Chapter 23 - Take Me For That Road (Post-S1)

Author's Note: Warning: Suicidal thoughts, overall depression.

~ Rivana Rita

I'm nearly caught painting Crosshair's helmet. I finally manage to finish the final touches, and I've been hiding it in Cid's parlor under her desk. I have no idea how we've managed to hide it for so many weeks, but somehow, I have, and I'm not about to blow cover yet.

I want Crosshair to be the first to see it, which is stupid, because I doubt he ever will.

I think I blabbered over Tech and Omega's attempted questions, and Hunter and Wrecker are luckily considerate enough not to press. I think they knew something's up, but at least I'm talking, so they let it slide.

Sneaking it back to the Marauder is another different case of ugh, but I'm not leaving it out here any longer. Now, I need to figure out what in the galaxy I'm doing with the rest of his armor.

We can repaint it properly, but we won't have to worry about that yet. Or for quite a while. The amount of time I spend wondering what Crosshair's reaction would be is almost insane, though.

**w**

I want everything to stop hurting.

I want to stop feeling like I'm losing it.

I just want Crosshair back.

How hard could it be for him to accept that he made a mistake? I told him that. I tried. We all did – we tried telling him it didn't matter if he made a mistake, because we were still... there. Wrecker told him that. So did Omega. Even Hunter tried. What more could he have wanted from us? How couldn't he have figured that out by now?

Like. I get contacting us would be awkward, but why? Why couldn't he come home? Why hasn't he wouldn't he even try? He's our brother. I know him. He might be stubborn to death, but he still knows when he's wrong. We're soldiers. We can't afford to be stubborn and get ourselves killed.

He saved my life. He pulled me out of the ocean when he didn't have to. He could have left me in there. Could've left me to die. Or even for a minute until Hunter was ready to take me, but he did it himself, and I don't know what to make of that.

He – he'll realize he made a mistake and come back, right? Can't be that hard. Can't be that long... I can't believe my vision of us together was really nothing. They've never been wrong before.

**w**

I've seen how depressed Hunter is. He's uncertain in himself, and it's – it scares me. He shouldn't be. He's our leader. He's not supposed to feel like that. I trust him, but if he doesn't trust himself, it's... hard. He's not supposed to struggle. If he needs help, I wish he'd just ask. Wish he felt comfortable enough to. Wish he trusted me enough to, but I'm the idiot who made everything worse, so I have no right to complain. I'm the reason this happened. All of it.

**w**

Omega still dreams of Bracca. Of Kamino. Maybe both. I don't know, but I try to be there whenever she needs me, but lately... it feels like she prefers to deal with it in silence. It drives me crazy. She shouldn't feel like that. She's important to all of us.

Or maybe it's just me and that it's impossible for anyone to be comfortable with me anymore. Not after what I did. Am. What-ever. Maybe I'm just too much like Crosshair.

It's not like she's the only one who dreams, though. We all do. Between that and stumbling and slipping up at random on missions. I don't know why, but I let it slide, trying to cover for my brothers whenever I can. We all have our struggles. I don't hold it against any one of them.

**w**

Stumbling around with a he'll be back any day, right, he's going to admit he screwed up he'll come home that's all there is for him ringing around in my head is driving me into rapid insanity.

I can't stop wondering how he felt. I wish I'd actually talked to him, like Omega had asked me to. I want to go back and change everything. I want to know how he felt, what I could've said to make it better.

Even what I couldn't've said to make it worse.

I'm terrified of being alone, though I never have been the same way he was. Someone hurt him. I can't imagine what it was like without us – I know how hard it is to survive. I've seen how the regs treated them. They wouldn't have been any kinder to Crosshair just because he was alone. I want to help him. I don't want to have to never see him again while knowing that he was hurt when he left us. I – I don't want him to have been hurt. I want him to accept us. I just don't... want it to feel like this.

I don't want him to be out there, alone and hurt and lost and totally insane.

Why am I even thinking about this?

Of course, I'll see him again. I Saw it. My visions aren't wrong. (What if they were, what if –)

**w**

"Come on!" I whine, slamming my hand on the 'fresher door. "How long have you already been in there?!"

"Most of my limbs are metal, Vision," Echo calls back, dryly.

"It's already been a hundred thousand hours!"

"That is impossible," Tech announces, "Seeing as that is approximately how long he has been alive."

"WHAT?" I screech.

"That is over eleven years," Tech informs me.

"Ugh, whatever! I really don't care if Echo spent his entire life in the 'fresher or not. I sort of just. Need it like. Right now!"

I distinctly hear Echo laughing at me.

Meanie.

**w**

For some reason, this time, when I dream, it's... different. I have no idea how long it's been since Kamino.

I see Crosshair, but he looks... different. Maybe a little older, and everything is so bright. I feel happy, at peace, and I can't remember the last time I actually felt like that.

I push myself upright, climbing past Omega after grabbing the picture I still sleep beside and out of the gunner's mount, sitting lightly on the seat that's normally Hunter's.

I turn the screen on, staring at the bright lighted image of our brothers standing together.

I still remember it when I took this. I remember how it was to be together. The only thing I've ever wanted was to be with them, and I know the same is true for all of us, so why...? How could Crosshair have done this to us? I remember this. He was happy. He certainly wasn't discontented.

The only thing I hate worse than seeing him in my dreams is hearing his voice, his laughter, and I can still hear it in my head.

Doesn't matter if I've only heard it a few times. I remember it vividly.

I haven't looked at this since Kamino – I remember Crosshair's armor by memory enough to picture it, so I didn't need it to figure out how to repaint it. I've thought about it all the time, but until seeing it again, I haven't wanted to take the time, no matter how much I thought about it.

A quiet sound beside me makes me freeze.

It's Hunter. I can tell even without looking up in the same way I always can, and I sometimes wish I hadn't. I'm supposed to See. I should've known when Crosshair started doubting, started struggling.

Hunter's awake right now, and I'm guessing this was one of the times that he wasn't able to sleep at all.

My hands tighten over the rim. "Hey," I whisper, looking up.

He's crying.

It's quiet, but it's there, and I can see it.

I feel sick.

I feel cold.

Everything feels cold.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, tears suddenly in my own eyes, "I didn't know you were up."

Hunter shuffles closer to me, lightly touching my shoulder, and I lean into it, not looking up. I don't think he'd want me to watch. "I didn't know you still had this," he says finally. He sounds too even. Level. Not angry, just – calm. Not shaky like he ought to.

"Of course, I do," I mutter, blinking a few times. "I know what it meant to all of us. What it meant to me. I remember that. I think about it all the time. I – I wanna know how long it'll be before he finally figures it out. That he was wrong. How long it'll be before he..."

Hunter sits down beside me. I briefly glance up at him – his eyes are still wet, but he's way too quickly made himself calm. Temporarily forced, no doubt. I've been there before. "Vision," he says softly.

I lift my head to meet his gaze, saying, wiping my eyes on my sleeve so I can see his face as the blue light throws a too-bright glow across his face. The wetness in his eyes reflects stronger.

"I know what you want to believe, Vision," he says, voice rough. "But he's not coming back."

I think that's when it finally sinks in. I've been living in denial all this time, because I can't let it go. Because at the end of the day, Crosshair made his choice, and so did we. Just like Hunter had told him back on Kamino. He isn't coming back. I'm not going to see him again. To tell myself anything else is a lie.

Everything I've been hanging onto is just... hope. And I don't even know why, because it's never gonna happen.

It's gone. Everything's gone. I wanna go home, but we don't even have that.

I look down at the picture again, inhaling shakily as the tears start spilling down my face.

"All I want is to see him again."

"I know," Hunter replies, soothingly, "Me too."

The picture is blurred through my tears, but I can still see Crosshair's face. That's the last thing I see of it before I shut it off, this time for good.

I can't keep lying to myself if I'm going to protect Omega, if we're all going to survive. I will never be able to move on. I don't know if I'll ever be able to accept it, but I know Hunter's right. Crosshair made it obvious that he had no intention of even reconsidering. He knew what the Empire's doing. He knows what him leaving would do to us, and he didn't care.

Because to him, we're expendable, and he's the only one who isn't.

I wish I could hate him, but all I can feel is a crushing, gutting pain. Maybe I just needed Hunter to give me permission to accept it, because suddenly, I feel so stupid. I should've known from the start. It was all so obvious that there was no going back. I'm so, so tired of seeing him. Everything I've tried to deal by doing was for nothing. There's no way to deal. It was all a lie, me trying to delude myself with hope because I am absolutely the greatest idiot known to all of clone kind, except you know, maybe Crosshair.

I had a dream, and I based everything on that.

I can't trust myself any more than Hunter can, and maybe he's not all wrong for that if he really trusted me. You'd have to be crazy too.

I don't know what's wrong with me, if I'm irreparably brokenly defective or screwed up or just a – a something.

I thought I could get Crosshair back, that there was something to wait for, and I have no idea why. I was supposed to see –

I failed them. I should have known.

"I'm sorry I let you hope." I draw my knees onto the chair edge, hugging the picture against my chest. Hunter's hand is on my shoulder, warm and grounding, but I don't look up. My shoulders are shaking from suppressed sobs.

I wanted to believe in him. I couldn't let go, and I still can't, but I know the truth as much as I know I'm living and don't want to.

Crosshair's gone.

He's not coming back.

I don't want to see him again. I don't want to have to worry about him every moment of every day when I know he never worried about us. He was always about what we could be for him, not who he could be for us.

Maybe I shouldn't ask anything of him, but that doesn't make this right.

I don't want to dream if all I'll see is Crosshair. I don't want to See anything. I'm tired of nightmares.

I can feel it as something changes inside me, growing cold and distant. I feel it as a bit of warmth fades away, even if I don't know what it means. I don't really care either. I just want to sleep.

**w**

I don't dream. It's the first night in what must be months by now. I don't know how long it's been.

I saw Hunter crying.

Crosshair isn't coming back.

I'm still holding the picture, and I turn it over in my hands again. It feels wrong to hold. It's a time long gone, just like Crosshair himself. There's no reason to keep it around to haunt me. I move to the back, and I think there's at least three pairs of eyes watching me as I move in search of Crosshair's crate, still stashed in the storage hold. I flip the top open, gut clenching as I see his armor again. I'll never get to see it on him again, not as if he deserves to wear it.

I want to say something, maybe a final goodbye. That I love him, that I miss him, I want to see him again... but all of that feels fake, and Crosshair never said the same to us. I slide the picture in wordlessly, letting it drop beside his helmet, and close it.

That leaves me feeling even emptier than I already do. I can't continue like this, though. I can't live when there's nothing to live for.

Hunter's the first one I see again, and I nod to him, moving up front. Nothing to see out the viewport that I haven't seen a thousand times, though – we're on Ord Mantell still.

"So," I say instead, spinning around to look up at Hunter. I can't See the smokiness I always do with my eyes closed, and I feel cold, but I don't think about it. "What're we eating this morning? Hopefully not each other?"

**w**

I check the calendar on Tech's datapad that I stole when he didn't need it – as if he ever really does. I count it once. Blink at it blankly and count it again.

It's been thirty-two days since we came to Kamino. It's the morning of the thirty-second now. No wonder it feels like a lifetime. It's been almost a month. That's forever. And... the anniversary of our first meeting is coming up in a couple of weeks. I used to think that would be a day of celebration, of chaos, but I'm never going to be able to do that now. I could mention it, and the words are itching in the back of my throat, but nothing comes out, not even when I spot 'mega watching me.

**w**

I don't actually realize what's wrong until we're on our next mission. Hunter asks me to Look like he often does, but when I try, it's like running into a wall. I just can't do it.

I bite my lip, panic clawing its way up into my chest. I can't See anymore. I can't – that's what I was made for. Nothing else. And I can't do it. "I – I can't," I say finally, opening my eyes. Hunter's frowning a little, brows furrowed with worry. "I can't See."

"That's okay," Omega assures, patting my shoulder, "That happens."

"No, that's not what I mean," I argue, shaking my head. Maybe I shouldn't tell them, and it feels so stupid too – what's the point of keeping me around, if I can't even do the one thing I have to? But I can't lie to them, either. This is important. "I can't See. Like. can't can't. I – I don't know why or what it means."

"But that is your ability," Tech points out, "You have used the Force before even more actively."

I frown, flicking a hand towards a small rock, because Jedi are supposed to be able to move things, and I have before, too. I should feel the warm burning in my palm and fingers, even if nothing happens and it's not enough to change anything. Instead, all I feel is... nothing. Cold. I'm too scared to try. "I can't," I whisper again, tears pricking my eyes. What's wrong with me? Why is this happening? What is wrong with me? How am I this defective?

"Vision," Hunter says firmly, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me to look at him. I am, but I can't focus, and I can't See the smokiness, and am I dying what if I die will I ever get off this planet I'm so useless what is wrong with me I need – "Look at me," he requests. I think he's talking, but his words are lost in a storm.

I'm trying, but I can't, and there's a pressure in my chest as I inhale in ragged gasps. Can't breathe out – I'm gasping like I can't breathe, like I'm drinking an ocean full of air, and I remember the water and the darkness as it closed over me and the panic that I'd never get out that Omega and I would die and I can't breathe and I can't –

"Viz!" Omega yells, shaking my shoulder. "Vision! Breathe!"

I can't. I'm trying. I am, really, but I can't – it's so hard, so – I don't know what I'm doing don't know what's wrong with me don't –

Wrecker lifts me into his arms.

I know it's him because his hands are huge and there's no one who feels quite like him, and I throw my arms around his neck, gasping. Someone's hand is on my back and Omega's fingers are tangled into mine. Her hand is burning. Maybe I'm just cold.

"It's okay," Wrecker tries soothing, and his voice is loud enough for me to hear.

I hear muffled talking in the background from a distance, through a haze, but gradually, with their hands and their warmth, I can find myself fading back in. I'm so tired though. I feel like I could sleep for a decade. That's probably true anyway, though.

Hunter pulls me back to look at him, and I raise my head, blinking at him through my tears. "Hey," he says, fingers brushing across my shoulder. "Do you want to rest?"

I nod shakily, tears still falling down my face, but I'm so tired. "Yeah. Please."

Wrecker hoists me up without a word, carrying me back home. Back into safety and warmth.

**w**

I can't See, because I – I don't want to, I realize. I didn't want to See Crosshair anymore, which automatically comes with everything else. I'm so tired that I genuinely can't even care. I'll find other ways to be useful. I – I have to.

My hands are twisting together nervously, and I push myself up when I hear the others finally returning, mission accomplished. Without me, obviously. They didn't need more now more than they ever do, and that hurts.

"Are you feeling better?" Hunter asks, offering me a forced smile.

I nod, biting my lip. "I – I'm sorry," I say, tightening one hand over the other to the point of painful.

"What happened?" Echo inquires. They're all approaching me now, and Lula catches my gaze. I scoop her into my arms, holding her tightly. My droid head is sitting by my leg.

"I think I broke something," I attempt explaining. "A couple days ago, when... I was so tired of Seeing and I think I broke something in my mind." I wave a hand in the air, dropping it onto my leg again. I'm so tired. I'm so – I don't want to sit still.

"You were still having those visions?" Tech inquires. Oh, right. He's the only one I told.

"Yeah."

"What visions?" Hunter asks, turning to him.

"I did not ask for clarifications," Tech responds, "But she informed me she had been having visions of Crosshair. She believed he might have been... in danger."

"It doesn't matter," I say loudly as everyone's heads swivel back to face me. "He's gone."

"I don't understand. Visions were your ability," Echo frowns, "How could that be broken? It's a mutation, isn't it?"

"It is not, technically," Tech replies, "It is a specific range of Force-ability, which is extremely rare. The normal version of this is to see into the past."

Huh. Don't know what good that does, though. Why see the past if you can't change it? "I know we counted on my abilities all the time," I continue, biting my lip again. "I'm sorry I did this. I – I didn't know what it would mean. I'm useless now."

"You are not useless," Echo tells me fiercely, stepping up to the edge of the ladder. I set Lula down, propping her up against the wall, fingers pressed against the metal floor.

"Then... what am I?"

Omega climbs the ladder, hand over mine. It usually helps, but right now, I can't feel anything. "I told you before. You will always be my sister. It doesn't matter what you did, or what you are."

What does that mean for Crosshair? Doesn't matter now, though.

"If I can't do anything, how does that matter?"

"It will sufficiently limit your abilities," Tech says bluntly, and Wrecker shoves him. That just makes it hurt even more. I don't want them to fight. Not because of me.

"Then... what makes me special?" I ask. I feel numb inside. I don't think I can feel anything anymore. I won't be able to see danger, won't be able to help on missions, even if all I've ever been able to do is very little things. Useless things.

Hunter looks away. I don't think he even knows, and that makes it hurt even more.

"That you care," Echo answers instead, "You wanted to be with us when you could have been anywhere else. I have only seen one other who cares in... much the way you do. Who understands so well."

"That's it?" I ask, expression scrunching a bit. "I... know stuff?"

"You understand people," Echo repeats, "You understand us. We were never raised to... feel. It was you who let us know we could be more." He's looking at me with a sharp intensity in his eyes, and I wish I knew what to say to it. I don't.

Instead, I jump off the gunner's mount into Echo's arm, His arm comes around my back and I bury my face in his neck. "'m sorry," I say, anyway, "For bein' so useless."

"You aren't," Echo promises me firmly. "And even if you were, I can say I wouldn't care."

I want to believe him. I can't. I nod against his neck though. If they think I can help in... other ways, then... I guess I need to try. I can't let them worry about me. They shouldn't have to.

I'm not worth it.

**w**

Today is the anniversary. The one I've been waiting for and dreading for so long. The one I thought could be happy, could mean something, could be – when we met, I thought we could be together for this. This is something to celebrate, and Echo's joining anniversary is coming up fast, too.

Omega knows the day the same time as me, and she shakes my shoulder with a much too bright smile for the crushing depression and emptiness I feel.

How things have changed.

I used to wake everyone else up, bouncing all over because I couldn't sleep, and now? I just want to be left alone in my own little, miserable hole. Leave me here, let me die.

The one thing I would very much like everyone to understand nice and well this morning is that I want to left alone.

Or thrown out an airlock. That works, too.

I don't feel like the same person who joined them. I'm not the same Vision who my brothers were so happy to take in, who Crosshair even... Anything. I'm not even the one he saved. I'm something else, something irreparably fractured and broken, and I shouldn't be living this day when she couldn't.

She was young. Naïve. Stupid. So, so stupid. I should've just gone after Crosshair, should have done something. I could have asked to go back. Found a way back, and now, we'll never know if he's still there, if he needs us, but really? The Empire wouldn't have left him there a month. They're awful, but they're not as stupid as I am.

"Vision, come on!" Omega urges, shaking me a little.

"No," I say flatly, refusing to move.

She sits down beside me. She's probably sullen. Hurt. Just another thing to hate myself for. Another thing I screwed up. "I'm sorry," Omega confesses, "I thought you'd be excited."

"Excited for what?" I snap back, head whipping up. "I thought I could take you home, that we could be together!"

"You did," she insists, "And we are."

I throw her a sideways look. "Not all of us."

"I miss him, too," Omega confesses, leaning her head on my shoulder. "I thought we could be together. But... we have some of us, and we've been alone for so long..."

She doesn't understand. No one does. I knew Crosshair. I was with him, and I can't forget it. I cannot forget what and who we were. "I don't care. I thought we could be together, and I was wrong."

"I'm sorry," she whispers thickly, and I turn my head away. I can't bear to look at her. She wanted to celebrate this, but I just – I can't. I should. Get up and be goofy. I'm so selfish. Omega always holds firm for me, but when she needs me? I'm nowhere.

"Was it hard?" I ask finally, "Being alone? Knowing you'd come back at night, and I wouldn't be there?" We've never really talked about this before. It isn't something I wanna think about.

"Yeah," Omega answers finally, "But... I knew you were safe. I knew you were happy to be with our brothers." Because I could find home before she did. I ought to be happy for her now, that she can feel safe and protected and at home here, but I can't. I never will again. Not without Crosshair.

(Does he feel – anything? Is he alone? Is he hurt? What if something happens to him? That would be on me. Because I turned my back on him when he needed me. Not as though he didn't walk away first.)

I wonder if this is special to them. If it matters at all. If Crosshair would even care, if he was with us. If he ever has. If... all that was fake.

It doesn't feel like it could have been.

I remember his hand on my hair. Remember his warmth.

How could that have been a lie?

Oh, I met Anakin almost a year ago. Anakin, who is probably dead, too. Just like the old me. I'm never going to get back the only person I thought could understand me, who was special and different like me. I wish I could see him again. I wonder if he were alive, where he'd be, if he'd feel as lonely and lifeless and I do.

"I don't want to talk," I whisper, lowering my head again. "I thought maybe we'd get to have today together. That we could just – I thought we'd have each other, that maybe I'd have found a way to bring you back, that... why is it always my job to bring everyone back together?" I look up at her helplessly, and Omega strokes my arm.

"It's not," she promises, "That's mine."

"Then what else am I good for? I can't protect you. I can't protect anybody."

"Then we can figure it out together," Omega offers, "Like we always have."

I wish I could believe her. (I don't.)

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