Sharp Edges: Crosshair x Reader [NSFW]

Kintsugi

When you got home, you immediately threw off your heels and flopped onto the couch, curling up in a ball in the middle. Crosshair quietly joined, pulling your legs across his lap as you snuggled up, facing him sideways. You searched your scattered thoughts, trying to pull years worth of shattered memories into a coherent train of...at least something you could verbalize. You needed to share, wanted to share. You owed him that much, and you also felt for the first time the desire to let someone in. You wanted to be understood, to be known... It was terrifying and irresistible. But you had no idea how.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Crosshair stated quietly, moving his hands softly down your calves and beginning to rub small circles with his thumbs across the sides and bottoms of your feet.

"No, I...I want to," you whispered, glancing up at him for a moment before returning your gaze to his shoulder. "I'm just not sure where to start."

A soft silence settled between you both for a moment. You could hear the quiet whirr of the traffic lanes outside your window, the measured ticking of the chrono on your wall and Crosshair's almost imperceptible breaths matching the rise and fall of his chest.

"You asked me who Scout was," Crosshair said suddenly, and it took you a moment to remember where you'd heard the name. "He.." Crosshair stopped to clear his throat a little, "...he was my brother." His nightmare. His whimpering. His anguish. You lifted your wide eyes to his again, and the dark pools of emotion that met your gaze were heart-wrenching. He looked away, mouth twisting in grief, and you lowered your head to his shoulder, placing a hand on his chest as you listened quietly.

"There were more of us, before Echo... We were all enhanced in various ways and placed over separate squads of regs, to be deployed for specific tasks that fit our capabilities. Sometimes we would work together, sometimes not. Scout and I were on a mission on Felucia to take out a tactical droid with information about the locations of Republic medical stations. He went ahead for recon, I was setting my shot up from a ridge. The regs had given us bad intel, though..." his face contorted in anger and hurt, voice low and controlled as he continued. "Scout was captured. I don't know how, other than sheer numbers... He was similar to Hunter and me, with enhanced senses and vision, and would go out ahead to find a safe path for us in virtually any situation."

"I called my brothers for help. The Republic was trying to negotiate for his release, but the Commerce Guild was stalling. They were torturing Scout for information. By the time my brothers arrived, the tactical droid was inside as well already, so we infiltrated the hideout. Wrecker tore the droid apart but they discovered our presence and..." his voice grew thick, pausing for a moment as though the words themselves were choking him. He swallowed hard before finishing, "They killed Scout before we could get to him." You could feel the brokenness and regret emanating from him, and his fist clenched on his lap.

"The best part," he said, spitting the word with vitriol, "is that the mission was still a success, because we completed our objective. Scout was just... collateral damage." The sorrow washed over you, and instead of resisting out of self-preservation, you let it in. You allowed it to permeate your thoughts -- the loss, the heartache, the regret, the endless ways it could have ended differently. Crosshair's hard exterior wasn't just from his war-torn existence, just like yours wasn't just from the harsh realities of life.

"I can't imagine," you whispered, sitting up to look at him again. His own eyes had a sheen over them now, and his eyebrows were low. You lifted a hand to his cheek, giving it a tender caress, and your heart flipped in your chest as he closed his eyes, remaining still as a statue.

"If I had gone in by myself... If the regs had gotten it right... If my brothers had been there..." he began, but you placed a finger to his lips, leaning gently against the side of his head.