Sir Howzer, The Haunted.

is is wednesday yet?

@techwrecker I don't know what exactly you wanted, but I did this. When you said about Milo and Tech, that's just the first image that popped into my mind. Atlantis x tbb: 1 2 3 4

Then & Now

Read here on Ao3!

ANGST-PRIL 2024 | DAY 3 | PROMPT 3: BROKEN HEARTED 

RATED: T | WORDS: 1109 | SUMMARY: Crosshair tells Omega about Mayday. | CHARACTER FOCUS: Crosshair, Omega

“What happened?” Omega asks. 

Crosshair doesn’t move, doesn’t shift his gaze to the child sitting behind the grate of his cell door. He keeps his focus on the ceiling above him, where the light has a barely discernible flicker. “What do you mean, what happened?” he asks, hoping that the venom in his tone will make her recant the question. 

But he isn’t surprised when she only clarifies, “Why did you turn against the Empire?” 

Omega has been nothing if not persistent these past few weeks, regularly sneaking her way down to talk to him. She does most of the talking, while he pretends he’s not listening, and wonders if she will take the hint and stay away.

To his frustration, Omega takes the hint and blatantly ignores it. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Crosshair growls.

Omega shifts so that she is kneeling in front of the door, facing him full on. “It must’ve been something terrible. You seemed so sure on Kamino.” 

They let him die. The unspoken words taste bitter, so he verbalizes something less distasteful. “It pains me to say that Hunter was right. We are nothing but a number to them. Disposable. You’ve seen the labs here.”

The kid frowns. “Realizing Hunter was right doesn’t put you in a cell,” she observes. 

“I already told you, it doesn’t matter,” Crosshair tells her. 

“It matters to me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you’re my brother,” Omega states. “What happens to you – what happened to you – matters.”

An infinite number of retorts line up Crosshair’s throat. Awful, horrid things that he is sure will finally drive Omega away, make her hate him the way he deserves. Keep her safe the way she deserves. Safe from him. Safe from attachment and familial duty. 

But not a single one of them comes out. 

“His name was Mayday.” 

Omega is quiet for a moment. “What happened to him?” 

“He died.” 

Another meaningful pause. “The Empire killed him?” 

“They couldn’t waste precious medical supplies on a disposable meat droid,” Crosshair snaps. Blistering rage burns glacial in his veins. “So I killed the officer who stood by and watched him die.” Crosshair turns his head to look at Omega, who stares back with wide eyes. “That’s what happened. That’s why I’m here.” 

He hates the sympathy that washes over Omega’s transparent expression. He does not want her pity or her love. He wants her to leave him alone. 

Funny, isn’t it? How these clones around you keep disappearing?

“Go,” Crosshair says, turning away. “I don’t want you to come back.” 

He can feel Omega watching him, hear that she hasn’t moved away. Finally, she sighs, a long-suffering exhale that sounds too much like Hunter. “I know you think you’re protecting me, but I will come back, Crosshair. I won’t let you be alone again.” 

Crosshair waits until he knows she’s gone before he releases a shaky breath. He rubs harshly at his eyes. He hasn’t cried for Mayday. He won’t cry now. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

They’ve been in hyperspace for a couple hours now. 

Crosshair sits on the floor of the main hold, Batcher’s head in his lap while he strokes the hound’s smooth, leathery skin. He listens to the rumble of his brothers’ voices in the cockpit, Omega’s melodic voice occasionally chiming in. He imagines this is what it was like before, when the Batch first got Omega. In all the time he has known her, even before he liked or cared or… loved her, Omega has always had something to say, something to contribute. He remembers it annoyed him, but the emotion attached to the memory feels foreign and ugly. He hates that it used to be that way, but he cannot deny that it was. 

It was the chip, he reminds himself. After that, his own stubbornness butting up against Omega’s persistence. Regret constricts around the muscle in his chest, memories of the cruel and harsh words he’d used on Tantiss to push Omega away. He can’t remember exactly when he’d given up the effort, resigning to be talked at relentlessly until it became something he ached for. When she’d go days without coming to his cell, he began to worry for her, straining to hear the light tread of her footsteps. 

Those familiar light steps approach him now, but Crosshair doesn’t look up at his sister when she stops in front of him. 

“You look comfy,” Omega says. 

“Yeah, the floor of a ship is luxurious,” Crosshair retorts. 

“I was talking to Batcher,” Omega responds, deadpan. 

Crosshair rolls his eyes, but smirks in spite of himself. 

Omega moves to slide down next to him. “You’ve been quiet since we left the base.” 

“Unlike some people, I don’t feel the need to talk constantly.”

“Fine. You’ve been quieter than usual. Happy?” 

“Ecstatic.” 

Omega turns so that she’s leaning her back against his arm, head tipped against his shoulder. “Is that where you met Mayday?” 

Crosshair stiffens, his hand freezing in place on Batcher’s head. He swallows. He could try to lie, or at the very least, brush the question off. Seconds of indecision tick by, Omega patiently waiting Crosshair out. She’ll know if he lies. 

“Yes,” Crosshair mutters at last. 

Omega hums. “I saw the helmets. Hunter said he saw you picking them up.” 

When did he tell you that? Crosshair wants to demand, but the question catches in his throat, giving Omega time to continue uninterrupted. 

“I’m sorry for what happened there,” she says, softly. “It must have been hard to go back.” 

Crosshair shrugs, purposely jostling Omega’s head resting against him, making her huff. “It is what it is,” he tells her. 

“Tell me about him?” The question is gently put, a small voice guarded for rejection. 

Crosshair sighs. “There’s not much to tell. I didn’t know him for long.” 

“Long enough to care about him,” Omega says. 

“Hmmm,” Crosshair concedes. He hesitates a moment before saying, “I guess he reminded me of our brothers...”

Omega nods, head bumping against his arm. 

“There was an avalanche,” Crosshair continues, voice low, throat tight. “We were both injured, but Mayday had the worst of it. He…” Crosshair swallows. “He wanted me to leave him behind, said he wouldn’t make it. He was right, in the end, but I tried anyway. We got to the base, but they wouldn’t help him.”  

Omega reaches back, her fingers finding his hand and wrapping around it. Her grip tightens. He squeezes back. 

“I wish I could have met him,” Omega whispers, and Crosshair knows she means it. 

Blinking back the burning sensation that suddenly impairs his vision, Crosshair mutters, “Me too.”

He hasn’t cried for Mayday. 

He won’t cry now. 

END

Wow! Already to day 3 of Angst-pril, and my time has come to join the collaboration alongside @the-little-moment & @just-here-with-my-thoughts!

(If you haven't already, you NEED to go read their stories for the prompts Homesick and Frozen!!!)

My next prompt is: "This isn't going to work."

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @groguandthebadbatch @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb

I was watching calisthenic tutorials but got distracted and it ended up anatomy practice e_e

And I made it Tech 'cause idk, enjoy

"close is not good enough for a sniper"

Just snipers having an overnight hangout with their onesies and some holo-simulators

That's what happens when you give two besties an opportunity to make their own RP with their own rules

Being defective is in my nature.

Crosshair in The Bad Batch 3 x 06 "Infiltration"

"close is not good enough for a sniper"

CROSSHAIR ↹ "Infiltration" & "Extraction"

rest in peace greer, samson, fireball, and nemec