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Kanan felt the heat from the explosion warming his back as he sprinted into the Ghost, panting heavily as he made it to the safety of the loading ramp. He immediately sent two beeps to Hera on his comm, signaling that everyone was on board and that she was good to take off. But as the ramp closed behind him, he couldn’t bring himself to relax as he watched Zeb set Ezra down gently on one of the various crates that littered the cargo bay. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he saw the large Lasat coming from a different corridor, Ezra in his arms, fearing the worst. As he hurried to Ezra’s side, he saw the raw wound the blaster shot had created in Ezra’s left leg, straight through the calf muscle. He’d felt his Padawan’s pain through the Force the moment the shot hit but hadn’t been able to ask what had happened. Looking at Ezra’s face though, he knew the kid wasn’t the one to ask. The boy was taking slow, measured breaths and his face was screwed up tightly, concentrating completely on dealing with the sharp, burning pain. So, he turned his face to Zeb who was quickly returning with the med-kit stored in the cargo bay for these exact situations.
“What happened?” he asked, trying to keep any hint of anger or frustration out of his voice until he heard the full story. But he couldn’t help the little bit of exasperation in his tone. Ezra had only been with them for a few weeks after all, and he felt guilt churning in his gut as he once again looked at their newest crew member’s leg. “You two shouldn’t have been anywhere near stormtroopers. Our intel—”
“The intel was wrong,” Zeb interrupted even as he set the kit down and started to open it up. “We got into the compound and downloaded the intel, all exactly like yeh said, but while we were setting Sabine’s charges, a full squad came in and started blasting.” The story paused for a moment as Zeb pulled a bacta patch out and Kanan reached down to gently roll up Ezra’s pant leg, trying his best to avoid irritating the wound. “One of the Imps got in a lucky shot just as we were rounding a corner, and the kid went down. Wasn’t too happy about me carrying him, but it was the only way to get him out.” Zeb huffed. “Kid wouldn’t stop squirming.”
“I was trying to get away from the smell.” Kanan looked up at Ezra’s face in surprise at his words, finding the boy’s eyes still closed, and his face and voice strained. The kid continued, “If you used the sonic in the refresher every once in a while, it wouldn’t be so bad.” Kanan relaxed a little. He could tell that Ezra still wasn’t totally there through the pain, but if the kid was coherent enough to crack jokes about Zeb, he would be okay.
Zeb only huffed again and focused on prepping the bacta patch properly. Kanan winced slightly internally as he realized how depressing it was for them all to be so well practiced in medicine but brushed the thought off as he watched Zeb pull out a disinfectant spray. However, the second Zeb got near Ezra with it, the kid flinched so hard he nearly fell of the crate. One arm lashed out in front of him defensively while the other wrapped itself protectively around his bag. Kanan, having been focused on Zeb, looked up at his Padawan in surprise as the boy’s breathing sped up and his cheeks colored in embarrassment. Through the Force Kanan could feel the shame leaking through the kid’s usually air-tight shields.
Ezra’s past was still a mystery to him for the most part, and in the weeks since the kid had joined, the boy had resisted any attempts to get to know him beyond the superficial read on his personality. Even with the new, fledgling bond Kanan shared with Ezra, getting a read of anything more than the kid’s basic mood was rare. The kid had heavier shields around his mind than some masters Kanan had known in the temple. He knew it was a response to the environment Ezra had grown up in, forced to rely on himself, and trust came slowly. But he couldn’t deny that it still hurt when he tried to reach out through the Force instinctively like he had with Master Billaba only to feel icy durasteel on the other side of the thread that connected the two of them.
This time, however, the shields had slipped a little. Kanan blamed the pain and disorientation and tried not to pry too much at Ezra’s vulnerability, but things slipped across.
Pain.
Confusion.
Fear.
The cruel face of an older boy leaning over him.
The feeling of helplessness as his backpack was yanked from his arms.
Kanan pulled himself back with effort, reinforcing his own shields to try and keep Ezra’s thoughts private and prevent the anger he felt from seeing that snippet from slipping through to Ezra, but he still looked at the kid and his response with new eyes. For a moment, he saw another young boy in Ezra’s place, a young Caleb Dume who life had beaten down so hard he didn’t want to get back up in fear of it happening again.
“Zeb.” The purple Lasat turned from where he was looking at Ezra with poorly hidden concern to focus on Kanan. The man met his eyes steadily. “Could you give me a minute with the kid? I’ll make sure he’s patched up.”
Zeb hesitated for only a moment before nodding and leaving the cargo bay, likely to go and inform Hera on the situation, leaving Kanan and Ezra alone. A soft quiet fell over them, and Kanan moved slowly as he picked up the disinfectant Zeb had set aside. He felt Ezra’s eyes watching him closely, cheeks still slightly flushed, and made sure to telegraph his moves, not letting any sudden movements startle the kid. He smiled wryly as he remembered acting similarly to avoid spooking an injured tooka he’d found in the temple. He sent calming reassurances to Ezra through the Force, and eventually felt the tight ball of anxiety that was his Padawan start to loosen.
The disinfectant and bacta patch were applied without further incident, and minutes later, Ezra was sitting on his crate looking at the ground with Kanan sitting on another crate he’d pulled up, positioned so he was facing the kid, projecting as much calm understanding and patience into the Force as possible.
Minutes later, Ezra spoke. “It was about a year after I started living on the streets,” the teen mumbled. “There was a minor protest on Lothal about the water regulations and they sent in troopers to clear them out. I had been working the crowd, trying to grab some credits, build up a backup stash for emergencies.” Ezra’s shoulders crept up around his ears and he had his uninjured leg pulled tightly to his chest. “The crowd refused to disperse so the troopers fired warning shots. And then… well, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Ezra’s left arm shifted as it rubbed at a spot on his right bicep. Kanan would have bet every credit to his name that if he lifted the sleeve, he would find a scar sitting right underneath Ezra’s hand. “I got away quick after that, I didn’t want any trouble with Imps, but it hurt so bad! I couldn’t focus, and before I knew it, I was surrounded.” Ezra’s eyes grew distant once again as the old pain clawed its way back to the service of his mind. “There were three kids, all older than me. All loth rats too. Normally, I could have gotten away, nobody knew the streets like I did, even that early, but I was hurt. First thing they did was grab me by my bad arm and throw me against an alley wall. Then, they took everything. My bag, every credit, my food, everything. Everything that I had saved up for years, gone in an instant.” Ezra squeezed his good leg, hugging it even closer to his chest along with his bag, keeping it securely wedged in his arms. “That was the first time. After that, I learned to not carry so much on me, but even then, any time I got hurt, someone would be there trying to take advantage of me.” Ezra’s voice dropped down to a mumble. “And… more often than not, it worked.”
Kanan sat there silently, letting Ezra get everything off his chest before he spoke. After a moment, the man couldn’t resist the urge to provide some small comfort, and he slowly stretched his hand out towards Ezra’s shoulder. He gave the kid plenty of time to pull away, and though Kanan could see Ezra’s muscles tense, the teen allowed the hand to rest on his arm. After a moment, some of the tension drained away, and Kanan sighed softly.
“Hey,” he said softly, “look at me.”
Ezra’s eyes darted over to his, and Kanan was surprised at the lack of tears in the boy’s eyes. He winced internally at the implication that for Ezra tears meant weakness, a vulnerability, something others could take advantage of. But he pressed forward. “I know you’ve been alone for a long time, and I know how hard it is to open back up after living like that for so long. Everyone on this crew has things from this past that they’d rather not talk about. Nobody’s going to judge you for learning how to survive.” Kanan sent a reassuring nudge through the Force at the same time he squeezed Ezra’s shoulder and startled slightly as the durasteel walls around their bond began to shift, not opening fully, but allowing for more to pass between them. He continued, a small grin growing on his face, “Thank you for trusting me with this, Ezra. I know it wasn’t easy.”
Ezra snorted, and Kanan watched as Ezra’s joking, care-free persona reasserted itself. “Well, don’t expect more anytime soon, I’ve just used up at least two years’ supply of my emotional reserves.”
Kanan smiled at the kid fondly as he stood from the crate. He watched carefully as Ezra did the same, resting his weight gingerly on his hurt leg before smiling in satisfaction and hobbling towards the ladder. Once satisfied that Ezra could make it to his room unaided, he turned to inventory the supplies that he and Sabine had stolen during the op. But before he could do more than open the first crate, he heard Ezra call his name hesitantly from the doorway to the crew’s cabins. Kanan looked back at his young padawan and was struck with how young he looked.
“Yeah Ezra?”
Ezra shuffled a bit in place before speaking. “Just… thanks.” After speaking he hurried down the door and the pneumatics hissed as they slid shut behind the small figure.
Kanan just grinned. “Anytime, kid,” he said as he turned back to the inventory, the Force purring contentedly around him as the bond between Master and Padawan grew just a little bit stronger.