Anakin turns over, blankets falling off his shoulders. I blink my eyes open sleepily, moaning and stretching, then returning my gaze to him. His hands are pressed underneath his head, smiling softly. He looks so...peaceful. In ways he doesn't on the frontlines. In battle, or in training he's determined, and focused. I've never seen him so calm.

I grin. I wish he was like this all the time.

My eyes catch something. On his arm. I sit up, looking at it closer. It looks like he's wearing a striped, long sleeved shirt. Dozens of lines stretch across his arm, and in the dark I can't tell what they are. I stand, my blanket clutched to my chest, walking towards him.

I run the tip of my finger over them, suddenly telling from their crimson colorings what they are. Cuts.

I pull my hand away. "What the fuck?" I whisper. I stare at him, pulling down the blanket and gently turning him over onto his back. "How…?

His stomach is cut too. I grab his other arm, staring. Same thing

My mouth opens to call in Obi-Wan but something stops me.

"Master." I say through gritted teeth, not wanting to wake anyone else up. "Master?"

He moves, groans and cracks open his eyes. "Mm?"

I lay my hand on his bare chest and he smiles. "Where did you get these scars?"

His smile fades. "What cuts?"

"I said scars-" I start.

"From a battle probably."

"Probably? How can you not know about these?" I grab his arm, but he shoves me away. "Just let me sleep, Ahsoka."

"You were fine five seconds ago." I complain, then point at his stomach. "That's recent." I notice bubling out from the dried blood he hasn't tended to, fresh blood that streams down his torso. Quickly I take off the straps of my belt, taking off my lightsabers and supply stick container. He lets me wrap it around his waist, fastening as tightly as I can to stop the blood flow. My heart pumps in my chest.

'C'mon. Master. Let's get you to the medbay.." I start, willing him to agree.

"I'm fine."

"No you're not!" Sticking my finger underneath the hem of a diamond cutout on my legging, I start ripping of a piece of them.

Anakin looks at my leg. "Ahsoka, you dont have to do that. I'm okay. I've dealt with worse." He holds up his robotic arm.

I don't stop. I grab my water bottle from my bunk, soaking the piece of my pants with cool water and rubbing down the dozens of cuts on his arms.

"Please, let them help you." I beg him, finishing up with cleaning his cuts.

"I'm fine." He repeats for the third time.

"No, yo-"

He turns his back on me. "Go away, Ahsoka." He mutters, pulling the blankets over his shoulders again.

I look at him, tears welling in my eyes. Did someone do this to him? Why wouldn't he tell me?

It can't be from a battle, I think as I fall back onto my bunk, sticking the piece of cloth and water bottle underneath the bed. He has long sleeves, and they only way that could've happened to him is with a knife, I'm sure of it.

I stare at the bunk above me. It's Obi-Wan's, I think. Does he know? He's most likely closer to Anakin than me, maybe Anakin would tell him first?

I groan in frustration, then close my eyes and try to get some sleep.