Chapter Text
Satine. A girl from his past who could never be a part of his future.
A small, tiny part of him had always hoped of course, but now… Now that shred of hope was gone. That hope had been extinguished just as she had been.
Try as he might, Obi-Wan could not rid the memory of her taking one final shuddering breath in his arms from his head. It replayed over and over like a broken holo recording.
Some things don’t fade so easily.
As he staggered onto the temple’s loading dock, he was vaguely aware that Anakin was there to greet him after returning from his ill-fated mission to Mandalore.
His mission.
Satine had been his mission. A mission dearer to him than almost any other mission he’d ever been on. A mission he had failed.
He could tell right away that Anakin knew something was wrong. Anakin’s piercing stare bore holes through his shields, through the neutral expression on his face, and through the stolen Mandalorian armor that still adorned his body. He had never been good at hiding things from Anakin. Now was no different. Still, he kept his eyes forward and his pace even.
“Master?” Anakin said cautiously, as though he were speaking with a wild animal. “Master, what happened?”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan tried to say in a warning tone, but he just sounded tired, even to his own ears.
“Master, where is the duchess?”
“The Duchess of Mandalore is dead,” he said quietly. He didn’t pause. He didn’t stop walking. He couldn’t stop walking. He just needed to go home, lie down, and pretend that everything that just happened to him was nothing but a bad dream.
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said in a gentle tone. A pitying tone. Obi-Wan hated that.
“Please, Anakin, don’t…”
“Obi-Wan, stop,” Anakin commanded in a firmer tone, grabbing Obi-Wan’s shoulder and forcing him to come to a halt. Obi-Wan winced. “Master, are you hurt?”
He hadn’t really taken the time to pay attention to his body, but he realized he was quite sore, likely from the crash, and from being roughed up by Death Watch only mere hours ago. It felt like a lifetime ago.
“No, Anakin. I’m fine, just tired. Let me go. Please.”
Obi-Wan lamented how pleading his voice sounded but didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he started walking again. This time Anakin didn’t stop him, but he didn’t leave his side either. His former Padawan was nothing if not persistent.
“Do you want to talk about it? Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“Not particularly.”
“That’s alright,” Anakin said quietly. Obi-Wan was mildly surprised he gave up the line of questioning so quickly, but he knew Anakin would bring it up again – probably sooner rather than later.
Anakin continued to hover at his side, matching his pace step for step. “Master, you shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’m not a youngling Anakin, I’m perfectly fine on my own.”
“I never said you weren’t,” Anakin said placatingly. “I don’t want you to be alone. I’m coming with you.”
“Anakin…”
“I’m coming with you.”
Obi-Wan didn’t have the mental resolve to fight against Anakin’s stubborn will right now. “Fine.”
Anakin followed Obi-Wan to the apartment they used to share, but where Obi-Wan now lived alone.
“Go get changed, I’ll make us some tea,” Anakin said.
“You hate tea.”
“You don’t.”
In spite of himself, a small feeling that wasn’t numbing grief, that wasn’t crushing despair, floated in his mind. Gratitude. It was a momentary feeling of warmth in a sea of cold sorrow, but Obi-Wan was grateful for the reprieve – however fleeting it may be. He offered Anakin a half-smile which the younger Jedi returned in full.
Obi-Wan grabbed a change of clothes and stepped into the fresher. He took a moment to look at his reflection. Force , he looked rough. The dark circles under his eyes seemed more prominent against his pale complexion.
He averted his gaze and instead focused on getting the armor off. With some effort, he was able to wriggle out of the foreign plastoid shell. The motion tugged at his sore muscles and bruised ribs, but the physical pain was almost a comfort. It was something else to focus on at the very least. He pulled on his normal leggings and a soft long sleeve.
He glanced back at himself in the mirror. He didn’t really want to face himself, but he knew he needed to face Anakin. He splashed some water on his face and tried to think about anything but Satine. His skin was nowhere near his usual pallor, but there was only so much he could do about that. He grimaced before returning to his small kitchen table. Anakin was already waiting for him with a steaming cup of tea. He accepted it gratefully.
“Thank you, Anakin.”
“Of course, Master.”
“You don’t have to be here.”
“I want to be.”
Obi-Wan hummed and sipped on his tea.
“I assume you don’t have any new roommates I’m not aware of living in my old room?”
“It’s all yours.”
“Perfect,” Anakin smiled. “It’ll be just like old times huh?”
Obi-Wan managed a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He looked down before he could acknowledge Anakin’s concerned gaze.
“I’m going to go to bed now, Anakin. Feel free to stay up, I know it’s still early.”
“Alright, Master,” Anakin said warily. “Let me know if you need anything. Or if you want to talk.”
“Thank you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said sincerely. “You didn’t have to…”
“Stop,” Anakin said, cutting him off. “I wanted to.”
Obi-Wan shot him a grateful look before returning to his room. He climbed into his bed and instantly curled into himself. The sheets were cool against his skin and he wrapped his blankets more tightly around him. He had initially thought he would spend the night wide-awake, unable to shut down his brain long enough to get some sleep. However, he found his tired body was winning the war against his mind and soon enough Obi-Wan allowed himself to fall hard into sleep.