16:

Once- what now felt like lifetimes ago- Ezra had been scratched by a bullet while he was running to safety and he had thought that that was the worst pain he's ever felt before. He was wrong.

This pain he felt, waking up on the floor with a dull ached that throbbed inside his chest, was a million times worst. It felt like he was dying and he groaned as he tried flopping over only for another spike of pain to twist itself in his insides and he cried out as he collapsed back against the ground.

He reached up, fingers dabbing at the pain and knew he was in shock when he felt nothing when they pulled away red.

Bleeding. He was bleeding, and it hurt.

Dying hurt.

"Ezra?" Kanan's worried voice called from somewhere above him, but once Ezra managed to get his eyes to focus he realized the man wasn't even looking at him.

He was looking across the room at a still smirking Inquisitor, a smoking gun in his hands and Ezra realized that he had shot him. Just like he did with those poor guys in the woods and- hot dang- it hurt.

"Kanan?" he managed to force out, blinking sluggish blue eyes as he tried to force his brain to concentrate because he was still bleeding and they weren't out of whatever mess they were in.

That is, unless the Inquisitor had- for some reason- turned over a new leaf and was on their side now. Ezra knew he was delirious then, as he pushed the thought away and tried moving, sitting up, something. Anything that wasn't lying there and bleeding out all over the filthy floor.

The pain in the shoulder sent him crashing back to the ground and though he was now gripping the wound tightly he still felt blood leave his body a little too quickly.

It must have been a clean shot, then, going right on through without stopping.

Good, if he wasn't trapped in the middle of a cult/gang thing bleeding and dizzy and he was only 15. How many 15-year-olds have to worry about this, anyways?

"Ezra, you still with me?" Kanan repeated and Ezra blinked, staring at the man's boots as he tried focusing on words and how to communicate with them.

"I'm… here," he groaned, mouth dry and tongue practically swollen but he somehow managed to force the words out and felt his body relax.

It was cold, and he was in pain and the Inquisitor was still standing there with a malicious smile spread across his face.

It hurt.

He hurt.

Something was wrong.

"Kanan?" he asked, blinking and realized Kanan was holding a gun of his own and Ezra wondered how long he had been unconscious because he was almost certain he had been weaponless before.

"Relax, Ezra, you're going to be fine," Kanan reassured and though his words meant to soothe, they didn't really.

He was still hurt, bleeding.

Dying.

He was dying. At 15.

Who would've thought?

Not him because he was struggling to keep his thoughts in order as it was as he managed to roll up to his knees, fingers digging into the flesh by his wound as he tried stemming the bleeding.

Pointless since the world still seemed to sway and it was a miracle he hadn't suddenly fallen over dead yet.

"Ezra?" Kanan asked, turning for the first time and seemed to realize the condition he was in as his eyes widened in shock and Ezra didn't have enough energy to do anything but sit and stare dumbly.

He was weak.

He was cold.

He wanted to go home.

Then he remembered fire and smoke and realized that there was no home to go back to. They were homeless and Ezra was bleeding and he swore someone somewhere was winning the lottery because he was having seriously bad luck.

"Ezra," Kanan repeated and it took him a second before he realized the man must've been trying to get his attention for a while now.

Ezra hummed in reply, too weak to do much of anything else, as he blinked sluggish eyes up at him and even he knew growing tired and sluggish was a bad sign.

"You need to stop the bleeding. Tie something around the wound," the older man informed him and Ezra wondered if bossing him around made him feel in better.

It certainly didn't help improve his mood but, then again, he had been shot and was in incredibly amounts of pain.

"Okay," he agreed, tongue heavy as he glanced around for something to use only for a piece of cloth to be thrown in his face.

He blinked, removing it with shaky hands as he glanced up at Kanan and realized he'd given it to him. Then he remembered his shoulder and wasted no time wrapping the shaking cloth around the wound, knotting it tightly in the back with his teeth.

Now his hands were free but he still felt like curling up to take a million year nap.

"No napping," someone snapped in his brain and he blinked because the voice had sounded feminine and very much like his dead mother.

Now he knew he was going crazy.

Or at least, whatever the equivalent was.

"Aw, I don't know how much the boy can take," the Inquisitor mocked suddenly, voice piercing his skull as he struggled to stop the room from spinning, "Maybe I should just put him out from his misery now."

The gun was directed at his skull.

He blinked, feeling his blood freeze over as his heart constricted in on itself and he felt so numb and cold that he couldn't do anything but stare at the weapon with large blue eyes.

Punishment. He must be being punished for something he did and that was why everything that's ever happened to him was happening to him.

What was it called? Karma? Yeah, definitely karma.

Wait, what was he thinking about again?

He couldn't remember and his head was throbbing now.

In front of him, Kanan just tensed and straightened his back as he narrowed the gun at the Inquisitor and growled, "I'm going to stop you."

The Inquisitor just smirked, tilting his head to the side, as he challenged, "You can try."

A gun fired and a split second later Kanan was hauling him up and across the room, ducking him behind a crate in the corner and it took a second before he realized Kanan had been the one who fired. It took a second longer than that for the room to stop spinning.

"Stay here," Kanan demanded, rising to a crouch and readying the gun in his hand.

Ezra didn't even get a chance to ask where he was supposed to go before Kanan fired several more shots and disappeared around the other side of the crate. Ezra groaned, rolling over so he could peak around the edge.

The Inquisitor was gone and from the position Kanan was directed he took a gamble and said the man was hiding too. He was proven right when he peaked around the edge and fired several quick shots, all of which Kanan dodged when he ducked for cover.

The wound in Ezra's shoulder throbbed, causing him to wince as he pulled back to grip the now bloody rag in his hand.

Behind his head, several more shots fired.

"You're a murderer Stein," Kanan growled and Ezra blinked because it must be serious if he was using his real name.

The Inquisitor just chuckled, the sound sending chills down Ezra's spine, as he informed, "Martin Stein died a long time ago."

Ezra looked back around, both men in the same places they were before.

Kanan fired once before the gun clicked uselessly in his hand and he tossed it aside. Behind his hiding place, the Inquisitor laughed again.

"Looks like your all out," he teased rising up to shoot at Kanan, "and I dare say that your boy is running out of time."

Kanan tensed before called out, "Ezra?"

Ezra blinked, realizing he was expecting an answer but found his mouth had stopped working. Most of his body had stopped working and if Kanan didn't hurry up and do something then they'd both be dead. He already guessed that he was half dead anyways.

"No," Kanan gasped and his muscles were tense as he rose from behind his cover and snarled, "Shooting him was a mistake."

"Why?" the Inquisitor mocked as he tilted his head to the side like he didn't quite understand, "because you have no one else to die for you?"

"Because I have nothing left to fear," Kanan informed and Ezra wondered what the heck he was talking about when he hurtled something at the man, catching him off guard.

The Inquisitor ducked, whatever Kanan had thrown at him clattering against the ground uselessly. Kanan was already moving though, closing the last couple of feet between them and struck the man. They disappeared behind the crate and Ezra heard shuffling as Kanan managed to kick the gun away.

The weapon spun, clattering against the wall and the Inquisitor must've finally got the upper hand because Kanan went flying into the crate, smashing it as he laid on his back.

The Inquisitor rose to his feet, going over to retrieve his weapon before he growled, "Fools."

That's when Ezra's miracle finally happened.

There was an explosion, rocking the foundation and Ezra whimpered as the shock sent bolts of pain through his arm. Kanan just grinned, or Ezra like to imagine he had, and the Inquisitor's face twisted to something dangerous and ugly as he narrowed his gaze in a glare.

"It's over," Kanan finally said as he rose to his feet and faced the Inquisitor.

"No," the man just protested voice surprisingly even, "You've just unleashed something much, much worst."

He rose the gun to his temple, hand steady.

Ezra blacked out at the sound of a gunshot.

The grave was well groomed, well cared for, and Ezra felt something twist in his stomach as he traced over the names with his eyes. His parents, gone too soon.

Behind him the others stood and he remembered waking up in the hospital to their concerned eyes and he sighed, arm awkwardly tucked near his chest in the sling. They explained once he was conscious enough to understand how the others arrived and started blowing the building up, which seemed a little extensive but he knew that was the only reason either him or Kanan had survived. He passed out when the Inquisitor killed himself, Kanan carrying him out and he woke up in the hospital.

"So… uh, hi mom and dad," he said knowing Hera was restless to leave- having some friend up north that was willing to help them out; a woman with a weird name- Ashoka something, "So I guess I'm leaving soon. Forever. Kind of strange, actually, and there isn't a day I don't miss you both. I love you. I still do."

"Ezra, we have to go," Hera informed him as she shuffled in the grass uneasily glancing around them.

"Okay," Ezra nodded as he rose to his feet and turned to the headstones to ask, "How are you both anyways? I hope it's good. Bye. I miss you."

Then he turned and followed them out of the graveyard with quick steps. Kanan turned around at the gate, causing him to falter and something warm tickled his chest at the man's words.

"Don't worry about your son, we'll take good care of him," he promised before turning and ushering him out from the graveyard.

Behind them, Ezra swore he heard his parents' laughter echo on the word but that was impossible so he said nothing as they hurried in the car that would take them far away from there.

The laugh seemed to carry on the wind.

The End

So this is over, thanks to the wonderful support and love of you guys. You have no idea how I'm happy that we finally finished and I'm finally able to chalk this up to being complete and if the ending seemed rushed then I'm sorry but I tried. I hope you enjoyed this ride as much as I did and, unfortunately, this marks the end of my Star Wars Rebels stories. At least, for awhile. Maybe later, when I have less stuff to do.

You guys are awesome and have been SUPER supportive and patient and I adore every single one of you guys. Now I'm tired and my face hurts and I'm going to sleep forever.