Ahsoka Tano One-Shots

Some Days Are Worse

Heyo, human beings from outer space!

So... I might've done a thing.... Remember the whole unexpected encounter fics I've revisited lately? 

I maaayyyy have turned it into a nearly 20,000 word fic? Ooopps, my hand slipped?? 

And that's one reason I've been gone so long! I'm going to be publishing this here and on ao3 at some point after I finish editing everything up. 

But about this one, it was requested by quackquack830 and I had no idea what to title it. It's got depression in it, and since it's a little different for everyone, I wrote about how being down feels for me. 

Read on if you dare. 

Ahsoka didn't know what hit her, but it hit her hard and knocked her down before she knew what was happening. Maybe it was because she was sent on leave, which let everything catch up to her in an unceremonious crash over her head. All her thoughts, all the loss, and all the reality came the moment she let herself slow down and sleep for more than three hours at one time.

She woke up in the guest bed of Padmé's place on Naboo with a brewing sensation within her rib cage. She should get up, she knew it'd be the best for her, but she simply couldn't bring herself to do so. Ahsoka flicked her eyes up at the time and decided a little more sleep wouldn't hurt.

Only a minute passed after she shut her eyes but the time told her half an hour passed. Again she shut her eyes and they blinked open after another thirty minutes. This repeated until she couldn't sleep any more even when she closed her eyes.

Ahsoka scrunched her covers back and dragged herself up to adjust the blankets neatly over the mattress again. She dropped the pillow at the head of it and sighed. Any trace of energy and motivation vanished with a glance to the door and she flopped back down on the bed, curling up on her side with a heavy sigh.

For a long moment, Ahsoka lay there and let herself zone out, mentally investigating that brewing sensation between her ribs. She didn't know what it was– it could be nothing less than a stew of several different emotions bubbling together. Guilt and regret mostly, she decided, sprinkled with anger and frustration at only herself.

It was an unpleasant blend and she wished it would fizzle away, but it didn't. Ahsoka squeezed her eyes shut and smothered out a strangled, tiny squeal. She wished she could be free of the feeling, she wished she could do something to make it go away, and she wished more than anything that it was never there in the first place.

But it was there, taunting her from within, and she was prisoner to it and she couldn't make it go away. Not when she couldn't so much as bring herself to peel from the bed and face what lingered beyond the guest bedroom door.

Ahsoka rolled over so she faced away from the door and called her datapad over to her with the Force. She couldn't allow herself to do nothing, didn't want to mull over all the jumbled thoughts in her brain and the feeling between her ribs.

So lazily she flipped on the datapad. Ahsoka, summoning the Force again, dragged over a pillow to prop the datapad upright. This way she could see the screen without having to hold it up herself or strain her eyes.

She scrolled on the screen for a moment, occupying her crying mind with what she should do. Homework was just about the last thing in the galaxy she wanted to do (second to peeling herself up from the bed, of course) so she settled herself with reading.

Not the informational kind. The fun kind. The kind that Anakin never understood and questioned her about constantly in a sort of bewilderment because why the kriff would anyone read for fun? The kind that transported her into another world, another galaxy, another time, and another life that wasn't her own and could never be as troubled as her own because it was all planned out to end just how it needed to.