“Having a family portrait done is not going to kill you.”

“It might.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Omega says, clapping her hands on the table as she stands up. “Go change so you can help me wrestle Batcher into her sweater.” 

Crosshair gapes. “Batcher?” 

“Yes!” Omega cries, exasperated. 

“I am not matching with Batcher.” 

“Yes, we all are.” 

“Make me.”

Crosshair glares at his reflection in the mirror. The sweater is garish, bright colors and - ugh - fun. 

“It’s very…Pabu,” Hunter had said tactfully when Omega introduced the monstrosities a week ago. 

Omega beamed. “Good! That’s what I was hoping for.” 

Any disdainful comment had withered and died on Crosshair’s tongue. 

“Aww, don’t you look handsome, Cross,” Wrecker booms from the bedroom door. 

Crosshair levels his brother a look from the mirror’s reflection. Wrecker is crammed into an identical, hideous sweater. And there’s going to be permanent evidence of this monstrosity forever. What were they thinking? This was a terrible idea. 

“Fix your face before Omega sees.” 

Crosshair’s gaze slides to the intruder at Wrecker’s elbow. He won’t admit he’s missed the reg, but his eyeroll says it for him. “Omega got you a sweater too.” 

Echo grins. “Oh, I helped pick them.”

“You didn’t.” 

“I did. With you in mind.”

Wrecker laughs, clapping a hand to Echo’s shoulder. “Nice one!” 

Echo’s smile deepens, a genuine warmth there that manages to melt through Crosshair’s icy annoyance. 

“Nothing? No comeback? No retort?” Echo asks, chuckling. “I think I broke him.”

Crosshair shrugs. “I’m just surprised Omega came to you for fashion advice.”

Echo rolls his eyes. “And there it is.” 

Crosshair tugs at the hem of the sweater. “But really, why this?” 

“Our armor.”

Crosshair looks down, and sees it. Colors from their past. Clone Force 99, the 501st, the 212th.

Kriff. 

Were these ugly sweaters actually gonna make him cry now?

“I miss our old armor sometimes,” Wrecker says, brushing a finger over the knitted color of crimson paint. “Don’t you?” 

Crosshair swallows, turning away to hide the karking tears burning at his eyes. He feigns interest in a knickknack on his dresser. “Maybe…we should repaint it. What’s left of it.”

“We should!” Wrecker crows enthusiastically, “It’ll be just like the good ol’ days.” 

But it won’t be. Not exactly. Those days were before the war showed its true colors, before their family had broken apart and got pieced back together. 

Crosshair doesn’t say any of those things. “Yeah, it will.” 

A/N: This is the final product of the 10 prompt sandwich I challenged myself to...I wrote 50 word sections based on winning prompt votes, choose-your-own-adventure-style! Thanks to everyone who voted and made this story possible 🫶

Prompts (In order of use) | Bonus Prompt 4: "Do you know what today is?" | Week 7: Family Portrait | Week 10: "Make me." | Bonus Prompt 3: Pabu Culture | Week 5: "In retrospect, this was a bad idea." | Bonus Prompt 10: Reunion | Week 11: "I think I broke something." | Week 10: Clone Culture | Week 8: "Do you ever miss it?" | Week 11: A Call from the Past

DISTRESS CALL

“Hunter, we have incoming.”

Tech’s unexpected declaration had all of them on their feet, their family dinner abandoned.

“The Empire?” Hunter asked, eyes scanning the sky, expecting to see a Star Destroyer appear above them any second. Had the Empire finally remembered they existed and had come back to finish the job?

He reached for the vibroblade he now had strapped to his leg. It had been over three years since they had permanently settled on Pabu and all of their blasters were stored safely away in their home. They hadn’t needed them, had hoped to never use them again. But it looked like it was finally time to dust them off.

“Not unless the Empire is now sending messages before they invade,” Tech said, typing away at his datapad.

“A message?” Hunter was caught off guard for the second time in under a minute. “Who from? What does it say?”

Teck pressed a button on his datapad and a recorded message played.

“Hello? We need your help! My friend is hurt and she said this place was safe. That I could trust you. We’re coming in.”

Just then, a ship trailing smoke descended from the clouds, heading straight for the top of Pabu.

“That’s Ventress’ ship!” Omega exclaimed.

“The Separatist assassin?” Tech asked, looking alarmed.

“She’s a friend,” Omega said, already making her way to the gate of the terrace.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Hunter grumbled, but was already moving to follow Omega. He knew there was no use in trying to stop her.

By the time they all reached the top of the island, blasters recovered from the house, the unique but familiar ship was parked in the center of the plaza. It was sitting lopsided, the starboard wing and landing gear having sustained serious damage and were still smoking. The door above the port wing was open but neither of the passengers was anywhere to be seen.

“Crosshair, you’re with me. The rest of you, stay here and stay alert. This could still be a trap.”

“But why would-?”

“No ‘but’s, Omega,” Hunter said. “Stay there.” He and Crosshair were already climbing their way towards the door. Hunter took point, blaster at the ready as he carefully entered the tilted ship.

Burning smells hit Hunter’s nose, both electrical and biological. He honed in on the latter, following it towards the rear of the dim ship where he also heard movement.

“Ventress?” he called out, and instantly a brilliant blue light blazed to life.

A lightsaber.

“W-who are you?”

It was the same voice from the message, and Hunter could now see that it and the lightsaber belonged to a young man, maybe slightly older than Omega, who was hunched protectively over a still form lying awkwardly in a nearly-sideways bunk.

“We’re the people your friend there said you could trust,” Hunter said, holding his blaster up at a non-threatening angle.

The Jedi eyed them both, Crosshair still standing in the doorway, Firepuncher pointed to the side.

“You’re…you’re clones!” He adjusted his stance and the grip on his lightsaber to a more ready position, prepared to fight and defend at less than a moment’s notice.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Hunter urged. “We’re here to help. We’re not going to hurt you.”

“If we wanted you dead, you would be already.”

“Not helping, Crosshair,” Hunter hissed back.

“Wait. Crosshair?” The young man seemed to relax slightly. “Ventress mentioned you before.” His eyes shifted. “Which means you’re…Hunter?”

Hunter nodded. “That’s right. And Wrecker and Omega are outside.” He figured that if the kid knew their names, he’d know the others’ as well.

It did the trick. The young Jedi powered down his lightsaber, plunging the ship back into darkness, but Hunter was still able to see him turn back to Ventress.

“Your friends are here,” he heard him whisper. “We’re going to get you the help you need.” Hunter didn’t hear a reply, didn’t even hear Ventress’ breathing change. She must have been fully unconscious. 

But then inexplicably, she started to move. And not in a normal manner. Her body levitated into the air and started moving towards the door. Hunter turned his gaze to the young man and, sure enough, his arms and hands were stretched out as if controlling Ventress’ body with invisible strings, his face a mask of concentration.

After a bit of maneuvering and catching the kid a few times as his foot slipped on the uneven floor of the ship, they were able to get Ventress out of the ship. Wrecker took her limp form into his arms and walked over to the weeping maya tree, the rest of them right behind him. Once Wrecker set Ventress down Hunter was finally able to see the extent of her injuries.

Three blaster burns decorated her right shoulder and thigh, as well as her left hip. They weren’t life threatening, but they were nasty and needed treatment before they got worse. Hunter set down the med bag the Jedi had instructed him to grab from the ship and together, both the young man and Tech began to clean and treat Ventress’ wounds.

“What happened?” Omega asked, wringing her hands as she stood beside Hunter.

“Our target got the drop on us. And he had friends,” the young man explained, not taking his eyes off of what he was doing. “I was only just able to get us out of there.”

“You’re a bounty hunter, too?” Hunter asked. It was strange to think of someone so young, and a Jedi at that, doing that sort of job.

The young man shrugged. “Gotta make a living somehow.”

“How’d ya meet her?” This time Wrecker was the one to ask the question. Hunter could tell by his face that his brother was wondering the same thing he was: how did a former Jedi Padawan team up with a former Separatist Assassin?

“You help someone one time and you can’t get rid of them.”

They all looked down in surprise as Ventress spoke. She began to sit up.

“Careful!” the young man said.

Ventress waved him off, grimacing as she pressed her back to the tree. “I’ve been through worse. This is nothing.”

“Did you use up one of your lives?” Crosshair quipped.

Ventress smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty more.”

“Didn’t expect to see you again,” Hunter said.

“Likewise.” She looked at Tech. “Though I don’t remember seeing you here before.”

“I was…away,” was all Tech said, adjusting his goggles. There was no need to go into his history now.

“Then I guess I should be grateful that you weren’t away now,” Ventress said, indicating the work he’d done on her leg and shoulder. Her eyes found Omega. “And what about you? Still a target?”

Omega shook her head. “I’m safe now. We all are. And so are you while you’re here.”

Ventress stiffened as she caught sight of something past them.

“Which might end up being a while. Lyco. What did you do to my ship?”

The young man, Lyco, rubbed the back of his neck, looking chagrined.

“I think I…might have broken something getting out of that asteroid field.”

She glowered at him, but Hunter didn’t see any real heat in her gaze. As amazing as it seemed, these two actually did seem to have some sort of friendship.

“Not to worry,” Tech said. “I should be able to get it operational soon enough, though we may need to get some parts off world.”

Ventress looked at him appraisingly and raised an eyebrow.

“A medic and a mechanic?” 

Tech pushed his goggles back up his nose, looking a bit uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

“It’s a good thing you told me to come here,” Lyco said. “You definitely chose the right place!”

Wrecker lies on his back, below you. His legs are angled in a way, that his feet are still on the ground while his knees are up in the sky.

You're sitting on top of him, on his lower belly. Your shins touch the floor next to his butt, and you use his thighs as some kind of backrest.

You're playing with each other's hands, holding them, stroke them, kiss them, while you're talking in soft voices and just enjoy the warm summer afternoon on your balcony.

The others are out, and while you could take that opportunity to do... other things, the two of you are too comfortable to move around much. Besides, it is way too hot. The other thing you could do is swimming, but even for that you are too lazy.

You're talking about different things, your soft murmurs carry through the garden, but it's too quiet to make out words, if someone isn't in the immediate range of the two of you.

You aren't sure how exactly you come up with the topics, but after a while the two of you wallow in nostalgia, remembering your first time together. How shy you've been around his brothers, after quite some months of keeping the relationship as a secret. If it hadn't been for Tech to burst in while the two of you were making out in the Marauder, thinking you were going to be alone for the day, you wouldn't know how long you would have kept it quiet. While you didn't know his brothers and weren't even in the position to tell them, Wrecker didn't really know how to do it and whenever he tried to tell them he got so awkward that he suddenly didn't get a word out. That's what he told you, at least. But in the end, the two of you were glad that it happened like that. Of course it was embarrassing when the first thing his brother sees of you is you making out with his brother, but it took some tightness off Wrecker's chest and he was finally able to happily tell them what was going on.

"I was so proud to tell them that I am in a relationship. That, in fact, I am in a relationship with you! Hehe, and their looks," Wrecker grins wildly and you also have to smile back, when you think about that moment.

"That's sweet to hear, Wrecker. Do you still remember our first date? Who would have thought we would end up like this, here?" you ask, and Wrecker smirks, a rosy blush on his face.

"Well, I didn't. I didn’t think I would get this far. At all," he grins, shaking his head in embarrassment, "That first date was horrible."

"Oh, certainly not only the first date, but also the way you approached me: 'You're so beautiful, I forgot my pickup line.', really?" You laugh and come down a little, so your faces are closer together. 

"Hey, I was being honest! You don't want to know what the initial pickup line was! I was just so stunned and amazed by you when I saw you even closer," he defends himself, and this time you're the one who gets a little flustered.

"Aw, yes, I have to admit that you were lucky that you indeed seemed to be honest. And that you have those happy puppy eyes," you admit and take a loving look in said eyes.

Wrecker looks back. One eye brown, the other a milky white. But both so genuine and kind. There are small wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, that appear with the every smile, and which make you adore him even more. At that moment, it feels like he directly looks into your soul. 

"But the date still was horrible, you had luck that this wasn't your fault either," you grin and Wrecker's smile brightens in the same way.

"Hey, who would have guessed that this restaurant would be so disgusting. And on top of that, those people next to us looked like they were about to stab and mug us," Wrecker says, shaking his head.

"Oh, yes. If I remember correctly, I saw one of their faces on the holonet a few days later, and that they were indeed charged for murder and worse," you agree and Wrecker raises his eyebrows.

"Well, no worries, I could have protected you. And then I would have shown you how to protect yourself. Some skin to skin, you know," he grins, mischievously and you roll your eyes, smiling happily.

Wrecker always tries to make the best out of unpleasant situations, no matter how bad they were.

When he still tried to make the date a good one, even after the horrible visit at that restaurant, you knew that you couldn't just let him slip. You knew you wanted to hold on to him, and wanted to try and see what the future brings.

And now, some years later, after you went through good and bad times, sometimes even more bad than good ones, you're here.

Sitting with him, on top of him, to be exactly, on the balcony of the house you share with his brothers, enjoying the warmth of the tropical island you're on.

If you had told that your earlier self, you wouldn't believe yourself.

"It was a horrible first date, but it certainly was an opening for an unbelievable happy and beautiful time after that," you say and come closer again.

Wrecker nods and smiles: "I'm glad you see it like that. And I think so, too," he says softly and then, he points his lips slightly, ready to receive a small kiss.

Pleased, you do what he wants from you and touch your lips with his.

When you part again, you don't move upwards again, so you can sit on him, but instead adjust your position so you can lay on top of him, putting your face near his neck and breathe in his scent.

He's gentle, he's warm, and the way you feel his breathing and hear his heartbeat makes you feel at home.

Yes, you think and close your eyes. Wrecker is your home.

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