Kanan held Ezra in his hands, the man…no, the kid was shaking as if he had been sliced in half. All Kanan could sense was an overwhelming fear and terror running through Ezra's veins.

"Shh…" Kanan said, "It's alright."

What the force just happened? One moment, Kanan was pumping as much info out of those drunk Storm Troopers as he could, the next Ezra was shoving people off of him, and waving his blaster around. It took all Kanan had to restrain him. Who knew the kid would get so strong as he grew.

Ezra still shook in Kanan's arms, and the cantina grew silent. "I think it's time we got out of here," Kanan whispered as he gently led Ezra out. Luckily, no one stopped either of them as they headed through the door. They were probably just as eager to see Ezra leave, as Kanan was to get out of there.

They walked down the dusty road of Johnz. Ezra was holding onto Kanan's sleeve like a little boy who had had the worst scare of his life. Kanan knew the feeling, but he couldn't place what had caused it. They had gotten far enough from the cantina, and had disappeared into the crowd. If anyone was following them (and there shouldn't have been) they would have lost them by now. Kanan led Ezra behind some roughed up trade cart, far from prying eyes.

"What the force was that kid?" Kanan asked, almost shouting. Granted, the Ezra he knew was prone to stupid stunts that nearly got the whole team killed, but that space opera back in the cantina was on a whole other level.

"S-sorry Kanan," Ezra said. He shifted from one foot to another, and his hand gently grabbed onto his blaster. He winced at himself. No, this was Kanan. His master, his real master. He would never do anything to harm him or the rest of the crew. But then, why was Ezra so terrified? Why did Kanan's glare make his blood feel like it was seeping from his skin and onto the floor? Why couldn't he move?

"I mean what?" Kanan asked again, "What exactly is going through the skull of yours?" Kanan knew he shouldn't have been this upset. It wasn't Ezra's fault. Whatever happened to Ezra was not his fault but, blast it all, Kanan couldn't make any progress if Ezra was going to have freak outs like this. He had just managed to coax some info out of those Storm Troopers when Ezra broke down. Apparently, something large was going on in the east of the city. It was worth a look...

"I-I'm sorry Kanan." Ezra said. His chest heaving and his eyes twitching. Ezra was a knot of conflicting emotions. Rage and fear. Sadness and hatred. Regret and guilt. It was so jumbled and confused that Kanan couldn't even begin to understand any of it. Once, when Ezra had connected to the darkside after being attacked by the Inquisitor, his feelings were easy to read. There was fear. An overwhelming web of fear. Fear of death. Fear of loss. Fear of disappointment. But now, nothing made sense. And when Kanan tried, really tried, to connect with Ezra's emotions all he could sense was a great fear, and…hatred. Directed solely at him.

Why would Ezra be afraid of Kanan? Why would Ezra hate Kanan?

"Look kid, whatever happened in that future, I'm making it my business to ensure it doesn't happen. But I can't do that unless I know what transpired." Kanan tried to keep his voice soft and even. "I know you're trying to be all hush-hush about it, but if it's terrible enough to make you freak out over nothing, then clearly it's something you need to fess up to."

Kanan hated seeing Ezra like this. It was bad enough his padawan was now haggard and worn out, but it was even worse that Ezra was living each day in paralyzing fear.

"Kanan," Ezra said turning away, "I can't. Alright. You just don't understand." Ezra's voice hitched and moaned, as if he were trying to keep his body from splitting open. Same old Ezra, keeping things bottled up. "It's something I can't talk about."

Kanan just rolled his eyes. How could he trust that Ezra wouldn't have another panic attack on this mission? He was too much of a liability. And frankly, Kanan didn't want to place anymore stress on his padawan than necessary. Ezra didn't want to tell him what happened in the future. Fine. It wasn't a problem. However, Kanan couldn't bear the thought of Ezra getting hurt (physically, or otherwise). Ezra was his responsibility, and Kanan would never place Ezra in a situation where he could get hurt. The previous missions were all controlled. There was backup. Someone to yank the kid out of there if things got too hot. But that safety net wasn't there this time, and no matter how old or how distant Ezra had become, he was still Ezra. Kanan reached down into his wallet and pulled out a few credits.

"Listen, I want you to take these, find a hotel and wait for me there." Kanan shoved the credits into Ezra's hands.

"W-what?" Ezra asked, "You're benching me? You can't do this op on your own Kanan."

"Well I'm gonna have to." Kanan didn't want to see Ezra look that terrified again, and if the Storm Trooper's tip was right, he wouldn't have to. He could sneak into the location, take out the weapon, and free Ezra from whatever affliction that future gave him. It was the easiest way to kill two birds. "Look, just get some rest."

No. No. No.

"Kanan, I can't do that." Ezra dropped the credits to the ground. He couldn't let Kanan go on this op alone, that's what started all of this. He might get captured. He might be turned. He might destroy everyone on the Ghost. Without thinking, Ezra ran his fingertips against his scar. The future wouldn't change. "You'll get hurt. You might be-"

"Listen kid, don't worry. I've been doin' this stuff since before you were born. Besides, you already saved me from the Storm Troopers once, and that's probably enough to change things around." Kanan flashed a sly grin, "You just get some rest."

This wasn't right. Ezra came back to change things, and all this was doing was putting everyone back where they started. Everyone would die, and it would be all his fault. Again.

Hera's blood would still stain his dreams. Sabine's scream would still haunt his evenings. Zeb's motionless body would be everywhere he turned. And Kanan's cold words would never grant him peace.

A pathetic Padawan…just like his master.

And like a flare in the darkness, Kanan felt Ezra's temper rise into the air. "I'm coming with you." Ezra stepped closer to Kanan's chest, they were nearly touching each other, breast to breast. "End of discussion."

Kanan cocked his eyebrow, "You're right kid. It is the end of the discussion."

And with one swing, Kanan's fist met Ezra's jaw. Ezra toppled to the ground, and the credits scattered as his body met the dirt.

Ezra never really could take a hit. Even with all of the training Kanan had given him, his jaw was still as brittle as a cantina window. No matter what, Ezra needed to be safe, and the safest place for Ezra was in a hotel where he could rest.

Kanan slowly propped Ezra's unconscious body onto his shoulders, and heaved. The kid was light, far lighter than he should have been. Kanan had moved crates that weighed more. Even without consciousness, Kanan could still sense swirling emotions with Ezra's heart. Fear. Pain. Guilt. Hatred. Did those feelings haunt his dreams as well?

"Come on kid," Kanan said as he lugged Ezra down the street, passersby staring, "If you stay quiet, I might even read you a story."