As far as planets go, this is one of the strangest they've ever crashed on. So quiet and empty. Not even a faint hum of insects. Even in the most desolate parts of Lothal there was some creature rustling about.

Ezra closes his eyes. The Force thrums with…something. A faint and familiar something that he can't quite place. But it's pleasant and he stands there for a moment just soaking in the comfort it provides.

He hears Kanan approach behind him and he turns. "Any luck?"

Kanan shakes his head, his face tight. "Chopper still can't get a signal. Guess we're stuck here for a little while."

"At least the Imperials didn't follow us," Ezra replies brightly. He expects Kanan to crack a joke or at the very least a smile, but the man's troubled expression persists.

"Look, I know the Phantom's a little cramped, but don't stay out here too long." Kanan stares off into the direction of the trees, his eyes hard. "There's something unsettling about this planet."

Ezra follows his gaze. The woods are dark now, the last of the light dipping below the horizon. "What do you mean?"

"You don't feel it?

He searches the Force again, only to find the same feeling. Though a little stronger than it was before. Still nothing sinister or alarming. "Not really."

The creases in Kanan's brow deepen. "The sooner we get ahold of Hera, the better." He touches Ezra's shoulder before going back inside. "Stay alert, kid."

Hours later and Ezra is still practicing his forms. The door to the Phantom is open and he can see Kanan slumped in the captain's chair, his head lolling against the side. Chopper's tinkering with the ship, trying to fix whatever failed. Every so often he warbles out curses he only finds safe to use when Hera isn't around.

He knows he should heed Kana's warning and rest. But the Phantom's seats are far from comfortable and it's never a smart idea to sleep when Chopper is in a mood. So instead he sits in the grass and looks up at the moon.

Unlike Kanan, he doesn't find the planet unsettling. The opposite in fact. Everything is still and quiet. Curious, he touches the Force for the feeling from before. Warmth floods him so intensely he has to pull back. The withdrawal leaves him unbearably cold and he tries again, nudging his mind against it tentatively.

The sense of warmth envelopes him like a mother's embrace. Now he realizes why it felt so familiar. He closes his eyes pretending it is his own mother's arms around him. He'd been safe as child in her arms. Nothing could hurt him there. The world could be so cruel to a little boy, but that all faded away with her touch. Would he ever feel that safe again?

Ezra. His mother's voice is a whisper among the wind.

At first, he doesn't open his eyes. He should know better by now. For years he's trapped the memories behind a wall, learning it's dangerous to them seep through the cracks. Gives them power over him. Sooner or later the wall will come crumbling down, leaving him to drown in memories best left forgotten.

Ezra.

Her voice is louder this time. A presence in his ears rather than his mind.

When he opens his eyes, his mother is standing in front of him. Her face shows no hint of age, no sign that any time had passed since he last saw her.

He blinks, expecting her to vanish, the remnant of a dream. Maybe he did fall asleep.

She doesn't disappear. "I'm here, Ezra. It's me." Her smile is wistful, lost. A deep ache he has not felt in a long time builds in his chest, growing with each second that he stares at her.

It's a trick. It has to be.

He searches for answers. The Force feels strange now. Sweet and thick, as if he's wading through honey. It congeals around him, dulling everything else. But there's no darkness, no indication of danger.

"Mom?" he manages to choke out.

She reaches out her hand to him, He hesitates before taking it, fearing it will be cold. Or worse that there will be nothing there. But her hand is a solid presence. Warm and comforting, exactly as he remembers it from his childhood.

She pulls him to his feet, and they walk together under the moonlight. A mother guiding her son home. When they arrive at the edge of the forest, she turns to him, eyeing the lightsaber still clutched in his other hand.

"You don't need that anymore," she says. "Nothing in here will hurt you."

The hair on the back of his neck raises, his instincts advising him to ignite his saber. To run away. But then his mother gives him a smile brighter than the stars. There's nothing to be worried about. No reason to wield a weapon against her. His suspicion slips away as quickly as the lightsaber does from his fingers.

"Very good, Ezra," his mother murmurs. "And your communication device."

"I shouldn't. If Kanan wakes up—"

"Who?"

He blinks, shaking his head to clear the fog. She is right. There's no one but the two of them there. He unstraps his wrist comm and tosses it to the ground, unsure of why he ever had it in the first place.

"That's a good boy."

They cross the threshold of the woods and he can't help but think he will never leave them notion confuses him. Why would he ever need to leave? There's nothing here to return to.

It's dark amongst the trees. Every snap of a branch, every flickering shadow a threat. His heart pounds loudly, a storm of thunder in his ears.

"Nothing will hurt you," his mother says, her voice a gentle lullaby. "I'll keep you safe."

As simple as that, the fear melts away from him. "Where are we going?"

She laughs. The sound is a contagious song and he laughs along with her.

"Your father is waiting, of course," she answers. "We've both missed you so much."

Of course. The three of them. How it's always been.

"Ezra!"

A voice is yelling his name. It is a man's voice, but not that of his father. It's full of desperation and fear and painstakingly familiar though he can't put a face to it.

"Who is that?" he asks.

"I don't hear anything," his mother replies, her footsteps quickening. "Almost there."

"Ezra!"

The voice sounds louder now. More frantic. It echoes off the trees, filling the air. He knows that voice. Kan—

"None of that," his mother murmurs, her grip on his hand tightening.

The wind rustles past, taking the name away with it. No matter, it was hardly important to begin with. All he needs is his mother and she is right there beside him.

"Just a little further. He'll be so excited to see you again."

The trees are thicker now, their leaves blocking out the light from the moon. But he doesn't need to see. His mother is guiding him, keeping him safe. And soon his family will be all together again.

"There, almost there," she says quietly, as if to herself. She points to a dark shape up ahead, the mouth of a cave. No light spills from the entrance.

A few more steps and they'll all be together again. For years he's dreamed of this movement and now it's finally—

"Ezra." Someone grabs him from behind. His mother's touch torn away from him. She continues walking. Without him.

"Let me go," he shouts, resisting his captor. "Mom, don't leave me!"

His mother turns at the entrance of the cave, beaming. "Ezra," she calls. "It's time to come home. To be a family again."

"Ezra, please." The voice from before, the one calling his name.

"Ka—Kanan?" He stops fighting, the memory of his mentor returning to him. "What—?"

"Ezra," his mother interrupts, her voice sharp. "Don't you want to see your father?"

Of course he does. More than anything. He starts to go to her, but Kanan holds him back.

Why can't Kanan see? They're waiting for him.

"Kanan," he growls, struggling against the strong arms that trap him. "Let me go."

Kanan grunts as Ezra's elbow connects with his nose. But his grip doesn't waver, and Ezra can't break free.

"Ezra." His mother's voice is shrill, all sweetness gone. He's angered her. Ruined their perfect happiness.

"Whatever you're seeing, it's not real," Kanan yells, his words strained. "Look at it! Really look at it."

His mother bristles at the words. "He's lying," she spits.

Her agitation crashes into him, a tempest in the Force, and he stops fighting. The little shred of doubt is enough to tear through the mother's features fade away, leaving behind the nightmare in front of him. From a distance it could possibly pass as human. Two legs, two arms. But shape is where the resemblance ends. Its face is blank. No eyes, no nose.

What it does have, is teeth. It smiles wide at him. A horrible grin sharper than broken glass.

"The boy is mine," it hisses. "I will not let you steal my prey."

Kanan's hold on him slackens and he instinctively reaches for his lightsaber, only to remember he left it behind. The thing tilts it head as if pleased with this revelation and stalks toward them.

"Ezra, together."

Just like they've done many times before, Ezra shoves with all his might, Kanan beside him, arms outstretched. The Force slams into the creature, hurling it away. Only there's less power in the push than Ezra expects. The thing recovers quickly into a crouch, lips curling back into a snarl.

"You'll regret this." It slinks back into the cave, the last of the light illuminating its teeth before disappearing into the shadows.

He feels Kanan's hand on his shoulder, a comforting weight grounding him back to reality. But he needs more than that to stop the trembling that has overtaken his legs. He turns and buries his face in Kanan's chest, tears spilling from his eyes. At first Kanan stumbles slightly at the abruptness of it. And then one arm wraps around Ezra, pulling him tight. His master strokes his hair as he cries.

"Don't worry, I've got you."

Every muscle in Ezra's body tenses, the tears halting in their tracks. Kanan's voice is as sweet as vinegar. Fingers twist in his hair, the touch no longer soft nor comforting. Something sharp scratches against his scalp and he wants desperately to pull away. But his limbs won't cooperate, his body growing numb.

"I've got you."

Kanan wakes to flapping metal arms. Chopper's agitated chirps are practically unintelligible, and it takes him moment to process them.

"What do you mean you can't find Ezra?" He bolts up from his seat, nearly knocking over the droid. Chopper's irate warbling barely registers as he staggers out onto the grassy plain. It's vacant, no sign of the kid anywhere.

"Ezra?" he says into his comm.

No answer.

"Ezra, where are you?" he barks. A faint sound drifts from up ahead and he follows it toward the edge of the forest.

"Ezra, can you hear me?"

His voice is loud. Too loud. It echoes back to him and with sickening clarity he realizes why. The sound emits from up ahead and he steps toward it, already knowing what he will find. Ezra's comm lays in the dirt. His lightsaber beside it.

Cold panic surges through him and he reaches out to his student through the Force. He can feel Ezra, knows he near. But despite his efforts he can't get through to him. Something sticky and dense clings to the boy. His mind is tangled in the substance, unable to sense Kanan's connection.

He scoops up the forgotten lightsaber and sprints into the woods. "Ezra!" he screams, both with his voice and through the Force. Only silence answers him.

"Ezra!" he shouts again, his voice on the edge of hysteria. If anything happened to the kid, it will be all his fault. He forces the thought down as if it were bile. Ezra is his responsibility, and he will find him.

Kanan halts, leaning against a tree for support as he attempts to catch his breath. At the most, he's only been running for twenty minutes, but every second has felt like hours. The bond between him and Ezra is still present, but it's fragile. A spiderweb on the brink of snaping.

A dark figure comes running into view from beyond the trees. Kanan activates his lightsaber, the blue light illuminating the familiar face rushing toward him. His chest squeezes at the sight and he disengages the weapon.

"Kanan!" In the darkness he can just barely make out the relief that blossoms across Ezra's features, and Kanan is positive it mirrors his own. But then uncertainty flickers in the kid's eyes and he takes a small step back.

"Ezra?" He takes hold of the boy's face, searching it for answers. "Are you hurt? What the hell happened?"

Ezra's flinch at his touch does not go unnoticed. "I'm fine," he says, though his voices quivers. "This thing tried to eat me. But I got away."

"You had me worried, kid." He pulls the boy in tight to his chest. Ezra stiffens in the embrace, breaking it quickly.

"Sorry," he mumbles, wrapping his arms around himself, "I'm still a little jumpy, I guess."

Kanan nods, his brow furrowing. Ezra has never shied from comfort before. He studies him more closely, looking for injuries the boy might be hiding, but finds nothing obvious. When they get back to the ship, he will be sure to thoroughly check.

"Let's get out of here." He holds out Ezra's lightsaber.

A grin spreads across the kid's face. It's hungry and wolfish, nothing Ezra in it at all. Kanan tightens his grip on the saber, his instincts screaming at him not to hand it over.

Then the clouds pass, and the moon chases away the shadows. In the faint light Ezra's smile returns to goofy and grateful and completely him once more. Yet the warning in Kanan's mind is still present, a sliver of doubt strong enough for caution. He pulls back the lightsaber.

Ezra's smile falters, his face twinging with hurt and confusion. "Kanan? You okay?"

He wants to believe this is right. That Ezra is in front of him safe and whole. But he can't deny that something is wrong. His finger hovers above the saber's switch, prepared to ignite it. He reaches out towards the Force, hoping his concern for the boy has made him paranoid.

Tension drains from his shoulders and his grip on the saber relaxes. He senses no darkness. No hint of danger. Only Ezra.

His presence is warm and sweet. Just like honey.