Chapter Text
They have no idea when the Empire got the technology to do such a thing, de-aging someone likely was no small feat, then again there'd been a whole war fought primarily by clones. It wasn’t exactly implausible they could do such a thing.
Regardless, there was a once fourteen year old Jedi Padawan, now approximately one in a half or two years old in a little orange onesie sitting on Hera’s hip and resting his little fragile head against her collarbone.
Sapphire eyes pulled again and again as he tried to stay awake, his small fist angled against his mouth. Thick raven locks curled against his features at the edges, the rest relatively straight.
He was utterly adorable.
Kanan paced the Ghost hazardously, hands stuck up into his hair, every once in a while his head would turn to take a gander at his youngling padawan before his jaw turned back somewhat painfully.
His body so tense Hera wasn’t certain if he was in legitimate pain or not. Sabine and Zeb were sitting at the table, Zeb calling to Kanan now and again to try to get him to calm down, his pacing driving the lasat up the walls with a shared anxiety, while Sabine stared at the tablet in her hand. Scouring for any instances on record that the empire had been de-aging people.
So far her search was coming up empty, so when nothing came to light she began to sketch their fearless captain holding the youngling, figuring the Twi’lek would want it.
The captain wasn’t pleased they basically lost a member of their crew, but it was hard to stay upset with a guileless, dependent, little boy clinging to her.
They weren’t sure if Ezra was conscious of what had happened, if he had any of his past memories, not even Kanan could tell between their budding bond. More likely than not, the boy didn’t, if he had Ezra’s old memories; the kid even when truly helpless would have offered some resistance to them.
This little Ezra wasn’t guarded at all, in fact he was all smiles when he wasn’t yawning with fatigue.
“We don’t have a crib or anything,” Hera points out, face pinched in worry as she rested her cheek against the boy’s forehead, knowing they couldn’t just set him in his usual top bunk for the night.
A fall like that could kill the small thing if he landed wrong. She toyed with the idea of him sleeping in her room with her, but they weren’t sure if the boy would return to his age randomly, which would likely be awkward for the boy, and Hera was worried she’d accidently smother him in her sleep on her small bunk.
Kanan runs a hand through his bangs at that, the hair having slipped out of place sometime ago when he’d been running for his life with a kid in his arms.
If Ezra had to actually share a bed with someone, Hera would feel a lot better if that person was specter one, knowing Kanan would be able to sense if he nearly smothered the boy, and it’d probably be less awkward if the boy sprouted up again.
She didn’t voice the thought, knowing by the vein bulging from the man’s forehead he needed a little more time.
Begrudgingly Zeb speaks up then, rubbing the back of his head: “He can take my bunk,” it was still a little high up personally, and she hoped the fur wouldn’t make the boy sneeze, but she nodded-wondering if she could use the extra materials she had to put up a gate on the side so the boy wouldn’t fall out of bed in the middle of the night.
“Thank you Zeb,” The twi’lek looks down again at the now slumped form, soft breaths hitting the base of her throat. Absently she brushes his bangs from his face, not noticing the sound of Kanan’s footfalls ceasing.
The Jedi stares, conflicted, although his shoulders drop at the sight of Hera smiling fondly at an admittedly precious looking Ezra.
“It’ll still need a railing,” Kanan points out, sounding drained and in need of water. Hera turned to him, pleased that they had the same line of thinking.
“Someone will need to hold him while I put something together,” Hera advised, looking to Kanan in particular who shrunk for a second at the suggestion.
“No, let’s not risk waking him. I’ll deal with the railing,” Kanan insists, perfectly transparent with his detachment, Hera doesn’t like it but she nods nonetheless.
Him distancing himself is likely another result of his Jedi training and his own self-deprecating tendencies getting in the way. Each of the specters noticed it, although they said nothing of it, letting him deal with it in his own way. He’d come around, how could he not?
The youngling was his padawan afterall.
“I’ll go clean up,” Zeb advises, heading back towards his room leaving the two woman specter’s alone. Chopper was locked in the phantom, none of the crew wanting to figure out his bedside manner when it came to toddlers.
Hera moves gracefully, taking a seat beside Sabine who let’s the twi’lek peak at her work, nearly done. She just had to add Hera’s lekku markings, and some lines to the boy’s hair.
“It’s lovely Sabine,”
“Depending on how long he’s like this, I’ll probably be able to draw a dozen more,” Sabine huffs, hesitantly reaching out to tuck a wayward curl behind the boy’s ear.
Ezra doesn’t respond to the slight prodding, although his fingers twitch in the slightest against Hera’s flightsuit when Kanan steps into the room, supplies in his hands and tucked under his arms.
He’s a man on a mission, walking past them without a glance as he headed down the hallway to get to work. The pair hear Kanan and Zeb put something together a moment later.
Sabine furrows a brow, looking down the hall with clear irritation on her face, “He’s going to have to come around,”
“He will,” Hera’s certain of that fact, she just doesn’t know when. Hopefully sooner than later, she had a full workload everyday, Kanan at some point would have to care for Ezra.
They find out very quickly Ezra likes to feel helpful, so when Zeb scrubs the hull, Ezra gets his very own brush. One with soft bristles and no actual cleaner other than water on it- and he rubs small circles on the surface as he sits on ground.
Zeb avoids cleaning directly above the boy so he doesn’t get dripped on with polish or gunk, but he still manages to get the job done with some maneuvering. There’s a moment the boy refuses to move, stubbornly scrubbing at a spot that Zeb ends up bending down to help him with.
Ezra smiles up at the lasat when it’s finally gone, looking content and proud and Zeb ruffles the boy’s hair for a job well done. He’d originally thought he’d be annoyed doing his chores around the kid, but it was pleasant to have the little bugger around.
Even if it was only to sit on his foot and hug his ankle. The kid didn’t weigh a thing and it certainly wasn’t slowing him down, and Ezra giggled everytime he went airborne.
When the boy wasn’t helping Zeb he was helping Hera and Chopper, she’d been weary at first, but the boy didn’t interfere with her work. Acting as a live toolbox of sorts, holding the non sharp tools (Chopper held those although she was wondering if Ezra actually was the safer option) she kept any nuts and bolts she had in her pockets, knowing she’d likely miss if Ezra tried to put something so small in his mouth.
He still was a toddler after all.
Ezra had helped Kanan a few times as well, namely during dinner. Ezra would sit on the counter and hand Kanan the next ingredient, the Jedi was a little stiff but they were all sure they’d seen the edge of his lip quirk up into a smile from time to time.
That and he had to smile at Ezra, especially when the boy was so pleased that he could help in some capacity. Looking for validation, ultimately from Kanan who didn’t want to break the look in those wide sapphire eyes. Even if his mind was screaming don’t get attached . That was a problem; youngling or not, but Kanan knew it was much easier for him to lose his way now.
The raven haired youngling has a harder time helping Sabine, the best he could really do is try to inspire her with her art, meaning he’d bring her random shiny things, or point to things that got him excited or made him happy in case they did the same for her.
She found it endearing, especially when her hands were cramped and she cracked them; Ezra’s eyes had widened at the sound, now when her hands got too cramped she’d taken to letting him crack them for her.
It was as much as he could do to help, but it was enough to make the boy smile with glee. They were still no closer to figuring out how to change the boy back, and there was no indication he’d be sprouting up in a way that didn’t resemble the way all normal children grew.
They just weren’t any closer to finding a way to fix him, but they weren’t displeased with that fact either.
Even in a galaxy engulfed in darkness, the best of people shined through whenever there was a child involved. Kanan doesn’t expect it but he does appreciate it as he carries Ezra around the marketplace.
Where normally he is crowded, other patrons give him a wide berth, although several women had stopped him from time to time to comment on the little blue boy, pinching Ezra’s cheeks and commenting about what a good father he was and how lucky he was to have such an adorable son.
He doesn’t discourage the comments, knowing it was for the best that they believed that for the time being, even if it twisted his heart in two. He wanted to believe it as well, plus little Ezra had certainly been treating him as such.
Little Ezra had yet to speak, saying nothing at all, he should at least know some words by now, but they had yet to hear a thing. Maybe that was a blessing, Kanan wasn’t sure he could take it if Ezra decided to call him something other than his name. Hell even master still choked him up a bit.
After some trouble in getting away from the cooing ladies who look seconds away from swiping Ezra in a hug and never letting him go. Kanan stumbles to the correct stall, expecting to haggle for far overpriced parts, but the vendor takes one look at Ezra’s wide sapphire eyes and lowers the price.
Even if Kanan is emotionally exhausted after their trip to the market, he realizes they’ll save a lot more credits bringing Ezra with them on all their shopping trips.
The specters and even Chopper make noises of concern when Zeb tosses the happily squealing child into the air, higher than one playing with their child usually does, before he catches him in his large mitts.
There’s not a chance he would drop him, but they do worry, Ezra obviously doesn’t share their concern, patting at the Lasat’s chest as a physical again until the man complied.
“It’s like they say mate, if it touches your hand you can catch it,” they don’t appreciate the man taking a rule from a ball game and applying it to a fragile human child, a fragile human child who was having the time of his life.
“I can’t,” Kanan huffs under his breath, scanning his surroundings and stopping the child mid air with the force, Ezra’s eyes practically bulge at this, looking astounded, as if the force was completely foreign to him.
Kanan settled the child on his own hip, a surprising development because they assumed he would have given Ezra to Hera, but no, the Jedi cradled the boy in his own secure grasp, calming his hammering heart.
There is no hesitation from Ezra, he holds onto his master warmly, digging his face against the upside down triangle decal, his small fingers curling into green. The crew knew immediately, Kanan had finally warmed up and given in to the younglings charms.
Ezra was his kid, in his mind and heart.
Ezra may be quiet verbally, but he was still like every other child his supposed age. Handsy and needy, needing to be occupied or have something or someone to hold onto.
Hera has to slide up her goggles more often than she’s ever had too with Ezra happily pulling them down. He giggles and she lets him toy around with the rubber.
“Aren’t you ever worried he’s going to grab your lekku?” Sabine questions, knowing if she was that small she’d probably try to grab them too, but Ezra had never tried. Seemingly aware of the potential discomfort that would bring the twi’lek, whether that be his intuition or the force, or maybe even that Ezra wasn’t intrigued enough by them to try anything, they didn’t know.
“No, I’m pretty sure he knows not to,” Hera admits, moving the elastic again as Ezra padded lightly at her flight suit. Small head turning as Chopper rolled in, the kid almost tipping out of her arms to try and pet the droid.
Chopper’s interactions with Ezra were always supervised, thankfully the droid had seemingly realized this Ezra was not as resilient as he had been when he was older, so he was far more tolerant of the boy’s behavior. Knowing Hera would actually scrap him if he tried to shock or bully the child.
That and the droid was rather fond of the newfound attention. Hera set the boy down, watching as the droid immediately pushed forward to meet Ezra, who had far too much fun tapping the droid on certain parts of his dome and even his wheels because the sound amused him.
Another thing that amused the youngling was Sabine’s paint, more often than not when Sabine was watching him, she’d pull out some old finger paints and flimsi, even some of her old drawings that Ezra was more than happy to color in for her. Not the colors she was expecting, Ezra never did understand art, and he certainly didn’t understand color theory, but they were nice in their own unique way.
She watches his process closely, mainly because she was worried about him trying to eat the paint, he’d only tried once before but never again after she’d told him no, but it was still something to look out for.
He hasn’t been meditating for more than five minutes when footsteps approach, ones he knows like the back of his hand. Looking back towards her, Hera offered an apologetic smile, “We’ve tried everything but we think he wants you,” Ezra is teary eyed in her grasp, little hands immediately reaching towards him, confirming their theory.
He takes Ezra into his arms, the boy curling in his crossed legs, blinking sluggishly and burying his face against his chest.
“I got him,” Kanan assured, feeling the force pull him back, assisted by the gentle rise and fall of Ezra’s chest, the boy somewhat being pulled in. Hera waits for a moment, but he waves her off, letting her know it was alright.
He follows Ezra’s now sleeping breaths back into meditation, their strand growing stronger, which only had the boy cuddling in closer. It was nice, the closeness.
Now that Kanan had fully fallen into his fatherly role, something more than just being the boy’s master, Ezra tries to cling, their connection making that need to be together even more prominent.
It’s the middle of the night, the crew tense, a job from Fulcrum having come in. Ezra knew nothing of it’s details, obviously, but he could sense the distress from his family.
Kanan would be going undercover in just a few days, one that would likely keep him away for a week or two. None of them knew how to discuss this with Ezra, or how they’d deal with it, but they couldn’t just tell Fulcrum no.
Ezra, with some struggle managed to prop himself up and over the railing, flopping onto the edge of the mattress on the floor that Zeb was snoring on, thankfully not waking up.
The boy toddled to the door, nose crinkling when he couldn’t open it, it's an odd instinct, one he’d seen dad do that makes Ezra wave his hand-the door opening right up for him, but also causing sweat to gather on his brow.
The youngling continues, finding himself in front of Kanan’s room, too exhausted to try and open the door like he did the last one, but his want for the man is clear. Enough that the door slides open, Kanan looking down at him with a tired smile before he bent down and pulled the boy to his chest.
“Just for tonight,” it’s not a promise, Kanan knowing full well if Ezra kept this up he wouldn’t be able to send him away. Situating himself on his back, Ezra curled on his chest, master and padawan fell asleep in no time at all.
Pride surging across their bond when Kanan sleepily realized, Ezra had used the force to get out of his room.
As per usual, Hera makes breakfast while Kanan handles dinner. Normally she is the first up, but with Kanan and Ezra waking earlier, more than refreshed with their bond tender and warm, they were already sitting at the table sipping some hot chocolate.
They look up when they hear Sabine, Hera, and Zeb coming down the hall, Ezra decides to surprise them all the second Hera steps in, “Mama!”
Hera’s heart is immediately in her throat, she knows she is not the boy’s biological mother, and she truly hasn’t been trying to replace the woman, but she can’t help but melt at the declaration and take him into her arms, happy tears welling in her eyes.
“Good morning sweetheart,” his little hands are around her throat, and her face is buried in his hair, unable to look up at the crew who’s eyes she feels boring into her.
The boy giggles at the kisses she places against his hair as she turns her back on the shocked crew towards the kitchen, “You hungry baby?”
The boy nods, leaning into her warmth.
“I guess that answers the question if he can talk,” Zeb points out, while Sabine looks thoughtful.
“Why now? What changed?”
They didn’t have an answer, and Ezra didn’t seem to want to give one. Hera wasn’t going to force one out of him either, accepting the peculiarity without question, and really how could she when she was seemingly his first word?
The boy still babbles, and Kanan has made it a mission to get Ezra to call him dad before he has to leave on his assignment. It turns out he didn’t have to try very hard, not when the toddler and him meditate again.
Their session came to an abrupt end when a loth-cat skittered nearby, drawing the little boy’s attention.
“Dad!” Ezra gasped, pulling at his shirt, looking up at him before pointing at the cat, either trying to get him to go after it, or simply show him Kanan didn’t know or care.
Kanan reaches out in the force, encouraging the animal to come in closer. It tilts its head at the boy who is buzzing with excitement, Kanan’s hand the only thing keeping him still.
“Easy,” he warns, taking the boy’s hand in his own and extending it forward. The cat pushes forward, rubbing against his fingers with a content purr. Ezra falls into step with him, and in seconds Kanan has a lapful of both Ezra and the loth-cat.
The raven haired boy was overjoyed, gently petting over the creature's fur and looking back up at him every now again, making sure Kanan was enjoying the moment as well. Ezra didn’t have to worry about that, he was elated.
The youngling knows something is wrong when Kanan hugs him tight, a bag on his back, and a sad look in his eyes as he says goodbye. Ezra doesn’t let go until Hera manages to pry him away from the retreating Jedi that ruffles his hair, “I’ll be back soon,”
Two weeks is not soon, not to the depressed little boy who had been despondent and sulking the man’s whole absence. Hanging onto Hera or whoever would hold him day and night, mumbling for his dad only for the man to never appear.
It breaks their hearts, and Hera doesn’t know what to do. They have little correspondence with the Jedi, nothing more than messages, not even anything over the holo so Ezra could hear his voice.
It is agony, it is agony until finally, dear force, finally Kanan returns but Ezra only scowls, adorably, but it’s not the welcome Kanan is expecting, or any of the crew for the matter.
“He’s mad at you for leaving,” Sabine points out, finding it understandable, especially for Ezra. Who often didn’t show any signs of his older self, but she knew personally about that awful fear of abandonment, that once you knew it, it never went away.
Kanan was already looking rough, and this development certainly didn’t help. The kid didn’t even look at him after the boy was sure he was really there.
His little pouting face was adorable and heart wrenching, and not even Hera’s hand on his arm could cheer the Jedi up.
Not when his bond with Ezra had been strained and filled with yearning for two long weeks that he could do nothing about, and now the kid felt abandoned. Something he never wanted Ezra to feel again, youngling or not.
Little Ezra doesn’t have the same resolve as his older self, still admirable, but after an hour of Kanan setting down his things and taking a shower, Ezra finally bursts into tears, now in Sabine’s arms crying- wailing for his father.
The Jedi rushes forward at this, taking in the child with a fervor, “I got you kiddo,” he assures, “I’m home. I’m home Ezra,” tears coat his throat and Ezra’s little fingers must hurt with how they’re twisting into the fabric of his shirt. Kanan loves his padawan so very much. Certain, at least certain little Ezra felt exactly the same way.
When they are hailed by a familiar ship Kanan can’t help the groan that breaches his throat. Ezra looks up at him from the floor where he was currently tapping at Chopper’s casing, head tilted to the side in confusion.
“This is who we’re doing business again with?” Kanan sighs as Hera steps in, heading to the hanger to go meet with Hondo Ohnaka.
“Yes it is I!” a familiar voice responds, having already boarded with Zeb beside him, “I was expected to be greeted by my boy Ezra! But it is always nice to see your...stripes as well,” the weequay leans the last comment towards the Lasat.
Kanan bristles at the comment about Ezra, the little boy in question now looking at the man confused after he’d said his name. Chopper warbles moving in front of the boy, ultimately drawing the man’s attention down towards the floor where his eyes widen.
“Oh ho oh, I see you two have been busy!” The man comments looking between Kanan and Hera, the twi’lek takes a long breath, a puff of a dragon and stares the bastard down, maneuvering Ezra up off the floor and onto her hip in case Chopper decided to attack the weequay.
“It’s Ezra you idiot,” Sabine sighs from the doorway, Kanan hadn’t exactly wanted to disclose that fact, but if anyone had random information, information that could potentially bring Ezra back to his older self, it was the pirate.
“This tiny little thing is Ezra?” The man leans in a little closer to really look, and smiles brightly, plucking the boy up and away from Hera causing the captain and the other ghost’s to squawk, “Yes of course it is! I see it now, my favorite little pirate,” the youngling isn’t too concerned with the sudden shift.
His ease only somewhat calms the ghost crew, but Kanan is itching to yank the boy back.
“Now as I was saying about our deal,” the man takes a seat on the table like he owns the place, Ezra sat on his leg, moving forward to play with the flimsi and pencils on the table. Uncaring of their odd house guest.
They don’t know how he pulls it off, but the Ghost chases after the pirate’s ship at its highest speed, pursuing their stolen specter.
“Of course he took Ezra,” Kanan ground out, Hera immersed in her piloting, not offering back any words in turn, although he’s right, they probably should have known the man would rather take Ezra than hurt him-which they’d initially been concerned about. Not knowing how the man was around small children.
By the time they get the man to stop and board, the pirate is laughing, “You did not say I couldn’t take my boy for a spin!” and Ezra, unharmed and unperturbed looks up from the seat he’s in, lifting his arms, ready to be picked up.
Kanan lifts his padawan into his arms, pressing a quick kiss to the boy’s temple before running a hand over the back of his head and shoulders in search of injury.
“Dad!” The kid exclaims happily, dragging out the a in the word, leaning against his master's jaw. Acting as if he’d simply been with a babysitter and not kidnapped. Then again Kanan’s sure Ezra didn’t understand that, maybe if Hondo had been threatening the child would have understood, but alas it was only Hondo.
“I do have some information to offer though, for all our trouble,” Hondo reveals a data chit that Chopper displays prominently, it’s not the full thing, but it was a step forward in getting Ezra back to normal.
“So you were planning on taking Ezra to either raise him to be a pirate or fix him so he’d join your crew?” Hera raises a brow and the man laughs, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. It had been.
“I guess we should get this to Fulcrum,” Hera announces, moving back towards her ship, Kanan, Ezra, and Chopper in tow.
They weren’t ready to say goodbye to little Ezra, but what they had wasn’t enough to fix him anyway, so they had some time ahead of them. They’d cherish their time together, and when they got their Ezra back, they’d cherish that time too.
Big or small, he’d always be their Specter Six.