Elocinn

She had picked the corner table. Same one as last time.

It was dark, partially obscured by a wall. Her hood stayed up, elbows on the table, drink untouched in front of her.

First it had been juice. Then soda water, something to hold, something to look like she belonged here in the dingy bar. After the third hour though she’d ordered something stronger. 

He was supposed to be here by now.

That thought had come and gone, over and over. Time didn’t move in bars like this. The lights never changed, and the music never got better. Faces came and went but really it was all much of the same.

A fourth hour passed. Then a fifth.

She checked her comm again. There hadn’t been a message, not since the last one, six days ago. He’d confirmed the rendezvous, even signed off with the little smiley.

She blinked hard and finished the rest of her drink.

Six hours.

She caught the bartender watching her again, a rough-looking woman with a face like leather and sharp eyes. Must be a sight if even the bartender in an Outer Rim bar was looking at you with something resembling sympathy. That alone made Ahsoka stand. Her legs were a little unsteady.

She slipped out the door with her hood still up.  The streets were a blur of light and shouting and movement. Too many voices. Too much noise and too many people.  It was a spaceport town, always something going on. She moved on instinct more than anything else, feet carrying her toward the edge of town, further and further until the noise behind her faded.

There was one place out here that wasn’t awful. An old tree, gnarled and crooked with bark so pale it almost glowed in the dark. It looked like it had been standing there for a thousand years. Maybe it had somehow survived a whole city growing around it.

She tried to focus on the tree, not the walk that had led her to find it nearly a year ago.  Definitely not who she had been with.

Something had drawn her to it the first time she’d seen it.  Like there was something special about it, something familiar when she lay her hand on the smooth bark. She didn’t try to reach for the Force to confirm her suspicions.  That was too dangerous, but under her hand, she felt that little hum that was so close and familiar, it almost hurt.

It was another kind of ache, layered on the one she was trying to ignore.

He hadn’t come.

He had reasons.  She was sure of it.  It was probably nothing.  There were always missions gone long or issues with ships.

He could be undercover somewhere.  He could be anywhere.  Or…he could be dead, and that was just the reality of it wasn’t it?

The thought twisted hard.

Her throat tightened. She closed her eyes. Breathed in the dry air and tried to let go the emotion like she’d been taught but there was something persistent about this one, one that had a vice grip on her chest.

She thought of his hand against her back, the sound of his laugh, the warmth of his arms around her in some stolen room. The way they held on, when they could. The way they never said goodbye.

A sound broke the stillness, loud and sudden and she pivoted, reaching out of instinct for a weapon that wasn’t there at her belt.

A figure in a cloak was running toward her, breathless, a pack slung over one shoulder.  She watched as they drew closer, disbelief warring with relief.

“‘Soka—” he gasped, coming up short, words spilling out. “I tried to get word out, I swear. We were delayed—”

She was already moving.  She crashed into him, arms around his neck, and he caught her. She didn’t wait, didn’t think as her mouth found his, desperate to feel that he was very much alive and every terrible thought she had conjured up in six hours was a lie.

He kissed her back just as fiercely.

He leaned his forehead against hers, breath still catching. “I figured if you weren’t at the bar, you’d come here.”

“Waited 6 hours.”

He held her tighter, his nose brushing hers by way of apology.

Rex looked like hell.

Which, to be fair, was probably being generous. Mud crusted his armor, a smear of something green and unidentifiable streaked across his chestplate, and his hair was desheveled in a way that was hard to define given how short it was. He’d clearly been through something.

Ahsoka stared at the flickering holo, arms crossed and expression flat.

“You what ?”

“I said,” Rex repeated, rubbing a hand down his face, “We crashed. Shuttle took a hit in the storm. Could’ve been worse. Emergency landing in the middle of a kriffing swamp. Then we walked.”

“For two days? ”

“Yeah. Through a swamp. With Cody.” He made a vague, defeated gesture. “Which I don’t recommend. He’s even more insufferable in wet boots.”

She blinked. “And no one came looking for you?”

“Oh, no, apparently it’s normal now to lose contact with two commanders and just assume they’re fine. ” His tone was dry enough to crack. “I gave my entire humanitarian assessment smelling like I’d died out there.”

A beat.

“Once I get back, I’m never going to leave you again,” he swore. “I promise.”

Ahsoka’s mouth twitched, the last of her exasperation giving way to something softer. “Good. Because if you go dark like that again, I’ll come find you.”

He cracked a tired smile. “See, that’s what I was counting on.”

She huffed a laugh. “Seriously, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just tired. Wet. Might be growing moss.”

“Rex…”

He looked up again, gave her a smile. “I’m okay, Ahsoka. I really am.”

“…I miss you.”