Anakin hated them. He couldn't help himself. The pity glances the Jedi gave were just too much. He knew he failed in protecting his padawan, even though he had silently promised he'd protect her no matter what. She was gone and there was nothing he could about it. He'd already killed the Son. Like he'd killed the Tusken Raiders. After the funeral, he stormed through the silent halls- even the Temple and the Force seemed to grieve it's lost child. He made it to the steps before he was stopped.

"Anakin, wait!" The voice of his master called out to him. "We are being sent off with Master Koon to aid the campaign on Hoth."

"Why are you like this? You're acting like she's not gone! You're acting like she'll come back!"

"Anakin. I know she's gone. I know she won't come back, but you must not let your emotions overpower you."

"I'll be back later." Anakin stormed off, never noticing his own master's grief rippling through the force. He climbed into a speeder and ignored every traffic law possible to get to his wife's apartment. She wouldn't tell him he needed to push away his emotions. Forget Ahsoka. How could the Council even ask that of him? He seethed to himself. His body was on autopilot as the scene of her death played on repeat in his mind.

Obi-Wan tossed the knife, intending for Anakin to catch. But then Ahsoka had jumped nexu-quick between them and caught the knife, landing in front of the Son. He had asked her for it, and Anakin pleaded with her not to hand it over. Her grip had tightened fractionally-he saw it- as some subconscious part of her fought the darkness, but in the end, the god had beaten her. He should have known, she was only a padawan, and fighting as much as she did was already a feat. But then the Son had told her she was worthless- she had always struggled with trying to prove herself- and tapped her forehead with two fingers. Her body dropped without a thud. At first he had just stood there in shock. She couldn't be gone, she was just hurt and unconscious. Until her lightsaber fell from her limp fingers, and he knew. She would never just drop her 'sabers like that, they were her life. He leapt forward with a shout, but the Son simply batted his away as if he were an inexperienced youngling. Like he was nothing. He was hyperfocused on getting to the unmoving form of his apprentice and sister, that he did not notice the other events occurring- maybe he should've, he doesn't know. By the time he came around, the Daughter was lying, gasping in the Father's lap, the weapon thrown carelessly to the side. All he could do was kneel by the prone, dark, cooling body of Ahsoka. He didn't even get to say good-bye. He didn't know if she was scared or if she knew. He thought that was worse- not knowing you're dying- but he couldn't stop it. Tears slipped and dragged across her black veins, he felt Obi-Wan hovering over his shoulder."You have to help her," he pleaded with the Father."I cannot, your friend is gone. There is no hope. All is lost." His head was hung low."That's not true, there's always hope." He didn't feel his master's wince at the desperation in his voice. He did see the Daughter stroke her father's cheek, then point to the dead girl. He did see the Father sigh."Then, let my Daughter's last act be to breath life into your friend." He gently set her shoulders on the ground, positioning himself between them, beckoning Anakin to sit in front of him. He then said some words, but Anakin wasn't following. The bodies dropped, and the light dimmed. The Daughter's skin became drab and dull, while Ahsoka's black veins disappeared, and a lighter, 501st blue colored her chevrons again. They waited in heavy silence, so the telltale breathing and coughing. There was none. The Knight let out a yell of frustration and pain."Why isn't she coming back! You said she'd be healed!" Anakin's voice rang out in the clearing. The Father looked up in agony as his Daughter faded away. "I promised no such thing. Your friend's light energy was too much for the waning force of the Daughter. There is no hope for the galaxy. All is lost." Anakin let out a wordless wail of grief, and Obi-Wan's heart thumped heavily in its cage. Not Ahsoka. Never Ahsoka. The bright, snippy padawan who took after her Master more and more each day. She couldn't be gone. But she was, and the galaxy would have to live with one less Light energy in it. Anakin's eyes darkened menacingly as he stood, out to find the monster that had killed his young charge.

By the time his head caught up to his body, his knuckles rapped against Padmè's door, and she opened it. The lack of light in her eyes told him she was aware.

"Oh, Ani," she said as she pulled him into the apartment and a hug.

"S-she's dead," he managed to choke out.

"I know," she hushed him gently, not willing to put him through anymore misery. But he continued.

"I- I failed her," he sobbed, tears free falling as his loving wife held him. "She-she was my sister and I couldn't protect her. Just like I failed my mother! Except I got to say good-bye to her. I didn't get to say anything to Ahsoka. I didn't get to say how lucky I was that she was my Padawan. Or get to get her back from covering my room in sand. Or anything! Ever again!" He was openly ranting now. " And it's not fair. Why would the force put an innocent child through that. Why would the council send a child into war? Why did she have to die?" His knees sunk as he dragged Padme down with him. He buried his nose in her hair. "Please, Angel, promise me you'll be safe. I can't lose any more women in my life."

"I promise." She knew she couldn't promise in this war, but as long as it would help him sleep better that night, she would promise to make a planet stop spinning on its axis. That night, he fell asleep curled in her arms, dreaming of his three women happy and alive.

The war was over, and Anakin stood at the window of a medbay, holding his newborn daughter, Leia Adira Skywalker-Naberriè. Her middle name was shared with Anakin's late padawan, and the twins would be raised on stories of her. She apparently hadn't needed to be alive to save the galaxy, he thought wryly. Always out-doing him. He heard Padmè stumble out of the bed-cot, holding the other twin, Luke. She stopped beside him, watching the sky change its colors. Her shoulder nudged his upper bicep.

"What are you thinking about, love," she asked.

"Ahsoka." She made a noise he couldn't figure the meaning of. "I wish she knew that her sacrifice was worth it, that she really saved everybody."

"Anakin, it wasn't your-"

"But it was going to be."

"It didn't happen. Don't let what could happen affect what did happen."

"Why are the women in my life so wise," he asked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I still wish she were here and could meet the twins- she'd love them. And I wish she knew that everything she fought for…"

"She knows," the mother looked out at the appearing in the sky. "They all do. And she's still with us. She's our protector now, and I'm sure she loves the twins." A draft of warm air seemed to dance across their skin, and the babies reached for the tendrils. "Ahsoka is always with us."