Chapter 1: Attachments
Kanan suddenly understood. All at once, with a tidal wave of understanding, Kanan knew why the Jedi weren't allowed to have attachments. This. This right here. This was why.
He felt her die. He wasn't even there and he felt her life-force extinguish, and subsequently felt his entire world explode around him. He felt his life lose it's purpose. He felt his heart break in two, and felt the terrifying numbness that came with half of him being torn away. For the first time, he felt truly blind, stumbling in darkness and pain, unable to see a way out.
Kanan felt his heart ache as he dropped yet another bottle onto the floor and listened as it rolled on the durasteel, clinking into other bottles on the way. He refused to leave his room, no matter how the kids might beg him. He refused to be sober either, and remembered why he was such a drunk in his younger years.
Jedi felt pain intensified. When something tragic happened to a Jedi, they were trained to deal with it in a healthy manner, channeling the energy and protecting themselves from further harm. But when that didn't work, the pain become downright unbearable. Because Kanan didn't only feel his own pain, he felt Ezra's pain. And Sabine's pain. And Zeb's pain. He felt everyone else's feelings, as well as his own, in tenfold. And it was too much. It was too much to handle when he watched his Jedi Master die. It was too much to handle living his entire young adult life on the run. It was too much to handle now. Now that Hera was gone.
The Ghost no longer felt like home. Kanan hated every moment that he spent alive in a world where Hera was not. He was angry, depressed, and pitiful, and he knew how much Hera would hate him for reacting this way. But he loved her. She genuinely was his other half; his entire world.
The Rebellion begged him, pleaded, insisted, that he be the one to carry on her legacy, to continue fighting, to continue rallying others to their cause. The last briefing Kanan attended they'd mentioned something about a super-weapon, but he'd left before the meeting was even finished, his headache throbbing and stomach aching. It was that night that Sabine approached him on behalf of the rest of the family. She'd suggested they go back to doing what they'd done when they first started out. Smuggling, trading, doing odd-jobs and sticking it to the Empire when they could. Helping people.
"It's what Hera would've wanted," Sabine had said, in hopes of convincing Kanan to go along with it.
No it's not, Kanan wanted to tell her. Hera would hate that we're giving up. She'd have my head for letting it get to this point. She'd have yours too, Bean. This is not what Hera would've wanted.
"Fine." he'd told Sabine, "The Ghost is yours now. You can do whatever you want with her."
"You're coming with us." Sabine insisted, "I'm not leaving you behind, Kanan."
"Bean…"
"Kanan, no. I don't care if you're a sad drunk, you can be a sad drunk in our home, with your family. I'm not leaving you."
Kanan's sightless eyes watered, and he nodded, and Sabine uncrossed her arms, putting her hands on his shoulders.
"Good. We leave at dawn."
So they did. They left the Rebellion, they left Hera's legacy, and resumed their daytime vigilante work. Sabine set out to even out some scores with old bounties on their heads, and they helped smaller rebel cells find their way to the Rebellion itself. They were like roving agents, travelling the galaxy to serve justice.
Along the way, they found how to make it work again. Kanan didn't. But the kids did. Zeb did. Sabine did. Even Ezra did. Ezra made it his mission to help Kanan as much as possible, he tried to be the best student and best family member he could. But it was hard. Hera was the glue that held the family together, and without her, they struggled. Ezra had felt it immediately when Hera died. Not because of his Force bond with her, despite how strong it was, but because of his bond with Kanan. He felt Kanan's anguish, and he couldn't even begin to describe the amount of pain Kanan was in. Ezra sincerely had to check that he wasn't physically injured when he felt the pain that Kanan felt, because it was so intense.
"Please Kanan," Ezra begged, for the billionth time since Hera's death, "Please. Practice with me. I'm getting rusty, and I know you are too."
Kanan didn't even answer him, and even with the mask of numbness provided by alcohol, Kanan could feel Ezra's desperation and frustration.
"Fine." Ezra said, throwing his lightsaber hilt onto Kanan's floor. "You quit, I quit."
Kanan shook his head sadly, picking Ezra's lightsaber up and running his calloused hands over it. He sighed, lifting his own lightsaber from the drawer under his bunk. He hadn't touched it since Hera's death, and he still didn't want to. Ezra had insisted that he train with him, but Kanan would be lying if he said that he was in a place where he could be a successful teacher. It wasn't easy to carry on in life when there was no reason to keep going.
"Ezra, wait." Kanan called back, and Ezra hesitated before hurrying back to Kanan's room. He squinted through the dark, rolling his eyes before flicking on the lights, remembering that Kanan wouldn't notice anyway.
"What?" Ezra asked, disappointment still clear in his tone.
Kanan handed Ezra his lightsaber back, holding his own weapon in his free hand. He hesitated before stretching his weapon out to Ezra too.
"Don't quit, Ezra." he said softly. "I might be done, but the galaxy still needs you."
Ezra was speechless for a moment, before pushing Kanan's hand away.
"Kanan, no." he said softly, his voice cracking a little. "Don't…"
"Ezra, I can't be a Jedi anymore," he insisted. "That isn't my path. But that doesn't mean it can't be yours."
Ezra blinked, feeling tears fill his eyes.
"I don't want to do it alone," He said, his voice choked.
"The Force flows through all things," Kanan recited, and Ezra grunted.
"I don't want to do it without you." he amended, shoving Kanan's shoulder a little harder than he meant to. "You're abandoning me."
"I'm not abandoning you, Ezra." Kanan insisted. "I won't be any help to you. Your path lies differently from mine."
"It doesn't have to, Kanan. We can figure it out." Ezra pleaded, and Kanan frowned.
"I'm sorry, Ezra."
Ezra felt himself getting angry, emotion building in his chest.
"Hera would hate you like this," he spat, "If you aren't going to do anything for me, or for Sabine, do something for her. She'd kill you for acting like this and you know it." With that, Ezra spun and stormed out of Kanan's room.
Kanan knew he was right. Of course he was. He knew that if it were him who died, Hera would continue living and fighting, probably burying her feelings and refusing to show any weakness, regardless of how she actually felt. She'd never give up, she'd never become a drunk, and she'd never let the rest of her family think that she didn't care about them, or their cause. Hera would definitely be angry with Kanan for acting this way. For letting Ezra down. For expecting Sabine to just take command and leaving her to do it all by herself. For letting himself go. For letting his emotions rule him. She'd hate him.
Kanan leaned his head back, letting it hit the wall behind him hard.
"I'm so sorry, Hera," he whispered. "I'm sorry."
"You need to pull it together, Luv." Kanan heard Hera's calm but serious tone in his head. "Those kids need you."
Kanan felt his head throb at even the thought of standing up, but he didn't really care. He knew Ezra was right, and he knew that being so lethargic and sad was only going to make it harder for the kids to move on. He hated letting Ezra down like this. He hated how sad Sabine was. Ezra had mentioned that she hadn't painted in months. She commanded all the missions, between arguing about it with Ezra. She'd stepped up in ways that Kanan couldn't even express his pride for, but he knew that the only reason she did, was because he wouldn't. And that was how Sabine honored Hera's legacy. By carrying on. By leading. By taking care of Kanan.
The following afternoon, Zeb was the one who tried to get through to Kanan, and for some reason, he was the one who could. Zeb didn't say much at first, just sat next to Kanan on his bunk, looking him over sadly.
"For someone who sleeps so much, you look terrible." Zeb told him, and Kanan almost laughed. Almost.
"You think I'm sleeping?" Kanan muttered, his tone much flatter than he intended it to be.
"Well, what else would you be doing, holed up in your room and ignoring your family?" Zeb countered, and Kanan grunted in response.
"Honestly, Kanan. If you think any of us are doing well, you're a bigger fool than I thought." Zeb told him after a second of pause. "We're all hurting. But they need you. I need you."
Kanan frowned, turning to face Zeb. "I'm sorry," Kanan said quietly.
"It's been nearly a month," Zeb said carefully. "And this isn't me saying to get over it, because none of us ever will. This is me saying you need to start trying again."
"Zeb…" Kanan shook his head. "I can't…"
"They're just kids, Kanan." Zeb snapped, "They're kids who have already lost so much, but losing both mentors in a month is going to spell disaster for them. I can handle loss. I've done it before and I'll do it again. But Ezra's stopped eating. Sabine's stopped painting. Karabast, even Chopper's shut down. They need you to figure out how to heal and keep living."
Kanan hesitated, pressing the palm of his hand against his face, wiping at his eyes, almost surprised to find that he had any tears left to cry. He sniffed.
"I don't even know how to keep living," Kanan whispered, "How the hell am I supposed to show them?"
Zeb huffed a sigh. "I don't know," he admitted. "Honestly, I think leaving your room would be a good start."
That evening, Kanan joined his family when Ezra made dinner for them. He was glad that no one really commented on it, though he could practically feel Zeb's pride in him. There weren't any petty arguments, and barely any small talk, but it was a start. Ezra was still clearly frustrated with him, but he didn't say anything. Actually, if he was being honest with himself, Ezra was thrilled that Kanan came out of his room for once.
Sabine insisted that he join her as she ran diagnostics for the ship before bed, after Zeb and Ezra worked together in peace for once to clean the galley, and Kanan agreed, even though he felt he didn't really have a choice.
"Ezra shouldn't have said those things to you the other day," Sabine said, as Kanan sat in his usual co-pilot's chair, Sabine fixing some loose wires under the dash. "That's not fair."
"No," Kanan said, "It's completely fair. He's right. H…" He shook his head a little, still unable to say Hera's name out loud without feeling like his heart was being ripped from his chest. "She would be furious with me. Ezra has a point. I need to start acting like she would want me to."
Sabine smiled a little under the dash. She kicked Kanan's boot with hers.
"Good." she said, and Kanan could practically hear the smile in her voice. "I've missed you."
Kanan nodded. "I've missed you too." he said. "I'm so sorry, Sabine."
"No," Sabine said as she stood, brushing her hands on her pants. "Don't apologize. You have every right to feel the way you do."
"But I don't have the right to let everything else slip through the cracks," Kanan insisted. "I'm sorry, Bean. I'm sorry you're dealing with it all alone. I'm sorry I left."
Sabine felt her chest tighten and tears immediately filled her eyes. She hadn't dealt with anything, she avoided it, she worked hard, she made sure that everyone else stayed sane, but she didn't take care of herself. And Kanan could tell.
"It's okay," she said quietly, her voice cracking. Kanan shook his head and pulled her into his arms into an embrace, which she returned.
They stayed like that for a minute before the tears that threatened in the back of Sabine's eyes broke free and dripped down her cheeks, staining Kanan's shirt.
"I'm here now," Kanan told her.
Sabine squeezed him tight, ignoring the fact that Kanan hadn't showered in days, and wreaked of alcohol. His embrace was warm and comforting, and despite the heaviness on his heart, he was trying again.
"Thank you," Sabine whispered. She didn't let him go, and he didn't want her to.
Things got better.
Kanan started drinking less and less. He started working with Ezra to help him process his grief. Ezra learned quickly, as he always had, and soon started being the one to teach Kanan. Kanan forced himself to be open to the lessons his children gave him, and despite how deep his depression ran, he learned how to live again.
They ran missions, like in the good old days. They changed their call-signs, out of respect for Hera. It was a unanimous unspoken understanding, and they decided to use "Starbirds" instead, since Sabine's symbol of hope still reigned true.
They'd made some new friends and allies. Ironically, continued a healthy working relationship with Hondo Ohnaka and his crew of pirates, and even teamed up with Lando Calrissian and some of his allies a few times while working smuggling runs. As per usual, the crew was caught up in adventures and drama that they most of the time did not ask for. The Rebellion at large was doing good across the galaxy, destroying Death Stars, outrunning the Empire, striking them where they hurt most. Kanan, Sabine, Ezra, and Zeb did more vigilante work. They stole from the rich, gave to the poor, relocated refugees, and donated to causes that needed help. It wasn't always easy, and at many times, they were extremely broke, but they were doing good. And for the most part, they were happy. Or as happy as they could be.