Hey! So here's another Star Wars Rebels fic! I thought I'd try to write something showing the sorta brotherly friendship between Zeb and Ezra, because I remember hearing about that in a SW:R vid! If any of you awesome readers want to see more fics like this, with the brotherly friendship between Ezra and Zeb, please tell me!

If any characters are OOC, or if you have any ideas for future oneshots, I'd be happy to know!

My disclaimers on my profile page, and this oneshot can be seen as a standalone, or as a continuation of the other oneshots!

Please enjoy reading!

Ezra sat on the floor of the training room aboard the Ghost, knees pulled to his chest, arms folded atop. His blue eyes showed unbridled curiously as he watched Zeb train. The Lasat held a staff in his hands, though not the one he often used, the electrified ends were far too dangerous in the small training room. The one he was using now was made of sturdy wood, and far less of a danger to use.

While Ezra was learning the ways of the Jedi, he had yet to start learning anything combat related. Kanan wanted to focus the teen's training more on learning how to handle his abilities (they'd already lost many plates and bowls due to Ezra's lack of control). So, the youth had to be content with simply watching his friends train. Each had their own unique fighting style, and Ezra wanted to learn them all. He'd always watch, committing each strike, each block, even the slightest shift in stance, to memory. He'd always been observant, or so he'd been told.

Ezra jumped slightly when Zeb slammed the staff he held against the ground as he dropped into a crouch. A smile grew on Ezra's face as he watched the Lasat warrior spin the staff with practiced ease. The teen wanted nothing more than to try using a staff, it looked like fun, twirling it and swinging it about.

Zeb glanced over, a slightly irritated look on his face.

"Kid, dont'cha got sometin' ta do other than stare at me?" He asked, dropping his stance and instead standing normally, leaning slightly against the staff in his hand.

Ezra grinned crookedly, shoulders lifting in a shrug.

"I'm just watching! No need to be so cranky, that's Chopper's job."

"There ain't nothin' t' watch, an' yer makin' my spine crawl."

Ezra frowned slightly, shifting so that he sat with his legs outstretched, hands in his lap.

"Well excuse me for wanting to learn." He muttered, eyes turning to the wall as he started to sulk.

Confusion crossed the Lasat's face.

"Learn? What're ya talkin' 'bout?" He asked, raising a brow.

Ezra's gaze turned to the floor, and he fiddled with a loose thread that poked out from the knee of his pants awkwardly.

"W-well, why do you think I watch you and Sabine and Kanan train?" He asked hesitantly, seeming embarrassed. "I'm not allowed to train with weapons myself, so...well, I figure I can learn from watching you guys."

Ezra then turned a glare on Zeb, pointing an accusatory finger at the surprised looking Lasat. He didn't notice the thoughtful expression that then crossed Zeb's face.

"And if you laugh I swear-!"

"C'mere."

Ezra's voice died as Zeb cut him off, and the Lasat gestured for him to approach. Curiosity flashed through the teen's expressive face, and he only hesitated a moment before standing up and cautiously shuffling forward.

"What?"

Zeb didn't reply, eyes narrowed as he inspected Ezra for a long momement. The youth shifted nervously, unsure whether to just leave and let Zeb train in peace or stay.

"Catch."

Ezra barely registered what his friend had said before something came flying at him. He caught it quickly, glad for his reflexes that had been honed with years of living on the streets of Lothal. He was surprised to feel the grainy texture of wood against his palm, and he realized Zeb had tossed over the staff he'd been training with.

The weapon was heavier than Ezra had anticipated, and he held it rather awkwardly, confused as to what to do.

Zeb gave a slight bark of laughter, moving forward a couple of strides until he stood right in front of his young companion. He reached forward, carefully repositioning Ezra's hand.

"Like this, kid. Ya gotta keep it balanced out." He explained. "Hold it with both hands. Yeah, jus' like that."

Ezra shifted his grip on the weapon, both hands holding the staff at its middle.

"Move yer hands more apart, or it'll be off center."

Excitement lit Ezra's face as he understood now that Zeb was going to teach him to use a staff. The expression made Zeb smile, if only slightly.

"Move your feet apart." The Lasat instructed, lightly nudging the teen's foot with his own. "Or you'll fall over th' second ya move."

As Ezra fixed his feet, Zeb examined him for a split second, then nodded.

"Good. Keep your elbow tucked in close." Zeb pushed at the teen's elbow, which stuck out awkwardly. "Keep it at your side."

Ezra's did as told, then experimentally swung the staff. Zeb gave a yell of alarm, ducking just in time to avoid a knock to the head.

"Woah! Easy kid, easy! Ya want to give me a concussion?" The older male barked, grabbing the staff and effectively stopping Ezra's swinging. The youth simply smiled, feigning innocence. The Lasat warrior sighed, rolling his eyes before placing his large hands over Ezra's on the staff. "Like this kid. Don' put too much force behin' the swing. Let th' staff's weight carry it through."

The teen nodding, biting his bottom lip as his brow furrowed in concentration. A soft swing, and just as Zeb had said, the weapon's weight carried it through.

"Now, make sure t' lock your wrists and stop the staff or-"

The staff didn't stop it's circular path, and it clocked Ezra right in the side of the head. The teen yelped, nearly dropping the staff as he clutched at his aching skull, trying to blink away the stars he now saw.

"Ow!"

Zeb laughed, amusement shining in his eyes.

"Or that'll happen." He said, finishing what he had been saying.

Ezra scowled up at him, but then looked at the staff for a moment before turning his gaze back to Zeb.

"Then help me. Show me how to not do that." He insisted.

The Lasat grinned.

"I'm tryin' to, kid. But ya gotta stop swigin' the staff around an' just listen."

The youth grimaced, but planted one end of the staff firmly against the ground, sharp blue eyes focusing on Zeb.

"Okay."

The Lasat was caught offguard slightly by the pure determination in Ezra's face and voice. The teen truely, honestly wanted to learn...Zeb had thought he was joking, but now he could clearly see that Ezra really wanted to learn, wanted the Lasat to teach him.

Zeb felt strangely honored. He grinned, patting Ezra on the shoulder.

"Alrigh'. Let's start at square one."

And so for the next two and a half hours, Zeb taught Ezra, showing him how to hold the staff correctly, strikes and blocks, and the stances needed to keep his balance. Now Zeb understood why Kanan always seemed so proud of Ezra. The teen was a quick learner, and a real natural at using a staff, it turned out. The wooden weapon was heavy, as Zeb knew well, but the teen used it as though it were light as a feather.

Soon, Ezra was experimenting with the staff, linking together blocks and strikes as though in a battle. Zeb watched, feeling pride grow inside his chest as he watched his young friend, the one he saw as a little brother.

Ezra's breathing was slightly labored, strands of raven hair sticking to his sweaty face. His arms felt sore, and his legs were weak from bending into deep fighting stances. Yet, despite his obvious struggle with exhaustion, his gaze was alert, blue eyes shining in a way that made it seem like electricity was jumping inside the bright blue orbs.

But taking in the sight of the youth's shaky hold on the staff and harsh, uneven breaths, Zeb decided it was enough training. When Ezra stabbed at the air, the Lasat grabbed the weapon, carefully as to not startle the focused teen.

"Tha's enough for t'day." He said, pulling the staff from Ezra's hands. "Get some water in your system, stay hydrated. Maybe rest a lil'."

Ezra looked downtrauden as he dropped his fighting stance.

"Aw man..." He mumbled to himself, looking at the wooden weapon almost longingly. But still, he handed it over to the Lasat, then let his arms flop at his sides, gaze on the ground.

Zeb's brow furrowed as he thought for a long moment. He then nodded to himself.

"Kid." He barked, making Ezra jump. The teen looked up at him, sligtly confused.

Zeb offered the staff back to him. The teen looked from the weapon, to Zeb, then back again.

"What?" He finally managed to choke out, shock in his voice. Was Zeb really going to let him keep it?

The Lasat shifted awkwardly, unused to moments like this, where he showed a kinder side of him.

"I got a spare. You keep that one, you'll need practice if ya want t' be any good." Zeb said gruffly, avoiding the innocent blue eyes, instead studying a wall.

Ezra took the offered weapon, acting as though it were an amazing gift...Which it probably was, to him at least, Zeb realized with a sinking feeling as he remembered the the teen had not a credit to his name.

Ezra beamed up at his friend excitedly.

"This is just...Just great! It's awesome!" He exclaimed. "I'll take really good care of it! This is so cool!"

As he rambled on, Ezra headed to the training room's exit. He then paused, turning back to Zeb. The pure joy and thankfulness in his gaze was staggering.

"Thanks Zeb!"

And then the teen was gone, his words leaving a silence in the training room as Zeb stared after the youth, mulling over the past couple of hours.

Zeb remembered once that Kanan had told him couldn't fight, that the youth wasn't ready. But after witnessing what Ezra was capable of with a weapon in hand? Zeb was starting to think it wasnt Ezra who wasn't ready to fight...But rather Kanan, who wasn't ready to put his Padawan in more danger than they already were in.