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Anakin was trying but failing to sleep for the millionth time in the past week. Why was he failing to fall asleep? Because he had the most eternally frustrating boyfriend of all time.
Anakin imagined that he was going grey from the stress of it all. If Ben didn’t have his nice blue-green eyes, and dimples, and soft, coppery hair, and freckles and wasn’t kind and charming, it would have been over. Maybe. He needed Ben, and Ben definitely needed him, though he didn’t always admit it, which led to frustrations and sleepless nights (and days).
Ben was impulsive and Ben was stubborn. He also had an obsessive commitment to his writing, which had literally almost killed him, but he blithely didn’t care. Didn’t he realize how precious he was? That if he didn’t care about his physical body, Anakin did? He was rather attached to that body and the person within it.
Ben had been mildly cooperative for about the first week or so after leaving the hospital after nearly dying, probably because he had trouble getting off the couch without help. As he got a little stronger, he got bored and ornery and then sneaky. Very sneaky.
Anakin noticed a pattern that he found very disturbing. All of Ben’s follow up doctor’s appointments seemed to be conveniently scheduled on days which Anakin worked. Ben reassured him that everything was fine, but Anakin didn’t believe a word of it. As a result, he would retaliate with something sneaky himself.
Anakin first talked to his partner in crime, Ahsoka, while they were taking a lunch break from their shift in the ICU.
Anakin stabbed at his broccoli, not actually eating it. “I don’t know what to do Ahsoka, he’s driving me crazy. I can’t take it anymore.”
Ahsoka set down her burrito and settled into their talk. “How’s he doing?”
Terrible, Anakin thought. “A little better but so exhausted and weak. He can barely putter around the house. He sleeps on the couch.”
“Oh really? Trouble in paradise?” she quipped.
“No, Ahsoka,” he replied, with a friendly arm punch. “Because it takes him 20 minutes to get up the stairs, but he won’t admit it or let me help him.” Anakin grabbed his hair and yanked on it with both hands. “I’m so frustrated!”
Ahsoka shook her blue and white braids and wagged a finger at him. “Anakin, if you keep pulling your hair out, you’ll go bald and die alone.”
That would be terrible. “Ben would love me if I was bald.”
Ahsoka raised a brow. “Would he? He’s not even sleeping with you.”
Anakin slammed the lid over his chicken breast, no longer hungry. “Ugh Ahsoka, that’s…. Ugh… I have to get to one of his appointments.”
“Don’t worry, Anakin. I’ll find out for you.”
“How?”
She shrugged. “I have my sources. Mainly Dr. Windu.”
“Don’t get into trouble, Snips.”
“Would I ever?” She asked, with a manic grin.
Anakin did manage to find out his next appointment time and arrived at the clinic about 10 minutes after it was supposed to start. The waiting room was empty, which was perfect. He approached the receptionist with confidence.
“Um, hi, I’m supposed to be here with Ben Kenobi, he’s my boyfriend? Can I go back?”
“Oh, we love Ben!,” she exclaimed. Of course they did. Everyone did. Anakin sighed.
He gave her wide blue eyes and an innocent smile. “I’m just a little late.”
“Go ahead, sweetie, they’re in room 5.”
Through the door, he could hear Dr. Eerin talking, something about echocardiogram results. Echo? What was wrong with Ben’s heart? Anakin knocked loudly. The doctor opened the door and stuck out her head.
“What is it?” She asked, perplexed.
“I’m here with him,” Anakin said, pointing at the person of interest seated on the exam table, looking sheepish but endearing in a blue cashmere sweater.
“Is that ok?” She asked Ben, who had just lost all the color in his face. “Yes,” he said with uncharacteristic meekness.
“Can we discuss your results in front of him?” She asked Ben as Anakin sat in one of the chairs.
“I suppose we must,” Ben said, giving Anakin a look somewhere between worry and death glare.
Dr. Eerin smiled, seemingly pleased with this. “Good, I was surprised that you were coming to these visits alone, given how ill you were.”
Ben seemed to find his fingernails very interesting. “Ah well, Anakin was working.”
“I WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN WORKING IF YOU WOULD HAVE TOLD ME!” Anakin yelled, not meaning to be so loud. He was so worried.
The doctor gave him a side long glance and grimaced, not clear on how to handle this odd, yelling family member. She seemed to decide that the best course of action was to ignore the yelling. “Well, let’s discuss the results. Your heart function is a little improved since the hospital but still about half what it should be.”
“HALF? Let me see that,” Anakin shouted, looking over at the screen to stare the report. It was not good. He felt himself turning red.
“I expect it to recover like it did the first time, but you’re going to need to do some rehabilitation,” she said, her voice uneasy.
Anakin tried to take a few deep breaths and lower the tone of his voice. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “He will do whatever you think will make him better.”
Ben tilted his head and glared at him. “He is still sitting here.” He turned towards Dr. Eerin. “ Is that really necessary?”
“I think it will help you get stronger, faster in a controlled, safe setting. You’re still young. You can recover from this.”
Ben looked down at his lap, studying his hands. “It doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”
Anakin’s heart burst inside of him. Ben would rarely admit to feeling anything other than ideal, even as he was fainting or in agony. He felt terrible for yelling. He reached over and gave Ben’s hand a squeeze and was rewarded with a tiny smile.
Dr. Eerin gave Ben’s arm and awkward pat. “It will get better. You need to be patient. Take it one day at a time.”
After the visit, Anakin took Ben’s hand and led him out of the clinic. “Ben, I’m sorry. I didn’t behave very well. I’ve been so worried. I wish you would have told me about your appointment though.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to burden you with all this? Who wants to be tied to a sick old man that can’t empty the dishwasher without needing a nap?” Ben replied, exasperated.
“I do! You’re my sick old man. But you’re not sick. You’re getting better.”
Ben just sighed and leaned on Anakin as they walked. Anakin had them rest for a moment on a bench in the hallway.
“Who brought you here?”
“Quinlan.” Anakin mentally added him to the list of people to murder.
“Text him and tell him I’m bringing you home,” Anakin replied.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“I took some time off. You’re important to me. Don’t you get that?” Anakin was still so frustrated. Being at the appointment had not helped.
“Oh Anakin,” Ben murmured as they reached the Jeep, seemingly at a loss for words, which was frightening.
The ride home was spent mainly in silence. When they arrived, Ben plopped down at the corner of the couch, knees drawn up to his chest. He wouldn’t look Anakin in the eye, but Anakin was stubborn too. He sat down beside Ben and put a tentative arm around him. Ben didn’t lean in, but he didn’t push him away either.
“Why don’t you talk to me? Tell me what’s wrong? If you’re not feeling well, maybe I can help?”
Ben buried his face between his knees. “Anakin, I don’t want to talk about this.”
Anakin pushed on. Ben sometimes needed a little push. “We have to though.”
“Not right now,” Ben said, pulling away.
“Yes, right now. I can’t take it anymore.”
Ben looked up at Anakin, eyes red-rimmed, expression bleak. “I’m sorry, darling. I never meant for this to be so hard on you.” He reached over and caressed Anakin’s cheek. “You look terrible.”
“What? I do not,” Anakin replied, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t turn this conversation on me. I need you. I love you. I can’t handle being in the dark.”
“I’m doing well enough.”
“That’s a lie and you know it. Don’t treat me like an idiot.”
Ben took a deep, shuddering breath and scrubbed at his eyes. “Fine. I’m so fucking tired of this. I’m so tired, Anakin. I’m so tired. I can’t do it.”
Anakin felt tears building up, hot and aching. “Yes you can. You have to,” Anakin said, pulling Ben into his arms where they both shook with sobs. ‘I couldn’t bear to lose you,’ Anakin thought.
Anakin rubbed his back as Ben buried his head against this shoulder, hating the sharpness of his spine under the soft sweater. “Keep trying until summer, baby. Give me that. We’re going to buy a house. We’re going to be together. We’re going to get a cat, remember?” Of all the stupid things he could think of to say. Oh well.
Ben made a soft snorting sound. “The cat?”
Anakin went with it. “Yup, the cat. You have to work on it. Fight until summer. It’ll be sunny and warm, and things won’t seem so bad.”
“Until summer,” Ben mumbled into Anakin’s shoulder. “I’ll try.”
It wasn’t the answer he exactly wanted, but it would have to do. “You want pizza?” It was all Anakin could think of to make things better at the moment. When he didn’t know what to do, food was the answer.
“Always,” was the muffled reply.
Things seemed generally better until a week later when Anakin was again trying to sleep but was rudely awakened by his phone ringing.
“Hello? I’m calling for Ben Kenobi? This was the other number listed in his chart.”
Anakin wasn’t sure if he should be worried or irate. “He’s not here, he supposed to be at…”
“his physical therapy appointment. We tried calling the listed number, but no one answered.”
“Of course he didn’t”
“Sir, could you have him call us to reschedule?”
“I’ll make him.”
Anakin hung up, rocket out of bed fueled by righteous rage, and threw on some random clothes. He stormed around the house, making sure Ben wasn’t hiding somewhere. Then he called.
Ben didn’t answer the first or second time, but he did the third. Anakin was full on panicking at this point.
“Anakin?” he answered innocently.
“Where exactly are you?” Anakin could hear what the low buzz of people talking, glasses clinking, something that sounded like his dad’s voice.
“Are you at the café? Really, Ben?” Anakin was really going to tear out his hair this time. Ben could have at least been a little sneakier about skipping out of his appointment.
“I wanted lemon cake.”
“YOU CAN HAVE LEMON CAKE LITERALLY ANY OTHER TIME. I WILL BAKE YOU 10 LEMON CAKES.”
“Anakin, I couldn’t bring myself to go,” he replied, sounding so defeated.
“I’m coming to get you.”
Anakin pulled up in front of the café, and Ben obediently came out, his computer bag with him. He was wearing his soft, grey coat and his cheeks were flushed with the cold. Anakin was having a hard time maintaining his anger. How he loved this man, loved him more than he could ever understand, despite the eternal frustrations. They drove home in silence again. Anakin followed Ben into the kitchen, where he was heating up water for tea.
“I’m sorry Anakin. I did promise I would try,” Ben said, while trying to find the perfect mug.
Anakin ached with worry. “Yes, you did, baby. Couldn’t you have gone at least once?”
“What does it matter?” Ben asked, now rifling violently through a drawer for the tea bag he wanted.
Anakin felt himself shaking with worry. “What in the fuck? What in the fuck do you mean?”
Ben spun around and dropped his mug on the floor, tea and ceramic going everywhere. He slid to floor, sitting back against the cabinets, ignoring his wet pants. “It doesn’t matter Anakin. I’ll just be sick again. I’ll never be well. It doesn’t matter. I just want it to be over.”
Anakin pushed mug shards out of the way and sat beside him in the growing tea puddle. He took Ben’s hand, trying to fight past his breaking heart. “It will be over. Before you know it. You can’t give up now-there’s just a little bit left.”
Ben squeezed his hand back but didn’t meet his eyes. “It feels insurmountable. Just getting out of bed.”
“That won’t last forever.”
“It feels like it will. I feel like there’s so little left of me. What I used to be.”
“You’re still you. You are still perfect as you are. I love you so much,” Anakin said, standing up and pulling Ben with him, hugging him tightly. Ben sighed and leaned into him, letting Anakin take some of his weight, and Anakin relaxed just a little. “We’ll take it an hour at a time. I will help you. You aren’t alone in this. You don’t have to be strong all on your own. Please. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for me.”
“My dear love, I’m sorry. I’m lost,” Ben murmured, cheeks tear-streaked.
Anakin stepped back and cupped his dear face in his hands. “I get it. I do. If you’re lost, I’ll find you.”
Ben’s eyes were huge and glassy. “Sweetheart…”
Anakin didn’t let him finish whatever he was going to say. “Please, please try. Tomorrow’s a new day. We’ll start again. In a few months, we’ll be in a new place. Please.”
He rubbed Ben’s cheekbones with his thumbs, studying the flecks of gold in those beautiful irises. “Try for one day. Just one day. Then maybe another. Please.”
Ben shut his eyes as tears spilled out. He leaned back against Anakin’s shoulder. “Ok. Tomorrow will be new. I will give you tomorrow.”
“But you owe me lemon cake,” Ben whispered.
“Anything you want.”
Of course Anakin would enlist Qui-Gon to take him to his physical therapy appointment, but Ben supposed it could be worse. At least Satine was out of the country with Padme. The dilapidated, blue VW bus pulled up to the front of the house, and Qui honked and waved vigorously, greying brown hair pulled up in a bun and wearing a violet, hand knit cabled sweater.
Qui-Gon hopped out of the van, wrapping Ben in a massive bear hug in the middle of the sidewalk. His presence was as it always was, warm and comforting, smelling of mint and herbs and baked goods. “Hey little ginger, we better get you in before your toes freeze off.”
Without saying anything, Qui gave him a hand and helped his decrepit self climb into the passenger seat.
“All buckled in and safe? I brought you strawberry muffins,” Qui said, pointing to a white paper bag at his feet.
Ben picked it up and inhaled their sweet aroma. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”
Qui-Gon reached over and ruffled his hair. “Yeah I did. We have to get you better. Anakin is pretty invested in you, and I am too.”
“It’s been… challenging,” Ben replied, feeling overwhelmed.
“I know. But you can do this. You determine your reality, little one. You have to choose to get better” Qui said, full of his usual wisdom.
Ben took a deep breath, unsure of what to say. He’d never had a father, and now…
“I almost brought Peaches. Thought he might help.” Peaches was an elderly, mostly blind and deaf tabby cat whose only desire in life was a warm lap. If only things were that simple.
Ben snorted. First he was going to cry, now he was going to laugh. That’s what life was, wasn’t it? He supposed he had to feel both the joy, absurdity, and the sorrow and move on. “We can’t bring a cat to rehab.”
Qui shrugged. “He has a therapeutic purr.” He pointed to a thermos sitting in the cup holder. “There’s some tea in there. Its medicinal.”
Ben wasn’t sure if he should be afraid or grateful. Thankfully, they arrived at the clinic. Qui-Gon came around the side of the van to help him out, offering his big warm hand in support. “You’re a special one, little ginger. You have a lot left to give. Let’s get you better.”
Ben nodded, still unable to come up with words and afraid of weeping again for the umpteenth time. He would keep trying, not only for Anakin and his little family, but for himself. After grinning at him and squeezing his shoulder, Qui-Gon followed Ben to the waiting area, with a massive bag of yarn, and commenced crocheting scarves. Life would go on.