Chapter Text
-HUNTER-
The bitter smell of an omega in deep distress wrapped around him the moment he opened the door of the sleeping area and he froze just on the threshold, his eyes instinctively searching for its source.
He wondered how in the galaxy Wrecker could just sleep in there with him in that state of distress, spend all those hours surrounded by that smell that sent all his senses screaming and not give in to the need to grab and bury the omega in his own bunk, and hold him tight. His alpha instinct screamed at him to rush in and hug him, to squeeze the fear and worry away, but he held his breath, and the growl that was climbing up his throat when Crosshair’s red rimmed sleepy eyes opened and turned toward him.
He looked like he had been startled awake, even if he knew perfectly well that he had just been trying to fall asleep. He could feel it in his slightly accellerated heartbeat, in the smell of tiredness that mingled with the distress, and watched the disorientation turn into fear into the sniper’s eyes.
He listened to Crosshair's heartbeat spike to the point that it was bordering on panic, only to slow down slightly when the fear in the mismatched orbs was wiped away by dark resignation.
He swallowed watching the sniper move stiffly to leave the corner of the bunk he had curled up into, his bunk, and slowly scoot over to sit on the edge, his gaze fixing on the floor as he waited.
He breathed in a couple of times before he managed to speak. “Crosshair?”
The sniper’s jaw clenched and he remained still, waiting for his next move. He tried reaching out to him in his mind, not touching, just carefully feeling for his emotions. His jaw clenched too when he felt the strands of fear and resignation coming from the sniper’s side of the bond before his control tightened enough to hide even that from him. For a short, nostalgic moment it felt like it had in the past, when his omega would shield and hide the darkness filling his mind from him, then he shook his head slightly, taking a half step forward.
“Crosshair, can I come closer?”
The sniper didn’t say a word, only reached up to push the hood off his head and haunched his shoulders a bit more. He took it as an affirmative sign and reached him, slowly, his hands open and away from his body, trying to look as unthreatening as he could. He stopped when he was a couple of steps away from him, watching Crosshair lift his head.
He didn’t look at him in the eyes, the sniper’s mismatched orbs barely reached his chest, as he spoke softly. “I’ll do what you want, just…please…don’t let her hear. She’s still a kid.”
He swallowed hard at that, an unpleasant cold wave spreading across his skin. He moved slowly, going to stand in front of him, watching the sniper slowly shrink in himself. He kept his eyes on his face, on Crosshair’s once again gaunt features as he slowly lowered on his knees half a step in front of him.
He hadn’t immediately thought about the consequences of him lashing out the way he had back at the base. It had been an automatic response, something they used to do back in the war, a quick way to make sure that the squad would keep operating when in a pinch, and not stop mid-action. It had been wrong then, it had always felt wrong, but he had still used that method to make things work, and he had been so sure Crosshair remembered and was going to shield somehow. He had hoped that his verbal warning had been enough to alert him, but afterwards he realized that clearly Crosshair was not ready, in any way.
He hadn't needed Echo's angry scolding, or the threats that Flatline had hissed at him in private back at the base. He already knew he had done something irreparable.
He knew he had to make amends somehow, but the sniper’s mind felt so full of fear that he truly didn’t know how to even start approaching the subject.
He forced himself to lift his eyes and see what he had done to the man sitting in front of him, to see what his choices had done to the one he had loved, who had been his omega, his mate.
The deep tiredness dulling the mismatched eyes was only partially due to the days spent faking being asleep while holding vigil. It was a deeper kind of tiredness, something that came from deep within.
He looked worn out. Wrecked.
He couldn’t stop the tears gathering and making his eyes burn, breathing in carefully while he tried to meet the sniper’s elusive gaze. He didn’t manage to and swallowed, cringing slightly at his own cracking voice. “Crosshair? Look at me?”
The sniper shook his head, going on as if he hadn’t even heard him. “I can…do it. I can be back with you…just…” He watched him take a deep breath and clench his fists, struggling with words as if he had to tear them from his mouth one by one. “Just let Atin be where he is. He has a home…don’t take him from there, I can…I can give you an-another…”
His eyes grew wider with every word that squeezed out of him, and something in his chest tightened when he heard his voice break. He took a deep breath, leaning forward. “Crosshair, look at me…please?”
It was an effort, one that the sniper took his time to make, but in the end he raised his eyes, looking at him. Something unpleasant clenched in his stomach as he stared into the amber eye.
He had loved the golden hue that made his mate’s eyes bright so much, but now he couldn’t find it. It seemed to have drained away from his remaining eye, as if it had been snuffed by the dull darkness filling the sniper’s gaze.
He couldn’t hold the tears in anymore at the thought that he was the cause for that loss and let them fall, drawing ticklish paths down his cheeks. “I am sorry… for everything I did to you, and let others do… I am sorry.”
He sniffled slightly, holding his gaze. “I will never force you to do anything again. I will never take anything from you again. Atin is your child and he’s wonderful. I have seen the home you have made for him, and the lenghts you went to protect him. I saw the family you built for him. That is his place. I will never take him from there. Never.”
He shook his head when he made to interrupt. “What I did to you was wrong in every way. I should have never left you, I should have never stopped looking for you. It was my duty to protect you and yet I didn’t. It was all my fault and this…” He touched his chest out of reflex, but gave a light stroke to the bond between them. “…this I did only to try and repay the debt I have with you, and with Atin. You are the best parent he could ask for and I couldn’t let him lose you, or you lose him. There’s no one more deserving than you to be happy with your son.”
A shaking phantom of a laugh startled him and he clenched his fists where they rested on his thighs. “I’m not that man anymore…I can’t be that parent anymore…I won’t be…useful…to him…”
He tilted his head slightly, still staring into the sniper’s darkening eyes. “You will always be a good parent, Cross. Give yourself time. Atin will help you back to what you were before.”
Crosshair shook his head, breaking eye contact. His eyes locked on the floor and didn’t move from there. “He shouldn’t have to live with this…with…me. I know that going back now is…a mistake.”
He frowned at that, totally at a loss on what to say. Some small part deep in him felt that he was probably right. It was clear to anyone who looked at him that someone with Crosshair's past and current history shouldn't go back to live a civil life just yet. He knew that he needed support and to grow stronger again before they could be sure he would be able to take care of himself and not mess things up, but a bigger part of him wanted to scream and rant that it wasn't true.
He froze as the sniper took a deep breath, clenching his fists on his thighs. “I know that going back now is a mistake… I’m not ready to face him... not yet.”
Crosshair nodded to himself, as if to gather the firmness he needed for his next words. “I thought about it a lot. I can’t be what keeps him from his heritage. I can’t let him be the son of a dar’vod and… be the reason because he will be dar’manda. I decided that I will accept the Commanders’ offer and try and redeem my name.”
He couldn’t help but stare at the sniper, his eyes wide and lips parted in surprise. He was silent for a few long, endless moments, then he managed to swallow the surprise enough to stutter. “W-what?! You… you said…you were set on going back to Atin…”
Crosshair grimaced, but kept going. “I know what I said. It’s what I wanted, but now… I know that’s not what I must do.” He shook his head. “Look at me, Hunter. I’m a mess. What kind of damages will I do to him if I return as I am now?”
He held his breath when the sniper finally met his eyes. He was right, of course. There was so little of the man he had known since they were tubies in the omega in front of him that he couldn’t find the words to contest.
Crosshair must have read his thoughts on his face, for he nodded, his expression darkening a bit more. “You know that I am right. You are the Sergeant of the squad, do what you need to tell Rex I’ll take on his missions. That is, if you still want me on board…”
His eyebrows nearly reached the line of his hair as he held the sniper’s gaze.
Of course he wanted him on board. He had been yearning for Crosshair’s presence for years, for his unfaltering support and protection during missions. For the tightly knit unit they had been during the war, that needed only a glance to communicate. And, in a small and dusty part of his heart, even for a tiny, single chance to return to what there was between them.
He had never stopped hoping for that, sometimes even praying that some unknown force would pull them back together again. He pushed the thought aside despite the warm little spark it lit in his chest, thinking about what Crosshair had just said.
Spending a little more time with them could be a positive development for their brother. He could take part in missions with them, he could rebuild his strenght and better his self esteem. They could help him to grow stronger again, and then go back to Atin if he wished to, and take care of their pup.
He startled for a moment when Crosshair’s fist relaxed, his hand half rising in the air to call his attention back. “You still want me… on board?”
The pause had been long enough to leave him wondering if Crosshair was asking him something else beyond having him on the Maurader for a mission, but he straightened his back, nodding even before he had fully realized what he was asking. “Of course I want you on board. This ship will always be your home too.”
Crosshair nodded, his lips curving in a tiny smile that never reached his eyes. “Thanks. And… I’d have some other request since I’ll be staying.”
He nodded without hesitation, trying to contain the joy that was quickly building in his chest. “Anything we can do, we will do.”
Crosshair’s gaze faltered for a moment before locking again. “Actually, it’s something that only you can do. And I’d like to keep it private from the rest of the squad. It’s a… kind of a deal. Between us.”
Again, he nodded without really thinking. “What is it?”
Crosshair took a deep breath, then started laying out his requests.
-CROSSHAIR-
He knew the other members of the squad were not going to take favorably his change of heart, and just closed his eyes when the first raised voices echoed from the cockpit. He leaned his head and his back against the wall behind him, listening to the chaos that ensued, so noisy that he was ready the moment the first member of the squad burst into the sleeping area.
Wrecker was livid as he strode up to him, and he schooled his face into a blank mask the moment the alpha stopped in front of the bunk. He forced his body to keep still even if his brother’s growl made him shake inside, grateful that he was already sitting with the corner at his back.
He let Wrecker rant and growl, quietly telling him the exact same thing he had said to Hunter. The more he repeated it the more he grew confident with the idea, and with burying the tiny voice that screamed in the back of his head. He clenched his hands to the point of sinking his nails into his palms when Wrecker finally stormed off, turning his gaze tiredly to Echo.
He fended off the reg’s quiet questions, feeling a deep tiredness seep in his body the more the ARC’s frown deepened. He wasn’t almost listening anymore to his reasoning when Omega’s turn to inquire came, answering as if on autopilot. He knew he was starting to dissociate and did his best to come back from it when Echo crouched in front of him.
He met the reg’s eyes, fighting with himself to not lower his gaze. “Crosshair. You have to go back, at least to see Atin once. Go meet him, spend some time with him, then you can decide if that’s what you really want to do.”
He shook his head, holding his gaze. “If I go back there I won’t be able to leave. I have already decided.” He took a deep breath then stood, walking past them. “If you don’t want me on board it’s fine. I understand. I’ll go back to the base and ask Rex for a relocation. He must have a squad that I can join…”
Wrecker emerged from the corridor at that, his voice a low irritated growl. “The hell you are going out there alone!”
He curved his lips into the phantom of a smile, but he knew without looking that it didn’t reach his eyes. Wrecker’s gaze only turned darker and more troubled, but he turned to Tech the moment the slicer hesitantly spoke up. “If you are really convinced to stay we will have to arrange a sleeping turnation. There’s no space left to add another bunk.”
“I don’t need a bunk.” He nearly sighed at the silence that wrapped around them all. “You know I don’t sleep on beds. That isn’t going to change. I’ll take the gunner mount.”
Omega threw a look around before trying. “Crosshair…I fit in there when I was ten. You won’t be able to sleep, it’s too cramped up!”
“I’ll manage. It won’t be the worst place I slept in.”
Heavy silence spread around them and he sighed through his nose, turning to Tech. The slicer was frowning, studying him, and he just asked. “Do you have spare blankets in the storage? One will do.”
Tech’s frown only deepened but he clenched his teeth and waited patiently, preparing fo the long days that were coming.
---
The paperwork for his admittance into the rebel’s troops was the easiest part of the hours that came after he had made his decision known.
Tech took the job upon himself, sending the communication to all the officers he had to warn of his decision, but still glancing at him from time to time. He seemed to be on the point of telling him something, more than once, but the moment they made eye contact all words seemed to die on his brother’s lips.
He pressed his lips tight when Tech finally stood leaving his seat, leaving him alone in the silent cockpit. He snorted at himself, closing his eyes while he run a hand down his face.
Things had to be worse than he realized if he had managed to shut up his overly talkative brother.
He sighed, his hand still covering his eyes, when Wrecker’s warm smell engulfed him. He felt him crouch beside him and lean against his leg, and he looked up in mismatched eyes that mirrored his.
The anguish reflected on that face he loved was so deep that his stomach twisted as Wrecker spoke. “Please, Cross, think again. Let us bring you home. Please…”
He shook his head, crossing his arms on his chest as he fought with the instinct to reach out to his brother. “I have already decided. In two hours it will be day and I’ll call Atin to tell him.”
Wrecker’s mouth hung open for a hanful of seconds, then he tried again. “How can you just do that to him? You know how much he depends on you, and you want to leave him there, alone for two years for what? So that regs are not angry at you anymore?!”
“He is not alone. And we already talked about this. I’m not going back on what I decided.”
“Don’t be stubborn…”
“It’s not about being stubborn. It’s about doing what is right for my pup. And that is exactly what I am doing right now.”
Wrecker shook his head, looking down. He made as if to speak again when Tech stepped into the cockpit, sitting at the pilot seat. “There’s a call incoming. Rex wants to talk to you, alone.”
He nodded to the slicer, then turned to Wrecker. He still wasn’t going, his eyes pleading. “Please, Cross. Don’t do it.”
He reached out and patted his shoulder, leaving his seat to walk to the holoprojector. He crossed his arms on his chest, listening to his brothers exit the cockpit and the door closing behind their backs.
He took a moment to school his features before he breathed in deeply and pressed the button, and the light of Rex’s light-blue hologram lit the cockpit.
---
Talking with Rex about his change of heart was rather easy. Talking with Flatline about that was a bit harder, but he gave him the motivations he had reflected upon, and even if he wasn’t happy the medic hadn’t been able to contest them.
He couldn’t shake the impression that every word he spoke to Rex and Flatline felt like nails bolting his feet to the floor of the Maurader, but he tried all the same to speak as if he was feeling more sure than what he really felt.
Answering the call coming from the code of the Chief and talking to the people of the place he called home was way, way harder. He knew they wouldn’t be able to completely understand why he wasn’t coming home.
Finis did, for a small part, he had explained to her the concepts of Manda and Dar’manda years before. He could see it in her eyes that she understood, but even she pleaded him to just go back to them.
It was getting harder and harder to keep breathing through the tight knot that was strangling his throat, but he managed to end the call with her without spilling a tear.
What truly killed him, was the moment Atin’s face appeared in front of him. He did his best to not let the burning he felt in his nose turn into tears, to not let the pain that was clawing at him show.
He tried to explain, but even if he saw that Atin had understood what he was telling him, he still wasn’t accepting it. Something in his chest broke as the happiness of seeing him slowly turned into confusion, then into anger. Angry tears run down his pup’s cheeks, and he remained silent staring at the empty light-blue field of light that was left when Atin ran off.
He said his goodbyes to Finis, hearing only a few words of what she said trying to comfort him, promising to answer when Atin would feel like hearing from him again.
He left the cockpit in silence, swallowing hard when all eyes on board turned to him, breathing in slowly at the mix of discomfort, irritation and pity he felt coming from them. All he could do was mutter that he was taking a shower and disappear into the fresher, keeping his breath under control until he was under the spray of hot water.
He let it go then, letting the tears that were chocking him fall, pressing his forehead to the wall of the stall, hoping that the noise of the falling water would cover his sobs enough that Hunter wouldn’t hear and change ideas.
He remained under the spray until his tears were spent and all that remained to do was to wash, leaving the stall the moment he was done. He slipped into a set of clean civil clothes Flatline had provided for him, making a mental note to ask Tech to find him something to wear under his armor in the Rebellion’s stocks.
He had to find an alternative since he wasn’t allowed to wear blacks anymore and swallowed hard when his eyes fell on the scent blockers his brother had left for him on the small shelf over the sink.
It seemed to have been a reasonable request that their unofficial medic had no problem to satisfy and he picked them up, staring at the squares of blocking synthetic material.
He hesitated only slightly before unpacking and applying them on his scent glands, sealing the distraught smell he was letting out.
He looked up to the small mirror bolted to the wall, frowning at his reddened eye. He couldn’t relax yet, he had to make sure that he was really back into the squad, to keep an eye on Hunter and keep him away from Atin.
It was too soon to act, too soon to give him anything but quick glances. He had to be patient and wait, to recall all that he had been trained to be. He had to lay low and wait for a chance to bind Hunter back to him without the help of the bond, to make sure that he was enough and that the alpha wouldn’t have any desire to go back to Atin, ot to let him go.
He started planning while staring at his image reflected in the mirror, waiting for the redness in his eye to disappear.
===========
Mando'a:
Dar'vod: no longer a brother
Dar'manda: the state of being exiled, a severing of all ties to the Mandalorian culture, heritage and the concept of Manda. A total disconnection from their own identity.
Manda: the collective soul of Mandalorian people. The set of rules and philosophy guiding mandalorian culture.