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They end up finding the photo while they finally clean up the Marauder. With Crosshair’s return and rehabilitation, there’s six people living in the place now, plus a Gonk droid. And they’re all prickly in their own ways, so it ends up becoming a matter of necessity that they clean the place up and install another bunk or two.
Omega tilts the screen towards Hunter as she finds it, and he hums curiously as he gets a glance at the photo. He grabs it fully and his brow furrows as he takes in the photo. He recognises Commander Cody with a bit of a pang, and Captain Rex is an ever-familiar face, post Order 66 and all the rushes that came after it.
But there’s two other faces, and while Hunter recognises the distinct look of a reg, there’s nothing beyond them that’s very special to him. The armour rings no bells, neither does the one on the left’s goatee or barely-seen tattoo. Their helmet designs and paint colour clearly state them to be from the 501st so, Hunter shouts–“Echo?”
The man himself peeks his head in, looking distinctly displeased to be interrupted from whatever he was doing. No matter, though, as he comes over when Hunter waves him over, the photo hidden by the angle he’s crouched at. “Was just wondering if you recognised this photo? I don’t know who it’s of, but I’m guessing you knew them, because they look 501st.”
He hands the datapad off, and Echo’s slight grin falls immediately. Hunter’s proverbial hackles raise as he notes how Echo seems to pale, his body wracked with minute tremors as he clutches the ‘pad so hard his knuckles must be white. His eyes close, and Hunter’s on his feet in an instant, feeling Omega’s worried gaze on them.
“Echo?” he asks, and his worried tone seems to draw the rest of the squad. Even Crosshair looks somewhat perturbed by Echo’s state, and he can definitely see the shakes much better than Hunter can. He levies a curious glance on Hunter, who just shrugs, just as lost.
“Stop looking through my shit, Hunter,” Echo snaps immediately, shoving the pad into his hands and turning on his heel, brushing past the audience in the doorway. When Hunter follows, growing more and more worried with each passing second, Echo glares venomously at him. “It’s none of your business. Leave it.”
“Hey, Echo,” Hunter says gently, motioning quietly for Tech to be on alert. He hands the pad off to Cross, who probably shows the other two, but Hunter doesn’t pay attention, slowly drifting forward to crouch in front of Echo.
They’re teetering very close to a panic attack, he can already tell, already hear how Echo’s breath is quickening with every passing second. Slowly, but surely, and that is enough for Hunter to worry. “We’re not trying to pry. We’re just curious, that’s all.”
“Stop it, Hunter, please,” Echo begs, and Hunter’s world goes lopsided, because Echo doesn’t beg. Echo is the oldest of them all by a long shot, and Echo’s an ARC, and Echo is one of the strongest sons of bitches Hunter knows. He doesn’t beg, he just packs up and moves on, and keeps fighting. It’s both terrifying and awe-inspiring sometimes, but all the while, Hunter doesn’t like when his ori’vod shuts them all out. Once burned, twice shy, or something like that.
“Echo,” he says, voice as even as he can make it. Slowly, he lays his hand on the metal of Echo’s knees, noting the full-body shiver that crawls down the other man’s body. It is followed closely by a bit back sob, that has Hunter’s heart ricocheting in his chest. “Echo, what’s going on? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, you’re okay.”
“That photo,” Echo hisses, and Hunter flinches back as his eyes meet Hunter’s. There’s a burning malice, an indescribable pain, burning within them, the tears only making the flames worse, it seems. “Is of me. Far-right. That’s me. That’s who I used to be, before–”
“Echo–” Omega tries.
“No!” Echo shouts, shooting to his knees. Hunter backs up just fast enough, scrambling to his feet as he watches Echo in fear and desperation. His chest is rising and falling violently, tears flowing freely down his face. “You don’t get to take that, Hunter. That’s mine. That’s all I have left of F–”
He shakes his head, swallowing whatever name he was about to say. He rubs at his eyes furiously, glaring at all of them in turn. Hunter doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so mad, or at least in a long time. “You don’t get to pry into the one thing I had. That was me, and they took it from me, they made me fight and kill my brothers. They used things I made with my best friend against the people it was supposed to protect!”
“Fives and I spent hours protecting that strategy, and it was the first one they took from me. They used it against ARCS from the 104th and they both died. Because of me, because of something I made with the only–” Echo suddenly, seems to stop. Hunter stares in horror as he goes completely still, not even breathing. He’s just about to get Tech over when Echo shudders, and walks out without another word.
Hunter watches him go in silent horror, eyes turning slowly to the rest of his squad. Omega has tears in her own eyes, scampering over to Wrecker to get some comfort from the big man. Hunter meets Crosshair's eyes and then Tech’s in turn, running a hand over his face. “Get Rex on the line. Now.”
Rex is smiling when he finally picks up, a sight that Hunter likes, and is sad to see go the second he takes in the squad. His brows furrow as he seems to do a headcount, his voice deathly serious as he asks, “Where is Echo?”
The Captain’s protectiveness over the ARC has always been understandable, but a little past Hunter all the same. He knows it doesn’t just come from wanting to make sure what happened to him on Lola Sayu doesn’t happen again, but the details as to why have never been filled in, by either man. But whatever it is, the fact of the matter is that Rex cares deeply for their resident ARC, and has known him for a long–long–time.
So, Hunter asks about the photo. Rex’s brows furrow for a moment, until Hunter grabs the pad and shows it to him.
“Oh,” Rex says easily. “That photo, yeah. It’s from when Echo and his twin, Fives, got back from ARC training–”
“Wait, what?” Hunter cuts in, naming the confusion painted clearly on the rest of his squad’s faces. “Echo has a twin?”
Rex’s face does something odd, then. At first it seems to fall, almost slacken, and then horror washes over him, quickly followed by an overwhelming grief. The same grief that had been in Echo’s eyes as he looked at the photo through his tears, body shaking from the weight of his held-back emotions. Hunter realises, suddenly and horribly, that this is much larger than he could have ever imagined.
This isn’t the matter of a lost friend. This is the matter of losing your other half. Slowly, arduously, Hunter’s eyes drag over to their own set of twins. Tech and Crosshair, while easy to snap at one another, are loyal to a fault. He’d seen what Crosshair's absence did to Tech, but he can’t even imagine what the death of his twin would do–to either of them.
The man in the photo, the other one in blue, had clearly been someone to Echo, once upon a time. But Hunter had assumed a close friend, a fellow ARC who Echo trained with for a long time. Batchmate wasn’t out of the question, but the idea that the man was his twin and he never spoke of it…Hunter suddenly feels sick. And wholly horrible for prying.
This is an open wound–not just for Echo, but Rex as well. And Hunter hasn’t known either for long, in the grand scheme of things, but he knows that they’re older than him and there’s a part of him that still thinks that means they’re unshakable. But they’re not. Rex looks like he’s just been shot, and his voice breaks as he asks, “He never told you?”
“No,” Hunter says, running a hand over his face, feeling terrible and heavy and guilty. “He never talks about…about before. He only ever really mentions you when he tells stories from his 501st days. I just…never thought–”
“It’s okay, Hunter,” Rex says gently, crossing his arms as if to shield himself. “He–Echo–I–” his words die in his throat, and the Captain’s breath sounds shaky even over the call. “God, I– fuck. He’s just…they were so close, you don’t understand. I tried to talk to him about what happened on Bracca, but we didn’t have the time, and I just assumed that–”
“They were your age or so when I met them,” he says wetly, tilting his head up. He’s definitely crying, now, and Hunter is pretty sure the rest of his squad aren’t unaffected by the sight. “So fucking young. Shinies, and they were so excited to join the 501st. And when they became ARCs, I thought I’d explode from how proud of them I was. That’s the photo. We took it the second they touched down, and fucking hell– Echo. ”
Rex slams his fist down at that, face pained, but Hunter doesn’t think it’s from the hit. This Fives, has left an impact on everyone around him, and his death has left something deep and jagged within his Captain, and his twin. His twin, who is Echo. Echo, who never spoke of even having a twin. Hunter thinks he knows why, remembering Echo’s pained expression, the shakes that racked his body.
“What can we do?” Omega asks softly.
Rex’s eyes soften as he looks at the girl, but his exhale is no less shaky for it. He runs a hand over his close-cropped hair, and says, “Echo and Fives are…were very similar people. If I know anything about them, I know he’s going to go out and drink himself under the table, and he’ll stumble home after. They…the twins never talked about what bothered them. They just did shit that would make it go away until they could ignore it.”
Tech looks distressed, “With his body modifications, Echo is far more susceptible to alcohol poisoning than he was before the Techno Union. I presume the last time he did so was before the attack of the Citadel?”
“Right before, actually,” Rex says, eyes shining with bitter tears. “I don’t know why, but two days before, they got so drunk, the both of them. I was pissed as hell at them at the time, but–that’s the last time I saw them laughing together. I…” His words die. Whatever he thinks about that moment, it’s not for them to know, not right now.
“I’ll go get him,” Hunter says, and Tech nods. “Rex, I–” he hesitates, uncertain as what to say. I’m sorry? I’ll bring him home? Thank you? But Rex seems to understand, smiling slightly and nodding, before cutting the call. Hunter takes a steeling breath, and walks off.
Instantly, Crosshair is his shadow. Neither says anything to the other until they reach the city, but it’s just Crosshair asking where their resident ARC would have gone. The closest bar no doubt, and luckily Hunter knows where it is. And equally luckily, his hunch is right, because there’s Echo, already at least two shots deep and looking sick already.
He doesn’t protest as they gently haul him up, slamming his payment on the counter as they wrangle him out. The Bartender watches them go carefully, a few stray patron’s eyes following them as well. Hunter shakes his head to remind himself to ignore the stares and focus on the already tipsy (at the very least) Echo. At his other side, Crosshair looks murderous, but at who is yet to be revealed.
When they get him to bed, and out of his armour, Echo finally seems to stir. He doesn’t fight them, but he glares mulishly, arms crossed protectively over his chest, all but sneering at everyone who comes in. When they all fade out, but Hunter stays, the glare doubles down on the other man, who watches him carefully. “What?” He finally snaps, words only slightly slurred.
“Why didn’t you tell us about Fives?”
In an instant, Echo seems to deflate. He exhales heavily, his eyes closing as he does. His shoulders curl in the tiniest bit, and Hunter wants to shake him and beg him to stop, to stand tall. Echo is an ARC and Echo is his Ori’vod–he’s supposed to stand tall. He’s supposed to be larger than life, but Hunter doesn’t think he’s ever seen the man look so small.
He thinks back to the picture from earlier. Echo looked like just any reg at first glance, but now that Hunter knows, he can’t unsee it. Echo still stands like that sometimes, smirks like that. His eyes still burn brightly like that man in the picture’s did, but the absence of his twin is just as obvious. Echo never stands at anyones right, Hunter noticed a long time ago. Never let them be just left of him.
And now, Hunter knows it’s because that was never any of their place to begin with. Echo’s left is for a man who died a long time ago, a man who was Echo’s other half he had ripped straight from his chest. Without his twin, Echo is half of who he was supposed to be, a shell of that man who stood tall as he came home from ARC training.
“Because he’s dead,” Echo says miserably. “Because he’s gone and I was supposed to be too. Because he’s the one thing that has always been mine. Tambor never took him from me, only took what he made. It was the one thing he could never destroy, never ruin. And even then, Fives died because he figured out the plot, and the Chancellor and the Kaminoans killed him. And I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there to protect him. He was my Ori’vod, and he was alone and he was afraid, and I wasn’t there.”
Hunter blanches at the comment. Echo is the oldest of them all–by far–and they all know it. Echo is Hunter’s Ori’vod, that broad, unshakable thing he looks up to. But Fives was Echo’s Ori’vod like Rex, but his twin as well. Bound by blood, intertwined and inseparable. But look at where they are now. Both were unable to protect the other when it mattered the most. They were severed from one another like a cut rope, and Echo will have to live with that for the rest of his life.
“I wanted to be just like him for so long,” Echo says softly, voice destroyed. Hunter takes the chance and sits on the edge of Echo’s bunk. “That’s the only photo I have of him. I know I overreacted, and I’m sorry it’s just–it’s all that’s left of him. That dumb fucking photo. He looks like an idiot in it, and I teased him for so long about it. But everything else is redacted because he’s a fucking idiot and jumped into things all the time–”
Echo’s words cut off, and when the silence stretches, Hunter clears his throat. “It’s not stupid, Echo. Omega and I pried into your stuff, and I didn't let it go when I should have. I’m really sorry.”
“Please,” Echo says, and he’s begging again. Hunter doesn’t like it any more. “Don’t be sorry. I think I just never expected to have to answer questions about him. I don’t talk about him because I’m not ready, and just thinking about him makes me feel sick. I miss him so much, sometimes, I think I’m going to explode. But then you were there, and I didn’t know what to do, and…” Echo gestures miserably.
“When you’re ready to talk about him,” Hunter says, gently, reverently, laying his hand palm up in the space between them. “I’m here to listen. I don’t care if you’re complaining about him for three hours or crying because you lost someone really important to you–I will be here. We all will. You’re one of us, Echo, and Fives mattered to you. You’ve gone through so much.”
Echo nods, leaning forward a bit until his head rests on Hunter’s shoulder. His hand loosely intertwines with Hunter’s, giving it a single squeeze before dropping it. He exhales sharply, a few stray tears falling down his face, but he doesn’t seem as bothered by them anymore. “I miss him.”
“I know,” Hunter replies right back. “I know.”