Then & Now
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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
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s4!Scar's base is so cool and shelters all the dead Scars
Or all Life Series Scar's respawn in Scar's Frontier Outpost- or or, oh god all 5 Scar's are stuck together.
All throughout s4 Scar mentions something-something that Scar's Frontier Outpost is "a place for all Scar's to go!" This au is that, but Scar's Frontier Outpost is quite literal in its description. All Scar's that have died go there to rest. And happen to meet some of the other universe's version of themselves in death.
3rd!Scar waking up completely alone as the first, only with the cats to accompany him as he slowly wanders through this very not well lit up town. Only gaping at the TERRIBLE train track construction. Even if he is no expert a train track should not have a 90 degree turn! Of course half shirtless with a cat on his shoulder, or well guiding him. The place is abandoned to his eyes and- well. He's dead isn't he? Passed when Grian murdered him in the cactus ring, so this is his afterlife...
Its nicer than he had imagined it to be.
Then one day months and months later, there's a silly wizard in his bed with green, depressed eyes. And as he stares into a mirror, this replica-Scar sits up slowly, hands shaking with winces and the biggest frown ever. Looking towards the other Scar, his voice cracks during the sentence, "am I dead?" 3rd!Scar only does a quick nod, because while he assumed this is the afterlife, why would the afterlife have multiple versions of himself? He shrugs it off, probably better not to question it. It'll be nice to have some company.
Meanwhile LL!Scar is pulling his hoodie over his head and trying his best to be small and hide away. Because he was unrightfully- totally rightfully, it was a death game. A death game he did not sign up for- murdered. And now he's dead and seeing other versions of himself. It'd be a shock to anyone's system truly, and LL!Scar stares blindly as 3rd!Scar goes on a long babble, sitting down and petting one of the cats with a smile as he talks all about the local train in the area. A week later, the two have settled in and just exist. Because they're dead now and all they can really do is make the world more pretty.
This repeats for each one. After DL 3rd!Scar stops sleeping in the bed they keep spawning in, changing that room out to be more welcoming in a sense. After the mess that is DL, the one who somehow stays farther away from the "group" than LL did, the two give little concerned glances and raises of the eyebrow. That room has a big banner over the door reading "WELCOME TO SCARS FRONTEIR OUTPOST(AKA YOUR DEAD)", streamers hanging from the ceiling, and a red carpet added to the bottom. The entire room is restructured, and they add a chest full of essential items and a little note reading, "DISCONT FOR ONE SANDWICH!" and on the back it read all horribly scribbled out, "if youd like one more glorius sandwich, that will cost you one shoe!" DL got scammed through this, the two longer dead Scar's putting on smiles and demanding two diamonds for the amazing tour they gave the other. And somehow DL couldn't help the laugh that crackled from his chest, the others couldn't stop their snickers either.
SL and LL get along well, but either refuse to acknowledge why or talk about their past. Just when the other appears they connect.
LiL!Scar being like the youngest child. Definitely does the most pranks and gets along like a fire with everyone, but 3rd!Scar encourages his chaos. These two have definitely set off fireworks for fun on the anniversaries of their own deaths(LiL starting this tradition because he simply can. Bdubs and Cleo would've loved to see the pretty lights).
DL being the dramatic middle child... somewhere in there. He ends up being the most reserved even when LiL arrives. He's scared of making many connections and accepts his cats as his soulmates and his only friends. Said cats are also how the other two bring DL out of his shell. Making tons of the toys for the kitters and bonding over their equal love of the little guys.
They all deserve a little happiness in their endings somehow! A nice afterlife where they can thrive together and enjoy some bits of it after realizing they all aren't out to get each other, they're simply just... dead. Now all they have are the alternate universe also dead versions of themselves(this being pointed out over a campfire would make them snort).
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