#we were robbed not getting hair down Kanan

[jellyfishforest135]

Sorry if I’m interrupting anything.

Just wanted to say I LOVE your Kanan fanart!

He is GORGEOUS!

Thank you! Kanan is just the prettiest Star Wars boy (to me).

[gffa]

We were robbed of force ghost Depa Billaba meeting Kanan in Rebels

Sometimes I am willing to 100% throw out the established worldbuilding (ie, that you need years and years of training or Anakin’s level of power/ability/Obi-Wan’s helping him to the other side) to even have a chance at becoming a Force Ghost and that no one would have been around to help Depa with it, because LISTEN I WANT DEPA TO LAUGH HER ASS OFF AT CALEB’S ANNOYANCE WHEN DEALING WITH EZRA ASKING A MILLION QUESTIONS. DEPA DESERVED TO GET TO SEE THAT JOY, DAMMIT. BUT ALSO, IMAGINE HOW MUCH WE WOULD HAVE ALL BAWLED LIKE FUCKING BABIES if there had been two ghostly figures in this scene, as the wolf walked towards them.  One with two gentle loops of hair hanging down behind her ears, one tall and broad shouldered figure behind her. Both of them waiting for the wolf to join them, before they all fade away together.

They were waiting for him and now they can go. I would have had to sue Dave Filoni for both emotional and physical attacks, if they’d done that.

[hnwriter]

So I wrote (another) fic.

Hera, debriefing Yavin IV on her mission and Kanan’s death, reflects on her fractured memories and what Kanan means to her.

TW: drugging

There was a lot of of Jedi Night/Dume that I just....wasn’t happy with, so full disclosure, many elements of this are canon divergent. Namely the treatment of Hera’s torture and Kanera--I wanted a story that reflected Hera and the strength of the character I fell in love with and give her back the narrative that I felt she was robbed of within those episodes.

           “General, if this is too strenuous right now—”

           “Senator Organa, I’m fine. Simply—” A heavy sigh escapes her lips, giving her pause to choose her words carefully. “—tired. It’s been busy here on Lothal.” Flashes of blue. Flashes of red. Long silences she doesn’t understand, burning hot. It’s what she has left.

           Hera looks up to the holo of Senator Organa, Senator Mothma, General Ackbar—some of the Alliance’s highest command. They need her debrief.

           They need her.

           She clears her throat again and looks up—maybe, on Yavin IV, they could be thinking how it’s unlike their new General to not speak immediately, purposefully. Maybe.

           Maybe.

           “The IT-O interrogator took most of my memories. I crashed in the streets and ran when I could. There was a bounty hunter I couldn’t outrun—Imperial officers were closing in. Comms were jammed and I couldn’t get online to check on the rest of my squadron. I found one other pilot—he’s still here on Lothal with my crew and Ryder’s forces. His call sign, I don’t—”

           “We understand, General Syndulla.” Mon Mothma’s voice is soft, constant—it’s not exactly personal enough to be comforting but Hera appreciates the leave to continue speaking nonetheless. Focusing between the details of what she can remember feels like grasping for a specific single grain of sand along an entire beach.

           She hates feeling incompetent, incapable.

           She hates not knowing the inside of her own memories more. The pause makes her think of Maul and she grimaces for as long as it takes to remember his eyes peering through her skull, his powers shredding through her consciousness.

           It’s your mind, Hera. Still yours. The self-reassurance feels like a lie but gives her enough comfort to steel herself. Another breath. The General continues.

           “I was captured sometime in the middle of the night by Governor Arhinda Pryce and taken to her personal office where I was—” Flashes of light. Dark rooms. Red eyes. Pain.

           “—interrogated.” Mothma and Organa shift. They know what she means. “I don’t know for how long. Ryder or Ezra Bridger may have a more accurate assessment for you there. Vice Admiral Thrawn was there at some point—I don’t-I don’t remember much of what he says.” Her teeth grit.

           Flashes of blue.

           “My crew assembled a rescue mission for me—Ezra Bridger led it, assisted by Sabine Wren and Kanan Jarrus.” His name is a silver weight on her tongue, binding her teeth together. Her blood runs cold and her breath turns to ice.

          The room is nearly dark and he appears as a bright and electric blue. She can barely walk, barely speak—something holds her up and she’s reminded it’s Kanan when she looks up. He’s everything. She feels nothing.

          “I hate your hair.” He’s oddly calm. His banter is weak. It’s nuance she can’t pick up on because—cold air. They’re out of the office. Suspended. Long way down.

          He’s carrying her—she rests her forehead to his neck and attempts to find a center. It doesn’t come. Cannot come. There’s worry in his gaze when she jumps at every noise. She can’t react. Can’t think. Can’t—flashes.

          She continues.

           “I don’t—remember—much. I know we met the same bounty hunter at some point. We escaped through the same gliders that my crew rode in on—it caught fire at some point—”

           Flying. Cold air through the still wind of Lothal—there’s a parasitic sluggishness that’s invaded her skeleton, rendering half her strength into dead weight. Kanan’s next to her—Kanan—his hair’s different—and she’s flying—and she’s flying—

           The Kalikori is stuck underneath her arm—Kanan got it back—he got it for her. It’s her’s. Not Thrawn’s. There’s a wish lodged between her hijacked consciousness and her past that is reminding her she wanted to add Kanan to it one day. Zeb and Ezra and Sabine and Chopper, too. Her family.

           Crashing. Flying. Falling. Running. Climbing. She’s moving but not thinking—there’s enough of her awake to be horrified of how little she can process but so much of her is smothered she can do nothing but scream within her own head. Scream, thrash, claw, and climb—the poison entangles all of her instincts into a sticky, thickened mess. She’s sinking, sinking, sinking—

           “Kanan—”

           He looks back at her. Green. Gray. Red.

           “Kanan, I love you.” A laugh. The present? The memory?

           “You’re saying that like it’s something I haven’t heard before.” Tremble. Quiver. Fall. He grabs her waist and—that’s not—No, it is Kanan.

           “We landed at the fuel depot and climbed to the top.”

           “Why the fuel depot?” Ackbar asks. “It’s not exactly an easy place to land—"

           “I don’t know. Kanan just said go there. I couldn’t exactly strategize at the time.” Silence from the holocall.

           She continues.

           “I’m saying it because—” Why was she saying it? Why was she speaking? Why were they there? Where was she—

           “Hera, Hera, I know. It’s okay. I love you, too. You’re safe. Look, it’s Ezra and Sabine—” A ship in the distance. Boarding. The kids’ eyes. Sabine is flying. Not her flying. Not her flying—looking for Kanan. He’s still behind—

          “The fuel depot was shot and Kanan held back the explosion with the Force.”

           Red. Hot and burning—fire. Kanan’s eyes. It’s Lothal. It’s Gorse. It’s the first time she realized what he was and realizing now that this is all he’s going to be. It’s fragmented and fractured violently—Ezra is grabbing her—is that Ezra?—and it’s Kanan looking towards her. Sightless eyes that can’t see her and a soul that always did.

           “Kanan!” Why isn’t he moving? Why isn’t he there? She reaches out and it’s Gorse again and it’s the decade they’ve been together and their family and every moment alone. It’s every devotion of love made and the marriage they never needed. Why isn’t he moving closer? Was he already—

           She can’t see him anymore. Only orange. Only white.

           Tears. Sabine’s. Ezra’s. Her’s. Ezra has his arms around her and she looks to the stars.

The horizon of space, the longest friend she’s ever had, runs cold into her bones.

           “He was engulfed in the explosion while Sabine was able to fly away due to his Force push.”

           Sabine is yelling. Ezra is crying. She’s staring out into a horizon. Cold metal slips into her hand. Chopper. Her droid.

           It’s not Kanan.

           Silence echoes like blaster fire from the other end. Her debrief is over. They know the TIE factory is closed. There are no other details she can give—she can’t remember anything else. There’s only a war to win and a death to mourn.

           “Thank you, General Syndulla.” The quiet, patient voice of Senator Organa pulls her eyes to his. “I’m sorry for your loss.” There’s a second tone to his words she hears, and she thinks of his Queen. His wife. She hears exactly what he’s not saying. I know the fear of this loss. I’m sorry you’ve lived it. The pain of the sincerity stings hot in her chest—a decade she’s had with Kanan settle agonizingly in the back of her throat, building to tears she won’t let fall. Ten years of their special, hellfire, warbent happiness entwine around her ribs and in her ears, she hears the crack of her bones.

           “Thank you, Senator Organa. My crew lost a lot—” A husband. A mentor. A father. A partner. A friend. “—but we’ll continue on.”

           Silence again and she looks up to these powerful, brave beings. The blue-based imitation of their real selves cuts in half each other their determination—these are the architects of this Alliance, and the strongest voice in the beating, combined, communal hope every pilot and soldier feel. Each of them has lost. Each of them has been burned by this fire they’re stoking—they’ve each dedicated their lives to this rebellion.

           But, they’ve never not known a life that hasn’t been one of rebellion. It’s not to undermine their worth, but to her knowledge, they’ve never had their lives cut out of the sky. It’s unfair to make this assumption, she knows, but her grief makes it anyways—none of them had built a rebel out of shambles of themselves for the sake of someone else’s livelihood and freedom.

           Kanan had rebuilt his life for the Rebellion that took it. He did not die in vain, she knew it. Hera would not let herself think anything else, would not let his death be useless. But, she sees his lost soul in the lives of every Rebel, and she sees what she knew and what she loved and what she lost.

           He’d given so much. Been so much.

           “My crew and I will be staying on Lothal longer. There’s work that’s to be done and we understand you may not be able to send more forces here. I won’t ask for more, but I ask for the leave to continue our work. We can do good at an impactful level. Lothal has always been a beacon for hope and I won’t see it die.” They look at each other, think it over, but Senator Organa speaks first.

           “Do what you must, General Syndulla. And may the Force be with you.”

           “May the Force be with you.” The holo cuts out and she’s left alone with silence. Chopper who has rarely left her side since Kanan’s death is with Ezra, Sabine, and Zeb now, and she’s happy for that. They need each other.

           The Kalikori sitting across from her next to Kanan’s mask stands as tall as he did. It’s not hard to imagine him leaning on the wall, laughing at Sabine and Ezra bickering, In fact, it’s remarkably easy to see the line of his shoulders and the way his beard shift when he smiles. It takes no effort to see Sabine and Kanan standing at each other, the dark saber in her hand, Kanan’s in his, staring across thousands of years of war and being family nonetheless. Always. In the piece she carved to represent his life, Kanan is playing sabacc with Zeb and yelling after Chopper and sitting in her copilot’s chair again. She can almost reach out her hand and feel the curve of his face and the sensation of the scarred skin across his eyes and temple. Almost.

           Almost.

           Oxygen moves through Hera’s lungs and is exhaled, and it’s disorienting how much it hurts to do something that was once so remarkably easy. Again, she closes her eyes, and again she tries to search through her mind for any sliver of clarity of Kanan’s last moments alive. Again, there’s nothing but pain.

           And she’s furious. Furious she died and furious she can’t remember and furious that what she has is excruciating to pick through. Kanan’s last hour alive and most of her own memory of it has been built together on someone else’s story. It’s not right that he’s dead when he deserved longer, and there’s a logical part of her mind that says he knew the risk, but her pain flinches away from relief as easy as that.

           She’s together enough to be strong for her crew. When the General walks out, she hugs Sabine and Ezra and Zeb each as long as they need, not letting go until they do. She stays with her family and lets the silence hang and she can find enough strength to remain constant for them. Tears well in her eyes but, for the kids, she can remain together enough to hold them because no one knows Kanan for them like she did, so she can stay upright. For them. Because she has to. Because she needs to.

           When they go to sleep, she locks herself in a ship, flicks on the sound insulator, and screams. Screams because she should be able to remember, screams because her body still hurts from the torture, screams because she misses him and screams because they were in love during a war, but they still deserved longer. Hera fought for the future but only saw everyone else’s, never hers. Kanan saw his in his mind, and saw hers, and for them, he carried their dreams of a life together, so when Hera came to him in that way no one saw, their dreams were whole enough for her to carry, too.

           She screams until her voice is raw and cries until her eyes are dry and sting with the exertion. It all hurts too much, burns too hot, cuts too deep—a loss like this is not enough to bend her spine but stars, does she hurt anyways.

           Hera looks up to the stars. Just as they were when he died, they’re cold tonight, too. She doesn’t know how to be okay without him and doesn’t know how she’s going to adjust to any normal that doesn’t have him at her side. They did things together, and now that’s broken.

           Trembling fingers reach out to touch the duraglass, reaching for the stars like it’s Kanan’s hand. Presses her palm to the surface like it’s his chest—closes her eyes like she would when he kissed her. Her hand falls when her screams start again, because when she opens her eyes, it’s still not him.

           She falls asleep in the cockpit and in the morning, she leads.

           She continues.

[rebel-21]

Life skills

Chapter 1 realization 

Summary 

 One shots on how Kanan quickly learns that Ezra has a long way to go before he can even think about training him. He has to teach Ezra how to do normal everyday tasks and life skills that the whole crew takes for granted. 

Kanan had no idea that Ezra was robbed of so much of his childhood. Until Ezra really started to live with them. “What are we going to do Hera ?” As Kanan sat down next to his best friend. It was late in the evening and everyone else had gone to bed. 

“What are we going to do about what?” As her mind started to do a checklist of different supplies they might have missed on their little outing today. “It about Ezra Kanan began to speak again.” I can’t even think about teaching him the basic of the force when…“ 

Hera gave Kanan puzzled look. "Why can’t you train Ezra?” As she looked at Kanan his eyes held such sorrow and pain in them. Her heart sunk little in her chest as she slowly understood what the young Jedi was getting at. “It not that you don’t think he can do it you’re worried about all the other things were all just learning that he struggling with”. 

She slowly reaches a hand out to Kanan across the table as his rough hand grasped her own. “ He been robbed of so much Hera he had trouble eating, he can’t wash his hair, he speaking is not even up to what the age range is, He wears the same clothes every day!” As Hera quickly hug the distressed men. “Shhhh he safe now Kanan and where going to do everything we can to keep him safe and healthy." 

"What if you can’t ” a young voice spoke up from the doorway. As Kanan and Hera, both sighed  Ezra was leaning against the door frame. Arm crossed his clothes hung from his malnourished frame his hair still wet from a shower he took little bit short of an hour ago. Kanan turned his body to face the teen. “ "Ezra what are you doing up?" 

"Wasn’t tired so I came down to…” as he stopped mid-sentence. “Never mind why don’t you just send me off to Lothal tomorrow all be out of your hair” As he walks right up to Kanan his face showing no emotion. “ the next time” Ezra began to speak. “You want another kid off the street to remember that there going to more fuck up then you could ever imagine. As 

Ezra quickly turned away from the two people he thought were going to change his life forever. His heart ached his hand shook with anger. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. ” no you’re not crying" he thought to himself. “ you knew this was never going to end well.” Kanan watch the teen in the front of him. “ did Ezra really think they were going to shun him away”? As he gave Hera quick look. Hera face showed as much shock as he probably felt. He slowly raised his hand to touch the teen shoulder gently. What he was not expecting was a knife that was on the table moment ago was now at his throat. 

Ezra left kneecap was digging into his rib cage as the boy’s eyes showed complete utter anger and fear the force was coming off of Ezra in waves. Kanan didn’t move a muscle the knife was at his jugular one wrong move and Ezra could make him bleed to death in a matter of seconds. “ you think you can fix someone as messed up as me!” Ezra began to speak in slowly and almost menacing tone. As he pressed the knife deeper into Kanan’s neck. 

Ezra knew how much pressure he needed to be able to kill the man. “Ezra please put the knife down no one going to get rid of you” Hera spoke on the other end of the table she didn’t move muscle. Ezra realized he had completely forgotten about the woman. As he turned his head but made sure his pressure on the knife didn’t waver. “ Your lying !"Ezra yelled out "no one cares for someone like me !!!!!”

 Ezra could feel his eyes began to water as tears began to fall from his face. Kanan quickly took advantage of Ezra focus on Hera as he quickly disarmed the boy in less than second. As the knife fell to the ground Ezra crashed to the floor. Hera quickly grabs the knife off the floor. As Kanan slowly made his way to the young teen who hadn’t moved from the floor making Kanan think he might have knocked him unconscious by accident. “Ezra, you ok? ” Kanan kneeled down to the teen but didn’t dare touch him. “ "Ezra I need to know that you not hurt answer me please." 

A couple of seconds passed and there was no sound that came from the teen. Kanan was about to roll the teen over but was stop when heard a faint cry escaped, Ezra. It broke his heart to hear that sound come out of the boy as the sobbing got louder and louder as Ezra slowly brought his knees to his chest and began to rock little on the floor. His whole frame was shaking his crying got louder and louder until Kanan couldn’t take it he wrapped his arm around the teen waiting for a fight he was sure that Ezra would put up but it never came. 

At first, Ezra was stiff as abroad in his arms as Kenan tried to calm him through the force but it didn’t seem to work Ezra body was so lock up that he had subconsciously cut himself off of everything around him. As Kanan held the teen in his arms as gently as he could not wanting to spook the boy and have to deal with another kick to the rib or knife to his throat. As Ezra slowly snaked his arms around Kanan’s neck as he rested his head on Kanan’s shoulder. Kanan felt Hera hand on his shoulder as she whispered in Ezra’s ear.”  we are not leaving you’re stuck with us and you will find yourself again.“ As Kanan tightened hold on the boy as he felt tears fall from the teen eyes they were going to bring the kid back from the streets and he was going take on one of the biggest challenges of his life but it was so worth it because this kid was worth it. 

The end