Bargaining

A hand on the shoulder.

It was wrong. So very wrong.

When Sabine had left the Academy with Ketsu, they had looked forward to freedom. The two of them against the galaxy, joining other bounty hunters, maybe even taking shots at the Empire after their time at the Academy. The Black Sun. They had been like sisters, hugging, laughing, supporting each other.

Then Ketsu had left Sabine for dead.

The trust was shattered.

Between her misplaced trust in Ketsu and the woefully broken trust in the Empire, Sabine thought her trust issues were thoroughly understandable.

After Ketsu had abandoned her, left her for dead, Kanan had found her. Saved her. Brought her to the Ghost. Brought her to a new family.

One that never abandoned anyone.

Yet after two sharp betrayals, one after another, Sabine was a bit more circumspect. She stayed with her art, which had never left her. Kept to her room. Stayed alone. It was the only defense she had. Hugs were a thing of the past. She needed to keep herself separate, to have that one last barrier to keep her safe. She knew, intellectually, that she didn't need it anymore, that with this crew she was safer than possibly even with her family when she was younger.

But she still stayed alone, even as everyone burrowed deep into her heart. She just had to.

So any kind of touch was foreign at this point. A rare instance of desperation or something like that.

But now...

A hand on the shoulder.

Ezra was hiding in his bunk again, Zeb had left the base to go trounce more stormtroopers and Hera was with Commander Sato and Captain Rex discussing strategies. So when Kanan had politely knocked on her door and asked to go for a walk... How could she say no? She had set aside her sketchpad and let him put his hand on her shoulder.

"Where to?" she had asked.

"Anywhere," he'd replied. "I need to feel space around me."

So she'd lowered the ramp and headed out, taking the route she usually jogged every morning. Chopper had spotted them from where he'd been chatting with AP-5 and immediately rolled over, offering a manipulator without comment or complaint.

Just as Sabine opened her mouth to explain, Kanan interrupted.

"Thanks, Chopper," he said, bending forward to pat the astromech on the rusted top. "You're a little short for me. Walking while bending will do more damage in the long run."

Chopper stared at Kanan for a beat before his manipulators came down to his struts, looking very much like Hera when her fists came to her hips, and started yelling about idiocy of organics, and Kanan, in particular, before taking a spot beside Kanan and rolling along with them. For when Kanan's organic parts further failed him and he needed extra support, the droid muttered.

Kanan chuckled. "Thanks, Chop."

Sabine kept walking, still not used to the weight on her shoulder, and knowing that this was the way things would be from now on. Kanan needing help with things that had been so effortless before.

She needed to do something.

"Chopper does have a point," she said, turning by the command center and heading to the barracks.

"Oh does he?" Kanan was clearly smiling. Sabine didn't know how he could.

"When equipment is faulty on the ship we replace it."

"Of course."

"So why won't you look at cybernetics to replace your eyes?"

Chopper offered hearty agreement.

"I'm not healed enough to even make that kind of call, Sabine."

"But you can think about it, right?"

Kanan sighed heavily. "Sabine..."

"You could get implants that might even be better than average human eyes, read thermal scans or trace particles or air currents, whatever you want!"

"No, Sabine."

She stopped guiding and turned around to yell at him properly for this.

"What do you mean no?"

The Jedi was reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose before changing midway to rub his forehead instead. "I didn't want to talk about this yet," he sighed.

"Well clearly you're thinking of it," she shot back. "So clue us in!"

Or did he not trust them with his decision? It sounded like even Hera didn't know yet.

"Kanan, you are going to get cybernetics, right?"

"I don't think I will."

Chopper exploded with expletives and Sabine was right there with him.

"What do you mean no implants? No cybernetics? Do you want to be blind for the rest of your life? Are you- Are you holding onto some sort of hope that you'll get your vision back?"

Because even though no one had wanted her to, she saw. Ezra, on that horrible shuttle ride back, had seen Kanan's face. Hera often watched over Kanan while he slept and had seen Kanan's face. Everybody had tried to make sure that she and Zeb didn't see the damage. But she had. Sabine had needed to ask Hera a question and had opened the door as the medics had removed the bandages that Ezra had hastily put together.

Sabine woke in a cold sweat that night. And every night since. There was no way his eyes could recover. She wasn't even sure he had any eyes left.

Two hands settled on her shoulders and she looked up, realizing that she was crying. Sabine didn't want to be crying. She wanted things to go back to how they were. She kept that barrier of being alone to prevent this sort of outburst.

Kanan pulled her into a hug. "It's okay, Sabine. Let it all out."

But she was being hugged. She was already balling her eyes out. She needed distance.

Harshly, quickly, Sabine pulled away, needing some sort of defense.

And, of course, Kanan let her go. Only held out a hand that Chopper took in his manipulator. "You need to consider these options," Sabine insisted, quickly trying to wipe her tears away. "You need to consider every possibility. If you can't see, then what? If you can get cybernetics, why not? If-"

"Chopper," Kanan interrupted her, tilting his head to the old C1 unit, though his line of sight was off. "What's the easiest way to get you out of a fight?"

"What?"

But Chopper was indignant, shouting how it was impossible to knock him out of the fight, that he was far more sturdily built than any organic, that he had never failed them before-

"And how did the Seventh Sister take you out at the abandoned medical station?"

Sabine stiffened and Chopper got very rude and dismissive.

"Electro magnetic pulse," she whispered.

Kanan nodded. "Or electrical overload. At the very least, I need to be able to maneuver and move while blind. If, and it is an if, I choose to get cybernetics, I need to be prepared to go blind again. In a fight. That decision needs to be put off as a result. And if I can already move while blind..."

"Why get cybernetcis at all," Sabine finished.

"Exactly."

That was... a good point. Sabine didn't want to give Kanan that point. She just wanted him to listen to her. If he got cybernetic prosthetics, then things could go back to normal. That was what she wanted, things to go back to normal.

Still. He hadn't said no to cybernetics. Just that it was unlikely. Sabine still had time. Time to convince him. Time to get him to see things her way. She needed to plan out better arguments. Springing this on him hadn't worked.

But... if he wasn't seeking cybernetics...

"Then why?" she asked. "Why aren't you talking to anyone about what the Ghost needs? We need to start looking at modifications. Something tactile to know what button is what on the console, labeling the hatches so you know where you are-"

"Sabine," Kanan hissed. "You can't-"

"We need to do something so you can have a full and robust life that you can't now!"

There was a pained sound behind her, and Sabine whirled around to see Ezra there, wide-eyed before his face crumpled and he turned, running off.

"Ezra!" Kanan called out. "Ezra!"

Sabine's heart descended past her stomach, past her feet, down somewhere to the planet's core. Ezra already felt bad enough, he didn't need her making him feel worse.

Kanan let out a long and heavy sigh. "I'll talk to him later."

"I should go and-"

"Finish taking me for a walk," Kanan said firmly. "Finish what you started, no matter how uncomfortable. Then talk to Ezra."

"But Kanan, I need to-"

"Sabine." Both hands were on her shoulders again. "You can't do this for me. You can't make me or Ezra hurry back to normal. Normal is gone. It won't and can't come back. Because normal is ever evolving. Normal changed when you came aboard, when Ezra came aboard, when I came out as a Jedi. Normal is what we define a routine as. But routines change. Evolve. We'll find our new normal."

"Then we need to get started now!" Sabine shouted back. "Before our new 'normal' routines settle in. We need to start setting up how things will be."

"Not right now," Kanan said firmly.

Chopper gave an irritated whump, but Sabine felt cut to the heart and she quickly stepped out of his reach again.

"Kanan!" she growled back. "I was a top level student at the Academy. I'll know what to do in no time! I can start researching accommodations now! We can implement as soon as this afternoon! We can-"

"Sabine!" Kanan shouted. Actually shouted at her. He never yelled at her. She knew the boundaries and never breached them – only ever pushed. Part of that was because she kept to her art, so she didn't get into trouble the way Zeb or Ezra might. But put explosives in front of her and her experiments had been known to paint wide swaths of land. Both Kanan and Hera were always a mix of exasperated and annoyed. But always, they kept their heads about them, even in the heat of battle, fighting for their lives, there was never directed anger at the team. Irritation, sure; stress, often; but never anger. Even when Hera had been injured, Sabine's blood boiling and determined to kill Fen Rau and make him pay, even then, Kanan kept his cool and kept her in line, telling her out right that he trusted her.

And for Sabine, trust was everything. Now he was angry, now he wasn't listening to her, now he was not trying to help himself.

"What is your problem?" she demanded. "Why won't you let me help you? Why don't you trust me to look these things up? Why don't you let me help you? Why don't you trust me?"

"Because I'm not ready!" Kanan shouted, voice echoing over the structured coral, bouncing off the hills. Sabine startled, Chopper backed up and even Kanan seemed surprised by the volume of his voice.

"Stars," he cursed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose and changing his mind partway, rubbing his forehead. "Sabine," he tried again, and he sounded so tired. "I'm not ready. I need to adjust at my own pace. Not yours, not Zeb's, not Ezra's, but my own pace."

"But we can help!"

"And you are. You're pushing me to think about things I don't want to, but you keep pushing even beyond that. Too far, too fast. I feel like I'm spinning and spinning and I don't know where to go because I'm surrounded by too much. Do I go for cybernetics? How much would that cost? Do we refit the Ghost? How much will that cost? Can I use the Force instead? How? I know the basics from a lesson unrelated to blindness, but I'm out of practice and I don't have the depth of knowledge. Is there something else I'm not considering? How about my usefulness to the rebellion? It's going to take time, no matter what method I use, so what good am I?"

"Kanan," Sabine scratched at her eyes, trying to rub away her tears.

"You're not me, Sabine. And I'm not you. I'm not a kid who bounces back from everything quickly because of a lack of life experience and resiliency. I'm a grown man who's survived being hunted for almost twenty years. I've been beaten down more times by just existing than you have. You can't live my life for me. You can't make me adjusted. You can't do this for me. And I know that's frustrating and maddening, but you have to let me do this at my pace."

That hurt. That really hurt. Kanan never referred to their age gap like that. Ezra was the only one he ever called "kid" so openly. She liked to think it was proof of how much he trusted her. How much she was an equal to the parents of the crew. But he was right, and that hurt even more. She couldn't do this for him. He had to get through this at his own pace and she couldn't rush it. And because he was right, he was proving his point. She really was just a kid. She should have known better.

Kanan reached out a hand.

Sabine rubbed at her eyes again, swallowed the lump in her throat, and stepped forward, turning, so she could put his hand on her shoulder.

She had promised him a walk. And she would deliver. But just because Kanan needed to work through this at his own pace didn't mean she couldn't do what she could to help him along. At the very least, while he was still considering things, she could start looking up modifications and see what she could do to try and make things easier for him.

He could go at his own pace. But she would just have everything ready for him when he got there. From cybernetics to anything else he needed.

Immediately, the Sentinel helmet came to mind. Kanan was often fingering it, and it was obvious that he was worried about his lack of vision. Maybe she could do something with that ancient helmet. Modify it to something more comfortable. It was essentially a blank canvas anyway.

Ideas started to gather in her head, particularly of the design on Rex's helmet, and Sabine started to plan. Crafting may not be her forte, but she'd make something comfortable for Kanan. Until he could decided between cybernetics or modifications or whatever else he needed.


Author's Notes: This chapter is the weakest of the bunch by far. Bargaining is a hard phase to pin down, and the two of us haven't seemed to even touch it through our own current grieving process. Our mother by contrast is spending a lot of time in bargaining, replying That Night over and over wondering "If I had done this" or "If I had done that." Bargaining, in computer science terms, is a long series of if-then statements. If I do thing one thing then I keep the memory alive, If we can get this right then they will smile down on us. This plays a little different because Kanan isn't dead, but the loss of his sight - in a science fiction galaxy - presents a different series of if-then statements. Ergo, the conversation about cybernetics.

Sabine, rather than being a perfect choice, was the only choice left after the other stages of grief had been assigned. She suffers not only from being a less than perfect fit but also by being the least developed character in the series so far. Even Kallus has more development than her (Season 3, we have high hopes for what we saw in the trailer...). We can't touch on her backstory because the juiciest parts of it haven't been revealed yet, so relating to her is hard.

The result is this chapter is a solid Meh. It functions for what it is but it could have been so much more.

Next chapter: Depression with a hint of acceptance.