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Obi-Wan: Send me to kill the emperor. I will not kill Anakin.
Yoda: To fight this lord Sideous, strong enough you are not.
Obi-Wan: He is like my brother. I cannot do it.
The collection cluster listed, closer and closer to the surface of the lava river, and Obi-Wan tried not to look down— well, not any more than he had to. Anakin was right behind him, slashing up towards his legs and driving him further up the spire. It was a more comfortable position for Anakin, but Obi-Wan blocked his strikes with relative ease. They were sloppy, obvious. Not Anakin’s best work.
The spire leaned further, and the lava fall approached. If they fell, together, it would all be over, but as much as Obi-Wan wanted to give up, he knew Anakin wouldn’t, so he jumped.
For a moment, standing on the floating platform he had aimed for, Obi-Wan thought Anakin was going to fall into the lava with the collection cluster— that he had been too consumed by his hate to notice his surroundings after all— but at the last moment, Anakin leapt from the collection cluster, spinning through the air with a strength and agility Obi-Wan had never before seen in him.
Anakin landed, balancing on a worker droid and advancing towards Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan had apologized. He had pleaded. He had reasoned. None of it was enough. As they locked sabers again, he was close enough to look into Anakin’s glowing, yellow eyes.
There was still good in him. There had to be. Obi-Wan just couldn’t reach it.
He warned him, but Anakin made the jump anyway, either not remembering where he had learned that trick or too arrogant to care. The slice was easy: just a flick of the wrist. Obi-Wan knew exactly when he would twist in the air, exactly where his legs and the arm that held his lightsaber would be. And the rest of Anakin’s body tumbled down the bank.
Obi-Wan never took satisfaction in killing, not even Sith Lords. Not even Grievous. It wasn’t the Jedi way. But it didn’t normally feel this bad, this—
Had he done the right thing? Was he doing the right thing?
It was too late either way. The fight was over. He turned off his saber and put it away. He had won, even if it didn’t feel like it. He couldn’t help pleading with Anakin one last time. “You were the chosen one.” The hand Obi-Wan had left attached to Anakin’s body scrabbled in the dirt. “It was said you would destroy the sith, not join them.” Anakin wasn’t listening. Anakin never listened. “Bring balance to the force, not leave it in darkness.” Even as Anakin ignored him, a wild part of Obi-Wan thought maybe it wasn’t too late, maybe now that Anakin had lost he would be willing to listen to reason, maybe they could get to a medical center on time, maybe Obi-Wan didn’t need to kill him. But Anakin wasn’t. And Obi-Wan did.
He picked up Anakin’s lightsaber. He remembered when Anakin had built it. He had been proud of the speed and skill with which Anakin assembled it, so much faster than his first. He had always been a quick learner.
“I hate you,” Anakin screamed, and in that moment, he reminded Obi-Wan of a child, face screwed up in rage over some perceived injustice. Obi-Wan tried not to let it hurt him, he knew it was the dark side speaking, but he couldn’t help but turn back.
“You were my brother, Anakin.” His voice broke. “I loved you.” Yoda had been right. There was no trace of Anakin left in this man who shared his face and his training and his memories. Obi-Wan was attached: unable to let go of a man who was already gone. He had been blinded by his love; he had been unable to see what Anakin was turning into before his eyes. He had allowed Anakin’s friendship with the chancellor to grow. He had ignored Anakin’s relationship with Padmé, even though it flagrantly broke the Jedi Code, and he would have been a hypocrite to do anything else. He had done exactly what that portion of the Jedi Code was meant to prevent: he had protected one man at the expense of trillions.
But in the end, he still couldn’t bring himself to kill the man wearing Anakin’s face. He left him lying on the bank of the river of fire, the smell of singed flesh lingering in the air.
The man who looked like Anakin would die either way, he knew, and Anakin was already gone. It made no difference whether or not he swung the blade himself.
But he couldn’t. So Obi-Wan walked away. He left Darth Vader to succumb to the flame and ash.
And then, of course, he didn’t. Obi-Wan couldn’t meet Yoda’s amber eyes, when they learned, couldn’t bear to see the pity in them. “I’m sorry,” he said. Sorry for letting the green creature down. Sorry for condemning the galaxy to darkness. Sorry to Anakin, for failing him yet again.