Chapter 1 - If You Feel Like Night Is Falling

Author's Note: Most of this fic is from Crosshair's POV. :) Enjoy all the angst and drama of the boys trying to heal and get used to one another again! :D

~ Amina Gila

The room is dark. It's always dark. He's hardly seen bright in – in a long, long time. He's lying on something hard but familiar. Very familiar. The scent is familiar, too.

Consciousness fades in painfully slowly, but he doesn't hurt anywhere anymore. The ceaseless exhaustion is still there, of course, and –

Oh.

Oh, right, he'd finally gotten out. He remembers seeing Hunter's face, feeling Wrecker carry him before he passed out. He's with his brothers now. He's safe here.

Crosshair blinks himself to wakefulness, pulling his eyes open. The lighting is dim, blue and white swirls lighting the back from the windows in the gunner's mount. All the lights are off, thankfully. They remembered that. It's been so long, he thought they'd… forget, which is stupid. They grew up together. He still remembers everything about them, but they – they aren't the ones who got left behind.

Hunter's sitting beside him. He jolts when he sees – or feels, or however that works for him – Crosshair waking, shifting closer and reaching to lay his hand on Crosshair's shoulder. His armor's off again. Tech must've taken it off to scan him or whatever he did. He doesn't remember, but it doesn't matter.

"You missed me?" Crosshair asks, though he has no idea why that's the first thing that slips out.

Hunter makes a quiet, choked noise. His eyes are red. Was he crying? Something sharply uncomfortable cuts through Crosshair's chest. "Hey," he whispers. He touches Crosshair's forehead, hand light and warm and lingering.

Crosshair can't remember the last time someone touched him, unless it was fleeting, or they were going to hurt him. It's been – it's been forever.

Crosshair shifts, trying to prop himself up. Hunter leans forwards to steady him, guiding him upright. It's weird. He doesn't need help, but he doesn't shake it off, because it's been so long since he's had someone touch him. Hunter's arm slips around his shoulders, pulling Crosshair tightly against his chest. Hunter's still in his armor and all, but Crosshair relaxes into him, reaching out to wrap his arms around his waist and clings.

He knows he's being childish, that he's – how old is he? Is he nine or ten now? It feels like it's been forever, but Crosshair has no idea. He's not four though, so he shouldn't be so clingy.

"I'm sorry," Hunter whispers into his hair, "We thought you were gone."

His voice breaks and Crosshair pretends he can't hear that or the shaky inhale – he's definitely crying, and he doesn't want to think about that at all. Hunter doesn't cry. About anything. He's strong – he's not like Crosshair who cries at anything. (He's going to ignore the little voice in his mind wondering if Hunter just hides it better.)

"And you just left?" Crosshair has to ask him, because even if – if he's not exactly angry at them, he can't deny the hurt that's been festering under his skin ever since he first woke up alone. They left him. They don't leave, and it's not until now that he realizes he never thought about why they left. They didn't just ditch him because he was too annoying or too much of a burden or not effective enough or because there was something wrong with him.

They thought he was dead.

Just like the regs did to Echo.

He feels sick. Both with himself, and with what they're living. This shouldn't've happened.

He can't think about how they would have felt to believe him dead. It might've been nigh impossible to deal with the others' loss alone, but at least he knew they were still alive. He had hope they'd come back, that they'd find him, and he wondered if they'd tried, and somehow failed. They didn't even try, though, because they thought…

"Oh, I don't blame you. I would've left him for dead, too."

They didn't even go back to get his body to give him a funeral if he really was dead.

Hunter's crying.

He doesn't know which hurts worse.

"I'm sorry," Hunter says again, shakily, "I thought – it was so fast, and we were being overwhelmed, and we had to fall back. I'm sorry, I know we should've gone back. I thought…"

How didn't you feel it, Crosshair wants to ask, but he doesn't really know how Hunter's senses work, and it's happened many times over that fighting can overstimulate him bad enough that he can't tell what's up and what's down. It happened when he was little, anyway.

They thought he was dead.

Crosshair had thought they didn't come back, because – because they didn't, and he'd convinced himself of that, because it was easier, because it didn't hurt as much. He feels so stupid about it now. He's been gone so long, he doesn't know how to talk to Hunter anymore, and maybe he was wrong about thinking he didn't forget them at all.

He did.

He forgot all of it.

"Me too," he confesses at last, because Crosshair can't express any of what he's feeling in words right now. He thinks he's forgotten how to. After all the times he's been hit or beaten for trying to talk when he shouldn't have recently, that's not overly surprising.

Hunter sits down next to him, arm still around his waist and pressing him close to his side.

"Where're the others?" Crosshair asks, his head on Hunter's shoulder.

"Waiting," Hunter answers, "We… didn't want to overwhelm you. It's been…" He trails off, not finishing, and Crosshair doesn't pressure. He's felt so empty ever since his capture, and he can't imagine how they felt without him. "Things have changed," Hunter supplies finally.

Crosshair looks upfront, immediately spotting Wrecker and Tech. It feels instinctive to ask if he can talk to them, because he's so, so used to that now. He doesn't get to make his own choices, and he hasn't in so long that he doesn't remember how to. He's free now, though. He's with his brothers. He – he can go talk to them if he wants to.

He shifts a little, pushing himself up, though he feels instantly cold without Hunter's warmth at his side. Hunter stands, too, steadying him. His head spins a little, and he can feel what must be another migraine setting in.

It's strange how something about the Marauder feels emptier now.

Wrecker is the first to see him, instantly enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug. Crosshair sinks into his warmth, pressing his forehead into his neck. Wrecker pulls him back, lightly touching his face. "'m sorry," he says, and Crosshair nods against his touch, throat dry. He squeezes Wrecker's wrist and turns to Tech.

This is one of the first times he remembers Tech actually watching him – he doesn't usually look at people. It makes him uncomfortable or something. Tech's embrace is fleeting, but there, and Echo steps up to clasp his shoulder, though that's gone even faster.

"It's good to have you back," Echo says, and his eyes are warm despite his familiar rigidness. Of all of them, he's the only one familiar. The other three look as broken as Crosshair himself feels. Echo is – he's the same, and Crosshair really wants to hug him, too, except Echo doesn't initiate it, and Crosshair doesn't feel comfortable asking for it.

He thought by now, Echo would be… more used to their dynamic. (No one ever liked them for it. The regs would always mock them, tell them their closeness would guarantee everyone killed, and right now, that feels true.) Maybe it's just Crosshair he's not familiar with.

Someone else thumps into him, a pair of very tiny arms wrapping around his waist, and he looks down.

The kid steps back, looking up at him, her dark eyes bright.

Why is there a kid here? Who is she? And why did she just hug him? Whoever she is, she's obviously happy to see him, but he has no idea why.

"Crosshair," Hunter says, tugging him back a step and coming to sort of stand between them. "This is Omega. She's a clone, like us."

Crosshair looks down at her again, staring. Her hair is blonde – like Rex – and her eyes are the same dark brown that all the clones share. She looks similar to how they did when they were younger, but her features are a little softer, more… just different.

"Hi," she says, smiling brightly.

"How'd you get her?" Crosshair asks, looking up at Hunter.

"You'd better sit down," Hunter replies, lightly nudging his shoulder towards one of the seats lining the walls.

**w**

"So, the Republic is an Empire, you're deserters, and you picked up a random kid you don't know what to do with?"

"She's not random," Hunter objects, "But – but yes. That's the gist of it."

Crosshair actually really doesn't know that he knows what he walked into. He's just… a little lost. He's still tired, too. They said they were staying on Ord Mantell, not somewhere Crosshair's ever been, because there's bounty hunters after Omega, and they don't know why, much less think they can do anything to keep her safe.

It sounds a little over dramatic to him.

They've fought off much worse than bounty hunters. He isn't going to question it, though, because this is Hunter, and he always understands their odds.

"Tech, you can stop scanning me," Crosshair grumbles. He doesn't mind them fussing over him after how long it's been, but really, he isn't used to it anymore. No one's bothered looking after him unless they thought he was… too injured to keep moving.

That's not strictly true. There – there was one. He doesn't want to think about that right now, though.

"You have sustained significant electrical injuries," Tech says, as if he didn't already know that. His brothers wouldn't, though, obviously – they weren't there with him throughout this, and Crosshair would never wish they had to go through what he did, but he just – he wishes he wasn't so alone.

"I'll be fine," Crosshair replies a bit briskly. He wants to sleep right now, but that seems selfish. He's been away so long. He ought to be spending time with them. They thought they'd never get to see him again, and they need to make up for what they lost.

"Eventually," Tech agrees pointedly. He steps back though, typing something on his datapad. Crosshair settles back in his seat, crossing his arms. He doesn't really know what to say or… where to start.

"What happened to ya?" Wrecker queries, "We thought…"

"I know," Crosshair replies, and that's still something he's struggling comprehending. At least he always knew they were alive, no matter how hard it was to be on his own. He should tell them about it, and he knows that, but he doesn't want to. He doesn't even know where to start. So many things have changed.

He met a reg that… that he didn't hate. Actually liked. It was so weird. Well, he liked Cody, and Cut, and even Rex, but still, Crosshair somehow didn't think it possible. He doesn't want to think about Mayday, either, because he's – he's gone. He was lost in their escape, and he was a friend, and the only person he had with him when he was trapped there, alone. It was never anything… even a little bit similar to his brothers, because he was just a friend, but Crosshair still cared about him.

He thought they could make it out together, and for some reason, he doesn't want to explain how he had a friend his brothers never knew, and will never know.

It took him so long to escape. He'd counted on them coming first for a while, and he just… time passed. There was so little he could do, and planning an escape was nigh impossible. He made it out, but… He wasn't supposed to be the only one who did.

It's – it's not worth thinking about.

"I was captured," he says finally, dully. "It took a while to get out." I thought you were coming, he wants to say, but holds it back, because it means nothing. It won't change it.

"You don't have to talk about it," Hunter says for the others, throwing a glance at Wrecker, "It's just that – you've been gone so long, and…"

He gets that. Doesn't mean he feels ready to try explaining, though.

"Is… there anything you need?" Hunter asks eventually, "Or would you rather lay back down? It's… late."

He feels like he could sleep for a week, actually, but that feels… lazy. Like there's actually things to be doing, but he glances at Omega, and she looks tired, too. Hunter and Wrecker and even Tech look like they're drowning in the same bone-deep exhaustion that Crosshair himself is. Maybe that's not such a bad idea.

Crosshair nods to him, and Hunter looks to Omega. "Alright," he says, "Bedtime. I'll take first shift."

Crosshair waits a few minutes until Omega moves to the gunner's mount in the back, climbing the ladder and laying down on the floor next to Lula – he shouldn't feel as ridiculously relieved as he does to see it again. He's missed Wrecker's messes and toys and insane collections no matter how frustrating they were.

"Anything I need to know about the kid?" Crosshair asks Hunter – Wrecker's somewhat shifted off to the back, and Tech is fully occupied with his datapad.

Hunter looks at him, expression slightly thoughtful, but mostly just tired. How can he look so tired? "She's terrifying," Hunter says with complete and absolute seriousness.

Crosshair laughs. He can't help it. Omega's tiny, and she's adorable, okay? She's so small. He doesn't think she could hurt anything even if she tried. And this is Hunter. He's never scared. Of anything.

Hunter flushes a little, looking visibly awkward. "It's true," he mutters with a sigh, "She's untrained. She – she's not a soldier. She's a kid. This isn't a life for her."

"What do you want to do about it?" Crosshair asks him, because he thinks that's… probably something Hunter would know? Maybe? He has no idea – this entire situation is so foreign and awkward to him, and it admittedly makes him feel much better to know the others aren't fully comfortable with Omega's presence, either. He doesn't know how he'd feel if his brothers got another full-fledged squad member without him. Like, he'd get it, but it'd still be weird, and it would still hurt.

"I don't know," Hunter confesses, "There's bounty hunters after her, and I don't know of anyone who could keep her safe, but… she's not safe with us, either."

"Why not?" he asks, automatically, because the question confuses him a little. They've fought droids. They've fought… all kinds of things before, and bounty hunters aren't much of a step up.

"Things… have changed, Crosshair. We've changed. We couldn't…" Whatever it is Hunter was about to say, he cuts himself off, but Crosshair's fairly certain there was a protect you in there, which – there should've been. He still feels bad about it, though. "She attracts trouble," Hunter continues, "Try to keep a close eye on her. We try to keep her from wandering, but… she's curious, and there's a lot of things out there none of us know."

"I've never… had to babysit someone before," Crosshair grumbles. Tries not to think of how many times he complained about babysitting Wrecker. He'd do anything to get that again. Literally.

"We have to protect her for as long as she's here," Hunter replies, "I – I know it's not easy, but for now… I don't know what else to do."

He's admitting uncertainty. That's not something Hunter ever does. He doesn't – do that. He's their leader. He isn't supposed to let them doubt him. Crosshair doesn't know how to feel about that, either. Probably, Hunter's just overthinking this as he does everything. Yeah, that must be it.

**w**

Crosshair tries to sleep but he can't quite manage it. He's too restless and wound up, which seems so stupid when he's injured and exhausted. He ought to sleep. He needs to sleep. He just… can't. He's not used to sleeping in a place like this, where it's calm and quiet and safe. He's used to sleeping under tension, Mayday's back to his since it was the only way either of them could relax enough to drift off. He's used to collapsing from exhaustion, being roused with yelling or a kick or an electroprod.

He rolls over on the rack, but it doesn't help. It's too quiet, too soft – which is also stupid since the racks on the Marauder can hardly be considered soft, but he's grown accustomed to the chilly, cracked, unpadded duracrete.

There's shifting from above him, and he turns to see Wrecker poking his head down from the rack above. "Can't sleep?" he asks in a Wrecker-whisper.

Crosshair winces. It's not loud, but it feels like a shout, and it feels like admitting to weakness. But the 'I'm fine' that he wanted to snap gets caught in his throat, and he doesn't answer.

"C'mere then," says Wrecker, and Crosshair doesn't even hesitate to climb up into Wrecker's rack and bury against him, no matter that there's not room for two, not with someone of Wrecker's size. But they used to do this before, and if anything can make his mind stop running so fast and shut down, this will.

Wrecker is warm, and his arms are tight around Crosshair, not letting him. He feels… safe. Or protected, at least, and it's somehow enough for him to finally drift off.

He doesn't know what it is that wakes him, but Wrecker is still fast asleep, his breathing deep and even, and he doesn't even twitch when Crosshair moves slightly. The Marauder is dark, but Crosshair can still see well enough. There's a quiet shuffling of movement, and he sees Tech enter, pausing to glance up at him and Wrecker before picking up his datapad. He'd turned it off and set it with the rest of his things earlier. His movements are a bit jerky, and it's quiet enough that Crosshair can hear the way he's breathing faster than normal.

Nightmare? Probably, if he had to guess, and he hesitates for a long moment, not sure what to do. Ideally, if Wrecker wasn't cuddling him like a replacement Lula, he'd go to him, talk to him, but he doesn't want to wake Wrecker, and he doesn't have the leverage to pull away from him, either.

Soft footsteps break through his dilemma, and he glances at the doorway to see Hunter entering. "I heard you get up," he says quietly, softly enough that Crosshair almost has to strain to hear. "Nightmare?"

"Yes," comes the equally subdued answer. It surprises him, though he doesn't know why. Maybe because of all of them, Tech was the least prone to having nightmares, much less talking about the ones he did have. "I can switch with you if you want to get some rest."

Hunter hesitates and shakes his head. "Don't think I can sleep."

"I do not either," Tech admits, and Hunter reaches out, clasping his shoulder.

"Hey," he murmurs, "We're okay."

"I am aware," Tech replies, "Or at least we will be, but the processing of traumatic memories still takes a toll."

"Tech –" Hunter stops, sighs, and his hand slides to the back of Tech's neck, before he leans closer to press their foreheads together. Tech not only doesn't pull away, but also, wraps an arm loosely around Hunter, touching his back. "We're gonna figure this out," he promises. "We will. And it will get better."

"Eventually," Tech agrees dryly, finally pulling back. "Let me sit with you."

Hunter sighs again. "Yeah, okay, sure."

They head to the cockpit together, and Crosshair blows out a quiet breath. He doesn't know why he feels so… conflicted. Jealous? Lonely? Something. But he doesn't like it. He doesn't like seeing how much they've changed. He doesn't – he's glad that they've had each other, but he hates seeing how they're so much closer than they used to be. The Tech he knew wouldn't… snuggle. He was always very touchy about touch – heh, no pun intended. He was alright with it, as long as it wasn't prolonged or too intimate, but that – that was… both. And he didn't mind it.

It makes Crosshair angry, though he doesn't know why. It makes him want. He wants to be a part of them again. He wants to feel close to them, all of them. He wants – too much. Doesn't know how to get there, doesn't even know how to put it into words. Hunter and Tech were always close in their own way, but it was never like that, never so close. It makes him wonder, a sick, dark feeling twisting inside of him, if Wrecker is like that with Tech, too, now, if Hunter and Wrecker have a bond that Crosshair isn't part of. They're his brothers. He loves them, and he knows they love him, but they – so much has happened, and he's been gone for so long, and he doesn't – he doesn't know how to fit himself back in, doesn't know where his broken pieces are supposed to fit with his brothers'.

It's been so, so long since he got to be close to anyone, and Mayday doesn't count, since that was by necessity. They bonded because of their circumstances, relied on each other to stay alive, but it was different. It wasn't like this. It wasn't like it is with his brothers. It wasn't the same gnawing need to be in the same room, to be close, to be together. He hasn't felt that sense of belonging since before the mission, since before he was separated from him, (since before they left him).

Mayday was just a friend. His brothers are part of him. And Crosshair wants to feel that bond again, that closeness, but he doesn't know how, doesn't – anything, really.

It's stupid to feel alone when Wrecker is right here, but he does. He does, and he aches with it, and it hurts, and –

Something is wrong with him. About him. He always knew it, felt it, but now… it only feels that much more obvious. He ought to be happy to be back with his brothers again, but instead…

Crosshair closes his eyes, presses his face against Wrecker's neck, and chooses to pretend that he maybe might not be crying.

**w**

He hates holding still now. Once, Crosshair used to be really good at it. Had to be, to be a sniper, but now, he can't stand it. It grates on him. He's still injured, still healing, and he knows he needs to rest, but he can't. He can't stay still. He has to do something.

("Make yourself useful, clone, or I might as well just space you now. A waste of resources.")

He's not broken, and he doesn't want to be treated like it. He was – well, what he went through was hard, but he's still him. He can still be useful. He can do things. He doesn't want to sit still to "heal". Can't do that. It's never mattered before, anyway, not after – yeah. They never let him sit still, even if he'd just been beaten for backtalking or stealing food or just, y'know, trying to sleep.

After complaining about staying still on the Marauder for an entire rotation, Hunter finally agrees to take him to someplace called 'Cid's parlor'. Which turns out to be the base of operations of a Trandoshan black market dealer who helped the Batch find out more about the bounty hunter after Omega. Crosshair immediately dislikes her when he sees her. Probably has more to do with her species – there was a Trandoshan in charge of them, and he was awful – than anything else, but he doesn't much care for the muttered comments about taking in more stray clones when she sees him, either.

She seems to like Omega, though, which is a point in her favor. Who couldn't like Omega? He doesn't know her, yet, but he likes her. She stayed close with him after he woke up, offered to help, or keep him company. She's sensitive of his feelings in a way that only his brothers are because they grew up together. He likes her. He definitely likes her, it's just…

Having her there is weird. He's never interacted with children before, doesn't really know how he and his brothers are expected to take care of her. She's a kid. Hunter isn't wrong that she's probably not safe with them, but not because of the bounty hunters after them. They've never raised a kid. She can't possibly want to live with him, but she does. And if it was up to Crosshair, she'd stay, because it might be… different, but she wants them, and no one wants them. No one ever wanted them until Echo, and why would they turn down Omega if she wants to stay? But it's Hunter's decision, and he knows what he's talking about. Crosshair trusts him.

It's also weird to have her there because she's younger than him. Crosshair has always been the youngest, and he doesn't know what it'll be like to have a new youngest. He doesn't know if it'll change things, if… He doesn't want things to be different, even if he knows how unrealistic that is. He just wants things to be normal again.

Omega tries practicing with her bow while they're at Cid's parlor, and seeing how bad she is at it is making Crosshair's eyes hurt. "Lemme give you some pointers, kid," he says, moving to stand near her because the way the others keep looking at him is beginning to grate on him. He understands why they're afraid he'll disappear, and he doesn't mind that because he's doing the same thing. What's annoying him is the way they look ready to fall over themselves to even help him walk, as if he might shatter if something pokes him wrong.

Ugh. He's not helpless. He's not glass. He won't break if something hits him.

Omega lights up, and Crosshair busies himself with helping her. At least like this he's doing something. Being useful.

He instructs her on how to adjust her position, reaching out to shift her accordingly when she doesn't quite get it. She has no idea how to use a weapon, and he doubts she has the necessary strength yet to be effective with her bow, but practice is what will make her better. Maybe she'll need some other type of combat training to build up her strength, too.

She's fired a handful of times, but only hit the target twice. Not good enough. If – Crosshair wasn't an expert marksman at the beginning, either, but he trained and trained, and his trainer would yell at him when he messed up. He's not quite sure how he's supposed to train the kid, but he's pretty sure it shouldn't be like that. He'd never hit her. And he's never trained anyone before, or had any other example, and trying to channel the way Hunter treated them is only moderately effective. Hunter didn't train them. He led them. It was different.

Omega's next shot goes wild, landing on the other side of the room near the door – somehow – eliciting a startled scream from someone who was just entering and who immediately makes a hasty retreat. "Sorry!" Omega squeaks, wide-eyed.

Crosshair presses his lips together, so he doesn't laugh. He doesn't think laughing at her would be helpful either. "You gotta stay steady," he says again, touching her shoulder and right arm. "Keep your arms level and your eyes on the target."

In the background, the two people who Crosshair can't figure out whether they work for Cid or are just her friends cheer Omega on, throwing in commentary that he's not even listening to. But it seems to be bothering her. She needs to learn to ignore distractions. Badly. She tries to keep steady as she aims and fires, hitting the edge of the target.

Crosshair gives her a small smile. "Good. Again."

She lowers her bow with a scowl. "But I've already hit the target three times!"

"Of twelve," he answers, pointing at the target. "You don't get to stop. If you can't be consistent, you'll end up dead if you get cornered alone."

She sighs loudly, but she doesn't argue, lifting the bow again. The other two cackle from behind her as she aims, and the shot goes wild again. "I was doing better until those two showed up!" she complains.

He doesn't mean to snap at her; it just happens. "If you let people distract you, you end up dead, Omega." If he'd let himself be distracted by the missile that was coming toward him, he wouldn't have managed to throw himself out of the way and behind the boulder that shielded him from of the brunt of the explosion, even if he was still injured and knocked unconscious. If he had let himself be distracted by the beatings the other… prisoners received, he'd have suffered the same fate.

"It takes practice," Echo says, stepping in.

Crosshair plucks the bow from Omega's hands to demonstrate for her. It feels strange to have a weapon in his hands, but aiming and firing is second nature for him. He doesn't even hear the cheering of the duo behind him. He hits the target dead-center three times without hesitation. "We'll have to work on your strength," he tells her, handing the bow back. "Now, go again."

Omega looks sullen but lifts the bow.

"Playtime's over!" Cid yells at them as she enters the room. "You two, scram. I've got a mission for you boys."

A mission. Crosshair doesn't know how to feel about that. He hasn't been on a mission since he was captured, and he doesn't know if he wants to go, but – but he doesn't have a choice. It's like he told Omega: he doesn't get to stop. That's not a choice he has. It's not a choice he's ever had.

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