A very short ficlet I had the idea for. It's low-key linked to RagnarDaneskjold's excellent 'Crumbling' story which I also highly recommend you read.
She awoke thrashing, twisting and covered in sweat. Her body pumped with adrenaline as her eyes rapidly surveyed the room around her for danger. As usual, there wasn't anything there. She was alone in the tower, sitting breathless and panicked in the dark. What had woken her hadn't come from outside but from within.
Another nightmare, the same nightmare. Over and over again it was the same memories that plagued her nights. Some memories were unchanged while others were made infinitely worse. They'd play like a disjointed and terrifying performance, jumping inconsistently and unknowably between different traumas and fears.
Tonight, they all centred once again around him. Visions of ending the fight on Dathomir with him at the end of her blade, of just quite missing his hand on the radar dish or of her awakening from the Tie Defender crash to find he hadn't been as lucky. Then there were the ones where she relived that last day, with all the wrong differences playing out and, sometimes even worse, nothing changing at all.
Kicking the blankets off her sweat-soaked form, she pulled herself to the edge of the bed and planted her feet on the ground. She leaned forward with head in her hands and took in several deep breaths.
Why am I here? What am I doing?
They were questions she'd played over to herself almost daily and no matter how many times she answered them they would still nag at her mind. It was for Lothal, for the Rebellion and most of all for him. I know I can always count on you. They were among the last words he'd said to her that day and barely a few hours went by where they didn't repeat themselves.
In the first few months they were all she needed to know that things would be alright. She lived with optimism and hope, naively thinking she'd wake up any day now and find that annoying, awkward, smiling Loth-rat standing in her doorway. His doorway. She'd taken the liberty of fixing up his old home with all the supplies she could find and, when work was done, decided to move in herself. It was her way of keeping him with her at all times. She carried his lightsaber too but still hadn't had the nerve to ignite it again and a distinctly sapphire colouring tinged the eyes of the wren on her precious helmet. All of them meant something to her; they meant him.
And what good has that done you? As time wore on, her hope ebbed away and her mood slipped. Waiting gave way to longing, hope devolved into misery and as weeks rolled into months and then to years her resolve faltered. Once she thought of leaving it all behind, even going as far as packing her things and slinging them onto a ship. Yet here she was still, three years and still alone.
Sitting there was doing no good. Her fatigued body rose from the edge of the bed with a sigh and made her way to the kitchen area. Fetching a glass of water to ease her dry mouth didn't do anything to calm her mind. The light from the kitchen only illuminated everything around her.
It's just wrong. This tower wasn't hers. The pieces of old-tech that were the last remnants of the place's original purpose, the meticulously maintained collection of old helmets, the raggedy old desk and chairs and even the various pieces of furniture and equipment she'd brought in. None of it was hers. It was his, it would always be his and after all these years he still hadn't come back. Everywhere she looked was a place he should be.
She swallowed back the growing and all too familiar sensation in her throat and closed her eyes tightly to prepare for what inevitably came with it. Gritting her teeth in anger she threw the glass down a little too hard into the sink and rushed out of the kitchen. She headed straight for the door, swiping at the door control to release her from the room.
It opened to a clear night sky with the two moons casting a faintly blue light over the land beneath an expanse of stars. The newly rebuilt city was in plain view, its urban lights shining out from the darkness. Anyone who saw it would have called it beautiful but Sabine didn't want just anyone to see it, one person in the galaxy deserved to see it more than anyone else. A person that should be standing at her side right now.
Giving in to her emotions, she let out a sob as the tears finally started to fall down her cheeks. She'd fought so hard and for what? He was gone, Kanan was dead and she was sat alone, outside someone else's home crying her heart out. It wasn't fair, none of it was. Why wasn't he home? Why wasn't he with her? Why did they all get dragged into this stupid war?
She wanted to lash out, to hit or kick the nearest thing she could find or scream at someone until her throat was raw and straining. Her fists clenched as her body shook and curled up, sinking down against the outside walls of the tower and hugging her knees in close to bury her head against them.
And then she felt it. Subtle and gentle, like it had been a handful of times before. A feeling both familiar and new at the same time that caused her breath to catch in her throat.
Her head shot up and, for some reason, looked instinctively up to the stars. What had been a brief and fleeting twinge in the back of her mind grew in intensity like it never had before. Several times in the last few years she'd had that same sensation. Each time she noticed it getting stronger and more powerful but never quite understanding what it was. This time however was so much stronger than it had ever been before and it kept growing inside and around her.
As it grew she felt her mind shift and her heart skip. The tears subsided and the feelings of anger, guilt, regret, isolation and despair began to fade as if being plucked away and thrown into oblivion. It was as if someone was reaching into her mind and casting out her demons. In an instant she realised that was because someone was.
Her pain began to be replaced with warmth and comfort. A constant aura of care and concern enveloped her like a pair of loving arms. She felt the last echoes of her distress melt away and she was left only with certainty.
She didn't know much about the Force despite spending years with two Jedi. One thing she did know was about the connections that could be made. He'd been particularly talented with those and he'd developed a clear one with Kanan. It wasn't just those who had the Force that could do it; one who wasn't as attuned could, with immense care and understanding, share that same bond. There shouldn't have been any doubt about what she was experiencing.
They'd built something that no amount of time, distance or pain could ever break. It took time to understand it, that must have been what he'd been doing on those other occasions. Finally, when the time called for it most, he'd figured it out. If she closed her eyes it was as if he was here holding her tightly and telling her everything would be alright. She knew of no better way to explain it than with words she hoped they'd share with each other one day; we are one together, we are one apart.
How long had passed sitting on the tower balcony, she couldn't say. It could have been hours or it could have been minutes. All that mattered was that it was exactly what she'd needed. When her eyes once again became heavy she found herself almost guided back inside. When her head once again hit the pillows, she was content. No matter where he was she knew he was always with her and, one day, Ezra Bridger would come home to her.
Told you it was short. I've got a bigger project cooking right now that might start to come out in the next few weeks but we'll have to see. This is all I have for now.
Kind Regards - Lothcat1138