Archive of Our Own ^beta

It had been a quiet few weeks for the Batch – life on Pabu was treating them well. They had a roof over their heads and three square meals a day, they could afford to indulge in the simpler luxuries in life now. Something Hunter hadn’t had on the cards for his family during their time ‘scavenging like rats’ as Crosshair had so eloquently put it. Not having to watch their backs or calculate every move they made gave the Batch more free time than they had ever had before. 

Wrecker had taken up fishing, waking up before his brothers and Omega every morning to catch some fish for breakfast with nothing but the rising sun as his companion. Hunter spent most of his days helping the civilians of Pabu rebuild what was lost to the tsunami – rebuilding huts, replanting fruits and vegetables, anything to keep himself busy. It was nice, Hunter thought, not using his hands as a weapon anymore. 

Omega had taken to the skies, insisting that Tech would have wanted her to continue with his lessons. None of the Batch had it in them to argue otherwise when their brilliant Tech was mentioned. She had also argued many times that, whilst their new ship was no Marauder, they couldn't have her sitting stagnant collecting dust. 

Crosshair was…well, Crosshair. As quiet as ever. Seemingly having more conversations with himself in his own head than he did his brothers and sister. He hadn’t seemed to adjust to retirement as well as his siblings, it was a subject that Hunter, and even Omega, had tried to broach with their youngest brother. Only to be met with scoffs or grunts and the occasional grumbled insistence of ‘I’m fine’. 

Tonight though, Crosshair seemed antsier than ever. His gaze frequently slid to the front door of their shared home on Lower Pabu. Drumming the fingers of his good hand against the surface of the wooden table that separated him from his siblings. 

“He’ll be here soon, Crosshair. You’re not usually so…twitchy.” Omega said as she reached across the slab of wood for her brother's hand. Frowning when Crosshair snatched his hand away as if she had burnt him. A flash of guilt and silent apology twinged in Crosshair’s eyes before lowering his head, cradling his hand in his lap. 

“I’m not twitchy.” 

Crosshair was never this closed off with Omega, hadn’t been for some time. The Batch had hoped that a peaceful life in Pabu would bring their youngest a sense of comfort. Space to grow and heal. But the former sniper seemed to be going backwards quicker than he was forwards.

“Aw, cmon Cross! I’m sure he’s missed you too!” Wrecker laughed from where he sat besides Hunter, a ceramic mug between his large hands. One that he’d picked up from one of the local market stalls a few weeks ago after one of many bountiful fishing trips. 

The table rumbled beneath them, plates and glasses rattling as Wrecker stood with a gasp. Already stepping towards the door as it swung open he bundled his older brother into his arms, scooping him up with ease. 

“Echo!” Wrecker laughed again, setting the former ARC trooper down he wiped at a tear that had slid down his cheek.

“I haven’t been gone for that long.” Echo chuckled, patting Wrecker’s upper arm. After Clone Force 99 took Echo in, he had been hesitant towards most physical contact. Very aware of the fact that when one of his brothers touched him they'd likely be met with cold metal rather than the flesh and blood they expected. Until Omega. Until he saw the innocent delight in her features at being able to hug her brother when he returned home for the first time after he joined Rex. 

His siblings' happiness far outweighed his feelings of self consciousness. 

Like every time before, Echo crouched down to Omega’s height as she scurried over to him like a little Tooka. 

“Hey kid.” He smiled into blonde hair, pulling her close Echo rubbed her back gently.

“Echo!” Omega smiled up at him. She had grown since the last time he saw her, Echo noted. 

“Have you been good?” He asked, glancing towards Hunter for confirmation when Omega scoffed in faux annoyance and declared she had been on her best behaviour. As he stood, Echo lifted Omega with him. Resting his sister on his hip as he walked over to Hunter, placing a hand on his shoulder as he passed. “Good to see you, vod.” Echo nodded. 

“You too, Cross.” Echo added as he sat beside Crosshair. Fussing over Omega gently who still clung to him, he pushed some blonde hair from her face and teased that she needed a haircut, only to be told that Omega did not want to be bald like her brother. The comment made the brothers laugh – most of them anyway. 

Echo noticed almost instantly that Crosshair appeared to be more withdrawn than normal. A few months ago this wouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary, in fact, it would have been concerning if he was anything other than aloof. But the Crosshair that Echo had spoken to when he last visited was…so full of life. Partaking in the shared banter between his siblings. 

“Yeah…nice to see you too Echo.” Crosshair spoke after a moment. Echo studied Cross, his eyebrow arching when the sniper met his gaze. Wordlessly asking if he was okay. Decidedly not, if the sudden aversion of his gaze was anything to go by. Echo wouldn’t press for answers. Not right now anyway – he’d give Crosshair the chance to open up himself first. 

Crosshair had always been a constant for Echo, a firm hand. Someone who Echo relied on similarly to how he had relied on Fives before his time with the Techno Union. The two had grown impossibly closer after the Batch settled on Pabu. They had agreed to take ‘one last mission’, before retiring for good – well, not Echo. The Batch had taken one more bounty which led them to a particularly cold planet off the Outer Rim. 

The brothers had noticed Crosshair’s increase in snide remarks and downright rudeness as him worrying. He was tense and on edge, flexing and clenching his good hand. Crosshair had insisted on partnering up with Echo for this assignment. His distaste for regs long since forgotten when around Echo. There was an unspoken respect and trust between them. Even after Crosshair’s mistakes.

“You’re shivering.”

“Are your cybernetics okay?”

“You’re freezing…”

Crosshair had fussed uncharacteristically over Echo, never straying too far from his brother's side. Hissing quietly in panic, Echo assumed, when the cold finally short circuited one of his legs and jammed it in place. The Batch had all been thoroughly briefed and shown by Tech what to do should Echo start experiencing issues with his cybernetics when on the battlefield. Though none of them had ever had to do it aside from Tech. Until that last assignment. 

Crosshair had been jittery, his voice frantic as he commed Hunter and gave their sarge their coordinates. Requesting an immediate pick up as he helped lower Echo to the snowy powder beneath them. Muttering that this ‘ osik'la snow was not taking another brother from him’. 

Echo had been fine – he even joked that he ran cold now after being fitted with so many prosthetics. That he was used to being cold. That the snow wasn’t that bad. Each attempt at lifting Crosshair’s worry only served to earn another murderous glare. Each one making Echo visibly cringe.

Echo had pressed for answers when the two were safely on board their ride out of there, trusting Crosshair to remove the cybernetics posing as ice shards as he tried his best to warm up. Only after having another blanket tossed at him by the sniper did he finally explain. His voice was quiet – Echo wasn’t sure Crosshair had revealed this to anyone. 

Mayday.

Mayday was the brother Crosshair had already lost to the baltic weather. The reason the usually calm and stoic clone was so terror stricken when the joint of Echo’s knee had frozen to a shuddering halt. 

“Ha! Dinner’s ready, look at the size of this one!” Wrecker’s voice yanked Echo from his thoughts, scrunching his nose slightly as he focused on the present. On the concerningly noiseless clone beside him. 

“Woah! That’s huge, Wrecker!” Omega still held that childish awe to her tone, one that Echo hoped she wouldn’t ever lose. Though he knew the galaxy was never that fair. The former ARC trooper only noticed then that Omega had untangled herself from him.

Echo’s gaze slid over to Crosshair, his posture hunched. The stump of his right arm lay cradled in his lap – his left hand protectively covering the appendage. Crosshair looked far away, further away than Echo had been a few moments ago. Clearing his throat, Echo nudged his brother gently and offered a small smile. Squeezing his fingers against Crosshair’s knee, his gaze lingering. 

“Cross–”

“I’m fine, Echo.” Crosshair grunted, leaning away from Echo he batted the hand against his knee away.

Definitely not fine, Echo decided. But he didn't push.

Plates stacked with fish and steaming vegetables were set down one at a time. Notes of seaweed and salt wafted up into Echo’s nostrils, making him shudder with familiarity. With how at home he felt sharing a simple meal with his brothers and sister. Echo’s appetite had never fully recovered after the techno union tore him to pieces, oftentimes eating because he had to rather than because he wanted to. But he would admit – it was nice to have a full belly. Coming across food whilst he and Rex traversed from system to system in the Remora, sometimes months at a time, was not always an easy feat. 

The small dining room was filled with easy chatter, Wrecker and Omega asking a million and one questions about Echo’s recent endeavours. Where had he been? How many brothers did he rescue? How’s Rex? Each question was met with a small nod of his head and an even smaller smile.

The constant noise was reminiscent of Fives. Oh, Fives. How he would have loved the Batch. 

As the evening grew darker, Crosshair grew more closed off. Only speaking to excuse himself once the laughter had fizzled out and the plates had been emptied. Hunter stepped towards his brother, the deep crease between thick brows told Echo that their sergeant was also worried about Crosshair. 

“I’ll go, Hunter.” Echo said as he stood, rolling his neck slightly he met Hunter’s gaze. Giving the clone a firm nod. 

“Mhm…alright.” Hunter grunted.

The cool breeze of Pabu hit Echo the moment he stepped out onto the balcony, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the inky sky settling over the horizon. Had Echo not known Crosshair was out here he would have missed him. Crosshair’s slender flame was tucked against the corner of the balustrading, wooden toothpick passing over the ridges of his teeth. The former sniper finally turned his head to meet Echo’s gaze, and for a moment, he felt pinned down by such an icy scowl. 

“Cross.” Echo raised his hand and scomp in a display of surrender, brows furrowing. His brother hadn’t been this stand offish the last time he saw him, stars even the last time Echo commed his brother he seemed in a better headspace than whatever this was.

“What’s–”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Echo. I’m tired. Go away.” Crosshair hadn’t taken such a dismissive tone with Echo since, well, ever. Yes he could be abrasive and rough around the edges but Crosshair had always been gentle around Echo, at least by his standards. Even going so far as to threaten the regs back on Kamino when they would stare too long at the half cyborg. 

“Crosshair,” Echo said firmly. He would let his brother sulk. He would let his brother be despondent. But Echo would not let him slip back into the self-destructive ways he had been warned about on Tantiss. “I’ll go. But you can come to me for anything, right? Tell me anything? Whatever it is, Crosshair. I’m here for you.” Echo promised, his voice even. 

When he was met with the same pointed glare as earlier Echo gave a singular nod and backed off. Turning with a sigh he stepped back inside the hut – the previously bustling dining room was silent. The seats that were occupied just a few moments ago were left vacant – everyone had called it a night, Echo guessed. 

Everyone except himself and Crosshair.

Well, Echo would try and get some rest at the very least. Letting out a weary sigh he scrubbed his hand over his face and made his way over towards his bedroom. Echo had insisted upon taking the smallest of the rooms, it wasn’t like he was here frequent enough to reap the benefits of a larger space. 

Nudging his scomp against the door, Echo paused. Glancing off to the door neighbouring his own. 

Tech’s room. 

Or at least, his would-be-room. Omega had insisted they create a space for Tech, what few belongings they had that belonged to their late brother were stored inside. His data pad, goggles, a few spare wrenches that had been lying around the Marauder. One of these days Echo half expected to see the computer specialist come bustling out the room with a grand exclamation or discovery that he absolutely needed to share. 

But at most, he was lucky enough to see Omega leaving that room every now and then. Tech’s goggles around her neck, eyes bleary and bloodshot. 

Tech’s absence was devastating. They all felt it.

Pushing the door open Echo moved inside the room. It was how he left it – for the most part. Echo’s lips quipped up into a lopsided grin, spotting Lula against one of his pillows. Omega had apparently slept in his room at some point, too. 

His room was sparse, a wilting plant sat on the windowsill. A few tools and spare parts for his cybernetics lay in one of the corners. His bed had enough blankets and sheets for Echo to be able to open his own fabric shop should he want to. Not that he did – not if he wanted to keep warm. Regulating his temperature had become increasingly more difficult with the sheer amount of metal fused to his bones. 

In the corner was a hammock. Something he had only started sleeping on when he first joined Clone Force 99, the brothers didn’t exactly have enough space for a fifth body in their quarters, or the Marauder for that fact. He made do, though. On nights when the cybernetics intertwined with the facet joints of his spine nipped uncomfortably, Echo found the hammock to be marginally gentler than the mattress.

Slowly, Echo removed the pieces of his armour section at a time. Glancing towards the holopic of him and the Batch that occupied the small bedside table as he stacked his armour by the foot of the bed, letting out a quiet huff as he sat on the edge.

Scrubbing his hand over his face he lowered his fingers to his mechanical knee. Gaze snapping up when a quiet knock on the door was followed by it inching open.

“Crosshair…” Well, this was a surprise. 

The former sniper lingered in the doorway for a moment, his hand cupped protectively over his stump. 

“I uh…” Crosshair’s voice was low, unsure.

“You can come in, Cross.” Echo said gently, patting the space next to him with his scomp. 

The offer was met with a grunt and for a moment it didn’t seem as if his brother would take it. But he stepped away from the doorframe and into the dimly lit room. Wordlessly he sat beside Echo. 

“Have you been sleeping?” Echo asked, frowning when he noticed just how tired Crosshair looked. His eyes almost desaturated with what he assumed was exhaustion. 

Crosshair shook his head, drumming his fingers against the residual limb. Echo didn’t speak, eyebrows knitting together in disconcert. Whilst he didn’t want to press Crosshair for answers – his brother was alarmingly quiet and the longer this stretched on, the more uneasy Echo felt. 

“The pain…” Crosshair started, voice thick with despondence. “It’s too much. It’s suffocating…I know it’s just my hand but it's agonising. I feel like, like some days it's so consuming that I can't–” The clones' usually tight voice wavered and then cracked. 

Echo swore he felt his heart mirroring the notion.

“Cross…” Echo leant closer, circling his arm around slender shoulders he pulled Crosshair into him. Barely catching the glint of moonlight reflecting the swell of tears in his eyes. This was…jarring. Off the top of his head Echo couldn’t remember ever seeing Crosshair cry. Sure, he’d comforted a crying Hunter one night when a mission went sideways and landed Tech and Cross in the medbay back on Kamino. He’d rubbed the back of a sick Wrecker just a short while ago who cried with discomfort. But Crosshair? Crosshair never cried.

“You’re okay…I’ve got you.” Echo promised, his hand coming to the back of Crosshair’s head. 

The former ARC trooper wasn’t sure how long he sat with his brother trembling in his arms. Occasionally, Echo would rub his scomp over Crosshair’s back and press chaste kisses against his head. Waiting for the choked sobs to surrender to quiet sniffles and hitched breaths.

“There we go…you’re alright. You’re okay. Deep breaths, Cross.” Echo whispered. Pulling back slightly he held Crosshair by the shoulders, getting a good look at his brother and his painstricken face. “Here…” Echo reached over for the rag he typically used to clean his prosthetics. But it was all he had to hand, it would do. 

“Talk to me, Cross. Please .” Echo whispered as he dabbed at the tear stained cheeks with the cleanest corner of the rag. 

“My hand – it’s gone but it's excruciating.” 

“Phantom pains.” Echo supplied, sighing quietly. They were unpleasant at best and debilitating at worst. The half cyborg knew all too well.

“What?” Crosshair snapped, wincing at his own tone. But Echo knew not to take it personally – his brother was in pain. And lots of it it seemed. 

“Phantom pains.” He repeated, gently this time. “They’re normal, so I've been told. Different for everyone who loses a limb but…I get it.” 

“How do I stop it? I can’t just put up with it anymore.” Crosshair had never sounded so deflated. Even when he felt his brothers had abandoned him for Omega. There had never been such an ache to his tone. 

Humming, Echo nodded once. Recalling a similar conversation he had with Rex after being rescued from the Techno Union. Waking up to discover he’d been torn apart and stitched back together with more metal than flesh had been sickening. Whilst yes, he was grateful to be alive, coming to terms with the fact he was essentially a cyborg was a grueling process. 

One he would not wish on anyone. Least of all any of his brothers. 

“Meditation is supposed to be–” Echo trailed off when another pointed glare was sent his way. “Got it. Tried that already with Omega?” He guessed. 

“Perhaps on my next supply run off world I can pick up some medication to try and relieve the pain? I heard mirror therapy is supposed to be good, too. Exercise too, are you keeping warm enough? The cold doesn’t help.” Echo continued. 

“When I wear my prosthetics the phantom pains aren’t as bad…it’s still there, but it's more of a dull ache I guess. Prosthetics are–”

“No.” Crosshair grunted, shaking his head he scowled at Echo.

“No?”

“I don’t want one.” Crosshair said matter of factly. The bluntness of the statement made Echo’s eyebrows knit together, he knew the former sniper could be as stubborn as a bantha but he had dug his heels in so quickly it left Echo more concerned than annoyed by the rebuttal. 

“But you–”

“I don't. Want one.” 

“Crosshair.” Echo said firmly. He wanted to help his brother – Crosshair had sought him out. He needed help whether he agreed or not. “What’s this about? You know Hunter told me about what you said before you three stormed Tantiss. That you deserved to go alone. That you deserved to die.” Echo recalled, swallowing he gripped Crosshair’s arm gently and squeezed. 

“Is that what this is?” Echo guessed, leaning closer when Crosshair dipped his head. Bingo . “You don’t think you deserve a new hand?” Echo’s eyes were wide, bewildered by the thought of his little brother continually suffering.  “Why?” His voice was gentle this time, pleading with Crosshair to give him something to work with.

“Because…” Crosshair’s voice was quiet, wavering with misery. He wasn’t going to explain himself – he wasn’t . But he saw the persistence in his brother's eyes, one that told him Echo was not dropping this until he got answers. 

“Omega is traumatised because of me. Tech died because of me. Tech doesn’t get to have a quick fix, he doesn’t get to be fitted with cybernetics and give things a second chance, so why should I?” Crosshair trembled slightly as he spoke, his gaze far away. “If Tech isn’t the one to run those stupid maintenance check ups on the prosthetic hand, then I don’t want it.”

Ah. There it was. 

“Cross…” Echo breathed. “Tech wouldn’t want you to suffer, you know that. He’d be calling you a di'kut and a or'dinii. I’d be happy to do maintenance for you. I know it’s not the same…” Echo knew all too well that no matter how often you tried to fill the void left behind by those you loved, the sting would swallow you whole the moment your guard dropped.

Echo loved the Batch. They were his family and welcomed him with open arms. Gave him space to grow and get a handle on life after being shoddily pieced back together. 

But the Batch were not Fives.

Echo was not Tech.

“If we get you fitted with a cybernetic, it might trick your brain into thinking the limb is flesh and bone. It might lessen the pain?”

Crosshair was silent, pulling his arm from Echo’s grip. 

“All we can do is try.” Echo urged gently. “You don’t deserve to live in pain for the rest of your life just because you feel like you deserve it. You’re not the brains of the Batch for a reason, eh Cross.” Echo nudged him with his scomp gently. Smiling softly in an attempt to cheer the former sniper up. 

“How would I even get one? It’s not like we’re sitting on a chest of credits.” 

“I can arrange something.” Echo promised, lifting his chin a touch he gave a crooked smile. Crosshair was finally accepting help – and despite wanting to make a big deal out of it he knew Crosshair would only build those walls back up if he did. 

“How–”

“I’ll handle it, Cross. Trust me. I have contacts all over the galaxy, I'm sure I can find something for you.” Echo wondered how long Crosshair had been keeping this to himself. How much sleep he had lost tossing and turning at night, blaming himself for Tech and Omega. 

“You’re allowed to move on from your mistakes, yknow Cross? None of us hold it against you…you need to let go, too. Omega adores the very ground you walk on, she has since day one. We’ve all failed her in one way or another but, she’s happy, Cross. She is. Have you not seen the way she looks at you? Omega’s a tough kid, Cross. You know this. She loves you, we all do.” Echo whispered. 

“Tech loved you.” Echo added.

Silence engulfed the brothers as Crosshair replayed Echo’s words over and over in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad if he agreed to the prosthetic. Maybe, wherever Tech was in the afterlife, he was encouraging Crosshair to go ahead with the fitting of a cybernetic. 

“I should go.” Crosshair muttered, glancing over at the holopic of him and his brothers settled atop the small bedside table.

“Nah. You can stay here, I’ll take the hammock. Get some rest.” Echo said, patting Crosshair’s shoulder as he stood up. 

“Echo…” 

“Yeah, Cross?” Echo asked as he yawned, lifting himself into the hammock he rolled onto his side. Stretching out a touch his gaze slid towards Crosshair. Watching as the clone lay down and nestled into the many blankets. Catching sight of the clone tucking the familiar black and red stuffie under his chin, pulling Lula close.

“Thank you.” Crosshair whispered. 

“Mhm, welcome.” The corners of Echo’s lips quipped up slightly in a lopsided grin, deft fingers made quick work of unclipping the implant wrapping around his head. 

“Goodnight, Cross.” 

“Goodnight, Echo.”