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The Shattering

Summary:

After Count Dooku botches an attempt to trap Anakin per his master’s orders and kills Senator Amidala instead, Ahsoka is left to pick up the pieces as her own master deals with the blow of losing his wife. He starts down a very dangerous path, dragging them all with him as he becomes engulfed in darkness. Ultimately, Ahsoka will have to make the choice to save him or let him go, but her hope that she’ll bring him back is fading fast.
I don’t intend for this story to be very long, or as long as my others, but it will be a bit darker (not just dark side but dark themes of life) than most. It will deal with some of Anakin’s more abusive, manipulative and violent tendencies. But I’d wanted to know what would happen if Padmé had been killed at some point during the Clone Wars and how that might change things between Anakin and Ahsoka. Would they drift together or fall apart?
Also, it’s been temporarily consuming all my attention at the moment, so my other stories might be on hold until I finish it. But since it seems to be flowing constantly right now, I’m hoping that won’t take very long.
If you're like me and use music to get you in moods: "LP - House on Fire" fits this story perfectly.

Chapter Text

          Where was he? He should have been here by now. She paced around in agitation. Something was wrong, she knew it. She’d felt something big awhile ago, and then nothing… nothing but his absence. He wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be. No, she would have felt that for sure. But hurt? Knocked out?

          “Commander?” She jumped when Rex set his hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

          “It’s okay, Rex, I’m just on edge,” she said, trying to take a deep breath. “Master Skywalker should have checked in by now.”

          “Well you know the general,” Rex said coolly. Yes, of course she knew the general. Probably better than most. But even knowing he was reckless, impulsive and intense sometimes, he never missed a check in. At least not when they were splitting up, at least not when the stakes were this high. Something was wrong, she was sure of it. Had he been captured?

          “Press forward, I’m going to circle around,” she ordered, turning to head in the opposite direction.

          “But sir, the plan?” Rex questioned.

          “Follow it,” she said distractedly. “I’ll meet up with you as soon as I find the general.” She ignored the rest of his protests and took off running as fast but as carefully as she could. She didn’t want to think about what would happen leaving her troops to fend for themselves. But she couldn’t ignore the feeling that was pumping through her. He was hurt, she was sure of it. It wasn’t just her imagination, or her constant worry for him. Something had happened, something bad. And mission or not, she couldn’t leave him behind to complete it. 

          She searched for him with the force, but she was having trouble pinpointing where he was. The feelings were chaotic, but also somewhat muted, as though they stirred the air but unconsciously. She made it back to where they’d split up in half the time, then slowly turned to follow the direction he’d headed with his troops.

          Her comm beeped and she answered it quickly, hoping it was him. “Commander.” Her gut sunk when she heard Rex’s voice instead. “I just heard from Fives.” She sucked in a breath, feeling suddenly lightheaded at his tone of voice. “He said General Skywalker got an unexpected call from the Chancellor. He didn’t hear what he was told, but it had clearly distressed him. But then without explaining anything, he’d run straight into the building, apparently telling them to stay back, or that he’d be right back. They’ve not seen or heard from him since.” Her throat constricted and she gasped a little, unable to make her voice work. “Commander?” She shook her head, unable to answer. “Ahsoka?” he said a little softer.

          “Tell Fives and his group to stay put, I’ll be there shortly.”

          “What about us?” Rex asked.

          “Find a way to their position, we’ll regroup there.”

          “But…”

          “That’s an order, captain,” she said a bit tighter than she meant to.

          “Yes, sir,” he said and clicked it off.

          What had the Chancellor told him that would make him run stupidly into a building full of Seps with no backup, troops or help? And how the kriff was she going to get him out of there? The reason they’d split up to begin with was because the building was so heavily guarded, they’d needed to divide the enemy, attacking from several sides. Now they were going to have to make a frontal assault together or they’d have absolutely no chance getting anywhere. Master Kenobi would probably tell them to retreat and call for help, but time was of the essence. There was no doubt that if Anakin had done something that stupid, he’d been captured, or injured, or worse…

          She shook herself angrily. No, he was still alive. He had to be. She wanted to be mad at him, berate him for being so stupid, so reckless. But she was too afraid right now, her anger fizzled out as worry drowned her normal snippiness. A million scenarios were running through her head, each progressively worse until she finally caught up with his group and had something to distract herself.

          “He went in there,” Fives pointed out a door about two clicks away. “He wasn’t making a lot of sense when he left.”

          “He sounded angry,” Jesse murmured. “More than normal.”

          “But he made it inside the building?” she asked.

          “Yes, we watched him disappear inside, haven’t heard from him since.”

          “Why didn’t one of you call us?” She hated how rude her question had sounded. It wasn’t their fault that Anakin had done this, but she was annoyed nobody had thought to tell her.

          “Well, we knew something was odd about it, but General Skywalker does things like this all the time,” Fives started carefully.

          “We thought maybe he knew something we didn’t, or that he’d already communicated to you what he was doing.”

          “He didn’t,” she muttered.

          “So, what now, Commander?” She wanted to just run in after him, believing sheer will would get her to his side, but she had to be smart about this. Getting killed trying to rescue him wouldn’t help anyone. But also realistically, she might actually have a better chance getting inside alone. She took the monoculars from Jesse and zoomed in on the building, scanning for another way in. She wouldn’t follow him exactly if she went in alone, she’d use stealth; the ventilation system.

          “How far away is General Kenobi?” she asked, trying to stay as calm as she possibly could. Her and Anakin had been instructed to start the ground assault, hoping they could secure the fort before Master Kenobi arrived with reinforcements. And they might have been able to if Anakin had stuck to the plan. But since now he was nowhere to be found, she highly doubted they’d secure it without his help.

          “ETA in about thirty minutes,” Rex reported obediently.

          “We can’t wait that long, we have to get inside,” she said in frustration, pacing again. “But without Master Skywalker, we can’t afford to split up.” She stopped pacing and looked at Artoo that had wheeled up, beeping in concern.

          “What’s he saying, sir?”

          She didn’t think it was possible for her gut to sink lower. But this, this hurt. She’d always known that Anakin had been in love with the senator of Naboo for pretty much as long as she’d known him… but Artoo had just told her that he’d run recklessly into the building because the Chancellor had told him that Padmé had been captured. She stared at Artoo for a few minutes in confusion. But that didn’t make sense… She’d just seen her friend before they left on this mission, she was getting ready to head to Alderaan for a peace conference, how would she have ended up here?

          “Give me a moment,” she whispered, beckoning Artoo to follow her out of earshot of the troops. “What did the message say, Artooie?” Artoo beeped and whirred, telling her that the Chancellor had claimed the senator had been hurt enroute to Alderaan when the Seps had attacked her ship. Supposedly they’d captured her and brought her here to see Dooku, apparently unaware that the Republic was about to launch an attack.

          She suddenly understood what she’d felt earlier, and why she hadn’t heard from Anakin since. This was personal, this wasn’t about the mission or anything that the Jedi would approve of. He’d told them to stay back so they didn’t get in trouble for his own attachments. She turned and headed back to the clones waiting in confusion.

          “Call General Kenobi,” she ordered. “Tell him to delay his attack.”

          “But sir-”

          “I want Fives and Jesse to scout the perimeter, counting troops and reporting back. Artoo, I want you to slice into their system and give me a map. Rex, you and the rest of the legion are going to head to these coordinates and cause a distraction after Fives and Jesse get back.” She poked a couple buttons on her wrist comm and transferred the information. “Don’t take unnecessary risks, this isn’t about kill count. Just get them as far from the building as possible, then retreat into the woods.”

          “What about you?” Rex asked.

          “After Artoo gives me the map, I’m going to sneak through and find Anakin. Once he’s secure, I’ll signal the rest of you to call General Kenobi.”

          “But the mission?”

          “The mission will have to wait,” she said. “I need to get Anakin, I mean Master Skywalker, out of there before Master Kenobi gets here. Then we’ll regroup and figure out how to secure the objective.” She watched them exchange glances, but no one said anything else. They knew too. She didn’t have to say it. If she didn’t rescue Anakin before Obi wan showed up, he’d never hear the end of lectures from his former master. Master Kenobi wouldn’t care or understand why he’d done it, only that he had. He’d endangered his mission to rescue someone he was attached to and she wasn’t going to let him get in trouble for that.

          “What if General Kenobi questions why?” Rex whispered to her after the others had started coordinating and preparing for their new orders.

          “Tell him we met more resistance than we expected and are having to re-strategize.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but the reason they were re-strategizing, he didn’t need to know.

          Rex nodded knowingly and set a hand on her shoulder. “Be careful, commander,” he said, and she thanked him.

          “Come on, Artooie,” she called the droid. 

          After getting the map and any other additional information about the building from Artoo she could, she sent him back to help Rex and the others. Then she scaled the nearby wall and slipped into the small exhaust vent, pulling it closed behind her. She dreaded what she’d find as she slinked through the building as quietly as she could. Even with a distraction from the clones, she knew she’d still meet plenty of resistance. If Dooku was in fact here, he wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave the building defenseless. Not if he’d captured Anakin and wanted to use him to bargain for something.

          She didn’t want to think about what could happen if she didn’t succeed at getting him out of here. She also didn’t want to question whether or not she’d been wise to delay Master Kenobi. As frustrating as he could be sometimes, having him to help rescue Anakin sounded really good right about now. He was the Negotiator after all. That was what everybody called him anyways. But she knew in her gut, if something had happened to Senator Amidala, Anakin would be inconsolable, and Obi wan would only aggravate it. Though she wasn’t thrilled about having to pick up the pieces after a blow like that, she knew if she didn’t, things would get way, way worse.

          And if Padmé had in fact been hurt, captured and brought here, and Anakin hadn’t been able to save her… she dreaded the shattering of his confidence and what that would mean for the future.

          She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself down but moving through the small ducts was slow going and it gave her way too much time to overthink everything, increasing her anxiety ten-fold with every slow progress forward. Occasionally she’d have to stop and check the map or look around to see if there was any sign of him. Fives and Jesse should have completed their recon by now, so any time now there should be indication that their distraction was working. But none of the droids seemed to be moving and as she crawled along as quietly as possible, she hoped that she’d be able to get Anakin out of here.

          She glanced through the grate into a room and was about to move on when she looked back. Something had glinted in the low light and as she squinted, she saw his lightsaber. But to her horror and fear, it was in several pieces. She glanced around, but there was no sign of him. There were no droids nearby as far as she could tell so she carefully moved the grate and summoned the pieces to her hand, before putting it back in place. She looked over the pieces. It appeared to have been cut in half by another lightsaber by the look of it, then parts of it were squashed and bent as though thousands of heavy metal feet had stepped on it. That wasn’t good, not good at all.

          She slipped the pieces into the pouch on the back of her belt and tried to calm herself down. Dooku was here. He must be. Maybe she should call Master Kenobi after all. But she pressed forward anyways without lifting the comm. She had to find him before she called for backup. She had to know what they were up against.

          A loud explosion rocked the building, echoing through the small ducts. A sudden rush of smoke blew through them and she coughed, choking on the dust. She heard droids moving in the direction of the sound and tried to stay as still and quiet as she could as they went by. She hoped that had been the clones’ distraction. But it was a bit more than she’d bargained for, and confined in the ventilation system, she was having trouble breathing.

          She crawled faster as more smoke came through the duct. Her eyes started burning and she was having trouble seeing. She heard voices and squeezed everything closed, holding her breath for a moment as they went by. Nothing about Anakin though. She was starting to get lightheaded and had to risk getting out of the ventilation system or she was going to suffocate on the smoke.

          She listened for a moment near a grate, heard nothing and swung down, landing lightly in the room. She ducked behind some crates as more droids went by and tried to catch her breath. She saw a message blink on her comm. According to Rex, the explosion had started a fire and the southern part of the building was engulfed in flames. He was telling her to get out of there. She messaged him quickly that she wasn’t leaving without Anakin and pressed on.

          If the southern part of the building was on fire, she would not be able to escape the way she’d come in. But before she could even think about escaping, she had to get what she’d come here for.

          “But sir, what about the prisoner?” She heard the grating mechanical voice of one of the standard battle droids.

          “Leave him. The building is going to be coming down any minute now, and he’s still unconscious,” came the unmistakable drawl of Count Dooku. “His fate will be the same as the senator. It will be a huge blow to the Jedi order and the Republic.”

          Oh no. Anakin. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stay as calm as possible, but another distant crash, made her start running forward again. She swallowed the lump in her throat and hid only when droids passed by. She was running blindly though, through the burning building. She had no idea where he was and if he was unconscious, she couldn’t sense him.

          She stumbled into a room after trying to outrun the flames. The building was so full of smoke now she could hardly breathe. She blinked through it and saw two figures lying on the ground. She crawled to Padmé first, looking for a pulse, but then she set her hand down sadly and tried to blink away the tears. From the feel of her skin, she’d been dead for awhile. There was nothing she could do for her now, so she turned her attention back to her master. He was lying on his back not far away. Dried blood was caked on his forehead, there were cuts and slashes through his robes and the glove over his mechanical hand was in tatters.

          She felt a rush of relief when she saw his chest rise and he let out a grimace, his face screwed up in pain. “Master!” she called, running towards him and shaking him. He didn’t wake up. She shook him again, but nothing seemed to rouse him. Her panic got the best of her and she commed Rex, “call master Kenobi!” she ordered. “Tell him we need a medical evac immediately!”

          “Yes, sir!” Rex replied obediently, and she went back to checking over Anakin. She tried to roll him and saw blood pooled behind his back. His grunt of pain though had clenched her chest. All frustration at his recklessness had been forgotten as she frantically tried to prepare to move him. In normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have dared to move him until Kix or another medic could assess the situation, but she didn’t have a choice if she was going to get him out of here alive.

          “Artoo!” she practically screamed into her comm as she called the droid. “Read my position and tell me how to get out of here!” The droid immediately started beeping instructions. She wrapped some gauze around his torso from her small medpack on her belt. It wasn’t much but it would have to do. “Okay,” she said breathlessly, getting to her feet and staggering under his weight. Progress was slow because she had to drag him along with her. She couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her at any given time, but she dutifully followed Artoo’s instructions.

          She lost track of time as the fear pumped through her. At least, she supposed, it wasn’t a crippling fear. Just enough to keep her buzzed and unhappy. She didn’t want to think about what Anakin’s mental state would be when he woke up, especially since she had a pretty good idea he’d seen Padme die or laying there before he’d been knocked out. If she’d had help, she would have insisted they carry out her body too. But since she was alone in here, she had to cut their losses and save the person that was still alive. 

          She silently mourned for Padmé as the time seemed to drag on forever. After awhile, she had no idea if she was even making progress, or if she was anywhere closer to the door. She started feeling faint after awhile, coughing from all the smoke and staggering under his weight every time the building dropped debris nearby. She could still hear Artoo, but it felt like he was getting quieter and quieter.

          Then she heard it… the unmistakable sound of a nearby ship. The sudden rush of hope renewed her strength and she stumbled out of the building seconds before it seemed to collapse behind them. She wasn’t sure what all was happening, but she heard Obi wan, Cody and a few other clones. She felt herself lifted back to her feet, an air mask put over her nose and mouth. She tried to cry out for Anakin, but she saw Master Kenobi’s face swim into view.

          “He’s being taken care of,” Obi wan assured her and she relaxed into the sudden rush of exhaustion. “You did well, Ahsoka.”

Chapter Text

          It had been very difficult to keep her emotions in check when she’d given her report to the council about what had happened there. She’d chosen every word carefully so that Anakin wouldn’t get in trouble for what happened. But she had a sense that when she’d reported Senator Amidala’s death, the entire council knew the truth in-between the words she actually spoke. Though gratefully, none of them had pressed her further and she’d been allowed to return to his bedside in the healing ward. 

          Calling Master Kenobi there in such a way was probably the reason the council didn’t believe her report, but in that moment of weakness, she’d been too afraid for him to trust herself to get him out of there. And she hoped she wouldn’t end up regretting it.

          Obi wan had insisted on continuing her training while Anakin recovered, but it had been difficult to focus. He’d not woken up since they’d returned, though the temple healers had fixed up his body practically overnight. They didn’t give her updates, though she begged for them, but she’d spent a lot of time listening in when they updated Obi wan or Yoda. 

          The healers believed that the trauma he suffered had somehow trapped him inside his brain. They were working on trying to ease him out of it, but progress had been slow. She wasn’t a healer, nor was she brazen enough to assume she knew better, but she knew the real cause. And it was one she’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t tell anyone.

          Anakin didn’t want to wake up. She felt it every time she was near him. Every time she slid her fingers between his, seeking comfort, but also trying to give it. She felt it every time she fell asleep hunched over the edge of his bed or curled up awkwardly in the chair next to it. She even felt it in the nightmares she had about that day. He didn’t want to wake up because losing Padmé had so completely shattered him, that existing without her was something he didn’t want to do.

          There were times where she had the strongest urge to shake him and scream, ‘but what about me?’ She knew he loved Padmé, but wasn’t she worth living for too? What about Rex and the 501st? Weren’t they worth it? What about the Chancellor? Or Obi wan or the people? There were times she wondered if she should have left him inside that building. If she should have let him go like she was supposed to and completed the mission anyways. And then there were times the mere thought of leaving him behind had sickened her beyond reason. 

          So yeah, maybe she understood why he didn’t want to wake up. If she’d lost him, she’d probably be doing the same thing. But understanding it, didn’t stop the hurt that he seemed to have forgotten her, or left her behind, while he moped inside his head. 

          She spent every moment she could next to his bed. But the healers kept trying to shoo her out. Even Obi wan had tried to pull her away, forcing her to run missions with him, to return to the war. But after this went on for several weeks, he’d finally given up trying to drag her away. The council had lectured her repeatedly on her attachment to Anakin, and that it was getting in the way of her duty. They’d punished her repeatedly to keep her busy and out of the healing wards. But she kept going back anyways. It didn’t really matter what they did to her, she couldn’t leave his side or focus on anything else. Other than her bare minimum studies, chores and forced training sessions, she was always in the healing ward. 

          At night she’d pretend to go to her room and then sneak back in to be near him. After doctor Nema retired for the night, she’d take his hand in hers and talk to him. Sometimes she’d cry, sometimes she’d beg him to come back. Sometimes she’d try to assure him that she was keeping up with everything and sometimes she’d just sit there in silence, rocking back and forth, wondering what would happen to her if he didn’t come back.

          Those were the hardest nights. That often ended with her at some point, crawling into bed with him, putting his arm around her and holding him tight. It wasn’t appropriate, nor was it allowed, but after awhile she’d stopped caring what was allowed or not. She just wanted him back. Obi wan was trying hard, but she missed Anakin. She missed his patience, his understanding, the soft way he spoke to her, the way he believed in her, the way he pushed her to be better. She missed their long talks late at night, the times they meditated together, the way they often worked in comfortable silence on ships or gadgets. She missed his smile, his stupid laugh, his cocky smirk, his jokes, his games. She even missed his pain and the way she could distract him from it. She had a feeling even if he did wake up, it would be a very long time before she’d see any of those again. Maybe she never would. 

          Though Master Kenobi was probably the main person trying to pull her away from Anakin, she felt his own mourning. He missed Anakin too. He’d never admit his attachment, never whisper the words aloud, but she felt it. Maybe he kept trying to pull her away as a way to distract himself too. But as time wore on, the weight they both carried got worse and worse. Even he was losing hope that Anakin would ever wake up. Rex checked in often, but the 501st had been reassigned to another general. The clones weren’t allowed into the healing ward to see him. Not that they’d want to anyways, she was sure. They’d repeatedly told her they missed her too, but nothing they’d said had cheered her up. 

 

—-

 

          A month passed in frustrated impatience and restlessness. After going through the routine of pretending to go to bed, she’d snuck back to the healing ward. She crawled through the ventilation duct to his room but froze before going inside. Masters Yoda, Kenobi and Windu were standing with the doctor, discussing Anakin’s condition and their options.

          She clasped her hand over her mouth when she heard the report. Doctor Nema was convinced without extreme treatment, he wouldn’t wake up at all. She informed them that his condition was deteriorating, and his body was starting to shut down. None of them knew why. The wounds he’d suffered had healed perfectly. The smoke had caused no long-term damage. There was nothing abnormal about his brain scans. But for whatever reason, he was dying. Well that wasn’t quite how the doctor had put it; she’d said he was expiring, as though his existence had run its course and his body was spoiling like old food. 

          She’d sworn she wouldn’t tell them what she knew, but if it could save him, should she risk it? Surely they’d felt it too, even if they didn’t know the cause. 

They left the room, still talking and she waited until they were gone and took a few deep breaths before dropping out of the vent and resuming her vigil by his side. Except this time, she couldn’t get comfortable in the chair and eventually she crawled into the bed next to him and held him tight.

          “Anakin,” she whispered like she did every night. “I know you’re hurting over what happened. I know you’ve lost the will to live, but...” she choked up and tried to swallow her tears. “I need you,” she breathed. “I know I’m not Padmé, I know I can’t replace her, but I love you too. I know you’ll never look at me the same way, I know you’ll never care about me as much, but I promise I’ll take care of you. No matter what. I think she’d want you to keep fighting. I think she’d want you to keep standing up for everything she believed in. Please don’t give up. Please come back. Please come back to me.”

          She cried herself to sleep like she did every night.

          She awoke with a start a few hours later to a hand on her shoulder. “Say goodbye to him, Ahsoka,” Master Kenobi said. Her eyes widened at his words and she panicked, bringing her hand up and setting it on his chest. It took a moment, but she finally felt it rise. For a second she’d thought Obi wan was telling her he’d died while she was sleeping.

          “What are they going to do?” she choked, unable to let go and crawl out of the bed.

          “What’s best.” It was all Master Kenobi would say about it no matter how she begged and pleaded with him not to let them. “I know it’s hard for you to understand but leaving him like this is far more cruel. There’s been no improvement in his condition.”

          “No, you can’t! Please don’t take him from me!” she cried. Showing emotion in front of the others was something she’d sworn she wouldn’t do, but the idea that they were going to unplug him was too terrible for her to hold it in anymore. 

          “Ahsoka,” Master Kenobi said sternly. “It’s time to let go. I have told the council that I will continue your training. I know this is hard for you, but you need to say goodbye now.”

          “I can’t. I won’t!” she spat at him, far more venomously than she meant to. “He’s still in there. I can’t let you kill him.”

          “Padawan Tano,” Obi wan said forcefully, grabbing her arm. She jerked free of his grip and growled before she thought better of it. It had come from somewhere deep inside her, some instinctual reaction she’d had no control over whatsoever. And in normal circumstances, she might have fallen back in embarrassment. But right now, it felt like she was standing between Anakin and certain death, and she could not bring herself to back down, no matter what the consequences. “Now listen here, child...” he started, but trailed off when she bared her teeth at him. 

          “You’re willing to give up on him so easily, just like everyone else,” she said tightly. “None of you care what happened to him. None of you care why he’s hurting. No wonder he doesn’t want to wake up. He knows all that’s waiting for him is an endless lecture!” 

          “Of course we care,” Obi wan said stubbornly.

          “But you’re going to let them kill him just because he’s an inconvenience to you now!”

          “That is not at all the reason, child-”

          “I’m not a child!” she spat, feeling anger rise in her. “And I’m tired of everyone treating me like one. Anakin is special. He’s not like the rest of you, and that’s a good thing! If he was, then anybody could have been the chosen one! But the force chose him. It chose him because he’s different. But none of you care. You think you can beat it out of him. You think if you lecture him or berate him enough, he’ll become as boring and useless as the rest of you. But at least then he wouldn’t be a danger to your precious way of life!”

          “Ahsoka-” She ignored the warning in his tone.

          “Has it ever occurred to you Master Kenobi, that love is the answer? Why else would the force have chosen someone that loves everyone so deeply? Why else would it have chosen someone that knows all about what it’s like to suffer and is willing to do anything to protect other people from the same fate? This war won’t be won with fighting, it will be won with the heart, with love. And the Jedi don’t care about love. So maybe the Jedi aren’t the ones that should be leading it.”

          “Love makes you irrational,” Master Kenobi said, crossing his arms. “Look at you right now. You’ve completely blinded yourself to reality. Your love for Anakin means you can’t see that he’s dying. You refuse to accept the truth because you’re not thinking calmly and detached about it. You’re insisting that he should continue to suffer simply because you are selfishly unwilling to let him go. There’s a reason why Jedi don’t love. If they loved everyone in every circumstance, they would never be able to do what is necessary to perform their duty; for the greater good. Anakin’s love for the Senator is what got him into this mess to begin with. His irrational behavior endangered the mission, his padawan, his troops, and quite possibly the entire war. And yet still you defend him. If he’d been able to keep a clear head, likely your mission never would have failed. And very possibly, the senator would still be alive. Now, I’m warning you one last time, Ahsoka. Say goodbye to Anakin. Do not follow in his footsteps unless you wish to end up in the same predicament.”

          She stared at the doorway in disbelief at just how quickly Master Kenobi had dismissed everything she’d said. Yeah, maybe Anakin had got himself into this mess, maybe he got into a lot of messes because of his attachments. But she also knew she wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for his willingness to protect and save people he cared about. Neither would Obi wan probably, or countless others. No matter what the rest of the Jedi said, she could not be made to believe that love was the problem.       

          She wasn’t being selfish for defending him, she was being realistic. There were so many people Anakin could save. To let him die now was, in her mind, the most selfish thing they could do. To blind themselves so completely to the reality that he could singlehandedly turn tides in this war. That his power and determination repeatedly won battles others would have failed. That even when the odds were stacked against him, he’d somehow ended up on top. The desire to save somebody that valuable wasn’t selfish in the least. As far as she was concerned, saving Anakin was saving the Republic, and the people. But it was clear no one else would ever see it that way.

          She was about to come up with a plan to kidnap him from the healing wards when she felt something touch her back. She spun around so fast, she almost fell off the bed.

          “Anakin!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck and collapsing onto him, hugging him tight.

          “Oof,” he gasped in surprise. She started crying again and she felt his arms tighten around her back. “Ahsoka?” he whispered hoarsely. “What’s going on?”

          “You’ve been in the healing ward for a month. They were about to unplug you,” she choked, holding him tighter still. He grunted a little but didn’t tell her to let go. “I wouldn’t let them.”

          “Thank you,” he said softly, rubbing her back. 

          “I’ve missed you so much,” she said, finally sitting up so she could look at him.

          “I’m right here,” he said, bringing his hand up to wipe away her tears.

          “I know Master,” she started. “But sometimes, sometimes it felt like you weren’t really in there.” She blinked and looked up at him slowly. 

          “Well, I-” Anakin stopped talking and she turned around when she heard footsteps returning.

          “Yes, I know Master Yoda,” came Obi wan’s tired and annoyed voice. “I told her that too, but she refused to listen to me.”

          “Then deal with this, I must,” Master Yoda replied.

          “Ahsoka,” Obi wan said, coming into the room.

          “Punish me if you must, Master Kenobi, but leave him alone,” she said stubbornly. 

          “Explained the situation, he has,” Yoda said, tapping his gimer stick. “Obey, you will.”

          “I may not be a master yet, but she’s my padawan. And as far as I’m concerned, I should be in charge of punishing her,” Anakin said from behind her, and she almost laughed at the way both of the masters had snapped their gaze to the bed as she stepped out of the way so they could see him very much awake and alive, despite, it seemed, their best efforts to give up on him.

          “You’re, awake...” Obi wan stuttered in disbelief. “We were told you wouldn’t wake up.”

          “Well, Ahsoka told me you were going to kill me off. I figured I should get a say in that decision.” His voice was surly and somewhat sarcastic, but she’d felt his anger beneath the words. And she was suddenly sure that wherever his head had been, he’d heard a lot of the things she’d said to him this past month. Though she wasn’t exactly sure what had tipped the scale to make him finally decide to come back. Not that it really mattered to her why he was back, she was just grateful he was in fact, back. Even if she knew things were going to be really hard for him for a long time. 

Chapter Text

          They’d summoned the doctor to look him over and she paced impatiently in the waiting room, knowing full well that Master Yoda and Master Kenobi were watching her. Every so often she got the strongest urge to turn on them both and yell at them for being so stupid. She wanted to say she’d told them so, that he was still in there. She wanted to rub it in their faces that she’d been right to not give up on him. But she also knew Anakin being awake didn’t change the fact that she would be punished for the things she’d said to Obi wan. Or for him finding her cuddled in bed with him. Or the month of disobedience and refusal to heed their instructions, lectures or scoldings. She’d probably even be punished for letting her studies go a bit, for not wanting to run missions or help out with the war.

          But she was more worried about the fallout for Anakin than she was for herself. He hadn’t said a single word about Senator Amidala or what had happened during that mission. He hadn’t asked about her, he hadn’t asked about anything. He’d just glowered at the masters while holding his silent anger. After she’d seen the hostile look he’d given Master Kenobi when he’d turned his back to summon the doctor, she’d been absolutely certain he’d heard everything that had been said between her and his old master right before he woke up.

          Not only couldn’t she imagine what he must be feeling in general, she couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to hear Obi wan speak so coldly about what had happened, the value of his life and even the blame he’d placed on him for the Senator’s death or the mission’s failure. She didn’t often react in the same kind of anger that he did, but she had a feeling if somebody had spoken so callously about someone she’d lost or that she’d been to blame for it, she would have most certainly, punched them fast and hard in the face. So, to see Anakin manage to not do that both surprised and amazed her.

          But admittedly, also worried her. Because if he was not outwardly acting on his anger, it meant he was internalizing it in very unhealthy ways. Ways she doubted she’d be able to distract him from like she used to. 

          She stopped pacing when the door to his room opened. After a month of watching him lying in the healing chamber, it was suddenly weird to see him standing there. He was so pale. She could sense the physical pain underneath as much as the emotional pain that radiated from him in powerful waves. He moved awkwardly as though he’d forgotten how to use his limbs. He seemed leaner than normal, his robes hung off him like they were a size or two too large. He stopped near her and looked at Master Kenobi and Master Yoda. He didn’t say anything, and she had a feeling he wouldn’t be talking much for awhile, at least not to anyone else. She hoped he’d talk to her though.

          There was a darkness in his eyes that bothered her, like he felt nothing but distaste for everything they landed on. Nobody else really spoke either and she wanted to ask him if he was alright, but he was too consumed by whatever he was feeling for the masters at the moment. The doctor appeared a few minutes later.

          “Everything checks out,” she informed them. “He’s free to leave the healing ward. It might take him a few days to readjust, but none of the concerns I spoke about last night seem to be present any longer. He’s in perfect health.”

          For a moment, everybody just absorbed what she’d said. Then before anybody could say anything else, Anakin reached out and grabbed her upper arm. “Come on, Ahsoka,” he said roughly and tugged her towards the exit. She didn’t really know how to react, but of course she didn’t resist his order. She didn’t think he was mad at her, but she’d probably get a lot of the backlash from his feelings about everything else.

          “But-”

          “With all due respect, Master,” he said, turning on Obi wan. “I need to stretch my muscles. Anything else can wait until morning.” He didn’t even wait for Master Kenobi to answer before pulling her with him as they left the healing ward.

          She wondered where exactly they were going when they passed the practice dojos, then his room. But despite the pain she sensed in him, she couldn’t help but revel in his presence as he walked next to her again. It suddenly seemed so long ago that they’d last walked in comfortable silence. They left the temple all together, moving out into the cool night air. Part of her wanted to talk, to hear his voice, but she didn’t want to press him for information. She had no need to know what had happened on that mission, she’d seen enough to connect the dots all on her own, even if she was missing details. And the last thing she wanted to do was bring up any bad memories. Though she wished there was something she could do to distract him. 

          They’d wandered down the temple steps and strolled down the street. He looked around as though he’d never before seen Coruscant quite like this and she only focused on him. To her surprise, they ducked inside a cantina and she watched in confusion as he sat down on a stool at the bar and ordered a drink. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised he’d turn to something to forget, but it had just seemed so out of character.

          “Sit down,” he told her, pointing at the stool next to him when he saw her still standing there uncomfortably. She obeyed without question. He waved to the bartender and soon a drink had been put in front of her too. She really didn’t think this was a good idea, but the last thing she was going to tell him right now was that he wasn’t allowed to cope with the loss however he needed to. Though admittedly, she felt the need to call someone, anyone, and tell them where they were, just in case. He gestured to the drink in front of her that she hadn’t touched, and she hesitantly reached out and took it, bringing it to her lips and taking a sip. She must have made a face at the taste because he laughed. It was a weird, hollow laugh, almost sinister. “So Snips, what did I miss?” he asked finally, after ordering a second drink.

          She watched him for a few moments as he drank away his pain. At first, he didn’t seem to notice or care that she hadn’t immediately answered his question. By the time he was on the third drink, she saw his shoulders start relaxing and he rolled his neck. When he’d drained the third one he finally turned to her expectantly and raised an eyebrow as if it ask why she hadn’t spoken. And then he glanced at her drink as though to inquire why she hadn’t drank it either.

          She rolled her lips and quickly took another sip, trying not to make a face this time, despite the way it burned her throat and tasted gross. Satisfied she was drinking hers now, he went back for the fourth one that had been put in front of him. She decided she needed to say something but swallowed the words when she saw the flash of pain in his eyes. So instead she just went about telling him everything she knew about what had happened the past month, careful to tiptoe around anything that even hinted at the senator or their mission. She’d not mentioned the funeral on Naboo, or the chancellor’s address to the people following the news that she’d been killed by the separatists. In fact, she didn’t mention anything that involved the senate or politics.

          But by withholding all of that meant that she had very little to report at all. She’d spent most of her time by his side, not thinking about or concerning herself with the war. He didn’t really look at her while she talked, in fact a few times, she wasn’t even sure if he was listening. Maybe he’d needed something to fill the silence. Maybe he’d needed a distraction from his own thoughts. Or maybe he’d just needed background noise to whatever was playing inside his head. 

          He stared blankly at the half full glass in front of him. She knew this was hard for him, she wanted to comfort him, but she didn’t know how. When Master Kenobi had faked his death, Anakin had been sent reeling into a long line of terrible decisions and violence. This was different. And the more she watched him, the more concerned she became. His silence was unnerving, the look in his eyes was both icy and also full of fire. He seemed cloaked in darkness as though the weight he’d always carried inside now was wrapping itself around him and tightening its hold. There was nothing in his expression that hinted at humor or happiness, or even a memory of either. It felt like there was just a void there where once his heart and soul had lived. 

          Maybe she had been selfish to bring him back. Maybe she really shouldn’t have saved him. Maybe he’d wanted to die there in that room next to the person he’d truly loved. And she, no matter what she did, would ever fill that gaping wound. Watching him destroy himself over it was almost a fate worse than death. 

          “Master?” she whispered finally.

          “You got money, Snips?”

          “Uh yeah,” she said in confusion. She had some, only what the Jedi allowed her to carry at any given time. 

          “Pay for the drinks and put a coin in the jukebox, I need some noise to drown myself out.” She nodded, dropped the credits on the counter and when the bartender brought her change, he snatched one of the coins and stumbled off the stool. 

          She watched him stagger drunkenly to the music machine in the corner, shove someone out of the way, pick a song and press play. Then he wandered back to the center of the room and tried to sway to the music. Unfortunately though, he was far too unsteady for something that required concentration and balance, and he fell into a table. Which knocked the drinks all over the two patrons that were sitting there.

          The next thing she knew, he was in a full-blown fist fight with an alien three times his size. And though even drunk, he was having no problem holding his own, she begged him to stop. All of her commands fell on deaf ears though as they wrestled around the bar crashing into other people and tables too. Even the bartender had started yelling at them to stop or he’d call the police. She grabbed his arm and he knocked her back.

          Once she’d gotten back to her feet, she grabbed one of her lightsabers and pointed it at the alien who was now holding Anakin by the neck of his robes about a foot off the ground. “Put him down,” she ordered, waving her lightsaber in front of him. 

          “Lightsaber,” Anakin murmured. “Good idea, Snips. Why didn’t I think of that?”

          “You’re Jedi?” the alien asked, dropping Anakin finally.

          She slapped a few credits on the table in front of him. “Buy yourself another drink and forget everything that just happened,” she commanded. The alien studied her for a moment, but then shrugged, picked his table back up and went back to his drinks. 

          “Oh come on, Snips,” Anakin slurred. “I was totally winning.”

          “Of course you were,” she muttered.

          “I don’t care who you are,” the bartender said coming up. “I don’t like fights in my bar, now leave.”

          “Do you have any rooms?” she asked.

          “Yes, but I-”

          “How much?”

          “They’re not-”

          “How much?” she asked again with a growl.

          “Fifty creds,” the bartender conceded as though he’d decided he didn’t want to mess with her. She counted out the money and put it in his hand. “Last door on the left.” He slid her the key card and she thanked him. Then she grabbed Anakin by the arm, who staggered, so she threw his arm around her shoulders and practically dragged him down the hallway, ignoring the eyes that followed them out of the room.

          She pushed him into the room and then let go of him, turning around to lock the door. Then she froze when she felt him right behind her. The feel of the entire room had suddenly changed and when his fingers touched her waist, she got blasted by his intentions. 

          “Master,” she sucked in a breath, grabbing at his hands to stop them from going lower. It wasn’t that she didn’t want it, because she really, really did. She’d dreamt of him touching her for a really long time, even wished for the chance to be the one he wanted to touch. But this wasn’t how she’d always hoped for it; as a way to forget, drunk and in mourning.

          “Ahsoka,” he breathed near the right side of her face. The husky undertone in his voice had sent a shiver running through her and she relaxed her grip on his hands. He took advantage of the sudden release and slid them up her, teasing the sides of her chest. She spun around, feeling the sudden need to put distance between them, but he just stepped closer, backing her into the door. His face was so close to hers; she could smell the alcohol on his breath. His eyes read her as though he could see all the want and desire she had for him that she was now struggling to hide, then they landed on her lips.

          She parted to tell him to stop, but he took it as an invitation and pressed himself against hers. Her eyes widened as he kissed her, exploring her mouth and returning his hands to her waist. She didn’t pull away, though she probably should have. The electricity in his touch was making it difficult to resist him. It was everything she’d always hoped it would be and so much more. She pushed back without really thinking, wanting it too and letting it go on longer than it should have. But then when his hand slid down and squeezed her butt, she jumped and slipped out of his arms.

          “We shouldn’t do this,” she said nervously, trying to hide her pant.

          “But I thought you said you loved me,” he said indignantly, stepping closer again.

          “I do,” she said hesitantly, but admitting that seemed to only give him permission to continue. His lips were on hers again, his tongue slipping into her mouth, his fingers running up and down her back. She felt so many waves of fire crashing through her, it was getting harder to think straight. He nibbled on her bottom lip and then moved to her jaw and she tipped her head back as he moved down to her neck. “But-”

          “You promised you’d take care of me,” he said, sounding almost manipulative as he twisted the words she’d spoken to him in the healing ward, when she’d thought he hadn’t been listening. Or couldn’t listen. She tensed a little as his hands slid down to her butt again, then the back of her thighs and then back up and he squeezed.

          “I did say that,” she gasped a little when he increased the pressure and pressed into her, so she felt all of his desire. “But this wasn’t what I meant.”

          He leaned back far enough for her to see the darkness burning in his eyes and she sucked in a breath again. “People always tell me they care, but never give me what I want.”

          “I do care,” she said in frustration. “I’ve always cared!” He shook his head angrily and released her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been relying on him to keep her standing until she was suddenly staggering under her weight and falling back into the wall to catch herself.

          “They’re just empty words!” he shouted, and she stared at him in disbelief. “That’s all they’ve ever been!”

          “No…” she whispered, her voice suddenly constricted and hoarse.

          “I just want to forget, and you won’t even help me do that!”

          “I know, master,” she breathed, taking a cautious step towards him, but froze when he turned on her again. Though his words had been filled with anger and malice, she’d also felt the plea in them and suddenly regretted pulling away. She wanted to help him forget, but this wasn’t how. “But doing something stupid to forget only gives you more things you’ll want to forget…” she trailed off at the rush of pain that crashed through her.

          It was her pain this time, the kind she knew well. When you loved someone so deeply you wanted to do anything and everything for them even if you knew in the morning, they’d want to forget it. And that’s why she’d stopped this. Even though her body and brain were begging for his touch, even if it was everything she’d always wanted, she didn’t want to wake up in the morning feeling like discarded trash. That he’d filled his needs and then disposed of her. If they were to take their relationship there, she didn’t want it to be something he’d regret, resent or even pretend had never happened. And with where his thoughts were right now, aided by the alcohol, that’s exactly what would happen. She’d give anything to distract him but end up just feeling used. 

          There was no way he’d wake up after a night like this and just want their relationship to continue as though she was all he’d ever wanted. Besides, she knew that wasn’t true. Even if he had feelings for her, he’d never wanted her as much as he’d wanted the senator. Right now she was just a convenience, something that he believed existed only for his pleasure. And try as she might, she couldn’t just give it to him, just because he was hurting and needing a way to feel something else for awhile. 

          He dropped onto the bed still fuming. “You shouldn’t have saved me, Ahsoka. You should have let me die in there.”

          “Don’t say that…” She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.

          “I wish you’d just let me die.”

          “No…” She’d wanted to scream it but had barely made a sound. He rolled so his back was to her, all she could do was stare at him curled up in a fetal position, tears streaming down her face. Maybe she had been selfish to want him back. It was barely a minute and she was certain he’d passed out from how much alcohol he’d consumed.

          She ran into the bathroom, dropped to the floor and cried into her knees. His words echoed in her head, twisting her insides and choking her harder with every repetition. She’d known it would be hard for him to get through the loss. She’d known it wouldn’t be easy. She’d known what she’d felt the entire time he’d been unconscious. But she’d never believed he’d want to give up, that he wouldn’t want to live anymore. That nothing would matter to him anymore. That he wouldn’t care. She’d been so sure he’d just need some time to heal. That eventually he’d get through it and be back to his normal self. But this? This was so much worse.

          Once she pulled herself together and managed to stop the dry sobs that rattled her ribs, she brought her wrist up, pressed a button on her comm and made a call.

Chapter Text

          Barely thirty minutes later, a knock came at the door and she ran to it. She checked that it was who she’d called for and opened it to let him in. She knew Anakin wouldn’t be happy about bringing someone else into the situation, but he’d not really given her a choice. He’d pretty much made it clear that she wouldn’t be enough to help him and to be perfectly honest, she needed support in this too.

          “Are you okay?” Rex asked as soon as the door shut behind him, looking her over.

          “No,” she choked, dropping into one of the two chairs at the small table in the corner. Rex walked over to Anakin and looked him over before joining her. “I knew that it would be difficult for him, but this is different. Ever since he woke up, there’s just been this darkness around him. He’s always flirted with it for as long as I’ve known him, but now it feels like it’s in control.”

          “Have you told-”

          “No,” she interrupted. “I can’t go to the Jedi for this. Not right now.”

          “But if it could help him?”

          “I doubt it,” she sighed, slumping back into the chair. “You know what Master Kenobi is like with him. He won’t understand. He’ll only make it worse. If they know how bad it is, they’ll take away everything he has left. They won’t let him train me, they won’t put him in charge again, they might even kick him out of the order. I can’t risk that. He’ll never forgive me then. He won’t even be happy that I told you.”

          “Ahsoka, I know you want to protect him, but you can’t carry this alone. Sometimes you have to do what’s best for someone even if you know it will get them into trouble.”

          “You don’t understand, Rex,” she said in frustration. “The rest of the order, they’re not like us. They can just turn their emotions off as though they flipped a switch. They’re strict about their rules and following the code. If they knew the truth… the consequences of that won’t be what’s best for him. It will make it so much worse!” She got up and started pacing. “He needs help, real help, but I have no idea who to ask.” 

          “The Jedi don’t have head doctors?” Rex asked with a little chuckle. “That explains a lot actually.”

          “This is serious!” she complained.

          “I know, Lil’un,” he said softer. “So, if the Jedi won’t be any help right now, is it possible to take him away from the order for awhile?”

          “I doubt it, he already disobeyed them by leaving tonight. They’re going to keep a tight leash on him and probably me too, considering how much I disobeyed them this past month not wanting to leave his side.” Rex reached across the table and squeezed her hand gently. “Oh, Rex…” She started crying again. “He told me he wished I hadn’t saved him. He said I should have let him die in there. Is he right? Should I have left him behind?”

          “No,” Rex said instantly. “Sometimes when people are hurting, they say things they don’t really mean. He might feel that way right now while the loss is deep and raw, but someday he’ll thank you for his life, for the second chance.”

          “I don’t know…” she murmured, hiccupping a little and staring at Anakin’s back. “You didn’t hear him. You didn’t feel what I did. I think he meant it.” She shook her head, pulled her knees up so she could drop her chin on them and let out a sigh. “Even if he wakes up in the morning like none of tonight happened and is instantly back to business, how do I know he won’t take unnecessary risks because he no longer cares what happens to himself? What if he runs into battles asking to die? I just feel so lost. I don’t know what to think. He didn’t want to wake up. I don’t know how the other Jedi didn’t sense it, but it was so obvious to me. They were about to give up on him, believing they had no choice but to let him go. I begged him to come back,” she choked a little on her words. “I begged him to come back to me, and a few hours later he woke up. What if he hates me for making him stay? For forcing him to keep going when he didn’t want to?”

          “Ahsoka,” Rex said a bit sternly, and she glanced at him. “You need to stop that train of thought right now. It won’t help him and it’s certainly not helping you. If Anakin came back because you asked him to, it’s because he loves you too. If he hadn’t of wanted to, he would have just drifted away. So maybe it doesn’t feel like it right now, but he clearly still has some reason to live and maybe all you can do for him is remind him of it. We’ve all lost people we love in this war, some of us more than others, why would this loss change everything for him?”

          “You know how much he loved the senator, Rex. You know how afraid he was to lose her. She was important to him, far more important to him than any of the rest of us. Whether Jedi are allowed to have relationships or not, he had one with her. And maybe I don’t know the full extent of it, but I know it was way beyond what was allowed. He loved her. More than anyone. He probably wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. The idea of living without her is far more terrible than dying. I understand it, because… because it’s the way I’ve always felt about him. Which is stupid, I guess, because he’ll never feel that way about me.”

          “So, if he’d died inside that building, instead of sitting here talking about helping him, I’d be trying to help you?”

          “Probably,” she sobbed again. “I live in fear of losing him. I don’t know who I’d be without him. I don’t feel like anything in life would make sense anymore, or ever be okay again. That kind of pain… I don’t think time would heal it. I think it would always hurt, always haunt you. I need him and it makes me feel selfish that I do.”

          “It sounds like to me,” Rex said thoughtfully, “That you need to tell him that.”

          “I tried. He didn’t believe me. He said they were just empty words.”

          “Ahsoka.” She looked up at him again. “There’s more ways to tell people something important than just with words. Sometimes words are the worst way to tell people something that important.” He got up and stopped in front of her. “I’m due to check in shortly. We’re being deployed with General Windu’s troops today. But if he gets really bad, tell that little droid of his to zap him until he’s thinking straight again.” She stood up and gave him a hug. “It’s going to be okay, Ahsoka. Maybe not right now, maybe not for awhile, but it will be. What you two have is really special. Do what you can to help him, but don’t forget to take care of yourself too.”

          “Thank you, captain,” she whispered, feeling both better and worse as she watched him leave the room. Rex was right of course, but everything he’d said was so much easier in theory than it was in execution.

Chapter Text

          “Master,” she shook him gently on the shoulder. “Master, wake up!”

          “Where’s the fire?” he grumbled, grabbing the pillow and putting it over his head.

          “We should head back to the temple,” she said. It wasn’t really that late, but late enough that people would start wondering where they were.

          “Who died and made you boss?” His words stung and she stared at the pillow in disbelief. She’d have to find a way to not let his words bother her if she was going to help him, but even in the beginning of their relationship, when it was particularly rocky, he wasn’t quite so rude. Well at least, she’d understood then why he would be. Now it felt like he was being rude to her for no reason. That he didn’t understand how much she’d stood by him and tried to protect him in spite of everything. 

          “Well, I am the second in command, and if the general is indisposed, like right now, that means I’m in charge,” she said, trying to work some attitude and power into her voice. All she could hope for right now was that he didn’t really mean the nasty things he said and that it was all just part of his struggle to cope. She wanted to do what Rex had said and show him how much she cared and how badly she needed him; she wanted to help him find the reason to keep going.

          He rolled onto his back, into her legs where she’d been kneeling on the bed and pulled down the pillow to stare at her. She could tell he hadn’t slept well, despite the fact that he’d been out the entire night; which she knew, because she hadn’t slept at all. She hated the shadow in his eyes, but Anakin already took every loss hard, this one was so much worse.

          “Do you have to shout?” he asked finally.

          “I’m not shouting,” she said calmly, handing him a hot cup of caf. He stared at her a moment longer and then took the cup from her, struggling to sit up to drink it. She let him work at it for a few minutes before finally getting off the bed and going to sit down at the table again. She’d run out earlier to get some food and something hot to drink to help him with the hangover. Thankfully she hadn’t drank even half of the one he’d given her, so she didn’t have the same problem.

          She picked up a pastry and nibbled on it, not feeling terribly hungry, but knowing she needed to eat anyways. He didn’t say anything, which didn’t really surprise her. It wasn’t like he was in any state to think about manners or to care about how she was feeling. It was fine, she supposed. All that mattered to her was that he recovered, then no matter what happened to her, she could too. She noticed that he was watching her out of the corner of her eye, but she tried to ignore it and focus on what she was doing instead. 

          She didn’t want to imagine if he was weighing her value like the Jedi had weighed his. All she wanted to do was support him as best she could. She heard him move and looked up as he got to his feet and disappeared into the bathroom. He came out a few minutes later and dropped into the other chair. “Help yourself,” she said, not that she needed to give him permission because he was already digging in. “You should probably take a shower and brush your teeth before we head back, so they don’t smell the alcohol.”

          He stopped eating and scowled at her for a moment before dropping the half eaten pastry back into the box and standing up. “Want to join me, Snips?” he threw over his shoulder when he got to the bathroom door.

          Yes, of course she did. “Probably not a good idea,” she said instead.

          He made a face and moved like he was about to go inside before turning back to her. “You know, for someone so intent on making me keep on living, you should lighten up and learn to live a little.”

          She swallowed hard when the door closed, her breath catching in her throat. She willed herself not to cry again. It almost felt like he was trying to hurt her. And maybe he was. Maybe this was exactly what she’d said to Rex, that he resented her for asking him to come back and he wanted her to know that. It certainly didn’t feel like his normal lack of concern for the consequences of his actions. 

          It wasn’t that she wanted to go back to the temple, because she really didn’t. But she believed he needed the structure, maybe even the normalcy even if it was a terrible place to recover from loss since loss shouldn’t even exist according to their no attachments rule. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she should just go back to the temple herself and let him decide how he was going to deal with it. But admittedly, she was afraid of what that would mean. 

          Anakin was surly and unpredictable at the best of times, with his attitude lately, there were so many ways he could get into trouble; each worse than the last. Whether she agreed with the council’s point of view or not, how far would he fall without something to guide his way? As much as it hurt, she couldn’t back off and let him destroy himself and very possibly, everything else in his wake. Hopefully once back in command and back in the war, the responsibility of that will set him straight again and help him heal. Or it will be a total disaster. She didn’t really know anymore.

          He was in the shower for a long time, way longer than was necessary. She wasn’t sure how long she should wait before checking on him or if she should just leave him alone and stop fretting over him. She’d cleaned up all of the breakfast stuff except for his half-eaten pastry and caf. She’d thrown out the one she’d barely nibbled on too. She didn’t know what else to do while she waited, so she just sat there feeling stupid and questioning everything. 

          She wanted to agree with Rex that saving him had been the right thing to do, but all the signals she’d gotten from him told her the complete opposite. She only hoped the captain was right and that someday he’d thank her for it even if he didn’t seem grateful right now. But how bad were things going to get before they got to that point?

          The door to the bathroom opened finally to a billow of steam and her eyes widened before she slapped her hands over them trying to resist the urge to peek. The heat rose in her cheeks at the mere thought of him walking around the room naked. What game was he playing? Had he lost all grip on reality? Maybe Doctor Nema had been wrong and he wasn’t in perfect health.

          “What’s the matter, Snips? Can’t handle it?”

          “Master...” she choked in embarrassment, keeping her fingers firmly in place. “You know this is inappropriate.”

          “The Order has a habit of sucking all fun out of life,” he said, with a strange undertone in his voice. “Are you going to let them ruin everything?” She felt him stop in front of her chair. And she didn’t have to see him to know he’d leaned down holding onto both of the arms to get real close to her face. She didn’t have to see it, because she could smell the soap on his skin, feel the way his energy stirred the air. “I know you want it, so why are you resisting?” he breathed close enough to her face for her to feel his hot breath tickle the back of her hands.

          “I do want it,” she admitted nervously, and finally got brave enough to remove her fingers while still trying to block the view of his bottom half. “But I also want it to mean something.” She leaned back a bit. “I don’t want you to just throw me aside when I’m no longer fun for you,” she whispered uncomfortably.

          “You really think I’d do that?”

          She had the strongest urge to shake him and say she didn’t know what to think anymore because he was doing nothing but acting weird. But she didn’t dare touch any of his exposed skin or things could get completely out of hand. 

          “I think we should get back to the temple,” she gasped finally. 

          “Where’s the fun in that?” he smirked, standing up and stretching, whether purposely flexing or not, she had to cover her eyes again. But this time she couldn’t resist the urge to peek through her fingers, grateful he’d turned around and all she saw was his butt disappearing back into the bathroom. She exhaled so hard it hurt. What was going on?

          He seemed to enjoy teasing her almost as though... well, he was suddenly enjoying the newfound freedom. She knew that wasn’t true, he’d loved Padmé, deeply. So, was this just another unhealthy way of coping? Or had he completely stopped caring about everything; inhibitions, feelings, manners, consequences? Because if he kept on like this, who knew how long she’d be able to resist him?

          He was so right, she did want it. Way more than she should; both considering how she was raised and the fact that he was her master. But she loved him, more than anything. And taking it to the next level seemed like a natural progression, but this still wasn’t how she wanted it to go. She wanted to know he really wanted her too. Not just because she was handy or the only one sticking around. She wanted to know he felt more than just lust or the need to forget. 

          Not to mention in a weird way, despite how long she’d been in love with him, falling into each other’s arms so quickly felt disrespectful to her friend’s memory. He might believe it’s just a way to forget, but to her, it felt almost unforgivable to not take the time to mourn someone he’d clearly loved. Maybe she was wrong about the nature of their relationship. Maybe it wasn’t what she’d suspected. Or maybe she just didn’t know anything about relationships at all. It wasn’t like he’d ever told her, and he was even less likely to now. Especially since she feared what would happen the first time the senator was mentioned again. And if she knew the council, they’d probably ask his version of what had happened on that mission. 

          “Master!” She got up and ran to the door, knocking on it. 

          “Did you change your mind, Snips?” he called from the other side.

          “What? No...” She made a face at the door. Was everything she said or did nowadays going to be twisted? Somehow she was going to need to tell him to knock it off. 

          The door opened and she stared at his, thankfully covered, chest for a second before looking up at his face. “Then what is it?”

          “The council is probably going to want to hear your side of what happened on Agamar.” She looked down nervously, hoping he wasn’t going to lash out at her for bringing it up. “I might not have been entirely truthful when I gave my report.” She did feel him tense, just as she feared, and she took a step back without thinking. 

          “What did you tell them?” he demanded.

          She swallowed hard, trying to figure out if he was mad at her or mad in general. “I told them that we’d split up into two teams to hit the building from both sides in order to divide the troops. Then that your group hit more resistance than mine. During the fighting, an explosion caught the building on fire. Not being able to get in touch with you, I ordered the troops to retreat while I went back to rescue you. And-” The senator’s name caught in her throat. Did she dare say it? She could already see his fist clenching in response. “I told them you must have found Dooku, whom we didn’t know was there, and in an attempt to rescue...” She decided against saying her name after all, “you were injured.” 

          She had the sudden urge to flee as she felt his anger darken everything around them. They both knew that wasn’t what happened. He probably knew the council hadn’t really bought it. Especially if he’d heard what Obi Wan had said last night. She suddenly hated herself for bringing it up. She’d almost rather get in trouble for having lied to the council when his report contradicted hers, than feel the choking darkness that cloaked everything around them. 

          She shifted uncomfortably as she watched him fight through probably an ocean of pain before clenching his jaw. “That’s exactly what happened,” he said tightly. But despite the fact that he hadn’t lashed out at her, she wasn’t able to relax. 

          “I’m sorry,” she breathed, feeling tears well in her eyes again. She didn’t know exactly what she was sorry for. For bringing it up, maybe? For the loss that he now had to endure? For lying to the council and putting him in a predicament where he had to cover for her and not be able to say what really happened? “I shouldn’t have lied to them, but I didn’t want you to get in trouble,” she squeaked finally, just trying to break the silence. Then she turned to put as much distance between them as possible. He caught her arm though, before she made it more than a few steps and she squeezed her eyes shut suddenly afraid of his backlash.

          His fingers tightened on her arm, and she tried to fight the rising panic. She knew Anakin could be dangerous. She’d seen firsthand what he was capable of. But never in her three years with him had she ever believed that could be turned against her. He must have realized the same thing because he let go and walked past her without saying anything else.

          She tried to take a deep breath and calm down while he took another bite of the pastry she’d left for him and then discarded it.

          “Why are you still standing there?” he asked roughly once he got to the door of the room. She kicked herself to move, swallowing her need to tell him off or admit her creeping fear of him. No, she wasn’t afraid of him, only what he could do; afraid of the moment when he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

          Maybe she was in way over her head. Maybe she really should tell the Jedi how bad it was even if he never forgave her for it. They’d probably make it so much worse, but they might also be the only people that could stop him if he went too far. She was certainly feeling less and less confident that she’d be able to. 

          “Master?” she started nervously after they’d left the key with the bartender and left the cantina.

          “What is it, Snips?”

          “Nevermind,” she swallowed her question and looked down at the ground. He stopped walking and she ran into his back, not realizing she’d somehow lagged behind a bit. She blinked up at him as he turned around and stared at her in impatience and annoyance. Why did every look from him now hurt so bad? Why did everything he said eat away at her? She’d wanted him back, yes, but she’d wanted him back the way he’d been. Where yeah, maybe he’d been crazy, impulsive, reckless and intense, but had always been soft and understanding with her. How no matter how he was feeling at any given time, he never took it out on her. If this was the way it was going to be for awhile, she supposed she’d better get used to it. 

          “Are you okay?” she asked finally, unable to stand his glare anymore. It wasn’t what she’d wanted to ask because she already knew the answer to it.

          “Why wouldn’t I be?” He crossed his arms. Why wouldn’t he be? Why would he be at this point? Why was he so frustrating?

          She stared at him a moment debating whether or not she wanted to argue with him in the middle of the crowded street or just let it go. “Because...” she trailed off when he gave her a warning look. “I’m not.”

          “What? Why?” He sounded so surprised, as though he really hadn’t had a clue how much his behavior was hurting her. And maybe he didn’t. But Anakin had always been the person she turned to when she was lost, or confused, or hurting. And after this past month, she really needed him to be there for her. 

          She started crying before she could pull herself together. “I missed you,” she choked on her tears. “I was so lost. I didn’t have anybody to talk to, nobody that understood. Not having you there... it hurt so bad. I’m sorry about the senator, I really am. I know how important she was to you. But...” She collapsed onto her knees, expecting him to walk away and not want to deal with her. Why would he anyways? He had enough of his own problems. 

          He squatted in front of her and looked for a moment as though he didn’t know what to say or do. “You’re important to me too,” he said finally, though she’d felt the almost mechanical way he said it as though it was words he couldn’t really process even as they were coming out. 

          “Am I?” she asked in frustration. “Because that’s not what it feels like!” She found a rush of strength and got back to her feet. “I sat by your bedside for a month, crying myself to sleep every night! I got in trouble countless times because I refused to let you go. I stood up for you, I lied for you, I protected your troops. But all you’ve done since you woke up is tell me you wish you weren’t still here! Not once did you ask me if I was okay! Not once did you think about my feelings too. I know you’re hurting, but don’t take it out on me!” 

          She couldn’t cry anymore, it hurt too bad. She started running towards the temple, not knowing or caring if he was following her. She couldn’t stand it anymore. She wanted to curl up on her bed and not come out. She almost wanted to call Rex and Master Windu and ask them to take her too. Slashing her way through countless battle droids sounded really good right now. 

          By the time she made it to the temple steps, she was panting and exhausted. After the emotional trauma and sleepless night, she was going to be no good to anyone. She collapsed onto them and curled up, huddled against the brisk morning air and the cold stone. She hated this. She hated all of it. She was tired of crying, tired of hurting, tired of feeling alone. And maybe she needed to find a way to break her attachment to him so she could keep on surviving; not that she really thought that was possible at this point.

Chapter Text

          She woke up in her room and looked around in confusion. She couldn’t remember getting here, or even how. The last thing she could recall was the stone steps underneath her outside. She’d been exhausted when she’d stopped on them but had no idea she’d fallen asleep there. Had Anakin brought her here? Or had someone else from the temple found her?

          If it had been him, where was he now? She threw back the blanket and got to her feet. She nearly jumped when she went to open the door and he was standing right on the other side. 

          “Feeling better?” he asked.

          “Less exhausted, perhaps,” she said, backing up so he could come inside. 

He looked her over when the door closed behind him. “I just got done talking to the council.” Her eyes widened. Oh no. She should have been there for him. 

          “And?” She swallowed the lump in her throat. 

          He moved over to the meditation pouf in the corner and sat down. “They don’t think I’m in fit fighting shape to return to the frontlines just yet. Not that I can find my lightsaber anyways.”

          “Uh, yeah... about that...” she trailed off when he looked back up at her. “I found it when I went in to rescue you. Um... it was in several pieces and had been trampled.”

          “Oh... right...” he murmured and looked down at the floor, as though he’d forgotten until now. But he didn’t say anything else.

          She walked over to the bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling it out. “Artoo and I did the best we could to fix it, but you know I’m not as good at repairs as you are.” 

          He took it from her and looked it over, inspecting it critically. She could sense his disappointment at its current state. With the droid’s help, they’d managed to reshape most of the bent hilt, but there were still dents and dings in it. The rubber pieces of the grip were cut and missing in several places. The inside had to be completely replaced because the slash that had cut it in half had ruined the mechanism beyond repair. At least the kyber crystal had survived intact. Also, the button that was used to turn it on and off she’d failed to recover from the building before it had burned down. Not to mention it was approximately two centimeters shorter than it had been before because she’d had to grind down the burnt and warped metal near the slash. The problem was, that made all of the inside mechanisms barely fit and could potentially cause problems in the future by overheating the crystal or wiring. 

          “I’m sorry,” she whispered, sitting down on the bed and watching him turn it over in his hands, before igniting it and twirling it around. After a few minutes in which he’d seemed lost in thought, he finally shut it off and hooked it to his belt. Then he focused on her again. 

          “The council told me how disobedient you’ve been this past month. That you repeatedly ignored their instructions and lessons and refused to help out with the war effort.” She cringed and dropped her hands in her lap, leaning back against the wall. “Obi Wan also told me that you were willful and refused to accept his help and training.”

          “I did do those things, yes,” she whispered.

          “Why?”

          “Because I couldn’t focus and didn’t want to be too far away from you,” she admitted, playing with her fingers. “I thought you’d want me there when you woke up, because...” She shook her head and fell silent. “I let my attachment get the better of me.”

          He didn’t say anything for a long time, but she refused to look at him. How bad was he going to punish her? Or what kind of punishment had the council decided on?

          “They want me to relinquish your training to another master,” he said finally. 

          She gasped and brought her hands up to cover her mouth. She’d known she’d be punished for it, but to take her away from him? Couldn’t they see that he needed her? Even if he didn’t think so? Who would watch out for him if she couldn’t? 

          “I told them no.” 

          She furrowed her brow and looked up at his face. There was still anger and darkness in his features, but also exhaustion and loneliness. “And?” It felt like there was something he wasn’t saying. 

          “I’m proud of you, Snips,” he breathed finally. Now she was really confused. Why would he be proud that they were in this mess? And considering all the things she’d just admitted to doing that went against the Jedi teachings... why would he be proud of that?

          “What?” Was all she managed to say. She was grateful that he still wanted to train her despite the past day. She was surprised in fact, that with how he was feeling he’d even thought to refuse the council’s request. But she had a feeling there was a lot more about it that he wasn’t saying. Something that involved her, something that he’d probably gotten in trouble for or lectured about. And if that was the case, why would he come back to the person that had caused that problem and tell him he was proud of her?

          “I disagree with the council’s point of view, and I believe removing you from my care is not the right course of action.”

          “And they were okay with that?” she asked in disbelief. When did the council ever just back down?

          “Oh come on, Snips,” he let out a hollow laugh. “Of course not. You know the council.” Despite the fact that he’d attempted to make a joke, regardless of how miserably he’d failed at making it funny, she felt dread start pumping through her. That’s what he hadn’t said before. Of course he’d been overruled. Of course they wouldn’t have just accepted his refusal to give her up. She’d refused to let him go, so now they were going to force her to. Could the situation get any worse?

          She collapsed onto her side and curled up in a fetal position. She couldn’t cry anymore. Her chest was tight and painful, and before she knew it, she was gasping for breath. Apparently, he didn’t even have to die to find out what would happen to her without him.

          He slid off the pouf and stretched out on the bed next to her, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t touch her, he just laid there in silence. She tried to take comfort in his presence, but everything hurt, and she struggled to calm herself down. 

          “Do you ever think about leaving?” he said finally. 

          “I’m not sure who I’d be without the Jedi.” Her voice was constricted and hoarse. 

          “Me either,” he murmured. He fell silent for awhile and she laid there, absorbing the waves of pain he was giving off. The familiar pain that was almost more tolerable than her own. In fact, there was almost a strange comfort to it, maybe because of its familiarity. As though as awful as it was that it existed in the first place, she was so used to feeling it, that it was the only normal thing left. “I used to think when the war ended, I’d leave the order. Maybe I’d travel around the galaxy doing something other than fighting. Maybe I’d try and free slaves, maybe I’d help clean up the mess the Seps made.”

          She hung on every word, never before having heard him open up like this. She had vague ideas about his dreams for the future, but nothing he’d ever before admitted to. He’d always been so firmly entrenched in his duty to the chancellor and to the Republic, talking radically about the kind of change the galaxy needed in order to prevent further wars. His ideas had always seemed extreme to her, the idea of enforcing order didn’t really sound that great. But sometimes it had made sense too, and sometimes she agreed that if people were left to their own devices, there’d only ever be chaos and suffering, and innocents getting caught in the middle. So, to hear him talk about things that didn’t necessarily require military action or fighting, was surprising and strangely addicting. She wanted him to keep going. She wanted to hear everything he’d always kept locked away deep inside, good or bad.

          But for whatever reason, he didn’t continue, and she felt the walls go up again. Please, no, she begged silently. Don’t close me out again. “Those are good dreams,” she said finally, hoping to encourage him to continue. He didn’t say anything else for awhile and she sighed. “From as early as I could remember, I never really fit in with my people. Togruta are spiritual, but what I could do was different. I thought it was weird and scary and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like not being like the other kids my age. Then I met Master Plo and he made me believe it was a gift not a curse. Something really special that I could use to help others. He told me he could take me to a place where there’d be other people like me, where that gift would be nurtured and refined and used to help and heal the galaxy. I went with him because I truly believed in what he said. Coming to the temple was like coming home. It was like the real me could wake up, like I didn’t have to be afraid of myself anymore.”

          He rolled over so he was laying on his side facing her. “I think I was less afraid of my abilities before I came to the temple than I ever was here,” he murmured. “On Tatooine, it made me feel special and powerful, like someday I could get strong enough to overthrow the slave masters and escape. But here there were so many restrictions, so many rules. So much fear placed around using them.” 

          “Yes... for all their preaching about fear leading to the dark side, they’re very good at making you afraid of both what you can do and using it wrong. They make you so afraid to disobey that anything different is automatically scary,” she said thoughtfully. “The funny thing is, I suppose, is that despite doing everything I could to fit in and be like them, I never really did.” 

          She looked him over. He was staring at her, but he had a faraway look in his eyes, like he was also staring past her or through her. There was so much she wanted to say to him, and she had this tingly feeling that if she didn’t say it now, she might never get another chance. If the council was indeed going to split them up, it meant that they’d rarely ever see each other, it meant they’d do whatever they could to keep them apart. To force their attachment to break. She had no delusions that they’d hand her off to Obi Wan or another master that ran missions with Anakin all the time still. No, she’d be taken away, far away. To the other side of the galaxy or conflict. She’d be lucky if she’d ever get to see him around the temple, or if they were ever here at the same time again. As far as she knew, this could easily be the last time she’d see him until the war ended and who knew when that would be? At least it was a better kind of goodbye she supposed. If there had to be a goodbye at all. At least he’d still be out there somewhere, still existing, still surviving. At least there could be hope they’d see each other again. 

          “You saved me,” she said finally, and he blinked and looked back at her with some confusion. “When I saw that the Chosen One didn’t really fit in either, it gave me hope that maybe it wasn’t wrong to be different. That maybe not fitting in was okay. When you agreed to train me... it was the first time amongst the Jedi I ever felt like I belonged. I wasn’t like them and that was finally okay, because I was like you.”

          He reached out his right hand and touched her softly on the cheek. She didn’t tense this time; she didn’t try to stop it. If this was where it went, she wouldn’t fight it this time. Though she still didn’t think it was a good idea right now where the pain and loss was still so fresh, she also didn’t want to miss the only chance she might ever get with him. She willed him to see and understand how much she loved him, trying to convince herself that he was really seeing her this time, not just a way to forget the loss of another. 

          She leaned forward and met his lips before he could change his mind or back away. She had the sudden need to tell him everything words couldn’t. Maybe in touches she could communicate the important stuff that words had failed to fill for him before. He’d hesitated for only a second before returning the need. 

          “Ahsoka,” he breathed against her skin.

          “I love you,” she whispered. “I loved you long before I became your padawan. I’ve tried to prove it in everything I did for you, even if it went against all the Jedi teachings.” 

          “Then why did you fight it before?” he asked, his eyes burning in the low light.

          “Because I didn’t want to feel used,” she said. “I wanted you to want me, not just a way to forget.”

          “I’ve wanted you for awhile.” He kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then her chin. His metal fingers slid down her arm, leaving a shiver in their wake. “But I couldn’t give in, before...” he trailed off and pulled away, rolling onto his back again.

          “Because of the Senator,” she whispered without thinking and instantly regretted mentioning Padmé as the room darkened around them again. “I’ve known for years you had a relationship with her. That’s why I never told you how I really felt. At least not with words. I tried to show you how much I loved you, hoping someday you’d see me.”

          He brought his left arm up to cover his eyes and let out a sigh. “She was my wife.”

          At first, she thought she hadn’t heard him right. That couldn’t be true. Relationships were forbidden, not that that had ever stopped them. It was one thing to have a long-term affair in the background, it was another thing entirely to have been married secretly. “What?” She struggled to make sense of the words he’d just spoken. Somehow it explained so much and yet at the same time, was impossible for her to comprehend. In fact, she almost wished he hadn’t admitted it, despite how long she’d begged for him to let her in. Now all the ways he’d touched her seemed so much worse, and she suddenly hated herself for wanting it so badly. Not because she loved him less obviously, but because it just felt so wrong now. But now what had happened on the mission made so much more sense. “The chancellor knew...” she trailed off at the memory of what Artoo had told her that day. 

          She crawled over him and got up, unable to sit still anymore, she started pacing. She didn’t really know why it bothered her so much, but there was something about it that wasn’t connecting for her. Anakin had been married to Padmé. Padmé had been on her way to Alderaan on the other side of the galaxy. Her ship had been attacked by the Separatists, which in itself didn’t make sense. Why would they make such a bold move? Attacking a galactic senator in Republic space? And then conveniently taking her to Agamar, where her husband; a powerful but unpredictable force user just happened to be...?

          “It was a trap...” she whispered, turning to face him.

          It was his turn to be confused. “What was a trap? For who?”

          “The Senator,” she said carefully. “She was being used as a trap.” He sat up looking angry and she retreated a step or two.

          “Don’t you dare imply that Padmé died because of me!” he shouted, and her eyes widened.

          “No, that wasn’t what I meant...” she squeaked. “But hear me out... Senator Amidala was on her way to Alderaan for a peace conference, right? We’d just seen her before we left for Agamar. Alderaan is the opposite direction from where we were headed. In well-established Republic space. Artoo told me that the Chancellor’s message said that her ship had been attacked by Separatists on route to Alderaan, then they captured her and brought her where? To Agamar. Totally out of the way of where they were. Why? Why bring her there?”

          “They were bringing her to Dooku-”

          “Yes,” she said, waving her finger. “But none of our intel ever hinted that Dooku was on Agamar when we launched our attack.”

          “So our intel was wrong. Big deal, it happens all the time.” She could feel his frustration and anger rising, she’d better hurry up and make her point before he completely lost it.

          “But what if it was wrong on purpose?”

          “What?”

          “The senate knew we were about to attack Agamar, right? What if someone told Dooku to be there?”

          “Let me get this straight...” he said, leaping to his feet. “You think Padmé was purposely captured and taken to Agamar because we were about to attack it? Are you implying that Dooku was supposed to be there when we attacked so that what? I was baited into a trap? Only the Chancellor ever knew about my relationship with Padmé.”

          “Well that’s not entirely true,” she said, backing up when he turned on her. “Maybe none of the rest of us knew she was your wife, but most of us knew you had a relationship with her. It’s pretty reasonable to assume some of her friends from the senate might have noticed too. But maybe the trap wasn’t for you.” She crossed her arms, feeling uncomfortable. The darkness radiating off him was making the room chillier than normal.

          “You think Dooku was the target? They captured Padmé and took her there to bait me into attacking him, especially if he wasn’t expecting us to be coming?” 

          “Well... it’s not unheard of during war times to use underhanded tactics to destroy the enemy...” He turned on her, his eyes burning dangerous and suddenly less blue and more fiery. She sucked in a breath.

          “If I find out its true that Padmé was used as bait either for me or for Dooku, I will kill them all.”

          She didn’t know who “them” was, but she feared that day. She watched him storm out of her room before she finally managed to take another breath. When would she learn to keep her mouth shut? Was she about to be responsible for a trail of deaths as Anakin went on some kind of vengeful vendetta? And should she go with him in hopes of keeping him in check and preventing him from doing something stupid, or should she go straight to the council so they could stop him? 

          “Master, wait!”

Chapter Text

          “This doesn’t concern you, Ahsoka,” he said, before she’d followed him up the ramp into the Twilight.

          “You think I’m going to just sit back and let you do something stupid?” she asked stubbornly. “It’s my job to watch out for my master.”

          “I’m not your master anymore,” he said angrily. “The council made sure of that. Now go there and meet your new one and stay out of this.” He pointed to the door back inside the temple.

          “I don’t care what the council said,” she replied in frustration. “You are my master. The only master for me.”

          He squeezed his eyes shut like he was desperately trying to find one tiny fraction of calm in his no longer calm world. When he opened them again, she saw the moisture in his eyes. She reached out to touch his arm. “You’ve gotten in enough trouble for me,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t throw the rest of your life away now.”

          “I won’t leave you,” she promised. It was something she felt with every fiber of her being. He moved his hand slightly and she flinched a bit, but instead of what she’d expected, he brought it up to her face.

          He was silent for a long time; maybe he didn’t know what to say, maybe he couldn’t process it, but the longer his silence went on, the more sure she was he wasn’t finding an excuse for her to come too. “No matter how your new master tries to get you to obey, don’t forget the things I’ve taught you.”

          “No!” she called after him as the ramp closed in front of her. She looked around frantically, before finally racing to the edge of the hanger and propelling herself up as hard as she could with the force to grab the landing gear before it was pulled up. This was crazy! What the kriff was she even doing? She probably should have gone to the council instead, not for a new master, but to tell them what was going on. But in the split second it had taken her to make her choice, it had been decided for her. Him, only him. This was no longer about who was her master anymore, this was about the person that she loved. And no matter what he said or ordered her to do, she wouldn’t abandon him now. She couldn’t.

          They hadn’t been flying for very long before she’d had to scramble out of the way so that the landing gear didn’t take off her arm on the way by. Despite not being able to see anything in the underbelly of the ship, she had a hunch she knew exactly where they were.

          She waited until she could no longer feel him nearby before extricating herself from the crammed pocket of the ship and then heading up the ramp into the main cabin. She hit the button on her comm. “Artoo,” she called for the droid and wherever he currently was, he immediately answered. “I need you to come to the senate tower, to the Twilight.” She sent him the coordinates. “Immediately.” He beeped a confirmation that he was on the way and she told him to hurry.

          Rex wasn’t around right now, but if she was going to stage some kind of intervention, she needed backup. And while to most, Artoo was just a stupid droid that nobody paid much attention to, Anakin trusted him. And so did she. She knew that if she asked him to, he’d help her save him, even if it meant he had to zap him unconscious to do so. Or as Rex had said, zap him until he was thinking straight again.

          No matter how she was feeling right now, she had to put it aside. She was afraid for herself; she was afraid that Anakin was turning in front of her eyes. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop him. But she was more afraid of walking away and letting his fate be decided by circumstances. No matter how powerful he was, he wasn’t always capable of thinking clearly when the strongest emotions flooded forth from him. The proof was on Agamar. As angry as she’d been at Obi wan and the things he’d said to her that night, she knew deep down he was right. Anakin couldn’t control his emotions, most prevalent anytime the senator had been in danger. And often, when he was like that, he got wild and irrational and lost control.

          So, if he was about to go on a violent rage straight to Dooku, it very possibly meant he wouldn’t survive it this time. And if she wasn’t there to save him, no one could.

          While she waited for Artoo to show up, she inched her way into the maintenance shaft and took apart the starter. Disabling the ship might not be the best idea ever, but she needed something to bargain with in order to give her time to talk some sense into him. Because even if he force pushed her out of the ship and tried to leave her behind, he wouldn’t be going anywhere for awhile. Which would be time enough for her to get back inside or to call for help.

          She tried to focus on what she was doing, but her mind kept wandering back to their conversation right before he’d stormed out of her room. The more she thought about it, the more she was certain it had in fact, been a trap. But for him, or for Dooku? Because the more she worked it through in her head, the more it almost felt like it had been a trap for both of them. Padmé had been targeted on purpose. The only reason for that was to act as bait for Anakin. Anyone near him would know what she meant to him. And they would also know how unpredictable and dangerous he was when the people he feared losing the most were in life or death situations. So that explained how she’d ended up in the middle of it.

          But who would have benefited from sending him in that state directly at Dooku? And who were they hoping would win? Him or Dooku? Or neither? No matter how she spun it in her head, the creeping feeling that he’d been used as a weapon to take down the leader of the Separatists in some weird twisted game, she was somehow certain was meant to destroy them both. And that meant that somebody near them, somebody in their close circle had put this in motion. But she was also pretty certain… that only one of them was supposed to die, the other was to be crippled or… turned into a Sith...

          Her eyes widened in fear and she forgot where she was for a moment, bonking her head on the low ceiling of the shaft. “Ouch,” she swore a few times before crawling out. She had a lot she had to tell the council, but first, she had to make sure Anakin didn’t become exactly what they were hoping he would. And that meant… no matter how afraid she was at the moment; she was going to have to stand up to him. She would not back down now, there was too much at stake.

 

---

 

          She heard the door open and did her best to hide from sight, sitting in the copilot seat and staring out the window at the evening commute and flashing lights. “Artoo?” she heard his surprise and the little droid beeped worriedly. “What are you doing here?” She held her breath as Artoo gave away her secret. “What do you mean Ahsoka called you?” She heard him sigh in frustration, which hurt more than it should have. “How did she even know where I went?”

          “So, did you have a good talk with the Chancellor?” she asked, spinning the chair around finally. She did her best to hide her gasp at the darkness in his eyes. Was it just the shadow of pain that was changing them, or were they somehow turning more orange?

          “I told you to stay put.” There was a low growl and a threat in his words. She flinched internally but tried not to look like she was intimidated.

          “As you so eloquently put it, you’re not my master anymore, so I decided to disobey your order,” she tried to sound more snippy this time, shrugging her shoulders and pretending none of this bothered her. “If you think I’m just going to twiddle my thumbs at the temple and let my best friend walk straight into darkness, then you really don’t have a clue how much I love you.”

          “This isn’t about love,” he said angrily.

          “You’re right,” she said softly, standing up. “It’s about revenge. It’s about making other people hurt for how they hurt you. It’s about a guilt that you carry for things that aren’t your fault.”

          “I failed them!” he screamed at her. “Don’t you get it? I failed my mother, I failed Padmé! I’ve failed Obi wan and the council and my troops, and… and… I failed you.”

          “No, you didn’t.” She set her hand on his arm and he jerked it away.

          “They died because of me. Everyone I care about is going to die and it’s all my fault.” She tipped her head and looked up at him.

          “Is that you talking? Or your fear?” she asked, stepping closer and taking his hands in hers, tightening her hold when he tried to pull away again.

          “You don’t understand,” he said, malice in his tone, but there was a plea there too. She’d felt it.

          “Try me,” she said, working his fingers apart so she could intertwine them with hers.

          “I can’t let you take the fall for this.” He dropped his head.

          “A wise Jedi once told me, that another wise Jedi once told him, that everything happens for a reason. There’s a reason we were brought together. Wherever you go, I go,” she whispered.

          “But your future, your home?”

          “You are my home. Didn’t you hear anything I said earlier?” She brought her hand up to his face. “I told you that I thought Master Plo brought me home to the temple. But it wasn’t until I met you that I finally figured out where I belonged. Right or wrong, my place is by your side.”

          “Ahsoka.” His voice broke a little. “I can’t let you do this.”

          “Do what?”

          “You won’t understand!” He pulled away anyways.

          “You aren’t giving me a chance to!” Artoo beeped worriedly like a frightened child that didn’t like it when his parents fought.

          “Everything I’ve fought for, everything I’ve tried to be…” he started, his tone made her chest hurt because there was so much pain in his words. “It lives in you.” He turned around finally and she saw a tear sneak down his cheek. “If you die, then there will be nothing left of me, or my mother or everything I’ve ever cared about. Please…” She watched him swallow as though that simple action had taken all his effort. “Go back to the temple, become a great Jedi… change the way it is. Heal the galaxy with your gifts.”

          “And what about you?” she asked, willing herself not to cry anymore.

          “I’m going to end this war, once and for all. Or I’m going to die trying.”

          “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” She crossed her arms. “But you won’t end it alone. So, accept my help or I won’t tell you how to fix the ship.” He glanced at Artoo that beeped that he had no idea what she’d done to it as though he really badly wanted to stay out of this conflict between them. She didn’t blame him. She wished there wasn’t even a conflict between them.

          “Why are you so infuriating?” He slammed his metal fist into the door frame.

          “I learned from the best!”

          “Why won’t you just listen to me?” Was he begging? It almost sounded that way.

          “Because you won’t listen to me, obviously!” She marched up to him and poked him in the chest. “You know I hate it when you’re overprotective. And you hate it when I am. How does it make you feel? Every day of this kriffing war I have feared the day that I could lose you. Every day I worked hard, pushed myself beyond reason to keep up with you, to watch out for you, to protect you. And now you’re on some stupid vendetta and trying to close me out! You’ve insulted me, you’ve teased me, you’ve tried to hurt me. And I’ve done everything I could to let it roll off my shoulders. Why? Because I care too much about you to watch you ruin everything for what? Will getting revenge on Dooku bring Padmé back? Will ending the war heal the pain in your heart? Will destroying yourself prove to the Jedi and the galaxy that you’re worthy? You’re not just my master, Anakin. You’re my best friend. You’re the person that stood by me through thick and thin. The only person.  Had it not been for you, I would be nothing. But for some stupid reason, you run around the galaxy thinking your life matters to no one. You’re wrong! It matters to me. It matters to Rex, and Fives, and Jesse and the rest of the 501st. It matters to Obi wan, even if he’s terrible at showing it. It matters to every person out there that you’ve saved.”

          “But I’m the Chosen One...” He dropped his shoulders. “It’s my destiny to end the war.”

          “Who said?” she asked.

          “I don’t know...” 

          “I know you’re in a bad place right now. I know you’re hurting and broken and lost. I know that you want to direct that anger and confusion at something. But this? Becoming what we’ve been fighting this whole war? It’s not the answer. Being a Jedi is more than just a stupid code of conduct. It’s about intention and discipline. If we run out there chasing vengeance, how are we better than those we’re trying to stop? Love might not stop the fighting, but if we forget how to love because we’re afraid, we are nothing.”

          She took his face between her hands and stood up on her tiptoes, kissing him softly on the lips, before wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning her forehead against his. 

          “Please don’t sacrifice yourself for this.”

          “But the war...”

          “It has to end, but this isn’t how.”

Chapter Text

          “I appreciate your willingness to take over my training, Master Gallia,” she said as she stood in the middle of the council room, ignoring the way all of the masters seemed suddenly so cold. Anakin stood beside her. She really had no idea how this was going to go, but she’d somehow convinced him to come back here. She could still feel the echoes of his darkness when he’d come out of the Senate tower, but for the first time since he woke up, it felt like he was starting to stabilize.

          She was grateful it hadn’t come to drastic measures, and she was grateful that he had finally decided to listen to her. As much as Anakin could be independent and overconfident, she knew sometimes he really needed someone to point the way. Even if in this case it was his overly annoying padawan, at least he had finally let go of his pain enough to lean on someone else. So now, she just had to prove to him she wasn’t going to let him down.

          “But I must respectfully decline,” she continued, knowing that what she was doing was completely brazen, at least to them anyways. The council gives an order and you obey, there was no other way. But if she was going to truly help Anakin, then she was going to make another way. 

          “This wasn’t a request,” Obi wan spoke up and she took a deep breath before turning to face him.

          “I’m aware of that, Master Kenobi,” she said carefully. “I am also aware that I allowed myself to get so attached to Master Skywalker that it blinded me to the bigger picture. I became so focused on my own pain and my own fear that I wasn’t able to accept another point of view. And for that, I willingly accept the consequences of my actions.”

          “Decided, the punishment has been. But refuse it, you did,” Master Yoda said.

          “I did,” she admitted. “Because the consequences of my own actions should not be used as a way to punish him too. I was the one that chose to disobey. I was the one that stayed when I was told to go. If he’d been awake, he would have told me to listen.”

          “It doesn’t change the fact that he has clearly failed to instill proper obedience in his padawan,” Master Windu spoke up and she glanced toward his hologram that flickered as though he was experiencing interference. “The council decided that his unconventional training methods have been overlooked for too long.”

          She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm for both herself and for Anakin. “His unconventional training methods have kept me alive against even the greatest odds. He has taught me how to survive, adapt and lead. He has gone above and beyond in every situation to instill in me the importance of every single one of my actions. His patience and understanding has built my confidence. It has allowed me to take control when I normally would have been afraid. His belief in me has only made me more determined to work hard and learn everything I can. His punishments for my mistakes are fair and just. His willingness to talk me through my experiences has helped me establish a sense of control. The trust that has been built between us allows us to perform far more efficiently on the battlefield. We can seamlessly transition from situation to situation with minimal time wasted trying to communicate with words, ultimately saving more lives and losing fewer troops. What happened in the healing ward was not anything that he taught me. It was the result of not having his guidance for too long. I lost myself for awhile, I lost sight of the lessons he’s taught me over the years. From the moment Master Plo brought me to the temple, the greatest strides I’ve made in becoming a good Jedi, has been under Anakin’s care.”

          “I know you’ve disapproved of my methods,” Anakin said suddenly. “But Ahsoka is everything a Jedi should be. I have tried to teach her everything Master Kenobi taught me in my training of her. But I also couldn’t teach her the way you wanted me to. I had to teach her the way I could. You put us together for a reason, and I suspect it’s because you knew even before I did, that training her would help me. And it has. Regardless of our attachment to each other, she has been the greatest challenge I’ve ever undertaken.” She glanced at him and he gave her a small smile. “And the greatest reward. Together, we can make a far bigger difference than we could apart. Together we could end this war.”

          He stopped talking and silence fell around them as though he was at a loss for what else to say, and she could only hope that someone, anyone, was hearing what they said. Please, she begged them silently… understand what’s at stake here. For once, just listen…

          “It seems to me…” She turned towards Master Plo when he spoke. “That perhaps we were hasty in our decision to separate them.” Did she dare relax and assume that would close the case?

          “But a punishment for their behavior must be given,” Master Windu replied.

          “And there’s still the problem with their attachment to each other,” Obi wan inserted. It took a sudden desperate grasp of strength to not make a face at him. He was one to talk about attachment.

          “Perhaps,” Master Plo spoke again. “But I have seen them in the heat of battle. In situations where anyone her age should have been crippled by fear, she was able to step up, lead, and protect. Plain and simple, that is a reflection of her master’s training. Every word she has spoken is truth; their bond and dependence on each other has done far more good than bad.” He brought his long-pointed fingers up and tapped them together, something she’d always seen him do when he was deep in thought. “If young Skywalker is indeed the Chosen One, then we must assume he cannot be treated or addressed the same as the others.”

          “But-”

          It surprised her to see Master Plo stand up and wave his hand in direct contradiction of another master. “She has apologized for her irrational behavior in the healing ward. She has recognized that she was in the wrong and has learned from her mistake. In the heat of this war, we cannot neglect the emotional needs of our members.” He set his hand on her shoulder. “Especially the younger ones. However uncontrolled and disobedient her response to our unfortunate decision was, it is not a reflection of incomplete or misguided training so much as the taxation this war is causing all of us. With fear rampant in the galaxy, perhaps we must weigh more heavily on each other.”

          “Though I agree their attachment to each other needs to be addressed, Master Plo has made a fair point,” Master Gallia said. “In a time of war, we cannot assume that all codes can be followed as easily. Though yes, we endeavor to continue our beliefs and conduct as normal, the circumstances have created a situation in which we are all being tested. And though I personally have never seen Ahsoka and her master in the midst of battle, I agree with Master Plo’s assessment. If in the gravest danger they are able to do what is necessary, then how can we claim a moment of irrational behavior where no one was in harm’s way is more in need of punishment?”

          “You did say, Obi wan, did you not, that despite the unfortunate failure of their objective on Agamar, that Ahsoka performed brilliantly to protect their troops and her master? I believe the captain’s report also claimed that she was able to stay calm and focused and make the best decisions she could to save the lives that were suddenly under her leadership. A glowing report for a padawan still as young as her,” Master Plo said. “Yet another reflection of her training and character.”

          “I did say that, yes,” Master Kenobi murmured, crossing his leg and stroking his beard. For whatever reason, it felt like Obi Wan wasn’t very happy about several members contradicting the punishment over her attachment to Anakin, and she wasn’t really sure she understood why. Of all of the people in the room, he knew the best about Anakin’s needs. Surely, he also knew what a blow it must have been for him to lose Padmé too. So why was he suddenly so adamant they must be split up? Was this only because of the things she said to him in the healing ward or was there more going on that she couldn’t yet see? 

          “Master Yoda?” Ki Adi Mundi spoke up. “What is your opinion of the matter?”

          Everyone’s attention turned to the grandmaster and she took a moment to squeeze Anakin’s arm while Master Plo was still blocking the view. She could tell he was doing everything in his power to stay calm while the council decided their fate, talking about them as if they weren’t even there.

          After their exchange on the Twilight, she could tell that Anakin was in a kind of headspace where he was letting her take charge. Though he still believed in his need to take out Dooku whether for revenge or to end the war, he’d finally calmed down enough to let her help. And for a moment, she almost felt like laughing. Because here they were in the council chambers, begging the venerated masters to let Anakin continue as her teacher when right now, the roles were probably more reversed than as they were presented. Yes, he was the teacher in wisdom and experience, but he’d also allowed her to teach him too. 

          Somehow over the course of the past few years, he’d come to rely on her for guidance. He respected her opinions, often changing strategies based on her input. If she called him out on stupid behavior, he would in almost every case, stay his blade and let her take over. And his trust in her, to lead and make decisions is probably why she knew that if the council split them up after all, this probably wouldn’t end well for anyone. No, she didn’t want to believe she was singlehandedly standing between Anakin and him turning to the dark side, but after what she saw aboard the ship, he needed her to be his voice of reason when he couldn’t think straight. And despite how he repeatedly kept pushing her away, he was still depending on her to be that. So perhaps to Obi Wan and the rest of the council, her behavior in the healing ward had been irrational, but to her, she’d just been doing the same thing she always did, being Anakin’s compass; something he could trust and rely on no matter what. To be fair to Master Kenobi though, she wasn’t above admitting how she’d gone about doing that had been poor indeed. 

          Master Plo stepped to the side and she released Anakin’s arm, and tried to convince herself to keep breathing steadily and calmly. No matter what Master Plo or Master Gallia said, she knew the final decision rested on Master Yoda. Part of her wanted to plead with him, to remind him that he was the one that had assigned her to Anakin in the first place. That he’d obviously had good reason to despite the fact that Anakin had both never wanted a padawan and had barely been a knight himself for a few short weeks. Though they’d never fought alongside him and been able to prove their efficiency as a team, he heard every report. Surely if no one else could see it, he would know they needed each other, even if it went against their rules of attachment. But it was also probably likely, he’d been the one to also agree they should be split up. 

          “Against the code it is,” Master Yoda said. “In peace or in war, the code we need.” Her heart sunk. “Believe, I do, Padawan Tano, important you are to your master.” She was struck with the sudden irony that something that should be a good thing was now a reason for them to punish her. Being important to Anakin? That meant the world to her, even if it would ultimately be the reason they were torn apart. “Stay together, you will. For now.” 

          For just a moment she stared at Master Yoda as though she couldn’t process what he’d just said. One minute he was citing the code as reason to split them up, and that she was too important to Anakin to ignore, the next he was letting them stay together? She had the strongest urge to throw her arms around Anakin’s neck, but somehow managed to resist it.

          She brought her hands together and bowed to him. “Thank you, Master Yoda.”

          The rest of the room seemed to act as though that was the end of the discussion and split off into separate conversations, but her and Anakin still stood there awkwardly. “More to say, have you?” Master Yoda asked and the room fell silent again. 

          “Yes master,” she started carefully. Even Anakin shifted as though surprised. She dreaded the words she was about to say. She dreaded that she’d undo everything they’d just accomplished by saying them. She dreaded Anakin’s reaction to them, and she dreaded that the council might not listen. But since there was nowhere else she could go with it, she was forced to swallow her fear. “I believe the Chancellor is the Sith Lord we’ve been looking for. I believe he is Dooku’s Master.”

Chapter Text

          “I’m sorry,” she said, but the door closed between them. “You know I’d never give away your secrets unless I had no other choice.” She set her hand on the door to his room, but she didn’t try to force her way in. She deserved to be closed out. She deserved to have it shut in her face. She deserved to be yelled at or ignored. But that didn’t mean it hurt less. 

          She hadn’t told the council that Padmé was his wife, but she had been forced to tell them what had really happened on Agamar and why she believed what she did about the Chancellor. Which meant she also had to admit that he had acted irrationally, and she’d covered for him. And of course, she’d had to say the very thing he’d yelled at her about before; that Padmé had in fact, died because of him. Not because he’d failed her, but because she’d been used against him. 

          And worst of all, she’d told them that his longtime friend and trusted mentor was not only leading him astray but was in fact the very evil they’d been fighting this whole war. How could he ever forgive her now? 

          The only possible good thing that had come out of it was that the council was now too busy reacting to what she’d said to care anymore about punishing them, and all desire to split them up seemed to have been temporarily forgotten. The irony being, she’d probably just split them up anyways. 

          “Anakin,” she said, dropping to her knees outside his door, but keeping her hand on it. “I know you can’t see it right now; I know you think I betrayed you and your trust, but all I’ve ever tried to do is protect you. Please don’t think I’m purposely telling stories to destroy what you have left. I’d never do that!” Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she leaned her forehead against the cold metal door. 

          She didn’t know what was worse, the door between them, the darkness she could feel from him or his heavy silence as though he was desperately trying to forget she even existed. The only good thing she supposed, is that after what she’d told the council, he’d been ordered to stay put so she wouldn’t be alone in trying to stop him if he gotten the sudden urge to act on the ever-consuming darkness. 

          The strange thing was though, leaned against the door and deep in the force, she didn’t feel only anger from him this time. She felt mainly loss, as though he was once again in mourning. She felt fear and hopelessness. She felt his belief that he’d been betrayed. But worst of all. She felt his defeat, as though the truth about the chancellor had taken away the last thing he could believe in. And that was probably the part that hurt the most.

          After giving away his secrets like that, he had every right to believe she’d betrayed him too. But it hurt beyond all reason that he felt he could no longer believe in her either. Despite everything she’d always done, always being about him. Out of love, out of respect, out of duty... she’d always put him first. And even though that wasn’t what it felt like to him right now, she was still trying to protect him. 

          “Ahsoka,” she turned and tipped her head back to see Master Kenobi standing there. And that was the last thing she needed; Obi Wan to once again finding her acting on her attachment to Anakin. Especially after how little he’d stood up for them in the council chambers. “You need to leave now.” She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed her snippy response. She wasn’t immediately able to get to her feet though. “Let me handle this.”

          The urge to yell at him was so strong. To tell him that he never handled anything that was a lot of the problem. But she was too exhausted and too numb to fight his order this time. She finally pulled herself to her feet. “Yes, Master,” she whispered, but leaned back against Anakin’s door for a moment. “I’ll be in my room, if you need me.”

          She didn’t think he was listening, or even that he cared that she’d spoken at all or where she was going. But she turned and shuffled down the hallway, ignoring the way Obi Wan watched her go. When she’d been begging for Anakin to wake up, she never could have imagined all of this. So much had changed in the past day, so many intense emotions, so many fears rearing their ugly heads, so many truths being revealed and so much sorrow and suffering. And maybe all of those things had always been there, and they’d just finally been cut loose from the ocean floor and floated up to the top to suffocate everything all at once. 

          But if it truly had been the Sith Lord’s plan all along to twist, manipulate and isolate Anakin from everything around him... he’d certainly succeeded at that. She doubted there was much about the situation that Obi Wan could handle, but she supposed he was his master, and when she was lost and broken and confused, she turned to her own master. 

          So maybe while she didn’t like being closed out, or even the way Obi Wan seemed so impatient with him, maybe he was exactly what Anakin needed right now. 

          She immediately regretted telling Anakin she’d be in her room as soon as she got there. Because now it felt like she was obligated to stay put but was suddenly far too restless to do so. And now she’d managed to isolate herself from what was going on outside; both news about how they were going to handle the issue with the chancellor and news about Anakin. It was pretty much a guarantee that Obi Wan would tell her nothing at this point, so if Anakin didn’t come to her, she’d probably never know. 

          She paced around in aggravated impatience until she finally exhausted herself and collapsed onto her bed. 

          “Ahsoka.” She was instantly alert at the sound of Anakin’s voice. 

          “Master?” She didn’t look at the chrono, but she was absolutely certain it was the middle of the night now. Apparently, she’d been far more exhausted than she’d thought she was. She sat up, looking around until her eyes landed on his shadow as he shifted where he was standing near the door. 

          “I came to say goodbye,” he said. She was on her feet moving towards him.

          “You’re going after Dooku?”

          “No.” He looked down at the floor. 

          “You’re leaving the order.” It wasn’t a question or even a wild guess at this point. She’d felt it in his goodbye and in all honesty, couldn’t blame him in the least.

          “I just… need to get away for awhile…” She felt everything he wasn’t saying, probably because it was where she’d been lately too.

          “Then I’m coming with you.” She prepared the argument in her head, certain that he would make reasons for her not to come, to think he was doing what was right by leaving her behind, to not want her to get in trouble or any of his other self-righteous reasons for isolating himself and internalizing his struggles. But to her surprise, he didn’t say anything. He just brought his hand up and touched her cheek, absentmindedly tracing the wing shape and then trailing his finger down to her lips and then her chin.

          “I was hoping you’d say that,” he said hoarsely and dropped his head down on her shoulder. She reached her arms around him and held him tight.

          “What did Obi wan say?”

          “Oh, you know, the usual,” he tried to laugh but it sounded more like a cough. “But he was right about one thing.”

          “What’s that?” she asked curiously.

          “That I’m too close to the situation and should probably stay out of it.”

          “Well they’re stupid to take you out of the war now, because they’re going to need your power,” she said.

          “Maybe,” he whispered, sounding unbelievably sad. “But they don’t need my emotions or my baggage.” There was guilt in his voice too, like he truly believed that walking away now meant that he was abandoning everyone and failing them.

          “Anakin.” She tipped his chin up, so he had to look her in the eyes. “You are not now, nor have you ever been, a failure. Nor are you selfish for needing to protect yourself. No matter what the Jedi taught over the years, they have it wrong. You can’t go around giving everything without ever taking a break. And I don’t mean the forced meditation leaves or days off, or battles we have to sit out. I mean you have to give your head a break too. You have to stop putting so much pressure on yourself. Whether you’re the Chosen One or not, you’re still only one person and no amount of extra power or midichlorians will change that you have needs too. As amazing as you are, you can’t save the galaxy alone. Let other people help, let other people fight too. It’s not only your responsibility. Thousands of people got into this mess, millions are now a part of it. How can anyone assume that only one person can end it?”

          “Thank you,” he whispered after awhile.

          “Come on,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile. “Let’s get out of here before anybody notices.”

          “Ahsoka, wait.” He caught her hand before she made it to the door. “There’s something I need to say to you, and I don’t… know how.” She hoped he wasn’t about to tell her to stay because they’ve already been through this. No, she wasn’t thrilled about the idea of leaving the order, but she wasn’t staying here without him and she wasn’t leaving him to his own overthinking anxious brain. Where he goes, she goes. There was no other choice as far as she was concerned.

          “You’re not-” She fell silent when he shook his head.

          “I… you…” He dropped his head and she saw the glisten of tears on his cheek.

          “Anakin,” she breathed. “I’ll be right beside you. If you’re not ready to say it, you can say it later.”

          “No.” He shook his head again in frustration. “I have to say it now.” She watched him struggle to take a deep breath. “You… are… everything… to me.” Her lip trembled at his words, waiting for a but or something that twisted the meaning somehow. “I heard the things you said to me, when you sat by my bed.” Her eyes widened as she remembered how many times she’d professed her love for him or begged him to come back, or talked about stupid pointless things just to fill the silence. “At first… I hated it, because it made me feel guilty for wanting to give up. The things you said… they were so nice, but… I couldn’t believe anybody could possibly feel that way about me. Sometimes I didn’t even think that Padmé did.”

          “But-”

          “Yeah, she was my wife, but there were times it felt like I was always competing with a million other things for her attention.” His fists tightened and she wanted to work his fingers apart, but she was too busy hanging on his every word. “When Obi wan told you to let me go and you refused, it was the first time the things you’d said to me made sense. On a side note, I can’t believe you growled at him.”

          “Uh…” She instantly flushed in embarrassment. “I’m not exactly sure where that came from.” She suddenly wanted to hide her face, but he grabbed her arms and pulled her against him.

          “Thank you,” he breathed, kissing the side of her forehead. “The reason… I finally stopped trying to run away was the same reason I agreed to train you to begin with. I didn’t want Obi wan or the others to do to you what they’d done to me.” She blinked up at his face, but he was looking over her head at the door as though lost in thought. “Ahsoka… you have a spark inside you, a fire. Something really special and the Jedi… they don’t understand how important that is. They think blind obedience is the only way and I think maybe… I was starting to believe them. But your exchange with Obi wan in the healing ward… For just a moment, I heard my mother again. Well, besides the growl.” She rolled her lips when he laughed hoarsely. “She was soft spoken, but she never backed down when she believed in something and there was nothing she believed in more than love.”

          “You’re more like her than you think,” she whispered, unsure if it made sense for her to say that since she’d never met his mother. “I mean, I never got to know her obviously, but watching the way you loved people over the years… it made me proud to be your padawan, to stand by your side even if the council didn’t agree or understand. I didn’t care if the Jedi disagreed about love, watching the way you loved was the most powerful gift I ever saw you use, and I wanted to be just like you.”

 

---

 

          “Well Snips, you ready to go get into trouble?” he asked as he jumped the Twilight into hyperspace.

          “Always,” she smiled at him.

          “Good, because I have a long list of trouble I’ve been dying to get into.”

          “Is that so?” she laughed when he smirked at her.

          “But there’s one that is the perfect way to start…” He stood up and held out his hand to her and she took it. “Artoo, take over, would you?” The droid beeped that of course he would. And he led her out of the cockpit into the sleeping quarters. “What happened in the cantina… I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her lips. “I didn’t mean for you to feel used and maybe I did kind of want it as a way to forget, but…”

          She put her fingers to his lips to stop him from talking. “I just didn’t want you to do something you’d regret.”

          “I wouldn’t have regretted doing it with you,” he said, kissing her softly on the forehead. “But I probably would have regretted doing it that way, that night.”

          “See?” she laughed, pushing him softly on the chest. “I don’t know why you don’t just listen to me.”

          “I always listen to you,” he smirked. “I just don’t always blindly obey.”

          “That seems to be a common theme in our relationship.” She kissed him on the nose.

          “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

          “On the contrary,” she laughed. “I think it’s the best thing about us.”

          “I can think of a few better things.” He met her lips.

          “Do you think the Jedi will stop Dooku? And the Chancellor?” she asked curiously.

          “Of course not,” he replied instantly, and she furrowed her brow at him. There hadn’t been anger in his tone, only certainty. “They’ll expect us to do it, while simultaneously disagreeing with our methods.” He ran his fingers down her arm and kissed her again. “But since I’m not about to go to bed with the council or the Chancellor, I don’t want to think about them right now.”

          “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she teased, laughing when he threw her onto the bed.

          “I don’t want anything that’s about to happen to be a good idea.”