Dizzy | she/her Working on fanfiction will be cross posted on AO3 (must have a AO3 account to view my work, locked because of AI). https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dizzy_9906.
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A sudden illness overtakes Doc as she and her squad find themselves trapped in a wintry outpost.
This can absolutely be read as a standalone fem oc x Crosshair fic, but for those familiar with Doc's Misadventures (hi! I love you!), this happens between An Ode to Artists and Fool's Errand. (Sorry it took a bit - this ended up being longer than I meant it to. Also, there will be a part 2) Also also, another huge thanks to the lovelies in Discord for helping catching typos and encouraging me to make it worse!!
Denial comes far too easily in those early hours; when grogginess can be excused - expected after a long mission on a miserable world where the air had been laced with icy frosts, sore muscles mere consequence of trudging through shoulder-high snowbanks, and that pounding in my head nothing more than dehydration. But Echo hadn’t been shivering. Tech voiced no concerns about the climate controls or life support systems within the tiny outpost where we’d taken shelter awaiting the storm to clear enough for us to try to reach our ship. And the thick layer of sweat soaking mockingly into my hair and plastering the suddenly too-rough fabric of my blacks against skin that hadn’t been nearly as sensitive the day before was far harder to dismiss.
Still, I willed myself to ignore it, to pretend, stifling the groan as I painstakingly swung my legs over the edge of a bed that could be called generous only in light of the offensively minuscule cots we’d grown accustomed to aboard the Marauder, pointedly forbidding myself from noting the clear outline of dampness darkening the sheets where I’d laid, the tangy scent of sweat heavy in air that I struggled to breathe through the congestion already clogging my sinuses and settling deep into my lungs.
I couldn’t remember Crosshair leaving; only vaguely certain he’d been here when I’d fallen asleep, cursing the stark chill of my body against his as we shivered beneath the lingering frost of the outside air. I hadn’t argued when Hunter volunteered to take first watch, nor when Tech agreed to take the second and Echo third, though some tinge of guilt reminded me that they hadn’t asked me purely from some sense of a pity I couldn’t let myself dwell on, at least not until I could breathe without my teeth clattering.
The small bunkroom was empty now, twin rows of perfectly kept bedding clearly illustrating that the others had yet to even attempt sleep. That should have bothered me more than it did… couldn’t focus on it, though, not when it was such a struggle to merely heave my armor into place, lips pulling into a weak scowl at how nothing seemed to fit right though I couldn’t bring myself to care enough to try to figure out why.
The room spun for the first few steps toward the door, and I had to lean forward, hand darting out to one of the empty beds to steady myself, visor fogging at the suddenly too-deep breaths causing my body to rock slightly, jaw hanging open. Just a head rush… I’d slept too long…
It lasted several seconds longer than it should have, but my balance gradually evened out to something near enough to normal for me to stand up once more, albeit with a slump that I begrudgingly blamed on a chill I knew had little to do with the cold.
Didn’t matter. We were on a mission. I couldn’t afford to hide away in the bunkroom in utter ignorance to the well-being of my squad. So, I walked, fighting the dizziness still taunting my every step, and I hated how I winced at the deafening hiss of the door sliding open, head throbbing in sync to my too-quick heartbeat.
It took a moment to catch the echo of voices humming from the far end of the hall, but just hearing them, knowing that they were near, granted both a comfort in the simple knowledge that they were here, that they were safe, as well as an encouragement to keep going, to fall into the rote motions of my role among them and treasure what mindlessness it might allow.
But then those distant voices fell silent, and I felt myself pause, tensing as my attention locked on the far corner.
“…Force’s sake.” Crosshair’s low growl pierced the quiet in time to the scrape of a chair being roughly pushed atop the hard floor, and I felt my shoulders draw back defensively before he even rounded the corner, those gleaming eyes already narrowed in a glare. “What the kriff are you doing out of bed?” He practically snarled, and I couldn’t stifle the confused, “w-what?” in time to make sense of his ire.
“Cross.” Hunter called, hushed warning clear in the deep timber of his smokey voice. Crosshair shot an impatient scowl over his shoulder before turning his attention back to me.
“You’re barely standing.” He pressed, arms taut as they looped across his chest. “Get back to bed before I have to carry your sorry shebs there.”
“Wh- no, I'm… I’m not going back to bed.” I stated, tripping over my words initially before managing to hold onto a single thought.
“Intentionally placing additional strain on your already compromised system will only prolong your illness.” Tech joined his brother in the hall, for once undistracted by some device or scrap of half-disassembled equipment, and my jaw ground at the imposing wall the two of them formed.
“It’s just a cold.” I dismissed vehemently, forcing my shoulders back and my chin up though they couldn’t see the frown tugging at my lips.
“Unless you’ve preformed a rapid antig-”
“I don’t give a damn if it’s a cold or the kriffing plague,” Crosshair interrupted, earning a sharp look from the brilliant pilot, “You’re sick.”
“I’m-”
“Doc.” Hunter pressed, strides almost apologetic as he stepped into view. “No one’s hurt. There’s no reason for you not to get some rest.”
“I’m supposed to be monitoring life support.” I argued, scowling at how weak it sounded. “And I have reports to write… they wanted…” The illusion of strength wavered, posture faltering as a too heavy breath fluttered unsteadily through ground teeth, body seizing beneath a sudden tremor that caught with mocking clarity through my modulator, and I couldn’t risk looking at them as I pretended that shiver wasn’t bleeding into my voice, “A, um… analysis on… turning this place into a… an emergency medcenter.” My hand rose listlessly to motion toward the surrounding building as though I hadn’t noticed Crosshair’s approaching footsteps, but when he reached for my helmet, when he pulled it free with movements far too careful for the impatience that had sharpened his words, I couldn’t hide the way my eyes ground shut against the blinding brightness of the hall, entire body curling forward with another violent shutter.
“It would make a shit medcenter.” That impatience was still there though he’d lowered his retort to an oddly gentle whisper. “Storms make it too hard to reach. Analysis done.” I let out a heavy breath, empty glare rising to find far too much concern in those attentive eyes for even the façade of my own annoyance.
“She can do all that in here.” Wrecker offered, rugged voice hushed into something far too timid for the powerful man. “Then we c’n keep an eye on her, and she don’t gotta be all alone in there.” Crosshair looked back toward the neighboring room though Wrecker remained just out of sight. When he turned back to me, however, it was with a silent plea that robbed whatever desperation for independence had driven me from the bunkroom in the first place, and I felt impossibly weak without it, head shifting in a barely-there nod.
Without waiting for any further prompting or arguing or delay, he crossed that final step, arm sliding tightly around my back until it seemed he was the only thing keeping me from crumbling, and I barely managed to bite back the whimper threatening to catch on a breath that shook even harder for the warmth I felt mocking me through the hard plates of armor between us.
“I’ll getcha somethin’ to rest on.” I could hear the breadth of his smile as Wrecker tread quickly past us.
Now void of even my own denial, I turned heavily into Crosshair’s embrace, slumping against his chest with a far too pitiful sigh, relieved at how readily he caught me, how his body curled so subtly around mine as his lips brushed against my hair.
“Come on,” he murmured, easing me forward just enough to prompt a half-step, “before I really do have to carry you.” I let out a small groan, more petulant than anything, but offered no further complaint before willing motion into my too-heavy limbs.
“… hate being sick…” I grumbled, and my heart jumped at the way his arms tightened around me.
“Then stop pushing yourself so damn hard.” He growled, but there was a softness in that low rasp that left me pressing closer against him.
Within mere minutes, Wrecker had a mattress pressed against the base of the center console, where the vent filtered air heated by the internal components to offer a constant warm breeze that drew a shameless moan from me as I nestled beneath it, body still curled into Crosshair’s side where he’d wordlessly sat leaning against the small mound of pillows, armor cast aside that I might thrill in the feeling of his lean form cradling me against him.
“Yeah, Cross did about the same thing.” The towering man chuckled, earning a snarl from the sniper, but whatever scathing retort he nearly spat fell silent as I shifted more comfortably against him. My eyes roamed to the datapad hazardously draped across my thighs, mind anywhere but the useless report awaiting my attention.
“Where’s…?” I started to ask before biting back the question, heart twisting at the still gnawing ache of how readily Echo seemed to evade me.
“Patrol.” Crosshair answered just a beat too sharply, and I felt myself wilt beneath something I didn’t want to name, be it guilt or sorrow or some crippling combination of the two, instead forcing my thoughts toward something just as worrying.
“Don’t want to get you sick…” I whispered, teeth gnawing on my lower lip, and I nearly felt his eyes roll.
“We don’t get colds.” He practically scowled, earning a tiny huff of laughter from me.
My eyes ached from squinting at the screen for far too long, cursing the blurry text as my shoulders bucked with a poorly stifled cough. Cross was dozing lightly, head tilted back against the console as his torso rose and fell in a slow, lazy rhythm. With an impatient, resigned sigh, I let the datapad drop back down atop my thigh, shifting to rest my cheek heavily against his chest, envious of his effortless breaths as my own lungs ached with the effort.
Another cough left the air catching in my throat as I struggled to silence it, but another came immediately after, and another until I had to lock my hand over my mouth to stifle it, the gesture useless amidst the way my diaphragm bucked, heart sinking as the movement roused the barely conscious man I lay curled up against.
“Mm… you ‘kay?” he mumbled, head rolling wearily toward me though he didn't bother with opening his eyes.
“Hm… m-hm.” I tried to hum, but it sounded more like a grunt from the effort it took to control my traitorous lungs, and that guilt grew as his brows drew together, abandoning the fringes of sleep to look down at me. Lip caught between my teeth, I quickly lowered my head, cheeks warming from more than just illness.
“Hey.” He called more pointedly, and I reluctantly forced myself to meet his gaze as his free hand moved to whisper against my jaw before touching his wrist to my forehead, frown deepening. “… you’re burning up…”
I drew a short breath, excuse bating atop my tongue, but that little gasp was too much, body folding forward with a violent series of coughs. My throat burned from it, head pounding, spinning; all thought of dismissing his growing concern caving as my lungs screamed for air.
“Kriff – Tech!” He shouted, but the others were already moving, crowding in as I clawed uselessly at my chest.
“This is precisely why I suggested a preemptive-"
“Just do something, dammit!” Crosshair snarled, hand sweeping along my back in a rhythm far too quick to offer any real comfort.
“M'fi- … m'fine.” I wheezed, hunching forward slightly as though I might escape the blurs of dark expressions staring at me.
“I can hear your lungs from here… that's not fine.” Hunter said, voice unnervingly quiet.
“It’s… s…” The slurred fragments of speech broke into a groan I couldn't bite back as another tremor tore through me, and I nearly whined as Crosshair pushed himself away, easing me down atop the creaky mattress alone.
Drowning. My jaw craned open with a gasp as that pressure in my chest suddenly grew, heels dragging atop the sheets as I struggled to haul myself back up. A flurry of shouted curses and orders boomed about the room as several hands grabbed onto my arms and shoulders, wrenching me upright. Too fast. The room spun, head lolling forward. Someone was yelling, and I strained to push through the heavy fog clouding my mind, wincing at the deafening crackle of air being drawn harshly through lips just hinting at a pained grimace.
“-vere pneumonia, but for it to develop this quickly is-”
“I don’t care about probabilities, Tech. What can we do to help her?” I wanted to snap at Hunter for cutting his brother off. Again. But that panic of suffocation left my breath too ragged to even attempt speech.
“This isn’t a medbay.” Tech replied sharply. “The supplies we have access to are extremely limited.”
“So, raid her damn medbag.” Crosshair ordered, and I vaguely realized he was pressed against my left side with Tech hovering to my right, his hand still held firmly to my shoulder to steady me.
“I have.” He bit back. “She carries equipment and supplies for acute symptoms, not severe illnesses that require a full course of antibiotics and supplemental oxygen.” I tried not to acknowledge the growing dread as I blinked back that lingering haze.
“You’re saying there’s nothing in there that we can use?” Hunter practically barked, and I finally managed to glance up to find him on a knee at the foot of the mattress, broad form blocking out the room around us.
“No, I’m merely stating that we’re operating with sub-par supplies and conditions, so what relief we can realistically offer is less that ideal.”
“Hey.” I grunted, striving for some sliver of mock-offence, but the sound was too brittle, voice frayed. Still, they instantly fell silent, attention darting back to me.
“I wasn’t implying any fault in how you’ve packed your medbag,” Tech offered, a softness in his words that made me want to melt against him, “however, circumstances like this aren’t generally considered during routine missions.”
“‘s… ‘s not… not tha’ bad when ‘m… s-sitting.” I stammered, cursing how that relentless shiver broke my already weak voice and left my aching muscles burning from overuse. The way Hunter’s expression darkened left me painfully certain none of them found any comfort in my attempted reassurance.
“Then we'll get you more pillows.” He murmured, and I wanted to be annoyed at the glimmer of pity quieting that low rumble… but I treasured the little flutter of warmth it sent trilling through me, the tiny relief it offered from the nauseating dance of fire and ice churning beneath my skin.
“Are you able to drink?” Tech's hand tightened around my shoulder for just a fleeting moment before finally moving away, and Crosshair took the opportunity to pull me more firmly against him as his brother reached for a canteen. “You're losing a substantial volume of fluid. I can administer an IV if preferable, but you should at least attempt to have some water.” I grimaced at the truth in his words, at how the clothes clung to my skin from an icy sweat that left the air around me too heavy, humid; stomach churning at the itch of it slipping down my neck and spine despite the violent chill that left my joints aching.
He’d removed the lid and brought the lip of the plastoid container to my lips before I’d even managed to nod, but I quickly pulled away, shaking hand wavering between us.
“I'll… don't… hmm… con… contaminate it…” My lips stumbled over the broken objection, jaw trembling too hard and breath stuttering too frequently for it to harbor any strength as a tiny whimper slipped between the words.
“I assure you, we have ample water sources.” I wasn’t used to hearing him whisper. “Right now, keeping you hydrated is a far greater concern.” And found myself unable to even try to doubt him. When he gently tilted the rim of the canteen toward me once more, I couldn't help but let my lips part for him, fingers automatically reaching for the canteen, too weak and unsteady to help, but he didn't brush me away.
My throat felt too stiff, the action of simply swallowing the cool water a far greater struggle than it should have been; what ought to be effortless suddenly clumsy as I struggled with just those few sips before faltering, choking, body jerking beneath harsh coughs that rekindled the consuming hurt shooting through my head with every frantic beat of my heart as my lungs burned from the strain.
Curses snarling through clenched teeth, Crosshair lunged forward with me, one arm wrapping around my chest to keep me steady while the other began to slam firmly between my shoulder blades as though he could help dislodge whatever miniscule traces of water left me sputtering for breath but he froze after the second one as my back arched away from him with a pitiful whine, and I told myself it was merely my own mind lapsing when I thought I felt his hands shake against me.
“I'll… prepare an IV…” The apology in Tech's voice left me wanting to scream an apology of my own. I wanted to beg them to just leave me to suffer through this in isolation rather than share in that suffering through vain attempts to help. I wanted to promise them that this would pass and I'd be fine, so they didn't need to regard me with a concern that left their footsteps muffled and speech lowered into careful whispers. I wanted to pretend that when Crosshair’s hand returned to my back with a soothing caress rather than that nearly frantic tapping, I didn't crumble with something too close to a sob for any of us to pretend otherwise, that I didn't let myself turn toward him with desperate, jilted movements, legs tangling in the sheets as my arms tried and failed to reach for him; that I didn't let out that weak, broken whimper as he dragged me back against him, arms locking about my waist and chest, one hand clawing into my hair as my jaw craned open around strained breaths, each one wheezing in a way that left him tensing with dread.
I barely noticed Tech gently untangle my hand from Crosshair's shirt until the chill of disinfectant left me convulsing with another violent shiver.
“Easy.” He murmured, “I'll try to be quick.” I didn't turn away from the safety of Crosshair's embrace, face pressed against the crook of his neck as though I might simply disappear into his warmth.
I was no stranger to needles, nor did I share in the fear they so often brought, but the way the nerves shrieked beneath that small pinch left my entire body bucking with a strangled gasp. I didn't see the startled look steal over Tech's face, but I felt how his hands tensed around mine for just a brief moment before he eased the needle in deeper, a displeased hum catching behind ground lips. With a quiet tsk, he pulled back, thumb pressing firmly against the tiny puncture.
“Apologies… I should have insisted on doing this earlier. Dehydration tends to make it substantially more difficult to place an IV, and it seems we can add hypersensitivity to your list of symptoms now…” He added with a slow sigh.
“You missed it?!” Cross nearly spat.
“Dehydration results in reduced blood volume, making veins more likely to roll or collapse, which is precisely what-”
“She never missed your vein when-”
“…Cross…” I barely managed to mumble his name, face cringing at the pressure in my head growing with his every harsh word. His jaw clicked shut, body rocking with a forcefully controlled exhale as his thumb swept apologetically along my hairline.
“Maybe you should take a walk, Crosshair.” Hunter’s voice went quiet, and the room seemed to pause in its wake as the weight of the air grew stifling; the silence it wrought seeming only to emphasize the painful wheeze I was trying so hard to muffle.
“No.” He responded lowly, hard eyes locked on his brother with an unspoken threat that left my heart pounding even faster.
“You don’t need to leave, but I would advise you focus on calming her rather than berating me.” There was a compromise in his words as Tech broke that heavy silence that did little to ease the defensiveness leaving Crosshair’s body taut around mine, but the seething man offered no rebuke as his brother began gently rolling up the sleeve of my shirt. I tried to bite back the little wince at how my skin balked at even that gentle pressure, but they both heard it, and his hands instantly paused.
“It might be easiest to simply cut this.” Tech offered, that foreign softness again sending a little trill flitting through my chest. I started to turn toward him, but abandoned the movement midway, head merely nodding weakly. I hated the way my body tensed for the coming shriek of tearing fabric, but his movements held such care that I didn’t feel the chill of metal as he eased the sheers between the fabric and his fingers, cutting through it so delicately that it wasn’t until feeling that rush of relief as that pressure around my arm suddenly vanished that I even realized he’d started, body deflating against Crosshair with a breathy sob.
“Shh…” Another day, I might have smiled at the uncertainty in his hushed murmur, but in that moment, I merely treasured him for the comfort it offered, body shivering pleasantly at the dance of his breath through my hair.
“This may be uncomfortable, but I don’t want to risk blowing another vein.” Tech warned apologetically, and I didn’t need to look to know he was retrieving one of the thin lengths of elastic to tie around my arm. Still, I wasn’t expecting how it pinched as he tightened it, body cringing with a whimper I tried uselessly to bite back. They’d never bothered me before… but everything felt sharper, nerves panicking at every touch like it was fire.
“Look at me.” Crosshair’s hand slid from my hair to cup my jaw, raising my gaze to meet his despite how impossibly heavy everything felt, how my head lolled limply against his palm, eyes parted just enough to glimpse him. “Just focus on me.” He ordered, and I tried to pretend I hadn’t felt the piercing chill dart through me as Tech disinfected the delicate skin in the crook of my elbow, how my muscles burned from that ceaseless tremble as I focused on meeting those piercing eyes.
“H… h-hap…pily.” I stammered with some heartbreaking facsimile of a smirk. The way his brow hitched ever so slightly with amusement was worth the effort, but it quickly faded back into that deep concern as my torso bucked with coughs I only barely managed to fight back, face turning into the gentleness of his palm for a long moment as I struggled to regain control of my diaphragm.
“I understand it’s painful, but coughing is an important part of breaking up the infection in your lungs.” Tech chided, cradling my arm patiently as he waited for it to pass. I couldn’t try to form a response for several seconds, the entirety of my dwindling strength focused solely on drawing air into my too tight chest.
“D… di… dizzy when… when I c-cough.” I said, words blurring together between sluggish lips and clattering teeth, and I regretted admitting it the instant I heard the heavy breath leave his lips.
“We’ll check the facilities again for a supply of supplemental oxygen… for now, just focus on breathing as deeply as you can.” I let out a noncommittal hum, pointedly turning my attention back to the calluses of Crosshair’s thumb shifting delicately along my cheek as Tech began feeling for a vein. “Would you like a warning?” He barely whispered it, as though that might grant me some façade of denial that he’d felt the need to even offer. I shook my head, willing it to just be done, that I might be allowed to simply close my eyes and escape for a moment.
“Hey, eyes on me.” Crosshair… I think I tried to scowl at the order, head resting even more heavily into his touch. “Doc.” He pressed. By the time the needle slid into my arm, I’d forgotten to anticipate the hurt it would bring, choked gasp ripping what little air I’d manage to drag into my lungs from me in a sudden rush. “… okay… easy, just… just breathe with me.” I hated the nervousness in his voice… It sounded wrong… but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything more than huddle against him as my body trembled.
Next Chapter (coming soon since this was actually written and added retroactively...)
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someone asked me for fic recs and I already had it listed out, so I decided to post here! these are some of my fave fics that (for the most part) focus on whump. these are in no particular order. this is not an exhaustive list by any means, I have plenty of more favorites that I have saved but I wouldn’t quite call them whump fics. also, these don’t really encompass a broad variety of whump genres, more like I have a type and that is captivity/torture. yes, i’m a sicko.
if I could, I would rec everyone’s whumptober/febuwhump/etc, but maybe I’ll do that separately if there’s enough interest.
obviously, there’s some heavy shit on this list, including noncon, so please read the tags and take care of yourself.
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Oh no! There's been an attack on Supreme Commander Chancellor Squeaks! Thank the Force that Commander Fox was there to protect him with his body! That's what it was, not an attempt on his life, what an absurd idea. Well, obliviously he's going to need a bodyguard now, even when he's being protected on the comfortable seat of Jedi Master Kenobi's lap.
The bodyguard in question would of course couldn't share the seat, how can they keep an eye out for enemies if they were so distracted by the comfy-ness, but the shoulders are a good vantage point!
Perhaps Commander Fox, who did such a good job last time? Or maybe dear Commander Cody, who's used to watching out for unseen dangers?
Or maybe take a note from Naboo and have some body doubles to join Squeaks on Obi-Wan's lap?
Cody hates Coruscant. Using His jedi as a glorified cat tree. Not even saving him a shoulder. Evil Vod.
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This 14 week prompt challenge focuses on Star Wars clones - whether those clones be beloved canon characters or lovingly created OCs!
Visit the website to find out more about this event and get all the details HERE!
Below the cut, you will find quick links and reference to all the things, including prompts, weekly themes, event banners & dividers, and more!
[[You can find the Weekly Themes post HERE with the text version of the image below.]]
And our 14th week will be a special week dedicated to the best fans a fandom could ask for: YOU!!
Weekly themes are going to be what the event blog's activities will revolve around. Polls, ask and tag games, etc will focus on these themes -- if you'd like your prompt fills to match the theme too, that's totally up to you! It might pose an extra challenge if that's something you're looking for 😉
Prompts will be released every Monday at 12:01 am CST
do you ever think about how lonely Echo is. how he felt so alone when he was rescued from Skako. how he can't be alone and spends all of him time with someone and following the batch around but probably aches for more but doesn't know what that is. can't place why his skin feels fuzzy and his bones feel empty and he just feels hungry. or how no one can ever truly understand what it is that he has gone through and how it haunts him every single day. how he won't talk about his feelings and keeps those locked down so tight no one can pry them away from him but then he just feels more isolated than before.
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Fox, shocked: Did you just slap me?
Thorn: You were walking on autopilot and heading towards that construction site with gaps in the level!
Fox: ...
Thorn: Sorry for slapping you...I panicked.
Fox: ...I just think it's bold of you to assume I was on autopilot.
Thorn: ...
Thire, watching Fox run away from Thorn, who has his hand raised and ready to slap Fox again: ...Whatever Fox did, he deserves what's coming to him.
Stone, nodding: Yep.
I said I’d write something for Better Men Than The One Before Us and post it on tumblr tonight and I am here to deliver 😄
This is what was going on with Wolffe while him and Fox waited for Cody to get home, something @girloffourhouses mentioned wanting to see after chapter 2 of Older. It’s a little look into what happened, not everything, but boy oh boy. I simply couldn’t resist writing something for it. Also tagging @captaineyayah bc you liked the post earlier asking about this 😊
Prepare for the angst 🩶
—
All Wolffe could do was pace, phone pressed to his ear as it rang. Soon he'd burn a hole in the living room floor. All of his brothers were supposed to be home when he got in. Safe inside the house, having dinner, getting ready for bed. Instead Cody was out 'studying'. If he was really doing that then why wasn't he answering his phone?
It went to voicemail again. Wolffe sighed, pausing as it beeped to let him leave a message.
“Kid, I need you to pick up. You haven’t answered in hours, it’s not… Just call me back.”
Wolffe hung up. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. Stand in the living room and hope that any minute Cody would call. Or, better yet, come home.
A car passed by the front of the house but, as much as Wolffe wanted it to be Cody the car just drove by. Sighing, Wolffe ran a hand down his face. Motor oil covered his hands, smudging over his cheeks. Changing his clothes was last on his priorities list. Not until he knew where his brother was.
Soft footfalls on the landing announced Fox's arrival. A deep frown pulled at his lips, bags deep and dark under his eyes. Rex kept fussing. Going to bed without Cody in the room was proving to be nearly impossible. His patience had worn too thin to handle it so Fox had been upstairs for the past half hour, trying to win a fight he simply wasn't. They all had the same stubbornness, hard headed down to their bones. It hadn't skipped their youngest brother, even if sometimes they wish it had.
He was staring at his phone, biting his thumbnail, body rocking from one foot to the other. Restless. Something was up. He knew that when he got home. Fox was never very good at keeping things from him. He told Wolffe everything from the moment he could speak. Even if it was embarrassing or upsetting or uncomfortable. No matter what it was, Fox told him. So there was something he didn't feel good about. What that was exactly was still a mystery.
It grew closer to 9:30 and still no Cody. Not even a text to tell them he was alive. Fell asleep watching a movie with Lii or was 'too excited about statistics' and couldn’t step away. Nerd. The longer this went on the more nervous Fox got. He'd been nervous the whole time, actually. Making excuses to be in another room. Offering to put Rex to bed. He hadn't once looked away from his phone. It was unlike him. Wolffe was starting to suspect that Fox knew more than he was letting on.
He waited for Fox to notice him staring, eyes flicking up from the screen to meet Wolffe's own. Guilt flashed in those dark brown eyes, giving him away in a second. If there was one thing he could count on it was their eyes always giving them away.
"Tell me the truth. Now." Wolffe demanded. He was done asking questions. Someone was going to actually answer him and tell him what the fuck was going on or he was going to implode.
Fox deflated, biting his lip in a way that looked painful. He looked at the phone screen again but let it go dark so it wasn't staring him right in the face. "I don't know where he is." Fox took a breath that shook. Fuck. Trying to compose himself was like pulling teeth. Wolffe ran his fingers through his hair, gripping the strands in frustration. Those sneaky bastards. For what it was worth Fox's voice fell into an apologetic tone as quickly as he could manage. "He swore he'd be back before eight."
Like that makes it better- Wolffe bit his tongue and counted to ten. The silence was deafening. Regardless, he let himself calm down before he spoke next.
"What was the plan? He gets back before I get home and you both just pretend he was here the whole time." The low tone, slow and disappointed, was enough to make a grimace form on Fox's face. Wolffe folded his arms over his chest. "Have you completely lost your mind?"
This was new. he'd always been the one to help his brother get away with shit. Hide it from their father. Their father was the one they needed to hide shit from. Not him! How could they do this? Why were they doing this? Had he really fallen that far out of favor with Cody that he had to do something as stupid and reckless as this?
"I didn't think it would be a big deal." Fox rubbed the back of his neck, eyes wide and glossy.
"No! You didn't think I'd ever find out." He accused.
"Wolffe, I-"
"It is bad enough that he's sneaking out, lying to me, but you… I never expected you to lie to me." Hurt carried in his voice. That feeling surprised him more than anything, eyes burning for no good reason. It hurt Fox's feelings too by the look on his face.
Crying from upstairs forced both of them to quiet. Irritation swelled under Wolffe's skin and he had to press his fists into his eyes to keep from outwardly groaning. Instead of going straight up like he usually would he turned away and walked towards the kitchen. He'd been following everyone around and trying to keep them all on the right path since he started taking care of them. Healthy, happy, safe. None of them were making it easy on him.
He didn't have it in him tonight to worry about two kids. One missing fifteen year old was enough.
He didn't have to. Fox climbed the stairs without even asking or looking back. He was good like that. Even when he fucked up.
Wolffe sat down at the kitchen table with a huff. When he first became an older brother he never pictured it like this. Up after a grueling day of work worrying that one of his brothers was off who knows where with god knows who. Hurt or in trouble. And he wasn't there. He wasn't there to protect him or fix it. Just stuck waiting. Hoping he came home soon.
He let his head fall into his hands.
For so long being an older brother was easy. They had good days and normal fights and he protected them like he was always told he was supposed to. Becoming their guardian changed things. While he didn't regret it, he did wish someone had warned him beforehand. Maybe he'd be more prepared for this.
The burning in his eyes didn't go away. It only grew worse. He refused to cry, though. If any of his brothers saw him cry they'd think the world was ending and they'd need him to reassure them and he just couldn't handle it. Not tonight.
Not while imagining all the horrible things that could happen to his tough, precocious, hard headed little brother. In so many ways he was growing up too fast. So fast Wolffe hadn't even had time to realize it before he was already fifteen and worried about school dances and what college he wanted to go to and dating.
And yet all Wolffe could see when he looked at Cody was his kid brother. Small and excitable and fearless in ways that hadn't quite scared him yet. What happened to the kid that could sit on his shoulders at carnivals? The kid that was too short to ride the same ones him and Fox could go on. When had he gotten so much older?
One last time Wolffe pulled out his phone. His thumb dialed Cody’s number again, pressing the phone to his ear to hear the dull, annoying ringing. Please pick up. Pick up the phone. Just like earlier the call went to voicemail, automated voice telling him to leave a message at the sound of the beep.
The tone rang in his ear and Wolffe cleared his throat.
“Cody, I… I’m giving it twenty more minutes then I’m looking for you.” His hand gripped the phone as tight as he could manage. “I just want to know that you’re safe. That’s all.”
His throat constricted too much to keep going so he hung up and let the phone sit face up on the table.
The feeling in his chest grew from hurt to agony. Cody was alright. He had to be alright. There was still time. He knew he was supposed to be home soon, he was just running late. That’s all. He’d walk through that door right before curfew and be fine and all in one piece. It was fine. He spent all night worrying for nothing. Nothing at all.
