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“Anakin?” Ahsoka sounds uncertain and painfully young as she addresses Anakin in the middle of the night, looking at him from the bunk opposite his on the Twilight.
“What’s up, Snips?” Anakin rolls over so he’s facing her. R2’s flying the ship, while they get some rest, and apart from him, they’re all alone, so Anakin doesn’t bother whispering.
“Why has Master Obi-Wan been looking at me like that lately?” She’s frowning, looking genuinely hurt.
“Like what?” Anakin asks, furrowing his brow in confusion.
“Like- like I’m a live wire going to explode at any moment,” Ahsoka’s voice tilts towards frustration, “And I tried asking him what I did wrong and all he’d say was ‘Oh, nothing at all, dear’ and I know he’s lying, but I can’t get him to tell me anything!”
Anakin goes quiet, remembering yellow eyes and snarling canines. Remembering green lightsabers coming down on him and ‘ Now the student will kill the master. ’ She had been frightening. She had nearly broken Anakin’s heart in the long, heavy moments before he had known that the Son had manipulated her. “Do you hate it when I call you Snips?” Anakin asks, apropos of nothing. His voice sounds fragile to his own ears.
“No,” Ahsoka intones, confusion heavy in her voice. She sits up in her bunk, pulling her knees to her chest, “Of course not. Why?”
Anakin shrugs, feeling unreasonably relieved. “Just… something you said,” he lies. It’s unconvincing, he knows, and Ahsoka lets out a real growl of frustration.
“Now you’re doing it too!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up, “Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on?” Is it Anakin’s imagination, or do her blue eyes glint yellow in the dark?
“Ahsoka,” he sighs, covering his face with one hand.
“I had a vision,” she says abruptly, “when we were on Mortis. It- it told me that I have darkness in me. Is that what this is about? Did you and Obi-Wan have the same vision?” She looks insecure and so young and Anakin remembers her dead body, eyes rolled back in her head, already cooling before he had been able to bring her back to life.
“No,” Anakin says immediately, sitting up himself and resting his elbows on his knees, “Besides, I thought I had a vision too, but it turned out to be the Son manipulating me. It was probably the same for you.
“Then why is Obi-Wan so wary of me?” Ahsoka demands, on her feet now, her frustrated energy bubbling over into movement, the same way it so often does for Anakin.
“Ahsoka, please,” Anakin’s voice cracks desperately as he speaks, unwilling to meet her eyes, “It’s better if you don’t know.”
“You don’t get to make that decision for me!” Ahsoka snarls, sounding every bit the predator that she is, “Knowing, or not knowing should be my choice. This isn’t fair.”
“Well, too bad,” Anakin snaps in return, “Life isn’t fair.”
“Tell me what I did, or I will spend the rest of my life wondering,” her voice wavers with desperation. Anakin doesn’t say a word, just staring at her pacing footsteps. “Fine,” Ahsoka’s voice is cold now. Without another word, she marches into the cockpit, letting the door slide shut behind her and leaving Anakin in total darkness. Anakin stares at the floor and remembers yellow eyes and mocking smiles and a cold, lifeless body, limp in his arms.
~*~
“Ahsoka,” Anakin begins tentatively about a week later, after a spar. Their midnight argument had been all but forgiven and forgotten by the next morning. Ahsoka had woken him with a cheery ‘Morning, Master!’ and that had been that. It’s been an exhausting week and Anakin hasn’t wanted to cause another argument by bringing it up again.
“Yeah?” She says over her shoulder, as she takes a drink of water.
“Do you know why Obi-Wan has been acting strange around me lately?” Anakin asks, the words sounding all too familiar in his ears.
The line of Ahsoka’s shoulders stiffen from where they had been casual, relaxed. “How has Master Obi-Wan been acting around you?” She still hasn’t turned back around.
“Like- like he pities me, but he thinks I’m about to snap at the same time. Like I’m… fragile,” he spits the word out.
“Maybe he found out how bad you are at sabacc and felt sorry for you,” Ahsoka suggests, finally looking over her shoulder at him and offering him a teasing smile that doesn’t meet her eyes.
“Ha ha,” Anakin says flatly, “You’re as bad of a liar as I am, Snips.”
“I’m a bad actor ,” Ahsoka corrects lightly, “I like to think that I’m a pretty good liar, thanks.”
Anakin shakes his head, scoffing, “Am I supposed to be proud of that?” Ahsoka just gives him a shrug, finally turning around entirely and sinking down to sit up against the wall. “Stop avoiding the question,” Anakin demands, folding his arms and staring down at her crossly, “You know something, I can tell.”
Ahsoka raises an eye marking sardonically. “Something,” she agrees and stares right back at him defiantly. There’s something brittle and afraid in her eyes and Anakin recognizes the rude behavior for what it is: a mask.
He sits down next to her, back to the wall and says quietly, “Ahsoka did I do something on Mortis?” Ahsoka’s fists clench where they rest on her knees. “The Father told me that the Son broke the laws of time to show me my future. Do you know what I saw?”
“No,” Ahsoka says softly, “But whatever it was, I’m glad you don’t remember.”
“I did something terrible, didn’t I?” Anakin whispers, almost to himself.
“I don’t know,” Ahsoka’s voice is flat, sarcastic, “Did I?” Anakin doesn’t offer a response. Ahsoka looks at him for a long moment, before she turns her head away silently. Anakin is just so very tired. Ahsoka doesn’t seem to be faring much better. They simply sit there together for a long moment, shoulder to shoulder and a mile apart.
~*~
That’s where Obi-Wan finds them, an hour past the dinner they were supposed to have together, as a sort of celebration for their rare joint shore leave. They’re both fast asleep sitting against the wall. Ahsoka’s head has dropped onto Anakin’s shoulder and Anakin’s cheek is resting on his padawan’s head. Anakin is frowning, brow furrowed, even in sleep. Ahsoka’s expression is troubled, eyes scrunched far too tight to signify a restful slumber.
“Oh, my padawans,” Obi-Wan murmurs. They’re both too young for this terrible war. Too young for fear and death to haunt their every step. His heart aches for them both. He should wake them- should at least make sure they make it onto a couch. He, however, hesitates. Hateful, yellow eyes haunt his memories, overlapping over gentle blue, and he almost fears for them to open their eyes.
Pushing past the, not quite irrational fear, Obi-Wan begins with Anakin. Obi-Wan reaches out to stroke Anakin’s curly hair. “Wake up, padawan mine,” he whispers. When Anakin’s eyes- blue, a brilliant blue -blink open blearily, Obi-Wan offers him a good-natured smile. “You’ll break your back sleeping like that,” he jokes easily.
“I wasn’t sleeping,” Anakin protests weakly, “Just didn’t want to move for Ahsoka’s sake.”
Obi-Wan shakes his head disbelievingly and squeezes Ahsoka’s shoulder to wake her. She shoots up, nearly knocking Anakin over in the process. “I wasn’t asleep!” She blurts out, eyes- blue, bright blue -wide in an effort to stay awake.
“You are growing far too much like your master,” Obi-Wan laughs, “I’ll have to make room for a second headache.” Ahsoka is staring at him openly, eyes betraying her wariness, even as a smile rests on her lips.
“What time is it?” Anakin asks, stumbling to his feet, and rubbing his eyes sleepily.
“Only an hour past the dinner I ate alone,” Obi-Wan’s aiming for teasing, but Anakin’s expression is one of crumpled guilt.
“Oh,” he says plainly, “I’m sorry.” ‘I’m sorry.’ He sounds as if he’s been crying. ‘You will not understand what I will have to do to end the Clone War.’
Obi-Wan winces. “That’s quite alright,” he says. Anakin still looks so tired. Ahsoka stands up next to Anakin and the look on her face is one of pure exhaustion. “Let’s get you two somewhere more comfortable, yes?” Obi-Wan lifts an eyebrow at the two of them and, when it seems that neither have much of an argument, he begins to steer them gently towards the door.
“Your quarters, please, Master Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka mumbles sleepily, “It’s comfier than ours.” Obi-Wan obliges and watches, half fondly, half sadly, as Anakin immediately stumbles to the nearest couch and collapses down on it. Ahsoka flops down onto the other and pushes her face into the cushion like a sleepy cat. Obi-Wan gives into the protective instinct to drape blankets over them both and smiles at the way Ahsoka grabs the one he gives her and pulls it to her chest. She seems to be asleep again in moments.
“Master?” Anakin’s voice is smaller than it’s been in a long time.
“Yes?” Obi-Wan drops a hand onto Anakin’s head and looks down into his face.
“I’m sorry, for whatever I did on Mortis,” he looks close to tears now, “I did something awful and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“It wasn’t your fault, dear one.” Obi-Wan has to close his eyes against the memory of yellow eyes and grief-coated fury. “There’s nothing to be fixed.” The words feel like a lie on his tongue, though he believes them whole-heartedly. Anakin sighs heavily and is asleep a moment later, a troubled frown still on his face.
“Are you afraid of us?” Ahsoka’s voice startles Obi-Wan and he turns to face her, trying to seem calm.
“What makes you ask that?” He asks.
Ahsoka sighs, sounding far too old, “Just… the way you look at us now.”
“No, my dear,” Obi-Wan crosses the room to her side and puts a hand on her shoulder. “I’m afraid for you.” It’s the honest truth, but, once again, it fills his mouth with the bitter taste of a lie. Ahsoka seems to ponder this for a moment, before closing her eyes and allowing herself to simply drift off to sleep, a sad expression lingering on her face.
And there Obi-Wan is left the only one awake, alone in fighting off the encroaching darkness.