61

COLD. COLD like Kanan had never felt, never imagined, never known to be possible.

It felt like every Sith Lord who had ever existed in the history of the galaxy was gathered around him.

It felt like what death must feel like.

And it was what Kanan and Ezra's would feel like.

Kanan thrashed around in the absolute darkness, barely able to control his own movements. The instant he had dove in, he had been struck with a shock worse than any before. The water dragged him down by his heavy suit. The subzero cold immediately struck straight into the very marrow of his bones. It numbed his brain. It froze every vein, every nerve, every cell in his limbs. And it felt like it even stopped his heart.

His fingers brushed something. Kanan threw his flickering, dying, fading consciousness into one action: SAVE.

His hands clamped shut over the back of Ezra's suit and he surged towards where he vaguely recalled the surface to be. The Force was with him, guiding him, fueling him then more than it ever had.

But it was not enough.

Kanan's body stopped moving. The breath held within his lungs winked out. He drifted backwards again, the water pulling him, pulling him down.

Above him, there was a bright light that flashed into his eyes as they slid slowly shut.

I failed you.

And that was Kanan's dying thought.

"Kanan.."

The voices reached him. Hera's. Zeb's. Sabine's. Ezra's. They were all whispering at once, unevenly, almost a single voice but not quite.

And then they snapped into one. One he hadn't heard for fourteen long years...

"Kanan... Kanan, please..."

His eyes sluggishly flickered half-open. He saw, kneeling above him, the blurred shape of his master, Depa Billaba.

"Master..." he croaked out hoarsely.

"Shhh." Depa pressed her hand against Kanan's forehead. There were tears in her eyes, dripping down her face. "Come back to me, Kanan... please."

Kanan weakly reached up to touch her hand. He smiled feebly. "I... won't... leave you... not again."

Depa broke into a sob and pressed her head against Kanan's chest.

Suddenly, he was aware.

This wasn't Depa.

It was Hera.

And Kanan was cold. So cold. And yet there was warmth beginning to seep back into his flesh.

"Hera..." Kanan murmured. His eyebrows met in confusion. "Where... why.. what happened to.."

He abruptly took notice of the room around them. At first, it was horribly blurred, but the longer he looked, the clearer it became. He was in the hall just beyond the entry ramp - inside the Ghost, lying half submerged in a small, circular, transparent pool full of steaming water.

And then everything rushed back to him.

"Ezra!" he cried out, sitting bolt upright. "Ezra! No! Hera, we have to - we have to -" His voice, filled with desperation, cracked.

He remembered it more slowly.

The water.

The cold.

Ezra falling through the ice.

Freezing.

Drowning...

I... I didn't save him.

Tears spilled out of Kanan's closed cyan eyes and over his high, tan cheekbones.

"Ezra is..."

"I'm what, Kanan?"

Kanan gave a lurch, jerking his head straight up. His eyes flew open and his heart sprang back to life.

He turned to stare.

In the hallway beyond them stood Zeb and Sabine.

They supported a feeble, blue-faced, blanket-wrapped Ezra Bridger between them.

He offered Kanan a weak smile.

"Not lost anymore?"

Hera looked up and joined Kanan in uttering a strangled gasp of indescribable joy.

Zeb and Sabine helped Ezra stagger over to them. The boy fell to his knees to wrap his cold arms around Kanan's neck.

Kanan hugged him back, so fiercely and tightly his hug was almost violent.

"Ezra.." he whispered faintly, a relieved sob almost catching the word in his throat. He pressed his hand gently against the back of his Padawan's head. The boy's raven black hair was still damp.

And Ezra was crying, shaking, pressing his face against Kanan's soaked shirt.

"It's all right," Kanan murmured, hugging him even closer.

"You're home."

THE END

Oh, my gosh... I... -sniffle- can't believe that... finally... after 63 chapters, so many months of writing - this is the end of this fanfiction. This is possibly one of the longest and best things that I have ever written. I am so proud of it, and that is all because of all of you. You guys kept it alive. Without you, this story would have stopped a very long time ago.

Now, I deeply and mildly sincerely apologize for every cliffhanger I wrote, every heartwrenching disaster, and every time I quite purposefully threw the lot of you for a loop. But now we're here, and I couldn't be more overjoyed to have finally made it. Thank you so, so much for bearing with an evil author for so long.

But remember, while this particular fanfiction and journey may be over, the tale certainly isn't. Vizago sold that kyber crystal to somebody named Marek - will that come back to bite our rebels? Just how much memory has Ezra regained, and what haunts him from his time being forced into the Dark Side by the Inquisitor - and his master, Darth Vader himself? Will we ever see the survivors of the Battle Star's destruction again? Just what will Tseebo have to say to Ezra? And, most importantly of all, THE INQUISITOR ESCAPED! Where did he go - and when will he come back?

Knowing me, of course, all of these things will certainly resurface in the future sequel and even interquel.

But for now...

..Arty out!