"Your hurt. Don't pretend to be a hero when your clearly injured." Cross said as he kept his head down from the gun fire. His eyes pinned on her through the helmet as he checked her arm and sighed. Grazed. At least she's not gravely injured as he took one of his bandages from a small pack in his armor and handed it to her.
"Wrap it up." He pulled out a small little tack with a mirror on it. And tossed it at an angle at the ceiling to get a better view at the storm trooper's firing at them. His eyes studying it for a moment as his finger pulled the trigger.
The blaster bolt from the FirePuncher had found its mark in many heads. The bolt jumping back and forth between targets as he took a breath. A deep collective breath as he relaxed. The silence welcoming as he looked at her.
"Are you Alright, Steela?" He asked her. His helmet being thrown to the ground as his wrists shook. The damn PTSD. His teeth gritting in annoyance as he took a shaken breath.
"I must be getting rusty.." he muttered as he tried to hide it. He was blaming it on his lack of fighting. When in reality his fighting hadn't changed. Almost like he hadn't gotten a break since the order was given. 66..the cursed number. The one that made him lose himself. Then after that...torture. so much alone and it was showing.
"I'll be fine in a moment."
Steela couldn't help the light, baffled yet amused, snort that left her when he said that. Don't pretend to be a hero. He was one to talk, coming to her aid when it would have been far more logical for him to keep his focus on the troopers, pick them off or at the very least, not trap himself with her on this part of the trenches, where they knew where they both were.
But he didn't hold his position. Instead, he came to her aid and, even if it wasn't a dire injury, she appreciated it.
She couldn't wait to get back to base and tell Saw 'I told you so'. Steela was glad she didn't let him shoot Crosshair back when the chip was a bugger issue to this alliance between them and the clone trooper. She nodded in thanks when he handed her the bandages, working on her arm quickly. Then, her attention was seized by a glimpse of what he pulled out: a little tack with a mirror. What did he need that for–
Her question was answered before she could even think of asking it out loud. Steela's eyes widened as she heard the telltale sound of felled stormtroopers and then, nothing. Silence. She knew better than to peek and risk any stragglers getting a clear shot at her head, but the temptation was there.
Crosshair's voice snapped her gaze away from his rifle and to him. "I'm alright, thank you."
She noticed the trembling of his hand, stepped through the trench and, as she passed by him, she placed her hands over his in what she hoped would be a steadying move.
"If that was you being 'rusty', then I cannot wait for a chance to watch you when you've got some confidence back in you." Steela smiled, her hand delivering a gentle pat over his before she let her own rifle slide off her shoulder, holding it at the ready. "Take your time, I'll cover you."