#week1

I couldn't not to Bonus Prompt: “It’s too early for this.”

She is unfamiliar with him yet, unaware of just how inept he is with the subject of nightmares. Not his own, of course. He has experienced plenty in his years. But with his brothers’. He has never been the first choice for comfort. Not even the second or third. They would rely first on their own methods of self-soothing than come to him. That is a fair and logical assessment. He understands in the same vein that it grieves him. 

After all, he did not choose to be as he is. And in all his vast and impressive knowledge, he cannot seem to figure out any other way to be. He can rewire innumerable systems effortlessly, and yet his own mind is untouchable. It is frustrating, but it is a fact. He has come to reluctantly accept it. 

Omega does not know that. Not yet. 

But she will. She is incredibly observant. It is only a matter of time. 

Tech turns to face the doorway and acknowledges her fully. “Omega.” 

The little clone girl stands there, stiffly, Wrecker’s worn stuffed animal strangled in her narrow arms. They watch each other for several long moments. Tech is not sure what she is waiting for. Or what he is waiting for, for that matter. 

He clears his throat. “Is there something I can assist you with?” 

Omega blinks at him, and she suddenly looks all too much like a young Crosshair. Pale hair and knowing eyes, searching his face for something Tech could never hope to grasp. But Crosshair is gone, and Omega is here. 

Tech moves his gaze to the ship floor between his boots.

“I dreamed I was still on Kamino,” Omega tells him. 

Tech nods. “I see. That must have been disorienting.” 

Omega makes a quiet noise of assent. Then, “Can I stay with you?” 

Tech forces himself to look up at her soft, open expression. “If that would be helpful, of course.” 

Omega smiles at him, and Crosshair vanishes behind the gentle expression. “Thanks, Tech.” She moves to the copilot’s seat and climbs up; one arm still protectively wrapped around Lula’s stuffed neck. Omega shifts and adjusts her position to make herself comfortable. 

Silence reclaims the cockpit, but Tech cannot find it in himself to go back to his previous task. So, he waits attentively, should Omega want to say or ask anything else. 

Tech is surprised when his own voice speaks up, unprompted. “You are here, and you are safe, Omega. I find that it is helpful to reiterate known facts when one’s subconscious has suggested falsehood.” 

Omega smiles at him, and if he isn’t mistaken, there is something like relief evident in the sudden slack of her shoulders. “It helps more when you say it,” she tells him. 

Surprise seems to be Tech’s other companion in the cockpit tonight. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Omega says, but to his disappointment, she does not elaborate further. 

“Any of the others would have said as much,” Tech assures her. 

“But it’s different hearing it from the smartest person in the whole galaxy,” Omega returns indulgently. 

A warmth of pride floods his chest cavity, even if her assessment is an astronomical exaggeration. “Well,” he tells her, chuckling. “I am seldom wrong.” 

Omega’s smile deepens. “That’s why I knew you’d help me most.” 

Most. 

More than Hunter or Wrecker or Echo. 

Gratified by this unexpected turn of events, Tech smiles back. Perhaps Omega is more aware than he initially anticipated. 

Fascinating.