(So, I haven't been keeping up with the Path of the Jedi arc, but here's something I think you'll like to fill in the space.)

Ezra had been seeing things. Not visions, not dead people, though Zeb liked to tease him about his visions. It was…different. Not a vision of the future, but more certain. Unchangeable. Visions of the past.

It wasn't random, but it wasn't predictable.

It started with the old holodisk, hearing that conversation between his parents and Tseebo. He had never heard it before, and it had spiked nostalgia and a bit of spite straight into his heart, which he had finally managed to let go of on that asteroid base.

Then he had touched the Holocron.
Sure, the Force was strong in that little cube, and it felt almost as if it shocked him like a frayed wire every time he touched it, but this time, it knocked Ezra off his feet and into another dimension, literally.

He'd only wanted to investigate it. To study how the seams came apart and rejoined, how the technology functioned. It was such a strange little gadget; half Force object, half engineering tech.
So Ezra waited till Kanan and Hera were out on a supply run, and the rest of the crew was occupied: before sneaking into his Master's room. He found the cube, no problem, but this time when he reached for it- the jolt of power was different.

He landed on his rump with a gasp, his mind reeling as the Force flowed through him like never before. He felt…emotions- ones he knew but couldn't quite identify with, like they weren't his own. He felt overwhelmed and confused and so frightened, but he didn't know why.

Then he saw things, his vision washed in a hazy blue cloud. He saw from the outside but felt everything. Stars dotted the night sky and there was a brilliant orange flicker of fire, casting shadows all round him. The shadows grew.

A woman sat next to a teenage boy. They sat on the ground, in front of the fire. She pulled out a bronze cube from her Jedi robes.

"Take this Holocron."

Ezra was too numb to understand, but her smile was so comforting and familiar, and he felt his arm reach out for the Holocron anyway-

The woman's hand squeezed his arm, and the Force flowed through him, mixed with confusion.

Blaster fire, lightsabers. Death and fire. White armored men surrounding Jedi. A starship being shot down, spiraling into an explosion.

A brown cloak billowed out, a green blade clashed with laser shots- holes burned through the Jedi's chest.

A pair of blue lekku swished and a Twi'lek woman's face twisted up in shock and horror. Fire. The armored men closed in, and the Twi'lek fell to the ground.

"Run!" The familiar woman ordered, her brown eyes wide and terrified. A flurry of blaster shots lighting up the world. The galaxy. Everything was burning.
"I'll be right behind you."

She lying, Ezra thought numbly, too drowned in horror to feel much else. The boy ran, and he felt his feet strike the ground, felt the tears hitching in his throat. His cloak billowed behind him. Laser fire shot past him. He swung a familiar saber out to block a shot destined for the small of his back.

PAIN. He turned around.

The woman hit the ground. From the top of the hill, he could still see the smoke from the lasers, smell the cauterized flesh.

"Cut the kid down," One armored man ordered another.

A ship, the swirling tunnel of hyperspace. Huger.

Guilt.

He grit his teeth, swallowing tears as he cut through braided hair.

"Take the Jedi instead!"

Fear.

Ezra's head hurt. His back hurt like he had been shot. Everything ached with bitter sadness.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and it got even worse. The pain coursed through him, all the anguish and a feeling of familiar suppression. He was dimly aware of the color green and the smell of Kanan's aftershave.

All of that…was inside Kanan. It was Kanan. Now it was flowing through Ezra and it hurt.

"Ge-get away from me!" Ezra was too confused and in too much anguish to feel bad for the wounded look on Kanan's face. "It hurts!" he cried, struggling away from burning hands. Ezra felt so culpable, so guilty. Why was he here? Why was he alive when everything else was in ashes?

It felt like every memory that had been tainted with the blood of the past, every time he had bit his tongue to keep from screaming; melted down into grief and forged into a pure beam of pain, so sharp it pierced straight through him.

It was a tangible silent cry for help that had been held back for years.

It was indescribable.

Ezra could feel the tears soaking his skin, burning his eyes.

He could feel Kanan's Force signature pushing against his own. It was normally calming, but now all he could feel was Kanan's suffering, all he could see was the woman hitting the ground repeatedly like a broken holo image. Sometimes she had blue, blue eyes and black hair. Sometimes her skin was green.

He wanted it to be over and he wanted to tell Kanan that he understood.

"Run!"

He wanted to run away. He should be running away. He was so afraid.
No, that's not me. Ezra struggled against the cloud of panic, filling his mind. I'm not the one who's afraid! It's Kanan- it was Kanan. He wouldn't run, he couldn't run, he...would he run?

His knees shook and he found the only control he had was to pull them into his chest and press his forehead against them, rocking back on his heels. Trying to discern what were his feelings and what were not. Trying to untangle his memories from the burning and the blood. I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid. I am not afraid.

"Ezra."

There were hands again- but they weren't Kanan's. These hands were soft, with callouses on the first knuckle on her palm- From gripping the yoke of her ship too tightly, too often, no doubt. They were gentle and cool headed and filled with a bright light of hope. Some of the pain washed away like the tears she wiped off his cheeks.

"Hera!" Ezra gasped, snapping his head up, hearing his own voice sound ragged and cracked in his ears. He blinked trying to clear the fading visions of blood and blaster fire from his eyes. "Help. I- I don't-"

Her answer was gentle "Shushhhhh" that silenced his sobs. Warmth embraced him and pulled him away from the corner, away from the cold walls and away from the memories.

He felt calm flood his bones and he was suddenly so tired, so weary. He felt like he'd like he'd lived a hundred lifetimes and each one had ended in fire-

"They all died. Hera." He heard himself whisper, not really sure that he wanted her to know it in the first place. He squeezed his eyes tight. "They all died."

"I know, Ezra." She replied sadly, holding him a little tighter and he felt the gravity returning, "I know.

She rocked him, and Ezra was reminded of the time he'd fallen and skinned all the flesh of his knee, and how his mother had wrapped him up and rocking him gently.

He knew he was probably too big and too heavy for Hera to be holding, but he couldn't will himself to let go.

"No! It's all mixed up! You're not my mother!" Ezra shouted suddenly, struggling free of Hera's hands and withdrawing back against the wall.

He blinked, sucking in hard air and now realized the crew was all here, watching him with varying levels of fright and worry. Hera was squat on her knees, her arms held out and empty from where he'd torn himself away, her face surprised, and hurt. Sabine, Zeb and Chopper were all huddled in the doorway, all looking concerned and awkward. And Kanan-

No, Ezra couldn't look at his Master right now. What does it feel like to run? Ezra wished he didn't know the answer. Would I still run?

Ezra really didn't know the answer to that question.

Ezra pushed himself to his feet and quickly barreled through them- heading for the cargo hold.

They parted, and Ezra felt Sabine's gloves ghost against his shoulder as Kanan said "No- let him go. Give him space."