Crosshair was being watched. He was out of practice, a year of relative peace on Pabu had seen to just how sloppy he'd become, but the prickle on the back of his neck caressed him with a familiar touch. Eyes still closed, he breathed out softly, casually, and tried to relax the tenseness in his body. It was late at night going by the slight chill, and barring the wind, the outside was quiet. But inside with Crosshair, an almost silent breathing had fallen eerily into sync with his.
And it had the high ground.
There was something on top of his bookcase, the one in the corner Hunter had spent months making, it was a bit rustic, tall and uneven but sturdy. Wrecker kept telling him he needed something dramatic on top, to ‘finish off the creepy look’, Echo had wondered if it was more uneven or more sturdy and how it could look dangerously like so much of both. Morbidly Crosshair wondered if whatever was up there would answer both their questions.
He waited.
And waited.
But nothing.
The quiet breathing continued behind him.
Crosshair felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple and over his nose, the noise it made hitting his pillow shouldn't have been so loud. Crosshair breathed out, and the thing followed, chills ran over his arms at the sound. It had to have some level of intelligence to copy, to wait for him to break. Even retired, Crosshair was still a sniper, he had patience when it counted, so the minutes ticked on.
Until a creak.
Crosshair's eyes shot open on pure instinct, he was facing away, it was dark save for the light from the window at his feet. There, in the corner of what he could see, was a vague outline of a shadow, he watched it unblinkingly but it was still again, the breathing slowed to match his.
Now that eyes were open he could see the dresser next to his bed and in the drawer there was a blaster. Hunter had given him a vaguely disapproving look when he'd seen it, but that look only made Crosshair smug, and Hunter had rolled his eyes and mentioned Omega copying.
Now it was his only hope.
Crosshair ran through scenarios, but there was no way to reach it without alerting whatever was in here with him. It was down to speed, to the reaction time the thing had. Under the blanket he flexed his fingers and for the first time the breathing behind him was out of sync
And Crosshair moved.
He fumbled the drawer open, fingers grasping and clawing and clutching and his body turning.
The thing was no longer on his bookcase.
He pulled the trigger.
Tech made a loud hissing sound that turned into a huff from where he was crouched over Crosshair. His eyes that glowed faintly yellow in the dark were squinted. The water from the toy blaster has soaked his hair causing some of it to flop limply over one eye.
“Really Crosshair, was that necessary?” He signed, having the gull to look put out by it all.
Crosshair lowered the water blaster, “Wha-necessary? It's the middle of the night, and you were up on that bookshelf like a little creep-What if I had my Firepuncher instead Tech??”
Tech scoffed as he pushed his wet hair back from his face, sending him a tired look “I made sure it was put away earlier.”
Crosshair huffed and flung the blaster onto the bed, sighing roughly, “So what you just snooped through my room to plan to scare me? We're not cadets anymore.”
Tech looked down at him, “I understand that. I wanted to get you alone. ”
Crosshair blinked, and finally focused on Tech bent over him, remembering suddenly how Hemlock had returned the technician to them. Why his eyes glowed, and his teeth were a bit too sharp and also what he needed-
And groaned.
Loudly.
He let his head collapse onto Tech's collarbone, “Tech I can't be your booty call, you just fed yesterday. I need a few days to get that blood pumping. Can't you get Wrecker or Hunter?”
He felt Tech breathe in, probably inhaling his scent or whatever weird shit he did now.
“You taste much better. It feels better.”
Crosshair flushed a bit at the…praise? The truth? Whatever it was it was still new and nice to be wanted in this freaky way Tech needed him now. Whatever Hemlock had done, Tech needed blood. Of course, he could still eat regular food but the blood was a requirement in his diet. The genius theorized whatever Hemlock had done to both of them, testing, experiments, torture- where it had failed in Crosshair and succesed in Tech- it had connected them regardless. At least that was how Tech described it, feeding of the others was sufficient but with Crosshair it left a strange high and-
Well Crosshair had stopped it there. Everyone had looked awkward except Tech, who said he was merely stating facts.
A gentle hand ran over the back of his skull down to his neck.
“May I?”
Crosshair blew out a breath, “Sure, but I get to sleep in, and you get to explain to Hunter why you couldn't wait-” he trailed off with a soft moan as Tech's fangs breached him, clutching at Tech's shirt, “ T-tech. Warn a guy-”
Tech's response was a hum and Crosshair felt it in his veins down his toes. He let Tech press him back into the sheets, still sheathed, closed his eyes and let himself fall.
