Star Wars One-Shots

Not Something That Has To Be Earned

Tension was to be expected.

While they didn't realize that they'd be picking up an extra passenger (or two) when they landed on that moon, they should have known considering Omega's warm personality and magnetic determination.

What was most surprising was Crosshair's silent agreement to join them. Upon seeing him on that ramp, Hunter's muscles tensed. He prepared for a fight, an argument about everything and anything that happened in the years they've been apart and painfully crossed paths.

But Crosshair didn't even raise his voice when he said he was wrong.

Just awkwardly stood there, not quite meeting any of their eyes.

Except Omega's.

And Batcher's.

For Wrecker, that only left Crosshair one option.

To join them.

And to Hunter's shock, his brother didn't put up a fight. He just entered after Omega, keeping Batcher close to his side. 

Since then, things have been uncomfortable. Not just because Crosshair is back, but also because of how much all of them have changed. Little sleep and always being on the move have worn Hunter and Wrecker more than they care to acknowledge.

Omega has been spending every single second out in the ship, commenting on everything that she's missed since her kidnapping. She's brought a sorely missed light back into the ship that Hunter didn't even take time to realize was missing.

He just wanted her back, not realizing how much of an impact the little girl had left on the team.

And Crosshair has been confined to his bunk or the cockpit by his own choosing. If anyone dares to enter where he is, he apologizes for being in the way and quietly excuses himself to anywhere else in the ship. Batcher is the only one who seems to be allowed in his personal space, though Omega slips through the cracks before Crosshair suddenly remembers that he's supposed to locking himself away.

Like he's some unwanted guest that has overstayed their welcome and knows that they're not wanted.

So after a few days of watching him struggle to even continue a conversation about breakfast with Wrecker, Hunter takes it upon himself to find something that even this strange version of Crosshair would have difficulty turning down.

"Hey, Crosshair." Hunter says as he peeks his head into the cockpit.

The sniper turns and Batcher immediately hops off his lap, drooling as she jumps onto Hunter's legs to beg for a few pats.

He avoids her tongue and lightly scruffs the side of her head before she hops back down. "You got a minute?"

Crosshair shrugs, his attention on the viewport. "I suppose the cockpit can be left unattended for a bit." He replies with that snarky bite that makes Hunter's heart clench with familiarity. 

"I've got something for you." He says. He then gestures for his brother to follow. Looking as aloof as possible, Crosshair rises from his seat. Trailing through the Marauder, the lanky brother weaves between the seats and crates of new belongings they've accumulated since his last mission with them.

A mission when the galaxy was still under a Republic.

He shakes his head as he follows Hunter, attempting to clear his head from those thoughts. It's not something he enjoys dwelling on. His own head can't quite keep up with how it really happened, blurring those first few months into some lonely nightmare. Not that he really wants to remember the details anyway.

At the back of the ship, Hunter opens the storage underneath the floor. He jumps down with purpose, his feet slipping slightly as he lands. After listening to a few seconds of sliding crates and dropped items, Hunter reappears with a large crate in his arms.