Work Text:
“I wish I could get you back,” Crosshair said down at the datapad in his hands.
He was all alone, sitting by the water, waves gentle as they lapped against the sand. Crosshair hated this place. Hated it because it was too easy to forget he was a soldier, hated it because he could feel himself listening to the soothing voice of the waves, hated it because he didn’t know who he was supposed to be.
Hated it because Tech wasn’t here, like he had wanted.
“I—it’s not fair that the last time I saw you was when I wanted you to leave me. That I’d… hurt you. And before that… Everything was so confusing. But I think you knew I wasn’t myself.
“I lost track of days while… imprisoned, but I know it’s been over a year since I saw you last. I’m sorry for what I did, what I said. I’m… glad you understood me, but I wished I hadn’t been the problem then.”
Crosshair looked out across the vast ocean, wondering if that force could swallow him up.
But then what would have been the point of Omega finishing Tech’s final mission?
She had saved him when Tech couldn’t.
She had done that for him, because of who she was, who her family had built her into. There were things in her that resembled all of them, he was realizing. Her open, unashamed laughter made him think of Wrecker, her ability to lead and take charge in a crisis made him think of Hunter, he thought of Echo when she was kind, thought of himself when she was snarky, and… there was so much about her that was like Tech. The way she sometimes had a bunch of information to share, and she was going to share it one way or another. The way she’d raise a finger to make a point, or admit that a dangerous mission was fun.
Crosshair wiped away some wetness on his face.
“I wish you could see her, Tech. I wish you could see the—the brave, selfless girl you turned her into. She loves so hard, and she’s always willing to sacrifice. It’s hard to see her like that sometimes, but I guess she learned that from you.”
He sighed, clutching the datapad hard in his trembling hand.
“Sometimes I… well… I’m angry with you,” he got out, feeling a fire of betrayal burn deep in his chest, so fierce he felt as if he couldn’t breathe. The words came out anyway, like torture upon his lips, “I sent that message to make you go into hiding, to protect yourselves, protect Omega. I wish… I wish you hadn’t cared about me so much. Then—then…” Crosshair had to pause, finding it hard to get the words out, chest feeling like it was being pounded in with a hammer, his heart ready to rupture. “Then you’d still be here,” he eventually said.
What he didn’t voice was, Maybe I wouldn’t be.
But maybe that would have been better.
He had wanted Tech to stay away, had wanted him to live. And—and maybe Crosshair was the reason he was dead.
No, no. Tech knew what that message had meant.
He’d ignored it.
He’d ignored it because he had loved him.
And Crosshair didn’t feel like he had even deserved anything like love at that point, especially from his family. He had hurt them so much, had put fear in their hearts.
And now he was here, paying for it with Tech’s absence.
“I learned what you had done. From Hemlock, of all people. I didn’t believe it at first, but… Omega told me the whole thing. I wish you were here just so I could hit you and tell you what an absolute idiot you were. But then… then I wouldn’t have to tell you that because you’d be alive. You’d be alive.
“I know we’re soldiers. I know we’re supposed to die. Somehow I never thought how that would include you. I suppose I thought it was impossible that someone so talkative, so full of information and wonder, and with more intelligence than anyone I’ve ever known—that that person could… could die.
“I don’t know what to do without you. I keep going because I have no choice, but your death was just another torment for me. You hurt me. You hurt me, you kriffing idiot!” he cried. “What were you thinking? I know what you were thinking. Omega told me everything. I see how there was no other way, but there should have been! Maybe you should have just stayed here, and left me inside that mountain.”
Crosshair’s throat was sore from speaking so much. He didn’t know what else to say. Could loop across these same ideas over and over because what else was he supposed to do?
Yet after his tears dried, he looked out toward the ocean, out toward the sky.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for caring.”
“Who are you talking to?” Omega asked, making Crosshair jump.
For once he’d let his other senses get distracted, and hadn’t known she was approaching.
He hurriedly wiped his face.
“No one,” he responded.
Omega looked down at Tech’s datapad in Crosshair’s trembling hand.
She sat down beside him, gently holding his wrist.
“Guess I’ll talk to no one too.”
Crosshair let out a surprised laugh at her quick understanding, her little joke.
And they sat there in silence till the wind off the ocean left them chilly and racing back to the Marauder to get warm.
The others were out, and Omega was now flushed from all the running. She caught up with Batcher, and then said she’d get an ice cone for him.
Crosshair nodded, and went to put Tech’s datapad away.
He left it amongst his things they hadn’t had the heart to get rid of.
Maybe Hunter liked to torture himself with Tech’s broken, and bloodied goggles. But Tech was no longer in them, his spirit had not been in what helped him see, but in what he’d used and loved. Well, that was how Crosshair saw it.
He put a hand to the datapad, thanking it again.
Then he walked out into the sunlight—something he had thought he’d never see again. And that sun shone on him not just thanks to Omega, but thanks to Tech too.
He laughed as Omega came racing up, Batcher trying to eat one of the ice cones.
He took the blue one Omega offered, holding it well away from Batcher. He sat by the Marauder with his daughter, free, and missing Tech with every second.
He supposed that’s how love worked eventually: it always ended with sadness, bitter feelings, regrets.
But knowing Tech had made it all worth it.