If there's a fic you'd like us to write, I have a SW fic request form which you can fill out. We'll gift write all the requests we get... eventually. :D The link is as follows, but with no spaces: forms . gle / rmXWtRomMMaULuPa6
We also made a tribute for Anakin on our new YT channel. Check it out if you're interested. :P Again, no spaces in the link: youtu . be / T9hdVkokQa4
~ Amina Gila
The sound of an engine draws Anakin's attention overhead, his gaze following the gunships flying past. Master Yoda is here; he can sense it. The last time he saw Yoda, it had been in the Council chambers. When – when Ahsoka walked away. And now... he turns, spotting Ahsoka sitting dejectedly on the edge of the platform.
Now. Now is when he has to make up his mind. He feels like he's frozen in place. Himself, or Ahsoka. It should be easy. He's done everything since the start of the war for her. Not for himself. Never for himself. But then he remembers her closeness with the 501st, all the battles they spent fighting side-by-side. How she saved so many of them. How could he deny her something like that?
As much as being beside her hurts, it feels right. It's filled – mostly – the emptiness he's feeling. But after he failed her, how can he possibly risk it again? He can't let her have the same fate. He can't fail her again, but he can't – he can't bear to lose her. He just lost her. He can't just let her go. Why? This is his failing. This is why he'll never be a proper Jedi, why he can't do anything right, not even once. He can't let her go.
He thinks about the kind of master Obi-Wan was, for a long moment, and wonders if he is really what Ahsoka needed during the war. Yes, he was, but then Anakin can't help but remember when Obi-Wan faked his death despite everything. Would he still do that? Of course, he would. Later. When Ahsoka needed him most. He can't – he can't let her go through what he did back then. And in all honesty, he doesn't know how Obi-Wan would treat her.
He remembers getting so frustrated when Obi-Wan never listened to him. He remembers how Ahsoka was frequently irritated with him for not listening to her, even though he followed her rash ideas nearly half the time. At least in part. He thinks of how demanding she was. Obi-Wan couldn't be the master she wants, but maybe he can be the one she needs.
This is wrong. Why does he have to be put in this situation? Regardless of what happens, they're all going to be hurt one way or another. This is wrong. It's like they were set up to fail. He can't train Ahsoka. He can't. But he can't let Obi-Wan train her either, can he? But maybe Obi-Wan could do it right, if Anakin told him what she needed – no, no, he wouldn't listen to anything Anakin told him, he should know this, but it's nice to wish – but he looks at Ahsoka again, seeing the dejected slump of her shoulders as she sits there alone. It's wrong. He shouldn't do this, but he can't – he can't see her walk away again. The very thought floods him with panic. He doesn't want to be alone like that ever again. And he will be if Obi-Wan has Ahsoka. She was the only person who was always there, who understood and supported him when he had no one else.
He's not strong enough. Why not? He can't even bear to let her go, even if it is to a much better life. He can't bear to be the cause of the hurt and rejection she would have if he turned her down. Why can't he just be like Obi-Wan even once? Be that level-headed and logical? Obi-Wan wouldn't have a problem with it. No, he didn't. "I did what I had to do –"
Maybe in a way he gets it now, but this is something entirely different. He can't train Ahsoka, but he can't not be around her either. He needs her; he can't let her go, not now.
Is he going to risk failing Ahsoka again, or is he going to reject her? Both will hurt her, and he can't bear the thought of causing her pain. What is he supposed to do? He can't even help train her. He has no idea where he went wrong, all he knows is that he did. Was it in the Force? Or the war? Or... his methods? Or his darkness and recklessness? Or his fighting? He has no idea. He can't train anyone ever again. He'll do it wrong, and he'll lose them, and the Council won't trust them because they don't trust him. He can't let her go, though, and he can't...
Anakin will count himself lucky if he lives long enough to regret this. He moves over to the platform and slowly sits next to her, a part of him aching to just pull her into a hug and never, ever let go. Memories of long ago – of the future that will never come into being – flicker through his mind again. He remembers what he said before; it's one of the only things he remembers word-for-word. He really hadn't known how to come out and say it back then. He doesn't now, either.
It's like some sort of twisted messed up punishment. He didn't want her at first, but then he couldn't let her go. Now he wants her more than anything, but he can't have her. He lived his life once by making this choice, and the only way to stop it is doing the opposite. But he's going to hurt her, one way or another. Anakin slowly reaches over, resting a hand on her shoulder. He's so used to it, even if she doesn't know him at all, but it's the closest thing to an apology he can give her. Even if he wanted to say anything he wouldn't dare.
He lowers his head and closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to ensure she doesn't realize he's about to cry. He won't let her see it. Can't.
The moment – it must've barely lasted a second – is broken when the gunship lands. Anakin stands, lifting a hand to wipe his eyes after ensuring no one's looking. "C'mon, Snips." His voice is shaky. She stands up, snatching up her backpack and following him. Her presence is gloomy, and Anakin hates knowing he's the one causing her pain.
"Great job, General Skywalker," Rex congratulates as they board the ship, and it takes off. "You too, kid."
Somewhere as they go, Anakin finds Ahsoka's gaze on him again and turns to meet her eyes, trying to ignore how his heart painfully clenches. Months and months – years – of time together, and they are no more. Nothing. It all meant nothing. No, he wanted this. A chance to start over. She would've been a Knight, if not for – stop. But she's giving him that look, like she's looking at a hero, but he failed her. No. He finally looks away, watching the passing scenery. Yoda will be here. Yoda, who he hasn't seen since the Council was asking Ahsoka back, who also failed to protect her and turned his back on her when she needed him most. No, no one can know how much he doesn't want to see the Jedi Master right now.
He's here. Alone. Back in time, before everything fell apart, he can't judge them for what they haven't done. It was his fault at the end of the day, anyway. He was supposed to protect her, from the Jedi Council too, if need be. The guilt gnaws at him, but he pulls himself together. He won't let them hurt her, whatever the cost. Not this time.
"Thanks for the ride, Rex," Anakin tells the clone before climbing out and heading towards the Jedi Masters who stand near each other while the clones hurry about behind them. He comes to a tense halt several feet away.
"Trouble, you have, with your new Padawan I hear?" the Jedi Master asks. That voice itself sends out a tumult of memories and emotions, unwanted feelings he doesn't have time for.
Anakin crosses his arms and is about to blurt out something about the only trouble he has with Ahsoka is because of the Council's stupidity and has to remind himself again that they haven't reached those levels. Yet, because they will if he doesn't manage to stop it.
Luckily, Obi-Wan comes to the rescue. "I was explaining the situation to Master Yoda."
Yeah, sure. Like Obi-Wan even understands the situation. A part of Anakin longs to tell him, but he can't bring himself to do it. He can't... fully trust him anymore, and keeping his distance is the best he can do. It's the best he's ever been able to do. And this is so hard, having to finally say that he can't do it. It's pathetic, really, that he can't do so much as take care of a teenager without ruining everything.
"If not ready for a padawan you are, perhaps to Obi-Wan she can go."
Of course, he does this now. Anakin can only hope no one notices his surge of anger. Yoda manipulated him into this from the start. They forced him to take her. On hindsight he wonders if that wasn't part of the reason he hadn't wanted her, because he felt they would end badly? It's like they're bringing up his past all over again, reminding him of how much they didn't want him, how they have to make all his decisions for him. He has no free-will. And then they just took her away.
"No," he objects sharply. He should think this through more. He knows it. But now he's tempted to take her out of spite just to prove he can, except he doesn't have enough faith in himself. "There are no problems. I can't make this decision for her. We need more time." It's completely unfair how the Council cam make decisions about a person's entire life all at once like that.
"Then go with you she will, to the Teth system. Kidnapped, Jabba the Hutt's son has been."
"Oh, so rescuing Hutts is the Jedi's job now?" he blurts out.
Obi-Wan gives him that 'that is no way to talk to a Jedi Master' look, and he tries so hard not to groan. Doesn't think he quite manages it. This is outright unfair. He can't understand. He does everything they ask him to. He did everything for Ahsoka, because he was supposed to protect her, having been assigned to by the Jedi. And he stuck through to the very end. The Jedi know about his past, but they don't care. It's that simple. None of them do. He doesn't even have Ahsoka to support him this time. They would never do this to anyone else. He's human, too. Why does he have to be held to such impossible standards? How much does he have to do before it's enough? Before he's worthy... of anything?
"Anakin, we need the Hutts allegiance to give us an advantage over Dooku. I'll negotiate with Jabba while you find Jabba's son."
Anakin can only be grateful that Yoda doesn't comment about how Anakin reacted, but he is highly suspicious he'll be getting an earful about it later. He's not really looking forwards to talking to Obi-Wan. He'll have to watch everything he says. He can't accidently give anything away, and no one would believe him if he blurted out the truth. It's not a risk he's willing to take.
He shouldn't've reacted like that. He has to do what's expected of him. Blindly. Always. Because he should be better than this. He can't be emotionless like everyone else. Why can no one understand that? Or does it not matter? Of course, it doesn't. It never has.
"Come on, Master," Ahsoka calls cheerily, heading back towards the gunship. "It doesn't sound that hard. I'll find Rex and get the troops organized." Right. The clones, who don't even know Ahsoka. Great. So, he'll have to go through all that again to make them trust each other? The Force seems to have a very bad sense of humor. That, or teaching him the worst way possible to be careful what he wishes for.
"Don't worry. Just teach her everything I taught you, and she'll turn out fine," Obi-Wan's voice breaks through his thoughts.
Because that worked out so well last time. "I'm not the kind of master you are." Anakin doubts he managed to keep the bitterness out of his tone as he spins around and follows Ahsoka. He somehow manages to hold himself together until they reach the cruiser, barely long enough for him to make it to his cabin and order Ahsoka to rest – she went to talk to the clones anyway, which is probably a good thing, and he makes a mental note to tell her more about them later on – before practically collapsing from exhaustion. He's so worn out.
It's still hard to comprehend that he's actually back here. Most of all, that he's the only one who remembers everything that happened. He didn't even have a forewarning before time-traveling, even if he is glad to be back. This time, he actually understands how to be a general. He's not still learning, and it'll give him more time to gain more experience. In some ways, Anakin really does agree with Rex's 'experience outranks everything' statement. It's so true. Now Anakin is basically the only Jedi who actually knows how to lead. Even thinking about what the future has in store is exhausting. To relive it all again...
He slides onto the floor, leaning back against the wall. This... Padme and Rex hardly remember him anymore. Obi-Wan doesn't remember years of the war, which is both good and bad, but Anakin doesn't know if he can bring himself to trust him anyway. It's probably better not to.
And then his mind wanders back to the person who sent him here in the first place. Ahsoka doesn't remember him at all. She doesn't. She never will. This is a child, not the girl he raised. When she walked away, he had known it would be the last time he ever saw her, but now he knows it as a definite fact, because there is no way back. Ahsoka, his Ahsoka, is gone. Really, truly gone, and nothing he ever does will bring her back.
And now that he's alone, as the realization crushes him, he lets himself break down and cry. She's gone because he wasn't strong enough to save her. He promised his mother he wouldn't fail anyone again. And he won't fail her again.
He wishes someone – anyone, at this point – would help him. There's no one. All his life, he's been passed around as an unwanted burden. Nothing he does will help it. The only person who wanted him is Ahsoka, and just like the other Jedi it was only because he's 'the Chosen One', whatever exactly that means. He wishes the Father had bothered shedding more light on that. But... the Ones are still alive, so... It's not something he'd do unless he's truly desperate, but at this point he wouldn't shun the idea anymore.
***
All things considered, the battle of Teth went surprisingly fast and well. It was the same as usual, except he's fighting alongside men he saw die in a different lifetime. He can't do anything different than last time without getting himself killed – which he isn't willing to do just yet, because he knows things that will change the war, but otherwise he wouldn't really care – so he threw himself into the battle. Like always. Except this time, he's had years of experience. Both walkers made it up, as well as considerably more men from what he remembers.
That doesn't mean his heart doesn't clench painfully when he hears the exact death count from Rex after they reach the top of the wall.
"There's too many droids here for them to be renegades," Rex remarks as he scans the debris scattered across the platform.
Interesting. Ventress is here – he can feel the lingering darkness – but she's shielding her presence well. "The Sith are involved in this," Anakin replies. "Let's find Jabba's son and get out of here before more come in."
"No problem. The hard part's over," Ahsoka grins.
"The hard part's starting," Anakin reminds. "War is never this simple. Now, let's check out the monastery."
***
Anakin is seriously tempted to behead that traitorous droid that thought it could fool them but plays along anyway. He doesn't want anyone to think something is out of place just yet, and he definitely doesn't want to explain it to anyone until he gets some of this sorted out. He aches to keep Ahsoka with him – it feels so right – but he doesn't think he can train her. Maybe – maybe if he asked Obi-Wan to train her with him? Except then, he remembers painfully how he hadn't believed in her innocence, either. And he just can't do it.
This. This is it. He's the only one who can train Ahsoka, who will stand by her until the end. And he's also the only person who can't do it. But... is there a choice?
Anakin does his best to banish those thoughts from mind as they continue walking through the darkened hallways. He sees the droids lining the walls just out of sight but doesn't make a move. Let them attack first. In a moment, Ahsoka will want to –
"Master, you know you're walking us into a trap?"
"I know." Of course.
"We just passed two more droids!"
"I know."
"Well, I don't like this," she grumbles, finally stopping. "Can I just take care of them?"
"Well, if you feel so strongly about it, go ahead," he shrugs. Ahsoka spins around and ignites her lightsaber. Anakin watches as she destroys the droids with far more ease than most younglings her age – she was always very advanced like that – but she's not the same as the one he knew. He doesn't know why he keeps looking for her. He knows she's gone forever, but it's so difficult to see an identical face and presence without expecting her. "Not bad. You remembered to destroy their weapon first," he remarks.
"I'm improving your technique."
"You missed one," Anakin informs her, stabbing the final battle droid without even looking at it.
"I did that on purpose," she mutters grumpily, and he decides not to call her out on the lie.
They get Rotta without any further complications. He hates this. He hates every bit of being around the Huttlet. He doesn't understand it. Why? Why do the Jedi not care how he feels? They've always done things like this to him. If this is some sort of test, he's far from impressed by it. He tries to keep telling himself it's worth it if they can bring the war to an end, but it's gone on far too long; it's been three years for Anakin, even if it hasn't been for anyone else. He's tired of destruction. He's tired of... literally everything.
Definitely including the wailing Huttlet Ahsoka is currently carrying, He may be only a child, one desperate to go home, but Anakin knows what kind of beings the Hutts are. Memories of Zygerria burn at the edge of his mind. They aren't any worse than the Hutts. No one came out unharmed. Rex, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, even himself. It doesn't matter how he feels, he understands that now. No one cares. If only it were so easy to just accept it and move on, but nothing stops the angry resentment coiling within him.
Ahsoka still isn't officially his Padawan, but he has little choice except to take her. Even if he can't train her.
And he finds himself again asking the same question he has a million times. How much will the Jedi require of him before he gains some measure of acceptance?
"Master, I think this little guy is sick. He's burning up with a fever," Ahsoka warns as they walk out the doors.
"I know," he bites back, then flinches when he remembers the last time someone said those words and promises to never, ever use them again. "We have to get him up to the cruiser immediately."
It's a matter of minutes later that the transmission comes through, right after they get Rotta into the backpack and Anakin dumped him off on Ahsoka again.
"Anakin, did you locate Jabba's son?" Obi-Wan asks.
"We have him, but it looks like the Separatists are behind his abduction," Anakin replies. "There's too many droids here."
"This smells like Count Dooku to me," Obi-Wan remarks.
"I think it's Stinky you smell," Ahsoka calls back.
"Well, the Huttlet's sick, and I'm not sure how easy it'll be to get him back to Tatooine alive," Anakin explains.
The Jedi Master frowns. "This whole rescue mission may backfire on us."
"We're being careful," he objects irritably. "We have to hurry and leave before the Separatists come back."
"They just did," Ahsoka announces, pointing up at the sky. Anakin follows her gaze to where a Separatist ship is descending towards the platform.
"Ahsoka, get inside with the Huttlet!" Anakin orders immediately. No matter what, he's not willing to lose her to something as stupid as this. "We'll call you back. We could use a little help here if you have the time," he says in a rush, whipping out his lightsaber. He can hear the roar of the droid's engines rushing towards them now.
"I'll get there as soon as I can," the Jedi Master promises before the hologram flickers off.
Anakin doesn't hesitate before throwing himself into the battle.
There's not a moment to waste. It's not a risk he's willing to or needs to take.