#Bugg tbb

[dangraccoon]

I Won't Leave You

Crosshair & Hunter

Warnings: intense training, discussion of decommissioning, loss of squad members (OCs that I made to explain why Tech seems to carry multiple roles), resignation to a supposed death

Note: this fic is not clone shipping. Nothing I write is clone shipping.

Mando'a Guide Osik'uram - rude person (literally "shit mouth") Di'kut - idiot

Crosshair’s arms were getting sore from holding up the too large rifle. The weight of it was familiar, but it had been hours of holding it up; his arms were getting weaker. 

“CT-9904,” the surly bounty hunter—who was now his instructor—growled. “How can you possibly expect to be a sniper if you can’t hold still?”

Crosshair knew it was a rhetorical question; he’d been punished for “speaking out of turn” when he’d answered before. He wouldn’t answer him this time, despite the resentment boiling in his gut. Instead he just rolled his eyes under the cover of his helmet. 

“Run it again,” the instructor warned. “Do better this time.”

That all too familiar knot formed in Crosshair’s throat, but he swallowed it down. Soldiers didn’t get nervous, right?

The simulation began and he fell into a rapid rhythm, taking down training droids one by one. 

Simulated sounds of war blared over the speakers; explosions all around him, screams of people being injured, never ending blasterfire. Then the rain started. Crosshair felt the temperature in the room drop. He hated the cold. His hands tightened on his rifle, but did not stop his rhythmic firing. 

The rain grew colder and heavier until it would be nearly impossible for anyone to see clearly through it, but Crosshair wasn’t just anyone. His eyes adjusted rapidly, easily seeing through the sheets of freezing rain. 

He’d been counting, of course. He only had 14 more targets and the simulation would be over. Maybe I can leave after this round, he thought, knowing that this was only the eighth time they’d been through this simulation today. Idly, he wondered how his brothers were fairing in their training today. 

A noise behind him nearly startled him, breaking his concentration and his rhythm. He spun around just in time to see the blue circle of stun bolt about to hit him. 

He woke up in a medical bay, head aching and eyes burning from the bright lights overhead. 

A medical droid hovered next to him. “CT-9904, you are awake,” it told him. “I will alert the medic.”

Crosshair watched the droid go, irritated by its happy tone, then closed his aching eyes. 

“Hey, Cross,” someone said. That voice was far too familiar. 

“Hunter,” he replied simply. 

“You okay?”

Crosshair didn’t answer, his brow furrowing into the deep scowl. 

“Right, stupid question,” Hunter admitted. “Are you hurt?”

“Don’t think so,” Crosshair shrugged. “Head hurts. Lights are too bright.”

Hunter wasn’t sure what to say, but as the newly minted leader of their squad, he figured it ought to be something positive. “Don’t worry, Cross, you’ll get it next time.”

Crosshair sighed. “There won’t be a next time, Hunter.”

Hunter scowled at his slightly younger brother, even though the other couldn’t see him. “Don’t talk like that.”

“We should just accept it,” Crosshair shrugged. “I got lucky during the initial testing; I only outshot Tech by six points.”

“Crosshair, you were made to-”

“I hate that he’ll have to take my job when he’s already got Fixer and Bugg’s on top of his own.”

“Cross-”

“Maybe you could take on piloting, too,” he suggested, ignoring his brother and squad leader’s attempts at redirecting the conversation. “I know you scored higher than me and Wrecker.”

“Would you just-”

“Oh! And make sure you don’t tell Wrecker that 99 and I made Lula for him; I’ve got an image to maintain even after I’m dead.”

“You’re not gonna-”

“You gotta make sure Tech sleeps. I know he’ll be busy with four roles instead of three, but he’ll work himself to death before choosing to sleep. But if you wrap him up in a blanket like a tubie, he knocks right out.”

“Crosshair, please. Please stop.”

He did, unable to continue after hearing the desperation in Hunter’s words. 

“You’re not getting decommissioned,” Hunter affirmed.

“Hunter-”

“No. I was too late to save Bugg and Fixer, but I’ll die before I let the long-necks take away another one of my brothers.”

The regret and guilt that permeated his voice stung. He knew Hunter blamed himself for not helping the others enough, but hearing him now, he realized that his older brother blamed himself entirely for the loss of their brothers. 

“I-” Hunter whispered, not daring to look at his brother. “I can’t lose you too.”

“You won’t,” Crosshair promised, reaching out to touch Hunter’s wrist. He looked up to see his brother’s signature smirk. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, ya know.” (I won’t leave you.)

Hunter chuckled as he wiped a stray tear onto his sleeve. A sense of normalcy crashed over him like a wave. “Yeah, well, first time you go off on your own during a training sim, I’m throwing you in the water.” (I won’t let you.)

Crosshair scoffed. “Osik’uram.” (I love you, brother.)

“Di’kut.” (I know, and I love you, too.)

Thanks for reading! - River

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