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Ahsoka stood in the ruinous Temple doorway, purposefully slowing her breathing to synchronize with the Force. Her lungs were screaming for gulps of air — even this, smoggy post-explosion air — but the Force wasn't for unthought movements. For a second, she relaxed her brow, focusing herself away from the searing pain on her hind lekku. Vader had singed it with his lightsaber while she'd flipped over him. She didn't have time though for more than a second of self-indulgent pain — and there was plenty else to think about to distract her from it regardless.
Anakin. She blinked, as if a brief respite of sight would do anything to numb the glaring horror. Vader… Anakin… she had fought him, fought him till a standstill when the Temple had exploded with luminous Darkness. It'd been confirmed, what she'd known in her heart, ever since her first proximity to the Sith Lord: Anakin was Vader. She didn't understand it, she couldn't begin to fathom it, but there was no time for trying that either. It was fact. Her former master was in eyesight right now, walking away from the temple from where she watched. He seemed to have a noticeable limp — and when Ahsoka dared, not quite thinking, to reach out to the demolished remnants of their training bond, she could sense right away that he was gravely hurt. Yet he didn't turn to look at her, Force-eject her, or take any precautions at all; although she also sensed he was aware of her. He must not think her likely to follow him… not in their condition, not after all that'd just gone down between them.
Well. Ahsoka grit her teeth. Clearly he doesn't know me as well as I thought he did.
She stepped back out of the shadows, smoothly as she'd disappeared into them, and set off at a steady pace after Vader. She said nothing at first, but made no attempt to be stealthy or shield herself. She kept one ready hand on a lightsaber, but for more than that, there was no point.
This changed when she got within a few yards of him. His complete ignoring of her was starting to creep her out, and he was really unsteady on his feet.
Ahsoka cleared her throat. "Anakin?" her voice shook slightly. Her master was hurt, in more ways than she supposed she could understand — but her master was here, after all this time, still unmistakably his essence, consumed by the Dark Side or not. "Anakin," she repeated, trying very hard to seem calm, nonaggressive. It wasn't easy when emotions threatened to overwhelm her like a waterfall. "Now that we've fought, are you ready to talk?"
Then it happened. The Force gave Ahsoka a punch in the gut of a warning, but it still alarmed her. Vader's knees buckled, and he began to collapse face-forwards to the stony floor. Warning or not, Ahsoka was disgruntled, and barely Force-caught him in time before he hit the ground, the black shiny armor hovering inches from another head injury.
She sat down instantly on her knees, cradling her old master's helmeted head over her lap. Old memories flooded back to her, of the Clone Wars, after perhaps a battle or a crash, looking after Anakin on one of the impressively rare times his recklessness had gotten him seriously hurt. This felt so familiar her heart ached — but only for a moment. The cold of his black armor seeped into her skin, and suddenly she remembered this was the man who had killed almost all of the Jedi. Shivering, she brought her guard back up. This could be… a, a trick. Or something.
It didn't seem to be, though… he was injured, if she ever knew it. Vader lay limply over her lap now, and that one visible Anakin eye was closed. Sleeping. She remembered that. Suddenly he blinked, feebly, but Ahsoka felt even sicker inside. His had entirely lost the mischievous glow he'd kept for most of the Clone Wars. His iris was yellowish, and the skin around it was dry, dehydrated, yet raw as a fresh rash — all clearly not from age. "Anakin?" she whispered, and he seemed to squint up at her, distastefully. Her heartbeat raced.
He coughed, and it sounded as strange as it did familiar. Vader spoke with a voice processor — and the speech it emitted was very much his beautiful Force-given voice, laced with equally disconcerting mechanical overlay. When he got out his words, this was only heightened, the eerie familiarity. "Leave… leave me, rebel scum."
(Rebel scum? She'd thought only stormtroopers talked like that. Besides the point.)
"No, no," Ahsoka felt tears tug at her thick eyelashes, and she widened her eyes in a struggle to keep them from falling — while still keeping up her guard, too! As she reminded herself, it had really only been less than an hour since Vader had told her he was going to kill her. Who could fault her for failing to keep all the stress out of her voice? "I'm not going anywhere, Anakin. I promised I'll never leave you again, and I won't. This time — this time we'll be okay." She stammered a little, she only prayed it were possible. Could they ever be okay, after everything Anakin had done?
Trust in the Force, Ahsoka. The voice was her own.
"Leave me," Vader was repeating, but his voice cracked at the end, and he broke out coughing. Then gasping.
"Anakin!" she cried, scrabbling at his armor, trying to figure out how to take off that awful helmet. He grabbed her wrist, but she shoved his arm away ungently. He was strong, but not that strong, not at the moment. She pried it off — then paused, starting.
"Anakin," she repeated, her throat catching in a flood of tears at the sight of his face. She wasn't disgusted — that word was far from what she would use to describe what she was feeling — but, his face… formally so handsome (as he used to brag), was horribly scarred — disfigured. It still seemed raw, as if covered in first-degree burns, but the rawness was separated with patches of dry spots of cracked dead skin. His heartbreakingly familiar cheeks were growing paler by the moment, as he continued to gasp.
"Tell me what hurts," she panicked, unable to think straight, even as she struggled to use active meditation tactics taught by the Jedi. Keeping an objective mindset — that was useless. And Anakin's face — in spite of everything, he still managed to look like — he looked like a lost little boy who needed help. She knew that look from her master's face so well — much to poor Obi-Wan's chagrin.
Even if it weren't for Obi-Wan's anxious expressions, Ahsoka would've been able to see clearly how tormented Anakin would get. She used to wonder if Master Yoda truly didn't notice it. Even though he was older than her, Anakin had always been this lost little boy under all his macho confidence, as long as she'd knew him — why had she abandoned him? She'd known, deep inside if she looked, he had needed her… after all he'd done for her, believed in her when nobody else would… but after all that had just happened, with the Council, and Barriss, she'd been too selfish not to run far away from the Order, away from everything she'd ever known, away from Anakin…
Vader was gesturing wildly to his helmet, trying to snatch it back. He swallowed. "My… my lungs."
Anakin?!
Inside Ahsoka started to freak out, tears shaking her insides though they didn't fall. When Anakin spoke now, with his unadorned mouth — his voice was exactly the same as it always had been… Same as she remembered, so many many times… now all he had to do was call her Snips.
Then the meaning what he'd actually said hit her frazzled mind.
"Oh! Yes." Ahsoka felt like a moron, before she just started freaking out again. His lungs must be charred as his skin. The suit he wore wasn't only armor, it was a life support system! Could it be affecting his brain? Could that be why he was… evil? It couldn't be his fault, that couldn't be a possibility. Anakin was the opposite of evil. Maybe he had brain damage, his skull was burned badly enough! But she could consider that later. She pulled the helmet back over his head, sealing it quickly with a hiss. His breathing fell back into the eerie rhythm of the suit, but he was still pale.
"I'm so sorry." She rubbed her face with one hand, embarrassment diluting her orange cheeks. "I'm so stupid. Is that better, Anakin?"
He coughed, and it was a few moments before he spoke. "Addressing me as 'Anakin' is not stupid; it is incorrect."
"Anakin," she repeated firmly, her heart again racing. Meditation techniques, girl. Maybe… he had amnesia? Force, Ahsoka hadn't felt this scatterbrained since she was a child. "You're Anakin Skywalker and I used to be your Paduwan."
Through the crack in his helmet, Anakin seemed to scowl. "I can breathe now, no thanks to you. This will pass. You will leave now."
"Never again, master. That was a promise." Anakin had always been so good, so kind… she owed it to him. Of all the Jedi to 'survive' the Purge… but it had to turn out he'd as good as caused it? And he'd been her master, her best friend… way more than that bitch Barriss ever was. Master — Ahsoka couldn't put into words why she still addressed this mass killer with a term of respect, but it still felt natural. Real. Vader's evil couldn't be all his fault. This man was her master, and he probably could use the reminder of what he was supposed to live up to. Sure his one visible eye was dull and pale, but it was still her master's eye. And the skin around it was… it seemed to be swelling, still growing paler. Something was still very wrong.
Vader tried to raise himself into a sitting position, only to fail epically and fall harder onto her lap. She sensed discomfort wave out from him, and not only in the physical way. Was he embarrassed?
"It's okay," she whispered, closing her eyes as she tried to calm him through the remnants of their bond. She could feel him actively resisting. Ahsoka's heart broke a little bit more.
"My armor is pressurized," Vader admitted tartly. "I had a chamber in my ship, but I must return to Coruscant for a proper repair."
"I see." Yes, complete life support system. Ahsoka thought quickly. "Can we patch it up temporarily?"
"Do you have an Imperial cruiser?"
Ahsoka almost smiled. That was… was that humor? Good ole Anakin humor? "We'll hurry then. My friends left in our ship, and unless I sense wrongly, Darth-kriffing-Maul took yours, so we'll have to find one of the Inquisitors' rides."
"There is no we." Vader managed to roll off her lap, clenching his fists under his body. Automatically Ahsoka shifted to help him, only to hold back; clearly his ego was damaged enough. To look at the scene, if she hadn't been immersed in all the sadness and horror that was Anakin, it might be almost comical to see such a powerful Sith brought so weak. But then Vader continued speaking, and though she sensed indignation, his steady processed voice and Force waves of Dark Side were designed to intimidate. "If you had any wisdom, you would kill me while I am at a disadvantage. Since you lack it, you should leave."
Ahsoka paused, gazing at that cracked yellow eye, with all the coldness in his voice. "You should know I would never kill you."
"Clearly, I do know." Vader pushed wincing against the ground. His tone was strained even through the processor. "Hence the advice I give."
Ahsoka continued gazing at him, torn between embracing him like a sappy dork and actually following to his advice by getting the hell out of there. Instead, her pained unfiltered wonder lead her. "What happened to you, Anakin?" She was almost crying for real.
He was silent for a moment. Then he spoke again. "Leave me now, apprentice. We will continue our battle another day."
"Sure, if that means you make it through this today." Ahsoka wrapped her arm around his waist, pulling him to a standing position against her shoulder. Strangely, he didn't resist. She was holding most of his weight, and he was heavier than he looked. "Step," she murmured, as she began the awkward trek.
Awkward. Funny word in such a dark situation, but true as hell. Vader wasn't being particularly talkative (if she knew him at all, he was embarrassed). Ahsoka kept thinking about old lighthearted conversation that used to pass between the two of them, and she yearned for that to happen now (they had tons of catching up to do, right? — her less depressingly realistic side told her); but all that could pass through her mind was what — what possibly could have happened to turn her sweet Anakin into a monster? Anakin had always been a sweet person, so genuine, under all his flairs and teasing and rashness. Okay, he'd had the occasional near-traitorous idea, which he hadn't shy about; but that was only because he followed his heart over his head. He'd never been a fan of the political system (in retrospect, not such a negative), but that was because he cared for people, not institutions (well, all Nabooian senators aside — and he still never backed from his opinions). Best for last: he'd debatably had anger issues, but that was only because he loved too hard. He loved them all too much.
Could that be what have destroyed him?
No, Ahsoka told herself firmly. If the Jedi's detachment didn't do jack to save them, Anakin's lack thereof couldn't turn him into this. This was why she’d left the Jedi in the first place. Anakin's goodness couldn't've made him evil!
That didn't make it hurt any less though, seeing him like this.
And even if she could put all this into a question, she figured Vader was not going to give her a straight answer, and she didn't feel like pressing about a topic that was so painful. But before long, it became unbearable; so she turned her throbbing how did you become this way into the physical aspect. Physical pain tended to be less deafening than emotional, as she'd had practically engraved into her brain over all these years.
"Hey," she said, before pausing rather abruptly. "Why do you need a pressurized suit? What happened? And when?" She couldn't help it.
When Vader didn't answer immediately, Ahsoka merely gazed at the ground and kept on walking, not expecting him to say anything.
But then, hallelujah — he did. Even if it was only two words; they were every bit as bitter as could ever fit in an essay. "Kenobi happened."
Ahsoka's mind raced, her bewilderment raging between thrill and worry. "Obi-Wan? What did he do, throw you in lava?" Poor Anakin — poor Obi-Wan! Probably fighting for his life against the man he'd spent most of his adult life training from childhood. The question spilled out of Ahsoka before she could stop it. "Did you kill him?" Her tone came out flatter than she expected. Figures. She was starting to feel numb.
The noise that emitted from Vader's voice processor sounded like a horrible laugh. "Does it matter that much to you?" Ahsoka's spine ran icy cold, and unbidden anger welled up within her. It didn't matter who Vader was, not with this; she had loved Obi-Wan too!
But so had Anakin. Anakin had loved Obi-Wan with his passionate fiery love saved only for a few.
Tears came to her eyes. Back before the she left the Order, Ahsoka had tried harder to follow the Jedi's rules of detachment than Anakin ever seemed to — but the Jedi Code also preached honesty to oneself. Ahsoka had never denied that she loved Anakin too.
Presently Vader paused, a strange wonder radiating from him through the Force. It got under Ahsoka's skin. "Kenobi is not part of your rebellion," Vader said slowly, as if only understanding this as he said it.
Ahsoka started to sweat. Or maybe she'd already been sweating but it was just now that she noticed it. "He…" As if… Was Darth Vader implying his former master was still alive?
No. That was impossible. If Obi-Wan was alive out there, the rebellion — screw that, she — would have heard word from him. Something. At least once at some point over these fifteen years. And why would he not join them, if he was in hiding somewhere uncaptured?
"What happened with Obi-Wan?" Ahsoka asked, with ridiculously forced conversationalism. She didn't know quite how to talk to Anakin anymore, but she just couldn't let this go. Her heart was pounding and aching at the same time, and suddenly it was very difficult again to keep from crying. Certain as she was that the truth would hurt her even more, she needed to know what went down. How else could she ever hope to save her Skyguy?
"What happened with Kenobi stays forever with Skywalker," Vader's voice was level, unrevealing; though it was saying something that he was willing to engage in this type of conversation with her. "Kenobi helped give birth to the man you see before you — the only thing he ever gave me that truly was a gift."
"Your master loved you, Anakin—" Ahsoka began instinctively, but when Vader cut her off, his ferocity surprised her. She hadn't actually known he was still capable of such passion, and it would've warmed her heart if there was any real good about the situation.
"No, he never did! Whatever he may have told you. That's just one way in which my new master is superior. He never claims to love me. He merely does for me. He inspires me. He does not set unrealistic standards he will not live up to."
"The Emperor?" Ahsoka shuddered slightly as she said Palpatine's title. She shouldn't. It had been very much fact for many years. But so had Anakin being Darth Vader, so…
"You're catching on," Vader confirmed, and his tone reminded her so painfully strongly of this one particular time he'd been smack talking Obi-Wan during the Clone Wars. "Some things are more important than 'love.' More real than love. I know this better than you realize." He paused, and the Force told her their was so much emotion there that didn't show in his voice. "And you, know this, Tano: detachment is a Jedi trait, not one of the Sith, but by no effort of my own I feel no attachment either to Kenobi or to you. You are wasting your time, and likely the lives of your fellow rebels."
Ahsoka stopped. She couldn't gaze into his eye from their position, but she could reach out with the Force, searching for any piece of her former master that she could still appeal to. And Vader was injured badly, but he could most certainly meet her with a stubborn resistance — fully backed up with the Dark side.
Ahsoka spoke, and her voice cracked a little, but she didn't stop. "Do you remember that time with the babies? When we protected all those adorable little Force babies from the Sith?"
Vader was silent for a moment. "You should not speak of your memories with Skywalker as if they were between you and I."
"So you do remember!" Ahsoka felt a surge of triumph, and she had to press on. "The whole reason we had to save them happened when Cad Bane took me. Removed my Paduwan braid and tortured me and held me captive and—"
"I had to save you," Vader whispered.
Ahsoka's heart thumped. I. Like he was admitting he was the same person.
Vader continued, switching back to his trademark third person. "Even then, in his weak state, Anakin Skywalker placed more value on the individuals he cared about than on the corrupt laws of the Jedi Order. Only a Jedi can open a holocron; and as at the time I qualified, I saw only one path. I wasn't enlightened yet. Skywalker was in turmoil. He didn't know better. And only a Sith can open the holocron that was on this planet, which you hindered me from retrieving. That is an accomplishment few others could achieve, Tano, but it is one that you will die for."
"That's okay," Ahsoka found herself saying, though her mind filled with sparkling about how not only did he remember, but he'd acknowledged it! — however brief. "We have a lot to catch up on."
"To catch up on my accomplishments, all you have to do is check the holonet histories and archived news," Vader began blandly, but he seemed to falter then, and it felt like he would've fallen if she wasn't there supporting him. Ahsoka gave his torso a squeeze that was hopefully at least somewhat comforting. Vader didn't stop talking about archives. "All Inquisitor's pods are equipped with a general database at least." His voice lilted suddenly as much as the processor allowed, and Ahsoka followed his Force gaze. Her heart skipped with relief when she saw the firm outline of a little Imperial ship, jarringly closeby (she'd been too deep in her thoughts to notice before), maybe that same one that Chopper had messed with, sitting there all in one piece among the rocks.
"Great!" she said, rewrapping an arm warmly around her former master. This wandering wasn't for nothing. It would be stupid to think she could save Anakin alone, but now she might not have to. She wondered if Kanan would be in any condition (or kindliness) to help. Poor Kanan. "I'll take you to my friends, master. The Twi'lek woman you've been hunting is remarkably good with technology, she'll fix up your suit. I'll make sure you're treated with mercy." If any rebel tried to hurt the Emperor's righthand man… well, she couldn't blame them who'd lost so much, but she was not going to let them. "This can't all be your fault." Anakin would not just 'give in'. Never ever ever.
"I neither need, nor do I desire your mercy." Vader's tone was dry. "I am responsible for all my actions, rebel, including—" before the word including was fully pronounced from his mouth, Ahsoka had the wind knocked out of her and was seeing a blur of red light before her eyes.
She blinked frantically, her stomach threatening to empty its contents onto the rocks, and tuned in to the Force. Oh yeah, it was Vader's lightsaber. Anakin's Sith blade. Misery washed over her. She had failed him. She was going to die, and Anakin was going to fly away to Palpatine and kill Force knew how many more people. And she had failed them all. She'd failed him.
If… if only I never left in the beginning…
Ahsoka's skills had only advanced since she had left the Order, repeating the words of Anakin's lessons to herself and striving to live as she'd been taught, just on her own. So… how had she let this happen now? She'd found Anakin, actually done the impossible and been right next to him again. She was not naïve… she had been keeping her guard up — right? — well — at first — kriff… she'd brought her defenses down, falling into the familiar. Open wide all her Force capabilities to help him. Oh, that was it. Ahsoka grimaced. Part of it. Mental Force blast. And she'd thought mind tricks were solely a Jedi thing… either way, she'd let it happen, and she couldn't blame it on expecting more Sithy tactics.
The only way to describe her mistake was with the feeling of being among friends.
But Vader was not her friend. And she'd been too concerned, too anxious to reach her charming Jedi master… who probably no longer existed.
No no she'd never give up on him! …could Anakin really have turned into an unfeeling villain? Maybe his body was just being possessed by an Old Republic Sith Lord or something… a stupid thought, come up in a stupefied moment. She did sense Anakin, his mangled Force signature, and his very soul. She'd sensed him all along. He couldn't be gone. But the Anakin she knew would put everything he had on the line to protect her, even trade himself to save her life… now he was going to kill her.
Or was he? Her senses were returning to her, especially the sense that kneeling here waiting for death would be the biggest fail of all. She blinked, tears welling at her eyes, and clenched a fist against the stony ground. A beat went by, and she blinked again. Where was that red lightsaber in her face?
Ahsoka leapt to her feet, ignoring the dizziness that waved up and down her body. She ignited a lightsaber and set out on a run down the story to the ship. It was actually a few more beats, no thanks to the blear she was trying to blink from her eyes, till the Force told her with a definite drop of her heart.
Vader was already in the ship.
He was in even worse shape, if she could tell anything through their bond. Knocking down Ahsoka's unsuspecting optimistic ass had taken a lot out of him, and she could feel him choking. It was extremely unpleasant; half of her wanted to block him out in betrayal, but the rest couldn't stand to tear herself away from him.
What happened to you, Anakin?
The ship lifted off the ground, and she tightened her grip on both her lightsabers, igniting the second one in its turn. She could toss one up, easy — even as disgruntled as she was, there was no way she could miss, grounding him. But then they'd have to repair it, and how could she be sure he'd even last that long?
Maybe this was justice. She had abandoned him all those years ago. Why would he stay with her now?
Everything hurt. Ahsoka's lightsabers slipped from between her fingers, her eyes ghosting over the low spaceship. Here she was, letting him go again. Anyone who he would go on to harm would be on her hands. Just like his continual suffering would be. He was still tormented, wasn't he.
He was still him?
She jumped. A sudden voice was booming out — it was Darth Vader, loud, measured breathing and all. It startled Ahsoka, but instantly she listened. There must be a microphone on that ship — kriffing Imperials and their egos! Somehow half a smile came to her face, shaking her head. It didn't last long at all.
"I received communications from the deceased Inquisitors before I arrived," Vader's deafening voice was saying, not in a tone as if it mattered, but very matter-of-fact. "They each had their own pods, and at least one other is still operationally intact. It should take you to a civilized world."
Ahsoka's heart was pounding. She gazed up at the ship. It still wasn't high at all, almost as if, definitely as if he was hanging around just to chat with her. She reached vaguely towards the sky for a moment, then her own voice tore from her lungs: "The Emperor didn't tell you to kill me? …That wasn't personal, right?"
The question of whether or not she was even heard didn't linger long. Vader paused only a second, just long enough for Ahsoka to get the feeling he was raising his eyebrows at her. So it wasn't personal?
"My master will understand. Anakin Skywalker was very proud of his apprentice. It cannot have been without reason. Perhaps you bested me today." There was definitely a hint of reminiscence in his breathy tone. It struck Ahsoka to her core. He… he was proud of her? After everything?
"I was proud of my master, too," she whispered, hoping it would reach him.
She wasn't sure if the ship had sensors to pick up a whisper, but she didn't want to mar its realness by screaming at the sky. She tried to express it to him through the Force, and tears welled again at her eyes. Whatever she wanted for him, his reasons were his reasons… and…
He did care. He still loved her.
"Fighting now while my life support is already damaged would be irrational." His voice was even, and it was as if the universe wanted to crush her hopes. It was epically failing. He'd literally had her. "I choose to wait until we are both healed before I kill you. In the meantime, I strongly recommend you think on this, Tano… you would make a superior Inquisitor."
Epically failing. Even now, through his warped twisted mind… he wanted to turn her to join him (a thing he must realize she would never do), all so she wouldn't have to die.
So he wouldn't have to kill her.
Same difference.
Ahsoka stooped down to retrieve her lightsabers, but her gaze didn't leave the ship. Vader was flying away now, higher between the murky stones into the dim atmosphere… he was leaving her.
But she wasn't going to leave him too. Not this time.
Ahsoka tore her gaze away from fading ship, and started down the ridgy slope. The responsible part of her mind was telling her she better stop by the rebels and let them know that Fulcrum's heart was still beating; and maybe she would head there, but she wasn't going to let Anakin go, not to let him hurt others, not to continue hurting himself… If only he could see… how much he meant to her… that she did care, that somebody cared for him… maybe he could be okay.
I'm coming back for you, Anakin, her mind's voice whispered, a promise into the Force; as she set off to find another way off this sad excuse for a planet. I'm coming back to save you, and you won't be alone anymore.