She's gone. She's gone, and it's all their fault. All his fault. If only he had tried harder. If only they hadn't pushed her to the limit where she felt like she couldn't live in her own home. If only they had realized what they were doing. If only they had realized their mistake. She would still be here.
Anakin stood outside the area of the Temple where Ahsoka had walked off for about thirty minutes, plainly staring at where his former padawan had walked down the steps, before slowly and defeatedly retreating back to his quarters. He hadn't paid any mind to the other masters and padawans giving him sympathetic looks.
Sympathy wouldn't bring his best friend back.
Anakin unconsciously turned corridors letting his legs take him to his destination. Ahsoka would usually push him to their quarters when he was too tired to even think.
But she was gone, and right now, he was too tired, too upset, and the tears in his eyes weren't doing him any favors at all.
He desperately wanted his legs to take him to Padme's apartment, but he knew somebody would have to bother him about his former padawan's departure. And he didn't need anyone looking for him while he was with his wife. So he just continued to trudge to his quarters, his depressive state trudging alongside him.
He used the Force to open the door to his room and deliberately fell face first on his couch, burying his head into a pillow, his arms tightly clinging onto it.
Anakin's sadness could be felt throughout the whole Temple. Anakin's rage could be felt throughout the whole planet. But that rage wasn't directed at Ahsoka. It was directed at the people who didn't believe in her. It was directed at himself. Why hadn't anyone else tried to help her? Why did the Council listen to Tarkin?! Why did Barriss, her best friend, betray her?
But those were questions he'd probably never get answers to.
Barriss' words had shocked him when she had first said them. But as he lay spread out on the couch in his quarters, that he and his former apprentice would do together, he started to think that the Mirialan had a major point.
The Jedi Order had lost its way, but were to blind and short sighted to see it. They were willing to let an innocent sixteen year old girl die at the hands of the same Republic that she fought long and hard for. They were willing to crush her dream of becoming a Knight right in front of her face without even giving her time to explain the situation. She got thrown in a brutal and merciless war at fourteen. He started at nineteen and yet he felt he wasn't prepared at the time.
Years and years and years that she spent working and training were all for nothing, Anakin thought bitterly. His anger was boiling like a kettle, and if it got any further, it would've raged like a bonfire.
He then heard a knock on his quarters' door.
"Who is it," Anakin said drearily, as his voice was muffled by his pillow.
"It's Obi-Wan, Anakin," the voice responded. Anakin inwardly groaned. He didn't want to see or speak to anyone. He just wanted to be left alone so he could drown in his couch of sorrow.
"Come in," he said as he quietly sighed. Thankfully the pillow muted that. As the door opened with the Force, the ginger haired master stepped into his former apprentice's quarters, a worried expression plastered on his face.
He saw Anakin flopped on his couch, and if he recalled correctly, that's where he'd usually find Anakin and Ahsoka watching the Holonet when they didn't have any missions. But Ahsoka wasn't here anymore.
Which just left Anakin.
"Anakin," the master started. "Moping around like this with your face in a pillow won't solve anything."
Anakin's head didn't leave his pillow. He didn't even have the strength to respond to Obi-Wan. He just wanted him to leave.
Anakin suddenly remembered when Obi-Wan "died" when he was going undercover as Rako Hardeen. He remembered that when Ahsoka briefly tried to comfort him, he wanted her to leave.
Now all he wanted was for her to come back. It was much quieter without his snippy apprentice, and he knew it would be hard for him on missions as well. It's been only three hours since she walked down the steps of the Temple, and he was already falling apart.
"Anakin, please say something. Anything," he heard his former Master plead. That sparked up another memory after Obi-Wan's apparent "death."
—
They sat in silence for a long time, then Ahsoka took a deep breath.
"Master, please, just say something. Anything. Even if it's just to yell at me, I want to hear you say something," she paused, and when she spoke again Anakin could hear the tears in her voice.
He hadn't meant to make her cry, and he didn't want to scare her, but mostly he just wanted her to leave him alone. Ignoring her was the fastest way to accomplish that. He said nothing.
—
Anakin's former apprentice had always been tough, but that day, she wasn't the war ready, confident, strategic fighter. She was more like a vulnerable, scared child.
"Why, Master," Anakin croaked, head still buried in his pillow, that was now slightly damp from his tears.
"Why didn't we believe in her? What did she do to deserve this?" Anakin asked, his hands balled into fists, still clinging to his pillow. Obi-Wan honestly didn't know what to say to his former padawan and younger brother.
"Anakin," he said carefully, trying to choose his next words wisely. "Ahsoka chose to leave. A Jedi is not supposed to let their emotion cloud their judgement and that's precisely what she did."
Apparently, Obi-Wan didn't choose wise enough because Anakin's cold blue eyes almost instantly shot up from his pillow and into his Master's gray eyes.
"Obi-Wan, the Council gave her no choice! She felt as if she had to leave because they were so quick to turn their backs on her! Not only was her loyalty put to the test, but so was theirs! And look at the outcome-she passed with flying colors, while they failed miserably!" The dirty-blonde haired man almost shouted.
Obi-Wan had to resist the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"She could've died, Obi-Wan," Anakin said, dangerously quiet. "She would've died, if it weren't for Ventress. And I'm sure she much rather would've died at the hands of mindless Separatist droids than the hands of the very Republic she served from start to finish." Obi-Wan was pretty sure he heard a slight sarcastic laugh come from Anakin.
"It's ironic," he said. "How the Order she was apart of since she was three refused to help her, but yet her former nemesis did." His expression darkened, as his anger continued rising.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "I understand you feel angry and upset and lost, but Ahsoka wouldn't want you to act as if she was dead. You're going to have to move on at some point."
With that, the older Master left Anakin to revel in his thoughts in his dark, quiet quarters, a voice echoing throughout his mind saying:
The more pain you cause by fighting in the war, the more it will return to you. And it will return.
A hundred fold.