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There was a time Ahsoka smiled with her whole face.
Not anymore.
Now, she just watched the world pass by like it was a vid screen—something happening to someone else. She still fought, still trained, still wore the robes. But it wasn’t her inside them anymore.
She didn’t flinch at explosions. Didn’t blink when men stared too long. Didn’t speak unless she had to.
She slipped out of the Temple at night because she could, not because she wanted anything.
There wasn’t anything she wanted anymore.
~~~~
Somewhere between the grime and glitter, she stopped being Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Padawan.
Down here, no one asked questions.
Glitterstim made her limbs float. Bota made her heart race. Tihec liquor numbed her thoughts. She started chasing the high that came with *not caring*. Some nights she was in a haze of dancefloors and foreign hands on her hips. Other nights she rode stolen speeders through midnight traffic with boys who had criminal records longer than their attention spans.
She was reckless. Beautiful. Burned-out.
She once kissed a Mirialan boy in a turbo-lift while hiding a stolen deathstick cartridge under her sleeve. Another night, she let a Twi’lek put his hand on her thigh in a smoky back room—just for the thrill of watching him flinch when her saber ignited between his legs.
“Too close,” she whispered. “Try that again and you lose a lekku.”
She still had standards. Barely.
~~~~
Back at the Temple, Anakin didn’t notice right away.
Or maybe he did, but didn’t want to believe it.
He tried to tell himself it was just adolescence.
But the way Rex looked at her—tight-lipped, always watching—made him uneasy.
“You don’t trust her?” Anakin asked once.
“I trust her,” Rex replied. “I just think she’s been running on empty a long time.”
~~~~
He followed her.
He told himself it was for her safety.
That he was her master.
Her brother. Her protector.
But deep down, he knew—he couldn’t stand the idea of her slipping away while he looked the other way.
He found her on a rooftop above a nightclub, legs swinging over the edge, a bottle in her hand.
“You’re going to fall,” he said quietly.
She didn’t look at him. “I don’t really care if I do.”
Those words knocked the air from his chest.
Not because she meant them like a threat.
But because she meant them like a fact.
He grabbed her by the arms—not hard, not hurting, but firm.
“You don’t get to do this,” he growled. “You don’t get to give up. I’ve seen too many people fall, Ahsoka. I’m not watching it happen to you.”
Her expression didn’t change.
“That’s not your choice.”
~~~~
He followed her again the next night.
He didn’t plan to. Just… saw her duck through a back exit and didn’t like the way her shoulders were hunched. So he kept his distance.
She moved through the lower levels like she’d been born there.
No hesitation. No fear.
Hood up. Heels clicking.
She didn’t even glance at the creeps who catcalled her in passing.
Anakin followed her all the way to a rundown club on Level 75. She didn’t pause.
The bouncer let her in without a word.
Smoke clung to the ceiling like fog. Thudding music bounced off rusted walls. Colored lights turned sweat into glitter on everyone’s skin.
Ahsoka was sitting on the edge of a busted couch, legs across Zaid’s lap, drink in hand. There were three boys—older, human, one Nikto. All laughing, passing something around in a glass pipe.
Zaid kissed her neck and whispered something. She laughed too loud. Her eyes were glassy.
One boy leaned in and said, “So, what’s it like being a Jedi and still sneaking out for fun?”
Zaid grinned. “She ain’t a Jedi tonight.”
Ahsoka just smiled, letting them think whatever they wanted.
Then—
The door exploded inward.
Anakin Skywalker stood in the smoke, breathing like a storm. His robes flared like wings, eyes lit with fury.
R2 zipped in behind him, whistling sharp, accusatory tones.
The music stopped, and Ahsoka froze.
“Ahsoka.” Anakin’s voice was low. Too low. “Get. Over. Here.”
Zaid stood up, smirking. “Relax, old man. We were just hanging out. She’s not a kid anymore.”
Anakin didn’t answer.
He lunged.
In one blink, he had Zaid slammed against the wall, his forearm across the boy’s throat. The other boys backed off, suddenly realizing the dangerous line they’d crossed.
“You think I won’t end you?” Anakin growled, his voice barely human. “You think because I’m a Jedi, I won’t break your spine for touching her?”
Zaid gagged. “She—came to me—!”
Anakin dropped him.
Hard.
He turned to Ahsoka.
She was pale, shaking.
“Is this what you want?” he said, voice cracking. “Is this living? Getting high with criminals? Letting gutterboys grope you while you drown yourself?”
Her lips parted, but no words came.
“I trusted you,” he said.
Tears burned down her cheeks. “I just wanted to feel something again.”
“You’re not supposed to feel it alone,” he shouted. “You’re not alone, Snips! You never were!”
R2 rolled forward, nudging her gently. She finally broke down.
Anakin took off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. He didn’t care who was watching.
“You’re coming home. Now.”
~~~~
After that, he snapped.
No more solo time. No more late nights. No missions without him. He cut her off from city access. Assigned troopers to shadow her.
She didn’t fight it.
Not outwardly.
She just grew quieter.
When Rex tried to speak to her, she smiled too wide. When Kix offered help, she said, “I’m not bleeding on the outside this time.”
Anakin didn’t know how to fix it.
So he held tighter.
And tighter.
Like maybe if he just kept her close enough, she’d go back to being twelve again.
Before he failed her.
Before she had to learn how to vanish.
~~~~
The next day, her schedule changed.
No more public missions. No more clubs. No more pretending.
She wasn’t better.
But she was heard now.
And Anakin?
He never let her walk anywhere alone again.
Not because he didn’t trust her.
But because he’d already lost parts of her.
He wasn’t losing another.