Say You Want Me
He is not ready for this. Not ready for this notreadyforthisnotready notreadynot –
Hunter looks the same.
Doesn't know why he expected it to be different.
He looks so much smaller sitting in his cell.
"I figured you'd show up," he says, straightening. Expression neutral. He's scared, though.
Crosshair is scared. He's terrified .
Nothing could ever really prepare him to see his brothers again. Even if it's the only thing he wants or cares about or breathes for. He wants to be wrapped in Hunter's arms again, wants to hear Tech rambling and Echo's clanky broodiness and Wrecker's chaos and sugar feasts.
He wants to beg Hunter to hold him. To take him home.
He won't .
He won't because he's too afraid to, of being rejected again and being hurt again. Hunter hurt him , and Crosshair can't forget that.
He left him. They abandoned him on Kamino, even though he tried so hard to get them to – to stay. They all left him and Crosshair doesn't know why .
They hurt him.
He remembers Bracca vividly. He couldn't ever stop . He remembers the pain. Remembers the light. Remembers falling, distantly hearing the snap as his arm broke, and mostly, he remembers the searing heat as the engine ran.
They did that to him. They left him there. They hurt him.
Hunter hurt him.
Hunter.
Hunter, who's here now, not of his own choice, because he never came back of his own choice . He could have come home. All Crosshair wanted was for him to come home , but he never did.
Hunter, who he would have killed for. Anything to make him come back .
Hunter, who was captured, and Crosshair has no idea how .
"How does it feel to be left behind?" he snips.
Hunter's eyes narrow. "What are you here for, Crosshair?"
He pulls his helmet off, deactivating the ray shield. Half expects it to explode in his face, but nothing violent happens. Well, Wrecker's not inside, so of course not. He'd probably have punch-hotwired his way out already. Hunter's not that stupid though.
His heart is still pounding. He shouldn't be this scared.
"I was hoping for the whole squad."
"They're already gone." He's so good at keeping his face blank, but it's not enough to fool Crosshair .
"Well," Crosshair says, "You'll be enough. Come on. Time to go." He moves forward, hand extending towards Hunter. He doesn't want to touch him, but hey, how can he not rub in the fact that he came back for Hunter when he never did the same?
Even after they hurt him. After they nearly killed him and left him and he's been alone for weeks desperately wishing he could go home , that he still had one, that he – he could – trust one. Trust them .
Hunter's jaw clenches, but he reaches up for Crosshair's hand, anyway. Crosshair yanks him upright, and the way Hunter's clinging to his hand and panting sends a spark of worry through him. His expression is tight with discomfort.
Was he hurt? How could some regs have hurt Hunter?
"Where're you taking me?" he asks, looking up.
Crosshair doesn't meet his gaze. He pulls the binders off his belt and snaps them over Hunter's wrists, who gives in without resistance. "Off-world," he answers shortly.
He's supposed to pull his blaster on him to take him everywhere. He – he can't .
Yeah, Crosshair's angry. He's furious , actually, but for as angry and hurt as he is, he could never hurt Hunter. He would never shoot him and he's not pretending he will.
"Come on," Crosshair sighs, taking Hunter's shoulder and lightly shoving him towards the door. He wants to hit him. Badly. But Hunter's pale and he's – he's a prisoner, too. Crosshair doesn't want to hurt him.
Hunter's limping. That's when Crosshair actually sees it . He's trying to move normally, but Crosshair sees the tightness in his face every time he catches sight of it, whether him or any fleeting reflection.
He's holding his right arm weirdly.
Uncomfortableness churns wildly in his gut. Hunter's hurt . Crosshair never really considered what would happen if one of them actually got hurt not under his watch. He worried about it, of course, even if he wishes he didn't, and that was a little why he wanted them back, but...
He didn't expect to get a badly injured Hunter dumped on him .
What is he supposed to do about it?
Crosshair can't look at him, but he can't stop and it's been so, so long since he's seen Hunter's face.
He's not supposed to look so pale.
Hunter pauses at the end of the shuttle's ramp.
Crosshair looks at him blankly, expecting him to... do... something , but he moves on to the ramp. He's definitely limping. His footing is overwhelmingly and decidedly unsteady, and Crosshair tries ignoring the rise in his own heart rate at seeing it.
He wants to help.
Wants to carry him, to touch him and hold him and to – fix this.
He wants to help Hunter, but what is he supposed to do ? They're being watched by nat-borns who Crosshair hates and he knows will try to out him for the slightest little misstep, and then they'll both be hurt.
Trying not to touch him is maddening. He takes Hunter to the back – his brother's still moving shakily and unsteadily, and Crosshair bites his tongue.
Tech gave him his toothpick collection just to stop hurting himself, but he's at it again. It's ridiculous.
"You can sit down," he tells Hunter, "Unless you'd prefer standing?"
He sighs, leveraging himself awkwardly to the floor, and Crosshair has to turn away so he doesn't just outright scream . He wants to.
He heads back to the cockpit.
There's some sort of stupid something-something prisoner transfer something-or-other paperwork something and he has no idea how Hunter could stand being a Sergeant. Being a Commander is maddening. Crosshair's overwhelming report-hatred has skyrocketed so badly by now, he's a millisecond short of throwing any datapad he sees at someone's face.
...
He will have to Deal With That when he finally gets to see Tech again because that is going to drive him crazy into eternity.
Hunter.
Hunter's in the back, alone, waiting.
Hunter , who was always there to take care of them until he wasn't anymore.
But no matter what he did or didn't do, no matter who he is, Crosshair still loves him still wants him he can't breathe without him stars how did he survive so long ?
He's angry. He can never stop being angry. They hurt him, and Hunter left him .
He goes to the back of the shuttle again once he's finally finished with this stupid paperwork nightmare – thanks a lot for abandoning him with this, Hunter.
Hunter straightens when he sees him. He looks scared, and he's doing his best to hide it. He's always been good at that. But he's scared. Of Crosshair .
Hunter shifts back against the wall when Crosshair crouches in front of him, borrowing his comm – Tech will come as soon as he gets the signal, no doubt. They wouldn't leave Hunter.
Even if they would leave him.
"Where are we going?" Hunter asks him evenly.
The question makes him pause. He wants to answer, but this is Hunter, and he could be asking just as well for information to plan an escape just as well as it could be a genuine question, and Crosshair isn't going to risk being alone again. He came so far. Tried so hard , and the thought of Hunter being gone clenches him in a raw, drowning panic . He can't let him go again.
"You'll find out when we get there," Crosshair answers, hooking the comm to his belt, "And so'll your squad."
"They'll know it's a trap," Hunter argues.
"They'll still come for you." He pauses lingering, overly conscious of the others still in the doorway, still watching them. Judging them. Every move he makes is – important, but that's not nearly as important as how Hunter's hurt . His face is still tight and tensed with pain. "You're injured," he says, drawing back a little. "Unless you're faking it." Which Hunter wouldn't do, but he feels the need to ask, anyway.
He'd sit down, except, you know, the part where there's only one available seat, and he doesn't think Hunter would like that very much.
...it'd probably hurt if he's limping, though.
"It's fine," Hunter mutters, drawing back. His back is pressed against the wall, and that couldn't be comfortable. He's trying to hide.
From Crosshair.
He never thought Hunter would be scared of him. Crosshair is the one who was hurt between them. He's been alone for weeks . He's the one who had to deal with that, who had to –
Looking at the empty, vacant walls of his barracks was gutting. It was so, so lonely . He remembers the searing pain of the engine exploding in his face, and they just left him there . They didn't look back.
Hunter looked back on Ryloth, and Crosshair saw a fleeting moment that Echo was sitting beside him, but he never actually tried . None of them did.
Hunter's scared of him.
"Oh, so you're pretending," Crosshair scoffs.
Hunter's eyes narrow on him. He looks hurt.
"Tell me what's wrong," Crosshair orders firmly. "I need to know if it can wait."
"I – might have dislocated my shoulder."
That explains the wrong way he's carrying it. He had time to fix it, but – Hunter's armor is shaped wrong to allow that without taking it off. All that time he's been on Daro, hours , he couldn't do – anything, because he couldn't...
He feels sick.
He wants to cry.
He wants Hunter to hug him again, to tell him everything will be fine . He wants his brothers back. He wants Wrecker. Tech . Tech always knew how to help these things. He could fix things .
"How did that happen?" Crosshair demands disbelievingly, taking Hunter's shoulder pauldron off and setting it on the floor next to them.
"Fell off a mountain."
They shift a little, and Crosshair touches his arm. Hunter doesn't pull away, but he doesn't look overly comfortable with it, either. That hurts . He just wants to come home .
Why did they leave him? Why wasn't he enough? He tried. He always tried his best for them . He always tried – to be whatever Hunter asked him to , and they just – left him .
"I'm surprised your spine's not broken in at least three places," Crosshair grumbles.
Hunter keeps glancing at him, though not quite meeting his eyes – he's watching his hands, like he expects to get stabbed at any given moment, like Crosshair would try to do that. He bites his lip again, looking away. He flinches at the snapping sound it makes when Hunter rams his shoulder into the wall, but he lets out a soft sigh of relief.
Crosshair's hand lingers on his other shoulder. He doesn't want to stop touching him. Doesn't want to pull away. He wants to hold him. to curl up in Hunter's arms and let everything else fade away . He wants to let go. Stop worrying. About everything .
"Thank you," Hunter says gratefully, looking up. There's genuine gratitude in his eyes, and Crosshair feels himself flushing a little. He moves back, looking away. He reaches for Hunter's armor again, sliding it back on.
"Anything else?" Crosshair asks him again.
Hunter shakes his head, but well, he's definitely lying .
Crosshair sighs, annoyed, shrugging his backpack off. He's got to have some bacta something or other in here somewhere . Hunter's watching him in silence. He's being uncharacteristically quiet. Not that Hunter's ever been loud, exactly, but he's just so – empty. It's freaking him out.
He digs the syringe out of somewhere in the very bottom – should probably have organized this a little better – and stabs the needle into Hunter's neck. The slightest bit of his tenseness is fading, but it's not...
He's not comfortable .
It's fine.
Crosshair isn't, either.
He feels empty. Torn raw and gutted and – helpless. Which is ridiculous when he's the commander, the one in charge, the –
He wants to go home.
He wants this all to be fixed , and he doesn't want to have to sit out the aftermath. He just – they're supposed to be together.
He doesn't want to have to be terrified of being left behind, of being hurt, of them. They're all he cares about. Crosshair would do anything to get him back. All of them. Whatever happens from here, he needs to get them back. He can't handle being alone anymore.
They left him. They – why ? He doesn't – nothing makes sense anymore, and he wants to ask but now isn't the time or place to demand answers.
He wants Hunter to hug him so badly it's almost ridiculous. He wants to curl up in his arms and let him just – help . Fix this. Change – everything .
He could. Hunter could always... fix things. Hunter and Tech. Whatever it was, they always made it right . He wants them to fix this even if it won't change how long he was all alone without them. Even if it will never change how they hurt him.
Crosshair shifts over a little, pulling his backpack back on and sitting on the floor beside Hunter. He can watch him from here, too, and they've been apart so long . He doesn't want to be away again, even if seeing him hurts and hearing the quiet shaky cycle of his breathing is familiar. He wants to
"Why are you helping me?" Hunter asks finally.
Crosshair shrugs one shoulder, shifting uncomfortably. He wants to lean closer, but he doesn't trust Hunter anymore. He's afraid to touch him, and he hates that, too. "You'll be useless if you can't walk," he says, even if what he means is a I don't want to see you in pain . He wouldn't say that even if they weren't being watched.
"You don't mean that." Hunter's watching him again, and Crosshair loathes how exposed he feels.
"You wouldn't know if I did."
For a minute, they just sit there, glancing at each other on occasion though never enough to meet each other's eyes. He doesn't want to know what he'd see in Hunter's. He's too afraid to.
Hunter's sitting tensed and just... wrong. Not him. Hunter's never this tense. And it's driving him crazy .
Crosshair sighs loudly, thumping back against the wall. "Your foot's in the wrong place."
"What?"
"It's supposed to be an inch over."
"Oh my goodness," Hunter grumbles, but he shifts a little anyway, "You're not the one with a photographic memory."
The mention of Tech sends him right off spiraling again. Tech's gone, because Hunter took all of them . He left Crosshair behind, and he took all of his brothers with him. Even Wrecker. Wrecker was angry at him, too. All of them were .
He – he was just...
They're supposed to be soldiers, and...
(He hurt people. He killed people, and he feels sick whenever he remembers it. Remembers them . But he had orders and there was nothing else he could do – Hunter was gone , and...)
Hunter's hands edge a little closer to his. He's not reaching for him, exactly, but Crosshair sees it , and he's been begging the stars for some kind of sign that they – that they want him . He slips his hand over, touching Hunter's wrist.
He twitches, jerking slightly, but turns his hand over.
Crosshair slips his hand into Hunters, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. Hunter squeezes it back.
He exhales shakily, drifting closer.
**w**
Doesn't remember actually leaning on Hunter, but he must've, because he wakes in hyperspace exit over Kamino with his head on Hunter's shoulder, their hands still intertwined. The position is familiar enough that his mind flashes back into the past before crashing back into the present full-force and he doesn't know if he wants to cry or throw up more.
He wrenches away from Hunter and stands, throat tight and clogged with emotion. He wants to scream. To scream until he can't and throw something or maybe stab something .
His brothers are gone.
It wasn't real.
Nothing is real.
They – they don't...
He's a seething mess of empty hurt and rage but it's not like he hasn't been for weeks now.
There's a high chance they'll come out and Crosshair will still be alone . He knows that, and he's terrified . They could walk away from him again. They probably will – they might not look back this time. This is his only chance and he has to – to make it...
He can't keep living like this . He doesn't want to live at all, and that terrifies him. He doesn't want to die because he can't do anything but fight, and he just –
He just wants to come back home but Crosshair doesn't even think that exists anymore, or if it does he doesn't have a place there. Doesn't have an anything or anyone or family or purpose. All he wants is his brothers. He doesn't know what happened, what went wrong, or changed.
He doesn't know why they left him . What he did, if he did something, or if... they could have just said so . They didn't have to abandon him.
Kamino's being decommissioned. The halls are empty, and Crosshair already knew that, but it still unnerves him. This was his home , and he might've hated it there most of the time, but... that doesn't mean he wants it gone.
He doesn't know what's happening to all the regs or why they're being taken off-world either. It doesn't really make sense. If the Empire was planning to keep them as soldiers, why would they be decommissioning Kamino?
What would that mean for him , if the clones are getting replaced by people like his new squad? What would it mean for his brothers if they actually agree to come back? If.
He doesn't understand what's happening, either, but it's not his place to ask questions, so when Hunter asks about it, all he says is a "good soldiers follow orders" that feels numb and fully disbelieving before pushing him forward.
He takes Hunter to the command center to wait for the other's arrival. They shouldn't be long, but it will be a while, and he's restless. He's been waiting for this for – so, so long . Since Bracca. He never wanted to kill them. They – they made him because they left and they knew Crosshair was still with the Empire and – and there was nothing else he could've done.
They're probably going to walk away this is going to hurt even more he's so stupid what was he thinking –
"Crosshair," Hunter says, voice gentle, and he looks up. "I've seen what the Empire's doing. Occupying planets and silencing anyone who stands against them. You know it's not right."
As if any of what happened is really about the Empire or what they're doing. It's hardly different from the Republic. They could have just stayed and followed orders like they used to, but then his brothers decided to leave him. But he can't say all of what he really wants to when they're still being watched. "You left me here ," Crosshair accuses.
That Hunter can even be like this , after – after everything he did to Crosshair is – is infuriating. It hurts . So much.
Hunter sighs. "We didn't have a choice."
"And I did ?" Crosshair demands, glaring back at him. "I never wanted to fight you, Hunter. You made that choice when you left ."
Hunter sighs again. He sounds so tired . He looks tired, but he's standing his ground and holding Crosshair's gaze even if he knows he's scared. The entire situation is doing its most maddening certainty at making Crosshair feel even worse than he already does. And he's angry at that, too. It – made sense, when they were away. Everything made sense . They hurt him, and they betrayed him and abandoned him and did all the galaxy's stupidest things they could have done, but when he sees Hunter, all he sees is the same steadying gentleness he grew up with, and Crosshair wants to – to go with him.
He wants...
He doesn't know, but he can't handle being alone again.
"This isn't you," Hunter tells him, and there's so much genuine earnestness on his face, that it makes his heart ache. "It's that inhibitor chip in your head. It's making you follow –"
Hunter's cut off when one of the annoying nat-borns steps up to say the others have finally, finally decided to show themselves inside the facility.
Omega had mentioned the inhibitor chips on Bracca, maybe when they were in the cell, too. Crosshair has no idea. It doesn't make sense to him, and it's way, way too convenient. It just makes him angry. They can't just chalk their disagreements up to mind control . He would know and he feels perfectly fine . Crosshair is the only one who's not acting absolutely insane. He's the only one with a single brain cell , thank you very much, Hunter, and he doesn't –
They left him. Why wasn't he enough for them ? He tried. Really. He kept trying, always tried, and he just wanted them to be fine .
Hunter was supposed to be the one protecting them, but he failed and he's the one who got them in this situation.
"Time to go," Crosshair says, sliding off the chair he was sitting on. "Here." He shoves Hunter's helmet into his hands. "I'm not carrying this everywhere."
Hunter's eyes narrow on him, though he doesn't argue.
**w**
He knew what he was going to say. He's been rehearsing this for weeks, but now the moment the time's here, all Crosshair's mind does is ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
In a voice way too high-pitched to be anyone's but Omega.
And he doesn't even know her voice that well.
Echo. The eldest brother who could have walked away, but he chose them. Wanted them. Came with them. Slept by them. Fought by them. Echo, who they helped and cared for and pieced back together after Skako Minor.
Tech. The second – third oldest now, but still, the – he always knows . Tech, who Crosshair shot into free-fall on Bracca. Tech, who stood by him and held his hand and – Tech . Who always knows . Who hurt him. Blew up an engine in his face as if he wasn't there, flew the Marauder out and left him behind on Kamino. Tech .
And Wrecker.
Stars, his bestie-everything idiot brother who was the one stupid enough to stay by him. His best friend. The one always strong enough to catch him when he fell. The one who walked away.
Crosshair still vividly remembers his twin's wide-eyed hopeless hurt as they met eyes across the hangar. Crosshair hadn't even taken the time to look at him, but Wrecker was watching him, gutted and hurt and disbelieving because he could never believe Crosshair would hurt him. He knows that now. Hadn't thought about it then. Hates himself whenever he remembers it.
And for maybe the first time, the what have I done what did I do what am I crashes into him full force.
He wants to cry.
"Here we all are," Crosshair says, anyway, throwing Hunter's comm onto the floor where it clangs and rolls into Tech's boot. "Together again." The kid's not here, though. "Where's your kid?"
Wrecker scoffs, shoving his helmet up. The anger is familiar, and all Crosshair can remember is a looping repeat of Wrecker's gasp as he hit the floor. Remembers the sickening smell of burning – that was Wrecker that was his brother his – stars what has he done ? "You think we'd bring her here? We're smarter than that."
"Oh, I'm smarter than that," Crosshair scoffs, "You go everywhere together." He looks at the Non-conveniently-placed nat-born and tells her to go off after the kid.
"So, this was your grand plan?" Hunter queries, twisting back a little to look back at Crosshair. It feels wrong to have his blaster out, to have it aimed at Hunter again , but he needs it out. He knows his very annoying nat-born not-squad, and they are going to object. Crosshair can't not get emotional, and he has to wait until they're not being watched. "Bring us here, and kill us?"
As if Crosshair has ever wanted them dead ? There were wild moments when he thought he could sleep better with it, but stars , he doesn't want them to be in pain. "If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have helped you ," Crosshair snarls back. He wants to cry. To hit him. To – he wants to be held again. Hunter turns around to face him again. His face is closed off. "I'm the one who picked you up where they left you . You betrayed everything we stood for ."
"We're loyal to each other," Hunter argues, "Not some Empire ."
"You weren't loyal to me ," he snarls back, lashing out. He didn't mean to hit Hunter, but his hand lashes out and shoves him. He – he wants to hurt. To hit something. To scream his voice raw. He feels raw.
Hunter flinches back from him. He looks like he wants to cry. Crosshair certainly does. He is Going to cry in about fifteen seconds, and he won't be stopping anywhere in the next fifteen days.
"I haven't forgotten who we are, even if all of you have. And that's why I'm giving you what you never gave me. A chance."
He was there for weeks . Weeks where all he could think about was them and how they left and what they did to him.
"Crosshair," Hunter says, his voice soft and shaky. "We – we never meant it to come this far. We were trying to come back for you on Kamino. I'm sorry we weren't fast enough."
It's the first time he's apologized, and it catches him off-guard, but it's – after everything they put him through, he can't just let it go . They hurt him. They hurt him , and he wants to – to lash out. To throw something. To hurt. But he doesn't want them to be hurt, either. He feels so empty .
His comm beeps with the report that Omega was found. "Send her to the shuttle," Crosshair orders.
Hunter's eyes narrow again. He's angry.
"Crosshair, you can't," he argues, "Omega belongs with us."
"And I didn't ?" Crosshair demands. He knows the raw fury and hurt he feels is flooding his voice. He doesn't mean to be open and emotional with them but if they care, they – should know . Should feel it. Every bit of the raw emptiness he's been drowning in since they left him. That – they hurt him , and he doesn't understand why that doesn't matter . "She's not part of this. She's not a soldier." And the Empire isn't going to let them keep a random kid with them, just because she was... nice to them.
She shot at Crosshair. He still remembers that, and it still hurts. She turned on him, too.
"She's still our sister," Hunter argues, eyes narrowed. "She's still one of us."
"That's not why I brought you here," Crosshair replies. His heart is pounding, and trying to get out this or anything is impossibly hard. He's terrified of being rejected again. He can't handle them walking away. He won't be able to live with it, but all he'll be able to do is keep fighting, anyway, even if he doesn't want to. He – he doesn't – "I'm asking you to come back. We can be brothers again."
Hunter's eyes widen the slightest bit.
Wrecker looks from Echo to Tech, who both mutually exchange glances with him. He remembers those looks. The looks that said the world. That he hasn't gotten to share with anyone in so long because they left him and he wasn't enough for them and he still doesn't understand where he went wrong .
"Why should we trust you?" Hunter asks, and he's wary, though not outright hostile. He's trying to look out for them. Everyone except Crosshair, and that makes it hurt more.
It's a fair enough question when he's still a prisoner, when they're all being held at blaster point, and – and Crosshair doesn't... his new not-squad have killed – many people. Without hesitation. Well, he killed the one who hesitated, and still doesn't regret it because he was awful anyway, but – but these are his brothers.
He doesn't want this to be forced.
That wouldn't make it real.
It wouldn't fix anything.
Wouldn't be about him .
He takes Hunter's knife from his belt. Shifts closer, slicing the blade through his cuffs. Hunter looks from his hands to him, his dark eyes wide with muted surprise.
He looks so young .
He raises his blaster – has kept it in his hand, just in case something goes wrong and this blows up into a fight again.
He's not taking any chances or risks. These are his brothers , and all that matters is getting them back.
He misses Wrecker's warmth. Tech's constant chatter. Echo. All of them .
His not-squad refuses to stand down when Crosshair orders them to, predictably. He knew that would happen. He never told them about the mission. Not directly. Doesn't trust them, either.
"Enough yet?" Crosshair demands.
Hunter backs away from him a little when he approaches, anyway. His hands are raised like he's expecting Crosshair to attack him as if he would do that . If they tried to stab him again right now he doesn't think he'd even try to stop them. He just – he –
"Where did I go wrong, Hunter?" he demands, voice shaking. Glaring. "How? I tried everything for you. Everything I could give you, I did. And you – you left me ."
"Crosshair. I – I'm sorry. I knew it would hurt you, but it was all so fast, and I never thought about what it would do to you."
"That's what you're supposed to do !" he yells back. "You can't just walk away ." He wants to cry. Tears prick his eyes, and he wants to throw something. To – something . Not just stand here .
He doesn't trust them, either. This hasn't blown up in his face yet, but it's probably about to. He needs them . Hunter's supposed to – make things right .
Hunter looks a few minutes short of crying, and Wrecker looks gutted behind him. The sharpness in Tech's eyes is gone. Echo's helmet hides his face, still emotionlessly impassive. Crosshair knows him. Knew him, anyway, and he – he doesn't want to think they'd walk away again.
"Don't make the same mistake twice," Crosshair demands, though he's not half as level as he'd like. He's terrified and he feels so raw and vulnerable. He hates it. He doesn't trust them anymore, but they're the only ones who can make this right. Who can help him.
"Crosshair." Hunter shifts closer. He's moving slowly, hesitant to approach, but not outright holding back either. Crosshair watches him, eyes narrowed,
Hunter looks a few minutes short of crying, and Wrecker looks gutted behind him. The sharpness in Tech's eyes is gone. Echo's helmet hides his face, still emotionlessly impassive. Crosshair knows him. Knew him, anyway, and he – he doesn't want to think they'd walk away again.
"Don't make the same mistake twice," Crosshair demands, though he's not half as level as he'd like. He's terrified and he feels so raw and vulnerable. He hates it. He doesn't trust them anymore, but they're the only ones who can make this right. Who can help him.
"Crosshair." Hunter shifts closer. He's moving slowly, hesitant to approach, but not outright holding back either.
Crosshair watches him, eyes narrowed and misted over, heart racing. He wants to cry. Genuinely thinks he's going to. His hands are cold and his chest is burning. His throat is tight.
"Come with us," Hunter requests, "We can help you." He sounds so gentle, but he's – he's still asking .
"You want me to desert, too?" he asks. He sounds breathless. Not quite incredulous, but close. "If we're not soldiers, what are we ?"
"We're more than that. We always have been." His hands shift forward slightly, raising, and Crosshair twitches back. He wants to feel Hunter's warmth again. Wants to feel safe. To be held, to – to stop worrying.
Hunter's scared of him. They all are, and it makes him sick all over again. He feels like throwing up or crying or just outright screaming . He didn't mean to. Wishes he could say he didn't want to, but – but he did and he couldn't – He didn't really mean to hurt Wrecker, but he did, and he shot him and tried to kill all of them. Of course , they're scared of him. How couldn't they be ?
He wants to cry. Or scream. Or –
His heart is pounding and he can't stop remembering the million blurred moments of seeing Tech mid-fall, Wrecker's grunt as he hit the hangar floor, and the brilliant flash of light as the engine exploded in his face. This would make more sense if something hurt.
"Don't touch me," he snaps, though he doesn't try stopping him.
"It wasn't you," Hunter tells him, hands lifting to pull Crosshair's helmet off, "None of this was."
"You don't know that," Crosshair accuses, blinking stubbornly against his tears. He's not going to cry, even if he's cried in front of his brothers thousands of times before.
"I know you, Crosshair." Hunter answers. He's scared. Crosshair can see the fear in his eyes, but that's not stopping him from reaching out. That's not stopping him from trying, even if he had to wait so long to do it."You would never try to hurt us."
A month ago, Crosshair would say the same. Without thought. It never mattered what they did or didn't do to him, because they were his brothers, and they did everything together. It didn't matter how much they fought.
But then Kaller had happened and they left and he hurt them and he can't stop thinking about it and – he just wants to be with them again, like they always used to be. Before he ever imagined anything could change.
Crosshair moves first, mostly on impulse and genuinely uncaring of what happens next, wrapping his arms around Hunter. Hunter freezes briefly, but Crosshair feels him shifting and pulling him closer, armor and all – the armor that he's only worn long enough to fight them. He's finally home and it feels nice.
It's everything he's been missing so desperately all this time. He just wants to be with them again right now and he doesn't even care what that entails, even if he can't imagine not being a soldier when that's all they've ever done.
Crosshair rests his face against Hunter's shoulder – even if the armor is pokey and generally unpleasant – clinging to him tightly.
He feels childish and stupid for crying, but hey, he's nine .
An alarm blares through the room, and they jerk apart.
The training droids rise out of the floor around them and start shooting. He has no idea what's happening or who decided to activate these things but he's very annoyed it just ruined the first moment he's actually felt safe and not alone since this all started.
He holds Hunter's knife out to him, who looks at it a moment before taking it, and they spread out.
This – is familiar. So familiar. This is where they started, all five of them. His family. The only one that's ever mattered.
**w**
The Empire opens fire on Kamino. Crosshair expected as much from the decommissioning, but seeing it makes him feel – a very, very long list of things. He was here. The Empire knew he was here, still alive, but they just left him here for dead with his brothers when he was supposed to be recruiting them .
He was on a mission that he failed because the Empire...
Is trying to get him killed. And his brothers.
So, yes, he's angry .
Very angry.
It doesn't matter what his brothers have done or are. That doesn't mean anyone is allowed to hurt them .
Doesn't stop him from muttering a "I think the ceiling is broken in at least three places" to Hunter, who gives him what Crosshair's fairly certain is equivalent to an eye-roll.
He realizes mid-falling that he abandoned his helmet in the training room. Doesn't care. It never felt like his anyway.
He gets trapped under some falling debris, and Omega drags him out when he nearly drowns, She could have let him die. She has every right to hate him, but she cares about him enough to save him.
Echo, of all people, steps up to give him a hand while they're falling. Echo, who's only one-handed and Crosshair can hardly think about that at all. He never realized how much he missed him . All of them.
The entire facility falls underwater, and Crosshair is terrified . Genuinely. There's a few times he remembers actually being scared, but he is now. Maybe he's forgotten how easily his brothers make things possible, but the chances of getting out just seem – absent .
Seeing their barracks again is gutting . Crosshair was there when they weren't. He was there to watch it ripped clean of his childhood, of all the time they spent together.
He's staring emptily at their board when Omega approaches, slipping her tiny hand into his with a quiet "Crosshair?"
He starts, looking down. Half expects her to say something stupid about being scared because nat-born kids do that a lot, but she's not a nat-born. She's a clone. It's easy to forget.
"You okay?" she asks instead.
"I'm fine," he snaps automatically.
No.
Certainly not .
This is the first time someone's asked him that in weeks and he wants to cry all over again.
He hated Kamino, but – this was his home and he doesn't want it gone. He sort of just... thought they could be away someday. Not that he'd live to stand in the ashes of the only place all the clones have to call a home.
"We grew up here," he says finally.
"I'm sorry," Omega whispers, squeezing his hand.
As though there were something she could do. Maybe she's not so bad, after all. Not that Crosshair didn't always adore her, just...
This is more.
She's older than they are, too, apparently, or at least that's what Tech says when they make it to Nala Se's lab. It's a good thing they have Omega, or they'd be basically screwed.
**w**
The underwater tunnel is destroyed. They don't have much of a chance from there.
If he hadn't brought them here, if he'd – thought about this...
Crosshair is the one who's gonna get them all killed. He's the reason this is happening. He wanted them back, was willing to do anything , but he's going to get them all killed.
He doesn't even fit here anymore, and seeing them together so seamlessly, knowing none of them hurt each other, Crosshair was the only one who – who made this mistake . He's the only one who was stupid enough to stay with the Empire, and he hurt them . All of them. They hurt him, too, but he was going to kill them, and it's...
Crosshair moves off silently, watching them from a distance, stubbornly determinedly trying to stay together . He already cried in front of them once. What's he going to do, do it again ? He's not three years old. This is ridiculous.
He draws his knees up to his chest and just sits there in a miserable ball, genuinely expecting everyone else to ignore him entirely.
Hunter and Echo's voices drift to him from across the room. The quiet clicking of boots makes him look up. Tech.
His white armor clashes sharply with their dark surroundings.
"I am aware that you are afraid," he says, "But we will figure this out, as we always do."
"I'm not scared," Crosshair snaps back automatically.
"Then what are you?" Tech inquires, stubbornly refusing to react. Tech never falls for Crosshair's sharp comments, unless they're direct insults of his intelligence or maybe a few scarce other things. He's always so gentle . He's so distantly non-emotional, he's always at Crosshair's side even when he and Hunter argue. Which – is a lot, and that he was gone all these weeks when Crosshair needed that will never stop hurting, but he – he misses him.
And Crosshair nearly killed him. Three times now.
"I don't belong here."
"That is ridiculous," Tech answers instantly, "You are our brother. There is nowhere else you belong. Come." He extends a hand to Crosshair. "We must focus on means of escape."
He means home.
He's asking Crosshair back, too.
As if there's anywhere else he could be.
As if there's anyone in the galaxy who cares about him except his brothers .
Tech nearly killed him, too. He was the one – no doubt – who decided to bring the auxiliary deck down on Crosshair's head.
He also saved his brothers. From Crosshair.
He reaches back, taking Tech's hand and letting his older brother pull back to the rest of their family.
**w**
Hunter asks Crosshair to come with them again when they reach the landing platform.
Kamino is entirely gone. That could have been him. The Empire was going to kill him and his entire family .
Tech offers to get AZI working to get Crosshair's chip out. The droid's power had died on the way to the surface, and Crosshair pulled him out.
He knows they care about him, but he doesn't know that he can trust them not to hurt him, either. He doesn't know if he can believe they won't end up fighting again. That this won't go badly.
He doesn't think they'll hurt him again, not unless he does something stupid.
Hunter sits awkwardly on the edge of his seat when Tech orders them to strap in for the hyperspace jump, looking totally genuinely uncomfortably grumpy about it. What did he do?
Still, though. Crosshair insists on holding Tech's hand the entire time AZI scans him. having to hold still while being studied is still – ughhhh.
The droid's annoying. Not bad annoying, but still annoying, and flies back to announce there's nothing there.
"What?" Wrecker asks, confused.
"Check again," Hunter orders, lurching off the wall he was leaning against. "That can't be right."
"That is unnecessary," Tech replies, "I have my specialized scanner."
What scanner? Crosshair watches in silence as Tech moves off to get something from the back. His heart feels fluttery and distant.
He's panicking. Doesn't even know why, but he is . He's just – terrified . Of what Tech will find, for better or worse.
Wrecker and Omega are alternating between exchanging glances with each other and Hunter, and mostly are just staring at Crosshair.
" There is nowhere else you belong ."
" There is –"
Echo takes his hand and Crosshair clings to him wordlessly. His hand still feels thin and bony and like he got all the life sucked out of him. Echo's sharp, but he can still be hurt. Is often still hurt. The one thing Echo is scared of is anything medical-related. The scanner lights. Freezes up and panics every time he sees them. That he's still willing to stand right here says a lot.
Crosshair tries to cycle his breathing. In. Out. He's done this a thousand times. They all have.
"This is unusual," Tech says finally, pulling the scanner thingy off him and studying something on his datapad.
"What do you see?" Hunter demands. He sounds worried. His hands are clenched. He's scared. Again. Of Crosshair .
He feels sick. Is pretty sure whatever answer he gets is gonna make him want to throw up even more.
"AZI's scan is correct," he replies, "Despite some altered brain activity in the surrounding areas, his inhibitor chip is gone."
"It's gone?" Hunter asks, hands on his hips. He's closed off.
Wrecker's eyes are wide. So are Omega's. Echo doesn't let his hand go.
"But," Omega argues, her tiny hand landing on Crosshair's thigh. "It's supposed to be in there, right? It couldn't've just come out . And he would never do this on his own." She looks up at him, eyes wide and worried, in silent plea for him to deny it but he doesn't even know what he's supposed to be denying when it's the truth.
It was him.
Crosshair didn't realize how much he'd been counting on it not being him , like Hunter had promised until the minute he realizes it was, and something in him just – shatters .
Nothing made him do this .
He chose to.
Hunter's watching him again, his body completely tense like he's expecting something to blow up in his face. Wrecker looks like someone ripped his heart out. Omega's just stunned silence. Echo's jaw is clenched, though he doesn't look overly surprised. Tech is just... watching. Assessing.
He needs to move. To – something.
The walls are too close. Closing in on him. The room's too dark.
Hunter reaches to touch him. Crosshair flinches away from him.
Hunter had said it wasn't him and Crosshair believed him because he said it but he was wrong and that was Crosshair this whole time he just wanted to hurt them because he – he could, and – what – why –
He looks around them. The people he's hurt. The family he hurt. Fought against.
Hunter, the one who took care of all of them, who blames himself for what happened to Crosshair and everything he could or couldn't control. Hunter, who never doubts himself and Crosshair somehow managed to make double question his every move.
Wrecker, his twin his Bestie Everything idiot of a brother who has the mind of someone half his size and is so, so easy to hurt from it. Wrecker, who Crosshair shot and he still vividly remembers his wide-eyed, gutted face. Wrecker, who Crosshair made lose everything just – for what?
Tech, who Crosshair could listen to rambling for hours. Who knew Everything. Who could fix anything – who stood by him, wanted him back – Tech. Who Crosshair hit and shot at for being so blindly willing to follow Hunter.
Echo, who finally, finally got the squad he thought he'd never lose, and Crosshair ripped them apart by walking away.
Omega, who had wanted him for years and he left and ruined her first hopes of having her family together, whether he knew and meant to or not. Omega , who was caught entirely needlessly in the crossfire of something Crosshair caused and she had no say in.
He hurt them all and that was him and he wanted to and it made so much sense. They hurt him and left him and he...
Nothing makes sense anymore.
"Crosshair?" Hunter asks, turning to him, "When did it happen?"
He shakes his head, at a loss for words. "I – I don't – I didn't even know they were real –"
"Can you pinpoint a moment where your thought patterns changed?" Tech inquires.
He doesn't want to think about it at all. The past month was a nightmare, and he just wanted to come home . "I don't know."
Hunter shifts closer to him, and Crosshair doesn't pull away this time.
Hunter's gloved hand touches his jaw, tilting his head to the side a little. He's studying the scarring on Crosshair's head, and his throat tightens. Can't breathe. He wants to move. Needs –
He remembers the flash. The explosion. The pain.
" Try again, Hunter. I told you before, you're surrounded. "
Hunter's touch is gentle. Too gentle.
Crosshair remembers it burning there. Remembers everything burning. Remembers his anger.
"It's hard to tell," he admits, "The scar's bad, but I think – maybe."
Crosshair pulls away from him. Pushes his arm away. Stumbles to his feet shakily. Everything's sort of spinning and his vision is hazed over, distant. He's panting. Gasping. Can't breathe.
"Crosshair," Hunter says firmly, turning his head to face him.
His vision's blurred over again. He's crying. Doesn't mean to and hardly knows why, just –
It's too dark too closed too –
He hurt them . They hurt each other. Crosshair can't trust it not to happen again. He can't trust them not to hurt him. He did this to them by choice which means he's still a threat and he –
"Look at me," he requests, touching Crosshair's face.
A quiet, strangled sound slips free from his throat. Tries to focus on Hunter's face. Can't.
"Just – breathe," Hunter orders firmly.
He nods. Tries. Hunter's hand is still on his face. It's still too dark. They're still too close. Keeps expecting it to hurt. Everything to hurt.
"Can you tell us what's wrong?"
Crosshair shakes his head in the negative. Can't talk. Doesn't want to explain how terrified he is of them, how he – they're scared of him . Hunter's scared of him and Hunter's not afraid of anything .
Hunter kneels awkwardly in front of him, pulling Crosshair against his chest. He's held him a thousand times before, but this is different and foreign even if it's safe and warm and home . Crosshair presses his hands to his side and clings .
Hunter leans into him, holding him. It can't be that comfortable and it must hurt, but he doesn't let go.
Hunter's scared of him.
He's scared of him but he's still holding him.
Wrecker shifts closer, and Crosshair pulls back, throwing himself at Wrecker. He catches him, warm arms wrapping around him and cradling him tightly against his chest.
Wrecker's hugs are still best.
Hunter's are a cling-to-me-like-you're-dying-if-you-want-attention (it's still easiest to just climb in his lap and refuse to move), Tech's are an awkward pat and throw across the room no matter how tight he clings, and Crosshair still doesn't dare hug Echo unless he looks like he sorely needs it.
Wrecker's are perfectly normal hugs and snuggles until he can't breathe.
Which he already can't, so the point is moot but he's here .
The shoulder his face is pressed to is the one Crosshair shot.
Wrecker's still willing to hold him.
Even after he shot him .
There's a thump and shuffle behind him. He hears someone pulling Hunter to his feet like he can hardly stand on his own. Probably Echo.
"It was after Bracca," Crosshair says, finally finding an answer to Tech's question. His voice sounds awful but it's not like they can't see him crying. "The change." He was furious after he was hurt. Angry enough he could keep standing, no matter how he felt. He was taken back to Kamino to be treated properly, and when he'd woke up, he just felt... different.
He wasn't angry anymore. He just felt lost and empty and scared.
"Why would the Empire have taken it out?" Echo demands, "That doesn't make any sense."
"It may have some connection with his injury," Tech answers, "Which I still don't know how you obtained."
Crosshair sighs, pressing tighter to Wrecker. It'd be so easy to tell them that he was standing right there, caught in the explosion as they tried to escape. He doesn't want them to be drowning in the same guilt he feels. He wishes he could say he never wanted to hurt them, but he – he did .
He shifts to wrap his arms around Wrecker's neck. His brother's hands are on his back, pressing them together. His cheek is on Crosshair's head, and it feels weird to not have hair. He misses it. He just – hid it, because hiding it felt easier than trying to face who he had and lost.
"I'm sorry," he mutters uncomfortably. "I – I wanted – I couldn't stop wanting to hurt you. I meant to. I knew I shouldn't. I couldn't stop it ." Nothing makes sense anymore. It just hurts .
"It could've been damaged in whatever caused the scarring," Omega pipes up.
"And had to be removed," Hunter sighs. "But theorizing won't get us anywhere."
Crosshair presses tighter to Wrecker's armor. He doesn't want to move.
"Why didn't you come back?" Wrecker asks finally. He doesn't sound angry. Just lost and hurt, and it'd be easier if he was angry.
He... never thought about it. Sometimes he did, but how was he supposed to find them after he hurt them and they hurt him when he was so sacred and... "What was I supposed to do?" he demands, pulling back. Wrecker's hands are still lingering on his shoulders and Crosshair's slide down to his chest.
"Ya could've found us." He looks hurt. Raw. Gutted.
Crosshair's eyes fall on where he vividly remembers the hole in Wrecker's armor and pulls his hand back to wipe his eyes. "I know. But you left, and I didn't..."
"Didn't what?" Hunter asks, not judging, but not overly gentle, either.
"You left me ," Crosshair argues, "What was I supposed to think?"
"There is nowhere else you belong."
Crosshair sighs. He's just... tired. Worn enough to sleep for the rest of the century.
He feels like a nine-year-old again instead of someone twice that age. More him, just... the whatdidyoudowhatareyou is still stubbornly ringing in his head, but he can't even think about that. He doesn't know why he did any of what he has. It was so stupid. He was being so selfish .
"Crosshair," Hunter says, sighing, moving closer even if he looks uncertain. "I know we hurt you. I want to make up for what we did, whether we had a choice or not. We didn't leave you because of anything you did."
Crosshair looks past him to Echo and Tech – Tech nods to him when they lock eyes – and his gaze catches Omega's, too. She looks hurt, but not judging or angry. She's... accepting, even if she doesn't like it, and Crosshair thinks he adores her, too.
He doesn't know if he can believe it, but he'll try. For weeks, he's been struggling to think of something he could've done, and all his mind has done is draw blanks.
"You were right that I made mistakes." Hunter's searching his eyes for something, though he doesn't know what. "I'm sorry we hurt you in any way we have. You were enough for us. You always have been."
Crosshair nods to him, reaching out, fingers ghosting over the stripe of Hunter's chest plate. He misses the red. The color. Him.
Hunter squeezes his wrist. He's hurt and closed off but he's not rejecting, and that is – something.
I love you , Crosshair thinks fiercely, even if he'll never say it.
The moment's broken when Tech interjects that he needs to check Hunter over, and Crosshair feels an instant level of relief. Hunter was hurt, and he's still having off-balance issues. Crosshair spent most of the time on Kamino being certain Hunter would end up randomly going splat on his face.
Still expects it.
Crosshair pulls his armor off, dumping it unceremoniously on the floor because he can't get it off fast enough. He feels – wrong . This isn't him.
Wrecker rips off his own despite Echo's grumpy disapproving looks over their mess.
Wrecker scoops Crosshair up with a laugh, and he lets out a strangled surprised squeak. He grabs Wrecker's shoulder to balance himself, but this is familiar . He's finally home.
They climb onto Wrecker's rack sprawled all over each other.
Omega's snuggled with Lula in the gunner's mount, watching them and laughing. She looks so comfortable. Safe. Adorable .
"I'm sorry I shot you," Crosshair says, head on Wrecker's chest. He's not going to start figuring out who's limbs are who's because they're a mess and the Kaminoans probably had the same issue prying them out of their tube together. "And... for hurting you."
"It's 'lright," Wrecker promises, patting his side. Oh, that's one place-able limb. "I healed."
Crosshair scoffs. That doesn't help. He still hurt him. "You're angry."
"'t's okay," Wrecker promises, and Crosshair doesn't believe him, but at least he's trying .
He'd pat him somewhere but his arm is stuck.
Over Wrecker's shoulder, he sees Echo and Tech shooing Hunter to the front to get scanned and treated. He's being unreasonably reluctant about it, but Crosshair can still relax a little at seeing him being taken care of. He'd been so worried . Hunter's always fine, but there was still once a time Wrecker wasn't, and...
He snuggles closer to his twin's chest, clinging to him and closing his eyes. No, he's not safe or calm, but like Hunter said, they can try.
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