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Watching in the rearview, Hunter was able to mark the moment Omega’s excitement shifted to barely-concealed nervousness. Looking out of the truck window, she sucked one cheek in and chewed on it, eyes flickering as conifer trees whipped past on the backwoods road.
Before Hunter could come up with a plan of attack and say something, Wrecker, in the passenger seat, spoke up.
“Yer gonna love the lake, kid!” he announced. “We used t’walk all this way ‘cause the bus only goes up to the north side—but that’s where all the waves are, ‘specially in summer…” He chattered on, and Hunter watched Omega slowly relax, basking in Wrecker’s evident glee.
The south banks of Kamino Lake were a common haunting ground of theirs when they were teenagers. Wild and untamed compared to the official beach up north, the close treeline and forest kept the crosswinds relatively low, a placid, clear foothills lake that eventually fed into the river that bordered the back of Ninety-nine’s backyard.
The perfect environment to teach Omega to swim.
When Omega had expressed a desire to learn to swim, the first idea had been to take her to one of the public pools in Ord Mantell, maybe even budget the money together for some official lessons—an expense that Tech was pretty damn well set against, considering how all four of them were ex-Navy SEALs. So many years of training to survive in the water, and not a single one of them could be trusted to teach Omega to hold her breath and float? He didn’t have many opportunities to remind them all of his professional pride, but when he got in the vein there was no persuading him.
Then, of course, was the problem that the pool was, well, public, and Omega’s prickly self-consciousness quickly quashed the idea of getting taught to swim in the shallows while witnesses stood by, some of them possibly in her age group. Never mind that it was totally understandable that she hadn’t learned to swim by her age—they rest of them hadn’t learned until then either—the thought of little kids slipping past her while she struggled, her classmates possibly pointing and laughing, made that option a no-go.
She’d even stuttered out that never mind, she didn’t need to learn—it’s not like they were planning on going on any boating trips soon anyway—but Wrecker had proposed the perfect solution.
So, they’d all made the drive from Ord Mantell to their childhood home on Kamino. Old Ninety-nine, their great-uncle and adoptive father, welcomed them with open arms. He adored Omega, the feeling very mutual, so her mood had been high as a kite their first evening in.
Tech and Crosshair drove along behind the work truck on the backroad. Echo had elected to stay behind with Ninety-nine; he could take his prosthetics off and swim in a pool, but didn’t cherish the idea of doing it in the lake. While he was certainly sad at missing this milestone for Omega, his consolation prize was one-on-one time with his father, a precious commodity that all of them wouldn’t be mad to receive.
And Echo had made Tech and Wrecker promise to take a lot of pictures.
Finally, the turn in the road brought them to a dead-end dirt lot surrounded by dense, tall pine and conifer trees. One trail, per the faded wooden sign, went off towards some old hunting trails that were rarely used, while another headed off towards the distant, faded sound of water soaking into gravel.
Parking the work truck, everyone unloaded, dressed for the water. Hunter had elected to wear a shirt and shorts over his swimming trunks, while Wrecker had a big cut-sleeve tank top and board shorts. It’d been strange—since getting out of the service, none of them had really felt the urge to go swimming, so they’d all had to go shopping for bathing suits. In training, they either wore wetsuits for practice with aquatic assault and diving gear, or their damn fatigues and boots.
While Hunter had expected the biggest hurdle in teaching Omega to swim to be the act of itself, it turned out that one thing the department of human services hadn’t warned him when giving him Omega’s custody was how harrowing taking a nervous twelve year old girl to buy swimwear could be.
The things the bathing suit section of the store was trying to sell to pre-teens . Honestly.
In the end, Omega had selected something called a ‘tankini.’ The existence of such a garment had been news to all of them, but if it made Omega comfortable, they were a very pro-tankini household. Add to that a pair of board shorts for further comfort, and she was ready.
Tech and Crosshair, to contrast, looked like they were reading to go strolling through a mall, jeans and regular shirts. Lace-up shoes. Tech was without comment on the disparity in their dress as he helped unload the cooler and easy-up bag from his trunk.
Crosshair was not so magnanimous. “Have fun with the rocks in those shoes,” he told Hunter, jerking his chin towards his sandals.
“How much money do you think it would take to make Wrecker throw you in the shallows?”
For that, Hunter got a hard elbow to the ribs and a feral I-dare-you grin.
Making their way up the pathway, then picking a path carefully downhill, Hunter conceded that Crosshair was correct, as he had to mind his footing more precisely than him or Tech, who quickly made their way ahead of the pack and shouted back tips and unseen pitfalls.
But then, finally, they reached a break in the trees, the unmistakable wash of water into fine gravel falling over them all.
Kamino Lake was longer than it was wide; here, at the southernmost point, they could watch the water curve away to the left and right, tree line thick, the sides rocky and rough, and the horizon ahead of them was a long line of blue, the lake stretching out past where they could see, mountains full of trees blurry in the distance.
Breaking up the center of the placid, lightly rippling lake was the sunning rock, a spire of warm yellow-grey granite, poking up like a small mountain about fifty yards away from where the ‘beach’ a discard slope of gravel, rushingly welcomed every gentle wave of water with a susurrus murmur.
They had the beach all to themselves.
“Whoa,” Omega breathed, eyes big and bright as she absorbed the scene. “It’s so nice…”
It really was gorgeous. As a kid, Hunter had cared less about how beautiful the lake was, with the trees swaying in the light breeze, the sky blue and clear and endless—he’d been more preoccupied with the peace of mind of getting away from the hustle and bustle of daily life, away from the judgements of others. They never brought friends here—brothers only.
Well. And now, their sister.
He ruffled Omega’s hair, because she was right there. She shot him a little grin, private, like they were sharing some secret, and it was easy for him to return it.
They unpacked in record time, a cooler with their drinks and lunches, some folding chairs, a big blanket, towels, an easy-up for shade. Tech and Crosshair stripped down to their trunks while everyone else dropped shirts and shoes.
“Is that a new tattoo?” Wrecker asked, squinting at Crosshair’s chest.
“Maybe,” he said, evasively. The black ink serpent low on his ribs did look a little fresh, ink clean and clear, and it definitely wasn’t one of Crosshair’s few scattered tattoos that Hunter was familiar with.
Crosshair was saved from questioning by Tech unloading his massive kit of sun protection supplies. He came up with a massive orange tube of sunscreen and turned on them all, eyes glinting with intent.
“Sunscreen,” he ordered.
Omega tried to side-step behind Hunter. “But—”
“No buts.” He squeezed a very generous dollop into her hand. Then he turned towards Wrecker. “You as well.”
“Aw, c’mon…” he tried to slide away, only for Tech to matter-of-factly fill one palm with sunscreen and slap it, wetly, against Wrecker’s chest. “Hey!”
“UV radiation doesn’t care how brown you are,” Tech said grimly. “Rub it in.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Wrecker muttered, doing as he was told.
“And don’t forget your scalp.”
“I know, I know!”
Once everyone was lubed up to Tech’s satisfaction (Crosshair especially balking at the order to dab some on the spot at the back of his head where his hair parted), there was nothing left to do but get in the water. Crosshair and Wrecker plunged in immediately, already having decided to keep from getting in Hunter and Tech’s way as they gave Omega her swimming lessons. They’d learned the hard way that having too many cooks in the kitchen could make difficult things harder for her (and Tech, besides). They raced out to the sunning rock, Omega watching them go with no small degree of awe at the speed and ease with which they cut through the water.
“Am I gonna be able to swim like that? ” she asked.
Tech looked boredly over his shoulder. “Let’s start with doggy paddling,” he said. “Then you can move on to the combat sidestroke.”
“The what? ”
“How Wrecker and Crosshair are swimming,” he elaborated. “It’s a SEAL technique. It leaves less of a visible disturbance in the water than other kinds of propelled swimming. And it leaves one hand free in case you need to carry a weapon.”
Omega’s face grew a touch more serious at that little bit of information. Hunter knew that she was aware of their veteran status, especially with how their birth mother had kept tabs on them even after they’d run away and been moved to Ninety-nine’s care. What she thought of it, he had no real idea.
“Let’s start with floating,” he proposed, stepping in. “First step, and a safety precaution. Whenever you start to feel tired in the water, you float.”
Between Hunter’s gentle reassurances and Tech’s matter-of-fact delivery, they got Omega through floating on her back and blowing bubbles with her face in the water in record time. Tech must have looked something up, Hunter figured, both because that was how Tech worked and because their own introduction to swimming was very different--their middle school gym teacher had shoved them all in a pool and watched them flounder until they managed to cling to the sides of the pool.
When it came time for her to practice kicking, they had her hold on to Hunter’s shoulders, moving into deeper waters. Kamino Lake had a pretty gradual slope, and down in the southern shore, barely any waves, so it was easy going, walking backwards with Omega trailing along—but Omega went stiff and nervous as soon as she was bobbing up too high to touch the floor, the water lapping high on Hunter and Tech's chests.
“Just relax, you’re alright,” Hunter soothed. “C’mere.”
Grateful, Omega crowded in, looping her arms around his neck and holding on, chin hooked over his shoulder. She was too heavy on land for him to really carry around like he used to—he definitely wasn’t going upstairs with her half-asleep anymore—so it was actually kind of nice, near-weightless in the water, Omega’s legs pressed together and bobbing under one of his arms.
“Ahem,” Tech said, as politely as possible.
“Just give her a minute,” Hunter muttered back, though there was no way Omega didn’t hear him.
Tech was unamused, shooting Hunter one hell of a look. Hunter mean-mugged him back.
After a little bit, getting used to the bob of floating without ground to touch, Omega loosened her hold and let Tech direct her to brace her hands on Hunter’s arm and shoulder, kicking her legs out behind her while he corrected her motions.
Yeah, this was definitely a softer and calmer way to teach someone to swim, not shouting Kick! Kick! from the sidelines, echoing on concrete.
When Tech was convinced that Omega’s kick was strong enough, they had her float on her front, Hunter holding up her middle, giving her some support, as she worked on kicking and stroking at the same time.
She balked at putting her face in the water, at first.
“Can’t I just doggy paddle around?” she asked.
“You can,” Tech allowed. “But treading water is just step one.”
Almost on cue, Wrecker hollered “OMEGA!” at the top of his lungs. Over on the sunning rock, he was waving his arms over his head, Crosshair shaking his head next to him. Once he was sure that Omega’s attention was on him, he took two steps back, loading up—and as he sprinted forward, he grabbed Crosshair around the waist in a running tackle.
Crosshair’s shrieked, indignant “Fu—” was cut off as they both hit the water together, a big fume of spray jettisoning up into the air where they’d landed in a mass of wriggling limbs.
Omega giggled.
Tech tutted. “If you want to be able to do that ,” he said, “you’ll have to put your face in the water.”
She decided that it was worth it, and before long she was side-stroking in loopy little laps around them. They took a short break, watching her swim back to shore under her own power.
“Whoa,” she said, staggering out of the water on wavering legs.
“It creeps up on you,” Hunter commented, laughing.
“Doesn’t feel like I’m using that many muscles,” she grumbled, going a little red.
They took a break, making Omega eat some fruit and sip some water, scrunching her face up adorably as Tech rubbed more sunscreen in place. Then it was Hunter’s turn to growl and grumble, slapping Tech’s hands away to do it himself.
“Remember to get the skin under your eyebrows,” Tech chided. “We don’t want a repeat of last time.”
“What happened last time?” Omega asked, eyes glittering.
Hunter could feel his neck heating up, and not just from the sun. “Nothing happened,” he said mulishly.
“That’s not how I remember it,” Tech said, grinning. “I remember it looking like you were wearing red eyeshadow, you got so sunburned.”
“It wasn’t red- red,” Hunter muttered under Omega’s laughter. Tech let him have the win, and once Omega’s humor had run out, they headed back into the water.
It was great to see how quickly Omega picked it up; she cut through the water like a little pro, kicking her way over to the sunning rock with her head held high above the little waves. Halfway there she had to stop and rest, turning over and floating like they’d taught her. She seemed to enjoy it, too, drifting along and looking dreamily up at the sky.
After a few minutes, though, Wrecker’s patience ran out, and he swam up, scooping Omega up in arms as he treaded water. “Gotcha!”
Thus toted, Omega was ferried around the rock, Wrecker telling her about how they used to have diving contests and races—Hunter was just glad that Wrecker left out all the booze they used to sneak out here to drink during summers in high school. Well, booze and worse, but Hunter preferred to forget that part of their high school social lives.
Eventually, Wrecker was persuaded to pass Omega over to Hunter so he could “show her the rest of the lake,” a laden phrase that they all recognized with little anticipatory grins for Omega, who was completely oblivious.
“Hold onto me,” he instructed her, turning his back. “I’ll do all the work. Under my arms, like this…” She quickly got the picture, holding onto his shoulders by hooking her arms under his armpits, like she was trying to get him in a headlock. With her clinging to his back like that (no risk of her cutting off his airways), he slowly paddled out into the deep water, feeling it get chillier on his legs.
They passed the sunning rock, towards the real depth of the lake. A light breeze stirred his hair, and he checked over his shoulder. “How’re you feeling?” he asked.
“This is awesome,” Omega breathed, looking out over the lake, the fine, furry dark line of trees. She crushed a little closer to his back. “Can we come back tomorrow, too?”
That made him chuckle. “Sure,” he promised. Echo and Ninety-nine might even get enticed to come, if only to sit on the beach. They could make a whole day of it. “Here,” he got her attention again, “do you want to dive?”
“Dive?” she echoed, eyes big.
He nodded. “I’ll do all the work,” he said. “You’d just have to hold on and hold your breath.”
She hesitated, just a little bit.
He patted her one hand, spread on his shoulder. “I’ve got you,” he promised her. “I think you’ll like it.”
At that, she nodded, earnest through the nerves. He wouldn’t go too far, he decided. “Okay, like Tech showed you, take some deep breaths, then as we’re going, blow out slowly through your nose. As soon as you’re empty, give me a double tap and I’ll bring us up. Or if you want to stop, double tap. Don’t let go—if you want to stop, I’ll take you up.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding seriously.
Together, they panted for a second, oxygenating.
“One… two… three!” With that, Hunter and Omega sucked in big breaths, and he plunged them both under.
To get himself less buoyant, Hunter blew out his lungs immediately, pulling the muscles taut and flat, exhaling noisily through the water. The fine line of bubbles Omega was exhaling tickled the back of his neck as he slowly but surely pulled them down at an angle, arms cutting through the water, relying mostly on his legs to propel them forward so he wouldn’t jostle Omega’s hold on his shoulders too much.
It got chilly, but that was as fresh as silk after the heat of the sun on the surface; light fell around them in silvery, rippling ribbons. The lake wasn’t that deep, and it was clear —down below them, the fine, rocky floor was dotted with swaying fronds of greenery, a few desiccated, massive grey-white tree trunks strewn about like the scattered bones of some fantastic, long-extinct creature.
Around five feet deep, he evened out his dive, placidly pulling them in no particular direction. He was mindful of the pressure of Omega’s hands against his chest, holding on as her body tried to float up to the surface, pulling at him.
At this slow, easy pace, he could hold his breath for two minutes, the benefit of aquatic assault training—he used the growing heat of his lungs as a stopwatch to keep track of a minute slowly ticking by. Part of him wanted to roll over onto his back so Omega could look up at the glowing sheet the sky became through the surface of the water, but he knew from experience that you had to be careful doing that so you didn’t get a bubble of water up your nose.
When Omega tapped his shoulder, twice, he immediately shifted from idle into action, tilting upwards and kicking hard through the water, pulling with his arms as they shot up towards the light. The sucking pull of the depths made it a bit of a fight, but it was one that Hunter was accustomed to and trained to fight, and within seconds of Omega’s signal they broke the surface of the lake, taking twin gasping, refreshing breaths.
Careful not to bob back in too deeply as he settled in a tread, he was surprised when Omega started pulling at his shoulders with her hands, demanding.
“That was amazing!” she exclaimed, then, breathless, “Can we go again please Hunter, please?”
“Okay, okay,” he said, laughing. “Take a second, catch your breath.”
It took her a while to catch her breath, babbling about the tree trunks and where they came from, how deep the lake was, if there were any fish they could go look at, how long Hunter could hold his breath—
“Do you want me to go deeper?” he asked, trying and failing to hold back a grin.
Her eyes were big, like he’d just asked her if she wanted a pony for Life Day.
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”
Finally, he managed to get her to calm down enough to even out her breathing, they panted for a second. Then he took them under.
This time, he dove down ten feet, ears popping mildly, and directed them towards the sunning rock. It rose out of the gravel floor, a sharp spire, a massive hunk of granite deposited there by the glacier that formed the entire lake, long worn smooth on the sides, dusted with green algae and flowing ferns.
As they approached, first Crosshair dove down, cutting deep in a perfect knife form. He dove lower than them and turned onto his back, backstroking underneath them with a spray of exhaled bubbles that ticked Hunter’s face.
Omega made a noise, exhaling, a laugh perhaps, and he chose to take her up at the same moment she tapped his shoulder.
Then, as they rose, Wrecker crashed down in a big cannonball, buffering them with waves as he sank, holding his legs to his chest, grinning wide and delighted. Another little squeak of noise from Omega and they broke the surface, the waves crashing and waking around the rock, foamy-white where Wrecker had crashed down. Omega giggled, eminently pleased by the show.
Hunter paddled over to the sunning rock, locating handholds for himself. “Careful,” he told Omega as he directed her to clamber over him, using his shoulder as a brace, “it’s slippery—there you go.” Carefully watching her, he waited until she was safe up top before joining her.
The sunning rock wasn’t that wide—maybe ten feet around at most, one side a steep, sharp incline up to the peak, the other craggy and pitted but mostly flat. Hunter was about to warn Omega away from climbing up to that height when she went over to the flat edge and waved.
“How’d I do?!” Wrecker shouted up.
“Ten out of ten!” Omega declared, holding up ten fingers.
The big man clambered up to the top, Crosshair on his heels. “I know you’d be a fast learner,” Wrecker declared, slapping her on the back with a wet smack. “Didn’t I say so, Cross?”
“I don’t remember,” Crosshair said, rolling his eyes. He poked at one ear with his pinky finger, shaking out water.
“D’ya wanna try jumping?” Wrecker asked Omega.
Her face flickered, looking unsure. “All the way down?” she asked. The flat part of the sunning rock was over five feet above the water—no small change for someone new to swimming.
Wrecker’s mouth twisted to one side as he thought. “I have an idea!” he declared, and without elaboration, ran and jumped into the water with another massive crash. Omega rushed over to the edge to look down, and Hunter joined her. By the sound of it, Crosshair got himself up to the peaked side of the rock, watching from even higher up.
Once Wrecker’s shaved head appeared at the surface of the water, he climbed halfway up the rock, finding some easy hand and footholds. “Here,” he said to Omega, holding out one hand. “I’ve gotcha.”
With only a little squeak of surprise as her foot slipped—and an “I’m okay!” for Hunter, halfway into a lunge to try and grab her—Omega wriggled down so she was next to Wrecker, clinging to the stone. With his help and encouragement, before long, her nervousness was entirely forgotten, pushing off and jumping with him into the water, laughing in between cannonball splashes.
After the novelty got a little stale, Omega and Wrecker both climbed all the way up.
“Okay,” she declared, bouncing on the balls of her feet, hair slicked tight to her skull with water. “I’m gonna do it.”
She said that a few times but did not, in fact, do it.
“Get on with it!” Crosshair shouted from the top peak.
“Want me to push him in, Omega?” Hunter asked, growling a little for Crosshair’s benefit.
“No,” Omega snorted, rolling her eyes at Crosshair's theatrics, unaffected. Still, Crosshair slid down the tight slope to join them, probably afraid of having nowhere to dodge if Hunter rushed him.
One eye gleaming, the glass one likewise shining, Wrecker scooped Omega up in arms, bouncing her a little bit.
She shriek-screamed his name, smiling wide and excited as Wrecker wound up to toss her in the water, counting one! as he swung her out over the edge, then back, two! over the edge, then back, and… three!
He made to release her, lobbing, but in a flash Crosshair was there, catching her against him and using the momentum to pull one of Wrecker’s extended arms—the end result being the big man going over with a surprised yell, flailing, and Crosshair holding Omega to his side, grinning sly and triumphant as Wrecker landed with a massive splash.
Omega, laughing, called down to Wrecker as he surfaced: “He got you!”
“Well I’m gonna get him!” Wrecker shouted back, rumbling with laughter. “Just you wait!”
“Oh no,” Crosshair deadpanned, watching Wrecker start to clamber up the wet rocks. “Guess I’ll just have to…”
He backed up two steps.
“Crosshair!” Omega shouted, protesting, cackling as Crosshair ran the two steps, jumping out into the open air while still holding her. They hit the surface in a big splash, and Wrecker turned, launching himself off of the cliff face to join the fray.
Hunter settled down, letting his legs dangle over the ledge. He could join in, but just in case, it might be better to have an elevated view of events. Wrecker and Crosshair both, like him, were very strong swimmers, but you could never be too careful.
Plashing and play-fighting took up their attention, Omega sitting up on Wrecker’s shoulders for a while, unsteady as he treaded water, laughing and bopping up and down to try and dodge Crosshair’s shoves. Hunter’s bathing suit and hair were nearly dry when Omega looked up.
“Hunter, come on!” she ordered. “What’re you doing up there?”
He had to grin at that. Just because Omega was watching, he did a backflip into the water, and her adoration and appreciation kept him floating.
Tech rejoined them, and they raced, swimming around, having Omega test how fast she could propel herself through the waves by bracing against the sunning rock and pushing off, hands ahead of her, cutting through the water.
Eventually, they moved around the rock, back to the shallows near the beach. Crosshair and Wrecker took a break, drinking some water, reapplying sunscreen. When Tech and Hunter started to flag, they swapped, always making sure someone was in the water with Omega, who had to be forcibly picked up by Wrecker and toted to shore for lunch, protesting the entire way that she wasn’t hungry.
Getting more sunscreen on her after lunch was like pulling teeth—Hunter was reminded of a few little tantrums she’d thrown when she first came into their care, but luckily for the day’s mood, once she was declared slathered enough for Tech’s tastes, all of her ire dropped and she fairly sprinted back into the waves.
Hunter remained on shore, picking at his lunch, Crosshair wordlessly getting up to accompany Omega. Wrecker laid down on his back on the blanket and was snoring within minutes. The sun was bright and hot overhead, but in the shadow of the easy-up, the breeze was pleasant, the air clear and clean. Hunter basked, just a little, watching the water.
Crosshair and Omega paddled around in the shallows, talking and playing, splashing each other here and there. At one point she flipped over onto her back, flashing her toes up above the surface, and Hunter recognized the look on Crosshair’s face, sitting up straighter at the precise second Crosshair pounced.
By Tech’s little inhale, he was likewise worried as Crosshair plucked Omega down underwater, surprising her by how her legs flailed—he popped up first, swiping water out of his face.
When Omega surfaced a second later, splashing and coughing a little, Crosshair immediately melted, nudging in close enough for her to wrap her arms around his shoulders, and by how she lifted up in the water, he was carrying her, not just letting her float.
It took her a second to hack and cough and catch her breath. His face was serious, talking to her, and Omega nodded once her breathing was back to normal. Then, she lifted up, put all her weight on his shoulders, and pushed him under, laughing triumphantly as they flailed around, splashing.
Hunter and Tech went in to join them, Wrecker snuffling awake with a confused noise after being left alone on shore. The rest of the afternoon passed in a hazy blur of sunshine and water—Hunter and Crosshair showed off their diving skills, Omega floating on her front, looking down through the water as they kicked down to touch one of the mummified trees on the lakebed before racing to the surface.
Hunter got there half a second before Crosshair, triumphant, and got a retaliatory chop of water to the face as a prize. Omega practiced her own diving, but had trouble not floating; after a few abortive attempts left her frustrated, Hunter dove down with her again, gesturing for Omega to plug her nose before flipping them both over—looking up, over his shoulder, Omega got to see the surface of the water, a rippling sky of silvers and golds, the other side of a mirror, reflective and beautiful.
As the day began to wane down towards evening, the air cooled out, getting chillier and chillier before the sun even touched the treeline, the sky streaking red and orange in a fantastic display. Omega floated on her back in the shallows, gazing up at the sky. Tech, standing watch by her as the rest of them made their way to shore, idly pushed at her foot, spinning her gently around.
“I love swimming,” Omega said, unprompted.
With no small degree of fondness, Hunter watched Tech’s mouth twitch up into an amused little grin. “I am glad to hear you say so,” he said, pushing her into another lazy loop. “You’ve made quite the improvement today.”
“I had a good teacher,” Omega replied, starting a crooked backstroke, taking her back out into deeper water.
Before Hunter could move to do it himself, Tech snagged her ankle and pulled her back in the direction they were trying to herd her.
“Nice try,” he told her.
She picked up her head, flashing a guilty smile.
They finally got her to trudge onshore, and the immediate drop in her energy as fatigue came knocking was almost funny. She could do little but sit there on a log, wrapped in a beach towel, dazedly watching them pack everything up and start prepping to get on the path. The sun finally disappeared behind the tree line, shadows long and deep, reds and pinks bleeding away into deep purple and blue.
“Here, kid,” Wrecker rumbled gently, and scooped her up in the bundle of her towel. She nuzzled into his neck immediately, smiling despite the exhaustion that was clear on her face.
They got on the pathway, Tech and Crosshair again leading the way and calling back where they ought to be careful with their footwork. Omega sighed a little, and Hunter grinned at her.
“Tired?” he asked.
She hummed an affirmative, nodding. “Feels like I’m still floating,” she added in a quiet, reverent voice.
Wrecker chuckled under his breath. “Best feelin’ ever, huh?”
“Mm-hm,” she nodded. “Best ever.”
Once back at the cars, they loaded up and got back on the road, Ninety-nine and Echo waiting back at the house with a late dinner. Looking in the rearview, Hunter watched his little sister doze off, blonde hair drying in little curls, smiling at nothing.
He never would have thought, in a million years, that he’d one day be able to share the things that made him happy as a child with—anyone. He’d had no idea that he even had a little sister until that fateful day, so many lifetimes ago it felt like.
And it wasn’t just a one-time gift, either. Not a single episode in isolation. They’d come back tomorrow, maybe go up to the north shore, where Ninety-nine and Echo could use the poured-cement ramps to get down to the sand—show Omega the burger stand and the rope swing there.
The night got deeper, and darker, and Omega kept sleeping, and the golden headlights of the car cut through it all, chased by moonlight. And Hunter exhaled, and reveled in the feeling of peace that came lapping over him, as sure and steady as lakewater.