AN: This one-shot has something (okay, a lot of somethings. Actually based on my whole fic) to do with my story Living in the Dark. I don't think you need to have read the other fic to understand this one, just...well it might be a bit confusing. And if you intend to read my other one, there will be spoilers.
I thought it would be cool for Ahsoka to finally learn about Anakin's past, but I also don't think he would have given in to her so willingly. He never did to Obi-Wan, only to Padme, and of course, his dearly, completely trustful Chancellor Palpatine. (Sarcasm. I can't - could never - stand him) Even then, even to Padme, apparently it was hard. So...let's see how this goes over. Tell me what you think
I love reviews!
(And now my other story says 'Error type 2' when I try to update. Any help? Please? I'm stuck! Annoyed, too)
Ahsoka hated to admit her joy at being off Coruscant, away from the battle, but she couldn't turn away from her. Her poorly misshapen tent nearly looked to the point of falling over, but Anakin's mere response was to gaze at it pointedly before giving her a look that meant, You're not serious, are you? Ahsoka, unable to refrain from laughing, smiled merrily at her Master and sat down on the grass. She ignored the devastation from their recent crash - no one but Anakin and her had been there besides a few droids. Help would come.
Quiet was the only word to describe the atmosphere Ahsoka and her master were sharing now. Silent didn't work - to her, the word sounded almost uncomfortable, but quiet was okay. Right now was tranquil and perfectly calm, just her and Anakin looking at the deep navy blue sky, watching the gleaming stars. It was hard for Ahsoka to believe that she sped through them, feeling like she was equal to them. But down here, she felt small, too small. Shivering slightly in the night, she looked at Anakin's face. It was completely masked, but obvious that his thoughts remained elsewhere. He glanced at her, not disapprovingly, but almost worriedly. He had felt her thoughts of being so small in a galaxy so big.
"Master?" Ahsoka questioned, hoping that she wasn't prying, well, she was prying and she knew it, but she wanted to know. Anakin glanced at her, and for a moment his guard slipped. Tatooine. Ahsoka thought of the sandy planet, a dry desert that could hold minimal life. She certainly wouldn't want to live there. Ahsoka's nose crinkled a bit at thought of the simmering heat, but that definitely wasn't on her mentor's mind, "What is it?"
He paused, blue eyes holding the sky, confining it to memory, "Does it matter?" He asked quietly, but Ahsoka knew he was trying to duck her question.
Ahsoka's bright eyes, illuminatingly and keenly focused in on his face, so brilliant in the dark due to her predator background, searched for his. She avoided the statement the hovered on the tip of her tongue What do you think? Of course it does! but, rather, she said, "I think so." After a moment's hesitation, "I know so." She waited, but the gulf of silence, now silence, no longer quiet, lengthened.
But Anakin glanced at her, rough fury, unedged sorrow filling his eyes. He shook his head, stray hairs falling into those too old blue eyes. For a moment, Ahsoka doubted he would speak, but he did,"You wouldn't understand." His voice was uncaringly harsh.
Fury sparked and sizzled in Ahsoka, along with the harsh surprise. Anger nearly bubbled into the Force - what would Yoda say? - but she pushed it back beneath the surface. She swallowed the temptation to shout and yell at him. How was it possible for her to understand anything that he went though? Yet, she did, at least some of it. She was so much like a him, a female replica of him. "Master." Her voice was stonily cold, moments before she would swing into action. "What won't I understand? Oh, let's see?" She added sarcastically, "Even though I lost someone - don't lie, I know you did - it means I never did, then. Maybe I wasn't always a Jedi." She wanted to shout that he wasn't the only one with another story, but she just hung her head, rejection settling over her.
Ahsoka swallowed, trying to rid herself of the foul tasting anger, but she couldn't. She stared at him for another moment, acid like annoyance filling the air. "I'm sorry." She muttered, with a soft, but still uneven voice, "I'm going to sleep." Shame - and that unmistakable smallness - nearly had her on her face in front of her master. She righted herself, stared at him for a moment, and turned away.
She could feel Anakin's intensifying shock, anger, and a bit of relief shedding off of him. Pausing before she entered the tent, she felt a flicker of submission, a gentle way of beckoning her to come back. She forged ahead, tumbling and tripping into her tent with ignorance and anger - blindly forgetting that this was were Anakin must sleep, too.
Late in the night, Ahsoka was still awake, still simmering with unknown emotions of fury towards her master - never had it extended this deeply. It was awing, how he said something so simple, that sent her off into a rage, an unknown rage at that. Terrified by her anger, she repeated the mantra taught to every youngling over and over again. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering. Beware of the dark side, Jedi. It felt odd, so disconnected with her Jedi training, to feel this way. She hadn't allowed herself to travel back through the years and care so much since Master Plo had rescued her. And now, she realized where the fear led to anger...she had feared for her mother all these years, despite her denial, she sometimes feared for Anakin's loses. And it did, indeed, lead to anger. Suddenly shivering with the realization, a new worry hit her in the stomach, If anger leads to hate, what if I hate him?
Anakin was quiet, his ideas of 'quiet' and 'silent' beginning to evolve into more of Ahsoka's thinking. He was surprised by the girl's outburst. Many times when Shmi came up with Obi-Wan, he cried out, or at least thought, "You wouldn't understand!" And Obi-Wan would lapse into silence, meaning that Anakin was right, he didn't understand. But that wasn't Anakin's only concern, or thoughts, since he didn't feeling very concerned. She said she understood - she lost somebody. Ahsoka hadn't actually said who that person was, but it didn't matter.
Anakin stopped dwelling on his mother, someone he had rushed to save. He had failed, though. Force, if Padme, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan - if they died and he couldn't save them, what good were his Jedi powers anyway? But the look on his apprentice's face came flooding back, and a question fell to his mind. What if she was the only one who understood? But that was impossible. Her data file read that she had been brought to the Temple at age three, a bit old, after being rescued by Plo Koon from pirates. Had her story run deeper? Had the Temple, or perhaps only her, hid something?
What if the Temple rejected her, too? Anakin pulled out his Datapad, which looked beaten and rather worn down from recent use and their crash. Searching in the Datapad, Anakin was surprised to find that they had, and that Plo - always to her rescue - had convinced them that she was good enough.
Anakin shifted positions, before awkwardly crawling to his feet. He paused at the tent, gazing in at the small Togruta. Her tiny form lay curled around herself, her chest rising and falling too fast for her to be asleep. Anakin muffled a small grin, resisting the urge to tell her that she wasn't fooling him. He just stared at her, trying to sink into her unknown history. He hit a wall and tried to shove it aside, but he couldn't. She was blocking him with every ounce of her being.
"Snips? What happened?" Anakin tried to sound gentle, but the girl shot into a sitting position so fast that he knew that gentleness might not be a part of this conversation. Her blue eyes flashed nervously; she was quite uncomfortable. What had been said to create such tension? Anakin sat, crosslegged, across from her. He tried to catch her eye, but Ahsoka's response was to stare at the ground, obviously ashamed.
"What happened?" Ahsoka repeated in a dim, dull voice, void as the Tatooine desert. She rose her face a bit and looked at him for a short moment, "I-I...nothing. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters." She said, taking back her, "I know so," of the earlier conversation. Anakin could tell she obviously didn't - or wouldn't - want to talk. He wanted to comfort her, but he couldn't. He felt the tension snap, an obvious reminder it was there. Hesitantly, he lay down on the bedroll that lay five feet away from hers. Even if he had her right beside him, he couldn't hear the thoughts racing through her head. What he could hear was a dim stattoco, not even sure of what it was, repeating something over, over, over again. Pounding, louder.
"Are you sure? You don't seem like it's nothing." Anakin rolled over, gazing at her crumpled frame five feet away. She rolled to the edge of the tent.
"Master, did it matter when I asked you? Was it something or nothing?" Ahsoka asked. Her blue eyes lifted, meeting his briefly. Sorrow, and unmistakable fear, and the ever present anger flashed, simmering on the surface. Anakin watched her shudder as she hid it.
"You said you knew so." Anakin wasn't entirely willing to spill over his past with his apprentice, but as he gazed at the small girl he realized something. Maybe he couldn't always expect everyone not to understand. Maybe...maybe he was entirely wrong about everyone. Maybe Obi-Wan. Or perhaps just Ahsoka. Before he could she speak, she closed her eyes and turned away from him.
"'Night, Master." Her voice came out soft but dry.
Ahsoka listened to her master's deep breathing, in and out, so perfectly even. She knew that he wasn't exactly a balanced, even person, but now, neither was she. Pushing herself to her elbows, Ahsoka stared at him. She couldn't cease her anger - or that stupid fear. Cursing underneath her breath, she slipped outside that tent and back under the night. She looked into the navy blue sky, thinking that the stars weren't that big at all, perhaps she was more than that.
But it was just a thought, just a way out of her unbalanced fears. She was angry at Anakin, she was afraid of her sudden emotions, and she felt so little, like she wasn't even worth confiding it. She shivered in the cool night air, but her thoughts and feeling churned so rapidly, quicker and quicker.
I know I'm not the Chosen One. I know my emotions aren't such a pendulum. They shouldn't be, at least. But his are! And the Temple might ignore that because he's special. But not me. They watch me. They never listen!
And my master isn't proud of me! He doesn't trust me!
Ahsoka's nose crinkled. She stood up, just wanting to run away from the pounding uncertainty. And she did. Faster and faster until sweat slicked down her cheeks and off of her forehead. Her eyes felt fiery - they burnt so badly. But she ran on.
Ahsoka's legs grew rubbery, her heart pulsed against her chest. Out of breath, out of speed, Ahsoka fell headlong into the grass, allowing the bigger-than-life stars to swallow her in their never ending pride.
Anakin woke up suddenly as he felt her fall, her head smacking the ground with a sickening impact. Blue eyes darting to her bedroll, he found his apprentice missing. Anakin couldn't exactly swallow his worry as he pushed back the tent's flap. She wasn't outside, looking at the stars. She wasn't anywhere within his vision. Scanning the horizon, Anakin settled into the Force and used it as a directory.
She had run far. By the time Anakin found her, he had walked about two klicks through the wavering grass. Her body was crumpled, and blood had dried on her face. Anakin stooped beside her, and held her for a moment, waiting. He watched her bleary eyes open, staring at him in shock, "You came for me?" Anakin was surprised by how winded and raspy Ahsoka's voice sounded. Pale and small, she looked almost sickly.
"Of course I did." Anakin chided gently. Why wouldn't I? There was hesitance in the Force. Anakin continued to hold her, continued to wait, "What is it, Snips? It can't be nothing." He repeated, "Your so upset over it."
She began to speak, words slurring. "I didn't save her. I didn't even fight. And even when I hurt her, so many times, she never hurt me back. And all he did was try to kill me. See how long I could last. See how long I could hold out. And then...Irina hated me. They didn't want me." Anakin stared at his Padawan in shock, resisting the sudden urge to ask her what she meant. She had, quite obviously, hit her head, probably resulting in a concussion.
Anakin rubbed her shoulders, "Can I hear the whole story?"
"Can you tell me yours?" Even with the emotional and physical injuries, she was still snippy - still Ahsoka. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over Anakin's shoulders, poured onto his heart. But he paused, lips parted.
"Who goes first?" Silly question, small and filled with hesitance and nervousness, but Anakin had to ask it.
"Me." Ahsoka said grimly. She paused to draw in her breath, "I was little, I shouldn't have remembered this. But I did. My mother used to worry about me more than anyone. She had reason, at the very least. We'd go to the market and I would nearly crash the speeder. I would crawl in speeder race tracks during the race. And then...he came." Anakin watched, concern as her breathing grew heavy, "I hate him! I could have killed him and not cared, for what he took. He set our house on fire. He kidnapped me. My mother said he was my dad, but he wasn't." She paused and her next words sent a shiver down Anakin's spine, "I was sold into slavery."
When Ahsoka turned her head away, Anakin nearly thought she was finished, but she looked up, "My master - he hated me. I snuck on an Akul fight once, when I was supposed to be locked in a shed. I saw my father murdered by another woman. And then I saw my mother there, and we were nearly killed by the Akul. But a pirate killed the Akul, and took me away. I never knew if she lived or not, but on the pirates ship..." She trailed off, "Six months later Plo Koon rescued me. That's it."
There was more to the story, more wedges of detail, more times of Ahsoka's mother's worry - something that his Togruta apprentice had found stupid. And her cruel father - Ahsoka's escape from the burning home. But even though the details remained unspoken, Anakin could see them. "I grew up on Tatooine in slavery. My own mother, she loved me very much, so much she worried about me, too. You know the story of me coming to the Temple, don't you?" She paused before nodding, "Before the Clone Wars, I saw her death in so many visions." Raw pain filled Anakin, but he had to say it, had to relieve himself of the past, "So I went back. The Tusken Raiders killed her, and I - I killed them."
Ahsoka stared, but her eyes gentled. She didn't mind, "Am I wrong because I feel that way...will it, you know, turn me to the dark side?"
Her question took Anakin by surprise; he hadn't expected that to be the root of her fears, "Snips, never give into your fears and you'll be fine, I promise." He helped her to her feet and they began to walk back under the sparkling stars.
Once the reached the tent, Anakin stared at it and winced. It had completely fallen over. "Snips." He said, trying to muffle his laughter, "What do you say we do."
Giggling now, the girl laughed, "Sleep under the stars!"