Not me entirely forgetting to cross-post this chapter. Sorry about the wait, guys, hope you enjoy!
Ahsoka found Anakin standing alone out on the balcony.
From inside, she couldn't see much of his face, but his usually proud, tall frame was slumped over, his shoulders trembling.
She knew this was a delicate thing.
Anakin, since the day she met him, had always been sensitive. He lived with his veins wide open to the world, his heart worn on his sleeve because it was too big for his body. Sometimes it was overwhelming just to feel him in the Force– most beings took on a certain shape in it, had a certain place, but not Anakin. Never Anakin. There was nothing in the galaxy that could contain him, the supernova of emotion he was.
While other Jedi meditated after battles to find some sort of peace, Anakin would confine himself to the hangar, working tirelessly into the night. Sometimes Ahsoka would find him and would bear witness to his insistent pacing and muttering; she'd stare into his eyes that were red and puffy from crying and she'd know he was not like the others.
She learned to just let him be on those nights. Knew that she wasn't to interrupt or judge. It wasn't her place to see what became of a boy who had grown up with a ticking bomb under his skin.
Yet now she watched his shoulders trembling in a vulnerable display before her, his jaw clenched tight, and she knew she couldn't leave him now.
So Ahsoka wordlessly came outside and leaned up against the railing beside him, looking out on the Coruscant sky.
It was somehow quieter that night, as if the planet and all its people felt the weight of what was happening on that small balcony. As if they were all holding their breath, waiting for the reunion that was to come.
Yet neither Anakin or Ahsoka spoke. Maybe it was because there was still an aching sort of rift between them, or perhaps they just didn't know where to start.
Maybe it was both.
Either way, Ahsoka felt uncomfortable.
She knew she owed it to him- to all the work and love he put into raising her, to all the sleepless nights they spent huddled in each other's company, to the countless planets and stars they saw together, and to all the memories they shared. She also owed it to herself, to everything she was because of him to just say something; anything…
"I've missed the surface." She finally blurted.
Her voice was shakier than she intended, clearly nervous and forced. "The air's not as heavy up here, you know?"
Anakin turned to her, looking more tired than she thought she'd ever seen him."You've been in the lower levels?"
"Mostly." She turned back to the sky, taking in a deep breath the best she could with the pain in her ribs. "I used to complain so much about the air traffic obstructing the view and all, but this is the first time I've seen the stars in months, even if it's not much of them."
The small talk was forced, Ahsoka knew that, but she felt relieved when after a second's silence, Anakin laughed, rolling back his shoulders before honestly saying, "I couldn't even imagine living down there. I don't know how you do it."
"Well, it helps that I'm working for a good cause," She started, a bit afraid to look him in the eye. "I've got a group. We're helping people who can't help themselves, you know?" Just like you taught me.
"I'm glad you found something, Snips."
But it isn't the same, she thought. I miss you, I miss this- us. Whatever you want to call it, I miss it. I'm alone all the time now, and I don't want to go back to the Jedi, but how am I supposed to get a good hard look at home like I am now and just turn the other way again?
"I'm glad too," She settled for. "It's nice."
They fell quiet, looking back out to the sky as if the words they needed to say to each other were somehow written on the horizon.
It wasn't that Ahsoka didn't have a million things to tell him, it was just that after waiting so long to have the chance to say anything at all, she didn't know where to start; didn't know how to talk about anything without it all circling back to that day, to her decision.
Sometimes Ahsoka felt like she was still living it, still standing on those steps, still leaving. Other times she was stuck in her trial, looking up at the people who'd raised her for mercy, but getting none, or stuck screaming at Anakin in the sewer where he'd chased her, desperate for her to come back.
He'd looked at her that night like she'd ripped his heart out, and seeing him now, she wondered if it had ever truly healed.
"Are you okay?" Anakin finally asked. He was still hesitant, careful in the way he spoke like he was afraid her gaze would burn him if he was too vulnerable, but she could see in his eyes that he truly cared. "I mean, after the whole 'getting beat up' thing?"
Ahsoka smiled, huffing out a near laugh and nodding, "yeah, yeah. I'll live. I just–" she paused, chewing the inside of her cheek. "How are you? I know this can't be easy."
"It's not," he admitted quickly, looking down at his folded hands, eyebrows furrowing together. He was trying not to cry– trying not to let her see him cry.
She remembered the first time she did– after he'd failed at protecting a group of civilians and a young boy had lost his older sister in a blast– and it had only been a few tears then, but it had felt like a landslide.
"I'm sorry."
He snapped his head back up at her, "Don't be. Not even for a second. I'm happy that I found you and that you're alright. I'm happy to see you again, it's just–"
"It's different," she supplied.
He took a deep breath. "Yeah. It is." There was no real malice in his voice, just the plain, straightforward honesty that came from a person who was deeply hurt by someone, but loved them still. "Everything's different. It's not the same out there on the front without you,"
He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head and frowning. "I'm sorry. I know it's selfish to want you out there, you were miserable, it's just-"
Ahsoka put a hand on his arm. "Anakin," she said, looking him in the eye as kindly as she could, "We both know it was awful out there, but I– it wasn't all bad."
Her eyes were welling with tears once again, but she tried her best to smile at him. "I remember my first few weeks when I was fourteen. I remember being happy then. It sort of escaped me that I was on a warship, because hey, at least I was seeing the galaxy, making a name for myself."
She laughed, remembering the early wartime glory and excitement. "And, and even after that, when everything became so much bigger, we had each other, remember? Even after all the pain, I've missed our adventures, Anakin. Really."
His scarred, battle-worn face became alive with a smile, a real, true smile, and his shoulders– always tense from balancing the weight of a war– relaxed.
"I missed them too."
Ahsoka smiled. Maybe things were different, but Anakin and her came from the same, bittersweet place, and they could find their way back together.
The next morning, Ahsoka found herself hugging Padme goodbye, whispering one last, 'thank you' into her ear.
Ahsoka had called her friend from the relief group to come pick her up, and she was waiting in her speeder outside, unaware of how hard it'd be for Ahsoka to take those tortuous steps into the elevator and leave her family again.
"You're going to do great things," Padme said, drawing her back from the hug but still holding her hands tight. "Wherever you go, or whatever you set out to do, you'll make this galaxy a better place. I know it."
Ahsoka choked back tears, nodding. "I know you will too, Padme."
Then it was time to say goodbye to Anakin.
The hardest thing she'd ever have to do twice.
He stood there, looking at her with this mix of pride and sadness all wrapped up into one heartbreaking expression, and the next thing she knew she was throwing herself into his arms, holding on so incredibly tight, as if he would disappear if she dared let go.
"It was hard at first, but I was really happy to see you," she muttered against his sternum.
His arms shook as they held her, and his jaw trembled atop her montrals.
"Promise me you'll always be you," he whispered.
"I promise." she cried.
Then she let go, ripping the bandage off fast.
"Wait. Here," she sniffled, folding a slip of flimsi from her pocket into his gloved hand. "I want you to have this."
He looked down, confused, then back up at her.
"I never meant to become a stranger, Anakin, I promise."
She was never one for making promises, she'd lost that privilege in the war back when nothing could ever truly be certain. Yet it was different now, she had a chance to set things right.
She watched as he opened the slip; watched his eyes hover over the small scribbled numbers.
"Ahsoka, what- what is this?"
"My new frequency." She answered. "I figured you'd want to stay in touch."
And I don't know how I could ever lose you again.
The corners of Anakin's mouth turned up in a small, sincere smile, and he nodded. "Yes, I'd like that." He laughed, full of emotion. "I'd like that very much."
Thanks for reading, love you guys lots!