"Ezra, Ezra, I need you to listen to me."

He shook his head, finally hearing Master Skywalker talking to him. "Are there rags on the Phantom?"

Nodding, he moved silently to get them. He didn't know what they were for, but he could hardly object. Ezra didn't want to speak, so he obeyed instead.

While he searched drawers, Anakin delicately lifted the mask from Kanan's face, exposing the burn that was etched across his face. Maul's lightsaber hadn't burned any deeper than his eyes, and for that, Anakin was grateful. He lifted a water canteen to himself and unscrewed the lid.

"How bad is it?" Kanan asked tentatively.

Anakin spoke quietly, knowing that he was setting the mood for the group. If he started to panic or worry, the other Jedi would likely follow his lead. He had to be calm and controlled until the past few hours were processed. "Not great. If a lightsaber wound doesn't kill you in five minutes, you're not going to die, but that also means you're going to be in a world of hurt. You aren't going to like this."

He sighed, but he didn't seem scared, thankfully. "Well, that's nothing new."

"That's the spirit," Anakin encouraged.

"Here," Ezra said, holding out a few rags.

Taking the first one, he explained what he was doing so Kanan would know, and Ezra would learn. "The worst part about burns is that they keep damaging tissue even after the initial touch." He poured water over the rag and wrung the excess out. "The water is going to help draw the heat out, but it's going to sting."

Kanan nodded, bracing himself. Anakin held the damp cloth to his face and applied as much pressure as he thought the Jedi Knight could handle. He groaned through gritted teeth but didn't react otherwise. The cool water felt nice against the burn, but that was the only pleasant part. He might have flinched more if he didn't remember that Ezra was watching.

As it were, Ezra's eyes were flitting from Kanan to Anakin. Now that his master was being taken care of, the Padawan watched Master Skywalker for his reaction. As long as he didn't seem worried, he had hope that Kanan was going to be okay. It was hard to read his face, though. Master Skywalker's eyes were narrowed and focused but sharp. Ezra couldn't tell if he was worried or angry, or both.

It would make sense if he were angry. Ezra was glad he wasn't looking at him because he wasn't sure he could hold up under that stare, not when he knew that he was to blame. Master Skywalker meant that anger for him. A better Padawan wouldn't have screwed up as badly as he did.

For the next five minutes, Anakin would turn the towel, so the dampest part of it was pressing against Kanan's face. After a while, he would switch rags, dampening the next one before he held it to the wound. By the end, Kanan wasn't reacting as much to the stinging and seemed to be doing better.

Wordlessly, Anakin removed the last rag and set it with the others. He closed his eyes, clearing his mind. He needed to be absolutely calm for this to work well. Very lightly this time, he pressed two fingers to Kanan's head, right above the center of the burn. As Ezra watched in awe, very slowly, the burn began to glow softly. This lasted for the better part of thirty seconds until Master Skywalker removed his hand again.

Kanan breathed out deeply, his shoulders dropping as he let go of the tension there. When Ezra looked again, the blistering wound had reduced to a scar. It was discolored and fresh, but it didn't look nearly as painful.

"Force healing," Anakin explained, still in the soft voice from before. "I did my best to study it more after the Jedi Order fell. I've had to use it a few times already."

"Maybe that should be our next lesson together," Kanan suggested, smiling weakly.

"Can you see?"

It took a bit of effort, but Kanan managed to crack open his eyelids ever so slightly. Ezra was glad he hadn't done so earlier, though. They looked bad enough right now, all white and blurred, but it probably had looked much worse five minutes ago.

Kanan's face fell as he shook his head. Anakin sighed, his head falling slightly. "I was afraid of this. The Force can heal the wound, but it can't undo the damage that's been done. It will still be painful, and I don't know if your sight will return."

He stood up slowly. "I'll call ahead and let the base know. They'll want a medic to take a look at it. You should try to rest until then."

As he walked to the pilot's seat, he didn't look back at Kanan or Ezra. He quietly secured a connection with Chopper Base, sending a transmission out detailing Kanan's injury but assuring the recipients that all three Jedi were alive.

Ezra stared at the floor. He couldn't look either of the other two in the face, so there was nowhere else to look. Shame was clawing at him from the inside, and though he was able to push it down, for now, he knew it wasn't going to last. He only hoped that he would get home before he lost it so he could hide in his cabin while he broke down.

Despite not being able to see, Kanan could still tell that his apprentice wasn't alright. It wasn't very often that Ezra remained completely silent. If it hadn't been for the Force, Kanan might have feared that he wasn't on board. As it were, it was clear that although his body was sitting next to him, Ezra's mind was still on Malachor. "Ezra."

It took a moment, but his response came, a very tentative "Yeah?"

"We made it," he reminded the Padawan, even though the only thing he could still see was the ghost of a harsh, red lightsaber. "We're okay."

He didn't know if Ezra believed him, but the next thing Kanan knew, he was leaning up against him and gasping a little, as if he was trying not to cry. Kanan held onto him, the only way he could know he was really there. "There's nothing we can do now. It's over," he whispered, trying to believe it himself. "It's over."

From the front seat, Anakin pretended not to pay attention. They didn't need his input or his reassurance right now; they needed each other. Ezra needed to know that his master was alive, if not completely well, and they were going to make it to tomorrow. Just as importantly, Kanan needed to know that the person he was trying to protect, the friend he was trying to protect, was okay. Ezra was one of the biggest reasons Kanan was willing to fight so hard, why he was able to keep it together this long. Jedi had to master their emotions during battle to not react because of them, but the fight was over, and now they had to recover. All bets were off the table, as far as attachments were concerned.

As someone who had once been the master and the apprentice in a situation like this, Anakin knew better than to interrupt or separate them. He knew that one needed the other in both directions. As Obi-Wan's student, he had associated his master with safety and rest. No one had the ability to reassure Anakin the way he could. The world could be falling apart, literally crumbling to pieces, but Anakin would only worry if he saw Obi-Wan was scared. For a long time, especially when he was younger, that was the way it had always been. Obi-Wan was his rock, just like Kanan was Ezra's.

That changed when he became a master. He then had to be a rock for someone else. He had to act bravely and calmly for Ahsoka's sake because he knew she was looking to him just as he had looked to Obi-Wan. This didn't surprise him, but what had caught him off-guard was Ahsoka had become something to him too: a lifeline. As long as Anakin knew where Ahsoka was and that she was okay, he could take control of any situation and work to get both of them and everyone else to safety, but the second she went missing or got hurt, he panicked. His apprentice hadn't given him the security that his master did, but she had given him courage. Anakin had wondered if all students gave their teachers courage and hope and if that was why they grew so close.

He didn't wonder anymore; he knew it was true. In a crisis, the need a student felt for their teacher was mutual. It went both ways. The student needed their teacher to believe everything would be okay, and the teacher needed their student's trust to believe in themselves. Anakin didn't understand why Obi-Wan was so concerned for his safety growing up. Now he knew. Obi-Wan had needed him just as much as he needed Obi-Wan. They needed each other in different ways, but no less than the other.

When he looked back again, Kanan was asleep, but Ezra was staring off into space. "You okay?" Anakin asked quietly, not wanting to startle him. It was a rhetorical question; he knew the kid wasn't okay. Not really.

Ezra didn't look up as he responded. "I'm sorry, Master."

Anakin wasn't shocked by his words, but he wasn't going to let him wallow in his guilt either. Not completely, anyway. "So am I."

It was only then that the Padawan found the courage to look up at his eyes. Ezra still looked scared, despite having already left Malachor, the Inquisitors, Jadis, and Maul behind them. He's scared of me, Anakin realized, scared of how I'll react until just now.

Should he be? Was Anakin mad at Ezra? If he was, he needed to make sure he didn't push Ezra away because of his mistakes. If he wasn't, then he couldn't get mad later. He could teach and help correct the mistakes, but he couldn't say that he wasn't mad now and get mad later. He couldn't be a hypocrite.

It would be easy to let his anger at Jadis and Maul spill out and land on the Padawan. It would be very easy to let his anger at Yoda, who had brought about this whole mess in the first place, land on Ezra. Anakin could nitpick every minuscule action that had taken place on Malachor and identify exactly what had gone wrong, and start pointing fingers. Ezra would likely never do those things again. He would also likely never trust Anakin in the same way again. Anakin still remembered his slight fear of those who were unforgiving when it came to his mistakes.

That wasn't the Jedi Master Anakin wanted to be. He had worked so hard to earn Ezra and Kanan's trust, and he didn't want to throw it away over the mistakes they all made. He had spent the past few months learning about them, teaching them, and trying to get close to them, all so that they would trust him. It had taken time, and intentional investment, but Anakin had formed the relationship with Kanan and Ezra that he had hoped for since the beginning when he first met them.

When Kanan had once asked him what he would be a Jedi Master of, he answered that he would be the master of failure. How could he, as someone who had made more than his fair share of mistakes as a Padawan, condemn Ezra? How could he do the thing he wished others had not done to him when he failed to be a perfect Jedi?

Trust was more important than anger. Anakin made the decision, at that moment, that he didn't want Ezra to be so afraid of angering him that he wouldn't come to Anakin for help. There would be time to learn and correct later. Being right was not more important than being kind.

He rose and sat on the other side of Ezra, making no sudden movements. Anakin sat close enough that he could have hurt or punished Ezra if he wanted to but kept his hands turned down and relaxed on the seat. At the same time, he didn't try to push too close. Ezra could close the distance between them if he felt safe, but he didn't have to.

The Padawan had tensed when the Master joined him, but when he didn't say anything, he risked a bit of a joke: "What, you don't have a lesson this time?"

"No," Anakin shook his head. "Not this time."

Slowly, Ezra believed him. Nodding, he laid down, resting his head on Kanan's leg gently so he wouldn't wake his master. Anakin rubbed his shoulder for a bit before heading back to the front of the Phantom, letting the two of them rest.

He had decided. He wasn't going to be a Master who rebuked others for their mistakes. From now on, kindness came first. Anakin hoped Ezra would never be afraid of him again.