I don't own Star Wars or any of the song lyrics. This will be a series of unrelated oneshots, some fluffy, others not so much. (If you're looking for Anidala or Obitine, you're outta luck.) Song info at the bottom of the chapter.
Just a face in the city
Just a tear on a crowded street
But you were one in a million
And you belong to me
And I want you to know
That I'm not letting go
Even when you come undone
Directly after their Umbara campaign, the 501st was understandably given two weeks of leave upon returning to Coruscant. The clones had not gone out of their way to interact with their Jedi leadership; they talked to non-clone crewmembers only when they had to, and barely skated by on just enough respect in their brusque responses. They unanimously allowed Captain Rex to be their spokesman while the rest skirted General Skywalker and Commander Tano at every opportunity. The general understood to some extent and let them be. His padawan, however, was a beacon of proactivity.
"Please, master?" Ahsoka asked out of the side of her mouth. She and Anakin both sat cross-legged with eyes closed in the meditation gardens of the Temple, near enough to a clear pond to feel its dampness.
Green surrounded them to the point where the inorganic spires of Coruscant seemed like a stray dream. Just the atmosphere in this little corner of the gardens alone buzzed with more life to a Jedi's senses than walking down most overcrowded streets of the city-planet. The various trees, the different animals swimming in the water, the countless plants and softly fluttering insects all entwined around the Jedi as they meditated, helping them find balance and peace.
Or at least helping Anakin.
Ahsoka opened one eye to stare at her master and his forming surly expression. "Just one visit to see how they're doing."
"Clear. Your mind," Anakin borderline hissed. It was only the fourth time he had to tell her that afternoon. He vented half of his frustration out in one long sigh; he shook off the rest in a shrug as he straightened his back, re-centering himself.
To her credit, Ahsoka tried to follow her master's direction. She closed her eyes and sought to feel that familiar falling sensation of the Force whisking her away into a proper meditative state.
But it never came.
Instead, her wandering mind flashed back to the faces of all the soldiers as they returned ship-side from Umbara. Their haunted, distant, betrayed faces. The way they watched her carefully from their small huddles while refusing to approach and talk to her like normal. The memories gripped her heart as strongly as the first time experiencing it.
Ahsoka opened her eyes just to stop seeing them.
Anakin hissed out another wave of frustration. "Focus, young one. Your mind's more frenzied than the political district at rush hour."
"It'd help if you let me go and talk to them! Just once, master. Please?" She leaned in toward Anakin as he stubbornly continued his lotus position even though he was no closer to meditation than she was.
"They don't want us there, Snips—"
"Correction: they don't want you there, Master."
Anakin's eyes snapped open at that, his gaze stern enough to push Ahsoka back into her own space. "They're dealing with this in their own way, just like we're dealing with it in ours. I'm not giving you permission to invade their privacy when no one asked for your presence, my young padawan. Now clear your MIND."
The gardens shared Ahsoka's flinch; even the pond hardly dared to make a sound after that. But they slowly eased back into a leisurely routine as Anakin and Ahsoka closed their eyes once more in attempted meditation. Their breathing eventually fell into the same rhythm as the life-pulse of the gardens. The calming pace of nature eased Ahsoka's mind but still left her waiting to fall into the Force.
A sigh broke the silence. "Master, I just don't feel like we should be leaving them alone after everything that's happened."
Anakin quite possibly had already slipped into meditation because his voice was serene as he replied, "Trust the Force."
Ahsoka never actually meditated that afternoon. Her thoughts that night, as in the gardens, revolved around her soldiers. Nearly a week had passed since returning to Coruscant and not one trooper commed her. Usually Fives or Kix would call to invite her to the common area in the barracks, or even Captain Rex would contact her about an upcoming mission, but for the past week, her communicator only beeped the few times her master called.
She didn't blame Anakin for wanting to stay out of the soldiers' way. He returned from his last-minute orders to Coruscant the day the 501st made ready to leave Umbara, having finished securing the planet for the Republic without him. At the news of what happened planetside, Anakin's expression cycled through the horrified sequence Ahsoka saw on the clones' faces before he settled on anger. His emotions calmed on the way back to Coruscant, and ever since he had been living with that faint trace of guilt leeching off of his Force signature, letting the soldiers handle their grief in their own way as he tried to eliminate his own.
But it didn't seem right to leave the 501st up to their own devices. If they had reservations about their leadership, seeing a helpful and present leadership should dispel all doubts. Or so Ahsoka reasoned. Therefore, when her antsy brain refused to dwell on anything other than wild assumptions, she decided there was nothing else to do but check on her soldiers in person.
The 501st barracks stood emptier than Ahsoka had ever seen it. Aside from the constant presence of two soldiers standing guard on the ground floor, the upper floors were indistinguishable from ghost towns Ahsoka had run across on planets fallen to the Separatists. The commons for once was deserted. Overhead corridor motion sensor lights, usually always lit due to heavy soldier foot traffic, were tripped by her.
Finally, after only finding worrisome silence on her search for people, Ahsoka discovered signs of life on the fourth floor. She rounded a corner to see two soldiers supporting a third in between them. Their helmets clattered on their belts as the borderline limp trooper almost turned their walking into lurching; they half-dragged him down the corridor and into the sleeping bay.
There were rows upon rows of identical bunk beds coupled with individual standing lockers in this room— minimal space for the maximum number of soldiers. Even with the seemingly limitless amount of credits the GAR raked in from the Senate these days, it apparently couldn't be bothered to improve soldiers' standards of living.
Ahsoka followed them into the otherwise empty room as Coric and Jesse lowered Tup onto his bed, a bunk standing in one of the rows nearest the door. Tup seemed more than a little disheveled with his hair falling out of his usually tidy topknot, a disoriented expression firmly in place, and the sound of his low, fractured attempts at speech. Coric and Jesse eased him out of his armor casing until he lay in his bodysuit.
"Just... sleep it off, Tup," the medic sighed wearily, sliding a hand over his bald head as Jesse finished stacking the armor in the bedside locker.
"Should one of us watch him?" asked Jesse in a similarly tired voice. "Make sure he's okay?"
Ahsoka slipped in between the clones at Tup's bedside, causing them both to jump. Jesse's hand shot preventatively to his heart.
"Scare me half to death, why don't you?" he muttered as both soldiers gave her a little wider berth.
"What's wrong with him?" Ahsoka asked softly. Her eyes rounded with worry watching Tup, rocking weakly wearing a look of utter discomfort on his face.
"He's been knocking back drinks since this afternoon. We finally cut him off," responded Coric. His eyes leveled on Tup. "I can't stay. Fives is an angry drunk... who knows what he'll get himself into tonight." He skirted his commander to give Jesse a reassuring slap on the back before heading out.
"I can watch him if you need to go, too," Ahsoka offered. With all the distrust radiating off him, being helpful was her best approach.
Jesse snorted. "No offense, sir," he said in a borderline disrespectful tone she had never heard from him before, "but look how the last Jedi to take care of us turned out."
"That's not fair!" said Ahsoka, rounding on him. "You know me, Jesse. You know how hard I fight for all of you. Maybe you need to sleep it off, too!"
A discussion flashed to mind, occurring as the fleet slipped through hyperspace on their return to Coruscant. Anakin had told her to give the clones space and not take their words too seriously in the meantime. Still, their thoughts and decisions stemming from anger and bitterness stung enough to elicit knee-jerk reactions from her.
"No," Jesse replied quickly, although his face shared Tup's alcohol-induced glow. He cast her a sidelong glance and Ahsoka felt his indecision tumble about inside his mind. "I should go help Coric. We're practically the only two who can still walk." He shot her a glare full of blame, an expression becoming more common among the clones, before leaving. The doors sighed closed behind him and all the oppressiveness evaporated from the room; it was just Ahsoka with her quiet indignation and Tup, his senses too numbed for her to accurately read.
Ahsoka sat on the edge of Tup's bed, taking one of his hands in hers. The clone shook every once in awhile and moaned with a furrowed brow as if victim to a bad dream. All Ahsoka's stirred-up emotions ebbed away for sympathy to flow in. If she scanned his Force signature calmly enough, she could slowly delve through the numbness and disentangle his contorted, jumbled feelings: confusion, loss, heartache. She squeezed his hand.
"I'm sorry, Tup," Ahsoka whispered. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me. You're all here now, and somehow I still can't help. There's nothing in the galaxy I wouldn't do right now to help you and your brothers." She reached forward to caress his cheek, but her hand only slipped along his wet face. He tipped his head against her hand.
"Tup," she whispered again. He blinked, then rubbed his eyes with a hand before finally looking at her similarly glassy-eyed expression.
"C'mmander..." he said, his voice resonating from a broken spirit. A shaky breath racked his chest and he winced as he sat up, clutching his head. "Lights're murder'n m'headache," he slurred.
Ahsoka was familiar enough with the barracks' sleeping bays thanks to mandatory GAR inspections, but she found she couldn't stand to reach the closest light panel because Tup held fast to her hand. So with a honed concentration, Ahsoka raised her free hand to the nearest controls on the wall by the door and willed the lights in the bay to dim. When she turned back to Tup, all she could make out was a silhouette, even though he sat within arm's reach.
He fell back on the bed heavily. "Whatt'm I doin'ere?"
"Coric and Jesse brought you back," Ahsoka said softly. Whether it was the smothering darkness or her taking after Tup's low voice, Ahsoka only felt comfortable whispering.
Even Tup's scoff sounded slurred. "I wuz hav'na good time." Ahsoka squeezed his hand.
"You need sleep."
"Mmno. No sleep. T'many ni'mares."
Ahsoka reached up again to caress the side of his face. "Oh, Tup. I wish you didn't have to relive the pain. But I'm right here and I won't let anything happen to you." A fresh stream of tears ran along her hand as Tup sucked in uneven breaths. Ahsoka's attempts to calm him with placating sounds only seemed to make it worse. His next breath came as a gasp. Or perhaps a sob.
"Why?" Tup moaned in a voice that seemed jarring in the darkness. "Why'd he make m'kill my brothers? W-why'd I live?" His voice was lost in his heaving chest. Ahsoka squeezed the hand that still gripped hers but Tup didn't seem to react. Her other hand only slipped along his face again, which seemed far from comforting.
"How can I help you right now?"
"Bring 'em back. I wan' m'brothers back."
It was Ahsoka's turn to breathe in a shaky breath. The reports detailing what occurred on Umbara were hard for her to read. The horrors they endured and unknowingly committed shook everyone, even those who never fought planetside. "I can't, Tup. But the rest of your brothers are still here... you're still here. They need you, too. And I need all of you."
"I can't live with... this," he muttered. "M'heart... so heavy." More uneven gasps.
Ahsoka pursed her lips before tapping his cheek, rousing him from his introspection. "Here, let's try something. Sit up."
Tup attempted to comply in the most ineffective manner possible. He flopped onto his side, and when the direction of "up" was too hard to comprehend, he fell flat on his face, his pillow muffling his protests. Ahsoka kindly pulled him into a seated position. The next round of difficulties came when Ahsoka tried to convince him to sit cross-legged. Eventually, Tup overcame that hurdle as well. Eyes adjusting, the faint lights glowing along the edges of the floor were enough for Ahsoka to make out how his hair had completely fallen out of its topknot and now hung down to his shoulders.
"Now give me your hands," directed Ahsoka. Hands reached out blindly and nearly poked her in the face. She smirked. She at least had the presence of mind to know laughing was wrong because he was honestly trying his best despite his inebriation.
Ahsoka positioned his hands to hover level above her upward facing palms as she sat a mirror image of him.
"Close your eyes, clear your mind. Focus on steadying your breathing." Ahsoka took a pronounced breath in demonstration.
She had never tried meditating with a non-Force user before, but it stood to reason that if these same methods brought clarity to a Jedi, surely they must benefit others at least somewhat.
Tup's breath still came out in shudders, but the more Ahsoka encouraged him to relax and focus, the more it normalized. She was patient as his mind tumbled off after drunken tangents and he kept having to start from square one with eyes closed, mind clear, and breath steady.
Eventually, his low voice broke the silence. "Wh... what'm I lookin' for?"
His hands felt warm hovering over hers. They wobbled from time to time, but he managed to successfully suspend them despite his earlier nonexistent coordination.
"Peace," she answered. "Something to focus on that takes all the negative emotions away."
Another deep breath issued from Tup, a cleansing breath that dislodged a portion of his heartache like the triggering rocks of an avalanche. It was nearly as freeing an experience for Ahsoka as it was for Tup.
One of his hands rose to clumsily collide with her face. Ahsoka blinked in surprise as he felt his way blindly around to the back of her neck and pulled her forward. Before she could react, her mouth hit something soft and warm. Ahsoka immediately smelled the alcohol; it laced his breath as strongly as it seeped from his pores. But for all his incoordination, his kiss was gentle. He parted just as carefully, holding her head close, her wide eyes recognizing the dawning realization on his face.
"Oh, s-sorryssir... that's prolly not..." Tup's apology was lost to him pulling her back against his mouth.
Ahsoka was too surprised to gasp— or even to make any sound at all. She'd never been kissed before. She certainly saw enough holofilms and dramas to know how to properly respond, but part of her knew it wasn't proper to respond. This was her soldier, after all. And she was a Jedi.
And yet, it was only a kiss. Besides his firm hold under her rear lek, his other hand never left its hovering spot, although her hands dangled in the air, forgotten in her lingering surprise. Ahsoka wasn't exactly sure how long their lips touched, but it was enough time for his aching, raw emotions to dull, covered by a peaceful balm so elusive in her own meditations lately.
He was mending.
Finally, Tup released her for good, letting Ahsoka withdraw hesitantly. She vented a familiar breath— one prescribed in her training to quickly release building emotion. This certainly wasn't like any meditation she'd done in her decade and a half in the Order. Luckily, the lights were off because with as warm as her lekku felt, they had to be embarrassingly dark.
"This helped," Tup finally decided after an extended time mulling the situation over in his inebriated mind. Tup's hovering hands fell onto her palms, pushing them onto the mattress as his whole body wobbled.
Ahsoka freed her hands to grasp his shoulders. She crawled out of his bed and eased him back against his pillow. Leaning over him, she asked, "Can you sleep, Tup?"
"N...not alone," he said almost in a pained wheeze.
This time, Ahsoka's hand found his as she kneeled next to his bunk. "That's fine," she whispered. "Just rest; I'll be here."
His numb brain still had room for embarrassment to grow in the lengthening silence, awkwardly pushing against Ahsoka's own senses. It wasn't a far stretch of the imagination to assume he was reflecting on their kiss. She stretched out her other hand to stroke through his hair— a supposedly soothing gesture she also saw in holofilms.
Tup's hair was thick and not quite as soft as she was expecting. It took a sense of commitment to run her fingers through the entire length of it, but the action seemed to be helping. His emotions dimmed as his breathing grew louder and soon Tup's shallow snoring heralded his descent into sleep.
The warmth drifting from him combined with the encompassing darkness almost lulled Ahsoka into sleep herself. Until she heard—
"It's the eye of the rancor, it's the thrill of the fight!" coming garbled from somewhere out in the corridor. It was a happy, uncoordinated voice.
"Vod, you don't even know the lyrics when you're sober," was the muffled response.
The door to the sleeping bay sighed open to reveal the silhouettes of one clone supporting another around his shoulder.
"Aye... was it wrong?" the tipsier one asked, indignation creeping into his voice even though a wide smile was plastered across his face.
"Try 'nexu,'" suggested the second clone before slapping the light panel on.
Ahsoka winced at the newfound brightness but made a valiant attempt to study the newcomers. Jesse stood there, staring with no attempt to hide his surprise at find Ahsoka kneeling at Tup's bedside. Kix, hanging off Jesse's shoulders, babbled on.
"Eye of the... nexu? Yeah, yeah— that sounds right." Kix perked up upon noticing Ahsoka as well. "Hey, Commander! It's the eye of the nexu! Did you know that?"
With a groan, Jesse escorted him further into the bay towards his own bunk.
Coric entered not much later with the body of an unconscious Fives sagging across both shoulders. Unlike Jesse, Coric purposefully ignored Ahsoka as he passed her.
Not a minute later, Jesse appeared at Tup's bunk, looming over his commander like a predator, the distrust he still radiated as stifling as the polluted smog spewing from the industrial sector. "We've got it covered now. Sir." At least this time his insubordination was in check. Now he was just edgy. With a suspicious parting glance, he retreated in the direction of Kix's bunk.
Tup stirred as Ahsoka withdrew her hand and he weakly reached out to her, completely missing her with each attempt. After his fourth unsuccessful try, Ahsoka benevolently grasped his arm.
"Nnn... don't go," Tup said in that sleepy wheeze of his. He slowly managed to open his eyes in the newfound light.
"Sorry. I think I've overstayed my welcome for one day." Ahsoka reached over to slide a thumb across his cheek in the hopes of erasing the wince from his face. She wanted to ignore the way Tup looked at her; tried to brush it off as him being under the influence or emotionally compromised. But it was harder to write off his Force signature that pulsed with something a little more intimate than respect.
Ahsoka pushed that current line of thought into the recesses of her mind to be accessed when she had more time to reflect.
"Your brothers are here now; they'll look after you," she said softly. She pulled back from him, quickly scanning the area for Jesse or Coric because she already felt the fog of their building irritation.
"Come back soon, sir," Tup said slowly, as if intent on not slurring. "I can tell you're sad. But don't worry, c'mander— we still like you. Just give us all time to come around again."
Ahsoka's mouth bent in a hesitant smile. "Thanks, Tup." She bade him good night and withdrew from the sleeping bay, meandering along the familiar route leading back to the Temple.
It wouldn't surprise her if Tup didn't remember this night at all come tomorrow, but she would have to live with his feelings and his actions as they continued to work and fight together. Tup, whether acting on pre-existing feelings or alcohol-impaired judgment, left Ahsoka's mind burdened with new sensations that she hadn't expected to be exposed to as a Jedi. This would take much more meditation on her own part to sort through— which was a larger hurdle than it ought to have been, considering how difficult meditation came to her lately.
It would also take more effort on her part to conceal anything and everything about this from Anakin. The last thing the 501st needed as they slowly relearned to trust their Jedi leadership was for their general to predictably go berserk on one of their own. And her master was nothing if not predictable.
終わり
A.N. Song: "More" by Matthew West.
A whole heap of thanks to Starcrier for beta'ing this and actually giving it direction. Without her guidance it would still be sitting halfway done on my computer and I'd be denying its existence.
I swear awhile ago I stumbled across Ahsoka/Tup fanart that got me onto this line of thinking, but now I can't find it. Anyway, welcome (back?) to fanfic Wednesday. I'll have at least the first five ships up routinely, but after that we'll see what tumblr allows. It's kind of continuously kidnapping me.
So on a scale from 1 to Millennium Falcon, how sailable is this ship?