Having an imaginary friend wasn't uncommon and Ezra was always such a friendly child it seemed almost inevitable he'd end up with one.

"An' he's from kor-sant an' he's 14 so nearly a grown up an' he knows everything an'…" Mira just smiled as her son babbled, scrubbing his face clean of the sticky layer of dirt all small children seemed to attract simply by existing.

"He does, does he?" She scrubbed at the stubborn dirt under small fingernails.

"Uh huh." Ezra nodded enthusiastically.

"What was your little friend's name again?" Mira prompted, finally deciding her son was clean enough to sit at the dinner table with them.

"Caleb." Ezra formed both syllables carefully, smiling them he got it right. "His name's Caleb."

Ezra stopped talking so much about Caleb as he grew older. While they never said anything outright he knew his parents thought of it as a baby game, that he should spend more time with his real friends. He did, but he wished he could convince them that Caleb was just as real as anyone else, just… different.

He wasn't around all the time, sometimes he'd be gone for weeks at a time, but when he was back he felt as real as everyone else around him. So what if he was a little transparent and couldn't touch anything? Caleb was the one who explained how he had to be careful, not to talk about when he knew things, to not do things too much better than his peers.

One time he was frustrated at being unable to reach something on the top shelf, he dragged a chair over but it was still just out of reach and he shoved. The book crashed to the floor without him ever touching it. He had never seen Caleb so worried. He told him he didn't do anything bad, not at all, but if people knew very bad things would happen. He put transparent hands over Ezra's and looked into his eyes and made him promise. He did.

When they talked about shutting down the old communications tower on Lothal and building a new one more centrally located to the new Imperial Building, Ezra knew his parents thought they were keeping it secret. That he didn't see their worried looks, the talk of how it was getting harder and harder to find a job that wasn't for the Empire. Caleb never lied to him and told him it would be ok, but he sat with him and told him stories and jokes about places and people Ezra had never even heard of in school but he could picture so clearly until Ezra nearly forgot how tense his parents sounded.

When the tower was shut down and all the workers given the choice to sign up as official Imperial Telecommunications Trainees or leave, Ezra laid in his bed and pretended to sleep as his parents hauled in piece after piece of equipment to the basement.

"It's important" Caleb told him. "They're heroes."

Ezra believed him.

When the soldiers came and took them away, Ezra raged. It felt like there was too much anger and grief for his body to hold, it gnawed at his chest like a Loth-wolf. Tseebo didn't even try to stop him as he kicked walls, clawing at the furniture with fingernails that soon went ragged, breaking what little he could manage with all the helpless fury of a small child. He would have lashed out with his mind if it wasn't for the half remembered promise lurking in the back of his mind. That night he laid in the middle of rumpled sheets, crying until his eyes were dry and all the sounds caught in the back of his throat. Caleb never came. He didn't know what he'd do if he did. He had just turned seven.

Two months later, when Tseebo walked out and never looked back he tried to be angry, to be hurt, anything. There was just nothing left. He didn't even react when Caleb sat down beside him, expression unreadable.

"Are you a ghost?"

Caleb startled like he didn't expect the question. "No. I mean, not like you'd think. I'm not dead."

"What are you?"

Caleb stared out like he'd never actually considered the question. "I guess… the closest thing would be a memory."

"That's dumb."

"Yeah, guess it is."

Ezra didn't truly want to survive, not at first. Caleb was the one who coaxed him, bullied him, yelled at him into taking care of himself. He nagged him into finding shelter, pointed out people who might be willing to spare some food, and told him there was no shame in raiding the garbage bins when people weren't kind. He told Ezra it probably wasn't personal, people did stupid things, cruel things, when they were frightened. And everyone was frightened that even saying the name 'Bridger' might bring down the eye of the Empire on them.

Caleb never called him weak when he couldn't go back into the condemned house and instead trekked for hours out to the old abandoned communications tower with the faint stirrings of what felt like it might be hope.

Ezra took a long slow breath, leaning on the railing and looking out across the grassland towards the city. He wasn't surprised to feel the faint presence and catch Caleb out of the corner of his eye, leaning against the railing beside him. He hadn't seen his friend as much lately, he tended to show up when he was getting ready to do something very brave or very stupid. Caleb looked slightly different now. For as long as Ezra could remember he'd looked the same, short cropped dark hair except for one long skinny braid by his ear and robes too large for his small frame. Then roughly a year ago he'd gotten a little taller, his hair long enough to pull back into a short tail except for the braid that still dangled freely. Ezra had accused him of changing just because they were finally the same age, but Caleb had shrugged and told him it had more to do with compromises.

What compromises that might be he was surprisingly tight lipped on. Ezra knew most personal things about his friend from putting together pieces rather than being told directly. Intense emotions could keep him from coming close at all, like his rage and grief at the loss of his parents, but he had no clue where he went the rest of the time. He was quick to talk about stories of his friends and teachers, but the one time Ezra had asked where they were now, Caleb had looked stricken and vanished, not coming back for a solid week. He hadn't asked again.

"Haven't seen you around in a while." Ezra had learned if he 'thought' loud enough Caleb could hear him just fine, which came in handy, but like this there was no one else around to hear and wonder.

"Yeah. Been kind of busy. And can't stay long." Caleb didn't look like he was about the rush off, not slouched against the rail. How he could pass right through solid objects and still slouch like that Ezra had never quite figured out. "Just wanted to wish you luck."

"Thanks, with what? I don't exactly have anything planned." Ezra grinned at him, acting on impulse and reaching to touch his shoulder. For a moment it nearly felt like he made contact, warm and solid, and then his hand was passing through.

"Would it be any fun if I told you everything?"

"Fun? Of course it would be fun, it would be the most fun ever. Now spill." But Ezra was talking to thin air, and he made a face, looking out again as a shadow suddenly fell over the tower and he looked up at the belly of a Star Destroyer.

Later, much later, as he was watching the reunited Wookie father and son he felt the same warmth on his shoulder and he nearly blurted out the wrong name. Kanan wasn't Caleb though, but maybe he could make some new friends. And when Caleb came back around he'd have so much more to tell him.