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We Should all Burn Together

634 words

Warnings: angst! swearing!

Crosshair stood watching the flames as they died down into ash, the wreckage of the Marauder sinking into the ocean. Wrecker was in recovery. Crosshair had watched his shallow breaths for some time, eyes glazed over with a bone deep fatigue, before excusing himself. Hunter remained at his bedside. 

The night felt endless. Darkness moved around him like an organic being, stalked him. Bits of ash floated around him, settling on his armor, sliding off. Fire, reflecting in his eyes, danced orange and yellow. Crosshair shivered.

The shot. What made him think he was going to make it in the first place? By now, he'd realized his shooting hand was worthless. Omega had trusted him, and instead, he had watched, helpless as she was loaded up, taken. 

He wished that Hunter had berated him, cursed him for his error, but he hadn't. His silence was much worse. Crosshair could read between the lines of silence. He had known Hunter all his life, knew what dark thoughts must be churning behind his eyes. The shake began slowly, and Crosshair clamped his left hand down on his right. Fucking hand. 

Turning slowly from the scene, he walked. The further he got from the wreckage and the docks, the quieter it became. The darkness stretched out over the ocean, smoke and fire at his back. Waves moved in and out with no moonlight to show their existence. 

He walked until he couldn't see the light from the docks. The ocean surged gently, the sound quiet, peaceful. 

Crosshair held his shaking hand close, cursed it. He wished he could tear it off, be rid of it. 

Loneliness was his companion tonight, and he leaned into it. He thought of their ship and then of their pilot. Tech's face, behind his large goggles came to mind. Gone, like the Marauder. Crosshair closed his eyes, swallowing painfully around the lump that had formed. 

He didn't see the dark shape that appeared at his side until Hunter spoke.

"You should get some sleep, Cross," Hunter's voice was impossibly gentle. 

Crosshair made a dismissive snort. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are." Hunter took his arm, and Crosshair looked at him. The tattooed half of his face was barely visible, but his eyes shone in the dark. Tired eyes, Crosshair thought. 

"Why aren't you asleep?" 

"Can't sleep." Not until I know everyone's safe, went unsaid. Hunter, their ever vigilant leader. Crosshair sighed. 

"Wrecker...?" Crosshair asked, glancing back up the beach.

"He'll be fine. You need sleep."

Crosshair looked at the arm still linked with his, heard the care in his words, and tears came. He didn't deserve care. He didn't. With a shaking hand, he wiped his face. 

"Hunter, I have a plan. Tomorrow..." his voice shook. "Tomorrow, I'm contacting Rampart. He..he can get me into Tantiss." 

"What do you mean...alone?" Hunter's eyes were wide, his hand a vice on Crosshair's arm. 

"Like FUCK you're going alone." Hunter's voice was loud enough that Crosshair jumped, startled out of his thoughts. "We're waiting until Wreck is up and then we'll do it. TOGETHER." 

Crosshair stared at Hunter, mouth attempting to form words, failing. 

He could tell the time by the way the sky over the water had just started to lighten. They'd been up all night. He knew he wouldn't argue with Hunter, not here. He wanted Hunter to sleep. 

He allowed Hunter to lead him back the way they'd come. The fires that still burned reflected off the wet sand as they walked. Fumes and smoke from the burnt engine parts swirled around them, and they coughed, wiping their eyes. 

Together, they watched as more and more of their ship disappeared into the sea, Hunter leaning on Crosshair just as much, and they turned their backs on the wreckage as one.

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.

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.