"It's Life Day, Master" is rated T (PG-13) for brief sequences of zombie-violence.
Life Day is the "Star Wars" version of Christmas
A/N: In the spirit of the Christmas season I bring to you: a zombie Christmas Clone Wars story! It's an (anakin x ahsoka) one too, a pairing I have not written except for a small one-shot I wrote when first starting fanfiction. So if you have any constructive criticism, I'd appreciate it. This is based off a prompt -a very apocalyptic Christmas- and this will only be a few chapters long. 3 or 4 I'm planning. So enjoy, and remember, lack of feedback leads to the dark side.
Funny. You never truly realize just how important something a petty as a colored light bulb can be until its sitting in a mound of decaying, mottled, putrid flesh.
Her stomach churns at the sight and the stench, but after nearly a year of living in what's basically a galaxy-wide graveyard, she's used to it. A bit. Not enough that she's insensitive to the gore and trauma, but enough so that she no longer pukes her guts out whenever facing a corpse. Or parts of corpses.
Still, though. Yuck.
Just as she's wrinkling her nose in distaste, fighting to keep her composure blank and free of revolt, she hears a distinctive groan sound from only inches behind her. This is quickly followed by a familiar voice scream, "Ahsoka!" and her own heart skipping several beats.
She spins around just in time to find herself face to face with any of these walking pus bags that plague the universe. She refuses to call them zombies, because zombies are creatures out of fiction. These things are far too real to be something dreamt up by some active imagination long ago. No, Anakin's right when he says just to give them nicknames. Walking pus bags. Biters. Live corpses. Dead. Undead. Just not zombies.
This current biter, once a human, is snapping its jaws towards her larynx, black teeth gnashing together as its white, bloodshot eyes spin crazily around. No irises or pupils. Just two pools of white filling in the holes in its skull. Ahsoka Tano's learned not to think about who these people once were; and so there is no hesitation in her strike as she ignites her lightsaber and impales the creature right through the abdomen, cauterizing the hole she leaves there. This way, no oily black blood will come spewing from its guts as the light dies from its eyes, and it drops to the ground, jaw still hanging open stupidly.
She shudders to think just how close that mouth was to her neck. How could she have possibly let her guard down so completely?
Apparently, she's not the only one thinking that, because the owner of the scream from before is storming over to her, his blue eyes sparking with fervent concern and fury as he grabs her arm roughly, shaking her a bit. "What was that? What was that?! You were this close to getting bit, this close! Get your head in the game!"
She wants to protest, tell him that she can take care of herself; but her Master is right. She was sloppy. When Anakin had left to check the storage area of the warehouse, and no sounds had followed, she had assumed the building was all cleared out. She hadn't even bothered to keep her weapon activated until Anakin did one last sweep with the Force to sense out danger. There's no room for mistakes like that. She knows this, and lets him vent out the last of his anger in a verse of Huttese curses and a few that she does understand.
Obi-Wan would reprimand him for his lack of control. He would also tell him to cut Ahsoka some slack, because Anakin's grip is unconsciously tightening, and it's beginning to hurt. She waits until he's shaking his head and continuing to mutter his vulgarities before tugging her arm out of his palm. He hardly seems to notice.
Anakin Skywalker is a passionate young man, and though his lack of control now often shows in fits of fury and pessimism, she knows he means well. Which is why she lets him wind himself down on his own without a biting quip from her part. Luckily there are no more dead in the nearby surroundings to be attracted by the noise.
"…seriously, Ahsoka, what in the nine Correlian hells did you see anyway that made you so distracted?" It's the end of his rant, and he looks expectantly at her from behind locks of sweat-soaked hair.
What had she been looking at? She scans the area, and once she spots the shiny blue light bulb in the pile of dismembered limbs, she reaches over and plucks it out. Its intact, so unlike the shattered glass and wooden shards all around. "I found this."
The look on his face is one of disbelief, and she can't blame him. "You nearly got bit because of a light bulb?"
Oh Master… "No, Master, I nearly got bit because I didn't know the stupid thing was behind me. And I don't think is a normal light bulb – it's blue. And it's pretty." Force, did she just say that out loud? She sounds like a three-year-old again.
The wide-eyed stare remains on his face for a second more, before melting into something softer. Something she would often see after she would be injured during the Clone War. Sympathy. Understanding. He walks over to her and sighs at the little object as if it's the bulb's fault for the sudden scare only moments before. "It's a decoration. Part of Naboo's celebration for Life Day. This is a various supplies warehouse, remember? Just put it down and help me look for tools." He turns away and starts sifting through some more bins, most of the ones before him filled with circuit boards and various other mechanical instruments. Anything involving electricity will be useless, since the galactic grid had gone out about six months ago; but Anakin's a whiz with machinery. If anyone can rig something up to run on their makeshift generator back at camp, that person is Anakin. She has no doubt. He's performed just about the impossible ever since this whole thing started.
She tucks the bulb in the pockets of her too-big jacket – just because – and goes back to looking around for any useful supplies. Naboo, thank goodness, had always been a planet with less technology and gizmos than the rest of the worlds. This warehouse, instead of being made of steel and ray shields as those on Coruscant would, is made of wood and brick and has locks that Anakin can seal without the use of power. No fancy computers or anything here. Just bins and bins and bins of supplies, free for their picking.
Heat would be something useful, though. The winter weather outside, without anything to chase it away, seeps in through the walls, and even some frost splays out along the concrete floor and a few items. She pulls her jacket tighter around her thin frame, wondering why, in all their scavenging trips, she can't find something that fits somewhat? Not only does this bulky male jacket and baggy jeans feel like they're melting off of her, but they make it pretty hard for her to move around and swing her lightsaber in. Her lightsaber, which now gets tucked carefully into the pocket with the bulb. Pockets that are ridiculously to large.
Oh well. Better than freezing together in Naboo's bitter winter.
Even as she goes back to looking for food like Anakin had asked her to, she can't stay focused. No completely. He had mentioned Life Day, something the Jedi had never celebrated before the apocalypse. Now that she thinks about it, it's only a few weeks away. Twenty four, maybe twenty three days. No one really pays attention to specific dates anymore. She wonders if Anakin had ever celebrated the holiday, whether as a boy or maybe with Padme. She wonders, but doesn't ask. Anakin's childhood was never really discussed properly, and even she knows better than to mention Padme around him anymore. It's too painful for him, reminds him of the good times, and then the one bad time where he ran into her apartment to find her and Bail Organa crawling around on their bellies, face already gray and smeared with blood, growling and snarling and sneering their horridly deforming faces…
"Ahsoka, stop." Anakin's voice drifts over to her, unusually low and thick.
"Wha…"
"Your mind is projecting over here. So just stop it."
Kriff. She hadn't meant for him to feel or sense her thoughts. She can now feel his distress and anxiety through the Force, and chastises herself once more as she slams down her mental shields and really, really tries this time to complete the task at hand. Food, food, food…
Her search provides only what a nearby vending machine has to offer. This is a materials storage building, and canned goods will not be available. But she takes what she finds and stuffs them into her backpack, noticing that Anakin also seems to have filled his to the brim.
"This is all we can carry with us now," he states, confirming her suspicions. "You ready?"
As ready as she'll ever be. It's not like going back into the frozen, deserted countryside of Naboo is going to be appealing; but staying here is too dangerous. The warehouse isn't fortified enough, and besides, Master Kenobi is back at camp, waiting for them. Worrying, even though the pain of his injuries leaves him unconscious most of the time. She can see the lines of apprehension appearing on her Master's face, and knows he's thinking of their friend as well. She doesn't like those creases; they make him seem older, too old; and she knows the only way to erase them is if Anakin knows those he cares for are safe.
Yes, it's time to go. Suck up to nature and deal with it.
She just wishes her montrals wouldn't numb over as soon as they creak the door open. Its metal, and so are the rusted hinges; the sound echoes to the point where both of them wince, and Anakin's hand tightens its grip over his lightsaber. But none of the dead come rushing forward, and after a brief pause, Anakin leads her out into the snowy white wonderland. White, with the splatter of dark red or ebony blood here and there.
They follow their own footprints back through a thin forest area, the trees spread far apart and wide out. She can feel Anakin's senses stretching out, searching for any threats; she melds her own signature with his own, using their old training bond to aid him before he exhausts himself. He feels his gratefulness flow towards her, and the corners of her lips twitch up a bit at the warm, pleasing sensation.
Even in a wintertime apocalypse, Naboo is beautiful. Icicles hang like crystals off bare branches, and the open spaces are decorated with white ice and snow. In the distance, she can see the northern mountains, purple with peaks of white. If she pretends hard enough, she can pretend she and her Master are just on another mission for the Jedi Council, and that they are heading back to the Resolute, where Master Kenobi will be waiting for a debriefing.
She could pretend, but she doesn't. She has learned that pretending only makes reality hurt more.
Their camp is a simple little cottage, abandoned, that they had cleared out and fortified with Anakin's makeshift security systems. It's in a small clearing, quite a distance from any other homes that might be housing unwanted neighbors, and the few fruit trees had provided a few provisions before the first blizzard had come. Their plans are to stay the winter – or as long as it takes Anakin to repair their hyperdrive – and then, maybe in spring or as soon as the hyperdrive is done, make for Christophsis. The emerald planet that holds rumors of relief stations, refugee centers, and safety.
Oh, if only she, Anakin, and Master Kenobi had been on Coruscant when everything had hit the fan. Then, they would probably already be in the supposed safe haven. But instead, they had been all the way in the Outer Rim, and bouncing from planet to planet, each filled with infested dead, has become their new travel technique. Slow going, but at least they're getting somewhere.
As soon as the cottage is in sight, they make a run for it. Not because there is any proximate danger, but just because that tiny, two story hut provides something that resembles home and safety and serenity. Not all the way, but the resemblance is enough. Anakin reaches the door first, and quickly unlocks it. They both pretty much fall through, into the tiny front hallway that covered with wooden floorboards and some supplies left scattered about. The kitchen is visible from here, all the counters and cabinets filled with food; and they can also see the den. That is where Anakin heads to, leaving Ahsoka to bar the door. She does, with quick efficiency that only this situation, and not the War, could've left her with, before following her Master into the other room.
Anakin is already sitting on an old coffee table, his pack on his lap as he tell the man across from him about what he's managed to find today. Obi-Wan Kenobi looks tired, as he usually is these days; but listening to Anakin go on and on seems to perk him up a bit, especially now that he knows his two younger companions are back safe. He shoots Ahsoka a wan smile as a way of greeting, and then turns all his focus back to his old partner. He's probably grateful that Anakin is babbling on like a nine-year-old; it's probably a distraction from the pain his leg must be causing him. Or, what's left of it.
She can still see it play before her eyes, even though it had been a month ago. Master Kenobi and her own Master side by side, cutting through biter after biter as she tries desperately to untangle herself from the rooftop debris that keeps her trapped on the ground. She remembers just managing to get her leg out from under a beam when she hears a scream, a howl, come from Kenobi. From Obi-Wan, the one man she had never heard cry out ever once. But now he is. Kenobi is on the ground, screaming for Anakin to "do something, Force-damn it, Anakin!" as a ravenous corpse continues burrowing its putrid teeth in the Jedi's leg. By 'do something', Ahsoka's sure he meant for her Master to kill the creature and then kill him. And Ahsoka will never, ever, forget the terror she'd felt coming from Anakin, the Hero with No Fear. Pure, raw fear and panic.
Anakin hadn't killed his mentor; how could he? She knows how he feels about him, knows he sees a father and brother in the older man. She also knew that Anakin wouldn't be able to kill him, even if he transformed into one of them. Not after Padme. So, she wasn't too shocked when Anakin, even in his wild panic, managed to find a strategy. He had decapitated the thing responsible for this whole new disaster, and then, with one quick jerk of his arm, he had driven his lightsaber clean through Kenobi's leg, right above the knee…
It had stopped the infection from spreading, but now the Jedi Master was minus one limb, and this was a rather large drawback in their quest to reach Christophsis.
Though now, it seems the pain isn't too bad. The bearded man is smiling weakly, and nodding approvingly as Anakin explains his plans to rebuild the hyperdrive. She wishes Anakin would smile back. He sounds excited, and his eyes are lit in a way only talking to Obi-Wan cause; but there's no smile, no trademark smirk. She hasn't heard him laugh since the day before the undead arose. He hasn't called her 'Snips' either, in quite a while.
And, though she struggles to act mature and fight like an adult and take all of life's burdens in stride, the child side of her misses it.
She ventures out, just a bit, giving him the tiniest opening. "Want me to get lunch out, Skyguy?"
He pauses in his conversation with Master Kenobi, and gives her a half-glance. "Alright. Make sure you ration everything, 'kay?"
"Okay." She turns around and heads for the kitchen, trying to convince herself that her disappointment doesn't exist.
When night falls, Naboo's beauty disappears beneath a cloak of chilling darkness. Shutters are sealed together, blinds drawn, the doors barred and locked twice as secure. It's a routine now – she and Anakin close up the house while Obi-Wan opens cans from the sofa. Supper tonight is some sort of processed meat, and canned bread. Seriously, she hadn't even known canned bread existed.
Eventually, the lanterns are extinguished, the candles blown out, and the generator shut down. Obi-Wan sleeps on the couch, and while there are three bedrooms upstairs, Anakin choses to lay on the floor near his partner. And there's no way she's going to stay up there alone. So Ahsoka lies next to Anakin, tucked into a sleeping bag, and she tries to do her best to not think about all the new dead faces she's seen today.
Tries not to think about how tonight… tonight could be it. Maybe Anakin's security isn't tight enough. What if a biter gets through? That's all it takes – just one of the dead and then just own bite. Then they are all doomed, and she's not sure if she could bring herself to cut down Master Kenobi and Anakin if they turn. She might turn the lightsaber on against her own breast first, before she has to face an infected Anakin…
Her Master's flesh hand against her shoulder jerks her out of her own mental hell, fingers squeezing in a sign of reassurance. She's laying with her back towards him, and can't bring herself to turn over; but his voice, though a whisper, still clearly fills her ears.
"Just fall asleep, Ahsoka. Everything'll be fine."
She feels him nudge her mind with a sleep suggestion, thanks to the Force, and she accepts it gratefully. She can sense, rather than see, his content expression that she isn't fighting it, isn't arguing that she can take care of herself.
Her eyelids grow heavier, and she just vaguely is aware of how Anakin's hand slips off her shoulder, his touch almost seeming to burn her skin – strangely – as they glide down her arm before disappearing back into his own sleeping bag.
She falls asleep trying to figure out just why it felt like his gliding fingers had seemed to leave flames in their wake. The only heat left in a world now so cold.