#going back

You sit there thinking quietly for a while before you’re startled out of your thoughts by Crosshair hoarsely calling your name. You immediately get to your feet and rush back to his side.

“Yes, I’m here, tell me what you need,” you say, kneeling down and holding his hand. He’s still cold, but not as desperately cold as he was an hour ago. He coughs and tries to sit up, flinching at the needle in his arm.

“I smell like shit. And don’t pretend that you can’t tell,” he says. You crinkle your nose at him and nod, and he makes an odd cough-chuckling sound. You move your other hand through his hair, which has grown back out, and it comes away oily.

“Yeah, you need a shower. We should have enough water,” you say. “I’ll take this out, for now,” you continue, indicating his IV line.

You grab a few things from the med kit you set nearby earlier, and have him hold a wad of cotton to the stick-site as you gently slide the needle out and properly dispose of it. You use a waterproof wrap to bandage up his arm, then sit back on your heels and watch as Crosshair bends his elbow a few times. You stand and use the med kit’s thermometer to check if he’s still dangerously hypothermic. He’s only one degree away from baseline, which is a relief. You put everything away and keep talking.

“I’ll have to stick you again later on, as you’re still badly dehydrated, but you’ve warmed up a good bit” you say, and he nods at you as he swings his legs out of your bunk, inadvertently kicking the pile of covers onto the floor. You take a step towards him, intending to take his hands so you can help him stand and walk, but he waves you away.

“Stop that, I’m not completely helpless,” he says, huffing at you again. He manages to stand on his own, but it takes a fair amount of effort, and when he tries to take a step forward, his knees buckle. Thankfully you’re close enough to catch him before he falls. You hold back a smile and softly shake your head at him before he sighs heavily, leaning his weight against you.

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

“I didn’t say a word,” you say, pulling one of his arms over your shoulders and holding his wrist.

“You didn’t need to, I know that look,” he says as you wrap your other arm around his waist and pull him closer.

“What look?” you ask innocently, starting to walk towards the refresher, half-carrying Crosshair with you. This time you can’t stop the smile.

“That one!” he says, taking his turn to shake his head. You hum a little and press your temple against his as the refresher door slides open. When you both step inside, the single light in the ceiling comes on, and you can see how his eyes have closed and his face has relaxed at this simple gesture.

Maker, you’ve missed him.

—

You wind up getting into the shower with him after he nearly collapses again. It’s cramped, but you’re able to gently push him into a sitting position and kneel behind him. The water is warm, not hot, as you don’t want to shock his system too far in the other direction. You shampoo his hair twice, taking a little time to massage his scalp while avoiding his scar. The relaxed hums you hear from him do your heart some good as you work.

Next, you soap up your hands and glide them around Crosshair’s back and shoulders, pausing to work out the many knots of tension in his muscles. With a soft grunt, he turns around and you move your hands to his chest. You feel his heartbeat under your fingertips, confirming that he’s here, safe and alive. Under the harsh light in the refresher, you get a better sense of just how bad of a shape he’s in. He was already lean to begin with, but the dramatic weight loss has left him too thin, almost bony in places.

Your eyes meet his and a wave of guilt washes over you again. You must be wearing it on your face, because before you can open your mouth to apologize, he shakes his head at you.

“Don’t,” he says. “Not right now.”

Crosshair’s hands drop to your hips and he subtly pulls you closer, whispering your name. Your lips part, and the air surrounding you both feels warmer, despite the shower cooling down. He leans in closer to you, but hesitates. You cup his cheek and run your thumb across his badly chapped lips, then catch him off guard by rolling your eyes, leaning in, and kissing him. The feeling is far from pleasant, but you don’t give a single shit.

After a muffled sound of surprise, he relaxes and opens up for you. His breath is horrendous, but you stubbornly ignore it, deepening the kiss and slipping your hands to his shoulders. You press yourself against him and he softly groans.

You slowly slide a hand down his chest and abdomen, watching his eyes and giving him plenty of time to stop you. Crosshair’s breath hitches as you trace your thumb over the base of his half-hard cock, and when you pause to check on him, he nods at you, something close to desperation in his eyes.

You realize that you can take care of two things at once and soap up your hands again before gently but firmly gripping his shaft. You clean him with one hand and cup his balls with the other. You give them a barely-there tug, and he moans your name, his cock growing completely stiff under your hands. Taking advantage of how the soap slicks him up, you shift your attention to jerking him off. Not wanting to overwhelm him, you move in steady, even strokes, and before long he’s panting in your ear.

Crosshair grabs at your hips again, and you know what he wants. You unhand him just long enough to position yourself before him, and he spreads his legs for you. You scoot forward enough that your groin is pressed tightly against his, and you fit perfectly into place against his twitching cock. You wrap your legs around his hips and grind yourself against him, making him curse under his breath.

You hold the back of his head with one hand, grip his shoulder with the other, and pull him in for a deep, soulful kiss. As this happens, you grind against him harder and he groans into your mouth. After about a minute of this, you slip a hand down between your bodies, take hold of his cock, and jerk him off again, moving faster as his breaths get heavier against your skin.

“Ah, f-fuck, I’m-,” he starts, but interrupts himself with a gasp, his hips jerking forward of their own accord as his cock twitches and he comes with a shudder, his release dribbling thickly down your wrist.

You take a moment to rinse it and any remaining soap away before reaching up and shutting off the shower. Then you pull Crosshair, trembling slightly, into your arms. He slouches and rests his forehead against your chest, trying to catch his breath, while you run your hand up and down his back in a soothing motion.

“Just breathe, Crosshair. I’ve got you.”

—

“You can’t be serious.”

Crosshair glances between your hand, holding out Wrecker’s shirt, and your face, his expression somewhere between annoyed and incredulous.

“It’s all I could find,” you say apologetically, and he huffs, but grabs the shirt from you before pulling it on.

It’s huge on him, of course. The neck is wide enough that his collarbone peeks out, the bottom hangs past his hips, and the sleeves are so long they hide his hands.

“I look ridiculous,” he grumbles, crossing his arms, and he resembles a pouting child so much that you can’t help but laugh a little.

“Aw, you’ll grow into it eventually, cadet,” you say with a smirk.

“Oh fuck you,” he says, flopping heavily onto your bunk.

“Maybe once you’ve had some rest,” you say, laughing again when he flaps a sleeve at you, unamused. You aren’t sure if the growling sound you hear comes from his mouth or his stomach, but either way, it reminds you of the ration bars you found on the way to Kamino.

“Think you can eat something?” you ask, retrieving them before sitting on the edge of your bunk. At this, Crosshair sits up and tries to take one from you, but you stop him. You unwrap a bar and break off about a quarter of it before handing it to him. He wolfs it down at a speed that would put Wrecker to shame.

“Not so fast, we don’t want you to throw it back up,” you say, then hand him another quarter. He takes his time to properly chew it, and makes a sound of disgust once he’s swallowed it.

“Shit, how old is that?” he says, though he still holds his hand out for more.

“Sorry, it’s fairly out of date. I was in such a rush to get to you that I didn’t think to grab anything else,” you say, handing him the rest. “Looks like it isn’t too bad though,” you say, watching him eat.

“It’s better than raw fish,” he says, pausing to swallow with a grimace. “But not by a lot.”

“Well, it’s all I’ve got, but I’ll be able to get you properly fed once we get back.”

“How much longer will that take?”

“Shouldn’t be more than a few hours. Oh! I should open the comm channels up and let them know we’re nearly there.”

With that, you get to your feet and move into the cockpit. Crosshair watches you go without really paying attention, lying back down on his side. He’s on the verge of sleep when the sudden, shrill sound of the ship being hailed rudely yanks him back into awareness.

He groans, then decides to move so that he can more clearly hear whatever his brothers have to say. He pulls himself to his feet and shakily makes his way through the ship, stopping just outside of the cockpit doorway.

Inside, the ship's holo-comm activates, and you find that it’s Tech. He looks relieved for a moment before worry clouds his face and he speaks.

“Finally, we have been trying to get ahold of you since you left,” he says.

“What for? We’re nearly there now,” you say, confused.

“No, you’re not,” Tech says, his expression and voice severe. Crosshair, recognizing this, moves closer, taking a few steps into the cockpit. You’re too distracted by the feeling of your stomach dropping to notice this.

“The nav system-,” you start, quickly glancing at one of the many screens in a nearby console.

“Is incorrect; it cannot properly function when the hyperdrive is broken.”

“Broken?” you repeat, the sensation in your gut changing to a heavy, sinking feeling.

“I tried to warn you before you left the atmosphere, the hyperdrive has become too unstable to safely use.”

“But I got in and out on the way to Kamino just fine,” you say, your confusion starting to morph into panic. Echo steps into view.

“You haven’t noticed anything off?” he asks, and you curse under your breath. You take a minute to describe the unfamiliar screeching sound you had heard when activating the drive earlier.

“I was afraid of that,” he says, seeming to talk to himself more than you.

“I’m in hyperspace now, but can’t I just shut the drive off?” you ask. Tech returns to the forefront.

“Do not do that!” he says, and the uncharacteristic sound of anxiety in his voice prompts Crosshair to move closer again. He stops next to you and comes into view on the other side of the call, then you both hear Omega in the background.

“Crosshair! Hunter, they got to him!” she says, but nobody reacts to her, as Tech continues to speak.

“If you shut it down in this state, you could crash into something at hyper speed or wind up in wild space, if it doesn’t fail catastrophically and blow the ship apart. Unless the two of you can fix the drive-,” he says

“I’ll die here instead,” Crosshair mumbles, interrupting. Though his voice is low, you can still clearly hear him, and your near-panic is abruptly forgotten. Tech sees the change in your expression and hastily tells you to call him back before the comm breaks up into static and disconnects. You turn on your heel to face Crosshair, seething.

“So I should have just left you there, is that what you’re telling me?” you say, standing a breath away from his face.

“At least out there someone could still get to me!” Crosshair shouts, though hoarsely. “And you didn’t have a problem leaving me before!”

“If you weren’t so damn proud none of this would be happening. You didn’t have to stay behind!” you shout back, frustrated.

“Fuck you, you still left me there,” he says, and as he turns away, you grab his shoulder. Your grip is firm, but your tone has softened significantly.

“Crosshair, please,” you sigh, suddenly exhausted, and though he barely heard you, he freezes. “The moment this ship was in the air, I regretted it; all I could think about was going back for you. I fucking begged Hunter every day, but he refused every single time,” you continue. Crosshair steps back from you and sits heavily into one of the cockpit seats. You can tell he’s still angry, but it seems like he’s willing to hear you out.

“He changed his mind?” he says, sounding skeptical.

“No, he didn’t,” you say, sitting on the edge of the seat directly across from him. “I had enough and finally left on my own,” you say, your voice still soft.

“Well that was reckless,” he says bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Anything could have been waiting for you out here; the Empire knows this ship and its signature.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You briefly describe how you were avoiding everyone, how angry you had been, how you cracked just enough to tell Wrecker why. Crosshair doesn’t say anything, but his posture has relaxed enough for you to notice.

“Omega talked to me later about it. She suggested I come alone,” you say. Crosshair raises an eyebrow at you.

“You didn’t think of that before?” he says bitterly.

“Of course I did!” you snap, then stop and take another deep, calming breath. When you speak, your voice is low again. “I thought about it, about you, constantly. I know how the nav system and everything else works, and I can fly the ship just fine, but I didn’t know how to mask its signal. I told Omega that and apparently she’s seen Tech and Echo do it often enough to learn how.”

“So she told you, and you stole the ship,” Crosshair says.

“Hunter found out as I was leaving the atmosphere. He called and tried to talk me out of it. Said I could be playing right into the Empire's hands,” you say, noticing a faint smirk on Crosshairs face that vanishes just as quickly as it appeared.

“But I didn’t care. We got into a screaming match over it. Tech interrupted, but I was so pissed off I shut down all of the comm channels and made the jump,” you say.

Crosshair, his arms now resting at his sides as he leans forward, studies you for a moment before he huffs again and stands. He starts to pace, albeit unsteadily, around the small space and speaks again.

“I don’t know how you managed to make it to Kamino at all, you’re damn lucky you didn’t get trapped like this on the way. You could’ve died out here, completely alone, and they’d never know, I’d never know what happened to you,” he says. You sit quietly and allow him to rant. When he pauses for breath, you can’t help but chuckle softly at him. He comes to a stop in front of you and stares you down, asking what the hell is so funny.

“You’ll still care if something happens to me,” you say, getting to your feet and watching him. He blusters for a moment, and you can see a faint flush cross his face.

“That's not the point!” he says, abruptly turning away again. “Why would you do something so-,” he says, but you interrupt him.

“Stupid?” you say. “Well, I guess love makes people do stupid things,” you continue, and watch as Crosshair freezes completely.

“You’re lying,” he says, unable to look at you. “Maybe you did before I… but you don’t, you can’t, not now.”

A spark of indignation grows in your chest, and you speak without thinking.

“Do you really think I would have risked capture or worse if I didn’t? What do I have to gain from coming all this way, in a ship with a hyperdrive that might kill me, taking you back and taking care of you, just to lie? Especially about this?” you say, raising your voice just enough to be noticeable. You take a few steps and stop in front of him.

“It’s not worth the risk just to make you feel like shit,” you continue, your voice leveling back out. “You’ve been doing a good enough job of that on your own. Just because you hate yourself does not mean that I do too.”

Crosshair shakes his head and steps backwards away from you, scrunching his face and closing his eyes.

“So you- despite what- what I-,” he says, his speech fragmented. He pauses, collecting himself. “You- you came back for me,” he says in a whisper, finally opening his eyes and meeting your gaze. You move closer to him again, then reach up and gently hold your hand to the unburnt side of his head.

“Because I love you,” you say, looking into his amber eyes.

He stares at you in disbelief for a moment, then his face scrunches up again and he weakly wraps his arms around you. When the weight of everything finally hits him, his legs shake and his knees buckle. You catch him, steadying yourself enough to carefully move the both of you onto the floor against a wall. You settle into a seated position. Crosshair, his weakness catching up to him, drops into your lap. He hides his face where your neck meets your shoulder, his breath hitching. You hold a hand to the back of his head and pull him tightly against your chest, running your other hand up and down his back in a gentle, soothing motion while his shoulders spasm. Nobody speaks for a few minutes as your words sink in.

“I never wanted any of this,” he eventually says, his voice cracking.

“I’m so sorry, Crosshair,” you say, shifting yourself enough to look him in the eye.

“Dont- don’t do that. It’s not your fault,” he says, barely keeping himself together.

“It’s not entirely your fault either,” you say. Crosshair looks up at you, confused, and you continue: “You still have your chip. They lied to you.”

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