Author's Note: Cross-posted from Ao3! This is a companion piece to I Miss You (also cross-posted), although you do not have to read that one to get this one ^_^
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars…*sigh*
Kamino is always dark, always stormy, but as Fives walks past the yawning panes of glass overlooking the turmoil of waves against the gloaming night, he feels a kindred connection to its anguish. This is his first time on Kamino without Echo.
It's been weeks since his death, and Fives is about sick of the questions, the looks, the reassuring squeezes of hands on his shoulder. Because not a single word, expression or touch will bring Echo back. Empty condolences are useless. He doesn't need to be coddled or sympathized with. Fives is as strong and capable as the best of them.
And yet, he's never experienced life without Echo until now, and the resounding emptiness of his absence burns with the intensity of a blaster bolt right through the heart.
When Rex suggested that Fives be put on a troops transport assignment to Kamino, the ARC leapt at the chance. He'd been quietly looking for any excuse or reason to return to his home planet to collect Echo's personal effects; however, outright asking would mean admitting…something. That he was weak? Devastated? Heart broken? Clones are supposed to withstand the stresses of warfare, to have unbreakable resolve in the face of death, no matter whose death it was. It is literally bred and cultivated into their DNA. Maybe the Kaminoans aren't as smart as they think they are…and maybe clones can't be programmed because they are actual human beings.
Fives shoves away the wandering thoughts, focusing on navigating the halls to their barracks. He thanks the force that most of the troopers assigned to this barracks are off-world, and he'll have the space mostly to himself. Activating the lock, he wastes no time making his way to his and Echo's bunk cell. He goes to the storage shelf and pulls down the box with Echo's CT number. Clean, cold letters.
Fives sits down on what used to be Echo's bed and opens the box. He isn't surprised that it is nearly empty. Practical and by-the-book Echo didn't find much use for sentimental trinkets or useless collections. Which means the things he did keep are — were — invaluable to him. Inside is his graduation medal, his cadet data pad with all the manuals he'd memorized still downloaded, and the deck of cards he had stolen after the rest of the squad had teased him relentlessly for being boring.
Fives remembers when Echo came into the barracks that night. It looked like the kid had murdered someone by the look on his face, awash with guilt and a sheen of nervous sweat.
Echo grabbed Fives' arm and practically dragged him over to the bunk.
"Who's boring now, huh?" he whispered, the tremor in his voice betraying the bravado of the words. Echo shoved the deck of cards into Fives' hands. "I took these off a trooper outside the rec hall."
"You mean you stole them," Fives clarified.
Echo frowned. "He wasn't even supposed to have them. I think he stole them."
"So, what, that cancels out the fact that you stole them from him?" Fives asked, trying so hard not to smile. It made his whole face hurt suppressing that stupid grin. "What's the regulation against that, huh?"
Echo looked like he was actually about to answer him when the rest of Domino Squad appeared.
"What are those!" Droidbait crowed, snatching them out of Fives' hand.
Echo protested indignantly, "Those are mine!"
"Yeah, but you can't play sabaac by yourself, di'kut," came Hevy, lightly smacking Echo on the back of the head.
Echo ducked away and tried to get the cards back from Droidbait who immediately tossed them to Cutup. "Hey, give 'em back!"
"Is there nothing in the manuals about sharing?" Cutup laughed and went to toss the deck back to Droidbait when Fives intercepted.
"I'll take those," Fives said, giving Cutup an extra shove for good measure. He handed the deck back to Echo with a wink. "Fine. I guess you're not so boring after all."
Fives opens the tin and begins to lay out the cards, chuckling over the matching folds. That was the day he'd decided he never wanted to be on Echo's bad side. Cutup had barely survived the verbal lashing he'd gotten for damaging Echo's prized possession just to cheat at a game he was kark at anyway.
The cards are soft and almost pliable, worthless by any sort of functional standard. Shuffling had become too difficult, and they'd resorted to sifting them manually, which in turn led to arguments about stacking the deck, which – depending on the dealer – was often true. After the Risha Moon Outpost, Echo had become even more protective of the deck, grudgingly allowing Fives to use them occasionally. Ironically, it was Echo that caused further damage by dropping a card in his cup of caf one morning.
Fives bit back the laughter that bubbled up, the compulsive need to make a sarcastic comment at his brother's expense almost overwhelming. But desire was snuffed out the moment he saw Echo's face as he held the dripping card gingerly between his thumb and index finger.
The man's eyes had misted over, and if he weren't a war-hardened ARC trooper, he might have burst into tears.
"Here," Fives said, taking the card carefully. He laid it flat on the table and patted it dry with his sleeve. "Just a little stained. We could stain the rest of them, and we'd be none the wiser."
Echo swallowed and blinked. Hard. Fives pretended he didn't notice. "No. I think I'll just put this deck away. I can get a new one next time we're in town."
Fives picks up the offending card. Even months later, it has the faint smell of caff. "Why'd you have to go be a hero?" Fives asks. "Turns out we didn't even need that kriffing shuttle."
Echo doesn't answer. Echo will never answer him again.
Fives glares at the card, refuses to acknowledge the burning sensation behind his eyes. "You said you'd never leave," Fives growls to the void where Echo's presence used to be. "You promised."
After Rishi Moon, the first time they'd lost brothers, the first time the war was more than just a distant promise of action, they had sat in this room, on this bunk, and Echo tried to comfort Fives from the depths of his own mourning.
"We're next, aren't we?" Fives had asked, voice still hitching on exhausted sobs. "What if you die, Echo? I don't want to be alone."
Echo is quiet for a moment, an arm wrapped around Fives' shoulders. "You won't get rid of me that easy, vod," he whispers.
"Don't you dare make promises you can't keep," Fives insisted.
"I'll keep this one," Echo said.
Like a fool, he'd sounded like he meant it. And in the same foolish vein, Fives had believed him.
Another memory approaches uninvited. Just before they'd become ARC troopers, before the Battle of Kamino, Echo had been driving Fives absolutely crazy, following him around reciting regulations and protocols.
"Force, Echo! Sometimes I wish we'd been assigned to different units," Fives groused irritably.
Echo smiled, unperturbed. "Give it a day, and you'd miss me."
Fives stares at the caff stained card. What he'd give to have the culprit back, to hear another recitation of another reg manual, to goad Echo into participating in another inappropriate prank.
Fives stands abruptly and snatches his own box off the shelf. Unlike Echo's, it is crammed past capacity with whatever junk Fives found remotely interesting. He digs through it until he finds the ink pen Echo said he'd never use because they never use paper. Gripping the pen in his hand, ignoring the way it shakes, he presses the tip into the stained card's backing and writes: I miss you.
"There," Fives says out loud, anger disguising grief. "Are you happy? You were right. I would miss you. I do miss you. You didn't have to go and prove it to me, you kriffing idiot."
He throws the pen in his box, shoves it back in its slot. He turns to Echo's bunk, his meager belongings strewn across a regulation blanket that Echo will never use again. He gathers them up, puts the cards and the medal in his pocket, and clips the data pad to his belt.
He tries to leave the memories behind, but they trail after him like echoes of lost voices against cold, empty walls.
END
(Fun fact: the story itself is 1409 words..just for your information. IYKYK)