Summary: "Hunter's lips quirk up a little, and he reaches for the nearest table, where his brother's datapad rests." Hunter shows Omega some of Tech's recordings from the Clone Wars as they wait for their brother to wake up. One-shot.

Random prompt that I started using partway through: Sad things made him nervous.

A/N: For some reason, I'm really not liking this one. But I'd feel worse if I just scrapped it, so here's where we're at.

Awakening Times Past

Hunter's youngest brother lays motionless on the Havoc Marauder's operating table, his top half stripped bare- with no exception to his goggles.

Purple-black bruises darken much of his skin- there's a particularly large one spanning from one of his cheeks to his temple- and there's a bacta patch covering up a deep cut on his stomach.

He's out cold, a sedative making its course through his wiry body.

His heart beats steadily in his chest.

But Hunter refuses to leave his side.

"Is he going to be okay?" Omega asks for the third time, peering at their engineer nervously.

"He'll be fine, Omega." Hunter promises. "He always is."

"Did it happen a lot in the war?" She catches him off-guard, a hint of curiosity to her worried gaze.

"We all got hurt a lot in the war. Especially Tech." He confesses. "This isn't the worst thing that's happened to him."

It really isn't. Dozens of images flash through his mind, each of his youngest brother bleeding out or limping heavily, laying unconscious, or overexerting himself by doing tasks that Wrecker should have been tending to and collapsing afterwards. He remembers the rockslide, watching his little brother sink into Wrecker's embrace as tears slid down his face and blood trickled from his mouth. No, this is not the worst he's had.

"Tech told me that he records almost everything." Omega chirps up, a hesitance to her voice as she tries to mask her interest.

He snorts, amused. "It's an obsession."

"Do you think...? Would he mind...?"

Hunter's lips quirk up a little, and he reaches for the nearest table, where his brother's datapad rests. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind." He hands it to Omega. "Here."

She smiles, eagerly powers on the device.

Hunter helps show her where Tech's recordings are stashed.

They're organized by date and mission, as only Tech would do.

"What's that?" They're in their bunkroom on Kamino, an adolescent Hunter looking at the recording device with interest.

"A recorder. Hopefully. If it works." The higher-pitch of Tech's voice comes through. "I'm in the process of testing it."

"Point it at me!" The boisterous voice that can only belong to Wrecker insists.

Tech obeys, revealing a haired, unscarred young Wrecker. "It sees whatever I am looking at."

"Wrecker had hair?" Omega looks surprised.

Hunter laughs. "Yeah, he did."

Crosshair's sneering at some regs in passing.

Tech's trying to drag him away, exasperated. "Leave it, Crosshair. Please don't antagonize them."

"Scared, Goggles?" A reg jeers.

The display angle tilts with the engineer's head. "You wish."

"Were the regular clones always mean to you?"

"Every day, kid. But they didn't attack as often when we stuck together." He says. "They liked to pick on Tech in particular, because he's smaller. That's how I met him, actually. Chased them away from him."

Her eyes grow sad, and Hunter decides to continue to the next clip.

A dark something covers the recorder, but the sounds of battle are evident. Tech's gasping, struggling against something.

Then, suddenly, the camera's unblocked, and the training grounds are spinning as the goggles are flung through the air. The screen settles, picking up tan and black-armored feet alike. A pair of white-armored feet stumble into view, then a set of lower legs join them as Tech collapses.

There's a muffled exchange between Wrecker and Tech, a foot almost stomps down on the goggles and recorder set.

A moment later, a hand latches onto the goggles, lifts them up. Crosshair's frustrated face is visible through the visor of his training helmet.

"What's wrong with him?" Omega asks.

"That was when we first met him. He didn't really know any of us, didn't know Tech needs his goggles to see. He wasn't happy that Tech was trying to stay out of the fight."

"What did he say when he found out?"

"Nothing." He tells her. When her eyes widen, he adds,"He and Tech don't know how to deal with emotions as well as the rest of us. It makes them nervous. Especially Tech."

"Is that why he goes into the cockpit when I'm upset?" She frowns. "Because he doesn't know what to do?"

Hunter gives a hesitant nod in response. "He tries to stay away from what he doesn't understand, because he's afraid of not knowing things. Thinks he's supposed to know everything, and he closes himself off when he can't offer any help."

Tech comes to at the sound of Wrecker shrieking. He jolts violently, alarm flaring in his bruised chest, then groans as he aggravates his wounds. His head pounds- but when does it not?

"What-" He clears his throat, trying to gather his bearings. "What's happening?"

"He's awake!" Omega chirps happily, her blurred face popping into view.

"Is Wrecker alright?" He frowns, the girl's cheerfulness not matching up with the noises that he'd heard his second eldest brother make.

"What?" Hunter's voice reaches his ears, confused before realization hits it, a huff of amusement sounding. "He's fine. Omega and I were looking at some files on your datapad."

"Oh." Tech relaxes, internally rolls his eyes at himself. Always assuming the worst.

"How you feeling?" His brother asks.

He manages to lift his head enough to catch a glance at his bruise-strewn torso, winces at the sight before he lays back again. "About as bad as it appears to be, I'm afraid."

"How many times do I have to tell you-"

"-not to be as reckless as Wrecker?" He guesses, having heard the phrase dozens of times. He grimaces as he forces himself to sit up, slides off the operating table. His legs are as strong as ever. "I know, Hunter. Sometimes it may seem like it, but I do not have a death wish."

"Where are you going?" Omega inquires, as he grabs his goggles.

"Well-" Tech abruptly halts, hisses through his teeth as the straps on his goggles press in on a bruise he hadn't yet realized crossed his face. His vision, though it clears, is briefly swimming in black spots. "...Lovely."

"You alright?" Hunter presses, firmer than before.

"It does not hurt as much as the time you punched me." He assures him. "I will be fine."

"Hunter punched you?"

"...I was trying to hit Crosshair." The sergeant scowls, mouth twisting in annoyance at whatever guilt accompanies the memory.

"A story for another time." Tech changes the subject. "I am going to speak with Echo. Perhaps he can catch me up on what repairs still need to be completed."

He doesn't bother trying to dress properly, knows it'll hurt more than it's worth.

Later, he shows Omega some more of the recordings on his datapad.