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Crosshair trudges across the deep snow of Barton IV as the ice nips at his nose. The cold bites at through his armor, causing him to shiver with each step. It’s even worse now that his helmet’s gone, and he has no protection against the whistling wind. As another chill racks through him, he pulls Mayday closer. The commander hums and leans further into his side.
“Your ears…” Mayday rasps. “You need to cover them or you’ll lose them. Crosshair lets out a humorless laugh.
“I’m more worried about losing something more important,” he responds.
Over the past month on Barton IV, Crosshair has gotten close to the Commander of the Outpost-Mayday. He can admit he admires the man’s ability to demand respect and authority in the face of pig headed bureaucrats like Lieutenant Nolan. The way Mayday would subtly sass Nolan made Crosshair swoon. Crosshair loves how kind Mayday is, how he accepted Crosshair from the moment he met him.
It was too easy to fall in love with him.
Crosshair hadn’t really meant to fall into bed with the commander so soon, but he was lonely. Surrounded by natborns who despised him and his brothers being long gone, Crosshair had no one. Then he had Mayday.
Now he’s close to losing him.
“It’s getting late,” Crosshair yells over the howling torrent. “We should look somewhere to bunker down.” Crosshair huffs as he pulls Mayday forward. “I’ll get you warmer.”
“It’s already too late,” Mayday says, his voice clear despite the wind. Crosshair stops.
“What?” he asks, panic rising in his chest. Mayday turns to face him, but his helmet’s gone. Frostbite has eaten his nose, leaving a gaping, black hole where it used to be. Ice has crystallized over his eyes and there is blood leaking from his mouth. Crosshair suppresses a scream. He lifts a hand to try and help his lover, but Mayday’s next words stop him.
“I’m already dead.”
“Crosshair!”
The yelling of his name finally makes him up. Crosshair fumbles under the covers trying to get himself out. His breathing is erratic and his throat feels raw like he’s been screaming.
“It’s okay,” it’s Hunter. “I’m here.” His hands are positioned like he wants to embrace Crosshair but isn’t sure how. As Crosshair’s panting slows, Hunter touches his shoulders and gives him a reassuring squeeze. Crosshair takes a deep breath.
“Where?” He shudders out.
“You had a nightmare,” Hunter answers. He brings his hand to cup Crosshair’s cheek. “We’re on the Shepherd, Captain Rex’s ship, remember?”
He does, kind of. What memory first comes back to Crosshair is Mayday’s death. His lover lifeless on the platform while Nolan looks down his nose at them. Crosshair buries himself in Hunter’s chest and begins sobbing, hands grasping for Mayday’s necklace that lays on his chest. Hunter climbs into bed and tucks Crosshair into his chest, pressing his lips against his temple, occasionally kissing it. Crosshair can make out his brother’s whispers in between sobs.
“You’re safe,” Hunter assures him. “Everyone’s here. You’ll be okay.”
Crosshair doesn’t remember his rescue from Mount Tantiss as he was unconscious through most of it. Later, once he was more lucid after a good dip in a bacta tank, Tech told him what all happened. His message about Plan 88 had gone through, but it was ignored. After a trip to Eriadu, Crosshair’s squad had managed to find his location. Echo was the one to talk Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech down from storming Mount Tantiss then and there, saying they needed more manpower than four troopers.
Cue Captain Rex and his rebels providing the Shepherd and more manpower. One siege later, Crosshair and hundreds of other clones had been freed. However, Crosshair couldn’t find it in him to be happy about it.
Mayday, the man Crosshair was sure was his soulmate, was dead. His lifeline keeping him sane and happy while enduring Barton’s harsh atmosphere and Nolan’s prejudice was gone. While Crosshair has no memory of this incident, apparently he tried to kill himself after being taken out from the bacta tank.
“It was a scalpel,” Tech had told him later. “You are lucky Hunter caught your wrist before you could do any damage.” Crosshair would snarl at his twin if he could, but he had no energy.
“You should have killed me on Kamino,” he whispered once Tech had turned to fiddle with his IV drip.
That’s how he spent his week in the medbay- on suicide watch. Wrecker would snuggle up to him, Tech would sit next to him and ramble about whatever he pleased, Echo would bring him books and sit in silence, and Hunter would sit on Crosshair’s bed, run a hand through his hair, and sing to him. Crosshair appreciated his vode’s efforts, especially Hunter’s since the sergeant hadn’t sung for him since they were cadets, but Omega was his favorite visitor.
Omega would climb into the bed with him and tell Crosshair about what all she and his brothers had gotten into while he was gone. She often brought Lula and her trooper doll, Trooper, to act out what happened. If no one else was looking, Crosshair would play the part of Lula. She also brought her folder filled with drawings she had done. Crosshair had commented on each one she showed him. After that, she brought him blank pages to use.
“Wrecker said you used to draw all the time,” Omega said, enthusiastic yet shy. “I thought you might like doing it again.”
Crosshair did have some fun drawing again. He drew Omega and Trooper after she pestered him to, Echo sitting next to him, Tech pratting with his mouth open, Wrecker laughing at something he had said, and Hunter slumping over next to him and snoring. However, Crosshair most found inspiration in drawing Mayday.
Despite his sibling’s best efforts, Crosshair was still not happy. He had moments of happiness with his vode, but a gloom still lingered over his heart. Once his vode had their backs turned and he was alone, Crosshair planned to kill himself.
That was until a pregnancy test yielded a positive result.
His brothers had reacted in horror. Hunter had gone quiet and distant, Tech began that fast talking he does when he’s nervous or trying to wrap his mind around something, Wrecker immediately wrapped him in his arms, and Echo had cried, holding onto Crosshair tightly and telling him it wasn’t his fault.
“Crosshair,” Tech had said. “It is still early. You can terminate if you wish-”
“I’m not doing that,” Crosshair had snapped. “I wasn’t raped. It was consensual.”
“Nothing is consensual on Mount Tantiss,” Hunter had growled. His brother angrily huffed. “It’s you choice, but-”
“It wasn’t on Mount Tantiss either,” Crosshair started. “I was sexually active with… another clone before…that.”
“Oh,” Tech had hummed, shoulders dropping in relief. “Would you elaborate for us then?”
Crosshair explained how he met Mayday and fell in love with him. His brothers looked at him with solemn faces, and Tech was the one to break the silence.
“Well, you are still a bit malnourished,” he went furiously typing on his datapad. “At five weeks, you are still at risk to miscarry, so I have taken the liberty to compile a list of foods that will prove beneficial to your- and the fetus’s- health. On the next planet we stop at to refuel, I will procure some prenatals for you as well.”
That was a week ago.
Crosshair stops crying, his tears finally drying up, and sighs. He cranes his head up to look at Hunter who's watching him with such care and concern, yet he feels he doesn't deserve it. It makes him sick.
“Water please,” Crosshair requests, pointing to his bottle on the crate they sat next to his bed. Hunter rises to fetch the bottle. Crosshair brings it to his lips and begins taking greeting gulps.
“Slow down,” Hunter says, biting his lips to avoid laughing. “You’ll make your nausea worse.”
“Doubt that,” Crosshair hisses, but seconds after saying that, he feels his stomach flip. He hurriedly scrambles to get out of bed. Hunter, quick as always, brings the trash can up to Crosshair. He hurls.
“There, there,” Hunter strokes up and down his back. Crosshair can only imagine how tortuous it must be for Hunter's nose to be so close to the rancid bile. He scruffs Crosshair’s hair. “You’re alright.”
After a few minutes of deep, practiced breathing, Crosshair hands the can back over the Hunter. His brother takes it with a disgusted curl of his nose, then slinks back into bed with Crosshair. Hunter reaches back and holds a package of crackers up to Crosshair.
“Want some?” He asks. Crosshair brings a shaky hand up to take one and place it in his mouth. Rather than bite and chew, he lets the cracker become mushy enough that he can swallow. He repeats this process with two more.
“What time is it?” Crosshair asks. Hunter taps his datapad and shows that it’s nearly six. Crosshair sighs. “Sorry to wake you.”
“No,” Hunter answers, kissing Crosshair’s forehead. “I don’t mind, not if it’s you.” Crosshair huffs and curls closer into his brother’s chest. He rubs his cheek against Hunter’s blacks. Hunter takes his datapad and opens up Tech’s document.
“According to Tech’s itinerary,” Hunter begins, but breaks off at Crosshair’s bark of laughter. “I know. According to it, you should be eating more leafy greens, almonds, beans..” He trails off as he reads over Tech’s recommended foods. “They should have orange juice and cereal in the mess hall. You interested?”
“Yeah,” Crosshair shrugs. “I guess.” Hunter pats his back and brings his forehead to his own.
“Good,” he says. “Why don’t you use the fresher first?” Crosshair agrees and shuffles his way to the fresher. He’s thankful this one has a water shower instead of a sonic. Crosshair knows the warm water will be a welcome indulgence.
Crosshair stays under the spray for a while, just letting the water cascade down his skin. He squeezes the shampoo into his palms and lathers it into his scalp. As he’s scrubbing, Crosshair’s mind wanders to when he and Mayday had shared a shower on Barton IV. When Mayday had gently guided his body so his back hit the shower, Crosshair jumped into the commander’s arms and wrapped his legs around his waist. Mayday was a tender lover, his fingers never leaving bruises as he caressed Crosshair’s skin.
Distantly, as his hand roams on its own to touch his belly, Crosshair wonders if that was the round that had conceived his baby. He wonders how Mayday would have reacted. In his mind, Crosshair imagines Mayday being overjoyed, delighted at the notion of becoming a father. Crosshair dreams that he would pick him up and spin him around before bending down to kiss his still flat stomach and coo in Mando’a.
But Crosshair is constantly reminded that that will never happen. Mayday died before even Crosshair knew of the pregnancy.
Crosshair exits the shower and finds himself staring at his reflection. It’s like looking at a ghost. His hair has grown back, the silver growing around the scar, so it looks pretty good in his opinion. It’s not like Wrecker’s which grew back patchy and thin, and for that Crosshair is grateful. Crosshair’s eyes are sunken in, a sign of his malnourishment. His body feels foreign to him after losing his autonomy for so long. He notices his breasts, which were always small enough to go undetected, are a bit bigger now. His hair is overgrown around his vagina; he used to wax and finds himself itching to do something to get rid of all the hair.
When Crosshair had realized he was a man like his vode, he didn’t feel any animosity towards his body. He rather liked how he looked and thought he was quite the catch. Now, Crosshair is relieved that he has the opportunity to keep a piece of Mayday with him.
Crosshair exits the fresher and lays back down on the bed. His nausea is still bothering him and he takes deep breaths to try and alleviate it. Hunter to shower stands then hesitates at the door to the fresher.
“I can wait,” Hunter walks back over and assists getting Crosshair to sit up. “C’mon, I’m getting hungry.”
The mess hall is fairly crowded by the time he and Hunter enter. Crosshair doesn't fight as Hunter leads him towards an empty table with a hand on his lower back. Crosshair sits then lays his head on his forearms.
“You alright?” Hunter whispers, hand stroking across his shoulders. “Nauseous?”
“No,” Crosshair turns his head so Hunter can hear him. “Just really tired.”
“Well, I’ll go get breakfast, then we can go lay back down,” Hunter offers. “Oh, you didn’t hear from me, but Wrecker downloaded a couple of your favorite movies for today.”
“That’s nice,” Crosshair murmurs, peeking his eyes open as Hunter quickly makes his way to the line. His brothers, and by extension Omega who didn’t even know he was pregnant yet, have become even more glued to him. Crosshair is pretty sure they believe they can love the grief, depression, and PTSD out of him. Even if it’s not really working, he likes the effort.
Feeling too fatigued to keep his eyes open, Crosshair closes them again. He’s nearly asleep when someone startles him awake.
“Commander?”
Crosshair jerks up and holds his fists up in a defensive stance, but drops it when he sees who's talking to him. It’s Captain Howzer.
“Hello Captain,” Crosshair greets. He relaxes again. “I’m not a commander any more.”
“Ah,” Howzer hums. “Guess that’s to be expected.” Howzer awkwardly shuffles around before motioning to the seat across from him with his head. “Can I sit there?” Crosshair feels stupid that he didn’t notice his tray.
“Sure,” Crosshair answers. Howzer sits across from him, but hesitates to start eating. His eyebrows are upturned and his mouth seems to be trying to form a smile, but can’t.
“How are you?” Howzer’s tone is one of genuine concern. Crosshair can tell, he’s been around enough people to differentiate between flattery and care. Looking up into Howzer’s eyes, Crosshair can see that the man truthfully wants to hear from him.
It’s odd. Especially considering that the last time they had seen each other was on Ryloth as Howzer fucked Crosshair in an empty locker room. They had an agreement- no strings attached. Crosshair could say he didn’t love Howzer- hell, he didn’t even really like him at the time, but the sex was great and a much needed distraction from how stressed Crosshair felt being under Rampart’s scrutiny.
Still, it’s touching that Howzer cares.
“I…” Crosshair clears his throat. “I have been better.” Howzer’s face, somehow, falls even more.
“I hate to hear that,” Howzer goes to poking at his food. Crosshair, grossed out by the smell of Howzer’s bacon, carefully sips his water. As Howzer prods his food, the silence stretches between them. Crosshair is searching for Hunter when Howzer speaks again. “I often wondered about you. Where you were or how you were doing…I’m glad to see you again.”
“It’s good to see you as well,” Crosshair replies, guilt gnawing at his gut. “Is your squad here with you?”
“No,” Howzer shakes his head. “I’m the only one left.”
“I’m sorry,” Crosshair offers. “I didn’t know you were arrested. If I did, I would have-”
“Don’t bother,” Howzer interrupts, voice firm but not unkind. “I did it for my brothers, and I’d do it again.”
“You’re an honorable man,” Crosshair tells him. “Better than I ever was.”
Howzer opens his mouth to respond, but stops as Hunter arrives to stand behind Crosshair and glares menacingly at the reg.
“Who are you?” Hunter asks, voice full of ice.
“I’m Howzer,” he says. He looks to Crosshair for an explanation or help. Crosshair shrugs, trying to convey he only has so much sway over his brother’s protective nature.
“I invited him to sit with me,” Crosshair turns to take his tray from Hunter’s hands. He inwardly rejoices at the oatmeal and orange juice. “We know each other.” He points to his brother. “Howzer, this is Hunter.”
“Mmph,” Hunter sits next to Crosshair. Hunter stabs his eggs with his fork as he maintains eye contact with Howzer. “So…Howzer, how did you and Crosshair meet?”
“On Ryloth,” Howzer answers, still nervously glancing back to Crosshair. Hunter keeps sneering at the man opposite him. Hunter cuts his eyes to Crosshair.
“You trust him?”
“I trust him enough to let him fuck me,” Crosshair replies, hoping to embaress his nosey brother. “We were fuck buddies,” Crosshair clarifies for Hunter. Howzer drops his fork while Hunter snaps the metal fork in his hand in two. “Don’t get excited.” He pats his brother’s free hand. “It was consensual.”
“It um…” Howzer trails off, avoiding Hunter’s glare. “Is there a reason you would think it wouldn’t be?”
“The inhibitor chips,” Crosshair answers around the oatmeal in his mouth. “Mine was already gone by then.”
“Oh,” Howzer looks back at Hunter, then becomes very interested in his plate. “That’s good.”
The quiet that consumes the table as they eat is uncomfortable, and Crosshair wishes his brother had left well enough alone and minded his damn business for once in his life. Deciding to cut through the tension that has been brewing, Crosshair opens his mouth to attempt to reassure Howzer.
“Don’t mind him,” Crosshair jams his thumb in Hunter’s direction. “He’s just a little-”
“Ah, Crosshair! There you are.”
Tech appears in Crosshair’s eyesight with his own tray of breakfast in his hand. Instead of sitting next to Howzer, Tech shoves Howzer out of his spot across from Crosshair and takes it for himself. Tech ignores Crosshair’s harsh yell and Hunter’s apathetic “hey”.
“I was not expecting you to be in the mess hall so early,” Tech says, disregarding what had just happened. “You should still be resting. However, I will ignore that since you are eating the proper foods to keep yourself healthy.”
“Are you sick?” Howzer asks him. That sickeningly concerned look back on his face.
“I also brought your prenatals,” Tech says, holding them out for Crosshair to take. “I would recommend taking them with water. Since you are entering your sixth week of gestation, drinking more water more frequently will reduce your chances of contracting a UTI.”
“You’re-” Howzer starts. Crosshair would laugh at the reg’s eyes popping out of his head if he wasn’t so caught off guard. “You’re pregnant?”
“Yes,” Crosshair answers. He levels a glare at his twin for exposing his condition without asking him first. Tech does have the decency, or smarts, to look culpable. “How’d you know? Most clones don’t know what a prenatal is.”
“Eleni was pregnant near the beginning of the war,” Howzer explains. “I remember her talking about how important prenatal vitamins were.” Howzer’s mouth contorts left and right. He looks back up and offers Crosshair and Hunter a small smile. “Congratulations you two. If there’s anything I can do-”
“Woah, woah, time out,” Crosshair interrupts. He hears Hunter let out a small gag next to him. “Hunter is not the father; he’s my brother.”
“Oh,” Howzer blushes. His eyes slowly glance over at Tech eating next to him.
“Tech is not the father either,” Crosshair sighs. “He’s my twin.” Upon seeing the look of alarm form on Howzer’s face, Crosshair jumps to explain. “The father is another clone. He’s um,” Crosshair aggressively clears his throat, willing the lump that forms everytime he thinks of Mayday to go away. “He’s no longer with us.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Howzer lifts his hand, like he wants to offer comfort, but lets it drop back down to his lap. He shakes his head slowly. Howzer takes his empty tray and stands. “Well…” He looks from Hunter to Tech, his jaw moving back and forth. He settles his gaze on Crosshair and nods. “It was nice to see you again, Crosshair.”
“It was nice to see you as well,” Crosshair replies. Howzer smiles at him. As Crosshair watches him walk away, he feels a pang of loneliness rattle through his chest. He whirls to face his older brothers. “What the hell is wrong with you two?”
Thankfully, both Hunter and Tech cringe at his tone. Hunter opens his mouth to speak, but Crosshair holds his hand up.
“What possessed the two of you to act like complete jackasses?” Crosshair’s voice rises, but he doesn’t care as the regs around them begin subtly looking their way. “Howzer is…” Well he’s not quite a friend, and he’s definitely not a fuck buddy anymore. “Nice,” Crosshair finishes. “And you both strong-armed him away.”
“Crosshair,” Hunter starts, self-conscious as regs start snickering. “We only thought-”
“No you didn’t!” Crosshair snaps. “You never fucking think.” He turns to address Tech. “If you did, you wouldn’t go around telling people my business.”
“That was a mistake on my part,” Tech admits, blush consuming his cheeks. “I sincerely apologize and hope you can forgive me.”
“Maybe,” Crosshair huffs, shrugging his shoulders. He knows he’ll forgive Tech, he always does; he’s just really pissed off right now. He stands up. “I’m leaving. Don’t come with me, and I don’t want to see either of you for a minute.” He makes his way to the exit before turning around again. “ And I’m telling Echo!”
Crosshair smirks to himself as his brothers both make “oh shit” expressions. Echo will be the one to reprimand the both of them in a way that makes them actually listen. While Wrecker and Echo give Crosshair some space, Hunter and Tech are too worried about Crosshair to act rationally around him or concerning him. They both constantly treat him like he’s a child.
He loves them, but damn is it getting on his nerves.
Leaving the mess hall, Crosshair starts towards the command deck where he knows Echo will be. He’s too busy internally fuming in his mind to notice the body in front of him. He collides with it.
“Oh shit,” Howzer catches Crosshair by the wrist before he can tumble. “You um…” Howzer pauses to pinch his lips together to hide a growing smile. “You good, there?” Howzer’s face falls. “Shit, is your baby okay?” He asks quieter.
“They should be fine,” Crosshair rights himself back up. “I’m not that fragile.”
“No,” Howzer agrees. “You’re made of beskar.” He stares into Crosshair’s eyes until he realizes he’s still holding his wrist he drops it. “Sorry,” he mumbles, suddenly very intrigued in his shoes.
“Actually I’m glad I caught you,” Crosshair says, ignoring the compliment and the flutter in his gut. “I wanted to apologize for how my brothers acted. They’re not usually such dicks…sometimes.”
“It’s okay,” Howzer shrugs. “I can understand why they’re a bit protective. I don't know how I'd act if I was in their position.” Howzer smiles again, big enough this time that his scars stretch. Crosshair remembers calling it cute once. “I still appreciate the apology though.”
“Hunter and Tech will be making amends as well,” Crosshair tells him. “Echo will make sure of it.”
“Ha,” Howzer barks out a laugh and covers his mouth. “The corporal sure knows how to give a dressing down huh?”
“You’re telling me,” Crosshair rolls his eyes. “Should’ve heard him during the Clone Wars. I’ve never seen Hunter turn so red.” Howzer laughs again, and Crosshair smiles at him. They stare at each other for a second before grabs his comm and holds it out in offering. “Here, input your comm code. I know it can get…lonely when your squad’s gone.”
Howzer takes the comm to put in his code, and Crosshair catches a quick flash of contempt on the man’s face. He hands it back.
“Thanks Crosshair,” Howzer says. “I’ve been called to command, so-”
“Actually,” Crosshair breaks him off. “I’m heading there too. To tattle to Echo.” Howzer laughs again.
“Care to walk with me?” Howzer offers, motioning in front of him.
“That would be nice,” Crosshair answers, walking side by side with Howzer. It’s quiet for another minute before Howzer begins an easy conversation about the next planet they're stopping on.
While Crosshair may not be okay, he’s glad he now knows someone else besides his brothers to talk too. As he nods along and makes his own inputs as Howzer talks, he can tell Howzer is as well.