Chapter Text
Anakin barreled onto the gleaming silver starship, stumbling over his words as well as his feet as he screamed and pointed, incoherently trying to spur the Padawan staring at him incredulously into action to save Qui-Gon. He pointed behind himself insistently, to where Qui-Gon was locked in combat with the cloaked figure that had chased them across the dunes of Tatooine.
Luckily, it seemed that Anakin's blubbering had finally broke through to the young man, who raced into the cockpit, giving the order to take off. The pilot acted at once, steering the ship toward the duel, lowering the ramp as they approached. Anakin's heart raced, thumping in time with his footsteps as he raced toward the belly of the ship. The Padawan was hot on his heels, and Anakin hoped against all hope that the Jedi had survived.
He rounded the corner, a sense of relief washing over him as he saw Qui-Gon sprawled on the floor, exhausted yet in one piece.
"Are you alright?" He asked as he knelt next to the Jedi. He felt lightheaded, blood still rushing in his ears as Qui-Gon sat up, heaving for air.
"I think so," Qui-Gon replied.
"What was it?" The Padawan asked.
Qui-Gon's expression was drawn as he replied. "I'm not sure, but it was well trained in the Jedi arts. My guess is, it was after the Queen."
"What are we gonna do about it?" Anakin was terrified. If that thing had been strong enough to wear out a Jedi Master, he hesitated to think on what it could have done to him had he been alone.
"We should be patient," Qui-Gon said, and then leaned forward. "Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi." He gestured between them, and the Padawan extended a hand for Anakin to shake.
Obi-Wan Kenobi. Why was that name familiar?
Blue eyes met, and as their hands touched, it was as if the floor had fallen from beneath his feet.
The Jedi Master watched his two charges in alarm as they slumped to the ground, eyes rolling back into their heads, while Artoo screamed.
Around them, the Force became near-tangible maelstrom. He had never once felt anything like it. He reached toward his bond with his Padawan.
A terrible feeling settled within him as he realized the bond had gone silent. His gaze turned to his young charge.
"Anakin?" He said uselessly, feeling for the child's pulse. It was there, in fact, his heart seemed fit to burst out of his chest. He lay his fingers on Obi-Wan's neck, and found the same.
The Force sang sweetly, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not break through its winds to reach either of them.
The Force swelled like a wave, crashing over Obi-Wan and plunging him into darkness.
He saw nothing.
The Padawan reached out with the Force, scanning is surroundings, but there was only emptiness.
As if he were adrift in the vacuum between stars.
Panic curled in his chest, and he closed his eyes, releasing it into the Force with a breath.
Searching his mind, he found a small, unfamiliar tether at the edge, barely-there. As he brushed against it, another spike of fear shot through him. How odd.
"Hello?" He called into the nothingness, not particularly expecting a response. The void swallowed his words, leaving not even the barest hint of an echo.
This must be a Force vision, he thought, but of what?
He tried to turn, though it was impossible to tell if he were truly moving or not. The void did not change, it was simply there.
Just within his periphery, a blue glow sprang into being. He spun toward it, heart pounding in his chest. He was too distracted to attempt to purge his rising anxiety.
The glow materialized into a thread, coiling gently toward him.
His eyes narrowed. Feeling it through the Force, there was something about it… something wrong.
He tried to move away from it, but found that he could not.
As the tendril slowly reached out to touch him, its cool embrace washed over him like a stream of water. A burst of Force energy bled out of it into him, and with it came a barrage of emotions not his own.
A chasm of guilt opened in his chest. In its depths, a soul-crushing grief devoured everything around it like a black hole.
"I have failed you, Anakin. I have failed you."
Obi-Wan froze as he recognized the disembodied voice that now echoed in his mind.
"You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!"
His own voice, ragged and broken, shouted. That black hole in his chest grew as a terrible realization dawned on him. Anakin Fell? The boy? He knew Qui-Gon believed in prophecy, and that Anakin's midi-chlorian count was the highest ever recorded. His Master's intent was to see the boy trained as a Jedi, but if he were doomed to Fall…?
"You were my brother, Anakin." Terrible, unknowable pain tore through him. "I loved you."
The words washed over him. What?
He attempted to shake the tendril free. Perhaps if he managed to dislodge it, the voices, the endless onslaught of pain and suffering and guilt would end.
Yet as he shook his arm, the tendril only tightened.
"I am not your failure, Obi-Wan." This second voice was new, a painful wheeze present between the syllables. Unfamiliar as it was, it still twisted his heart into knots.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find his center, to release these horrible feelings into the Force.
But there… A single, gently flickering flame, bright as a star, danced at the edge of the event horizon. It twinkled at him, stubbornly refusing to disappear into the maw of grief and guilt.
As he inspected it, its warmth radiated through him.
"You are strong and wise, Anakin, and I am very proud of you." His disembodied voice said warmly. A sharp departure from the shame and grief, yet… Jedi were not supposed to show such attachment. "I have trained you since you were a small boy. I have taught you everything I know. And you have become a far greater Jedi than I could ever hope to be."
He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat as the flame grew into a tiny sun, orbiting the black hole.
Its golden-red glow sang a dirge so sweetly, radiating hope and love despite its desolate surroundings.
Seemingly satisfied, the thread released him.
His mind quieted, the black hole and tiny sun not gone, but subdued.
He opened his eyes, and the light returned.
Anakin jolted upright, a thick, oppressive fog shrouding his surroundings. Screams and explosions echoed in the distance, but no matter how hard he looked, whether he squinted his eyes or opened them as wide as they would go, he saw nothing.
Fear crawled up the back of his neck like a spider.
Something whizzed past his ear, flying off far into the distance. He whirled, trying to locate the source of the object, but still, nothing revealed itself to him.
"Hello?" He called, trembling as he took a half-step forward. His voice echoed, but it was quickly drowned by the din. The sound of armored footsteps grew closer, and Anakin spun once more, desperately trying to orient himself.
The sound of footsteps began to fade, and he tried to chase after them. The screaming grew louder too, but still, nothing. It was all nothing.
He stopped, crouching and burying his face in his knees, cradling his head with his arms to try and block out the sounds that surrounded him.
A thin blue tendril sprang into view, its cool, calming touch soothing him. As the tendril wrapped around him, the sounds began to fade, and the fog began to dissipate. Instead of fog, there was simply a dark void, like empty space.
But then, the soothing calm turned constricting, and panic welled in his chest and he struggled to break free. Just as he thought it was too late, the thread snapped. He fell to the ground hard, wheezing as the air was knocked out of him.
Muffled voices returned, just barely unintelligible. They sounded as if they were arguing. Anakin pushed himself to his knees, tears welling in his eyes. He just wanted to go home.
He squeezed his eyes shut as a storm of emotions roiled around him. The last thing he had seen before being taken to this strange place was the Padawan.
Obi-Wan Kenobi. Stars, that name was familiar. Why? Who was Obi-Wan?
The voices grew louder, yet still Anakin could not understand. Hot tears slipped from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. He clenched his fists, squeezing his fingernails into his palms.
Suddenly, one voice broke through as the tendril returned, circling around his ankle. This time, it was warm like the Tatooine sun, and the male voice sounded like his mother's did when she bragged about his skill.
"You are strong and wise, Anakin, and I am very proud of you. I have trained you since you were a small boy. I have taught you everything I know. And you have become a far greater Jedi than I could ever hope to be."
The words echoed in his head. It sounded oddly familiar. A flame of hope burned in his chest as they sank in. Not only had he become a Jedi, but he'd been a great one.
But, why wasn't it Qui-Gon's voice saying those things? Qui-Gon had said he was going to train him. Had something happened?
The flame flickered out, and the dark embrace of fear returned.
The same voice now screamed at him. "You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!"
The anger and pain in those words scared him terribly. He joined the Sith? No, that wasn't true. He was going to be a Jedi! He'd promised his mother!
A crushing guilt overwhelmed him. He hadn't meant for it to end like this.
He shook his head, confused.
"You were my brother, Anakin." The voice broke, and he felt that same twinge of grief in his own heart. "I loved you."
A sob ripped its way out from his throat, echoing in the void as shame burned hot in his cheeks.
He cried, overwhelmed by these foreign emotions.
"I'm sorry, Master," he wailed pitifully, words not his own, "I'm sorry…"
"I have failed you, Anakin." The voice seemed to reply. "I have failed you."
His stomach twisted. No, that wasn't true. It was his fault.
A different, darker voice retorted in his stead. "I am not your failure, Obi-Wan." It sounded like a rebuke, but beneath the harsh words, there was something… else. Like it was supposed to be a gift.
A chill ran up Anakin's spine as the thread finally released him and he opened his eyes, back on the ship once more, Obi-Wan's name echoing in his mind.
The Force storm relented suddenly, leaving a vacuum in its wake. Qui-Gon breathed sharply in relief as both Anakin and Obi-Wan gasped back into consciousness.
"What happened?" He demanded, looking to his Padawan.
But neither of them answered. Instead, Obi-Wan turned to the child, an unreadable expression on his face.
Anakin trembled like a leaf, his face ashen.
The vacuum left by the Force storm was quickly replaced by the swirling nexus of Anakin's uncontrolled emotions.
Qui-Gon nearly staggered at the weight of the fear and guilt radiating off the boy.
In the space between thoughts, as he took in this wave of dark emotion and began to open his mouth to speak, Obi-Wan moved.
He pulled the child into his arms.
Qui-Gon's mouth remained open, speechless.
"Anakin," the Padawan gasped. Anakin buried his face in Obi-Wan's tunic, harsh gasps bursting from his throat.
The Jedi Master stared. He wondered, briefly, if he'd somehow fallen into an alternate universe. What could Obi-Wan have seen to prompt such uncharacteristic… whatever was going on?
"It's not your fault," Obi-Wan's words only served to perplex Qui-Gon further, but sent Anakin into a tearful frenzy.
"No!" The boy pushed his way out of Obi-Wan's arms, face streaked with tears. "It is, Master! It's all my fault!"
Qui-Gon's eyebrows rose. Anakin was calling Obi-Wan his Master?
Obi-Wan's face contorted, recoiling from the boy as if struck. He opened his mouth to reply, but Anakin cut him off.
"I ruined everything!" The boy insisted. His next words drove an icy wedge into Qui-Gon's heart. "You said I joined the Sith!"
"What?" Qui-Gon's head spun as the word sprouted from his lips. "Anakin, where did you hear that?"
Everything came to a standstill.
"Anakin…" Obi-Wan trailed off, hands outstretched. Anakin turned from him, wrapping his arms tightly around himself.
"You never even wanted me," Anakin's face pinched, shoulders quaking.
A flare of pain through his bond with his Padawan stopped Qui-Gon in his tracks.
Obi-Wan stood, face pallid, and reached for the boy. Anakin allowed it, and Obi-Wan pulled him close, tucking the child's head firmly into his chest.
"Visions are not infallible," Obi-Wan said lamely, "and that's not true, Anakin, I…"
Anakin shook his head, despair and shame whirling around him like a sandstorm.
"Ani," Qui-Gon took advantage of his Padawan's silence, "tell me what you saw."
Instead, Obi-Wan replied.
"I believe," the Padawan said, his words heavy with exhaustion, "that we would all benefit from some time to process what we have seen, first."
Qui-Gon bit back his disappointment. His responsible Padawan had returned.
Obi-Wan was right, regardless. It was no use, with Anakin so overwhelmed, to prod and needle him any further. He released his frustration, his impatience into the Force, resolving to speak with his Padawan privately later.
"Quite so, Padawan," the Jedi knelt before Anakin as he spoke, laying a hand on the boy's back, who remained in Obi-Wan's protective grasp. "Anakin, if there's anything you need, please ask."
The boy nodded wordlessly. Qui-Gon turned to his Padawan, who seemed reluctant to release him.
Odd.
He reached through their bond, assessing. It was quite unlike Obi-Wan to be so… attached.
A buzz from Obi-Wan's commlink broke the awkward silence.
"Yes?"
Ric Olié's voice crackled through the device. "Is Master Jinn alright? We gotta get going."
Obi-Wan glanced hesitantly at his Master.
"I'm fine. Prep the hyperdrive, I'll be up shortly." Qui-Gon spoke into the commlink.
"Already done." Ric said, and the comm fell silent.