So I haven't posted anything in a while but a little while ago I thought about what would happen if during Fire across the Galaxy, the Inquisitor had actually killed Ezra. I decided to write it because for some reason I love to cause myself pain...
So thank you for reading and enjoy! Also, I do not own Star Wars Rebels or any of it's characters.
Kanan felt the star Destroyer shake and let out a breath. He had tears prickling in his eyes as his thoughts drifted back to Ezra.
He forced himself to turn around and look down at the platform his apprentice had fallen onto.
Ezra was pale, and still and Kanan reached out hesitantly with the Force even though he knew what he would find. Ezra didn't respond, and the hole in Kanan's chest throbbed at the coldness that now consumed him.
He could feel his sudden adrenaline fading quickly, and jumped down to the platform before he passed out from exhaustion. It was then he could hear Hera frantically calling Ezra from the communicator. She was pleading with the child they had taken in, the child who had trusted them, the child they had willingly brought into war. She had no idea that he would never be able to respond, that he would be silent forever...
When the Star Destroyer rumbled again he grabbed the com as gently as he could from Ezra's belt, from Ezra's lifeless body.
"Ezra?! Are you out there?" Hera demanded.
"Hera," Kanan began, but his throat closed up and he couldn't bring himself to say anymore.
Hera didn't seem to hear his despair, obviously just recognizing Kanan's voice was enough to send her into high spirits.
"Kanan! Thank the Force!" she exclaimed, and Kanan winced because she was so happy, so joyful, but she had no idea. "We have to leave now! Can you make it to the Ghost?"
"You don't have time! I'll find another way out," Kanan assured, but then realized he had said I, and not we. He looked down at his padawan; it almost looked like the child was only asleep. He was so young and innocent and vulnerable. Kanan almost believed that any minute now, Ezra's eyes would open, and he'd be able to see those crystal clear blue orbs one more time, and hear his childlike laughter one more time. But, Kanan knew the truth. Ezra wasn't sleeping, he wasn't going to wake up, and everything he never realized he needed was gone.
"No, Kanan. I'm not leaving you again!" Hera declared over the sound of blaster fire.
"You won't! I promise you, Hera. Just go!" Kanan demanded. He had already lost Ezra today, he would not lose Hera too.
Pushing aside his grief, and gathering up all his strength, he slung the boy over his shoulder.
Kanan almost collapsed. Not because of the weight, years on the streets fending for himself and fighting starvation made sure Ezra's weight was not a difficultly. It was just too wrong.
Ezra was too limp.
Ezra was too cold.
Ezra was too quiet.
He didn't make a sound when Kanan leaped back up onto the bridge.
The rest was a blur, he don't know how he was able to make it to the Inquisitor's Tie Fighter.
It felt like an eternity when he gently laid Ezra down in the small space.
He could feel his breaths beginning to quicken, he was seconds away from breaking, but it wasn't over yet.
He had to get Ezra away from this destruction. He had to get him to safety. Not that it mattered anymore. The least he could do was take Ezra to a peaceful final resting place.
He gripped the steering controls tightly at that thought, and he felt as though he was about to pass out, or throw up, or cry, or do all three at once until Hera's voice brought him back down to reality.
He barely registered the sudden Rebel Fleet that miraculously came to their rescue. He hadn't even realized he had docked and jumped to hyperspace.
Gently, lovingly, Kanan wrapped his arms around the boy. One hand cradling Ezra's head in such an intimate, personal, way every Jedi on the counsel would have been disgusted. He felt for a pulse, he listened for breath, he tried to feel the rise and fall of his chest. Nothing. Nothing.
He couldn't help the cry that escaped his throat. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to protect him. He was his Master. Ezra was his responsibility.
And because of his failure an innocent child, who had already endured so much pain, had been killed, had died.
"Kanan? Love, are you in there?" Hera called, knocking on the tie fighter's hatch.
He heard the creaking of metal as the hatch was slowly opened, and then heard a horrified gasp. He looked up at her. The grief evident in his eyes. All her joy of being reunited with him disappeared. Kanan and Hera just stared at each other for a long moment, and Kanan swore he could see self blame and guilt begin to swirl around her.
"Get him up," Hera demanded reaching for him. Kanan felt his arms obey, even though he was in a daze.
Zeb was there instantly at Hera's orders, pulling the boy out of the fighter and with a gentleness Kanan had never seen from the Lasat laying him on the ground. Sabine hovered hesitantly, hands in front of her mouth, watching wordlessly.
Kanan moved faster than he ever had to escape the prison of the metal ship and knelt at Ezra's side.
Hera was fussing over him, grasping at him, murmuring about how they could get a medic.
Kanan was deathly still; this was not a nightmare, as much so he wished it was. He could not wake up from this horror. He was frozen as Hera spazzed until finally he couldn't take it anymore.
"He's dead, Hera!" Kanan screamed, suddenly angry. Not at her, not at the Grand Inquisitor, not even at himself. He was angry at the Force for taking away such a hopeful, bright-eyed child, who only wanted to help and love.
Sabine and Zeb tensed and flinched back, suprised by the brutality of Kanan's behavior.
"No!" Hera shook her head furiously, as tears began to form in her eyes. "He can't be! He can't!"
She found it ironically cruel, that in order gain back one member of her family, she had to lose another.
Sabine was crying, Kanan noted, and Zeb was taking in slow, raging breaths.
Kanan let the sounds melt away. The heart-wrenching sobs from Hera, the cries from Sabine, the screams of fury from Zeb, the sound of a door behind them opening, Chopper anxiously warbling, and then a soft, strong, female voice, trying to get their attention.
Kanan blocked it all out and let his head fall against Ezra's chest. His hands were cradling the boy close, and he had no intention of ever letting go.
It was in that moment, as he was sobbing over the cold body of the boy he had loved so dearly, that he realized why his master had sacrificed herself for him.
The pain of losing a padawan, the pain of losing a son, was just too much for him to bear.