Chapter Text
Pabu was never the type of place Crosshair ever thought he’d reside in. Then again, he wasn’t ever known to be a prospective person either, he never entertained where or what he would be doing past blaster fire and following orders.
Following orders.
His hand clenched as he shoved whatever feelings arose at the thought. A pain shot up his arm from where his other hand no longer was, severed tendons cramping as they also tried to form a fist. Annoyingly, he hadn’t been able to figure out how to stop that. And he’d rather drown in the ocean than bring it up to anyone.
Crosshair massaged his arm and stubbornly focused his gaze back on the civilians of Pabu. This is how he’d spent the past few months– people watching, Omega called it. Not wanting to hang around to see his brothers’ pitiful stares or be treated like he was a ticking bomb, he perched himself on one of the higher streets of Pabu’s mountain and “people watched”. Where, the most exciting thing that happened was someone’s flower bed getting trampled on by Batcher.
Because what was he now but a glorified set of binoculars.
Another twinge in his arm at that thought.
Things were finally slowing down, but it increasingly felt like he was getting left behind. His brothers and Omega had already established themselves in Pabu before he’d rejoined them. They easily occupied themselves with integrating the handful of regs they’d rescued into the civilian population after Tantis. Even Crosshair was offered an apprehensive hand from Hunter, already trying to mend the bond that had been shattered between them. But a choking feeling rose in his throat that caused him to sneer at his brother, pushing away.
Everyone was trying to heal and act like everything was okay now when it wasn’t. Crosshair still felt hurt, angry, lonely– they left him behind and betrayed the Empire they were supposed to serve. Only for him to also get discarded by the Empire he swore to, just like all the other clones. He was by himself for so long… but they came back, didn’t they? They came back for him, and now he has to live with the guilt and regret that sat like rocks in his stomach as he startled awake from nightmares of him glaring at his own family through his scope.
He hated how beaten down he felt. Hated how gentle they were with him, how patient Omega was when something set him off– but they all talked around him like he’d one day come to them with open arms and join their circle of comfort.
Crosshair stubbornly held himself two arm lengths away. He jabbed where it hurt because he didn’t want their care.
…Is what he’s convinced himself.
Suddenly, the thundering sound of a ship entering the atmosphere startled him from his self-loathing, the ship gliding down and landing itself at the center of the island’s square next to the Marauder. He squinted and recognized Captain Rex’s ship. They weren’t expecting any visitors, and Rex was always sure to communicate ahead of time to alert them
Well, usually, it was Echo who did that on Rex’s behalf.
The ramp to Rex’s ship lowered, and while Crosshair didn’t have Hunter’s hearing, he could definitely see the agitated body language of the two former-501st brothers. Rex was leading the way, marching like he had a stick up his ass, and Echo was closely following, wildly gesturing back to the ship. To which Rex spun around, jabbing a finger to Echo’s chest, barking something back at him before resuming his pace.
Crosshair’s eyebrows minutely raised in amusement. He knew the looks of a superior putting their foot down– Rex had just given Echo an order. And Echo, always the one to still care about military tact, stayed planted in place, not following the Captain. He could see the rapid rising and falling of the cyborg’s chest, hand balled into a fist.
And, well, curiosity killed the tooka, and Crosshair was in need of an actual distraction. So he started the long walk back down the island. He’d never admit it to anyone, but the reg had long since wormed his way into a special spot in his heart that he didn’t even know he had, after the two got over their grievances when the cyborg first joined their squad. He always said to himself it was the disbelief and admiration of how Echo could go through something so tragic and still rebound to work for the Republic that left him behind.
After his time at Tantis, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was a fraction of what Echo felt like after they saved him from Skako Minor.
—--------
The door knob to the Batch’s home slowly turned, and he cracked the front door open just enough to slide in. It creaked when they swung it all the way open, and Crosshair didn’t feel like making himself entirely known. The entrance was a straight hallway, to the right were doors to three bedrooms next to each other. The left side was an archway that opened up to the living room. The kitchen and one other guest room shared the area.
He stepped up towards the living room, faltering when he heard Rex’s exasperated tone. Crosshair was never one to eavesdrop, but…
“–not dumping him on you, Hunter, he needs to take a break. And to be somewhere completely detached from… everything.”
“I know, I know,” Hunter sighed. “But I thought he was doing fine with you out there?”
There was a pause, and Crosshair could imagine Rex was giving Hunter a look. “When has Echo ever been just fine?”
Hunter laughed, as if it was some inside joke between them. Maybe it was. Crosshair missed a lot of time between them. “Don’t worry, Captain. Our hospitality’s as good as ever here. We’ll get him back up and ready.”
Another pause. “That’s… actually the issue at hand. I think– I think he should start settling down. Like you guys have.”
He recalled the ARC’s agitated stance. Settling down and Echo didn’t exactly feel right in the same sentence. He was a constant moving force, an ace you could always rely on. Hells, when he first joined the Batch it was a pain in the ass to get him to have a proper sleep schedule so his body could start recovering from his time under the Techno Union– Echo was so adamant on picking back up right where he left off. After a particularly bad seizure, it was revealed that he was stuck trying to prove his value to his new squad. (Hunter had been appalled that something like that happened under his command. Crosshair rolled his eyes– stubbornly, at the time, his opinion of Echo had remained the same).
The ARC had left shortly after they’d gotten situated from Tantiss, off to save more regs at the unyielding hands of the Empire. Crosshair didn’t understand it, and ignored how his heart twisted with something akin to grief as the departing ship got smaller and smaller in the sky.
But that’s how Echo had always been. Grumpy, with a heart too big for his mechanical chest.
And stupid.
“I mean, you got Crosshair to settle down, didn’t you?” He heard Rex say lightheartedly, and Crosshair figured he was done stewing. He wasn’t going to trust Hunter to talk on his behalf without him there.
He entered the cozy living room of their home. Sunlight filtered in through open windows, various carpets and worn furniture that was generously donated to them from Shep gave it a homey atmosphere that made Crosshair sick to his stomach.
Hunter glanced at him knowingly. “Speak of the Sith.” He faltered and coughed when all he got was a carefully blank glance from the sniper.
Where Hunter fumbled, Rex picked up the conversation, smiling easily at him. “It’s good to see you, Crosshair. I hope you've been well– Pabu’s a lovely island.”
I hope you’ve been well. A horrible sentiment, he can’t remember the last time anything’s ever been well. Crosshair just hummed and rolled his shoulders, because he’s not a small-talk type of person. “What’s this about dumping your reg on us?”
Rex bristled with exasperation, but Hunter replied before the Captain could. “Echo’s just due for some rest, is all. He’s dropping him off.” And gave him a look that said, leave it be.
Crosshair couldn’t help his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “And you’re having this conversation without him present?” He’s more than aware things had changed from his time apart from his brothers– but he still knows Echo hates choices being made for him. A part of the post-traumatic stress disorder from his autonomy being taken from him in such an aggressive way. Tech had gone on and on about it when they were still trying to figure out the new member to their squad.
“He’ll dig his heels in and you know that,” Hunter argued.
“Because making decisions for him has always gone well,” he drawled.
“I understand the concern, Crosshair.” Rex turned towards him, and eugh, when did he get such a diplomatic look to him? “But I’ve known him. I’m his Captain. I know–”
For some reason something angry curled in his gut and Crosshair sneered, “Captain of what? The GAR isn’t a thing anymore, and that little Resistance you have is just an underground gagglefuck waiting to be busted.” In his peripheral he could see Hunter practically shooting bolts at him with his eyes, but there was no stopping now. He could feel himself getting hot, pulling more anger from his seemingly endless supply. “You’re using him by pulling rank because you know he’ll still respect you, no matter what, because that’s who Echo is.” He stepped up to Rex and towered over him, growling, “The only reason why he isn’t here right now, is because you ordered him to stay put.”
“Crosshair! Stop,” Hunter snapped, grabbing his shoulder and tugging him away from Rex.
He yanked his arm away, glaring back at his brother. “Someone has to stand up for him, and you weren’t. He isn’t some lost tooka bouncing between owners.”
Hunter dragged a hand across his face. In the moment, he looked exhausted; their time off really was allowing their ragged bodies to finally catch up to the constant wear and tear from the war. “You’re right, he isn’t. But that’s not Rex’s intention– and you know that.”
“Do I?” he hissed back, feeling satisfaction at the barely concealed frustration that was ebbing off of Hunter. In the back of his head, he knew this wasn’t about Echo anymore. His mind was back on Kamino, in the old battle simulator, arguing with Hunter with the fresh wound of being left behind on his mind.
Hunter pointed his finger at Crosshair. “Yes, you do, just like how I know-,” he jabbed it into Crosshair’s chest, “-that you’re being difficult on purpose. Again.”
He gawked– saying that in front of Rex was foul. Gritting his teeth, he smacked Hunter’s hand away. “And you’re making the wrong calls for your squad. Again. No surprise there.”
Hunter’s face stoned over, the conversation suddenly taking a different, more personal route. “We’re not doing this in front of Rex.” And oh, now he had a problem doing it in front of their guest.
Rex awkwardly cleared his throat. “I can step out for a second if–”
“No,” Hunter coaxed apologetically at the same time Crosshair snapped, “Yes.”
The sniper shot a scalding glare as Hunter quickly took charge. “Cross and I will talk after. I’m sure you have other business to attend to.”
Rex looked towards the exit regretfully. “I do. Listen, my intent isn’t to seem like I’m dropping him and leaving like you’re some sort of daycare.” He glanced at Crosshair. “Force, I’d keep him by my side until every star in the galaxy snuffed out. But,” he sighed through his nose, tapping his fingers on the bucket he held on his hip, “he’s had a lot of close calls recently. He’s becoming too reckless. And Echo isn’t reckless. Maybe a root for chaos, but never reckless. A-and I think there’s something wrong with him mechanically, but he’s been a closed book and refuses to let me in on what’s going on.” He looked at a loss. “I really don’t know.”
“Have you tried talking with him?” Hunter asked, and Crosshair already knew the answer.
“Of course I have. I’ve even suggested for him to give a call back here, if it’s something he doesn’t want me in on.” He shook his head, eyes heavy at his feet. “The Resistance’s in a rough spot right now. Nothing we can’t handle, but I think they’re starting to catch on to what we’re doing, due to what was pulled at Tantis.”
Crosshair felt a cold flash at the mention of the place, guilt pressing heavily in his gut. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide any reaction that might have shown. It was like everything tied to him had a negative chain reaction that followed.
Rex looked up, eyes hardened, not noticing the sniper’s discomfort. “He’s one of the last kids I got. I’ve practically lost the rest of my brothers on that Destroyer after Order 66,” he choked, clearing his throat to regain his bearing. “But I have a whole Resistance to look after now. He just needs some rest, and I know it’s been awhile since he’s seen you all. Just for a few days, a week if you can convince him.”
It was funny how despite his brothers no longer wearing their armor and instead living like normal people, old habits died hard. It’s impossible to leave a pleading Captain empty handed. Hunter straightened, looking like the Sergeant he was only a year ago. “We’ll take care of him, Captain.” He placed a comforting hand on Rex’s shoulder. “Won’t be the first time.”
Rex chuckled gruffly, shoulders dropping an inch in relief. “Put it on the tab.”
The moment quickly turned sour for Crosshair as memories of an easier time surfaced, and he abruptly excused himself from the living room, feeling Hunter’s stare lingering after him.
—----
Trudging away from their home, the island felt suffocating. Everyone was too kind and patient with each other, greeting him even when they saw him from afar, a stark contrast to the unempathetic and relentless ways of the Empire. There, Crosshair had a purpose, but was always under threat of the other shoe dropping on him.
Here, he had no purpose. He still waited for the other shoe to drop anyway.
“You’re being difficult on purpose.”
He grit his teeth, anger bubbling back into his chest, heart pounding a steady beat. Damn Hunter for saying something like that in front of Rex. Maybe before, Crosshair wouldn’t have paid any mind to the Captain and given Hunter a fist full to the face of how he made him feel. But that was before–
“–raise the voltage.” A hand gripped his jaw in anger. “We’ll see how far you get until your stubbornness breaks for me.”
A phantom pain shot up Crosshair’s arm and he grabbed at it, hissing. Damn everything. He hated these uncontrollable flashes. He was never made to have emotions like this. It was just supposed to be him awaiting orders behind his rifle, shooting perpetrators as his squad moved in to achieve the objective. The repeated cycle of inhale, exhale, slow, steady squeeze, bang. Nothing more.
As his arm twinged once more and his chest still heaved from the now-fading anger at Hunter, it all felt like a wave looming over Crosshair’s head about to crash down and knock him off his feet.
He was abruptly startled by the sound of metal clattering onto the ground, pulling him out of his head, and he looked up to see the empty entrance of Rex’s ship. He remembered he was on his way to see Echo. Because despite his current grievances with his other siblings, Echo was normally a fresh breath of air. And he could admit to himself that’s all he wanted right now after the constant unease of being on Pabu.
But Echo wasn’t on Rex’s ship.
There was another clatter coming from the Marauder, followed by hushed cursing. Crosshair leaned his head down to see past Rex’s hull and saw the Marauder’s ramp lowered as well.
For an ARC, he sure sucks at sneaking around.
He silently entered the ship and saw Echo’s back as he was knelt down rummaging through a toolbox. More specifically, Tech’s toolbox full of any size millimeter wrench and screwdrivers one could ever need. It was one of the various knick knacks his brother collected– it didn’t matter if he already had one of the same size, he’d conjure up some pragmatic reason why he needed to keep this specific tool, and into the box it went.
“You’ll never find whatever you’re looking for in there,” Crosshair spoke, causing Echo to startle and whip around. His eyes were more sunken than usual, a telltale sign that he’d been neglecting sleep. A habit they’d all wrestled with.
“Crosshair.” Echo glanced behind the sniper. “What’re you doing here?”
Crosshair lifted a brow. “I live here.”
Echo stared before he rolled his eyes, grumbling– “Smartass”– and quickly closed the box, shoving it back into its compartment.
They both lingered awkwardly. Crosshair took in the sight of Echo– he seemed to have lost a bit of weight in his face. Weight that would’ve had Wrecker in a fit; he’s always been the Batch’s nutritionist. He glanced downwards and saw Echo was missing the shield to his right knee. Something that acted like a knee-cap over his metallic joints. The cyborg shifted his weight, noticing the sniper’s line of sight.
“Stop staring,” Echo growled, pushing past Crosshair to leave the ship before he could notice anything else. “Where’s Tech at?”
“Someone’s pushy,” Crosshair teased, “Didn’t want to see me?”
Echo ignored him, dragging a sigh. “You know what? It’s fine, I’ll find him myself.”
“You won’t. He’s currently off planet with his lady-friend, they'll be back in a few days,” he called, crossing his arms. “But it’s not like you’re in a rush to go anywhere.” They may not be as close as they used to, but Crosshair still knew how to get Echo to talk. While others gave him space when he closed his walls, Crosshair slipped through and pushed.
Echo bristled, taking the bait. “I’m only here for as long as I want to be,” he snapped, adding on a grumbled, “No matter what Rex thinks.”
Hooked. “And that’s why you stayed out here when he told you to?” Crosshair slinked behind, feeling a faint giddiness knowing it was the opposite of what the ARC wanted. Echo was fuming, and it felt like a breath of fresh air. It was much easier to terrorize and pick at the cyborg over his issues, than continue to run circles in his own head over stupid nothings.
What Echo said next snuffed that train of thought. “How’s your arm?”
Too quickly, that looming wave towered over again and his heart dropped. “Fine,” he snapped.
Echo slowed his pace for a second, glancing back. Spotting Crosshair’s dishevelment he sighed, scratching beneath his headpiece. Another nervous habit that seemed to resurface during his time away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should know better than that.”
And, well, it wasn’t like Crosshair was helping either. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, but he still followed when Echo walked up the ramp to Rex’s ship, stopping right before the entrance. It wasn’t that he was shocked at Echo’s jab– he was known to throw just as dirty comments as Crosshair if you really crossed him the wrong way. It was just fewer in-between.
What was eating at Crosshair was once again, this weak and fragile part of him that bled at everything. It caused his heart to race, his breath to get caught in his throat, a pit in his stomach– his karking arm to twinge painfully. He rubbed the cuff of his wrist absentmindedly.
“But, seriously…” Echo had resumed digging through other compartments on Rex’s ship, still searching for whatever tool he was in need of. “How are you holding up? I haven’t heard much whenever I called. Didn’t hear from you at all, actually.”
Crosshair pointedly ignored him. He didn’t want to talk about it and he wasn’t going to start now.
“I only ask ‘cause, y’know,” he waved his scomp around. “Been there.”
He bit back a groan. That was all Hunter could seem to mention when he caught Crosshair in pain. “I bet Echo could help you out with that.” “Have you talked to Echo?” “Echo might have a solution to it.” He loathed it. It felt… wrong to try and hold a candle up to what Echo went through, and ask for advice as if it was similar.
Echo didn’t choose what happened to him.
Crosshair hadn’t either… until he did as the ruins of Kamino sank beneath the ocean. As he sat there for thirty-two days, malnourished and dehydrated. And everything after the fact, when he continued to track down his squad, almost obsessively, to prove he was right. When he looked through his scope with hatred, seeing them run away from him. When in the end, every time he closed his eyes Mayday still died in his arms—
He shut down those thoughts and finally sneered, “What, are you tryna force a droid hand on me, too?” But the insult was half-hearted, his moment of hesitation betraying his flare.
Echo turned around with an unamused stare. But Crosshair knew the words registered by the single back and forth turn of his scomp.
Footsteps approached from behind, and he turned to see Rex walking up with an apprehensive look on his face, bucket resting on his hip. Their conversation with Hunter flew through his head and his own mood soured further.
Crosshair turned back to Echo, whose face also immediately hardened at Rex. “Getting ready to leave, then?” Echo grumbled, somehow more aggressively searching through the storage box he opened.
“Just give yourself a few days,” Rex coaxed, slipping past Crosshair to put a hand on Echo’s shoulder. “The last few missions were close. Too close.”
“I know what I’m in for,” Echo pressed. He stood up to face the Captain, his expression pleading. “I volunteered to join the Resistance. I can’t just sit back while more of our brothers are out there, while Maker-knows-what is happening to them!” His scomp started whirring more as his emotions got the better of him.
Crosshair caught a glance from Rex. A small cry for help, but the sniper turned his eyes away. He was not getting pulled into this argument. Especially one so… touchy.
“We’re not gonna keep going in circles about this,” Rex sighed. “Look. The others are sure to get decent rest when they can. I have to practically drag you away from the computer to get you to stop doom-scrolling through MIA and KIA reports until you work yourself dry!”
Echo set his jaw. “You’re asking me to stop, and I just can’t do that,” he hissed.
“Not stop,” Rex tilted his head and pursed his lips, trying to regain eye contact with Echo again. “Just rest. Take a break. Your body needs it. Now that you’re here, you can even have Tech take a look at–”
“Tech doesn’t need to look at anything,” Echo rushed.
The reg was always horrible at lying.
The tension grew icy again, and Crosshair rolled his eyes as he got another glance from Rex. “Reg.” The familiar nickname rolled off his tongue too easily. “You’re missing a kneecap.”
Echo had the audacity to look down like he didn’t know.
“Here.” Rex tossed Crosshair something, when he caught it he saw it was a screwdriver– a two and a quarter millimeter Z-tip.
“I’ve been looking for that!” Echo groaned, and Rex huffed a laugh.
“Just a few days. I encourage you to take as much time as you need,” he told Echo as he started to guide him down the ramp of his ship. When the ARC opened his mouth to keep persisting he put a finger up. “I’ll be sure to comm Hunter if I really need you.” He put a hand over his heart. “Haat, ijaa, haa’it.”.
Crosshair blinked. Mando’a. Regs always used it. The Batch never picked it up, standing in solitude from the rest of the clones.
Echo dipped his head, suddenly shy. “Captain, you don’t need to vow to something like that.”
Rex returned a pointed look.
“Haat, ijaa, haa’it,” Echo mumbled, reflecting the gesture as redness crept up his neck.
“Atta boy.” The Captain then gave Crosshair a hard jostle on the shoulder. “It was good seeing you again, Cross. Take care of each other.”
“What a mother hen,” Crosshair groaned, causing Echo to let out a quiet smirk, a forlorn look shadowing his face.
“He’s always been.”
They watched as the ramp withdrew, and soon enough, Rex’s ship powered up and was in the sky again, getting smaller and smaller.
Crosshair glanced to the side at Echo, who was still as a statue looking after it.
It reminded him of how he felt watching the Marauder flee away from Kamino without him.