Mishaps on Malachor

Chapter 9 - Admissions

Kanan can't deny the almost nervousness swirling through him, because he knows what his own problem is. It's not about himself. While there are some pluses to being a child again, there's mostly negatives, including how badly he wants a relationship with Hera and to officially marry and start a family, though he already has a full family here.

It's about Ezra, really. He wants a chance to raise the boy he's come to see as like a son, though he knows it's impossible. He just hasn't had time to process, and his childish brain wants both at once, and can't accept that he can only choose one.

He and Ezra have never spoken of this, even if everyone knows that they consider one another family. He's not sure how the boy will react to it. Plus, unlike Sabine, Ezra's parents are dead, and he doesn't know if his padawan would want something like a... replacement. Except they're not really replacements.

"So..." Ezra says, whispers, more accurately, where they are in the far corner of the room.

"I have a reason for not wanting to let go," Kanan admits finally. Half the reason it feels so stupid is because he's young as well. It'd defeat the purpose. "I don't want you to get older." He doesn't watch Ezra because he can sense his reaction well enough, and he's drowning in nervousness.

"Me too," he confesses, "I don't want to stay like this, but I..." He looks away, and Kanan lays a hand on his shoulder. With a start, he remembers when Ezra's parents died. It wasn't long ago. He wonders if Ezra is thinking about the same thing.

"I've thought about having... children sometimes," Kanan confesses, trying to ignore how maddening it is that he sounds like a five-year-old. "I didn't expect to end up with you and Sabine. I know you already have parents, but I..."

"Is it weird that I see you and Hera the same way?" Ezra asks suddenly. "I feel like a child again when I'm like this, and I never got... I haven't had anyone take care of me since I was seven. It feels like this can make up for what I missed."

"It wouldn't be real," Kanan points out, ignoring how part of his mind is screaming at him not to. It would be easier to stay like this. Then he wouldn't have as much to worry about, but no. He can help people, and he would never forgive himself if he didn't. "And we'd be the same age."

"I know. I just don't know how to let it go."

"I don't, either." It's difficult. Kanan is not very skilled with family. It's not something he learned until he met Hera, and it's always been slow. He never thought about it as a Jedi, obviously. "We need to accept it."

"I know you're not going to leave me. I know you're always going to take care of me, so why is it so hard?"

Kanan has absolutely no idea. He doesn't know why he himself is clinging to it. It's easier now that they're talking about it, but maybe it's something they need to work through together.

"Our age will never change our relationship," he asserts, hoping Ezra believes it as much as he's trying to himself. "Whether you're five of fifteen or twenty. We are a family, Ezra."

His padawan leans forwards, flinging his arms around his neck, and Kanan holds him close. The part of his mind that grumpily supplies how he wishes they were normal sized makes him smile. "I think I've made choices for myself long enough," he says at last. "I can help people, and I can't do that like this."

Kanan had once had a similar struggle himself – after the Empire formed, all he knew how to do was hide. It only lasted so long when surrounded by the chaos of the Empire and the damage they were doing. He did the only thing he could: kept fighting. He stood up for everything his master once did. For everything his master died for.