Not How Your Stories End

Chapter 18

"Have I ever told you that I am deeply, madly in love with you?" he huffed, cradling the disposable cup as if it were made of something precious.

"Are you talking to me, or should I give you and the caf some privacy?" she quipped back before taking a long dreg out of her own cup. Kanan chuckled, leaning in for a quick peck. Caught by the suddenness of the action, Hera jerked her cup out of the way narrowly in time to avoid spilling the hot drink all over the both of them.

"Alright," Kanan started, pulling back, "I'm tapping out." He rolled his neck, a string of popping sounds following the motion. "Call me on coms if you need anything? I'm just going to be taking a nap down the hall. Even with the outbursts, he's been pretty good about controlling his abilities for the past couple of days. I guess it's sorta like muscle memory. That being said, if things start getting out of hand, don't hesitate to-"

"Kanan, I know the drill," Hera stopped him, only temporarily flashing back to last week when a conversational misunderstanding led to the door flying off its tracks, fighting the ever-loving kriff out of a poor, passing medic. "Now, go sleep. And maybe try for a shower, too?" she said, allowing a healthy dose of wryness to bleed into her tone.

He waved her off, starting down the hall and responding without turning back.

"Yeah yeah, you're one to talk!"

Hera smiled, turning towards the door behind her. She desperately hoped that, if Kanan was to be believed about Ezra's attitude today, that the day was not beyond salvaging. With a brief inhale, she waved her credential pass to the door, feeling the slight gust of air rush against her as it opened.

At first glance, it was clear that emotions had been running high, earlier. But it seemed as though Ezra has somewhat calmed down since then. He was sitting up in his bed, but he hadn't turned to look at her as she entered. Although that could be as much because he didn't hear her as anything. Auditory processing was just another thing that was going to take some work.

"Good morning, Ezra," she tried, the door quietly snapping shut behind her. She wanted to give an auditory cue another go, not only to help push his brain but also to avoid startling him by just appearing at his side. Even without a brain injury, he was still a child of trauma, and sneaking up on him while in a vulnerable state was never a good idea.

Ezra raised his head a little, his brows furrowing. It was clear that he had heard her, but couldn't place what he had heard or where it came from.

Pushing it just a bit farther, Hera took a tiny step forward and cleared her throat.

"Hello," she tried again, this time with more success. Ezra turned his head towards her, looking her in the eyes, albeit somewhat blankly. It was another few moments before he responded with a slight nod in her direction. Whether it was because he had actually processed her greeting or that he had simply inferred a socially acceptable acknowledgement of hearing another person speak was a different story, but one she could live without knowing for the moment.

Slowly and deliberately, Hera made her way to the chair next to Ezra's bed. A chair that, over the course of the last few weeks, had seen a bit of a makeover courtesy of Sabine. Sure, it still wasn't as comfortable as her pilot's chair aboard the Ghost, but the amateur upholstery job did wonders in making it no longer quite so murderous on the back. Just another thoughtful gesture she would have to add to the list of thank-yous that would be due after all of this was over (whatever "over" meant, at that point).

"Are you hungry, Ezra? I brought some snacks with me, if you'd like anything." Hera pulled the small tray attached to the bed closer to her, spreading her offerings across it in the hopes that the added visual stimuli would help Ezra piece together her words.

Ezra held a hand out over the colorful wrappers of the various pre-packaged snacks that lay in front of him. His fingers ghosted over the options, not daring to pick one up just yet.

"For me?" Ezra turned to Hera, his expression cautious, but not hostile. That was something.

"Yes, for you. If you'd like, that is," Hera reassured him, nodding and gesturing towards the table once again. Ezra mirrored her, nodding his head as he looked back down at the table before him.

With a shaking hand, Ezra reached forward to grab one of the packages, missing spectacularly. His depth perception had been shaky, at best, but today seemed to be particularly rough.

Fighting back the instinct to rush in and help, Hera let him try again. The practice would be good for both his recovery and his sense of independence.

Ezra tried again, missing once more, although not by quite as large a margin this time. His hand had made it to a package, just evidently not the one he had been intending based off of the frustrated expression he was beginning to sport.

Hera sucked in a breath. She held back any words of encouragement that would just serve to patronize him and let him try again. On the third try, he finally reached his goal, holding up a bag of travel biscuits with a triumphant sparkle in his eyes. Prize in hand, he looked to her, giving her permission to, no, asking her for an acknowledgement of his accomplishment.

Hera smiled, nodding her head.

"Nice, enjoy." She leaned back, grabbing a snack for herself from the small stash. Ezra returned her smile, tearing into the package at hand.

Yep, today could be salvaged after all.