Hera stood in the doorway to the bridge with her arms folded. She leaned on the frame of the door, and studied Kanan for a moment.

He was slouched in the co-pilots chair, one booted foot on the console while he stared moodily out into the black. His fingers tapped a staccato on his thigh, while the other hand splayed on his flat belly.

"I know you're there," Kanan said, his voice sharp in the quiet.

Hera straightened and entered, her expression serene. She took up her pilot's seat, turning slightly to watch him. "Why haven't you been to see him? He's been awake for days."

"I've been busy." Kanan's fingers stilled.

Hera frowned her disappointment. "Well, that's a big fat lie. You don't want to see him."

Kanan's chin dropped to his chest and he sighed. "No. It's not that."

"What is it, Kanan?" Hera leaned forward and touched his arm.

He folded his hand over hers.

"The guilt is eating at me."

Hera stayed silent.

He glanced up. "What?"

"I didn't say anything." Hera gave a half shrug.

"You didn't say anything loud and clear."

"Oh for goodness sake." Hera leaned back, her hand sliding out from his.

Kanan finally looked at her. "Hera…"

Hera stood up. Moved toward him, cupped both palms over his face. Kanan went very still.

"You are one of my dearest friends, Kanan. But I swear, if you don't get over yourself and go see your Padawan, I will space you myself." She kissed him on the brow, and backed up a step.

Kanan stood up slowly, towering over the lofty twi'lek. She looked up at him, a faint smile curving her lips. She put her hand on his arm and pushed him toward the door. "Go," she said. "Don't be a coward."

He jerked at that, a sour expression on his lean face. "Coward?"

"Yes. Too scared to go and talk to a boy. Your Padawan. Face down Imps and bucket heads, no problem. But one boy…?" Hera gestured vaguely with her hands. "…The big tough Jedi goes to pieces."

Kanan stepped forward, crowding her space. "I'm not a coward." His voice echoed with hurt.

Hera stood her ground. "Oh honey, I'm sorry, but you are, a little. I just wanted you to go see Ezra. That poor boy needs you to see him. He's hurting, not just physically. He needs to know you believe in him."

"Of course I do," Kanan protested, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers, his fists bunched.

"You have just stopped believing in yourself, haven't you?" Hera touched his chest.

Kanan remained silent, his eyes downcast.

"Just like that?" Hera touched his chin, beckoning him to look up. "Oh, love, you Jedi are just as easily broken as the rest of us…" Her thumb traced his jaw in an unthinking caress. "…Aren't you?"

Kanan captured her hand with his, and held it close. "Hera…"

She looked at him with curiosity. "What?"

Kanan took a breath. And let it out.

"Nothing," he said, giving his head a small shake.

"Go see Ezra," Hera said gently. "Go."

"Yeah." Kanan reluctantly released her hand.

"And smile, a little. You don't want to scare the boy." Hera's eyes crinkled with amusement.

Kanan gave her a crooked grin. "Enough moping?"

"Enough moping, Jedi."