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Fives wakes up in the middle of his sleep cycle to the sound of the barrack’s door sliding open and closed. He glances at his chrono. There isn’t a shift change for another two hours. He leans over the side of his bed to look down at Echo’s lower bunk. Empty.
Worried, Fives kicks off his blankets, drops to the floor, and makes his way out of the barracks as quietly as his sleep addled brain will allow.
Fives can’t help but marvel at how quickly the destruction of the battle has been cleaned up. There are still major repairs that need to be done to the outside of the city; however, the halls, which only a few hours earlier were stained in the blood of their brothers, are back to their pristine, sterile white. Like nothing even happened, like lives weren’t lost. Swept away like a bad mark on a record.
If it had been natborns killed on their home planet…
Thinking like that doesn’t help or change anything, so Fives pushes it to the back of his mind, putting his focus on finding his batch mate. Echo doesn’t usually go off on his own, and certainly not in the middle of the night when he doesn’t have a shift of some sort. So, Fives wanders on hastened steps, checking down each hall he passes.
He ends up at their old training room, the door’s lock unactivated. He goes inside.
Echo sits on one of the benches along the far wall. He is leaning forward, elbows propped on his knees, hands knotted together in tight fists, head bowed. Fives sits down next to him but doesn’t say anything. Echo doesn’t move, absolutely still. Fives sits back against the wall, eyes taking in the familiar room shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the safety lamps dimly illuminating the floor.
After several long minutes, when Echo still hasn’t moved or acknowledged him, Fives asks, “Are you alright?”
Echo’s head turns slightly. “I should be.”
“On who’s orders?” Fives leans forward, mirroring Echo, so that they are shoulder to shoulder. He nudges him. “Is it about Ninety-Nine?”
“It’s about all of it,” Echo growls. “It’s about every sacrifice we make for the Republic. I know what I said to Rex and Cody, but…it’s not fair. And I know that life isn’t fair, and never will be — but I’m tired of watching our brothers being used as cannon fodder.”
Fives reaches over and tugs on Echo’s wrist until Echo gives him his hand. Fives grips it painfully tight. “You can’t think like that, Echo. Our brothers deserve to be remembered for the heroes they were, for the lives they saved. Ninety-Nine died exactly where he wanted to be…on the front lines serving with his brothers. And we were there for it, Echo, we got to fight alongside him.”
Echo grips back. “I know,” he whispers.
“He’d be proud of us,” Fives goes on, “becoming ARCs. Domino Squad too. After they got over the shock, that is.”
A ghost of a smile trembles on Echo’s lips. “You didn’t seem surprised today, when they told us about our promotions.”
“I’ve always known we’d make ARCs someday,” Fives says.
“You could’ve let me in on the secret.”
Fives chuckles. “And ruin the surprise? I wouldn’t deprive you of that.”
“I miss them, Fives.” Echo’s voice breaks on the syllable of Fives’ name.
Fives wraps an arm around Echo’s shoulders, holding tight. “I know. I miss them too.”
And that’s when Echo finally begins to cry.