Ahsoka's POV

"_no, Master. I'm fine, just a little shaken." I mumble through the door way. Anakin doesn't look fooled. I can't lie.

He settles it right there. "Alright, Snips. I'm going to go find Obi-Wan and Shmi, while you?"

"Sleep, Anakin. That's it, just for a while." I say quickly. He nods, still a little disbelieving in me. I'm sure he hears the door slam as he walks down the hall.

I crash my face into my blankets, letting all of those tears I've held back for so long. My legs shiver and shake as I slam my fist repeatedly against my pillows.

Sure, none of the imported medicine was destroyed, just small vials and medical drams. The main reason I'm so upset was that we received a distress transmission from Chancellor Palpatine: he seems concerned that if he goes through with buying and delivering the foreign supplies, they will just be destroyed in the future by the Separatists again. He called it "futile spending.

The council had no choice but to go along with the Chancellor's decision. For now, the Anakin's surgery is postponed to a later date. But I don't think Shmi can wait that long. Sure she's fine for now, but just think another four months from now:

She could be back in that clear incubator, barely breathing and clinging to the last strand of life left in her. I sniff aggressively and roll over in my bed.

There is no way I'm going to fall asleep for a while, but is still hope I will.

The next morning, I join Master Dell in a sparring training session, in the lower catacombs of the temple. The room is surrounded with sparring staffs, holographic droids for combat. I lazily take a long brown staff from the rack, taking a short 'shoto' like hilt in my hand as well. I still think about Shmi as we ready ourselves at opposite ends of the room.

Master Dell- using a double ended staff- charges at me, where as I am supposed to myself. I clock my shoto staff of one end of his bow, and swing my long staff to the other end. We continue this for another hour, switching roles in training every ten minutes.

Later in the afternoon- when I am less depressed about the surgery- I go and have lunch in the cafeteria; alone, of course as I don't feel in a talkative mood. I mush through my meal with my fork, deciding that I'm not very hungry at all.

I avoid talking with the passing jedi in the long corridors as I strut to my dorm. Words seem completely useless at the moment.

My cover my body in warm blankets when I settle in to my bed. It is late mid-fall here on Coruscant. The ground is glazed with frost and snowflakes. It would be a few months from now when Shmi turns one.

Wow, one year. January fourteenth, I was lying in the temple's infirmary, waiting for Shmi to arrive. Then, the young girl I carried for nine months came to the jedi, around dinner time that day.

Then, a wave of realization hits me: Shmi may not live to see her first birthday. Another rush of tears pours down my face, before I can realize my fist-punctured pillow is drenched.

A knock on the door disturbs my tantrum. I wipe the glazed streams of tears from my cheeks and eyes with my sleeve and creak open the door.

Anakin stands solemnly with a box of yellow truffles from the market across town. He smiles lightly as he walks in my room. I slump down onto my bed, leaving the delicious truffles aside- for now. Anakin squats next to me. I know a conversation is yet to come.

"Tell me the truth: what's wrong?" Anakin bluntly asks. I turn to lock eyes with him, wondering where to start.

I bite my tongue as I start to explain.

"I remember the very day I found out I was going to have Shmi. I nearly flew head over heels. I would finally have someone I could call 'mine'. Now since she's been sick and in the infirmary for a while, I feel she is slowly drifting away from me, day by day," I continue. "I want to have those talks about the past, the war and the jedi with her when she is old enough to understand."

Anakin rubs my back as I start to cry again.

I speak through my tears, "When you agreed to donate for her, I got that feeling again: head over heels. But once again, the dream I seem to live has turns dark and gloomy. I can't deny that she may not live for Life Day, it's very possible."

"Ahsoka, you know the order is there for you. It's there for all of us when we need help, whether we want it or not." Anakin explains, handing me tissues from the truffle box, "Trust me, we will get those supplies for the surgery, whether that be today or tomorrow. I'll make sure it happens. I still will give anything and everything for Shmi. You know that right?"

I nod gravely. Anakin seems like he might cry as well, something I hate. It's odd to see such a strong role model breakdown.

"Okay, we'll leave it there, Snips. Shmi is fine. I saw her today and the doctors said she was still in a stable condition." Anakin says.

This ripples over my tears, making them dry up like they were hit by the sun instantly. Shmi was healthy for now, and as soon as those supplies arrive, she will be back to normal.

Anakin cracks open the chocolate truffles, handing me one on a dry tissue. I chew on the gooey fudge and wipe away the remaining tears and lean back in my bed.

Anakin is about to leave for bed when I stop him at the door.

"Wait! Anakin, the council doesn't have control over the delivery of the medical supplies. How can you get it here faster than they can?"

My Master smirks, patting me on my shoulder.

"I told you: I'll make sure it happens."