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Hunter was used to being on edge. He had been on edge since the day he was decanted, nearly fourteen cycles ago.
Enhanced senses usually ended up being more of a curse than a blessing.
They were useful when on missions, sure, but most of the time they just make him aware of everything around him. Too aware. Hypersensitivity, was what the long-necks had called it.
They didn’t really try to fix it, the hypersensitivity. They just gave him a shabby excuse for noise cancelling headphones and a pill he was sure was a placebo.
For right now, his hypersensitivity had turned from being on edge to every little thing around him, to being in pain from all the lights, the hum of electricity, the footsteps and breathing, the-
“Hunter?” A gentle voice called out, as he felt hand being placed on the back of his copilot’s chair. Normally, he would’ve known who was approaching the cockpit fifteen feet before they arrived, purely by their footsteps alone. But at the moment, all he could focus on was the throbbing pain shooting through his skull that made him want to dig his eyeballs out and eat his own ears.
“Hunter, are you alright?” Voices. Right. The voice wasn’t drawn out or sarcastic enough to be Crosshair. And not deep and loud enough to be Wrecker. That left him with two options, but he couldn’t figure out if it was Echo or Tech. He hummed, belatedly, but he was pretty sure it came out as more of a whimper than a hum.
The chair turned around by itself, and somewhere in his mind Hunter rationalized that whoever was speaking to him had turned it around. “Hunter, why are your eyes closed?” They were closed?
He tried to open them, he really tried, but the second the did and a sliver of extra light hit his corneas they closed once again, against his will. He buried his head into his hands, pressing his palms against his eyes in an attempt to diffuse the pressure behind them.
“Hunter, can you hear me?” He could, and you’re being way too loud, he wanted to scream. Instead, he settled for a shaky nod while drawing his knees up against his chest on the chair. If he wasn’t in such pain, he would’ve scolded himself for behaving like a child in front of his vod’ika.
“Tech, get in here!” Hunter cringed away from the voice. The voice belonging to Echo then, he deduced.
“Yes, Echo?”
“Something’s wrong with Hunter,” Thanks, Echo. Really nice of you. Hunter didn’t want to bother any of his teammates from whatever they’re doing for something as simple as a headache. He’d dealt with them alone before, he’d deal with this one alone now.
This time, aware that Tech was approaching the cockpit, Hunter could hear, could feel Tech’s steps on the deck of the ship. “Yes?” Tech asked, outside the door, and Hunter winced as he heard it hiss open.
“Oh,” Tech said, apparently having caught a look of his sergeant. A button was pressed, and then let out an audible sigh of relief when the lights dimmed significantly behind his eyelids and hands.
“He has a migraine, Echo,” Tech whispered, even though he was aware Hunter could hear him. The sound still sent a stabbing pain through his skull, although it was slightly less severe than when Echo spoke to him at a normal volume earlier.
“Oh,” Echo’s voice had quieted significantly, too.
“Its due to his heightened senses,” Tech said as he approached the curled up, and quite frankly pathetic, form of Hunter.
Tech’s hands gently pried Hunter’s away from his eyes, but they remained squeezed shut.
“Open you’re eyes, the lights are off.” Off? Hunter could only tell that they had been dimmed.
They opened slightly, and Tech flashed him a smile when they remained open. He was squinting, but he could see and keep his eyes opened. “Have you taken your meds?”
Hunter shook his head, mumbling, “They don’t work.”
Tech sighed, “Well, lets try them anyways.” Hunter closed his eyes, waiting for Tech to retreat to find the meds shoved in some corner of the refresher, but was confused when his vod’s hand came to rest on his shoulder.
“Echo’s getting them. If he can’t find them he’ll get Crosshair to.” Tech answered his silent question. Was Hunter that easy to read? He hadn’t thought so. Thankfully, Tech didn’t answer that silent question and left them in blissful silence.
Five minutes or an hour could’ve passed, and Hunter wouldn’t have know the difference. The pounding in his skull hadn’t changed, but he was grateful for his brother’s quietness and for the darkness.
The door hissed open yet again, but Hunter barely had the energy to flinch at the offending noise.
“Hunter?” He cracked an eye open, and saw Crosshair standing over him with a pill on the palm of his outstretched hand. Echo must’ve not been able to find the meds, he presumed.
Apparently Hunter’s headache just about caught the attention of the whole team, it seemed.
Hunter took the pill with a shaky hand, dry swallowing it hastily. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes yet again, prepared to take a nap once the cockpit was alone.
“Can you walk?” Tech, yet again. No cockpit nap, then. Hunter grunted, and the others were unsure if it was a yes or a no. Perhaps it was just an acknowledgment that he had heard them.
Hunter pushed himself up onto wobbling knees, catching himself on the headrest of the chair when his vision tilted. Arms, he faintly realized, were wrapped around his torso. It was probably more than likely that he actually hadn’t caught himself at all, and that his vode had.
Hunter, eyes still closed from the dizziness of standing, yelped when his body was picked up. Bridal style. He would have laughed at the ridiculousness if he knew it wouldn’t hurt.
More than confident it was Wrecker carrying him, Hunter felt himself flood with shame. He was their leader, he should have been more than capable of taking care of something as simple as a headache alone.
“Stop thinking so hard, Sarge.” Wrecker said, quieter than usual. Hunter could feel the vibrations of his voice.
He listened.
He felt himself be carried to the sleeping quarters, and then delicately placed onto a bunk.
“Sleep, Hunter. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Tech’s voice said, as he felt his bandana being slipped off his head. Hunter could hear the footsteps of his team, each beginning to leave him to sleep. Alone.
Before he could think about it too much, he called out, “Stay.” His voice was quieter and more mangled than he would’ve liked, but he also knew they would stay with him.
Nobody spoke, but he felt somebody throw mattresses and pillows and blankets on the floor. Probably Wrecker.
Hunter, half asleep already, was removed from his own bunk and tucked into the pile of softness now lying on the floor. He pulled the blanket draped over his shoulder up to his chin, and peaked an eye open to look at the others.
They were stripping from their armor, he realized. When had his been taken off? It didn’t matter now, though.
Crosshair was in his blacks first, and he settled behind Hunter on the mass of pillows. Soon after, the others were settled around him as well.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Nearly a half rotation later, that’s how Hunter found his aliit. All wrapped around him, snoring peacefully in the low light of the room.
His headache was gone.