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It isn’t fair.
None of this is fair.
Tech is the one who suggested swim lessons in the first place, so, really, he should be the one standing here compromising. That would be fair. That would be reasonable. But instead, somehow, someway, Tech is standing a dozen meters away and half a step behind Wrecker’s bulking, trembling form. At least the cowards have the decency to look sympathetic.
“Are you sure this is safe?” Hunter asks, forcing a gruffness into his voice to hide the way it wants to pitch an octave.
“Yes, Hunter, it’s perfectly harmless,” Echo says. Hunter isn’t looking at the cyborg’s face, but he can practically hear the eye roll.
“It’s true,” Tech calls from his safe distance, “I double checked the data myself.”
Shut up, Tech, Hunter wants to retort, but he bites his tongue. You’re doing this for the kid. If she can handle it…you can handle it.
“And look how cute it is!” Omega croons, holding her cupped hands up for Hunter’s horrified inspection, “It’s fuzzy!” Hunter does not look at it, averting his eyes. Omega pulls her hands back, and gently strokes the demon with her pinky. “Do you think it likes this, Echo? Me petting it?”
“Arachnids do not register affectionate gestures in the same way that traditionally domesticated creatures do,” Tech offers, voice carrying on the gentle breeze that has picked up.
Hunter grits his teeth. “If you know so much about them, why don’t you come over here and do this?” he asks.
“That was not the agreement.”
Omega smiles up at Hunter with the sweetest, most affectionate show of teeth he’s ever seen. “I promise it won’t hurt you,” she says.
Hunter wants to crawl out of his skin. He wants to call this whole thing off. He wants to knock Tech and Wrecker’s heads together for getting him into this mess. Instead, he tries so hard to smile back at his little sister. “Okay,” he says, “if I hold the spider—”
“—for thirty seconds—” Echo puts in quickly.
Hunter shoots him a look but turns his focus back to Omega. “If I hold the spider for thirty seconds,” he emphasizes for Echo’s benefit, “then you’ll let us teach you how to swim, right?”
Omega nods eagerly. “If you face your fear, I’ll face mine!” She bounces on her toes, so excited.
This isn’t fair!
Hunter wrings his hands together nervously. This is one of the worst moments of my life.
“Are you ready?” Omega asks.
No! Hunter holds out his hand. “As I’ll ever be.”
Wrecker and Tech lean in from their safe distance.
Omega drops the spider in Hunter’s hand.
Hunter can’t ever hope to try and deny the pathetic creak of his voice when the eight-legged monster scrambles confusedly across his palm. It finally settles near the base of his fingers, perching with its legs drawn up. He might as well be holding literal flame.
“Awww,” Omega lilts joyfully, “it likes you, Hunter!”
“How much longer?” he asks Echo.
Echo is watching his chrono. “It’s only been five seconds.”
“No it hasn’t!” Hunter protests.
“Now ten.”
Hunter’s muscles feel taut as Omega’s bow string. He might be shaking a little, but he isn’t sure if he actually is, or if it’s just his vision going a little foggy.
“You are doing so good, Hunter!” Omega says encouragingly, touching his arm. “I am so proud of you!”
This is kriffing humiliating. A little kid is telling a full-grown man that she’s proud of him for holding a karking bug!
“Twenty seconds.”
“You’re over halfway there, Hunter! Just a few more seconds.”
“Five, four, three, two, one…Done!”
Omega snatches the spider out of Hunter’s hand before he can hurl it across the meadow (and maybe directly in Tech and Wrecker’s direction). “You did it!”
Hunter has to lock his knees to keep himself upright. He can feel the cool beading of sweat across his brow. He wipes his hand harshly against his pant leg, trying to get the feeling of spider legs off his skin.
Omega trots over to a nearby tree and lets the spider crawl off her hand and onto the bark. She watches it until it climbs out of her reach before she skips back to Hunter. “I’m ready for my swim lesson!”