Miss Me
Author's Note: Enjoy this S2 AU where Crosshair is successfully rescued from Tantiss! 💖
This is for the Bad Batch Appreciation Week. Day 5 is Crosshair. :D
PS. This is for the Bad Batch Bingo square of "Soft". ^-^
~ Amina Gila
They'd run into Saw Gerrera on Eriadu, and it nearly blew the mission. If Hunter hadn't been thinking as fast as he had, if he hadn't told Tech to backtrack with him to the hangar to scan and remove the explosives there, they would never have been able to track Hemlock. But they succeeded in the same risky, daring manner as they had during their missions throughout the war. It felt like – like it did during the war, when they'll pull an insane, stupid stunt that should have no realistic way of working, but it somehow did, because it was them and they were good at what they did.
It felt like back then, but Crosshair wasn't there.
Hunter hadn't taken the time to really think about what it would mean for them to get Crosshair back when they hatched a plan to extract their long-lost brother from Tantiss. He hadn't stopped to think about it on the way there, too focused on going over every last detail. He hadn't thought about it when they broke into the facility or when they located Crosshair or even when the guards were chasing them as Wrecker carried a mostly unconscious Crosshair out.
He was being tortured there. Tortured. Tortured like Hunter thought he would be after his capture on Daro, and no matter how risky it was, he can't help but feel relief that they went. He'd been terrified, several times, that they'd lose someone, but they didn't. They made it, and they're all safe now, back on Pabu.
With Crosshair.
Crosshair is here.
The words are real, but the concept… Well, Hunter can't quite wrap his mind around the concept just yet, because he's grown too used to not having his youngest brother here. Crosshair has been away from them for months. Months. Not a day or two. Not even weeks. Months. He's a different person now. They're different people now. Sure, he might have turned on the Empire, and they might have gone to get him out because he's still their brother, but so many things happened between them.
Crosshair chose to leave him. He hurt them, again and again. He – he did so much to them, so many things, and trying to sort through all those hurts… will not be easy. Hunter hadn't given it much thought until now, until after they're back on Pabu, and Tech is scanning Crosshair inside, ignoring his complaints, patching him up with Echo's help while Wrecker and Omega have already gone off to spend time with the locals, probably Lyana, if Hunter had to guess. And he's sitting at the top of the ramp, just sitting here, and thinking. Brooding, if he's being honest.
Even if Crosshair turned on the Empire, that – that doesn't mean they can… trust him. Hunter doesn't want to think it – it feels wrong of him to even question it, but he has to, because he's the squad leader, and he's responsible for them. (Them, but not Crosshair, because he chose a different path, and Hunter had to force himself to let go of those feelings lest they tear him apart. It was hard, so hard, and it nearly broke him to do it, but… Crosshair chose a different path, and Hunter had to let him go.)
He ought to be happier than he is right now. He should – he should be happy that Crosshair is back, and his family is finally, finally together for the first time since everything began, since they first left Kamino. Hunter should be happy or at least relieved, but instead, all he feels is… conflicted.
He has… too many questions. Concerns. He doesn't know if Crosshair will stay here, or if he'll want to leave with Echo, or go his own way entirely. He doesn't know how Crosshair feels about anything, if he even regrets the things that he did to them. The last time they were together, on Kamino, Crosshair tried to kill him. He'd tried to kill all of them. And Hunter doesn't know how to let that go, not when the safety of his family might depend on it.
Hunter doesn't need to look back to know who it is when he hears the footsteps behind him. "How is he?" he asks.
Echo leans against the doorway of the Marauder. "He'll be fine," he answers. "He was tortured for a while, but with proper rest, he'll be fine. We treated all his injuries."
Hunter does look back at that, and their eyes meet. "Has he… said anything?"
"Not much," he replies, shaking his head, "Not other than to complain about Tech fussing over him." That sounds like Crosshair, alright, the Crosshair that they knew and grew up with, not… the dark version of him Hunter faced down on Kamino. He wanted Crosshair back so badly that he hadn't thought about how hard it would be. He wants the little brother he knew and grew up with, not the one who was trying to kill him. But he doesn't know if there was a difference anymore. So much has changed, and Hunter no longer knows what was Crosshair and what was… the chip. If, indeed, his chip was ever affecting him after the beginning.
"I removed my chip a long time ago."
"Since when?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"This is who I am."
Hunter rubs his face, blowing out a tired breath. "I don't know what to do about him."
Echo's gaze flickers back towards the inside of the chip. "Yeah," he says, understanding, "Just – try talking to him. Be gentle. I – I'll be around, if you need me."
"Thanks." He nods, moving over to let Echo exit from the Marauder. Tech follows shortly thereafter, only exchanging a quick look with Hunter that expresses all of his own reservations, which must be similar to Hunter's, but he doesn't say anything with Crosshair so close by. They'll need to talk later. Hunter will need to talk to all of them later, to see how they're feeling. Crosshair shot Wrecker on Kamino, and Wrecker… for all that he wanted to get Crosshair back, he's never let go of the betrayal of Crosshair hurting him, them, and walking away.
Their family is a mess, and Hunter has no idea how they can move forward from here.
Hunter can hear Crosshair approaching him, slow, hesitant footsteps, and he forces himself to stay neutral, to not tense, even as his fingers itch to reach for his vibroblade. He can't do that though, can't pull a weapon unless Crosshair gives an indication that he means to hurt them. But still, his skin crawls at the knowledge that Crosshair is behind him, and he can't see him.
"I suppose I should have expected you to stay and babysit instead of going off with the others," Crosshair says, and Hunter scoots over to the edge of the stair, almost automatically, giving his brother room to sit next to him, though he doesn't know that he'll actually take up the offer.
A few seconds tick by before Crosshair lowers himself onto the ramp next to Hunter. It's not very wide, not enough for two people to sit without touching each other, at any rate. They used to do this, but that was before everything fell apart between them. "Someone had to," Hunter answers, feeling awkward and uncertain. He feels like he doesn't know how to talk to Crosshair anymore, his instincts and feelings torn between hugging him and pushing him away. A part of him still sees Crosshair as a threat, and he doesn't know when that will change. "I thought we probably needed to talk," he adds, because he doesn't want to give Crosshair the impression that they don't trust him, even if it's true.
"You don't trust me." Crosshair's voice is quiet, matter of fact, stating a truth without expressing any of his own feelings about it. (Does it hurt him to realize that?) "I understand that."
"It's not –" Hunter begins, almost defensively, stopping when Crosshair huffs out a breath.
"Save it, Hunter. We both know you'll be lying if you deny it." There's no sarcasm in the words, no bite. If anything, he just sounds tired. Worn out. He doesn't – he's so different now.
The silence feels awkward. It never used to feel awkward for him to sit in silence with Crosshair, but it does know, and he hates that. "Are you alright?" Hunter asks, kicking himself right after, because that was such a stupid question. Of course, Crosshair isn't alright.
He shifts next to Hunter, as if testing out his muscles, and Hunter doesn't miss the way his expression momentarily tenses with pain. "I'll be fine. I've had worse." A pause, and then, hesitantly, as if he's fumbling for words as much as Hunter is, "I – thank you for… coming. I didn't expect you to."
"You may have left us, but you're still our brother," Hunter replies firmly. That is one thing he's certain of. Everything else… not so much.
"Even after I hurt you?" Crosshair is looking at him, eyes guarded and wary, and it makes something inside of Hunter twist uncomfortably. There was a time that, when they were alone, them and Wrecker and Tech – and Echo when he came later – Crosshair was always open with them. He never felt the need to hide from them, and that – those days are gone now. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to see.
"Yeah, you hurt us," Hunter says, because he's not going to hide from that. If Crosshair is going to stay, he has to at least acknowledge what he did to them. "But even then." And that's true, too. They grew up together, saw each other at their worst, but they stuck together through it all. He doesn't know why that should be any different now, even if it hurts more. It'll stay true even if Crosshair decides to walk away from them for good. (And he cannot say how much the thought of that fills him with gut-wrenching pain and fear.)
Crosshair studies him for a moment, probably trying to judge his sincerity, before he looks away. "I – I'm sorry," he blurts out. "I can't excuse what I did to you. I know it was wrong."
Hunter has been trying to ignore the pain and confusion that dogged his every step after Kamino ever since they left the landing platform there. He's – leaving Crosshair there had gutted him, and if he hadn't been so certain that letting Crosshair make his own choices was for the best, he would never have done it. It would have been wrong of him to force his own desires onto Crosshair, making him come if that's really not where he wanted to be. He said he took his chip out, and…
And that was it.
He had a choice, and he didn't choose them, and it hurts.
"Why did you?" Hunter asks before he can stop himself, far too aware of the pain that's leaked into his voice, no matter how hard he tries to keep his tone neutral. He's agonized over it for so long, wondering why Crosshair left him as if everything they went through together meant nothing to him.
Crosshair curls in on himself at the question, which doesn't bode well for the answer. "I – I… It felt like the right choice, at the time," he answers quietly. "I – we've always been taught to follow orders, to be good soldiers, because that was the only thing that mattered. Our lives have never meant anything, Hunter. We were experiments, created to fight and die for something that… we might not even have believed in if we had a choice."
It's an answer, but it's also really not. "But then why stay?" Hunter wants to know. "Why fight us? You could have left. We'd have taken you with us on Kamino, even after everything."
"I know you would have." His expression twists with some emotion that Hunter can't quite read. Bitterness maybe. "But would that really have been the right choice?"
Hunter… is confused, admittedly. "Why wouldn't it have been?"
Crosshair huffs out a breath that's far too bitter to be a laugh. "I tried to kill you," he reminds bluntly. "Multiple times. Why are they leaving you alone with me now?"
Echo is nearby, or at least he said he would be, but Hunter doesn't know how close he really is, if Crosshair isn't even seeing him nearby. Hunter doesn't sense him, either. "In your current state, there is very little you could do to actually harm me if you wanted to," Hunter points out dryly. Not to mention that Crosshair doesn't even have any weapons. "… You're not going to try anything, are you?" Not that he thinks Crosshair is planning to; his posture is too relaxed, too… defeated, to make Hunter think he's intending to try hurting him or any of them.
"What do you think?" he drawls, but he doesn't quite pull off the mocking sarcasm that he'd probably been hoping for.
"I think that whatever happened to make you turn on the Empire means you're no longer going to see us as enemies for leaving," Hunter answers honestly.
"Don't become my enemy."
"Crosshair, we never were."
Leaving the Empire was treason, but it was the Empire they turned on, not Crosshair. They'd wanted different things, like Hunter had tried telling him on the platform before they left. He doesn't know if Crosshair ever really accepted his words though.
"Hm. Perceptive," Crosshair agrees grudgingly. He shifts, fidgeting as if he wants a toothpick to distract himself with, but doesn't have one on hand.
"When did you remove your chip?" Hunter queries, curious but also dreading the answer, because he can't imagine what it would mean if the Crosshair who'd faced them on Bracca was really him. He doesn't – he's tried to accept it, all this time, but he thinks a part of him has stubbornly clung to the desperate hope that the brother he grew up with wouldn't have done that on his own. He was going to have them incinerated in the ion engine.
Crosshair tenses, expression blanking, and a pit of anxiety and dread churn in Hunter's gut. It should be a simple answer. Why is he hesitating? "I know you believe in the… chips," Crosshair says finally, "And I – I know that you want to believe in them since it's… easier, but I – don't." He shakes his head, and Hunter's apprehension nosedives into confusion.
"They are real," he argues, uncomprehending. "We – I know they are. We've had… experience with them. Wrecker's chip activated briefly. We know they're real. We know it's… not really you, under the chip."
"Maybe it was different with him," Crosshair finally replies dismissively. "I felt like myself the whole time."
"No, that's not… possible." It can't be. "On – after the order came out on Kaller, you were… different. That's why Tech theorized that yours was somewhat functional."
"Back then, maybe," he agrees, "But after that…"
"But you said you took it out!"
"It's the logical conclusion," Crosshair answers, "When I felt like myself after – after they first took me from the cell. I don't… I can't explain why I did what I did, but it – it all felt like the right choice then. We were trained to follow orders, Hunter, and even if you don't want to accept it, that's what I did."
He's torn, wanting to cling to the belief that Crosshair may not have had a choice – he doesn't even know that he got the chip out, but he's so… certain. He felt like himself, he said, and – and that wasn't true about Wrecker. He had sort of understood what he was doing, that he didn't really want to, but he couldn't stop himself. Crosshair… Maybe the chip was different with him. Maybe it's still there.
But for all that Hunter wants to believe that – he'll have Tech check, later, just to be sure – he doesn't know what it will mean if – if it's not. If it was always gone, then it was Crosshair who tried to kill them, again and again, of his own. And he doesn't – he doesn't understand it. "But –" he begins, helplessly, trying to cling to what he's always thought he knew about his brother. "– But you wouldn't…" He doesn't even know what he's trying to say. Do that? He did do it, though, even if it wasn't entirely him. (But what if it was?)
"It was me," Crosshair growls, "Stop trying to make excuses. I know what I did. And I… regret it now, but I still – I did it. I…" He falters, voice becoming quieter. "I'd understand if you don't trust me or want me to stay."
"We want you to stay," Hunter assures him without even hesitating. "We can – even if – even if it was you, we can still… work it out." Somehow. He doesn't know how, doesn't know if it's even realistic, but he can't – he can't lose Crosshair again.
Crosshair makes a quiet, disbelieving noise, and something inside Hunter crumbles. Stars, what if that really was Crosshair? What if things really went so wrong without Hunter even noticing? What if –? But he can't lose him. He doesn't think he could bear it if Crosshair just walked away again without looking back.
"Can we." He doesn't believe Hunter, not really. Hunter probably wouldn't believe himself if he was in Crosshair's place, but then again, he wouldn't have ever hurt his brothers in the first place, not of his own.
Don't leave, he wants to beg, but doesn't, because he doesn't have the right to ask that of Crosshair. Don't leave us again. He – he hadn't wanted to believe it was really Crosshair, all that time, those times he fought against them. He had known it was possible, but he hadn't wanted to accept it, hadn't wanted to think that he could have missed all that time, that Crosshair might have really started choosing orders over them. It doesn't make sense. It doesn't fit with the brother he thought he knew, but then, the brother he thought he knew wouldn't have chosen to hurt them, either.
"Why did you turn on the Empire?" he inquires. He's curious, and he also needs a distraction from the painful questions that are tearing him apart inside.
"I shot my commanding officer," Crosshair answers, bitterness and loathing in his voice. "He saw the clones as expendable, and – there was a reg. He – we… nearly died, and the Empire did nothing to save him. Clones were being phased out. No one cared about us. You were right; I was just a number to them."
Hunter reaches out, touching his arm lightly, a reminder that he's there. He can't just sit here while Crosshair struggles, especially if he can help. But the answer only brings up even more questions, questions that he doesn't even know how to ask, questions that he doesn't think he even can ask for fear of what the answers will be. What about us? We asked you to leave the Empire. Why didn't you leave for us? Why did it take a stranger for you to realize that the Empire doesn't care? You – you were ordered to kill us. How did that mean nothing to you?
"I'm sorry," he manages finally, "For leaving you behind. I know we'd promised never to leave each other." He pauses, takes a breath to steady himself, and then asks, "Is that… part of why you…?" It's not a sentence he can even finish.
"Partially," Crosshair admits after a moment, "I was angry. Hurt. But it was safer for you to be away. I couldn't – I'd tried to hurt you. I'd shot Wrecker. It was… safer. For you. It – I – it might be… better. If I left."
The words are a gut punch, and he can't breathe through the pain. "If that's really what you want," he says instead of pleading like he wants to do. He can't do that, though. It would be wrong. This is about Crosshair, not about them.
"What do you want?" The question is almost curious, but it's wary, too.
His response is quick. "Doesn't matter. I don't get a say anymore." And yes, maybe he sounds bitter about that, but he thinks he has a right to be. He's never wanted Crosshair to leave. He's their brother. They grew up together.
Crosshair pauses, studying him. "You want me to stay," he states flatly, resigned, looking away and shaking his head. "I – I'm not one of you, Hunter."
It digs into his heart, crushing it. He feels like he's losing Crosshair all over again, the world settling out of alignment in a way it was never meant to be. Please. You can't – "Of course, you are," he snaps, angry because it's easier to show his anger than his hurt. It hurts, and he doesn't know how to make it stop, or if he even can. "You always have been, even when you chose to leave us."
Crosshair scoffs, disbelieving. "I wanted to hurt you," he answers with the same brutal honesty that Hunter has always admired – except on the occasions when he doesn't want to hear the truth; he doesn't know this is the truth, and if it is, he doesn't want to hear it. "I was going to hurt you. That was me." His voice is harsh, rising a little on the last sentence. If Hunter looks at him, he knows he'll meet intense, narrowed eyes that pin him in place, reading him even through his walls. "I don't – looking back, I don't know why… I can't explain it, but it was real then, to me," he continues, more gently, if it can really be called gentle when each word only twists the knife in deeper. "It could happen again. I don't want to… risk you like that."
"It could just have been the chip," Hunter offers weakly.
"So what?" he sneers. "It didn't change who I am or what I'm capable of."
And that's it, isn't it? The – what they do under the chip, it's all things they're capable of on their own, even without whatever prompting is in the programming. "We were trained to follow orders, Hunter," Crosshair said earlier, and they were. It's easier to say "it was the chip" than it is to face what it means that – that Crosshair did that to them. Nothing will be the way it used to be, even if he stays. He'll still have done it. He'll still have tried to kill them. They will still have left him behind, when it was the one promise that they made to each other at the beginning.
It's not something that a simple 'I'm sorry' can fix.
Hunter clenches his jaw, looking away, swallowing as emotions claw their way up his chest from the box that he's carefully kept them locked in all this time. It was easier not to think about Crosshair too much, easier not to dwell on his absence, because it would drag him down a never-ending pit of no return. He had to be strong and support the others while they tried to cope with losing Crosshair; he never got that chance for himself, and he doesn't know if he would have taken it even if he had, because some things hurt too much. It was easier to keep pushing, to keep moving, to let Omega's presence be his anchor, letting her give him a purpose.
But it hurts. Stars, it hurts.
It's not just about them struggling to adjust to Crosshair being back, to learning how to relax around him. It's also about how Crosshair can't forgive himself, isn't it? And that's not something Hunter can do for him. He can't help him work through it if Crosshair doesn't want his help.
(Why does it only now seem real to him that it was Crosshair who they fought, who tried to kill them, who they hurt and left behind? It was Crosshair. Crosshair, their youngest brother, who was always so protective of them, who cared so deeply, who learned how to hide his feelings under masks and with barbed words. A lifetime of growing up together, and now, it's all over.)
Something inside him breaks, and his next inhale is shaky, the hint of a choked down sob in it, as tears blur his vision. He hasn't cried in years. He probably hasn't cried since they nearly lost Wrecker to the explosion that claimed his eye – and Crosshair had been there with him; they'd held each other through the fear and guilt and pain. He tries not to cry, because it doesn't help, and he's their leader, the one who needs to be strong for his brothers – and now Omega. He can't afford to get lost in his own emotions. He's the calm one, the level-headed one. That's always how it's been.
He breathes in shallowly, willing himself to get a grip. He's not going to lose it now, not in front of Crosshair. It – he needs to stay in control.
For a heartbeat, no one moves, Hunter pointedly looking away so Crosshair can't see the turmoil that's undoubtedly being displayed prominently on his face. He doesn't want to talk about his feelings, not to Crosshair (and not to anyone). And then, Crosshair's hand lands onto his arm, a cautious hesitance to it as he slides his hand down into Hunter's, squeezing it firmly enough to be reassuring.
And Hunter loses it.
His shoulders tremble as he fights against the wave of emotions that slip free and crash over him, drowning him under paingriefguilt, a strangled, choked, half-sob escaping from his throat. The tears come next, and he's helpless to do anything in the face of them except lower his head to try and hide it – however fruitlessly – while Crosshair tightens his grip on his hand.
When Crosshair leans into his side, it's a jarring reminder of the things that were, the way he was always, always there when they needed him – all the way up to that encounter in the hangar bay on Kamino – and it only makes him sob harder, because he's missed him, and he doesn't – he has no idea how he, how all of them, have survived this long with a part of them missing. He was just… gone. Out there without them. And Hunter has lost track of the number of times he couldn't sleep, tossing and turning and wondering if his youngest brother was okay. Crosshair might not have been his responsibility anymore, but – but that didn't mean he didn't wonder and worry, knowing that they would never know if he needed them, that they'd probably never even know it if he died until it was too late.
"Crosshair," he whispers, hardly even sure what he's trying to say, if it's a plea or something else. It's been so long, but there are some things they can never forget, and when he twists, reaching for his brother on instinct, Crosshair doesn't even hesitate before reaching back, looping his arms around Hunter and pulling him closer.
Hunter hasn't actually hugged one of his brothers in a long time. The Kaminoans frowned on physical displays of affection, and anything more intimate than a shoulder pat or the like was stamped out when they were still cadets. But years of being trained to push down and disregard his feelings aren't enough to stop him from burrowing closer to Crosshair, pressing his face against his brother's shoulder and clinging to him as he cries.
Crosshair strokes a hand over Hunter's head, nuzzling against him. "I'm here," he murmurs, and it's soft and gentle and affectionate, and everything that Hunter remembers from when they were younger before – before, even if he can hear the pained note to his words. "I'm here, Hunter."
Stay, he wants to beg. Please stay. I couldn't bear it if you left. He can't say that, though, because it wouldn't be fair. He can't force his own feelings onto Crosshair, even if it'll gut him to see him walk away again. Crosshair matters more than his own desires. He always has. "I missed you," he says, a half-sob, "So much."
"Mm. I missed you, too, Hunter." Still gentle and caring, and it – nothing in the galaxy makes sense right now, not about how they lost Crosshair, not about why they lost him, but Hunter is too worn out to try and sort it through. That Crosshair is here and not trying to kill him, them, is enough. It's enough for now.
He doesn't know how long it is before he finally cries himself out and pulls back, wiping his face and sniffing. Crosshair is watching him, eyes significantly less guarded and wary than they were earlier, and his face is also wet from tears, but he still gives Hunter the barest flicker of a smile. They sit there, still close, taking a moment to recollect themselves, and Hunter realizes that he feels… better. Worn out, maybe, but better than before. The grief and pain aren't nearly as intense or overwhelming as they have been for months whenever he thinks of his lost brother.
"When was the last time you combed your hair?" Crosshair asks, a teasing note slipping into his voice as he reaches out and lifts a strand of hair that's fallen into Hunter's face. "It's a mess."
"Um…" he says intelligently, counting backward in his mind and then deciding not to answer. He hasn't taken the time since their mission to Eriadu, and that was a couple weeks ago. But he's not going to tell Crosshair that, or he'll never live it down. (As if he hasn't gone much longer without giving it care during the war.) "It's not that bad," he settles on, but it's a weak defense, and as he combs his fingers through his hair, they get caught in some tangles, and he winces when it pulls.
"Clearly," Crosshair replies, voice dripping with sarcasm. He pauses for a heartbeat. "Did you want help with that?"
Yes. "Uh…" It's not quite long enough for him to deal with it on his own, not when it gets like this. He tugs at it again before giving up and shrugging.
Crosshair rolls his eyes. "What an example you are setting for the kid," he drawls, pushing himself upright. He sways a little, and Hunter is reminded that he's still recovering from his torture. Instinctively, he reaches out to steady him, and Crosshair lets him, before disappearing into the Marauder.
He comes back a few minutes later – and Hunter can hear him shuffling around inside – dangling a comb between his fingers. "You kept my things," he states, and it's only then that it registers.
"I took yours," Hunter says, a little defensively. "Omega needed one, so I gave her mine, and I didn't think you'd mind."
Crosshair looks terribly amused about that – or something – for some reason. Hunter knows better than to ask, and he turns forward again when Crosshair settles behind him a leg on either side of him, untying his bandana before starting to work through the tangles in his hair. He… has missed this. Usually, if he needs help, he'll go to Tech, since Echo can't help for obvious reasons, and Wrecker's hands are a little too big for this kind of work. Crosshair used to help him, too, way back, and after – after they left Kamino, Hunter got better with maintaining it on his own; constantly having to go to Tech felt… weird, and he really didn't want to set a bad example for Omega.
He'd be lying if he said it wasn't strangely soothing to have Crosshair behind him, working through the tangles in his hair, and maybe it's cowardly to bring up what's bothering him most when he can't see Crosshair's face, but he does it anyway. "What – what do you plan to do now?" Hunter asks. "Do – do you want to stay?"
Crosshair's hands still for a moment, before he keeps working, his fingers steady as always, despite whatever emotions he might be feeling. "I haven't thought about it," he admits, "I – I never expected to leave Tantiss."
He thought he would die there. All Hunter knows is that Hemlock wanted Crosshair to tell him how to find them because he was looking for Omega. Why he wants her, they don't know, but Tech has theorized that it's because of her genetic profile, because she's an unaltered clone. Or maybe there's something else, but whatever it is, it won't be good.
Crosshair sent them a warning, and probably paid for it, too. He thought he would die there, trying to protect them – because that's why he was being tortured; he wouldn't give up anything he knew, not that there was much in the first place.
"But you did," Hunter says neutrally.
"Yes," his younger brother agrees, hesitating again. "I don't know what I'll do now, but whatever it is… I'll keep you safe, even if it means I have to walk away."
Hunter's breath catches in his lungs again, and he breathes out steadily, through the wave of pain that washes over him at the words. Stars, he doesn't want to lose Crosshair again. He's missed him so fiercely, and they risked it all just to get him out of there. They wanted him back so much that Hunter hardly even hesitated to go after him despite the risks. Even if – even if things had gone badly, like he'd been terrified they would, he would still have done it, because he could never have lived with himself if he'd left Crosshair there, suffering.
"You're not a threat to us, Crosshair," he answers firmly, because he believes that. Even if it takes time for him, for all of them, to adjust to having Crosshair back, and even if it takes time for him to stop reacting to Crosshair's proximity or any sudden movements that he makes, Hunter knows that it will be worth it. Crosshair is worth it. The relationship and family that they'd had is worth it. He wants to say I know you won't hurt us, but things have fallen too far for him to make that statement, and it would be a lie.
But he needs to say something. "It was… hard without you," Hunter finally admits because that, at least, is the truth. "It took us a while to adjust, to… function without getting ourselves into one mess after another. We had so many close calls." Their first mission with Cid when they ran into the Zygerrians is a prime example. "We – I know a lot of things happened, Crosshair, but we want you back. We came back for you, and I – I know it'll never make up for how we left you, but… it's something, I guess."
"I – I can't promise to stay permanently," Crosshair tells him slowly, after a few long moments of heavy silence, "But I will for now. I…" He trails off, hesitating, though he never stops working, "I want to see if we can… fix things first."
Hunter tilts his head back to give Crosshair a better angle at which to work. "That – that's all I ask," he answers, swallowing down the tears that prickle at his eyes as relief washes over him. Relief and a tentative hope. Hope that things will be better, that they can mend their broken bonds.
A few minutes later, Crosshair wraps the bandana around Hunter's head, tying it in place. "Done," he tells him, and Hunter turns, meeting Crosshair's eyes. A million unspoken things pass between them, emotions too tangled and complicated to name, and the only thing he can do is cup the back of Crosshair's neck, pressing their foreheads together. It says more than words ever could.
Finally, they pull back from one another, and Crosshair tosses the comb over his shoulder onto the floor of the Marauder.
"… Did you just throw that?" Hunter demands, a little incredulously.
Crosshair smirks. "It's mine. I can do whatever I want with it." Well, there's no arguing with that. He slides out from behind Hunter, settling back on the ramp next to him, pressed up against his side.
It's comforting to have him here so close, without any of the hurts between them as prominently as they were before. But Crosshair keeps glancing at him for some reason, and he wouldn't have thought anything of it if not for the gleam of laughter in his eyes.
"What?" he asks suspiciously, eyeing his younger brother, before a sense of dread and resignation settles over him. Crosshair only snorts. Slowly, he reaches back to feel his hair –
– And finds exactly what he was starting to suspect.
Crosshair cracks up, and it's Hunter's turn to roll his eyes as he starts pointedly undoing the braid that Crosshair made. "Your face," he cackles, and Hunter shoves him, hard enough to make his point, but not hard enough to shove him off the ramp.
"Haha very funny," he deadpans. "I can't wait to see your face when you see what we did with your armor."
Crosshair sits up at that. "What did you do?"
Hunter snickers. "Nothing. … Yet."
"Don't touch it," he warns.
"Actually, we were saving the repainting for you."
"How generous. Do I get to pick something other than the hideous orange and aqua that you currently have?"
"… There's nothing wrong with it!"
"Of course, you would say that," Crosshair drawls, "You're raising a kid now."
"You will be too, if you stay," Hunter throws back smugly.
"How dreadful."
"You'll like her. She's amazing." That's probably an understatement. Omega is – she's so special, so light. She's been their light ever since they left Kamino when they needed something to ground them from the pain of losing their brother.
"Hm." Crosshair leans into his side, and Hunter wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer. They should get up. Crosshair should probably rest, and Hunter should probably let the others know what's happened. But… right now, he just wants to sit with Crosshair at his side, real and here and alive.
It's more than he thought he could ever have again, even if he dreamed of it and wanted it. Now, they actually have a chance to piece their broken family back together, and Hunter intends to make the most of this chance. He isn't going to give up, no matter how many challenges or hurdles are thrown in their path.
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