Just here for the clones.

Thorn controlling electricity on an ecumenopolis was just as useful for their role as a military force on the homefront as Stone’s capacity to learn secrets thanks to the whispers of millions of voices only he could hear. And while being able to conjure any weapon of his choice from the closest vicinity would have helped Thire on the front lines, it was just as handy for both his missions off-world and as a shock trooper. But Fox’s ability wasn't just handy on Coruscant. Fox’s connection to the planet was much deeper. He was Coruscant’s ears and eyes. Sometimes he was even her hands, acting for her where she couldn't reach. And in exchange, she was his voice when he couldn't speak. She guided him whenever he needed a path. She was his anchor, keeping him from getting lost. Fox’s link to Coruscant was deeply emotional but also so much more than that. 

Echo had always thought it was a question of trust as well. Coruscant trusted Fox to be its corporeal messenger among mortal beings. And Fox… Fox was letting Coruscant take care of every emotion he couldn't express, everything he felt and that he had to hide, and that talked louder than anything else about how much Fox trusted his planet. 

For the past two months, Coruscant had cried for Fox, grieved in his place. Coruscant had told of the pain that the Commander in chief of the Coruscant Guard had to hide. But today, the rain had calmed to an agitated truce. 

The pilot had said they had been lucky to arrive right for a lull in the endless storm. They wouldn't have been able to land on the planet's surface if not for it. Echo had said nothing. He barely said a word of the entire trip, too lost in his thoughts at the prospect of the incoming meeting. 

Fox was not someone who let people enter in his life easily, and he let them take root there even less. Echo didn't remember if their Commander had told them directly or made them understand a different way, as he tended to do, but he and Fives knew why. Sometimes it felt like he had always known. Sometimes, Echo could swear he had known Fox for as long as he did Fives. How could he ignore that Fox’s problem wasn't any lack of emotion, like some rumours had it ? With how much Fox loved and how strongly he cared, those rumours had always sounded ridiculous to Echo. And now, as he looked down on Coruscant covered in thick, dark clouds, he could never forget why Fox didn't let people in easily. It was the only way he had to try and control the power other people had on him. 

Echo and Fives did what they wished they’d never do. They broke Fox against their will, hurted him like he could never be hurt. Echo saw it in every cloud, he felt it every time the wind grew too strong and shaked the shuttle like a rag in a kaminoan storm. Hopefully, he will be able to mend him back. Hopefully, in the pieces of Fox that he’ll try to put back together, he will find a little bit of place to mend Fives and himself there as well.

The plastoid of the armor Tech insisted on fitting him creaked slightly under his grip. Rex looked up at him, Echo ignored it. He still loosened his fingers where they had been tightening on his thigh. The landing felt like it lasted an eternity for the short minutes that it truly took. Getting out of the shuttle wasn't much better. Echo felt clumsy with his prosthetics, the noise of them clanking on the durasteel grated in his ears. At least Rex had the kindness of letting him get out first, waiting patiently behind. 

He had barely put his feet on the ground before he stopped, breath stuck in his throat, for just a second. Echo hadn't expected to see Fox on the other side of the landing platform, hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixed on him. For all his bravado in front of the Captain, Echo hadn't been completely honest with Rex. He hadn't known how he’d react to seeing Fox. He liked to lie to himself by thinking that it was because of much more complex and messy reasons than what Rex wanted to make it look like. The time that had passed, the hell he had just been rescued from — so much things had built between them. The truth, of course, was much simpler and harder to accept. 

When he stepped out of the larty and saw Fox, waiting for him, always waiting, he thought he was going to freeze. Right there and then, under the wind, under those hidden eyes. He had regretted not putting his own helmet on, chastised himself for wanting to hide what he had become. And yet, impossibly, naturally, he kept moving. He walked all the way down to Fox, just like he did so many times before. 

“Hi.” Echo wasn't expecting the small smile lifting the corners of his mouth, neither was Fox. 

“Echo...” 

He heard the shuddering breath, saw without seeing the way Fox clenched his fists behind his back. 

Fox had shot Fives with the intent to kill. Echo couldn't shake away the weight of it, as much as he wanted to. Neither could Fox, standing in front of him, holding himself as straight as ever by sheer force of habit and nothing else. Fox had shot Fives, apparently without remembering his resurrection abilities, to kill him and keep him dead. They stayed silent, staring at each through Fox's visor, both of them left raw by everything that happened to them. 

Echo moved first, slowly reaching for Fox's helmet, leaving him time to stop him if he wanted to. When his hand reached the helmet, unsealing it, relief loosened his shoulders slightly. He hadn't been sure if Fox would let him do that. Belatedly, he also realized he had been waiting for Fox to flinch away from him. It didn't happen.

Fox looked pale, eyes red and bruised with exhaustion. He looked moments away from breaking apart and stared at Echo as if he was the one who would decide when it would happen. That, Echo was expecting. He had felt Coruscant holding its breath, wind falling completely, like the silent preparations that always preceded a storm. He knew that both man and planet were waiting for him to shatter the truce completely. The silence had been promising the worst of storms to come since the larty landed. He’d just have to prove them both wrong. Echo had been in enough explosions for the rest of his lifetime and was not planning to create a new one.

Putting his hand on Fox's cheek, once the helmet was secured under what was left of his right arm, was much easier than he thought. Guiding Fox into a keldabe kiss was as natural as the last time he saw him, two years ago. He felt Fox's breath shuddering on his skin, the Commander’s eyes stubbornly screwed shut to keep the tears at bay. He didn't know which one of them was clinging the most to the other. 

“I’m here”, Echo murmured, throat clicking. “It’s okay, I'm here.” 

Fox just held him tighter, head falling on his shoulder for a moment. It wasn't very comfortable for either of them, plastoid digging in their flesh, but that never stopped them before and it certainly wasn't going to start now. 

“Fox…” He started, lips pressed against his partner's hair. 

“Don't.” The Commander cut him, voice rougher than usual, rendered small by something else than disuse. “Don’t say anything, I can't know.”

Echo tensed, even as he kept his arms securely around Fox’s shoulders. It explained some of his questions. It created just as many new ones. Echo will definitely have to grill Thorn later. 

But for now, he didn't have the time to start thinking and plotting, Fox was pushing away from him. He didn't go far thankfully, hands not leaving Echo's shoulders. He didn't dislodge the ARCs’ grip either. 

“How are you doing ?” Fox asked, eyes scanning his face and body, tracking the changes. He obviously already knew what to look out for, brows barely twitching at the sight in front of him. Echo couldn't swallow back the fond huff at the proof that Fox read the report on his rescue. The Commander fussing, protective strike flaring shamelessly, felt so normal, so Fox. Echo just let him have at it, patiently waiting for the interrogation to end, a shaky smile dancing on his lips. 

Everything looked a little bit blurry, he wondered if it had started raining again. 

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