#echo whump

[the-bi-space-ace]

Broken Glass - EchoVember

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Words: 5,379

Summary: Echo's past comes back to haunt him after he breaks something while cleaning the Marauder. The batch try to help.

Ao3 Link: Broken Glass

HEAVY WHUMP READ THE TAGS BEFORE READING THE FIC

tag list: @yolowolf1 @runforrestr @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @julijuli77 @girloffourhouses @blackseafoam @happybean17 @saturn-sends-hugs @phantom-of-the-501st @spicy-tomato-sauce @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @ffdemon

[electrikworm]

Test Subjects: Part 3

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Relationships: Crosshair & Echo & Hunter & Tech & Wrecker

Content Warnings: Blood and injury, Drug Usage, Choking, Emetophobia

Summary:

Echo and Tech catch up to Wrecker, but Wrecker isn't about to go down without a fight.

Word count: 2,296

Read on Ao3

Echo contacts Hunter when they manage to corner Wrecker, only to learn Crosshair's in a similar state. He informs Tech, who sighs.

Tech takes a step towards Wrecker, making Wrecker lurch forwards and take a swing at him, only to press himself against the wall again.

It took them far too long to get him here, trapped in a small storage room. Wrecker cleared out the few droids that had been in there, only to promptly start panicking when he managed to get himself stuck in a corner.

Echo and Tech are in front of him, trapping him between the wall and two shelves. He looks like a scared animal, glancing about frantically and swiping at them blindly. He's still clutching his chest and heaving for air. Echo helped bandage Wrecker's burnt hand, but that's been long bleed through, leaving bloody marks on anything he grasps at. If there's that much blood through layers of bandages and Wreckers blacks, Echo's not sure he wants to know what the skin underneath looks like.

What ever the stims have been contaminated with can't be good. The most likely perpetrator is the separatists, like those reports Echo read about contaminated bacta. So far, the symptoms seem to show that the contamination was made to make soldiers attack their allies, so Echo hopes the stim wasn't designed to kill the user.

Echo can't believe something like this could happen. If this is the kind of quality control the GAR has, Echo's worried for the safety of every soldier. Either that, or they've got separatist spies infiltrating the supply chain.

“Any ideas?” Echo asks. They tried stunning Wrecker and all that did was hurt him by the looks of it, even after four direct hits. Echo isn't willing to try that again unless they run out of ideas. There's no guarantee Wrecker won't be permanently harmed by stunning him in his state.

“He's weakened, our best option may be physically subduing him,” Tech answers.

Echo hates to admit it, but Tech's likely right. With his ARC training, Echo's managed to beat Wrecker countless times when sparing. But Wrecker wasn't trying to kill Echo then and he wasn't desperate either.

“What do we do if we get him down?” Echo asks. It's not like they carry binders on them.

“He may be able to recognize us if he is forced to calm down.” Tech approaches Wrecker slowly, blaster in its holster. Hand to hand combat seems to be the way to go here.

In a sudden burst of speed, Tech launches himself forwards, grabbing hold of Wrecker's arm, trying to twist it behind his back. Wrecker is surprised by the attack, but not long enough for Tech to complete his manoeuvrer.

Echo can see the punch Wrecker's hoping to land on Tech a mile away, moving to block it with his arm.

“Trikayc, vod'ika,“ Echo mutters, knowing his next move is going to be dirty. Using the momentum from blocking Wrecker, Echo connects his foot with the knee of Wrecker's injured leg. It buckles under Wrecker's weight as he grunts in pain.

Just as Echo's about to move out of Wrecker's range, he grabs Echo's chest plate, bringing him down onto the floor as well. The air is knocked out of Echo's lungs and his vision briefly turns black as he hits the ground hard. Echo can't see it, but Tech's pained cry and the crashing that follows tells him that Wrecker got his arm out of Tech's grip.

Wrecker ties to run, but after all the trouble it was to get him trapped here, Echo isn't going to let that happen. He sweeps Wrecker's legs out from under him, standing up in the same move.

Dazed from the impact, Wrecker lays flat on his stomach for a moment. Long enough for Echo to kneel on his back, putting a hand on the back of Wrecker's neck to pin him to the ground. Wrecker's arms flail uselessly, unable to reach Echo as he dodges.

But then Wrecker seems to realize that he has other uses for him arms, bringing them to his side and pushing up off the floor. Far too easily, he shakes Echo off, slamming him into the shelf in the process. Echo thinks he must have hit his head, his surroundings swaying as he lays crumpled on the floor.

Tech did something to draw Wrecker's attention, having cornered himself in the process. To stop Tech from being grabbed, Echo throws the closest item he can reach at Wrecker. The object, previously stored on one of the shelves, appears to be metal by the sound it makes hitting Wrecker's helmet. Wrecker snaps to look at Echo.

Not wasting an opportunity, Tech runs at Wrecker, shouldering him in the chest hard enough to make Wrecker's back hit the shelf. Good thing the shelves have been attached to the floor, Echo thinks to himself as he staggers to his feet.

Wrecker grunts at the impact, is however barely slowed by it. He gets his fingers under Tech's shoulder bells, throwing him by them. Tech slides across the floor, coming to a halt near Echo. There's a bloody handprint on his right shoulder, standing out against the white he's painted it.

“This isn't working,” Echo hisses, making Tech glare up at him from his spot on the floor.

“I am acutely aware of that, Echo,” Tech responds as he uses the shelf to get himself standing.

“What the kriff is in those stims?” Echo asks, keeping a close eye on Wrecker. He's moved back into the corner again. ”He just keeps getting back up again. He's not responding to anything. It's like he can't even see us.”

Despite Wrecker looking weakened and moving sluggishly, there's a seemingly limitless well of energy in him. Echo's certain he and Tech will go down long before Wrecker will.

“I might have an idea,” Tech says, “However, I doubt you will like it.”

“What?” Echo asks, sighing. He quickly learned that the plans the Bad Batch, especially Tech, come up with are an entirely different kind of crazy. What's worse, is that Echo's found that quite suits him. He only wishes Fives were still around to take part in the chaos. He would have loved it.

But when Tech says he thinks Echo won't like a plan, Echo knows better than to doubt the statement.

“You will just have to trust me.” Without elaborating further, Tech charges at Wrecker again.

It takes a moment for Echo's brain to catch up what's happening, simply standing there watching as Tech ends up pressed against the wall by Wrecker. It only then dawns on him that he should intervene.

This time he kicks Wrecker in the back of the knee, making him stagger and drop Tech. He turns to Echo, swinging at him with little to no aim.

“Don't distract him,” Tech spits as he gets up. “I have to try something.”

“And just let you get hurt?” Echo hisses back, dodging a weak kick from Wrecker.

“Trust me,” Tech repeats. He goes for Wrecker's arm again, fumbling with his vambrace. Wrecker gives up trying to hit Echo, instead swiftly closing his hand around Tech's neck. Echo moves to sweep at Wrecker's legs again, but Tech shakes his head, even as Echo can hear him gasping for air.

One of Tech's hands is on Wrecker's, trying to give himself some breathing room, the other is still at the clasp of Wrecker's forearm armor.

Echo doesn't want to ignore Tech's wishes, but he hates having to stand here, just watching the fight Tech's losing. Wrecker wouldn't want this, never. But Echo trusts Tech. He still readies his blaster and stands close. He won't let either of his new brothers die here and he sure as hell isn't going to just watch if it gets to that.

Wrecker's heavy breathing and Tech's struggle for air are suddenly broken by Wrecker's vambrace clattering to the floor. Echo watches in confused silence as Tech starts tapping Wrecker's forearm rhythmical. He taps it twice, pauses shortly, then taps it another two times followed by a longer break. Tech repeats this rhythm over and over.

“What ever you're doing isn't working,” Echo shouts, preparing himself to break the two up.

“It will,” Tech wheezes, barely audible with his neck constricted as it is.

And then Wrecker's shoulders tense and he releases Tech, immediately reaching for him with a shaky hand. When his palm connects with Tech's helmet he gingerly feels about the plastoid. Tech is slumped against the shelf, coughing and clutching his neck.

Echo takes a step forwards, wary of what Wrecker's doing. Evidently Wrecker isn't a fan of the sudden movement. Faster than Echo can react, Wreckers hand covers the front of his helmet, gasping it tightly.

“No,” Tech orders, voice cracking, and for some reason, Wrecker listens. With his visor uncovered again, Echo can see that Tech's tapping Wrecker's arms again.

“What are you doing?” Echo asks. He's never seen any of the Batch do anything similar.

Tech gets to his feet, swaying as he moves, still holding Wrecker's arm, still tapping it. Wrecker stands frozen. “Ah, it's something we did as cadets,” Tech says, “Both to identify one another and reassure each other.”

“You risked your life to bet on Wrecker remembering something you did years ago?” Echo asks.

“It worked, did it not? Besides, we still use it occasionally.” Tech sounds awful, neck likely swelling already. “Could you push his helmet up for me? If this is anything like a regular stim, Wrecker will likely be sick at some point.” Tech doesn't stop tapping Wrecker's arm.

Echo nods, moving slowly as he approaches Wrecker. He still flinches, but doesn't try to hit Echo again.

Wrecker's expression is vacant but fearful, eyes and pupils blown wide. His eye movement as well as breathing is frantic. Blood streams from his nose and mouth in addition to the saliva seeming to coat his chin.

Echo pulls a cloth from his belt pouch. He'd used it to clean the joints of his prosthetics earlier, so he cringes at the oil smeared on it. He uses the cleanest corner to wipe Wrecker's face. It's not exactly sanitary, but it feels wrong to leave his vod covered in his own blood like that.

Wrecker cringes away from his touch, squeezing his eyes closed. Echo apologizes quietly.

“Wrecker's heart rate is alarmingly high and he's running very hot. He also seems to have very limited vision and hearing,” Tech observes.

“Is there something we can do to help him?” Echo asks.

“Getting him to the Marauder is likely the best option,” Tech says, slinging Wrecker's arm over his shoulder. “I will try and keep him focused on me, but we should be ready to deal with him trying to attack again.”

Wrecker leans his head against Tech's helmet. “Tech...” he says, voice slurring.

Echo isn't sure if he should take that as a good sign. Carefully, Echo supports Wrecker from the other side. He grips his blaster tightly. With Tech focused on Wrecker and Wrecker barely conscious, defending them from droids will be Echo's job.

Echo cringes as he sees how heavily Wrecker limps as they start moving, knowing very well that he played a significant role in making his little brother's leg injury worse.

“We got him to calm down,” Echo speaks into his comlink once they're out of the warehouse, “How are things with Crosshair?”

Hunter groans, sounding exhausted. “I got him, but you don't even want to know what a hassle it was.”

“Complain to me about it once we're on the ship.” Echo's comment gets a laugh out of Hunter.

Typically, they can't go long without a break, droids attacking them shortly after Echo's talk with Hunter. Tech manages to shoot and keep Wrecker reasonably calm, but with less accuracy than usual.

The nearby battle clearly affects Wrecker, agitation clear in the way he 's clenching his hands and looking about. It gets worse every time they're faced with enemies.

Echo's head seems to do nothing but worsen either, persistent pain building with their agitated movement. He can feel blood running down the back of his neck, soaking into his blacks.

He can ignore that with ease, he's been through far worse and it's not like headaches are anything new to Echo. But when he's hit with a sudden, intense wave of nausea, Echo has to let go of Wrecker and rush to the side. Years of training make him able to remove his helmet before he's sick.

When his stomach calms its self, Echo feels rather bad for leaving Tech to support Wrecker's weight alone. Tech's barely keeping both of them upright.

“Well I certainly didn't expect you to be the one out of the three of us to throw up first,” Tech says. Echo can't tell is it's supposed to be an observation or a joke.

“I hit my head,” Echo states, wiping his mouth with his hand.

Tech doesn't ask any further questions, letting Echo silently take his place next to Wrecker again. Echo grits his teeth as they continue, urging himself to fight against his body screaming for rest. He sighs in relief when he starts recognizing the corridors again, placing them near the way they entered.

Smaller groups of droids are milling about the area, but significantly less than when they first arrived. Their luck has been abysmal, but Echo is prepared to see this as a win.

Once they're finally out of the base, Echo pats Wrecker's arm. “Just a little further, Wreck'ika, then you can rest,” Echo says, reassuring himself just as much as he's trying to do so for his brother.

Wrecker just groans in response.

Mando'a Translation:

Trikayc – sorry Vod'ika – little sibling 'ika - diminutive suffix, can be added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form

[jedi-lothwolf]

Winter Whumperland Day 1: Santa Claus (Claustrophobe/Panic Attack)

Fandom: Star Wars The Bad Batch

Summary: Echo falls into a hole in a cave while on a mission. Memories of Skako Minor flood his mind.

    Echo had liked small spaces before being captured by the Techno Union. Fives thought he was crazy for it. There was something comforting about small, dark places. Echo never could explain it.

    One wrong step sent him into a panic. 'Watch your step' Tech had said. 'Caves are unpredictable' he said. The cave was dark and cold. Echo would have loved it. He should have.

    Instead he looked around at the small space he found himself in. "Echo!" he heard Wrecker tell out. "You okay!?"

    The clone couldn't find his voice. It caught in the back of his throat and became a sharp breath instead. He looked at the walls of the hole but couldn't find them. He started to slam his hand and scomp into rock. His breathing speed and he wanted to cry.

    It was just a cave. It was just a dark hole in a cave. It was just a memory. It was just cold. It was just him, in a hole, in a cave, his family above him, ready to get him out of there.

    Or was it a pod? Was it just a memory? Was it just a pod he had been trapped in for over a year? Was it just the cold? Was it just him, in a pod, captured by the enemy, his family below him, waiting for him, ready to welcome him home?

    "Echo!" Omega yelled out. But he didn't answer. He just stood there, hyperventilating, terrified of the past. He felt so small and the rock wall felt like it was closing in. He didn't even notice when a set of hands pulled him up from his place in the cave.

    "Echo, breath." Hunter spoke. He looked at Tech for answers.

    "Claustrophobe, likely attributed to his time on Skako Minor. Move." Tech practically kicked Hunter out of the way before kneeling down in front of Echo. "He is having a panic attack. I will deal with it."

    Tech looked at the man in front of him. He felt uneasy but felt the others would be incapable of helping Echo breath calmly. Still, he wondered if he was the best person to take care of him.

    The clone stood in front of his brother. "What you are feeling is scary, but not dangerous. Focus on your breathing not the memory." Echo looked up at him. "You need to breathe slowly." Tech started to slowly to encourage him to do the same.

    Slowly Echo started to breathe earlier. "Can you tell me five things you can see?" Tech asked patiently. Echo looked around.

    "Tech I don't think that's going to he-"

    "Hush" Tech cut off Hunter. "Now tell me five things you see."

    Echo looked around. "There's some, Stalactites, some standing water, bats, yo-you, and the others."

    "Good job. How about four things you hear? Can you do that."

    "Well I hear you" Echo slightly chuckled. He was still so tense. His breathing was slower but still irregular. "There's water dripping into that puddle, the bats, and the humming of the, the light."

    "Good. You are doing good. Now can you tell me three things you can smell?"

    Hunter and Wrecker watched the two. They didn't know that Tech could be so, gentle? Omega stayed near Hunter.

    "It's musky, the cave water, and the cologne Phee gave you." He sort of smiled, "it sort of smells like Kamino."

    Tech smiled softly. "Two things you can feel."

    "The rocks are kind of smooth." Echo reached out to Tech, "and you."

    "One thing you can taste?"

    "The smell of the cave." Echo sighed. He felt safe again. He was just a man, in a cave, with his family.

    "Can I do anything for you?" Tech asked calmly.

    "You already have." Tech helped Echo up. "Thank you Tech."

    "It is no problem. We need to finish the mission now. Do you think you will be alright?"

    "Yeah, I think I will."

[madpencil]

Febuwhump 2023

Day 8: Panic

Title: Home

Words: 766

Characters: Echo, Hunter, unnamed droids. (The Bad Batch

Warning: Panic Attack

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Echo lie on the table while a few droids stared down at him. He was on Kamino. They were putting the finishing touches on his metallic features. They had been switched out from separatist to republic models but still needed a few final adjustments. The trooper hadn't been awake in the event they needed to do anything with his back or head. If he moved during that time it wouldn't have been good.

Slowly the soldier started to wake. Bright lights burned his eyes and he began to take in the information his eyes gave him. Droids were above him. They were doing something to him. Echo jolted up and pressed himself onto the wall. No more experiments. He couldn't take any more experiments.

"Ct-1409, please lay back down." The droid stoke robotically. Echo didn't hear him speak and started to look for an exit. His breathing sped and he shook violently. Memories from Skako Minor came flooding back and he tried to escape. The droids moved to restrain him and he cried out as he fought. Metal arms were stronger than flesh ones that were still getting used to moving again and they held him tightly.

Hunter had already become fond of Echo so he waited outside. He was levelheaded and was generally a pleasant person. He had heard some of the struggle but only came in when Echo screamed. Before he wondered if it was intruding but now the sargent had to intervene.

When he came in Echo was haphazardly squirming under the droids cold hands and practically begging they not touch him. He could hardly breathe. The ARC trooper was so far into his mind he didn't know they were trying to help. In his mind he was still on Skako minor and they were attempting to run more experiments on him. He was back to being an inhuman tool for the separatists instead of safe on Kamino.

"Hey! Let him go. I'll handle it." Hunter told the three health aids that had been trying to force Echo back onto his back. They complied and Echo immediately backed into the wall again. His breathing was now nearly nonexistent and beads of sweat formed on his skin. He seemed somewhere else.

Echo was cold. His chest hurt and so did everything else. He felt the familiar pain of frostbite and metal clamps. The man's eyes darted around and he shook like an quaking leaf in strong winds. Everything blurred so he could just see the yellowish light of Skako Minor.

Hunter started to approach slowly whoke thinking of what to say. He wasn't really familiar with this type of event. Sure, he had helped his brothers through breakdowns but this? This seemed different.

"Hey Echo. It's okay. You're safe." He stated while keeping the same slow manner. It seemed the setting was what had triggered him. A medical ward with droids. Sounds like something the separatists would do. His words didn't seem to do much so he continued trying.

"It's okay. We're on Kamino Echo." He reached Echo and paused. He still didn't seem aware of his surroundings. Hunter didnt want to touch him incase he startled.

"Echo. They can't touch you here. I'll make sure of it." This time Echo looked at Hunter. He moved his hand slightly and Hunter reached to hold it. Both of their hands were calloused and scarred. Echo moved slightly to allow his sargent to sit next to him. Hunter could hear the other's heart was beating much faster than it should be. His breathing only slightly improved and he still shook horribly.

Slowly the soldier started to lean into Hunter's side. Hunter was warm and everything else was cold. Hunter was good.

"Breathe with me?" The good asked. Echo nodded swiftly and the two began the exercise. It took a moment before the two were in sync but they got there.

"Thanks Hunter." Echo couldn't meet him eyes but he could thank him. Shame rose and his cheeks turned red as he fully realized what happened. He hadn't been a member of Clone Force Ninety-Nine a week yet and already he created a bad impression.

"No problem. Just glad you're alright." Hunter stood and sat in a chair in the corner. He didn't seem to think any less of the trooper. The droids came back and Echo looked slightly nervous.

"I'll be here the whole time." The sargent comforted. It worked and the other seemed slightly more at ease. This was the watery planet of Kamino. He was safe and with his brother. He was home.

[powdered-kneecaps]

Idk how to preface fics but I'm halfway through a wholesome Echo sketch so instead of posting that I'm gonna hurt him for 15 minutes :)

I haven't written in a long time n never for this fandom so excuse any little discrepancies please

_____

Echo-centric, pre-tbb/post-tcw.s7e4, 3rd person, short fic

Whump, hurt/no comfort, cw for blood, nausea, + vomit

He should have stumbled, as his stomach churned and a wave of nausea spread through his chest. He should have buckled in his weak, malnourished body. But the durasteel legs held fast, stubborn and unmoving. Unmoving. They wouldn't move.

    A fresh creeping panic took over as echo tried to get the unfamiliar legs to respond, to let him sink to the floor and feel the cool tile relieve the ever-present ache in his bones. They remained still. The frustration and anxiety welled up into an anguished cry and echo struck at the motionless prosthetics in desperation to feel something. To hurt them.

   But he felt nothing. Even as the blunt force of his scomp arm left a deep gouge in the already scarred flesh that gave way to metal. Even as that metal sparked when the scomp made contact and burned tiny pink marks into his nerveless skin. But he fell forward. The legs gave way just enough for echo to collapse against the sink in the smallest room of the ship. His hand, though clammy and weak, caught the edge and strained to keep him there. Echo stared for a moment at the ghostly pale skin and the shockingly vivid veins underneath, the tendons that rose too far under his paper skin as he gripped the solid metal sink. His hand began to quake under the effort of keeping him upright, shortly followed by the rest of his body - or what was still flesh - as the nausea fought to make itself known above all other thoughts. His scomp skidded uselessly against the sink as he tried to brace himself, crumpling over the basin as bile reached his throat.

    Echo swallowed in a futile attempt to keep the vomit down, white sparks clouding his vision even with his eyes shut tight. He gasped shakily and swallowed again, the thick feeling at the back of his throat making him gag. His grip on the sink tightened and his jaw clenched to the point of hurting, straining against the building pressure clawing up his body.

    A sudden warmth flooded his face and a minute amount of pressure was relieved. Echo glanced at the dirt-speckled mirror in the dim light, struggling to make out his reflection through his hazy vision. The vibrant red streaks running from his nose, down his lips, and dripping off his chin was unmistakable, splattering haphazardly into the sink and sending specks of blood flying to colour the dry basin in a blooming rust. The few flecks that reached his hand stood out against his skin in mockery of the injuries sustained to his other limbs. This last one, the only one still truly his, was unmarked and whole. Despite his years of training and battle, the bleached-pale skin showed no evidence of his hardship.

    His thoughts were broken by the punching feeling of vomit finally escaping his exhausted barricade and wrenching him forward. He had eaten next to nothing in the last 48 hours - ignoring the blatant concern of his new companions - which he now both regretted and was grateful for. The lack of solid food in his stomach allowed the vomit to pass easily out of him without the sharp tearing feeling he was used to. But the weakness and nausea was worsened by the hunger twisting in his gut.

    He dry heaved a few times before drawing back from his low position above the sink, resting his cheek against his arm still clasped onto the edge. His vision did not return to normal and the shivering that wracked through his whole body only escalated. Echo fixed his gaze on the blood mingling in the sink with the contents of his stomach and lost himself in the swirling red dissipating into the acrid liquid. His nose stung with the bitter and metallic scents but he did not move away, only meekly lifting his right arm to turn the faucet on and wash away the evidence of his weakness. The grating sound of metal on metal snapped his attention to the tap and the scomp that rest against it. It took a moment to recognise the shape as his own arm but slowly, Echo pressed the scomp against the tap and watched water begin to trickle out. He listened to the pipes behind the wall groan as water spiralled around the basin and cleaned out the mess of red and pale yellow.

    He lowered himself onto the floor with effort and rested his side against the wall, the sound of running water hiding that of his ragged breathing. Blood still ran down his face, smeared across his cheek from his brief respite laying against his arm. He trailed his gaze down his arm to the patch of drying blood that stuck to his skin, then to his hand still trembling and now aching. He studied the flecks of blood across his hand and the dull red stuck under his fingernails - old blood that matched the crusted scabs on his legs from clawing at them hours ago.

    A defeated whine escaped him as exhaustion took over. He was too weak to stand or even stem the blood flow from his nose, so Echo sat still, heaving breaths and fighting back sobs. Stars floated in his vision as he slumped his head against the wall and resolved to clean off the blood and dress the gash on his leg when he regained some strength. For now, he sat and waited and ached, entertaining the bleary thoughts and concerns that he may die there, or worse - one of the others may find him, and he would have to explain why he stubbornly faced his demons alone. The thoughts made his stomach twist painfully but he didn't have the energy to linger on them as he reluctantly closed his eyes and waited.

[handstitchedanarchist]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo Characters: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) Additional Tags: Febuwhump 2023, Echo Stress Cleans, lots of fucking around, little bit of finding out, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo Whump Series: Part 3 of Febuwhump 2023 Summary:

It’s not an easy transition for Echo, joining the “bad batch.” But it’s a whole hell of a lot easier than confronting anything else about the current state of his life. Like thinking about the lives that he cost by not just fucking dying when he was supposed to and the deep, all-consuming guilt. And the loss. The Algorithm. Fives. Fuck.

One thing is very clear. He did not think this through.

[scarletv0id]

Tech Week Day 4

[AO3]

Day 3

I’ve had the most time to think this one over and I’m a little worried about it because of that, but I’m happy with the end result so I hope y’all are too! This also kind of follows up on the ideas I posited yesterday. 

Echo flinched as Tech removed his leg from it’s socket.

After having joined the Bad Batch check ups had become quite frequent and though he tried to avoid them Tech always eventually got him to agree to them.

“You don’t have to pull it out so quickly you know.” Echo grumbled, his nails dug into the palm of his one good hand.

“Would you rather I take my time and draw out the pain?”

Echo rolled his eyes as Tech turned around, beginning the cleaning process.

“When do you think we’ll be able to head back home?” Echo asked, attempting to start an idle conversation rather than letting it slip into an awkward silence.

Tech appeared to stop for a brief moment before continuing his task “We’ll return to your home after the next mission, unless something comes up.”

“I think you mean our home.” he corrected, his tone being jovial but he caught Tech stopping once again.

“I do mean your home,” Tech paused, confusing Echo as to why. He usually was faster than this when it came to conversations. “The Marauder is our home,” and then he saw why he’d paused.

Of course it hadn’t been long since he’d joined Clone Force 99 but he had a tendency to forget for a second that he was different from them. That they’d been together since the beginning while he was only a new addition. He’d been feeling more and more at home with them, and he thought the feeling was mutual. But clearly there were still subjects that showed him that he was, indeed, an outsider looking in.

Before he could say anything Tech went on, “You were a Reg once, we obviously had different experiences. You never had to deal with the lunch hall all staring at you, like, by existing, you’d personally insulted each of them. You didn’t have to deal with always being viewed as lesser just because your appearance was different. You may deal with it now, but you didn’t have to grow up with it. You didn’t have to train in that environment. You didn’t have to prove each one of them wrong by succeeding anyways. You were a Reg, we weren’t.”

His tone was tactile and certain in what he was saying, but Echo could pick up on the pain that Tech clearly felt in stating it.

So Echo couldn’t be offended by it.

He had been a Reg, and maybe if he’d met the batch sooner he would have acted just like every other Reg had acted towards them. With mistrust and disdain.

“I might have been a Reg, but my squad wasn’t exactly top tier. A lot of our vods looked down on us since we could barely make it through the easiest trials.”

Tech hadn’t ever heard Echo bring up his old squad like this. Only in passing had he overheard Echo ask Captain Rex what had happened to “Fives”, but he’d never brought them up directly to any member of the Bad Batch.

So Tech decided to indulge Echo, see if he could get a better idea of what he meant. “What was your squad called?”

“Domino squad, we were certainly a work of art. Fives, Hevy, Droidbait, Cutup, and I didn’t really get along. Our trainers hated us for it too, took us till the last minute to pass and be able to be approved for combat.” “I remember hearing about your squad, your turn around time after that inconvenience in your final exam was incredible. I studied it in the hopes that maybe we could apply it to some of our own tactics.”

Echo laughed, the idea of Tech trying to decipher the crazed tactics the squad had come up with just to get to the field was amazing.

“Glad we could be of some use!” Echo chuckled, the way he said it though Tech could tell he was thinking about how little use his squad had ended up being.

“I’m sure they were all great vods to have,” he attempted to comfort Echo but didn’t think he could do much.

“They were, sometimes when I wake up I still think one of them made it out too though. Like Fives or even Hevy, for a brief moment I’ll think they’re sleeping right above  me and then…they aren’t.”

Tech finished the cleaning and turned back around to put the leg back in place. “Well, we can’t replace them but you do still have a place in our home. Perhaps you can even start to call it your home as well.”

Echo’s face was one of thoughtful melancholy as he remembered his fallen aliit, when Tech said that he had a place in the batch he smiled softly at him. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Good, because you're stuck with us for the long haul.” Tech said succinctly as the leg locked back into place.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go anywhere!” Echo assured, “I’ll be here for the long haul.”

As Tech helped Echo get to his hammock the two soldiers walked away from the conversation Echo was left with the feeling that he was finally a part of the Batch, and Tech walked away better understanding their new aliit member.

[hellowkatey]

it's late night writing hours my guys. so here's a little bit of what happens before and after Echo gets absolutely wrecked by a cafeteria tray in Aftermath

2.6k words ~ CW: PTSD/panic attacks/medical trauma

For a glorious moment, Omega revels in the chaos she had started. She isn't quite sure what foodstuffs make up the greasy loafs that are served in the trooper's mess hall. Whatever they are, they make a satisfying splat noise when hitting armor, and get quite a bit of air when thrown.

Now, the revolting loafs are sailing through the air from every direction. Omega ducks behind Hunter as he decks one of the clones clear across the table. His other hand reaches back to lightly pat her upper arm, as though to make sure she's still there. Her heart soars at the gesture, and she grins as wide as her face allows while jumping on the table to chuck another handful of food at a trooper winding up to punch Echo. It smacks him in the cheek, distracting him long enough for Echo to land a left hook of his own.

Crosshair is still seated, ducking out of the way of projectiles while continuing to shovel food into his mouth. Omega watches with great amusement as Echo is kicked backwards— straight onto Crosshair's tray. His face begins cycling through the stages of grief, and ends on anger. She can't help but giggle at him slamming his fist on the table and whipping his ruined tray like a frisbee, hitting three separate troopers in the process. Though he seemed hesitant to engage earlier, he lunges at a clone that has Tech in a headlock, sending all three of them in a tangled heap.

Omega's adrenaline is pumping, heartbeat in her ears as she takes a running start and throws herself onto the shoulders of a clone. The room blurs as he whirls her around, hands trying grab her small arms. When he can't seem to whip her off, the clone suddenly bends forward at the hips, bucking Omega down onto the table. He obviously didn't expect her to be so light because she slips from his grasp and slides toward the end of the table, the air getting pushed out of her lungs. She lies still for a few seconds, breathing heavily.

What she's above makes her adrenaline high suddenly vanish. In the window that overlooks the cafeteria, Lama Su glares down at the food fight. Standing next to him is a military officer— high ranking by the looks of him. He sneers at the flying food and the troopers, saying something to Lama Su with his lip curled in disgust. She's seen his expression before on the faces of others that come to tour the facility. People revolted or offended by the very idea of clones. They're the type of people that seem little too interested in the decommissioning process. Omega has not idea who this is, but he looks official and that gives her a bad feeling.

With her breath back in her chest she rolls to her stomach just in time to see Echo sitting on the floor in the midst of the fighting. He also stares up at the officer and Lama Su, disgust across his own pale face. Does he know him? she wonders.

But as he is distracted by their spectators, the clone he knocked to the ground picks up an abandoned tray and raises it above his head.

"Echo, watch out!" Tech yells, reaching out to the cybernetic clone, but getting tackled to the ground before he can do anything. Omega's eyes widen in horror as the trooper puts his entire strength behind the tray as it swings, slamming into the side of Echo's head.

"Echo, no!" Omega screams as he pitches to the side, eyes already closed and mind dead to the world before he even hits the ground. She quickly presses a button on her commlink that alerts medical to her location and jumps off the table to weave through the troopers that have been momentarily distracted by the jarring sound of a metal tray hitting cybernetic implants.

Tech has fought his way to Echo's side, two fingers pressed against his neck as he yells out his name. The rest of the Bad Batch has taken notice of their fallen brother now, and suddenly the entire atmosphere turns serious. Wrecker isn't laughing anymore as he picks up clones and literally throws them out of the way to clear a path. Hunter and Crosshair, who were displaced to the other side of the caf, now run across the top of the tables, landing punches and throwing trays without breaking stride. Tech has hoisted Echo over his shoulder as the rest of their squad form a protective circle facing outward. Omega slips behind Hunter, unable to take her eyes off Echo's unresponsive face.

"We need to get him out of here," Tech says, his eyes flickering to every one of the cafeteria entrances. Probably doing a calculation of some sort for the quickest way to the med wing.

"Medical is on their way, we can meet them in the corridor," Omega offers, but the others don't seem to process that she's even there. She cowers at Wrecker's side, anxiety that they're upset with her eating away at her heart.

"Keep tight, let's move," Hunter says, and they all seem to know exactly what that means. Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair flank Tech on both sides and at his back as they run toward the exit.

They nearly pass the medical droid rushing toward the caf with a stretcher.

"Wait!" she yells, louder this time. Even if they're mad at her, at least she can try and make it up to them. This time, they actually listen to her. "This stretcher is for Echo,"

The boys look at one another and then seem to accept this. Tech gently places his unconscious brother on the stretcher as Nala Se comes rushing around the corner. The medical droid wastes no time and performing a quick scan.

"CT-1409 preliminary assessment: head trauma resulting in loss of consciousness. Patient is stable but require further testing."

"Echo isn't going to like that," Wrecker mutters.

Nala Se's blank eyes flicker from the unconscious clone to a food-covered Omega a she comes to a stop at the foot of Echo's stretcher. The medical assistant can already tell she is in for a big lecture after this stunt.

"Take CT-1409 to the medical-wing," the Kaminoan scientist says in her airy voice. "Omega, assist in the transport."

Omega places her hand on the side of the stretcher, avoiding the hard gaze of her mistress. "Yes, Nala Se."

The Kaminoan now looks at each of the others. "All clones involved in the cafeteria incident are required to be assessed for injuries," she says. "You will report to the lower level medical wing immediately."

A weak chorus of "Yes sirs," rings out and the Kaminoan continues down the hall toward the caf.

Omega starts pushing Echo's stretcher toward the medical wing, feeling the heavy footsteps of four shadows trailing behind her. Apparently a direct order wasn't enough for them.

"They won't let you guys in while he's getting tests run." Omega says while staring straight ahead. Looking at them now will fill her with too much shame.

"We're staying with him," Hunter replies as-a-matter-of-factly.

"You'll get in trouble."

"We're already in trouble, what's breaking one more rule?" Wrecker says.

Omega suddenly stops, forcing herself to look at them. They all have varying degrees of worry etched across the faces. She locks eyes with Hunter, hoping she can at least get him on her side. The last thing she wants is to be the reason they get in trouble again. "At least go get your check-up and clean the grease off your armor. If you show up with me, covered in food, then you'll have to change into medical gowns... and I'll get in trouble." Hunter's eyes soften slightly, but she can still see his hesitation. He doesn't want to get her in trouble, but this is also one of his brothers she's telling them to leave. She knows how deep loyalty runs for these men.  "I promise I won't leave his side until you come to see him."

"We'll be back in ten minutes," Hunter says after a heavy sigh. "If he wakes up before then, comm us."

"You got it," Omega nods in understanding. Though the others don't seem too happy about leaving Echo, he gives him a pointed look and their shoulders slouch with compliance. Omega starts pushing the stretcher again and is halfway down the hall when Tech appears at her side.

"Echo does not do very well with medical tests," he explains, staring at Echo's prone figure rather than directly at Omega. "I recommend, from experience, to wait until he is conscious and aware of what is being done to him before performing any procedures outside of contactless scans."

Her eyes wander over the complex configuration of wires and tubes that wrap around Echo's head and body. She looks back to Tech, nodding.

"Thank you for telling me. I will do what I can to make sure he's okay."

Tech gives her a small smile, turning around, but then pausing. "Oh, and when he does wake, he might start swinging. So keep your distance and remove any possible projectiles." With that, he starts jogging after his brothers. She cannot tell if he was joking or not.

Omega lets out a shaky breath, holding back the urge to cry as she pushes Echo into the medical wing. AZ takes over as she ducks into the scrub room to change her soiled clothes.

Somehow trying to stand up for her friends has turned into one of them getting hurt— she didn't want that to happen she just... wanted to show them she was on their side. For a little while she did feel that incredible rush of belonging. But was it worth landing Echo in the medical bay?

Of course not. They'll never let me be one of them now.

It was dumb. Provoking a room full of troopers that already have it out for the Bad Batch was a thoughtless act. Nala Se is no doubt going to remind her of that and use it keep her sequestered from now on.

Omega emerges in fresh clothes as AZ is completing the brain scan. Echo is still unconscious.

"Is he gonna be alright, AZ?"

AZ's bug eyes always make him look like he's pitying whoever he's looking at. "CT-1409's"

"Echo," Omega interrupts him. "You can call him Echo."

The droid pauses, taking a moment to process that request.

"Patient CT-1409, a.k.a. Echo's scans are clear of skull fractures or bone contusions. My preliminary assessment is that he has sustained a mild concussion consistent with blunt force trauma. He will require a brain tissue scan to ensure there is no bleeding or clotting,"

"Good," Omega lets out a sigh of relief. "That's good."

"Your services will not be required further, Omega. You are free to return to your assigned duties."

She glares at the droid, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm staying, AZ. I promised the guys."

"But mistress Nala Se summoned you to the sub-level medical wing. You must go."

"No!" There's no way she's taking orders from a AZ. Even if he is her friend. "I'm staying here until he wakes up."

AZ shakes his head, his unexpressive droid face somehow looking disappointed. He hovers over to Echo to begin performing the tissue scan, and Omega goes to look for a blanket or something to make their patient more comfortable.

The distinct whirring of the scan is interrupted by a sharp gasp. Omega turns as Echo starts to flail.

"No! Get them off," he gasps, his arms swinging but hitting nothing. There's a clouded look in his panicked eyes as they frantically search the room.

"But my tests are not yet complete," the droid tries to explain while continuing to move closer. Omega is already running across the room, shoving AZ to the side.

"Echo, Echo, it's—" his unfocused gaze shifts from the corner filled with bacta tanks to her. "It's okay. It's me, Omega." His chest rises and falls as though he's been running for miles, and she raises her hands so he can clearly see them. "I understand." As his breathing slows, she realizes that AZ must have attached a heart and respiration monitor to Echo while she was changing. She slowly reaches down to pull them off of him. "I don't like being hooked up to their machines either."

A few brief memories float passively through her mind. Wires and needles and tubes coming from various places on her body. The sticky feeling of bacta on her skin and gathering between her fingers and toes. Silent tears streaming down her face every time she saw the instrument cart was full for the day.

Omega releases him from the monitors and looks up at him. Echo is still coming out of his panic, but he seems calmer now. He looks at her as though she has seven eyes and two noses, but at least he finally sees her.

"Hello CT-1409," AZ pipes up.

"His name is Echo," Omega reminds him.

"My name is AZ-34521189..." as he drones on with his serial identifier, Echo and Omega exchange glances. She offers him a comforting smile and though he doesn't really react, he does scoot himself further from AZ and closer to her, which is good enough for now. When AZ finishes, his body spins around on its axis, and Wrecker's voice suddenly rings out through the med wing.

"Ha! Told you he's alive!" The rest of the squad, now clean of grease, stroll in. "You owe me two credits," Wrecker says, jabbing a finger at Crosshair. They seem surprisingly relaxed, most of them nodding or even smiling at Omega as they gather around the foot of Echo's bed. The fact they even acknowledge her is unexpected.

AZ turns to the rest of them to give his assessment. In the mean time, Omega turns her attention back to Echo. His eyes aren't glazed over anymore but he still seems uneasy. Definitely uncomfortable sitting on a medical table. Omega has overheard the rumors of what happened on to him— how Echo was an ARC trooper that got captured and experimented on. It's obvious from his chemically bleached skin and the complex assortment of cybernetics that he's been through a certain kind of hell. But judging from how he reacted to a simple scan and heart monitor, she cannot imagine how bad it must have really been.

She decides to take the risk and lays her hand gently over his. His wide brown eyes look from the rest of his squad to her hand atop his, and then finally to her. Echo gives her an appreciative nod and a slight smile. Warmth fills her body again, stronger than it was when they were joining her in her food fight pursuits.

The young medical assistant looks to the others now, only to find Hunter has been ignoring AZ's grand reveal that they are genetically defective and is instead watching her. The sergeant's lips form a curious half-smile as he watches her pull her hand away from their injured brother. The giddy warmth in her chest builds even more. They aren't mad at her after all. In fact, she gets the feeling that they might even like her. Or, at least, acknowledge her existence-- which is progress from earlier.

Omega realizes that maybe grand gestures shouldn't be her approach in trying to get them to notice her. Maybe just showing them how much she truly cares about them is enough.

Definitely no more food fights... unless one of the others is the one to initiate it, of course. If that's the case, Omega will be the second one to throw the greasy Kamino caf loafs.