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It had been four days.
Hunter leaned against the side of the cell, the metal cuffs on his wrists chaffing the already raw skin. He had been leaning against this wall for the better part of the day, trying to conserve his energy and strength. Their captors hadn’t been feeding them, an attempt to break their spirits, he was sure. The lack of food was really starting to get to him now, he had a constant ache in his stomach and he hadn’t been able to get any rest last night. Clones lived an active lifestyle, and thus they needed a higher amount of calories to keep them going. Hunter had, at most, gone a day and a half without eating anything.
In the cell across from him sat Echo, stripped of his prosthetic arm and any kind of tools or weapons he had on him. Echo was lying down right now, recovering from whatever torture he’d been put through today. His sides sometimes faltered, and Hunter sincerely hoped his squadmate wasn’t getting sick or had an infection. Illness hit Echo hard, and he didn’t need any extra suffering.
His stomach growled, as it did most of the time. It had started to eat away at his fat reserves, but he had little to give. Soon, his body would start to cannibalize his muscle tissue, and then it would be all over. He rested a hand on his stomach, mentally willing it to stop making noise. His heightened hearing and already agitated state meant that any sound was louder than it should be and it pissed him off.
Slumping down, he tried to force himself to go to sleep. He lay there with his eyes closed, staring at the darkness behind his eyes. Sleep danced around him teasingly, darting in close and then prancing back. After about half an hour of listening to his own breathing and the sound of his stomach acid eating away at his stomach’s mucus layer, he decided that sleep wouldn’t be coming to him tonight.
Rolling over onto his side, he pressed his face against the cold stone. They’d come for him soon, he figured. At least that meant that he’d get water afterwards. They obviously wanted to keep them alive, although Hunter wasn’t quite sure how long their captors’ patience would last. They wanted information on how cloning was done on Kamino, and no matter how many times both he and Echo tried to explain that they didn’t really know, the aliens didn’t believe them. He’d been beaten, electrocuted, waterboarded, and, of course, starved, yet he couldn’t say anything that would make it stop. Of course, he wouldn’t say anything even if he did know, but it would have given him a sense of control if he’d had the choice.
He growled and pressed his head into his arm, angry at himself for being caught. He’d been out scouting with Echo while the others stayed with Omega on the ship. She was still recovering from her brush with an icy death from a few weeks ago, and had been happy for the company. Pillow, her ever loyal guardian, had opted to stand guard at the door, ready to aggressively honk at anyone who tried to remove him.
He’d just vaulted a rocky outcropping when he heard it. A quiet whizz that would have been imperceptible to anyone else. He’d looked for the source, but couldn’t see anything. Feeling cautious, he’d tried to com Echo, but had received no reply. That had solidified the idea that something was wrong in his head, and he had quickly started making his way towards Echo’s location. He’d just been reaching up to com Tech and Wrecker when a sharp prick of pain had appeared on the back of his neck. Suddenly, his legs no longer supported him, and he had hit the dusty dirt hard. His vision had swum, and he couldn’t feel his limbs. The last thing he remembered was seeing Echo’s prone form being dragged by an armoured humanoid that he couldn’t see the face of.
Then he had woken up in this dark hellhole, incredibly sore and wishing he had eaten breakfast.
The sound of footsteps made him sit up. He grumbled angrily as he waited to be taken away, his tired mind pounding inside his skull. The complete lack of food and pathetic amount of water he was given to drink was almost certainly slowly killing him, and he refused to go out like that. He’d rather be shot than slowly waste away.
As the cage door slid open, he contemplated rushing the man that had come to drag him into the interrogation room. His arms and legs ached a the mere thought, and he was once again reminded of his weakened state, and a fresh wave of irritation rippled through him. He should have attacked his captors the first chance he got, but he’d been waiting for a better opportunity. That, it seemed, had been a mistake on his part.
The man roughly grabbed his arm, yanking Hunter to his feet and shoving him out the door. The room swam slightly, and he wobbled a bit. He grit his teeth, frustrated. Damn this place. Damn these people for making him so weak by simply doing nothing.
His ribs stuck out now, and it hurt to lie on his stomach. It hurt to lie on his back and side as well, but it hurt more to lie on his stomach. He was curled up in the corner, far away from the cell door. He listened to his own breathing as he simply existed in the darkness. It was slower now, strained too. His body was giving out, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Their captors hadn’t come in today, perhaps they’d given up and were now just waiting for him to expire.
He wondered what death was like. Was it dreamlike, full of the spirits of his friends and brothers who had already crossed death’s vale? Or was it like sleep, dark and empty, but you didn’t know it because you were asleep. He almost hopped it was the latter, he wasn’t sure he could look his brothers in the eye after what they’d done. What they’d been made to do.
He wished he wasn’t alone.
Clones did poorly in prolonged isolation, as did any social creature. Sometimes, he wondered if the loneliness affected them more because they had always been raised alongside their squadmates. Their bonds allowed them to work harmoniously, which helped keep them alive. He always slept better when his brothers were around.
He really wished he wasn’t alone.
Hunter did not want to die here, but if he had too, if this was it, couldn’t he at least have some company?
…
Beyond the boundaries of his cage, something exploded.
The loud noise shocked Hunter back into a state of semi-alertness, and he stared wide eyed at the cloud of dust that now filled the room. As the dust settled, he saw the body of one of his captors, the one that had delighted in electrocuting him. He lay there, unmoving.
Dead.
The hulking figure of Wrecker stepped into the dimly lit area, Tech not far behind him. The two made eye contact with him, he could tell, even if they had their helmets on.
Hunter smiled, then promptly passed out.
When Hunter awoke, it was not on the stone floor of his cell.
The material beneath him was soft, and it felt utterly divine on his poor abused back. The room was lit with a soft yellow light, washing the pristine white walls in a golden glow. A comfortable pillow was tucked behind his head, and he could feel the ache in his neck begin to melt away. A twitch of his wrist revealed an IV drip had been attached to him, which explained why he no longer felt like he was on the verge of death. But… what was that weight on his chest?
“Honk.”
Hunter’s eyes landed on the fat little salamander that was resting on his chest. Pillow blinked at Hunter, his round eyes shining in the light.
“You sir,” Hunter croaked, feeling a bit loopy, “are spectacularly round.”
“Honk.”
“It’s true.” He replied. “You are a pudgy boy.”
“Hunter?”
Omega’s voice pulled him from his riveting conversation, and he coughed a bit when he felt her arms wrap around his neck.
“You’re awake!” She cried, still sounding a little raspy herself.
Pillow slid off the bed as the rest of the Bad Batch, sans Echo, awoke. They had been sitting in some rather uncomfortable hospital chairs for some time now, waiting for their leader to awaken.
“Hey hey, look who’s finally up!” Wrecker said, grinning.
“Wrecker,” Hunter said, smiling as he looked at the relieved faces of his brothers, “Tech, how long have I been out?”
“Two days. The damage your body received, both from those sniveling scumbags and from itself, took a while to fix. You’ve been hooked up to that IV ever since we brought you and Echo here.” Tech said.
Hunter sat up, taking Omega with him. “Echo! Where is he? Is he alright?” He questioned, moving to get out of bed. Tech and Wrecker both reached forward and stopped him, gently pushing him back down.
“Echo’s fine, he’s just resting right now. He’s in the next room over.” Omega said quickly, releasing Hunter from her death grip.
Hunter visibly relaxed, exhaling. He looked around the room, his senses coming back to him a bit. They were muted, and in that moment that was a blessing, as he didn’t know if he could stand to just sit in a room and listen to the sounds of his body.
“Where are we?” He asked. They obviously were not on the ship, so they had to be at a medical centre of some sort.
“We’re at the same medical centre we took Omega to. This was the closest one we knew that would be safe to take you and Echo to.” Tech said. “We were… very worried that you wouldn’t make it.”
“Well I did, and so did Echo. We’re gonna be just fine.” Hunter reassured them.
“We shoulda been faster. If we had just found a way in sooner, you wouldn’t have been so hurt.” Wrecker said, crossing his arms. Both Tech and Omega looked away as well, guilt written all over their faces. Hunter frowned.
“Hey now, none of that. You saved us, that’s all that matters.” He said as firmly as he could, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Pillow honked from his place on the floor, seemingly in agreement.
“See, Pillow gets it, don’t you buddy?” Hunter smiled, tilting his head to the side to look at the salamander.
“Buddy? I thought you didn’t like Pillow?” Wrecker asked, confused.
“I never said that. Besides, just look at him.” Pillow blinked up at them, unsure as to why he was receiving attention from all of them. “How could you not get along with such a cute little marshmallow?”
“Marshmallow?” Omega questioned, looking at Tech and Wrecker. Wrecker shrugged while Tech’s eyes drifted over towards the IV.
“Hmm, must be a higher dose than I thought. Usually painkillers don’t affect him this much.” He said, looking back at his usually stone-faced squad leader stretching his hand down to rub Pillow’s head.
“Hehe, look at those wrinkles.” He chuckled softly.
“Definitely a higher dose.” Tech laughed.