"Ezra?" I say, walking up behind him. I've followed him from the mess hall back to the Ghost. He stands facing away from me, about to enter his and Zeb's room.

"Yeah?" His voice sounds strained.

"What's wrong? What's troubling you?"

He sighs. "Everything." I raise my eyebrow. "What happened on Malachor."

"It's not your fault."

"How do you know? You weren't there!"

I look at him sadly. "You sound like Kanan. When he told you about Order 66."

He freezes, and I know he's remembering the outburst Kanan made when he asked him why he didn't trust the clones. "You weren't there! You weren't even born!" Kanan's voice, dulled down from travelling through the walls of the Phantom, echoes through my head as I remember.

I shake my head. "I know because Kanan told me."

"How does he know what happened? He was blind for half of it!" I'm shocked. How could he say that? This is specifically what he's guilty about, and he's using it as an argument? Then he looks away, and more guilt flashed across his face, as he says, "I shouldn't have said that. I mean, I didn't mean that."

I nod. "I know you didn't. Besides, he didn't just tell me." He raises his eyebrow at me. "He gave me his memories of it."

His eyes widen, and it he seems horrified. "Why did he do that? He knows how awful it was. Why.." He seems at a loss for words.

"I asked him to," I say. He looks up, startled out of his stupor. Whatever he was expecting, what I said wasn't it. "You know, I can handle horrible things," I begin. "I've been through a hell of a lot of worse things than you have." He opens his mouth, about to say something, when I cut him off. "I had to watch my village, my family, my pride, burn, at the hands of the people I trusted with my life. I had to kill, mercilessly, just to stay alive from day to day. I had a friend leave me for dead, just because she didn't want to pay my cut. And you? You've had your parents killed. You've had your mentors either killed or blinded. That's it."

"There's a difference. What you went through wasn't your fault. You're not the one who brought about the death and destruction."

"You aren't either. Maul would have blinded Kanan, probably killed him, long before he actually did, if you hadn't cooperated. If anything, he would have just left you all to die at the hands of the Inquisitors. Even if you killed them, Vader would have come and killed you and Kanan along with Ahsoka."

"But it's my fault that Maul got off Malachor, my fault that he-"

"No!" I'm getting tired of explaining this to him. "Maul would have gotten off anyway, either in the Inquisitors' ships or in your own. None of that is your fault." I stare him in the eye for a few seconds, waiting for the snarky reply that he would have. But it never comes. He just stands there, staring back at me, until he looks away.

I start to turn away as well. "Do you really believe that?" The question comes in a whisper, so I can barely hear it.

I turn back to him, and say, "What do you think?" I turn and walk back to the mess hall without waiting for an answer.

"Well? How'd it go?" Hera asks before I've even sat down.

I sit down, and look up at her and Kanan. He's hunched over, trying to eat a bite of food by himself. At first glance, he doesn't seem to be listening, but I know he is. I turn to Hera, who every few seconds is redirecting Kanan's hand. "Pretty well," I say, trying to sound optimistic. "I don't think he blames himself as much as he did before.."

"That's good, at least."

It doesn't look quite right, I think as I add another streak of paint. There we go.. I hear the door open behind me. I sigh and turn away from my artwork, expecting to see Hera and Kanan requesting that I speak to Ezra again. Instead, Ezra himself stands there. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yeah, sure."

He comes and and sits on my bunk, while I stand near the wall, careful not to lean on the fresh paint. He looks over my shoulder, and spots the artwork. "What is.." he starts, then breaks off as I step aside so he can see the whole thing.

It's a painting I made of Kanan, but instead of having his eyes concealed by bandages, he's wearing a mask that reaches halfway down his face. To the side I have a few different enlarged versions of the mask, with different patterns on it. "I was trying to figure out which would look best," I say. Ezra looks at me, confused. "Kanan told me he would rather have the scar covered up even after they take the bandages off than have a constant reminder of Malachor etched on his face. I thought of this. I already have the beginnings of the mask made, I just wanted to get the design down."

"It's not colorful," he says, surprised.

"Yeah, well, I don't think Kanan would want it colorful."

"Those designs are really nice," he says.

"Not all of them are my idea. These two both took some elements from Ahsoka's armor, and this one, I got the idea for it from those marks on Rex's helmet," I say, pointing to some of the masks.

"I like that one the best," he says, pointing to the one with the design from Rex.

"Yeah, I was liking that one the best too. Good to have a second opinion, though."

He nods. "Can I see what you've made of the mask?"

"Yeah, sure." I walk over to my bunk and open one of the small drawers underneath. It's only occupant is the metal framing of the mask. "I'm planning to cover the gaps in the same type of metal, and pad the inside of it so it doesn't hurt. I'm keeping it hollow, so it's not insanely heavy," I say, as I hand the mask to Ezra.

"What face did you mold this to?"

"Well.. I had taken a holopic of Kanan a few months ago.. So I kinda based it off of that."

"Have you tried it on an actual person?"

"Uh.. no."

He thinks for a bit, then says, "You should sneak into Kanan's room while he's sleeping and try it on him."

I raise my eyebrow. "How am I supposed to get into a locked room of a light sleeper in the middle of the night? And try putting this on his face? Without waking him or anyone else up."

He grins. "Just kidding."

I shake my head at him. "So, what should I actually do to make sure it fits Kanan?"

He shrugs. "How am I supposed to know, I'm not the one making it."

I roll my eyes. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I don't know. Maybe you'll team up with Chopper and Zeb to get back at me," he says, grinning.

"Zeb, on the same team as Chopper? Not likely. Why do you never give me real suggestions?"

"I just did. With the mask."

I give him a look, which he correctly interprets to mean, "Get out of my room before you get pumped full of blaster bolts."

It's only after he leaves and the door slides shut behind him that I realize that for a second, I had the old Ezra, the Ezra I used to hate, back.

And I was happy.