ACHING MEMORIES

Ezra didn't know where he was going. His feet travelled steadily along the halls of one of the Phoenix Squadron ships, apparently determined to walk and walk until his memories faded.

Ahsoka ... she was just ... gone.

It was still unreal to Ezra. It didn't actually happen, did it? He felt like he would bump into her any time now as he walked down the dim corridors. Surely any second now she would walk out of one of the many doors with a datapad in her hand, her armour clinking and her smile bright.

But she was just ... gone.

Ezra walked out of a small passageway into the mess hall. It was nearly pitch black inside and his eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark yet. Everyone had gone to sleep hours ago, but Ezra hadn't even tried; he knew he would just lie awake with the memories of the dead.

He knew that this was all his fault. It was his fault Kanan had lost his sight. It was his fault he nearly killed them all. It was his fault Ahsoka was nothing more than a treasured memory. If only he hadn't been so stupid ... what kind of a Jedi would make a massive mistake like that?

He walked around the tables and chairs, subconsciously using the Force to feel his way through the dark. The mess hall that had been so noisy and full of life just hours ago was now empty and eerily silent.

Ezra's body was heavy with exhaustion but his mind played the haunting screams of those lost like a broken record. He shuddered.

Then, all of a sudden, he felt overwhelmed by the darkness. The walls seemed to be getting closer and the air felt thin. Imaginary voices whispered all around him, pointing fingers and throwing blame. His mind raced. He had to get out.

His feet began to move faster underneath him. He hopped over the legs of chairs and a few scattered cups on the floor. The big gleaming exit sign appeared in front of him, but before he could get any closer, he tripped. With a gasp, he went plunging to the ground, landing on a pair of human legs.

An irritated grunt followed as he tried to get his bearings. He clumsily mumbled apologies, his mind still on other things.

"Oh, it's just you, kid," the voice said, a little cheerier this time.

"Rex?" Ezra asked, his eyes straining to see the figure in the dark.

"The one and only," he chuckled, not quite sounding himself. A strong, pungent smell filled Ezra's nose, making him cringe in disgust. He'd smelt the same stench whenever he'd walked past a bar on Lothal.

"Come, sit," Rex offered, lazily patting the ground next to him. The boy obeyed and sat down on the floor, not commenting on the fact that the clone was drinking, something he'd never seen him do. Ezra figured you couldn't blame him, especially after losing Ahsoka. It definitely wasn't the best way to cope, but he supposed it was the easiest.

"What're you doin' up, 'ey?" Rex slurred.

"Couldn't sleep," Ezra shrugged.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Rex replied, swirling the contents around in the bottle in his hand. He gave a chuckle. "Eh, what are we doing this for?" he grinned sluggishly, leaning against the legs of the chair behind him. "Why do we risk so much when we know we're going to lose it, am I right?" He took a gulp of his drink.

Ezra paused to think about it. "Well, I guess because we believe in something," he finally said. "Because we're passionate about it."

Rex scoffed lightheartedly. "The Jedi and my brothers believed in each other, and look where that got them," he said with a laugh, clearly not realising what he was saying. "Nah, belief is for children." His face dropped suddenly. "And I'm through with believing."

Ezra didn't say anything. He just looked at the ground in thought and listened to the clone down some more alcohol.

The boy suddenly looked up at him, hope shining in his eyes. "But Ahsoka believed. She had more belief than any of us. Don't you think she would've wanted-"

"Ahsoka is DEAD!" Rex burst out angrily, silencing the boy. Everything went quiet. The man's chest rose and fell in exasperation, his eyes flooding with grief. He blinked twice, reality catching up with him. "Ahsoka is dead," he repeated softly. "And i-it's all m-my fault..."

He slumped back against the chair with the bottle in his hand and took a long sip to stop the tears from coming.

"No, Rex," Ezra said, approaching him softly this time by placing a hand on the clone's shoulder. "It's not your fault."

Rex, who had been trying so hard not to dwell on the topic ever since they came back, gave in. "I ... I should've protected her," he said, his body shaking slightly with every word. "I could've protected her. If only I'd gone with you guys, she may s-still be a-alive..."

Ezra leaned back against a chair and bit the inside of his cheek. "No. It's my fault," he whispered. Rex glanced at him sadly. "I'm the one who insisted we trusted Maul. Ahsoka warned me against it ... and she was right." Ezra looked down at his lap.

"Yeah ... she tended to be right a lot," Rex said, subconsciously smiling a little as he thought back to the memories they'd shared.

"I should've listened to her," Ezra mumbled to himself.

Rex paused for a second and then sighed. "Well, I guess we're both hopeless," he shrugged, holding the bottle out to Ezra. The boy was tempted to take it for a moment, but then declined.

There was a long pause. Silence hung in the air like a reminder of the deaths Ezra had seen that day. Each lost face appeared in front of his eyes: the three Inquisitors, Ahsoka, Maul...

Maul was dead, right? He hoped so. He knew that it wasn't right to wish death upon someone, but he couldn't help it.

He had been so gullible to trust him. How could he have been so gullible...

Ezra sighed and looked at the drunken clone. Rex smiled tiredly back at him.

"Yeah. We're hopeless."