Day 1
Anakin stood at the top of the steps long after Ahsoka disappeared from view.
In another universe, he might've run behind her and physically held her back from leaving, refusing to let go until she relented and returned to the Temple at his side. He would've insisted that she reconsidered, and not taken 'no' for an answer.
But in this universe, he didn't.
Because deep down, he hoped that she would reach that decision on her own. He thought she would be back, filled with regret and begging to return. He would accept her with open arms, as soon as she realised how big of a mistake she was making by walking away.
After all, this was the only home she'd ever known.
The Order was her life, the Jedi was her family.
He was her brother.
There was no way that she would be able to walk away like that.
He'd wait. In a matter of time, she would be back.
The sun was lowering now, and he could feel the chill in the air. He wondered if Ahsoka had found shelter yet, or if she was still roaming the streets in the same clothes.
When night came, she would walk back up the steps.
She'd be cold, and her ego would be slightly bruised as she asked for him to take her back.
He would do so without hesitation.
Anakin sat on the top step, resting his arms on his knees. For some reason, his legs felt like jelly.
He waited until dusk. The winds picked up as darkness settled across Coruscant's skyline.
He would continue to wait until he saw the tips of her montrals, and he would open his arms to welcome her home.
For now, he resigned to wait.
Day 2
Anakin left for his quarters when the sun began to rise.
He felt crippled from exhaustion and a deep ache in his chest that refused to budge.
He had waited for hours, his back stiff and eyes stinging from the wind.
Ahsoka hadn't returned.
He dreaded what might have happened to her in just one night. She might've been kidnapped, or trafficked, or murdered. He imagined her broken body laying in a gutter, and had to shake away the image.
Ahsoka was stronger than he was giving her credit for. She was street-wise and observant, it would take a bounty hunter with years of experience to catch her off guard.
Knowing her, she had probably found shelter and food. If she didn't have enough credits, she knew that Dex would feed her for free; she wouldn't even have to ask.
Maybe she hadn't even spent the night in the city. She might've taken a transport off-world, and watched in regret as the Temple got smaller and smaller as she took off into the atmosphere.
Anakin resisted the urge to track her down.
Soon enough, she would make contact. She would let him know if she needed credits or somewhere to stay. She'd assure him that she was okay, or beg for him to come and get her.
Anakin's tired feet brought him to their quarters- his quarters, now.
Ahsoka's bed was made, just as it was the morning before she was arrested. Her leftovers of a Dathomirian takeaway were still in the fridge. The glass that she drank blue milk out of- every morning, without fail- was still on the draining board.
It was as if she hadn't left at all, and yet, their apartment had never felt emptier.
Anakin slumped onto the sofa, staring at the blank holoscreen. He had imagined the day before ending very differently once Barriss admitted to setting Ahsoka up.
He thought that after the meeting to invite Ahsoka back to the Order, they would spend the night awake and talking.
Ahsoka would admit how frightening it had been to be accused of crimes she had no capability of committing. They would call Rex and tell him the good news.
They would wake up early the next day and cook breakfast, singing along to trashy pop music on the radio.
And here he was.
Alone, his Padawan no longer under his care. No more witty banter, no more nicknames, no more competitions about who could take down the most droids. No more patching each other up after hard missions, no more crying on the other person's shoulder.
It had all been taken away from them.
And who was to blame?
Barriss had set her up.
The Council had failed to support one of their own.
He hadn't been able to convince her to stay.
They were all responsible, but Anakin felt like the brunt of the weight was on his shoulders.
Despite the fatigue forcing his eyelids to close, his head snapped up as he heard a faint knock on the door.
He stood up so quickly that he went dizzy, rushing to open it.
It had to be Ahsoka.
He should've never doubted that she could leave him like that. She was coming to apologise and ask for forgiveness. She would undoubtedly be in tears, days of relentless exhaustion and anger bubbling to the surface.
Anakin palmed the keypad, adrenaline fuelling his veins. For the first time in hours, he felt himself smiling as the door slid open-
To reveal someone who was not his Padawan.
His face fell at the same time that Obi-Wan's did. He must've sensed his excitement and realised why.
"Hello," Obi-Wan said, hesitantly. "May I come in, Anakin?"
Anakin blinked at him. This wasn't the Obi-Wan that he knew. This older Jedi's shoulders were slumped in defeat, like it was he who had been trialled for terrorism and murder.
"Why are you here?" Anakin asked, and it came out nastier than he intended.
Obi-Wan shrunk further inwards on himself, "I came because… well, I thought you could use a friend."
A friend.
Anakin's friend was gone. She was Force-knows-where.
She had been made to feel unwelcome in the only family she'd ever known. They pushed her so far away that she didn't even want to come back.
"I'd like to make us some tea," Obi-Wan said, his face paling every moment that Anakin was silent. "Would you like that?"
"I don't…" Anakin's mind short-circuited, he could only think of one thing. "Obi-Wan, she's gone."
Obi-Wan nodded, "I- I know, and I'm so-"
"She's gone and you're thinking about tea?" Anakin emphasised, feeling his anger taking control. "Tea, seriously? Is tea going to bring her back?"
"I'm sorry, Anakin," Obi-Wan's eyes were shimmering the same way they used to in the immediate aftermath of Master Qui-Gon's death. "I know it's awful for you right now, but I thought some company might help."
"You don't understand," Anakin growled, his entire body vibrating. "I never left your side like she left mine."
His former-Master's mouth opened and closed like a fish. Ahsoka might've laughed at how silly he looked.
"And I don't want your company," Anakin growled, the door sliding shut without him needing to press the keypad.
Obi-Wan didn't try to knock again.
Day 3
Anakin didn't allow himself to process what really happened until he was safely in Padmé's embrace.
The Temple felt strange.
He'd lived there since he was nine, and yet it suddenly felt like a foreign place without Ahsoka there.
Anakin could feel the pitiful looks he received from the other Jedi as he walked through the corridors. Obi-Wan had been engrossed in conversation with Mace Windu when he passed them, and he stopped talking to watch his former student leave the building.
"She left me," he whispered, body trembling and cheeks wet with tears. "She left me to fight this war without her."
"Oh, Ani," Padmé used the sleeve of her shirt to dry his face. "You know that she wouldn't have done what she did without a reason."
"We invited her back," he murmured, his voice partially muffled as he was pressed to her chest.
She had taken one look at him when he arrived at her apartment, and even without an explanation, she knew what had occurred.
It didn't seem to surprise her as much as it should have.
Instead, Padmé immediately ushered him into her bedroom. She cancelled her meetings and made him a cup of tea that had gone cold and untouched. His wife cradled him as he told her what happened after the trial.
"Did we not do enough to help her?" He asked, unable to be soothed even as Padmé gently ran her fingers through his hair, "Were we not enough?"
Her smile was small, and oozing with sympathy.
"We did everything we could." She told him, "You did everything you could. But, Ahsoka's a young woman; she's not a child anymore. She made that decision alone, and frankly, I don't blame her for the choice she made."
He didn't know what to say. The ache in his chest was making it difficult to find the words that could express how he felt.
Padmé only squeezed him tighter, "You have nothing to feel guilty for, love. You took that child and turned her into an incredibly capable fighter."
He scoffed, "If she was a fighter, then she would've stayed."
It was difficult to not feel angry at Ahsoka for leaving. He felt like he had been abandoned. All those times they promised to stay beside each other through the war had been forgotten as she refused to accept her Padawan beads from him.
As far as Anakin saw it, he gave her the choice to stay or go. She chose wrong.
Padmé didn't agree.
"Anakin, you know how hard that would've been for her." She said, firmly, "She wouldn't have taken this decision lightly. She was torn between wanting to do what was best for her, and wanting to please you."
He hated that she was probably right.
Day 4
Anakin was somewhat startled to find Master Plo Koon sitting on Ahsoka's vacant bed after returning from Padmé's the next morning.
To his embarrassment, Anakin had burst through the ajar door, believing that it was Ahsoka inside.
"Are you moving in, Master Plo?" He asked once he got over his surprise, watching the Kel Dor seated on his former Padawan's bed. "I'm not a very good housemate."
"Young Ahsoka very much enjoyed your company, Master Skywalker," the older Jedi said, not moving from where he was sitting.
Anakin noticed he had one of Ahsoka's abandoned plants in his hands- her Shillian string of pearls which had been a gift from her old friend. It was the first plant of her rather large collection.
"I'm not a Master anymore," Anakin told him bluntly, impossible to hide the hurt in his voice.
"You must wonder why I didn't take Ahsoka on as my own student," Master Koon said, "Besides my obvious attachment to her, I didn't have it in my heart to take on another student after what happened to dear Alicia. It didn't mean I had to lose my title as her teacher."
Anakin ground his teeth. He didn't know much about Plo's late Padawan. She died before the war began, some jungle fever that she caught whilst on a peace mission. According to Obi-Wan, Plo was never the same after her death.
Koon stood up, still holding the Shillian pearls in his clawed hands. He ran a single string of pearls through his fingers, and Anakin was reminded of the Padawan braid tied to his belt.
"Master Yoda was right to put you two together," Koon said, "I objected at first, I believed she required someone more level-headed."
Stepping right up to Anakin, the Kel Dor laid a hand on his shoulder, "Now, I acknowledge that I underestimated you. Nobody could've provided her with a better education, or been a better friend."
He didn't want to admit how much that praise meant to him.
"I will leave you," Koon said, removing his hand, "I understand that this must be extremely difficult for you to process, young Skywalker."
"You should keep hold of that," Anakin gestured to the plant, changing the subject. "And the others. I won't be able to keep them alive."
He didn't know what the procedure was for Padawans leaving the Order. They would probably move him to a one-bedroom apartment, or maybe Oi-Wan would insist that he move in with him.
Thankfully, Koon didn't protest and bowed his head respectfully. "I'll take good care of them, as Ahsoka has. My only exception is that you keep the Devil's Ivy. It's low maintenance, I promise."
"I'll look after it," Anakin nodded, trying to not remember the day he gifted the pothos with heart-shaped leaves to Ahsoka. She had teared up from the gesture. "Thank you, Master Plo."
"Of course," Koon cleared his throat, "For what it's worth, I can only apologise for not doing enough to protect her."
"Thank you," Anakin repeated, though this time he didn't mean it.
Deep down, in the part of himself that was still a child in slavery, Anakin hoped Plo held onto that guilt for a long time.
Day 5
Every time Anakin stepped foot inside the Temple's mess hall, he could feel the stares.
Anywhere he sat to eat, he could hear the murmurs. Everyone in the Temple knew what had happened, and the shock had somewhat worn off enough for them to begin discussing it between themselves.
Anakin had called the clones, specifically Captain Rex, to inform him of his promotion. The clone was obviously wrecked by Ahsoka's sudden departure, particularly by the fact that she hadn't even said goodbye.
He thought he raised her better than that, though he knew that the entire ordeal had probably been too traumatising for her to explain to anyone else.
Nevertheless, these men had been watching Ahsoka's back since Christophsis. He couldn't blame Rex for being upset.
As he walked into the mess hall, his mind still on the conversation with Rex from that morning, Anakin was surprised to find he was no longer the centre of attention.
Along the wall, sitting on a lone table with just a cup of tea, was Master Unduli.
If Anakin thought the Jedi were judging him behind his back, then Luminara was surely being isolated from everyone she had ever known.
Everything about the Mirialan Jedi screamed defeat. Her posture was slumped, her usual headpiece missing to reveal just her covered head. Her eyes were dull as she stared at the tabletop, her expression entirely lifeless.
Anakin had every right to be angry with her. After all, her Padawan was the reason Ahsoka was almost sentenced to death.
And yet, he couldn't place any blame on Luminara.
If anything, she was just another victim.
At no point had Anakin been blindsided by his Padawan. She was loyal from her first day as his Padawan to the last. She questioned the Order, sure, but she never showed a lack of faith in them.
Not until after they cast her aside, of course.
Unduli had been caught off guard by Barriss' admission.
She thought she was raising the perfect Padawan, and that student had turned out to be a terrorist.
Had Ahsoka genuinely been the culprit to those crimes, Anakin would probably have quit the Order himself out of shame.
That was the driving factor in filling two trays with food and proudly walking to her table, likely catching her by surprise as he sat opposite her.
Around the room, every person's eyes were on them.
"Knight Skywalker," she said, her voice quiet. Gone was the decisive General who took a no-nonsense approach to everything in her life.
"It's just Anakin," he said, sliding her tray towards her, "I think we can drop the formalities."
"Luminara, then," she said, straightening slightly. Her eyes scanned the room. "You're very brave sitting here."
He shrugged, "Nothing phases me after almost watching my Padawan be sentenced to death."
It came out harsher than he intended, and Anakin winced.
"It's okay," she raised her hand politely before he could apologise, "I would feel the same way if I were you."
At this stage, their audience had grown bored of their conversation. Perhaps they were hoping for an argument, maybe even a screaming match- but Luminara wasn't that type of person.
"How are you coping?" Anakin asked, starting the conversation on a better note.
The woman sighed, prodding her food with a fork. She probably didn't feel hungry, much like him.
"Horribly." She admitted, "I always prepared myself for her to die, not for her to plead guilty to terrorism against her own people."
He remembered Geonosis. Luminara was ready to admit that Barriss was dead, whereas Anakin never lost hope.
"At least I know where my Padawan is, whilst you do not." Luminara added, looking at him, "How are you?"
"I feel angry." He said, aiming for transparency. There was no point pretending. "I know that's not the Jedi way, but-"
"It's okay." She assured him, "I feel angry too. I'm sorry that my Padawan's actions caused yours to walk away."
"I don't think it was solely Barriss that triggered that," Anakin replied, hoping it provided some comfort. "In a way, we both lost our students."
The woman sighed, apparently not interested in her food, "I wish I knew why she did what she did."
Anakin shrugged, "Why don't you ask her?"
The woman's head snapped up, "Imagine what people would say."
Ah, there was the old Master Unduli.
"They might judge you." He said, honestly, "But if I had a chance to speak to Ahsoka again, I would take it. Screw what everyone else thinks."
For the first time, something like hope flickered across Luminara's face, "I'll give it some thought."
Day 6
"Let's go out," Obi-Wan said, sounding very firm. "Come on, we could both use some fresh air."
Anakin resisted the urge to groan.
He'd hardly left his quarters that morning, as Padmé had a stacked schedule and the thought of training alone in the gym made him feel nauseous.
Obi-Wan had popped in with fresh pastries for breakfast. Anakin, too tired to turn him away, had allowed him inside.
Honestly, the company felt slightly nice, even if they did sit in near silence for the first hour of his Master's visit.
"Did you have anywhere in mind?" He asked, running his fingers through his wildly untamed hair.
Obi-Wan grinned, "Of course."
Anakin had to admit that the smell of deep fried food and artificially flavoured milkshakes did boost his mood as Obi-Wan held the door of the diner open for him. It was always a successful way to cheer Ahsoka up after a long day of classes or a horrendous campaign.
Immediately, they were collected into the tight embrace of the laughing Besalisk. "Obi-Wan, Ani, good to see you both!"
Anakin gasped for breath once Dexter finally released them, and Obi-Wan patted his friend on the shoulder, "It's nice to see you as well, Dex. It's been too long."
"Yeah, no kidding," Dex ushered them into a booth, and Anakin noticed it was as far from the other diner patrons as possible. "I'll admit, the HoloNet makes it look like you've had the week from hell."
Anakin bit his lip.
Obi-Wan's smile simply morphed into something more forced, "Well, we're trying to adapt."
"Let me get you guys some shakes," Dex said, clapping Anakin hard on the shoulder. "Hey, FLO! Where is that damn girl?"
"I'll fetch her," Obi-Wan said, standing up, "You'll work yourself to death, dear friend."
Dexter scoffed as Obi-Wan went in search of the waitress, "Says the one."
As soon as Obi-Wan was out of sight, Dexter leaned forward until Anakin could smell his breath, "She came in two days ago."
Anakin felt his eyes widen, his mouth opening to ask a dozen questions, but Dexter stopped him with a gently raised hand.
"I didn't interrogate her, but I asked how she was getting on. I gave her some food, and enough cake slices to last her a while. You know how much of a sweet tooth she has!"
"How was she?" Anakin demanded.
"She was alright, not leaping for joy or anything, but better than I expected." Dexter rubbed the back of his head, "I asked if she wanted to pass on a message to you guys, she said I could tell you that she was here once enough time passed for her to clear off."
His heart sank.
"I gave her a comm and she knows your frequency." Dexter continued, "She didn't want me to tell you hers, but you can have peace knowing she'll call you if she needs you."
Anakin couldn't help but feel like Ahsoka was purposefully trying to cut him out of her life.
Day 7
Luminara sought Anakin out at breakfast, her headpiece back in place and eyes less dull.
"May I join you, Anakin?" She asked gently, offering a cup, "I noticed you were lacking some caf."
Anakin smiled, gesturing to the seat opposite him. It felt strange to consider Luminara as something of an acquaintance now, and he briefly wondered if Ahsoka would find their newfound friendship strange as well.
Maybe it would make her feel enraged.
"I spoke to Barriss yesterday," Luminara said, pushing his cup towards him once she was sat down. "I'm glad I went. Thank you for encouraging me."
He felt equally pleased that she had been able to see Barriss, and also jealous.
After all, he still had no idea where Ahsoka was, or if she was safe. Sure, Dexter had given her a comm, but he didn't know her frequency. He hadn't received any calls or messages either, nor had Padmé or Rex.
"How did it go?" He asked, pushing his own feelings aside.
"She told me that she has felt this way about the Order for about five months." Luminara held her own cup of caf in between her hands, not taking a sip, "In questioning, she admitted that the bombing and Turmond's death was premeditated."
Anakin looked down at the table. "Do you know if she always intended to set Ahsoka up?"
"It's unclear." Luminara sighed, "Barriss claims she was simply in the right place at the right time to be blamed. She did admit that she was an easier target compared to a Knight."
The thought that Barriss chose Ahsoka because she was less likely to be taken seriously as a Padawan made Anakin feel blindingly angry.
A green hand rested on his forearm, squeezing gently, "I told Barriss that Ahsoka has left the Order. She feels terrible. For what it's worth, she always considered her a friend."
That didn't mean much to Anakin. Barriss was a smart girl, she was surely capable of figuring out that her actions would have had devastating consequences for Ahsoka, even after being proven innocent.
Friends didn't do those types of things to each other anyway.
"We always put so much pressure on our students to follow in our footsteps." Luminara said, removing her hand when she sensed it didn't provide any comfort. "It was difficult to remember that we weren't training them to be soldiers."
He watched as Luminara took a long sip of caf, then placed the cup back down.
"Barriss has walked down a path that has no future," she told him, "But Ahsoka has decided to move onto greater things. I have no doubt that she'll struggle to find her place in the galaxy, Anakin."
He hoped she was right.