Chapter Text
They are in the ARC barracks on the Resolute, pulling their gear out of the lockers at the foot of the bunks. It’s a few standard hours before they need to be ready for carbon-freezing; another lunatic Jedi plan, and they aren't looking forward to it.
Looking over his bracer, double checking the comms settings, Fives glances over at Echo. He’s concentrating on his DC-15 blaster pistol, checking the charge. Fives pauses his equipment check, leaning against the end of the double bunk and watching Echo as he loads a fresh cartridge into the blaster. This is going to be a dangerous mission. He and Echo have survived plenty of those, but this definitely tops most. Echo must feel Fives’ eyes on him.
“What is it?” He doesn’t look up, just moves on to checking the twin DC-17s he keeps as backup on his hip holsters. “You aren't going to tell me to move my ammo packs to the other side again are you?” Fives can see a playful smirk forming on Echo’s face when he says it though.
“Well… you are the only one who keeps them on the right. Worried what the captain will think if you cover up the print?” Fives teases, although he knows after Rishi both he and Echo pretty much worshipped Rex, his guidance being one of the only things keeping them going after losing the rest of Domino. Echo throws his glove at him for that, but he’s smiling so he must not be feeling too nervous about the mission.
They are quiet for a little while after that, both gearing up and doing last checks on their armor and munitions. They’ve done this so many times now, they could probably get into full kit with their eyes closed. Still, Echo grabs Fives’ pauldrons from him when he goes to pull the scuffed plastoid over his head. Fives lets him; Echo likes to do this sometimes, especially before the more dangerous missions. Fives was offended at first, insisting he could do it himself, but he knows that it's just Echo’s way of wanting to keep him safe in whatever small way he can.
Echo moves behind him to click the magnetic clasps into place under his left pauldron.
“Do you…” Echo sounds hesitant.
Fives turns his head but keeps still. Echo has his hands resting on Fives’ shoulders, not quite touching the collar of his blacks. He tightens his grip for a second. Fives waits, he knows that whatever is bothering Echo, he will tell Fives if he needs to.
Echo’s hands slip away. “Nevermind, we can talk after the mission.”
Fives turns to tell him they have time now, if it's important, but as he does his com lights up. The captain wants them on the starboard bridge to go over the mission before they need to prep for the freezing chambers. Karking Jedi.
~~~
Fives blinks his eyes open, squinting at the small chrono on the wall across the room; it’s the middle of the night cycle. He’s not surprised to have dreamed about that day, the last day he and Echo were together before… well, before. He feels the now familiar urge to check that Echo is safe, that he's really back with Fives. That they are actually together again.
Still groggy with sleep, he carefully shifts on the stiff mattress of the top bunk, not wanting to wake Echo. Peeking his head over the edge, he feels like a cadet again peering over his sleeping pod at brothers quietly horsing around, or comforting each other in the night when the Kaminoans assumed they were all sleeping. His heart jumps when he doesn’t see his brother, the haze of sleep quickly being replaced with panic. Detangling himself from the blanket in a hurry, he jumps down from the bunk and dashes out into the hall to the common area, coming to a halt in the kitchen when he spots Echo.
“Echo?” Fives isn't sure what he's seeing; Echo’s legs look fine, so the mechanical parts scattered around him on the counter and around his feet on the tile floor aren't from him.
“I can't turn it off.” Echo sounds… flat. He is facing the counter, where the caf machine usually sits, his back to Fives. Unlike the day before, when Echo’s tools were arranged neatly while he worked on his prosthesis, there is now a mess of shining metal and plastoid parts haphazardly strewn around him.
This doesn't look good.
“Kriff,” Fives mutters. That’s where the caf machine went. He steps a little closer, not wanting to push too hard.
“Echo… are you-” he starts, gently.
“I can’t turn it off, Fives. I can’t.” Echo turns to face Fives, his voice cracking. “I can feel everything and I can’t turn it off.” He sways, dropping a metal cylinder he had been clutching in his hand, and reaching back towards the counter with his scomp attachment. Fives rushes forwards to steady him.
“Ok, ok, it’s ok, I’ve got you.” He gently lowers Echo to the floor, sliding down against the counter beside him. He pulls Echo close against his chest, rubbing his hand up and down in slow calming movements over the hard lines of the implant leading down Echo’s spine. Echo is shaking, and it feels like every muscle is tensed beyond what should be possible. Fives was trained for nearly every combat scenario, but he wasn't trained for this, and now it feels like they are drowning.
Fives brings a hand up to the back of Echo’s head, careful to avoid putting any pressure on the ports in his skull. He gently coaxes Echo to rest his temple above Fives' heart-something they used to do after particularly awful battles. The assurance through the night that the other's heart was still beating was a massive comfort, and sometimes the only way they could fall asleep. Fives leans down, resting a cheek on the short soft curls that have been growing back in.
“I’ve got you,” Fives repeats. “I’m here.”
Echo’s hand tightens around the fabric of Fives’ sleep shirt where it’s tucked under his chin. He says something but it's too muffled to make out, then takes in a sharp breath and lets it out in a low, wounded sob. The sound makes Fives’ throat tighten and his eyes sting. He gently runs his fingers through Echo’s hair and tightens his hold on him with his other arm.
They sit like that for a long time, Fives rubbing Echo’s back, until Echo’s grip on him loosens and his breaths even out. Fives clears his throat, where it still feels too tight, before trying to speak.
“Think you can stand up?” he says, voice rough and nearly a whisper as he pulls back a little, enough to get a look at Echo’s face. He looks so tired.
Echo nods and together they slowly stand, Fives supporting most of Echo’s weight. There isn't a lot of it, and Fives can feel Echo’s ribs where he’s holding him around his waist. They make their way back to their room and Fives lowers Echo onto the bottom bunk, helping him position his mechanical limbs in the most comfortable way they can; Echo on his left side, his right arm with the scomp attachment resting in front of him.
Echo curls his knees up when Fives sits at the edge of the mattress and pulls the blanket up over his shoulders. Echo’s eyes are open, but he seems to be staring at nothing. Fives rests a hand lightly on Echo’s cheek, rubbing his thumb gently over his brother’s temple, and Echo closes his eyes.
Fives doesn't say anything; they don’t need to talk about it right now, and it looks like Echo might be falling asleep. He moves to stand, thinking he should clean up the mess in the kitchen before trying to get some sleep himself, but Echo reaches out and grabs his wrist.
“Please.” His eyes are open again, searching Fives' face for something, he doesn't know what. “Please stay.”
Fives looks over to the door and back into Echo’s pleading eyes. He can stay until Echo is asleep. There's plenty of time to clean before anyone wakes for the start of their shifts.
“Ok, I’m here. Scoot over.” He lifts the blanket and shuffles in, facing Echo. Once he’s settled, one arm warped around Echo’s shoulders, Echo tucks his face under Fives’s chin and closes his eyes with a sigh.
“I’m sorry," Echo says, and Fives can barely hear him for how quietly he speaks.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Try to get some sleep. If you want, we can talk in the morning,” Fives whispers into the pillow, closing his eyes, just for a minute.
Echo’s hands slip away. “Nevermind, we can talk after the mission.”
~~~
Echo has an impression of a warm weight over his chest when he wakes. For a minute he just stays there, his back on the stiff mattress and Fives pressed along his side, arm thrown over his chest, and one leg curled over his lower half. He can’t necessarily feel Fives' leg on his. It's more of a sense of being pinned down; his leg prostheses don't have sensory capabilities beyond basic pressure sensors.
He opens his eyes after a while, the night before coming back to him in a rush. He groans at the sight of soft light filtering in through the transparisteel window. It’s morning then, and later than he or Fives usually rise. This is the most sleep he has gotten since he was taken out of stasis, and despite the pit forming in his stomach at the thought of last night, he feels surprisingly rested.
“Fives.” He worms his hand out from where it is wedged between his chest and Fives’ to give his shoulder a shake. “Fives, wake up”.
“Mmmnot yet. S’too early,” Fives mumbles in his half sleep, pulling Echo closer. Echo can't help the smile that tugs on his lips. He’s missed this. They haven't bunked together since before. He thought maybe Fives might be wary of the prostheses, so he didn't want to ask. But he wasn’t exactly able to put clear thoughts together last night, and while the guilt of that is weighing on him, he can't regret being this close with Fives again.
“Fives, you are definitely late for your shift this time.” Echo lets himself smile fully. This is good. This is normal. So much has changed, so much about himself has changed. But this, here with the person he trusts and cares for more than anything, it feels almost possible for him to have his old life back. He shakes Fives' shoulder a little harder this time.
“What?” Fives lifts his head, smiling softly for a moment, his eyes flicking over Echo’s face. Panic takes the place of the sleep softened expression a moment later when he bolts upright, nearly banging his head on the bunk above.
“Echo! Kriff!” He throws off the blanket, scrambling out of the bunk. “Are you ok? I’m sorry, I didn’t-” He fumbles over his words, looking back to the door where he must be thinking about the night before, and then back to Echo.
Any feelings Echo had of having his old life back are quickly dissipating, gone with Fives’ panic. He shuffles himself to the edge of the bed, torn between laughing at the way Fives looks like he’s facing down a full grown rancor and not wanting to cause him any more anguish. The laugh wins out, but it sounds hollow even to his ears as he rubs his hand over his face, the last of the warm sleep feelings leaving him.
“I’m fine, it's fine. But I think I have a mess to clean up.'' He gives Fives what he hopes is a reassuring smile. It doesn’t seem to work.
“Fuck! Karking-” Fives whirls around, throwing the door open and heading to the kitchen, his string of curses following him. Echo blows out a long breath, getting up to follow Fives into the kitchen. He knows Fives’ anger is directed at himself, not Echo, but that just makes him feel worse.
“I can fix it, just leave it and head-” He stops when he sees Fives standing in front of two plastifoam cups of caf on the counter, a tooka design printed on the side. The caf machine parts are nowhere to be seen and Fives is holding a small piece of flimsi.
He holds up the note. “It’s from Thorn. Says you should come in today… and that I owe him for the caf machine.” He lets out a huff that Echo can tell is really a laugh.
“Oh... ok.” Echo takes the cup Fives hands him; it’s still warm so Thorn must not have left too long ago. He and Fives obviously really needed the sleep if they didn't wake up while the other four were getting ready to head out.
Fives seems to have calmed down somewhat after reading the note. He puts it back on the counter in place of the second cup of caf, looking over the lid sheepishly at Echo as he takes a sip.
“Sorry… I shouldn’t have... You know.” Fives gestures towards his room with the caf cup.
Echo hates how awkward this feels. This isn't how they are. They are Echo and Fives. Best friends. As close as two brothers can get. He just wants to move past last night.
“So, I’ll be on desk duty then?” He tries for a change in subject.
“Oh, yeah. It doesn't say.” Fives glances back at the note on the counter. “Guess we’ll find out”
~~~
It’s a short walk across the Guard complex from the officer’s barracks to the main Guard office building.
Fives and Echo had hastily gotten dressed, Fives wearing his ARC armor from the war, and Echo wearing a modified version. He still isn't completely happy with it, and forgoes wearing any armor on his arms, rolling the sleeves of his blacks up on the arm with the scomp link. The pauldron doesn't fit without the spaulders so he hasn't been wearing that either. He isn't sure what to do with painting his armor yet, since he's not with the 501st anymore and unsure where he will be placed in the future. Supposedly that's up to him but it still doesn't feel real that he gets to make those kinds of decisions. As hard as it is to walk around in gleaming white armor like a shiny, it is what he has right now. At least he has the kama to conceal where the armor doesn't fit properly over the upper parts of his leg prostheses.
Fives waves at a few brothers on their way. Echo isn't really paying attention, instead distracted by the prickling energy of speeders as they pass, a hover cart full of ammo crates passes by and he almost flinches. The stronger signals coming from the communications tower over the main office are almost unbearable. Every inch of skin feels like sparks are flying and fizzling out right under the surface.
“You ready?” Fives has stopped at the front doors, just far enough that the automatic opening sensors aren’t triggered.
Echo hasn’t been to the offices yet. He’s met most of the Guard that Fives is close to, but that was either at the Jedi Temple or in the barracks. He swallows, attempting to regain his composure. He wasn't expecting just the walk over to be so much.
“Yeah.” He swallows the lump in his throat he didn't realize had been forming. This is ridiculous, he’s never been nervous to be around brothers before. In fact, he doesn't know of any clone who gets nervous around brothers. Irritated, sure, but not nervous.
The offices are humming with the sounds of dozens of brothers at work. Troopers in full kit rushing through the halls, others sitting at desks with their helmets off pouring over datapads or answering calls coming in on the desk-mounted communicators. Fives and Echo head straight back to where the commanders’ offices are.
The one Fox shares with Stone is small, a large portion of it taken up by a wall-to-wall communications console. On the opposite wall the hazy late morning light of Coruscant is filtering through the narrow slats of transparisteel that make up the reinforced window.
Fox is leaning against his desk, helmet off, speaking with a brother Echo hasn't met. The guard’s armor doesn't look like it has been worn for long, all things considered, and when he turns to face Fives and Echo, Echo is surprised by how young he is. This brother must be barely older than ten, his face smooth and cheeks full in a way that no clone who has been serving in the field for long maintains. It makes something in Echo’s chest pull tight to see the shiny standing next to Fox, both with their cropped regulation hair and bare faces. All of the cadets back on Kamino will never be forced into war, never be pushed to the point where they end up like their older brothers - scarred on the inside and out more often than not.
“M’lady!”
Echo is jarred from his thoughts by Fives’ bewildering exclamation. Fives claps the shiny on the shoulder as he walks past him. For a brief moment Echo wonders how the Force a brother ended up with a name like that before Fives stoops to run his hands over the hide of a juvenile massiff, the creature wiggling their hind quarters excitedly, long tongue lolling out at Fives’ attention.
“Who's my best girl?” Fives croons and Echo is starting to feel embarrassed for him when Fox turns his attention to Echo, causing his muscles to automatically spring to attention out of habit.
“At ease brother,” Fox huffs, amused. “You're not under my command yet.”
“Yes si- er, Fox,” Echo gets out sheepishly.
“Echo, this is Clips, he works under Hound in the K-9 unit.”
The shiny, Clips, gives Echo a small wave. He seems a little timid but maybe that’s to be expected for a kid taking in what Echo is now for the first time. Not many brothers are half machine after all.
“We’re down a man today so I’ll have you cover patrol with him and-” Fox pauses, and Echo swears Fox rolls his eyes. “Flatcake.”
Oh. So M’lady is Fives' pet name for the massiff. This would be great ammunition to use against his brother if Fives wasn’t still shamelessly fawning over the reptile. Flatcake is on her back now, Fives kneeling down next to her, alternating between patting her underbelly like a drum and scratching around her large, dangerous looking jaws.
“Hey, that’s great!” Fives is grinning down at Flatcake like an idiot, his voice pitched much higher than usual. “You get to work with Echo today!” He leans in, cupping both sides of the massiff's face, practically smushing her eyes closed as his voice goes low, mumbling more nonsense to her.
Echo clears his throat. He really can’t take any more of this. What has gotten into Fives?
Fives stands and Flatcake follows his example. Coming to a seat at his side, she looks all business where moments ago she was rolling around like a tooka with a caught womp rat.
“Alright Echo, Clips, get moving” Fox pushes off his desk and waves for them to exit the room.
Clips pats his thigh and makes a short but loud whistling noise and Flatcake comes trotting after them, leaving Fives and Fox with their duties for the day. Echo feels a tug of guilt in his gut, Fives must have a lot to catch up on with all the time he has spent with Echo over the past few weeks while he was recovering at the Temple.
Fives gives a wave, still with that idiot grin on his face as Echo follows Clips and Flatcake out of the office.