Chapter 20
Hey Guys! Sorry about Saturday. I was going to update, but, honestly, I fell asleep. I took my first ever SAT, and I was exhausted. And there's even more bad news. There will be no updates next weekend because I have to study for midterms. The next time I'll update will be on either the 18th or the 19th. Sorry. But hopefully this chapter will satisfy you guys until then.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars Rebels or its characters.
Ezra could still see the blood. It was soaking through his bandages, splotches appearing over time. No matter what the doctors did, his wound wouldn't stop bleeding. This set of bandages had been the fifth one they had wrapped around his side.
The doctors had left him alone in his room, exasperated that they couldn't fix it. They had given Ezra dirty looks, as if he was willing his wound to bleed.
Yeah, because I want to bleed out and die.
Ezra prodded at his side gently, only to recoil at the pain that came forward. He watched as the place where he touched started to redden and spread.
Probably shouldn't have done that.
Pushing his possibly deadly wound away from his thoughts, Ezra looked around at his surroundings. His new living arrangements were much better than his closed off room. Although it was much bigger and open, Ezra couldn't help but feel as if he was waiting to be executed.
In a way he was.
The Inquisitor was ready to kill everything about him that made him who he was. He was ready to kill his bond with Kanan. Although Ezra had basically done that already.
It was broken in everything but name.
Ezra sighed. Don't think about that. I can fix it.
Once the Inquisitor was taken care of, Ezra would beg for Kanan's forgiveness. He had seen the look on his face when he had pushed him away.
Utter sorrow.
It was all his fault.
He would beg for his forgiveness, and say he was sorry. So very, very sorry.
It was all he could do.
The Inquisitor could feel the boy's emotions. They were rampant; sadness at one moment, followed by anger, only to be replaced with regret.
That last emotion troubled the Inquisitor greatly.
The boy could not regret anything he had done. The Inquisitor would have to beat it out of him. And he would have to move quickly. The Jedi and his allies were like cockroaches.
They would be back.
"Collect the boy and bring him to me." He ordered two Storm troopers, who nodded before leaving the room.
The Inquisitor watched them go before turning towards the window, gazing out into space. Somewhere out there the Jedi was licking his wounds, most likely already planning his next rescue attempt.
Please try, Jedi. I'll be sure to end you then.
The Inquisitor felt the boy's confusion and smiled.
Or, perhaps, it'll be your former Apprentice who will.
Sabine didn't know who to comfort.
Hera was trying to cover up her sorrow, saying that she had to go man the Ghost, but Chopper was having none of it.
Who knew the bot had a heart?
Sabine vaguely thought of Zeb, and guilt shot through her. She shouldn't have snapped at him. It wasn't his fault, and she knew that, but it was so much easier to blame someone.
Sabine sighed and looked at her legs.
She should have been there.
She could have manned the Phantom, protected it until they were all there. They could have flown away and laughed about kicking the Inquisitor's butt until they met up with Hera. But she had been on the Ghost. Because of her legs.
Sabine had never felt so useless before in her entire life.
And now she didn't even know how to comfort the people closest to her.
Chopper didn't care that Ezra was gone.
He didn't care that everyone was sad that he was gone.
Chopper didn't care about any of them.
But he cared about Hera.
She was sad that Ezra was gone. She was sad that they didn't rescue him. She was sad.
And Chopper honestly couldn't understand why.
The boy was a dime a dozen. Sure he could use the Force and was slightly more endearing than the rest of the kids on Lothal, but he wasn't special.
And yet Hera was sad.
So the boy was needed after all.
Chopper would kill the kid if he ever saw him again.
Kanan hadn't left his room in days.
He had enclosed himself in his room, refusing to leave. They had all tried to force him out, said they needed to talk, but the door never opened. Honestly, they weren't even sure if he was alive in there. They ever heard any noise when they tried to talk to him. Silence was their only response. Kanan was lost to them.
And if they lost Kanan, they lost Ezra.
For only a Jedi could find his Apprentice, and if they couldn't get Kanan to come out….
Then what would become of Ezra?
Right now Hera was in front of his door, pleading that he come out.
"This isn't helping anyone! Don't lock yourself away! Kanan! Don't ignore me!"
No response.
Hera closed her eyes and pressed her head against the metal.
"Don't hate yourself for what happened."
Hera waited to see if he would respond, but when silence was all she heard, she walked away.
Kanan sighed when he heard Hera's footsteps move away. He wanted to answer her, but he couldn't bring himself to.
All he could feel was self-loathing.
It was an emotion that Kanan hated.
He could feel the Dark Side of the Force around him. His negative emotions were summoning it, beckoning it forward. A throaty chuckle escaped his throat.
What sort of Jedi am I, calling forth the Dark Side?
He was met with silence.