(A/N)- For my Bad Things Happen Bingo. Anon requested "Tied to a pole" with either Kanan or Ezra. Decided on Kanan to spread out the whump love just a little bit.
Enjoy!
Warnings for substance abuse/alcoholism. It's pre-New Dawn Kanan, the man had issues.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Star Wars. A shame, really.
Buzzed Warning
Someone was yelling next to him, angry-sounding, but he could barely hear over the thumping synth buzzes of the music and the pounding inside his own head as the cheap whiskey rushed through him.
"Buzz off," he muttered at whoever was shrieking in his ear. His sluggish brain caught up with what was being said, translating the furious Aqualish and catching a few vital words. "I didn't cheat." Kanan shrugged his shoulders, nursing his drink closer. "Not my fault you can't play for kark."
The pissed off sabaac player didn't take kindly to that, grabbing handfuls of Kanan's hair and coat, pulling back his head before slamming him face first into the bar.
Pain blossomed sharply through Kanan's forehead and he grunted, slipping out of the barstool as he was released, turning around, taking a swing at the offender.
Multiple forms closed in on him now, and Kanan didn't have the strength or clarity of mind to fend them all off. He groaned as one fist plowed into his diaphragm, and another fist cracked his chin.
Come on... he whined inside his own head. He hadn't drunk nearly enough to properly numb the pain. Couldn't they have waited to make trouble until he'd finished his glass at least?
Dizzy from the blows and the alcohol, Kanan barely felt the hands grabbing his arms, pulling him somewhere. He might have blacked out briefly at some point, because the next clear sensation he was aware of was crisp night air on his skin, and a sudden quieting of the overpowering music.
He was slammed up against something and his consciousness blipped out again, fading under the sharp new pain that stabbed through his aching head. There was a ringing in his ears, loud and harsh. Kanan felt like he was close to blissful oblivion.
But the ringing took on a sharper edge, a warm tingle buzzing on the tips of his ears. A warning. A sense of danger. A plea from the Force not to surrender, not to let his mind slip away.
He groaned, his face twisting as if he could physically flinch away from its touch. He hadn't reached for the Force, hadn't heard it, felt it, in years. Why was it trying to help him now?
Go away, he begged at the sensation, letting himself droop, letting the whiskey steal away his thoughts and mind, dark curtains shuttering around his head.
Still, the warning in the Force chimed all the louder, begging him to wake up. It sounded over and over inside him, poking though his body and bringing him to awareness slowly.
The pounding inside Kanan's head faded. He was irritated at first, but then his groggy, alcohol-buzzed mind started taking stock of his situation.
He was on the ground, his back pressed up against a... pipe? Support beam? Some kind of solid metal vertical object. His hands had been bound behind it with some kind of...
He twisted his hands.
Wire. Metal wire, thin and abrasive.
He groaned again. Oh great.
His surly attackers were clustered in front of him—the Aqualish, two humans, a Weequay who smelled absolutely vile. They seemed to be arguing amongst themselves. One of them had a small knife, looked like he wanted to jab it forward, into Kanan's ribs. The others were holding him back, trying to talk him down... for now.
Okay... his muddled thoughts managed, feeling the Force's warning resonate in his heart, pulling him into vague alertness. Okay, that's not good.
Kanan blinked hard, struggling to focus his eyes. The one with the knife was the Aqualish who'd first antagonized him; he didn't seem convinced by his friends' efforts not to begin sinking his blade into Kanan's flesh. Even through his drunken haze Kanan could feel the murderous intentions off him.
"Calm down would ya! We don't want the Stormtroopers to—"
The Aqualish ignored the warning, shrugging them off and charging forward.
Kanan tensed, curling his legs up reflexively, to protect his chest and stomach. The knife bit through the clothes and skin at his collar, before the man's companions managed to yank him back again.
The ex-Jedi hissed as he felt blood blossoming from the wound, soaking into his good shirt. He tugged at his bound wrists, biting his lip. Now he understood the Force's insistent warning. This wasn't the usual bar scrap. These men were drunk enough, irrational enough, to actually cause him harm.
Lifting his head, Kanan squinted, blinking hard, trying to clear his vision. The welcome warmth of the whiskey was an accursed hindrance now, muddying his thoughts and senses, leaving him confused and senseless when he needed to focus.
Kanan struggled to think for several seconds. The tussle with the Aqualish ended with him rounding on his own companions, swinging fists and slugging it out with them.
In the confusion the knife was dropped, falling close to Kanan's feet. He stared at it a long moment before shaking himself, and straining out for it. His heels could just barely reach it...
His ankles scraped and scrabbed at the dirt for several seconds before Kanan gave a huff of frustration and slumped his head back against the pole. The Force whispered again, offering itself to him, and Kanan found himself desperately clinging back, calling out frantically to the thing he had so long abandoned.
He didn't sense a change at first. But then movement stirred in the dirt, and the knife rattled, shaking, vibrating as Kanan pulled on it with a clumsy telekinetic thought. It slid slowly towards him along the ground, until with a final frantic pull launched itself into one of Kanan's hands.
He exhaled heavily, feeling exhausted. The presence of the Force dissipated, fading quickly back into the haze of numbness. Kanan couldn't feel it anymore, the edges of his mind cold and empty like it had been for so many years. The men were still squabbling and fighting amongst themselves; they didn't notice Kanan sawing carefully through the wire around his wrists.
He felt a snap. The wire came loose.
Very carefully, Kanan brought his hands forward, reached back and leaned himself on the pole or pipe or whatever it was to brace, slowly pushing himself to his feet.
The scuffle had attracted the attention of a Stormtrooper patrol, who quickly spread out through and among the brawling criminals, breaking apart the conflict.
One blurry white form stopped in front of Kanan, leaning towards him in what might almost constitute concern.
"Sir, are you okay?" came the filtered voice.
Kanan's heart darkened, his breaths drawing in more harshly. "M'fine," he mumbled, stumbling past the trooper and staggering quickly as far away from the scene as he could.
He could hear their voices behind him, firm and questioning, but he didn't stop, tilting this way and that as he slowly made his way down the street, shuffling, tripping slightly, blundering into walls.
Kanan shook his head, the pounding in his heart resolving into recognizable fear that was already retreating, slipping away as he made his way forward.
His hand brushed a wall and his awkward steps slowed for a moment, Kanan straining out with his mind for some response from the Force.
It was... oppressively silent again.
He didn't know why the bitter sting of disappointment ran through him, as he continued on his way, stumbling half-conscious towards the inn where he'd rented a room for the night was, falling into blissful, unpained numbness as he continued on, fleeing the scene of his close scrape.
There was only the ringing in his head, and nothing else.
(A/N)- Owww my heart. That hurt to write.
You can request a prompt/character over on Tumblr. See this post: h tt [#]p s: / / tari silmarwen . tu mb lr . c[#]o m / post / 673415204767465472 / im- doing- a-bad-things-happen- bingo- because (delete the spaces and the special characters in the brackets)
