Was he different? There was no denying that...Padme had to admit reluctantly. She had seen Anakin moments before Obi-Wan and Ahsoka's visit, and while he seemed different, he also seemed the same.
Loyal. Compassionate. Loving. He would never harm Ahsoka, ever. Glancing backwards, the woman wondered if there was more to Ahsoka's tears than betrayal. Obi-Wan had mentioned feeling physical pain in the Force, as though Anakin had harmed the child. Which, she figured, was impossible.
Padme concentrated on her Naboo starship, remembering Anakin's soft hands on her face, his calm reassurances...and his worried remarks to himself before they really spoke. Things about himself being too weak, and soon all of them would be together, ruling.
He wasn't gone...she would show them all. She was Padme, Anakin Skywalker's wife. She knew him best. So why did she feel a prickle of dread in the back of her mind?
Quiet. Ahsoka felt herself let out a small sigh, her breath making her arm tingle. Noticing the beads of sweat there, she made a small face. She hated this place, hated it more than anything right now. Glancing at the door Padmé had disappeared through, the Padawan knew there was nothing she could really do, but the girl couldn't help but feel wary. Swinging her legs over the cot, cursing at her own weaknesses, and the fact that she felt so…so devastated. And the fact that she just wanted to sleep forever – never wake up. That would feel so good…
Closing her dim blue eyes, Ahsoka's lower lip trembled slightly, Oh, Master Plo, what's going to happen to me? Over. That was her life – cut off by her Master, dreams hanging, if by a thread. Head bowed, the apprentice forced herself to take steps towards the door. Until she felt a cold hand on her shoulder, filled with inevitable dread and sorrow. Stifling a gasp, Ahsoka looked at the withdrawn man behind her and nearly stepped back. He looked suddenly years older, filled with agony. "Obi-Wan." The child breathed, looking at him closely. Why hadn't she seen this before? In some ways, it made her heart feel like it was cracking even more. Everything was so, so…different.
The man's gray-blue eyes glinted in the weak light, and Ahsoka's mouth hung agape; where was the Jedi, so controlled and indifferent? Changed, that's what had happened. Obi-Wan's scolding manner refused to be dimmed however, "You're not going out there."
At one time, Ahsoka would've argued, or at least wanted to. The little Togruta shook her head, lekku brushing her shoulders in that strange comforting way, and replied, "Something's happened…I have to help her." Her voice sounded oddly rough and on edge. Like maybe she wanted to deliver one last word to Anakin Skywalker.
Grim, mouth set in a firm line, Obi-Wan replied, "Let's see if she can help him." Holding one finger out to the exhausted girl, he stepped in front of the doorway. However curious Ahsoka felt, eye-markings knit together, she stayed where she was.
Until Obi-Wan moved away, insisting Anakin let her go, and Ahsoka felt herself go rigid. He was killing her…killing Padmé. Sinking to her knees, she crawled over to the door and peered out nervously. Padmé lay unconscious on the floor, her red lips parted, eyes closed. The Force around her was chaotic, filled with irritation. Ahsoka reached out with the Force and touched the small woman, Oh, Anakin. She loves you…all she wanted to do was help you. Her hand flew to her lightsaber, wanting to attack him herself.
As the two men leapt into a battle, blue blades clashing together in angry slashes and parries, Ahsoka turned and looked disgustedly at the golden droid behind her. She had a purpose, a mission, if there was one last thing she could do for Anakin. And maybe the little tide of anger in her heart might subside if she was distracted.
She was a Jedi. Darth Vader could push her down until she died, but he couldn't take away what she was. And her purpose was to save people. But he was making his former apprentice feel very un-Jedi like emotions.
She took in a shuddering breath, still feeling Padmé's heart beat – good, as long as it stayed beating – and offered a glare at 3PO. Why, she often wondered, had Padmé wanted that droid? Alright, yes, she knew that Anakin had made him, but why would somebody want that mistake-prone, worrywart, fussy thing of metal? "3PO, we have to go out there...we have to help her." Ahsoka said quickly, partially in panic, partially because she might change her mind about even talking to the droid, who, at the moment, looked rather fearful.
The droid almost seemed to shudder before responding something about an adequate amount of danger, but the Togruta sighed and rolled her eyes. Fine. She would go alone, but she knew she couldn't carry Padmé right now. The Padawan's back and lower torso were screaming in agony from the impact of being crushed against the wall. Disoriented, she wondered briefly if that was why she passed out earlier, and if that had been one of the reasons for the scarlet pain.
Either way, she had get the woman onboard quickly. Hands brushing against her hips to feel for her lightsabers, Ahsoka slipped through the doorway. Her lekku strained to hear sounds of Anakin and Obi-Wan, and her heart chanted, Please, Skyguy…you promised not to leave me. But maybe she had been wrong. Maybe he had never really cared about her.
There was no time for speculation, Ahsoka reminded herself, albeit sternly. Quietly walking across the rock – rock that had most probably been lava at one time – she reached Padmé. The woman had silent tears tracking down her cheeks, and carefully, Ahsoka brushed one strand of brown hair away, "Sh," She whispered, "We'll be alright."
Padmé's head turned away in denial, "No…Anakin." She insisted in a soft, almost silent, voice. Ahsoka hesitated, eyes passing over the woman. Back still on fire, heart bleak and without much hope, the girl wondered how she would get Padmé to the ship, but she heard a clanking sound and whipped around instinctively. Oh. 3PO.
Ahsoka bit her tongue and looked at the ground beside Padmé's legs, waiting for the scolding from the fussy droid that she believed she was about to receive. Something along the lines that Ahsoka had damaged her, or such…either way, the young female didn't really have the strength to argue, much less with the golden know-it-all.
But she didn't receive a lecture, rather, 3PO ranted about how she was damaged, and how would they ever get her on board…and on it went. But a whistle – not really cheerful as it usually was – brought them out of their reverie. A small smile graced Ahsoka's lips, "Artooie." She mumbled, calling the droid by the nickname she had given him in her early years as Anakin's apprentice. She petted the droid on the dome, and watched, perplexed, as he began to drag the woman with one of the cables he had.
Horrified, and she could see 3PO felt the same way, because he was ranting about how much harm that would deliver. Still, the astromech whistled a wry point, what do you suggest? So, 3PO agreed to help so that he might somehow prevent injuring her further. And Ahsoka did, too, because she hardly saw much of a choice. This woman had helped her even when she was filled with burning pain inside of herself, and besides, Ahsoka couldn't bear to see her suffer.
And it probably hadn't seemed exactly fair to her, having to aid Skywalker's injured, crushed little Padawan, too weak to care for herself…oh, Ahsoka would've hated that, but she was beyond caring.
Upon lying Padmé on the cot she had used, the woman appeared to wake up. Immediately, Ahsoka knelt beside her, not speaking. No words were left inside of her. But as long as Padmé lived, Ahsoka told herself, she would be all right. Quietly, the girl sunk into a chair at the end of the cot, watching Padmé's chest rise and fall, until, finally, she fell into a fitful sleep, red-hot shadows taunting her, reminding her. It was her own anger, her own fury screaming.
Moments, hours, however much time had passed didn't register in the girl's mind. One moment asleep, the next up, covering her mouth with a shaking hand so she might not scream, and glanced thankfully at Padmé; Ahsoka was so glad that she couldn't feel with the Force the way the Jedi could.
Ahsoka believed she had broken some ribs; they pounded painfully in unison with her thumping heart, but she still limped to the cockpit and curled up in one of the chairs. Her blue eyes closed as she struggled to block the visions from invading her mind.
Burning, burning…he lay on the hot rock, it around him melting. Struggling to push himself up the steep embankment with only one hand, that one hand made of metal. For a instant, time froze on that. Ahsoka had never seen the metal hand before – she knew how much Anakin had hated its existence. How he wished he hadn't been so foolish.
Viewing the rest of him, the girl wished she hadn't. There were no real limbs left, just two stumps for legs and one arm, that being the metal one. Horror halted her as his unruly brown locks caught fire, along with the clothing on his back. Flame, along with the heat, melted it to his skin, and the Force erupted with the intense heat and pain. His flesh melted as it turned to fire.
A presence, one that she knew very well, made her turn. "Obi-Wan!" The Togruta cried out in relief, trying to walk towards her burning Master. Despite the heat, she was shaking, and despite the fact that her muscles desperately wanted to move, they would not yield. "Obi-Wan!" She shouted, watching his lips move, but she could hear no sound.
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he spoke to her Master, but still, all Ahsoka heard was the sizzle of burning flesh. Shaking in horror, the girl was forced to see him most probably die. Her stomach flip-flopped as the Force filled with hatred. Eyes cast downward, she tried to look away, but everywhere she turned, he was there. Her hands wanted to cover her eyes, but they wouldn't move. And she could not close her eyes.
Ahsoka writhed, trying to move away, but she failed. Anakin's eyes were on the rock below him, and when he looked up, she could see their lethal color once more, but somehow, it seemed worse. "I hate you!" He screamed out, loathing so easy to hear – and Ahsoka could hear it. And he screamed it again for good measure.
Immediately, Ahsoka hesitated. He hates me? Well, I knew it anyway, she tried to soothe her burning heart. And her flesh – it sizzled in the heat, but when she saw orange flames flicking off of her own skin. Horror made her mouth drop open, and she struggled to run.
Obi-Wan shouted, "You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!" Ahsoka watched him pick up Anakin's lightsaber, one she had seen his so often wielding in battles, and turn it over in his hands. It looked so much like his Master's, because, after all, it had been based after Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan's eye caught a shuttle – the Emperor's – and then walked away, leaving Ahsoka to watch Anakin writhe and burn.
It made her sick, watching his face become wrinkled and red, hair burnt away. His clothes were black and clung to his skin, but his mechanical hand dug into the hot ash and rock as he struggled to pull himself up.
Another presence – one so cold, yet somehow so hot, came forth. Disappointment, yet relief scrawled across his disturbing facial features, and for a moment, Ahsoka didn't realize that it was him. Emperor Palpatine.
"Ahsoka." His grim voice whispered, and she shuddered, telling him repeatedly to leave her alone, but he wouldn't, "Wake up…"
Starting awake, Ahsoka jumped and looked around the shuttle for Emperor Palpatine, waiting for him to kill her. But no one was there, other than Obi-Wan. And then she sunk back against the cushioned seat, "He's still alive." She muttered.
Obi-Wan hardly looked like he waslistening, or cared, and seemed distraught. Ahsoka didn't pursue the matter, and merely asked, "Where are we going? How's Padmé?" She held her tongue so she might not ask, What's going to happen to me? But she couldn't help but question herself.
Obi-Wan drew in a long breath, still looking so old and sick and like he didn't really want to think about anything, either. "You two are going to the Medical Bay. Ahsoka, he hurt you." He hurt you. It was true.
Ahsoka didn't argue. Rather, she held back tears and fear, reminding herself she was a Jedi. But no matter how much of a Jedi she was, she couldn't suppress her anger towards him. She had trusted him, cared about him - she had saved his life countless times. And his thank you was his betrayal. But...she knew he couldn't kill her. She knew that in their earlier battle, he didn't want to. So. He had still been good.
Her sapphire eyes closed and she leaned back, tilting her chin upwards. Was he still good now?
Ahsoka was more than sick of sitting in a Med Bay, having a droid prod at her broken body. What did it matter anymore? Padmé was in pain, far away from her, and she had to sit still. She didn't care anymore about being intact – not now, not when Padmé's seemed to be dwindling far away. She just wanted to be with her. So when the droid confirmed the obvious – several ribs were broken – Ahsoka wasn't listening.
She merely nodded, and stood, feeling the sharp pain in her chest. She hated Anakin for doing that to her, the way he had been friends and then he had turned against her, used his trust to break her. Just as he had Padmé.
Ahsoka slipped a brown cloak around her shoulders, pulling them tightly to her bare arms, and walked down the hall. Her footsteps echoed hollow and alone down the corridor, and when she got to the room where she felt Padmé, what she saw surprised her. Obi-Wan wasn't there, not yet, until he walked up behind her. "Can I talk to her?" Ahsoka heard her voice tremble, but she no longer truly cared.
Obi-Wan looked regretful, but he still shook his head, cupping a large hand on her thin shoulder. It was only then Ahsoka noticed how thin she had gotten in the past few months, only then she noticed that her clothes were a bit looser than normal. "Sorry…Ahsoka, your too young. You were too young to see any of this."
For once, the girl didn't argue with that statement, because she agreed. Forever she would be kept scarred from this event, maybe never truly recovering. The thought chilled her, but she didn't bother to dwell. Because Obi-Wan had gone into the room, and Yoda appeared.
Yoda was still alive? But he didn't seem too surprised to see the Padawan there, yet he said nothing. His wrinkled ears looked tilted downwards, and Ahsoka knew that inside, his losses were eating him up, too. But she didn't bother to offer any words, because when she did, a spark of anger ignited in her chest. He hadn't changed the Order to defeat the Jedi. He was so arrogant.
Ahsoka sunk to the floor, back against the wall. She buried her face into her knees and took several gulping breaths, one catching deep in her throat. The Force exploded, a beacon of light filling the air. Ahsoka glanced into the room and saw a small baby in Obi-Wan's arms, insisting to the dazed, incoherent woman that she must fight. Soon, the Med droid held another child, and Ahsoka watched as Obi-Wan continued to insist. But the woman dropped back on the pillow, the Force falling deeper into the black spell.
It took a moment for Ahsoka to realize that she was gone, and when she did, Ahsoka felt her stomach turn to ice. "No!" The involuntary cry escaped her lips. There was no one left. Other than Obi-Wan and Yoda, but no one who really cared…No.
Ahsoka gulped, and before she realized what she was doing, fled. Tears streamed down her cheeks and eventually she crashed to the floor, sobbing blinding in rasping hiccupping cries. It felt more like vomiting than crying, ragged sounds the escaped her mouth. One shaking hand covered her mouth, in fear that she might actually vomit. Sniffling, the Padawan curled herself up into a ball, trying to hide herself.
The Force showed no light at all, nothing more left for her. She could just stay here…forever…and…ever. Tears still streamed down her cheeks, and there was no comfort anywhere she looked. There was nothing. Except her completely broken soul.
Her life, over, at least as Ahsoka.
But, while moments before she wanted to not go on, her sorrow was replaced by anger. She sat up, arms wrapped around her legs and placed her chin on her knees. She stared with fiery emotion at the wall, trying to calm herself. What would happen to her?
Eventually, Obi-Wan crouched beside her, holding the two infants. The girl appeared to be in a daze, but the Jedi Master knew better. Ahsoka felt his finger tilt her chin up, and she glanced at him and the two bundles. "Padmé's." She said, softly, though it was so obvious.
Quietly, and ever so softly, she touched one of their cheeks, and two brown eyes opened and peered up at her. "Her name's Leia." Obi-Wan whispered an explanation, "She's going to Alderaan with Bail Organa. Maybe you can check up on her sometimes?" Ahsoka's eyes, mesmerized, remained on the little child, and she felt a spark of hope.
Ahsoka nodded mutely, still transfixed by the tiny life form. "What's to happen to the other?" She glanced at the other child, stroking it's hair gently. The soft, thin hair on her rough, calloused fingers felt like hope itself.
"Luke will go to Tatooine and live with his aunt and uncle. I'll stay there to watch him. Ahsoka, the question is, where will you go?" Obi-Wan asked softly, hand on her shoulder again.
With a jolt, Ahsoka remembered Cala, the Togrutan girl with purple eyes. A promise was made – she would live, but only for her. She would take her somewhere, and somehow, raise her in a way that would be best. That way, of course, was growing up as any Togruta would. "I'll go to Shilli. For a while, at least." Oh, but I am not going to be a commoner.
AN: I reread my last chapter, decided that Ahsoka should've been angry last chapter...and now I'm hoping this turns out alright, because at this point I'm going absolutely crazy. So if I don't finish the next chapter by next Tuesday, it's cause I'm still going crazy.
But, the next chapter is also the last, for this this story at least, because of the sequel. (And I'm happy about that...)