The Bad Batch - One shots

Dry Drowning

Crosshair's the only one who notices that Omega is drowning after the escape from Kamino.

///

Crosshair was sure he was the only one who noticed.

Everyone else was sulking, upset that either the hell they called home had sunk to Davy Jones' Locker, or that they had to work once again with the brother who became their enemy. He wouldn't have gone with them by choice, but being stranded on Kamino didn't seem like such a wise idea either.

Crosshair couldn't care less if they were angry at him, he was angry at them too, but Hunter could at least stop brooding to notice that his precious little sister was suffering from secondary drowning.

He very nearly scoffed when Hunter announced he was going to jump in after the girl. It was as if he'd forgotten his basic training.

It was all okay to say that nobody would get left behind, but Hunter wouldn't be able to swim into the murky depths to find Omega and bring her back to the surface unless he had a cybernetic respiratory system like Echo. The cyborgs' scomp link made him a poor swimmer anyway.

Crosshair, on the other hand, had his eyesight. Even without the scope of his Firepuncher, he could see the silhouette of the girl and her annoying droid friend as they were dragged deeper and deeper into Kamino's relentless waves. His hands had moved subconsciously, lining up his rifle and attaching the grappling hook.

He considered aiming for the girl's shoulder, but ultimately decided against it. He didn't need Hunter barking at him for tearing every ligament in her arm, or potentially dislocating the entire limb. The droid was more durable, and Crosshair cared less about making a few dents in metal than human flesh.

The change in pressure as he pulled the girl to the surface had already left a mark. She had stumbled up the steps of the Marauder, his sharp eyes catching a red stain beneath her right ear. Still, it was better than drowning. When she emerged, she was unconscious with blue lips, and Crosshair felt a deep throb in his chest that he'd never felt before.

Then, she had coughed, and he felt some of the tension lift off his shoulders. If she was coughing, that meant she could breathe, and everyone assumed she had survived the worst of it.

Too bad none of the others knew how to recognise the signs of dry drowning. If Crosshair hadn't decided to go with them, the girl might be dead by the end of the night cycle.

The remaining salt water in her lungs would cause swelling, the alveoli working harder and harder to exchange oxygen to and from her blood whilst they filled with water. Her heart rate would slow down, and by the time the others realised, it would likely be too late to do anything to save her.

Crosshair considered how it could play in his favour, if the girl were to die in her sleep. Nobody would blame him; he would act as obnoxious as the others. Maybe then, Hunter would finally see that he and the rest of the squad did have a place with the Empire, and they could be a real family again.

The corners of his lips lifted at the thought, even as he watched the girl's chest spasm as she fought to hold back her coughs. Hunter was still fussing, flapping his hands as he ordered her to change out of her wet clothes and put on a pair of his blacks that comically dwarfed her small form.

Then, he'd sat her in the hull, the warmest place in the ship, with a steaming cup of caf. It was somewhat amusing to watch the girl grimace every time she took a sip, obviously despising the bitter flavour, from where he sat opposite her.

Eventually, the girl gave up with her drink, passing it to Wrecker who was just as clueless to her deteriorating condition as the others. Crosshair noted that she was lethargic, leaning her head against the back of the seat and taking such deep breaths that the bottom of her ribcage was pulling inwards with the effort.

One could blame panic for inducing these types of symptoms, or just the crash of adrenaline following their escape. Crosshair was smarter than that. Clones could swim, but not very well. Even he and the squad were never that good, always spluttering salt water for hours after their swimming lessons.

He was certain that Omega, as the others called her, was going to become very unwell, very quickly, if they didn't act fast.

"Are you okay?" He asked in a bored tone, wondering if she would admit it.

The girl blinked like she hadn't expected him to address her directly, and Crosshair raised an eyebrow.

"I'm fine," she replied, wheezing behind her words. There was an edge to her tone, an attitude.

Her change in mood only confirmed what he predicted. Part of Crosshair was content to sit and watch her deteriorate, if for the only sake of being able to tell Hunter that the girl would slow them down anyway, but a smaller and more insecure part of him was protesting.

Omega was the only one who thought there was some good left in him, even if he couldn't see it himself.

With a sigh, Crosshair stood up, still feeling the lingering effects of being stunned and then waking up under a sheet of metal. Omega had saved him back there, and he had said that they were even now, but she was still very much at risk, and they wouldn't be even if she ended up dead.

"Where are you-" the girl was cut off by a series of hacking coughs that sounded like her lungs were lined with rust. She gasped for breath, eyes wide and panicked. Her nostrils flared with every desperate inhale as she clutched her chest.

Next to her, Wrecker erupted into chaos mode, demanding what was wrong and ordering that she needed to breathe. Behind him, Crosshair heard the cockpit doors open, the others racing in to see what was wrong.

"Omega, Omega," Hunter crouched in front of the girl, holding her shoulders firmly, "Breathe for me, kid, it's alright."

"She's drowning," Crosshair said with something of a sneer.

"Omega, breathe," Hunter ignored him, completely focused on the girl who was choking on her own breaths.

Crosshair couldn't help but roll his eyes, glancing at Tech who was getting a scanner ready. "Water on the lungs."

"I think he might be right," Tech said, not speaking to him but to the others. Omega's coughs simmered down to pained gasps and wheezes. Hunter had basically gathered her into his arms, rubbing her back and murmuring something too soft for Crosshair to catch.

Something twisted deep in his gut. He wanted to call it anger- rage that this girl had become closer to the rest of the squad in a matter of weeks than he had in years, but it wasn't that. Crosshair didn't regulate his emotions well enough to identify them, but this was obvious.

He was jealous.

Why? Because before Omega, and before Echo, he had been the one who the others looked out for. He was the one who received comfort despite how hostile he seemed to the others. He was the weak one who needed protecting.

It was part of the reason why it was Crosshair's personal mission to come across as cold as possible. Behind closed doors, he was nothing but a shell. If anyone besides his squad knew about his insecurities and doubts, he'd have been decommissioned.

And now, he could feel those aches and pains of wanting to be good enough return at full force, and he wasn't the point of anyone's concern.

"What do we do?" Hunter asked, breaking Crosshair from his thoughts. "Tech?"

"She needs oxygen," Tech said, not lifting his eyes from his datapad, "The fluid needs to be removed from her lungs, but that can only be done with diuretics and positive air pressure. Two things that I cannot do from here."

Then, Hunter turned his gaze to Crosshair, his eyes pleading, "Where can we go that's safe?"

The jealousy burned through his chest again, his eyes surely turning green. Crosshair flickered his gaze to the girl huddled into Hunter's chest, shivering with every quick breath.

"Crosshair," Hunter said again.

"There's lots of planets the Empire hasn't seized yet," Crosshair said, drawing everyone's eyes to him. "If you have a look around, I'm sure you can find a hospital somewhere."

"Do you know which planets?" Echo asked.

He nodded stiffly, locking eyes with Omega, "Yes."