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Her body rolls, bruises littering her arms and shoulders. Her sabers having toppled out of her hands, leaving her open as her assailant pursued. A bounty hunter should have never gotten the drop on her, except it was no ordinary bounty hunter. They were force sensitive as well. Whoever they were, they had training, enough to throw her off her game.
Ahsoka groans, looking upwards at the clouds. The sky immediately being blotted out by her assailants hooded visage and his boot. The togruta braces for pain as it rounds closer, screaming as his boot makes contact with her lekku. The pressure is debilitating, especially as his weight shifts. Reminding the girl of a balloon on the precipice of popping.
With all the nerve endings being pushed her eyes can’t help but well up with tears, wide as the world blurs out. It’s as if she’s drowning, the noise of a broken scratching only disrupted by her own gasp, lungs stuttering and chest burning. Especially as the weight shifts once more and the muscle tears, the balloon popped.
Blood gushing and body shaking. The padawan can’t even fathom what's happening any longer, not as she screams. Vocal cords vibrating to the point they could be shredding. Whether it be because the pains became too much, or adrenaline and survival instinct had finally kicked in, Ahsoka mustered up all her strength in the force and pushed.
Sending the bastard flying with so much force a sickening crash breaks through her haze. It meant nothing as she curled her knees up to her chest and rolled over. Hands shooting up to her injured lek but never touching, not with how badly her hands were trembling and the fear of even touching the battered appendage consumed her.
A sob wells up through her garroted throat, hands moving into a crossed position over her chest while her fingers dug into the backs of her shoulders. With a gag, the girl vomits onto the ground in front of her, stomach dropping and a headache forming behind her eyes. She nearly falls face first into her sick, being caught by a pair of arms.
“Commander,” Rex calls, pulling her close and away from the muck. Struggling to check her over for injury since lekku were attached to the head, meaning they bled a lot. Leaving her covered in crimson to the point finding the actual injury was difficult. Ahsoka scrambles to latch on, messing up his armor with marks as she sputters against his chest plate.
Still seemingly underwater as he bunches her into a carry, Ahsoka moves her fingers away from him to probe back at her injured lek. Swallowing down more bile to keep it from rising. Sniffling and unable to hear whatever reassurances her friend was trying to dish out in the midst of battle.
Her weary vision catches a blurred glimpse of her dead assailant, neck twisted from impact with an overturned tank, blood and brains splattered about. She’d thrown him hard, harder than he’d certainly been expecting in her predicament. She can’t bring herself to care, not when agony was tearing her apart.
When she’s presented to Kix it would seem her hovering hands clued them in on the injury, it is more apparent now. Especially due to her blue and white stripes now tainted by purple and green. The bruising a mosaic of colors.
“Has anyone called the general?” someone says, Ahsoka doesn’t know as she’s loaded onto a drop ship. Kept still by Rex alone as they wiped the area down, Ahsoka nearly biting down on Rex’s pauldron. Bacta patches are practically packed into the wound, Rex’s arms trembling in an attempt to keep her still as she was wrapped up in gauze until they could get her back to the temple.
Unable to administer any pain medication to make sure her nerves were still intact.
Something she’d understand and appreciate later, just not now as she continued to writhe. It breaks their hearts, never having seen their commander in such a state. They could only imagine how the general would react when they were reunited. Likely to worry himself sick, not to mention he’d certainly be restless with no one to take his frustration out on, Ahsoka had already killed her assailant.
Ahsoka buried her face against her master's chest. Sensitive to the world around her. Every sound is much too loud and light is hell on her eyes. Her injured lek had been sutured shut, packed and wrapped with heat and cold packs that were changed ever so often. Thankfully she’d suffered no nerve damage, but with the wound having been open there was a high risk of infection.
As expected Anakin was less than pleased, honestly afraid to even touch her stripes when more often than not he’d brush his hands against them to offer her comfort. He settles for rubbing her back, just below her lekku instead. And she must appreciate it if the way she buries closer to his chest meant anything.
The beating of his heart was the only sound that didn’t feel as if someone was scooping out the contents of her head with a rusted vibroblade.
Anakin is aware of that, he can feel it clearly across their bond. And does his best to keep calm, to fall into meditative breaths as not to let her in on his concern.
Guilt ate at him. He should have been there. Ahsoka shouldn’t have been on her own. As of late they’d been spread thin. Padawans taking on more responsibilities. It was the only reason he wasn’t by her side. Then again she’d managed to deal with the threat herself even if she’d been injured in doing so.
He’d been in the same place before, hence his missing arm and scarred face.
Things get worse when infection sets in. Ahsoka is splayed out on Anakin's chest. An IV set and hooked directly onto her lek and montrals. Rambling under her breath about things that didn’t track. Something about rainbow kyber crystals before a murmuring rant about why were loth-cats a subspecies of tooka yet there weren't any Hoth-cats or Coruscant-cats.
It was a good question he didn’t know how to answer. Not that she was actually looking for one, already on her next tangent. Still he listened, wiping the sweat off her facial marked brow and placing a chaste kiss to the top of her montrals.
“I got you Snips,” the chosen one murmurs, not that she listens, “It’s going to be alright,” in the force Anakin extends a healing wavelength. Wrapping her lek in the force and assisting the medication in warding off the infection. And more importantly keeping it from getting any worse.
“Skyguy?”
“Yeah Snips?”
The togruta actually doesn’t ask or say anything in response, drifting off to sleep against his chest. Burying her face a little more firmly against his sternum as she does so. Breaths congested, her signature downtrodden by illness.
“Good night Snips,” he murmurs, laying his head back and watching the steady drip of the IV’s, feeling little by little as the infection began to dissipate.
“I really don’t like being stepped on,” Ahsoka bemoans, her wrist being caught by Anakin when she tried yet again to mess with her dressings.
“I bet,” Anakin returns, “And you’re only going to make it worse the more you touch it,” the admonishment causing her to huff and roll her eyes. Unaware her comment had really gotten to her master, the man seething with rage. Especially when he helped dress her wounds, able to make out the boot prints on the bruises.
“But the stitches are itchy,” the girl whined, a shiver running through her. A leftover symptom of the medication she was on.
“I’m sure they are. You could put the cold pack on it again,” he suggested, the girl grimacing.
“That’s too cold,”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you, Snips. You’ll just have to deal with the itching,” The chosen one runs a hand over her montrals, passing her by to go and get them a snack.
Ahsoka sticks her tongue out petulantly in turn. Tipping her head back and fighting the urge to itch at her stitches, they’d be taken out in a few more days. The thought doesn’t make the itching go away.
Anakin returns a moment later, tossing an enclosed pack of cookies onto her lap. A smile instantly lighting her features as she dug in. Body displaced for a moment as Anakin took a seat, her feet jumping up onto his lap.
“I’m still stuck on your question about the loth-cats,” Anakin admits, earning a confused glance from the togruta. She had no idea what he was talking about.