Sitting cross-legged on the couch overlooking the fields, the passing of time seemed strangely warped to Ahsoka as she watched the droids in the field outside. She had no memory of how long she'd been sitting there, and it wasn't a knowledge she was particularly interested in obtaining. Thinking about the time she'd lost to this emptiness made her chest ache, a feeling she imagined was approximately how it would have felt if a battle droid had punched a hole through her heart.

At least that would have had a predictable outcome.

She let her shoulders sag and dropped her head into her hands, feeling a profound sense of failure and shame as she considered what she'd become. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rex out in the fields, crouching next to a droid he was repairing. Guilt joined the sensations that built up within her.

I should be out there helping him, not sitting in here feeling sorry for myself! There is no emotion, there is peace! There is PEACE!

She could feel herself gritting her teeth in frustration and took a deep breath, trying to ground herself with one of the meditation techniques she'd learned as a padawan. She closed her eyes, reaching out for something, anything. But nothing came. Ahsoka felt as though she'd been encased in ferrocrete. She'd been able to feel life around her since she was a youngling - it had sustained her and given her a sense of awareness, and even deep in space, feeling the presence of the soldiers and her masters around her had been comforting. Now it felt as though the galaxy had shrunk to a size barely large enough for her, and the cold, muffling silence pressed in from every angle. Isolation had left her alone with her memories, and as it turned out, most of those were far from comforting. She winced, realizing her body was tense and trembling despite her efforts to relax. This is not who she'd trained to be her entire life. Where was her serenity? Where was her focus?

A quiet hiss from across the house indicated one of the exterior doors had opened, prompting a burst of adrenaline that pushed Ahsoka to the edge of her seat momentarily. She felt stupid as soon as she saw Rex pulling his boots off just inside the door, but the reaction had been involuntary. He disappeared into the kitchen and emerged a few minutes later, a mug of something steaming in one hand, and a bowl in the other. His face was as good as a mirror - even without the Force, Ahsoka could see how she must have looked through nervous concern written into every line of his face as he hesitated in the doorway. She also realised with mild surprise that the light of the day was already beginning to fade.

"Hey Rex..." She tried to force some energy into her voice, but all she managed was a mutter. "Is it... is it night again already?"

The creases on Rex's forehead deepened, and he circled the little table in front of the couch and sat down next to her, putting the mug and the bowl down in front of her.

"Hey, 'Soka. Yeah, it is. Brought you some dinner. How... how're you feeling, sir?"

She smiled despite the pain it caused her, and Rex flushed, realizing his error.

"At ease, soldier. I'm just... just Ahsoka now."

"You've never been just Ahsoka," he stated simply, picking up the bowl and putting it in her hands. "Not now, and not ever. Now eat your dinner, I'm guessing it'll be all you've had to eat today."

Ahsoka eyed the contents of the bowl for a moment, a pale green substance that she knew well from her meals in the soldier's mess. It was a nutrient-enriched soup that was standard fare for clones, developed by the Kaminoan biologists as a perfect solution for a clone's dietary needs. Ahsoka had never particularly looked forward to eating the stuff - she just liked going to the soldier's mess to relax and talk to the clones.

"Where in space did you find this stuff on Dantooine? I thought it only existed in Republic canteens."

Rex shrugged, looking apologetic.

"I found a supplier in Khoonda, I guess it's popular with farmers for the nutritional boost. But if you don't like it, I can -"

Ahsoka summoned the strength to smile in what she hoped looked reassuring.

"It's okay, Rex. I was just surprised. I probably need it right now, anyway."

For Rex's sake if nothing else, Ahsoka drank the soup slowly. It had a fraction of the taste it usually had, but Rex was watching her carefully, so she finished it and set it down, trying to focus on the pleasant warming sensation instead of the way eating made her feel. She'd been avoiding it partially because she'd been submersed in cold silence, but also partially because of the tightness in the pit of her stomach. Thankfully, the soup had been engineered to take pre-battle nerves into consideration. Convenient. As soon as she'd finished and set the bowl back down, Ahsoka noticed the still steaming mug sitting on the table in front of her. She picked it up to take a sip, but immediately realized the brown liquid inside wasn't the caf she was expecting. Curious, she sniffed at it, and found the aroma sweet and inviting instead of the robust bitterness of caf.

"What's this?"

He smiled, looking pleased with himself.

"Something a little more... exotic. One of the traders had a little bit last time I was in Khoonda, and I thought maybe you needed it. Try it and tell me what you think."

Lifting the mug to her lips, the fragrant sweetness filled her senses as she took a sip. The texture was thick and silky, and the flavour intoxicating and earthy and rich. She finished the mug quickly as Rex laughed, pulling the empty vessel from her fingers.

"Hey, easy 'Soka, that stuff's worth its weight in credits! You're supposed to enjoy it, not down it."

The tension eased out of her muscles, and while she knew it was only temporary, she was willing to take what she could get.

"That was... wonderful. What's it called?"

"It's called hot chocolate," Rex smiled, setting the mug down and brushing her cheek with his fingers. "I thought it might be a little more relaxing than caf. The stuff has its uses, but not when it's already hard to sleep."

"Thanks, Rex," Ahsoka murmured, lifting her own hand to press his closer to her cheek. Physical sensations seemed so dull, she thought hazily. The feeling of Rex's rough hand on her cheek was an anchor keeping her from slipping back into the ferrocrete, and she grasped at it desperately. "I'm sorry I haven't been much help around here lately. I don't really know what's come over me."

She heard Rex exhale in a short huff, as though he'd been holding his breath.

"Don't worry about things around here, okay? There's not much to do lately, the droids are handling most of it. I'm just worried about you, Comman- Ahsoka. I know you're not sleeping well, and you've barely been eating..."

She could tell what was really on his mind, but he didn't bring it up, and she was grateful to him for that. She'd seen his face the night he'd found her in the ruins. She'd been terrified, flooded with pain and grief and the sensation of experiencing so much death... and then everything had suddenly died out. He'd been the first thing she'd sensed out of the darkness, and his presence had terrified her. She remembered the way she'd thrown up her hands to defend herself as he moved out of the shadows of the ruins, unable to detect him, to feel him like she used to do so effortlessly. In that moment he had been a ghost, and she'd been disoriented and alone. When she could finally make out his face in the moonlight, she could see the way his eyes had widened, and the confusion etched into deep lines across his forehead. She couldn't bear to think that he pitied her. The thought of being pathetic was repulsive and brought a hot flush of shame to her lekku, which should could feel deepen in colour. Rex slipped his hand free and used it to pull her towards him, wrapping her in a silent, tight hug. She could feel his lips graze her montrals, and the vibrations of his deep voice resonated through them and into the hazy corners of her mind.

"Stay with me, 'Soka..."

"I'm trying" she gasped, the words feeling heavy on her tongue. Whatever it looked like, she really was trying. That was the part that hurt the most. She never used to have to exert so much energy just to wake up in the morning, let alone leave the house. Next to Rex's silent strength, she suddenly felt like such a child. The thought sat strangely with her. She'd never known any other way but the life of a Jedi, but her species lived to almost a hundred Galactic Standard Years. She had only seen seventeen, and she'd aged more in the last three than most adults of any species did in a lifetime. It had never really bothered her before... why couldn't she let it go now? She glanced up at Rex, feeling quiet respect for his soldier's calm. Nothing ever fazed Rex - not blaster fire, and not the silence that followed. There is no emotion, there is peace. The teachings of her former masters dug their nails into her skin and clung there. She wondered dully how many of them were still alive to repeat that dogma. She wondered about Anakin, whose pain had seared though her more powerfully than any agony she had known before, and left in its wake an open, bleeding wound in the Force. She shuddered involuntarily, and felt Rex's arms tighten around her in response.

"Hey... just... remember that I'm here, okay? If there's any way I can help..."

"Thanks, Rex. I... I know."

She nestled her head back against his shoulder, detaching herself from the thoughts and pain and unanswered questions. Rex was there, and that knowledge flooded her with relief. He'd been at her side through some of her darkest moments and hardest battles, the telltale sound of his twin DC-17s blazing away reminding her that he was right behind her.

"Rex...?"

"Mm?"

"Are you sorry you left?"

She regretted the words as soon as they'd left her mouth. She felt his chest compress as he exhaled slowly, and glancing up at him, she could see his brow furrow. Too soon, Ahsoka thought to herself, feeling her lekku flush with embarrassment again. Insensitive, stupid!

"I'm sorry, you don't have to-"

"No, it's okay. I'm... I'm not sorry I left. I left for the same reason you did. Just... miss my brothers," he added gruffly, staring into the distance.

"But your brothers didn't think you were the enemy," she pushed, her eyes on his.

Rex's eyes hardened and his mouth set, creating an expression which was tense but overall entirely unreadable.

"Not me, no... got kinda hard figuring out who was... but it's a long story. I'll tell you some other time. I think we should try to get some sleep, I have to run maintenance on the crop dusters in the morning."

Ahsoka knew enough about Rex to know he was done with the subject for now, so she let it drop. His demeanour had been strange, but she was exhausted from even a short conversation, and her mind was rebelling against her ability to guide her own thoughts. She didn't have the energy to protest as Rex scooped her up and headed down the corridor. At least with him next to her, the nightmares faded faster. More than anything, all she hoped for was a dark, dreamless sleep.

The sun was bright and warm that day, but all Ahsoka managed to feel from being beneath it was the ever present fatigue she'd been battling. She was crouching just outside the ag unit, cleaning dust out of a battered R4 droid they'd salvaged from a junk heap near Khoonda's spaceport. Spacers didn't have room for dead weight, especially when any extra space they had could be requisitioned for cargo, and whoever had been transporting this one had obviously decided it was beyond repair. She's felt strangely emotional seeing it scrapped like that, remembering her former master's heroic little astromech, and Rex must have noticed the way her eyes had lingered on it, because he'd spent the better part of the next hour or so helping her dig it out and locating the obviously missing parts they'd need to get it operational again. She smiled faintly, chewing on her lower lip as she worked at a tough patch of grit jamming one of the droid's repair arms. It was nice to be doing something with her hands again, even if it was just another way of keeping her mind occupied. The droid swivelled its dome towards her with a metallic grating noise, issuing a low whistle in what sounded a lot like trepidation.

"Sorry, R4," Ahsoka mumbled, peering into the gap between its dome and main chassis. "I guess I didn't get all of that carbon out of there after all. Just hang on, okay? I'll have a look at it when I finish -"

A mechanical whirring of a straining motor cycled to life, and the repair arm budged about an inch before locking up again. R4 made a disgruntled beep, and Ahsoka sighed, rocking out of her crouch and into a slump against the bulky droid. She'd been poring over the manual for what felt like an eternity now, but somehow, it was never as easy in practice. Nothing ever was.

"I'm gonna go get some more oil, okay R4? Don't go anywhere."

The droid responded with an exasperated whine, and she dragged herself to her feet, giving it a comforting pat on the dome as she walked past it and towards the shed. R4's joints were pretty locked up, and she figured it hadn't seen any maintenance in ages. Truthfully, she had no idea if she was even doing it right. She'd never been much of a mechanic, but she had been a fast learner once, and it would be handy having another droid around. She could feel the heat of the day wearing her down, but she focused her attention on the task at hand, refusing to allow herself to consider her own exhaustion. Just fix the droid. There's plenty of time to sleep later.

Ahsoka pressed the release for the door to the ag unit, feeling the slight gust of the pneumatic mechanism as the door opened. The workbench was cluttered with tools and schematics that Rex had been using for his own repairs, and she did her best to leave them untouched as she rummaged for the oil canister. She wondered how this kind of work compared to what he was used to - subsistence farming was a far cry from the Grand Army of the Republic and the control and power he'd been entrusted with there. She wondered sometimes why he'd left all of that. Her master had always trusted and respected him, and he'd been given much more lenient treatment than many of his brothers serving under different generals. She'd never really managed to find out what his reasons were, but she could tell that whatever they were, they weren't something he was up for discussing. Shifting a pile of hand scrawled notes that looked like old supplies lists, Ahsoka managed to find the oil canister she was looking for, and was just about to put everything back when she caught sight of a maintenance checklist. The list seemed endless, all penned in Rex's neat hand, and she felt a flush of guilt as she realised just how much he'd been doing without even asking for her help. She'd been so focused on keeping her own mind busy that she'd lost track of just how much work needed to be done around here. Checking the list, she decided to shelve her droid tinkering for a bit and go see if Rex needed any help. She couldn't help but smile a little as she noticed the precision of Rex's daily schedule, with estimated timings provided in militaristic precision. Oh Rexy. Some things don't change. She noticed he'd pencilled in work on their communications antenna as his current task, which had been malfunctioning for a few weeks now. He'd been grumbling about something chewing on the leads that were exposed to the exterior because it was going to involve extra work to scale the thing to check for tears in the insulation. Pleased with herself for remembering something that wasn't her own inner conflict, she decided to go see if Rex needed a hand. She wanted him to know she appreciated what he was doing, and although he never asked for that kind of validation, she figured a little gesture was the least she could do.

Setting down the oil canister and grabbing the two cleanest mugs she could find, she filled them with caf and headed out towards the antenna, which was set up on a little hill just on the other end of the fields. She could just make out a ladder propped against the narrow metal frame of the antenna, and Rex's silhouette against the bright sunlight. She felt the exertion of the short walk far more than she cared to admit, but she ignored the sensation, trying to convince herself of a strength she didn't feel. Reaching the base of the antenna, she shielded her eyes against the sun and gave a little wave. Rex had a hydrospanner clenched between his teeth, but he freed a hand to wave back.

"I brought you some caf. Thought maybe you could... use a hand around here?"

Rex grabbed the hydrospanner and braced himself on the frame again. He was clearly surprised she'd come out, but she couldn't blame him for that. She'd spent an awful lot of time these days either trying to still her mind through meditation, or working on R4 alone. She regretted her absence all the more watching him work - it wasn't right leaving so much to him.

"Let me just finish this up and I'll be right down."

Ahsoka nodded and perched on a boulder, setting Rex's mug down and taking a sip of her own. It was a little too warm out for caf, but she liked the mild stimulant quality it had on her. Her thoughts were normally so hazy and muddled, it helped to have a little help sharpening her perception. She watched the droids in their little field harvesting without emotion, enjoying the repetitive motions they produced, but was snapped out of her ruminations by a clang of metal on metal and the sound of a choice stream of profanities. Ahsoka turned around and saw the source of the problem - the hydrospanner Rex had been grappling with had fallen from his grasp. She stood up, eager to be of some use.

"I've got it, stay up there!"

She fished the tool out from beneath the antenna where it had fallen and tucked it into her belt, climbing the scaffolding carefully to where Rex was waiting. A cool breeze tousled the hem of her nondescript tan farmer's tunic as she reached his location. The view was nice from up here. Dantooine looked peaceful. Looking up, she grinned at Rex, surprised to find that his expression was tense.

"Hey, I got it, don't worry!" She reached down and slipped the hydrospanner into her hand, extending it towards him. "Here you go!"

Rex took a deep breath.

"Uh, thanks, 'Soka."

He reached down towards her to grab the tool from her, but Ahsoka could see the way the knuckles of the hand that held the scaffolding were turning white. His eyes were distant and stormy, and as she placed the hydrospanner in his hand, she saw that it was shaking.

"Rex? Are you okay?"

He hesitated a moment, gripping the hydrospanner tightly and not seeming to really comprehend the question. Finally, he shook his head.

"Yeah, uh, I'm... I'm fine. Just been out in the sun too long."

Ahsoka felt concern flood through her. Rex never struggled with a lack of self control.

"Okay... well, you should probably take a break. Come down and have some caf, I can take it from here."

Worryingly, Rex offered no protest, and quietly made his way back down to the base of the antenna with Ahsoka. She handed him the caf and watched him carefully as he took it, noticing the way a tiny bit of the liquid spilled over as he drank. He was shaking. Ahsoka felt her chest tighten, but brushed off the sensation. He'd been out in the sun working for quite a while - maybe it was just the exertion getting to him. Pushing her anxieties down into the dark recesses of her mind where they were normally shelved, she resolved to be more active in helping out. The fatigue she felt from engagement tore at the corners of her consciousness, but she resisted it. Pain and anxieties or not, she could not stand by and let Rex wear himself down alone. Gently, she pulled the hydrospanner from Rex's now slack grip and guided him into a sitting position against the boulder she'd been perched on. The distracted glaze didn't leave his eyes, but he cradled the mug between his hands to steady it. Ahsoka frowned, watching him out of the corner of her eye as she scaled the antenna's scaffolding and got to work. She didn't like it, but for the time, there was nothing she could do. Fighting a crushing feeling in her ribcage, she wrapped her legs through the scaffolding and tried to focus on the repair job in front of her. She could feel the numb sensation tingling in her fingers, making her hands clumsy and slow as she worked. She was starting to feel like a Ruping with damaged wings. The Force had been so integral to the way she'd lived her life, and without it, she felt lost and blind and completely incapable. It took her longer than she cared to admit, but ultimately, she finished the job and climbed back down to where Rex was waiting. He'd finished his caf, and his eyes were no longer distant and troubled, but full of their usual serious concern.

"Thanks for the help, 'Soka. Guess I really did need the break."

It wasn't meant as an accusation, but it stung like one anyway. He was severely overworked, and she wasn't helping things.

"Rexy, I... I can't let you do all this stuff alone. I want to split up the work, make things a little more even around here."

"Ahsoka, I appreciate that, but I have things under control. I just think you should -"

"This isn't up for debate, captain," she interrupted, exaggerating his former rank in a teasing voice. She'd meant the comment to loosen him up, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Rex's jaw clenched, and Ahsoka frowned, unsure of why her usual teasing elicited that response.

"Come on, Rex, I was just kidding! But really, I want to help. I need to pull my own weight around here." His eyes softened again, the moment passing.

"What about that R4 unit you were working on?"

"R4's almost operational," she smiled, a phantom of her old confidence teasing the words from her body. It departed almost as quickly as it had come, but she tried to ride the feeling as long as possible."When he's done, I'll have him help you out. He's a little rusty, but he's still functional. Mostly." She wished she could say the same for herself. "I think something caught and burned in his dome motor, though. There's a lot of carbon jammed in there."

"Hmm, alright then," Rex conceded. "We can use all the help we can get, I guess. Let's go take a look at it, and then we can... talk about what needs to be done around here, if you're sure you're up for it?"

He threw her a look of thinly veiled concern, and she flinched involuntarily. She was sure of nothing, other than that she knew she had to try. She'd been struggling with even the most basic tasks, but staying busy was a distraction that she knew she desperately needed. She couldn't face the silence, and she couldn't bear to be dead weight. There was no choice.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Let's go."