A/N Super sorry for such a long wait. This one was a pain to write. (started over about three times) I hope you like it.
Kanan said that the trip to Tatooine would be a fast and easy trip. Make sure that a certain family was still alive, then leave to report. A mission specifically detailed from Senator Bail Organa. They did not plan on getting trapped on Tatooine, unable to escape the treacherous planet. Nor did they plan on getting real close to the family that they were checking up on.
The mission started falling apart when vital pieces of the Ghost had been salvaged by the locals, rendering the ship useless. Hera had sent Kanan and Ezra out to get some of the parts they needed to get into the air while her, Zeb, Chopper, and Sabine protected the ship from additional thieves.
As they trudged through the desert, Ezra asked Kanan senseless questions to get his mind off the pain where his skin and his metal prosthetic met. If he got his mind off of it, then Kanan probably wouldn't notice that it was hurting. It wasn't helping that the sand was getting stuck in the little crevices, making the leg heavier as time went on. With the leg getting heavier with each step, it rubbed on his skin more, and with each passing moment made hiding the limp harder and harder. Ezra stumbled on the unstable terrain, falling to his knees.
Kanan stopped, worried for his Padawan. "Are you okay, Ezra?"
"I'm fine," Ezra said, struggling to stand. Everything was starting to hurt, the spot where his prosthetic met his skin burning like one of Sabine's bombs. He knew that it wasn't okay, but he was sick and tired of everyone worrying over him ever since they found out his prosthetic. Kanan and Zeb were really the only people who weren't treating him like he was broken, and he didn't ever want pity from Kanan. It wasn't like he could do anything for the pain, so there was no reason to speak of it. He looked at the desert surrounding them for a distraction. In the distance, he spotted something that didn't seem to fit in with the rocks and the sand. "What do you think that is, Kanan?" he asked, pointing to the white haze.
Kanan shaded his eyes, searching for what Ezra had spotted. "I can't see it, but lead the way."
Ezra trudged onwards, excited for a possibility of rest, and some water too. He could survive another day without water, but his body had already adjusted to getting a steady supply, so it would be more of a distraction than it used to be.
The two walked until the white haze turned into a small hut, where Kanan eagerly struck up with the couple that lived there. A boy around Ezra's age appeared in the door while Kanan and Ezra were drinking water in their kitchen.
"Who are they, Uncle Owen?" the boy asked, grabbing a cup and pouring himself a drink.
"How about you introduce yourself and find out, boy?" Uncle Owen replied.
The boy laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah sure." He turned to the two strange people in earnest. "Are you guys from off world? I'm Luke. Luke Skywalker. I want to be a Jedi like my father before me. What type of planets have you seen? Anything is better than this planet."
Kanan spluttered, choking on his water. He knew that last name, and he knew it well. Ezra stared at this strange boy who was so bold in his speech. Nobody he ever met spoke of the Jedi in such a conversational tone, even if the Empire wasn't breathing down their necks. "I'm Ezra, and this is Kanan," Ezra said, unsure of how to continue.
"We're travelers, and we've lost parts to our ship," Kanan said, "We're looking for a place to replace them. It would be wonderful if you could direct us to a place to get them."
The woman who was introduced as Aunt Beru nodded, shuffling around the kitchen. Ezra stared at her from the corner of his eye. He wondered for a split second if his mother would be as submissive as she seemed to be if she were alive today. He ducked his head. He could never see his mother act like this women even if she was forced. Before his eyes burned with tears, Kanan's hand was on his shoulder, a reassuring presence and a reminder to stay focused. A hand that promised space to think and meditate later. Ezra attempted to pay attention to what they were talking about, but he was too lost to make sense of anything, so he just sat there, accepting whatever was thrust into his hands and words that fell from Kanan's mouth.
Soon enough the conversation was over. Ezra was dragged to where he and Luke could have some fun. Considering it has been a long time that he has spent time with someone his own age that wasn't part of the Empire felt strange. The two boys had played with Luke's model ships, creating mock battles. This in itself was strange to Ezra, and a little boring. Real battles was where the fun began. He kept mouth shut and played the part of a regular teenager.
That was until Kanan had suggested for Ezra to hang out with Luke and his friends for the time being. He had sent the Padawan off with one warning: Don't tell anyone about being a Jedi.
Ezra laughed off the warning, but still took it to heart as he disappeared with Luke while Kanan talked to Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru about who knows what. For some reason, Ezra, Luke, and his friends ended up in the middle of nowhere playing a betting game with blasters.
"I bet that you can't shoot that green rock from here, Luke," one of the boys said. Luke only laughed, taking the blaster, setting up the sights, and blasting the rock out of its home among the others. The boys hooted and hollered, high on their sense of power. Ezra faked it, saddened that they didn't realize how stupid this all was. Luke was a somewhat decent shot, but the chosen rock wasn't really far enough away to show any semblance of skill handling a blaster. Ezra watched the game of bets and dares with a dulled interest, only participating when he felt the need to in order to not seem aloof to them. To make it seem like he actually cared, or that their games were actually entertaining. He realized that he wasn't doing a well enough job when they started to single him out.
"I bet that Ezra would cry if he punched him," a different boy said, finally bored with shooting rocks and wamp-rats, "he's so small, one punch would break every bone in his body."
The bigger boys agreed readily, anticipating a brawl. The new kid would have to prove himself, and shooting a blaster just wouldn't cut it.
Ezra knew what they were playing at, but Kanan had specified that Jedi stuff wasn't allowed, which basically amounted to no fighting. However, he knew that they wanted him to prove himself. Without a word, he took the blaster from Luke's hands. The laughter instantly stopped, the boys unsure of what Ezra was going to do.
Ezra made eye contact with every boy, thumbing the safety off of the blaster. It was such a practiced movement, he didn't even have to look. Compared to these boys, he was the master. Once he had broken eye contact with the last boy, he twirled the blaster in his hand, turning it on himself, and blasted his leg.
The boys watching all flinched as the blaster went off. The only boy who didn't was Ezra, who didn't move a muscle. The boys didn't notice this, and waiting for the new kid to fall in a shout of pain once they had recovered their senses. Ezra once again made eye contact with each boy before he handed the blaster to Luke, walking away as if he hadn't just shot himself in the leg.
He walked all the way back to Luke's house in silence. Luke had rushed to meet up with him, babbling about how amazing he was, and how are you still walking? Didn't that hurt? Ezra said nothing as he continued on his way. He sure hoped that when he shot his prosthetic, nothing important had broken. He had aimed to shoot the shielding, but the urge to make sure that it was still intact grew as the walk wore on. He could have missed, or the metal shielding was destroyed when he shot his leg. Especially since his leg was hurting him like when his arm or head hurt after Zeb threw him while fighting. Or when a force jump went wrong.
The two boys arrived at Luke's house just as the two suns set in the west. Kanan had waited for them, for which Ezra was grateful. Even though he wasn't limping, he knew that something was wrong with the leg. Something was always wrong, but this would probably need replacement parts. However, he knew that getting to those parts would be near impossible, so there was no need to voice his concerns. He would just have to fix it as well as he could before they went back to the rebellion to get some real parts. Now however, he sat down on the floor in a huff, leg flared in pain. Ripping away the burned fabric, he opened the panels into his leg, ripping out wires to get the pain to stop. Nothing was working, Ezra realized, curling up on the floor. This pain wasn't part of the machinery, which meant that nothing could be done. Ezra swore, even though the pain shouldn't be real, it was, and it hurt like a bantha fodder. "Karabast," Ezra muttered, hoping that no one would find him until it stopped.
As if life would give him a break. Ezra swore again when Luke walked in where Ezra was hiding. Luke cried out in joy, nearly throwing himself at Ezra's leg to get a better look. "You have a prosthetic? That's amazing. Where did you get it? What model? How did you get it? Why does it look like someone ate it?"
Ezra recoiled in horror. He was caught with his mind completely blank. Karabast. "What?"
"Do you need help fixing it? I got some tools and some parts from some droids that might make that heap of junk movable," Luke said, twisting the leg every which way, examining ever crevasse and torn wire. "It's not built for such high temperatures or sand. How are you still walking? This heap of junk shouldn't even be working at the moment. Ha. That's why you shot yourself and didn't fall. That's brilliant. I wish I had one of these. Not this though. This is a piece of trash."
Luke has the tools and the parts, Ezra realized. He took a deep breath. Goodbye dignity. "Think you can fix it? I don't have the parts to fix it."
Luke grinned, "Totally do."
Ezra mentally barfed. Putting on a winning smile he said, "I'd do anything for you to fix it."
Luke's grin turned into a whoop of joy. "I'll get my tools. Tell Aunt Beru that I'll be missing dinner."
Ezra stopped smiling. Missing dinner? Why? "How can I? I'll be here, and I'm not missing dinner."
"I could take it off so that you can eat—"
"—No." He was not crawling to dinner missing a leg. He could not stand to see the look that Kanan would give him.
"You did say that you would do anything," Luke said, pulling out the tools and parts that he needed.
Ezra groaned. Missing dinner it is. "I guess it's better to miss a meal than to never walk again."
Luke hummed in response, already absorbed in his work.
An hour had passed before Luke started up with a conversation with Ezra. They talked of frivolous things, leading up to the big question. "You never answered my question."
"Which one?" Ezra refused to acknowledge his growling stomach, or the feeling of Kanan searching for him.
"Why do you need a prosthetic in the first place?"
"I lost the leg."
"Duh. How did you lose it though? Did the rebels or the empire take it from you?" The leg sparked, and both boys flinched.
"I was trying to get away from a bounty hunter where it got stuck. He tried to cut me up, but he only hit my leg. The cut was too deep and infected, so they had to cut it off," Ezra said. Not the truth, but entirely a lie either.
"Didn't you have a med center to fix that with a bacta tank?" Luke screwed on one of the last screws to the plating on his leg.
"No. I took what I could get." The bounty hunter would have gotten to him before he would have made it to the med center. It wasn't like they would have treated him either.
"That's messed up." He patted the leg. "It's the best I could do. Got the sand out and fixed some of the frayed wires. You really should have it repaired professionally, but getting a new one would be cheaper in the long run."
"Thank you," Ezra said.
Luke laughed. "It's no problem. My father was an amazing mechanic. I want to be just like him; a mechanic and a jedi."
Ezra ducked his head, touching his lightsaber in reassurance. He left the room, ready to leave. He hoped that Kanan was ready to leave as well. Tatooine was certainly a strange place, and he did not want to be there much longer.
Ezra walked into the kitchen where Kanan was quietly talking to Aunt Beru and sat down at the table. His repaired leg bounced as he waited for Kanan to finish.
With the conversation done, Kanan turned to his Padawan. "We'll have to stay here for a little while longer while we wait for Hera and Zeb to help with the parts. Probably two more days here."
"Okay Kanan," Ezra said, mentally steeling himself for more time spent with the nosy boy. It was going to be a long two days."