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Pabu. To the locals it was home, a nice place most had lived their whole lives on. To the clones, it was safety, a promise away from war and its horrors.
But even though it was quiet and peaceful, it was almost too peaceful. Or at least that's what Crosshair's mind screamed at night.
Anxiety, Tech would say. The anticipation that something bad was going to happen even in a place deemed safe. Tech explained that since he went from Republic to Empire to Tantiss and then was dropped into Pabu life, there wasn't a slow ease into peaceful life. None of the batch had a 'slow' ease but it was slower than Crosshair. While he was skeptical of the reasoning, Tech was usually right.
In the batch's home, you could practically hear every rustle without needing Hunter's enhanced senses. Crosshair hated it.
When he was a cadet, he cursed the rainstorms on Kamino. The loud thunder, bright flashes of lightning, the rolling waves, it all kept him awake most nights.
They weren't too far from the beach, in fact Omega went down there with Batcher every morning, but the crashing ocean waves were too faint to be soothing.
Finally having enough of tossing and turning, Crosshair tossed his blanket to the side and got up. He tiptoed across the house and quietly slipped on his shoes before leaving and making his way down to the beach.
It was late, the moon long since set. The dark was far from comforting but being able to see the stars made it a little better. He trudged to the docks, finding the extra one that didn't have a boat tied to it. The former sniper sat down at the end, left hand gripping the wood and right arm in his lap.
Crosshair felt phantom tremors in his right 'hand'. It annoyed him to no end. His heart fluttered and his arm came up to rub his chest. Now that he was thinking about it, his breathing hadn't slowed since he sat. It was shallow and fast.
He scooted back, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, dropping his head onto his knees and tried to breathe.
Footsteps quietly made their way towards him, the wood making them louder than they should've been. Crosshair recognized the gait, how could he not? He'd heard it enough through his life, there's no chance of forgetting it.
The footsteps stopped next to him before slight shuffling told him that they had sat down. Crosshair took a sharp breath in, blowing it out slowly.
"You know," The husky voice spoke up, "Tech says to breathe slowly in and out."
"Works better out." Crosshair said, not quite a snap but terse. Hunter huffed, whether it was in annoyance or amusement, Crosshair couldn't tell.
This wasn't the first time this has happened and it definitely won't be the last. It's always Hunter that comes to find him, either already awake or woken by someone moving around the house.
"How'd you do it?" Crosshair asks, voice small.
Hunter never thinks about their age order. He acts like the parent, the leader, the oldest. Wrecker and Tech, by all stereotypes, do often act like middle children, responsible but chaotic at times. But with Crosshair, he matured quickly and even others didn't guess that he was the youngest. Not by much, but still the youngest.
Hearing Crosshair's voice small, afraid, made the older brother instinct in Hunter activate.
"Well, to be honest, I don't know. It takes time. And I know that's not really what you want to hear, but it's the truth. It’s too early to know how long it’ll take for you." Hunter said, carefully putting a hand on Crosshair's shoulder so as not to scare him. The contact helped, softening the tension in his muscles. Actions, Crosshair’s love language, both giving and receiving.
"I don't..." Crosshair started, taking another breath in, this time slower, and exhaling just as slow, looking up at his brother, "I can't relax. It's been so long since we've had an assignment, I feel like at any moment we'll be called to the next fight."
Hunter moved his hand from his shoulder to his back, rubbing small circles across his upper back. "It's okay. You're safe now. You're here, on Pabu, and it's safe.”
Crosshair just huffed, dropping his head down to his knees again. Hunter continued the circles but stayed silent.
Truth was, they had this conversation several times. Hunter was prepared for the lash outs and harsh words with a venom tone and soft eyes. He wasn't prepared for Crosshair to lean into his side, curling up like a cadet and putting his ear to Hunter’s chest to listen to his heartbeat.
The older clone just adjusted, his hand going from his back to his shoulder, holding him close. Whether it was from coming down from an anxiety high or just the late hour, Crosshair found himself nuzzling close and closing his eyes.
The ocean waves lapped below in a soft crash, the breeze blowing foliage in whispers, and the rise and fall as two clones breathed the sweet scent of Pabu. Of safety.