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illness
Ezra wakes up to illness. He can feel it in his throat, desert dry and scratchy; in his limbs, a thousand pounds each and aching - his sinuses are congested, too and his eyes are itchy. The ceiling blurs above him and he groans, closing his eyes again and rolling over, pulling the blankets tighter around him as he goes.
It's been a long time since he's gotten sick, and he feels miserable. He hopes Hera doesn't have anything planned for him today - he doubts he'll be able to motivate himself to get out of bed. Groaning again, he tucks himself further into the blankets and quickly falls back asleep.
He's up again sometime later, slow to consciousness and unsure what woke him until he feels Kanan's Force signature wrapped around his own. He hadn't realized before, but his connection to the Force is loose and fluid, now, his emotions flowing in and out of it without active thought. It's probably what's brought Kanan to him, a mixture of misery and exhaustion floating through their bond.
"Hey, kiddo," Kanan says, soft and quiet, sending a wave of calm over their bond.
"Hm?" Ezra rolls over to face him, but his eyes stay closed. He's not really fully awake, and doesn't want to be.
"You woke me up. What's going on?" Kanan asks, and Ezra feels his hand against his forehead, then moving to brush over his hair. Kanan blows out air in a silent whistle. "You're burning up, kiddo."
Ezra hums again, and Kanan laughs softly. "Yeah, okay," he says, "come on, let's go."
Ezra wakes up a little more at that, making a noise of protest at the thought of moving.
"Relax," Kanan tells him, and then his hands are underneath Ezra, fingers cool against his fever-warm skin, and he slides Ezra off the bed, taking him and the blankets into his arms.
Ezra falls into Kanan's chest, face tucked into the fabric at his shoulder. Kanan's warm and comfortable, and Ezra fades out again almost immediately, only to come back around when he's put down, in Kanan's room, he recognizes.
It's instantly much cooler without Kanan pressed against him, and he reaches out for him, both physically and in the Force. Their connection is stronger now than usual, thanks to Ezra's lowered defenses and the steady flow of comfort Kanan's been sending.
Kanan's hand comes back to his forehead for a moment before he runs his fingers through Ezra's hair.
“It’s okay," Kanan tells him. “I’m just gonna get you some medicine and a water."
Ezra settles down at that, at the reassuring weight of Kanan's hand on his head, and when Kanan leaves the room, his Force signature wraps around Ezra like another blanket, something soft and familiar, and in his fuzzy state of consciousness it's almost like he's still there.
Ezra's nearly asleep again when the bed dips, Kanan's hand back in his hair. "You gotta sit up a little," he says, and he helps Ezra up enough so that he can swallow the pills Kanan hands him, chases them with half the glass of water Kanan pushes at him.
"Alright, back to bed," Kanan says, after he's put the glass on the table by the bed. He helps Ezra back down, tucking the blankets up around his chin and smoothing a hand over his head.
Kanan makes to leave, then, and a quick moment of panic sweeps through Ezra. Kanan blinks at him.
"What's wrong?" he asks, shifting into a more comfortable position on the edge of the bed.
Ezra makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, and he pulls Kanan's Force signature closer around him.
"Stay?" Ezra asks, and does his best to send him the feeling of security that comes with Kanan, the relief at knowing there's someone there to look after him.
Kanan sighs, a heavy, almost hurt sound. "Okay," he says, and gently pushes Ezra closer to the wall. He lays down next to him, wrapping an arm around Ezra and holding him to his chest. He doubts Ezra can tell how strongly he's projecting, but the desire to be taken care of, to be close to someone, is strong enough to feel like his own.
Ezra sinks into it, finds immediate comfort when he's wrapped up like this. He feels safe, a hazy memory of his mother's warm soup and gentle hands from years ago fluttering at the edges of his mind, and he falls quickly back to sleep.
for warmth
Coming into the small hotel is the first time they've been out of the cold and snow since this mission started. Kanan stamps the snow from his boots and shakes it off his coat, ushers Ezra further into the room and works on helping him get his layers off.
Everything Ezra's wearing is borrowed - Hera's hat and scarf land on the floor, and Kanan's thick jacket joins them. Ezra's still shivering, but the two of Kanan's long-sleeves he's wearing have been kept dry by the coat, so Kanan lets him keep them on.
"How you doing, kiddo?" Kanan asks as he turns to hang up their jackets behind the door.
"Fine," Ezra says, folding the excess fabric of the sleeves over his hands and crossing his arms tightly across his chest.
"Get under the covers," Kanan tells him. "You'll warm up faster."
Ezra hums and Kanan hears the blankets on the bed shift a moment later. Kanan finishes picking up their clothes so they'll be dry by the morning, and when he turns around, Ezra's got the sheets tucked around his fists, pulled over his shoulders and up under his chin. He's curled up around himself, knees tucked to his chest and shivering a little.
Kanan shakes his head, sighs. Ezra's dealt with cold before, he knows, but the cold on this planet seeps through jackets and into bones, an exhausting kind of chill Kanan wishes Ezra was more equipped to deal with. He's still too thin, despite Kanan's best efforts, and he's still too afraid they're going to leave him behind if he complains, if he doesn't succeed at the tasks they give him.
“Okay, kiddo," Kanan says, and he’s at the bed a moment later, sliding his hands underneath Ezra, pushing him over to make enough room to lay down next to him. The movement jostles Ezra out of his little ball, but he's too tired and too cold to move himself again.
The bed shifts, and when Kanan lifts the blankets to get underneath, a wave of cold air seeps through and Ezra yelps, although it sounds more like a half-hearted groan.
"Relax," Kanan says, and Ezra can hear the smile. "You'll warm up soon enough."
Ezra makes a disapproving sound in response, not awake enough to reply beyond that. Kanan's immediately brought warmth with him, and Ezra rolls over in search of it. He ends up laying on top of Kanan, toes shoved under Kanan's legs and nose pressed into the side of his neck.
"Force, you're freezing," Kanan laughs, the movement of his chest jostling Ezra a little, and his arms come around Ezra's back, holding Ezra against him, palms wide and warm through the shirts.
“It’s cold," Ezra says, sleep slurred and mostly muffled by Kanan's shirt.
"Yeah, yeah," Kanan agrees. He tucks the blankets tighter around them, holds Ezra tighter to his chest. Ezra's skin really is ice cold, even though all the layers he’d been wearing.
"Go to sleep," he tells Ezra, who's already more than halfway there. He's stopped shivering, though, for which Kanan is glad. "You'll be warmer in the morning."
Ezra hums, and Kanan can't tell if he actually says words or not, but Ezra's breathing evens out a moment later, and Kanan can feel the calmness of sleep seep through their bond.
He wants to shake his head at Ezra’s decisions. They could’ve gone in sooner if Ezra had just told him he was so cold; he wishes it was easier to convince Ezra that he isn't on his own anymore, and that he can tell Kanan he’s too cold or too tired to keep going without any reprimand.
Kanan sighs and pulls Ezra closer, happy that his toes aren't like ice cubes against Kanan's legs anymore. He yawns, exhaustion catching up with him rather suddenly, and he falls asleep with Ezra's hair tickling his nose.
injury
They're on Phoenix Home for maybe five minutes before Kanan comes down from the adrenaline high, and he crashes hard. He sways a little where he stands, reaches out to steady himself against the wall, and then Hera's next to him, hand against his chest and arm around his waist.
"To the medbay for you, love," she tells him, and he nods. Medication sounds like great idea - everything has started to hurt at once, and he knows it's only going to get worse.
"Ezra," he says, and he feels Hera stiffen. She points at Ezra and jerks her head.
"You, too," she says. "Medbay, come on."
He dutifully follows them without complaint, and Hera's frown deepens.
"What happened?" she asks them. "And don't tell me you're fine."
Kanan flashes back to Tarkin's floating torture device, to the Grand Inquisitor, to watching Ezra fall, and he has no idea where to start.
"My stay with the Empire was as comfortable as I had expected," Kanan tells her, and she sighs. "We seem to have caught the attention of Grand Moff Tarkin."
"Tarkin interrogated you?" she says, anger spiking quick and strong.
"Interrogated is a nice way to put it," Kanan says. "The Grand Inquisitor was a frequent guest."
"He caught us during the escape," Ezra adds. Hera expression darkens.
"What aren't you telling me?" she asks, though it sounds more like demand.
Kanan thinks of the variety of ways he could say this, and they're each too emotionally charged. He opens his mouth but shakes his head and says nothing. Hera's face softens.
"I fell," Ezra tells her, although he's looking at Kanan. "Knocked me out for a bit, and Kanan fought the Inquisitor."
Ezra rests a hand on Kanan's shoulder for a moment, and Hera's starting to put the pieces together.
They come to the medbay before she can ask any more questions. Hera and Ezra help Kanan to sit on one of the beds, and Hera pushs Ezra down next to him.
The med droid comes over, then, and Hera steps out of the way. She doesn't want to leave yet - doesn't want to until she at least knows they're okay - but an urgent comm from Sato pulls her away.
The longer Kanan's awake the more exhausted he's becoming, pain both physical and mental. His bond with Ezra is thrown open wide, a loop of fear and pain and comfort between them, and he's losing the ability to determine which feelings belong to who.
"Him first," Kanan tells the droid, who looks at him for a calculating moment before beginning Ezra's bioscan. Ezra's getting tired - an adrenaline crash, no doubt - and he sways into Kanan a few times, eventually settling in with his head on Kanan's shoulder.
"You have sustained a minor concussion," the droid says, "and four fractured ribs. There is also minor bruising on the shoulder, arm, and hip. I will prepare a bacta patch as well as pain reduction medication. An overnight stay is required for all concussion victims."
Relief floods through Kanan. Considering he thought Ezra's fall had been fatal, his injuries are fairly mild. He wraps an arm around Ezra's waist and holds him closer, turning to press a brief kiss to his temple.
The droid turns to him, next, and it takes longer to get his diagnosis.
"Moderate to severe bruising on the wrists and ankles," it announces. "Muscle fatigue and evidence of electrical shock detected. You will be required to stay for additional monitoring."
Kanan had figured such. The droid moves away, then, to prepare their treatment.
"Are you okay?" he asks Ezra, looking down at him. Ezra nods.
"Mostly just tired," he says. "But breathing too deep kind of hurts. What about you?"
Kanan rubs Ezra's arm, considering for a moment how much of the truth to tell Ezra. But they've been through too much, their bond too open for him to tell him anything less.
"I'll be okay," he tells Ezra. "Could have been worse," he adds, though he's not really talking about himself.
The droid comes back to them, bacta patch and pain meds in hand.
"You will have to lay down. Laying on the injured side will speed the healing process," it tells Ezra, who nods and shifts, basically collapsing on the bed behind Kanan with a soft groan. Kanan moves, makes to stand to get out of the way, but Ezra grabs his wrist and Kanan stills. He turns, and for a moment they sit like that, Kanan looking at Ezra looking at their hands.
"Please - just...stay?" Ezra says, hesitant like he expects Kanan to say no. Kanan, who doubts he'll be able to let Ezra out of his sight for the next week, at least.
"Of course," Kanan tells him, swings his legs up onto the bed and sits with his back against the pillows. Ezra shuffles next to him until his head is resting on Kanan’s stomach, and Kanan runs his fingers through Ezra's hair as the droid works around them.
"Concussion victims must be woken every thirty minutes," it tells them, as it gives both Ezra and Kanan pain relievers.
"I'll get him up," Kanan says, and he feels Ezra shake his head.
"You should sleep, too," he says, and Kanan bites back a sigh. He really shouldn't sleep.
"No," he tells him, "I don't - I can't sleep right now. I'll be fine."
Ezra makes a disbelieving noise but settles down, anyway, and between one blink and the next he's passed out. Kanan looks down at him, keeping up the light brushing through his hair, and feels the same relief from before. He had been so certain - so certain - and yet here they are, alive and mostly well. It'll be a while before that really sinks in, Kanan knows, but he wraps Ezra's Force signature around himself and lays back against the pillows, this moment of calm a welcome respite from cloud of chaos that's been following him for days.
nightmare
Ezra jerks suddenly awake, the return to consciousness like falling off a cliff. He thinks he might have been yelling - his throat is sore and scratchy. He sits up, breathing heavily, and when he reaches up to run his hands over his face, they come away wet with tears.
Before he can do anything but look at his hands in confusion, Kanan bursts through the door. He’s breathing like he sprinted here, and his eyes, unusually left uncovered, dart sightlessly around the room.
“Ezra?” he says, panic thick in his voice and in their bond.
“I’m here,” Ezra says, shifts to slide off his bunk and stands in front of Kanan. He grabs one of Kanan’s hands and guides it to his shoulder.
Most of the tension immediately drains out of Kanan, and he brings up his other hand, running them over Ezra’s shoulders, cupping his face.
“Are you okay?” he asks, smoothing a hand over Ezra’s now shorter hair. Ezra frowns.
“I’m fine. Are you?”
Kanan shakes his head. “I - you - “ Kanan starts, and stops himself. He had woken up to a wicked fear that wasn’t his own, a sadness soul deep and crushing, and then pain, sharp and quick. And then Ezra had called out for him, a wrecked cry that broke on the syllable, and Kanan doesn’t think he’s moved so fast in his life.
“Oh,” Ezra says. “Must have been a nightmare.” That would explain his throat, his tears. He thinks back to the moment he woke up, tries to remember what happened -
Reklam Station is falling out of the sky, speeding through the clouds towards the ground Ezra can’t see but knows is there, quickly approaching. He’s lost, alone, terrified - he squeezes his eyes closed, tries to pretend he isn’t here, this isn’t how it’s supposed to end - he doesn’t know what to do -
“Kanan!” he yells, or maybe doesn’t; he can barely hear his thoughts over the wind that’s rushing past his ears. “Kanan!”
He’s searching the Force for him, their bond so weak, flickering and fading, and he finds nothing but darkness, loneliness creeping over him and sucking him under. Of course he won’t come, says a wicked voice at the back of his head, why would he? It’s your fault he’s blind, how could he ever forgive you?
The wind steals his tears before they even hit his cheeks. His chest aches - “Kanan!” he yells again, voice breaking over it -
A sharp tug on his bond with Kanan brings him abruptly back to the present, gasping and shaking and disoriented.
"Ezra! Ezra," Kanan's saying, repeating his name, and Ezra backs away, shaking his head with his hands over his ears.
"No," Ezra cries, "stop! Get away from me!"
Kanan's hands grasp at nothing. "Ezra, what - "
There's so much pain, so much guilt pouring into their bond, flooding it, and Kanan doesn't know what to do. He tries to send as much calm to Ezra as he can, burying his own fear at whatever's got Ezra so worked up.
"Ezra, it's me," he says, taking a step towards Ezra. "Come on, kiddo, it's me, I'm right here."
Ezra chokes on his sob. "No you're not," he says, "I'm not going to fall for it anymore!"
"Ezra! Ezra listen to me - " Kanan reaches out to him, wraps his hands around Ezra's wrists and tugs him closer, holding his hands to his chest.
Ezra wrenches against his grip, wiggling and twisting to get away. "No! No, let me go!"
Kanan searches for their bond again, pours everything he has into it as he pulls Ezra to him, wrapping his arms tight around him to keep him still.
"Listen to me, Ezra. Listen to my voice, to my heartbeat. You're okay, you're awake, we're on the Ghost, I'm real, I'm right here."
Breathe, he sends through their bond, breathe, it's okay, I love you, just breathe.
Ezra collapses against him between one shuddering breath and the next, as if someone cut the strings holding him up. He curls his fists into the fabric of Kanan's shirt, pushes his face into Kanan's chest.
Kanan lets out a relieved sigh. "There you are," he says, soft, readjusts his hold to support Ezra's weight. "What's going on?"
Ezra shakes his head a little. "I don't - " he starts, muffled by Kanan's shirt. "I can't - " He presses himself closer to Kanan.
"Okay, it's okay," Kanan tells him. "Let's just go back to bed for now, yeah?"
Ezra nods, but he doesn't move an inch. Kanan sighs, something sad and a little fond, and he finds Ezra's hands, still fisted in his shirt, and wraps his own hands around them, pulling them off. Ezra makes a noise, but Kanan hushes him, keeping their hands together.
"Come on," he says, tugs Ezra along to his own room, Ezra's grip on Kanan's hand white-knuckled tight. He ushers Ezra in until they get to the bed, listens to the shifting of the blankets as Ezra lays down.
"I need you to let go of my hand, kiddo," Kanan says, voice still so soft, so careful, like he'd startle Ezra if he spoke too loud. It takes a moment, but Ezra does let his hand go, and Kanan stands for a moment beside the bed, feeling a little lost. He debates going to get a glass of water, but he doubts Ezra would be willing to let him.
He sits down on the edge of the bed, scrubs a hand over his face and rests his elbows on his knees. He'd known Ezra had been having nightmares - had been since they brought him aboard the Ghost. He just hadn't realized the shift, the intensity, and he shakes his head at how long it took him to notice.
Ezra shifts behind him and Kanan pulls himself out of his thoughts, lays down next to Ezra, who plasters himself against Kanan almost immediately.
"Okay, kid," Kanan says, wrapping an arm around Ezra's shoulders as he wraps his Force signature around Ezra's. He wants Ezra to talk, to explain to him what happened, but he doesn't want to push him, so he sits in silence, keeping Ezra wrapped in as much comfort and love as he can manage.
"It's you," Ezra says some time later, muffled by Kanan's shoulder. His got his head on Kanan's chest, ear over his head, and a hand curled into Kanan's shirt.
"Hm?" Kanan raises an eyebrow, runs his fingers through Ezra's hair.
"My - my nightmares. Sometimes I'm on Reklam Station and sometimes I'm at the base and sometimes I'm on the Ghost, but - but they're always about you."
His voice is quiet but it's steady, and Kanan's glad that he's calmed down some.
"Sometimes you never - sometimes you never show up. I look for you and I call and call and you never - " Ezra cuts himself off with a sharp breath, the hand around Kanan's shirt flexing a little as he struggles with his emotions, guilt and fear and sadness seeping into their bond. Kanan holds him closer.
"Other times you do show up, but you're - you hate me. You hate me for what happened on Malachor, and for what a failure I turned out to be, and..."
"Ezra," Kanan breathes, presses a kiss to Ezra's hairline. "I would never."
"I know that," Ezra says, "but it's just - it's so real." He's losing his composure again, Kanan realizes, voice cracking. "How can you not?" he whispers, so quietly Kanan almost doesn't hear it, and Kanan's chest squeezes.
"Easy," Kanan says, cradling the back of Ezra's head. "I love you. Always will."
Ezra presses tighter to Kanan. "Love you too," he says, quiet like Kanan won't want to hear it.
"Good," Kanan says with a quick smile. "Just wanted to check."
Ezra lets out a huff that sounds vaguely like laughter. "I'm sorry about - about all of that," he says, and Kanan shakes his head.
"Don't be. You shouldn't keep all that to yourself, it's not good for you."
"Okay, dad," Ezra says, and there's definitely a laugh this time. He settles in against Kanan's side, exhaustion seeping through their bond. "Love you," he says, sounding already half asleep. Kanan presses his face to Ezra's hair, takes a deep breath.
"Love you, too, kiddo."
plus one
They settle down for the night on makeshift cots in the cave, mostly tucked against the side wall to shield them from the night winds.
Ezra watches Kanan from his cot. He's sitting at the mouth of the cave, a meditation pose - he's not meditating, Ezra can tell, but he is lost in thought. His right hand makes circles in the dirt by his side, drawing shapes and patterns Ezra's sure won't actually look like anything outside Kanan's mind.
It's late and Ezra's fading fast, drained emotionally and physically, and he knows as soon as he lays down he'll be out like a light. But he watches Kanan a moment longer, wants for him to also get some sleep, but even with the barest hint of Kanan's emotions seeping through the barriers of their bond Ezra knows sleep will be a long time coming for Kanan tonight.
Something brings Ezra back to consciousness maybe five minutes or five hours later, wakes him up slowly and then all at once, and it takes him a disoriented moment to realize it's Kanan, nudging him through their bond.
He does his best to ask a question, but he's still too wrapped up in sleep for it to be more than a simple feeling of confusion he pushes at Kanan.
Come here, Kanan sends, but it's not the words that get Ezra up and awake - it's the feeling that comes with them, a combination of something sad and something lonely and something else entirely lost, a feeling Ezra know well but one that feels so unfamiliar coming from Kanan's end of their bond.
Ezra picks his way to Kanan, who, Ezra realizes with a sigh, is still sitting at the edge of the cave, face towards the dark sky. He sits down beside him, looks at him carefully.
"What's wrong?" Ezra asks, soft in the silence of the night.
Kanan shrugs. "I'm worried," he admits, and Ezra's not surprised. Kanan's always worried about them.
"We're okay," Ezra tells him, "I'm okay. Sabine and Zeb are okay. Hera's a fighter - she'll be okay until we can get her."
Kanan sighs, and it's heavy, bone-weary, and Ezra's concern ratchets up a notch. "I'm not - it's not - " he tries, cuts himself off and blows out a breath. "I'm not okay," he tells Ezra, almost a whisper, as if he's afraid to admit it.
What? Ezra almost asks, but he heard him just fine. Why? Ezra wants to ask, but he doubts Kanan could really explain it, even if he wanted to.
So instead Ezra doesn't say anything, simply wraps an arm around his back and opens up their bond enough to offer, to remind Kanan that they're in this together.
Kanan immediately leans into Ezra, face buried in his neck, and Ezra tramples down his spike of fear when he realizes Kanan is shaking, even if only a little.
"I'm not - " he starts, voice wobbling too much to continue. He takes a deep breath that shudders in time with his shoulders, but he doesn't try to talk again. He doesn't need to - he's projecting enough of his emotions for Ezra to get it, and get it he does. How many times, Ezra wonders, has he felt the same thing, has he sent the same feelings across their bond. He's flashing back to every moment Kanan was there when he reached out, every time Kanan was there to keep him together. Ezra pulls Kanan into a tighter hug.
"You don't need to be," Ezra tells him. He thinks about all the times Kanan offered comfort to him, about the things he would say or do. "You don't have to carry this by yourself."
Kanan's shaking his head, back and forth against Ezra's shoulder. "I don't - I don't know what's going to happen."
"We never do," Ezra tells him, and Kanan huffs.
"This is different," he says, "this is - this is something - I can feel it coming." He takes a breath. "And I'm terrified."
In one sudden moment of clarity Ezra sees all those other times from Kanan's point of view, feels the helplessness grip his heart and wonders briefly how Kanan could do it over and over again.
"Hey," Ezra says, pushes Kanan off him enough to stand. "Come on." He takes Kanan's hands, pulls him up off the ground and guides him over to his cot, where Ezra sets him down and leaves him for a moment to retrieve his own cot, sliding it as quietly as he can across the sandy floor until it's tucked up next to Kanan's.
Kanan looks lost like he hasn't since the ride back to base from Malachor, when Ezra took off that old Temple mask and Kanan's wide, white eyes saw nothing but darted around anyway, like maybe if he simply looked in the right direction he'd be able to see again.
Ezra sits down next to Kanan with a quiet, sad sigh, his heart heavy in his chest. Kanan tilts his head, and Ezra tries to project less of this ache he's feeling, because it's not him who needs the comfort this time.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Ezra offers, though he suspects he already knows the answer.
Kanan shakes his head. "I don't think I could. It's so - complicated."
Ezra reaches for Kanan, squeezes his shoulder, and Kanan sways into him.
"Okay," Ezra says. "You don't have to. Just - maybe lay down for a little while?"
Kanan nods and then Ezra's shifting them, his head propped on a pillow made of a wadded up jacket and Kanan's head on his chest, over his heart. Kanan's hairtie has come loose, and Ezra carefully runs his fingers through Kanan's hair.
"'m sorry," Kanan mumbles, and Ezra stills his movements for a moment.
"Don't be."
Kanan shakes his head a little. "I didn't want to wake you, but I didn't - I didn't want to be alone."
Ezra wraps his Force signature around Kanan's, shoves his own hurt down and instead does his best to send Kanan all the support, the love, the comfort he can. "You're never alone," Ezra tells him. "I'd rather you wake me."
"Thank you," Kanan says, muffled against the fabric of Ezra's shirt. Ezra rests his hand on Kanan's back, lets his eyes close.
"Any time," Ezra says, and means it with every fiber of his being. "Now try to get some sleep."
Kanan chuckles, something Ezra feels more than hears. "Okay, kiddo," he says, and Ezra can imagine the little smile that's most likely on his face. "Love you."
"Love you, too," Ezra says, soft, and stays awake, staring at the ceiling of the cave and running gentle fingers through Kanan's hair until he feels Kanan fall asleep, the tense chords in their bond fading a little as he drops off, and Ezra sighs deeply, happy to have at least given Kanan this moment of peace, to have returned in some way the comfort Kanan has given him so many times.