Thanks to all those who reviewed, liked or followed this story. You guys are the best and, no, I'm not just saying that. As promised, here's chapter 2. As always, hope you enjoy.
2:
Then:
They've all heard the story before but it never seemed to come from Kanan. It didn't have to because they already knew.
The clone troopers had gone rogue, implementing Order 66 and destroying any and all Jedi left. Hundreds were massacred by their allies. Their Comrades. Friends.
They knew this just like they knew among the casualties there were some survivors. Some- not many- but some which is all that really mattered to them.
Caleb Dume hadn't seemed able to make it.
Kanan Jarrus had.
Now:
The next day, Ezra was declared fine by Hera. He could stay conscious longer than five minutes, at least, and had no physical indication that he was injured. Zeb knew it wasn't that easy- that the boy really wasn't fine but refused to speak up.
Not just because he didn't want to draw unneeded attention to what exactly happened but also because deep down he wanted to believe it himself. He wanted Ezra to be fine so they could go back to quarreling like children.
And he did seem okay. Perhaps fine was pushing it but he seemed like he had managed to recover for the most part.
Zeb figured he really should've known better.
They ended up on another planet, one filled with more forests than civilization. It was different from the spots they usually lay low in but Zeb figured after his and Ezra's attack Kanan was questionable about being around large groups of people at once.
The door to their room slid open, emitting the light from the hallway profiling Ezra's thin frame. Behind him, Kanan was speaking drawing Zeb's attention from his thoughts and to the door.
"Welcome back kid," he greeted trying his best to not put too much relief in his voice or face.
"Yeah," Ezra muttered, shoulders slumped as his childish features seemed to be drawn down in exhaustion but he didn't look seconds away from passing out which Zeb took as a plus.
He watched from his bed as Ezra stepped in the room, away from Kanan. He seemed unsure- confused almost- as he blinked and seemed to realize where he was at. He turned so he was back to facing Kanan.
"Just get some rest," Kanan told him, voice not really harsh but not gentle either. At least, not as gentle as he probably would've been if he knew what happened.
Then again, he would be overly cautious about everything because the dead just don't come back to life. It was a lesson Zeb knew all too well and one that was defied right in front of his eyes. He refused to let himself linger on that thought, though, because he didn't care about how Ezra was resurrected only that he had been.
"Okay," Ezra muttered, impossibly small as he slumped his shoulders and seemed to bat electric blue eyes at the both of them.
They seemed sharp in comparison to his pale skin and Zeb idly wondered if the kid's lack of color had brought concern to anyone else. He figured it must have because they weren't hounding the kid with questions nor was Kanan trying to force some sort of training on him.
"Tomorrow we'll restart your training," Kanan spoke from the doorway almost like he could hear Zeb's thoughts, "Until then, get well rested."
Ezra nodded, still unmoving and Kanan gave him one last fleeting smile before turning. The door slid closed behind him and Zeb half-expected for the kid to move towards his bed, but he didn't. He just kept standing in the middle of the room, looking half-confused and more than slightly dazed.
"You alright?" Zeb asked after a long pause.
Ezra swallowed as he nodded, head jerking as he blinked dumbly. If Zeb hadn't known any better, he would've claimed the kid was drugged. Unfortunately, he knew better.
"You sure?" he asked moving to sit on the edge of his bed, body tense to move in case the youth needed it.
Another nod.
Blink.
Zeb wasn't convinced.
"Ezra-" he started when Ezra interrupted him, voice thinner and more worn then Zeb thinks he's ever heard come from the boy before.
"Did something happen besides me getting knocked out?" he demanded though it came off slightly needy like if he didn't know the truth then he'd burst.
Zeb swallowed before he lied, "No."
"Liar," Ezra claimed without hesitation and when their eyes met Zeb was surprised to find a clarity in them that seemed several years older than the boy- older than Kanan even.
Zeb bowed his head, not sure how to respond, when Ezra blinked again and apologized, "Sorry. I just… everything is so weird all of a sudden. It's like I'm hyperaware of everything."
Which can only be considered as a side effect.
Rather or not it was a good one, Zeb wasn't sure.
"Does Kanan know?" Zeb asked because it seemed like the logical response; after all the kid's master deserves to know whenever something was different about his apprentice.
Ezra swallowed, shaking his head as he murmured, "No. I'm not sure how he would respond."
"But you think something is wrong?" Zeb pressed, intense gaze focused on the boy who seemed so small and frail.
"I think something's different," Ezra corrected before hissing as he pressed the heel of his palm against the side of his head, shoulders hunching forward.
Zeb tensed, ready to leap forward and assist the boy in case he suddenly toppled over. He looked seconds away from collapsing, but then he swallowed as he straightened back up. His body was still tense, rigid, but he seemed less dazed than before.
Ezra cocked his head to the side before he asked, "You hear that?"
Zeb blinked before inquiring, "Hear what?"
Some sort of clarity filtered in Ezra's blue gaze then, like he suddenly became aware of something as he shook his head and reassured, "Nothing."
Zeb opened his mouth- to reply or to force some sort of explanation he wasn't sure- but then Ezra was moving. He climbed up to the top bunk like it was the most natural thing in the world, eyes clearer than before so Zeb laid back down as he let the matter drop.
From above he could make out the sound of Ezra rolling over, and in his mind he could imagine the boy curled up on his side hugging himself in that childish way Zeb catches every once and a while.
It had happened a lot in the beginning- when Ezra had first joined the crew- but he slowly started to grow out of it till they were rare and mostly impossible to catch unless Zeb was being really attentive, which wasn't often with the youth. He has caught it every once and a while, though. Moments where Ezra goes back to surviving on his own, causing him to curl in on himself in defense.
It was those moments Zeb thinks he sees the most of Ezra.
He held his breath, biting his bottom lip, as he considered speaking up and re-sparking any sort of conversation between the two of them. It was unnecessary, considering Ezra beat him to it.
"Zeb, I can feel your unease," he muttered from the top bunk, voice filtering in down the crack between their beds and the wall.
"What?" Zeb asked, the words shocking him as he blinked and furrowed his brow as he inquired, "Is that normal?"
"I don't know," Ezra admitted, voice impossibly young, "Sometimes. Whenever you think about your clan's massacre. Is that too invasive? I'm sorry."
Zeb blinked again as he tried working it all out through his brain.
It made sense. Ezra was always attuned to his surroundings- one of the reasons he was capable of surviving for as long as he had- and if the push was strong enough he should be able to pick up on it and whenever Zeb thought about his clan or what happened to them he must practically be shoving it all through the force.
"Don't be," he spoke finally, "You didn't know."
"I did know, though," Ezra protested and it sounded more precise than it should've, "That's the problem. I knew but I never told anyone."
"Don't worry about it," Zeb reassured again, stomach a cold block of ice as he wondered if he hadn't seen Ezra's dead body if he would've still been this understanding. He doubted it.
"So something did happen," Ezra spoke, something clueing him in and Zeb blinked because there's no way he would be able to know that, not when Kanan wasn't even able to pick up on it.
"I told you already," Zeb replied, forcing himself to stop thinking about it in fear of tipping the boy in the right direction.
Ezra might be dense but he's proven that he isn't stupid. With enough time he'd be able to piece together what had happened.
"You lied to me," Ezra agreed and the bed creaked before a blue head ducked over the edge of the top bunk, "but I asked for the truth. What happened?"
"Nothing," Zeb forced out in an angry growl as he rolled over so his back was facing the youth deciding right then that he would be the only one to carry the burden of that particular truth.
"Alright. Don't tell me," Ezra grumbled shades closer to his usually self as he ducked back up on top bunk, "but I know something happened. I can feel it."
"Didn't Kanan tell you to get some sleep?" Zeb demanded then, keeping his voice even as he pushed back thoughts of Ezra's too still form.
"Did he?" Ezra asked in a small voice as he switched effortlessly from annoying to fragile, "I can't remember."
Zeb was certain all the flip-flopping was going to be the early death of him. He couldn't go between frustrated and concerned as easily as Ezra evidently could.
"What do you mean you can't remember?" Zeb asked as he rolled back over so green eyes were staring at the bed above him, "It just happened."
"I know," Ezra murmured, "or, I think I do. I feel like it had but- I don't know- it's so hard to focus on it all at once."
Zeb just assumed he meant the sudden hyperactivity he's felt since waking so he didn't question any further. That seemed fine with Ezra at least, as he suddenly grew real quiet. It took him a while before he realized he had drifted off to sleep.
Zeb let him be, allowing his own mind to drift off in thought.
He couldn't help that it ended up beside a clearing surrounded by cold.
Then:
Ezra was 8 when he got sick for the first time. Really sick, that is. The one where he was convinced he was going to die, curled in a cardboard box in a long forgotten alley as the rain continued drip-drip-dripping outside.
He shivered, pulling his now baggy clothes tighter around his malnourished frame.
Living on the streets meant that lack of food was almost guaranteed but usually he's well enough to be able to at least satiate his basic needs. Consume enough calories to make it through another day, one day at a time.
He hadn't eaten in three days.
He hasn't even moved in the past 72 hours, forcing rainwater down his throat whenever he became uncomfortably parched as he remained in his feeble attempt of a shelter, shivering from the cold and the wet and whatever sickness he had managed to contract.
And it wasn't the first time in those three days that he was convinced that he was going to die.
Sometime around the fourth day, he had passed out. Whenever he was reawakened it was to the sound of intense arguing, followed by a loud banging as someone was shoved in the wall inches away from where he laid hidden. It was also the first time since his sickness that he realized it was no longer raining.
"I'll get you your money," the one who had been shoved reassured and they sounded more angry than scared.
"You better," the other growled and Ezra swallowed as he curled further in on himself.
It was also the first time he became aware of something more than just the obvious anger in both their voices. It's like he could feel the hatred rolling off their frames as they stared the other down.
Eventually they left, leaving Ezra to forget the angry sensation that made him feel frightfully cold as he passed back into oblivion.
Now:
Save Caleb Dume.
Ezra woke up to the voice, soft and almost tender while remaining some sort of authority, spoke inside his head. He squinted his eyes tighter together as he focused on breathing, keeping the eerie chill looming around the voice at a distance.
Yet it persisted.
Save Caleb Dume.
Ezra figured that would be infinitely easier if he actually knew a Caleb Dume. Or even just a Caleb in general but as it turns out, growing up alone on the streets limited his interactions with others as he spent most his time hiding in alleys or plotting on ways to steal for survival.
The voice didn't seem to care, though. It just kept repeating that one phrase, over and over again like it was supposed to mean something.
It didn't.
Not to Ezra, at least.
Yawning, he rolled over so he was facing the door. Beneath him he could feel Zeb's presence, deep in his slumber. Occasionally he would twitch like he was remembering something awful.
Not for the first time, it made him frown.
It wasn't exactly abnormal for Zeb to dream about something that sent waves of disturbance to him through the force. It was still odd and after whatever happened in the current blank spot in Ezra's brain it was causing for it all to resurface, which was fine. As far as Ezra could tell, Zeb had managed to make it out unscathed.
His lack of telling anybody else clued Ezra into the fact that something terrible must have happened. Something only Zeb knew and if Ezra had to harbor a guess then he would say that it involved him, which explained why Zeb seemed gentler whenever he was around and the giant gaps in his memory and the voice.
He just didn't know what so he couldn't help.
Caleb Dume.
The voice repeated more forceful, causing Ezra to flinch as he curled in on himself.
At first it had been gentle enough that he could ignore it. Then it morphed into something assertive, too powerful to ignore as it tried forcing his attention which was hard considering how scattered his brain felt. Almost like someone had taken it and tossed it everywhere, leaving him to scramble in picking up the pieces.
Below him, Zeb let out a gentle snort as his levels of distress increased slightly.
Ezra blinked as he realized that all of it somehow seemed different than whenever the warrior dreamt about his lost kind. This was more precise, fresher than several decades.
Sitting up right, he gracefully climbed from his bed. Zeb was rolled over on his side, covers twisted around his thickly muscled legs. His face was twisted in an expression much more vulnerable than Ezra was used to seeing.
Zeb's breath hitched as his back arched slightly. Ezra blinked, stepping back as he realized Zeb was in the midst of a nightmare worse than watching his people die. Then he realized that several hours ago he wouldn't have known that, wouldn't have been able to distinguish his fears.
"Zeb," Ezra whispered, hand outstretched as if to shake him awake.
Delicately, he brushed against Zeb's arm. Almost immediately a cold sensation washed over him, causing him to freeze as a slight shiver crept down his spine. The feeling of fear and desperation mixed in his brain, dragging out memories he had long since suppressed.
A small cry escaped his throat as he jerked back, chest heaving as he blinked wide blue eyes at his still sleeping friend. Zeb's eyebrows weren't creased as much, at least, and he seemed more peaceful than before leaving Ezra with a sour taste in his mouth.
It took Ezra a second before he realized he just took Zeb's negative feelings- something he hadn't been aware anyone was capable of.
Breathless, he looked down at his hands as he tried to determine what was going on with him.
Caleb Dume, the voice seemed to urge somewhere in the back of his mind causing the cold feeling to intensify throughout his form. He shivered, blinking dumb eyes at the sleeping warrior as he the voice seemed to scatter whatever little bit of the pieces he had managed to collect.
Rescue. Save. Caleb Dume. Protect Caleb Dume.
Ezra bent over, fingers going up to grip and pull at his hair as he hissed to the voice or himself he wasn't sure, "I don't know who that is."
Caleb Dume.
Find Caleb Dume.
Rescue Caleb Dume.
Protect Caleb Dume.
And Ezra was starting to doubt the mystery voice's ability to think past any mission that wasn't rescuing a stranger Ezra wasn't entirely sure was even still alive.
He thought about, briefly, asking Kanan if he had any ideas but immediately discarded the thought. He couldn't tell anyone he was hearing voices and he certainly couldn't risk them rushing out to save someone for all they knew couldn't be saved. So he bit his lip and promised to get some sleep so they could restart his training tomorrow.
Ezra forced a calming breath through between his teeth, squeezing his eyes tighter together as he focused on steadying himself. It was like the world had suddenly turned real wobbly, threatening to knock him off balance and crashing on the floor where he'd probably stay until someone came by and picked him up.
On the bed in front of him, Zeb snorted again as he rolled back over. Calming waves washed off of him, seeping into Ezra. He allowed it, letting it dampen on the confusion that overcame him whenever the voice allowed itself to become known.
Once he was certain he had his frame of mind under control, he exited the room in search for something to drink. He just hadn't been expecting for Sabine to be sitting in what served as their kitchen.
"Oh," he gasped, blinking dumbly at the girl who shot instantly to her feet amber eyes burning in concern for his well-being.
For what happened on the mission, he had to remind himself, and not because of his current mental state.
"Ezra," she muttered and seemed to grow real uncomfortable real quick as she adverted his gaze, fingers scratching against the table she had been sitting at, "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," Ezra lied, swallowing back the icy sensation that accompanied it.
She nodded in relief as she replied, "Good. That's good. Do me a favor and promise to tell one of us if you ever stop feeling fine, yeah?"
"Sure."
It left a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth but he managed it without setting her off that something wasn't okay with him. In fact, something was horribly, horribly wrong and Ezra wasn't sure what it was or how to fix it.
Besides finding whoever this Caleb Dume person was and rescuing him.
"Hey, Ezra?" Sabine spoke breaking the tense silence that stretched between the two of them.
"Yeah?" he asked almost instantly, pouncing on the opportunity of whatever meager distraction the girl could offer him.
"I know it's not any of my business," she started and he swallowed at the way that made her bow her head, "but who's Caleb Dume?"
That certainly wasn't what he had been expecting.
He blinked dumb blue eyes back at her as he managed out a single, "Huh?"
She met his gaze, eyes fierce and unrelenting while also gentle as she repeated, "Caleb Dume. You mentioned him whenever you were… unconscious."
"Oh… uh," Ezra trailed off suddenly uncertain on how to answer, "He's just someone I've had my mind on a lot recently."
Technically not a lie, as misleading as it was.
Sabine swallowed as she pressed, "But who is he? Someone you knew back on Lothal?"
Save Caleb Dume.
Ezra flinched, the voice unexpected. Across the room he could hear Sabine rushing forward slightly, as if to comfort him.
Ezra blinked, straightening his back and Sabine froze, back rigid and eyes wide.
"Ezra?" she asked and her voice was back to being frightened.
"I'm fine," he reassured again as he forced himself to latch on to that statement, "I'm just tired."
"Then you should be asleep," Sabine decided, shoulders slumping in relief as she apparently found a way of helping him.
"I was thirsty," Ezra protested, coming off like a whiny child but she didn't seem to mind as she hurried to fetch him a glass of water before ushering him back to his room.
Her grip tightened around his shoulders when they reached his door as she reassured in a soft voice, "You're going to be fine," before she disappeared down the hall, leaving him alone.
Ezra blinked, steading himself against the wall as he allowed his eyes to gloss over in barely concealed exhaustion and some part of him really wished he could believe it. The voice in his brain just made that close to impossible.
Find Caleb Dume. Protect Caleb Dume.
"Yeah, yeah," Ezra agreed softly to himself as he entered his room and crawled up on his bed, "I heard you."
To his surprise, the second he closed his eyes he was encompassed by a welcoming black.
Zeb was woken up by loud shuffling above him.
He blinked, slowly coming back in to awareness as the mattress over his head squeaked as the body on it moved. About a split second later, Zeb saw the orange clad leg climb down the ladder.
"Where are you going kid?" Zeb asked in a yawn as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up as straight as he could on the bottom bunk.
No answer.
Zeb frowned, knowing this surpassed the boy just being rude. Especially when memories of the last couple of hours flooded through his sleep induced fog.
"Ezra?" Zeb asked in a much more demanding tone as he scrambled from his bed, kicking away the covers tangled around his legs.
Ezra's form froze, an orange outline in the middle of their darkened room. It still crept Zeb out that the boy hasn't spoken to him, yet. Hasn't acknowledged his existence with words.
"Ezra?" Zeb repeated, taking a single step forward as he reached out with a hand as if he was going to touch the kid.
Ezra's frame shifted, from one foot to the other, before he slowly turned around so they were facing each other. Something icy cold washed through Zeb's entire form as he realized the eyes staring back at him weren't those of recognition.
They were a stranger's staring back at him like they couldn't figure out who he was.
"Ezra?" he repeated more desperately as he reframed from rushing over and shaking bony shoulders.
Ezra's electric blue eyes blinked, slowly, before he whispered in a stranger's tone, "Save Caleb Dume."
"I don't know who that is," Zeb protested, hoping to convey the message that he didn't very much care about whoever this Caleb person was. He just wanted Ezra to stop acting like one of the monsters in the scary fables Zeb had been so fond of when he was younger.
"Find Caleb Dume. Rescue Caleb Dume. Protect Caleb Dume," the voice replied like they didn't understand what Zeb had just said. Or they hadn't cared.
Zeb growled, the noise reverberating somewhere from the back of his throat as he practically snarled, "Get out of him."
And this time he did step forward with all the intentions of shaking the voice from Ezra because he didn't need to be Sabine or Kanan or Hera to know that the person in front of him wasn't the boy. Turns out, he hadn't needed to bother.
Blue eyes blinked, a flash of recognition shooting through them as Ezra asked in a small voice that was undoubtedly his, "Zeb?"
Zeb froze mid-step, green meeting blue as he racked his brain for any idea of what to do now that Ezra was back. It wasn't like he was fond of the idea of coming clean just yet, filling the boy in something Zeb didn't even understand.
"Kid?" he asked instead, voice soft and concerned.
Ezra blinked again, eyes fluttering as his legs wobbled underneath him. It was the only signs Zeb got before blue eyes rolled up in the back of Ezra's skull and his legs completely went out underneath him.
Faster than he's ever moved in such a small space, Zeb bolted forward. He outstretched his hands to catch the falling figure as he accepted for the first time since waking up beside the clearing that something was drastically wrong.
Next chapter: Ezra takes a turn for the worst, Zeb comes to realize his mistake and Kanan's forced to make a choice. Remember to review and let me know what you think.
