Chapter Text
Zeb sighed. As if he was waiting for something. Probably something impossible.
His gaze was fixed on the unresponsive bunk above him, his inability to sleep eating at him. He pretends he doesn’t know the answer about why everything has felt a little more fuzzy than usual. He’s not sick, that’s something he knows for sure, but it’s something he refuses to address. Something he doesn’t want to look in the eyes.
He rubs his hands over his face, gently groaning at his uncontrolled thoughts taking over. Since when had he become such an overthinker? He’s always been an ask questions later kind of guy; why are his nights possessed with thoughts and moments being fidgeted in his brain?
He knows exactly why. In fact, he knows exactly who. He just doesn’t like to say it.
Zeb turns to his side, the blankets over him getting slightly strewn. He tucks his hands underneath his head and looks at the door ahead of him. The Ghost was relatively quiet around this time; they were spending the night at Chopper Base so the humming of the ship’s systems was absent. The dim night lights were the only reminder people still resided there.
He wouldn’t be surprised if Sabine was still awake, painting some kind of Imperial tool or armor. She had always been a night owl like he was, always looking for the next project to busy her hands. He could hear Ezra and Kanan stirring some nights too, finding some kind of Jedi business to discuss. Hera was the only one who slept consistently; she had a large responsibility to the rebel cell and the Ghost crew after all.
His found family always made Zeb smile, knowing there would be people always there for him, no matter what shenanigans he got himself involved in. Or who he got himself involved with.
The distraction was brief, but his thoughts always drifted back to him. To Kallus. The name itself made Zeb shudder. Saying his name was a step towards accepting his feelings. Something he continues to avoid.
Even though it had been about two cycles, nights like this still kept Zeb awake. These moments were becoming more frequent. All from the one unassuming night that proved to be life changing.
His memories of it weren't as cold as it was on that moon. He knows he did the right thing in the end, letting him go, but the cost was a bond Zeb wasn’t ready to accept.
And now he’s Fulcrum. One stupid night was enough to push him to change his outlook on the Empire he’s spent years fighting for. He threw away countless hours of training and brainwashing, risking his life to become a rebel just because of one night. That only proved as confirmation that night meant something to him too. Something that still baffled Zeb.
'So I guess we’re friends now?'
Were they?
He couldn’t focus here. Cooped up in his small and seemingly barren room alone with his thoughts was enough to drive anyone insane.
Pushing himself up from his bed, he paced himself to the door, finger clumsy hitting the button to open the door. He hoped no one heard the loud creak of metal as the door threw itself open and shut behind Zeb. He headed to the bridge, surprisingly drowsy for someone who hadn’t had a bit of shut-eye.
The landscape of Chopper Base sat monochromatic under the night’s subtle light, the gently rolling hills being the only thing breaking up the horizon. The lenient moonlight dusted over the controls and seats in the cockpit, accenting the ship’s buttons and Sabine’s graffiti. Zeb settled in one of the second row seats and laid back, the metal gently straining at his weight. While his eyes were set aimlessly on the planet’s view through the window, his mind traveled parsecs back to that ice moon.
The only reminder of life besides each other and the creature almost killing them was the light keeping them warm. It was an insignia of their survival. After the action settled, he remembered the small cave the two of them found to spend the rest of the night in. Exhaustion had finally hit them, especially Kallus, who seemed to be on the verge of collapsing from the cold.
“Move that closer to you. You need it more,” Zeb huffed, scooting the light in the snow closer to Kallus.
He only nodded his head in response, too cold to argue.
They sat in the quiet for a bit, listening to the whistling wind and the aggressive snow fall. All they had to do was wait for the transponder to pick up anything, any kind of life to save them, no matter rebel or Empire. Any thoughts of who would find them didn’t even matter; all they wanted to do was get off the moon alive.
The rustle of snow broke the silence and Zeb jumped at the feeling of a body against him.
“It’s cold,” Kallus muttered, not meeting Zeb’s eyes.
Zeb couldn’t even process the implications of what this meant, all thoughts were focused on the breathing body next to him. It was Kallus, the man that was a cornerstone of the Empire. Even though in the moment he addressed it, he knew that didn’t matter for their survival. The both of them had become incredibly open around each other, throwing down walls no one knew the contents behind in the face of death.
Zeb took in a breath, attempting to calm his rapid, running thoughts. Trying to close off this side himself he’s never met. Who even was this Zeb? Since when was he so concerned about someone touching him?
This felt different than some kind of victory gesture, or even survival. It felt vulnerable. Something Zeb wasn’t very familiar with. He knows how to be tough, and how to put up a face and a fight, but finding moments to show people himself was far and few in-between. Let alone with someone he considered an enemy.
Kallus’ move felt like an action of choice rather than necessity.
Zeb decided to reciprocate this feeling by resting his head on Kallus’ shoulders. He jumped slightly, but didn’t fight nor say anything. All he did in response was slowly rest his head on top of Zeb’s.
He didn’t know if this was the exhaustion speaking or something he was just beginning to feel. The latter seemed more viable. And it was… kind of awkward. At first anyway. The two began to get familiar with each other’s touch. It was comforting knowing someone else was with Zeb on this desolate moon. Slowly, the feeling of vulnerability became less uncomfortable and increasingly mutual.
Even though Kallus was a hard lined agent of the Empire, he seemed gentle in that moment. Just as vulnerable as Zeb was feeling. He wasn’t even familiar with these kinds of feelings, let alone someone else reciprocating them. While Zeb’s feelings were unusual for him, they also weren’t unwelcome. They didn’t know how long they were going to be stuck on this moon. For all he knew it could be rotations, something he didn’t know if he and Kallus could survive. This exposure felt justified, Zeb finally reasoned with himself.
Zeb could feel Kallus relaxing above him, his body slowing itself to sleep. Zeb himself was beginning to grow drowsy. However, Kallus decided to let one more phrase slip his lips before accepting sleep.
“Thank you, Zeb.”
Those words stuck with him, one thing that was highlighted in Zeb’s memory of that night. Thank you Zeb. Kallus becoming Fulcrum only proved that he really meant them. While Zeb understood he had shown Kallus something, he didn’t fully understand what. Zeb knew that he helped change Kallus’ mind on the Empire after learning about his new secret identity, but he still struggled to figure out what ultimately changed his mind. Kallus had so much working for the Empire, and now he’s suddenly realized their hypocrisy.
The scenery of Atollon was nothing like the moon, but the gentle wash of night was enough to let him reminisce. Even though Zeb still needed time to sink in that Kallus was Fulcrum, the feeling of Kallus next to him was something his mind still couldn’t shake. It was something he wasn’t used to. And the thing Zeb refuses to address was if he wants to feel it again.
And he knows that answer.
Zeb shook his head, snapping himself out of his deep thoughts. I need to reel myself back, he told himself. I’m here for the Rebel cause, for something I believe in.
And not for a chance to see Kallus again.
Zeb groaned, rubbing his face and slumping in his seat. He needs to sleep. He doesn’t know what tomorrow is going to bring him or the other rebels.
He adjusts himself, finally finding a comfortable spot to lay, and then wraps his arms around himself. He shuts his eyes, trying to surrender to the subtle feeling of exhaustion. Don’t think of him, he repeats.
His head on top of his own. The warmth of his body.
Don’t think of him.
His unusually gentle demeanor. The fact he joined the rebels because of him.
Thank you Zeb.
- - -
“Zeb, are you okay?”
“Karabast!” Zeb jolted from his seat, and turned around to see Hera, looking slightly concerned. “I’m okay,” he reassured, recognizing Hera’s anxiety. “Just couldn’t sleep.”
“I was worried someone got on our ship. I’m glad it’s only you,” Hera relaxes, gently smiling.
“Sorry for worrying you Hera,” Zeb gets up, back sore from the uncomfortable seat, and stretches. She gently shakes her head to let Zeb know she isn’t upset.
“Just make sure you’re ready for the day,” she says before heading out of the bridge back to her own room with the metal door closing behind her as evidence.
Zeb headed back to his own room, not wanting to spend any more time lingering in the cockpit. Hera was right; there was a day to begin and an Empire to defeat.
Behind closed doors, he relaxed for a moment, leaning against his door and closing his eyes. As if on cue, his thoughts from last night began to trail into the new day. Fulcrum. The night on the ice moon. Zeb’s feelings about him.
Pull yourself together, he ordered himself, pulling his back off the wall and hoping that the task of getting himself ready for the day would put his mind off of the previous night.
Instead of being a distraction, Zeb’s feelings found his way to infiltrate into his morning routine, even if there was absolutely no relation. All he could think about was that night, his touch, and his betrayal of the Empire. Because of him.
Zeb only wanted to get through a day without the constant distraction of Kallus in his head. Something that has become increasingly impossible. A regular thought can easily find its way back into Zeb’s overthinking. He hadn’t even begun to unpack his deeper feelings towards him; that one night had already proved itself overwhelming enough. He knew if he found more things to think about than he already does, his already descending focus would hit rock bottom.
This was enough. This was as far as he could go.
Zeb’s day was relatively underwhelming, or at least much more than usual. The rest of the Ghost squad was sent on a training mission that Zeb was told he couldn’t be a part of. While Zeb was slightly hurt by this, he knew what needed to be taken care of at the base and obliged. He spent most of his day with droids, eventually finding an abandoned protocol droid Zeb decided would be a useful rebel companion. Other than that, just another day at Chopper Base.
Zeb made his way to the central command center after being told there was an important message. He didn’t think of it as much; all of the droid drama has kept his mind preoccupied regarding the feelings he’s been avoiding. Even in this moment with his thoughts, Zeb spent his time running through the items that needed to be taken care of at the base.
“Sir, we have a message from Fulcrum,” was what Zeb was greeted with upon entering the command center. Zeb’s focus immediately broke when remembering his personal association with Fulcrum.
But Zeb was able to keep his cool. After all, he was on a duty of business. “Let’s hear it. Put him through.” There were several Fulcrum agents, that doesn’t mean it’s who he thinks it is. Right?
When Fulcrum started by discussing Empire droids, Zeb knew exactly who he was speaking to. Zeb pushed down his feelings before they had a chance to fester. Maybe it’s better that he doesn’t know Zeb’s on the other side of the transmission.
Zeb was able to maintain focus, but barely. He caught on that the droid he found today was an Empire droid, and it was dangerous, but his thoughts also managed to be in another place. Fulcrum left as quickly as he came, but the weight of what Zeb felt sat with him.
It was Kallus. Still continuing to risk his life for the rebels. Because of Zeb.
Zeb finally let his thoughts run on his way to warn the droids about his findings. Fulcrum was undeniable proof that Zeb had a big part to play regarding his turn. Everything felt different after that night. Zeb had befriended someone from the Empire, and the opposite went for Kallus. Both of their eyes were opened, and in more ways than one. Not only had Zeb learned more about those groomed by the Empire, he felt emotions he hadn’t had time to even think about. And in the middle of a rebellion nonetheless.
Why did one person, one moment, suddenly change everything? Zeb knew he had been acting different ever since the ice moon incident. He had been much more quiet, and a little more thoughtful. Of course, he still was the same old Zeb, but he had taken a step back. Most of the missions the rebels took put more stress on Hera, Kanan, or Ezra, which gave Zeb more time on his own; something he needed after his world was rocked.
Zeb recognized the storage containers, knowing he was near the droids. Focus.
This has nothing to do with Fulcrum.
Chopper Base lived to see another day.
After an elaborate incident with trying to remove the Imperial droid from rebel territory, Zeb and the other droids were able to bring it back to the Empire with an additional explosive surprise. Fulcrum praised the team for their work, leaving Zeb satisfied. He was happy to have a moment where his thoughts weren’t constantly distracted. With the Ghost squad having returned, things began to settle down for the night.
Even though he spent a nice evening relaxing with the other rebels, Zeb wasn’t ready to spend agonizing hours alone, having the same moment stuck on repeat in his mind. There was still gentle bustle in the Ghost, so he felt alright to spend some time outside with the ship.
Zeb sat in the rust-colored sand, legs sprawled out in front of him, watching the remaining speckles of sunset grace the horizon. While the majority of sky was painted a rich navy, there were still amber remnants as a reminder of the early evening.
Although his external demeanor seemed serene, his mind was stuck in a windy, white snowstorm, and his thoughts slammed the ground like violently falling snowflakes. Why did he decide to become Fulcrum? Do I want to see him again? How does Kallus feel about me?
That last one was new.
Zeb knew Kallus had some amount of respect towards him; he proved it by not killing him. But how deep that respect ran was a whole new issue to explore. The more Zeb thought about Kallus, the more he began to respect the way he was treated. Most Imperial agents would have found some way to try to kill a Lasat. And not only was Zeb a Lasat, he was also a high target rebel. But instead, Kallus picked his battle against nature rather than a battle that felt insignificant in the face of survival. And in turn the two learned more about each other than most knew.
Alone in the moment, Zeb realized maybe he does want what happened with Kallus again. Not with the high stakes survival motive, but something natural. It’s something Zeb doesn’t want to accept, especially with how unlikely it would happen. He fights the urge to create any kind of comforting fantasies, as that would only leave him even more distracted than he already is. As much as he would like to let his mind fully wander, he knows it isn’t the best idea.
But… Zeb isn’t known for making incredibly guided decisions. Even though his discipline has brought him this far, something in the back of his head is telling him to break it. To let his mind go.
Zeb closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath.
Hugging Kallus if he ever sees him again. Most likely in private. Letting his hands rest above his waist and settling his face into his shoulders. Being held back. Just feeling Kallus’ presence again would be enough. Being in the same space with him. Hugging Kallus, even if it’s for gratitude. Hugging Kallus.
Then-
No. No, no, no. That’s somewhere Zeb isn’t ready to mentally go yet. He pushed himself too far already.
His eyes peel open to meet a gentle royal blue sky, scattered with stars. Imagining Kallus was with him.
Zeb took in a breath. He was tired. He was letting his thoughts go too far just because of the stressful events of the day. He just needed to sleep.
He pulled himself up from the ground, locking eyes with the night sky. Kallus had spent so much time gracing Zeb’s thoughts he hadn’t wanted to think about what it would be like if he was there. It would be impossible, yes, but something Zeb now knew he wanted.
He wanted to see Kallus again.