Content Note: Can be read with the "forced mind reading is a metaphor for rape" interpretation or not.

He's in a precarious place with Ezra. Trust is hard to rebuild once it's gone, which means now is not the time to upbraid him further for telling Maul about the Jedi holocron. Never mind that telling a stranger had been dangerous and foolish. Had Kanan arrived even seconds later than he did, he'd have returned to the Ghost to find only bodies, and all because Maul knew. In his dreams, where he still sees clear as day, he knows he'll be revisiting that particular nightmare for weeks. He doesn't blame Ezra for what happened on Malachor. He's not sure he could ever forgive him, or himself, if the others died for Ezra's well-meant mistake.

At the moment, everyone is alive, and the holocrons are out of anyone's grasp. Whatever Maul saw is tomorrow's problem. So is re-establishing his role with his own Padawan. In the old days, the transition went from young student to able apprentice to partner and friend. Ezra's getting promoted faster than he should be because Kanan needs his help. That's going to be trouble if they don't both soon learn where the new boundaries are, and how to navigate the difference.

Tomorrow.

Tonight is for celebrating not dying again. Ezra's got their borrowed shuttle, keeping at their wing as they jump back towards Atollon. Zeb took the gunner seat to keep him company. Funny. Sometimes they can't stand the sight of each other, and sometimes they're best pals.

"We'll meet you there," Hera says, and she cuts the comm. He hears the sigh, now that the line is closed. Sabine's gone back to her room to decompress. The only other one here is Chopper.

"It could have gone a lot worse," Kanan says. "We got lucky."

"I guess we did." She stands up. "I'm going to get a little shut-eye." She opens the hatch. For a second, he sits there, then he follows her back to the crew quarters. He hears her head turn to look back at him, but she doesn't say anything.

Chopper doesn't join them, which is good, because droids are famous for not taking a hint, especially that one. When Kanan first came aboard, Chopper tried to airlock him. Twice.

He doesn't like to think about the airlock, and the cold of space. He wants to think about getting warm.

"Hey," he says just as they reach their quarters. He opens his door, taking Hera's hand with a squeeze. "Come in for a chat?"

He hears the sudden intake of her gasp, and feels her pulse jump hard before she pulls her hand away. "Thanks, no."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."

The bald lie is more worrying than anything else she could have said. No one has mentioned injuries. Sabine said they'd tried a revolt that hadn't worked. He hasn't sensed anyone missing a limb. That doesn't mean no one got shot, or worse.

"How bad are you wounded?"

"I'm not. I'm tired, and I'm going to bed." She opens the door to her own quarters, and he follows her inside. "I didn't invite you."

He presses the close button then folds his arms. "Talk."

"Good night, Kanan."

He hears her move. For a moment, he wonders if she's going to push him out the door, but that's not the sound she's making. She's opening her drawers. There's a familiar sound he hasn't been privy to for several months as Hera unfastens her jumpsuit and drops it in the small cleaner for the night. He listens to her goggles as she sets them on the stand, and the sound of her cap sliding off before joining the rest of her clothes. He hasn't seen her this way in too long. He remembers the image very clearly.

Listening to her don her pajamas doesn't ruin the mental picture much.

"You're still here," Hera says flatly, sitting down on her bunk.

"You got naked and you expected me to leave?"

"So you did get your eyesight back." The teasing almost puts him at ease, if it wasn't for the edge he hears under the rest. Teasing her back seems the best plan.

"That'd be nice. In the meantime, I can replace whatever you're wearing with whatever I like inside my head. For the record, you look really good in metallics and gem tones."

There's another intake of breath. The smirk he's started drops. Hera's emotions have always boiled close to the surface, easy enough to read. He can sense her in another room, and know if she's worried, or if she's happy.

Hera's scared.

His first instinct is to go to her side, but she pulled away hard a few minutes ago. He crouches awkwardly, bringing himself to face her without touching. "What happened? Don't say nothing."

"I told him where your holocron was."

It's a simple confession, full of self-recrimination. Kanan's irritated with Ezra for telling Maul about the Jedi holocron, while Hera's blaming herself for the discovery. It's a mess, and they all nearly died. And that's not what's bothering her.

"You didn't have a choice. He'd have stuck his lightsaber through Sabine or Zeb if you didn't." It's a guess. Maul was happy to use their friends as a tool against Kanan and Ezra. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out the fastest way to force Hera to cooperate.

"He didn't have to. He pulled it right out of my head." Her voice is thin. "He reached in and took whatever memories he wanted. I couldn't stop him."

Dark Side mental probes are hell. He remembers the feel of the Grand Inquisitor digging around with agonizing fingers inside Kanan's brain, and he's had the training to fight back.

"I know how that feels."

"It was horrible." She's pulled back further from him. "He could have taken anything. He could have found out the locations of all the cells in the Rebellion. He dug through everything I knew about the two of you until he ripped out what he wanted. There was nothing I could do."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I know it wasn't my fault," she snaps. "I hate that Maul took that from me. I hate him."

He already loathes the creature. This is just one more crime to lay at his metal feet. "We'll see him again, unfortunately. If you want some payback, I'll be glad to help."

He doesn't know how to read the silence that follows. She hasn't fallen asleep.

"I didn't know Force users could read minds that way."

"It's a Dark Side technique. To be honest, I've wondered why persuading someone with the Force isn't considered one of those." He's still musing over Sabine's report from when the team rescued Hondo. Compelling a guard to open the door for them is one thing. Compelling someone to shoot at his friends then commit suicide is way past that line, and is just the kind of anti-Jedi propaganda that hounded Kanan's steps back during the purge. Finding out what Ezra did has hit him in pretty uncomfortable places.

Hera heard that report, too.

"You have that power."

There's a sudden, terrible clarity. This isn't about Maul, or Ezra, or anyone else. For the first time since they met, she's frightened of Kanan.

A lie would be easy now. A lie would reassure her, bring back some of the equilibrium she'll never let the others see she's missing. He can tell her Jedi aren't capable of that violation. She wants to believe him.

They tell each other the truth whenever possible.

"Yeah."

"You've never mentioned it before." She's not accusing him of anything. She's too withdrawn inside herself to start down that road yet.

He rubs his hand over his face, thinking. Truth is hard, and trust is harder. Hera is his partner and his best friend. Anything he hides now will only damage both.

"The Force is a tool. The only difference between me and something like Maul is how I choose to use it. I try not to hurt people. I do, sometimes. You've seen me throw someone against a wall. I don't know if he's going to get up again. I make someone open a door for us, I don't know if she's going to face a firing squad later. The best I can do is make the right call in the moment."

"You'd force your way into someone's mind if you thought it was the right thing to do."

He can't read her thoughts, not without delving in the same way Maul did to her. He knows Hera better than anyone, though. For the first time, she's considering him a threat, and Ezra, too. She's thinking over possible plans if either went rogue, if they attempted the kind of vicious attack Maul had. She's wondering if she can protect herself, or the rest of their crew.

"No. Because there would never be a time when that was the right choice to make."

She prods him further. "What if Ezra's in danger? What if it makes the difference between saving Sabine's life and letting her die?" She doesn't believe him, and that hurts, but she's hurting, and he's in a better place to forgive just now.

"If I crossed that kind of line to save them, it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't be me any more and you'd be calling me Darth Doom or something. I'd consider it a great favor if you'd shoot me at that point."

"We shot him. It didn't work. Nothing we did stopped him."

Not surprising. Maul is a menace out of time, burning with old hatreds and new lusts. That doesn't make it any easier on someone who's never felt powerless in her whole life, not before today. Hera burns, too, brighter than any beacon he's ever seen. Her belief in her cause, and her confidence that the Rebellion will succeed, even her faith in her team, these have never once wavered as long as they've known each other. She's off-balance now, though she'll never let the rest of the crew know.

"Then we'll find a way to stop him together. And if I ever go to the Dark Side, you have my permission to use whatever that solution is on me."

"I wouldn't wait for your permission." He hears the smile in her words. She's not fine, not now. Time will help.

He stands from his crouch, feeling his joints move into place. "Get some sleep. Chopper can bring us in when we get back to the base."

"You can stay."

He turns his head. There's a lot to read into those words, but they're not back at a place where he should. "Are you sure?"

"I don't want to be afraid of you. We can't live that way." She swallows, and it's loud like a blaster shot in here. "I can't go into your quarters. Not for a while. But you can stay here tonight. I don't want sex. I'd just feel better if you were close by."

That's another thing he's always appreciated about Hera. She's always up front with him when she wants to get physical and when she doesn't, and he tries to do the same with her. They've got enough cultural differences between them for either to spend time second-guessing what the other's in the mood for.

"All right."

He takes off his mask, setting it beside her goggles. The burn is ugly, he knows without seeing. In better days, she'd be helping him slip off his clothes now, her fingers enjoying the skin underneath and her mouth moving against his. Tonight he's pulling his own shirt over his head and dropping everything into the cleaner beside hers. Clad in just his shorts, he joins her on the bunk, the two of them working out arms and legs and lekku and hair until they're curled together in the small space.

Trust is hard, but she's trusting him tonight, as much for herself as for him. Kanan promises himself that he's going to live up to that trust, no matter what comes. It's all they've got.

end

Reviews welcome.