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There wasn’t a much sadder sight than the one before him. Blue and white montrals quivering, eyes wide and wet, orange skin pallid, Commander Ashoka Tano looked so much the tired youngling she was and nothing like the Commander she was supposed to be. She sat curled up at the edge of her bunk, eye gazing down sightlessly at the metal floor. Her twin lightsabers were crushed against her stomach like they were a child’s comfort toy.
(She needs this. They need this. The clones feel the itch, the urge, the compulsion, to care for their Jedi. She needs their help and that’s what clones are for. They exist to support the Jedi. They’ll do it when the war is over too; their Jedi may protest but they’ll be damned if they let their Jedi go.)
“Commander,” Captain Rex called gently, like one would when calming small children or injured animals, “Ashoka..”
Her blue eyes moved from the smooth metal floor to him. He smiles tenderly, “Come along Vod’e, it’s your turn to pick the movie”
(Movie night, one of the few ways that brings Ahsoka back from wherever she goes during these bad days. The simple comfort of companions helps her more than any Jedi mediation.)
Ashoka doesn’t move, just continues to turn her sad unseeing gaze towards him. The blonde sighs, picks up the rumpled blanket hanging on the edge of the cot and places it around her shoulders. She looks smaller than before, there’s something about putting a blanket on something that makes them look impossibly young. It doesn’t help that she drops her lightsabers to grip the blanket tighter around herself.
Holding back a sigh, a curse at the damn Republic for putting her in this position, another curse at the damn Seppies, Rex cajoles Ahsoka into the hallway. His arm rests across her small shoulders as he guides her down the empty hallways of the Resolute.
(He’s so happy they’re empty. No one to try to talk to the Commander, no Jedi to abruptly remind her that breaking down like this isn’t the Jedi way. Even if they all do it in little ways.)
The doors to the rec room open automatically when they get close, revealing the chatting, sleep-wear dressed troopers of the 501st. They don’t acknowledge Ahsoka as she walks in, besides for Fives scooting over to make room between him and Echo. Wordlessly, she plops down in the offered seat, scanning the room for potential threats and escapes.
(They can’t have weapons when they do this. Their Commander gets skittish if she sees them so they leave them in the cafeteria across the hall. It’s uncomfortable, not having the familiar weight of a blaster at their sides, but it’s better than watching their Jedi hurt.)
A look passes between all the brothers, a silent agreement on who should make first contact. Kix pulls open the cabinet between the holo, taking out an excess number of holomovies for Ahsoka to choose from.
“Which one?” Kix asks. Ahsoka relents her vice grip on the blanket to point to one on the far right. With a smile that looks more than a little forced, the medic slips in the small disc.
(They all knew she would choose this one. It’s her favorite. Stupid plot, lewd jokes, hot actors and actresses. Definitely not appropriate for a Jedi her age, but they don’t particularly care about that.)
Someone turns the lights out, making the only light the blue glow from the holo. A hush falls over the 501st as the movie begins to play.
(All the shinies and Ahsoka watch with rapt attention. The older ones know the movie by heart and instead look towards the younger members. Watching, making sure they’re safe)
Fifteen minutes in, Ahsoka loosens her hold on the blanket. Forty-five minutes in, she scoots closer to Echo. An hour and fifteen minutes in, she’s dozing lightly against his shoulder, an arm hugging her close. By the end of the movie, she’s out for the night and so are most of the shinies
(Some of the older ones fall asleep too, feeling safe for the first time in days, surrounded by their brothers in a defendable room. Those that do leave are the ones that have to, they have the first shift in the morning and falling asleep now means waking the others in the morning.)
Captain Rex, from his position in the back, watches the whole thing. He stands slumped against the wall for the first half. He sits for the second half. He watches Ahsoka relax, the new trooper Eta calm down after his first mission in the field. Fives loses the maniac grin he’s adopted from Skywalker. Kix stops scans everyone for hidden injuries and his grip on the medkit isn’t as tight. His own nerves settle; his men are safe.
(He knows they aren’t safe, that some of them won’t be here next time. He can pretend though. He can pretend that they’re on Kamino, sneaking around to play. He can pretend that the only thing they have to worry about is training, not battle droids and convoluted Seperatists plans.)
They’ll do this again and again. They’ll do this till the war ends. They’ll do it to their precious Jedi Commander sane. It’s what clones do, keep their Jedi safe, as healthy as they can be, and alive.
They’ll never hurt their Jedi.