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"Go again," Kanan says, stepping back. The barest hint of annoyance flashes across Ezra's face as the boy moves through the forms, his brow furrowed but his footing still not solid. He's favoring his right side too heavily. "You're off balance and distracted. Focus. Again."
"Maybe I can't focus because I'm bored. We've been doing the same thing for hours," Ezra snaps, shutting the lightsaber off and turning to face Kanan. The furrow in his brow is still there. Looking out over the vast spread of Lothal's grasslands around them should be comforting, but right now, it's just making Kanan feel stranded, stuck with the impossible task of training a Jedi entirely on his own.
"If you could focus, we wouldn't have to spend hours on lightsaber forms," he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can feel a headache coming on, and he knows they're low on painkillers. The Ghost always seems to be low on painkillers.
"Yeah, well, maybe I just can't focus. Maybe I'm not any good at this, and you were wrong about me," Ezra says. He's not quite shouting, but it's close. Kanan knows that if he tried to reach out with the Force, he'd feel Ezra's frustration rolling off him like the wind through the grass.
"You know that's not true. You have potential, but you're undisciplined. You don't know what to do with yourself or your power. It makes you sloppy, and I don't want to have to keep risking the crew for you to learn under pressure. Let's go again."
Ezra ignites the saber silently, moving through the forms again. He's still favoring his right side to an absurd degree, and Kanan tries to swallow his sigh. This hasn't been an issue in the past. It wasn't an issue a few hours ago, and he has no idea where it's coming from now. They're both tired, but even when he's worn out, staying balanced on his feet is usually one of the things Ezra's best at. He'll loose focus and let his emotions get the best of him, but he's been fighting for years, and his keeping his feet is usually the one thing Kanan doesn't have to worry about.
"You're still off. Hold the first form?" Ezra does, flicking the saber's blade off as Kanan comes close. He pushes Ezra's shoulder, not hard, but enough to knock the boy off balance. It shouldn't be enough force to cause any real problems, but Ezra stumbles, letting out a sound that could be anything from surprise to frustration. Maybe it's enough to make him realize how off he really is.
"Second form," Kanan orders, and Ezra drops any pretense of saber training.
"Can we do something else?"
"Not until you can get this right. If we have to go up against an inquisitor and you fight like this, it's going to get someone hurt. Second form."
Ezra gets into position, his weight once again disproportionately on his right leg. As he moves from the first form to the second, there are gaping holes in his defense, and Kanan doesn't want to think about what could happen if this was a real battle. He steps in close, but as he reaches out to push, Ezra stands up again.
"I get it, okay? You can get in close and push me around. No one's going to get this close in a real fight."
"It's not about someone getting close enough to push you like this, it's about being able to hold your own in close combat. If you're off balance, the inquisitors will use that against you. Again."
"Kanan, I--"
"Second form."
Ezra looks at him for a long moment before he sinks back into the position. He's closer to it this time, but he's still not balanced. At least it takes two tries for Kanan to send him stumbling.
"You're still not centered. Are you paying attention?"
"Of course I am. I'm just tired of this. Why can't we do something else?"
This time, Kanan doesn't manage to swallow back his sigh. He's got his eyes closed, so he doesn't see the way Ezra flinches at the sound. "Fine. We'll meditate and then go back to the Ghost. Dinner will probably be ready soon anyway."
"I'm... I-- I'm sorry." Ezra's voice is so quiet he's not even sure Kanan heard him. Part of him hopes Kanan didn't hear, that the apology disappeared into the tall grass at their feet. He wishes he could send his shame with it.
"Give me the lightsaber. We'll find a spot near here to sit."
Ezra hands the weapon over, following Kanan's lead as the older man sits in the grass. Ezra mirrors his master, sitting back on his heels and closing his eyes, trying with everything in him to get this right. He's fidgeting after a few seconds. Kanan is comfortable enough, but Ezra's discomfort is so strong it manages to get past the boy's barriers, his agitation seeping out of him like an oil spill. Kanan opens his eyes again, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice as he says, "Let's just go back. We can try again tomorrow."
The walk back to the Ghost is quiet, and Ezra disappears almost as soon as they're inside. Kanan makes it to his room before he lets out a growl of frustration, rubbing at his eyes as he tries to figure out what when wrong. He'd thought they were doing well. They had been doing well recently. Ezra had been getting better, so why is he suddenly doing so much worse?
There's a knock on his door, and when he uses the force to open it from his spot on the bed, Hera's outside. "Rough day?"
Kanan just groans again. He feels the bed dip beside him, and Hera leans her head on his shoulder. They sit in comfortable silence for what feels like a stolen moment before she says, "Dinner's ready."
"We should get the kids."
"Zeb's getting the others."
He just hums, letting himself enjoy a few more moments with her before his stomach rumbles, and she laughs, getting up to lead the way to the galley. Sabine and Zeb are already there with their plates, but Ezra is nowhere to be seen. When Hera asks about him, Zeb just shrugs.
"Said he'd come soon. I think Kanan's Jedi practice wore him out."
Kanan feels a twinge of guilt worm its way into his gut. He puts his fork down, fully intending to go find Ezra, but Hera's hand on his arm stops him.
"It's okay. He'll come when he's ready," she says. "Ezra doesn't miss meals. He'll be here."
Kanan spends most of the meal watching the door, only vaguely following the flow of conversation around him while watching for Ezra. Ezra doesn't come. He's walled himself off in the force, and by the time they've finished dinner, Kanan's made up his mind.
"I'm going to bring him a plate."
"Tell him we missed him?" Hera asks, and Kanan nods.
"He, uh, if you can't find him in the room, there's a vent by his bunk. He hides out in there sometimes," Zeb says. "It means he doesn't want to talk, but if you leave the food on his bunk he'll get it."
Kanan nods again, smiling a bit as Sabine pats his shoulder on her way to the sink. "Good luck."
He leaves them to clean up, promising he'll take care of the next night and slipping into the hallway. Ezra's door is closed, which isn't a surprise. What is a surprise is that even this close, Kanan can just barely feel Ezra's presence inside. Ezra hasn't been this closed off since they met. He's hiding, and Kanan is the only one he could be hiding from. The guilt that's been burrowing into him since dinner gets even deeper. He makes himself knock anyway.
"Ezra? I've got dinner."
There's a shuffling, and a moment later, Ezra says, "You can come in."
Kanan opens the door to see Ezra in his bunk. He's propped himself up on one elbow, the blanket falling off his shoulder and a datapad in his hand.
"I brought dinner," Kanan says again, more softly this time. "We missed you."
"Sorry. I guess training tired me out." Ezra's staring at the bed, and his voice is even, if a bit quieter than normal. This far away, Kanan can't read him, but that lack of emotion still seems to twist the knife in his gut.
"I'm sorry, too."
That makes Ezra look up in surprise. "For what?"
"I shouldn't have pushed you so hard. We were both tired and frustrated; I should have realized we weren't going to get anywhere." Ezra looks back down at his bed, and Kanan holds up the plate of food like a peace offering. "Can I... is it alright if I come up, or would you like some space?"
"You can come up," Ezra says quietly, tucking his datapad away. He sits up in the bunk and takes the plate of food, getting started on a roll as Kanan climbs the ladder to sit at his feet.
"Ezra, I--" Kanan's going to try to apologize again, maybe say something about how his own training was never completed and he certainly never learned how to train anyone else. He's got a speech about how they're learning together ready to go, but he's put his hand on Ezra's leg, and Ezra's let a muffled whimper escape his full mouth. Kanan pulls his hand back immediately, trying to tell if there are tears in Ezra's eyes without making the boy uncomfortable. He swallows his mouthful quickly, eyes wide.
"I'm fine. I'm not hurt; I'm... I'm fine."
Kanan frowns. He returns his hand to the spot, and when Ezra grimaces again, Kanan gently pulls the blankets away. Ezra's left ankle is wrapped in bandages Kanan's sure aren't from their supplies, but it's still swollen to about twice the size of his right one. "Ezra--"
"It's not a big deal. I didn't take any supplies from the crew, and I know how to deal with it. No one needs to take care of me; I can still do missions and I'll be back to training soon."
"I was going to ask what happened."
"Nothing. It... It got hurt a few years ago, and I don't think it healed right, so sometimes it hurts again. I'll get better, and I'll fix my stance and balance, I promise. It just... I think I twisted it, and it hurt to stand on it today. I'll be better next time."
That's the final twist of the knife. Kanan looks up to see Ezra staring down at the plate in his lap, having moved from eating to just pushing things around. Kanan says, "Is it alright with you if I go get some bacta? It should help with the swelling. Hera would know better, and she might be able to tell if it's broken, but I understand if you don't want anyone else to know."
When Ezra looks up, he almost looks surprised. "I don't need bacta; it'll be fine by tomorrow. It hasn't been bad since the first time. I can focus on it, and rub it some, and it'll be okay. It just... It makes me tired, so I... What?"
"When you focus, do you mean... Ezra, do you use the Force to heal yourself?"
"I... I guess? It just sort of happened once. It was scary; I didn't think I'd get tired and I wasn't... I almost got in trouble. But I can do it before bed, and I'm tired the next day, but it's not as bad."
"Do you think you could do it now? I might be able to help."
Ezra nods, setting his plate on the little shelf in his bunk as he reaches for his ankle. He puts a hand on it, and Kanan reaches out to do the same. He hovers it just above Ezra's hand until he gets a little nod from the boy, then rests it on top of Ezra's hand, closing his eyes and letting himself reach out with the Force. He can feel Ezra doing the same, and as he reaches out, his pent up emotions begin to flow through the bond between Master and apprentice. It starts as a little trickle, mostly physical pain, but the longer the floodgates are open, the more flows through until it's become a rushing river of Ezra's emotions. He's in far more pain than he let on, but as he and Kanan focus on healing his ankle, that pain fades to let Ezra's shame and fear take its place. Kanan does what he can to pour love through their bond along with any energy Ezra needs to help himself feel better.
When Ezra pulls their hands away after a few moments, Kanan looks at his ankle, and the swelling's almost gone. The tiredness hits him a second later, and he rubs his eyes, looking up at Ezra to see him doing the same. Ezra rolls his ankle experimentally, then looks up at Kanan with a little smile. "Thanks; you helped a lot. I... I usually can't do it this fast."
"That you can do it at all is amazing. The ability to heal with the Force was rare even when the Jedi were at their peak; I don't think I've met anyone who can do it since the outbreak of the Clone War." Ezra looks surprised at that, and Kanan smiles at him. "You impress me every day, kid."
"I want to make you proud," Ezra says, yawning. Kanan smiles.
"You already have." Ezra, who's been reaching for his mostly-finished plate, freezes. Kanan rubs his good leg. “I’m sorry I don’t tell you enough. I... I don’t know how to teach you. I’m going to do it, but I want you to know that I don’t know what I’m doing.”
"That makes two of us,” Ezra says, smiling at him. Kanan laughs.
“I guess so.” He yawns again, looking over to see Ezra rubbing his eyes again.
“I think I could meditate now, if you want to. Last time was hard because I was trying to sit on it, but I’ll be more focused now that it feels better.” Still halfway tucked under his blankets, Ezra looks ready to sleep at a moment’s notice.
“It can wait. Get some rest.”
Ezra yawns again, and Kanan takes his dishes as he settles in the bed. Kanan’s halfway to the door when he hears his name, and he turns to see Ezra propped up on an elbow. “Thank you.”
“What for, Kiddo?”
“Training me. I... I’m really glad you’re my Master.”
Kanan sets them dishes down, hoisting himself back up to the bunk’s ladder to pull Ezra into an awkward hug. “I’m glad you’re my Padawan. Sleep well, kiddo.”
“G’night,” Ezra says, and as he drifts off to sleep, he lets his walls drop. Kanan reaches out, and Ezra’s at peace. As he goes to join the rest of the crew in the lounge, Kanan keeps a steady trickle of love flowing through their bond. The others are beginning to wind down for the night. Hera takes one look at Kanan and excuses him of any shutting down duties, so he lies in bed, feeling the others settle around him in a state somewhere between meditation and sleep. He hears Zeb sneak into his and Ezra’s room, and Kanan sends steady peace through their bond to be sure Ezra doesn’t wake up. Sabine’s door opens and closes, and he can faintly hear a paint can rattle as she takes advantage of the uninterrupted time. Then the door to his cabin opens, and Hera climbs into the bed beside him. His arms wrap around her automatically as she slips a small blaster under the pillow beside his lightsaber.
“I thought I told you to go to sleep,” she says, though he can hear her smile in the darkness.
“Without you? Impossible.”
“How’s Ezra?”
Kanan sighs. “He’s strong with the Force. He deserves a better teacher.”
“He wants you.”
“Did you know he has a bad ankle?”
“I don’t think so.”
“He said he hurt it a few years back and it didn’t heal right. He’s been using the Force to heal it whenever it flares up.”
“Can you do that? Heal through the Force?”
“Not well. It’s a rare gift, I only knew a few Jedi who could.”
“What is does that mean?”
“I... I don’t know. That he’s strong, and he’s more familiar with the Force than I thought, even if he doesn’t know it. I should have realized; he’s been using the Force his whole life and he just didn't know it. I... I think I'm going to have to change how I think about teaching him.”
Hera hums, and Kanan smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of her head between her lekuku. She cuddles closer to him, and he strokes one lek gently as she yawns.
“We should... should talk about this in the morning,” she says. “Ezra’s ankle and... and the Force, and teaching. You should tell me all about it over caf.”
“Okay. I’ll bore you to death in the morning.”
Hera cuddles closer, and from the sound she makes, Kanan knows she’s rolling her eyes.
He spends a lot of time wondering if he’s doing the right thing. He’d definitely messed up during Ezra’s training today, and he knows he’ll mess up again. If Ezra does make it to Jedi knight status, it'll come with a lifetime's worth of apologies as Kanan bumbles through teaching him. But now, with his little family at rest and Hera dozing off in his arms, he knows what to do. He holds her close. He kisses the top of her head again, earning himself a happy little noise she only makes when she's mostly asleep. And as he closes his eyes, Kanan knows he's right where he belongs.