Well; here's the third chapter. I'd like to address a few things beforehand, so feel free to skip the bolded if you want to get to the chapter.

First off- Thank you, to everyone who favorited this and followed me! I'm still a bit iffy on my writing, as I have a problem of rapidly switching between third person perspectives. Hah, to hell with me on that matter. I can say I'm trying, though.

Thank you to Ej and Rotashark for the kind reviews! I've always loved getting comments or reviews on things, and I'm always worried of what they are. Like- Criticism aimed at helping the writer is fine- but flaming always has me worried. Fortunately, the Swr fandom seems extremely tame and friendly. Once again- Thank you to the two! Means a lot.

I'm most likely going to post fanfiction ideas after the chapter, as this is [most likely] going to be the last one. Check after the passage for the bolded if you want to look through them. Feel more than free to post a comment if you favor on over the other.

Anyway, I'm writing this at... 2:06 am. Hah, I'm always getting writing motivation at this time. A love-hate relationship, rip. I'll regret it later, anywho, time for the chapter.

First part is based on the time I was on painkillers for my wisdom teeth. Weird af but was the definition of illness

It felt like he was... floating?

He couldn't see anything- that, or he was just surrounded by endless darkness. Whether his eyes were open or closed, again, he could not tell. It was an odd sensation, but a strangely peaceful one. Thinking wasn't hard, but a feeling of sleepiness pulled at him just enough to not have the will to think, or move, or anything, really. All he could really feel was the Force, and-

Ezra. The name tugged his senses. It faintly rung out in his head, like he heard it, but all he could recognize was the subtle hum of things he couldn't momentarily name, and.. A sigh?

Ezra- It called once again, the presence breaking his peacefulness. His senses were ragged and dazed, not having the control he wanted over his body. All he could do was lay there as he started to come to. An ache throughout his body made itself present, more aggressive at his throat and one of his arms. All together, Ezra felt death. A numb death, if anything.

He only then could register murmurs to his side. Masculine and feminine, and both worried. It was faint, brushed into the hum of the Ghost, but it was soothing to hear. Barely conscious, he heard his name again; only this time, he could tell it was spoken aloud. "Ezra."

The boy groaned, a strained sound barely erupting. He felt a hand tap and rest on his shoulder, before something was removed from his forehead. He hadn't realized it was there, but without it, his head throbbed from heat. Another sound erupted from him, a cross between a sigh and a breathy groan. He moved his arms to get in a more comfortable position, only to jab his injured arm into the walling.

His eyes opened instinctively, groggily jerking back, lividly conscious now. Wounded arm to chest, he tried to sit up, only to be pushed down by a thin hand pulling him by the shoulder. "Gods, Ezra, you had me worried." Hera.

Submitting with quiet sigh, the dampened cloth was replaced on his forehead. Still in a bit of a daze, his eyes flickered up at the two besides him. Hera was kneeling down besides him, despite having a chair behind her, moving his hair to the side and setting the back of her hand to the side of his head. The other; Kanan. He was sitting in his own chair with a quick-table in front of him, boxes of... He couldn't read the labels. Boxes on the table, opened, as Kanan moved the bottles and containers back and forth, his hands seemingly always doing something. His eyes, however, weren't caught on the containers. They were anxiety-ringed, looking at Ezra and occasionally glancing at Hera; to which she returned.

Hera chuckled, a forced one as she removed her hand from Ezra's cheek. "You're pretty sick." She said, to which Ezra looked away in sarcastic oblivion. Her head moved to face Kanan, motioning to a bottle. As Kanan opened it and handed the contents to Hera, she moved back to face Ezra. Her free hand gently picked up Ezra's good hand, setting the fever-reducers in his palm. "Look, I know you're uncomfortable, but I need you to take these." He did so, and Hera continued. "That's all we have. The medicine we got from the last supply run was outdated, so we need to leave to get some more." Ezra's face burned with a hint of shame, looking away like a child about to get scowled at. She hesitated, a motherly tone fringing her next words. "Just.. Get some rest, you'll be better soon."

Ezra nodded, looking up at her as she got up and left. Kanan, still in the room, sat back in his chair and let out a sigh. An awful silence encased the two for a while, until the Jedi spoke up. "How long have you been sick?" It didn't sound necessarily like a question, but not like an accusation, either.

He looked down, propping himself on his good arm and brushing over the bruise on his other. "I don't know.." A frown slipped itself on Kanan's face as he looked at the padawan, before slightly shaking his head.

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

His throat was dry, and a raspy sigh started his answer. "I.." He started, but stopped. He stared at the wall for a minute, before continuing. "It would've passed, they all do."

This obviously caught Kanan's attention as his sight held Ezra's more intensely, before he looked away in realization. "Oh," Was his quiet answer. The silence from before lingered once again, before Kanan, once again, spoke up. "You don't need to wait out your sicknesses, we have everything to help."

Ezra shifted uncomfortably, obviously somewhat affected by this statement. "It's lifestyle." He replied, before laying back down. A sudden wave of exhaustion hit him again, but something motivated him to stay awake. At least, just for a little bit longer.

"Lifestyles adapt."

"After years?" He snickered, only for it to be canceled out with a cough. "It'll be hard."

"It's still possible." Kanan's voice was more gentle now, obviously trying to say the right things; especially concerning Ezra's past. When Ezra didn't answer for a time, Kanan stood up to meet Hera for the medicine run. A slight glance back at the sick Ezra, and he began on his way.

"Kanan?" Ezra said, faintly and tired, making him stop at the door.

He looked over his shoulder, catching eye contact. "Yeah?"

There was a slight pause, neither moving, before Ezra spoke up and cut the silence.

"Thank you."

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ kms

Anyway! Here's the plots for the other fanfictions, I'd like feedback on them.

A short Kanera fic where they caught a small version of the sickness Ezra had, and they're just being sick together

Remember how Kanan got blinded? Well damn what if Ezra was the one who got blinded lol

Hera Nightmares.

Kanan Nightmares.

Ezra Nightmares.

Orr remember the lothcat drawing besides sabine's pheonix painting in season 3? I could write that scene

Ya'll tell me