***Sorry for not posting for so long! Writers block had a hold on me! I will be posting more soon though don't you worry! Thanks for sticking with me on this!***

"Poor thing." Zeb muttered. "Doesn't even look older than seven."

Kanan agreed. The girl was skinny. Too skinny to have had proper meals for a long time, if not her entire life, and she was short, probably more so than she should have been, but it didn't surprise him because of the state she was in. Tattered clothes that had probably been worn since before the Clone Wars, bones sticking out everywhere from just beneath her skin. The occasional bruise or scar was the only thing giving her color. Her hair was unwashed and almost as thin as an infant's. "I guess we'll find out how old she is when she wakes up." was all he said. He had a solemn look on his face as he hurried to the medical facility.

Come on, kid. Just hang on. To ease some of her pain and help her condition, Kanan channeled some of the Force. It responded by easing some of her pain. He relaxed slightly, almost tripping over a step before the Force sent out a warning. The Jedi caught himself and jumped to the top of it. He was only a hallway down, but it seemed like a mile.

When the door slid open Hera was just walking out, and she nearly bumped into Kanan.

She stifled a gasp at the child in Kanan's arms. "Oh my gosh. Oh the poor thing." She reached out and stroked her hair. Kanan looked down at her face. Even in sleep her face wasn't at peace. It was contorted in pain and fear. He felt his heart tug in sympathy and pity for her.

"I wonder how old she really is." His voice was absent.

Hera took the girl from his arms. "We'll find out when she wakes up." She sounded certain, and Kanan hoped that she was right. She laid the girl's limp form on the free bed before straightening. Her eyes locked with Kanan's. "I'm going to the cockpit to see that Chopper is following the right coordinates. Call if you need me."

Kanan nodded. "I will."

Hera looked relived. "Thanks." As she walked out of the medical bay, Kanan watched, wondering how she could stay so calm under such pressure. Of course, he could too and often did.

Kanan looked around the room. It was a dreary place, grey and white walls, metal bed frames, smells of disinfectant ambushing his sense of smell. The only soft looking things were the mattresses and pillows. Even the threadbare sheets looked rough to the touch. His eyes found the form of his padawan, keeping his eyes closed but sitting up. He walked over to him.

"Ezra?"

"Nn, Kanan?"

"Yup. It's me."

"H-i…" Ezra's voice was weak, and Kanan knew that there was something off about his voice but couldn't tell what.

"Ezra we need you to look, look around. You're okay."

His eyes cracked open. "Why is everything so bright!" He kept his eyes squinted through the glare.

Kanan sighed. "It's because of your concussion, kid. You're alright."

"Why does my head hurt?"

"Because you have a concussion." His master's voice fell flat.

"Why does my stomach hurt?"

"Force kid, haven't you ever had a concussion before?"

"Where am I?"

"You're in the Ghost."

"Who are you?"

"Wait what!"

"I was kidding about that…"

"Don't kid about that."

"Hehe… I'm kid…"

"Oh Force… Hera get in here I can't deal with this!" His voice carried down the hallway, and within a few seconds her footsteps rang out, walking toward the medical bay.

In another minute, her face peeked into the room. "What's the matter?"

"Ezra is too confused for me."

Hera sighed and walked fully into the room, sitting down on the bed that Ezra was sitting up in. "Ezra?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me, do you remember your name?"

"Yeah, you just said it, Ezra." His voice was slightly slurred as he spoke.

"And, do you know where you are?"

"Medical, thingy…"

"Good. Do you know the name of the ship you're on?"

"Ghost… Right?"

"Yup, that's right. Good job."

"Girl… where is she…?"

Hera nodded her head to the other bed. "She's right there. She's resting."

"Why does my head hurt… it feels funny." He touched the patchwork.

"Easy, don't touch that. Your head hurts because you were hit."

"Oh… I hit Kanan's butt."

"What?" Hera gave a small, motherly chuckle.

"I hit Kanan's butt. With my blaster… it was right in my face."

"Oh, did he trip and fall onto you?"

"No, he put me over his butt."

Hera's mouth turned down in a frown. "Carrying you?"

Ezra nodded.

Hera turned to Kanan angrily. "You what!" Her voice was tinged with disbelief and-scolding? Kanan almost bristled.

"I threw him over my shoulder. Big deal! I carry him like that sometimes! I needed my blaster out!"

"You could have had it out as you were carrying him. He could have bled out! You carry him bridal style! Especially with a head wound! You elevate all wounds so the bleeding slows! Everyone knows that!"
"I'm not a bride…" Ezra mumbled.

They ignored him.

"I didn't think it was that bad!"
"How clueless can you be! This is why I'm the medic around this place." Hera looked at the unconscious girl. "You left the needle in her arm?" She walked over to her arm and gently pulled it out.

"You didn't notice and you're supposed to be the medic? Mother hen." Kanan muttered.

Hera looked up to glare at him. "I'm the one who knows how to treat people around here. That is the end of this." Her voice held warning, and Kanan knew he needed to back down.

"Alright, alright." Kanan shook his head, turning to look at his padawan. "Are you okay?"

Ezra looked at him, puzzled, his eyes still glassy. "Um, okay. I'm okay." His voice was slightly slurred. He put a hand to his stomach. "I don't feel so good…"

"I know, kid. The nausea will wear off. Tell one of us if your head starts to hurt worse or you lose vision in one of your eyes."

It seemed to take an hour before Kanan's words penetrated his confusion. Ezra gave a slow nod. "Alright. Easy. Easy to do…"

Zeb spoke up for the first time since he'd entered the room. "He sure got his bell rung. I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner!"

"So am I!" Kanan agreed.

Hera looked up at the Lasat, her hands stilling for the moment though remaining on the gauze. "Zeb, get to the kitchen. It's getting late and someone needs to cook."

"Why do I have to!" He protested loudly.

Ezra flinched.

"Because," Hera took an exasperated tone. "I'm tending to the girl who is in serious condition, Ezra is in no state to cook, and Sabine is off painting somewhere."

"Why can't Kanan cook?" He demanded.

Stressed, Hera didn't bother to hide her annoyance. "Because we need the food to stay edible long enough to eat it."

Kanan gave an irritated scoff. "I can cook."

"Yeah for a Loth-cat." Zeb said with a snort.

"And you can cook better than me?"

"Yeah, I can." Zeb turned on his heel.

"I can cook… Loth-cat… I had it on Lothal…" Ezra mumbled. "Loth-cat… like kitty cat… it tastes bad like rubber… I'll go and find a kitty-Loth."

"No, Ezra. You'll be staying here." Hera said. "And sitting still." The Twi'lek added, noting that he was still squirming.

"Fi-ine. I wanted to toast a Loth-y-Kitty."

Hera gently facepalmed and shook her head. "There's nothing much you can do for a concussion except keep your head elevated and maybe use an ice pack. I wrapped it and got the bleeding to stop, so that's a good sign. You'll be better soon." She turned to the medical droid. "When he falls asleep be sure to wake him every two hours until all signs of concussion are gone."

It beeped in response.

Hera turned to the little girl. "And tell me straight away when the little girl wakes up."

The droid beeped again.

"Thanks." With that, Hera turned and exited the medical facility, not saying another word.

Two days came and went before Ezra was completely healed, and another ten days after that passed before the girl awoke.

Her eyes cracked open in confusion, looking around her. Her feet found the floor, and on walking toward the door, it opened automatically. She stepped back, expecting someone to walk in, but was surprised when no one did. She walked through it out into the hallway, looking left, then right.

Cissilia felt a jolt of fear, never having been on a ship before. Hearing voices, she turned to her right, walking toward them.

Hera's face lit up. "Cissilia. You're up. How are you feeling sweetheart?"

"I… where am I…?" Although her eyes were half closed they showed glassed over wariness and curiosity. She rested her hand on the counter to steady herself.

"You're on board the Ghost, our ship."

Kanan stood and walked over to the girl, a frown on his face. "You're not well, I can feel it."

"Feel it…?" There were half moons circling her eyes, so dark they threatened to eclipse her entire face, her cheeks flushed in fever.

"I can use something called the Force. It lets me feel other people's feelings, use my mind to move objects, and other stuff."

"Oh…"

He wrapped his arm around her to keep her steady. "Tell me what's wrong kid."

"N-othing… I'm just dizzy and tired…"

"It'll wear off. We sedated you so that you could sleep when you healed so you wouldn't be in so much pain."

"Oh. Thank you… for saving me… I didn't think you'd be able to save me… for healing me…"

"Your parents must be worried sick about you." Hera said. "Is there anywhere we can take you?"

Cissilia shook her head. "I don't have a home… I don't have parents… they died when I was two… other kids on the street took care of me until I got old enough to live without help."

Hera hid her pain. "Would you like to stay with us?"

"Can I…?" Her eyes went to Hera's face, some of the fog drifting from her eyes as hope lit beneath them.

"Absolutely." She replied, before Kanan could object.

"Thank you…" She coughed. "Who was that boy earlier? The one I saw in the hall…? He looked kind of familiar."

Kanan nodded. "That's Ezra. He's fifteen. He's my padawan. My apprentice."

"Is he okay now?"

"He is. He's all better. The concussion lasted for less time than we thought."

Kanan entered the Force, searching for his padawan. Ezra, the girl we found wants to see you. Get into the kitchen.

Coming! Ezra answered, and almost immediately after footsteps echoed out in the ship, drawing closer to the three occupants. In another thirty seconds, Ezra's head peeked into the kitchen. "Hi there." He caught the eye of the Cissilia. "Hi, I'm Ezra."

The girl smiled tiredly. "I'm Cissilia. I'm ten."

"I'm fifteen. I thought you were eight, you look pretty young for ten."

"Oh… I haven't heard that."

"A lot of people think I'm thirteen because I'm so small."

"Oh."

As she spoke, Kanan let go of her.

Ezra gave her a wide grin. "Hey, you want me to give you a tour of this place?"

"Tour…?"

"Show you around."

"Okay!" Her eyes brightened a little.

"Okay, let's go!" He took her wrist and gave it a small tug.

"Thanks Ezra!"

"You're welcome." The teen took her down the hall. "Okay, what do you want to see first?"

"Um, my room?"

"Um, I think you'd be sleeping in this one." With that, Ezra went further down the hall and slid open a door. Inside there was a lone bed with one sheet and pillow, and on the opposite side a closet.

"Oh." Her face fell, before brightening slightly. "Thank you. I'm lucky to have this."

"Is that all the clothes you've got?"

"Yeah…" She was wearing a tattered shirt that rested halfway to her knees, her bare legs scratched and bruised, her shorts barely going below her knees.

"We'll get you new ones."

"Really?!"

Ezra chuckled. "Really kiddo."

Cissilia's face lit up. "Thank you!" She exclaimed, before starting to cough again. There was a rattle in her chest, a wet sound erupting from her lips whenever she coughed.

"Hey, what's wrong!" He asked, and put a hand on her back and shoulder as she doubled over.

"What!" She coughed. "What's wrong!" Another gasping cough. "With me!"

"I, don't know! Just hang on kid…!" Ezra turned to run back to the kitchen, but the girl held his arm tightly. "Okay, okay I'll stay."

"Ka-ka!" Panic shone beneath a sheen of tears. She coughed again, blood appearing on her lips and beginning to drip from her nose.

"Oh karabast!" He raised his head. "Kanan! Hera! Get over here!" In his voice there was fear.

Before he had even finished his sentence the sound of footsteps pounded toward them. Kanan came into view first, a worried look on his face. He caught sight of the girl and his face turned to panic. He almost stopped short, but pushed himself towards her. She needed him and that was that.

He went to his knees, Hera right beside him.

The girl was still coughing blood.

"Just breathe, kid."

Hera took command. "Kanan just focus on calming her down." She spoke into her comlink. "Medical droid! Incoming girl, ten years old. Respiratory distress and coughing blood! Possible respiratory infection."

The girl wheezed a gasp at that, her coughs finally slowing down, blood dripping off her chin, still running from her nose.

Kanan rested her head against his chest, gently pressing down on her chin to help her airway. He softened his voice as he pushed calm through the Force at her. "Take it easy. Take it easy. There's a cure for this and we're gonna get it. Relax kid, you don't have to worry about this. Let us take it on. We've dealt with this before."

Hera added on as she motioned for Kanan to lift her. "We won't let anything else happen to you. You're gonna get better. I promise sweetheart. Kanan told you, you're safe with us, and that won't stop with this. We won't stop until you're better. You'll get through and we'll pull you through. Let it go honey, this is our worry now."

Her wheezes had lessened, and she grasped weakly at Kanan's shirt, most of her little strength sapped from her coughing fit.

"I won't leave you, kid. Don't worry."

"I'm sorry…" Her breath shook as she spoke, close to tears.

"What for?"

"I was a bad girl… that's why this is happening… if I was a good girl… if I was a good girl I would have been safe… if I was a good girl…"

Kanan cut her off, shushing her as he moved along the corridor. He could feel the heat from her forehead through his shirt. Her fever was alarming.

Hera clucked and said gently, "You didn't deserve this honey. You helped us. You helped us, they're the bad guys. You didn't deserve this, I promise. And I promise you won't be going through it much longer. You just hold on." She gave her a stroke on the face.

"We're here." Kanan said, relief evident in his voice. The door slid open automatically, and he raced in, Hera and Ezra following behind.

"Put her down there." Hera motioned to the closest bed and Kanan obliged.

He started to straighten out but sat when she remained holding tight to his shirt. "I'll stay, kid."

"Am I gonna die…?" She peered up through a curtain of sweat dampened bangs.

"We won't let you die. No way."

Ezra squeezed her hand. "We'll have you better in a couple of days. Just hold on."

Kanan shushed her as she whimpered, not moving as consciousness and cohesion floated away from her like a mist, dragging her to the depths of oblivion.

***DUN DUN DUN! WILL SHE LIVE OR WILL SHE DIE IS THE QUESTION! WHAT DOES SHE HAVE? ONLY TIME WILL TELL!***