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My hand on your shoulder
They say, he is but the cold one of them all. A cold warrior in space, a trooper without care for all those closest to him stay.
Alas how wrong those sayers would be, as Crosshair, really does care.
Perhaps, even a touch too much?
But one would have to get on Crosshair’s good side for him to do so, to care about the one. And that, might just be really hard or rather easy, all depending on what this particular person really was about.
For Echo, it was easy as pie, a cake walk if you will. The ARC having been rescued from a deep stated enemy freezer only moments ago only to be showing off his total badassery and sass for the sniper of the elite group of clones.
Running amok while half naked then only to be forming escape plans and moments later to be jumping off of the rather narrow boardwalk and right onto a flying bestie at a moments notice!
Then sometime later, only to be shooting at clankers and hitting them as well with the one hand only in use! It had been as if the blaster was glued to his fist and down went those flying bitches!
Crosshair, could not have been more in awe. And so, with his hand placed gently on the shoulder of this new found friend and ally, later an invitation to the team, the two certainly forming a lasting albeit unspoken bond right then and there.
With Hunter, it was as natural as the gloves or the punch riffle in Crosshair’s hands.
The two having grown up together, then, later forming this band of wayward and enhanced clones, the Bad Batch as it was to be called and the two, well, might have fought and a lot too, and yet, it was never really out of malice.
They were friends, to the core. Always had been since, well, first breath of their lungs really.
Partners in war and later in crime, the two having been inseparable since the beginning of their time, since them both having been decanted.
A calming hand on the shoulder for the leader of the team gently placed whenever or wherever there was the need. Crosshair always a hovering and calming present in the quietness, in the wordless keep.
But then something broke and Crosshair was off, off on his very own, denying all them already formed bonds.
Thankfully though, the wayward sniper to be returning after his, little excursion.
All the misplaced things finally being set in order, trust found between them. And after a short while, the hand of comfort returning to its place, whenever there was a need for it, as there usually was one during these, hardship filled days.
The sniper always comforting the others, all of his brothers and sisters ever since his return with moves perhaps small but always and ever present those would be.
Alas usually though, it was Echo or Hunter, who felt the bulk of those touches coming through loud and clear from the supposedly cold and now former sniper
Echo and Hunter perhaps understanding Crosshair better than the rest.