The journey from the Ryloth system to Pabu was incredibly awkward.
Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair were seated in the cockpit, the former snoring loudly as he slept in the co-pilot's chair. That left Hunter and Crosshair to watch the blue streaks of hyperspace in silence.
Hunter didn't know what he could say. There were too many swirling emotions inside his head to consider addressing the obvious tension between him and his former squad member.
If Omega was here, she'd probably force them to talk to each other, but she'd retired to the gunner's nest some time ago; the exhaustion of running from Mount Tantiss making itself known.
The console beeped, an incoming message. Hunter checked it and replied, sitting back in his chair with a grunt when he was done.
"Echo's going to meet us on Pabu," he said, informing Crosshair whose eyes were burning into the back of his skull.
"What's on Pabu?" The sniper asked, gravelly.
There was something wrong with the clone, though Hunter hadn't dug around to find out exactly what. He figured it was just a side effect of all the months under the Empire's control, followed by his imprisonment.
Whatever it was, Hunter didn't care- so long as it didn't make Crosshair a threat to the others.
"A beach," Hunter answered plainly, "And good people."
The sniper snorted.
Hunter turned his head, raising an eyebrow, "Problem?"
Crosshair returned his glare, though his slouched posture in the jump seat was less than intimidating.
"Didn't realise we were going on holiday."
"It's somewhere safe," Hunter hissed back, "We were trained to withstand imprisonment, she was not."
The effects of months in a cell hadn't made themselves apparent yet, but Omega had only been back for a number of hours. It was too soon to tell.
"She was fine," Crosshair all but growled, "She was hardly a prisoner; they let her walk anywhere she wanted."
"It's not about where they kept her," Hunter said, "It's about how they treated her."
Crosshair turned his head away, his jaw grinding like it used to in the war. It was where he developed the habit of chewing toothpicks.
There was a time when Hunter used to carry a pack of toothpicks on his belt in case Crosshair ever ran out. He probably still had dusty toothpicks in the bottom of his kit bag.
Hunter looked at the viewpoint, the short conversation over.
He couldn't wait until they made it to Pabu. Just another day of being in an enclosed space with Crosshair might make him go crazy.
There was so much he wanted to say, and so little at the same time. It was a social minefield.
The sound of the cockpit door opening pulled Hunter from his thoughts. He hadn't expected Omega to return to the cockpit so quickly.
Hunter waited for the girl to speak first, though he was somewhat surprised when she appeared at his side, a particularly sheepish look on her face.
"You alright?" Hunter asked, very aware of Crosshair scrutinising their interaction.
Omega seemed to be aware as well, and she practically squirmed on the spot.
He was about to question her further when the girl leaned forward, putting her lips near his ear with her hand cupped around her mouth.
"Can I speak to you?" She whispered, her voice sounding unsure. "In private?"
Hunter grunted, standing up from his chair. He ignored Crosshair's stare as he put a hand on the girl's shoulder and walked them out of the cockpit.
Internally, he asked himself what Omega needed to speak to him about.
He prayed it wasn't some sort of 'female' issue. Tech had been the one to handle all of Omega's questions and supply runs, and Hunter was definitely not as knowledgeable in that area as his deceased brother.
If it was something like that, Omega would have no choice but to wait until they reached Pabu. Hunter had no idea where Tech had hidden the small tin of feminine supplies.
He waited until the cockpit door had closed with a soft click before crouching down and giving Omega his full attention.
She was clearly nervous about something, based on her rigid posture and avoidance of eye contact.
"What's up?" He prompted her gently, a disguise to the chaos as his mind fought to figure out the problem.
"M-My hair," the girl began, her hand reaching up to tug at the locks that framed her face, "it's really knotted."
It should've made sense of that being the reason why she sought him out, as he was the only other person on the ship with hair, but Hunter couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't that simple.
Still, she'd implied that she needed his help.
"You need a hand?" He asked.
Omega nodded.
"Okay," Hunter stood up straight, "Get your brush."
She went to fetch the item as he pulled a storage box to the centre of the room. It was the right height for her to sit on whilst he brushed her hair, preventing him from getting a bad back or forcing her to sit on the floor.
Omega came back, clutching her brush in her hand. It was one of the first possessions she got once she became part of the squad.
Wrecker found it on Ord Mantell and traded it by offering to push the vendor's cart to the other side of town, saving the seller a hefty sum of credits that it would've cost to have the cart manually transported.
Hunter took the brush and gave her the chance to get settled on the crate. He might've felt inclined to lift her but forced himself to allow her the autonomy. Hell knows, that had been stripped from her for months.
"You ready?"
"Yeah," Omega rolled out her back and sat up straight, "Just… get it over and done with."
Hunter nodded, even though she was facing away from him and brought the brush through her hair for the first time.
He shouldn't have been so shocked by the amount that her hair had grown since she was first taken, but yet he found himself marvelling at the length. The texture had changed as well, no longer wispy and it held more of a curl than it used to.
Ideally, it needed a wash. There were small twigs and leaves scattered through the locks as a consequence of escaping Mount Tantiss, combined with the sweat and grime of travelling through a number of systems to get back to them.
Hunter somewhat blamed Crosshair. He knew they had to move fast to avoid being re-captured, but it wouldn't have killed them to find a hotel for the girl to at least shower and change her clothes, even if they didn't stay there overnight.
He tried to release some of the built-up tension from being reunited with his former squad member by focusing on de-tangling Omega's hair, until something jerked the brush to a halt.
At the same time, Omega let out a subdued hiss.
Pain.
Hunter withdrew the brush and placed it aside. He knew it wasn't best to just keep running the brush through her hair without identifying what had gotten in its path.
"Tip your head forward," he murmured, waiting for her to do so before he reached for her hair.
He lifted most of her hair up, revealing the nape of her neck. Just where her hairline was supposed to be was a mat the size of his fist.
Hunter barely managed to hold back a curse.
Tech had always drilled into him that there was a responsibility that came with growing his hair longer than the standard clone cut. He was supposed to use conditioner every time he washed it, and ensure it was brushed through twice a day at the bare minimum.
Hunter had somewhat enforced the same rules to Omega when she first joined them. He didn't think it was out of fear of her hair becoming matted, more so he just wanted her to feel confident in managing her hair and not letting it overwhelm her.
But she had been gone for months.
And now her hair was knotted so badly that a brush alone would not be enough.
Hunter pushed his anger down, imagining it being stuffed into a box with the lid secured on the top.
This wasn't Omega's fault.
This was fixable.
He could fix this.
"You've got a mat here," he said, using a neutral tone, "Hang on, let me grab some things to get it out."
He left before she could reply, though he didn't miss how her shoulders hunched up to her ears. The poor kid was embarrassed.
It didn't take long for Hunter to pull a few items together. Though he'd never got a mat himself, he knew the basics of getting one out.
He found his own brush, which he wouldn't feel so bad about potentially never being able to use again compared to using Omega's one. He also pulled out a wide-toothed comb that used to belong to Tech.
After some ruffling through boxes, he found an empty spray bottle that he filled with lukewarm water from the fresher tap. For good measure, he also found the small bottle of jojoba oil that Echo had gifted the girl to use on her hair.
Apparently, it had belonged to Echo's late brother, Fives, and Rex had given it to Echo so he had something to remind him of his batchmate. Despite being bald, Echo appreciated the gesture, and opted to donate the oil to Omega so it could at least be put to good use.
Hunter would've got his conditioner as well, but he was waiting to buy more once they returned to Pabu. Finding a clean towel to complete his armful of supplies, Hunter returned to the hull, not before popping his head inside the cockpit.
Crosshair was still awake, now staring out the viewpoint. Wrecker was thankfully still asleep. He couldn't imagine how his brother might react to finding out about Omega's predicament.
"We're in the hull," Hunter told Crosshair, "Don't interrupt unless it's an emergency."
Crosshair's lip curled in response, though he didn't give a verbal response.
Hunter didn't care. The sniper wasn't his priority right now.
He returned to Omega with his arms laden with supplies. Hunter began setting them aside, laying out the brush and comb and then putting the towel around her shoulders.
Once they got to Pabu, he would get her some new clothes. Whatever they had left on the Marauder probably wouldn't fit her now, given she'd grown so much in the time that she was separated from then.
"I'm just going to wet your hair," Hunter said, using a bobby pin from his belt to secure the rest of her hair out of the way.
He sprayed the mat with the water, ensuring it was fully damp but not dripping wet. Then, with the same verbal warning, he applied a generous amount of oil to the mat, using his fingers to work it right to the middle.
Although he was focused on the task, he noted Omega's silence. She was practically curled in on herself, and even her breaths were shallow.
Before he started to work through the ends of her hair with the comb, Hunter addressed her.
"Did you know that it had got matted?" He asked, non-judgemental and kind.
Omega's nod was barely noticeable.
"Okay." Hunter regulated himself, trying not to imagine how the girl must've felt when she realised what had happened to her hair. The shame was probably suffocating. "Thank you for asking me for help."
He wasn't sure if she was going to respond, so it startled him when she whispered.
"Thank you for not being angry."
He was surprised to hear that she expected him to be mad. It wasn't as if any of this was her fault. If anything, it was his fault for letting her be taken in the first place.
"I'm not angry at you." He told her sincerely, picking up the comb, "But I am upset with the people who took you."
Upset was an understatement.
But Omega didn't need to hear him vent about how much he wanted to rip Hemlock's head off his shoulders right now. She needed him to be the same man he had always been.
She needed him to be her friend, guardian, and brother all rolled into one.
Hunter began to work the knots out of the ends of the mat. The oil had done its job, allowing him to loosen the strands of hair rather than relentlessly having to tug at them.
He moved quickly yet carefully, not wishing to bestow too much discomfort or pain on the child who had already been through so much.
The comb did most of the work, though he occasionally swapped it out for the brush or just his fingers. It was easiest to work with one small section of hair at a time, and though it tested his patience, Hunter persisted.
He had only managed to untangle less than a quarter of the mat when he reached an incredibly stubborn knot. Even after applying more water and oil, it was tangled so tight that even the comb couldn't break through.
Omega hissed suddenly, her shoulders jerking up in response to pain. Hunter released the pressure on the comb as he was trying to pick apart the knot, choosing to rest a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently.
"I'm sorry," he apologised, hating how he saw her lift her hand to her face to wipe away a stray tear. "Shall we take a break?"
"No," she said, sounding frustrated and tired. He couldn't ignore the hurt in her voice even if he wanted to. "Keep going."
"Are you sure?" He asked, giving her a moment to reconsider.
She nodded frantically, "I just want it done."
"Okay," squeezing her shoulder one last time, Hunter attempted to tame the tight knot yet again.
By alternating between brushing, combing, and using his fingers, the knot eventually came loose. Hunter audibly sighed with relief when he was able to run his fingers through the damp strands of hair, now free from the mat.
As he worked on the rest of the mat, Hunter noticed more and more hair falling to the floor. As much as it was to be expected, given the mat was made of both attached and detached hairs, he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty.
Anyone else might have shaved off the mat in the first place to save themselves the trouble, but Hunter wouldn't have even made that suggestion to Omega.
If anyone were to shave his own head, Hunter would have them in a chokehold faster than they could switch the clippers on.
"Almost done," Hunter said, his back smarting from standing over the girl for so long.
He estimated he'd been working on her hair for almost two hours, and he was somewhat surprised that she hadn't fallen asleep. The majority of the mat was out now, there were only a few smaller knots that he needed to deal with.
"I'm sorry," Omega said, the first time she'd spoken in hours, "I tried to keep it brushed."
"Omega, this isn't your fault." Hunter said, shaking his head even though she was facing away from him. He sighed, "Did they let you take a shower?"
"I just had a wash basin." She admitted.
"Did you have access to a brush?"
She shook her head.
Hunter had to refrain from snapping the comb between his fingers as he finished untangling yet another section of hair.
"Then it's not your fault." He reminded her more firmly, "You're a child, Omega. I know you were their prisoner, but even the Seps made sure prisoners of war could perform basic personal hygiene. Hemlock's staff had no excuse."
She went quiet again, mulling over his words.
Hunter's mind worked at the same pace as his hands. He'd dealt with the mat at the nape of her neck, but there were other concerns regarding the girl that he would need to address at some point.
He had noticed earlier that her nails were down to the nubs of her fingertips. They must've been chewed and picked apart from her anxiety, a trait that she'd had all the time he knew her.
Besides that, there was the issue of her teeth.
If the Empire hadn't bothered to give the girl a hairbrush, then he doubted they would've provided her with toothpaste either.
A dentist of Pabu had offered their services to the squad at a fraction of the usual cost. Hunter had never forced Omega to be examined, understanding that her trauma from Kamino meant that such an appointment would cause her immense distress.
Besides, the girl habitually brushed her teeth twice a day, and he didn't allow her to eat too much sugar on a regular basis.
But maybe Hunter would have to make the appointment anyway. He would never forgive himself if he let a problem go unnoticed and cause Omega more pain and discomfort in the long run.
"There," Hunter removed the bobby pin and brushed through all of her hair, relieved to find it completely untangled and knot-free. "All done. You were a good sport."
"Thank you, Hunter," the girl reached over her shoulder to run her fingers through her hair. He imagined she felt as much relief as he did. "That feels so much better."
He smiled, putting the brush and comb aside, "I can always give you a trim later, if you don't like how long it's got. Or you can wait until we get to Pabu, have someone properly trained-"
He paused on noticing the sudden tension in Omega's shoulders. Her hand fell back to her lap, her head lowered.
"You don't have to get it cut," he added quickly, "It's up to you."
He should've seen that response coming.
Regardless of her gender and upbringing, Omega was a clone. Hair was something of a personal choice, and it was frowned upon to judge others for what they decided to do with theirs, whether that meant a buzz cut or growing it out.
Hunter stepped around the crate to kneel in front of the girl. He put his hands on her shoulders and waited until she lifted her head.
"You don't have to do anything with your hair that you don't want to," he told her sternly, "It's yours, not anyone else's."
The girl stared at him before she replied, "Nala Se said it needed to be kept short. She said it saved her from needing to brush it all the time, and it didn't get tangled up during any experiments."
That made sense. The Kaminoans were efficient in everything they did. Any clones being treated by them were forced to have their hair shaved off to prevent it from getting in the way. It was partially the reason why Hunter had chosen to grow his hair out as well.
"Thank you," Omega said quietly, "For not just shaving it off."
"I wouldn't have dared," he stood up, hesitating only to kiss her forehead. "Now, we've got a long time to spend in hyperspace. I suggest you hit the fresher. Once you're done, brush through your hair again. If you need help, let me know."
"Okay," Omega hopped off the crate, still holding onto the towel that was wrapped around her shoulders. "I'm still pretty tired, but maybe tomorrow we can do something fun?"
He snorted, "There's nothing fun to do in hyperspace, kid."
Omega pouted, "When we get to Pabu, then? Will you take me out on the boat?"
"Sure," he patted her head, glad that she was back where she belonged. "No getting seasick this time though."
The girl's eyebrows flattened into a straight line, "That was one time."
Hunter shrugged, "One time, and yet the stain has never come out of my shirt."
Omega rolled her eyes at him, and Hunter had never been so happy to see her old personality peeping through the shell that she had fortified around herself.
They were all going to be okay. He would make sure of it.