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Hunter didn’t sit in his informally assigned seat at the kitchen table this morning. He was ready for the suspicious glare he received as a result.
He didn’t attempt to wave off Crosshair, who he was now sitting directly across from. Hunter just shifted his plate upon the table and joined his brother in eating the breakfast Wrecker had prepared for them before he had headed off to the fishing docks. It had also been his day to walk Omega to the schoolhouse, which had given both Crosshair and Hunter the freedom to move at a slower pace this morning.
It had also allowed Hunter to dwell even more on the nagging thoughts he had been having. His regrets most of all.
Easily the biggest of those regrets was the distance that continued to sit between himself and his youngest brother. Despite the amends they had made months ago, Hunter still sensed something of an abyss between them, a missing chunk of time and closeness they had never tried to make up for.
Now that they had all the time in the galaxy, Hunter was starting to wonder if he could bridge that gap. It would be risky, but he had never been one to shy away from the hard stuff. This battleground was far different from the one he was used to, but it did little to deter him.
Hunter waited until he had nearly cleaned his plate to finally speak up into their peaceful silence. “So, uh… what was it like?” Hunter reached for the cup of water he had gotten and started lifting it to his lips. “Being a commander?”
Crosshair froze, aside from the trembling of his left hand that was still getting used to becoming a dominant force. He narrowed his eyes as Hunter sipped his water. Crosshair waited until his brother had finished to hiss out a response. “What are you doing?”
Hunter huffed. “Eating breakfast.” He waved his fork towards Crosshair. “And trying to make conversation.”
Crosshair slowly resumed motion, watching his fork as it moved towards the last morsels of food on his plate. “We don’t do that.”
Hunter shrugged. “We used to.”
Crosshair let out a bitter scoff. “Yeah, well, things have changed, Hunter.” He angrily forked his next bite of food. “If you hadn’t noticed.”
“I know.” Hunter set down his fork and focused entirely on his brother, his brow furrowed in honest conviction. “But they can change again. We spent a lot of time apart, Crosshair. I just…” He let out a breath and raked a hand through his hair. “I want to know what it was like.”
Crosshair threw his own utensil down onto his plate, making a sharp clang! sound as he snarled. “What what was like? The Empire?” He pointed an accusatory finger in Hunter’s direction. “Still debating where my loyalties lie, even after everything?”
Hunter’s eyes widened as he raised his hands in surrender. “No, Cross. There’s no ulterior motive here. You know I trust you.” He hesitated. Maybe he should’ve planned this out better. “I just want to know what your life was like when we were apart. That’s all.”
Hunter could sense the blow coming before Crosshair delivered it. “You would’ve known if you had bothered to come around and find out.”
Knowing it was coming didn’t make it any less devastating to hear. Hunter deflated, his chest tightening and his hands lowering back to the table as he tightened his jaw to maintain his composure. “That’s not fair.”
Crosshair glowered at him. “I don’t have to be.”
Hunter closed his eyes and took a more intentional deep breath. He couldn’t cave to the flare of frustration inside his chest, not when he had been the one playing with fire. Some things about his youngest brother had changed over time, but this, his ire, hadn’t. If Hunter wanted to avoid it, then he shouldn’t have spoken at all.
But they had been ruled deviant for a reason. Hunter just wanted to keep learning how to use that for things other than chaos. For good. For peace.
The best Hunter could do in this moment was exhale a breath and push his plate away, crossing his arms and resting them upon the table. “You know why we couldn’t do that, Crosshair.”
His words were met with a bitter scoff. “Enlighten me.”
Hunter reopened his eyes, which undoubtedly betrayed his disbelief. “You were trying to kill us, and I had Omega to worry about.”
“Omega wouldn’t want you to use her as an excuse.”
Hunter’s defensiveness started to get the best of him, the way it always did when Omega was involved. “You…”
Threatened to kill her were the words Hunter just barely stopped himself from saying. Crosshair always had a way of doing this, of getting people to do exactly what he was accusing them of doing. Hunter tightened his hands into fists and closed his eyes again, letting out a breath that was almost a growl as he fought against the instincts that begged for a fight.
His voice was ragged when he mustered a different response. “I don’t want to argue.”
“Then you made a mistake trying to change things.”
Crosshair slammed his one hand on the table and stood from his chair aggressively enough to make it squeal along the floor. Hunter cringed at the sound of it, even more sensitive against his keen ears.
“I told you before, Hunter. That old version of us died with Tech.” Crosshair’s voice faltered enough on the name for it to worsen the sharp pang of agony it brought to a largely unhealed portion of Hunter’s heart. “We’ll never be the way we were again, so it’s best you get used to that instead of trying to ruin whatever peace we’ve found here.”
Crosshair didn’t wait around to see how the harsh words landed. Instead, he left, stalking towards the front door and ensuring it slid closed right in Batcher’s whimpering face.
Hunter cursed and buried a hand into his hair as he leaned his elbow on the table. All things considered, that could have gone much worse. But Hunter was still berating himself for trying to broach the topic in such a blunt, undignified way. There was a reason why Omega had always been better at this than him.
He just didn’t know how to get Crosshair to understand that he wanted to know things. Not because he didn’t trust him. Not because he wanted to judge his mistakes.
But because Crosshair was right. Hunter had already failed him by not being there, by not rescuing him. And he wanted to make up for it.
Above all else, though, Hunter just wanted his brother back. Not the shell of a man the Empire had made him into.
Batcher’s whining pulled Hunter back to reality as she made her way from the door to his side. She plopped down beside his chair, and Hunter was quick to lean down and scratch along her scruff. He let out a breath and kept his voice low.
“Sorry, girl. This one’s on me.” He shook his head at himself. “We’ll be okay.”
Hunter made the reassurance as much for himself as he had for Batcher.
He carried that hope, as foolish as it may have been, with him through the remainder of the day. Crosshair stayed out of the house, which was a predictable move given how the morning had gone. Hunter had cleaned both their dishes, tended to the house and the garden outside, and did any other chores and busywork he could get his hands on before it was time to retrieve Omega from the schoolhouse.
It was only the grin Omega wore when she spotted Hunter outside the schoolhouse that alleviated some of the heavy weight he had been carrying around all day. She reached for his hand immediately, a habit Hunter was more happy than he was willing to admit that she hadn’t fallen out of yet, and held onto it as they made their way home.
But Omega was intuitive, and that meant Hunter was ready for her questions before she had even started to ask them. “Where’s Crosshair?”
Hunter tried, and failed, not to stiffen at the sound of his name. It earned him an inquisitive raise of Omega’s brow, though he kept his expression and his tone as even as he could. “On a walk.”
Omega hummed quietly. “Is Batcher with him?”
Hunter shook his head. “She’s at home.”
“So, Crosshair’s alone.”
Hunter nodded. He couldn’t help the somber grimace that tugged at his lips.
Omega’s grasp on his hand tightened. “Did something happen?”
Hunter’s jaw circled as he searched for the words. He didn’t have to. The pause he took spoke for him.
“You tried talking to him.”
Hunter let out a mirthless huff. “I tried.”
Omega drew herself closer to his side. “What’d you say?”
Hunter’s lips tightened in embarrassment he tried to hide. “I, uh… asked him about before.”
Omega’s tone grew wary. “Before what?”
“Before he came back.”
Omega let out a disappointed sigh. “You asked him about the Empire?”
Hunter’s defensiveness got the best of him. “I was being honest. I want to know what it was like.”
“But, Hunter, you know how he is!” Omega made a gesture with her free hand. “Of course he’s gonna take that the wrong way.”
Hunter sighed with his own amount of self-directed disappointment. “Yeah, I know. Guess I just…” He shrugged.
Omega’s gaze softened as she looked up at him. “Hoped for something different this time?”
Hunter nodded, his stare meeting hers. Omega brought herself even closer to him, wrapping her free hand around his arm.
“Well, it’s not too late. He’ll come around.” Omega squeezed his hand. “Maybe he’ll even come to you.”
Hunter hummed a low note. “Maybe.”
It was either that, or Crosshair would pretend they had never had that brief conversation to begin with. Hunter was more inclined to believe the latter, though he continued to hope however foolishly for the former.
Hunter was distracted by Omega’s company for the rest of the afternoon, and Wrecker’s return in the evening did even more to keep him busy. It wasn’t until Crosshair strolled back into the house during preparations for dinner that Hunter dwelled upon his failed attempt at a brotherly conversation earlier that morning.
It didn’t show during their meal, though. Not in front of Omega. Hunter and Crosshair at least both had the decency to keep Omega as unaffected by their strife as possible. Hunter gave his youngest brother as much space as possible, because as Omega had pointed out before, Hunter knew his brother. He couldn’t be the one seeking Crosshair out.
That was how Hunter ended up on the front stoop of their home, sitting underneath the Pabu moon and stars with only the soft chirps of insects and other island nightlife keeping him company. Omega had already gone to bed, and Hunter was certain Wrecker would follow her after such a long day spent out. Crosshair was unaccounted for, though that was a part of Hunter’s effort to give him some breathing room.
It didn’t last, though. Hunter could hear those distinct strides before the front door had even slid open behind him. The next thing to hit him was the familiar scent of tea, something that made his brow shoot up before Crosshair started settling himself down at Hunter’s side. His brother was only carrying a single mug—it was all he could carry, since he was still refusing a cybernetic hand for the time being—that he passed off to Hunter.
Crosshair started speaking before Hunter could even thank him for it. He set his stare upon the stars as he did so. “The Imperial officer I killed was a lieutenant. He hated clones. Referred to us as ‘equipment.’”
Hunter’s brow furrowed as he held the steaming mug of tea between his hands and gazed over at his brother. Crosshair’s jaw worked, a toothpick already rolling from one side of his mouth to the other. Hunter stayed silent yet attentive to his brother’s story.
“He went with me to that outpost on Barton Four. I was assigned with another commander, a Reg, who had already been stationed there. Only two members of his squad were still alive.”
Hunter grimaced, anger flaring inside his chest at the mere thought of it. That sure sounded like the Empire to him, the very same thing that Hunter had warned Crosshair about back on Kamino.
“They barely had any resources, but the lieutenant still kept sending them on their own after the outpost’s raiders anyway. Those last two men died in an attack, and the commander and I had to go retrieve the stolen crates ourselves.”
Crosshair paused, his voice thickening just enough for Hunter to notice. He never once looked away from Crosshair even as he patiently waited for him to go on.
“We got the crates back and found out it was gear. Gear that the commander and his men had needed, but fitted for their new soldiers.” Crosshair gnawed on the toothpick as his stare grew even more distant and haunted. “Then there was an avalanche, and the commander… he took the brunt of it to protect me. I managed to get us back to the outpost, but the lieutenant refused to give the commander any medical attention. He died right there.”
Crosshair’s voice was shaking with rage now, his words seething. Hunter bristled on his behalf, especially as he imagined himself and his squad in the same position.
“He could have saved him, and he didn’t. And that was when I realized it was pointless. All of it. And I shot that bastard right where he was standing.”
Crosshair plucked the toothpick from his lips and angrily flicked it off the stoop. He crossed his arms and rested them on top of his knees, which were almost tucked to his chest with the angle of the steps they sat upon. Crosshair’s expression morphed from seething to somber as he let out a sigh. His stare lowered to the ground beneath them.
“You were right, Hunter. Back on Kamino. Even if you all had joined me, the Empire would’ve just discarded us the same way they did Mayday and his men.”
Hunter softened at the strain in his youngest brother’s voice. He freed a hand from the mug of tea and set it gently upon Crosshair’s shoulder, afraid of startling him. When Crosshair didn’t move away, Hunter tightened his grasp. “Those were their helmets you were displaying at the outpost. Weren’t they?”
Crosshair nodded numbly. He didn’t say anything, and Hunter figured he couldn’t.
Hunter let out a sigh and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. His voice was low and honest as he found something to say. “I never wanted to be right, Crosshair.” He closed his eyes with all the pain that flared inside his chest. “I never wanted any of that to happen to you.”
“I thought we’d be safer with the Empire. All of us.” Crosshair gave his head an aimless shake, his voice far quieter than usual. “I really thought it was the better option.”
Hunter reopened his eyes just to watch Crosshair’s squeeze shut. His left hand tightened into a fist as something painful pinched his brow.
“But no matter what I did for them, it wasn’t enough.”
Crosshair looked over at Hunter. There was a shine to his eyes he couldn’t hide, no matter how hard he was trying to fight it. His tone was laced with bitterness that wasn’t aimed at Hunter, no matter how he was addressed.
“There you go, Hunter. That’s what it was like being a commander.”
Hunter shook his head. He was at a loss for words as his hand drifted from Crosshair’s shoulder to his upper back in a quiet attempt to bring him more comfort. When he spoke, it was with as much conviction as he could muster. “I’m sorry, Crosshair.”
He held his breath, pausing as his gaze searched the steaming contents of his mug. His voice lowered even more as he went on.
“I never wanted to leave you there. I hope you know that.” Hunter willed his voice not to break. “We were about to go find you.”
Crosshair shrugged, because that was all he could do. They were already venturing into territory that was far too dangerous for either one of them. These were wounds they didn’t want to touch, ones that they relied on time healing for them.
Hunter worked his jaw as he dwelled on that fateful day. “I should’ve fought you on it. That would’ve been better than going all that time without you.”
Crosshair scoffed. “Can you stop doing that?”
Hunter’s brow shot up. “Doing what?”
“Taking all the blame for it.” Crosshair shot him a look, though it lacked any true ire. “That makes you wrong. And self-centered.”
Hunter snorted, his lips curling up in a small smile of amusement. “Whatever you say.”
They sat in silence for a while after that. Hunter kept his hand on his brother’s back as the other lifted the mug to his lips, enjoying the tea Crosshair had brewed for him. This conversation was the closest Hunter would get to an apology, and Hunter had already uttered his. There were no more grudges to be held.
It made Hunter even more surprised by Crosshair’s confession, uttered so quietly that even Hunter’s sensitive ears had trouble hearing it.
“It hurts.”
Hunter was instantly alarmed by his words. He looked over at his brother, giving him a once-over until he saw it. Crosshair had shifted his arms, so that his left hand was now supporting the stump that had been sealed off on Tantiss.
Hunter softened in sympathy. He spoke just as quietly as Crosshair had. “Your hand?”
Crosshair nodded. He didn’t say anything else. He just stared at the empty space where his hand should have been. Hunter was gentle as he set down the mug of tea at his side and instead cradled Crosshair’s forearm, brushing his fingertips in a vain effort to soothe whatever pain he was feeling.
“How bad is it?”
Crosshair still didn’t speak. Hunter looked up to see his eyes filling with tears he refused to acknowledge. That was enough of an answer for him.
“Okay. Alright.” Hunter let out a worried sigh and ran his thumb over Crosshair’s back. He kept his hand where it was on Crosshair’s arm, watching as the furrow in his brother’s brow dissipated just a bit more at the contact. “Do you need me to comm Echo?”
Crosshair thought about Hunter’s proposal before shaking his head. Hunter hummed a low note, his eyes narrowing as he studied his brother up close and rephrased his question.
“Do you want me to comm Echo?”
Crosshair hesitated at that. His gaze flickered towards Hunter before he nodded, his jaw flexing in another effort to hold back his tears.
Hunter returned his nod. “Then I’ll reach out first thing tomorrow morning.” He let out a soft exhale, his own brow still furrowed in concern for him. “Is there anything I can do to help right now?”
Crosshair didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned closer, until his head was leaning against Hunter’s shoulder.
That was something they didn’t do. At least, not in a long, long time, and definitely not since they had been forced apart at the war’s end. But it was a change Hunter was more than willing to make. It was a bittersweet step towards the very thing he had been aiming for.
That made it even easier for Hunter to wrap his arm around his brother’s shoulders and pull him in closer. He rested his head against Crosshair’s and closed his eyes, indulging in every second of this rare amount of comfort and closeness between them. He didn’t want his brother to be in pain, but at least he was starting to invite him back in.
Ever since Crosshair had come back to them, Hunter had been willing to make things right again, and now, it finally seemed as if he was going to be able to do that. It wasn’t perfect; Hunter had already messed up. But just as he knew Crosshair, his brother knew him in return, and he was willing to extend enough grace to try to make things right.
They wouldn’t be the way they once were again, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t still be close. That they couldn’t learn how to truly know one another. Because they finally had the time to do so, after so much of it had already been taken from them.
And even if they were fighting, at least they could do that again. Hunter preferred that to any amount of distance between them, physical or metaphorical. They had already lost a brother. He refused to make either one of them lose another.
So Hunter held Crosshair tighter, the way he wished he had so long ago, and left the rest of it behind him. He was more than willing and able to do so for the brother he had spent far too long missing.