Technically, Anakin knew that it would be better off to leave Obi-Wan to die.

He could die. Anakin wasn't sure if one sting would be bad enough to kill him, but Anakin didn't particularly want him to die, mostly because, well, that would make his life easier. That would make winning the games easier, period, but at the same time—

"Come on," Anakin growled, kneeling in front of Obi-Wan. "You're telling me that it's a stupid bug that takes you out?" He kicked the bug away, avoiding the stinger. The stinger, Anakin found, was huge—so much bigger than it had been when he had first seen it, back when he was actually running away from the bugs. "Take his other side."

The girl—District 11—didn't argue. Good kid. That didn't mean Anakin was entirely sure she wouldn't turn around and stab him in the back. He noticed the girl's knives glinting in the faint moonlight, and his first experience with that boy from District 12 already had kept Anakin on his toes...but all the same, the girl hadn't so much as blinked an eye when Anakin first dragged her away from the bugs, and she didn't seem like she was going to kill him now.

"Hurry," the girl said now, darting a nervous glance at the trees behind them. "I think I hear…"

Anakin paused.

He swore.

Somewhere in the distance, he could hear that faint buzzing, along with that faint batting and humming of wings. And elsewhere, Anakin heard something else: crashing feet, just barely stifled cries as other tributes were probably combatting both bugs and each other. Anakin didn't want to think about what would happen if he got caught in a knife fight and the bugs.

Anakin shot another look down at Obi-Wan. The tribute's face had already gone pale, his head just barely lolling back against Anakin's shoulder. Anakin half-expected Obi-Wan to stir and wake, but no, there was nothing.

And you said we should split up, Anakin couldn't help but think.

He could die, another voice whispered in Anakin's head. He could die. One less tribute to worry about.

But Obi-Wan had yanked Anakin back from the lava at the Cornucopia. But Obi-Wan had given Anakin a sword, even if he lost it.

"Come on," Anakin said again. "We have to get out of here."

"No," the girl said suddenly. "We have to climb."

Anakin looked down at Obi-Wan, and then he looked back at the girl. "I don't think—"

"We have to," she insisted. "Listen—the bugs are big. They're too heavy to lift themselves that much higher. So we just have to get ourselves high enough."

The buzzing was growing louder.

"How are we supposed to—"

"Hold on." The girl dropped down to her knee, tugged something out of her jacket.

The rope. The rope that the kid had gone and risked her life for back at the Cornucopia. She looked up at Anakin. "You'll have to start climbing first. Get to a high enough branch, and pull him up." She started wrapping the rope around Obi-Wan's waist. "Just hurry."

Anakin didn't need to be told twice. He waited for the girl to finish tying. Her hands were shaking a little, Anakin noticed, but otherwise surprisingly steady. When she was done, she passed the end of the rope to Anakin. Her hand was cold, and her narrow shoulders were determinedly set—too set and rigid for someone as young as herself.

"Don't just stand there," Anakin said, turning around to the tree. "I'll race you to the top." He could hear the buzzing grow louder, closer. The wings—

But he heard the girl let out a short, shaky laugh. "Don't bet on it," she said, and he saw her move to the other side of the trunk.

With those words exchanged, Anakin tied the rest of the rope around his own waist. He took a step back, and huffing out a breath, he jumped up to the tree.

He caught a branch and tugged himself up. His boots found the edge of the trunk, and Anakin almost slipped off right away—stupid boots were too loose—but then he re-adjusted his grip, managed to pull himself up before he could fall. Anakin reached up for another branch, brought himself a foot higher before he start to feel the tug of the rope around his waist. He knew he still had a bit of rope left before he would need to actually pull Obi-Wan up with him, but for now…

Anakin heard District 11 moving around the other end of the tree. She was already somewhere above him, but Anakin didn't mind. If the kid was above him, then that was good. She could be a lookout.

Anakin heard more buzzing, and another shout from somewhere on the other end of the forest. Faint, but a shout nonetheless. Anakin wondered how many tributes had died tonight.

He climbed up another branch, ignoring the scrape and pull against his hands as he made his way up the tree. He felt another tug around his waist, but Anakin didn't dare look down as he climbed another few feet. District 11 was far above him now, at least three or four branches above. He could hear her light steps balancing along the edge of a branch.

"Hurry," she said again.

"Trying," Anakin muttered. He stepped off to a branch, looked down to the ground. The rope had pulled for long enough. Now Anakin would just have to pull Obi-Wan up—

But then there was a sudden crashing sound through the trees, and Anakin turned to see the first glimmer of translucent wings.

His heart sank.

He had to pull now.

Anakin yanked at the rope. He took a half-step back, grateful that the branch he was standing on was thicker than the others, but all the same...Anakin felt a breeze suddenly pass by him, lifting the hairs on the back of his neck. And with it, a smell. Something dead and rotting.

Anakin almost gagged, but he kept pulling at the rope. Obi-Wan wasn't as heavy as Anakin thought he'd be, but he was still pulling a dead weight up a tree, and Anakin had to lean back again to—

District 11 was suddenly at his side, grabbing onto Anakin's elbow.

"Don't fall," she said.

A bead of sweat rolled down Anakin's cheek. "Wasn't going to," he managed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see more wings—the flash of a stinger—District 11 was right in the fact that the bugs didn't seem to want to come any higher than they already were, but all the same, Obi-Wan was still only slowly inching his way up.

Anakin huffed out another breath as he pulled. His shoulders and his arms burned, but he kept pulling, even as that rotting smell came overwhelmingly closer.

District 11 let go of Anakin's arm and with a flick of her wrist, a knife flew. Anakin heard the thunk and screech of a bug hitting a tree trunk. Anakin didn't dare look though, not as he concentrated on pulling Obi-Wan up. He was coming closer now…

More angry buzzing.

And then another thunk, another screech.

Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan's shoulders, tugged him up to the branch. They both fell back against the trunk, and Anakin had to wrap an arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders to keep themselves from both toppling off the tree.

District 11 hovered at the end of the branch. She lowered herself on a knee, looked intently down at the other trees. Anakin could see the still shining stinger and the wings, though they had drooped since the kid's knives had pinned the bugs to the tree trunks.

"Don't worry about it now," Anakin said. "Get them later."

"No," the girl replied. She stood up, her back still turned to Anakin. "If there's something or someone else…" She didn't bother finishing, and before Anakin could tell her to stop, she leapt from the branch.

Anakin swore under his breath. He undid the rope around his waist, made sure that Obi-Wan wasn't going to fall, and then he made his way to the edge of the branch. He saw District 11's small form already nimbly weaving between the lower branches. She scrambled up one of the tree trunks, reached over to pull out her knife from the bug.

Anakin saw the bug's arm—its human arm, Anakin realized with a twist in his stomach—twitch, but when it fell to the ground, it didn't get back up. He still stood at the edge of the branch, though, as District 11 leapt to the other tree. She yanked out her other knife there too, and then she was turning back around to Anakin with a near-cocky grin. See? I told you.

Anakin rolled his eyes and gestured. Come here.

District 11 grinned. She slipped the knives at her sides and started to climb back.

That was when Anakin noticed that the second bug was starting to move again. It wasn't falling like the other bug had—but now its wings were beating lazily, slowly. Its arms twitched.

And then it lifted its head, and Anakin made out its black, beady eyes—watched as they focused right on District 11, who was now making her way back to Anakin.

Anakin's blood ran cold. "Kid," he said, reaching out. "Hurry up."

"I know, I know," the girl said, jumping up a branch. "Stop—"

"No," Anakin said urgently, leaning from the branch. If he leaned a little more, he could probably bring the girl up to their branch. He watched the bug slowly drift away from the trunk. "Hurry. It's not—" He meant to tell her not to look, but it was too late. District 11 turned around, and then her step faltered.

And then she was slipping—

Anakin didn't think. He lunged forward, his shoulder protesting as the girl's sudden weight nearly dragged him down. But Anakin kept ahold of himself on the branch, let out a small gasp as he started to drag District 11 back up. The bug was wide awake now, and Anakin saw its still translucent wings flash just as he—

Anakin yanked both the girl and himself backwards, and if the tree branch was just a little thinner, they would have both rolled off for sure, but the girl held fast, and they both rolled onto the branch just as the bug crashed into the trunk below them.

The branch trembled, and Anakin heard the girl let out a sharp little cry as they all shook. Anakin gripped the underside of the branch, grabbed the girl's arm. There was another thump against the tree trunk, and the branch shook again.

Anakin swallowed.

It was going to be a long night.

Ahsoka didn't remember falling asleep. She didn't think it would be possible to fall asleep when there was a giant bug banging itself against the trunk of the tree, but she fell asleep, and when she woke up, her body ached from being wound so tight for so long.

And for a disorienting second, Ahsoka thought that the bug had gone—but when she looked down, she found the bug still there, its ugly form all the uglier now in the grey morning light.

Up this close, Ahsoka could see more details of the bug that she hadn't seen before. Human arms, yes, but...at first, Ahsoka thought that there were just patches of burned skin, but now up this close, Ahsoka could see that there were actually—

The rotting smell suddenly made sense.

Ahsoka's stomach twisted, and she thought she would lose whatever was left in her stomach right there if District 3 hadn't stirred awake beside her.

"What—"

"Its arms," Ahsoka whispered. "I think—"

District 3 blinked a few times, and then he, too, looked down at the bug.

They were quiet for a long time.

Ahsoka looked at the stitches on the arms. Not burns, as she had thought, but different patches of skin. A whole map of the deepest browns to the lightest of whites, stitched together. Ahsoka saw one patch of freckled skin. Another still had a scar from some old wound—

The bug thudded its head against the trunk again, and this time, Ahsoka almost toppled off—almost. She grabbed ahold of the branch before she could. Her hand trembled as she did so, though, trembled so hard. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes then. Close her eyes and go home. This is enough.

But Ahsoka's other hand fumbled for the knife strapped to her side. It was bright out. She could put the bug out of its misery now at least.

District 3 didn't move as Ahsoka steadied her aim. She waited one moment, two.

When the bug hit its head again, Ahsoka's knife found its mark.

The bug stopped moving. Its arms flailed for a moment, and then they dropped along with the rest of the bug.

For a moment, neither Ahsoka nor District 3 said anything.

"Good shot," District 3 said at last.

"Thanks." Ahsoka didn't feel like saying much more. She rose slowly to her feet, her whole body still aching and groaning as she undid the kinks in her muscles. She turned slowly in place, taking in the pine trees that still towered around them. Below, Ahsoka could see the dead bugs that she had taken care of the night before—and the dead bug that District 1 must have stung himself on.

District 1…

Ahsoka looked to the trunk now, where the tribute was still propped up.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

And right next to Ahsoka, Anakin Skywalker.

"He doesn't look good," Ahsoka said at last, nodding to Obi-Wan. His face had gone all white, covered by the faintest sheen of sweat. Ahsoka could make out the bruised colored shadows under his eyes, an uglier shade of pink-purple-red rising up in his cheeks and, when Ahsoka looked, his hand. That must have been where the idiot had stung himself.

Anakin looked too. He muttered something Ahsoka couldn't make out. But then he was walking over to Obi-Wan, one hand pressing flush against the tribute's face. "He's burning up."

"Is the stinger still…"

Anakin looked down at Obi-Wan's hand. "No."

"Okay." Ahsoka let out a breath. She looked down at the bug. It was still pinned against the trunk.

She lowered herself down the branch.

"What are you—"

"Just getting my knife," Ahsoka replied. "It's dead this time."

She walked to the bug. She tried not to look at the arms, but it was hard not to, not when they were right there, and the smell was so strong—Ahsoka's eyes watered. She rubbed an arm over her eyes, plucked out the knife. She watched the bug slide down the trunk, crash into the other dead bug right below.

Ahsoka climbed back up to the branch, perched herself next to Anakin and looked at Obi-Wan.

His chest was rising and falling in an uneven rhythm, his breaths short and shallow. Ahsoka looked down at Obi-Wan's hand too, even though she had already seen that sickening purple-pink shade. She set her hand over his, just briefly—just enough to feel the heat radiating there, too.

"We just have to cool it down," Ahsoka said. "With…water."

"I don't have any," Anakin replied. "Do you?"

Ahsoka became aware of how thirsty she was. "No," she replied.

Anakin let out a frustrated sigh. "That's what I thought."

Ahsoka tried to think. But realizing that she didn't have water—and realizing that Anakin didn't have water either made thinking difficult. She brushed her hands against her pants and looked up at the branches above. If she could maybe get a good look at where they were—and maybe, if they were close to the snow, that could probably work—

"You're from District 11, right?"

Ahsoka looked down at Anakin. "Yeah," she replied. "You're from District 3."

"That's right."

They both sat there.

"I'm Ahsoka," Ahsoka said at last.

"Anakin."

They were quiet for a moment longer before Ahsoka stuck out her hand.

Anakin looked down, then looked at Ahsoka.

Ahsoka thought she saw him smile when he took it. He gave her hand a quick shake, and then Ahsoka almost smiled, too.

But there were other things to do.

"If none of us have water," she said, pulling herself up to the branch above them, "the only water source in this place might be the snow. Did you see it?"

"Yeah," Anakin replied. "But that could be too far."

"It might be the only chance any of us have," Ahsoka said. She climbed up another branch. Her head was already starting to hurt from lack of water, and she didn't want to think about what would happen to her if she didn't have any water for another day. How that might influence her own climbing and her own fighting now. And if she came across those bugs again—she didn't think she would. The gamemakers seemed to only ever pull one trick at a time, but there was also that boy from District 10 to worry about, and then the tributes from District 2 and 4...those were the tributes Ahsoka was most worried about, and she didn't think her own dehydrated self would be able to fend them off.

Obi-Wan was completely out of the question—that was, if he was at all prone to alliances in the first place. And Anakin didn't seem to have a weapon on him, either.

Ahsoka reached the branch above her. Higher and higher she went, until she could make out a decent portion of the grey sky, and—

Ahsoka reached the top of the tree with a gasp of fresh air. She hadn't realized how suffocating the forest itself was—which was odd, because she didn't think a forest should be suffocating in the first place, but now, Ahsoka peered over the forest and tried to even out her breaths.

She turned. There, in the distance, she saw the volcano that held the Cornucopia. A plume of thick smoke was rising steadily from its center, and from this distance, Ahsoka could make out the great angry red occasionally spitting out. She turned to the other side. She found more green forest, but yes, much closer now, she could make out the snow.

Ahsoka climbed down the tree, careful not to trip and fall again.

"It's not as far as we thought," Ahsoka said, settling to the branch. "We could probably make it in a few hours if we don't run into trouble."

"Right," Anakin said. "So we don't run into trouble."

Obi-Wan remembered the first time he ran into trouble.

The first time…

He had been in class with the other children. A teacher had been saying something about the history of the games. Something about riots and rebellion and ungrateful people in a district now buried underground. Someone had tossed a balled up piece of paper at Obi-Wan's head. He had unfurled the paper to find the message: are you ready for your turn yet?

Obi-Wan had stuffed the message in his pocket, and he had thrown it out on his walk back home. He hadn't brought it up to his father. But the message came the next day, and the day after that, and then Obi-Wan caught the person who had been throwing the messages in the first place.

He didn't remember throwing the first punch, exactly. He didn't think he threw the first punch. But he had gone home with a black eye, and his father had taken one look at him and told him to sit down.

The pain had been bad—Obi-Wan had just been a child then. A stupid, naive eleven year old who had a shorter temper and a lower pain tolerance, but still. Obi-Wan remembered how he had squirmed under his father's touch, and how he had winced for the days to come whenever he touched the space near his eye.

That pain was nothing like what Obi-Wan felt now: the constant burning in his core, his face, and worst of all, his hand—

And that had been another pain that Obi-Wan thought of from his own childhood—the first time he had accidentally cut himself toying with a knife in the backyard. Back when he had just started using weapons on his own, because at least he had come to the realization that the games were, in fact, real. In the end, he had cut himself, and he had tried to wrap his own hand up in bandages. It healed on its own, but Obi-Wan had spent a good portion of the day frantically trying to clean up the blood dripping on the sink.

Obi-Wan heard voices above him now. Worried voices—a girl's, one that Obi-Wan only vaguely recognized, though he couldn't quite put a finger on it—

And then another voice: lower, more familiar. Obi-Wan felt some instant exasperation at that voice, although he couldn't quite figure out the reason behind that, either.

He was just tired. If he was less tired, perhaps Obi-Wan could actually figure out who these people were, but he was tired, and his whole body ached, and even breathing felt like an effort.

Obi-Wan dragged open his eyes.

He became aware of two things:

One, that his hand was a strange red-purple color, and two, that he was being carried on someone's back.

"This is nothing," the person carrying him was saying. "I've carried heavier."

"If you say so…" Obi-Wan focused on this new speaker: a young girl with deep brown skin and bright, blue eyes that widened when registering him. "Anakin—he's awake."

"He is?" Anakin shifted his head back, and Obi-Wan found another set of familiar blue eyes looking right back up at him. "He is."

Obi-Wan tried to respond. Yes, Anakin, very good. Very good observation.

But all he got out was a noise that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a groan.

"Good to see you, too," Anakin said, turning back around. "Just hang in there…"

Obi-Wan wanted to remark that he really had no other option than to hang on, didn't he—but those words, too, seemed lost on him. He rested his feverish—because he was feverish, he realized. Burning up from the inside-out.—forehead on Anakin's shoulder and closed his eyes.

Somewhere at Obi-Wan's side, the girl was speaking again, her voice softer but still there: "I think we really will make it soon, and then we can bring that swelling down…"

Fools, Obi-Wan only thought, sinking against Anakin's back. Absolute fools, all of them.

Anakin's shoulders were actually killing him.

But he wasn't about to admit that to Ahsoka—not when they were getting so much closer to the snow. He adjusted his grip on Obi-Wan. He had long since fallen asleep, it seemed, even despite that brief moment of consciousness. Anakin thought he heard Obi-Wan mumble something—fools—but when Anakin turned back around, Obi-Wan's eyes were closed.

"Not much farther," Ahsoka was saying now. She had taken to climbing the trees, and every so often, she reappeared on a branch at Anakin's side with the occasional update of things. They were nearing the snow, was the essence of each update. Anakin wanted to tell Ahsoka after a while that yes, he knew, but it gave the kid something to do, and Anakin wasn't about to take that away from her.

"So," Anakin said after a while, "how old are you, anyways?"

"Fourteen," Ahsoka replied. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen," Anakin said.

"I thought so."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not supposed to mean anything," Ahsoka replied. "It just means that I thought you were eighteen. Did you think I was fourteen?"

Anakin looked closely at Ahsoka. She was slight, small, like almost every other child Anakin had seen in his own district. There was maybe just the slightest more muscle in Ahsoka's arms—probably from time out in the fields. District 11. But besides that…

"Maybe younger," Anakin replied.

"Hm," was Ahsoka's only comment. If that could count as a comment.

They walked in silence for a while. Anakin adjusted his grip on Obi-Wan again.

And that must have been a signal enough, because Ahsoka said, "We should take a break."

"No," Anakin said automatically. "You said it yourself—we're almost there."

"We're taking a break," Ahsoka said firmly. She stopped in her tracks, sat down against a tree. "Just for a few minutes." She took out her knife, dug it into the side of the tree. Anakin watched as she sawed off a strip of the bark, handed a piece over to Anakin. He took it gratefully, but he didn't bother with it until he had seated Obi-Wan and himself down.

Anakin paused, rested a hand against the side of Obi-Wan's face. Still too hot.

Anakin tilted his head back against the tree trunk and looked up at the grey patch of sky. Wondered if maybe there were any sponsors watching the games now—if maybe Padmé or Obi-Wan or Ahsoka's mentors, really, could get them some water. Or some medicine to help with Obi-Wan's hand. Something.

A ticket out of these games, Anakin thought bitterly. That would be what Anakin wanted most.

He looked down at Obi-Wan. His breathing had slowed considerably now.

Anakin turned back around. Somehow….Anakin thought about what would happen if they actually got to the snow. The cold water might not be enough with the sting—there had to be something more to it, because Obi-Wan's hand looked bad.

"Let's go," Anakin said, finishing the rest of the bark. He stood up, repositioned Obi-Wan around his shoulders. "The sooner we get to the snow, the better."

Ahsoka nodded slowly. She pushed herself up to her feet. Brave kid—Anakin could see that she was starting to grow just as tired as himself, but she, too, pressed on. Anakin watched her start to climb another tree, and he almost suggested that she come back down, but she was already up the third and fourth branches by the time he remembered he had to actually open his mouth to tell her to stop.

Anakin let out a short breath, dropped his head. His feet blurred briefly before him. It wasn't that Obi-Wan was too heavy—he hadn't been lying to Ahsoka when he said he had carried heavier before, but...he was thirsty, and there were other things that were weighing Obi-Wan down. Like the swords. Anakin had been glad to see the other sword with Obi-Wan, considering he had lost his own to a child, but—

There was so much—

Anakin forced his eyes open. Focus. He had to stay focused, otherwise he could—

Anakin heard feet rushing his way, and he dove to the side in time to see a familiar head of dark hair blur past him. That, and the glint of a sword—

Speaking of the child—

District 12 was back.

Ahsoka's head was spinning by the time she came up for air from the trees. A colder wind blew past her this time, and Ahsoka shivered with it. She wound her jacket tighter around herself, grateful for the insulation, but still...as another wind whipped past, Ahsoka had the feeling that she'd want another layer by the time they reached the snow.

Ahsoka looked back to the trees behind her. There had eerily been little movement since Anakin and she took care of the bug this morning, but given the amount of chaos last night, she didn't think there would be any nasty surprises from the gamemakers.

Ahsoka shivered again, this time having nothing to do with the cold. The arms…

She had seen some form of mutation played in the games before. Dogs with human eyes, birds with human voices. But all that skin…

Ahsoka was grateful for the wind this time around, because it at least cleared the nausea already starting to creep back up on her. She took another deep breath and, looking around the arena one last time, she started her descent.

Down and down she went, and for a moment, all Ahsoka could see were the other dark branches below her. She suddenly imagined she was back home, and she was just climbing down from a tree to meet her brothers. They'd race each other back in the house, and their dad would wipe the dust and dirt off their faces with a wet towel. Then they'd eat dinner and spend the last hour of the day swapping stories and happenings of the day before their dad would tell them to go to bed. ("We'll go to bed," Sinker would say, "but that doesn't mean we'll go to sleep.")

Ahsoka climbed down the rest of the tree. She wasn't home. Home didn't have pine trees.

And home didn't sound like swords clashing.

Ignoring the jump in her chest, Ahsoka hurried down the rest of the tree. Stupid, she thought. She had been up at the top of the tree for too long. She hadn't noticed anyone creeping up on them, and—

Ahsoka jumped down from the lower branches to find Anakin shoving back a boy with his sword. Obi-Wan was propped against the base of the tree, eyes still closed—he looked worse, Ahsoka realized. Much worse. But he was at least out of the way, and Ahsoka looked up now to make out who exactly was attacking them.

Small, green eyes, dark hair. Probably the youngest out of all the tributes. District 12.

The boy was holding a sword that was too heavy for himself, Ahsoka could tell. And yet, that didn't seem to hold him back from making a very near attempt for Anakin's torso. Anakin sidestepped, kicked the boy square in the back. With his size and strength, Ahsoka knew that Anakin could take over easily—and yet, he still drew back.

Ahsoka palmed the knives at her side. She wondered if—

But Ahsoka's hands stayed. Killing a bug was different than killing a person, and a person that much younger than herself.

But they couldn't just stay here, and someone had to give in eventually. Or maybe, Ahsoka thought, maybe they could get him to stop for just a moment, and then—

Or maybe not, Ahsoka thought, rolling over to the side as the sword came swinging her way. Ahsoka came up on her knee, grabbed the knives at her sides. She stuck out her leg in an attempt to trip the boy, but he jumped over, and in a flash, his sword was coming down.

Ahsoka dove back just barely. She still felt the blade come dangerously close to her forehead—she heard the blade's whistle as the boy lifted the sword again.

Ahsoka scrambled up to her feet, leapt to the side as the sword came crashing down again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Anakin coming close, sword gripped tightly in his hand. She saw his white knuckles and his stony eyes as he drew near.

But Ahsoka didn't dare actually look at him as she backed up against a tree. She slipped the knives into her hands, readied herself for the oncoming blow.

"You really don't want to do this," Ahsoka said.

The boy looked at Ahsoka. "I really do," he said hoarsely.

That was the first time Ahsoka had heard him speak since seeing him at the arena, Ahsoka realized.

Ahsoka's grip on her knives faltered.

The sword came rushing forward—

And then, at the last second, the boy whirled around. Ahsoka cried out for Anakin to look out, but—

Blood sprayed, and Ahsoka was dully aware of some of it hitting her pants.

A strangled sound.

Ahsoka watched as Anakin steadily drew the sword back out, the expression on his face glassy as the boy dropped to his knees.

More strangled sounds, a wet cough.

Ahsoka slipped her knives back to her sides. She took two steps forward, caught the boy's back as he lurched to the ground. Something warm and wet dribbled over her hands. She brought him down slowly, gently.

After the last breath was drawn, Ahsoka looked back up at Anakin. He still stood, the end of his sword a deep crimson color.

"Anakin?"

Anakin blinked.

"We should go," he said.

"Shouldn't we…"

"Shouldn't we what?" Anakin asked roughly. "They'll pick up his body anyways."

Ahsoka looked down at the boy. "I know," she said. She picked up the sword—his sword, the one that Ahsoka thought might kill her. She twisted it around her wrist once, twice, looked at Anakin.

"Better you than someone else getting that," Anakin only said.

Ahsoka nodded.

She looked back down at the boy. His eyes were still open, and his mouth was red.

Obi-Wan saw red.

Red hands, desperately trying to rub themselves clean against a jacket.

"I don't think we should leave him here."

"We can't carry another body around."

"No, I know, but—"

Obi-Wan lifted his gaze. The girl was looking away from him, her eyes set on something else. Obi-Wan tried to look. He couldn't, because someone was in the way. Anakin. But Obi-Wan saw another blood-stained hand. A blood-stained sword.

Someone had died, then.

A cannon went off.

"They'll be here any minute now," Anakin said.

"We still have time."

A frustrated sound.

And then, "We'll be quick. Okay? Quick."

"Absolutely," came the girl's voice.

Anakin moved away, and Obi-Wan found himself staring into a set of unseeing eyes.

Ah.

Two pairs of hands grabbed the boy's arms, tugged him away to the opposite tree. The boy's face disappeared from view again as Anakin and the girl steadied the body against the trunk.

"Okay," Anakin said. "We did it. We just have to—" The rest of the words were cut off by a shaky, shuddery breath.

The girl rested a hand on Anakin's shoulder.

Obi-Wan turned his eyes up the grey patch of sky. He felt something drop on his forehead.

Another.

"Great," Anakin said hollowly. "Rain. That's fitting."

Rain.

More droplets hit around Obi-Wan.

"Wait," the girl said. "Anakin, if it's raining—water—"

More droplets. They made a soft sound each time they landed. A branch cracked. Obi-Wan didn't think rain could hit the ground that hard.

Another crack—this one closer.

Obi-Wan's hand fumbled. Where was—Anakin had at least the sense to keep the sword right next to Obi-Wan. He wasn't sure if that was something he'd have to worry about later, but at the moment, he was glad as his foggy brain would allow him. He smelled something sour and dank.

"'Course," Anakin was saying. "Where's the—"

He turned around, and Obi-Wan saw Anakin's eyes widen in shock as—

Obi-Wan plunged the sword as far behind himself as he could.

Obi-Wan heard a dull cry, felt spit and blood settle on his wrist as he drew the sword back. A moment later, the thunk of Savage Oppress' body sounded next to him.

This time, the girl spun around too. Both Anakin and she looked down at the body, then back at Obi-Wan.

"Pay attention," Obi-Wan managed.

He saw Anakin's lips move, but that was enough activity for Obi-Wan. He closed his eyes again.

A/N: as always, reviews/follows/favorites are greatly appreciated!