Prologue
Plot: They are Jedi. They are clones. But more than that, they're Clone Force 99, and that is the most important thing in their lives. Until Order 66, when Crosshair turns on them for reasons they can't understand. And then Hunter starts dreaming of a little girl who is calling to him, begging for his help. Omega is their sister, and they won't leave her to die at Crosshair's hands.
Author's Note: Somebody to You by Banners really fits Hunter in here. -~- (Because sometimes, you're so desperate for love, you'll take it in whatever form it comes in, no matter how twisted it might be.)
This is for the square "Jedi AU" on the Bad Batch Bingo, and the fanart on the front cover was made by me. Updates will be weekly on Friday. :D
WARNING: Depression, child abuse, mild violence
~ Rivana Rita
He wants to cry. Or scream. Or throw up. Preferably, all of the above. Not stand here and listen to the Council's "you did the right thing" lecture. Master Windu's to be precise. As if this is something he could actually understand somehow. It's not. Never could be.
No one could understand what it feels like. Not them, anyway.
Never them.
Hunter's eight. This was his first kill.
His master was his first kill.
What does that make him?
And the Council just says that was the right thing to do.
Which, yeah, Hunter knows it was. He doesn't doubt it. They had no other choice.
He's only been a Jedi for two years. That's not long enough to know their way, to know what he's doing, but here he is. Apparently, the fact that he killed his master for turning to the Dark Side means he knows what he's doing.
Apparently.
And means they're going to Knight him and... oh, yeah, they're not doing it because they believe in him. Hunter doesn't blame them a shred for any of that. The Council didn't want them in the first place, but they came, anyway. They didn't want their relationship with each other. Said they were too attached.
They're a tetrad, though, and it's not something they can help. Their souls are bound together forever. They are one, and with the war, the Council didn't want their abilities to go to waste.
No, they're Knighting him because their master is dead, and there's no one else who would be willing to take care of them. Maybe they just don't trust him with having another master.
Hunter certainly doesn't.
What matters is that they get to stick together. He'll get to stay with his brothers, anyway, because they're still padawans – like he should be – and they're... in his charge now.
He didn't notice their master's Fall, didn't see him killing any of the regs they worked with.
He did care about them, though. At least, they would like to think he did. Hunter saw it in his eyes. But, you know, that was seconds before Hunter stabbed him through the heart.
He's only been a Jedi for two years. He's not ready to be a Knight yet. He hardly even understands what it means.
Hunter still feels numb when he walks out of the chambers. His brothers are waiting around, like they always are.
Crosshair slides his hand into Hunter's squeezing lightly. None of them ask if he's okay. He almost wishes they would, but really? He'd be more upset if they did. None of them are, and he doesn't really know how they could be.
It's stupid, really. They don't need anyone else. They just have each other. They've only ever had each other. They're four, and they're one, and they don't need anyone else to survive.
"I'm not calling you master," Crosshair says as Tech takes up his place at Hunter's right. Wrecker's in the back, quiet as ever. The atmosphere over them is heavy, but it's easiest not to talk about it. Not to think about it.
"Wasn't gonna ask you to." That's – that word has a very bad meaning to them now. "I don't want you to call anyone else that."
"I'm still not getting a braid."
"Me either," Wrecker agrees, shuddering.
The fights they had with their old master about that were insane. "Being a Jedi is about sacrifice," he always insisted, with a long explanation about why something like that is unimportant. But he couldn't understand, either, because he's not a clone.
He wasn't picked up off Kamino at six because he was Force-sensitive, taken from the only life he'd known.
"I fail to see how that is important," Tech replies.
A joke it might be, but it hurts more than anything else. Hunter never wanted them to have to do anything. Would never force them to do something they're not comfortable with. He's not... like him.
The walk to their room is long. Too long. Quiet. Lonely, but they're together. That's what counts, Hunter keeps telling himself, but the aching emptiness in his heart doesn't get any better.
Their room is... it is. It's Hunter's room, actually, and he hates that, too. They shouldn't have their own rooms. He misses the days they just had one, even if they always stay in each other's, anyway. They always stay together. Usually, in Hunter's.
Hunter slides onto the floor, staring blankly at the wall. Crosshair and Tech sit down on either side of him. Wrecker loops an arm around Crosshair's shoulders and pulls him close.
Lula is hidden mostly under the tan blanket thrown haphazardly over Hunter's bed, keeping her mostly hidden. Jedi aren't supposed to have possessions. They break that rule like all others, but still. That doesn't mean they're blatant about it.
Staring at the same spot on the wall won't change anything.
He wants to cry. He didn't cry on Umbara. Hasn't wanted to since the last time Crosshair hit him, and that was for breaking up a brawl with Crosshair and Fives. They're Jedi. They're not supposed to do that, and Hunter told him so. The regs there didn't like them, didn't like Master Krell, and it was easier to show it on them.
They're padawans. They're clones. They're both, unlike everyone else. No one really likes them for either, except the General of the 501st, who wasn't on Umbara. At the time. Wrecker and Crosshair, predictably, fought back the entire time, and it was just more – more exhausting. They outrank the regs. They're all fighting for the same thing, and they're clones. Hunter understands what it means to not fight back against superiors, to... obey, even if he doesn't like it. That's how the regs are about them now, and Hunter doesn't want to pull that card. It's wrong. They don't need to fight with the regs, too. A battle on one front is nearly too much to handle. Crosshair hadn't been particularly appreciative of it.
"We're Jedi," Hunter had told him.
"I didn't ask to be," Crosshair had snarled back before shoving past him and storming out.
If he had a five-minute breakdown, well, no one needs to know.
"So, uh..." Wrecker speaks up finally, "What do we do now?"
He has no idea. "We'll be fine," Hunter supplies, "We made it out. We're still together."
He remembers how terrified he was when they came here, when he thought he might not see his brothers again. They did everything together, and they always have. They were never supposed to be apart from each other for anything. They're a squad. They're brothers. It never came that far. It could have, but it didn't.
He'll never forget when they were taken from Kamino. The Jedi that took them was arguing with the Kaminoans about it for what Hunter still thinks is an unreasonable length of time. They weren't done training, weren't supposed to leave, but they were Force-sensitive, and apparently, that means they're property of the Republic or Jedi or however in the galaxy that works.
Crosshair just looked grumpy about the whole conversation, Wrecker looked hopelessly lost – the whole thing went over his head, and Tech just looked hurt. Hunter was somewhere between appalled and angry. They're not property. They're people.
Two years later, and Hunter is still angry.
So much for 'letting go'.
"Hunter," Tech says, touching his arm, "You did the right thing."
Doesn't make it easier. "I know," he sighs.
Their master was going to get him, and all his brothers, killed. He couldn't stand by in silence. (But did he really have to die? Did he? Did –)
"Rex isn't so bad," Hunter says finally, because that's a safe topic.
He's never grieved anyone before. Doesn't really know how to handle it, and Jedi aren't supposed to get that attached to people. Though apparently, the Council decided that him killing his master to save his brothers means he's not attached. Which. Is frankly insulting. Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair are really the only people that matter to him.
Not that he doesn't care about others, but it's just... different.
Wrecker laughs. "Nor's Hardcase."
Crosshair rolls his eyes. "Speak for yourself."
Tech is still being quiet. Hasn't said anything since this... came up. He's never quiet. That's not who he is. Not with just the four of them. The only times he's talked since their master died was to snap at the others, and that's something very uncharacteristic of Tech. He only does that when he's hurt or angry.
Right now, he's both.
He's been quiet from the moment Krell stabbed him on Umbara. Hunter doesn't think he'll ever forget the gut-wrenching horror of watching the green blade run through his brother's shoulder, and it wasn't supposed to be fatal. It was just meant to slow him down. Long enough that their master could...
They attacked him when they realized he betrayed the Republic. The entire 501st had.
Krell wanted them to come with them.
Thought they'd still be loyal even if he hurt them, because they were clones.
Wrecker and Crosshair had lost it. They attacked him blindly while Hunter went to check on Tech. Hunter wishes he could stop remembering it, but it's stuck on a loop in his head.
"There's nothing any of us could have done," Hunter says, and yes, he's trying to convince himself, but mostly, he's trying to reassure his brothers. It's not something he's entirely sure they understand, either.
"Perhaps, if we had paid more attention, we would have noticed what he was doing in front of us a long time ago."
"Maybe," Hunter acknowledges, "But we – had no way to know. Anyone could've seen it."
"We're the ones who worked with him," Crosshair cuts in, and anything he's about to say falls flat. They're right.
Wrecker throws Hunter a worried look over Crosshair's head. Hunter glances at Tech again, laying a hand on his shoulder, though his tenseness doesn't fade at all. "No matter what Master Krell did, or didn't, do," Hunter adds, "We might not be able to trust the Jedi anymore – or anyone, but we can still trust each other." He's looking pointedly at Tech, who doesn't even respond.
Anymore feels like a stretch. He never did to begin with.
He should've noticed a long time ago, but even if he had, what could they have done? They're clones. No one would've believed them.
"Free will?" he remembers Crosshair saying some months ago, after they won a battle at the cost of half the company they worked with. "Who even gets that? Because it's not us."
"It's what we're fighting for," Hunter had told him, like that could actually help, but it's... the truth.
"Why are we fighting?" Crosshair had asked him.
His instincts said for fun, but they're Jedi now, and that's not something Jedi do. "Because that's what we were made for. It's what we believe in. And it's not my brothers being grumpy."
Crosshair kicked him for that, and oh, well, he deserved that, but really, what else could he have said? There's no real answer to it. Hunter's eight. He doesn't know everything. Doesn't have all the answers. Tries, but he doesn't – can't always be what his brothers need. That's becoming steadily more and more apparent, and he feels in over his head most of the time.
But Crosshair's right. They didn't have a choice in any of this. It'd be easier if they were still on Kamino, doing what they know. Wouldn't hurt so much, but if they hadn't stopped Krell before he turned on the Republic, there might not have been a Republic left to fight for.
Brooding about it changes nothing, but it still hurts.
They never had a choice about what the Kaminoans made them into, either. Hunter didn't want to be this, never wanted to be a one-of-a-kind something, but he didn't get that choice. He didn't want to be different.
"I miss Kamino," Crosshair mutters finally, and that he's willing to say that sets off a thousand more alarm bells.
Wrecker pulls Lula over with the Force, shoving her into Crosshair's arms. That he doesn't even argue it worries Hunter even more. It means he's too exhausted to fight anymore.
For that matter, so does the fact that he's still wearing his cloak, because Crosshair hates that thing more than almost anything, and no one has a clue why. (Tech likes his. So does Hunter.)
"We should get some rest," Hunter suggests finally, watching the way Crosshair is curled up against Wrecker, unmoving. He can be still for a long time, but this is different.
"That would be wise," Tech agrees, pushing himself to his feet. The light Jedi robes he wears now still look weird on him. Do on all of them, to be fair. Not wrong, though.
Wrecker and Crosshair shift around and lay down next to each other, Lula squeezed between them. They're clinging to each other, and Hunter can't tell if they're trying more to offer or take comfort from each other, but multitasking works well either way.
Tech drops Hunter's blanket over them, and yes, they're still on the floor, but that's the only place there's room for them all. The last time they tried dragging a snuggle-pile half onto the bed, Hunter rolled off onto Wrecker, and that was... chaotic.
Hunter tucks the blanket around them a little and tugging up the edge of it by Crosshair, throwing a glance at Tech. Tech slides in next to them, wrapping an arm around Crosshair's waist. Wrecker reaches back, squeezing his arm. Crosshair is curled up half on Wrecker, half beside him. Somehow, Crosshair inevitably ends up in the middle of these. That makes sense, though. He is their center. Hunter doesn't care what anyone says about that.
He shrugs off his cloak, because their blanket is way too small for all of them, and it's the best option.
The light tapping on the door startles all of them. No one ever comes here, but Hunter can sense a familiar burning presence without even needing to reach into the Force. Anakin.
"I'll see what he wants," Hunter says before anyone can move from their position. Umbara was tiring for them all, and Hunter thinks that's what they need most now – some rest. To just stop worrying about the war and all of it.
Wrecker makes a sound of acknowledgment, unmoving.
Hunter opens the door, stepping out into the hall. Anakin backs up, glancing past him, but he never says anything, no matter how affectionate he sees them being with each other. He's the only Jedi that's... different.
"I – I heard about what happened," Anakin says, arms crossed. The grief he feels is showing clearly in his eyes. The one thing Hunter likes about him is that he doesn't hide. He doesn't try to pretend he's calm. He's not afraid to show how he feels. He's open. "I'm sorry I left Umbara. I didn't know what he was doing. I should have."
He doesn't know how to have emotional conversations. Not unless it's with his brothers. "Any of us could have," he answers instead.
"That is true," Anakin agrees, "But you were left there, under his watch. Under his control. If – if there's anything you need me for, I'll help you."
Of course, he'd say that. Hunter wouldn't feel comfortable to ask, even if there was. "I'll remember that."
"I heard the Council Knighted you," Anakin adds, "Are you... alright with it?"
"It's what it is," Hunter shrugs, because really, what else can he say? "And I would rather not be assigned to anyone else." Doesn't even want to think about what it'd mean. About being away from his brothers. They never used to have to worry about that, but now, here they are, and it's lurking in the back of his mind at every given moment.
"I understand," the Knight promises him. "I know being a master isn't easy. Ahsoka certainly isn't easy, but it's still my duty to protect her. That's not unlike what you've always done for your brothers."
"We're not used to this life," Hunter admits, and it's a little too close to admitting weakness, but it's still the truth, and Anakin is always blunt with them. There's no reason they can't trust him, too. "On Kamino, we were just training, and now..."
"Being a Jedi is very, very different than being a soldier," Anakin agrees, "I was always a Jedi, until the war started. I didn't understand anything about war, about how to be a General, but we do what we have to, to survive. And that's... what I have to teach Ahsoka, too. That's all any of us can do. Sometimes, fighting isn't about winning. It's just about surviving."
Umbara doesn't feel like a win. It's their first mission that hasn't been. It was, technically, but to come back as empty as he feels, Hunter certainly doesn't think so. "It is," he agrees.
"I know you," Anakin says, meeting his eyes, "And I know you are strong enough to do whatever you have to, for them. It's not a weakness. Your brothers are what gives you strength."
"That's not what he ever told us. That's not what we're supposed to be."
"You're... different." His eyes are burning with the same fierce intensity that they always do.
As if Hunter could be anything other than different. As if he hadn't had a skull tattooed on his face just to mark him as different from the regs, because he doesn't want to be one of them. Isn't one of them.
Anakin doesn't say it like an insult, though.
"I know moving on will be hard," he continues, "But I believe you are capable. Of that, and of finding where you belong."
He doesn't believe in himself. Doesn't think he ever will, but maybe, hearing that someone else believes in him somehow makes it... better. Easier. It's what he needs to hear right now, even if it's not something Hunter exactly... understands. He failed his brothers. They could've been killed. Their master hurt them. He was supposed to take care of them, but he hurt them, and Hunter didn't see it coming a long time ago.
"Thank you," he says, a shred awkwardly. Should be awkward, because Anakin helped train him, but he can't... trust anyone anymore. Not so soon.
"How are your brothers taking it?" Anakin asks softly.
"They'll be fine." Eventually. Anakin had told him in the bit of their training that he'd done – he taught them to use their lightsabers – that to be a Jedi, they have to be resistant, adaptable, to keep pushing on. That they'd have to fight to survive.
And it's not like they have any other choice.
They'll have to let go, move on, keep fighting, because that's the only thing they have. That doesn't make it easy.
"I am the only one who will protect you," Krell had snarled, standing over them. Hunter is still crouching by Tech, hand on his shoulder, heart hammering as he looks up. The hurt and fury coiling inside him are burning, demanding to be let out. "I took care of you since you came to the Jedi."
"You never were a Jedi," Wrecker snarls back, pulling Crosshair to his feet. They're leaning a little on each other, glaring. They're panting, exhausted, but they're not stopping. They never stop. They wouldn't be Clone Force 99 – the Bad Batch – if they did.
"Who else would believe you?" Krell asks mockingly, turning around to face Hunter, "When you claim your master Fell to the Dark Side? The Jedi never wanted you. You were tools to them."
It's true, and that makes it hurt even more, sting even deeper, but right now, Hunter doesn't even care.
"As if we have ever been anything more to you," Tech snaps back, voice impressively steady.
"Would you not have defended yourselves if I attacked you?" he asks.
Tech glares back at him.
So does Hunter.
"You gave me no choice," he continues, "But I will overlook this. You have no place in the Republic or with the Jedi. You were made for a new order, a new power. One you can be a part of. I will show you the way. Everything I know about the Force."
"Go to hell," Crosshair snarls, lurching forwards. The blue of his and Wrecker's lightsabers throw an eerie glow out against the darkness of Umbara.
Wrecker spins his double-blade around again and as one, they charge again. They did before, second after Tech got stabbed, and he fought them off in minutes. They're in way over their heads here, and there's not much of a way out aside from surrender.
Something they cannot do.
Hunter reaches out, calling his lightsabers back to his hands and thumbs them on. He doesn't think. It's probably the first real time he ever has.
Hunter lunges at him, and Krell whips around, blade raising to block it.
The emerald blade slashes through the center of Krell's lightsaber, the other cutting through where his blade was a second ago, stabbing through his heart.
His master's eyes widen, and he falls. Hunter lands in front of him.
He looks stunned. Like he never thought they had a chance to beat him.
Others of the 501st are gathering around. Rex is here, or at least Hunter thinks he is, but he doesn't look away from Krell.
His hands touch Hunter's arm. He thinks he's trying to say something, but Hunter doesn't catch the meaning. His heart is hammering, and he stands there watching, as the light fades from their master's eyes.
"I am the only one who will protect you –"
"I took care of you –"
"– the Jedi never wanted you –"
Stop it. It's all over now. Doesn't matter what he said.
"Confronting the Dark Side is something we all struggle with eventually," Anakin says softly, "Sometimes, more than once. And it is never easy. We will always do things we will regret forever, but all we can do is move on and learn from our mistakes."
"Have you?" Hunter asks, a shred desperately.
He still misses him. What is wrong with him? Krell hurt his brothers. Why would Hunter miss him?
"My mother died," Anakin answers, avoiding his gaze. "She... was killed. I found her right before she died. I killed those responsible. I know it was not what I should have done, but I know they will never be there to hurt anyone else."
"I thought he was going to protect us. That's what he was supposed to do."
"I think he thought he was," Anakin replies, "That doesn't mean he was right."
To tell the truth, they aren't accepted among the Jedi any more than they ever have been anywhere else. It's – it's worse here. Here, he feels more pressured to not be himself. It's not under the threat of decommissioning. It feels more... On Kamino, the rules were never enforced. At the Temple, they are. "He did," Hunter confesses, "He didn't want us dead."
"The things we do for family," Anakin murmurs, "I was first taken to the Temple by my master's master. Qui-Gon was willing to take care of me when the Council never wanted to train me. He... he died in the battle of Naboo, just days after we met."
"But he wasn't like Master Krell." No one except his brothers can understand that. Hunter was supposed to protect them, but he failed. They all could've died there.
"Not at all," Anakin replies, "But I understand how hard it can be to trust people. Even the Jedi. To feel alone."
He's not nearly as rogue as Hunter's brothers are, but it's something. He would know, and Hunter trusts him. At least... to a point. "We'll be fine," Hunter supplies, hoping it will be true. Anakin never killed someone he... cared about, but it's still – it's something.
Anakin reaches out, touching his shoulder. There's a flicker of worry lingering in his eyes, but he doesn't object. "I know," he promises, "But no matter what's happened, you still are something to your brothers, and to me." His presence is burning, overwhelming, all-consuming, and it always is.
Hunter can see the fire he is in the Force burning in his mind, but it doesn't hurt. It's always here, steady and forever unyielding. It's what he needs right now.
"Thank you," Hunter says again.
"Being a master can be hard, though," Anakin warns, lips quirking into a smile. "Ahsoka is a living menace."
Hunter thinks, briefly, of trying to take care of his brothers on the fronts. Of the menaces they were when they were little, and that they still are, and he smiles back, though it's a little strained and tired. "They already are."
"Get some rest," Anakin advises, "You'll need it."
They stand in the hall a moment, just looking at each other, before they part ways. Anakin moves off down the hall, breaking into a light sprint – he's probably late for something and dropped by to check on them – and Hunter turns back to his room.
Wrecker and Crosshair are already sleeping, curled up around each other. Tech is still favoring his shoulder a bit – it was treated right away, though it was still bad, but he's already mostly sleeping.
Hunter maneuvers himself into the pile again, looping an arm around Tech. Wrecker shifts a bit, though he's already sleeping, grabbing his hand.
He still feels empty, and there's still a hole of emptiness in his heart that won't go away, but they'll... survive this.
They always have.
Or at least, so he tries telling himself.
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