Chapter 2 - The Night Is Long

Author's Note: Really, everyone just needs a hug right about now. xP

~ Amina Gila

They left him on Kamino, apparently – it was where everything happened. The others had been reluctant about it, but they agreed to go. Omega had wanted to, and the others reluctantly agreed.

Hunter was reluctant, anyway, and Crosshair has no idea how to feel about that. Or any of this. He... he hurt them. It wasn't him, but still could've been, apparently.

And Hunter's right that his alternate-self would be afraid to be with them, because Crosshair himself certainly is right now no matter how outlandish that is. It wasn't him, and nor will it be, because he wouldn't ever hurt his brothers for anything.

Tech thought they should get back to their reality soon, just in case, and their Hunter is already showing signs of being overloaded by the energy change. Strange enough, so has Omega, who's now curled up in the gunner's mount with her alternate self.

Crosshair himself feels wrong – mostly just worn and tired, far more than he ought to – and he curled up in his former self's rack, because clearly, he doesn't need it right now.

He wants to curl up in Hunter's arms again, craves for the safety and protection that would once have brought and no longer does. It still does sometimes, but sometimes it doesn't, too.

He hasn't gotten his mind unstuck from the time when Hunter was with the Empire, was fighting them, when he needed to be worried. And he hates himself for that, because it's Hunter who was apart from them for a month, even if the deep and aching hurt Crosshair felt the moment their brother shot at him in the hangar has never truly faded.

It's better now that he's here, now that he can somewhat understand how he couldn't help it, and it's not always hard, but sometimes...

For the most part, everyone looks the same, and it's... weird. The Hunters are different with their helmets off. Crosshair's is... thinner. Slightly, but it's still there enough for Crosshair to notice. He has a weight in his eyes now that wasn't there before, and the other Hunter has it too, but it's... different. It's guilt, but it's not from being forced to hurt the brothers he was supposed to protect.

The Omegas are a little different, too, now that Crosshair is slightly more used to them. He can't quite tell the difference, but the other one is more... energetic? Even if he doesn't know why that would be.

Probably, because of Hunter, and that their bond changed everything for her. Hunter would have given her the protection she deserves and needed, and that's not something anyone else understood.

He's trying to sleep, but it's not very successful. The other Hunter is nearby, and his mind keeps blurring them together. They're not the same person, though. Their paths diverged long ago somehow, and the Hunter right nearby him isn't the one that hurt him. Maybe that's part of the problem. Maybe...

He doesn't even know anymore.

All he does know is that sleeping is hard.

He hears shuffling, shifting down below. Hunter's moving around, obviously having as much struggle sleeping as Crosshair himself. He rolls over, glancing at Hunter, partly because being able to see him is somewhat relaxing. Whether it's because he misses him, or he feels like he's watching a threat, he doesn't know.

It shouldn't even be a question.

Hunter's sleeping, but his breathing's picked up now and he's moving a bit. Nightmare? They've had those before. Crosshair moves on instinct, swinging himself off his rack and climbs over to Hunter's, shaking his shoulder. "Hunter," he says, because calling someone's name is always an effective way to wake them instantly, "Wake up."

His brother snaps to wakefulness instantly, eyes wide and wild, and he whips out his knife.

Crosshair has the sense of mind to freeze, half because he doesn't want Hunter to gut him on accident – or cut his neck actually because that's where the blade is – or fall ten feet down to the durasteel floor, because that's something they'd both be feeling for a while.

There's a heartbeat of nothing in which they just look at each other before Crosshair finally manages a steady, "Why are you trying to stab me?" (And he's mildly impressed that he managed to keep his voice so calm, considering the fear pulsing through him, and he hates himself for that, too. It's just – it wasn't so long ago he had to worry about Hunter trying to kill him every moment.)

Recognition flares in Hunter's eyes and he jerks back even faster than he'd moved in the first place. "Crosshair," he blurts out in a rush, "I – I'm sorry, I didn't – mean to, I –"

He doesn't want to think about it. He'd much rather pretend this didn't happen at all, actually. "Don't," he says shortly, swinging himself back onto the ladder, putting distance between them. He can't blame Hunter for it, either, because if he woke up from a nightmare of Hunter trying to kill him, his initial reaction would be to grab the nearest weapon, too. "Are you alright?"

Hunter pushes himself upright, still tense, and the guilt in his eyes is back full swing now. "Yeah," he insists, and Crosshair doesn't believe him at all. He sounds shaken, and he very much does not want to know. "But that's..."

"It's nothing," Crosshair tells him, sliding down the ladder and taking off for the cockpit before someone can stop him.

One of the Echos is there. The Techs are in the hold area, talking non-stop about... universe comparisons? Or energy analyses. Something he doesn't care to listen to. He can't tell them apart at all, or the Echos. Wrecker is only distinctive from how he looks at him. It makes him feel even worse, because he's jittery around Hunter, and he shouldn't be.

It's not his fault.

But maybe, if this Hunter is the same way, it's not so senseless.

They're still in hyperspace, and they're going to see Kamino again. He's going to see himself, a version of him that hurt his brothers, and he's expecting nothing short of a threat. He doesn't know, and admittedly doesn't much care to know why he made the choices he did, but he's angry. Very angry.

(Hunter just nearly stabbed him and why does that hurt so much?)

"I never asked earlier," Echo says, and he twitches glancing at him, "But what do you think about him?

"I don't even know which one you are," Crosshair snaps back, pulling out a toothpick and biting down.

Echo lets out a sort of half-laugh. "It's... this me," he offers, "We never figured out names." Echo probably has less idea how to tell them apart than Crosshair. The Techs are fine – which is entirely unfair – considering they're keeping the visors on their helmets down, constantly and obsessively scanning anything and everyone that passes.

"I don't know him," Crosshair bites out, glaring out the viewport at the swirl of hyperspace. "So, I can't tell you."

"I didn't want to think it was him, either," Echo says, a few moments later, "But when he said it, I didn't think of looking deeper. I accepted you were gone, even if it wasn't easy."

For Echo, that's fair. It's fair for all of them, because Crosshair knows they'd have done their best, given the circumstances. They couldn't have made any choice except what they did without him hurting them more. Hunter was still trying to protect them, and he doesn't know if the same can be said about himself.

For a few minutes, they just sit there, and he hears shuffling over the talking. Hunter's approaching, and their footsteps are the same, so he doesn't know which. He doesn't want to talk to either.

"Crosshair?" he asks softly, approaching him, and Echo moves to give Hunter the seat across from Crosshair.

He doesn't want to talk to him at all, but ignoring him will hurt him. Crosshair makes an affirmative sound in lieu of answering.

"I – are you alright?" he asks. It's this reality's Hunter – the one he definitely doesn't want to talk to. Also, the one who very badly needs him, because for as strange as it is to think about Hunter needing him, it's the truth. They need each other. They live with and for each other, and nothing else really matters.

"Why wouldn't I be?" (How could I be?)

Hunter sighs. "Hearing what happened to you was..."

"It wasn't you," Crosshair tells him sullenly.

"What he did wasn't you, either." They watch out the viewport for a few moments, and being here lets him relax somewhat. Not entirely, but mostly, though there's still an aching hurt in his heart that won't go away. "And," Hunter adds, a little quieter, "I'm not sure how much was him, either."

Crosshair glances at him wordlessly. He doesn't know, either, but something isn't adding up. What he's heard from them... doesn't sound like him. Though he'd been wondering the same on Bracca, hadn't he? He'd wondered for a while what part was him, and what wasn't. He hadn't hurt them, only because, back in the hangar, Hunter kept pressing them to surrender. He didn't try to kill them immediately.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Hunter says again finally. When Crosshair glances at him, Hunter's looking away. "I shouldn't have reacted like that."

It's okay, Crosshair wants to tell him, but it really isn't. "Hm," he offers instead. There are a few moments of nothing. Then – "Me too," he offers, and he means it. He is, too. Even if he's not fully sure what for.

Hunter stands, hesitantly reaching out to touch his shoulder. Crosshair leans into it a bit, the often-instinctive wariness not rising up this time. He doesn't understand why it blinks in and out so much, but at least it's not constant. If he were constantly afraid of Hunter, he doesn't know how he'd deal with it.

He doesn't really know how to deal with whatever happened in this reality, either. It... this him could have been him, but it wasn't. It wasn't him, even if he's still capable of it, though he dealt with that already after Bracca. This is different. It hurts, but it's his reality, which makes it a little better. That won't stop him from trying to make this better, anyway.

He's not used to seeing Hunter... needing something. He's always been their leader, the strong one, and he has never needed them. He's never been weak or... any of the things the others have been. He never needed to turn to them for anything.

If they hadn't been separated, if they hadn't lost Hunter, Crosshair doubts he'd have realized that. It's still hard to remember, because Hunter has always been the one to take care of him. Crosshair can't really imagine it being any other way, but he... has to get used to it.

He leans into Hunter's touch, wrapping his arms around his waist and clinging to him. It's somewhat impulsive, but the contact definitely helped on and right after Kamino. Hunter freezes, and it takes a few moments for some of the tension to fade. He loosely loops an arm around Crosshair's back, tugging him close.

The – mostly unjustified – hurt is still lingering, but it's somewhat fading, and he forces it from mind in favor of just being here. He has no idea how easy it'll be for this Hunter to get his own Crosshair back, to get his family back together, and even if there's nothing Crosshair can really do about that, he can still... just be here?

That will help somewhat, right?

He doesn't really know how long it is that they just stay there, holding each other, trying to relax and let go. It's hard, but it's worth it to just be in Hunter's arms for a while, knowing he's safe and protected. He's never found himself wishing the same, has never had a reason to worry about how Hunter felt, but now he... is.

Maybe it's just a part of maturing, but he's worried about Hunter, too. It's foreign and unfamiliar, but not wrong, either.

In both realities, they've been apart for a month, even if it's been about a week since on his own, and it's been hard. They've never spent that long without each other before. Hunter needs him, too, and Crosshair can sort of see that now.

There is, maybe, something more they ought to say, but he doesn't know how. Crosshair doesn't know how to talk about these things. But knowing that this Hunter has the same struggles he's having makes him feel a little better. Maybe there isn't something so wrong with him, after all.

(He's angry though. This reality's version of him hurt Hunter. He hurt him, all of them, and Crosshair cannot forgive him for that. He doesn't forgive people for hurting his family, his brothers and sister.)

He hears shuffling, footsteps – it sounds like Hunter. His Hunter.

After a few heartbeats, he crosses the cockpit, laying a hand on Crosshair's shoulder. It's soothing.

He curls up between them both, feeling their warmth against him. Seeing Kamino again will be hard for all of them. Especially Omega. It's not something Crosshair can even pretend to be ready for, but he has to try.

**w**

Hunter never asked for details about what happened with this-reality's Crosshair. Probably, it's best if he asks him about it. Something doesn't fully make sense, though – he can't imagine Crosshair, or any of them, being willing to leave.

Seeing alternate-them is strange, period. His... this him is close with Omega in a way Hunter can't quite imagine himself being, though he shouldn't be surprised. If he had been in his right mind back at the beginning, he'd have wanted to go back to Kamino, just to get her to safety. It was the right thing to do.

She's a child, and she needed help. She wanted them, and didn't have anyone else. They didn't need a reason to take her in and care for her.

He just can't trust himself to do it right.

When he'd come back, rejoined his brothers, he saw what they had, and he wanted it the moment he saw it. He saw how Omega looked at them, with blind adoration, even if she, in many ways, seemed almost as responsible as them. He'd wanted to get that, too. His brothers cared for her, and that was all he needed to know that he should, too.

It's ridiculous how nervous he feels. It's Crosshair. That's exactly why he's so uncertain, though – talking to him when they don't really know each other will be hard.

"Think you can handle him?" his-Crosshair asks, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He's not even joking – it's a serious, and fair, question. Hunter remembers a time where his youngest brother was so much lighter than this, and he misses it, but they've all changed.

Not really, actually. He has no idea what this-Crosshair will be like. "I'll be fine," he assures, "I'll go alone. Stay inside until I tell you."

(It still feels wrong to give them orders, after he tried to tell them everything wrong, after he hurt them.)

None of them object, not even himself. (Hunter keeps watching him, assessing threats, half expecting him to turn on them like he did, but that's not fair to either of them. Is that how Crosshair feels, too?)

Other-Crosshair is ignoring him. He's sitting towards the edge of the platform, and there's no way he didn't see their ship landing, because he is very much awake, but he's still deliberately ignoring him.

His armor looks too similar to what Hunter himself had worn with the Empire for his liking. And when Hunter sees him, he knows why the others froze up so much when Crosshair took his helmet off back on that planet. He was hurt somehow, badly. The scars aren't as rough or jagged as Wrecker's, but they're deep and far more prominent.

(Seeing Kamino again makes him sick. This is where he tried to kill his brothers, and that was five or six days ago.)

Hunter approaches slowly, calling his name.

Crosshair twitches slightly, but he doesn't look at him. It's not until Hunter sits next to him that he finally glances his way. "Go away. I already told you my decision."

"Crosshair, please," Hunter sighs, hand twitching as he fights the urge to reach out and touch him. "Listen to me."

Crosshair glares at him, fiercely, and seeing it, he knows why the others were willing to leave. Rightfully, they can't force him to do anything – he has to make his own choice. He almost wants to cry from seeing it, and he hates himself a little for that, too.

"I don't know exactly what happened here," Hunter says quietly, "But... I'm from a different place. The kid – Omega – Tech said she opened some kind of portal. I don't understand what happened, but we... ended up here. He said it was a parallel timeline, or something. Then I heard they lost... you, and I wanted to come find you."

Crosshair is sort of side-eyeing him, still glaring. He doesn't believe it, and Hunter can't even blame him. If he hadn't seen it himself, he wouldn't have, either.

It's been a week. Over a week, at least six days, and the Empire left Crosshair here all this time?

He's been stuck here, alone, and it...

Force.

Crosshair nearly jumps when Hunter reaches out, touching his thigh. He's entirely tense, and there's a certain rage to him that Hunter has never seen in his own. This isn't Crosshair. It's not who he is.

"They told me you left, and I wanted to understand," Hunter continues quietly, "Where I'm from, we never lost you. They never lost you."

"I don't know you," Crosshair realizes finally, putting two and two together. He's actually looking at him now, even if he's still glaring. "You're different. You're not him."

"No," Hunter argues, looking away. He's unphased by Crosshair's glares, obviously – he's seen them countless times, but it still cuts at something deep inside him. Crosshair has been angry at him before, but never like this. "But where I'm from, it was me they lost. I know what you're going through, Crosshair."

"You?" He sounds incredulous.

"Yeah." He's staring out across the endless ocean. It's been a week, and the Empire hasn't come, which means they probably don't need to worry about it, but Hunter still wants to get out of here fast. They don't have much time. "I – my inhibitor chip activated, in Order 66," he continues quietly. Talking about this is hard. "When you left, I was sent after you."

Crosshair's hand touches his, gently, hesitantly, but it's still there. "They didn't stay with you, either?" He sounds confused, and maybe slightly stung, too.

The question throws him, mostly because Hunter doesn't even understand the point. "No, and I could never ask them to," he replies firmly. "The Empire was going to kill them. They already hurt Wrecker. At the time, I thought it..." Shame crushes him, just remembering how cold he'd been afterwards. "I didn't think of it," Hunter admits, "Then... But they hurt us, and I should have known we couldn't stay. It was too dangerous. But I wasn't thinking clearly, and... I hurt you," he blurts out.

Probably, he shouldn't tell Crosshair that, but he feels the need to, anyway. This-Crosshair understands how he feels about that, though there's something sharp and cold about him that isn't him. They're not going to be the same, but he'd been expecting Crosshair to be far more... like Hunter himself feels. He'd expected him to be scared and clingy, quite honestly, not... cold and sharp.

"I didn't stay with you?" he asks finally.

"I didn't give you much choice," he confesses, "When I heard you escaped prison, I thought the only way to keep you safe was to capture you again. Even if we were being accused of treason. If you – if they hadn't run, they would've died." He hates himself a little for that. There's not much he doesn't hate himself for, actually.

"What changed?" Crosshair demands, sharply, pulling his hand back.

"Kamino," Hunter replies shortly, sighing. "Echo was captured, and I... we came here. Tech stunned me, and they got my chip out right before the Empire destroyed the city."

"And you left with them?" he guesses, going rigid again.

He blinks. "Of course. You're my squad. We stick together."

Crosshair shoves his hand off, and Hunter crosses his arms, stung. He keeps trying to pretend it doesn't hurt, but it does. "You betrayed the Empire," he snarls.

This isn't him. Hunter recoils a bit, staring. The others had said Crosshair's chip was removed, but he can't believe that. They... "Are you sure your inhibitor chip was removed?" Hunter asks quietly.

Crosshair glares at him. "Yes."

"I want to check," Hunter tells him, and yes, it's blunt, but he doesn't... know how else to say it. "Because this isn't you."

"No," he snaps flatly, standing. It's slightly unsteady, and the pain in his heart twists deeper. When was the last time he ate?

Hunter pushes himself up, halfway reaching for him, only holding back because he's fairly certain Crosshair doesn't want to be touched right now. "Why?" he asks, "If you're so certain?"

He looks scared, which doesn't make any sense. What would he have to be afraid of? "No."

"You're not going to hurt us, Crosshair," Hunter tells him tiredly, because he can understand that. He feels it, too. Constantly. "We all came back."

"It won't change anything," his little brother hisses. "I made my choice."

"I can't leave until I know." He couldn't just... walk away without being entirely certain that Crosshair really did choose this, because he's not certain. Not at all. "I need to know you really can make that choice."

Crosshair's eyes narrow.

"If there's nothing there, what would it hurt?" he prods. Probably, there is, and Crosshair doesn't want them to know for some reason.

Crosshair is still glaring. He hasn't stopped, actually.

He feels... lost. Like he's trying to reach across a gaping chasm for a brother he never really knew. And Hunter loathes that, because it's true. "Whatever you did," he offers finally, "It wasn't enough to destroy what we used to have."

"It's you who left," Crosshair snarls.

"They didn't have a choice," Hunter replies, and he's speaking for both of them. "None of us did, and I think you know that. If they had come back for me, after Kamino, even if they were to rejoin the Empire, I would have hurt them. I would never want that. I know you wouldn't, either."

Crosshair looks sullen. Hurt. "I asked you back," he snaps, "I was to recruit you, even if you should've been executed."

This isn't him, and Hunter can see that even clearer, but it still hurts. Crosshair is hurting, and by default, they all are. He's been there, felt this, and he understands it. He was angry, too, that they wouldn't come back, even if he knew it was for the best. "If the Empire wanted us, they wouldn't have destroyed Kamino when we were still on-planet," Hunter reminds, reaching for him.

Crosshair twitches, but he doesn't outright pull away when Hunter lays his hands on his shoulders, holding him. He aches to pull him closer, like he did with his own an hour ago, but he doesn't think Crosshair will be too receptive of it.

"You take things too personally," Crosshair snaps. "They did what needed to be done."

"They nearly killed all of us," Hunter objects, pulling back. He's angry suddenly – he can't help it. He understands this isn't him, but Crosshair is talking about them like they mean nothing to him. Arguing with him won't change anything when he can't help it.

"We need to leave," he continues finally, "But I... I need to know you'll be alright."

Crosshair studies him, expression unreadable. He doesn't say anything, though.

Desperation is gnawing at him, because he – he can't leave until he knows. This is Crosshair, and he can't just walk away from him. "Crosshair – " He knows every bit of his desperation is slipping into his voice, and he hates himself for being so weak. He hates himself for wanting to break down right here, right now. They have to let him make his own choices, but this isn't him. and abruptly, Hunter understands why this universe's him feels so... lost and uncertain, just like Hunter himself does, when he didn't go through the same thing.

They both failed, even as hard as they tried.

"They need you," he continues, "We won't stop you, if what you want really is to – not stay with us, but it – we can help you." He hates everything about this. Talking to Crosshair is unreasonably hard, and it shouldn't be so difficult. It's Crosshair. Then again, if he were more level-headed himself, it wouldn't be this hard.

But now? He's questioning everything he thought about himself and the galaxy and... everything.

His brothers continued without him, somehow, no matter how disastrous it could've been for them. That isn't something he would've thought could happen, but then again, they never had to worry about being apart from each other. They lost those worries long ago, whenever they finally understood the Kaminoans were making them as a squad, a test run, a... yeah.

So, no, he never thought he'd have to worry about what his brothers would do if he wasn't there. But they still managed it, and he's proud of them, but it – (Do they really need him? What if he's still a danger to them?)

"There's nothing to help," Crosshair snaps back definitely, arms crossed.

Hunter takes a step back from him, hesitant – normally, when Crosshair gets like that, they either sit in silence or Hunter leaves briefly but he can't do that now. He can't just walk away. He said that already. Doing that would kill him. He understands what Crosshair is going through, the loneliness and emptiness, the need to hurt the people he thought he'd spend his life protecting.

Once, maybe, he could've respected that, but now, he... can't.

(If he's on the verge of breaking down entirely, Hunter isn't sure he wants to know what Crosshair at this point would be like, if he was himself.)

With how stubbornly persistent Crosshair is being, with how much he hurt his own family, Hunter knows, now, why they were willing to believe him and walk away. They didn't really have a choice, because forcibly taking Crosshair was wrong, and he already hurt them. Reaching out to him would be hard for them.

It's only not for Hunter, because it wasn't him who was there.

"Yes, there is," Hunter insists. "I know how it felt, when they left Kamino the first time." The loneliness of it was maddening. "I know they hurt you, and you know they didn't mean to. They made mistakes, and we all did, but they would do anything to get you back." I would, too, he wants to say, but he won't, because telling Crosshair that, especially right now, isn't wise.

"Then why didn't they stay with me?" he demands.

"They didn't have a choice," Hunter argues numbly.

"No," Crosshair snaps, shoving him back a step. It's almost unreasonable how much that hurts. "You didn't have to turn on the Empire. None of you did. You didn't have to leave. We're soldiers."

Any other time, he would've reacted with anger, but Hunter's starting to suspect that after the last month, he's too tired to be angry. Too tired to do much of anything, actually. "We're family first. If – if he saw something he knew would hurt the rest of us, he would leave, either way, to keep us safe. I know I would have. And I know you would have followed."

(He wants to feel safe and protected again, but Hunter can't remember the last time he had someone to take care of him, and it doesn't matter, anyway. It's always been him who had to stay strong for his brothers. They shouldn't have to worry about him. He shouldn't want it so much.)

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