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“You said you’d never leave.”
“Crosshair, I’m sorry.”
“You lied.”
“Crosshair-”
“You left me.”
“I know, Crosshair, but-”
Crosshair turned on his heel, disappearing into the hold, the door whooshing shut behind him as the rest of the Bad Batch stood, watching in shock. Omega seemed the most shocked, being the least used to Crosshair’s moods.
“At least he’s not with the Empire anymore.” Wrecker said sadly, looking away first at Tech. Echo nodded, ignoring his way his heart had sunk at Crosshair’s words.
“Yes, that’s the important thing. We did leave him, after all.” Echo turned away to stare out at hyperspace, feeling the bitterness of that statement. They had left him, with the chip, and never returned to help him even though he was chipped and they knew it. He dropped into the co-pilot chair, putting his head in his hands.
One of the greatest Bad Batch rules was never leave a man behind, and they’d broken it. Echo didn’t blame Crosshair for being mad. Hunter rubbed his forehead, looking like he’d aged years by the broken expression on his face. Tech turned away, eyes cold, and Omega looked back and forth between them, worried.
“What are we going to do, Hunter?” Wrecker asked, looking younger than he had in years as he stared at Hunter like he held all the answers, and Hunter stared at the ground.
“It’s up to Crosshair.” He said slowly, turning his head to watch Tech as he sat down silently in the pilot seat. “I don’t know what he will chose to do. I don’t know what I would do.” He said softly, then speaking louder, more like the leader he was. “Stay in here for now. I want to give him space to decide. If he wants to leave, we can drop him off.” He ignored the way saying that made tears spring into his eyes. Wrecker looked over at him, his eyes wet, and in two strides, he was crushing Hunter into a hug, and Hunter didn’t protest. After a second, Wrecker felt two smaller arms around his waist as Omega hugged him, sniffling.
Crosshair stepped away from the door, his heart cold and unyielding, still fueled by his anger as he slipped his emotionless, unmarked black helmet back on.
---
They had decided to sleep in the cockpit. They hadn’t heard anything from Crosshair all evening, though Hunter said he was in the brig, they didn’t know what he was doing. His rifle and datapad were in the cockpit, and he hadn’t asked for them, so they didn’t know what he was doing. Tech had refused to show them the cameras when Wrecker asked as he was worrying about his brother, instead occupying himself on his datapad, ignoring Hunter’s entreaties for him to eat, and then when Hunter gave up on that, urging him to sleep.
Tech had ignored that completely, his datapad the only remaining light in the cockpit. Echo had taken the co-pilot chair, Wrecker the third chair and Hunter and Omega were sharing the crash seats, after Echo had made them fit together to resemble a bed. Hunter was asleep, lying on his back with his bandana still on, pressed against the wall, with Omega curled up against his side, breathing evenly. Hunter’s arm curved around Omega protectively in a way that made Echo’s heart hurt. Wrecker clutched Lula tightly in his sleep, snoring quietly, knees drawn up protectively. Tech’s position mirrored Wrecker, but he was curled around his datapad, staring intently at the screen behind his green-tinted goggles.
“Tech?” Echo whispered, unfolding himself from his chair and walking softly over to his younger brother, having given up on sleep. None of them wore armor, just their blacks, except Tech who had barely moved since that afternoon’s conversation. “You should sleep.”
“I have no need for sleep.” Tech said mechanically, also having the sense to speak quietly. “I can function-”
“Yes, I know.” Echo sighed audibly, having given up. “Just, sleep, Tech. I don’t care if you don’t need it, it’s good for you and you will feel better.” Tech’s fingers froze from where they had been moving quickly over the datapad, and Echo took the opportunity to remove the datapad from Tech’s hands, which didn’t resist. Tech blinked at Echo, finally looking at him. “Sleep, vod’ika.” Tech couldn’t stop himself from yawning, eyes crinkling tiredly as he removed his goggles.
“Night, Echo.” He whispered, his eyes fluttering shut. Echo paused, staring at Tech, who somehow already was breathing steadily, asleep. He must have been very tired to fall asleep that quickly, Echo realized with a sigh, returning to the chair. He knew he couldn’t sleep, he’d been trying for hours, and nothing had happened. Crosshair, his estranged brother, wasn’t with the Empire, he was just in the next room, but they were forbidden from talking to him.
Echo sighed, glancing around again. Tech had his hands curled around his goggles tightly, he hated losing them, and since he rarely moved, Hunter had allowed him to keep his goggles when he slept. Seeing all of them there, asleep, he felt a horrible emptiness he hated feeling.
They’d had to camp in the cockpit once before, when the Marauder was having heating issues during the war, and it’d looked very similar, except that time, Echo and Crosshair had shared the chairs, and Hunter had the co-pilot seat. That night had been very interesting, and very cold, and Echo had been very glad he was next to Crosshair instead of freezing on his own.
Now, they were all in here in the warmth of the cockpit and of each other, while Crosshair was out there in the brig alone. It felt wrong. Echo glanced around with a sigh. He couldn’t do anything about it, not under Hunter’s orders. But he was part of the Bad Batch, and he thought bitterly, when have we ever followed orders.
It was that thought that made him stand up, walking softly across the room, and pressing the button to open the door as quietly as possible, closing the dark cockpit after him as he stood in the cold brig. It took him a few seconds to see Crosshair’s silhouette against the ramp lights, and he paused, staring at his brother.
“What do you want, reg.” His voice had the same bitter coldness it’d had when Echo first joined, a coldness he’d thought long since dissipated. Echo shivered.
“They’re asleep.” Echo jerked his head towards the cockpit. “I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, taking a step closer. “Are you okay?” He asked softly.
“None of your karking business.” Crosshair answered sharply.
Echo shrugged. “You just got out of the Empire, and I was thinking-”
“Well, don’t.” Was the harsh response, and Echo looked away.
“I’m sorry.” Echo sighed, moving to sit on a crate a sensible distance from Crosshair. Crosshair didn’t answer. There was silence as they sat there, Crosshair’s head was pointed towards the floor as Echo watched him. “You aren’t going to stay, are you.” He said softly, knowing the answer.
Crosshair didn’t answer, and that was answer enough. Echo looked away. “Well, if you’re leaving, would -” he suddenly found his mouth was going dry in apprehension, and cleared his throat. “Would you mind if I came with you?”
Crosshair’s gaze snapped up from the floor, and Echo hurried on. “I don’t - I don’t feel like there is much of a place for me. Omega is around, they focus on her, I – I don’t feel wanted.” He looked back at Crosshair, his eyes glinting wet. “I want to go with you. Please.”
Crosshair made a small motion like a shrug. “I don’t know where I’m going.” He admitted softly, and Echo nearly gasped in relief that Crosshair hadn’t refused instantly.
“Rex has a place, where they’re fighting against the Empire. I had planned to go there.” He told Crosshair, who nodded slightly.
“I don’t know yet. That would be a good thing for us to do, maybe not instantly, but sometime.” Crosshair answered, and Echo practically gaped at him.
“You’re letting me come?” He asked, shocked. Crosshair shrugged.
“You’re the one who has to tell Hunter.” Echo’s eyes widened, alarmed, and he froze before he heard Crosshair’s soft chuckle. “If you want to come, I’m not going to stop you.” He told Echo.
“Thank you!” Echo’s voice went a bit too high-pitched for his liking, and he paused, embarrassed, but Crosshair only sighed, shifting. Echo noticed he was still wearing his armor, and frowned. “Are you going to sleep?” He asked.
“I don’t know where I can sleep.” Crosshair told him.
“Your bunk is empty, just sleep there.” Echo told him, and with a sigh, Crosshair stood, walking away to the bunk room, leaving Echo staring at the lights.
Crosshair had agreed. Echo was leaving with Crosshair, leaving, hopefully eventually to join Rex, but he’d be with Crosshair. Crosshair wouldn’t be alone anymore. He blinked back tears which started to appear.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like it here. It was just – he no longer felt as accepted as he had back during the war. He didn’t like it with he constantly felt like an outcast and Omega was treated like she’d always been there. He – he felt lonely, as lonely as you could get on the small ship. They just asked him for advice, expected him to play babysitter, everything was about Omega. Echo loved and respected their little sister greatly, but he wasn’t a babysitter. He was a soldier, and he wanted to fight, fight for what was right with Rex.
With a sigh, he stood, shivering slightly, walking into the bunkroom. Crosshair’s form was visible under the blankets of his bunk, a stack of what had to be his armor nearby. “Crosshair?” He asked hesitantly, and there was a second of pause, before he understood, moving to face the wall. With a smile Echo climbed in, lying with his back to Crosshair’s, protecting his younger brother. Tomorrow, when they landed, he wouldn’t be with the Bad Batch anymore, he’d just be with Crosshair.
And he didn’t regret it at all.