Author's Note: Fluff and bonding and hurt/comfort, but not necessarily in that order. Also, Crosshair begins to wonder how his brothers deal with such a hyperactive child. Lol.
~ Amina Gila
The feelings twisting inside of him are... unfamiliar, to say the least. Crosshair was protective of his squad, of course, because all they had was each other. Even if he was technically the youngest, they still took care of each other. This is... different. This is very different somehow. Maybe it's because he's never had to care for someone who is so... helpless, someone who is very dependent on him for protection.
Omega is a child. And she definitely does not belong with him, which is why it's a good thing he'll be taking her back to where she belongs, no matter how much it rankles. Being around her is easy, though. She makes it easy, and he feels none of the resentment and anger around her that he feels around his once brothers.
But what unsettles him is the sheer strength of the protectiveness he feels for her. Maybe the rest of his once squad can protect her better than he ever could, since he is only one person, but he doesn't much fancy the thought of leaving her with them, when they've already lost her once. Or more than once, he doesn't know. If the Empire got her from them once, they could do it again. And this time, Crosshair won't be there to get her out.
He can't stay, but he isn't comfortable with leaving either.
Staying, he thinks, would be even worse than the perpetual gnawing worry for her that he already knows he'll feel when he leaves. He doesn't think he could bear it, being on the Marauder, surrounded by people who were once his family before they left him behind, people who don't even trust him. The kid trusts him, somehow, but... they don't. And he refuses to live like that, knowing that he isn't trusted or even wanted. It's easier to be alone.
Omega is quiet at his side, far more subdued than she was earlier, and she's sticking close, holding his hand tightly. He's always tended to shun physical contact, but this is different, somehow. Holding onto her reminds him that she's alright, after what happened. Anger rises at the memory, and he shoves it back. The men are dead, and the kid is safe. That's what matters.
The starship is waiting for them, and once they're settled into a cabin, the pilot leaves. Crosshair obtained enough credits to pay him well enough to leave them alone and not ask any questions. Hopefully, this will thoroughly lose any Imperials who have been following them.
"Where are we going?" the kid asks as they sit in the cabin, eating rations.
"Pantora," he answers. "We'll be fine if we keep our heads down." But still, he doesn't miss the flicker in her eyes. "What?" His instincts are making him gentler around her, less harsh. It's yet another thing that's unsettling him. A memory flashes through his mind, a mere fragment, but it still... bothers him, and he's not sure why.
"Crosshair has always been severe and unyielding. It is his nature. You cannot change that. He cannot change that."
Maybe it's just a reminder of everything that happened, of how they – none of them – trusted him, no matter how many times he tried to prove it. No matter how much time has passed, the shadows of grief, of pain, of betrayal still linger.
"We went to Pantora once," the kid answers quietly, and Crosshair feels something like jealousy or resentment twist inside him. Omega, he knows, is not his replacement. She wouldn't want to replace him, but that doesn't mean a part of him doesn't still feel as though his once brothers don't think so. He wrangles those thoughts back under control because the last thing he wants to do is hurt the kid, no matter how desperately he wants to lash out at – at someone.
"It was shortly after we escaped Kamino the first time," Omega elaborates, staring at the ration bar in her hands. If she wants to talk, he's fine with it. He doesn't mind listening, so long as he isn't expected to contribute. That's why he and Tech – no, no, not going there right now. "Tech needed to change the ship's signature, so we wouldn't be found, and we went there. That's when the first bounty hunter came after me. It was... close."
Crosshair, despite his earlier conviction, scoffs. "If Hunter hadn't been so selfish, you would never have gone through any of that."
She stares at him, wide-eyed. "He's not selfish," she splutters.
"If he wanted to protect you," he answers, voice hard, "He would have sent you somewhere where you'd be safe. Away from them. They're soldiers. Fugitives. That's no life for a child."
"He wanted me to go with Cut and Suu," she tells him quietly, "But I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay with him, with them. It's like I told you on Kamino. I didn't have anyone until you four were created. That's why I wanted to find you all again."
She's so... sincere, and Crosshair doesn't know what to make of the revelations that she just dumped on him. Maybe he misjudged Hunter. Maybe Hunter isn't as selfish as he had thought. He remembers, vaguely, when she first met them on Kamino. He had found it strange, that a child would want to be around them, but so many of his memories before Bracca are hazed over by the chip's influence, the constant compulsion to obeykillfolloworders.
Fighting the impulses had been so hard, but he had done it as best he could, fighting tooth and nail to stay with his squad, to keep them together, no matter how his thoughts were being twisted. In the end, none of it mattered. They left him behind anyway. He knows he hunted them while under the control of the chip. He knows he did things that he would never have done otherwise.
"Remember what I told you in the brig? You can't help it."
"Aim for the kid."
They knew. They knew that his mind was not his own, and even so, they didn't come back for him. On Ryloth, when his mind was finally free and his own again, he had thought, when he realized they were there, that, perhaps, they had come back for him.
They didn't.
Of course, they didn't. (Did they ever want him, truly?) And the sting of betrayal then was stronger and shaper than before, gutting in its intensity, unchecked without the chip to hold it back. They left him repeatedly, and he doesn't understand it. They never came back. They just... gave up on him.
Why? What did he do?
Omega's words are still ringing in his mind. "I didn't have anyone until you four were created. That's why I wanted to find you all again." He doesn't know what to say to her, though. He's a soldier. Emotions and children aren't things he has much experience with. But –
Well, maybe it's best if he waits to tell her that he's not staying, like she so obviously hopes.
***
After they finish eating the ration bars, Crosshair tells her that they should take some rest, which is probably a good idea because she's exhausted. He gives her the bottom bunk, so she doesn't have to climb, especially since her leg is still healing. He said something about not making her injuries worse, before climbing onto the top bunk and laying down.
She doesn't think he's sleeping though, and she can't fall asleep either, her mind abuzz with thoughts about her lost brother. He's so... When he's with her, focusing on her, he was so... gentle, considerate even. But when he talked about Hunter, she could hear the bitterness in his voice, the underlying antipathy and resentment. It hurts, because she has no idea how they'll work things out once they rejoin the others.
Crosshair is so angry at them, and... maybe rightfully so, because they did leave him behind, even if, in the end, he chose to stay with the Empire. They probably need to talk about it because she has so many questions for him. She wants to know how he feels about... everything. Even if she'll be relieved to have him there, it will be awful if he and their brothers are fighting.
But... she doesn't know what to say to him either, how to even begin to broach the subject, and finally, her courage fails her. She can wait until later. They still have time before they reach Ord Mantell and their brothers.
In her dreams, she's trapped back on Kamino, being poked and prodded with needles and even an occasional scalpel. No matter how much she thrashes and screams, she can't get free, and she knows she knows she'll never ever make it out of here and –
Omega jolts awake with a strangled gasp, heart pounding. The room is dim, almost entirely dark, and above her, she can hear movement as Crosshair shifts. If she was home, on the Marauder, she would probably go find one of the others and stay with them. The presence of one of her brothers next to her would go a long way in helping her forget about the nightmare, so she could sleep again. But... they aren't here, and she doesn't know how Crosshair would react if she crawled into his bunk with him.
So, she rolls over, and closes her eyes, but that lasts for no longer than a minute before she swears that she can feel needles touching her skin, cool and impersonal hands holding her still as they make incisions to take tissue samples. She shudders, sitting up and scooting back until she's touching the wall. It's better than nothing, and it makes her feel safer, less exposed.
Crosshair shifts again, the noise loud in the otherwise quiet room, and he climbs down to the floor. He stands there, looking at her for a moment, before speaking. "I heard you wake up." There's a strange neutrality to his tone, his words quiet.
Omega nods. "Nightmare," she whispers, "I didn't mean to wake you." She isn't surprised though; she's seen how quickly the others wake up, even Wrecker. They can go from fast asleep to awake and alert in a matter of seconds, sometimes. Of course, Crosshair would be the same.
"Do you... want to talk about it?" He sounds hesitant and uncertain, out of his element. It's so much like how Hunter was at first.
Not really. "Just... stuff that happened when I was captured," she admits. She doesn't want to talk about specifics yet. It's still too soon, and the memories are too fresh. "Can you stay?" She asks before she loses the courage to, though she still holds her breath, afraid of being rejected. After their conversation earlier, she feels more hesitant. The last thing she wants is to upset or hurt him even more.
He sighs, and though he doesn't answer, he sits down at the end of her bunk, leaning against the wall next to her, crossing his arms. His proximity is soothing, and Omega cautiously shifts a little closer, though not actually close enough to touch him. "I miss the others," she blurts out, because their absence is so glaringly obvious now, and she aches to be back with them, surrounded by the familiarity of them. "But I'm glad you're here."
Crosshair makes a quiet noise of acknowledgement, but he still doesn't say anything. That's not unusual for him, she's come to realize, so it doesn't bother her. She pulls her blanket a little closer, still leaning against the wall, and closes her eyes. She doesn't want to lay down again, because he'll probably leave if she does, and she's afraid to be alone in the dark. So... she can just... sit here. And rest.
She doesn't recall dozing off, but when she opens her eyes, she's leaning against Crosshair, head resting on his shoulder. Shifting, she snuggles closer, feeling happy and content. "How soon will we get there?" Omega murmurs.
"Soon," he answers, and she can't help but wonder if he slept last night with a stab of guilt at the possibility of having kept him awake. The others have never had a problem, but Crosshair is... different.
"Did you sleep?" she queries, a little worried, pulling back to look at him.
His expression is as impassive as ever, and she wonders if she even would be able to tell, from looking at him, if he didn't. "Yes," he replies, but his hesitation seems too long, making her wonder if it's a lie. "We should eat," he continues before she has a chance to voice that thought.
While Crosshair is as quietly attentive as ever while they eat a meal of rations again, Omega still gets the feeling that he's brooding about something.
"Are you okay?" she finally blurts out. They're strapped in for their imminent landing, and she can't take the seemingly strained silence anymore.
He glances at her, not reacting visibly, and she wishes she could see his face – he's wearing his helmet again. "... Yes." It's a lie, she can tell, but she doesn't call him out on it. Maybe later, when they have more time, she can try talking to him.
The starship lands on a private landing platform in the spaceport, and Crosshair exchanges a few words with the pilot before they disembark. He keeps a hand on Omega's shoulder, steering her into the shadows, next to a pile of off-loaded merchandize that hasn't yet been dealt with. "An Imperial presence is here," Crosshair tells her, as he glances around the spaceport. "We need to be careful."
Omega nods mutely, understanding.
"Do you know how to find them?"
She doesn't even hesitate before answering, "We've been hiding on Ord Mantell."
"Good choice. We'll need another transport." He leans forward, glancing around the spaceport, at the passing troopers – probably still clones, Omega thinks – before he gestures her forward. They leave through a side exit and into the bustling city beyond. "A passenger transport leaves tomorrow afternoon. We'll have to stow aboard."
Tomorrow afternoon? Omega frowns, looking up at the sky. "It's early-afternoon now. What will we do until then?"
"Find somewhere to stay," Crosshair answers, pausing as he looks down at her. "Maybe some clothes for you."
She tugs on her outfit, the same one that she was wearing when she was captured weeks ago. She tried to clean it in the 'fresher on the starship, but she wants to get rid of it, if possible; it doesn't have good memories associated with it. They wander through the streets and into a marketplace, ducking away from any passing patrols as they see them.
But soon, Omega is caught up in the sights and smells of her surroundings, scurrying from one stand to another, curiously looking at the things being sold. There are so many things to see, and she's fascinated. It's so different from Ord Mantell, and previously when she was on Pantora, she didn't have much time to enjoy the trip.
"Can I have one?" she asks Crosshair, giving him her best pleading expression, pointing to a cold, sweet treat of some kind. She's had something like it once some time ago, and she enjoyed it then.
"We just ate –" he begins.
"Please?"
She has a feeling that if she could see his face, he'd be rolling his eyes. He gets her two, and they continue meandering down the street, while she happily – and quickly – consumes her treats.
Omega's just starting the second when Crosshair suddenly grabs her arm, tugging her into the shadows of a nearby stand. She's about to say something when she hears the too-close voices of clones, searching for someone. She hardly dares to breathe until they're gone, and it's only then that she realizes Crosshair is still holding her shoulder. He lets go, as if realizing the same thing, taking a step back from her.
Light filters into the area, and Omega gasps with excitement when she realizes where they are. At a stand. Which includes tooka dolls.
"No," Crosshair says before she can even consider if she wants one.
Unfortunately, that only makes her want one even more, and her eyes fall on a red and black one that's a lot like Lula, except fluffier and with red being the predominant color instead of black. "But she looks like Lula," she protests, snatching up the doll in one hand, while she continues licking her treat with the other.
Crosshair makes an irritated noise. "Wrecker still has the thing?"
"Mmhm," she agrees. "Can we get her? Please?"
"We don't have unlimited credits." He sounds exasperated, and her expression falls. "Fine," he growls.
She instantly brightens. "Thank you," she chirps.
Their next stop actually does bring them to a clothing stand. It's easy to pick out clothing of the same size and similar colorations compared to what she already has, and she resolves to change as soon as she can. And then, her eye catches on something glittery and sparkly, and of course, she has to take a look.
Omega nudges aside a few garments to reveal... a dress. A sparkly dress. Its fabric is soft between her fingers. The upper part is a darker hue of reddish orange, that reminds her of the red that used to be painted on her brothers' armor before they repainted it, and the sleeves and skirt of the dress are a sparkly black. It's beautiful. It's kind of ridiculous to think of actually wearing it, but it reminds her of her brothers, of home.
"It reminds me of you," she says softly, fully aware that Crosshair is hovering nearby, watching her, "Of all of you."
"It's sparkly," he states, sounding mildly horrified.
"It's pretty," she insists.
"When would you wear such a thing?"
"I dunno. Sometime." She hadn't actually thought that far ahead, much less about whether or not she actually wants it, but... it's pretty and sparkly, and she can only imagine how she would look wearing it. It would be hers, something that she chose, not something that she has just because she needs something to wear. She tugs lightly on the sleeve, feeling the silky soft fabric beneath her fingertips. "It's soft."
"Hunter would not approve," growls Crosshair, but he sounds more resigned than actually annoyed, so she gives him her brightest smile which he completely ignores while he adds the dress to their list of purchases.
When Omega starts towards another stand, Crosshair's hand shoots out to grab her arm. "We're going to find somewhere to stay for the night," he explains. It's not that late – the sun hasn't even set yet – and Omega has a sneaking suspicion that he's tired of following her around, buying everything she begs him to. Maybe another time she might feel guilty, but now, she's just happy. Elated. Excited.
He stops to get her a backpack so she can carry her purchases, because he "is not going to carry a stupid toy," before they set off to find lodgings. In the end, Crosshair picks a small, dingy building that's out of the way and not very attractive. He pays the female Twi'lek at the desk for one room and "no questions," getting a key from her. They take a lift to the top floor, and Crosshair walks the perimeter while Omega drops her backpack on the bed.
"There's only one bed," she tells him cheerily. "I guess we have to share."
He grunts, disgruntled, and pulls off his helmet, putting it on the table next to the bed, taking off his backpack and rifle and setting them on the floor. "Eat." He plucks two ration bars from somewhere, tossing them to her. She catches them and plops down on the bed to eat. She is hungry; she hasn't eaten anything other than the ration bars this morning and whatever snacks she weaseled Crosshair into buying for her – not that it was hard.
After a moment of watching her, Crosshair joins her, sitting on the edge of the bed and beginning to eat his own ration bar. "I can't wait to get back to Ord Mantell," she announces, in between bites. She's vibrating with an almost uncontrollable energy. It's the first time that she's felt so light since she was captured. "They'll be happy to see you. We've missed you."
Crosshair twitches. "I'm sure they did," he scoffs, the sarcasm unmistakable.
Omega pins him with a serious look, some of her excitement, temporarily fading. "We did," she insists. He turns towards her, and she meets his eyes, before the intensity of them makes her look away. She stares at the ration bar wrapping in her hands, twisting it. "It's been so... empty." She can't blame him for not believing her, but she had hoped he would anyway. They've all been through a lot, and she's not naïve enough to think it will be easy for him to reintegrate, no matter how accepting of him they all will be.
"You were never there when I was." His voice is cold, emotionless, and she glances up at him. He's not looking at her now; instead, he's staring off to the side, towards his rifle.
"I felt your presence there every day," she whispers. "It was... hard, at first, but they never lost hope that we'd get you back."
The wrapper crinkles in his fist. "They tried so hard," he mocks, tone dangerous.
"That's not fair," Omega bursts out. "We –" She cuts herself off and takes a deep breath, trying to see this from his perspective. In truth, her own guilt over it has choked her, especially after Kamino. She couldn't stop thinking that she should have done something different, that she failed Crosshair in some inconceivable way. "We should have come back for you." It's not what she meant to say before, but it's the truth.
They all have their scars.
"We should have –" Her voice wavers a little, and she takes a fortifying breath, swallowing back her emotions. "We didn't want to leave you behind, Crosshair. Everything just happened so fast, and then, you were sent after us, to kill us."
"So, it's my fault?" he sneers. If he was looking at her, she would think he meant it, but he's not, and it makes her wonder if he's lashing out as a front.
She reaches out, touching his arm. "Of course not," she answers firmly, letting her unwavering, unshakable belief in that fill her voice. "What you did, under the chip, that's not your fault. You couldn't help it. We understand."
"How certain are you that I 'couldn't help it'?" There's a dangerous, warning edge to his voice. "How do you know that? What if I did want to?"
And while there's nothing remotely pleading in his tone – it's more like he's trying to scare her off, make her stop talking about it – but Omega still thinks she can hear it there. "Wrecker's chip activated, too," she tells him, "And he nearly killed us. Rex barely managed to stun him before he would have shot me. He said he tried to stop it, but he... couldn't. He couldn't help it. Neither could you."
Somehow, she isn't surprised when Crosshair says nothing.
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