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Obi-Wan is not to be alone for the next few weeks.
It is only with great reluctance that Vokara Che releases him into Anakin’s custody, and Anakin pretends not to sense the pity and sorrow that color her Force signature when she does. He brings Obi-Wan back to their quarters, and he tries. Force, does he try.
Some days, he fears that something is irreparably broken in his master.
All his life, Obi-Wan had been a small sun in his own right in the Force, warm, bright, immeasurably comforting. Now, it is as though clouds cover that sun, stubborn and immovable. Try as they might, it is all too rare these days to catch a glimpse of the sun’s rays.
And it isn’t just his Force signature that has changed. He is even quieter than he had been the first time around. He seems to want for nothing, or at least he will not ask for it. He rarely meditates on his own. He does not sleep through the night, either, and instead tends to spend a few hours passed out on the couch each afternoon. It as though, with his release from the Halls, he has turned on autopilot, and Anakin doesn’t know how to pull him back.
The one exception is the day that Cody comes by, and not in a good way.
It had been his first time visiting since he’d stayed in the Halls with Obi-Wan. Anakin now fears it will be his last.
Although, under the influence of drugs, Obi-Wan had been thrilled to see Cody, it had evidently been just that — the influence of drugs.
Obi-Wan had taken one look at his commander and begun to hyperventilate, fingers tightening around his datapad until his knuckles had turned white, and Anakin had been afraid he would hurt himself. Anakin himself had been frozen momentarily to the spot, riveted by the sudden image of a cliff face shattering before him, a cannon blast, a — and by the time he had fully processed that this had been Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan projecting, Cody had been out the door and the datapad had been in pieces on the floor. It had been all he could do to go to Obi-Wan and hold him, let his own signature crest over him in soothing waves until his master could breathe.
Some days, Anakin feels that everything that’s gone wrong is his fault.
Some days — most days — he feels that way.
But his mind healer, a Twi'lek with gentle eyes and a soft voice, tells him that isn’t so.
“No one else blames you. Why are you so harsh on yourself?”
He isn’t often sure that he believes her, but it’s nice to hear. She places most of the blame on the Chancellor — and, though the reminder causes his gut to churn, he can accept that. They spend a great deal of time in meditation, examining Anakin’s ruined mindscape, coming up with ways to salvage it. She listens. They talk about the Chancellor’s manipulation, about Shmi Skywalker, about Obi-Wan, about Anakin’s anger.
He wishes that Obi-Wan would see someone, too. But his master has shut down, and Vokara Che is reluctant to force him into something he doesn’t want to do. She says that it will do little good to force him, and Anakin knows that she’s right. So they all try to help his master in other ways, small ways, though he never knows if it will help Obi-Wan in the long term.
He does his best to draw his master into meditation, though it has never come easily to him. Ahsoka continuously tries to draw him into conversation. Dex keeps their kitchen stocked at all times (less helpful than one might imagine, given how greasy his food is, but none of them would dream of complaint). Bail coaxes him out into the city. Mace reads to him.
It frustrates him that Obi-Wan can’t seem to see how loved he is, and Anakin just —
No. He’s angry at the wrong person. His healer would tell him that. They speak often of his anger, and she tells him the fact that he can recognize irrationality at all is progress.
This line of thought comes to a halt as he reaches the door to their quarters and promptly comes to a startling realization —
Obi-Wan’s shields are lowered.
Not much. Most wouldn’t notice, but it’s enough, and it’s for him. That much, he can tell. As he presses the keypad and the doors slide open, Anakin finds himself scrambling to read the bond.
Mace is here. Obi-Wan is feeling overwhelmed.
Too… loud, the bond is telling him, and Anakin’s brow furrows for a moment before he realizes that his master is overwhelmed. This happens often as of late, and Obi-Wan is always too polite to tell his company.
“I’m back,” he announces as he steps into the room, and as he had suspected, it is enough. Mace stretches and rises, giving Obi-Wan a pat on the shoulder. Yes, the older man is notably out of sorts, though Mace doesn’t comment.
“Just in time, Skywalker.” Some things never change. Though they’ve put their differences aside, Mace is none too keen on much time in Anakin’s company. “ I’ve got Council business to attend to,” he says, and Anakin pretends not to notice the way Obi-Wan’s shoulders slump, if only slightly. He knows that it bothers his master, being on leave from the council. Obi-Wan seems to understand their reasoning, most of the time, but sometimes he faults himself for it — sometimes he needs a reminder.
Anakin is fine with being that reminder for him.
He bids Mace goodbye and comes to sit on the couch at Obi-Wan’s side, holding an arm. Obi-Wan’s hesitation is hardly noticeable before he says into Anakin’s side, letting out a trembling breath.
“What’s wrong?” Anakin asks quietly, rubbing a hand over his arm.
A minuscule shrug. “I suppose I just missed you.”
Yeah, he’d thought as much, and it worries him, a little. That’s another thing that’s only gotten worse — the separation anxiety. It’s also one of the things that Obi-Wan doesn’t often want to talk about. That he brings it up comes as a surprise.
“Well, I’ve just been with the mind healer,” Anakin says with forced lightness, and Obi-Wan snuggles in a bit closer. New worry blooms in his stomach, though this has become the norm. He can’t help it. Again, he finds himself biting down on the urge to suggest that Obi-Wan reconsider seeing someone. “But I’m all yours for the rest of the day, Master. You’ll be sick of me in a few hours, I’m sure.”
“I’m tired of feeling this way..” The admission is so small, so soft, that it takes a moment to register what had been said. Obi-Wan is rubbing at his eyes, and Anakin tightens his hold reflexively.
“You — What?”
“I’m tired.” Something shifts in the Force, nearly imperceptible at first, and then Anakin recognizes the swell of anxiety. “I - I’m so tired.”
“Hey, hey, calm down.” His own panic stirring in the pit of his stomach, Anakin gets his mech arm around Obi-Wan too, holding him tight. “Breathe, Master. Can you breathe for me?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did it again. It was selfish. I shouldn’t have tried to leave you - I shouldn’t have tried to get out of it - “
“Master!”
“But I shouldn’t be here, either.” And Obi-Wan begins to cry, trembling in Anakin’s hold. Anakin thumbs away his tears, feeling more and more helpless by the second.
But is it terrible that he’s almost glad? This is the closest they’ve come to honesty since…
“Everyone has to take time out of their lives to be here with me so that I don’t try again.” Obi-Wan’s voice is scarcely above a whisper, and the pain in it is enough to break Anakin’s heart. “It was bad enough when I was only inconveniencing you, but now… now it’s everyone, and I… I won’t do it again, I wish - but I won’t -“
He wishes it had worked. That’s what he isn’t saying. It’s broadcasting over the bond, clear as day.
“You aren’t inconveniencing anyone, Master.” His mech hand comes to grasp Obi-Wan’s chin in an attempt to force his master to meet his eyes. It doesn’t work, not really. Obi-Wan is crying, crying, crumbling to pieces all over again, and Anakin isn’t even sure if the words are getting through, but they must be said.
If he has to say them a thousand times, he will.
“Everyone is here because they love you, Obi-Wan.” And, giving up, he draws Obi-Wan close again, tucking his master under his chin. “I love you. Ahsoka loves you, Bail loves you, even kriffing Windu is here because he loves you. I don’t care how many times I have to say it to get it through your thick skull.”
Something collapses inside him. His own tears begin to fall, and he hugs Obi-Wan closer still.
“It’s alright, Master. You can cry as much as you need to, and I’m not… I’m not letting you go. You’ll never have to feel alone again.”