(This is my only real knowledge of the Star Wars universe, so I apologize for inaccuracy. Before or after reading this, please try to find the short story, "Another Place, Another Time". It's a beautiful story in my opinion, and I feel that it ties in well with both this fanfiction and also with some elements of the TV show. I literally saw Gilbert as Ezra. Also, please listen to "Children Will Listen" from the Into The Woods soundtrack. I own nothing.)

Ezra hated memories. He did appreciate Sabine giving him the holodisk with his parent's picture on it, but it only brought back what he was trying to push away. It felt nice to have someone care about him, to think of giving him back a piece of his past. This was his first birthday gift in eight years. On the streets, no one bothered to ask for your name or your story. Everyone assumed you were a bad person, that your parents didn't want you. Even the nice people gave you a wary smile, maybe a fruit if they were generous, and moved on with their life and their menial struggles. Ezra smiled a rueful smile. He remembered how being on the streets felt both free and restricting at the same time, how he had no rules but also had no food. He remembered all the lessons and the skills he had learned over time, the scars he had earned. This image brought mixed feelings as well as mixed memories. Memories of his mother stroking his hair when he was young. It brought back the color of his father's eyes, almost exactly his own bright blue. The holodisk also brought memories of the day they were taken. He could hear the footsteps, the sound of vases and chairs crashing to the ground under the Empire's disregard for privacy. He could hear the last thing his father said, clear as day,

"Run!"

Ezra clenched his fists, his nails digging into the fabric of his gloves. He looked out into space, trying to imagine a dimension where his parents were alive. All Ezra wanted to do was run away from his past, but he knew he couldn't. People were out there, in worse conditions than even he had been on the streets. He used to think for himself, but after being given a chance to be free and have food and fight for the good of the people, he couldn't. He understood what it was like to be dirt poor, to take odd jobs from questionable people in questionable alleys to stay alive; he knew that didn't make you a bad person. Ezra knew what it was like to skip several meals and live in bad places. He now knew that he could use that to help people who are just like he was. The things his parents had ingrained in his mind had been brought back over time. He suddenly remembered honor and bravery, sacrifice and love. Ezra had tried to bury it. Ezra had tried to rid himself of the person that disregarded his safety for the well-being of others. On the streets, however, he had still found the ghost of that Ezra in alleys and dark corners. Children younger and thinner and more innocent than him were often given the food he had stolen from others.

On the Ghost, he'd found that old self looking back at him in the mirror. Now his reflection stared back at him in the window, with the wavering image of his parents still behind him. Light and shadows from the swirling world of hyperspace cast odd shapes on his tan face, the light reflecting in his eyes. Ezra used to think his parents would come back. Then he thought they were taken, and sometimes he thought they were dead. He only knew that his parents weren't with him. Ezra may never know the truth. The truth was a conflicting thing when you didn't know what it was. You could tamper with it, and it could tamper with you. Maybe with Jedi training, Ezra would come to peace with that. Platitudes Kanan drilled into his head could make him realize that maybe he had become a better person with loss, that maybe the Force had destined him for great things he couldn't do if his parents were by his side his whole life. There is serenity. Part of an old lesson in Jedi philosophy came back to him. Someday, Ezra hoped he could find that serenity. Maybe he would find it out in the stars, in the eternal abyss of hyperspace. Maybe he would find it in the calming darkness of meditation. Time would take him up in its ever twisting, winding path, and it would take him to serenity if he traveled with it.

Kanan opened the door and stepped into the quiet room, breaking Ezra's near-meditative state. Ezra was glad for the distraction. He was starting to scare himself. The day he understood philosophy was the day he would go crazy. Kanan stepped in front of the image of Ezra's parents, staring at it for a long moment before turning it off. Ezra didn't protest. Time couldn't take him to serenity if he kept looking back on it. Kanan rested his hands on the back of Ezra's chair, gently turning it until Ezra was looking into the face of his master.

"Isn't it beautiful? All light and dark, melding together?" Kanan stared out into space, where lights were still flying by. Ezra had a feeling Kanan didn't mean hyperspace, however. Ezra shrugged, giving a small smile. "Don't look out there too long. You can get lost sometimes." Kanan's eyes drifted out into space as well, watching the light fly past their reflections. His master's words echoed in Ezra's mind, his thoughtful, caring tone mimicking that of a loving father's. Ezra didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Right now, he wanted silence; he wanted to drown the sound of his thoughts. Ezra found it horribly ironic that his birthday was one of his worst days in life. Ezra let out a sigh.

"Sometimes, being lost is better than being found by your nightmares." Kanan let out an airy chuckle, a mix between a sigh and a laugh.

"Don't get ahead of me just yet. I've got plenty of Jedi philosophy to teach you." Kanan's green eyes glimmered, slicing through the shadows.

"But do you understand it?" Ezra couldn't wrap his mind around most of it. Jedi were far too wise for their own good.

"Following doesn't always mean understanding." Ezra resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Kanan's sage advice always held a bit of rebellious humor in it. Kanan wasn't the average Jedi. He was rough around the edges. He had imperfections that made him perfect for Ezra. Kanan was like a perfect balance of dark mystery and light humor and pure goodness. He was a balance. He was the Force. He was a calming presence with his own quirks that helped just as much as he needed help. He could be tamed, yet could not be controlled. He was a weapon of peace. He was an ambassador of freedom. Ezra wouldn't want anyone else to teach him. They would learn together. Ezra could tell Kanan had a past that was holding him back, just like Ezra's. Perhaps they could help each other let go.