Review Replies:

StoriesAreMagic: *bows* Ah-thank-you. Nothing too concerning his happening between Jay and Nya, she's just worried about him. He has just lost an eye. Poor Echo indeed.

LucyBrick123: Aw, thank you ::) I'm sorry for not updating in so long. I was in a bit of a writing funk. I hope you like this chapter too!

Nora Mutao Frost: Thank you! Don't worry, everything's all good ::) Indeed, trauma is a scar that never truly goes away.

TheAmberShadow: Pffft, to be honest, I thought it was just a funny thing they threw in for laughs when I first watched Day of the Departed XXD Boy, was I wrong. Yeah, thanks for pointing that bit out! I went back and fixed it. I feel dumb for completely missing that, damn XXD The random LIGHTHOUSE thing was actually inspired by a book I've recently read- The Survival Game by Nicky Singer- and it's explained a bit in this chapter. There's this girl that's been through a heckton of trauma, so she locks everything away in an imaginary tower she calls Castle and whenever her thoughts wander dangerously close, she interrupts herself with CASTLE. It's something that I thought could be applied to Echo wonderfully. Honestly, college was not getting in the way of me writing. Nothing was. I have had more than enough time to write this past year than I have in ages, but I just... I dunno. I was in a bit of writing funk, I guess. And I was putting a lot of it into writing my book, which I've rewritten about... six times now? So yeah.

Nerdeology-000: Aw, I'm so happy that you like it enough to reread it! Hope you like this chapter too ::D

Smile4the-World: Thank you ::) It means a lot! Hope you like this update!

NaninaDaPanda: Yaaay! I'm glad I made you happy ::D And I'm also super glad to be updating again as well! Hope you have a nice day/night too! (Nay? Dight? Daght. Daight. Eh.)

Why am I uploading this at a later hour than usual? I've been binge-playing my new video game. I have beat said video game.

Chapter Five:

Lighthouse

The lighthouse was safe.

Echo wasn't sure when he started using it. When he started shoving every little thing through its rickety old door, started nailing in lock after lock after lock and throwing away key after key after key. All the bad things locked away in the middle of a sea, surrounded by jagged rocks and something, something lurking beneath the waves. Far out of reach, where no one could find it. Where no one could remember it.

It was something he had been doing, he was certain, even before he left the real lighthouse. The skeletons and the bullet had been the first to be locked away. And now it was the dripping, the darkness, the stabbing, icy cold as he tried to swim to freedom but sank because he had never learnt, sank and drowned and drowned and-

LIGHTHOUSE

And then there was the blood, wasn't there? The blood, the blade, the butterfly, the sack, the mangled hands and the twisted grin and the glint of the snake mask against the blinking red light of the camera and the wicked whir of the drill-

LIGHTHOUSE

All of it. Shoved into the darkest corners and sealed away, locked up tight, put under layer upon layer of wall and wall and lock and lock and jagged rock and monsters so that no one could ever reach it. That no one could ever find it and surpass it. Not even Echo.

But more importantly, so nothing could ever get out.

The lighthouse was safe.

There was nothing that could hurt him there.

"We can go home, if you want."

Echo jerked his head, "No- No, m'fine."

Zane frowned, hesitating. Worried. "You're sure? We can watch another movie or… something."

"No," Echo murmured again, even though the side of his chest cavity was aching dully; but it usually did that after an attack, "M'okay."

His brother was quiet for a long moment. They were sitting on the front steps to the museum, Zane's arm wrapped around him, protective and safe and (funnily enough) warm. If Echo listened close enough, he could hear the near-silent whir of his brothers' heart. So different from his own ticking clockwork.

Finally, Zane sighed.

"Okay," he said, "But tell me if something's wrong, okay?"

Echo nodded. Zane gave him a squeeze, then pulled him into a proper hug.

"Good."

"Thank you so much for such an informative tour, Dr Saunders," Wu was saying, as he and the others came out the front doors. He shook the man's hand, who beamed at them, before returning to his shop.

Wu turned to his students, "Ninja, at the eclipse's peak, we will return here for the concert. But first, we must for forth and honour those we have lost. Those who have departed."

They began to make their way back to the vehicles. Zane stood and helped Echo to his feet, before taking him by the hand and leading him back to the Titanium Tumbler. The younger bot buckled himself in with only slightly shaky fingers, his older brother glancing back at him over his shoulder before turning the key, allowing the engine to rumble to life.

With that, they began to drive off, the other waving and shouting, "Happy Day of the Departed!" Then they all veered off to the sides, kicking up large clouds of sand. Echo pressed his face to the glass, watching them. He shot a curious look towards the entrance of the museum, where Cole's vehicle sat alone.

They rounded the corner and the vehicle was out of sight.

The drive was of some length, but the Ninja had chosen which town they were to stay close to during the holiday quite strategically. Everyone wanted to be somewhere specific for the majority of it: Jay wanted to meet up with his parents at their house, Kai and Nya wanted to return to their parents old forge, and Lloyd wanted to go to a canyon of sorts, where he'd lost his father and where a statue had been built in his honour. They were able to find a town where these locations were less than two hours away for everybody. Even more convenient, Cole's father was performing in this town, so Cole himself didn't actually have to drive anywhere- which was good, considering his hometown was the furthest.

It took roughly forty minutes for the desert around them to slowly, inch by inch, become layers of snow. The trees were thin and far-spaced, bare branches weighed down by heaps of white. The moon glinted dimly off it.

Echo pressed his face right up against the glass, peering out at the white world that had, for years, been his brothers. It was so different from the rocky shores of the lighthouse, with waves crashing against jagged rocks and something, something lurking beneath the surface. So different. And yet, in some strange way, a little similar.

"Keep an eye out for treehorns, alright?" Zane said, "They're really big, so you can't miss them. If you see one, tell me. Okay?"

Echo nodded, eyes still glued to the window. He didn't realise his brother wasn't looking at him, because, well, he was driving, until he glanced back, frowning.

"Echo?"

"He nodded, Zane," came PIXAL's voice, amusement lacing her tone. Echo blinked, as though pulled from a trance, and looked at them. Surprise crossed Zane's face, before he chuckled and turned back to the snowy, makeshift path ahead of him.

"Alright. As so long as you're listening."

Echo returned his attention back to the window. Within the next fifteen minutes, they were pulling to a stop in a small clearing. Zane unbuckled and climbed out of the Titanium Tumbler, snow crunching beneath his feet, and looked at him expectantly. Echo unbuckled as well, moving to jump out after him, but faltered. He'd never seen snow at the lighthouse, and although he'd practically covered Stiix in the stuff, he'd never had the time to look and appreciate and touch. He and Kaze had been too busy trying to put as much distance between them and the town over water as fast as possible.

"Everything okay?" Zane asked, when he didn't move. Echo nodded automatically, but he didn't get out the car for a long moment. Finally, just as his brother was beginning to frown, Echo tentatively slid out of the car and onto the snow.

It crunched beneath his feet, white and surprisingly soft. He lifted one foot, blinking at the imprint he'd left behind, before lightly kicking at the white. It sprayed into the air briefly. He did it again. Then again, until he was giggling and it was soaking into the leg of his pants. Zane watched, torn between amused and confused, lips twitching into a small smile. He gave a little laugh himself.

"Okay, buddy," he said, tugging him against his side, "Come on. I wanna show you something."

He led him away from the vehicle, leaving Gizmo to sit in the driver's seat with the heating on after the little bot decided that he despised the snow with every wire in his body after he realised he would have to pick up his wheels and stumble about in it. A light dust of snowflakes floated lazily down from the sky. The snow crunched and compacted together beneath their feet, leaving behind a winding path of footprints back to the car in an otherwise barren, perfectly white world.

Echo kicked up a few tufts of snow some more along the way. With the car still insight, only somewhat obscured by the thin trees, Zane came to a stop. Echo looked up from where he was still kicking at the snow, blinking at the bark of the particularly thick tree in front of them. He shot Zane a confused look, but the older bot wasn't looking at him; he was running searching fingers along the edges of the tree, electric blue eyes narrowed in concentration.

His fingers caught on something. Then, grinning victoriously, Zane pulled open a hidden hatch, revealing the hollow insides of the tree trunk and the dark staircase leading down.

Echo's eyes widened, "Whoa…"

Zane shot him a smile, "Come on."

He took him by the hand, gently tugging him along and onto the landing. Wood creaked beneath their feet, and Echo was hit with the smell of old oil, ageing wood and mechanical parts. He was immediately reminded of the lighthouse, with its boxes of gears and wires and the grease-stained tools scattered about. Except it was different. Similar, but incredibly different. Because the lighthouse was cold stone and towering walls, the lighthouse was seagulls and crashing waves. And this place, these insides of a tree, were not the lighthouse.

No. The tree was chilly and vacant, covered in layers of dust, but Echo was almost certain that it hadn't always been this way. Was certain that, at some point, in some other time, this tree had been full of life. That the tree had been warm. Sometime before Echo.

Zane led him down the stairs, taking slow, careful steps. Echo wasn't sure whether he was afraid the stairs would cave in or whether it was because his eyes were too busy roaming around, taking in the old room before them and seeing, perhaps, what it had once been. What it had once meant.

Zane came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Echo paused just behind him on the second step; he could see over his brothers head this way, and glanced around, taking in the insides of the tree. The workbenches scattered with forgotten tools and old blueprints, the stuffed and overflowing bookshelf, the two beds, the pictures on the walls. Pictures of Zane, pale skinned and pure white haired rather than titanium, and their father, much younger than Echo had ever seen him.

"I grew up here," Zane said, turning to look at him with a smile, "It's where I was built."

Echo's eyes widened, although he had been beginning to suspect this. Squeezing his hand, Zane led him into the old home and over to one of the desks scattered with blueprints. He let the younger bot tentatively shuffle through them, before he paused and slowly pulled out the blueprints that built Zane.

They were much neater than Echo's had ever been. Neater in the sense that they were more thought out, more precise, more accurate. And far more advanced, if the listed equipment was anything to go by. Although Echo had known this from the start. There was something about the confirmation that made his chest clench, as much as he didn't want it to.

He supposed he really was a pile of scrap.

Somewhat hastily, Echo turned away from the blueprints and began to explore the treehouse- if it could technically be considered a treehouse, but he didn't really have much of a better way to describe it. He studied the pictures, the lack of lines and age and weariness on his father's face, how young the look in his brother's eyes was. There was no Gizmo- Echo had never considered that he might have not been built at the lighthouse, but he was fairly certain now that he had not been- but there was Falcon, perched in one photo on Zane's arm.

"Hey, Echo," the other nindroid called, "Come over here."

Echo found him further back in the treehouse, squeezed into a tight space between the wall and a shelf. There were boxes of various size stacked in this tight space, and Zane was kneeling down, rummaging through one. The younger droid cocked his head, trying to peer inside, but his brother's head was in the way.

After a moment, Zane pulled back, glancing over his shoulder. He smiled. "Check it out."

Echo inched closer, squeezing into the tight space next to Zane. He looked into the box and blinked.

It was full of toys. Old toys, from the looks of it, but they had clearly been cared for. There was a wooden toy car with black wheels that spun when Echo swept his hand over them. A toy rabbit with a somewhat frayed ear and a purple tie. A few jigsaw puzzles and children's books. And, tucked neatly in a yellow folder at the bottom, drawings. Messy, childish crayon drawings with Zane's name scribbled in green in even messier handwriting.

A sudden chuckle in his ear. Zane was looking over his shoulder.

"I remember those," he said, "I was so proud of them. Father hung them up on the walls."

"He… He did?" Echo asked, something cold in his stomach. Zane nodded, his eyes growing a little bit distant; his smile faltered, but he didn't say anything. Carefully, Echo slid the drawings back into the folder and returned them to the box. Trying not to think about his own drawings. The ones he'd later often find in the trash.

"Echo?"

He turned to his brother, grateful for the distraction. Zane was frowning, but he didn't look worried. He looked sad.

"I'm sorry," he said, "That we left you there."

Echo blinked, "What? Zane-"

"Why aren't you mad at him?" Zane cut him off, "After what he did to you. After how he just… forgot about you. Doesn't that… Doesn't that make you upset?"

Echo was quiet. Of course it hurt. Everything about it hurt. But he knew it wasn't his father's fault. Not really. It wasn't his fault the skeletons had taken him away. It wasn't his fault he'd had a bullet pointed to his head. It wasn't his fault that they'd broken him, then taken him back to the lighthouse and dumped him long after he'd been found and rescued by Zane and the Ninja. It wasn't his fault, because his father had thought he'd never see him again. And why would he want to, when he had the real Zane again?

Why would anyone want an echo, when they could have the original?

The tree was incredibly different from the lighthouse. Mostly because Zane was everywhere. His old things, his old bed, his old drawings, his old toys, his old books, the pictures of him still hanging on the walls. And where had Echo been in the lighthouse? He'd never own anything. He'd never had his own bed, despite the many rooms. He'd never had toys or books. He'd never had pictures of him and his father or him and Gizmo or just him hanging on the walls. His drawings had never been kept, neat and safe, in a protective, waterproof folder. No one had even realised he'd existed.

But the skeletons, a little voice protested, The thing in the water- if they had seen you, if they had known you were there…

He loved you. He had to have loved you.

Then why did he forget him?

Zane was looking at him. Echo wished he wouldn't. His tongue had swollen in his mouth (which was impossible) and wouldn't move. Wouldn't form any words. His brother almost appeared pained now. Still looking at him. Still waiting for an answer. For an action. For him to do anything.

Finally, Echo did the only thing he could think of. He closed the tiny gap of distance between them and buried his face into his brother's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him and clinging on. Zane stiffened in his surprise, but he was quick to return the hug, to bring him close and hold him.

It didn't matter, Echo decided. It didn't matter, even if it hurt, even if he still loved his father and knew he would never love him back, because now he had Zane. He had his brother. And that was enough for him.

They left the treehouse a little while later, although not before Zane let him pick out a few things from the toy box to take home. They put them in the car, Echo deciding to carry Gizmo, and retrieved their lanterns, before they found a decently big, snowy clearing.

"Stand back," said Zane, sitting his lantern down, "I don't want to accidentally hit you."

Echo did as he was told, taking a few steps away. Gizmo beeped in his arms.

For a moment, Zane stood still. Then he brought his hands up, frost creeping along his gloves and up his sleeves, and then there was ice. It blasted from his palms in jagged spikes, latching onto the snow. Then it began to build upon each other, Zane steadily raising his hands with it. It shifted and turned and within moments it wasn't just a giant lump of smooth ice, but a face. A body. Hands. And then the face of Echo's father was smiling at him, a smile he must have only seen once or twice in his entire time with him. A genuine one.

Zane stepped back, a proud smile on his face. He took his lantern and fit it into the statue's hand, before gesturing for Echo to come over. The younger bot did so, still staring up at his father's face; Zane took his lantern and fit it into the other hand.

They both stepped back, taking it in. The ice gleamed in the red glow of their lanterns. Everything about it was precise, perfect and beautiful; something only the master of ice could create. In Echo's arms, Gizmo gave an appreciative beep.

Dr Julian. Their father.

Slowly, Echo's eyes trailed away from his smiling face and down to the two lanterns in his hands. Something heavy settled in his gears. He wondered if his lantern truly belonged there. If he belonged here. If he should even be here, remembering a man that had never remembered him, standing next to his son. His real son. His original.

Shut up, he clenched his jaw, Shut up. It doesn't matter. You still loved him. Isn't that enough?

Was it?

Zane sighed and Echo turned to look at him. His brother's blue gaze was still on the statue, but his smile had slipped into a frown. He looked… sad.

"I always thought he was a good man," he said, quietly, "A good person with a good heart who… who loved what he did and those around him. He told me once that he'd done terrible things, but… I never blamed him for anything. Nothing the skeletons did was his fault. None of the things they forced him to build that they used to hurt people was his fault. He was good. And yet... "

He trailed off. Echo remained silent, listening to the quiet ticking, almost inaudible ticking of his clockwork heart. Finally, Zane tore his eyes from the statue and looked at him.

"What do you think he would say?" he asked, still quiet, almost… almost desperate, "If he were to see you again- if he were to find out you were okay, that we found you, that we're brothers… what would you say?"

A silence. Echo could see it now; he was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. Surprised his brother had hidden it so well until now- from him, at least. The desperation. The silent plea for him to find out that his father wasn't a bad person, that this had all been a mistake, that he hadn't really meant to never tell anyone about Echo. That Echo wasn't even supposed to be an exact copy of Zane to begin with, that he only looked like him and had his name because that was the only way he could build him. The hope that, if Dr Julian had somehow been able to see them again, he would be ecstatic at the sight of Echo. Relieved. Crying tears of joy.

That, in some other world, they might have all been a real family.

Something inside Echo ached. Because no matter how much they both may have wanted it, he couldn't give it to him. He couldn't tell him that Julian would have been happy to see him. Couldn't promise that the man had loved him down to the bottom of his heart. Couldn't reassure him that he had ever really cared about him.

Because Echo didn't think he believed that anymore.

"I don't know," he admitted, finally.

Zane's shoulders slumped. Echo wondered if he should have simply lied. Maybe it would've been better.

"Yeah," the titanium droid murmured, "I don't know either."

He pulled Echo into another hug. The younger bot buried his face into his brother's shoulder, closing his eyes and allowing himself to relax. The lighthouse had been safe, mostly. It had been secure. Especially once the skeletons left and never returned. But Zane… Zane was safe too. He was there for him. He was strong and brave and everything Echo wasn't.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe, Zane could be his lighthouse. Maybe.

Neither brother noticed their lanterns flicker green.

Day of the Departed is taking longer than I expected XXD Then again, I hadn't really considered how many chapters it would take. I think we're going to have about two or three more chapters of this, then we'll branch off a bit like we did in Empty Echoes.

Well, hope you guys liked this! I'll see you Wednesday after next.