Oh give me my chance, and give me my wings;

NEW FIC: And I Will Never Grow So Old Again

2014-05-26T15:03:42Z

Title: And I Will Never Grow So Old Again
Author: patientalien
Rating: T
Summary: It's been ten years since the end of the Clone Wars, ten years since Order 66 and Operation Knightfall, ten years since Anakin Skywalker disappeared into exile. A new threat to the galaxy has emerged, and there is only one man who can stop it. The question is - will he come willingly?
Warnings: Character death, suicide, drug addiction, self-harm - my usual offerings.
Notes: Thanks to citizenjess for the quick beta and the title, and to estora for cheering me on. This was originally inspired by X-Men: Days of Future Past, but quickly took on a life of it's own. Title from "Sweet Thing" by Van Morrison.

In the ten years since the collapse of the Old Republic, the Jedi Order has been reborn. Not quite the same as the old Order, but the old members - those having survived Order 66 and Operation Knightfall - still hold Council in the highest spire of the Temple building in the very heart of the Republic.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is among them when the news is relayed, a frantic transmission from the very edge of Wild Space. A new threat to the new Republic, this time not from within, but from without. "And you're saying the Vong have intentions on waging war?" he asks, stroking a beard gone gray too early.

"That's what we intercepted," states Quinlan Vos. "And attempts to negotiate have been met with... Heavy resistance."

Obi-Wan frowns deeply. "Well, we still have some Clones fighting fit, the remnants of the droid army," he says, though the implications weigh heavy. "For defensive purposes." He doesn't want to start another war, he doesn't want to see the galaxy torn asunder twice in his lifetime.

Beside him, the sound of a clearing throat. "We need Skywalker," proclaims Mace Windu, prosthetic hand gleaming in the waning sunlight, scarred visage pulled into a perpetual scowl.

Obi-Wan blanches, feels like his heart will drop out of his chest. "Anakin?" he asks, voice rising an octave in his shock. "Master Windu, you know Anakin is..."

"A brilliant strategist," Windu cuts him off. "A peerless warrior, the most powerful among us. You know as well as I do, Obi-Wan, that he is the best chance we have of gaining the upper hand."

And that's how Obi-Wan Kenobi finds himself heading to Naboo, to Varykino, and memories he'd hoped would stay buried.

-----

He hasn't been to Varykino in over ten years, and only ever visited for a very brief time. He doesn't remember it being so... overgrown. Still, given the circumstances he supposes he understands. With growing apprehension, he approaches the manor, reaching out in the Force to a bond that hasn't existed in ten years, strengthening his resolve not to turn back. The Council had been adamant and if eleven of the Twelve were in agreement, even after everything that had happened, everything that had been done... Obi-Wan has stopped trying to understand the mysteries of the Force, the why of things. It has brought him some modicum of peace, but being here, pushing open the creaking main door, stepping into a darkened receiving room, fills him with emotions he can't possibly begin to name.

With his hand hovering near his lightsaber, Obi-Wan takes in the room. Dark, though it's daylight out - the windows have been covered. It's clean, free of dust or grime, but there's a distinctive smell of decay, and Obi-Wan is struck with a sudden inclination that he's not here to find a man, he's here to find a body. Still, he calls out, "Anakin?" His voice echoes; the house seems empty.

As he's about to venture further, the sound of whirring servo drivers makes him whirl around. To his surprise (or perhaps not, perhaps he should he expected it), C-3PO is shuffling towards him. At least, Obi-Wan thinks it's Padmé's fussy protocol 'droid; his normally gleaming gold coverings are worn and rusty, his joints tight, one photoreceptor gone dim. Obi-Wan again feels a pang of fear of what he might find - the Anakin he knew would never let a 'droid get into such a state of disrepair. Then again, the Anakin he knew has been gone for a very, very long time. "Is that... Oh! Oh dear, oh, Master Kenobi, you simply can't be here!" Threepio sputters, still somehow able to look flustered even without delineated facial expressions.

Obi-Wan tucks his arms into the sleeves of his robe, self-comforting, familiar. "I'm here to see Anakin," he says, and it's not a request. He'll get confirmation of what he's coming to suspect, or he will convince Anakin to come with him; there is no other option. "Would you tell him I'm here, please? And that I mean no harm." That's an important addition, meaning no harm. It wasn't the case the last time they saw each other.

Threepio mutters to himself for a moment, but after some deliberation seems to decide that Obi-Wan is not a threat, motioning with one stiff, worn arm for Obi-Wan to follow. The darkness permeates the inner depths of the house as well, and Obi-Wan now sees that the window shades have been bolted shut, keeping out any natural light. There's no artificial light either, not yet, not that he can see. Like the entrance hall, the house is spotlessly clean but with an under layer of rot, a neglected estate succumbing back to nature.

The first sign of life he sees is a dim light coming from a half-open doorway, then a strange rasping hiss, like a respirator or rebreather. "Anakin?" He steps through the door, trying to prepare himself for the worst. Instead he sees Anakin, slipping a breathing mask off his face, standing to face him. The room is obviously where Anakin is spending the bulk of his time; unlike the rest of the house, this room is lived-in; a Holonet receiver, clothing, light, some food remains. The breathing apparatus. And, scattered across a table, dozens of vials of bright cilona extract. "Oh, Anakin." He's not sure what's worse: what he was expecting, or what he sees before him.

"Out," Anakin growls, unsteady, voice hoarse from disuse. "Get out." He doesn't look much different than that horrible day; thinner, hair long and tangled, unwashed, track marks on his flesh arm and hand, what's exposed of his neck. Obi-Wan stays where he is, taking it in, making his plan. Even just a quick glance at this room has given him a wealth of knowledge about what the past ten years have been like for Anakin, locked away from the rest of the galaxy with no company but a rusty droid and his own guilt. "Are you kriffing DEAF?" Anakin snaps.

Obi-Wan sighs, tucking his arms back into his sleeves, a gesture he hopes Anakin recognizes as one of peace. "We need your help," he says. He's wary, unspeakably uncomfortable, standing here, seeing what has become of the man who was once his friend. Even if the evidence of suffering and pain wasn't all around him, his last enduring memory of this man is of staring him down on the fiery shores of Mustafar, looking into eyes that had lost all traces of humanity. Those eyes are back to Anakin, now, but Obi-Wan still has to restrain himself from putting his hand on his weapon.

Anakin stares at him, then frowns. "Help with what?" he asks, "because if it's murdering innocent people, you've come to the right place." He plucks a vial of the cilona extract from the table and twirls it around in his fingers. "If it's for anything else, I think you'll find I'm fairly useless."

Of course, the bond has gone dim for a reason, and the reason is all around them. "Why?" he asks. The thought of the most powerful Force user in living memory reduced to a shaking shell, regardless of what he'd done, makes Obi-Wan feel sick. Worse, the thought of his FRIEND like this... It's almost too much. Still, Anakin was dangerous, last time they'd seen one another. A well-practiced sleeper hold had been all that stood between him and certain death at the hands of the man he'd once called brother.

"Why do you think?" Anakin retorts, preparing the injection. "I'm not coming back with you," he adds, glancing up from behind a curtain of hair. "This is a trick, you're just going to execute me." He chuckles, humorlessly. "Took you long enough." He straightens his arm, pressing the syringe into the pale flesh, and then Obi-Wan sees the scar, wrist to elbow, crudely healed.

Obi-Wan rubs a hand over his beard, dull, heavy pain settling in his chest. Whoever Anakin may have once been, whoever he may have become, the person standing in front of him is someone else entirely. "If you were going to be tried for your crimes, we would have done so years ago," he points out. There had been talk of it, of course, and heated debate, but when Darth Vader did not reappear after the death of Sidious, it was decided to leave well enough alone. Obi-Wan is deeply regretting that now.

Shrugging, Anakin pulls the syringe from his arm, letting a trickle of blood sluice down the scar. Obi-Wan swallows bile. "Like I said," he murmurs, eyes dulling, starting to shake, "I'm not much help to anybody anymore." He smirks. "This stuff causes hallucinations, you know." Obi-Wan knows. "How do I know you're even really here?"

"I'm assuming if you ever did hallucinate me, it wouldn't be me asking for your help, would it?" Obi-Wan counters. He knows enough about how Anakin's mind works - how it used to work, anyway - to know that anything he does now is tainted by guilt and shame, resentment and the madness that comes from extended isolation.

A peculiar expression crosses Anakin's face. "You'd be surprised," he replies, leaning heavily against the table, blinking rapidly as the death sticks take hold. "You usually don't show up. She does. The children." Anakin's dead (murdered) wife, the twins lost with her. Obi-Wan isn't sure why he's surprised by that. "I'm not happy there, but at least I'm with her, and at least I'm getting..." He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a rush. "Once they're all gone, they won't protect me anymore and I can go. And for now it's... better like this. It's quiet."

He's losing coherence and Obi-Wan's heart aches. "Anakin, let me help YOU first," he suggests. There isn't much time; the Vong are fast-approaching but Anakin is right - he won't be able to do anything like this. Besides, despite the betrayal, despite the hard truth that Anakin made his own terrible choices and people died because of it, Obi-Wan still loves him. Has never stopped, even in his anger at him, so hard to work through over the years.

Anakin shakes his head, making his way back to the chair that seems to be where he spends the bulk of his time. "It'll be soon," he says, gesturing to the breathing mask. "Getting harder to heal. Getting harder to..." He trails off and stares into the middle distance, reliving a lifetime that never happened.

-----

Obi-Wan waits it out, and spends the next few hours of Anakin's isolating high meditating on what he's learned. The Force gives him no answers; it's as though the void around Anakin had seeped into the Force itself, leeching from the very universe. When Anakin comes back to himself, the Force is still muted - a decade of hard cilona usage means the Force-dampening quality won't diminish immediately after an individual dose wears off. Obi-Wan wonders how many years Anakin has purposely taken off his life; they're called death sticks for a reason. It occurs to him that the answer doesn't matter to Anakin the same way it matters to Obi-Wan; that Anakin has no concern for how long he might live yet beyond an obvious desire to not do so any longer than strictly necessary.

Anakin looks confused when he sees Obi-Wan still there, still watching him. "I thought I told you to get out," he says, but the vitriol is gone. In its place is a dull acceptance, a terrible apathy, and Obi-Wan wonders if there really is anything to be gained by him being here. Still, in his meditations he had resolved to help Anakin, even if it means Anakin doesn't come back with him, even if it means they must find a new champion.

"You did," Obi-Wan replies, rising from his position on the floor and making his way to Anakin's chair. He very slowly reaches out and brushes Anakin's hair back. The younger man flinches violently and Obi-Wan realizes that this must be the first human contact Anakin has had in ten years. "I'm not going to hurt you," he assures him. "I'm going to help you." He's afraid Anakin is beyond help, but he gave up on him once - he won't do it again.

Anakin snorts in wry amusement. "What makes you think I'm going to let you?" he challenges, but there is no strength behind the words. "But I suppose you aren't going to leave on your own."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "No," he agrees, moving so that he's sitting across from Anakin, hands braced against his knees. Anakin scowls half-heartedly, but makes no move to kick him out yet. "Let me tell you why, at least," he suggests. "And then you can decide." He's not really going to give Anakin the choice, but he needs Anakin to understand, so that maybe he can make the choice on his own instead.

As Obi-Wan speaks, telling him about the threat of the Vong, the brutality of the attacks, the timeline for invasion, Anakin seats the oxygen mask over his face again, sucking in deep, rasping breaths. When Obi-Wan is finally finished, Anakin remains silent but for the hiss of the respirator. After what seems like an eternity, he pushes the mask off and runs a hand through his tangled hair. "Fine," he says, softly. "But on one condition."

Obi-Wan nods; he had expected a bigger fight on it, hadn't expected to have agreement so quickly. "Whatever you request," he replies, holding out his hands in supplication.

"When it's all over," Anakin says, "you'll help me die."

Breath leaves him, and Obi-Wan very nearly gets up and walks away without another word. The impulse is there, trembling along his nerves, urging him to leave this place, this stranger, and never come back. "Why?" he rasps, but he doesn't need to ask. He doesn't need Anakin to explain himself because he has seen what Anakin has done, and what he has let himself become in the wake of it. Self-protection, misery, guilt.

"I don't want to hurt anyone else," Anakin replies, very softly. "I'm assuming your grand plan involves me having access to the Force again." He glances around, cagily, at the vials, effectively changing the subject - but also confirming his reasoning. "It's been a long time." Almost a lifetime. Almost half as long as he'd been able to bend it to his will. Obi-Wan has no illusions about how difficult it will be, but they don't have much time, and Anakin - according to the Council - is their last hope. He can only try and get Anakin to change his mind by the time it's all over.

He bows his head. "We start today."

-----

The first thing Obi-Wan does is clear the house of the cilona extract. He knows it will be putting Anakin into hard withdrawal almost immediately, but they don't have time to taper dosages and wait for the Force to come back in spurts. "When it happens, it will happen fast," he cautions. They're in the 'fresher - Padmé's, which Anakin has admitted he hasn't set foot in since arriving. Venturing into what he deems 'her' parts of the house has resulted in an emotional and physical response Obi-Wan hadn't quite prepared for, but is willing to work through. Anakin is leaning over the toilet, vomiting into the basin, sweat soaking through his ragged clothing while Obi-Wan rubs his back. It's familiar, that back, that fall of hair, the feeling of Anakin's body beneath his fingers.

"I know," Anakin gasps out, spitting bile. "Hope you're ready for that." He almost sounds like himself again in that moment, more playful than Obi-Wan expected, but the undercurrent of self-loathing is impossible to set aside.

Obi-Wan nods, using his own connection to the Force to start a bath running. He has no idea how long it's been since Anakin last took care of himself in this way - his hair is filthy, nearly parting into dreadlocks now that Obi-Wan has had time to really look at him. He smells of stale body odor and illness, and getting him clean will be a massive improvement all on its own. "I can wait outside if you'd prefer," he offers. The Anakin he'd once known hadn't held onto any illusions of modesty, but this Anakin has been alone for a long time. Obi-Wan is already forcing him outside of his normal comfort zones, he won't push on this one if he doesn't have to.

Anakin shakes his head, flushing the toilet as he stands from his crouched position on the floor, reaching up to slide his torn, stained tunic over his head. Obi-Wan realizes too, sadly, that Anakin's right arm is in about the same condition as Threepio - that will need to be rectified once they're back on Coruscant - and his left is covered in abscesses from the poorly-sanitized injections. "Stay," he implores.

Obi-Wan feels a flood of unexpected relief at the request. "Of course," he says, watching Anakin strip out of the rest of his clothing. The physical changes are obvious now, the weight loss drastic, muscle tone eaten away. He knows they plan to primarily use Anakin as a strategist against the Vong, and now he realizes they'll need to keep it that way - he won't have time to get Anakin back into the same fighting condition he'd been in during the war.

Letting out a slight gasp as he touches the water for the first time, Anakin eventually slips under the surface of the water, a light floral fragrance from the healing salts Obi-Wan had poured into the tub filling the air. "How long has it been?" Obi-Wan asks.

Anakin frowns slightly, dragging his hands back and forth through the water. "I don't remember," he admits. He shivers, tugging at a long strand of tangled hair. "How long am I supposed to feel like this?" he asks, plaintive.

"I don't know," Obi-Wan admits. He has no idea how long standard withdrawal from cilona lasts, has no idea when the midichlorians he has been poisoning for ten years will regain their ability to channel the Force, but he hopes it's soon. Besides getting Anakin clean, getting him sober, getting him able to face reality for long stretches of time, he's going to need to help him re-acclimate to the awesome power he used to wield as easily as breathing. Though given the respirator, breathing doesn't seem to come very easily anymore either.

Obi-Wan takes a bottle of shampoo from the side of the tub - it's old, but it will have to do - and gently squeezes a handful onto Anakin's filthy hair, working it through the strands, rubbing softly against his temples and nape of his neck. Anakin stiffens at first, the unexpected contact putting him on edge, but he soon relaxes against the side of the tub, letting Obi-Wan work at the tangles and snarls, the matted mess of hair. The suds turn nearly black, and Obi-Wan uses the hand-held shower nozzles to rinse it out, only to lather it up once more. By the time he's done, most of the tangles have been worked out - the rest can be tackled with a comb and some patience - and Anakin has tears running down his cheeks. "I'm sorry," Obi-Wan says. "I didn't mean to hurt you." Not now, not ever.

Anakin shakes his head. "It's not that," he says. "I just... never thought I'd see you again." He shivers, wraps his arms around himself. "But you're here and you're real and you aren't angry." He sucks in a rattling breath. "You deserve to be angry, you should be, but you're not." He sounds like a child, like he needs to break the universe down into simple terms for himself.

Because Obi-Wan's feelings are so much more complex. Truthfully, he is angry. Not just at what Anakin did, those years ago, in the pursuit of power and in the name of a man who turned out to be the embodiment of pure evil. No, not just for that, but for what he has allowed himself to become in the meanwhile. He's glad that Anakin seems to have given up the Dark, but he has given up everything else as well. That bothers him more than he'd expected it to, seeing his once vibrant friend nothing but a hollow shell of his own design. "I'm not angry," he says, because he's not sure what else to say.

-----

Anakin hasn't been outside in ten years. Obi-Wan is able to find a pair of blast goggles, the lenses dark to prevent retinal damage, and hands them over as he guides Anakin out onto the veranda, into fresh air that couldn't be more foreign to the young man. "You see?" he says, putting a supporting hand on Anakin's back, "there's life out here." Birds are singing, the sun is shining, reflecting off the lake beyond the house. A gentle breeze sends the scent of windflowers over them.

Anakin starts coughing, leaning over, one hand over his mouth and the other pressed against his chest, until Obi-Wan hands him the breathing mask. It takes less time to get his spasming lungs back under control this time, and he eventually straightens. "We got married here," he says. "Right here." His voice is trembling, but he doesn't immediately turn to head back inside. Progress.

Obi-Wan nods, rubbing Anakin's shoulder gently. "It's all right to miss her," he says, and doesn't mention that the reason she's gone is because of his actions. There's no point in rehashing it, forcing Anakin to relive it. "But you can't let your grief rule your life." He already has, and that's the root of the problem, but there is progress day by day. They don't have much more time before they need to return to Coruscant, but Obi-Wan is determined to strip away as much of this new Anakin as possible, get as close to the man he once was as he can.

Anakin seems to consider this, bracing himself against the railing, frowning out at the lake. The change, as Obi-Wan had warned, comes suddenly. A burst of light within the Force, an explosion of energy, a familiar burning presence, and Anakin is suddenly on his knees, retching onto the carved stone of the veranda's floor. Obi-Wan nearly does the same, the intensity overwhelming. Instead, he keeps a hand on Anakin's back, centering him and grounding him so he has something to cling to as the Force makes itself known in waves and unending waves. Anakin screams in agony.

Instinctively, it seems, Anakin reaches out to Obi-Wan within the swirling maelstrom of the Force, clinging tightly as though he will otherwise be swept away. Obi-Wan grabs hold and keeps him anchored, sinking down and wrapping physical arms around him as well. "It's okay," he says in Anakin's ear. "Just hold onto me. It will pass. It will pass."

Anakin sobs, clutching at Obi-Wan's arms. "It HURTS!" he cries, moaning, tears flowing freely now. Obi-Wan does his best to channel the pain, to lessen the heat, but this is something Anakin needs to get through. And eventually the initial horror passes, and eventually Anakin is able to move from his curled position on the ground, and eventually he can test out his restored power by floating a handful of small pebbles above the surface of the water, letting them splash down as his control falters. "I don't remember how," he murmurs.

Obi-Wan grasps his hand. "I'll teach you."

-----

Anakin rejects his offer of flying the ship back to Coruscant. Obi-Wan supposes he's not surprised, but he still can't help but feel a sting of disappointment. They've made progress; Anakin's control has improved, his ability to see ahead several seconds into the future restored. That will give them the edge they need over the Vong - though at several junctures Obi-Wan had very nearly forgotten the whole reason for this ordeal. The worst of the cilona withdrawal is over, he's able to be out in sunlight without the blast goggles for longer and longer periods of time.

He still wants to die, still reminds Obi-Wan of the bargain Obi-Wan never tacitly agreed to. "I'll help you, and you'll help me," he says, every day, as they train. Still, each day feels closer to how things used to be and Obi-Wan needs to keep the hope that Anakin will realize his true place is - has been, always will be - at Obi-Wan's side, not on a funeral pyre.

"I'm still not entirely convinced this isn't a trap," Anakin comments as he settles into the co-pilot's seat. It's a model of shuttle he should be familiar with, one they'd taken on countless missions during the war. He looks at it as though seeing it for the first time. "But," he adds, looking up with an expression that nearly erases the past ten years, "you know we have a policy on traps."

He remembers. Obi-Wan tries not to make his relief obvious, but he's getting closer to who Anakin used to be and every off-handed, cheeky comment is just one more step in the right direction. "That we do, my friend. That we do."

-----

Obi-Wan had expected their return to the Temple would be painful. He hadn't been prepared for the intensity of it, hadn't been prepared to watch Anakin relive the horrors that he had wrought upon this sacred place, the echoes of betrayal and devastation still reverberating in the walls. "Please," Anakin gasps, clutching at Obi-Wan's tunic in the Great Hall, in the shadow of one of the statues that has only recently been repaired from the damage wrought on it during the siege on the Temple, the lightsaber marks on it filled in, stood back up from where it had been toppled by a furious former Jedi. "My... The cilona... Just a little, I can't do this, it's too much, too much, take me back Obi-Wan, please!"

Obi-Wan embraces him, sends soothing pulses through their tentatively re-established bond. "Shh, no Anakin, you can get through this," he comforts. "You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for." It used to be that Anakin gave himself far too much credit. Obi-Wan would give anything to have those days back, that cocky confidence, that charismatic drive. He sees glimpses of it still, but it has mostly been buried so deep there's no chance of recovering it fully, just rebuilding it atop the ruins.

They wait for Anakin to calm down, for the memories to shuffle back under the rock where he'd shoved them so many years ago, for his breathing to even out (the portable respirator helps in that regard), before they head up to the Council chambers.

Anakin is trembling by the time they arrive, and Obi-Wan can hear him mentally begging to turn back, to pretend none of this ever happened. But then the doors slide open and Anakin is once again face to face with the very beings he once proclaimed to be enemies. Obi-Wan feels a flash of anger - they're all staring at Anakin as though he's a wild animal, as though he's going to lash out any moment. There's a certain truth to it - Anakin has allowed himself to become almost feral in his years away, but he's wounded, scared, would rather run than fight, now. They don't know that - not yet - but they get a glimpse of it when Anakin makes unintentional eye contact with Mace Windu and vomits.

------

They have another two days before battle, spent running drills, organizing the clones, the droids, the ships. Anakin finally seems like he's comfortable, even giving orders - tentatively at first and then with increasing confidence and verve. He pours over the battle plans and star charts, makes suggestions, demands more aggression in their defense. Through it all Obi-Wan remains a hair's breadth away from him, making sure he's as well as can be expected, that he's not burning himself out.

Then, it comes. The warning sirens wail, and everyone starts to run to their battle stations. Obi-Wan grabs Anakin by the arm before they head up the ramp to the Resolute. "Will you be okay?" he asks.

Anakin grins at him, and it's very nearly like old times. "This is what I was born for," he proclaims. Obi-Wan almost believes him.

-----

The battle is long, arduous, the losses catastrophic. Still, the Republic scores a victory, the Vong unable to counter Anakin's tactics, his brutal efficiency. It's terrifying, the glimmer of Vader, the inexhaustible energy that comes from being fueled by the Force. It's over now; all that's left is the cleanup.

Obi-Wan knocks on the door of Anakin's room - the one that had once been his, the one in the apartment they'd shared for half of Anakin's life. The room beyond the door is quiet, and Obi-Wan supposes it's too much to ask for Anakin to be sleeping. He lets himself in and sits beside Anakin on the bed. "When did you take it?" he asks softly.

Anakin blinks bleary eyes at him. "Just a couple minutes ago," he replies. "I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye." The serum from the Healers will counter the midichlorian response to heal his body, and will allow him to slip painlessly into death.

Obi-Wan entwines his fingers through Anakin's. "I honestly thought you'd change your mind," he says, and pulls Anakin into his lap, stroking his hair back, squeezing his hand. "I thought you'd decide to stay."

Anakin shakes his head, reaches up a hand to rub Obi-Wan's cheek. "You know I couldn't," he says. "I'm too much of a danger. You saw me out there - what's the difference between that, and anything else I've done? It would be too easy to lose control again." He sighs, breath rattling in his chest. "Besides, this is the least I deserve." For all the Jedi he's slaughtered, for his wife and unborn children, for the brief, horrible days of pure destruction and rage.

Despite himself, Obi-Wan feels his eyes fill with tears. "You never deserved any of it," he replies, though he'd come to terms years ago with Anakin's choices and the repercussions of them. "I will miss you greatly, my friend."

Anakin's eyes drift closed, his free hand fisted in Obi-Wan's robes. "I love you," he sighs out, then sags, then goes limp in Obi-Wan's arms.

Obi-Wan sits there for a long, long time, mourning a man he's lost too many times already. "I love you too, Anakin," he says, then activates his comm to let the Council know that it's all over. The galaxy is safe, from the Vong, and from Anakin Skywalker.

-the end-

NEW FIC: Everything's Cool When You're Part of a Team

2014-02-20T03:22:38Z

title Everything's Cool When You're Part of a Team
author patientalien
Rating R
Summary Obi-Wan's POV of the events of "Life is Good ('Cause Everything's Awesome)
Warnings Suicide attempt, depression, suicidal thoughts
notes Written in the bathtub at the behest of a reviewer on ff.net.

Anakin has been handling Ahsoka’s departure well. Better than Obi-Wan had expected, quite honestly. Of course, he’s sure the distraction of being back on the front lines so soon has something to do with that. Anakin is always better when he’s got something to focus his energy on. Still, there’s something not quite right about said energy. Something off, but Obi-Wan knows he’ll come around eventually and in the meantime makes sure to tell Anakin how proud he is of him for not giving in to the anger and grief he’s sure the younger man is feeling.

Anakin has always been different, from the moment he’d come to the Temple, he’d been set apart. Because of his circumstances, his age, the prophecy. Normal Jedi platitudes had never worked but Obi-Wan is privately relieved that he doesn’t have to worry in this instance. Anakin is holding up just fine and if his presence in the Force seems muted, well, that’s understandable.

Time passes, and Anakin’s muted presence is becoming even moreso. He skips meals, looks exhausted at all turns. Obi-Wan begins to worry that perhaps he isn’t holding up as well as he’d thought, but he doesn’t know how to broach the topic without sounding like he’s lecturing about letting go of attachments. After Anakin’s help and understanding after Satine’s passing - death - murder - he can’t in good conscience scold Anakin for this. For loving, for grieving what he has lost.

Padmé mentions she’s tried to talk to him, but got the brush off. Obi-Wan wants to be surprised by that (Padmé is one of very few people Anakin trusts implicitly - the others being the Chancellor and, Obi-Wan likes to think, himself - though that trust has been shaky in recent months), but finds he isn’t. Anakin, as emotionally expressive as he is, can be shockingly bad at admitting when something is truly wrong.

Captain Rex says his young General is spending a great deal of time either in his own quarters or in the docking bay. Also not entirely unusual for the mechanically-minded Jedi. Still, the way Rex says it makes Obi-Wan fret a bit, particularly when the Clone Captain tells Obi-Wan about some of Anakin’s recent battle plans.

"He says he’ll take his fighter and hit from within the Sep ranks. Alone." Is one of the reports. "Wants to do recon around the base. Alone." Is another. Always alone, and always in the midst of imminent danger. Obi-Wan frets, meditates, but does not dare seek council from his peers, fellow Masters, all of whom seem to be watching and waiting for Anakin to snap.

It’s hardly fair, Obi-Wan thinks. Anakin is reckless and impulsive, acting seemingly without conscious thought at times. But he is not, he thinks - he hopes - in danger of snapping. There is no seed of the Dark Side in him; if anything, Anakin is a blinding beacon of the Light. And where there is Light, such radiant light, there is bound to be some shadow. Obi-Wan has long come to accept that about his friend, and would never presume that just because Anakin is quiet, now - when has that boy ever been quiet? - it means something intrinsically wrong with him.

Obi-Wan had always wanted to see the best in him, after all. And does, still. Always will. It doesn’t mean he can’t worry, though, privately.

They’re granted respite on Coruscant, and Obi-Wan had expected to leave for parts unknown - well, not entirely unknown, Obi-Wan isn’t blind. Still, he’s surprised when Anakin says he’s going to spend time overhauling his fighter squadrons instead. Of course, that is easily explainable as well. Anakin’s moving meditation brings him peace in a way Obi-Wan has never truly understood but had come to accept.

Hours pass and Anakin still hadn’t returned. Obi-Wan knows how easily the younger man loses track of time, especially when he’s working on the ships, so he makes his way to the hanger bay to see if he wants to stop and get something to eat. He doesn’t see Anakin right away, but does see Artoo Detoo, hurtling towards him so fast the little astromech nearly tips itself over, squealing some kind of warning. “What is it?” Obi-Wan asks, though he could never hope to understand the beeps and trills the way Anakin can.

Artoo twirls its dome in distress and races off again in the direction it had come. Obi-Wan begins to feel a deep sickness within the Force as he follows, nearly bringing him to his knees as he gets closer to Anakin’s fighter.

At first he thinks the red puddle on the ground under the fighter is leaked hydraulic fluid, but then the bitter copper smell hits him and he covers his mouth and nose with the sleeve of his robe. No, not hydraulic fluid, something much more vital. The pain within the Force grows stronger and something inside him is fading. It takes only a brief moment to realize it’s the sense he usually has of Anakin, normally so strong and vibrant. There’s a gray haze over it all, and now Obi-Wan runs. A bloody handprint mars the otherwise pristine yellow paint job of Anakin’s fighter and there… Under the starboard wing… A figure huddled in on himself, the puddle growing ever larger around him.

"Anakin?" His voice is hoarse and he has to try again. "Anakin!" Because it is Anakin, lying there in a widening pool of his own blood, a stained utility knife just within reach of his huddled frame. Obi-Wan drops to his knees and rolls his friend over. Lips and eyelids blue. Face gray, devoid of blood. And his arm, his flesh arm, oh ANAKIN. Torn from wrist to elbow, a gaping wound, a violent gash.

Obi-Wan’s immediate thought is that Anakin had been attacked, caught off-guard. But he knows the truth as surely as he knows his own name and his heart nearly stops beating. “Anakin, no!”

Anakin is heavy, taller and broader, and Obi-Wan staggers under the weight, but adrenaline and the Force give him the strength and speed he needs to get to the Halls of Healing in record time.

All he can do is sit, and wait, and contemplate the blood stains on his tunic and pants while the Healers work to save his brother’s life.

——-

He comms Padmé first. She sounds devastated, but ultimately unsurprised. Promises to come immediately and Obi-Wan thinks she must have broken every traffic law on Coruscant to get to the Temple as quickly as she does. They don’t speak, no words are sufficient for the pain they share.

Ahsoka’s arrival is a surprise. He didn’t contact her, wouldn’t have even known how to get in touch with her had the thought crossed his mind. No words there, either. A strong training bond is not easily severed; she must have felt something to bring her back here. She hugs him tight and he can’t help but hug her back in silence.

It feels like decades before they’re allowed to see him. Vokara Che is, understandably, wary of allowing two civilians (for all intents and purposes) in as well, but when she sees the regal set of Padmé’s jaw and the protective, nearly feral posture of Ahsoka, she acquiesces.

Anakin sleeps for days and none of them leave his side for more than a couple of hours at a time. They barely speak to one another; the silence is deafening. Padmé works on her datapad, Senatorial duties still needing attending to even in her physical absence. Ahsoka spends her time brushing Anakin’s hair back and holding his hand, whispering stories of past adventures to him. Obi-Wan tries to meditate. Fails. Tries again.

"We’re here, Anakin," he murmurs aloud and through the Force.

On the third day, Anakin opens his eyes. Looks at them in confusion, and then in realization. “Get out,” he rasps.

When it’s clear he is serious, they do, walking as a unit to the Temple’s massive entrance hall. “I will keep you both updated, of course,” Obi-Wan says softly. Ahsoka slides his comm from his belt and programs in her new frequency. She and Padmé leave, the Senator glancing over her shoulder as they descend the wide staircase into the world beyond the Temple. Obi-Wan returns to the Halls of Healing and waits.

——-

He’s against the idea of the suppressor, but understands the need. Anakin is unwell, and with his powers it would be dangerous to let him out of the Jedi’s oversight without one. He knows it is only temporary but that doesn’t stop the terrible sense of wrongness when he suddenly can no longer feel the warm presence of his friend.

He knows it’s for the best. The Temple, despite having the highest quality care in the known galaxy, is woefully I equipped for a case like Anakin’s. So though it hurts to let him go, Obi-Wan does.

——-

He had his own missions to complete in the weeks Anakin is away. There are infrequent updates - General Skywalker is resisting treatment. General Skywalker is becoming more compliant. General Skywalker is making good progress. By the time Anakin comes home, the difference is clear. He’s thinking clearly, acting rationally. The barest hint of a scar on the underside of his left forearm one of the only reminders of how low he’d been.

They’re the Team again, fighting side by side and back to back. Anakin still has his moments - and days - ups and downs that seem more pronounced than they once had, but for the most part it’s clear he is healing. Is, at the very least, mostly well.

It isn’t until after Dooku is dead and he sees the haunted, exhausted look in Anakin’s eyes as he apologizes to Obi-Wan for not being appreciative of his training that Obi-Wan realizes how tenuous that grasp on wellness must be. Still, he has a mission to complete, a monster to slay, and Anakin had his own duties.

"Goodbye, old friend," Obi-Wan says, not realizing it will be for the last time, "May the Force be with you."

NEW FIC: Life is Good ('Cause Everything's Awesome)

2014-02-17T00:46:25Z

Author: patientalien
Fandoms: Star Wars: The Clone Wars
H/C: Wild Space (Isolation), Abandonment Issues, Suicide Attempt, Hospital Stay

Title: Life is Good ('Cause Everything's Awesome)
Medium: Fic
Rating: R
Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, depression, self-harm, isolation
Summary: The first inkling Anakin Skywalker has that not all is right in his head is when he wakes up some two or three weeks after Ahsoka’s departure feeling somewhat disappointed to still be alive. It just sort of goes downhill from there.

The first inkling Anakin Skywalker has that not all is right in his head is when he wakes up some two or three weeks after Ahsoka’s departure feeling somewhat disappointed to still be alive. The second clue he has is when he finds himself actively wishing that a stray aneurism would cross through his brain while he’s brushing his teeth. The third, and possibly most disturbing thing that makes him think something might be seriously wrong with him is when, while sitting in the hanger bay, overhauling the inertial dampeners on his fighter, he catches himself tracing the blue veins in his flesh arm with the business end of a utility knife. Not close enough to touch the skin, not yet, but his brain had said ‘just dip in there, buddy,’ and Anakin had dropped the knife with a start.

'Well that just doesn't seem normal,' is what he tells himself as he gathers his wits again. Because yeah, sure, he's been sad since Ahsoka has left. He'd even classify it as a mild depression, in total fairness. But he still has a job to do; the war doesn't end just because he's having a little bit of a hard time adjusting to his apprentice's sudden, painful departure. He's managed to stay perfectly functional, to the point Obi-Wan had even pointed out how well he's handling the whole affair. Obi-Wan's praise, so sought-after, makes him feel good, so it's with a great deal of surprise that he is suddenly, actively, wishing for death.

He’s not sure who to bring it up to. The Jedi are out of the question, even Obi-Wan, because they would probably take it to mean some manifestation of the Dark Side in him and that’s kind of the last thing he feels like putting up with. He doesn’t want to worry Padmé; she has enough going on as it is without him going to her and asking ‘Hey sweetie, have you ever just really wanted to take waaaay more than the intended dosage of cough medicine just on the off chance you might choke on your own puke?’ Also he’s a little worried he knows what her answer would be as well. Still, going to her is kind of a last-resort-type option. There’s Palpatine, but he doesn’t want the Chancellor to pull him from the front lines. So he stays silent. Because there is nobody else in his life who might even remotely care.

He’s used to not having friends. Ever since he was a Padawan, in his earliest days at the Temple, it was clear he was destined not only to bring balance to the Force, but also to be a habitual loner. He’d had some friends for a while, but one of them died and the other two blamed him - one since left the Order and the other pointedly ignores his greetings in the Temple halls. He’d had Obi-Wan, and Palpatine, and then Padmé and Ahsoka and that had been enough. It’s still enough, if he weren’t feeling so ridiculously, nonsensically miserable.

He can’t even really put his finger on WHY. Things that normally wouldn’t phase him in the least make him upset and anxious; everything he touches is assessed on how good of a weapon it would be against himself. Each moment is spent hoping that there won’t be a next moment.

He bottles it up, like he’s been taught. Okay, he’s technically been taught to release his emotions into the Force but it really boils down to the same thing. Don’t think bad thoughts. Don’t feel sad, or worried, or anxious, or suicidally unhappy. The more you pretend, the better you’ll feel. Except the more Anakon pretends, the more isolated he feels. Because no one knows, and that’s no one’s fault but his, so if it wouldn’t be too much trouble to get hit by a speeder bus, that would be phenomenal. Then it wouldn’t be anybody’s fault (well, except the speeder bus driver, but that’s kind of unfair to put that guy in the untenable circumstance of being the one to run over the Hero With No Fear so Anakin doesn’t walk into traffic today).

Padmé notices something is wrong and tries to get him to talk. “I just want you to feel better,” she implores, but he doesn’t tell her the whole thing because he doesn’t want to scare her. Instead he drinks a metric ton of her booze because at least if he’s not actively feeling anything he’s not passively trying to die. It isn’t until he wakes up the next afternoon with the worst hangover he’s ever had that he realizes the irony of giving himself alcohol poisoning in order to keep from giving himself any other kind of poisoning.

This goes on for weeks. This push and pull of misery and pretending to be fine, just fine. His men stop trusting him to make command decisions because they all involve him charging out by himself. If he dies in battle, that’s the Separatists’ fault. No guilt, no blame. But for some reason the men of the 501st don’t see it the same way so they keep interfering.

He’s fucking around with his utility knife again one day. Nothing better to do, he supposes, and this time the voice that says ‘just dip in there, buddy’ is a little louder and more persistent than previous days. So he does, dips into the flesh of his left wrist, slides the blade up the inside of his arm to the elbow. The pain is instant, and far more intense than he’d expected and it’s only his Jedi training that keeps him from crying out.

The cut is deep, the blood dark red, deoxygenated so he sliced the vein, not the artery. He tries to see into his arm, to find that vessel, like he can with the hydraulics and wires in his mechno. But it’s different when the wound keeps bleeding and obscuring the view, and when his vision is starting to go a little cloudy. Pain pain pain and warm blood is seeping through his tunic, spilling onto the floor. Sleep sounds like a good idea so he curls up, wrapping himself around his wound. Protecting himself from prying eyes. This time he’s the one doing the leaving.

———-

"Wake up. Oh, Ani, please wake up."

"We’re right here, Anakin."

"C’mon Skyguy, you can get through this."

————

His arm hurts and his first thought upon waking is that Dooku took the other one while he wasn’t looking. But it turns out it’s not gone, just heavily bandaged, and the voices he’s been hearing for the past however many days and nights haven’t just been dreams.

It takes an agonizingly long time to remember what happened and when he finally does, he tells everyone - Padmé, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka - to go away and leave him alone. He deserves to be alone. After the pain he’d seen on their faces, it’s better for everyone if they just don’t have to see it anymore.

The Jedi aren’t equipped to deal with a case like this, not at the Temple anyway. He’s sent elsewhere, a temporary Force suppressor injected under his skin, told to get well. Because nobody wants a broken Jedi. The doctors give him pills, tell him to talk about his feelings. He takes the pills and lies about his feelings.

Days stretch into a week. He’s left alone for the most part, only a handful of other patients recognizing him. That suits him just fine. The fewer people who know him are the fewer people who can be hurt by him.

The week stretches into more days and then two weeks have gone by and he takes the pills every day and every night and is starting to be a little more honest about how he feels. He doesn’t tell every secret, but admits to some, and as two weeks stretch into three and then four, the days where he wants to wake up dead grow fewer in number until one day he realizes that it is this, the fifth week, that he wakes up glad to see the sun shining outside his window every single morning.

He stays another week. Takes the pills and is honest about his feelings. He’s scared, and angry, and lonely. He’s thrilled and happy and in love. He is all of these things and more and the trick is keeping them all in balance. But he is the Chosen One, and balance is his destiny so he’s pretty sure he’ll be okay.

And he is, for the most part. Crisis averted, everything’s fine, situation normal. He goes back to his life and sometimes still feels miserable and depressed and anxious, but he never tells himself to ‘just dip in there’ again, and he doesn’t wish the universe would swallow him up anymore.

——-

It all falls away the moment Padmé tells him she is pregnant and he knows it’s only a matter of time. He holds her and tells her it’s the happiest moment of his life, but inside, and especially after the first of the nightmares, all he can hear is… ‘Just dip in there, buddy. This is the end.’

NEW FIC: point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over

2013-12-08T21:46:21Z

titlepoint the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over
author patientalien
rating PG-13
summary The war is changing both Anakin and Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan is forced to consider what that means for their relationship.
notes Written for the wonderful citizenjess, who also helped with some of the stickier plot points as well as helped with the title. Title comes from the song "Schism" by Tool.

The war rages on and there isn't time to mourn the lost. They're sent back out into the field mere days after Ahsoka has said her brief goodbyes, but it's for the best, Anakin thinks. Out in the field, he can forget. Out in the field, he can pour his feelings - pesky, tedious things - into the fight. Besides, he's got Obi-Wan by his side again.

It's not the same, though. Everything feels off-kilter, unbalanced, from Obi-Wan's uncharacteristic silence - fewer snide remarks about fine messes and more downcast expressions - to his own pulsing anger. He's not sure what to do about it, so he destroys 'droids with more violence than is strictly necessary and crashes hard at the end of the battles so he doesn't have to think about anything else.

He's best like this, commanding his troops with nothing else in his head besides strategy and tactics. But there's more, so much more, in his head swirling around and threatening to choke him in the miasma of uncontrollable emotion. Fear, that sick sense of dread that wells up and warns of impending doom, nearly cripples him each time he stops moving for too long.

So he tries not to stop moving, not even for a moment, in the most literal sense of the phrase. He knows he's exhausting Obi-Wan, frustrating the older man, but he can't consider stopping - not yet - not until the War is over. He doesn't want to burden Obi-Wan with the reasoning either, better he say 'I just want the War to be over, Master', than 'I'm afraid of what I'm going to do'.

He's exhausted, dreadfully so, but the exhaustion gives him something to fight against, something to focus on besides the aching fear that sits in his chest making it hard to breathe. He has Obi-Wan to focus on too, and that helps, pouring his energy and attention towards someone else. "Stop clinging," Obi-Wan requests, but Anakin persists, sticking close to his former Master, talking to avoid silence - because if there's silence, he starts thinking, and he doesn't want to start thinking.

"I've been thinking." Well, not about anything besides the battle, anyway.

"Should I be worried?" Obi-Wan's tone is flatter than normal, the playful 'I'm just teasing' glint in his eye that's usually there missing. His former Master folds his cloak neatly, compulsively so, and sets it just-there, just perfectly arranged, on his cot.

Anakin huffs out his annoyance. "I want to take a squadron around the planet," he explains, "sneak up on the Seppies from behind. Haven't tried that before, I think it might work." They wouldn't expect it, it's too simple, too obvious, but the cloud cover here would make the ideal testing ground for the theory and the clankers would never see him coming, not since he's modified half of Shadow Squadron to run virtually silent at sub-light speeds.

He can tell by Obi-Wan's expression that the older man doesn't think it's a good idea. He's used to that, now. He knows Obi-Wan will cave in the end, and even if he doesn't, Anakin already knows he's going to go through with his plan anyway, regardless of what Obi-Wan thinks. "Don't be ridiculous," Obi-Wan scolds and Anakin bristles. "They'll see you coming on their scanners from halfway across the planet and you won't stand a chance. They'll have plenty of time to scramble fighters and meet you."

"It will work, Master," Anakin insists, the old honorific tripping so easily from his lips. "I know it will!" It has to work, because he's running out of ideas and this planet is running out of resources.

Obi-Wan's hands splay across his folded cloak and he straightens, turning, one hand rising to stroke his beard. "You'll get yourself killed." It's said so simply, and it flares something inside of him.

"Good! I hope I do!" Anakin thunders out before he can stop himself and then takes a step back, mechanical hand flying to his mouth as if the gesture will take back the words.

Obi-Wan looks as though he's been slapped. "Anakin!" He steps forward, hand raised in supplication, but Anakin whirls away from him, angry tears stinging his eyes.

"Don't," he snarls. "Don't start." He doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to give weight to the horrible admission he's just thrown into the space between them. "I'm going to go prepare the men." He storms out and hears Obi-Wan's feeble 'Anakin, no!' echoing behind him.

-----

There's nothing he can do to stop the inevitable. Anakin has become even more unpredictable than he ever has been before, and Obi-Wan knows that to fight him on anything now would be fruitless. Still, Anakin's words echo in his head and if he thought he was going to get anything out of the conversation, he would have pushed the matter.

The truth of it is that he's not sure he knows Anakin anymore. The outburst had been a shock, at the very least, and Obi-Wan's not sure if Anakin meant it or not, but either way they were not words he'd ever expected to hear from his friend. It's the damnable War, he thinks, unfolding and refolding his cloak repeatedly, impotently. Sapping the humanity from all of them, making even the best of them little more than walking corpses. Even Master Yoda has been affected, the Dark Side growing stronger and more suffocating day by day.

It's not in Obi-Wan's nature to give up, but the War has sapped him even of his ability to see a way out of the conflict. Each hour that passes convinces him further that the only way he'll see the end of the War is through his death, that the only way the Sith's corrupt influence on the rest of the galaxy will end is through some catastrophic act. This is not a War they can win through singular battles, nor through brute strength. Anakin seems to think it is; he seems to think everything will be perfect if he could just get to Dooku, get to Grievous, get to Sidious.

Obi-Wan knows better. Too much has been lost already, too many people have been lost to the conflict, even those who haven't actually died. Even when the War ends, there will be pain. There will be suffering. It's a fact Anakin seems blind to, and Obi-Wan can barely bring himself to talk to the younger man anymore because he just doesn't understand, and doesn't want to listen to anything Obi-Wan has to say. He's not even entirely certain that Anakin considers what will happen when the War ends at all.

After the fourth or fifth repetition of the jerky folding movements, he has gathered himself enough to deal with Anakin's plan. It's foolhardy. It's reckless, and bound to fail. It's an act of desperation from a man who wants above all to consider himself the victor. Obi-Wan thumbs on his commlink and after a brief moment, the small holographic form of Captain Rex appears. "I need you to stall General Skywalker," he instructs, because even if Anakin doesn't want to listen, and even if Obi-Wan doesn't have the energy to make him listen, he needs to do something - it's what he always does, after all, pushing aside his own thoughts, his own needs, to support others. It's the Jedi way. It's the only way.

Rex gives him an affirmative, and Obi-Wan unfolds his cloak for the last time, wrapping it around himself and heading out into the cold afternoon air.

-----

"I'm telling you, the fighters aren't ready, Sir," Obi-Wan hears Rex say as he reaches the staging area. The Force is roiling with frustration, and Obi-Wan shields himself both physically with his cloak and mentally within the bond as he approaches.

"And I'm telling YOU that they should have been prepped by now!" Anakin is insisting, vehement and furious, his expectations as usual far higher than reality will allow. It's good, this time, Obi-Wan thinks, because it means he hasn't simply rolled over Rex's attempts to stall, it means he's truly grounded until Obi-Wan can take the opportunity to try and talk some sense into him.

The prospect is exhausting. He's spent twelve long years trying to talk sense into his young protege, and despite the strides Anakin has made in maturing since being Knighted, the War, this blasted War, is ruining everything and Obi-Wan isn't sure how much longer he can go on trying to hold everything together.

It's not about the prophecy. It's not about giving Anakin the chance to fulfill some uncertain destiny. It's about giving all he has, and then some, to keep his promise. That promise, which has caused so much resentment and frustration and joy and pride. That promise which ensured he would always stand in the shadow of Anakin's greatness, would always be also-ran to Anakin's headliner act. Insignificant, besides what he means to Anakin.

"You're dismissed, Captain," he tells Rex softly, pitching his voice low. "I can handle it from here." Rex salutes crisply and walks away, obviously relieved at the intervention, though his face betrays no such feeling.

Anakin spins around to face him. "I told you I didn't want to talk about it," he spits. "Go away!" He turns away again, stalking down the rows of fighters, inspecting without seeing, blind to everything but his own emotions. As usual.

"And then what?" Obi-Wan asks, flatly, wrapping his arms around himself within the sleeves of his cloak. "Your squadron isn't ready to fly, you heard Rex." Whether Rex was telling the truth or merely following Obi-Wan's orders is unclear, but it hardly matters. "Are you really just going to stomp around here pouting until they're ready?" He doesn't expect anything different, really, because that's Anakin. If he wants something, he'll pursue it with a single-minded determination that discounts the opinions or feelings of anyone around him.

Anakin's at his own Eta-2 Actis fighter, Artoo Detoo already plugged into the dorsal socket. The fighter is brand-new, to replace the one he'd lost on Cato Neimodia, on his last mission as Ahsoka's Master, and Obi-Wan knows the young man hasn't had a chance to tinker with it as much as he'd like. In fact, he's not entirely certain Anakin's even been in the cockpit of the new craft yet. This is hardly the kind of mission that would lend itself to experimentation with an unfamiliar ship, not that Anakin seems to care. "Artoo's already prepped mine," he says in confirmation of Obi-Wan's suspicion. "I can do it alone."

Anger flares and Obi-Wan tamps it down. If he is meant to discourage strong emotion in Anakin, he can't be feeling any of his own. "And if you do get yourself killed?" he asks, not sure he wants to hear the answer, but having to ask the question anyway.

Anakin shrugs, waving his hand to raise the cockpit canopy bubble. "Who cares?" he replies, blithely, as if it's not the worst response he could possibly have to the question. As if it's not a response that makes Obi-Wan feel as though he's been punched in the gut, revolted by his own revulsion in that moment as he stares at the young man he's guided and raised and lived with for over a decade as though he's never seen him before.

"Are you serious?" he manages to ask. "Why would you even say that?" But he knows why - he can sense it through their bond. He's felt it himself, these past few months. A helplessness, a hopelessness. Nothing will change, or get better, and their lives - or deaths - make little difference. "Anakin, stop and think." He won't tell Anakin what lies in the darkest corners of his heart, because he's not sure Anakin could handle that knowledge. Better to pretend it's not there.

Anakin's anger is a living thing and he spins around to face Obi-Wan. "I'm tired of doing things everyone else's way!" he exclaims, slamming his hand against the wing of his fighter for emphasis.

Obi-Wan scoffs out his disbelief. "When have you EVER done things anyone's way but your own?" he demands, advancing a few slight steps towards the younger man. "You're not a victim, Anakin, much as you seem inclined to believe otherwise." He won't raise his voice to match Anakin's, he tells himself. He won't lash out, because he is BETTER than that. What he does instead is add, "You're not the only one this War is hurting."

"Sure could have kriffing fooled me," Anakin snaps. "Sorry I'm not better at not having feelings, my Master." He doesn't sound sorry, but he never really does.

Obi-Wan grips his elbows within the sleeves of his robe tightly enough that he's fairly certain he'll have bruises. "I'm ordering you not to go," he says finally, after a long moment.

"You don't outrank me anymore!" Anakin bellows, but Obi-Wan withdraws a hand from his robe and holds it up.

"As a member of the High Council, I most certainly do," he replies and it's a low blow, but one Anakin surely has to realize comes out a desire to keep him safe. "And on behalf of the Council, I am forbidding this." 'Please listen,' he begs silently, taking another step forward.

Anakin is shaking his head in disbelief, eyes wide with the shock of betrayal. "You can't stop me," he warns, and flips himself into his fighter. The cockpit canopy lowers as the fighter rises from the hardstand, and Obi-Wan is left to strike his fist against the side before Anakin streaks off into the clouds.

-----

It's righteous anger, which means it isn't dangerous. It's anger rooted in inequity and betrayal and that gives him strength. It doesn't matter what Obi-Wan says, that he's on the Council - they are still equals now, and Anakin can make his own decisions.

He pushes aside the obvious questions - why did he say what he said, why is he even going through with this plan when even he knows it's bound for failure? It doesn't matter, he decides, why he says or does anything because in the end it won't win the War. For nearly three long years he's been trying, giving his flesh and blood to the Republic cause, and it's never enough. It will never be enough, not for the Council, and not for the Republic, and not for himself.

His fighter breaks through the atmosphere with a shuddering jolt, and Anakin frowns slightly, ordering Artoo to run a diagnostic as he flips around to head around the planet. Stupid fighter, they didn't even give him enough time to break her in before shipping them out again. The craft shudders again and then begins spinning lazily end over end as the sublight engines fail, first one, then the other. "You've GOT to be kidding me!" Anakin exclaims, pounding his fist against the console in front of him.

-All systems down- Artoo informs him. -Diverting all power to life support- There's a series of sparks within the cockpit and Anakin winces as a few hit his face. -Life support down- Grimacing, Anakin tugs his manual oxygen mask over his face. -No power. No oxygen- Artoo corrects just as Anakin realizes there's no air flow through the mask.

He sits back and stares out the cockpit canopy at the stars - and then the planet - and then the stars again as the fighter lazily spins out into oblivion.

-----

Obi-Wan watches Anakin's fighter until it's no more than a dark speck on the horizon. Then he turns, walking away from the staging area, back to his own makeshift quarters, shaking his head as he goes.

He should have known Anakin wouldn't back down. He should have seen that coming, should have known better than to throw his position on the Council up like that. That he was desperate to keep Anakin grounded, to get Anakin talking, is his immediate explanation but the truth is he wanted to pull rank. He wanted to make Anakin obey, just once, make him understand that he's not alone in how he's feeling.

It's hardly a fair thought; he wouldn't wish his feelings on anyone, but Anakin, for all his selfless compassion in some areas, is woefully out of tune with the feelings of those closest to him, and Obi-Wan half thinks Anakin's outburst was simply an effort at being melodramatic.

Still, there was a distinct TRUTH to it in the Force, and that still has Obi-Wan's hackles raised. It would be so easy to allow himself to die in battle, and he can't image Anakin hasn't thought the same thing. He doesn't, though - for the Republic and his commitment to the Jedi, but mostly for Anakin. He's seen what happens when Anakin experiences a loss he isn't prepared for, and the fallout would be catastrophic. He couldn't do that to his best friend, even if his best friend is ridiculously insensitive at times.

He's still angry, though, at the casual disregard Anakin had for the impact his words made, and then for his abject disobedience in the face of a direct order, and that anger is stewing and threatening to overflow as Captain Rex runs up to him. "General Kenobi," he says, clipped and somewhat breathless -he must have run all the way from the staging area.

"What is it?" he asks, trying to soften his tone. It's not Rex's fault.

Rex straightens. "We received a distress call," he explains, and Obi-Wan feels a ripple of warning in the Force.

"From Anakin?" he presumes. Of course the plan didn't work, of course Anakin's calling for help, to be bailed out and rescued from yet another cockeyed scheme that Obi-Wan had WARNED him wouldn't work.

Shifting his weight, Rex shakes his head. "From the astromech, Sir," he replies. "We haven't been able to make contact with General Skywalker, but Artoo says he's still alive. Just not answering."

Obi-Wan's heart thuds painfully in his chest. "Thank you, Captain," he hears himself say, moving further into his quarters, closing the door before Rex can ask for instructions on how to proceed. He feels... numb, except for that horrible pounding of his heart. Anakin's not answering his men. Anakin wouldn't send his own distress call. Anakin is capable of doing both, but didn't. It's easy enough to figure out what the young man expects - and perhaps desires - the outcome to be.

And Obi-Wan almost leaves him to it. This is what he wanted, this is what they'd fought over. If he can't be bothered to keep living, Obi-Wan can't be bothered making him. The thought passes quickly, but Obi-Wan immediately feels an aching misery for having it at all. He thumbs on his commlink, not expecting a different result than what Rex had gotten, but wanting to try anyway. "Anakin."

It takes two tries, but then the commlink flickers to life and the image of Anakin appears. He's sweating, and seems to be breathing tightly, but is definitely still very much alive. "Master," he says softly. "I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "Anakin, what happened?" he asks. He needs to know how much time they have, what happened, so he can make a plan. He needs to know if Anakin even wants to be rescued.

"It couldn't take the jump out of atmo," Anakin scoffs. "Power died. Engines. Life support." Obi-Wan assumes the communication system is being re-routed through Artoo Detoo's internal comm channel. Anakin's chest heaves. "Not sure how much oxygen I've got left," he admits, and gasps again. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. I... was wrong. I know that you... aren't emotionless. I know... I was unfair... I just want you to know that I'm... I'm sorry."

He's not apologizing for his plan, not claiming himself wrong because of his fighter's malfunction. He's admitting cognizance of Obi-Wan's pain, and even that is cause for alarm because Anakin never admits when he is wrong, which means he knows how dire his situation is. "Anakin, this War is changing all of us," Obi-Wan ventures, quickly, carefully. "I don't know when it will end, but I do know when it does end..." He clears his throat; for all his renown as The Negotiator, he seems wildly ill prepared for this eventuality. "When it does end, I want us both to be there to see it."

Anakin blinks at him slowly. "I'm sorry," he repeats. "Tell Padme..." But Obi-Wan doesn't hear him, because he's running back the way Rex came, shouting to scramble a shuttle and to get a lock on Anakin's coordinates. He won't make Anakin face life without him, and he won't allow himself to face life without Anakin. He'll rescue his brother now, and always.

NEW FIC: Be Merciful and Set Me Free

2013-11-11T22:18:23Z

title Be Merciful and Set Me Free
author patientalien
Rating R
Summary AU of "Altar of Mortis" - Obi-Wan is taken by the Son and experiences visions of his past - and future.
Notes Written for citizenjess because I love her and she asked. Title from "If I Burn" by Emilie Autumn.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is ready to leave Mortis far behind. With Ahsoka at the helm, he sits in the cargo hold with Anakin, watching him sleep. He's still not entirely certain what they've experienced was real, but it seems real enough and the toll it has taken on Anakin is also frighteningly real.

Obi-Wan isn't sure when he started to believe Anakin was truly the Chosen One. Qui-Gon had believed whole-heartedly, and Obi-Wan's sure many on the Council do as well, but he's not sure when his mind changed. Now, though, he knows.

It's not that he's unaware of the kind of power Anakin has, but in the Arena it took on a new clarity; Anakin is a vessle of the Force itself and feeling the Force flow into him there, be channeled and controlled by him - it was exhilarating, and terrifying.

Now, Anakin is spent, sleeping on the narrow bunk, but Obi-Wan can feel the Force swirling around the shuttle; he's not sure if it's from Anakin or from the planet itself, but it's unsettling.

Firm hands grasp his upper arms and Anakin wakes with a shout as the Son hisses in Obi-Wan's ear, "You're coming with me." The lower cargo doors open and Anakin's yelling his name but it's lost in the wind whipping by Obi-Wan's ears. The Son is holding him tightly and then transforms, and everything goes dark.

-----

Echoing silence. The feeling of chains around his wrists. Obi-Wan comes back to himself in fitful spurts, and when he opens his eyes, he's alone. Not entirely alone, he realizes. There's a slithering presence in the Force, a slimy sensation worming its way over his mind.

"Obi-Wan." The voice is achingly familiar, and this is the second time he's heard it in as many days. It chills him as it did the first time, and his head snaps up to see Qui-Gon Jinn standing before him, glowing and otherworldly. "You've failed, Obi-Wan," he says.

That statement makes Obi-Wan's heart thud painfully. "Failed, Master?" he stammers out. The reasons are myriad, and they slam into him. He failed on Naboo. He failed training Anakin.

"You were never the apprentice I wanted." Plain truth, and Obi-Wan had thought he'd come to terms with the knowledge years ago, but it still is a laser-scorch. It's strange how easily he falls into agreeing, after all the time he's spent working through his insecurities, all the energy spent releasing them into the Force. It feels familiar, this pain.

Still, he bows his head. "I know, Master," he says. He knows. He is not Feemor, or Xanatos. He is not Anakin. He was a placeholder, a way station between one truly-wanted (fallen) apprentice and the next.

Qui-Gon looks at him, and there's something in his eyes that was not there in the cave. Something feels wrong, prickling up his spine. It feels like Korriban. It feels like Zigoola. "You disappoint me," Qui-Gon says, and it's dark again.

-----

He's no longer chained, and the room he's in is different but nonetheless looks familiar. Standing, his hand finds his lightsaber by instinct and part of him is surprised it's still there. The blue beam and familiar hum comfort him for a moment, center him and ground him.

"Son!" he calls out into the emptiness, his voice reverberating off the walls of a place his mind can't readily identify but his soul seems to know. "Whatever it is you hope to gain from this, it won't work!" He has nothing pithy to say, no teasing comments.

"Won't it?" It's not the Son's voice, and Obi-Wan swings his blade in the direction of the sound, the light casting blue haze over the figure standing in the shadows.

It's the hair that gives him away, a jet-black fall of hair that identifies him before Obi-Wan even sees the broken-circle scar. "Xanatos." Qui-Gon's former apprentice, turned Dark. A betrayer, a menace, a specter from Obi-Wan's apprenticeship that had haunted him at every turn, seeking revenge.

Xanatos smirks, then grins, predatory, stalking towards him, white teeth glinting in the waning light. "You sound unhappy to see me," he says, and the same sickening Force-sense comes with him. He sidles up to Obi-Wan, ignoring the humming blue blade, and Obi-Wan knows he could swing his arm to the side, cut the man in two, but he doesn't. He's not sure why he doesn't, isn't sure why he powers down the lightsaber and stands with it impotent in his hand.

"Whatever game you're playing, you won't win," Obi-Wan proclaims, swallowing heavily. He has no idea what is happening, or why these dead men are appearing to him - he assumes it's the Son, playing tricks within the Force, but it doesn't make it feel any less real. Xanatos' hand running its way down his cheek certainly feels real, at least. "Don't. Touch me." He jerks away, holding his chin up, defiant.

"Tsk, tsk," Xanatos scolds, shaking a finger and smirking. "That's no way to talk to an old friend, now, is it?" His voice is smooth, silken, and his fingers are soft against Obi-Wan's skin. "Not after everything you've allowed me to do." The accusation stings, the implication that Obi-Wan ever allowed the things Xanatos had done to him when he was no more than a boy. And there it is again, that sense of failure, of weakness, of being lesser.

"I allowed you nothing," he whispers, and Xanatos presses his lips down on Obi-Wan's and there is darkness once more.

-----

Children's laughter jars him awake, and a swift punch to the gut makes him stand before he's fully aware of his new surroundings. For a moment he truly believes he is back in the Temple - the illusion of the Room of a Thousand Fountains is quite convincing, but it does not carry the serene calm in the Force it would were it real.

A kick to the knee makes him fall, and the child's laughter turns into a voice. "Still clumsy as ever, Oafy-Wan," it taunts. "Even the farmers didn't want you." He looks up into the face of Bruck Chun and forgets for just a moment that he is an adult, a Jedi Master who has trained a Padawan to Knighthood. Instead he is a frightened child once more, and they are both transported by his memories to the top of one of the towering waterfalls.

He stands on the slick rocks, using the Force to steady himself, maintain his balance. "You're dead," he informs Bruck. "Everyone here is already dead, and the dead cannot hurt me." He's saying it to himself, and repeats it in his head, a mantra. The dead cannot hurt him, these are merely memories.

But Bruck's hands on his arms are real enough and the words he spits are true, from a certain point of view. "Dead because of you!"

Obi-Wan shakes his head. He's sure the Son is merely culling trauma from his own mind, but it's hard to differentiate with Bruck Chun standing in front of me, the sting of Xanatos' lips still on his, Qui-Gon's disapproval ringing through the Force-darkened room. "It was an accident," he says. "You're not really here."

Bruck lashes out, and Obi-Wan grabs his fist before it can make contact with the practiced ease of a Jedi Master. "I will not repeat the past," he says, but he can hear the waver in his own voice because he's doing exactly that. He pushes Bruck backwards, and then shouts because Bruck loses his footing, topples back over the precipice but this time he doesn't catch himself and he falls and lands with a sickening crack on the rocks below. Obi-Wan doesn't cry out, instead sits back on his haunches. There's no point in fighting, and he closes his eyes and waits for the next torment.

-----

A monster on mechanical legs, clacking metal-upon-metal and the smell of the reactor core in Theed. Obi-Wan knows before he opens his eyes what he will see. "No," he says and keeps his eyes closed, hands resting lightly on his knees in traditional meditation pose.

"Face me, Kenobi," Darth Maul snarls. "Finish what you started." There's no way he can be alive and his voice sounds like the Son's but Obi-Wan opens his eyes anyway to look up into the crazed yellow irises of the one who took everything from him.

"I will not fight you," he says.

Maul snarls, all broken teeth and rage. His lightsaber is out, both ends humming, and he slashes the floor in front of Obi-Wan's knees, sparks flying up and burning his face. "Finish it," he hisses.

"I will not fight you," Obi-Wan repeats and winces as the lightsaber's glowing red blade ghosts across his throat, close enough to scorch.

He feels the Force wrapping around him, standing him up, depositing him onto his feet. "Don't you want revenge?" Maul asks, twirling his lightsaber before him invitingly. "For what I did to your Master, for making you into a failure?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head. He doesn't want to reach for his own blade, but he does, knowing the only way this encounter will end is if he fights. "I did not fail," he replies. "I killed you." He takes a deep breath. "Revenge is not the Jedi way." Except he wants it, had wanted it then and still does because Darth Maul took everything, ripped it apart and Obi-Wan has done his best to piece it all back together, but he has failed.

"Then you are not a Jedi," Maul counters, and strikes.

It's not the same as the battle on Theed. Obi-Wan is not the same man he was then, but he's not sure the man he has become is any better because he is allowing himself to become angry, at the Son for the illusion, at Maul for destroying everything, at himself for failing over and over and over again.

The anger fuels him and the Force turns red. Maul is no match for this, the quiet fury Obi-Wan knows now he has always carried inside him. And so what kind of Jedi does that make him? What kind of man? He beats Maul back, corners him, and the specter disappears as Obi-Wan swings his blade to end it all.

-----

He's on his knees again when he thinks he has finally been rescued. "Master!" It's Anakin, running towards him. "Master, I found you!"

It takes everything in him not to embrace his friend, to thank him for saving him from this nightmare. Instead, he stands. "It certainly took you long enough." If he can sound normal, if he can stop his hands from shaking, this will all be okay and he can go back to being Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Anakin stiffens, and Obi-Wan looks at him fully for the first time and what he sees makes his hope vanish because this is not Anakin, it surely can't be. The Force swirls around him in a dark maelstrom, his eyes are yellowed and hooded, and the rage - the rage and despair emanating from the man he calls brother is suffocating.

"Anakin!" Surely this is another of the Son's illusions, but all of the others have been of those long-dead. Anakin is, to Obi-Wan's knowledge, very much alive. Anakin is prone to fits of anger. Anakin is reckless and impulsive and if he thinks turning will save someone he loves... Obi-Wan has always trusted that the Light within Anakin would triumph. Mortis has made him less certain and what certainty he has left drains away when Anakin raises a hand, lifting Obi-Wan by a Force-grip around his neck. He can feel his toes scraping the stone floor and Anakin strides forward until they are nearly nose-to-nose. Anakin's Force signature stinks of the Dark Side, and the air around them stinks of sulfer and suddenly it's unbearably hot and Anakin still has him in the invisible bonds of the Force. "Anakin, why?" he chokes out.

"I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new Empire," Anakin informs him, voice low, daring Obi-Wan to challenge him. "I've become more powerful than any Jedi." His lips peel off his teeth in a feral smile. "I've become more powerful than YOU, my Master." He lowers his hand and Obi-Wan drops to the ground, hot to the touch, lava flows surrounding him on all sides.

Unlike the other spectres, Anakin does not openly taunt him about his failure. His very presence, steeped in the Dark Side, is testament enough, is untarnished proof that everything Obi-Wan has worked for and struggled with and overcome has been for nothing. Anakin was his greatest accomplishment, and now his greatest failure and even if this is merely the Son ripping insecurity from his mind, it is still Anakin standing here, wild-eyed, mad with power.

"Do you want to see what else I've done?" Anakin asks, sounding like an eager child, excited to share an accomplishment. Obi-Wan shakes his head, but Anakin puts his hands on either side of Obi-Wan's head, and Obi-Wan SEES - slaughtered Younglings, the Temple in flames, Padme Amidala gasping for air as an invisible noose tightens around her neck. "All thanks to your training," Anakin whispers, and releases him.

Obi-Wan takes shaking steps backwards, away from the monster wearing his friend's face. "You're not Anakin," he says, holding up a hand as if the gesture would ward off the truth standing in front of him. "You can't be."

"Not anymore," Anakin agrees, and gestures, the Force pulling Obi-Wan close. "I'm so much better, now," he says, ghosting his lips across Obi-Wan's cheek. "Goodbye, Master."

Like Xanatos, Anakin pulls him close and kisses him but this is not a teasing kiss, this is deep and longing and Obi-Wan nearly sinks into it, nearly fists his hands in Anakin's hair and nearly begs him to stay because whatever Anakin has become, or will become, or hasn't become if this is a trick, matters because Obi-Wan needs something to hang on to, and until now that something has been Anakin.

He can't articulate any of it, because Anakin disappears and he is alone again.
>-----</center>

He's not sure how much time passes, but no more visions come to him, no more illusions. His wrists are again shackled together and he kneels in the middle of the room with his head bowed. He tries to meditate, but the Force keeps slipping away from him. When he is able to access it, the meditation brings no comfort. The meditation shows him his failures, and his agony as if holding up a mirror so eventually he gives up trying.

"Obi-Wan."

His old Master looks concerned, and the Force feels right again - Light and crisp, not like the first time he had appeared in this prison, a glamour produced by the Son. "Leave me alone," Obi-Wan manages. Even if this truly is Qui-Gon, he doesn't want to hear what he might have to say because nothing will change any of the truths the Son has laid bare.

"You must leave this place," Qui-Gon tells him.

Obi-Wan holds up his chained wrists. "I can't," he says, "I'm trapped here." Just because Qui-Gon can appear and disappear at will doesn't mean Obi-Wan can, after all - just another weakness, just another failure.

Qui-Gon looks down at Obi-Wan's wrists, and Obi-Wan follows his gaze, and the shackles are gone. He looks up again, and Qui-Gon says, "The only one keeping you here is yourself."

He blinks, and lowers himself down. Obi-Wan rests his head against the stone, and waits for rescue.

NEW FIC: Profit and Loss Margins for a Tentacle Dungeon

2013-08-04T01:13:51Z

title Profit and Loss Margins for a Tentacle Dungeon
authorpatientalien
rating M
summary Xanatos du Crion has an accountant, a dungeon, and a tentacle demon. Oh, and a Jedi Padawan.
notes Based on Jess and Jen's hilarious tumblr RP.

"Ten thousand credits per month?"

At the sound of the other man's voice, Xanatos du Crion sighs and puts down his datapad. "What did you say, Paul?" he asks his accountant, taking off his bifocals and setting them on the table.

Paul, the aforementioned accountant, waves a printed spreadsheet at him. "Ten thousand credits per month, Xan!" he repeats. "For a... what does this say? Tentacle dungeon?" He puts the spreadsheet down and gives Xanatos an incredulous look. "Really?"

Xanatos shrugs nonchalantly, as if tentacle dungeons are run of the mill purchases. "It's for work," he replies equally nonchalantly. "So I'm sure we can claim it as a write-off, right?"

Paul pinches the bridge of his nose, the start of a migraine forming behind his right eye. "I'm fairly certain 'tentacle dungeon' is not a legitimate business expense," he informs the other man, though he does make a note to look through the case law to see if there is a loophole somewhere. It's a big galaxy, so it's possible.

"I can show you," Xanatos offers, standing up and gesturing to the doorway. "Come on, it will be fun."

Paul is dubious about this, but he is kind of curious about what one does with a tentacle dungeon. He also has no idea what a tentacle dungeon even IS. "Fine," he acquieses.

Xanatos seems ridiculously pleased as he leads Paul down a set of stone stairs (Paul isn't one hundred percent certain he's ever noticed them, and it's entirely possible they are a new addition) to a large metal door.

The dark-haired man keys in a code in the pad by the door and it swings open. Immediately, the definition of the term 'tentacle dungeon' becomes apparent. It is, indeed, a dungeon in the most literal sense of the word, and there are, in fact, tentacles that seem to be growing from the walls. Every wall, top to bottom, is sprouting green and purple tentacles, long and waving, sticky suckers probing the air.

"Huh," Paul says and then notices something in the room that is definitely not a tentacle but is instead wrapped in said tentacles. "Is that a person?" he squawks, but then decides he really needs to expect this sort of thing.

"That is an Obi-Wan," Xanatos responds, and the Obi-Wan makes a moaning noise as the tentacles bereft him of more of his clothing. "I told you it was for work."

Paul opens his mouth once or twice like a surprised goober fish. "Did you kidnap that kid?" he demands.

Xanatos waves his hand in a dismissive fashion. "Kidnap is such a strong word."

"Well, where did he come from?" Paul asks as the tentacles start to insert themselves into... oh. Paul's own asshole clenches on its own accord.

"From mind your business, Paul, that's where," Xanatos reponds as the Obi-Wan begins to make pathetic mewling noises.

"We could get in a lot of trouble for this," Paul points out, but he's sure Xanatos is going to have some kind of witty response to that, too. "There are laws against, you know, kidnapping Jedi Padawans."

"Not as many as you'd think," Xanatos responds, much as Paul had expected. "His name is Jerry, by the way."

"Who, the Padawan? I thought you said he was an Obi-Wan." Paul is starting to get a little confused by all of this.

Xanatos rolls his eyes and tosses his hair over his shoulder with a flourish because obviously it is a completely necessary thing to do at that exact moment. "No, the Padawan is Obi-Wan, the tentacle demon is Jerry," he explains, as if to a child. Which Paul is not, by the way, he's a forty-two-year-old accountant and just because he can't parse out why Xanatos du Crion has a kriffing Jedi Apprentice in a dungeon that also contains a tentacle demon, it doesn't mean he is a child.

"Regardless, Xan, we can't keep a tentacle dungeon down here." Paul decides to try a different track. "There are zoning laws to consider, for example. And I'm not sure if we need to register a tentacle demon - get it shots and vaccinations?" He starts ticking additional items off on his fingers. "I mean besides the obvious, the expenses for this thing are going to add up."

"Money is of no concern," says Xanatos, making a hand gesture. Jerry the Tentacle Demon slides itself deeper into the Obi-Wan's mouth and asshole. Paul winces. "All I'm asking you to do is continue to be discrete." One of Jerry's tentacles wraps itself loosely around Paul's neck. "Can you do that for me, Paul?"

Paul gulps and nods. It's not as though he has any intention of being indiscrete, it's just that he's not sure Xanatos has thought this plan all the way through.

The tentacle retracts. "Good," he says. "Can you show yourself out?" he asks after a moment, leaving Paul near the door and sidling up beside the Obi-Wan. "I've got to make sure our guest is enjoying the accomodations."

From the whimpering noise the Padawan is making, Paul assumes he does not find the accomodations to be at all satisfactory. Still, he can take a hint, and leads himself back up the stairs and back to his ledgers and balance sheets. He tries not to notice how rumpled Xanatos looks when he comes back up, an hour later. "You can use it as a tax write-off," he says, simply, and goes back to his work.

NEW FIC: No Hiding, No Safe Covers

2013-07-07T20:49:42Z

Title: No Hiding, No Safe Covers
Author(s): patientalien
Artist(s): nerd_girl1138, AKA Rin AKA lady-anakin-skywalker
Fandom(s): Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Type: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 7446
Characters/Pairings (if any): Anakin Skywalker & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers to the end of Season 5 of The Clone Wars
Summary: Anakin and Obi-Wan are captured (as ya do), but the Force-inhibitor they are given has a strange effect on Anakin. Obi-Wan is forced (heh) to examine what he knows about his friend, and Anakin is forced to channel and control his powers in order for them both to survive.
Author’s Notes: Thank you SO much to Rin for the gorgeous artwork; I am completely in awe of it. Also thank you to citizenjess for the beta and title even though I was rude and told her nothing about the fic whatsoever beforehand. Title comes from "Truce" by Amanda Palmer/The Dresden Dolls.

LOOK AT THIS AMAZING ART

The agony that came from the first injection was so penetrating and all-consuming that it nearly circled around again to forbidden pleasure. Every nerve ending blazed with fire, every synapse opened to the elements. And the Force…

The injection was meant to keep him from feeling, from manipulating the Force, and yet somehow he could sense not just the Living Force, but the Unifying Force. He could feel the midi-chlorians in everything he touched, in everything that touched him. He could manipulate them and make them become completely different. They obeyed his command, and through his torment, he could make them show him the future. It was a future of flames and pain and loss, but it was the future nonetheless, and it was exhilarating.

All this, without rising from his cot, without opening his eyes.

-----

A sharp cry brought Obi-Wan Kenobi to the bedside of his former apprentice. Without their Force bond, Obi-Wan found himself obliged to use other methods of seeing to the well-being of the young man. “Oh, Anakin,” he sighed, and ran his hand over his sweaty brow.

Anakin Skywalker simply moaned and arched away from Obi-Wan’s touch. His fever had not subsided, and Obi-Wan was beginning to truly and completely worry about his friend. Although they had been given the same Force-stifling drug, Anakin’s reaction had not, to say the least, been the intended one. Although he had no proof and no way to really find out, Obi-Wan had a suspicion that it was Anakin’s astronomically high midi-chlorian count that had made him so susceptible. He truly wasn't sure, since Anakin had been given Force-suppressing drugs before, but never to this effect.

He could only hope the drug would begin to wear off soon. He didn’t know how much more he – or Anakin – could take of this. The absence of the Force was a dull ache in the back of his head. He felt lost and alone without the humming of life through him, and to be isolated from Anakin like this was torment. While they were frequently separated for missions, the younger man's vivid presence was always there in the back of his mind. Being torn so violently from him now made him think, unpleasantly, of the Rako Hardeen mission, about the pain of being tossed into Force-blankness. It was torture of a kind only a Force user could experience.

“Anakin,” he repeated, more for his own sake than his friend’s. Anakin moaned softly and turned towards Obi-Wan, his eyes slitting open. Relief rushed through Obi-Wan, making him dizzy, making him lose his focus. No. He should be perfectly capable of worrying about Anakin and dealing with their situation at the same time. He couldn’t let his emotions rule him. Even without the Force, he was a Jedi first and foremost.

“M- Master?” Anakin’s voice was gravelly, and it was clear just forming that simple word was causing him pain. Obi-Wan felt something reach out from Anakin, and it took a moment to recognize it as a tendril of Living Force. If he could sense it… and if Anakin was projecting it… Obi-Wan reached out and tried to touch Anakin’s Force signature, but he couldn’t feel anything other than that one thread coming from Anakin.

Obi-Wan gently ran a hand through Anakin’s hair. “Rest, Anakin,” he instructed. “I’ll be right beside you.” Just as he always was, and just as Anakin always was for him.

Anakin let out a shuddering sigh. “It hurts,” he hissed through clenched teeth. His eyes shot open, and Obi-Wan was horrified to see, instead of Anakin’s usual clear gaze, angry red hemorrhages filling the whites and threatening to overtake the blue irises. As those inhuman eyes raked the room, Obi-Wan noticed something strange. Wherever Anakin’s gaze landed, small cracks appeared in the stone walls. Could Anakin still harness the power of the Force? Or was this just coincidence – a doomed prison buckling under its own weight while two Jedi were being held captive. Obi-Wan had no idea, and that made him nervous.

The lock on the cell door clanked, and Obi-Wan sprang to his feet, feeling naked without his lightsaber and his ability to tell what was going to be entering their cell. As he had expected, though, it was one of their captors, carrying a wooden tray with steaming bowls and mugs. “You will free us,” Obi-Wan commanded, remembering halfway through that he didn’t have the power of the Force behind his words. Not that his mind tricks would work on this woman, of course. “We did not come here to do you harm, you must realize that!”

The Witch shook her mangy head. “You think your words convince me, Jedi?” she snarled, placing the tray on the floor. “Your kind has betrayed us, and you will be the ones to pay.” She looks up at Obi-Wan with venomous eyes. "Our sister Asajj knew, she started her magic before the decimation but it was not finished until now." With a hiss, she turned and stalked out of the cell, slamming the door behind her. Dooku's devastation of the Night Sister clan had, obviously not been without wider-reaching repercussions. And Ventress... when she'd returned to the Nightsister clan of her birth, she had been angry at the galaxy. Obi-Wan supposed he was not surprised he and Anakin got caught up in her schemes of revenge. She was powerful enough, after all, that whatever she'd done had endured long enough on the planet to draw them in.

Obi-Wan dropped to the floor again with a sigh. On the bed, Anakin echoed his sigh, and moaned softly. Glancing up at his friend, Obi-Wan scooted over to the tray the Witch had left them with. Two bowls with some kind of stew, some hard bread, and mugs of water. Obi-Wan was suspicious the food would contain more of the drug, but neither he nor Anakin had eaten in at least a day and a half, and his hope that some nourishment would help Anakin’s state overrode any other concern.

He sat on the small bed beside Anakin, and helped the younger Jedi into a sitting position. “No, no, no, no,” Anakin whimpered, tears springing to his eyes. That he was protesting, that he wasn't putting up a brave front or soldiering forward meant the pain was likely overpowering, but he needed to get Anakin to at least drink some water.

Picking up the mug, he ran his hand soothingly through Anakin’s tangled and sweat-dampened hair. “It’s okay, my friend,” he whispered, and raised the mug to Anakin’s lips. At first, Anakin resisted, but finally his struggle lessened, and was able to drink the mug down. One hurdle crossed, Obi-Wan thought, and grabbed the stew. “Anakin, you must eat,” he insisted, and tried spooning some of the stew into Anakin’s mouth. Anakin shook his head, but again allowed Obi-Wan to feed him the rich stew. Once the bowl was empty, Anakin sagged back against Obi-Wan’s chest, fast asleep. Apparently, just the simple act of sitting up and eating had sapped his energy.

Obi-Wan gently rearranged Anakin in a prone position, and lowered to the floor, quite ready for some sustenance himself.

-----

Anakin woke feeling much more clear-headed than he had in quite some time. Although his entire body still ached, and it still felt as though a lightsaber was piercing his head, he didn’t feel as muddled. He could still grasp the Force, and he traced his finger down the wall beside him, watching the cracks that appeared in its wake.

“Master?” he tried, pleased that his voice seemed to be clearer as well. He didn’t try sitting up yet – he felt better, but not that much better – but he turned his head to face the rest of the cell.

Obi-Wan’s face swam into view. “How are you feeling, Anakin?” No shadows, no empty cloaks. His Master was truly there – whatever he had seen before must have been a dream.

Anakin offered a one-shouldered shrug. “It still hurts, but I’m thinking better… I think.” He tried to smirk, but that hurt his face, so he just shrugged again. “Where are we?” He really didn’t remember much past the warning sirens that told them their ship was in trouble. It had become a common occurrence during the war, but very rarely had the outcome been something like this. He was a little chagrined at that, not even being able to stay conscious during his own crash-landing.

His master knelt beside the bed. “We’re on Tatooine,” he said, and Anakin felt a flicker of panic cut through him. How could they be on Tatooine? Unless his memory was even more faulty than he realized, they hadn’t been anywhere near Tatooine when the alarms had started.

“Tatooine?” he asked, hoping that he had misheard Obi-Wan. He didn’t want to be on Tatooine. He never, ever wanted to be on Tatooine. He'd thought after the mission to save Jabba's son, the first mission with Ahsoka by his side (gone now, he remembered, pain blossoming in his chest at the memory), that he would be free to never return to this Force-forsaken planet.

Obi-Wan nodded. “We were captured by a band of Tusken Raiders,” he replied grimly. “Something about… retribution for past wrongs. I don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Anakin’s stomach twisted violently. He had, wisely he thought, never told anyone but Supreme Chancellor Palpatine and Padmè about the slaughter of the Sand People, and now it looked like his actions and his silence were going to be his and Obi-Wan’s death sentence. It just wasn’t fair!

“I… I think I know, Master,” he stammered out. He needed to tell Obi-Wan. It might mean the difference between life and death, at least for the older man. Obi-Wan wasn’t called the Negotiator for nothing – if anything, he might be able to convince the Sand People that he was not associated with Anakin and would be set free. “The Sand People… they killed my mother.” His voice gained strength as the memory of his mother dying in his arms rushed through him. “And so… I… I couldn’t control myself.” This was much, much harder than he had expected it to be. Then again, what he had done had been in complete and utter violation of every aspect of the Jedi Code. Just one of many things, now, that he had done that could have him expelled, have him sent to the Citadel or worse.

“What happened to them?” Obi-Wan asked gently. Too gently, more gently than he deserved.

Anakin took a deep breath. “I killed them. I killed them all.”

-----

Obi-Wan blinked in utter shock at Anakin’s terse statement. He tried to think back in the conversation to the point it had ceased being about their imprisonment and had turned towards Anakin’s mother and the Sand People, but realized he wasn’t entirely sure. And what Anakin had said…

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I heard you correctly,” Obi-Wan sputtered, trying to make sense of it. “I thought I heard you say you killed an entire village of Sand People.” Surely Anakin couldn’t be serious. Surely this was just his old apprentice making a sick joke. Then again, Anakin wasn’t one to make light of his mother’s death. Could this be one of the reasons he’d been so withdrawn after returning from Naboo? Obi-Wan felt sick as he considered the implications.

Anakin swallowed heavily. “I killed them,” he repeated, his eyes glazing over.

Obi-Wan shook his head. It couldn’t be true. Anakin would never…

But the Jedi stopped himself. Would Anakin never? Is this what the Council had been talking about when they had said they’d sensed darkness in the supposed Chosen One? Was this the first manifestation of the darker side of his apprentice that was becoming more and more prominent as the war dragged on? No, no, Anakin was good - even if his actions sometimes bordered on the edge. But the Council. He was bound to inform the Council, if this were true, and if he did that, Anakin would be expelled from the Order. And if what Anakin had said WAS true, leaving the protective structure of the Jedi would be very dangerous.

It would also mean Obi-Wan would be cut off from the one person he had allowed himself to betray the Jedi Code for. He had allowed himself to become attached to Anakin, and as much as his training screamed against it, and as much as he strove to hide it from himself, hearing Anakin say those horrible words only made the realization more clear.

Anakin fell back on the bed with a sharp cry of pain, and Obi-Wan suddenly remembered the true depth of their plight. He had been so caught up in Anakin’s confession that he had lost focus, and since the young Jedi had seemed so lucid at the beginning of the conversation, Obi-Wan hadn’t even considered that Anakin hadn’t been in tune with reality.

A great wave of relief washed over Obi-Wan. Although he was afraid of what hallucinations might mean for Anakin, he felt better in the knowledge that what he had said was simply due to an effect of the Force-dampening drug. And no wonder the hallucinations were about his mother – after all, it had been a traumatic experience for him, compounded by the loss of his right arm. And now after Ahsoka's departure from the Order - Anakin was feeling the stinging talons of personal loss more acutely now, feelings previously thought buried bubbling up again.

Obi-Wan supposed it was a good thing Anakin was able to express his anger in this environment, without having to worry about the manipulations of the Force or the Council finding out about Anakin’s feelings towards the Sand People. If he had killed them in his hallucination, perhaps he was simply slaying his demons… A subconscious effort to set his mind at ease.

Even so, it pained Obi-Wan to see Anakin this way. He sat on the bed and brought Anakin partway onto his lap, holding him close and trying to stop the young man’s shaking. “Hush, Anakin,” he whispered. “It will be all right, I promise you.”

It was the first time Obi-Wan had made a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.

-----

Anakin was confused. Obi-Wan had hardly reacted at all to his confession, which made him wonder if Obi-Wan had even heard what he’d said. He had expected a lecture at the very least, a promise to remove him from the Order at the worst. But instead, Obi-Wan had gathered Anakin into his arms and said nothing. The young Jedi wondered if Obi-Wan was plotting his escape, and reached out with the Force to touch his old Master’s mind. What he found there was, amazingly and dishearteningly, fear.

Fear? When did Obi-Wan Kenobi start experiencing fear? Probing deeper, Anakin was staggered to discover that Obi-Wan’s fear wasn’t for his own safety, or of the Sand People who would surely take both their lives. Rather, the fear was for Anakin.

Anakin was used to members of the Council being afraid of him – the distinction of being the most powerful Jedi in history coupled with the prophecy of the Chosen One made him something of a pariah, even among his friends - what few he had, anyway. Never had anyone expressed fear for him. (He knew this wasn't entirely true, but the though still seared across his mind anyway). This realization sparked a fire in his chest that threatened to consume him, and he nestled in the warmth of Obi-Wan’s arms, trying to find some modicum of comfort there.

He had to save them, Anakin decided as Obi-Wan’s steady breathing began to lull him to sleep. He could deal with his own fear - he had been doing so for years - but he would not allow Obi-Wan to continue being fearful. He would save them both, and then he would make sure he never went anywhere near Tatooine again.

-----

Obi-Wan’s legs were beginning to cramp, but Anakin had fallen asleep in his arms, and the Jedi Master was loathe to interrupt the younger man’s rest simply because of his own discomfort. Instead, he focused his attention outward, struggling to connect with the Force, struggling to come up with some kind of plan of action.

Physically, he knew he could overpower the Witch when she returned. But she had the Dark Side as her ally (or if not the Dark Side, then the Force taking form as the primitive magics of the Nightsisters) and Obi-Wan had nothing with which to counter it. And he certainly didn’t want to do anything that would put Anakin in harm’s way – for his friend was in no shape to do battle, even if they weren’t cut off from the Force’s guiding light.

The door and Anakin’s eyes opened at the same time. Obi-Wan looked up to see the Witch, flanked by two others of her kind. The Witch was carrying a satchel, and one of her cronies closed and locked the door behind them. Obi-Wan glanced down at Anakin, who had closed his eyes again, feigning sleep. Obi-Wan had to wonder if his former Padawan had something foolish in mind, particularly if he thought these women were Sand People. While Anakin's foolhardy plans usually worked, Obi-Wan doubted his friend would be able to save the day this time.

“Hold out your arm, Jedi,” the lead Witch hissed, and Obi-Wan sighed. He had been so hoping they wouldn’t administer any more of the drug – he could feel the Force trying to break down the last barriers left from the first injection, but it wasn’t enough to fight with.

“Wait,” he heard Anakin whisper, almost imperceptibly. Sithspawn. There was a plan. He just didn’t know what it was, and he doubted if Anakin had a full grasp of it either. He was tempted to hold Anakin down to keep him from doing anything stupid, but then again, keeping Anakin from doing stupid things when he felt they were the right things was like trying to catch starlight between his fingers.

So Obi-Wan waited.

-----

Anakin knew the time to act was upon him. If they had any chance of getting out of this alive, he had to take this opportunity, despite the protestations of his body. He focused on the Unifying Force, letting himself forge a new identity in the swirling maelstrom of light and dark. He was Obi-Wan, he was the Sand People, he was this cell and this planet. He was the drug the leader was pulling from the satchel.

The drug. Without a conscious thought, Anakin knew exactly how they would survive. Letting the Force take away his pain and fatigue, he sprang to his feet, clenching his gloved mechanical hand into a fist in the direction of the Tusken with the bag. The Force snaked out of his arm and curled around the neck of the reprehensible monster that Anakin so hated. As he tightened his fist, the curls of Force tightened, and soon the Tusken Raider was on the floor, clutching at its throat. The other two looked at each other in confusion, and Anakin took that opening to snatch up the hypo-syringe and fill it with all of the drug contained in each of the four vials in the bag.

Anakin Skywalker was an artist of the Force, and this would be his masterpiece.

------

The bag fell open, the contents scattering across the floor, talismans that Obi-Wan recognized as those Mother Talzin had used and the drug vials scattering across the floor before Anakin pulled them to himself with the Force.

Obi-Wan couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He couldn’t even logically work out what it meant that Anakin had been able to choke the Witch from across the cell. All he could see was his friend rolling up his sleeve and pressing the hypo-syringe against the bare flesh of his arm. What was he doing? Dread welled up in Obi-Wan’s stomach, and he couldn’t keep himself from crying out. “Anakin! Don’t!”

Anakin turned to him as he pressed down, the quadruple-strength injection surging into his veins, his eyes shining strangely with unnameable power. “Don’t worry, Master. Just take cover.” His voice didn’t sound like Anakin’s (except it did, it sounded like Anakin under the sway of the Dark Side on Mortis, dark and menacing, reverberating as it did in the Arena on Mortis, reverberating the same way the Nightsisters' voices do) but Obi-Wan did as he was told.

The lead Witch had recovered from Anakin’s assault, and was advancing on the Jedi. “You foolish boy!” she screeched. “You think you are a match for the Nightsisters?” She held up her hands, and Obi-Wan shielded his eyes as lightning sprang from her fingertips towards Anakin.

Anakin simply stood calmly in the center of the cell, and raised his hands in reply. The lightning absorbed into his palms and shot out again from his flesh hand, striking the Nightsister in the chest and throwing her backwards. With his mechanical hand, Anakin reached out towards the other two Witches, clamping them both with the Force, cutting off their oxygen. Even without the ammunition provided by the head Witch’s onslaught, Anakin’s flesh hand continued to erupt with purple electricity.

Obi-Wan was glad he couldn’t see Anakin’s face. Even as powerful as Anakin was, no Jedi could produce Force lightning – not even Yoda. The only other person Obi-Wan had ever seen employ that skill had been Count Dooku – a Sith Lord. Surely the drug had simply amplified Anakin’s considerable power, surely this wasn’t a manifestation of the Dark Side in him. Obi-Wan wanted to ignore the memories of Mortis, wanted to pretend this wasn't happening. It was happening, though, and he couldn't escape from it.

“Do you think you are a match for me?” Anakin snarled back at the Witches, and with a strangled cry, he crushed their tracheas. The three bodies hit the floor simultaneously, and the lightning winked out. Anakin stumbled backwards a step or two, but quickly straightened and reached down into the satchel again, pulling out their lightsabers. Still facing away, he clipped his own to his belt.

Obi-Wan felt sick, dizzy, and horribly confused. “Anakin…” he started, but found he couldn’t form any more words. Anakin turned to him, and held out his hand. Obi-Wan grasped it, and allowed Anakin to haul him to his feet and hand him his ‘saber. This is wrong, his rational mind told him. Something is horribly wrong. The problem was, he couldn’t quite put his finger on why it was wrong - Anakin has used his power to help them escape, as he had countless times before.

“Are you hurt, Master?” Anakin asked, his voice husky and strained. He was shaking from head to foot, and a large purple bruise was forming under his right eye, beside his burn scar, the result of a burst blood vessel. Never had the sight of a bruise caused Obi-Wan to feel like he’d been kicked in the gut in quite the same way.

Instead of voicing his trepidations – after all, Anakin had been acting defensively, and this new surge of power in him was their one chance of escape – he touched Anakin’s cheek. “I’m fine. Can you open the door?”

Anakin grinned. “I can do better than that,” he replied. “You’d better hold on to me.” And impossibly, a wind began blowing in the small confines of the cell, surging into a tornado of incredible velocity, with Anakin and Obi-Wan at its eye. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and held on tight to Anakin, not wanting to see, not wanting to know what was happening.

With a thunderous crack, the walls exploded outward under the gale-force winds, and the roof shot upwards and away. When Obi-Wan felt the winds subside, he opened his eyes…

And found himself outside, the cell and the building housing it having completely disappeared from the foundation. He released his grip on Anakin and turned to face him. For his part, Anakin looked on the verge of physical collapse, but the fire in his eyes was glowing stronger than ever. With a confused expression, Anakin glanced at their surroundings. “This isn’t Tatooine…” he murmured, and shook his head.

Obi-Wan’s breath left him in a gasp as the Force broke through the final remnants of the drug. Once again, he could feel, and he could become. He reached out to Anakin through their bond, and winced at the heat radiating from the connection. It would not be wise, Obi-Wan realized, to maintain such close contact while Anakin was under the drug’s influence. The older man needed his wits about him, and had a feeling he would very quickly be overwhelmed by the strength of Anakin’s flame.

Amazingly, the talismans remained rooted to what was left of the stone floor, glowing with otherworldly power. One in particular caught Obi-Wan's attention; he could feel Ventress' unique Force-signature on it, roiling with dark energy. He considered picking it up, bringing it with them to examine, to determine how exactly it had brought them here, but he cast aside the thought. Bringing it with them would expose Anakin to even more unknown power, and Obi-Wan knew that would be a catastrophically bad idea. Some mysteries, Obi-Wan decided, were better left unsolved.

“The ship is this way,” Anakin said, walking quickly away from the ruins, towards an opening in the trees that Obi-Wan estimated to be about a kilometer away. He reached out and saw that Anakin was indeed right. The ship was there, but inoperable. When he told Anakin as much, Anakin simply turned to him, his lips twitching into a semblance of a smirk. “That’s why we need to hurry,” he said. “I don’t know how long this will last. And we need to get off this planet.”

That, at least, Obi-Wan could whole-heartedly agree with.

They advanced as quickly as they could through the dense undergrowth, but Anakin’s physical condition was deteriorating with each step. Twice already they’d had to stop so the overloaded young man could vomit. Obi-Wan, not for the first time, wished Anakin could have just left well enough alone. The drug overdose was allowing him more power than any Jedi could wish for, was allowing them to escape, but at what cost?

“Stop, stop, stop,” Anakin panted, and Obi-Wan slowed. Anakin was leaning against a tree, his hands on his knees. Obi-Wan wondered if it would be possible to simply sling Anakin over his shoulder for the duration of the hike, but quickly dismissed the idea. Anakin was certainly not going to admit to needing help, especially now that he could finally prove the extent of his powers.

Obi-Wan reached a hand towards Anakin’s back, noting with alarm that the dark cloak and tunic Anakin was wearing were both soaked through with sweat. Certainly the air was thick and humid, but it was not particularly warm, nor was their trek particularly difficult despite their attempts at speed. “Do you need to rest?” he asked, already knowing Anakin’s answer.

“No, I just… I need to catch my breath. If we don’t get to the ship before this… this… wears off, we’ll never get out of here.” He glanced up at Obi-Wan, and there was a flash of familiar humor in his eyes. “Don’t worry about me, Master.”

“Well, one of us has to,” Obi-Wan countered, and things felt almost normal. He was about to speak again when he heard something pounding through the forest. Something big. From the widening of his eyes, Obi-Wan knew that Anakin heard it too. Reaching out with the Force, Obi-Wan tried to sense what could possibly be coming, and he reached a solution just as the creature broke through the trees at the edge of the clearing they were in.

Anakin pushed himself away from the tree and stood in the center of the clearing. He raised one hand toward the towering rancor, and the creature paused, gazing at the two Jedi curiously. “She says she’ll help us,” Anakin told Obi-Wan softly, and before Obi-Wan could ask when Anakin had begun communicating with living things as well as machines, the rancor had picked them both up in her massive clawed hands and placed them on her knobby shoulders.

“Where are we, Master?” Anakin asked as the beast began loping through the forest. “I’ve only ever seen a rancor on Tatooine, and even then, it was less than half this one’s size.” He looked meaningfully at Obi-Wan. “And this is not Tatooine.” He seemed to be saying it mostly for his own benefit, Obi-Wan recognized.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Obi-Wan responded cagily. He did know, though, especially given the women they’d had to deal with, and now the rancor – the rancor that had followed Anakin’s mental commands without question. He didn't want to distract Anakin, though, would wait until the younger man could parse it out for himself on the ship.

Anakin eyed Obi-Wan curiously. “Well, what’s your suspicion?” he asked, and Obi-Wan felt a creeping sensation in his skull. “Dathomir?” Anakin made a noise that sounded halfway between a laugh and a cough. “Come on, Master. We were nowhere near Dathomir.”

“We were also nowhere near Tatooine, but you seemed quite convinced that it was possible to be there,” Obi-Wan reminded him, sending a pulse through their bond that said Please don’t root around in my head. It was bad enough, really, having seen the extent of Anakin’s new powers, but to feel it in his mind was something else entirely. For reasons Obi-Wan couldn’t completely grasp, he was beginning to become frightened. Anakin was frightening him, with his easy willingness to use his enhanced powers to such ends.

-----

Anakin tightened his grip on the rancor’s ridged back plates and closed his eyes, trying to will away the rolling nausea that had begun to plague him. He was having a difficult time differentiating real reality from the reality being molded by the Force. He could see all the threads tying everything together, and everything they passed took hold of him and entered his being. His vision blurred, and he wiped sweat out of his eyes. His burn scar and the bruise beside it throbbed with each beat of his heart, and his right arm ached violently where it was connected to the metal prosthetic.

And yet, the power. The lightning, the Force-storm… all of that had been child's play compared to what Anakin knew he could do now. If only they didn’t have to be anywhere, if only he didn’t have to waste his energy getting off this planet. He could make a difference with this kind of power. He would have to be listened to, with this kind of power. Certainly the ability to control the very galaxy outweighed physical discomfort.

-----

Many times over the course of Anakin’s training, Obi-Wan had felt uneasy, but never had he felt this near-overwhelming sense of dread. He wanted to believe that he was merely concerned for Anakin’s welfare, but it was something deeper than that, something… elusive.

It frustrated him that he couldn’t put his finger on what, exactly, it was about Anakin that was scaring him so badly, and it frustrated him more that he couldn’t seriously think about it without Anakin picking up on it.

As their mount crested the hill, Obi-Wan could see the glittering form of their ship, half-buried where it had crashed into the forest floor. His relief was so sudden and strong that he felt slightly lightheaded, and he shook off his dizziness as the rancor lifted him and Anakin off her massive shoulders.

Anakin turned and bowed unsteadily towards the rancor. “Thank you,” he said respectfully, and Obi-Wan wondered if this really was the first time he’d ever heard Anakin speak like that, to anyone.

The rancor bowed her head slightly in response, and took off into the forest again, leaving Obi-Wan and Anakin alone with their ruined starship. “So,” Obi-Wan said, approaching Anakin, “what now?” He put a hand on his former Padawan’s shoulder.

It was a mistake, a mistake he realized as soon as he made contact with the younger man.

Searing heat climbed up his arm and burst through his shields. Pain and desperation filled him completely, and Obi-Wan wondered distantly if this was what Anakin was feeling. He tried to sever the connection, but something was keeping him from doing so. He couldn’t think well enough – he was sluggish and confused, and the bond remained. He could practically see flames leaping from Anakin and into his own head.

With a slight grunt, Obi-Wan fell to his knees. Distantly, he heard Anakin’s voice asking what was wrong – as if he didn’t full well know. Instead of answering, though, Obi-Wan pitched forward into the dirt.

-----

Anakin stared in disbelief as his master fell to the ground. He looked up at the half of the ship that was visible above the trench it had dug, then down at Obi-Wan again. He had been expecting at least a little help in getting them off this god-forsaken planet.

But then again, he reflected bitterly, picking Obi-Wan up by the Force with a mere flick of his wrist, this was how it always went. Obi-Wan would get hurt, or kidnapped, or pass out for no apparent reason, and Anakin would be expected to perform a daring rescue. The Hero With No Fear had to live up to his title, didn’t he?

Frustration bubbled under Anakin’s skin, and his vision tunneled. He felt a surge of power, but he wasn’t sure what to do with it besides hope it lasted long enough for him to get the ship out of the ground.

He opened the hatch with the Force, and stormed up the ramp, pulling Obi-Wan along behind him, hovering just above the ground. Dropping the Jedi Master unceremoniously onto the deck, Anakin stalked into the cockpit, his discomfort and increasingly blurred vision only serving to fuel the fire of the Force that was keeping him upright and moving.

Sitting in the pilot’s chair and closing his eyes, Anakin focused on the dirt and debris covering the front end of the ship. He became the debris, the dirt, and the air, and with a shove backed by anger and pain, he backed the ship out of the trench it had dug for itself. Focusing with every fiber of his being, Anakin reached into the heart of the ship, manipulating the very molecules to seal bulkhead ruptures and kick-start the sublight engines. The craft lifted off the ground, and Anakin threw out a quick prayer to any deities that might exist, as well as to any of the Masters who might be around, that this plan would work.

It was too late to stop now. Under his expert hands and drug-enhanced powers, the ship rose quickly. The Force flipped on the communication systems, and Anakin spoke in a voice he didn’t recognize as his own. “To any Republic ships in contact range: this is General Anakin Skywalker. My ship is damaged and I need immediate assistance.”

There was a long pause, and Anakin was certain he’d been abandoned. They were ignoring him. They didn’t realize how serious this situation was, how close the ship was to falling apart around him, how close HE was to falling apart, how very, very alone he was.

“General Skywalker,” came the voice of one of the Republic clone troopers, the hologram of his armored figure flickering in and out of focus. “This is Commander Jace aboard the Freedom Republica. We’ll be in intercept range in five minutes.”

Anakin nodded blankly. Five minutes. Could he keep this up for five minutes? It seemed like an eternity. He could feel his grip on the ship’s innards weakening already, and the realization that he was going to be the cause of yet another person’s death knifed him. First his mother, and then he'd lost Ahsoka (she wasn't dead, but she may as well be for all he was allowed to try and look for her), now Obi-Wan. If he let go, Obi-Wan would die too, and Anakin would not let that happen, would not even consider it. What good was ultimate power if he couldn’t save the people he loved? Heart pounding, Anakin felt a surge of rage. Why couldn’t he do this? He was better than this – he was more powerful than this. He should be able to work through his weakness, overcome and be able to save both himself and Obi-Wan.

The rage added fuel to the fire, and Anakin suddenly realized the ship was holding itself together and he could see the Freedom Republica through the viewscreen. He had done it.

He had done it.

And with that breathless thought, Anakin slumped forward onto the control panel.

-----

Obi-Wan woke to stark whiteness. Turning his head, he saw a TC-class medical droid hovering in the doorway, carrying a tray of food. “General Kenobi,” it said in its pleasantly soothing tone, “how wonderful to have you awake. Please, eat.” The droid entered the room and set the tray on Obi-Wan’s bed.

Picking up the glass of water, Obi-Wan was suddenly struck by a silence in his bond with Anakin. Dread pierced him, and he nearly dropped the glass. Surely something couldn’t have happened to Anakin. If he was here, in a medical bay, Anakin must have gotten the ship off the ground, which meant he was fine.

Probably meditating, Obi-Wan told himself, knowing even as he thought it how ridiculous it was. Anakin hated meditation, and even when he did settle down enough to do it, Obi-Wan could always still sense his presence.

But, Obi-Wan thought, he would know if Anakin was dead. He remembered the searing pain he’d felt when his bond with Qui-Gon had been severed, and when he'd taken the vital and Force suppressors as Rako Hardeen, and there had been nothing like that. Unless, of course, he was still feeling the effects of whatever they’d been given. That couldn’t be the case, though, because he’d felt Anakin’s presence from the time of their escape right up until he’d lost consciousness.

“Where’s Anakin?” he asked, finally deciding he was too tired to argue with himself. Somehow he knew that he would have been woken sooner if Anakin were dead. Right?

The droid paused for a moment, and for a brief instant, Obi-Wan felt panic. “General Skywalker is recovering in the next room.” The droid turned and moved towards the door.

Relief washed over Obi-Wan. Anakin was alive… but why hadn’t the droid said anything else? Why weren’t they in the same room? “May I see him?” Obi-Wan called after the droid, swinging his legs off the bed.

“When he is ready,” the droid responded, and whirred away.

-----

I will train…
Clouded this boy’s futu
You’ll be…. Of all Jedi…
even stars die out
not all power all powerful
I truly deeply love deeply love you
stop the suns
Stop the suns from setting

-----

Tired of lying in bed waiting to be released, Obi-Wan decided to take matters into his own hands. Pulling his robe around him, he walked out of his room into the main medical area. Reaching with the Force, he tried to sense Anakin’s presence, but all he got back was a confused whisper.

“General Kenobi, you should be resting,” the medical droid admonished, floating over to him. Obi-Wan waved his hand dismissively. He wasn’t worried about himself.

“I must see Anakin,” he insisted, leaning close in to the droid, making sure it understood exactly what would happen if he was kept from his former apprentice. His desire to see his friend was bordering on overwhelming, and he struggled to control his emotions. He was better than this, wasn't he? Wasn't he simply acting in exactly the way he'd chastised Anakin for so many times?

The medical droid seemed to realize its very existence was at stake, and gestured for Obi-Wan to follow it. It buzzed down a long corridor, Obi-Wan trailing behind, growing more and more apprehensive with each step. Reaching a door at the far end of the corridor, the droid punched in a security code.

“His body is still detoxifying itself. He is restrained for his own safety.”

Obi-Wan almost laughed. Traditional restraints would be useless against Anakin, especially considering what it was his body was ridding itself of. “Thank you,” he said, shaking his head and brushing by the droid.

The room was smaller than the one Obi-Wan had woken up in, and already he could see signs of Anakin’s increased power. The medical equipment had folded in on itself, and there were cracks in the mirror on the far wall. Unsurprisingly, Anakin had freed himself from the restraints, but for the moment seemed to be asleep.

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan breathed, and approached the side of the bed, probing carefully with the Force. Still nothing but the whisper, but at least now he could see Anakin, could touch him. He brushed his fingers over Anakin’s cheek, taking care not to be too rough against the bruises.

Anakin nestled his face against Obi-Wan’s hand, and slept on.

-----

Obi-Wan had given the Council report himself. He still didn't have an answer as to how they'd ended up so far off-course (visions of Mortis clouded his mind), nor did he have an explanation as to Anakin's reaction to the Force suppressor.

He left out Anakin's use of Force lightning, the choking, and the terrible sound of his voice in the throes of the drug. He left out Anakin's confession about the Tusken Raiders (because it might not be real - it likely was not real).

He'd wanted answers, but the Council seemed willing to chalk it up to the will of the Force, something they did with increasing frequency as the war dragged on. He merely bowed and returned to the med-bay, where Anakin was still recovering.

"Well?" Anakin asked as Obi-Wan entered the room. "What did they say?"

"How are you feeling?" Obi-Wan side-stepped the question. He didn't want to get in another fight with Anakin about the Council's inaction, not today.

Anakin shrugged. "I have a headache," he admitted. "And the Force feels really quiet." He waved his hand and a nondescript piece of medical equipment raised in the air. "Kind of nice, though," he mused. "For a change. I... did you feel it? Back there?" He frowned slightly. "It felt like..."

Obi-Wan didn't say it, but he knew Anakin could tell he was thinking it. That it felt like Mortis, like the Arena, like the Well of the Dark Side, except Anakin had been in control of his powers there. On Dathomir, there had been no control, and nothing to reign him in. The implications were staggering, but Obi-Wan knew better than to dwell on them. He hoped Anakin knew better as well.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said instead of any of that, and it was for so many things. Anakin's current condition, the stress the young man was under, the changes he had undergone, the fact Obi-Wan was afraid when the war was over, his friend wouldn't even be the same person anymore. He was sorry for all of it, but couldn't fix it - and he was sorry for that too.

"It's okay," Anakin replied, gesturing Obi-Wan closer. "Just keep me company, would you? It's boring here."

Obi-Wan settled into the chair beside Anakin's bed, ready to do spend as much time as he needed, until Anakin was ready to move on.

NEW FIC: I See the Moon, the Moon Sees Me

2013-06-18T20:01:50Z

title I See the Moon, the Moon Sees Me</b>
author patientalien
rated PG-13
summary Anakin changes his behavior in an attempt to be "good". The outcome is not particularly positive.
notes The title and basic plot are shamelessly ripped from an episode of American Dad. Anakin is Roger, natch. Thanks to citizenjess for her suggestions and awesomeness.

It was the third consecutive morning of Obi-Wan having to clean vomit out of his boots and he was getting a little tired of it. "I know we're on leave," he told Anakin that third morning over breakfast - Anakin was almost face-down in his eggs, but Obi-Wan was going to do this anyway because fuck Anakin, seriously. "But I would appreciate it if you would find somewhere besides my shoes to projectile-vomit when you come home."

"Boots're next to the door," Anakin replied. "It's the will of the Force." He sounded entirely unapologetic, which Obi-Wan supposed was nothing new, but it was still frustrating.

"Damn it, Anakin," he said, finally snapping. "I am tired of this behavior. You are an adult with a Padawan of your own now and it's high time you started acting like it!" He rose from the table, several weeks' (and months' and years'...)-worth of frustration boiling up inside of him.

For his part, Anakin merely blinked at him, looking confused. "But Master..."

"No!" Obi-Wan exclaimed. "Don't you 'but Master' me again, Anakin. I am done dealing with your childish behavior! You want to be treated like an adult, you want to become a Jedi Master, you need to start kriffing acting like it!" For all he scolded and reprimanded, this was sharper, somehow, and seemed to cut Anakin to the core if his trembling lower lip was any indication. "I'm going to go visit with Bail for a few days," Obi-Wan announced, deciding he didn't want to deal with the fallout of this. "I expect you to meditate on this. I'm sure you won't, though."

Before Anakin could protest, Obi-Wan took his leave, but not before upending Anakin's plate of eggs onto the floor with the Force. "JUDICIOUS FORCE-USAGE!" Anakin yelled at Obi-Wan's retreating back.

-----

Obi-Wan returned from Alderaan three days later, feeling refreshed and having almost entirely forgotten his blow up at his former apprentice, mostly due to the always-enjoyable "attachments" he partook in with Bail Organa. The first evening he'd been there, Anakin had called four or five times, culminating in a shouting match over the comm about boundaries and former Padawans who really needed to mind their own business. After Anakin whined at him for the tenth time about wanting him to come home, obi-Wan had calmly and purposefully dropped his commlink into his glass of brandy and went about his business.

All of that came rushing back upon entering the apartment, though, where he found not the remnants of a weekend's worth of unsupervised-Anakin, but by sparkling cleanliness and top-notch organization. Everything was put away and polished, the carpets were vacuumed, and a gentle floral scent wafted through the air.

His first thought was that Anakin had died. That fear (or maybe relief?) was waylaid, though, by Anakin hesitantly emerging from his bedroom and inching towards him. "Welcome back, Master," he said contritely, giving him a low, deferential bow.

Obi-Wan raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Thank you?" he said carefully, eyebrow raising even further as Anakin dutifully bereft him of his travel bag and cloak, neatly hanging the latter on the hook by the door with nary a smidgen of inappropriate Force-use.

"I hope you had a good time," Anakin continued pleasantly, opening Obi-Wan's bag and beginning the process of unpacking its contents. Obi-Wan had never seen him do more than upend his own travel bag onto the floor for "sorting out later".

Going into the kitchen for an opportunity to regroup from the altogether unsettling scene in the living room, Obi-Wan called, "Are you feeling all right, Anakin?"

"Of course, Master!" Anakin chirped back. "Never better!"

"High as a kite," Obi-Wan muttered to himself as he prepared a cup of tea. "Kriffing hells."

-----

As it turned out, Anakin had not been high at all that day, unless, Obi-Wan thought ruefully a week later and without any change in Anakin's deferential, obedient, and entirely uncharacteristic behavior, he was simply on an extended bender. It wasn't impossible, but it was hard to deny that he wasn't at least nominally taking advantage of this New And Improved Anakin Skywalker.

"Would you mind shining Master's boots?" he asked one day the following week, waggling his feet in Anakin's direction.

Anakin grinned at him, not the kind of sneaky 'I'm going to do something shitty now' grin he usually had, but a genuine 'I'm glad to help you, my beloved Master' grin. "I'm glad you help you, my beloved Master!" he exclaimed, dropping to his knees and beginning to shine Obi-Wan's boots with the kind of gusto he usually reserved for barely-consented-to blow-jobs.

If Anakin's movements were a little more sluggish than usual, Obi-Wan didn't notice, because his former apprentice then consented to giving him a platonic but extremely enjoyable backrub.

-----

"Master Obi-Wan, I need to talk to you!"

Obi-Wan looked up from his datapad, painstakingly re-organized and updated with all new software by Anakin, to see Ahsoka Tano standing in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest and a 'Can you believe this bullshit?' look on her face. "Yes, Padawan?" he queried, setting the 'pad aside.

Ahsoka let out a puff of air. "I need you to talk to Skyguy," she announced. "He's acting really weird."

Obi-Wan tilted his head. "Oh?" In point of fact, he'd grown rather used to Anakin's new persona, though admittedly sometimes the younger man's dutiful obedience and tendency to follow him around like an eager Nekk puppy became a bit bothersome.

She nodded. "He's trying to actually TEACH me stuff," she complained. "He's always hanging around trying to get me to spar with him or help me with my homework. He says he wants to be a better Master or something, and it's REALLY annoying." Her hands went to her hips. "I've done just fine training myself, and now he's ruining everything!"

"Oh dear," Obi-Wan muttered. He had assumed Anakin's behavioral shift had extended only to their interactions; he hadn't realized Anakin was subjecting his poor long-suffering apprentice to it as well.

"AND!" Ahsoka continued, undaunted, "I think there's just something really wrong with him. I mean, have you SEEN him lately?"

Admittedly, Obi-Wan hadn't. Well, he had, but his time was being taken up by Council meetings and having Anakin make him dinner and do the laundry. "I'm afraid I haven't," he said instead of explaining all of that.

"He's like lost a lot of weight and he's all pale and stuff," Ahsoka informed him, which basically did nothing but confirm Obi-Wan's original suspicion of "extended bender". Still, if Ahsoka was bringing this to his attention, he supposed it warranted an investigation and, if necessary, another kriffing intervention.

"I can tell you're concerned," Obi-Wan said. "Let's go talk to him together." He rose from his chair.

"I think he's in the Archives. He said he had to do some research for our next mission," the girl informed him.

Obi-Wan blinked. This was obviously more serious than anyone could have suspected. "I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered.

-----

Sure enough, they found Anakin in the Archives, bent over one of the terminals along its central room, looking intently at whatever was on the screen. He didn't seem to sense their presence behind him, so Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Ahem."

Anakin coughed into the crook of his flesh arm and turned to them, a smile lighting up his face. Well, normally it would light up his face, but Obi-Wan had to admit Ahsoka had been correct in her assessment of Anakin's physical well-being. He was pale, his normally golden skin nearly a sickly gray, dark bags under his dull, sunken eyes and flesh pulled taut over bones that normally were padded with a healthy layer of muscle. "Master!" Anakin exclaimed, and his voice sounded like he'd spent the day swallowing sandpaper. Not that Anakin realistically would get anywhere near anything with "sand" in the name, of course.

"Wow, you look like shit, Skyguy," Ahsoka announced, having learned the majority of her diplomacy skills from Anakin.

Anakin blinked at them. "I'm sorry," he said. "I haven't been feeling my best lately, but I am endeavoring not to let it affect my ability to perform my duties to their utmost."

Obi-Wan was getting pretty tired of raising his eyebrows over this whole situation. It seemed along with whatever else was going on, Anakin's vocabulary had improved dramatically. "Anakin, let's talk in private," he said, motioning for them convene in one of the Archive's private rooms - not THE private room, of course, that would be inappropriate given the current circumstances - but one of the study rooms set aside for quiet contemplation of the generations of knowledge amassed within the chamber.

"Of course, Master," Anakin said, standing. "My wish is only to serve and please you." And he promptly passed out.

-----

The Healers could find no medical reason for Anakin's condition, though they did rule out Obi-Wan's original theory that this entire episode was drug-induced, mentioning with some concern that it seemed like his very midichlorians were dying.

"I'm so sorry, Master," Anakin croaked from the bed. "I did not wish to cause you any inconvenience." He coughed violently and grew even paler, if such a thing were possible.

Obi-Wan thought back over the past few weeks to try and pinpoint when this all had started, trying to figure out some clue that might help his friend. After a long moment, he said, "Anakin, does this have to do with what I said before I left for Alderaan?"

Anakin gasped for air. "I didn't want you to be mad at me anymore," he admitted. "I thought if I was good, you would keep loving me."

Oh, attachment, the usual suspect. A theory was beginning to form in Obi-Wan's mind. A crazy theory, to be sure, but the only one that made any kind of sense. Not much was known about Anakin's physiology as the Chosen One. His high midichlorian count made him resistant to most illness and he recovered from injuries faster than most, but what if the symbiants in his blood fed on something besides the Light side of the Force?

What if... "I'll be right back," Obi-Wan said quickly, running back to their quarters and returning fifteen minutes later with a bottle of Ithorian Mist. "Here," he said, thrusting the bottle in Anakin's directly.

Anakin blinked at him weakly. "No liquor shall ever touch my lips again," he said, and began to shake.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan prodded, "Don't you think the Council is wrong for not making you a Jedi Master?"

"They will recognize me when I am ready," Anakin countered, curling onto his side and vomiting onto the floor.

Ahsoka seemed to be catching onto Obi-Wan's train of thought. "Master," she said, "Don't you think it's ridiculous how orange I am?"

"You are just as the Force made you, and you are beautiful." Anakin's nose began bleeding. "At least you'll know... in the end... I was good."

"ANAKIN!" Obi-Wan shouted, finally fed up with his former apprentice's complete inability to understand what was happening - though he was much more dutiful now, he was just as dense, it seemed. "Your midichlorians are dying because they do not have any balance within you! You cannot be only Light or only Dark, you must be able to combine those two parts of you in order for them - and you - to survive!"

"Please, Master," Ahsoka pleaded, dropping to her knees and clasping her hands in front of her in supplication. "Say something shitty about someone!"

"But..." Anakin looked conflicted, weakly turning his gaze from Ahsoka to Obi-Wan.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, clasping his former apprentice's thin, clammy flesh hand in his own. "I beg you. You were driving everyone crazy, anyway, and I would rather you be alive."

"Just try it, Master," Ahsoka prompted. "Please?"

Anakin cleared his throat and looked at her with barely-focused eyes. "Stop whining, Snips," he said. "You sound like a baby nexu." His eyes opened a little wider. "And you, Master," he continued, his attention now on Obi-Wan, "You couldn't keep up with me even with me like this. I'd still end up carrying you." Some color returned to his cheeks.

"The Council needs to get its collective head out of its collective ass and just make me a Master already!" Anakin continued, sitting up in the bed. "I'm the most powerful Jedi ever, and everyone keeps holding me back!" He Force-crushed a piece of expensive-looking medical equipment and jumped out of the bed, already looking healthier than he had in weeks.

"Your 'saber technique is atrocious," he told Ahsoka. Swinging around to Obi-Wan, he said, "You have gray hair and crow's feet." He grabbed the bottle from Obi-Wan's hand and took a deep swig, making a noise of pleasure. "I'm ten times the Jedi either of you are!"

With that statement, Obi-Wan promptly punched him in the jaw.

Anakin stared at him in disbelief, a hand pressed against his face. "But Master, I thought you said..."

"I want you to be yourself, Anakin," Obi-Wan replied, shaking his now-sore hand, "but that does not mean I do not reserve the right to correct you where I deem necessary."

"BURN!" Ahsoka crowed, and she and Obi-Wan fist-bumped in triumph.

-the end-

NEW FIC: i've got a hunger and i can't seem to get full

2013-06-15T20:16:48Z

titlei've got a hunger and i can't seem to get full
author patientalien
rating M
summary Granta Omega decides on revenge.
notes This is a companion pieces to citizenjess' I Want a Boy Who's So Drunk He Doesn't Talk. Read mine first; it takes place about two years prior. As a warning, the second fic contains graphic rape/non-con and underage elements.

He will never be his father. He wants to think he has come to terms with it, but when Zan Arbor tells him to bring her a Jedi, he knows exactly which one to choose. It’s not a matter of raw power, or of any special skill in the Force. It is a matter of his father, and his father’s honor, and making sure that the De Crion name will no longer be tarnished. He begins his search for Obi-Wan Kenobi because he is not his father. He begins his search for Obi-Wan Kenobi because it is what his father would have wanted. Granta Omega is invisible in the Force, but he will still emerge triumphant.

*****

Tracking Obi-Wan Kenobi is not difficult. He does not leave the Temple too often these days, a young teen Padawan holding him there. Omega learns his patterns, his behaviors, his routines. He does not make himself known - it is easy because he is a non-entity. There is nothing that can be done to detect him, so he slips through the shadows.

*****

He begins to make his plan. A distress call in the Outer Rim, just the kind of mission the Jedi would send a Master-Padawan team to investigate. He waits.

*****

Zan Arbor is getting irritated with how long it is taking, says she just needs a Jedi - any Jedi - but he knows he cannot be satisfied with just any Jedi. He must have Kenobi. He must make Kenobi feel his pain. He is not his father, but his father's anger rages inside him, giving form to his desires. He will have Kenobi, and Zan Arbor will just have to wait.

*****

Kenobi is nothing like he has imagined. Having heard the name in fervent whispers from his father's lips for so many years, he is expecting someone with more... presence. The man who appears before him is not the overpowering Forcefullness he has come to expect. Instead, he is reserved and quiet, with an air of command but a command he comes by only reluctantly. Omega realizes that this may be more difficult than previously anticipated.

*****

His presence is masked within the Force, not due to any special device or illusion, but nature itself. He is a black hole where his father had been a supernova. He is a master of disguise, and it is not as though he is known to the Jedi. Kenobi and the Padawan come to him as guileless as a newborn shaak, trusting and open and so willing to help. He guides them so effortlessly, so completely seamlessly. They never see it coming, and it makes his victory so much richer.

*****

The gas is odorless, tasteless, and invisible and it's over before either of them even realize what's happening. Once the air in the room has been cycled, he removes his rebreather. Kenobi and the Padawan have fallen near each other, almost touching. Kneeling down beside Kenobi, he allows himself a touch - one touch - one finger trailing down the Jedi's cheek and across his lips. It is perfection.

*****

The Jedi wake fairly quickly, and he is ready for them. Ignoring the Padawan's indignant yelp, he chains them to the wall, letting his hands roam perhaps too freely over Kenobi's body as he ensures the strength of the bonds. Kenobi struggles, of course, but with a Force inhibitor collar around his and the mouthy Padawan's necks, there is little he can do.

*****

It is interesting how worked up the Padawan gets every time he touches Kenobi. Sometimes it is insults. Sometimes it is frantic pulling on his restraints. Sometimes it is nothing but a glower. Still, the Padawan is of little interest. Not like Kenobi. Kenobi, who asks why he is doing this, what he could possibly hope to accomplish. Omega knows what he wants to accomplish, but Kenobi is not worthy of the explanation. No, he will find out when the time comes.

*****

He leaves the Padawan behind, taking Kenobi down from the wall and leading him into a side room. Kenobi does not flinch from his touch, but he does not give in, either. The result is unsatisfying yet exhilerating and Omega knows it is time to finish his father's good work.

*****

He wants to see what will happen. He wants to test a theory, before he ends the charade. Returning Kenobi to the room and lashing him to a chair in its center, he takes the Jedi's lightsaber and ignites it. The power he feels with it in his hands is staggering, but this is not a feeling that is meant for him. He knows this. But the Padawan doesn't, and neither does Kenobi. He slides the blade up so it is nearly touching Kenobi's exposed neck. "Beg me," he tells the Padawan. "Beg me for his life."

To his surprise, the Padawan does, throwing himself prostrate before Omega. "Please don't hurt him," he pleads. He bows his head, presenting the back of his neck. "Take me instead. Just don't hurt him." It's a noble gesture, but Omega has his mind made up.

*****

He lays the saber against the side of Kenobi's neck, relishing the scene of burning flesh and Kenobi's sharp intake of air. The Padawan is furious now, pulling on his chains and screaming. His chains snap, the lights explode outwards, the very foundation of the building seems to want to shake down to the ground. It is the Padawan's doing, he realizes, and is startled to discover that he has underestimated the child. The danger and a distinct sense of self-preservation over-weighs his desire for revenge. This time, anyway. He watches as the Padawan supports Kenobi to a standing position, summoning their lightsabers to him. "We will meet again," he says as they leave. The chase, after all, can be just as satisfying as the finish line.

*****

The boy is the key, he thinks after they are gone and he is alone brooding over how close he had come. The boy would need to be brought low in order for Kenobi to become his. He knows it will take time to ensure the next time his plan goes without a hitch, but Granta Omega is nothing if not patient. He is, after all, his father's son.

NEW FIC: Not Asking to be Saved

2013-06-05T01:10:32Z

title Not Asking to be Saved
author patientalien
rating M
warning(s) Graphic imagery, character death
summary AU - how the battle on Mustafar could have ended. Written for a prompt from citizenjess on tumblr.

“It’s over, Anakin! I have the high ground!” As if his words will change anything. As if by stating the obvious, Darth Vader will surrender. But he knows Vader better than that, and even in his right mind (which he assuredly is NOT), Vader is not a man who surrenders easily. Even when all odds are against him, he perseveres. And, Obi-Wan recalls with some concern, usually succeeds.

But this is a move Vader has never mastered. This is something that, while they have drilled it in the training salles (“What are your options when your opponent has higher ground than you, my Padawan?”), Vader has never successfully completed the task. He has never needed to.

And now that he does have to, now that his very survival hinges on this one moment, his arrogance once again blinds him to the truth. “You underestimate my power!” he calls up at Obi-Wan, eyes flashing lava.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, ‘saber at the ready, not sure what he’s going to do when Vader inevitably comes towards him. “Don’t try it,” he attempts.

There is a surge in the Force, a gathering of power - Vader is drawing it into himself, wrapping it around himself, curling it under like a coiled spring, to give him the needed lift and momentum and… Obi-Wan acts.

He has only heard of mou kei in theory. A “forbidden” tactic, a killing blow, total dismemberment of one’s opponent. Despite having no practical experience, he knows as Vader’s remaining flesh limbs part company with the rest of his body that what he has done could be called mou kei. But it isn’t, not truly, because Vader isn’t dead. His body hits the scorching ash of the lava river’s shore hard enough to break bones and slides down, Vader’s mechanical hand scrabbling to find purchase to keep himself from tumbling all the way into the lava flow.

Obi-Wan winces at the inhuman groaning emanating from Vader’s throat, but it is not his fault this has happened. “You were the Chosen One!” he bellows, imbuing his words with all of the pain and betrayal he has felt since first seeing Anakin kneel before his new Master. “It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not JOIN them!” His breath hitches. “Bring balance to the Force! Not leave it in DARKNESS!”

They stare at each other, Anakin’s eyes pleading for something… release, perhaps? But then - “I HATE YOU!” tears from his cracked lips, fueled by pain and rage. The pleading in his eyes is replaced by blind fury.

Obi-Wan turns to walk away, his foot hitting what he believes is a rock at first, but quickly realizes is Anakin’s lightsaber. He picks it up, turning it over in his hand. This is not Anakin’s first lightsaber, or even his second, but he remembers the pride he felt on Illum when Anakin found his first crystal. The sense of accomplishment when Anakin earned his first merit bead for his ‘saber technique. The upswell of uncharacteristic pleasure when Cin Drallig personally commended Anakin on his abilities with a blade. And, more recently, the sense of safety and absolute trust he felt when he and Anakin were back-to-back in the battlefield, protecting each other, watching over one another. “You were my brother, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, shaking his head. “I loved you.”

Anakin looks up at him, silent now, but then an ember catches his clothes alight and he screams anew, flames licking up what is left of his body, incinerating hair and peeling skin from bone. Obi-Wan nearly gags at both the sight and the smell of it, but finds he cannot look away as Anakin - yes, it is Anakin - howls in agony.

It is not the Jedi way to let another being suffer. It is not the Jedi way to use mou kai against an unstable opponent. It is not the Jedi way to wish pain on one who has caused so much of it himself. And yet Obi-Wan allows the fire to burn out before he skids down the embankment. He can sense Palpatine’s slippery Force-presence, knows he should flee while he still can, but incredibly, Anakin is still breathing.

The young man’s eyes flick open, red and raw, but unmistakably Anakin. His hair has been burnt away, his flesh nothing but char. Obi-Wan knows he must still be in pain, but most of the burns are deep enough to have destroyed nerve endings. It is grotesque, one of the most gruesome sights Obi-Wan has ever seen. And it is his friend. What is left of his friend. “Master…” Anakin rasps out past seared vocal cords, his breath coming in rattling, wheezing gasps. “Please… Help me…”

The heat from the river is almost unbearable, and Obi-Wan would very much like to blame the sulfur fumes for the tears in his eyes. There is no help for Anakin now; that he is still alive, let alone conscious and speaking, is nothing short of a testament to his true power in the Force. Still, even with that incredible power, there is no recovering from this. The Force will not regenerate limbs, or skin, or damaged lung tissue. The Force will not turn back time and bring back the Younglings, or any of the other beings Anakin has slaughtered in the name of the Sith. Obi-Wan almost leaves him to his fate on that basis alone, but Anakin’s mechno-arm has grabbed onto Obi-Wan’s boot, and he is peering up at him beseechingly. “Help.”

He is not asking to be saved, Obi-Wan realizes. For all his rash actions, for all the madness, for all of the gut-wrenching horror that is their current shared reality, Anakin knows the extent of his injuries. He is not asking for Obi-Wan to spare his life.

And this - this small kindness - seems almost out of reach for Obi-Wan. But he is a Jedi. And he is Anakin’s brother. He lowers himself down onto the ashes and gently - so gently, pulls Anakin into his lap. He can no longer run fingers through Anakin’s unruly hair, so he lays a hand on Anakin’s brow. “A long time ago, there was a brave Jedi Knight,” he says softly, “sent to save a beautiful Queen.” He weaves the story deftly, trying to channel the Force to ease Anakin’s pain as he does so.

As the story progresses, Anakin’s breathing evens slightly, but he does not take his eyes from Obi-Wan’s. “It seemed like evil won,” Obi-Wan continues, “But good will always triumph, even for those who have lost all hope.”

Anakin nods slightly. His tear ducts have melted shut, but Obi-Wan’s cheeks are damp enough for the both of them. “I love you, Anakin,” he says, and presses a kiss to Anakin’s forehead as he slides his lightsaber against his brother’s chest. Anakin gasps, the blade leaping out from his heart, and falls back into Obi-Wan’s arms.

It takes many long, agonized moments, for Obi-Wan to stand, to gather Anakin’s body into his arms, for the long journey back to the ship, to safety, and to an empty future.

NEW FIC: Trust

2013-06-05T01:07:18Z

title Trust
author patientalien
rating T
summary Obi-Wan ruminates during the "Deception" arc of TCW. Written for a prompt from citizenjess on tumblr.

He is not entirely sure which Jedi will be sent to arrest Rako Hardeen at first, but then Windu informs him via their encrypted comm-link that it will be Anakin and Obi-Wan feels his stomach clench. He knew this could have been a possibility. After all, it is Anakin’s reactions that have sold the entire ruse. Having Anakin be the one to apprehend Obi-Wan Kenobi’s killer is simply the icing on the cake; no one will doubt the veracity of ‘Hardeen’s’ claims if it is Kenobi’s own former apprentice who brings him in.

Still, this is a dangerous game they are playing. He sensed Anakin’s distress, even through the vital suppressor. Knew, too, the devestation felt by his dearest friend. And Anakin is nothing if not predictable in his unpredictability. He knows that this could end up being the end of the whole ploy; Anakin could very well kill him where he stands before he can even get close to Moralo Eval.

Obi-Wan breathes out, heavily, the harsh feel and sound of Rako Hardeen still disconcerting. “Well,” he says to the empty room, “may as well get into character.” He heads out to the bar.

——-

If he is honest with himself, he would admit that the reason he’d really had so much to drink was not so he would make a convincing drunk, but because being thrown around the room by an enraged Anakin Skywalker kriffing hurt and he’d wanted to dull the pain as much as possible. Besides, if he was about to be killed by his best friend, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be lucid for it. He’s not so drunk, though, that he gives up his cover, and he’s plenty sober enough to see the pain in Anakin’s eyes, hear the tense edge to his voice. He can’t bring himself to look Anakin in the eye so he rolls his own around in their sockets, trying to avoid acknowledging how much Anakin is shaking.

It is not until he has been handed over to the prison guards - Anakin promising to come ‘straighten him out’ if needed - that he allows himself to recognize that likely the only reason he is still alive is the fact Anakin had Ahsoka with him.

——-

He knows that it is Anakin simply by the way the other ship is bobbing and weaving about his; no other pilot in the galaxy is so bantha-headed as to try half of those maneuvers. His suspicions are confirmed when Anakin lands on the nose of Obi-Wan’s ship, lightsaber out and singing. He can’t make out Anakin’s face, but he recognizes his friend nonetheless.

When the ships finally crash - Ahsoka does not have the finesse in the pilot’s seat that her Master does - Obi-Wan is terrified that Anakin has been killed by the impact, even moreso than he is of the idea of facing Anakin in combat. Because he knows now this is where the day is heading - if Anakin is still alive, and isn’t badly injured, that is.

He risks a brief fling of the Force in the general direction Anakin’s body sailed. Still alive, he can tell, and Anakin’s Force-presence is coming in his direction. Even with the advance preparation, Obi-wan is ill-prepared for the nearly ninety kilograms of unbridled fury that slams into him from the side.

It hasn’t been more than a few days since Obi-Wan’s ‘death’, but Anakin looks like he hasn’t slept for any of them. His face is gaunt and shadowed, and his entire body is trembling; he looks like a wild, feral creature, and it is then Obi-Wan realizes that even if he survives this and can go back to being Obi-Wan Kenobi, what he has done to Anakin is unforgivable. He allows Anakin to get a few good shots in, in penance, but then it becomes clear that Anakin has no intention of letting him off the moon alive. He knows what would happen were Anakin to kill him - not to the plan, to the Chancellor, to the Jedi, but to ANAKIN - so he does the only thing he really can do. Before Anakin succumbs to the choke hold - and to sleep he obviously desperately needs, Obi-Wan allows himself to plant the seed of doubt in Anakin’s mind. The Council will have to tell him the truth now.

He wishes “better late than never” were a valid platitude in this case, but it is not.

——-

The next time he sees Anakin is on Naboo, and his friend is being electrocuted by the bounty hunter Derrown. He only had the one shot in his sniper rifle, so he is left to shout a warning to Windu through the comm and watch helplessly as Anakin falls to the ground, twitching.

Despite the setback, they are able to rescue the Chancellor and he is able to be face to face with Anakin as himself (though still with Rako Hardeen’s face) for the first time since the whole thing began. Anakin is, as expected, unhappy, even moreso when Obi-Wan admits his part in the very personal deception. Anakin stalks away while Obi-Wan mulls over his friend’s angry words.

——-

He realizes, too late, that Anakin is right. By the time he catches up with the younger man, Anakin is engaged in lightsaber dual with Count Dooku. Though Anakin seems better-rested than the last time Obi-Wan saw him fight, he is still off-balance, his emotions roiling too close to the surface, the way Obi-Wan is terrified will be Anakin’s downfall one day.

Not today, though, he vows, glad to have grabbed his own lightsaber from Windu after the Chancellor’s rescue. Anakin’s focus is shot, and Dooku manages to catch him with a swath of Force-lightning, a hundred times more painful and damaging than anything Derrown could have done. Anakin barely allows himself a moment to recover before sprinting after Dooku’s retreating form, Obi-Wan keeping pace not a hairs’-breadth behind. They will do this together, because they are a Team.

And the look Anakin gives him when it is all over, when the Chancellor is safe and Dooku has escaped once again, tells Obi-Wan that, despite being fractured, despite being a little broken, the Team is still intact.

It does not save him from a tantrum later, but for the time being, it is enough.

NEW FIC: "A Thank You"

2013-06-05T01:04:09Z

title A Thank You
authorpatientalien
rating M-ish
summary Anakin is Knighted. Written for a prompt from citizenjess on tumblr. References to the Tartakovsky Clone Wars animated series.

They stand there for a long moment, staring at one another. Obi-Wan watches Anakin’s hand touch his right ear, where not hours before a braid had grazed soft skin. Already he has pulled the rest of his hair from the traditional ponytail, eager to cast off the trappings of his apprenticeship. Obi-Wan is surprised he is even here, really, so ready had the boy been to move towards Knighthood - and away from Obi-Wan.

“I thought you’d be out celebrating,” Obi-Wan says, busying himself with putting a discarded cloak - Anakin’s - away. Anakin crosses the room with three heavy footfalls and puts his hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders, spinning him around until they are once again facing each other. Before Obi-Wan can ask what he is doing, Anakin’s hands find their way to Obi-Wan’s face, gripping it firmly and pulling him forward, their lips crashing together unceremoniously.

It is several long moments before what is happening registers enough for Obi-Wan to push him away. “What was that for?” he demands, not angry, simply curious and perhaps a little taken aback.

Anakin, for his part, does not seem the least bit ashamed of his actions. He rarely does, Obi-Wan knows, but his bravado is even more unabashed than usual. “It’s not forbidden anymore,” he informs Obi-Wan, “because I’m not your Padawan anymore.”

As usual, Anakin has misunderstood the lessons Obi-Wan had tried to impart all those nights when the boy had come into his bed, trying to experience something Obi-Wan was not willing to give. “It was not because you were my Padawan,” he retorts, “it is because attachments…”

“Yes, yes,” Anakin snaps, waving a hand dismissively. “But we both know that’s bantha hork.” Obi-Wan has about thirty replies lined up in his head by the time Anakin adds, “I just wanted to thank you.”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. Gratitude is not something he had expected, especially with Anakin’s assumption that the only one who believed he should be Knighted was Anakin himself. “Oh?” he says, drawing his arms across his chest. “Is that so? And you think smashing your face into mine is a good way of going about doing that?”

“No,” Anakin responds, sliding his tabbards off his shoulders and stripping off his outer tunic. He drops to his knees in front of Obi-Wan and looks up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “I think this is.”

Obi-Wan has to admit, it is a very good thank-you.

NEW FIC: In the Space Where Your Brain and Your Heart Collide

2013-05-19T23:15:51Z

title In the Space Where Your Brain and Your Heart Collide
author patientalien
rating PG-13
summary Obi-Wan recovers from Zigoola in fits and starts, and Anakin and Bail follow along.
notes citizenjess wanted a post-Zigoola fic, so, uh, here it is. A 50-sentence fic written mostly during Star Wars Weekends. Title is from "Berlin" by Amanda Palmer.

#01 - Comfort

Obi-Wan is only vaguely aware of being picked up and carried down the ramp of Padme's ship, but the strong arms encircling him are decidedly familiar and Obi-Wan leans into the comforting warmth of Anakin's embrace.

#02 - Kiss

He feels soft lips pressed against his forehead; they are pulled away abruptly as the sound of an unhappy Healer's voice admonishes the owner of said lips to get out of the way.

#03 - Soft

The blanket he is under rubs against his skin unpleasantly - it's not a rough blanket, he knows, but he wonders if he will ever be able to experience its true soft texture again (or maybe he has been irreparably damaged).

#04 - Pain

The pain feels like it will never end, creeping past his shields and ripping him apart at the seams; he tries not to scream and it comes out in a pained whimper - it is the feeling of helplessness he hates the most.

#05 - Potatoes

The only solid food he feels like eating is mashed tuber roots; Anakin brings them up from the Temple commissary and watches him eat, face pinched, with faraway eyes.

#06 - Rain

His first night back in their apartment is host to one of Coruscant's infrequent storms - the rolling thunder and rain slapping against the windows remind him all too vividly of other things.

#07 - Chocolate

Anakin flits around the apartment as if he is walking on eggshells, uncertain in a way he has never been, and Obi-Wan offers him the dessert from his lunch just to get him to sit down for five minutes.

#08 - Happiness

Happiness has never been something he has actively sought, but now that he feels like he will never experience it again he finds himself missing it.

#09 - Telephone

News travels fast in the Temple, a vicious game of Holophone; by the time the rumors get back to him, they have morphed into something that doesn't even remotely resemble the truth.

#10 - Ears

He doesn't want to hear Anakin rail against Bail Organa; once the younger man broke his nervous silence all he can talk about is how if only he had been there and Bail is to blame - it tires him, and he tunes it out.

#11 - Name

He is Obi-Wan Kenobi; he knows this as he knows anything else - he is a Jedi regardless of how he feels deep down so he pushes all other thoughts aside.

#12 - Sensual

The first time he sees Bail again, he is embarrassed; the man knows too much, has seen into inner workings of his mind that no-one (not Qui-Gon, not Anakin, not even Yoda) could possibly know - it is too intimate and he turns away.

#13 - Death

He can sense Anakin's distress through the Force; the younger man is dreaming of death again, screaming in his sleep, agonized - Obi-Wan knows that it is his death causing the pain, and he raises his shields.

#14 - Sex

Anakin traces the burn scar on Obi-Wan's leg, snarling "Bail did this to you" as Obi-Wan frowns, protests.

#15 - Touch

The moment is lost; Anakin is angry now, demanding Obi-Wan talk to him, pushing him into the pillows as if holding him there will get him to talk.

#16 - Weakness

He is a Jedi, he is better than this, and he does not want to rehash the past with Anakin, who is always so unable to move beyond it.

#17 - Tears

Anakin's eyes are prickling with angry tears as he accuses Obi-Wan of lying to him, of taking kriffing Organa's side, as if his furious words will make Obi-Wan change his mind.

#18 - Speed

For the first time since the explosion, Obi-Wan takes a citybike out for a ride, easing it slowly through the winding traffic, well below the normal speed limit.

#19 - Wind

At the top of the Temple spire the wind howls, but his mind is quiet.

#20 - Freedom

It is liberating, in a strange way, to shut Anakin out of this; Zigoola was something for him (and Bail) alone.

#21 - Life

Life goes on, but Anakin dwells, even as Obi-Wan tries to forget, but the memory of darkness fills his thoughts at inopportune times.

#22 - Jealousy

"So you'll talk to Organa about this but not me?" Anakin demands, in fact downright snarls, and he looks like he wants the universe to end and Obi-Wan thinks that he does not want his friend to hurt - he does this for Anakin, not for himself, as always, as usual.

#23 - Hands

Anakin's hands, flesh and durasteel, roam Obi-Wan's body, taking in the newest collection of scars - he hisses when he reaches the burn on Obi-Wan's leg, and Obi-Wan almost jerks away.

#24 - Taste

He allows Anakin to kiss him hungrily, tasting some tart juice and a tang of alcohol and mint toothpaste; he falls into it.

#25 - Devotion

"I can help you," Anakin announces decisively; Obi-Wan still has not mentioned the crippling headaches, but Anakin is not that unobservant, so Obi-Wan assumes he knows.

#26 - Forever

This one feels like it has lasted, and will last, forever, the pain like a living thing that creeps behind Obi-Wan's eyes, squeezing out all that he has ever been.

#27 - Blood

His nose starts bleeding, and suddenly Anakin is at his side; he is saying something, but Obi-Wan's can't quite make out the words.

#28 - Sickness

Anakin's hand is on his forehead; the boy is not a Healer but he still siphons the sickness and pain from Obi-Wan into himself - he cannot release it into the Force quick enough to prevent himself from feeling the effects, and eventually he drops to the floor.

#29 - Melody

It is like a choir singing, the pain gone for the first time since he has returned from Zigoola - he had forgotten what it felt like without it.

#30 - Star

"Are you okay?" are Anakin's first words upon waking, and Obi-Wan winces; Anakin should not be using his star-bright gifts in such a manner.

#31 - Home

Bail Organa's apartment does not feel quite like home, but it does feel somewhat comfortable; at least, it used to.

#32 - Confusion

He is not sure why he is shying away from Bail; they have been friends for ages, it seems, and their shared experience on Zigoola should have brought them closer together.

#33 - Fear

He realizes abruptly that it is because he fears what Bail now knows about him, what that could mean for himself, his position as a Jedi; what happened on Zigoola was out of his control, but Bail now knows the depths of his heart, and that terrifies him - and he thinks he has known this all along.

#34 - Lightning/Thunder

Obi-Wan can tell Anakin is foregoing sleep again; the lightning-quick peaks and valleys of his moods a dead giveaway (and Obi-Wan knows this time it is because of him).

#35 - Bonds

Obi-Wan knows he has formed bonds with others, bonds not easily broken even though he has pushed those others away, because he fears the impact Zigoola has had on his ability to feel anything at all.

#36 - Market

"I'm going to get some food," Anakin announces, stumbling slightly in his exhaustion; Obi-Wan sucks in a breath, pushes his headache to the furthest reaches of his consciousness, and offers to join him.

#37 - Technology

Anakin comes up with some kind of sensor-cap to help with the headaches, soothing pulses against Obi-Wan's skull simulating Anakin's own presence within the Force; it still isn't the same and it still hurts, but he refuses to allow Anakin to subject himself to the pain again and he refuses to see the Healers (he will make do).

#38 - Gift

"A gift for you," Bail says, and presents Obi-Wan a beautifully intricate moss-painting, a peace offering, a plea to return back to normal.

#39 - Smile

He smiles, then, truly and widely and for the first time since even before Zigoola.

#40 - Innocence

Anakin pretends not to know where the moss-painting comes from or the reason behind it, but the glittering sharpness in his eyes says otherwise.

#41 - Completion

It takes him months to be able to finish a full meditation session without reliving the horrible waking nightmare; the first time he does so is in Anakin's presence and the power of it brings him nearly to tears.

#42 - Clouds

There are no clouds in Coruscant's atmosphere to speak of, but the hundreds of thousands of speeders and starships leave chem-trails that mimic cloud cover; Obi-Wan stands on the roof of the Temple spire and follows them.

#43 - Sky

"Skyguy was beside himself," Ahsoka informs him over tea; he is not surprised by the words but rather the depth of feeling she injects into them, the obvious care she has for her new Master.

#44 - Heaven

The first night he spends with Bail without nightmares and without panic is the first night he is truly able to say he is feeling better.

#45 - Hell

The following night is spent with Anakin, rubbing the younger man's back as he screams in his sleep.

#46 - Sun

Now that he can say he is recovering - no, recovered, certainly - it feels good to leave the Temple from time to time; not for too long, don't want to overdo it, but the sun feels good on his skin and the fresh air does him some even greater good.

#47 - Moon

But he is not recovered, knows he never truly will be no matter how much he insists otherwise, no matter how much he reassures Anakin over and over; he cannot recover from Zigoola and he no longer hopes to.

#48 - Waves

Anakin's consciousness is coming in waves; the Healers say he has exhausted himself and Obi-Wan realizes his lack of headaches the past few days has a definite, very human cause.

#49 - Hair

He sits at Anakin's beside and strokes his hair, mentally preparing the lecture he will be delivering as soon as his former apprentice awakes.

#50 - Supernova

Zigoola will leave a mark on Obi-Wan for the rest of his life; he knows this, accepts it, but he is a Jedi and he will move on because it is his duty, and his love for his duty burns brighter than any supernova.

NEW FIC: Mighty Max: "A Mistake Too Great to Hide"

2013-02-08T00:10:14Z

title A Mistake Too Great to Hide
author patientalien
rating PG
summary Virgil remembers
Notes I've owed citizenjess a fic for like 8 months now. This is a late/early birthday/Christmas/Valentine's day gift for her. ♥ Title and cut-text from "New Divide" by Linkin Park.

It wasn't always like this. The history is not one he would share with the current Mighty One, not yet anyway. He knows the bits and pieces, the small things. He doesn't know - cannot know - the rest. The pain and the failure are things Virgil does not wish to pass on to his young charge. There will be a time to share the story, but now is not the time.

The Mighty One does not need to know that his most bitter enemy was once a man. Before the monster, before the Underworld, Skullmaster had been... human. A particularly driven human, a human gifted with the talents needed to manipulate the Lemurian magics, but a human nonetheless.

Sometimes, in moments of weakness, Virgil remembers. Nearly ten thousand years is a long time to hold memories, but he is long-lived, he is capable of pulling them up from the recesses of his mind, turn them over, wonder on the what-ifs. Nearly ten thousand years ago, he had met a man, an Atlantean, come to Lemuria to learn and study. Atlantis was new, then, compared to the Motherland of Mu, more focused on scientific advancedment and less on the scholarly, less on the arcane magic. Those considered worthy were sent to Lemuria, and Skullmaster - though that was not his name, then - came.

Virgil remembers, too, his calling. While others of his kind were adventurous, seeking to explore and spread their advancements throughout what was, then, a sparsely-populated globe, Virgil preferred the books, the scrolls, the prophecies. He had never been excited by the idea of adventure - such an irony, now. But he could teach, he could impart wisdom. He was chosen to be among those who trained the Atlanteans who came to their shores.

Skullmaster - not his name, then, and his name is lost to time and grief - had impressed him during the readiness period, the choosing of the pupils. He chose Skullmaster, saw in him the desire, and the talents.

He taught as much as he could, and perhaps taught too much. Skullmaster, or who he was then, soaked it up and made it into his own. Virgil didn't see then what his friend - for that is what they were - was. For he knows now that Skullmaster did not turn evil, that the darkness had always been there, and he had been fooled.

His foolishness cost him everything. He will never tell the Mighty One how Lemuria fell. Even Norman does not know the depths of it, was called too late to be a part of what happened, and Virgil can never say the words. He will never be able to say, clearly, to another, "It was my fault." He thinks it often, and it is the driving force behind his steadfast reliance on the prophecies. He must defeat Skullmaster. The Mighty One must triumph.

Lemuria's destruction, brought on by Virgil's blindness and Skullmaster's machinations, was sudden. Much like Atlantis years and years later, Skullmaster manipulated and used the Arcana against them. It was over in a matter of hours, and in the end Virgil was left. Virgil and, of course, Skullmaster.

He will never know how he came to be spared. He is sure it is not due to any sort of good will from Skullmaster's part. He had, after all, only acted in the role of friend and student. In his darkest moments he wonders if it was meant to be punishment, a cruel reminder that he is the last of his kind.

Using the magic learned from the now-destroyed civilizations, Skullmaster transformed himself. He was still a man when he harnessed the souls of Atlantis; they recognized him as one of them, trusted him, saw him as a wise advisor. After that, whatever soul he himself may have once possessed hardened; he used his power to build himself up as a monster, a being of absolute power, a being that was feared. He did not just want to be loved as a ruler of Earth - he wanted obedience, he wanted the fear, and the fear made him grow and change.

The Mighty One does not need to know how Virgil came to discover the prophecy in which he himself is so deeply entrenched. He does not need to know how Virgil cast aside his grief and the all-encompassing loneliness of being the last to find the first Mighty One.

The Cosmic Cap was different then, too, but Virgil forged it himself using the most ancient of Lemurian magic. Such things were never his strength, but circumstances as they were, he had little choice. He found the first Mighty One, Maximus, who was more than happy to take up arms against the creature who had enslaved the world.

He had lost Maximus, as he had lost Lemuria. As he had failed Atlantis. He does not allow the losses to show, in front of Max and Norman, he does not think of the past, or tries not to. What matters now is the prophecy; what matters now is Max's destiny.

He tries not to think about how he could have made anything different. Skullmaster would have found his power one way or another; Virgil's involvement was an unfortunate coincidence. That's what he tells himself, and that's what he will say if he ever does have to tell the story.

He will never truly believe it. Ten thousand years is a long time to remember, but Virgil will keep the memories safe until destiny sets him free.

NEW FIC: The Pieces Don't Fit Together

2012-12-10T00:34:37Z

title The Pieces Don't Fit Together
author patientalien
Rating PG
Word Count 3493
Summary Rex observes his General; all is not well. Written for the substance abuse prompt on my hc_bingo card. Title and cut-text from "Astronaut" by the Dresden Dolls.
Warning Substance abuse

There's the sense that something is wrong with General Skywalker. No one says it, of course. It would be insubordination, and besides the General has always been a little different from the other Jedi military leaders. Clone Captain Rex can understand that, even respect it.

They joke about it - "Last one home buys the drinks, and three more for the General." Skywalker takes it in stride, laughs along with them, doesn't seem at all bothered; it's good-natured fun, all of it. The celebrations after the victories, dealing with the losses, and the adrenaline and whatever strange wonderful thing that flows through Skywalker's blood that makes him a Jedi, makes him super-human. Rex isn't in a position to stop any of it, but he's not sure it needs stopping. It seems, if not normal, then somewhat normal, and nothing bad is happening - nothing besides the normal defeats in the war, anyway.

They're coming down from another battle - a victory, this time. Rex is cataloging the casualties and lost equipment with the quartermaster and Fives. Across the square, Commander Tano is scrubbing the dirt off her and the General's astromechs. General Skywalker is, for now, nowhere to be found. Rex catches Ahsoka raise her head every so often out of the corner of his eye - she's looking for her Master, and trying not to be obvious about it.

Soon enough, General Skywalker comes through he center of the square, hefting two jugs filled with some brown liquid in his hands. "Leave it to the General," Fives snorts, loud enough for Skywalker to hear. The General shrugs and hands off one of the jugs.

"For when you're done," he says. "You did a great job today. The Seppies'll think twice before trying something else in this sector." He always goes out of his way to say something encouraging, regardless of the outcome. And he was out in the fray with them; there are so many reasons they follow this man besides the Kaminoan conditioning. "We're heading back to Coruscant in the morning, unless orders change," he adds, which certainly goes a ways in explaining his chipper mood. Skywalker may think he is mysterious and sneaky, but Rex has been trained to read body language, and Skywalker is always happiest on Coruscant.

"Thank you, Sir," Fives replies, accepting the proffered vessel and gesturing at the one still firmly grasped in Skywalker's hand. "All for you, huh, General?"

Skywalker laughs. "Get back to work," he replies, sauntering towards his apprentice. Rex frowns at his retreating back, uncertainly uncomfortable for a moment. He can't place why, so he turns his attention back to Coric, Fives, and the task at hand.

00000

General Skywalker isn't at the morning briefing the next day. His Padawan is instead, going over the previous day's battle and their plans to get underway to the capital. She does not make any excuses or give any explanations for the General's absence in front of the rest of the men, but Rex pulls her aside afterward. "Nice briefing," he comments.

"It's easier when nobody's around to interrupt me," she replies, referring to her Master's impressive ability to make her briefings into his briefings. "If you need something from Master Anakin, I'm sure he'll be on the bridge later. I think he was just... he needed the sleep."

And because it's just the two of them now, nobody makes a joke. Rex isn't sure what to say, exactly, either, since no one has come right out and said it out loud and he's not sure how much she sees. "Like I said, it was a good briefing, Li'l One," he replies, and she beams, still able to find happiness in small pleasures - like the acknowledgement of a job well done. He feels bad for her, but doesn't say anything as they both go back about their business.

00000

When they're on Coruscant, Rex's path doesn't tend to cross with the Jedi he serves with. They are at the Temple, he is in the barracks, and so it is nearly a week before he sees Ahsoka and Skywalker again. They are arguing on the launch deck of the Resolute, all big arm movements and raised voices. Rex hangs back; he does not want to eavesdrop but it is difficult not to overhear. "So you WANT Obi-Wan to take over this mission?" Skywalker is demanding of her.

"That's NOT what I'm saying!" she snaps back. "I just said I was glad to have his company! Force, you are being SO ridiculous!"

"I can't believe you don't TRUST me!" he shouts, whirling around and throwing his hands up.

She storms after him. "I can't believe you don't LISTEN!" she retorts sharply. Before things can get more heated, Rex clears his throat and approaches them, saluting crisply. The argument immediately dies down as they try to pretend nothing is wrong. "Good to see you, Rex," Ahsoka says with a smile.

"Hey Rex," Skywalker echoes, face tight. Rex decides not to notice that the General's hands are shaking. "We're briefing in thirty." He shoots Rex a wild grin. "The Seps are amassing a fleet near Sullust." A space battle, then, which means they have a distinct tactical edge, especially if the Seppies don't know they're coming.

He wants to ask followup questions, but decides to wait until the briefing. He gets the feeling he won't have the General's full attention otherwise. He lets them pull him into a different topic, their argument seemingly forgotten.

00000

The briefing goes smoothly, though General Skywalker seems tense with the presence of General Kenobi and some of the 212th. Rex finds this odd; usually, Skywalker welcomes his former Master's presence on missions. After the briefing is over, Rex goes to the docking bay to oversee the fighter prep. He knows it's something Skywalker does, but something tells him to go down there too.

When he arrives, the docking back is nominally empty - it's early yet and they're some hours out from Sullust. He sees Skywalker, a dark brown smudge stretched out across the wing of his bright yellow Delta-6 starfighter. Watches the General raise a flask to his lips, lower it, repeat. Rex wishes he were wearing his helmet.

Skywalker finally spots him and he shoves the flask into a pouch on his belt. He swings his legs over the side of his fighter's wing and waits for Rex to approach. The Captain does, eventually, weighing his options and saluting. "Hey Rex!" Skywalker grins, hopping down from his perch, putting a supporting hand against the fighter to keep his balance as he lands. Nothing out of the ordinary here.

"Thought I'd come down and help with the prep, Sir," Rex replies. It's not that he doesn't trust his General, he tells himself. It's not that he doesn't think everything is just as fine as it always is. Anakin Skywalker can handle himself.

Anakin gives him one of his lopsided grins. "Well thanks, Rex," he says. "I was gonna adjust the stabilizers for Gold Squadron, you can help if you want."

The ARC-170 fighters stretch in uniform rows down the docking bay, Skywalker's Delta-6 at the head. Rex assumes the stablizers in the Six have already been adjusted as far as they can go. Sure enough they start at the next in the line - Hardcase's fighter, his kills marked out on the nose in firm hashmarks.

They work in relative silence. Anakin hums to himself absently as he works, words of the song occasionally breaking through. It's not something Rex has seen him do before.

They work their way down the line. Rex decides to ignore how many times he has to pointedly redirect Anakin's focus. They are adjusting the stabilizers, not cleaning the intakes or dismantling the shield generators. Skywalker seems embarrassed, but laughs it off. "If I had time, I'd strip down the whole fleet," he says. Rex doesn't doubt it - what he does doubt is Anakin's ability to put it all back together again.

00000

They defeat the Separatist fleet at Sullust, but not without heavy losses. A good half of the fighters Rex had helped work on earlier in the day do not make it back to the Resolute. He gives himself a moment to mourn his brothers, and then works on the reports, walking up and down the rows, tallying damage.

He hears Skywalker's voice ring through the docking bay. "I said I was FINE!"

Rex swallows and busies himself elsewhere until he knows he is alone again.

00000

They're on leave on some backwater moon. Well, sort-of leave. There are no battles to fight for the moment; they are in a holding pattern until their next orders come in. Rex suspects they'll be sent to the Outer Rim this time - reports indicate major Separatist movement along some of the trading routes, and he doubts the 501st will be waylaid for long with that going on.

He's sitting in a bar with the rest of Torrent Company, nursing an ale and watching. Ahsoka is sitting beside him, wary, shifting uncomfortably. "This place smells," she comments. She doesn't just mean the bar; the whole moon has a particular rank odor that makes Rex grateful for helmet filters.

"The locals don't seem to mind," Rex replies.

"The locals seem too drunk to notice," Ahsoka points out glumly, resting her chin in her hand. "Like some other people I know."

Rex raises an eyebrow at her. "Now then, Commander," he says, deciding she is sort-of joking and matching her tone. "You couldn't possibly mean General Skywalker."

"I heard my name!" The aforementioned General Skywalker has plonked himself into the empty chair beside Rex, his drink sloshing over the side of the glass. "It's not nice to talk about people behind their backs, y'know."

"Then we'll just talk about you to your face," Ahsoka responds shortly. "We were talking about how excessive drinking effects cognitive functions like sense of smell." She wrinkles her nose for emphasis.

"Well, I know it smells like bantha farts here, so obviously you're not referring to my cognitive functions," Anakin retorts, slugging down half his drink. "C'mon, Snips, lighten up."

Ahsoka bristles and Rex kind of wishes he was somewhere else. He's never comfortable when the two Jedi have any kind of serious discussion; always feels like he's intruding. But Skywalker hasn't ordered him to leave, so he has to stay. "You're impossible," she snaps.

Skywalker shrugs, stands, swaying only slightly. "You're funny," he says and swaggers away. Ahsoka scowls, and Rex frowns into his ale.

00000

Rex loses track of the General after a while. Finally he gets bored enough to leave; Ahsoka has gone back to their makeshift barracks already and he doesn't feel like talking about battle with any of his brothers. He's always been a little different that way; he loves his brothers and the camaraderie they have, but tonight he is tired.

He makes his way out into the cool night air, wishing he had his bucket to filter some of the stinking air. Someone is in the alley beside the bar, retching into the mud. Rex thinks about just walking by, but the figure seems to be in distress, and if he's learned anything in his time with the 501st, it's not to leave anyone behind - or at the very least, not to leave without helping where he can.

"M' a kriffin' Jedi..." the figure is slurring to himself, and Rex snaps to attention, not that Skywalker is in any condition to notice.

"Sir?" he ventures, taking a few steps closer. "General, are you alright?" SKywalker retches again, liquid splattering against the stone wall, the dirt of the alley.

"M' fine." He stumbles sideways, slams against the wall.

Rex steels himself. "With all due respect, Sir," he says, hooking an arm around Anakin's waist and hoisting him upright, "You don't seem fine." Skywalker tilts, but Rex manages to keep them both on their feet. "Let's go back to the barracks."

Anakin shakes his head. "Don' wanna," he says, perilously close to whining. He gags, head tilting back. As they manuever out into the waning light in the main street, Rex can see Skywalker's eyes - they're unfocused, swimming. "Obi-Wan's gonna, he'll jus' le..." He gulps. "Lecture me."

Rex doesn't know what to say to that besides the fact he thinks maybe General Kenobi needs to do just that. He knows better than to say it out loud, though. "You need to sleep this off, General," he says instead.

Anakin shudders, and Rex is afraid he's going to hit the ground again. Somehow they manage to make it back to the barracks, and while Rex is grateful for that, he wishes Skywalker could be a little quieter. He's saying something about Coruscant, or the history of the Republic, or starship engineering - Rex can't quite follow the train of thought - loudly, exuberantly.

Fives and Hardcase appear in the hallway and Rex is embarrassed for his General - it's one thing for him to see this, but for the rest of the men to see it (and not just one time), it's different. It changes things, however subtly. "Good thing the Republic picks up the tab," Fives snorts, leveraging himself under Anakin's other arm to help Rex balance better.

"Fives!" Even in this state, Skywalker can still tell them apart, which has always surprised and slightly impressed Rex. "Fives, tell 'em..." He trails off, eyes sliding closed, head lolling.

Hardcase takes the lead, peering around corners, making sure the coast is clear. They're all but dragging Anakin now, and Rex is glad when they finally get to the General's quarters. Fives lowers him onto the bed and Rex pulls off his boots, rolling him onto his side.

The three leave quietly, nothing said amongst them. None of them mention it again - this was not something they were meant to see.

00000

"You look terrible."

Rex decides to pretend he's not eavesdropping as General Kenobi places a hand on Skywalker's shoulder. Sure enough, they are on their way to the Outer Rim, and Rex is glad Kenobi is with them. Skywalker's behavior is growing erratic, and it's starting to be difficult to pretend not to notice. The men have started to talk, and in more than the joking way they had before. Rex does his best to squash the gossip, but it's hard when he sees the same things they do - and, sometimes, more.

"I appreciate the compliment," Anakin replies, pulling away. "But don't you have a briefing to get ready for?" He sounds defensive, shifty.

General Kenobi clears his throat. "Are you okay?" he asks. "Ahsoka..."

"Whatever Ahsoka's been saying is probably over-exaggerated," Anakin says. "I'm completely fine. Just ready for this kriffing war to be over."

Rex stands completely silent when Kenobi says, so softly, so concerned, "Please don't lie to me."

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

00000

They're captured. Not by the Separatists, but by local insurgents who think having a Jedi and a Clone as bargaining chips will help them gain control of a civil war. Bereft of weapons, Ysalimari in the corners of their cell to inhibit Skywalker's powers, they sit and wait.

"Well, this is stupid," Anakin comments, testing the give of the cell door, seeing how high he can jump without the use of the Force, trying to reach the creatures in the rafters keeping him from harnessing the power.

Rex decides it's better not to point out that it was Anakin's lack of focus that landed them here. It won't do any good anyway, he knows his energy is better spent working out a means of escape. He scans the perimeter of the room, looking for any weakness. Across from him, Anakin wipes sweat from his brow and suppresses a shiver. "Are you alright, Sir?" he asks.

Anakin glances at him sharply. "I'm fine," he replies, "It's cold in here." It's not, though, and Anakin is wearing his thick robes. Rex frowns inwardly. Anakin picks up one of the bowls their captors had used to feed them earlier and hefts it, taking aim and throwing it towards the ceiling. It clatters down; he has missed his target spectacularly. He begins pacing.

00000

Their cell has a 'fresher attached. Rex is somewhat surprised by this, but grateful when Anakin gets violently ill on the second day. Rex has some medical training and does his best to keep Skywalker comfortable, but he has no medicines and no idea what is wrong. "Call them for help," Skywalker gasps out, huddled on the floor. "We'll overpower 'em."

Rex supposes if they get out of the cell and Anakin gets his powers back, they just might be able to do just that. He wonders if it is being cut off from the Force that is causing Anakin's sickness, but doesn't ask. Instead, he pounds on the cell door.

00000

Anakin does not allow Coric to examine him once they are back on the Resolute. Despite the lingering illness, the pallor and the shaking, he instead locks himself up in his own quarters.

When he emerges again, some hours later, it is like night and day. "Just needed some sleep," he tells Rex on the bridge. "Musta been a bug or something. All better now." Ahsoka frowns at this, and Rex decides not to think about Anakin's cure.

00000

The rumors die down, the jokes and the banter slowly peter out. Anakin's behavior is on an upswing, all manic energy and daredevil plans. He's social, friendly, charismatic and engaging. No one ever mentions how he was for that short time. Rex thinks it, though, and he knows Ahsoka does too. She's waiting for the other boot to drop, and he gets the feeling she knows more than she lets on.

He catches her in the mess hall one night, coming off third watch. She's brooding over something, worried. He considers them friends, so he goes to her. "What's the word, Li'l 'Un?" he asks, sitting across from her as she pokes at her mashed tubers.

She frowns, headtails twitching. "I can't talk about it," she says sullenly. "Sorry, Rex." And she truly sounds sorry; Rex knows she probably doesn't have anyone else to turn to. The Jedi wouldn't hear of it, and she'd be afraid of censure. To talk to Rex or any of the other men would be insubordination. Rex decides that Ahsoka probably is feeling very alone.

He simply stays where he is, sitting there, until she speaks again. "He thinks I don't notice," she says after a long moment, putting her fork down. "And just because he's not open about it anymore doesn't mean... He just feels different, after, and I'm just afraid..." She swallows. "I don't know what to do."

Rex almost suggests involving General Kenobi, but he is sure Ahsoka has already thought of that solution and discarded it for whatever reason. "I don't know," he says after a long moment. And he doesn't, really - this is not something Clones are susceptible to, at least not in his experience. They're human, after all, so it's possible, but he's never seen it happen and Clones can be sent back to Kamino for reconditioning anyway. Jedi don't have that option, and he has no doubt Skywalker would never count anything he's doing as a problem. "Have you tried talking to him about it?" He realizes none of them have ever said anything to his face about it in anything more than a joking manner. He probably thinks he's been getting away with it.

Ahsoka shakes her head slightly, eyes cast towards the table. "No," she admits. "He wouldn't listen to me anyway."

00000

Even without Ahsoka or Rex going to him, General Kenobi gets involved. Rex supposes the man knows Skywalker better than anyone, so he has probably recognized the changes himself. And besides, Kenobi has never been shy about putting the younger Jedi in his place.

Rex has a feeling neither of them realize he's there, because the conversation they are having is painfully personal. And General Kenobi says, "Let us help you."

And General Skywalker snaps, "I don't need help."

And General Kenobi replies, "I'm not giving you a choice. I love you, Anakin. I cannot see you continue down this path."

Skywalker's voice breaks. "I can't..."

"You are so much stronger than this, Anakin. Please."

And then there is silence and Rex shows himself out.

00000

General Skywalker is escorted off the Resolute by Healer Offee, headed... somewhere. The men talk. The rumor is a facility on Belderone, but Rex cuts off that line of thinking. It doesn't matter where their General is. What matters is their own mission, and Ahsoka is more than capable of leading them.

She leads, and Rex follows, until the order comes through and it all goes to hell.

NEW FIC: from some lost and distant shore

2012-11-07T02:58:35Z

title from some lost and distant shore
author patientalien
rating R
word count 1580
summary Anakin doesn't know who he is anymore.
notes In the "Without Granting Innocence" universe. AU post-RotS. Title and cut-text from "Hymn for the Missing" by Red. I strongly recommed this video by SweetLadyBat on Youtube, btw.
warning(s) Very bleak material ahead, might be triggering for SI, depression, PTSD, suicide, substance abuse, character death, etc.

------

Every so often, he feels strong enough to take a shower. The scalding water flows down his back and he closes his eyes, letting the tears disappear into the spray. He can't control when that happens anymore. Sometimes he'll just be sitting on the windowsill, or reading on the few occasions he can keep the words from swimming around, and the tears will come, hot and insistent, silently dripping down his face until Obi-Wan comes and wipes them away. The thought of Obi-Wan twists his gut, and the tears fall harder, silently - no sobs or cries anymore - as he manages to wash himself, wincing as the soap hits the fresh wounds on his arm. He considers adding to their number as he shaves, but he has a ritual, and he doesn't want to ruin this brief moment of clarity of thought.

And then he is back on Jabiim. The rain slams against his body and the fear and grief are so overwhelming he drops to his knees in the mud. He cradles a fellow Padawan's body close to him, hears the Clones shouting in the distance, his braid hanging heavy over his ear. Explosions ring over his head and he can hear the orders to retreat and his name repeated over and over...

And when he comes back to himself, he is wrapped in blankets on the sofa and Obi-Wan is peering at him critically, warily, like he is some kind of injured wild animal who might strike at any moment. He supposes he is, which is not a particularly comforting thought. "Where did you go?" Obi-Wan asks, handing him a mug of tea.

"Jabiim," Anakin manages, sipping the warm liquid, surprised at how cold he is. "I don't usually go that far back." It is disconcerting, and Anakin scowls that he now has one more thing to worry about, to dread. Jabiim, at least, was not his fault, but it is another reminder of how Palpatine pulled the strings. "It's not his fault, either," he growls to himself. "It's mine." He's well aware of the distinction, now. He drops the mug onto the table.

He feels Obi-Wan shift beside him, can sense as clearly as if he could still tap into the Force, the man's discomfort. He does this to Obi-Wan. It's his fault Obi-Wan's here, his fault Obi-Wan is sad and uncomfortable and everything else.

He leans over, pressing his forearms against his temples, lacing his fingers behind his head, drawing his knees to his chest. He needs to be as small as possible, needs to make sure he is not taking up so much space. When he was still himself, whenever that was, people called him 'larger than life', his presence overshadowing everything around him. Now it's different, now he wants to disappear, because wanting to be in the spotlight partially led down this path.

So many things, he is coming to realize, have led him and Obi-Wan here. He dissects them, picks himself apart. He moans low in his throat, his frustration with himself a weight he has to somehow release. The moan continues until he is wordlessly screaming into the blankets, unable to stop himself.

Obi-Wan sits beside him, and waits it out.

-----

"I'm going to get some supplies," Obi-Wan tells him a few days later. He knows the next words are going to be an entreaty to leave the house, to join him. Sure enough... "Why don't you come with me? It would be good for you to get out for a while."

"I don't know why you keep asking," Anakin replies, unable to muster the enthusiasm or energy to raise his voice above a murmur. "The answer will always be no."

Obi-Wan, as always, looks disappointed, but perhaps not overly so. Anakin imagines the other man is glad for these times, when he doesn't have to worry about walking on eggshells, waiting for the next outburst. Obi-Wan can escape for these short periods of time, but Anakin can't. Even if he joined the man who used to be his friend, he cannot be certain he won't lose himself in public, that he'll be able to hold everything together. That he won't hurt anyone.

"Are you sure?" Obi-Wan asks, but he is already pulling on his robe. Anakin nods, his thoughts already sliding to what he will do in Obi-Wan's absence. "I'll be back soon," Obi-Wan says. "Be... be safe."

He says it every time he leaves, as if saying the words will really make it so, will truly keep Anakin safe while Obi-Wan's not there to protect him from himself. It's okay, though; Anakin has ways of protecting himself, coping mechanisms he only uses when he's alone.

As soon as Obi-Wan is gone, Anakin opens the bottle. He tries not to think about the steps he'd gone through to get the Wheryn's Reserve, but using his mechanical prowess for their few neighbors in exchange for the stuff is a small price to pay for the relief it can bring. He doesn't do it while Obi-Wan is around; his former Master's presence is enough to keep him from hurting himself too badly. But when Obi-Wan is gone, the barriers are too, and he can't keep the thoughts from intruding - how easy it would be to end it all. So he does this instead, and it makes things easier, until Obi-Wan gets back.

-----

He is standing in the middle of the Council chambers, hands behind his back, trembling with anticipation. "You are on this Council," Mace Windu tells him, "but we do not grant you the rank of Master."

Fury bubbles up inside him, the inequity of it. He is ten times the Jedi any of them are, and they would deny him his Mastery? Part of him recognizes that this is merely memory, and that part of him clamps down on his immediate reaction - his true reaction. Hubris, his downfall. He sinks to his knees as Obi-Wan informs them, "The boy is dangerous."

The boy is dangerous.

Well, Obi-Wan always did have to be right, but soon the memory washes away.

-----

If Obi-Wan recognizes it when he returns, if he can smell the whiskey on Anakin's breath or notices the extra glassiness of his eyes or the way Anakin jerkily shoves the bottle under the sofa as he enters, he doesn't say anything. He simply puts the groceries away. "Are you okay?" is the most he asks, but that is because he is making sure Anakin has not participated in any of his usual blood-letting rituals in his absence. He doesn't understand that Anakin saves those rituals for when Obi-Wan is here; he doesn't notice that Anakin has no desire to actually die - because that would mean he is no longer being punished. And oh, he still deserves to be punished.

"Like you care," Anakin replies before he can stop himself. Even with the warm glow of the drink coating his nerves, he is still feeling the ever-present ache of melancholy, that doubt of Obi-Wan's true intentions. He didn't mean to say the words, but they slip out nonetheless.

Obi-Wan tenses, and seems to want to reply, but instead he shakes his head. Anakin growls to himself, annoyed that now he has to either go to bed or pretend he hasn't done what he's done and can't let the warmth overtake him and let the feelings float away. "What do you want for dinner?" Obi-Wan asks, as if Anakin hadn't just snapped at him.

"I'm not hungry," Anakin responds dully. He's not, either. He rarely is anymore, only eating when he feels like he's going to pass out - and sometimes not even then. Sometimes he just lets his body shut down for a while, and he feels like he wants to do that now. He needs to punish himself for his transgression this afternoon, for daring to try and help himself feel better. He doesn't deserve to feel better. He doesn't deserve to let the memories flood away on a tide of Wheryn's. He needs to live with them, examine them, turn them over and over and never let the screams of the Younglings, of the Separatist leadership, of Mace Windu, of Ahsoka and Padme, be silenced.

He misses his apprentice. He misses his wife. He misses the Order, and his easy relationship with Obi-Wan; he misses Rex and Cody and his starfighter. He misses Artoo. He misses himself, and knows he is never going to get any of it back, and it's entirely his own fault. He shivers and wraps himself in his blanket, feeling the tears come again and powerless to stop them. He used to be so powerful. And yet he'd wanted more. And now he is completely powerless, completely cut off from everything that once made him who he was. "I don't know who I am," he blurts out.

Obi-Wan stares at him, then lowers his head. "I can no longer tell you," he says, and the words cut across Anakin's mind like a razor blade. Since coming here, Obi-Wan has not offered any words of wisdom, any comfort besides the small kindness of speaking to him at all, of caring for him as one would an unpleasant pet. Anakin cannot blame him, but the phantom memory of what Obi-Wan would have once said hurts.

Anakin pushes himself off the sofa and goes into the 'fresher, and he bleeds.

-end-

NEW FIC: Limitless

2012-09-01T21:54:31Z

Title: Limitless
Author(s): patientalien
Artist(s): crescent_gaia
Fandom(s): Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Word Count: 7631
Characters/Pairings(if any): Anakin and Obi-Wan
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the end of Season 4 of The Clone Wars
Summary: Anakin pushes himself too hard and Obi-Wan tries to get him to realize his limits. On a mission to bring down a dangerous enemy, Anakin's stubbornness puts him at risk, and a familiar face threatens to cause a rift between the Hero With No Fear and The Negotiator.
Author’s Notes: citizenjess really helped with the writing process - ♥! Written for the bromancestory big bang!

crescent_gaia also made some lovely icons!!

-----

As far as Obi-Wan Kenobi was concerned, the Council would do well to order an alarm to be attached to the door of Resolute's med bay. That way, when the General of said flagship went missing when he should have been recuperating, it would be noticed sooner. As it was, Anakin had been out of the med bay on his own for two hours before anyone realized he was gone. It wasn't the medics or med-droids' faults, of course - when Anakin set his mind to something, he could be downright sneaky. And Obi-Wan knew his former apprentice well enough to know that the last place he'd want to be while the adrenaline of battle wore off was laid up in bed, no matter how much he needed to be.

There were only a few places Obi-Wan would expect Anakin to have gone. He could count out the bridge, since Admiral Yularen was very skilled at getting stubborn Jedi to behave, even especially hard-headed Jedi like Anakin Skywalker. That left Anakin's own quarters and the docking bay as the most likely places and since being in his quarters would mean he was, Force forbid, resting, Obi-Wan narrowed his search down yet further to the Resolute's cavernous docking bay.

Sure enough, he found Anakin sprawled under his fighter, tinkering around with something Obi-Wan couldn't ever hope to be able to identify. He stood by Anakin's feet for some time while the younger man continued his work, oblivious to the presence of another Jedi in the area. Finally, Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

Anakin's gloved right hand appeared, gripping the fighter's lower edge as he pulled himself - and the hover sled he was laying on - out from under the vehicle. Grease was smeared across his face, concealing what Obi-Wan knew also to be there: the cuts and bruises of their last mission. His friend moved gingerly, putting a bracing hand against his ribs as he stood. Obi-Wan knew Anakin expected him to pretend not to notice, but Obi-Wan had seen the beating Anakin had taken, had witnessed the deprivation he'd endured for the sake of the mission. Any other time, he might let it go, but he'd been letting it go too often lately, and Anakin tended to be downright terrible at looking after his own well-being. Obi-Wan himself had been accused of the same thing from time to time, but, Obi-Wan consoled himself, nobody did ignoring medical advice like Anakin.

"Coric's beginning to think you don't like his company," Obi-Wan commented as Anakin straightened, wiping his hands down the front of his tunic despite Obi-Wan's frown.

Anakin shrugged, and rolled his shoulder with an audible popping sound. "I've had worse," he replied, voice hoarse from dehydration and over taxation of his vocal cords. "Coric's got better things to do."

"If memory serves, yours were the only major injuries - "

"Besides the fatalities," Anakin cut in. He began gathering up his tools, moving carefully but pretending not to. "I'm fine, Master." He caught himself. "Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan let out a long breath, reeling in his frustration. Arguing at this point would do nothing; they would merely go around in circles until one of them (usually Anakin) would get angry enough to storm away. It was a frequently-done dance and they both knew their parts. Obi-Wan was determined, though, to re-write the script eventually.

However, before he could say anything else, his comm-link chimed. Leaving Anakin to his clean up, Obi-Wan turned away, activating the device. "Obi-Wan." It was Mace Windu, without preamble. "The Council needs to speak with you. Go to the ward room, and bring Skywalker."

At the sound of his name, Anakin had looked over and Obi-Wan took the opportunity to motion for the younger man to follow him. While he was sure the Council would be giving instructions on their next mission, Obi-Wan wished they would be able to have just a few days. Anakin needed the rest, loathe as he might be to admit it, and Obi-Wan wasn't sure sending him back out to the field so soon was a good idea. Then again, neither he nor Anakin had been debriefed on their last mission so the Council was unaware of Anakin's condition.

He doubted it would make a difference, anyway. Anakin would do what he wanted, just like he always did. Casting a sidelong glance at his companion, Obi-Wan motioned for him to enter the ward room. Anakin activated the holoprojector and the tiny blue images of Windu and Yoda appeared.

"Another attack have Maul and his brother made," Yoda informed them grimly.

Obi-Wan sighed. Darth Maul should have been dead ten times over and yet continued on his path of destruction in his desire for revenge. It was all very tiring. "On civilians, I presume."

"A refugee camp on Belderone," Windu replied.

"Brought to justice Maul and Oppress must be," Yoda intoned, as if this were news to Obi-Wan.

Across the table, Anakin was clenching his fists. "We'll find them, Master Yoda," he growled, eyes hooded. Obi-Wan knew Anakin was still upset about having been left out of Obi-Wan's initial confrontation with the now-half-cyborg Sith Lord, knew his friend would do everything in his considerable power to bring Maul down. Obi-Wan took stock of the set of Anakin's jaw, the way he was holding himself, the pallor of his skin, and wished they were not heading into this confrontation today. "We'll set course for Belderone immediately." Once again, Anakin was behaving in an altogether reckless manner, heading into danger without any understanding of, or care for, the consequences.

"Our sources indicate Maul and Oppress have left Belderone, but we are not certain where they have gone. It will likely be your best option to start with," Windu said.

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his beard. A brief stopover on Belderone would be a welcome respite, might give him enough time to convince Anakin to give Coric a chance to do his job, and to further convince him that Obi-Wan was perfectly capable of carrying out a mission without Anakin's assistance. He doubted either of those things would happen, though.

"We'll find them, Masters," Anakin stated with finality, and shut off the feed. "Finally!" he exclaimed, turning to Obi-Wan, eyes bright with excitement.

"Don't get too eager to go against Maul," Obi-Wan cautioned. He got a brief flash of Qui-Gon, trembling in his arms, Anakin's face superimposed over that of his old Master. He shook the image away and moved to Anakin's side, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You'll need your strength for this. I suggest you go allow Coric to do his job."

Anakin scowled at him. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that," he replied, "because I don't need Coric."

Obi-Wan sighed. "At least come get some food with me, before we're back on ration capsules," he offered. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Anakin eat anything, ration capsules or otherwise, and he doubted the circumstances Anakin had been in recently had allowed much in the way of sustenance.

His friend scowled again. "I'm not hungry," he retorted, but his tone had softened slightly. "But I guess if it'll get you off my back..."

"It will," Obi-Wan promised, though he reserved the right, privately, to pester Anakin about other neglected aspects of his well-being. "Come, maybe they'll have that nerf steak you like so much."

"They never have nerf steak," Anakin groused as they walked down the hall together. Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan caught Anakin stumble slightly but quickly straighten, face somewhat flushed.

"You should at least get some fever reducers," Obi-Wan suggested as they arrived at the mess hall. "It might help."

Anakin took a deep breath, waving open the door. "Just stop. I'm fine." There was a dark edge to his voice, a warning that Obi-Wan was meddling too much, was showing too much concern. It was an unspoken rule between them - Anakin was the one who was allowed to get up in arms about Obi-Wan's well-being, not the other way around.

Sure enough, the mess hall did not have nerf steak, but Anakin allowed himself to be talked into something else, which he mostly pushed around his tray and pretended not to notice Obi-Wan pretending not to notice.

It wasn't that Obi-Wan was pretending not to notice, really, it was simply a matter of picking his battles at the right times, and right now as concerned as he was, he needed Anakin speaking to him for the ordeal that was ahead of them.

Obi-Wan half expected their assignment to be yet another wild bantha chase for Maul and Oppress, but there was always the niggling feeling that this time - this time - it would be different. And while he was conscious of the limitations Anakin's current condition set (whether Anakin was going to follow those limitations or not), he was yet grateful he would have the young man at his side.

"We should arrive on Belderone in about ten standard hours," Anakin said around a mouthful of rice. "And don't," he added, leveling his fork at Obi-Wan, "tell me I should use that time to rest."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Well, what were you planning on doing with your time? Because rest is definitely on my agenda." Maybe if he gently let Anakin know it wasn't weakness, it would help. The boy was so proud - too proud, the Council would say.

Anakin seemed appalled by the question. "We need to plan our strategy!" he exclaimed, slamming a fist down on the table. "We can't just go into this blind, Master!"

Obi-Wan nearly choked on his tea. "Because doing things according to plan is something you're so very good at," he said. "Anakin, we do not need anything but each other for what is to come." He gave his former apprentice a warning look nonetheless. "Anything but each other, and what strength and energy we can hang onto during our journey." He leaned over the table and laid a hand against Anakin's cheek - warm with fever. "Rest, my friend," he implored.

The younger man lowered his head with a sharp exhale. "Fine," he allowed, standing. "But I'm not going to med bay." Obi-Wan supposed it was a close to victory as he was going to get.

-----

Belderone loomed in the massive view wall on the bridge of the Resolute, a brown and green island in a sea of space. Obi-Wan cast a sidelong glance at Anakin, whose hands were clasped tightly behind his back, face schooled into passivity. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force to try and determine how his friend was feeling, but was met with a solid wall across their bond. He frowned, resisting the urge to run his hand over his beard.

The closer they got to the planet, the more strongly Obi-Wan could feel the stinking tendrils of the Dark Side, the remnants of Maul's attack. He could sense the former Sith (or was Maul still a Sith? Obi-Wan wasn't sure, exactly), the destruction, the pain. Beside him, Anakin tightened his jaw. "Mind your feelings," Obi-Wan murmured, out of habit more than anything else.

"I sense a trap," Anakin responded in kind, not taking his eyes off the view wall.

Obi-Wan allowed a mild smirk to grace his features. This, at least, was comfortable. "And what, my former Padawan," he replies, still not turning, still coolly detached, "is to be done about a trap?"

"We spring it, of course, my Master," Anakin drawled.

Obi-Wan turned, placing a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "That we do, my friend," he said with a slight smile. This, then, was the crux of their partnership, the ease with which they were able to communicate, so very lacking during Anakin's apprenticeship and so easy and comfortable now. Despite the push back he was getting through their bond, never dissolved after Anakin's knighting, he knew it was because Anakin was feeling physical discomfort, not because he did not trust Obi-Wan. There had been a time when it was different, and Obi-Wan was grateful that was no longer the case.

They gave each other strength, fed off of each other's energy, complemented one another. Obi-Wan knew if he physically faltered, Anakin would be there to take over. If Anakin's words failed him, Obi-Wan could talk them out of anything. So many times had Anakin carried them both to safety, so many times had Obi-Wan negotiated a seemingly impossible peace. Obi-Wan was glad to have Anakin by his side for this; Maul a specter of his past that he had wished never to revisit. But having Anakin beside him made it feel a little less hopeless.

Anakin had been trained well. Despite his struggles with certain aspects of his training, he was a natural with a lightsaber, a master tactician. He would not make the same mistake Qui-Gon had, and he would not repeat his own mistake from Geonosis. Obi-Wan would not lose yet another being dear to him to the hands of the Sith. Not now, and never Anakin.

-----

The last time he'd fought Maul, he'd been alone. Well, not entirely alone. Asajj Ventress, a free agent now that she had been cast out of the Sith's influence, had done her considerable share. It had been, Obi-Wan was reluctant to admit, almost like having Anakin there. Though he would never say so to the young man, Ventress and Anakin shared some striking similarities, the least of which being their ferocity in battle. But Ventress was not Anakin, and while Obi-Wan had half-hoped she would have taken him up on his offer of shelter with the Jedi Order, she was one more complication to this whole situation that he was glad to be free of.

This time, he was not alone. He had Anakin, and he had a squad from the 501st. Anakin had tagged Captain Rex and a handful of others. Dangerous as it was, the refugee camp on Belderone was still in need of Republic intervention, and the clones would be able to assist in the relief efforts, even if they did not end up fighting.

As the LAAT/i screamed through the atmosphere to the surface of the planet, the darkness Obi-Wan had felt in orbit intensified. Beside him, Anakin winced and clenched his jaw.

"Bet you dinner at Dex's Maul's still on-planet," Anakin commented, obviously trying to keep his tone light.

"Bet you drinks at the Outlander that you're right," Obi-Wan replied, closing his eyes and falling into a light centering meditation. It was difficult to concentrate with the dark energy enveloping them, but it was better than nothing.

He could feel Maul down there, somewhere, his Force signature roiling and slippery. Could sense Oppress as well, somewhat dimmer, more unfamiliar. Other beings, ones he couldn't quite pinpoint but felt nonetheless like he knew them. Perhaps a trick of the Force, perhaps nerves he shouldn't be having.

Beside him, though, shining like a beacon of the light, was Anakin. "Be mindful," Obi-Wan repeated, feeling Anakin's focus wavering slightly.

"Roger, roger," Anakin intoned dryly. "Being mindful now." He cleared his throat, obviously trying to hold back a cough, and Obi-Wan frowned. Anakin had been doing such a good job since his short rest of pretending to be fine that Obi-Wan had nearly forgotten he wasn't.

"Are you sure?" he ventured. "You don't have to feel obligated, you can stay and help the clones." He knew what the answer would be; there was no point, really, in trying to convince Anakin otherwise.

Sure enough, Anakin awarded him with a sharp glare. "And let you face Maul alone?" he snorted. "I don't think so."

And because Obi-Wan hadn't expected anything different, he merely nodded and slipped back into his meditation.

-----

The refugee camp was in ruins. Maul and Oppress had clearly wanted to make a statement, had clearly wanted to prove to the Jedi what lengths they would go to for revenge. Obi-Wan had to swallow bile as he and Anakin walked through the carnage. At every turn they were stopped by survivors, pleading with them for help, beseeching them for aid.

Anakin wasted no time in getting the clones set up with a makeshift infirmary, helping to round up the injured and begin triaging them. He moved purposefully, completely focused on the task. Anakin would never leave another being in pain and even though Obi-Wan could tell he was scanning the area with the Force, trying to determine Maul's location, for now, Anakin's priority was the refugees.

Sometimes Anakin's compassion and kindness made Obi-Wan feel cruel by comparison. It wasn't that Obi-Wan did not care about these people - he did, of course; he was a Jedi. It was just that, well, Anakin's level of caring was so personal, so encompassing. He could not detach the way a Jedi should and while it made him somewhat of an oddity in the Order, it was also, Obi-Wan firmly believed, what made him the great Jedi he was. Because to Anakin, duty was just something that happened alongside doing the right thing.

There was no middle ground with his young friend. It was all or nothing, black or white, and though Obi-Wan had tried so hard to teach him about shades of gray, it just wasn't in his nature. Either something was the right thing to do, or it was the wrong thing to do. For Anakin, now, the wrong thing to do would be to leave the refugees alone to hunt for Maul. Because while Obi-Wan knew beyond a shadow of a doubt how much Anakin also felt like apprehending (or, the Jedi Master thought dryly, killing) Maul was the right thing to do, the refugees wanted the hope a Jedi could bring. They wanted the hope Anakin Skywalker could bring.

Throughout the course of the war, Anakin had, somewhat to his (and Obi-Wan's) chagrin, become the face of the Republic. His image was everywhere, a symbol of the Grand Army, a symbol of the Jedi Order. Even more than Yoda, Anakin was the most recognized Jedi in the galaxy. His feats made headline news, his exploits the fodder for tabloid holonet programs. Everyone in the galaxy knew his story: slave boy plucked from obscurity to become the Hero With No Fear. He was an inspiration, and he brought hope with him wherever he went.

He was also, Obi-Wan knew, all too human. Those qualities the holonet prized - the compassion, the dedication to the war effort, the tireless bravery and heroism... He tried so hard to live up to those expectations, certain he would disappoint everyone if he faltered in any of them, if he ever failed in his self-guided mission.

The holonet reporters didn't see the other side. They didn't see Anakin as he was now, in pain and trying to hide it, exhausted but still pushing. They didn't see the nightmares, or the mercurial peaks and valleys of his moods. They saw a hero, not a man and sometimes Obi-Wan wondered if Anakin ever saw the man either.

Obi-Wan circled the camp, hand near his 'saber in case of an ambush, keeping one part of his attention on Anakin and the rest past the boundaries of the camp. He could still feel Maul out there, somewhere, could still feel the other almost-familiar beings. He half wanted to worry about what that meant, but the sensation wasn't malicious. Perhaps it meant nothing, perhaps just an echo of something else. He chose to push aside the concern and focus again on finding his quarry.

A tremor in the Force brought him outside of the relative safety of the camp's mangled fencing. He considered going back, bringing Anakin, but he could handle himself. Much as he appreciated the other man's presence, he did not need Anakin next to him at every moment.

His decision was quickly regretted, though. Once outside the fence, the illusion of safety shattered and he heard the snap-hiss of igniting lightsabers.

The two Zabrack warriors flanked him on either side. Oppress, the enormous hulking mass of muscle, and Maul, wiry, his lower half replaced entirely by cybernetics, circled him. Obi-Wan swallowed his apprehension and unhooked his 'saber from his belt. "Quite a mess you leave," he commented.

Never one for conversation, Maul merely growled at him. "You will not win this time, Kenobi."

Obi-Wan gave a slight shrug. "I seem to have a fairly good track record going for me so far," he pointed out.

Anakin always rolled his eyes at the pre-fight banter Obi-Wan engaged in, but to each their own, and it made Obi-Wan feel better to use his words as weapons as surely as he did his lightsaber. Anakin might not understand the tactic, but Anakin had his own strengths - almost none of which involved speaking.

The two struck, and Obi-Wan ducked out of the way, his lightsaber springing to life. He feinted, deflecting blows - it was difficult, but both Maul and Oppress were less than stable, and thus undisciplined. Their unpredictability made them dangerous, but for now Obi-Wan was able to defend himself.

He could feel Anakin's presence in the Force coming closer, a supernova of power. The younger man's fear was palpable, and Obi-Wan hoped Anakin would be able to reign it in. The Hero With No Fear was, ironically, very fearful at times, especially when he thought someone he cared about was in danger. And while Obi-Wan appreciated the sentiment, at the moment he really just needed Anakin doing what Anakin did best: unleashing his power on the enemy.

Sure enough, Anakin took the offensive immediately, pushing Maul back as Obi-Wan handled Oppress. Maul was furious his quarry was not alone and pushed back, trying to make Anakin give ground. Obi-Wan risked a glance out of the corner of his eye; Anakin was dripping sweat, face stark white, cheeks hollow, eyes shadowed, but he wasn't slowing down, lips pulled back from his teeth in a vicious snarl.

"They destroyed the Larty!" Anakin shouted over the sounds of lightsabers singing against each other. He grunted, planting a firm kick to Maul's chest and drew forward again. "There's a firefight topside." He grunted again, and Obi-Wan could feel the sharp sting of barely-contained rage. But it was contained, and this was Anakin. "Grievous."

Obi-Wan frowned, slipping to his right to avoid a blow from Oppress' saber-staff. "Interesting," he called back, "Almost like someone knew we would be here."

"Ya think? I told you this was a trap!"

Shaking his head, thoughts churning, Obi-Wan turned his attention back to his own opponent. There was nothing he could do about Grievous or the Larty right now, so focusing his energy on the setback would do no good. Oppress slammed him with the Force, and pain hit him like a starfighter to the midsection as the air was knocked out of him. He shook it off quickly; he had no time to nurse his wounds. His quick recovery set Oppress off-balance and allowed Obi-Wan go gain the upper hand.

He sank into the Force, letting it flow through him, letting it guide his blade. He was Obi-Wan Kenobi, and he was the Force, and he would do the Force's will as long as he allowed it to speak through him. He twisted and leaped and parried and charged, each step bringing him closer to his goal, and since his goal was not just triumph, but survival, the Force listened and answered.

He drove Oppress closer to Maul, closer to Anakin and the two Sith-trained Zabracks suddenly switched tactics. Maul was on him, a crazed beast, yellow eyes blazing in determination. Obi-Wan gave ground, slipping into the steading embrace of Soresu.

Beside him, Anakin gasped in pain and out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan saw his friend stumble backwards, arm wrapped around his ribs. He saw Oppress take his opening, letting out a howl and baring down on Anakin with a flurry of strikes. Anakin raised his saber and deflected them, but he was struggling. He sagged against an outcropping of debris, holding his 'saber up to shield his face as Oppress slammed his own against it again and again and again. Anakin closed his eyes, and Obi-Wan flung his hands out, catching both Maul and Oppress in a maelstrom of Force energy. Glancing up to see where the best place to deposit them would be, Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of a silver saucer hovering in the near distance. No matter, all he had to do was avoid hitting the ship, and it wasn't as though the craft would be able to go anywhere with the space battle raging just out of the atmosphere.

Obi-Wan pushed, and slammed them into the blasted-open window of one of the buildings across the square from them. Another push, a bit of pull, and the foundation began to crumble. Obi-Wan felt sweat dripping down his back with the exertion - he rarely used the Force in quite this manner; this was definitely Anakin's strength, not his. He brought his hands down quickly to his sides and the walls came down in unison, a plume of dust and dirt billowing up from where the walls had entombed the attackers.

Obi-Wan stood for a long moment, chest heaving. He closed his eyes and tried to re-center himself, reigning in the emotions he'd used to accomplish the task. He was a Jedi Master, and he felt almost like he had lost control. After his breathing slowed, he went to Anakin, trying not to rush, trying not to make it seem like he urgently, desperately, was worried for his friend. No, he was a Jedi, as was Anakin. A certain level of decorum was called for, even if no one was around to see.

"Anakin." He knelt in the dirt beside the younger man, flitting his fingertips over Anakin's forehead, over his closed eyelids, his chest. Despite his weariness, he reached out with the Force, trying to pinpoint the trouble areas - and there were so many it made his head spin. Not all, he could tell, from this recent engagement, either. "Oh, Anakin," he breathed.

Anakin's eyes slid open, unfocused. "Huh?"

Obi-Wan swallowed his nerves. "We're safe, for now," he said, frowning as the familiar, slippery specter he'd been sensing all day began to draw closer. Maul and Oppress were vanquished, for now - because Obi-Wan had no doubt they were still alive. He'd made that mistake with Maul once, and he certainly wasn't going to make it again.

"Hm, good," Anakin replied, eyes drifting closed again.

"Stay awake," Obi-Wan commanded, harshly. "Once you've been checked over by the medics, then you can nap all you want." In fact, he was planning on ordering Coric to give the young man a sedative if necessary.

Anakin scowled. "I'm fine," he snapped. "I just - I don't know what happened - but I'm fine." He braced his hands against the ground and started to push himself up. Obi-Wan stopped him with a gentle palm against his chest.

"What happened," Obi-Wan responded, "is that you are not fine, and that affected your performance." He was just this side of angry - Anakin had, once again, put himself needlessly at risk for the sake of what? His pride? His sense of responsibility?

Anakin's eyelids fluttered and he let out a slight sigh. "Somebody's coming," he murmured softly.

Obi-Wan turned to see the starship that had been hovering over the battle settle to the ground with a wash of dust and debris. He stood, lightsaber at the ready - with Grievous having gotten the jump on them, there was no telling what would be coming down the hatch.

And who did was not who Obi-Wan had expected.

"You look like you could use a ride," Asajj Ventress called, sauntering down the boarding ramp, hips swinging, looking for all the galaxy like this was just a normal, everyday occurrence.

Beside him, Anakin stiffened, and sprang to his feet, lightsaber called to his hand, wavering unsteadily. "Ventress!" he exclaimed, barking out a cough at the exertion. "We should have known!"

Ventress got to the end of the ramp and crossed her arms over her chest. "You still haven't told him about us, Kenobi?" she asked, teasingly. Obi-Wan frowned; there was nothing to tell about them, but he hadn't told Anakin that Ventress was now - well, if not good, at least not under the sway of the Sith any longer. At the time, he had withheld the information because he'd doubted Anakin would care. In his mind, Ventress had done too much evil to warrant forgiveness.

Anakin took two unsteady steps forward and then his hand flew to his chest, breath coming out in harsh gasps. "You're doing..." he ground out, falling to his knees and leaning forward, hands splayed in front of him.

"Anakin..." Obi-Wan looked from his former apprentice to Ventress.

"A ride and medical attention," Ventress amended, moving forward to grip one of Anakin's arms. Obi-Wan grabbed the other arm and together they hauled Anakin to his feet.

The young man moaned and gasped with a sharp crackling noise. Obi-Wan frowned, using the Force to manhandle Anakin up the boarding ramp. By the time they arrived in the small med bay, his lips were blue and he was trembling all over, coughing tightly, dry-heaving.

Obi-Wan couldn't stop the fear, now, as he slammed an oxygen mask over Anakin's nose and mouth. Fear and anger - the path to the Dark Side, Yoda had always said. But this was Anakin, and he was in pain, and Obi-Wan would be damned if he lost Anakin in such a senseless way.

Ventress powered up the med-droid while Obi-Wan settled Anakin onto the cot. "Relax," he implored. "Just breathe."

Anakin sucked in deep, rattling breaths, eyes squeezed shut. His presence in the Force was scattered, unfocused, frantic.

"Just breathe," Obi-Wan repeated, running a hand over Anakin's hair, everything else fading into the background. He ignored Ventress, ignored the med-droid running its scanner over Anakin's body, ignored everything but them. "Anakin." He slipped back into the Force, reaching out, using its guiding light to open up Anakin's spasming airways, massaging his lungs and heart gently.

Obi-Wan was certainly no Healer, but something was better than nothing until the med-droid was done with the scan. It seemed to take an eternity before the 'droid began filtering a breathing treatment through the mask and it was only when color began returning to Anakin's face that Obi-Wan allowed himself to breathe.

"I saw them torch the camp," Ventress informed him blandly. "I figured you'd come, thought I'd hang around in case you needed help." She gave him a wicked smile. "Looks like I was right."

Obi-Wan shook his head. He was in no mood for bantering with Ventress; usually it was a nice distraction, but it was not something he was interested in doing at the moment. "If you plan to take us back to our ship, you should know that General Grievous is currently engaging our fleet in orbit." He didn't look at her, didn't turn away from Anakin. He was regaining awareness in spurts, the mask forcing oxygen into his lungs with an eerie hissing. Obi-Wan ran a hand over his cheek.

Ventress leaned against the med bay’s bulkhead, cocking her hips to the side. "My cargo's destination is Coruscant," she commented.

"We need to get back to the Resolute," Anakin rasped suddenly. "I need to be out there." He still didn't have his eyes open all the way, his chest was still heaving, but he was cognizant enough to have an opinion, which Obi-Wan took as a good sign.

"You are in no condition to be doing anything," Obi-Wan reminded him sharply. "So just lie there and breathe."

Now Anakin did open his eyes, somewhat cloudy with pain and fatigue. "We can't just let Grievous get away," he insisted hoarsely. "Master, we have to get back there!" A full-body tremor shook him.

"Would you mind setting a course for Coruscant?" Obi-Wan asked Ventress, hoping she would take the hint.

Ventress, to her credit, was certainly not a stupid woman. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone," she cooed. Obi-Wan supposed he should take comfort in the fact that some things, like Ventress' appreciation for innuendo, never changed. But right now, he was in the mood for it about as much as he was in the mood to return the taunts.

As soon as she was gone, Anakin exploded in anger. "How can you trust her?" he demanded. "How can you just run from the fight? Master!" He winced as the med-droid inserted an IV line into his flesh arm.

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his beard in exasperation. "Anakin, calm yourself." This he could do - the reprimand, the reminder that, despite the fact Anakin was now a Knight and a General, he would always be Obi-Wan's apprentice first and foremost. "You are not going anywhere but the Halls of Healing until Vokara Che says you are well enough to be released."

Anakin let out a sharp puff of air, the effect marred by the oxygen mask. "There is nothing wrong with me!" he exclaimed.

"You almost got killed!" Obi-Wan bellowed, the small amount of patience he'd held onto evaporating in the face of Anakin's blatant refusal to see reason. Anakin Skywalker was likely the only person in the galaxy who had that effect on him, and it was maddening. "You almost got killed because of your amazingly thick-headedness!"

"Oh, I'm thick-headed?" Anakin snarled. "I'm not the one gallivanting around with kriffing Ventress!" The effort to shout made him gasp for air, hand pressed to his chest.

"That isn't the point!" Obi-Wan snapped. "Stop trying to change the subject!" It was a classic Anakin tactic - any time he felt cornered, or unfairly lectured, he did his best to deflect attention to something else - anything else.

"It is the point!" Anakin insisted. "It's completely the point - how can you possibly not see how karked up it is that she's tried to kill you and now you're letting her rescue us?" He was getting worked up again, coughing into the mask.

"Please, sir," the med-droid droned. "Your heart rate is unsteady, please keep calm."

"She saved my life the last time I went against Maul," Obi-Wan informed him, suddenly feeling very badly that they hadn't had this conversation sooner, that he hadn't simply allowed Anakin to rail at him for his apparent stupidity at a time when it wouldn't have been hazardous to Anakin's health. "She's changed, Anakin. I know the concept is a foreign one for you, but it is possible."

Anakin shook his head. "I don't trust her."

Sighing, Obi-Wan laid a hand on Anakin's arm. "I'm not asking you to," he admitted. And he wasn't - he knew deep down that he couldn't change how Anakin felt about Ventress, or about anything really. He had tried so hard throughout Anakin's training to make him think and react in ways befitting a proper Jedi, but Anakin was Anakin, and above all else, Obi-Wan wanted him to remain true to himself, because in the end Obi-Wan knew that Anakin was inherently good.

"Good," Anakin grumped, and shivered. "It's cold in here."

"Perhaps if you had allowed Coric to treat your fever the other day, you wouldn't be in this position now," Obi-Wan pointed out. He would get through to Anakin if it was the last thing he did.

"Can I sleep now?" Anakin demanded sullenly.

Obi-Wan sighed, nodded, and left Anakin to the med-droid.

-----

Pacing in the small quarters Ventress had shown him to, Obi-Wan struggled to release his frustrations into the Force. He could understand Anakin's position regarding Ventress - he hadn't been there to witness her dedication to bringing Maul and Oppress down, hadn't experienced the brightness of her Force presence now that she was no longer a Sith acolyte. Ventress had scarred Anakin's face and caused no end of trouble for both of them since the war had begun, and if Obi-Wan hadn't seen the transformation himself, he was sure he wouldn't believe it either.

No, what was bothering him was not Anakin's impressive ability to hold a grudge. The young man seemed to have absolutely no idea why his injury and illness from the previous mission was a big deal. He had no consideration for anyone else who might have been concerned about him, and he certainly wasn't concerned for himself.

Surely he wasn't unaware of the damage the last mission had done. Surely he wasn't so bantha headed that he was unable to make the leap of logic to determine that what had happened to him would have lasting effects.

With a sudden realization, Obi-Wan returned to the med bay. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" he asked as soon as he determined Anakin was awake.

Anakin blinked at him blearily. "What happened when?" he asked. "MD gave me something. I'm feeling much better now." He gave Obi-Wan a dopey smile. "So we can go back and fight Grievous now. Please."

Obi-Wan used the Force to pull a chair up to the side of the bed, ignoring Anakin's amused smirk at his apparent disregard for his own 'don't use the Force for frivolous things' rule. "I get the feeling you won't feel as chipper once whatever that is wears off," he replied. Reaching up, he ran a hand down Anakin's cheek. "Anakin, please, if you need to talk about the last mission..."

Anakin closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into Obi-Wan's hand. In his time as Anakin's Master, and perhaps even more so as his friend, Obi-Wan had learned that Anakin's emotions were at times so overwhelming that he could barely put words to his feelings. While Obi-Wan had been taught from a very young age to give his emotions over to the Force, it was never something Anakin had been able to master. Sometimes he needed to talk through his feelings, which Obi-Wan was, admittedly, never very comfortable with. He'd tried his best to be available for Anakin, but he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that Anakin always felt like he was being judged. And, Obi-Wan had to admit, sometimes he did judge. Because Anakin was a Jedi, and Anakin should sometimes know better. But Anakin was still Anakin, and he was still Obi-Wan's friend.

"Was scared I'd lose you," Anakin murmured. "I did it so you wouldn't have to."

Obi-Wan swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "I am capable of taking care of myself, you know," he managed to get out. He was, truly - he'd proven that not a handful of hours ago, after all. But the fact Anakin had consciously put himself at risk because of his desire to keep Obi-Wan safe was... well, it was unsurprising, but it was still troubling. It reeked of attachment, one of the cardinal rules of the Order.

Anakin nodded softly, reaching up and grabbing Obi-Wan's hand in his own. "I couldn't watch it happen to you," he said. "I just couldn't. I couldn't fail again."

Again. Anakin always referred to 'failing again', but Obi-Wan wasn't sure what the first failure was. He'd tried to get Anakin to tell him, but as open as the young man was about some things, he was remarkably tight-lipped about others. "Anakin..."

"I love you, Obi-Wan," Anakin announced suddenly, eyes shining. "I'll never let anything happen to you." Obi-Wan sighed; had Anakin's system not been swimming with whatever drugs MD had pumped into him, Obi-Wan was sure he would not have said it. He certainly may have felt it, but he would have known better than to admit it.

"I know," he said. He couldn't lecture, not now. He didn't have the energy, anyway. And besides... wouldn't he do the same for Anakin? Wouldn't he lay down his life for his friend? Of course he would, he just would never say it. It wasn't the Jedi way to admit such things. He could only imagine the look Master Yoda would level at him had he been present. "But Anakin, you have to take care of yourself. You realize..." He let out a breath, ran his free hand over his beard, then lowered it to cover the hand Anakin was using to clutch at him. "I would hate to lose you for something so simple."

"You're a good Jedi," Anakin replied. "I'm pretty sure you'd be okay. You got over Qui-Gon, didn't you?" As he said it, he winced as if realizing a line had been crossed.

"Qui-Gon’s death was... painful," Obi-Wan said carefully. "And the only reason I was able to get over it at all was because of you."

"Your promise," Anakin spat, always a sore spot.

Obi-Wan shook his head and squeezed Anakin's hand. "No," he insisted. "You. And if I were to lose you, what would be left?" Life without Anakin, Obi-Wan had come to realize, would be torment. He would live, of course, and move on, but always with something missing, a part of himself that he would no longer carry with him.

"You could train Ahsoka," Anakin suggested, but the barb was tinged with a kind of relief. For all his bravado, Anakin did like to know he was cared for.

"How about you let Vokara Che do her job when we get back to Coruscant and then you can continue training her," Obi-Wan offered.

"I hate to break things up," came Ventress' voice from the hatchway, "but we'll be landing in about twenty minutes."

"Harpy," Anakin snarled under his breath, closing his eyes again.

Obi-Wan sighed, and followed Ventress into the cockpit.

-----

The Halls of Healing in the Jedi Temple were designed to bring tranquility and gentle energy to all who entered. Despite the beauty, Obi-Wan truly disliked (because to hate was not the Jedi way, of course) the place because it meant someone he cared about - or himself - was in pain.

Currently, though, Anakin was not in any pain, sunk deep in a Force-induced Healing trance. Even so, Obi-Wan paced, waiting for the venerable Master Healer to emerge and tell him something - anything. He knew now that Anakin would live, but that didn't make the wait any better.

Part of the time had been taken up by trying to convince Ventress to stay, to give the Jedi a chance to help her rebuild her life. She had, true to form, steadfastly refused and departed before anyone could see her. Obi-Wan knew, the same way he knew Maul and Oppress were not dead, that he would see her again. And perhaps someday he would bring her over to the light entirely because if there was hope for someone like Ventress, there was hope for anyone.

"Master Kenobi." Master Vokara Che's voice was like a wind through reeds, soothing and gentle- though Obi-Wan knew full well that could easily change. "You may visit Master Skywalker now, if you would like." She gestured for him to follow her. "He has tolerated the Healing process well," she said as they walked down the long vaulted hallway. "But I will recommend to the Council that he be kept off active duty for enough time for him to fully recover." She shook her head, long lekku wavering. "Though I get the feeling he will be making up his own mind on when he thinks he is recovered."

Obi-Wan frowned slightly. "Believe me, Master Che, he will be following your instructions to the letter. I will make sure of it." He certainly would, too. He was mighty tired of chasing Anakin around trying to get him to slow down enough to heal. This time, they would do it right from the start. Reaching Anakin's room, Obi-Wan gave Vokara Che a shallow bow and his thanks.

Anakin was feigning sleep when Obi-Wan entered, but Obi-Wan knew better. "Master Che says you're on the mend," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You'd best stay that way this time."

Anakin smirked and slid open his eyes. "I guess you're here to threaten me into staying until she gives the word."

"Threaten is such a strong word," Obi-Wan countered. "I was going to say 'cajole'." He lowered his arms and went to the bed. "You frighten me sometimes, you know."

Frowning, Anakin reached for Obi-Wan's hand. "Do I?"

Obi-Wan nodded, lacing his fingers through Anakin's. "I am... frightened of losing you," he admitted. Such a strong thing, fear; no wonder such a concern of the Council. Still, his and Anakin's fear for each other’s safety did give them strength, in its own way. "I love you, Anakin, and I do not wish to experience what this galaxy would be like without you."

Anakin stared at him in surprise. "Do you have a concussion?" he asked, but the Force glowed with pleased warmth.

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Perhaps," he replied. "Or perhaps I should have said it all along. Maybe then you would have taken better care of yourself?"

Shaking his head, Anakin drew Obi-Wan's hand to his lips. "But then what would you worry about? I'm just keeping you on your toes, that's all."

With a sigh, Obi-Wan settled onto the edge of the bed. "There is no one I would rather worry about," he said. It was true. There was no other man he would rather have watching his back, no other man he would rather spend this blasted war beside. He and Anakin were the Team, and if Obi-Wan had anything to do with it, they always would be.

-end-

NEW FIC: these broken wings

2012-03-03T04:53:20Z

title these broken wings
author patientalien
rating PG-13
word count 4629
summary Ahsoka watches a tragedy unfold, and is powerless to stop it.
notes AU of the Clone Wars episode "Friends and Enemies". Title and cut-text from "Blackbird" by The Beatles, and suggested by my lovely citizenjess.
WARNING Major Character Death

-----

Its name meant "glorious jewel" in Huttese, but there was nothing glorious that Anakin could see in the dusty streets of Nal Hutta. Just misery and desperation and crime and somewhere - somewhere - a Jedi killer. "Stay close to me," he instructed Ahsoka, pulling his hood up and using his cloak to conceal his lightsaber. He didn't want to reveal himself until the last moment, wanted to make Rako Hardeen think he'd gotten away with it. Wanted to see the surprise and terror in the bounty hunter's eyes when the end came. All un-Jedi-like thoughts, and none he would ever voice out loud, but since he'd carried Obi-Wan's body back to the Temple, Anakin hadn't much felt like a Jedi.

He knew better than to say it. Knew better than to admit that without Obi-Wan Kenobi's guiding hand, he was nothing. Padme had tried to placate him, reminding him that Obi-Wan's own Master had been tragically killed and instead of losing himself, Obi-Wan had turned his attention to his Padawan. Except Anakin, as he'd vehemently reminded his wife, was NOT Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was dead, and Anakin had a mission to complete. He would still do his duty even if Obi-Wan was dead, even if it felt in the deep down dark places in Anakin's gut like he was dying too.

Keeping Ahsoka by his side, he strode down the stinking alleyways of the city, reaching out with the Force, trying to get a grip on the slippery presence he sensed every time he was anywhere near Hardeen. Reaching back to his Padawanship, he'd remembered Obi-Wan's teachings about learning everything he could about his target before engaging, and this time he had. He'd read all he could about Rako Hardeen, about his other crimes, about the other members of the plot to kidnap Palpatine. But he didn't care about any of the others - he'd capture them, of course, as the Council had requested, but he would find a way to make sure Hardeen was not among the survivors. After all, if there was collateral damage from this mission, it wouldn't be Anakin's fault. He was just doing his job, his duty as a Jedi.

Like a snake, that slippery Force-shadow slithered into his consciousness, wrapping itself around his own Force-presence. He stopped short, putting a hand out to keep Ahsoka from moving, and closed his eyes. "There," he said, and tapped the signal into his comlink that would tell Rex to move the 501st into position. Ahsoka's hands strayed to her 'sabers, but Anakin shook his head. "Not yet," he instructed. "Not until I say so." Going in 'sabers blazing would ruin everything - Anakin knew enough to know that. Obi-Wan would have been pleased.

Tugging his hood lower over his face, Anakin slid into the shadows the Force-sense was hiding in, and there they were - Cad Bane, Moralo Eval, and Rako Hardeen. He could take them all out right this moment - with just a thought, he could kill them. But he didn't; no, this was something he was saving for Hardeen specifically. Another tap to his comlink and he could feel the 501st surrounding them. "Now," he murmured to Ahsoka, and she flung off her own cloak, her 'sabers finding their way to her hands effortlessly. The bounty hunters began shooting, but then the clones appeared, and Anakin used the confusion to put himself between Hardeen and the others.

Hardeen's eyes widened as Anakin brandished his 'saber. "This," he growled, "is for Obi-Wan." But instead of the death blow from the blade, Anakin decided to make it a little more personal. He wanted Hardeen to suffer, as Anakin was suffering. He reached out with the Force and squeezed, raising Hardeen off the ground with an invisible rope around the despicable man's neck, using the Force to put pressure on the man's body equal to that of being crushed under a boulder. Hardeen gasped, his hands rising to his neck, scrabbling at it. Anakin heard something crack, saw the panic in Hardeen's eyes. It felt good - it felt so good.

"Anakin."

The familiar voice came as such a surprise that Anakin lost his grip and Hardeen went crashing to the ground. He knelt beside the bounty hunter, searching the man's face frantically for something he knew wasn't really there.

"Anakin. Don't..." Hardeen coughed, each breath labored - he was dying, the crushing damage Anakin had done to each of his internal organs taking its toll. It wasn't Rako Hardeen's voice anymore, a Coruscanti lilt replacing the rough Outer Rim cadence. And the man's eyes - Anakin hadn't gotten a good look at his eyes before now, and he felt like he'd been punched in the stomach.

He sucked in a breath, bile rising in his throat. "Obi-Wan..." He began shaking his head. No, this couldn't be happening, this couldn't be real. Obi-Wan was dead, Rako Hardeen was dying, it wasn't the other way around.

Hardeen - Obi-Wan, Anakin forced himself to recognize - pressed a hand against Anakin's cheek, and then went slack. The Force-sense disappeared at the same time and Anakin howled in unrepentant pain and fury.

-----

They'd gotten separated during the confusion, and when Ahsoka finally found Anakin again, he was crouched over the very still body of Rako Hardeen. She could feel the Force swirling around him in a maelstrom, but she wasn't sure what he was doing. She took a few tentative steps closer, saw her Master's hands pressed against the bounty hunter's chest. Anakin's eyes were closed, his breathing deep and fast, and suddenly she realized - he was trying to Heal the man. From behind closed eyelids, tears tracked down Anakin's dirty cheeks, and Ahsoka took a few more steps forward. She didn't dare speak, didn't dare interrupt this moment.

"Come on, Obi-Wan," she heard Anakin mutter under his breath as another surge of the Force slammed into Anakin's body like lightning, only to be disbursed through Hardeen's slack limbs. "Come on. I'm sorry." The effort it was taking Anakin to heal a dead man was beginning to show; blood dripped from one nostril and his face had drained of all color but still he did not stop. Ahsoka wanted to stop him, but she couldn't move. Shaking from the exertion, Anakin held a hand over Hardeen's slack mouth and Ahsoka could see something moving up, up, up, and then Anakin was holding a wicked-looking device in his hand. It took Ahsoka a moment to recognize it as a vocal emulator and in that moment Anakin had crushed the thing and flung it aside. "It's gone now, Obi-Wan," he moaned, "you can be yourself again, you just have to wake up."

Ahsoka's hands flew to her mouth in horror as the truth pummeled her. She sank to her knees, watching as Anakin pounded on the bounty hunter - on Obi-Wan - trying to breathe life back into the man he'd already mourned once. She knew without asking what had happened, that Anakin's anger and grief had overwhelmed him and the man he'd thought was Rako Hardeen had gotten in the way. She knew, too, that Obi-Wan was dead, that nothing Anakin could do, none of his galaxy-shattering powers, could change it, could take back what he'd done. She felt broken because Anakin was broken, she could hear it in his terrible gasping sobs, see it in his continued attempts at life-giving Healing.

It felt like everything around them had frozen. All she could hear was Anakin's wretched breathing, all she could see was his face, terrified and terrifying. Then the galaxy caught up with them and she felt flung back into reality as Rex ran up behind her. "The bounty hunters are in custody," he reported. Ahsoka stood, shakily, resisting the urge to use Rex to lever herself to her feet.

"Thanks, Rex," she said, still staring at her Master, who had gone very, very still, sitting back on his heels, hands on his knees, eyes closed, blood flowing over his lips, a bruise forming under one eye. Even vessels of the Force had their limits.

Rex shifted beside her. "Is the General..."

"He's fine," she snapped, even though she was fully aware Rex knew otherwise. She had to say it, because if she said it enough, it would be true. If she said it enough, to the right people, Anakin would be able to recover from this. She crossed the space between herself and her Master with a few quick steps. "Master," she said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's time to go."

"I'm not going anywhere," he replied, not opening his eyes.

She swallowed. "We'll bring him with us too," she offered. "I'm so sorry, Master." She felt tears begin to form, and she violently wiped them away.

"You're not the one who killed him," Anakin intoned darkly. "You're not the one who should be sorry." His lip curled, and Ahsoka's stomach dropped. This was unlike anything she'd had to deal with before, and she was afraid she had no idea what to do, or what to say, to make it better. She was worried that there wasn't anything that could possibly fix this, could possibly help Anakin. But if they went back to Coruscant, the Council would make things better, wouldn't they? That was their job, to fix things that went wrong, and Yoda had hundreds of years of experience, and Anakin was the Chosen One, that had to mean something. It had to mean that everything would be okay eventually.

"There's nothing left to do here," she told him, and he stood, bringing Obi-Wan's body up with him, holding the man tightly in his arms. He was trembling and Ahsoka was afraid he was going to fall. "Let Rex..."

"NO." Anakin's voice was hoarse and he managed to keep his balance, storming past her to the gunship.

-----

Republic cruisers were equipped with a small but functional morgue, which was where Ahsoka followed Anakin once the gunship docked. He was refusing to accept her help, despite the shaking, despite his stumbling steps, but she followed anyway. She didn't want to let him out of her sight, terrified of what would happen if she did.

He laid Hardeen - no, Obi-Wan - out on one of the cold metal tables and braced himself on the edge, elbows locked, head down. His shoulders shook, though not with sobs. He was spent, exhausted, completely tapped dry, and Ahsoka half-expected him to collapse on the spot now that Obi-Wan was where he needed to be. But once again she could feel Anakin drawing the Force around himself, into himself, and his shaking increased. He laid a hand over Obi-Wan's eyes and drove the Force in, arching his back and moaning in agony.

"Master, stop!" she cried, pulling his hand away. The sensation of pure energy coursing from his body into hers almost made her scream. It was frighteningly painful, a million volts of electricity and the connection to every other living being in the Galaxy. Was this what Anakin felt? Was this what it was like to be the Chosen One? She rethought it; Anakin obviously wasn't used to this either. Sweat poured from him, his nose and eyes leaking blood. He was trying, so hard, to siphon his own life into Obi-Wan, and it was clear he was killing himself to do so. She knew whatever he was trying wouldn't succeed, though, even if he was blind to it. He might end up killing himself, but Obi-Wan would still be dead. And where would that leave her, anyway? It was a selfish thought, but it spurred her to action. "Master, please."

He looked down at her, blinking insensibly, like he barely recognized her. "I can bring him back," he croaked. "I brought you back, I can bring him back too. I have to bring him back, I can't..." His breath hitched.

She shook her head. "Master, you've done everything you could," she said softly, reaching out again, carefully this time, to touch his arm. "Please, just... let him go."

The effort it took him was enormous, but he finally let out a long, shaky breath. He looked up at her, bloody tears streaming down his cheeks. She winced, but forced herself not to look away. "Come on," she said, taking his hand. "You need to rest." She wanted to suggest he go to medbay, but she knew what his response to that would be. Even if he didn't get immediate attention from the medics, she could at least take care of him herself until they were back on Coruscant.

Coruscant. She suddenly felt uncertain again as she considered what would happen when they returned to the Temple. What kind of punishment was Anakin going to be walking into, what kind of reaction would he have when they were undoubtedly brought before the Council? Would she still have a Master in a few days' time? She shook her head to dislodge the thoughts, her focus on Anakin in the present.

He wiped his face with his sleeve, leaving streaks of blood in its wake. He took one last look at Obi-Wan's false face, lips parted, moving as though in some genuflection. Another apology, perhaps. "Fine," he said to her, finally, and allowed her to lead him out of the morgue and away.

-----

Ahsoka chewed on her lip as Anakin paced back and forth across the floor of his quarters. He was all nervous energy, unceasing, despite his trembling exhaustion, his weary gauntness. "Master." She tried to stand in his way, but he went around her. She reached out with the Force to try to calm him, but he slammed his shields down so hard it was like a physical pain.

He finally stopped, standing by the wall near the door, shaking his hands at the wrist as if he were getting ready to spar. Instead, he whirled and planted his mechanical fist in the durasteel wall. Ahsoka took a surprised step backwards, but then rushed to his side as he fell to his knees, clutching his hair. A deep moan slid out of his throat and he leaned forward, forehead touching his thighs. She knelt beside him and rubbed his back gently, closing her eyes and trying again to break through his shields. They were still up as tight as ever. "It'll be okay," she said instead, and tried to believe it herself.

-----

He still wouldn't sleep. He moved jerkily, his eyes red and raw, barely able to keep his feet, but he refused to rest. She'd tried everything short of knocking him unconscious, though she wasn't sure she'd be able to accomplish that, either. Instead, she'd comm'd Coric, asking him to bring some sleep aids to her. She didn't specify who they were for, and knew he wouldn't pry. Rex had probably filled him in anyway, and unless their General specifically said otherwise, or was clearly in danger, they would keep their distance. And while Ahsoka knew he was in danger, it wasn't the kind that could be cured by bacta.

"Here," she said once Coric had delivered the capsules (and an extra hypo of the stuff, "Just in case," he'd said, which she'd slid into her belt). Anakin looked down at her outstretched hand and shook his head.

"No," he said firmly, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper.

"You'll feel better if you get some sleep," she pointed out, hoping that, for once, he would see reason. Instead, he scowled at her, using the Force to fling the capsules out of her hand. She wanted to point out he was being childish but held her tongue. She couldn't really judge, she couldn't presume to know the depths of what he was feeling, and all things considered he was being less self-destructive than she'd expected. Still, that didn't take away the fact he hadn't eaten or slept in days. It was everyday-for-Anakin-Skywalker self-destruction, but it was still worrisome. "Master, please."

Anakin just shook his head and went back to pacing. His steps were unsteady, and he kept rubbing his eyes, letting out sharp breaths whenever he was turned away from her. He needed to rest - she needed to rest, so she eased the hypo out of her belt and walked up beside him. He was so lost in his own grief that he didn't notice her, or the hypo against his wrist, until she'd depressed the plunger. She frowned at that; his focus was usually absolute, and she'd never been able to sneak up on him before. "Snips?" he asked, looking confused.

"Here," she said, taking his hand and leading him to his bunk. She wasn't sure how strong the sedative was, but she assumed it would be better for him to be laying down when it took effect. To her surprise, he settled onto the bunk without argument. "I'm sorry." She brushed her fingers against his cheek, and he reached up and grabbed her hand.

"I killed him," he slurred. "My Master, my... my Obi-Wan, and I..." He shook his head, closed his eyes. His breathing evened, slowed, his tensed muscles relaxed as he slid into sleep.

-----

Ahsoka hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep until she was woken up a strange noise. She slid her eyes open and looked over at her still-sleeping Master, realizing that the noise was coming from him. She crossed the room and knelt by his bunk, trying to decide if she should wake him up or not. He was clearly having a nightmare, his face scrunched up, tears trailing down his cheeks. He was moaning, and occasionally she could make out a word or two - usually "Obi-Wan" and "No". She frowned, feeling tears welling in her own eyes.

She drew her knees up to her chest and buried her head in her arms, trying not to sob but unable to stop herself. The enormity of what had happened was finally hitting her, now that she had a moment to think. They were still two days out from Coruscant, she had two more days to ensure Anakin took care of himself and then... what? Would he admit to the murder? Would he lash out at the Council? Would he be expelled, sent to the Citadel? Would she be reassigned? The questions slammed against her skull and she struggled to release them into the Force. It was impossible, her doubts and fears snaking around her innards and squeezing until she could hardly breathe.

The thought of being without her Master was more painful than anything she'd ever experienced. He'd trained her, taught her, molded her, made her the Jedi she now was. She'd been so naive, so unpolished, so very young before they were paired together. And now... now she was a warrior. Now she was a Jedi, and he treated her almost as an equal. She was respected, because of the lessons he'd taught her. With a shaky breath, she found herself admitting it - she loved her Master. Whether she was in love with him was murkier; her feelings always felt so jumbled when she went down that path of thought. It was forbidden for her to form attachments, forbidden for him to form attachments. She didn't want to be in love with him, didn't want their relationship to become complicated, she didn't want to feel such horrible pain at the idea of being separated from him. No wonder attachments were forbidden; just the idea of giving him up was making her break out in a cold sweat. In love, or just love, it didn't matter.

Anakin rolled onto his side, curling up, drawing his knees to his chest and letting out a soft sob. He was still asleep, his fists clenched in the blanket. Ahsoka took a deep, shakey breath, trying to release her anxieties into the Force, and ran a hand through Anakin's hair. She closed her eyes, opening herself up to the Force, opening the bond that existed between them, sending what she hoped were calming pulses. Anakin whimpered and moaned; if anything, her attempts seemed to be making it worse. She cut off the bond and sighed sharply, frustrated. She didn't know what to do to make this better - or if she even could.

-----

Anakin wasn't furious with her when he awoke, which was something of a surprise. Then again, he likely had much more to worry about. Or, somehow worse, she entertained the idea that he didn't even care that she'd drugged him. Well, it didn't really matter if he was angry with her for it anyway; she'd do it again if she had to.

She had a feeling Coric had known what she'd been trying to accomplish, because the dose had kept Anakin out for almost a day and a half. She would have been worried if she hadn't known how badly he needed the sleep and instead was simply grateful they were less than a day from Coruscant.

She was looking forward to being home, and it was so easy to forget why they were heading back. That Obi-Wan's body was in the morgue, that Anakin had killed him, that they were heading back into the unknown, her future - and Anakin's - a mystery. Every time she thought about where they were heading, and that she was glad they were almost there, the reality slammed into her and she had a hard time keeping herself calm.

Anakin, too, seemed riddled with anxiety, his pacing and nervous energy increasing the closer they got to the Core. She considered offering to spar, but she wasn't sure she really wanted to. Part of her was still wary of him, still on edge; his rage had been so all-encompassing, and she wasn't sure what he would do with a 'saber in his hand again. That line of thought made her think about the inevitable Council meeting and she felt like she might throw up.

Normally, she and Anakin stood on the bridge whenever they made planetfall, especially when landing on Coruscant. This time, though she could feel the Resolute shudder with the atmospheric re-entry, she and Anakin remained in his quarters. He was clenching and unclenching his fists so hard she could hear the servomotors in his mechno whirring in protest. She swallowed the lump in her throat and finally spoke. "Master, whatever happens, I just want you to know..."

Anakin shook his head. His eyes were raw, empty, his face lined with weariness and anxiety and anger and fear. "Whatever happens, Snips," he echoed, "I'm sorry I failed you." He bowed his head for a long moment, then closed his eyes and sprung up from his bunk like a suddenly-released tension coil. Ahsoka worried her lower lip as she watched him pace, then frowned as the feel of the ship docking and the "all clear" signal sounded. It was time to go. She stood, meeting his gaze. He took a deep breath, swallowed, straightened.

She had almost expected him to be able to put on the mask of General Anakin Skywalker, but he didn't. He simply was forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other, trying to keep from shaking too badly. She wasn't surprised to find Masters Yoda and Windu waiting for them on the landing platform. She was surprised, however, that no words were immediately exchanged. Instead, Windu put a hand on Anakin's shoulder, a gesture Anakin violently shrugged off. He made a low growling noise and stormed away, and Ahsoka found she had to jog to keep up with him.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, though she was a little terrified of the answer.

"I don't know yet," he replied, voice hoarse. He didn't look at her the entire way up to the Council chambers, didn't say anything else, despite her pleading through the bond. "Wait here," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder once they reached the room, just ahead of Windu and Yoda. "Whatever happens..." He swallowed heavily, and followed the Masters into the chamber, leaving Ahsoka alone with her worry.

-----

She would never know what was said. She would never know if the rumors that Anakin threw a punch at Windu, or broke down in tears were true. She had a feeling the truth was somewhere in the middle. She wasn't sure what had guided her back down to the launch bay while she waited; maybe it was the desire to be in a place Anakin loved so dearly, maybe it was an attempt to still her mind by keeping her hands busy. Truly, though, she was waiting for what she knew in the pit of her stomach would happen.

Sure enough, after she'd spent an hour running through katas, he appeared. He was striding purposefully towards his speeder, the spot on his belt that normally held his lightsaber conspicuously empty.

"Master..." Once again, she found herself running to catch up with him. "Master, what happened?" She knew, though.

Anakin stopped short, looked down at her. His eyes were red, his face drawn, but he managed to give her a softly comforting half-smile. "I've decided to..." He cleared his throat. "I've decided to serve the Republic... elsewhere."

Ahsoka felt her eyes fill with tears and blinked violently, trying to stamp down her surging emotions. "Let me come with you," she blurted. She'd never considered the idea of not being a Jedi, but if Anakin was leaving, she couldn't very well let him fend for himself in the galaxy. He needed her! Who would watch his back without her?

He knelt in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. Her lower lip quivered, and he thumbed away a tear that had broken free. "Your destiny lies along a different path than mine," he told her softly. "The Force is strong with you, Ahsoka. Just... always be true to yourself. Never let anyone doubt you. Never doubt yourself." He was silent for a moment, and Ahsoka resisted the urge to argue. "It was the will of the Force that brought us together," he continued, "and it's the will of the Force we're parting." To her surprise, it sounded like he truly believed it. "Remember your teachings, Snips. You'll be a great Jedi someday." He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a smooth river stone. Turning it over in his hand thoughtfully, he finally said, "Obi-Wan gave me this a long time ago." He pressed it into her hand. "Don't forget me."

Ahsoka's hand closed around the stone, feeling the Force surge around it, carrying echoes of her Master, of Obi-Wan, and another soft, soothing presence she couldn't identify. Now she let the tears fall freely as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I could never forget you," she sighed into his shoulder.

He embraced her swiftly, tightly, then held her at arms length. "I'll be around," he informed her. "I just can't stay here."

She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as he stood. "May the Force be with you, Master."

He clasped his hands together and bowed to her deeply, reverently. "Master Plo will oversee the rest of your training," he said, voice catching, his facade of detached calm faltering. He got into the speeder and as he began to pull away, she heard, "The Force will be with you, Ahsoka. Always."

She stood in the empty docking bay and watched as he piloted the speeder into the twinkling Coruscant night, away from the Jedi and away from her. "I love you," she whispered into the dark loneliness. "Always."

Did Anakin just knee Obi-Wan in the crotch? Yes, yes he did.

2012-01-30T04:03:36Z

I've been reading a lot of the reactions to the past two episodes of Clone Wars with some interest. It looks like this arc has caused a lot of division, especially with the Anakin/Obi-Wan fans. Now, look, I count myself as an Anakin/Obi-Wan fan. I love the idea of them sexing it up across the galaxy. However - and this is a big however - I feel like I have grown away from 'shipping them in a "traditional" sense, in that they are monogamous with each other and so on and so forth. To me, the interest in their dynamics lie in the fact they do have other people and things in their lives that they care about, which sometimes puts them at odds with each other.

Case in point, the past two episodes. For those not "in the know", the basic plot is this: there's a plan to kidnap the Chancellor (haha, suckers, we already know where this is going), so the Council picks its most chameleon-like Jedi (besides Master Liz'ard, who was off doing other shit that day), Obi-Wan Kenobi, to infiltrate the gang of bounty hunters said to do planning the plan. The only way to make sure Obi-Wan's ruse is believed is by him faking his death, and the only way to make sure his faked death is believable is by keeping Anakin Skywalker in the dark.

And herein lies the crux of a lot of the contention I've seen surrounding this arc: the decision to keep Anakin out of the plan. And here, too, is where I give the writers of the Clone Wars a huge deal of credit, because not only was the idea in character and believable, but it fit in with the rest of canon, both movie and other EU.

Now, I'm not going to say I don't think keeping Anakin out of the loop wasn't a dick move, because it was. However, when thinking about the larger picture, both where the series is coming from and where it is heading, it makes perfect sense. And here's why:

A.) Anakin sucks at undercover missions. He SUCKS at them. In fact, he fucked one up not two episodes prior. So here's what Anakin has going against him: a very poor track record of keeping his shit together long enough not to blow his cover. Here is but a brief list - these are just the ones I'm thinking of off the top of my head, so there may be more:

1. When he is in his early teens, he and Obi-Wan have to do something involving pirates and slavers. Siri Tachi, who later grew up to be Duchess Satine (and no one will ever convince me otherwise), was part of an undercover operation with said pirates. The first thing Anakin does is blow Siri's cover. It should be noted that Siri was part of a deep undercover mission that she'd been part of for three years, so it was a huge fucking boner on Anakin's part to screw that up. (Jedi Quest special edition)

2. Anakin and Ferus pose as students at some rich space-boarding-school. Anakin goes off and does his own thing, Ferus disappears, Anakin blows their cover. (Jedi Quest #5)

3. Anakin, Ferus, Siri, and Obi-Wan pose as bounty hunters or some stupid thing. Their cover is blown, more than likely because of Anakin. (Jedi Quest #8)

4. Anakin and Obi-Wan have to pose as Lanteeban farmers. When a theta storm wipes out the shields of the village they're staying in, Anakin, despite being under instructions not to use the Force, does so, blows their cover with not only the villagers but gets Count Dooku on their trail as well. (Gambit: Stealth and Gambit: Siege)

5. Prior-mentioned Zygerrian slave mission. Anakin blows their cover because he refuses to whip Obi-Wan to remain in character. Ends up putting everybody in a way worse situation than they were in prior. (

So see, there's five right off the top of my head. And in each of these cases, Anakin blows their cover because he has taken it upon himself to be the hero and assumes that whatever happens after he reveals himself (and everyone around him) as a Jedi will be cake. It never is, and he always ends up making things worse. So entrusting him not to fuck up such an important mission definitely is not in the cards, as a logical consideration. It would also be difficult to trust his reaction would be as visceral as it was if he knew Obi-Wan was really alive. Anakin can't pretend to be grief-stricken and angry, he just IS those things. The Council - and Obi-Wan know this is a huge weak area for Anakin, so it makes sense to just, you know, not leave that to chance.

Contrarywise, Obi-Wan is mentioned in each of those 5 examples I just made to be really good at undercover missions because he can twist himself to match whatever group he's supposed to be infiltrating. Obi-Wan can give up the self for as long as he needs to in order to achieve his goals. His ego is not such that he has to rely on the mantle of Jedi to accomplish things; in fact, he always seems somewhat surprised when people make a big deal out of who he is. On a similar note, however, Obi-Wan is a consummate Jedi, so when he is recognized, he is recognized pretty hard-core. However, he is fucking awesome at not being recognized. Anakin, on the other hand, is loud and brash and assumes everyone cares that Anakin fucking Skywalker is in the room - even though nobody needs to fucking know he's there.

Which brings me to:

B.) Obi-Wan being the consummate Jedi, will always, always defer to the Council on matters of importance like this. In fact, Obi-Wan has always deferred to the Council except in one important regard: when he tells Yoda he's going to train Anakin regardless of the Council's feelings on the matter. And that's it. After that, Obi-Wan follows the Council's will and although when the Council has Anakin spy on Palpatine near the end and Obi-Wan gently distances himself from it by pointing out that the Council, not Obi-Wan has asked this of Anakin, he is still not outwardly condemning the Council's decision.

Obi-Wan's relationship with the Council is an interesting one, especially when one considers Qui-Gon and Anakin's relationships with it as well. Qui-Gon seemed to take a holistic approach to Jedi-hood, and had no interest whatsoever on being on the Council. Obi-Wan, even in his apprenticeship, saw the Council as something to aspire to ("You could already be on the Council" etc etc) because that meant the height of Jedi-dom. However, Obi-Wan even seems surprised when he himself is named to the Council. Again, because Obi-Wan's always a little taken aback when he is noticed. But regardless, he takes well to his new role and is respected by the others for his wisdom, despite being so comparatively young. The fact Obi-Wan started his time as a Jedi nearly being shipped off to the agri-corps and then almost leaving the order for a time, being on the Council probably felt really strange. But Obi-Wan appreciates the security of the Council, the ritual and the importance. To Obi-Wan, the Council is the Jedi. After Order 66, he admits to Yoda he doesn't feel like he is a Jedi anymore because there is no Order left, no Council besides the two of them. Yoda points out that as long as they have a connection to the Force, they will still be Jedi (RotS novel). This scene really puts into perspective Obi-Wan's view of the Jedi Order and his place in it - without the boundaries and directives of the Council, he does not feel like he is a true Jedi.

Anakin, on the other hand, sees being on the Council as a means to an end. Being on the Council is not the culmination of a life lived in the servitude of the Force, but instead is a way of achieving for himself the power and prestige he feels he is entitled to. It is the rank Anakin is interested in, not the tradition, and where Obi-Wan is quietly appreciative of his new role, Anakin is brashly insulted when he is denied that rank.

If the Council deemed the undercover mission neccessary, and Obi-Wan's role in it neccessary as well, Obi-Wan would go along with it. He wouldn't consider defying the Council, and his suggestion to leave Anakin out of the proceedings speaks to not only his familiarity with Anakin but also his desire to make sure the plan goes as well as it can - after all, he knows how Anakin will react to his "death" - Anakin can be very predictable in his unpredictability sometimes. Obi-Wan will always, always do his duty, and duty will always come before Anakin. Even at the very end, when he begs Yoda to spare him the fate of having to kill his best friend, he still resigns himself to it when Yoda tells him to.

C.) I've read grumbling from the fanbase that there isn't enough Anakin/Obi-Wan interaction in the Clone Wars. And, sure, it's not like the Tartakovsky series where they're together every single moment, but I still posit that Filoni's Clone Wars series is every bit the "Anakin and Obi-Wan show". Everything the one does is influenced by the other, even when they're not together. And, besides that, there are some fantastic Team Fail-centered episodes. I'm at the point in my fandom experience that just because a couple of characters aren't doing it up the rear every thirty seconds, it doesn't mean I don't think their relationship is being properly portrayed.

Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship is deeply flawed, complex, and fascinating to watch unfold, especially since we all know how the story ends. (At least I hope we do - we realize Anakin becomes Vader, right? RIGHT?) It's heartbreaking and tragic and what's interesting about TCW is how it shows the maturation of their partnership (yeah, I said it). Anakin doesn't always need Obi-Wan to tell him what to do - in fact, he's pretty damn good at his job all on his own. Obi-Wan doesn't always need Anakin there to rescue him, though he seems to prefer it when Anakin is around. Actually, the few times Obi-Wan's gotten in a bind without Anakin there to rescue him are the times Obi-Wan has truly proven himself to be a badass. It doesn't happen often, but the times it does happen are pretty fucking awesome.

Basically what I'm saying here is both Anakin and Obi-Wan are adults. They're Jedi, Generals in the Grand Army of the Republic in the middle of a war. They both are fully aware that sacrifices need to be made in the interest of peace and protecting the Republic. Neither of them need their hands held and while Anakin sometimes makes questionable decisions without Obi-Wan around, at this point during the War, Anakin's got his shit together. This point during the War is when Anakin's really at his peak, and it's also at this point during the War that he begins to slip a bit more, and a little bit faster, than we've seen previously in the series. Not fast enough, though, that Obi-Wan's going to come running in time to make a difference. The thing about Anakin's fall to the Dark Side is that it was not the abrupt change of heart it once appeared to be. He's been slipping for a long time, subtly enough that by the time anyone realizes, it's too late and all the Younglings have been made into hat racks and lampshades. It's like when somebody you see every day gains or loses a lot of weight over a lengthy period of time. You don't really notice until all of a sudden one day you look over and are like "Hey, you look different". Well, in Obi-Wan's case, one day he looks over and goes "Hey, you look fucking crazy." And then Anakin tries to kill him because Obi-Wan is right on the money with his assessment of the situation.

Regardless, the point is that The Clone Wars, and the Deception arc in particular, are an amazing exploration of the relationship between Anakin and Obi-Wan. It may not be romantic, but it's real, and it helps explain a little more about Why Things Happened. I'm looking forward to the rest of the arc, though I am a little disappointed that "The Box" doesn't look like it's going to be any of the like five ideas I had for it when I originally saw the title. Oh well. Maybe next season.

Feel free to discuss this in the comments. I may or may not respond depending on how tired/lazy I am, but I'd still like to see some dialogue, mostly so I feel like people like me. ;)

NEW FIC: X-Men: Morning on Genosha

2012-01-25T02:20:11Z

title Morning on Genosha
author citizenjess
rating PG
summary Like the title says, morning on Genosha
notes Prequel to You Can't Take the Sky From Me. Written for citizenjess because sehe was sick today and needed some Charles/Erik goodness.

-----

Even overcast mornings on Genosha have a kind of beauty that can't be found on the mainland. Up early, as has been his custom since before he can remember, Erik Lehnsherr stands on the balcony, hands clapsed behind his back looking out over his kingdom, wrapped in a gauzey grey fog.

He has yet to change into the regalia that marks him the ruler of Genosha, the king of the mutants, and for a moment he feels... normal, like a morning at the mansion before everything changed. He doesn't allow himself to think of that time very often; Charles would say they are so far removed from what they once were, but Erik knows better. Neither of them have changed, but the world has changed around them.

Though, perhaps, just the reality of his life now proves that things do change, because the soft nuzzling in his mind should not be there, not if things didn't change. Charles is waking, reaching out with his gift to say good morning, their own private ritual before the cape and helmet go on.

It had taken years to finally convince Charles to reconsider his resistance to a mutant paradise, to give up his misguided dream of peaceful co-existance. And one day he woke up, and everything changed and it had just always been like that. Charles says things certainly have not always been this way, but Erik does not care.

Good morning. He forms the words clearly in his head, though Charles is more than capable of parsing meaning from feelings and images.

When are you coming back inside? comes Charles' voice inside his skull. When he'd first experienced it, the other man's voice in his head was disconcerting and disturbing, but now it is comforting, familiar. Not, of course, that Erik will ever tell Charles this. It would make the professor entirely too smug, after all.

In a moment, he reponds, taking one more look out over his kingdom, his paradise - and Charles'. He turns, strides back into the palace; all metal, every bit of it, all tuned and ready to obey his whims. The floor is cold on his bare feet, but he welcomes it - he finds himself relishing the scant moments he is not fully-attired, when he is Erik, not Magneto. He never thought he'd feel like that, but Charles has changed everything. Not, Erik thinks, slipping back into their bedroom, for the first time, either.

"Happy anniversary," Charles says from the bed, propped on one elbow, smiling.

Erik offers a smile in return, though he is surprised Charles has remembered. Not *their* anniversary, because that was years ago and he doubts either of them remember the exact date they came into one anothers' lives, but the anniversary of this, of Genosha, of the change that brought them together. A year of beauty and order, and Erik has never been more grateful for whatever twist of fate (or will of his daughter, if Charles is to be believed) has brought them there.

He slides back into bed, pressing his cold toes against the warmth of Charles' calves. Charles hisses scoldingly and pulls his legs away. Erik knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Charles has not always been able to do that, but no matter. He can now. Neither of them talk about that part of the change, partially because Erik is still resistant to the idea that a change has occurred, and partially because Charles seems reticent to discuss it. Erik doesn't mind and is simply glad to have Charles at all.

"It's almost time," Erik says. They have been talking about this day for what seems like ages - not the anniversary, but of what will happen in the coming hours. Charles is every bit a part of Genosha as Erik, and it is time for him to take up the mantle as leader. There will be a speech, a press conference, and Charles will take his rightful place at Magneto's side, a symbol to all mutanthood of what can be accomplished, and a symbol to humankind that the kingdom of Genosha and the House of Magnus is not to be underestimated.

"I know," Charles replies, softly. Erik draws the other man into his arms and lights a gentle kiss on Charles' temple. He has become sentimental in his old age, it seems.

"Are you ready?" In the end, it doesn't matter.

Charles nods, though he is sending some strong anxiety Erik's way. Erik repeats the kiss, and slips back out of bed, holding out a hand for Charles to follow. "Breakfast first," Erik offers.

Charles stands, takes Erik's proferred hand. "Breakfast," he echoes, "and then..."

"Eternity," Erik replies. They walk together out of the room.

NEW FIC: for the greater good

2011-12-27T17:23:37Z

title for the greater good
author patientalien
word count 2068
rating M
summary Anakin is forced to submit to the Zygerrian queen, in more ways than one.
notes Written for the "forced to participate in illegal/hurtful activity" prompt on my hc_bingo card. AU of the "Slaves of the Republic" story arc (comic and show)
warnings non-graphic non-con, torture/violence, character death

------

From the beginning, Anakin could tell Ahsoka had been disgusted with him. He flirted unabashedly with the Queen, whispering filthy suggestions of what they could do together. She'd watched him allow the Queen to treat him like her property, touching him without asking, letting his own fingertips linger a bit too long on her skin. Lars Quell was, as Ahsoka had so dramatically proclaimed, a brigand. Anakin Skywalker, on the other hand, was forcing himself to swallow bile as he worked for the adoration of a woman whose very existence made him feel ill.

He tried not to think about Padme, about whether she would consider this infidelity. He would never treat her in such a way, with lurid proclamations and bold touches; he knew well how she felt about that kind of behavior. But he hoped, in the back of his mind as he tried not to think about her, she would understand. She'd done the same with Rush Clovis, after all. Surely she would understand the line between duty and the personal, surely she would understand how abhorant this was to him. Then again, she might never find out, which is what he found himself truly hoping for.

He stood at Miraj's side, watching the slave auction play out far below them in the arena. He was reminded, briefly, unpleasantly, of Geonosis, which made him think of his mother, which made him even angrier at the role he was playing. What would she think of him, if she saw what he was doing? He hoped she, like Padme, would understand.

One of the Zygerrian slavers entered the arena, and Anakin found his attention pulled downwards. For a moment, he wasn't sure he'd heard the announcement correctly, but then Obi-Wan was pushed into the center of the arena, tunic and trousers ripped, a slave collar around his neck, hands bound in front of him. Anakin forced himself not to react, but fire was racing through his blood, his vision going splotchy. Beside him, Ahsoka snarled and he gave her a sharp look - now was not the time to blow their cover. Miraj smiled and placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder. He felt, distantly, the handle of an electro-whip being gently pressed into his hand. "Show them," she whispered. "Show them the Jedi are nothing compared to us. Prove your loyalty to our cause."

He wasn't loyal to their cause. He loathed it with every fiber of his being. But, again, he was not himself, in this moment. He was Lars Quell, slaver, brigand, womanizer. Obi-Wan would never forgive him if he messed this up, if he gave in to instincts that screamed at him that he should kill the Queen now, grab his lightsaber from Artoo, run her through, toss her off the balcony, free all the slaves.

I didn't come here to free slaves. Qui-Gon had said that, so many years ago. And, technically, that was not Anakin's mission either, not in so many words. It gnawed at him, the inability to act, to reveal himself as not only a Jedi, but as Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, the slave boy plucked from obscurity and sent into a greater world with a greater purpose. His hand clenched around the whip and he closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Of course, my lady," he said, the words catching in his throat. He swung off the balcony, landing with graceful ease in the dust on the arena floor.

His eyes met Obi-Wan's, and he whispered along their bond, I can't do this. Obi-Wan's expression hardened. "You must," he whispered once Anakin was close. "You are already forgiven for what is about to happen. Do not let it trouble you." Obi-Wan took a deep breath, as if struggling with something himself. "Anakin, this once, give in to your anger. Use it against me."

Anakin shook his head. "Master, I can't." He tightened his grip on the whip's handle, frowning, prowling around Obi-Wan as though this were just part of the act. He knew what would happen if he gave into his anger; Obi-Wan, and everyone else in the arena, would suffer. If he let loose, he wouldn't be able to control his powers, or himself. And he didn't know if he'd ever be able to regain that control.

"You must," Obi-Wan replied, and his tone brooked no argument. "This is your duty, Anakin."

Something inside of him snapped in that moment. "I am so tired," he snarled, "of my duty!" His boot struck Obi-Wan's ribs, knocking the older man onto his side. The crowd cheered. Obi-Wan rose to his hands and knees and Anakin cracked the whip against the dusty ground, anger and frustration and despair flooding through him in an overpowering wave. He could do this. He had to do this. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and Rex and all of these slaves - they were all relying on him to go against everything he'd ever believed in, and it made him angry. He saw Obi-Wan brace himself and snapped the whip out again, this time letting it crack across Obi-Wan's back, electricity dancing along his body. With the second blow, Obi-Wan cried out.

Anakin shut himself off.

-----

"For a while, I wasn't sure you had what it took," Miraj informed him, later, pouring the wine. Anakin took the proffered glass and tried not to gulp it down, tried to make it look like he wasn't shaking from head to toe with remorse, with guilt and the lingering anger, still hot in his veins. "But you did well." She ran her fingers down his arm, and he tried not to flinch away. Across the room, Ahsoka watched, concern in her eyes. "I wish to celebrate our new partnership," Miraj announced.

"And how do you propose to do that, my lady?" Anakin asked. He didn't feel like playing this game anymore, had no desire to keep up the charade. He'd come this far, though, and if he had any chance of freeing Obi-Wan, he had to keep playing.

She gave him a lascivious smile, and Anakin felt his stomach clench. "Send your slave to rest," she suggested, voice lilting with desire. "Unless you want her to join in..."

"NO," Anakin said quickly, sharper than perhaps he should have. "No. She, uh, she has not been trained as a pleasure slave." He swallowed heavily. "I would hate to have Your Highness experience something of lesser quality than you deserve." He turned to Ahsoka. "Go to the slave's quarters, skug," he snarled at her. "I will call for you when you're needed." He hoped she understood his unspoken Look for Obi-Wan; he was sure she would anyway.

She looked enormously unhappy, but did as he'd told her, bowing slightly (though reluctantly) before making her way out of the room, flanked by Miraj's guards. He hoped she didn't do anything stupid. "Now," Miraj said, taking his hand and leading him to the bed, "Show me, Lars Quell, how you would serve your Queen."

With slightly fumbling fingers, Anakin stripped out of his stolen disguise, realizing with trepidation that as soon as he revealed his mechanical arm, the chances she would recognize him would increase tenfold. But perhaps that would be for the best. Perhaps, if she revealed him herself, he would be free to act how he deemed appropriate, which included killing her.

Still, when he peeled off the glove, she didn't seem to put the pieces together, merely asking him mildly what manner of accident had led to such an accessory. "Ah, hardly worth considering, Majesty," Anakin replied.

Miraj reclined on the bed, arching her body in invitation. He carefully divest her of her gown, undoing lacings that reminded him, painfully, of those on some of Padme's more ornate outfits. "You have very skilled hands," the Queen commended as he slid them down her body. She was beautiful, Anakin had to admit, but it was a terrible, cold beauty, nothing like the warmth and joy that came with his wife.

"They are for you, Your Highness," Anakin said, swallowing his disgust, breathing erratic.

The Queen offered him a haughty look. "Yes," she said thoughtfully, "they are."

-----

The Queen had fallen asleep. Anakin stared at her, her pale features illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the window. He flexed his hand, resisting the temptation to strangle her where she lay. She seemed to sense his attention on her because she shifted, rolled over, opened her eyes. "Don't you sleep?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

With difficulty, Anakin tamped down his anger. "And miss out on seeing your beauty?" He felt sick, filthy as if he'd been crawling through the swamps of Drongar. Then, he decided to end it. "A favor, though, Majesty."

She propped herself up on her elbows and considered him. "Name it, Lars Quell," she replied, still glowing from their exertions.

Anakin cleared his throat. "The Jedi," he said. "Kenobi."

Miraj awarded him with a sly smile. "You wish to have him as your own," she surmised. "Break him yourself?"

Anakin forced himself to nod. "Yes, Highness. I..." He paused, gathering his words. "I want to prove myself further to you," he said, finally. "And I thought breaking the Jedi..."

She waved her hand. "Of course," she replied blithely, reaching over to her bedside table for her communicator. "Bring up the Jedi," she commanded. For the brief moment she was distracting, Anakin activated his own commlink, signaling Ahsoka and Artoo to return to the Queen's chambers. She turned back to Anakin. "Now," she said. "How shall we pass the time?"

-----

Anakin was fairly sure he'd never been more relieved to see his former Master. Obi-Wan looked terrible, beaten and bloody. Anger surged through Anakin again, and he clenched his fists in an attempt to calm himself. There was little he could do without Artoo, but he sent a brief flash of his plan to Obi-Wan, who merely looked at him in resignation.

Miraj circled around Obi-Wan, appraising him coolly, regally. She laid the electro-whip in Anakin's outstretched palm. "Break the Jedi," she whispered, licking the shell of his ear. Anakin winced, hefted the whip in his hand as Artoo and Ahsoka appeared in the doorway.

"Let's go, buddy," Anakin murmured to Artoo, and struck, the whip wrapping itself around the Queen's neck. His lightsaber flew through the air, propelled by the astromech, and he activated it, pulling Miraj closer with the whip. Behind him, he heard three more 'sabers ignite. "Now, Highness," he growled, angling his blade towards her heart, "We're going to talk about the people of Kiros."

"Do you really think this show of brute force is going to sway me?" she snarled, voice shaking as electricity coursed through her body.

"You WILL release the slaves," Anakin snarled back, pushing with the Force, harder than he needed to. The Queen crumpled; he held her up with his hand around her throat.

"Anakin..."

He ignored Obi-Wan, favoring Miraj with all of his anger. "Release the slaves, and I'll let you live," he informed her, though at the moment he was fairly certain that was a lie.

The door exploded and suddenly half of the 501st was flanking him. He grinned, feral, the rush of victory spreading through him, intoxicating. "General Skywalker," one of them said. "Resolute and Indomitable are in orbit and ready to release the bombers on your command."

Anakin turned back to Miraj. "Your move, Highness," he said, summoning her comm with the Force and handing it to her.

"You're still a slave," Miraj spit. "With me, you could have had greatness." Still, she keyed in a command. "Perhaps you still can." She reached out a hand. "We could rebuild our empire."

"The slavers have stood down," one of the clones announced. "We'll begin transporting the slaves up to the Resolute." Anakin nodded, focused still on Miraj.

"I will never serve your empire," Anakin hissed, and drew her forward, skewering her on his lightsaber. He took a step back, shocked at himself, blade retracting with a snap.

"Oh, Anakin," Obi-Wan murmured over Ahsoka's surprised whimper.

Anakin shook his head and turned back to them. "Let's go home," he said, voice rough, shaking. He tried not to see Obi-Wan's disappointment, Ahsoka's horror, and tried not to think about how wonderful that brief, terrible moment had been.

It was, after all, for the greater good.

NEW FIC: A Very Merry Life Day

2011-12-26T18:54:11Z

title A Very Merry Life Day
author patientalien
rating PG-13
summary The first Life Day Ahsoka spends with her new Master. It goes about as well as expected
notes Based, as usual, on conversations with citizenjess, who also provided assistance. Takes place in the "Corellia"-verse, pre-"What Happens on Corellia".

-----

When Ahsoka Tano palmed open the door to her Master's quarters late on Life Day morning, she was greeted by the smell of burning... something and the sounds of her Master and Master Obi-Wan arguing. "I asked you to keep an eye on the timer, Anakin!" Obi-Wan was saying. "I realize even the simplest of tasks is beyond your abilities, but I would think in the spirit of the season, you would have made at least a minor effort."

"It's hardly my fault, Master," Anakin responded as Ahsoka showed herself in. "You're the one who distracted me." He glanced over, suddenly noticing his apprentice. "Hey, Snips."

"Uh, happy Life Day?" she said, proffering a pair of small, brightly-wrapped gifts. Jedi as a rule did not celebrate holidays in the same manner as the rest of the galaxy. As Life Day was recognized nearly galaxy-wide, though, the Jedi made something of an exception. Most of the Order chose to spend the holiday doing works of charity. However, Anakin and Obi-Wan were always a little different; Anakin having spent his formative years in an environment that encouraged celebration whenever possible. Obi-Wan had allowed traditions to form, small gifts to be exchanged. Ahsoka hadn't known quite what to expect, honestly.

"Is the oven still on?" Ahsoka asked, walking back to the small kitchen area. She had assumed that, even while arguing about leaving something too long in the oven, they would have thought to turn it off. Apparently not. She slung her robe over one of the chairs and turned the oven off, looking up as Anakin stormed in.

"Bring the brandy back out here, Anakin," Obi-Wan called. Anakin glowered and picked up the aforementioned brandy bottle, raising it to his lips and swallowing down the contents.

"Uh..." Ahsoka offered as Anakin coughed. "Why?"

"Because it pisses him off," Anakin explained, voice rough, as if that made perfect sense. Except, as far as Ahsoka could tell, it didn't. "There isn't any left, Master!" Anakin called back to the living room. "You musta drank it all!" He burped, loudly. Ahsoka sighed as Obi-Wan appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"Please, Anakin, a little decorum, if you would," Obi-Wan scolded, rummaging through the cabinets before emerging with another brown bottle, a look of victory in his eyes. Ahsoka raised a white-marked brow.

"It's... before noon," she pointed out as Obi-Wan poured himself a glass, slapping Anakin's hand away from the bottle.

"It's a holiday!" Anakin replied brightly. "It's tradition!"

Ahsoka wasn't sure she quite believed that one, but Obi-Wan seemed happy enough to agree with her Master, so she merely shrugged. "So, uh, what were you trying to make?" She had a feeling it was going to be her task to rectify whatever they'd screwed up, food-wise.

"Anakin was supposed to be making stuffed nerf," Obi-Wan informed her. "But he neglected to get the stuffing or the nerf."

Ahsoka opened and closed her mouth several times as she processed that. "So... what's in the oven?" She was almost afraid of the answer.

Anakin burped again. "I found some kinda meat in the freezer. I guess it, uh, it was Obi-Wan's fault."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and sipped his drink. "Yes, Anakin, it was entirely my fault. And now we have nothing to eat for Life Day dinner."

Ahsoka began edging towards the door. "Uh, I could run out and get some food," she offered, hoping to keep the peace as much as possible.

Anakin grinned at her. "Yeah! Snips'll go!"

"Bring back some more brandy," Obi-Wan added in agreement.

-----

The crowds at the store were incredible, and she had to fight an elderly Klatoonian for the last fresh nerf, but Ahsoka emerged victorious. When she returned to the apartment, she wasn't overly surprised to see several broken dishes on the floor of the living room. She was surprised to see her Master straddling Obi-Wan's lap, licking the side of his neck.

She cleared her throat, loudly. "Ahem!"

Obi-Wan looked mildly uncomfortable, but Anakin was completely nonplussed, laughing as he slid off Obi-Wan's lap. "Took ya long enough," he informed her.

"So, do you want to help me make the nerf, or..." Anakin stumbled over to her, grabbing her bags, rifling through the contents until he found the liquor she'd procured. "Master, you've had enough for now."

"Yes, Anakin," Obi-Wan slurred from the sofa. "You've had enough. But I... I have not."

Ahsoka sighed for what felt like the millionth time and went into the kitchen to prepare the meal. By the time the tubers were peeled and the oven had re-heated, Anakin had reappeared in the kitchen, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. "So you havin' a good Life Day so far?" he asked, closing one eye in an attempt to get her into focus.

"I guess," Ahsoka replied, unsure if she was allowed to point out when Jedi senior to her were acting stupid. "I guess... well, when I was an Initiate, it was different. I guess I didn't expect you and Master Obi-Wan to just be... well... whatever it is you're doing."

Anakin let out a breath. "Look, Snips," he said in his I'm going to lecture you now voice. "Everybody celebrates in their own way. Me an' Obi-Wan, we're just, y'know..."

"Getting drunk and acting like Younglings?" Ahsoka prompted, not entirely regretting it, either. She knew she should probably be more deferential to her new Master, but she couldn't help herself.

"Sure," Anakin replied agreeably - which meant he hadn't heard her, or he was too drunk to care she'd just called him a Youngling. Either was a fairly good option at this point. "Anyway, I'll letcha get back to..." He waved his hand vaguely towards the oven and sauntered back to the living room. Ahsoka scowled at his retreating back, but returned to her cooking nonetheless - she was getting hungry.

-----

"I hate that plant."

"Hate is of the Dark Side, my Master. 'Sides, it's your fault i's dead. F'you'd just let me water it..."

"Peeing on something is not watering it, Anakin, as I've tol' you on sev-many occasions."

"Well, here, then."

Ahsoka risked poking her head out of the kitchen just in time to see Anakin unsteadily pick up the potted plant that normally resided by the door and bring it to the sliding door onto the balcony. It took him a few tries to get out the door, and only succeeded once Obi-Wan stumbled over and actually opened it. With a flourish and a bit of the Force, Anakin threw the plant over the balcony rail.

"Oh, Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed. "I liked that plant."

-----

Ahsoka checked the timer once more. Just an hour to go, which was a blessing because she wasn't sure how much longer she wanted to listen to her Master and her Master's Master screaming at each other about Geonosis. She wasn't sure how the conversation had started, since she'd decided to stay safely in the kitchen until the meal was ready, but she assumed the liquor consumption she'd been witnessing hadn't let up, which probably had something to do with it.

"Oh stop crying!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, which got Ahsoka's attention. She peeked out of the kitchen, frowning slightly at the sight of her Master standing - swaying - in the middle of the living room, face scrunched up as it trying to stop the tears from falling. "By all means, keep acting as if you're the only one who's ever lost something - it makes you very boring, Anakin."

"Says the guy who never shu's up 'bout Qui-Gon," Anakin replied shakily. "Talk 'bout boring, Mas'er."

Ahsoka ducked back into the kitchen just as Obi-Wan flung a boot at Anakin's head.

-----

The scuffle had lasted long enough for the nerf to finish cooking and the rolls to be browned. Finally, Ahsoka sighed in accomplishment as she finished preparing the plates. She was starving, and she was very eager to get some food into the two inebriated Jedi in the living room.

Using the Force to balance all three plates, she made her way back into the living room, stopping short at the sight that greeted her. Obi-Wan lay sprawled on the floor, Anakin on top of him, his long limbs entwined in the older man's. "And... you're sleeping," Ahsoka muttered to herself. "Great."

Well, she wasn't going to let all of her hard work go to waste. She settled onto the sofa, pulling a blanket around herself, and turned on the holonet projector. "More food for me," she said, digging in. Maybe Life Day with her Master wasn't so bad after all.

Fandom Meme Time!

2011-12-13T16:47:57Z

1. Tell me about a story I haven't written, and I'll give you between one and three sentences from that story.

2. In a continuing quest to do everything ever fannishly other than the things I should be doing, I'm going to steal a post from [various people] and ask if you have any questions re: any of the stories I've written - what happens before, after, or in that scene in the middle that never got written, what the other characters were thinking about [x], whatever you've wondered about. (I can't promise I'll have a very good answer for everything, but you could very well get a new little ficlet in the verse out of it. \o/?)

Stolen from citizenjess and pearl_o, respectively.

NEW FIC! "it's broken (i don't want to play)"

2011-12-09T02:32:11Z

title it's broken (i don't want to play)
author patientalien
rating PG-13
summary Anakin and Ahsoka
notes Written while listening to "Evelyn Evelyn" by Amanda Palmer and Jason Webley (strongly influenced by it, actually - title, cut-text, and some dialogue from the song). Is basically the absolute opposite in feeling than what I actually feel atm, LOL. (I also stole a bit of phrasing from myself and one of my other fics... oops)

-----

They grow up together, Master and Padawan, five years apart - youngest Master in the Order, oldest Padawan chosen for apprenticeship, and they grow up dancing around each other, waltzing as they teach and learn and give and take. "What will we do tonight - what will we eat today - will we be sparring (we just did that yesterday)."

The war fuses them together, no chance for escaping one another, not on missions where living quarters are a cramped tent made for one - they sleep breathing into one another's necks - and where their survival hinges on how well the one knows the other.

Closer than anything, closer sometimes than Master and his own Master (but they're not looking, anyway), blind eyes are turned because Master is known for this kind of thing and if he is winning the war, they will punish him after it's over.

Things crack under the strain; men die, hurts are dwelled upon, allowed to fester. They watch each other sleeping, resentment builds, neither of them asked for this, to be thrust together, to never get a break, to never feel in control of their own fate. Master, especially, is hobbled by his title and the prophecy and the idea that his very existence is not for himself.

Darkness dwells just beneath the surface, bubbling up through the cracks in the veneer. Padawan tries to help - "I'm only trying to do what's best!"

"I never asked for this. I never wanted this! All I want is some kriffing time to myself!"

Sparring turns violent, bitterness taking form of training 'sabers and Force pushes. They go too far, leave bruises (and scratches down one another's backs). Padawan winces, Master freezes.

"Are you scared of me?"

"You never cared for me!"

"You never listen!"

"You're always insisting!"

And, together, a howled chorus - "I just want my privacy, why won't you leave me alone?"

They break apart, sever their bonds, but the battles keep drawing them together, and they sew themselves back up, the edges frayed, tempers flare. Master enters, Padawan allows, the Council is suspicious, but the team is unstoppable. Glory and honor and scars and blood and they find themselves in those dark secret places (the same dark secret places Master shared with his own Master) and the threads holding them together snap, one by one, and are replaced piecemeal, and again and again and the Council (they're watching us, anyway) sees.

The Darkness consumes him in a monstrous wave, and when it finally ends and the smoke clears and Padawan stands on the ruins of what was once her life, holding the tattered remains of Master's presence (he is still alive, somewhere, but that doesn't matter) and she has her privacy and the galaxy is empty for her.

Meme Time!

2011-12-06T03:36:41Z

So, I stole this from citizenjess

Give me a pairing from one of my fandoms, and I will tell you:

1. Who is the big spoon/little spoon
2. What is their favorite non-sexual activity
3. Who uses all the hot water in the morning
4. What they order from take out
5. What is the most trivial thing they fight over
6. Who does most of the cleaning
7. Who controls what they watch on TV
8. Who's the one to always push to go out for a change
9. Who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working
10. Who steals the blankets
11. Who leaves their stuff around
12. Who remembers to buy the milk
13. Who remembers anniversarie