(no subject)

[notallofus]

Kanan doesn't join Hera in the cockpit as she makes the jump to hyperspace. He mutters something about checking on the Phantom, he makes little effort to focus on the maintenance calculations, and before he knows it Chopper is shooing him away, leaving him to wander back to the lounge.

He takes a seat by the Dejarik board, leaning forward and resting his palms on his knees. His mind goes, unbidden, to his old breathing exercises - the enveloping silence of space, his eyes set, unfocused, on the metal floor, and their cool, familiar voices rush back to him, even as he tries to push them away. Kanan feels like a thirsty man refusing a drink of water, a strange feeling, since for so long pushing it away, ignoring it, had come so easily. There had seemed to be a mutual apathy.

But it didn't feel so apathetic anymore.

Comments

[for_everyone]

"Not all trouble."

That would be ridiculous. And impossible, because Kanan is completely correct in his assessment.

"Just some of it. Sometimes. When the occasion calls for it."

She grins, then, though her gaze remains serious -- and perhaps a little affectionate.

"Speaking of calling, I'd better go back and check on Chop before he decides to get really cranky."

[notallofus]

"Right. I'll, um -"

His gaze turns back to the table, and then the holocron still resting on the other side.

[for_everyone]

Hera rests her hand on his shoulder for a second, on her way out of the lounge.

Sometimes words are just awkward.

[notallofus]

Kanan listens to her footsteps as Hera leaves. He's still watching the holocron, which for the moment remains dark, and silent.

After a few minutes, he rises from the seat, picks up the holocron, and heads back toward his room.