When You Come Home

-24-

"Hey, Anakin," Kitster's eyes were bright as he shoved Anakin playfully. "I thought you were never coming!"

"To the skatepark?" Anakin retorted. "I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

"Is it just you today?" Kitster questioned, standing up on his bike to peer around Anakin.

"Yeah, just me, he didn't want to come today."

"Whatever," Kitster shrugged, then dug around in his pockets, extracting a couple of small coins. "Here – for your secret project, whatever it is."

Anakin smiled gratefully and took them. He readjusted the strap on his helmet, dropping his skateboard to the ground. He frowned at his friend. "Where's your helmet? You'll fall and crack your head open. Also, you're too close to the big kids' spot: our area is that way!"

He laughed, spinning his bike around and pedalling toward the first slope. "Your mom is always on you about safety!"

"Actually, my father said that," Anakin muttered, rolling his eyes as Kitster plummeted over the edge. He hopped on his board and kicked after him but stumbled to a stop as he heard the loud clattering of metal and rubber tires. "Kitster?" His breath quickened as he saw a tangled mess of bike and Kitster sprawled on the smooth concrete. Carefully dropping down the slope and skidding to a halt beside him, he crouched next to his friend. "Are you okay?"

Kitster burst out laughing, pushing the bike off himself and struggling to his feet. "That was fun!"

Anakin wanted to laugh, too, but suddenly the air was sucked from his lungs as he turned to see a dark alleyway and a smoking wreck. Rex was barking out orders, extracting his broken and battered friend from the crashed car. Beggar's Canyon glowered at him as the rain sleeted down. Kitster's face was pale, his eyes closed, and his body bruised.

He was dead, and Anakin was to blame.

Gentle hands grabbed him and guided away, pulling him from the chaos of shattered glass and busy people. He looked up, into the concerned eyes and sad smile of Rex. "Come on, kid," he coaxed him away.

Anakin forced a look over his shoulder, a fresh wave of grief and shock numbing his system as he saw the paramedics taking away his mother.

Rex moved Anakin's chin away, steering his gaze away. "No, don't look there. Just keep walking. Where's your family?"

"My brother ...." Anakin whispered, "where's my brother?"

"Where do you live, kid?"

"He was there," he said vaguely, glancing over his shoulder and pointing to the bushes. "He was right there ...."

The unchanging bushes rustled but withheld the information Anakin so badly needed. His eye rested on a young girl picking through the underbrush, looking back to a pretty redhead — Anakin knew her name, but couldn't think of it; she was a friend of his father's. The girl looked so familiar: friendly, smiley, and sweet. Dark skin, big blue eyes, and a white smudge over her left eyebrow ....

"Ahsoka?!" Anakin yelled, sitting bolt upright. He scrambled out of his sleeping bag, kicking it away as he scrambled to find Ahsoka's mattress. Seeing it was empty, he veered off course, asking baffled soldiers until Fives pointed him outside. Dashing out of the warehouse, oblivious to the beautiful sun and soft breeze, he flung his gaze around until he spotted her wandering towards him, Omega trotting happily at her heels.

"Ahsoka!" Anakin called, adrenaline pumping through his system and pushing him until he was almost on top of her. "Were you there when my mom died? It was in a car crash, in Coruscant, a cross-intersection with traffic lights, near ...." He gripped her shoulders, staring deep into her big blue eyes as though somehow they would tell him whether his dream was just that, or whether another repressed memory had surfaced.