#post zero hour

When the ship was safely in hyperspace, Kanan quietly let Kallus into a room on the Ghost that was currently deserted. Judging by the half-made bunk beds against the wall, Kallus assumed it was living quarters, but he was too distracted by the growing pain in his shoulders and ribs to try and piece together whose room it was.

“I’ll give you a minute,” Kanan said. And then Kallus was alone again, with the forgiving, kind voice of the Jedi echoing in his brain. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be spoken to softly. He was lucky these people whom he’d hunted across the galaxy for years had even bothered to pick up his escape pod, rather than speeding away from the Imperial fleet and applying the rule of “serves him right.”

Something in him cracked. He began to sob, silently, terrified of what he had done in betraying the Empire, overwhelmed by a thousand different strident feelings he couldn’t even name. The heavy breaths hurt (every movement seemed to hurt, now that his adrenaline rush was wearing thin) and his head was pounding. Was the world really spinning, or was that just him?

At the first hiss of the door sliding open, Kallus dragged his sleeve hastily across his face to remove any tears or snot that might give away that he’d been crying—a bad decision, really, given his black eye, which stung at the rough contact.

It wasn’t Kanan who stepped into the room, slightly awkwardly and with bright green eyes that reflected back at Kallus those unnamable emotions.

It was Zeb.

Kallus took a step back, hands clenched at his sides. He knew his eyes were red and he could feel spots on his face where he had missed tears, and he hoped Zeb wouldn’t notice. He had no right to cry in front of this man, of all people.

Zeb stared at him for a moment, and Kallus could feel him mentally checking off all the things that were currently wrong on Kallus’s person. Hunched posture from his injured ribs; blotchy face; bloodstains on his uniform and dried blood on his lip.

“I brought you some clothes,” Zeb said. In the other hand he held a medkit, and Kallus realized with a sinking feeling that those supplies were for him. What a waste of resources that seemed. “They’re probably not your size, but they’re better than the Imperial things you’re wearing.”

Kallus took a breath before answering, surprised at how steady he was able to force his voice to be. “Thank you,” he said.

Then there was a horrible pause as Kallus realized he wouldn’t be able to remove his chest armor, much less his shirt, without help, and he could see the exact same knowledge dawning on Zeb’s face. “Karabast,” he said. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you.”

Kallus shook his head after only a brief moment of thought. He didn’t have the strength to punish himself any further. Whether or not he was worthy of Zeb’s help would have to wait until he was healed. “If you don’t mind,” he said, taking another shaky breath as he once again met Zeb’s gaze.

He didn’t look angry. He almost seemed…proud? That wasn’t right. Kallus was seeing things; his brain had been shaken up by his escape and he was imagining things that weren’t there. “I don’t,” Zeb said. He crossed the room and set the clothes down on the lower bunk. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the empty space next to them.

Kallus did as he was told, relieved to be off his feet. The leg he’d injured on Bahryn had been hurting horribly since his fight with Thrawn, particularly his knee. He might need to consider getting a brace, he realized, if he wanted to keep fighting—which he did.

Zeb unclasped the sides of Kallus’s ISB-issued armor, dumping it on the floor. “Sabine’ll get a kick out of painting that,” Zeb said. “You can wear our colors instead of Imperial ones.” “Give it to somebody else,” Kallus said. “I don’t want it.” Zeb gave him another strange look that he couldn’t parse. “Whatever you say.” He began to work at the clasps of Kallus’s uniform shirt. They definitely wasn't built for his large, clawed fingers. “So…you’re a Rebel now,” he said. “Still think you made the right decision?”

There weren’t words to describe how firmly Kallus was convinced of it. He was terrified, staring into the face of the unknown, but he knew he’d done the right thing—he just wasn’t sure how to live with the consequences. How to build a new life for himself out of the ruins of his old one…which had been built on the ruins of so many other people’s lives.

So Kallus simply nodded, trying to keep himself from spilling any more tears. The thing that made that impossible was the gentle way Zeb worked the unclasped shirt from his torso, pulling off one sleeve and then the other, grumbling angrily in that deep, rumbling voice when he saw the bruises on Kallus’s side.

“I apologize,” Kallus said immediately, his voice stiff and cracked like old, uncared-for leather. “This isn’t fair.” Zeb helped him get his arms into the new shirt he’d brought, leaving the clasps undone; the medics would only have to undo them again later to treat his injuries properly. Then he draped a quilted jacket across Kallus’s shoulders.

“You just uprooted your entire life, Kallus,” Zeb said, sighing and adjusting a non-existent crease in the jacket. “I would think it was weird if you didn’t cry.”

“Not in front of you. You shouldn’t comfort me.” Kallus moved backwards, further into the bunk, away from Zeb’s touch. He didn’t deserve empathy and he didn’t want pity. “This shouldn’t be your problem.”

Zeb got up from the floor where he’d been kneeling and sat on the edge of the bunk, staring at the opposite wall instead of at Kallus. “Maybe not,” he agreed. “Maybe I should say it’s none of my business. Maybe I should leave you to deal with it alone. But when you worked with me on that ice moon, and saved my friends from the Empire, and fed us all that intel as Fulcrum, I think you kind of made yourself my business.” He turned back towards Kallus, his face serious, his eyes soft. “Now let me check your other injuries.”

Kallus complied, shifting closer to Zeb. Even if it didn’t sit right with him, he didn’t think he could refuse Zeb anything. He would do whatever he was asked, whatever he was told—even allow Zeb to take on some of his burden—if it would make a fraction of a difference. If it would help him so much as an inch towards making amends.

With his broad hands carefully gentle, Zeb put a few stitches in Kallus’s broken lower lip. Kallus wondered where Zeb had learned those skills; if it was gained during his time in the Honor Guard of Lasan or in the Rebellion. For a moment, he was lost in wondering, searching Zeb’s face while he was intent on his task as though he could find an answer there. He only realized Zeb had paused and asked him a question when Zeb tilted his head to the side, staring at Kallus for an answer of his own.

“Could you repeat that?”

Zeb rolled his eyes. “I said, can you see alright? That black eye doesn’t look too good.”

His eyes were dry now, but there was still a blur in the left side of his vision. “Actually, I can’t,” he said, swallowing hard. “Everything to the left is hazy.”

“It'll probably need a while to heal,” Zeb said. “If it doesn’t, we’ll get you fitted with some visual aids.” He dabbed something cold and clear on the bruised skin. “There’s nothing more I can do until we land, but you should be fine.”

The pain in his side begged to argue, and he was pretty sure that something in there was broken, but Kallus nodded. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “For everything."

How could he put that everything into words? Thank you for not killing me on Bahryn, thank you for telling me to look for the answers, thank you for believing me when I was Fulcrum, thank you for picking me up just now, thank you for tending my wounds.

He didn’t need to. The way Zeb was looking at him, he already knew.

“We have enough people on board to handle things,” Zeb said, his voice equally low. “I can stick around here for a while if you want the company.”

Kallus felt a smile tugging at the stitches on his lip. More everything to be grateful for. “Alright.”

They sat there together on the bunk for a while in silence. It was a comfortable silence, somehow, and Kallus finally began to relax, not breathing easily past the injuries to his ribs but certainly breathing more easily than before.

“You were limping,” Zeb said, breaking the quiet. “When you came on board you were limping.”

“Once you’re wounded, that body part becomes a target. It’s not so bad, now that my weight’s been off it.” Zeb leaned back against the wall. “That’s good.” He extended one arm to Kallus. “Come on, Kal. We’ve got time before we land anywhere, you can rest.”

Kanan and Ezra had spent time helping with the severe triage, but Hera expected they were probably taking a moment to bond and meditate now that they were out of immediate danger.  She could speak with Zeb about their supplies before conferring with Dodonna and Rebel Command in the temporary briefing room they’d set up in the galley.

She didn’t expect the sight of one Agent Kallus, in the corner - ex-agent, she reminded herself - to disarm her, but there he was, his physical presence in the passageway triggering a flight response.  Her only interaction had been with Fulcrum, encrypted messages, data drops, and modulated recordings.  She hadn’t much had the opportunity to put his face with his double-role; it would take some time to earn her full trust, despite the others’ endorsements.  

Hera took a deep breath to say something out of formality as she passed...and frowned.  

Despite her reservations, she did not like the way he was huddled against the durasteel, looking dead on his feet. 

Uncomfortable.

It was a miracle as many people survived as had. They should all be dead, but they weren’t, and for that Zeb would be eternally grateful. Zeb glanced around at his team, his family they were all here safe and alive despite everything they went though. Their victory wasn’t without heavy loss, but in the end they were alive and they would recover and would keep fighting. In the end, that’s all that mattered.

 Ezra and Sabine where saying their goodbye’s as Sabine was sadly leaving them to help her people. Zeb understood, so well, but that didn’t make it any easier for them to see her go. He could only hope she’d be back with them on the Ghost for good.

 Chopper and AP-5 where with Red, bickering over how to safely reach Yavin while Kanan and Hera where off helping patch up the survivors. Zeb scanned the survivors, noting that Kallus was keeping a wide birth from the others, refusing to look any of them in the eye. As he made his way over to the ex-agent, he realized he still hadn’t been patched up.

 Zeb winced at the memory of when he first saw Kallus walk onto the bridge of the Ghost, beaten within an inch of his life, exhausted and clearly in pain but refusing to show his pain in front of anyone. Why wasn’t he getting any sort of medical attention for his injuries? Zeb quickly made his way over to Kallus, surprised Kallus hadn’t noticed him yet.

 “Hey Kallus,” Zeb greeted, startling him.

 “Zeb,” Kallus greeted with a small nod of his head. “I’m glad to see you all survived.”

 “Yea, we’re lucky,” Zeb agreed. “But we all should be thanking you, without that warning things could have gone a lot worse.” Kallus’s face fell and Zeb’s words.

 “No….you should hate me-“

 “Kallus, I already told you, Lasan is behind me, you’re a different man now, better-“

 “That’s not what I meant but it’s still true,” Kallus snapped. “Thrawn found your base because of me!”

 “No one blames you,” Zeb said. “No one can stand up to being tortured-“

 “No,” Kallus said, running a hand through his disheveled hair in distress. “I was stupid- I overheard Thrawn saying he knew about the attack on Lothal so I tried to send a warning out but I realized the message was being jammed and Thrawn revealed he knew I was Fulcrum all along!”

 “If he was jamming the message how did we get your message?” Zeb asked.

 “I fought him and destroyed the device he was using to jam the signal but he then used the trajectory of the message to find your base,” Kallus said, voice breaking. “Because of me Thrawn found your base and nearly killed everyone-“

 “That’s not your fault!” Zeb firmly said, grabbing Kallus’s shoulders.

 “But it is!”

 “You were trying to warn us that our mission would fail, you did the right thing!” Zeb firmly said. “Thrawn is smart, really smart. He would have just ambushed us on Lothal if you hadn’t sent the message!”

 “I just feel like there should have been something I could have done,” Kallus whispered, unable to look Zeb in the eye.

 “There wasn’t, trust me,” Zeb gently said, squeezing Kallus’s shoulders. “You’ve done so much for us. Thank you.” Kallus finally looked up at Zeb, shock written across his face.

 “Zeb I-…thank you….for everything,” Kallus eventually said.

 “Of course,” Zeb said. “Now come on, let’s get you patched up.”

 “I’m fine,” Kallus assured.

 “You sure don’t look fine,” Zeb said. “Now come on or I will carry you.”

 “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me,” Zeb said, smirking down at Kallus.

 “Alright, fine you win,” Kallus groaned, reluctantly following Zeb.

 “I knew you’d see it my way,” Zeb said, smirking at him, the pair fell into a comfortable silence as Zeb led them into his room. Zeb gestured for Kallus to sit on the bed as Zeb pulled out a med kit. Kallus moved to take it from Zeb, but the lasat gently batted his hand away saying, “I’ve got it.”

 “You probably have more important things to worry about,” Kallus protested.

 “Not at the moment,” Zeb said, opening the kit and grabbing something to clean Kallus’s cuts with. The pair fell silent again as Zeb gently cleaned Kallus’s wounds, trying to be gently as he cleaned Kallus’s wounds, fury filling him as he saw how badly Thrawn hurt Kallus.

 “I never got to thank you,” Kallus whispered, nervously wringing his hands.

 “For what?” Zeb asked, looking at him in confusion.

 “For everything,” Kallus said. “For saving me.”

“Technically that was Hera,” Zeb said, shrugging.

 “I mean saving me from myself,” Kallus clarified. “For showing me the truth before-” Zeb could only imagine where Kallus was trying to go with that.

 “I know you would have figured it out eventually,” Zeb gently said, trying to keep his mind from wandering to those dark places.

 “I’m flattered but I doubt it,” Kallus admitted, unable to look him in the eye.

 “Hey,” Zeb said, placing a hand on Kallus’s shoulder. “You’re a good man Kallus, you fought for what you thought was right but when you found out the truth you risked everything to try and fix it, so thank you.” Zeb squeezed Kallus’s shoulder as he looking up at Zeb.

 “You and your friends keep thanking me…after all I’ve done-”

 “It’s in the past,” Zeb firmly said. “The man that you where died on Bahryn and a new man walked off that moon, a good man. One I would gladly die fighting beside.” Kallus stared at him in shock, opening and closing his mouth several times to respond, but unable to form any words.

 “You never cease to amaze me Zeb,” Kallus finally said, a weak smile on his face. Zeb grinned at him before sighing,

 “Now we have to get to the….less fun part of this.”

 “What do you mean?” Kallus wearily asked.

 “I know Thrawn did a number on you, so I need you to take your shirt off so I can take a look.” Zeb informed him.

 “Right…” Kallus sighed, slowly peeling off his armor before yanking off his undershirt, hissing in pain as he moved.

 “Why did he do this to you?” Zeb growled when he saw the bruises that covered Kallus’s torso. Kallus humorlessly laughed and asked,

 “Why wouldn’t they? I’m a traitor and Thrawn wanted to punish me.”

 “That blue bastard will pay,” Zeb growled.

 “Zeb you don-“

 “I know I don’t, I want to,” Zeb firmly said. “And so will everyone else, I guarantee it.”

 “Thank you,” Kallus said, weakly smiling at him, clearly fighting exhaustion.

 “Let’s finish bandaging you up so you can get some sleep.” Zeb gently said, Kallus tiredly nodded, letting Zeb finish patching him up. Once finished Zeb said, “Lay down and get some sleep, I’ll have new clothes for you once you wake up.”

 “Don’t toss it,” Kallus sleepily mumbled, reaching for his breast plate.

 “Why? You don’t need it anymore,” Zeb asked, confused. Why did he want to hang onto something from his past?”

 “It’d be a shame to waste good armor,” Kallus mumbled, ripping off his rank bar and smashing it to the ground, stepping on it for good measure. “Miss Wren could probably repaint it or something and give it to someone who really needs it.”

 “That’s a good idea,” Zeb said, scooping up the armor. “Now get some sleep.”

 “I don’t want to take your bed….” Kallus mumbled, letting out a yawn.