Okay Iāve been thinking about this headcanon I have that Echo told Tech about some of the things that went on with the Techno Union and I have to share my thoughts ASAP.
Tagging @phantom-of-the-501st because it was inspired by your post the other day so now you get to suffer the angst with me! Also @saturn-sends-hugs @floundrickthewayfarer @renton6echo because I feel like all of you might enjoy the pain āŗļø
Imagine if Echo couldnāt get the words out. Rex asked. He asked when they were finally alone for the first time. He put a hand over Echoās and asked about what went on, how bad it was, if he needed to talk about it. But Echo canāt seem to speak. He stares at Rex, thinks about how much he loves him, thinks about how it would destroy him to know how badly everything hurt, how much he lost, and instead he just shakes his head. Tears fill his eyes and he has to bite his lip to keep it from quivering and he doesnāt mean to but that scares Rex more than anything else couldāve. The comfort is clumsy. Rex is trying to figure out how to touch Echo without crossing any boundaries or freaking him out because suddenly every instinct in his body that tells him to touch is also telling him that it might get rejected. Echo might not want it. And after so long of not getting a choice Rex doesnāt want to be someone who doesnāt give him one.
Echo is desperate to hold onto where Rex is clinging to him but half of him wants to rip away. His skin feels too much. His brain is sending alarm bells. But Rexās arms are strong and heās warm, so warm after all that time being so damn cold, and heās muttering reassurances to him that he hasnāt heard in a long time and as confusing as it is he just lets himself heave anxious breaths, hot bitter tears sliding down his cheeks, as his skin burns, and his lungs constrict.
āI donāt remember,ā is what Echo wants to say but itād be a lie. So he just sits. And breathes. And tries to let Rex know that he still loves him, that nothing has changed.
He doesnāt say a word that night. He doesnāt talk about it for a long time.
Hunter asks sometimes but Echo knows heās not comfortable. He knows Hunter wouldnāt know what to do with what may come out of his mouth and putting that on him seems unfair. So he doesnāt. He just nods, curtly, and says heās adjusting. Hunter doesnāt believe him but for a man so sure in the battlefield heās never sure in their ship. Not when one of them has hurt they are directing at something he canāt see or touch. He still squeezes Echoās shoulder, says heās willing to listen if Echo wants to talk. He believes Hunter. Itās easy to when he seems so earnest. Itās kind of endearing, ya know? The way Hunter tries even when itās hard for him. Even when talking is the last thing he wants to do.
Echo doesnāt talk either. Not yet.
Not even when Wrecker tries to talk to him after a nightmare. When heās breathing so heavy his lungs hurt and everythingās blurry with tears and sleep. Wreckerās big hands cover his shoulders and he canāt help but thrash violently against it, afraid heāll be held down. Wrecker tries not to take it personally but heās hurt and Echo canāt handle the pain heās already causing. āJust sit with me, please.ā Echo forces through gritted teeth. Wrecker smiles like heās happy to, holds his hand for hours afterwards, but Echo knows he wants to know more. He canāt help but think itāll be smothering to have someone so eager to help. Itās unfair, he knows, but something wonāt let him. Heās too afraid of breaking so soon. Afraid of being too much. Hurt someone else with his own pain.
So he doesnāt talk that night either.
He tried to tell Crosshair. Heās not sure why. Thinking back on it maybe it was the silence. The quiet in the middle of the night. The way Crosshair asked why he wasnāt sleeping with the rest of the 99s. It was finally getting to the point where if he didnāt say it he would scream. The constant questions - āWhat happened to you back there?ā The looks. The worry. Crosshair didnāt seem like the type to be too mushy about it so he tried. But when he started he couldnāt keep going no matter how hard he tried. It freaked Crosshair out, even if heād never admit it, to see how quick Echo panicked. His body froze like an animal caught in a trap, and Crosshair sat as still as possible to avoid spooking him, unsure. Heād never seen him so unsure. Echo felt like he was ruining what fragile alliance theyād begun to build. When he stood to leave Crosshairās hand shot out to grab him, but that haunted look didnāt go away. It felt wrong to keep putting him through it, listening to something he couldnāt hear yet, something Echo wasnāt even prepared for.
So he kept his mouth shut a little longer.
Until Tech, that is. Briefly and easily during a physical to check on an injury heād gotten on their last mission. He pointed to a scar across his chest, dipping his gaze for a better look, ādid you have that scar before Skako?ā When he looks down he knows he didnāt. It was a jagged cut, given to him when he refused to let them tie him down without a fight. When he says that Tech hums, typing something into the datapad. Heās quick when he asks if there are others. His voice is steady, Echo realizes, his hands are too. His expression is neutral but his eyes, those are what makes Echo want to divulge. Too many mistake Techās logic, his straightforwardness, as being detached. Heās not, Echo knows, he sees. Itās written there, in how he always makes sure Echo doesnāt feel restrained, how he only touches when Echo knows heās coming, how he asks - careful, curious, simply. Obvious. Care bubbles from every word Tech says you just have to know how to listen.
So Echo talks. For the first time in a long time. He talks and saysā¦ some things. Not everything. Not even close. The lump in his throat stops him before he can. But Tech doesnāt push. He just nods, says something about how no one deserves that kind of treatment, then resumes the physical like itās normal. Like this is fine to talk about.
Echoās not fine. Heās torn up on the inside and has no way of knowing how to fix it. Heās afraid and unsure and itās almost too much for him to handle. But the 99s are here. And they care. And one day theyāll know more, when he can get the words out.
That night Tech listened and thatās a start.
