I'm a wee rusty on writing for Rebels, but I hope you enjoy regardless!

Based on a swrrequests prompt: Kanan doesn't kill Ezra when he's possessed, but he does leave a terrible scar. Ezra doesn't tell Kanan and asks the others not to tell him and Kanan somehow remains in the dark about it until he overhears someone whispering "How do you think Bridger got that huge scar?"

This is an AU for 3x11 - "Visions and Voices." I don't own anything. Enjoy.

"Do not go back in there," Ezra says, taking a finger and poking it into Sabine's shoulder. She gives him a dirty look, pushing herself up and brushing the dust off of her armor. "They'll possess you again."

"What about you?" Sabine retorts, watching as he stands up and grabs his lightsaber in one hand. "Won't they possess you too?"

He takes off running, glancing back and giving her a cocky, self-assured smile. "I'm counting on it!"

"EZRA!" Sabine yells at him, trying to stand up to follow, but she breaks down, coughing. She waves the dust from out of her face and scowls into the cave, mumbling curses under her breath about the kid in Mando'a.

Ezra runs back to the alter, the eerie green mist paving the way. He loosely holds his lightsaber in his right hand and skids to a stop when he gets close to the center.

"Kanan?" he whispers, eyes wide. Kanan sits in a meditative pose in the middle of the alter, green mist caressing his face and slowly creeping up the sides of the cave. His mask lays by his side, his eyes closed. Ezra takes a hesitant step forward, stumbling back when Kanan's mouth opens and the gravelly voice of a witch comes out instead.

"Maul promised us flesh and blood," Kanan-who's-not-Kanan says, eyes opening, revealing the blank green stare and fixing Ezra with it. "With it, we can begin again and rebuild the great clan of the Nightsisters!"

Ezra steps forward again, hands reached out towards him. "If Maul made you that promise, it's my debt as well. I'lll pay it, just let my friend go."

"Perhaps," possessed-Kanan says, standing up and reaching for his lightsaber. "If you prove yourself stronger." He charges at Ezra, and it's all he can do to lift his lightsaber in time to block the blow. He staggers back as Kanan strikes again, not daring to fight back.

"I know you're in there!" Ezra cries. He punches his lightsaber in the direction of the alter. "I'm not losing you to these monsters!"

"Our due must be paid!" The Nightsister hisses, and Ezra whirls out of his way, stumbling back so he's pressed down against the alter. He winces; his back is definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. Kanan swings his lightsaber down again, and Ezra lunges to the side, accidentally dropping his lightsaber in the process. He throws out a hand and knocks Kanan back to the ground, his lightsaber shutting off in the process.

"Spirit, I am the one you want!" Ezra towers over Kanan, arms extended. "Let him go!"

Kanan narrows his eyes and tightens his grip on his lightsaber. He growls, and Ezra takes a hesitant step backwards, reaching out a hand to call his lightsaber back to him.

In a flash, Kanan attacks him again, the tip of his lightsaber cutting against his unscarred cheek. Ezra howls, one hand flying up to clutch it and the other shooting out to send Kanan flying.

Kanan flies several meters away and collapses into a heap, and Ezra falls unceremoniously onto his knees, hot tears springing up in his eyes. He swallows down a whimper at the harsh burn of the wound.

Kanan stirs on the ground, and Ezra can only vaguely make out a green figure coming out of him through his blurred vision. Kanan pushes himself up and blindly reaches out towards his direction.

"Ezra," Kanan groans, and Ezra bites back another whimper to stumble towards him, taking one of his arms and throwing it over his shoulders. He carefully makes sure that Kanan's arm stays far away from his cheek.

"You belong to us now, boy," the green figures hiss, and Ezra blinks rapidly to clear the tears from his eyes. His cheek burns something awful, and he helps Kanan stand up.

"Kanan, get out of here," he says desperately, pushing his master away. He calls forth his lightsaber and the darksaber and flicks them both on, ready to face off.

"You belong to us, boy," the witches repeat. "Now you will pay the price!"

Ezra stumbles back. "I'm gonna have to owe you one," he says, but it comes out a lot shakier than he wanted, and the Nightsisters cackle. He raises the lightsabers above his head and bring them down hard against the alter. The spirits scream, and the alter explodes, sending him flying back. Kanan's mask lands beside him, and he clutches for it, bringing it tight against his chest as the spirits fade above his head.

Ezra pants to himself, forces himself up, turns on his heel, and flees towards Kanan.

"Kanan," he gasps, blindly reaching out to grab his shoulders.

"This is the last time we're working with Maul," Kanan groans, growling it out amidst huge, gaping breaths. Ezra doesn't bother to reply, pressing Kanan's mask into his hands and helping him stand. He summons the darksaber and straps it to his belt, next to his green one. He'd have to give it to Sabine on the ride home.

"Where's Sabine?" Kanan asks, slipping out from under Ezra's grip. He grips Ezra's elbow as Ezra slowly starts walking.

"She's outside," Ezra says through gritted teeth. Now that the fighting's over, the rush of adrenaline he had is slowly fading, and the full brunt of the wound on his cheek bites into him. He wipes a hand against the bottom of his chin and raises it up to see if he's bleeding.

Kanan asks another question about her, and with a start, Ezra realizes that Kanan has absolutely no idea about his cheek, that he was injured, or that it was him who struck the blow. Ezra sucks in a startled breath. He can never let Kanan know.

Ezra turns around a corner, and Sabine's small form is visible pacing on the edge of the cave entrance. She looks up when Ezra stumbles and accidentally kicks a rock towards her. Her troubled expression smooths out at the sight of both of them up and walking, and she runs to meet them halfway.

She skids to a stop in front of them, eyes widening and jaw dropping when her gaze falls on Ezra's face.

"Ezra!" she gasps. "Your-"

Ezra shoots her a warning look and shakes his head rapidly. He jerks his head towards Kanan, who has a very confused expression on his face, and Sabine shuts her mouth with a click.

"Kanan? Are you alright?" Sabine turns her attention to him, giving Ezra a look that just screamed that they'd be talking about it later.

"I'm fine," Kanan says. "But what's wrong with Ezra?"

"Nothing," both Ezra and Sabine say at the same time. They shoot each other the same annoyed look, Ezra wincing in pain at the sharp movement, and Kanan swivels his mask in both their directions.

"Ezra ripped his uniform," Sabine says, hurrying forward and taking Kanan's arm from Ezra. "You know Hera's going to be annoyed at that again."

"Again, Ezra?" Kanan says, sounding half-exasperated, half-amused. "You've gone through more uniforms than anyone I've ever known, except for maybe Master Kenobi."

"Master Kenobi?" Ezra says. "Apparently he's the key to destroying the Sith." Ezra takes in the startled glances Kanan and Sabine both give him. He smiles, satisfied with himself, then winces from the sharp jerk of pain from stretching his cheek. "What? All this wasn't for nothing," he says, and Sabine shoots him a disbelieving look. "Let's just get back to the ship, and let me explain."

Ezra doesn't get to start treating his cheek until they're heading home to Atallon, after he debriefed Kanan and Sabine, and after Sabine knocked Kanan out with a light tranq. Ezra knows that's just so they can talk privately, so he wouldn't have to bite down on a belt to avoid making noise to alert Kanan while Sabine tries to clean the wound as best as she can. He sits, slumped over the table, good cheek pressing down on the surface. Sabine sits next to him and rummages through the first aid kit.

"We need to talk," she says, eyebrow raised as she scan his cheek with a critical eye. She picks up a disinfectant, and Ezra groans.

"I don't need that," he protests. "Just give me a bacta strip."

"Have you looked in a mirror yet?" Sabine says in disbelief. "It's pretty bad, Ezra. It's going to scar."

At her pointed look, Ezra stands up and slumps over to the refresher, hands on either side of the sink. He eyes himself in the mirror, cringing back at the sight.

It's deeper than he expected, red and angry, the skin around the edges of the wound swollen, tight, and pink. It stretches from the top of his cheekbone down to the corner of his lip, on the opposite side of his two other faint scars. The lightsaber cauterized the site, and so it hadn't bled, but the smell of burnt flesh makes Ezra want to throw up, especially knowing that it's his.

He stares in the mirror, nauseous at the sight, before lowering his gaze and trudging back to his seat. Sabine watches his reaction carefully.

"At least my ruggedly good looks are still intact," Ezra tries for a joke, but he just isn't feeling it. Sabine doesn't laugh either, and she leans forward and silently gets to work at cleaning the edges of the wound.

Ezra grips the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turn white, and Sabine pats his knee sympathetically. When she accidentally slips and touches the wound with more force than necessary, Ezra can't help the high pitched curse that makes its way out of his mouth, and both he and Sabine freeze when Kanan stirs on the cot. Ezra sighs in relief when Kanan settles back down, and Sabine resumes her work.

"What exactly happened, Ezra?" she asks lowly, tearing open a bacta salve packet with her teeth. "You were fine when I saw you last."

"Kanan was possessed, too," he says, and Sabine's hands still against his cheek.

"You mean he-"

Ezra nods, bile rising in his throat. He swallows it down and lowers his eyes from the look of pity Sabine is giving him.

Sabine goes quiet again, and she finishes up, taping a pristine white bandage over the wound.

"You know Hera and Zeb are gonna want to know what happened," she finally says. "They're not blind."

"You can tell them." Ezra decides, chewing on the inside of his good cheek. Sabine pushes two painkilling pills towards him, and he swallows them dry. "But Kanan can't know about this."

Sabine purses her lips and remains quiet. She starts packing up the first aid kit, and he reaches out and grabs her wrist. "Sabine, I'm serious! We only just got back on good terms. I'm not messing that up again, alright?"

Sabine sighs and wrenches her wrist out of his grip. "I won't tell him," she says, frowning. "But I think you need to."

"I'm not," Ezra says firmly. Sabine shuts the first aid kit harder than she needs to.

"Your mistake."

When they walk off the ship, the first thing Ezra sees is how similar Hera's expression is to when they arrived back from Malachor. It's full of relief to seeing that all three of them made it, and then it falls when Ezra turns his head and she sees the wide bandage on his face.

She opens her mouth to say something, and Sabine loops a hand around her wrist and tugs her to the side. From the way Zeb's ears are pricked, he's listening in on their conversation. He silently helps Ezra unload the ship.

"Where's our welcoming committee?" Kanan says teasingly, bumping shoulders with Ezra when he walks back over. Ezra forces a laugh and picks up his bag, watching as Hera's eyes grow wide and she covers her mouth with her hand.

He directs Kanan in Zeb's direction and walks off to his quarters, not wanting to stand and deal with Hera's heartbroken look and Zeb's pitying one.

The doctor on base winces when she peels back his bandage. Hera had forced him to go to the medbay and get it checked out after the mission briefing. "This is definitely going to scar," the doctor tells him. "Lightsaber wounds are tricky like that."

"I know," Ezra says, annoyed. He points to his other cheek, at the two small scars from the Grand Inquisitor, and the doctor gives him a sympathetic look. She gives him some stronger painkillers and presses on a new bandage.

"Tell your friend she did a good job," the doctor says on his way out. "The disinfectant was a nice touch."

Ezra, most definitely, does not tell Sabine that.

A week passes, and Ezra is still wearing the bandage. He's gotten a few curious looks, but nobody's asked him about it, and he plans on wearing it as long as possible.

He's walking through the cargo bay on the Ghost, trying to find a box of batteries on Hera's orders, when he runs into Kanan, whose lightsaber is out and extended in the direction of a hovering training droid.

"Hey, Ezra," Kanan says, turning towards him with a lazy grin. Ezra peeks over the top of the battery box at his master. "We haven't trained in a while. Do you want to spar?" Kanan lifts his lightsaber above his head in a mock strike.

A flashback of possessed Kanan standing over him with his lightsaber raised flits across his gaze, and without meaning to, Ezra squeaks and flinches back, dropping the box and sending batteries scattering everywhere. Kanan steps back at the noise, startled, and Ezra turns and flees.

"Ezra!" he hears Kanan call out, absolutely confused. "Ezra, wait!"

Later, Ezra is creeping back to his room on the base when he passes Kanan and Hera talking about him in her room. It reminds him of the times they used to do that when they first picked him up on Lothal, so of course he's curious to hear what they're saying now. He presses his back to the wall and sticks an ear to the door.

"I don't even know what happened," Kanan's telling Hera, sounding lost. "I asked him if he wanted to spar. He likes sparring; it's his favorite part of training. I thought he'd want to."

"You scared him," Hera says, soothing. Ezra can see her shadow lay a hand on Kanan's arm on the opposing wall.

"But why?" Kanan asks. His confusion and hurt radiate into the Force, and Ezra winces at the feel of it pulsing along the edges of their bond. "He's never been scared of me before. He knows I'd never hurt him, right?"

Heart in his throat, Ezra steps back and walks on. He wishes he hadn't eavesdropped.

Several more weeks pass, and the wound has finally scarred over. The doctor tells him he can take the bandage off, smiling as if she thinks that's a good thing.

It's not, Ezra scowls to himself. His stomach drops as he walks out of the medbay, scar red and angry and very much visible for everyone to see.

He keeps his gaze down on his feet, trying to avoid people's gazes, but that doesn't mean he still can't hear the whispers.

"Look at Bridger-"

"What happened to him?"

"That's one ugly scar, dude."

Ezra isn't paying attention to where he's going, just on finding a quiet area on base, when he accidentally runs into Zeb. Zeb's hands automatically reach out to grab his shoulders and steady him, and Ezra looks up out of reflex, startled. Zeb's eyes land on the scar and grow wide. He whistles, long and slow.

"Wow, kid, Sabine wasn't lying." Ezra scowls and looks down at the floor again, trying to duck under his grip and sidestep away. Zeb leaves a heavy paw on his shoulder and reaches out to ruffle his hair. "You wanna go practice shooting?"

Ezra blinks and looks up again, and Zeb brushes past him, scratching his chin absently. He pauses, turns and raises an eyebrow. His gaze doesn't fall on the scar, staying steadily locked on his face, and Ezra is pretty pleased about it. "You coming?"

Ezra nods and scampers after him. Nobody dares to whisper about him when Zeb's there, especially when he flexes his biceps and caresses his bo-rifle in front of them. Ezra is grateful.

Kanan walks away from the planning meeting more irritated and confused than he's been in he doesn't know how long. He has no plans other than to go off into the desert by himself and meditate on what's going on with Ezra, because apparently there's something there that he's in the dark on.

Sato had brought up potential candidates for a new mission, but when he said Ezra's name, the room went completely silent, and Kanan got the eerie feeling that everyone was staring at him. He tolerated it for a bit, squirmed in his seat for a moment, barked something out impatiently, and they moved on, but it was still really strange. Almost as strange as the way Ezra had run away from him the other day. He'd come back and apologized the next day, and they had trained a little, but Ezra wasn't into it all the way, and they both could tell.

He's so lost in thought that he almost doesn't notice the strange way the other rebels either go quiet or start whispering louder than ever when he makes his way down the hallway. Kanan frowns under his mask as he passes a usually talkative group of pilots who uncharacteristically go quiet. It's weird, and it only makes Kanan even more uneasy. Was there something on his mask? Please, don't tell him Sabine had switched it out with the pink sparkly one again.

He heads to the lunchroom and grabs a meiloorun, sitting down quietly at a table next to a group of pilots who don't seem to notice his presence. He sits, impatiently for a while, listening in on a boring conversation about some new holo-show episode that premiered the night before. He starts to tune out, but a final mention of Ezra grabs his attention again.

"Yeah, how do you think Bridger got that huge scar?"

Scar? Kanan thinks, brow furrowing. What scar?

One of the rebels whistles. "It's a beaut, all right."

"It's a lightsaber wound," another pilot chimes in. "My buddy Albrets was in the medbay the same time as him, he heard all about it."

"I heard he went up against another inquisitor and almost lost. That hot Mandalorian he's always with saved him."

"No way," another pilot scoffs. "Jeez, what is it with you and that Mandalorian?" Kanan can hear a resulting scuffle between the two.

"He only started wearing it on that mission he went on a few weeks back," someone muses, speaking a little bit louder over the others' play fight.

"You think The Empire got to him?"

"Nah, you kidding? The Empire wouldn't have let him survive if they'd captured him. The bounty on his head is almost as big as Organa's."

"I heard that it was an accident," another pilot says, and Kanan finds himself involuntarily leaning towards the voice. "During a training session. His master did it; they lost control. You know how volatile Jedi can be..."

Kanan feels his blood run cold, and he stands up, knocking his chair back. He hears the pilots immediately stop talking, and he feels the juice from the meiloorun he didn't know he had crushed run down his fingers.

"Where is Ezra now?" he growls, harsher than he means it to be. The pilots are dumbfounded, and Kanan crosses his arms.

"He was with the Lasat," someone squeaks, and Kanan thuds the fruit against the table. He knows he must cut quite the imposing figure, arms crossed, lightsaber at his hip, because the pilots aren't even breathing.

"Where?"

"The firing range!" The same pilot squeaks. "They were practicing."

Kanan turns on his heel and stalks off.

"Did you-"

"That was-"

"Bridger's Master!"

"Oh, shit, we just got Bridger killed!"

Kanan lets the cafeteria doors slam behind him. He inhales a deep breath, and it comes out a lot shakier than he wants it too. He presses a hand against the wall and the other against his mouth, waving off anyone who approaches trying to help.

What had happened to Ezra?

Kanan ends up making his way back to the Ghost to go find Hera, but instead he stumbles upon Sabine, who he apparently interrupted while painting, because the sharp smell of acrylic stings his nose.

"What's up, Kanan?" she asks, in a more pleasant mood than usual. He can hear the clink of the cans as she sets them down and the sounds of her wiping off her hands on her apron.

"The mission from a few weeks ago," he begins, and immediately the air in the room goes thick with tension, and he can feel Sabine's mood in the Force take a nose dive. "Did Ezra get hurt?"

She says something that sounds a lot like an expletive in a language he doesn't understand. "Who told you?" she asks, the happy note in her voice replaced with one a lot more careful and wary.

"I heard about it in the cafeteria. Something about a scar?"

Sabine is silent for a moment, and Kanan can hear his heart thumping in his chest.

"You need to talk to Ezra," she says. She mumbles something else in another language, something that sounds a lot like an 'I told him so.'

"Sabine," Kanan says. "Just tell me. Did Ezra get hurt or not?"

Sabine is quiet for a moment, then she sighs. "Yeah," she says. "But he's okay. It wasn't life-threatening or anything."

Kanan straightens up and takes a deep breath, feeling some relief at that. "Where is he?" he asks, more quietly this time.

"I don't know," Sabine says. "Last time I talked to Zeb he said he went out to go find him and cheer him up." Kanan nods stiffly and turns to leave her room when Sabine calls out his name again.

"It wasn't your fault," she says. "Just know." Kanan frowns a bit at that, but he nods and walks out.

Kanan gets all the way out to the firing range before he stops. He can hear Ezra laughing and giggling at something Zeb said, and he really doesn't want to take that sound away.

He turns around and heads back to the Ghost. He needs some time to think about this.

He's meditating later that evening when Ezra knocks on his bedroom door.

"Come in," he says, nerves strangely on edge. Ezra pokes his head around the doorframe and pads over, sitting down in front of him, cross-legged.

"Sabine told me you wanted to talk to me," Ezra says unwillingly, sounding like he'd rather be anywhere else but there. Kanan knows the feeling.

"When were you going to tell me about you getting hurt?" Kanan snaps. He can feel Ezra cringe back from him, and he takes a deep breath and forces some of his irritationhurtsadness off into the Force.

Ezra scuffs the toe of his shoe into the ground. "It wasn't important at the time," he mutters. "Getting the key to defeat the Sith was."

"Ezra, nothing to me is more important than your safety," Kanan starts to say, but Ezra cuts him off.

"Really?" Ezra snarks. "Cuz I kinda think training me to be a Jedi put a moving target on my back against the Empire."

Kanan rolls his eyes, one eyebrow raised, waiting for him to be done.

Ezra shuffles again, mini-tantrum died out. "How did you find out?" he mutters. It's not like you can see it, he silently adds to himself.

"You know how easily rumors spread around the base," Kanan says, tilting his head towards him.

Ezra sighs. "The pilots," he says, and coming from his mouth it sounds more like an expletive.

Kanan can't help but let the corners of his lips twitch up at that. "Don't let Hera hear you say that."

Kanan doesn't need his sight to know that Ezra is definitely rolling his eyes at him right now.

Ezra is quiet again, and Kanan waits for him to explain. "Here," he says finally. "I guess I can show you."

Kanan frowns, tilting his head to the side. "Show me? Ezra, you know I'm-"

Ezra grabs his hand and brings it up to his face, pressing it against his cheek. Kanan's jaw hangs slightly when he touches the raised edge.

Ezra clenches his jaw at Kanan's horrified look and turns his head to the side. Kanan gently uses two fingers to trace down the length of the scar, and Ezra's lips twitch when he gets too close to his mouth.

"This... feels like a lightsaber wound," Kanan says finally, leaning back and letting his hand fall. He curls his hand up into a fist and shoves it into his lap. Ezra stays silent, and Kanan narrows his eyes. "Ezra," Kanan warns.

Ezra purses his lips. "It is," he admits.

"Did Maul do this to you?" Kanan asks, horrified, and suddenly incredibly pissed off.

"No!" Ezra says. Kanan reaches out with the Force, sensing that he's telling the truth, and Kanan racks his brain for the perpetrator.

"Then who?" Kanan asks. "The Nightsisters?"

"Yeah," Ezra says. Kanan reaches out with the Force - Ezra's telling the truth, but something's still not right.

"But?" Kanan prompts. "The Nightsisters weren't completely physical."

It hits him, in that moment. The fact that it's a lightsaber scar, his strange absence of memory for part of the mission, the way Ezra ran from him when he held his lightsaber.

"It was me," Kanan says, his horror back and stronger than ever. "I did this." He knows if he hadn't been sitting, he would have fallen over. The guilt thrums in his heartbeat, his blood rushing in his ears.

"It wasn't you," Ezra says vehemently. "It was the Nightsisters. They wanted blood. I don't blame you."

"I didn't even know," Kanan says, and he thinks that's the worst part of it all. "I hurt you, and you didn't even tell me."

"Kanan, listen to me! It's not your fault. It's Maul's; he's the one who made the deal."

Kanan ponders this, the taste of guilt still sour in his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he says, because that's all he can do now.

"Don't be," Ezra says, waving a hand dismissively. "You know the togruta who works in the cafeteria? She gave me an extra slice of cake today at lunch. And Zeb told me that chicks dig scars," he jokes, leaning forward to push Kanan's shoulder.

This doesn't make Kanan feel any better, but he forces a smile that Ezra sees through immediately.

"I'm serious, Kanan," Ezra says, serious again. "It's not your fault. And if Maul thinks I'm gonna join him after this, he's wrong. We'll get him, and we'll take him down."

"We will," Kanan vows.

"Besides," Ezra says slyly, in a voice that immediately makes Kanan narrow his eyes. "Now we match."

Kanan blinks for a moment and can't help but snort. "Not sure you want a scar that matches mine, kid," he says drily.

Kanan can picture Ezra's lopsided grin, and his returning smile is real this time.

"Do you wanna spar?" Ezra asks, a tad bit hesitantly. Kanan blinks beneath his mask, but he nods anyway, fumbling around for his lightsaber on the ground near him.

"I think this time I can totally kick your ass," Ezra says, more confidently this time. He kicks Kanan's lightsaber towards him with the toe of his boot and stands up.

"I'd like to see you try, kid," Kanan snorts, pushing himself off the ground. Ezra knocks his shoulder for a moment, and although Kanan still feels incredibly guilty, it's a start, and he's not going to stop until Maul is taken down for good.

Title comes from that one line by Kanan - "Battles leave scars... some you can't see."

R&R.