Hello, everyone! Katierosefun aka Caroline here! And I'm back with a new TCW fic, because it has been waaay too long. I started this story a few weeks ago, actually - maybe even a few months ago, but at one point, I just put it off and never worked on it again until now! *throws confetti* YAY FOR THAT! So...enjoy!

Red

To Ahsoka Tano, red was just a bright color. The color found in the last of the poppies growing on some temperate planet; the color found as a sun sets in the sky. The color of flags and carpets and passion. (At least, that was what the net dramas described the color red as.)

It was just a color.

xXx

"Get down!" Ahsoka didn't hesitate to hit the ground. She didn't bother brushing the dirt away from her face, even when she had a bunch of it shoved over her cheeks; over her lips; over her eyelids. Ahsoka held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut as she heard screams circulating around herself. This was always the worst part. Listening to people shriek in despair and agony.

"Stay down," someone – Rex – instructed. Ahsoka only barely nodded her head as another bomb blew off – this time, the young Togruta could feel the heat of the explosion brush on the side of her face. As the ground shook underneath her, Ahsoka tried to collect her thoughts. Troopers scattered, she thought to herself. Skyguy's – who knows where. Hopefully safe. I'm with…Rex. Right. Rexter. Good, old Rex –

Ahsoka had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from shrieking in surprise when something hit the ground in front of her. "Back! Back!" she shouted, stretching out her hand. Closing her eyes, Ahsoka willed for the bomb to push itself away – and only barely managed to do so as it blew off in the next few seconds.

"They've got us surrounded," Rex said, standing up. He already had his twin blasters ready – one in each hand. Ahsoka only turned to the other troopers surrounding her. Though their heads were covered, the girl could sense the tensions running high. Breathing in, she said as confidently as she could, – something she had learned in her short time out in the field – "We won't go down without a fight."

Ahsoka wanted to say something more – especially when someone from the group spoke, "Yes, Commander. We'll be right beside you."

There was something overwhelmingly admirable about the way that the troopers all stood together, all of their guns cocked and ready. Ahsoka was aware of the bombs exploding around her, but as she watched her friends fire mercilessly at the droids coming in, she felt as though nothing could be defeated by them.

xXx

When Anakin came to Ahsoka's aid, it was too late.

Ahsoka didn't even bother looking up from her position on the rock when she heard him running towards Rex and her. Instead, she was watching a single, thin stream of blood run down one of the trooper's heads. She felt an icy fist curl itself over her heart as she tried to recall the trooper's name – she couldn't even remember. She couldn't even ask. He couldn't even say it. Maybe he didn't even have a name – maybe this was just his first battle and he wasn't going to choose his own name until afterwards. Whatever it was now, Ahsoka couldn't ever know.

They had all gone down fighting. Just as Ahsoka had predicted. All of them, except Rex and Ahsoka themselves.

And blood. That was something that Ahsoka had seen several times – human blood – though this sight was perhaps a bit more than all of the other times that Ahsoka had seen the substance. I could've done more. I should have done more, Ahsoka thought, staring blankly at the red blood darken the dirt ground.

Ahsoka was well aware of Rex standing up and talking to Anakin's troopers. She was also well aware of the fact that her master was sitting down next to her. There were a few moments of silence and then, clearing his throat, Anakin asked, "Are you hurt anywhere?" Ahsoka numbly shook her head. She kept her eyes fixed on the blood. It was an incredibly dark shade of red, now that she really thought of it.

"Ahsoka?" Anakin's voice was unexpectedly soft.

Ahsoka looked up.

The older man placed a hand on Ahsoka's shoulder. "Wanna get out of here?"

Ahsoka nodded.

xXx

The sound of water rushing from the faucet was the only thing that really snapped Ahsoka out of her daze. She stared dumbly at the streaming thing – at the way it hit the sink and made a loud roaring sound, similar to the sound of crashing waves and insides of conch shells and too many blankets piling on top of each other and heavy wind through trees and blood pounding through someone's ears in adrenaline. Ahsoka inhaled sharply and looking around the refresher, asked, "Why're we in here again?"

"You've got some stuff on your arms. We can't exactly use a proper shower, but I thought that this much might at least help for now," Anakin replied. When Ahsoka stared up at him in confusion, the older man pointedly looked down at her arms. Ahsoka's eyes followed and landed on the red stains all over her arms. She flinched. None of the blood was hers – she knew that.

"We're gonna wash it off, right?" Anakin said, meeting Ahsoka's eyes. "Okay? Okay. Okay." Ahsoka stepped forward and tentatively placed her hands in the sink. She froze for a minute, transfixed by the sudden iciness of the water as it hit her skin – but then, with a gentle reminder from Anakin, the Togruta started to wash the blood off.

Not that it was entirely necessary. Blood on skin wasn't like blood on cloth. It didn't require intense scrubbing or different brands of soap or warm water. Blood on skin slipped off easily. It was almost as though the blood itself wanted to get off of Ahsoka, which the girl might have found ironic, although she didn't feel like laughing.

Though the blood was doing just fine by getting off on its own, Ahsoka started to rub it away a bit harder. She could see the water mixing in with the redness, creating a thin, shallow pool of the stuff at the bottom of the sink before quickly going down the drain.

Harder, harder, harder – the blood had to get out.

Harder, harder, harder – everything was red.

Harder, harder, harder – clone troopers – no, people were screaming.

Harder, harder, harder – everything was red.

Harder, harder, harder – Anakin was shutting off the sink.

"It's all gone," Anakin said, handing Ahsoka a towel. The girl bobbed her head once and started to wipe at her arms and hands. When the towel was dismissed, Ahsoka leaned back against the wall and stared down at her arms. There wasn't any blood left on it – not even a single drop. Some was still sneaking its way around the cracks between her nails and her fingers. It didn't matter, though. Ahsoka felt as though the blood was still all over herself – not only on her arms, but her legs. Her torso. The side of her cheek. At the small of her back. It was everywhere, everywhere, everywhere…

"It's all gone," Anakin repeated. Ahsoka blinked up. The older man took hold of Ahsoka's arm and lifted it up. He pointed at Ahsoka's other hand and added, "You were still rubbing it. It's all gone – you don't need to keep it up." He slowly lowered Ahsoka's arms back down. He breathed out a sigh through his nose and leaned against the wall next to Ahsoka. The room was small (and too small to be cozy), but neither person moved.

"It wasn't your fault." Anakin.

"I know." Ahsoka. Those were the first words she'd spoken since Anakin had found her with Rex – since he had led them both onto the ship.

"I'm sorry." Anakin.

"I know. It wasn't your fault." Ahsoka.

Anakin sighed again. He straightened himself up and turned his head slightly to look at Ahsoka. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. Still in the same quiet voice. As though he was treading on something precious – something small – something fragile – something untouchable. Then again, Ahsoka supposed that this was an untouchable matter.

Ahsoka's feet were beginning to slide, lowering her body closer and closer to the ground. She didn't make any movements to stand back up. "It's supposed to be normal," Ahsoka said at last.

Anakin didn't ask for an explanation. "It is," he replied.

Ahsoka hit the ground with a soft thud. It hurt a bit, but she didn't make a face. "I hate it," she said aloud. "I really, really hate it."

"I do, too."

"I hate the color red, too."

"I don't know about that, Snips. You can pull it off okay."

Ahsoka stared down at her outfit – of course. Nearly all red. She brought her knees up to her chest and re-phrased, "I mean that I hate a single shade of red. Not all reds. But I really hate a single shade." Anakin sat down next to Ahsoka. After a while, he agreed, "I do, too. It's…unsettling. A bad color. It shouldn't be allowed to exist." Ahsoka nodded, warming up to the conversation. "Someone should go back in time and denounce that color. Or maybe change it to something more agreeable. Or maybe not make it a possible color at all." Ahsoka murmured.

They were both tiptoeing around the unsaid subject now, avoiding the obvious word lingering in between comments. Ahsoka knew that Anakin was also doing it just so she could feel better, and that made her feel sad – and maybe a little bit grateful. They wouldn't have to talk about it.

xXx

But of course, Anakin had to talk about it at some point.

"There's more to it," he said quietly as Ahsoka slipped under the covers of her bunk. He was standing next to the door, his eyes focused on the ground. "There's more to what happened back there. You know it, too." Ahsoka wanted to throw the blankets over her head, just to make a point, but she didn't.

"Those men did everything they could to keep each other safe," Anakin murmured. "They did it knowing what was going to happen to them. They knew that there was only a matter of time before they would die. They knew every single detail." He paused. "I used to hate this talk, too. Obi-Wan used to give it to me, but we both knew that he personally hated the idea of men…throwing themselves out to save him. It would be so much better if people could get out of messy situations without having to sacrifice themselves, but that's how it is. And it's much more heroic in words than in real life."

"But I think you should know that. There's more to it, Ahsoka." Anakin finished.

Ahsoka shuffled underneath the blankets. She brought in another breath and closed her eyes.

xXx

Ahsoka knew about Rex's helmet. How it had numbers scratched on the sides – and even though Rex never explained it, Ahsoka knew what the numbers represented. She was, somehow, inspired by that idea.

The minute she was back in her quarters on Coruscant, she sat down on the bed and started to scribble something in red on the wall.

Little numbers were being scrawled on. Ahsoka wondered if she should sign off with a doodle of the Republic's signs over their heads – but instead, she sat back and looked up at the numbers. She'd have to find out the men's names later. She'd write those names atop their heads, as they should be.

In red.

xXx

Red was the color of sacrifice, and Ahsoka saw it too many times after that.

A/N - I'm thinking this will be a very casual story. In other words, I won't be updating this as a main story - more like a story that I can take things easy with. (However, I've got the bad feeling that I'll be tearing my hair out about not completing this story in a few weeks...but let's watch Caroline make bad decisions, because it's always entertaining. XD)

Reviews are always welcome! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!