Ghosts of the Past

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It had been far too long since Ahsoka had last seen Anakin and she was starting to get concerned.

Plus, he wasn't answering calls on his commlink and there was a Council report to make.

"I'm gonna go look for Anakin," Ahsoka told Rex and Cody.

"Good luck, Commander," her ever-faithful captain answered. "Hopefully you find him before that Council meeting of yours."

If I were Anakin Skywalker, where would I be?

He wasn't on the bridge.

He wasn't in the training rooms.

He wasn't in the mess hall.

He wasn't in the clone barracks.

He wasn't in the medbay (though Force forbid that Anakin Skywalker would ever willingly step foot in there).

So that left only his quarters.

Ahsoka punched the code into the keypad and with a soft ding, the door slid open.

She saw the light escaping from beneath the fresher door at the same time she felt his presence in the Force.

He was here, alright.

The Padawan prodded at Anakin's Signature but immediately retracted her presence; his shields were tightly coiled around it and it had never before felt so hostile. It was almost as if he had hung a bright neon "KEEP AWAY!" sign on it, daring anyone to even approach.

"Master? You in there?"

Dead silence.

Then, her montrals picked up on sharp, laboured breaths from the other side of the door.

"Master?" Ahsoka called out again, softer this time, "Are you alright? Do you need help?"

"Snips," Anakin eventually answered, "could you... could you h-help me?" His voice sounded so small, so meek. So powerless. At that moment, she would have traded anything to hear the trademark smirk in his voice again, anything to relieve him of the pain.

"Of course, Master, I'm coming in."

It was her who had to be strong for the both of them now.

Upon entering the fresher, Ahsoka noticed his robes were strewn haphazardly across the floor, and he wasn't wearing anything, save for a towel wrapped around his waist.
When her eyes landed on the multitude of angry red gashes that covered his body, her blood ran cold. "Who did this to you?" she demanded quietly, horror quickly becoming anger at the person who dared hurt her beloved Master so deeply.

His throat bobbed but otherwise said nothing.

"Anakin?"

He uttered one word: "Her."

And then it dawned on her. How did she not realize it earlier? The Zygerrian Queen was the only one who had been so close to him during this mission. If she'd been willing to go this far, there was no telling what else she'd done. It wasn't the time to plan revenge on Scintel right now; she was dead anyway. Ahsoka, for the briefest moment, wished she could come back to life for just a long enough so that she could endure the same pain she'd put Anakin through.

Ahsoka pulled out her mini medkit from her belt and from it, a meagre stack of bacta wipes. "Alright Master, I'm going to clean your wounds now, okay? I know it's going to sting, but we can't let them get infected. It'll be worse then."

The Togrutan Padawan began working from her Master's back, dabbing the salve as gently as she could on his wounds. Anakin held himself together remarkably, only hissing through his teeth or clenching his fist a handful of times.

"That's it, Master, you're doing great. We're almost done with your torso."

But of course, Fate wasn't feeling particularly forgiving that day. She'd run out of wipes.

"Master, I've run out of bacta wipes. We may need to go to the medbay."

"No, no medbay," Anakin whispered, voice trembling. "No medbay."

"Why not? Coric or Kix can fix you up in an instant. So let's g-"

"No!" Anakin repeated, more forcefully this time. "No medbay!"

Inwardly cursing her luck, Ahsoka told Anakin not to move; she would be back with a fresh stack of wipes in a few minutes.

***

Coric sat at his desk, focusing as he filled out paperwork until he heard a loud bang from inside the medbay. He hurried to inspect it, only to see his young Commander with a panicked look on her face as she hurriedly rifled through the drawers, not stopping until she found the bacta patches.

"I take it she found Skywalker," Kix mumbled to his senior.

"No kidding. If she needs that many patches, the General is gonna need pain meds and a light dose of anesthetics."

"Commander!" Coric called out, half amusement, half exasperation.

"No time!"

The two 501st medics teamed up on their frantic Commander and explained to her the importance of the patient's pain and comfort levels. Ahsoka had to admit that despite her focusing on the gentle cleaning of her Master's wounds, she'd felt Anakin's pain spike through their bond more than she could count, and he was probably subduing it too so that she didn't feel the full extent of it. 

Yikes. 

With the newly acquired wipes, medication, anesthetics and Kix and Coric's instructions, Ahsoka headed back to find Anakin. 

***

Thanks to the mix of meds and anesthetics in his system, Anakin was, understandably, not completely himself, but Ahsoka still jumped in surprise when she felt his hand latch onto her wrist. "I'm supposed to be a hero," he mumbled. "The hero. The Hero with No Fear. How would it look to my men if they see their General is weak?" 

"Master," she said earnestly, looking him in the eyes. "You are not weak. You're an incredible leader and an even better General. You're kind to your men, and your friends as well. You treat them well. There's a reason why the boys look up to you; it's out of genuine respect. There are people, like Krell, who merely hold the title of Jedi General because of their position in the Order, but who don't earn it. People like Krell aren't respected by the troops they command, because they don't deserve it. You do. I know there are probably certain expectations that you feel the need to live up to, and they crush you sometimes, but I just wanted to reassure you that you're doing great. You were given those titles because people see your work, see you, and respect you. If anything, I think it's something to be proud of."

Ahsoka realized she'd gone on a tangent, and at some point during it, Anakin's eyes had fluttered shut. She didn't know how much of that he'd actually understood, but if need be, she would repeat again and again until he truly believed it. 

For now, she would let him rest. As she stepped away to tidy up the fresher, Anakin spoke through their bond. "I may be disoriented, but I hope you know how proud I am of you, Snips. And thank you for having my back... literally."

***

a/n: aaAND there we go! sorry that this took so long, but i just didn't know how to write the ending so i did my best. hopefully y'all still enjoyed it! i'll try to get at least one update in per week, but if i don't, it's cuz schoolwork and life made me dizzy and i'll update asap! 

quick note! since i browse ao3 (and pinterest) a lot, i get a lot of inspiration from there, so here, inspiration credits are due to dieFabuliererin for her awesome oneshot on the aftermath of zygerria! i wanted to explore this concept a little bit too; hopefully this spinoff did ur fic justice lolol

see y'all next time! 

- jazzy :)

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 | Snips & Skyguy OneshotsWhere stories live. Discover now