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Chapter Text

"Will you tell me a story?"

The question was soft and hesitant, but more than enough to put an end to Obi-Wan's failed attempt at meditation.

Frustrated, Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes tighter. Dealing with Anakin was difficult enough on a good day. Dealing with him while severely lacking sleep and nursing a headache was guaranteed to end in a disaster.

Perhaps if I ignore him, he will leave.

It was a petty and selfish impulse, unworthy of an Initiate, let alone a Jedi Knight entrusted with a Padawan. Especially a Padawan as unique as Anakin. Who knew next to nothing of Jedi Code and felt so much, and so deeply. Who shone so brightly in the Force, it was almost blinding.

Anakin possessed more than enough raw potential to be a Jedi, but he sorely lacked even the basic knowledge of what being a Jedi truly entailed. Which, given the unorthodox circumstances of his joining, was hardly failing on Anakin's part. The boy was intelligent and a quick study. With a strong and sure hand to guide him on the long and trying road to Knighthood, Obi-Wan had little doubt he would grow to become an amazing Jedi.

Therein, though, laid the problem.

In the past eight months, Obi-Wan had felt everything but confidence that he was the right person to provide it. Anakin, despite an occasional misunderstanding and a few minor shows of temper, diligently followed Obi-Wan's teachings and instructions. Even if guidance and lectures was not what Anakin wanted from Obi-Wan.

What Anakin seemed to want, with a kind of intensity that bordered on need, was affection: deep, unquestionable and uncompromising. The kind that inevitably led to forming attachment.

The kind that Jedi were taught to rise above or risk losing their way.

"Obi-Wan?" Anakin said in a slightly stronger voice. "Master?"

Swallowing a sigh, Obi-Wan silently admitted defeat. Releasing what inner turmoil he could into the Force, Obi-wan opened his eyes. He regretted it instantly.

Anakin, dressed in rumpled sleep clothes, stood awkwardly next to Obi-Wan's meditation mat, clutching a blanket to his chest and staring at Obi-Wan with wide, troubled eyes.

Even if Obi-Wan couldn't feel the misery surrounding Anakin like a dark cloud in the Force, there was no mistaking the distress on his face. It did nothing to ease the throbbing in Obi-Wan's temples. Or lessen the feeling of inadequacy that has been dogging his heels his entire life, becoming even stronger since he had become Anakin's master.

But Obi-Wan had made a promise. First to Qui-Gon, and then to Anakin. A promise he intended to fulfill despite his fears and doubts; Anakin would become a Jedi, Obi-Wan would make certain of it.

"It is late. Shouldn't you be sleeping, Padawan?" Obi-Wan said, adding just a hint of reproach to his voice.

A small crease appeared on Anakin's forehead. "You're not sleeping," Anakin pointed out, a hint of defiance in the jut of his chin.

"I am not the one who has an early class tomorrow morning. Besides, I was meditating."

Anakin tilted his head to the side, giving Obi-Wan a dubious look. "You're not telling the truth."

Obi-Wan blinked, caught between amusement and annoyance. "Is that so? And what makes you so certain I was less than truthful?"

Anakin shifted uneasily on his feet, glancing down. "I could sense you," he admitted reluctantly, carefully avoiding to meet Obi-Wan's gaze. "You felt as if you were in pain."

Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat. A beat passed before he released it in a slow, controlled exhale. "Anakin-"

"I'm sorry!" Anakin burst out, looking at Obi-Wan with wide, tearful eyes. He made a step forward, only to stop abruptly, his grip on the blanket tightening until his knuckles turned white. "I didn't mean to, honest. I couldn't sleep, and you were so loud-"

Obi-Wan rose to his feet, lifting a placating hand. The Force around Anakin churned violently; a tumultuous mess of fear and uncertainty.

He thinks I will punish him for a perceived transgression, Obi-Wan realized, horrified. As if he were still a slave.

"I do not blame you, Anakin," Obi-Wan interjected, keeping his voice calm and soothing despite his inner turmoil. He had been certain his shields were strong enough to keep his emotion from bleeding over into the bond he shared with Anakin. Obviously, he had been mistaken.

That, though, was not the matter that needed settling first.

"Come here, Padawan," Obi-Wan said, indicating a spot on the meditation mat.

Anakin hesitated one brief moment before shuffling forward and looking up expectantly at Obi-Wan. He still seemed wary, but he was no longer broadcasting fear and anxiety as loudly and violently as moments before.

"Sit down, Anakin," Obi-Wan instructed.

Anakin obeyed without hesitation, bunching the blanket in his lap as he sat down on the mat, craning his head up to meet Obi-Wan's eyes guardedly.

Resisting the urge to drag a hand across his face, Obi-Wan lowered himself down across from Anakin.

"I will never punish you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said solemnly. Anakin's eyes went wide and startled. "I should have made it clear sooner. I am sorry that I haven't done so."

Anakin squirmed minutely, wariness and hope evident in his gaze. "But you told me it was wrong to-" he frowned as though trying to recall Obi-Wan's exact phrasing, "-intrude on other people's feelings. And thoughts."

"It is. But only if done so maliciously and with conscious decision. You, my young Padawan, haven't done either of the two."

Anakin frowned, the wariness slowly dissipating from his gaze, replaced by curiosity. "So I didn't do anything bad? Even if I did intrude on your feelings?"

Obi-Wan allowed himself a faint smile. "No, Anakin. You haven't done anything wrong."

Anakin's shoulders sagged with visible relief. "That's good then. I don't want to let you down, Master."

Obi-Wan felt something warm flicker inside his chest. Followed by another pang of apprehension.

And I mustn't let you down.

"I have faith in you, Padawan," Obi-Wan said, noting the way Anakin's eyes lit up with unmasked joy. The Force around him shimmered faintly, no longer as heavy and troubled as it had been. "You have already shown great progress in most of your classes. Only meditation remains a source of difficulty for you."

Anakin glanced down, but Obi-Wan still managed to catch a look of severe dislike flickering across his features. Considering the lateness of the hour and Anakin's improved mood, Obi-Wan decided to leave that particular sore spot for another time.

"As for what happened earlier tonight, you should be prepared for it to occur again," Obi-Wan said. "Until you become more proficient with shielding, you will undoubtedly experience particularly strong emotions from those who are not Force sensitive. Even from other Force users when their shields are impaired for whatever reason."

"Is that why I could sense you?" Anakin asked, curious. "You weren't shielding properly?"

Obi-Wan ignored a flash of indignation at Anakin's question. It was a logical conclusion. One that Obi-Wan had initially come to himself. "The answer is somewhat more complicated than that," Obi-Wan said.

Anakin frowned in confusion. "I don't think I understand, Master. How can it be complicated?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He couldn't recall exactly when he had last checked the progress of their training bond. It was a gross oversight on his part. One that could not be excused by everything that has happened in the past eight months. No matter how life-changing.

Sinking into the Force, Obi-Wan barely needed to concentrate to spot the golden thread that connected the two of them in the Force. What had initially been no more than a faint string, was already much stronger than the training bond Obi-Wan had shared with Qui-Gon during his first year as a Padawan. This knowledge filled him in equal parts with wonder and unease.

Was the strength of their bond of Anakin's make; a consequence of Anakin's strength in the Force? If it were so, and at the moment Obi-Wan saw no other possible explanation, he must have done it instinctively.

The thought was somewhat… unsettling.

"I presume you recall the training bond we have established between us?" Obi-Wan asked, opening his eyes. Anakin nodded, if somewhat uncertainly. When Obi-Wan had first mentioned the necessity of a training bond, Anakin had responded with obvious reluctance; a perfectly understandable reaction given his past. Obviously, that was no longer the case. "It connects us, granting easier access to each other. Even past our shields."

Anakin's eyes lit up with sudden understanding. Obi-Wan suppressed a smile at the way he seemed to almost vibrate with excitement. It was fascinating to watch.

"I think I understand it now," Anakin said. "You were shielding but you weren't shielding specifically against me."

Obi-Wan nodded. It was somewhat more nuanced than that, but essentially Anakin was correct.

"You told me the bond was meant to help me become a Jedi, but you didn't explain how," Anakin said, looking thoughtful.

Obi-Wan breathed through a flicker of pain at the thought of what has become of his bond with Qui-Gon: a withered, mangled stump. "It grows and strengthens with time, making us more attuned to each other. In a way, it develops along with our relationship. Trust is essential for it, along with respect and dedication."

"What about love?" Anakin asked, watching him intently, the air between them suddenly growing tense.

Obi-Wan hesitated just a moment before answering. "While it is not unusual for Master and Padawan to become fond of each other and remain close friends after the Padawan is knighted, love is not a requirement."

"Oh," Ankin said, looking crestfallen. He glanced down, dragging the blanket up to his chest. After a moment of heavy silence, he suddenly looked up, his expression drawn into a frown. "Does that mean you didn't love Master Qui-Gon?"

Obi-Wan went utterly still. Even his lungs seemed unable to draw a breath. Every instinct he possessed urged him to twist the truth until it better fit the Code, but Obi-Wan found himself unable to force the words past his lips.

Almost as if the Force itself rebelled against it.

"I loved him," Obi-Wan admitted softly. He had never said it out loud before or given it much consideration. It had simply been there; an intricate part of Obi-Wan's life.

And now Qui-Gon was gone, leaving Obi-Wan with a daunting legacy, and a boy with a shadow of a prophecy looming over him.

Anakin brightened immediately, his expression that of someone who had been gifted with the most amazing thing in the entire galaxy.

As he watched Anakin's brilliant smile, Obi-Wan felt a bone chilling dread that he had just made a grave mistake. A mistake he could not bring himself to regret in that moment; not with the way Anakin's face was beaming with pure joy.

"And now, I believe, is high time for you to go to sleep, Padawan," Obi-Wan said, giving Anakin a pointed look.

"But you haven't told me a story yet."

Obi-Wan blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Why should I tell you a story?"

Anakin ducked his head. He shuffled nervously on the mat, then proceeded to arrange his blanket until it was pooled in his lap. "My mom used to tell me stories so I would sleep better," Anakin said finally, his voice uncharacteristically timid.

As Qui-Gon's Padawan, Obi-Wan excelled in quick thinking and diplomacy. Now, though, watching his Padawan nervously play with the hem of his sleep shirt, Obi-Wan found himself unable to formulate an adequate response.

In the end, Obi-Wan settled for, "What if I don't know any stories?"

Anakin raised his head, looking mildly offended. "Everyone knows stories. Even Watto knew at least one." Anakin's expression turned derisive. "It was a stupid story. Not nearly as scary as he thought."

Obi-Wan has had more than a few encounters with slavery during his Padawan years. It was the biggest stain upon the galaxy. However, it was a profitable stain, and between the greed and lawlessness of the Hutt territory and Republic's willful ignorance, its eradication was highly unlikely.

It was a harsh truth, one that had been far easier to accept when not faced with its ugly reality almost daily.

But being a Jedi meant accepting the limits of their own reach, no matter how incredibly frustrating it was at times, or risk falling prey to the call of the Dark Side.

After all, the path from helpless frustration to blinding rage was not as long as one would think.

"If you really don't know any stories," Anakin said, obviously trying a different tactic. "You're smart, you could invent one."

Obi-Wan's mouth quirked into a wry smile. "It seems you have already mastered that flattery is an essential part of every negotiation."

Anakin perked up, his excitement a warm glow in the Force. "So you'll tell me a story?"

Obi-Wan knew that, by caving in, he would set a precedent for the future. He was also aware that Anakin was smart enough to recognize an advantage when he saw one. And exploit it mercilessly.

And yet.

"Very well," Obi-Wan said, resigned. "What kind of a story would you like to hear?"

Anakin's eyes flashed excitedly. He quickly gathered up his blanket and stood up, crossing the mat and flopping down next to Obi-Wan.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan spluttered as Anakin managed to squirm under his arm, all but crawling into his lap. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting comfortable," Anakin replied matter-of-factly, arranging the blanket until it covered both of them.

Casual physical touch was not discouraged among the Jedi. In fact, it was rather common, especially among the younglings and Initiates.

But there was nothing casual about the way Anakin had all but burrowed into Obi-Wan's side, radiating content into the Force so strongly, Obi-Wan was certain everyone in the Temple could feel it.

Obi-Wan could put an end to it without much effort; extract himself from Anakin's hold, or order Anakin to move away. It would be a prudent course of action, and a certain way of re-establishing many lines that Obi-Wan had allowed to be crossed.

"Master?" Anakin's voice cut through the tangle of conflicting thoughts warring inside Obi-Wan's mind. "I'm ready now."

Obi-Wan glanced down. He met Anakin's eyes, all his carefully constructed reasoning dissolving underneath Anakin's expectant gaze. Sighing inwardly, Obi-Wan capitulated.

"You have yet to tell me what kind of story you would prefer."

Anakin's brow scrunched in thought. "Can you tell me a story about angels?" he said after a moment, a note of shyness coloring his voice as a hint of color appeared on his cheeks.

Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow, amused by Anakin's choice. "Why angels? I would have thought space battles would interest you more, considering the amount of time you spend in the hanger."

Anakin shrugged, looking away. He nestled his head against Obi-Wan's side. "I always wanted to see one myself. I thought Padmé was one." Anakin hesitated a beat before confessing in a quiet voice, "I thought you were one, too."

Obi-Wan let out an amused huff of breath. "I thank you for the assumption, Anakin," he said in a light voice. Anakin still refused to look up and meet his eyes, but he remained in place, showing no desire to move away from Obi-Wan.

"Well, I am no angel but there had been one time-"

Obi-Wan spun a tale of bravery, mystery and beauty, embellishing the few facts he knew of the famed Diathim, and adding quite a bit of imaginary ones.

Anakin was surprisingly quiet, letting out a surprised exclamation when the story took an unexpected turn, and a quiet, contented sigh when the danger for the hero of the story had passed.

It was somewhat… unexpected.

Obi-Wan had expected a lot of questions and animated gesturing, but his whirlwind of a Padawan seemed content with being quiet for once.

Perhaps even too quiet.

Obi-Wan paused in telling the story, glancing down at the blond head resting in the crook of Obi-Wan's arm.

He's asleep, Obi-Wan realized, feeling a surge of warmth inside his chest.

Obi-Wan shifted minutely, only to go entirely still when Anakin let out a quiet, unhappy noise, snuggling closer until his head was lying against Obi-Wan's chest.

Slowly and carefully, Obi-Wan raised his arm, curling it around Anakin's shoulders.

Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan exhaled a deep breath. He felt more at peace than he had ever since Qui-Gon's death; uncertain whether the warmth that was slowly enveloping him was coming from the Force or his sleeping Padawan.

Or both.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan did not look up from the datapad in his hand when he heard the door to Anakin's room whoosh open, followed by the dull sound Anakin's feet made against the carpeted floor.

"Tell me a story," Anakin said after a beat, just shy of an outright demand.

Obi-Wan took a steadying breath, throwing one last mournful look at his datapad - he's been looking forward to a quiet evening of reading after another exhausting day of negotiations - before placing it down on the table, next to his empty tea cup.

Considering the waves of agitation coming off of Anakin, the chances of spending a quiet evening have plummeted considerably.

Obi-Wan raised his head, regarding Anakin silently. He was currently leaning against an antique armchair, his fingers worrying at its fabric, his expression drawn into a scowl. Unfortunately, it seemed to be his default expression as of late.

At fifteen, Anakin was a gangly teenager, with coltish limbs and little grace. To Obi-Wan's increasing frustration, he seemed to be growing like a weed; a few more years and he would undoubtedly be taller than Obi-Wan. Judging by Anakin's remarks as of late, he was also aware of that fact.

"This has been a rather long and tiresome day," Obi-Wan said, fixing Anakin with a flat look. "Considering the current progress of the negotiations between our host and the Earl Linndoc, I fear that tomorrow won't be any different."

Anakin snorted. "That's because the Earl isn't really interested in coming to an agreement with Wengay."

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow. "Is that so? And how did you come to that conclusion? Considering how little time you have spent actually paying attention to the negotiations."

Anakin straightened, looking utterly unapologetic.  "I was paying attention in the beginning. Then it became obvious that Linndoc is only buying time." 

"Buying time for what?"

"I don't know," Anakin said, shrugging. "But he shot down every suggestion you and Wengay had made. Even the ones I know were reasonable. And the ones he'd made were nothing but bantha poodoo."

Obi-Wan leaned against the backrest, stroking his beard. Language aside, Anakin was correct. 

Ever since the beginning of the negotiations over a sizable patch of land on the far north of Ione, Linndoc has done nothing to show willingness to compromise. Something that made little sense considering that Wengay's claim to the land in question was legitimate. In fact, the only reason a Jedi - and Obi-Wan was beginning to strongly dislike his growing reputation of a skilled negotiator, which was the reason he had been tasked with this particular assignment - was needed to mediate, was the close familial relationship between Linndoc and the Earl Supreme.

"I believe you are right, Padawan. Linndoc is hiding something," Obi-Wan said, a strong sense of unease rising up inside him. Anakin's face split into a huge grin at the praise, his joy lighting up the Force around him. "Though, I cannot say I am fond of the implications."

Anakin's grin sharpened. "Whatever it is, we can take him, Master."

Obi-Wan smiled faintly. "Your confidence in our respective skills aside, my overeager Padawan, I would feel much better knowing what game Linndoc is playing."

Anakin let out a frustrated huff of breath, flopping down onto the armchair. "I don't care what that sleemo is hiding. I just want him to make his move. I'm tired of this endless empty talks that aren't going anywhere."

"Patience, Anakin," Obi-Wan said mildly. "You shouldn't wish for danger. It finds you far too often without you actively seeking it."

"I just want something to do, Master." Anakin got to his feet and started pacing the length of the room like a caged nexu. "I feel useless."

Obi-Wan silently watched him pace for a few moments, feeling a faint echo of Anakin's agitation bleed through their bond despite Anakin's shields.

A bond that, much like Anakin himself, defied the norm.

In the beginning, Obi-Wan had ascribed the strength of their bond to Anakin's raw Force potential, as well as the unusual circumstances of Anakin's joining the Order. He had been certain that with time and Anakin's full integration into the Temple life, their bond would continue to strengthen in a much more sedate manner.

Obi-Wan had been wrong. 

Due to determination and natural intelligence, Anakin had quickly caught up to his peers in their studies. But his Force strength, his past and the rumors of his status as the Chosen One have resulted in an invisible barrier between him and the rest of the Jedi. Obi-Wan was the only one Anakin was willing to welcome across. And do so gladly.

"You are not useless, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, rubbing at his temple tiredly. "No more so than I am at the present moment."

Anakin stopped pacing, his expression shifting from frustrated to concerned. "Are you feeling well, Master?"

The corner of Obi-Wan's mouth lifted faintly. "It is nothing a full night of sleep cannot fix. Something, Padawan, you too would benefit from."

Anakin glanced away, his shoulders hunching. He looked younger, smaller; almost like the boy he'd been, and not the sullen youth he's been growing into.

"I can't sleep," Anakin admitted reluctantly, looking everywhere but at Obi-Wan. "I keep having… dreams."

Obi-Wan frowned. The first year Anakin had spent living in the Temple, had been a trying year for both of them, weighted by loss, misunderstandings and complexity of their new reality.

During that time, Anakin had often been plagued by night terrors. Not that Obi-Wan hadn't experienced his own share of waking up gasping, as the last vestiges of a dream faded from his mind, leaving only a heavy sensation of failure behind.

It had been a gradual process, but Obi-Wan had accepted those dreams as manifestations of his guilt, grief and loss. Time, meditation and, most importantly, his duties to Anakin had ensured that Obi-Wan let go of the worst of those feelings, thus making an end to Obi-Wan's nightmares.

It was something Anakin could not master. 

It had been reasonable when Anakin had been nine and stranger to Jedi teachings, but Anakin was fifteen now, and still as far from finding peace through releasing all his darker emotions into the Force as he had been back then. 

Obi-Wan knew it could not be blamed on Anakin. If a student was struggling with a lesson - and there was no denying that Anakin could not seem to accept the notion of letting go - wasn't the teacher the one at fault?

"Perhaps you should have brought your coursework for the history of the Republic," Obi-Wan said, aiming to lighten the atmosphere. "It never fails to get you to sleep."

Anakin caught Obi-Wan's gaze with his own: half pleading and half demanding. "You know what will help, Master. What has always helped."

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. He should have made a stop to this years ago. But for some reason, Obi-Wan had always found it impossible to deny Anakin this small comfort. No matter how inappropriate. 

But Anakin was fifteen now, showing no intention of stopping to seek Obi-Wan in pursuit of a connection that was already dangerously close to an attachment.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, keeping his voice mild but firm. "As you keep reminding me, you are not a youngling any more. There are more appropriate methods of dealing with a lack of sleep."

Anakin made a step forward before catching himself, his eyes flashing with hurt and urgency. "But this method works. We both know it. And it hurts no one."

Anakin had started pacing again, his tumultuous emotions bearing down on Obi-Wan's shields.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, keeping his calm despite Anakin's outburst. "I have taught you better than this, Padawan. Calm yourself."

Anakin stopped pacing and took a deep breath, the Force around him calming gradually. "Forgive me, Master," Anakin said, lowering his gaze. 

Obi-Wan sighed, dragging a hand across his face. "I am your teacher, Anakin. My task is to prepare you for the challenges that await you in the future, not make you reliant on me. You must know that there will come the time when I will no longer be beside you."

Anakin snapped his gaze up, his eyes wide and bewildered. "You are my Master. You can't leave me."

Obi-Wan felt something cold and heavy settle in the pit of his stomach. Something not unlike guilt. "Anakin," Obi-Wan said, keeping his voice carefully neutral even as Anakin, consciously or not, kept tugging at their bond, seeking assurance. It took more strength of will than it should have not to reach back. "I am not going anywhere."

Anakin glared at him accusingly over the gleam of unshed tears. "You just said that you won't be beside me."

Obi-Wan clung to his calm despite his worsening mood. "That is the natural order of things, Anakin. One day you will become a Knight with a Padawan of your own. You will walk a path different from mine."

Anakin shook his head in fierce denial. "But I'll still want you there, with me. I'll still need you, Master. Always. "

Obi-Wan's chest tightened with a pang of an old and familiar grief. "Nothing lasts forever, Anakin. Only the Force is eternal. And when my moment comes, I will become one with it."

"No," Anakin said in a low, intense voice; his conviction echoing in the Force. "That won't happen. I will not allow it."

"There is no- Anakin! " Obi-Wan exclaimed, bewildered, when he suddenly found himself pressed against the backrest with a lapful of distressed Padawan, clinging to him with a desperate grip on Obi-Wan's tunic.

Obi-Wan froze, his hands hanging limply by his sides, staring down helplessly at the blond head buried in the crook of his neck.

It has been a while since Anakin had sought comfort in such a manner. Despite Obi-Wan's admonishments, Anakin still regarded physical touch as the greatest source of assurance. And, more times than he was comfortable with, Obi-Wan found himself unable to deny it.

"You can't leave me, Master," Anakin sniffled, his voice coming out muffled. He tightened his grip on Obi-Wan's tunic, burrowing even closer, his end of their bond overflowing with an almost frantic, possessive need. "Promise you won't ever leave me."

Obi-Wan shut his eyes for a brief moment, deliberating his response. He knew, without a doubt, what he should do: extract himself from Anakin's grip and reaffirm the borders between them, then begin working on an alternative meditation routine with Anakin, considering how much trouble Anakin has always had with gaining inner peace through meditation. 

It would be a proper course of action; to act differently would be a disservice to Anakin and a teaching failure on Obi-Wan's part.

But Anakin was, and always has been, different. He felt too strongly, he needed too much, guarding his hurts far too close to his chest instead of letting them go. 

Sighing, Obi-Wan opened his eyes. He regarded the blond head nestled against him with a mixture of fondness and resignation, then he carefully put his arms around Anakin's trembling shoulders, opening his side of the bond.

Anakin latched onto it immediately; greedily drinking in the assurance and comfort Obi-Wan was sending through their bond.

"I am here, Anakin," Obi-Wan murmured soothingly. Anakin muttered something unintelligible, squirming in Obi-Wan's lap as he tried to nestle even closer, leaving a damp trace on the collar of Obi-Wan's tunic. "I am not leaving you."

Obi-Wan was unsure how much time had passed before Anakin had finally stopped trembling, ceasing his death grip on Obi-Wan's tunic. His Force signature had calmed significantly but he still held tightly onto their bond, unashamedly basking in the steady flow of soothing warmth coming from Obi-Wan's end.

Embellishing the truth until it became more agreeable was an effective method in diplomacy, but there was nothing beneficial in willfully ignoring the truth in the privacy of one's own mind. 

And the truth - naked, unadorned truth - was that Anakin's attachment to Obi-Wan, reflected clearly through the strength of their bond, was, and always has been, mutual. 

It remained to be seen whether it was for good, or for ill.

Releasing a deep breath, Obi-Wan gradually raised his shields. Anakin let out a muted sound of displeasure and tightened his grip on Obi-Wan's tunic, a brief spike of panic surging through their bond.

"Anakin, look at me," Obi-Wan said in a soft but steady voice, sending a reassuring pulse back at Anakin. 

Slowly, Anakin raised his head, his grip loosening but not withdrawing entirely. He stared at Obi-Wan with a mixture of defiance and embarrassment; his cheeks still wet from tears.

Obi-Wan patted the couch next to him. "It will be more comfortable for both of us if you don't end up crushing me, my not so little Padawan."

Anakin frowned, but made no move to argue. He climbed off Obi-Wan's lap, settling next to him on the couch. He glanced up at Obi-Wan expectantly, trying but failing to hide his apprehension.

"Yes, Master?" Anakin said, his fingers twitching nervously in his lap, obviously expecting a rebuke.

Obi-Wan forced his face into a neutral expression.  "You haven't told me what kind of story you would like to hear."

Anakin's eyes went wide. He looked utterly dumbstruck. He opened his mouth but no sound came out.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows in question,  suppressing a grin. "You are still interested in a story?"

Anakin's eyes narrowed faintly in suspicion, mind brushing tentatively against Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan lowered his shields for a beat, watching Anakin's suspicion transform into quiet wonder.

"Well?"

Anakin blinked, then glanced down, a spot of color appearing on his cheeks. Obi-Wan's eyebrows climbed higher. While Anakin's social graces could certainly use a polish, Anakin has never been particularly shy. Distrustful and guarded, yes, but very rarely shy. If anything, he was all too eager.

"Soulmates," Anakin said in a quiet voice. Then, more firmly, "I want a story about soulmates. A happy one."

Obi-Wan let out an amused huff. "That old myth?"

Anakin's gaze snapped up, eyes glinting fiercely. "Maybe it's not a myth. Even Jedi have a name for it: Force Dyad." 

"Master Aketo would have been thrilled if he knew you have been paying attention to at least one of his lessons."

Anakin regarded Obi-Wan silently one long moment. "You don't believe it's real?"

"Anakin-" Obi-Wan began but stopped himself, reconsidering his reply. Despite the heavy frown on Anakin's face, Obi-Wan could sense something vulnerable hidden beneath. This, for whatever reason, meant something to Anakin.

"There hasn't been a mention of a Force Dyad in centuries," Obi-Wan said, carefully choosing his words. "And what little information we have, is contradictory regarding the origin of such a bond."

"But do you believe it could be real?" Anakin insisted, a note of desperation seeping into his voice. He was leaning forward slightly, his body as taut as wire.

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. How could Anakin make everything so incredibly complicated?

"Anything is possible in the Force."

Anakin's eyes narrowed. "Don't give me that rhetoric poodoo," Anakin said, crossing his arms. "I want a real answer."

Obi-Wan gave him a pointed look. "I seem to remember teaching you to respect your elders."

"You also taught me how to recognize a deflection tactic," Anakin retorted, lifting his chin defiantly. "Master."

"Well, I am grateful I have managed to teach you something," Obi-Wan said, wry. "I would be happier, though, if you refrained from using it to make me age prematurely."

"You're not old, Master. But you are still deflecting."

Obi-Wan shook his head, fond and exasperated at the same time. "I see we are not moving past this subject." Stroking his beard, Obi-Wan contemplated his reply. "As Jedi, we are taught to trust in the will of the Force. It, however, does not mean an absence of choice. Or burden of consequence. The Force may provide us with a path, but, ultimately, it is our choice whether or not to follow it."

Anakin stared at him silently, his mouth pressed into a tight, unhappy line. Slowly, he uncrossed his arms, shifting so that there was more space between them on the couch. "You could have just said 'no'."

Obi-Wan swallowed a sigh. "Anakin-"

" You would have never chosen me if Qui-Gon hadn't died," Anakin said, turning away from Obi-Wan. "So save the lecture on choice for someone who doesn't know better."

Obi-Wan silently regarded Anakin's hunched back, his chest heavy with sorrow and guilt. It was a familiar weight, unlike the echo of another sensation twisting underneath: sharper and darker, and entirely Anakin's.

Obi-Wan pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead.

How long has this wound been festering inside Anakin? Since the very beginning? 

There was nothing Obi-Wan could do to rectify his past blindness, but there was something he could do now: offer Anakin the truth.

"You are right, I wouldn't have taken you on as my Padawan," Obi-Wan admitted somberly. Anakin visibly flinched, gripping the edge of the couch tightly, bleeding hurt and anger into the Force. "And it would have made me a lesser man."

Despite the twisting maelstrom of conflicting emotions surrounding him, Anakin remained silent and unmoving. It was... disconcerting. Anakin was always in motion, never content with being still.

"Won't you say something?" Obi-Wan prompted after the silence had stretched on for too long. Another uncharacteristic trait. Usually, Anakin voiced his displeasure. Quite loudly at that.

Anakin released his grip on the couch, keeping his back turned. "What do you want me to say?"

"I would prefer not to have this conversation with your back, Anakin."

Anakin shifted minutely, just enough to scowl at Obi-Wan over his shoulder. "And I would prefer a Master who doesn't see me as an obligation and a burden."

Obi-Wan had, at times, wondered whether an older, more experienced Jedi would have been a better choice for Anakin's master. Whether Yoda had done them both a disservice when he'd granted Obi-Wan's request. 

Now, watching this prickly, exuberant, impulsive boy, Obi-Wan could not imagine not having him by his side.

Would not imagine a life without Anakin in it.

"That is not true," Obi-Wan said. He shifted forward slightly, just enough to place his hand on Anakin's shoulder. Anakin was stiff underneath Obi-Wan's careful touch, eying Obi-Wan distrustfully. But he didn't pull away. It was… promising. "You are neither an obligation nor a burden."

Anakin's mouth twisted bitterly. "Then what am I to you?"

Obi-Wan swallowed tightly when the truth - always there but never fully acknowledged - became clear.

The bright center of my world.

It was the truth, precious and fundamental. But one Obi-Wan could not give a voice. Not yet. Possibly never.

"You are my Padawan," Obi-Wan said instead. Anakin's expression remained sullen, but - unconsciously or not - he leaned into Obi-Wan's touch, incrementally shifting until he was facing Obi-Wan fully. "I wouldn't want any other."

A glimmer of hope flickered through the shadows of doubt and hurt in Anakin's eyes. "Even if I'll never be a proper Padawan?"

Obi-Wan allowed himself a small, wry smile. He squeezed Anakin's shoulder lightly before pulling away his hand. "If you are not a proper Padawan, then, by extension, I must not be a proper Master."

"That's not true," Anakin said, indignated. "You're the best Master. Even better than Yoda."

Obi-Wan let out a huff of breath, fond and exasperated in equal measure. One of the first things Obi-Wan had learned about Anakin had been his fierce devotion to those he cared for. With years, it has only become more prominent, turning into a sort of possessiveness Obi-Wan has repeatedly failed to discourage.

"Only when you are not angry at me," Obi-Wan remarked, the corner of his mouth curving faintly. "And that is 'Master Yoda', Anakin. He has certainly earned to be addressed as such."

"Sorry, Master," Anakin said, ducking his head. "It won't happen again."

That was patently untrue but not of immediate concern. Not when Obi-Wan could still sense the tendrils of hurt and bitterness darkening Anakin's Force signature. Hurt and bitterness that have festered inside Anakin for far too long.

"Anakin, I need you to listen to me," Obi-Wan said solemnly. 

Startled, Anakin looked up. He regarded Obi-Wan warily. "Yes, Master?"

Something tightened in Obi-Wan's chest. He let it out on a long, controlled exhale. "I regret not having said so before, but I am honored to be your Master."

Anakin's eyes widened, wariness turning to surprise, turning to joy in the space of a single moment. 

"I would give much to have Qui-Gon alive and well," Obi-Wan admitted in a quiet voice. It was difficult to say those words, for more than one reason. The rest came to him far easier. "But I would never change taking you on as my apprentice. Never doubt that."

Obi-Wan recognized Anakin's intention a moment before he found himself - for the second time in less than an hour - enveloped in a bone-crushing embrace.

"Master," Anakin's voice was tight, his grip no less unyielding in joy than it had been in desperation. He mumbled something, words coming out muffled, unrecognizable, but the emotion behind them - curling warm and bright around Obi-Wan - spoke clearly on its own.

"Oh, Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed, carefully folding his arms around Anakin, heedless of how blatantly he was disregarding his own teachings. "What am I to do with you?"

Anakin raised his head, beaming at Obi-Wan. It was like staring at a sun. His eyes twinkling, Anakin pulled back, then proceeded to arrange them until Obi-Wan was sitting in the corner of the couch, leaning against the backrest, and Anakin was lying on his side, his head propped against Obi-Wan's tigh.

"I'm ready now, Master," Anakin said, looking up at Obi-Wan expectantly.

Obi-Wan could easily imagine the disapproval on Yoda's face, but he didn't allow himself to dwell on it. Not when there was nothing but warm contentment flowing through their bond.

Still. With all the boundaries Obi-Wan had allowed to be crossed tonight, the least he could do was try and achieve a token victory.

"You will get your story, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, resisting the urge to tug on Anakin's braid in response to Anakin's smug grin. "However, once we are back at the Temple, I will get one in exchange."

Anakin blinked, confused. "You want me to tell you a story?"

Obi-Wan's mouth curved into a grin. "A specific story, Padawan." Obi-Wan paused, amused by the deepening frown on Anakin's face. "Battle of Malachor V and its consequences."

Anakin groaned. "But you already know it. Better than I do."

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow. "A story for a story. I think it is a fair deal."

"Fine," Anakin conceded sullenly. He shifted until he was sprawled on his back, his head still resting on Obi-Wan's thigh. Then, after a moment of silent deliberation, he reached after Obi-Wan's right hand and, giving Obi-Wan a look that was equal parts defiant and shy, tangled their fingers together. "Better make it a good one."

Obi-Wan stared at their joint hands, his chest constricting with a sudden sense of foreboding; his heart rate spiking momentarily.

He was dragged back to the present by Anakin's concerned, "Master? Are you all right?"

Obi-Wan blinked, once, twice, as if waking from a dream, trying but failing to hold onto a half-formed thought.

"I-" Obi-Wan swallowed, dragging his gaze away from the sight of their clasped hands, meeting Anakin's worried eyes. Anakin was propped on his elbows, his entire body tense. Obi-Wan let out a deep breath, his heartbeat turning steady once again. "Yes, of course. It was just a momentary distraction."

Anakin's eyes narrowed faintly. "You're not trying to get out of our deal, are you?"

"If I were, my very suspicious Padawan, I would hardly resort to such an obvious ruse."

Anakin regarded him closely for a moment before returning to his previous position. "Remember, I want a happy end."

Obi-Wan inclined his head in an imitation of a bow. "As you wish."

Anakin gave him an impatient look. "I really do. Tonight, if possible."

"Patience is a virtue, Anakin," Obi-Wan said lightly. Then, "Something, very much like you, a boy by the name…"

It was much later, after Anakin had fallen asleep, that Obi-Wan had become aware he was still holding onto Anakin's, now lax, hand.

Obi-Wan fell silent, his gaze drifting from Anakin's peaceful, relaxed features to their entwined fingers, his chest filling with something bright and warm.

Careful not to wake Anakin, Obi-Wan shifted so he could lean his head against the backrest and allowed his eyes to drift shut, his hand never letting go of Anakin's.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan pushed himself into a sitting position, alert and ready to spring to action despite having been woken quite abruptly.

He reached with the Force, ready to call his lightsaber to his hand, when-

"Master!" Anakin exclaimed, loud and exuberant, taking one stumbling step forward, swaying dangerously on his feet.

Obi-Wan released a deep breath, his body relaxing in increments, as another kind of tension began forming inside Obi-Wan's skull.

With a flick of his wrist, Obi-Wan turned on the lights, bathing the room in a soft, yellow glow.

And promptly wished he could get back to sleep.

Anakin looked… a mess. His tabards were absent, and so was his belt, his tunic was loosened at the neck and hanging askew. He was also flushed, his pupils dilated, and he looked one small step away from falling flat on his face.

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes briefly.

"You are drunk," Obi-Wan stated flatly. At least he hoped that was all. He was in no state of mind to deal with an Anakin under the combined influence of alcohol and death sticks.

"You're here," Anakin said with a wide, dopey grin, looking relieved. As if he'd spent the better part of the night searching for Obi-Wan instead of getting himself drunk somewhere in the lower levels. He took another uncertain step forward, his eyes resting unblinkingly on Obi-Wan. "I wanted to see you."

Obi-Wan felt Anakin's regard almost like a physical touch, ghosting along his face, but not stopping there. It trailed along the curve of his shoulders, then down the length of his chest, pausing at his waist, only to climb back up, slower this time.

Instinctively, Obi-Wan glanced down at the cover pooling in his lap, but stopped himself before he could follow through on a rather ridiculous impulse and cover himself up.

Obi-Wan snapped his gaze up, annoyed. Although, he could not tell whether he was more annoyed with Anakin or himself. 

"Yes, it is a strange coincidence I am in my bed in the middle of the night. Sleeping. Well," Obi-Wan added wryly. "Trying to, at least."

Anakin merely smiled wider - warm, soft, and not a little dazed -  either not caring or not noticing Obi-Wan's mood. Knowing Anakin, it was probably the combination of the two.

"I couldn't sleep either," Anakin said, swaying slightly.

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a flat look, gesturing in his general direction. "I see you have found an alternative solution to that problem."

Anakin's brow creased, the haze clearing somewhat from his eyes. "I asked you to come with me. I wanted you to come."

"Padawan-"

"I'm not your Padawan anymore," Anakin cut in sharply.

Obi-Wan's gaze flicked to where Anakin's braid used to be, a dull sort of ache strangled his breath for a brief moment. It has been three weeks since Anakin had been knighted, and Obi-Wan still could not decide whether everything between them has changed, or nothing has changed at all.

"Yes, of course," Obi-Wan said, his voice carefully neutral. "My apologies, Knight Skywalker."

Anakin blinked, frowning. A flicker of hurt seeped through their bond despite the heavy shields erected on Anakin's side. Obi-Wan was aware that his… displeasure with Anakin's abrupt need for complete privacy was as irrational as it was impractical. That didn't stop Obi-Wan from wondering what had happened on Naboo to merit such a drastic change from Anakin's usual overuse of their bond.

Although, Obi-Wan could certainly make an educated guess.

Anakin's mouth twisted bitterly. "I'm no longer your Padawan but still not your equal. Right, Master Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan pressed his mouth into a tight line. Anakin has always had a rather strained relationship with the Jedi Council despite Obi-Wan's best efforts to mediate. Now, it seemed, he's taken Obi-Wan's appointment to the Council as a personal slight.

"I will not have this discussion with you in the middle of the night," Obi-Wan snapped, irritated. He threw the cover off himself, possibly with more force than needed, and stood up, fixing Anakin with a narrow-eyed stare. "Especially not in your present state. Now sit down and try not to do anything... inadvisable until I return."

Anakin lifted his chin defiantly. "I no longer need to obey you."

Obi-Wan regarded him silently one long moment. It was near impossible to recognize that small, golden-haired boy in the young man Anakin had grown into: tall, broad-shouldered and lithe, with hair at least two shades darker. 

Even his eyes had changed; still the same deep shade of blue, but sharper and harder. 

Darker.

"No," Obi-Wan said finally. "You do not."

Without another word, Obi-Wan strode out of the room, the door hissing closed after him. 

But not before he'd seen the bewildered look in Anakin's eyes.

Obi-Wan entered the small kitchenette, adjacent to the main living area. Neither he nor Anakin were accomplished cooks, so it hadn't seen much use. Its main use had always been in preparation of tea and caf. 

Grasping the edge of the counter, Obi-Wan leaned forward and shut his eyes. He half-expected Anakin to stride out of Obi-Wan's room in a huff at any moment, but it did not happen.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. And then he did it again. And again. And one more time. Until, finally, he could think without the weight of everything that has happened in hardly more than one standard month pressing down on his mind and soul in equal measure.

Reunion between Anakin and Padmé, Dooku being a Sith, the mystery behind the clone army, Jedi dying by the dozens on Geonosis, the disastrous fight with Dooku.

And now, war. One in which Jedi would have an active role as generals.

If nothing else, Obi-Wan's thoughts were very clear on that particular matter. Not that it mattered. He was bound, by honor and duty, to protect the Republic, to die for it if need be. While he was in no hurry to die, Obi-Wan didn't fear death. But he feared that the price they might have to pay would be much steeper than that.

Be mindful of the present, Obi-Wan. Don't get lost in the future.

Obi-Wan's mouth quirked faintly. That was - and always has been - the one lesson Qui-Gon had not been able to teach him. 

An uncharacteristically timid tug on Obi-Wan's end of the bond had brought his thoughts back to the here and now with far more efficiency than any of Qui-Gon's numerous lectures had ever achieved.

Just another moment, Anakin, Obi-Wan sent. 

Anakin sent a somewhat vague sort of acknowledgement before once again withdrawing behind his shields.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, sighing. By all rights, their bond should have been severed after Anakin's knighting. Obi-Wan should have made certain of it. Then again, Obi-Wan should never have allowed their bond to strengthen to the point they could feel each other's presence from miles away and exchange not only words but visuals as well.

Obi-Wan had always kept the use of the bond minimal, as not to encourage Anakin's ever growing reliance on it. 

Obi-Wan was aware of the irony of suddenly finding himself on the other side of the wall that separated their minds. Just as he was aware how much he missed the reassurance of Anakin's distinctive Force presence.

Perhaps it was for the best. This way, with Anakin's neglect and Obi-Wan's restraint, their bond should gradually lessen on its own, until it would become a pale shadow of its previous strength: frail and insignificant. And Obi-Wan would never find himself in a position of having to choose between disobeying the Council or hurting Anakin.

A most fortunate solution, Obi-Wan thought wryly, taking a mug out of the cupboard. He filled it with water and, after a short stop at the refresher, added a capsule that had quickly dissolved in the water, coloring it pale green.

Obi-Wan eyed the liquid with a faint quirk of his mouth, already imagining Anakin's reaction.

"Here, Anakin," Obi-Wan said over the sound of the door hissing closed behind him. "I-"

Obi-Wan trailed off, frowning, as he stared at his former Padawan, now sans outer tunic, sitting on Obi-Wan's bed and fumbling with his boots.

Anakin looked up from his boots, tilting his head to the side. "Yes, Master?"

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, only to close it after a moment of consideration. He rounded the bed, pausing to pick up Anakin's outer tunic, folding it neatly and placing on the small night cabinet.

A fond smile curved on Obi-Wan's lips as his fingers trailed across the soft fabric.

How many times had he done the same? Picked up Anakin's discarded clothes, droid parts or tools, because Anakin had never seemed able to heed Obi-Wan's lectures on the value of neatness for more than a standard week.

A sudden, sharp ache coiled tightly around his heart. He squeezed his fingers around Anakin's tunic, clenching his jaw.

"Master?" 

Obi-Wan pulled his hand as if burned, meeting Anakin's concerned gaze. A beat later, he felt a careful, inquisitive tendril brush against his mind, both curious and soothing.

Obi-Wan hesitated a moment before meeting Anakin halfway, feeling some of the weight he's been carrying since Geonosis dissipate from his chest.

I have missed this.

It was a stray thought, unbidden and unwelcome, and all the more real for it. 

"Here, drink this," Obi-Wan said after a moment, offering Anakin the mug with the green liquid.

Anakin took it without hesitation, then made a face after taking a sniff. "What is this? It smells like mold. It even looks like mold."

Obi-Wan folded his hands across his chest. "You will thank me in the morning. Now drink it."

Anakin sent Obi-Wan a dirty look, but drank anyway.

"That was disgusting," Anakin said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then giving the mug back to Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan took it, grinning unabashedly. He walked over to the night cabinet, placing the mug next to Anakin's tunic.

"Remember this for the next time you decide to attempt alcohol poisoning," Obi-Wan said over his shoulder.

"I wasn't trying to poison myself," Anakin said quietly.

Obi-Wan frowned, then turned around slowly. He watched as Anakin struggled with the fastenings on his boots, caught between amusement and exasperation.

In the end, exasperation had won.

Obi-Wan strode over to where Anakin was sitting, lowering himself onto his knees in front of Anakin.

"Let me," Obi-Wan ordered, batting away Anakin's hands. "Or neither of us will get any sleep tonight."

Anakin's eyes went very wide, his mouth parting slightly, but no sound came out. 

Something flashed in the Force - molten and syrupy - but it disappeared before Obi-Wan could make sense of it.

"Did you have fun?" Obi-Wan said in a light voice. He could not name the reason for it, but he felt the need to keep the atmosphere between them as light as possible. He tapped on Anakin's right ankle. "Up."

Anakin lifted his leg obligingly, allowing Obi-Wan to pull off his boot.

"It would've been better if you had come," Anakin said, voice far too quiet. "You promised me."

Obi-Wan had finished undoing the fastenings on Anakin's right boot, but didn't look up. Didn't want to see the disappointment on Anakin's face.

The entire week after his knighting, Anakin had been pestering Obi-Wan nonstop to go out and celebrate. Obi-Wan had finally caved on the last day, but in the following days - amidst all the chaos that had followed in the wake of Geonosis - he had forgotten about his promise.

And Anakin had obviously given up on waiting for him.

"I am an old, tired man," Obi-Wan said, but even to his own ears his joke sounded forced. "I would have only been a bother."

Obi-Wan managed not to flinch when a hand had settled on his head but only just. He glanced up, uncertain, his fingers stilling their work on the fastenings of Anakin's left boot.

"You're not old, Master," Anakin said softly. His eyes gleamed, but it wasn't the drunken haze from before. "And you're never a bother. Not to me."

Obi-Wan made himself ignore the sudden shift in the Force, the space between them turning heated and thick, heavy with something Obi-Wan could not yet name.

"I distinctly remember-" 

Obi-Wan cut himself off, inhaling sharply, when Anakin slowly slid his hand down the side of Obi-Wan's face in a gesture that could not be mistaken for anything but what it was.

A caress.

"I will always want you by my side, Master," Anakin said, the leather of his glove cool against Obi-Wan's cheek. "Always."

Caught between two conflicting, but equally as strong, impulses, Obi-Wan forced himself to stay completely still. 

"Always implies an awfully long amount of time, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, trying to break the tension between them and guide them back, away from this unknown new territory they have strayed into.

A territory in which Anakin's fervent gaze was following the path his fingers were tracing along the line of Obi-Wan's jaw.

Anakin hummed a noncommittal sound, seemingly entranced. He moved his hand down until it rested on the nape of Obi-Wan's neck. He let out a soft noise, tangling his fingers in Obi-Wan's hair, his gaze flicking briefly toward Obi-Wan's mouth.

A slew of disjointed images - pale hands moving over tanned skin, gloved fingers tugging on auburn hair, a naked back arching underneath an opened mouth - burst to life before Obi-Wan's mind's eye, drawing a small, shocked sound out of his throat.

Obi-Wan was on his feet instantly, uncomfortably aware of the raw desire permeating the Force.

"I believe you can take care of this one on your own," Obi-Wan said, gesturing toward Anakin's remaining boot, his voice wavering just a little.

"Master-" Anakin started, his voice raw with longing.

Obi-Wan took a careful step back, not missing the flicker of misery in Anakin's eyes a second before he looked away, bending down to take care of his boot.

Obi-Wan turned away, feeling as if he had stepped into a field of zero gravity: weightless, unmoored, helpless. Lost in the sea of his own unruly emotions: shock, guilt, shame, and beneath it all, something new and still fragile, but growing stronger by the moment.

Obi-Wan shut his eyes and took a deep, controlled breath, forcibly banishing every single one of those emotions, until there was nothing inside his head preventing him from thinking.

Had Obi-Wan been mistaken about Anakin's... regard toward Senator Amidala? Or was it simply that Anakin's infatuation was one sided? What had really happened between the two during the time they have spent alone?

So many questions, and not one answer. Only a wall around Anakin's mind. And, apparently, a drunken, misdirected desire. He could ask, of course, but he suspected that would result in nothing but sullen silence. Or lies.

Obi-Wan sighed and opened his eyes, dragging a hand across his face, something bitter stinging the inside of his throat at the realization: somehow, somewhere, he had lost Anakin's absolute trust.

"-er? Master?"

By the sound of a growing alarm in Anakin's voice, he had been trying for some time to catch Obi-Wan's attention.

Obi-Wan fixed his face into a neutral expression before turning to face Anakin. "Yes, Anakin?"

Anakin was no longer sitting, instead he stood barely a step away, regarding Obi-Wan with guarded eyes. He looked completely sober. Only two fading spots of color high on his cheeks spoke of what has happened moments before.

"I asked you a question," Anakin said. "You weren't answering."

"I'm sorry, I was lost in thought. What did you want to know?"

Anakin studied his face silently for a long moment. Then, he squared his shoulders, something hard coalescing in his eyes. "There are rumors we are being deployed by the end of the next week."

"I see," Obi-Wan said slowly. 

Anakin's eyes narrowed instantly, the leather of his glove creaking as he curled his mechno hand into a fist. "And? Are the rumors true?" Anakin demanded impatiently.

Obi-Wan dragged his fingers through his hair. He had hoped to have this conversation after at least four hours of sleep. 

"Well?" Anakin's voice grew sharper.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. 

Suddenly, Obi-Wan felt tired beyond his years. He walked past Anakin, ignoring the glare Anakin sent his way. He flopped down on the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees and bowing his head down.

"Some details have yet to be sorted, but we are most likely shipping out in five days at the latest," Obi-Wan said in a monotone voice. Majority of the Jedi have already assumed their command over their battalions and been deployed. Obi-Wan suspected the injuries they had sustained during their duel with Dooku was the reason he and Anakin still remained at the Temple. "I am to assume command of the 212th Attack Battalion."

Obi-Wan paused, swallowing back a bitter laugh. A Star Destroyer and a battalion of men under his command. It was decidedly not what he'd been expecting of his future as a Jedi when he'd been a thirteen-year-old boy, making his first steps on the road to Knighthood.

A moment passed, followed by another. And another. The only sound disturbing the near oppressing silence in the room was the steady rasp of Obi-Wan's breath. Even the Force seemed strangely still, almost subdued.

A calm before the storm.

Frowning, Obi-Wan looked up. Anakin was standing at the exact same place as before, still and silent. Only his eyes seemed alive: glinting from an inner fire.

"Don't you want to know your assignment?"

Anakin's mouth twisted bitterly. "Are you going to tell me?"

"501st Legion," Obi-Wan replied. He hesitated a moment before adding, "I don't yet know the name of your clone commander, only his designation: CT-7567."

An expression of disgust twisted Anakin's features. A beat later he began pacing."It's wrong to call them by their designations. They are people, not numbers."

Obi-Wan sighed. "There are very few things that could be deemed right about the current state of the galaxy."

Anakin scoffed and continued pacing. Obi-Wan watched him for a moment, studying the graceful way Anakin moved, his almost delicate features standing in contrast to his physical strength.

Soon, Obi-Wan thought wryly, skill won't be enough to ensure I come out the victor in hand-to-hand combat.

Obi-Wan could easily imagine how smug Anakin would inevitably be after finally claiming victory over Obi-Wan.

"Anakin, not that I don't appreciate your company," Obi-Wan said after it had become obvious Anakin had no intention of doing the sensible thing and going back to his room to sleep. And allow Obi-Wan to do the same. "But it is rather late and we both need sleep."

Anakin came to an abrupt halt barely a pace from where Obi-Wan was sitting, but showing no intention of leaving the room.

Obi-Wan straightened slowly, the sudden rigid set of Anakin's shoulders making him wary. "Anakin?" Obi-Wan prompted cautiously. "Is there something you wish to tell me?"

"Will the Council separate us?" Anakin blurted out, his voice nearly cracking.

Obi-Wan blinked, startled. This… wasn't what he'd expected to hear. He'd thought Anakin might confess to an indiscretion involving Senator Amidala, not this.

"I don't know for certain," Obi-Wan said. "It is a possibility."

Obi-Wan couldn't recall seeing Anakin move, but, in the space of a heartbeat, he was kneeling in front of Obi-Wan, holding Obi-Wan's right hand between both of his own.

"You're on the Council," Anakin urged, a note of desperation seeping into his voice. "You could ask them to keep us together."

"I have been a member of the Council for less than a month standard, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, a touch too sharp. He paused for a moment, then continued in a calmer voice, "Surely you understand how little sway I have over them."

Anakin frowned, his frustration a near palpable thing in the Force. "That is utter kark and you know it. They wouldn't have made you one of them if they didn't value your insight."

For a brief moment, something dark and bitter flashed in Anakin's eyes, as if to say: like they never have valued mine.

"Even if it were- For Force's sake, Anakin, stop being ridiculous and get up," Obi-Wan snapped, annoyed, extracting his hand from Anakin's hold.

Anakin pressed his mouth into a tight line, looking mulish. Nevertheless, he'd made no protest as he pushed himself to his feet. Darting a quick glance at Obi-Wan, Anakin pushed Obi-Wan's rumpled cover aside, and took a seat next to Obi-Wan, giving him a pointed look.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, infusing his voice with as much patience as he was able at that moment. Which, granted, wasn't much. "The Republic is at war. This is hardly the time to play favorites."

"It's not playing favorites if we're getting results," Anakin insisted. "You know we're a good team. Unless-" Anakin trailed off, his expression shuttering.

Obi-Wan tensed instantly. Anakin's emotions have always been at their most dangerous when Anakin had kept them locked inside.

"Anakin-"

"Unless you don't want me beside you," Anakin finished, flatly. 

Obi-Wan let out an annoyed huff of breath. "Now you're just acting childish."

It was the wrong thing to say. 

The sudden flash in Anakin's eyes had been Obi-Wan's only warning. A beat later, unyielding fingers have closed around his biceps, pulling him forward, until there was barely any space between their bodies.

"I am not a child," Anakin said slowly, his voice durasteel hard. From this close, Obi-Wan could feel Anakin's hot breath on his face, see the fierce gleam in his eyes. "I am no longer your Padawan, but a grown man. When are you going to see it? When are you going to see me for who I am now?"

It was the truth. One Obi-Wan had been struggling with ever since Anakin had returned from Naboo: subdued, quieter, colder. 

And then, a few days later, Obi-Wan had been standing inside the Council Chambers, fingers wrapped around Anakin's Padawan braid, Anakin beside him, but to Obi-Wan he had felt light years away.

"That is not true," Obi-Wan said. "I do see you, Anakin."

Obi-Wan could see Anakin's throat work as he swallowed, could almost feel the heat of his gaze as it caught on his mouth. 

"Do you?" Anakin all but whispered, his gaze fixed on Obi-Wan's lips. He moved, just a tiny increment, lowering his head.

For a short moment - an utterly mad and reckless second - Obi-Wan stayed completely still; a small step away from a precipice, lost in the heat emanating from Anakin, both physically and in the Force, and the rush of his own blood.

And then the moment had passed, shattering underneath the weight of reason and all the many reasons why what they had been about to do was forbidden.

Obi-Wan pulled back - not far, just enough to stay out of reach - stopping Anakin with a hand splayed across his chest: not pushing him away, but not allowing him closer.

"Yes, I do," Obi-Wan said, voice not wavering despite the sudden, sharp ache concentrated in the middle of his chest. "Do you want to know what I see?"

Anakin blinked, his expression turning pained. "Obi-Wan, please ."

Obi-Wan's mouth curved faintly into a smile; it felt brittle and rueful. "I see a young man who had once been a small boy under my charge. I-" Obi-Wan's voice faltered briefly, the words scraping his throat raw. He swallowed thickly, reaching up to gently pry Anakin's hands off his biceps. Anakin's grip tightened briefly, as if in reflex, only to loosen entirely in the next moment. "I cannot see anything else, Anakin. I mustn't ."

Anakin gave Obi-Wan one last pleading look before folding his hands in his lap and turning away, looking small and dejected.

Obi-Wan allowed his eyes to drift shut, aware that there was nothing he could do - nothing he could say, despite how good he was at shaping the words to suit his purpose - to mend the tear in their relationship.

All he could do now was… wait. Wait until Anakin has forgotten all about his momentary infatuation. Something that would undoubtedly happen. After all, Anakin was not the first, nor would he be the last Padawan to develop an attraction to their Master. 

Obi-Wan could wait. Would wait as long as it was needed. But what if time was luxury Obi-Wan could not afford? Not now. Not with war waiting to drag them both into its greedy jaws.

"I guess now you really won't do anything to keep us together. Right, Master?"

Obi-Wan snapped his eyes open, startled out of his thoughts. "I- What?"

Anakin was still sitting in the same place, his head bowed and shoulders slumped forward. He threw a quick glance in Obi-Wan's direction, then returned to staring down at his lap.

"I still want us to stay together," Anakin said, the calm of his voice contrasted by the way his fingers kept fidgeting. He hesitated briefly before adding, "I promise not to try anything."

Obi-Wan stood up, taking two aimless steps forward, dragging a hand through his hair, feeling a coil of dread tighten slowly around his chest. It wasn't even that Obi-Wan didn't believe Anakin's promise, because he did. It was the strength of his own - selfish, inadvisable, and utterly dangerous - desire to stay close to Anakin that frightened him.

Anakin was young, and has always felt too much, and too strongly. Obi-Wan... had neither of those excuses.

He could not afford excuses.

"Master, I know I have-"

"You should stop calling me that," Obi-Wan snapped, then regretted his outburst immediately. He forced his face into what he hoped was an amiable expression, and then he turned around. "I do have a name."

Anakin's expression was closed off. Not that it did him much good; Obi-Wan could sense his hurt and agitation clearly in the Force. "Very well."

Obi-Wan stopped himself from pinching the bridge of his nose. "I have always thought you could hardly wait for the moment you would no longer be my Padawan."

Anakin lifted his chin. "You didn't stop being my Master just because I am now a Knight. You will always be my Master."

Perhaps it was the unequivocal certainty in Anakin's voice, or perhaps Obi-Wan had always, on some level, been aware of the truth that has suddenly crystallized inside his very core: boy or man, Padawan or Jedi Knight, Anakin would always claim the very center of Obi-Wan's orbit. 

And nothing could change that. Only death.

"If there should appear a possibility for a joint assignment," Obi-Wan said quietly. He felt strangely free of guilt and doubt; as if he were following a path that had been laid out for him a long time ago. "I will try to convince the Council to give it to us."

Anakin's eyes widened, his expression changing lightning quick, finally settling on a fragile, tentative hope. "You really mean that?"

"I would not have said it otherwise." 

Anakin's relief was immediate and unbridled, sweeping over Obi-Wan in a warm rush. He made a move as if to stand up, but reconsidered it.

"I'll have your back, Ma- Obi-Wan , I promise." Anakin's gaze flicked down to his hands. He curled his mechno hand into a tight fist, his expression hardening. "I won't fail you. Not this time."

Obi-Wan sighed, moving forward before he had fully recognized the intention. He sat next to Anakin, just close enough not to make it seem he was keeping distance.

"You haven't failed me, Anakin. You have saved my life." Obi-Wan flicked a glance at Anakin's gloved hand, recalling the sensation of a sharp, searing pain that had filtered through their bond. "At great personal loss."

"I should have been stronger."

"Torturing yourself over it will not help," Obi-Wan said, mildly. "Learning from your mistakes will."

Anakin's lips curled over his teeth, his eyes glinting dangerously. "I have learned my lesson. To defeat Dooku I need to be more powerful." Anakin brought up his mechno hand, staring at it for a long moment. Then, he closed it into a fist. "And I will be."

Obi-Wan shivered involuntarily as something cold and dark suffused the Force, curling around Anakin like a poisonous vine.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan exclaimed, sharply, a touch of dread seeping into his voice. 

Anakin blinked, dismayed, and lowered his hand. "Master?"

Obi-Wan ignored Anakin's slip, reaching forward and covering Anakin's gloved hand with his own. It was still curled into a fist.

Anakin remained silent, but Obi-Wan didn't miss the brief flicker of delight coming from him at the contact.

"I bear no love for Dooku," Obi-Wan said, disdain seeping into his voice against his will. "Should it prove necessary, I will not hesitate in striking him down."

"Only if I don't beat you to it," Anakin said, grimly determined.

"If that is the will of the Force, then so be it. But, Anakin," Obi-Wan paused, his fingers closing tight around Anakin's hand. "Not with anger in your heart. Not out of hate or revenge. Don't go down that path, Anakin. It leads to a dark place."

Anakin went deathly still all of a sudden, his shields so tight they might as well have been made of durasteel. 

Obi-Wan frowned, disconcerted. "Anakin, is there something you wish to tell me?"

"No, Master," Anakin replied firmly. He didn't hesitate, but he avoided meeting Obi-Wan's gaze.

"Are you certain?" Obi-Wan prompted. "You have been closed off from our bond ever since your return from Naboo."

Anakin's fingers twitched underneath Obi-Wan's grip. Obi-Wan glanced down at his hand, somewhat dismayed; he had completely forgotten he was still holding onto Anakin.

With a small sigh, Obi-Wan pulled his hand away. "You may no longer be my Padawan, Anakin, but I want you to know-"

"My mother is dead," Anakin said abruptly, voice void of all feeling. It was the worst sound Obi-Wan has ever heard. "She was murdered. Tortured for days. She died in my arms."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, his chest aching. He felt… he couldn't tell what, for certain; there was too much of it. There was one certainty, though.

"You are angry with me," Obi-Wan stated, opening his eyes.

Anakin winced, his shields faltering, pouring raw anguish and molten fury into the Force. Obi-Wan inhaled sharply, lost briefly in the maelstrom of Anakin's emotions. 

As suddenly as it had begun, it just… stopped.

"What does it matter how I feel?" Anakin said, still in that same hollow voice. Still refusing to meet Obi-Wan's gaze. "She is gone. Nothing can change that now."

Obi-Wan has lived his entire life by the Jedi Code. It was the only life he has ever known. The only life he has wanted for himself.

And yet.

Releasing a deep breath, Obi-Wan swallowed the words that were crowding in his throat. "I am sorry, Anakin," he said instead, lowering his shields. 

Obi-Wan could pinpoint the exact moment Anakin had noticed Obi-Wan's unspoken invitation: his shoulders had gone rigid, followed by a sharp exhale, and then, finally, his gaze had risen to meet Obi-Wan's.

Following an impulse he refused to examine closely, Obi-Wan spread his arms. 

Anakin stared at Obi-Wan with wide eyes. "Obi-Wan," he whispered, his guarded expression shattering.

Obi-Wan merely spread his arms wider, grunting as Anakin all but threw himself into Obi-Wan's embrace. He closed his arms around Anakin's back, sending comfort and reassurance through their bond, allowing Anakin to grieve.

Obi-Wan could not tell how much time had passed until Anakin's shoulders had stopped shaking with muffled sobs. Until raw misery bleeding off of Anakin no longer seemed as if it had been tearing his soul apart.

Sniffling, Anakin raised his head so it was no longer pressed against Obi-Wan's shoulder. He sniffled one more time, then wiped his face with the edge of his sleeve. 

The gesture - unrefined and innocent at the same time - made something deep inside Obi-Wan twist with an ache that seemed both new and familiar.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Anakin asked, his voice ragged from crying, his eyes red and puffy.

Obi-Wan frowned, his entire body going tense. Slowly, he disentangled fingers of his right hand from the soft hair of Anakin's nape, then moved to pull away entirely.

Anakin's eyes widened in alarm. "Just to sleep," Anakin assured, urgent and pleading. As if to prove the truthfulness of his words, Anakin raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I promise. I'll sleep on the floor if you want. I just- I don't want to be alone tonight."

Obi-Wan shook his head, exasperated. "I'm not afraid for my virtue, Anakin. Believe it or not, you are hardly the first Padawan who had developed a… crush, for lack of a better word, on their master." Obi-Wan stood up, striding over to the closet on the other side of the room. He opened it, pulling out a blanket and a pillow. "It happens more often than one would think," Obi-Wan said over his shoulder, wondering should he take an extra blanket, considering Anakin's aversion to the cold. "It never lasts long."

Deciding that one blanket would be enough, Obi-Wan closed the closet. When he returned, he found Anakin sitting on the bed, and regarding Obi-Wan with an indecipherable look. He looked better, though. His face still bore the signs of his earlier breakdown, but he no longer seemed in immediate danger of losing himself to his grief and anger. 

Despite Anakin's relative calm, Obi-Wan could not find it in himself to deny his plea. Even if a significant part of Obi-Wan urged against sharing a bed with Anakin. 

"Here," Obi-Wan said, tossing Anakin both the pillow and the blanket.

Anakin caught them deftly, still giving Obi-Wan the same look. "Are you sure? I don't mind sleeping on the floor."

Obi-Wan felt a knot of tension unwind in the pit of his stomach. A passing fancy was hardly good enough of a reason to make Anakin sleep on the floor. He needed rest. Considering what awaited them in the near future, comfort and rest would undoubtedly become scarce.

"If I make you sleep on the floor, I wouldn't hear the end of it," Obi-Wan said, walking over to the other side of the bed. "Just refrain from kicking me in your sleep. You are not a youngling anymore. This time, it might even hurt."

The corner of Anakin's mouth twitched. It was not a smile, not truly, but it was a step in the right direction. 

Anakin didn't say anything. He threw the pillow on the floor and stood up, shaking out the blanket Obi-Wan had provided him with. Then, he unceremoniously flopped down onto the bed, tugging the blanket over himself, belatedly remembering to grab the pillow off the floor and push it underneath his head.

Obi-Wan resignedly shook his head at Anakin's antics. He has long since come to terms with his failure in teaching Anakin more than a semblance of decorum. Despite that, there have been moments - there still were - when he had to have swallowed a rebuke or risk inciting Anakin's petty side.

Sighing, Obi-Wan got into bed and pulled the cover over himself. As an afterthought, he flicked his fingers, dimming the lights. 

"That was a frivolous use of the Force, Master Kenobi," Anakin teased, shifting until he was lying on his side, facing Obi-Wan. 

"I hope I can count on your discretion, Knight Skywalker," Obi-Wan said, matching Anakin's tone. It didn't come to him as easy as it usually would have had. Considering everything that's happened tonight, it was hardly surprising. But there was no denying the comfort and assurance of falling back into familiar patterns. "Or need I remind you about an incident involving a certain junior Padawan and Mace Windu's lightsaber."

Anakin let out a disgruntled huff of breath. "We have agreed never to mention… the incident. Ever ."

Obi-Wan felt his mouth curve into a smile. Incident, indeed. "I suppose my own indiscretion is safe with you, then."

Anakin snorted. "Like anybody would believe me if I'd told them."

Obi-Wan made a noncommittal sound. "There is that, yes."

Anakin grumbled something, the words coming out muffled.

They lapsed into silence after that. 

Obi-Wan allowed his eyes to drift shut and folded his arms across his chest as to take up less space on the bed, entering an almost meditative trance. He would have achieved it, had it not been for the constant low buzz of Anakin's consciousness in the Force. Not to mention his incessant squirming.

Sighing, Obi-Wan opened his eyes. He reached into their bond and cast a soft, inquiring tendril toward Anakin's restless mind. 

Anakin welcomed him easily, sending back a pulse of warmth. Obi-Wan brushed across Anakin's surface thoughts, gently smoothing lingering grief and guilt, but steering clear from the dark shadows marring the brilliance that was Anakin's presence in the Force.

Obi-Wan cautiously pressed deeper, only to be met with an impenetrable wall. 

What is it that you're so adamant in hiding? Obi-Wan thought, but decided not to press further. He wanted to regain Anakin's trust, and trying to pluck the secrets out of his mind was the worst possible way to go about it.

Gently, Obi-Wan disentangled their minds, and opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling for a short moment, until he no longer felt the absence of Anakin's Force presence as keenly. It was not a feeling Obi-Wan particularly enjoyed, and probably the biggest reason Obi-Wan has always refrained from delving into Anakin's mind unnecessarily.

"You were supposed to be resting," Obi-Wan said, still looking at the ceiling. "You are not resting."

"I am resting. I am not sleeping," Anakin said. Obi-Wan could practically feel the cheek. "There is a distinction.You should know. I've learned it from you, Master."

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose before rolling to his side so he could face Anakin. Dim illumination in the room cast shadows across Anakin's face, making his features seem almost ethereal, his eyes gleaming with a near preternatural light.

Obi-Wan swallowed, steering his wayward thoughts back into safer waters.

"I would suggest meditating but that would only make you irritable," Obi-Wan said. He hesitated a moment before offering, "I could put you to sleep."

Anakin's response was immediate. And unambiguous.

"No," Anakin said firmly, glaring at Obi-Wan. "You know I hate tampering with my mind."

Obi-Wan sighed. "As well as everyone in the Halls of Healing."

"You are worse patient than me," Anakin said, indignant. "Master Che had said so herself. Repeatedly."

"That has no bearing on our current problem."

"It's not a problem, I’m fine. But-" Anakin trailed off, glancing away, looking hesitant. 

"But?" Obi-Wan prompted.

"You know what has always helped me sleep," Anakin said quietly, almost shyly.

Obi-Wan frowned. "What are you- For Force's sake, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, exasperated. "You cannot be serious."

Anakin only shrugged, not meeting Obi-Wan's gaze.

"I will never understand why you are so eager to listen to me talking nonsense," Obi-Wan said, annoyed and offended in equal parts. "When you'd hardly ever paid attention to my lessons."

"I wonder what that says about your lessons, Master," Anakin said, lifting his gaze to meet Obi-Wan's.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, only to close it without saying a word. There was genuine mirth in Anakin's eyes, the Force around him calmer than Obi-Wan could recall seeing lately.

Fine.

"Fine," Obi-Wan said, resigned. "I will tell you a blasted story. What do you wish to hear?"

"How about a story about a Padawan having a crush on their Master?" Anakin said, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze unblinkingly. 

For a long, frozen moment, Obi-Wan could not summon a response; uncertain whether he should be scolding Anakin or admiring the sheer gall of him.

"What is your second request?" Obi-Wan asked instead.

Anakin grinned, and then shifted closer, leaving only a few inches of space between them. "Wedding."

Obi-Wan blinked. "Are you ever going to ask for a subject I am actually familiar with?"

Anakin hummed a noncommittal noise, reaching forward and tangling the fingers of his flesh hand with Obi-Wan's. "I am ready now, Master."

Obi-Wan knew, and knew it well, that he'd already allowed too much, crossed too many lines. That he needed to pull back - literally, at least, if not figuratively - and do so now. For both their sakes. Obi-Wan knew it.

And yet.

Obi-Wan did not move. Instead, he briefly squeezed Anakin's hand, and began talking.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan managed to make a single step inside his quarters before tripping over something that most definitely did not belong on the floor of his living room.

He muttered a low curse, then flicked his wrist, turning on the lights. As the light spilled across the room, erasing the shadows, Obi-Wan crouched to pick up the offending object.

"Your situational awareness is abysmal," a voice said, mimicking - badly, in Obi-Wan's opinion - Obi-Wan's accent. Then, after a moment of silence and stripped of the fake accent, it added, "I could have killed you five times by now. Maybe even six."

Something warm and bright sparked in Obi-Wan's chest upon hearing that familiar voice in person, and not distorted by static over countless miles of space between them.

Still in a crouch, with his head bowed, Obi-Wan allowed his eyes to flutter closed as a wave of pure, unadulterated relief swept over his senses after four long and exhausting months spent out in the field, fighting.

You are here. You are safe. I missed you.

Obi-Wan felt those words echo deep inside himself, as well as a warm, bright light pouring across the bond that tied him to Anakin.

Obi-Wan reached out, tentatively brushing against Anakin's mind, only to be enveloped in the blazing fire that was Anakin's force presence; protective, possessive, unyielding. 

After four months with no contact outside a few holocalls… it was almost too much. But it also felt like coming home. More so than the actual arrival at the Temple had been.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, then gently withdrew his presence from Anakin's mind. He felt Anakin's reluctance to let him go, an almost physical sensation of fingers wrapping tight around flesh, but it was gone in the next moment, leaving only an impression of deep and profound longing.

"Well, I suppose I am fortunate you mean not to kill me then," Obi-Wan said, straightening. He glanced down at the object in his hand, then at Anakin who was sitting on the ground, with his back resting against the sofa, and a half assembled cleaning droid next to him. "Although, your inherent lack of tidiness is a danger unto itself."

On his way to the kitchenette, Obi-Wan threw what he suspected was the part of the cleaning droid's chassis at Anakin. Anakin caught it out of the air, easily, grinning unrepentantly.

"You're a Jedi Master, Obi-Wan," Anakin said. "You really shouldn't be intimidated by a stray piece of metal."

"We have been fighting a war for over a year now," Obi-Wan remarked drily, opening a cupboard and pulling out the tea kettle that Anakin has been threatening to dispose of for years now  "I am quite accustomed to being shot at by things consisting largely of metal."

Obi-Wan couldn't see Anakin but he could feel the shift in the Force a mere moment before their bond was flooded with frustration and helpless anger. Anakin reigned himself in quickly, but the echo of his feelings remained, a heavy weight Obi-Wan himself has been carrying since the beginning of the war.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, flattening his palms against the counter and swallowing thickly. For all his fierce, blazing light, Anakin has always had shadows lingering deep inside his very core. The war… it certainly didn't help in dispersing them. And Obi-Wan could do nothing to shield Anakin.

Anakin was good. In fact, he was among the best on the field despite his years and - or, perhaps, because of it - his unorthodox methods. But the war was starting to weigh heavily on him, on all of them, and Obi-Wan couldn't even glimpse a possible end to it.

Not to mention Anakin was still refusing to share the entire story surrounding his mother's death. And Obi-Wan had no idea how to get him to talk. 

"Oh, come on," Anakin's voice drifted from the living room. "Don't tell me you're already getting tired of making scrap of Dooku's toys. Must be your old age."

Obi-Wan's mouth curled softly. "Every single one of my gray hairs was well earned," he said, reaching after a wooden box where he kept the tea. "By flying with you, in most cases. And I use the term flying loosely."

Anakin scoffed, his amusement resonating through their bond, even though he remained silent otherwise.

"Do you want tea?" Obi-Wan called, pulling a mug out of the cabinet. 

"You know I hate that stuff," Anakin answered, distaste clear in his voice. "I'll never understand your fascination with it. It has no taste whatsoever."

"Well, I'm not giving you caf," Obi-Wan said, placing the kettle on the stove. "Not at this hour. It would make you impossible to deal with."

There was a slight pause before Anakin asked, curious, "Do you even have caf?"

Obi-Wan frowned, then checked the cupboard. His triumphant smile at finding a half empty bag of caf, waned when he read the expiration date. It was probably left from the time Anakin was still sharing these quarters with him.

"You don't, do you?" Anakin said, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Obi-Wan closed the cupboard, then turned off the stove. "It depends on how adverse you are to a quick trip to the Halls of Healing afterwards," Obi-Wan remarked, pouring water over the bag of crushed sapir leaves.

Anakin snorted. "I think I'll pass this time."

"Why are you here?" Obi-Wan asked as he walked out of the kitchenette and over to the sofa, a mug of steaming hot tea in his hand. He hesitated a second before sitting down on the ground next to Anakin and placing the mug on the small table standing next to the sofa. A look of startled surprise passed along Anakin's features as he stared at Obi-Wan. "Don't you have your own quarters in which to sit in the dark?" 

Something warm - so very warm - fluttered across their bond even as Anakin's mouth curved into a grin. "You haven't changed your code."

"Of course I haven't," Obi-Wan said, not bothering to disguise the fondness in his voice. He reached for the mug and took a small sip of the tea, letting out a small, satisfied sigh at the familiar and comforting taste.

If anything, the past year has taught Obi-Wan the value of small comforts.

"Besides," Obi-Wan added, placing the mug back on the table. "If I were to change it, you would simply slice your way inside."

Anakin just shrugged, glancing aside. "I suppose we're never going to find out."

Obi-Wan's mouth quirked faintly. "No, I suppose we won't," Obi-Wan said, quietly. He glanced down at his hands, folded loosely on his lap. "Besides, I expect to be asked to move sooner rather than later."

Were it not for the war, Obi-Wan would have had to move as soon as Anakin had done so, considering he was occupying space meant for two. But there was war, and accommodations were low on the list of things Jedi had to concern themselves with.

There was war, and it meant more and more empty space in the Temple.

Obi-Wan could feel Anakin's gaze on him - sharp and inquisitive - but he didn't look up.

"Do you want to move?" Anakin asked after a moment of silence.

"Not particularly, no," Obi-Wan replied, brushing his thumb over the hilt of his lightsaber before unclipping it and placing it down on the table.

The Temple was home to all Jedi, including Obi-Wan, but these rooms felt his in a way no other place in the Temple did: full of memories, both good and bad.

"Then don't," Anakin said. He hesitated one moment, nervousness spiking in the air around him. "You'll need the room when you get a new Padawan."

Obi-Wan glanced aside at Anakin. He was fiddling idly with the cleaning droid, trying and failing at looking disinterested.

Oh, Anakin.

"In the future, perhaps, but not yet," Obi-Wan said, keeping his tone light. A fiercely pleased smile flickered across Anakin's mouth, which Obi-Wan pretended not having had seen. If Anakin was awful at hiding his… possessiveness, Obi-Wan could not deny his role in fostering it. However inadvertent it might have been. 

Because it wasn't Obi-Wan's conscious choice, but a feeling deep inside his very soul: Anakin was, and would remain his only Padawan.

Not that Anakin needed to know it.

Dragging his fingers through his hair, Obi-Wan steered their conversation back to less tumultuous waters. "You still haven't told me why you are here," Obi-Wan remarked. "And it cannot be just because you felt the need to disassemble my cleaning droid. Which I will need assembled again."

Anakin stopped fiddling with the droid, then shifted so he was facing Obi-Wan fully.

"I was waiting for you," Anakin said simply, his gaze settled on Obi-Wan's face."I heard you were arriving today."

Obi-Wan stopped himself from shifting nervously where he sat - Anakin's undivided attention could be... somewhat intense - and frowned. The Negotiator's arrival wasn't exactly a secret. But it wasn't public knowledge either. 

"From whom?"

"The Chancellor told me," Anakin replied. A beat later, a shadow crossed his features. "Because no one else would."

Obi-Wan felt irritation flare inside his chest, his hands curling into loose fists. "Perhaps there had been a reason for it," Obi-Wan remarked, a touch sharper than he intended.

Obi-Wan knew how much Anakin valued the Chancellor's friendship. Has known it since Anakin had been a young boy, still unused to his new circumstances, and his visits to the Chancellor had been a source of comfort Obi-Wan hadn't been able to deny him, despite his… unease concerning Palpatine's interest in Anakin.

Now, Anakin was no longer his Padawan, and no longer a boy. And, it seemed, he was closer to Palpatine than he's ever been. 

And Obi-Wan did not like it in the least. Even if - despite his strong dislike for the man, both personally and professionally - Obi-Wan could not actually fault him for anything concrete.

"Yeah," Anakin said, voice dripping with resentment. "It's called the High Council."

Obi-Wan swallowed a sigh. "I wish you would consider showing the same amount of trust and respect to the Council as you do the Chancellor."

Anakin's expression hardened instantly. "They have never trusted me ," Anakin bit out, shifting away from Obi-Wan. "Why should I trust them?"

Obi-Wan glanced down at his hands, still curled into loose fists, then at his mug of slowly cooling tea. He had been looking forward to not having to fight - either with words or a lightsaber - at least for a day.

Especially not this fight. He couldn't win this fight. He could only mend the cracks temporarily. And even that has become almost impossible after his appointment to the Council.

"They do trust you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, turning his head toward Anakin. Anakin kept his gaze stubbornly ahead. "They wouldn't have made you a Knight if they didn't."

"They trust me to fight for them, because we're at war, and I'm good at it. That's not trust, that's convenience."

Obi-Wan let out a huff of a breath. "Believe me, Anakin, the last thing you are is convenient."

Obi-Wan could see the corner of Anakin's mouth twitch faintly, the hard set of his shoulders loosening fractionally.

After a moment of deliberation, Obi-Wan reached out, clasping Anakin's shoulder. He could feel Anakin going tense, only to relax in the next moment, leaning further into Obi-Wan's touch.

"Just give them a chance, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "I know they recognize your talent and abilities. They would have to be blind not to."

Anakin sat still and unmoving for a beat, then he glanced aside at Obi-Wan. "And you? Are you going to give the Chancellor a chance?"

Obi-Wan sighed. He squeezed Anakin's shoulder, then pulled his hand away.

"I bear the Chancellor no ill will," Obi-Wan said, voice neutral. "In fact, I have spent the last month in the Mid Rim at his orders, doing my utmost to keep my men and myself alive pursuing General Grievous."

"But?" Anakin prompted, looking pointedly at Obi-Wan.

"He is a politician, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, dragging his fingers through his hair. "And his position seems to be solidifying with each day of this blasted war which doesn't seem to be leading anywhere."

Other than toward more senseless death. More destruction.

Obi-Wan rose to his feet, picking up his mug and striding over to the kitchenette, catching Anakin's look of startled surprise at his outburst as he passed by him.

Obi-Wan poured what was left of the tea and rinsed the mug under the spray of hot water, leaving it in the sink to wash later. He took his time, letting the mindless routine of his task calm the agitation that was still surging through his veins.

"Are you okay?" Anakin's voice - unusually careful and uncertain - drifted from the entrance to the kitchenette. 

Obi-Wan turned his head, meeting Anakin's concerned gaze from where Anakin stood, leaning against the wall. 

Well, Obi-Wan thought dryly, I am certainly providing a worthy example of resolve and serenity fitting for a Jedi Knight.

"I am fine, Anakin," Obi-Wan replied, forcing his mouth into a reassuring smile. He doubted it would be enough to placate Anakin. It never had before. "Perhaps just a bit tired."

Anakin frowned, regarding Obi-Wan intently. "This can't be just about Palpatine. You've never before had problems with him."

Obi-Wan pushed away from the sink, grimacing as he felt a low, pulsating ache in his temple. Considering his day - or an entire year - a headache was the least of his worries. Still. It was an inconvenience he could have done without.

"I don't have problems with the Chancellor," Obi-Wan replied curtly. Not strictly a lie, but very far from the actual truth. Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing at his temple. "I know the man is your friend, Anakin, but I truly have no desire to discuss him further."

Anakin gave him a half-suspicious and half-concerned look as he moved to the side, letting Obi-Wan pass by him on his way to the living room.

"He is trying, you know. He is doing his best to keep the Republic standing," Anakin remarked defiantly, turning and crossing his arms over his chest. "And not all politicians are bad."

"I am aware," Obi-Wan said wryly. He sat down on the sofa, giving Anakin a considering look. "How is Senator Amidala, by the way?"

Anakin blinked, looking genuinely confused. "Padmé? I haven't seen-" Anakin cut himself off, studying Obi-Wan intently, his expression flickering from disbelieving to frustrated, and settling on something that Obi-Wan couldn't name. "Are you still convinced Padmé and I are involved?"

Obi-Wan held Anakin's gaze steadily, despite the need to shift uncomfortably in his seat. This wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. But it was the first time Obi-Wan was… less than certain he was correct in his assumption concerning Anakin's feelings for the Senator.

"Are you?"

Anakin gave him an even look, his mouth flattening into a thin line. "Padmé is a close friend," Anakin said, voice sharp. "As I keep telling you. I'm starting to think you want me to sleep with her just to prove you right."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, only to close it again, undecided whether his lack of a proper response was due to how foolish he was starting to feel underneath Anakin's sharp gaze, or how much and how vehemently he did not want Anakin to sleep with Padmé.

The ensuing silence was thick with tension, and words seemingly stuck inside Obi-Wan's throat. 

Where are your words now, Negotiator? You are the one who started this. What are you afraid of?

A memory - long repressed but never forgotten - flashes before his mind's eye. A memory of tears and pain, of words that were in equal parts plea and demand. 

Words Obi-Wan could still hear echoing in the deepest recesses of his mind. And - infinitely more dangerous - his heart.  

When are you going to see me for who I am now?

"Well? Is that what you want?" Anakin snapped, throwing up his hands in frustration. "Say something."

Obi-Wan blinked, feeling as if waking from a dream, for once thankful for Anakin's temper.

"I am sorry," Obi-Wan said, voice steady and calm. "I didn't mean to offend either you or Senator Amidala."

Anakin blinked, clearly perplexed. "So you believe me now? Just like that?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes."

Anakin narrowed his eyes. "Why now? Why not a year ago? Or four months ago?"

Obi-Wan let out a deep breath. "Because trust is earned with trust," Obi-Wan said, catching Anakin's gaze and opening fully his end of the bond. "And I wish to have yours, Anakin." 

Anakin looked torn for a second; an almost pained expression twisting his features: fear and hope and indecision waging war on his side of the bond. 

And then… it stopped. 

Anakin's expression smoothed, his mouth curving into a smile. Were it not for the tightening of Anakin's shields around that forbidden spot inside his mind, Obi-Wan would have called it genuine. "You already have it, Master."

Obi-Wan breathed through the pang of disappointment, dismissing forcing the issue as soon as the thought occurred to him. Pushing Anakin would have resulted in nothing good. Most likely it would have incited an argument.

And Obi-Wan had no strength left to spare for an argument. Not today. Not with Anakin.

Especially with Anakin. Obi-Wan had… missed him. Deeply. Despite his efforts otherwise.

Leaning against the backrest, Obi-Wan fixed Anakin with a look that was as fond as it was exasperated. "One of these days you will remember there is no need to use that title anymore, Anakin."

Anakin just shrugged, wholly unconcerned. Then, he tilted his head to the side, regarding Obi-Wan carefully. "Now that we've settled the matter of my nonexistent affair with Padmé," Anakin said. "Are you finally going to tell me why you refused to believe me all those other times?"

Obi-Wan grimaced, uncomfortable, and feeling a bit silly. Now that he thought about it, there has never been concrete evidence backing Obi-Wan's claim. Just a deep belief, and: "I seem to recall a time when you could not stop speaking of her," Obi-Wan said, annoyed with how defensive he sounded. "What was it you called her? Ah, yes, an angel."

Anakin grinned. "That was years ago. I was just a kid then."

"A very determined kid."

Anakin's grin softened, turning into something gentle, almost wistful. Obi-Wan felt an uncomfortable tightening in his chest at the solemnity in Anakin's eyes.

"I think that in some other life I would have loved Padmé," Anakin said. Obi-Wan felt a slight shift in the Force: like a faint echo of some great turmoil. He shivered inadvertently. "But not in this one."

Obi-Wan made himself smile. "Anakin, there is no-"

"Besides," Anakin continued despite the interruption, looking meaningfully at Obi-Wan.  "Padmé wasn't the only one I mistook for an angel."

Obi-Wan remembered Anakin's words from years before. But what had been endearing to hear from a nine-year-old, was… something entirely different coming from a young man of nearly twenty-one. 

Especially if the young man in question was Anakin.

"Yes, well," Obi-Wan said, mortified at the touch of warmth rising to his cheeks. "I may not be an angel but I believe you will be content with my role as a messenger for the Council."

A crestfallen expression passed across Anakin's features before it was replaced by wariness. "Oh?" Anakin said, his gaze sharp. "Can't say I've much enjoyed Council's decisions as of late."

"You might appreciate this one," Obi-Wan said. "There are a few minor details that need settling, but the 212th and 501st are being deployed to Geonosis in two standard weeks."

Anakin blinked, a little furrow appearing on his forehead. "In two weeks," he repeated in a dull voice, glancing down, his fingers curling toward his palms.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, somewhat dismayed. "I thought you would show more enthusiasm about a joint deployment."

Anakin snapped his gaze up. "No, it's not-" Anakin trailed off, pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead. "Of course I'm glad it won't be another four months until I see you again. You have no idea how much-" Anakin cut himself off, the Force around him simmering with a myriad of emotions; each tangled with the other, impossible to separate.

"Come here, Anakin," Obi-Wan said after a moment, his voice low but firm.

"Yes, Master," Anakin replied without hesitation.

Obi-Wan watched, amused and fond, as Anakin shuffled forward obediently. He took a seat next to Obi-Wan, turning expectantly toward Obi-Wan.

Anakin would - and often he had, loudly and vehemently - fight with Obi-Wan over matters he'd deemed important. It didn't stop him from looking to Obi-Wan for guidance and comfort. Not that it happened often, especially since Anakin had been knighted. 

Anakin, for all that he sought Obi-Wan's presence, valued his independence fiercely.

"What is troubling you, Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked softly.

Anakin rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together loosely. "It- I know I shouldn't think like that but I can't stop."

Anakin bowed his head, frustration radiating off him in thick waves. 

"Like what?" Obi-Wan prompted, voice careful.

Anakin sighed. "It's Ahsoka." 

Obi-Wan stiffened immediately. "Has something happened?" 

Anakin lifted his head, a small smile forming in the corner of his mouth. "No, she is fine. She's with friends now. Safe." The smile faded from Anakin's mouth, his gloved hand tightening into a fist. "And I want her to stay safe."

Oh.

Obi-Wan felt his own mouth twist into a faint smile. "I cannot imagine you thinking Ahsoka is incapable of looking after herself."

"Of course not!" Anakin exclaimed fiercely. "Snips is far too good for anything Seps could possibly throw at her."

"Then what is the problem?"

"She shouldn't have to be good at it," Anakin gritted out, his shoulders tensing. "She shouldn't be made to lead a squadron of men against destroyers. Not at her age."

"Most certainly," Obi-Wan said. "Unfortunately, we cannot turn our backs on our duty to the Republic. Even if it means waging war."

Anakin let out a frustrated sound. "I know that. I just wish that I could spend more time teaching my Padawan without someone trying to kill us."

"Well," Obi-Wan said wryly. "You seem to remember your days as a Padawan quite differently than I do."

Anakin scoffed. "Pirates and mad scientists. Snips could take them with one hand tied behind her back."

"And you would still worry," Obi-Wan said. "Trust me, I am speaking from experience."

Anakin went still. "That is not the same," he said, his forehead drawing into a frown. "I am no longer your Padawan."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. "I am aware of it. Even without you constantly reminding me of that fact." Obi-Wan paused, fixing Anakin with a steady gaze. "My concern for your wellbeing did not stop when I cut your braid, Anakin."

Anakin opened his mouth, but Obi-Wan stopped him with a raised hand. "And neither will yours for Ahsoka." Reaching forward, Obi-Wan fitted his hand against Anakin's cheek. Anakin's eyes grew large with startled surprise. He was not the only one. Obi-Wan felt as if he was moving to someone else's commands. Someone uncaring of many different reasons why this form of comfort was… unwise. "Ahsoka is smart, resourceful and brave, and she will grow to become a true Jedi Knight. In no small part due to your teachings."

Anakin leaned further into Obi-Wan's touch, seemingly unaware of having done so. "Sometimes, it feels like all I've been teaching her is how to fight."

Obi-Wan made himself pull his hand away and fold it in his lap. It took considerable effort for such a simple task. But not as much as ignoring the flash of raw, naked longing in Anakin's eyes did.

"You are teaching her to survive. And you are doing a wonderful job."

"And you're not saying it just because all I know I learned from you, right?" Anakin said, his light tone in contrast with the almost painfully hopeful look in his eyes.

"I might not say it often, but I am very proud of you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, voice soft. "Of the Jedi and man you have become."

A flash of something Obi-Wan couldn't recognize darkened Anakin's gaze for one brief moment. But it was gone almost instantly, swallowed by the sheer joy that shone from Anakin's eyes.

"You really have missed me, haven't you?" Anakin said, grinning widely. 

Obi-Wan shrugged faintly, but couldn't suppress a smile from curving on his lips. "Well, you are handy in a fight."

"I saved your life seven-"

Obi-Wan sighed. "Six. I keep telling you Cato Neimoidia doesn't count."

Anakin merely gave him a pointed look. " Seven times. I'm more than just handy in a fight."

"You certainly are something," Obi-Wan remarked wryly. Then, after a moment of consideration, he added in a softer voice, "But yes, I have missed you. Force knows why."

Anakin flashed him a dazzling grin before glancing down. When he looked up a moment later, his expression was serious. It was void of anger, frustration and defiance, so often present on Anakin's face. It made Obi-Wan aware just how true his previous words were: Anakin was a man now, no longer a spirited boy, nor a youth with mercurial temperament. A man.

The knowledge shouldn't have made Obi-Wan aware of just how close Anakin was sitting, or how broad his shoulders have become in the last year, or how his hair seemed to be curling the longer it was. It most certainly shouldn't have made obvious Obi-Wan's inappropriate thoughts and desires.

Obi-Wan felt his throat close with the sudden surge of almost bewildered disbelief. Anakin has made himself a place within Obi-Wan's heart years ago. That was nothing new. But this. This was… wrong and couldn't be allowed to persist. 

It was fortunate Obi-Wan has had a long practice of ignoring his desires, well aware that some things were not for him to know and have. A day ago, even an hour ago, when he hadn't been aware of the change in his feelings for Anakin, he could have reached out and run his fingers through Anakin's hair, but not now. Not when that simple gesture was no longer simple. No longer innocent.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin said, startling Obi-Wan out of his reverie, making him instinctively tighten the shields around his most private thoughts. "I need you to tell me something." Anakin fixed Obi-Wan with a hard stare. "And I need the truth. Not some variation of it."

Obi-Wan nodded once, clamping down on the churning in his chest. He would deal with it later. Later, alone and in peace. 

"If it is in my power, I will tell you what you wish to know," Obi-Wan said, keeping his voice carefully even.

Anakin tightened his mouth briefly in frustration. "For someone who dislikes politicians, you'd make an excellent politician yourself," Anakin grumbled. 

"Unfortunate side effect of having dealt with so many of them, I'm afraid," Obi-Wan said simply.

Anakin snorted, then shook his head. "You just keep telling yourself that," Anakin said. Then, he took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. "About Ahsoka… Did you have anything with her being assigned as my Padawan?"

Obi-Wan blinked. "Oh." 

Anakin's expression drew into a frown, his eyes narrowing faintly. "You promised me the truth, Obi-Wan," Anakin reminded, voice sharp.

Obi-Wan held Anakin's gaze unflinchingly. "I do remember what I said."

"And?" Anakin said, impatience coloring his voice. 

"I had no direct involvement in it," Obi-Wan said. "But I was aware of Master Yoda's intentions."

"Why?" Anakin said, shifting until he was facing Obi-Wan fully.

Obi-Wan swallowed a sigh. "Because he had asked for my opinion." Obi-Wan paused, curling his hand into a loose fist to stop himself from rubbing tiredly at his face. This has truly been an exhausting day. Physically and, even more so, emotionally. 

"And what did you tell him?" Anakin asked in a clipped tone when it became obvious Obi-Wan had no intention of elaborating further.

"That you weren't ready for a Padawan," Obi-Wan said, watching with resignation as storm clouds gathered in Anakin's eyes.

Anakin's posture went rigid, his expression shifting into a thunderous expression. "You what?"

Obi-Wan decided not to remind Anakin how adamant he had been on not taking a Padawan, raising both hands in a mollifying gesture. 

"Obviously, I've been wrong," Obi-Wan admitted. Anakin blinked, visibly torn between outrage and bewilderment. Obi-Wan didn't want to give him time to recover. The last either of them needed was a shouting match. There were already too many secrets between them, mudding their bond. "It might sound that way, but my opinion had not been based on your ability to successfully train a Padawan, but rather on Yoda's poor timing."

Anakin crossed his arms, appearing mulish. "What does timing have to do with it?"

"You seem to forget I have some experience with stepping early into the role of a Master to a Padawan," Obi-Wan said. "I am intimately familiar with the… difficulties. And that had been without the war." Obi-Wan trailed off, his mouth forming a small, mirthless smile. "I wanted you to be spared of that burden. It is obvious I have been mistaken. You and Ahsoka are right for each other. In more ways than one."

Anakin regarded him silently, his posture relaxing incrementally. "I admit I hadn't been thrilled with being saddled with a Padawan. For maybe an hour." Anakin smiled, gentle and fond. "I wouldn't trade Snips for the galaxy. I know I didn't choose Ahsoka myself, but I know she was always meant to be my Padawan."

Obi-Wan nodded. "That is also what I sense in the Force whenever I see you together."

Anakin ducked his head briefly, his expression losing the last traces of his previous hostility. "Obi-Wan," Anakin said after a moment, his eyes blazing with unwavering conviction. "No matter the difficulties we've had, I also know you were supposed to be my Master. You , not anyone else."

Sometimes, Obi-Wan felt the same certainty, but sometimes, he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened had Qui-Gon lived. 

Would Obi-Wan still have become Anakin's Master? 

Obi-Wan… doubted it. Qui-Gon had been adamant in his desire to take on Anakin as his Padawan, and Obi-Wan would have never chosen a Padawan quite as... unique as Anakin.

An involuntary shiver slithered down Obi-Wan's spine. Even with the possibility of Qui-Gon alive and well, Obi-Wan did not want to contemplate a life without Anakin in it.

"Whether such is the case or not," Obi-Wan said in a quiet but firm voice. "I am thankful that I had the honor of teaching you, Anakin."

Anakin's joy was a near palpable thing: warm and bright. For a splinter of a moment, Obi-Wan was certain Anakin would hug him, but all Anakin did was clasp Obi-Wan's right hand between both of his. 

"I know I don't say it often, but I am grateful for all you've done for me," Anakin said, voice solemn. 

Obi-Wan smiled, a strained, tense smile, viscerally aware of the warmth of Anakin's touch, of the soft, featherlike brush of Anakin's thumb along the inside of Obi-Wan's wrist.

By some miracle, Obi-Wan kept his heartbeat steady, caught between two equally strong impulses, neither of which seemed even remotely prudent: to pull his hand away or to return Anakin's caress.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "If you would show it by refraining from giving me more grey hairs, I would appreciate it immensely," Obi-Wan said, somehow managing to keep his voice light and teasing.

Anakin let go of Obi-Wan's hand, but the momentary relief turned to shocked stillness when Anakin stroked his knuckles along the hair on Obi-Wan's temple. 

"It suits you," Anakin said, voice low. His gaze flicked briefly to Obi-Wan's mouth. Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath as the air between them grew heated, the space separating them feeling too small and far too big at the same time. 

The moment stretched on, thick with tension of dozens of unspoken words and wants, until Obi-Wan finally managed to will himself under control and pull away.

"I would still appreciate not to grow old before my time," Obi-Wan said.

A flicker of disappointment appeared in Anakin's gaze. He lowered his hand, and glanced down briefly. When he looked up, there was no trace of disappointment or longing on his face.

"So," Anakin said, his voice not as light as he was obviously trying to make it. "Yoda didn't listen to you."

Obi-Wan let out a deep breath, relief almost making him feel lightheaded. He felt as if he'd stepped back from the edge of an abyss. "You shouldn't be so surprised," Obi-Wan said. "Master Yoda rarely changes his mind once he has decided on a course of action."

Anakin raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "And here I thought you had the Council wrapped around your finger."

"As I've told you before," Obi-Wan remarked wryly. "You severely overestimate my influence. I am, after all, the most junior member on the Council."

Anakin waved dismissively. "Fine, you don't have the Council hanging on your every word," Anakin said impatiently, reminding Obi-Wan that, despite how essential Anakin has become to him, most of Obi-Wan's headaches have been directly his fault. 

Anakin titled his head, regarding Obi-Wan silently. Obi-Wan did not like the glint of mischief in Anakin's eyes. "I think I have decided how you should make up for your lack of faith in my teaching abilities," Anakin said.

"I already explained- Anakin! " Obi-Wan exclaimed, startled, when he suddenly found himself with his back against the sofa's armrest and Anakin sprawled along its length, his head resting on Obi-Wan's lap. 

Obi-Wan took a deep, steadying breath, glaring down at Anakin's grinning face. "Care to explain yourself?" Obi-Wan asked, annoyance seeping into his voice despite his efforts. 

"I already told you," Anakin said, looking wholly unperturbed by Obi-Wan's glare and rigid posture. "This is your atonement."

"My atonement?" Obi-Wan repeated, incredulous. He frowned at Anakin, shifting carefully in his seat as not to dislodge Anakin. "I am to be your personal pillow?"

Anakin's grin widened further. "That's just part of it," Anakin said, giving Obi-Wan a meaningful look. "You know what the rest is."

Obi-Wan blinked, perplexed. "I honestly have no idea what you are talking about," Obi-Wan said. 

Anakin simply threaded the fingers of his flesh hand with Obi-Wan's, and smiled up at Obi-Wan expectantly. "I'm ready now, Master."

Obi-Wan let out a sound of disbelief at the familiar phrase, understanding dawning over him. "Anakin, please tell me you are joking," Obi-Wan said. "You cannot possibly find enjoyment in this anymore."

Anakin smiled beatifically at him. "You are far too modest, Master. I find your stories entertaining no matter the years."

"You are usually asleep fifteen minutes after I begin telling you a story," Obi-Wan pointed out. "You have never once heard the ending of any of the stories I have told you."

"That was usually the point," Anakin said. 

Obi-Wan blinked, suddenly worried. "Are you having trouble sleeping, Anakin?"

Anakin's smile faltered briefly. "Not worse than usual," Anakin said, his grip on Obi-Wan's hand tightening a fraction. He glanced aside, hesitating a moment before he added in a softer voice, "I missed this. I thought about it when I couldn't sleep. It helped."

Obi-Wan's throat felt tight all of a sudden. He squeezed Anakin's hand instinctively. "Well, I suppose I do owe you," Obi-Wan remarked lightly, despite the ache that echoed hollowly inside his chest. "If nothing else, it will cost me less than a dinner at Dex's."

Anakin hummed a noncommittal sound, shifting to get more comfortable.

"I suppose this is the part where I ask what story you would like this time," Obi-Wan said, arching an eyebrow. "And you choose something I am nowhere near qualified to spin tales about."

"Love," Anakin said without missing a beat. "I want a story about love."

Obi-Wan blinked, startled. He could feel a surge of incredulous laughter building inside his throat but he swallowed it down. Trust Anakin to pick the worst possible subject at the worst possible time.

"You want a love story," Obi-Wan said in an even voice. "I suppose you wouldn't be interested in something of practical relevance? I have recently read an interesting-"

"No war strategies dating back to the days of the Old Republic. I've had just about enough of our war to listen to you praising the ingenuity of some long dead Jedi," Anakin grumbled. He pulled at their joint hands until they were resting on his chest, almost directly over his heart. 

"And you can't say you know nothing about love. Everyone does." Anakin's words were light, almost teasing, but the look in his eyes was anything but: Obi-Wan wanted to look away, but he found himself helplessly ensnared by their intensity. "Even perfect Jedi."

Obi-Wan smiled ruefully. Anakin was entirely wrong on one account. At the moment, Obi-Wan did not feel like a particularly good Jedi, let alone a perfect one.

As for the other…

"Yes well," Obi-Wan said, finally managing to tear his gaze from the single-minded focus in Anakin's eyes. Even if the sight of their joint hands was only slightly safer to look at. "I suppose you are right."

But that is not a story I can share with you.

"A story and another praise?" Anakin teased. "I am starting to think you should have visited the Halls of Healing before coming here."

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a pointed look. "Keep that up, Anakin, and the ending might not be to your taste," Obi-Wan warned.

A few years ago, Anakin would have pouted at those words. Now, he frowned.

"There is only one possible ending to a love story," Anakin said, voice resolute. "A happy one."

Obi-Wan felt his mouth curve into a faint smile. He could have easily come up with at least a dozen reasons why Anakin's claim was highly optimistic at best, and delusional at worst. 

Ironically, the one reason Obi-Wan was intimately familiar with, the one currently twisting his insides into tight knots, was also the reason why he had chosen not to contradict Anakin.

Yielding to a persistent, unrelenting impulse, Obi-Wan reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from Anakin's forehead.

"You are right, of course," Obi-Wan said - lied - softly. "It wouldn't be much of a love story without a happy ending, would it?"

Anakin's answering smile felt like a sharp blade cutting at his heart. Obi-Wan breathed through the pain, and began telling the story.

A made up one. A happy one.

Chapter Text

It wasn't difficult to locate Anakin.

He was sitting on the ground, leaning against a large rock formation, his elbows resting on his knees and his eyes closed, the last rays of the setting sun crowning his head with a fiery halo.

Even if Anakin had drifted farther from their camp, Obi-Wan would have found him easily. Considering the distress and agitation Anakin was radiating in the Force, Obi-Wan could have found him deaf and blind.

Even from the camp, Anakin's unchecked emotions were battering against Obi-Wan's shields: wild and relentless. It only became worse the closer Obi-Wan got to him; the bleedover from their bond - no matter how closed off it had become in the last few months - manifesting as a dull throb against his skull.

Anakin's raw power has always been a source of wonder and unease for Obi-Wan. He was aware that Anakin was nowhere near to having harnessed his full potential, and already, despite his age, he was one of the most powerful Knights in the Order.

But power without control spelled chaos and destruction, and control has never been Anakin's strong suit. No matter how hard he had tried, Obi-Wan had never quite managed to teach it to Anakin. 

It used to worry Obi-Wan. Greatly. Lately though, Obi-Wan has come to dread Anakin's dark moods and the anger that seemed to constantly simmer just underneath the surface of Anakin's skin.

Obi-Wan feared for Anakin. Feared where anger, frustration and resentment could lead him. Selfishly, what he feared even more was losing him. 

And he was losing him. Each day, as certain as sunrise, the gulf between them grew larger, and Obi-Wan felt helpless to prevent it from happening.

Secrets and lies and betrayal have marred what had once been a brilliant thread of pure light. 

Secrets, lies and betrayal on both sides of their bond.

Swallowing against the sudden dryness of his throat, Obi-Wan stopped at the edge of the clearing where Anakin sat, wondering how they have come to this.

How have they come so close to pulling at the root something that has always been so precious to both of them?

"You know," Obi-Wan remarked, not quite successful in his attempt at sounding nonchalant. "Were we at the Temple, half of those present would be nursing a headache, and half would be knocking at your door none too gently."

Obi-Wan could see Anakin's mouth curve into a bitter smile just as he felt Anakin's shields tighten further, cutting off the constant flow of anger-frustration-helplessness.

"I wonder which group you would have fallen into," Anakin said without opening his eyes.

Obi-Wan pressed his mouth into a tight line. He should have known Anakin would not make this easy. But he had hoped.

"Hopefully I would have been in the room with you," Obi-Wan said flatly. "Helping you with whatever had made you forget one of the first lessons I have ever taught you."

Anakin's eyes snapped open. Even in the waning light, Obi-Wan could clearly see startled surprise and something vulnerable reflecting from their depths. 

It lasted no more than a heartbeat. Then Anakin's gaze grew shuttered.

"I am not your Padawan anymore, Obi-Wan," Anakin said, voice sharp. "You are not obligated to clean up my messes. Metaphorical or otherwise."

Obi-Wan refused to give into frustration that was slowly building inside him. If they were to fix their increasingly strained relationship, one of them had to exercise patience and restraint, and Force knew that would not be Anakin.

Obi-Wan dragged his fingers through his hair, barely managing to suppress a wince when a bright flare of pain shot up from his left side.

Now, with the battle over and the adrenaline no longer fueling him, Obi-Wan was beginning to reconsider the wisdom of evading his battalion's medic. 

Well. That would have to wait. Heavy bruising and possibly a cracked rib were hardly the worst injuries Obi-Wan has sustained during the course of this wretched war. 

"I am well aware of it, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, a hint of weariness seeping into his voice despite himself. "That doesn't mean I cannot be your friend. Or worry about you."

"Friends," Anakin said, not bothering to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Is that what we are?"

"Of course we are," Obi-Wan said without hesitation. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the entire truth either. Not when there was a part of Obi-Wan - buried deep and carefully restrained - that wanted that which he shouldn't. "At least on my part." Obi-Wan paused, giving Anakin a pointed look. "Maybe that is a question I should be asking you."

Something fierce flashed in Anakin's eyes. Obi-Wan did not manage to recognize what it was before Anakin glanced away, drawing his right knee to his chest.

"I don't know what we are anymore," Anakin said. There was no heat or bite to his words, just deep and heavy weariness. "I haven't known it for a while now."

Obi-Wan swallowed a sigh. Anakin didn't say it out loud, but Obi-Wan could hear the accusation as loud and clear as if Anakin had screamed it: not since Obi-Wan had faked his death.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan walked over to where Anakin was sitting. He gingerly sat down next to Anakin, clenching his teeth tightly so as not to let a hiss of pain when another stab of searing pain blazed along his nerve endings.

Definitely a cracked rib , Obi-Wan thought wryly before focusing his attention on Anakin.

Were this another time - happier and simpler - Anakin would not have wasted the opportunity to sidle up to Obi-Wan, and knock their shoulders together. Sometimes, Anakin would have leaned his head against Obi-Wan's shoulder. Most often, though, he would have merely closed the distance between them, content with having irrefutable proof of warmth and life.

Obi-Wan understood that impulse. There could be no greater comfort in times of war, death and destruction than the simple physical touch of those most dear to you. 

A comfort Obi-Wan has been denying himself ever since he had accepted the truth of his feelings for Anakin. Despite how deeply buried and closely guarded Obi-Wan has been keeping his feelings.

But Anakin had kept seeking it - from a fleeting brush of fingers to sharing a cot on less hospitable planets - and Obi-Wan had not been able to find it in himself to deny him; not even once. Not even if it had gone against Obi-Wan's better judgement.

Until the moment Obi-Wan had been forced to choose between his feelings and duty, and had chosen duty. 

It had been the right choice - the only choice a Jedi could have made - but the price was steep: Anakin's withdrawal from their bond, and a strain in their relationship that only seemed to increase with each passing day.

Perhaps it was fitting, considering how deeply Obi-Wan's choice had hurt Anakin. Obi-Wan might have made his choice without the intention to hurt, but he had been perfectly aware that would have been the case nonetheless.

If for no other reason than having known how it would have affected him , were he faced with Anakin's lifeless body. Even as a possibility, it was something Obi-Wan had no desire to contemplate. Let alone live through it.

Maybe Anakin had been right. Maybe he was a hypocrite and a liar for subjecting Anakin - who has always had trouble accepting the loss of those he held close to his heart - to something Obi-Wan himself dreaded.

And the worst thing? Obi-Wan could not claim he would have made a different choice if he had to do it all over again.

"You know," Obi-Wan said, forcing his thoughts away from those dark paths to the here and now. The present was grim enough on its own, without Obi-Wan contemplating his past and future failures. "If you wanted to be uncomfortable, you could have remained in the camp, on one of our cots. You know this area is still considered enemy territory, despite our recent success."

Anakin snorted, throwing Obi-Wan a sideways glance. "Success? Is that what we're calling it?" Anakin said, resentment and barely leashed fury giving his voice a dark note. "There's no sign that Dooku had even been here, and we've been fighting and losing men an entire week on this useless rock, and for what? A few chromium mines?"

Anakin let out a frustrated noise. He grabbed a small piece of rock, lying in the dirt next to him, throwing it in the general direction of the closest mine they have managed to… liberate from the Separatists.

"Druk," Anakin bit out, venomous. "That's what this whole kriffing assignment has been from the start."

Obi-Wan frowned, glancing in the direction Anakin had thrown the rock. A feeling of unease coiled in his stomach; a shapeless dread that was gone almost instantly.

"I admit it does seem difficult to see the value of having this planet under Republic control," Obi-Wan said, carefully choosing his words. 

Obi-Wan could understand Anakin's frustration, considering how endless this war appeared at times. The Republic would disrupt Separatists' hyperlanes, then a few months later the Separatists' forces would do the same with Republic ones. Or the Separatists would destroy Republic's shipyards, and GAR would destroy droid factories. 

And so it went. As if some unseen force seemed intent on keeping a balance in this war, not allowing either side to gain a significant advantage.

"That's because there isn't one," Anakin snapped, turning to face Obi-Wan fully. Obi-Wan blinked at the sight of a fresh bruise blooming across Anakin's left cheek. He almost reached out, following a half-formed thought of fingers stroking along purpling skin, but managed to stop himself at the last moment. "This is an uninhabited planet with no value whatsoever except those kriffing mines. We should have just bombed it and been done with it. No chromium for anyone." Anakin paused, clenching his gloved hand into a tight fist. "This way, with our luck, in three or four months the Separatists will be back with bigger forces, and we'll go through this pointless druk all over again."

It was difficult not to agree with Anakin's sentiment, if not with his proposed method.

"Anakin, we cannot just go destroying planets, even uninhabited ones," Obi-Wan said, voice calm. "The moment we begin compromising our ideals, is the moment we lose the war, no matter the outcome."

Anakin's lips curled over his teeth as he pushed himself to his feet. "No, it's much better to risk the lives of our men for a few half-depleted mines," Anakin sneered, pacing like an agitated nexu. "Because an ideal is worth more than actual lives." He paused in his pacing to glare at Obi-Wan. "With that attitude, no wonder you're on the Council."

Obi-Wan was used to Anakin's long-standing disagreement with the High Council. He was used to his complaints and - to a lesser degree - accusations. As if that first time standing before the Council and having been judged unfit to be a Jedi had determined the way Anakin would regard the Council in the future: with mistrust and defiance.

Despite being on the Council, Obi-Wan wasn't used to having Anakin's vitriol and resentment being directed solely at him. 

That was no longer the case. Not since the Hardeen mission. And especially not since Ahsoka's leaving the Order.

Obi-Wan stood up, careful not to aggravate his injured side. Fortunately, Anakin did not notice the cautious way Obi-Wan moved. Even as angry as he was at Obi-Wan at the moment, Obi-Wan knew Anakin wouldn't leave him at peace or listen to anything Obi-Wan had to say until Obi-Wan visited the medic. 

And Obi-Wan would. As soon as he made some progress in mending what was broken between them.

"No one on the Council, myself included, is indifferent to the loss of life. Any life. Let alone the loss of men who are fighting alongside us," Obi-Wan said firmly, following Anakin's restless pacing with his gaze until, abruptly, Anakin halted in his tracks; his back turned and shoulders set in a tense line. 

Cautiously, Obi-Wan reached toward Anakin; just a small, tentative brush against Anakin's mind. It was met with durasteel shields: unyielding and unwelcoming. 

Sighing inwardly, Obi-Wan withdrew. He could see the irony in becoming so reliant on their bond when, initially, he had feared and distrusted its unusual strength. That didn't mean he appreciated it, though. 

"Despite your disagreements with the Council's methods, I would have hoped that, by now, you knew each member of the Council better than to think so poorly of any of us," Obi-Wan said, carefully keeping any hint of hurt out of his voice. Perhaps it was a matter of pride. Or perhaps Obi-Wan was not prepared to face Anakin's dismissal of it. As if being on the Council meant turning into emotionless automatons, void of compassion and empathy.

Anakin turned slowly. His face was set into a scowl, and the look in his eyes was thunderous. Whatever sliver of hope Obi-Wan might have had about keeping this already strained conversation from dissolving into an outright argument died when Anakin made a step forward, pointing an accusing finger at Obi-Wan.

"Maybe I would have a better opinion of the Council if they actually did something to earn it," Anakin bit out. Obi-Wan found no comfort in Anakin's chosen pronoun. Not with the way he kept glaring at Obi-Wan. "Something that isn't throwing an innocent Padawan to the wolves."

Obi-Wan took a long breath, suppressing a wince. He's been expecting this... confrontation ever since that horrible day. Could feel the anger and the resentment slip through the tiny fractures in Anakin's shields. But knowing it was inevitable, has done little to prepare Obi-Wan for the near palpable animosity coming off of Anakin.

It… hurt. In a deep, visceral way that made it impossible to simply let go of the feeling. It was interwoven with his feelings - his love - for Anakin, and to let go of that, Obi-Wan would have had to claw his heart out.

But Obi-Wan could live with it, mold it into something bearable, and carry on. 

"You are right, " Obi-Wan said, voice quiet. Anakin blinked, clearly taken aback. Obi-Wan wondered what was Anakin expecting: denial perhaps, or appeasement. It would certainly suit his current uncharitable opinion of Obi-Wan. However expected, it still stung. "The Order has failed Ahsoka in the worst possible way. And I cannot express how much I regret it."

Anakin let out a sharp bark of laughter. "That's it? You cannot express how much you regret... what exactly? Siding with the Council? Not saying a kriffing thing? Not lifting a finger while Ahsoka stood trial? Leaving her to die for the good of the Order?" Anakin strode forward until he stood within arm's reach of Obi-Wan, his eyes blazing. "Tell me, Obi-Wan, what do you regret?"

"You are not being fair, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, refusing to cower before Anakin's anger. "Ahsoka might not have been my Padawan, but I watched her grow into an exceptional Jedi under your tutelage." Obi-Wan paused, breathing past the ache in his chest at the memory of watching Anakin and Ahsoka together. They have been a good match. Not many would have been able to keep pace with Anakin, but Ahsoka had managed it effortlessly. 

"I'm not interested in being fair," Anakin said in a flat voice, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm interested in knowing how you could have just stood there, dismissing Ahsoka as if she valued nothing."

"That is not true," Obi-Wan protested. He could feel helpless frustration building inside his chest, seeking an outlet. Obi-Wan pushed it down, seeking calm that kept evading his grasp. "I cared for Ahsoka. I will miss her."

Anakin snorted. "It's funny how you can claim to care about someone but when it comes to choosing between that person and the Jedi, you will always choose the Jedi."

Obi-Wan stared at Anakin, bewildered. Had Anakin truly drawn a line between himself and the rest of the Order, including Obi-Wan? Had Obi-Wan truly failed Anakin to such an extent as a teacher?

"Anakin, I am a Jedi," Obi-Wan said, spreading his arms. He was in no small amount surprised at the steadiness of his voice. "It is not a matter of choice, it simply is. I thought you understood that." Obi-Wan regarded Anakin carefully, his throat bone dry. "Or do you not consider yourself a Jedi anymore?"

Anakin straightened fully, lowering his hands by his sides. He looked defiant, unyielding. "I can be a Jedi and still feel something other than a blind devotion to an ancient set of rules."

"And you think the other Jedi are incapable of it?" Obi-Wan asked in a quiet voice. There was a weight pressing against his chest, becoming heavier with each passing moment. "That I am incapable of it?"

A small crack appeared in Anakin's stony façade, but it was gone before Obi-Wan could make out the shape of an emotion flickering across Anakin's face.

"I used to think differently," Anakin said after a moment of silence. "I don't know anymore."

Anakin turned his head to the side, giving Obi-Wan a perfect view of his clenched jaw. The setting sun outlined Anakin's profile with an orange glow, catching in his hair and lashes, giving his features an ethereal, almost otherworldly quality. An old, fond memory resurfaced from the back of Obi-Wan's mind, the current gulf between Anakin and himself giving it a bittersweet tinge. Was this how Anakin had seen Obi-Wan all those years ago? Like someone beautiful and wild, but entirely unreachable?

Obi-Wan allowed his eyes to close. When he opened them a heartbeat later, the illusion was gone, and Anakin no longer seemed to be anything but himself: a young man, contrary and volatile, but also bright and kind and good, and someone who has held a large piece of Obi-Wan's heart ever since he had entered Obi-Wan's life, thanks to fate, chance, or Qui-Gon Jinn following the whims of the living Force.

Obi-Wan was a Jedi as he had told Anakin, but he was far from being the kind of Jedi Anakin believed him to be.

The kind Anakin accused him of being. A distinction that made all the difference in the galaxy, turning barely a step of space between them into a yawning abyss.

Obi-Wan was determined to cross it. Somehow. He would not accept defeat. Could not.

"Is this-" Obi-Wan indicated the space between them "-truly what you wish for our future, Anakin? The two of us barely on speaking terms?"

Anakin whipped his head in Obi-Wan's direction, his gaze narrowing. "Don't try to turn this around on me, Obi-Wan," he snapped. "I'm not the one responsible for this. You've made pretty clear where your loyalties lie."

Obi-Wan let out a heavy breath, grasping at calm that seemed to be edging toward frustration. "What you are demanding is personal loyalty. Admirable as it is, a Jedi cannot afford to place it above duty," Obi-Wan stated calmly. "Especially not in times of war. You know this. Or you should, considering I was the one to teach it to you."

Anakin regarded Obi-Wan silently, his stillness - both physically and in the Force - defying everything Obi-Wan knew of him. Anakin was a creature of action and motion, being still was anathema to him. 

"I suppose there is nothing to be said then," Anakin said after another long moment, a note of finality clinging to his words. "You have made yourself perfectly clear."

"Nothing?" Obi-Wan repeated in a low voice, holding Anakin's gaze unblinkingly. "I see I have failed you as a teacher, Anakin, but I would hardly write off the last twelve years as nothing. Would you?"

"Stop portraying this as my doing," Anakin bit out, gesturing wildly. "You are at fault here, not me."

Obi-Wan sighed. "I am also the one who sought you out, Anakin. Because I would like to talk to you. Calmly and openly. Are you prepared to listen? Without prejudice?"

For one terrifying moment, Obi-Wan was certain Anakin would decline, turn around and walk away. He could see him considering it, see the struggle in every line of Anakin's face. 

In that moment, Obi-Wan's control slipped; dread completely obliterating any semblance of calm and serenity. He could feel his heart beating unevenly against his breastbone, hear the deafening rush of blood in his ears, taste the ash at the back of his throat.

Obi-Wan couldn't remember ever feeling like this. Not even when he had dangled over an abyss, staring up at Maul's sneering face. He could do nothing more. He had made an offer, and it was up to Anakin to accept or decline.

And whatever Anakin decided, Obi-Wan would… not dispute. Broken trust could not be gained back by force. 

"Fine," Anakin said. The weight of fear that was pressing against Obi-Wan's sternum eased momentarily, and Obi-Wan felt as if he could finally breathe again. "If you want to talk, I'll listen. But I'm not promising anything."

The relief that swept over him almost made Obi-Wan giddy, despite how defiant and prickly Anakin still appeared. How reluctant his acceptance was. 

If they are to cut the bonds that tied them together, at least now Obi-Wan had a chance to make it a clean cut, free of the lies, secrets and resentment that have soured their relationship, turning the bond between them from a golden, shining thread into something cold and dark.

Only one secret Obi-Wan had no intention of sharing with Anakin; deepest and most intimate one. The one Obi-Wan fully suspected would be a faithful companion until his last breath. The one that was his, and his alone.

After walking over to the rock formation, Obi-Wan found a somewhat comfortable place to sit, wide enough for two. He sat down, throwing a glance at Anakin who was still standing on the same spot: a still figure half in the shadows and half in the light.

"Anakin, won't you come over?" Obi-Wan said, indicating the space next to himself. "It's not much, but it is better than standing."

When Anakin hesitated, Obi-Wan swallowed an exasperated sigh. They have been fighting without a proper rest for the last four days, Anakin especially, pushing himself as if physical restrictions did not affect him. It was…. worrying, to say the least. Anakin has never shown much personal concern when engaging in battle, but lately he's become downright reckless. As if he's gotten it into his head to single handedly win the war, one battle at a time.

"Do it as a personal favor to your old Master," Obi-Wan said, voice carefully light. "So I can pretend I am not the only one in need of rest."

A flicker or concern escaped through Anakin's shields, seeping into his expression as he strode forward, his gaze set on Obi-Wan with equal amount of worry and suspicion.

"Are you willingly admitting you need rest?" Anakin's voice was an echo of simpler times: light and teasing. It did not diminish the concern creasing his forehead. "Maybe we should have Kix examine you just to be safe. That last blast threw you pretty far. Into a wall."

Obi-Wan's mouth flattened briefly. Anakin wasn't exaggerating. A moment of carelessness, and he had been caught in a blast. Obi-Wan suspected it was when he'd cracked his rib. 

"There is no need." Obi-Wan waved away Anakin' suggestion. He glanced at the spot next to himself pointedly. "Besides, I have more pressing matters to settle."

For a second, Anakin looked as if he would be difficult about it. His eyes swept over Obi-Wan, no doubt searching for injuries. "Are you sure? We could always talk later," Anakin offered, looking uncertain. As if he wanted to keep the distance between them, and wanted to close it at the same time.

A shadow of a smile turned up the corner of Obi-Wan's mouth. "Later is a dangerous concept in a war, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "Besides, we have already waited long enough to have this conversation."

Anakin straightened, his expression hardening once again. "I don't understand why today is any different from any other day," Anakin said as he sat down, careful not to brush against Obi-Wan. "Why you're so insistent on-" Anakin's mouth curled bitterly as he made a sharp, frustrated gesture with his gloved hand, "-talking."

Obi-Wan could have chosen any number of reasons - all true, all relevant - but in the end, he settled for the most important one, "I missed you, Anakin."

Anakin's stony facade splintered, something raw and vulnerable sleeping through the cracks. He looked away for a moment, his throat working as he swallowed thickly.

"That's stupid," Anakin said, his voice terse, but his expression no longer resembled that of a statue: cold and hard and distant. "You see me every day."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Perhaps. That doesn't make my answer any less true." Obi-Wan paused, glancing briefly at Anakin from the corner of his eyes.

Anakin remained silent, and Obi-Wan suddenly felt reluctant to break the ensuing silence. He allowed the silence to grow, recalling a similar moment from years past. 

The planet they had landed on on their way back to Coruscant from Dantooine had also - save the local flora and fauna - been uninhabited. Anakin had spent most of those three days doing repairs on the freighter they had… appropriated when their mission had gone south and they had had to leave the planet immediately. Obi-Wan had spent those days exploring the local wildlife, listening to Anakin's complaints about shoddy mechanical work, and meditating.

Despite their failed mission, Obi-Wan recalled those three days with nothing but fondness. Especially the last evening. 

In truth, nothing remarkable had happened that evening; just the two of them sitting together, their shoulders touching as they shared a meal, watching the sun as it had set on the horizon. What made that moment stand out in Obi-Wan's memory had been the deep sense of peace, safety and belonging enveloping them together. The kind Obi-Wan had only ever felt while in the Temple.

It was a dangerous thing, to make a person your home. Especially for a Jedi.

"When you became my Padawan," Obi-Wan began in a quiet voice, his eyes set on the orange glow painting the far horizon. "I had not been ready for that kind of responsibility."

A sharp intake of breath was Anakin's only response, whatever he might have felt about Obi-Wan's admission stayed hidden behind his shields.

Obi-Wan remained silent for a beat, the memories of those chaotic first weeks filling his mind with a messy tangle of guilt, regret and sorrow, and Anakin's bright, vibrant presence.

He hadn't been aware of it back then - not consciously, not with lingering resentment maring his perception - but Anakin had been a sole grounding point in Obi-Wan's life when nothing seemed fixed and stable.

"I feared I would fail you." A semblance of a smile flickered across Obi-Wan's mouth as he turned to look at Anakin. "And ultimately, I did fail you."

Anakin frowned, the Force shifting around him as his shields slowly began to crack. "You weren't a bad teacher. You have taught me everything I know," Anakin said, somehow managing to convey nervous restlessness even while sitting perfectly still. He glanced down, the crease on his forehead deepening as the reluctant admission left his mouth, "I never wanted any other Master. I- I still don't."

"That doesn't change the fact I have never managed to make you see the Temple as your home," Obi-Wan stated, voice firm despite the ache that was lodged firmly in the hollow of his chest. "Or to let go of things that are beyond your control."

Anakin's smile was a twisted parody of his usual bright smile. "So I'm a lousy Jedi," Anakin remarked curtly, standing up. He took two steps forward before he stopped, throwing a brief glance at Obi-Wan over his shoulders. "You're hardly the first to tell me that."

Obi-Wan sighed. Dealing with Anakin has always been a challenge for varying reasons, but never before has Obi-Wan felt as helpless as now. When a single step forward was immediately followed by two steps back. It was beyond frustrating. Like trying to navigate an ever changing maze.

Obi-Wan stood up, ignoring the resulting twinge of pain. If nothing else, this blasted war - even more than his tumultuous apprenticeship with Qui-Gon, more than the hard earned discipline and self-control of a Jedi Master - has taught him how to function adequately despite physical pain and discomfort.

Obi-Wan approached Anakin slowly, regarding his tense posture warily. For a single moment, Obi-Wan felt almost overcome with a near visceral need to reach out, and soothe the tension from Anakin's shoulders with his touch.

Curling his hand into a loose fist, Obi-Wan expelled a shaky breath. Perhaps he had miscalculated when he'd followed Anakin, seeking to mend their crumbling friendship. This was hardly the ideal location for this particular conversation - out in the open, with the possibility of straggler droids stumbling upon them - and hardly the right time. Obi-Wan could not recall the last time he had meditated properly; most of his time consumed by fighting or dealing with its aftermath. He felt unbalanced, his control was tenuous and he could not stop his thoughts straying toward forbidden paths.

And forbidden desires.

"You have the potential to become a great Jedi," Obi-Wan said. "Certainly greater than myself. Perhaps greater than Yoda."

"But?" Anakin prompted sardonically, gaze fixed firmly ahead. "There must be one. That's how your lectures usually start. Telling me I could be a good Jedi, if only I weren't myself."

Obi-Wan managed not to flinch. Barely. He couldn't stifle the surge of indignation at Anakin's unveiled accusation.

"That is not true," Obi-Wan protested, voice sharp. When Anakin kept his gaze stubbornly away, Obi-Wan cursed inwardly, and strode forward, facing Anakin, forcing Anakin to look at him. "I have never wanted you to be anything but the best version of yourself."

Anakin's gaze flared instantly. "And what version would that be?" Anakin demanded hotly. "Cold and unfeeling like the rest of your good friends on the Council?"

Obi-Wan felt his own anger rise despite his best efforts. "Sometimes I wonder what you believe goes on during Council meetings," Obi-Wan snapped, squaring Anakin with a hard look. "Or what being on the Council truly entails. Especially now, with the war."

Anakin let out a disdainful huff of air. "I've seen the results of what you do behind closed doors. I could make a pretty good guess."

Obi-Wan swallowed the first sharp reply that came to his mind. Along with the urge to shake some sense into Anakin. He took a long breath, then exhaled it slowly, folding his hands across his chest. He could easily recall the last session, the weariness that lingered throughout the entire session, despite the distance that separated the majority of the Council, present only as blue, flickering holoprojections.

"It is not to discuss how to best inconvenience you," Obi-Wan said, voice barely louder than a whisper, but no less sharp for it. He saw the tightening of Anakin's jaw, saw the flicker of hurt flashing in Anakin's eyes, only to harden into righteous anger. "Lately, we discuss numbers the most. Numbers of dead Jedi. Of dead clone troopers."

Obi-Wan paused and looked away, swallowing the bitter taste those words have left in his mouth. He was only partially successful; the ashen taste of helplessness, of defeat, still lingered.

Obi-Wan dragged a weary hand through his hair. Then, he made himself look up, his mouth twisting ruefully. "And, of course, the continuing cost of fighting this blasted war."

Anakin looked torn for a single moment. A beat later, his expression turned durasteel hard, his eyes conveying only accusation and reproach. 

"You forgot to mention discussing whether or not to sacrifice the life and future of an innocent person," Anakin bit out venomously. "Unless you count it under discussing numbers as well. One life in exchange for the rest of the Order, right?"

Obi-Wan could not say he was surprised by Anakin's vehemence; after all, he had come here expecting a fight, expecting the anger and resentment to pour out of Anakin after months of quiet seething. 

And it wasn't like Anakin was wrong. Not… entirely, at least.

Obi-Wan had told Anakin earlier that compromising their ideals meant losing the war no matter the actual outcome. As if compromising their ideals has not been all they have been doing lately. Fighting and killing, jumping through hoops in order to appease the Senate and the rapidly declining public opinion of the Jedi. 

Obi-Wan dragged a hand across his face, a bone-deep weariness infusing every fiber of his being. He still believed in the Code and in the Order itself, both as much a part of him as his flesh and bones. But he could not ignore the harsh truth any longer. With every passing day, the darkness around them grew thicker, shrouding them in doubt and uncertainty. Ahsoka, Bariss, every Jedi who had died in the war; in one way or another, the Order had failed them all.

Obi-Wan loved the Order, the only family he has ever known, but he feared that the path they have been set on - by circumstances, their allegiances to the Republic and the centuries of tradition - was leading them to a dark and desolate place.

Obi-Wan cast his gaze toward the horizon, the doubt he had kept locked deep inside himself, spilling out of him, "Do you believe we can win this war?"

Anakin answered immediately. "Of course. Dooku's luck can't last forever, and all those backing-" 

Anakin's sudden lapse into silence was followed by a burst of surprise and concern, radiating off of him. 

Obi-Wan heard Anakin shift, his clothes rustling with the movement as he came to stand in front of Obi-Wan, his face shadowed but not enough to fully hide the deep crease on his forehead.

"Do you believe we can win?" Anakin asked, his question layered with far too many emotions for Obi-Wan to even attempt to untangle.

The corner of Obi-Wan's mouth curved faintly, sketching a tired, mirthless smile. "Have you tried to meditate lately?" Obi-Wan asked despite having known the answer already. Anakin has never been particularly fond of meditation; neither to seek peace, nor enlightenment. He had always preferred motion and action over stillness and introspection.

The crease on Anakin's brow deepened. "No," he answered curtly. "I had more important things to take care of."

"I have," Obi-Wan said quietly. It had been just after his undercover mission, with the sting of Anakin's anger and hurt still fresh in his mind. He had immersed himself deep into the Force, seeking answers and guidance but receiving neither. He hadn't tried a deep meditation after that. "I sought to see a path out of this conflict, but all I could see was a shroud of darkness, covering everything."

A flicker of uncertainty passed across Anakin's features. It was followed by his chin raised in challenge. "I wouldn't worry," Anakin said, his tone biting. "I'm sure you'll let go of your doubt soon enough. After all, you're good at letting go of things you deem unimportant."

A hot tangle of anger and hurt swelled inside him, making his throat burn. He clenched his jaw and sidestepped past Anakin, ignoring a flash of startled surprise on Anakin's face. For a fleeting moment, Obi-Wan considered walking away. Just… turning around and walking away. It certainly seemed what Anakin wanted of him, at least consciously.

But he could not. Would not.

Whatever mistakes Obi-Wan had made - culminating with allowing his feelings for Anakin to take an ill-advised shape - Anakin was still in need of guidance and someone to be there for him. 

And Obi-Wan - despite his foolish heart and Anakin's resentment - had no intention of turning his back on Anakin. 

Relaxing his jaw, Obi-Wan let out a long, tired breath, as the anger inside him burned itself to ash. He turned his head, catching Anakin's gaze. "Are you ever going to forgive me?" 

Anakin grimaced. "Why should you care whether I forgive you or not? You sure as kriff don't act as though how I feel matters to you."

"That is not true," Obi-Wan said, trying but failing to keep the hurt from his voice. "It is also unworthy of our friendship."

Anakin let out a sharp, angry noise, the leather of his glove creaking as he clenched his fist, rounding on Obi-Wan. "And pretending to be dead is?"

"That was not personal, but an assignment," Obi-Wan snapped, frustration gnawing at his patience and control. He dragged a hand across his face, forcing down the urge to grab Anakin by the shoulders and shake him silly. 

Perhaps he ought to try it. Maybe it would break through the durasteel wall of bitterness and resentment Anakin had erected around himself.

"I held your lifeless body. I attended your funeral," Anakin said, voice perfectly matching his expression: hard and unforgiving. "It couldn't have been more personal than that."

Obi-Wan's hand moved, his fingers wrapping tightly around Anakin's left wrist, following a frenzied urge rather than a conscious thought.

"It was never my intent to hurt you." Anakin made an aborted move to extract his hand out of Obi-Wan's grip, prompting Obi-Wan to tighten his hold. "We are at war, and I was doing my duty. Why can't you understand that? Why won't you even try?"

Anakin's gaze darkened. "You might not have intended it, but you knew you'd hurt me. And you still went through with it."

Obi-Wan let out a sharp breath, releasing Anakin's hand. He spread his hands in a gesture of helpless frustration. "Because it had been my blasted duty," Obi-Wan exclaimed. "You are a Jedi and a General, Anakin, you should know what duty means."

"Obviously more than me," Anakin accused, hurt and anger radiating off of him; thick and stifling. "You've made that perfectly clear."

Obi-Wan stared at him silently, aware of the terrible irony of Anakin's words. And the depth of his failure. He had allowed Anakin's attachment to him to take root and prosper, fostered it even, excusing it to himself with reasoning about Anakin's unique circumstances and his wild, unruly heart. But it has ever been Obi-Wan's own weakness - his own attachment - that has led them here, to this moment: standing on opposing sides of a growing chasm, not because of a lack of love for one another but an abundance of it.

Terrible irony, indeed.

"A Jedi cannot put their personal feelings above the greater good. It goes against the very heart of what the Order stands for." 

Speaking the familiar maxim felt hollow, even disingenuous. As if the words held no weight and no meaning, no lifelong commitment. Their value reduced to nothing but an empty noise and the silence afterward.

Anakin dragged a hand through his hair, his lashes obscuring his gaze for a second. "After you faked your death," Anakin said, his voice vicious for all its softness. "I used to imagine having our roles switched. That you had been the one to deal with my corpse and funeral, while I had been playing with Cad Bane."

Anakin's lashes fluttered, the blue of his eyes darkening to cloudy grey as he folded his hands across his chest in a gesture that was less defiance and more defense.

"I don't do that anymore. Because I know it wouldn't have been the same." Anakin shook his head, a sharp, bitter smile curling his mouth. "You would have accepted my supposed death and moved on. You would have probably congratulated me on a job well done after finding out the truth."

"Yes. Because I would have understood the reasons for your deception. And that my personal feelings couldn't have come first."

"We've already established I'm a lousy Jedi," Anakin ground out. "Far too emotional to fit the mold. Unlike you."

Obi-Wan swallowed heavily. "Control over emotions does not indicate lack of it," Obi-Wan said, unable to stop his voice from cracking. "And the ability to let go of emotions that are harmful to us or the others is the sign of strength and self-awareness." 

Anakin scoffed. "I've heard that speech before." He paused, lowering his arms by his sides, his shoulders sketching a rigid line. "And I've spent years trying to stifle every wrong emotion so you would be proud of me. So you would care for me."

Obi-Wan let out a noise of disbelief. "So I would- Blazes, Anakin, why do you think I am here if not because I care for you?" Obi-Wan inhaled a sharp breath, pressing one unsteady hand against his forehead as he gathered the fraying threads of his self-control. Of all the accusations Anakin had thrown at him, this one had shaken him to the core. "I have cared for you since the moment you'd become my apprentice. I will always care for you. What more do you want from me?"

Anakin seemed frozen for one splinter of a moment, a still figure silhouetted against the orange sky, the Force around him trembling violently, until Anakin's shields shattered, his emotions spilling forth: wild and unrestrained.

Obi-Wan didn't see him move, but between one breath and another, he found himself staring up at Anakin's fervent gaze, his upper arms held in a tight, near desperate hold. 

"I want you to see me , as I am, not the boy you raised," Anakin demanded, low and heated. He brought their foreheads together, his breath ghosting across Obi-Wan's face. "To choose me , above the Order." Anakin paused, his grip tightening to the point of pain. "To love me, as I love you."

With Anakin's shields down, and his heart bared entirely to Obi-Wan, there was no space left for denial or self-deception. What Anakin felt for him was no fleeting infatuation, or misplaced affection. 

It was… love. Deep and all-consuming, and the intensity of it knocked the air out of Obi-Wan's lungs, scattering his thoughts like dried leaves, until only one remained, like a brand upon his mind: Anakin loved him.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin whispered, tilting his head slightly, his breath fanning across Obi-Wan's lips. He cupped the back of Obi-Wan's neck, his emotions - his need - a near physical thing. It nearly matched the corresponding heat, simmering just underneath Obi-Wan's skin. "I love you so much."

Awareness broke through the chaos inside Obi-Wan's head a mere moment before Anakin's lips closed over his own. He took an abrupt step backward, pulling out of Anakin's hold forcefully. 

A sharp, stabbing pain that followed Obi-Wan's retreat, made him double over, dragging a sharp, hissing sound out of his throat, his arm curling protectively against his injured left side.

Obi-Wan shut his eyes briefly, concentrating on breathing through the worst of the pain until it subsided into a dull ache.

Leaving him with nothing to distract him from dealing with Anakin's confession. And his ill-advised - but nearly successful - attempt at a kiss.

Releasing a long breath, Obi-Wan opened his eyes and straightened fully, but kept his hand pressed gingerly against his aching side, meeting Anakin's wide eyed look, his face bone white.

"Did I hurt you?" Anakin's voice trembled, heavy with guilt and regret. His shields were still down, his emotions buffeting Obi-Wan like gale winds.

Obi-Wan sighed, lowering his hand slowly. "Your shields, Anakin," Obi-Wan pointed out in a weary voice, keeping his own as tight as possible.

"Oh. Sorry." Anakin's eyes drifted shut, his shields snapping into place. But it was a hasty construct, nowhere near the durasteel strength Obi-Wan had gotten used to in the wake of his undercover mission. He could still feel the tendrils of concern, fear, guilt, and, above all, love crowding their bond. 

Anakin opened his eyes, his eyes immediately seeking Obi-Wan's. "Did I hurt you?" Anakin repeated, insistent. 

Anakin remained rooted to the spot, but the effort of keeping still was painted across his face and in the tense way he held himself. 

"No," Obi-Wan replied, his mouth curving ruefully. "It happened earlier today. It is nothing serious," Obi-Wan added when Anakin's face drew into a frown, holding up his hand as if to ward off Anakin from dragging him to the med tent. "Just some minor contusions."

Anakin's frown deepened. "It didn't look minor to me," Anakin remarked, his gaze conveying concern and disapproval in equal measure. "Should I even ask have you let Kix examine you?"

Obi-Wan waved dismissively. "I had more important matters to settle."

"Reports don't count as more important than your wellbeing, Obi-Wan."

"I wasn't referring to reports," Obi-Wan said, holding Anakin's gaze firmly. "I was referring to our conversation." Anakin visibly winced, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face, until his expression settled into an approximation of neutrality. "Which, I believe, is not over yet."

Anakin shuffled in place, clearly uncomfortable. "You should get Kix to check out your injury. We can talk later."

Obi-Wan had no intention of leaving anywhere, especially now, with Anakin's confession still lingering in the air, making everything even more complicated. 

Obi-Wan walked over to the rock and sat down, giving Anakin a pointed look. "I am staying here until we have finished our conversation," Obi-Wan said calmly. "So if you wish me to go see Kix, you know what to do."

"That sounds like blackmail."

"If I have to resort to blackmail to have you talk to me, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, not bothered by Anakin's sullen expression in the least. "Then consider yourself blackmailed."

Anakin pressed his mouth into a flat line. He radiated embarrassment and displeasure. "I could just leave, you know."

"You could, yes," Obi-Wan conceded, nodding. "But that would only force me to come after you."

Anakin opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. "Fine," he capitulated after a moment, gesturing with his right hand. "I'm listening."

Obi-Wan swallowed a sigh, the familiar tangle of exasperation and fondness swelling behind the confines of his ribcage. It had taken Obi-Wan years to acknowledge the feeling for what it was: a simple and innocent form of love for the prickly and stubborn man that had made himself the space inside Obi-Wan's heart long before that same heart had made a grievous error.

"Anakin, come here," Obi-Wan said, voice soft. "Please."

After a moment of hesitation, Anakin complied.

"I'm not taking back what I said," Anakin announced when he sat down next to Obi-Wan. His face was resolute, despite the way the fingers of his left hand kept twitching in his lap. "You can ignore it or accept it but don't try to convince me it's a passing infatuation. It's not. I know how I feel."

"I believe you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, voice barely rising above a whisper. He balled his right hand into a loose fist, ignoring the weight that was gathering in the hollow of his chest with each passing moment. "But you must know I cannot say the same."

Anakin's expression crumpled, his pain surging through their bond: sharp and white-hot. 

"I used to think you could love me. Would love me," Anakin amended, his voice brittle like dried leaves. "That all I had to do was wait until you no longer saw me as a boy you raised." A sound: sharp, hollow and entirely void of mirth left Anakin's throat, drawing an involuntary shudder from Obi-Wan. A beat passed before Obi-Wan realized it was supposed to be laughter. "I was a kriffing idiot. You'll never love me."

Obi-Wan swallowed. It had done little to ease the burn inside his throat. "That is not true." When Anakin let out a bitter sound, glancing away, Obi-Wan grabbed him by the shoulders, his heart rate spiking, urgency and alarm shortening his breath. " Anakin . Look at me." 

Anakin obeyed, the defiant tilt of his chin in contrast with the raw hurt in his eyes. "I don't need your pity, Obi-Wan."

It would be so easy, Obi-Wan realized, to lean forward and know the taste of Anakin's lips, to satisfy the need that lived - bound and caged and starved - in the deepest part of his heart.

But he could not do it. Could not be the cause of Anakin's parting with the Jedi Order. And he could not turn his back on everything he had believed in his entire life.

Taking in a sharp breath, Obi-Wan purged his mind of those dangerous, forbidden thoughts. He could not offer Anakin his entire self, but he could offer him his support, trust and friendship. Even love. Just not the kind Anakin craved.

"You are my dearest friend, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, voice steady and strong. "And my brother. There is no one I trust more. No one I care for more. There is no one I would rather have standing beside me but you. You are always in my heart, Anakin, even if I cannot give it to you."

Anakin looked stunned, his eyes gleaming wetly as he stared at Obi-Wan. "Master," he muttered, low and ragged, nestling his head in the crook of Obi-Wan's neck, and grabbing a hold of Obi-Wan's tunic with both hands. Obi-Wan cupped the back of Anakin's neck, carding his fingers through the soft curls. "Don't leave me."

It was not a promise Obi-Wan could give, not without caveats. But still:

"I won't," Obi-Wan assured, stroking Anakin's back gently, sending warmth and affection through their bond. "As long as you need me."

Anakin made a sound that was halfway between laughter and a sob, his grip on Obi-Wan's tunic tightening. "I know you're lying, Obi-Wan," he said, his voice coming out muffled.

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw against the words crowding his mouth, most of them lies, however benevolent. "Then ask me for something else," Obi-Wan said, his throat burning. 

Anakin lifted his head slowly, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears in the growing darkness. "Tell me a story," Anakin said, voice thick with emotion. "A real one this time. I don't care what it's about, just make it real. I'm sick of lies and pretense."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan began, his voice faltering briefly. His heart seemed determined to beat its way out of his chest, torn between two loyalties, and aching fiercely. "Perhaps we should-"

The Force screamed in warning but it came a moment too late. 

Obi-Wan saw Anakin's eyes go wide in alarm a second before he felt a push against his chest, and he found himself flying through the air. He managed to land on his feet, albeit unsteadily, clenching his teeth against a stab of pain and reaching for his lightsaber.

Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and made a step forward. He halted in his tracks, abruptly, an icy shiver of dread crawling up his spine. He could see Anakin, on his feet and facing away from Obi-Wan, his gloved hand outstretched and curled into a fist.

Obi-Wan glanced from Anakin to a warped and smoking pile of metal. Obi-Wan couldn't be entirely certain - not from afar and lacking illumination, not to mention its state - but it looked like a B2 battle droid. Well, remains of one.

Gripping his lightsaber tighter, Obi-Wan stretched out his senses, finding… nothing but silence. Disturbed only by the thundering noise of his heartbeat. Which refused to abate.

Anakin was fine. There was no immediate danger. They had been lucky this time, despite Obi-Wan's idiocy.

So why was dread still gnawing at the inside of his chest?

"Anakin," Obi-Wan forced past the lump in his throat, striding forward, his eyes fixed on Anakin's still figure as if it were the only thing that existed in the entire galaxy. "We need to leave."

Slowly, Anakin lowered his hand, turning his face toward Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan could not see his expression clearly, but he could feel Anakin reach out through their bond toward him: a burst of sensation that enveloped Obi-Wan entirely, stopping him mid-stride with its intensity.

Despite his better judgement, Obi-Wan closed his eyes, surrendering himself wholly to the sensation of warmth that flooded his senses, so intense and overwhelming it differed little from an actual physical touch. It felt like a caress, a hug; gentle and fervent all at once, almost like...

A goodbye.

Obi-Wan snapped his eyes open, terror seizing his heart and strangling his lungs of breath, just in time to see Anakin crumpling bonelessly to the ground.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan strode briskly through the Temple halls, offering a nod in greeting to those he passed by. 

Usually, after a deployment, Obi-Wan would savor the return to Coruscant, walking slowly through familiar halls, his senses basking in the peace and tranquility of the Temple.

But not today. Today, his entire focus rested on the blazing presence in the Force, familiar and beloved, getting closer with each of Obi-Wan's steps.

Obi-Wan had to use much of his willpower to stop himself from outright running to Anakin's quarters, his heart drumming a frantic beat against his breastbone.

Four weeks. He had not seen Anakin in four long, agonizing weeks. Not since Anakin had almost died.

The memory of that dreadful day was like a brand seared onto Obi-Wan's mind: clear and fresh as if it had happened only moments before.

Obi-Wan could still smell Anakin's blood and feel its sticky wetness on his hands. Could recall the frigid chill of dread clawing at his chest as Anakin laid unconscious in his arms, the life-force slowly seeping out of him along with his blood.

Could recall desperation and resolve, and how it had felt to place his hands on Anakin's chest, pouring his own life-force into Anakin, defying death and the Code alike.

And then, afterwards, that single moment of perfect clarity.

Back straight and jaw clenched tightly, Obi-Wan had stayed behind. A still and silent figure, watching a gunship lift off, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he no longer belonged to the Order, but to the man inside the gunship.

Now, after four weeks of waiting and near unbearable distance, Obi-Wan would finally see Anakin again. Alive and well and conscious. Would finally stop seeing him covered in blood and dying slowly in Obi-Wan's arms.

Obi-Wan's heart skipped a beat, all but buzzing with nervous excitement. In just a few moments, he will see Anakin. See him and touch him and offer... everything of himself: his life, his heart, and his soul.

After all, Anakin already had his heart, and Obi-Wan could no longer claim that his life belonged with the Order. Not after the last four weeks, when his loyalty to his men had been the only thing that had stopped him from boarding that gunship instead of Rex.

"In a hurry, you seem, Master Kenobi. An emergency, is there?"

Obi-Wan stopped dead in his tracks, shutting his eyes briefly. 

After his last call to the Temple - using the specially encrypted frequency, reserved for Council members - to inquire about Anakin's health, Obi-Wan had expected Yoda to express his displeasure with Obi-Wan's disregard of safety protocols in person, not merely over the comm. He simply hadn't expected it would happen so soon.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, letting out a resigned breath. Despite the resolutions he had come to in the last four weeks, the Jedi were - and always have been - the only family he had known. To choose a different path from the one he had followed his entire life had been… difficult. 

But also necessary. No one could live with their loyalties divided and a compromised heart. Not without losing themselves entirely.

"Master." Obi-Wan turned, bowing respectfully. "There is no emergency that I am aware of." He allowed himself a wry smile before adding: "Not yet, in any case."

"Your report before the Council, not yet due it is," Yoda says, his eyes set on Obi-Wan's face shrewdly. "Exhausted, you are. Relax, you should. Always fond of The Room of a Thousand Fountains, you were. Go there, you should. Meditate."

Obi-Wan swallowed heavily. He's always suspected that Yoda knew about the… unique bond between him and Anakin, even if he hadn't said anything. Obviously, Yoda knew much more than that.

Well. It wasn't as if Obi-Wan had been subtle these past four weeks. Or had any reason to try and lie to Yoda. It would have been pointless, and unworthy of both of them.

"I am on my way to see Anakin, actually," Obi-Wan said, squaring his shoulders. "I haven't seen him since he was injured. I want to make sure he has recovered fully."

"Know of the young Skywalker's condition, you do," Yoda said, radiating disapproval. "Briefed, you were. Many times. Obstinate, you remained. Disregarded safety protocols, you have."

"I am aware of everything I have done, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan said, quiet but steady. "I am fully prepared to bear the consequences of my actions."

"Bah!" Yoda exclaimed, thumping his gimer stick against the floor before pointing it accusingly at Obi-Wan. "Stubborn, you are. Blinded by attachment. A fine Jedi, you are. Down a dangerous road, you are heading."

Obi-Wan bowed his head, the weight of Yoda's disapproval pressing down on him, unearthing old fears and insecurities. Shame rose from the pit of his stomach, only to flicker and fade, leaving behind only a faint echo of sorrow. Those fears no longer held any sway over him. They belonged to the past, and the man whose only desire had been to serve the Order faithfully, and to the best of his abilities.

Obi-Wan was that man no longer. 

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan raised his head, a sense of calm resolve washing over him. 

"I am sorry for disappointing you, Master," Obi-Wan said, meeting Yoda's gaze steadily. "But I have chosen this path. Wherever it may lead. I cannot turn back. Even if I wanted to."

Yoda regarded him silently, his expression hardening. "Approve of this, I cannot," he said finally, voice sharp.

A flicker of defiance lit up inside Obi-Wan's chest, only to fade quickly. The war has already taken many Jedi. Obi-Wan suspected no one felt their absence more keenly than Yoda.  "I understand, Master," he said quietly, turning to leave.

Obi-Wan had made no more than three steps when he was stopped by a quiet but firm, "Obi-Wan."

With a heavy feeling in his chest, Obi-Wan turned slowly. 

Ever since he had been a boy, Yoda has been a pillar of the Jedi Order; powerful, all-knowing and wise. Despite his quirks.

But in that moment, with his shoulders hunched and his ears drooping, Yoda merely looked old. Old and weary. 

"The Force, may it be with you," Yoda said, his voice balancing between resignation and sorrow. "And young Skywalker."

"And you, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan said, his voice weighed by the sense of finality.

With a deep bow, Obi-Wan turned and walked away, the pressure of regret and sadness within his chest easing with each step, gradually replaced by an entirely different sort of pressure: bright and airy, expanding until his chest seemed far too small to contain it.

A part of Obi-Wan was mortified by his own reactions; the way his emotions were battering at his shields: relentless and insistent. Despite his recent misgivings, Obi-Wan was a Jedi Master, not a lovestruck youth. He ought to have a better control over himself. 

But that was only a small part. The rest of Obi-Wan cared only for the bright presence that drew closer and closer, until there was nothing separating them save the door to Anakin's rooms.

Obi-Wan paused, suddenly uncertain, fingers hovering over the keypad on the side of the door.

He knew the combination, had used it before to let himself inside. Force knows Anakin had done the same, and done it often.

But that had been before. Before Obi-Wan had allowed himself to consider reaching for what - who - he wanted, despite his guilt and shame and doubts. Despite his vows and beliefs. 

Obi-Wan had acknowledged his feelings for Anakin a while ago: love, longing and desire. Acknowledged, and then locked away deep within himself, sentencing them to a slow, agonizing  death of starvation.

Now those feelings were out of their cage, wreaking havoc in the hollow of Obi-Wan's chest, gleefully triumphant. And Obi-Wan was lost in an entirely new territory, suddenly paralyzed by the vastness of it. By its numerous possibilities.

Obi-Wan lowered his hand slowly, but before he could decide on what to do, the door slid open, revealing the familiar beloved face.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan breathed out, drinking in the sight of Anakin's face.

Distantly, Obi-Wan noted the paleness of Anakin's skin and the hint of dark circles under his eyes, a hint of gauntness to his cheeks. Obi-Wan's chest twinged with concern, but it was swept away by the sheer strength of relief that flooded Obi-Wan's senses.

He had known Anakin was alive, could feel his presence - muted by distance, but undeniably there - through their bond. But seeing him had finally lifted the last of the weight Obi-Wan had been carrying ever since the moment Anakin had crumpled to the ground, just out of Obi-Wan's reach.

Anakin's brow creased faintly as he studied Obi-Wan. "Obi-Wan?" There was something odd about his tone; cautious, almost wary. Obi-Wan registered it, but it was a passing thought, drowned out by the thundering beat of his heart. "When did you arrive?"

Obi-Wan clamped down on the impulse to draw Anakin into a hug right there in the hallway, his fingers burning with the need to touch and to hold. "Just now, actually. " Arching an eyebrow, Obi-Wan quirked his mouth into a smile. "Are you going to let me inside?"

Anakin blinked, startled. A beat later, he took a shuffling step to the side, allowing Obi-Wan to enter. 

Obi-Wan glanced around Anakin's room as he stepped inside, his smile widening minutely as he bent down to pick up a discarded tool, placing it on a nearby table.

It was a war he and Anakin had been waging from day one, one Obi-Wan had never even come close to winning. It wasn't even that Anakin was particularly untidy, he simply got distracted easily. 

Or, as Anakin preferred to explain it, it was an organized mess. Something of an oxymoron, certainly, but Obi-Wan has come to learn that many things concerning Anakin defied the norm.

Anakin was... truly one of a kind.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon." Anakin's voice cut through Obi-Wan's musings. "Shouldn't you be in a Council meeting?"

"Not in another few hours. I have already given my report. The one I'll give at the meeting will be a mere formality."

"Did you come here straight from the docks?"

Obi-Wan turned, his brow creasing faintly as a sudden chill pierced through the effulgent warmth inside his chest at Anakin's careful, nearly blank voice.

For four weeks, Obi-Wan had thought of nothing save seeing Anakin again. Seeing him and confessing everything. Being... together. Being happy .

He probably should have considered that Anakin, too, had had time to contemplate their last conversation.

And Obi-Wan's refusal.

"Shouldn't I have?" Obi-Wan asked, quiet, regarding Anakin carefully. He was used to Anakin's moodiness and occasional sullen silence. This… this wasn't it. Anakin seemed subdued, almost grave. Obi-Wan reached out, tentatively brushing against Anakin's shields. Anakin hesitated before reaching back: just a cautious and brief touch before he withdrew behind his shields.

A cold weight settled in Obi-Wan's abdomen. Anakin's shields were not the impenetrable durasteel walls from before their conversation on Erath. But they were there ; keeping Anakin's Force presence a mere flicker of its usual light and warmth.

Anakin's expression mellowed faintly, his mouth acquiring a teasing slant.

"I know all about your post-mission decompression ritual, Obi-Wan," Anakin remarked as he moved away from the door. "Shower, tea and meditation for at least an hour. Only Council meetings get in the way of it."

Obi-Wan forced himself not to squirm under Anakin's inquiring gaze, grasping for a suitable reply, but finding nothing: The Negotiator, bereft of words.

It was… not a comfortable place to be in. 

"If I am not mistaken, I owe you a story," Obi-Wan said, aware of the forced lightness of his tone but unable to do anything about it. Obi-Wan has never thought of himself as someone prone to fear. But standing here, facing Anakin, with his heart beating a rapid tattoo against his sternum, Obi-Wan felt afraid.

Was this how Anakin had felt when he'd bared his heart and asked Obi-Wan to love him: afraid but hopeful that his plea wouldn't be denied? Utterly vulnerable?

Obi-Wan now understood that it had been a far greater act of courage than any of the feats that have earned Anakin the nickname Hero With No Fear.

"I never cared that much for the stories," Anakin admitted after a moment of silence, holding Obi-Wan's gaze unflinchingly. "I only wanted to be close to you."

Obi-Wan looked away, the words he'd meant to say catching in his too dry throat at the note of resignation in Anakin's voice. 

He had made a mess of everything, back there or Erath. Ironic, considering his intent had been the exact opposite. 

Or perhaps fitting, considering the lie he had told to achieve it.

"Why are you here, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan snapped his gaze toward Anakin. "The last I saw you, you were barely alive," Obi-Wan said, sharper than he intended for the twinge of hurt that stabbed at his chest. "Where else should I have gone?"

Anakin tilted his head to the side, studying Obi-Wan with quiet intensity. "I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you. Or so I've been told."

"And I am still behind you on that account," Obi-Wan said. "As you know quite well."

Anakin waved off Obi-Wan's words, his gaze sharpening. "Master Che said that what you did was reckless and dangerous. For both of us. Only she used different words." Anakin paused, giving Obi-Wan a pointed look. "Mind telling me why you ignored everything you've ever said to me about following the Code? Or should I guess?"

Obi-Wan's mouth tightened. "I haven't done anything you wouldn't have done in those circumstances."

"Yes," Anakin said. "But I was never much of a Jedi."

"Obviously, I am not much of one either," Obi-Wan snapped, helpless frustration churning inside his stomach. For all that he'd thought of this moment for four weeks, Obi-Wan hadn't had a clear vision of how he wanted it to go. This had not been among even the vaguest of his ideas. "And even worse a teacher if you truly believe that letting you die would have been the right thing to do."

Anakin stuck out his chin defiantly. "According to the Code, yes. Certainly better than risking both our lives."

Obi-Wan hands pricked with the familiar desire to shake Anakin silly. Instead, he shrugged out of his robe, draping it over the backrest of the chair closest to him, forcing his heart rate to slow down.

"No Master would have allowed their Padawan to die if there was a chance to save them," Obi-Wan murmured, glancing at Anakin from the corner of his eye, his fingers curling loosely around the backrest, softened by the fabric of Obi-Wan's robe.

"I am no longer your Padawan," Anakin pointed out, unfolding his arms from across his chest and straightening fully. "I haven't been for years."

Obi-Wan's mouth quirked into a ghost of a smile. "As you keep reminding me," he remarked drily. "It doesn't really matter as much as you think it does."

An almost pained expression flitted across Anakin's face, morphing into grim resolve. "Soon, it won't matter at all."

Obi-Wan's stomach clenched with unease that resembled dread far too much for Obi-Wan's liking. "What makes you so certain?" Obi-Wan asked, slowly and carefully. He tightened his hold on the chair's backrest, instinctively bracing himself for impact.

There was a tiny flicker of hesitation in Anakin's eyes, followed by a tentative brush against Obi-Wan's shields: soft and gentle, almost reverent. 

Obi-Wan reached back - concerned and relieved at the same time - only to find himself grasping at nothing, as Anakin hurriedly pulled away, back behind his shields.

Obi-Wan swallowed a frustrated noise, his hands falling by his sides as he turned to face Anakin fully. "Anakin-"

"I am leaving the Order," Anakin announced steadily. He was watching Obi-Wan with unwavering eyes but Obi-Wan could see the uncertainty and unease in the occasional twitch of Anakin's fingers and the slight wobble to his lower lip. 

Obi-Wan could only stare at Anakin, struck speechless, his thoughts stuttering to a halt.

"After the war ends. I wouldn't leave you to fight alone," Anakin added in the ensuing heavy silence, his voice wavering faintly. He paused and glanced away, his throat working visibly as he swallowed. "If they allow me to stay that long."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. Then, he did it again. And again, feeling the impact of Anakin's announcement lessen with each intake of breath.

How many times had he imagined himself in this exact same situation as Anakin grew older and increasingly dissatisfied with the basic tenants of the Order? How many times had he watched Anakin's fiery temperament flare hot, wondering would this be the last time?

Obi-Wan didn't - couldn't - know the exact number, but he vividly remembered the tight knot of frustration, helplessness and doubt forming in the pit of his stomach each and every time. 

There was also a question. A question that had plagued Obi-Wan for the majority of Anakin's apprenticeship.

What would he do if Anakin decided to walk away from the Order?

Even then, the answer had always been simple and clear. 

Now… now it was inescapable. Natural as drawing breath.

"Well," Anakin demanded after the silence went on for too long, his voice cracking on the edges. "Aren't you going to say something?"

Obi-Wan allowed himself a faint smile. "I told you already, Anakin. It doesn't matter whether you are my Padawan or a Knight. Or even a Jedi."

Anakin frowned, his mouth flattening. "You're not making much sense." He spread his hands arms; a gesture that was less challenging and more desperate. "Aren't you going to lecture me? Tell me how much of a disappointment I am?" 

Anakin broke off suddenly, his features twisting into a pained mask. "Are you going to ask me to stay?"

Obi-Wan didn't hesitate, the words leaving his lips with the weight and surety of a vow. "If leaving the Order is your choice, then that is also my choice."

Anakin's eyes grew wide with shock. His lips parted, but no words were coming out. Even the Force around him - usually alive and vibrant - had gone utterly still.

"What?" Anakin rasped finally, disbelief etched onto his features.

"If you leave the Order, I am coming with you."

"You will-" Anakin shook his head and began pacing, looking utterly bewildered. "You can't be serious."

"I assure you, Anakin, this is not something I would even think to joke about," Obi-Wan said, arching an eyebrow. He let out a long breath, any trace of humor leaving his expression. He didn't doubt the sincerity or the depth of Anakin's feelings for him. Still. A sliver of a doubt wedged itself within the flesh of his heart: bitter and cold. "Unless you do not want me to come with you?"

Anakin halted briefly, giving Obi-Wan an incredulous look. "Of course I want you with me. There isn't anything I want more." He dragged fingers through his hair, mussing it further. He began pacing again, his expression torn between hope and disbelief. "But you belong here. With the Jedi. We both know it."

"My place is by your side, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, voice soft but no less strong for it. Saying it felt… liberating. And not as nearly as difficult as Obi-Wan had thought it would be. "Wherever you may go."

Anakin stopped in his tracks, letting out a frustrated noise. "You have kept your word to Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan. You've taken me on and trained me. You've done everything you could have. Abandoning your life just because I'm not a Jedi I should be, would be taking it a bit too far."

"Force, Anakin," Obi-Wan snapped, striding forward and gripping Anakin by the shoulders. Anakin blinked, startled, but made no attempt to pull away. Which was entirely for the best because Obi-Wan wasn't certain he would have let him. Not before Anakin understood how much he meant to Obi-Wan. How… essential he had become. "Haven't we been over this in the past? I have taken you on because Qui-Gon had asked me to, yes. But you were the reason I remained by your side even when I thought a different Master would have done a better job-"

"What? No !" Anakin interjected vehemently, shaking his head in fierce denial. He grabbed Obi-Wan's forearms, as if seeking an anchor. "That's the stupidest thing you've ever said. You're the only Master I ever needed. The only one I wanted."

"-and you are the reason I am choosing to remain by your side now. Above my commitment to the Order."

Anakin let out a low sound, but otherwise he remained deathly still, his grip on Obi-Wan's forearms bordering on painful. 

Obi-Wan sighed. "I haven't been the Master you deserved, Anakin," he said softly, loosening his grip on Anakin's shoulders faintly, feeling the  "Nonetheless, I am selfishly thankful for having been your Master."

A fierce longing shone from Anakin's eyes, and beneath it: a spark of hope. It shimmered in the space between them, warming up their bond as it built, and built.

Only to fizzle out and fade.

Anakin's eyes grew shuttered, a sudden chill infusing their bond, drawing a startled gasp out of Obi-Wan's throat.

"You don't know everything, Obi-Wan," Anakin said, letting go of Obi-Wan. His eyes were flat and lifeless; a dull grey of a rainy afternoon in the place of the usual clear, brilliant blue. "And when I tell you everything, you'll hate me."

Obi-Wan's stomach went heavy with dread. For a fraction of a moment, Obi-Wan tightened his hold, unwilling to let Anakin go. 

Afraid to let go.

Swallowing thickly, Obi-Wan forced his fingers to unclench from where they were digging into Anakin's shoulders. Slowly, reluctantly he pulled away, lowering his hands by his sides.

"You are capable of inciting many emotions, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, trying but failing miserably to give his words a light, teasing tone. "Hate is not one of them."

Anakin's mouth twisted, his features contorting into a pained grimace. "Because Jedi don't hate, right?"

"No. Because I could never hate you , Anakin. No matter what you have done."

"Even if it's something that goes against everything you've taught me?" Anakin lifted his chin, but it was a false bravado, entirely ruined by the desolate look in his eyes.

An icy chill permeated down to his very bones, his heart clenching painfully. But Obi-Wan refused to look away or back down. 

"I suppose there is only one way for you to believe my words," Obi-Wan said, voice steady. "Tell me the truth."

A flicker of hesitation passed across Anakin's face, replaced quickly by a grim determination. He straightened fully, his shoulders set into a rigid line. 

"You remember what I told you about my Mother's death?" Anakin asked, voice hollow and brittle.

Obi-Wan merely nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He remembered well that night; the grief and the agony of loss that had bled out of Anakin as he'd broken down in Obi-Wan's arms.

But he also remembered the rage simmering underneath the pain, and that one place inside Anakin's mind - tightly locked and carefully guarded - Obi-Wan had never gotten to see.

Until today.

"But I never told you what happened afterward."

Obi-Wan could feel the temperature in the room decrease, matching the chill of dread rising from the pit of his abdomen.

"I killed them all," Anakin said in a flat, lifeless tone, his gaze fixed unblinkingly on Obi-Wan's face, his face twisting into a grimace.

Obi-Wan's breath snagged in his throat as images - vague and disjointed - of a blue lightsaber slashing through robed and masked figures invaded his mind.

"Women and children, too," Anakin continued in that same, almost mechanical, voice. "I left no one alive."

Obi-Wan's eyes drifted shut, bile gathering at the back of his throat. He could feel it now, the echoes of Anakin's fury raging like wildfire in his veins. Hatred as well: thick and cloying, pressing against his lungs, almost suffocating him with its intensity.

It was mindless, senseless revenge. Void of even the faintest glimmer of mercy and compassion. 

Forcing his eyes to open, Obi-Wan looked at Anakin. Truly looked at him. Past his grim expression that poorly hid the anxiety churning just below the surface, and into the familiar blazing flame of Anakin's Force presence, noting the thin lines of darkness spreading all throughout it; like spiderweb cracks through glass.

Guilt coiled around Obi-Wan's heart like a durasteel vise, squeezing mercilessly. How could he have been so blind? How could he have allowed it to happen? Anakin had been the brightest light he's ever seen, but now that light had been marred by darkness. Darkness that has been festering inside Anakin for years, and Obi-Wan has done nothing to prevent it, far too immersed in his own inner struggles and doubts.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said in a voice that seemed distant and weak, and nothing like his own. "Tell me you understand what you've done was wrong."

Please tell me that you understand. Don't make me lose you to this.

"They deserved to die," Anakin croaked, his glove creaking as his hand tightened into fist. "For what they did."

Obi-Wan felt ill, his knees almost too weak to support his weight, let alone allow him to walk. But he had to. He had to get closer until this chasm between them became too wide.

Impossible to cross.

Obi-Wan made a careful step forward, noting the way Anakin's entire body went taut, his eyes flashing with something closely resembling panic. 

Obi-Wan stopped, raising his hands placatingly. 

"No one has the right to decide that," Obi-Wan said, carefully choosing his words, barely managing to keep his voice from cracking. It was… difficult. Everything was difficult: thinking, breathing, even looking at Anakin. "Taking another sentient life is not a right any being can claim for themselves. Surely you see that, Anakin."

"I-" Anakin's voice broke, his features twisting into a grimace of pure misery. He pressed the knuckles of his gloved hand against his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. "You didn't see her, Obi-Wan. You didn't see what they've done to her."

Obi-Wan expelled a shaky breath, strengthening his shields against the maelstrom of Anakin's emotions, each one tangled with the other, each one fierce and barely leashed. 

"That is not an excuse. It cannot be. Not for a massacre."

Anakin opened his eyes and lowered his hand dejectedly by his side. "I knew you wouldn't understand," Anakin rasped, his eyes gleaming wetly. But he held Obi-Wan's gaze unblinkingly. "I've always known it."

"Is that the reason you have kept this from me?" Obi-Wan asked, quiet. 

Is that why you didn't trust me?

Anakin's gaze faltered, the Force around him shuddering with guilt and shame, but mostly with fear: deep and all-consuming.

"I was afraid you would hate me," Anakin admitted, his shoulders sagging. "I didn't- I couldn't risk losing you."

Obi-Wan dragged trembling fingers across his face. He desperately clung to the fraying threads of control, but it seemed like an almost impossible achievement. He felt hollowed out, bone-weary. "You should have told me. You should have trusted me, Anakin."

Anakin's mouth twisted bitterly. "To do what? Support me? You can barely look at me."

"Of course I wouldn't have supported a wholesale slaughter," Obi-Wan snapped, harsher than he intended. Anakin flinched, misery bleeding off of him in thick waves. 

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, grasping at the frayed threads of his self-control with desperate strength. "I could have helped you," he added in a softer voice. 

"How? By reporting me to the Council? Making sure I got what I deserved?" Anakin's lips curled over his teeth, but all Obi-Wan could see were the tears spilling down Anakin's cheeks. Gesturing toward the door, Anakin bit out viciously, "Go ahead. Do it. It's not like I have anything to lose."

Obi-Wan felt his temper flare briefly, but he kept himself in check. He knew Anakin sought to shield himself from guilt and regret with anger and defiance. And that was the last thing he needed.

"I cannot condone your actions," Obi-Wan said, steady and calm. "But I am not going to be your judge."

Anakin blinked, looking bewildered, and lost. And so very young. "What?"

Obi-Wan was aware of the gravity of his next words. Aware of their… implications. And the tight coil of guilt settling low in his abdomen.

But he didn't hesitate. 

"I will not inform the Council, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, ignoring the bitter aftertaste those words left in his mouth. 

A cold shiver slithered down Obi-Wan's spine as a realization dawned on him: there was no turning back now. He was no longer a Jedi. He had chosen Anakin over the Order. He'd done it on Erath, as he held Anakin's still body in his arms, pouring his life essence into him, disregarding all possible dangers to both of them. This, now, choosing to hide Anakin's crime, only confirmed it.

For one distant moment, Obi-Wan felt unbalanced, as if the entire galaxy had shifted off its axis, leaving him unmoored.

"Why?"

Anakin's unsteady voice cut through the haze around Obi-Wan's mind, drawing him back to the present.

And the gravity of the moment.

"Why are you willing to do this?" Anakin's voice was far too desperate for his words to be an outright demand. He gestured at Obi-Wan, his expression that of raw anguish. "You look like you're about to get sick just from being in the same room with me."

Obi-Wan regarded Anakin silently, the thundering beat of his heart calming with each passing second. Words like duty, promise, responsibility flitted through Obi-Wan's mind, examined briefly, only to be discarded as insufficient. 

Obi-Wan inhaled deeply, hesitating. He knew the answer to Anakin's question - it was rooted deep within his very soul - but he also knew this was the worst possible moment to bare his heart to Anakin.

And yet, somehow, it was fitting. 

"Do you trust me, Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin opened his mouth, hesitating one long, excruciating moment. "Yes," he whispered finally, the Force ringing with the truth of his statement.

"Then come here," Obi-Wan said, extending his hand to Anakin.

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan's offered hand then back up at his face, looking increasingly perplexed. "Obi-Wan, what-"

"You said you trust me," Obi-Wan interjected. Anakin frowned, but nodded. "Then trust me, Anakin."

Anakin crossed the space that separated them, taking Obi-Wan's hand with his own, the leather of his glove cool against Obi-Wan's skin. His eyes were set on Obi-Wan's: open and vulnerable.

Obi-Wan curved his free hand around the nape of Anakin's neck, pulling his head down, until Anakin's forehead rested against Obi-Wan's.

"What are you doing?" Anakin asked, his voice an unsteady rasp, his breath warming what little space was separating their lips.

"Answering your question," Obi-Wan breathed, shutting his eyes. 

Then, he lowered his shields, every last one of them. They have used their bond before, and often, but they have always kept parts of themselves hidden behind shields. 

No more. If they are to move beyond this moment, if there was to be future for the two of them together, there could be no more secrets between them. No more lies, no more pretense, no more omissions.

Only truth.

Distantly, Obi-Wan thought he heard Anakin gasp, but he couldn't be certain. The physical reality no longer mattered, it was reduced to a mere afterthought as their minds touched, and their bond was overflowed with sensations.

Obi-Wan let go of everything, allowing Anakin to see his innermost self: his fears and doubts, his pride and satisfaction, his struggles and lies, his guilt and regret and shame. His love . 

The love that had blossomed within Obi-Wan's heart years ago, strengthening and morphing, until it had turned into the steady flame that burned inside Obi-Wan's chest despite his efforts to ignore it, bury it and starve it.

Obi-Wan could not tell how much time had passed - it could have been a minute, and it could have been an hour - before Anakin pulled away, breathing harshly, his emotions filling the tiny space between their bodies, heady and fiery-hot.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin breathed, fisting the front of Obi-Wan's tunic with his free hand. "You- You love me?"

Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes, meeting Anakin's wide-eyed gaze, full of wonder and hope, his love shining as bright as the suns of his home planet.

Obi-Wan reached out, wiping the trace of moisture from Anakin's cheek with his thumb. "I am sorry I hid it from you," Obi-Wan whispered, squeezing Anakin's fingers tighter. "And I am sorry for lying to you."

A shadow passed across Anakin's face. "I wish you'd told me," he said, nuzzling closer, his lips ghosting across Obi-Wan's temple. "Why didn't you tell me? You knew I loved you. Force, I don't even remember the time when I wasn't in love with you."

Obi-Wan swallowed heavily, carding his fingers into Anakin's unruly locks. "You know why," Obi-Wan whispered against Anakin's jaw, his heart rate spiking. "You know everything now."

Anakin let out a shuddering breath, letting go of Obi-Wan's tunic and fitting his hand against the side of Obi-Wan's face. 

"Can you forgive me for what I've done?" Anakin whispered, low and hoarse, his mouth a hairsbreadth away from Obi-Wan's. "Can you still love me?"

"I will always love you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his voice barely rising over a whisper. "But it is not my place to forgive you."

Anakin's face fell, hurt bleeding into his expression. He made a move as to pull away, but Obi-Wan tightened his grip, keeping him in place.

Keeping him close.

"What I can do. What I will do," Obi-Wan continued, keeping Anakin's gaze steadily. "Is help you realize the true extent of your actions, and the damage it has done to you."

Anakin blinked, his mouth parting around a soft exhale. He searched Obi-Wan's face, hope and disbelief waging a war across his features. "You still want to leave with me? Leave the Order?"

Obi-Wan let out a low, exasperated sound, his chest aching. But it was a different ache from the one Obi-Wan had lived with for years. This one didn't gnaw at his heart, leaving it bloody and wounded. "I have no secrets left to hide, Anakin. Not from you."

Obi-Wan didn't know who'd made the first move: he or Anakin. Not that it mattered, not really. 

What matterd was the way Anakin opened his mouth, soft and pliant, allowing Obi-Wan to lick his way inside, their bond pulsating with heat as Obi-Wan deepened the kiss, a hot lick of desire coiling low in his stomach.

Obi-Wan pulled away, gasping, mouthing at the corner of Anakin's jaw, his fingers still fisting Anakin's hair.

"Does that answer your question, Anakin?" Obi-Wan said, breathless. "Or should I tell you a story?"

Anakin let out a startled sound, his hand sliding down to curl around the nape of Obi-Wan'a neck. 

"I already told you," Anakin said, turning his head, his teeth grazing the shell of Obi-Wan's ear. "I never cared for the stories. I only cared about being close to you."

Obi-Wan let out a soft laugh, allowing his eyes to drift shut as Anakin nuzzled the side of his face, radiating warmth and content.

The future was still clouded and uncertain, and there were many obstacles left for them to face, especially the darkness that has taken root within Anakin's soul. Obi-Wan knew that. 

Just as he knew that there was no obstacle, no difficulty he could not face as long as Anakin was by his side.

As long as they were together.