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Escaping isn't gonna be easy. Hunter knows that, but he wasn't gonna let his siblings get themselves killed trying to find him, either. He really didn't have much choice. The Marauder was damaged already, and if they didn't leave right when they did Tech would've been shot down. He couldn't handle them all being captured. Hunter can handle himself without having to worry about them, too.
He doesn't know what'll happen to him here, but if a reg was able to make it out, he'll find a chance, too. Somehow. It... won't be easy, but he has to try. Security will have been tightened, but that's not enough to stop him.
He can't afford to wait, and Hunter had wanted to avoid the Empire from the start because he knew who they'd see again. He's not ready for it, but he already knows it's coming.
He's still sitting there, waiting, when he feels a distant but familiar energy signature, and Hunter instinctively straightens.
Crosshair comes into view on the other side of the ray shield.
Hunter aches everywhere from the fall. He never thought his wings would be useful until he started falling, and he much preferred to pretend they didn't exist, but he shouldn't have. If he hadn't fallen, he wouldn't be here, and he wouldn't have to worry about anything that comes with it.
He wouldn't have to worry about seeing Crosshair again, about being hurt by him or having to hurt him.
"I figured you'd show up," Hunter says instead, voice level.
The ray shield hisses off.
"I was hoping for the whole squad," Crosshair tells him, a dark smugness in his voice as he pulls off his helmet, "But you'll do." His eyes are dark and angry, and they make Hunter's skin crawl.
He doesn't know if it's that Crosshair is genuinely trying to be intimidating, or that Hunter understands the severity of the situation enough to be afraid. Which he does – Crosshair came after him on Bracca, and Hunter has no doubt Crosshair will kill him. Or – or worse. He shot Wrecker, nearly killed Tech and all of them.
Something curls inside him, icy and dark and scared.
Did Crosshair come all this way out to kill him, or is he planning something else?
Wrecker nearly killed him when he wasn't himself, and he couldn't stop it. He was willing to do anything to make his brain stop repeating orders to kill them, and Hunter has no idea what lengths Crosshair will be willing to go to.
"What are you here for?" Hunter asks. He doesn't really know what's happening, not yet, and he'd stand, but staying curled against the wall is far more appealing than moving right now.
He still aches, and his wings are burning from where they hit the ground unprotected so many times. At least the rest of him had armor.
"Get up," Crosshair says, and he complies, picking up his helmet.
Hunter hesitantly moves forwards, uncertain. He doesn't know what they want.
He shouldn't be scared. That reg – Howzer – wasn't afraid when he went to face his squad. Hunter's too afraid to even do that.
"Scavenging like rats. How pathetic."
His wings press tighter against his back instinctively as Crosshair approaches him, stepping into the cell. They're close now, too close, and he doesn't – doesn't –
It really is pathetic.
He watches, mostly numb, as Crosshair snaps a pair of stuncuffs to his wrists and shoves him for the door, drawing a blaster on him.
Once, long ago, he would've been the first to come back for him.
He tries not to flinch when Crosshair's blaster levels towards his chest.
The bounty hunter shot him there, not so long ago, and it... he shouldn't be so affected by it, or be so weak, but he can't stop fearing or feeling the certainty that Crosshair will hurt him. Maybe not right now, but Hunter knew from the moment he was captured, his only chance at escaping would be before Crosshair got here.
He doesn't know that he has the strength to walk away, but what else can he do? Stay here, and let Crosshair kill him?
"How'd you end up with those?" Crosshair asks him, eyes on his wings. The look makes him feel unreasonably self-conscious. He's not comfortable with their presence or existence, doesn't know how they're here or how to deal with them.
"No idea," Hunter tells him honestly, and he really, really doesn't.
Crosshair's expression is disbelieving, and he shoves Hunter forwards with the end of his blaster.
Hunter flinches back from him instinctively, glaring as a desperate mask to cover his fear.
"Move," Crosshair snaps at him, keeping the blaster leveled at him.
He does.
Now isn't the time to think about getting out. He'd be dead before he even moved.
***
Hunter was half expecting them to take him to a – firing squad or something – but he's still alive, and he counts that as a plus.
Crosshair's taking him somewhere though, and he has no idea where, or what it is he's planning.
All he does know, more acutely than anything else, is that he needs to get out of here before Crosshair hurts him, because that's not something any of them can recover from. He already has no idea how to deal with the fact that their little brother shot Wrecker. He doesn't need to do something like that again.
And, stars, he's so, so scared. He wants to cry from the sheer desperation and helplessness, and he can't stop wondering what it feels like to be controlled by those chips, if Crosshair ever felt like this.
He needs to help him, but he's too afraid to try.
Stupidly useless, pathetic –
He's supposed to be better than this and Crosshair is more important to him than the crippling, mind-numbing fear eating him inside out.
"Every choice you have made since Kaller has been wrong."
And he's too much of a coward to try to make things better. What is wrong with him whatiswrongwithhimwhat –
He's supposed to take care of them, and he's failed every step of the way.
They don't have time to worry about it if he's scared. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if Crosshair hurts him, either. They'll get over it.
He can keep telling himself that, but it won't make the fear go away. Won't make his mind stop constantly replaying that it'll happen, or the gut-wrenching fear of Crosshair torturing him.
He's not himself, and it isn't Crosshair's fault. He knows that, but seeing him here, it's so hard to keep telling himself that.
But this is Crosshair, and if he wants something from Hunter, he'll find a way to get it, like it or not. No matter how hard it is for him to do so, Hunter can't let him find the others. He can't let them get dragged into this.
Can't –
His mind is still spiraling when Crosshair finally comes in.
He should use this as a chance to talk, though there are others here, and getting through to Crosshair will be hard unless they're alone.
He needs to try, though – Hunter's here right now, and he can't just leave when he has a chance to try getting Crosshair back. Even if he has no idea how to do that without ending up dead.
Crosshair's presence, his heartbeat and scent, should be comforting, grounding, but right now? They just make him want to cry even more.
Hunter failed him, and he needs to fix this, though he has no idea how.
He's lost, and he's not supposed to be lost. He's supposed to know what to do. He's supposed to hold their family together. That's his role, his only role, and nothing else has ever mattered. It never mattered if he was exhausted through and through, or if his head was throbbing enough that he couldn't stand without the whole world tilting dangerously, or on Bracca when all he could think of was the burning pain in his chest and back as his wings grew in. It hadn't mattered, because he needed to find Omega, and that –
It never has mattered. Not about to start, now. What he needs to focus on is finding a way to talk to Crosshair, to get through to and reason with him.
"Try again, Hunter. I told you before, you're surrounded."
Stop.
The past doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if he tried and nearly succeeded in killing them. Itdoesn'tmatteritdoesn't –
Crosshair is going to lure the others out after Hunter, and he tries to stop him, but Crosshair isn't gonna listen to him now any more than he has ever since Kaller. "They'll know it's a trap," he points out, but Crosshair is... Crosshair, and he doesn't let anything stop him when he sets his mind on something.
Crosshair pauses in his tracks. "They'll still come for you," he snarks back, "Unless your wings scare them off."
Once, that would've been a joke, and it's such a Crosshair-like reaction that it's gutting, but it doesn't do much good in making him feel less self-conscious about them than he already does.
As if any of this was about him.
Nope, it's just about his sheer clumsiness and stupidity, and the very fact that it was his failure that led him here to whatever's about to happen to all of them.
He swallows the sting of hurt, because the door's already closed behind Crosshair.
***
Kamino is as dark and stormy as ever, and it still feels like home.
Which is stupid, because Kamino has never been their home. They've only had each other, and the Marauder is all they need. They can make it through anything if they're together.
Crosshair's blaster is aimed loosely at his back the entire time, and Hunter loathes facing his back to him. He can still sense him, but he can't see him, can't see if he's going to hurt him. Not that he will, probably, right now, but Hunter is still afraid of it.
Crosshair is here, and it's the chance Hunter wanted to get him back.
"Then we'll find a way to get him back. Somehow."
And with that in mind, he tries. He tries to talk to him, to reason with him, but Crosshair isn't himself, and it's like Omega said. He can't help it.
And, predictably, it's the very moment Hunter's about to think he might've succeeded, they're interrupted when the rest of their family arrives.
Crosshair takes him to the training room, right into open ground, and Hunter can't shake the mind-numbing fear that he'll have to stand here and watch as his little brother hurts the others.
"Clones don't have wings," Crosshair states finally, "Not even us."
"I know," Hunter tells him, trying to keep them from fluttering uncomfortably. They're frustratingly hard to control, and it doesn't help how he has no idea what to do with them. Omega has them, too, but hers are white. That was one of the things that threw them about her being their sister.
Clones aren't Force-users. They aren't supposed to have wings.
Not even Tech could make sense of it, short of theorizing that Omega was, but that didn't explain Hunter. He should've been born with them.
They couldn't understand that any more than why his nails turned black or why his eyes turn black sometimes when he's angry.
Nothing about this makes sense, and it freaks him out more than anything else.
Rex, as the only other clone with wings, took it all in stride, though he didn't have answers either.
"Not even Tech can make sense of it." He tries to ignore the quiet part of his mind whispering in warning about giving Crosshair too much information.
Crosshair's blaster is too close to his back and his wings and it's – he needs a distraction or something to stop thinking about it. They move too much, flutter when he's upset or scared, and they keep shifting right now for all that he tries to keep them still.
They make the kid so easy to read, which is handy, but no one has time to worry about Hunter like that. They shouldn't have to know or worry about it. He doesn't need them to take care of him. He's not the one who needs that. It's – it's annoying.
"You keeping them?"
"What else would I do with them?"
He thinks briefly about having them gone, but immediately remembers Omega bouncing up and down, tiny wings flapping, with a brilliant smile as she asked if she could show him how to fly. It'd been so soon after Bracca and his body still ached and burned all over, so he gave her a smile that probably looked about as fake as it felt and patted her shoulder with a "maybe later."
He owes all of them that now, though. Especially Omega. He remembers how desperate she was when he told them to leave him, and he hates himself for doing that to her.
"They're annoying," Crosshair supplies, and Hunter has absolutely no idea if he's joking or not.
Considering the circumstances, it's hard to say.
He'd like to think yes, but Crosshair literally has a blaster pointed at him right now, so he doesn't know. It doesn't seem like a reasonable time for that.
Like he needs to feel even more self-conscious about their existence than he already does.
At least no one can see his hands, because Crosshair would undoubtedly have even more snarky comments about that.
"I know," he grumbles.
It's not so dark here, and it's more open. He doesn't know if it's that, or if it's the tenseness and approaching action that's snapping him back into focus. It's... easier when he has someone else here to worry about.
It's stupid and selfish for him to be glad they're here so he won't be alone. He doesn't know what's wrong with him or why he... is this, but he is. He just doesn't want to be alone with Crosshair.
***
It doesn't matter if Crosshair tried to stab him, because he is more important than any of that. It's not his fault. It shouldn't hurt so much. Shouldn't hurt at all.
It doesn't matter how Crosshair throws his failure in his face over and over or if he tried to kill them or take Omega away, because they love him more than anything he could've done to him.
Or, Hunter thought they did, until the "this is who I am" that shatters his entire world apart.
He stuns Crosshair before he can try to kill them again, because he's about to.
And this was him.
It was all him.
It – stars.
How could he do this to them?!
Hunter doesn't see the scar he should have from when his chip was allegedly removed, but all he can focus on is the deep, rough scarring from something he doesn't know. He has no idea what hurt Crosshair that badly, and it – it shouldn't hurt to see as much as it does, either.
Crosshair betrayed them.
He turned on them.
He put himself and some nonsensical amount of superiority that Hunter can't make any sense of. He doesn't even know what to do with this.
The "you weren't loyal to me" is still ringing around in his head, and it doesn't make any sense because Crosshair is the one who ditched them and shot Wrecker and tried to incinerate them, and for what?!
He tried to cut Hunter's throat. He would've. Was going to. Hunter saw the blind rage in his eyes when Crosshair stabbed at him just a few minutes ago, and he doesn't know why. He can't understand it. This was Crosshair, and they might've failed him but they tried everything they could. Hunter tried everything he could.
He did what he thought Crosshair would've wanted, so why?
Tech interjects, saying that Star Destroyers are closing in, and they run.
The hurt and confusion are somewhat buried amidst the chaos when Kamino is destroyed and the city falls into the ocean, with them inside.
His wings still throb from when Crosshair slammed him onto the floor. He doesn't understand how they work, but they're still sensitive from Daro and they hurt even worse now.
All Hunter can do is try to ignore them. He has to keep them shifted weirdly so he can carry Crosshair's backpack and rifle – they have to get him out of this safely, and they can't trust him with his weapons either.
But still.
Everything hurts, his heart most of all.
They're sitting in their room, waiting for AZI to finish cutting a hole in the floor to access the tube system when Hunter feels Crosshair's eyes on him again. With Crosshair's intensity, that can be unnerving, even when he wasn't – even when they were still family.
"What?" Hunter half-snaps, catching his gaze. He's hiding under his helmet, and he knows it. Doesn't much care or feel bad about it, not right now. The mess of hurt and pain he feels when he even thinks of Crosshair is overwhelming. Even more so when he's sitting right here.
"You look weird," Crosshair grumbles. It's not nearly as sophisticated as how he normally talks, and another reminder of how they're only nine.
That's not... very old.
Natborns aren't even fully grown at that age, so it figures that they still act childish sometimes, too. Maybe that explains Wrecker.
Hunter shifts a little, mostly as a cover to hide how uncomfortable he is. There's a rustling as his wings move along with him. "I know that."
Echo throws a glance in their direction, but no one says anything.
He doesn't know why he's so uncomfortable with the existence of his wings right now. The last time he was with Crosshair, they weren't here, and the entire situation is... weird. They shouldn't be here. He didn't want them, but they're a part of him now, just like Echo lost half himself to something else.
He dealt with it, and Hunter needs to figure out how to do the same.
It'd help if Crosshair would stop staring at him. It feels like something's wrong with him, and there really, really is. He shouldn't... be this. Doesn't even know what he is.
Crosshair's still eyeing him with occasional but frequent glances.
He doesn't want to think about his wings or how badly it burned when they grew in. It shouldn't have hurt so much, but something in him changed on Bracca, though they still don't understand it. It grew in with bones and nerves and all, so yes, it hurt. He remembers passing out shortly after they got Omega back, remembers everything about the few post-Bracca days in something of a blur.
He'd been able to make it through Raxus – Tech gave him something to keep the pain down long enough that they could get it done – and crashed for the next week or so straight.
By the time the blaster wound was healed, his wings had finished growing and the... whatever in him changed was done.
He's never seen it, but Crosshair must've seen his eyes turn black a few times already. He never mentioned it, though. Hunter can feel it when it happens, because something in the air gets charged and staticky.
He felt that when Crosshair threatened to take Omega from them.
"Sure you're not Force-sensitive?" Crosshair asks.
The only Force-sensitives with black wings were Dooku and some other Fallen Jedi. They're supposed to be white. At least they're normally white. "Doesn't matter," Hunter snaps back, before Crosshair can accuse him of being connected to the Jedi or something equally ridiculous.
After everything else that's happened today, he wouldn't even be surprised.
He just wishes things would go back to normal, to what they used to be, but there's no going back.
***
Being crammed in a tiny, closed quarters with Crosshair definitely isn't what he had in mind about this, but it was the only way they could get out of the lab and to the surface – and hopefully, thereby, off-planet. He's missed him, but feeling his heartbeat so close, and being trapped with his smoky-foggy scent isn't – it's making his skin crawl, and if he could stop hyper fixating on it, that would be nice.
What's important is getting everyone out of here alive.
Not if something makes him uncomfortable.
Stars.
He's not two.
Stop obsessing over it.
He can't stop remembering the moment Crosshair tried to stab him, anyway. If Hunter weren't as good at knives as he was, didn't know how to fight against them as much as he does with them, he'd be dead now. Because Crosshair wanted to kill him, and he has no idea why. He doesn't know why Crosshair's doing this, why he's doing everything so opposite of the brother Hunter thought he knew. Doesn't know if he ever knew Crosshair at all.
Why – why –
He nearly jumps when there's a light touch on his feathers. It's strangely hesitant and gentle, and it reminds him of Crosshair – the brother he thought was theirs. A shiver snakes down his spine, but he opts to ignore it for now, uncertain if it's intentional or not, or if Crosshair is just... trying to distract himself. He shifts away a little, opting to ignore it in favor of watching the debris field. They're heading up fine, and he's trying to use that to distract himself from how uncomfortable the proximity makes him.
He didn't want to be crammed in a closed space with Crosshair, but they didn't have a choice. There wasn't even a question of whether he'd rather it be him here versus someone else – Hunter has always been the first line of defense, the one in front and the first to be hurt. If Crosshair turns on them the moment they reach the surface, it'll be Hunter he starts with.
And Hunter has already lost one brother today.
He's not going to lose another.
"Look where that's gotten you. They're all going to die here, because of your failed leadership."
The darkness of the water is too much, and he can't see. It feels like it's closing in on him, and if Hunter weren't right where he is, he wouldn't have such a hard time dealing with it. But he's here, with Crosshair, and they're stuck here until they make it up. Stuck here, with Crosshair, who tried to kill them, and Hunter has no doubt he'll do it again if he could. He doesn't want to be here, but it's never been about what he wants, or the icy panic crushing his chest.
It's always been about his brothers and the kid.
That used to include Crosshair, before he betrayed them, and Hunter doesn't understand it. He doesn't know what he overlooked, how he didn't see this, what he should've done to keep Crosshair from turning on them.
It doesn't make sense. He tried to protect him, he always has, and he can't – when did Crosshair start putting himself about his brothers? And why?! They were all that mattered to each other. They had morals, rules, that Crosshair apparently didn't, but it – they'd always do anything for each other. That wasn't supposed to change. Hunter knew something could happen, something that could take his brothers apart, but he never expected it to.
The regs made fun of them all the time, telling them that their co-dependency would get someone killed and they'd be useless because they wouldn't know how to function without each other. He'd been afraid of that, but he never expected it to happen.
Never expected to have to know what it was like without Crosshair.
For as hard as losing him is, Hunter never thought they'd lose him while he's still alive, and this is worse somehow.
He flinches when Crosshair's hand touches the more central part of his wing, and it's way too close to his rifle, though he can't get that without Hunter feeling it. It doesn't hurt, and he normally wouldn't mind, but it's Crosshair, and his every instinct is screaming with warning that something that seems gentle will turn to pain in a moment.
And it's making his skin crawl.
He doesn't understand where or how he failed, how this even happened. It doesn't make any sense and he really wants to curl up in a ball and cry someplace where everyone won't see.
He failed them enough already, and they don't need to know how weak he is.
He doesn't really want to call Crosshair off – doesn't want to antagonize him, but this is making him unreasonably uncomfortable. A part of him kind of hopes he'll just stop it on his own. It's not like he's had anything nice to say about them.
It's ridiculous how it feels like he needs Crosshair's acceptance of their existence in order to accept them himself. Omega can fly, somewhat, and she offered to show him what she knows. Hunter hadn't been sure about it, because... he doesn't even know.
"You know what you should work on? Explaining when you went soft."
He still isn't sure, but he can't think about anything other than that Crosshair won't stop touching him and it's – he needs it to stop.
It doesn't hurt, but he thinks it'd be more comfortable if it did, because at least this would make sense and he wouldn't feel so awful for wanting to push him off.
Hunter changes the setting on his comm, because the others don't need to hear the argument that's no doubt about to break out again. He shouldn't hide this from his squad – they shouldn't hide things from each other – but he doesn't... want them to know how weak he is, either. "Crosshair," he says finally, once the urge to squirm is too overwhelming, "Stop touching it."
"Why?" he asks, unmoving.
Hunter hisses out a breath, flinching away when Crosshair touches the base of his wing, where Tech had to make an opening in his armor and bodyglove for them. It's too intimate, and he – he doesn't trust him. Can't. Crosshair has done too much to them, and the "this is who I am" is ringing through his mind over and over and over, driving the knife in his heart even deeper.
Crosshair tried to cut his throat, and he has no idea why.
He doesn't want to be touched by him.
He really just wants to cry, actually, to be held the same way he used to hold Crosshair when they were little, but Hunter's the oldest and no one does that for him. They shouldn't have to – that's not their role. It's never mattered. Not about to start now.
He really wants Crosshair to stop it, and he hates himself for it a little, because he's his brother, and Hunter shouldn't have let them fall this far even if he has no idea what he should have done. He wants to push him off, but he has no idea if it'll make Crosshair angry, and he's more afraid of what would happen then than of how uncomfortable this is making him. It's not even important, and it shouldn't be such a big deal.
That's what's pathetic, if anything is.
"Just – stop," he requests, twitching away again. He sounds desperate, and it's – it's stupid. He's supposed to be stronger than this. He's supposed to be their leader, to protect them, and yes, give them something if they need – or want – it, even if it's difficult or makes him uncomfortable. But that doesn't really include Crosshair anymore, does it? Hunter still feels like it should, even if it really doesn't, if Crosshair didn't want it to.
"Are they that sensitive?"
It doesn't hurt; it's just uncomfortable, but it feels so stupid to tell Crosshair something so childish. He's nine years old, not four. He shouldn't be getting so hung up over this. But it's there, and it's intrusive and – and it makes him feel violated somehow. He's used to being poked and prodded at, to being studied, but this is different, because it's – it's Crosshair, and he shouldn't have a problem with it. Shouldn't – any of this, but it's happening, and Hunter has no idea how to deal with it. "No, but it's weird."
"Hm," Crosshair supplies. He doesn't pull back entirely, but his touch lightens a little, enough that it's not so... present or distracting. It's a little more hesitant again, but it still feels like him, and that hurts even more. He's nothing like what Hunter thought he was, and he doesn't understand. Crosshair meant everything to him the same way all his brothers do. Why doesn't that matter?
"You weren't supposed to leave."
It's a neutral statement, but it still makes him angry. "You weren't supposed to try to kill us." His wings shift a little, uncomfortably. He doesn't mind Crosshair touching him, at least he once wouldn't have, but he can't trust it.
Crosshair tried to kill them, and he's done nothing but try to kill them again and again, and he never explained why.
"I tried to bring you back," he snarls, "To where you belong –"
"We don't belong to you, Crosshair!" Hunter snaps. He hates himself for it, for yelling at him, but the touch makes his skin crawl and he needs it to stop. He's scared, and he's tired of being scared. It's pathetic and stupid and weak. This is Crosshair, his little brother, and Hunter shouldn't be afraid of him.
He has no idea what's wrong with him.
"Didn't you?" he hisses back. "We did everything together, until you left."
He could say literally anything to that, but there's nothing that he hasn't already said. Hunter slaps his hand away with his wing, and Crosshair's somewhat disgruntled yelp implies he got hit a lot harder than he meant to.
That was stupid. And petty. And he has no idea why he just did that, except that he stopped thinking altogether.
Crosshair doesn't try to touch them again, and Hunter almost wishes he would. At least he wouldn't feel so...
That was Crosshair, and he just hit him for making him uncomfortable. He shouldn't have done that. Whydidhedothatwhatishethinkingwhatiswrongwithhim –
He stubbornly blinks back at the tears burning his eyes, trying to hold them at bay, but everything about this entire situation is ripping him apart and he just. Can't.
If Crosshair hears the momentary hitch in his breathing, he doesn't mention it.
He doesn't say anything at all.
Hunter rests his helmet against the glass wall, forcing himself to breathe in and out slowly, steadily the way he always does to calm himself. Usually it's about his senses, but it works for emotions just as well. He folds his wings tighter against his back, waiting for them to finally reach the surface.
***
Crosshair doesn't mention them again, and Hunter doesn't even catch him looking at them. It's... almost weirder than when he was. It certainly hurts worse than when he was.
Crosshair saved Omega, and Hunter tries to ignore the ridiculous level of hurt he feels about that.
"– going to die here because of your failed leadership – "
Crosshair saved her, but he tried to kill Hunter and all of his brothers. It doesn't make sense, and he shouldn't be hurt by that. It's a good thing that he saved Omega, and Hunter's grateful for it, because Tech was right when he warned him right off that the added weight of Hunter's wings would drag him under too fast before he even reached Omega.
It was them Crosshair grew up with, but it never even mattered to him. It – it was Omega that he cared about, and that – why in the stars is he hurt by that he already knew it there's nothing to fuss about this is so stupid. He already understands that Crosshair cares about... the Empire, about himself more than them, and being reminded about that shouldn't hurt.
Hunter asks him to come with them anyway, desperate to not have to leave him again – how is he supposed to do this again, how's he supposed to live with himself knowing that he failed, that he'll do it again, and that he hates what he is – but Crosshair turns it down.
It's just as hard for the others to walk away, and that hurts even more.
Wrecker and Crosshair were close. They were the closest in their own right, and seeing Wrecker have to walk away, with as dead and angry and empty as he is now somehow hurts as badly as this entire situation.
Omega lingers the longest, stubborn and persistent, but unwilling to let it go.
Hunter already knows trying is fruitless, but Omega isn't the one who was close to Crosshair, isn't the one who grew up alongside him only for him to turn on her and try to kill her. She might've known them when they were babies, but that's not the same.
Omega watches until Hunter closes the ramp and Tech flies them out.
He doesn't look back.
Crosshair hadn't, either.
Of course, he hadn't.
That'd be under the assumption that he even missed them.
Hunter sets the rifle down by Crosshair's weapon kit, half of the mind to clean it later and put it away like he once would've.
No one talks.
(He can still feel Crosshair's hands on him, and it simultaneously makes his skin crawl and makes him miss him even more. He wants to feel him again. He doesn't want him to – doesn't want that to be his last memory of contact with his little brother. Doesn't even care if Crosshair would only hurt him more, because at least he'd be here. At least he'd feel something instead of being empty.)
Wrecker climbs into the gunner's mount without a word.
Echo and Tech are flying, not looking at each other, or at him when he enters the cockpit again.
Hunter settles into the seat he normally sits, but he feels numb. Empty. His wings brush awkwardly against the back of the seat, and it makes him feel wrong in his own skin. It's stupid to be so upset by what Crosshair said, and he doesn't even know why he is given that he obviously didn't really... mean everything he said. He wouldn't have been touching them if he did, and it isn't really like Crosshair to intentionally do something to make him uncomfortable. Then again, none of what happened here was very much like the brother they thought they knew.
He can't imagine Crosshair hurting them, trying to kill them, for anything. It's not who he was. He was always... chaotic, but gentle, and he'd never hurt them.
But that was back when they, well, belonged to him, and apparently, he doesn't give much care for anything that's not his.
And that isn't the brother Hunter thought he knew.
None of this makes sense.
He failed Crosshair, and he doesn't even understand how it happened. He tried. He did, but it – it didn't matter.
Is something just wrong with him, or is...
He has no idea.
He can't fathom how Crosshair could have just walked away from them, why he would do this.
Omega wanted him and Echo chose him and Hunter took care of him and Wrecker –
Undoubtedly, Hunter messed something up, but he has no idea how or where or what or why there's not an answer to any of this.
He didn't mean to hurt Crosshair, if he ever did – aside from that once he pushed him for being mean to Omega. He didn't... That isn't what any of this was about, so he doesn't understand.
Does he blame them for getting hurt, or whatever exactly happened to him? Hunter has no idea how he got a scar that bad. It's even worse than Wrecker's, and Wrecker nearly died from it.
Hunter would've thought the fact that the Empire very obviously didn't treat it properly would be enough to clue Crosshair in to what it's capable of.
It's never going to stop hurting.
Omega jumps him, wings flapping, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. Hunter catches her instinctively, and she curls up against him.
There's nothing anyone can say to make this better, and Hunter is grateful they don't even try.
Omega's wings are small, but they're – they fit her, and he can't imagine her without them. They're adorable and he – he found it weird with Rex, but because it was different. Rex has practically the same face as all the regs. They're Force-sensitivity connected. Not... random like they were on him.
Maybe he really is a – defective or something.
They shouldn't be here, but they're a part of him, and he has to get used to it.
Even if... Crosshair didn't like them any more than Hunter does.
"Should I scan you?" Tech queries finally.
"It's fine," Hunter answers automatically, even if he still aches everywhere. Nothing's broken though, so he'll be fine even without treatment. "He – they didn't hurt me. I'm fine."
He can't imagine how worried about him they must've been. Hunter was panicking, too, and he's the one who was there.
Omega squeezes him tighter, and Hunter presses his face to her hair, trying not to think about anything else. Trying not to think about anything except that they're here and safe and together, but all he can remember is that Crosshair is gone.
"Kid?" he asks, as an afterthought.
"Yeah?"
"I'm gonna take up your offer. About learning to fly."
"That would be wise," Tech is quick to agree.
Omega squeezes him a little tighter, and Tech's hand presses to his shoulder. It makes him feel a little less alone, but it doesn't change the fact.
They lost something, and they're not getting it back.