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Ahsoka was all over the place during a campaign.
She was like lightning the way she maneuvered around blaster bolts and stepped over debris and broken bodies. Her lightsabers would sometimes shake in her hands, not from incompetence or nerves, but from how much she resented sitting still when there were enemies to strike and people to save.
Nothing could stop her when she got like this, she knew. Not Anakin's exasperated amusement and worry, Rex's steady gaze and hand on her shoulder, or Kix's raised eyebrow concerns about tachycardia. Meditation only made Ahsoka more restless, as well, as the only thoughts she couldn't clear pertained to her mission.
Even now, after the battle and back on the Resolute, the togruta couldn't shake herself.
Her hands were fidgety as they ran along the seams of the corridors. Eyes pressed into her back and traveled up her neck, burning into the back of Ahsoka's head even though a quick scan behind her revealed no one walking nearby. The distant whir of the engines had her on edge, and conversations filtering through the vents from the mess hall made her shoulders rise with tension.
She had been on her way there. The smell of food other than ration bars (even though the Resolute was stocked with meals tasting equally terrible as the doughy plastic of rations) was deeply alluring to her growling stomach.
Her progress was slow, however, as something was dragging her down like weights shackled to her ankles. The pit in her stomach was apparently made of lead instead of a primal desire of hunger. Ahsoka felt a bit like one of Obi-Wan's plants, roots buried deep in its soil.
She doesn't know when she stopped walking altogether, but that was how Anakin found her: half leaned against the wall near his quarters, on the opposite side of the ship from the mess hall.
He's gentle as he lifts her onto his shoulder, and Ahsoka remembers sitting the same way with Plo Koon when he brought her to the Temple for the first time. She's changed a lot since then.
Suddenly, she blinks and Anakin is setting her down on his bed. She mourns the loss of his shoulder as her pillow. Blankets are haphazardly strewn over the mattress. One of the pillows is lying on the ground. It's messy and so Anakin that Ahsoka wants to cry.
She thinks she does a little as he covers her shaky form with the blankets.
Exhaustion radiates from her very core, splitting her mind as her limbs go numb and eyelids slip half closed. Ahsoka can't remember ever feeling this tired, or whenever the feeling even started. She woke up one day and suddenly it was her constant companion in war and class. She begs with every fiber of her being for it to go away, even as she knows that it is impossible to feel safe or well rested with the backdrop of war.
But here, with Anakin curling up beside her, maybe it'll be okay.
She looks past his head of curls and his startlingly blue eyes to where a splash of purple and brown muddy the carpet.
"What's that?" she tries to ask, though she can't quite move her mouth right.
He hears anyway. "Well, I was going to bring back some fauna for Obi-Wan—"
"Flora."
"Fauna, flora, they mean the same thing."
Ahsoka giggles at that. Maybe they're both too tired for any of this.
She looks again at the plant on the ground. Pink is blossoming from the purple leaves, vibrant and beautiful despite how it is on the floor. Beneath that, she glimpses loose roots pulled free from the soil and the broken shards of whatever pot it had been trapped in.
They'll be okay.