A/N: I started this right after I started the previous installment and then just sat on it because I got distracted. No Ezrabine this time, and I changed the summary so this would be a little less misleading. Sorry, y'all. How'd I do with Zeb? I've never had him as my POV character before. Constructive criticism welcome!

Sure

Zeb

The ration bars tasted even more like sand than usual and Zeb couldn't bring himself to choke a whole one down. Life's too short for things you don't like, he thought wryly. He sat back against a stone wall, watching the sky begin to lighten at the mouth of the cave. It was a testament to the frenetic blur of the last couple days that he felt neither confusion nor curiosity when he saw Ezra and Sabine coiled around one another, holding tightly, hallway between waking and sleeping. He figured maybe they were cold, or maybe they were scared, or maybe they were taking a lesson from Hera and Kanan and not ignoring whatever feelings were between them.

Hera and Kanan.

Karabast.

That had been painful to watch the last eight years. He'd joined the crew right in the middle of some of the worst of it, too. The first time Zeb ever met Kanan was in a bar on some pseudo-civilized world, and the man had been half0druink in the middle of the day. Zeb very vividly recalled hearing him proclaim that he'd burn the karking galaxy down for that woman, and Zeb, with all the lurid interest of one watching a speeder crash, sat down to listen. (By his reckoning, Kanan never touched another drop of liquor after that day.) Later, Zeb saw a green-skinned Twi'lek walking through a crowded market with a graceful stride and unforgettable fire in her eyes and he though, I'll just bet that's the girl.

Sure enough, she was.

And when she turned out to be the contact that an acquaintance of an acquaintance had set him up with, Zeb joined her crew out of curiosity as much as anything else; he wanted to know exactly how the Bar Man and the Intimidating Green Girl managed to work together. He was surprised to find that, as a team, they did extraordinary work.

It was everything else they seemed to have trouble with.

Only, there was no "everything else" as far as Zeb could tell, and maybe that was the problem. It seemed Hera and Kanan both wanted more from their relationship than she was willing to give, and Zeb doubted whether they ever talked about it outright. As weeks passed, he realized that the tension between Kanan and Hera was something that ebbed and flowed by the day, and sometimes faded altogether. Maybe it was something they were used to. Or maybe they just realized that their unresolved conflicts weren't worth wrecking their friendship over—if friendship was the right word. It was obvious they shared something stronger, but Zeb never dared to ask.

The eternally-stoic Lasat never said much of anything about it at all, except to hand out the occasional, painfully trite piece of advice when they were in the middle of a rough patch. He watched them from a distance mostly, even after he'd been aboard the Ghost for years. Didn't mean he wasn't rooting for them, though.

As the sun continued to brighten the sky, Zeb could just make out Kanan's form outside the cave, kneeling in his meditative pose. Casting one last glance at Ezra and Sabine, he made his way out to the older Jedi. Ryder was nearby, chin touching his chest, dead asleep.

Zeb cleared his throat. "You know Ryder zonked out, right?"

"Couple hours ago." Kanan nodded. "It's okay—I can see everything I need to."

"I believe you." Zeb did believe him, but that didn't keep the fur on his arms from standing on end. If he hadn't completely adjusted to Kanan's spooky, Jedi-Force-stuff by now, he doubted he ever really would.

"How are you holding up?"

Zeb stared. That was the question he'd come out here to ask. "Me?"

Kanan's mouth twitched sarcastically. "You did say Ryder's asleep."

"Uhh…" Zeb scratched the back of his neck. "I'm…good, I guess? Was kind of wondering about you." He was very pointedly not saying Hera's name, or referring to the fact that she was who-knows-where and in who-knows-what condition.

"I'm okay," Kanan said, and he sounded like he meant it.

"You're—" Zeb could only finish that thought with incredulous silence. "Well that's good, then. Good." With a short nod, Zeb turned and headed back toward the cave. He didn't get very far.

"But you're not," Kanan guessed.

Before he could even process what he was doing, Zeb turned around and stormed back to Kanan. "No, I'm not especially okay. You know why? I'll tell you why. You ever get tired of having so much taken from you? I do. Like it's not enough we both survived bloody genocide—the galaxy decides to take Hera, too?" He stopped, breathing raggedly. Kanan was watching him, face impassive and patient. It was irksome. "And I know—" He shook his head. "You and she—Hera's your—I mean, it is how it is between you. But I…care about her too, you know?" He cringed to hear himself say that out loud, but he kept on going. "Not like that—obviously—just—" He cut himself off with a frustrated growl.

Kanan tilted his head. "Just what, Zeb?"

He was silent a long moment before he decided to answer. "I had a sister," he said distantly. It had been a long time since he'd spoken of her. The memories ached. He didn't say her name—couldn't. "She was older, took care of me when we were kids. She died young. Her body wasn't strong, but she had this…heart and fire about her." He paused, scuffing his foot in the dirt. "Hera's…a kriffing lot like her."

"You ever tell her that?"

"No."

"You should," Kanan said with a small smile. "I think it'd mean a lot. She'd like that."

"Yeah, maybe." He nodded, turning back toward the cave.

"She's not lost, Zeb," Kanan called. Zeb just shook his head and kept walking. He didn't see how this could possibly turn out well, and it pained him that Kanan was still hanging on to optimism. Zeb felt about as bleak as he ever had. He was sure—if this all went as wrong as he expected it to—that he could pick up and rebuild his life again.

He just wasn't sure he wanted to.