Ahsoka sat back in her chair with a sigh. Her eyes were stinging after staring at her datapad for so long, and yet she hadn't written more than two hundred words since she'd started.

This paper was due that night, and it was quickly dawning on her that she was unlikely to make the deadline.

She'd have to ask her teacher for an extension, which shouldn't be too difficult because they were all aware that she was currently acting as a full-time carer for her injured Master.

Feeling ravenous, a glance at the chrono confirmed she was due to check on Anakin and make his lunch.

Saving her essay and bookmarking the different texts she was reading, Ahsoka stood up and stretched out her sore back.

It was relatively easy to find something to eat in their small kitchenette. Obi-Wan had batch-cooked them enough meals to last whilst he was away on a mission, so she only had to pull a tray out of the refrigerator and put it into the microwave.

Filling a glass with squash and grabbing a straw, Ahsoka set towards Anakin's bedroom.

To her surprise, he was awake.

He'd been asleep all morning, not even waking for breakfast. The Healers assured her that he would be tired, but it was still odd to see her Master so still.

Anakin was propped upright in his bed with an abundance of pillows behind his back. He had a blanket covering his legs, but his chest remained bare, the scars of his most recent injury on display; red and angry-looking.

Tired eyes flitted towards her as she knocked on the door. Across the room from Anakin's bed, the HoloNet was on with pod racers zooming past the screen. It had been muted, subtitles running under the screen.

"Hey," she smiled as she walked in, burying her own fatigue to focus on him. "Good to see you awake."

He certainly looked more like himself now the bruises on his face had faded. Tyson must've given him a shave that morning as he was no longer supporting any stubble. Ahsoka knew that he preferred to be clean-shaven.

Anakin hummed, blinking slowly, "What's the time, Snips?"

His voice still sounded strange after over a week of being on a ventilator, but she wouldn't dare complain. She'd rather him alive with a hoarse voice than dead.

"It's just gone one in the afternoon," she replied, settling herself on the edge of his mattress. She glanced at the remote in his hand. "Why's the volume off?"

"Thought you were studying," he murmured.

"I wasn't having much luck anyway," she replied, "I'd rather been watching the pod racing."

He managed to turn the HoloNet off with the remote, though she knew even that slight movement strained him.

Two weeks ago, Anakin had been involved in almost a fatal accident. In the aftermath of a battle, an undetected landmine had exploded, causing a Republic walker to fall.

Anakin had pushed her and a squadron of clones away, but wasn't able to protect himself from being crushed between the fallen walker and the wall of a canyon.

Ahsoka could still remember how loudly she had screamed for medics when she realised what happened.

She'd lifted the walker off him by herself, and been shocked by the state he was in when the medics pulled him out.

He really shouldn't have survived.

The 501st medical team performed emergency surgery in the field to try to save his life. Rex had to hold her back, and stop her from fighting when Coric told her that she should prepare for the worst.

By some miracle, Anakin survived.

Not only that, but after countless surgeries and dips in bacta, Master Vokara Che had said that he was likely to make a full recovery if he allowed himself time to heal and rest.

With the risk of further injuring himself by not taking the Healer's instructions seriously, Anakin wasn't planning on getting out of bed anytime soon.

Ahsoka doubted he could resume his normal activities anyway, even if he wanted to. The Healers had him on a slew of strong painkillers, and even then he was still in agony 24/7.

Honestly, if Master Che had it her way, he would still be recovering in the Halls of Healing. But even she knew that Anakin would heal faster in the comfort of his quarters.

Unfortunately, this meant that the majority of his care fell to his teenage Padawan.

Healer Tyson was coming in every four hours to help Anakin reposition and relieve himself, and Master Che had insisted that Ahsoka call them if she had even the slightest concern, but it was ultimately down to her to ensure all of Anakin's needs were met.

Ahsoka didn't mind in the slightest.

Six months ago, it had been her needing round-the-clock care after the Blue Shadow Virus almost caused her organs to fail. Anakin had tended to her now, taking care of her in every way, so this was the only way to return the favour.

But that didn't mean she was immune to the exhaustion that came with being someone's primary carer.

"Here you are," she said, lifting the glass towards Anakin and positioning the straw between his chapped lips.

Any movement, even just lifting his arms higher than his chest, left him susceptible to further injury. That meant he needed assistance with eating and drinking, which Ahsoka was more than happy to provide.

Anakin drank more than half the glass before he pulled away, mumbling his gratitude, and then resting his head against the pillow, like just the act of drinking caused him to feel weak.

Letting him rest for a moment, Ahsoka brushed his hair aside and took his temperature with the ear thermometer that Tyson left for her to use.

After a moment, it beeped, and Ahsoka checked the reading whilst holding her breath.

She relaxed when she saw it was within range.

"Safe?" Anakin asked, his eyes still closed.

"Yeah," she exhaled, putting the thermometer away. "You're all good."

She took a minute to examine the scars down Anakin's chest. The largest one stretched from his collarbone to the centre of his chest, evidence from the initial surgery performed by the field medics.

Seeing so much of Anakin's insides had shaken her up.

There were other scars as well. One of his left side from when his lung was drained, and matching scars that reached from his shoulders, down across his pectorals. Kix had explained them all in detail, but she was in too much shock to process it.

The burns had almost completely faded now. They were nothing more than splotchy marks of discoloured skin, though she vividly remembered the huge blisters that formed when it first happened.

Distracting herself from the memory of the first time she saw Anakin on life support on the cruiser, Ahsoka checked his scars for any signs of infection. They weren't weeping or inflamed, nor did they feel hot when she gently touched them.

Master Che and the 501st medics had drilled into her that sepsis could kill him, so she took her examination seriously.

"Your scars are looking good," she said out loud, though Anakin hadn't reacted to her touching him. She knew he had some numbness anyway. "It's sure a better sight than how you looked when the medics pulled you out from the wreckage."

He hummed, "I don't remember any of it. Not sure if that's a good thing or not."

"It's probably for the best," she said, hating how much of it she could remember and still saw in her dreams at night.

On the cruiser, she hadn't left Anakin's side. The medics took pity on her and brought her snacks, offering to sit with her Master whilst she used the fresher and changed her clothes.

She even insisted on staying when Brightside cleaned up the graze on her forearm, the only injury she'd sustained when Anakin threw her across the rough ground before the walker fell.

"What do you remember?" She asked, needing to think about something other than the crippling guilt she'd felt since it happened.

Anakin had thankfully been unconscious for most of it. The medics had sedated him to perform surgery in the field, and the only time he opened his eyes between then and arriving on Coruscant was for the medics to ensure he didn't have a traumatic brain injury.

Anakin's face scrunched up, "I remember Coric telling me that I was lucky to be alive, and that you were being stubborn."

Ahsoka snorted, "He wanted me to walk around the cruiser with him to 'decompress'."

Anakin didn't see her make quotation marks around that word with her fingers, but his lips twitched in a smile anyway.

Since Teth, Coric had begun to take pastoral care very seriously. When he wasn't on shift, he claimed an empty room in the lower level of the cruiser to act as a 'safe space' for anyone who needed to vent, or even just use a shoulder.

He was practically a therapist.

Ahsoka had to admit that the nights when Coric sat by Anakin's bedside with her, sharing a cup of caf and just talking, were rejuvenating.

"I don't remember much of being in the Halls," Anakin carried on, "Things got clearer once I was brought here. Whose idea was it anyway?"

"Obi-Wan and I fought your case," she told him, "We know how much you hate it there, and you technically didn't need to be under medical supervision."

"I appreciate it," he said, "Master Che probably wouldn't let me watch the HoloNet at all."

"Well, it's not all fun and games," Ahsoka sighed, having noticed that his catheter bag was full to bursting point. "Hang on."

She found a clean portable urinal and drained the catheter, taking it to the fresher to flush it away. It wasn't one of the more glamorous parts of looking after Anakin, but Tyson had it worse with having to put Anakin on the commode to do his business.

After washing her hands and returning to scribble his fluid input, output, and temperature onto a flimsy pad that the Healers left out for her, Anakin muttered.

"Gross."

She couldn't help but smirk, "We've had worse. Remember when I caught norovirus?"

Anakin's lips twitched into a smile again, remembering how he couldn't do much for her that miserable week except make sure she had a bowl or bin within reach at all times.

"Tyson said you're getting stronger," she said, "When you're able to walk around, the cath will come out."

She was counting down the days. Not only would it be relieving to see Anakin acting more like himself, but she also wouldn't have to worry about any sudden changes in mood being down to a UTI.

His face scrunched up, "Taking it out is worse than having it put in."

"You were unconscious when they put it in," she told him frankly, "Comatose, even."

Anakin didn't respond to that.

For a moment, she thought he had fallen asleep on her. This was the first time he'd been awake today, and he still looked exhausted. It was weird, seeing him so drained and weak when he was usually so alert and restless whilst on medical leave.

"You feeling alright?" She asked eventually.

Master Che had told her to call if she had any concerns, but she didn't want to disturb the Healer or give her any reason to think Ahsoka wasn't able to take care of him on her own.

Anakin's eyes slowly opened and he looked at her, "Yeah, I'm just tired."

"I know," she heard the microwave ding in the kitchenette. "Think you can manage some lunch?"

"I'll try," he said, "What's on the menu today?"

"Obi-Wan's famous Mon Cala paella." She said, smiling as she left his room because she knew it was one of his favourites.

She returned minutes later with a tray balanced in her arms. Anakin's meal was steaming hot, so she left it to sit on his bedside table as she secured a disposable apron around his neck, using one hand to gently lift his head forward.

"You need a good hair wash," she muttered, "It'll get matted if it's left for any longer."

Anakin huffed, "Sure, tell Tyson that when he comes tomorrow morning to give me a bed bath."

As Ahsoka prepared his food, she tried to recall if Anakin's hair had been washed at all since his injury. The 501st medics must've done something to it if only to get the blood and grime out. He'd also been in bacta, and the Healers would've made sure it was all out of his hair.

"Smells good," Anakin said, eyeing the plate as she sat on his mattress again.

"Obi-Wan's a pretty good cook, huh," she said, putting some paella on a fork for her to taste. It wasn't so hot now, it wouldn't burn his mouth. "Ready?"

Meal times tended to be awkward with Anakin needing assistance. They didn't talk much- he was too embarrassed and she was focusing on the task at hand.

She had to keep in mind to offer him a drink after so many mouthfuls, and ensure he wasn't at risk of choking like he had during the first meal he ate in the Halls of Healing.

It wasn't quite so frightening now, she didn't feel like she needed Master Che's frequency pre-dialled into her commlink, but it was still a task that she didn't take lightly.

She was glad when Anakin chewed the last mouthful, and she could put his clear plate to one side. Her stomach was rumbling, she hoped there was another paella dish in the fridge because Anakin's meal looked so good.

Taking a napkin from the tray, Ahsoka wiped around Anakin's mouth and removed the apron, tossing it all into the small trash can by his bed.

"Thank you," Anakin said after he drained the rest of his drink, "It was nice, but I hate relying on you to eat."

"I don't mind," she told him instantly, "You look after me all the time."

"You're a child," he replied, "It's different."

She pressed her lips together, scribbling on the flimsy how much he had eaten and drank. It was all important information that assessed how well he was recovering.

"Master, you might not remember what happened to you, but I do." She said eventually, now avoiding his eyes. "I'd rather wait on your every need than have lost you."

Even when he was on the Resolute, the medics suggested he wasn't out of the thick of it. They didn't tell her specifically, but Ahsoka knew that the medical team considered the most humane option which would have meant turning off his life support.

She was glad it hadn't come to that, even though it was painful to see him like this.

Anakin was never still.

He was always in motion. She'd seen him training with broken bones that hadn't fully healed, she'd seen him fly his starfighter whilst battling illness. He'd pushed through Force-exhaustion to protect her and the rest of the men.

And yet, now, Anakin was unable to do anything but sleep.

"Ahsoka,"

She lifted her head, Anakin was looking at her.

"Hold my hand."

She couldn't hold the one closest to her. His metal prosthetic had been removed after getting damaged when the walker fell. Anakin, being so stubborn, didn't want anyone else to try fixing it so it was sat in a drawer until he was feeling better.

Honestly, the sight of his bare stump had taken her a bit of time to get used to.

She had to reach over his waist to lay her hands over his flesh one. Anakin managed to curl his fingers around hers and gently squeeze. It wasn't much, but to him, it took a lot of strength.

"I know I'm complaining about this, but I appreciate what you're doing for me," he told her firmly. "You're doing an immaculate job, but I don't want you to overdo it."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes, "Only you could have been on life support and be worrying about me, Master. I'm fine."

He smiled lightly, "Snips, I looked after my mother when she had Scarlet Fever. I know it's not easy."

"But it's worth it," she told him.

"Maybe in your eyes, but I know burnout when I see it."

Probably because he saw it every time he looked in the mirror.

"I spoke to Senator Amidala yesterday," he told her, as if she hadn't accidentally overheard parts of their conversation as she prepared dinner the night before. Padmé had been calling as often as she could.

"She's got tomorrow morning off. She said she'd be happy to take you into the city, and treat you to lunch."

Ahsoka blinked, "But who will look after you?"

"Obi-Wan's coming back tonight," he said, "He can check in on me."

She looked away, feeling frustrated. Anakin couldn't seem to understand that she didn't mind looking after him. Sure, it was exhausting and she wanted to leave their quarters without feeling immensely guilty that he was bed-bound, but that was insignificant.

"She'll bring you back in the afternoon," he assured her, "Depending on how I'm feeling, we can play a board game or something."

"Master, I don't think-"

"It's not optional," he cut her off, slightly stern. "Don't argue with the injured guy."

Ahsoka sighed, realising there would be no way to change his mind.

"Fine, if that's what you want," she told him, "But Obi-Wan will insist you rest and won't let you watch any HoloNet."

He smirked, "I wouldn't mind getting extra hours of sleep."

She scanned his face, "Have I kept you awake long enough?"

"Any longer, and I might start snoring mid-conversation," Anakin squeezed her fingers again before she pulled away. "Thanks for lunch, and for sitting with me."

"I'll check on you in another hour or two," Ahsoka checked her wrist chrono, "Tyson will be here later. Do you need more pain meds?"

He huffed, "Definitely."

"Okay," she tried to ignore how her heart panged, "I'll let him know. Anything else I can get for you?"

"No," he smiled, his eyes falling closed, "Go and get some food in you. I'll be alright."

"You're sure?"

"Yes," his head leaned further back on the pillow. "I'll shout if I need anything."

She resented, leaving the room and moving to the kitchenette to put the dishes away. She found herself another paella meal in the fridge, and made herself a cup of tea with a blend that Obi-Wan said was good for relaxation.

Waiting for the tea to brew, Ahsoka poked her head inside Anakin's room. As expected, he was fast asleep, lightly snoring with his mouth parted open. She flipped the lights off, leaving the door open so the light from the hallway would cast inside.

Collecting her tea and hot meal, Ahsoka settled down on the sofa with her datapad, intending to get some more work done.

It didn't take long for her tiredness to exceed her willpower. She drained the rest of her tea and ate the last mouthful before snuggling under a blanket to ward off the chill.

In minutes, she was dead to the universe.