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“In here,” he said, nudging his brother in the direction of an abandoned air duct. As soon as they were concealed, Echo let out a sigh of relief.
He walked over to one of the rusty, old blades and yanked it to the side, revealing the pack he had stashed there before running off to go rescue Fives from the people after him. Which, of course, was the entire Republic. He honestly didn’t know how Fives managed to keep getting himself into these situations.
“What’s that?” Fives asked. Echo threw a ration bar at him in response.
“Eat that.” Fives made a face. “When was the last time you had something to eat?” he asked.
“I ate something…” he trailed off, frowning. Echo rolled his eyes underneath the helmet he wore.
“My point exactly.”
Fives still eyed the ration bar distrustfully. “You’re not trying to poison me, are you?”
“If I wanted you dead, you think I would have rescued you?” he said as he rummaged through the pack.
“I don’t know, maybe!” Fives shouted, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know who you are or what you want or anything-”
Echo reached up and stole the ration bar from his hands, breaking off a piece. He lifted up his helmet just enough to expose his mouth and bit into it.
He pulled the helmet back down. “See? Not poisoned.” He held the ration bar back out to Fives. He took it. Echo turned back to the pack, pulling out paint in various skin tones.
“What’s that for?” Fives asked through a full mouth.
“We can’t be walking around with you still looking like a clone. It’ll draw too much attention.” He gestured down to the paint. “This will fix that until we come up with another plan.”
Fives stared at him, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Why are you helping me?” he asked softly.
Because you’re my brother, he wanted to say. Because you’re Fives and you’re crazy and drive me insane and I’d do anything for you.
“It’s my job to watch out for you,” he said instead.
Fives raised an eyebrow at him. “Job?”
Echo didn’t say anything else, just sat down on the floor by the paints and motioned for Fives to sit down in front of him.
He got to work quickly, dipping his fingertips into the paints and mixing them together in different ways, highlighting different parts and masking others until Fives’ face appeared to take on a different shape. He was good at this sort of thing, often did it to cover up his scars when he actually needed to have his helmet off.
Fives let out a huff as he smudged large amounts of paint over the tattoo on his temple, and Echo’s heart ached.
Gods, it hurt to have his brother so close to him again and not do anything about it. He wanted nothing more than to be able to cast off his helmet and hold on to Fives and never let go. His eyes burned as that old, familiar sense of longing ripped through his chest and stole his breath away, and he tried to remind himself it was for the best. He wasn’t the “Echo” Fives knew. Not anymore. Too much had happened. No, it was better this way, better that Fives would never know what he had become. And if he did figure it out… Echo didn’t want to think about that. There was no way Fives would accept him the way he was now. Echo didn’t think he could stand seeing the look of revulsion on his face once Fives realized he was part clanker.
Maybe he was being selfish in not telling Fives the truth. Maybe he was only lying to protect his own feelings. Fives had no idea who he was, but they were together. It was something at least, which is far better than nothing and he didn’t want to ruin it.
He just wanted to be with his brother. Echo missed him.
Fives cleared his throat, and Echo realized he had been staring, frozen with his paint-covered fingertips inches from Fives’ face. “So…” he said, gaze flickering between his fingers and the visor of Echo’s helmet. “Am I good now?”
Echo let his hand fall. “Yeah,” he croaked out, thankful for the vocabulator in the helmet that revealed none of the emotion he couldn’t quite keep out of his voice. “It’ll do.”
Fives nodded, standing. “What next?”
“Next, we head to my apartment.”
Fives paused. “Wait, you mean-”
Echo tilted his head. “Did you think I lived here?” Fives’ mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
“While I suppose I see how you could think that, I do have higher standards than living in an old air duct,” Echo sighed, crossing his arms.
“Right, uh, sorry,” Fives stammered, hand ghosting over the back of his shone head as he looked down at the ground. Echo watched him, heart aching again, until he forced himself to look away.
“Come on,” he said softly, turning back to the entrance.
They made their way through the streets of the undercity. It wasn’t as bad a place as most people made it out to be. Some had a reason to be here, others just were. People went about their life and you just carved out a place for yourself in between it all like everyone else. Simple as that.
They turned the corner to the street of his apartment building, only to find a Quarren and three Niktos standing by the door.
“Damnit,” Echo muttered. “I didn’t want to deal with this today.”
“What?” Fives asked, looking between Echo and the men at the door. “Wait, is something-”
Echo silenced him with a hush. “Just act like you belong here and let me do the talking. And hope that I won’t end up needing to move again.”
He looked like he wanted to say something else, but Fives did as he said. The change was almost scary to watch. In a few seconds he’d gone from a confused fugitive to a bored smuggler following a friend. Echo was impressed. Well, he supposed they didn’t make clones ARC troopers for nothing.
Echo took a deep breath, already formulating an escape plan should they need it, and approached the building.
“Excuse me, some people actually need to use this door,” he said, shoving his way past them. If they could just get inside…
The largest of the three Niktos stepped into his path, blocking the door. Echo stared at him defiantly through the visor of his helmet. “Do you live here? ‘Cause I’ve never seen you around before and if you don’t live here, then I kindly suggest you get out of my way.
The Nikto didn’t reply. The other two grabbed his arms and shoved him back, placing him right in front of their leader, the Quarren.
"Who’s your friend?” he asked, the Niktos resuming their place behind them. Echo supposed it would have made a frightening picture to anyone who hadn’t met them before. But he was quite familiar with this little gang. They were hardly a threat worth his time.
“Oh, you know, just someone I met,” Echo said. He leaned ever so slightly on the nearby wall, unfazed by their failed intimidation. “I’m good at making new friends. Unlike you I see. This is, what, the third time you’ve brought the same three guys with you? You having trouble making friends there, pal? I mean, I’d definitely be willing to give you some pointers if yo-”
“Shut. Up.” the Quarren hissed.
“Ah, so it’s gonna be one of those days,” Echo sighed. They had decided to pick a fight with him today? Fine. He’d just have to kick their asses again. “Don’t use your blaster,” he told Fives. They weren’t far enough down where Coruscant police wouldn’t be alerted if there was a skirmish. That meant no blasters on either party’s part.
He pulled his vibroknife out from his right vanbrace and handed it to Fives. “Hang onto that,” he said, “I want it back afterwards.” The others had unsheathed their own vibroknifes, and he’d rather Fives have more protection. He knew his brother could hold his own, of course, but he wasn’t at his best right now. Someone had drugged him and it hadn’t yet left his system. Echo could do without the vibroblade.
He gave a cocky salute to Fives, then quickly turned around and elbowed one of the gang members in the stomach. Another one came at him from the right, slashing his vibroknife through the air in a large swing. Echo sidestepped the attack easily.
“Missed me,” Echo taunted, dodging the blade once again. Another swipe. “Missed me again.” He took a step back, throwing the gang member off balance enough for Echo to grab him. “You just really are not on top of your game today, huh?” he said, twisting the Nikto’s arm till he dropped the knife. Then Echo kneed him in the chest and let his body drop to the ground.
He picked up the discarded vibroknife and threw it at the first Nikto he’d taken down, who had started to get up again. The knife went right through the collar of his shirt and embedded itself in the wall behind him, pinning him there.
“What happened to 'once you’re down, you stay down?’” Echo muttered. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun and raised his right arm just in time to catch the Quarren’s blade. It hit the metal cybernetics with a clang.
The Quarren looked at him with wide eyes and Echo smirked beneath his helmet. “Cybernetic arm,” he said. “Which means this is going to really hurt.” He twisted and socked the Quarren in the face with his metal hand, dropping him to the ground.
That was enough time, however, for the last Nikto to come up from behind him. He heard Fives shout the beginning of a warning before pain lanced through his jaw. The brute had put all of his strength into the uppercut, enough to knock Echo’s helmet clean off.
Blinking the stars from his eyes, he spit out blood on the ground in front of him. “Ow,” he hissed. “Rude.” He glared up at the last Nikto. The brute actually had the decency to look scared before Echo delivered a roundhouse kick that would have made even Commander Cody proud.
The Quarren staggered to his feet and took off running, the other gang members stumbling after him. He turned around to pick up his helmet, but Fives was already there. His eyes were fixed on the visor, fingers trailing across the double bars painted on it. Echo had painted those bars, and the handprint, on every set of armor he had. This one was no exception, the only difference being he no longer wore the handprint on the outside, rather painted it on the inside. He could see the exact moment the realization hit Fives.
Slowly, his brother looked away, gaze traveling up and up until it reached his scarred face and finally met Echo’s own.
The helmet fell to the ground.
“…Echo?”
He smiled sadly. “Hey, Fives.”