I Never Thought You'd Slip Away

July 15th, 2021: "I've got the next few entries outlined, so it shouldn't take a few months before I update again!"

November 28th, 2021: *coughs* Um, I'm here now?

Another few months later, another installment to the story of Spark Squad. I'm sorry for taking this long (again), but writer's block and life really sucks. Those are my only excuses this time.

The title comes from a line from the song, "The Crow and the Butterfly" by Shinedown. My updates may not be consistent, but at least my love of Shinedown is. :)

I can't think of anything else and I'm exhausted, so please enjoy! I'm not gonna make the mistake of promising updates again, so just stay on the look-out for the eighth part! Thank you for reading! <3

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In the aftermath of losing Duke, the silence of Morale's pod had been like one of the Kaminoan holding cells. Isolated, quiet, and cramped, Morale had hated being in there. It had suffocated him, overwhelming him with the force of his guilt. Originally, sneaking out to train had helped, until he had become exhausted and Sketch had caught on, making him promise to slow down.

No one could say that Morale wasn't a man of his word and, nearly ten months later, Morale's relationship with his pod had improved. Instead of making him feel claustrophobic, it now was a great place to think in the middle of his sleep cycle. More often than not, Morale found himself thinking about the newest addition to Spark Squad.

After four months with him, Morale had mixed feelings about 43.

On one hand, he didn't interact with the newest squad member outside of training that much. 43 didn't make it easy to interact with him; he was mostly quiet, kept his head down, made his words and phrases short and cold, stared at the other four members of Spark Squad with an undecipherable look in his eyes, and the only time his impeccable composure broke is when someone got too close to him.

One time, Morale had smiled at him and told him he'd done a good job in training. 43 had looked at him like he'd never heard a word of praise directed towards him in his life.

On the other hand, those interactions during training were enough to get another kind read on 43. Initially, he mostly kept to himself, but being cooperative enough if they had to do a simulation together. He displayed utter obedience to the trainers and Kaminoans, even towards Sketch depending on the day. Some days, it was easy to believe he was as lifeless as a droid. However, as the months had slowly passed, 43 began to show signs of emotions other than fear and obedience. After their squad had successfully completed a training exercise just a few days ago, 43 had joined them in while celebrating their victory.

Despite their lack of closeness, Morale was happy to see his newest squad member settling in. As 43 started to relax around them, Morale could no longer ignore the similarities between 43 and Duke.

43 watched over them the same way Duke had in training simulations. His gaze was almost always paranoid and straying towards Sketch and Ghost, the same way Duke's always had. 43 was now the best at using DC-17's in their squad, much like Duke had previously been and used the same movements Duke had, that practically demanded that he be paid attention to. While originally hesitant, 43's fighting style had become more like Duke's frustration-inducing and teasing style everyday. 43 no longer kept his hair cut at exactly regulation-length like Sketch; it was now the same length as Duke's hair had been but styled a bit differently.

The biggest similarity, the one that had caused alarm bells to start echoing throughout Morale's head, had been observed just a few days ago during a training simulation. Ghost had been struggling, which drew the attention of everyone around them. Morale's most introverted brother had always disliked being the center of attention and this was simply making his performance worse. Eventually, their trainer had come over and had gotten a little bit too close to Ghost. Morale hadn't heard a word exchanged between them, but he had certainly seen the hand that had stroked Ghost's shoulder-length, wavy hair. He had seen the way Ghost had stiffened and the hands behind his back were shaking. By chance, he had looked away and his gaze landed on 43. The newest squad member's gaze had been filled with utter hatred, the same fire in his eyes as Duke had had when he stood between their trainer and Morale.