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There are so many emotions raging through her mind, too many memories and feelings and things she wants to say. The time that has passed since she’d last seen him seems insurmountable, yet here she is back like none has passed. She was able to keep stoic on the transmission, seeing the projection of him, shocked and floundering for words as he stared at her. But now, here, back on the Republic transports, seeing him in person after nearly a year…Ahsoka feels paralyzed. Is he still angry with her? Has he forgiven her for leaving him on the steps, alone, tears running down both their faces as she walked away from everything she’d ever known? He spent years of his life and sacrificed so much for her, teaching her, making her into the person she was now. He was not the one who had betrayed her, but she still had to leave him behind.
And she has missed him. The ache that she managed to suppress for most of the time she was away, trying to forget her past and the Jedi, is now back, magnified a thousand percent into a near-physical pain in her chest as she locks eyes with him, trying to decide what to say. She feels like there is something stuck in her throat. She can feel the awkwardness between the three of them—of course, Obi-Wan greets her with the same old kindness in his eyes—but he can sense it too as he glances between them.
So she does what she had been doing for ten months—shoves her memories, feelings, the hurts to the back of her mind and clears her throat and begins filling them in on the situation on Mandalore. Facts, strategies, she can do. The past…not something she is quite ready to face yet. She tries to ignore the twinge of guilt she feels when she quickly dismisses Anakin’s personal questions—are you okay, how are you? She sees the way his face falls when she clearly isn’t ready to talk about things yet. She can’t bring herself to act like old times.
But god, has she missed Anakin Skywalker. She misses fighting by his side and learning from him and the long, tiring missions where he would tell her jokes to lift her spirits. The way he cares for her so fiercely, when at the beginning he hadn’t even wanted a Padawan. The way he’d never given up on her, never doubted her innocence. He was the closest she ever had to family and the only constant she had. What she would do to go back to the old days.
Ahsoka hadn’t, however, been able to get the nightmares out of her head. The ones that warned that the darkness inside her former master was growing, would soon get out of control.
The horrible images of slain bodies in the Temple. Most of the dreams were a blur, but it was clear that the Dark Side had struck. She is sure it’s a warning of some kind—not necessarily the predicted future, or so she prays. She hopes so desperately to stop it, to warn him somehow. But now that she is here, she is struggling to even speak to him normally.
She settles for following him through the ship, thoughts churning uncontrollably, trying to read him. He seems…different. There is something inside him that is trying to become stronger, at moments seeming to rage against his spirit.
Ahsoka thinks of Mortis, the visions of her future and the darkness that the visions had hinted at for Anakin. The warning that she would die if she remained his pupil—things she had never repeated to him or anyone. Yes, Anakin is capable of dark things, she knew—but it’s because of how emotional he can be, how easily controlled by his anger he can get if someone he loves is in danger. He is good, at heart, she knows this for sure. And she has faith that he can overcome the tempting of the Dark Side.
Still, she’s always looked at him a little differently since Mortis.
The clones, once Anakin’s little “surprise” is revealed, are almost too much for Ahsoka. That is the point that she wants to break down and cry, at the sight of her brothers saluting her, painting markings on their helmets in respect. In respect for her, a Jedi who had walked away from them. What has she done to deserve this?
Anakin seems to sense this, firmly reminding her of all she had done for them when she was commander. She tries to shake the guilt, the whispers in her head that she isn’t worthy of all this. And she nearly throws her arms around Rex, one of her dearest friends, when she sees him again. The memories, the emotions, the deja vu, everything is sweeping over her too fast and she’s having trouble handling it. Her chest feels so heavy. Mandalore suddenly seems galaxies away, unimportant.
When Obi-Wan gets the call that the chancellor is in danger and he and Anakin must go, she feels a pang of regret and longing. She gets to go with Rex to Mandalore, great, but she has finally been reunited with her former master and she’s been too paralyzed to do much other than discuss the mission like some emotionless droid. She wants to cry out don’t leave! I can’t leave you again!
But they need to go. The troops are readying to leave for Mandalore in less than an hour, and the ship taking Anakin and Obi-Wan to Coruscant will be ready very soon. Ahsoka curses herself for the way she’s been acting, for wasting the short time she had with Anakin. What if she never saw him again? She could die on Mandalore, after all.
“Good luck,” she finds herself saying, choking back tears, feeling empty inside as he looks back at her from the doorway. He looks so sad, so conflicted, and she knows that he, too, is pained over how quickly they are being pulled apart. He’s turning away, to leave, maybe forever, getting farther and farther away (why is she thinking so morbidly?) and before she can process it she is taking steps towards him and calling out, “Anakin!”
Her feet carry her without thought and she’s practically running at him to catch him—he turns at the sound of his name, only having a few seconds to see Ahsoka before she throws herself at him, nearly collapsing in his arms, both of them stumbling for a moment. There is no hesitation in him as he wraps his arms around her, meeting her in the embrace she’s been so scared to go after since the second she stepped onto the ship. She hugs him, hard, face pressing into his familiar robes, the scent reminding her of he would hug her after hard missions that shook her up. She’s crying now, she realizes, and she doesn’t have it in her to be embarrassed because of how relieved she is, how right it feels to be back with him.
“Snips,” he whispers, his arms tight and comforting around her. “I missed you.” It seems like an eternity, yet not long enough. He gently pulls back, holding her arms, looking her in the eyes.
Ahsoka wipes the tears away. “Hey, Skyguy. I missed you too. I—I don’t want you to go again.”
“I know,” he tells her sadly, squeezing her shoulder. “I really wish I could go to Mandalore with you. I want more time to catch up.” She can tell the idea of him missing out on so many months of her life bothers him. He wants to know where she’s been, how she is. He’s watched her grow up for years and now he’s missed a chunk of it.
She remembers how guilty he had felt, guilt he probably still feels to this day. The confusion and hurt on his face today when she refused to answer his personal questions. “Master. I know you’ve probably heard it a million times from Obi-Wan, but I don’t blame you for what happened. It wasn’t your fault.”
Anakin looks pained; she can practically see that day replaying in his mind. That fateful day on the steps of the Temple, when both their worlds changed forever. “But I failed you. I can’t fix that. I should have tried harder to protect you. You left because your master couldn’t save you from the kriffing Council—” and she can feel the rage building in him, and it almost frightens her.
“I left because I realized the Jedi are not the perfect peacekeepers they want to be. They aren’t all corrupt, Anakin. There are good ones. But the power had gotten to the Council, and they needed a scapegoat. They blamed a girl who had given her entire life to serve them; they put me on trial like a dirty war criminal and tainted my name. They didn’t believe me. And it hurt, so much.” She’s fighting fresh tears. “I couldn’t go back, not after they treated me like that. It was too painful. Nothing would be the same. But I never once blamed you, Anakin. You are good inside. You are the strongest, kindest person I’ve ever known and I trust you with my life. I would have died for you. I loved you like a brother and I still do.”
She can see him processing her words, the rage in him quelling, and she hopes he will remember them and know their truth. Something is telling her that he will need it as a reminder as he battles whatever dark forces are inside him. He is the Chosen One, after all—it only makes sense the Dark Side would want him. She can only pray to the Force that it won’t win. Anakin is strong, strong enough to defeat the Sith…but even the best Jedi have fallen to the dark.
“I have been fighting so much anger and fear lately,” he finally admits to her. “Fears about those I love dying and I can’t protect them. That I will fail them somehow. You included.”
“Everyone dies eventually, Anakin, you know that,” she chides, trying to fake a smile. “Darkness destroys life, it does not preserve it.” He frowns at her, and she wonders if she’s revealing that she knows too much. She remembers the warning on Mortis. “The Sith can’t protect the people you love. The dark side is like a black hole. It crushes and destroys all in its path and leaves you empty and hateful. You’ll lose everything.”
His eyes are wide. “Ahsoka, how—”
“Mortis showed me a lot of things,” she admits. “I don’t know how much was true. But I’ve never forgotten them, and I can sense there is something sinister struggling in you.”
He’s pale. “I’m scared of it,” he confesses. “I am so angry all the time.”
“Listen to me, Anakin Skywalker, you are stronger than that. You’re the best starfighter pilot in the galaxy and the best damn Jedi and friend I’ve ever met.” She’s leaning in close now, desperate for him to understand, to listen and not stray from the light. “Fight it. Fight it with all you’ve got, and I promise it will turn out better. You can protect your loved ones with good. You can protect Padme, and I can help you. I always have.”
“But, Padme—”
“Is your wife,” Ahsoka finishes, smirking as he gapes at her. “I did some digging after I left just to confirm my suspicions. Force, even Rex knew something was going on!” She swears he’s blushing, but he finally clears his throat and nods nonchalantly.
Anakin’s comlink beeps—the ship to Coruscant must be ready. She sees the hesitation in his eyes. Neither of them want to leave each other, not again.
“Anakin, I just have a bad feeling about Coruscant,” she says urgently, knowing their time is slipping away. “I need you to promise me you’ll remember who you are, and that the light is always better. And that you won’t be tempted. Don’t give into the fear, Master.”
His face is so conflicted, trying to process the warnings she’s given him and the situation at hand and the impending goodbye—but finally he nods, some semblance of understanding dawning, and his voice is steadier. “I promise.”
“Come back to me in one piece, okay?” She jokes. “I’m not planning on leaving straight after Mandalore. I’ll see you before we know it!”
“Be safe, Snips,” he tells her, smiling at last. “It’s so good to have you back.”
She hugs him again, her heart lifting in relief a little now that she has warned him, and reassured him she still cares about him. She squeezes her eyes shut and prays to the Force, please, please protect him.
Alarms from the hanger begin blaring—it’s time for Ahsoka to leave, too. But she feels less agonized about it now. More confident that Anakin will be okay. She’s done everything she can.
She pulls back and grins at him. “Gotta go kick some ass with the clones, Master! Keep me updated on how Coruscant is going.”
“Now when did you start using such language?” He fake-scolds, and she laughs.
“I spent a lot of time in the underbelly of Coruscant. Interesting people down there.”
“Well, you better go kick some ass then, Snips,” he says, squeezing her shoulder once more. “You’ve got this.”
“Goodbye, Master, and good luck.” She says, and they are going their separate ways before she knows it—only this time there isn’t an empty, painful hole in her chest but a hopeful, warm feeling that things might just be okay.
As she hops on the transports with the troops, she realizes she hasn’t felt this lighthearted in months.