Bacta patches or no, Kanan still feels like his bones ache. The inside of his head feels raw, fragile. Some of that is from recent realizations about his own history, and the rest is because there really is a Rebellion. An organized one, even if it remains split into disparate parts most of the time.
And there's another . . . no, not Jedi, but -- someone who knows how things once were. He thinks that a few months ago that would have made him feel better. In fact, he'd probably have tried to turn Ezra over to her, in the hopes that she'd be a better teacher. But --
Not now. In fact, right now is when the quiet of his bunk is getting to him. Too many thoughts, no room for certainties -- and right now he doesn't want to process. Or at least, he doesn't want to process by himself. Maybe Hera --
He's standing bare moments after he thinks of her face, and makes his slow and quiet way down the corridor. There's still a second of hesitation before he knocks, because . . .
no subject
And there's another . . . no, not Jedi, but -- someone who knows how things once were. He thinks that a few months ago that would have made him feel better. In fact, he'd probably have tried to turn Ezra over to her, in the hopes that she'd be a better teacher. But --
Not now. In fact, right now is when the quiet of his bunk is getting to him. Too many thoughts, no room for certainties -- and right now he doesn't want to process. Or at least, he doesn't want to process by himself. Maybe Hera --
He's standing bare moments after he thinks of her face, and makes his slow and quiet way down the corridor. There's still a second of hesitation before he knocks, because . . .
Like all of them, she's had a long few days.
"Hera? Are you awake?"