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His hands are shaking.
Fives clutches the troop bay’s overhead rail and does his best to swallow back the lump swelling in his throat. Echo’s as still as stone beside him and stays so even after the gunship touches down on the Resolute. Captain Rex bids them follow.
Fives obeys numbly.
The other troopers in the bunk room barely give them a glance when they pass by. Rex leads them to the far corner and stops.
“These are yours now,” Rex says, and gestures to the beds. Fives clasps his hands behind his back and sets his shoulders back. Echo gives him a quick glance and Fives knows that, even if he plastered the blankest expression in the world on his face, Echo would still see right through it.
In that moment, Fives has never been more grateful for him.
“Thank you, sir,” Echo says for both of them.
There’s kindness in Rex’s eyes. “I’ll leave you to get settled in,” he says, and pats Fives on the shoulder. “If you need anything, just ask Jesse.”
Fives follows his gaze to the man on the bunk opposite theirs. There’s a Republic emblem emblazoned on his head, sweeping down across his left eye and curving around his skull. Jesse lifts a hand in a wave, then goes back to fiddling with his datapad.
“Yes, sir,” Echo says, and with something like a reassuring smile, Rex is gone.
By the time Fives remembers he has to tell his legs to move so he can sit, Echo has already claimed the top bunk. “I don’t remember you asking me if I wanted that one,” Fives says. There’s no bite to it. Words feel strange on his tongue, heavy and wrong.
He wonders who had this bunk before him.
“You always took the bottom bunk on Rishi,” Echo says calmly. How is he so calm? Fives grasps the blanket and jerks it back. His arm is trembling.
“The Rishi outpost?”
They turn. Jesse’s stopped working on his datapad. Under the weight of their gazes, he falters. “I just got assigned here from Kamino,” he says awkwardly. “I heard the Rishi outpost was completely destroyed.”
Hevy. Cutup. Droidbait. O’Niner. All gone, now. “That’s a word for it,” Fives says through grit teeth. The blanket is rough in his grip, like it’s been washed one too many times and worn away to abrasive fiber.
His hands are shaking.
“We were attacked,” Echo says. His voice is so measured. So steady. Fives envies that. “One of our squad members sacrificed himself to—”
“Hevy,” Fives snaps. Echo stops. Fives turns to face them. His breathing is harsh in his ears. “His name was Hevy.”
Echo’s silent for a beat. “Hevy,” he agrees quietly. “Hevy stayed behind to detonate the explosives manually and destroy the all-clear signal the droids had been broadcasting. It was because of him that the Republic was able to discover the Separatists’ plans to mount an assault on Kamino.”
Jesse’s eyes blow wide. What was that Rex and Cody had called them? Shinies? That’s what Jesse is: fresh off Kamino. “Oh,” Jesse says, like an exhale. “That’s not good.”
“Yeah,” Fives says shortly. “It wasn’t.”
“Sorry,” Jesse mutters.
Fives blows out a breath. “Not your fault,” he says. Out of the corner of his eye, Echo relaxes. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” Jesse agrees quickly. Too quickly. “’Course.”
Fives changes into fatigues, stows his armor with Echo’s, and returns to his bunk. Someone calls out, and a few minutes later, the lights snap off.
All the breathing feels louder in the darkness. Fives tosses and turns and kicks at the stupid scratchy blanket until the rest of the room stops moving: everyone is sound asleep.
Well, almost everyone.
“Echo?” Fives calls, a raspy whisper. For a second, he thinks Echo might have managed the impossible, but then there’s a low creak from above him and Echo pokes his head over the side.
“What?”
“Can’t sleep either, huh?”
Echo snorts at that, swinging his legs to dangle and then dropping down. Fives sits up and scoots over to make space. “Not with you talking to me,” Echo says. It sounds rote, not wry. Fives shoves his shoulder.
“So,” he says. “The 501st. Hevy’d be so proud.”
Echo chuffs a laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess.
Even in the dim gloom, he can see that Echo’s hands are shaking too.
Fives opens his mouth to ask you okay? and closes it just as quickly. He used to think okay meant being alive and having his squad close and safe.
Now, half of that definition depends wholly on Echo.
“C’mere,” Fives murmurs, and holds out his arms.
Echo clings to him like he’s a lifeline. His breath is shuddery. So much for his steady façade: Fives should have noticed – should have known. The calm to his chaos: that’s Echo.
“I feel like this has been an unnecessarily long hug,” Echo says at last, muffled against his shoulder.
Fives manages a chuckle. “Sorry, are there regulations for hugs now too?”
“Probably.”
Despite his words, Echo doesn’t pull away for a while. When he does finally ease back, he settles close enough that their shoulders are still pressed together.
“I miss them,” he says softly. “The others.”
“Me too.”
Echo’s hands are curled together in his lap. He turns his gaze to them. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers. His hands clench; a tremble runs down his spine. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
Fives ruffles his hair. “We’ve always had each other’s backs,” he says. “Nothing’s gonna change that.”
There’s a haunted look to Echo’s eyes. “We left Hevy.”
“Hevy made a choice.”
“We should have gone back for him.”
“Echo, Hevy’s the only reason we’re alive right now.”
Echo grimaces. “I know,” he says. His voice is choked. “I know.”
Fear explodes in Fives’ chest, a broken burst of desperation. He takes hold of Echo’s shoulders and squeezes until he meets his gaze. “I will never leave you behind,” Fives says fiercely. His throat is tight. “You understand me?”
It takes a moment. It takes an eternity. At last, Echo nods.
“Good,” Fives says, and blows out a breath. His grip on Echo’s shoulders eases. “That’s good.”
“We should get some sleep,” Echo says blankly. He makes no move to go back to his bunk, so Fives slides over and pats the space beside him.
“Might as well stay here,” he says. Echo curls up against him, warm and solid and safe and alive.
For now, that’s enough for Fives.
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