1 | Star Wars Rebels: Beginning Of The End (completed)

Part 11

Rebel Base, Atollon, 1335, 3278 LY

     Voices drifted to Ezra's mind as he woke up from the darkness of unconsciousness. His first thought: Kanan. How long had it been, how long had he been out? A minute, an hour? He couldn't know until he opened his eyes. The pain of the bond snapping had dulled to a slight throb throughout his body, but that hadn't been the worst part of it. The worst part was why he had been in pain. He lost Kanan's presence, and it could have killed him.

      The bond, Ezra realized, was strong. When some of it had snapped, he realized how much Kanan had become a vital part of him. He realized just how much he needed his Master. Without the older man to guide him and be with him, Ezra wouldn't be who he was. He couldn't live without his Master. And he was going to get him back.

     Against his logical mind, Ezra opened his eyes, then squinted against the harsh light. Once his eyes adjusted, he looked over in the direction of the voices and found Zeb talking to some worried rebels. The Lasat wasn't paying any attention; Ezra could get to Kanan. Trying to preserve most of the energy he had left for Kanan, he began to crawl in the direction o the medbay, occasionally looking back to see if Zeb was following. 

     Step by step, feeling his time getting shorter, Ezra made his way to the medbay, but right at the entrance, he felt something completely lift him off the ground. Flailing his arms, trying to get whatever held him to put him down, he finally looked back into the eyes of a determined Zeb. ''Put me down!'' he hissed, flailing, then went limp to conserve energy.

     Hera looked at the boys, grief in her eyes. Even this close to Kanan, Ezra still couldn't find his Master through the strings of their bond that were left and about to snap. It would hurt for the bond to snap completely, perhaps even kill him. The emptiness inside would kill him if the agony of the broken bond didn't. She whispered, ''Zeb, put him down.''

     That's when Ezra realized the full extent of what was happening. Hera had lost hope, basically telling Zeb to let Ezra say goodbye. There was no way he was saying goodbye to Kanan, not after all they've been through together. Tears threatening to brim over his eyelids, he crawled towards Kanan. He felt a flare in Hera's Force aura, one of confusion and worry. He climbed into the bed, panting a little bit as he lied down. Regaining his composure, he curled up next to Kanan, closing his eyes, grabbing at the diminutive spot that was ever diminishing.

     Ezra opened his eyes to more darkness. ''Kanan!'' he called, looking around. ''Kanan, where are you?'' Nothing, not a whisper of an answer. He needed his Master, he wanted to feel the older man once again. So close to his Master, and yet so far away. Not a glimpse of the one he loved the most since his parents were taken away. His shoulders drooped, despair in his electric blue eyes. ''Kanan, I need you!''

     A small light, growing bigger and bigger. Ezra was about to run away until he realized that it was Kanan, teal eyes glowing in the darkness, his persona surrounded by light. His eyes; in this part of the mind, he still had his eyes. The man stopped in front of him, scowling. ''Ezra, what in the blazes are you doing here?''

     Grabbing Kanan's shoulders, Ezra stared into his Master's shining teal eyes with all the passion he could muster. ''Kanan, I need you. I need you, I can't live without you.'' The older man raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Ezra continued, ''Do you know what it felt like when you left me? Twice? It hurt so bad, physically and emotionally.''

     Kanan grabbed Ezra's hands, concern and curiosity in his eyes. ''It hurt physically? It never did when my Master died. Wait, the bond broke?'' Ezra nodded, grief in his eyes, and his Master embraced him. ''Oh, Ezra, I'm so sorry.'' 

     Ezra clutched at Kanan's shirt, wanting to be closer, as close as he could get after feeling empty for so long. He stifled a sob, a few rogue tears spilling over the brim of his eyelid, running a steady track down his fair-skinned face. ''Please,'' he whispered, his voice quivering, ''please come back.'' 

     Pulling away, Kanan glimpsed at Ezra, eyes full of love. He promised, ''I will.'' His teal eyes glistened with tears, something Ezra hadn't seen since he talked about what the clones had done to his Master. ''I won't leave you again.'' They embraced each other, shifting back to the state of semi-consciousness.

     Hera lied her head in her hand, despair clouding her thoughts. Kanan was going, and she didn't think anything could bring him down. He lived through everything that had happened through Gorse and on, coming out as a stronger Jedi and a stronger man since then. Gorse and Cynda, where they had met. Hera thought he was a drunk gunslinger, and he thought she was an idealistic rebel. 

     The two had been right and wrong about each other. Kanan had fallen in love with Hera and her ship, and she had realized that he was a Jedi or was in training to be a Jedi when he used the Force to save her life. Back then, the Force had shaped them into a ragtag group of rebels; Hera, Kanan, Skelly, and Zaluna Myder. Skelly had died saving the trio's lives, and Hera and Kanan took Zaluna to another world to live in peace, blind. Lord Vidian had died as a result of acid, but he had killed the owners of the mining facility where Kanan had once worked, a mining facility that mined Cydna.

     The Twi'lek pushed her thoughts away as she heard Sabine cry, ''Hera! Kanan's breathing!'' This made her confused and joyous at the same time. Somehow, how?, Ezra had brought Kanan back. Maybe it was their bond at work, maybe it was the Force, but whatever it was, it was outside herself. 

     To Hera's astonishment, Ezra began to climb up on Kanan's chest, curling up in a fetal position. The older man slung an arm over the boy protectively as well as comfortingly. Hera smiled, compassion and joy in her green eyes. This time, she somehow knew that Kanan wasn't leaving. Not on purpose.