Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The Resolute was near-silent at night.

It always had been quiet. But, now,  most of the background noise had dipped out. The medics were hard at work removing chips from his brother’s heads, and that meant cutting down on the number of vode that they had on night patrol. If Rex paid a visit to the medbay, it probably would be a hub of activity, but the halls were empty. Nobody was there.

Nobody except for Rex.

Stress always made it harder for him to drift off, and he didn’t think that he’d ever been more on edge. Not all the times that he’d nearly lost his life, not even when he’d almost lost Ahsoka- no, this was the worst.

…Speaking of Ahsoka.

Where was she?

Ahsoka didn’t sleep. At all, ever. And it was unlikely that she was anywhere near the medbay- but she wasn’t in the halls, she wasn’t in the rec room, she wasn’t in the training room, she wasn’t in the mess…

It took Rex an embarrassingly long time to consider her quarters.

Ahsoka didn’t spend much time in them. There wasn’t much point. Her Situation meant that their function was reduced down to a place to brush her teeth and change the Jetii robes that she wore under her armor. She complained that it was too far from the hangar and training room to be practical, so Rex wasn’t even certain of the last time that she’d used the attached ‘fresher’s sonic. She preferred the communal ‘freshers that were originally intended to be used by natborn officers- the ones where the sonics had stalls and curtains for privacy.

But, unless she’d fallen in the engine or they’d accidentally left her behind during their last engagement- both unlikely- he… Had no idea where else she could be.

Since Rex had commandeered the Resolute ’s General’s quarters, Ahsoka’s were right next to his. It meant that- if he was wrong- he could try lying down and staring at the ceiling again.

It probably wouldn’t work, and he’d end up staying awake the whole night after all, but- eh. Who cared?

Without much hesitation, he knocked on the door.

There was no response. Rex felt disappointment sink in and tried to crush the worry that boiled beneath the surface. It beat a steady drum of somethingswrongsomethingswrong- but that was impossible. Ahsoka was alright, permanently. Nothing could hurt Ahsoka.

…Even if… And that really was so unlike her, so maybe-

“Come in.” The words were strained and watered down from being filtered through the door.

Rex knew his alverd’ika well, and even then Ahsoka was a bit of an emotional open book. Hardly a proper Jedi at all. He could hear the way that her words were soaked with hesitation.

The door opened silently- really? Had Fritz seriously tinkered with this one, too? What was the point, she was never here- but she was. Still in full kit, still with her lightsabers clipped to her belt. She seemed to be doing the opposite of resting- sitting on the edge of her bunk with her gloved fingers clutching her poleyns.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, white brows drawn tight with concern.

“...You weren’t answering your comm.”

“Oh-” Ahsoka hurried to stand up. The blankets of her bunk were barely even rumpled, but there was a layer of disturbed dust where she had been sitting. Gross. “What do you need? Is it-”

“I don’t-” Rex stepped closer and clasped an arm around her elbow, pushing her back into a sitting position. She gave him a reluctant, wide-eyed look. It made her look fourteen again- the same sort of glance she’d give him in a trench in the first year of the war- and some part of his heart ached for an easier, quieter time- when his greatest worries were running the 501st, not running the coverup for a conspiracy.

Then again- back then, he’d had to worry about Ahsoka dying, too.

“No. I don’t need your help with anything. If it was important, I would’ve used the emergency line.” Rex bit the inside of his cheek. “I was… Just a bit worried.”

“Well- no need to be worried!” She grinned, very insincerely. “Everything’s fine over here.”

“Ahsoka.”

The silence stretched long and ugly. Rex took a seat opposite of her, spinning around the chair abandoned in front of an empty desk. It was dusty too, and Rex suppressed a grimace.

The quarters of a Padawan-Commander were smaller than those of a General. Significantly. Their knees nearly brushed.

Rex had been here before, hadn’t he? Back when he’d just found out about Ahsoka’s situation, down in the guts of the Resolute.

“...You’ve been tense these last few days.” He said, finally. Chipping through the quiet. “Ever since Tup. Is anything…?”

“I already told you.” Her response was quick, too quick. “I’m not afraid of you and the others, I never could be.”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

Ahsoka’s mouth opened and closed mutely for several seconds, like a fish out of water, gasping in the air that killed it. Or- no, actually. That analogy made absolutely no sense.

Rex supposed that he couldn’t get the image of bloody feathers- wings arched high and stretched massive- out of his head.

She glanced away, becoming fixed on an empty, probably-also-dusty corner. Her words were quiet- barely above a whisper. “I think I might be a bad person, Rex.”

“Kid-”

“I hurt people. All the time.” She spoke quickly, the words spilling out like water. “I keep hurting people and I can’t stop myself. I don’t even realize what I’ve done until it’s over, and sometimes I don’t even feel bad about it. I just keep doing it. D’Nar and pirates and-”

“Ahsoka.” Rex cut her off, grabbing hold of her wrists and pulling her hands away from her knees before she could hurt herself. She’d done that before- her strength outpaced her durability, and even if she could heal Rex still didn’t like it. “Ahsoka, you’re fine.”

“You don’t know that.” There was a frantic, feral edge to her voice. The ghost of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, showing a flash of her teeth. “You can’t know that. I-”

“Look at me.”

She put up a brief fight, but eventually gave in. There was fear in her pale, shining eyes- genuine, bleeding terror. Fear of herself. His heart ached.

“You saved Tup.” He reminded her. “He would’ve died without you, and we never would’ve known about the chips. You save my brothers every day- and you wouldn’t be able to if you weren’t what you are.”

“You should be afraid of me.” There was a tremble in the undercurrent of her words. “You should hate me.”

He let go of one of her wrists and lifted it to cradle the back of her head, bringing her in to tap their foreheads together. Ahsoka was so small. He kept forgetting that. With the wings and the teeth and teeth and the blood- it was so easy to forget. But she was small. And she was so young.

“Vod’ika.” The word felt right on his tongue- even if he’d never used it for her before. At some point, Ahsoka had neatly crossed the line from Jetii into family- and he didn’t particularly care about when that was. It felt like she was always supposed to be here. “There’s nothing that you could do that would ever make me stop loving you.”

For a long time- for what felt like an eternity- he could’ve heard a pin drop on the catwalk. There was only the distant sound of the bubbling, fizzing metal. It seemed that nobody even dared to breathe.

Then-

“Well.” The Mand’alor walked up to the railing, carefully side-stepping Dooku’s blood, and peered down. “That could have gone better.”

Whatever it was that had seized them and frozen them to their spots broke. At once, there was a flurry of movement. Jetiise and vode alike scrambled backwards, desperate to get away. It was an animal, mad dash. Fueled by fear and terror and horror and disgust. Emotions that Rex could not summon up in reference to Ahsoka.

Only four people remained in place: The Mand’alor- still watching the metal sea- Jinn- stock-still and white as a sheet- himself, and the owner of the blaster aimed at his face.

“You knew.” Fox was having a fucking conniption. Rex couldn’t believe his eyes. Where had his even-tempered, flat, well-mannered vod gone? What had happened to the Commander of the Guard? “You fucking knew- you kriffing- Sith-spat bastard.”

“What.” It was impossible to keep the dubious tone out of his voice.

Fox seemed ready to explode into pieces, like a speeder pushed to the brink and breaking apart. He was trembling, really, genuinely shaking. A moment passed, and he ripped off his helmet with the hand that wasn’t being used to hold a blaster to threaten Rex. It hit the ground, callously discarded, with a clatter.

His face was beaded with sweat as he let out a near-hysterical- alright, no, Fox was well beyond ‘near’ at this point- laugh. “I’m not insane! There was something- I always knew there was something wrong with her.”

“Don’t say that.” Rex snapped.

“Don’t-” Fox’s face was uncharacteristically expressive, cycling through emotions. “How about ‘don’t let a monster into our family’, Rex! Are you out of your damn mind? You knew! The armor and- you knew!”

“Don’t call Ahsoka a monster. She’s not. ” Rex stepped closer, shoving Fox in the chest. He stumbled back- further than Rex was expecting. “What’s gotten into you?”

“What’s gotten into me?” His voice cracked. “You’ve lost it. I’m not- I’m not alone in thinking this, right?”

Fox had shouted the last bit over his shoulder, at the gathered vode and Jetiise. Nobody stepped forwards- but whether that was because of what had just happened or the madman with a blaster remained to be seen.

Jinn, at the very least, had switched from staring at the spot where Ahsoka had killed Dooku to staring at them. The Mand’alor hadn’t moved at all.

Having selected a target, Rex pointed. “Jinn knew.”

All eyes snapped to him, and Jinn gritted out a weak: “I found out that she was, um, not… Normal. Only a bit ago. And I didn’t know- about the, uh. Blood. Or murder.”

“How long did you know, Rex?” Fox bared his teeth.

“About three years.”

The words were matter-of-fact, because what else could he say? This was Rex’s idea of normal. Ahsoka’s Situation was complicated, but she was still Ahsoka. He didn’t let that change what he thought of her. He was a good brother.

Fox, on the other hand? Well. Rex wouldn’t call threatening your sibling with deadly force to be appropriate.

“Three-” Fox made some noise halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Oh, fuck. That cliff. The scavengers. I should have known.”

“If it helps.” Rex offered. “I had no idea that she’d gut him.”

“Well.” One other trooper hadn’t been involved in the mad dash backwards- but he’d already been near the back of the crowd. Standing his ground meant that he was now at the front. “I’m not that surprised, personally.”

“Fives, what?” Rex turned to face him. “What do you mean you’re not surprised? Ahsoka’s always had a temper, but this is a bit…”

Fox’s eyes jumped between Rex and Fives, like he couldn’t decide who he wanted to turn the blaster on.

“Oh, sorry.” Fives shrugged. Rex thought that maybe now wasn’t a good time for his tendency towards nonchalance. “I thought she already told you about Se.”

“What?” Jinn’s voice cracked in, unexpectedly. “She couldn’t have- you said it was probably the Separatists!”

“That’s only because you told me you authorized her to be there!” Shaak Ti’s voice was strained. “And the Chancellor assured me that a Jedi wouldn’t be capable of-”

Fox made a noise of strangled agony. “I should kill you.” He was trembling even worse, now. So much for a lifetime of training. If he tried to shoot, he’d probably miss- even at point-blank range. He briefly turned the blaster to Fives, before going back to Rex. “I should kill both of you.”

“You won’t.” Rex wasn’t worried. “You can’t. I know you, Fox.”

“I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did.” Fox sounded wracked with grief. His hand stilled, finger settling over the trigger. “Maybe you don’t know me anymore, either?”

There was a moment where-

He’d do it. He really would, wouldn’t he?

“Let’s avoid any more bloodshed today.” A startlingly strong, jarringly cold glove gripped him on the shoulder.

He hadn’t noticed the Mand’alor moving. This close to her, he could hear something grinding in her armor. Strained breathing. It didn’t sound healthy.

Fox glanced up, just a bit, and- in an instant- his resolve broke. His eyes widened, his pupils constricted. He scrambled backwards, nearly tripped over his own discarded helmet, and took only a moment to scoop it up before he darted to the safety of the crowd. Conspicuously- as far away from Fives as he could get.

“We should go, Captain.” The Mand’alor intoned. “It may be prudent to take your ori’ramikad with us.”

Rex knew that she was right.

He recalled that offer from years ago- that honey-sweet promise of safety for his brothers.

With her response to Ahsoka surviving a fatal wound then killing Dooku in turn- she must’ve been able to tell.

He could still remember the way that she’d stared at Ahsoka, before intervening in the escalating argument between Jinn and the Mandalorian General. She’d known since the moment that she’d laid eyes on her, hadn’t she? She’d known before Rex had.

Would she still have offered them shelter and protection if it wasn’t for Ahsoka’s Situation? Would she have blasted them off the surface of Mandalore, for daring to trespass?

Rex didn’t bother questioning how she knew. That much was obvious.

Rex would never fear Ahsoka, never- but the Jetiise did. And now they watched the Mand’alor with wary eyes, not daring to interfere after what had happened to Dooku.

They saw a former Master of the Order turned deadly Sith Lord be put down like a rabid beast. They knew better than to pick a fight- Rex didn’t know if the Mand’alor couldn’t hide herself the way Ahsoka could, or if she was broadcasting something to them- he supposed it didn’t really matter.

Fives drifted to Rex’s side. Echo joined him only a moment after. Other 501st troopers- Jesse, Vaughn, Hardcase, everyone who’d come to the observatory- broke from the crowd, eventually.

Vode from other battalions shuffled their feet, tilting their helmeted heads in uncertainty- but nobody else stepped forwards. Cody wouldn’t meet his eyes, but he wouldn’t look at anyone else either. Ponds and Bly and Wolffe stuck with their Generals, more firmly than anyone else- puffed up like massiffs backed into a corner.

Fox was still shaking with unrestrained anger and fear, but as Rex watched, Wolffe’s General- he’d been important to Ahsoka, once, but Rex couldn’t remember his name, now- set a clawed hand on his shoulder, and Fox quieted under the touch. A silent, unspoken mirror between them and Rex and the Mand’alor.

“Yes.” He turned his head away, sparing one last glance for the pool of blood. For the edge. “We should.”

The Mand’alor kept no guards, not in the entirety of her personal, private wing on her ship. It must have been all-but deserted, most of the time, because there were no traces of any previous occupants in the quarters that she’d offered to the displaced 501st battalion.

It was a good thing that they’d always numbered so few. It was cramped as-is.

Rex, habitually, could not sleep.

Unfortunately, he was alone among his brothers- but he was not alone in the wing.

She did not remove her helmet, not even within the comfort of her ship.

The Mand’alor stared out of the viewport that ran the length of the hall. Like most of the officers’ spaces that he’d seen, they had a nice view of hyperspace. These were alone, however, in the fact that there were no such glimpses into the quarters themselves.

“Sir.” Rex greeted, wary.

She didn’t respond. The only sound in the hall was the soft, ragged noise of her breath. He couldn’t even hear his vode. The sound-proofing must have been truly expensive, here.

Well. He could tell when he wasn’t wanted. And he really didn’t like the company of galactic leaders that much. He wasn’t Fox.

He turned to leave- but only then did she speak up.

“I knew that Dooku was going to die today.” The Mand’alor’s strange diction had a way of echoing in the silent halls. “I knew that the Commander was going to kill him.”

“What?” 

“An old seer I knew a long time ago.” She paused. “Watch the stars with me?”

And- well.

Rex didn’t like galactic leaders much, but he disliked upsetting them far more.

The Mand’alor was tall, but he found it hard to gauge. Was she shorter than him? Taller? By how much? Were they the same height?

“I did not know that it would happen like that, though.” The Mand’alor added, after several seconds of silence. “I knew that there would be blood, but I did not…”

“It could have gone better.” Rex echoed her earlier statement.

She nodded. The movement was mechanical, like a droid. “Yes.”

It took Rex a moment to realize that she was waiting for him to say something. “What’s it like… Knowing what’s going to happen?”

“I am not a seer myself.” The lights of hyperspace reflected on the visor of the Mand’alor’s helmet. “He was not able to tell me much. I knew that there would be a war. I knew that it would bring me Another. I knew that she would kill the last true Sith. Now… I am uncertain of what happens next.”

“Uncertain?”

“This is the last that he was able to tell me.” No- Rex wasn’t losing his mind. He could hear something whirring, grinding, clicking in her chest. “I have operated with the knowledge of what would come, eventually. Now, the galaxy is unclear.”

“Oh.”

There was a pause before she spoke again. “You have a question for me, Captain.”

“I’m- I do?”

“Yes.” Her head swiveled. “I can tell. You have permission to speak freely.”

“What are you?”

The question had sat at the back of his tongue like a thing with barbs- like a bundle of thorns. He hadn’t quite realized what he was going to say until he’d said it. And then-

Oh shit. Fox is going to kill me if I piss her off.

Then-

Yeah- Fox had tried to kill him already. He’d. Forgotten.

She huffed with amusement, though- no sign of rage. It was a strange sound. “I am something well-acquainted with the inability to die.”

During the war, Rex had avoided the Senate Dome like the plague.

Now, it was… Very, very quiet.

He didn’t need to be a Togruta to smell the blood in the halls, for all that it had been cleaned.

He knew that some Senators still lived, technically- Mon Mothma had led an opposition to the terms of demilitarization, and she and her supporters had refused to attend further discussions on how to carry out the murders in protest. That had spared them. They hadn’t been there for the massacre.

It wasn’t like they still had any power, though- the Senate technically still existed, all nine-hundred-and-four of them. But it would take an idiot to pretend that they could go against Imperial policy. They only existed at all because the Imperial Family had little interest in monotonous bureaucracy- the Senate could argue about trade route legislation all they liked.

It was empty now, though. After hours.

Rex couldn’t be sure where the Mand’alor had gone. For someone who seemed to be suffering from some kind of serious chronic condition, she sure was damn quiet. One moment, she’d been right next to him. Then, he’d looked away to scan the windows- remembering the desperate fight for Coruscant, the last time he’d fought at Ahsoka’s side, one of the last times he’d seen Fox- and then he’d turned back and she was gone.

She must have done it on purpose, because when he met with Ahsoka, they were alone.

Ahsoka looked like shit.

She’d always been all edges and teeth and claws- making herself rough and sharp so that nothing could hurt her. Now- standing there without her armor, she looked skinned.

He recognized those clothes, almost.

He’d seen them before.

In his dreams of empty hallways and blood- he’d worn something a lot like that. There were differences, though- his collar had been shorter, his cuffs less stiff- both unpinned, while Ahsoka’s were. The shoulders less structured.

Altogether, his had been less formal.

And, well- Rex was no seer- nothing like the Mand’alor’s vaguely-mentioned friend. He was about as Force-Sensitive as the average rock, after all- but those dreams had always only ever come when Ahsoka was unconscious. They were more her’s than his.

Still. It gave a sense that this was inevitable.

They never could have had a happy, quiet life with govaths and sunshine and rainbows.

And yet-

They were alive, weren’t they? He ought to be grateful for that, at least.

“Rex?” Ahsoka’s voice cracked.

“Hi.”

She hesitated a pace away, leather-gloved hand extended. “How are you here?”

“The Mand’alor gave me a ride.”

“Why are you here?” There was an undercurrent of distrust and fear and pain in those eyes- and Rex never wanted her to feel that way, that’s why he was here, after all- he just hoped that it would be enough.

“You.”

She took an uncertain step forwards, then lunged- closing the gap. She felt so tiny without her armor- like a little wisp of nothing. Her claws dug into his back and it didn’t hurt, it didn’t.

“I missed you.” Her voice was strangled- whether by tears or the bloody feathers that she’d been coughing into a handkerchief when he’d walked in, he couldn’t tell. His shoulder felt damp anyway.

“I missed you, too.” He wrapped her in his arms, as tight as he could. He could hear her bones creak under the pressure. He wasn’t always that strong.

How hadn’t he noticed? Had it been that slow, that subtle? He hadn’t wanted to believe Ventress what she’d told him, all glittering, smug teeth and the proud office of Inquisitor - but he found it hard to deny.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Her voice was a whisper. It must’ve been both- he could smell salt and metal, both. He’d need to clean his armor before he put it away. He probably wouldn’t wear it for much longer.

“Where you go, I go.” His tongue stuck to his teeth, mouth too dry. “Commander.”

She drew back a bit, but didn’t let go. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, her mouth with blood.

Ahsoka, Ahsoka, Ahsoka.

To love his sister was no arduous task- the burden of his affection was as light as a feather. He’d follow her through all the Sith Hells. It didn’t matter what happened. It didn’t matter what the galaxy threw at them.

Her legs gave out, and Rex kept her from collapsing to the floor- instead lowering them both down. They sank to their knees in what was once the office of the Vice Chair- and probably would be again, soon, the Jetiise had been quick to retreat from their Temple when the Empire took hold. And Skywalker had made no secret of envying their home.

He knew that she’d hate it. He hoped that, after a little while, Skywalker would trust Ahsoka enough for her to operate further away.

Ket-9 sat empty after the remaining occupants had either come looking for the Mand’alor or disappeared into exile with the Jetiise. Maybe they could go home?

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Rex.” He didn’t close his eyes to the bending, the snapping- the breaking. To bones torn through skin and blood dripping onto the stonework, onto him. He didn’t flinch away from wings wrapped around him.

“I know you won’t.” She never had. She never had- Ahsoka never let anything happen to any of them. That was her nature. Light and Dark, love and hate- in equal parts.

He rocked forwards, knocking their foreheads together in Keldabe- and wished, privately, to himself, that the Dark had given her some selfishness, as well.