In Sickness and In Health
Author's Note: Yeah, I never thought I would write with this pairing either. Lol. This is for Day 4 of the Anakin Rarepair Week and for the square "accidental marriage" on the Bad Batch bingo. ^-^
~ Amina Gila
Anika hadn't expected to be assigned on a mission with the Batch so shortly after the Battle of Anaxes, but here they are. Rumors have it that the leadership of the planet of Luna XI is intending to join the Separatists which would be highly problematic for the Republic's war efforts in that part of the galaxy. If the Republic-aligned system leaves, it'll cut off hyperspace routes, making it harder for the Republic to keep troops on the frontlines supplied.
Normally, it's not the kind of mission that Anika would go on. It's not even the kind of mission the Batch would go on, but they were who was most readily available, and so, they were the ones chosen. Anika is pretending to be Senara Talan, daughter of a rich merchant from a nearby system, who came to the bi-millennial celebration that occurs when three of the planets five moons are full while the other two are going through a total lunar eclipse. She's heard it's beautiful, a cause of celebration for the locals, something that only happens twice every thousand years.
The Lunians are a very private people, a near-human species with some physical differences to humans that no one is fully certain about.
Echo is accompanying her as her personal droid attendant, while Hunter and Crosshair shadow them as her bodyguards. Tech and Wrecker are staying behind on the Marauder to extract them if the need arises. It probably will. Undercover missions aren't something Anika's ever done before, and while she knows that she's fully capable of it, she can't help the way so many tend to gravitate toward her even when she's trying to hide. It'll be best for them to get the necessary intel and then get out before anyone realizes who they are.
While Luna XI is part of the Republic, tensions have become strained, so an official delegation from the Republic would be seen as offensive rather than helpful. Hence, her mission.
"Are you alright with this?" Anika murmurs to Echo as they stand inside the doorway leading to the great banquet hall. It's full of people of many different species, so they won't stick out, and the feasting – and dancing – are already well underway. The music isn't that loud, thankfully, and she scans the room for her target, the Lunian leader, Arym Eralen. She spots him quickly, standing out a full foot taller than the beings surrounding him. The whiteness of his eyes – they have white irises; it's cool – is in stark contrast to the dark violet of his clothing, the blackness of his hair, and the tan of his skin.
Echo touches her back, the only gesture he can really give her without being obviously… well, non-droid. "It's fine, General," he answers quietly, and then corrects himself, "Mistress."
She never really got the chance to sit down with him and talk to him about how much he's… changed. Been changed. She knows how hard it was for her when she lost her hand, and she can't even begin to fathom how Echo must be handling it, being so… different. Non-human. Machine. He was taken and changed against his will, used against his will. It can't be easy for him. She didn't want him to do this, but the Council gave them their mission, and they couldn't refuse.
"But still," she says, "I'm sorry. I would never have asked you to do this if you're not comfortable with it."
Echo tenses in the Force, prickly and sharp and dark, and she wants to hug him, to make him feel better. He didn't deserve this. She should have saved him on Lola Sayu. She shouldn't have left him there. It wasn't her fault, she knows, but she can't stop the guilt from gnawing at her anyway.
"I can help," he answers, "Like this. I would never say no."
That's not the point, she wants to tell him but doesn't. Now isn't the time or place for them to talk about how Echo perceives himself, or how he's been hurt by the Techno Union.
She moves into the crowd, Echo shadowing her, and further back, are Hunter and Crosshair. They're disguised by the armor and colors of the Talan family, so no one will recognize them as clones. Crosshair, especially, given how different he looks from standard clones. Hunter is a little more recognizable, but with his longer hair and tattoo and disguise, it should be fine. They would have brought Tech instead if they hadn't all known it would be a disaster. Tech couldn't do undercover if it hit him in the face.
Which is fine. His strengths lie in other areas.
She mingles with the crowd, exchanging small talk with random people as she moves toward the table to get something to eat. Hunter and Crosshair will probably grab something for themselves and Echo, too, when no one's paying attention. They're meant to blend in, not stick out. Tonight, they just need to familiarize themselves with their surroundings, and listen in for any talk of the Republic or Separatists. That's part of the reason why they chose Hunter. His abilities let him listen in on things from further away than normal humans can hear.
It'll be useful if he doesn't get overwhelmed.
Anika meets Arym Eralen once, but it's very brief, and she doesn't get the chance to say anything that might lead the conversation in a helpful direction. He feels relaxed in the Force, hopeful, optimistic, and she just – can't imagine someone like him joining the Separatists. He's so real. She's met so many politicians on Coruscant, and the only ones she's ever really liked are the Chancellor, of course, and Senator Amidala and a handful of her friends.
As it gets later and beings begin to leave for their respective rooms, Anika motions for Echo to join her as they leave. Hunter and Crosshair fall in step behind them, and she waits until they're safely in her assigned quarters – well, technically, they're Senara Talan's quarters, but she's supposed to be Senara now – and with a jamming device set up before speaking.
"Did anyone hear anything?" she asks as she begins to take down the fancy hairpiece that Padme insisted she wear.
It sparkles in the light, and it's a bit distracting which was the points. She looks like a spoiled rich girl, not an undercover Jedi, much less famous General of the GAR. Her hair tumbles down her back, and she goes for a comb to straighten it out. She wants to get out of these clothes. They feel too… They don't fit her. They're too good for her, like if she moves wrong, she'll ruin them. Her robes and armor are fine. How do rich people tolerate wearing things that are so expensive?
"Negative," Echo answers, sitting on the edge of the bed and stretching, flipping up the face plate of his droid costume. Hunter passes him some food that he snatched from somewhere, and Echo starts eating.
"Nothing," Hunter affirms. "All I heard was talk about the holiday and more details about peoples' personal lives than I ever wanted to."
Crosshair snorts, and Hunter elbows him. "You were getting a lot of stares," the sniper informs her, as if she hadn't felt it herself.
"Yeah?" she asks dryly, digging out a nightgown from her bag. "Anything potentially dangerous?"
Hunter grimaces. "Not unless you count the intoxicated nobleman's son from some planet in the next sector who wouldn't shut up about how you'd be an amazing wife."
Anika drops her head into her hands. "Ugh."
Crosshair looks like he vehemently seconds the sentiment.
"Well, get some rest," she says, looking between them. "I know you've got a room, too, but Echo will have to stay with me to keep up our cover." They don't know if anyone will be watching them or not, but it would be… odd for her to not keep her personal droid attendant with her. It's fine. They've shared quarters before on the frontlines, when they didn't have time or energy to be picky about who they shared tents with. And Anika has always tried to make it clear that she considers herself one of the clones, that she doesn't think herself above them.
"We'll keep a lookout," Hunter tells her, nodding. He nudges Crosshair, and the two of them leave the room.
Anika changes her clothes in the attached 'fresher and tries not to stare too much as the size of it all. She knows Padme's apartment is fancy and elaborate, and she feels just as overwhelmed by it all there as she does here. She's not used to places like this, and she's never felt quite as out of her element as she does now, pretending to be the daughter of a rich merchant.
Echo's stripped off his droid costume by the time she's out of the 'fresher. She wants to talk to him, but she doesn't know how. He's one of her boys, and he was one of her best friends before. That hasn't changed. She cares about him just as much as she always has.
"I'm not making you sleep on the floor," she tells him, sitting on the bed. It's more than big enough for both of them.
Echo shakes his head, expression fond and wistful. "I didn't think you would, General."
A comfortable silence settles over them as he sits beside her.
"I'm sorry," she blurts out, "About – about the Citadel."
Something flashes through his eyes, but it's gone too fast for her to read it. "I'm not," he answers, catching her hand. The gesture is unexpected enough that she looks at him, meets the fierceness of his gaze. "I regret what the Techno Union made me do, but I don't regret what I did there at the Citadel. I knew the risks. It was not your fault. You'd never have gotten me out of there alive."
She squeezes his hand, sighing. "I know," she admits, "But I just – I regret what you went through."
His face softens. "You can't save us all," he answers, "And we respect you because you try, because you care, not because you keep us alive. We always knew we'd die out there. It's what we were made for."
"It's not right," she argues stubbornly. The clones' status was the one thing that's always troubled her. They don't deserve that. They're – they're people too but no one in the Republic even seems to care about that. "You don't deserve this life."
He shakes his head. "If not for the war, we wouldn't exist."
Her stomach drops at that because she knows he's right, but it hurts. They shouldn't live in the reality where they wouldn't exist at all if they weren't slaves to a government and system they never got to choose. They don't get a say in it. She wishes she could make it better for Echo, for all of them. The Batch are only eight. They shouldn't be fighting. Rex is twelve. It's – it's wrong. But as always, she is helpless in the face of it, knowing that things should be better, but also knowing that there's nothing she can do to make it better.
"I know," she agrees, "But…" She doesn't even know how to explain it. She knows Echo is rigid sometimes, fiercely loyal to rules, but he's also fiercely loyal to people. It's why they got along so well. They understood each other, the need to follow rules, to have order.
"I know," Echo says, nodding. "You always want something better for us." His smile is fleeting and sad, and she knows that he understands what she means even if he doesn't understand what it would mean, for him to be free. He knows the clones are property, but the idea of something… beyond isn't something he can fathom. She can understand that – it's true for all the clones – but it only makes her resent the Republic more. It's not right.
He lets go of her hand, touching her shoulder. "Get some rest. We'll need it if we'll be up tomorrow night for the show."
Anika laughs a bit at that, and they lay down together on the ridiculously huge bed.
She drifts off to sleep, and when she wakes up in the early dawn, it's to the feel of Echo pressed against her body, his scomp digging uncomfortably into her back. But she doesn't mind. It's a part of him, just as her hand is a part of her, and instead of pulling away from him, she just shifts to get more comfortable. He's warm, and like this, sleeping, she can see how much younger he looks. Unburdened. He looks like he did back at the beginning, shortly after he joined the 501st, before he lost Fives. It makes something inside of her ache to see it.
Echo wakes abruptly, maybe from a nightmare, and he jolts away from her when he realizes how close he is. Anika doesn't know why that hurts. "Are you alright?" she asks, studying him, the sudden tenseness of his features, the way his jaw is clenched.
His shoulders slump. "I'm fine." It sounds automatic and also untrue, but she doesn't push it. She won't make him confide in her if he's not comfortable with it. Fives would have, but he – he was her best friend, and it doesn't matter what Fives would have done because he's dead now. Gone. Like so many others.
But still, Anika leans over to touch his shoulder before slipping from the bed to go get dressed for the day. She can talk to him later, once the mission is over, perhaps
The morning meal, held in the gardens outside, is a far less elaborate affair than the dinner of last night for which Anika is grateful. She's not sure if she's really ready to put on a mask which she'll be wearing for the rest of the day. But it is a nice day, bright and sunny, the air not too warm and not too cold. There's a sense of tense expectancy in the air, as though everything and everyone is abuzz with the knowledge of what tonight will be bringing.
"Incoming," Crosshair mutters under his breath, and she glances toward him. He's leaning against a decorative stone column behind the bench where she's sitting. Hunter is sitting on the other side of the bench, while Echo stands behind Anika, ready to "serve" her as needed. The sniper tilts his head slightly, and she follows the motion to see Arym Eralen approaching her.
Standing, she hands her plate over to Echo, pasting a welcoming smile on her face to greet him.
"Senara, was it?" he says, clasping her hand. "I hope you are finding everything here to your liking."
"Yes, very much so," she answers with a laugh. "It's very beautiful, very different from the cities where I grew up. Your appreciation for nature is commendable."
Arym smiles at her, and Anika can feel the warmth he's radiating in the Force, as though he genuinely cares about her answer. "Your servants, are they well, too?"
She fights the urge to flinch at the term servant. "Yes, thank you." Stay polite.
"Forgive me for the personal nature of this question, but I am aware your attendant is not actually a droid. I presume he is your secret lover, no?"
Anika freezes. He – she – they – what? But they were so careful. How could anyone have guessed Echo isn't the droid he's disguised as? "I don't – I don't know what you mean," she says faintly. Maybe it's just a guess. Maybe –
"Senara –" he touches her arm, "– You will receive no judgement from us. We can see auras. That is what makes our people different from humans. I know he is not a droid."
Oh. Oh. Oh no.
She scrambles to think of something she can use to explain this away, so she doesn't look suspicious or ruin the mission. This is important. It's for the Republic.
Before she can come up with something coherent, Arym continues speaking, "I apologize for taking you by surprise." He looks towards Echo, and something in his expressions softens with sympathy. "Your father does not approve of him because he is part-machine?"
Can they see that her arm is a prosthetic, too? That's – it feels invasive.
"Yes," she answers, lowering her head. She'll just go with it. It's not an unreasonable assumption, and it'll only last through the duration of the mission. She doesn't have another, better explanation that wouldn't be too far-fetched to be believable. Besides, she knows that there are many, especially among the rich, who look down on those who have prosthetics.
"I am sorry," Arym tells her fervently.
"He wants me to marry the son of a business partner," she blurts out.
Hunter makes a sort of choked noise from behind her, and belatedly, Anika realizes that he can hear every single word.
"May I see him?" Arym asks, looking toward Echo again. "I assure you that our conversation will remain confidential."
Is there a polite way of declining? Echo looks too much like a clone to be mistaken for anything else, but saying no means she has something to hide. Maybe he won't notice? Echo's skin is significantly paler than most clones, though, because of the damage it sustained from the atmosphere of Lola Sayu and then being put into statis by the Techno Union. Tentatively, Anika reaches out with the Force, trying to sense the best path forward, what she ought to do next. It doesn't warn her against telling Arym anything, which is odd, given that he's their target, but Anika trusts the Force fully.
She turns to Echo, motioning for him to join them. He approaches, radiating feelings of uncertainty, but he trusts her and for that, she's grateful. "Darling," she says, and the word feels foreign in her mouth. Echo jolts a bit, though it can easily be chalked up to surprise. "It's okay. We don't have to hide. Let me see your face."
He wavers for a moment, and she helpfully takes her plate from him so he can pull up the face plate of his costume. Anika keeps her gaze focused on the Lunian, her senses alert to watch for any telltale changes or signs of recognition. Arym's eyes widen slightly, but he looks more sad than anything else.
"There are many who don't see clones as human," he tells them. "It would be my honor to help you in any way I can."
Anika shakes her head. "I don't think there is much you can do. You will not be able to change my father's mind."
"Well, no," he agrees, "But I thought of something else."
Echo closes his face place again, body tense, and Anika deliberately brushes against his arm to help him calm a bit. The Force is alight with whispers of change, but not warnings. Whatever is about to happen here, it isn't bad.
"You could marry him," Arym explains, and Anika chokes.
"I – we – but how?" she splutters, trying frantically to think of a way to get out of it. How in all the stars is she supposed to go back to the Temple with the report that by the way, the locals married me and Echo. Obi-Wan would be so disappointed with her.
"Our treaty with the Republic stretches back several centuries," the Lunian answers, "It is a complicated thing, but clones are not considered property here. The Republic has no claim on them, and if we grant them citizenship or officiate a wedding, legally, the Republic cannot charge them with desertion."
"Oh," she says faintly.
"You will be married tonight, when the eclipses have reached their zenith," he continues.
"But –" she begins.
"I insist," he interrupts, "It is a sign of good fortune for you and for us. Our Seer told us we would receive a sign as to whether or not we should remain allied with the Republic. You are that sign. Both of you. It would be our greatest honor to bind you together, that you not be separated."
Anika would be lying if she said she's never thought about marriage before. She has, and she's always known that the only person she could ever imagine being bound to for eternity would be a clone. They would understand each other in a way that she doesn't think any other person could understand her. The clones are slaves, too, and they fought in the war together. They understand it. They'll understand each other.
But – but she never thought it would be Echo, and she never thought it would be like this. She's never even kissed anyone, and she doesn't know if it's really Echo that she wants. It's not fair to him, either. Somehow, she has to find a way out of this. She can't force Echo to marry her, even for a mission.
"I –" she starts, uncertain.
"We accept," Echo says on top of her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "We would be grateful to you."
She gives him a frantic, wide-eyed look. What is he doing?
But she has to play alone, so she covers it up with a smile. "Yes, of course," she agrees, leaning into Echo's side. "If you could do this for us… I'll never forget it."
Arym smiles at them both. "I will have it arranged. Enjoy the day and the gardens." He bows to them before walking away.
Anika pulls away from Echo. "What the kriff?" she whispers, half-panicked. "Now what do we do?"
Echo shrugs a shoulder, feeling abashed but also resolute. "General, you heard him. He thinks this is some sort of sign, and this might be our best way to keep them in the Republic. If we'd refused, he might have looked deeper. You're not exactly unrecognizable, even with makeup covering your scar."
Well. He has a point. But –
"I don't want you to get forced into something you don't want," she confesses.
He shrugs. "I'm sure we can nullify the marriage after we leave. At least we'll have completed the mission. It's hardly the strangest thing we've done."
"Well, the nobleman's son will be sorely disappointed," Hunter says dryly.
"Hilarious," Crosshair deadpans, coming closer. "How're you going to hide that he looks like a reg?"
Echo looks at Anika, and she looks back at him, just as uncertain and helpless, before turning to Hunter. "Hey, it wasn't my plan," he protests.
"You're good at improvising," she points out.
Crosshair grins, a little too ferally for her liking. "I've got an idea."
**w**
Echo's sigh of exasperation is audible to Anika through the 'fresher door as she stands in front of the mirror, trying to fix her dress so she looks adequately presentable for her impromptu wedding. She feels way more excited than she has any right to, especially given that it's not even real. They didn't decide to do this for the mission. Arym suggested it, and they went along with it since it was easier than trying to find a suitable alternative on such a short time frame. She shouldn't be excited. But she is.
Her dress is a light blue gown with golden accents that Padme insisted she get. The blue makes her eyes stand out vividly, and gold is her favorite color. It looks good on her, even if the soft silkiness of it is something that makes her uneasy. How much did it cost? Way, way too much, that much she knows, but Padme'd been so excited to go overboard getting her a wardrobe that would match one a spoiled rich girl would have, and Anika couldn't tell her no when she did need help in that regard.
She finishes fastening all the little buttons down the front, sliding gloves on her hands so her prosthetic is covered. No one will see or ask about it now.
"Crosshair, no!" Echo protests, and Anika opens the 'fresher door, biting her lip so she doesn't laugh at Echo's predicament.
Crosshair had been convinced that if Anika could use makeup – which Padme gave her – to cover up her scar, he could use it on Echo to make him look less "reg-like" in his words. Echo is still protesting, and Anika sort of feels bad for him. Crosshair has never seen makeup in his life, and it is not like paint and nor can it be applied like it. Comming Tech was probably also a bad idea, since he just went onto a two-hour speech about how makeup is theoretically applied and how Crosshair ought to do it.
His first attempt looked so awful they had to wash it off, and then, Anika took pity on Echo and commed Padme with a secure connection for help. She's been trying to give Crosshair instructions ever since, but it only seems to be half-working. Also, there's the fact that Crosshair keeps coming up with increasingly outlandish suggestions. He even suggested purple contact lenses so someone might think Echo's a Mandalorian who just so happens to resemble the clones. Echo vetoed it so quickly that Hunter had choked on a laugh.
Padme's not on the line anymore, and Crosshair is kneeling in front of Echo, makeup supplies scattered on the bed next to him.
"I'll take it off," Echo continues firmly, and Anika realizes what they were discussing. His scomp. It sticks out too much, and it's too short of notice for them to get a prosthetic arm.
"If that's what you want to do, we'll go with that," Hunter says before Crosshair can open his mouth. Anika doesn't want to know what he suggested.
"I'm going to need some help," Anika tells them, picking up her elaborate hairpiece. All three turn to her, and she doesn't know what to make of the way Echo's eyes widen when he sees her.
"Looks good." Hunter holds out a hand. "I can help."
Crosshair scrambles to his feet. "I can, too."
Anika pointedly looks at his hands. "I don't know why you have green makeup on your fingers, and I don't want to know, but I don't want it in my hair, thank you."
He sulks but steps back, even if he doesn't take his eyes off her hairpiece, admiring it. Anika hands it to Hunter, and he helps her get it in. It doesn't look quite as good as it did when Padme put it in, but it's good enough. Probably no one will notice if a few hairs are out of place.
The wedding ceremony is held in the garden under the moons. Anika doesn't know if Arym picked the location because of its ceremonial value or a strategic one. There are outdoor lights, but mostly, the light is from the overhead moons, meaning that the shadows are deep enough no one can clearly see Echo's face. With Crosshair's – very unprofessional but still passable – makeup job on his face, it alters enough that someone would have to realize he's a clone to guess it, especially with the obvious prosthetic implants on his head.
The Lunians loaned him clothing to wear, and the ceremonial outfit he's in suits him.
"This isn't even real," Anika whispers to Hunter, who's at her side. Echo is standing on the other side of the courtyard with Crosshair as Arym and the other Lunian leaders begin the marriage ceremony. "I don't know why I'm so nervous."
He half-smiles. "I've never been married," he answers, and his humor is unmistakable, "So I couldn't say, but when I took my squad out on our first mission, I was terrified. It was new, unexpected. I was excited, but I was afraid I'd mess it up."
Somehow, the one part of the ceremony that Anika hadn't even thought about was the part where she'd have to kiss Echo. In her defense, she's never been to a wedding before.
For a panicked moment, she freezes, staring at Echo. He holds her eyes, and then, he leans in, kissing her. It's careful, uncertain, hesitant, but it still floods her with a fluttering warmth. Her heart is pounding hard enough that she knows Hunter can sense it. They break apart, and she squeezes his hand.
Cheers break out, the celebrating and well-wishing beginning.
And overhead, three of the moons are bright and full while the other two are a deep red. It's beautiful, the Force fluxing and twisting around them, magnifying it all, and Anika knows, somehow, that this is exactly where she's meant to be.
"You could have warned me," Crosshair hisses, petulant. "I'm never going to unsee that."
He's just being – well, him, and Anika grins. "Where's the fun in that, Crosshair?" She leans into Echo's side, and he wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close.
"Ugh," he says, rolling his eyes. "You natborns are so weird."
"I'll take that as a compliment," she answers sweetly.
"It is," Hunter assures. He's smirking. "Incidentally, I found out from Tech that a marriage officiated on Luna XI can only be nullified by the planet's leaders."
Anika goes very still, turning wide eyes to Echo. "Oh," she says faintly.
Echo looks just as startled, which means Hunter must have been deliberately keeping it to himself. It's not as if they could have gotten out of it anyway, but still. A warning would have been nice.
She chews on her lower lip. "I think the Council could excuse it, since we didn't have a choice." But it makes her worry about whether or not she'll see Echo again once this is over. She doesn't – she doesn't feel like that toward him. … Does she?
"Or," Crosshair adds, "We could just not tell anyone."
"Lie on an official report?" Echo asks, scandalized.
"How's that any worse than marrying a Jedi?" Hunter teases.
Anika sighs. "Let's deal with it in the morning. We're supposed to be celebrating, remember?"
They don't talk about it again, and as dawn approaches, as the last bits of red fade from the two moons, everyone starts streaming away for their quarters, exhausted and mostly intoxicated. Anika didn't drink much, and nor did the clones, because they couldn't afford to lose control of themselves, but she still feels light in a way she didn't expect.
She and Echo don't talk as they crawl onto the bed and fall asleep, too exhausted to need words.
When they wake up, it's mid-morning, and her head is resting on his shoulder. Echo's already awake, his gaze distant and focused on the ceiling. It warms something in her that he didn't pull away. "What's on your mind?" she asks through a yawn, stretching.
"What will you tell the Council?" he queries.
"I don't know," she answers, "I don't want them to know." Because it'll mean they'll judge her.
"You can tell them the truth," Echo tells her. "It's not real." There's something dark in his voice, almost bitter, and she pauses when she hears it, trying to understand.
"Do you want it to be real?" she questions curiously. She doesn't pull away from him, her arm still slung across his body.
"I don't know," he replies, "Doesn't matter anyway. You're a Jedi, and I'm – I'm not even –" He cuts himself off, the bitterness growing sharper as he turns his head away, toward the window on the other side of the room.
"You're not what?" Anika is careful to keep her voice soft, gentle. She doesn't want to push him away, but she needs to know. This is probably as much of a later as she'll get, and she wants to talk to him.
Echo's quiet for a long few minutes before sighing heavily. "I'm not even human anymore, General. I'm more a droid than I am a person."
Something twists inside of her at his words, and she tightens her arm, pressing closer to him. "That's not true, Echo." Her voice is fiercer than she means it to be. "It doesn't matter what they did to your body. You're still a person. I'm not any less human for having lost my arm, no matter what some might say. If I wouldn't have chosen to marry you, it wouldn't be because you're any less human than I am. It would be because I'm your superior, and it wouldn't be right."
Echo swallows, and his eyes are wet when he looks back at her. "I – thank you, General."
"Call me Anika," she says without thinking about it. "At least right now."
He hesitates. "If that's what you want… Anika."
She likes him saying her name. If she could, she'd ask all her boys to call her by name instead of by title. She wants to be one of them. She wants to belong with them, fully and completely. "I know it's hard to lose parts of yourself," she admits. "It gets easier in time, but… I can't say it'll ever fully go away. Sometimes, I still miss being able to feel things in my hand other than pressure, and I can't imagine what it would be like to lose so much."
His eyes are haunted. "It's just as much knowing what they had me to as it is what they made me into. I did… so much."
She shifts, reaching for his hand with her prosthetic. She can't really feel it much, but she hopes it'll be enough to help him. "It wasn't your fault, Echo," she promises, "None of it was."
"Maybe –" he starts.
Anika squeezes his hand. "No," she says again, "They used you. That's not on you."
He doesn't look as though he believes her, even when he nods slowly.
In the end, she can't say why she does it, only that she does. It just – feels right. She presses her palm to his face, touching his jaw as she leans over and kisses him. He's frozen for a moment before he disentangles his hand from hers, pulling her closer and kissing her back.
"What was that for?" he asks, bemused, when she pulls away.
She shrugs. "I wanted to. It felt right. You're still a person, Echo, still human. I'm happy to be married to you. It's not what I expected, but I'm not upset about it."
Maybe he relaxes a little, she can't tell, and she's not sure if it's because he's accepting her words or if –
Does he care about her like that? She's not exactly sure, and she doesn't want to ask him, either, doesn't know which answer she'd want more.
"You can kiss me, if you want," she tells him, snuggling back against the pillow, facing him. "I mean, we are married." She snorts. "I never thought I'd say that, but I did think about it. Being married, I mean."
"Really?" There's a flash of something from Echo that she doesn't pick up on. "Did you have someone in mind?"
Anika flushes a bit, despite herself. "I always thought I'd marry a clone, one day, after the war, when I didn't have to outrank him. I guess it's a good thing you're not part of the 501st anymore."
He huffs an amused breath, turning onto his side to face her, resting his scomp on her hip. "Yeah, I guess it is."
They're married – not by their own free will, but still, they're married. Echo's her husband. It's such a strange surreal thing, something Anika can't quite wrap her mind around. Maybe she ought to be a bit discontented with that, that she didn't get to choose, but strangely, she only feels content here, with Echo next to her. Maybe they already care for each other like that, and they have yet to realize it, maybe they're just beginning to develop those feelings, Anika doesn't know, but she does know that she isn't going to let Echo go. She's not going to let the Council, or anyone, separate them.
They're family. Literally. They're tied together now, for forever, and Anika wouldn't want it any other way. All she's ever wanted is a family, a place she belongs, and with Echo, she now has both.
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