I do not own Star Wars in any capacity.

Enjoy chapter 9!

A part of Kanan knew he should go speak with Hera about what to do next. But he couldn't bring himself to leave Ezra in this state.

Not that he had any clue as to what else to do. Kanan might understand what Ezra was going through, but Kanan hadn't been alone all those years ago. He had had Nara by his side. They might have been alone, but they had still been together. They had kept each other sane in the aftermath of their escape.

But Ezra's relationship with his daiima was twisted and warped. They were both petrified of affection, no doubt having had it beaten out of them. Kanan and Nara's tether might have been ripped apart, but they had always had the knowledge that they were still part of one another.

Ezra and his daiima were separated not only by their trauma but by their lack of education. Neither understood what it meant to be jemma and daiima. And that wasn't going to change unless Kanan and Nara took the time to teach it to them. But given the circumstances… where did they even start?

[We start with her] Nara said, looking down at the trembling lothcat. She was tucked in tightly against Nara's chest, buried in her fur. All things considered, the little daiima seemed to be adjusting much more easily than Ezra. At least, she was certainly warming up to Nara.

Kanan glanced at Ezra. He was still curled up, his half-lidded eyes barely visible beneath his mop of hair. He was catatonic. Between the disastrous attempt to deactivate the beacon and the revelation that his daiima had told them his birth name… he had shut down.

Kanan tried to remember what had pulled him out of his… haze… while he had been on Denova, but it was difficult. His memory of that time was fuzzy, the days all blurring together. He and Nara weren't even certain how long they had been there. They had just gone through the motions of surviving while Kanan recovered from his injury. They might have stayed on that planet forever if it wasn't for Kanan's desperate need to be near other people. The isolation had been necessary for them to recover, but eventually Kanan couldn't take the loneliness any longer. It might have been safer to stay, but…

But right now, the unfortunate fact was that they didn't have the privilege to just hide on some remote planet. Particularly not with that karking beacon still active. They couldn't risk the Inquisitorious getting their hands on Ezra and his daiima again. It would destroy them.

Nara was right. Ezra's daiima was much more willing to accept what Kanan and Nara had to offer. In a strange way, perhaps being treated like an afterthought, like a being of little consequence, had kept her less susceptible to their brainwashing.

Kanan growled, his chest constricting. Maybe Nara was simply better at connecting to her. Even with their bond, Kanan didn't seem to be doing Ezra any good…

[Stop it] Nara scolded. [You can't do him any good if you start spiralling.]

Kanan sighed. Once again, she was right. But knowing that didn't give him any insight on how to even begin to help the kid.

There was a knock on the cargo bay door, and Kanan briefly reached out to confirm that it was Hera. He glanced at Nara.

[Go] she said. [I'll keep an eye on them both.]

Kanan gave a curt nod before getting up to walk out. It wasn't like he was doing Ezra any good just sitting there anyway. And he really did need to talk to Hera.

He stepped out and the door closed behind him. Hera was holding a couple containers of fresh food, some form of curry. Her eyes were narrowed slightly in sympathy. "How is he?" she asked softly.

Kanan gave a humorless chuckle. "He's completely shut down and catatonic on his cot," he said dryly.

Hera cringed. "You know, Sabine feels awful…"

"It wasn't her fault," Kanan said, his tone softening slightly. "She obviously didn't know what was going to happen. Besides, it wasn't just that. I think the bigger contributing factor was finding out his daiima had told us his name."

"Oh." Hera gave a slight frown. "And that is…?"

"Ezra." It occurred to Kanan that he should have told Hera earlier, but that time had passed. Besides, it would have only increased the chance of accidentally revealing that Ezra's daiima had spoken to them behind his back.

"I take it he didn't react well?" Hera asked hesitantly.

Kanan shook his head. "He viewed it as a betrayal. He… He hit her. Nara knocked him back to stop him… It all just devolved from there." He pressed his lips together. "No one's physically hurt, so I suppose that's something."

Hera nodded slowly. "I suppose…" She thrust her hands forward. "Here's dinner. Sabine made her version of a Mandalorian stir fry with the ingredients we had."

Kanan gave a small smile. "Tell her it's delicious."

"You haven't tried it…" Hera gave a knowing smile. "... but I will."

Kanan's smile widened. "I don't think Ezra is in the mood to eat, but I know I'll appreciate it." He sighed and looked back at the cargo bay door.

"Kanan…"

He looked back at her and found that she was also looking at the door contemplatively. "What is it?"

She pressed her lips together, her brow knitted together slightly in thought. "Did you… Were you and Nara ever like them?"

Kanan shifted, his hands tightening on the container. "You mean did I ever treat Nara as just a tool?" he clarified, choking on the last word.

Hera slumped slightly. "I know you don't like talking about your past. But if you're going to help him… you're going to have to process what happened to you as well."

Kanan closed his eyes and shifted so he was facing away from Hera. She wasn't necessarily wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to even consciously acknowledge anything before Denova. It would send him spiralling into a dark cold hole, and then he would definitely be of no use to Ezra.

"Maybe not right now," Hera added quickly. "But you and Nara understand what Ezra and his daiima are going through better than anyone. If you want to get them through this, to recover from what the Empire put them through… You need to pull yourself through your own trauma. You and Nara both."

"I have pulled myself through," Kanan said exasperatedly. "We survived, we kept ourselves from falling…"

"Surviving isn't the same thing as recovering, and you know it," Hera said sternly. "Ezra has survived what the Inquisitorious has done to him. But that's not enough. Ezra, his daiima, you and Nara… you all deserve to live without the shadow of the Empire haunting you."

"This Empire didn't do this to me," he practically snarled as he shot Hera a glare. Then he gave a bitter chuckle. "In fact, in a way, the Empire saved us!" He probably would have gone on, but Hera had taken a small step back, and while she remained outwardly calm, Kanan could sense a hint of her fear.

So with a shaky sigh, Kanan looked away again, suddenly very aware that his breathing was harsh and his limbs were shaking. "The answer is no," he ground out. "I never treated Nara as just a tool. Even when I couldn't…" He touched the side of his head, echoes of icy hot pain pulsating from the site. "No," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hera nodded slowly. "Well, it seems like the first thing you need to do is help Ezra reconnect with his daiima. Maybe even learn her name."

Kanan gave a small smile. "Yeah. Sounds like a plan. You know, after we get his damned collar off of him."

"Actually, about that… I might have an alternative solution."

Kanan raised an eyebrow. "Really? Just like that?"

Hera sighed. "I put out some feelers the day we left Lothal about our situation. Vizago got back to me a little while ago with a possible lead."

Kanan gave her a skeptical look. "Vizago? Really?"

"I called in that favor he owes us," Hera said with a small smirk. "Don't worry. All I told him was that we have some Imperial tech with a locator beacon that we needed to have disabled. Apparently he has a go-to professional locksmith who specializes in old Republic and Imperial tech."

"And what do we know about this locksmith?"

"Her name is Nova Kaadak. She lives on Nar Shaddaa. Vizago sends his lackeys there if he ever has something he needs opened, like particularly secure crates."

"And what reason do we have to think she can get that collar off of Ezra?"

"Don't worry, I'm not taking Vizago's word on just faith," Hera said. "I'm going to do a little more digging. If she's as good as he's claiming, she'll have a reputation."

"Okay…" Kanan sighed. "I just want to avoid having another incident like earlier."

"Of course," Hera said softly.

Kanan turned back to the cargo bay door. "I don't want to leave him alone any longer." He raised the container of Sabine's stir fry. "Thanks for the food."

Hera smiled, putting a hand on his arm and giving it a little squeeze. "Comm me if you need anything else."

Kanan smiled back. "I will," he promised.

Walking back into the cargo bay, he saw that Ezra and his daiima were finally asleep. Ezra's body was relaxed and limp on the cot, the daiima curled up between Nara's front legs against his chest.

[Maybe I should have left earlier...] Kanan thought wistfully. Nara gave a little growl of disapproval, and Kanan waved her off. [I was mostly joking...]

She huffed. [What did Hera have to say?]

Kanan quietly walked over to her, nestling up against her side before he pulled open the container of food. He gave a small smile at the smell. [She thinks she might have a lead on a lockbreaker. It's no one we've heard of before, so she wants to do a little digging first.]

Nara twisted her head so she could gently nudge his arm with her nose. Kanan sighed and put a hand on her muzzle. As good as Sabine's cooking smelled, he wasn't really in the mood to eat.

[You should get some rest] Nara said. [You're gonna wanna be refreshed when Ezra wakes again.]

[Yeah, you're right…] Replacing the lid, he set the container to the side. He just wasn't hungry right now. He shifted so he could curl up against Nara. His face buried in her fur, he looked up one more time to glance at Ezra's still form.

More and more, Kanan was warming to the idea of retreating to Denova after they dealt with that collar. An isolated but relatively abundant planet, far away from civilization and still in neutral space… Ezra and his daiima could learn to heal without having to constantly look over their shoulders.

With thoughts of this hypothetical future dancing around his head, Kanan closed his eyes and slowly drifted to sleep.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, little lothkitten?" she replied as she tucked Ezra in.

"How come my heart hurts sometimes?"

His mother froze for a moment. Then she gave a soft sigh and sat next to him on the bed. "When does your heart hurt?"

"When I'm by myself, and I walk up to the door or windows…" He placed a hand over the center of his chest. "My heart starts to hurt."

She bit her lip as she listened to him. "Well, it's why we teach you from home. And it's not always. Did your heart hurt when we went out to the park the other day?"

"No…" Ezra admitted. "Well, not all the time. But sometimes I go too far away and my heart hurts again."

"Well, that's why you need to stay close to us," his mother said softly, running a hand over his hair.

"But other kids don't have to…" Ezra whined. They all seemed to run around freely, playing in the streets, going to school, even going to parks by themselves.

"I know it's not fair, sweetie," she replied sympathetically. "But… I promise that someday, it'll get better. When the Empire is gone and we're free to live our lives… Things will be better."

Awareness came slowly to Thirteen. He was nestled on the cot, a warm blanket wrapped over his body. It was still disorienting to wake up like this, but today it was overshadowed by the hollowed out void in his mind.

"You were asleep for a while."

Thirteen looked up and saw the Jedi and his Asset sitting on their usual platform of blankets. And curled up between the wolf's forelegs was his own Asset, gazing at him with large eyes.

Thirteen quickly looked away, sitting up and wrapping his arms around himself. His mind was swimming, although there was nothing consciously coherent. All he knew was that he was alone. He couldn't kill the Jedi. There was no way he could go back to Nur. As soon as his master realized this treachery, it would be the end of both of them in the worst possible way. His only recourse… was this Jedi.

He shakily got up, pushing the blanket aside.

"Kid?"

Thirteen kept his gaze downward, ignoring the prickly foreign emotion that was pushing against his mind. He stepped up to where the others were sitting. He only glanced up for a moment at his Asset before quickly looking back down. It made his chest ache to see her with them… having completely abandoned him.

He stopped just a couple meters from the Jedi and slid down onto his knees, bending over and pressing his forehead to the floor. With no other options or paths forward, he would surrender his will to this Jedi.

"Okay…" There was a pair of hands on Thirteen's shoulders, making him stiffen. But all that happened was Thirteen was slowly pushed so his back was straight, and he was looking up at Kanan. "First things first: you never need to kneel to me. You don't need to kneel to anyone. Not anymore."

Thirteen gave a small shake of his head. This was all he could do. "I… I can't go back…" he rasped, his body trembling.

Kanan's shoulders slumped slightly, his eyes slanted in sympathy. "Do you want to?" he asked softly. "Did you ever want to?"

The immediate and obvious answer was no. Thirteen had done everything in his power to get out of Nur, to get away from his master. All his efforts these last few days had been for the explicit purpose of making sure he wouldn't have to be forced back into his master's clutches.

But now with the knowledge that he had utterly failed - and on his first mission as well - he found that having no certain future was so much worse.

The sound of a hand smacking flesh had fear shooting through Thirteen, all the muscles in his back stiffening.

"Sorry, sorry…" Kanan said quickly. Thirteen looked up and saw him shaking his hand out. "It's just a tic I have."

Thirteen frowned slightly. He didn't know what that meant, but the Jedi didn't seem angry. And Kanan did seem to hit himself a lot for no good reason.

Kanan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "C'mon…"

He pulled Thirteen up to his feet and led him back over to his cot. Once he was sitting down on it again, the Jedi knelt in front of him. Thirteen almost rolled his eyes at the irony.

"Your name really is Ezra… right?"

The question hit Thirteen like a jako beast running at him at full speed. His gaze went unfocused for a moment as he clenched his fists against his thighs.

"No! You can't! Ezra! EZRA!"

"I… I'm…" Thirteen squeezed his eyes shut. Hearing that name being spoken aloud made his chest tighten painfully. "I am… Eye See Thirteen…" he whispered. It was hollow in his ears, but the response was so deeply ingrained he didn't know how else to reply.

"No, you're not," Kanan said softly. "It's not what your family called you, is it? They called you Ezra."

Thirteen swallowed and looked away, his eyes burning. He dug his fingers into his legs, the fabric of his gloves squeaking against his pants.

"The Inquisitors hurt you." It was a statement, not a question. "They hurt you when you used your name, when you didn't do what they wanted… But that's not going to happen here."

None of this meant anything to Thirteen. Kanan was just listing facts that he already knew. He had been stripped down and crushed then forged into a weapon for the Empire.

"Ezra…" Kanan placed his hands over Thirteen's. Thirteen blinked at the pressure, staring down. Kanan slowly wrapped his fingers around his hands, pulling them from Thirteen's thighs and holding them firmly.

Thirteen couldn't even breathe as he watched the action. His hands and arms were shaking uncontrollably. He had no idea what was happening right now.

"You're more than what the Inquisitors did to you," Kanan said quietly. "I don't need the Force to know that. You just need… time." He glanced back behind his shoulder. "You both do."

Thirteen looked up and saw that his Asset had gotten up and was now standing just a meter away from them. He felt her hesitantly reaching out to him through their bond.

Kanan sat back a little bit, giving Thirteen a clearer view of his Asset. "What do you call yourself?" he asked her.

She looked hesitantly between the two of them.

"She's an Asset," Ezra murmured flatly. "She doesn't have a name."

"No, she's not." Nara stood and walked over to them as well. Thirteen reflexively leaned back away as she got closer. Thankfully she stopped and slowly laid back down on the ground, putting her head near his Asset as she addressed her. "What did you call yourself before the Inquisitorious?"

His Asset trembled, lowering herself closer to the ground and pulling her ears back. She gave a small shake of the head.

"It's alright," Kanan said gently. "You're not going to get in any trouble."

Thirteen frowned at the way they were speaking to her. It wasn't just the attitude. He already knew that the Jedi treated their Assets differently, but the questions didn't make any sense either. Before the Inquisitorious… she was just a voice in his head, the only real friend he had ever had.

His Asset slowly backed away from all three of them in panic and confusion. She didn't understand the questions either.

"Little one…?" Nara questioned, inching a bit closer to her.

"What did you call her?" Kanan asked Thirteen.

"I didn't call her anything," Thirteen said. "I didn't know she existed."

A surge of confusion and horror rose in the Force, and Thirteen realized it had come from both the Jedi and his Asset. "You… you didn't know she existed…" Kanan echoed, gazing at him in disbelief.

Thirteen shrank into himself slightly. He gave a light tap on the side of his head. "Sh-She was just a voice. My conscience."

Kanan looked between Thirteen and his Asset incredulously. "How old were you when the Empire found you?"

Thirteen quickly shook his head. He couldn't think back. Not about any actual memories. His master would see, then she would rip into his mind and shred the memory to pieces.

Ezra was huddled underneath his bed, shaking uncontrollably as he listened to the shouting troopers. There was the sound of furniture being knocked over and loud stomping of boots. Ezra had his hands pressed tightly to his mouth, trying to muffle his crying.

The door to his bedroom was slammed open and light streamed in. Ezra couldn't help the gasp of terror as he scrambled away from the light, pressing his back to the far corner under the bed. White boots marched in, and Ezra squeezed his eyes shut as he prayed for the stormtroopers to just go away…

"Ezra."

Thirteen opened his eyes, seeing Kanan right in front of him again. He was aware again of Kanan's hands holding his. The warmth of his hands was even starting to leak through Thirteen's gloves.

"I… I don't remember," he mumbled.

Kanan frowned slightly, and Thirteen got the impression that he knew that it was a lie. But instead of smacking him for his insolence, Kanan just gave his hands a squeeze. "Alright," he said softly. "Well, she deserves a name…"

"Do you have any ideas?" Nara asked his Asset. Nara nudged her nose gently against her, and while she didn't verbally reply, she did rub her face up against Nara's muzzle in response.

Thirteen's chest tightened painfully at the sight. He pointedly looked away, ignoring the burn in his eyes. He was silently grateful for Kanan's grip on his hands. He didn't feel quite so alone and disconnected.

Kanan's hand twitched as he gazed up at Thirteen. "You've never tried to come up with a name?"

Thirteen shrugged. "She's my Asset…"

Kanan sighed, sitting back slightly. "She is not your Asset. She is your daiima. A part of your soul."

Thirteen didn't react. They keep saying this. And sure, while she felt like a part of him in every part of his life, treating her like anything but a weapon had always resulted with both of them suffering for it.

"But as I said… I know it's just going to take time." Kanan gave a shockingly relaxed smile. "But do you know what we should do now? Eat a solid meal." He got up and walked over to the refrigeration unit and pulled out a container. "Hera brought us some freshly made food."

Thirteen just swallowed and nodded, tucking his hands in his lap, scolding himself for missing the warmth of Kanan's grip.

As the Jedi prepared said food, Thirteen's Asset slowly walked toward him. He kept his gaze firmly in his lap, his hands clenched together tightly. Her presence was humming in his head. [Ezra...]

"Stop," Thirteen whispered. He couldn't take it. Not right now. His mind was completely shredded and raw, and having forbidden thoughts forced upon him was like dragging him over hot coals.

A plate filled with mixed vegetables in a brown sauce was suddenly thrust into Thirteen's view. He blinked and wordlessly took it. He still wasn't used to these regular meals. The flavor was usually overwhelming, but he wasn't about to complain about freely given food. Although right now, his stomach was tied in knots. It was empty and brief waves of nausea were washing over him, but the idea of putting anything into his belly made the nausea even worse.

"Eat," Kanan said, sitting down next to Nara. "You barely ate anything yesterday."

"Funny how being electrocuted can kill your appetite," Thirteen said dryly, poking at one of the soft veggies on his plate.

There was another spike of regret. "Right…" Kanan said quietly. "Kid, about what happened… we screwed up. Badly. We were in a rush to deactivate the beacon and didn't do our due diligence. You suffered for it, and it shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry."

And with that, Thirteen instantly regretted saying anything at all. Kanan's earnest guilt was bouncing around his head and giving him vertigo.

He was going to throw up.

The plate tossed to the side, and Thirteen ran to the refresher. There was some shouting, but it was nothing but incoherent gibberish as he slammed the door behind him. His ears were filled with sounds of strained high-pitched breathing, his vision blurring to the point where there was nothing but a grey static.

He collapsed to his knees and retched, sour bile being forced up over the roof of his mouth and dribbling out. Coughing and gasping, he retched again, trying to force out the horrible feeling of caustic anxiety churning in his stomach. The strength of his retching made a couple tears roll down his face.

Eventually he sagged against the toilet, panting harshly. He didn't feel any better. His stomach was still churning painfully. There was a painful pressure behind his eyes but he would not cry. He had to grasp for any bits of control he had left.

There was a knock on the door. "Ezra? Ezra, are you okay?"

"Stop calling me that!" Thirteen barked. He tried to glare angrily at the door. "That's not my name!"

There was a beat of silence, and for a moment Thirteen thought he might have imagined the Jedi's voice. Then he heard a sigh. "Yes it is…" Kanan said. "But I'll stop using it if you really want me to… Thirteen."

Thirteen physically cringed at that, his stomach painfully rolling again. He wasn't sure why. It was who he was, right? He was Eye See Thirteen. He was… a weapon…

But he wasn't. He couldn't be. Not when he couldn't even accomplish the base aspects of his mandate. He really was just nothing.

"Thirteen?" Kanan knocked on the door again. "Is everything okay?"

A spike of pain shot through his chest at the sound of that name. His name.

No, it wasn't. He's already established that he's a failed Inquisitor. He had no hope, no future with the Inquisitorious after his disastrous failure.

What… What was he?

"Thirteen…?"

"STOP IT!" he screamed. "Just stop it!" He was having trouble drawing breath but he had to speak. This coiled up energy in his chest had to be yanked out of him and thrown out into the universe. "That's not who I am! Not anymore! I am… just… NOTHING! "

And that was the real truth. It wasn't just a feeling. It was a simple fact.

He hadn't thought it was possible for him to break apart any further, but what little of his self that was left simply melted and evaporated away. His body collapsed to the ground as his will drained out of him. His skin was boiling hot as he gasped for air, heaving sobs wracking his body. He accepted what he really was, the yawning void in his mind expanding and scraping up against the inside of his husk.

Something grabbed him by the arms and pulled him from the ground. He couldn't bring himself to care. His body was boneless as he was manipulated and pressed up against something warm. He continued to cough and gasp as the uncontrollable bawling ripped through him, but…

"Hey, hey, shh…" a voice said softly. "You're not alone…"

The warm wall rumbled pleasantly with the words. Something was wrapped tightly around his body, along with a steady pressure against the side of his head. It wasn't a painful or punishing grip. In fact, it was oddly calming. And it was paired with a sweet earthy scent that had just a whisper of musk. Slowly, he found his sobs fading into panting hiccups. He blinked slowly, realizing his body was being rocked.

"Yeah, see?" the voice continued, just as soft. "You're safe…"

A buzz on the inside of his skull swelled, and an ingrained instinct had his breathing shudder in anticipation of raking pain. But the pain never came. The buzz practically glowed inside of him, filling out his hollow shell. It was… soothing? For some reason, it made his tears stream down his face again in earnest. He couldn't remember ever feeling like this.

"That's it, just let it out… I promise, things will get better after this…"

He wasn't sure how the voice could be so certain of that, but it was enough to have him relaxing into the warm earthy cocoon as he allowed himself to cry freely and fully accept what he really was… nothing.

By the way, I'm working on finishing 50k words over November and December. I'm posting my progress on tumblr (of the same name) along with daily snippets if you're interested in following.

What do you think? Write a review and let me know.