This one's kinda short. I don't own Star Wars... Ramblings below!
"You seem very fond of those scars, Ezra."
"They're really cool, right? Like, people are just going to notice 'em and I'll be able to tell them about Mustafar."
"True. But it would be best to hide them in public. They're very…. definitive."
"…..Do you have scars, Fulcr- I mean, Ahsoka? Or should I call you commander or-"
"Ahsoka's just fine…."
It's just the three of them, a near-master, a nowhere-near-master, and a very enthusiastic padawan. And Kanan finds himself a bit peeved towards Hera- leaving him in the care of Fulcrum while she took the others on a supply run. Yes, he's a bit weary, but he's not completely immobile. Though, he supposes the real reason he's sitting quietly- brooding in the corner, really- is not because his pilot set a babysitter on him.
No, it's because of Ezra. Or, more specifically, the scars on Ezra's face.
Kanan doesn't get it. He should be proud, or apathetic to such a superficial matter at least. But he isn't. All he sees in those two slits is failure. His failure. And it doesn't stop when he closes his eyes. He sees them everywhere- only there's blood on the catwalk that acts as his padawan's deathbed. There's charred remains of his pilot. There's nothing but remains of an exploded Star Destroyer to his crew's name. There's the dark shadows of clones over he and his master.
It's not like there's better thoughts either. Over and over again, Kanan finds himself dreaming that he's back in that dreary cold cell, being electrocuted for pure enjoyment now. And he's afraid. He's afraid that he'll never get another chance to see his family again. They're going to kill him- he knows it. He's a useless coward that holds no secrets, that only knows how to cut and run. And golden eyes merely glare at him, twisted smile on a calculated expression. Between the waking world and the ones behind his eyes, he's almost not sure of reality anymore.
His hair is still loose- it had been pulled tight the entire time he had been away, and he doesn't know if he wants to put it back. So it hangs over him as he watches, silent, a mere observer watching Ezra go on and on about his daring rescue. Kanan wants to shut him up. But in a way, the smaller boy deserves to at least get some recognition. Even if he couldn't remember all the bragging he did before he passed out.
Lips twitch. He wants to smile- he wants to so badly. But waking up this morning was a terror and he can't seem to find the strength. So instead, he reaches out with the Force.
Of course, there's Ezra- a bright blue light that's energetic on the surface, switching attention constantly from the Togruta to his master in his little corner. And there's Fulcrum. It's a little harder to separate her signature from the energies surrounding- the bond between he and Ezra is much stronger. But it's there, unique in its ambiguity. Both signatures are hovering over his own, slightly worried about its secluded state, even as their physical embodiments are engaged in conversation. Kanan keeps himself and his thoughts distanced- there's no need for his dark dreams to overwhelm his padawan's. It's hard- there's nothing more he wants to do than to reach out- but the small thing has been through too much already.
"I don't have any scars myself, but my former master did lose an arm. He had it replaced with a cybernetic one." Ahsoka looks amused, and somewhat nostalgic. Ezra, in his child-like interest, freaks out.
"AN ARM!? Like, like- wow! That's so cool! ….I wonder what I would look like with a mechanical arm." The picture flashes dangerously in depths of Kanan's mind. He flinches, but fights to keep his composure- There is no emotion, there is peace.
"Mm-hm. He told me how it happened. He was fighting a dark-side user and whoosh- right off. He said it hurt so much he forgot to scream." The mental image is too much- whoosh, goes the red blade. Whoosh goes Ezra's arm. Kanan can't even get to him on time before-
With a pained groan, hands clapped over his eyes, the deluge of feelings comes barreling through. He can't hold it- the fear, the shame, the anger. He thought it had all left with the Inquisitor's demise- the anger that arose. The anger that he had exchanged for clarity in the Force- of course he couldn't be angry then- what good would he be to anyone on the dark side? But it hurts, this anger, this fear. Fear not for himself- fear for Ezra. Fear of being alone. Fear of being at the mercy of the Empire while his jury-rigged family is taken away. Fear of not doing. Fear of not being able to do.
Fear of losing a father- wait. This isn't his fear. This isn't his shame, this isn't his pride. It's a pride like no other- pride of a son for a father. Pride of a padawan for his master. Kanan looks up to see Ezra, still for once, gazing at him across the room with those brilliant blue. There's a stifling moment, where all that's known is the Force- the bond growing open the more Ezra pours his own feelings through.
And then he moves, moves with intensity, and before Kanan knows it, his apprentice has two arms wrapped around him in a hug, blue hair buried in his chest. I was afraid too. Don't you know?
I couldn't save you.
I couldn't fight with you. But I did. We both did. We might've failed, but at least we didn't only try.
You deserve better. I- A storm of pride and affection interrupts his thoughts, deep feelings as complicated as the sky is wide, while the hug holds tighter.
I deserve you. You understand me. Let me understand you. Please, don't hold it in. I'm here- let's face this together. A sigh, and the hug is returned. Kanan wonders when the student become the instructor.
Yeah.
As neither is willing to let go anytime soon, Ahsoka looks on the scene wistfully, knowing what a precious thing a bond between a padawan and a master is. Missing the comfort it could bring.
The silence it cut by a muffled gripe- "When are you gonna put your hair back up? Because it's kinda weird and looks like corzin sauce."
"…..like you're one to talk, kid."
The fear- it's still there, in the back of his mind, biding its time until night's embrace. It might always be there, in some small way, no matter what anyone does. But at the very least, the lost Jedi has someone who gets it- who can make the burden a little less intense.
And maybe later, he can return the favor tenfold.
Alright, some more thoughts for you guys this time around. I don't usually respond directly to reviews, but concerning the Guest who asked why there was no Kanera kiss in the last chapter, i kinda feel like I have to explain myself.
I could be lazy and say since I've never been kissed I don't have reference, but it actually has a lot to do with body language. A kiss, by my perspective, is possessive- it's a way for the initiator to say you're mine, while the recipient either chooses to deny or accept. While that can be romantic and stuff, I don't think that's what Kanan needs right now- he's suffering mentally, and Hera doesn't seem like one to selfishly take advantage of the fact that her dear friend is hurting. Personally, I don't think a Kanera kiss is going to take place until the Empire is defeated, or one of them is dying (Canon forbid!). A hug, on the other hand has the message of I'll support you, or I'll protect you. While still being romantic, it's the kind of message that Kanan needs. The special relationship between Kanan and Hera makes it mean more, rather than if it was a hug between Hera and Ezra or Kanan and Sabine. Get my drift?
Artist Challenge!: Older!Zeb trying to clean his bo-rifle and being awkwardly surrounded by younglings while Older!Ezra just laughs.
Has anyone given thought that the dark-skinned man in trooper armor we saw in the Star Wars VII trailer might be Zare? I mean, they said someone from Rebels is going to pop up in the new movie, why not the guy who's has and entire spin off book series? Think about for a sec. And then remember that Dhara is still missing- taken by the Empire. But for what reason, you ask? (coughcoughnewvillancoughcough) Just a thought. Hit up my profile for a poll concerning such stuffs.-CC