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leapingbadger · 2 months ago

Text

The Light

Words: 1374

Summary: Hunter and Crosshair have a chat

Notes: I promise I can write from another POV but this is a Hunter POV again.

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Hunter gritted his teeth to try and stifle a scream. It was a deep, guttural noise that seemed to get stuck in his throat. They were taking away his life, his family, his battles, and his dreams. Pictures flashed in his head, the edges browning, coiling and burning away, lit by some bright, invisible flame. The pain in his head radiated from his forehead to the top of his spine. It felt like his brain was being liquidated inside his skull.

He sat bolt upright in bed, chest heaving, sweat covering his face and dripping down his back. He had the blade of his knife clutched between his fingers, pulled back to his ear, ready to be released at the enemy.

There was a silhouette in the doorway, the amber light from the common area shining around the tall, lanky frame. They were leaning against the door but didn’t cross the threshold into the room.

Hunter relaxed, recognizing the hiss like breathing of his brother. He slowly lowered the knife, tucking it back under his pillow. “What can I do for you, Crosshair,” he said gruffly, trying to steady his beathing and shake off the last remnants of the nightmare.

“You were screaming,” Crosshair said matter-of-factly.

Hunter nodded and swung his legs out of bed. He pushed his sopping wet hair out of his face and padded past his brother, through the common room to the kitchen beyond. The sky was dark through the window, but Hunter could hear the stirring of the birds and the splashing of the fish in the harbor. Sunrise wasn’t too far away.

He set about making some caf. The thought of trying to sleep again wasn’t appealing, he might as well get the day started. Crosshair had followed him and was now propped in the doorway of the kitchen, once again leaning.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Crosshair asked, his voice unusually soft.

“It was just a nightmare, Crosshair. Don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep,”

His brother crossed to the table and sat down. Hunter could feel his eyes on him the whole time and deliberately didn’t meet his gaze. Crosshair cradled the stump of his wrist in his left hand and rubbed it absentmindedly. He was getting used to the prosthetic, but still hadn’t committed to a permanent replacement. Hunter wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want it or wasn’t ready to leave the safety of Pabu and travel off world for the procedure.

Nightmares weren’t an uncommon occurrence in the house. Hunter had woken to Omega and Crosshair’s screams too many times to count. Omega would sob into her brothers’ arms before falling asleep against one of them and getting tucked back into bed.

Crosshair’s nightmares were a mystery. He never spoke about the content, just the feeling. Hunter was usually the first to respond, just because he heard him first. He’d stumble into his room to find him curled up in the corner under his lofted bed, knees pressed to his chest, head buried in his knees. They didn’t need to talk, Hunter would sit next to him, ground him in his presence and wait until he was ready to get up.

Wrecker had the fewest nightmares but when he did, he re-lived Eriadu. He watched Tech fall again and again in slow motion. He screamed out for him and every time woke up with his arms stretched outwards, trying to catch him. His scream would permeate Hunter’s dreams sometimes, and he’d wake up, reliving the moment with him.

Hunter’s dreams had started more recently. It had been three months since Tantis and just as the others had started to heal, the insidious mind experiments of Doctor Hemlock started to take hold. Even in death he couldn’t escape the Doctor’s grip and he couldn’t stand it.

The image of Omega handcuffed to Hemlock, being dragged away flashed in front of Hunter’s eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head to get rid of it. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he was startled when Crosshair spoke again.

“The dreams…they’re bright white and searing pain…”

Hunter looked over at his little brother, his narrow face contorted in anguish. His eyes were down, staring at the stump where his shooting hand should be.

“You feel like your soul is being stripped bare, your memories distorted or erased…like you are being erased. You can’t tell what’s real and what’s not.” Crosshair continued.

Hunter grabbed two cups of caf and sat down at the table opposite his brother. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” he said grimly.

He winced as he sat on the rickety wooden chair. The explosion he got caught up in had damaged the discs in his back. Another souvenir from Tantis. The bruise had finally faded, but the rest was yet to fully recover. And every so often a twinge sent a shockwave down his right leg.

He slid the second cup of caf to his brother, watching him curl his left hand around it. Hunter felt a wave of regret wash over him. How many times had Crosshair been tortured? How many times had he been put in those machines and for how long? Hunter had only been in them a few hours, at his best guess, and he was still feeling the ramifications from it. No wonder his brother was so wounded when he returned to them.

He looked out of the small, round window behind Crosshair. Sunlight was licking the horizon. He could hear boats departing the harbor and the chatter of the Moon-yos darting about the island. The soft scent of the weeping maya blossom drifted into the kitchen.

“Crosshair,” he started, his voice getting caught in his throat. He cleared it and started again, putting down his caf. “Crosshair…I’m sorry…for not understanding…about what they did to you…for…for all of it…” he trailed off. Perhaps it was too late for apologies.

Crosshair looked up at him, “I deserved it,” he said at last, one fat teardrop fell into his caf. His right hand started shaking ever so slightly. Hunter rested his hand on his brother’s forearm and left it there.

“Nobody deserves to be tortured, Crosshair,” he said bluntly. He thought they had moved past this. Thought that Crosshair had realized he wasn’t to blame.

“I…I submitted a report, after Kaller. Said the Padawan survived. It was my fault…”

“Crosshair, it was the inhibitor chip. None of that was your doing. You have to let it go. I have.” Hunter said softly.

Crosshair nodded, seemingly shaking off the despair that had overwhelmed him moments ago. Hunter knew he was still coming to terms with everything. It’s easy to push these thoughts away when you’re running, it’s the quiet moments when the trauma bubbles up to the surface, and this squad had a lot of that to go around.

A faint tinkling sound entered the room and Batcher padded softly over to Crosshair, resting her head on his thigh. He scratched the top of her head while absentmindedly sipping his caf. Omega may have been the one to tame the lurka hound, but she had adopted Crosshair as her minder and favorite person. Hunter smirked at the thought of Crosshair having a pet. It really was possible for people to change.

Hunter and Crosshair sat in silence, watching the sun gradually rise over the horizon. The golden light filled the room, banishing the shadows that had lingered moments before.

Hunter took a deep breath and smiled as he heard Omega shuffling through the house. She appeared in the doorway, blonde hair wild, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She had grown so much in such a short amount of time, but here, in this light, she still looked like the child they had taken from Kamino, big eyes, wide smile. She seemed to glow in the golden light of the kitchen.

“Morning, Kid” he said getting up and letting her sit opposite his brother.

Crosshair smiled at Omega then looked at Hunter. He gave an ever so slight nod, which Hunter returned.

There would always be darkness but they both knew where to look for the light.

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leapingbadger · 14 days ago

Text

Missing

Summary: Set after the events of Season 1, Episode 9. Hunter deals with the squad’s confrontation with Crosshair on Bracca.

Word Count: 2103

The engines hummed as the Marauder careened though the blue swirls of hyperspace.

“What about Kamino? Can we infiltrate undetected?” Hunter asked, wincing as he leaned for in the chair.

“Unlikely. Kamino was hard to access during the Republic, this new Empire will have it completely locked down.” Tech said, punching something unknown into his datapad and pushing his goggles up his nose.

“What about tracking him? Is there a way to see where he’s deployed? Intercept him on another mission?” Hunter asked.

“The files are hard to crack but I don’t see him listed on any current missions. It’s possible he was injured during our mission on Bracca”

“Injured? Can you find out?” Hunter asked in a worried voice.

Tech tapped a few more things into his datapad, “unclear. I can’t gain access from here. Crosshair’s whereabouts are currently a mystery.”

Hunter signed and flopped back in his chair, immediately regretting it. His hand clutched his chest as he hissed through his teeth.

Tech signed and rolled his eyes, kneeling next to his brother to check on his injury, “I gave you strict instructions not to move or jostle the injury to his chest. You should rest. We can discuss this in more detail later.”

It had been a long couple of days since their run ins with Crosshair and Cad Bane and the adrenaline Hunter had felt had since crashed, enveloping him in a deep and penetrating exhaustion. He shook his head as though trying to shake it off.

“No, we need to keep working.” Hunter said doggedly.

Hunter wasn’t sure when he’d ever been so stressed. Seeing Crosshair again and hearing the malice in his voice was almost too much to bear. “aim for the kid” hissed in his mind and he involuntarily clenched his fist. Hunter had wanted nothing more than to stun his brother and drag him with them, but they had been outnumbered and barely made it out in one piece, only to be intercepted by a bounty hunter.

“Hunter, if I haven’t thought of a way to get Crosshair back in the last few months, short of storming an imperial base, vastly outnumbered to our certain doom, it is likely not possible with the current data we possess. You need to focus on healing and keeping Omega from the numerous bounty hunters currently searching for her.”

“You heard him, Tech. We need to get that chip out. He’ll stop then, he’ll go back to his old self.”

Tech signed and sat back in the copilot’s seat, “Hunter, Crosshair was always severe and superior. I wonder if whatever part of him is still active with the chip is enjoying his new status within the empire. He is a commander now. Remember when you were promoted to sergeant, how he reacted? I do not believe every action can be attributed to the chip. I think we need to be prepared for that.”

Hunter hung his head in his hands. Tech was usually right about these things. “We saw the way the chip changed Wrecker; you can’t tell me that part of him was active during that."

“We do not know the long-term effects of the chips. Perhaps if Order 66 has been successfully resolved for the clone, the chip eventually loses efficacy,”

“We still have to try and get him out,” Hunter said quietly.

“I concur. He is our brother. We just have to be strategic, and nothing will happen when you are injured and the team exhausted. Now rest.” Tech said firmly. He settled back into his chair, datapad up to his eyes.

***

Hunter kept vigil in the cockpit, sleep eluding him as usual. His squad were scattered about the ship getting some much needed sleep. Wrecker and Echo had taken the racks, their soft snores audible over the sounds of the ship. Tech was sprawled out in the copilot’s seat. He had fallen asleep mid-sentence, datapad still clutched in his hand. Omega was in her room. She had retreated early tonight, seemingly wanting to be alone with her thoughts.

Hunter wasn’t sure what he would have done if they hadn’t recovered Omega. They’d been fortunate this time, the skills that they had taught her over the last few months had saved her, as well as her wits, intelligence and bravery. Hunter wasn’t sure they’d get so lucky the next time around.

Among the sounds of the ship was a rustling that signaled Omega was awake. Hunter twisted gingerly in his seat and saw the curtain to her room twitch. She’d been meeting him in the cockpit the last couple of nights, sometimes discussing her nightmares, sometimes sitting in silence.

Hunter turned around and waited, but she didn’t join him this time. He rested his head back in the chair and closed his eyes. Low, stifled crying was coming from the gunner’s mount and Hunter’s stomach lurched. He wasn’t adept at dealing with a crying child, not like Wrecker was. He hesitated, not wanting to intrude but stood despite himself, flinching as he made his way to the curtained room.

He paused at the ladder; a large guttural sob sounded behind the curtain. He climbed a couple of steps, knocking on the side of the ship near the curtain.

“Omega?” he asked softly.

She sniffed loudly, and Hunter hesitantly pulled back the curtain to take in the small girl. She was curled up on the floor, her tookah doll Lula squeezed under her right arm, big, brown eyes swimming with tears. A yellow bruise had formed under her right eye.

“You okay, Kid?” Hunter asked, perching on the edge of the gunners mount, trying not to take up too much space. The lights Wrecker had hung for her were off but still twinkled in the dazzling display of hyperspace, the curtains not quite enough to keep the light out completely.

Omega nodded unconvincedly but didn’t elaborate and Hunter wasn’t going to pry. He knew all too well that you can feel things intensely but not be ready to discuss them. He thought of Crosshair. Some things you just can’t speak about.

Hunter took in Omega’s face in the pale blue light and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

“I can leave if you want,” he said, taking a sharp intake of breath as he maneuvered back to the steps.

“No, please stay,” she said quietly, reaching out and grasping hir forearm. Hunter nodded but didn’t think he needed to speak. He knew she was scared, and she had every right to be. Being the target of not one, but two bounty hunters was enough to make anyone lose their composure, let alone a kid who until recently had no exposure to the larger galaxy outside the sterile walls of Kamino.

They sat in silence for a while, Omega looking out of the gaps in the curtains and Hunter leaning his head against the durasteel plating, listening to Wrecker’s heavy breathing like he was a white noise machine. They were grounded in each other’s presence, a symbol that they had made it back to each other.

“Hunter?” Omega said in a small voice.

“hmm” Hunter grunted, eyes closed, read resting against the wall.

“Crosshair… he was trying to kill us. With the engine…wasn’t he?”

Hunter felt a weight drop into his stomach and rose to meet her eyes, “Omega…” he didn’t even know what to say.

“I know it’s not his fault,” she added hastily, clearly alarmed by Hunter’s reaction to her question.

“it’s not,” Hunter reiterated, ��but yes, he was trying to kill us,”

“How do we get him back?” Omega said quietly.

“I don’t know, Kid.” Hunter said, his whole-body deflating. “Tech and I have gone over some plans. but we can’t just go back to Kamino. We have to keep you as far away from there as possible,” He caught himself, taking in Omega’s head hanging low, suddenly holding the weight of the galaxy. “This isn’t your fault, Omega. Even if you weren’t with us, we’d still be struggling to come up with a plan.”

“Do you miss him,” she asked.

Hunter felt his chest tighten and a rock fall into his throat. There was a gaping hole since Crosshair stayed behind…got left behind, Hunter thought bitterly. With every day of separation more damage was done, and he didn’t know who they’d be if they were eventually able to get him back. Whether he’d want to come back, even without his inhibitor chip.

Hunter gave her a curt nod.

“Then why don’t you talk about him?”

“it’s…complicated,” Hunter said sullenly.

Omega gave him a look that was reminiscent of Tech. Eyebrow raised, not buying his answer.

Hunter sighed, not really sure how to explain it or if he could at all, “Sometimes as the leader I have to make the decisions I don’t want to make as a brother. I am responsible for all of you, your safety, your health and overall wellbeing, what choice will be the best for the group. That’s what being a leader is.” He looked at Omega, trying to see if she understood him. She nodded to continue, and he searched for the right words before doing so.

“…when we left Kamino…left Crosshair” his voice caught in his throat, “We were out of time. The bay doors were closing, the empire wanted us dead, and Wrecker was down. He’d been shot twice in two days…We had to get you to safety…I…we…I made the choice to leave Crosshair for the safety of us all. As the leader, it was the right choice. As his brother…I…it’s…I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself. And I know he won’t…”

Hunter closed his eyes. The weight of the last few months felt heavier than it ever had before. He felt the sting of tears in his eyes and willed them to disappear. He heard his brother’s sarcastic barbs in his head “how touching,” and felt his fury and grief burn the tears away.

“I’m sure he won’t blame you once we remove his chip,” Omega said cheerfully.

Hunter chuckled, “You don’t know Crosshair. With the exception of trying to kill us, his temperament hasn’t changed much, just the direction of his wrath.” Hunter signed heavily, “I do miss him, though. We were sent on over sixty missions together and I never doubted for a second that he would have our back. Protect us. I’m sorry you didn’t get to meet the real him. Maybe you will someday.”

“Can you tell me about him?” Omega asked

Hunter froze, unsure what to say, how to start. He ran his hand through his hair.

“Did you know he was an artist?” he asked her after a moments pause.

“Really?” she replied excitedly.

“Yeah, he used to scribble on anything he could. Used to steal our armor paint and use scraps of fabric as canvas. He did a few of my tattoos too.”

“You have more tattoos other than that one?” She indicated to his face.

Hunter laughed for the first time in days, “yeah, I have way more than this.”

Hunter hadn’t spoken this openly about Crosshair recently, especially not to his brothers who he knew were all dealing with his loss in different ways. Omega had a magical way of making others open up to her. He’d seen it with his brothers and with strangers too.

He spoke about Crosshair reverently, in the past tense as though were lost or dead and he supposed in some way he was, lost at least. Omega laughed as he shared tales of their time as cadets, gasped as he spoke of their fears of getting decommissioned, and grinned with pride when learning how they became the famous Clone Force 99.

After some time, Omega stifled a yawn behind Lula, as Hunter finished telling her about Crosshair picking a fight with a Reg twice his size when they were cadets.

“You should get some rest,” he said quietly.

“Hunter?” Omega said as he made his way down the ladder.

“Yeah, Kid.”

“Thanks for telling me about Crosshair,” she said sweetly.

He smiled, “thanks for asking.”

He traced his way back to the cockpit, carefully eased himself into the chair and watched the lights of Hyperspace dance. The ship was silent again except for the hum of the engine, the snores of his brothers and the slow and gentle breathing of Omega.

Hunter watched the hypnotic display in front of him and missed his brother, like always.

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