Check it out, two updates within one week! (a.k.a. I let them be too cute and sweet in that last chapter and immediately had to remedy that with some angst.)

If it's not immediately discernable through the story's context, this picks up just after Ezra realizes that Sabine and Wedge had a brief fling in the past, before their relationship.

It's one of the worst arguments they've ever had. Angry tears sting their eyes and their nails dig painfully into the soft flesh of their palms as biting remarks are slung in both directions through gritted teeth. Somewhere in his subconscious, Ezra is sure that at least half the Yavin base can hear the raised voices behind the closed door of Sabine's quarters, but at the moment, he doesn't care. At the moment, all he can think about is the vision of Sabine and Wedge engaging in a fierce liplock and the fact that she hadn't deigned to be honest with him.

It had happened long before she and Ezra had become an item, she'd said. She didn't tell him about it in order to protect his heart, she'd said. She'd never meant to hurt him, she'd said.

He allows himself a dry and humorless smirk at the irony. All her efforts to avoid hurting him had only resulted in greater pain in the end. The points she's made so far in the argument make sense, and he knows it, but right now, he's not interested in sense.

There's a blaring command over the base's loudspeaker calling all pilots to their station, and she glances at him with worry in her hazel eyes as she reaches for her helmet. The tension still hangs in the air like a fog, but they're out of time.

"I gotta go," she says quietly, as more sirens and intercom commands filter through the speakers built into the ceiling of her quarters, reminding them both of the impending starfighter assault on the Empire's most dangerous weapon.

"I know," he mumbles, unable to look her in the eye. "We'll… we can talk about this when you get back."

She nods, and hesitates for a moment before placing a gloved hand on his cheek, wincing as he bristles at her touch. "I love you," she reminds him. He loves her too - that's why this argument hurts so damn much - but he can't form the words in time before she quietly slips out of her quarters to join the rest of the pilots preparing to take flight against the Death Star.

As the door closes behind her, Ezra sags against the wall, heaving out a shuddering breath as an overpowering weight of emotion bears down on him.

"I love you, too," he whispers into empty space before burying his face in his hands.

He's unaware of how much time has passed as he sits there, the dim light casting ominous shadows across the vibrant and colorful artwork adorning nearly every inch of free space along Sabine's walls. He studies the designs with a sense of awe, amazed at the way her heart has been spilled across the makeshift canvas in brilliant shades of color. That very heart that she'd so artistically displayed across the otherwise drab interior of her quarters is the very heart she'd given to Ezra even before he'd kissed her while sitting on the hull of an X-Wing fighter. The thought is both awe-inspiring and humbling to him.

Ezra isn't sure if he'd been sitting there for minutes or hours, but when a secondary alert for reinforcements blares over the base's loudspeaker, he's snapped out of his funk. It doesn't take long for panic to set in as his mind catches up with the situation - if reinforcements are needed, then the battle is going much worse than anticipated.

And Sabine is out there.

He's outside of her quarters in an instant, his mind racing faster than his legs as he sprints for the command center. He nearly slams right into Kanan in his hurry to get inside, and his mentor has to place a firm hand on either shoulder to pause the hysterics that are just about ready to explode from within Ezra. "You know you're not authorized to barge in there," Kanan says calmly, jerking his head back towards the door in question to emphasize his point.

"What's happening up there?" Ezra asks, his attention still drawn to the door behind the blind Jedi.

"I don't know, Ezra."

"What do you mean you don't know!?" Ezra's tone is incredulous in nature, and while he expects Kanan to react to the anger, his mentor merely tightens his grip on the younger man's shoulders.

"I mean I don't know," he repeated, his face sullen and voice gentle. "And believe me, it kills me just as much as it does you."

Ezra's posture slumps in that moment, and for a second it feels that Kanan is the only thing holding him up. "I didn't tell her I love her," he mumbles, swallowing past a lump in his throat that had formed at some point between feelings of frustration and defeat. "We fought and didn't make up, and I couldn't even tell her."

"She already knows, Ezra."

"But if something happens and that's the last interaction we ever have-"

"Ezra." Kanan's voice is sharp and strong, and the young Jedi snaps his mouth shut. "You do not need to let yourself go there right now. You're right, something very well could happen to her up there. I have to face that fact with Hera every single day. But torturing yourself over the possibilities of the future will do you no good in the present."

Ezra sighs. "I know, I know. You're right."

"You know what you can do, though?" He pauses as the younger man raises a hesitant eyebrow in question.

"What?"

"You can sit and wait with a friend who understands exactly what you're going through."

Ezra forces the corner of his mouth up in a reluctant half-smile, and allows Kanan to lead the way to the hangar bay corridor. He follows his mentor's suit and positions himself carefully on the ground against the wall and out of the way of any Rebel forces scurrying back and forth along the walkway, and closes his eyes to slip into a meditative state.

He reaches out in the Force, hoping to brush across even an echo of Sabine's unique Force signature, but despite his exceptional affinity for detecting it, the distance between them is far too great for him to be able to latch onto. Ezra sighs, and his mind begins to wander to everything he could have and should have said.

"I understand."

"I forgive you."

"I'm believing the best about you, not the worst."

"I love you."

He's vaguely aware of his own heart thumping wildly in his chest at the thought of being unable to express any of those sentiments to Sabine. Behind closed eyes, he pictures her swiveling about in the gunner's seat of Hera's Y-Wing, taking down TIE fighters above the trenches of the Empire's superweapon and feeling the weight of their argument bearing down on her no matter how much she may have been trying to suppress it.

He's so focused on his worries that he nearly misses the surge in the Force as it happens. Kanan's eyes fly open at the same time Ezra's do, and they both look at one another as they realize that someone else, someone incredibly powerful, had just commanded the very energy field they'd been tapped into. Seconds later, the muffled sound of the Death Star's explosion just outside Yavin's atmosphere filters through the temple walls, followed by celebratory shouting and cheering from the base's Rebel forces.

Ezra is amazed at the Rebellion's accomplishment, feeling the unbridled hope that the Empire could be defeated for the first time since he'd first joined up with the crew of the Ghost as a kid, before the haunting experiences of war had left him jaded.

He stalls his joy, however, as he waits for the remaining ships to return. As the X-wings fly in, he notices that the Rebel forces, although victorious, had still suffered significant losses, and there's a twinge in his heart as a majority of the base personnel rush to the X-wing of the pilot that had made the finishing shot, but there's still no sign of Sabine and Hera.

Finally, away from the bustle that has gathered around the previously-unknown Tatooine farmboy who'd only just recently joined the rebellion, a battered Y-wing limps down towards the hangar, setting down just outside so that the smoke filtering from its engine is prevented from filling the space with toxins.

Ezra doesn't even realize he's running toward her until he's nearly careening into her as she steps down the ladder and lands deftly on the ground. He gathers her up into his arms and holds her close, afraid that if he loosens his grip she might just slip away. She awkwardly works to remove her helmet while her face is buried in the crook of his neck, and when she finally manages to wrestle it off and toss it to the ground his lips are at her neck, her jawline and finally on her own, pressing against her desperately and wantingly.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."

She pulls back to look at him, their eyes both red and rimmed with unshed tears. She's not quite sure what to say, and he can tell, but she delivers the best smile she can afford before pressing her lips to his again, letting her actions speak what her voice cannot.

And as the hangar fills with celebration of Luke Skywalker's magnificent achievement against the Empire, Ezra Bridger holds Sabine Wren tight and can't help but think that Force-damn it, he's going to marry this girl someday.