Hook, Line and Sinker

by nogreateragony78

When Ezra Bridger suffers the unexpected fall out of a difficult choice, he and the rest of the Ghost's Crew struggle to adjust to the resulting changes, not entirely successfully. First in the 4th Season ShortStuff AU!

1. Rex, Kanan, Ezra

Hook Line and Sinker

Be warned… deaged Ezra Bridger to follow. This piece is nothing like some of the more typical 'what if they found him earlier' situations we already love so much in the SWR fandom…Ezra's not age regressed in terms of his mind in this story, just in terms of physical/biochemical status, which is the plot driver/humor creator throughout most of this story for me.

This piece will contain: angst, humor, lots of bad jokes about fishing., as well as tiny Padawans, bewildered Jedi Masters and Ex Clone Troopers who deserve a lifetime's worth of free drinks for putting up with innumerable moments of emotionally constipated bullshit. (Please take the threat of semi horrified Rex/Kanan bonding very very seriously.)

Chapter One: Rex

(In which there are arguements, explanations and invitations to go fishing)

"Tion te haran!?" The swear's instinctive - automatic. Rex's well aware even before the Mand'oa words leave his mouth that his expression and tone are bemused - even if the situation isn't actually all that funny. The reaction is largely involuntary - old age's long ingrained habit of using humor as a means to cope with stress.

'What the hell' indeed. He'd heard Ezra had had some kind of incident, butwhen he'd met Kanan this morning in the mess hall and followed him back to the Ghost on the promise of more information he hadn't forseen anything quite like this.

In front of him, the significantly shorter than normal Jedi Padawan doesn't even bother to turn around at the sound of his voice, just tenses a little, hunching his narrower than normal shoulders, before speaking quietly. "Hey Rex." Ezra's voice is an octave higher than it was before at least. Then he's done with introductions - pulling out one of the galley's lower storage drawers to use as a makeshift step stool as he clamors up and onto the counter top so he can reach the storage cabinets and presumably whatever he needs to eat.

"What…?" the questions mostly rhetorical. "What in karking hell happened?"

"Weird force-related banthashit…"

"The Ash'taan'aleki." Sabine and Kanan answer his question pretty much simultaneously.

"The what again?" Rex itches at his beard thoughtfully.

"The previously unknown residents of Davosh System's moon twenty-three." Ezra's voice is almost bored sounding - a little annoyed, and a little embarrassed. "A highly reclusive force sensitive species who enjoy kriffing with their unexpected visitors apparently. They're the reason that I look like…well, me, right now." The kid is dressed, from what Rex can tell, in plain gray child sized sweats and an orange button pullover shirt with a stylized velociraptor on its back panel, and he's got nothing but white socks on his feet. "Can we not talk about it any more right now though? Because it's really just a long, stupid pointless story."

Zeb huffs from his spot at the table at that, while Sabine grunts in apparent agreement. Kanan meanwhile, shifts on the ground where he stands, sighing at the comment very softly.

"Fair enough." Rex allows with a small nod.

Ezra nods in return and goes back to finding something to eat.

Rex watches as the boy – because he can scarcely be called anything more honest - digs out a plastic bowl, a spoon and a box of grain cereal from the bottom shelf of one of the cabinets. He seems to be less successful at reaching his preferred plastic glass which is stored up on one of the top shelves. Stretching upwards on his tip toes to try and reach it makes his whole body wobble precariously.

"Ezra, get down please."

"Karabast kid! Ask for help already…"

"Damn it, Bridger, Hera's said not to climb up there repeatedly…" All three adult members of Ghost's crew speak simultaneously, in what is clearly not the first incarnation of this particular conversation - though only Kanan does more than speak, stepping forward to physically lift his Padawan off his feet, which earns a disgruntled little grunt.

"Guys… I'm thinking I can manage to get my own breakfast without catastrophe." He peers down at the floor. "It's what - three feet down? I've fallen down nearly twenty with nothing worse than a mild concussion when I was not much bigger than this. Seriously. Chill out."

"Kid amazing as this sounds, you're not actually helping your argument here." Kanan floats Ezra's selected dishware and food over to the galley table, then shifts his Padawan from his right hip to his left, opening the door to the cooling unit as he does so with his other hand so that Ezra can retrieve various items from units top shelf without having to request it. Rex notes that, perhaps because of Kanan's empathetic gesture, the boy makes no attempt to wiggle free of his Master's grip or even ask to be set down, simply accepting the assistance in what Rex would as easily call contentment as compliance.

Kanan carries Ezra all the way over to the table before setting him gently down on his feet, returning to the counter, afterwards, headed to where he knows that Hera stocks his favorite tea. "Hera's ship, Hera's rules, Ezra," He calls out over his shoulder. "Stop writing checks that you're not physically capable of cashing anymore. Your coordination right now is just as altered as your reach and balance, as we've already discussed…"

"Not to mention you're getting banthashit from your boots on the countertops every time you climb up like you have been, which is rude." Sabine addition earns her no response at all from Ezra but a distinct frown of displeasure from Kanan. Meanwhile Rex is looking Ezra, trying very hard without much success at all to not just stand there gape jawed and stare.

Bright blue eyes glare out at the world from what can only be described as a pixie-esque face and an incredibly small, compact body. Yes, Ezra Bridger's always seemed a little small, Rex is conscious of that, but at this stage he seems closer to outright petite. Ezra meets his eyes, for a moment, and his lips quirk just a little in sardonic acknowledgment of the unspoken thought.

"For the record, I only look like a kid right now, Rex." He informs the trooper, "My head's the same as it's always been. I still have all my knowledge and memories. Not that anyone around here seems to remember that for more than a second or three. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going back to my room to eat."

He spins away then, without further comment, opening up the box and filling up his bowl…leaving small bits of cereal and drips of blue milk sloshed across the tabletop as he maneuvers the oversized packages and cartons as best he can, before roughly shoving a spoon he takes from the table top into one of his back pockets, lifting his bowl from the table and turning to beat a hasty retreat.

"Karabast, Kit, you're not going to at least wipe the table? We're already stuck with the rest of your chores, as it is. Seriously, these days, kids are just so karking messy." Zeb's comment is clearly meant to be humerous - a way of diffusing not building the tension, but Ezra still replies back with a string of Mand'oa so natural sounding and foul that makes Rex's eyebrows raise as the boy heads out through the galley's main doors into the main corridor.

"Language Bridger!" Sabine calls down the hallway after him.

"Oh for Force's Sake… back off of him already, Sabine." Kanan, who Rex might've normally expected would be the one to employ that line on his Padawan on any other day, snaps out the words as he leans his head back against the galley's cooler and exhales on a deep sigh, "This is…all of this is hard enough on all of us right now without you deliberately antagonizing him." His head pivots in Rex's direction, sightlessly. " I'm sorry about that, Rex. I honestly thought at this point that he'd welcome seeing another friendly face to talk to not that he'd…" He gestures to the door helplessly without further comment.

"What? Somehow stop acting like a karking brat having a tantrum…?" Sabine mutters, "Newsflash - he's been doing that more and more over the past week and a half, Kanan. And frankly stated, I'm starting to think the kid is actually *gunning* for a spanking."

Zeb lets out a sympathetic if irritated huff. "Don't you think that you're, I don't know, being a little bit hard on the Kit under the circumstances?"

Sabine snorts and scraps more eggs onto her fork. "I think that you're both letting him get away with murder. I think that things are only going to really settle back to normal around here if something's done to stabilize him and reign him back in. If I'd pulled this kind of Banthashit back at home at the same age, my mother would have tanned my hide hard enough I wouldn't have been able to sit for a week…" She cuts her own sentence off, with a quick look toward Rex who doesn't even acknowledge her sudden embaressment. He's too busy continuing to study Kanan's body language. Then her gaze drops back to her plate as she continues to eat.

Zeb just raises a brow, ticking off his points on his fingers as he replies to Sabine's comment. "One - what the kriff do any of us know about karking normal, Sabine? This isn't Mandalore, and even if it were, this isn't a little kid's typical kind of temper tantrum. The heart of the problem with the Kit right now isn't stubbornness, it's frustration and fear. Ezra's been involuntarily de-aged almost ten years, then told that he's going to have to live with the switch up indefinitely. It's no surprise that he's freaked. You claiming you wouldn't be in his situation?" Zeb sticks up another finger to join the first, "Two…Kanan didn't you mention something earlier about his whole physical vs his mental age thing and how it's probably behind a lot of this?'"

Kanan nods then straightens up a little bit, "Ezra's memories and knowledge skill sets are all still identical to where they were before he…to what they were when his heart stopped. He hasn't lost any cognitive knowledge or skills that he had from that time, but he's still subject to his current body's regular physical and biochemical limitations."

"Great. So he's a teenage boy with even more fucked up hormones than usual is what you telling us." Sabine takes two vicious bites from her buttered toast "I still hold my ground, Kanan: the kid is practically begging for some kind of discipline. He at least needs to be grounded to his room for all the backtalk, or it's just going to keep getting worse and worse."

Zeb snorts at that, unimpressed with Sabine's opinion "Where have you been, Wren? He hardly leaves his room or the vent systems already. Which is more than half of the problem, in my opinion…"

Sabine mutters more than a little rebelliously, "Hera would never have tolerated this Banthashit this long if she were the one here."

Kanan's head snaps toward her voice, "Yes, well Hera isn't available right now, is she? She's been a little 'busy' with her meetings ever since we got back. In the meantime forgive the rest of us for attempting something as horrible as some kriffing empathy…" And woah. There's a great deal more frustration than Rex thinks Kanan meant to reveal in that particular statement. Given Zeb and Sabine's slightly shell-shocked expressions, he's not the only one hearing it either. The Jedi Knight makes a twisted up face, then visibly forces himself to relax, and begins once again.

"Look Sabine." Kanan's voice is soft, as understanding as Rex imagines he can make it at the moment given his own emotions. "I get that you're frustrated. I know that Ezra's pushing all of our buttons right now. I know that Hera's been gone more than usual, thanks to the need to train the newest additions to the fleet. I *also* know that you think that instead of my being the apparent brick wall of authority you assume Ezra needs right now you've decided I'm some kind of pushover but let's at least look at it honestly…even if I were to go out there and spank him like you claim I should it's wouldn't make anything better, not for Ezra and not for you, because most of this attitude of yours isn't even about Ezra's current actions. It's because of what happened on Davosh 23."

The teenage girl flinches as if she'd been struck by the comment. Kanan sighs, and takes several steps over to the table, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder with his free hand lightly. "For the record: none of this was your fault, Sabine, and all of us know that. Ezra especially. He chose to save your life… just like you thought that you were trying to save that child's before it happened. Ezra just…expected a more final set of consequences when he did it than the ones he ended up stuck with."

Sabine's face goes from frustrated and scowling to carefully, painfully neutral… "I know that." She grits out tightly.

"Do you?" Kanan drops his hand. "Then take a step back and just - just give it a rest, Sabine. Detach if you need to do so. Go work on a couple of your paintings. Just, for Force's sake please give him a couple more days of peace to sort out his head and his hormones, I'm begging you. If it makes you feel any better, I promise you that I'll pin him down after breakfast this morning and talk to him about his…" He waves his hands, "Attitude. But you have to stop and remember that the reason we're in this mess at all? Is because he was doing what he thought was the right thing all right? He's like he is right now because he cared…and it isn't fair for you to keep punishing him for it."

"No." Sabine slams a hand down on the table, "He's like he is now because he's a reckless idiot with a death wish. Don't you dare romanticize what happened into something nobler than it is." Rex doesn't miss the fact, that, though the Mandalorian's hands are clenched into fists when she continues, they are also shaking with the strength of her own emotion. "I'm done." She mutters, drops her fork to her plate, and rises, stomping toward the door, "I'll be in the lower bay - doing an inventory like Hera asked me, if you guys need me."

The Lasat watches her exit the room with a grim but unsurprised expression, "Well that went well. You want me to go and…?"

Kanan nods, "Yeah …if you really don't mind and feel up to pitch hitting at the moment. Right now, I just need to *stop* and regroup."

"Not a problem. You want me to start with The Firecracker or should I go talk to Shortstuff?"

The Jedi raises a hand to rub his forehead, "Why don't you talk to Sabine. I'll deal with tracking down Ezra. We'll see about talking or sparring some sense into his thick skull *after* I force feed him a proper breakfast. He doesn't even like that cereal he took with him…especially after eating almost nothing but it the past few days. He just hates being forced to ask for help with everything at the moment."

"Understood. I'll keep that in mind during meal times. It's easy enough to just offer to make an extra serving. Now - it there anything else I need to know before I head out?"

Kanan considers, "Yeah. Please let Hera know when you see her that Ezra and I are headed off base for a couple days - Force, possibly for a couple of weeks if that's what it's going to take. We'll go scout or pick up a couple of milk runs or something. At this point, I'll take anything to get us out of the fishbowl of this complex. Stir crazy and shut in are both more than half of Ezra's problem: you're right about that. But the bigger issue is that he can't stand all the constant staring when we leave the ship. Right now every look, every joke, everything within sight is just a constant slap in his face from his perspective. He keeps getting slammed emotionally over how everything is…"

"…Different." Zeb completes for him, voice full of understanding. Rex watches the Jedi Knight nods his head tiredly, his face tight with widespread exhaustion. "And it also ain't helping," Zeb continues, "that the kit isn't regularly eating or sleeping cause he's so karking freaked out."

Kanan nods, spreading his hands and shrugging, helplessly, "I'm hoping that…I don't know. Maybe if I can get him alone for awhile, away from all the sarcasm and the constant eagle eye of so many people gawking at him, we can actually start to deal with some of the shock and grief he's working so hard at repressing, and once that's managed we can also start getting him comfortable with moving around more in this body. I think he'll calm down a lot once we resume normal sparring."

"Sounds like a plan to me. I'll fill Hera in whenever I see her next. Is there anything else I need to keep an eye on in the meantime while you two are away? Well other than Little Miss 'Just ignore me I'll be brewing a bomb over here?'"

The sarcastic nickname, this time, actually makes Kanan laugh. "No. If what she told me last night is accurate, then Hera will be finishing up her meetings in Central Command sometime after lunch. And hopefully just getting Ezra off the ship for awhile, should diffuse a lot of the lingering general tension. "

"Kanan …are you really sure that you wanna take the kid off somewhere all by yourself? Sabine's right about the way he's skidding off the rails, when it comes to you know…listening."

Zeb's blunt question draws the Jedi up short - whether in surprise or consternation. Zeb lets out a low grunt of sympathy. "I'm not saying it's entirely Ezra's fault - truth is I don't blame him for getting sucked right now into the emotional quagmire. Even unstressed kids that size are practically nothing but emotions. It's just…well the Kid's bolting like a pissy lothcat every time he hits his limit break right now, Kanan, and if that happens to him when you two are out there alone, well things could turn ugly fast, if you get me."

The rest of the sentence goes mercifully unspoken. If that happens, Kanan'll be in a completely unfamiliar territory with a smaller, pissier Ezra who will be far, far easier to lose - especially on a planet like Yavin. "I…I don't know anymore." The Jedi Knight admits eventually. Kanan slumps into a seat at the table, reaches up to take off his eye shield and massage the bridge of his nose. He's clearly reviewing his various options, and not much liking any of them.

He looks so weary in that moment -so overwhelmed by the sheer weight of both his love and his sense of personal duty - that he reminds Rex painfully of Obi Wan in the later days of the Clone Wars for a moment. Stubborn Jedi. Always carrying the weight of the entire damn world on their shoulders as if they're the only ones who know how to tote it.

His next words are impulse. "The two of you could always come along with me on my next mission."

Jedi and Lasat as one turn their heads toward him at that announcement, their expressions vaguely stunned. Rex is somewhat amused to realize from their expressions that in the depth of their own conversation, the two males had apparently forgotten he was there.

Zeb tilts his head after a moment, "Your mission?" His expression has gone from stunned to merely curious.

"Yes. Before I left on my last assignment, Ezra, me and some of my other Vod'ae down in the Chow Hall were talking about a large spot that I noted a couple hundred klicks north of here on the planet aerial surveys. Photos indicate it's in one of the larger continental transition zones and I thought that might be a good place for possible munitions or firearms training. Plus there are a couple of large lakes and rivers in the area as well that look promising. I was going to investigate." Yavin's 4's rich biomes have in many ways been a literal boon to the Rebellion's bland, inexpensive nutritional options. Fresh protein sources, like fresh produce, are treasures not to be overlooked. Rex will frankly be thrilled if he manages a few profitable days of fishing.

"So anyway - we would definitely be roughing it, at least accommodations wise, but if you and the Kid want to get out from under the radar for awhile then why don't you and the little Nadala Kovid come along with me up north for company? You won't be completely 'without gawkers' that way maybe, but I can slip back into the woodwork easy enough if there's need. And kriff if you want the two of you could probably even spend some of the time just helping with the fishing. I got the distinct impression earlier that Ezra's fond of that. "

Zeb snorts. "Sure fishing's fun. As long as you're not the bait for the 'fish' in question, maybe." He looks at the Jedi, "It's actually a great idea Kanan - the kid *loves* fishing and it'll get you both out into the open air an sunshine. Just call it a little belated Father-Son type of bonding."

That statement prompts a sharp look in the Lasat's direction from Kanan, whose forehead wrinkles in the sort of way that makes Rex wonder if he hasn't stumbled into another, no less important conversation between them. "You…you're sure that you don't have any other pressing commitments?" Rex wonders if the younger man even realizes how conflicted he's looking at the moment. He wants to go, that's clear he just doubts their genuine welcome for some reason.

"There's nothing that can't wait. (Or can't be rescheduled in sometime next week. Never underestimate the value of maintaining good Jedi Maintenance. It's one of the first rules Rex learned to embrace in the field, and all that usually entails is coming back to him now surprisingly easily.) We can even take my ship when we go if you like …though I'll warn you now it's nothing fancy - but it'll hold all the equipment we need for the next couple of days with spare room besides for storage and talking. It's also got two rooms with bunks if you don't want to sleep outside overnight and get eaten alive."

"We've all had a lot worse," Zeb observes with a small snort, and the look on Kanan's face confirms he clearly agrees.

" All right then, that's one item on my checklist checked off. Are you going to bring the droid along with you as well, do you think?"

"Chopper?" Kanan frowns, seemingly surprised by the question, "I hadn't planned to, no…Do…do you think that we'd need him along to for some reason?"

"Need, no. Though I'd be happy to have him. My charger is just broken - he'd need to bring along a portable one." Rex snorts softly, "I've always gotten the impression that Chopper and Ezra have a certain kind of Sympatico, if you catch my drift… You know how it is with a droid and his boy."

That earns him another of Kanan's genuine chuckles.

Rex grins back, because Chopper may be a literal murder-bot even on his best days, but the droid is also clearly fond of the Ghost crew - Hera and Ezra Bridger especially, and Rex remembers far too much about R2-D2 and Anakin Skywalker's unique, long-lasting friendship to disregard the value such a 4th member might represent in the right space or situation. "Of course," Rex spreads his hands wide, "All of this is assuming that you actually *want* to take the boy and come out on mission with me…"

"I think I actually do." Kanan's voice is more than a little horrified, much to Rex's amusement. Though to be fair he doesn't honestly know, if the Jedi Knight's apparent mild horror is at the thought of being forced into prolonged periods of time with him as the only other available adult company, or if Kanan Jarrus truly doesn't like fishing.

"Ni kar'taylir darasuum gar. Don't worry about it so much, Commander, " Rex can't resist teasing him just a little, lips quirking as he goes on. "If it makes you feel any better, I promise that this time around the prey that we're after will at least be smaller than the crew is. Give me a few hours to resupply, and then comm me for a point of departure location. Now if you excuse me, I'll be getting on my way."

Zeb's snort of laughter rings through the ship as Rex rises from his chair before Kanan can come up with a retort of his own, heading out toward the bases' center and the necessary pre-mission rounds of supply gathering. It has been, he decides, smiling and shaking his head as he goes, too long since he's looked quite this forward to a chance to stop and go fishing.

Chapter 2: Kanan

(In which wisdom comes to those who eat their karking breakfast)

When Kanan leaves the kitchen to track down Ezra approximately fifteen minutes later, it's with a tray of hot waffles, fresh fruit and two bowls of scrambled eggs all in one of his hands. It takes him no effort at all to find the boy - sitting, kicking his legs back and forth restlessly in the quiet as he dangles them off the edge of his upper bunk.

He finds his Padawan doing exactly what he'd expected him to do – namely ignoring his breakfast. Ezra is listlessly pushing his now soggy cereal around in a bowl of lukewarm blue milk with his spoon despite the continued insistent rumbling of his stomach.

Honestly, later today Kanan's just dumping the rest of that box of cereal in the trash where it belongs.

"Ezra - bring over ones of the tray tables, would you please? My hunger sense likely outperformed my stomach and there's likely more than enough for two here if you want to come share a portion." A small body drops out of the upper bunk almost immediately in response to the comment, Ezra bringing over the requested item with a decided eagerness in his step.

Kanan smiles in response both to the rumbling of Ezra's stomach and to the easy almost thoughtless obedience. He divides up the portions without another word, and they both begin to eat in silence, Ezra practically inhaling each bite as it reaches his mouth

"…I owe Zeb an apology, don't I?" Ezra mutters after a couple of minutes, once his fruit is gone and he's demolished most of his waffles. Well, at least the kid's self-aware enough now that he's eating that Kanan doesn't have to work him around to that particular conclusion. Now if he can just figure out how to help Ezra stabilize enough emotionally that those kind of sudden outbursts aren't happening what feels like every fifteen minutes.

"Yes, Kid - you do. And you also owe him some help with his chores later on - I'm sure that there are at least a couple that he can think of you can help him finish up even in the state that you're currently in, and if there's not than I'll have a talk Hera later about coming up with some ideas that seem suitable . In the meantime - eat the rest of your food. You've got to be better about fueling up regularly Ezra. Your mind and body are both under a lot of stress at the moment and in case you missed the memo actual protein is your friend."

Ezra complies with his order willingly enough, dropping down on the floor in front of where Kanan sits on the Edge of Zeb's bunk while they both finish their breakfast. "Thanks for this, by the way, it's really good." He comments with a mouth more than half full of eggs.

Kanan responds initially by reaching out silently to tousle the hair on his Padawan's head.

"It's not a problem, Kid." He adds after he's finished chewing his own mouthful of food, "I'm just glad to see that you're finally doing better nausea-wise." Whether it had been hormones or nerves, at first, the changed to his Padawan's body had wrecked terrible havoc initially on his Ezra's digestive system. Which had left the boy miserable because frankly Ezra's world had been challenging enough already all on its own without fate also inviting hypoglycemia along to the party.

Ezra sighs at the comment, setting his fork down with a clatter. "Foods just… frustrating for me right now, Kanan. Nothing tastes like I remember it should anymore, and on top of that it's like I can't even enter the kitchen these days without somebody showing up to stalk me. I still*know* how to the cook for myself, I really do and the constant hovering is just…"

'Humiliating.' Ezra may not say that last bit, but it doesn't mean Kanan can't fill in the blanks. He reaches out again to squeeze the boy's shoulder sympathetically. Wishing he had better ideas on how to give Ezra back his old sense of dignity.

"I know you can cook Ezra - you helped me with prep just the other evening, but you can't light the stove alone right now without having to practically climb atop it, and you can't reach the cooktop at at without having to balance precariously and none of us benefit if you end up burned at the moment. Now, I've already talked to Hera about how we need to outfit a few more rooms on the ship with stools or benches so you can access things more easily, and once that happens, things will change for the better I promise you, but in the meantime…."

Ezra nods, huffing at this information quietly, "I know. In the meantime I'm kriff'd basically.'

No not kriff'd, Kanan thinks, just unavoidably dependant. Which to Ezra, Kanan acknowledges, probably equates to much the same feeling. Sabine may not understand it right now, but Kanan does, in a way that makes his chest ache. Ezra's living his life right now in a constant low grade mixtures of both frustration and its corresponding sibling humiliation.

No spanking in the world could hurt his Padawan right now than near constant self-perception that's he's somehow been made helpless by this, been reduced into something weaker and *less.*

"Ezra…." He draws in a deep breath, trying to find the right words to address the problem, but his Padawan cuts him off, whether deliberately to avoid the topic further or because he hadn't noticed Kanan's opening. "So, I didn't see Hera last night - she must have gotten back pretty late from Central Command again. Is she stuck for most of today as well in meetings?"

Ezra's voice is distinctly wistful as he asks - like he's missing the company of the Ghost's Twi'lek pilot. Kanan more than sympathizes with the feeling, but there's also a strange layer of guilt in the question when Ezra asks, as if he blames himself for how much Hera's been away lately…

Which is fruitless, since Ezra has no control whatsoever over Hera's current schedule.

"She'll be gone for the morning, yes - but she's supposed to be back by mid-afternoon, or at least that's what she indicated. In the meantime, Kid, you and I have just been recruited into helping Rex over the next couple of days with completing his latest field mission. Pack up your gear, Ezra, because later on this afternoon once he finishes supplying his ship for a trip north of here, all three are going to be blowing this caf stand."

Ezra startles, "Really?!" His Padawan's voice is surprised at the news - not to mention more than a little elated. Probably because the poor kid's been going slowly out of his mind ever since they brought him back to Yavin, his only real distractions having been books and whatever cleaning and maintenance he can perform in the Ghost's vent systems.

His Padawan can, Kanan knows, face and conquer many, many kinds of challenges, but what Ezra seems to have no ability to conquer whatsoever is slow death of prolonged idleness, and the boy's been faced with practically nothing but that since…well ever since the 'incident' on planet.

Kanan for all he tries, can't bring himself to consciously refer to what occurred on that planet as Ezra's death. Oh, he rationally knows that's exactly what had happened, yes: at least for a couple of heart shattering minutes. Force, he had literally felt the link snap between them when Ezra passed, had nearly vomited and struggled for several long minutes after just to stay upright and regulate his shallow breaths. Then just as suddenly what had been ripped from its psychic mores had been back, leaving Kanan reeling with shock and almost breathless elation.

Kanan's not even ashamed to admit that at that point he cried like a baby for a good fifteen minutes or so, while the others hovered close, convinced he'd had some kind of psychological break as a result of the loss, until he'd finally managed to calm himself down enough to explain what had actually just happened from his perspective, and then there'd been nothing any of them could do but wait for their hosts to finish the healing they'd apparently begun.

It had taken several hours after that before Ezra had been physically returned to them as well: his tiny, warm, body deposited in Kanan's trembling arms wrapped in a thick, scratchy blanket by as the creature bearing him back into their presence had apologized profusely for his Padawan's lack of appropriately sized clothing. As if that had matter to any of them even a wit at that moment.

Kanan hadn't been able to bring himself to put Ezra down for hours after that, afraid of letting his out of his arms reach after so momentous an experience, and even now days later, there are times he seriously wants to cling to him at odd moments - to pick him up and hug him fiercely. To wrap him up and stuff him in a closet somewhere where the kid can't ever be hurt in the same way again. There are moments when, despite his best attempts to move on from what happened, he wants to shudder at his Padawan's sheer smallness of size and newfound fragility.

Only Ezra hasn't actually changed that much at all, just shifted in some aspects minutely.

'Which is probably half of the problem,' Kanan acknowledges wryly after a moment, since he's not the only one stuck with dealing with the embarrassing tendency toward clinginess - or at least that's what Kanan suspects - given by the way right now Ezra's both hungry for any kind of physical contact and oddly shy about admit it, not to mention the way he's reflecting back the emotional reactions of almost everyone around him.

Yes, that kind of psychic mirroring's something Ezra has always done to a degree off of the people around him– though Kanan doubts he realizes it's happening consciously. It's never been a problem before precisely – just something Kanan tries to remain constantly aware of, especially when exhaustion or higher than normal levels of emotion are also affecting his padawan's shielding.

Ezra has been…markedly leakier in both directions, empathetically speaking, since they returned home from planet. His personal mental defenses seem to be thinner right now than Kanan has seen them, well, *ever,* outside a few times Ezr'a been either injured and unconscious. Kanan frowns. He'd thought that was just the natural effect of the shock of the situation and a few rounds of meditation would be enough to help him re-establish his balance. Now though…may it's time to actually step up and intercede more actively. After they're done with their food Kanan really needs to get the kid to sit down with him in a mutual meditation session long enough for Kanan to examine and if necessary, help him prop back up his increasingly battered personal shielding.

He also needs to check the kid for signs of psychic bruising, frankly speaking.

'Why in kriff didn't I think to check that earlier?" Meaning before Ezra had progressed to outright swearing at Zeb this morning in the kitchen, because yes Sabine had been grinding on Ezra's nerves, but usually, the boy uses sarcasm to deflect - not flight or that kind of vociferous swearing he'd thrown Zeb's way earlier this morning.

If Kanan's Padawan is good at anything at all in his life, then it's his ability to deflect the truth about what he's actually feeling from others - especially when he's feeling vulnerable or hurting. The fact he's failing at it so hard right now certainly merits that Kanan start asking some probing questions.

He'd thought at the beginning of this that most of what Ezra was suffering from emotionally was the natural outcome of shock. Now, though, he has to wonder if the root of the problem isn't actually something more basic - something rooted in the biochemical. He'd just assumed after his restoration by the Ash'tan'aleki that Ezra had retained all the resources he needed to maintain his typical mental defenses, but now he's beginning to have serious doubts - at least in terms of his Padawan's capacity for fully unguided self-shielding.

Which would explain why, Kanan realizes after a moment more, though Kanan can literally feel how hard his Padawan trying to remain calm and centered and and in control the last few days, Ezra is currently barely clinging to his composure like a height phobic climber clings to a crumbling cliff ledge. The kid wants to act more maturely than he's managing - Kanan has actually heard him castigate himself over the subject of his own emotional volatility, but Ezra literally *can't* seem to find and maintain any real sense of balance. Instead, he's getting tossed around like a piece of battered drift wood in a hurricane. Which is humiliating to Ezra as well as frankly exhausting.

"Ezra…" He asks, his voice as calm and non-judgemental as he can possibly make it as he restarts the conversation, "I'm not trying to judge here, but I need you to honestly answer a couple of questions for me if you can, to see if I can help you a bit with the way that you're coping. Since you woke up on Davrosh 23- have you noted any differences in how 'sharp' how the world feels around you…especially when you're under stress or opener than normal for your daily meditations?"

The dark haired boy blinks at the question, pausing his fork between his mouth and the plate. "Well, everything seems… louder generally, I guess? And it's hard for me to be still now for more than a couple of minutes at a time, both mentally and physically." He shrugs noncommittally, "But I guess that I just figured that's essentially the norm for being between six and ten physically. I never liked slowing down when I was still a kid. Kriff I *still* don't like keeping still, I've just learned to better ignore the unavoidable twitchiness."

Kanan makes a mental note to himself how very deliberately non-specific that stated range of age is. He has a feeling that the subject is going to merit further discussion later…since up until now, Ezra has insisted he's eight and ten years old, at least according to his memories regarding his body. "Have you had any more headaches, nightmares, visions etc than usual – since we got back to Yavin System?"

Ezra snorts. "Well, I guess I've had a couple more migraines than usual, maybe? But I'm not complaining. Frankly, I'm just relieved not to be dealing with some of the other physical stuff that seemed to dog me constantly the last time I was this size."

"….Excuse me?" Kanan nearly drops the last bite of his waffle right along with his fork.

Ezra shrugs apparently unaware of Kanan's building consternation, "It'd be a pain in the ass to have to deal with stuff like hives or frequent nose bleeds while I'm up in the vents. Granted the food available here on Yavin's totally different than what was available back home after my parents were taken…I'm not stuck with what I can find in the trash like I was the first time around. Plus I know how to skin test now for allergens now - which I didn't before.

Kanan holds up his hand to cut him off. "Did you just say you had hives your last time around?"

"Yeah…but not like, well, *often* or anything. Once I figured out how to identify the bad stuff allergy wise and stay the kriff away from it I was just fine. It just took me longer than it should have to figure out why Mom and dad never let me try some samples at the markets."

"Define 'bad stuff'" Kanan growls back using his fingers to frame the word with no small amount of sarcasm. Because frankly he's a little irritated. Ezra's been aboard the Ghost three years, and *now* is when they're finally getting around to this particular enlightening conversation? Sabine and Hera also have allergies, and preferably he likes the Ghost's crew still breathing.

"This really specific Lotholian grain I've never seen grown or sold anywhere else but on planet? Otherwise it's just a couple of planet fruits: two common and one really not"

"And you've never thought to, I don't know, *mention* these allergies to Hera or I so we didn't accidentally bring any of said food home with us when we're resupplying?!"

The child in front of him shrugs, "…I see em now, I don't eat em? It's not like you guys do a lot of complicated baking. I guess I just didn't see any reason you needed to know when I had it covered?" Ezra's voice is getting slightly defensive.

"Did you ever have an anaphylactic reaction bad enough from said allergies that your parents needed to start carrying around an epi-pen?"

Ezra just blinks at him. "Huh? An epi-whatsit?"

Kananraises a hand to rub the suddenly throbbing vein on the left side of his head. "You know what Ezra, never mind. I'm just going to assume you may need one. So, well we're on the topic of possible medical crisises there anything else interesting that I should know on the subject of your health before it gives me an unprovoked heart attack eventually?"

"Uhm…I had a few months of pretty intense ear and nose bleeds that started the same year that my folks were taken away? So I suppose that might happen on occasion."

'Just lovely, of course he had.' "Do you happen to know what triggered either?"

"No - they just quit on their own after I moved out into to my tower on the edge of town instead of staying in Central." Ezra frowns a little, obviously thinking further back. "Come to think of it, that was also just about when things started getting easier in terms of my controlling my empathy. I think my instinctive skill for shielding may finally have gotten better or something." Ezra taps his small forehead lightly. "Before that period it was like things got quiet, then loud, then quiet again over and over in my head on this weird kind of rotation, until it all just faded to a kind of background static. Well until we met and things got strangely tickly inside my head."

"When we first met it *tickled?*'" Kanan raises an eyebrow at that admission. This is the first time Ezra's ever spoken in any kind of detail about his own experiences when they first made contact. His Padawan is, as a general rule, reluctant to describe the processes occurring inside that lockbox that he refers to as his head.

"Sort of. Sort of it was more like, oh I don't know…" Ezra pauses a moment to consider the issue then brightens, "have you ever had an itch you can feel back by your ears but you just can't seem to reach it to scratch it no matter what you do? It was kind of like that really, ever present and annoying because nothing I tried seemed to stop it…."

'Yeah kid, I hear you.' Sometimes the pull of the Force could be irritatingly insistant.

"And the same thing is happening to you again now?"

Ezra tilts his head, "No. That was just what happened when we first met. It was more of a throwaway comment. Since I woke up on Davosh 23…well it's not like it was the first time around but it's also not that different exactly. It's louder and the static's back now, but it's not affected by location in the same way it used to be, now it's more like its affected by the number of *people* around." He pauses chewing on his lip thoughtfully, then frowns, "Though now that I really think about it, maybe it was *always* that way before too and I was just too young then to process it consciously. Now *you're*…" He pauses,

"And now I'm?" Kanan's a little afraid to ask.

"Now, going back to the previous topic, Kanan, now you're itch that I CAN scratch when I feel it, without too much difficulty." He makes a huffing sound, then he blushes a little. "Sorry, I probably should have said that a little more tactfully."

Kanan, far from offended by the analogy, finds he simply wants to laugh at the boy's sheepish expression. If only because now every time one of them ping the other through the bond he's going to be stuck with the mental picture of an Ezra-colored lothcat, foot to his ear scratching furiously in reaction.

"But enough of this for now," Ezra's finished his own breakfast, judging by the way he sets his plate aside. Kanan wonders if the boy is aware of the fact that at this point he's so hyped up on having eaten real food that he's practically vibrating as he leans forward. "You mentioned that Rex needed our help on a mission? How? And where are we going to be going?"

"That site north of the base that you were talking to Rex about a couple of weeks ago. The job is basically scouting, site prep and if any of the lakes support life, local protein capture for nutritional analysis."

Ezra draws up short and shakes his head several times like he's trying to clear it before speaking. "Wait..hold on for just a minute…did you just imply that we're actually going FISHING? With Rex?!" The dark haired boy's tone at the query is outright incredulous.

Kanan snorts, unable to help the reaction. "Yes, we are, Ezra. Unless you have some kind of reasoned objection to us going along that I need to be made aware of?"

"Not really. Though I do have one question…what are we going to be using as bait? Cause I'm a whole lot smaller than Zeb is, and I'm inherently suspicious…."

Kanan can hear the smirk in Ezra's tone as he climbs off the floor and doesn't even consciously think about his next move -just instinctively delivers a sharp, quick swat to the seat of Ezra's pants in retaliation for the comment, in the same way he's seen other parents teasingly respond to their mouthy small children in city markets all across this part of the galaxy.

Then he freezes, and winces in preparation for the oncoming explosion of Ezra's almost inevitable reaction to the gesture. His Padawan doesn't even seem to *notice* for the moment though - any more than he would have a more typical smack to the back of the head. Instead, Ezra remains completely fixated on the novelty of idea being dangled in front of him.

"But…but Kanan whenever Zeb and I have asked you along you just wave us off. No offense or anything but I always thought that you genuinely hated fishing so why are we…?"

'Because my need to see you smile outweighs what amounts to a minor minor task loathing.' Kanan snorts in reply before answering, "I like 'fishing' just fine Kid. In my experience though, that's not what Zeb actually does when he goes down by the river. He chases around his prey with sharp sticks, yells too much and usually ends up soaking us both to the skin."

"Hey! Lasat spear fishing is *cultural*." Ezra shoots back indignantly. "And works better when you're working in shallow waters then a pole usually does…they do something a lot like it in some areas of Lothol too, where regular fishing lines would only get caught up or broken …."

"I'm just saying I have no objection to the fishing at all, Ezra, when the people engaged in it with me are *quiet.*"

"Understood." Ezra responds with what Kanan can clearly hear is a broad grin.

Force but right now the Kid's force signature is literally radiating his excitement. Zeb had not been understating the situation. His Padawan really does love to fish apparently. Though how he picked up the skill is a question that leaves Kanan more than a little bit curious, as Ezra's tower had been too far for a single days walk to and from the coast as far as Kanan remembers.

Ezra meanwhile, has finally continued speaking "So like then does Rex have poles that we're going to be able to use? Or are we going to need to make some while we're out there with some found sticks and fishing twine? Because my dad…" He pauses, nearly tripping over the words, "Back when I was little my dad spent nearly a whole summer of Saturday mornings with me fishing. If we need poles then I know exactly how to make them - as well as how to bait for almost anything. My mom used to effectively call it our regular 'weekly male bonding' session."

Oh. OH. Well, that explains any number of things. Including Zeb's repeated attempts over the past year or so to encourage Kanan to come down to the river with them 'just one damn time you stubborn hardhead - even if just to sit around with us and enjoy the 'medatative ambience'.

The Lasat had *known* Kanan's Padawan used to go fishing with his Dad - probably because Ezra had told him about it, and he's been trying to clue Kanan in on the opportunity to bond with the kid while helping him preserve his memories literally ever since. Kanan had wondered why the Lasat, who was generally pretty good at shrugging off his disinterest at offered activities most of the time, had kept pushing the idea over and over and over again.

'Look…I know you ain't lookin' try and replace his father, Kanan.." The older male had said to him once, "And truthfully you couldn't even if you wanted to. But life's like a broken transport sometimes, for lack of a better analogy. Especially when it comes to dealing with orphaned or otherwise abandoned kids. Everybody might have liked a transport just as it was initially, yeah, but when an axle snaps during an accident or auto grav generator fails on a barelly scraped up model, well then *someone* out there better man up and weld on a karking replacemen, and fast. Or an otherwise completely repairable, *beautiful* ship is gonna wind up on the top of the scrap heap - and Karabast if that's anything but a waste in my eyes. "

It's such a simple truth - such an obvious analogy once the point behind it fully clicks. Kanan kind of wants to beat his head against the wall of the bunk directly behind him over how long it's taken him so long to fully grasp what the Lasat had been trying to get at. Why is he always so fast to get caught up in the petty details of his own life and yet so slow to notice the supernovas of truth literally flaring to life at his feet?

'Can't change the past, Jarrus, you can only change what you do from this moment.' He reaches out to take Ezra's shoulder and squeeze it in a firm grip, smiling genuinely, making sure to meet his Padawan's enthusiasm with an equal measure of both teasing and encouragement. "I don't what Rex's going to be packing, Ezra, you'll have to ask him when we meet up. I imagine he'll likely have a variety of options considering the nature of the job, but even if I'm wrong and we end up having to rig a couple of different options up, that's more than fine with me. I enjoy the chance to build things with my hands and see how they work, and I would love to see what your Dad showed you regarding the subject of fishing as opposed to my Grandmaster. In fact, I'll even make you a bet for fun if you like - we'll compare what we've learned, over the duration of our time up north, and at the end the one of us with the biggest catch at the end of the trip gets to pick the set of katas we work on next week, agreed? " he pauses expectant, "So? What do you think?"

Ezra literally beams at that. Both in his force aura and in the real world, presumably. "I think it's a great idea, Kanan. Though for the record, you, Master mine, are about to be dead meat."

Kanan snorts "Well I can tell someone's getting cocky."

Ezra raspberries. Literally actually raspberries. "No just preparing you for the reality. Because there is no way in Sith hells that you are going to out fish me."

Probably so, but at this point Kanan's pretty sure he doesn't much mind the sacrifice. "We shall see, Junior. We shall see. In the meantime, though - you mind taking the dishes back to the kitchen for me?"

"Not at all." Ezra reaches out to start stacking them.

"Then do so, Mr Overconfidant and when you get back we'll pack and hopefully do some meditation before the agreed check in call to Rex."

"Sir, yes sir!" Ezra replies saluting, and heads out cheerfully.

xxxxxx

Chapter 3: Ezra

(In which puddles and family fights are every kids sworn natural enemy.)

This is what little of 'his fall' that Ezra remembers:

One moment he was dead, and the second he just...wasn't. The world was bright when he woke, and light sliced across painfully overstimulated senses. It bound up the breath in his chest and set all his nerves - which felt made new - to agonized howling.

His mind had been too big in that instant – somehow changed, somehow made entirely different, and his body had felt shrunken and tight around him, as if he had somehow been compressed down into the wrong size of skin. Indeed the only thing at all that hadn't felt out of place in that moment had been the sound of his own breathing and heartbeat, and then after that the bright strand of light pulsing painfully in one of the corners of his mind. That light which he just knew instinctively: that light which was his master, that light which was *Kanan.*

He'd known, without really knowing why, that the other man was in agony.

Reaching out for what he'd later realize had been the still fraying ends of their newly severed bond, and pouring all he was into connection to try and ease the pain, hadn't been instinct on his part exactly so much as raw desperation. But the effect had still been immediate and more than a little bit electrifying.

First there had been shock from Kanan in response, and then confusion and joy – boundless as the vastness of space itself - rising and sweeping like a tsunami of healing back toward him through the link, the man's sheer ecstatic relief cementing bits and pieces of each of them that had shattered back in their proper place almost effortlessly. Ezra is pretty sure by that point he'd been physically crying.

And Kanan Jarrus - Jedi Knight, protector, beloved master, dearest of friends – had clung to Ezra through the link, alternating between swearing, laughing and crying as he did so, until their hosts had necessarily willed an exhausted Ezra to 'Sleep' with the promise that when he woke both he and Kanan would see each other again.

That is the only part of his time after the fall that Ezra remembers clearly, until many hours later when he'd woken small, sore and wrapped in a scratchy woolen blanket. Hera had been stroking his hair, and he'd been cradled like a baby in Kanan's wide lap. It had been more than a day after that before either of them had been able to stop circling back around and around periodically to visually check on or touch him.

They've both gotten better about not being so clingy since. Hera hasn't been around to more than to chat occasionally and pat his shoulder in late at night or early in the morning since. Ezra understands that she's busy, but something about her frequent absences and the slightly off key smile that she plasters across her face every time she sees him coming these makes something tug in his gut a little queasily. After all of his years on the street he knows the feel of an adult who's anxious to have him out of their presence.

Kanan on the other hand, is always nearby since they got home, always monitoring. Not hovering or crowding Ezra with his presence, just there in a way that is both odd and fundamentally reassuring.

Ezra has to remind himself, over and over again as the days drag on, that he's too damn old to want to go climb back into his Master's lap.

xxxx
This is what Ezra knows : one moment he's in the kitchen, sliding across the floor in his sock covered feet, intent on delivering the dishes from their breakfast into the sink so he can return to his room and help Kanan begin the process of packing for their journey with Rex. He feels almost giddy with his mind full of fishing and his stomach finally full of something approaching a decent morning breakfast...

Which is precisely when he skids, unseeing, right into a shallow standing pool water and then he's airborne, for several heart stopping seconds, and then he's landing, after striking the back of his head.

The next thing that Ezra Bridger is aware of, he's on his side on the floor, his face wet and his eyes staring blankly up at cupboard directly in front of him. His head is throbbing, and his whole mind feels clouded and somehow oddly sticky. Off somewhere to the right, Sabine is hollering at the top of her lungs for someone's assistance, though his brain can't quite work well enough to make sense of her words as meaning as well as in context. He winces at the sound: Karabast but Sabine is *so loud* when she screams. Could she maybe, like, turn the volume down at least a little bit? His eyelids slide shut against the brightness as he simultaneous flops over onto his back.

"Kanan! Zeb! Someone! I need help in here. Kanan! Ezra! Come on and open up your eyes, Bridger. Ezra can you hear me? Kanan, get in here now! Ezra! Zeb please kriffing hurry! Ezra, can you hear me? Open your eyes, please sweetheart and kriffing look at me. "

Ezra's distantly aware of the smell of blood, and that now the back of his pants are shirt are both soaking wet as well as his stocking feet. Kark: with what speeder exactly did he decide to play chicken? And how did it get in the kitchen? He hears a sniffle to the right of him.

He licks his lips, forcing a single word out of a pair of dry lips that feel a million miles away in distance as he forces his eyelid open. "Sabine." He forces a weak smile. "I'mmma all right, don't worry."

"Ezra. Thank the little Gods! You're doing great. Come on now, keep your eyes okay, and see if you can shift them look at me. That's right. You're doing great." On the bright side, at least Sabine is no longer so lost to sheer panic that she's bellowing. On the other, Force she looks scared to death at the moment.

He wiggles his fingers cautiously where he lays, then his toes, trying to physically assess his condition. His head throbs – probably from a concussion in progress, but nothing else he can feel seems particularly broken. Ohhhhhhhboy is he going to be sore in a few hours though - he can already feel the warmth of bruises forming. When he finally shifts his eyes to look more directly at Sabine the light just behind her bent head makes him want to puke in protest.

"Are…are the dishes okay?" He licks his lips, trying for another sentence. He really hopes they aren't broken. They'd been a present for her birthday from him and Zeb and he knows that the ceramics are Hera's favorite set."

Sabine's hand wraps around his own palm now, and she's squeezing it tightly, halfway between laughing and crying. "Ezra no one in the whole world gives a kriff right now whether you broke Hera's dishes. Just stay with me, and do not go to sleep!"

Then Zeb and Kanan both are skidding into the kitchen before he can form a coherrent reply, Kanan pale and breathing hard even as he drops to his knees right in the middle of the small pool water Ezra's lying in . Kark - why's the stuff all of a sudden gone from clear to bright pink?

Karabast! What in karking hell happened?!" Zeb's question comes out as a literal bellow from the door, and Ezra groans at the too sharp sound, because seriously, does *no one* in this room but him grasp the concept of 'silence?'"

Hey Big guy, could you please keep it *down?!"

Then he licks his lips and reaches out to try and pat Kanan's arm. "I'm fine, Kanan, really, I promise. I'm … I just hit some water when I was loaded down with our dishes and then I guess I just slipped."

"You fish tailed right through standing water and went ass over elbows, you mean!" And Force dammit Sabine but that tone is really not helping!

Kanan is trying to check his basic vitals. Seeking out his pulse at his carotid, placing a hand on his sternum to assess his carotid. His face is calm. But his mind...Kriff the hurricane he's locking away in his head at the moment. Just the feeling of his turmoil slams Ezra's eyes shut in pure self defense.

"Ezra." Kanan's voice is measured when he speaks, "Ezra I need you to open your eyes if they're not that way already. And then I need you to look at Sabine so she can check your pupils for me all right. Ezra I need you to verbally confirm if you can speak that you can still understand me."

Of course Ezra understands, he's been an active part of the kriffing conversation ever since Kanan first arrived hasn't he?

"Should I run and get one of the medics from over at the complex?" Now it's Zeb's turn to speak. His tone is anxious.

"It certainly wouldn't hurt. Head wounds bleed a lot but I'm more worried about possible concussion as the moment. This floor is almost as hard as ceramicrete. Go alert a medic and then get Hera back here as fast as you possibly can. Let her know what's happened, even if that means that you have to pull her out her meeting."

"Kriff," Ezra mutters. "She's gonna be pissed about that." Stupid water. Stupid slippery floor. Stupid him in the galley with only socks on his feet.

"She's going to be worried, Ezra, not mad. Zeb go ahead and get moving."

"On it Boss." Then there are footfalls falling away. Most likely Zen doing as Kanan suggested. "We need you to open your eyes, Ezra. " Kanan says it prompts him gently again.

Kriff but Ezra's dizzy right now, and growing nauseous. "I'm working on it," He finally manages. "Brain's having a little bit of trouble delivering messages at the moment."

"Well make it work harder already!" Sabine's voice snaps out – her voice simultaneously wobbly and angry, "Honestly Bridger, I've seen people show more grit after losing one of their limbs."

Ezra opens his mouth to retort, something clever or flippant or snarky to diffuse her tension, but then Kanan cuts him off with a thunderous bellow. "For Force Sake! DO NOT START THAT KRIFF WITH HIM RIGHT NOW, SABINE!"

And woah golly does *that* do the trick in terms getting his eyes open. Hello there world and my old friend adrenaline. He hadn't realized his master could literally feel like striking lightening - his protective rage at the words literally sheering into Ezra's own mind through their link.

At least his eye are open now - which hopefully has got count for something. Kanan is kneeling on the floor next to him on the right, while Sabine crouches down on his left, her eyes wide with shock at Kanan's reaction. She's literally gaping at him. Ezra's hand stretches out, wraps around Kanan's forearm, trying to yank Kanan's focus away from her and center it back on the less dangerous him. "I'm fine Kanan. It's going to be fine. She's…just venting steam at the moment. Like we all do sometimes.. Granted I'd generally prefer that she didn't do it in a way that makes me feel quite so much like Banthashit. But whatever works right now. It's not like I'm not currently pint sized for convenient kicking."

Kanan draws in a deep shaky breath while Sabine just stares at him, stricken. Ezra laughs, shakily, for both of their sakes. "It was a *joke* guys, okay. Just go with it for the moment."

Then his master's mind is calm again and Ezra's hand is being gripped tightly between both of Kanan's own. "We're all right Ezra. We're going to be just fine, I promise. Sabine assuming his eyes are open again I need you to check his pupils – are they fixed, uneven, dilated? How's his color look? Can you estimate his possible blood loss and time unconscious for me?"

She leans forward to check his eyes. "He's got normal pupils right now. He's definitely pale but not ashen." She breathes out, raggedly. "There's a fair amount of blood on the floor from when he hit his head, but with the water on the floor the amount's exaggerated...it's hard to tell how much he's lost so far exactly."

"Ezra you hit you head?"

He nods a little, than regrets it as the room spins. "Yeah, I did on the back left side I think."

"Did you twist funny when you went down? Did you have to roll to get onto you back? Do you have full sensation as far as you can tell in your fingers and toes? I'm a little worried about moving you but at the same time I really want to get you upright enough so I can check on the status of your head."

Ezra licks his dry lips, "Everything feels fine," He murmurs, wiggling his fingers and toes again, rotating his neck from one side to the other and then pushing himself up gradually in a half reclined on his arms sitting position. "I'm pretty sure I just smacked myself really good upside the head, Kanan. Nothing new about that. It's not like I can't spare the brain cells to or anything."

Sabine makes another harsh sound, this one somewhere between a whimper and a laugh. "Kriff Ezra, enough with the dark jokes and the sarcasm."

But then I wouldn't be *me.*" Ezra closes his eyes and breathes deeply for another moment or two, then pushes himself upright still just a little bit further, swaying as a wave of vertigo hints him. "Can I get a towel, or something to help clean up the back of my head? Feels really gross right now." Judging by the increasing stickiness running down the back of his neck now that he's mostly upright, he's probably still bleeding pretty steadily from where he bashed himself in the skull. The edges of his vision start blurring after a moment or two, and he shifts his gaze toward anxiously toward his master, whose arm's supporting his lower back at the moment. "I...I'm pretty dizzy right now, Kanan. Don't know how much longer I'm going to be able stay upright like this without tipping over to the side..."

"I've got you. Sabine, can you brace him for just a moment please?"

The Mandalorian nods. There's some shifting around, a couple of low sounds from both Ezra and Kanan, as Sabine eases him first slightly forward then backwards again, and then Kanan's sitting behind him instead of beside, and yeah, that's definitely better. Kanan's kind of huge and feels way too tall these days to be a really comfortable chair back for someone of his current size, but at least now Ezra's no longer worried about listing one way or another shoudl he suffer another round of vertigo.

"Are you still dizzy or nauseous?"

"Mmmhmmm. That would be a definite yes."

Gentle fingers are prodding along the back of his scalp now - carefully but steadily assessing – until Kanan locates Ezra's head wound. The pressure of the other man's touch is intentionally light but Ezra can't stop himself from flinching in pain at the contact of fingers to torn skin. Kanan's voice is sober as he maps the size and depth of the gash. "Yup, you're definitely going to need both bacta and stitches."

"Well kriff." Ezra grumbles. This day officially bites it. This better not mean that they don't get to fish.

"Karabast. Hera's going to kill me." Sabine mutters, hand flapping a little in sheer agitation. Behind Ezra, where he's still providing support for the moment, Kanan's whole body stiffens at the comment.

Ezra's brow wrinkles in confusion, "Wasn't your fault, Sabine. Like I said I just slipped. I should have been wearing shoes. As it was I was in a hurry and wasn't paying enough attention to the state of the floor of the kitchen."

But Sabine shakes her head, eyes wide with regret and clear agitation. "I'm sorry Ezra, I spilled some water while…while I was cleaning off some of my brushes about half an hour ago in the middle of working on a painting. I was going to come back and clean the mess up as soon as I dropped the supplies back in my rooms up but then I got distracted by a call from Hobbie and I just…"

Behind Ezra, Kanan growls, actually growls "How many times are you, me and Hera going to have to talk about this, Sabine?!"

Ezra coughs, a little alarmed by the way things are suddenly escalating "Kanan, she… it was an accident okay? I should have been paying attention..."

"No, it *wasn't* an accident." Kanan snaps back. "Not when this is the third time something like this has happened since she first came aboard." He scowls at Sabine over Ezra's shoulder, "It wasn't an accident. You were just being careless. And now he's gotten hurt because of it- after all the kriff you've been given him lately about his being reckless and selfish."

"I'm sorry." Sabine all but cries out, completely horrified by the whole situation. "It's been literal *years* since I forgot to clean up last time, Kanan. I didn't know that he'd be coming back into the kitchen so soon! You..you'd promised me that you'd be tracking him down and talking to him immediately after breakfast."

"Which is beside the point completely. Do not try and divert the blame here, Sabine! You are not a child, and this wasn't a minor faux pau like it's been before...this isn't Hera's slightly turned ankle or my couple mild bruises. Ezra's going to need multiple stiches. He probably has a concussion right now Sabine!"

"Guys - it's fine...!

"I..." With each sentence Kanan's form is getting tauter, Sabine is getting paler and Ezra can literally feel the anger and guilt rising up like twin tsunami waves about to sweep over and devestate all three of them. " I'm all right. It'll heal. Just stop fighting. *Please.*"

Then suddenly there's a new voice as indignation and a sharp wave of pure *disgust* is added to the rippling currents . And Ezra's pounding head, and ever roiling stomach has simply had enough.

Ezra turns to his left side and simplu vomits. Despite his best efforts to prevent it, some small amount of his previous breakfast hits both he and Kanan's pants legs in the process. Karabast. "I'm sorry." He babbles, "Kriff I'm so karking sorry."

And just like that, the whole room goes utterly silent.

Then there's a low, furious snarl of epithet in Ryl, and before Ezra can say anything more , Hera's striding forward, her mind radiating disgust and anger as she reaches down to scoop him up and out of Kanan's grip without preamble. "Go and cool off, guys. BOTH of you. Before you make this any worse than it already is. I've got him."

"No!" Ezra cries out, backing into Kanan instinctively, irrationally panicked – this was not what he asked for: he wants Kanan to stop yelling at Sabine, yes. But that doesn't mean he wants to be up and abandoned into the keeping of someone who's radiating disgust just from looking down at him. He wants Kanan to stay. Force, if Kanan doesn't stay for the moment at least he may, in fact, completely flip his lid. "Kanan stays. I don't want him to go."

"…Ezra." Hera's voice is odd, different - low and much softer than it was just a minute before. She's practically frozen in place where she stands, half crouched down in front of him, hands still extended in preparation to lift him up and away. His hands clench into the fabric of Kanan's pants legs, instinctively.

And just like that her hands fall and she steps back and away. "Kanan - what the Kriff?" There's a queer combination of shock, hurt and regret in her eyes as she studies him. Then her eyes shift to look over his neares shoulder, where Kanan has also started speaking.

"Ezra. It's okay, kiddo. You're fine…Hera just wants to help…"

"NO!" And Force he sounds desperate. Like he's forgotten how to breathe right or something. It this what it sounds like when someone is hyperventilating?

Arms tighten around him from behind, "I'm not going anywhere, Kid. Ezra, calm down, you're safe. You're fine do you here me. I'm here and it's going to be fine."

It's at that precise moment, shaking with adrenaline and pain both that he finally consciously realizes there's something very, very wrong with his usual shielding.

It's less than it should be right now, not enough for all that he's trying to keep it impermeable, and Force but he hurts. He's picking up on *everything* at the moment whether he wants to or not: everyone's anger, their guilt, their fear, and it's just too much on top of his own hurricane spin of emotion. It's too strong, too sharp, it's too wild to handle all at once.

"What…?" He gasps out, eyes slamming shut, hands coming up to press on the sides of his head desperately keening, "Karabast what is happening to me?" A trickle of moisture runs down and over his lip, before increasing into to a small stream. Hera curses in shock, reaching out to gently touch his face. When her hand pulls back, it's literally coated in bright red … It takes Ezra a dizzy, detached sort of moment to realize that he must be having some kind of major nose bleed.

"Hera?" Kanan's voice is tight when he speaks from behind him. He's clearly asking for more information.

"He…Kanan, his nose just started gushing blood all of sudden."

There's a pause of about half a second after that, before his master starts cursing softly under his breath. Then careful hands shift Ezra's body ninety degrees, shifting him down to rest with his head in the crook of Kanan's left elbow - his body in a basically cradled position much like an oversized infant - as Kanan's fingers go directly to his forehead, the older Jedi's mind reaching directly for his. "Sith spit." Kanan curses, "The concussion's just effectively crashed the last his shielding."

Ezra whimpers at the feel of the other man's frustration tangled up in his words, jerks at Hera's corresponding flash of near panic, and Kanan grimaces lips thining. "I'm so sorry Ezra. I've got it covered okay - just hold on another minute, Kid..." Then there's another sensation - this one subtle and soothing - a lot like a warm wind of calm and reassurance sweeping through his mind even as something snaps up bulwark strong around the both of them, and all the overflows of everyone else's emotion he felt before are suddenly simply gone, the flood shut off like the handle of a streaming water faucet.

"Oh thank kriff." Ezra's whipcord tight body shudders once then drops back almost bonelessly into Kanan's lap.

"Kanan!" Hera's voice is even more alarmed. She's got a soft cloth pressed fully against his nose now, and is trying to mop up the mess on the lower half of his chin with a washcloth Sabine has supplied her. "Is he…"

"He's fine. He just busted, well, an empathic fuse, basically. I'm pretty sure he has a concussion right now as just said, on top of him having some ongoing issues the last two weeks with his mentalshielding."

"He's had what?!" Sabine squeaks out the question breathlessly. "You could have warned us about that, Kanan!

"Why - because it's required for you to know that he's even more vulnerable than you already though before you're willing to uncap your damn karking pool empathy? I wasn't hiding anything, okay? It's something I only just figured out myself earlier when we were talking this morning."

Ezra's eyes pop open, this time him glare is accompanied by a fierce scowl. "Oh come on you guys. Can you just *not* for awhile until you like, you know, actually treated or drugged me? Can the smackdown occur please after I'm finally asleep?"

Hera stares at Kanan then – for a long hypercritical moment, before she looks over her own shoulder at Sabine and jerks her head toward the exit door. "Why don't you give us some space for awhile, okay? I'll come find you once Ezra's been treated and update you on the situation. "

The Mandalorian simply nods, avoiding Kanan's gaze as Ezra watches her, and flees.

Then Hera's eyes are back on him again, and Ezra tries to force a genuine smile for her, because she doesn't look all that much better than Sabine had earlier really - she's pale and confused and alarmed - and at the world's not so painful anymore - which should count for something in terms of providing reassurance.

Hera hardly seems to notice that she has his gaze at all, though. Instead her voice is low, as she speaks directly to Kanan, "We still need to get him to med bay to deal with his scalp wound. And I want to send for one of the medics, just as a precaution. Are you okay to lift him on your own Kanan, or do you want me to take him so you can go and get into something dry and clean before we treat him?"

Ezra's body stiffens at the words again for reason's he can't exactly make sense of himself, but Kanan only shakes his head without even glancing down. "No. We're fine for the moment. Let's get him to medbay. I already sent Zeb to get help when we found him a couple of minutes ago. I take it he didn't find you before that pull you out of your meeting?"

Hera shakes her head. "I specifically asked them to move a few things around this morning so I could make it back for lunch. I wanted some one on one time with with Sabine. She's having some issues at the moment."

Kanan nods. "She'd probably have liked. So Medbay then. Do we have all the gear right now that's needed for stitches?"

"Assuming they use the same needle and thread sizes for children, yeah, we should. All right. Be careful when you get up, Kanan– blood and water are both all over the floor and it's slippery as a result."

"I know." Kanan informs her softly "I could smell the blood in here the first moment that I came in…Sabine was screaming bloody murder too. The Kid scared the hell out of me."

Ezra wets his lips at that, "Sorry, Master."

" It's not your fault Kiddo."

"...Also isn't Sabine's"

"We're going to have to agree to disagree on that one Ezra, but don;t worry about it for the moment." A broad hand strokes the hair on his forehead once, lightly, and then his master is shifting his grip again, reaching an arm under Ezra's small shoulders and another under his knees before exhaling slowly and rising up to his feet. Ezra looks out at the world from this new perspective for a moment, then closes his eyes against the vertigo the change in positioning brings.

"Force but you're tall." He complains, "It's like being carried around by a tree."

Hera chuckles softly, but Kanan's voice is warm and stern as he answers. "Oh no, you don't, Kid. Eyes open - you are not allowed to sleep yet. No flirting with the sandman until we get your head all stitched up and the doctor checks you over at least."

"Kay." Ezra, answers, mussily. It takes a few moments effort, but he does get his eye open again, then he winces, ashamed as the smell of blood and human sick assails his nose again, "Sorry about the blood and the vomit thats now on your pants, Kanan…"

His master shrugs, causing Ezra to raize and then fall slightly. "It happens, Ezra. I can just wash them later. Don't worry about it anymore for the time being. Besides it's not like I'm the only one who's going to have to clean up. You're just as much of a mess right now as I am."

"Good. I hate this shirt. Velociraptors should not be wearing cowboy boots and bandanas. It's stupid. For that matter most kids clothes these days are." Force his eyes feel so heavy.

"If you hate it that much then why are you wearing it, Ezra?" Hera asks him a little curiously, having fallen into step beside him and Kanan as they walk, her boots matching Kanan's own trod on the floor almost perfectly.

Ezra shrugs, "Well I c an't exactly run around naked, can I? All two other shirts which I have that don't drown me at the moment were still in the fresher when I woke up. They're all stupid yes, but I don't exactly have the leewat to be choosy."

Hera reaches out and squeezes Ezra nearer forearm briefly. "I'm sorry, Ezra…you kind of have been left with the short end of the stick last last week or so haven't you? I really meant to plan a market run as soon as we reported back in on the siituation at Yavin, but then officers from around the base offered me a few bags of their kid's old hand me downs and I didn't stop and think how you might feel about having to just live with other people's random cast offs. We'll try and find some stuff more to your taste, on our next supply run, I promise. No more living with cowboy dinosaur t-shirts as your only real option."

Ezra nods, "And plain shoes - not ones with holovid characters on them. Especially not from bad cartoons. Do I LOOK like the kind of kid who would voluntarily watch something called Red, Rose and Rover? Just no…" He wrinkles his nose as both adults chuckle and Ezra pokes Kanan in the chest very grumpily. "Yeah laugh it up you overly heighted gifted asshole, but I'm telling you from my perspective, it funny at all anymore after the ninth day in a row of having to deal with it." .

There's a moment of silence, then Kanan's arms tighten around him just slightly, as Hera speaks at the same time. "I hear you. And we'll take care of it I promise. In the meantime we're almost there You're doing great, " Kanan murmurs, "Just a little bit longer okay." Then a moment after that, "Also, watch your kriffing language."

Ezra's head lulls to the side at that, a little smile tilting his lips as he finally acknowledges at least a little bit of the humor of his present situation. "Oh well, at least my underwear right now is all black and not covered in speeders or something, because there'd definitely be a joke to be made if they were, but not one that wouldn't get me grounded indefinitely."

Kanan snorts, while Hera keys open the door to the medlab, "Take him over to the table, Kanan,– get him out of those wet, bloody clothes and swaddle him up in a blanket or something. I'll get some warm soap and water so we can wash the blood out of his hair, and then while you get to work on that I'll get you both some clothes that you can change into once you're through."

"Or I can just clean up in the med shower." Ezra suggests, "It'd be faster and way less messy to clean up then trying to wipe up via towels or sponge bath."

Kanan snorts behind him, as he sets Ezra down with his legs dangling over the edge of treatment table "Sure it would be, Kid, in other circumstances, anyway Like if you were currently capable of, oh I don't know, actually standing."

"Hey - I can stand up just fine on my own, thank you very much." Ezra grumps, and tries to demonstrate in order to prove it, only to discover that the moment that his weight lands on both of his feet, he wobbles precariously. Only Kanan's quick hands keep him from toppling over and netting himself yet another concussion.

"Just be still, Ezra, I've got things covered for now. We're good." Kanan informs him, once again depositing him on the exam bed. Then gentle but efficient hands begin to methodically strip him out of his blood and water soaked clothing, lifting his shirt carefully over his scalp wound and averting his eyes as Ezra wiggles out of his pants and underwear quickly, before enfolding his entire body inside a warm checkered blanket. "Now let's see about cleaning up the blood on your hair as best as we can."

It only takes another minute or so after that for Hera to return, the Twilek pilot wheeling in a basin of faintly steaming water on a cart as well as clothing changes for both himself and Kanan . Ezra smiles at her warmly as she comes through the door. "Thank you, for literally helping cover my ass at the moment. " He smirks at his own joke even as Hera rolls her eyes in response, then he turns toward Kanan glaring, poking a finger into his chest. "Hera can help with that for now. Go - get cleaned up yourse;f and then come back and stitch up my head once she's done, because don't think for a moment that this gets you out of our fishing trip. Because it does not. A tiny little head wound is not going to stop me from kicking your ass at our bet."

"Ezra.." Kanan hesitates, clearly concerned at the suggestion that this fall should somehow not change their plans, only to have his nose nearly poked by the tiny pointer finger of an emphatically waving hand.

"Fish. Ing. Kanan. We are going fishing. Like you promised. If in worst case scenario, I do have a *minor* concussion, well then we're using poles, not spears or nets, aren't we? So it won't be a problem. I'll just nap on the shore on a blanket when not demonstrating my utterly obvious skills in terms of piscine dominance. This," He points at his head, "Isn't bad enough you need to cancel our mission."

"Kanan, what on earth is he talking about?" Hera's voice chimes in then, from the side her voice somewhere between confused and indignant.

Ezra turns to face her, voiceand face alight with sheer glee. "Kanan and I have a rebellion related assignment all of our own, Hera. We're capturing and assessing local water based protein sources. With Rex. "

"Oh are you *really?*" She crosses her arms, looking over at Kanan, very *very* deliberately.

Which is the exact minute that the Medic from the base's larger medical facility comes through the door with a fast moving Zeb at her heels . Much to Kanan Jarrus' sincere, *immediate* relief.