Fingers grasped in his hair. They pulled and pulled, dragging him across the floor. Cold feminine laughter reverberated through his ears. The sound tore at his nerves. He tried to scream, but no sound came out.

The fingers trailed down his cheek, scratching at his skin. They traveled down to his throat and tightened.

Ezra's eyes flew open. Panic surged through him. It took him a few moments to realize the ghost of hands crushing his throat weren't real. His mind eventually caught up, and the tension drained from his shoulders.

Just a dream. Not real. He swallowed and turned over, burying his face in the pillow. His eyes drifted close.

Gentle fingers stoked his hair. He let out a contented noise and murmured, "Sabine, that feels nice."

A low chuckle sounded next to him. His entire body stiffened, his blood turning to ice.

"Ready to play?" purred a familiar voice, her lips brushing against his ear.

The fingers curled in his hair and yanked.

"No!"

Ezra hit the floor with an abrupt thud. His heart threatened to explode from his chest. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gulped for air, but there was no relief.

Just a dream. Just a dream. Why then could he still hear the Inquisitor's laughter ringing in his ears?

He rose shakily to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom. His fingers grasped the sides of the sink to steady himself. Tears welled up and fell, distorting his reflection.

"You're okay, you're okay. She's not here." The words that escaped from his lips did little to comfort him.

These nightmares were relentless. Every night since the incident. Always the same. He'd wake up still able to feel her hands woven through his hair, the sharp tip of a knife pressed to his throat.

Kanan's electric razor sat on the sink. Ezra reached for it with trembling hands and turned it on. He'd never used one before, but it didn't matter. Gone, it all needed to be gone. The noise of the razor was dull in his ears. He abandoned all attempts of controlling his breathing.

Without his hair, he'd finally be safe. She couldn't use it against him. The long strands fell to the ground, pooling at his feet.

When he finished, he blinked at his reflection, fully realizing what he'd done. The buzzing of the razor sounded louder to him now and he quickly shut it off.

He opened the door and flinched. Kanan was sitting against the wall. He looked up at the sound, his haggard expression immediately softening. His hair hung limp in his face. Dark circles lay underneath his eyes.

"Ezra—" he started to say.

Ezra ignored him and went back to his bed, intent on never leaving it.

Kanan sat on the bed, his elbows propped up on his knees. He ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know what else to do, Hera."

"There has to be another way," she replied, her tone clipped. "The lease is in my name. You never gave any of your employers an address."

Kanan lifted his eyes from the floor to meet hers. She leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. There was a tightness in her mouth that indicated she was biting the inside of her cheek. Kanan was familiar enough with the expression to know this conversation was not going to end in his favor.

"Hera," he said breathlessly. "They found him once, they can again. We can't stay here."

"Then let me come with you." She closed the distance between the two of them, taking him by the shoulder. "Please." Her voice broke on the word.

Kanan lay his hand on hers, stroking it with his thumb. "It's not safe. You're not a Wielder."

He realized as soon as the words left his mouth it was absolutely the wrong thing to say. She tore her hand from underneath his and took a significant step back.

"What, so you think I can't protect myself?" Though she spoke quietly, there was a distinctive edge in her voice. "May I remind you, the first time we met I was saving your skin."

Kanan squeezed his eyes shut, wincing. His head throbbed from lack of sleep and it was taking severe restraint on his part to keep his anger from rising to the surface. This was the fourth iteration of this conversation, all of them ending poorly.

"You know I don't think that." Kanan opened his eyes. "But this is different. We were lucky to get out of there. If Ezra hadn't—" He broke off. The image of the kid's face after he'd taken out the girl was still fresh in Kanan's mind. He exhaled before continuing, "Hera, the Inquisitors kicked my ass. This is unlike anything you and I have ever faced."

"If your mind's made up, then what are you waiting for?"

"I wanted to give him a little time," he answered softly.

That was partially true. Ezra had been through an ordeal that Kanan couldn't possibly begin to imagine. Uprooting him too fast when he was still trying to cope would only make things more difficult. But Kanan also knew a week wasn't enough time. Kriff, he didn't know what an appropriate amount of time would be. But they needed to act, and they needed to do it soon. He just couldn't bring himself to leave Hera. Any time he tried packing, his chest grew tight to the point where he couldn't breathe. The thought of not seeing her every day, not hearing her voice, not feeling her lips on his, left him hollow inside. But this only added to his guilt. How could he be so selfish? Was his own happiness more important to him than Ezra's life?

He'd considered sending the kid to someone else. Someone who could protect him much better than Kanan ever could. Cal or perhaps Ahsoka? Kanan trusted them with his life, either one would be more than capable of keeping Ezra safe. But deep down he knew that was more of an excuse than anything else. He'd promise to protect the kid, he couldn't just pawn him off so he could get back to his own life. And he honestly didn't think he could even go through with it, he cared about him too much. No, Ezra was his responsibility.

"I don't understand how they even found you both," Hera said, breaking him out of his thoughts. "It's too much of a coincidence an Inquisitor was just there and happened to overhear you two."

Kanan frowned. This too had been bothering him. How exactly had they found them? Kanan had managed to stay hidden for over a decade. It wasn't until he'd taken in Ezra that he'd so much as glimpse an Inquisitor. None of it made any sense. Ezra was smart enough to avoid detection and it wasn't as if they could have seen him using his ability.

"No, they already knew about Ezra," Kanan said. "The male Inquisitor was already following him. He was watching him in the shop."

"Maybe he could sense him like you can."

Kanan shrugged. "It's possible," he replied slowly. "But Ezra's right. I've never heard of another Wielder with two gifts. Have you?"

Hera shook her head. "No, but you don't exactly advertise it."

Kanan flattened his palms against his knees. "It doesn't matter how they found us. They did. And now I just need to decide what to do."

The ice that had melted momentarily from Hera's eyes was back. "Well, when you figure it out," she snapped, placing a bitter emphasis on the word, "At least give me a heads up so I can say goodbye to Ezra." With that she left. And while she didn't exactly slam the bathroom door, it definitely closed louder than normal.

"Karabast," Kanan muttered. Arguing with Hera was literally the last thing he wanted to be doing. But he couldn't bear the thought of putting her in danger no more than he could the thought of never seeing her again. No matter what decision he made, both of them would end up hurt. He rubbed his temples before standing up from the bed. He needed to go for a walk and try to clear his head.

Kanan passed Ezra's closed door on the way to grab some coffee from the kitchen before leaving. He briefly considered knocking on it to check in but decided against it. Physically the kid was fine. The doctor had found nothing alarming aside from a few interesting looking scars. But emotionally? That was an entirely different story. It had been about a week since the skirmish with the Inquisitors and Ezra had barely spoken to him. Kriff, he'd barely even looked at him.

He'd been sleeping poorly. On more than one occasion Kanan had heard fitful whimpers come from the kid's bedroom. And then a few days ago Kanan had woken up around three in the morning to the sound of his razor buzzing. He'd gotten up and knocked on the bathroom door, the noise of the razor now mixed with unmistakable frenzied breathing. Ezra hadn't answered. Kanan had sat down on the floor until the door opened. When it finally did, Ezra stepped out, his eyes red rimmed. He'd shaven off his hair down to a buzz cut. It was a poor job and parts of it were uneven. Kanan had tried to get him to talk, but the kid brushed him off without a word and went back to his room. After that it had been impossible for Kanan to fall back asleep.

Kanan froze in the kitchen doorway. Ezra sat at the table, pouring over a comic book. A sight which on its own it was hardly troubling. No, what caught Kanan's attention, was the butter knife that the kid was idly twirling between his fingers. The motion was fluid and precise.

Some things linger. It can be really subtle. He may not even notice it's happened.

Cal's warning echoed in his ears. He'd have to keep an even closer eye on the kid. The scars from this nightmare weren't ones that could heal.

Kanan left before Ezra could realize he had been there.

Ezra lifted his head from the comic book, feeling eyes on him. He expected to find Kanan there, but the kitchen was empty. There was a faint thud as the front door closed, followed by a sharp clang. He frowned and stared at the knife he'd dropped, only vaguely aware he'd even been playing with it. Unease spread through his stomach and he stood up abruptly, accidentally tipping the chair over. It made a loud noise as it hit the floor, but he could barely hear it over the pounding in his ears.

"Ezra?" Hera called from the other room. A moment later she appeared in the doorway. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he answered, picking up the chair. "Sorry."

She smiled at him, but there was no mirth in it. Her eyes were slightly pink, mascara smudges casting shadows underneath them.

It didn't take superpowers for Ezra to know that something had been different between Hera and Kanan this past week. He hadn't heard them arguing or even the hint of a raised voice. He didn't need to; the small details were screaming at him. No witty banter, no kisses on the cheek. When they spoke to each other around him, it was cordial rather than warm.

And Ezra knew it was all his fault.

Hera seemed to guess what he was thinking. "Hey, let's do something fun today," she said, her smile becoming more genuine.

"You don't work today?"

"My assistant manager can manage the garage. It's what I pay her for anyways."

"Yeah, that would be great." He half meant it. Part of him just wanted to crawl back into bed, but he got the sense Hera needed a distraction just as much as he did. Besides, he hadn't left the apartment in a week. "Let me just get dressed."

Ezra had been wearing different combinations of sweats and t-shirts all week, so it felt strange wearing jeans. It was nice having options of clothes to choose from. After four years on the streets he was still getting accustomed to having a full closet. He'd allowed Hera to take him shopping and she'd gone slightly overboard. He was pretty sure he now had enough pair of gloves to go a month without repeating a pair.

Standing in front of the mirror, he frowned. While his image had never been a priority the past few years, he'd caught a few glimpses of himself. His reflection was almost unrecognizable now. With all the food they kept piling on his plate, the sharpness of his face had rounded, his frame filled out more. It made him look older, or at the very least his actual age.

The haircut also helped, though it was a terrible one. Hera had offered to fix it for him, but the suggestion had set off another panic attack. No, it was better if no one else touched his hair.

Hera was waiting for him in the kitchen, her customary mug of tea in her hands. She'd touched up her makeup, erasing all evidence of earlier tears.

"Ready?"

Ezra nodded and started to slip on his jacket. He paused, a thought suddenly occurring to him. "Uh, is it smart to be leaving the house?" Both Kanan and Hera had come and gone from the apartment the past week, but maybe it was best for him to stay inside.

"I think as long as we go someplace open and crowded, we'll be okay. If they knew where we lived, they'd have barged in already. But it's totally up to you. We can order pizza and watch a movie. I just thought you might want to get some fresh air."

Flashes of an empty alley, a syringe in his neck, the sound of quiet laughter rose to the surface. Ezra gritted his teeth, driving the memories to the back of his mind. He couldn't keep hiding. Eventually he'd have to move on with his life.

"No, I want to get out of here."

The day was surprisingly warm, so they decided to grab food and sit at a park. It was relatively crowded. Though they sat a distance away from the playground they could still hear the screams of kids playing. Normally not the most pleasant of sounds, but after a week of sitting in his room alone, Ezra was comforted by the presence of other people. Still, he couldn't stop himself for checking the faces of everyone around him, almost expecting to see the familiar cold smile of the Inquisitor.

"Have you heard from Cal?" Ezra asked. He wasn't exactly eager to practice again, but it was the only way to ensure nothing like last week would ever happen to him again.

Hera shook her head. "No. He's been out of contact, pursuing a lead."

"So, what exactly does the—" he paused, trying to think of the name he'd heard her use, "—the Rebellion do?"

Hera glanced around before answering, her voice quiet. "Depends. Some people go undercover to gain information. Cal does that a lot, which is why we probably haven't heard from him. Others find safe places for Wielders to go into hiding. Sabine's brilliant when it comes to hacking so she sometimes helps obtain records and such."

"What do you do?"

"Before I met Kanan I'd take temp jobs in E.M.P.I.R.E. offices. You'd be surprised how easy it is to go unnoticed as a secretary. Men—no offense," she added, the corners of lips turned upwards, "tend to ignore the woman dropping off their coffee. I'd overhear their conversations and then pass that information along." She took another bite of her sandwich before continuing. "Unfortunately, they've gotten smarter since then. Too many plans sabotaged. Going undercover is significantly more dangerous."

"Which is why you stopped?" Ezra asked.

Hera didn't reply right away. "No," she finally said. "Kanan changed everything. I couldn't bear the thought of somehow getting caught, leading them to him. He'd already been through so much."

Ezra suppressed a shudder, recalling the overwhelming imprint Kanan had left on the book. "What happened?"

"That's not my story to tell." There was a distant look in her eyes for a second, but she blinked, and it was gone. "Anyways, these days I mostly collect and pass along information. There's still so much about E.M.P.I.R.E. that doesn't make sense and we're trying to piece everything together."

"Seem pretty cut and dry to me," he said, his tone dripping with bitterness.

Hera pursed her lips. "Things don't add up. Reports show that some Inquisitors join voluntarily, and some are forced…" she trailed off, an uncertain expression on her face.

"I'm okay, we can talk about it." Ezra gave what he hoped was a convincing smile.

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "They only select Wielders with powerful abilities to become Inquisitors. Others they experiment on. We've always assumed they dispose of the rest, but we can't find any proof of that. And something the girl told you has been nagging me. Maybe we have this all wrong."

"She said they wanted to make me stronger," Ezra said slowly, processing the words. "But if you're an organization hellbent on ridding the world of Wielders, you wouldn't want to make them even more powerful."

"Exactly. It's not the smartest move to torture a bunch of people with superpowers and expect them to stay on a leash. I don't believe we're seeing the bigger picture." She was quiet for a moment. "Ezra, I know you're angry with Kanan for not telling you the truth. But I promise you he didn't want to scare you."

Ezra started, thrown off by the change of subject. "I'm not mad at Kanan," he said tentatively.

How could he explain it in words that would make her understand? It was more than mere shame; it was a constant presence. Every thought, every emotion tainted by it.

If he closed his eyes, it was like being back in that moment. Ezra might not have been in his right mind, but the memory was still sharp as any other. Looming over Kanan, hearing him plead for his life. Ezra had been the reason behind that fear. And for the briefest moment he had taken such pleasure in it. Someone as strong as Kanan had been afraid of him. The feeling was intoxicating.

Hera was studying him, her face soft and pained. Almost as if she were expecting him to shatter into pieces any minute. Ezra averted his gaze. Force, he was so tired of their sympathy. They meant well, but it only made everything worse. Poor damaged Ezra. Always needing to be saved, even from himself.

The wind picked up, stinging his cheeks. He realized he'd been crying, and he ducked his head, ashamed of the tears.

Hera gently touched his arm. "Ezra, you and Kanan are so alike." She gave him a faint smile. "You're both beating yourselves up. I promise you it wasn't your fault."

He tried to kill Kanan, and the man blamed himself? How pathetic.

Ezra swallowed, pushing down the thought as if it were bile. These flashes of contempt kept happening, but they didn't feel like they belonged to him. His emotions this past week had been all over the place. It made no sense. The Inquisitor should have faded from his mind by now, but she kept slithering her way into his thoughts. It terrified him.

He kept telling himself he should leave. Wait for the quiet of night and slip out. Let Hera and Kanan get back to their lives. It was the right thing to do. They didn't need the burden of protecting him. But he was scared. On his own the Inquisitors might find him again. Only this time there would be no one there to save him.

Of course, there was another option. It loomed in the back of his mind, easy to ignore but still ever present. While it wouldn't be as horrific as ending up tortured by Inquisitors, it wasn't exactly that far behind. If he went through with it, he'd be betraying everything his parents had ever taught him. And the chances he'd even be able to find M—

"Ezra?"

He blinked. "Sorry," he mumbled. "What were you saying?"

Hera's eyes locked on to his. "I know you've only known us for a short time, but we're here for you. You're family. No matter what happens."

The warmth of her words sparked something within him. For the first time in a week he felt like he could truly breathe. The gnawing guilt that had settled in his stomach subsided. It was far from gone, but at least it was a start.

"Karabast," Kanan swore as he dropped his keys for a second time. His walk had eventually led to finding himself in a bar. He'd only had a few drinks, but his brain felt somewhat light.

The third time he managed to get the door open. A mewling mound of orange fur swerved in between his legs as soon as he got inside. "Chopper," he hissed, nearly tripping over.

Ezra's door was closed with no light coming from underneath. Kanan stood with his ear pressed to it for a few seconds but couldn't hear anything. The kid desperately needed a decent night's sleep. Hopefully, the absence of whimpers meant he was finally getting one.

The door to the other room was also closed. He reached for the knob, only to find it locked.

Perfect. Kanan rubbed at his eyes and stumbled back to the couch, resigned to the fact he'd have to sleep in his clothes. He had just settled comfortably on the couch when he heard the bedroom door open.

"What are you doing?" Hera asked.

"I thought maybe you didn't want me sleeping in the bed," he answered, sitting up.

"Force, Kanan, we're not some cliché TV couple. Did you really think I'd lock you out?"

"Sorry," he replied, slurry slightly.

Hera stared as if she was really seeing him. "Are you drunk?"

He winced at her tone and shook his head. "No, I'm not. Just tipsy. Promise."

Something unreadable flickered across her face before it softened. Sitting down next to him, she put her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't want to keep fighting, Hera."

"Me either." She pulled back to meet his gaze. "I get that you want to protect me. But we've always been strongest together. If you think leaving is the best choice, I'm coming with you."

"I know. Tomorrow the three of us are going to sit down and talk. Ezra deserves a vote." He kissed her softly on the forehead. "So, why was the door locked?"

Hera laughed. "I was working on something and Chopper kept bothering me. Damn cat is too smart."

Kanan snorted and leaned his head on Hera's shoulder. His eyes slid closed as she ran her fingers through his hair. All the anxiety from the past week melted away. It would be back tomorrow, but for now sitting in silence with her was enough to pretend everything was alright.