#tecker

Kix is taking a stock count when Rex walks in and when Rex asks to sign him off for a day with the flu, Kix doesn’t ask any questions. He shakes the medic's hand with gratitude and then he makes his way through the city, head down, strides long, until he reaches the Jedi temple.

His footsteps are quiet, muffled on the carpeted floors of the temple. He knows these halls like the back of his hands. They’re cold and dull. They’re sterile and sanitised and if they could talk, Rex knows what they would say. Disgusting, undutiful, traitorous, wrong. The dull grey paint blurs walls into walls and before Rex knows it, he’s at the door that leads to the usual meeting point.

And just like every other secret meeting, Rex meets you in a forgotten meditation room that he knows off by heart too. Many nights have been spent here, sat on the long meditation benches, cuddled into one another or just talking. Watching the temple gardens and the waterfall through the one way viewing window, whispering to one another. The room, despite its hostile location, has become somewhat of a retreat for the both of you.

But as well as he knows these walls and that room, he knows you better. And as soon as the door seals behind him, he doesn’t even need to look at your trembling lip to know you’ve been crying. The air in the room is thick with emotion, so much so Rex can hardly breathe himself.

He sits with you on the bench seat and pulls you into his body, soothing your hair until your tears start to fall again and your shoulders are heaving with the effort of the sobs that are torn from your body.

He sits with you for what could have been hours. There’s no way to tell the passing of time in these rooms unless you have a watch or a time piece on you but Rex doesn’t mind. The outside world melts away when it’s just the two of you and the sounds of the waterfall.

When your sobs quiet and your breathing evens out, he holds you at arms length, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes are bright, the way only tears can make them so. Your skin is raw and blotchy and bright but Rex thinks you look just as lovely as always.

“Ready to talk to me now, lovely?” Rex asks. As much as he wishes he could read your mind, take in your auror, he is no jedi.

Your bottom lip trembles again as Rex’s hand pushes back your hair from your face, coming to rest on your cheek. “We can’t keep doing this.” You say, another tear dripping down your face. “We are hurting everyone we love, Betraying everything we hold dear by being together.”

His heart breaks but this is not the first time these thoughts have entered your relationship. But the last time, you’d only been seeing each other for a few weeks and he thought this would blow over in a few short weeks. He had reassured you, held you the whole hyperspace journey home to Coruscant, despite the risk you could’ve been found. But here they are a year and a half into seeing each other and these worries are still rearing their heads.

Rex wonders for a brief moment in general Skywalker and senator Amidala have to combat these sorts of insecurities too. But then he decides that they probably don’t because even if they were found out, the worst that would happen is they’d both be fired and exiled from their respective positions. Rex on the other hand… well… it probably wouldn’t be as happy an ending for him. He would be labelled a traitor and he'd be killed by firing squad.

He pulls you into his body again, rubbing soothing patterns onto your skin, and playing with your hair the way he knows you like, that puts you at ease. “It’s always been you.” He whispers. “We don’t do this for anyone else.” He says, “Just us. It’s just for us. It is selfish, but it’s war, cyar’ika, we are allowed something for us.”

So, when the chair buckled from under him in the mess and he collapsed to the floor, it was no surprise that the surrounding regs made a scene. Raucous laughter filled the large room, but even that wasn’t enough to drown out the insults slung at Wrecker. Hunter and Crosshair were quick to help him to his feet, but Tech…

Tech had just about enough.

“You think you are all so much better than Wrecker, but where is the individuality of looking the same? If anything, you are all boring copies!” He pointed out a few of the regs with as menacing a look as he could manage. “Besides, he could take you all blindfolded! I have scientific data to prove it!”

In his defense, Tech had tried, but the regs laughed in his face, too. The datapad in his hand shook as his other hand balled into a fist. The next thing he knew the room had fallen silent. One of the regs had a broken, bloody nose, and his datapad had fallen to the floor next to him.

“Do not laugh at my brother!” Tech hopped down from the table and smiled broadly at Wrecker who still had unshed tears of embarrassment in his eyes. “You do not need to worry. If they bother you again, I will protect you.”

Wrecker sniffled and hugged his smaller batchmate tightly. “You’re the best, Tech!”

Even back then, Tech acknowledged that the words made his stomach flutter. “Yes, I know.”

.[Wrecker POV].

That was years ago, but Wrecker remembered it like it was yesterday, which is saying something, because he couldn’t even remember if he even ate breakfast yesterday, or if he did, what it was. Still, he’s able to recall those details vividly, and he thinks about it now with Tech curled in his bunk, eyes slammed shut and shaking.

Tech was different, but not in the way that they were all physically different from regs, but his brain worked differently than all of theirs. Sometimes he would get like Hunter, and touch and sound would be too much, but unlike Hunter, who had gotten used to all of that, Tech seemed to shut down. Wrecker was never able to pinpoint when it was going to happen, but it seemed to be in larger crowds when things were very much out of his control.

But it had been hours since they left the races, and Tech was still rocking to stimulate himself and try to keep his thoughts in order. Or maybe it was that the thoughts were too loud? Wrecker sighed. This was all very confusing to him, but he wanted to help. He spotted Tech’s bucket nearby and remembered that at those times Tech would put it on and drown out the noise.

Without another thought, Wrecker snagged it and plopped it over Tech’s head. The rocking stopped almost immediately, but Tech’s hands were still squirming.

Wrecker frowned. “What’s wrong? Didn’t that help?”

Through the filter, Tech sighed. “There is a small black button on the earpiece. Could you press it for me?”

Obliging, Wrecker leaned forward and flipped the small button in question. He couldn’t tell what purpose it served, but after a few moments, Tech started to relax, and he slumped forward to lean into Wrecker. He reached a large, gentle hand around his back and rubbed, soothing away the rest of the rigidity. After several more minutes, Tech wrapped his arms around Wrecker’s neck and allowed himself to be held the way Wrecker liked to, close and consuming.

“I…apologize,” Tech huffed, devoid of energy. “It has been a long time since I have had an episode of that magnitude. Thank you for staying with me.”

Wrecker smiled. “Aw, anytime, Tech. We protect each other. That’s what we do.”

To further prove that it was no bother to him, Wrecker pressed a kiss on Tech’s bucket where his lips would be. He couldn’t remember when they had started…whatever this was, but he knew that it felt right.

“Besides,” Wrecker continued, “you’re the best, Tech.”