Zen and the Art of Soul Bearing
Zeb looked at the stack of sensor beacons with scrupulous green eyes before running a hand over his head and turning away, satisfied, but reluctant about it. He'd managed to scrape together more than two dozen of the beacons for this 'mission', and hopefully he wouldn't need any more than what he had. He really hoped he wouldn't need any more than these.
But at the very least, he thought there should be enough for him and the kid.
With his mind made, he exited the Phantom and began heading for the cabin he shared with Ezra. The boy had come in from the sweltering heat a few hours ago — after getting up earlier than Zeb would have ever believed possible — and it was as if gravity had increased in the Ghost. He wasn't the only one to notice either. He'd seen the blind 'look' Kanan had cast in Ezra's direction after the kid had vanished into their shared cabin the moment he'd come back, dark and moody, and Hera's gaze had been just as telling. They were concerned, and it permeated the Ghost like an unpleasant scent you just couldn't get away from.
The Lasat hated it. When one of them was in a mood, it spread through the rest of the crew like a virus, made worse because there was no getting away from it. Usually it was just mutual caution in reaction to Hera's anger at one of them for not having done what she'd asked, but this was different. There was a heavy darkness that seemed to hang on the kid, a real bad kind, and they could all sense it. Maybe it was Ashla, or the Force, or empathy, or body language, but whatever it was that made them all so sensitive to Ezra right now, it was distracting and nauseating in the cramped space of the Ghost. It wasn't doing anyone any good, especially Ezra, and Zeb suspected that the more the others reacted to the kid's bad mood, the worse his mood would get.
And that was where he decided he'd step in. The boy needed to get out of here. Not just out of the Ghost, but away from Chopper Base. He needed space and freedom, more than the small safe zone could provide with all of its rebels and droids everywhere. Zeb knew what that was like, how it felt as if he was trapped with nowhere to go because no matter where he turned, there was someone there under foot. He was getting itchy, and he knew that if he was, Ezra definitely was too.
The hiss of their cabin door heralded the Lasat's entrance, but he almost took a step back immediately. It felt as if a miasma sat concentrated and oppressive within the room. Ezra's back was turned to him from where he lay on his side from the top bunk, but it was more than evident that wherever this heavy feeling was coming from, it was him. Zeb didn't know if it was the Force reacting to Ezra that seemed to make the air in the room dense, or if it was his sharper instinctive and intuitive senses as a Lasat, but whatever it was, it was uncomfortable.
With a hard frown, he pushed through it and entered the room. He'd been Captain of the Lasan High Honor Guard. No way was a kid's bad mood going to stop him from going through with his plan. Zeb knew that he probably shouldn't do this — the kid could be a little dangerous when pushed — but his instincts had been bothering him all morning, and he knew from experience that they would continue to relentlessly hassle him if he didn't do something about Ezra.
And he also sensed that, if he didn't do something, the boy and the rest of the Ghost crew would all be in a bad way. Ever since Lira San, his instincts felt sharp and attuned, and he knew it was better to follow them than resist.
So he would, even if it was uncomfortable and had to deal with a moody teenager all afternoon for it.
"You awake, kid?"
"What do you think?" Ezra's voice whipped out almost spitefully, and Zeb narrowed his eyes at the tone, but refused to let it deter him.
"Come on. I've got something to show you."
The line of the kid's back turned hard, and the Lasat watched as he curled deeper into his bunk. "I'll look at it later. Just leave me alone, Zeb. I'm trying to meditate."
Zeb sighed unsurprised as he rolled his eyes. He knew a lie when he heard one, and he didn't even need his instincts for that. Seemed the diplomatic way wasn't going to work, not that he'd thought that it would, all things considered. But he'd given it a shot. Now, it looked like it was time for Plan B, and Zeb couldn't stop from smirking. It had been the plan he'd preferred anyway.
Right, then.
With a firm pull, the Lasat curled his purple arm around Ezra and pulled until the boy was off of his bunk. Zeb wasn't going to put up with this nonsense. This would do the kid good.
"You too?" exclaimed Ezra in outrage as Zeb swung the kid under his arm, ignoring the way Ezra pounded on his back and arms as if he expected that to make the Lasat release him. Zeb snorted. Please. He barely felt the kid's efforts. "Let me go, Zeb!"
"I don't think so," he said in reply as he exited their cabin and began walking through the Ghost. "We're going on a little trip."
No one was there to hear Ezra's angry shouts. The Rust Bucket was out somewhere with his new friend, AP-5, doing Ashla knew what. Sabine had gone with Hera and Kanan to the main fleet ship for lunch, which both Ezra and Zeb had opted out of. They were alone, and there wasn't a soul around to help Ezra get out of this.
"I don't want to go on a 'little trip'," Ezra snarled angrily. "Just leave me alone, Zeb! I have meditation I have to do."
"Sulking's more like it," he commented frankly, undaunted by the kid's rage. "If you really want to 'meditate', you can do it where we're going."
"Go by yourself!"
"Nah," Zeb said with a shrug. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to stay cooped up here in the Ghost all day. This place is too small, and I feel like no matter where I go we're all on top of each other. I get the feeling that you're feeling about as claustrophobic as I am, right now, and I think some fresh air and open space will do us both good." Ezra stopped struggling under his arm, but Zeb's hold was still firm in spite of it. He fully expected the kid to try and worm his way out of his grip if Zeb became distracted.
Zeb snorted to himself. As if that could happen.
"Where are you going?" Ezra asked tentatively with suspicious blue eyes, and Zeb smiled down at him widely.
"Got a mission. Scans show that there's another water source somewhere towards the southern end of the planet, and they want us to investigate to see if it might serve as an outpost. I'll let you in on a secret, I went to check it out yesterday and it's something else, kid. I think the mission'll take a couple of hours. Be a nice break away from here anyway."
"I thought that we were being put off of mission rotation for the day," Ezra said slowly, though there was no denying the interest in his voice. In all the time he'd known Ezra, the kid had never been uncomfortable with a bit of rebellion against the rules, regardless if it was against the Imperials, the Rebellion, or Hera and Kanan. Particularly when he felt cornered and trapped.
"We are," Zeb agreed as he walked into the Phantom and dropped Ezra beside the sensor beacons. "But the hell I'm going to stay here with everyone tiptoeing around each other." He turned his eyes to Ezra expectantly. "You coming, or not?"
Ezra's brow furrowed for a moment as he looked at the beacons, then back at the door to the Ghost. Then the kid got up and dusted off his knees before saying, "What are we waiting for? Let's go."
"That's what I like to hear, kid," Zeb said with an approving smile, but it fell a little when Ezra didn't return it. All the Lothal teenager did was pull down one of the passenger seats and sit, eyes resolutely looking down at the floor as he waited for Zeb to take off.
Zeb squeezed into the pilot's seat and pressed a button to let Hera know that he'd taken the Phantom, while also leaving a small recording of where he and Ezra were going for when Hera got back. He had thought about telling Hera and Kanan about his plan before they left, but had decided against it. There was no reason to get them in on it. They probably wouldn't mind. He was pretty sure. Maybe.
Either way, they'd be able to reach them on the comm if they really needed him or Ezra. It would be fine.
Flying had never been something Zeb relished. He could do it, and he wasn't terrible at it, but it was a well-known fact amongst the crew that if flying was required, everyone else would be tapped in line before him, including Chopper but excepting Ezra. He was a fighter, not a pilot, and he was happy to let the others take the responsibility. But this was a short flight, and an easy one, and he was certain that there would be no problems. Besides the Ashla-awful krykna, there wasn't anything that posed a real threat, especially while in the air.
Didn't mean that he didn't grimace as, when the Phantom detached itself, it screeched a little as it scraped along the hull of the Ghost. Hera would have his head, if she ever found out.
"Hera's going to kill you," Ezra commented, and Zeb just lifted a large purple hand to wave him off.
"Only if she finds out. You going to tell her?"
"It would ensure that she murders only you and not me," he replied back pointedly, and Zeb looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes, a quiet promise that if the kid did such a thing, he'd regret it.
The rest of the flight went smoothly, after he plugged in the coordinates and alerted the fleet of his departure, and the sweltering air of Atollon seemed to part before the Phantom. He set it to a gentle cruise. The Lasat wasn't in any real hurry to get to where they were going. At this rate, they'd be there within the hour, but for now he didn't see the rush. It was a relief just to get off the base for a bit, and every moment he could milk was a moment longer they didn't have to be confined.
Though, given the kid's attitude, it was starting to feel like they'd never left the Ghost at all. Worse even, given the Phantom's diminutive size.
Zeb kept waiting for Ezra to say something, to break the silence, but he was a little relieved when the kid resolutely kept his head down as if in concentration. Maybe he was meditating? There was a frown on his face though, and he knew that that couldn't mean anything good. But if there was anything that Zeb had learned in his life, it was never to start hard conversations in the middle of travel, especially if he was in control of the spacecraft or speeder. Those situations never ended well for him. Whatever it was that was eating the kid, it could wait until they got to where they were going. And hell, it might even wait longer than that, if the kid decided that he didn't want to say anything. Which was fine. Zeb didn't know what he'd say if Ezra did decide he wanted to talk anyway.
It still made him uneasy, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. The kid was in some dark mood, and all he could do was hope that this little getaway would help.
The site came into view and Zeb smiled as he saw the large canyon before them, huge and ominous in the desert landscape. He quickly spotted the entrance into the canyon that he'd found yesterday, and he called over his shoulder, "We're here, kid. You're going to want to see this."
He didn't know if Ezra had heard him, or if he cared, but after a moment Ezra's head appeared beside him as he scrutinized the area.
"Where are we?" Ezra asked curiously, and as Zeb began carefully guiding the Phantom closer to a fissure big enough for the craft to slip through, he gestured to the navigation panel.
"Huge canyon. Doesn't have a name, as far as I know, but that's where we're going."
"Thanks. That was helpful," Ezra replied sarcastically and Zeb smiled in response, shrugging. "Hard to believe that there's water in there."
"No kidding. But there's water there. I've seen it."
Ezra remained next to Zeb the rest of the way, watching curiously as Zeb entered the fissure, turned on the lights, and slowly maneuvered the Phantom within the canyon. There was more than enough room for it, but once again, Zeb wasn't the most dexterous of fliers and he was going to take it nice and easy, rather than risk more of Hera's wrath. Once he saw the spot he was aiming for, he carefully let the small ship down. They both grimaced at the landing as the Phantom came down a little harder than intended, and with a jolt that Zeb was intent on ignoring.
"Smooth."
"Shut it," Zeb said with a scowl as he pushed himself out of the pilot's seat. "Be ready when we get out. I didn't get the chance to check for threats yesterday. It's another reason we're here; not only to check the water, but to secure the location if the water is drinkable."
"So I'm backup, huh? What's wrong, Zeb? Couldn't do it on your own?" There was a soft chuckle that accompanied the statement, and Zeb ran with Ezra's teasing despite the fact it was aimed at him.
"And end up like Rex? I'm not stupid. I'd rather have you watching my back if we come up against any more of those spiders."
What little humor Ezra had seemed to deflate out of him, and instead the kid looked down and turned away, already heading for the exit hatch. The Lasat's eyes narrowed in concern as he reviewed what he'd said that had tipped the kid over. If he had to guess, given everything that happened on Malachor, he suspected he knew what it was he'd said that had bothered Ezra.
He looked at the Padawan carefully as he followed after. Doubt. So much doubt was in Ezra's body language, and it was clear to Zeb that Ezra was worried that he would let him down.
Zeb didn't have to imagine too hard to guess why that might be.
The Lasat frowned, his instincts pulling at him again, but he pushed them from his mind for now. They had a job they needed to do first. Maybe after he would bring it up. Maybe. If the opportunity arose. But right now the kid needed something distracting to do, and that was something Zeb could easily provide. But he'd keep a sharp eye on him, just in case.
They both cautiously exited the Phantom, and it became readily apparent that water was nearby. It was slightly humid in the darkened and semi-enclosed space, cooler but not by much, and the silence of the desert was broken by the distinctive sound of trickling water.
"Come on. This way," Zeb said as he began walking towards and around the corner that would lead to the pool, though he was ready to pull his bo-rifle from his back should he need it. Ezra followed after not far behind, careful, but clearly curious.
Once Ezra cleared the corner, Zeb was pleased to hear a small, surprised gasp from behind him, and they both looked at the large pool of water before them with small waterfalls trickling over the huge stones. Light from above streamed in dusty streaks to provide just the right amount of light to the cavernous area, and as it struck the water it almost seemed to make the canyon around sparkle. It was more or less a dead end, with the exception of the water flowing from the rocks, and the pool sat in the back, surrounded by the tall stone walls. Tactically, it was an easily defensible position. Aesthetically, it was likely the most beautiful thing on the planet.
Zeb wasn't one to wax poetic, but he had to admit that this place had a certain type of beauty and charm he could appreciate.
Slowly Ezra moved forward, passing him to make his way to the pool. A dokma scuttled out of the kid's way as he neared, and Ezra dropped to a knee to look into the incredibly clear water.
"It looks so clear."
"Don't drink it yet," grunted the Lasat as he moved next to the teenager before tossing him a device the fleet had ensured would be able to analyze the components of the water to determine if it was potable. "Check it. I'll keep watch for any nasties that might be around."
As Ezra did as he was asked, Zeb kept a close eye on the surrounding area, looking deep into the darkness, his sharp ears pricked for the eerie and uncomfortable chittering of the krykna. But there was nothing, and after a moment Ezra's voice broke through the pool's tranquility.
"Water's clean," he said, and Zeb turned to watch as the kid dipped his hands into the pool to retrieve a handful of the water before bringing it to his lips to drink.
"How's it?"
"Good," he admitted as he wiped his hands on his pants to dry them. "Tastes a little like the rocks and the sand, but still cool and refreshing. I think the fleet'll be happy with the find." Ezra slowly stood up and took another look around, tentative and appraising, and after a moment he said softly, "This … this is nice."
"I know. A real paradise here in the middle of nowhere," Zeb agreed as he watched the small waterfalls flow gently over the rocks and down into the glittering pool below. When he'd first seen it yesterday, he hadn't believed his eyes that something like this could exist on this desolate planet. He hadn't wanted to leave, but he'd been alone and he hadn't had any sensor beacons to ward off the krykna. After the fiasco that had erupted while rescuing Rex, he didn't really want to be caught out in the middle of this desert without one. "Come on. Let's check this place over for krykna and whatever else might be lurking before we set the beacons. I don't really want them trapped inside the barrier with us."
"You don't have to tell me twice," Ezra said with a stoic nod, drawing a blaster from his hip, one that Zeb was sure was Sabine's. But he kept his mouth shut about it and his opinions to himself. They had a job to do and a blaster was welcome. The sooner they cleared the area, the sooner they could set up the beacons and the sooner they could relax in peace. He was looking forward to that. Ashla, he was looking forward to that.
Zeb was practically ecstatic when all they found as they made their way carefully about the pool were several dokma, which lingered around the edges of the pool, and a single convor, which took off into the desert sky as he neared. Within an hour they'd set up the sensor beacons in a small protective fence that mirrored the one around the fleet. After that it was just a matter of setting up a small tent and calibrating a portable comm system, and the pool was starting to look like the beginnings of a tiny outpost.
"What now?" Ezra asked once they were done with the setup. He watched Zeb gather up the small box he'd kept separate, and the Lasat began walking back to the large rocks beside the pool. Once Zeb had found a nice, comfortable spot, he let himself drop down and recline on a flattish boulder, crossing his legs as he reached into the box for the lunch he'd set aside earlier for the both of them.
"Take a load off. I'm not planning on going back yet, and I'm not ready to share this place with anyone else. Let's just enjoy the break from everyone while we can." He lifted the box towards Ezra in offering. "Here, I brought lunch."
Zeb half expected Ezra to suggest that they check in with the fleet just in case, or with Hera to let them know that they'd finished their mission and that they were fine. But instead Ezra just climbed up next to him to take the box, settling himself a small distance beside the Lasat, and quietly began to eat. Lazily Zeb reached down to scoop up a handful of water from the pool, and was pleased to find the kid was right about it being cool. As he drank that handful, he also realized that the kid had also been right about the taste. It tasted strongly of mineral, but it wasn't off-putting. Not exactly what he wanted in the taste of water, but not bad.
The sound of the water over the rocks in the silence was relaxing, and once Zeb had finished his lunch, he rested his arms behind his head and reclined as far back as he could, closing his eyes to enjoy the moment. This had been a good idea. Away from the Ghost and the others, even if he was with this moody Lothal teenager, it was still like a breath of fresh air to him, and that was enough to ignore the world for a while. This was nice. A well-deserved vacation, for both of them.
That was, until Ezra said softly, "So are you going to say it?"
Confusion flitted through Zeb as he peeked an eye over at the kid who, at some point, had drawn his knees up and circled his arms around them, looking intently into the empty space of the cavern before them.
"Say what?"
"To say something about yesterday, or about my behavior. I know that you've been wanting too. I could feel it in the Force all the way here."
Oh. That. Sometimes he forgot that Kanan and Ezra could sense emotions like that through the Force.
"Listen, kid," Zeb said with a sigh as he looked at Ezra, letting his fatigue and gruff concern show through a bit since they were alone out here, and away from the others. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
"Good, because I don't want to talk about it," Ezra said firmly with an angry frown as his arms tightened around his knees, his body language stressed. "So just don't."
"Okay," the Lasat replied cautiously. "I won't."
The silence was tense after the outburst, and Zeb didn't know what he should do or say, if he should do or say anything. Zeb tried to keep his emotions in line and ignore them, but there was no denying the deep concern he felt towards Ezra. The kid's body language alone made him think of a nexu he'd seen once, agitated and ready to kill, and Zeb didn't think there was any calming Ezra. Should he, though? What should he do if he should? Should he do what Hera would do? What would Hera do —
"Will you stop?" exclaimed Ezra in abrupt anger as he rounded his blue eyes fiercely on the Lasat. "Just stop! I can't take it anymore!"
"Stop what?" questioned Zeb defensively. He hadn't been doing anything. He'd been trying to not do anything!
"Stop feeling so concerned!" Ezra yelled, his voice echoing loudly off the walls. "I can feel it everywhere, even when I'm not focusing on the Force. It's driving me insane!"
The kid was still feeling his emotions? Now that was just embarrassing, and he couldn't help but glare at the kid with his green eyes narrowed.
"Well, how am I supposed to stop that?" Zeb asked incredulously as he pushed himself to sit up. "You're the one that's eavesdropping on my emotions, and I can't help that I am concerned about you!"
"Well stop! You don't need to be concerned about me," the kid bit back angrily. "I'm fine! I came back with hardly a scratch on me. If you need to be concerned about someone, be concerned about Kanan."
"You should know through the Force, then, that I am concerned about Kanan!" Zeb shot back, his gravelly voice almost a harsh growl. "But right now I'm more concerned about you! Hera's got Kanan covered, but you're like a raw nerve that's about to explode. I get it, you need your space after everything that happened, I really do, but this isn't normal for you."
"Nothing's different, Zeb. I'm fine!"
"Then why are you shouting?"
"Why are you shouting?"
"Because you are!" Zeb could feel his heartbeat rise, but conflict was nothing new or difficult for him, and a part of him relished the fact that the boy was shouting instead of crying. He knew how to handle shouting, but crying was something else. Anger, he knew. This, he felt he could handle.
Ezra all but screeched in frustration. "This is ridiculous! Everything about you is screaming at me and making everything worse!" With a shove of his hands, the kid began to push himself up. "Stay here. I'm taking a walk." Before the kid could get further than that, Zeb's hand shot out and yanked Ezra back down.
The Lasat narrowed his eyes dangerously at the boy. "So sorry if I offend you, but I'm not letting you go off on your own," he growled, and the warm air in the cavern seemed to turn cool in response. "I can guess what's eating at you kid, but you have to know that no one blames you for what happened on Malachor —"
"Do you even get it, Zeb? Everything that happened on Malachor was my fault!" Ezra's shout of rage cracked out into the air of the pool, echoed, and vanished as if it had never been there at all, silencing the Lasat. "It was me that Master Yoda told to go to Malachor. It was me that went into that Sith temple with Maul. It was me that listened to him as if I knew what I was doing. It was me that listened to Maul again and left Kanan behind!" Zeb saw the raw pain sitting just behind the boy's blue eyes as Ezra finally shouted, "If I hadn't left, if I hadn't trusted Maul, then maybe I would have been there to stop him from hurting Kanan!"
"You can't blame yourself for that," Zeb said with a frown. "Even though you listened to Maul, Kanan wasn't alone. Ahsoka was there too, and if neither Kanan or Ahsoka could have stopped what happened, what difference would it have made if you'd been there too? The way I see it, even if you had been there, and Kanan had still lost his eyes, you'd still be blaming yourself for what happened. No one's blaming you, Ezra."
"But I should have been there, Zeb!" Ezra continued on, as if he hadn't heard Zeb at all. "I should have known better. Kanan's my Master and I'm his Padawan! We're supposed to have each other's backs, and I wasn't there!" Tears lined Ezra's eyes as anguish flared bright and readable across his face, and Zeb's heart sank for the boy. "Zeb, he's always there for me! Why is it that every time he needs me to be there for him, I'm not?"
It was as if something within Ezra had broken down and the boy sat curled into an even tighter ball as he pressed his head over and over into his knees, like he was trying to smash his insecurities and his guilt out of his mind. Sobs filled the air, and Zeb sighed, more unsure than ever about what he should do now. Really, this was Hera's thing. Lasat's like him just weren't good at the whole … comfort thing. And he was a warrior on top of that. He wasn't supposed to do these feeling things.
But it was more than clear that if he didn't do these feeling things, and find a way to connect with Ezra now while he was suffering, the kid might just get it in his head that everything he was thinking was true. He might start believing the lies he was telling himself, and Zeb … he couldn't let that happen.
He knew what that was like, after all. His guilt over Lasan was still a deep bruise on his soul, and he couldn't let Ezra do that to himself. He couldn't.
Sighing again, he followed his instincts and shifted closer to the boy, and unsure of what he was going to do next, he surprised himself by gently reaching out to place his huge hand over Ezra's dark head, resting it there carefully as if he might break the teenager into a thousand shards of glass. Ezra gave a full-body flinch at the touch, but Zeb took it as a good sign that the kid hadn't knocked his hand away, or vented his anger at him again. He just continued to sob and fall apart, and awkwardly Zeb stroked Ezra's back as his own mother once had, long ago when Zeb was still a soft-hearted child. Zeb remembered how soothing that had been for him, at the time, and he hoped that the kid might find it as soothing as well.
"Why, Zeb?" Ezra asked in a wrecked voice as he spoke into the safe circle of his arms, hiding his face and his tears. "Why do I keep failing? Why do I keep letting everyone down?" His voice shook hard, and Zeb heard the kid struggle to swallow back a lose sob. "I try so hard, and what good is it doing? It's like I'm never good enough!"
The pain in Ezra's voice shook Zeb with its raw intensity, and he remembered similar guilt filling his own head after the fall of Lasan, when he'd woken up covered in rubble to see everything he'd know destroyed in the wake of the Empire. Zeb may not know for sure if Ezra was responsible for everything that happened on Malachor, but the kid clearly thought he was, and Zeb knew from personal experience how hard it was to combat such a strong belief. The most he could do right now was empathize, and provide support and advice.
But what could he possibly say? What would break through strong enough for Ezra to listen? Ezra was just like he had been after the fall of Lasan, but if that was the case, then maybe there was a way to reach him. What would Zeb have told his younger self that terrible day, now that he had the wisdom of time to reflect upon everything that had happened? Now that he'd lived with the guilt and the pain?
Maybe … maybe that was the way? He hoped it was, because it was all he had and he took another quiet moment to collect his thoughts before he began.
"I wish I could give you a more satisfying answer besides, 'you're still young' and 'you're still learning' and 'there's only so much one person can do'," Zeb finally sighed slowly as his heart ached at the memories of Lasan, and for Ezra. "More than anyone, I wish I could give you a satisfying answer … but the truth is, I don't know if I can."
A hard, dry sob pounded through the teenager, and Zeb frowned as he stroked a hand soothingly down Ezra's back again.
"Lasan … I still carry the guilt of what happened to Lasan and to my people. I think about it every day, even now that we found Lira San. A lot of Lasat's died on my watch. They were my people, and like I told you, it was my duty to protect them, and I failed." He paused for a long moment, his throat tightening a little as he opened himself up, but he swallowed past it. "In my head, I know that I was one Lasat against the Empire, trying to protect an entire civilization, and in my head, I know that that's a lot to expect of anyone. But the heart believes what it wants. It clings to the guilt, and it clings to the pain like a bloody reminder of every failure you've ever committed in your life."
"How do you deal with it?" asked Ezra in a wrecked voice. "How do you handle all of that guilt?"
"Truth is, I don't think I ever did. Not well, anyway," Zeb admitted quietly as he looked down into the depths of the clear pool of water, still and calm in a way he knew neither of them were. "For a long time I just pushed it to the back of my mind, and every time I started to feel it again, I'd go and get myself into a fight with the Imperials. It felt like it helped, at the time, but … well, the guilt was always still there." His voice tapered off for a moment, and idly he flicked a small pebble into the pool below, watching the water ripple.
"It still hurts," Zeb admitted once he'd found his voice again, "and I'm still angry, but … I think I'm beginning to understand it a little more, now that time has passed and I've become a part of the crew, helping the Rebellion. I've had to come to terms with my own limitations. I'm not a God, and I don't have the powers of a God, even if I wish I did. I did everything I could on Lasan, and it just … wasn't enough." He paused before quietly adding, "Perhaps that was just how it was supposed to be. The will of the Force. Ashla."
"But I have the Force, Zeb," Ezra said softly in response. "The Force is supposed to guide me and make me strong. It's supposed to help me. I should have been able to sense that something was wrong. I should have foreseen that something bad would happen to Kanan. The Force should have warned me. I should have known."
"In the same way I should have known that Lasan was about to be attacked and destroyed before it happened?" Zeb asked quietly. "That's not fair, kid, and you know it. We have all been watching you and Kanan as he's trained you in the ways of the Force, and we all know that it isn't some mechanical thing, like Chopper. It does what it wants and surprises you both. And you're still new to it. How could you expect to control all the energy of the galaxy? How could you make it be predictable? Kanan can't even do it," Zeb said slowly. "He's used it longer than you have, kid. If he and Ahsoka couldn't have sensed what was coming with the skill they have, I'm not sure it could have been sensed or stopped."
Ezra didn't say anything in response, just clung to his legs resolutely, and Zeb sighed. Karabast, he was botching this. He just knew it. The boy still hadn't made any indication that he understood what Zeb was trying to say and Zeb ran a hand over his bald head in frustration. He really wasn't good at this. He was probably making this so much worse. It felt like he was digging himself into a hole, deeper and deeper, and with a sigh, he decided that he just needed to say what he meant. Bottom line up front. No holds barred.
The Lasat looked up at the weak beams of light as they slipped through the rocks above, weak and gentle. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that maybe we expect too much of ourselves." Ezra chuckled darkly and Zeb frowned at him. "I know. Once again, unsatisfying. But you and I are alike in that way, kid. We get it in our heads that we alone have the responsibility to fix and protect everything, and we believe that we're greater than the problems we face. That we'll make it." The air embraced his words as they rolled low and honest from his lips, and Zeb sighed heavily before looking back at Ezra.
"But the truth is, Ezra, that sometimes we fail. It happens, and it hurts. No one prepares us for that. No one wants to admit that they're about to enter a galaxy where it's impossible to make it through without failing, and sometimes failing badly. But we do anyway because we think we can beat the odds. But we're not perfect and luck isn't always on our side, and Lasan, Human, Twi'lek, or Jedi, we can't succeed at everything, no matter how hard we try. But we can learn from those failures. We can use them and become stronger for them. Endeavor to make sure that we do better next time." Zeb paused for a moment before he picked up again more softly. "That's what I do, anyway. That's how I handle the guilt now. I do what I can, to the best of my ability, and acknowledge that sometimes things happen that are outside of my control. It's hard to accept and even harder to believe, but I think it's important or we destroy ourselves from the inside out, and I know what that's like. And I don't want that to happen to you too, kid."
Ezra still hadn't said anything, but there was something in his body language that was unwinding a bit in the wake of Zeb's words. It wasn't perfect, and he knew the kid was still hurting bad and was likely still holding onto his guilt, but Zeb thought it was a success that the kid had admitted his fears and his faults at all. A younger Zeb never would have. Ezra may have a hard time coming to terms with what happened on Malachor, but at least he hadn't held it in, like Zeb had for years.
One thing was for sure though. The dark feeling that had felt so heavy hanging on Ezra didn't seem quite so dark or heavy right now.
"Thanks for telling me about Lasan, Zeb," Ezra finally said, looking up with tired eyes for the first time. The kid looked bad, and his eyes were red-rimmed from the crying, but they didn't hold the same agitated, tense anger as they had. "I know that was hard. Kanan would be proud. You sounded like a Jedi."
Zeb shrugged it off, embarrassed. "Yeah, well, I just wanted you to know that I know what it feels like, and that I'm not just making things up. I care about you kid, and I don't want you to live with the guilt like I have. It eats you up, slowly, and it's … it's something I wished I'd never let grow."
Ezra nodded and the quiet settled back into the cavern again, though this time it wasn't as tense or uncomfortable. There was a distinct feel of ache and pain in the air, it was true, but it was a strange sort of shared ache, and in that way it was companionable, oddly enough.
"You still planning on going on that walk?" Zeb asked after a moment, glancing over with tired green eyes, and he was satisfied when Ezra slowly shook his head.
"No," he said quietly. Then he surprised Zeb by asking, "Can we stay here for a while?" His voice nor his body language seemed as pent up or tense, and Zeb sensed that the thoughts the kid had been brewing all day had settled, for the time being. "I … don't want to go back anytime soon. Not yet anyway."
Zeb looked at Ezra for a moment before he let himself recline back again, shutting his eyes.
"I don't see why not. I don't think they'll be expecting us for a couple hours yet," Zeb breathed into the peaceful air, peeking an eye open to look at Ezra. "Besides, that'll give me more than enough time for a nap. And given how much you were tossing about last night, you could probably use one too."
Ezra didn't say anything at the comment, but after a moment he did lay down too, though he didn't close his eyes. The kid just stared up at the dancing lights on the ceiling of the cavern as the desert light from outside reflected the water. Zeb knew better than to think that the kid would actually listen to him and get some sleep while he could. Ezra was still deep in this thoughts and his doubts, and it was obvious enough that even a breakdown like he'd just had wasn't going to cure everything. It never had, in Zeb's experience. But he knew it did help, some, and some was better than none. It was something that the kid could work with, and that was a good thing. A start at least.
"Thanks, Zeb." Ezra's voice was soft in the air, hardly disturbing the peace of the area, quiet and contemplative.
Zeb reached over and ruffled Ezra's dark hair gently, allowing some of his gruff affection for the kid to show through for a very brief moment. "Anytime, kid. And I mean that. Anytime."
A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this piece! When I started writing this piece, I thought it would be super fun to write from the perspective of the emotionally awkward Zeb, and it was, but DAMN IT ALL IF HE AND EZRA DIDN'T FIGHT ME THE ENTIRE WAY. It was a tricky piece, but I hope that I did Zeb and his relationship with Ezra justice. Please let me know what you thought!
In the next piece it's Chopper's turn. Hope you'll stick around. Thanks for reading!