Chapter Text
He remembers screams, pain and misery. Remembers death and loss. Felt the death of the Jedi as if he was the one dying. Seen the Jedi Temple - his home, all he has ever known - destroyed, broken and on fire. It wasn't the only thing on fire. There was smoke trailing from the younlings' chests, coming from a black hole dug into their small bodies, aiming to kill. He remembers the way the Temple had felt after Order 66; tinged with grief and the Force screaming like it has been ripped apart with each step he took. It kept on screaming and tearing itself apart instead of aiming to fix the galaxy because how could it fix it when its children are gone?
Obi-Wan remembers when he walked on the bloody floors that were once shinning marble. Remembers watching the way the ash decorated the walls that were once gleaming despite their age. Remembers the disarray, the broken windows, doors and each item in the Temple laying in chaos. Chaos in a place that was only ever full of organisation. With each glance around what was once the glorious Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan's heart had burned.
But nothing could have prepared him for Mustafar. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened there. What he had done. For the person who had laid in his arms, blue eyes wide but unseeing. The matted dirty golden curls. Blood soaked clothes. Blue lips. Teeth red from choking on blood.
Mustafar is a planet that burns all the time. All day long. All night long. A planet that cannot be inhabited, no matter how much anyone tried. Even with the advanced technology of their time, it can never be liveable. It makes sense for the planet to only take from Obi-Wan. To make him suffer and see the unbearable. To spill gasoline on his heart instead of cold water. To add to the flame.
After Mustafar was a blur. He found Padmé, she did give birth to the baby before she died- babies. Because of course, when is it ever going to be easy with Anakin? He had sworn to protect them with his life. Sworn to guard them and hide them away from every danger of the world. But when he looked at them, ever so small and delicate, so defenseless and pure, he can only see the expression their father had made when he killed him. The memory had shaken him to his core. Had terrified him. Because how can they ever be alright with him around?
So he went back to the Naboo, hunted Padmé's family down and gave them the babies. Because they would be in safe hands there. They would grow up swimming in lakes and rolling around in the fields. Would learn how to braid hair and how to take care of flowers. Will have many opportunities to live and enjoy their lives without the fear that has taken over their parents and now, their supposed uncle or grandfather.
He briefly remembers Anakin's family on Tatooine and his heart burned even further to the point the taste of it reached Obi-Wan's mouth. He can never go back to them and explain how he had killed Anakin. Could never stand there and admit what he had done. He could never take the children to Tatooine, where Anakin was born and raised into slavery. Anakin would never forgive him.
You're acting like he's already forgiven you for killing him.
The thought made him numb. Because as much as he wants to grab Anakin, cry into his shoulder, scream at him, blame him, shout, sob, cry, he can't. Anakin is dead. The dead cannot hear nor be there with you. The dead remain dead. Obi-Wan would never have the privilege of ever asking for Anakin's forgiveness because Anakin isn't here.
And who's fault is that?
The thought made him snap out of his haze and rather focus on the situation at hand. He was in a forest. Something familiar about it but Obi-Wan didn't really recall the name of it. He has spent so many years living on different planets because of the war and missions.
For what? Three years of your life, the torture, the pain, the lives of your men, Anakin's life, for what? You killed Sidious, but the dead remained dead, and it didn't take anything you went through back.
His best option is to rely on the Force - as dark and unclear as it had become - and move on. Surprisingly, he felt the presence of a remarkable Force sensitive around. Someone with a bright mind and great experience. Someone with gentle warmth and a kind heart. Someone who reminded him of himself.
Obi-Wan walked towards it, his feet guiding him to the source with no real orders from his mind, just the Force speaking to him. The forest is too bushy, filled with large leaves that cover the entire path but he is so sure that the person who is behind that oddly familiar presence is close. From the likes of it, it seems to be that the Force sensitive is also aware of him, if the footsteps coming his way are any indication.
Closer and closer, Obi-Wan crept to it, cutting through the leaves with his lightsabers - he had to take Sidious', just out of spite - red and blue clashing against each other. Finally, the last leaf between them.
When Obi-Wan cut it down, he was surprised to see the face of...
Himself. But his eyes weren't golden.
They were blue.