#Give him vents on his helmet so he can let out galaxy smoke | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

subbing-for-clones · 3 years

Text

The Alpha and The Omega Part 2

Alpha Maul x Omega Reader

Summary: Darth Maul becomes Maul and has to figure out how to both survive and thrive in the galaxy on his own. It’s more difficult than he thought it would be, especially after being thrown into a mix of bounty hunters with a unique gene that he also shares that are more than willing to allow him into their pack. Can he learn to trust those around him after a life time of near solitude?

Word Count: 4.9k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death and injuries, hints to slavery. A/B/O dynamics. Maul’s injury is not the canon one

PREVIOUS NEXT MASTERLIST

No.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

Maul was falling, plunging into the depths of a reactor shaft on Naboo. He had killed a Jedi Master; finally, after all his years of training and harsh lessons, he had succeeded in this long-awaited trial. He didn’t plan for the Master’s padawan to be so strong and so quick. Right when he had started to celebrate his victory by taunting his opponent who had hung from the very shaft he was falling into, he was caught off guard. The padawan had leapt up, used his fallen Master’s saber and plunged it straight through his chest before kicking him down into the abyss.

Maul could still feel the padawan’s rage billowing through the surrounding force, his pain and sadness and he took pleasure in it. The fact that he had cracked the padawan’s resolve was a consolation to his failure. He had failed his mission, he had failed himself, he had failed his Master; years wasted. His life, wasted. His eyes widened in a realization and harnessing his physical pain, Maul was able to take hold of an air vent, hoisting himself up and into the tight tunnels and calling the working half of his saber into his grip with a burst of fury through the force.

Every time he had thought he was able to keep something from Sidious it was revealed that his master had planned his movements long before he made them. No, he had not failed his Master, he had followed his plan accordingly. Sidious wanted him to fall on Naboo; he wanted the Jedi to believe they had once again eradicated the threat of the Sith and take on a new apprentice. Newfound anger at his betrayal fueled him to climb through the ventilation until he finally reached the surface. The wound in his chest was not fatal, it had passed between both of his hearts but still ached and throbbed; the burning of the instant cauterization kept him from bleeding to death. He should have died from the impact of the fall.

He had to leave, he couldn’t let the Jedi or his master know he had survived. Concealing his force signature like he had had to master years ago, he kept to the shadows. He feared the Jedi would recognize his ship; he knew his master would, so he almost regrettably left it behind. The citizens were still celebrating their false victory drunkenly in the streets so it was far too easy to steal a small ship and escape the planet since the blockade had been eradicated.

He made his way to the furthest reaches of the outer rim on the boarder of wild space to evade his master’s detection. He spent a year bouncing between planets, nursing his injury and keeping up his original training by fighting fearsome beasts. When he had returned to his full strength, he dared inch slightly closer to civilization. He had returned to Tatooine in hopes of gathering some supplies despite his almost empty purse.

He had fallen into bounty hunting by accident. He came across a small moisture farm and with the intent to rob it, had found himself face to face with an utterly terrified Twi’lek male. Maul was about to unsheathe his weapon but stopped when the man before him dropped to his knees.

“Please! Please don’t take me back to Jabba! I know he has a price on my head but I can’t go back there!” sobs cracked through his words and Maul grimaced in disgust at the man’s weakness. “I- I don’t have much but I’ll pay you what I can if you leave me alone and forget you ever saw me. Please.”

Maul did no such thing. With the promise of credits, he ignited his blade and took the man’s head in one fell swoop. Carrying his head over his shoulder by one of the Twi’lek’s lekku along with the credits he had offered him for his freedom, he made his way to Jabba’s palace to collect a reward. Sure enough, he was promised a handsome sum for killing the thief and presenting his head to Lord Jabba.

He sat at a small table in the corner of the cantina while he awaited his pay. He scanned the room, taking note of every patron and exit while the band played music he didn’t care for. His eyes met the visor of who he assumed was a bounty hunter under Jabba’s employ. The Mandalorian warrior strode over to him slowly after muttering something to one of the servant girls. The man pulled the only other chair out from Maul’s table and settled himself down in it, followed quickly by the girl carrying two amber bottles. She gave a dainty bow before she trotted away, leaving the two men in a heavy silence.

Maul could smell him; he didn’t feel like a threat to him per say as he could tell the Mandalorian wasn’t a force user, but he did waft a heady scent that made the flesh on the back of Maul’s neck raise up. He bared his teeth to the man and growled before taking a swig of the bottle; never taking his eyes off of the stranger in front of him.

“Easy there Alpha. I’m not here to start trouble.” Maul pretended like he wasn’t confused by the title he had been assigned. Some bounty hunter lingo perhaps.

“I haven’t seen you around here or around the guilds before. How long have you been hunting?” the man never removed his helmet to drink his beer, rather placed a metal straw in the opening and sipped it from under his helm.

“Not long,” Maul wanted to give this man as little information as possible without rousing suspicion. He had interacted with bounty hunters before and was under the impression they didn’t ask questions, unlike the Mandalorian. Maul watched intently as the man reached into his utility belt and pulled out a card before sliding it across the table in his direction. He quirked his brow ridge at the man waiting for an explanation.

“We tend to take care of our own. Guild Master on this card has a set up on Corellia. She’s a mated Omega, she’ll help you get started up, might be able to pull a few strings and get you into the Guild,” he rapped his knuckles once on the table and stood as a Gamorrian Guard approached with Maul’s payment. He took the purse quickly and made his way to the exit but not before shooting the stranger one last glance.

“Good luck out there brother,” he rasped through his vocoder and giving a lazy two finger salute.

Maul made his way back across the desert as night was starting to fall, a relief from the blistering heat. He had some strange exchanges in his life but none that had left him so confused. Why had the man called him Alpha and referred to him as a brother? What in the name of the force was a mated Omega? He had never heard of that species before despite his Master’s thorough tutelage. He sat in the cockpit of his ship holding the card in his crimson and tattooed fingers, lost in thought. He hadn’t considered what his life would turn into with his newfound freedom.

He knew he wanted revenge and the notoriety he was promised, how he would achieve it on his own he had no clue. He considered how he might be able to gain influence in the underworld and high contacts should he become a renowned bounty hunter. He had the skillset for it. He needed the credits too. Sighing, he punched in the coordinates to Corellia, confident in the idea that his Master was convinced of his demise and made his way there.

He never much liked Corellia, he had been here several times before. Despite the fact that it was easy to get lost in a crowd, it was also difficult to perceive incoming threats if he dropped his guard. He wandered through the streets, keeping to the alleyways when he could with the hood of his black cloak pulled over his head, obscuring others’ ability to see his face. He glanced down between the card in his hand and the neon signs above the various businesses. Trying to locate a cantina called The Den, supposedly in Coronet owned by a Theelin named Zeni.

Sure enough, after rounding a dozen corners he finally found a hole in the wall with a little sign that read The Den, in red lights. Two characters he didn’t recognize from any languages he was familiar with, unlit, one painted on either side of the basic neon lettering. He pushed open the heavy door and was pleasantly surprised to find it larger than it looked on the inside. The room was dark, lit by low glowing lights. Cigar smoke wafted lazily through the air but not so much that it made you choke. Various tapestries and flags decorated the walls along with photographs of people he wouldn’t have been able to recognize if he had cared to try.

Only a few patrons sat scattered around the cantina, their attention on data-pads and bounty pucks. He spotted a dark blue haired, purple skinned Theelin behind the bar chatting flirtatiously with a large Chiss male.

A scent, different but akin to the one the Mandalorian had permeated the room, swirling with a strong flowery one. The odd pair’s eyes snapped up to him the moment the door closed behind the Zabrak. He took a bar stool a few seats down from the Chiss and stared straight ahead, feeling the man’s eyes narrow in his direction. The Theelin woman he assumed was Zeni strode over to him after patting the Chiss’s arm affectionately.

“Don’t mind him, you know how Alphas get when unmated ones come around their Omega,” she was absentmindedly wiping down the dark bar with a damp rag before setting a glass down, “what can I get for you?”

Maul reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out her card and set it down on the counter.

“I was told you were the one to come to if I wanted to join the guild.”

“You got a sponsor? Proof of successful hunts?” she quirked a brow at him as the man he assumed was her mate kept a close eye on him. Maul was confused.

“I wasn’t aware you needed a sponsor to join the Guild.”

“Not the collective no, but if you wanna join this house you’ll need someone to vouch that you’re not an over aggressive Alpha or too submissive Omega,” the Chiss answered before Zeni could. Leaning across the empty space he extended a hand, “Call me Coth, Zeni’s Alpha.” Maul hesitantly took the man’s hand and gave a firm, curt shake, “Maul.”

“You’re unmated,” Coth stated, it wasn’t a question. Maul at least understood what that meant.

“I do not have a mate no. Is that important?”

“No,” Zeni cut in, “we’ve quite a few lone Alphas in our ranks, few unmated Omegas too, as long as you don’t give the girls too much trouble, we won’t have a problem.”

Maul was getting frustrated with the terms he didn’t understand, “What are these Alphas and Omegas? I’ve only heard of them over the last few days from another bounty hunter. Is this some kind of title?”

The mated pair exchanged a bewildered look, “You don’t know?” Coth asked. Maul simply stared at them while Zeni sighed heavily and reached behind her, pouring a massive amount of liquor into the empty glass she had placed in front of Maul. Coth had scooted over to sit next to him.

“He wouldn’t be the first,” he started, “do you remember when ‘Meg first came around with Bane? She didn’t know hardly anything. Terrified of every Alpha she smelled, poor thing.”

“Of course I remember, I wouldn’t let her catch you referring to her as a ‘poor thing’. She’s probably our best Omega, she does work for the collective too now, not just our house. Still don’t know where she came from. I think Bane knows but you know how he is. Moves around a lot that girl, just like he does.” Coth nodded at Zeni’s words before turning his attention back to Maul who was only half listening at this point as he nursed his liquor.

“Long story short, it’s a gene. It’s why you can smell me and my honey there. You’ve got the Alpha which makes you stronger, faster and a bit smarter than the rest of your species.”

Maul mulled over Coth’s words. From what he had learned, most of his kind from Dathomir had some kind of connection to the force, perhaps this added gene was why he was chosen to be Sidious’s apprentice.

“And what of the Omega?” he turned to Zeni and she grinned. “Same deal for the most part but we always fall in line behind our mighty Alphas,” she leaned over the bar pinched her lover’s cheek and gave him a playful growl before turning her attention back to the Zabrak.

“Listen I’ll cut you some slack, if you got this card, it means someone in our house gave it to you so you caught someone’s eye. Who gave it to you anyway?”

“I never got a name, he was a Mandalorian at Jabba’s palace.” Coth’s eyes gleamed, “Interesting, he’s never recruited anyone before.” Coth stared off into the corner of the bar while Zani spoke up again.

“Like I said I’ll cut you a break Maul, I can’t just grant you instant access to the guild’s bounty list; especially without a sponsor but if you can consistently turn in public bounties through us for six months and prove to be reliable, I’ll grant you membership and you can start taking some pucks,” she looked to her mate for a final approval. He gave her a curt nod and she refilled Maul’s drink with a pleased smile, “what do you say?”

Maul shot back the last of the liquor and stood, “prove my worth, join the ranks. Sounds reasonable..”

Coth also stood and retrieved a data-pad with a list of public bounties, “good, here. Take your pick, bring em back to us and you’ll get the reward through our broker.”

Over the next two months Maul proved to be an almost mechanically reliable hunter. He only ever took bounties that were listed with the option to bring them in dead, made his job easier. He found that it wasn’t as lucrative as he had hoped but he was only taking public bounties at the moment. They tended to be cheap but there were a lot at his disposal. The jobs were too easy for him, he was a born hunter and a trained killer yet he was hunting down mostly thieves who stole from the wrong people. His strength through the force came to every advantage, he enjoyed toying with his victims; making them run, giving them a false hope that they would escape but they never could.

To say he liked the other hunters at the Den would’ve been an overstatement but he didn’t necessarily dislike them either. Zeni was always friendly and welcoming when he came to drop off the bodies and collect his pay. Coth was as pleasant as an Alpha could be to another. He slowly started picking up social ques about the sub culture. Alphas were fiercely protective of their Omegas and although the Omegas were a force to be reckoned with all on their own; he realized how true Zeni’s earlier statement had been. They always fell in line behind their Alphas and their Alphas took great care of them. He still hadn’t met an Omega that wasn’t already mated and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to; the bond looked like an anchor, a distraction.

After collecting a series of quarries, he returned once again to Corellia to collect. When he entered the familiar cantina, a new scent almost knocked him out with its intensity. It was soft and earthy, lightly floral but incredibly strong. Noticing that Zeni was preoccupied talking to a woman at the bar with Coth by her side he took a seat in one of the empty booths and started looking through the newly available bounties from the public database trying to push through the fog that clouded his mind. He could just barely sense an individual in his proximity that had a strong connection to the force and it made him bristle.

~~~~~

Your pupils blew out the moment the scent hit your nose. You had been around your fair share of unmated Alphas by now but you had never been so affected before. You turned away from Zeni to scan the bar and your eyes fell on someone you had never seen in the cantina before. A crimson Zabrak’s eyes bored into yours for only a moment before he turned back to whatever it was he was doing. Zeni had to wave her lilac hand in front of your face to bring your attention back to her while Coth chuckled, obviously aware of how you were affected.

“Who the fuck is that?” you asked nodding your head in his direction. Coth quieted down long enough to answer you.

“Name’s Maul. New to the game, Fett gave him the card but he doesn’t have a sponsor.”

“Never heard of Fett handing out your card,” you quirked your brow over to Zeni.

“As far as I know he never has. Maul must’ve had some crazy strong pheromones going off to catch that Alphas attention,” she chirped, “since it was Fett who extended the invitation and he’s obviously an Alpha I told him he can take public bounties and cash em in here for a while ‘till he proves to be a good addition to our pack.”

You nodded pensively before downing your drink. His scent was heady, a strong woody and musty, lightly smoky smell that heated your muscles under your skin. You had finished your heat recently so you were confident that the only pheromones you were releasing were your normal Omega ones. Still, you felt his eyes on you and you could feel the dark side of the force surrounding him. Interesting.

“How’s he doing? Why doesn’t he have a sponsor?” you tried to ask nonchalantly while you looked through the pucks Coth had set out for you to take your pick from.

“He won’t ask for sponsorship and no one’s offered. He’s doing great considering he didn’t have a clue he was an Alpha when he first wondered in here.”

“He didn’t?” the mirrored déjà vu was not lost on you.

“Nope, but he’s taken care of the most dangerous thieves that have been posted publicly, finds em quick too,” Coth praised, “plus he’s left the mated Omegas alone, hasn’t challenged any of the other Alphas either. Keeps to himself, still doesn’t have a mate as far as I can tell,” he gave you a not-so-subtle wink and jab with his elbow.

You glared at him from under the rim of your hat. “So he needs a sponsor..” you turned your attention back to Zeni picking up three of the pucks and sliding the rest back to Coth.

“I’m way ahead of you ‘Meg,” she set two glasses with a few ice cubes in front of you and a full bottle of whisky; the spicy kind you liked, and turned her love sick gaze back to the Chiss she called her mate. You took the glasses and the bottle and turned to walk towards the strange Alpha.

You watched a scantily dressed Twi’lek slide into the worn booth next to him and try to mutter something into his ear, you smirked when he made an effort to scoot away from her but this woman was persistent. She had no scent, she wasn’t an Omega, she had no business trying to woo an Alpha. Fucking Betas, you thought. They made up the majority of the population and couldn’t tell the difference between Alphas, Omegas and their kind. She didn’t notice you while you set the glasses down softly on the table; bottle still in hand. When you cleared your throat, she looked up at you with an annoyed huff. You swept your coat to the side, showing the blaster strapped to your thigh, “beat it bitch,” your voice was sultry and smooth but carried an authority only a respected Omega could.

You watched her scurry away looking frightened and ignored the snorts of amusement coming from the bar. Every patron in the Den knew you and your reputation. You had no problem challenging anyone who stood in your way. Whether that came from the skills you had learned as a Jedi or an attitude you picked up from Bane; you didn’t know and didn’t care. It worked.

The Alpha said nothing as you glided into the black booth opposite him and slid one of the empty glasses over to him; passing him the bottle once you had poured yourself a generous serving. You allowed yourself to enjoy the spicy malt liquor and watched as he also poured the amber liquid over the ice cubes in his glass. His scent was over powering, it turned your insides into butterflies; something the other Alphas had never done. The pheromones he released told you he was vaguely interested in your presence, welcoming it, almost. But his force signature told you he was wary, waiting to see why you had approached him in the first place.

For a few minutes the two of you sat in silence, eyes locked on one another while you basked in the other’s aroma and sipped your drinks until you broke the silence.

“So, you’re the new Alpha in town,” you cocked your brow at him.

“That’s what I’ve been told, yes,” he poured himself a second drink and you hummed.

“I hear you’ve been taking up the public listings and doing fairly well for yourself,” you leaned back and stretched your free arm over the back of the booth.

“Is this going somewhere or did you just want to buy me a drink?” the corner of his mouth quirked up and his golden eyes narrowed slightly as he also leaned back, spreading his legs to a more comfortable and dominant position.

You nodded your head, respecting the fact that he valued his time. Still, you made him wait till you finished your drink and sighed. “I also hear you might be in need of a sponsorship.”

“As you said, I’m doing quite well for myself. Not so sure I need one.”

You poured yourself another glass and hummed again, leaning forward towards him and resting on your elbows with your drink clasped between your hands. “That maybe the case but without one it’ll be a while before your granted membership. Even then, new initiates only get last picks.”

“Are you offering me something?” he leaned forward slightly, searching your face for your intentions before you could speak them.

“As a matter of fact, I am. The hunter who sponsored me was high ranking so when I got in; I got better pickings by affiliation. I’m giving you the same chance I had by offering you, my sponsorship.”

“What exactly would I have to do?” he growled. Obviously not keen on the idea of owing anyone anything.

“Nothing you’re not already doing,” you placed the three pucks you had gotten from Zeni on the table and pulled a fourth out of your pocket you had gotten from a private hire. “Come with me and help me take care of these four, come back and collect fifty percent after fuel costs. Simple. After that you’ll have full membership and higher paying bounties to choose from. Few weeks instead of a few months, thousands instead of hundreds.”

You leaned back and gave him time to look over the information each puck carried. Even if he decided to try to run off with the info and catch them on his own, no guild master would cash him out without a membership. You barely caught the slight widening of his eyes when he saw the cash reward. You felt his need through the force and smelled it from him. You knew he would accept your offer but you allowed him to drag out his answer for a few minutes while he mulled it over.

“Alright,” his voice was velvety, “I’ll play along. When do we leave?”

“Is your ship somewhere you can leave it unattended? We’re taking mine.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Good, meet me at the refueling station by night fall, docking bay number 7. I have to resupply. Bring whatever you’ll need for a few weeks,” you stood and collected your pucks, tucking them safely into the bag that hung from your shoulder, “don’t keep me waiting Alpha,” you cooed before sauntering out of the cantina.

Maul poured himself a third drink from the bottle you left, he had more than enough time and was hoping to drown out the strange thickness your scent left on his tongue. The seat you left open was quickly filled by none other than Coth. He was grinning dumbly, wide and toothy; his red eyes gleaming.

“Did she offer you a sponsorship?”

“Yes, we’re leaving tonight,” he didn’t quite understand why he felt so comfortable talking to Coth. Perhaps it was because of the pack mentality this house seemed to have, maybe it was something to do with the unique gene they all shared. It could just be because he spent his whole life alone besides his master and although he would never admit it, he marginally preferred occasional company. He wasn’t a threat to this Alpha’s mate and thus Coth wasn’t a threat to him; so, he pressed on, “why is her scent so much… stronger than the other Omegas?”

“Who ‘Meg? She’s unmated. Hasn’t even been scented by another Alpha. Not that no one’s tried. Usually, Omegas are mated shortly after their first heat but she’s been around for three years or so now and she’s a force to be dealt with. Probably the least submissive Omega I’ve ever met. Cad Bane sponsored her and even he respects her.”

“Why did she turn down the others’ advances? I thought Omegas were supposed to be pliant.”

“They are with their Alpha. She’s especially headstrong though. I overheard her chatting with Zeni one time when she actually got pretty smashed, going on about how it would be an honor to submit to an Alpha but it had to be one worthy of submission.”

Maul nodded and was pleasantly surprised with what he was told. He of all people could understand being willing to fall in line but it had to be to a greater power than the one possessed by the follower, not just anyone. He finished his drink and thanked Coth for the information and gave Zeni an uncharacteristic wave before he left the cantina; much to her delight.

He made his way back to his ship and gathered a few pairs of extra clothes and the rest of his ration bars in his pack before paying the caretaker of the of the ship yard enough credits to dock his ship there for six weeks. He hoped that would be long enough, Corellia wasn’t exactly cheap to store your ship on for long periods of time. It would be worth it if he really could come back to better prospects. He never sensed that you had lied to him, neither through the force or through your scent. He took his time and bought a few meat kabobs from a vendor on the street before heading to the location you had given him.

Sure enough, when he arrived at dock 7, he saw you chatting with a Quarren while one of his employees loaded a few crates into your cargo bay. He took a moment to admire you, your scent wasn’t nearly so intoxicating at this distance. He silently appreciated the way the glow from the setting sun lit up behind your silhouette and cast a slight shadow over your face under the brim of your hat but your eyes never lost their glow. How your posture was relaxed and friendly yet carried an air that demanded respect from those around you. You had smiled brightly at something the supplier said and let out a melodious laugh that rang through the cooling dusk. He felt a pang of jealousy that almost startled him. He had no reason to be possessive of you. Still, when you turned to him, a smile still across your lips and motioned him over to you he held a sense of pride with being beckoned to your side. He was utterly fucked, wasn’t he?

As the two of you walked up the ramp and closed the hatch behind you, you turned to face him.

“You ready for some big game Alpha?” he nodded.

“Maul, my name is Maul.”

“Alright Maul, if that’s what you prefer. Call me ‘Meg.”

Yes, he was indeed fucked.

#Maul x reader #Darth maul #TPM #TPM AU #maul fluff #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics

111 notes · View notes

gkingoffez · 7 years

Text

happy just to be there holding your face

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Words: 1,950

Summary: “I dreamed about him again,” Kanan says.

Warnings: Heavily implied major character death, grief/mourning, survivor’s guilt

AO3 | FFN.Net

Zeb and Ezra’s room is dark and empty, and the Stormtrooper helmets lining the walls cast long and odd shadows across the floor. Both bunks are vacant and gape at Kanan like the open mouths of terrible beasts. He frowns.

He can’t recall why he came in here, but here he is, kneeling in the middle of the floor as though in meditation. Strange, as he usually prefers the quieter and emptier confines of his own room for that.

Something glints brightly on the bench across the room and it draws his eye. He is up and moving forward, curiosity itching at his fingertips, and what he finds is Ezra’s lightsaber. It lies smashed to pieces on the desk, almost unrecognisable as anything other than a pile of junk. The bright blue of the Kyber crystal is catching what little light there is in the room, and it is singing out sadly to him.

Kanan reaches for it with an odd sense of longing.

There is a hiss behind him, and he pulls his hand back to snap around. He sees that the door has opened across the room.

“Hello?” he says, but there is nothing but the white artificial light of the corridor spilling into the room to greet him. It is then he hears the distant sound of laughter, echoing from another part of the ship.

He isn’t alone.

Forgetting about the crystal entirely, Kanan strides towards the door and out into the corridor. He looks it up and down and finds nothing- all of the other doors to the crew quarters are shut. He contemplates for a second, then moves in the direction of the common room, where the laughter emanates from like a siren song.

The Ghost is empty and strangely dimmer than usual, and Kanan’s steady footsteps clang on the metal floor, echoing dully in the long, quiet passageway. The closer he gets to the door, the louder the joyful voices on the other side seem to become and he quickens his pace. Something, some strange, overwhelming feeling is urging his feet onwards.

He knows his crew, his family is behind the door; their voices, their laughter is almost as familiar to him as his own. He knows in his heart that they’ve been waiting for him to join them.

Kanan hopes he hasn’t kept them waiting long.

But something suddenly gives him pause. He stops with his hand hovering over the door control. Fear, perhaps, but he isn’t sure why he should be afraid. Something soft but determined is telling him to turn back now, it whispers that he should not be tempted by what’s on the other side.

That is not the Jedi way.

Sabine’s high, happy laugh filters through the door. She hasn’t laughed like that in a while, and it makes his heart swell with happines.

Kanan shakes his head and the feeling away, and presses the panel. The door slides aside.

Just as he’d already known, his crew are all there in a sort of semi-circle in the middle of the common room. They all turn to him as he steps inside with wide smiles and cries of greeting. All except one, that is- Ezra, orange jacket, short hair buzzed nearly to the scalp, keeps his back to him.

Kanan freezes.

The world reels and tumbles as if it has suddenly been ejected into the cold vacuum of space, and then it abruptly rights itself again.

Ezra Bridger finally turns to face him, and Kanan sees him.

“There you are. Did you get lost?” exclaims Ezra with a smile half as wide as his face.

Kanan walks forward slowly, deliberately, until he is standing right before his padawan. Ezra is taller than he last remembers, but still a good head shorter than Kanan himself.

He stares, and stares, and stares. He takes in everything from the parallel scars on the boy’s cheek to the bright blue eyes which are gazing at him with amusement.

“Y-you’re-” Kanan stutters out. He looks Ezra up and down. “You can’t be here, you’re-”

Tentatively, he reaches out. His hand meets the side of Ezra’s face. He cups Ezra’s cheeks, runs his thumbs across the bones and his eyes across every inch of skin, and then brings his other hand up to do the same on the other side. Ezra is warm, his hair bristly under Kanan’s fingertips. He feels warm and safe and solid and alive and-

“This… isn’t real, is it? I’m just dreaming, aren’t I?”

Something shifts, and Ezra’s smile softens into sadness.

“Sorry,” he says.

Kanan’s stomach feels like it is sinking faster than a transport ship into the lower levels of Coruscant, and he laughs. It comes out as a shattered sob.

In the background, the others have melted away into nothingness, like shadows or smoke, and he is vaguely aware that this should disturb him. It is only him and Ezra left now, alone on the Ghost. Perhaps even alone in the whole galaxy.

“No,” insists Kanan, “You don’t need to be sorry, you never need to be sorry, Ezra. I’m the one- I-”

He pulls their foreheads together, keeping his eyes open, straining them to keep looking at Ezra’s face. Fear is telling him that if he glances away for even a second, Ezra will disappear too.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “It should have been me, why wasn’t it me?”

Tears are sliding down his face, he thinks. He pulls back, but keeps staring, hunched over and holding on like Ezra is a lifeline and he is drowning in an endless ocean.

Ezra rests a hand on Kanan’s arm, and squeezes comfortingly.

“It’s okay,” Ezra says softly. “Not your fault, never blamed you. But now it’s time for you to wake up.”

Kanan shakes his head fervently and holds tighter. He will not let go, he will not leave Ezra again. Not like the last time.

“Kanan.” Ezra laughs gently. “It’s okay. I’m okay. You’re gonna to be okay. Wake up.”

But Kanan isn’t done drinking in Ezra’s face yet- he hasn’t told him everything he wants to say, all those worries and regrets and ‘I love you’s’. He wants to ask if Ezra had seen his parents or Master Billaba in whatever place he is now. He wants to know if Ezra is happy and warm or in pain and alone.

Kanan doesn’t want to wake up. It isn’t fair.

“Maybe it isn’t, but that just doesn’t matter. I’m gone, Kanan. Sorry for that, but it’s what’s real.”

Kanan opens his mouth to argue and something sharp closes around his heart. He thumbs along Ezra’s scar tenderly and smooths an errant tuft of dark hair back into place.

“I miss you so much,” he sighs. “You should be here with us, fighting in the rebellion, it’s not-”

He stops himself from finishing, clamping down on it hard. Something warns him that his time has run out, and he doesn’t want to finish on a hollow regret.

He smiles as genuinely as he can through the overpowering ache in his bones. Ezra smiles back wide, happy and full of life, like Kanan remembers it.

“May the Force be with you, Ezra.”

With one last lingering look at Ezra’s face between his hands, Kanan closes his eyes and everything melts to black.

Kanan jolts awake. For a wild moment of fear, he panics over the oppressing darkness behind his open eyes before reality reasserts itself- he is blind, and has been blind for a long while now. This is nothing new.

He huffs in oxygen and blinks away the confusion. The constant, low thrumming of the Ghost’s air vents and the occasional groan of metal is instantly familiar and calming in his ears. Besides him on the bunk, he hears Hera mutter in her sleep, and reaches out to where he senses her to be, drawing comfort from the warm, real texture of her skin.

Already the strange dream is fading from his mind (as dreams were wont to do), but he grasps at enough of the threads to remember bits and pieces of it.

Broken lightsaber, the crew’s laughter, Ezra-

A far-too familiar crushing wave of emotion presses down upon him. Unable to contain it, Kanan gently flicks off the blanket to swing his legs off the bunk, and leans forward so his elbows are resting on his knees. He scrubs both hands down his face, catching loose long hair between the gaps of his fingers.

Kanan, it’s okay. I’m okay. You’re gonna to be okay.

Kanan hadn’t cried, and couldn’t even now, but only because it was a physical impossibility with his damaged eyes. Instead, he lets out a ragged breath and screws his useless eyelids shut.

He breathes in and out, trying to calm himself by stepping into the comforting arms of the Force. Hera begins to stir behind him, and he reaches for her presence, always warm and strong and right beside him. Then he extends out further, searching for the steady twangs of life that are Sabine and Zeb nearby. Sabine’s presence pings from in her room, while Zeb is a little further out, perhaps in the galley, but Kanan isn’t completely sure. Even further still, he reaches out to the base around him, thrumming with life and the rebelliouus, determined purpose of a hundred people fighting for freedom from tyranny, even this early in the morning.

Ezra is not there among them, not like in the dream. He knows why.

Why wasn’t it me? Kanan has asked that question a hundred times now, and has gotten no reply of any sort.

The bed creaks. He feels Hera’s arms snake around him, feels her concern without needing to see it, and leans into the hold.

“I dreamed about him again,” Kanan says. “He was here, on the Ghost, like nothing happened. This dream felt different, somehow, though I can’t explain it.”

She kisses his bare shoulder and grips him tight againt her chest; she has no words, and doesn’t need them.

He is grateful for her. He’s grateful for all of them.

“I wish…” he whispers. It was against the Jedi order to wish for things, but the Jedi order is long dead; as far as Kanan knows, only he remains. “I just wish we’d had more time.”

He gazes sightlessly across the room, then pulls out of Hera’s grip and to his feet. He gathers up his shirt, and walks out the door, ignoring her soft calls after him. Three steps directly across the hall, and his hand hovers over the access panel to the room parallel to his own. Zeb and E- just Zeb’s room now.

He frowns at it, and hears Chopper roll up and beep curiously at him in binary. He ignores that too, as well as Sabine’s voice when it chimes in sounding tired and annoyed.

With a surge of courage, or maybe just a desire to escape the sudden crowd of curious eyes, he opens the door and walks in. Ezra’s presence still hangs in the air, a faint smell of fruit and grease.

In the dream, Kanan had held his face, looked into his eyes, saw him smile again, and remembering that feels like a knife twisting in his heart.

He steps forward and gets gently to his knees in the middle of the room. The senses Hera, Sabine and Chopper gazing at him from the doorway

“It’s just not fair,” he says after a long moment as though stating a simple fact.

He hangs his head and the room falls into a deceptive quiet; Kanan Jarrus is not one to fall apart loudly, after all.

Could you beam me up?

Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it

Probably just stare, happy just to be there holding your face

Beam me up, l et me be lighter,

I’m tired of being a fighter, I think a minute’s enough

Just beam me up

- P!nk

I dunno, I like present tense sometimes and it just worked for this one.

In other news, please board the angst train with me and listen to 'Beam Me Up' by P!nk and think about Kanan in an Ezra dies AU. I really really REALLY just wanted to do something short for this song bc it gives me feeeeeeeeels. Also, if you haven’t already worked it out, deadzra bridger is a fave of mine. :D

I’m kinda unsure about this piece???? I'm just not sure if it works like I wanted it to. I intended the dream to be confusing (like dreams are) but still realistic enough that it might be real, but let me know if you guys found it TOO confusing. It's also meant to be vague as heck for ya'll to fill in whatever gaps you please, so there's that too.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

#star wars rebels #swr #swr fanfic #kanan jarrus #my writing #ezra bridger #gosh i just want to put this one out before i scrap it entirely

8 notes · View notes