His parents were dead. There was no fixing that. They were gone, never to hug him, never to kiss him, never to tuck him tightly and tell him goodnight ever again. Ezra knew in the back of his mind that they were dead, but he let himself hope, and that killed him. This was the punishment for hope.
Kanan was asleep on the opposite set of benches, but Ezra sat, sleepless, on the roof, counting the stars, missing his thought about jumping of the nearby cliff, but thought better of it. He eventually came down and sat on his set of benches. Looking at Kanan, the pain on his heart lessened slightly, when he remembered he had another family, who loved him. They would never replace his parents, but they would love him anyway
Disclaimer: If I owned Rebels, why would I be writing fanfiction about it? Think about it.
So, guess who has a work schedule so swamped that she's drowning in it? THIS GIRL! So this is my excuse for not writing anything for the past 2(3?) weeks. Sorry?
As someone who's often contemplated suicide and has/sadly still self harms, just know if you need to talk, I'm always there! Come talk to me, I'll do my best to help!
There is a second part to this... that will be posted next week... if I remember. Feel free to yell at me if I forget.
May the LORD be with you, always!
~Midnight Luna