Chapter Text
Obi-Wan was gone now, but he was set to return soon.
Yes, Anakin reassured himself — his Master would come back and he wouldn’t be alone. That didn’t change the fact that he was alone now.
Anakin’s whole body trembled with residual fear from his horrible nightmare. Cortisol and adrenaline and all manner of panic-fear-anxiety ran through his bloodstream, keeping sleep at arm’s length rather than letting Anakin embrace it like an old friend.
One more night.
Anakin only had to get through one more night alone and Obi-Wan would be back.
Of course, Obi-Wan was not the person Anakin wanted most in the world. More than anything, Anakin longed for his mother. But she would not be walking through the temple doors anytime soon, so Anakin shifted his longing over to Obi-Wan instead. That, at least, made the loneliness manageable. The loneliness had an end.
A logical part of Anakin’s brain knew he could go to anyone in the temple and they would help him. They would sit by his side. Guide him through meditation. Talk to him and listen when he talked back. Obi-Wan had told him as much. His Master had encouraged him to seek out other Jedi, even when Obi-Wan was there because it was “a good idea to round out his training.” But Anakin didn’t want any of them. He wanted familiar. He wanted comfort. He wanted Obi-Wan. So Anakin settled for the next best thing.
Anakin padded from his own room to Obi-Wan’s. The room was dark, save the glow of Coruscant’s light pollution stubbornly breaking through the slits in the blinds on the window. It was difficult to see, but the dark had never been a problem for Anakin. He could get around just fine in the absence of light.
He navigated through the room before he paused. What was he doing here? It’s not like Obi-Wan was going to magically appear under the covers of his perfectly made bed – asleep and lost in a dream that would hopefully be kinder to him than Anakin’s had been. But then, Anakin’s eyes fell on Obi-Wan’s desk chair, where one of his many robes was draped over the back. Anakin gravitated to it, as if Obi-Wan’s presence still lingered on the worn material. Maybe it did. The robe was a comfort – thick and soft and warm, despite lacking a body to warm it. Anakin wrapped it around himself before making his way to Obi-Wan’s bed. He undid the perfectly pressed duvet and sheets and curled himself into them.
Anakin took a deep breath in and centered himself around the soothing scent of pine and soap that accompanied his Master and was left behind in the fabrics he spent the most time in.
A deep breath in. A deep breath out.
The nightmare still flashed behind his eyes, refusing to fade in the same way the good dreams always seemed want to do. He remembers running and desperation. He remembers seeking Obi-Wan in a moment of unbridled panic and being unable to find him. The dream hadn’t been altogether that different from his current situation, though his current situation lacked the undercurrent of urgency that his mind conjured for him in his dreams. Still, he found himself with tears rolling down his cheeks, leaving wet imprints in Obi-Wan’s pillow.
After a time, the panic and fear receded just enough for sleep to once again claim its target. Anakin breathed in the scent of his master – the scent of his home – and Anakin drifted.
Obi-Wan’s shoulders sagged under the weight of his backpack and everything else. Weariness pulled his shoulders down more often than not these days and now was no exception. He had at long last returned, albeit a day earlier than anticipated, but that hardly mattered. He was exhausted all the same. One more day would not have made a significant difference. Even still, Obi-Wan was glad to be home. He’d been away from it too long – away from Anakin too long as well. His new Padawan was still adjusting to his new life and Obi-Wan hated leaving him at such a pivotal moment in his adjustment period, but orders were orders.
Obi-Wan had left Coruscant to go handle a trade dispute far away in the outer rim a week and a half ago. He handled it, but the handling left him exhausted and the return flight left him weary. More than anything, he wanted to shower and remove the grime of travel from his body, but his desire to sleep was outweighing his desire for perfect hygiene at the moment.
Obi-Wan shuffled to his room, his feet dragging along the floor in protest at still being in use. The room didn’t yet feel entirely like Obi-Wan’s. Qui-Gon’s presence still lingered in every little crevice and contour in their small apartment, but it was most prominent here. He sighed and waved his hand to turn on the lamplight and jumped. Obi-Wan was surprised to see his Padawan, curled up and asleep in his bed.
Anakin stirred at the sudden light and blinked his eyes open. “Master?” Anakin said groggily before the fog in his eyes cleared. “Master!”
“Hello, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said a little tightly. Obi-Wan’s patience for his Padawan’s antics was thinner than usual at the moment, and at the moment, Anakin was sitting in between Obi-Wan and his much-longed-for sleep.
“Anakin, what are you doing in my bed?” Obi-Wan fought to keep the annoyance from his voice, but he wasn’t all that successful.
“I’m sorry, Master,“ Anakin said quickly.
Obi-Wan took a closer look at his Padawan. He wore an oversized robe. No, it wasn’t oversized, it was just oversized on Anakin because the robe itself belonged to Obi-Wan. The brown robe seemed to swallow Anakin, much like soil swallows a seed. Only Anakin’s head poked out and was available for view.
“And what are you doing in my robe?”
Anakin’s lower lip wobbled and it was only then that Obi-Wan noticed the trace remains of tear tracks on Anakin’s cheeks and the slight puffiness around his eyes.
“Are you alright, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, placing a hand on the boy’s forehead. “Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine, Master.”
“No, I don’t think you are,” Obi-Wan said slowly. “What’s wrong, Anakin?”
Anakin wouldn’t look Obi-Wan in the eyes. “I had a bad dream,” Anakin admitted after a moment’s silence.
Obi-Wan sighed and kicked off his boots. He shucked his current robe off and tossed it so that it lay draped over his desk chair.
“Move over,” Obi-Wan said in a tone that left no room for questions or disagreement. Anakin shifted farther into Obi-Wan’s bed, giving Obi-Wan space to sit by Anakin’s side. “Now tell me about your dream, Padawan.”
And all at once, the words tumbled from Anakin’s mouth.
“You were gone,” Anakin said. “You were gone and I couldn’t find... but I needed you but you… you weren’t there...”
“Shhh, it’s alright,” Obi-Wan whispered, rubbing the child’s back in a way he hoped was calming. He tried to send waves of comfort and security through their brand new bond, but he wasn’t entirely sure how effective he was.
“I couldn’t find you.”
By the end of it all, Anakin was sobbing, his shoulders shook and fat tears rolled down his face.
“Shhh it’s alright now,” Obi-Wan soothed. “I’m here now.”
Obi-Wan let the boy cry into his chest until the shaking of his shoulders subsided. Anakin’s breathing evened out and Obi-Wan knew the boy had cried himself to sleep. Obi-Wan adjusted him so that he was laying down comfortably – he lacked the energy to carry him to his own room. With a wave of his hand, Obi-Wan shut off the lamplight and settled in next to his Padawan.
They both had some sleep to catch up on.