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CT-9904- or “Crosshair”, as he was called by his brothers- figured out he was different pretty early on. All he had to do was see a regular cadet and he knew that even his own batchmates were closer in appearance to them than he was— with his smaller than normal frame and distinct silver hair. It was hard to believe he was even a clone.
But he didn’t really complain, because he didn’t have the same struggles as his other brothers. Hunter got bad headaches from his enhanced senses thing. Wrecker had painful growth spurts and was always pushed past his limit by the Kaminoan jerks. Tech… well, Tech didn’t have any apparent side effects other than his distinct personality and slightly different appearance until his eyesight went bad and he got goggles to see properly.
And, sure, Crosshair had testing too. Testing for his eyesight, which at times left him with a headache or in an irritable mood, but the entire batch was pushed past their limits on a regular basis, and he believed sometimes he lucked out compared to the rest of them. So he did his best to not worry them about his minor inconveniences. Sure, he would snap about the Kaminoans or the regs, but he couldn’t complain about his slight headache when Hunter couldn’t open his eyes without agonizing pain, or Wrecker could barely get out of bed because of aching growing pains, or Tech was freaking out because his eyesight was that bad without his goggles.
But, of course, the galaxy liked to prove him wrong.
Because, thanks to a nasty older reg in the mess hall, he was sure his left arm was broken, and it hurt, a lot. He had heard it snap when the reg squeezed and twisted it behind his back, and had barely contained his pained cry when one of the instructors broke up the fight.
Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem— just some bacta and taking it easy for a couple of days— except that similar minor injuries, also broken bones, had already happened twice in the past couple of months. And that couldn’t be normal. And if it wasn’t normal, that meant it was a defect. And if it was a defect the Kaminoans deemed too much, then that could be bad for the whole squad.
And he wasn’t a doctor, but he knew this wasn’t normal. Two months ago, he had broken his foot when doing a tuck-and-roll maneuver during training, when other injured cadets in the same training had, at most, only sprained their ankles. And just a month ago, he had sustained several fractured ribs after a brief fight with some regs, when Hunter had been in the same fight and only been badly bruised in places. Even Tech, who was still developing some of his fighting strength, hadn’t broken a bone during that fight, and the reg had been twisting his arm just as hard as the reg who had taken his arm today had.
Crosshair didn’t like to think about it, but maybe… maybe he was weak, and so defective he would be deemed a failure and decommissioned.
He wasn’t sure what to do with that thought, but he shook his head as he came to their barracks.
He had been in the mess hall alone when this happened, which, really, he shouldn’t have gone to the mess hall alone, but sometimes it happened. But that meant his squad didn’t know what had happened, and he didn’t need to worry them about this. His arm definitely hurt, and was probably swelling a bit, but his sleeve kind of covered the swelling, there were no other signs he had been in any fight, and if he acted normal he could keep this from being a problem.
If it got worse, then maybe he’d go to the medbay. Maybe.
It could probably heal on its own, though.
When he entered, he made sure to lower his arm so he wasn’t holding it so stiffly against him, and tried not to grimace at the action. The room was dark and fairly quiet, other than Wrecker’s snoring from his bunk and some light tapping from Tech’s datapad— he was sitting up in bed, as he liked to. Hunter was also already in bed, his back facing them, and Crosshair guessed it had been a long day.
He walked over to Tech, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention, then nodding to Hunter.
“Overload,” Tech confirmed with a soft whisper, “He fell asleep approximately an hour ago.”
Crosshair frowned and nodded, ready to get ready to sleep himself when Tech spoke again.
“You took approximately 23 minutes longer than normal to get back from your personal training tonight.”
“Okay,” Crosshair shrugged, also speaking in a whisper, “Your point?”
Tech moved his hand up to adjust his goggles. It was a weird habit he seemed to have picked up in the year or so he had been wearing them, “I was simply curious about what may have delayed you.”
“I just wanted to get something to eat,” Crosshair said, then moved away, “And now I’m going to bed.”
Tech seemed to turn back to his datapad, and Crosshair went into the small refresher they had in their room and washed up before heading to his bunk. He made sure to not lie on his left side, and held his arm carefully. It was throbbing quite a bit, but he would hopefully be able to fall asleep soon enough.
He took a breath, pushing away the thoughts from earlier, and closed his eyes.
***
Sleep did not come as easily as Crosshair had hoped.
He felt restless, distracted by the pain in his arm that would not fade, and yet he was unable to adjust his position much without jostling it. An hour or two went by, and he heard Tech set down his datapad and roll over in his bunk, apparently exhausted and going to sleep too. That was when Crosshair really began to feel frustrated, because he knew it was late, and he was tired and wanted to sleep, he just couldn’t.
He also knew, if he didn’t sleep, and the others noticed in the morning, it would become a lot harder to keep hiding this.
Eventually, he decided it was worth the risk of waking the others in order to find some kind of pain reliever in their supplies. They had a few on hand, mostly for headaches, and Crosshair knew he could use that as an excuse if he happened to wake anyone. He quietly got out of bed and went over to the crate by the table where they kept their “personal medical supply” they put stuff they “borrowed” from the medbay.
He opened it as quietly as he could, but it still made a small creaking sound. He froze for a second, but when his brothers’ deep breathing and snoring continued, he kept going. He finished opening the crate, and quickly found a box of the basic pain relievers for headaches— the ones the rest of them used, not Hunter— and took one of the pills. He then put it away and went back to bed.
It didn’t work immediately, and he couldn’t tell how much it worked at all, but he did feel tired enough to fall asleep before long, at last.
***
“Crosshair, time to wake up!”
Crosshair slowly opened his eyes and blinked blearily at Wrecker, who was standing much too close to him and had way too much energy. He put out his right hand and pushed Wrecker back.
“Get out of my face,” he grumbled.
“Aw, don’t be like that!” Wrecker exclaimed, though he did step back. Crosshair slowly sat up in bed, rubbing his face with his good hand and trying to be both cautious and inconspicuous about how he was holding his other arm. Luckily, the others seemed to hardly be paying attention. Tech was now being assaulted by Wrecker’s enthusiastic morning greeting as well, and Hunter, Crosshair guessed, was in the refresher already.
He got out of bed and walked toward the refresher to get it next just as Hunter opened the door and stepped out. His longer-than-regulation hair was already pulled back with the red bandana Crosshair still found somewhat obnoxious, and he looked alright— not like he had a sensory overload yesterday at all. That was good.
“Morning, Cross— I think I fell asleep before you came back last night,” Hunter said, sounding a little sheepish, “Did training go okay?”
“Yeah. The usual.”
“That’s good,” Hunter seemed to do him a once over, and Crosshair worried briefly that his hyper-observant brother would notice something off, but he seemed to pass inspection after a second, “Nala Se might have us do squad training today— I’m not sure though.”
“Like a sim?” Wrecker came practically bounding over, followed by Tech, who had his goggles on and datapad already in hand.
“Maybe. We’ll have to see,” Hunter shrugged, then looked back at Crosshair, “After you and Tech get ready we’ll all go to mess.”
Crosshair nodded and took that as his cue to enter the empty refresher. While their schedules all varied day by day, some things stayed consistent, like going to the mess hall in the morning. They tried to go together when they could, as there was safety in having all four of them there as opposed to one or two.
Upon entering the refresher and cleaning up, he decided he should probably look at his arm. He gingerly pulled back the sleeve a bit, and then grimaced.
His whole forearm was badly swollen and had purple bruising in an ugly pattern. He tried to turn his wrist and bend his arm, and found that while his wrist was manageable, bending his arm was nearly out of the question. Tears came to his eyes when he tried, and a sense of panic settled in his chest briefly. What was he supposed to do if they had battle simulation today?
He took a few calming breaths. He’d manage. He’d been beaten worse and still made it through sims the next day. After he was sure he had control over himself, he exited the refresher and joined the others. Tech used the refresher next, and when he was back they all went to the mess hall.
Surprisingly, it was one of the rare times that, other than a few nasty looks and mean remarks, they were left alone. Crosshair also wasn’t especially in the mood to pick a fight today, with his restless sleep and the pain in his arm back to full force. Tech made up most of the conversation at breakfast, as he usually did.
They walked back together, and Crosshair walked behind the others, not especially interested in hearing Tech’s continued rants about birds off world or Wrecker’s exclamations about what kinds of mock explosions he had done in training the previous day. He was startled a bit when Hunter was suddenly beside him, having fallen back as well.
“You alright?” Hunter asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Crosshair said sharply. Probably a bit too sharply, and Hunter raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know— you’re acting weird.”
“I don’t know what you mean by that— you need to relax.”
Hunter seemed to observe him for a long moment once more, then said, “By how your heart rate’s been, I’d say it’s more likely you need to relax.”
Crosshair glared, “Stop listening to my heart.”
Hunter smirked, “Can’t help it.”
“Whatever. Just leave it.”
Hunter sighed, but he stopped pressing, at least for the time being. They arrived back in their barracks, just in time for Nala Se to come by and give them their directives for the day.
“While you will each do battle simulation training, you will do so separately and with other cadets in other squads. CT-9901 will come with me first, then CT-9902, CT-9903, and CT-9904. While the others are in the simulation, you will conduct your individual training with your personal instructors.”
Crosshair felt himself relax slightly hearing that. Sure, working with regs would definitely suck, but at least he could avoid bringing shame to the rest of them if he messed up, and they wouldn’t be around if he struggled because of his injury.
As long as he could make it through.
***
Individual training was uneventful, just some vision testing and target practice. Crosshair guessed Nala Se had told all the individual trainers to go easy considering they had the simulation thing.
When he was taken to the training simulation room, he quickly knew this wasn’t going to go well. The regs he was working with were not only a year or so older than him, but looked massive compared to his small, lanky body. Crosshair wasn’t one to cower in fear, but he did wish Wrecker were here.
“Aw, man, we got a tiny one,” One of the five complained upon seeing him.
“Has he even done a simulation before?”
“Why is his hair gray?”
“Alright, alright, shut up,” One of them, maybe someone who was in charge or something— it really was hard to tell them apart— spoke up, pushing past them, “The Kaminoans said you each have a specialty– what’s yours?”
“I’m being trained as a sniper,” Crosshair said shortly.
“How far can you hit a shot?” One of them asked.
“Far enough- definitely across this arena."
“Huh. We'll see about that."
They began discussing some battle strategy among themselves, and Crosshair just waited for them to give him orders. He now wished he was just with his own squad-- he didn’t know why the Kaminoans were splitting them up.
“Alright, Gray,” One of them turned back to him, “The Kaminoans are apparently testing both you and us on how we work together, so just listen to what we say and you’ll be fine. This is an eliminate all droids simulation, so just find a spot and provide cover fire and take out as many as you can.”
Crosshair nodded, and they all picked up equipment and entered the training room.
At first, everything went smoothly. His arm hurt a bit to steady the gun with, but he was still accurate enough to get in plenty of good shots and they made steady progress.
And then a reg decided he was doing a bit too well.
“Gray, snipers don’t fight on the ground— go climb that tower over there,” the reg ordered.
Crosshair looked at where he was pointing. There was a tower, but it was bigger than the ones he had used with his batch in simulations before. He could climb, but he didn’t really want to try that in this environment, with unfamiliar clones, and he was fine where he was.
“I think I’ll stay here,” he told the reg, which was apparently the wrong answer.
“What did we tell you? You follow our lead. Get going.”
Crosshair hesitated once more, and then the reg simply shoved him out of cover. He landed on his hands and knees, dropping his blaster, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out as absolute agony laced through his arm. The blaster fire continued, though, and he forced himself to get up, grab his gun, and sprint towards the tower.
Maybe the simulation would end before he had to climb. He could hide out here and—
“Up you go,” Another reg had been waiting by the tower and grabbed him by the back of his training armor. Somehow, the reg had enough strength to toss him several feet, and Crosshair reached out quickly to grasp a small part of the tower that stuck out about halfway up. His injured arm screamed at the movement and use, and tears burned in his eyes as he struggled to find somewhere to put his feet. He heard the mocking shouts and laughter of the older regs elsewhere on the training grounds.
His injured arm let go, becoming too much to keep trying to use, and while he briefly found a small indentation in the tower to put his feet, he was still in danger of falling, holding onto a tiny ledge jutting out of the tower and unable to move. His arm was on fire. He hated the regs. He just wanted his brothers.
The sound of the simulation ending echoed through the room a minute or two later, and then Crosshair felt a sharp pain in his leg. It felt like a stun bolt, from one of their blasters, and the regs continued to laugh as his lower leg went numb.
Rage began to replace his fear and embarrassment, and he found a way to drop down a few feet down the tower. He wasn’t scared anymore, he just wanted to hit one of them.
But then he lost his grip and fell the rest of the way, and heard a little snap in his ankle as he fell awkwardly, despite being only a few feet off the ground. It was in the leg going numb, though, and he ignored it and grabbed the training rifle and started shooting at them. They looked at him, startled, and began to tell him to stop, but within two seconds he had shot them each in the chest, leaving their entire bodies temporarily paralyzed and them on the ground, helpless until the clean up crew came.
“Bye,” he snapped, beginning to walk away. He could get back to the barracks before they even were on their feet again.
“You missed one.”
Crosshair turned and realized he had forgotten about the fifth clone, who had come from the other side of the training grounds and witnessed what happened. He raised his blaster to shoot him too, but the clone was too close and lunged forward, shoving the gun out of Crosshair’s grasp and then pushing him harshly to the floor.
“You think you’re so special? So high and mighty?”
Crosshair tried to move back and away, but the clone was quicker and not on the ground, and he grabbed Crosshair by his chest plate and then yanked off the too-big training helmet, “You chose the wrong group to disobey.”
A harsh blow to his stomach that left him keeling over.
A blow to his face that left him tasting blood in his mouth and seeing stars.
Twisting of his already injured arm that left him near to passing out.
Crosshair was helpless to fight back much against this older clone who was bigger, and stronger, and had him pinned, so the beating continued until the clone had had enough and then essentially shoved him to the ground and told him to get out of there before the clean up crew arrived.
Crosshair couldn’t object to that, even if he couldn’t really see straight. He didn’t need the medbay. He just needed to get out of here.
***
Crosshair didn’t know how he could keep hiding this.
As he limped down the halls— his leg numb from the stun bolt and pretty useless— he couldn’t help but clutch his arm to his chest in an attempt to stop its endless throbbing. He knew it was bad, but he couldn’t look at it. He also knew, by how that fight had gone, he probably had other broken bones as well.
He really was weak. A failure.
He probably deserved to be decommissioned.
He couldn’t even take a punch from a cadet or stumble a little without breaking something.
He knew his face looked pretty awful too, if the blood dripping down his chin was any indicator, so it wasn’t like he could hide this from Hunter. Maybe he could convince them to not take him to the medbay though— that way no unnecessary attention would be drawn, and there wouldn’t be additional testing, and he could delay this a bit longer.
“Crosshair?”
Crosshair looked up and saw Hunter coming from around the corner. His expression all worried and alarmed. He had probably smelled his blood from two corridors down or something, with how he was.
“What happened?” Hunter asked, stopping just before reaching him and seeming to try to take stock of his injuries.
Crosshair tried to find his voice, but as soon as he was about to speak, he heard the clones from the simulation coming from behind him. They must have been dismissed and were walking the same way. He felt his heart rate begin to increase as he turned to look, even though he didn’t want to be afraid of these jerks and bullies at all, and then one of them met his eyes.
“Oh, there he is,” he jeered.
“And who’s this? Another pipsqueak friend?”
Crosshair’s heart was beating so loudly he couldn’t think straight. Now these guys would finish off him, and hurt his older brother too. And he was helpless– absolutely helpless. His mouth wouldn’t work to snap anything back at their mocking.
And then Hunter gently took his shoulders and pulled him back, even though his own feet had frozen in place, and stepped in front of him— between the regs and him.
“Leave him alone,” Hunter said in a hard tone.
“Aw, or what, you’ll bite me?”
“Maybe,” Hunter said, and Crosshair knew he’d see a defiant smirk on his brother’s face if he was facing him, “And you have no idea what my enhancements are, so do you really want to risk it?”
There were a few beats of silence, and then one of the regs looked at Crosshair, “You’re really a weakling— hiding behind him like that.”
Crosshair looked away and stepped back, but Hunter stepped back with him and took his right hand, though he still faced the regs, in a silent communication of: stay, it’s alright.
“Don’t you ever call my brother weak,” Hunter pretty much snarled in an angry, biting tone, “You have no idea what he does every day for training— stuff you’d probably break down and cry about after an hour— so shut your mouth and walk away or I will come over there and bite you.”
The regs seemed to consider for a second, then came to an agreement to just leave it be before muttering a weak threat of ‘this isn’t over’ as they moved past them. Hunter turned with them, remaining as a protective shield in front of Crosshair until they turned the corner and he was sure they were gone.
Crosshair’s heartbeat still felt crazy fast, and he felt a bit lightheaded, even as the regs left, and he realized he was shaking.
“Crosshair, hey— it’s fine— they’re gone,” Hunter was looking at him now, brow creased in concern and putting a hand gently on his shoulder.
Crosshair pulled back, hitting the wall, and letting his legs give out so he could slide to the floor. He really was weak, relying on Hunter like that to defend him, and now he couldn’t even calm down. His whole body hurt, and his throat felt tight, and his vision was becoming blurry.
“Cross—”
“Sorry,” he choked out, “I’m sorry.”
Hunter was on his knees on the floor with him now. He cocked his head, “For what?”
Crosshair didn’t want to say any of it, and tears began to just flow freely as he ended up settling for just an exhausted, tired, “Hunter.” It sounded pathetic, but in that moment, he just really wanted—
“I’m here,” Hunter gently put his arms around him, being cautious of his injuries. Crosshair gripped his brother’s shirt with his good hand and let himself cry. He was being a baby, probably, but he was so tired, and everything hurt so much.
“We need to take you to the medbay,” Hunter said quietly after a few minutes.
“N-no,” Crosshair said quietly but firmly against him, stiffening. Hunter sighed.
“Okay, for now, but let’s go back to the barracks at least.”
Crosshair found that he was okay with that, and drew back from his older brother as Hunter stood up and tried to help him to his feet, only for Crosshair’s leg to give out with a sharp pain. He guessed the numbing from the blaster bolt had worn off, and now the injury was making itself known.
“Hm… wanna ride?” Hunter asked, and before Crosshair could answer, he was turning his back for him and crouching down. Crosshair found he didn’t mind this idea, and got on Hunter’s back, using his good arm to hold onto Hunter’s front while Hunter gripped his legs and lifted him up with a slight grunt.
“I can walk, too…” Crosshair started as Hunter began to move forward.
“Nope. And this is too easy— you're still a little thing.”
“Shut up,” Crosshair said, even as he rested his head on his older brother’s shoulder.
***
“This is very odd,” Tech stated with a frown, having completed the medscan with the scanner they had “borrowed” from the medbay one time. Crosshair sighed and pulled his knees to his chest protectively. He was sitting on his own bunk. Hunter had taken him back to the barracks, as requested, but of course it was obvious he had been injured and Hunter had said Tech would take a look before they did anything else.
“What is?” Wrecker asked from his spot sitting on the table in the center of the room.
“First of all, you have numerous fractures that must be treated. One in your right foot, two in your ribs, and then your arm. But your arm seems especially bad, as if it was aggravated from an injury that didn’t happen today.”
“Cross,” Hunter looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow, “When did you hurt your arm?”
Crosshair shrugged, “Why does it matter?”
Hunter looked ready to snap something angry back, but Tech spoke first, adjusting his goggles, “Because hiding injury is not a good habit to form, and it is best we learn of these things as soon as possible so things do not get worse—”
“Shut up,” Crosshair said with an eye roll, “I get it. I hurt it yesterday, but it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Hunter shook his head, “You’ve never had an issue with treating injuries before— why now?”
Crosshair looked at them all, chewing on his lip a bit, and then ducked his head. He didn’t know how to explain this to them, and he didn’t really want to. He just wanted to feel better and this to not be a problem. He felt weak and helpless, and he hated feeling like that. So much.
“If this is because of your recent pattern of injuries, you need not be concerned.”
Crosshair looked up sharply at Tech’s words, “What?”
“You’ve fractured bones twice in the past couple of months,” Tech continued calmly, “Am I correct in assuming you are beginning to see a pattern and feeling anxious about it?”
Crosshair looked at Tech for a second, thinking about how freakishly observant he was too, and gave a small nod.
“Well, you are right,” Tech said, “It is not normal to break bones this easily, but it is not something severe either. I’m guessing you have the most common type of osteogenesis imperfecta.”
“What the heck is that?” Wrecker asked. Crosshair had been about to ask the same thing.
“It is an inherited or genetic disorder that, to put it simply, leads to weaker and easily broken bones,” Tech explained, “But from what I’ve observed, Crosshair likely has the most common and least severe type— type 1— which means that other than easily broken bones, he will be fine. In fact, it is likely that once he is fully grown, his bones will become stronger and even that will become less of a problem.”
“How long have you known about this?” Hunter asked Tech with a frown.
“I began to suspect it after his last incident, as he seemed to be the only one who was frequently getting fractures. I did not think it was especially serious or pertinent to mention, so I have not,” Tech turned to Crosshair, “Though perhaps I should have.”
Crosshair looked away. He felt a little embarrassed now, if Tech already knew about his situation, but it still didn’t ease his concerns completely.
“Do the Kaminoans know?” He found himself asking.
“No. In their records of us, they do not,” Tech said, “And it is unlikely they will find out, as we are prone to fighting with regs and getting injured anyway.”
“So… i-it’s okay?” He looked up, and inwardly grimaced at how his voice shook, but his brothers all seemed to just soften more.
“Yes,” Tech said, his voice a bit quieter as he looked away, ducking his head a bit, “It is fine.”
“B-but…” I’m weak Crosshair found himself trying and wanting to say, but before he could force himself to say the words, Wrecker had gotten up and sat down beside him on the bed.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Crosshair. We’ve all got weird problems. Now we all match.”
“I don’t think—” He was cut off by Wrecker ruffling his hair and pulling him into a side embrace that was surprisingly firm but didn’t hurt too much either.
“Gentle, Wrecker,” Hunter chided, but he was smiling a bit too.
Crosshair sighed against Wrecker, but he wasn’t annoyed. Wrecker always felt warm and safe, and strong. He found himself feeling tired, with his emotional turmoil and the long day, and vaguely heard Tech saying something about taking him to the medbay, and then being lifted by Wrecker, and then he drifted off to sleep.
***
Crosshair was only half awake while he was treated in the medbay. The exhaustion from the past couple of days had caught up to him, and as soon as he was given pain relievers and bacta for his injuries it was like he could finally rest. As soon as the med droids finished, he was out.
When he came to again, he was aware he wasn’t alone in the bed at all. Wrecker was on his right, an arm around him and also holding Tech practically on top of himself to keep him in the bed. Hunter was on his left, tucked into the perfect position that wasn’t in the way of his injured arm and still in close contact with Crosshair. They were all asleep, and Crosshair couldn’t guess what time it was, but then Hunter stirred. He had probably heard Crosshair’s change in breathing.
“Hey, you okay?” Hunter was asking in a soft tone, though neither of them moved.
“Yeah.”
“Please don’t do that again,” Hunter added after a moment, “The hiding an injury thing.”
Crosshair sighed, “Okay.”
“You’re not weaker for it. I meant what I told the regs in the hallway.”
Crosshair didn’t know what to say to that, but another kind of relief came over him, washing the last of his worries about this whole situation away.
“Okay,” he repeated, not trusting his tight voice to say anything else.
“Aw, are you about to cry?”
“N-no.”
“Mm, sure,” Hunter shifted and sat up, meeting Crosshair’s eyes, “They look glassy to me.”
“It’s the meds.”
“Liar,” Hunter said with a grin.
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re my little brother,” Hunter said, as if that was the only excuse he needed. Crosshair rolled his eyes, and Hunter laid back down beside him.
“I can’t wait for us to leave this place,” Hunter said after a long moment, “Obviously we’ll be soldiers when that happens, but…”
“Yeah,” Crosshair agreed quietly. Hunter didn’t need to continue, because Crosshair knew exactly what he was feeling and thinking. When they left Kamino, that meant no more testing, no more endless simulations, no more experimentation. It would mean they had done it— they had survived. And none of them would have to worry about their defects in the same way, because they could handle it themselves. And Tech would get to see so many of the creatures he had researched. And Wrecker would actually get to blow things up- just for fun- and enjoy it. And Hunter would get to experience what nature really felt like with his senses.
And Crosshair… well, he didn’t know if he had a dream for getting off Kamino, other than the torture ending.
But he’d get to see it all.
“You should get some more rest,” Hunter said from beside him, interrupting his thoughts.
Crosshair nodded, but he shifted his injured arm— now in a cast— a bit in a silent gesture. Hunter let out a brief breath of a laugh, but reached over and took his hand.
“This okay?”
“Yeah,” Crosshair sighed, closing his eyes, trusting he didn’t have to worry anymore.
He might not be as strong as he could be, but he was strong enough with them.