Chapter 2: Joy

Ezra stopped dead in his tracks, turning to face the Twi'lek who had addressed him.

"Hiii, Hera," he said with a grin.

"Give it back," she demanded, extending her hand.

"Give what back?" he replied, trying to play the innocent card.

"Whatever it is you just stole from me," she said in a flat tone.

Ezra sighed and tossed her the key. Hera turned it over in her hand, running her thumb over its shiny surface.

"The med-bay cabinet key? Why would you take the…," she trailed off. "Come here. Now," she ordered.

Ezra complied, knowing he couldn't win this argument. He sat down next to her and she examined him. It didn't take her long to find the cut, and she was not pleased.

"Ezra! You should have told someone right away! What if you had cut an artery? You would have bled out before you would have been able to treat yourself," she scolded.

Ezra's eyes were locked on the floor, his cheeks dusted with pink as he was blushing. "Yes ma'am," he replied.

"Now, let's go get that stitched up," she said, standing.

"Aww, Hera-," he started. He didn't want to trouble her when he could do it himself.

"Don't you 'Aw, Hera' me mister. Get moving," she warned.

Ezra shut his mouth, following Hera to the med-bay. He sat on the cold metal table he was all too accustomed to by this point as Hera prepared herself. She held the syringe up to the light and pressed lightly on the trigger (Note: IDK what the thing is actually called and am too lazy to look it up.) to be sure she wouldn't kill Ezra with an air bubble in his bloodstream. Then, she injected the painkiller into his forearm. She grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and cleaned his cut. She retrieved the needle and thread to stitch his cut. He barely even flinched when the needle pierced his skin, and Hera had the feeling the outcome would have been the same had she not given him the medicine. Though, Ezra had to admit that this was a whole lot easier than the first time he stitched himself up, without painkillers. It was a miracle he hadn't died from an infection back then. He was snapped out of his reverie when he felt something soft on his arm. He looked down to see that Hera had finished and was wrapping a thick white bandage around it.

"So," she began as she grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the bandage off from the rest of the roll. "How did this happen?"

"I was doing some repairs to the Phantom and I cut it on a piece of metal trying to escape an evil spark," he joked.

Hera chuckled. "As much as I appreciate that, why this late?" she asked.

"Couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind," he answered shortly.

"Want to talk about it?" she suggested.

"No!" he exclaimed, surprising Hera. "Sorry," he apologized.

"What's wrong love?" she asked, using the caring endearment she usually reserved for Kanan.

"It's…it's nothing," he answered, suddenly finding his shoe very interesting.

Hera eyed him in disbelief. She wished she could force it out of him, but it was his business and if he wanted her to stay out of it, then she would.

"Okay, only if you're sure," she tried.

"It's fine Hera," he insisted.

"Well, I'm done here, so go ahead and do, uh, whatever it is that you do in your spare time," she said with a small, tired grin. With that, she turned and left Ezra to his thoughts. He sat for a while, wishing he had just kept his mouth shut and lied. But he suspected Hera would have figured that out too. Finally, he stood and pulled his lightsaber off his belt. He lowered the ramp and walked outside. There was a small forest nearby, and it was cool outside. But that didn't mean there wasn't moisture in the air. There was a thin fog scattered about. He set his sights on a rock about forty feet away. He lifted his blaster and closed one eye. He pulled the trigger. He missed by about three feet. He snapped his fingers. He really needed to improve his aim. He lined up his sights with the rock again and narrowed his eyes. He pulled the trigger again, but the shot was about a foot too high. This time, he didn't express his frustration. Instead, he lowered his arms and bent his elbow more. He fired. Yes! It was a direct hit. Of course! Ezra was used to firing at a closer distance, or even point blank range. But a long distance shot required a different posture and stance to be accurate. He continued practicing for a while, until he saw a bright orange glow begin to appear on the horizon. Sunrise. He needed to wake up Kanan. He had requested that training start early today. He jogged into the ship. He was about to enter his master's room when he froze. Kanan would most likely sense his stress and question it. He masked his feeling of stress with the Force and tried to seem happy. He opened the door and was surprised that Kanan wasn't already awake. He figured Kanan had asked him to wake him as a precaution. He shook his master awake.

"So master, what are we doing today?" he asked.

"Well, first of all, I have something to talk to you about," the older man replied, sitting Ezra down next to him. To his surprise, Kanan grabbed a lock of his hair near the back of his head and began doing something he couldn't see. After a minute, he felt him let go and sit back. His hand flew to where his master had been working. His hair was tied in a small braid!

"What is it?" Ezra asked.

"It's called a Padawan Braid," he replied.

"But what is it?" the teen pressed.

Kanan chuckled and smiled. "One strand, the one on the right side, represents the master. The second on the left represents the Padawan. The third one in the center symbolizes the Force," he answered.

"Wow! That's pretty cool!" Ezra exclaimed, grinning broadly.

Kanan laughed. He loved seeing Ezra this happy. After what happened with Vader the previous week and Minister Tua, his Padawan hadn't been himself. They all needed a little joy. He couldn't shake the image of his student pressed against that wall with his own blade growing ever closer to his throat…it would haunt him for the rest of his life. It terrified him to think that if he had woken up thirty seconds later the boy wouldn't be standing here with that stupid grin on his face. It was strange, Kanan had only known Ezra for about ten months, and he couldn't imagine life without him. He knew Hera felt the same, and he was pretty sure the others did too. It wasn't just that feeling of hope for the Jedi, but the fifteen year old was family now. That was clear very early on. The same had been with the rest of his crew. Heck, he had only known Sabine for six months before Ezra showed up. He had met Zeb a year earlier. But Hera had been with him for at least a decade now. It also amused him to think that had Ezra stayed in his tower for another half hour, they may have never met. He was brought back to the present the very subject of his musings.

"Kanan?" the boy asked.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"What are we doing today anyways?"

Kanan smiled. He knew the boy would be pleased with this. "Training," he answered, leaning down and opening the drawers built into his bed. He pulled out two lightsaber hilts. But they didn't look right.

"What are those?" he asked.

"They're practice blades. They are physically unable to cause fatal injury to anyone, and cause nothing but an annoying sting upon contact," Kanan replied.

"So…we're gonna fight each other?"

He nodded. "Outside," he specified. Hera had been very clear: lightsaber duels were not allowed on her ship, no matter how weak the blades were.

"Okay, let's go," Ezra said, standing.

A/N: What is this? A SWR story with no POV? Blasphemy!

Ezra: Guys, help! This nutcase has imprisoned me!

Me: Get back in my closet! I mean nothing… Heh heh… *shoves Ezra back in closet and looks at you guys* Who was that? Oh, nothing, just my pris- I mean cat! My…um, five and a half foot tall cat. Yes! That's it! Heh heh. *gulps*

May the Force be with you, always.

-SWMCDC227

PS-I got that Padawan braid elements things from a tumblr thing and it's just lore. I have no idea if it's right or not.