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Obi Wan fell into his quarters , and he was alone. It had been, what? Three? Maybe f our days since he’d slept? He wasn’t sure. He just knew that his entire bo dy, his entire soul, was screaming at him to rest.
It had never been that simple, though. Not when he was young, not when he’d been Anakin’s master, and certainly not now that he had t housands of men at his command, willing to fight for him and die for him and suddenly Obi Wan couldn’t breathe. His mind flashed to every clone he’d know n, every clone he’d lost, all of them fighting and hurting and dying because he ’d ordered them to.
He gave the commands because he was ‘good at it’. An honored general, an invaluable leader of the Republic. He was good at his job. Sending people into battle, getting some of them out, watching most of them die, acting like everything was fine. Acting like they’d made any progress at all, when he knew they hadn’t.
He sunk onto his couch. He couldn’t feel anything but the desperate pain in his chest that he didn’t know how to identify. He tried to push it into the force, as he did everything else. Stow it away, don’t let it consume you. It’s just a feeling, and it will pass. The voice in his head sounded like Qui Gon.
Qui Gon. Force, he missed him. It wasn’t the Jedi way. Of course, it wasn’t, but there had been some sort of stability when Qui Gon had been alive. He’d had a routine. He’d had consistencies. Even if he pushed himself to o hard, even if he felt he could never be everything Qui Gon hoped he would be , even if everything back then had seemed impossible . There was struct ure. There was stability. There was some sort of logic.
And then Anakin had come, and all of those statements were still true , but everything was shifting, and it hadn’t stopped shifting sense, and the whole universe was spinning around him and Obi Wan tried to stand up. He didn’t feel well. There was somethi ng wrong with him. What was wrong with him?
He tried to shove everything into the force, as he always did, but that just made him feel faint. He’d been relying on the force for energy in every form, and suddenly Obi Wan remembered that he hadn’t eaten in several days. How had this happened?
War. War had taken his time and ran it into the ground, into fighting for a cause that he believed in, sure, a cause he would die for. But what was the cost? What was the cost, and could it be replaced when everything was over and all of the cards were played, would it be worth it?
He was lying on the floor, and he truly didn’t remember how he’d gotten there. He must have fallen. Maybe he would die there, lying on the floor. Wouldn’t that be amusing. General Kenobi, leader of the Republic, dying on the floor of his quarters, rather than in the battlefield , heroically like heroes should. Hero. Where had that come from?
Obi Wan’s mind whirled back to the clones he had fought for and lost, his padawan, recklessly feeling and fighting, Ahsoka innocently learning these habits, the Council’s constant need for him to be there, be present, be better. He didn’t feel like a hero.
He felt like a child, laying on the floor of his quarters, feeling everything that hit him like he had no control of the force whatsoever. He tried to shove everything into the force again. He was met with another wave of dizziness , and he was briefly, un believably grateful for the fact that he was lying down. What if he’d been standing? He would have fallen. But he’d already fallen, and so really, what was the point in being grateful? It was all very amusing, and Obi Wan was hit with a sudden urge to laugh.
So, he did. And he laughed, long and hard and he couldn’t stop, and there were tears coming from his eyes. And eventually he stopped laughing, but the tears were still leaking from his eyes and that didn’t really make sense did it ?
But there was that pain in his chest that refused to leave him be, and Obi Wan was sure that was to blame. He stared at the ceiling, willing his eyes to stop leaking. There was no reason for it. He was fine. He was alive, and relatively healthy, and his padawan and his padawan’s padawan were safe, and his co mmander, dearest Cody, was safe.
But for how long? He would never be able to guarantee their safety, even if he fought to protect them, even if he gave his life to protect them, there would always be more danger, more foes, more war to wade through and Obi Wan couldn’t stop it. He wasn't a hero, he was a pathetic man, lying on the floor of his quarters . He missed his padawan.
Where had that come from? Obi Wan pushed himself into a sitting position, ignoring the spinning in his head. He missed them. Anakin and Ahsoka and Cody , even Rex. That couldn’t be right , though , he’d just said goodbye to Anakin moments before. It had only been moments, right? What time was it? Obi Wan tried to check, but he found his vision was blurry.
He couldn’t even see, now. He should sleep. Obi Wan hauled himself to his feet, and the world spun around him, but he moved through his quarters, the space not as familiar as it truly should have been . He hadn’t spent large amounts of time there in years, and there was nothing in the room that set it apart from any other space he occupied. Still, he was able to make his way into his bedroom, somehow.
He fell onto the mattress and closed his eyes, exhaustion pulling at his body and his soul. But his eyes felt scratchy, even closed, and he found that he was far too tired to sleep . Maybe he could stay up later, longer. Maybe he would feel better if he just lied here for a moment. He still had work to do after all.
Anakin had sent him here after they’d completed another ‘successful’ mission, in which they’d accomplished their goal, but lost a hundred more lives. Anakin claimed he looked horrible and walked him to his quarter s. That seemed so long ago, but it had only been moments. Could anyone feel the turmoil in his brain? Was he projecting into the force? Obi Wan wasn’t even monitoring his shields . He simply hoped they were raised and functional. Anakin didn’t need this on his plate, neither did little Ahsoka. She was so young .
Obi Wan kept his eyes closed, willing his mind to stop whirling, spinning, thinking, willing the heaviness of his body to lessen so he could actually rest . He was no good like this. But it seemed he couldn’t make himself rest, even lying down, eyes closed, there was too much noise in his empty quarters, and he couldn’t stop worrying, twitching, blinking , scratchy, heavy eyes.
And suddenly he could feel Anakin. Had he stopped being able to at some point? He was bright and loud and achingly familiar and Obi Wan subconsciously reached towards him in the force. He wanted him back, wanted him here with him. It was a stupid, childish desire, but he had it. He couldn’t keep control of anything. He was worthless. He tried to pull back the tendril he’d sent out to Anakin, but his padawan had already picked up on it.
A question. Master, are you alright?
Obi Wan tried to respond, but the force wasn’t working. The words he attempted to think weren’t working and he didn’t know the message that he actually sent to Anakin, but his padawan’s presence got a lot more urgent, and suddenly Obi Wan could feel Ahsoka, concern spiking in her as well. Obi Wan felt guilty in the back of his muddled mind, but he couldn’t focus on it, he couldn’t understand it.
He could simply feel the bright and loud, and the softer, happy glow of his padawan and his padawan’s padawan. He closed his eyes again- had he opened them? - and he could feel them getting closer. He had half a thought that he should try to make himself more presentable. Get up, and act like everything was fine, as he always did. Because everything was fine, obviously.
And suddenly they were in his quarters and standing directly above him. And Obi Wan opened his eyes and saw them there, and they were saying things to him. What were they saying? He couldn’t hear them.
Anakin touched his shoulder, and Obi Wan almost flinched. He hadn’t been touched in so long. The warmth was unfamiliar, but after his initial shock, he leaned into it. Perhaps too far, as he ended up folding into Anakin’s shoulder, allowing the warmt h to seep through him, not giving a thought to the Jedi way as Anakin wrapped his arms around him, shooting concerned glances at Ahsoka as he did so.
Obi Wan merely allowed himself to sit there, wrapped in warmth, his mind quieting for the first time in months. He thought of nothing but the bright and the loud and the softer glow.
And slowly, he began to feel like a person again.