Chapter Two

The change that came over Kanan after his so-called vision was staggering. Worrying even, to Hera. He seemed to have become a completely different person overnight.

The changes in and of themselves weren't bad ones, either looked at individually, or as a whole. In fact, Kanan had pretty much just transformed into the ideal ally Hera had always wanted. He'd always been dependable, but suddenly he was braver, and more serious. And enthusiastic, which he'd never been before.

And sober. Alcohol had been his only major vice in the time Hera had known him. She'd suspected that before he'd joined up with her philandering had been another vice, but he seemed to have left that one behind after coming onboard the Ghost.

But now Kanan's eyes had stopped lingering overlong on Hera. Which, she would admit left her feeling a little put out, after being admired by him for so long. And though he hadn't forgone alcohol completely, she hadn't seen him drunk again since having that vision. Kanan had started living more like one of the monks of old religions.

Or like a Jedi.

And all because of a vision.

Hera couldn't pretend she wasn't worried. That vision was just as likely, if not more likely, to have been a hallucination caused by pain and meds. But Kanan was convinced that he'd seen into the future and that it had shown him his son.

He didn't talk about it much, thankfully. Hera didn't want to have more conversations like the one they'd had while Kanan had been doped up on pain meds. That look in his eyes when he'd talked about his future child had tugged at Hera's heartstrings, as much because she knew how unlikely his vision was to be a real vision as because Kanan just looked so . . .

Well, there wasn't even a word to describe how he looked. But the adoration had been so clear in his expression.

If Kanan ever did have any children, Hera had no doubt that they would be well cared for.

It was that devotion for his unborn child that had him now dedicated to Hera's cause, and Hera couldn't help but feeling rotten for taking advantage of it, because what if that vision had been nothing more than a hallucination?

To appease her own conscience, she did try to get Kanan to look at things logistically. But he would not be swayed.

"I know what I saw, Hera," he said, giving her a tolerant smile. "I know what I heard."

"Love, please just think about it." Hera realized a little too late what she'd just called him.

Kanan didn't seem to notice. "I have thought about it. About him. He's all I think about."

"Kanan, you were in a lot of pain and the medicines I gave you have been known to cause mild hallucinations."

Kanan was silent for a moment as though weighing her words. Then he shook his head. "I can see where you're coming from. I can see why you would think that. But visions are different than hallucinations. I have to trust in the Force."

"And are visions always 100 percent accurate?" asked Hera.

"No," admitted Kanan. "And they're often misinterpreted –"

"Then how do you know that's not what you're doing now?"

"Because I heard him, Hera. I didn't just see him," said Kanan. "He called me 'Dad.' There's not exactly much room for misinterpretation there. And the way he looked at me. No one's ever looked at me like that, Hera."

"Like what?"

"Like I was his hero. Like . . ." Kanan looked suddenly nervous, "Like he loved me."

Hera's heart gave a painful pang.

"And Hera . . . I think I love him," Kanan said softly, almost whispering it.

Disbelief thrummed through Hera. "You think you love your son?" she asked incredulously.

She wasn't naïve. She knew even though that was something that should have gone without saying, there were far too many cases where fathers didn't love their sons. But that wasn't what made her incredulous now. It was the context of this all. How Kanan was saying it. Almost like –

"I think so. I'm not positive because, well, I've never loved anyone before," Kanan said, not making eye contact with Hera. "Or had anyone love me before."

"Kanan . . ."

"It's not the Jedi way. Attachments are forbidden. We don't exactly have families. I don't remember my birth parents. And I never expected to be a parent. But the moment I saw my son, I started to get this feeling in my chest." Kanan touched his chest, seemingly unconsciously. "Like it's burning, except it doesn't hurt at all. I don't know how else to describe it. But I think it's because I love him."

Hera found herself blinking away tears, trying hard to hide them. She only succeeded because Kanan was so distracted by thoughts of his unborn son.

She could see how badly he wanted this to be real. And she could tell that yes, he did love his son, or would love him, if he was ever born. She really, really hoped for his sake that his vision would come true.

But because she was his friend, she also had to try to keep him grounded in case it didn't. Even though it wasn't in her cause's best interests. She had to look out for Kanan's best interests too.

"But what if your vision isn't right, Kanan? What if it coming true depended on you giving up the fight that day you said you were leaving the Ghost? Or what if it ends up not coming true for some other reason? Like you dying fighting the Empire?"

Kanan looked sick at the thought, but squared his shoulders.

"Well, the only thing worse than that, I guess, would be if I did nothing to stop the Empire, and my vision did come true," he said. "How could I face my son if I sat by and did nothing when there was something I could have been doing to make this galaxy better for him?"

Kanan won that round. Hera would give him that. Her own reasons for fighting weren't so different. Someday, she hoped to have children, but she wanted them to live in a galaxy that was at peace, and not oppressed by a tyrannical empire.

Of course that day was still far away. She still had an empire to topple. And the right partner to find to have children with.

A little bit of regret thrummed through her with the realization that Kanan couldn't be that partner. Ironically, the same thing that had caused him to morph into near-perfect husband material was the exact same reason why he wouldn't be an option to Hera.

His son was going to be a dark haired, blue eyed human.

And it was only now, after having that path shut to her, that Hera felt regret about what could never be.

Poor Hera. She still has years to go to find out the truth. However you only have one, maybe two more chapters to go.

Up next: Kanan has another vision and realizes that his son is Force Sensitive. Proudest day of his life to date.

Anyone else think Vader should take lessons from Kanan on how to be a dad? IMHO this is a case where the apprentice truly is the master.