Ezra rapped his knuckles against the door, the fabric of his gloves stifling the sound. No answer. Had she fallen back asleep? It was stupid of him to ask if he could come over so early. He'd probably annoyed her.

The phone in his pocket vibrated for what felt like the hundredth time today.

Force, you'd think Kanan would take the hint. He'd already let him know he hadn't been kidnapped. The man had been practically nonexistent this entire week and now he wanted to talk?

Ezra raised his hand to knock again, but the door opened before he could.

"Hey, sorry, was on the phone with my dad," Sabine said. Her gaze immediately darted to his hair. Kriff, if Ezra wasn't self-conscious about it before, he certainly was now. He could see the question start to form in her eyes, but it vanished with her grin. "Come in."

"Sorry to bother you," he said sheepishly, stepping inside her dorm.

"You're not, I promise." She closed the door behind him. "So, what's up?"

He didn't answer. Overwhelmed wasn't strong enough of a word. Every inch of wall was coated with color. Bursts of purple, yellow, and orange were most common, but the entire room resembled the aftermath of a rainbow throwing up. His mouth hung open as he took it all in.

Sabine laughed at his reaction. "We got tired of the tan."

"You're allowed to paint the walls?"

"Technically…no," she replied. "But as long as we repaint at the end of the year, they'll never know.

Ezra traced a brushstroke of a multicolored owl. "I really like this. You're amazing."

"Thanks," Sabine said, smiling. It lit up her face, creating crinkles in the corners of her eyes that Ezra found rather appealing.

Her expression turned questioning and Ezra knew his gawking had not gone unnoticed. He coughed. "Uh, so where's your roommate?"

"Home for the weekend." She sat on the edge of one of the beds, gesturing for Ezra to do the same. "I'm surprised you wanted to come here. Not that I mind," she quickly amended, "just surprised."

Ezra grimaced and sat down on the bed across from her. "I overheard Kanan and Hera talking last night. I think we're leaving the city for a while."

"Oh."

Maybe it was Ezra's imagination, but he could have sworn there was disappointment in her voice. No, he was probably just hearing what he wanted to.

"Yeah, I don't know where we're going. I just kinda wanted to see you again." He suppressed a wince, hoping she hadn't picked up on the anxiety in his words.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Inquisitors. I don't really want to get into it." It didn't escape his notice that she didn't acknowledge the last part. Not that he expected her to say she also wanted to see him, but still.

She nodded, her face solemn. "Do you know how long?"

"Nope."

Sabine made a motion as if to tuck her hair behind her ears, despite it already there. "Maybe I'll be able to visit? Once the semester is over. Beats being home."

Excitement bubbled up in his stomach. The chances of Kanan and Hera agreeing to that were pretty slim. The point was to go into hiding after all. Still, he needed something positive to hold on to. Just that she wanted to see him again was enough for right now.

Kanan pinched the bridge of his nose. "This kid is going to be the death of me."

Hera set down two mugs and joined him at the table. "Hey, you wanted to take in a teenager." With the exception of a slight twitch to the corners of her mouth, she kept a straight face. Mostly. Despite her efforts, she couldn't quite conceal the sparkle in her eyes.

"Oh, really? Pretty sure that conversation went a little differently."

Hera shrugged, her smile gradually spreading. "Love, we both know you still would have done it without me."

Would he have had? Without a shadow of a doubt, now that he thought about it. Kanan didn't believe in fate, but there was no denying that there had been something about the kid. Something that made him risk his own safety. Billaba had found him when he was around Ezra's age. Maybe this was the universe's way of letting him return the favor.

Yeah and look how it had turned out. Some mentor he was.

"He hates me, doesn't he?" Kanan asked. Ezra had every right to hate him. For lying, for not protecting him.

"No," Hera answered, taking his hand. "He blames himself for what happened."

Kanan rubbed at his forehead. "Well I don't. None of it was his fault." How could it be? It was all Kanan's.

Hera pursed her lips, her face thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe tell him that? Instead of avoiding him."

"I tried. He won't talk to me."

"You tried once," she replied, disapproval leaking through in her voice. "He's a teenager who's hurting. It's not going to be easy. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and help him."

The words hit like a slap to the face. A much deserved one. The past week he'd been preoccupied with his own guilt, thinking the kid wanted distance. But Ezra was drowning. He didn't need space. He needed Kanan to step up and pull him back into the boat.

Kanan squeezed Hera's hand. "How are you always right?"

"It's a gift," she said with the the hint of a smile.

"Sorry, I just have to ask. What's with the hair?"

Ezra stiffened. "It's nothing," he mumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Did you let Kanan do it?" Sabine asked, her eyes twinkling. "I can't believe Hera—"

"I did it," he replied, harsher than he meant to. "Sorry," he added as Sabine flinched.

She blinked at him. "I can fix it, if you want."

Ezra rocked on his heels as he considered it. The haircut did look awful. But there was a flash of fingers grabbing, pulling. Cold chimes of laughter reverberated inside his skull. He leaned against the wall to steady himself, nausea rolling in his stomach.

"It'll be fast," she promised. "I just need to neaten it." She was watching him, and he knew what he must look like. A frightened rabbit on the verge of fleeing.

Force, he was being stupid. Sabine probably thought he was crazy or something. It was just hair. He couldn't go his entire life terrified of others touching it.

"Okay," he said, nodding numbly.

She slipped her arm through his and led him into the bathroom. Despite his panic, Ezra leaned into her touch, relishing in the reassurance it gave him. Her presence dulled the noise in his head. When they separated, a small pang of alarm rang through him and he had to resist the urge to pull her back.

Pull it together, Bridger. It's just a kirffin' haircut.

"Here," Sabine said, bringing her desk chair over for him to sit. She rummaged through a container on the sink and pulled out an electric razor.

Ezra raised an eyebrow. "Why do you have one of those?"

"My roommate shaves her head," she answered, turning on the razor.

Ezra felt his heart rate increase the second the buzzing started. He swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut. Sabine ran her hand over a section of his hair. Though her touch was gentle, he couldn't stop himself from trembling. He bit the inside of his cheek, hoping the pain would distract him.

It's fine, it's fine. It's not the Inquisitor, it's Sabine. He was safe.

Was he though? E.M.P.I.R.E. would keep coming after him. He couldn't run forever.

Ezra.

Eventually they'd find him. Once they did, she could do whatever she wanted to him. Make him her pet. Played with him until he broke.

Ezra?

Would there be any of him left or would he just be nothing more than an empty shell for E.M.P.I.R.E to control? A monster who reveled in inflicting pain. Torturing other terrified Wielders—

"Ezra!"

He opened his eyes, his stricken expression reflected back at him through the mirror. "Sorry," he mumbled. "You can keep going."

"I'm finished." Sabine knelt down so that her eyes were almost at the same level as his. "What's going on?"

Maybe it was the earnestness in her face or perhaps he had the desire to explain his strange behavior, but he told her. The abduction, the torment. Even attacking Kanan. It all came gushing out of him, an unstoppable flood of pent up terror and anguish. He almost even told her how the Inquisitor still lurked in his mind, but caught himself. Distraught was one thing, unhinged was another.

Sabine's expression had remained neutral the entire time he had spoken, though her jaw went rigid as he mentioned E.M.P.I.R.E.'s plan for him.

"Force, I hate them," she growled. "They destroy everything they touch."

The animosity in her tone surprised Ezra. "What—?"

She took his hand in hers. Times like these made Ezra deeply miss his sense of touch. The gloves might keep his mind safe, but they also blinded him. He couldn't feel the softness of a blanket nor the smoothness of a comic book's pages. The warmth of a girl's hand. A constant barrier between him and everyone else.

Sabine gazed up at him through long, thick lashes. Something soft flickered across her features and Ezra noticed just how close their faces were. For the first time he could see that her irises had flecks of gold, reminding him of honey. Ezra leaned in closer. After years of living on the streets and the events of the past few weeks, he was so tired of everything hurting. For once he just wanted to feel different. He wanted to feel alive. His eyes slid closed—

Sabine's hand slipped from his, leaving him cold. "You'll still be able to call, right?" she asked.

Ezra opened his eyes, twisting around in his seat. Sabine stood, her back to him. She grabbed a broom and started to sweep up the wisps of hair on the floor.

Incredible heat crept up his cheeks, stinging his ears, and he straightened up. "Um, yeah. I think so."

"Good." She took her time cleaning up the hair, her focus akin to that of a surgeon. Was he overthinking or was she purposely avoiding his eyes?

His phone vibrated again.

"I think I should go," he said. "This might actually be the last time we see each other. Pretty sure Kanan is about to murder me." He spoke lightly, infusing his words with laughter. But it sounded flat and unconvincing.

Sabine finally lifted her eyes from the floor. She smiled, but this time there was no crinkle in the corner of her eyes. "I doubt that, Bridger," she said. Embarrassment for him read clear as day on her face and he had to look away.

If she were to rip out his heart and squeeze it, he doubted it would feel worse than how he did now.

"Thanks for the haircut," Ezra said as he stood, trying to keep his voice even.

"Ezra, wait." Sabine's hand shot out as he went past, touching him on the arm.

He turned around, not quite able to meet her eyes.

"Good luck." She opened her mouth as if to say something else, only to close it. There was something in her expression he couldn't place. Regret? No, that didn't make any sense. Probably pity.

Ezra's mouth twitched in an attempt of a smile and he left without another word.