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He hasn’t been himself. Not for a very long time. He tries to think of the last time he knew who he was– he can’t remember. He knows that the way he acts now scares Obi Wan. He wants to tell him he’s sorry for worrying him, but Anakin’s lost count of the number of times he’s said sorry by now. He still doesn’t forgive himself for all he’s done to Obi Wan. All he’s put him through. He has a scar for each of the things he did wrong.
He still sees them– still hears them. The exploding fear in their eyes. The screams that ripped and clawed its way out of their throats. It’s been so long but he remembers every detail of those he was responsible for. He has scars for all of them. Give him a name and he’ll point to the line on his wrist or his arm or his thigh.
He’s filled with Bad Blood.
It’s dark and angry as it paints its crimson color against Anakin’s skin. He lets out shaky, uneven breathes as it flows out of him and slides down his arm. He’s working his way through it. Bit by bit, he’s cleansing his Bad Blood away with a razor blade.
Obi Wan catches him sometimes. At first, he begged Anakin to stop– to talk to him and let him help. Anakin shook his head and calmly told him talking would not purge him of his Bad Blood. Now if Obi Wan finds him, he’s quiet as he wipes the blood from Anakin’s body and gently bandages his cuts until they close over into scars.
He knows how much he still hurts others. Even though he marks his skin with his mistakes– even though he punishes himself for all he’s done. He’s still filled with so much Bad Blood. He hates himself for it. Anakin’s caught the gleam of sorrowful tears that shine in Obi Wan’s eyes more than once. And when he does, he goes in the ‘fresher and he neatly slices open his skin and he drains away his Bad Blood.