Part 5 - Amending
Plot: Hunter knew their struggles wouldn't be nearly over when he and his family finally settle down on Pabu. He just didn't think it would start from within – mostly, from his own still lingering struggles with Crosshair. Trying to be around him is hard. Living with him is even harder. He doesn't mean to be jittery. He just can't make it stop.
The first day on Pabu isn't so bad, no matter how Hunter's fully certain this is fake and everything's about to blow up. Crosshair left them once, and getting him back can't be this easy. Omega trusts him, and Wrecker's right aboard with it, but Hunter's still scared.
Omega takes Emerie out to teach her to fly, and they go from there. The twins sit side-by-side, their wings spread behind them, basking in the sunlight for the first time in months – on Crosshair's part, anyway. Hunter sits beside them, just watching.
It turns out, despite having had wings for years – presumedly – and being with Hemlock who definitely has wings, she has no idea how to fly.
Watching Emerie's flight attempts is hilarious. Their wings are big, and you can't take off from standing. Emerie's attempts to keep wing flapping just gives her enough momentum to go over on her face.
Omega's laughing too hard to breathe, and Crosshair keeps telling her to go at it again. He muffles his cackles into Wrecker's shoulder when she falls.
Hunter interrupts, finally taking pity on her after Emerie faceplants for the umpteenth time, because he knows exactly how that feels. He had the same struggles at first, until Omega finally suggested he jump off something to get him in the air. It worked, except that he cycled three full panic attacks after hitting the ground that only Echo was able to understand. No one else knew what was wrong, but Echo's seen them before, and apparently Hunter handles them differently than Crosshair.
It wasn't fun at all. His mind kept flashing back to Kamino. It was so hard to get it to stop.
All he could think about was Crosshair.
"Come," Hunter offers, pulling her up again, "Let's try something else. Are you afraid of heights?"
"Heights?"
"Falling?"
"I have never fallen before."
"You just fell twenty-five times," Crosshair interrupts.
He has no idea what he did to deserve getting Crosshair, but hey, if Emerie wants to stay with them, she'll hafta get used to it, too.
Hunter jumps them both off a cliff, the air catching his wings and he flips around, flying. Emerie flails a bit, but copies his moves, and for the first time in well over a year – since before the war's end and before Omega and Crosshair – he feels free. The wind whips across them, and tastes salty-humid from the ocean, but it's amazing. It whips through his hair and feathers and Omega jumps off to join them, laughing.
Hunter joins her. Can't believe it, but he is.
It lasts for minutes before they land, but as the first bit of fun Hunter's had in months, he thinks it's worth it.
Echo's on the way, promised he's only a few rotations out and was overwhelmingly happy to see them again, and Hunter really, genuinely thinks nothing's about to go wrong.
He was wrong.
Hunter wakes up a few hours after they finally go to sleep with a way-too-graphic nightmare of Crosshair slitting his throat.
He feels sick.
His heart is pounding, and his chest is on fire again. It's burning, bad enough he wants to cry.
Crosshair's curled up nearby, motionless and sleeping. He's still in pain, still injured. Both he and Wrecker are. There's a – something in his head, letting him feel them. Crosshair's smoky-foggy-ness is constantly in his mind. Same for Wrecker's warmth, and Emerie's... charcoal-forest-y-ness. She feels as soft as she really is.
There's... something with Omega, but Hunter doesn't fully get it. He wants to share that with Omega far more than anyone else.
But Crosshair's here, sleeping on the same ship and entirely harmless, but his heart is still pounding and he feels close enough to throwing up he's almost fully certain he's about to.
He tried to focus. Breathe.
His heart is pounding and all he can think about is Crosshair and the knife and stars.
Wrecker shifts a little as Hunter makes to stand, but Crosshair's the one who wakes, gasping. He's crying.
Whatever worries Hunter had moments ago melts away, and he pushes himself up, moving to Crosshair's side. He needs him. "Nightmare?" Hunter guesses.
"Yeah." He tries to wipe his eyes, avoiding Hunter's gaze. He's ashamed for crying. Shouldn't be.
Hunter bites his lip, sitting down beside him. Nightmares are hard. He knows – has dreamed of Crosshair an almost ridiculous amount after Kamino. Crosshair used to have dreams of Wrecker losing his eye, and Hunter knows how to deal with them. Doesn't mean he's happy. "Want me to stay?" They're on the floor, anyway – no one wanted to make it to the racks. The twins couldn't, anyway – they're still healing, and Omega didn't have the energy to heal them, too. It's exhausting for her, and they insisted she let it run its natural course.
(Hunter's lucky. It makes him feel worse than he already does. He should still be hurt, too. He's the one who failed them)
Crosshair's eyes flicker to Emerie's sleeping form – she's on the floor near them, one of what was once Echo's blankets thrown over her – then to Wrecker and back at Hunter. Hunter knows what he's dreaming about. Tantiss.
He's not going to say yes, but he's too scared to say no. Hunter lays beside him, twisting onto his side because Crosshair still can't turn over, and spreading his right wing to lay over Crosshair's.
It's not exactly draped over him, but contact is supposed to help, and Hunter doesn't know how else to give. Crosshair slips his fingers over the edge of the bone-limb-wing end-thing, and he tries not to think about Kamino, about how badly he wanted to get out.
It's okay. It's – it's fine. It's weird, yeah, but he said he likes them. It's – it's fine.
(Yeah, tell that to the way his heart is racing and burning and how desperately he wants to yank away.)
Wouldn't matter even if he didn't, because Crosshair needs him and that's more important than anything else.
That night is hard.
The next is worse.
Hunter doesn't know how he makes it through either. He couldn't sleep from when he laid down with Crosshair – sort of dozes in and out, but he can't actually let go. He thought it'd happen once, or maybe just twice, but the second it's Crosshair who comes to him.
Hunter pulls away early – hard when Crosshair's half laying on him like he used to, which is a sign he's getting better, and Hunter should be happy about that but all he can think about is the desperate, clawing panic in his throat. He can't think about anything else, and he is so, so stupid and selfish for being caught up over this but he can't sleep and he's so, so exhausted by the third day he doesn't want to move, but he doesn't have a choice.
This is stupid. This is so, so stupid.
Crosshair's safe. Everything's fine. He has no reason to be scared of him anymore. They know they can trust him, but all Hunter's doing is being obsessively paranoid for no reason and it's just hurting everyone.
He spends the day trying to avoid Crosshair as much as physically possible while keeping an eye on him, trying to reassure his mind that he won't hurt anyone even if Hunter already knows that. The gnawing anxiety doesn't stop eating at him as he trips over himself every second of the day to keep an eye out. Waiting.
(He can't stop dreaming. Be it Crosshair hurting him or his brothers or just outright walking away. He freezes every time Crosshair touches him, a raw, blinding, consuming panic seizes his chest.)
"How pathetic."
He's so weak.
Doesn't stop him from crying himself out in the 'fresher when he's safe. Doesn't stop him from feeling even worse – this is Crosshair and all that matters is if he's fine.
Not if Hunter can hardly scrape himself off the floor and his chest is on fire and he just wants to sleep. He can call a nap later if it's really so bad. It's not – he's fine. He's had worse. They all have. He just needs to keep moving.
**w**
It's Emerie of all people who brings it up, the morning of day four when he's stumbling for the back to grab a cup of caf and hopefully kick himself moving today again. He can't relax around Crosshair and he doesn't mean to avoid him, but he is and he feels so, so awful for it, but apparently, that's not enough to make him stop.
It should be.
"Hunter," she calls, and he pauses. "Are you alright?" She sounds worried, and the concern throws him a little.
Hunter glances back down at Crosshair where his little brother is still peeling himself off the floor – his wings are sore, and it's hard for him to move. Plus, he still wakes up unreasonably slow at waking time. It's adorable.
"I'm fine," he mutters, making to move but Emerie's faster. She grabs his forearm light, jerking him to a stop.
"You look tired."
Hunter sighs.
"I know you haven't been sleeping," Emerie says, a shred awkward, pulling her hand back.
"Being on Tantiss does that." Wrecker's been struggling with it, too. He spent all that time alone, and Hunter never heard details. He doesn't know if he'd be able to stomach them, if he's being honest. It was awful enough to himself, and trying to sit out with Crosshair, but Crosshair's the one he's tried so hard to let go of.
Wrecker is the one Hunter led there, who followed him blindly and got hurt because Hunter's an idiot.
Wrecker's the one he's had to protect all this time. The one he failed the worst – but at least he was only there a couple of days, unlike Omega who was there for four months because of Hunter.
"Is it that?" she asks, "Or is it Crosshair?"
Hunter twitches. Flinches. He doesn't mean to, but he suddenly feels cold all over. Was it that obvious? Nothing's wrong, really. It's fine. It's not Crosshair's fault something's wrong with Hunter. He's just irreparably broken or defective or something.
It's not Crosshair's fault Hunter panics every time he touches him. Really. It's not.
"What?" Crosshair asks, standing now. He sounds faint, strangled. Hunter's heart is pounding. She – no one was supposed to know –
Not Crosshair. Stars, not Crosshair – if he knows, he'll leave because he does care – Hunter knows he does. He'll leave again and Hunter won't survive losing his little brother a second time over.
"You react when he touches you," Emerie answers, "I've seen it."
Crosshair's looking at him.
Hunter's heart is pounding. He wants to run. "It doesn't matter."
"I think it matters," Emerie argues, stubbornly. Stars. She's as stubborn as Omega. She doesn't let anything go.
"I didn't know," Crosshair supplies quietly.
"You can't sleep near me," she continues, "I've noticed. It's the same concept with Hunter."
"No, it's not," they argue in unison.
She's staring at them.
"You tortured me," Crosshair says, a bit sullenly, "It's – what I did to them was –"
"Much worse," Emerie cuts in, "At least in regard to this."
"It doesn't matter," Hunter interjects, because he doesn't understand what the deal is. It really, really doesn't. "It's fine."
"No, it is not," she snaps. This is one of the first times in his life he's heard her snap at anyone, much less himself. Figures that he can be the first to upset her. Typical. "It matters if you exhaust yourself."
He already is exhausted, thank you very much. Has been since Order 66 years ago. "It's fine."
"Would you say the same about someone else?"
"It's different for me," Hunter argues, crossing his arms and glaring. Crosshair doesn't need to know that. "I'm responsible for him. It doesn't matter if something makes me uncomfortable." There. It's said. The same thing he's been telling himself since Kamino when – when Crosshair... yeah. All of that.
"How does it not matter?" She sounds like Tech, and that hurts. There's a sharpness in her glare that's guttingly familiar, too. Hunter doesn't want to think about any of that right now.
"Leave it," Hunter half-snarls, "I said it doesn't matter."
"Stop it," Crosshair snaps, ripping them apart. Hunter didn't realize how close they were standing until right now. "You could have just told me –"
"Told you what?" That he can't stop having nightmares of Crosshair turning on them again? Of leaving? Of – of hurting him? How is he supposed to tell anyone that? And how does it even matter?
"I thought it was helping you," he snaps. He's angry. Something in Hunter curls away instinctively. He refuses to react, though. No need to make this worse than he already has. "That's why I kept coming back."
They both know that's not true. He isn't going to call him out on it, though. "Look, it doesn't matter," Hunter argues, "You're still hurt. You need to heal."
"This isn't about me!" Crosshair yells.
"It's always about you, Crosshair!" Hunter yells back. He needs to shut up and calm down and stop lashing out whenever something goes wrong. Crosshair made it all about him when he walked out – that's all he's ever done. Maybe he's different now, but it's not like Hunter didn't think that once before.
He's fallen so far out of touch with Crosshair he doesn't even know how his mind works anymore. He doesn't know how to talk to him or what to say, and that just doubles his failure.
("If you don't have the stomach to do what needs to be done, you're not fit to lead this squad.")
That's what finally breaks him.
Crosshair throws him into the wall and storms out.
He's crying again.
Stars.
Hunter can't stop screwing up, can he?
His chest throbs where Crosshair hit it. The stab wound never healed, and every touch makes it ache, though the pain isn't half as sharp as it was.
His wings sting where they hit the wall.
He wants to cry, too.
This is the – what? Second time he's made Crosshair cry at least and he can't stop.
(He remembers the blade in his heart. The raw, blinding pain. He deserved that, didn't he? He wants to feel it again. Once wasn't enough. Should've died there. This is worse.)
Emerie watches Crosshair leave, then looks back at him. She looks so different without the headpiece-whatever she wore. "I'm sorry," she says with a sigh, "I thought it was something I should address."
She cares about them. She doesn't want any of them to be uncomfortable, and that's not something Hunter even understands, No one does that. Not for him – he doesn't matter and he never should. He doesn't need anyone to take care of him. Hunter's the one who has to be strong, but he's not. He's being so, so selfish. They're supposed to be happy here.
(He left Tech.)
Hunter's the one ruining that, because he ruins everything. He wants to cry. He feels sick. His chest is still burning. He shouldn't've lashed out. It really didn't matter. Crosshair didn't deserve that. He's the one who stayed beside Hunter and tried so hard to patch him up no matter how badly it hurt him. Moving was agonizing for Crosshair, but he still stuck as close to Hunter as he could.
There's a dark, twisted, selfish, awful part of him glad he might not have to worry about it anymore, that he can get distance and maybe sleep and not being beside Wrecker is so hard. Wrecker needs him, too, and now Hunter's just making up excuses because he's terrified of Crosshair and doesn't want to be close to him.
He is so, so selfish.
He just sighs and nods to her, because that's really the most he can offer, though Emerie is radiating guilt and he feels even more awful.
He feels dirty.
"I know," he mutters, stumbling into the cockpit, caf forgotten, and is mildly surprised when Emerie follows.
(Tech's goggles stare up at him accusingly. He can't look at them at all.)
**w**
Wrecker's the one who goes after Crosshair. At least someone is, though that's supposed to be Hunter's role. Another thing he's failed. He's mid-picking himself up to advise they go get something to eat, no matter how badly he doesn't want to, when Wrecker slams into his shoulder pointedly, nodding to the ramp where Hunter can feel Crosshair went.
"I don't think he wants to talk to me," Hunter says.
Wrecker's look is firmly disapproving, and the gutting emptiness he feels grows even deeper. He wants to cry. Doesn't even know how to face Crosshair right now.
"You hurt him," Wrecker says, like that's all that matters. To him, it probably is. Okay. It is. Not that Hunter is – any of what he is. It doesn't matter if he's hurt. It never has.
The crushing depression in his heart settles deeper. Deep enough it burns.
That isn't supposed to hurt. It's not something Hunter gets. Even Wrecker's angry at him now.
"Ya should talk to 'im," Wrecker adds when Hunter just stands there.
Don't ask me to do that, he wants to beg, because he can't. He needs a few minutes to breathe. Please don't ask me to do that. He is, though. Isn't going to stop.
No one ever stops.
Hunter moves past him, spotting Crosshair's small, near hidden form almost instantly. He's trying to disappear.
Hunter's fault. Again.
His energy is pulsing lowly, betraying his distress. Hunter hurt him. He should've stayed quiet. He could've said no, asked to talk to Emerie elsewhere. It wasn't her fault, either. She was just trying to help. She didn't know.
"Crosshair?"
"Go," Crosshair snaps, not looking up.
He feels cold. Freezing. Failure.
"Crosshair –"
"Just, go," he snarls, lowering his head. Hunter hovers there a moment longer, unwilling to leave. Not wanting to just walk away again – he did that before and it made everything worse, but he – he doesn't know what to do. He never knows what to do, can never do or be what his brothers and sisters need, and he just... he can't.
Can't anything.
Hunter doesn't remember making a conscious decision to walk away, but somehow, he ended up turning away from the doorway and disappearing farther back in the Marauder, trying to just – just be.
Crosshair wasn't supposed to know that. He shouldn't have to worry about it. Hunter's supposed to just be able to take it. Deal with it. Doesn't matter what it does to him.
It never does.
He just wants to matter. To make this right.
(He can't do this anymore can't do this anymore can'tdothisanymorecan't –)
**w**
Hunter doesn't remember falling asleep. Doesn't remember curling up on his side in the farthest back, most undisturbed corner of their ship he can find. He remembers crying vividly. Cried himself out, because that's all he ever does. He couldn't think about anything through the strangling panic crushing his chest. He can't handle losing Crosshair again, losing anyone again and he's so, so terrified it'll find a way to happen.
He keeps messing this up. Keeps messing everything up – he's supposed to take and give whatever his squad needs him to. That's what it means to be their sergeant, and he just...
Can't.
And he hates it.
All he does know is that when he wakes, it's to his chest burning again. It feels like it's on fire, and Hunter inhales with a shaky, strangled gasp. It hurts.
Burning.
It's done that before. It's familiar. But still.
He couldn't have been sleeping long, because his face is still wet with tears. He still feels worn to the bone and doesn't want to move. He doesn't want to get up.
"Hunter?" Omega's quiet voice asks, and he squeezes his eyes shut with a sigh, burring his face harder against his arm. His vambrace is far from comfortable, but if his tears are still drying, he definitely looks like he was crying and he very much does not want to talk to Omega when he looks like this. Or feels like this. He doesn't want to get back up. That's starting to become increasingly apparent.
But this is Omega and if she's here, she needs him, and he has to get back up and help her.
He already failed her badly enough.
He already – Omega is the one who got them off Tantiss. She saved all of them.
That wasn't Hunter. He can't do anything right.
"Yeah?" he asks, wiping his eyes on the cloth around his vambrace.
His chest is burning, and Hunter presses his hand against it. Pressure sometimes helps, sometimes hurts more.
"I came to check on you," she says, crouching beside him.
Hunter pushes himself up. He's too numb and exhausted to be anything. He rubs idly at his chest, willing the pain to stop. It's not like he's not used to it, or doesn't deserve it, but it still... is annoying. And tiring. Whatever. He'd very much appreciate if it would just – stop. He wants everything to stop.
"You hungry?"
He shakes his head. Hunter can't even remember the last time he wanted to eat. It's been forever.
He's gotten used to giving all, or at least most, of their food to Wrecker so he won't be constantly hungry. He knows he's... thinner. His armor is loose. Loser than it should be. Hasn't bothered to look at himself in the mirror, so he doesn't know what he looks like.
Omega's head tilts and her eyes narrow. It looks so Crosshair-like he can't even look at her. "Why do you keep touching your chest?" Omega asks. "I thought I healed it." She didn't. He thought she had, too, because it had stopped hurting right after she healed the rest of his injuries, but it never really went away.
"It was a lot," Hunter mutters. Another wave of pain crashes over him, flaring and burning, and he grits his teeth.
"I can check it out, if you want?" Omega offers, and Hunter wants to turn it down, because he doesn't want her to know, but it can't be that bad. It's not really possible for him to be any worse than he already is. At least Crosshair was trying when he hurt them. Hunter wasn't, and he can't even do that.
"Sure," he agrees half-heartedly, pushing himself to his feet.
Omega jumps up, grabbing his arm and guiding him to the gunner's mount. Hunter catches onto the ladder rung to haul himself upwards, wings flapping a bit to keep him steady. He feels faint. Sick. Sort of like throwing up. That's never happened before. It's a bit worse, though maybe it's just how centered it is in his heart instead of being spread throughout his entire body.
Omega flies after him as Hunter eases himself into the seat on the gunner's mount. His head is throbbing. His heart is pounding, and it feels like it's not even able to go anymore. He's – he's terrified to know what would happen if it gave out entirely, but does he really care? That's exactly what he was thinking earlier. That he wouldn't. It doesn't even matter – he wants it to stop wants everything to stop.
"Okay," Omega says, landing in front of him and tucking her wings away, "I gotta take your..."
"I know," Hunter mutters in response. His hands are shaky and they feel cold. It's hard to move. He wants to close his eyes and just... sleep. Be. Let go. Stop hurting. Everything hurts, and he can't make anything right and he just needs this all to stop. He's tired of hurting. Of being in pain.
He fumbles with the buttons on his bodyglove a minute before Omega steps up to him to get the other side. It takes a few minutes, and Omega thankfully closes the curtain over them to give them a bit of privacy. Hunter drops his shirt on the floor beside the few armor pieces he wears, trying to shake off the shred of uncomfortableness he feels. Omega's never seen him before, but it isn't like all the rest of his siblings haven't.
... even Emerie has, and he hardly knows her.
Omega flies to him, balancing half in his lap and gripping his arm to stay steady.
Her touch is gentle, and it instantly floods him with an unnatural soothing calm.
Omega's small hand lifts to touch the wound on his chest. Hunter looks down at it for the first time since he made it off Tantiss. There's a straight black line, what must be close to two inches long, right over where his heart is. It's black, and... the skin around it looks dark. Like the veins nearby are fading from red to black. Which, considering how his blood is black now, that's no shock. But still, it's disconcerting.
(Tech stabbed him. That was Tech. It was Tech who stabbed him, and maybe – maybe he deserved it. If it was Tech. If it was his brother. If he can't even stay balanced enough to help Crosshair, if he's still too afraid to be touched by him. There's a traitorous, awful part of him that doesn't even want to try to help because he's so angry, but he's just being selfish now. He doesn't get to be. They don't have time for it and he doesn't have a right to be like that. It doesn't matter if Crosshair hurt him. Doesn't matter if he tried to kill him, because he's back now and that's supposed to be all there is to it.)
(But – but what he did to Wrecker and Tech and Omega does matter.)
His chest is still burning.
The black... stuff that's trying to close over the hole looks sticky. Sort of wet.
Omega's touch over it is gentle and distracting, at least. Her hand flickers with white light, and Hunter feels it burning against his skin, warm and buzzing. He's freezing and it feels nice.
She presses her hand harder against him, and Hunter's wings press against the back of the seat. He wishes he could lean his head back on something, but well, there are some downsides to wings.
He looks down instead.
The light is flickering, pooling inwards, like the black inside him is drawing in her light.
It doesn't stop hurting. Hunter can feel Omega's magic or whatever running through his body, but the pain doesn't stop. It never does. There's no way to make it, and by the stars, he is so, so tired of having to pick himself back up. He doesn't want to. Not again. Not...
Omega's eyes are wide when she pulls her hand off his chest. "I – I can't. You're not letting me."
Hunter blinks. "What?"
"You're shutting me out. I can't heal you." Her fingers are coated with sticky black stuff, and her eyes are wide. She looks scared. Hurt, maybe, and there's tears in her eyes.
"I – I don't think I am?" She wanted to help him, and Hunter can't even let her do that anymore?
"I – I don't know how to fix this." Omega jumps off his lap, looking down at her black-coated hand. "I'll wash this off," she says, "And I'll talk to Emerie. She might be able to think of something."
Oh, yeah, because she always has the answers, doesn't she? Hunter swallows back his bitterness with a nod and shifts backward a bit, closing his eyes.
Stars, he's so, so tired.
Omega wipes her eyes on her hand, looking up at him and biting her lip. She's scared, and he doesn't know why. Doesn't understand what she felt or saw that's upsetting her.
He doesn't know what she means she couldn't do it. He thought the healing thing came to her easily? Maybe he was wrong. Hardly the first time.
He should get up. Get dressed and try to – to do something useful for once. Doesn't want to.
He doesn't want to face Crosshair again. Him or Wrecker or anybody.
The pain lights up in his chest again, hot and burning, and that is the moment it finally clicks.
He can't heal, isn't healing because he doesn't want to. Healing would mean he'd be fine. That he'd live.
And...
That's not what Hunter wants anymore.
Omega can't heal him, because he's shutting her out without even meaning to. Same as why he can't heal himself. Every single time it hurt was when his mind was spiraling, and then the pain set in so bad he could hardly breathe. It felt like he deserved it the first time, when he made Crosshair cry, when he...
Stars.
That is why. And Omega knows.
She knows he feels like that. She must. That's why she's so hurt.
He can't heal because he wants to die too badly, and until he does or something changes, he's going to hurt right into infinity. Hunter doesn't even care. Let it. It – it's fine but he's so tired of being hurt but stars why does he have to be immortal? He didn't ask to live. He doesn't want to.
He doesn't want any of this. Doesn't want anything.
Hunter pulls his armor and clothes back on, making for the door of the Marauder. Wrecker calls his name, but he just – flies. Away.
Like a coward.
All he ever does is run.
(He can't fix anything.)
**w**
Hunter flies to the highest, farthest place he can find and just broods.
He misses Tech. And Echo, who's here – Hunter saw his ship fly in, and he needs to go and greet him but he doesn't want to move or face anyone. He can't stop failing and hurting them and everything hurts so badly he just needs it to stop.
He needs to go and fix things with Crosshair, to stop being so weak and pathetic and defective and...
They know how weak he is. They all do. Omega does.
Hunter knew someone would come find him eventually. He feels the strength of the electric pulsing from far away, and hears the light but still present clanking.
"Still brooding?" Echo asks, sitting next to him. Stars, Hunter's missed his voice. It's not the same over comms.
He sighs. "Omega told you?" She knows. She knows he doesn't want to live, and Hunter can't deal with that. They can't know how weak he is, and they – they all know now, don't they?
Echo sighs. "Yeah." He looks away, and another breeze catches them, relentlessly blowing Hunter's hair into his face and ruffling his feathers. His wings shift a little at the sensation, refolding. "I'll have to go back to Tantiss to get the other clones."
Hunter nods wordlessly. Echo's been working at that this entire time, and he could easily die there, no matter how blindly Hunter believes in his abilities. If he'd taken the time to help everyone else...
"It was Emerie who told me," Echo says after a pause.
So, they all know. Great. He sighs, head turning away.
Echo's hand lightly touches his thigh. "We all make mistakes, Hunter. So've I."
Hunter tenses, looking up. "This wasn't your fault, Echo."
"No, it's all of ours," he answers, "It took a combined effort to bring you here. Not – intentionally, obviously. And it'll take all of us to get you out."
He's not supposed to need their help. He shouldn't, but he does and – he just feels sick. Wrong. "I'm fine, Echo."
"The hole in your chest says otherwise." He gives a pointed look at the still-present hole in Hunter's chest plate. Hunter rolls his eyes at him. Echo elbows his shoulder lightly. "I'm sorry I left you both alone," he continues, "I know I made it worse in my own way. I was... more worried about our other brothers than you, and I guess I let you fall by the wayside."
"You don't need to worry about me. I – it's fine, Echo, really."
"I'm your older brother. It's my job to worry about you."
"I'm –"
"I know you're our leader, Hunter, but even Rex struggled with the war. He always had our general... until he didn't, but he's back now, and they make it work. You're younger than Rex. And, you're different. You weren't trained for this." Not fully untrue, but Hunter doesn't feel any better.
Hearing Echo apologize eases something in him, reminds him that maybe there – there is somebody who wants him but it makes him sick all the same, because Echo's not supposed to apologize.
Hunter looks away, nodding a little – he feels rubbed raw and tired in all the wrong ways. He wants to sleep. Should focus. Ask what's happening.
"If you're ready, we should come down," Echo says, and Hunter spots his hand again, laying one of his over it.
He moves to get up, because that's what he's supposed to do, but Echo tugs him back down, twisting to look him in the eye. His face is soft.
Their eyes meet, and Echo lifts his arm to pull Hunter into a hug. It's awkward, and they haven't hugged in ages but Hunter sinks into it instantly, clinging to Echo and burying his face in his shoulder. Tries not to make his desperation obvious, but he needs him needs this and he's so long forgotten how it feels to be taken care of.
Not that he really ever has been, but Echo cares about him, and that knowledge is overwhelmingly relieving enough, even if it does so little to satisfy the emptiness in his heart.
It's still everything and a little bit of something and Hunter takes what he gets.
Crosshair made him good at that.
**w**
They head back for the ship some minutes later, and the others are already waiting inside. Wrecker's behind the co-pilot seat, and Crosshair is slouched in the seat beside him, arms crossed and stubbornly avoiding Hunter's gaze. He tries not to let it hurt.
Emerie's in the co-pilot seat, and Hunter looks around before very, very awkwardly inviting himself into the pilot's chair.
Omega's standing by Wrecker, holding his ridiculously huge hand in her ridiculously tiny one. Hunter's missed seeing them together so much. She looks more content in civilian clothes.
Wrecker and Omega are throwing worried glances at Hunter when they think he's not looking.
Echo leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching. Observing.
They're still... empty. Something's missing. (Someone's missing. Tech is missing. Hunter left him.)
Emerie turns to face them. "I know we are all hiding things from each other," she starts – her voice is so much like Tech he wants to cry again. "That's not what family is. We're supposed to trust each other." How Emerie knows about family when she never grew up with one, Hunter doesn't know, but he trusts her.
Instantly, Crosshair's words in the cell come to mind. He was trying to say something he never brought up again, and Hunter wants to know what, though he's hardly thought about it over the past few days with all he's been trying to avoid Crosshair. (The panic's still here. He's still expecting to get stabbed the moment he looks away, and he hates himself for it. If Crosshair wanted to hurt him, he would have.)
"After... earlier," Emerie continues, "I believe if we try to talk, we could have avoided this. There are things none of us want to tell each other."
It's a fair enough point, but it's not as though it matters. He always keeps moving. Always gets back up, no matter how impossible it is. His brothers need him.
Hunter bites his lip, waiting. He doesn't know what to say, and he doesn't think anyone else does, either. She's right. There are things they all struggle with and never talk about. It's never been important, but... Hunter always wanted to know and help. Oh, so much for that – he can't help anything or anyone even if their lives depend on it.
"I ate the last of the Wookie cookies," Wrecker announces.
Well, everybody knew that, Wrecker, Tech's voice says in his head, and Hunter winces.
"And you think we didn't know that?" Crosshair grumbles. Omega watches blankly. Hunter rolls his eyes, and Echo just laughs.
"She means important things," he informs, "Not who stole who's food."
"Perhaps we should go in order," Emerie interjects, their conversation clearly going over her head. "I would say Hunter should go first, considering the circumstances."
His heart skips a beat. "I – I don't have anything to say." He doesn't hide things. Not important things, not – things his brothers need to know. Usually. Unless he has to, and he doesn't...
"Hunter," she says again, softly, gently enough he thinks he could cry from it. "I know you're struggling, but you don't have too alone."
His heart is pounding. He feels cold. His hands are freezing. He's been cold ever since Tantiss.
She doesn't understand. He does have to. That's what he is. "You don't understand. That's what I do."
"No, I don't," she agrees, "But you showed me I could be someone else, too. If your role is hurting you, we need to help you. We're a family. Our ranks don't matter anymore, Hunter. We're free."
"But – if they don't, then... what am I?" Emerie doesn't understand that – she's not a soldier. Hunter doesn't know how to live another life. He never worried about himself – it was always about avoiding the fight and protecting his family. He was made for war. Even if he can be more, he always has to be the one to look out for them. That's – what he was made for.
His heart is pounding again. His chest is uncomfortably warm even if it doesn't hurt, no matter how the rest of him is freezing. He can't say he can't, even if it's true, because that's weak and he can't admit weakness, but genuinely he – this was his purpose. It's what kept them alive all this time he can't be anything else it's what they need stars –
"You are not an object," Emerie tells him fiercely, "Do not call yourself one. You are our brother, and I want you safe as much as them." She nods pointedly at Omega and the twins.
He feels lightheaded. Unreal. He's wanted to hear this for so long. He's been selfishly waiting and wanting someone to say that, even if he knows no one has time or reason for it. He shouldn't want it. He's supposed to take care of them, and he can never do anything else. That's his purpose, and he still has to – to –
He wants to believe her, but he's scared too because it's all wrong.
"I have to keep them safe," Hunter argues.
"And maybe we need to keep you safe, too," Omega ventures, and he turns to her instantly, biting his lip. Stars, Omega knows what a mess he is. He feels so, so exposed here – Omega was never supposed to know that. It was so easy with her, because she was special and different and she never saw him for who he really was. It helped to have someone looking up to him after Crosshair ripped him apart and rubbed in his face how much he failed. It gave him something to believe in.
Someone to believe in him.
Until that went downhill, too, after he failed on Kamino and Hunter started questioning his every move.
Nothing has been alright since Kamino.
Their time with Omega means everything to him, but he can't remember a time he wasn't drowning in crushing depression.
(She's gonna walk away someday, too, won't she? Even if she means everything to him.)
"She's right," Echo agrees with the same fierce certainty as earlier, "I know it's easy for me to say, but you're not soldiers anymore. You want a normal life. That means you'll have to let it go, too."
Hunter can't accept that, but he nods anyway.
They shouldn't know. It shouldn't matter. Their knowing isn't supposed to help. It won't help – it's supposed to be something he fixes on his own, because he always has to.
Hunter looks to the rest of his siblings, mind scrambling to think of something to say – he doesn't know of anything he did that could've hurt them, except Crosshair, and that's not something he even knows how to approach anymore.
Echo? Not that he knows.
Omega – he needs to apologize, desperately, for having failed her so badly but trying to make up for it is easier. He knows she doesn't blame him.
Crosshair hurt him, but he feels awful about it. Hunter has no right to make it worse. Omega only – she just wanted to help. Doesn't matter if he was never included on that list. The same for Echo.
And Wrecker doesn't hide things. There's nothing he could or should've done different. Wrecker's just trying to look after Crosshair, which is more important, anyway.
Crosshair's arms and wings wrapped around himself, curled and trying to disappear.
Hunter feels sick.
Nothing was worth making him feel like that.
He has to make up for this. He's not worth anyone's pain. Especially not Crosshair's. Not his little brother's.
"Crosshair?" he asks quietly. His little brother twitches away. What's he thinking why's he even trying he'll just make this worse why – "I shouldn't've yelled at you."
"But you did," he snarls back, glaring.
Hunter tries not to flinch. Crosshair's not angry. If he were, he'd already have successfully reduced him to tears. "You think I'll leave again if you make me, but I won't," Hunter promises. "I've made that mistake enough times. I'm not doing it again."
They all know he means Tech.
Omega's hand squeezes over Wrecker's, resting them on his thigh, as she settles onto the floor beside him.
Crosshair shifts forward, half making to stand.
"You want to sort this out here?" Echo queries, "Or alone?"
"Here's fine," Hunter mutters.
Omega looks up at him, her eyes wide and worried, extending her hand.
Hunter slides off his chair, sitting beside her and taking her proffered hand. It's small, but it's so, so warm. It's relieving, soaking through him.
"Crosshair?" he asks finally, because he knows he's still angry. He'll hafta get it out to let it go, whatever it is and no matter how much it hurts. Hunter owes him that. "I know there's a lot of things you need to say." Crosshair was saying something in the cell, and it was important. He needs to know what it was.
"'member that scar on Tech's arm?" he asks, rolling his shoulders. "I might've bit him."
"You bit Tech?" Wrecker asks, sounding unreasonably wounded.
"I already knew that," Hunter grumbles, "I've been bitten by you enough times to know what your teeth marks look like." Doesn't know how he got Tech's arm in his mouth that far, though it's not like it matters. "Why are we talking about something that happened five years ago?"
"You said things I'm not telling you."
Crosshair's just trying to make him react now. He's missed this and it's a blatant reminder of who and what they've lost. Hunter's not who he used to be. He doesn't know how to take it anymore. Hunter's the one who let it fall apart. He should've done – something and he doesn't know how to make this right and he doesn't even know how to try anymore.
Genuinely, he just wants to cry.
(He wants to curl up in someone's arms and let them make it stop hurting. He doesn't get that. He never will. He's – not worth it.)
He doesn't know how to promise Crosshair he doesn't mind being touched. It's just... he can't stop panicking. That's not Crosshair's fault. (He's still the one who started this. He started all of it and he – he ripped their family to shreds and destroyed Hunter's every desperate attempt of keeping them together. Hunter tried so hard. He should've – done better but so should Crosshair. He doesn't get to just – come back and pretend nothing happened. That he didn't leave or shoot Wrecker – his own twin brother – or nearly kill Tech. He nearly killed all of them, and – why? How could he do this? What did Hunter do to make him?)
Hunter sighs. "It's fine, Crosshair," he says finally. He's self-conscious about this, too, but they were all right there in the argument. They're family. They're used to each other's struggles, and they all know how to help. Or, they did. None of what used to be true is anymore. (Something's wrong. Hunter doesn't know why he thinks so, just...)
"Don't lie to me," he snaps back.
"If you want to stay by me, I don't mind."
"Then what's wrong?" Crosshair bursts out, jumping up. "You said –"
"I don't know how to stop it," he confesses, "I just – react when... you're close to me. I can't stop it." He feels sick, but there, it's finally out. Hunter can't look at him. Can't look at anyone. He's being so selfish.
Echo shifts forward, crouching. "That's not your fault, Hunter," he promises, "I have the same issue with droids."
But Crosshair's not a droid. He deserves so much better. He's been through hell and back and Hunter isn't doing anything to make it easier for him. He's not even trying when that's all he's supposed to do.
"It'll take time for your mind to catch up," Echo replies, "But he's here now. That's what matters."
Yeah, it is, and Hunter knows that. It doesn't stop the emptiness or how much everything hurts and almost his entire family is here, even the one he never knew was missing. That should be enough. That should be all he needs.
He's so tired. He doesn't want to get back up, but...
"It will take time to adapt," Tech's voice says in his head, and Hunter twitches.
"I know," he sighs.
"Did ya hear that?" Wrecker asks.
"Hear what?" Omega's head whips up to him.
"I thought I heard... someone."
"Tech," Hunter answers. A sharp silence instantly settles over them.
"Hunter," Echo interjects quietly, "I know you want to believe he's alive, but –"
"I know he's alive," Hunter promises firmly. That was Tech. He saw him. "He was on Tantiss, just like I thought. It was him."
"Hearing his voice doesn't mean anything," Echo argues – he knows, because Hunter told him, no matter how reluctant he'd been to accept it. He was too afraid to hope, and Hunter understands that. "I hear voices, too."
All of them freeze.
"I hear someone," Echo continues when everyone looks at him, "My brother. Fives. I hear him all the time, but he's..."
Hunter's heart skips a beat.
That reg they saw on Tantiss. The one with Wrecker. Hunter saw him so fast, he couldn't place his familiarity, but there was something. The tattoo – he remembers. "Echo," he offers slowly, "I don't know, but... there was someone else we saw there."
Echo blinks at him, then rocks back on his feet and stands. "Don't," he snaps, "Don't try to make me hope."
Hunter does. He wants Echo to get his twin brother back. They're – twins. They deserve to be together, the same for Wrecker and Crosshair. They're never meant to be apart. They're only whole when they're together, and Echo deserves to have Fives back.
"I'm sorry we couldn't sooner," he replies, "And that we left him there, but he said he knew you'd come for him." He believes in you, Hunter wants to say, because he knows what that would mean to Echo, but he won't because he can't be fully certain they're the same. He's seen holos of Fives, though. It's him. He can't believe it took so long to remember.
He had wings, too. Hunter recognized him as safe, but he wasn't one of the brothers he grew up with and he hadn't been thinking clearly.
Echo sighs, turning away. Omega moves to stand, but Hunter tugs her back down – Echo needs a moment to himself right now. Emerie glances at them before following their older brother out of the room. He's in shock, Hunter thinks. He's not angry. Echo doesn't really get angry at his siblings. (Well, a few fistfights don't count. They were playful and half Tech-induced.)
"Let him go," Hunter says quietly, squeezing Omega's hand.
Crosshair sits beside him with a sigh, still not looking, but there.
The silence that lapses is comfortable, at least somewhat. Hunter's too exhausted for his mind to keep running in circles right now, though he still thinks he could sleep a week. (Crosshair's reaction calmed something in him, and Hunter hates that, but still – he wanted to know Crosshair didn't mean it. He needed to, and that's so messed up. He's so messed up there's something wrong with him why's he like this why –)
Hunter doesn't remember dozing against the wall – he's only missed a few nights what is wrong with him it's no big deal – when he feels Crosshair's head on his thigh. He freezes, looking down. Crosshair's curled up against him, and Hunter's wings flutter a little. He doesn't know if he means it when his left unfolds to press over Crosshair's back, stroking his wings with their feathery warmth, but he tries to.
His mind keeps going back to what Crosshair was saying in the cell. Keeps wondering. "What were you trying to tell me?" Hunter asks finally. "Back in the cell?"
"Mm." Crosshair snuggles closer. He looks comfortable. Hunter smiles faintly. "You're comfortable."
He snorts. "That's not what you were saying."
Crosshair's tense. His lips part soundlessly, and Hunter just watches, waiting. He looks briefly in Wrecker's direction before decision finally settles over him.
Something beeps on the control panel.
Wrecker stands to look at it, and Hunter feels a crashing oceanwave of a very, very familiar metallic, smoothness. The same overwhelming and ceaseless gentleness.
"Uh, Hunter?" Wrecker says worriedly, "There's a ship comin' in."
Hunter's heart is pounding again. He half shoves Crosshair off him, trying to be mindful of how movement hurts. He grabs his helmet and makes for the door. The Empire's here, somehow, and they have to move.
"Tech."
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