#hatefic

____ 

"How?" My voice is nothing more than a low snarl. 

Omega flinches at the noise, her cheeks still tearstained. 

Instinctively she curls into Wreckers side, who is sitting right next to her and he wraps his big arm protectively around his little sister. 

I didn't want to scare Omega, never. I loved that girl like she was my own but in this moment I saw blood red. 

No Tech. 

"He fell…" was the only thing that left Hunter's lips when they returned to Cid's after Eridau.

All of them battered and bruised, eyes red from the tears shed and empty, only pain left in them. 

Echo put his hand on my shoulder, lingering for a moment, squeezing it gently to convey our shared pain. 

None of them dared look me in the eyes as they walked past me, headed to the back of Cid's parlor. 

Hunter, wrecker, Echo… Omega following slowly, tears still streaming down her flushed cheeks. 

"How?" I repeated my question directed at the others. 

The knot in my stomach tightened, choking me, nausea creeping up my chest. 

For a moment that seemed endless I just stood there. My fists clenched at the sides of my trembling body. 

I had given them an hour after they arrived but I couldn't wait for answers anymore. 

The anger and sadness sitting in my chest so thickly that I couldn't breathe. 

"Everything went wrong when we ran into Saw Gerrera and his rebels.", Hunter finally sighed. 

"They had planted bombs all over the compound… Tech…" he swallowed hard at the name of his lost brother. 

"He… we tried to convince them that it was stupid to blow up the summit. It would accomplish nothing! But he didn't listen." 

Hunter gritted his teeth, almost hissing his spite filled words. 

"The explosion caused the rail line to short-circuit and…." Echo chimed in, his voice trailing off immediately, not wanting to say it out loud. 

Omega's silent sobs grew louder as she gripped onto Wrecker tightly, his thumb drawing circles on her back to try and calm her despite the big Clone being on the verge of tears himself. Omega always came first. 

"He will pay for this." I slammed my hand on the table so hard it should hurt but I couldn't feel anything besides the anger boiling over inside me. 

I needed the anger. I had to lean into it otherwise I would be left with the pain… and I couldn't take that. I wasn't ready to feel that yet. 

So I gave into the raging hate and stormed out of Cid's towards the Marauder. 

With every molecule inside my body I focused on him. 

Saw Gerrera. 

"Show me where that bastard is hiding." I hissed through clenched teeth, digging deep into my connection with the force. 

Usually I let it guide me like a gentle breeze, a lover's hand gingerly holding mine, leading the way. 

But not now. 

This Time I seized it, grabbing hold of the elusive feeling, molding it to my will. 

I could feel the burning of the dark side creeping into my heart but I didn't care. 

I didn't care about anything anymore. 

My Tech was gone. 

He was gone and I knew whose fault that was.

That extremist Bastard would pay for taking my Tech from me. 

Images flashed before my closed eyes. 

A planet. 

A city. 

A building. 

Gererra. 

"Gotcha!" 

I powered up the ship and without looking back I took off into the dark void of space, sight blood red. 

I never saw my squad exiting Cid's, looking for me, never heard Echo quietly steadying Hunter, who was immediately making plans on how they could track and find me. 

"Maybe it's best we give them some space right now, Sarge." 

Never saw the hurt in Omega's eyes, wondering if I'd left them for good. 

______ 

Oblivious to the worries of my squad, I had only one incentive on my mind. 

Finding and killing Saw gerrera. 

Letting the force guide my way, I activated the hyperdrive and jumped to lightspeed. 

My Robe billowed in the wind when I ripped the metal door out of its hinges. 

My face an ugly grimace of fury and madness, my double blade saber lit in my hands. 

"Where is Gerrera?" I growl, dragging one of the guards towards me at his neck. 

Choking on his own breath he couldn't even answer me if he wanted to. But that didn't matter to me, I simply invaded his mind and took the answers I wanted. 

Hurling him into the wall, I made my way into the building. The second guard followed his buddy into the wall with a snap of my wrist. 

_________

There weren't many people in this outpost and the three rebels I encountered on my way I flung across the hallway so hard they lost consciousness. 

I didn't want to kill anyone… 

Except gerrera. He would definitely die today. 

Slowly and painfully. 

There he was now. Sitting behind a big desk, looking up at the armed and cloaked intruder in confusion. 

I was going to make him suffer, make him feel every ounce of pain he caused me. 

I stuck out my free hand, locking onto Gerrera's throat with a force grip, raising him slowly out of his chair and slamming him into the wall behind his desk. 

The confusion on his face shifted into fear in a split second. 

My lightsaber pointed towards the man, I took slow steps around the desk in his direction. 

He tried to speak, probably wanting to ask who I was,  what I wanted. 

But I was crushing his respiratory tract, so no words came across his lips. 

The darkness was clinging onto my heart, seeping deeper into my mind, nipping at my sanity as I stood face to face with my victim.

"You took everything from me." I whispered. 

It was not a quiet, shy whisper. My voice cut through the silence like a freshly sharpened knife. 

I wasn't finished with him. 

"And for what?" I spat the word in his face. 

He was clutching his neck, desperately trying to catch his breath. 

I could see his face slowly turning blue and relished in his anguish, but I wasn't going to let him die yet. 

With a thump he fell to the floor as I released my grip on him. Frantically gasping for air, Saw looked up to me, trying to regain just a smidge of power over the situation. 

Placing one of my boots on his chest I bend down to his eye level, crushing any hopes of him reclaiming control. 

"Every last one of them survived. You didn't even accomplish anything with your fucked up little plan! 

You're a fucking failure!" 

I turned my back on him, allowing the panicked man to garner some composure but my focus never left him. I could feel every tiny shift of his presence in the force. He wouldn't be able to escape or overwhelm me, even with my back to him. 

I pressed my Foot down onto his Chest, digging my heel into his stomach. 

With a quick jerk of my leg I kicked him in the teeth, causing him to spit blood and a chipped tooth. 

With a low buzz I turn off my lightsaber, sheathing the handle on my belt. 

I wasn't going to need this just now. 

I wanted to feel his bones crack in my own hands, the warmth of his blood on my skin. 

"I am your end." 

Behind me Saw finally manages to force out some pressed words:

"Who the fuck are you?"

If I could've seen myself right now I would not have recognised me. My eyes were bloodshot, a faint yellow circle forming around my usually dark purple iris, my face a caricature written in wrath and fury. 

Saw spat out another mouthful of blood and scoffed. 

"It wasn't my fault the plan went south! If those stupid clones…." 

His words got stuck in his throat as I whipped around putting my half lit lightsaber to his chest, the brimming blade almost singeing the fabric of his shirt. 

Panicked, he snapped his head back at the sudden threat. 

"Don't you dare!" I snarled. 

"Don't you dare put this on them!"

Moving just a little bit closer with my saber I leave a simmering mark on his chest. 

His face warped with pain, Gerrera sharply breathed in through gritted teeth. 

Pulling the blade back I take a swing with my free hand, my fist colliding with his jaw with a satisfying crack. I grab his jaw hard, digging my nails into his cheeks. 

The fear growing in his eyes as I forced him to meet my own crazed stare painted a cold smile onto my lips. 

Slowly I dragged his body up the wall by his chin until we were eye to eye again.

"How does it feel, knowing you will die?" 

"How does it feel knowing you failed, Saw?" My voice was icy and calculated. 

Before he could even attempt to answer, my knee shot up into his unprotected crotch, a pained groan leaving his gaping mouth. 

With a low growl I hurled him across the room.  As he crashed into the opposite wall I lept after him, grabbing the collar of his shirt to prop him up against the wall. I started throwing my fists at him frantically, landing blow after blow, blood sputtering out of his Mouth. A tingling in my stomach grew into a deranged laugh as I kept hitting every inch of his face and torso, watching him slowly lose consciousness. 

"Cyare" 

I grabbed a fist full of his dreadlocks, slamming his bloodstained head into the wall. 

"Cyare what are you doing?" 

"Tech" 

The soft voice in my head forces me to pause, Saw's mangled body collapsing onto the floor as soon as I loosened my grip on his hair. 

It feels as if a thick red fog was lifted from my mind and for a moment I could see clearly again. 

"What are you doing?" He asked again, his voice saturated with worry. 

Weak Visions of my beloved Clone passing before my eyes, I stumbled back falling against the desk in the middle of the small room. 

No, you're gone.  

Hazily I looked down at my shaking hands. My vision was slightly blurred but I could see the blood on them clearly enough. 

How could I hear him? 

He couldn't be a force ghost, Tech wasn't force sensitive. 

Clutching my Hair with my hands I could slowly feel my sanity slipping. 

I was losing my mind and I hallucinated his voice in the process. 

"I told you I was your end." 

The quiet rustling of Gerrera's body shifting in the corner of the room pulls me back and the red fog crept back into my mind, the dark side pulling my strings as I light my saber, slowly stepping over to him. 

I position myself above him, looking down on his swollen and bruised face. 

Enough play. 

I scoffed imperiously at his desperate and useless attempt to shield himself by weakly lifting his arms up. 

My blade had already pierced his chest, forcing a choked gasp from his busted lips. 

Staring down into his face I watched the light slowly leave his eyes, his gaze trailing off from where we had stared at each other.

As Saw Gererra, famous Rebel Leader, took his last breath, the darkness seized my heart entirely. It dug its roots deep into my soul, polluting every last inch of my body. 

"Are you there?" 

I deactivated my lightsaber, resheathing it onto my belt again. 

Taking a step back my gaze lingered on the dead body. 

Staring at the mangled form of the Man that stole my love from me I tried to figure out what feeling was twisting my stomach. 

It wasn't relief but neither was it regret. 

It felt as if someone wrapped my intestines all around my other organs and twisted a knot around it. 

But for some elusive reason it felt… almost empowering? 

In a sick, perverted way. 

I wasn't consumed by my rage anymore, instead I felt dangerously calm. 

We. 

I stood in front of the Marauder, staring up the ramp. Seeing the ship stirred something deep down, trying to break through the thick layer of darkness that had engulfed my heart.

It was the closest thing we had to a home. 

"They took Omega. Hemlock has Omega. Please come back…. We need you." 

I had almost forgotten about my squad. 

How could I have forgotten them so quickly? 

Furrowing my brows I tried to find the love I knew I had for all of them inside me. 

There was nothing, nothing but festering darkness. 

In my mind I knew it though. I knew I loved them, but I couldn't feel it anymore. 

Not like before. 

It wasn't a warm, safe feeling anymore, instead it filled me with a devouring fear. 

Fear of losing any more of my loved ones. 

"General… please." 

Hunter's raspy voice emitted from my half forgotten vambrace for a second time and I dragged my eyes down to my wrist, staring at it not really able to grasp what was happening. 

First Crosshair, then…

Tech… 

I choked, but no tears built up in my eyes. 

There was no sadness, only blistering rage.

And now Omega, too?

The forlorn tone of my sargents voice finally pulled me back into reality. 

"I'm here." 

My voice was shaking, still a few octaves deeper than it usually was, laced with an almost sinister tone. 

"Please repeat." 

Cid did what?

"Oh, it's so good to hear your voice!" Hunter sighed relieved on the other end of the comm. 

"Hemlock took Omega, Cid sold us out… we need you on Ord mantell, now!" 

A familiar burning hot rage started bubbling in my throat once again. 

What's one more murder. 

Or two. 

A grin that could only be described as evil flashed over my face as I imagined gutting that treacherous lizard Bitch. 

And when I'm done with her I will find Hemlock. 

I will find him, rip his lungs out and feed him his own eyes. 

"I'm on my way." 

I would get Crosshair and Omega back and I'd kill anyone who dared stand in my way. 

I would never let anything happen to my family again. 

As soon as he said it, the idea made a shiver go through Waylon's spine, prompting Miles to wrap his leavers jumper around him. He gave him a grateful smile. The weather wasn't cold enough that he felt he was imposing and, on the other hand, it was a comforting weight; what with what he'd just learned about that kid's death. The kid.

'Wait, how's Lynn taking it?'

'Better, now that she knows she didn't do it to herself. Angry as all hell, but better.' He flicked his cigarette into the football field. 'Now, Blake - her friend, he found her- is a different thing.'

'Found her? Yeah, I'd imagine.'

'It's not just that, he went along with Loutermilch's story until Lynn managed to get the truth from him. Now he feels guilty.'

Waylon hummed, a small smile managing it's way through his face. He knew Miles sister, who was simply unfamiliar with the concept of not getting her way. 'And didn't she say something?'

'Sure she did. Dragged Blake along and, when their homeroom teacher didn't listen, she camped outside the headteacher's office.'

'Reckon old Matthews wasn't thrilled about that.'

Miles started pacing, angrily. 'That senile old bastard. All understanding; of course it's hard to lose a friend, he said, but no reason to make up stories. He threatened to write her up for cutting class!' He lit another cigarette. 'Then she tried speaking with that counseling nun, yes? Well she said the official version was already out there.'

'Give me a cigarette.'

Miles arched a brow at this, but stopped his pacing to light it for him, eyes lingering on his friend's mouth as he took a drag. When he spoke, his words had lost their heat. 'How I wish they'd all burn.'

'We could burn them.' Waylon offered, stopping to cough at the smoke before continuing. 'We should burn them.'

Miles looked at him like he'd never seen him before. 'What do you mean?'

'I think we should make a bomb.'

🔥

'Are you sure this is gonna work?'

'Early admission to Berkeley, hello? It's gonna work.'

Miles swatted his head jokingly, getting a handful of crisps thrown at his face for his trouble. 'I'm so lucky to have a computer nerd for my best friend.'

'As am I that you're uncannily good at chemistry for someone that skipped half the classes.'

'Hey, if this works we'll all graduate by default anyway, won't we?'

'When this works.'

'Right.'

Evening was just setting in when Waylon got into the security camera in the gym where the PTA night was bound to start later that night. With baited breath, the lads watched as the staff poured in, readying everything.

'Are you sure he'll be there?'

It was Miles turn to sigh this time. 'How many years I've been forging your excuses? The old man will be there, I guarantee it.' He ate some crisps and continued. 'Made it look all official, lightly threatening.'

Waylon changed to the window showing the final draft of the letter they'd sent Jessica's father, asking him to arrive to the meeting before the other parents, going over it until Miles made him change back to the cameras. It was boring work but, leaning against each other in the abandoned observatory, neither minded that much. The building was old and unstable, but that never stopped couples to go there to make out so they figured it was a good enough place to watch the destruction from a distance.

'There he is! That's him!'

For a moment, they just looked at each other, at the Voip call waiting to be placed in the screen. Waylon got up, carrying the laptop, walked to the edge to have a better final view of St Sybil. The anticipation was like an electric current going through him. He sighed when Miles' hand came to rest against this small of his back. It felt familiar, even though he had never done something like that before.

'Together?' He asked. Miles nodded, and they hit enter, eyes fixated in the building as the gym area started crumbling into itself.

'YES! Yes! It worked!'

Waylon hadn't realised how much he'd loathed that school until its destruction was underway. Until he had Miles jumping by his side, cheering and laughing, with too much joy to be held inside. He, however, didn't cheer, didn't jump. With an exhilarated breath he let the computer fall to the ground, arms busy wrapping around his friend's neck, pressing an euphoric kiss against his lips. Miles, startled, laughed into the kiss but held him closer all the same, hiding his face against his neck. 'We did it, Way, it worked!'

Waylon held him there, a hand running through his hair, heart racing with Miles arms around his waist, as he let their victory wash over him in waves now, rather than the tsunami Miles was.

'Oh my gosh.'

They jumped at that, not breaking their embrace, but turning to the small figures looking on from the trapdoor.

'Lynn?' Miles' voice was bewildered, but still older brother enough that she climbed through, followed by Blake. 'What are you two doing here?'

The boy looked embarrassed, but Lynn merely stomped her foot. 'He' She pointed accusatorily at Blake 'Told me you guys were dating, and...'

'I asked if they were!'

'Whatever.'

'So you decided to make a bet out...' Blake insisted.

'Sellout!'

Waylon giggled at that, unable to hold back, considering. Miles gave him a dramatic look of betrayal before he moved apart to manage sister down, leaving him to this sort of hysteria by himself. Miles incensed speech was, however, cut short by Blake, who'd wandered along and was now holding the laptop, staring out of the building.

'Is that our school?'

Lynn was happy for the excuse to stop listening to her brother and ran up to him, turned around, mouth agape and eyes wild. 'Well, is it?'

Miles was, for once in his life, speechless; so Waylon pulled himself together, sort of. Still grinning like a maniac he threw his arms around. 'Surprise?'

Lynn's delighted squeal, her air punches, had him rolling his eyes. Of course she was Miles sister. She clapped Blake on the shoulder. 'Classes are cancelled tomorrow!'

This got a small laugh out of him, which had Lynn continue to list the good news they cannot flunk us on English now until they were both chuckling and voting for which classrooms would better be caught in the explosion while Miles and Waylon exchanged an amused look. The latter's watch beeped on the hour, which had him give Waylon's hand a squeeze before turning to the kids, toying with his keys.

She's underweight, and there's muscular atrophy. The doctor, once Alice explains she was in surgical residency, is happy to speak to her using jargon.

"We'll get you started on PT immediately," she says. "You're not so weak I think we can't reverse it, but I always prefer an aggressive plan in these cases."

"Do you mean atrophy or women getting found after being trapped like I was?" Alice asks. Her voice is a little better. She's been allowed ice chips as they've checked her over.

"Both," the doctor says. She gives Alice a look that's equal parts sympathy and anger. "You're our fourth one from that fucking place."

Alice wants to sit up straighter, but her back muscles are worse off than the rest. It makes sense to her. It seems Jack did some isometric exercises with her limbs but failed to worry about her torso. It's not an uncommon issue for people who try to take care of a disabled spouse at home without a decent amount of medical knowledge or help from a home health service.

"Who else is out?" Alice asks.

"Agent McClair can tell you," the doctor says.

"Right," Alice replies. "Ethics and shit."

The doctor smiles at her. "Exactly. Ethics and shit."

*

Alice sleeps for fourteen hours. When she wakes up, there's a polite nurse with a bland but nutritional breakfast. Alice manages to eat half of it.

"I used to murder twice as many eggs," she mutters in annoyance.

The nurse's polite façade disappears, and she grins openly. "You have PT this afternoon. I'm sure you'll improve your score tomorrow."

Alice grunts in amusement as the nurse leaves. A moment later, Bunny--Agent McClair, Alice reminds herself--walks into the room. She's wearing a pearl gray pants suit with a silk, pussy bow blouse and very tall shoes.

"Alice, may I sit?" she asks.

"Yeah, of course."

Bunny sits in the chair that's pressed against the wall next to the bed, and Alice gives up as thinking of her by any other name. It's just not possible right now. She's physically strained and mentally exhausted, and Bunny's not just wearing a pussy bow and high heels, but she's also wearing a string of pearls and earrings to match.

"Are you into the retro look?"

Bunny chuckles. "I am," she says. "I have been forever. I advised on the whole look I should have inside the virtual compound."

"Virtual compound," Alice mutters. "How did you--if you didn't--I mean." She shakes her head and closes her eyes to think. It takes her longer than she'd like to get a question formed. She feels as scattered as she did inside Victory after the electroshock. "Who are you?"

"I'm Bunny McClair--and that's my maiden name," Bunny replies. "The people in charge of the FBI's undercover operation into Victory used me as a template for the man playing my husband--"

"Dean's not your husband?" Alice blurts out, feeling foolish the second the question leaves her mouth.

"Dean's another agent," Bunny says. "I run the team in the field. He's an undercover agent who spends his days debriefing with me and doing deep dive searches on everyone in Victory."

"But...he chased me," Alice says. "I...I hit him with my car."

"I lied to you more than once when you came to me," Bunny says, and she looks deeply apologetic. "I told you yesterday, the kids aren't dead--"

"Do they know me at all?" Alice asks.

"They know of you," Bunny replies. "When we all realized I was the perfect person to be used for the physical template inside Victory, I made sure to get their consent to use their old pictures and videos to set up the reason why I'd be in there."

"Who plays you?"

"A variety of agents. There's a backdoor hack attached to 'my' eye pieces that allow us to switch out agents every few hours."

Alice reaches up and touches the sides of her eyes where the eye pieces had been. There are calluses there she'd never had before. the nurses had offered her lotion, but she'd refused it. She'd apply it too much, she knows, just trying to rid herself of the feel of captivity.

"Do a lot of people play Dean?"

"No. Since he doesn't need to be there all the time, he can just play himself. But he knows the schedules of the other agents so he knows who he's...acting...against at any given time."

"Acting."

Bunny shrugs and gives Alice the same rueful smile she's always had. "For lack of a better word."

Alice licks her lips. "Is Jack dead?"

Bunny sighs. "No, and I'm sorry I had to lie to you in the moment about that."

"You said he died in real life," Alice replies, and she barks a laugh so loud and sudden and unexpected that she covers her mouth. "I--"

Bunny drags her chair closer and drapes her arms over the bedrail. "The agent playing me told me what happened. I laughed, too." She throws up her hands in a mockery of fear. "They die in real life!"

Alice's laugh this time is a bit quieter, but still as surprising. "I shouldn't--"

"You should," Bunny says, and her hand hovers over Alice's arm before she pulls it back. "Every fucking one of you we get out of there deserves to laugh at whatever makes them laugh. Mary did the best she could under pressure, but even she admits the 'they die in real life' was a last-ditch attempt to basically shock you into slowing down enough that we could help you. He was unresponsive when you woke up because we traced where he was and fed his tech a virus that incapacitated him. "

"Oh," Alice says. "You were--I mean Mary--"

"It's an imperfect system," Bunny says, and this time she touches her fingertips to Alice's arm before curling her whole hand around it at Alice's nod of consent. "I wish we could have gotten Margaret out sooner, but she--"

"Is she okay?"

"She's safe," Bunny says. "She's getting very good help. She wants to see you, but it's going to be a couple of weeks."

"What?! Why?!"

"Because her doctors say so." Bunny's gaze gets sharp and deadly serious, and Alice realizes that the similar look she'd seen in Victory when she'd admitted going to Headquarters is nothing compared to it. "And you'll get your own doctors who will agree you're healthy enough before you see her, too," Bunny continues. "You've both been through a tremendous trauma, and you came out within days of each other. We want to be sure you're both truly safe before we put you in the same room."

Alice lets that thought wash over her. She shifts her arm so she can clutch Bunny's hand. "I know you're not the Bunny I knew in there," she says, "but I feel like you're trying to do right by the Alice you heard about from everyone playing you."

"I am," Bunny says. "The same as I did for Margaret and Lydia and Carol."

"I don't know Lydia and Carol."

"We got them out shortly before you and Margaret were taken hostage."

Hostage. The word rings in Alice's ears, and her hand goes slack.

"That's what I was, wasn't I?"

"Yes," Bunny says with that no-nonsense edge Alice knows very well. "But not anymore. And not ever again. We're going to shut it down, Alice. I promise you that."

"How long will it take?"