AN: the idea of how Anakin could (or couldn't) deal with his Padawan's death had been running in my mind for a while, now. Please, enjoy!

You have to let her go

~Padmé ~

"Senator Amidala!" At the call of her name, Padmé turned and watched Master Kenobi hurrying toward her. She waited, letting her fellow Senators streamed around her.

"Master Kenobi," she greeted when he reached her, "what can I do for you?"

He was frowning and she had a very good idea what he wanted to ask. Anakin. Anakin who wasn't himself since their last mission, Anakin who would wake up every night, screaming a single name 'Ahsoka!' as he tore himself from his nightmare, always the same. Anakin, who didn't, couldn't accept his Padawan's death.

He started walking and she fell in steps next to him, "How is he?"

She didn't ask who he was talking about, nor why he would ask her. Since that mission, Anakin wasn't giving a damn about keeping their relationship a secret. She sighed inaudibly, he wasn't giving a single thought about what the Council was thinking or telling him either, these days.

"Not any better, I'm afraid," she whispered, glancing at the Jedi Master.

He nodded sadly, obviously not having hoped for anything else. They walked in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, but all circling around Anakin, Padmé was sure of it.

"The Council is worried," he said softly, breaking the silence, "Anakin has never shown a great deal of respect to it, but now, he doesn't even try to hide it."

"He blames them," she told him softly, "He blames himself," she sighed heavily, "He's not himself, Obi-Wan, since her death, he doesn't seem to care about anything…"

"And that's what worries me the most. Anakin has always cared too much. To see him now…" He trailed off before adding, in a sort of conclusion, "The Council has decided to keep him in the Temple until he's better. Would you mind keeping me update?"

She nodded, "Of course."

With a sad smile, he wished her a good day, before heading back to the Temple. She watched him go, noticing the drop of his shoulders, his defeated demeanor, he who had always walked confidently with his head up. Ahsoka's death wasn't hard only on her Master, she reflected mournfully. Kenobi, though not showing it outright, was also taking it hard. And he had to worry about his former Padawan as well…

Making her way back to her apartments, she could feel tears gathering behind her eyes, glad that no one was around to see them. Anakin wouldn't be there yet, she knew. She didn't ask him where he was spending his days, as he always answered with a laconic 'training'.

She entered her rooms, checking first if Anakin was really nowhere to be seen. He wasn't and she gratefully let herself collapse on the couch, burying her face in her hands and letting her tears fall.

Ahsoka… Her mind conjured the image of the young Togruta, so full of life, always smiling, finding joy even in desperate situation. Their beacon of light in their darkest hours. Only after her death did Padmé came to really understand how much the young Togruta had meant to her and Anakin. She had wriggled her way into their hearts so easily, they hadn't understood just how important she was to them until she was gone.

She didn't try to stop her tears, her sorrow so deep it was painful. She had loved the bright girl, had loved her since the first time a very nervous Anakin brought her to 'present her one of the few non-corrupted Senators of the Senate'. The two of them had immediately liked each other and a true friendship had developed between them, much to Anakin's relief. To Padmé, Ahsoka had been far more than her husband's apprentice, far more than a friend even. No, to Padmé, Ahsoka had been their daughter in all but blood and she knew Anakin felt the same. Ahsoka had been their daughter, they had trusted her with their marriage, they had taken her to Naboo on those small 'breaks' from the Order… With a pang of renewed sadness, Padmé realized she would never again see the girl jumping in one of the lake, discreetly using the Force to soak Anakin through. Never again would she see Anakin's outraged look at her actions, running after the young Togruta to avenge himself. Never again would she fight off her laughter while wondering if she should put an end to it before one of them ended up half drowning the other as Ahsoka's innocent expression never fooled her Master for long. Never again… Why was it so hard to accept it?

She shook her head, no one could understand how much her death hurt. "Ahsoka…" the quiet whimper escaped her lips as she allowed herself to grieve for the bright young girl.

~Anakin ~

Anakin furiously cut down another training droids. They were watching him, he knew it, could feel their gaze on him everywhere he went, inside and out the Temple. They were monitoring his every moves, his every words. But he didn't care. She was dead, killed because he couldn't protect her. With a snarl, another droid went down. There was no emotion, there was peace, yeah, right, he thought wryly, diving to avoid a barrage of shots, what were they, machines? Like the droids they fought, to be able not to feel anything?

He knew Padmé was worried, knew Obi-Wan was too, could see how they were careful about their words in his presence. So unlike the Council. Another wave of anger flooded through him as he remembered the Council's reaction. 'We regret Padawan Tano's death.' 'We are sorry for your loss.' He snarled, they didn't care. What was she to them but another Padawan who would simply never reach Knighthood? They only regretted they were short one good element on the field. They wouldn't miss her, not like he was, not like she deserved to be. Only Master Plo Koon had come to him later that day, offering heartfelt words, nearly too overwhelmed to speak. For him, for his obvious pain, Anakin had made the effort to listen. He had remembered Koon had been the one who had brought her to the Temple, after finding her on Shili. He had cared for the young girl, maybe more than what was allowed, if his reaction to her death was of any indication.

Slashing the last droid in two, Anakin came to a stop in the middle of the room. It was time to join Padmé, she would be back in her apartments by now.

~Dream ~

- DREAM -

They were back on Mortis. Anakin was standing on the platform, watching his Snips' back. He could feel something was wrong, the Force too chaotic around her. He wanted to scream, not again! She turned and he looked in her yellowed eyes, the proof of her corruption. He knew he was dreaming, he knew it, but was unable to change the dream, to stop his twisted memory from playing out.

She launched herself in the air, intend on fighting him. She was good, after all, he had trained her himself. But he found out trying to subdue her without hurting her, while she was dead set on killing him, was proving to be a challenge.

He wanted to stop, to scream at her to snap out of it, to hug her and never let go, to drop his saber, but he had no control over his body, blocking her hits one after the offer, attempting to disarm her.

He blocked a slash, retaliating with a trust, which should have disarmed her. Should. At the last moment, she turned, and instead of hitting her saber's hilt, Anakin's lightsaber pierced her chest. The yellow eyes widened in shock before she crumbled. No! his mind screamed, Ahsoka, no! He caught her lifeless body, hugging her tightly as tears streamed down his cheeks, Ahsoka…

- END DREAM -

He woke up with a start, Ahsoka's name still on his lips, tears blurring his vision. He shot a quick look at his wife, relaxing when he saw his nightmare hadn't woken her up. Passing a hand over his face, he stood up, quietly exiting their bedroom and making his way to Padmé's sitting room.

In the bed, Padmé's eyes opened as she felt him leave the bed, tears shimmering in them as his broken whisper echoed in her ears, 'Ahsoka…'

She didn't join him, knowing she would be of no comfort and hating it. She knew he wanted to be alone when he left their bedroom, just as she knew she would have turned over and offered whatever comfort she could had he stayed next to her in the bed.

He stared at Coruscent from the window, watching the constant flow of traffic, even in the dead of the night. Holding his hands in front of him, he was mildly surprised to see them trembling. The dream had been too real, and its signification too heavy. For, after all, would it have changed anything had he be the one trusting his lightsaber in her chest? He was the one the Son wanted, he was the one they wanted to test… And more than that, he was the one responsible for her…

He shuddered, recalling the feeling of his saber cutting flesh, breaking bones. He had killed enough living beings with it to know exactly how it felt, the smell of instant burning flesh, the sound of blood on the hissing blade…

And her lifeless, cooling body as he pressed her against his chest, as he begged her to open her eyes. That hadn't been a nightmare, he could vividly recall her small body as he gripped her on Mortis, how she had seemed so small and young in his arms, how empty her body had felt, she who was always burning with energy, always moving. She had been so still…

Why, Ahsoka? Why did you have to leave?

But no one answered his silent plea.

~Anakin ~

On his 'forced break', Anakin was using the time to finally bring a few repairs and upgrading to the Twilight. They had been on the move for so long, jumping from one mission to another than the Twilight was way overdue a good scrubbing and a few real repairs. Just patching her up for the next mission wasn't enough.

Shooting down his idea of a new bright paint job, - it would made it far too visible for the Separatist, - he frowned at one wire showing signs of age. He better replaced it before it chose to let them down in the middle of a mission, "Hey, give me the spanner, Sni…" He cut himself abruptly, looking to his side. Where his Padawan was shining by her absence. For a moment he froze, finding it difficult to breathe as once more, her death slammed into him.

She had always been there, near him, finding a common hobby in repairing the ships, so eager to learn anything he could teach her.

The activity had felt so normal, that, for one second, it was as if Mortis had never happened, as if she was still there, next to him. Until the harsh reality crashed on him, reminding him coldly there was no one there, no young Padawan watching him with bright eyes, no smiling Togruta handing him the tool he needed before he could even ask for it.

Angrily, he slammed his fist in the aircraft. All thoughts of upgrading the Twilight flew from his mind. What was the point, if she wasn't there to comment on it, anyway? Taking a deep breath, he nonetheless leaned back on the weakened wire, changing it efficiently then moving on another repairs. But the small joy he had felt at setting the Twilight up to notch was gone.