Homowingian

Part 4 (1) - Misplaced

When Hunter finally tracks Tech and Omega to Tantiss, he'd long stopped hoping they had a chance at getting Crosshair back. It became so foreign, so crushing-other-world-ly, and Hunter stopped thinking about it. He thought he could avoid it until their attack goes bad, and he finds himself trapped alone in a small cell with the broken pieces of his little brother.

Hunter remembers when he woke after his wings came in. Tech had stayed by him, held his hand when he laid down, trying to finally rest.

Tech was gone when he fully woke. Hunter doesn't know if he'd been up in the days – the week of his life he missed, the week between Raxus and Ryloth, but he didn't remember any of it. Just that Tech was lying beside him, his warmth and comfort everywhere. Tech was the first to touch his wings, for as fleeing and brief as it was, and Hunter remembers it even if they were sore enough for it to sting.

But that day, when he woke and Tech was gone, he'd wondered what would happen if Tech was gone entirely.

And here they are.

Tech is gone.

Omega's gone.

Crosshair.

Tech's gone, and Hunter stares emptily at his broken goggles every time he sits and works, doubling his own and Tech's work in one, remembering and feeling the warmth and steadfastly unshaken loyalty, no matter how broken and violent he'd become after Crosshair.

Tech.

He can hear his voice sometimes.

(He misses him. Misses the constant, warm presence beside him. Misses the smooth, rolling accent. The sharpness. Stars, the ego. Hunter could use that unshakable certainty right now. He misses Tech because he's his brother and he was always so certain and he always knew what to do. He knew everything when Hunter didn't. He has always been a steady support. Always been right beside Hunter as he tried and struggled and failed.)

(No matter how distant Tech was, he never left.)

(He still remembers the times he was terrified there'd be only three aboard the Marauder instead of four. He was wrong. There's only two, and four holes of emptiness.)

A lifetime away, and Hunter still feels him. Felt it the moment he lifted Tech's goggles from the floor where Hemlock threw them like they weren't the world and the everything. He'd felt the energy sparking up his arm, the dark presence in his mind.

Safe. Home. Brother. Tech.

Hunter left him, and he's not doing it again.

He made the mistake of leaving Omega behind on Kamino, and they lost Crosshair for it. Then he left Tech, and they'd lost Omega for it.

They aren't leaving anyone behind again.

They thought Tech died on Eriadu.

It was all so fast. Hunter'd been shot back inside. Left wing broken, the bone shattered thoroughly from the blaster shot. Between the heat and the burn, even twitching it was agony. When they'd made it back to the rail car, and Tech fell – there was nothing Hunter could do.

Omega had tried to fly after, Hunter had grabbed her – thank the stars for how fast he'd reacted, or she would've been shot by the fighters still firing at them. Hunter had tried to go after himself. He'd meant to – all he'd have to do was tackle Tech sideways into the pole and they could've waited until the others could get there.