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You’d think the hardest part about nearly dying was coming to terms with your brush with death.
How your body had been so prepared to accept the Reapers embrace that now being denied it, or escaping it, leaves you feeling more hollow than relieved.
At least for Tech that is.
It’s not that he wanted to die or anything.
More like he was willing to accept it for the betterment of his family.
But they were alright, hell better than alright now. They’d retrieved a part of them that had been removed for so long they weren’t even able to notice how much pain they were in until it was returned to them.
At least to Tech’s perception.
He and Crosshair had always been close, so his loss was particularly painful for him. Though he was well aware he wasn’t good at showing it.
However, if there was a less– arduous way of retrieving him he would have taken it.
Currently he found himself in the one place he couldn’t feel the aches and pains of movement that came with his usual daily actions, his bunk.
Laid out flat taking in slow, shaky, breaths trying to focus himself.
Cold boney claws running along his spine as it coils and recoils at the slightest brush of wind.
The sensation of the pricking of needles and knives coming in and out of his flesh, taking bits and pieces of him away from his original form, until with each motion a little bit more of him was bound back together.
Drugs being pumped into his veins over and over again just to keep the pain from being completely unbearable, but never enough to completely dull the vial sensation it elicited.
Punishment for defying that same Empire.
For choosing his family and those he cared about rather than the cold hollow promises that were seemingly whispered in each and every clone’s ear.
But he could understand it.
The stability, monotony, and no fear that came with it was crystal clear from the beginning once it became clear that troopers were starting to choose which path they were taking.
Crosshair only stayed because of those things, at least that’s what Tech told himself time and time again when late at night his thoughts would begin to wander.
They were reasonable things.
Just diluted down due to circumstance and who the benefactor happened to be.
Though if the clones knew the punishment for defecting– maybe they would postpone any plans.
However, things may have been skewed due to his extenuating situation.
After all, when you go directly against the Empire as he and his family did, you were bound to encourage their wrath.
That wrath being put into extending his life, providing him with the means to recovery, and then breaking what they’d given back to him. A naive attempt to build a brand new wave of enforces.
The new commandos working behind the ranks of the Stormtroopers to ensure that the Empire’s new grip on the galaxy was iron tight.
Clones had been created to be soldiers, so it was better to keep using them for that purpose rather than waste them in civilian life.
And it was an especially good way to find use in the prisoners that otherwise would just be rotting away sapping up money needed for reinforcing that new Empire.
These were the things Tech had decided to take solace in when melt was forced up against his skin. Drilling and grinding following suit, restraints being the one thing to keep him down.
His screams, though, could echo and reverberate through the callus halls of the far off hidden prison. Sometimes he’d think he could make out a second or third joining him in a choir of agony as different troopers went through different procedures.
Theirs, however, were most likely unnecessary.
He owed everything to the Empire.
They saved his life.
Gave him the best care they could offer a traitor.
All in the name of science and experimentation, and with the added bonus of easy torture.
It was insane, yet at the same time the reality he was having to cope with now.
Another part of why he would just lay there.
Pain, of course, was grinding against his insides, but the pure existential horror of the very people he fought against giving him his second chance at life.
Truly sick.
Balling his fists with a huff, noting the clicking and clacking of metal that came with it he begins to prop himself up before falling back onto the mattress hard. His elbows aching too much to gain any real ground without unnecessary pain.
Not like he’d be allowed to do anything even if he did manage it.
Then he’d be met with the fussing and concern of the rest of the Batch.
Wrecker and Echo were manageable, the opposite of each other Wrecker was very open and obvious with his concern while Echo was subdued and quiet, along with Omega since she could only really sure her worry in the way a young child could, but it was Hunter and Crosshair that were the most tedious to handle.
Hunter was expected, he was could easily fall into over barring with the amount of concern he could show towards those within his family unit. And as such Tech had anticipated it once he’d been returned back to said unit, but it was Crosshair who was the most surprising.
Considering all that had happened now his sudden turn made sense with what he’d read in his file for why he was put under Hemlock’s care, however it still came off as a drastic change in his character to be as attentive as he was for Tech’s every need.
Perhaps it was a means to make up for how his betrayal had cut so deep into the heart of the very essence of Clone Force 99. How he’d fractured them in a way that would take years to heal and left emotional scars, and physical scars in some cases, on all of them for it.
Or maybe he couldn’t get the agonized wails of his vod out of his head whenever he saw him. Leaving him with only one way to possibly begin removing them, help in anyway he can.
“If you need anything I can always get it for you.” That familiar voice rasps from the entranceway.
Tech’s eyes dart over to meet where his younger brother was standing. His arms crossed leaning against the door frame with a solemn expression on his face. Toothpick clasped between his teeth he appeared to be considering something, but just not willing to say what it was.
“Thank you for the offer but at the moment assistance is not needed.”
Letting out a small, surprising, chuckle Crosshair cocks an eyebrow at that one. “That so? Well then why don’t you come over here and stand next to me then.”
Tech’s usual neutral expression quickly changes into a rather dark perturbed one at his brother’s obvious ploy. Clearly he still was not hesitating to show off that snap he’d been known for before all this unfortunate business.
Attempting to do just what his brother obviously had suggested expecting him not to fulfill he only makes it to where he was at before, propping himself up until he’s sitting with his hands, but can’t move his legs without having to hold down a whimper or two.
“Well?” He adds, a knowing smirk on his face as he moves the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other.
“Funny, glad to see your sense of humor has remained largely intact.” Tech huffs out in reply as he lets his body flop back down instead of forcing what clearly was not going to happen. Letting out a heavy sigh he closes his eyes and tries to just ignore his brother. No longer in the mood ot be dealing with his antics even if they were trying to somehow bring him some comfort. Though he couldn’t see how that was possible if they were just reminding him how helpless he’d been rendered.
So much of what once was his life now too far away for him to even reach, let alone be able to fulfill the complex work needed to finish them. Studying and tinkering being two of the biggest he saw no real clear way in being able to continue without heavily compromising himself in regards to pain, and he just wasn’t sure if they were important enough to him to put himself through agony over and over again. At least when he had to think about it.
“I didn’t mean anything by it, Tech.”
At that Tech groans, great he couldn’t seem to get the memo. He’d been better about reading ques before in these situations, but maybe because his temper was running short he wasn’t willing to give up.
“Just think it’s better if you admit to yourself now that you’re gonna need help through all this.”
“I have the faculties to take care of myself, Crosshair,” he harshly replies, “I don’t see why I should need any of you all’s help beyond the early stages of dealing with this issue. The Empire clearly saw it as necessarily to outfit me with the perfect frame to be able to keep my body working, so there should be no issue.”
“Look at Echo,” Cross starts, not even bothering to try and argue with the clearly absurd claim his brother was making. “He was in a lot of the same shape as you right now, we all know this, but he still struggles with things. I mean we have to help him keep up maintenance on his arm when it grinds too hard against his skin. His body may function like it should, but he still needs help with things. You remember when he first got out how many tests you ran on him to make a perfect maintenance plan for him so that there would be no risk of him falling into disrepair.”
Tech opens his eyes at that, because he couldn’t ignore how right his vod was.
Of course this was just like Echo.
And of course he was able to make life work for him.
But he did need help in some areas, especially in the beginning. Things got better, easier, for him with time, practice, and planning.
That’s just what he needed.
He just needed to take the first step in that direction.
“So, is assistance still not needed?” Cross finally asks, his eyes trained carefully on Tech to note even the slightest of change in expression. His own having lost the smirk in favor of attentive care being plastered all over it. The opening of his eyes already portraying a level of thought not fit of trying to push the issue away.
He was listening now.
Maybe even willing to accept the hand that was being held out towards him.
“On the contrary, it just occurred to me that I would like to go to the cockpit today. Make sure all the systems have been running smoothly without my presence, I’m sure you understand.”
A small smile slips onto Cross’s face as he promptly strides over to his older brother and takes ahold of his legs. Hooking one arm under them and the other onto his shoulders until he was draped in his arms.
“I do, and that can easily be done.”
Wrapping his own arms around Crosshair’s neck Tech swallows nervously as the sensation of foreign skin against the smooth melt boring into his flesh comes off as strange. The respirators the mechanism was connected to sending messages to his brain but seemingly being muffled due to the way they’d been set up.
Something to eventually fix about the Empire had gone about repairing him, though there were a lot of things he’d personally changed if he’d had control over the whole procedure.
“Comfortable?” Crosshair cuts in as schematics already begin taking shape in his mind.
“Ah- yes. Giving the circumstances I’d say I am as comfortable as I can be.”
Cross’s expression slips back into something more solemn at that remark.
“But it can be fixed.” Tech attempts to comfort, not wishing his brother to dwell on what could no longer be changed now that things were starting to get better.
“Right, you’ll get everything all situated soon.”
“I will.” He assures offering his best smile despite the ache it sent through his body.
Seeming to be appeased by this Cross turns back towards the door and starts to walk out of it.
With each step simultaneously moving closer to the road to recovering.
It would take a lot more than this, sure, but it was still getting underway.
And what more could you want?