Star Wars the Clone Wars - One shots

In seven days

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.