Chapter Text
Anakin Skywalker had never been very good at resting. Even in death, apparently.
He stood, if you could call it standing, in this place that wasn't a place, in this existence that wasn't quite existence, watching as Obi-Wan smiled at Luke. His former master's ghost, translucent and serene, gazed upon Anakin’s son with pride.
He should hate me, Anakin thought. After everything I did to him, he should hate me. But he doesn't. He never did.
That was the thing about Obi-Wan. He loved too much. Forgave too easily. Always saw the best in people, even when they'd proven they didn't deserve it.
He'd seen the best in Anakin. Right up until the very end.
And what had Anakin given him in return? Lies. Betrayal. Death.
Something in Anakin broke.
"It should have been you,” Anakin blurted, words coming out before he could stop them. His eyes blurred with tears he didn’t think he could still cry. “You’d have never fallen.”
The Force swirled around them, stirred by their Chosen One's anguish. “You would have been a better chosen one.”
Obi-Wan gave a bark of laughter. It was sharp, surprised, and utterly devoid of humor in a way that had Anakin tensing as his Master said, "The Force's reject? Hardly."
Swirls of energy came to a crashing halt as both the Force and Anakin stared at him in abject horror.
"Wh-how can you say that?" Anakin stammered. He didn't know what was worse. The look on Obi-Wan's face, that familiar, weary expression of disbelief, or the words that soon followed.
"Really, Anakin, it's quite obvious. From the time I was a youngling, Qui-Gon sensed that I was destined to fall, but really I think he was seeing how I was destined to bring about the fall of everyone around me.”
Anakin opened his mouth to interrupt, but Obi-Wan kept going.
"On Bandomeer, I got in the way which lead to Xanatos escaping. And Bruck—" His voice cracked. "I couldn’t save him. He fell because of me. And then Melida/Daan.” He laughed bitterly.
Images bled into the force, giving Anakin a first hand view of Qui-Gon turning his back on Obi-Wan, leaving him there. In a war where children were being killed by parents. Having to hide in sewers, fighting battles that should have never been his to fight. Until finally a tentative peace was reached. One that wouldn’t last. Because Obi-Wan hadn’t been aware of his surroundings, Cerasi had paid the ultimate price. When really it should have been Obi-Wan that day. Just as it should have been Obi-Wan that day on Naboo.
Qui-Gon would have been a far better Master. Instead it had been up to Obi-Wan to raise Anakin and look how well that had turned out.
Anakin flinched at the thoughts. “Master—”
"How can you call me that?" Obi-Wan choked out, eyes clenching shut as the spiral continued. " I failed you completely. I didn't realize your dreams were visions of Shmi's death—"
"Obi-Wan, that—"
"I didn't see that Palpatine was grooming you for darkness—"
"No one did!"
"You never trusted me. Not with your braid, not with news of your wedding—"
Anakin yanked him close, holding on tight, afraid Obi-Wan might vanish if he let go. “Don’t,” he said, his voice shaking. “Don’t blame yourself for my failures, Master. Please.”
Wetness was dampening his cloak, the shields around his Master’s force signature starting to crumble.
And as Anakin realized just how damaged Obi-Wan’s force signature was, true panic started to rise. Not just from himself, but from the Force as well.
Obi-Wan truly thought he was worthless. Truly believed he was the consolation prize, the second choice, the Jedi who the Force had rejected again and again.
Anakin shook his head wildly, feeling more connected to the Force than ever as they both raged in denial. "How can you think that?! The Force chose you to protect Luke—"
"The least I could do after failing everyone, dear one," Obi-Wan said tiredly.
Anakin saw the memory of their last fight. Saw himself strike Obi-Wan down. Saw the moment when Obi-Wan had accepted it. Had welcomed death because at least, finally, he was doing something right.
The Force screeched at his thoughts, a high-pitched feedback loop of pain and rage and despair.
"I think you've made the Force mad, Master," Anakin shouted.
Obi-Wan wilted. "Even now..." He still couldn't get it right.
The Force had had enough.
It had denied itself the bliss of reunion with Obi-Wan time and time again, because the galaxy had needed him. And upon Obi-Wan’s death, It had foolishly allowed the shields to stay, believing that surely he had understood. Why it had to be him, why no one else could have done what he did. Now, upon seeing the shields come down and the true state of his Essence, how dim and fragile it was, on the verge of cracking, the Force was terrified.
It wrapped around Obi-Wan in a vicious whirl of colors and energy, flooding him with love and knowledge. Yet it didn’t seem to work or make the dimness brighter at all. Instead their child offered apologies. Of course the Force loved him—the Force loved all things, really — and he was grateful to be of use at the end.
Anakin winced as another angry screech from the Force rang out, the cracks in Obi-Wan's soul widening in response. “Stop it,” he yelled, “You’re just making it worse!”
The Force turned its attention to Anakin, its Chosen One. *He wasn’t supposed to break! Look at his soul, Chosen! He’s on the verge of shattering!*
Anakin did his best to glare at the Force. "So fix it!"
*How?* The Force wailed, spent. It was still rebalancing itself, still trying to recover after so many years of darkness. If it tried to absorb Obi-Wan now he’d get lost in its Currents. He would need another Cycle to experience to keep from fracturing completely, but there wasn’t enough power for that.
Anakin didn't hesitate. If power was what the Force needed, well, he’d lived outside the Force long enough. He would gladly give up his essence to save Obi-Wan’s soul.
"Use me! Just take what you need and fix this!"
That was all the Force needed to hear.
It wrapped around Anakin, new possibilities springing up. It could do things right this time. Maybe not depend so much on one person to fix things. Obi-Wan wouldn't be the Chosen One.
Instead, he would be—
"Beloved," Anakin breathed, his last words. "Beloved by the Force."
The last thing he was aware of was Obi-Wan screaming his name.
---
Being one with the Force was weird.
For one thing, Anakin was still Anakin, which he thought would stop after offering himself up. Instead, enough of him remained so he could be one with the Force yet still be himself. Apparently, the Force was worried, paranoid even, about making the same mistakes. So it kept his consciousness around. His ego. His Anakin-ness. To keep it in check.
He'd never thought he'd be used to bring balance this way. But here they were.
As he and the Force searched for a world that would suit their needs, Anakin quickly realized the task was harder than either of them had anticipated. Infinite possibilities, and honestly? The longer they looked the more he wanted to tear his hair out, if he had any that is. The worlds the Force was tempted to put Obi-Wan in were insane.
"Absolutely not!" Anakin barked at a world where Sith had ruled for millennia, where Obi-Wan would have been the first Jedi born in centuries.
*Why not? *The Force was puzzled. *He would be beloved there!*
"And hunted! He'd be the only hope! The pressure would crush him! No!"
The Force sulked, then brightened as it 'pulled' another Current close. *What about this one? He would free all the slaves...*
"No!" Anakin yelled once he saw that it would require Obi-Wan having been born a slave. "Do you have any idea what that would do to him?"
*He would be great there.*
"He's already great! He doesn't need to suffer to prove it! Pick another one!"
So the Force did. Pulling Current after Current of worlds filled with strife, with what Anakin could only describe as enthusiasm. A planet torn by civil war. A dictatorship where he'd be a resistance leader. A famine-stricken world where he'd have to choose who lived and who died.
Anakin soon took to figuratively beating his head against a wall. Why was this so difficult?
*How about this one? His family is murdered...*
He didn't even bother looking at the Currents this time. "NO."
*But he's rich and he uses his resources to help bring peace to the galaxy?*
"DO YOU WANT OBI-WAN TO BREAK?" He bellowed, beyond fed up at this point. "SERIOUSLY? DO YOU GET OFF ON HIS TEARS?"
The Force sulked for a long time after that.
It didn't know why—okay, maybe it did—but Obi-Wan was destined for greatness. With that came suffering. How else would he grow?
"It's not about growth this cycle," Anakin said, his voice tired. "It's about healing. He thinks he's only good for dying. We're not supposed to make it worse!"
*So then you choose,* the Force snipped, clearly tired of being told ‘no’. Well, actually it was more like hell no are you insane what is wrong with you, but either way, it was done having its ideas rejected.
"I would," Anakin huffed, "if you would stop looking at such dark possibilities!"
The Force gave the equivalent of a glare. *Most worlds compatible with Obi-Wan ARE dark. He is destined to light the way.*
"There has to be at least one that's not in the darkness just yet," Anakin pleaded almost desperately. "At least give him a chance at something other than 'infinite sadness'."
The Force was feeling guilty, and this was Anakin's fault, it had to be, because it had never felt guilty before. It sheepishly turned its awareness towards the gray Currents.
It only took three more tries to find the one.
Anakin read the tides of the galaxy there and slowly let out a low breath.
"Well..." He felt the possibilities, the challenges, the chances. "It's not perfect. But it'll do."
He'd make sure of it.