*gets #58 of 58.1k in OCs and #2 of 826 in original species*
*is fueled and finishes up Ch32*
*yeets at yall*
Now to peace off into the mist again lol.

For real tho, thank yall SO SO much for the rankings! Means the world. I NEVER could have imagined such a ranking this time last year when I was first posting the OtaGS (which is released as a PDF on tumblr now!). Seriously, I keep writing because of yall! (even if Ive been slacking with comment replies)

This chapter... THIS chapter is one of my FAVORITES. By far. Been working on this in bits and pieces since... November? Maybe even October. The title name came from the Shawn Mendes "Stitches" song because I was in my crosshair feels lol
Now, this chapter DOES contain some past emotional wounds of mine but hey, writing is therapeutic. And maybe some of yall went through the same thing.
Anywho, I'll stop rambling and let y'all enjoy! The next chapter probably won't be out for a while since I havent even started, but we shall see!
Have fun with Twiggy! We're about 180k into this slowburn, may as well get some things moving!

Content Warning: Partial non-sexual nudity, emotional scars (social rejection), references to attempted past sexual assault/murder (fic not irl), non-explicit surgical stitching, sexual references, strong language

My tail twitched uneasily. The fact Crosshair of all people was sewing me up...

Of all the ways I expected to be isolated with him for character development in this fic... a wound bandaging scene was not what I imagined.

With Hunter, yes.

Wrecker, maybe.

Perhaps even Tech!

But Cross?

Nope.

Not in a million years did I expect him to be the one to have to stitch me.

The sniper settled behind me and pulled off his helmet plus his gloves. "Relax. Can't work if you're tense." The heat of his hand hovered over my skin before resting on my left shoulder blade.

I flinched at first at the skin on skin contact before trying to force the tension from my shoulders. Ironically, his hands were probably cleaner without gloves...

"Better."

I rolled my shoulders as another chill went down my spine. "Easy."

"Doin' my best," he retorted. "Use that special bag of yours and summon a water bottle or somethin'."

"Not exactly in the position to get up."

Crosshair grumbled under his breath but retrieved the bag and dropped it beside me while keeping his head turned. "Here."

"Yeah yeah, I'm as happy about this as you are," I muttered before getting out two bottles and pushing them back behind me to the sniper.

"Get a rag."

"Bossy," I huffed but got that too and passed it back to him.

"Bleedin' stopped."

"Fancy shmancy Alphian healin'. Just need it sewed so it don't reopen."

A grunt as he began to clean the wounds. He was... far gentler than I would have imagined him to be. Then again he was a sniper. They, we, could be a rather meticulous and light-handed lot if we wanted.

Wait, was "light-handed" even the right phrase?

Crosshair working on my bare back was skewing my thoughts.

Of all the Batches to have a wound bandaging scene underscored by not so subtle sexual tension...

"Get tweezers. There's debris."

"Sir yes sir," I muttered, retrieving them and handing them back.

It took everything in my body not to twitch as the tweezers tickled the edges of the wound.

"Stop squirmin'." A pause. "You'll make it worse."

Ears flicking at his tone, which I could swear bore an element of concern, I tried to sit still.

"There we go."

I flicked my ears again and tried to focus on something other than the feel of the sniper's hands on my back.

Finding nothing, I resigned myself to endure my brain's hyper-examination of the sensory stimuli.

That warm hand still pressed against my back, steadying me as Crosshair worked. The rough pads of his fingers tickled alongside the tweezers. Slow, even breaths warmed the back of my neck, raising the hair there. Silence, ripe with tension, hung thick in the air like early morning fog.

Should I make conversation?

No, he didn't do conversation.

I couldn't help but notice that, despite his rather abrasive outward demeanor, his touch was...

Gentle.

Grounding.

The tension slowly trickled away, lifting from my shoulders and giving me space to breathe.

Hesitating, I brushed my tail against his leg.

The sniper made no comment.

I hesitated once more before I flopped it so it would stay against his thigh.

I still received no comment from the sniper. Perhaps he didn't notice?

My next move was risky. So risky. But I needed to know.

Needed to know if he cared about me being in his bubble.

I lifted my tail and rested it atop his leg.

He shifted... but left the tail there.

Interesting.

I released a tense breath and slowly let the bulk of my tail slide into his lap. There was no way in hell he didn't notice it now. Yet he didn't move it as he began to apply the bacta.

He doesn't mind it? Cross, you really are a tough twig to figure out.

His free hand left my back and thin fingers took hold of my tail. Yet instead of removing it, he adjusted it in his lap and went back to his work.

Well I'll be a monkey's uncle. He doesn't mind!

Yet I found myself breathing a sigh of relief as the tension in the air faded further.

Finishing up with the bacta, Crosshair said, "Goin' to stitch now." My tail twitched uneasily, but his hand rested on my shoulder again. "Done it before. Won't hurt."

"Ain't the pain," I mumbled. "It's the needle itself."

"Should have thought about that before you jumped on its back."

As I winced at the reminder, the hand on my shoulder flinched as well.

"Just... that was a dumb move," he grumbled, voice low. "Easily could have been killed."

"But I wasn't," I replied slowly. "And it worked."

"Dangerous thinkin'," he growled.

I shrugged. "Desperate times called for desperate measures."

With the shit yall get up to? You're lecturing me?

"Martyrdom only leaves you dead and would leave us without a guide in this Force-forsaken cesspool."

I snorted. "Thanks for the pep talk, Twiggy."

"I'm serious," he hissed, hand tightening as he yanked a bit too hard at the stitches. "Could have been seriously hurt."

"I can still hike," I replied through clenched teeth. "I'm just slower. Your mission will be just fine."

A deep inhale.

A long stretch of silence.

A slow exhale.

"This isn't about the mission."

The words slammed into me like a truck.

Not about the mission.

No.

That's not what he was concerned about.

He was...

Crosshair was concerned about me.

I glanced back. From the corner of my eye I caught furrowed brows, but his lips weren't twisted in a sneer or scowl. No... it was a worried frown.

Hellfire...

The sight of that soft expression on Crosshair's face jolted me. He... Crosshair was worried about me? For me?

Did that mean... he cared?

I faced forward again. "I did what I had to. It's my fault we ended up in this pit. I should take the brunt of the injuries, that's just fair."

His breath halted momentarily before he sighed softly and finished one gash. "It's not."

Was this concerned Crosshair?

It was... I liked this Crosshair.

"I'll recover. Survived worse."

"See that." His thumb brushed the exit wound scar left by Anthony's gun.

My ears flattened. "Yeah... that." Hot rage simmered beneath my skin as that bastard's face flashed across my vision. Dark satisfaction burned my core as I thought about how the last thing he ever saw out of his left eye was claws coming down.

I should have done worse. Should have done far worse.

I should have been the one to fire the bullet into their skulls...

That lean hand pressed again on my shoulder, slowly driving the tension from it with increasing pressure. "Give the shabuir hell?"

I snorted. "Both of 'em. One lost his dick and the other lost half his sight."

A low chuckle rumbled from the sniper. "Expect nothin' less."

Hellfire, did that comment give me the fuzzies. I thumped my tail against his chest plate. "Careful, Cross. Be any sweeter and you'll give me a toothache."

He pushed my tail down but not enough to dislodge it from his lap. "Claw the one shabuir's eye?"

"Yeah. Wish I woulda shot 'em, since that's the only cure for men like them who think a woman is just a set of holes, but Al took care of that for me." I laughed dryly. "Al was a smuggler, criminal, killer, and could be a downright bastard at times, but he had no tolerance for rapists. Even before I met him."

"Criminals? Should we arrest you, then?"

"Oh you better be jokin'," I groaned.

"Perhaps I am." The hand tightened on my shoulder. "Perhaps not."

I grew concerned until I glanced back and saw a ghost of a smirk on his face. "You, sir, have a dark sense of humor."

"Occupational hazard."

I laughed at that, my entire body shaking.

"Stop that, you'll mess up the stitches," he scolded, lightly smacking an unwounded portion of my back before moving on to the last gash.

"You're the one who made me laugh!" I protested.

"Don't know what you mean."

I wheezed another laugh then glanced over my shoulder. "Ya know, Twiggs... you're alright. Still kinda wanna push you down a hill, but that urge has somewhat abated."

"Happy to hear," he commented dryly. "Now, let me finish."

"Aye aye, Captain." Hitting his chestplate with my tail again, I rolled my shoulders and wiggled into a more comfortable position.

Yeah, Twiggs...

A soft smile tugged my lips.

You're alright.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

Her tail was heavier than he would have thought.

When Shadow learned it would be him sewing her back, Crosshair was already prepared for the kickback. For the rejection. Not that it hadn't stung. She was uneasy around him still, he knew that. Understood that.

Crosshair himself too was uneasy around her.

As foolish as it was, he couldn't deny that he'd begun to value this woman's opinion of himself. Valued what she thought of him.

Valued her approval.

Especially since it was so damn hard for him to get...

And yet...

Back at the fire. She reached out again. Extended a hand, literally and figuratively. Pulled him back after he tried isolating himself.

She showed that she cared...

It was for this reason he allowed more concern to show than he usually would.

The gamble paid off and Shadow relaxed. Not only that, but as he tested the waters, she had too. If he took a risk, she reciprocated. If he showed care, she would too.

If he tried... she would too.

The first time her tail brushed against his leg, he assumed it was accidental. The extra limb proved very animated and he swore it was always moving. The second time, however, he knew it was on purpose.

She deliberately tested how comfortable he was with her in his personal space.

And so he welcomed the gesture. With her tail in his lap, Crosshair found he didn't mind her close to him in the least. If anything... he enjoyed her proximity.

It meant that he'd gained her trust, at least to a degree.

And maker... did he love her laugh. Odd, yet endearing.

If only he had the ability to make her laugh more.

He did worry about that slug-thrower scar. It had to have taken one of her lives. It had to. Shadow mentioned her species could revive, and this must have been an instance of that ability. But she shouldn't have gone through that! If he'd been there...

No force in heaven or hell would be able to save those men from his wrath. Nothing less than a slow, painful death would be adequate revenge.

"Hey, Twiggs?"

He grunted. Did he sew too hard? Did he hurt her?

Her tail twitched uneasily. "I know you aren't a conversationalist but... can I ask a question?"

The hesitation in her tone piqued his curiosity.. "Listenin'."

"How do your eyes work? Like... can you zoom in like a telescope or does it just amplify things?"

She wanted to know about his mutation? Most people just cared that it worked.

Why did her simple question, her casual curiosity, warm his chest?

"Can zoom in at will."

"So..." she ventured, glancing back with a nervous smile. "When you get trigger happy... you get the Zoomies?"

What was she doing?

Was this her version of flirting?

It was horrible.

And...

Cute.

"Callin' me a Tooka?"

"Why ever would I do that?"

The smirk she sent his way was far too similar to the one she often flashed at Hunter. Crosshair now understood why Hunter got sputtery whenever she smiled at him like that...

He rolled his eyes to hide that fact she'd caught him off guard with that smirk and pushed her shoulder. "Stop twistin'. Need to finish this last gash."

"Sorry Charlie," she replied, focusing her piercing gaze ahead of her again. She remained silent, but her tail continued to occasionally brush against his chestplate.

Why she chose Charlie of all names, he did not know.

What he did know... is he now had a new name to use while undercover.

He... He just loved that name. Charlie... it suited him.

Shadow always seemed to know just how to reach him...

An incident from earlier crept back to the front of his mind.

His weakness. That one weakness she lied about.

Why? Why had she lied? Why hadn't she read the true weakness?

What had she hidden from the others?

He had to know.

"Furball," he whispered, not missing the shudder that went down her spine as he leaned closer. "What was my fourth weakness?"

Shadow stayed silent, shoulders growing tense, before the tension bled out and she mumbled something.

Something that started with an "i"...

"What?"

Another deep breath.

A pause.

An exhale.

"Insecurity."

Dank farrik...

He tried so hard...

So hard to ensure people never knew that side of him.

Never knew that uncertain, scared cadet he kept locked away, hidden beneath layers of harsh words and vindictive sneers. A cadet who only ever got bullied and tormented and hated and constantly told he was too weak by everyone...

But...

Shadow wasn't like everyone.

Everyone hated him.

But not Shadow.

"Already knew that, didn't you?" he whispered.

Shadow huffed. "Discernment isn't my strong suit... but I know there's more to you than you show. And I'm all too familiar with hidin' behind a wall of anger. Was bullied all the time as a kid, became second nature. Even in my main neighborhood friend group, I'd be the odd one out. People just don't like you if you're different, and kids can be the worst at it."

Her words cut deeper than he would have liked. Just like the strawberry patch yesterday. To know she knew more than most people ever would... "Why lie? Why say my weakness was something else?"

"Because..." Her tail went slack. "Does it really matter?"

"Furball," he said, careful to keep his voice soft.

"Why should it matter why I hid it?"

He squeezed her shoulder. "Because I want to know."

"Why... why does it matter?"

"Shadow."

She remained quiet, then sighed. "I knew you wouldn't want me to know. I know how it can be with strangers. I know the worry that they'll make you an outcast just like everyone else does. Or worse, they'll rip you apart for a laugh."

You aren't a stranger anymore. Crosshair all but bit his tongue to keep it in.

He couldn't... no.

It wasn't that deep.

It couldn't be that deep.

He just trusted her now, that's all.

That was all it was.

That was all he could allow.

Nevertheless, Crosshair murmured, "Don't mind that you know... sweetheart."

Every time he said that word, every time he called her that, more of its abrasive edge dulled.

More of the hostility faded, leaving behind not an insult...

But a genuine nickname with the affection to sustain it.

Shadow's ears flicked up at his admission. "Cross, I promise. The secret is safe with me."

He didn't miss the protectiveness in her voice, nor did he miss how good it made him feel. "Why go to such lengths to keep it?"

"Because... I know what it's like to not fit the standard. Know what it's like to want to keep it hidden how much bein' rejected can hurt."

Such a strange woman...

But that very oddness drew him to her. Oddness that, apparently, pushed people away in the past.

All because she didn't fit the standard.

No wonder she took a liking to them. She was one of them.

Different.

So many questions he wanted to ask. Knowing she shared his bitterness... knowing that she understood...

She hadn't been a lab rat, but in all honestly... that wasn't what hurt the most.

It was rejection by those who should have been his brothers. Those damn regs. Instead they turned away from him. Thought they were better. Hated him and his brothers. Laughed at them. Tormented them. Insulted them at every turn.

Reject.

Outcast.

Failure.

All because they were different.

"I couldn't help it..."

Crosshair blinked in surprise as Shadow spoke his next thought aloud. "What?"

"Not bein' like everyone else. Every class has that one weird kid." A soft yet hurt laugh. "Kinda sucks growin' up and realizin' that you were that kid. Realizin' that even in your own outcast friend group you were the odd one out." A growl suddenly rumbled in her throat. "Ugh. Sorry. Fuck... Sorry. Shouldn't have dumped that on you. I'll shut up now. Know you're not a conversationalist."

With you I would be.

He bit the words back at the last second, instead saying, "Don't mind."

How could he mind Shadow opening up to him? How could he mind her showing weakness? Showing trust?

Meant more than he could put into words.

"It ain't fair for me to complain when y'all went through far worse."

"Pain is pain," Crosshair said, allowing another sliver of sympathy to show through.

"Yeah... Yeah, it is. Got a point, Cross." She sighed. "Know you aren't big on conversation but... I do enjoy talkin' with you."

She... did? "Why?"

"Like your voice. And you're smart." She paused. "And... when you're not insulin' me..."

He winced.

"It proves... that there is a heart under those briars."

His words barely reached above a whisper. "Not one you'd like."

She smiled softly at him over her shoulder. "Let me be the judge of that."

To his surprise, Crosshair found himself offering a smile back.

Shadow's eyes lit up with what he could only describe as happiness, a sight that warmed his entire body, before that characteristic cheeky grin of hers returned. "Now, c'mon, Ram'ser." She lightly elbowed him. "Fix this so we can get movin' before I get twitchy. My ADD don't let me stay still for long."

But... once he was done they'd return to the others and whenever that happened Shadow would focus mainly on them. She only paid attention to him, only softened towards him, when they were alone.

And... he liked soft Shadow. For being so abrasive normally...

She could be down right sweet at times.

"Or... guess we could chill here for a little extra if you want to take your time," Shadow said slowly, and it was then Crosshair realized his face betrayed his disappointment to the woman.

"No, you're right. I'll get this done."

That same emotion he failed to hide flooded Shadow's face, but she just tiredly shrugged and faced forward again. "Your call, Twiggy."

"Slower... would be safer."

She straightened slightly. "Aye... aye that's true."

Another soft smile tugged his lips as he continued his work.

More time with her...

He would never say no.

"Shit!" she suddenly exclaimed, making him jump.

"What?"

"My sabers! I lost them in the water!" Shadow groaned, smacking her hand into her forehead. "Damn it all to the depths."

Two objects landed beside them.

The... sabers?

Crosshair immediately reached for his pistol and shifted into a defensive kneeling stance. Shadow was in no position to fight currently, and he'd be damned if he let her get injured further.

A man with eratic greying hair and tan skin stood in the shallows, stance relaxed and a friendly smile on his face. Who in the galaxy...

Wait.

The backs of his hands bore strange tattoos...

"Max?" Shadow exclaimed, shifting around.

Crosshair was careful to keep his eyes on the god and not a shirtless Shadow. He knew Wrecker and Hunter had a bet about who'd see her shirtless first, but he'd wanted no part of that.

Shadow would never show herself like that to him anyways. Why waste time on wishful thinking?

Not that he thought about her that way.

He couldn't.

She didn't like him that way.

He didn't like her that way!

He couldn't let himself like her that way.

The god offered a two finger salute. "Remember," he said, voice warm yet mischievous. "Those weapons are your life!" With that, he fizzled into mist and faded away.

"Mischievous fucker," Shadow grumbled.

"Bold to call a powerful entity that," Crosshair remarked.

"It's complicated," she mumbled as she clipped her sabers back to her belt. "But you almost done?"

"Few more left," he replied, sitting back down.

Once he finished, mind swirling with thoughts about the Ancient's appearance and what having a god following them could mean for later, Crosshair smoothed his hand over the stitches. Strong muscle flexed under his hand, but Shadow didn't seem perturbed by his touch. No, she...

She seemed to relax under his hand.

Warmth spread through him once again, and he found himself smiling.

Trust...

He had her trust. .

As she slipped her sports bra and top back on and tried to get back up, he realized that he was going to have to test that trust.

"Don't put weight on that leg," he said, picking up her pack and putting it in his own. How a rifle or even two could possibly fit in this flimsy bag, he had no idea.

Shadow looked up at him in confusion. "I can't exactly hover or levitate across the swamp."

He shook his head and slipped his helmet on. "Not that."

"Then... what-?"

Before he had time to second guess himself, Crosshair knelt down, slipped his arms under Shadow, and picked her up.

"Oh."

Until that moment, Crosshair had no clue that Shadow's voice even reached that pitch. Nor did he know her ears could go that far back.

Nor did he know she could get that red.

At least he thought he saw her face get red. His helmet wouldn't let him look discreetly at her. What he could see was Shadow turning her head as her tail twitched furiously.

She didn't hate this, did she?

"I guess... yeah this... well... no other... yeah."

No, she wasn't mad.

She was flustered.

That made him feel way more smug than it should have.

"Won't take long to get back to the others."

"Sure, yeah, right, uh huh, got it."

It took all Crosshair had not to chuckle as he carried Shadow across the muddy expanse. Even in this form, Shadow did not weigh too much.

He tried not to think about how right her in his arms felt. He tried not to think about the way Shadow's arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders. He tried not to think about how he could feel her warmth even through his blacks. He tried not to think about how flustered she got when he picked her up.

Crosshair failed every objective miserably.

It would bite him in the ass later, he knew that for a fact, but...

For this brief moment, he allowed himself to lose.

Because Shadow...

Shadow was worth it.