Not Even Death

Like Father

"I'm just saying that you need to see this from his perspective," Sabine's blue image says. "He went through a lot, and he has to recover from more than just physical wounds."

"He went through a lot?!" I wave a chocolate-covered meiloorun at the hologram. Thankfully, the medicine Medic Hannapho prescribed has been working. Not-so thankfully, I now crave everything on the ship. "I thought he was dead! For weeks! I grieved him. I had to learn how to live without him."

Sabine frowns sympathetically. "I know how hard that time was for me, and I know that must have been doubly hard for you. You will always have my admiration for your strength."

"And mine," this comes from Ahsoka who has remained quiet through most of the transmission, "but Sabine is still correct. Men are so silly, sometimes. They can be passionate and driven, but that can bring a hard downfall.

"I remember my master was madly in love with a senator named Padme, but you wouldn't guess it by the way they fought. Anakin always said the wrong things or did the wrong things, but he knew when he crossed the line, mostly. Padme didn't go easy on his stupidity, but she was a good listener and quick to forgive."

Sabine smiles softly. "Love isn't accepting a person when they say the things we want to hear when they do everything right. Love is accepting someone when they make mistakes and hurt us. Or," something in Sabine's tone sounds mildly annoyed, "when they plan their death and make you travel halfway to nowhere to find you."

Ahsoka and I raise an eyebrow in unison.

"Okay," I begin slowly, "and with that loaded metaphor, I think I get the picture."

Sabine's cheeks glow warmly in the blue of the hologram.

"Thanks, guys," I say with a small smile. "I know what I have to do."

"Anytime and congratulations," Ahsoka's calm voice carries over the com before the image fades away.

I know what I have to do, but I don't move from my position on the bed. Kanan's accusation cut deep, and the last thing I want right now is to forgive him. After all the pain and grief I felt during the time he was gone, he would still think I was capable of cheating on him?

Another stream of tears lines my cheeks at the thought.

But I take a deep, steadied breath. What would I have thought if I were in Kanan's shoes? I frown. Yeah, I should probably hear him out.

I slowly manage to stand; though, I'm somewhat weak from crying for hours. Several foil wrappers from my chocolate meiloorun binge flutter to the floor in the process.

When I finally reach the door, I hesitate over the access panel.

"I can do this. I love Kanan, and I won't let anything come between us again," I whisper to reassure myself. "Even his own stupid self."

With that, I open the door and set off to find Kanan... almost tripping over him in the process.

"K-Kanan?"

Kanan must have sensed that I was coming because he was able to grab me by the hips before I barreled straight over him as he rests on his knees in the hallway. It's the same position that he uses to meditate, but this time there isn't the usual peacefulness in his eyes from venturing into the force.

Kanan's bottom lip is bruised from his biting, no doubt, which is a habit he only picks up in extremely stressful times. There are trails of fresh tears down his cheeks to match mine, and his hair is wild from combing his hands through the short locks.

"Hera," his voice sounds weak and raw. "I am so sorry."

"Kanan—"

"No," Kanan cuts me off as I quietly lower myself to his level. "It's not okay."

Kanan's scarred hands shake with little tremors as he brings them to my face. "I shouldn't have said all of those things. I do know better. I do know you, Hera." His fingers continue to shake as he strokes them against my cheek.

Now, I'm ugly crying with loud sobs. It's really for the best that Kanan's eyes don't see the trails of snot and tears that streak my face.

"That's okay," and I wipe away his tears.

"No, it's not. It wasn't you that I really doubted in that clinic; it was—" Kanan's chest heaves, "it was me. I was doubting myself."

"Doubting yourself?"

Kanan deflates as he lets his weight fall. "The Jedi didn't have parents. We were taken from our families and raised without attachments. The only parent figure I had was my master, and she sacrificed everything for me."

I pull Kanan's hands from my face as he talks and lay them enclosed in mine on my lap.

"But that was okay, you know? I never had to be a parent to anyone, just a master. That's what I was trained for. I was completely unprepared when Zeb and Sabine showed up and you just accepted them as ours."

"Well, not Zeb so much," I interrupt earning a strange look from Kanan. "He can handle himself," I explain.

Kanan grins at this. "You were a natural, and just when I thought I had the hang of things, Ezra shows up ruining everything I thought I knew," Kanan laughs. "I thought it would be easy to treat him like just a padawan the way I treated Sabine like a soldier, but he's not. He's my son. Just like Sabine is my daughter, and Zeb and Chopper are my family.

"And now," Kanan's voice is barely a whisper, "he's gone, Hera. Ezra followed my example, like always, and he's gone, dragging my family to karabast-knows-where to find him while I sit back helpless."

The Jedi falls silent for a moment, and I think he's finished. I give his hand an encouraging squeeze.

"They will find him," I allow the certainty I feel in my bones to seep in.

"But they shouldn't have to," Kanan says somehow managing to look me in the eye. "If I was a better father, Ezra would still be here."

My heart falls into the pit of my stomach at the brokenness in his words, and I thought he looked broken that day in the med bay.

"Stop talking like that," I urge before gathering Kanan to my chest. "You were exactly who Ezra needed. You were what everyone needed. You were our protector and our leader. You were their father," I plant a kiss on his patchy brown hair, "in your own way."

Kanan's face presses deeper into my chest before he pulls away with red puffy eyes.

"But how do I know if I'll be who they need?" he asks ask his fingertips softly brush my abdomen.

Using one finger, I lift Kanan's chin until we're eye-to-eye. "Just..." I press my lips to his, "be..." and again, "yourself," and again.

Hey! I start classes next week so publishing might get hairy. But! The good news is everything is all typed up; I just have to hit post.