1st Trip To Galaxys Edge Meant Special Headgear. Wish There Were More Occasions When This Sort Of Thing

1st trip to Galaxy’s edge meant special headgear. Wish there were more occasions when this sort of thing was appropriate 😜

This is so amazing! I need a print of this!

behold my masterpiece of the week, he's absolutely rabid

I love this so much! 🥰

You were not only an experience, but you were everything. Thank you for this amazing story, it means the galaxy to us! The Bad Batch journey will continue to live on, and they'll never be without an adventure. ❤️🪐

I love this! The Batch getting the life they deserve.

never the same

POV Hunter, no pairing

summary: While Omega is on a mission, Hunter realises that it never will be like the good old times again.

warnings: a lot of nostalgia

words: ~1410

a/n: hello there! this is it. the final fic for @summer-of-bad-batch. with that i fulfilled all 28 of the offered prompts, and i'm actually very proud of myself for that. this event definitely was one of my favorite adventures this year, and it definitely motivated me to write a lot more. thanks for hosting this! prompts: radio silence and "yeah, kid, we're fine."

MASTERLIST

SUMMER OF BAD BATCH MASTERLIST

"Still nothin'?" is the first thing Wrecker asks when he comes down the stairs in the morning.

He looks still a little rough from sleep, his shirt is wrinkled and his short, gray beard still manages to stand up in different directions.

A grin appears on Hunter's lips. The familiar sight of his brother in the mornings isn't anything he'd ever like to miss. Especially since he's finally able to sleep in a bed that is big and comfortable enough for the giant.

"Good morning to you, too," Hunter smiles and eats one of the delicious cookies Crosshair brought over a day ago. He'd never thought the former sniper would find a liking in baking sweet stuff, but here they are, and he's sure it's not the last reason his tummy got so soft in the last years.

But he wouldn't complain: Crosshair's food is tasty and he actually likes the sight of himself in the mirror like that.

"Mornin'..." Wrecker muffles and starts to brew himself some tea, looking at Hunter expectantly.

"No, didn't hear of them. But you know how it is - radio silence means no com chatter," Hunter unnecessarily explains.

Wrecker just rolls his eyes, but also picks up a cookie, already sighing at the taste before he even put it into his mouth.

"I know, I'm just worried," he admits, after chewing and swallowing down.

Oh, how familiar Hunter was with this feeling, too.

He's always worried about Omega. She'll forever be his baby sister who needs some kind of protection, but at the same time, he also knows he just can't always provide it for her.

Besides, she's all grown up now. He taught her everything he could. She can protect herself just fine.

"What do you think, how long will it be this time until we hear from her again?" Wrecker asks and Hunter just shrugs his shoulders. "Last time it was a week, before that a few hours. Could be anything between that and even longer," Hunter says, as if they haven't had that conversation several times now.

Wrecker sighs.

"It's just so... quiet without her. Boring," the big clone says, and a shadow of sadness crosses his face.

Hunter knew. He knew so well. First Crosshair moved out. He and his partner found a beautiful little home a few houses over, and even though Hunter was genuinely happy for his youngest brother, he already recognized how much more quiet the house was. How empty his place at the table was.

Then Omega tried to just sneak away a few years later. He knew her reasons, but he was still glad he could properly say goodbye to her.

And even though Crosshair was just a few houses over, and even though Omega sometimes visited and called in regularly, the house just felt empty, quiet, and boring.

He was so glad Wrecker was still by his side, even though he sometimes asked himself if his brother really was happy with their current situation.

But every time he asked him, Wrecker immediately got defensive and almost scared of Hunter leaving him, so he just kept that question for himself.

If Wrecker was ready or wanted to move on, he would.

"What's your plan for today?" Hunter asks him, and Wrecker thinks for a few seconds, before answering.

"I'll go and help Phee with some crates she has on her ship. She requested my help specifically," Wrecker grins and Hunter raises his eyebrows. Just like everyone's enhancements, Wrecker's also faded over the time. Of course, he is still a lot stronger than the average person, but Hunter knows his brother and his habit of overestimating himself too well.

At the same time, he knows Phee, and he immediately is sure she'll look after his brother, too. If he's being honest, he thinks she already packed the crates in a way that they aren't as heavy as they used to be. He's sure she could probably transport them herself, and just wants to make Wrecker happy.

"Sounds good. I'll probably go and help Shep. Some new arrivals landed tonight, and they need to get settled down," Hunter nods, taking a bite of another cookie.

"You remember today is Batch day?" Hunter asks, and Wrecker nods excitedly.

It's a weekly occasion, that they'll meet at the beach, in a bar, a restaurant or their houses and catch up with each other and spend time together.

Even though the three of them see each other often enough, they still decided to spare this one evening during the week to indulge in nostalgia and make it feel just like the old times.

They'd never miss the day, not for anything in this galaxy.

Wrecker and Hunter complete their morning routine, say goodbye to each other and try to fulfill their tasks as best as they could.

Hunter manages to help settle down about three new villagers. One of them was an elderly lady who smelled weirdly like dried fruit and old books, a man about his age with a small baby in his arms who cried the whole time, and a young woman, about thirty years old, who smiled at him weirdly, and said goodbye with a wink.

The day is over faster than he thinks and soon he's sitting in the living room of his and Wrecker's house. The latter one is stretched out over the couch, complaining about his aching back, and Crosshair is sitting next to them, irritating Wrecker even more.

Yeah, just like old times, he thinks and smiles to himself. Almost, at least.

It's in exact that moment, that his comm beeps. First one, then two times. Immediately, the other two stop bickering, and looking at Hunter expectantly.

When he takes out the small device and checks the callers ID, a small smile appears on his lips.

"It's Omega," he announces and Wrecker groans, relieved: "Finally!"

Hunter opens the com channel, while he and Crosshair try to move Wrecker upwards to a sitting position.

Well, it wouldn't be Wrecker if he was easy, right?

He starts laughing and just takes Crosshair and Hunter, pulling them down on him, pulling them close and huddles them close to each of his side.

"Oh, maker, are you okay?" Omega asks from Hunter's com, surely able to just see blurry forms and colors, due to Wrecker's unpredictable actions.

"Yeah, kid, we’re fine," Hunter says when they're finally able to look into her sister's face again. Omega jokingly rolls her eyes at his little "nickname" for her, but doesn't say anything about it. She's always going to be his kid in his heart, and she knows it.

"Oh, Omega! I missed ya!" Wrecker immediately exclaims and grins from ear to ear, his back pain already forgotten.

"I miss you, too," the young woman starts to smile and Hunter's heart warms just a little at that.

It's been so long since she's been here with them already.

"How was the mission?" Crosshair asks next, and Omega immediately starts talking about what they did and how they managed to pull some secret data out of an even more secret outpost and that most of them made it out unharmed.

When they each catch themselves up on what's going on and what happens around them on Pabu and in the Rebellion, all of them always have a huge smile on their face.

And even though it almost feels like the old times again, Hunter realizes one thing in this exact moment:

It doesn't matter how hard they try to make it work like the old times again. The bitter truth is - they can't. It will never be the same again. Too much happened, too much time passed, and too many people weren't here by their side anymore, who definitely deserved to be.

But what they can do is try to make it all worth it.

Live their lives how they're supposed to do. Be proud of what they've overcome and of what they figured out for themselves.

Be proud about what they did and what they made of it.

They still can enjoy the moments they have with each other and make the best of it.

Instead of trying to make old times again, they should start to look forward to the new ones.

There's still so much waiting for him, for them, and it would be a shame to miss out on that.

Even though it won't ever be the same again, it doesn't mean it's bad at all.

TAGLIST

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

Very new here and still trying to figure this out but wrote a mini Bad Batch story to try and fill the gaps in my head. Some mentions of grief and loss. Takes place after Season 2 finale. Hope you enjoy.

Hope

Hunter sat in the pilot seat of the Marauder, staring at the hypnotizing blue swirls of hyperspace as his brother, Wrecker, snored loudly from the back of the ship. The hum of the engine, the random clinks and bangs that were ever present background noise a few weeks ago were now so pronounced Hunter would occasionally flinch.

Even so, it was too quiet. Echo had stayed with them for a week or two, but suggested that Rex and his network would be the best shot at Intel that could lead them to Omega. Hunter understood his reasoning but Omega’s words rang in his ears whenever he thought about it.

“…but he’s not here. We’re meant to be a squad”.

They weren’t much of a squad anymore. With Crosshair lost to imperial custody, Omega kidnapped (again), Echo off with Rex and Tech…

Hunter ran his hands through his hair and over his face, stubbornly wiping at the tears that had formed at the thought of his lost brother. He looked to the copilots’ seat to see Tech’s goggles, lifelessly staring back at him.

They hadn’t known what to do with them at first. Wrecker had spent the first two days gingerly cradling them as he moved about the ship. When he finally put them down, in the pilots chair the three of them paused in silent tribute. They had since been moved to the copilot’s seat, always on watch. They couldn’t stay there forever; they all knew that. But it was as good a place as any for now.

Hunter let out a sigh and heard Wrecker grunt and roll over on the bunk. He was unprepared for what was next. Had been all along really. There were no leads, he had no strategy, they were flying but he didn’t really know why or where. Echo’s comms were infrequent at best. Whatever he and Rex were up to, it was time consuming, and he couldn’t help feeling like Omega should be the priority. She had to be.

Hunter had this buzzing in his brain that got louder whenever he thought of Omega, especially the last few days. This was the longest they had been apart since they took her off Kamino. The Marauder seemed so lifeless without her, like every sun in the galaxy had shut off at once. He missed her giggle, and how she hovered too close as he practiced twirling his knife and the way her legs dangled from the gunner mount as she snuggled with Lula. He looked back through the ship to the tooka doll slumped under Omega’s chair.

They had stopped to gather supplies and every time desperately asked around as if by some miracle she had passed through.

“Have you seen a young girl, blonde hair, wide, bright, amber eyes”. They were always asked who she was to them, and Hunter always struggled to answer. She was the youngest member of their squad, their sister technically, but what she really was to him got caught in his throat. It was a word that clones didn’t use, had no use for really… Daughter. That’s what he wanted to say. “She is my daughter, our daughter” but how do you explain that? Besides, he knew it was useless. Omega was lost to Hemlock’s secret base. There would be no trace on some random planet. He knew that but it didn’t stop him asking, every time.

 A button on the far side on the console trilled and Hunter leaned over and flicked it off more aggressively than was necessary. Echo should still be here. He thought glumly. If Echo were missing, Omega would stop at nothing to get him back. How could he leave her? Leave them?

Hunter stood up and kicked the console to his right. Sharp pain radiated from his foot and up his leg like electricity. Yeah, that’ll fix everything, he thought bitterly, a broken toe. He wanted to brake things. He wanted to rage. Where was a battle droid in need of dismembering when you wanted one? He closed his eyes and took a breath. He had to focus. He had to plan. There was no margin for error, or doubt, or pain. He had to push it all down and push all the fear away. Because that’s what it was. Fear.

He had lost Tech. That was on him. His plan, his squad, his loss. He was responsible. He had left Crosshair. That was on him too. What if he was dead now too? What if he never got a chance to make things right? Omega was taken from him, from them. She was a child. She was his responsibility, and he had failed her too.

There was nothing about war that scared him, had every scared him really. It’s what they were made for. He feared for his brothers’ safety from time to time but as the war went on and they pulled off one daring, insane mission after the next, even that didn’t cross his mind. Wrecker using his head as a battering ram, okay. Tech hacking a separatist ship when they were outnumbered thousands to one, sure. Crosshair taking out a Tactical droid for 12 clicks, easy. But since Kamino, since the Republic fell fear was gnawing at his chest and now. After everything that had happened, that feeling seemed like it would consume him completely. The crushing weight of the last few weeks, few years, came crashing down on to him.

His hands shook. His breath rattled deafeningly in his ears. Fat tears fell onto his bandaged arm and refused to stop. He didn’t know how long he stood there, hunched over the console, arm outstretched as though to catch him if he fell, as if he had any strength left.

Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to catch his breath, just when he thought he would die from his despair and utter hopelessness, he felt a shovel sized hand grab his shoulder and pull him into a suffocating bearhug.

 Even with enhanced hearing, Hunter hadn’t known Wrecker was there until he was on top of him. He was too consumed in his overwhelming grief to notice. His body was shutting down. He was giving up. Wrecker’s mountainous form engulfed him so completely he had to tap on his shoulder to get him to loosen his grip. Hunter wasn’t much of a hugger, but he didn’t try to pull back.

Wrecker pulled away when Hunter’s breathing started to return to normal and gave his brother two sharp claps on the shoulder blade.

 “we’ll get ‘er back Hunta. We’ll get Cross back too.” he said earnestly. “it’s been days since you’ve slept. Why don’t you get some rest. I’ll keep an eye on things up here?”

Hunter steadied himself. His breath, his body, his mind. He gave his brother a curt nod, wiped his face on his uninjured arm and straightened his bandana over his forehead.

He wasn’t the type to lose control. There was always a way, there was always a plan, there was always…hope. 

Happy Bad Batch Day!!!

Guys it’s Bad Batch day (9/9)

I mean, every day is Bad Batch day, but today especially. I better celebrate by watching TWO episodes of Bad Batch this evening.