Dreaming, imagining, thinking it, it wouldn't change a thing.
Kanan knew that.
Told himself it often enough. Dreaming about what ifs, perhaps and might were not good for the souls who lived in the moment.
But at the same time he couldn't help it. Couldn't help but wonder, imagine and dream this particular thought, nurture it in a way he didn't dare with others.
What if they had come to Lothal sooner. What if Ezra had been younger. How would things have been different?
Would he still be the same kid, the same kid hearted child but with less scars and more trust?
Would he have dared to come close to Kanan even?
Sometimes Kanan could imagine a bright eyed child peering up at him instead of the teenager. But both were just as eager to learn. Yet the child could be no more then seven, fresh from his overturned home.
The burden of a street life yet to touch him.
In his dreams he could see the child, could hold his hand while leading him through crowds whose faces didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the trusting smile the child with electric blue eyes sent him while clinging to his hand as tight as he could as Kanan lead him to the Ghost.
In his waking moments, he could only hope that the teenager would look at him with as trusting eyes as those of the child in his dreams.
()()()()
Hera would dream of better things. Her life had both ups and downs and sometimes the only refuge you had would be your dreams.
Sometimes about familiar things and sometimes about choices she wished she'd made better.
Other times it could be about the crew she loved and trusted, her family.
She'd dream of coming to Lothal, dream about finding a young child, on the cusps of turning nine perhaps. Eyes so rich in color they looked like sapphires with sun shining through it as he stared up at her, a mix of awe and fear in those eyes as she offered her own hands to him, smiling, assuring.
Dreams of drawing that child into her arms and picking him up, carrying him to the Ghost, knowing that this child was her to protect. Suspicion in those eyes would ease as she feed him, washed him and tucked him up in a blanket.
She'd convince Kanan to keep the child in his room, to help take care of the blue eyed urchin who desperately needed someone to love and care for him.
She'd help him pick up Basic and read and write even more then he already knew. Introduce him to Chopper and make sure the mech knew not to scare or zap the child.
She'd dream how proud she'd be when Ezra started Jedi training with Kanan.
She'd dream of a better life for a child whose parents the Empire had ripped away like so many had experienced.
()()()()()
His dreams had burned on Lasat.
Or that's what he'd tell himself to get through the cold nights and even colder at times space travels.
They had burned to leave behind shards. To dream was to remember the burning.
But sometimes Zeb could dream without it burning.
He could dream of a skinny hand trying to steal from his pouch. He could dream of catching a small hand before it could pull back and looking into blue, frightened eyes of a human no more then ten with dirt on his cheeks.
He could dream of kneeling down and asking the child where its parents were. He could dream of the shuffling as the child, whose wrist he was still holding refused to answer, looking on the verge of tears.
He could dream of a stomach growling with need of food. He could dream of his own compassion as he reached out and picked up a frightened child, unable to leave the blue eyed child behind as he moved to a vendor.
He could dream of offering a grilled meat stick to a child whose eyes had turned from fear and distrust to awe as skinny arms lifted to take the stick from him. He could see himself heading to the Ghost, arms wrapped protectively around the skinny frame of a child who had been alone for to long as the child ate the stick ravenously.
The Jedi, the Pilot and the Artist would question but relent, letting the young child come with them, helping the Warrior teach him.
They'd find a clever mind under the mop of dark hair. They'd find a sharp wit. A willingness to help now that he had been helped in return.
Pride at a child who had proven to be just as kind as he had been alone.
()()()()()
Sabine was a artist, her mind was creative, she thought in colors and patterns. Dreams were a art, they were a source of inspiration.
She happily dreamed. She dreamed of the day, of her art...and of him.
No more then eleven, the signs of distrust growing in electric eyes but not yet shutting his heart fully and building up the walls. Yet his smile was still the same, a head tilt like a curious Loth-puppy, eager for a sign of recognition and friendship as bruises sprawled across his cheek.
She'd offer him her hands, smiling in return while helping the other up, holding tightly onto a hand while carefully pulling him along, talking to him as she lead him through the crowds.
She'd dream of him opening up. Of the feeling of sadness as she pulled him along, no child should be alone. She wasn't about to let him be alone again as he had been so often.
He'd be one of them, she'd make sure of that, she'd teach him how to hold a blaster properly until Kanan taught Ezra of the Force, watching how the shadows of distrust disappeared from shining sapphires.
Dream as they became tighter knitted family then ever.
()()()()
"No, hold still Chopper!" Ezra grunted, the astromech panels opened as he worked on the wires, rolling his eyes as the other waved his arms in the air. "Look, I know, but these are rusted. I need to replace them or they won't function pro-"
He yelped as a large hand ruffled his hair, looking up in surpise as Zeb walked by him towards the galley. "Um..." He shook his head and ran his oily hands quickly through his hair before focusing back on his job.
"Okay now keep still, while I loosen these...and yes that means you won't be able to move around, all motor functions are gonna stop when I pull these ou-"
He grunted as Sabine repeated Zeb's motion from earlier, glaring after her in confusion before focusing back, letting his hair stay ruffled as he worked. "Okay, I got them, I just need to-hey Hera." He kept his eyes on Chopper as the green Twi'lek knelt beside him before freezing as she pecked him gently on the temple before following the other two to the galley.
"...What is wrong with them today?" He whispered before focusing back on Chopper, carefully getting the wires set in correctly. "Okay...now let me oil these cogs here and you're ready to go Chopper." Ezra grinned a bit.
He however got a bit delayed as Kanan gave his hair a ruffle on the way to get some kaf and food.
"Okay I give up, what is UP with all of you today!" Ezra glared at them from his position on the floor next to Chopper, the mech warbling in annoyance at Ezra being held up so HE was held up.
"Nothing. We're just glad you're here Ezra." Hera smiled at him.
Ezra blinked at that, noting that none of the others were contradicting her.
He drew his shoulders up to his ears and hurriedly focused back on oiling those cogs for Chopper but couldn't quite hide the pleased flush crawling up his neck and cheeks or the slight smile on his face.
Blue eyes sparkled with contentness.
Author note: Hmm its starting to get very fluffy, I might have to do something about that.