SOMEONE GIMME IDEAS ON HOW TO ROAST CROSSHAIR

Sharpshooter - Only the Strongest will Survive

Chapter 10

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Violence, death, blood, profanity, injuries

The howl of an animal wakes me from my light sleep. They're out again. It takes me a few moments to gain my bearings, but my hand stuffs the middle parting of the golden hairpin into my belt automatically. The metal has gone dull from blood and acid rain. 

I take a drink from one of the water packets and a bite out of my half-eaten ration bar. My stomach growls in protest, wanting more. I'm eating even less that I usually did back in North America, and for a short time, in the city. We usually had some dead fish or something from scavenging to eat besides those ration bars. 

I look out from the mouth of the cave, my cybernetic eye scanning the area. There's no clouds today. That's new. The past few days have been plagued with storms. Acid rain had been spilling into my cave non-stop. Yesterday, I woke up in knee-deep water and had to clear it out with my bare hands.

Occasionally, I hear the faint sound of an explosion going off. Poor kids. Dying to a mine. So much more dishonarable than dying in real combat. 

I haven't seen any animals since I found one of its bodies right outside my cave. Right before you killed an innocent, injured boy. I haven't encountered anyone either. I've spent days alone in my cave, plotting out my next move.

The sniper is too heavy for me to use like a pistol. The only thing it's good for in my hands is smashing people's faces in. "So uncivilized," Mayday would say. I chuckle to myself at the thought. I hope he's still alive. Focus.

I'm running low on water packets too. Dehydration's a bitch, so if I don't get more water, I'll probably die. Can't have that. I found the sniper, ration bars and water packets buried in the ground. I don't know how I'll find more, considering the only way I found them was seeing the butt of the sniper stick out from the ground. 

If I encounter a person without a gun, I'll just tackle them and stab them in the neck with my hairpin. As usual. If the person has a gun, I'm fucked. Usually I'd say it's not worth the risk, but I'd rather go out fighting than of dehydration. 

After pacing the perimeter of my cave, I head back inside, taking the golden hairpin out from my belt. Running my finger across its dull surface, I notice that some of the outer layer of gold has peeled off, revealing a shiny silver underneath.

So this isn't real gold, huh. What a scam.

It doesn't seem like there are any animals near my cave. For now. They're only out hunting for what I assume are a few hours every day. When the howls stop, they're gone. That's my chance to get more supplies.

I can't see the green lights tonight. It's probably too cloudy. That also means there might be a storm coming. I won't have much time if I have to wait out the animals.

Soon, the silence returns, no longer punctuated by the sounds of feral animals. I wonder how many victims they claimed tonight. The more, the better. "Until a hundred million remain," the man in the suit said. The faster they die, the faster this nightmare ends.

Now's my time to find more supplies. I head out of my cave, hairpin clutched tightly in my hand. If I'm out looking for supplies and in the open, I can't bring my sniper. It's too heavy and bulky to drag along, so I leave the barrel sticking out of the mouth of the cave as a marker. 

The sky is brighter today. The almost blinding lights of the city probably contribute to that. The clouds almost seem like they're lit up. Visibility is good. There's no better time to go.

Walking down the slope of the base of the mountain where my cave is, I look around, trying to find any trace of water packets or ration bars in the ground. I tread carefully, making sure to avoid the little bumps in the gravel that are probably mines. 

I also make sure to avoid the bodies scattered across the ground. Seeing them from my cave was no big deal, but up close...oops. Accidentally stepped on the body of a toddler. The crack of its bones shattering under my weight echoes through the night. 

Shit shit shit everyone's gonna know I'm out here. I have to make this quick.

The scent of rotting flesh, blood and gunpowder fills my senses, and I resist the urge to throw up as I continue my careful dance across the gravel plane. Some areas in the ground have been dug up, leaving holes in the gravel. There were probably supplies or weapons there that people dug up. 

How am I supposed to find anything?

All I can do is keep walking and cling onto the hope that there are still some supplies that no one has dug up yet. Occasionally, I hear the sound of gravel crunching. I immediately switch my cybernetic eye settings to show heat signatures, but whoever's there is fast. 

It feels like my heart is in my throat. Someone's there. They might be following me. They probably want to kill me. But why follow in the darkness? Unless they want to strike at just the right moment...My hand tightens around the hairpin. I can't afford to let my guard down. My steps are barely audible without the heavy ass sniper on my back. 

Are there even any supplies left?

I keep walking on, clinging to the sliver of hope that there will somehow be rations left. Even with my guard up, my mind still drifts to Mayday. I don't even know if he's alive. 

Don't be silly. Of course he's alive.

But what if he isn't? What if he's one of these bodies on the ground? What if he's bleeding out somewhere from the wound on his head and I can't help him? What if-

Shut up. Focus.

I walk on in the same direction for what seems like eternity. Every step I take, I brace myself for an explosion beneath my feet and the excruciating pain that will probably come along with it. The sound of footsteps fades in and out, but they never get close enough for me to draw my hairpin.

Suddenly, a mine goes off right behind me, throwing me face-first to the ground. My heart leaps into my throat as I cover my head. My ears feel like they're burning. A high pitched ringing fills my senses, making my head hurt.

I look down and notice a bump in the gravel right under my chest. My eyes widen as my body tenses up. A mine. I curl up into a ball, bracing myself for the impact of the explosion.

I'm going to die. I'm sorry daddy, mummy, ah kong, ah ma...Mayday...

But nothing happens. After a few moments, I uncurl from my little ball and look around, confused. I should be dead. I should be like the others, just body parts scattered on the ground. I stepped on a mine, didn't I? Unless...

I kneel onto the ground and start digging around the bump in the gravel. My knees are scraped from the fall, the tiny rocks on the ground digging into the raw flesh, but I can't be bothered to care about that right now. I keep digging, my fingertips getting red and raw, until my hand finds what feels like fabric. I pull it out, before opening it and looking inside. 

There's what looks like 4 ration bars, a few big packs of water, and a bottle of something I can't quite recognise. I'll see what it is when I get back to my cave, when I'm not out in the open. I grab the bag, slinging it over my shoulder, before turning around and walking in what I hope is the direction of my cave. 

That mine that went off next to me...there was someone there. I can see what remains of their severed body, fresh blood spilling out and staining the gravel. I try to ignore the way it seeps into my boots, making them squelch with every step I take. 

That's not good. Enemies will be able to hear me. 

But I can't run either. Too much noise. All I can do is keep walking and pray that no one comes for me.  I can feel my heart pounding in my throat. My hand instinctively reaches for the hairpin on my belt. The cool metal against my fingers feels strangely comforting.

I can still see my footprints in the gravel from my journey. I take care to follow them as accurately as possible, not wanting to set off any mines right after I got some supplies. 

The way back is much faster than the walk to get the bag. I can just about make out the mouth of my cave from here, without having my cybernetic eye zoom in. Maybe I will make it back. 

Then I hear footsteps behind me. I whip around, fists raised to protect my face, hairpin clutched tightly in one. A sharp pain shoots through my the back of my palm and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying out in pain. Warm liquid trickles down my forearm. Blood.

A large mass suddenly pounces onto me, pinning me to the ground with its weight. I put my hands out, trying to push it off, but to no avail. The knife in my attacker's hand hovers dangerously close to my neck, only held off by my hand grabbing its wrist.

I can barely breathe. The weight is suffocating, and the hand trying to drive the knife into my neck is persistent. My arm burns from the effort of holding it off. My other hand, sandwiched between our bodies, slips out and drives the hairpin into my attacker's neck.

Or at least, that's what I try to do. The hairpin won't go in. It isn't sharp enough anymore. Panic shoots through me as my arm feels like it's about to give way.

No. No! I can't die here. I can't! 

My attacker now grabs my hand that's holding the hairpin, twisting and forcing it to drop my weapon. The hairpin falls to the gravel with a "crunch". No no no no NO NO. I squirm around under the weight of the enemy, panic flooding my senses. I can't breathe.

But I'm not going down without a fight. I twist the wrist of the enemy, forcing the hand to drop the knife. I grab it by the blade, quickly shifting my grip down to the handle, before driving it into their neck. 

A scream of pain barely escapes the person before I clamp their mouth shut with my hand, pulling the knife out and driving it back into their neck for good measure. Warm, crimson liquid soaks my hands, some of it spurting out of the dead body. I take the knife with me but leave the hairpin, quickly fleeing before any more enemies come for me. 

Panicked thoughts fill the silence of the night. The hairpin wasn't sharp enough. The acid rain dulled it too much. I'll have to use the knife now. But what if that dulls too? I can't keep relying on melee or I'll die. Getting up close and personal is too much of a risk anyways, you saw what just happened. 

As the adrenaline from the fight fades, my legs start to feel heavier and heavier. Each step takes more effort than the last. There's a dull ache on my right palm, where I grabbed the blade of the knife. I'll deal with that later. All I have to do is just get back to my cave. To safety.

The way back is calm. No more fights, not even the howls of animals yet. I reach my cave and stumble to my favourite corner, the one with the thickest layer of gravel and a smooth rock for a pillow. 

Lowering myself down onto the bed of gravel,I set my bag down, opening it up and laying out my supplies, my hands staining the fabric with blood. 

Now that I can afford to read what's on the unfamiliar bottle, I can just make out the words "healing paste" on it. Perfect for the wounds on my hands, which are still slowly dripping thick, red liquid. 

I open the bottle, scooping out some of the paste onto my fingers and applying it to the gashes. I let out a soft sigh of relief, the cooling paste soothing the aches. 

Can't use too much of this. Have to save it for future wounds.

I turn my head to look at the sniper that had been waiting patiently for my return all this time. I almost feel bad for leaving it behind.

Heh. Look at you. Feeling something for a fucking gun.

Of course I feel bad for leaving it behind. The fight would've been much easier with it. Maybe there wouldn't have been a fight at all if I had just shot the enemy from a distance. Maybe the sniper is worth more than just a sledgehammer to smash people's faces in.

I lay my head on the hard, smooth rock that I now call my pillow, trying to get comfortable. I'll figure things out in the morning. For now, I need to rest.

TBB SEASON 3 IS OUT WOOOOO

(im too lazy to type it out again)

Into The Dark is an original story that I came up with and is currently ongoing

its a some dystopian stuff that I abandoned lol

THEY DIDNT

THEY CANT JUST

THEY CANT JUST CASUALLY BLOW UP THE MARAUDER

U CANT JUST DO THAT

AND CROSSHAIR CONCERNED DAD AND SAYING OMEGA’S NAME

AND OMEGA TRUSTING CROSSHAIR TO TRACK THE SHIP BUT HE COULDNT 😭😭😭

AND THE ASSASSIN SAYING “DOMICILE” CONFIRMS ITS TECH

TODAYS EPISODES HAVE DESTROYED MY SANITY

happy bad batch eve-

WAIT NOOOOOOO

im still not over tbb :(

Sharpshooter

Chapter 1

Warnings: None (for now)

My grandparents say that I was born in an unfortunate time. They always tell me about the old world, where we were allowed to go outside and breathe cool, fresh air, without the inconvenience of having to wear a cooling suit just to prevent ourselves from roasting in the heat. I don't believe them. For me, these are all just stories. Stories of a world long gone. 

"8 billion people used to live on Earth, you believe that?" my grandparents always ask, laughing slightly as if they don't believe it themselves. I definitely don't believe that. There's only 700 million people left on this doomed planet.

Some of my friends-wait, I only have one, tells me about how the richer people get transported to Mars while us poorer, starving ones, stay on Earth and wait for our chance to die.

Usually, when my grandparents launch into a full-on rant about the world before, I roll my eyes and slip on sunglasses just to hide the fact that I'll be sleeping for the next hour or so. These stories are meaningless to me. There's no point in clinging on to the past, when I have a family to take care of.

We used to live in Singapore. Sea levels were rising so much that the few transports that remained on Earth brought us to the interior regions of North America, at least the ones that haven't gone underwater yet. That's where I met my good friend, and eventually, scavenging partner, Mayday. He's about a head taller than me, and I'm already considered tall for a girl my age. He's got short black hair. Just like mine. And just like the other 300 million or so kids. Mayday told me that his parents named him that because they're trying to call out to the authorities for help, to bring them to Mars. It hasn't worked for the past 13 years of his life, and I don't think it'll work anytime soon.

Me and Mayday's families are quite close as well. We usually share whatever little food Mayday and I scavenged that day with each other, to ensure that we don't starve to death. 

On one of our scavenging trips, I find a knife and a blaster pistol. The knife's a bit blunt, but it's sharp enough to stab through dead fish or whatever I find in the ruins of the houses that are flooded to my waist. 

Everyone knows the stories of what happens to houses that get flooded. They get abandoned, and whatever wildlife that has managed to adapt to the temperatures tears them up, sometimes leaving nothing behind. 

After spending about a few months in North America, even with the cooling suits on, the air temperature has become too high. Mayday and I can only spend an hour, maximum, outside scavenging before we start to get burns and it gets hard to breathe.

The air conditioning in the "houses" that the authorities give us barely works. I can't even call those things that we live in houses. They're more of a group of tents sewed together and protected by a ray shield, which is the reason why we call the place we live in the Dome. It provides air conditioning, at least, for a few hours a day. The rest of the time, we rely on that limited cooling cream that Mayday and I scavenge to prevent ourselves from roasting to death.

We've been living like this for a few months now. None of us are getting used to it. We have one small screen in the only small area where tents aren't clumped together to watch the news. Usually, the one that stands in front of the small screen shouts the news out to everyone else crowding around.

Today, I squeeze my way through the crowd, it's easy because of my small size, and I make my way towards the screen, getting a good view. There, I see face of the man that always appears on the news when something important is going on, but I never remember his name because I have more important things to focus on.

The image of a globe projects onto the screen, and the man on the television turns the hologram of the globe until it shows a brown landmass.

"Antarctica," the man says. "We will be moving all inhabitants on Earth here. The temperatures here are lower than the ones around the world, so..."

I slip away from the screen and back into the crowd. I hear the people near the screen shouting what the man on the screen just said, and people are muttering excitedly, some cheering. I hate it when this happens. So much noise. I run away, pushing past people, back to my house where I tell them the news.

"The authorities say they're moving us to Antarctica," I say the moment I run into the tent, my breathing slightly heavy from the running. Mayday's in the tent as well, rubbing the ankle that he sprained on yesterday's scavenging trip. My family and Mayday all look up at me, before my family starts to cheer and Mayday remains silent.

I sit down next to him. "How's your ankle?"

"Could be better," he replies, and I definitely know something's wrong. He'd usually crack a joke or something.

"Nervous about going to Antarctica?"

Mayday nods, and I pat him on the shoulder. "That means new territory to scavenge stuff, which means there's definitely some fresh loot there."

Mayday looks up at me. "Antarctica's a barren desert. There's nothing there to scavenge."

"We'll find something," I try to sound confident, but after the stories I've heard of Antarctica, there's only a sliver of hope that Mayday and I could scavenge anything there. Antarctica's also full of wild animals. The ones that managed to get to Antarctica, at least. They're the real danger out there.

The next few days, transports descend from the sky and bring people to Antarctica in a matter of minutes. I'm guessing the transports are from Mars. The advanced technology there lets them travel fast. Really fast.

My family and Mayday's board the last transports after packing everything up. There's not much to pack, besides some of the old ration bars I found a few days ago and those gummies that hydrate us. Authorities give us about three of those per person every month, so we have to ration them. Can't forget about the cooling cream either.

When we enter the transport, we're greeted with a blast of cold air. Is this what Antarctica feels like? I'm shivering slightly from the cold, and it looks like everyone else is too. We're not used to this kind of temperature.

It's really cramped in here. I count about a hundred families with us. I hear murmurings going on in the crowd, and I'm pushed right next to Mayday.

We stand there in awkward silence, and I start sweating, somehow. It's not because of the temperature. Large crowds just make me nervous, and Mayday knows that. He puts a hand on my shoulder reassuringly, and I give him a small nod.

Thankfully, we aren't in the transport for long. In a matter of minutes, the doors open and everyone rushes out. My family and Mayday's are the last to walk out, with a lot of hesitation. 

The air is fresh. Cooling. Devoid of that burning smell of the ground. I scan the surroundings, and so does Mayday. Rugged terrain, with gorges that go so deep that if anyone fell in from above they would definitely die. The sky is navy blue. Clear. Cloudless. Not like the smoke-filled skies of North America.

We stand on a platform that descends into a deep gorge, where I see buildings. Not tents clustered together, actual buildings. They're inside a ray shield, just like the Dome, and I can only guess that it's not to protect us from the heat, but from the wildlife.

After we enter through a hole in the ray shield, it closes up behind us and we are, once again, in a crowd of people. There's a big screen, which everyone is looking at, and it's projecting the image of another man, who's dressed in what my grandparents would call a suit, even though I could not possibly imagine why someone would want to wear such a suffocating piece of clothing.

"You are safe here now, in Antarctica," the man says, and I start hearing people talking again. The man waits until everyone is silent before continuing. "No one goes in or out of the ray shield unless given specific permission to do so."

Mayday and I glance at each other with a knowing look.

"Enjoy your stay here, and good luck."

Good luck? What does he mean by good luck? 

As the crowd disperses and authorities lead others to their respective buildings, I turn to Mayday, and he turns to me.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

i genuinely cried at the ending and i dont know why

just seeing hunter aka my father figure growing old and omega leaving just

i dont wanna say goodbye

tbb got me through my parents divorce and through my suicidal thoughts

they were better friends to me than any of my real ones

they helped me transition to secondary school

they helped me find new friends

they inspired me to get my life back together

they inspired me to write stories and ive gotten into a writing program in sch because of it

they were the dads i never had

and i grew up with omega

to see the series end, to not see them again in new official content, its just breaking me

all i want is friends like them and to have a family like omega

thats all i want

Our Own Choices

Chapter 7

It's been a few weeks now, and I can almost fully function again. I've just managed to hold a pistol steady without my arm shaking, and my knife skills are slightly worse than before but I can probably survive out in the field. Rex still hasn't let me go out on missions yet, he says I have to fully recover first, even though I already have.

When Rex and the 501st come back from the battle of Ringo Vinda, but when I look around for Fives he's not there. Rex says he's on Kamino watching over this clone trooper called Tup whose inhibitor chip malfunctioned during the battle. 

I'm also biologically 18 years old now, so Rex allows me to go to the clone bar now, maybe I'll hangout with Fives there when he gets back. I usually go to there in the nights, I occasionally see Kix and Jesse there.

It's been a few days, and Fives still hasn't come back from Kamino. Kix just told me that people said that Fives tried to kill the Chancellor, and he gives me coordinates on where to find Fives. He says Rex and General Skywalker will be there as well. I probably won't be able to keep out of sight anyways, with a Jedi there and everything.

I see Rex and General Skywalker walk through the place, it's kinda dark so General Skywalker ignites his lightsaber and it casts a blue glow around the area, I head towards them, almost completely silent.

I think Rex hears my footsteps cause the moment I walk up behind him, he whips around and points his pistols at me. General Skywalker does the same, lightsaber in hand and probably ready to slice me in half.

"Oh, great," Rex groans. 

"Heyyyy captain, General, Kix gave me the coordinates to come here as well," I say awkwardly. 

"I thought I told you not to go out on missions until you fully recovered?!" Rex says, lowering his pistols. He's definitely gonna give me a lecture later. Rex and General Skywalker turn around again and scan the area for Fives, I stand behind them doing the same.

"Fives? Fives, we're here," General Skywalker calls out. "Cmon out, we just wanna talk to you."

"Fives?" I take off my helmet so that he can recognize my voice. "Where tf u bro?"

"General Skywalker." I hear Fives' voice, but I can't pinpoint where exactly he is. "Thank you...thank you for trusting me." He doesn't sound good. "Have you come without troops?"

"We have," General Skywalker says, he and Rex and both alert, and I do the same, my pistol in one hand and my knife in the other. (It's a new knife that Rex got me, it has the same pattern as my sword, much to my delight)

"Put down your weapons then!" Fives sounds slightly panicked. 

"I don't think so, Fives," General Skywalker says.

"Please sir! Please, I'm unarmed."

General Skywalker nods at me and Rex and I drop my pistol and knife on the floor. General Skywalker retracts his lightsaber as well.

Rex puts his pistols down on a nearby crate and notifies Fives. 

"What are we here for, Fives?" General Skywalker sounds cautious.

"I need your help."

"I know you do. We know you're not well. It's been rough for you, these past couple of days."

"I'm not crazy!" Fives sounds kinda desperate. "Please...please just-just hear...what I have to say." He's breathing heavily, definitely been drugged or injured.

"I don't think someone like you would ever manage to go insane, considering you play sniper in Call of Duty and on mobile sometimes," I try lightening the atmosphere a bit, the dim light in the area is making me feel uneasy.

"We're here to help you Fives, just come with us," General Skywalker says, and we walk in the general direction that we think Fives is at. "Just let us take you back to the temple."

Suddenly, a ray shield comes down from above and surrounds all 3 of us, preventing us from being able to get anywhere. General Skywalker bangs a fist against the ray shield before Fives comes out from behind one of the crates. 

"I just need you to listen to me...please!"

"I'm not really sure we have any other choice," General Skywalker responds, crossing his arms.

"We're listening to you, Fives," I assure him, I don't need him getting anymore mentally unstable than he is right now.

"I was framed! Because I know the truth, the truth about a plot. A master deception."

"By who?" Rex steps forwards a bit.

"Well there's a sinister plot, and it works against the Jedi! I have proof of it! I can prove that everything I know is true beyond a shadow of a doubt!" Fives holds his head in his hands at one point, he's definitely been drugged, I don't know by who, but it feels like he's telling the truth, and someone's trying to get him not to.

"Show me the evidence," General Skywalker says.

Fives holds the left side of his head with his hand. "The...evidence...is..in here," he points towards the left side of his head. "I-it's in here. It's in all of us, every clone!"

"What is it?" Rex asks.

"It's in all of us?!" I ask.

"Organic chips built into our genetic code..." Fives puts a hand to his head again. "To make us do whatever someone wants, even kill the Jedi." Fives takes a step forward, pointing at the left side of his head again. "It's all in here."

General Skywalker glances sideways at Rex, and Rex puts a hand to the back of his neck, I speak up. "Fives-"

"Let's just get you some help first, then we can review everything. It'll be okay, Fives, we'll sort this out," General Skywalker cuts me off. It's definitely not gonna help the situation. 

"YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME!" Fives shouts, and I can hear it in his voice, he's desperate for someone to believe him.

"Fives, we are listening to you, we only want to help," Rex tries to calm Fives down. 

"How do I know you're not tricking me? How do I know...that it won't be a trap? The chancellor was trying to kill me, I-I promise you that!"

"Fives, why would I be here if it was a trap, I may be dumb sometimes in battle royale but I'm not that dumb," I say, trying to reassure him, I'm not really doing a good job.

"The chancellor?" General Skywalker asks.

"He's in on it!" Fives says, putting a hand to his head again. "I don't know to what extent, but I know he orchestrated much of this. He told me in the medical bay!"

"He told you?" General Skywalker sounds slightly more aggressive now. "When you tried to assassinate him? You have gone too far, Fives. The chancellor is incapable of what you claim."

"General, you're not really helping here," I tell him. 

The popular belief isn't always the correct one.

"He is!" Fives protests. "I swear to you, General, you have no idea-"

Suddenly, Coruscant Guard troopers appear from behind the crates, pointing their blasters at Fives. "Stand down soldier. STAND DOWN! GET ON YOUR KNEES!"

"No, no, STAY BACK!" Fives looks at Rex's pistols from the side.

"Don't do it, don't do it soldier!"

"FIVES DON'T DO IT OR I'LL STEAL UR KILLS IN FUCKING BATTLE ROYALE!" I shout, I know he hates it when I steal his kills, and if he doesn't stand down now he's gonna get shot.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Fives takes one of Rex's pistols and points it at the Coruscant Guards, and Commander Fox shoots him in the chest.

"FIVES!" I shout, banging on the ray shield, slamming my body against it desperately as Fives drops the pistol, breathing heavily, and drops to the ground. It's like finding out Echo's dead all over again. That sickening feeling in my stomach as I see his body, the way my insides tense up, I never wanted to experience that again, but here I am now. 

"Fives!" Rex shouts, and General Skywalker orders the Coruscant Guards to turn the ray shield off. Rex starts banging against the ray shield with me, he's calling out Fives' name again.

One of the Coruscant Guard troopers shoots the ray shield generator and Rex and I run to Fives' side.

"Fives...brother..." Rex kneels down next to him, and I kneel beside him. "GET A MEDIC," Rex and I shout at the same time, but no one moves, they know it's too late, and I know as well, I just don't accept it yet.

Fives' breathing is erratic, he's not gonna make it-no he is gonna make it, he is gonna make it...

"Kid...? Rex...?" Fives' voice is half-weak. "Fives?" Rex asks. "This...it's...bigger than any of us...anything...I could've imagined..."

"Save your strength Fives, we'll get you to the medbay," I say, and Rex looks at me with that look in his eyes, I know Fives is not gonna make it, but there's still a slim chance right? I'll take any chance I can get.

"I never meant...to..." Rex holds Fives close to his ear so that he can hear him. "I only wanted to do my duty..."

Fives' breathing is heavy. 

"Fives? Stay with me Fives. Fives?" Rex sounds desperate. 

"FIVES IF YOU DIE...I'M GONNA KILL YOU," I hold back my tears, can't show weakness in front of the other troopers. 

"The mission...the nightmares...they're...finally...over." And then his body goes limp as he closes his eyes, and Rex shakes him by the shoulders. "Fives? No, Fives, cmon Fives, stay with me, stay with me, Fives, Fives, don't go..."

I shake Fives by the shoulders. "Fives? W-wake up! Please, stay with me, cmon man, don't give up on me like this, we still gotta keep our top 5000 in legendary rank until end of season 4 of COD, remember?" I wipe my eyes with the corner of my sleeve. "Fives?"

Rex sighs and puts Fives' body down on the ground, his head lowered. General Skywalker puts a hand on his shoulder, and Rex looks at me, putting a hand on my shoulder, pulling me close to him. 

I stare down at Fives' body blankly, trying hard not to cry. I look up at Commander Fox, the bitch that shot Fives, and then I look at my knife on the floor not too far away, I clench my fist, all thoughts cleared from my mind except one.

Kill him.

I stand up from the floor, moving over to pick up my pistol and knife. I clip the pistol to my belt.

Kill him.

I run over to Fox, my knife in hand, shouting, "FUCK YOU," letting all that grief for Echo, Hevy, and now Fives, out on him, trying to stab my knife through the crevices in his armor, aiming for the neck, getting a good hit on the face as Fox tries to throw me off of him. The other troopers aim their blasters at me as Rex runs over and pulls me back.

"Kid...kid! Stop!" I can hear the desperation in his voice, I struggle against his grip, knife still in hand, trying to reach Fox.

"LET...ME...AT...HIM..." my voice comes out lower than expected, I'm seething with rage right now, my mind still telling me to kill Fox and avenge Fives-

One of the troopers fires a stun bolt at me and my entire body goes numb and everything goes black.

When I wake up, I'm in a Republic prison cell, and Rex walks in, his expression grim, he doesn't look happy. I crack my neck a bit, slightly sore from the stun bolt.

Rex grabs me by the shoulders. "What were you thinking?!"

"I WAS THINKING TO KILL HIM, WHY DID YOU STOP ME?! I WANTED TO AVENGE OUR BROTHER, YOU-" I stop myself before I swear at him.

Rex sighs. "Look kid, you can't just attack a trooper like that and expect nothing to happen. I managed to get them to let you off the hook this time, but you're grounded."

"WHAT?! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" 

"Yes I can. No more going on missions until I say so, and the other troopers will be keeping an eye on you." His stare is blank, yet stern, and I know the blank part is because he's trying to get over what happened to Fives.

"Fives..." I hold my head in my hands as everything comes rushing back. My stomach tightens again, it's like a choking feeling, the grief, it feels like I can't breathe, but I don't allow myself to cry freely, just looking down at the floor and closing my eyes tightly.

"Let's go." Rex grabs my arm and drags me out of the cell, back to the barracks and my room, and he doesn't say anything as he closes the door behind him.

I move to a corner of my room and curl up into a ball, finally letting everything out, crying loudly, burying my face in my knees, I can't stop until there's no more tears left to cry, and then all that comes out from me in the next few hours is just dry sobs, and I punch the wall a few times, my knuckles bleeding, but I don't care.

Fives...

After hours and hours of crying, I take out my datapad and go into Call of Duty. I get to my loadouts for battle royale and multiplayer, and I change the weapons in my loadout to the ones I perfectly memorized just to beat him every time in 1v1.

I change all my loadouts to the ones Fives uses.

I HAVE BEEN SUMMONED BOYS

TBB fandom is dying

TBB fans rise up we can't let this fandom die its the last best thing that came in Star Wars