“I’m sorry for contacting you so late,” Kimura says, flinching as you slump away from him unexpectedly in your drunken stupor. Osamu is quicker to react than the younger man, stepping in and catching you in the crook of his elbow before you can go toppling off the bench onto the sidewalk. He keeps you steady.

“Don’t apologize, I appreciate ya callin’ me to come get her—and thanks fer lookin’ after her,” he says down to the younger man, who seems relieved now not to be responsible for keeping you upright. “Tell her to bring ya by the shop for a meal sometime as payback. She owes ya one.”

Kimura’s eyes widen and he shakes his head like he couldn’t possibly accept, but before he can decline the offer Osamu turns his attention back to you. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he gently pries you from your seat.

“Up ya go,” he mutters encouragingly as he eases you onto your feet.

Your eyes flutter slowly open, looking around blearily for a moment as you take in your surroundings.

“Samu?” you ask, his name slurred on your alcohol loosened tongue. You perk up noticeably in his arms once you realize just who’s holding you. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to take ya home, Cinderella,” he says with a light laugh as your fingers twist into the material of his sweatshirt against his chest. He looks to Kimura again, who’s also risen to his feet now. “We’ll be off, then.”

“Thank you, Miya-san!” Kimura bows deeply forward, a nearly perfect 45 degree angle at his waist.

He’s a sweet kid, Osamu can’t help but think, even if does follow you around like a puppy.

Osamu helps you down the sidewalk towards his waiting truck, then up into your seat on the passenger’s side. He makes quick work of buckling you into your seatbelt even as you squirm counterproductively, then he jogs swiftly around to his own side of the truck and climbs in behind the wheel.

Kimura waves from outside the restaurant as the truck pulls away.

“Seems like ya had fun tonight,” Osamu remarks as he drives in the direction of your home. You hadn't even wanted to attend this work gathering, but had been forced to by your director. Now look where it had gotten you.

You’re fiddling with the controls of the radio, stations crackling in and out as you switch rapidly through the channels. 

“Drank too much,” you complain, settling on a talk radio station (of all things) that seems to be midway through discussing prefectural bylaws.

“Don’t I know it,” Osamu quips in reply and you swat at him harmlessly over the centre console with a laugh.

You’re turned in your seat, your body facing in his direction, watching him as he keeps his eyes on the road. He can feel your gaze tracing over him, but doesn’t glance back.

“Hey,” you whisper, something conspiratorial in your tone. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Sure thing,” he plays along with your antics, fighting back a grin.

It’s silent for a moment—only the voices on the radio discussing trash collection to be heard. Osamu pulls up to a red light, and finally looks over to meet your gaze.

Your eyes are glassy and a bit unfocused, but they’re bright with affection.

“I have a crush on you,” you tell him with a giggle.

Osamu’s chest pangs.

The light turns green.

“Well,” he remarks, returning his gaze to the road ahead and proceeding through the intersection. “That’s good.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees your shoulders slump dejectedly. 

“I’m being rejected,” your next words are positively morose. You turn away from him and lean your body over to the side. He hears a loud thump as your forehead head hits window on your right.

“Hey!” Osamu chides you in concern, reaching out and grabbing the collar of your blouse to tug you up a little straighter. It’s not the most elegant motion by any means, but he’s fairly limited with his other hand on the wheel and his eyes still on the road.

“Owww,” you complain, rubbing your forehead weakly. You bat the hand he has clutching the collar of your shirt away. “You’re so mean.”

“How’m I mean?” Osamu guffaws beside you.

“I just confessed my love for you, and all you had to say is ‘that’s good’!” You turn your body in your seat to waggle an unsteady but judgemental finger at him. “A woman’s heart is a precious, fragile thing, y’know!”

“There’s nothin’ fragile about ya,” Osamu mutters under his breath, thinking about how much you had to drink that night as a prime example of this fact. “Yer tough as a brick wall.”

“Mean!” you jeer at him again, your mouth agape in the wake of his words.

Osamu flicks his turn indicator on before he pulls his truck over to the curb, putting it into park. You’ve stopped outside a convenience store, and when he turns to look at you, the fluorescents from inside the shop bathe you in a backlit halo where you sit in the passenger seat.

He grabs your hand. The one you still have lifted to point at him.

“D’ya see this?” he asks, holding your hand up in front of your face. The ring on your fourth finger catches in the glow of the convenience store lights.

Your eyes widen.

Osamu holds up his left hand where there’s a ring that matches your own.

“I said it’s good y’got a crush on me ‘cause we’re married, dummy.”

Your lips form a surprised little ‘o’ as your eyes flicker rapidly from the band on your finger to his own and back again. 

After a moment you grin, your eyes squeezing shut with how high your cheeks lift. “What a relief!”

Osamu is quick inside the store, just popping in to buy a vitamin drink for you and a pack of cigarettes for himself. He doesn’t smoke as much these days—you’d nag him incessantly if he did—but every so often he gets a craving, and tonight is one of those instances. 

The two of you sit side by side on the curb in front of the shop, the truck parked a little ways down the road. 

Osamu takes a drag of his cigarette, sighing in contentment with wispy plumes of smoke slipping from his lips. He peeks over at you from the corner of his eye. 

“Ya feelin’ better?” he asks.

You’ve got the little bottle of vitamin drink cradled in your hands, working your way through it slowly. You hate the taste of them, he knows that, but you’d regret it more tomorrow morning if you didn’t force it down tonight. You nod a bit, and seem to have sobered up in the time since Osamu arrived to take you home.

“This reminds me of when we first started datin’” Osamu laughs to himself. And he means it. Everything about it. Being out so late. The taste of the tobacco on his tongue. The way you keep creeping a little bit closer to him unconsciously, as though his space isn’t already yours to freely take. “I can’t believe ya forgot we’re married.”

You groan in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

He bites back a grin, trying not to revel too much in your misery.

“And I’m sorry I made you come pick me up,” you mumble after a moment, taking another sip from the little bottle in your hand and wincing against the bitterness. “I planned to just take a cab.”

“It was that little junior of yours who contacted me,” Osamu laughs, lifting the cigarette to his lips and holding it there while he rifles in his pocket for his phone. He holds the device out so you can see the conversation where your subordinate had commandeered your phone, remorsefully messaging Osamu asking him to come and collect you from the bar. He’d even used a funny little sticker of a bunny with tears in his eyes bowing apologetically—it bears a striking resemblance to Kimura himself. 

“That kid,” you sigh, shaking your head lightly as you rub your temple. Your eyes suddenly widen and your face snaps towards your husband. “Wh—“

“Tsumu’s there watchin’ ‘em,” Osamu laughs, reaching up and plopping a hand down atop your head. “Not that there’s much to watch since they’re in bed. He was still at the house when Kimura-kun messaged me.”

You lean into Osamu's touch as you think of your twins at home, tucked up in the little bed they share, and it makes your heart ache a little bit. You wonder if you’ll be able to creep in and give them a kiss goodnight when you get home without waking them. 

You go terribly quiet for a moment, and Osamu finishes his cigarette. He stamps it out on the curb beside him and then slips the extinguished stub back into the pack to throw into an ashtray later.

“Samu?” you call to him, your voice quiet.

He glances over at you, and sees the way you’ve wrapped your arms around your knees. The anxious posture worries him.

“I didn’t forget you, I promise,” you whisper. “It’s just… sometimes I think this is all too good to be true.”

Your husband watches as you admire the ring on your finger that reflects the streetlight overhead.

Osamu smiles to himself, scooting closer to you on the curb.

“I know,” he reassures you, wrapping an arm around your waist and tucking you into his side. Your head naturally falls to his shoulder. Familiar and instinctive. “I was just teasin’ ya.”

You smell like alcohol. He’s sure he smells like cigarettes. You're in rumpled business casual, and he's dressed in the sweats he planned to wear to sleep. He reaches over and takes your left hand in his own—your wedding rings overlapping. And for a moment, in spite of all the ways the two of you have changed over the years and all the ways that life is different now, everything is exactly how it’s always been.

He tilts his face and presses a lingering kiss to your temple.

What would have been a peaceful night in the solitary woods was now chaos as voices and laughter bounced off of the towering Alderaanian trees. Wood scraped and thunked as it was chopped. Water from the nearby lake splashed when stones were picked and tossed, bouncing atop the clear, starry surface.

  Hunter stood right on the edge of the lakeshore, water lapping against his boots as he looked over the water. With his arms crossed over his chest, his brows pinched with a tension he didn't even realize, he was lost in his train of thought. 

   A small tug on his coat caused him to blink, eyes flicking down at his side.

  The tension faded, replaced by a faint smile as his little son peered up at him with big brown eyes. He held up a stone and smiled when Hunter chuckled.

  "You sure this one will work, Kai?" He asked, scooping up the two-year-old boy in his arms. 

  Kai nodded, his small voice murmuring shyly, "Flat, papa. Throw."

  He wasn't old enough to form sentences yet and Hunter secretly wished he'd never really get there. The little toddler speech, single words that meant so much, was honestly too endearing to really let go of. No more baby talk meant little Kai wasn't going to be little much longer.

  But Hunter didn't want to think about that right now. So long as he could hold his son in his arms, he’d soak up every moment they had together. 

   Stone in hand, Hunter faced the lake and reared back his arm. On his hip, little Kai shyly peaked over his arm, clinging to his father. When the rock flung out of Hunter’s hand, he held onto his adi'ka and watched with shared attention as Kai’s preciously provided stone bounced seven times before sinking. 

   Hunter bounced the boy on his hip with a soft cheer, causing his shy toddler to giggle and duck his head against his shoulder. Smiling from ear to ear, Kai finally looked up when Hunter kissed his forehead. His cheeks were pink as he reached out to touch Hunter's tattooed cheek. With a tilt of his head, Hunter pretended to bite Kai’s palm, earning a loud, shrieking giggle that so rarely fell from his little boy’s lips. 

   With a quick kiss to Kai’s forehead, Hunter lowered the boy to his feet and pat his bottom with a playful tap, nudging him toward camp. 

   “Go on, scout. It’s getting late and you wanted some s’mores, right?”

   Kai looked up and nodded, offering his hand for Hunter to grasp.

“Tea, too."   

   Hunter chuckled, nodding. 

   “I’ll get you your tea, son.” 

-

Lyra liked exploring. 

   For an eleven-month-old baby, she did a lot of crawling and searching, turning over rocks and tugging on flowers. Being too small to walk on her own, she needed help to keep herself upright. With her large hands clenching her father’s two fingers, she waddled from side to side in her denim jumpsuit and red booties. 

   Tech hovered over her, cautiously following her as she guided him around the campsite. Lyra babbled and squealed, wordless yet emotive with every single little flower and bug that caught her eye. 

   And Tech was there to explain it all. 

   “Eh?” Lyra sang in a questioning tone, crouching and pointing at a stone. 

   Tech crouched by her, holding her upright with a hand on her hip while using the other to tilt the rock over. The two hunched closer to the ground, ears pressing together as Tech gestured to the various bugs. “That is a millipede and this is a grub.” 

   She babbled and sputtered, and Tech nodded as if he understood. “Yes, and this is a poisonous centipede so we don’t want to be making physical contact with that one, ladybug.” 

   Lyra looked him dead in the eye before turning and stretching, reaching her little finger toward the centipede that Tech just warned her about. He sighed, tugging his troublemaker backward by the straps of her overalls. She looked up at him with an innocent smile and he shook his head, chuckling at her impulsive nature. 

   Lyra grasped his fingers as best as she could and pulled him along, waddling and tripping only for Tech to save her with gentle swings, raising her legs up and down. With little light left in the sky, he wanted to give her enough time to explore and tire herself out — it was the most reasonable plan to give her the chance to sleep throughout the night without waking him up every so often. 

   She pulled him to a patch of purple flowers and, like before, crouched down to get a better look. Tech kneeled beside her, picking one up to hold to her eye level. 

   “These are wild lavender,” he explained. “They have a very aromatic fragrance. here, smell it, Lyra.”

   When all that she did was blink at him, Tech decided to demonstrate by lifting the flower to his nose. He sniffed it and smiled when his baby girl giggled. Tilting it her way, she placed her hand on his chest to keep herself steady and leaned, sniffing the plant with her little nose. 

   Suddenly, in unison, the two scrunched their noses and sneezed at the same time. 

   Lyra fell against him in a fit of baby giggles, laughing even harder and louder at the second, third, and fourth sneezes that barrelled their way through Tech’s system. He huffed, sniffling and scrunching his nose from the outburst. With wide eyes, he looked at his laughing ladybug and furrowed his brows. 

    "Odd," he hummed, “It seems we both have an allergic reaction to wild lavender. Perhaps it is best if we return to the campsite and inspect Wrecker and Olive’s progress with the tents. Alright, ladybug?” 

   She babbled and turned to flee when Tech scooped her up, bringing her up in his arms. Lyra whined and kicked her legs in defiance but he just chuckled, pressing his mouth against her neck to blow raspberries. Her giggles were so cute, he couldn’t help but press a kiss to her temple, smiling when she placed both palms on his cheeks and began to pinch and tug.

Tech just sighed, allowing her to pull and pinch his cheeks and nose as much as she pleased.

-

“You sure you can do it?” 

   “I can do it, dad.” 

   “M’kay… just sayin’, cause if you can’t then that’s ok-” 

   Olive sighed, glancing at Wrecker with furrowed brows. “Dad, I can do it.” 

   He held his hands up in surrender. “Alright alright. Give it a shot then, kid.” 

   Lifting the hammer above the tent spike, Olive gave a few testing swings toward the spike’s head before bringing it down. Her accurate hit sent the spike straight into the soil, causing her to smile and look up at Wrecker with a victorious grin. 

   “See,” the ten-year-old sang teasingly. “I told you. I’m just as strong as you, daddy. I’m even stronger.” 

   Wrecker arched a brow, his smile slowly curling into a challenging grin. 

   “Oh yeah?” 

   Olive gasped and dropped her hammer, screeching when Wrecker picked her up and turned her upside down. With his grip on her ankle, he effortlessly held her a few inches off the ground, giving her enough space to keep her palms to the dirt. 

   “DAD, LET ME DOWN!” 

   “Take it back,” he shrugged as if it was a simple answer. 

   Olive huffed, crossing her arms over her chest with a defiant smirk. “No! Now put me down!” 

   Wrecker gave a deep and loud belly-laugh. “No. Now take it back before you start gettin’ woozy, kid.” 

   Just as she began to writhe and wriggle like a worm on a hook, Tech came around the tent corner with Lyra cradled snugly in his arms. He paused in his tracks, staring in confusion at the sight of Wrecker dangling his daughter upside down by her ankle. 

   “What are you doing?” Tech asked, glancing at the poorly fashioned row of family-sized tents. “Is this what you’ve been doing for the past hour?” 

   “Hey, Uncle Tech,” Olive grinned, waving. 

   “Hello, Olive Oil,” Tech responded plainly, his nickname causing Wrecker to bark out a laugh. “May I ask what you are currently doing?” 

   Olive smirked. 

   “Just hanging.” 

   Wrecker proudly cheered, lowering his hand down for Olive to give it a hearty slap. “Haha, that’s my girl!”

   Tech shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. Lyra watched him with a peculiar gaze and slapped her tiny hand from his face, giving his nose a sympathetic pat. Tech gave her an odd look before realizing why she seemed so concerned. “Oh no, ladybug, I’m not injuring myself-” 

   “Uncle Tech?” Olive called as she dangled. “Can you tell dad with really smart words that I’m stronger than him?” 

   Tech pushed up his goggles up the bridge of his nose, making Lyra giggle and babble. “Shall I tell the truth or offer a fabrication?"

   “Fabrication the heck out of it.” 

   “Then yes,” Tech pointedly muttered, shaking his head. “You are somewhat stronger than your father, Olive. Now Wrecker, would you please put your offspring down so that she may watch Lyra? I refuse to let my daughter sleep in a haphazard contraption like the one you’ve just made.” 

   Wrecker frowned. “If you wanted a mansion, then why don’t you do it, Tech?” 

   “Fine,” Tech shrugged, nonchalantly turning around to find his baby carrier, leaving Wrecker and Olive back to their previous dilemma. 

   “Hey, daddy?” 

   Wrecker glanced down at Olive. “Yeah, squirt?” 

   “I give up,” she whined. “You’re stronger than me. Now can you put me down? I think I’m gonna throwed up.” 

   “Shoot, right. Sorry.” 

-

Echo stared up into the Marauder with his hand on his hip, scomp arm tapping impatiently against the edge of the ramp. He waited while deafening clatters echoed from the ship’s interior, followed by mischievous giggles and hushes. 

   “Quinn?” Echo called gruffly, furrowing his brows in frustration. “Sky? Are you two doing what I asked you to do or are you messing around again?” 

   “We’re still looking for the marshmallow sticks, dad!” 

   “Quinn found some cool blasters-” 

   Echo paled. “N-no! How did you- that locker was locked-!”  

   “Echo,” Tech called as he walked up to the ship, “Are the twins inside?” 

   With reluctance, he nodded. “I sent them to get the marshmallow sticks twenty minutes ago and they haven’t come out yet.” 

   “And you didn’t consider checking on them?” 

   “I was setting up the campfire!” 

   Tech glanced down when Lyra babbled and offered his finger with a wiggle. She grabbed it with eager hands, chewing with teething gums while he nonchalantly peered up into the Marauder. His ship. If Echo’s troublemakers were in there alone, he could understand Echo’s reluctance to go inside. Anything could’ve been hiding beyond the doorway from a prank to a total mess. 

   “Sky? Quinn?” He called, his tone tilting towards a warning. “You are aware that you are on my ship, correct? If I go up there and find something I will not like, you better believe that I will lock you in the storage compartment for the entire trip home.” 

   Panicked shuffles echoed before two heads popped out from around the corner. Sky giggled, nervously chewing on his nails. Quinn gave his father a grin. 

   At that moment, the two looked far too identical to him and Fives in their early days. 

   “We have a surprise for you,” Sky sang. 

   Echo immediately groaned, placing his hands on his face. “Sky-” 

   “It’s not bad, buir,” Quinn assured, sharing a smile with his brother. “We promise. right, Sky?” 

   “Right, Quinn.” 

   Lyra squealed while Tech and Echo both shared an unconvinced look. 

   “Ta-da!”

The two jumped out from behind the doorway, holding up Echo’s scomp tool case. Under normal conditions, it would’ve been charcoal gray and cleaner than a freshly bathed newborn. Now, it was painted blue and covered in stickers of stars and old republic symbols. They even drew a stick figure of their entire family: cousins and spouses included. 

   Echo slowly lowered his hand from his face, arching his brows with an impressed smile. 

   “You got into the paint and did that in twenty minutes?” 

   The 12-year-olds both nodded in unison. 

   “Yup-yup.” 

   “Yeah!” 

   He cocked his head, smiling. “Not bad. Fives and I would’ve done it in ten.” 

   Quinn rocked his head back, groaning while he retreated back into the ship. Sky placed his hands on his hips, raised his nose in the air, and smartly chided, “We got it, dad. We’ll surprise you someday.” 

   Echo crossed his arms, huffing a chuckle. “I doubt it. Now can you please find the marshmallow sticks and lanterns before we start making s’mores at bedtime?” 

   “That’s the best time!” 

   “Yeah, dad, the best!” 

   Twigs crunched as Hunter approached the ship, holding sleepy Kai’s small hand. When he saw the collection of fathers standing at the foot of the ramp, he pinched his brows in suspicion and tilted his head to peek into the ship. 

   “The twins?” 

   “Unfortunately, yes.” 

   “Yeah.” 

   Hunter nodded, “Huh. Well, could they give me Kai’s headphones and blanket?” 

   “I need Lyra’s carrier as well,” Tech added. 

   As if telepathic, the twins stuck their heads out at the same time and said, “Coming right up!” 

   Not a moment later, Quinn came running down the ramp with Lyra’s carrier in hand while Sky followed a bit slower, careful to keep himself from tripping on his newly healed ankle. Echo took the headphones and blankets out of Sky’s arms and handed them to Hunter, giving Sky a slightly subtle look of warning when he frowned. 

   “My ankle’s not broken anymore, buir,” he muttered, too embarrassed to talk about his injury. “It’s fine.” 

   “Sure it is, but I don’t want you to get hurt again.” Echo placed his hand on Sky's head, giving him a small smile while brushing his unkempt hair out of his face. “We can’t both be accident-prone.” 

   A deafening thunk echoed from within the ship and the two turned, glancing up as Quinn slowly stumbled into the Marauder’s doorway. His hair was sticking up in all directions, clothes disheveled as if he just braved a storm.

   On one hand, he had his fist clenched around a copious amount of metal marshmallow sticks. 

   On the other, it seemed he had also managed to lose a tooth in the process, causing him to grin widely.  

   “It’s a HUGE one, dad!” 

   Sky looked up at his father with a snarky grin. 

   “Looks like we’re all accident-prone like you, dad.” 

   Echo just palmed his face and sighed. 

   ”Quinn, come here and let me see which one got knocked out…” 

-

  “Is this a good stick, daddy?” 

   Zion held up a thin little piece, big eyes honing on his father like two beams of pure pressure. His gray-haired mini looked so hopeful that Crosshair had no choice but to nod his head in approval and take it, adding it to the pile under his arm. “Yup, that’s a good stick.” 

   He felt a tug on his jacket and glanced down at the little girl on his opposite side. 

   “How ‘bout this, daddy?” She asked with a soft voice, causing Crosshair’s heart to swell. Little Zoya held up her own twig with a hopeful gaze and Crosshair nodded yet again, finding it impossibly hard to deny her. He added it to the wood pile before continuing toward their campsite, glancing left and right to keep an eye on his six-year-old twins. 

  They toddled along beside him like sheep flanking a wolf, gleeful grins and smiles on their faces while crosshair had his typical deadpan stare. While he carried the wood in his arms, Zion and Zoya did their best to contribute, helping their father like perfect little gray-haired soldiers. Zoya added twigs and sticks while Zion just looked around, gazing over nature like he was truly soaking it all in. 

   “Daddy, I'm tired,” Zoya whined, pausing by a boulder to rub her knees. “My feets hurt.” 

   Crosshair stopped walking, arching his brow at her. “You don’t want to walk anymore?” 

   She shook her head and he nodded in understanding. Lowering the wood to the floor, Crosshair crouched and offered his back for Zoya to climb up. Jumping on him with a giggle, she dangled her legs over his shoulder and placed her chin on his head before he picked up the wood and stood. 

   Zoya yelped when she saw how high up off the ground she was. glancing over at Zion, she called his name loudly, “Zion! Look! I’m a giant like daddy.” 

   Crosshair rolled his eyes muttering under his breath, “I’m not like the trees, adi’ka. I’m average… maybe a bit above… actually, pretty above if we’re talking about Hunter, too.” 

   Zoya giggled softly, her angelic voice causing him to huff a chuckle. 

   “Uncle Hunter is small.” 

   “Oh yes, he is,” Crosshair smirked, “And if he asks you where you heard that, what are you going to tell him?” 

   “That ba’vodu Wrecker told me.” 

   Crosshair smirked, nodding his head. “Atta girl.” 

   When he heard nothing but silence from his son, Crosshair glanced at Zion as he graced his hand across the flowers and stopped to smell the wild lavender. 

   “You ok, kid?” He asked, arching his brows when Zion looked at him. The grey-haired boy nodded and they shared a small smile. 

   “I want marshmallows,” he chirped, causing Zoya to gasp from atop Crosshair’s shoulders. 

   “Me too!” 

   Crosshair nodded. “Okay. Anything else?” 

   “And hot chocolate?” She questioned curiously, making Crosshair’s eyes narrow. The moment he looked over and saw Zion’s hopeful eyes, he caved in. Manipulators. “Fine. Just a bit.” 

   “And cuddles tonight?” 

   “Of course.” 

   “And cinnamon squares for breakfast tomorrow?” 

   “Nope, not that one.”

   “Plea-a-a-ase?” 

   Crosshair grimaced, sighing, “FIne, but that’s it.” 

   Zoya hummed. “Maybe… story time tonight?’ 

   At this, Zion was by his side in the blink of an eye, clutching Crosshair’s sweater while begging, “Ple-a-a-ase read us The Tiny Tooka tonight.”

   “I read you that all the time,” Crosshair muttered. “You need to find a new favorite. That one’s lost its charm.” 

   “Plea-a-a-a-ase?” They both wined, big eyes from both Zion and Zoya. 

   With a sigh, Crosshair surrendered. 

   “FIne… but only this once…” 

-

“RAHHH FOR THE REPUBLIC!”

   Olive roared and fired her finger guns at Quinn and Sky before sheathing them on her hips. She turned on her heel and ran, sprinting around the circle of logs surrounding the blazing fire. Sky yodeled out a battle cry as he sprinted after his cousin, leaving Quinn to hobble after them while gasping from laughing too hard. 

   Echo sat on a log, watching his twins play in the light of the campfire with a faint smile. Memories atop memories flooded his mind when they’d play like this, reminding him of days gone by. 

   Beside him sat Tech, cradling a swaddled and sleeping Lyra in his arms. She was out like a snuffed light, snoozing in the comfort of being bound by Tech’s own specific wrapping method. She had a little beanie on her head to keep her warm and ear muffs covering her blanketed ears, earning a few endearing looks when he sat down by the fire. He spent a decent amount of time gazing down at her, lovingly tracing his fingertip along her sleeping face while making sure she wasn’t cold. 

   On the other log sat Hunter and Wrecker. While Wrecker kept an eye out on Olive and Echo’s twins, Hunter held Kai on his lap, keeping his son warm in his own coat. Kai had his sensory headphones and blanket on his lap, leaning his head against Hunter’s chest as he calmly and silently looked into the fire. He was such a quiet little soul that Hunter often wished to see him running around and having fun, but he wouldn’t push it. He enjoyed holding his boy so close to him, especially if kai was in the range of forehead kisses.

   The final member of the squad returned to the campfire a bit later than the rest. Crosshair approached with a pile of sticks under his arm and Zoya perched on his shoulders. Zion skipped alongside him with a smile, adding his own tiny pile atop the reserved wood. 

   Crosshair sat down on a lone log with a sigh, gently dipping his head so that Zoya could slide off his shoulders and into his arms. He set her down beside him while Zion climbed up, the two of them snuggling against Crosshair’s sides with synchronized hums of comfort. He opened his jacket so that they could get in on the warmth, causing his jaw to clench when he felt their cold hands tickle his abdomen. They fell silent, peacefully enjoying the quiet while Quinn, Sky, and Olive all continued running around. 

   “I don’t get it,” Echo muttered, breaking the silence. “Out of all of you, I get the ones that can’t sit still or stay quiet for one minute.” 

   As if on cue, Quinn sprinted behind him with blurring speed, running from Olive while she yodeled her own battle cry and chased after him.

Echo sighed, shaking his head. 

   “Point proven,” Tech muttered, distracted by his little Lyra as she squeaked out a yawn. He was so in love with his little baby that he was oblivious to his brothers’ stares until he glanced up, his smile falling from his lips. “What?” 

   Wrecker slowly grinned. “Softie.” 

   “Of course. A child needs a parent with a soft, nurturing nature over an abrasive one.” 

   “He means you’re like Crosshair,” Hunter chimed in, smirking when Crosshair glared at him. “Soft like butter.” 

   “I like butter,” Zoya muttered from the shelter of his coat. Crosshair cracked a smile and reached down, curling her gray hair behind her ear. 

   “I bet you do, sweetheart.”

   Zion leaned his head close, smirking. “I don’t.”

   He pat his boy’s head, eyes crinkling with fatherly amusement. It was his turn to look up, his smile dropping when he saw the knowing looks on his brothers’ faces.

“Shut it.” 

   Hunter glanced down when Kai shuffled around on his lap. His adi’ka glanced up at him with tired eyes before looking back at the fire, sighing gently.  Glancing toward Echo and Wrecker, Hunter nudged his chin towards the three eldest kids and said, “They should head back now before it gets too late and cold for s'mores. The littles have to check out soon.” 

   Wrecker nodded. Cupping his mouth, he sucked a big breath in and shouted, “TROOPERS! BACK TO BASE IN 3…2…1-”

  Quinn came sprinting out of the shadows only to slide across the log and crash into Echo’s side. His father exhaled a sharp breath just to be hit again when Sky did the same thing, sliding and barrelling straight into Echo. They giggled when he rubbed his sides with a wince.

   Olive approached a bit later with her arms full of blankets. She handed them out to Crosshair and the twins, Hunter, then for herself and Wrecker when Tech and the others denied her offer. Throwing the sheet over her head, she snuggled into Wrecker’s side and smiled happily when he threw an arm over her shoulders, pulling her in close. 

   Echo extended an arm behind him, grabbing the bag of s’mores ingredients and campfire sticks. They were tossed around one by one and by the end of the dispersion, each older child had a marshmallow hanging over the fire. Kai wanted to try it himself but he didn’t like having to blow out his flaming marshmallow, so with his blanket in hand, he wandered over to Olive and climbed in his cousin’s lap. She accepted him with a grin, whispering jokes in his ear as she roasted both of their marshmallows. 

   Hunter and Wrecker watched them with a smile, catching a bit of Omega within Olive’s caring nature. Hunter’s heart clenched a bit at the fact that she wasn’t there but he couldn’t blame her. Omega had her own life to live, bouncing from planet to planet in her new starship. While they were hunkered down with the littles, she was off exploring and trekking the vast stretches of space.

   As he thought of her, he heard a little gray-haired mini come wandering up to him. Little hands climbed and kicked as Zion sat up on the log by Hunter’s side, resting his head against his ba’vodu’s shoulder. Hunter opened his blanket up, allowing the boy to dive under with a giggle. He glanced at Crosshair who watched them with an arched brow, the two sharing an amused smile. 

   “I don’t understand how you’re his favorite.” 

   Hunter smirked, tapping his temple. “Intuition. At least we know he doesn’t have your brain.” 

   Crosshair rolled his eyes, causing Zoya to giggle. “Very funny.” 

   Echo’s twins were energetic as they roasted their marshmallows until they were black. Quinn waved his marshmallow back and forth through the flame while Sky continuously kept pulling it out and inspecting it. The lumps were charred by the time both boys lowered their marshmallows on their crackers, grinning when their hands were covered in a goopy mess. 

   “This is so yummy, dad,” Quinn groaned, holding up his burnt abomination. “Wanna bite?” 

   Echo grimaced, shaking his head. “No, I’m okay, bud.” 

   "Please?” 

   Sighing, Echo gave in with a reluctant nod. He opened his mouth for Quinn to raise the s’more to his lips. When he bit down, Quinn began laughing at the look on Echo’s face. Soot coated his tongue as he chewed, shaking his head. 

   “You burnt it.” 

   “Duh, that’s the best part.” 

   Sky pulled out his marshmallow and made his little sandwich before taking a bite. He smiled, glancing at Echo with hopeful eyes as he held his own s’more out. Echo obliged, knowing he couldn’t say no. While the s’more was good, his lack of love for sweets won him over. He swallowed thickly and shivered, making both boys laugh. 

   Without a want or need to make s’mores, Tech continued cradling little Lyra, swaying her from side to side. He lifted his head, watching his brothers and his nephews and nieces, and came up with an idea. 

   “Wrecker,” he called the storyteller, causing him and Olive to both look up at the same time. “Why don’t you tell them a story? Our first night is coming to an end and it would be best if the children had something to relax them before bed.” 

   “Oh-oh-oh!” Quinn jumped up, pretending to swing a sword. “Tell us about that Wookie jedi you guys took to Kashyyyk!” 

   “No-o-o-o,” Sky sourly sang, reaching over to tug his brother back down onto the log. He turned to Crosshair and gave him a devious grin. “Uncle Cross, tell that story about Uncle Cody and the mission you guys went on together when you were impies!” 

   Crosshair scrunched his nose in distaste. “You’re the only one who likes those stories, sky.” 

   “Cause they’re cool!” 

   Olive nudged her dad’s side, causing him to look down at her and the boy in her lap. “What about the time when you had to fight baby Rancor? Or that story about that really creepy monster ship you were on when Auntie Omega was little?” 

   Zoya whimpered, curling into Crosshair’s side. He frowned, lovingly cupping her cheek when she shivered. “That’s a scary story, Olive," she murmured. "I don’t like it.” 

   Olive smiled. “Then we’ll pick another one, bean.”

   Kai shifted on her lap and looked up, cupping his mouth as he whispered in Olive’s ear. Her eyes brightened and she looked from Hunter to Echo. “Kai wants to hear the story about how you all saved Uncle Echo.” 

   Zion gasped and sat up in excitement, glancing from Hunter to his father with a grin. Crosshair shrugged a shoulder, offering a small smile when his son jumped down and ran up to him, climbing onto his lap. Zoya instantly followed, seating herself on the other leg. As they snuggled into him and got comfortable, Kai went back to Hunter and held his hands up, gesturing to be picked up. Hunter obliged and brought the boy on his lap, letting Kai’s little arms wrap around his waist while he pressed his cheek to Hunter’s chest. 

   Gently rocking Lyra from side to side, Tech held the baby in a careful hold and smiled when Sky leaned closer towards him, gazing down at Lyra with stars in his eyes. With a soft finger, Sky poked Lyra’s nose and giggled when she smiled in her sleep. Quinn leaned against Echo’s side, holding his father’s scomp arm in his lap as he absentmindedly scraped away the smudges of dust that stained the metal. Echo kissed his hairline before turning towards his brothers, shrugging, “Fine with me.” 

   The flickering flames of the campfire danced and swayed in the gentle breeze. The logs crackled and popped, sending showers of sparks up into the sky like tiny shooting stars. The warm glow of the fire cast shadows on the faces of the people gathered around it, their expressions illuminated in the orange light.

   Wrecker grinned and scooted closer to the edge of the log, his arm squishing Olive into his side. Zoya and Zion both listened with smiles as they rested against Crosshair’s chest. Hiding under Hunter’s blanket, Kai removed his headphones to hear the story and the crackle of burning wood. Tech’s little Lyra continued sleeping, causing her father to smile at her peaceful state. Echo, Quinn, and Sky shared smiles when their arms tightened around their father's waist – they all had very special reasons to love this story. 

   Clearing his throat, Wrecker held his arm out in a wide gesture and began his narration in a deep voice. 

    “It started on Yalbec Prime when we got a comm from your Uncle Cody…”

-

dad!batch taglist — i'm tagging you lovelies to this request because it's a longer work, unlike the past little drabbles

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open to see Pepa in front of her. Murmuring, she propped herself up on her elbows. “Pepa? What is it?”

“I had the nightmare again.” Her voice trembled. “I-I tried not to think about it, but it just came back, and I-“ She burst into tears.

Julieta rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, taking her sister in. The new nightgown clung to her skin, and she shivered from the cold. Glancing over, she saw wet crumpled sheets on the empty cot. Apparently it was more serious than she’d let on.

Pepa sniffled, wiping her tears on her sleeve. “I’m sorry to wake you again, I know it’s stupid, but I just can’t sleep.” She chewed on her lip, eyes wide, begging for reassurance.

At that moment, they could have been eight years old again, with Pepa seeking out Julieta after a bad dream, knowing she’d be more comforting than their mother. Julieta smiled wearily, placing a hand on Pepa’s arm to pull herself out of bed. “Let’s go make you some tea.” She grimaced at the sensation of the wet fabric on her hand. “But first, dry clothes. You’ll give yourself a cold if you keep raining like this.”

Pepa worried her lip between her teeth. “Sorry, hermana, I didn’t mean to-“

Julieta held up a hand to cut her off. “Stop apologizing, Pepa. Get changed and then we’ll talk.”

Once Pepa had changed into another nightgown, the two went downstairs to the kitchen. Julieta filled the kettle and set it on the stove. In the meantime, she got a mug ready, adding a judicious sprinkle of calming herbs to the tea leaves. The kettle whistled, signaling that the water was ready. “Here you go.” She handed the steaming mug over to Pepa, who was still shaking.

“Thank you.” She accepted it gratefully with trembling hands, blowing on the hot liquid before taking a sip. The liquid sloshed inside the cup, but thankfully none of it spilled.

Julieta observed her as she drank in silence. Pepa hunched over the table, closing herself off; helpfully shaded by a cloud. Although she’d stopped crying, Julieta knew better than to assume that meant she was fine. “Do you want to talk about your nightmare?”

Pepa merely sipped her tea, not dignifying the question with an answer.

“Come on, Pepa…” Julieta rested her hand on Pepa’s shoulder, noting the way she twitched at the touch. “You’re the one who woke me up.”

Pepa shot her a dirty look. “I’m sorry for waking you up, okay?” The apology tumbled out automatically. “I should’ve let you keep sleeping.”

Julieta sighed. “No, Pepa, that’s not what I mea-“

“Let me just finish my tea and you can get back to sleep.”

Julieta shivered from the sudden chill in the air. “Pepa, we’re talking about this whether you like it or not.” She knew Pepa and knew that she felt better after airing out her feelings, no matter how evasive she tried to be.

“Forget it, Julieta,” she insisted stubbornly, swirling her spoon inside the mug aggressively.

Oh, is that how she was going to be? Well, two could play at that game. Julieta set the kettle to boil again and got out another mug.

“What are you doing?” Pepa asked cautiously, abandoning her spoon.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Julieta retorted. “I’m joining you.”

“You’re having tea in the middle of the night too?” Pepa arched a brow skeptically.

“I was thinking coffee, since this will probably be a long night. What with you refusing to talk and all,” Julieta said conversationally. “But if you talk to me, I suppose I could join you with tea.”

“Are you insane?” Pepa gaped at her sister. “If you have coffee now you won’t be able to sleep all night, and then you’ll be miserable tomorrow.”

“You’re miserable now.” Julieta rubbed circles around her temples, irritation creeping into her voice.

“Yeah, but if you don’t get any sleep, you won’t be able to help anyone in the morning.”

“I’m helping you now; you’re the one in need. Everyone else can get in line.”

“Julieta-“

“Pepa.” Julieta’s tone signaled finality. She held up two canisters. “Which will it be: coffee or tea?”

Pepa rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she relented. “I’ll talk.”

“Good choice.” Julieta shook out some tea leaves into the mug and poured hot water on top of them. “Now tell me, what happened?”

“I had a nightmare.” Pepa clearly wasn’t planning to volunteer any more information.

“So you said earlier. What happened in it?” She stirred some sugar into her tea, pretending not to see the tear Pepa wiped out of her eye.

“You’ll think it’s silly,” she argued.

“Pepa, I promise I won’t think it’s silly.” She sat next to her sister. “Talk to me.”

“Okay, but if you laugh, I’m, I’m,” she drew herself up, straightening her shoulders, “I’m never telling you anything again,” she threatened.

“I would never laugh, Pepa.” Julieta reached out for her hand, rubbing her thumb across the back of it. “What happened?”

“I was at a wedding. It was a beautiful sunny day. The pews were full of people. At the front of the church there was a bride, looking absolutely stunning. And across from her was the groom.”

“Okay…well, that doesn’t seem bad so far…” Julieta furrowed her brow in confusion.

“Let me finish.”

“Sorry.” Julieta gestured for her to continue.

“The groom turned around, and it was Antonio.” Pepa burst into tears, showering the table.

“How is that a bad thing?”

“M-my Toñito, mi bebé precioso, all grown up, getting married,” she blubbered, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeves. “My last little baby was leaving the nest. He didn’t need me anymore.”

“Ah…” Julieta nodded understandingly. “You’re afraid of them growing up.”

Pepa’s lip quivered as the tears spilled down her face. “Do-Dolores is already an adult. Her wedding is probably just around the corner. But I can’t think about Camilo or Antonio being there yet. They’re still my babies. I need them to still be my babies.”

“All of them are still your babies, Pepa.” Julieta rubbed her back soothingly. “Just because Dolores is an adult doesn’t mean she’s not still your baby.”

“She doesn’t need me anymore,” Pepa pouted, crying into her tea.

“She will always need her mamá,” Julieta reassured her.

“And then she’s going to leave me. And then Camilo and Antonio will leave me. And then I’ll be all alone and no one will need me and-“

“Whoa.” Julieta grabbed her shoulders to stop her from spiraling. “No one is leaving you, Pepa.”

“Dolores and Mariano are going to get married-“

“Yeah, we got married too. Did we leave mamá?” Julieta questioned.

Pepa frowned. “No…”

“Did you stop needing mamá after you married Félix?”

Pepa barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding? I will never stop needing mamá!”

“There you go.” Julieta swept her hands in a “problem solved” gesture. “So why would your children be any different?”

Pepa snorted into her tea. “Stop using logic when I’m upset,” she complained. “It’s not fair.”

“All I’m saying is,” Julieta took Pepa’s hands in her own, “you have nothing to worry about. I’m sure Félix agrees.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for Pepa’s reaction.

Pepa became very interested in a scratch on the table. “Félix…doesn’t actually know,” she admitted.

“You didn’t tell him?” Julieta was surprised. Those two told each other everything.

“I didn’t want him to think I was ridiculous.”

“Really?” Julieta scoffed. “You’ve been married over twenty years. He would never think you’re being ridiculous. He loves you, and he’d do anything for you. He’d want to know when you're upset.”

“That’s why I got into a different cot. I was still upset and didn’t want to rain on him.” She stirred her spoon around her empty mug, clanking it on the sides.

“Pepa…that’s really sweet, but you know you don’t have to protect any of us from your feelings, right?” Julieta put an arm around her shoulder. “We’re your family. We’re here for you.”

Pepa shrugged. “I guess. But I know it can be… a lot sometimes.”

“Which is all the more reason for you not to carry it alone,” Julieta said pointedly. She drained her tea and watched Pepa out of the corner of her eye. “I caught that yawn,” she informed her. “Back to bed.” She grabbed Pepa by the shoulders and marched her back upstairs, ignoring her protests.

They finally stopped in front of Julieta’s bedroom door. Pepa jerked like she was going to leave, but Julieta caught her arm.

“Stay.” It wasn’t a request.

Pepa shook her head. “Julieta, I-“

“The bed is made up, and you need sleep.” Julieta yawned softly. “I do too. I’ll feel better knowing you’re nearby.” Her facial expression softened

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” Pepa acquiesced.

“Good.” Julieta smiled.

“Julieta…thanks,” Pepa whispered, a small smile lighting up her face.

“Anytime, hermanita.” Julieta wrapped her up in a tight hug. “Remember, you’re not alone. None of us are ever going to leave you.”

“That a promise?”

“That’s a threat.”

Pepa’s laugh tinkled through the air. “Good. I don’t want to imagine life without you guys.”

“You don’t have to.” Julieta walked Pepa back to the cot she was in before. “Buenas noches.” But when she turned around, she saw Pepa getting into the other cot with Félix, snuggling up into him.

“Those are really only meant for one per-“ she objected, then shook her head good-naturedly. Let them have this one. A broken cot was better than a broken heart.