Repercussions Pt 9
Part (9) of Repercussions, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!
Another big thank you to @dizzy-9906 and @v4r-jpg for proof reading!
Warnings: brief description of injury and mild profanity, but otherwise just standard emotional stuff
WC: 3,378
Mandoa Translation vod - brother Di'kut - Idiot
Quiet voices hummed through the corridor outside the medbay. Not quite whispering, but… softened; gentle, and I found myself pausing just beyond the reach of the door’s sensor, reluctant to risk ruining that softness with the weight my presence seemed to create lately, but then Wrecker’s laughter sounded clearly through the metal panels despite how carefully he quieted even that. There was no tension it, no forced mirth for some halfhearted attempt toward levity. He laughed with the certainty that everything would be okay… and I couldn’t help but let myself believe him, if only a little.
“-wn fault for gettin’ jea-” His words cut short as I finally stepped forward, causing the door to slide open. His grin never faltered as his gaze turned toward me, but even his eyes held a tension that sent something twisting anxiously through my chest.
“Hey, Doc!” He welcomed through that broad smile. He and Hunter both sat on the floor, pressed against the edges of the cot practically caging Echo in; Hunter at the head of the bed, back resting against the wall with his legs stretched out as he lightly grasped his injured brother’s shoulder while Wrecker was cross-legged at the arc's side, both hands cradling Echo’s as his fingers danced almost thoughtless in slow, soothing motions, and, despite everything, my heart jumped at the sight, at the realization that he was carefully massaging the limb with the same movements I’d taught him…
But the simple fact that they were on the ground left me tensing.
“He woke up?” I asked quietly, unable to completely hide the worry from my voice.
“Not really.” Hunter replied in an easy murmur. “Stirred a bit, but… passed out pretty quickly after recognizing me and Wrecker.” My entire body wilted beneath a deep sigh, relief palpable in way I couldn’t begin to hide. He hadn’t heard Crosshair’s harsh words… hadn’t heard my harsher rebuke, and whatever glimmer of awareness he’d had was free of nightmares carved too deeply to ever truly fade.
Lips pulling into a weary but warm smile, I tread forward, footsteps hushed as I settled lightly beside Wrecker, legs curled halfway beneath me, body just pressing against the hard shell of armor atop his thigh. He’d rid himself of that heavy duraplast from the waist up, clearly halfway through their post-mission routine when he must have dropped everything at the sudden shouting, and I had to fight to keep my gaze from noting how tightly the black fabric hugged his form; how the dimmed light cast subtle shadows so perfectly about his arms and shoulders as the muscles flexed with each movements of his fingers.
Hunter must have begun a similar ritual upon hiding away in here, both arms free of armor though one pauldron remained, and I purposefully avoided his gaze until I could fight back the glee still threatening to blossom with every glimpse of muscle shifting beneath easy breaths. This was nothing new to me… seeing them like this… but still my heart leapt at the sight.
“Like I said… a natural.” I murmured fondly as I glanced down to where Wrecker continued gently working his thumbs against Echo’s palm, and my small grin only grew at the subtle heat crawling up his neck as his shoulders rocked with a silent chuckle, but that smile faded as his movements stilled.
“How’s his…?” He asked quietly with a small nod toward his legs. I let out a slow breath, hand reaching out to settling lightly over Wrecker’s forearm as my attention settled on Echo.
“It looked pretty bad… but his fever hasn’t gotten any worse. I’m hoping another hour or so on these meds will start bringing it down.” I could feel the heaviness about him; the sorrow of it.
“Can’t believe he didn’t say somethin’…” he started, voice low, and I couldn’t help but notice how Hunter’s jaw ground slightly, gaze dropping. “Not like we’d’ve blamed him. Him needin’ some help with his legs isn’ much different than me an’ heights or Hunter’s headaches…” I felt myself go still at that, stunned at how effortlessly he’d turned what was surely a crippling sense of shame for the man before us into… something normal, and I briefly wondered if that’s how he felt every time I became overwhelmed, every time my fears or regrets became too much and let myself escape them in the strength of his embrace… The question clawed against the back of my throat, clinging to silence for fear that I was wrong…
“You should tell him that.” I said instead, barely able to force the gentle whisper around everything I couldn’t ask; everything I couldn’t say. He let out a small hum, brows furrowed in thought above mismatched eyes staring blindly through the unconscious form of his brother.
“If I get the chance…” He grumbled with a huff, instantly drawing my attention. “Think Tech’s gonna yell at ‘im until the whole war’s over…” He paused, catching himself belatedly as his eyes flicked toward me, and I tried not to show the tension that stole through my chest at the memory of how it felt to be the target of Tech’s anger. “He’s, uh… he’s really taking this pretty hard…” Wrecker started, something like an apology further quieting his words.
“He’s been… spending a lot of time with Echo lately, helping build those new legs.” Hunter continued, thumb brushing absently over Echo’s shoulder. “Him finding out like this wasn’t exactly easy.” I felt my body sink, ashamed to have not considered that earlier. Tech and Echo spent more time together than any of the others… It should have been obvious that he’d be the most hurt by Echo’s secrecy…
“I bet that’s just going to make him even more appreciative to hear what you just said.” I replied, bumping Wrecker lightly with my shoulder. He didn’t respond for a moment but then nodded with a small smile.
“Grabbed Hunter’s bed for yuh.” He said, glancing to the far wall, and only then did I notice the additional cot tucked against the storage cabinets, and every part of me instantly ached for the reprieve it promised.
“Thank you.” I could hear the exhaustion in my voice and tried not to notice how quickly his eyes softened as he looked at me, my own gaze quickly dropping. There was too much I still needed to deal with before I could rest… too many thoughts raging through my mind that wouldn’t let me try.
I found myself looking toward Hunter before I could stop it, and that knowing guilt drawing the faintest hint of tension through his shoulders, the way it held his breath and left him frozen; waiting…
“I should take care of some paperwork first, though.” I pretended to grumble, shooting Wrecker a small smile. He didn’t believe me, but he only smiled back with that quiet understanding that left me leaning ever so slightly harder against him. “Mind if I stay here?” I asked, voice dropping into something just shy of a whisper.
“’Course.” He murmured without hesitation, automatically shifting just enough to let me rest more comfortably against him. It should have felt strange… taboo. Hunter sat barely a couple feet away. Crosshair was… somewhere… both too close and too far, and my stomach coiled at the mere thought even as I relished in the warmth radiating from the powerful man beside me, forcing my attention to my datapad.
“Can’t believe that android thing got to Palps.” Wrecker started, booming voice carefully hushed.
“I know.” Hunter replied in a growl low enough to emphasize just how many times he’d already heard this.
“Them Coruscant regs let some half-clanker get that far… Makin’ us look bad…” He continued as though oblivious to his brother’s sigh, and I didn’t try to hide the little huff of laughter that caught lightly at my lips.
“We get past enemy patrols all the time.”
“Yeah, ‘cause those rusted parts don’t stand a chance against us!” The prideful boast carried loudly through the small room, instantly earning a small, “oops,” but Echo showed no signs of stirring. Hunter rolled his eyes, though the shadow of a smirk on his lips left no doubt to how grateful he was. Wrecker wasn’t rambling just to fill the silence, nor was it from a place of ignorance, oblivious to the severity of too many consequences crashing down around us at once. He was giving a distraction; a break from obsessing over regrets we couldn’t fix and the fallout yet to come, and it was so easy to hide in that distraction. Even as I studied image after image of brain scans in search of any hint of discrepancy, the anxiety churning about my chest felt… lighter beneath the nonchalance of his banter.
“Grievous isn’t just some droid, Wrecker.” Hunter chided, “and the droids that were there aren’t like anything we're used to.”
“Droid or not, a couple ‘a my special charges’ll leave ‘em all a pile ‘a burnt bolts!” The tiny chuckle that left me was more a plea to believe him than anything else. The stories surrounding the Chancellor’s brief capture were… terrifying. Four Jedi and just as many Red Guards cut down like it was sport…
“Powerful enough to kill Grievous but not a decrepit old man?” I teased, pointedly bumping his shoulder with my cheek as I looked up at him.
“Exactly!” The laughter that eager reply brought me was far more earnest, treasuring Wrecker's glee from that impossible fantasy as much as the fantasy itself.
Metal floors offered neither warmth nor comfort, but if they cared neither man voiced complaint. Their voices grew quieter as time passed; Wrecker's gestures less animated. I think they were discussing the empty promises of more powerful weapons the Republic saw fit to dangle before its soldiers without hope of ever actually providing them; recanting how various missions might have gone differently if we’d been better armed.
I heard them, relished in the calm of mindless murmurs, but that glimpse of normalcy only just softened the dread growing heavier the closer we got to the Resolute. Echo's legs… Hunter's special sense… the resentment and blame and frustration from Crosshair and Tech… It was all far too loud to have any real hope of rest. So, I searched. Their conversation faded into the background as I compared scans, drafted a formal request for use of the Kaminoan’s private equipment, filled what documentation was needed for Echo’s med leave, kriff, I even started researching the biomechanics of fauna with similar electro-magnetic sensitivities to Hunter’s, searching for some fresh insight, desperately hoping for a revelation by widening my scope… but what information I found was already thoroughly detailed in his file. Still, I scoured what articles I could until my eyes grew heavy, and my fingers began to go slack; and Wrecker was simply there; solid and warm and gentle as his torso swelled lazily with each breath…
-
“Stage three, bilateral decrepitus ulcers with severe infection. Vitals showed improvement after field debridement, but he needs constant monitoring and continued IV antibiotics.” They’d already read my report – knew how deep the wounds had carved into Echo’s legs, the steps I’d take to treat him, and which medications he was getting, but there was a comfort in the routine of delivering pass down to the team of medics awaiting us as we boarded the Resolute, and I was pleased that they showed no impatience from either my words nor my presence as I remained with them, strides purposeful through the short distance to the medbay. I held little doubt that Rex’s presence was in no small part to blame for their tolerance.
He'd been waiting for us; expression stern as though the façade of irritation might mask the depth of concern causing his fingers to fidget with the ridge of his helm, heavy eyes darting between us in that first moment the Marauder’s ramp had descended. That irritation crumbled the instant we’d loaded his brother onto the gurney, pale skin emphasized by the white sheets. He’d stayed with Hunter and the others as I accompanied Echo to the medbay, but I had little doubt he wouldn’t linger for long.
“And no droids.” I continued firmly. That caused a few of the men to glance back at me, identical faces illustrating just how violently different they all were in the array of reactions: annoyance, confusion, dismissal, but something about the way I held their gaze, the haunted determination screaming from the weight of my silence as I practically dared them to argue had each biting back their words in those few seconds before another of the 501st came trotting out to meet us.
“Well, you look like shit.” Kix greeted absent sympathy or preamble, and I didn’t try to hide the exhaustion nor the fondness in the scoff it drew from me.
“Occupational hazard.” I replied in a light grumble, shoulders barely able to shrug around the brace I’d reluctantly readorned.
“Uh huh.” The deadpan look he shot me left my jaw tensing, ready to rebuke any comments or accusations he might voice, but he merely let his gaze soften before glancing down to Echo. “Not sure when we'll be able to get replacements fitted.” He warned as he led the way into a small room, head nodding subtly toward his legs.
“He was already working on new ones.” Kix let out a short, humorless laugh at my words. “I think they're almost done. Tech’s been helping him.”
“He’ll have plenty of time to finish them in the medbay.” He grumbled. “Can’t believe that di’kut let it get this bad…” I tried not to show the pang of guilt that shot through me at his words… I shouldn’t have let it get this bad… I should have figured it out before all this…
“You going to let us help, this time?” He asked as we finished getting Echo settled, voice half teasing, half resigned sigh. I wanted to respond with some witty retort, to pretend the last few hours hadn’t left me shaken in a way I didn’t know how to come back from… that I wasn’t questioning my very presence in the GAR…
The quiet lasted too long as too many thoughts clawed through my mind, cruel whispers reminding me of my every short-coming, and Kix paused, attention suddenly locking on me with an intensity that should have left me squirming.
“He was your squadmate long before he was mine.” I said simply, words kept far too even lest they break. I’d barely let Kix or his brothers anywhere near Hunter when we’d been here mere days prior… maybe if I had, they would have noted something in his scans, his vitals, his mannerisms… anything that might shed some insight toward the loss of that unique sense…
“Just… don’t assign him to any-”
“Droids. Yeah, I know.” He finished softly, gaze never faltering. “And we’ll avoid sedatives the best we can.” He added, and that seemed to make something twist even sharper through my chest. Of course, he knew… Just like he knew to keep all of the equipment they could off around Hunter so the constant noise and static wouldn’t give him a migraine. Just like he knew to dim the lights for Crosshair and let Tech participate in whatever diagnostic tests or treatments he needed both to appease his curiosity as well as his anxiety. Just like he knew to acknowledge Wrecker’s dislike for needles without belittling him for it…
That cruel whisper wondered if Echo would have hesitated at all before going to Kix for help had I not been here, certain that the source of his hesitation was the exact reason Wolffe had gotten rid of me.
Kix didn’t call me “Doc.” He didn’t use nicknames or titles, and when he murmured my name, it was with the weight of knowing exactly what doubts plagued my mind, the weight of having felt himself crushed beneath his own doubts far too many times himself. But they weren’t the same, and I couldn’t risk even hinting toward the source of my guilt without risking far greater repercussions…
An almost coughed hum tripped over my tongue as I forced my attention away from those dark thoughts, wrenching myself back to the present and trying to regather some glimmer of control before I let something slip.
“Can I show you some scans?” I asked, voice even; professional, “I could use a second opinion.” I knew how easily he saw through the hopeless distraction, but he said nothing, holding my gaze for just a moment longer, as though granting me a few final seconds to take it back, to purge myself of whatever insecurities left the silence ringing far too loudly around us.
“Sure.” He finally whispered, shoulders sinking with a tiny sigh. “Send them to my datapad. I’ll stay with Echo and look them over. Why don’t you take some downtime? Get some rest… let someone check out that shoulder…” He added pointedly, and I felt myself pull back slightly at the unspoken offer.
“It’s fine.” I dismissed quietly, gaze falling back to Echo. “He’ll need help to the fresher when he wakes up.” I didn’t think about the words as they left in something too soft to be wholly appropriate, but, despite the touch of color had finally begun to return, that gleam of sweat still coated his skin, the fresh sheets already beginning to cling to him, outlining limb and muscles alike as he trembled. “And we should get him a thicker blanket when his fever breaks – he hates being cold.”
Again, he called my name, but this time I didn’t try to hide behind that façade, attention still focused on the realization of my own forsaken forethought and careless impulse.
“Go on… I’ll take care of him.” Kix promised, and I wondered if he’d pull rank if I refused, aware that only a fool would mistake his kindness for weakness. It wasn’t something I had the energy or the will to test… not when I knew Kix was the medic who’d cared for Echo when he’d first been rescued from that cruel science project. I gave a small nod before reaching for my datapad, lips nearly twisting with a grimace as I twisted slightly to hold the device in my restrained hand while typing with the other.
“We’re looking for anything that might lead to sensory deficiencies.” I stated vaguely as I transferred the files, and pointedly ignored the way his gaze sharpened, already reaching for his own datapad.
“Might need to requisition use of some Kaminoan equipment.” He said with a slight huff of frustration. “That kind of detail wasn’t exactly a priority when they designed these medbays.” I let out a weary sigh, hand shifting up to rub at my forehead.
“I know… I’ve already got the form filled out; just…” I hesitated, biting back the words before they might cascade into a rage.
“Don’t want to give the longnecks an excuse to get involved?” He said knowingly, and only then did I finally look back toward him, jaw taut even as my body nearly slumped, head shifting in a barely perceptible nod. His lips twitched in a half-smile, sympathy and remorse radiating from him in the stead of any true mirth.
“I’ll look it over – maybe run it by a few vod just for redundancy.”
A quiet ‘thanks’ left me in a sighed mumble before forcing myself to stand straight once more. I cast a final glance toward Echo, hand shifting with the want to reach for him, to grasp his shoulder or card my fingers through his hair – anything to let him know that I was there, but the movement stopped short, heart jumping at the memory of that hurt coiling through my wrist and bursting through my shoulder.
With a tense breath, I turned and left, footsteps absent the crisp rhythm of duraplast boots thudding against sterile tiles beneath purposeful strides fueled by a confidence trained into these men from the moment they were decanted. A few hours… I could take a few hours; clear my head; breathe… then maybe I could start trying to piece everything back together…
Next Chapter
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