Chapter Text
The first time Anakin had a panic attack since Obi-Wan had been shot, he didn’t think much of it. A part of his mind still clung to the image of Obi-Wan, lifeless in Ahsoka’s arms as she looked up at him, tears threatening to spill over. How he felt their bond shatter into a million pieces, and the accompanying loneliness that he felt.
But it was strange, the way that there still seemed to be embers of what was once a burning bond. It was still warm when Anakin tested the waters, reaching out to see if he could sense something, anything.
He did. But he was afraid of what it meant.
They had been happening more often anyway, ever since he had gotten back from when Dooku had captured him on Naboo.
But the nightmares, the nightmares of hearing the shot echo throughout the nighttime air of Coruscant, the warning in the force, the rushing, hoping, praying that he wasn’t too late. That hadn’t happened since his mother had died. And just like with his mother, he was too late.
Anakin found himself sitting up in his bed, covered in a cold sweat and shaking. Heat pounding in his chest. Gasping for air, a hand clutching at his sleeping tunic because he needed it off. There was too much weight on his chest, and he couldn’t get enough air, and each time he closed his eyes, he saw Obi-Wan’s body fall from the rooftop and down onto the ground below.
Another gasp for air, his hands curled into fists as he tried to maintain his grip on his bed sheets, his tunic and on reality. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing away those scenes that played out over and over again behind his eyes. He opened them again, gasping for air when he realized that wouldn’t work. He looked over at his nightstand, at the chronometer that was showing him the time. But he couldn’t read it very well through his tears. He blinked again, his eyes moving towards a glass of water that was on the nightstand as well. With a shaking hand, he reached out and grabbed it, taking slow, tentative sips to stop himself from breathing so hard.
It was a technique he had figured out at the beginning of the war, and one that he was using more and more frequently as the war continued to drag on. But he wanted to be quiet, careful not to wake Ahsoka.
He placed the glass back down on the nightstand. His hands still shook so he moved carefully, not wanting to spill the water and then explain to Ahsoka why he was making so much noise in the middle of the night.
He rubbed his eyes again and checked the time. He had to be up again in four hours. He sighed, setting the glass back down on the table, doing his best to control his breathing. Just like how Obi-Wan had taught him. He wiped the tears from his eyes, sighing when he realized that he had only slept for three hours before being woken up again. But now, even though it was the dead of night, his body shook with adrenaline, and his chest ached with the fear that was slowly fading away. His heartbeat had calmed down, but not enough to where he could relax again. But he knew he needed to. Not for his sake, but for Ahsoka, who needed someone who wasn’t going to leave her. Wasn’t going to betray her trust and stay at her side no matter what. He had to be a good master for her.
He took another deep breath and curled his hands around the bedsheets. He needed to get a grip. He couldn’t afford to slip up. Ahsoka was counting on him.
Another breath in.
Everything was fine. It had to be.
When he woke up again that morning, he ran a hand over his face and sighed. His body ached for more sleep, but his thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone. He knew that he needed to get up, but his limbs and his heart were heavy. Anakin turned to watch as the morning light began to creep through the cracks in the blinds. It was still early- Ahsoka would still be sleeping and Anakin didn’t want to wake her. But he knew that he had to get up soon. The Chancellor had requested his presence for later in the morning. Mace had told Anakin to meet him in the afternoon for a sparring session. He was going to go with the archives with Ahsoka in the evening so she could get better at huttese.
Anakin rolled out of the bed and quickly got ready for the day. He opened his datapad his eyes skimming over messages that Rex had sent him about the troops. The words seemed to blur together.
Anakin blinked. It was probably eyestrain.
He walked into the kitchen and set the tablet down on their small kitchen table. After he turned on the caf maker, he looked at the cabinets. He could grab a ration bar. But he wasn’t hungry. He was tired, and he couldn’t afford to be tired. But when he went to go put sugar into his drink, his hands shook again, and he spilled sugar onto the counter.
He brushed it into the sink. It was probably from last night. He didn’t think much about it.
By the time he made it down to the hangar, his hand had stopped shaking. But the hangar seemed louder and busier than normal. It was slightly disorienting, but Anakin didn’t stop to think about it. He needed to be on time for this meeting with the Chancellor. He knew that he should be honored to be held in such high regard by such a powerful man. And he wanted to show that he respected that- especially now when he needed guidance more than ever.
He hoped into the driver’s seat of the speeder and started the engine. His hands were steady when he gripped the yoke. Always a good sign.
He pulled out of the hangar and sped off towards the senate building.