Ezekiel doesn’t know where he is anymore. 

All he can see in his head is that ship, the symbol mocking him as the planet blows up in the background. He is vaguely aware that he’s left the bar, the cloying humidity of the inside giving way to dry heat is the only thing he is aware of. The roar of blood rushing in his ears eclipses every other sensation. Ezekiel feels like he’s drowning, and still, the ship invades his vision and the planet bursts into flame.

Ezekiel stumbles, his foot catching on a rock he doesn’t see as he starts walking. Where exactly he’s going, he has no idea. People brush past him, but they’re nothing more than vague shapes and presses of warmth. That was his ship. Well, not his ship exactly, but he knows that ship. He chose it. He flew it. He stole it. And now an entire world has been destroyed. 

This is his fault. Again. 

Always his fault.

“Fuck,” Ezekiel whispers. He runs his hands hands through his hair, tugging at the strands as they come loose from their bindings. He pulls again, harder this time, allowing the pain to bring his surroundings back into focus for the briefest of seconds, enough for him to realise he’s in an alley. It’s probably a couple of blocks from the bar, he’s not sure. But he feels a brief flash of gratitude for his subconscious for taking him somewhere he can have his breakdown in peace.

The world is quick to fade away again, though, as Ezekiel collapses against the damp, grimy wall of the alley. He vaguely registers the stench of something sour, possibly rotten, but he’s so far into his own mind that it’s nothing more than a passing thought.

“Fuck!” 

Ezekiel’s body moves with the outburst, twisting so he can slam his foot into the dark shape beside him. The echo of metal crumpling reverberates in the narrow space, drawing Ezekiel further out into the real world.

A window slides open above him. “Shut the fuck up down there. Take your fight somewhere else!”

If only that person knew that Ezekiel’s only opponent for the night was himself.

It helps to centre him, though, and Ezekiel slowly finds his way back to himself. The alley comes into focus around him, and it is only then that he notices he’s standing right by some waste disposal containers, one of which now has a slight dent in its surface. It is also the source of the sour smell, which has become a lot stronger now that the fog in his mind has cleared somewhat.

Holding back a gag, Ezekiel forces himself off the wall and back out into open air, where he collides with a very solid someone who catches him before he can pitch headfirst into the ground.

“There you are!”

The disapproving tone is familiar, and Ezekiel whirls around to find himself face to face with Anika. She’s wearing her signature look of disappointment, but Ezekiel can see the faint spark of worry in her eyes as she tries to look him over for any injuries.

That’s when he remembers that he’d been about to buy them their next round of drinks before he’d bolted from the bar, drinks and friends completely forgotten.

Ezekiel looks away, unable to meet Anika’s stare. “I’m sorry. I—“

He trails off, the words lodging themselves in his suddenly dry throat.

“We looked up to check on how you were with the drinks, and you were just gone. What the fuck happened? Did you run into an over-excited ex-hookup?”

She’s trying to lighten the mood, he knows, but the jab doesn’t quite land. Honestly, it only makes him feel worse because they were supposed to be celebrating a job well done. Now, he’s made them worry and forced them on a manhunt around Viddine.

Ezekiel tries to pull his lips into his best approximation of a smile. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me, I’m just not feeling too good all of a sudden. You guys should carry on, though. Don’t let me stop you. “

“You’re an idiot if you think we’re going to believe that or let you stew by yourself.” Anika studies him for a moment. “But let me know if you’re not ready for a full-scale family intervention, and I’ll tell Mataio and Yin to hang back.”

That pulls a small smile from Ezekiel. The fact that Anika is willing to put their faction-sized intervention on hold if he asks her to is more than he deserves. It’s also the reason he decides that, maybe, he doesn’t have to face this particular meltdown alone. He’s already ruined their celebration, the least he can do is give them a reason.

“You don’t have to do that. It might be better if everyone is here for this, actually.”

“Here for what? Your spontaneous meltdown?”

Ezekiel glowers at her but there’s no real heat behind it, his mind returning once again to the footage he’d seen on that live broadcast. Anika must see the shift in emotion on his face because she immediately reaches for him, the weight of her hand on his shoulder an anchor.

“What’s going on? You look like someone died.” She gasps, her hand falling from his shoulder as she covers her mouth. “Did someone die? Stars. Did you hear from—“

“No.” Ezekiel cuts her off before she can say more and put an even more horrifying image in his head. “It’s not that. But it—”

He breaks off. Swallows. Presses the heels of his palms into his eyes to alleviate the pressure that had begun to build the minute he’d tossed himself out of that bar.

“It’s bad, Nika.”

“What—“ She cuts herself off, shaking her head. “No. You’re right. We need everyone here for whatever the hell is going on with you. Let’s go back to Mataio’s. I’ll let him know to meet us there. Think you can hold out until then?”

Ezekiel lets his hands fall as he gives her a wan smile. “Do I have a choice? No, but seriously. I’ll be fine. I was just… It was just a moment.”

“You were having a panic attack,” Anika counters, before punching him in the arm. “Idiot. Can you imagine if I hadn’t found you? You would have buried yourself in that waste disposal unit.”

“I would not! I had all of my faculties.” Dulled as they were. He had managed to avoid the disposal unit after all. And all by himself, too.

“Uh huh.” Anika steps away from him and looks around them. “So, you’re telling me you came all the way to the West Sector, intentionally?”

That’s when Ezekiel finally gets a good look at his surroundings. Somehow, he’d managed to stumble his way half-blind into one of the few areas the Marauders tried to stay out of. All around them are old, sandstone buildings. They’re a lot more worn than the newer ones in the Marauder-populated areas—cracks line their facades, and a lot of the ledges and detailing have crumbled away. Lights spill out of some of the open windows, and the low hum of fuel generators permeates the air. Anika is right to question how he got here because he doesn’t know himself.

“Must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”

Anika levels a knowing look at him but doesn’t argue this time. “Let’s just go. It’s a miracle no one else has seen you yet.”

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