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After all these months, she's here. She's safe. I have her back.
Then why I am so afraid of losing her?
Hunter couldn't shake the fear. It rooted itself deep in his heart, strangled it like one of those vines at that abandoned cloning facility.
Omega was there, sitting in a chair, just feet from him, and yet, she could have been miles away.
I don't recognize her anymore.
That thought was jarring.
It was the toothpick held so lazily between her teeth like an old habit, her arms crossed over her middle, the tilt of her head, the vacant expression at once with nothing to say, and so much.
Just like Crosshair.
There it was. That nagging truth at the back of his head he wanted to swat away like an annoying swamp bug.
Omega had changed in these last few months. Who wouldn't? After suffering like she had.
He could have understood the solemnity, the melancholy, the anxiety.
But that she was shaping it after Crosshair...
Your brother. Who is good now. Not your enemy.
He hadn't realized how much he hated change until now.
With Tech...
... gone...
Echo flying off every now and again with Rex. Rex, who'd nearly brought them to a death trap, unintentionally as it had been. Now he knew that someone was after Omega again. Always being chased. The relentless Empire. He would burn it to the ground, give his life for it, if it meant saving Omega for good.
And you would still lose her to Crosshair.
Hunter ground his teeth.
Crosshair coming back had complicated everything.
It was so difficult to trust after all this time. But he had to.
It was what Tech had wanted.
It was what Tech had died for.
Hunter clenched his fist, sagged heavy in his chair.
He glanced at Crosshair.
Crosshair's eyes were narrowed on him, trying to read him, even while his own expression was a mask.
Hunter met his gaze, held it, giving away nothing. Or so, he hoped that Crosshair's targeting stare couldn't untangle the messy web of conflicted feelings woven so thickly through his mind. The relief, the gratitude, the suspicion, the resentment.
Crosshair chewed thoughtfully on his toothpick, blinked once, then turned away, face never changing.
What Hunter wouldn't give to be inside his head, to know what ideas were rolling around in there, to unspool the threads of his thoughts.
Maybe it was better that he couldn't. He probably wouldn't like what he found there.
But he would give the universe to know what was in Omega's.
She was still staring off into the spiraling rings of hyperspace, somewhere far away.
Between the Empire and Crosshair, he knew which he was most afraid would take her away from him.
Come back to me.
I can't bear to lose you again.
******
Hunter was still watching him.
Fine, let him watch. Let him see how his hands shook violently, how his mind raged behind his eyes.
There was something about that assassin that had come for the kid.
Crosshair wasn't sure he could explain it. That palpable, kinetic energy between them. How the brainwashed clone had fought with such a striking familiarity. How he'd been able to sense the clone's heartbeat like it was his own. Like it belonged to...
It couldn't!
Crosshair sagged deep in the chair, watching the blue light of hyperspace until it danced in his vision like some all-consuming ocean that could drown him in its infinite power.
Wishful thinking. How unlike him. Hadn't he learned to protect his heart from it yet.
He had, before Mayday, and Mount Tantiss, and the kid.
She was sitting just across the way, staring out into the same deep blue, arms crossed, toothpick clenched between teeth.
Hunter must hate it.
Crosshair smirked, scoffed.
Hunter threw him a look.
Tech would have found it amusing.
Crosshair's brow furrowed, amusement drained away as quickly as it had come.
He was still angry with Tech for going and dying before he could know that Crosshair wasn't the enemy, had stopped being a puppet of the Empire.
He doubled over.
Damn this feeling. Damn this ache. Damn Tech.
Hunter's eyes were a sniper's scope on his back.
With a grunt, Crosshair rose from the chair, flicked his toothpick aside and rushed into the back of the ship where he could sulk in private.
He didn't cry in the dark, heave wretched sobs, or wish for a miracle that wouldn't come.
He only stood there, waiting for the nausea and breathlessness to pass as it always did.
******
Omega rose and flicked her toothpick aside, mimicking Crosshair to a tee. She was going to chase him, try to comfort him.
She's still the same in that way, at least.
He could have let her go. She seemed the most in tuned with Crosshair now of them all. Her words always managed to reach him before theirs did. Omega filling in that role of older sister.
Maybe he should have left her in the care of the brother he'd once believed himself to know better than anyone else, who he couldn't quite grasp anymore. But he kept seeing her with that toothpick, that withdrawn expression, and he couldn't risk her falling further into Crosshair's clutches.
Is it really as bad as all that?
Rising before he could settle himself into complacency, Hunter stretched out a hand to stop Omega. "I'll go."
"You?" Omega asked so disbelievingly he expected her to start laughing at his suggestion.
Yes, me.
"It'll be good," he said--lied. He anticipated it to be the opposite of that.
"For who?" Omega crossed her arms, narrowed her eyes at him, far too perceptive for her own--and his--good.
"Both of us," he said, trying on his best convincing grin. "We need to mend bridges."
His reach for the right words seemed to work; Omega's arms fell to her side. "Okay. But if I hear screaming..."
"...You better come running."
She leapt back into her chair, smiling at that.
Why can't you always be like this?
Because she's growing up, and you shouldn't stop it.
Why not?
Don't be an idiot.
That voice pushing back sounded so much like Tech's, Hunter could have punched something.
He held it down, held it in, kept his expression light, his stride airy, as he pursued Crosshair into the dark.
******
"Go away," Crosshair muttered, sensing the presence that crept into his space. It wasn't the kid. He knew her tread, the gentleness of her approach, the care and caution.
This one was loud and obnoxious and obviously Hunter.
"In a minute," Hunter said. "We need to talk."
Crosshair growled in his throat. "I'd rather not."
"It's about Omega."
Crosshair took a deep breath in, released it out like a heavy groan, and forced himself to face Hunter.
His brother stood at attention, all alert and ready to strike.
Like he's facing some beast.
Crosshair scoffed.
"What?" Hunter demanded, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm not going to bite."
Hunter relaxed at that, as if only then becoming aware of the tightness of his stance. He looked... uncomfortable, out of step, out of place.
That makes two of us.
Hunter ran an agitated hand through his hair.
"What about the kid?"
Hunter started at that, fixed Crosshair with suspicious eyes. "Why do you ask?"
Crosshair rolled his eyes. "You said you wanted to talk about Omega. What about?"
"Oh, right," Hunter said, proving not to Crosshair's surprise that he'd come to talk about something else, or something more than just the young girl the Empire was chasing yet again. "I'm worried about her."
"You don't say?"
Hunter almost smirked at that. "Between the Empire and..." he trailed off, sighed, shook his head. He was holding something back. Crosshair hated how curious he was to know what that was.
"I don't know how best to protect her."
I. Me. Myself.
It was what Crosshair had come to realize most since his return, just how strongly Hunter believed he possessed Omega, had some ownership over her that trumped the familial bond they all shared with her, like Omega was his responsibility, no one else's. Like he'd chosen her, when she'd chosen all of them.
Even me.
"I'm sure you'll figure it out."
Hunter scowled at him. In the time it took him to form his next sentence, he must have run through a dozen variations on it. "Any suggestions?"
"Why would you care what I think?"
"Because she seems to."
Oh, so that was it. Hunter couldn't stand that the kid had bonded with him while imprisoned on Mount Tantiss. He was jealous.
He wanted to gloat over Hunter, shove the truth of it in his face, make him see how wrong he was about the universe and his place in it. But when he went to find the words, to shape them, take aim, fire, he faltered. Like his hands of late, his voice failed on the trigger.
That was unfortunate.
"It's an impossible question," he said, at last. "The Empire is too strong. We can't hide her from eyes that see everything. We can't protect her from armies with no end. We can't save her when we can't save ourselves."
Hunter glanced aside, not before Crosshair saw his eyes mist.
They were both thinking of Tech.
He was the first of them to fall; Crosshair was of the mind that he wouldn't be the last.
******
Crosshair was right. What a thought.
It was hopeless. This charade.
There would be no victory for them. No end to the fighting. No peace.
"I've failed," he spoke aloud without meaning to. He hoped Crosshair hadn't heard, didn't want him to know the depths of his defeat.
A soft sigh suggested it hadn't passed unnoticed.
"You've done your best," Crosshair said, each word sounding like a forced cough stolen from a dying man.
Hunter turned to glance at him.
Crosshair shrugged. There was no kindness on his mask of a face, no smile to assuage guilt. But no malice, no gleeful menace, no triumph, either. Just the same frustration Hunter knew intimately.
Omega belongs to him. But he belongs to her, too.
That made Crosshair his ally.
He was being a fool, reaching for this animosity, making rivals out of resentment.
When danger had come for Omega, Crosshair had offered up himself, almost died to protect her, to give them a chance to escape. He couldn't blind himself to that.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For keeping her safe."
Crosshair's mask fell then, just a little. Just enough for Hunter to register surprise. Then, it was back, Crosshair stoic as ever. "She saved me first."
"Yes, she's good at that."
Crosshair did smile then, and Hunter smiled too. The walls were slowly lowering between them. It wasn't quite what it had been before. It was different, changed, as everything seemed to be these days. But what it was, as it was, it was better than nothing.
Then, Crosshair's expression darkened again. "Hunter, I..." he hesitated, breathed a deep sigh that was almost a moan. His eyes shifted away as if searching for something.
Hunter waited for him to find the words, to speak them, but when Crosshair did speak, Hunter couldn't be sure they were the words he'd meant to say at all.
"Hunter, I can't promise that we can keep Omega safe, but I can promise that I will give my life to trying to make it so."
Crosshair stretched out a hand as if to seal this oath of his.
When Hunter accepted it, he did so knowing the offering was of something more, of brotherhood renewed, trust rediscovered.
"We all will," Hunter said, but his assurance was just a mask. Inside, a single question rumbled loud.
What else were you going to say?
******
Crosshair held Hunter's hand, but avoided his gaze so Hunter couldn't see the thought he'd almost allowed himself to speak aloud, the hope he didn't trust himself to voice, the wish he couldn't dare himself to make.
That the assassin was one they might know better than anyone else.
That their conditioning might have taken their memories, their mind for good.
That maybe, just maybe, Tech was alive.