A/N: hello! remember me! this was in my WIPs and as i was clearing them out i realised, damn, this is almost finished why did i never publish. well here we are. please enjoy 3
Kanan comes to with a headache raging at his temple, something unfamiliar, as well the stale surroundings which hug his senses. It's old and musty, slightly damp and just plain wrong.
His memory fails him now, with no memory of how exactly he'd ended up here, or the source of his headache. He'd moved to follow Maul… and then...
"Dume."
He stiffens at the name, at the words, even more so because it's a voice he recognises - Ezra's, toying with his past as if it were dangling from a delicate string. Reaching out with the Force proves painful, to try and find his wayward apprentice, as it pushes back on him and his head.
"It's okay, Kanan. I'm here." A hand settles on his shoulder, a touch which confirms yes, it's Ezra, radiating the Force from his palm. But it's also not Ezra; there's no reassuring presence in his mind where the kid usually had himself nestled, no hum of the light, no nothing. "You're on Dathomir. You remember?"
The absurdity of it all hits Kanan with the question: his and Ezra's last conversation, that damn holocron, now yes, Dathomir. Where Maul showed up. He hisses, "Don't play coy with me, Ezra." He struggles to sit up, and the kid's helping him, a hand on his back. "Of course I remember. Now you better start by telling me what the hell is going on."
"Dume," is Ezra's answers, the same as before. "Or, well, doom. However you want to pronounce it."
Trying to reach out again proves useless: it's just him and Ezra he can discern wherever they are on Dathomir. No Maul, no famed Plagueis, and no Hera and the Rebellion either.
"Whatever game they've got you playing, Ezra, please. Cut it out." He swallows, because that's the wrong settling over all his senses: his concern, his fear, his panic. This is happening. The dark side is here with Ezra. "You're scaring me."
Ezra scoffs. "Wasn't your first question though, was it?" You know: 'are you okay'." Before Kanan can ever splutter to answer that, he goes on, "And I'm fine. I made my choice."
Kanan does splutter. "What choice, Ezra? You walked away before we could even begin setting things right."
"We had weeks to set things right. And you spent all of them pretending everything was alright then blaming me when it wasn't."
The disbelief settles into Kanan's chest hard. The kid's anger is there - blue and cold, like the touch of the dark side on Kanan's shoulder where they sit joined. Otherwise, there's nothing. So it means Ezra is now everything to his overtime senses, and to the Force enveloped around him. It's crushing, even more so because of how calm Ezra sounds, despite his inner turmoil.
It means the words feel heavy, hopeless, but he still tries, "No, that's just - that's the holocron talking. The dark side. Maul. They got into your head, none of us feel like that. And I don't, either."
A beat of silence, where Kanan allows himself to hope. He wants nothing more than to get through to him, to get him home where he belongs.
"Does Dume feel like that?"
"Dume is gone, Ezra. You know that. I've been Kanan Jarrus - your master, your friend - the whole time you've known me."
"Huh," Ezra murmurs. "I just remember what you told me about your master. Dume's master. You told me you got her killed."
The imagery is vivid at Ezra's words: the smell of the mud, the heat of blaster bolts, the snap-hiss of Depa's blade as she ignites it to defend herself from the Clones - family turned enemy. His fear is tangible, and he chokes it, watching the scene unfold before him.
I'll be right behind you.
He pulls away from Ezra's hand where it burns him, a gasp pulled from his lips. He knows the tendrils of the dark side which leave him without the contact; they are the same tendrils which had followed Ezra all those weeks.
This is happening. He asks the dark, "What do you want from me, Ezra?"
There's a non-committal sound from the blackness, and the shifting of boots against the ground. Kanan doesn't dare reach out - he can feel the dark side pushing hard on his mind as Ezra considers the question.
"How did it feel?" Another beat of silence, where Kanan rakes in an uneven breath. "Killing her?"
What a question. It's worse it's from a person he'd never consider hearing it from, no matter how close they were. The words are cold as they leave his tongue, "You know you don't mean that, Ezra."
"Oh no, I do. They asked me to kill you."
"... They?"
"You said it before: the holocron, the dark side, Darth Maul. Whoever else." More sounds of movement in the darkness, where Kanan braces himself for Ezra's hand again, except it never comes. His words do, "I was just considering if I really wanted to do it. They offered me a lot, you know, to come here."
And Kanan just lets him talk, lets it wash over him, because either pure disbelief or the crushing presence of the dark side have consumed his own words completely. Ezra goes on, with that same tone of voice he'd use in briefings, where he was finally taking up the mantle of leadership he deserved. Where he debated strategy with Hera and Sabine. Where he talked with other Rebels and commanded their respect and loyalty. Where he would sit with Kanan for hours in meditation, words littered with the Force and the light between them.
"They offered me a way out from this life. I never asked for this, to be your padawan. Or to be fighting in a war. I told you that already, but they offered more: if I join them, I can use the holocron to end this war once and for all. The same holocron you didn't want me going anywhere near." Ezra now does touch him, but Kanan has lost the energy to react to the cold touch which makes his shoulder ache. "Did you hear that, Kanan?" Ezra gives him a shake, those calm words taking on a tone of urgency, "I can finish all of it, right now, if I just agree to go with them and leave the rest of this behind. That's why I came. We could have done it with the holocron, too, but you didn't want to see the things I could with it and all the people I could save. They know, too, that you'll never agree to me doing this. That's why they asked me to kill you, so you can't stop us. But I told them I needed to talk to you first." Another shake, and more desperate words, "I don't want to do it, Kanan, so please. Tell me you understand. Tell me you'll help us."
Kanan can do nothing but shake his head. "I…"
"We can start again. No more Dume, no more Jarrus, and no more Bridger." Ezra takes his other shoulder now, and it's that contact which blows Kanan out of the water - he can see him. Tanned skin, blue hair, yellow eyes. The two of them huddled in the dark, some ancient cavern, and the evil which stirs beneath the ground. "I can forgive you, I know I can. I know what happened was hard for you, Kanan, and I know you were only scared about losing me. Now you can't ever again. Not if we do this."
The dark side hisses through his body like a cold chill, racking him with a shiver. It's smothering, choking him from the inside out, meaning he shakes his head and tears his attention to the ground. He can't see him like this, he can't hear these words, coming from his own apprentice's mouth.
"You…. you can't believe that, Ezra. You can't."
It turns angry; Ezra grips him hard and out Kanan's sight extends as more of the Force is thrown against his barriers. It's there he notices their audience in the mouth of the cave, Maul his hand on his lightsaber, and another, who is smiling. Plagueis. They are watching. Waiting.
Kanan wants to be sick.
"I told you, Kanan. I made my choice. Now it's time for you to make yours, or I will have to kill you. I don't have any other choice."
"Ezra, you always have a choice. That's one of the most important things I taught you. You have a choice to do what's easy, and what's right. This - now. Ending the war with these people, with the holocron. It's not right." Their audience seems surprised at his awareness; Maul thumbs the ignition on his sabre and Plagueis's grin spreads impossibly wide. "Coming home with me, to your family, that's right. We can sort this out, I promise you, I will stop at nothing until it's sorted out."
Now Ezra's shaking his head, and those are tears in his eyes, anguished and torn. Kanan wants more than nothing to reach out and hug him, to chase away all that turmoil. "I… I can't. Kanan." He can hear the tears in his voice, and oh, it breaks his heart. "I can't."
"You can." Kanan's own hand covers one of Ezra's, holding on tight. "Take my hand. Stand up. We'll walk out of here together."
"You'll be right behind me, right?"
I'll be right behind you.
Kanan chases away the images pressing against his mind, encouraged by the dark side swirling around them. And lets himself hope, because Ezra's taken his hand, and his scrubbing at his eyes. "Yes, Ezra. Always."
"Then…" He takes a shaky breath, meeting Kanan's eyes, the blindfold. Kanan gives him a wet smile, which is when Ezra ignites his lightsaber, stabbing him clean through the chest. "I'm sorry. Kanan. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I-"
The shock envelopes Kanan quickly, a cold feeling unlike the dark side around them, but the agony of betrayal and failure. Ezra's taken him around the shoulders and pulled him to his own chest, sobs wracking his tiny frame, that litany filtering through Kanan's racing emotions: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Kanan I'm so sorry-"
"No." Ezra's breath hitches at Kanan's answer, and he squeezes him tighter, burying his face into the crook of his neck. "I… I'm sorry. Ezra." The words hiss out of him, through the hole in his chest, through the tear which slips out of his unseeing eyes, "I failed you."
Now Ezra takes his face, palms resting on either cheek, and draws their foreheads together so they share Kanan's last breaths. "No, you didn't. You didn't. Kanan, you didn't. I'm sorry, you didn't fail me. I did this."
"It's time to go, little one." That cloaked figure is here, Plagueis, his scarred features regarding their embrace with little other than a glance. He places a hand on Ezra's shaking shoulder. "Your time comes now, the real work is beginning."
Kanan can't summon any hatred, only resignation as Ezra accepts the hand of his shoulder and lets Kanan go. He sets him down gently, on his side, looking across the ancient grounds of the Nightsisters.
He can do nothing but watch now, wait, as Plagueis had done for the life to drain from him. He watches intently, fighting the pain which stirs at his chest, and the emotion which stirs everywhere else. He needs to know, who exactly he lost Ezra to, how exactly he failed.
The Force grants him such a courtesy.
Ezra kneels before Plagueis, who pulls back his hood. His face is disfigured but Ezra does not flinch, only wipes at his eyes to rid of the remaining tears.
"I am proud of you, Ezra. I can tell we will work well together." He sets his hand on Ezra's shoulder again, which is when Kanan's newfound vision begins to waver. He wills the Force to stay, holding it in the pit of stomach. "You know who I am, no?"
"No." Ezra spares a look to the mouth of the cave, where Maul still stands, a hand ever-present on his lightsaber. "But I know you're Maul's master. I know you owe him, and now you owe me."
Plagueis laughs. "That I do," he says.
"Until then," Ezra answers, and Kanan can sense the last of the light fueling his anger now, as Ezra spares him a glance, "you're no different than the Empire, to me."
Again, the Sith laughs, a full-body laugh this time. "You are a smart boy, Ezra. I can see what my apprentice saw you in you, and I can see why we will end this war together so swiftly." He leans closer, ducking his chin, so that he and Ezra are face-to-face, nearly forehead-to-forehead. "Maybe I am no different than the Empire to you, but I assure you, that will change. I am simply what I am:The Sith No One Knew Existed. A foil to the very Empire that I despise. Or, we shall simply it: you may call me S.N.O.K.E." He smiles now, wide and evil. "Snoke."
Ezra settles to one knee now, head bowed, and Plagueis - Snoke - straightens. "Then, Lord Snoke, I swear myself to your service to take down the Empire and restore the galaxy to its rightful state."
"Good." Snoke turns to leave now, drawing his hood again, and Ezra follows him. Kanan's vision blurs. "Good. Come, then. We have word to do. You and Maul - you are my knights, now, my warriors in this fight."
"We can be your Knights of Wren," says Ezra, his voice chased away by the dark spots approaching the edges of Kanan's eyes. "Fighting for what's right."
The cavern is empty, save the sound of their retreating footsteps. The Force follows them out.