Chapter Text
Grief is a weird thing. First she lost Kanan, the love of her life, and it physically hurt her heart and it felt as if she got more and more fatigued as the weeks went by; she thinks perhaps this is also partially the effects of the torture she endured that day, the electricity messing with her rhythms, it wasn’t a shock it had delayed her period too. The intense emotions that she had to try her hardest to mellow out, the off-ness of her body, and the endless tiredness became the normal in her grief, but the Rebellion must go on and Hera had a job to do.
The grief for Ezra hit her differently. A boy almost like a son to her. Gone. Self-sacrificed. A martyr. Just like Kanan. The pain was different, but it hurt just as much. The Ghost was quiet, Sabine spending most time between missions painting silently around the ghost, Zeb trying to lighten the mood where he can (but his heart was never in it), Chopper bored without Ezra to harass or to pull pranks with/on, Hera delving into work and focussing on little else. After the liberation on Lothal, Kallus officially moved in on the Ghost at Zeb’s request, and even he seemed to be struck by the loss of Ezra, but he did what he could to help the spectres.
Grief was weird. Numbness, heartbreak, mood swings, fatigue, brain fog. And now, here Hera is, throwing up from grief too, for the third day in a row. She could hardly keep anything down and everything ached. She sat there on the fresher floor waiting for another wave, only getting up when a few minutes had passed without one, before stumbling to the Ghost’s kitchenette and sitting at the table. She hadn’t noticed Kallus and Chopper’s presence in the room until the former placed a cup of tea in front of her, and the latter pushing a long white box next to it.
“What’s this?”
“The tea is ginger, it helps with nausea, I asked AP-5 to get it from base storage yesterday.” Kallus told her very non-chalantly, as if he hadn’t just told Hera he knew she was throwing up so much that he decided nausea cures were necessary. Hera stared at it. The spectres had always been good at helping each other without being asked, so why did this make her feel weak and vulnerable? Maybe because it was Kallus helping her after everything he had done in the empire. Maybe it was he because he noticed and didn’t let it go. He was as hyper-observant as he was a do-er. Either way, an unreasonable part of her felt annoyed and it showed in her response.
“Why? How does this even help?”
“Because I know you’ve been being sick a lot the past few days, Chopper confirmed that to me, and ginger reduces nausea, it was something often drunk back home when medicine wasn’t an available.” That made sense, though she couldn’t imagine a situation where someone like Kallus would go without, but it conjured an imagine of a young boy drinking tea for a poorly tummy or a brewing it for family member, it was a warm image.
“Thank you” She sipped to show her appreciation before looking down again and remembering the other item “What’s in the box, Chop?” Which was followed by a string of beeps that amounted to ‘I don’t know’, Hera looked to Kallus with an eyebrow raised.
“I know you know yourself better than I could so I may be off base, but I, well…” He took a moment to think and form what he was going to say next carefully “In a past life... prior to joining the imperial academy, I have seen the symptoms you’re currently expressing too often to not at least bring it up.”
“Kallus, what is it?” She was tired of him beating around the bush.
“It’s a pregnancy test.”
“A what.”
“You heard me.”
“But that’s impossible” the final syllable drawn out as Hera thought more, her period still hadn’t come, she was always nauseous, and she was so tired, “Oh.”
“Take it and then either way go to medical.”
“Thank you, Kallus, I… I’ve been so lost honestly since…” She shook her head “So thank you. And you too Chop”
Chopper warbles in response and Kallus nods his head “It is the least I can do.”
---
Hera stared at the two lines, feeling oddly numb, disconnected, as if she isn’t the one pregnant. Feet that don’t feel like her own walk past Kallus again, she places down the test and the feet keeps walking. 8 weeks, the test said, almost as long as Kanan had been gone. Before she knew it, the medical centre was in front of her.
From there, everything continued in a blur. Thankfully the medical personnel on Yavin IV could be discrete. They confirmed her pregnancy, told her that she likely was developing hyperemesis gravidarum and gave her an ultrasound.
For the first time in hours, Hera felt something other than numb. As she looked at the image on the screen beside her, tears fell down her cheeks and it took everything in her to not scream and sob. This was her and Kanan’s baby. Kanan who had sacrificed himself and was dead. Kanan who sacrificed himself for her, for the Spectre’s and now unknowingly for their own child. How could he leave her alone like this? How dare he not be here? The pendulum of her mind swung from overwhelming love and a hatred she couldn’t justify but felt all the same, for both Kanan and the baby.
The nurse sent her a data packet of information about pregnancy (including for half human-half twi’lek babies) and scheduled her in for an appointment in a few weeks, encouraging Hera to come to her if anything felt wrong or if she needed help with telling rebel command before sending her on her way with nausea medicine.
This caused dread to fall to her stomach and allowed for another spiral. She was a general, she was the best pilot the rebellion had, her duty that she was willing to put above her personal feelings, she had to be fit and ready at every turn. Now Hera was faced with a new dilemma: Love or duty? Her child or the Rebellion? In Hera’s eyes, how could she have both?
It was getting dark now and the Ghost was quiet still. Chopper met her as she walked in and grabbed her hand with his cold metal claw. The cold grounded her, she was in her own body again and the day came crashing down. She crouched down and wrapped her arms around the droid, her best friend and constant since she was young, letting herself sob and shake. Chopper beeped a few comforting sounds and begun vibration close to a purr, hoping to sooth. Hera tried to focus on that but the fear and the anger and the love kept flooding in. Another purring sound joined in as large pair of arms engulfed her and Chopper. Zeb.
“Hera” His voice was thick with concern, likely having just walked onto the Ghost and found this just beyond the threshold “Hera, hey, what’s going on?” She turned and faced Zeb and couldn’t get the right words out her mouth. He seemed scared that something horrific had happened, he hadn’t seen her this emotional before. “Hera?”
She needed to collect herself before she could even begin to explain, and she wanted to tell what little was left of Spectre family because, as Chopper continued to hold her hand and Zeb’s look of concern was mixed with a determination to fix whatever had happened, she knew she needed them and that she could rely on them “Can you call everyone in for a Spectre meeting, including Kallus?”
“Of course, gimme a minute to comm ‘em.”
“You go ahead, I need to take a moment with Chop”
Zeb went over towards the ship’s communal area, and Hera turned back to Chopper, “Thank you for being my rock, Chop. Can you promise me something?”
A sassy warble sound is the response she gets, an ‘of course you can’.
“Please don’t go anywhere, don’t let me lose you”
Chopper lets out a string of beeps ‘You’re stuck with me forever, whether you want it or not’
Hera laughs, that’s her droid. “Love you too, Chop”