly after the conversation had drifted away from her. And that has to count for something.

Smiling, Omega gripped her trooper ragdoll in a determined fist and skipped off to her room. Not a day went by that she didn't feel incredibly lucky to have made such good friends. To be included in something so amazing as the Bad Batch.

To be a part of such a great squad—such a great family.

That's what they all were, she'd decided: a family. One she didn't ever want to lose.

"Come on, gonky," she said, beckoning the bulky gonk droid standing aimlessly in the corner. "I'm going to make a few modifications to my trooper. Want to see?"

Whether the droid wanted to watch her paint her doll or not—she was pretty sure he thought it would be fun—it dutifully followed her down the main hall, clunking and beeping all the way.

He was so loud, in fact, that Omega almost missed it completely. Almost. It was definitely there, though.

A low goan, soaked in pain.

"Gonky…?" The droid simply kept walking, until he'd passed Omega, who stood stock still, listening.

The second groan had her tiptoeing through the ship until she found herself a few feet away from Wrecker's bunk.

Brows furrowed, Omega observed him for a long moment. The way his hands clutched at his head. The way his fingers roughly massaged his temples.

The way his bright, playful eyes were tightly squeezed shut.

"… Wrecker…?" The groan that answered her was only half as loud as the others had been. Almost as if he'd been trying to stop it from slipping out at all.

"Wrecker?"

His eyes were barely slitted, but at least they were open now. "Yeah? D'you need something?"

The caring concern in his voice touched her heart, but Omega wasn't there for herself—she rarely ever was.

"No," she said with a shake of her head, "I got everything I need." Then, she stepped a bit closer. "Do… you need anything?"

He just shook his head, letting his eyelids scrunch closed again. "Nah, I'm good."

"You're hurt," she observed. "Echo knows where the medkit is. I can go—"

"'S okay. I'm fine." The way he curled rigidly onto his side to face her had Omega doubting that statement very much. His attempt at a smile fell short and she felt herself smiling a little as if she could somehow make up for it.

"'Sides," he went on after a heavy sigh, "there ain't anything in there that works, anyway."

"When did you hit your head?"

"I dunno. Somewhere in all that chaos. I don't remember." He clearly did, but Omega wasn't going to push it. "It'll stop hurting soon. It always does."

"Yeah?" she prodded, padding closer until she was right by his side.

His chuckle surprised her a little. "This ain't the first time I hit my head, kid. It always goes away…"

"Does it always hurt this bad?"

Wrecker had the gall to look affronted. "Who ever said it hurts really bad?"

"Your face." Smiling sweetly, she pointed a finger at his face as it morphed back into a contorted mess of pain. "I may have grown up a little sheltered on Kamino, but I have seen people in pain before. Now, what can I do to help?"

Another chuckle, this one drenched in a pain Wrecker couldn't conceal—and she knew he was trying. "Wanna switch heads for a minute?"

She felt a small smile tug at her lips. "I don't think you'd want my head."

"Cid said you were the smartest of us all, and I think she's right, no matter what Tech thinks," he added, grinning. "I wouldn't mind having a few smarts for once."

"You're smart."

Wrecker snorted, then winced at the motion. "Sure, kid."

The need to defend him against his own self-depreciation was strong, but she couldn't exactly figure out how to do it. There were a million words she wanted to say, and yet actually saying and phrasing them right was one thing she wasn't sure how to do.

Instead, she willed her smile not to waver. "Are you sure there's nothing I can get you. No painkillers, or maybe just something to drink?"

"Trying to make yourself the squad's medic?" His chuckle deflated quickly, making room for another rogue groan. For a brief moment, his fingers started to move again, dancing over his temples in an effort to relieve the pain.

A few seconds later, he squeezed his eyes shut once more and let out a heavy sigh. "I'll be fine, kid. Don't worry about me, okay?"

Omega furrowed her brows. Easier said than done. If he wasn't going to tell her how to help, then she'd just have to figure it out herself.

Because when the galaxy seemed too grown up, Omega was grateful she was still young. Sometimes, a little youthful bliss was all a situation needed.

Her smile returned as she placed her trooper doll against Wrecker's arm. When he didn't seem to notice her handiwork, Omega did her best to ward off the crippling hands of disappointment that threatened to snatch her spirit away.

So she waited for him to notice her small offering of comfort, but Wrecker's efforts to rid himself of the pain only seemed to intensify. It was as if he thought he could curb the migraine simply by shoving his palm against the side of his head over and over again.

The more she watched it, the deeper she winced.

When Wrecker shifted to lay on his back, the doll slid silently onto the floor.

And her smile faltered, but only for a moment. "Wrecker…?"

A heavy groan answered her.

Right, then.

Without any hesitation, Omega crawled into the small patch of bunk next to him. Resting her head on his arm, she snuggled against his side.

"Omega?" He gazed down at her through slitted lids. "I said I'm fine. You don't have to—Agh!"

"I know," she replied, snuggling closer as his face contorted in pain. "But you're hurting and I don't want you to be alone. No one should be alone. So, I'll stay with you till you're better! Is…" And she felt the first twinges of hesitation slither into her mind. "... Is that okay?"

Another short-lived groan came in answer, and for a moment, Omega feared he was going to make her leave.

Instead, she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders.

"Thanks, kid," he breathed.

Omega felt her body instantly relax as she sighed with relief.

"Did I ever tell ya how glad I am that you're here?" The words were barely audible, but to Omega, nothing had ever been more clear.

"I'm glad you're here, too," she replied with a grin.

This time, his hearty laugh held no trace of its earlier pain.

Mission accomplished.

Snuggling closer, Omega closed her eyes.

Because, yeah, sometimes the galaxy was too grown up for her young mind, but at least she would always have a hand to hold and someone to care about.

At least she would always have her team.

This is you, this is me, this is all we need,

So won't you stay a while?