Chapter Text
Ahsoka gets two calls in the middle of Galactic History class: The first is a brief, albeit sympathetic, notification from Healer Che that Knight Skywalker is badly injured and currently residing in the Halls of Healing. The second is a call from Padmé only moments later, declaring, with tears in her eyes, that she's with an injured Anakin and she thinks that his padawan should be there too. Well, the word she uses is family, but Ahsoka doesn't quite know how to process that, so she simply doesn't. And, well, if Padmé’s nearly crying it must be bad.
Ahsoka raises her hand and says, in a voice much calmer than she feels, “I have to go, Master. My master is in the Halls of Healing and I need to be with him.” She hears, vaguely, the Master questioning her, telling her that she can go to him after class, but she’s already moving. It’s a trait that serves her well on the battlefield, she’s been told by Anakin and Rex, ‘act first, think later’, but it’s always gotten her in trouble at home. A volatile Jedi is quick to error, quick to fear, quick to anger, quick to hate.
It’s a trait that makes her undesirable as a Padawan. She knows that she’s lucky Anakin shares a personality so similar to hers. She likely would never have had the chance to become a full Jedi, without him. On her way out the door, Ahsoka, briefly, makes eye contact with a human boy about her age, who blinks at her sympathetically. Right, he had lost his first master early on in the war. That doesn’t make Ahsoka feel any better.
Ahsoka doesn’t run to the Halls of Healing; no, she’s been told that it’s a level of ungraceful childishness inexcusable for a Padawan of her age. Not by Anakin, oh no, never by Anakin. But most Jedi aren’t as unconventional as her master. (Everything in her wants to run. Wants to sprint to the Halls and see her master. Her heart and her mind are at war, as they always are these days, and she doesn’t know what she’ll do if Anakin isn’t okay.) When she arrives, she barely notices the Healers, medical droids, and even some clone medics milling through the Halls, checking on patient after patient- so many, too many. Ahsoka can feel the pain of so many in the Force and locks her shields tight against it.
“I’m here to see Anakin Skywalker,” she tells the Nautolan Padawan manning the front desk. Her voice sounds like it’s coming from very far away and it’s a wonder it sounds as steady as it does. The Padawan catches a medical droid by the arm and instructs it to lead Ahsoka to Anakin. The first thing she notices, with her heart in her throat, is that her master is very much unconscious, something like scorch marks on his face and his hair matted with blood and sweat. The second thing she notices is the presence of Senator Padmé Amidala. Padmé’s holding his hand, from her seat beside him, but she hastily releases it when she notices Ahsoka’s steady gaze.
“What happened?” Ahsoka asks quietly, “I thought you two were on a diplomatic mission.” She can’t help the accusatory edge to her words.
“It was,” Padmé reassures and then looks down at Anakin’s face, expression downcast, “We thought.”
“Who did this?” Ahsoka demands, “I find it hard to believe that the Gungans were capable of this.”
“No, no, it wasn’t them,” Padmé agrees, “It was Dooku.”
“Dooku ?” Ahsoka exclaims, her shock evident in her voice, “Why was he on Naboo?”
“The Separatists attacked,” Padmé looks back up at Ahsoka, “The Gungans were able to capture Grievous, but… Dooku did the same to Anakin. He used him as a bargaining chip and I- I couldn’t have said no. He’s- he’s my… friend.” Padmé bites her lip anxiously and then, quietly, “Should I have said no?”
And, for all Ahsoka is only fifteen ( sixteen next standard month ) and Padmé is twenty-five, Ahsoka feels the need to reassure her. She puts her hand on Padmé’s shoulder and squeezes lightly. “You did the right thing,” she speaks in her steadiest voice, the one she uses for frightened civilians, “There will be other chances to capture Grievous.” Will there? a cynical voice in her mind questions. “And who knows what Dooku would have done to Anakin otherwise.” Is that really the answer a Jedi should give?
Ahsoka remembers Padmé once confessing to her that she had been insecure and doubtful of herself when she was Ahsoka’s age. Maybe, if Ahsoka says things confidently enough, she will eventually believe her own words. Padmé, at least, seems comforted by her reassurances.
“Dooku had Anakin electrocuted at least once- on camera- but who knows what else he did,” Padmé says anxiously, “He woke up once, right after we got him back, and was able to walk to the ship with me, but then he just collapsed and I didn’t know where else to take him.”
It’s at this moment that Anakin groans a little and blinks open his eyes hazily. “Padmé?” He mumbles, “Snips?”
“Welcome back, Master,” Ahsoka says fondly, trying not to let her relief show too blatantly, “You had us worried.”
“How long have I been-“ he breaks off into a hacking cough.
“We’re in the Halls of Healing, in the Jedi Temple,” Padmé explains gently, “You’re going to be alright.”
“ ‘Course I am,” Anakin mumbles, “I’m always alright.” Anakin’s said something to that effect many times over the course of the war. Maybe it’s his current, very fragile state, or maybe it’s Ahsoka’s time away from Anakin giving her an increasingly new perspective, but the words ring hollowly in Ahsoka’s montrals.
“Sure you are, Skyguy,” Ahsoka pats his arm placatingly. A pause, and then, lightly amused, “You look like you got run over by a speeder.”
Padmé’s mouth opens in shock at the teasing note in Ahsoka’s voice. Anakin groans, turning his head to fully glare at his padawan. “Let’s see how you look after getting fried by Dooku for like two hours,” he retorts grumpily.
“I wouldn’t have gotten caught in the first place,” Ahsoka says smugly, wiggling her shoulders, “I’m agile.”
Anakin goes quiet, for a moment, and Ahsoka’s almost afraid she’s gone too far, until he reaches his hand (his only hand, Ahsoka realizes with a jolt. His mechno hand must have been damaged and removed by the Healers) up to pat her cheek. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have,” he says quietly, sounding perfectly sincere. His arm drops back to his side, seemingly already tired.
He seems to be fighting sleep and, when an older Goatal Healer comes in to check on him, she kicks Ahsoka and Padmé out of the Halls, demanding that they allow Anakin to properly rest. They leave, reluctantly, with promises to visit again soon. “Thank you for letting me know about him, Padmé,” Ahsoka says gratefully, “I should probably let Master Obi-Wan know. I don’t want him to be surprised by it when he gets back from Felucia.”
“That’s a good idea,” Padmé smiles wanly, “Let me know if Anakin nee- wants to see me.” She hesitates just outside the Halls, anxiety evident in her mannerisms.
“I will,” Ahsoka says earnestly, reaching out to squeeze Padmé’s hand. The older woman seems worried right now in a way Ahsoka’s never seen from her before. Padmé gives her one look, before sweeping her into a hug. Ahsoka’s stiff with surprise, for a moment, before she hugs back tightly.
“Be well, Ahsoka,” Padmé whispers and then is pulling away and walking out of the Temple, as straight-backed and poised as ever. Ahsoka watches her go, until she turns a corner and vanishes from sight. Ahsoka breathes out her remaining tension with a controlled exhale and trots off to her and Anakin’s quarters, to call her grandmaster privately.