The Bad Batch: One Shot Collection

Whumpay Day Sixteen: Presumed Dead/"You're Scaring Me"

Author's Note: What –

Warning: Read at your own risk. Oh – also, a brief mention of self-harming. Implied/mentioned past rape/non-con.

~ Rivana Rita

The Bad Batch frees Hunter on Kamino, and they leave together. But some things are hard to forget or let go of. (Imperial Hunter AU)

His brothers are taking their armor off for the night. Hunter feels compelled to do the same. He's still in his Imperial armor. He wants to get out of it, to reclaim his own. He doesn't want to take it off. He – he doesn't want to...

Doesn't feel like he deserves it anymore. Like he can wear it.

He and Crosshair used to sleep beside each other all the time. Frequently, anyway. They used to. They...

It's strange to be back. He should feel safer than he does. Hunter settles down on one of the racks, laying on his side, opting to just ignore how his armor is digging uncomfortably into him all over. It's very, very uncomfortable, but he doesn't care. He doesn't... want it off right now. He's safer with it on.

Crosshair climbs onto it beside him, curling up against his chest. It's familiar. His warmth is familiar and comfortable. He still smells like foggy smoke, and Hunter inhales deeply. He rolls a bit closer, pressing up against him.

They've done this before they've done this before they'vedonethisbefore –

Hunter tries to even out his breathing and closes his eyes. It's hard. Everything's hard.

Crosshair shifts over, lightly pressing his hand to Hunter's chestplate. He can feel it without even looking. "You okay?" he asks finally.

No .

His skin's crawling at the closeness, which is stupid, because he doesn't want to be alone. He feels hot and cold all over, tension prickling down his spine. It's ridiculous. He's with his brothers again. He doesn't have to be afraid of them hurting him, of them forcing him to do something he isn't... comfortable with.

Okay.

That's not totally true.

They did forcibly take his chip out, but – but it's fine. They just wanted him back, and it didn't matter if he wasn't wholly appreciative at the time. It's fine. It's fine. Everything's fine. He's safe, and his brothers are safe, and he doesn't have anything to worry about.

Hunter sighs. Doesn't look at him. Can't. He turns his head away a bit, looking up at the ceiling.

"We're fine," Crosshair points out, "You're not going to hurt us."

He can trust his mind now, maybe, but it still doesn't feel like he can trust anything. Or anyone. He feels wrong in his own skin, like something ripped out everything inside him and mushed it together with at least three dozen things in the wrong place. "That's not what I'm worried about."

"Then stop brooding," his little brother grumbles, squirming around some more. He's poking Hunter's side repeatedly, in the way he usually does if he's desperate for attention, but Hunter just really, really does not want to be touched right now. He doesn't want... anything.

Okay, that's not true. He wants this past month to just not have happened.

He feels so wrong and dirty and out of place and just – just nothing.

He hurt his brothers, and they hurt him.

He hurt people.

He was hurt.