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drafthorsemath · 4 months

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Tooka Dad

Crosshair x Veterinarian OC Rayla

Word Count: 6.331k

Warnings: None really – Fluff, new relationship, cuddling, bed sharing. Brief descriptions of a stray animal in need of medical attention, TLC, and spaying. Brief mentions of Crosshair’s medical trauma / tomophobia.

A/N: This came to my brain and now it’s words. I don’t know what else to say about it. No description of Rayla’s appearance outside of her being fem and using she/her pronouns. Thank you to @staycalmandhugaclone @eclec-tech and @lightwise for the encouragement.

It had been months since Crosshair had rejoined his siblings and they found themselves on Pabu. The adjustment had been difficult. It was still difficult. There were many things he wouldn’t speak about. His brothers gave him some space, not pushing too much, but making sure he knew he wasn’t alone. He, Omega, and Tech had spent time together healing physically after Mt. Tantiss, as well as healing whatever mental wounds they could. Those were taking the most time, especially for Crosshair.

He didn’t want to leave the house today, but Wrecker insisted (in his own Wrecker way) that he come to the docks and help move some cargo. Crosshair rolled his eyes but got to his feet and followed his brother down to the ocean. They spent the morning moving crates from boats on to the docks, but as the sun continued to beam down on them, Crosshair’s eyes started to ache from the light.

“I got it from here,” Wrecker said, knowing his brother’s sensitivity. Crosshair simply nodded his thanks and headed toward some shade. Before he could sit down, he saw something small scamper away from behind one of the crates Wrecker picked up. He followed the movements and kneeled down, looking under a bench that sat under a tree.

“What is it,” Wrecker asked.

A tiny gray tooka kitten peered at them through crusty eyes. Crosshair wasn’t entirely sure how the little creature could see.

“Tooka,” Crosshair answered. Wrecker knelt down further and smiled at the scared kitten.

“A baby tooka? Aww, Crosshair we gotta take it home.” Wrecker smiled and tried to make space so he could grab the little ball of fur, but the kitten would have none of it and scurried to hide behind the other side of the bench.

“Just wait,” the Crosshair advised. His brother sighed but nodded and got back to work. Instead of sitting on the bench, Crosshair sat on the ground next to it. The next two hours were spent waiting for the animal to come out. He wasn’t going to force anything. Wrecker checked in after he was done with the crates. Although the tooka hadn’t moved, he knew that if anyone had the patience to wait it out and earn its trust, it was Crosshair. Wrecker went home, grabbed some lunch, and brought it back. He silently held out some homemade bread and fruit to his brother, sitting next to him as they silently ate. The tooka let out a little squeak and Wrecker saw just the smallest tug of a smile on his Crosshair’s face. Eventually Wrecker decided to head home and help Tech with moving some big equipment.

As the time passed, Crosshair thought of his time away from his siblings. How much doubt and fear were in his heart despite deciding to stay on the platform on Kamino. Of the ongoing pain he had each time his chip was enhanced. The absolute horror in his soul when his actions felt like they were someone else’s, but he knew his hands pulled the trigger. He had never wanted to lose control and yet the Empire had him in its grasp and his mind wasn’t fully his own. He’d been so conditioned and the chip only added another layer of complexity. He closed his eyes and sighed as he pressed his hands flat on the ground beneath him in an attempt to center himself in the here and now. He wasn’t alone anymore. Just as he had this thought, he felt some tiny fluff brush against his hand. He opened his eyes to find the kitten sitting next to his fingertips. He gently picked up the creature and stood. The tooka didn’t make a sound and didn’t fight as Crosshair walked back them back to Upper Pabu. He was fairly certain the lack of fight was only because the animal was fur and bones.

“Tech,” was all he said upon finding his brother working on the Marauder. Tech stood, adjusting his goggles, and raised his eyebrows.

“A tooka,” he replied, “and in a sorry state.”

Crosshair hummed in agreement. Tech knew this was his brother’s way of asking for help. He pulled out his datapad and examined the kitten in Crosshair’s hands.

“There appears to be an eye infection, parasites, and a serious lack of nutrition,” noted Tech. “I could possibly find some food for her, but I cannot immediately find appropriate medication for her ailments. Why don’t you take her to the veterinarian?”

Crosshair sighed. At least he now knew the tooka was a she and some of what was going on with her, but he wasn’t quite sure about a veterinarian. He didn’t want this little girl to be scared any more than she already was and he understood how anything medical might cause her more fear. Then again, she looked miserable and he couldn’t let her stay that way.

“Alright,” he agreed. He didn’t even realize the island had a veterinarian. Tech gave him the location and he headed back down the path.

It had been a long day for Rayla. One of Pabu’s residents had decided to buy a pair of orbaks to help cart goods around and she hadn’t treated anything with hooves since veterinary school. One of them was particularly stubborn, but she liked a good challenge. It was never about forcing something on an animal. It was about reading body language and helping them feel safe enough to get through any needed procedures.

She looked up as a tall man came through the door. She smiled to herself. Rayla had spent time with his brothers since they settled on Pabu and Omega was fascinated with her career choice. They talked about him briefly, but she hadn’t met him yet.

“Hello,” she said with a soft smile. “Crosshair, right? I’m Rayla. How can I help you?”

Crosshair looked at the woman in front of him and then down at the tiny tooka. “Found her,” he said. He didn’t seem surprised she knew his name. There were some people on the island who guessed who he was based on association.

“How about you come back to the exam room and we’ll take a look,” Rayla offered. He simply nodded and followed. Crosshair looked around the room, almost more afraid than the tooka. There were various instruments, and he was sure there were even more in the cabinet. The veterinarian washed her hands and put on some gloves.

“How about we start with a weight,” she suggested, nodding to the scale. Crosshair put the kitten down, almost afraid to let go. She weighed much less than she should. Rayla noted her weight and then suggested a particular food for her. He nodded and moved her off the scale. He couldn’t quite keep his hands off her, trying to keep the contact while the exam was completed for fear of losing her or seeing her scared.

“She’s got an eye infection. I can give you drops for those and show you how to put them in.” He nodded. He noticed Rayla stopped and gave the kitten a little break and spoke kindly to her before looking through her fur.

“She has fleas too.”

His eyes got wide, but he still didn’t pull away from her.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Fleas are species specific. Her fleas won’t harm anyone but other tookas. We can give her a flea bath now if you’d like.” Crosshair nodded and let out a little relieved breath.

He held on to her while Rayla filled a small tub with warm water. Crosshair tentatively put the small creature in the tub. While the veterinarian worked the shampoo in and rinsed, he held the kitten and helped keep her head up. The little tooka clung to his thumb with her front legs and Rayla couldn’t help but smile.

“She’s really taken with you,” she said.

“Mm,” was all he let out, but his eyes went soft.

“Are you planning on keeping her or would you like me to find her a hom-“

“No,” he firmly blurted out before quieting his tone again. “I’ll keep her.”

“Sounds good,” she replied, getting a towel.

Crosshair took it upon himself to wrap her up. Rayla showed him how to put drops in her eyes.

“In about a week you could give her a dewormer pill.”

He nodded and followed her out of the room. She gathered the dewormer pill, some food for the kitten - explaining that for the time being she needed food that would be easy on her digestive system - and a lightweight slip lead. Rayla put everything in a bag and handed it to him. Getting out a data pad for her records, she asked if the newly adopted animal had a name yet.

“Vaar’ika,” he said.

“What does it mean,” she asked curiously.

“Pip-squeak.” Just as he said that, Vaar’ika let out tiny peep that made Rayla smile. She entered the relevant information.

“Well then,” she replied, “congratulations Vaar’ika. And congratulations Tooka Dad.”

Crosshair felt warmth flood his cheeks and ears, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He nodded at all Rayla’s directions about the dewormer and a follow up appointment.

As he left, Rayla couldn’t help but think that she quite liked him. He may have said very few words, but he was so expressive. He was easy for her to read and she knew she could trust a man who adopted an ailing kitten without question.

Crosshair took Vaar’ika home. Wrecker had already told Echo, Hunter, and Omega about her and Omega waited at the window to meet this new addition to the family. Crosshair came through the door and held the little one close to his chest. She was exhausted and he could feel her little body shake from the stress of the day.

“I want to help,” Omega declared.

Crosshair didn’t say anything as he walked toward his bedroom. He simply nodded in the general direction of the hallway and Omega’s smile grew as she knew it meant she could follow him. Crosshair put the tiny bundle on his bed and started looking for something to make a tooka bed.

“What’s wrong with her eyes,” Omega asked.

“Infection,” Crosshair answered. “Needs to be given eye drops for a few days at least.”

“I can help,” Omega answered.

“Omega,” Crosshair warned. He knew she was excited, but he wanted to approach the kitten’s treatment in a methodical way. He looked at his sister for several moments and then nodded. “Fine, but she won’t need more drops until tomorrow.”

Crosshair shuffled through his belongings in his closet and found an old pair of blacks. He used a spare pillow to make something of a little bed with the blacks as a bedding. He placed the new bed on the floor near his own. Omega watched as the little tooka crawled on the bed closer to her brother. He put her on the new bed and quietly told her he’d be back soon. Omega followed him down the hall and grinned at her other brothers who were all at least a bit curious about their new roommate. While Crosshair grabbed a small plate and spoon and headed back to his room, Omega helped Echo and Hunter with dinner.

Vaar’ika was hiding under his bed, but Crosshair sat down, opened a can of food, and spooned out a little on the plate. He placed it on the floor and she came out to eat. He smiled while watching her eat. She had an appetite and he knew that was important in her healing. He retrieved a little bowl of water for her and gave her a bit more food. After she finished eating and drinking, she jumped up on the window and pawed at it. Crosshair pursed his lips and then decided to take her outside. He looped the leash around her and picked her up. His hunch was right. Almost immediately, she found a spot to relieve herself. Maybe he had lucked out when it came to house training.

When finished, she tried climbing his leg and he picked her up. Her eyes were less messy than they were before, and he could make out the way she looked at him. He felt a little glow in his heart at the thought that this creature had chosen him and wanted to be with him. He took her back inside, took off the leash, and placed her back on the makeshift bed. During dinner with his siblings some questions were asked, but no one asked if he would be keeping her. Based on what they saw, they knew she would stay and it would be a good change.

Once dinner was over, Crosshair made his way back to his room to give Vaar’ika another small meal. She ate it quickly and climbed on the window again. He took her out and this time she wandered around a little bit, exploring her new home. He took her back in, holding her in the crook of his arm and heading to bed. He placed her on her own bed, but once he climbed into his own, he could see her moving in the darkness. She made her way up the side of his bed post and purred as she snuggled against his chest. Crosshair smiled to himself and fluffed her hair before they drifted off to sleep together.

Crosshair spent the next few days helping her find her feet. They established morning and evening walk routes. He purchased a little pink collar for her, making sure it included her name and his. It wasn’t long before he was comfortable taking her around off-leash. She never wandered too far and for the most part, seemed to like watching this world from her perch on his shoulders. He let Omega hold Vaar’ika when it was time to put her eyedrops in, but he never let Omega put the drops in. Finally Omega managed to wear him down and convinced him to let her try. Crosshair held the kitten, holding her back to his chest and supporting her back end with one hand. Omega approached the tooka’s eyes with the dropper bottle, aiming for the middle of her left eye.

“Omega, no!” It came out a little louder than he meant. He leaned back to pull his little bundle away. He gave his sister a warning look. She looked confused and a little hurt. He took a deep breath and found calm again. Until he had visited Rayla, he wouldn’t have known what to do either. It wasn’t fair to expect Omega to know without help.

“Aim for the corner of her eyes. It’s easier that way.” He offered her a smile and Omega tried again, this time leaving a couple little drops in each corner of Vaar’ika’s eyes.

“Perfect,” he said to his sister. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” Omega replied.

He was supposed to give the tooka her dewormer pill, but wasn’t sure he could do it and certainly didn’t expect Omega to. He remembered Rayla’s instructions as he sat Vaar’ika on his bed and held the tiny pill between his thumb and finger.

“Simply open her mouth, pop the pill in, and hold her mouth closed until she swallows,” Rayla had said. He hadn’t thought much about it since at the time, he knew it was a future problem and he was only focused on eye drops and establishing some routines. Now that it came to it, he looked at his little friend and couldn’t just open her mouth. And what, he thought. Force her to swallow a pill? It reminded him too much of the procedures he and his brothers had been forced through. He remembered thinking a warning before a necessary injection or asking him if he was ready would have helped him a great deal as a young cadet, yet he had never really been afforded that dignity.

He sighed to himself, picked up Vaar’ika and the pill, and marched to the vet clinic. Rayla was just finishing with a client and about to go to lunch when he walked in.

“Crosshair!” She beamed at him, happy to see him with the tooka. “And Vaar’ika. How are you?”

“I can’t give her the pill,” he said directly.

“Did she not want it,” Rayla asked. Many animals had trouble taking medication and it wasn’t an uncommon concern. “Did she spit it up?”

“No,” Crosshair said, revealing he still had the pill in its original form. “I can’t make her take it.”

Rayla sensed a great amount of empathy in him. He seemed scared to hurt this kitten, this small creature he’d already becoming so very attached to.

“She might take it if you mix it in her food. Is she still eating?”

Crosshair nodded.

“Okay,” Rayla acknowledged. “Cut the pill in quarters and put it in her dinner tonight. If she doesn’t eat it all, stop by tomorrow and we’ll see about another way.”

Crosshair nodded again.

“May I,” Rayla asked, hands out to touch the tooka. Crosshair nodded a third time and Rayla petted the little pile of fluff. She purred at the vet.

“I’m glad to see her eyes have cleared up,” she said. “She probably doesn’t need the drops anymore after tomorrow. Just keep the rest of the bottle should she need them in the future. She already looks so much better. She’ll need a few vaccines as soon as you feel she’s strong enough and she’ll be old enough to spay in a couple months. Unless you want more kittens.”

Crosshair froze a bit. He’d assumed that was further down the road, but not this soon. He didn’t want her to get pregnant. He wanted to do the responsible thing for her and was sure Hunter would have a few words with him if there were kittens. Besides, he didn’t want to worry about her going through pregnancy and labor.

“Let’s schedule that now,” he said.

Rayla nodded and pulled up her schedule. He’d be back in a week for the vaccines. They decided on a day for the spaying and she gave him instructions for what to do the night before and day of as far as food and water.

“See you both in a week for vaccines,” she said as they left.

Crosshair held Vaar’ika a little closer to his chest, hugging her before letting her perch on his shoulders. He didn’t like the thought of putting her through surgery or even the vaccinations. He knew they were necessary, but he didn’t want her in pain ever. Still, he knew it was for the best. To help him relax, he took the long way home, chuckling as Vaar’ika hissed at a few moon-yos who tried reaching for her. His thoughts also went to this veterinarian. Most people on the island were nice enough, but he didn’t let anyone close. This person was watching him at some very vulnerable moments whether she knew it or not.

That evening he cut the dewormer pill up into quarters and mixed it into the tooka food. He placed the plate down and Vaar’ika started eating. She paused at one point, knowing there was something different, and Crosshair held his breath. She took a taste and didn’t seem to mind and finished the entire thing. He felt so much relief. That night, like every night at this point, the kitten climbed into his bed and slept cuddled up against him. When she got up to stretch her feet or if she needed to go outside, he immediately woke up at the loss of her tiny body’s warmth. Then they’d get back to bed and fall asleep together.

Crosshair started finding reasons to visit the vet clinic in the days leading up to vaccination day. The smallest question about changing her food as she grew, asking questions about exercise, and some of the more mundane things. He knew that he just wanted to see Rayla and have an excuse to get outside with Vaar’ika. Rayla didn’t mind. He always patiently waited if she was already with someone or had an appointment. She liked seeing him and the positive impact the tooka and the sniper had on each other. She let Crosshair say as much or as little as he wanted. She asked questions but knew when to back off. She wasn’t a completely open book, but she shared parts of herself with him too. He got curious and asked how she ended up on Pabu one day after she’d shown him how to make sure the kitten’s nails didn’t get too long. She explained how she left her home world when the Empire started taking over cities on the other side of her planet. She wasn’t going to wait around to see what would happen.

“Smart,” he replied. Rayla smiled sadly. She missed her former home, but knew she was lucky to be here. The threat of sea surges was much less daunting than dealing with the Empire.

“See you next time, Crosshair.”

He let a tiny smile escape and he left.

When he showed up for the kitten’s scheduled vaccines, he was a bit of a mess. He didn’t want her to be upset or hurt, but he also didn’t want to risk her dying of something preventable.

“I’ll be quick and I’ll use the smallest needle I have,” Rayla promised. “Do you want me to take her in the back and just get it over with or do you want to be with her.” She knew some animals did better away from their nervous person, but it was very much a case-by-case situation.

“I can’t leave her,” he replied.

Rayla nodded and instinctively put a hand on his arm. He let out a breath. They went back in the exam room and she weighed the tooka, noticing she’d put on a good amount of weight.

“Would you like to sit and hold her instead of keeping her on the exam table,” the vet asked.

Crosshair nodded and sat down, holding Vaar’ika. A small smile pulled at his cheek and he relaxed as she looked up at him. She wasn’t scared. The little fluff ball was just happy to be with him.

“I’ll be quick. Just two little jabs. Here we go.” Rayla moved quickly and precisely. The kitten let out a couple of squeaks, but nothing too bad. After it was over, Rayla smiled as she heard him quietly telling Vaar’ika what a great job she did. As he was about to leave, Rayla decided to take her chance.

“Hey, not to be too forward,” she started, suddenly feeling very nervous now that she was putting this into words. Crosshair turned back to look at her curiously.

She continued, trying to keep any shakiness at bay. “You’ve stopped by a lot and we’ve gotten to know each other more and I was just thinking… if you want to spend some time together after hours, let me know.”

“Dinner,” he asked.

“I’d like that,” she replied.

“Tomorrow?”

“You know when I close.”

“I’ll be here.”

Both felt a warmth radiate over their cheeks as they said their goodbyes for the day. Crosshair carried his little bundle home while his mind ran wild with all kinds of thoughts. He didn’t want to let his nerves get to him and at the same time, he was giddy at the thought of spending more time with Rayla. He had to grin to himself. She liked his company. He hadn’t gotten very close to anyone who wasn’t a clone. There was an understanding with his brothers. He’d grown up with them. Omega was incredibly understanding of everyone, almost to the point of his annoyance. Even with the regs, there was an understanding. Learning about someone in-depth with a completely different background was a newer experience to him, but he found that Rayla embraced each bit of himself that he revealed. Even when he was having an extra grumpy and stressful day, she seemed happy to see him.

The next evening, he left Vaar’ika with Wrecker and Omega. They were more than happy to babysit the tooka. They were having a movie night and Crosshair knew she would be doing her utmost to steal their snacks. The thought made him very happy.

He tried to pick out his nicest outfit and headed to the vet clinic. He sat in the waiting room and listened to Rayla explain the medication dosage for someone’s pet bird. Rayla joined him a few minutes after the bird and their owner left. She’d quickly changed out of her scrubs and into a simple dress before joining him.

“You look nice,” she said with a smile.

“So do you.”

“I thought I’d try to wear something nicer than my scrubs,” she replied.

“You’d look nice in anything,” he said as heat rose to his cheeks.

Rayla wasn’t sure what to say. She felt seen and beamed up at him. They headed to a quiet restaurant on the other side of the island. While people all tended to know each other on Pabu, they both wanted some time just the two of them so the calmer spot seemed more ideal. They ordered and sat while watching the sun start to set.

“I’ll level with you,” Rayla said. “I’ve talked to your siblings. I feel like I know quite a bit about you, but I want to learn about you from you.”

He simply nodded. “Not much to say,” he replied.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Rayla asked him some questions, wanted to know a bit about sniping, and how he liked the island. She was also interested in his enhanced skills. The scientist in her was curious, but she wanted to keep it respectful. Crosshair’s comments were short as usual, but as time went by and they ate, he shared a bit more about himself. For now, they avoided the topic of the Empire.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said before taking a sip of his drink. He was much more interested in learning about her than talking about himself.

“I think you already know a lot about me from our earlier conversations,” she answered.

“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully with a bit of a smile on his face. “Have you always worked alone? You do so much.”

“I had a vet tech until I came here. Actually, I purchased a GH-7 medical droid recently and I’m trying to modify it for veterinary work.”

“Tech will be pleased to hear that,” Crosshair replied. “He loves those kinds of projects. He’ll pick your brain next time he sees you.” Crosshair was pleased too. He saw how hard she worked and felt she needed a bit of a break sometimes. Having an assistant could go a long way in helping make her job easier.

“I’m sure. If I run into trouble Tech’s the first person I’d ask for help when it comes to droids.” She took a couple more bites of food and added, “Of course it helps to have the personal touch and I’ll still be very involved. It’ll just help to have a droid to do some of the more routine and boring things, measuring out and compounding medication, answering comms, billing, ordering supplies, passing my tools during surgeries, and making sure procedures are as precise as possible.” She then told a story about a droid she knew in vet school who was reprogrammed to only want to work on massiffs. A couple of her fellow vet students thought it would be funny for the professor’s droid to randomly refuse to help with other animals during demonstrations and who tried to switch places with other droids so it could work exclusively on massiffs. He watched her with a soft smile on his face while she told this story. As she finished, she paused for a moment.

“Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to go on. It was just a silly thing to watch unfold.”

“No, I liked it,” he replied. He didn’t want her to stop. “Dessert?”

She beamed and nodded. They shared a piece of cake topped with all kinds of local fruit. He let her have the last bite but hoped it wouldn’t be the last time they shared a meal. He walked her home and once at the door bit his lip as his eyes darted a bit.

“Could we do this again,” he asked.

“What are you doing on Benduday?”

Each date felt a little more comfortable than the last. His favorite dates were whenever they would go out on a boat together just the two of them. It was incredibly peaceful and gave him the chance to be a bit more open without worrying about anyone else around them.

One evening she was supposed to meet him at the restaurant and didn’t. He’d brought flowers and wore a new shirt and definitely didn’t love the feeling of sitting at the table alone. He thought to himself that this was the first time in a long time where he was consistently seeking the presence of another instead of solitude. Before he could spiral and let too many negative thoughts enter his mind, he decided to check at the clinic. He knew there might have been an emergency that required her attention. When he arrived, the clinic door was unlocked and he saw a light coming from an exam room. He let himself in and sat in the waiting area.

In the exam room, Rayla explain the situation to the worried owner. Her scans indicated a foreign object blocking the stomach and she and GHost – the now modified GH-7 droid – completed surgery to remove the offending mass. She sent the patient and their person home with a course of medication to help. Not long after they left, Rayla came out to find Crosshair dozing in his chair. She walked up to him and kissed his forehead.

“Mm.” He opened his eyes to look up at her. “Missed you.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It was an emergency.”

“I know,” he replied, standing up and kissing her cheek. “These are for you.”

She took the flowers and kissed him again. “They’re lovely. Thank you.” After a pause and check of the time, she added, “I’ll clean up quickly. Walk me home?”

He simply nodded. She cleaned off all the equipment and the table in the exam room, turned out the lights, and took his hand. They took their time walking together. It was a pleasant night and both were a little sad they didn’t get to have a relaxing dinner together.

“We should go out after Vaar’ika heals from her spay surgery,” Rayla suggested, knowingly adding, “I know you won’t want to leave her until she’s all healed up.”

“I just want to make sure she’ll be okay,” he answered. “But yes. I’d like that.”

She squeezed his hand and they grinned at each other.

The night before Vaar’ika’s spay, Crosshair was a mess. He barely slept. The only thing that calmed him down was the little tooka herself. She had no idea what was coming but was simply living in the moment and in this moment, she wanted to sleep on his chest. He sat in front of a holovid with his family and slowly stroked the her soft fur. They fell asleep together as usual, but the next morning, his jitters were back.

He walked her to the clinic, letting her perch on his shoulder, but carrying a crate since she would still be drowsy on the way home and Rayla insisted she needed a crate to limit movement while she healed.

“Good morning,” Rayla said as they came through the door. “Ready?”

Crosshair didn’t respond but tried to smile.

“She’s going to do great. I even have my droid GHost ready to go, unless you aren’t comfortable with him assisting me.”

Crosshair simply shook his head that he didn’t mind. “I trust you.”

Rayla took Vaar’ika and the crate as Crosshair tried to decide if he wanted to sit or pace. Her experience said that getting this over with was the best plan. Her voice softened and she tried to reassure him.

“It won’t take long. I’ll make sure she has pain management and that she’s fully anesthetized, so she doesn’t feel anything during the procedure.”

He nodded and sat down. Rayla took the tooka to the back to prepare her for surgery. GHost weighed her and drew the appropriate levels of medication. As the tooka went to sleep and Rayla shaved her belly, Crosshair could hear the calm way she addressed his little companion.

“Looks like you’re asleep already. Oxygen levels and heart rate are normal. Let’s begin.” It wasn’t long before Crosshair heard her say, “There’s that little uterus. Tiny thing. Already out. Let’s close.”

Crosshair started shaking but breathed through it. The adrenaline that was coursing through his system all morning had finally started to wear off and it left him feeling a bit dizzy. He sat back and focused on his breathing while he heard the woman he loved talking sweetly to Vaar’ika. Not long after, Rayla reappeared with a sleepy tooka in the crate. Without thinking about it, Crosshair embraced her as he became overwhelmed with relief.

“She did great, love. She really did. She should heal up perfectly.” Rayla went over care instructions and ended it with “She should stay in her crate as much as possible for the first week. No climbing or jumping. I used surgical glue that has some bacta in it so she will heal faster. Try to keep that cone on her so she doesn’t lick.” Crosshair nodded. “And comm me if anything comes up.”

Vaar’ika slept most of the day. She whined a bit at dinner time and Crosshair let her outside only long enough to relieve herself and then it was back inside before she could go exploring. She seemed like her normal self but was also pretty groggy. He ate in his room so he could watch her and made sure she took her medication and ate enough. That night, he knew he was supposed to let her sleep in her crate, but the drugs from earlier had worn off enough that she knew exactly where she was and didn’t understand why she wasn’t allowed to sleep in bed with him. She cried until he relented and purred as she snuggled up against him in his comfortable bed.

The next morning was the hardest. She felt an ache at the incision site and it clearly hurt her to move compared to yesterday, despite the pain medication. He tried not to think too hard about it, feeling unsure of when to ask for help and what was normal. She’d had surgery after all, it was impossible for her to feel completely healed in less than a single day. He laid around the house with her, cuddling her close since that seemed to help her stay more comfortable. He was grumpier with his siblings, though. He tried to keep to himself, but once Omega and Wrecker started playing and making a bit of a racket, he took Vaar’ika to the clinic. He wasn’t sure exactly why he was going. He didn’t think it was an emergency, but knew Rayla would be done with her work, barring anything urgent. He sat in the waiting room and talked gently to the little ball of tired fluff laying in his arms. He rhythmically stroked her fur, but didn’t feel her usual happy purr.

“She okay,” Rayla asked, appearing as she finished cleaning up the exam room.

“Not sure,” Crosshair replied.

“Mind if I look?”

Crosshair handed the tooka over to Rayla who carefully turned her over.

“Looks like it’s healing fine. Don’t see any sign of infection. She might just be in a bit more pain than anticipated. I can give her an extra little med patch if you want to try that.”

Crosshair nodded. As Rayla retrieved a patch and cut it down to the right size, she asked, “What else is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a lot on your mind and you look… gruff.”

He shook his head and let out a breath. “Just worried about her and it’s loud at home.”

“Well, you’re welcome to have some quiet time here. I have some paperwork to do, some blood tests to analyze, and then I’m headed home. You’re welcome to join me if the two of you need a change of pace.”

Crosshair’s eyes warmed and he returned her familiar smile. He sat back down and went back to petting Vaar’ika until she fell asleep. The patch seemed to help her feel better and by extension, he felt better. Rayla worked nearby, looking through her datapad, taking inventory, and updating her notes as she went along. The rest of the day went by without a hitch. It was a good day when there were no major emergencies. She made sure her comm was on, knowing that some days no one needed her until she left for home. She packed up and walked home with Crosshair and Vaar’ika. As they headed down the road, she broke the silence.

“She hasn’t slept in her crate, has she?”

Crosshair grinned almost shyly. “She’s used to sleeping with me. She stays still.”

“As long as she’s still. Don’t want her hurting her incision.”

The evening was perfectly quiet. They ate a simple meal and cleaned up together while Vaar’ika napped in the armchair. Later, they found themselves in bed together for the first time. Crosshair lifted his arm and pulled Rayla to his side. She laid an arm around his waist while Vaar’ika curled up in the crook of his neck. He felt his heartbeat syncing with Rayla’s. She smiled and kissed his cheek before she closed her eyes. They soaked in each other’s warmth and fell asleep.

#crosshair #tbb #the bad batch #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #crosshair x oc #star wars oc #tbb oc #tooka #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x oc #tomophobia

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staycalmandhugaclone · 4 months

Text

Identity Pt 6 (Extra Scene)

Part (6) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

There are two people in particular to blame for this chapter. You know who are are, and I love you for it.

Warnings: Big emotions in this - rage, guilt, blame, and the like. There do be a bit of fighting, but it's not gory. Brief description of water torture. Profanity

WC: 2,032

No one moved, breath nearly trapped in their chests as they watched the pair steadily make their way out of the hanger. Crosshair noted the stiffness in her movements, the slight hitch in her step, and his teeth ground at the certainty that her shoulder was only a small part of what she’d suffered.

“What the kriff did you do?!” He snarled at the group of regs still staring toward the now empty hallway. He’d half-expected Hunter or Echo to growl some half-hearted warning for him to back down, but they seemed just as eager for answers as he was, and the unspoken permission that granted him, the justification in loosing his rage on the remaining members of the 104th left him near shaking, face twisted with the full display of his fury.

“We followed our orders; just like she did… Things just… got complicated.” The one with the double oval on his forehead replied, and the dejection in his voice only worsened Crosshair’s anger.

“The hell does that mean?” His voice ground between gritted teeth, body innately taking a half-step forward.

“It means there were unforeseen circumstances that caused problems, and that you lot aren’t cleared to know anything more.” The clone bearing a wolf-head emblem said, not shying from the very real threat in the sniper’s posture as he tread forward to place himself pointedly between his men and the enraged squad before him.

“I don’t give a Sith’s tit about your mission. The kriff happened to her, and why didn’t any of you stop it?!” He spat, shoulders pulling back as he towered over the Sergent.

“No time.” Another reg replied gruffly from behind the telltale helm of a pilot. “When everythin’ went down, we were all too far away to do anything, an’ they had her whisked off to the other side of planet before we could reach her.”

“She was alone?!” Echo nearly shouted from behind him. Crosshair didn’t question Hunter’s silence thus far, assured that his brother was listening, calculating; that he could smell the cocktail of adrenaline filling each of them and was comparing their heart rates, their body language, the tension in their every taut muscle to figure out just how far they could be pushed before snapping, how much information they might glean from tongues loosened by shame and guilt.

“There wasn’t supposed to be any combat where she was.” The last one sighed, his head dropping toward his chest.

“Can’t help but notice not one of you has a damn scratch, so how’d she end up like that in a non-combat zone with you lot still looking like damn shinies?!” Cross shot back, disdain dripping from every word.

“That’s enough!” The pilot barked, moving stiffly forward to stand beside his brother. “Think you’re something special? That you’re all high and mighty just ‘cause you’ve got some damn crush? Well, how ‘bout we compare how many times she’s been hurt working with you than with us?!”

He nearly ignored the subtle shift of Hunter’s hand signaling him to back off, but caught himself mere heartbeats before throwing himself forward, fists clenched hard enough to shake.

“If you’re referring to combat ops, given the general nature of your missions, which tend toward community outreach and long-distance support, in addition to the fact that her most grievous injuries were caused directly by your commander’s intentional actions, statistically speaking, that comparison wouldn’t do much to support your argument.” The subtle note of annoyance in Tech’s retort was just enough to draw a huff of something too dark to be likened to laughter from Crosshair.

“Still haven’t given a reason why she was alone.” Wrecker’s voice was quiet, and that alone left Crosshair leaning slightly to the side lest he find himself between them should the massive clone decide he was done listening. “She’s a medic – can’t really do that if she’s not with you.”

“She wasn’t there as a medic.” The first reg explained wearily.

“Then why was she there? Why pull her from our unit at all?” Hunter asked, carefully masking his own anger with a feigned gentleness.

“Comet.” The Sergent called, helm shifting to stare pointedly at his brother. The silence that followed that warning only sought to fuel Crosshair’s ire while worsening the 104th’s collective remorse.

“We needed someone who could blend in with the Separatists.”

“Boost!”

The man who’d spoken drew a sharp breath at the reprimand in his brother’s tone, head snapping up to stare him down as he wrenched his helmet free.

“No! Dammit, Sinker, they should know what happened! You think needing to keep it a secret is going to do her any good?! Hell, that one’s clearly read plenty of our old mission briefs already!” Boost roared, hand snapping toward Tech. “Why the hell wouldn’t he read this one? The only difference between us telling them now and him reading about it later is how much time they’ll have to get their shebs ready to help her when she’s back.”

Despite his lingering urge to lash out, Crosshair found himself both quieted and unnerved anew at the man’s words, torn between wanting to berate them for their carelessness and appreciating Boost’s argument.

“I know…” Sinker replied, voice nearly breaking beneath the weight of remorse threatening to overwhelm him, “but that’s not our call to make.” Comet and the other one, the pilot, had both turned their attention from Crosshair and their brothers, as though waiting to see who’d cede first that they might be granted permission to speak freely.

“Then you go right ahead and report me, Sergent.” Boost spat.

“Our contact chose the location.” Sinker’s shoulders fell at Comet’s quiet whisper, but he offered no further dispute. “It was a gathering for high-ranking Separatists. The plan was her to get in, get a datachip, and monitor security while we broke into the gala’s database to get more info… get a little something extra for the effort. Apparently, our contact had ulterior motives, too. He planted a bomb. She got caught in the blast, and then she was blamed for it.”

Air hissed through Crosshair’s teeth; dread twisted through his chest at the knowledge of what a Separatist interrogation entailed.

“We got to her as quick as we could.” The pilot continued, arms crossing over his chest at the guilt clearly sown through his own words. “Beat up some guards, tracked all the outbound ships… finally had to hunt down the damn contact himself to figure out where they took her.” He didn’t need to look back to know his brothers stood as stiff as he did, waiting for that final blow of what exactly had happened.

“They had her for about eight hours.” Resigned, Sinker finally turned back to face him, movements weary as he also reached up to remove his helmet, and Cross couldn’t help but be slightly surprised to find that the man shared his silver hair color, a fact that instantly annoyed him further, but he held his tongue as he waited for the reg to continue. “We know she was unconscious most of that time, but when she woke up…”

“Enough with all the kriffin’ stalling. Just tell us wha’ happened.” Wrecker growled impatiently.

“She was drowned.” Comet stated bluntly, and Crosshair’s blood went cold. “They drowned her, brought her back, and waterboarded her trying to find out who was behind the explosion.”

He could feel his heart racing, felt his breath quicken, every thought screaming at him to fight, to forgo all fear of reprimand or consequence for the relief of even a moment’s outburst, because that was something he knew. He knew how to deal with the pain of raw knuckles and split lips. He knew the taste of disappointment his brothers would harbor in the aftermath of his rashness. He knew the sting of defeat and the empty pride of victory, and, in that moment, held no preference for either. He merely needed the distraction; that familiarity, because the ache in his chest, the way it threatened to cripple him and rend him into a frenzy too overcome with grief and guilt to think straight was something he didn’t know how to deal with, and that terrified him.

“I assume she’s been given appropriate treatment to prevent lung infections?” The emptiness in Tech’s voice robbed Crosshair of that lingering rage to which he’d been clinging, leaving him cold and void of the will to drag himself back to the forefront of a confrontation that no longer promised anything of the respite he’d longed for.

“Yeah.” Boost answered quietly. “She also has a burn on her calf… wrists and ankles got torn up from fighting the restraints… pretty sure that’s how she dislocated her shoulder, too. We got it all cleaned and bandaged, but… just keep an eye on it.” There. That last comment was all it took to rekindle his anger, and he grasped it like the fleeting lifeline it was.

“Think it’s pretty clear we don’t need your advice on how to keep her safe.” He drawled, head tilting just enough to portray the depth of his contempt.

“That’s it.” The pilot growled, throwing himself forward without further thought or warning. In that split second before they collided, Crosshair felt the very edge of his lips twitch up into a broken smile born of relief and ruined by a guilt he’d deal with later.

In an instant, everyone was shouting, and he thrived in that moment of chaos as the man’s fist crashed into his jaw. Already, several hands were grabbing for him, straining to wrench him back, but not before he landed his own strike, knee plowing into his stomach with enough force to wrench the air from his lungs despite the plates of heavy armor. Crosshair just managed a final punch to his assailant’s head before Wrecker forced himself between them, iron grip locked around the reg’s shoulder in a threat even the haughty pilot couldn’t feign ignorance to.

In the brief fray, he’d failed to notice the split second of distraction tear Hunter’s attention away from them, but he instantly froze as his brother hauled him near enough to whisper harshly into his ear.

“Cody commed me. It’s Doc.” Already, Hunter was pulling away from him, torn between ending the fight and answering the summons. “Don’t make things worse.” He added with a snarl forced into barely audible growl. Expression faltering into horrified dread, Cross merely nodded. Hunter didn’t hesitate before turning and dashing from the hanger, and then all Crosshair could hear was the heaviness of his own breathing, the way his heart pounded in chest beneath that rush of emotions resurging mercilessly in the wake of his vain attempt to escape them.

He glanced back to find his brothers studying him carefully, confusion clear in their eyes as they waited for some explanation, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak, not when the other squad stood watching him with that same attentiveness. Without a word, he merely nodded toward the hallway leading to their temporary bunkroom, sparing not so much as a glare back to the men he still sought to blame for all of this; for calling her away, for letting her get hurt, for reminding him just how easily he might lose her because of this Force-forsaken war.

He didn’t listen to the hushed voices of the 104th as he began walking away; barely let himself note the sets of footsteps voicing his own squad belatedly falling in line behind him. He couldn’t think beyond the fruitless need to know why Cody had called Hunter, what had happened in the debrief; mind demanding he find some means to force his way into that kriffing office in his brother’s stead, and his rage grew at the knowledge that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do but wait. All his training as a sniper, years of drilling the importance of patience into him, of forming that patience into a weapon honed to perfection; it was all useless against this, and he couldn’t keep himself from slamming his fist into the wall in a final fit of frustration as they neared the still foreign barracks.

Next Chapter

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