**Author's note** I decided to begin this story with a scene based directly after the season 1 episode "Gathering Forces," because I always felt that this was a turning point in the dynamic between Ezra and Kanan, and would apply to the rest of the fic. That said, please enjoy.

Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Star Wars Rebels. If I did, I highly doubt I would be legally allowed to post fanfiction about it.

"We need to talk," Kanan said with a weighted sigh.

He and Ezra had just arrived back at the Ghost after completing their mission to get the Inquisitor off their trail by leading him to the abandoned asteroid base. The experience had shaken both master and padawan to the core.

Hera read his tone, and immediately followed him to his cabin. As soon as the door slid shut behind them, she asked worriedly, "What happened?"

Kanan lowered himself onto his bed and told her about how Ezra had expertly connected with the frynocks, just as Kanan had hoped he would, and together they had used them as a defense against the Empire's forces. He then described his brief battle with the Inquisitor, which resulted in a temporary loss of consciousness. When he woke up, he saw something that still chilled his bones. Ezra, darkness emanating from his body in waves, using his newly learned ability to summon a monster.

Even worse was what followed. The boy's body, unaccustomed to the sheer destructive power of the Dark Side, collapsed in shock. Kanan went silent, unsure how to tell Hera exactly what went through his mind at the time. It was a terror like he had not known before. He had lost people, even those very precious to him, more than once in his life. This was different. At the moment he saw Ezra fall, he suddenly realized how young he was. Just barely fifteen. A child. A child he had willingly brought to war.

Swallowing hard, Kanan continued to explain that he had tried in vain to wake Ezra up by shaking him gently. His padawan's skin was like ice. His heartbeat was slow. Kanan called on the Force, hoping that some of its vitality could pass through him and into Ezra. It must have worked, because a moment later, he opened his eyes. Unsurprisingly, he weakly said that he was cold. Kanan tried to reassure him with a confidence he in no way actually felt, and scooped him over his shoulder to make their escape.

Again it struck Kanan how small the boy was. He seemed to weigh almost nothing. Kanan had only learned that day just how many years Ezra lived on his own, probably undernourished, on the streets of Lothal. He did the math. By the time Kanan first met Hera on the planet Gorse, Ezra was already alone. If only they'd found him sooner.

They made it to the Phantom and Kanan hastily deposited his precious cargo onto a seat. He used their small ship's cannons to damage the Imperial shuttle, thus ensuring that some distance could be gained between them and the Inquisitor. Only once they had reached the safety of open space, with their trajectory set on their rendezvous with the Ghost, did Kanan look back.

Ezra was curled up on his seat, clutching his knees to his chest. He refused to look at his master. Kanan flipped on the autopilot, and then quietly came to sit across from him.

"I saved us?" Ezra asked in a small voice.

"You did," Kanan confirmed.

"But something doesn't feel right."

Kanan gently explained to him how a jedi can leave himself open to the Dark Side under certain emotional circumstances, that it was not his fault, and apologized for not teaching him what he needed to know.

"But it didn't help," Hera said softly. It was more of an observation than a question. "He still looked pretty upset."

"It's my fault," Kanan said again. "I didn't expect his powers to grow so quickly. I should have warned him about the Dark Side sooner." He had been reluctant to begin Ezra's training in the first place, even if the Force clearly seemed to want him to, and this was exactly why. He wasn't the perfect jedi. He was hardly a jedi at all. In the old days, a padawan as powerful as Ezra would never have been given to someone like him. He had miscalculated, and it nearly cost Ezra his life.

Hera sat beside him. "There's no way you could have known," she soothed. "I'm just glad you're both okay."

"I don't think he is," Kanan replied doubtfully. "He has so much fear and anger inside him. Younglings like that were considered dangerous, and usually required special training. I don't know if I can help him."

"There has to be something you can do," she said firmly. "I know you'll figure it out."

Kanan was not so sure, especially with the memory of Ezra's eyes rolling back into his head so fresh in his mind. If Kanan failed at being a master, the consequences could be disastrous. But why would the Force have brought them together if it did not mean for Ezra to become a jedi?

The Force. That's right. If it was the will of the Force for Kanan to train Ezra, then it could decide if he was meant to become a jedi. His padawan had never been through a test, at least not the sort that a young jedi should be. They couldn't exactly go to Illum or the old temple on Coruscant, but there might be a place somewhere that the Empire had overlooked. It was going to take some research.

"There might be something," he said aloud, resting his chin in his hands. "But I'll have to look into it."

After a pause Hera said thoughtfully, "I guess my news better wait until later."

He glanced at her. "What news?"

"Tseebo's mind suddenly seemed to clear up after you left. I was able to talk with him before giving him to Fulcrum. He told me what happened to Ezra's parents."

Kanan straightened. "And?"

"They're alive. Or at least they were at the time he accessed their file. Their records indicate that they were taken to an Imperial prison, but it didn't say which one. Apparently, there are a thousand prisons spread throughout the galaxy."

"Hmm." Kanan looked away, considering their options. Ezra obviously believed that his parents were dead. Letting him know that they were most likely not, but that no one had any idea where they might be, would torture him. He would spend all his time and energy trying to find them. He might forgo his training in favor of searching. He might become increasingly frustrated with a lack of success, and Kanan was now acutely aware of the dangers of Ezra's anger. No, he would not let him walk that path. He would protect him.

"We shouldn't tell him," he agreed. "At least not yet. Let's see what we can find out first. Once we can narrow down the options into something more realistic, we can break it to him. Would your contacts have any information about the location of Imperial prisoners?"

"I'll ask them right away." Hera made for the door, but paused when she noticed him still sitting sullenly with unfocused eyes. She knelt beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You did the right thing," she said quietly. "You told him it wasn't his fault; you didn't get angry at him. I'd say you're a great master."

He gave her a small smile. Her faith in him, even when he had none in himself, was sometimes the only thing that kept him going. She gave him a kiss on the forehead and then left him to his thoughts.

He knew he should take out the holocron and begin scanning its star maps, but somehow he felt too hollow to move. He had never realized, or perhaps just never considered until today, how deeply it would affect him to lose Ezra.

When he awoke earlier to find the darkness swallowing his padawan up, snuffing out his light, something changed inside him. As he lifted the boy into his arms, almost certain that he was dead, an instinct like he had never known took hold. Even though he had not experienced it before, he knew exactly what it was. And it unnerved him.

Jedi did not have children. Besides, Kanan was not technically old enough to be Ezra's father. The kid was a survivor, wasn't he? He was good at escaping, good at talking his way out of trouble. Kanan had worried over him before, but on those occasions the feeling had come more like a niggling voice in the back of his head or a sudden tightening of his nerves. This time it had felt like he'd been dropped into a deep pool of despair. All at once, it seemed that he was dying too. It was a paternal instinct. It was the kind of familial love that would cause a man to sacrifice his life for his children's in a heartbeat.

Kanan retrieved the holocron from the drawer beneath his bed. The calming meditation required to open it and sift through the information would be good for him right now. He turned the cube over in his hands for a moment, not really thinking about meditation, but instead wondering if Hera had checked on Ezra yet, and if he was still cold, and if maybe he should bring him a blanket. Finally he shook his head, clearing away all thought, and let the holocron float out of his hand. He needed to find a place to test Ezra. For both their sakes.