Work Text:
She’d believed home was synonymous with familiarity. Meaning the temple was her home. It had to be. It certainly wasn’t Shili, although that was where she was born - she didn’t remember all that much. So it mustn’t be her home.
Ahsoka knew the Jedi temple of Coruscant. Knew it as well as the stripes on her lekku and montrals, and the markings on her face - even when they were morphing over time. Even still, Ahsoka can’t say with any certainty it’s the first place she thinks of when someone mentions that dreadful word.
Still she understands what Anakin, Obi-Wan, and really anyone else who knows her place of residence, means when they say home. She also knows that in this war, returning to the temple or Coruscant at all was never promised; in fact as the years went on it only got even less likely.
The togruta only realizes exactly what, or rather who she thought of in the context of home, when her transport back home gets stranded; effectively keeping her away from her master. Her home.
“Sir,” Rex cleared his throat. The five of them, (Ahsoka, Rex, and three other clones who hadn’t found their names quite yet) “We’re out of fuel and our comms are down, systems should last until back-up arrives. It isn’t likely we’ll arrive back at Coruscant until then.”
Ahsoka simply nods in acknowledgement. Not entirely phased, knowing in her heart Anakin or rescue would be on their way. Making herself busy, Ahsoka goes through the rations. Making sure the five of them had enough for what would likely be a long night.
It ends up being five. Five nights where she is most certainly isn't alone, especially in such a cramped space. Rex makes her feel a lot better, more secure, safe even as turbulence shakes them and the fear of their listless floating rises, and hunger pains coil in her chest.
Except like it should be, her main thought isn’t on her men at this point, they’re certainly up there but the empty longing feeling in her chest is far more prevalent. Something close to a distant dream, it’s familiar that way - something she’s sure she’s felt before. More immaturely though, because she’s sure she’d only felt this way as a child when first coming to the order.
Ahsoka doesn’t remember what part of Shili she missed then, if it was her family or the grass, or maybe even the cousine. She’s certain of who she misses now: her master.
She misses Anakin. Misses him enough that her mind reaches out, calling for him like a child calls for a parent; and it’s likely an accurate depiction. Ahsoka is home before she reaches the temple, she is home the second their ship is docked on the Twilight and Anakin steps on board; her nickname sharp on his lips with concern.
It’d taken nearly a full week, but she’s in his arms, and that is home.
Ahsoka knows she is far from home when she wakes up alone in the cold cockpit of a small cruiser. Her body stings, muscles locked and hard, unyielding to her movements. Lux had stunned her, kidnapped her, he’d stolen her from her home.
She knows immediately by the absence of her sabers on her hips and the panic in her chest she wouldn’t be returning to or seeing her master any time soon. Or if at all. A bleak but fair question, assumption, when a squad of Mandalorian's appear just out the transparisteel to speak with her captor.
Ahsoka wanted to go home more and more as she slid on the provided winter coat and she was down right desperate to see her master when that bastard Lux kisses her.
It’s not a relief to see that she’s not alone. Nor is it that she was locked in a cage. But that’s not what makes her stomach drop. It’s the way the trandoshan above her holds her communicator.
Her master’s worried tone crooning through, pleading and commanding her to respond. Only to be cut off by the reptilian's sharpened claws breaking her only contact home apart.
Then, unceremoniously, she's dropped on a beach. Guns blazing, the others in her party dying, and before she truly runs into the crushing thickets she is quick and careful to try and look at the sky.
No splash of yellow came for her in a dash, and the danger surrounding her screamed it was far from being passed. If Anakin couldn’t come for her, she’d return to him.
She would come home.
There’s something wrong in clasping her hand over his own, teary eyes pleading with him to understand the pure anguish the act of turning her back on him was. She had no other option, her head and her heart demanded it, the force demanded it.
That’s how she ends up, down below her former residence, so far down the stars above she once found herself immersed in was nothing more than a mere pinprick. This place is not her home and she has to question if she’s made the right decision.
So far from home, until…until he’s there again before her and she just can’t bring herself to truly step through the door of his arms. Knowing if she did, she would never be allowed to leave.
Ahsoka had long since accepted her life as pallbearer. Caring those around her to their deaths with a solemn expression since she’d always known this was how it’d end. Staring at helmets made to look like herself, to reflect the death in loyalty around her.
Anakin’s anguished voice shouts in her mind, rings throughout her montrals all the way down to the tips of her lek. He’s gone, the Jedi are dead, the temple has been destroyed; all leaving her with no place, let alone home, to return to.
The togruta settles her cloak closer to herself as the wind pulls on the very moon that started this all. Rex is patient in letting her pull her eyes away from the bodies they’d buried. Forced to bear witness as he should be, but it burned to view the final resting place of his brothers and the forlorn numbness having taken over his sister.
She would never go home again because he didn’t exist. Anakin Skywalker was no more.