#time for the obligatory Master watching over their seriously injured Padawan

[nny11writes]

My Padawan- Chapter 7

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There was something about the war that worked well for Ahsoka, something that helped her to stay focused and present. Something that sang in her bones with the thrill, and something guilty that nipped at her heels.

It was different now. Force it was different now. For the last few years she’d been fighting for more freedom and more missions, she’d been dying the last month to get back to it. Now she had Petro. Petro who was not prepared for the missions. Who was young and new, and was having reality tear away the impression he’d had of war. He sat shivering in muddy trenches with bombs dropping all around them, he stood tall at the front of men deflecting blaster bolts back into their enemies, he kneeled holding troopers as they died.

Now he was laid up in the medical bay.

She hated seeing anyone in here. It always felt like someone was grabbing her heart, like she was swallowing salt.

He’d rushed ahead of her, he’d seen an opening and rushed to secure it. He had twisted to look at her, his blue saber lifted in the air with a grin. “I’ve got this Master!”

The grenade had gone off, Ahsoka had felt the warning and had pushed him with the force. It saved his legs, but as he stumbled to his feet a droid got a shot in. Lower left chest, he’d dropped like a stone. Ahsoka had gone to him, cradled him even as she swung her main saber around to protect them. Kix had practically had to headbutt her to get to his Little Commander. Rex had pulled her along, gotten her to focus on the fight.

It had been the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life. Letting go and turning her back on him.

Ahsoka sat silently next to Petro, Kix had put him into a medically induced coma to help stabilize him. Petro was just waiting his turn in the bacta tank. It wasn’t a very comforting thought. His face was smooth but very pale, a few tubes coming out of his nose and a bacta pack on his bare chest. Ahsoka hadn’t thought of Petro as a youngling for a while now, a good year on the front lines had mostly ripped that away. But right now she was reminded of just how young he was. How small he was at 12 years old. He shouldn’t be here. She had been too young when she’d been thrown in at 15, and he’d come willingly at 11. Ahsoka had known on some level that it was wrong and hated it, but it was easily hidden away by her longing to go back to what she knew. Easily swept aside after the first terrifying fight she watched him in.

Ahsoka did this to him. Even if the fighting was less, she volunteered them to the front. She was a soldier Jedi, this was what she was good at. This was her fault.

Ahsoka sat with him, stroking his hair and softly humming. Pushing her love to him and trying to hold back her fear.

When he woke up two days later with only a dull throb for it, he’d smiled shakily at her. “Guess I didn’t quite have it huh?”

She smiled at him, hands shaking so badly that she laced her fingers together. “Situational awareness training for you Petro.” She let him groan before adding, “And I was wondering...how would you feel about some soresu training with Master Obi-Wan?”

Petro eyes went wide as he whispered, “Yes! Yes please! Wow! ...I should get shot more often.”

Ahsoka didn’t snap at him. Didn’t yell the way she wanted to. Didn’t cry or do anything to upset him. She was amazed that she hadn’t broken all her fingers with how hard she’d squeezed her hands together as she mumbled, “Try not to Padawan.”

She definitely needed to apologize to Anakin sometime soon for her own reckless stunts and terrible humor she’d only honed with the help of the men. It was a miracle he hadn’t lost all his hair dealing with her.