Chapter Text
Kanan had had a feeling the day would come when he would cross paths with the mysterious Imperial assassin that had been appearing in rebel intelligence reports. He just hadn’t thought it would be so soon. And he hadn’t been expecting someone who looked barely older than Ezra had been when he’d died.
Unlike the weapons the Inquisitors carried, the assassin’s lightsaber had only one blade, but he wielded it with just as much skill as any Inquisitor or Jedi Kanan had ever seen. As the assassin leapt at him, Kanan blocked the red blade with his own, digging his heels in to keep his footing on the slick grass. He looked down at the assassin and his eyes widened slightly. The assassin had moved so quickly that Kanan hadn’t been able to get a good look at his face before, but now he saw them; eyes which were painfully familiar, glaring up at him over the mask that covered the lower half of the boy’s face. They were yellow now, and full of a fierce, burning hatred the likes of which Kanan had never seen before, but still he knew them on sight.
Ezra.
Kanan stepped back, out of reach of Ezra’s weapon. He could barely believe what he was seeing. He’d thought Ezra was dead. He’d felt him die. But here he was, standing before Kanan, a red blade in his hand.
Ezra leapt at him again and Kanan raised his blade just in time to block a strike that would have taken his head off. He pushed through the Force, shoving Ezra away from him, giving himself just enough time to draw his blaster. He fired a series of stun blasts, each of which Ezra easily deflected before rushing toward him again. As Kanan moved to defend himself again, he saw Sabine pulling herself off the ground and drawing her own blasters. Kanan shoved Ezra back again, firing another stun blast, intentionally missing and letting it fly past Sabine, hoping she would get his message without him having to say something that would alert Ezra.
Sabine pulled the trigger and Ezra collapsed as a ring of blue light struck his back. The girl rushed to him, slowing down as she reached his side. She moved to put her blasters back in their holsters and froze, staring down at the unconscious boy at her feet.
“Is that –”
“Ezra,” Kanan said. He crouched down and lifted the boy into his arms, making sure his head was resting against his shoulder, where it would be supported.
As they walked back to the Phantom, Kanan kept staring down at the boy in his arms. With each step, he felt dread growing in the pit of his stomach as he wondered if this was all a dream, if he would wake up and find himself on the Ghost, knowing that Ezra was still gone.
Ezra remained out cold for the entirety of the short trip back to the Ghost. When the shuttle docked with the ship, Kanan carefully lifted Ezra into his arms once again, carrying him into the common room where he found Hera, Zeb, and Chopper all waiting. All wanting to see if what Kanan had commed to tell Hera was the truth.
“Ezra,” Hera said quietly, her eyes widening as she laid eyes on him. Kanan could feel a surge of guiltfearpaindenialguiltguiltguilt welling up in her mind as she watched him lay Ezra down in a chair. She’d been the first person he told that Ezra was dead, and she had believed him. She’d had no reason not to.
“He’s been stunned,” Kanan said. “But he’ll be okay.”
As he gripped the kid’s mask, intending to pull it away, his hand froze. A hot flare of anger burst through his chest as he realized that it wasn’t a mask, but a muzzle, holding Ezra’s jaw shut so he couldn’t speak.
He reached behind the kid’s head, feeling for the locking mechanism and pushing with his mind, forcing it open. As it fell away, Kanan set it aside, not wanting it to be within the kid’s line of sight when he came to.
“Come on, kid,” Kanan said, gently patting Ezra’s cheek, trying not to think about the sharp lines in his skin where the muzzle had dug into his face. “Wake up.”
Slowly, those bright yellow eyes fluttered open, going wide immediately. Before Kanan could say another word, Ezra was on him, pinning him to the floor with his hands around his throat.
“Ezra,” Kanan gasped, trying to pry the kid’s hands away. Ezra only tightened his grip, and Kanan could sense him adding to it with the Force, crushing Kanan’s airway. As spots began to appear in Kanan’s vision, there was a crackle of electricity and Ezra released his grip on Kanan’s neck to swing wildly at Chopper, shoving him away. Kanan took advantage of Ezra’s momentary distraction to push the boy off of him and stumble back to his feet.
As Ezra lunged toward Kanan again, Zeb grabbed him, pulling the kid back against his chest and pinning his arms at his sides.
“Settle down, kid,” Zeb said. “It’s just Kanan. You’re alright.”
Ezra struggled in Zeb’s arms, his heel slamming into the side of the Lasat’s knee hard enough to make him wince, but not enough to make him let go.
“Ezra, it’s okay,” Kanan said, taking a step toward the struggling boy. “You’re home now.”
Ezra turned his furious gaze back to Kanan and spat in his face. The whole room went still, save for Ezra’s continued struggles, as they all realized that something was very wrong.
“Ezra –”
“Who is Ezra?”
Kanan fell silent at the sound of his padawan’s voice. It didn’t sound like the boy he remembered at all. His voice was quiet, rough, broken. It barely held a trace of the voice Kanan remembered.
“You are,” Kanan said. Ezra stared blankly at him and Kanan felt something clench tightly around his heart. The kid really didn’t remember.
“Your name is Ezra Bridger,” he said. “This ship is called the Ghost. It’s your home. We’re your family.”
Ezra stopped struggling, his gaze traveling between the faces of each member of the crew. Zeb seemed to sense the change and loosened his grip on Ezra. As soon as he did, Kanan saw a cold smile flash across the kid’s face. Ezra rammed his elbow into Zeb’s gut, following through with a push through the Force and throwing the Lasat off of him. He reached out through the Force, pulling Kanan’s blaster from its holster. Kanan grabbed the weapon before it could reach Ezra, quickly ejecting the charge pack.
Ezra let out a low growl and lunged at Kanan again. Before Kanan could react, another shot went off and Ezra collapsed once more, narrowly missing striking his head on the table as he fell. Sabine lowered her blaster as she walked over to Ezra’s side. Kanan could sense the painful guilt radiating off of her as she placed her weapon back in her holster and gazed down at her unconscious friend.
“Karabast,” Zeb muttered. “What did they do to him?”
“I don’t know,” Kanan said. “But I’m going to find out.”
“What are we going to do with him now?” Sabine asked. “He’s just going to attack you if he wakes up here again.”
Kanan glanced over at Hera, holding her gaze for a moment. He didn’t expect her to actually tell him what they should do. She may be the captain, but when it came to containing a Force user, he was the closest thing they had to an expert.
“We’ll put him in my cabin for now,” Kanan said. “Lock the door and seal up the vents.”
“We have binders if we need them,” Zeb said, sounding like he hated every word that came out of his mouth.
“No,” Kanan said. Locking Ezra in a room was bad enough. He wasn’t putting his son in cuffs, too.
Hera rushed to the cockpit for her tools while Kanan gathered Ezra back into his arms. Hera met him at the door to his cabin.
“I can't believe this is happening,” she said, keeping her voice low as they entered the room, as if Ezra was just a normal sleeping child and not knocked out by a stun blast.
“Neither can I,” Kanan said. He’d thought maybe it would begin to feel real once he’d brought Ezra home and the others had seen him, but he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that they’d found him. Ezra was alive. His son was alive. Alive and apparently trying to kill him.
As Kanan lay Ezra down on the bed, Hera climbed onto the top bunk and got to work sealing the vent so Ezra couldn’t climb through it. Kanan sat down beside Ezra, gently brushing a lock of his dark hair away from his face. It was shorter now. It must have been cut at some point.
“What happened to you, kid?” he asked, his voice quiet as he gazed down at the unconscious boy.
Ezra lay there, unmoving. If it weren’t for those marks on his face left by the muzzle, he would have looked like any other sleeping kid. He seemed almost peaceful, so different from how he’d been just moments before.
When Hera finished sealing the vent, she climbed down from the top bunk and sat down beside Kanan, her hand gently gripping his. For a moment, they just sat there, both of them watching the slow rise and fall of Ezra’s chest, each lost in their own thoughts.
“Come on,” Hera said. “I need your help rewiring the door.”
Kanan nodded, knowing Hera’s request was more to get him out of the room – to get him out of danger – than anything else. He stood, following her into the corridor. He did what Chopper normally would have done, holding a light for her while she fixed the door so it could be locked from the outside.
“This feels wrong,” Kanan said, his voice still quiet. Hera’s shoulders went tense, and he knew that she felt the same way.
“It’s just for now,” Hera said, thought Kanan got the feeling she was trying to convince herself more than him. “Until we can figure out what’s going on.”
Kanan tightened his grip on the light, saying nothing. They would get to the bottom of this, and whatever the Empire had done to Ezra, Kanan would make sure they didn’t get away with it.