(A/N I've wanted do write a self-harm for a while now, but none of the narratives seemed to fit - as this is... also based on me. This is more of a vent for my emotions, so if you don't like the style or aren't comfortable with this topic, leave well enough alone. This was originally a little different, but I forgot to save and lost it. I ended it where I no longer needed to write, so let me know if you want more - 2 or 3 shot max
Also, season 2 fall finale spoilers
Thoughts or onomatopeia or particularly emphasized words
Numb. Nothingness. That empty feeling when you're completely void of all emotion, all feeling. Shaking my head rapidly, I try to snap out of it. Kanaan, or worse Zeb, could walk in any second. Can't let them see me like this. Conceal, can't let them know.
"Kid?" The door wooshes open, Hera in the doorway. "We're going for supplies. Anything you need?"
Hanging just another fake smile over the top of my jawbone, I shake my head. Her smile falters for a moment, or did it? Couldn't be. It was too brief a moment even if she did care. Hmph, as of anyone could care for such a pathetic weakling. I slump against the cold metal wall.Stupid, useless child, that voice chants in my head.Of course they don't want you to be with them. You're such a disgrace, afailure! Who cries over people he's known to be dead for years. YEARS!Breathing hard, I try to ignore that part of myself. That part of me that, the wants... No. Can't make them think even less of me. Ah, but they can't, cam they. They can't even look at you! Zeb, Sabine, Kanaan, even Chopper avoids you!
He-I'm right. Sighing, I curl further into myself, wishing there was a way-
A small glint of a thin-bladed, metal knife peeks out from the hidden tear in the lining of my sack before shooting into my hand. Closing my eyes, I relish in the first sensation I've had in what feels like months. The sharp pain in my right palm. The metallic taste of blood in the air. I scrape the small buildup of rust onto my belt. Breathing in the scent deeply, I tug at the false seam in my left sleeve. I grimace in disgust that I ever thought they might care enough to think about my clothes. Even off the street, I still know. You cut, you're weak. You're weak, you die. Scanning the exposed, scar-riddled flesh, I search for a blank canvas. Ah, the last patch just above my wrist. Any farther, and I'd have to wear gloves constantly again. Taking a shaky breath, I relax my wrist and drag the crimson-stained blade just above that pulsing vein ever so close.
I smile grimly, transfering a few precious credits to the smuggler for his tiny cache of spine tree roots. Hardly worth the hundred credits for a mere handful, but... Ezra needs something. We don't really need a supply run, but we all - well most - thought it would be best to give the kid some space. Cursing under my breath, I wish for the millionth time that I knew something, anything, that could help him. I almost wish he had never had that vision- I stumble forward, a tidal wave of emotions crashing into me through the Force. Oh no...
"HERA!" I call over the com. "Something's wrong. I need to get back to Ezra."
"Kanaan? What's going on!" The others sound concerned, too, but I need to help my padawan. Dashing back to the speedster, I rocket back to the ship, hoping to the Force I would arrive in time. Why didn't I feel anything before? There isn't a darkness without, but so much pain... I flinch, almost flying off the speedster as another wave crashes into me. Clenching my teeth, I try to send a pulse of calm reassurance, but it's lost in the oceans of jumbled emotions. Leaping off the speedster as it stops, I run to Ezra's room faster than I've run before, not even bothering to press a button as I force swipe the door open. I gasp, frozen at the sight of Ezra crumpled on the floor, a small knife jammed unto his shoulder from a fall, but that wouldn't cause that much... I rush to his side, frantically pressing Zeb's sheets to his wrists as the pool of blood keeps growing.
"Ezra! Ezra, can you hear me? Stay with me, just stay with me. I-I can't lose you too."
(Ezra's POV - starting a few minutes before)
Sighing with the tiny measure of pleasure that I didn't deserve, I let another line of blood loose from my now alabaster skin. Hissing, I freeze as the knife hits... Karablast! Blood sprays everywhere from my right wrist. Too close, too close! I frantically pop the knife out and press my left palm against it, but it only makes the left bleed more. Suddenly light-headed, I sway back and forth for a moment before falling onto the floor, more pain sprouting from my shoulder where I landed on the knife. Biting back a cry of pain, I frantically look through hazy vision to find the first aid kit. Other side of the room. By... the door. No, must stay... awake. Unable to hold back a moan, I try to push with my legs towards the door, but they give out as my vision fades to darkness.
As my heartbeat slows to a stop, I hear a faint voice tug at me. Something... familiar. A few moments in limbo and I feel myself pulled back from the brink.
My entire body feels like millions of loth-cats are clawing and biting every milimeter, inside and out. Pulling a ragged breath into sore lungs, I wonder what that-
Yes, that sound. What is it? It's in time with the pounding in my ears... Karablast! I force my eyelids to open, albeit excruciatingly slowly. I'm in some sort of med bay, not on the Ghost that's for sure.
A heart rate monitor. Panting lightly, I sluggishly turn my head, eyes immediately snapping closed to avoid Kanaan's stare.
"Ezra..." he hesitates, reaching towards my arm. Karablast! I wince, knowing he must have seen the scars. seen the scars. Karablast, he's seen the... the cuts. Oh force-
A single, traitorous tear slips as I hear someone rush in. Shrinking in on myself, I try to curl defensively, only to find my arms and legs restrained. Instincts screaming, I jolt upright, setting off more heart rate monitor alarms as I use the Force to snap the bonds. Jerking free of IVs, I force leap up a vent, only to cry out as my wrists screamed under the weight. Collapsing back onto the bed in a ball, I instinctually try to hide my now-bleeding wrists.
More people rush in, but I can't see them through a haze of tears and confusion. What am I doing here? Why does anyone even care?
"Ezra, please, it's going to be. Be all right," Kanaan's voice cut through the chaos. Wait, why is he even here? "Ezra, let me help you." I shudder, his light touch on my back resting almost too close to where... I start to shake, internally screaming as the memory causing the scar replayed in my head
"No, please, just stop. Just don't... I'll do anything, just not that, just please stop!" I scream, petrified of the men surrounding me. Skin crumpling beneath flames, I scream wordessly as my back is flayed open, almost ripping me in half. Crying in full force, I struggle to stay awake. Why? I, I wish I still didn't kn-know
A voice that doesn't belong cuts through my mental haze, "Ezra, it's okay. You're safe. No one is hurting you." The words, the voice, keeps repeating. Hoarse, my soundless screams echo in my mind, the source of the voice. No, wait, I sense... more. Shaking violently, I cautiously grab hold of the hand formed by the voice's words. Phantom impressions of the me-memory... it was just a memory. Still shaking, I slowly open my eyes, flinching as Kanaan forced me to look into his eyes.
"Ezra, it's me," Kanaan said softly, gently holding my hands. "The monsters who did that to you are far away. You're safe here, with me."