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1.
Somehow in the span of just a few years, Kanan Jarrus has become a father of four.
Well, not technically. And really only two of them are actual kids, but by the way Zeb and Chopper act, he and Hera might as well be raising all of them.
He’s not sure how he’s ended up in the middle of some teenage turf war onboard their ship, but one moment he’s walking through the lounge on his way to his room and the next, Sabine is dashing from the hallway and shoulder-checks him on the way to the cockpit.
“Sorry!” She calls out, but doesn’t stop running – a moment later, he hears her yell, “Hera! They won’t get out of my room!”
Kanan rolls his eyes. He’s glad he isn’t the solution to this particular problem – a relief that is short-lived, when a couple of seconds later, the door to Sabine’s room slides open and the other three members of the crew pile out. Chopper leads the way with Ezra close on his heels, and Zeb following at a safe distance. Kanan sidesteps the droid as he zips by with a series of frantic beeps that could mean anything, but Ezra barrels straight into him and trips himself on Kanan’s leg. He uses the momentum to dive at Chopper, banging a fist onto the metal of his hull on the way down.
Kanan interjects, “Ezra!” Ezra ignores him and springs to his feet. Chopper makes more beeps that sound suspiciously like taunts as he circles around behind Kanan’s legs, peeking out in a way that’s intentionally obnoxious, even for a droid. Ezra bounces on the balls of his feet a couple times, and continues to ignore Kanan’s demands for everybody to just calm down.
“Tell that to Chopper!” He says without taking his eyes off the astromech. Chopper makes an indignant noise in protest. Ezra doesn’t hesitate to lunge around Kanan’s left side, arms outstretched, but Chopper predicts his movement and just swerves back around to Kanan’s front. Ezra growls at him and darts around again, bumping Kanan in the process and still failing to catch Chopper’s laughing form.
“Hey! Knock it off!” Kanan says, at the same moment as Zeb steps in. Unhelpfully, he just smacks Ezra upside of the head with a furry palm and says “Yeah, Ezra, stop it.”
“You too, Zeb, I don’t want to hear it,” Kanan warns. Zeb looks affronted.
“Me? I didn’t even do anything!”
Ezra interjects, “You hit me!” and smacks Zeb right back. It quickly turns into a wrestling match as both boys shove their hands in each other’s faces, glaring. From the sidelines, Chopper beeps and laughs in a way that manages to infuriate both of them. It seems there are no alliances here. Kanan watches both his Padawan and the Lasat turn to the droid and prepare to launch themselves at him.
“ What is going on here?” A new voice comes from the cockpit. Kanan sighs in relief. Ezra and Zeb straighten up immediately, and even Chopper stops his taunting noises.
“Hera! He started it!” Ezra says immediately, pointing at Zeb. Zeb growls.
“I did not! Chopper started it!”
“I don’t care who started it, all I care about is that you’re making a mess and a commotion in my ship,” Hera says shortly from where she stands imposingly by the cockpit door. “All of you, leave each other alone. Stay out of Sabine’s room, and all of you, separate until you can talk without killing each other again. That means you too, Chopper.”
“But Hera-” Both of them start to interrupt.
“No but s, I don’t want to hear it. Come back when you’re ready,” she says firmly, and nudges Sabine in the direction of the hallway as well.
Zeb rolls his eyes, but doesn’t protest further. Kanan shakes his head as he watches all three (four?) of the kids retreat towards the rooms and sinks down into the bench by the table.
“Thank you,” he says to Hera. She sits down next to him and leans into his side.
“These kids sure are something,” she remarks. Kanan just snorts.
“Tell me about it.”
2.
Hera wakes up slowly at first, confused and blinking in the darkness. She fumbles to figure out what time it is, but before she has the chance, there’s a knock at her door. That’s why she’d woken up, she remembers – a sudden noise, getting louder the longer she doesn’t respond. She stumbles out of bed and presses the button to open the door to her cabin, squinting out into the hallway.
Zeb stands outside her door with his hand poised to knock again. He lets it drop once the door opens and sighs.
“Hera,” he says. “Something’s wrong with the kid.” Those words are enough to send a spike of anxiety through her body and effectively wake her up.
“What happened?”
“I think he’s sick,” Zeb says.
“Oh,” Hera says, her fear dissipating slightly at the mundane explanation. “Okay, thank you. I’ll check on him.” Zeb just grunts in acknowledgement, and it’s then that Hera notices how tired he still must be. “Come on, let’s head back to your room. You can sleep while I help Ezra.” Zeb nods. She guides him through the hallway with a gentle hand on his back as he yawns. The hallway is dark. Each cabin door is closed as they pass by. Chopper is powered down in the cockpit and Hera’s sure the rest of the crew is fast asleep, too. She doesn’t know what time it is exactly, but it’s late and they’re all tired from the recent missions and supply runs.
The door to Ezra and Zeb’s room slides open softly as they approach. Hera nudges Zeb towards his bunk and he slumps into it with little protest, rolling over to face the wall.
Hera climbs a few rungs of the ladder, just enough to lean against Ezra’s bunk and get a better view of the kid. He’s kicked the blankets down past his feet so he can curl into a ball. Hera brushes a hand against his forehead to discover that he’s burning up. Ezra stirs at the motion.
“Hera?” He asks when he opens his eyes, voice gravelly.
“Hey, kid,” she responds gently, brushing his sweaty hair back from his face. Ezra winces at the feeling. “What hurts?”
Ezra shrugs as best he can in this state, arms still wrapped around his knees and clutched to his chest. “I just feel gross,” he says. He makes a face when the words come out hoarse. Hera frowns sympathetically.
“I’ll be right back,” she says, patting his shoulder and lingering for a couple seconds until he nods. She slides down the ladder and heads out to the storage cabinet, then the galley, and returns to Ezra’s side with a glass of water and two fever reducer pills. She helps him sit up and he takes the offered items gratefully, managing a smile that looks more like a grimace as he does. Hera leans over him to the end of the bed, taking the blanket and pulling it up over Ezra’s legs.
“Get some rest,” she says. “I’ll check on you again in the morning.” Ezra nods and lays down, his eyes already starting to droop as sleep catches up to him. Hera ruffles his hair and stays like that, standing on a rung halfway up the ladder with her hand on Ezra’s shoulder, until his breathing evens out and he relaxes.
Hera feels a wave of tiredness that hits her then and treads back to her own cabin, falling into bed with a sigh. The kid will be okay, she reassures herself, and manages to fall asleep.
In the morning, when she wakes up, she refills his water glass and leaves it at the side of his bunk. Ezra is still asleep, and Hera doesn’t disturb him; she heads out again to the lounge and turns on the HoloNet while she waits.
Eventually, Zeb lumbers out of his room, looking around surreptitiously. Hera thinks she knows why.
“Ezra’s still asleep,” she says, and his gaze snaps to her as if he hadn’t even realized she was sitting there.
“I know,” Zeb responds.
“He’ll be fine,” she offers. Zeb bristles.
“I wasn’t worried,” he grumbles, walking past her and into the galley. Hera just gives a knowing smile and sips her caf. When Ezra wakes up, she’ll be here. They all will.
3.
Despite the ongoing intergalactic war, and Ezra’s growing strength as a warrior, there are many times where his behavior reminds Kanan that he’s still just fifteen. Like now, when their informant for their next mission insists they meet in a dingy cantina on Garel, and just looking through the doorway sets both of the Jedi on edge.
This really is a one-man mission, but Ezra was starting to get cabin fever from being cooped up in the Ghost for so long with no action. Hera was beginning to get irritated with his constant fidgeting and had dumped him on Kanan with instructions to get him out of the ship for a while.
It’s simple, and Kanan will do all the talking; all Ezra has to do is not make trouble for himself while they discuss Imperial secrets.
They’ve traveled to far worse places, Kanan reasons as he looks into the dim room, but he would rather not find out what any of these bar-dwelling smugglers would do to them if they were to find out their identity. Kanan tugs his hood a little further down his face and steps through the doorway. He can’t see Ezra in his peripherals anymore thanks to the hood, but he can sense his Padawan following close behind as well as the anxious energy he’s trying (and failing) to suppress through their bond.
Kanan walks down the stairs of the cantina entranceway and lets his eyes sweep over the room. Maybe he’s just paranoid, what with the growing bounties on both of their heads, but every patron in the room seems to glance up as they approach. Kanan levels each calculating gaze with one of his own, and gradually the attention dies down as each person looks away when Kanan glares at them.
As the chatter and music resumes around them, there’s a slight pressure at his elbow. It’s light enough that Kanan partly thinks it’s just his cloak rustling against his arm. But then it tugs a little more, and Kanan glances over to see Ezra hovering a little too close to him, almost leaning into his side as they enter. He holds a hand up to Kanan’s arm, not quite clinging onto him but doing something close to it, as if he’s prepared to grab Kanan and run at any sign of danger. Kanan can see his eyes darting around the place, no doubt scoping out possible escape routes. Old habits die hard, he supposes; Kanan has no doubt that Ezra’s ran into trouble more than once in a place like this one growing up on the streets of Lothal.
Still, the sight of the kid huddling behind him fills him with – protectiveness, or something of the sort. Ezra’s only been part of their team for a couple of months, and his Padawan for even less than that, but Kanan already knows he’d jump into blaster fire for this kid. Kanan allows a small smile to cross his face for just a moment, and tries his best to project a steady confidence across their bond.
“Just stick to the plan,” he says, and Ezra startles when he looks up at Kanan to nod. He lets Kanan take a step away from him, distancing himself as though he hadn’t realized how close they were at all. Kanan smiles a little to himself. It’s a little cute, he has to admit, but they can’t really get much business done if he has a teenager clinging to his arm. “We’ll be in and out of here in no time.”
Ezra smiles, determination etched onto his face, and that’s all Kanan needs to see.
4.
Kanan is only a little caught off guard when Sabine storms past him on her way to her cabin – teenage angst, he’s familiar. There’s been a lot of that going around recently. Sabine can’t effectively “slam” her bedroom door, what with the automatic-sensors and compressed-gas control thing that the whole ship is equipped with, but Kanan thinks she would have slammed it if she could.
Sighing, he follows in her wake, knocking softly on the door after it doesn’t automatically open for him. Locked. Of course.
“Go away,” Sabine’s muffled voice sounds from inside.
“I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay,” Kanan calls.
“It’s fine,” she replies shortly, sounding anything but fine. She sounds angry, but when Kanan reaches out to her signature through the Force, he can tell it’s a mix of anxiety and fear that hides behind it.
“Kid–”
“Don’t call me that! You’re not my dad!” She yells. Kanan winces. “Just go away.”
He hesitates, but understands she needs time to cool off. Still, that doesn’t make him feel any better when he walks away from her door and slumps down in the co-pilot’s chair.
A couple of hours later, when dinner has passed and Sabine still hasn’t come out of her room, Kanan volunteers to bring her a plate and a glass of water. He balances the plate on the same arm that’s carrying the cup so he can knock on her door with his free hand. It still doesn’t open, and there’s no response from inside.
“Sabine, I brought food.”
No answer. Kanan sighs. He sets both items down by his feet.
“I’ll leave it outside,” he calls, and waits a couple seconds, debating. He doesn’t know if she can even hear him – if she’s asleep, or just ignoring him completely – but Kanan wants to say something more.
In the end, he settles for: “Sabine. I might not be your dad, but we’re still family. Whatever you’re dealing with, you can always talk to me. Or not. But either way, I’ll be here.” He waits a few more seconds in now-awkward silence, and decides that that’s enough emotions for the night. He walks back to his own room and gets ready for bed, staring at the ceiling until he falls asleep.
The next morning, on his walk to the ‘fresher, he notices that the plate and glass outside her room are gone.
And later, when Kanan is sipping at his caf and beating Chopper at holochess, Sabine emerges from her room. He glances up when she approaches and says, “Good morning,” trying not to make a big deal of anything, but she walks right up to him without responding. Kanan tilts his head in question, a silent are you okay? at her fidgeting, before Sabine throws her arms around him and squeezes. He hugs back on instinct, but he barely has time to register what’s happening before she pulls away with a small smile.
“Thanks,” she says simply, before turning on her heel and heading into the galley. Kanan hides his grin in another sip of caf. Chopper beeps at him indignantly that it’s his turn, and he continues on with his morning. Everything will be alright.
5.
Hera sits in the pilot’s chair casually, leaned back with her legs crossed and book in hand. It’s been forever since she’s had any time to herself. Typically she can’t let herself relax, not until they’re out in hyperspace, but this planet has seen hardly any Imperial activity in its history, and their patrol earlier had confirmed it. Not a buckethead in sight – yet , the voice in the back of her head calls – and so she lets herself take a moment before they need to meet up with their contact.
It’s quiet on the ship – a little too quiet, she supposes. It probably means that the kids are up to something, but that’s a problem for later. Unfortunately, she only manages to get through about thirty pages of her book before later arrives in the form of Ezra, Zeb, and Sabine.
“Hey, Hera?” Ezra asks. Hera turns to look at them, all squished into the doorway.
“What’s up?”
“Well, since we’re not doing anything for a while, we were wondering if we could go out and explore?”
Zeb rolls his eyes. “Don’t say explore , it sounds suspicious.” And that definitely makes her wary.
“What he meant to say,” Sabine interrupts, “Is that we wanted to check out the market. I’ve been really craving some jogan fruit since we left Lothal.”
“Me too!” Ezra pipes up. Hera eyes them one at a time, scanning their expressions for any ulterior motive. But this time, at least, it really does seem like they just want to go shopping.
“Go ask Kanan,” she settles on. She doesn’t want to be responsible just in case anything bad happens. Ezra cheers as if that’s already a victory, and they turn to head out. Hera shakes her head and goes back to her book.
Well, she tries to. Instead, as soon as the door opens for the kids to leave, Sabine exclaims, “Kanan! We were just about to come find you!”
Understandably, Kanan looks suspicious. He meets Hera’s eyes over their heads. Hera shakes her head and smiles. Before he has the chance to ask, Ezra pipes up.
“Kanan, can the three of us go out to the market? We want to find some jogan fruit,” he explains.
Kanan shrugs. “What did Hera say?”
“She said to ask you,” Zeb says, rolling his eyes.
“Well, I’m not in charge,” Kanan replies elusively, glancing up at Hera again. “It’s up to her.”
Ezra groans. Sabine huffs a light laugh.
“Well, if neither of you care, then we’re gonna go! Bye!” He decides, tugging on Sabine’s arm as he leaves. Zeb looks between Kanan and Hera once, before shrugging and following the others.
Hera has half a mind to call out for them, tell them it’s not safe, it never is – but Kanan’s soft hand on her shoulder grounds her. They’re kids, but they can handle themselves, and this planet is just about as safe as it can get.
“I hope they don’t steal anything, or start a marketplace-wide riot,” is all she says, watching the door slide closed behind them with a hiss. Kanan chuckles.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” he says sagely. Hera laughs, and watches from the cockpit as the three of them walk across the docking bay and toward the center of the city.
+1.
Hera slumps onto the couch in the lounge and closes her eyes, sighing. They’d just come back from a supply run gone wrong, when their rebel informant turned out to have ratted them out to the Empire. They’d barely escaped capture, only thanks to the crew’s quick thinking – but no one was quite unscathed.
Hera had spent the past half hour tending to their injuries, fussing over everyone who’d gotten grazed by a blaster shot or bruised from a fall. She always wishes she could have been there, and done more to help, but someone has to be their escape route. She knows this, but still, seeing all of them covered in dust and scratches makes her wish she could protect them.
But like always, they’d protected each other, and the Ghost managed to jump away at the last second. They’re safe, for now. Hera takes in a breath, holds it, and lets it out slowly.
Everyone’s retreated to their rooms, she’s sure. Running away from tens of stormtroopers will knock anyone right out, her included. She doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting here, but at some point her eyelids have started drooping. She stands slowly and yawns. Time for her to go to bed, too.
But something stops her before she can enter her room. The door whoosh es open, but she hesitates – instead of going inside, she turns and continues down the hall. Hera stops in front of Sabine’s door. It opens automatically, mercifully quiet. The lights are off. Hera can just barely see a shadowy lump on the bunk, tucked into the blankets. Thankfully, Sabine doesn’t stir, but Hera sees the slight rise and fall of her breaths. Hera takes a step back and lets the door close.
Next, she stops in front of Zeb and Ezra’s cabin. It opens just as easily and she peers inside.
“Hey,” a voice says from behind her, startling even in its softness. Hera jumps.
“Kanan,” she says in response.
“What are you doing up?” He asks.
“The same thing you are, most likely,” she says, looking up into his eyes. “Just checking on the kids.” Kanan smiles wistfully.
He admits, “I wanted to make sure.” Hera knows they are, that the both of them had watched everyone retreat to their cabins already and that everyone made it back to the ship safe and sound, but still. The voice in the back of her head just needs to know.
Kanan brings a hand up to her shoulder and rubs it comfortingly. Hera turns her attention back to the room in front of them, letting her eyes travel past Ezra curled up on the top bunk down to Zeb, snoring on the lower one. They’re both fast asleep. Good.
“Come on,” Kanan says softly, evidently reaching the same conclusion. “Your turn.”
“Our turn,” Hera reminds him with a smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.”