Divergent Paths Pt 5
Part (5) of Divergent Paths, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!
This was supposed to be the last chapter... but it was running too long, so I decided to split it
Warnings: Medical terminology, sexual tension, PTSD, guilt, reference to murder/ torture, snogging
WC: 3,437
“If you haven’t found anything by now, I think it’s safe to say I’m okay.” It was more teasing than impatient. In truth, there was something delightful in listening to him orate each groove and bony process that might have caused bruising, in the effortless elegance with which his crisp voice danced about complex anatomical names and phrases despite the very real danger they might represent. I’d missed this, too. Maker, I’d missed so much in the months of anxiety and dread and guilt.
“It can be difficult to account for coup-countercoup injuries with only a handheld scanner.” He countered, drawing a soft sigh from me.
“Anything too small for that to find isn’t likely to pose any real threat.” His lips bunched in that little scowl that screamed his desire to object, mind analyzing every angle for some means to disprove me and knowing that want came up short.
“Unlikely does not mean impossible.” It was a weak argument, and he knew it, but I didn’t say that; I didn’t need to, and the way his cheeks warmed at the smile toying with my lips only made the prolonged check-up all the better. “I still advise you remain under observation for at least another day… but it would appear as though you managed to avoid serious injury…” His eyes swept almost mournful over my face, those yellow lenses nearly hiding the soft brown, “beyond the obvious bruising, of course.” He added, voice dropping with an apology he should never have felt the need to give.
“Bruises heal.” I replied gently. He let out a slow breath, index finger giving only an occasional tap against the medical scanner still in his hands.
“All the same, I'll review your scans once more to ensure I haven’t missed something.” That was as close to a dismissal as I was going to get, but still I found myself hesitating, unable to turn away from the worried determination painting subtle lines at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t notice until the silence lasted a beat too long, eyes flicking toward me with an uncertainty that made my heart jump. I almost hesitated… but he’d seemed so undeterred when he took my hand mere moments prior…
I let out a slow, deep sigh as I stepped toward him, arms looping around his lower back with a gentle, featherlight embrace; one he could escape with the barest of withdrawals, but I needed him to know just how grateful I was; for his concern, his understanding, his willingness to talk to me when the others still tripped over the words.
“Thank you.” I whispered against his chest. He was still for a moment, air held in his lungs, arms flared ever so slightly, and I worried I’d overstepped; that I’d pushed too far and might rekindle the heartbreak from that moment he’d shied from my touch… but then his free hand settled lightly over my shoulder blade, the other thoughtlessly setting the tablet down on the bed or the counter or wherever was nearest before moving to slide softly along my lower back.
I’d planned to grant myself only time enough for a single, slow breath, and then I was going to pull away. I was going to give him his space for however long he needed it, but then his body shifted, embrace wrapping so firmly around me, I couldn’t help but let my torso arch forward, molding against his as his deceptively tall form curled around mine, head ducking down to rest his cheek against my temple, ruffling my hair in a thoughtless, firm caress that surely couldn’t be called a nuzzle, his own breath fleeing with a tension neither of us would draw attention to. Not yet. But I let my arms tighten. I let him feel every glimmer of affection and adoration that might be sown through something as innocent and tender and desperate as a hug might possibly portray, and I realized something as my own breath caught.
Some part of me had still feared that he might have reservations; that in our time apart, he had distanced himself from emotion and found logic wanting for reasons I ought stay; that he’d concluded what chaos surely lingered in the days to come as we six struggled to settle into new norms and new roles governed by a love and lust that was anything but new couldn’t be justified by what use I had to the squad as a unit, but that embrace, the relief so shamelessly screamed in the way his fingers dug into the narrow gaps between my armor silenced even whispers of that doubt.
My hand slid up to card through the short curls at the base of his neck, fingertips tracing lightly over the band of his goggles as I tilted my head to just brush my brow against his chin, lips laxed in a gentle smile.
“Thank you.” I murmured once more, leaning back just enough to find his gaze, to let him see my own relief in the face of his, and his breath caught slightly, a tension returning to draw his shoulders back and straighten his spine as though belatedly remembering himself.
“O-of course.” He stammered ever so slightly as he stepped back. “I’ll… inform you if I find anything of note.” The subtle embarrassment in his voice as he quickly turned his attention to where he’d thoughtlessly abandoned his datapad left me chuckling softly as I turned away.
There was a weightlessness to my step that I hadn’t realized I’d been without for so long, suffering beneath the guilt for wants I’d been ashamed of, fears of what retribution surely awaited me should they ever come to light, but now I was free of that, and the possibilities laid out before me in its absence were exhilarating, consuming my every thought as I tread quickly through the door. Too quickly.
I wasn’t paying attention; wasn’t thinking beyond the thrill lingering in the wake of Tech’s embrace, head bowed as though trying to hide the grin I couldn’t begin to fight from my lips, and I didn’t see him; didn’t notice how near I’d come to accidentally walking right into him, but the instant Echo’s hand grabbed my arm, the instant his voice filled that small room, it didn’t matter what he’d said nor how gently he held me. All I saw was that rage in eyes unfocused and hazy with illness, the venom in that remorseless threat, I’m not asking again, and my entire body froze, ice flooding my veins, panic locking my muscles taut, too terrified to move, to breathe, to even try to flee for what punishment it might bring.
“Whoa-whoa; easy.” His arms flared, releasing me before my short, strangled gasp even fell silent. I saw him – saw the sharp concern in the soft brown of his eyes, the way his shoulders dropped like it might lessen the intimidating visage of his powerful form, lessen the way his broad silhouette so effortlessly blocked the hallway, but I saw that nightmare just as clearly, how ruthlessly he’d ground my face into the floor, twisting my arm behind me…
He took another step back, and my heart sank, chest bucking with a stolen breath as my gaze dropped, stomach twisting at the horrifying realization of what had just happened, the fear I’d let him see in me, the guilt and worry storming in his eyes…
“Kriff, sorry; s-… I, um…” I stammered, trying and failing to find some believable excuse that might give a reason – any reason – for my limbs to be shaking like they were; some way to convince him that it had nothing to do with him; that my mind had been broken and pieced back together too many times to even guess toward why such a touch might have so easily shattered me.
“Y- uh… j-just s-surprised me.” The words caught and fumbled, and I knew he granted them no more belief than I did, stance still carefully loose, as unthreatening as he could possibly pretend to be even as that haunted corner of my mind screamed that it was a lie; that I needed to run… to hide, and how I hated myself for it, for the realization that this ran deeper than a moment’s surprise; that this wasn’t something I could just ignore, and the terror of how it would hurt him if he ever found out… kriff, I could never let him find out… So, I pushed it down. I let an impatient shame pinch my brows and pull my lips in a small scowl, and when he carefully lowered himself onto a knee before me, that guilt only grew.
“Alright, just… just take a breath with me, okay?” He murmured, the subtle, lilting accent in his deep voice almost disjointed in how utterly juxtaposed it was to the feral terror still making my heart race, because how could I feel like this when he spoke to me so softly? How could I shy so violently from his touch now when just moments prior I’d so eagerly lost myself in his embrace?
“Doc?” He pressed in a quiet whisper, and I forced out a small huff, loathing the air of defeat that stole through me, the regret as I hesitantly glanced toward him.
“Hey.” He murmured in a barely there rumble that made my breath hitch, shoulders slumping as a tiny fraction of tension slowly began to drain from taut muscles and faintly trembling limbs. “Sorry… I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.” I let out an almost frustrated sigh.
“No… no, I’m sorry…” I interjected, “You shouldn’t… Dammit, you shouldn’t have to worry about just… touching me like that.” He let out a long, slow breath, eyes just as haunted as they were gentled by how intimately he knew the exact tang of my frustration and the helplessness it carried.
“Are you okay?” He asked, and I felt myself pause; not because of the shame of the only answer I could think to give, but because that wasn’t what he was asking. He wasn’t dwelling on the moment of panic; not when he knew talking about such things would offer no relief. Not yet, at least; not when the adrenaline had yet to fade and memories still threatened to distort and degrade and ruin that happiness I’d only just been allowed to taste.
Stealing another quick breath, I glanced back toward the medbay where Tech was surely still scanning every snip of data until he could silence his own fears, and I nodded.
“Yeah… yeah; no brain bleeds or broken bones.” I answered, voice still too thin but far steadier than I’d expected it to be, and I relished in the smile he offered. It was small, and neither could deny the heartbreak in it, but it was real.
The duality haunted me. This was the Echo I was used to: kind but honest, gentle but firm; yet the man that hurt me, the man that so effortlessly crippled me by twisting my shoulder from its socket… that man was Echo, too; the monster he became when he had to.
“Ple-”
My breath caught at the ripple of that memory, finger tightening around the phantom trigger to murder that mercenary from so long ago, the one I’d tortured for the keycode to save the arc trooper now kneeling before me with that sad, knowing smile, and I leapt for even a tiny distraction.
“That can’t be comfortable.” The glimmer of accusation in my words as I glanced down at his legs earned a barely-there chuckle, but he didn’t deny it as he slowly rose to his full height, shoulders still slouched ever so slightly.
“They’re pretty much healed – just a little sore if I’m on them too long.” He replied, not dismissively, but clearly hoping to leave it at that. I let out a low sigh, attention lingering on the new prosthetics, the image of putrid wounds so poorly hidden beneath stolen bandages and wildly inadequate swaths of bacta long-since stained a far too dark red left me itching to beg him to show me, to let me see for myself that the skin hadn’t yielded from the day’s abuse and begun to fester anew, and I wondered how long it might take for that fear to fade… for any of those fears to fade…
He didn’t mean to move when I reached for his hand, but I saw the little shift of his fingers, too eager for the coming touch to lie still. Despite the warmth that sight sent humming through my chest, I couldn’t bring myself to smile, not when the soreness he was referring to only plagued him because of secrets he’d felt he had to keep because of me, because of the confusion of changing dynamics, the sudden need to second-guess every word and gesture to ensure some line wasn’t crossed that had been blurred long before I even knew it existed, and the heaviness in what was so nearly a gentle quiet weighed all the more merciless amidst the loss of his own tentative grin.
“I’m sorry.” My voice dropped into something almost too quiet to be a whisper, movements desperately gentle, reverent, as I cradled his hand between mine, fingertips tracing scars and veins and the creases adorning his palm. “Dealing with wounds like those… You must have been so afraid, and in so much pain… and to feel like you couldn’t ask for help…” He let out a slow sigh, head dropping though he seemed to lean ever so slightly closer; not crowding me, but… close enough that I could hear his lips and tongue shifting over words he was still trying to find the will to say.
“That’s… not your fault.” He finally admitted. Part of me wanted to ignore that claim, to dismiss it as an empty attempt to offer comfort; to free me of guilt, but that wasn’t Echo’s way, so I found my breath quieting, stilling; waiting for something more. “It’s… it’s still hard to accept sometimes…” He glanced down toward his new legs, such reluctance in hushed words colored only in various shades of shame; shame for the hurt he’d caused and the hurt he’d suffered, shame for being too proud or embarrassed or scared to ask for help, shame for needing help at all…
And there, again, those dual images clashed, because how could I possibly fear the gentle man before me? How could I bring myself to acknowledge that this was the same person that had left me shaking and broken barely more than a week past when now he stood so repentant and vulnerable, muscles atop his cheeks balled in a self-disdained scowl as he glared at the interplay of metals and silicas and engineering that was more deserving of awe than the disgust so evident in twisted lips and narrowed eyes?
I let out a slow breath as I guided his hand to my lips. It felt so natural. Like I’d kissed him a thousand times already with the promise of millions more awaiting, patient as though they’d never known the taste of doubt, and he shared so willingly in that unquestioning comfort as his touch spread out to cup my cheek before letting his thumb and forefinger toy with a loose strand of hair.
“I’m here.” The words washed from my lips as more plea than promise, and the ruin of a smile that sat so briefly but with such heaviness upon his battle-worn face left me stealing a step closer, grip tightening ever so slightly, anything to convince him that there were no conditions to my devotion; no reservations built on prejudice or pity.
“I know.” He murmured, some glimmer of warmth managing to ease that weight from him as he leaned closer in turn, and there was no hesitation from either of us as my head tilted back.
He tasted like caf that had been forgotten for too long and now held a bitterness emphasized by the slight chill of his lips. Still, there was a subtle rhythm to how he kissed me, unrushed and unworried; and how could I not loop my arms around his neck in a gesture both yearning and lazy and unabashed by the breathy sigh that followed, before, with the same breath, letting myself sink back onto my heels.
His shame wasn’t gone, but it was softer. I wanted to tell him that it was okay to have those moments – to acknowledge what he’d lost and rage for it, but I didn’t need to. He didn’t need me to tell him things he already knew. He just needed to know that I could love him all the same; that I didn’t see him as less than whole even on days when he felt so terribly fractured.
With a final smile, my hands slid down his jaw as I began to ease back, attention flicking past him toward where his brothers surely lay in waiting, but, before I could so much as think to step away, his hold shifted, willing me back toward him with a desperate, “wait” in the split second before he kissed me once more, breath nearly a growl as he pressed himself closer, scomped arm wrapping so tightly around my waist that my torso arched flush against his with a gasp that fell far too willingly into a muffled whimper, the sound devoured by his lips.
There wasn’t space left even to moan his name, nails catching on armor and cloth and hair as I lost myself in the suddenness of his need. It wasn’t until I heard the air catch between his teeth in a breathless hiss that I even realized how my body had rolled into him, hips grinding against his armor until he could feel me through even the thick durasteel shifting so cruelly between us. Part of me wondered if that fleeting murmur of friction would be enough; if such muted whispers of movement coupled with far too many months of repressed desires might bring him to the edge, and I found myself desperate to find out, to learn what other noises I might draw from him absent true touch.
But then he was pulling away, forehead brushing mine in what should have been affectionate yet earned only a flare of frustration as I strained to chase his lips once more. The breathy chuckle, the smile beaming across his face, the way his chest seemed to swell as he granted me exactly what I wanted for far too short an eternity, kiss nearly chaste amidst the thoughts raging through my mind; I couldn’t try to suppress the quiet groan from catching in my throat as he straightened up, the muffled sound only fueling his glee.
“Sorry,” he whispered, hand slipping so delicately down my cheek that I instantly felt myself melting into it, “just had to make sure.” My brows twitched together with confusion for the beat it took to remember how to speak.
“Make sure what?” I practically mumbled, voice far more hoarse than I’d intended, and he answered only with that stunning smile, free of every memory of pain or loss or guilt for just a moment as he kissed me once more before finally stepping back, scomp still resting lightly around my waist.
“Come on.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him like this: light. Happy. Truly happy. And whatever glimmers of my own fears lingered suddenly felt so foolish as I let myself be drawn nearer to him, idly following his every step in those few seconds in which we yet remained hidden from sight, body pressed so perfectly against his that even that damned armor felt inconsequential as I cursed how little distance lay between us and the cabin where light from the surrounding hanger already breached the Marauder’s halls to jostle us back to a too impatient present.
Crosshair was waiting out there. As was Hunter… and Wrecker… And my heart fluttered once more at the trepidation of relearning each of them amidst this new reality. But that trepidation was no longer born of pure dread… Despite every sliver of common sense screaming that this was bound to break us, despite the danger constantly looming beyond every corner, I couldn’t deny the real reason my heart was racing as Echo finally stepped away from me in those last few meters to the yawning doorway atop the ramp, his lips still softened with a smile and swollen from my kiss. Despite everything… I was excited.
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Another chapter that leaves me feeling soft and warm and also leaves me with dread and yearning for what's to come
