I must become stronger. More powerful. I will never let my friends get hurt again.
I will never let my friends get hurt again.
I will never let my friends get hurt again.
I will never let my friends get hurt again.
The words had become a mantra in Ezra's mind, an almost constant, all-consuming thought that had plagued him ever since Malachor.
It was why he had opened the Sith holocron in the first place. It's sinister whispers filled his mind, promising him power and control. The power to keep his friends safe, to control their fates. This was the key, he thought, the key to keeping the people he loved safe. He needed this power, this control. His friends were constantly in the line of danger, and everyday Ezra felt as though he were fighting to hold these sacred pieces of his life, his family, right where they were, with him. He remembered the heartwrenching helplessness he had felt when Kanan was captured on Lothal, when he'd discovered Kanan had been blinded, when they left Ahsoka to die at the hands of Vader, and when his parents...
Never. Never again.
It never seemed to be enough though. There was always more, more that could go wrong, and more he could learn to prevent it. He was aware of the frustration and anger bubbling inside of him, how it fuelled his actions, how he snapped sometimes, accidentally, at his friends. He wasn't angry at them, not really. They just didn't understand. How could they? How could they understand the way his mind raced and his stomach churned, that there was this constant weight bearing down on his chest making it hard for him to breathe? And that he was tired, so tired, of carrying this burden that he never dared drop because if he did his family would get hurt and he couldn't let that happen, never again? He wasn't helpless anymore, he wasn't going to lose them, he couldn't lose them, no, no, he wouldn't lose them, never!
He'd stopped using the holocron after Kanan had taken it away from him. At first, because Kanan gave him no choice. Then, because he realised he did have a choice – the holocron, or Kanan – and of course he chose the latter. The holocron had pulled him away from his master. The very thing he was using to try and keep his family was tearing him apart from them. A source of imbalance, Bendu had called it, between him and Kanan. That wasn't what Ezra wanted at all. In fact, quite the opposite. Despite the biting words he'd shouted at Kanan in misplaced anger days earlier, he needed him. He really needed him.
Kanan helped him to see that what happened on Malachor wasn't his fault. Kanan didn't blame him for what happened, so Ezra needed to forgive himself. With their relationship repaired and Ezra's guilt alleviated, his desperate hunger for power and control began to ease.
But the fear still remained.
Nestled deep in the pit of his stomach, making him feel sick.
Coiled tightly around his chest, constricting every breath.
Looming inside his mind, an endless haunting whisper and flashes of horrifying images that he could not escape, not even in sleep.
Helpless. Listening to his parents' cries as they were beaten and taken by the Imperials. He couldn't cry. He couldn't scream. He couldn't call out to them, or tell them he loved them one last time, or he would be taken too.
Alone. In a cold, empty house, devoid of all the warmth and love it once held. Tears streaming down his face as he cried and cried, sinking to his knees, the pain of his heart being torn apart too much for his small body to bear. His reality shattered in an instant as the people he loved were cruelly torn away from him. A small boy, alone in the vast galaxy.
Helpless. His friends, his family. Captured, tortured, their screams echoing through the halls of the Ghost. A cold, dark chill permeating the ship. The screams and shouts growing louder and more desperate as he sought to find them, running frantically from one room to the other.
I'm coming, just hold on. I'm coming! Please!
The screams stopped.
He found them, too late.
Alone. In a cold, empty ship, devoid of all the warmth and love it once held. Tears streaming down his face as he cried, sobbed, screamed, begged them to come back, sinking to his knees, his heart tearing in two. This couldn't be happening. Not again. His reality shattered in an instant as the people he loved were ripped away from him. Gone. They were gone. He couldn't breathe. It was too much. The grief, the agonising pain, spreading through his chest, clawing at his mind, tearing through his body, was all too much. A boy, alone, again, in the vast, cold, endless galaxy.
Ezra woke in a panic, gasping frantically for air, the fear choking him, leaving his sobs and screams caught in his throat. He flailed for a moment, trying desperately to catch his breath. His heart hammered wildly in his aching chest and his stomach churned. Sweat soaked his sleep-shirt, sticking it to his skin, and his face was drenched with the tears still pouring from his eyes.
Closing his eyes, he reached out desperately through the Force, grasping to feel the presence of his friends on-board. One by one, he became aware of them, each presence, pulsing with life, safe and unharmed, sleeping peacefully, a reassurance to Ezra that they were here and okay.
Zeb.
Sabine.
Hera.
Kanan.
Kanan.
Kanan's presence beamed bright and warm, a beacon in the darkness. As Ezra reached for him through their bond, he felt his master reach back through the Force to him, like a reassuring hand taking hold of his own. The warmth of Kanan's presence encircled him like an embrace, holding him close. He felt calming waves of peace wash over him, then flow through him, gentle ripples beneath his skin, in his bloodstream, deep within his body, mind and soul. His panicked mind began to settle, and his rapid breathing and heartbeat slowed to a steady rhythm.
I'm here if you need me.
He felt the words in his mind as the embrace of warmth and calm began to slowly withdraw. They were an echo of words Kanan had spoken to him earlier. Upon noticing, or perhaps sensing, Ezra's unease that evening, Kanan had confronted him and asked if he was okay. Ezra had assured Kanan he was fine. He knew his master probably saw through the lie – he didn't need functioning physical sight to do that – but Kanan hadn't pushed the issue. He'd simply nodded and extended the same invitation, his words filled with the same mixture of heartfelt concern and respect for his padawan's privacy as they were now.
"I'm here if you need me."
Ezra exhaled shakily, closing his eyes. His desire for comfort and reassurance, to fall into the safety of his master's arms like a small child, to not be alone, was all beginning to outweigh his learned inclination to handle his problems alone.
He climbed down from his bunk carefully, so as not to make a sound and disturb Zeb, who was snoring on the bunk below. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Kanan emerging from his cabin, hair tousled from sleep, his hands brushing against the edges of the cabin doorway as he orientated himself.
Kanan turned to face Ezra, his expression soft with concern. "You okay?" he asked, taking a couple of steps towards him.
A lump formed in Ezra's throat and tears stung his eyes. He bit his lip as he fought to hold them back, but the pressure in his throat, his eyes, his chest, his heart, and his mind continued to build and grow to an unbearable intensity. Losing the battle, he shook his head. His face crumbled as an audible sob escaped from his mouth, making it impossible for him to hide his emotions from Kanan any longer. His master began to move towards him, but Ezra reached him first. He threw his arms around Kanan, sobbing heavily, clinging to him tightly as all his emotions burst forth at once, crashing through their shared bond like a powerful ocean wave. He felt Kanan's arms wrap around him, holding him close and steady, one hand resting on the back of his head.
"Kanan," Ezra sobbed, his face buried in the now damp fabric of his master's sleep shirt.
"Hey, it's okay," Kanan soothed, concern and comfort bleeding through from his end of their bond as he held his trembling padawan in his arms. "I'm here. It's okay."
The glow of Atollon's moon cast a dim light over the planet's arid landscape. All was quiet and still, a stark contrast to Ezra's mind as he and Kanan sat in the cockpit of the Ghost, staring out the viewport.
A small amount of the pressure inside of him had released. He was no longer sobbing, but his hands still trembled. The fear still churned inside his stomach, and there still sat a heavy weight bearing down on his chest.
"I'm sorry I woke you up," he mumbled to Kanan, breaking the silence.
"It's okay," Kanan assured him. "You can always come to me when something's bothering you."
Ezra nodded. Feeling a few tears slide down his cheek, he wiped them away with the back of his hand.
"Was it a nightmare?" Kanan asked.
He nodded again. "But... it's more than that."
Kanan frowned. "What do you mean?"
Ezra stared at the cockpit floor, wringing his hands. "I feel it all the time lately."
"What do you feel?" Kanan asked.
Ezra hesitated for a moment, the tightness in his throat returning. "Afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
Ezra swallowed, trying to force the growing lump in his throat away. He took a deep breath, then exhaled heavily. "I don't want any of you guys, anyone else that I love and care about, to get hurt or... worse," he said, his voice breaking painfully. "I don't want to lose any of you."
"Ezra –"
"I know, I know, Jedi aren't supposed to feel that way. We're supposed to 'let go of fear', or whatever. Well, I can't, okay? I can't!" Ezra exclaimed, tears streaming down his face. "I've been in that situation before, Kanan. I've lost the people I loved more than anything in this stupid galaxy and I don't want to go through that pain again. I can't! I won't!" He paused for a moment, catching his breath. He looked at Kanan, at the man's now unseeing eyes, framed by scars, an unforgettable reminder of how close he had come to losing his master, the man who cared for him and guided him like a father. An ache pulsed in his chest. "I've finally got a family again, Kanan. I have people I love and who love me, and I can't lose any of you. I can't."
"Ezra–"
"I'm sorry, okay?" He sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm never going to be the Jedi you want me to be. I'm afraid! I have fear. I can't just 'let it go'. I can't just make it go away!" He turned his head away from Kanan and wrapped his arms around his middle.
Kanan placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Being a Jedi doesn't mean you have no feelings, Ezra," he said. "And letting go of fear doesn't mean the fear magically goes away. It means we don't let it consume us."
"Well, I feel pretty consumed by it right now," Ezra mumbled in reply.
An empathetic expression of pain formed on Kanan's face, one of a master whose own heart ached at the realisation of what his padawan was going through, and had been going through alone, up until this moment. "How long have you been feeling like this?" he asked, genuine concern bleeding through both in his words and through the Force.
Ezra shifted to rest his forearms on his knees. "Since Malachor," he said. "It's why I started using the Sith holocron in the first place. I thought the power and control it promised could be the key to keeping everyone safe. I know you helped me to see that what happened on Malachor wasn't my fault, but it didn't take away my fear. I know using the holocron was stupid and dangerous, and that it wasn't really helping me, but at least then I felt like I had some power and control over the situation, even if it never felt like enough. Now, I just feel helpless. And afraid."
"Ezra, I'm sorry," said Kanan, his voice tight with emotion as if he too were on the verge of tears, "I didn't realise..." He sighed. "That's a heavy burden to be carrying on your own. But now, you don't have to anymore."
"Kanan," said Ezra, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Look, I'm not in the mood for a lesson or a lecture on letting go, okay? Not right now. I'm just..." He shook his head. "I'm tired, okay? I'm tired." He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. "I'm so tired."
Kanan rested a hand on his back. "I'm not going to give you a lecture, Ezra. Or a lesson. That's not what I meant," he said. "What I meant was, carrying that burden on your own must be exhausting, but you don't have to carry it alone anymore."
Ezra lifted his head.
"Talking about this kind of stuff is good," Kanan explained. "It helps to get some of those feelings off your chest, worries out of your mind, or even just to remind yourself that you're not alone, that you have someone you can go to when it all gets too much to bear on your own. If there's one thing I've learned recently, it's that isolating yourself when you're dealing with difficult emotions doesn't really help." He slid his hand from the middle of Ezra's back to rest it on the boy's shoulder. "I want you to know you can talk to me about how you're feeling and not have to hold back because you think I won't understand, or that I'm just going to give you a lesson or lecture." He sighed. "I wasn't there for you as much as I should have been after Malachor. I left you to deal with too much on your own, and I'm sorry."
"Kanan, it's okay," said Ezra. "You had your own problems to deal with."
"I know," said Kanan. "I had a lot of fear myself. And anger. And grief. But now, I've reached a place where I'm okay. So, it's time for me to help you. When I agreed to be your master, I didn't just make a promise to teach you – I made a promise to support you and care about you, and that's what I'm going to do."
Ezra felt the tears return to his eyes, though his chest no longer ached with the pain of his anxiety. Rather, it swelled with a heartfelt warmth that sent a wave of emotion rippling through him.
He knew Kanan couldn't see him, not really, but his master's face was focussed on him, with a look of heartfelt affection, even in his unseeing eyes. "No one can make you let go of your fear, Ezra," Kanan said, his voice gentle with sincerity. "You're right, it's not that simple. So, in the meantime, I'm here to listen. To talk. To sit with you. To comfort you. To have a late night game of dejarik to take your mind off things. To offer guidance and advice if and when you need it or want it. Whatever it is you need. Okay?"
Teary-eyed, Ezra exhaled. He nodded, sniffling as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Okay."
"I don't want you to be dealing with this all on your own anymore," Kanan told him, emotion rising in his voice, "because just like you don't want to lose us, I don't want to lose you. None of us do. We're all here for you."
Ezra felt the tears flow from his eyes once again. Oh, how he owed the Force a great favour for bringing this family into his life, or rather pulling him into theirs. How lucky he was to have people so special, so caring, who he loved so deeply and who loved him just as much in return, people whose light shone brighter than any star, who gave him a home, a place of warmth and safety and love after all those years alone. How lucky he was to have something so special it made the thought of losing it so unbearable. What a blessing and a curse it was to love something so much he feared to lose it.
"Thanks," he mumbled, wiping his tears once more. "No more messing with Sith holocrons," he promised with a slight smile.
Kanan smiled back. "That's what I like to hear." As they both rose from their seats, he opened his arms wide, gesturing to his padawan. "Come here."
Ezra accepted the invitation gratefully, settling once again into the comfort of his master's arms. He felt so much lighter now, as though part of the heavy burden that had been weighing him down had suddenly been lifted, now with an extra pair of hands to help him carry the load, to make sure he didn't fall or get crushed by it.
"I'm proud of you," Kanan said softly, "you know that, right?"
Ezra nodded. "Mmhm."
"Good." He continued to hug Ezra, holding him close. "Someday, I hope you'll see the same strength in yourself that I see in you."
When at last they pulled apart, the lack of restful sleep suddenly hit Ezra full force. He yawned.
"You ready to go back to bed?" Kanan asked.
Ezra nodded sleepily. With Kanan's arm around his shoulders, the pair walked back to their quarters, treading lightly so as not to disturb the rest of the crew.
"Wanna bunk in my room?" Kanan asked him when they reached their cabin doors.
"I think I'll stay in mine," Ezra replied. "Thanks though."
Kanan nodded, turning to his door. Ezra moved to enter his own room too, then paused, turning back to his master.
"And Kanan?"
Kanan turned back around to face him. "Yeah?"
"Thank you," said Ezra sincerely. "For everything."
And when he said everything, he meant everything. He had so many things to thank Kanan for, his gratitude overwhelming. Some day, he would find the time and words to express it all, though he had a feeling Kanan already knew. He hoped so, anyway.
A tight-lipped smile formed on Kanan's face, and Ezra felt the same brightness and warmth of his master's presence through the Force as Kanan reached out to him. A reminder. A reassurance.
"If you need me," he said, "you know where to find me."
