(Set shortly after A New Dawn, when it's just Hera, Kanan, and Chopper on the Ghost. So about five years before the Star Wars Rebels show starts.)

"Visions are . . . difficult. Almost impossible to interpret."

"What was the last vision you had?"

"I saw this bratty kid that constantly caused me trouble."

A searing pain tore at Kanan's focus. It hurt so much. He couldn't concentrate, could barely breathe. A blaster bolt to the chest would do that.

If it had damaged his lungs . . . well he didn't want to think about the consequences of that. Because if that had happened, well, he wouldn't have to think about those consequences. Or rather, he wouldn't be around long enough to.

"Kanan. Hold on. We're almost there." Dear, beautiful Hera. She'd been the one to pluck him out of the fire fight on a hijacked hoverbus, get him back to the Ghost, and nearly to his bunk since they didn't have a medbay.

"It hurts," Kanan rasped.

"I know. But you're going to be alright. Just hold on."

A promise she couldn't keep and they both knew it. How much damage the blaster bolt had done they wouldn't know until they got his shirt off. And normally Kanan would be making wisecracks about her finally giving in and tearing his clothes off, or how he knew she'd just been dying to get in his bunk.

It was no secret he had a thing for her. But he'd started toning down how strongly he'd been coming on to her lately because it was clear she didn't reciprocate and because it made him feel like a lecher. But nevertheless, this was a stressful enough a situation to merit a relapse to his old ways, if only he could start spouting out pickup lines without feeling like his lungs were on fire.

A thrum of bitterness buzzed through Kanan's veins. Part of the reason he'd been hanging out with Hera so long was in hope that she'd come around to his charms. The other parts were that he was in love with her ship, that she was a good friend even if she wasn't interested in him, and that when he was working with her, he felt more alive than he'd been doing deadbeat jobs and hiding from the Empire like he'd been doing ever since the Jedi Order fell.

Right now none of those reasons seemed like a good enough excuse for him putting himself through this abuse. When exactly had he signed on to fight the Empire? Oh that's right, he hadn't.

"Finished."

"What? Kanan?"

"After this. Finished. Next rock. I'm off."

He didn't think that he could hurt worse than he was now. The look on Hera's face proved him wrong.

"Alright. If that's what you want. But let's get you taken care of first," said Hera. She hit the door to his cabin and it slid open to admit them.

Kanan collapsed onto his bed as soon they reached it, his arm slipping off from around Hera's shoulders like an Adegan eel, it was so slick with his own sweat. At least he hoped that was only sweat and not blood. His vision was blurry. Dark. He was close to losing consciousness. He could tell.

Hera was still talking to him. He knew that but he couldn't hear her words. Just her voice. Everything was so dark.

And then it wasn't.

"Dad! What are you doing?" asked a laughter filled voice.

Dark blue hair. Heavenly blue eyes. Tan skin. A mischief filled smile.

Kanan stared in wonder at the small teenage boy hurrying toward him, one thought filling his mind above all others. Did that boy just call him . . .

"Dad?" Now those azure eyes were filled with exhaustion and a little confusion, but they were definitely looking up at Kanan. They were somewhere else. Not the dark street they'd just been on, with fireworks crackling above them. The boy was lying in a bed that Kanan was seated at the edge of, reaching down, touching the boy's, his son's, head in a comforting motion, and there was this feeling in his chest like nothing he'd ever felt before.

Image after image flashed through Kanan's mind, all of them containing this boy, his son. They stood together on a rural planet, in front of a seemingly endless grassland. They flew together, in the cockpit of some small craft, as the stars turned into lines as they jumped into hyperspace. His son sat on the ground, grinning, a tooka circling him, rubbing its head all over the teen affectionately.

That feeling in Kanan's chest just grew and grew until he felt like he was going to burst, as he stared at his son, heard his voice, saw the complete trust and adoration in his eyes, like he thought his dad was a hero.

"Kanan? Kanan can you hear me?"

He was back in his bunk. No, he'd never left it. What he'd just seen . . . a vision.

"Hera."

"Shh. Just rest."

"I –"

"You're going to be okay. That bolt took a chunk out of your side, but it missed anything vital. Two weeks and you'll be good as new. If you still want off my ship then –"

"Hera, I'm going to have a son."

That startled Hera. "You – you're what?"

"I saw him," Kanan said. "I had a vision."

"Kanan. Are you sure that wasn't –"

"It wasn't a hallucination. It was sent by the Force," Kanan insisted.

He saw interest sharpen Hera's expression as he openly spoke of the dewback in the room. She had known he was Force sensitive since that incident on Cynda. He knew she hypothesized he'd had Jedi training, but it wasn't something they'd ever spoken of. He didn't volunteer information, and she hadn't insisted on him revealing it. If she had, Kanan probably would have taken off long ago.

That was a part of his past that was too dangerous to bring up and too painful to reminisce on. For his own safety, he'd done his best to forget everything the Jedi had taught him.

Now, for the sake of his unborn, still unconceived son, he had to remember.

"It's a Jedi thing. Sometimes the Force shows us something we need to know. And just now, it showed me that sometime in the future I'm going to have a son."

"Oh. Okay." Hera didn't look as certain as she was pretending to sound.

Kanan didn't care.

That feeling was still in his chest. And he couldn't help but wonder, was this feeling love?

That was something that the Jedi Order didn't teach. He'd never known his real parents. He'd had friends, and his master, and he had felt attachment despite the order's advisements not to. What he felt now was similar to what he'd felt for them. Except warmer. Stronger. More pure.

"I already can tell he's going to be a handful, but every grey hair he gives me will be worth it. He's got – is going to have dark hair, bright blue eyes, and a honking big nose. He's perfect in every way," Kanan said proudly.

"I . . . I see," said Hera, still sounding neutral.

Either she didn't fully believe Kanan, which was understandable, he granted, since he'd been near delirious with pain, or there was something else. That couldn't be disappointment in her expression, could it? Why would she be disappointed he was going to have a son . . . unless . . . no, that wasn't likely. Even if that look had entered her expression when he'd mentioned what color his boy's hair was going to be.

There was no way Hera was upset because him having a child with a human woman meant that they weren't going to have a future together.

Maybe she was glad because she was finally getting let off the hook. Kanan planned on keeping an eye out for blue haired human women from now on, because there was no way his son got that hair color from him. The attraction he felt for Hera would pass. Especially now that he had much more important things than romance on his mind.

"I'm withdrawing my resignation."

Hera said nothing but the look she gave him was both interested and curious.

"As long as you're still finding jobs to cause problems for the empire, I'll be sticking around. At least for the time being," Kanan said.

A new feeling of purpose was branding itself on his consciousness. A sense of urgency about making a difference.

"I need to make sure the galaxy's a safer place for my son."

So, uh, yeah. I was rewatching the Vision of Hope episode and my attention was caught by Kanan's line at the end, that his last vision had been of Ezra, presumably before they'd met. Which got me thinking.

Kanan's first glimpse of Ezra in the vision I wrote was on Empire Day at the parade, when Ezra pretended Kanan was his over-patriotic dad to get him off the hook with that stormtrooper.

That other glimpse where a sleepy (injured?) Ezra called him Dad was one I made up, but is something I could see happening since Ezra definitely sees Kanan as a father figure, and in a hazy moment might "mistakenly" call him that.

Though Disney would have to answer for the hundreds of fangirl hearts that would spontaneously combust if that happened, mine included.