Chapter Text
Crosshair
The Havoc Marauder reached the nearest medical frigate within one hour and twenty-three minutes. One hour and twenty-three minutes had passed since Crosshair and Wrecker had found their brothers deep in the underground caverns of Hynestia. One hour and twenty-five minutes until Wrecker carried Tech to the nearest gurney and bellowed for assistance. One hour and twenty-seven minutes until Wrecker had reemerged from the shuttle with Hunter in his arms.
Hunter had woken in that time, though his actions and words were in a clear state of delirium as he reached for Tech while the nurse rushed away with Crosshair's best friend. Wrecker followed the nurse with Hunter held firmly in his broad arms, as Crosshair shadowed his two older brothers warily. His gaze had never stilled as the sniper judged the postures of every person he passed, waiting for the first sign of danger to act.
Fortunately for the medical staff, every person Crosshair passed ducked at his frigid glare. No threat came, even when the doctor took Tech into the operating room and ordered Wrecker to finally place Hunter on a gurney. It had taken five nurses and security guards to pull Wrecker out of Tech's operating room, while Crosshair had melded into the shadows of Hunter's room and watched every nurse and doctor that checked on his leader and older brother.
One nurse, who had clearly seen Crosshair's eyes tracking her movement from the red sheen of his tapetum lucidum, even screamed and fled from Hunter's room. Crosshair had watched her flight out of his brother's room intently, until a doctor stormed in, shoved Crosshair out of Hunter's room and forced the sniper to wait. To sit and wait for news on his brothers, while putting trust into nat-borns who knew nothing of Hunter and Tech.
Wrecker, having been thinking ahead the entire mission, informed Crosshair of giving the head nurse Hunter and Tech's medical files, one large hand finding its way to rest upon the sniper's shoulder. Crosshair leaned into Wrecker with his arms crossed over his chest, watched the door for intruders, and waited.
The head nurse came into the waiting room three times over to inform Crosshair and Wrecker upon the status of their brothers, though the Ferroan never allowed either to visit their brothers. Each report fueled Crosshair's anxiety, enough that he had to pace around the waiting room until Wrecker lifted Crosshair onto his lap and trapped the sniper within his arms. A struggle ensued until Wrecker's warmth won the final round and, with a sigh, Crosshair finally allowed himself to sleep.
Dreams of ice and loss and death chased Crosshair - as well as a haunting image of finding his brothers bleeding out into deep snow banks while Crosshair stood over them coldly - through his sleep, leaving him restless and exhausted when he woke up the next morning. Wrecker, who still had his arms wrapped around Crosshair, shifted as Crosshair squirmed in his brother's stiff grip, then lifted his head off of Crosshair's shoulder.
"Let go," Crosshair growled without venom as Wrecker slowly pulled himself back into the living, though a light growl was sent towards Wrecker as Crosshair felt his brother's hand ruffle through his short silver hair.
Wrecker chuckled before he released Crosshair, stretched, then gently nudged Crosshair off his lap. Crosshair grumbled at the intrusion lightly, when movement outside the waiting room door snapped Crosshair into a rigid stance. His fingers shifted towards the blaster at his hip until Crosshair recognized the Ferroan nurse from the night prior. With a low growl, Crosshair relaxed his stance as the nurse stepped before them, though the tension within his body never left. Not when his brothers were at the whim of doctors and nurses whom Crosshair knew nothing about.
The Ferroan nurse's gaze trained on Crosshair as she read out the report on Hunter, her eyes darting between Wrecker and Crosshair alike as she spoke. According to the nurse's report, Hunter had suffered a concussion and sprained right arm, and was under sedatives solely so that his overloaded senses could recover. After a grudging glare, the Ferroan directed Crosshair and Wrecker to Hunter's room, then afforded them a few minutes with their unconscious brother.
Wrecker shuffled to Hunter's side with careful, measured steps until Wrecker reached Hunter's left side, then Wrecker carefully kneeled down and buried his face against Hunter's chest. Crosshair watched Wrecker's right hand as it threaded into Hunter's curly hair, then shifted a cold look towards the nurse - who was still standing in the doorway, watching Crosshair and Wrecker warily.
She stiffened at Crosshair's glare, though the nurse straightened until her own glare met Crosshair's - albeit she was inches shorter than the sniper -, then the Ferroan let out a harsh sound. "Whatever your problem is with me, I am merely attempting to help your brothers. You don't need to be snappish with me-"
"How is Tech?" Crosshair interjected as he stepped towards the nurse, towering over her as Crosshair shifted his hand towards his holstered pistol. If the nurse made a move, he would act - Crosshair had to, after he had allowed Hunter and Tech to fall into the state they were in currently. Both literally and figuratively-
"Crosshair!"
Wrecker's snarl made Crosshair startle, moments before he felt Wrecker's left hand press against his armored chest. Crosshair glared up at his oldest brother as Wrecker pushed Crosshair backwards, all the way until Crosshair's thighs slammed against Hunter's bed. Wrecker met Crosshair's glare with a firm, penetrating glare that even made Crosshair back down, then turned to speak quietly to the nurse.
Crosshair watched Wrecker's back for a few moments, then pulled the small chair that was stationed at the right side of Hunter's bed so that Crosshair could sit next to his older brother. Wrecker's voice became a distant echo as Crosshair shifted his left hand to rest carefully on Hunter's shoulder. He watched every twitch of his brother's face, until Wrecker and the nurse departed from Hunter's room. The sniper watched Wrecker's back warily, then Crosshair turned to Hunter and buried his face against Hunter's gown.
The rise and fall of Hunter's chest, a steady rhythm that Crosshair rested into, eased at the worry that was always consuming Crosshair. Hunter was alive, for he was radiating his usual warmth, breathing unaided and he was there. His sergeant and older brother was safely within Crosshair's grasp, safely within his field of view, and Crosshair would never let Hunter go. Not again.
He stayed with Hunter all day, even when Wrecker returned with food for Crosshair and himself. Wrecker forced Crosshair to eat, pulled him to his feet, then shoved him down the bright hallways to a room that was darkly lit. Crosshair stiffened as he stepped into the dark room, his eyes adjusting within seconds to scan each shadow for threats until Wrecker turned on the light, then gestured to a bacta tank nestled in the corner of the room.
Tech hovered eerily in the middle of the bacta tank, unclothed but for his standard issue underwear, with a breathing apparatus attached to his nose and mouth that buried any of the usual softness of his best friend's expression. Crosshair approached the bacta tank with a critical eye, his gaze shifting to Tech's right shoulder, his left arm and then to Tech's right leg. There was no outwardly visible sign of the closed fracture Crosshair's scan had picked up from Tech's right femur, but Crosshair knew that his brother was in for a long recovery process.
Again, Crosshair thought as he leafed through the patient chart attached to Tech's bacta tank, Tech was hospitalized due to his proclivity towards injuries. Only four months before, Tech had been forced to endure a long surgery that sewed up his stomach and torso where he had been shot during their mission on Naalol, and the technician had been stuck in the medical frigate for weeks. Tech hadn't been pleased by his inactivity but, of all four of the Batch, Tech had always taken surgeries and hospitalizations the best.
Where Hunter would thrash out of sedation unless one of his brothers was directly hovering over him and touching him, Tech always woke drowsily. Where Wrecker would freeze after surgeries or hospitalizations, Tech seemed to accept his fate with quiet sighs and frustrated groans. And Crosshair? Crosshair despised hospitalizations and fought hand and tooth to escape, be damned whatever manner of injury he suffered. Crosshair hated the feeling of being trapped underneath leads and monitored, all while he was vulnerable and without his brothers' closeness to keep his mind where it needed to be.
Tech, on the other hand, accepted whatever came his way without visible complaint or moodiness, though Crosshair knew that came only from his brother's past. Tech had spent months in Kamino's medical wings after decantation due to his body's propensity towards becoming sick, and had spent even more time with broken bones and twisted limbs because of his deceased handler. Crosshair felt a snarl form on his tongue as he finished reading Tech's chart, looked up at his brother's motionless body with a sorrowed yearning within his chest, then released a sigh.
With Wrecker at his side, Crosshair headed back to Hunter's room, his shoulders slumped as the sniper's thoughts raced. He watched himself walk until he slumped down to Hunter's right side once more, his eyes never once leaving Hunter's sleeping form. Wrecker stepped to Hunter's left side, sat down on the second chair, then carefully placed his hand so it rested on Hunter's left shoulder.
"You should sleep, Cross," Wrecker ordered as he slowly rubbed his thumb across Hunter's collarbone, "I will wake you when Hunter stirs."
Crosshair opened his mouth to protest, only for a stiff look from Wrecker to win over Crosshair's usual stubbornness and pride. He was too tired and worn from fighting off his fear and the sucking maw that was the void the war had created within him and, with a pointed roll of his eyes, Crosshair lowered his chin against Hunter's bunk and closed his eyes.
Sleep came to Crosshair with haunting dreams of reaching Tech and Hunter minutes late, with Crosshair's gloved hand leeching away the last bit of warmth from Tech's body as his little brother slumped into Crosshair's touch. Dreams where Hunter and Tech kept falling, and Crosshair and Wrecker stumbled upon their broken, mutilated bodies. His brow knitted as Crosshair growled into Hunter's sheets, his lungs heaving painfully-
"Easy, Hunter, easy."
Crosshair startled awake at Wrecker's soothing rumble, his eyes immediately snapping to where Hunter was holding his hands over his ears with a pinched expression. Hunter was awake, Crosshair realized sluggishly as Wrecker shifted his left hand from Hunter's collarbone to his chest, his voice a quiet rumble as he whispered reassurances to Hunter.
A jolt of relief shot through Crosshair as he slowly gathered himself to his feet, placed his right hand on Hunter's right bicep, then carefully rubbed his brother's arm. He allowed Wrecker to speak for a while as they both worked to soothe Hunter into reality and to his focused senses, though Crosshair could not help the continued worry that plagued him.
Finally, when Wrecker allowed his voice to fade, Crosshair shifted closer to Hunter, then threaded his left hand through Hunter's hair. If he knew anything about Hunter, all Hunter would still be thinking of was Tech - who was floating lifelessly in a bacta tank and-
No.
Focus.
Crosshair shook his head, leaned closer to Hunter, then released his grip on Hunter's bicep to carefully rub his brother's jawline. "Tech's alive, but stuck in a bacta tank for a few more days, Hunter. I read his chart, and he is going to be alright. He's okay, let's focus on you, first, alright?"
With that command, Crosshair whispered quiet reassurances to Hunter as he continued to comb his slender fingers through Hunter's hair, using his brother's sensitivity to touch to pull Hunter into focus. Tech's condition gnawed at Crosshair's heart as he continued to reassure Hunter, both with his words and his touch.
"Tech's alright, and so are you. We are on the medical frigate of the Neimoidia system. We've been here for a day and a half. Tech's safe, Wrecker and I are safe. We're safe, I promise."
--
Hunter
"Easy, Hunter, easy."
Wrecker. Hunter would recognise that soothing rumble anywhere, even with his hands pressed over his ears in an effort to block out the sensations of the medical bay. His big brother rests a gentle hand on Hunter's chest, grazing at where his heart continues to beat underneath his ribcage.
It doesn't give Hunter the answer of where Tech is, and if he is okay, but Wrecker's gentle words and even gentler touches do help Hunter begin to collect his senses - sound, taste, smell, touch, and sight. The order to his disjointed thoughts also helps the back of his mind to provide to him, Wrecker would not be this calm if Tech was not okay.
If Tech was… dead, then the room would be a whirlwind of fury, fear and unabated dread. His brothers would want to know what happened; how they fell through Hynestia's surface, and how Hunter had failed in keeping Tech alive. But, no, Wrecker's presence by Hunter's side is instead calm and soothing. The only sensation different to the relief radiating off Wrecker is a void of… nothing that sits to Hunter's other side. The being has a heartbeat, but is unreadable otherwise. Though, it could be blamed on how Hunter's senses are muted by what feels like sedatives in his system.
The void touches Hunter's arm. And then it's immediately obvious that it is Crosshair at Hunter's other side, the sniper sick with worry. He is trying to keep his heartbeat steady as he soothes Hunter back into awareness, the same as Wrecker is.
Worry streaks through Hunter, despite how lethargic he feels, and how his senses warn him to take it easy. The warning is communicated by a headache that stirs over Hunter's brow - or maybe that's the aftermath of the concussion he remembers suffering. That Hunter remembers that is a good sign, but he can focus on himself in a moment, when he is sure his squad is alright. All members of his squad.
Crosshair's wellbeing has been a topic of Hunter's concern since the war began. The conflict is a leech that has sucked out Crosshair's ability for true calm. Now, his younger brother is paranoid, and his paranoia only worsens as the war continues. No doubt what has transpired on Hynestia has fuelled the dark void that Hunter senses inside of him. His paranoia - the anxious fear of losing a brother - is evident in how he rubs at Hunter's arm now. And how he carefully winds a hand into Hunter's hair; to hold on, like Hunter could slip from between his fingers at any moment.
Wrecker splays his hand across Hunter's chest in a motivator much the same. While his senses aren't as heightened as Hunter's, Wrecker will be able to feel the rise and fall of Hunter's chest with this vantage point, as well as the steady beating of Hunter's heart. Back in the caverns of Hynestia, his older brother had fished Hunter off of the frozen ground and up into his arms, a warmth that stuttered only with brief bubbles of anxiety. Hunter hadn't realised at the time - he was far too cold and delirious - but it was obvious now, that Wrecker pushed all of that anxiety down to care for his brothers.
And Tech. Tech almost died. Hunter watched him suffer through unimaginable pain during their bid for survival on Hynestia. His little brother was bogged down by injury and a fierce cold that almost took his life. Hunter watched him lose his battle with consciousness, and words echo in the back of his mind, You kept him warm and protected him, Hunter. You did good.
A sentiment Crosshair's words echo now, as if reading Hunter's mind, "Tech's alive, but stuck in a bacta tank for a few more days, Hunter. I read his chart, and he is going to be alright."
Oh.
Oh, thank the Force.
The associated relief tastes warm, a feeling that spreads from Wrecker's hand over Hunter's heart, upwards to Hunter's aching head, and downwards to the tips of his toes.
Tech is alive. He's going to be alright.
"He's okay," Crosshair continues, and his free hand wanders to Hunter's face, his fingers rubbing the line of his jaw. His other hand continues to comb through Hunter's hair in a soothing motion. "Let's focus on you, first, alright?" the sniper prompts, and with the gentle touches offered by both of Hunter's brothers, it's hard to refuse.
The shock of waking up fades slowly. Hunter lets the grating of his recovering senses fade away, anchoring himself on Wrecker and Crosshair's touch. His headache remains, as does his grogginess.
But none of that matters, because Tech is okay.
True to the words echoing around his head, Hunter did good. Hunter kept him warm, and kept him alive, long enough for Wrecker and Crosshair to find them both. All of the despair in the cavern had not come to fruition. Nor had Hunter's panic about Tech falling into unconsciousness, or Hunter's strange dreams until he stirred awake into a sensory episode, that his brothers knew how to abate.
All Hunter is now is tired.
"Tech's alright, and so are you," Crosshair goes on. His younger brother's voice, coupled with his careful hands in Hunter's hair, and across his face, is nearly enough to drag Hunter back towards sleep. "We are on the medical frigate of the Neimoidia system. We've been here for a day and a half. Tech's safe, Wrecker and I are safe. We're safe, I promise."
It's all that Hunter has to give off a weak hum of acknowledgement. He tries to roll onto his right side, towards the warmth radiating off Wrecker, but the hand his big brother has on his chest stops him. A good choice, apparently, because the movement means Hunter's headache flairs - particularly from the right side.
He remembers hitting his head, and the resulting concussion. There was also something about a head wound - something he begrudgingly let Tech tend to as they took stock of their combined injuries in the darkness of the caverns. He grumbles at the hand stopping him, and again as Wrecker guides him over to his opposite side, and towards Crosshair.
"Come here," he gets out, his voice scratchy from tiredness and disuse. He repeats the request as he finally cracks open his eyes, "Cross… hair. Come here, little brother."
His younger brother looks truly terrified, the same what the rest of Hunter's muted senses told him earlier. He will take the strange, metaphorical wool that's been pulled over his senses than how he felt double-overloaded back in the frigid Hynestia caverns. But, he still yearns that he can't properly read Crosshair, or know how to perfectly soothe the paranoia eating away at Crosshair's heart. His void.
It might be that Hunter isn't able to fully reassure Crosshair, especially not after this traumatic event, but he can still try. And kill two birds with one stone, because Hunter is exhausted, and he can sleep off the residual sedatives in his system. Waking up with Crosshair beside him will chase away any matching residual panic - for both of them - or sensory episode - for Hunter.
--
Crosshair
A weak hum from Hunter breaks through a small portion of everything that controls Crosshair, for he knows Hunter is alright. That Hunter will be alright, even if Hunter needs time, Hunter was awake and responding, not with panic, but understanding towards their little brother's condition.
Even when Hunter attempted to roll onto his right side, where the doctors had only just recently replaced the bandages over the stitched laceration across his right temple, Wrecker's hand stopped their sergeant. Crosshair watched as Wrecker carefully pressed his hand against Hunter, stopping Hunter before he could roll onto his right side, then, slowly, Wrecker rolled Hunter onto his left side.
"Stay there," Wrecker chuffed lightly as he settled his head against Hunter's back, allowed a deep, satisfied rumble to escape from deep within his chest, then quieted. Wrecker would not move from his position against Hunter, no matter if Hunter ordered him to. Only when Hunter was truly relaxed would Wrecker move, and only then. Until that time, Wrecker would remain an obelisk of strength and consistent warmth for Hunter to rely upon. Wrecker would have for any of his brothers, for Crosshair knew full well how everything Wrecker ever did was solely motivated by his desire to protect his family.
Wrecker was their oldest brother, always the most reliable with his emotions and state of mind, but even Crosshair could see the worried set of Wrecker's shoulders. When they were cadets, Crosshair had taken offense to the constant badgering of Wrecker - until he realized that Wrecker's jokes, watchfulness and kindness were all attempts for Wrecker to care for Crosshair. The daggered, bladed young Crosshair who had feared connecting with others because of his past experience of being abandoned and betrayed by those he loved. That Crosshair had feared Wrecker's intentions for months, yet now Crosshair understood Wrecker.
As Crosshair hid his struggles behind harsh glares and a stern scowl, Wrecker hid his own hurt behind the gentle way he tended to his brothers and his jokes. Wrecker was just as worried for Hunter and Tech as Crosshair was, a fact that would never change until Tech was out of the bacta tank and nearly through with his physical therapy. Clone Force 99 was far too useful to Kamino to have Tech decommissioned for a femur fracture, or at least Crosshair hoped that was the truth. If he lost any of his brothers, then Crosshair would lose himself.
He needed his family more than even the sniper could inwardly admit to himself, for his family was his soul. Often, late at night, Crosshair would stumble upon Tech working in the cockpit, his best friend's nose buried in another random project as sleep eluded him. Sleep and Tech were elusive fellows, though Crosshair had found that conversing with Tech often aided in forcing his brother to relent to his body's natural state of exhaustion.
It had been a few short weeks after their mission on Naalol that had led Crosshair into a long debate with Tech over the matter of souls. Tech firmly denied the existence of souls, due in part to the lack of scientific evidence towards their existence, while Crosshair was… complicated. He knew that, should Crosshair have a soul as nat-borns claimed existed, then his soul would have been warped by the war. Twisted, as his mind and heart had been. Those were indefinite variables that Crosshair could claim as scientific fact, but souls?
Crosshair knew that his soul was broken and torn by the war, all while Tech - who doubted the existence of souls - had a soul that was stronger and fiercer than Tech would ever believe capable. He had raised that argument with Tech to see how Tech reacted and was met with stiff resistance and argument from Tech, even as Crosshair described the heart and strength Tech continued to display since they had met him on Kamino. His little brother insisted on refuting Crosshair's points until their argument had turned almost heated, with Tech denying everything Crosshair said - until Crosshair had cornered Tech into admitting where his strength originated from.
Where Crosshair's strength was fueled by spite and fear, Tech's strength came from his kind heart. The very same heart that had protected Tech from his handler, until Hunter had tracked Tech into that derelict hangar and pulled Tech into their lives forever. Tech had denied Crosshair's assumption by coldly stalking off to his bunk, but the conversation had left Crosshair with plenty of questions on his own soul.
The war had changed him for the worse, yet Crosshair still loved his brothers. He still fought for them and did everything for the sake of family. The sniper knew his actions throughout the war had left permanent, unseen scars in places where they could only scab over and never fully heal, but he still had family. That was what his soul was for. To protect his family, and that would never change.
Hunter's voice scratched through Crosshair's musing, drawing him away from the void of paranoia, fear, panic and worry to see Hunter beckoning Crosshair towards him. "Cross… hair. Come here, little brother."
The invitation was plain in all manners, both physical and verbal, and one Crosshair could not resist. With careful movements, Crosshair pulled himself off the chair, kicked off his boots, then shuffled under Hunter's covers until he buried himself against Hunter's chest. Hunter was shorter than Crosshair by a few inches, but height did not matter to Crosshair as he pressed himself against Hunter.
Low, anxious hisses of air escaped from Crosshair's lungs as he buried his face against Hunter's chest, the fingers of his left hand swift in their need to hold Hunter. Crosshair felt his breathing ease as he shuffled his left leg between Hunter's own, looping their bodies together until Crosshair was fully certain Hunter could not move. That Hunter could not leave him. That Hunter would not leave him.
Crosshair said nothing as he continued to hold Hunter, his left hand fixed firmly over the fabric of Hunter's shirt that was directly over Hunter's heart, then sighed. Hunter had invited Crosshair to him. Hunter had sought out Crosshair, even with Wrecker's warmth radiating its furnace like blaze. Hunter wanted Crosshair, even after Crosshair had almost failed his brothers because of his fear and panic.
Hunter, as he always had, and had always shown his family, loved Crosshair. He still loved him, even after Crosshair's many mistakes. Even with the way the war was changing him into a tense, bitter and broken man. Hunter was holding Crosshair, his older brother's warmth and love practically radiating off of Hunter.
Love for Crosshair.
Hunter loved him, and always would. And, just as Crosshair had whispered to Hunter on Hynestia, he felt his heart warm with the love he held guarded to his very core. His family had always been the sniper's weakness, had always been his source of strength and the purpose to his every day - and they loved him.
Wrecker's hand suddenly ran through Crosshair's short, silver hair, the touch followed by a soft rumble that went without words, yet held every ounce of affection Wrecker held for Crosshair. Crosshair pressed into the touch even as Wrecker shifted his hand to the middle of the sniper's back, the weight of Wrecker's hand as grounding as Hunter was himself.
His brothers were there for him, as Crosshair always tried to be there for his family. Hunter was holding him after he had asked Crosshair to join him on his bunk, an invitation Crosshair had not expected. He had expected to stay seated on the chair, ready to assist Wrecker should his oldest brother need to calm Hunter from his heightened senses. Curling up with Hunter, with Crosshair's left leg shuffled between Hunter's own and his left hand planted firmly over Hunter's heart wasn't what he'd expected.
It was unexpected, and sorely needed to heal the fear that had become Crosshair's bedfellow throughout the war. The void in his being relented for the time being, affording Crosshair his emotions and heart and fear in a wave that made tears prick at his eyes. Hunter was alive. Tech was alive. His brothers had survived freezing temperatures and harsh conditions, and Hunter still wanted Crosshair.
With a sigh, Crosshair closed his eyes, felt a faint smile tug at his mouth, then relented to the need to sleep that had followed him throughout the hospital. As Crosshair allowed himself to sleep, he heard himself say, with complete conviction and a snarl that held no chance for argument, "I love you."
Wrecker rumbled the same in turn, but it was Hunter's voice Crosshair needed to hear. To affirm that he was loved. That he was needed, even when Crosshair struggled with his fear and overwhelming panic for his family. That Hunter would love Crosshair, no matter what.
Then, and only then, would Crosshair be able to rest without nightmares plaguing his every step. With Hunter's love, he could fight the war all over again, no matter how much fighting had changed him. Family was all that mattered.
--
Hunter
Crosshair accepts Hunter's invitation, a wave of relief washing through Hunter as his younger brother slides under the scratchy regulation sheets next to him. He is gentle, as he hooks one of his legs between Hunter's legs, and buries his face forward into Hunter's chest that is tingling with renewed warmth. Wrecker's hand is firm on Hunter's back, so with Crosshair against his chest, Hunter is wedged between his two brothers and well and truly safe.
He is relaxed, and okay, until he isn't. With the realisation of how he is finally safe, and that Tech is safe, Hunter suddenly comprehends just how close he came to not being okay. How close he came to losing his life; to losing the war he is fighting against the Separatists and the inevitably of death itself. Hunter has never lost a brother, simply because he did not allow it, because he fought tooth and nail to keep them all alive. He has come far too close before, and each time the reality of death stares him in the face, he feels his resolve crumble like it is currently.
Hunter and Tech both could have died in the caverns of Hynestia. They both survived, this time, but it could have been so much worse. And then what? How would his brothers have survived?
Although he has Wrecker and Crosshair here now, Hunter knows truly that the two of them are barely holding it together. That the terror of nearly losing both Hunter and Tech together was threatening to destroy them both; a fact communicated by how desperately they both hold onto Hunter now.
A noise creeps out from the back of Hunter's throat as Wrecker's hand remains steady on his back, his big brother rubbing between his shoulder blades. He is quiet otherwise, apparently content to sit in the ambience of the medical bay, and watch over his two brothers curled up in bed together. And on the opposite side, Hunter leans most of his body weight into Crosshair, though his younger brother remains a void of messy and dangerous emotion.
Despite the proximity, and disregarding the obvious relief Wrecker and Crosshair are feeling, both men are otherwise unreadable to Hunter. Wrecker is simply… there, and the darkness lingering within Crosshair does not lift. This is with Hunter and Tech being okay, and having survived their ordeal. The question of 'what if we didn't?' takes Hunter by the throat. He feels his breath leave him, and stupidly, the panic from before begins to take hold again. Later, he will blame it on the sedatives still in his system, and his sensitivity to drugs, that usually Tech warns medics about.
But Tech isn't here. Because Tech almost died, and so did Hunter, and their brothers were almost none the wiser.
Stars, Hunter can't lose them. So, why did he almost put Wrecker and Crosshair through that?
The emotion continues to roar in Hunter's ears as it chokes him, quelled only by the comfort afforded to him by his two brothers. Hunter longs for Tech, as well, but he trusts his brothers that his little brother is alright. That he is safe. That Tech is alive.
For a moment, Hunter thinks he has himself under control, as an accomplished sergeant should be. But Crosshair and Wrecker's matching and whispered "I love you" becomes his undoing. Something in his chest uproots at the gentle words, as he feels the declaration from each brother radiate through the air and settle over his recovering senses.
Hunter can't breathe. Until he can, the chokehold around his throat freeing him to give way to tears, a reaction he buries into Crosshair's hair. The movement forward, and the act of crying, hurts his head, but Hunter doesn't care.
Both he and Tech could have died. Hunter would have broken his promise to always come home, to where he knows he belongs, and for that he can never forgive himself.
There are no words to be passed to Wrecker and Crosshair in this moment, other than how deliriously upset Hunter feels, which he hisses out a rough few words for. He isn't sure if his brothers can hear him, over how he curls into Crosshair, but the apology is there all the same.
"... I'm sorry. I'm so- so sorry."
--
Wrecker
Wrecker knew that Crosshair had fallen asleep, his little brother unable to fight the fear and terror that had overtaken Crosshair since they had first realized Tech and Hunter had lost contact with them on Hynestia long enough to allow him to sleep. It wasn't Wrecker who could chase away that fear, not when Crosshair's anxiety was centered solely upon Hunter and Tech. Wrecker could do nothing more than rub at Hunter's back while he rested his right hand on the sniper soothingly.
A low rumble escaped from Crosshair at his touch, a sound that was achingly familiar to Wrecker. Though Wrecker knew his younger brother was waiting for Hunter to repeat their shared refrain of love for Hunter, it was obvious Crosshair was far too tired to wait. The sniper was fighting his body's urge for sleep - his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second before Crosshair would startle himself awake with a low growl -, and losing when Hunter suddenly curled into Crosshair.
"... I'm sorry. I'm so- so sorry," Hunter breathed into Crosshair's mussed, silver hair, the sound of Hunter's broken, tear choked voice forcing Wrecker to retract his right hand from Crosshair's back.
In turn, Crosshair stiffened as Hunter pressed against the sniper's head, the sleepy set of his shoulders dissipating as the sniper whispered soothingly to Hunter. Wrecker allowed Crosshair a few moments with Hunter before he shifted closer to Hunter, his left hand moving from Hunter's back to the thick curls of his hair. After a few moments, Wrecker moved his right hand to gently cup the right side of Hunter's face, then rubbed his thumb across Hunter's cheek. Each press of his thumb was careful, for Wrecker knew how rough his hands were for Hunter normally and hated thinking of how his calloused fingers would irritate Hunter's senses.
"There is nothing to apologize for, Hunter," Wrecker breathed as he continued to rub away Hunter's tears, Crosshair grumbling his own agreement in turn. "Whatever could you be sorry for, little brother? Protecting Tech? Creating the signal so we could find you? You did everything you could to keep yourself and Tech alive, and that is all we could ever ask of you."
Crosshair growled an agreement sleepily as he pushed himself closer to Hunter's chest, absorbing his brother's warmth as the sniper let out a tired sigh. Concern for his brothers knifed through Wrecker before he buried his face into the crook of Hunter's shoulder, then rubbed at his brother's tears once again.
"It's okay to cry, Hunts," Wrecker rumbled, his tone reassuring as he breathed in Hunter's scent and grounded himself to his little brother's warmth. "We're here for you, just as you were for Tech. And he will tell you the same when he's better, I promise."
Tech was as much of a fighter as Hunter was, a fierce, spirited young man who would never allow himself to break while his brothers needed him. Wrecker knew that his little brother would recover thanks to Hunter's strength on Hynestia, even if Tech's recovery period took time. Time the Republic was ill willing to afford, but one Wrecker and his brothers would fight for.
The soft sound of Crosshair's snores filled the quiet tension of the room, easing away the stress that had been gnawing away at Wrecker's heart slowly. With a low, purposefully protective grumble, Wrecker wrapped his arms around both of his brothers, then muttered into Hunter's shoulder words of reassurance and praise, though Wrecker doubted he could ever truly voice everything Hunter had done for their family in a manner that made sense. Yet he tried, all while holding his younger brothers and whispering to Hunter how proud he was to call him his brother.
How the family would not be the same without their fiercely loyal sergeant at their side. That Hunter had saved Tech and himself and, in extension, saved Crosshair as much as he had Wrecker. A whispered confession of love and affection slipped from Wrecker's mouth as he felt his own exhaustion beg to claim him into sleep, though he refused to sleep until Wrecker was certain Hunter was feeling better.
Family came before all for Wrecker, just as he knew family came before all for the rest of his brothers. Hunter, Crosshair and Tech all put their brothers before themselves, even at the risk of their own lives. It was how the Bad Batch worked, after all, as foolhardy as they all could be at times. Wrecker smiled gently as he hummed an old song Tech had once taught him to Hunter, the song one of loyalty and love that his little brother had sung to them in Ryl - as close of a confession as Tech had ever outright come to telling his family he loved them. For that, and that alone, Wrecker continued to hum the song to his two brothers, both as a reminder of his love and Tech's for the three of them.
--
Hunter
Hunter's brothers reassure him. They tell him not to be sorry, but proud for how he kept himself and Tech alive through treacherous conditions and even more treacherous feelings. Confronting the reality that one of them, or both of them, could have died is why Hunter is sorry. Putting his brothers through that is why Hunter is sorry.
But they are not angry, not for Hunter almost losing both his and Tech's lives to the dark, or for scaring them both enough that Crosshair unashamedly pushes closer into Hunter's chest, and that Wrecker is ever-so-careful in how he buries his face into the curve of Hunter's shoulder.
It is definitely the residual effects of the sedatives and pain medication coursing through his system that makes Hunter cry more, but Wrecker is steadfast in wiping away his tears and telling him that everything is alright.
"We're here for you," Wrecker says, his breath tickling down Hunter's neck against where Wrecker has rested his head. Crosshair is pressed forward into Hunter's chest, clinging onto Hunter and being awake both. "Just as you were for Tech."
Tech. Tech.
Tech wouldn't want Hunter to cry, or be upset. Tech would be distraught at the idea of Hunter lamenting as he is now, even under the influence of drugs - which Hunter has never been good at either. Pain medication means he loses the chassis of his control, beaten into him by a hand which always hissed about strength. Hunter is not strong now, or at least, he does not feel strong cradled between Crosshair and Wrecker, while he cries about something that never came to eventuate.
"And he will tell you the same when he's better, I promise," Wrecker breathes, in tandem to Hunter's thoughts.
And so Hunter gives in, again, but not to cry. He lets himself calm down, grounded by Crosshair's weight against his chest, and by the repetitive sensations radiating off Wrecker - the puff of Wrecker's breath against Hunter's neck, the sweeping of his thumb across Hunter's face to collect his tears, and the repetitive notions communicated by the low timbre of his voice.
Wrecker says it's going to be okay, so it is. Hunter's brothers are not angry. They are scared, and want to care for Hunter.
This time, he will let them. Hunter is safe. Tech is safe. They are both alive, and although this got far too close to being untrue, it's okay. Wrecker and Crosshair insist it is, and Wrecker is right that Tech would insist the same.
Hunter swallows thickly, and with a purposeful slow breath, lets some of the anxiety exhale from him in a sigh. Wrecker moves in complement, wrapping his arms around both Hunter and Crosshair. Hunter's big brother keeps up a steady litany of reassurances as he moves, encasing Hunter in a firm hug, and into the assurance that Hunter is strong, worthy, and a treasured member of their family.
It all concludes with a gentle, "I love you," like both Hunter's brothers had murmured out moments earlier. It proved Hunter's undoing then, but now, Hunter is well-and-truly safe, with Wrecker laying against Hunter's back, and Crosshair asleep into Hunter's chest. Tech is safe. They are all safe. Hunter didn't tear apart their family. Hunter's brothers are all still here, and they are okay.
"I love you, too," Hunter whispers in reply, even if the words come out funny from the drugs riddled through his system, and the tears that Wrecker couldn't collect.
The effort of talking, again, means Hunter's eyes flutter closed. He slumps further into Crosshair, letting the temptation of rest tease him. He is exhausted - physically, and emotionally, but he is still okay.
Hunter can rest.
And he does, as the final thread introduces itself, of Wrecker beginning to hum a familiar tune in Ryl. The sensations of his brother's reassurance lull Hunter into sleep; the sound of the gentle song, the vibrations of Wrecker's voice from his chest against Hunter's back, and the realisation that Wrecker is singing to Hunter. All of it accompanies Hunter into his dreams.
These dreams are no longer pierced by dark nightmares, or abstract scenes which Hunter knows didn't happen. Like the flight from Bheriz, after Tech was subject to hours of electrical shock torture at the hands of those pirates, he didn't perish as they got to General Bea's Venator. He was admitted for three days while the medics monitored his heart rhythm, and was released on light duties. His heart didn't fail. Tech didn't die.
Tech can't die.
No, Tech is very much alive, and Hunter gets to see him the following day. He feels better - no longer weighed down by sedatives, strong pain medication and big, heavy feelings - but Wrecker and Crosshair still help him to Tech's room like Hunter could fall over, or apart, again. His headache is still there, and the world feels a little fuzzy, but every member of Hunter's family is okay, so it's okay. Everything is okay.
Tech is floating lifelessly in a bacta tank, but everything is okay. It has to be.
Tech spends another three days encased in bacta stasis, the length summoned by the doctors' concerns with his broken leg. Hunter has to wince at the memory, as the lead medic tells them, because he doesn't think he will ever shake away the guttural scream that ripped through the caverns when Hunter set Tech's leg. The sound plays on a repeat during those three, long days. Hunter begins to feel akin to a caged animal the longer the days drag on, unable to escape the horrible sound that keeps playing on repeat in his head. Or the realisation Tech had slipped unconscious into the cold, and was lifeless against Hunter as he faded into the dark. Or the horrible few moments Hunter thought Tech was dead.
The only times he feels better is when he's with Wrecker and Crosshair, but Hunter knows the two feel as bad as him. Crosshair the most of all, who now that Hunter has brushed the sensory void that is his younger brother, Hunter can't shake that feeling either. Crosshair is hurting.
And in comparison, Wrecker is just… there. He's always there, for all of his brothers, as a pillar of strength and security. Hunter is the leader, an accomplished sergeant, but Hunter is recovering from a head wound and associated concussion - so he can't leave - and Hunter is grappling with the reality that he almost died. Instead, Wrecker is there, ushering Hunter and Crosshair both about, and helping them both get to sleep while they wait for Tech to wake up. He stops Hunter from dwelling too much on the horrible sensations from the cave. He stops Crosshair from pacing in front of Tech's bacta tank.
The waiting is insufferable. Because Hunter can't do anything; he can't help his brothers, not while they're onboard a medical transport, a place which all of them hate. And because Hunter's head still hurts so he can't trust his senses completely, not yet.
But then they take Tech out of the bacta tank, three days after Hunter woke up with Wrecker and Crosshair by his side. They start weaning Tech off the sedatives, and Hunter can sit at his bedside instead. The scent of bacta is overwhelming, but it drowns out the remembered screaming, and Hunter can hold Tech's hand.
The puncture wounds in his arm healed well in the tank. Hunter turns Tech's arm over every few hours to check the holes are nothing more than brief, shiny scar tissue. He traces them with his thumb and wills them to disappear all together. He brushes back the gown to check where the stalagmite impaled Tech's shoulder. He doesn't dwell on the medical-grade splint that remains in possession of Tech's broken leg. He does dwell on how peaceful Tech looks while asleep, and he does squeeze Tech's hand every time his little brother stirs even minutely - only obvious to Hunter's heightened senses.
Hunter himself is half-asleep when he hears Tech's breathing hitch quietly, and all of sudden, his little brother is awake. Tech felt… different, while he was asleep, and under sedation. Far away. Out of Hunter's reach.
Now, he is here, and waking up, so Hunter shakes himself awake much the same. He shifts closer to the bed, and he squeezes Tech's right hand between both of his own. He throws a quick glance at his brothers that says he's waking up, but the rest of Hunter's attention is on his little brother. Who is alive. Who is okay.
"Hey, little brother," Hunter whispers, with the syllables all drawn out, as he watches Tech's face carefully. "It's okay. You're okay. Take it slow, okay?"
--
Tech
"Hunter?"
An endless cloak of ice and fog enveloped everything in Tech's range of sight, leaving a haze that Tech could practically feel. He was freezing cold, his body shuddering with bone rattling shivers as ice and snow crunched underneath his boots as he walked. A strange feeling of worry had settled deep within Tech's stomach as he continued to walk through the cavernous haze, his head on a constant swivel.
Where was Hunter? Hunter had been by his side mere moments before, hadn't he?
His older brother had comforted Tech and held him as Tech slipped into unconsciousness, yet Hunter was gone. Where was he? Had the kovas returned and taken Hunter? That was impossible, correct? Kovas were carnivorous but they would not have…
"Hunter!" Tech cried out as he quickened his pace, going from a slow walk to an anxious jog, the snow and ice beneath his feet drowning his shouts of Hunter's name.
Tech continued to call for Hunter, only for each unanswered call to set Tech's stomach into a knot. Hunter was gone. Hunter was unresponsive and missing. His brother was somewhere in the haze of ice and fog, wasn't he? Hunter wouldn't have left Tech… would he?
No, Tech reprimanded himself, Hunter would never leave me. He would never leave his family when they needed him.
Then where is Hunter, and why was Tech scared?
Was he scared because of the unknown, or scared of Hunter abandoning him? Both were illogical and impractical, absolutely. The unknown was only knowledge yet unlearned, while Tech knew Hunter would never abandon him. Both the unknown and Hunter leaving Tech were illogical fears that Tech's anxiety forced upon him - not his logical side. He needed his logical side, and only logic to find Hunter. Once Tech found Hunter, then he'd know that Hunter had never intended to leave him.
That Hunter never could leave any of his family behind.
"Hunter! Hunter?" Tech called as he continued through the haze, aware of the slow passage of time and how he had walked for kilometers yet he was not exhausted.
Odd.
"Hunter? Brother? Are you alright? Hunter?"
No response.
Tech frowned as he slowed to a stop, his vision strained by the murkiness of the fog he had walked through for hours, his lips twisting as much as his stomach did. He had yet to locate his brother through the snow and ice of Hynestia, all while a penetrating chill had overtaken every part of his body. Not even his armor and its thermoregulation could combat the chill and, as Tech slowly collapsed to the ground, he relented to the cold.
Weak, strained breaths hissed from deep within Tech's lungs as he pressed his back against cold, hard stone, the cold stealing his breath as quickly as it had his hope. He had missed Hunter. Hunter was gone, lost in the time that Tech had wandered the cavern of fog, and he would never be found. Tech would never find Hunter's body, never be able to bury his beloved brother in the plains of grass and near the spray of waterfalls. He had failed Hunter.
But then the haze changed, shifting and muddling into a strange flare of memories and sounds. Tech could hear a strange, hollow beeping, as well as the shuffle of boots and a cold snarl that was achingly familiar, yet unable to be placed by name. The snarl shifted, twisting and contorting into a cold stream that prickled down his entire spine, speared into Tech's heart and stole his breath from him.
Sullo Pria paced around Tech, her fingers tapping against her arm as she peered down at the device he was creating. His handler had afforded him a mere thirty minutes to create a fusion of a flash bomb and electromagnetic pulse generator, to be made of scrappd pieces of metal and with the crudest tools Sullo Pria could find. Fifteen minutes had passed with Tech working diligently under the fierce gaze of his handler, though he had not even begun the small nuclear matrix of the electromagnetic pulse in that time.
His materials were far too crude for Tech to do much more than create a tiny spark for a flash bomb, while the offered scraps would never be able to create what Sullo Pria wanted. She had set him an impossible task, and would punish Tech duly for his failure. Until the timer ticked down to the last second, though, Tech still had time to try.
And so he worked, his razor sharp focus narrowed upon the blueprint his mind had generated as well as the parts and tools in his hands. The closer to success he came, the better off he would be from Sullo Pria's wrath. Finally, the buzzer chimed, signaling the end of Tech's project.
Before Sullo Pria could cuff Tech over the head for working past the timer, Tech dropped his tools, tucked his hands to his chest and waited. Sullo Pria growled above him before she picked up the small device, her gaze critical as she looked over the mesh of parts and wires. Eventually, Sullo Pria lowered the device down to the workbench Tech had been working on, though her expression remained unreadable as always.
"Very good, CT-33-7641," Sullo Pria whispered as she raised her right hand to his shoulder, then gently squeezed, the touch paralyzing Tech as he waited for his handler to snap. Yet no anger came his way, even when Sullo Pria shifted her hand from his shoulder to ruffle through his hair. "Impressive work, little scientist, I am proud."
"T-thank you, sir," Tech squeaked as he remained ramrod still, the lessons Sullo Pria had burned into his mind over the months since he had been assigned to her keeping him still. He could not move until he was ordered, nor was he allowed to speak out of turn unless clearly addressed and with a polite statement in return from his end.
Sullo Pria's hand ruffled through his hair for a few moments longer before she bent down beside Tech, raised her hand to his cheek, then turned his head to face her. Tech swallowed as he forced himself to make eye contact with his handler's cold, dark eyes, though he dared not make his discomfort known. That would lead to a beating and long simulations that would run Tech to the bone, of which he dared not incite.
Then, when he felt Sullo Pria's fingers rub at his cheek gently, Tech flinched, though the movement was so precise and tiny that Sullo Pria did not notice as she cleared her throat. "I love you, little one. Remember that I am the only person who will ever love you, and the only one who can ever protect you. You are safest with me, understood?"
Tech nodded, aware of the knot in his throat that prevented him from speaking, then felt a shudder tear through his entire body as Sullo Pria released him. She dismissed Tech with a small gesture, reminded him of their meeting the next morning, then turned to the large bookshelf in the corner of her office.
Tech did not hesitate to flee as he turned tail and stepped out of his handler's office, a relieved gasp escaping from his small frame as Tech slumped against the door of Sullo Pria's office. He had done well. He had done well.
A smile rested over his features the rest of the day as Tech finished his classwork, though a strange wariness had not left him since he had exited his handler's office. Something felt off about the interaction with Sullo Pria, though why Tech could not reason - and he feared the answer. Some things were best left unknown, after all.
The sensation of fingers threading through Tech's hair was the first sensation that made sense to him, even as the steady beeping from earlier continued to pound over his head. Something itched along his right leg, though what caused that itch faded into the blur of Tech's swimming memories as he heard that cold snarl once again.
A deep rumble followed the snarl, before a sound of boots thudding along the floor followed the removal of the fingers in his hair. Tech tried to reach for the departing figure with his left hand - technically, Tech's dominant hand, even for his ambidexterity -, only for his mind to fall into the haze again.
This time, his sleep was peaceful and without any memories or odd dreams, though Tech's mind wavered between what was real and what was not. At times, Tech registered gentle hands brushing against his skin, a touch that did not make his skin crawl even in his unconscious state. Only one of his brothers could ever safely touch Tech without making his skin burn and itch for distance, which meant one of his family was safe. That one of his family was with him, and they were safe.
It was that same touch along his skin, this time over his right clavicle, that finally pulled Tech from the mire that was his mind. A quiet groan escaped from Tech as he shifted into the touch, his eyes cracking open slowly as he felt warmth completely envelop his right hand.
"Hey, little brother. It's okay. You're okay. Take it slow, okay?"
That was… Hunter.
Hunter was speaking to Tech? Hunter was alright? Hunter was safe!
Tech's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of a… medical ward? He was in a hospital room? He had been hurt on… Hynestia. Yes. Hynestia… Where Tech and Hunter had fallen to the caverns below the planet's surface. Tech had broken his right femur in the fall, as well as he had suffered an impaled right clavicle. Hunter and Tech had been attacked by kovas and…
Suddenly, warmth pressed gently against Tech's left shoulder, the weight of two large hands ever so carefully keeping Tech still. His vision remained blurred as Tech looked up into the features of his oldest brother, Wrecker, though Wrecker was close enough for Tech to see the worried set of Wrecker's jaw. Beside Wrecker, hovering just behind Wrecker's left shoulder, was Crosshair, who was smiling at Tech. Heat scorched Tech's cheeks as he looked away from his older brothers, his gaze shifting to his right where Hunter was seated next to his bed and holding Tech's right hand.
Tech moved his right hand until he felt his fingers knit into Hunter's own, then Tech felt himself relax. Wrecker's hand moved away from his left shoulder as Tech settled down into the bed, though not without a gentle squeeze that flooded warmth throughout Tech's entire body. All three of his brothers were here and well. Even Hunter, who Tech remembered had suffered a concussion and laceration to his head looked to be in fine fettle.
His brothers were safe. Tech was safe, if all three of his brothers were beside him and there to support him. Stars, did Tech love his brothers. He rarely ever said that he loved his family, admittedly, for the concept was practically foreign to him until he'd met his family. From his brothers, Tech had learned of kindness, of affection, of love and of companionship, and he would never be able to pay them back in kind.
Perhaps, though, love was not about a transaction. Tech's brothers continued to support him and watch over him even after Tech had lost himself to a dissociative spell on Naalol, and they were here now. Even when he had endangered Hunter and himself due to his inability to pay attention to the dangers underfoot, all three of his brothers were by his side and they hadn't left.
"Brothers?" Tech finally breathed out, his voice cracking with disuse as he looked between Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair slowly.
Crosshair was the one who Tech had to pause on as his brother's eyes were dark with emotion that Tech knew Crosshair often tried so hard to hide. The sniper was almost fidgeting in place, which Tech tried to ease by reaching for Crosshair's right hand with his free left hand. Crosshair noticed the gesture, then took Tech's hand in his own gently, the touch seeming to soothe Tech as much as it did Crosshair as his best friend closed his eyes and sighed deeply.
Wrecker rubbed Tech's left arm gently as Tech continued to adjust to his surroundings, the touch of his three brothers exactly what Tech needed to finally fully ground himself to his reality. His right leg was still splinted, though his right clavicle and left arm were free of obvious injury aside from the faint scars he could see raised against his flesh. Clearly, judging from the state of his previous injuries and the fact his right leg did not hurt as badly as it had on Hynestia, Tech had been dipped in bacta. Again.
"How long was I in bacta?" Tech asked as he looked towards Crosshair, who straightened immediately before answering with the exact time. Four days. No wonder why his skin felt so… icky. Bacta tanks were not Tech's favorite medical procedure, but they were preferred over natural healing, if he had to choose.
Crosshair let out a low, content grumble that made Tech's chest warm as he looked between his family again. Wrecker had shifted so that his chin was rested against Tech's shoulder, the weight of his oldest brother as soothing as Wrecker always was with his purposeful expressiveness and constant warmth. Tech sighed as he leaned his head against Wrecker's, his left hand threaded into Crosshair's as Tech rubbed his right thumb against Hunter's hands.
This was where Tech belonged, with his three brothers and the obvious love they were showing him. Crosshair's worry was born from his paranoia over losing his family, while Wrecker continually faked being unfazed by anything the war threw at him for his brothers' sakes. And Hunter? Hunter was his older brother, his sergeant and had protected Tech.
He needed to speak to Hunter. Alone.
Tech allowed himself to settle into his brothers' affection for a few more minutes before he turned to Wrecker and Crosshair. Crosshair had shifted away from Tech's left hand to gently brush at Tech's hair with both of the sniper's precise hands, the sensation of Tech's hair being braided nearly making Tech slump back into sleep. Which he could not allow, not until he spoke to Hunter.
"May I have a moment to speak with Hunter alone? Please?" Tech asked as Crosshair's left hand brushed through his hair again, his gaze shifting up to meet the warm golden brown of his best friend's eyes as he spoke.
Crosshair looked down at Tech for a few moments before he nodded, pulled his hands from Tech's hair, then turned to leave. Wrecker, who still had his chin rested solidly against Tech's left shoulder, nodded before he stood up. Tech watched as Wrecker leaned over the bed to press his lips to Tech's forehead, the kiss causing Tech's cheeks to burn with fire as a tiny squeak hissed from his mouth.
Wrecker smiled down at Tech as he turned, walked around the foot of Tech's bed, approached Hunter, then placed his right hand underneath Hunter's chin. Wrecker's thumb rubbed against Hunter's cheek for a few moments before Wrecker pressed a kiss along Hunter's hairline. Crosshair growled Wrecker's name from the door, though the softness of the growl belied the urgency of his words, which made Wrecker hug Hunter gently, then hurry to the door.
As Crosshair and Wrecker paused at the now open door, both turned back to look at Tech. "We're all proud of you, Tech. Hunter told us what you did for both of you, and we could never be more proud," Wrecker said with complete conviction as he looked at Tech, the stern nod that Crosshair gave his agreement.
Tech flushed again as his two brothers left, then he turned to Hunter. Hunter, who had saved him from the kovas and had dived after Tech as the ice shelf collapsed beneath Tech's feet. A smile brushed across Tech's mouth before he reached his left arm across his chest, then placed his hand on top of Hunter's right hand. Tech wanted to touch Hunter's cheek as Wrecker had, but he could not from his current position and so he settled grumpily on holding Hunter's hands in his own.
"Hunter… I-" Tech felt his breath hitch as his eyes suddenly started to burn with tears, the feeling so sudden that Tech could do nothing more than look away from Hunter as he tried to staunch the tears that were slowly slipping down his cheeks.
He had to understand why Hunter had risked his own life for Tech, had to hear Hunter explain, otherwise Tech would know nothing but overthinking. He had to ask, even if the answer was one Tech did not like.
"I must thank you, Hunter, for you clearly saved us both. I cannot understand why you jumped after me and endangered yourself in the process on Hynestia… But I am glad you did. I… I… Why? Did you even hesitate in leaping to save me?"
--
Hunter
Hunter's brothers swoop in quickly after Hunter's reassurances, which all together, do well to ease Tech back into wakefulness. Tech intertwines their fingers as he looks between the three of his brothers. They are all toeing the fine line of not making it into a miraculous event that Tech is awake, and then being utterly relieved that their little brother is alright.
"Brothers?" Tech whispers in turn.
Hunter can only squeeze Tech's hand in answer, a silent promise of: We're here. We've got you. And got him they have, basking in each others' presences for a few long moments which Hunter tucks away safely into his memory. Happy, safe memories are few and far between - and it says a lot about the Bad Batch that this particular moment is still from within the confines of a medical bay. It is not uncommon for the squad to be laid up with an injury. Who it is that is the subject of the current reassurances and affection rotates steadily between the four of them. After all, it was only four days ago that Hunter was privy to exactly this, with drug-induced tears to match. Crosshair and Wrecker worked that day to soothe him, so Hunter could rest, and now all three of them work to relax Tech into his surroundings and the knowledge that he is okay. That all of them are alive, together and okay.
Hunter holds Tech's hand, Crosshair runs his fingers through Tech's hair, and Wrecker leans his head against Tech's cheek. Today, that is their 'okay'.
Tech's voice draws him from his overlook of the scene, "May I have a moment to speak with Hunter alone? Please?"
The attention previously cast to capturing the scene is focused back onto Tech, and Hunter's eyes search his little brother's face. He feels a brief, inquisitive frown touch his face. Tech wants to speak with Hunter? Alone? The three of them are equally worried for their little brother, as while he is okay, he still has a splint hugging his broken leg, and he's still coming out of the sedatives used to keep him in bacta stasis. The void that is Crosshair feels better in Tech's sleepy presence, and Wrecker is smiling again, especially when he adheres to Tech's request with a matching kiss to his forehead. And Hunter is overseeing their okay with the diligence he would ordinarily bring to a dangerous mission.
Such a mission - and the gentleness of worrying over Tech - usually warrants all three of them. Not Hunter, alone, and yet that is Tech's request. Though Hunter has a sneaking suspicion it's because Tech wishes to speak about their ordeal. It might not be the best time, right after Tech has just woken up, but-
Wrecker appears, hooking his fingers underneath Hunter's chin, to draw him out of his train of thought. Of course, disjointed thoughts and confusion were lasting symptoms of a concussion, and Hunter was best focused with touch. Wrecker does just this, and then goes a step further, to press a lingering kiss to Hunter's hairline. Hunter feels his face heat up and he grumbles a thank you, to which Wrecker wraps Hunter into a brief hug.
The message is clear: Take care of both of you.
It is reinforced by Wrecker's words, which he says with complete assurance, that he and Crosshair are proud of Tech. It is words that their little brother needs to hear, and words that Hunter reinforces with a firm squeeze to Tech's hand, as well as an affirming smile. Their two, worried brothers leave, and then Hunter is in the company of his brother and their remembered ordeal. One that very quickly comes to the forefront of both of their minds, as Tech groggily reaches over and rests his hand on top of Hunter's.
He feels the emotion seize Tech, and it takes Hunter similarly by the throat. His mind is cast back to the cold, emotionless cave, and the hungry dark that threatened to take both of them. Tech screaming into the darkness as Hunter sets his leg, and when the kova attacked them. The life fading from his little brother's body as he slowly succumbed to his injuries.
And finally, cold, dark nothing.
It is a warm, bright something that shakes Hunter awake now, staring into the eyes of his little brother. Tech's eyes are pooling with tears as he gets out Hunter's name, but it cuts off into more tears, and Hunter leans forward to shush him.
It's okay. Quiet now, little one, he traces into Tech's captured hand, but it's a message that is superseded by everything Tech is feeling. Likely, by the fact Tech woke up and hadn't expected to, after what transpired in the darkness.
"I must thank you, Hunter," his little brother says, "for you clearly saved us both. I cannot understand why you jumped after me and endangered yourself in the process on Hynestia."
Hunter blinks, staring. He does not release Tech's hand, or lean backwards into his chair. So many responses come to mind: because you're my little brother; because I love you; because you would have died; because I didn't even think anything else to the contrary.
Tech continues, in lieu of Hunter's thoughts, "But I am glad you did. I… I… Why? Did you even hesitate in leaping to save me?"
He shakes his head immediately. "There was no other option but to jump after you," he replies, and that is the truth. He didn't. Instinct begged him to leap forward and catch his brother, so Hunter did. "It's my job to look after you. All of you. As your sergeant, but also as your brother. You would have died if I didn't… I think both of us know that. And that is something that I never want to have to confront. I can't lose you, Tech. I almost did, and… I just can't imagine what would have happened if I didn't jump after you."
Images are conjured up in his mind: Tech's twisted and broken body, lying at the bottom of the cavern, in amongst the ice shelf that collapsed around him. It mingles with Hunter's heart, that would have collapsed the same if Tech died there, and Hunter hadn't done everything he could to save him.
How would he have told his brothers, if that was how it eventuated? If Tech truly did die?
Hunter doesn't want to confront those thoughts. Not now, and not ever. Tech is here now, he is alive, and he is okay. Hunter will have it no different way.
However, Tech is crying, and is distressed at Hunter endangering his life for him. Hunter shuffles closer again in his chair, moving his free hand to cup Tech's cheek. There, he wipes away the brief tears that have fallen, smiling as he captures his brother's gaze.
"I love you, little brother. I just wanted you safe. And you are, so all is well. You are okay." Hunter keeps swiping his thumb across Tech's cheek, and staring, and holding his brother's hand. "We are all okay."
--
Tech
Hunter responded immediately to Tech's question, his words measured and precise as Tech listened to his brother's explanation. He felt a flush color his cheeks as Hunter explained that protecting his family was his older brother's job - both as the sergeant of Clone Force 99 and as an older brother -, the flush deepening as Hunter grew pensive in his response."I can't lose you, Tech. I almost did, and… I just can't imagine what would have happened if I didn't jump after you." Hunter did not speak as a war danced in his brother's eyes, the unfocused gaze of his brother making it clear to Tech that Hunter was stuck somewhere in his head.
Worry coursed through Tech as strongly as the tears that spilled down his cheeks, though now he was not just crying for himself but for Hunter as well. Hunter had chosen to save Tech without a second of hesitation. Hunter had leapt after Tech because he was afraid of losing Tech, just as Tech had feared Hunter's death after he had woken on the floor of the cavern. Where Tech had believed his older brother had foolishly thrown away his life in protecting Tech, Hunter feared losing Tech.
Though Hunter had acted out of responsibility as a sergeant and older brother, Hunter's love for Tech had been the first motivator. Hunter hadn't even hesitated to try and save Tech as the ice shelf collapsed underneath Tech's weight. His older brother loved Tech enough to risk his own life… but why? Tech was a troublesome bother much more than he was a brother worthy of sacrifice, or so he had believed.
His brothers had to adapt to Tech more than he had to adapt to his brothers, for Tech was demanding with his need of accommodations for his anxiety and neurological disorder, and his brothers had given up far more of themselves for Tech over the years. He loved his family for everything they had given him, yet he did not yet deserve their love - not when Tech had not fully transacted the same devotion or care to his brothers as they had he. Tech needed to work to match the same effort as his brothers… or did he?
Hunter had chosen to try and save Tech because he loved Tech. Stars, Hunter still looked conflicted and hurt as Tech watched his brother's eyes rove over Tech searchingly. His brother loved Tech enough to risk his own life without hesitation, just as Tech loved his brothers enough to risk his life. Hunter needed Tech as Tech needed him, as Crosshair and Wrecker needed Tech and that would not change. Would it?
A moment of hesitation overcame Tech as he continued to watch Hunter through his blurred vision, then Tech shifted to move his right hand towards Hunter's cheek to soothe his brother. As Tech moved his right hand from where it lay against Hunter's hand, Hunter suddenly pulled his chair closer to Tech, then cupped Tech's cheek with his free hand. The touch sent warmth shooting through Tech as he leaned into Hunter's touch with a pleased hum, his gaze meeting Hunter's own briefly as happiness chased away the worry in his chest. Tech could have rested against Hunter's hand the rest of his life for his brother was safe. Hunter was warmth and gentleness in rough, war-worn hands, with a touch Tech could never refuse.
It had been Hunter's hands that had saved them both on Hynestia, after all. Hunter who had applied traction and splinted Tech's right leg, Hunter who had cut the stalagmite free from Tech's clavicle and slung his arm. Hunter who had defended them both from the kova, and Hunter who had rigged the transceiver to summon Crosshair and Wrecker.
"I love you, little brother," Hunter's gentle whisper made Tech smile as he felt Hunter's thumb rub against his cheek, the sensation soothingly needed, "I just wanted you safe. And you are, so all is well. You are okay. We are all okay."
Tech flushed as Hunter brushed away the tears coursing down his cheek, then ducked his head into Hunter's head. Heat blazed in his cheeks as Tech squeezed Hunter's hand with his own, then shifted his right hand to Hunter's left cheek. A smile tugged at Tech's mouth as he rubbed his thumb against Hunter's jawline with the usual precision of the technician's touch; a smile that grew until Tech shifted his hand the the back of Hunter's head, then pulled his brother's forehead to his own.
"I love you too, Hunter," Tech whispered shakily as he breathed in Hunter's scent and his closeness, the press of Hunter's forehead to his own making Tech's fears fade.
He was loved by his entire family. Hunter had risked his own life without thought to protect and defend his brother the entire time Tech and Hunter had been stuck within the icy caverns, a display of loyalty and love even Tech's self-doubt could not deny.
"I love you," Tech repeated firmly as he shifted the fingers of his right hand through the hair at the nape of Hunter's neck, using the coarse texture of Hunter's curls to focus himself fully. He loved his brothers. His brothers loved him. They loved Tech.
Tech opened his eyes to meet the gentle, warm brown eyes of Hunter, then studied his brother. Hunter's expression held no lies or dishonesty, as even his eyes were warm with the same love Tech had seen in Hynestia's caverns. Hunter loved Tech… he always had. He loved Tech for Tech - for his eccentricity and passion for knowledge. Hunter had even loved Tech during the first year of the war, when every new planet distracted Tech from the objective of their mission, even at the cost of one of his brothers getting hurt or having to snap Tech out of his head.
They had loved him even after Tech had been made to spy on his family by his former handler, and loved him after he had endangered Hunter's life on Hynestia. His family had loved him since they had met him, enough that they constantly risked their lives for Tech's safety and well being. Hunter had demonstrated that fully on Hynestia, which made Tech smile softly before he pressed his forehead closer to Hunter's and sighed deeply.
"I understand now, Hunter. I love you, as you and the others have always loved me. Even when I make mistakes. Even when I am not perfect, you continue to love me… just as I have always loved you."
Tech threaded his fingers through Hunter's hair, closed his eyes, then settled into the sensation of Hunter's forehead against his own. This was where he belonged. With his family, with his brothers, and with the acceptance that his brothers loved him. Hunter had proven that on Hynestia - Tech just had to accept he was capable of being loved without giving his brothers everything in turn. His brothers had never demanded anything but Tech to love Tech, and it had taken falling to the underground caverns of Hynestia for him to realize the truth.
His brothers would always be by his side, because they loved Tech. In turn, Tech would always be by his brothers' sides, for he loved them beyond even his own understanding. A smile flitted across Tech's mouth as he settled into a strange sense of acceptance and happiness centered around his place with his family - about his place with his family, and the permanence of his purpose and love for his family. Of how his brothers loved him through everything they had endured, always.
--
Hunter
"I love you too, Hunter," Tech replies with conviction. Hunter's smile endures, as does Tech's strength - drawn from his brothers as much as himself - where he pulls Hunter closer, to rest their foreheads together into a hongi kiss. "I love you," Hunter's little brother reaffirms. His fingers twist into Hunter's hair and he holds on.
Hunter holds on, too. It's how he held onto Tech as they dangled above Hynestia's deep caverns together, Hunter's grip unwavering. It's how he hefted his brother to his feet, to point them towards the hot springs that would save their lives.
He holds onto Tech now, onto his hand and with his face cupped in Hunter's hand, and he won't let go. He won't let any of them go.
The Bad Batch never leaves someone behind.
At this culminating thought, Tech meets Hunter's eyes. Without the lens of his usual corrective goggles, Hunter can see the happiness shining clearly behind Tech's brown irises. He can read Tech's eyes well, with or without his goggles, but there is no barrier here to stop Tech from feeling, nor Hunter from encouraging him. He holds Tech's gaze, squeezes his hand, and keeps rubbing his thumb along his brother's cheek.
"I understand now, Hunter," Tech says. Hunter nods slightly, which brushes their noses together. "I love you, as you and the others have always loved me. Even when I make mistakes. Even when I am not perfect, you continue to love me… just as I have always loved you."
Something uproots in Hunter's chest. A dam that has been lifted begins to spill over, what with relief that Tech does understand. Hunter knows of his brother's troubling past, and his complicated relationship with emotions. But, right now, Hunter can see Tech's feelings in the brown of his eyes, and feel them where they sit together in close proximity. It's not just Tech's pain, or anxiety, or trauma - although they are all part of him - but Tech now understands his love is equally a part of him as well.
Tech accepts this, and closes his eyes. He is content. Warm. Okay. Hunter keeps holding on.
"And none of us will ever stop," Hunter breathes. "We trust you with our lives, but we trust you with our feelings as well. We always have." His own eyes slide closed, Hunter pressing forward into Tech's embrace. "We always will."
It's a promise Hunter will continue to uphold, no matter the twists and turns of the war, and no matter what happens. He won't lose any of them, no matter what it is that befalls them, and if the feelings are big or small. It is his job to keep them all safe, and not to lead them astray.
And keep them safe he does, on the battlefield as he leads their elite unit into places not even the Jedi would dare venture. However, keeping them safe in the theatre of war means nothing if he doesn't keep them safe in the moments where they are supposed to be safe as well. Hunter thinks of moments like this, where he and Tech sit, with nothing but love and care between them. Here, Tech is safe, and loved, and okay.
Hunter is okay, too. Wrecker and Crosshair are both okay. As much as can be. They are all together, and there, Hunter can keep them all safe.
How else would he call himself their brother?