Chapter Title: In Tomorrow's Morning Light, Things Will Look a Lot Less Frightening

Author's Note: And so, we are almost finished – after this, it is only the epilogue! Like I said at the beginning... Little plot bunny, little story.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership or copyright of anything depicted or over anything you might recognize.

Coruscant

The Halls of Healing were quiet as Ahsoka and Obi-Wan made their way down its halls.

None of them spoke, each lost in their own thoughts; Obi-Wan pondering how much influence Anakin Skywalker truly had over his life and his emotions, and what consequences could follow on how deeply he cared for the young Jedi; Ahsoka's mind stuck on repeat on the battle of Jahloo and the exact moment her master had disregarded his own life to save hers.

Both Jedi were so occupied that they almost missed the distraught figure passing them by in the hallway, coming from the exact room they themselves were headed. Senator Amidala barely acknowledged their greeting, albeit startled, nods, keeping her eyes to the ground so they wouldn't spot the distressed, fearful concern that shone clear on her face. She hastened down the hall towards the exit without a word to either of them.

Ahsoka looked slightly perplexed, curious suspicion wrinkling her brow. Obi-Wan didn't say a word, on the outside ignoring the little scene as it played out. He wasn't entirely sure of the extent of the relationship that existed between Amidala and Anakin. He had his suspicions but kept altering his conclusions as to the degree of their relations. Whenever they came into contact with the Senator, Anakin closed himself off completely through their bond so whatever it was, he certainly didn't want anyone to know about it. But Anakin was a deeply private person, and protected thoughts and emotions connected to both his past and present, so it was impossible to tell if it was to cover up a current or former relationship. So far, Obi-Wan kept his mouth shut except for the occasional quip or comment, hoping Anakin would open up about it whenever he was ready. And he would let Ahsoka figure it out on her own, or at the very least on Anakin's terms.

The little display out in the hall quickly evaporated from both their minds as the two of them reached their destination. They entered the stark, white room, where bacta tanks stood neatly lined up against the walls, various assistance equipment stacked next to the them and medical personnel calmly working their rounds and assessing the patients within the tanks.

The two, weary Jedi found the one they were looking for quickly. Obi-Wan breathed out a deep sigh as his gaze searched the patient floating in the tank. Anakin's eyes were closed in a drug-induced sleep while a breathing mask had been strapped tightly around his nose and mouth, a black tube running from the mask and out the top of the tank to a machine that fed him clean, pure air. The bacta fluid was a transparent blue hue and allowed a distorted, but clear view of his beaten chest. The blaster wound was nothing but an angry, red, circular mark on the left side of his abdomen. Dark purple bruising radiated outwards of the wound, both from the force of shot, and the subsequent abuse it had sustained. The rest of him was likewise littered in cuts, and bruises of all colors, shapes and sizes. Obi-Wan was struck at how young he looked, even though it wasn't long ago Anakin had carried the mark of a Padawan. Awake, Anakin insisted on carrying the weight of the entire war on his own shoulders and that pressure left drawn, taut expressions as prominent as his scar. Those expressions had evaporated now, leaving only the young man he truly was.

"You know, I don't think I've ever been in a bacta tank. Do you think he knows we're here?" Ahsoka interrupted his silent inspection.

"They say some consciousness is maintained but most of the time they keep patients completely sedated until they are healed enough to get out," Obi-Wan answered.

"Then I'll save my apology for later," Ahsoka muttered quietly.

"Your apology? Whatever would you have to apologize for?" Obi-Wan asked quizzically. He hadn't recalled anything that might have occurred between the two of them, before or during the battle.

"He must have seen the ground collapsing because he pushed me and Rex out of the way. That's why he got hit. That's why he's in there right now. He was too busy saving me," she dejectedly explained, her eyes cast downward in guilt and shame. "If I had been a better Jedi, I would have noticed the movements too. And then maybe I could have saved him like he did for us."

Obi-Wan let his shoulders slump with the words as he realized what was going on. Ahsoka was still so very young, hardened though as she was in the face of war. But like Anakin, she took everything personally. Every win, and every loss. He didn't know whether it was a trait she had picked up from her master or if it had always been a part of her. He suspected the latter – it would explain why the two had formed such a strong bond. Those two were two peas in a pod. While it had served them both well, Obi-Wan often mused on what their partnership would mean for the future, both for Anakin and for the Republic and their war.

For now, he smiled comfortingly at the guilt-ridden Togruta.

"Anakin has this annoying way of spotting disaster before anyone else. And an even worse habit of ensuring no one but him is caught in it," he stated, believing every word. "Don't compare your skills with Anakin's – it will only feed your insanity. Trust me."

Ahsoka smiled delicately at the statement, some of the defeat evaporating from her posture. Obi-Wan placed a gentle hand on her slim shoulder and held her gaze.

"You did good today, Ahsoka. Don't let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise."

"Thank you, Master," she said, her eyes shining with barely concealed pride at his words. He allowed her to wallow in it, at least for now. Force knew, she deserved it.

Some of the cheerfulness slid out of Ahsoka's features as she moved towards the bacta tank and the unconscious Anakin floating peacefully inside. She placed a slender hand on the thick glass separating her from her sleeping master.

"I still hope he wakes up soon…" she slowly said. When she turned her head back at Obi-Wan, a sudden, mischievous spark ignited in her eyes. The same one that had created Anakin's snippy nickname for her back in the day. "… So, I can rub that in his face."

TBC