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“Where’s Tech? And Echo?”
“Echo’s been working with Rex.”
“And Tech?”
…
“Hunter, where’s Tech?”
“Cross, I-I’m sorry, but–”
Crosshair bit down on his mouthguard harder as he narrowly dodged a swing from his opponent.
As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t drop the front yet; they were only a few minutes into the first round.
“Ya gotta make it look good,” his manager instructed him. He couldn’t believe he had a “manager”. “Ya can’t jus’ take ‘em down out the gate all the time. Ain’t no money in that.”
So he let his opponents rough him up a little. He didn’t really care about the pain– it wasn’t any worse than he’d gotten before. With every hit, something in the back of his mind thought this is good . Take the hits, make them look like they hit harder than they did, then take them down.
It was easy money and he had to pay for the apartment he shared with Echo somehow , and with his roommate off-world fighting at Rex’s side more often than not, most of the bills–and monotony–fell to Crosshair.
A hard hit to the stomach brought him back to the present, the pain coiling deep within him. The feeling wasn’t… un pleasant. Good , that distant voice purred.
He stumbled, only half-faking, and fell onto one knee. His opponent, a zabrak he couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of, stepped towards him, but Crosshair was fast. He swept his legs out from under him, earning a loud wave of cheers from the gathered crowd. Crosshair crawled over him, delivering a swift hit to the back of his head, knocking him out cold.
The zabrak’s manager dragged him out of the ring, and Crosshair met his own at the edge closest to him.
“Ya did good, kid,” the rotund lasat grinned as he counted the credits a disgruntled weequay handed him.
Crosshair just grunted in response.
“That’s it for the night. Go home, fix ya-self up,” his manager said, handing him a half empty bottle of liquor. “See ya on Zhellday.”
Crosshair grunted again. He took the bottle, drained it, and dropped it to the floor.
“That was some fight,” a nearly naked twi’lek purred, wrapping herself around his side.
He shrugged.
“Where are you staying tonight?” she tried again.
“Not here.”
She giggled. “I think you meant to say my bed.”
Crosshair eyed her. “Can’t pay you.”
She hummed, brushing a lek over her shoulder. “Maybe I just like sleeping with winners.”
Fuck it , he thought, the alcohol finally hitting his system.
He followed the twi’lek to a cab that took them to a motel. She shared another bottle of some nondescript alcohol and a few spice sticks with him, and he left her well satisfied, still fixing his clothes as he stumbled out the door.
He caught a taxi out of the red-light district to the outskirts of Pantoran City, and stumbled his way up the stairs and into his apartment.
The lights were on, making his eyes sting.
“ –sshair? Hey, Cross– ”
Shit , he thought.
“Yeah, ‘shit’,” Echo grumbled. “Some way to greet your brother.”
Crosshair groaned. He was surely in for a lecture. He staggered a little, but Echo caught him.
“ Maker , you reek,” Echo complained. He sniffed. “Kriff, did you do spice , Cross?
“Y’ur unn ta talk ‘bout reekin’,” Crosshair slurred, poorly attempting to wriggle out of his brother’s grasp.
“Nope, no, you’re getting a fucking shower.”
Echo felt more like he was wrangling a feral tooka into the bathroom rather than his lanky brother.
He shoved him through the bathroom door standing in between Crosshair and the exit. “Come on, Cross. You know you’re gonna feel better if you get cleaned up,” Echo tried to reason.
“You dunno shit,” Crosshair growled.
Echo sighed. “Right, right. So we’re doing this then?”
Crosshair started to protest, but Echo was faster. He wrestled him into a headlock, dragging Crosshair with him into the wet room. He turned the water on, the chilly spray hitting both of them.
When Echo finally released him, he fell against the wall, catching himself with one hand and his face, directly in the stream.
“Strip,” Echo ordered.
Crosshair started to protest, but stopped himself when he saw his tormentor’s sour expression. Slowly, and with more difficulty than he should’ve faced, he wrestled his jacket off, and dragged his soaked shirt up over his head.
“Cross,” Echo gasped. “What the hell happened to you?”
Crosshair’s torso, arms, and hands were on full display, along with the deep purple bruises he’d accumulated over the last week’s worth of fights. His knuckles had bruises overlapping one another. His arms were covered in scratches, more bruises, and– was that a bite mark?
Crosshair saw him staring and looked down at the imprint of teeth on the skin of his arm. “Tha’ one was consenshul,” he slurred, making himself chuckle.
“ Par te cyarir be an kebise urman’la ,” Echo grumbled as he climbed out of the wet room to get their well-stocked and well-used med kit. [For the love of all things sacred.]
Crosshair laughed sardonically as Echo rolled his eyes and started laying out the various items he’d need. “Finish up in there so I can patch you up,” Echo said.
Crosshair stumbled out of the wet room a moment later, naked as the day he was decanted.
Echo sighed, grabbing a towel to hand to Crosshair, who swatted his hand away. “Maker, Cross, just let me help you !”
Crosshair stopped fighting him after that, resignedly accepting it as Echo smeared bacta over his bruises and wrapped them with a gentle, practiced hand.
“What happened, Cross?” Echo asked quietly. “Bar fight?”
“Nah,” his brother answered. “Nuh-uh.”
Echo frowned, his hand resting on Crosshair’s forearm. “ Please talk to me, Crosshair.”
Crosshair’s bloodshot and glassy eyes finally met Echo’s. They were tired . And sad.
“I fight,” he muttered. “‘N th’ red-light ‘nd all tha’.”
Echo scowled. “Are you saying you’re part of an underground fighting ring? The ones Riyo is constantly working to dismantle?”
Crosshair nodded gently, and Echo looked like he had about a hundred things he wanted to say, but instead he just took a deep breath.
“When is your next fight?”
Crosshair blinked a few times. “Uh… Zzz…zhell?”
“Zhellday? Alright, you’ve got three days to sober up then,” Echo said. “Let’s get some meds in you and some damn water .”
Crosshair felt very small, the wall of numbness he’d built up was starting to crumble. If Echo keeps being nice to me , he thought, in a brief moment of lucidity. I might just lose it .
He thought he thought it, but he must have said it aloud because Echo scoffed as he returned with the meds and water. “Yeah, I’m a ray of fuckin’ sunshine.”
Crosshair took the meds and drank the water, though the latter was under protest as he repeatedly told Echo it tasted like shit.
Eventually, Echo got him into his bed, sighing as he finally seemed to fall asleep.
As he stood up, a hand reached out to him. “Echo?” Crosshair whispered.
“Yeah, vod ?”
“‘m sorry.”
“You don’t have to–”
“Tryin’ not to think ‘bout ‘im so much.”
Echo sighed. “I know, Cross. Me, too.”
“‘m sorry, Echo,” Crosshair whimpered. Echo could feel his heartstrings tugging.
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?”
Crosshair sniffled. “‘kay.”