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Crosshair’s hand was shaking as he held it close to himself, wrapping his other hand around it to try and keep it still. He’d just been let out of his restraints, and had said he needed time to be alone.
At least while alone he couldn’t hurt anyone else.
Crosshair remembered the incident in flashes. It had seemed he was well enough, he hadn’t had a relapse in a few weeks, but something on their mission had triggered it. He had stunned Omega, and had fired at Hunter, and Tech, blaster very much no longer set to stun.
And that version of himself that did that, his aim was perfect, deadly.
He remembered getting stunned as well, and then he’d woken up in the restraints. Even then he hadn’t entirely been himself.
But now, sitting in the gunner’s mount, the familiar sight of hyperspace around him, he didn’t know who he was even supposed to be. Was he supposed to be who he had been before the chip? When the chip was working? While he was in Tantiss, afterwards, this person Hemlock had secretly made him into?
The mission was done. That was part of the deconditioning they’d done.
Tech had found a way to show him his own memories, to bring them to light in his brain again. To see Tantiss is ruins, to see Hemlock’s body. There was no mission anymore.
Yet he supposed his brain just… didn’t get it.
He didn’t know how to face Omega.
He had been there for her after their escape, had wanted to be her father.
Now he wasn’t good enough for that. He supposed, secretly, he hadn’t been.
And he’d stunned her.
He’d hurt her.
He had even seen her afterwards. She was bruised from falling to the ground.
Crosshair had done that.
Unbidden, her smile came to the forefront of his mind, and Crosshair held his breath, hunching in on himself, trying not to sob.
He didn’t deserve that smile. Didn’t deserve to be near her.
He didn’t deserve to be near any of them. He was a liability.
There were times when Crosshair had tried to leave, but he really didn’t want to. He felt like he had to. But even during those times the conditioning would kick in, and he couldn’t even attempt to escape them. The conditioning said they were his mission, that Omega was.
Spots floated in his vision.
He inhaled, breath ragged.
He turned, sensing someone was watching him.
Then lowered his head because it was Omega . She had black and blue across the bridge of her nose, and her left cheek.
“Stay away from me,” he hissed.
Omega mounted the steps anyway.
“It’s normal that you need more time,” she said, putting a hand on the back of the seat.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay, then you don’t have to. But I want you to know that I don’t blame you.”
“Well I. Do.”
“Then stop.”
“What?” he asked, glaring now.
“Stop blaming yourself,” Omega said, swinging around in front of him.
He looked away, and let out a harsh laugh. “You know it’s not that easy.”
She lowered her head. “I know. But I know who to blame, and I know you know who to blame.”
“Don’t say his name,” Crosshair begged.
“Don’t worry. Trust me, I don’t want to.”
There was a flash of pain in his head even just thinking of him, and Crosshair winced, temporarily hiding his eyes from the light.
“Look, it’s like… like healing from an injury. You don’t recover in a nice upwards line. There are setbacks, and flare-ups, and bad days. Today was just a bad day.”
“How can you be so calm about it?” Crosshair asked.
Omega shrugged. “Because I know you.”
“Don’t sound so sure,” he bit out.
There was a flash of pain over her face, and he regretted his words. Crosshair didn’t know how to apologize.
“I don’t like seeing you like you were today,” Omega admitted. “It hurts to know th—-that you didn’t escape Tantiss unscathed. I knew they were… doing things to you. I didn’t know what. I want you to be okay, but I know it takes time.”
Crosshair sighed, and leaned back.
He didn’t want to do this. Not now. Not ever.
“Go away,” he sighed.
For a second anger painted itself across Omega’s face, but it faded again. Her undying love for others seemed to win out, and Crosshair felt himself get frustrated over it, even as another part of him loved that about her.
She put a hand on his shoulder. He almost flinched back, the image of stunning her coming to mind, remembering how fiercely he’d thought that he had to take her to Tantiss.
He closed his eyes.
Omega left, and Crosshair was all alone again.
He wanted it to stay that way.
It’d be for the best.
Yet he wanted to be with his family.
Crosshair nearly screamed, feeling like he was being torn apart.
He wanted to kill the other Crosshair, shoot him full of blaster bolts till he was smoking ash. He was not Hemlock’s design. He couldn’t be. Hemlock was dead. So why wasn’t he?
“I hate you,” Crosshair said into the relative silence.
He hated Hemlock, he hated Hemlock’s version of himself, the sleeper agent, and he hated himself. He was too weak to get rid of Hemlock’s conditioning, it seemed. Too weak to recover. Too weak to do the right thing and leave his family safely behind. He hated the man he had been in Tantiss, the man who walked to his torture, day after day after day after day.
Why hadn’t he fought more?
Why hadn’t he caused problems so maybe he would become too much to keep working on? He should have made them kill him.
Omega would have been safe that way, he supposed.
His family would be safe.
There was a darkness leaking through him, from his chest. He could feel it. It ran in his blood. But he’d already cut himself again and again, and had found it the same red it had always been.
It was hiding. That darkness was hiding. It had come out today, and he was weak to have let it done so.
Why didn’t Hunter just leave him behind? He’d done it before. Surely it wouldn’t be hard for him to do it again.
Crosshair used to think he would do it again, before he even knew what Hemlock had done to him, and now…
He was a threat to Omega, his daughter, Hunter’s daughter.
Maybe he couldn’t heal. Maybe Tech wasn’t smart enough to help him. Maybe Echo, Wrecker, and Hunter weren’t kind enough, selfless enough, brave enough to help him.
Maybe the most perfect life-form in all the galaxy couldn’t help him.
He was torn in two, divided, no longer his own self. His hands that had fired at Omega weren’t his hands, his thoughts weren’t his thoughts, his breaths were stealing another man’s air. A man he used to be. CT-9904. Crosshair.
Who was he now except a useless mess?
A sigh sounded behind him, and he straightened, turning.
“What?” he snarled at Hunter.
Hunter crossed his arms, seemingly uncaring of Crosshair’s sharp tone. He almost wished Hunter was here to say he was being kicked out, that they were leaving him somewhere, that he was too dangerous.
Crosshair winced at the flash of memory of himself firing at Hunter, right for his head.
“I know you said you wanted to be alone,” Hunter started, “but I know you. You’re just over here beating yourself up.”
“So what if I am?”
“It won’t make you feel better.”
“Oh, and I suppose you know all about being the successful experiment of a madman, Mr. Perfect I-Can-Do-No-Wrong Hunter?”
Hunter just let out a low whistle.
“Sounds like you’ve had practice talking to yourself like that,” Hunter said. “Look, I know you. I know you care about Omega, and I have seen you happy since… well, since our battle ended. You’ll probably want to take me out just for saying it, but I’ve seen you smile. I’ve seen what you fight for, what ideals are important to you. How you act. You still act like that grumpy beanpole of a cadet sometimes. I know how much you like to beat yourself up, all right? Not just because I’ve seen you do it all our lives, but because I do it too. So come on, we’re playing sabacc, we have snacks. Come join us.”
“And you’re not afraid I’ll take you all out?”
“Are you?”
Crosshair turned away, but answered, “Yes.”
“Would you rather be in binders and have your weapons confiscated, for old time’s sake?”
Crosshair was surprised to find himself laughing at that.
“Maybe not the binders,” he said, rising.
A fear burned in his gut at the thought of being around them. He knew he was trained in hand-to-hand combat, that he could kill all of them without a weapon. But… Hunter was right. Maybe… Maybe he did need to be with them.
Crosshair hesitated.
“Please. Before Wrecker eats all the popcorn.”
Crosshair liked the smile that brought to his face. It felt good .
He was sore from being tackled, and stunned repeatedly, and then struggling against his binders before another session with Tech. But his next best option to being alone was lying in his rack and hoping he died before he killed everyone else.
He… he needed this, as much as it scared him.
Hunter smiled as Crosshair came up to him.
It nearly made Crosshair cry because it was a smile he’d known all his life, and it made him feel safe. But so much had happened, and—
Stay in the moment. Everyone’s safe, everyone’s having a good time together, and you can too.
He heard Wrecker shout from the cockpit, “What? Again? That’s not fair. Echo, is she cheating?”
“Excuse me,” Omega said. “I am not cheating.”
Tech said, “It is statistically possible that you are when looking at how many wins you have, but seeing as you haven’t cheated before, I find it highly unlikely.”
“Wrecker, I’ve been siting next to her the whole time. She’s not cheating.”
“Aw, man.”
Hunter patted his back as he continued walking.
Now, Hunter at his side, Crosshair joined his family. Most of them were sitting on the deck because of issues with space, and a seat was saved for him. Crosshair didn’t take it, opting to sit next to Omega.
Wrecker offered him the bowl of red and purple popcorn, and Crosshair took a handful.
“Who’s in the lead?” Crosshair asked.
“Who do you think?” Echo said, as Hunter sat beside him.
Crosshair leaned over to Omega saying, “Good job.”
She nudged him with her shoulder.
“Just don’t look at my cards,” she said as Tech dealed them out.
Crosshair realized that for a few moments he had been entirely distracted from the day’s events, that he hadn’t thought of how he had tried to hurt them, of how he might try to do so again.
He wasn’t better. In fact, he was sure he was a long way from healed. Though, gone were the days where he was guarded and restrained nearly all hours of the day. Yet he knew that conditioned part lived inside him. For now, it was silent. He thought perhaps his family, the very people it sought to hurt, to kill, kept it silent.
He smiled as Wrecker broke into a wild story of how Omega must be winning so much. And then smiled more as Tech and Echo began to argue with him about it.
In a way it felt like old times. But with his daughter at his side… it was better than old times.
Crosshair would go through what he had a million times over to have her here, to feel… well… he supposed what he felt was love.
He accidentally glanced at Omega’s cards, and she hid them, and accused him of cheating. Though she had that light in her eyes that was always present when she was joking.
“Fine, I’m cheating,” he said, going along with it.
The others started laughing, and Hunter gave Crosshair a nudge.
Yes, maybe this was better than old times.