Chapter Text
“Captain Orrelios!”
Zeb looked over his shoulder at the rebel frantically running towards him and a lead weight dropped into the pit of his stomach. The way that the rebel simultaneously looked like they couldn’t tell Zeb fast enough and didn’t want to be the one to say anything reminded him of the fact that Kallus was out on a mission at that moment.
“What is it?” He asked, his voice gruff and low. He hoped it was enough to hide the growing anxiety that he was feeling.
The rebel stopped and panted for a moment, their eyes wide as they looked around the rest of the Ghost crew, all gathered around a projection table. The crew all watched them, waiting for them to speak. Finally, the rebel looked back at Zeb and managed, “We just got a transmission. One of our intell scouting groups. They were on-planet, but then we lost contact. They just re-entered the system. They requested a medical team be ready.”
Zeb wanted to ask a whole list of questions. What happened? Ready for what? Where were they scouting? How many ships left here and how many are returning? Is Kallus on one of them? Please tell me that Kallus is on one of them. Instead, all he managed was a choked snarl as he ran from the room. His long legs carried him towards the hanger faster than any of the rest of the crew. He could hear Kanan calling behind him, urging him to slow down. Hera’s voice was overlapping with his, and there was also Sabine and Ezra, but he ignored them. He ended up sliding out of the hallway, nearly parallel with the ground as he emerged into the hanger. He got there just in time to see the two ships come in.
They were smoking and struggling as they set down. An engine gave out on one and sent it crashing the last bit, pilots, hanger workers, and marshalls running towards the remaining ship as it eventually came to a rest on Yavin IV. Rebels started spilling from open hatches, coughing and leaning on the shoulders of others as they were pulled from the damaged ships.
Zeb frantically scanned over the heads of the crowd, searching for a mop of blonde hair that he was beginning to know so well. His yellow eyes caught it on the other side of the crowd. “Kallus!”
He pushed his way through, gently guiding people out of his path as he wove his way through as fast as possible. Later, he would realize that his point of destination never made an attempt to get closer to him and it would make sense. In the moment, he wasn’t thinking about it as a smile spread across his face. The crowd seemed to split at the very end and he stumbled out. “Kallus, I-.”
His breath rushed out of his chest and the smile dropped off his face as he came to a stop beside the human.
There was blood covering the left side of Kallus’ face as he stared vacantly into the distance of Yavin IV. Zeb could see more blood on his left hip and he seemed to be favoring his right knee, the one that had been giving him trouble since Bahryn. He stumbled another step, looking around the base as if in a trance.
“Kallus?” Zeb asked, stepping in front of him. “Kal, can you hear me?” His frown deepened, if that was even possible at that point, and he grabbed the ex-agent’s biceps as he tried to side-step the Lasat. “Oi! Where are you going? What happened?”
Still not looking at him, Kallus answered, “Empire . . . Thrawn knew . . . Set a trap.” He reached a hand down and touched at a spot hidden under his jacket on his left hip. When he pulled it back, his fingers were covered in bright red blood. A drunken, lopsided grin spread across his face as he gazed at his hand, turning Zeb’s stomach as he started frantically searching around for a medic. “Almost didn’t get out.”
“Karabast. That’s enough of that. We’re finding you a medic. Come on.”
There were several reasons why Zeb liked Kallus. He was easy to talk to, smart but not a know-it-all, and he looked good with his hair down. On top of all those, though, he was strong . Zeb sometimes forgot just how strong the human was until moments like that, where he was losing blood at an alarming rate (which was any rate in Zeb’s opinion when it came to Kallus and the rest of his family) and he still managed to twist Zeb’s arm to just the right angle where he was forced to let go. “Kallus!”
Kallus had backed away a few steps from Zeb, his head down. Blood dripped from his chin and fell in fat spots onto the ground as he shook his head. “No. Go help the others. Don’t - don’t waste medical supplies on me. I’m fine.”
Suddenly, Zeb was back in the Ghost after their escape from Atollon. Kallus was in a similar condition, standing against the wall, refusing medical supplies. “Don’t waste your bacta on me. I’m fine. Others need it more.”
Zeb took a step towards him, hiding the hurt when Kallus backed away. “Kal, we have plenty.” It was a lie, but he wasn’t really sure how the human was still on his feet after the injuries he had obviously suffered. There was a fear, a recurring anxiety that Zeb had that Kallus would refuse medical aid just one too many times. That he would find him, someday, slouched against a wall while a medic treated someone else for a sprained wrist. That in the time it took for the medic to apply a bandaid, Kallus would . . .
He shook his head and let the trail of thought die there. He couldn’t think that way. Wouldn’t think that way.
“Come on, Ka-.”
“Others need more attention that I do. Go and see to them,” Kallus insisted again.
A thought occurred to him as he took another step and Kallus backed away. “Kal, do you know who I am?” He didn’t respond, so Zeb pushed on, quieter, so that only Kallus could hear. “Sasha, it’s me.”
Finally, those light brown eyes locked with his yellow ones. The pupils were still blown, but Zeb breathed a small sigh of relief when they focused slightly more than they had been. Sasha. A private name, one that Zeb only used when it was just them. Even now, in the midst of medics and blood, it came out more like a purr than anything else. Kallus took a step towards him, hand extended to grasp at Zeb’s wrist when his hand was within reach.
“Garazeb?” He questioned, squinting his eyes even though they were, now, only about a foot apart. His other hand came up to run blood stained fingers through Zeb’s beard. “My Garazeb?”
“It’s me,” Zeb reassured, his arm winding around Kallus’s waist to draw him closer. He could feel the quivers running through the ex-agent’s body and his skin had grown paler in the moments they’d been standing there. “I’m here. I’ve got you. We need to get you medical attention.”
Kallus still shook his head, fingers weakly gripping Zeb’s hand and shoulder. “No,” he breathed. “Others,” he swayed in Zeb’s arms but still fought to complete his thought. “Others need it more . . .”
Zeb dove slightly to catch him as Kallus’s legs gave out and his forehead fell against his shoulder. He’d lost weight since their excursion on Bahryn, but muscle was always heavy, making him lighter but not light. Still, Zeb didn’t hesitate to scoop the human the rest of the way into his arms, holding him firmly against his chest. He tried to ignore the blood that he could feel sticking in his fur as he turned. Kanan was still there, facing his direction. “Kanan.” Zeb hated the way his voice sounded; weak and breathy, halfway between a plea and a sob. Scared. “Help.” He didn’t know where the word came from. He hadn’t planned to ask for help. He’d planned on going to find a medic, but there was panic welling in his chest. It wasn’t unfamiliar, but it took him back to days where his world was collapsing down around his ears and the sky was on fire with Imperial ships. He had a flash image of his hands being coated in the blood of his people before he blinked and it was Kallus again, draped in his arms. My Sasha.
“Don’t worry, Zeb,” Kanan said, reaching out a hand as Zeb took a few steps closer. They started walking back through the thinning crowd as Kanan continued, “Sabine went to find a medic.”
Zeb hated that hallway.
He’d been sitting it in for over an hour now and he hated it.
But not as much as he hated the door at the end of it.
The past few hours had been a blur for Zeb. He remembered following Kanan to where they eventually were rejoined by Sabine. A medic took one look at Kallus and rushed them to the infirmary. There was some kind of debate about a tank, but they eventually decided against it and then there were a lot of patches. Then, they’d pushed him out of the room. Something about a ‘sterile environment’. Then, that door had closed in front of him and he couldn’t see Kallus anymore.
“How are you doin’?”
As a trained member of the Lasan Honor Guard, Zeb didn’t get startled. It was against his iron conditioning. So, he didn’t jump when Kanan spoke up from beside him.
“Kanan.” He wasn’t breathing heavily. “Warn a guy next time.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” He slid down the wall and sat next to Zeb. “I did call your name, though, and you didn’t answer.”
Oh.
“Looked to be pretty deep in thought. I decided to come over and make sure that you weren’t hurtin’ yourself.” When Zeb didn’t respond to the playful jab, Kanan bumped his shoulder. “He’s going to be okay.”
“I don’t like it when you do your weird jedi stuff,” Zeb pouted.
“I don’t have to be a jedi to see that you’re worried about him,” Kanan answered. He’d removed his visor, so, when he looked at Zeb, Zeb could actually see the paleness and scarring of his eyes. He missed being able to look Kanan in the eye. It was a sign of respect, how they communicated what they were thinking in the middle of a firefight. He missed his brother’s eyes.
Zeb nodded and let his head fall back against the wall behind them. “Guess you’re right.” About which detail, not even Zeb was positive.
They sat in silence for a few moments, Kanan’s shoulder flush against Zeb’s bicep. The Lasat appreciated the silent support. It made him hate the hallway a little bit less. That door, though . . .
“Do you remember when Hera was in that bad wreck?”
Zeb knew exactly what Kanan was talking about. They’d all been terrified when they saw her drop out of hyperspace, her ship little more than a flaming shell. They’d been afraid of what they were going to find once they recovered it. None more so than Kanan. That was the closest Zeb had ever seen him get to breaking. “I do.”
“I was so scared ,” Kanan accented. Zeb knew the significance, had heard him repeat it to Ezra in their training: Jedi weren’t supposed to feel fear. “I thought I was going to lose her.” His weight was a little heavier when he said, “I just wanted you to know that I know how this feels and, if you need to talk, I’m here.”
“It’s just -,” Zeb started, fighting for the words. The feeling, the fear, was there, but it was amorphous. He didn’t know how to describe it. “This is so - I’m afraid that . . .” The truth hit him and was rushing past his teeth before he could filter it. “I’m afraid of losing him now that he’s mine.” He shook his head. “That came out wrong. He’s not mine, he’s his own, but I’ve lost almost everything else except for you guys,” he said, referring to the Ghost crew, “and now that he’s there, too, I’m so scared that he’ll have escaped only to be snatched up and destroyed by the Empire. Just like everything else.” When his head had sunk into his hands, Zeb didn’t know, but there was moisture clinging to the corners of his eyes as he added, “I don’t want to lose him, too.”
Silence stretched through the hallway again. He could hear Kanan breathing beside him as he pulled his head out of his hands and leaned back against the wall, eyes closed.
“If we’re fixed on the losses of the past, we’ll never be able to appreciate the gifts of the present.”
Zeb smiled and cracked an eye open, looking down at the cross-legged human. “That was some deep jedi wisdom, there.”
Kanan shrugged. “It sounded pretty good in my head.”
“Captain Orrelios?”
They both looked up at the medic standing over them. She smiled kindly. “If you want to, you can see Captain Kallus, now.”
Kallus knew something was wrong the second he woke up. It was too quiet. He’d grown used to the snoring of a certain big, purple cat in recent cycles and he found, oddly enough, that he couldn’t sleep as well without it, now. As his senses returned to him, he was greeted with the sounds of beeping and hushed voices, but no obnoxious Lasat snoring. That was when he felt the weight on his hand.
Rolling his head on the pillow beneath him, he smiled. Speaking of obnoxious Lasat.
Zeb was there.
His head and shoulders were on the side of Kallus’s bed, four fingered hand wrapped around his, causing the weight. Kallus couldn’t see his face as he was looking away, but he could tell, by his breathing, that the Honor Guard was awake.
“Captain Orrelios, isn’t there something you should be doing?”
Kallus was expecting a retort of some kind, maybe a toothy grin and some kind of chastisement for getting into trouble without him. He wasn’t expecting for Zeb to look up, eyes wide with relief, before he surged forwards and rubbed his temple against Kallus’s. A deep rumbling purr filled the space between them as Kallus reached up and buried his fingers in Zeb’s furr, running his hands up the Lasat’s arms. He froze when he encountered something crusty and pulled away to inspect it.
There were chips of something red and flaky on his fingers. When he looked back at Zeb, he saw that Zeb’s yellow eyes were also fixed on the red flakes and the purring had stopped. Kallus was suddenly very aware that he didn’t remember getting back to base. There was a chunk of his memory that was just missing.
“Zeb? What happened? Are you alright?”
Zeb’s arms were bracketing him on either side as he sat on the edge of the rebel spy’s bed. “I’m fine.” The words came out tight and choked as he looked away, hiding his face.
Kallus reached up towards him, grasping at the seams of his jumpsuit. “The mission -.”
“What do you remember?” Zeb interrupted.
“I remember,” Kallus started, fighting for the memories through the fog. “We made it to the planet. We were gathering intel. Then-.” His eyes went wide as the fog cleared. “Death troopers. Thrawn. He set a trap. One of the ships - the pilot . . .” He was vaguely aware of the increased beeping beside him, of the way that Zeb’s hands had moved from the bed to be grasping his arms. “We retreated to the remaining carriers.” His hand went to his hip at the memory of the blaster shot that had torn right through him, sending him to the ground. There’d been a shearing pain that had filled his senses and everything had gone fuzzy before shouting voices had brought him back and made him push himself back to his feet and keep running and firing. He skipped over that detail. Unimportant , his mind supplied. “We barely made it off the planet. There was a Star Destroyer. They opened fire. Our ships were damaged but we managed to jump to hyperspace.”
Zeb nodded, head still down, hiding his face in shadow despite the way his hands were gently clutching at Kallus.
Kallus sighed. “I’ll have to write a message to the family of the pilot. They should be informed.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve told you how writing messages to families of lost soldiers is harder in the Rebellion that it was in the Empire.”
“You did.”
“Then, I’ll have to meet with the Generals. They need to be debriefed-.” He stopped as Zeb pulled him up off the bed.
It hurt.
His hip was screaming at him, his head spinning as he went upright, but he needed the contact. Kallus needed Zeb to hold him, just for a few moments, and let him remember that, once again, they’d made it. That they were here together. He needed the Lasat’s strong heartbeat in his ear; needed to feel his chest rise and fall with breaths and the silky fur between his fingers. To remember that he wasn’t alone, that he would never be alone again. Kallus just needed Zeb.
The moment could only last so long before his inhalation turned to a hiss and he betrayed the pain he was in.
“Karabast, Kal, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Zeb said, pulling away. He laid him back down, handling him like he was made of glass.
“It’s okay,” Kallus soothed, combing some of the red flakes out of Zeb’s fur with his fingers. “I - I needed that, too.”
“I just -.” He was facing the Fulcrum agent again, revealing to Kallus the stress-lined eyes. His ears drooped as he continued, “I was so scared that I was going to lose you.”
Kallus smiled, reached up, and cupped the Lasat’s jaw, thumb stroking across his cheekbone. “No matter what happens, Garazeb Orrelios, you will never lose me.”
Zeb smiled down at him before leaning forwards to rub his cheek against the crown of Kallus’s head. Pulling back, he pressed a kiss to the human’s forehead, smiling into his skin as he felt him press closer. “And I am yours, my Sasha.”
Bonus:
“Eww! Get a room!”
Zeb jumped up from his position perched on the side of Kallus’s bed and turned, positioning himself between Kallus and the newcomers. Kallus couldn’t help but grin behind Zeb’s back, laughing at Zeb’s apparent instinct to protect his honor.
“What are you two doing here?” Zeb asked, facing Sabine and Ezra. They were leaning in the doorway, Sabine wearing the epitome of a kark-eating-grin and Ezra making a fake-gagging face.
“Hera sent us down here to check on Kallus!” Ezra defended, hands raised in a placating surrender.
“She wanted to check in on his recovery. Make sure he was doing okay,” Sabine added, tone innocent enough despite her grin.
“But!” Ezra cut in. He donned a grin to match Sabine’s. “We can both see that he is doing just fine .”
Zeb raised a single finger in warning towards them. “You get outta here and forget what you saw or Hera finds out what happened to her last crate of meilooruns.”
Both their grins dropped. Sabine straightened her back and tucked her helmet under her arm before marching out of the infirmary. Ezra offered a rushed, “We’ll tell her he’s doing fine,” before following her out.
“That worked better than I thought it would,” Zeb admitted as he turned back around and helped Kallus in his struggle to sit up. He slid in behind Kallus, allowing the ex-agent to fall back against his chest, alleviating some of the stress on his injuries.
“What did happen to this supposed crate of meilooruns?” Kallus asked.
Zeb shrugged. “Beats me. But everytime I bring it up, they respond like that, so they were obviously involved. Just because I don’t know exactly what they did, doesn’t mean I can’t still use it as a threat.”
Kallus grinned as he let his eyes slide back closed, feeling safe and content as Zeb wound his arms around his chest. “And they call me the intelligence operative.”
Resting his cheek on top of Kallus’s head, Zeb purred, “Better watch out, Kallus. I think you just gave me a compliment.”
Kallus gave the arm wrapped around his chest one last pat-pat before mumbling, “Only because you’re my favorite.”
Zeb smiled and waited.
Waited for the breaths against his arm to even and lengthen out, for the heart-rate monitor beside them to level out, for his instincts to tell him that, based upon their prior nights spent together, Kallus was asleep, before he said, “Yeah. I love you, too.”