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It was late at Cid’s parlor, with only a few stragglers still left behind. Hunter, Wrecker, Omega, and Echo had already turned in for the night, leaving Tech alone at the bar. Tech wasn’t one for drinking, not because he didn’t like it, but because he never really knew when to stop. The Clones had advanced everything, basically, so it took a lot to get them drunk, but it made it almost impossible to tell which drink would be one too far. Unfortunately for Tech, that one too far had been about five glasses ago.
When Tech drank, he got melancholy. He got emotional in a way that he wasn’t normally. Usually, when he was sad, he kept it inside pretty well. He was quieter, maybe, and his wit a little more acerbic, but he was able to keep himself under control. When he was drunk, he was expressive, he might even cry. He thought too much about things he’d done, people he loved, and places he’d been. He thought too deeply about his own feelings, the messed up, gunky web of emotions that he knew he’d never fully understand.
He stumbled off his stool at the bar, making his weaving way to the door.
“Goggles,” Cid called out. “Where you goin’?”
“Ship,” Tech mumbled.
She said something else, but he was too far gone to hear it. He wobbled on his feet as the street seemed to buck under his feet but he managed to keep himself upright. The trip to the Marauder wasn’t too long and the night was cool and quiet. The chill in the air didn’t do anything to dispel the alcohol in his system, though, but it made him feel lighter, somehow. The emotions inside him felt less pressing, less overwhelming in the night breeze.
The Marauder was where they’d left it, the perfect ship for an imperfect crew. He ran his fingers along the side as he waited for the door to open and thought about when they’d first been given the ship. He had fallen in love with flying it on the first mission they’d had it for. He remembered the way that Wrecker hollered with excitement the first time he’d pulled off the Tech Turn, the way that Echo had reorganised the computer systems when he’d joined their crew. He remembered Hunter’s poorly hidden glee at their first unsupervised mission, when they proved themselves to truly be Clone Force 99.
He remembered the first time Crosshair kissed him inside the ship, in front of their brothers, and the way the others had clapped and cheered, Hunter muttering “About time,” under his breath.
The control panel was still lit, the soft flash of buttons filling the cockpit with a pulsing blue light. Tech slumped into his seat and rested his feet on the console, something he wouldn’t do when sober, and looked up at the stars through the window. His goggles started to mist and he realised that he was crying. Sliding them up his forehead to rest in his hair, Tech rubbed a hand roughly across his eyes.
Crosshair. Fucking Crosshair. Why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be any of them? They knew about the chips, they’d taken them out, and they thought that they’d be able to get him back when they took his out, but… he’d had his removed. Crosshair was with the Empire of his own volition and he hurt Tech far worse than he thought it would. His friend, his brother, his lover had left him behind.
Tech picked up the com on the console, keying in the code for the private channel for just him and Crosshair, one they’d made a while before their first kiss. They hadn’t used it much as they were never usually apart, but just in case, they’d made it. They wanted it to be just for them, so no one else would hear them. He stared at the communicator and hesitated. Would Crosshair even hear it? Would Crosshair listen in to the channel? Maybe it would be better if he didn’t.
-
The light on his com blinked, alerting him to an incoming message. It was a long distance message, it seemed.
Frowning, Crosshair opened the communicator and checked the channel. It was one he hadn’t used in a very long time, one that he connected his com to in a vague hope of something. Tech’s voice, slurred from alcohol and cracked with tears, filled his tiny room.
“It’s very late here,” Tech said. “I’m all alone. I keep thinking about you. Do you ever think about me? I look at the door to the ship, sometimes, hoping that you’ll come in through the door like you used to do. Sweeping in.” He let out a sad little chuckle. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t try to reach you on this channel when you left us. But I can’t stop thinking about you, Crosshair. “
Crosshair scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. Tech…
“I need you, Crosshair.” Tech sniffled. “I’d rather hurt than feel nothing, though. I miss you. So much.”
The channel went silent. Crosshair almost pressed the button that would let him respond, but he couldn’t make himself.
“I miss you.”