Grandpa(rexnotryder)&Blueberry fluff also space dad&blueberry fluff lol
I'll Get Better, For You.
It was no secret, really. From the beginning they could tell Ezra could take care of himself. He had been for seven years. From first glance he was dirty, ragged, thin and untrusting. His eyes, clear and wide and curious and yet locked under key. They noticed how he would hesitate before eating, looking at them with asking eyes until someone confirmed, yes Ezra you can eat. And especially with the room situation with Zeb, despite the constant bickering he found it hard to walk in there and call it their room. He still called it Zeb's Room because he didn't want the impression to stick that he was there now and they had to deal with it.
Honestly they could've dropped him at a port and left, but then Hera would kill them all, so it wasn't a valid option. She knew firsthand what it felt like to be alone and sad, so they became friends fast.
Long story short, he didn't like anyone else.
Ezra was like a loth-cat, sneaky, obnoxious and hard to touch. Even Kanan wasn't able to get him to open up until about two months later. After admitting he was afraid of the truth, he established a bond with the Jedi and their training went a little smoother than before. No more hesitancy.
At least… that's what they thought.
After Malachor Ezra fell apart, he locked himself away and threw away the key. This time probably for good.
His hair grew out longer, reaching his shoulders but he managed to cut it off, after growing out his old ones they found him new clothes after staying with standard armor and regular clothes for months. Sabine was tired of seeing the bland colors of the grey long sleeve and black pants, black boots and white armor (he kept his gloves because he liked them… a lot). All the same. She was mad and went to Hera. Demanding that she was tired of seeing the teen depressed and wearing sad colors. Hera smiled and let her rant on how uncolorful he was. The orange that was there was blinding before, but they all missed it.
They missed him.
Ezra didn't eat as much anymore, he'd poke around with his fork and push his leftovers (or the entire meal) to Zeb. He hesitated more, sometimes he wouldn't even show up to the galley. Hera was worried. Chopper didn't bother him as much, after finding Ryder the droid had found a new respect for him and spent most of his time comforting Ezra, letting the teen lean on him whenever he could. Hera often found them outside, against the rocks and watching the Krynka spiders waltz and border the base, unable to enter. Once and awhile Ezra would try and connect with them, only to fail with an even guiltier feeling. The force was weak around him, and at one point he'd said that he was always cold, shivering like they were on Hoth, but they weren't. They were on a hot desert planet that grew cold at night and returned to the day over and over.
Kanan…. Flat out ignored him.
And Ezra was definitely affected.
He was visually hurt, his shoulders slumped and he held a defeated posture, hugging himself more often, during meetings he wouldn't speak up, even when asked a question he would barely give an answer, as if he'd already given up. Ezra's eyes were sad, watery more often than not but refusing to cry. Sometime's he'd leave randomly and come back with irritated spots under his eyes and a slight wetness on his cheeks.
Ezra tried so hard to be strong, sometimes Hera wanted to wrap him in her arms and never let go.
But that was Kanan's job. She knew it was. He was Ezra's master, his mentor. Ezra was his protege, padawan. They needed to come together. But whenever Ezra and Kanan were in the same room, Ezra tried to speak to him but Kanan would… walk away.
Hera had a good idea to go and scold him for hours, but she knew it wouldn't help. Maybe a stern talking-to. Ezra needed help, the teen wasn't sleeping. She could tell by the dark bags pooling under his eyes.
Searching out Kanan, she finds him in his room, sulking and trying to connect with the force. Holding a cup of caf for herself, she clears her throat. The masked jedi turns his head, ear up. "We need to talk."
"Later, please."
"Now, Kanan."
He sighs, frustrated. "Fine." Kanan hauls himself up, hand against the wall as the pilot leads him to the Galley. The mask does a damn good job hiding the dark scar underneath and Hera could give Sabine props for doing a nice cut for it to fit snugly around his face. She seats herself in the booth, Kanan across from her as she takes a breath and leans back, crossing her arms.
"Alright look, we need to talk about Ezra."
"What's there to actually talk about?"
"The fact that he's depressed, Kanan. And you ignoring Ezra is why he's so stressed. Earlier you dismissed him as if he wasn't there! That hurts Kanan!" Her voice is strained as she yells, back hunched as she gives him a bitter look. One he can't see, She winces. "I'm not ignoring him! Well-" He huffs, "Maybe I am but it's not all about Ezra!"
"It's not about you either! It's about both of you!" She retorts, standing up with her hands on her hips. "Go and talk to him. He needs you, Kanan. More than ever."
The jedi strokes his beard, Hera rolling her eyes, slapping his shoulder she pulls him up. "Now. He needs you now. He's training with Rex at the base. Go talk to him." Kanan stands up, his hands planted on the table with hesitancy.
"Why is this so hard?" Hera presses, turning his jaw toward her. There's a look of uncertainty that she can spot even without the mask. As he grits his teeth, back straight and hands clenched at his side. "He's… very…. Infuriating sometimes, Hera."
"Rex or Ezra?"
"Both but that's not my point." He sighs, looking to the wall as if it will disappear. "Go talk to him, Kanan." She purses her lips, crossing her arms again and watches like a hawk as he grumbles out the door. She sucks her teeth and shakes her head.
"Jarrus you will certainly be the death of me."
"Keep your fists in, center yourself. Got it? And make sure your feet are parallel to your shoulders." Rex says as Ezra removes his jacket and armor, his holster and lightsaber. Leaving him in a white tank top. He peels off his gloves but Rex stops him, giving him a questioning look. "Keep them on, it'll protect your knuckles from severe damage. First lesson- wait-second lesson." He chuckles, eyes crinkling. Ezra nods, pulling the fabric back up his upper arm until the wrinkles smooth out. "Simple spar?" Rex asks, and Ezra nods, giving him a small smile. The clone removes his armor, taking off the gauntlets and leaving the leather gloves.
Ezra moves into a syncable position, Rex the same as he readies their fight. "Open terrain, force is allowed." He says. "Ready, move!" Ezra ducks a punch and ducks down, swiping his ankle. Rex falls, but catches himself and moves to a kick in the gut. The teen dodges and moves to look at the 'terrain'.
Rocks and plants, mostly desert. Tall rocks. Maybe he can use the shorter dunes as leverage.
A fist flies at his face, and Ezra ducks, jumping up at the rocks and flipping onto the other one. Rex swipes at his feet and Ezra jumps, back to the ground and screws the elder's gut. He feels a little bad, but not bad enough to stop.
He feels the nausea and exhaustion press at him all at once and Ezra staggers, his fists trembling as he takes a blow to his hip and shoulder. He grunts, blocking the blow to his face and takes a risk, lunging forward and blocking an arm at his neck. They crash to the ground and Ezra pins his arms to the sandy earth.
They breathe heavily, but Ezra snorts, laughing as he sits back off of his chest. "First time I've kicked your ass, old man." He teases and leans back on his hands, "And it won't be the last." Rex chortles, standing up and brushing the dust off of his clothes.
"Ezra!" The teen turns, standing up and lets the sand drop back to the ground from his fists. "We need to talk." Ezra gulps, looking at Rex who just nods. The two had come to a grateful friendship, after their fallout Ezra realized Rex was just drunk, drinking his sorrows away from the loss of his friend and the teen understood. Embarrassingly, he'd done it before. They'd bonded shortly after the fight, after a sincere apology from the clone and a few much-needed hugs later, they were closer than they used to be, at least.
Ezra plants a foot down, but hesitates to take anymore as Kanan waits patiently.
Right. He's… been giving me time.
Hugging his folded jacket close to his chest, he moves forward and looks up at his mentor, expecting some sort of explanation. "In private." He mumbles and turns around walking away.
They move toward a more secluded part of the desert, thankful for no Krynka spiders and Kanan takes a deep breath. "Ezra… I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry? I should be the one apologizing I should have listened to you! And… yet I trusted Maul and now-"
"It's not… that. Ezra I'm sorry I've been neglecting you."
"It's…" he stops. "... Fine. It's fine, Kanan."
"It's not fine!" He bellows, the teen flinching away as he returns his gaze slowly to the ground. "I… shouldn't have ignored you. I'm sorry."
"It's fine, Kanan I'm… fine." Ezra feels his legs sway, knees buckling as a wave of exhaustion overcomes him, the force surrounding him with a dark presence.
Kanan catches the teen as he falls, a light barrier protecting his mind when he investigates the source. It feels heavy, desperate as he hauls Ezra up, trying to get him to stand. With an arm wrapped around his shoulders and another on his back he prods his padawan through the force and Ezra jolts awake.
He pushes away from Kanan, his hands shaking uncontrollably and Ezra feels heavier, much heavier than he was before. His limbs feel like lead, and his eyes droop with exhaustion.
"Kanan… Can we talk later? Please? I'm… so tired." He whines, yes whines and closes his eyes. Ezra knew under that mask Kanan wasn't looking amused, more so worried than that. Hera would be too. Ezra knew he was getting thinner again, but he was stronger, faster that way.
"Ezra we need to talk now." Kanan takes him by the biceps, pulling him forward and along the path. Muttering something like 'I'm blind yet I have to be the tour guide.' with an exasperated sigh. Ezra winces, feeling a warm limb wrap around his shoulders and guide him through a bright, metallic smelling place. "Ezra, where have you been?" Hera's voice appears, and Ezra opens his eyes, blinking once or twice.
"I haven't seen you around lately," she says, placing a hand on his shoulder where Kanan's hand was. "Ezra, Rex told me you're overworking. Why?"
"I want… to be better." the sound almost rips from his throat, and he struggles to compensate the words. "But I want… to sleep." he breaths. Hera gives him a look, and softens. "Go to bed, we'll continue in the morning. Galley, when you get up. Okay?"
Ezra nods, closing his eyes and clenching them shut as he clears his throat. "Yes, yes fine. Okay."
"Goodnight."
He stumbles away, shoulders hunched. "G'night."