Chapter Text
It was understatement to say that his entire body ached. Hours of torture, hours of knowing that he led Thrawn to the Rebels, hours of trying to ignore his possibly re-broken leg–
Kallus hissed and nearly lost balance as he caught himself on the wall behind him. His head was killing him; he closed his eyes to block as much of the artificial lights as he could. How he wished for any type of peace away from the pain (he didn't deserve it, not after everything he'd done).
What a terrible birthday.
Kallus froze. He had forgotten that it was today. A deep shame grew outwards from his core, it curled and wiggled deeply into him making him feel empty. So many people died because of your mistakes and you're thinking about yourself.
Selfish bastard.
“Seems like you found your answers, Agent,” he heard a familiar voice say. His eyes snapped open and there Zeb was, in all his unscathed glory (Kallus couldn't ignore the relief that filled him.)
“Garazeb—” he shook his head and stood up straight “—Zeb, I mean– I have. I must thank you for–”
A hot flash passed through his head right behind his bruised eye. Kallus guessed he wasn't fast or subtle enough to hide his wince because the grin on Zeb's face morphed into a concerned frown. “Hey, you aren’t looking too good there. Here, lemme just…”
He stepped closer in an attempt to steady him– the act twisting Kallus’ heart in many indescribable ways– but stopped when Kallus raised a hand.
“No, no— it's nothing,” he shifted and a swift pain went through his leg, proving him immediately wrong. He gritted his teeth and hissed, “I'll be fine, thank you for your concern.”
Zeb raised his eyebrow, doubt painting his features, “Right…”
Kallus thought he looked like a kicked loth-cat: annoyed, dejected, and frustrated all at once.
“You want a hug?” Zeb suddenly asked.
Kallus blinked. Maybe the torture Thrawn put him through affected him more than he thought.
“What?”
“I dunno,” Zeb said as he scratched nervously at the back of his neck. "You– I just–” an irritated, low growl came from him before his eyes snapped up to meet Kallus’ “–it just looks like ya need one.”
Later when Kallus looked back at this moment alone in his newly assigned quarters, he could say with a heavily critical (and embarrassed) eye that it was desperate and idiotic… and vulnerable. He took a wobbly step forward and wrapped his arms around Zeb.
Strong and impossibly gentle arms enveloped him, it was the safest Kallus ever felt in years. Kallus’ breath hitched and the hug loosened.
“Ya good, mate?”
Kallus sniffed and instead of assuring Zeb, what slipped out was, “It's my birthday.”
“Oh! Uh—”
Mortification flushed his face and he did his best to hide it in Zeb’s shoulder. Maybe if he asked very nicely Zeb could run his bo-rifle through his body– how perfect for him to survive all of today only to die at the hands of the man who deserved to kill him the most.
“Well… happy birthday.”
Kallus’ speeding thoughts screeched to a halt and fear made itself known as it crawled slowly to his stomach and settled like an oil spill. It was hard to swallow and he swore he was going to vomit whatever he had eaten last (rations from hours ago? Or perhaps days? His time as Fulcrum was all blending together, the stress was eating away at his memories).
He knew Zeb wouldn't be cruel to him (not anymore at least, as enemies it was a completely different story) and yet– Kallus exhaled– there was an ever lingering feeling that told him Zeb would be. He risked a glance, and instead of a mocking grin or disappointed eyes or disgust oozing from his very core, Kallus saw those kind virescent eyes accept him for everything he was and would ever become.
Zeb smiled back down at him, it was gentle as the sun rays at dawn, his fangs ever so slightly peeked out from under his lips in such an endearing way Kallus couldn't help but smile a bit himself.
“Good day to officially become a Rebel,” Zeb said, his rumbling voice bringing out a warmth from within Kallus, one that he had long forgotten.
Kallus let out an exhausted laugh and if he hugged Zeb a smidge tighter no one but them would know, “Yes. It is.”