Short, but meaningful is what I'd like to call this chapter- much like our blueberry himself :3. Sadly, however, the next is the last chapter in the Signs- and I'd like to preemptively thank all of you, just for reading and sticking along with me and the story so far. You're all amazing!

Disclaimer: See, at this point I really, really wish I owned Star Wars, just because I'd be making enough money to go and see TFA as many times as I want. It's been a month and I'm still seeing it whenever I can.

Sabine stepped back, hopped down from the Dejarik table, and looked at her master-piece. A slow, small smile grew on her face as she finally, finally deemed it complete. It just took a near-death experience and a few weeks, she thought dryly, remembering she'd been trying to even start this since before their initial op on Morden's tower.

The Mandalorian took a deep breath, and found her chest light and unburdened. She smiled softly as she moved towards the eating galley, knowing that the newfound untroubled feeling wasn't just a result of finally finishing her mural. The talk with Ezra had... cleared away a lot of her doubts, a lot of fears. He'd just... they'd both connected. He seemed to understand exactly what had been bothering her.

She had no doubt it was because he'd been through the same thing.

The doors opened to the eating galley, revealing a bored Lasat eying the remains of a nutri-bar dubiously. Zeb looked up at her with a raised eyebrow as she moved to fetch a cup of caf; she had been painting for the majority of the day, finally having her passion revitalized, and so needed at least some form of a pick-me-up. Miracle-juice would do.

"You finished?" Zeb asked, leaning back in his seat and seemingly ignoring the nutri-bar. Sabine nodded absently, drawing her cup closer towards her as she waited for her caf to finish heating. She heard an amused snort, and turned around to face the smirking Spectre. "Maybe you can quit hugging the commons now," he joked, and Sabine shrugged good-naturedly. She had been kind of blocking the rest of the crew from using the recreational room, and had only let them pass to the eating galley with a stern eye, ensuring that they kept their own firmly situated away from 'her' wall. Especially when it was so close to completion.

"You are free to come and go as you please," she proclaimed, smiling tiredly and pouring a fair amount of steaming caf into her cup. Zeb unfolded himself from the booth, completely ignoring the half finished nutri-bar and moving past her into the commons. Sabine darted over and snatched the nutri-bar, nibbling on a corner and deeming it edible.

And now, I can sit back, relax... Sabine smiled slowly, gaze flickering over to the commons door. Or I can gauge their reactions. She was very, very proud of this piece. Not just because it looked good or anything like that (though it did; it was one of her best), but because of the meaning behind it. Truly, pictures told a thousand words, but this one... she felt it described them. As a team- as a family.

Because everyone here's family; not just by blood, but bond. And we'll all take care of each other's bonded and blooded family members... no matter what.

Sabine didn't think she could make that any clearer with what she had produced, and was actually intrigued with how the rest of the crew would interpret it- but as she exited the galley, caf and nutri-bar in hand, she didn't expect to see the reaction on Zeb's face. Gruff and tough as he was, a gentle smile wasn't the first expression she'd think to pin him with.

"What do you think?" She asked, slinking up next to the Lasat and looking fondly at her creation. He snorted gently, eyeing each aspect in turn; the smile turned a little lopsided, but still genuine.

"I think this was well worth the wait, 'Bine."

"And the others?"

"Oh they'll love it."

Ezra knew she'd finished once a calm, quiet pulse resonated through their bond. His eyes opened once he felt that small, seemingly insignificant nudge, and his previous concentration dissipated- but not before he felt the satisfaction.

She must be really happy with it, then.

"Stay still; you were doing so well before..." Kanan lamented, and Ezra saw his frown on the edge of his vision.

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

"No, I'm not. You done yet?"

Kanan shifted next to him, and Ezra shivered as the filtered air brushed his bare back. "Just about. It's been healing nicely, so I think you just need a bacta patch..." Ezra perked up, excited at the idea of no more clunky bandages wrapped around his entire torso, "As long as you keep it easy and don't aggravate your back." The excitement toned down a notch.

"I got it, I got it..." Kanan actually leaned into his field of vision just to let Ezra see his raised eyebrow, which he countered with one of his own. "It's not like you guys'll let me do anything that has the remotest chance of maybe scratching anything even related to my back, so I don't really have a choice here, do I?"

The Jedi smirked and shook his head gently, pulling back to finish his 'operation' on what was left of the blaster-bolt Morden had hit him with. Honestly, though he acted (and was) impatient to get it all over with, Ezra was just as glad as Kanan and Hera that a., he'd even survived, and b., that the shot hadn't hit a spot that could've damaged his spine. In that regard, he was lucky the pack he'd had on had absorbed some of the damage; if it hadn't he would've been just that much worse for wear.

"We're just trying to keep you and all your parts intact, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Ezra buried his head in Zeb's bunk, as assaulting as the smell was, allowing Kanan better access to a still work surface. For a little bit, anyways. Face sufficiently hidden and muffled, he murmured a quiet "Thank you," and felt rather than saw Kanan's small smile.

The bacta-patch was cool, and admittedly did feel nice against his charred skin. Hera was hopeful that they could prevent a scar from forming, and if they couldn't, it would be a small one. Ezra honestly didn't care one way or the other, just as long as he could move around soon.

"That should be it, so other than the standard 'be careful's, I guess just... don't make it worse?" Ezra tilted his face out of the mattress, asking with his eyes rather than talking, and Kanan rolled his eyes with a smile. "Go on, go run about like you young people do." Ezra grinned, sitting up rapidly and darted his hand out to fetch his shirt and accompanying layers. Kanan stood up and popped his back, eyeing the bed above them both.

"Do you feel up to moving back into your bunk?"

"Ye-"

"Think first, answer second, please," Kanan smirked, and Ezra sighed dramatically in response. Honestly though, he wanted to get back to normal- though normal might not be the norm anymore, he thought, interpreting another small burst of emotion from Sabine but not having the concentration to actually pinpoint what it was. He smiled, softly. For either of us.

"I'll be fine, Kanan, I do know not to keep pushing when it hurts."

The Jedi shrugged good-naturedly. "Sometimes it's a little hard to tell. But Zeb'll be happy, he's been saying your bunk is stiffer than his..."

"Trust me, he's not the only one happy; he can take his plushy bunk, I don't want to wake up with anymore fur of his on my personal person than necessary. This is way. More. Than necessary."

Kanan shook his head. "I swear, the both of you make it out like the other is the worst bunkmate in the galaxy..." Ezra shrugged, smirking slightly as he finished dressing. It felt nice to not have the thick wrappings around his torso, and the bacta-patch radiated a certain level of comfort he found relaxing.

"Natural talent- now come on, I think Sabine's finally done with her painting!" Ezra bounded out of his bunk, moving a little awkwardly as to not pull his back but still moving through the halls with considerable speed. Just in case his instincts were wrong, however, and Sabine hadn't finished her painting, Ezra looked down at the flooring as soon as the door opened. There was no harm in being cautious.

"Um, Sabine?" He heard a shuffling of multiple pairs of feet, and fought down the temptation to look at them- things could go horribly wrong if he did-

"Look up you Lothrat, she's done," came Zeb's chuckle, but Ezra whipped his head up automatically to defend himself, he found himself looking at two Lasats. He blinked, shook his head for a second, and then realized- one was standing there smirking at him, and the other was painted on the wall, grinning goofily.

Ezra's breath caught in his throat as he saw the entirety of Sabine's mural.

All of the Ghost crew were depicted, Kanan and Hera on the left, him and Sabine on the right, Zeb in the middle and Chopper in front of the Lasat. Kanan and Hera were holding hands, smiling carefree and leaning into each other. Zeb stood to the right of Kanan, looping an arm around the Jedi's shoulders and another over Ezra's, standing next to him. Above them all was a sight Ezra didn't think he'd ever see again- he'd never even thought of it again until his late-night conversation with Sabine. A glittering moon hung bright over their heads, swirls shimmering inside of it until they formed one of Sabine's signature starbirds. Glistening arms reached out from it, spiraling around the moon and branching out, thinning, until they separated into the dozens of twinkling stars scattered about a blue-black sky. It was the moon-star hybrid he'd told Sabine about, the one from his dream- but it wasn't the most impactful thing she had painted on that wall.

Because the both of them were holding hands, as well- leaning into each other much the same as Kanan and Hera.

Sabine didn't paint without a message.

A warm hand encompassed his, and Ezra didn't even have to look to know whose it was. He tried to talk, to say something that could convey a fraction of what he felt for this painting- for her-

"Thank you," she whispered into his ear, squeezing his hand ever so slightly, "for being you."