Love ANYTHING Crosshair And Omega But Unfortunately There Isn’t Much For Them :(. Don’t Know Why

SOMEONE FAVORITE SIBLING DUO IN ALL OF STAR WARS!!!!! And Omega and Grogu are my favorite characters of ALL TIME!!!! I wish I could find more of ANYTHING Omega and Cross

(I know I won’t ever find anything Omega and Grogu unfortunately) SOMEONE NEEDS TO DRAW THIS &/OR FIC!!!!! PLEASE!!!!

Crosshair: I don't care who you are... Crosshair: If your little sister falls asleep on your lap... Crosshair: And even after thirty minutes when both of your legs go numb... Crosshair: Don't move! Crosshair: You kriffing stay there and appreciate the cute little thing in your lap!

Shameless self-promotion!

I wrote this little fic a while back and for a long time I thought something like this would never happen in canon but with how season 2 has developed... who knows 👀

Anyway here's some Crosshair and Omega sibling cuteness.

___

There were more troopers on patrol that night. More than they’d expected Crosshair decided as he peered through his scope at the hangar and the few small portholes carved into the rock. At least they were following schedule so it shouldn’t be a problem.

He paused to tap a quick message to Hunter’s comm, just to be safe. His brothers could take on some extra security but it was always better to err on the side of caution if they could afford it. His attention shifted back to the base. The darkness next to him remained quiet though he could hear the occasional shuffling and soft breathing noises. It made him want to roll his eyes.

How Hunter had thought this was a good idea was beyond him. Though in this particular case he had Echo to thank, because of course the brat needed more field experience and of course that experience had to be the kind she had the least of. Like manning a sniper nest.

Karking reg and his military conscience. Maybe next time he was cleaning his legs one of them would ‘accidentally’ get lost and stomped on by Wrecker.

Now, he could look on the bright side. The brat hadn’t deemed it necessary to talk to him yet-

“Hey, how do you do that?”

And there it was. Yeah. Right there.

Crosshair briefly regretted all his life choices as he felt himself bristle. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to the kid’s presence by this point but her timing was still garbage. Echo was definitely going to miss that leg. He’d make sure of it.

“How do I do what?” he snapped back, chomping down on the toothpick he was currently abusing. He could see her blink at him through the darkness and an image of Tech flashed through his mind as she leapt at to the opportunity to talk:

“Usually when you have a toothpick in your mouth you make a ‘tsk’ sound when you wriggle it around. Like this:”

She leaned back on her haunches and the edge of her mouth curled as her tongue made a sharp clicking sound. Crosshair felt his whole face spasm. Kriffing brat, why was that so accurate??

Oblivious to his mortification, Omega pressed on: “But you’re not doing it now. How do you stop yourself from doing it?”

Really? They were doing this now?

“In case you haven’t noticed,” he bit out, “we’re in the middle of a mission.”

“Yeah, I know. But how do you stop yourself? I thought it was a nervous tic.”

“A nervous ti-?!” His eye actually left the scope and he sputtered before he had the chance to realize what he was doing. When he did, he felt like digging a hole into the gravel and burying his head in it. He was pretty sure Tech had told him of some animal somewhere that did that.

He gritted his teeth and willed himself to calm down. He was not going to lose his temper in front of the brat.

“You ever heard of the word ‘creepy’, kid?” he shot back and glued his eye back to the scope. They were lucky the guards hadn’t moved much in the meantime. If they had and Crosshair hadn’t noticed it he was fully committed to blaming it on Echo. Or Hunter.

As time went by the tension in his shoulders began to unwind. The kid was quiet but didn’t seem discouraged if the air of anticipation was anything to go by. Crosshair on the other hand could feel something chipping away at his resolve under that glittering brown gaze.

He fidgeted for a bit. Then fidgeted some more and knew he was doomed as soon as the thought entered his brain and wiped its feet on the welcome mat.

“You compartmentalize.” She instantly perked up next to him. “You take specific habits and teach your body to associate them with a physical state.”

“A physical state?”

He glared out of the corner of his eye. He was getting there.

“Posture, breathing, heartbeat,” His trigger finger flexed and the chalk-powdered skin caught on the glove’s fabric. “Tactile sensations. Once your body starts recognizing the signs, it puts you in the right mindset.”

Omega had gone completely still by the time he finished and he recognized that dark blotch on her face as her mouth hanging open. Her voice was hushed with awe when she spoke next.

“That is so cool.”

“You know what’s not cool?”

“What?”

“The fact that you’re not compartmentalizing right now.”

There. That should keep her quiet for a while.

A group of guards changed shifts shortly after and Crosshair watched them chatter with each other, helmets bobbing, while the stars marched on overhead. His brothers were still making their way through the base, it seemed. And they’d managed to stay under the radar for once.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a light appeared in his peripheral vision, somewhere off to the left. He froze as he stopped to evaluate the situation. He couldn’t afford to be unprepared if a shootout broke out so removing his scope from the hangar was out of the question. This meant that his best course of action was to try and judge the light’s position on his own for now.

He pulled away from his rifle and trained his gaze on a suitable section of the rock, a small distance off to the right of the light. Omega’s reaction was slower.

“There’s a light!”

He saw her point her binoculars at it.

“I know.”

“But it’s over there.” She tugged at his pauldron urgently and he resisted the urge to grumble. If she yanked off his rifle support he would have Hunter solder it back on personally.

“I can see it,” he bit out, trying to do his job despite the literal child attached to his armor.

“But you’re not looking at it!”

Crosshair sent a pleading look up at the heavens. Dank farrik, what was wrong with him? He was better than this, he should be able to ignore her.

“Will you stay quiet if I tell you why?”

Her blond curls bobbed with her nod, reminding him of an overenthusiastic cleaning droid with a duster. He glared at her through the darkness.

Then made a show of turning the other way and ignoring her.

“Hunter,” he commed his brother. “There’s an extension of the base that’s not on the holomaps. Direction northwest, into the rock. Careful, there may be more troops there.”

“Roger that.” Hunter’s voice crackled through the connection before everything went quiet again. The Firepuncher was cool as Crosshair adjusted his grip on her. Sometimes he wished his rifle could talk so it could shut up when other people couldn’t. Did that make sense? It made no kriffing sense. Point in case, he could already feel Omega scooch closer to him in the dark and he knew he couldn’t avoid his way out of this one.

“Your peripheral vision is more sensitive to light,” he said, “That’s why you see some things better in the dark when you’re not looking directly at them. Same goes for motion.”

Well, technically most people didn’t have any use for it since their peripheral vision was shit, unlike his, but she didn’t need to know that. It was a hollow victory though. She was practically vibrating with excitement now that she’d learned something new again.

There was a tell-tale shuffle and he all but whined when he realized she was about to ask him more questions.

“What is it now?”

“I have another question” Obviously. “When we were about to head out you put your helmet on before the others. Why did you do that when we were still on the Marauder?”

This time he actually drew away from his scope to press his forehead to the dirt. The pebbles under his chest plate crunched as he heaved a deep breath. “Night vision peaks after 30 minutes of being in darkness. I have a shader function in my helmet-”

___

Twenty minutes later they were still in the same place they’d started.

“If your night vision is better, does that mean your eyes are more light sensitive in general?”

“Yes.”

“So you not only see objects more clearly but everything looks brighter.”

“Yes.”

“Does that make it harder to sleep?”

A pause.

“…Yes.”

A surprised gasp. He was at the end of his tether.

“Are you done?” he asked not even bothering to hide the long suffering tone in his voice. Thankfully, thankfully, she was and just in time as the next moment an explosion reached their ears and the troopers inside the hangar started to scurry around like ants. The familiar sound of a siren followed soon after.

It seemed his brothers had finally gotten to the meat of the mission.

Crosshair smirked as he zeroed in on the guard that seemed closest to the hangar bay door. It was time to play whack a trooper.

___

The mission wrapped up without a hitch. His brothers had commed to report a cleared mission objective and a successful retreat which had prompted their leave of the sniper nest. The base personnel hadn’t bothered to try and find them. They were too busy putting out fires.

He and the brat made it back to the Marauder in blessed silence though Crosshair hadn’t failed to notice the bounce in her step. The rest of the batch were already preparing for takeoff — quite leisurely so, they must have shaken off their pursuers — and Omega skipped to Hunter’s side as soon as he was in sight. Crosshair would have made fun of the mushy look that crawled on his face if he hadn’t done it a thousand times already.

“Well, you look excited.” Crosshair heard him say to Omega as he caught up.

“Did you know that your peripheral vision is more light sensitive than your central vision?” she blurted back, shuffling from foot to foot and barely keeping herself from flailing her arms.

There was a moment of confusion as Hunter processed the information. Then his face slowly split into a shit-eating grin that made Crosshair’s blood go cold.

“Zip it,” Crosshair growled in warning, only making Hunter’s smile grow wider, before shoving past them.

Karma really was a bitch.

Hunter was brave enough to show him that same knowing grin a few more times before the day was over and it made Crosshair wonder if he could finish the skull on the other half of his face using just bruises. Tech would have been proud of how close he came to putting his hypothesis to the test.

Life on the Marauder went on after that. The brat was still annoying but moderately so, just as she’d been from the very beginning. Hardly anything had changed except that she and Wrecker had found a new hobby to entertain them and though he didn’t know what it was, he knew it entailed a lot of yelping and rubbing at sore fingertips.

And Echo? Echo had a new leg. Funny how that worked.

It was only a couple of weeks later that their little stakeout would come back to bite him in the ass. He was getting ready to turn in early, drained after listening to his brothers bicker for what was probably a few hours (no, Tech, Wrecker would not stop eating Mantell Mix for dinner no matter how many times you tried to impart the virtues of the food pyramid to him).

Sometimes one had to wonder if Tech wasn’t an idiot under all that intellect. And if that was the smartest person in their group, then Maker help them all.

His armor came off without much fuss as he stripped down to his blacks. A strap on his left vambrace tried to give him trouble but he had just about gotten it off when the curtain to Omega’s room swished open violently.

Her eyes found him standing next to his bunk and she gave him a brilliant smile. One of those beaming ones that promised an annoyance.

“Crosshair! Are you going to bed?”

He answered her with a scowl. “Why do you care?”

As usual she didn’t seem the least bit perturbed and he watched her dive back into the little room, making a ruckus as she rummaged around for something. “Wait, I think it’s pretty much finished-”

There was a triumphant cheer and she seemed to have found what she was looking for as she was soon climbing down the little stairs, running over to him and pushing something into his hands. He stared at her and then the thing he was holding.

It was a piece of cloth. A small piece of cloth.

He couldn’t be sure and he frowned at the way it felt between his fingers, all roughly sewn stitches and errant threads. At least now he knew what she and Wrecker were up to when the latter shoved half his body through the curtain and they spent hours yelping and whispering to each other.

The puzzle started to make sense when he turned the thing over to look at it proper.

It was shaped like a visor or goggles of some sort, made out of shiny black fabric with biased edges and an elastic string attached to either end. The right side of the mask – because it was a mask, a sleep mask – was decorated with a few shaky strokes of white paint that formed a reticle, which, if he wore the thing, would align perfectly with his tattoo.

Crosshair felt something lodge in his throat.

“Here!” Omega said proudly. “For your eyes – you said they bothered you when you sleep.”

He swallowed as he looked at the mask in his hands.

“Thanks.” His voice was hoarse.

“Do you like it?”

He blinked, determined not to let his voice crack.

“It’s fine.”

“Great! I hope you wear it.” With that she leaned in to squeeze him in a hug before skipping off and disappearing into her room. He was left there standing awkwardly by his bunk.

Part of him knew what was coming. No, scratch that, all of him knew what was coming.

Taking a slow breath, he turned around to face the direction of the cockpit. Every single one of his brothers was looking at him with a variation of Hunter’s shit-eating grin form that day. Wrecker looked about ready to crack up. Echo looked like he wanted to be punched.

Crosshair took another breath and steeled himself as he pointed a single threatening finger:

“Not. A. Word.”

It was said it as quickly as his pride allowed and he hurried to tug the mask over his eyes so he wouldn’t have to watch their stupid faces as they burst into giggles. The chortling didn’t stop after he’d settled into his bunk and he relished the rush of satisfaction when he kicked out his leg and it connected with Echo’s midriff, sending him sprawling to the floor with an ‘oof’. That’s what the bastard got for trying to take a holo.

Now, at least, he could finally go to sleep… and the mask did feel nice. Even with all those crooked stitches.

Yeah, Crosshair could finally sleep now.

“Guys,” Echo wheezed from the floor. “I think I got it.”

“Oh karking hell- ”

___

There’s an actual game of whack a trooper online, go look it up I beg of you.

Never speak of canon to me ever again.

ANYTHING WITH OMEGA ESPECIALLY BEING THE MAIN ISH PERSON BUT ALSO HAVING CROSS TOO IS EVERYTHING!!!! So incredibly happy to have found this!!! Although, RIGHT AFTER a seizure and now migraine SO HOPEFULLY I don’t lose this (not sure if this saves anywhere??? I’m sorry if I sound stupid at all)…. IF Fives was in this OMG YOU COULDNT GET ME TO STOP LMAO

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) Characters: Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) Additional Tags: Episode: s01e16 Kamino Lost, Drowning, Team as Family, Whump, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, episode rewrite, Jealousy, Hurt Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Protective Team, Planet Kamino (Star Wars), Blood and Injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD Summary:

They don’t escape Kamino’s remains unscathed, especially Omega.

LOVE these two!

“I'll see you again. I promise.”

had to redraw the scene that made me cry the most! program: procreate