#awwwww...

Sometimes, just sometimes, he still has those nightmares. The ones that once gave him the scratching scars around his face that have now healed over.

So when his husband is on a trip and he's alone in bed, he wakes up to find his littlest kneeling over him and making promises in a whispering, serious voice. Bobby blinks blearily, barely able to see, and feels around until he can pull his son close to his broad chest.

"Baby, what are you... Oh..." There's the little wooden sword poking against him as his boy complains a little and reluctantly hugs him--to emphasize his ability to protect his daddy.

Kanan ran his finger through his hair, a habit he had tried to diminish. But right now, it didn’t matter.

Hera noticed his unrest. She wanted to look into his eyes; that always helped her figure out what was bothering him. But there were no aquamarine eyes to stare into.

“What’s going on?” Hera sat next to him,

Kanan sighed, “I’m worried about Ezra.” 

Hera smiled, gently, “Shocker.”

Even Kanan gave a half-smile at that. He grasped her hand tightly, making sure she wasn’t going anywhere. Silly, yes, but he never knew these days. His world was literally an endless black hole.

She squeezed back, “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know,” Kanan began dejectedly, “Ezra’s forgetting everything I taught him, and now the-there’s no Ahsoka...”

Hera had a strange suspicion that Kanan would be crying if it wasn’t for his lack of sight.

“That’s not everything...” she pushed.

Kanan let out another frusterated sigh, “Ezra has such great potential. He’d be a great Jedi, if--,” Kanan brought his hands to the white bandage around his scarred face.

Hera opened her mouth, but nothing came out. After a moment of silence, she spoke, “This is not your fault.” She thought of the raven-haired boy who blamed himself. “This isn’t anyone’s fault.” She stared straight at him, though she knew he couldn’t see her.

“How can I teach him now?" Kanan's words were on the brink of sounding broken. 

Hera hardened her expression. She would stay strong for her Jedi. 

"Kanan," She demanded his attention, "You brought Ezra back safe without your sight, you got rid of three inquisitors without your sight--" 

"Actually that wasn't exactly me,” he began. 

Hera fixed him with a hard look, and even without his sight, he felt it. 

She gripped his arm tightly, "You defeated Darth Maul literally minutes after you lost your sight." She smiled, "Your sight may have left you, but the force never will." 

Kanan said nothing, and Hera was preparing another line, when Kanan looked up, meekly,

 "Thanks...I guess I just needed to hear that from someone else." 

He grinned that devious smile Hera knew so well. "Besides, Ezra doesn't want the “best Master,” he wants me." 

Hera couldn't help but laugh. 

They sat there in silence-

Until Kanan felt a hard punch on his shoulder. 

"What was that for?!" Kanan groaned, knowing Hera's right hook left a fairly good sized bruise. She smiled slyly, "That's for being an idiot." 

Kanan chuckled. 

Kanan found himself slipping away, into the comforting arms of the force, after many years of rebellion and fighting. He only regretted one thing. His hands reached to touch the white bandage. He hadn’t gotten to see his crew, his family, before he died. 

Kanan awoke, confused, but centered. There was a strange sensation, almost a feeling, a feeling that told him to...

He reached up, and carefully removed the bandage. He was welcomed with the soft light of the sun. 

Wait...

Kanan’s face broke into a grin as he realized he could see. Colors that he hadn’t seen in so long were everywhere: from the soft blue of the sky, to the dry tan of the sand. The shroud of darkness had been removed.

But immediately that grin died.

He was gone. He couldn’t tell his family the good news. 

His family.

Immediately, he was plagued by images. 

A young man, a smirk on his face, raven-hair pulled into a ponytail, his beautiful, blue eyes filled with mirth,

a woman with brightly-painted hair, and colorful armor, her face more mature, 

a lasat, older, but just as gruff and lumbering, 

an old droid, orange and yellow, same as always, but with a few more dents, 

and a twi’lek.

 A twi’lek that had bags under her brilliant green eyes. She was older, but still beautiful.

He was shocked to realize these were his crew members. The one’s he hadn’t laid his eyes upon for years. He was almost at the point of crying, something he hadn’t, couldn’t, do when he was with them. 

He watched as the older Ezra flirted with the older, gorgeous young woman that must be Sabine. Karabast, he had missed her work. He inspected it now, marveling at the gorgeous new patterns. 

He watched as they gathered around a mural on the side of the Ghost. There, an Old Jedi was depicted, aquamarine eyes, and a blue blade. 

It was him.

Hera, reached up, a sad smile, and brushed her hand on the cheek of painted man. Sabine bowed her head. Ezra stared straight into the eyes.

Kanan moved in closer. 

Ezra shifted, and Kanan realized he somehow knew the older Jedi was there. 

The force was a strong thing, but the love he felt for this group of people was stronger.

Ezra looked up in the air, seemingly straight at him, a sad smile. 

He wouldn’t leave them. Ezra knew it. The rest of the crew knew it. Kanan knew it.