"Know yourself," the Son urges, "know what you will become!"
And then the images come, too fast for Anakin to do anything to stop them. Too intense to do more than squeeze his eyes closed and hope that if he just says "No" enough, it will end. But closing his eyes doesn't help, and screaming his denials only make things worse. He sees Younglings die. Sees Padme choking by his hand, sees Obi-Wan in pain - hears his own voice - "I HATE YOU!" - and feels flames lick up his entire body, stealing his humanity. Sees a planet destroyed and Jedi fall to his blade, innocents enslaved and a mask... He drops to his knees, fisting his hands in his hair.
"I will do... such terrible things," he sobs out as he senses the Son's approach. Standing with effort, he makes his way to the Son's side.
"Yes but it doesn't have to be that way. The choice is still yours to make," the Son consoles him, but Anakin feels anything but consoled. The monster in his visions... had that truly been him? Could it have been? The heaviness settling into his chest tells him that it is, that what the Son has shown him is the truth.
Anakin turns away, trying to hide his shaking. "How?" he grinds out. How can he move away from this? How can he stop this? It is set in stone, his fate, his destiny - everything everyone has been talking about since he first came to the Jedi.
The Son seems desperate as he says, "The future, by its very nature, can be changed. Join me and together we wil destroy the emperor you see in your visions and we shall end war, corruption, and suffering throughout the galaxy." He clenches his fists, raising his red eyes to the sky, then turns to Anakin in deference. With the Daughter dead and the Father dying, Anakin knows he is the Son's last hope to escape, to maintain his power. He can feel the Son consolidating everything he has in this last-ditch effort to sway him.
The temptatation feels like a weight inside of him. The promise of peace, the promise of fixing the terror he is certain to bring upon the galaxy. He considers, his shoulders slumping, realizing that aligning himself with the Son will only bring him that much closer to his vision. "No," he growls, taking a step back and igniting his 'saber. "I will never join you." He knows what he must do, now, and allows his lightsaber to sing across the space between them.
The Son grins, sickly. "Then, Young Skywalker," he sing-songs, "You will die."
The lightning is quick and painful, flinging him across the chamber but then suddenly abating as he hears, clear as a bell, Obi-Wan's voice: "Let him go!" And then, again, as he feels the Son's Force-grip around his neck, pulling him upwards, "Let. Him. Go." He is dropped and lays on the hot stone, panting, tears and sweat mingling down his cheeks. He listens distantly to the fight, lacking the energy to join in. He hears the Son howl, and then a beat of leathery wings, and then Obi-Wan is at his side. "Are you all right?"
Anakin sits up, holding a hand to his pounding head. There is too much in there, too much to process, too much to atone for - things that haven't happened yet, but will unless something drastic is done. He cannot tell Obi-Wan this. He cannot unload this burden onto his friend. He will do what he must, but Obi-Wan must never know this darkness. He stands now, decided. "We must destroy the Son," he says simply.
Obi-Wan had dreaded what he would find in the Well of the Dark Side, though why he wasn't sure. He didn't believe Anakin would fall or join the Son, but he hadn't known what to expect either, so his mind saw fit to torment him with "what-ifs" the entire way there.
He arrives and Anakin is still Anakin, but the Son has not been subdued. Anakin, however, is quieter than usual as he rumbles, "We must destroy the Son."
Obi-Wan certainly doesn't disagree with Anakin's assessment of the situation. As they ride back up to the surface, he comms Ahsoka to disable the ship. This garners a spate of argument from the girl, but Anakin barks, "Just do it, Snips!" and she obeys as though sensing this is not a trivial request.
Anakin is quiet riding back to the ship, but then, he has been quieter than usual since Ahsoka's return from death's grip. Obi-Wan can't help but think that his vision of Qui-Gon had been correct- Chosen One or not, this place was dangerous for Anakin. "We need to go to the Arena," Anakin says suddenly, pulling his speeder bike in a sharp turn.
Obi-Wan knows it is better not to argue; they have only two goals now: destroy the Son and escape this world. If one of Anakin's Force-given gifts is instinctively knowing how to accomplish those goals, so be it.
Anakin looks into the sky above the Arena and takes a deep breath knowing the steps he must take. The Arena is where he knows he can draw the most power, where he knows, too, that he can control the Son. He's done it before, and he can do it again. He knows his role in what is to come, knows that brief discomfort will prevent a lifetime of evil.
They arrive just in time to see the Son run Father through with the dagger, the weapon that had been brought into play by a well-meaning Obi-Wan. "No!" Anakin bellows, his 'saber out, flashing, running across the Arena. He reaches out a hand and grabs the Son in a Force-grip, throwing him hard against a pillar. No Darkness now, not like in the Well, where he'd allowed his guilt and pain to overcome his ability to fight back. He feels Father's Force-presence slip away, feels Obi-Wan and Ahsoka in the background. This is his fight. This is his moment. This is his destiny.
And he takes it. He takes his moment, and his fate, and the Prophecy, and then the Chosen One draws on the power of Mortis and severs the Son in two. Around them, the Force drains away. Within him, the heaviness grows greater and greater. He can barely move, but manages to retrieve the dagger from where it has fallen.
"Good job, Anakin," Obi-Wan says warmly. It is his highest praise, genuine and heartfelt and tinged with pride in Anakin's actions, but all Anakin can feel are the stinging tears in his eyes.
Obi-Wan is not expecting what happens next. Anakin defeats the Son and picks up the dagger, holding it in his hand, looking thoughtful. Then it happens, faster than Obi-Wan can stop it: Anakin drives the blade into his own stomach.
"ANAKIN!" He runs over, Ahsoka fast behind him, as Anakin falls to his knees, then over onto his side. He is still alive; the wound is fatal, but not immediately so. Obi-Wan grabs him, holds him tight across his knees, and Ahsoka clutches his flesh hand. "Anakin, why?"
Anakin coughs, blood flecking his lips, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I have seen..." he gasps, "what I will become..." Another gasp. "And I can't... let that happen..." He lifts his mechno, runs a finger down Obi-Wan's cheek. "This... is for the best..." His coughing is choked, tight. "I couldn't wait... to become that monster... to cause so much pain..." He looks up at them, his eyes becoming unfocused. "I can't let... myself hurt you..."
"Master, no," Ahsoka sobs, pressing his hand to her face. "Please, no, Master." She is so young, Obi-Wan thinks, and loves so deeply, so much like the dying young man in his arms. He hopes she will handle this loss better than her Master would, hopes that he himself will be able to guide her through it. But he doesn't know if he will be able to, realizes too late the depth of attachment that he will now have to, somehow, let go. He's not sure if he can do that.
Anakin chuckles darkly. "It's okay... Snips..." he tells her, sputtering blood down his lips and chin. Obi-Wan can feel his fluttering heartbeat, his weakening presence in the Force, and clings to it with everything he has. "It's... better this way." He turns back to Obi-Wan, determinedly. "Tell Padme..."
Obi-Wan shakes his head sharply. "No," he says, casting his gaze around desperately for something that might stop this. But there is no one; Father, Daughter, and Son are dead, and neither he nor Ahsoka possess the power Anakin does. They are out of options, and he is running out of time. He gathers everything he has in himself, reaches out to the Force in a way he has never done before, searching through the netherworld for... "Master Qui-Gon," he calls, voice cracking, "Please! Help us!"
Surely his old Master, surely the one who believed so strongly in Anakin, in the Chosen One, would be able to come to their aid. Surely something will happen that will bring Anakin back from the brink. There has to be, Obi-Wan tells himself, clutching Anakin to his chest. There has to be something. But time passes. Qui-Gon doesn't come. Anakin's raspy breathing slows, and his eyelids slide shut. Obi-Wan isn't sure if the "I'm sorry, Master," he hears as his bond with Anakin is severed is real or a figment of his imagination. He distantly senses Ahsoka's pained gasp as her own training bond snaps, but he cannot comfort her. All he can do is stare down at Anakin's face, finally, tragically, peaceful now in death, and wonder what happens next.