A/N: Alright guys! This is it! Last chapter! Sorry it took so long to get out, but I just graduated High School so I had a lot on my plate. On the upside, it's the longest chapter yet, so… there's that! Thanks again to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, favorited, bookmarked, kudos, etc. It really means the world to me and I hope that I can continue to make people happy with my writing in the future. TW for brief descriptions of symptoms associated with mental illness in this chapter. All descriptions are based off personal experience so I am sorry if I offend anyone. If you all wanna follow me on tumblr you can find my stuff at mrntanksart. It's a relatively new blog, so I pretty much faint from excitement whenever I get a new follower. I hope you all enjoy the chapter and may the Force be with you!

It felt like ages before Ezra finally willed himself to move from that table. After his conversation with Kanan, his mind had inexplicably gone numb. He couldn't feel. He couldn't think. And with no other logical next step coming to mind, Ezra found himself wandering the halls of The Ghost, simply letting his feet carry him wherever they would go.

The thin halls of the freighter stretched out before him. Ezra took it all in. It felt like just yesterday that this motley Crew of Rebels took him under their wing, and yet these walls already had held so many memories for him. All of the things he'd learned, all of the mistakes he'd made, the life they'd given him. He couldn't even imagine where he'd be without Kanan and the others. Back on the streets of Lothal? A prisoner of the Empire? Dead? Just another lonely coward who could never see the big picture. Pathetic.

Drawing in a deep breath, Ezra stretched out his hand and began to absent-mindedly trace the walls around him, feeling every grove and indentation they had to offer. It was a strangely comforting gesture; centering and stabilizing his mind which, at the moment, felt like a stalled engine. Deep down, Ezra knew he should be confronting his problems; thinking and healing like Kanan had taught him to, but for some reason, he simply couldn't. His mind was miles away and there was no apparent way to bring it back, so he continued to wander blindly, unaware of the world around him.

Several minutes passed like this before the young Jedi finally paused his journey. He was intrigued by the sound of a gentle melody coming from the cockpit. A honey soaked voice, mellifluous and quiet, drew out beautiful, melancholy tones in a language he did not recognize. He hesitantly approached, craning his neck in an attempt to hear it all more clearly, but with little success. The voice was undeniably Hera's. But… singing? The Twi'lek woman, as motherly as she could be, rarely showed any signs of emotion or affection, so to hear her in an act of such vulnerable expression was jarring to say the least.

Ezra reached the cockpit entrance and pressed his ear against the cool, metal door. The song was beautiful, exponentially enhanced by Hera's sugary voice. He paused before punching in the lock code, wondering if the intrusion was wise or even necessary. But his curiosity got the better of him and he continued forwards, albeit with caution. He didn't want to scare the woman, much less embarrass her if she thought she had been opening up in privacy, even if he still had full intentions to tease her about the incident later.

The cockpit door opened with a hiss and Hera swung around in response. Her expression quickly morphed from shocked, to slightly embarrassed, and then to deeply weary. Exhaustion was evident in her gaze as her eyes slowly traveled from Ezra to something in her arms.

No, not something.

Someone.

She shot the boy a weary smile and continued to rock the unfamiliar child. "Oh, hi Ezra. You surprised me, I thought you went to bed. Don't worry Kanan explained everything to me, you should get some rest..." Hera trailed off, turning to stifle a yawn into her shoulder.

"What about you?" the teen asked. He knew Hera had a habit of pushing herself too far in situations like this. That's just how she was. Selfless to a fault.

Emphasizing his point, she yawned again. "I'll be fine as long as I take some stims. Besides, this little one doesn't seem to want to sleep unless someone is holding him," she cooed, nodding down at the small child in her arms.

Ezra swallowed hard, wondering whether or not he should bring up the obvious. "Were you…. Singing…. To him?" He asked cautiously, still shocked to have seen her outside of her typical professionalism.

Hera quickly turned away from him, but not in time to hide her blushing cheeks. She let out a nervous chuckle. "Yeah... My mom used to sing me this old lullaby whenever I couldn't sleep. Always put me out within seconds," she finished, trying and failing to hide another yawn. "Apparently it still does".

Ezra smiled at the woman. He always enjoyed these rare times she opened up to him, even in little ways. They were some of the few moments in which neither of them had to be strong. They could be human… relatively speaking. Before he quite knew what he was doing, Ezra blurted out: "How about I take him for awhile?" looking at the sleeping form against her chest. "It looks like you could use some sleep. Besides, I can't really sleep right now anyways, and it's kinda my fault the kid's here in the first place. Might as well pull my weight when it comes to taking care of him".

Hera seemed wary, but still tired enough to take up the offer. "Are you sure? I don't want you staying up all night, especially on my behalf".

He wanted to say no, he really did, but nothing that had happened all day held any semblance of sense, and he found himself answering yes. Despite her previous worry, Hera was visibly relieved at his response and she wasted no time reaching the teen and handing off the child with care.

"That's right… now make sure you support the neck…. Yes, just like that," she explained as she gently guided the boy's hands to where they needed to be. The child immediately began to protest at the motion, fussing as he was passed from one being to another. Ezra began to quietly panic at the sound of the infant's wails, but Hera was simply too tired to take notice. The child's screams roughly pulled him back into reality, and in that moment, all the pain and confusion from earlier that day returned in full force, leaving him speechless.

"Don't worry, he'll calm down once he gets settled. It's been a rough day for this little guy…" Hera cooed, her fingers lingering for a moment, stroking the infant's hair before breaking into another yawn. "Alright, I'm going to bed. I'll be in my cabin if you need me. Wake me in a few hours to trade back, you need your rest too," she finished in a fond tone as he headed towards the door.

Ezra remained silent as the cockpit door closed behind her, staring expectantly at the child he has just been given. He felt so helpless as all the fear and confusion from the day slowly seeped back into his mind. With every one of the child's wails, the fervency of his emotions grew stronger, to the point where it felt like a million voices were screaming incoherently inside his head. Ezra felt himself sink to the ground, still clutching the child tightly- wanting nothing more than to offer it comfort, but having no way to provide it. He was utterly helpless and it shook him to his core.

Without thinking, the young Padawan called out to his master through the Force; praying for help- for answers he couldn't receive. Every sob the child uttered echoed in Ezra's mind, bringing forth memories of his own childhood. In every cry he heard himself, wailing for his lost parents, begging passersby for help, for guidance, for love, yet never receiving it. How could someone do that to a child? Why was he left alone? He let out a choked sob, finally facing the poor child against his breast.

"I'll never let you be alone…" Ezra cried, eyes clenched tightly. "I'll never, leave you alone," he whispered again, even more determined than before.

With that, the child finally began to calm down, his screaming replaced by occasional choked sobs until finally, the infant's breathing evened out as he entered the kind world of unconsciousness. Ezra sighed, finally relaxing as a few stray tears rolled lazily down his cheeks.

It wasn't long until a frantic Kanan burst through the cockpit entrance, stumbling forwards, searching for his Padawan.

"Ezra! What's wrong?! I felt your panic, are we under attack?!" the older man panted, blindly reaching out to offer assistance. Ezra stood and guided his master to the pilot's seat, all the while keeping a tight grip on the Mirialan infant. "Are you okay?" Kanan questioned, settling into the seat.

"It's alright, Master," Ezra sighed sheepishly, guilt rising in his stomach for disturbing his mentor for something he should have been able to handle on his own. "It was just… I was still trying to wrap my head around everything that happened today. It's been…" he sighed, "It's been a lot to take in…" Kanan gave a small nod in response, but remained visibly on edge.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" he questioned, not easily forgetting the severity of the emotions he had just sensed moments ago.

Ezra paused, reliving the last few moments in his head and pondering whether or not his Master could help anymore at this point.

"Kanan?" He asked, finally working up the courage to speak, "What was it like? You know- when you guys first took me in?"

The older Jedi place a hand on his chin, leaning back a moment as if to ponder. Honestly, though, he could remember it all as if it were yesterday. Every thought, every emotion, every fear he had experienced when he met this child still lay in the forefront of his mind. Then suddenly, everything clicked. His Padawan's strange behavior, his emotional breakdowns, they all made sense. Sucking in a breath, Kanan placed a hand on Ezra's shoulder, giving him a small, understanding smile.

"It was like looking in a mirror," he explained, carefully choosing his next words. "Ezra, sometimes you encounter people in your life that remind you of yourself. You're forced to look at the good and the bad in your life, and, well… it's not always pretty. We don't like seeing our flaws, our unresolved issues, our pains and strife. We bury these things deep within ourselves in an attempt to forget them". The older man smirked a bit before continuing. "But the Force has a nasty habit of not letting us get away with that. It puts these people in our paths to Force us to see our issues from a different angle- confront them head on and, most importantly," he paused, smiling brightly and squeezing Ezra's shoulder foundly, "see the good in them". Ezra let a small smile escape at this before explaining.

"I think I know what you mean. When I saw this guy in the streets, all I could think about was how lonely he was going to be, about how he'd just lost everything. But even though I was angry at whoever had done this, I was even angrier at myself for reacting so harshly. I've seen so many people in situations like this. I shouldn't have let it affect me so much."

Kanan cut him off quickly. "No, Ezra, you should have. It's true you have to learn to control your emotions when you see wrongdoings, but never let Injustice stand Ezra. Especially when it hits that close to home. You are not weak because you couldn't stand to see this child go through what you had to".

Than something happened that Kanan didn't expect: Ezra began to cry. It was soft- barely audible, but there was no mistaking that slight hitch of breath that came along with sobbing. And in that moment, Kanan's heart bled. As hard as his own life had been, Ezra had been through so much more in a much shorter time, and he managed to overcome it all without drowning himself in alcohol like he had done. He was forced to be strong for so long. To face atrocities that no child should see, and act numb towards them just so he could survive. Nobody deserved that. Nobody.

Without speaking, he stretched his arm around the crying teen's shoulder and pulled him close. Ezra tensed slightly at the touch, but did not pull away.

"I always told myself that if I stopped to care about the bodies in the street, that I would become one. I guess I still can't shake the feeling that I've endangered everyone by doing this," he gasped.

"You're not alone anymore, Ezra. And thanks to you, neither is he," Kanan choked out, laying his free hand on the head of the infant in his Padawan's arms. "Thanks to you, he has a shot at finding his family. You gave him a chance at life, never forget that. Ezra".

The three sat there together in the cockpit for hours, allowing the night to pass them by in reverent silence. They sat there; three generations of loss, of pain, of loneliness, but also of hope. Three generations of people that had been dragged through Hell and back and lived to tell the tale. Three generations of people who chose not to just accept their blessings, but to pass them on to others. Three generations of survivors. Three generations of heroes.

A/N: And that's that! Sorry again for the slow update on this last chapter, but it took a lot of thought and I wanted to take the time to give these characters as much justice as I could. For anyone who wonders what happens to the kid, I'm operating under the assumption that they found relatives for it to stay with, but you can let your imaginations fly if you wish! That's the glory of fanfiction! Anyways, thank you all so much again. I expect to be putting up more SWR stuff too, as well as some Voltron: Legendary Defender if you're into that. Constructive Criticism is always welcome and until next time: May the Force be with you!