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Ezra awakens to cold metal pressing against his cheek. His head is heavy, a spiked mace with a weary handle. It takes considerable effort for his eyes to open. The blur of a graffitied wall sharpens into an orange symbol.
When he recognizes the significance as well as the artist, his head shoots up. Chains rattle, the cuffs on his wrists restraining him into a sitting position. The table has a small hexagon where the chain attaches to the handcuffs from underneath the metal surface.
No.
The tang of copper stings his tongue. He must have bitten it when the unconscious blow struck.
Kanan had come out of nowhere. He was completely silent, cloaking, invisible, when he snatched Ezra from the bomb site.
Ezra always knew Kanan was a fool for those he cared about, but not this foolish. Can’t Kanan see the truth?
His soul mark burns where a blaster bolt singed his wrist bone. The faint blue glow of the handcuffs meant he couldn’t escape them, or move them in such a way to mind his wound.
His soulmate felt it. Felt the graze singe the borders of the white circle connecting the veins of his inner wrist. The circle was invisible until Ezra met him, and ever since, the bond forged between them was one of the strongest historians have seen.
The other side of that mark was searching for him now, and that meant Ezra had to get out fast. He didn’t want the people in this base to die for nothing.
The door slides open. Kanan’s blue eyes dart around him concernedly, approaching the table.
“Ezra,” he breathes, lowering himself into the chair across the table, “are you alright? I know Sabine got a little too close with the thermal detonators. I thought-”
“Let me go,” Ezra says.
Stupid Jedi. Doesn’t he know what he’s done?!
Kanan’s mouth freezes in a parted motion. His breath holds, hurt registering visibly.
“Ezra,” Kanan sounds out, “we’ve saved you. It’s alright. You don’t have to use the Dark Side anymore. I’m here.”
Is he serious?
Ezra narrows his eyes, which blazes with flecks of fire amongst water. “Did I stutter? Let. Me. Go.”
Kanan grows even more worried than before. Ezra didn’t think it was possible. All he knows is this is a colossal waste of both of their times.
“High command wants to speak with you before you’re brought back into the fold,” Kanan recites, “but I thought I’d come here first, since I didn’t think I’d need them.” His brows pinch together with a frown. “But I suppose I do.”
Ezra refrains from growling in frustration. “Look, Kanan, if you don’t wanna die today, you should let me go.”
Kanan arches a brow. “Is that a threat?”
A burning sensation lights up Ezra’s soul mark. He twists his wrist so the white circle is concealed by the tabletop. He clenches the back of his teeth to regain control.
“It’s a fact,” Ezra sighs, “they’ll kill you if you don’t set me free. The clock is ticking.”
Kanan folds his arms over his chest. “If it’s a recapture you’re afraid of, we’ll take care of it.”
Ezra wants to throttle him for his idiocy. Kanan may be a Jedi trained in the old ways, but his chances of surviving an attack with The Three are slim.
“You can’t defeat them single-handedly,” Ezra scoffs.
“With you,” Kanan’s gaze fills with hope, “I can.”
“No,” Ezra says instantly. “Like it or not, I’m not your apprentice anymore. I have a new life, and I’m asking you to respect that. Let me go.”
“What have they done to you?” Kanan asks, unblinking as he studies Ezra’s eyes. “You’re far more corrupt than you appear. We have to meditate together to-”
“Stop,” Ezra tries to stand, but the chain on his handcuffs prevents him from rising to his full height, “just stop.” He slouches his posture. A heat reaches his soul mark, so he glances at the white circle.
And Kanan sees. Freezes. “Wait.”
Kanan stares at the visible soul mark. Ezra hides it in his dark clothes, but it doesn’t matter. Kanan saw what he saw.
“No,” Kanan looks faint, struggling to breathe, “no.”
Ezra lowers himself back into the chair. He didn’t have much of a choice, anyway.
“Whatever you’re thinking,” Ezra says, “isn’t the truth.”
Kanan is lost in himself, a somber mist overcoming his Force presence.
Ezra continues, “I am more protected with The Three than I am with you. They keep me safe, and they do care about me.”
That gets Kanan to react with a harrumph. “The Three Mortis gods want you for your power.”
“They want me,” Ezra corrects, “because I am bound to the Son. They wouldn’t dare harm his light.”
Kanan’s denouncement gives way to curiosity. Ezra is just glad his former Master remains predictable.
“So they’ve switched in this reincarnation,” Kanan says, “the Son is pure Light and the Daughter is pure Dark. The Father remains split in the middle.”
Ezra realizes he may have divulged too much. While he’s not a part of the Rebel Alliance anymore, he didn’t know the extent of their knowledge. Kanan has seen The Three himself, or at least sensed them in recent encounters. The Three liked to keep their identities a secret. Ezra only learned of their true names because of his soul mark; without it, he would still be trained by them wearing helmets.
A TIE defender screeches out of hyperspace. Its tornado presence alerts Ezra of one thing:
Luke is in the star system. Ezra is too late to help the Rebels.
Kanan must have noticed the stiffening of Ezra’s posture, because he asks, “what’s wrong?”
Luke sniffs out Ezra, his rage prominent. He gets closer to the Rebel base by the second.
Ezra commands, “evacuate right now. If you want to live, you’ll do as I say.”
Kanan takes a moment too long to contemplate. Alarms blare in a terrible screeching across the base.
Rising to his feet, Kanan walks to the door and exits the room. He doesn’t hear anything but the alarm through the durasteel.
Sighing, Ezra waits as yelling and footsteps grow frantic. He charts the energy, the scribbled heartbeats and rib-cracking panic.
Luke enters the upper atmosphere. The ear-shattering call of the TIE defender reverberates from Luke’s ears to Ezra’s own. The white circle on his wrist throbs at the connected veins.
Ezra exhales, curled up in his seat. The Force binders remain a nuisance to his sustained injuries. But no one comes to free him from the cuffs.
Moments pass, and no one comes to retrieve him at all. The alarm stops.
By then, Luke lands and infiltrates the base. If he weren’t coming, Ezra would have been trapped here. Left to die.
It spoke volumes about what the Rebellion has become. Ezra wouldn’t say he wants to destroy them, but oh, the disregard hurts a little bit.
Or a lot.
The sound of a lightsaber slicing through flesh gets closer than ever to the interrogation room. Blaster fire is for naught, deflected back at their shooters. A Force blast sends an entire volley of soldiers against a wall, unconscious upon impact.
Ezra absently wonders where Kanan’s lightsaber is to duel Luke’s. The coward must have escaped already. He doesn’t sense Kanan on base. The candle of opportunity has been snuffed out.
The shouting ceases. Luke has taken care of everyone around. Full of light as he may be on a good day, but getting in his way? Taking someone he loves?
The hell that Luke rains down upon his enemies is unmatched.
A searing red blade stabs through the door. The sliding mechanism malfunctions, retracting and breaking once it’s open.
Luke wears Sith robes, expression concealed in his helmet. The lightsaber is shut off as he enters the interrogation room.
With a quick hand motion, Luke destroys security cameras that Ezra didn’t notice himself. The chain connecting Ezra to the metal table snaps off. Ezra raises his cuffed hands to his chest, hesitant in moving away from his confinement.
Luke’s exhale is shaky through the vocoder. He takes in Ezra’s appearance. It is so wrought and disturbing that Luke removes his helmet, setting it on the table.
Teary silver-blue eyes drag across Ezra’s form. He advances, Ezra’s soul mark brightening into a blue circle. It glows whenever they are united, especially when Luke rounds the table and grasps his bound hands.
Ezra is urged up from his seat. Luke’s gaze remains on the Force binders. Ezra’s breath is caught in his throat at the delicate touch of his soulmate’s fingers on his knuckles.
Frozen for a beat, Luke exhales. A flash of anger flares between their bond, communicated, at last, when Luke meets his eyes.
“Oh,” Luke says gently, “how could they do this to you?”
Ezra is enthralled by the affection that appears so easily in Luke’s eyes. Despite the labels they both carried, this feeling was real.
Luke doesn’t look away from Ezra as he unlocks the Force binders. Ezra can finally sigh in relief once the weight leaves his wounds. The scrape on his wrist bone aches dully.
Ezra suddenly feels a new weakness present itself. A warning signal is sent to his leg. Blinking, he looks down.
His leg is wrapped in gauze, done with haste, possibly by Kanan before he awoke in this room. The gauze is stained with crimson, bleeding through the thick fabric.
Oh.
Lightheaded, Ezra loses balance and tips forward. Luke holds his weight reflexively.
“Hey,” Luke murmurs, “I’ve got you. Just hang on.”
Luke bends down, an arm sweeping behind Ezra’s leg. Luke shifts him up and into a bridal carry.
Ezra places a palm on Luke’s chest in an effort to ground himself, but it fails. The spot of Luke’s sleeve and the graffitied wall are a fog over his vision. The lack of feeling in his leg is alarming, something he definitely should have noticed before, but he supposes he was too caught up in his conversation with Kanan.
“Hey,” Luke’s voice is gentle but sharp, “stay awake. Focus on me, alright?”
Ezra tries to nod, but his head is too heavy to move. He closes his eyes and emits a huff.
“Did they lock up your lightsaber?” Luke asks pointedly.
“Yes,” Ezra says thinly, forcing his eyes to study a patch of Luke’s clothes.
“Call it to you,” Luke says.
Ezra dazedly wades and sloshes through the Force. Luke is right; he couldn’t lose his lightsaber.
A dot appears in the dark waters. He dives for it, searches until the light grows, and grows, and-
Ezra opens his eyes. The lightsaber hovers towards him. When Ezra cannot hold it himself, Luke clips it beside his own. Ezra sends his assent through their bond.
“Now,” Luke brings his helmet to them with the Force, frowning, “should’ve thought this one through better.”
Ezra snorts. “Here. I’ll help.”
Together, they use the Force to focus on the helmet. It is soon over Luke’s head.
Luke sighs through the vocoder. “Stay awake, okay? I’ll walk us to the ship as fast as I can without hurting you.”
Ezra sighs, “alright.”
Luke exits the interrogation room. Ezra notes the briskness to his walk, uses the bumps to keep his mind from falling unconscious. They step over bodies and descend hallways.
When they exit the empty base and reach the TIE defender, Ezra cannot hold on anymore. He has to close his eyes. Just for a minute.
“It’s okay,” Luke soothes, “I’ll fly fast.”
The permission is all Ezra needs to close his eyes and sleep.
When he awakens to Luke smiling down at his medbay bed, Ezra easily smiles back.