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Anakin cried out as the force of a well-aimed slap snapped his head to the left; his vision swam and his ears rang with the thunderous sound of his own heartbeat. He wasn’t giving the Separatists any of the information they sought, but he was well past the point of remaining stubbornly silent - every part of him hurt. His bottom lip was split, his left eye was damn near close to swelling shut, and his hair was matted to his forehead with a mixture of blood and sweat. The Separatist officer in charge of his interrogation, a middle-aged man with high cheekbones and dark eyebrows, grabbed Anakin by the chin and tilted his head back at a sharp, uncomfortable angle. “They train these stolen children well on Coruscant. This one is so very resistant to my usual methods . ”
“Well he is one half of the notorious ‘Team’, Commander. Jedi General Anakin Skywalker.”
“Hmm,” the Commander used his grip on Anakin’s chin to tilt the younger man’s face back and forth, inspecting him like one would inspect an animal up for slaughter. “Not very impressive looking for someone of such high military stature.”
Using what little strength he had left, Anakin hawked a wad of spit and blood directly into the Commander’s eye. The Separatist reeled back with an undignified shriek of disdain, his hand flailing out in search of a handkerchief or towel. When he had cleaned his face and fully recovered, the Commander turned to Anakin with fury and hatred smoldering in his eyes. The prisoner couldn’t repress a small shiver at the sensation of so much malice being leveled directly at his person; even the Force seemed to shimmer with danger.
The interrogator snarled deep in his throat. “You will come to regret that decision very much, my precious Jedi.”
With a last scornful punch to Anakin’s gut, the Commander swept from the room and the doors slid shut.
Anakin tried to regain his breath as he wriggled against the Force-repressing cuffs that kept him backed against the cold wall of his cell. If he could only get a message out to Obi-Wan… If he could just brush against their bond and give his Master some small clue about his location…
He strained with all his carefully honed power, his Force signature screaming with effort as it tried to push past the energy of the heavy-duty repressors and reach Obi-Wan. Sweat poured down his forehead, stinging his eyes. His muscles felt like jelly and his lungs burned...
Nothing.
Anakin wanted to scream. Wanted to cry. But he knew that such displays of emotion were useless in the scheme of things.
The Jedi’s usually bright and busy mind felt foggy and distant in a way that was totally divorced from the effects of the inhibitor cuffs. His body was too heavy for his legs to support but his arms ached terribly against his bonds whenever he relaxed his knees. There was no comfortable way to hold himself up and no way to sink into the sweet warmth of sleep, which beckoned him with open and loving arms. The young Jedi gave a pitiful whimper of exhaustion against his will, praying desperately to whatever gods would listen that his Master would find him soon. Or anyone, for that matter. He would even be happy if Master Windu pulled him out of this mess, glaring and lecturing and all.
But such daydreams and prayers weren’t going to save his hide. In reality he was the captive of some minor Separatist Commander, constantly being put through an endless cycle of interrogation and torture as they strove to break him down. The Commander and his cronies had tried so many different tactics already; beating him bloody and then kicking at his ribcage once he hit the ground - only to lock him back up without treatment, playing well-edited and highly realistic clips depicting the deaths of his friends and fellow Jedi Knights, and depriving of him of his senses only to turn the Force blockers in the room to their maximum setting. This last method drove him near-mad with the absence of everything… No light, no sound, not even the whispering Force presence he was allowed with the cuffs attached: Anakin could only scream out into the emptiness and hope it ended soon.
Caught up in his endless misery, Anakin couldn’t even remember how long it had been since his initial capture.
All the Jedi knew for certain was that he was still damnably conscious, desperate to be allowed some sleep. Desperate to let his mind rest. Desperate to dream of Obi-Wan, perhaps for the last time...
“After your little display the other day-” the Commander sneered, pacing back and forth before his prisoner. “-I’ve decided to end this entire debacle for good. I don’t really intend to ransom you back to those Republic bastards and I don’t want to deal with your General Kenobi coming to look for you, so we’ll make this speedy and get you nice and disposed of, alright?”
Anakin nodded stupidly, barely aware of what had been said.
The Commander laughed mockingly and patted Anakin on the head, “Good boy, Skywalker. Now stay still and take your medicine.”
“My wha?” Anakin’s hazy vision barely managed to focus on the approaching medical droid. In its careful metal grip was a hypodermic needle, glinting in the bright lights of his cell - the Jedi began to panic despite his exhaustion. He twisted and turned weakly in an attempt to move away from the needle, but his strength was gone and there was nothing he could do to stop the brief pinch as it broke his skin. “Wha’s that?”
“It could be called a truth serum, I suppose. We’re still working on the exact formula, you see, so it might have some unintended side effects. Not that it matters, because you’ll be buried by the time any such side effects may arise.”
Anakin felt a damp warmth spreading down his cheeks and realized - belatedly - that he was crying. Obi-Wan, he screamed into the Force. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I love you, I’m-
Just as a strange, molten heat began to spread behind his eyes, Anakin heard the distant sound of frantic laser fire and pounding footsteps. He smirked up at the Commander as his vision blurred even further, leaving the room a mess of bleary colors. “Tol’ ya he’d f’nd me.”
Just as the Commander raised his hand to strike Anakin across the face, the door burst open in a spray of sparks. An Obi-Wan shaped smudge stood proud and perfect at the center of it all, outlined from behind by smoke and the light of blaster bolts. Anakin laughed deliriously and sagged forward in relief. “Obi! ‘M here!”
The Commander screamed in rage but didn’t make it two steps in the Jedi’s direction before Obi-Wan dispatched his spirit into the Force.
Anakin didn’t really remember what happened after the Commander’s body hit the smooth duracrete floor, only that the weight of the suppressors disappeared from around his wrists and the sensation of the Force flowing back back into his mind and soul was overwhelming. There was the dull thud of his body crumpling to a heap before Obi-Wan’s boots… and then there was beautiful, peaceful, welcoming darkness.
---
Or he had hoped there would be darkness. As soon as he’d managed to nod off, Obi-Wan’s Force presence prodded him back to wakefulness. He groaned and buried his face in his elbow. “I w’nna sleep.”
“You can’t sleep yet, dear one,” Obi-Wan explained. He knelt at Anakin’s side and slid one arm beneath the younger Jedi’s knees and the other beneath his back. He hefted the taller man into his arms with ease and grace, frowning almost cutely when Anakin made a soft noise of discomfort. “What hurts?”
The heat behind Anakin’s eyes flashed and he answered quickly: “M’ ribs.”
“I’ll have to give you a full medical exam once we’re safely out of the atmosphere.”
“Mhm,” was all Anakin could manage in reply. The older Jedi frowned and Anakin whined pitifully - he didn’t like it when Obi-Wan frowned. “Wha’s wrong?”
“I should have gotten here sooner. I shouldn’t have let you take that solo mission in the first place!” Anakin had never seen his Master look so upset before. It was nearly breathtaking. “I know that you’re more than capable of handling these things on your own most of the time, and it’s not an issue of trust in the slightest, I just don’t- I worry about you, Anakin. You tend to rush headfirst into trouble.”
The topic of conversation was the only thing keeping Anakin conscious and he clung to his last shreds of energy to get him through. “Sav’d me.”
“Well of course,” Obi-Wan snorted. “I certainly wasn’t going to let them kill you.”
“Thanks.”
“Stay awake just a few more minutes, Ani, and then you can rest for as long as you’d like.”
“Alright.” Anakin struggled to keep his eyes open, but he somehow managed. The strength of Obi-Wan’s concern buoyed him through.
“Hnuh?” Anakin mumbled. His eyes fluttered open slowly, appreciative of the dim lighting in the room. Obi-Wan’s room, he realized, on the Negotiator. His voice was raspy and high when he whispered, “Obi-Wan?”
“Hush, dear one,” his former Master murmured. A cool hand came to rest on Anakin’s forehead and he sighed in contentment. That felt nice. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Anakin felt the unstoppable urge to tell Obi-Wan the truth . The entire truth, without sparing a solitary detail. The serum was working, Anakin realized faintly. And then words came tumbling from his mouth, one after the other, scurrying past each other in an effort to be heard: “I was captured some time ago but I don’t remember how long I’ve been in their custody. They wouldn’t let me sleep and my cell didn’t have any windows, so I’m unsure how many days have passed. The Commander of the unit tortured me-” he went on to describe the various horrors he had been subjected to in a calm and matter-of-fact voice “-and here we are now, heading back to Coruscant?”
“Y-Yes, we’re returning to Coruscant,” Obi-Wan’s face had been contorted into a mask of anguish for the majority of Anakin’s story. The younger Jedi watched as it morphed into something different once he’d finished, an emotion that Anakin recognized but couldn’t quite place. His beloved Master let fly a slew of words, each one steeped in that silly, adorable accent. “We’ll get you the medical attention you need as soon as we land. I’ll even sneak you a packet of cookies while you’re stuck in the medbay, how about that? I’m so sorry that this happened, I’m so sorry- You poor thing, oh Anakin. ”
“I’m okay.”
“Are you truly okay?” his Master frowned.
Anakin tried to bite his lip but the answer was torn from him regardless: “No.”
Obi-Wan suddenly understood what was going on. “The truth serum they dosed you with… is it working?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll refrain from asking you any more questions, then.”
“It’s fine, really,” Anakin smirked, trying to bring some kind of normalcy back to their conversation. He sensed an unusual tenseness in the Force between them and it worried him deeply. “I can handle a few simple questions from you, General Kenobi .”
“Oh, can you? Can you withstand a Jedi interrogation, Anakin?”
“Pft, yeah. I’ve gotten away with so much shi-” he clamped a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening. Obi-Wan laughed and Anakin’s soul grew effervescent with the sound.
“Did you steal my favorite tunic when you turned eighteen, Anakin? The blue silk one that I risked going all the way to Corellia to purchase?”
Anakin blushed brightly. “Yes.”
Obi-Wan raised a curious eyebrow and asked the question Anakin had feared would be next. “Why?”
“It smelled like you. I was moving into my own quarters for the first time and I was terrified. I hated being alone. I didn’t want to move out of our shared apartments and down two hallways - your Force signature was going to feel so distant. All I could think to do was steal your tunic… I wore it to sleep until there were too many holes for it to be repaired.”
“Now you can ask me a question,” Obi-Wan said. His voice was even and strong but his eyes were watering slightly. Anakin wondered why - it wasn’t like Obi-Wan had feelings for him. That would be silly; he was a nuisance, a thorn in his former Master’s side that always needed to be guided or scolded or rescued. Obi-Wan was worthy of so much more. He was worthy of competence, of excellence, even brilliance! His spiral into self-loathing was halted by Obi-Wan. “Anakin? Please, dear one, can you think of a question for me?”
“Why did you get so upset when that tunic went missing?”
Now it was Obi-Wan’s turn to flush a light shade of pink. The older Jedi rubbed his left hand up and down his opposite bicep awkwardly. “Because I had gone all the way to Corellia to find a silk tunic that perfectly matched the color of your eyes and then it disappeared overnight. I wanted something to remember you by since you were moving out of our rooms and into your own place. I wanted to be able to see that color as often as I usually did.”
“Oh, Obi-Wan,” Anakin gasped. He was still too weak to sit up, but he could slowly, carefully lift his hand from the bed to cup his darling Obi-Wan’s bearded jaw. He brought their foreheads together and took a long moment just to breathe in the comforting woody scent of his former Master’s homemade laundry soap. He kissed the tip of Obi-Wan’s nose and closed his eyes. I love you, he pushed through the Force. Obi-Wan’s presence grew bright with happiness and Anakin’s power only amplified things. “We’re so stupid.”
The older Jedi laughed wetly and moved to press a kiss against Anakin’s forehead. I love you, too. “Yes, dear one. We are very stupid.”
Obi-Wan settled down into the bed next to Anakin and snuggled up against the taller man’s chest. Anakin wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s shoulders and nuzzled the top of his Master’s head affectionately. “Are you glad to be out of the Halls of Healing and back in your messy, disastrous rooms, dear one?”
“Is that even a question?” the younger man rolled his eyes. “Of course I am.”
“I should have started with a more difficult question.”
“Are you trying to make sure the truth serum has cleared out of my system?”
“Well… I did have a few more questions?” Obi-Wan teased. Anakin leaned down to press a quick kiss against his beloved’s mildly chapped lips.
“What questions do you still have for me, General Kenobi?”
“Why me?”
Anakin was stunned. Completely shocked. Truly and absolutely confused by how small and nervous Obi-Wan sounded. “Wh- What do you mean by that?!”
“Why would you choose me when you’re… you ?”
“Oh, Obi-Wan,” Anakin’s heart shattered in his chest. “Because you’re brave, compassionate, and intelligent. Because you are kind when it is least deserved and patient even when you barely have the energy. Because you’re beautiful and I want to run my hands through your hair and mess it up all the time, my darling Obi.”
“Ani,” Obi-Wan chuckled, flushed red from his forehead to his collarbones. He wriggled a little before pressing a kiss to Anakin’s shoulder. “Thank you. I also find you sweet and intelligent and kind. Oh! And annoying.”
“Master!”
“Well I’m annoying too, so it works out in the end.”
“The Force is balanced.”
Obi-Wan smiled and closed his eyes. Anakin’s heartbeat echoed in his ear, strong and insistent. As determined as the man who held him tightly in his warm embrace. “Yes. It is.”