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The Faithful and Ferocious	By : HatefulWitch Category: Star Wars (All) > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3334 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money off of it.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Tsunami tears breaking over quivering lashes still highly affected him even after all these years. You would think I'd be desensitized to it by this point. One teardrop took him back to a time when he was not yet a Jedi Master and his little padawan was being mistreated by other younglings. Two teardrops took him back to when his padawan graduated to Jedi Knight and begged not to be moved out of the billet they shared. More than two teardrops reminded him of his friend's anguish when Shmi was lost. The only thing in the galaxy he was weaker for than tears was full-on sobbing. Anakin's sobs were like a baby's cry that shut down any logical reasoning and awakened the parental-like need to console. The nerve-frying whimpers and wails at the farm made him want to curl up with Anakin in the back of the landspeeder until the world died.
Every little sniffle tempted him to pull over as they drove home. He tried to tune out the heart-puncturing noises to get back to the house as quickly as possible. There, he could cool Anakin off and brew some dagoban bentaxne berry tea. The sooner he calmed the waters, the sooner he could unmask the trigger for this episode. Even when Anakin was younger, there would be a reason for his untoward words and actions. The triggers were usually based in reason but wrapped in irrational emotions and by the time the emotions swallowed the reason, he had a tendency to overreact or exaggerate things. Very few people were willing to try to peel back the emotions to get down to the logic behind his behavior. Anyone able to withstand his intensity knew to look for a crux. There was always a trigger.
Obi-Wan would never forget about the holomessage he received right before he went into the Jedi Temple central security station to teach younglings the ins and outs of the Jedi recall signal. He didn't have time to watch the message beforehand and forgot about it by the time he was done. The entire rotation passed without him watching or responding to it. At sundown, he'd headed for his temporary living quarters in the Temple accommodation sector. As his front door came into view, a black-clothed blur pinned him against the wall.
-::-::-
Anakin's left forearm pressed horizontally against his chest, "Why did you ignore my fragging holomessage?"
He pushed against the assaulting elbow and wrist to try to alleviate the pressure on his torso, "I…I wasn't ignoring it. I didn't even know it was from you. I forgot to open it. I was busy today."
The pressure on his chest lightened as a couple of gloved fingers hoisted to eye-level, "You can't take two fucking minutes to respond to my message?"
"I didn't know you had sent it, I said," he clutched the upheld fingers. "I forgot about it."
The digits yanked out of his grip and the arm on his chest dropped, "If you don't want to talk to me, tell me to my kriffing face."
The blonde firmly gripped the taller man's shoulders, "What are you talking about? I was busy. I forgot. It was an accident. It wasn't some veiled message that I don't want to be friends." Distressed oceanic eyes magnetized towards the ground while an awkward silence choked the air between them. His fingers moved a couple inches down the Jedi Knight's arms, "What's wrong? Why are you so upset over this?"
"I'm not," Anakin stepped back in attempt to retreat.
Obi-Wan was quick to move with him, holding tight to his shoulders, "Yes, you are. You stalked me to my quarters, pinned me against a wall, and accused me of abandoning you." Oh! A gentle finger hooked under his chin and lifted his head, "You think I'm abandoning you because I forgot to answer a holomessage?"
"Well, when you say it like that, I sound like a needy, insecure, obsessive psychopath," he swallowed heavily and again tried to turn out of the Jedi Master's hold.
The grip on his biceps became firmer, "I forgot to check it. That's all." He was promptly dragged toward the quarters he had been staking out for half an hour, "Come on. I think I have enough leftover game fowl for both of us."
-::-::-
Obi-Wan was familiar with Anakin's triggers. Most of the time he was set off by fear. Fear of abandonment, fear of loss, fear of invalidation, fear of weakness. More often than not, he responded with anger. Through anger, he had strength: the destruction was turned outwards so it couldn't be turned inwards. It was a defense mechanism in its purest form. While his anger was almost always fueled by fear, his tears could be fueled by anything. Self-degradation, loneliness, sadness, pain, guilt, nostalgia, hopelessness...
Everything was maslas before he went off by himself. I heard him climb onto the hood of the speeder. He would have been facing us. Looking at us. Obi-Wan sat for a moment with the sound of little snivels dancing around his head. You're really good with him. His head tilted uncertainly and he blinked in realization. He said he wished he had my instincts. Does he think I'd be a better father than him? Or that he's a bad father? On the basis that I played in the sand with Luke longer than he did? His fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter. That doesn't seem like something he would fret over. Then again, I never thought he'd fret over his body and worth like he has these past months.
He was brought out of his deep rumination when mechno-fingers slowly inched up the passenger's door. Realizing the house was growing larger and larger on the horizon, he prepared himself for the oncoming chase. As soon as they came to a stop, Anakin flung the door open and jettisoned out of the vehicle. Obi-Wan managed to cut the engine but didn't get around to closing the driver's door as he scrambled after his fleeing housemate. He skipped almost all of the landing stairs and dived forward to latch onto a flailing cybernetic wrist, "What happened?"
The response seemed wholly disingenuous given the lack of eye contact and emotionless tone, "I needed to cry I guess. I don't know."
He delicately guided Anakin closer and settled his free hand on the Tatooinian's small waist, "After calling yourself filthy?" The straying teardrops that streaked down sun-dusted cheeks let him know how genuine the self-denigration at the salt flat was. "What went through your head while I was playing with Luke?"
Frantically flapping eyes sealed shut, "I'm not discussing this."
Obi-Wan's hand moved upwards, wisely sliding away from the man's waist before reassuringly squeezing, "You need-"
"I'm not discussing this! Let go of my Force-fucking wrist!" the younger Force-sensitive aggressively jerked his arm free.
Obi-Wan didn't want to let Anakin walk away with those cataract waterfalls cascading down his cheeks. The thought of the disgraced Jedi sitting alone, crying, thinking he's filthy was unbearable. Obi-Wan knew, however, he had no say in the matter when he heard the extra bedroom door close. I wish you wouldn't shut me out. It took him a couple minutes to calm his erratic emotions enough to breathe normally again. He tried to find ho-hum tasks to distract himself with so he wouldn't commit an invasion of privacy and demand a therapy session. Why can't you talk to me?
He knew it was painful to be Anakin, there was no way it wasn't, but it was pretty damn painful to be on the receiving end of Anakin's suffering too. There were times when he would be shut out, insulted or screamed at, accused of doing or thinking something he didn't do or think. There were times when the emotional manipulation was relentless or when he was forced to sit and watch self-destruction so great that it was almost comical, like it couldn't happen in real life. It'd been this way long before any contact with the dark side, but since their reunion, all the agony, emotions, and destruction had only intensified. He knew the pain was so consuming that Anakin rarely thought or cared how it affected other people.
That's why he absorbed all the screams and insults and calmly challenged the false accusations and sometimes let himself be manipulated. That's why he did anything he could to heal the self-inflicted damage. That's why he didn't barge into that bedroom and say Your pain is so great that it hurts me, too. He would undoubtedly push back when pushed to the limit, but he'd act as a receptacle for every single hateful, expletive-heavy tantrum to ease some of the pain. It didn't matter what happened to him; he would always play this role. Because I'll never get burned out on you, faneta.
Hours passed and Anakin still hadn't come out of the extra bedroom. Eventually the worry was too back-breaking to carry. Obi-Wan wasn't going to demand conversation, but he was going to make sure Anakin knew he cared. A couple silent moments passed after he knocked on the door. He wasn't sure his call was going to be answered when the door finally cracked open. The two tear-stained, bloodshot eyes that glowed like auroras from inside the pitch-black bedroom almost made him demand entry. It took every last bit of willpower to retain composure, "I wanted to check on you."
Tone and facial expression remained impassive, "I'm fine."
He tried not to show his disappointment at this aloofness, "Try to get some rest. Call for me if you need anything."
The younger man's soft, gruff voice stalled him when he turned to walk away, "Thanks for letting me cry on you today."
The slight tug at the corner of Anakin's lips gave him some amount of solace. He adopted a similar expression, "Anything to help."
::::
The next three weeks and four rotations proved to be a rather arduous state of affairs. Given how contentiously his questions were shut down after they dashed from the landspeeder, Obi-Wan knew better than to try to rehash the Filthy Fit. Be that as it may, his reticence didn't seem to stop his housemate from growing increasingly cynical and disengaged. Originally, any conversation that went beyond cordial pleasantries was brushed off. As the rotations swung by, Anakin grew more scornful. Obi-Wan couldn't identify what triggered the Filthy Fit or what perpetuated this ongoing irritable episode. He didn't want to ask too many questions and risk worse upset so for many rotations, he was in the dark.
The temptation to walk, run, and drink was strong as he tossed and turned in bed. He was even more tempted to grab his stubborn friend by the shoulders and demand what was wrong. There has to be a way to approach this without setting him off again.
A rapid drumming unexpectedly vibrated against his eardrums. He tried to ignore it and continue simmering in his thoughts, but the relentless thudding persisted. Intending to silence the distracting noise, he annoyedly made his way into the sitting room. Somehow, he wasn't all that surprised to find Anakin sitting at the kitchen table, quickly tapping the edge of a spoon against its surface. The brunette's elbow was parked on the tabletop with his hand propped under his chin. He stared intently at the wall, paying no mind to the rapping utensil in his mechno-hand. It was clearly a mindless preoccupation.
Like so many times in the previous weeks, Obi-Wan tried to make conversation, "Bout of insomnia?" He received only a choleric mhm and an echoing tap, tap, tap. "Have you tried any spiced tea?"
"No."
"Rbollean petal-oil?"
"No."
"W-"
"I'm trying to think," the unkind bark axed into any further suggestions. "The insomnia is welcome."
Sometimes the only way to love you is to tell you when enough is enough. Obi-Wan impatiently streamed his fingers through his hair, "Your attitude isn't welcome." The spoon stopped tapping. "For the past three weeks, you have been snappy and ill-mannered with me. I've tried to allow it while you come to terms with whatever you're facing, but you can't transfer your anger and upset from it onto me."
The ends of the spoon jangled against the table before it came to a rest. Anakin laced his fingers together and gritted his teeth. It's not his fault he doesn't want an unfeeling miscreation that's been tainted by the darkness. The last person that deserved his vitriol was the only person in his life who had ever truly understood and accepted him as he was. Treat him with the respect he deserves, you prick. He slowly turned apologetic eyes to the blonde, "You're right. I'm sorry."
Obi-Wan strutted to the oka-wood table, "Talk to me. There's nothing that can't be said between us. What's wrong?"
He had to turn away from the spine-tingling emeralds shining down on him. What's wrong is I want to merge our energies. I want to say 'I love you' and have you say it back. I want to hear the moans your perfect lips would make when I massage pressure points on your feet. I want you to tell me I'm beautiful and desirable. I want to bathe every inch of you with my tongue. I want us to cuddle up so I can fall asleep to your heartbeat in my ear. I want to forge a soul bond between us. I want us to leave stupid, sickening, cutesy notes around for each other, fuck it all. I want us to live together in this house on this sand-infested planet with my children.
A torturous ache whipped around his chest. Burning guilt. Crushing shame. Your wife appreciates you lusting after some man in her place. Your children are especially proud. Daddy killed Mommy so he could get fucked in the ass. You're a disgrace. He knew he was dishonoring the memory of his wife and the last labor of her breath. If he truly loved her, his heart would have died with her and he wouldn't be able to even think about loving someone else. Yet here he was, craving his best friend and treating his children like ornaments to jazz up their nonexistent relationship. You were a terrible husband and you're an even worse father. Why don't you tell Obi-Wan how much you hate your wife and children?
His palms pressed into his eye sockets in an attempt to conceal his tears, "Force-damn it. I'm lost and incomplete and I feel like I'm searching for something I'll never find. I keep trying to fill this void, but I can't. How can you fill the void when the only shit that gives you fulfillment is withheld? It's not on the radar, you'll never find it; you're never going to have it."
Obi-Wan blinked in disbelief before stooping down, "Remember when I told you I was having déjà vu from when you were a teenager? I'm really having it now." He grasped one of the rungs on the back of Anakin's chair, "You've said that to me in a kitchen before. Different words, same sentiment. Do you remember what happened after you said it to me back then?" Mismatched hands apprehensively lowered from reddened eyes, "You grew into the most cocksure, self-reliant man in the galaxy. Within only a few months of you saying it, Drallig told you your animal totem was the jaguarete. For your peerless confidence and power, wasn't it?"
He laid his free hand on the nearest mechanical knee, "Despite what you feel at this moment, you will reclaim your fortitude and if you follow your past patterns, it will be stronger than before. Which, Force help us if you become more arrogant than before." He felt a small victory at the little smile he received. "I know you don't want to talk about what's bothering you, but you must remember you have an extraordinary soul that cannot be kept in the dark. Remember you can always look towards the light and find the way home."
"Do you remember how easy it used to be?" The uncertainty on Obi-Wan's face incited the specification, "Between us."
The uncertainty was still present though the Jedi smiled, "You have never made things easy, my dear padawan." The ashamed expression he witnessed prompted him to pinch the morose man's chin, "We will always be best friends. Through lies and death and madness. All the awful things that have happened between us had to happen because we care about each other."
"Not at the end of..."
Obi-Wan gently trailed the back of his index finger across his friend's jaw, "I care about you and I had to stop you from doing awful things."
Anakin's voice was almost pleading, "You should have killed me."
His smile dwindled and his gaze grew stern, "The last thing Senator Amidala said was There's still good in him." He intently watched as the bleakness in Anakin's eyes transformed into incredulity and amazement. His hand tentatively laid against a bony shoulder, "I knew that as well as she did which is why I couldn't…I would never be able to kill you. No matter what you do." Living without you is the definition of purgatoric misery. A miniscule grin stretched over his lips, "Maybe it hasn't been easy between us, but-"
"Enjoyable?" Anakin shyly murmured.
Obi-Wan's smile widened, "I should hope I remember enjoyable times between us. One occurred recently."
"Six years ago?" the Tatooinian half-heartedly jested.
"No, today." The blonde retracted his hands and stood up, "I'm going back to bed. I'd advise not to welcome your insomnia much longer."
"I'm not. I'm going to bed, too," the brunette stood to push his seat under the table, "goodnight."
Obi-Wan turned on his heel with a wave of the hand, "Goodnight, jaguarete."
Hands were on hips instantly, "Don't call me that."
"Why not? At least you have a nickname you know the meaning of."
I should have known he didn't buy that kindred spirit banthashit.
::::
Anakin jumped at the deafening explosion that shook the walls of the house.
Doses of panic raced through his mind like a meteor shower. Obi-Wan definitely just walked out the front door. He hurriedly sprinted up the stairs of the landing, smacked the panel to open the front door, and dashed into the hot desert day. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the blinding suns as he frantically looked around for the source of the blast. The anterior area of the house was as pristine as could be. He couldn't even find any footprints. He rocketed towards the rear of the house, fearful intruders had harmed or abducted Obi-Wan. As soon as he rounded the back corner, his hand slapped over his mouth in an attempt to hold back laughter.
The Jedi Master stood in stock-still shock with his hands held out defensively in front of his chest as water dripped from every inch of his thoroughly soaked person. Liquid leaked out the outlet of the busted pump at his feet, adding to an ever-growing pool in the sand.
The derision was evident in Anakin's voice, "What the hell did you do? Did you close off the pump suction and discharge valves to see what would happen?" The fish-out-of-water look directed towards him only added to his mirth, "Did you just want to go swimming?"
Obi-Wan finally found his voice, "Oh, good, that's very good, stand there and laugh."
The snickering man walked behind the busted water pump to the lead pipes that ran up from the ground and mounted onto the back of the house. He twisted the wheel handle of the shut off valve so the water no longer poured forth onto the sand, still chortling, "Seriously, what are you doing?"
"The water pressure was dreadful and I-I…I broke it. Are you happy?" the older Forceful pushed his saturated hair back, causing water droplets to dart through the air. "I thought I could adjust it!"
Anakin roared with laughter as he sauntered across the wet sand to grab the sopping fabric over Obi-Wan's shoulders. He mockingly stuck his bottom lip out and spoke in his best baby voice, "Oh, amanica, why don't you ask me if you need help with big bad technology?"
Obi-Wan repeatedly slapped his derisive friend's hands until they fell from his shoulders, "Don't talk to me in that voice! You're not the only person capable of fixing mechanical devices."
Anakin threw a glance over his shoulder and his voice raised in pitch, "The water pump begs to differ."
"You're insufferable!" The Stewjonian stepped forward and pointed down at the machine, "I can fix this." He then pointed at his ridiculer, "You take your condescending self inside."
"Can you wait until I make a Tatooine Sunrise?"
"Wait?"
"To fix it," Anakin chuckled with a nod towards the pump.
Obi-Wan emphatically motioned between them, "Why do you need an alcoholic beverage for me to fix the water pump?"
He smiled from ear to ear, "So I will have something to drink while I watch you trash the rest of it."
"Go away," the fed-up Force-user sprang forward and clutched his shoulder to push him towards the side of the house.
He heartily laughed but did as he was told. He knew Obi-Wan wouldn't be able to fix the water pump as damaged as it was and couldn't help himself when he chided, "Yell at me before you damage it beyond repair!"
The waiting game began.
He didn't expect surrender within the first hour. His old master was much too stubborn to give up in such a short amount of time. He thought two hours might see the breaking point, more out of pure frustration than anything else, but two hours passed and the hard-headed Jedi still hadn't come for help. Between the heat, the frustration, and the time and energy being wasted, three hours would be the maximum.
::::
I don't even care! I will ignore anything he says to me! Obi-Wan stomped through the front door, soaked from head to toe in sweat, and held up a metallic, circular object. With his eyes narrowed and his muscles tight, he lowly demanded, "What is this?"
Three hours and three minutes. I know you like the back of my hand. Anakin's smile was toothy and unapologetic, "That's the impellor. And yes, it's definitely needed for the device to be operational."
The impellor was thrown in the smug man's direction, "Just go fix it!"
Obi-Wan headed towards the kitchen as Anakin basically skipped past him. He grabbed a towel to wipe off his face and neck before heading back into the sitting room to recline on the couch. He was somewhat irritated when his mechanically-inclined confidant returned completely dry no more than thirty-five minutes later and merrily announced, "It's fixed!" He tried to hold his tongue, but the gloating was ceaseless, "You always have to make sure the valves in the flow path are open while the drain and vent valves are closed. Not to mention-"
He sat straight-backed on the edge of the couch cushions with a glare, "I don't want to hear it."
His umbrage was only met with a smile, "You can shower now if you want."
"What would I do without you?"
"Have unusable electrical devices."
That familiar little twitch of the mouth let Anakin know the eye-rolling indignation on display was superficial. He smiled with his teeth before turning towards the hallway. With his back turned, he missed the grin that stretched over Obi-Wan's lips. I never could deny that beautiful smile.
::::
He blinked the sleep from his eyes as that familiar green light and trumpeting sound flooded his room. He blindly reached to the bedside table to retrieve the comlink (a name he still didn't approve of for it) and didn't bother to sit up as he activated it. As soon as he saw his old padawan's little frame and colossal eyes, he unhappily grumbled, "You have got to work on your timing for these calls."
Ahsoka only laughed, "Sorry, Master, I will work on it. I have some skinny on Noxion a.k.a. Noxtalia and thought you might bite."
He was suddenly wide awake and moved to sit up, "With a locked jaw."
"What a shocker- she's a Nightsister." The Shilian held up her fingers one at a time with each characteristic named, "Hatred of Jedi, disregard for life, calculating, strange characteristics that make her fierce in a fight, disavows the planet she hails from. Personally, I think she sounds like a cliché. Not to mention she really has a hot vendetta for Obi-Wan and me after the rhumba in Theed, according to the rebel Organa drafted to eyeball her. I don't think she has any tips on us yet."
I'll slaughter her if she touches either one of you. Anakin tried not to succumb to the animosity infecting his blood like sepsis. He tried not to focus on his gritting teeth, his labored breath, the pervading thoughts of disemboweling someone he'd never met. Indulging the instinctive rage and enmity he felt at his loved ones being threatened would only lead to mayhem. Only a cool head will lead to real resolution, Anakin. He took a couple deep breaths and tried to speak evenly, "Did you have much trouble with her?"
"She was brick solid. Obi-Wan outfoxed her, used me as a decoy. He held his own against her one-on-one after I split, but she was blued up. If she was hitting at full strength…" She shrugged unsurely, "Coin toss."
His voice came out almost robotically, "Work under the assumption she does have a lead on you. Keep tabs on your contacts and do your own mousing. Don't rely on Organa's subordinate. I'll tell Obi-Wan she has a hard-on for him."
"Yes, General," she smiled fondly with a salute.
He spoke sternly, "I mean it. Be careful, Ahsoka."
She nodded in reassurance, "I will be."
After the com-call ended, he threw back his coverlet and made his way to the other side of the house. Under any other circumstance, he would have felt bad to disturb his comrade from a sound sleep. But I can admit the cool head thing isn't working out. Obi-Wan had always been a light sleeper, so it was no surprise when the older man awoke the second he climbed onto the side of the bed. He was met with a slurred, somewhat panicked query, "What?"
"Snips comm-ed. She gave me the nitty-gritty on Darth Noxion. Another kesting Nightsister. She's out for blood after you beat her ass," he quickly divulged.
"Does she have-"
"Not yet."
"What about on-"
"Not on either one of you. According to nameless rebel A Organa glued to her anyway," he censoriously sneered. "I told her to operate under the assumption there are leads and to do her own information gathering."
"Good," the blonde took a deep breath of relief but the sentiment was short-lived when he found a mixture of stark concern and fury on his friend's face. Ahsoka was valued as a little sister to Anakin and when his family was at risk, he had a tendency to jump the gun. Obi-Wan tried to offer reassurance to dispel any ill-advised thoughts, "She'll be fine. She's a warrior."
"I know. I can't let-"
His fingers curled around Anakin's forearm, "There's no need to worry. Go to sleep. It will be alright."
::::
For nearly two weeks, he dissected the information about Darth Noxion. Fire burned through every layer of his skin when he thought about someone actively trying to kill Ahsoka and Obi-Wan. Even more enraging was how blatantly the blame rested at his feet. If his son had not been in the courtyard, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka wouldn't have been there. If he hadn't been an absent father, his son wouldn't have been in the courtyard. If he hadn't betrayed his fellow Jedi and fallen to the dark side, he wouldn't have been an absent father. If he hadn't betrayed his fellow Jedi and fallen to the dark side, the galaxy wouldn't be under the Dark Lord's thumb and his loved ones wouldn't be hunted down like game.
He was the one responsible for all the darkness in the macrocosm and he needed to do something to banish it! He needed to do something to save his friends! Yet here he was- doing nothing!
Obi-Wan jolted from sleep for the second time in twelve rotations, "What is it?"
He wiggled about restlessly on the side of the bed, "We need to train with our lightsabers again."
"Okay," the Jedi said with no amount of certainty. Before fully consenting to this request, he wanted to know why the issue was imperative enough that it couldn't wait until morning.
Anakin sat on his knees, "Is that a yes?"
The older Forceful elevated onto his elbows to better meet expectant sky-blue eyes, "Are you saying this because of what Ahsoka told you?"
"This is something I want to do."
The deflection was easily spotted, but Obi-Wan didn't have reason to deny this request. He could only see benefits in reacquainting themselves with their lightsabers. It would be a healthy way to lose hours and should give Anakin a sense of security with Noxion on the prowl. It might even help the disgraced Jedi gain some confidence back. Considering the abysmal state of the younger man's self-perception, that would be a benefit welcomed with open arms.
As a child, Anakin's self-esteem was relatively stable. The only black area in that era was his prior slave status and Obi-Wan would have never even known about it if not for an incident with another youngling who insulted him over it. As soon as Obi-Wan told him the insult meant nothing, the self-doubt seemed to vanish. He didn't openly focus on his perceived worth for the remainder of his childhood.
As a preteen, when his abilities grew to exponentially exceed other padawans', his confidence ballooned and continued to do so into his teenage years. By age sixteen, his arrogance bordered narcissism. He never fished for compliments. He never searched for validation. He didn't second guess or hesitate in his speech or actions. He wasn't afraid to back-sass his instructors, the Council, Jedi Knights or Masters. In training, he was almost flawless. No challenger below the level of a master could best him in a spar and even a large number of masters ended up on the losing end of his lightsaber.
There'd been a hit to his confidence around his nineteenth birthday. Obi-Wan knew this was around the time Anakin and Senator Amidala began a relationship, so he long suspected Anakin had been influenced by uncertainty in the unexplored avenues of love. However, the dip in self-esteem only seemed to surface with Obi-Wan specifically, when they were alone. There was a good chance he felt guilty about keeping his romantic relationship a secret and his interactions with Obi-Wan altered as a result. However, his confidence resumed its unparalleled stoutness and their friendship returned to its normal state after about a year and a half from his nineteenth birthday. Obi-Wan still lacked any concrete explanations as to what had happened.
Anakin's confidence obviously augmented to nearly unmanageable proportions during the time of the Clone Wars. After all the years of surpassing his peers and bending situations to his mercy, he fell into the trap of thinking he was infallible. He thought he was capable of more, was smarter than, was stronger than, was more in control than, was better informed than. He thought he could break the hands of time, map the will of fate, program the individual. His delusion of indestructibility made him think he was more potent than the dark side. He would control the darkness, it would not control him. He would use it to achieve his ends and it would be his weapon, not his master. Anakin's arrogance was costlier than any amount of attachment or fear.
When they were reunited, it was blindly, painfully, obvious he'd learned the dark side's only master is wickedness. The dark side took his self-confidence. He now second guessed everything he said and did, hid his body, called himself deprecating names, thought Obi-Wan was going to leave him. He hadn't been wrong when he said he was no longer the same person he once was. Obi-Wan didn't love him any less, but if there was a way to take away the self-contempt and doubt the dark side had bestowed upon him, the Jedi would do it.
"Fine, we will train with our lightsabers again," Obi-Wan sleepily agreed. When Anakin remained sitting silently on the bed, staring at him, he inquired, "Is there something else?"
"After we've trained adequately, I want to join the rebellion."
Hold up. He frozenly stared up at the brunette with knitted brows for a moment. Training with their lightsabers for self-defense in case the Sith came knocking at their door was one thing. Training with their lightsabers so Anakin could run off and fight the forces of evil was another. In his current state, Anakin cried at the thought of death and war. There was zero probability he would be able to handle real combat. The Jedi Master finally sat up and doubtfully queried, "Because Ahsoka told you information on Palpatine's apprentice? What else did she say?"
The father of two shook his head, "This isn't about Ahsoka. I am the impetus for the oppression the galaxy lives under. It's my obligation to help defeat it."
Obi-Wan twisted his body around to look his friend head on, "You're not in the condition-"
The interjection was cantankerous, "I said I would properly train first."
"You have given enough of your body, mind and soul to war," he passionately reasoned.
Mechanical digits squeezed a flesh thigh, "There's still more to give."
The emotion in his voice was almost embarrassing in its intensity, "That doesn't mean it should be given." Anakin looked away without responding, but he did not accept this retreat, "Tell me, have you thought of your children during this extensive deliberation? Luke and Leia need you just as much as the galaxy needs you."
"Don't use my children as a fripping weapon," Anakin leaned forward onto his hands. Sapphire eyes connected intensely with malachite ones, "You have never taught me to hide in fear like an insect and I don't know why you're trying to threaten me to do it now, but we can't stay hidden in this damn house forever."
He pushed his way off the bed with the clear intent of ending the conversation. Obi-Wan, however, was not finished. He tossed back the coverlet and bounced off the bed to trail after Anakin through the sitting room, "There's a difference in being cowardly and being cautious. You can't wake up one night and decide you're going to be better by some arbitrary date so you can join a war."
He knows you will fall again. The disgraced Jedi swept around to wrathfully challenge, "What do you mean better?"
Obi-Wan rose to the challenge, "You know what I mean. Your mind and body are still recovering from your clash with the dark side. You can't up and decide you don't have afflictions anymore because you don't like there's a Nightsister sniffing around for Ahsoka and me."
Anakin raised his hands on either side of his head in frustration, "Have you listened to anything-"
"Or because you shoulder self-condemnation for what happened when you were twenty-three."
"You think I will fall again."
The disavowal was vehement, "No, I didn't say that. I said you are still afflicted and you need to take care of yourself so you can take care of your children."
Anakin furiously kicked the coffee table, causing it to screech across the flextile, "Funny you would want me to take care of a child considering you think I karking am one!"
Obi-Wan could only watch and listen as the the enraged man marched away and closed the door to the extra bedroom. He couldn't find it within himself to do anything except sit down on the couch with his head in his hands. I need a drink.
::::
Instead of downing a bottle of red dwarf, he decided to comm Ahsoka. He needed to know what put Anakin on this mental trajectory in order to better reason against it. This idea of endangering himself as atonement must be cut out at the root. The rebels would attack or cower at the sight of him. The Empire and Sith would have an easier time finding him. All the while he would be fighting the shadows in his own head. His priorities should be the people that need him, not how to get himself killed.
There were a few things about Anakin that could really get under Obi-Wan's skin. That snotty, taunting tone he sometimes used, beating a dead horse until it was dust, the way he left oil under his fingernails after he worked with machinery, his inability to fold clothes correctly, how he thought he psychically knew what other people were thinking. None of this ever garnered a response from Obi-Wan. Even if these little things annoyed him, they are what helped shape the man he idolized. But there were two terrible things in Anakin's personality he wished he could tear out and never give back: self-deprecation and self-destruction.
Anakin had always been destructive. He'd always cursed, punched, screamed, broken furniture, broken bones, broken dishware, insulted, interrogated, demanded. He flew too fast, spent too much on mechanical equipment, engaged in unnecessary yelling matches with his peers, often pushed the few relationships he had to their breaking points, punched holes into walls, drank until he couldn't stand up. He always wanted more out of people than what people were willing to give him and he usually lashed out against them when they let him down. Even worse, he thought people deserved more than they settled for and when they sold themselves short, he didn't know how to express his disappointment and anger in any other method than destruction.
Anakin was aware of his (self-)destructiveness. He sometimes expressed regret for his actions but would tack on that he couldn't help himself. Once when Obi-Wan asked why he couldn't, he'd said, "The heart of my soul hurts too much. Distraction is my salvation." The quest to soothe a lifelong pain that had no true origin was constant. Obi-Wan supposed the Force always knew he was to swing like a perpetual-motion pendulum between the light and dark realms of existence. It needed to prepare him for the agony in some way. Although it was difficult to admit, the light and darkness were not finished battling for him yet. If anything, the phenomenal agony he was in now, with the self-deprecating pain that fed his self-destructive impulses daily, indicated his most perilous fight was yet to come.
After a few moments, Ahsoka received the call and her voice burst through the speaker of the wrist comlink, "Jabber if you must."
"Ahsoka, it's Obi-Wan."
There was some amount of ambient noise and static mixed in with her voice, "Hey, I haven't spoken to you in a saros cycle. How are you doing?"
"Fine." He hoisted the long-range device closer to his mouth, "Do excuse me if this comes off rude, but what the osik have you said to Anakin?"
"What do you mean? You mean on our last call?"
"Yes."
She thoughtfully recalled, "I told him some skinny on Darth Noxion. She- actually I'm assuming he gave you the run-down?"
"Yes," he sighed.
"I gave him background on her. I warned him she's on a fishing expedition for you and me." There was a slight pause, "Why?"
Another exhausted sigh escaped the back of his throat, "You didn't say anything else?"
The static in the connection caused breaks in her laughter, "Like what?"
He tried not to lead the witness, "Like, about the rebellion…"
"I've told him about the rebellion in past calls but not on this most recent one." Obi-Wan barely finished his third protracted sigh when the little Forceful demanded, "What's going on?"
"Anakin told me he wanted to pick up on our lightsabers again. He proceeded to tell me he is going to leave after he quote, unquote properly trains and join the rebellion. He said he is accountable for the rise of the Empire and must rectify this wrong." When this explanation only obtained a hefty silence, he prompted, "Did anything you two discussed indicate he was thinking all this?"
"Not at all," she earnestly denied, "I mean at all."
"I'm trying to figure out what's brought all this on." The frustration in his voice was evident, "Asking him would be quite fruitless."
"Is he ignoring you or something?"
"Kicking the coffee table and storming away while we're talking is how I would define it."
"I assume that means you told him it's a bad idea." She inhaled sharply before complaining through a groan, "It is a bad idea. He's in no condition… If I can see it, I know you can, too. He's in pain and mega hypersensitive. There's no way he would be able to handle an assignment. It kills me to say it, but he's not the undefeatable force of nature he was before we lost him to the dark side."
The volume of Obi-Wan's voice dropped, "Every single inch of him was broken down so he could be rebuilt as a soldier of darkness. When the light side pasted him back together, it may not have had all the pieces."
There was poorly-hidden shock in her voice, "Are you saying he's unstable?"
His voice became even softer, "I'm saying that his energy is sometimes a wreck, his temper has gotten worse, he's more sensitive than he used to be, and he's lost his strong sense of self." He sadly smiled to himself, "He's not necessarily unstable, he's just a little different than he used to be."
"You're saying he's not getting better," she sadly evaluated.
"Although he does go backwards every now and again, he's getting better little by little. He will always have me to lean on if he needs to. I know he's dealing with a lot."
He could hear the smile in her voice, "You still have that famous patience in dealing with him."
Strangely, this conversation wasn't the first time someone asked Obi-Wan if he thought Anakin was unstable. Many people approached him through the years to give him "warnings." You're wasting your time, he's out of control, something's not right about that kid, he talks back to his instructors and insults other padawans, why haven't you sent him back to Tatooine, he can't take simple direction, he's too close to Amidala, you can't trust someone like that, he's totally rude, his temper is dangerous. Nobody could seem to understand why he afforded his time and patience to such an unmanageable renegade. It didn't matter how unreasonable, wild, or violent Anakin got, he would always be there to fend off the detractors.
There'd been one person who tried to tell him they thought Anakin was mentally ill. It was the only time in his life that he cursed someone out. Yes, Anakin's emotions were intense and unpredictable. Yes, he had a tongue that could break bone. Yes, he was unafraid to use his fists, regularly question authority, and act on impulse. All that meant to Obi-Wan was he lived to the beat of a different drummer. He isn't mentally ill; he's eccentric! There'd never been anything wrong with Anakin until the last five years and that was only because he clawed his way back from the dark side.
The people so eager to dole out warnings and criticisms were clueless. They thought they were going to swoop in and save Obi-Wan when in truth, Anakin was the only safe haven he knew. The immense intensity, the investment in relationships, the willingness to challenge anyone to an argument, the constant, unrepentant shows of emotion- the detractors labeled these traits personality flaws, but these traits were what he adored. He didn't want to alter Anakin's uniqueness; he wanted to preserve it. Each condemnation only made him more protective.
The sad smile on Obi-Wan's lips transformed into a fond one, "He has always been on his own time and very volatile all the while. I'm accustomed to it. Thanks for talking with me."
"No sweat. Are you going to bolt down the furniture?"
He tiredly laughed, "He usually remembers how childish it is to kick and throw things. I'm sure he will stop that nonsense when he sees it gets him nowhere but in my bad graces. If he doesn't stop, I will tell him to."
She asked with palpable humor, "Would that actually work?"
"Yes," he smiled, "he does not like to be in my bad graces for too long."
The Togrutan's laugh was caked in static, "Comm me back up if you need anything."
"Thank you. Goodbye, Ahsoka."
"Catch you in the chaos!"
::::
It made him want to scream and yank his hair out. Why are you always right?
He was unsure when, if ever, he would regain the physical strength and the aptitudes he once had with the Force and his lightsaber. If he was going to join the rebellion, the chance for failure must be next to zero. In spite of anything Obi-Wan thought, he wanted to do this for his children. He didn't want to abandon them or leave them fatherless. He wanted to liberate them of the Sith and Empire.
Although Obi-Wan denied saying he would fall again, the Jedi did say he was still afflicted and recovering his mind. At first, he was fuming at the underhanded insults, but it didn't take too long to realize the objectiveness in the observations. If he tried to speed along his recovery so he could join the rebellion, there was the high probability of him falling again. His mind would have to be as strong as his body and abilities or the chance for failure would be as likely as going out to fight Sidious with a broken leg. That meant for the foreseeable future, he was to remain here in this house. He turned out of the hallway into the sitting room and saw Obi-Wan stirring a pot of something in the kitchen. And while you're in this house you need to stop treating the man you love like a Heap Nine garbage pile.
Obi-Wan deserved the planetary rings of Tof. He was gentle and wise, never asked for anything or demanded Anakin behave differently. His smile could melt the core of any planet and his wit and perception were sharper than any bird's talons. His vocal chords were like perfectly-tuned joy-harp strings, creating heavenly tones every time they were plucked. He was logical, helpful, supportive, would listen all night long when you needed to talk. He quite frankly babied Anakin and how was he repaid? He certainly wasn't given the planetary rings of Tof.
Anakin was a bitter pill at best. Obi-Wan put up with a lot of abuse from him and it wasn't fair. During confrontations between them, he knew in the back of his mind he was being unreasonable. He knew he blew things out of proportion and cursed too much and acted plain mean, but while it was occurring, he couldn't stop himself. Somewhere in his head he'd be saying Stop, Anakin, stop, stop, stop! but his mouth would keep motoring along. He constantly tried to scale back his mouth and temper. Every morning, he'd tell himself Starting today, I'm not going to act like that anymore, but old habits are hard to break and he'd always end up as uncivil as he was the rotation before. Maybe he had poor impulse control. He was probably just a bad person. All he knew was he didn't deserve Obi-Wan in his life.
"Do you want any tea?"
He bit his lip and shook his head.
"I'll pour you a cup in case you change your mind."
He smiled.
Obi-Wan sat down at the kitchen table with two cups of tea in hand and pushed one of the cups to the other side of the table, wordlessly inviting him to sit. He decided to take the seat though he didn't drink the tea. Jade jewels reflecting sunlight caught his stare and he couldn't look anywhere else. He didn't deserve to have this extraordinary man's camaraderie and acts of kindness. He didn't merit all the forgiveness and understanding. But I want you so bad. His Living Force instinctually reached out for the Living Force across the table. It had been two rotations without their regular meditation and he craved Obi-Wan's energy like glitterstim. He wanted to warm this encircling coldness that embraced his energy and put the anemic exhaustion from longing and desperation to bed. Being this close, staring into those heart-stealing eyes, being so totally focused on Obi-Wan...somehow, he couldn't care right now that he didn't deserve their friendship. He finally pushed the tea aside, "Will you meditate with me?"
There was no hesitation, "Yes."
Anakin raised from his seat and moved around the table. He took hold of Obi-Wan's hands and already his blood was singing. He guided the blonde from the seat to the floor.
Used to the strange locations of their meditations, Obi-Wan sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor directly in front of Anakin. He'd silently pleaded with the Force for mitigation for the past two rotations. The first night they went without meditating together, he felt like a book that had its text erased. By the second night, he was ready to beg for the blank spaces of his energy and soul to be filled. He managed to stop himself from going to Anakin, but he certainly, desperately hoped his fellow Forceful would long for their bond as fiercely as he did and put an end to the torture.
The hold on his hands was firm as he began the usual recitations. As soon as a bond was opened, their Living Forces wildly, hungrily branched towards one another. The energies crashed together in a desperate embrace, twisting and twining in utter relief to be reunited. They both felt like they were receiving cardiopulmonary resuscitation. I can finally breathe again.
Obi-Wan wished he could sit on that hard floor with flesh fingers curling around his right hand and metal fingers curling around his left hand while Anakin's Living Force was interlocked with his for the rest of eternity. The looming misery waiting for them on the other side of that bond was nothing less than total tragedy. He didn't want the distance that was growing between them to return. He didn't want Anakin to leave him empty and cold again. I just want to be with you like this, close and loving you in any way you'll allow. But rationality trumped harmony. If he must sacrifice harmony between them to properly care for Anakin, he would do so. I will do anything to keep you safe.
In a similar vein, Anakin wanted the hands in his to glide over every plane and angle of his body. He knew he'd lost control of his thoughts lately, but their bond, proximity, and contact made him hone in on less than honorable thoughts. Since the very first time they'd ever opened a bond back when he was a teenager, Obi-Wan's energy set him on fire. He always felt overheated and shivers would shake his body until his muscles were strung like tightwire. I love you so much. Don't make me let go of you.
After a couple hours, Obi-Wan felt the weakening energy flow and started to pull back from the bond. Once it was finally disconnected and their energies were only left with aftertastes of one another's, they still shared the exact same feeling.
Neither spoke of their emptiness.
They got off the floor, finished drinking their cold tea in silence, and went to their separate bedrooms.
- 8
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The Faithful and Ferocious