|| Okay, before the chapter I'd like to say a couple of things. First and most important thank you guys so much for the support of this story. I'll be honest, I didn't think it would get this much positive feedback and it seems like I'm still waiting for someone to point out every little flaw in the story (and there's plenty because the story doesn't line up exactly with canon). There is however, some very good questions I think need to be explained before I continue with this story, questions that probably won't be answered thoroughly in the story because that would seem a lot closer to mundane than anything else.
Why doesn't Zeb carry a gun / use one when him and Ezra were attacked? Zeb hates guns. Like absolutely 100% loathes them as they were what was used when his family was murdered. The only reason he actually works at a gun shop is because it was the only place that would hire him and he needed the cash to help out Hera and Kanan. So he gets over his animosity with the things during work but absolutely refuses to use one, and cause the same pain he felt when he was young.
Why don't their enemies attack them at once? That would be dumb on their part. They might own the police but not the government and a foster family suddenly dying and nobody doing anything about it would raise some white flags. And then they'd be in danger of getting caught and be locked up.
Why doesn't Kallus attack Zeb when he's most vulnerable (when he's drunk)? Several reasons, actually. One, Zeb never wonders in the shady part of town where it would be easy to dispatch someone and cover it up. No, he's in family neighborhoods with mothers and fathers and children and a man everyone is vaguely familiar with suddenly getting shot would, again, raise some questions. Two, he doesn't want to make it obvious that it's murder. Kallus is a smart man and he knows what would happen if anybody was able to pin a murder charge on him and he isn't willing to take that chance. And, lastly, he likes playing with Zeb. Toying with him. When he tried to hit him with a car and Ezra saved him he realized how much fun it would be to play with the family.
Are these people just going to go about life until one of them is managed to get dispatched? Ezra certainly thinks so but he's new and the youngest and they're still dancing uncertainly around him. Does that mean he's right? Maybe. Maybe not. I guess there's only one way to find out…
7:
Ezra felt something inside his stomach solidify in fear, twisting itself from deep within as the blood rushed from his head. Now that the elusive Martin Stein- the Inquisitor- was standing in front of him he didn't want to know anything about him. He wanted to get far, far away because this guy was like a shark and Ezra felt like a guppy.
"W-what are you doing here?" Ezra demanded mentally berating himself on his stutter. Showing any type of weakness to this guy was equivalent to running in a lion's den covered in fresh meat.
The Inquisitor didn't seem to mind as he casually straightened his posture, conveying an even more threatening aura, as he smirked dangerously. And Ezra suddenly felt subconscious because this was the guy who scared Kanan and Hera and Sabine and killed innocent people.
"You killed Hera's father," Ezra suddenly accused, his anger causing his tone to turn accusatory and biting.
The Inquisitor just smirked as he observed his nails causally and replied almost offhandedly, "Cham Syndella isn't dead."
Ezra felt as if the bottom of his anger had suddenly vanished, leaving him high on the after affects. It left him shaking and scared and weak.
He refused to show that weakness to this monster though.
"Kanan said-"
"Kanan doesn't know; neither does Hera and as far as either one of them is concerned, he is dead. What do you think though? Should you tell them so they can rush gallantly to his rescue?" Inquisitor asked, voice smug as he dropped his hand to smile that grin Ezra was coming to hate.
Ezra bunched his hands into fists at his side as he practically seethed through clenched teeth, "If you hurt either one of them I'll-"
"You'll what?" and this time there was no mirth in the man's voice as he narrowed slitted eyes at him and demand, "You're just a weak little boy with no direction in life. No family to call his own and anger as his only companion. What can something as insignificant as you do to someone like me?"
"Someone like you?" Ezra asked forcing his irate bitter comeback somewhere deep down where it wouldn't get him killed.
The Inquisitor just seemed to smile again and Ezra suddenly felt something cold creep down his spine when he noticed Kanan approaching them. The Inquisitor was still beside the dugout, out of sight, so all Kanan saw was Ezra waiting for him, pale and practically vibrating in anxiety and fear.
The man frowned, stopping in place and Ezra suddenly tried to figure out a way to convey the message that he needed to get far from here. Away from the Inquisitor.
Unfortunately for him, the Inquisitor must have caught on because he suddenly spun away from Kanan's blind spot and Ezra could image the malicious grin spread across the killer's face at the way all the color practically drained from Kanan's face leaving his face a dirty grey.
"You," Kanan snarled fists clenching around the baseball bat with murderous intent.
The Inquisitor raised both hands up from his side as he teased, "Me."
"What are you doing here?" Kanan demanded before his eyes focused on Ezra still standing behind the Inquisitor and Ezra felt his pulse quicken at the determined protective look that crossed the guy's features.
"Thinking," the Inquisitor explained before he turned to regard Ezra with a disinterested look as he snorted, "I see you and that woman are taking in anything now, huh?"
Ezra felt his head spin at the implication and he almost missed Kanan's next words.
"Who we do and do not allow in our home is our business and not yours," Kanan snarled, hatred rolling off him in waves and Ezra felt awe at the determined look that crossed the man's brow; the Inquisitor was less than impressed.
"Yes. I suppose so but, tell me, the fact that he is the offspring of Mira and Ephraim Bridger have anything to do with taking him under your wing?"
Ezra felt as if the floor was ripped out from underneath him unexpectedly. How does someone like the Inquisitor know about his parents? And why did their names cause Kanan to look so stricken all of a sudden?
"Ezra?" Kanan asked, voice gentle as light green eyes probed the teen for any sort of explanation.
Ezra was done talking.
"Shut up!" he screamed at the Inquisitor all the rage he's kept in since walking in on his parents murder suddenly exploding as he balled his hands into fists at his side and he practically bellowed, "You don't know anything so shut up!"
This time when the Inquisitor looked at him, it was one of incredulousness. Like he couldn't believe Ezra was questioning his right on stomping on the names of the best people Ezra's ever known. He still remembers eavesdropping on conversations they had about helping others over themselves.
It was like a puzzle piece clicked in his brain as a sudden sickening realization struck him and it was like his lungs stopped working altogether. His knees wobbled underneath him as he ran both of his shaking hands through his hair, shaking his head in denial.
"So you've finally figured it out, have you?" the Inquisitor demanded, sounding sly and his knees finally gave out altogether and he ended up crouched over as his brain fervently tried denying what was undoubtedly the truth.
"No," Ezra gasped feeling sick all of a sudden and everything became so clear.
His parents. Their death. This man. Everything. It was all connected and it hadn't just been some random homicide. It had been planned.
Someone had wanted his parents to be murdered.
His brain shut down upon the realization.
Ezra couldn't have been out for very long because upon waking he realized he was still on the baseball field as were Kanan and the Inquisitor. Neither one of them seemed happy.
"-weak little thing, isn't he?" the Inquisitor's voice filtered through his brain as blue eyes blinked open and he idly wondered how unfair it all was for something meant to be fun left him with such an empty feeling.
He had accepted his parent's murder a long time ago but then he thought it had been random. Now he knew it was anything but. Someone actually hated them enough to break in their house and kill them right in front of their seven year old son…
"NO!" he screamed suddenly, cutting off whatever Kanan was going to say as he climbed on his knees to glower at the man before him and practically snarled, "My parents were good people. They didn't deserve to die."
"Weak and stupid," the Inquisitor noted with a smug tone and something inside of Ezra tightened as anger, familiar and dangerous, caused his hands to shake.
Behind the Inquisitor, Ezra was still able to see Kanan, brows furrowed and eyes sharp as they flittered from him to the Inquisitor back to him and then the Inquisitor. He was angry- that much was obvious by the way the man's hands were curled into tight fists at his side but there seemed to be another emotion hiding behind his eyes. One Ezra still wasn't used to on him.
Fear. Kanan was scared.
"I'm not stupid," Ezra ground out more for Kanan then anything else because he's been called worst before and he can deal with it; Kanan, on the other hand, looked like he needed a distraction- anything to get his mind off the fact that the Inquisitor was there mocking them and there wasn't a police car within 100 mile radius that wasn't in this guy's pocket.
Or, perhaps, that was just Ezra's bitter tone talking. Police have made no indication that they want to help him but he was street trash, nothing else. He was an orphan that couldn't stay in one place for very long and they had better things to do then deal with him.
But something about them always seemed crooked to Ezra.
"Oh look here," the Inquisitor taunted and Ezra blinked out of his trail of thought to see the man had turned so that he was staring at him with beady little eyes, "the little one speaks."
"Your issues are with me," Kanan spoke up, stepping forward like he was going to confront the killer but then halted.
Ezra felt something icy shiver down his spine as he recalled Zeb saying something similar to one of Kallus's goons. It just sounded a lot less selfless coming from him and a lot more threatening. Now Ezra was almost certain he was about to see a side of the man he's growing to respect that he doesn't want to see.
The Inquisitor just snickered again, looking at Ezra like he couldn't believe what Kanan was saying to him before he replied, "He's a Bridger, though."
Whatever the heck that meant.
Kanan seemed to understand, wide eyes landing on Ezra who could only match his gaze with a large blue eyes. The Inquisitor just snickered again, smirking that stupid smirk.
"Ah well, sad that the children of this world have to suffer the sins of their parents but here isn't really the time," the man decided as he turned to walk away though not before he promised, "I'll be back."
And then he was gone, walking away, and neither Ezra nor Kanan tried to stop him. Instead, Kanan rushed over to his side and helped him sit up.
"What is he waiting for?" Ezra asked voice tight and scared as he allowed Kanan's worried hands help him sit up.
Kanan's glossed over expression just glanced over in the direction he disappeared in and whispered in a voice so tight it was surprising he didn't strangle himself with it, "A better chance."
To say Hera wasn't happy was kind of an understatement.
Her complexion turned a waxy sort of pale as her green eyes turned to stone. Kanan just stood several feet away from her, head bowed slightly and Ezra couldn't help but think that they looked like a high school couple sharing a secret.
In some ways, he supposed, they were.
As one they both turned their heads to look at him- probably regarding his worth- and a knot formed somewhere deep inside him.
This was it. They no longer wanted him and they were going to throw him away like a pair of old shoes and he should've ran when he had the chance.
Deep down, though, he knew he wouldn't have been able to. Despite his best efforts, these people have become important to him and he feels protective around them. Like a stupid guard dog that can't take a hint…
"Ezra?" Hera asked, her voice breaking him from his thoughts and his head snapped up to find the woman had somehow moved across the room to stand in front of him without him noticing.
You're losing your touch, a mutinous voice somewhere inside his brain and Ezra resisted the urge to flinch, instead just shuffling around on the couch in sudden discomfort.
"Yes ma'am?" he asked, hiding the uncertainty in his voice- trading it with politeness.
If he had to guess, though, he would say that Hera saw through him like a freshly cleaned window. He wondered if she liked what she saw on the other side.
"Ezra," she repeated, voice soft and gentle and Ezra felt something that felt like hope shatter; she was getting rid of him, he was too much trouble.
"I'm sorry," he apologized bowing his head in shame and he felt rather than heard or saw her bend forward so she could cup both her hands around his cheeks.
"Don't," she demanded voice iron and eyes burning as she continued, "Don't you dare pin this on yourself. It's not your fault. Do you understand that? None of this is on you; I'm just sorry you got caught in the crossfire."
"Hera, he said that your father was still alive," Ezra piped up and it sounded like a protest.
The grip around his cheeks tightened before she dropped both her hands to her side, fisting her shaking palms and letting out a remorseful sigh.
"He's messing with your head, Ezra," and it sounded final, like she wasn't going to believe anything else and Ezra respected that.
It was like someone coming to him and telling him that his parents are alive- not dead. He wouldn't believe them and not because he saw their bloody bodies, but because to survive on the streets for as long as he did he accepted the fact that they were never coming back. Otherwise he never would've made it.
But something nagged itself in the back of his head and Ezra opened his mouth to argue with Hera but one look from Kanan instantly had him clamping his mouth shut.
"I'm sorry," he repeated and when she sighed again it was one of a weary mother.
"Ezra, if you're going to live with us, you need to stop apologizing all the time," she informed him, voice firm.
"What?" Ezra asked, head snapping back up and eyes practically bulging from his skull.
"You heard me," she huffed folding her arms over her chest, "Don't make me repeat myself."
"You mean, you still want me?" and it came off more needy and vulnerable than he meant to but- at the moment- he didn't care.
"Why would we not want you Ezra?" Kanan asked, speaking to him for the first time since the baseball field and Ezra almost forgot that he was present.
"I-I because the Inquisitor said something about my parents and I thought-"
"Forget everything the Inquisitor told you," Kanan demanded, voice firm and eyes hard as he came to stand directly in front of the youth, "He's a manipulative liar trying to get inside your head. To make you doubt yourself."
Ezra chuckled humorlessly, folding his arms around himself, as he mumbled, "Some list of enemies we've got, right?"
Kanan blinked, probably taken aback by Ezra's use of 'we' before he smiled and it was the closest thing to an expression his father used to give him that it made something inside of Ezra ache.
"Well…" the man trailed off, eyes rolling over to Hera and if Ezra was paying closer attention he would've noticed her shake her head.
He wasn't paying them any attention, though, lost in the fact that these people weren't getting rid of him. They wanted him. They weren't going to abandon him.
And this time he was determined not to lose them.
School was strange.
Nobody seemed to give him any special treatment but he couldn't shake the feeling of eyes following him. Everywhere he went, it seemed, someone was watching him and it didn't matter how many times he shook it off as paranoia the feeling remained.
"You alright kid?" Sabine asked him at lunch, leaving her group of friends to sit with him eyes bright with concern.
"I'm better than great," Ezra replied, trying to sound cool but failing miserably.
It did earn a slight smirk from her, though, as she settled in front of him seemingly happy. Content with him being there with her. It was a new feeling Ezra was still getting used to.
"Hey listen," Sabine suddenly spoke up opening her bottle of apple juice, "I'm supposed to have art today after school but if you want we can go hang out."
Tempting but Ezra still wasn't comfortable spending alone time with people. Not to mention the fact that every time he's alone, another person trying to kill him pops up.
"Uh… no Sabine, you don't have to-"
"Oh please," she interrupted rolling her eyes and smirking around her drink before she swallowed and continued, "I'm way ahead. I can afford to miss one day."
"Yeah but-"
Somewhere on the other side of the cafeteria, a crowd of people started laughing. Both Ezra and Sabine's attention snapped in that direction and Ezra heard Sabine sigh in exasperation.
"Wonder what they're looking at?" Ezra asked, just for the sake of talking and feeling any silence that settles between him and Sabine. It was strange, being uncomfortable about silence.
"Only one way to find out," Sabine replied already out of her chair and halfway across the cafeteria before Ezra's brain could register what she said.
He stumbled from his chair and followed quickly, like an obedient dog following his master.
They made it to the crowd and Sabine suddenly froze, back tense, as she practically growled, "Ezra."
"What?" Ezra asked, blinking in surprise and squinting to get a better look at what she was looking at; what he saw wasn't good.
On the bulletin board was a newspaper article about his parents' murder. Some kid had crossed out the word 'DEATH' in the headline, replacing it with 'SUICIDE.' Underneath it they scrawled 'BECAUSE WHO WOULD WANT TO TAKE CREDIT FOR SUCH A LOSER?' before pinning a picture of him underneath.
"Is this some kind of sick joke!" Sabine suddenly shouted shoving her way through and ripping the paper off the wall, crumpling it in a ball and glaring at the crowd, "Whose responsible?"
"Why does it matter?" some random kid Ezra's never seen before asked and Sabine's cold stare focused on them and Ezra wondered why the guy wasn't frozen stiff by the ice in his foster sister's eyes.
"It's sick and mean and-"
But Ezra didn't hear the rest of it. Something inside his stomach revolted and he sprinted out of the cafeteria, Sabine calling his name. He didn't stop though, didn't even bother slowing down as he made it to the bathroom and emptied his entire stomach in a toilet- the image of his dead parents flashing in his brain.
Wiping his mouth, he refused to allow himself to cry as he exited the stall and nearly ran headfirst with a dark skinned teen boy. Dark hair was trimmed close to his scalp and he looked equally surprised running into him.
"Wow man, you don't look so great," the boy pointed out and Ezra folded his arms over his chest as a light sparked in the boy's eyes and he exclaimed, "You're that kid from the news article!"
"So what?" Ezra snapped, angry and ready to punch someone in the face.
The boy blinked, relaxing his frame into a more passive one as he admitted, "Nothing. It's just… that's messed up and whoever did it is an idiot and a jerk and should mind their own business."
And Ezra felt the hostile feeling inside him uncurl when he realized the kid was on his side. At least he now knew not everyone in this school are complete jerks.
"Oh hey, the name's Zare Leonis," the boy introduced, sticking his hand out in greeting smile bleeding friendliness.
And Ezra ignored the protesting voice in the back of his brain as he accepted the hand.
"Ezra," he replied honestly, "Ezra Bridger."
He found Sabine ripping more of the articles off the wall, face tight with anger, and when he tapped her on the shoulder he swore she nearly swung at him. Recognition flickered in her expression before she got a chance to and her face melted into one of sympathy.
"Ezra-"
"Save it," he interrupted not wanting to hear an apology from her, "It's not your fault."
"I swear, the second I find out who's responsible he's a dead man," she promised, eyes bright with hatred and something warm and fuzzy tickled Ezra's insides.
It was nice, knowing there were at least two people on his side.
"It's fine. Just some stupid prank," Ezra brushed off although on the inside he was itching to kill the punk himself.
Her shoulders sagged as she asked, "You sure?"
Ezra just nodded, not trusting his voice. He knew the second he would try to say anything it would come off as either stupid or hypocritical.
"Come on," she finally urged balling the papers into a ball and slamming them in a trashcan, "Let's go home."
"But your club-"
"Forget it," she denied beckoning him to follow with a shrug of her arm, "I can afford to miss a day."
So Ezra hurried to follow her and for the first time in a long time he felt happy, like he finally found a place where he belonged.
And when he practically shredded one of the articles off the wall, Sabine didn't comment.
|| Again, sorry for the late update and short chapter. Hope you enjoyed it though and before anyone says anything- I know Zare doesn't know Ezra's real name but he wouldn't just give some random alias to some kid he meets in the bathroom. That would be weird and creepy.
Also, don't expect another author's note anytime soon. I don't like how they ruin the flow of the story. Keep up the good work guys. Your reviews always make me smile. ||
