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Anakin doesn’t leave him alone anymore.
Obi-Wan should mind it, once would have, but he doesn’t. The unfortunate truth of the matter is that he’s grown terribly used to his former padawan’s constant presence, to waking curled against a warm shoulder, to having his nightmares soothed away before they can truly begin.
He shouldn’t have let it get this far. He doesn’t know why the council had let it go this far. Surely if they catch wind of how dependent he’s become, he and Anakin will be separated.
Anakin doesn’t let him spiral this way anymore, either. He’s become more attuned to the bond between them than ever, and as always, he catches this line of thought.
A hand at his shoulder startles Obi-Wan out of it. He blinks up at Anakin, noting how weary his old apprentice looks.
His fault.
Anakin frowns at him, and he tries to strengthen his shields. It’s harder than it used to be, after days of letting Anakin in. He’s out of practice.
“Don’t start with me, Master. I’m just tired. What else are you worrying about? I could feel it.”
Obi-Wan sighs, hunches into himself a little. “Council,” he murmurs, and eases the shields again so that Anakin can see for himself, because he doesn’t have the energy to explain aloud.
He doesn’t have the energy for anything anymore.
He wishes that it had worked.
That’s a thought he never allows Anakin to grasp. He’s done enough damage to last a lifetime already.
“Yoda and Windu --”
“Masters,” he says automatically, and senses rather than sees Anakin’s smile.
The smallest of actions is enough to bring his former padawan such relief. He worries him too much. He had never wanted anyone to fret over him.
“ Master Yoda and Master Windu,” Anakin corrects himself, exaggerating the words, “already know how much time you’ve spending with me. Master Yoda was the one who sent me to you in the infirmary. They want me to help you.”
Oh. Well that explains that, then. Anakin’s constant presence here. Because he’d been instructed to be here. That hardly seems fair. Anakin surely has much better things to do than babysit him.
He jerks his shields up, hunches in on himself a little more. This time, he senses Anakin’s frown rather than a smile, but neither of them say anything.
Obi-Wan soon dozes off against Anakin’s shoulder, as he’s so prone to doing as of late, and half - wakes to the murmur of voices. He’s lying down now, though he doesn’t remember doing so, and a gentle hand strokes his back. He sends a sleepy query into the Force, far too fuzzy to do anything but search for Anakin along their bond.
A beat later, a familiar Force presence wraps around his own, sheltering him, and he gives a garbled little sigh, relaxing against what he is now quite certain is Anakin’s lap.
He feels too safe and too comfortable to pretend that he minds, a thought that he will later condemn himself for. Another drowsy question, attempting to discern who else is here. Ah. Ahsoka. His limbs loosen a little further, and he turns his face into the warmth, nuzzling against cloth.
They must think he’s still asleep, or gone back to sleep, at least, because the conversation continues. He’s too groggy to make head nor tail of it.
“…still hiding something… felt it… won’t talk about anything, still…”
“… maybe Cody…”
He misses Cody. There’s a little pang in his chest, and that presence wraps more closely around his. Fingers work their way into his hair a moment later. He’s going to fall asleep again.
“... supposed… fix it if he won’t…”
“...give him time…loves you...look...”
Oh. They’re probably talking about him, he realizes dimly, but can’t rouse himself enough to interrupt. He sends a little burst of warmth along the bond before promptly falling back asleep, safety ensconced in Anakin’s Force signature.
He can think of no safer place in the galaxy.
“I don’t know what to do, Master.”
He’d left Obi-Wan with Master Windu to come here and speak to Plo Koon, reluctant as he had been to do so. He knows, though, that Obi-Wan considers the other man a friend, that time with him is likely to do his master good.
“I tried to fix it on my own, but I… I’m afraid I’m only making it worse,” Anakin admits in a rush, troubled gaze on the ground. They’ve come to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, a room that usually brings Obi-Wan so much peace. It isn’t doing the same for him. “I said something earlier, and he just -- I could tell. But he blocked me out, and he won’t tell me anything.”
“Your Master is not a machine you can fix just like that, young one. It’s only been a few days.” Plo sighs. “I believe it would be best if he spoke to the Mind Healers. I’m not a Mind Healer. Neither are you.”
“He won’t.”
“Perhaps Master Yoda can convince him.”
“He’s afraid that Yoda will separate us.” Again, the words come in a rush. “He told me as much earlier today.”
A pause. “While once the Council may have thought such a decision to be in the best interest of everyone involved, the pair of you have proven that it is folly to attempt such a thing.”
Once the Council may have thought such a decision to be in the best interest of everyone involved.
Anakin has to make a conscious effort to listen to the rest of the statement, so potent is the rage that wells up in his chest, the dragon roaring back to life. It’s been some time since he’d had to beat it into submission the way he does now.
“I would have killed you all had you tried,” he snaps, and immediately regrets it.
Plo is watching him, expression unreadable as ever.
“And you all wonder why I would have chosen the dark over this karking Council,” Anakin mutters, turning away. The rage has tampered down to a low seething in the pit of his stomach, but it’s still there. He wants to go back to Obi-Wan.
“You chose Obi-Wan, not the Council,” Plo remarks quietly. “Just as Obi-Wan chose you days ago. You know you are the only reason he remains here.”
And oh, that hurts. Not that Obi-Wan had chosen to stay for him, no, that is the way things should be, but the reminder of how close he had come to losing his mentor. Twice. Twice. He can never let the thought go. Had he been such a bad thing for Obi-Wan?
Yes. He’d been the worst thing possible for Obi-Wan in the beginning, and somehow wound up with the bond they share anyway. He’s been lucky.
“I think,” Plo continues, gentler, “that it would do both of you good to visit the Mind Healers. Yes, you too. Perhaps Obi-Wan will go if you go as well. I think it will encourage him to do so.”
Once, Anakin would have argued, but well, he can’t very well do so now. Not after all that’s come to pass. He nods. “Yes, Master.”
Plo exhales softly through his mask. “You may assure Obi-Wan that the Council does not seek to separate you. Your attachment remains a good thing for now. Go on and return to him, young one. Your impatience is obvious.”
And yeah, Anakin had begun shifting from foot to foot. It’s been a while since he’d let Obi-Wan alone quite this long, though he can sense nothing out of the ordinary from his master’s end of the bond. It’s quiet, seemingly content. Of course it is. Obi-Wan’s always been terribly fond of Windu, bastard that the other man is.
“Thank you, Master,” he says, spinning on his heel and heading for the corridor.
For all that Obi-Wan may not be a machine to be easily fixed, as Plo Koon says, he feels a little more confident that he can make things right. It’s all he knows to do.