Chapter Text
The first part of the trip through hyperspace was quiet, which Hera had expected. It was an hour or two before they dropped out at the Sereeda Waypoint, and Hera quickly began the calculations to make their secondary jump.
“Hera,” Kanan said quietly. It wasn’t the first time he’d spoken—Hera had explained exactly what Ezra had gotten himself into this time, and they’d talked about that a little—but it still surprised her. “We should talk.”
Oh. Well, that’s new. Hera sent a quick glance at him, trying to read what she could see of his face. His mouth was set, his jaw tight in the way that meant he was upset about something. Less than promising.
But they did need to talk, and if Kanan was finally initiating things, that was hopefully a good thing. “Okay,” she said. “Let me make the jump to Yarma before the Mining Guild shows up, and then we’ll talk.”
He nodded once, and Hera returned to her work. As she completed the calculations, she pushed down the feeling of nervousness swelling in her chest. What does he want to talk about? What if he doesn’t want to figure things out, or doesn’t even realize things are wrong, or maybe he’s decided—no. Never that.
Trying to figure out what he wanted to talk about before they spoke would just make things worse. So Hera shoved the thoughts aside, resolutely ignored the ones that tried to creep back, and kept working.
It was only a minute later that she was done, thankfully. Pushing a lever forward, she watched the black of space around them blur into starlines, and turned to Kanan. “Okay. What’s on your mind?”
The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, almost like he wanted to laugh. But the amusement faded away seconds later. “I…I’m sorry.”
Hera’s eyebrows shot up. Oh. Are we actually going to have this conversation? “For what?”
Kanan laughed, the sound short and hard. “You know what for. I…” he trailed off for a long moment. But finally, he reached up and removed the mask that covered the upper half of his face. Hera almost caught her breath—she so rarely saw him without it these days. She knew why he wore it—to cover the scars marking the upper half of his face, and to keep people from feeling uncomfortable at the sight of his opaque gaze.
But she missed seeing him, silly though it might sound. And she hated how it almost felt like another wall between them. He knows that, she realized as Kanan started to speak again.
“The past six months have been…hard. The kind of hard I could never have gotten through without you. You have been supportive and kind and incredibly patient, and I’ve responded with…indifference. By pushing you away, and not just you. Our entire family, and that’s—” his voice shook, and he bowed his head. “That’s not the kind of man I want to be.”
Hera’s heart ached, and she almost reached out to him. But something—be it instinct, or the fact she wanted to hear him say what he was going to—made her wait as he continued, his voice a little steadier. “I can offer excuses. I can tell you that I was afraid, that I didn’t know what I was going to do next. But none of that matters. What matters is…I hurt you, Hera.”
She’d never seen Kanan look so upset. Running a hand across his face, he said, “I promised a lot of people, before our relationship even began, that I wasn’t going to do that. I broke that promise by turning my back on you and our family. And I am so, so sorry.”
He stopped, and Hera took a deep breath. “Can I be honest?” she asked him.
“Always,” he said immediately. “And the least I deserve is some brutal honesty.”
Hera’s half-smile faded away quickly. “It did hurt,” she said quietly. “To have you there, but not there. I knew—or at least, I hoped I knew—that it wasn’t going to last, but that didn’t change how I felt.”
“I know,” Kanan said, his voice shaking a little. “And I’ll understand if—I don’t want to force you into anything—”
Wait. “Kanan,” Hera said, staring at him. “You’re not—you don’t think that I would leave you over this?”
“You’d have every right to,” he said, his voice soft.
“Oh, love,” Hera said, and finally gave into the urge to reach forward and take his hands. He startled a little at the contact, but willingly twined his fingers with hers. “Yes, this was hard and messy and it hurt, but I forgive you. You waited for me so long, I could wait a few months.”
Shaking his head, Kanan said, “This is different.”
“Maybe a little,” Hera said quietly. “But I do forgive you, love. And I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” Kanan’s voice broke on the last words, and Hera closed the last of the gap between them to pull him into her arms. He rose to meet her, almost clinging to her as she held him tight.
She’d rarely seen him cry before—and even now, he wasn’t fully crying. The doctor had said that he most likely couldn’t any more. But Hera could feel him shaking with sobs, and tears pricked in her own eyes as she pressed her face into his shoulder. “You shouldn’t—I don’t deserve this,” he managed.
Hera let out a shaky laugh. “You know, that’s one of the things I’ve learned thanks to you, Kanan. Love is not about what you’re owed or deserved. It’s not about being perfectly deserving. It’s a gift.”
“Force knows you’re the greatest gift I’ve ever been given,” he murmured, his voice growing a little more even. Hera didn’t let go of him, though. She wasn’t quite ready yet.
“Same to you,” she whispered. “And don’t argue, or you’ll be in trouble.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Captain Hera,” Kanan said, and that made Hera smile. Force, how she’d missed his teasing and the nickname and just…everything about him. About being with him.
She felt him let out a long sigh. “I still owe the others an apology.”
“Oh, that definitely wouldn’t hurt,” Hera agreed. “But they’re family, and family sticks together.”
“Hmm.” She felt rather than heard him release a long sigh, his chin dropping to rest on her forehead. “This…doesn’t feel like it should be real. You just… forgiving me like that.”
“I won’t say it doesn’t hurt, or that I’m immediately over everything,” Hera said. “Because I’m not. But…I don’t want to hold onto any anger against you on this. On anything, really. Things might not go back to how they were immediately. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
Shaking his head, Kanan said, “I still don’t think I deserve you.”
“That’s one argument you’ll never win, dear,” Hera told him, pulling back a little just in time to see his smile. Oh, how she’d missed his smile. “Now, why don’t you explain to me how exactly this change of heart came about?”
He released her, and Hera returned to her seat, albeit reluctantly. “Okay—but this one is pretty strange.”
“I’d expect nothing less, knowing you,” Hera quipped, and he laughed. A chime sounded from the console, and Hera grimaced. “Actually—hold that thought. We’re coming up on Yarma.”
Nodding, Kanan said, “Ezra first. Story later.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Hera told him, and his smile widened.
“Good.”
~~~
Ezra had this whole situation under control. Sabine and the others were taking care of the Y-wings, and he had just finished handling the station situation.
And sure, the station was now plummeting to a fiery doom, but he could handle that. The Phantom was waiting for him below. The others had taken off, including Hondo, who he was currently watching fly away in a stolen Imperial shuttle.
“Guess I better get moving, too,” he reflected. Turning, Ezra started to head towards the door—and froze.
The Dark figure was standing in the doorway.
Neither of them moved, but Ezra could feel his heart pounding. The slight figure stayed motionless, their dark cloak just barely swaying. Their clothing was all black, and they wore a helmet to cover their face. A saber was settled at their hip.
“Hey,” Ezra said. He didn’t go for his lightsaber—not yet—but dropped his hand down next to it. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Ezra.”
“I know,” the figure said, voice modulated by the helmet. Reaching for the weapon on their belt, they plucked it free and started towards Ezra.
“Okay, then,” Ezra said under his breath. Igniting his saber, he moved to meet his opponent, weapon swinging.
The figure moved faster, lightsaber snap-hiss ing to life. Green clashed with a blade that, to Ezra’s surprise, was a bright magenta. Ezra brushed aside his surprise seconds later, and focused.
Sabers humming, they dueled their way down the hall. Ezra wasn’t surprised to find the figure as adept with the weapon as he was. He wasn’t quite outmatched, though he found it hard to keep up.
As they made their way down the hall, Ezra kept himself at the ready waiting for an opportunity. Come on, there’s gonna be an opening here somewhere. Come on…
The moment came, and Ezra struck. His saber flicked through the opening in his opponent’s guard, slashing open their helmet.
The figure staggered backwards, clutching at their face. With a growl— the first real show of emotion Ezra had seen—they grabbed the edge of their helmet and yanked it off.
To his surprise, the person underneath was a girl, around his age, with red-gold hair cut to her jaw line. Glaring at him with bright green eyes, she said, “I’m starting to rethink my position on not killing you.”
Ezra blinked, a little surprised. Returning to ready position, he said, “So you’re thinking about not killing me?”
“I was,” she grumbled. “But you’re turning out to be kind of annoying.”
“Why weren’t you gonna kill me?” Ezra asked. He shot a quick glance at the lift a little ways away. So close. Just gotta get in there. “I thought that was an Inquisitor’s job.”
Letting out a huff of annoyance, the girl said, “I’m not an Inquisitor.”
“Right. But you have a lightsaber and you’re hunting me, a Jedi?”
Glowering, the girl said, “Again. Really rethinking this.”
“Sorry—finish what you were gonna say.”
A thin smile crossed her face. “I was going to say that I wouldn’t need to kill you. Because you’re already halfway to the Dark side, and from there it’s an easy step to join us.”
Ezra’s heart stuttered in his chest. “W-what? I’m not—”
“Yes, you are,” the girl said calmly. “You’ve been using the Dark side. I saw it, on Naraka. And it’s not the first time.”
She was right. Obviously she was right, but— “I’m not like you,” Ezra insisted. “I’m using it to help my friends, to protect them.”
“And I’m using it to serve my Empire,” the girl said coolly. “The people who raised me.”
Ezra frowned. “The Empire? But…what about your parents?”
Shrugging, the girl said, “They’re dead. Or they abandoned me. It doesn’t matter. They’re gone, and now I’m here—why are you staring like that?”
“I’m not, I just…my parents are gone, too,” Ezra said quietly.
He could have been her, he realized. If the Empire had found him instead of Kanan. If he’d gone down the wrong path. Like I am right now. Oh, no…
“So you understand,” the girl said. “You have two options here. You could be like me. Or you could die. It’s your choice.”
Ezra barely heard her, his head spinning. Ventress and Kanan were right. The Dark side…it’s wrong. All of this is wrong.
“Well?”
Her harsh snap pulled him back to the present. One thing at a time. First, I gotta get out of here alive. Grinning, he said, “Decent choices. But I think I’m gonna go with option three.”
“I didn’t give you an option—”
The girl cut herself off with a yelp as Ezra called on the Force and sent her flying across the room, slamming into a wall. Before she was on her feet he’d dove into the lift, slapping the button that closed it. The last thing he saw before the door hissed shut was her lunging forward with a snarl on her face.
Dropping against the back of the lift, Ezra let out a long sigh. Kark.
Things only got worse when he made it back to the shipworks. Ezra could still hear Sabine’s cries of concern as he watched the Phantom plummet to its doom beneath him. No, no, no. First the Y-wings don’t have hyperdrives, now the Empire’s here, and I’m…I’m in a lot of trouble.
“This is wrong,” he said aloud. “It’s all gone wrong…Kanan. Where are you?”
“Who’s Kanan?”
Ezra nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the girl’s voice. Spinning around, he demanded, “Where did you come from?”
“Downstairs,” she said. “And now, unfortunately, I have to kill you.”
“Are you KIDDING me?” Ezra groaned. He grabbed his lightsaber, bringing it to life again as the girl charged towards them.
She only got a few blows in, however, before the station shuddered violently. Ezra stumbled backwards, nearly losing his grip on his lightsaber as he went flying over the edge. As he grabbed hold of part of the platform, he lost sight of the girl.
That, however, was far from his biggest problem right now. The station was going down hard, and Ezra was going with it. Switching off his lightsaber, he clipped it to his belt and held on for dear life as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to do next.
The answer came sooner than he expected, in the form of a familiar sound. No way, Ezra thought, even as lights cut through the green fog enveloping him. It couldn't be. There's no way—
“Ezra, I'm right here!”
It was Kanan's voice, and possibly the last sound Ezra expected to hear. “Kanan?” He shouted, throwing a cautious look over his shoulder, careful not to lose his grip. And there it was—the Ghost, and Kanan half hanging out the airlock. Ezra had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.
“I can't reach you!” he shouted, heart thumping because Kanan was here and he was so, so close to actually making it out. But the gap was so wide, and he didn't think he could make it. “It's too far!”
“It's okay, I've got you!” Kanan yelled. The words hit harder than they should have, and Ezra almost closed his eyes against tears. Is that still true?
Even as he thought it, he felt it. Kanan, on the other end of the Force bond they'd both been ignoring for months. I’m here. I've got you. You just have to trust me.
“Go ahead. Let go.”
He both heard and felt Kanan's words, and he knew what he had to do. The Imperial girl…she didn't have anyone. But I do. And that's part of what makes us different. I have to trust him.
So Ezra let go.
For a terrifyingly long moment, he was floating, on his own, plummeting downwards. And then Kanan's hand locked onto his arm, and his master pulled him into the airlock to safety.
They crashed to the ground, and Ezra felt Kanan's hand move to his shoulder. “Got him!” he shouted, presumably to Hera, and the Ghost started to move.
Gasping for breath, Ezra sat up, staring at Kanan. “Y-you’re here,” he stammered.
“I'm here,” Kanan said, his voice steady and reassuring, like it used to be. “I'm sorry it took so lo—”
Ezra cut him off by throwing his arms around him. He knew he was supposed to be mad at him, and Kanan was probably still upset with him, and Hera was DEFINITELY livid. But right now, he was just so glad to see him. “Thank you,” he choked out.
Kanan pulled him into a fierce embrace, and Ezra almost started crying right then and there. “That’s my job, Ezra,” he told him. “I’m sorry I haven’t been doing it well lately.”
And now Ezra really was going to cry—except Hera’s voice crackled over the intercom. “You two get up here, now. We’re going to make the jump to hyperspace.”
Uh-oh, Ezra thought. She had her business mode voice on, with a certain tone that said that he was in big, big trouble.
But he wasn’t dead, and he hadn’t joined the Dark side, and Kanan was back. That was what really mattered, even despite the many other messes.
Maybe things were finally going to start to be okay again.
~~~
Okadiah loved it when a plan came together.
Not that it was his plan, per se. But Kasmir and Vos had clearly plotted up something, and it had worked. From where Okadiah was sitting on the ramp of the Submarine, he could see Kanan and Ezra talking, out on the edge of the camp, far away from the others.
It was good to see them talking again. Especially since it meant Kanan was slowly starting to come back to them. He’d pulled Okadiah aside briefly while Hera was debriefing Ezra and the others (and by debriefing, of course, he meant grounding Ezra for the remainder of his natural life) and apologized, of all things. Apologized for putting so much distance between himself and the rest of the crew.
Okadiah had forgiven him, obviously. He’d known Kanan for longer than anyone (except for Kasmir) and he had never wondered if the boy was going to come back. Kanan could no sooner abandon his family than a Nautolan could forget to breathe underwater.
But he knew that the others might take a little longer to process this than he would. Ezra was still a little on edge, and Sabine had been hurt by Kanan’s absence, too. And, of course, there was Hera.
They’d seemed more at ease in each other’s presence earlier, Okadiah had noted. Like they’d talked things over, which was good. While Okadiah understood the need to take time to heal—everyone needed it, and he was just glad Kanan had done that instead of completely ignoring his pain—he was also glad to see things getting back to normal.
Though not everything could be normal, of course. Kanan may have been a Jedi, but things had changed. Certain factors of running the network were going to be decidedly harder than before.
He’ll figure it out, though, Okadiah thought reflectively, sipping his mug of tea. Despite his love of caf, Chenni had brought him around to the idea of a warm, soothing drink before bedtime when she’d moved to Atollon—which remained one of his fondest memories in the last six months.
Her arrival was definitely a factor in his lack of resentment against Kanan, he mused. After all, he could hardly hold anger against him when there were some things he had yet to discuss with his friend.
Draining the last of his tea, he got his feet with a grunt. It was past time for bed. As he headed up the ramp, Okadiah cast a glance over his shoulder at where Kanan and Ezra were talking.
Yes, it was good to see things going back to normal again. Even if some things could never be the same, the important things were still there. And Okadiah couldn’t ask for anything else.