AN: Dang guys, dang. That finale kicked my tail. Honestly, cried a little. So, I thought I'd write this to add to my pain. It actually helped me feel a bit better, even though it's kind of depressing. But, oh well, writing has always been that way for me. Writing sad things when I'm sad helps me feel less sad, easy? Yeah. Well, enjoy! And let me know what you think with a review!

Summary: Malachor was a disaster, and Ezra can't seem to swallow down the guilt threatening to eat him alive. [Spoilers for Twilight of the Apprentice]

"Scattering Stars Like Dust"

He couldn't breathe anymore.

It was like…All the air he had ever gathered in his lungs from the moment of his birth to the second his soul died on that desolate planet…It was like it was all gone. His heart and his soul and everything that made him human and a person, existing in the galaxy and not just some life form, but something alive. That was gone. It was gone in blind trust and red blades. It was gone in the blindness of his master and the loss of sight which seemed to mean so much more than losing something so important.

Eyes were windows to the soul.

And Ezra's soul was gone now, and his master's eyes were covered with bandages, but damn it. Damn it he was a broken bit of dust shifting along in the sands of the mind and being buried moment after moment and breath after breath.

His gloveless fingers slid along the metal walls of his cubby hole and Ezra wanted to be cold. He wanted to let himself freeze to death, even though every muscle in his body was aching from the cramped space and the icy air. His bed would be warm. The shared room with Zeb would be very warm, but here he was. He wanted punishment, because it was his blind trust that had separated flesh from bone and life from body.

Soul from window.

"It's really easy," He thought to himself. "It's really easy to just lie down and give up. To freeze here, and let yourself become something wasted. But, then again, that'd be taking the easy way out, and you don't deserve easy."

Ezra let out a quiet whine of pain as a particularly bad ache pierced his heart. His face scrunched up and he felt the sob threatening to attack his chest and burn a hole within him and pull out his ribcage, making it a prison for the crew. He placed his head against the wall, jolting at the cold, but soon settling to accept his fate within his small hiding place inside the organs of the Ghost.

Ezra gripped at his hair. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't. He had trusted, yes, but he was a kid. It was Maul who blinded his master. And it was Vader who had taken Ahsoka from them. But, Ezra had trusted blindly. Without thought. He had scolded Kanan for not trusting him, and now his master was blind. He had trusted Maul with his name. With his life. And here he was.

"I hate you," Ezra thought to himself, and he knew he wasn't directing it at any sort of Sith, but towards himself. "I hate…Myself."

His skin, his muscle, the blood in his body. He hated it all. He hated his bleeding eyes of blue. He hated his ebony hair. He hated the way he smiled. He hated his stupid, naïve trust that he seemed to have when it came to people. He hated seeing the good. He damned it about himself. Suffocate. Suffocate and freeze. Cease.

Ezra hadn't even realized he was slamming the back of his head against the wall repeatedly.

His shoulders stung with each impact and his lungs burned with sobs as tears streaked his face, making his cheeks itch. Horror. It was all horror and destruction in his mind, and there was no escaping it. No reaching out and touching anything good and pure anymore, because he was ruined.

Ezra was blinded suddenly when the door to his cubby slid open, and he was struggling with hands wrapping tightly around his limbs and pulling him from the cramped space. The muscles screamed at the movement, not having moved for several hours and his exhausted eyes cried in the light for sleep, because truly he hadn't slept in the past four days since they had been safe and on the ship.

"Kid, you're exhausted," A voice said, and Ezra knew who it was, but he didn't want to know. He squirmed in the grip, eyes shut tightly and he was slung over the person's shoulder and carried from the room down the hall.

He was exhausted. He was. But, he didn't want to sleep. He didn't deserve the sleep. He needed to stay awake and see the destruction he caused, because he knew it would be ten times worse if he were to fall asleep. He had tried. And he had suffered.

"Kanan, put me down!" He screamed, banging on his master's back, dangling helplessly. A door slid open and then shut, enveloping them into darkness. Pitch black. Worse than the cubby hole he had been in. Ezra grunted when he was dropped down onto the bed, only to be pushed down by his shoulders when he tried to sit up.

"Go to sleep," Kanan's voice was stern, yet gentle and it made Ezra want to scream. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve anyone to be kind to him or to worry about how much rest he was getting. He deserved to cease.

Ezra laid down though, Kanan's arms too strong for him to sit up against. Ezra found the pillows to be too inviting, but the thought of Kanan's bandaged eyes above him in the pitch black was enough to make him not want to sleep. This is what the world would look like to his master forever now. Forever.

And it was Ezra's fault because he had trusted.

He hadn't obeyed.

A sob escaped the child's chest and Kanan's hand flattened on it, shushing him quietly. Kanan said, almost sounding precisely as he did on the ship that terrible day…

"There's nothing left we can do. It's ok."

"It's not ok!" Ezra shouted back, scream ripping through the darkness and shredding it to pieces. Fresh tears were falling and he went on, "It's my fault, Kanan…It's m-my fault. I broke you…"

Ezra's trembling paused when he heard Kanan chuckle quietly, "I'm not broken, Ezra. It takes a lot more to break me than this."

Ezra flew up into a sitting position, knowing he was currently at eye level with Kanan's chest. He cried out, "You're blind! You can't see anything and it's because I chose to trust him and he tried to take you away, he tried t-to…Kanan, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to mess up so bad."

The boy jumped when Kanan put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him into a tight and bone crushing embrace. Ezra's chest was raging with sobs and Kanan allowed a silence to fall over them, continuously reassuring Ezra that he hadn't messed up.

"You did well, Ezra," Kanan whispered. "I'm so proud of you."

Ezra didn't fight in the hold. He didn't speak anymore after that either. Four days of being awake was too much and he wanted nothing more now than to sleep and to sleep as long as he could. Kanan pulled away from the hug only a moment before returning and pressing tissues into Ezra's hands, telling him, "Blow."

Ezra blew his nose, putting the tissues in the waste bin he knew was beside the bed in the darkness. The guilt was still eating him alive, but he could breathe now and laying down on the bed with his master's presence nearby was comforting more than it should have been, because he knew he was scum and he didn't deserve Kanan as his master.

But, for now he would accept the comfort.

Because…He was so damn tired.