call-me-spectre-five // sabine wren
She breathed deeply into his side, the familiar scent of leather and ash filling her senses. A torrent of emotions fought in their chest. Anger. Grief. Joy. Exhaustion. And something they couldn’t speak into existence, the feeling of finally being home.
“Kanan, I’m so- I’m sorry. I’m–”
Sorry I can’t explain it better–
Sorry I couldn’t stop the fire before it–
Sorry I couldn’t get the ship out of there fast enough–
Sorry I disappointed you.
But he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember because he didn’t live it, and thank the Force for that. Or the Manda. Whatever had brought him back, she would raise a glass to it, now and forever. Their buir was back, and nothing would take him away from her again. Fuck the rules, this was their father.
“I’m glad you’re okay, too.” They could tell Kanan was confused, was lost and trying his best to hold it together for her sake. They sighed, then used the back of her hand to push away the tears falling shamelessly across her cheeks. It was her turn to comfort him, despite the ache in their own chest. (Because that’s what children do for their parents.)
“It’s been about two years since the Empire fell. The New Republic is starting to reinstate some form of government and peace in the galaxy. And–” they hesitated, unsure of the specifics regarding his religion and people. What she did know, though, she would share. “The Jedi aren’t hunted anymore. No more Vader. No more Inquisitors. As far as the Rebellion is concerned, Kanan… you’re a hero.” You’re my hero.
it had taken kanan years to get here. to feel this comfortable with his emotions... with others. having children had never been the plan, even when sabine and ezra had joined. kanan had insisted they wouldn’t matter-- they would be a crew, that was it.
oh how wrong he had been.
the family the six had created... it was the reason for their success. for their strength.
but watching them grow-- seeing them now. he couldn’t have guessed how it would have made him feel. how proud he had become.
kanan smiled a bit, a small chuckle on the edge of his lips. they had always been okay in the end, hadn’t they? perhaps their collective number of loses keeping them from... much.
but as sabine continued, the small smile fell, perhaps sad to divert so quickly. to face reality. what he had missed-- what he had caused even.
not that the words were expected.
“what- no, i mean. no more than anyone,” he continued, hands returning to them, worried they might slip away. “i mean, that’s what the rebellion is, isn’t it?”