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peach rings & potatoes

Summary:

"Echo?" Tech asks as he swoops down to pick up the quarter-empty bag of gummy rings. "How many did you eat?"

"Uhh," Echo pulls his hand out of the quilt and starts to count on his fingers. When he gets through all five on his left hand he takes out his right and then stares dumbly at the scomp link. His eyes slowly travel back up Tech's. "At least six."
Tech stares at him, his eyes growing even wider than normal.

"Echo... these are medicated gummies."

[or, a little ditty about Echo (accidentally) getting high as hell ]

Notes:

~sometimes fic inspiration comes organically, and other times it appears in the midst of shitposting in discord DM's~

moonie really said--
"All I can think of is echo crying over his potatoes now and he’s like “wrecker this is so good and so thoughtful” but he’s also. Still crying" and "Echo high. that's the only way he's crying without immense pain"
--and somehow that turned into over 3k words of Echo navigating an accidental edibles high???

(considering the last echo fic I posted did include him crying because of immense pain, I feel like it's only appropriate I restore some balance with this one)

anyways- this one is for you, moonie, and wrecker's tear-worthy potatoes

- - -

 

If you are reading this as part of the Recalibration Series, this story is in the same AU as Adjustments for Life and Personality (and How it Hurts), but this is written standalone. It takes place many months post-Adjustments.

Work Text:

With Echo's steady buildup of the old ARC exercises, he found his appetite had finally begun to return. This was good for the sake of filling out his bony frame, but it also meant he often got peckish during the day and would scour the Marauder for leftovers and snacks. It was on one of these scavenges when he found a small sack of colorful gummy rings tucked into the back of the pantry compartment.

They seemed sufficient enough to satisfy his sweet tooth and had no markings or notes otherwise claiming dibs, so Echo settles down in his bunk with the candies and a holofilm. They're a pleasant enough flavor. An obviously fake, yet distinct essence of peaches. Despite the slight twang of staleness that lingers in the aftertaste, they're not bad.

Eventually, he gets sucked into the film, completely forgetting about the bag quarter-full beside him. It's relaxing. Enjoyable. The others are either out scavenging, exploring, or just spending time outside so he has the Marauder to himself. Echo stretches out, pulling the soft blanket over himself and half-dozing in and out as the film continues.

Everything is just... perfect. The quilt warm around his body. The soft voices of the actors and actresses filling the barracks. It's a happy movie— a romantic comedy about a Coruscanti commercial real estate agent traveling to an Outer Rim farming community in hopes of spreading business into that side of the galaxy. Echo thought it was a bit cheesy at the beginning, but now that it's nearing the end he can't stop giggling at everything that happens.

Thank the stars I'm alone, he thinks when the real estate agent ends up face first in a puddle of mud in a poor attempt to impress the farmer love interest and his laugh echoes through the ship. He's vaguely aware that his reaction is disproportionate to the actual comedy of the film but... it feels good to laugh. He feels good. His body feels light and sort of numb, but not in the bad way. In the elated way, like when he wins a tough spar or is having a lighthearted night with his brothers.

Speaking of his brothers, heavy footsteps approach. Echo's happy-go-lucky feeling vanishes and instead is replaced with slight panic over being caught.

Caught? Caught doing what? I'm not doing anything wrong...

He slips from his bottom bunk and climbs to the top one to be more out of view. He isn't sure of the answer to that question... all he knows is he feels like he should be hiding. Echo squints through the hazy room—

Why are the lights so bright and blurry?

— watching the entryway with perfect focus—

sounded like Hunter... or maybe Wrecker? but they should've come in here by now

—like they taught him in ARC training. Echo is perfectly still, pressed flat with the quilt tucked over his head like a ghillie suit.

The footsteps never come to fruition, but Echo remains vigilant. Maybe it wasn't one of his brothers at all— maybe it was an intruder and they heard him moving and left...

His breath hitches and he pulls the quilt tighter around his head. Who would ever just walk onto a ship like that? Not unless they were Imperial and they were looking for our particular ship...

Oh no. I gotta warn them.

Echo quickly pulls his commlink out. Hunter and Omega went for a walk and Tech and Crosshair were testing this new tool Tech developed for more efficient scavenging. That leaves Wrecker, who said something about digging around for root vegetables. He invited Echo to go along, but he was far too tired from his run to be bending over and digging all afternoon. Not wanting to bother the others over nothing, Echo figures Wrecker would be the closest and least busy.

"Wrecker?" Echo whispers into his commlink.

"Echo?"

"Wrecker, are you close to the ship?"

"Uhhh, almost back. Why're you whispering?"

So those footsteps couldn't have been Wrecker earlier. Echo looks up at the doorway suspiciously and then brings the commlink close to his lips again.

"No time to explain," he says. "Just get back here."

Echo cuts the line, resuming his watch of the door.

This time when the footsteps descend up the ramp, Echo is ready. He keeps the quilt curled around himself, but ready to pounce at any moment. Wrecker said he'd be back soon but you can never be so sure.

"Echo?"

The voice is definitely Wrecker's, and the next moment the brawler appears with a bag slung over his shoulders. His eyes immediately go to Echo's empty bunk, and then his eyebrows draw together in confusion.

"Wrecker!" Echo cries, jumping down from the top bunk. Wrecker looks startled, dropping his bag when Echo's prosthetics make a loud boom as they reverberate off the durasteel floor.

"What the—" Echo cuts him off by running up, wrapping his arms around his waist, and hugging him tightly. It takes Wrecker a second to react, but he eventually pats Echo's back. "Uhh, you good?"

Echo pulls back, his eyes wide. "Someone was trying to get into the ship earlier."

"What? Who?"

He rocks from heel to toe. "Well... I didn't see anyone. Just heard footsteps."

Wrecker is staring at him as though he has three heads.

"'Kay... well ya know Tech has our campsite rigged with motion sensors, right? Anyone who doesn't have a key thing activates the alarm."

Oh right. I forgot about that. Echo helped install that system, but that's beside the point.

"Right..." Echo nods, the feeling of his head bouncing up and down feeling really good so he keeps doing it a few extra times.

"I, uh, was gonna bake some potatoes," he gestures down to the lumpy bag he carried in.

As if on cue, Echo's stomach rumbles.

"Potatoes?" he says as though they're a mystical creature.

"Yeah, sliced up and cooked with some olive oil and salt. Ya want some?"

Echo nods again, much more enthusiastic this time. That sounds incredible. Wrecker stares at him another long moment and then picks up the bag. "Alright buddy, I'll go do that."

Wrecker disappears, and Echo pulls the quilt back on top of his head and slips back into his bunk. The worry about someone breaking in melts away. Wrecker is right. Tech did install that security system. So if anyone was walking up to the ship, it had to be one of the guys. Or Omega. But she's also included in the guys.

He sighs deeply, staring up at the lights. They've been replaced enough times with numerous different types and brands of bulbs so some are warm-toned and others are cool. Then there's one that's kinda a greenish hue that Echo has no idea where they got— probably some random market as a last resort because Tech can't stand when something on the Marauder is out of place. The lights being different colors is a small price to pay to claim the ship is fully functional. Even so, Echo has heard the genius' under-the-breath musings about getting them all changed out one day.

One day. Such a noncommittal point in time. One day could be tomorrow, or next month, or it could have been weeks ago and they missed it already. Echo prefers specific points in time. I will get a replacement arm for my scomp link— next month. We will have a family game night— tomorrow. Someone will come rescue me— tonight.

Echo's throat goes dry. He rolls over to the other side, leaving the soft glow of the lights at his back. Every time he was conscious on Skako Minor he believed in one day being free. As it turns out, when every day can be that one day, it opens you up for a lot more disappointment.

But that day did come.

Echo smiles. Like his over-the-top laugh at the stupid movie earlier, he is grinning at the memory of his rescue. Rex was there and Tech helped unhook him and then he was with all of them. They visited him in the med bay while the doctors looked him over— Echo hated the doctors and though he just met all these guys they seemed to just... know not to leave him completely alone.

Every time he opened his eyes one or more of them were loitering nearby. Hunter leaning against the door. Wrecker sitting on an empty bed with Crosshair leaning against his shoulder cleaning his rifle. Tech on the floor, nose in his datapad. Rex and the other 501st boys were always around, but Echo definitely noticed the black and red armor standing out among the blue and white.

 

 

Footsteps— more than one this time. Echo flips around to face Tech and Crosshair who are in the midst of a seemingly in-depth discussion about some part of the device Tech was toying around with.

"...am telling you, it is not the compressor that was faulty it had to be the power cell that caused the blockage and subsequent combustion of the core."

Crosshair is shaking his head, looking like he's about to reply when his eyes flicker over to Echo. He raises an eyebrow, looking the supine-lying clone up and down before flicking his toothpick to the other side curiously.

"What's up with you?"

Echo realizes Crosshair is talking to him. Tech looks up from his device to follow Cross's gaze and now Echo has two pairs of eyes staring him down. He opens his mouth to say something, but his tongue feels big and his mouth is too dry to form words.

Now he's piqued Tech's attention. His magnified eyes look over Echo in detail as he comes closer. They eventually land on the abandoned bag of gummies that must have fallen to the floor in one of Echo's sudden jolts of movement.

"Echo?" Tech asks as he swoops down to pick up the bag. Crosshair is peering over his shoulder at the whole exchange. "How many did you eat?"

"Uhh," Echo pulls his hand out of the quilt and starts to count on his fingers. When he gets through all five on his left hand he takes out his right and then stares dumbly at the scomp link. His eyes slowly travel back up Tech's. Crosshair has disappeared suddenly, the sound of suppressed laughter now echoing through the barracks. "At least six."

Tech stares at him, his eyes growing even wider than normal.

"Echo... these are medicated gummies."

"Medicated?"

"You're high as a Coruscanti speeder right now," Crosshair manages through his laughter.

"Cross—" Tech tries to cut him off, but the sniper looks more amused than he's been in weeks.

"Aren't you?"

Echo stares between the worried face of Tech and Crosshair who just might die of laughter. And then he looks at the gummies, which... now that Tech mentions it did have a bit of a strange aftertaste that perhaps wasn't staleness.

All Echo can really do is stare blankly. Tech sighs, and starts typing something on his datapad.

"I am going to let Hunter—"

"Nooooo," Echo reaches out for Tech, swatting at his hand that's just out of reach. Tech stares at him with wide eyes until he raises it enough for Echo to take it. The ARC laces his fingers with Tech's and shoots him his best baby-tooka eyes. "Don't tell Hunter."

"Echo, do not be ridiculous, you are not in trouble, but I should let Hunter know that you will likely be severely compromised for the next— wait, when did you eat these?" To be honest, Echo has no idea what time it is now, or when he actually watched that movie. So he shrugs. "Well... by my estimation very many hours."

"Why'd you guys even have these on the ship?" Echo moans. Tech, probably tired of the uncomfortable angle Echo is holding his hand at, sidesteps to sit on the edge of the bunk.

"We found them on some reg's ship we were forced to fly on for a joint mission," Crosshair explains, evidently running out of laughter. "they were dicks to us, and Hunter found their stash so we decided to confiscate it."

"Drug paraphernalia is strictly prohibited in the GAR," Tech nods as though that explains why they still had it in their pantry.

Echo lets his head lull against the bottom of the bunk, sighing deeply. "Many hours?"

"Very many," Tech slips his hand from Echo's and pats him on the shoulder.

 

 

Time passes, but Echo can't be sure how much. He's never been high, but now that he knows he is, the soft rings that encircle the lights and his heartbeat trapped in his fingertips suddenly make sense.

Tech did some quick research before he and Crosshair disappeared into the cockpit to fix the scavenging device. Luckily, taking too many gummies won't hurt him. It'll probably just make him feel pretty sick and out of it for a while. Knowing that was comforting at least. He fetched Echo's canteen, filled it up, and recommended he take a shower at some point before trying to sleep it off.

That seemed easy enough. Echo can drink water and lay in bed and maybe even shower if he can get himself upright again. His legs do feel a little like noodles— which is funny because they're made of durasteel and that's like... the opposite of noodles— and his head is kinda spinning so he decides staying curled up in his bunk is the best course of action.

"Ay Echo, still awake?" Wrecker's voice rings out, and Echo suddenly remembers where the brawler has been all this time.

"Potatoes?" he asks, peeking around the corner of the bunk. Wrecker chuckles, a big plate in his hand.

"Yes, potatoes. Scoot," Echo's eyes widen and he forces himself to sit up to make room for Wrecker to squeeze in next to him. The sliced pieces of potatoes are golden brown and still steaming. Their warm aroma fills the barracks and nearly brings tears to Echo's eyes for some reason. Once Wrecker has situated himself next to him, Echo finds that he can't quite keep himself completely upright, so he leans into his larger brother's shoulder and reaches for one of the pieces. "How're you doin'?" Wrecker asks.

Echo almost forgets to respond because the first bite of the snack feels like it sends him into another dimension of existence. It's crispy on the outside and warm, soft, and tasty on the inside. For a few, blissful, moments, all Echo's troubles melt away into Wrecker's potatoes. Force, Echo could live in this singular point in time for the rest of his life. Eat nothing but baked potatoes and stare at the ceiling lights of the Marauder. Sounds great.

"Potatoes," he hums happily, and Wrecker's body shakes with quiet laughter.

"Uh, huh. Tech said ya found something."

"Spiked peach rings," he nods. "Not as good as potatoes."

"I'm glad you like them,"

Like them? Echo hardly knows how to express the way he loves this food right now. The thought of not being able to convey that to Wrecker starts to stress him out so much those tears that threatened to fall earlier suddenly start leaking out.

"Echo?" Wrecker's arm wraps around his shoulders. "Hey, hey, what is it?"

"Wrecker..." he lays his head on Wrecker's shoulder. "these are so good. You're such a good cook, ya know that? Thank you for bringing me some I love them."

A pause hangs between them.

"You're... crying because of—"

"Potatoes," Echo finishes for him.

"Potatoes," he repeats with satisfaction and a chuckle and then squeezes Echo's shoulders. 

 

 

After raving about the movie Echo watched earlier for long enough, he finally wears Wrecker down and convinces him to watch one of the other ones he has downloaded on his datapad.

"Wait... thought you said the real estate agent went to the farm," Wrecker whispers, staring with his brows drawn together at the screen.

"No, no, no, that was the other movie. This one has a beautiful but work-devoted Twi'lek from Alderaan that visits her new family inheritance in the Ryloth countryside."

"But... she's not answering her work comms anymore because she's runnin' round with that gardener."

"That's the point, Wrecks, she's realizing she wasn't happy being overworked and underappreciated. And she didn't realize how much she missed her family."

"Oh," he frowns at the screen a little longer, "are we overworked and underappreciated?" 

"Probably."

"Thought so," he mutters, but when Echo glances up at him there's a smile on his face.

 

 

It's around the time of the movie when the main characters officially profess their love for one another that soft footsteps run up the ramp and Omega bursts into the room with Hunter on her heels.

"Echo!" she says with wide eyes. "Are you feeling better?"

"Feeling—"

"Tech said you were sick?"

Echo looks from Omega to Hunter's pleading eyes and then back to the kid. "Yeah, kid, I'm uh, feeling a little better."

Hunter taps her shoulder and mutters something about the cockpit. The girl nods and runs up to go find Tech and Crosshair. Once her voice disappears behind the doors of the cockpit Hunter folds his arms across his chest, looking at Echo with amusement.

"Echo, buddy, what happened?"

"Hey," Echo accusatorially points at Hunter with his scomp link. "Tech said I wouldn't be in trouble."

The sergeant keels over with soft laughter. "You're not in trouble... It's just not every day I have Tech comming me to tell me you downed half a pack of drugs."

"Accidentally. I accidentally ate a pack of gummies that had no warning about the other things in them." 

Hunter laughs again and then makes his way to the bunk, crawling in on the other side of Echo. "Right. And how do you feel?"

"I'm very aware of the walls right now," Echo says deadpan, glancing around the barracks. "They kinda look like they're melting."

"How are you handling that?"

"Better than he handled the potatoes," Wrecker grins, and Echo looks up at him with betrayal.

"We promised to never mention that again!"

"You promised."

Echo groans, letting his head lob against the back of the bunk. It's Hunter's arm that hooks around his shoulders now, and Echo falls into his touch like a rag doll. His eyelids suddenly feel heavier than before and he slumps deeper into the cocoon of his quilt.

"Tech said I should shower and nap," Echo mumbles into his shoulder.

"Uh-huh. And have you?"

"No. Had to see if Mili was gonna stay on Ryloth with Quenten."

"Did she?"

Echo glances at the datapad screen and then nods.

"She did. It was a beautiful scene."

The other two chuckle and Echo feels him getting shifted from being sandwiched to now lying down. He's not quite sure how Wrecker or Hunter moved that fast, but here he is. A heavy hand pats his shoulder.

"Sleep well, buddy," Wrecker says softly.

"We'll be around if you need us..."

 

 

Echo awakes a few more times that day, each to drastically different stages of his gummy high. He does force himself up and take a shower at one point, quickly wrapping himself back into bed and sleeping for a couple more hours after. It isn't until daybreak the next day when Echo finally opens his eyes and the lights don't have halos.

His relief is palpable. When he meets the others already up for breakfast, he finds them huddled around Tech's datapad. Crosshair is the first to notice him up and about, his lips spreading in a mischievous grin.

"Back from the dead?" he asks.

Echo, now nursing a bit of a headache, groans, and grabs for the caff. "Never eating anything I didn't buy myself again," he grumbles.

Suppressed laughs come from all boys, and now Echo clues in that they're hiding something.

"What? Whatever's going on, I don't like it..."

He really should have known they would be taking holos the whole time.