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Wrecker watches as Hunter talks to Crosshair about chances; watches as Omega says her piece too. He watches them both walk away; watches Crosshair turn his back – he’s really not coming with them then. That’s… that’s okay. Well, it’s not, but if it’s what Crosshair wants, then that’s how it is. But like hell Wrecker’s leaving without at least saying goodbye.
He bounds back down the ramp of the ship after Omega’s inside, before Hunter can come in after her and close up the ramp. Jogs across the platform, because he needs to be quick so Crosshair doesn’t dodge him, but not so fast to surprise him and trigger some kinda reflex. Crosshair turns back to face him but doesn’t have time to move away or counter before Wrecker’s got him wrapped up in a hug. He does fight though.
“Sh, not attacking ya!” Wrecker tells him, “Just a hug, okay? ‘n I’m not gonna ask again if you wanna come with us, I promise. I just—wanna say goodbye properly. Okay?”
Crosshair doesn’t respond, but he stops trying to get out of Wrecker’s hold at least.
“Thanks,” Wrecker says, because he knows Crosshair is only humoring him. “I’ll miss you, you know?” Wrecker starts. He’s got some things he wants to say, but that’s the most important one. “We all will. And I’m sorry ‘bout what I said before, in the tunnel. I didn’t mean to be—I’m not angry at you. I just wanted to understand, because I know you didn’t have a choice, ‘cause of the chip, but then you said it’s gone, and I just thought you’d want to come back then, but you didn’t even try, and—”
“I did.”
The words are muffled. Crosshair’s still not hugging Wrecker back or anything, but he’s put his face against Wrecker’s shoulder, talking into his armor. “You… did?” Wrecker asks, when Crosshair doesn’t continue. “When?”
“On Ryloth. When you freed the Syndullas. Knew you wouldn’t come out through the hangar when we were waiting for you. I tried to signal you, but you didn’t—guess you didn’t notice.”
“Oh,” is all Wrecker can say for a moment because—he hadn’t thought of that. Hadn’t thought that maybe Crosshair had tried to get to them but couldn’t.
“And how did you expect me to come back, anyway?” Oh, Crosshair’s angry now. He’s all tense in Wrecker’s arms again, but he still doesn’t try to move away, not really. “I didn’t know where you were and didn’t have any way to contact you without alerting the Empire and leading them right to you. And it’s a big galaxy, I couldn’t just—leave and hope for the best. The Empire would’ve found me long before I found you. You at least knew where I was, most of the time.” But you didn’t come back for me, Wrecker hears, even though Crosshair doesn’t say it.
“Oh,” Wrecker says again, and hugs Crosshair a little tighter (but not too tight! Still careful, always careful with his brothers). “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of that. And—we really didn’t notice, on Ryloth. Guess we should’ve – you wouldn’t’ve set up all your men in the same place when you knew Hunter would sense them and go somewhere else. Not if you really wanted to catch us. I’m sorry,” he says again. Wrecker wasn’t there for that part; was in the Marauder with Tech, but still. They all should’ve known.
Crosshair doesn’t respond. Not out loud, anyway. But Wrecker—it’s hard to tell, through his armor, but he thinks Crosshair’s arms have moved so he’s hugging Wrecker back now, carefully.
“You know we don’t blame you, right?” Wrecker asks gently, because he knows he needed to hear that after—Bracca. Still doesn’t always believe it, or understand it, but it’s true for him about Crosshair, so.
Crosshair mutters something into his shoulder, too low for Wrecker to really hear it, even though Crosshair is on his good side. It sounds a little like “I tried to kill you.”
Wrecker keeps talking. Crosshair’s arms tighten, making Wrecker’s armor dig into his back uncomfortably. He doesn’t mind, not when it means he gets to hold Crosshair a little longer. “I know you didn’t have a choice, ‘cause of the chip. And then you couldn’t get to us when it was gone, and you were trying to help us now, weren’t you?” Wrecker doesn’t pause long enough for Crosshair to answer. “So, I don’t blame you, and I don’t think the others do either, not really. They just miss you, and everything’s all weird now, being split up, and without the Republic and everything. I miss you too.”
“I shot you,” Crosshair says more clearly.
“Yeah,” Wrecker agrees. He has a scar and everything. “But it wasn’t really you, y’know? It was the chip. You had orders, and you couldn’t not follow them.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I do. I know you. And I know what that chip does – mine activated too, y’know? Not for long, and they stunned me and got it out, but I—” Wrecker breaks off; this is still hard to talk about, even though it all turned out okay in the end. Quietly, he continues, “I nearly killed all of them. Sure tried to.”
Crosshair doesn’t seem to have an answer to that. That’s okay; Wrecker doesn’t know what he’d say either. After a moment, Crosshair’s arms around him tighten enough for Wrecker to feel it through his armor, and he presses his face harder against Wrecker’s shoulder. It’s gotta be at least a little painful.
This was a bad idea, Wrecker realizes. How can he possibly let go of Crosshair now? But they gotta leave soon, before the Empire shows up again, as much as Wrecker really doesn’t want to move. From the way his little brother is almost clinging to him now, it doesn’t feel like he wants Wrecker to go either. “Are you sure—” Wrecker starts but cuts himself off.
“What,” Crosshair says.
“Nothing.”
“Wrecker.”
“No, it’s—I promised I wouldn’t ask again.”
Crosshair sighs and moves his head just enough that he can look over Wrecker’s shoulder. Maybe he’s looking at the others, maybe he’s just—looking. Crosshair doesn’t like not being able to see; Wrecker can feel his own chest puffing up a little with pride at the fact that Crosshair has stood so long with his face – and eyes – hidden in Wrecker’s shoulder. He must still trust Wrecker a lot. Which only makes it even harder for Wrecker to accept that he has to leave Crosshair here, to maybe never see him again—
“Okay,” says Crosshair.
Okay? Okay what? Okay that Wrecker doesn’t ask again, as he promised, even though they both know he wants to? Or okay, he’ll—
Wrecker pulls away a little, just enough that he can look at Crosshair; be sure he hears him right. “Okay…?” he asks.
Crosshair looks past Wrecker, then somewhere around his chin, closing his eyes briefly, before he finally makes eye contact with Wrecker. “Okay,” he says again, “I’ll go with you. Don’t know if the Empire will show any time soon, anyway.”
Even with being able to both see and hear the words, it takes a moment for them to fully register for Wrecker. When they finally do, Wrecker can’t help scooping Crosshair up in his arms again and swinging him around, laughing. “Yeah!” he yells, unable to keep in his excitement. Crosshair’s coming back! He’s coming with them, he really is! Crosshair struggling in his arms pulls him down a little, enough to realize he’s probably crushing his brother. “Oh! Sorry,” he says, sheepish, setting Crosshair back on the ground. “I’m just excited! I really missed you, and now you’re back!” Crosshair grumbles a little but doesn’t move away from Wrecker, so it’s all good. “C’mon,” Wrecker says, and they walk back to the Marauder. Together.
Crosshair’s not entirely sure this is the right decision, but… kriff, it’s hard to argue with the way his body practically melted into Wrecker’s embrace, without his permission, even when he tried to fight it. It’s… He felt safe, still, after everything. And the sight he caught of the others, over Wrecker’s shoulder; how he had expected them to be standing guard, ready to jump in if Crosshair so much as twitched wrong, but instead what he saw was them all watching with varying degrees of wariness, yes, but mostly sadness and… hope?
It gave Crosshair the courage to hope, too.
The kid is as bad as Wrecker, when they board the ship: Jumping and crying her excitement, and if Hunter hadn’t held her back, she probably would have run to hug him too (Crosshair doesn’t want her to hug him and elects to believe Hunter held her back because he knows that too). Echo is quieter, as he always is, and settles for a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder, telling him it’s good to have him back. Tech is already in the cockpit, saying something about the med kit and leaving before the Empire comes back, but Crosshair can see the relaxed set of his shoulders and the fluid movements of his hands as he gets the Marauder ready to go, and that’s enough for him. Hunter… Hunter is still standing by Omega, and he’s smiling at Crosshair, sort of, but…
Crosshair tries not to bristle. Tries not to be disappointed. He’s already gotten more than he thought he would, and more than he probably deserves, he can—he can deal with Hunter not welcoming him with open arms. Even though Hunter did just ask him to come with them, what, a few minutes ago? But he didn’t really seem like he actually wanted Crosshair to take the chance he was offering, so. Whatever. Crosshair will just… stay out of his way, as best he can, it’ll be—fine. Even though the Marauder’s not exactly a big ship.
The others are happy to have him back, that’s more important. Kriff, he’s allowed to come back. With everything that’s happened over the last few hours, everything that’s been said, that really is much more than he expected, even if he can’t help feeling it’s the least of what he’s owed. And so much more that what he deserves. It’s… yeah. He should probably try to work out those feelings but—not now.
Crosshair’s drawn out of his thoughts by Tech lifting the ship off the platform and Wrecker leading him to the jump seats. He doesn’t need the hand on his back to find the way – they’re right there, and this is—was—is his home too – but maybe Wrecker needs the contact; he does that sometimes. Maybe… maybe Crosshair needs it too. At least, the warmth spreading all over his back from that one point of contact feels… nice, even though Crosshair knows, logically, that he can’t actually feel anything but a light pressure through his armor. His armor, which doesn’t seem to be doing much but keeping him cold at the moment. His blacks are soaked from when he was submerged during the bombardment and would’ve drowned, if not for the kid, and with his armor still on over them, they won’t be drying anytime soon. He is, abruptly, freezing.
It’s been a while since he’s been comfortable without his armor; even longer since he’s been in just the blacks around anyone but the scientists and medical personnel, but… these are his brothers. He’s safe here. Right?
“Cross?” Wrecker asks when Crosshair starts fumbling with the clasps on his armor. They’re not all in the right places, and his hands are trembling. Pathetic. “You, uh. What are you doing?” Crosshair manages one boot, then the other; kicks them off with maybe a little more force than necessary. Shin and knee guards are next. He’s fumbling with his gauntlet when Echo places the med-kit in the seat next to him.
“I’m fine,” Crosshair sneers. He doesn’t mean to sneer, it’s not really Echo he’s angry with, as much as it’s—everything else.
“Okay,” Echo says, infuriatingly unflappable, “let me check you over anyway?”
Crosshair does, if only because he knows Echo will keep pestering him about it until he acquiesces (and maybe, just a little, because it’s nice to be fussed about like this).
He’s not hurt, not really. They’re all a bit roughed up, from the fight in the training hall, the bombardment, and the trek through the sinking city, but nothing that won’t heal on its own and with maybe a little help from some bacta gel. Echo’s frown says he thinks differently, but—whatever. He’s fine.
By the time Crosshair’s finally out of all the pieces of his armor he can remove while sitting down, Echo has moved on to fussing about the kid and Hunter has taken over watch in the cockpit, now that Tech has brought them safely into Hyperspace. Tech takes one look at him, shivering in his still-wet blacks, and disappears into the hold. He comes back a moment later with a spare set of blacks – Crosshair’s own, he realizes, when he goes into the tiny ‘fresher to change (he normally wouldn’t bother with the privacy, but there’s the kid, and—). He doesn’t know what that means, that they’ve kept at least some of his things.
Back in his seat, in dry clothes and slowly warming up, Crosshair finds himself dosing off. It all feels so… normal. Regular post-mission wind-down, even with the addition of the kid. Someone – Echo, Crosshair thinks – brings him a blanket at some point; Omega brings him a couple ration bars. Tech sits next to him, quietly clicking away on a datapad, their shoulders knocking together every once in a while. Wrecker tries to shove Lula into his arms but ends up holding onto her himself and just sitting down on Crosshair’s other side, talking to the others about everything and nothing. Hunter—
Hunter is on watch in the cockpit.
Wrecker can’t stop touching Crosshair, it seems, pressing their shoulders close, knocking their feet and knees together, throwing an arm around Crosshair’s shoulders. It keeps Crosshair from nodding off completely, and nearly knocks him out of his seat a couple of times, so Crosshair would tell him to knock it off, or retaliate, but… Whatever. That’s just how Wrecker is; his way of checking in on him, showing his affection. Crosshair can’t really begrudge him that, and – again – it’s just so normal, Crosshair almost doesn’t know what to do with it. With himself.
When Echo is satisfied that everyone in the Marauder’s hull has been seen to and are making themselves comfortable, he goes to yell at Hunter in the cockpit.
Well, not yell-yell, because he knows that’s like torture for Hunter, in more ways than one; because he doesn’t want the others to overhear; and because he knows yelling is only going to make Hunter clam up. He still kind of wants to, though, in the hope that it will finally get through Hunter’s thick skull and all the walls he’s built. It’s not like Echo isn’t sympathetic, but it does make Hunter frustrating to talk to, at times.
Still, he tries a softer approach. “I can take over watch now, if you want to go back there,” he suggests as he sits down in the co-pilot chair.
“It’s alright,” Hunter says, in a tone that’s clearly meant to make Echo think he means it. It doesn’t work. “You go get some rest, Echo, I’ll be fine in here.” Never mind that Hunter very recently fell down a mountain and then was held captive by the Empire, and so definitely is the one between the two of them who needs the rest more. But that’s not what this conversation is about.
“Hunter,” Echo sighs. So much for being nice and subtle about this. “You gotta talk to him sooner or later. The longer you put it off, the harder it’ll be. For both of you.”
To Echo’s surprise – and relief – Hunter doesn’t try to argue that point. “I know,” He sighs instead, “I know. I just—I don’t know what to say to him. He’s… not exactly happy with me right now, and I can’t blame him either. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he’s here, and I don’t really care who or what made him change his mind, I just. Well, he made it pretty clear that he doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“Did he?” Echo asks, because – yeah, Crosshair didn’t run at Hunter with open arms, but he’s Crosshair. If he’d done something like that, they all would’ve thought either someone was dying, or it was a shapeshifter or something like that. Yeah, Crosshair’s been prickly and aggressive throughout this whole mess, but Crosshair’s just like that, especially if he feels cornered. And they weren’t exactly friendly towards him either, were hostile even – with good reason, but even so… Echo thinks, perhaps Crosshair just needed someone to be in his corner, and that’s why he listened to Wrecker but not Hunter. “Or does he just think you don’t want to talk to him?”
That finally has Hunter looking over at him, if only briefly. He sighs again and looks back out at the blue-purple streaks of Hyperspace. “I just… I don’t know what to say to him,” Hunter admits. “I—so much has happened, and he’s clearly hurt, and I don’t—I don’t know what he’s been through, and I hate that I don’t know, and I just want to have him here, safe, but I’m also… I’m still angry with him too, and I don’t understand why he’d chose the Empire over us, or why he’d do any of those things if he really didn’t have his chip.”
“I’m not so sure he did,” Echo says, “choose the Empire over us, I mean. I don’t think he had a choice. But we’ve got time to talk all that out with him now. Later, when feelings aren’t strung so high, and he’s had a full meal or two at least, and we’re sure he hasn’t caught hypothermia or something from being drenched for so long. As for what to say to him… You just told me you’re glad to have him back – tell him that. And maybe thank him for saving your life.” At Hunter’s confused look, Echo asks: “Did you think he saved Omega and AZI for their sakes?”
Hunter does as Echo says, because Echo is right (he almost always is, it’s honestly kind of infuriating at times, not that Hunter would ever admit that). Not right away, though; he needs some time to get the words right in his head, and to just wind down from the whole mess that’s been… everything since getting that call from Rex, sending them to Daro. Besides, Hunter can hear Crosshair’s slow breathing and the steady beat of his heart that tells him that their little brother is, if not fully asleep, then at least close enough that Hunter doesn’t want to disturb him. And he can sense Tech and Wrecker right next to Crosshair, probably soaking up his presence now that they finally can, so Hunter can’t bring himself to drag Crosshair away from them just yet, even just to talk for a moment. They can talk later.
‘Later’ comes when they’ve made it back to Ord Mantell.
Hunter waits until they’re back at Cid’s, until they’ve all had a chance to clean up properly in Cid’s ‘fresher, until they’ve all eaten their fill of real food, until someone – Omega, or maybe Echo, or maybe someone else – manages to convince Cid to let them all stay in one of the bigger rooms upstairs. She makes them drag extra mattresses into one of the rooms, not willing to let them take up more space than they have to – joke’s on her though, they’re not splitting up for anything tonight.
Crosshair is visibly flagging by the time they start making their way upstairs, and Hunter considers pushing the Talk off until later again, when Crosshair’s less tired. But he thinks of what Echo said about it only getting harder to have the talk the longer he waits, and how he can probably keep finding excuses, just as he kept finding excuses not to talk to the others about Crosshair when he was gone, and maybe even how he kept finding excuses for not trying to get him back before.
So, before Crosshair can go into the room they’ll all be sharing for the night, Hunter pulls him aside to ask if they can talk.
Crosshair is wary. Hunter isn’t blind to the way Crosshair has been… not avoiding him, exactly, but keeping his distance all night, not talking to him more than necessary, keeping one or more of their brothers between them as much as he could. Hunter would take it as a sign that Crosshair does not want to talk to him, but… well, he follows Hunter up to the roof when he asks, and it’s not like Hunter has tried to talk much to him either, even though he wanted to.
“What do you want?” Crosshair asks, voice sharp and arms crossed over his chest. Defensive, and maybe cold. Hunter should’ve let him grab an extra shirt or something before they came up here. Too late now, and Hunter isn’t planning on keeping them up in the chilly night air for long, anyway.
Hunter doesn’t bother stifling his sigh since Crosshair will see it anyway, but he does try to school his expression into something kinder than what his brothers (fondly, most of the time) calls his Perpetual Scowl. He’s trying to show Crosshair he’s not angry, after all. “I wanted to thank you,” he says then, looking out over the city. Crosshair doesn’t move; Hunter can feel his piercing gaze on the side of his face. “For saving Omega and AZI and… me. And I wanted to tell you I’m sorry I didn’t see that’s what you were doing, at first. I don’t really know why I—I know you wouldn’t kill me, or them, but I guess I was still worried about that chip, or whatever else the Empire did to you.” Hunter senses Crosshair’s gaze move away from him but doesn’t turn to see where it’s moved to; he can give Crosshair some privacy. “And… I wanted to apologize, if I made you think you weren’t welcome. I really didn’t see any other way, when we left you on Kamino, and I was so busy just—trying to keep the rest of us alive afterwards that it felt like I didn’t have to time to think about how we could get back to you. I’m sorry – I should have made the time. For what it’s worth,” Hunter says, and for this part he does turn to look at Crosshair, so hopefully his brother can see that he means this, with all that he is. “I’m glad you’re here now. I’ve missed you.”
For a long moment, Crosshair simply looks at him in silence. Hunter isn’t one to fidget, normally, and certainly not just because one of his brothers is staring him down, but now he fights the impulse to adjust his scarf, or mess with his hair in a way he hasn’t done since he was a cadet. He stays still, and holds Crosshair’s gaze, letting him take his time searching for—whatever he’s searching for.
“Did you rehearse all that?” is what Crosshair asks when he finally breaks the silence.
Hunter lets out a huff of a laugh. “I didn’t rehearse it, no. But you’re right, I’ve been… thinking about how to say all that, since we left Kamino. Well…” Hunter trails off. He doesn’t want to lie to Crosshair, or attempt to hide anything from, but he doesn’t know if he should say what he was about to say, either.
Crosshair raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him.
Hunter sighs again. “Alright, so Echo may have called me an idiot, more or less, and told me to say something, and he’s the one who pointed out you probably didn’t save Omega and AZI just for their sakes, but I meant everything I said. I’d like to think I would’ve gotten there eventually even if he hadn’t pushed me to.”
“Mm-hmm,” Crosshair hums. Hunter thinks that tone means something like ‘I know’, but he can’t be sure. There’s just a hint of a smirk around his mouth, though, and a light in his eyes that Hunter takes to mean he’s at least got a shot at forgiveness, so that’s—that’s good. “Can we go back inside now? It’s cold.”
Hunter can’t fully hold back his snort at that – that sure is one way to end a slightly awkward conversation. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go back inside.”
The others all seem to have settled down for the night when Crosshair and Hunter get back to the room. Their armor is stacked against the back wall, out of the way but in easy reach, while mattresses and blankets have been piled together in the middle of the room. Wrecker is sprawled out on his back, snoring lightly, with Omega half asleep on top of him and Echo curled in against his side – Echo gets cold too, like Crosshair. Tech is next to Echo, still with his datapad, though he looks up when Crosshair and Hunter enter, so he was likely waiting up for them, rather than actually caught up with whatever he’s doing on the ‘pad. Crosshair must reach a similar conclusion, as he walks over to kick at Tech’s feet – lightly – before moving to the other side of the pile to climb in next to Wrecker, back against his side, adjusting the blankets and pillows and whatever else until he can lay his head on Wrecker’s bicep without the angle breaking his neck.
Hunter surveys the scene for a moment. It’s a nice view, his squad—his family, all together and safe again. As safe as they get, anyway. He’s debating where to put himself for the night – he doesn’t think he and Crosshair are quite up for cuddling, yet, and Tech isn’t really big on that kind of physical contact, most days, and maybe he should stay up to keep watch? – when he feels eyes on him.
“Hunter, dikut, just get in here,” Crosshair not-quite-hisses at him.
“Language,” someone—Echo mumbles. “Kid.” Hunter’s not sure if he’s calling Crosshair a kid or saying he should watch his language because of the kid, but Crosshair twists just enough to cast a glare over his shoulder at Echo in either case. Echo doesn’t care, or see, eyes still closed and face half-buried in Wrecker’s shoulder – he looks, for all intents and purposes, fast asleep. Hunter can practically hear Crosshair’s eyeroll, and the accompanying huff of ‘Regs’ that he doesn’t actually say.
Then Crosshair turns back around to settle in again, holding up the blankets to make space for Hunter beside him, one eyebrow raised in challenge. Hunter doesn’t need to be told again. He shucks out of his own armor and weapons, stacking it next to the others’, before settling in next to Crosshair. His little brother looks at him for a moment through half-lidded eyes before he nuzzles a little further into the blankets, one hand coming to rest against Wrecker’s arm, the other finding its way to Hunter’s shirt under the blanket, gripping lightly.
Hunter can’t help but smile, scooting in a little closer and draping his arm over Crosshair’s waist. “Good night, Cross’ika, sleep tight. I’m here. We’re all here.”
Crosshair hums, barely audible even to Hunter, and finally lets his eyes close.