I've been in a real Nine Inch Nails mood of late, and this song has been on constant replay. But this just sprang to mind. If there's any errors or the like -- all my fault. My beta has taken a holiday from me, lol.
Title: Something I Can Never Have
Author: Curt Kenobi
Summary: Memories of the other and all that they have left now.
Genre: Songfic. Angst, as per usual. Slash undertones optional ;-)
Rating: K+
I still recall the taste of your tears.
Echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears.
My favourite dreams of you still wash ashore.
Scraping through my head 'til I don't want to sleep...anymore.
You make this all go away.
You make this all go away.
I'm down to just one thing,
and I'm starting to scare myself.
You make this all go away.
You make this all go away.
I just want something...
I just want something I can never have.
The nights were cold. Down-to-the-bone, soul-sweeping cold. Not surprising, with knowledge of how desert climate weather works, but still a shock to one not yet used to it.
He didn't think he'd ever get used to it.
This was Tatooine. Funny he should end up where it all began. Anakin's homeworld. The Chosen One who demolished that which he was supposed to save. His Padawan, his brother, who'd betrayed him and ripped out his very heart. And in the end, the final truth was that he was the one who had brought up the menace, he was actually the one who had failed his family, and all the other lost innocents. Obi-Wan Kenobi. No, he didn't know if he'd ever lose the dual-sided pain he felt within. Pain from Anakin's betrayal, and shame at his own failings obviously with the boy, both edges of the same sword driven into him.
As he looked out across the vast sand waves of the Dune Sea, harsh winds ripping at his cloak, he crossed his arms and worried at his bottom lip, memories pushing within him, determined to come forth. And they would. He never could be exhausted enough, or drunk enough, to just forget. Always had been a flaw. But he tried, though he knew it was to no avail. The pain he was met with when he woke was due payment for all his actions, he believed.
His supply of Corellian whisky was almost exhausted. "Blast," he murmured softly. He hated how it would echo in the utter solitude of his dwelling. He had always believed he had wanted this, a quiet refuge on the fringe of society, where he could just meditate, after he was thankfully parted from Anakin, the boy's never-extinguishable energy that was ever present, whether he was at rest or moving.
He hadn't wanted it like this. Not like this, not here in this place. Not with things the way they were. Not with this pain.
With a heavy sigh he lay down upon his sleeping cot. Sleep never came, at least, never a restful sleep. It was always plagued with what had been.
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"Master Obi-Wan?" A tremulous whisper from his bedroom door. Dashing away the tears that sheened his vision with a hand in a gesture he hoped just seemed like he was rubbing sleep from his eyes, Obi-Wan saw his Padawan's diminuitive form in the doorway.
"Yes, Anakin?" There was a slight flinch, as if the use of his name hurt him. Obi-Wan had never been one for nicknames, though.
"I...I had a bad dream." Blond head hung in shame at the admission.
"And?"
"And..." A deep breath. Slow exhale, a sigh. "Can -- can I stay with you? For tonight?"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. It was never just 'for tonight'. The boy had ended up in his room, snuggled close against him to ward away his fears ever since they had come back to the Temple, even when all Obi-Wan had wanted to do was be left alone or wring the child's neck.
"Yes, Anakin. You may." He couldn't see the relieved smile for the shadows, yet he knew it was there. The boy hopped into bed with him, solid and warm, curling up close beneath the blankets, head pillowed on his chest. Asleep in an instant. Obi-Wan sighed. Perhaps it was worthwhile, sometimes. All he'd gone through. Perhaps it was all worthwhile just for moments like these.
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"Karking hell."
"Anakin!"
"He didn't have to throw us in the dungeon just 'cause I made a comment about his clothes."
"Padawan, he's the Prince of this entire planet. Don't you listen in your Intergalactic Affairs and Diplomacy classes?"
That cheeky smirk. It had developed at age thirteen and had never worn down since. "That's why I have you, Master."
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Then there were the little memories that he couldn't bear, but they were always there. The quiet moments, when something rare shone through in Anakin. Even after the Darkness had started to engulf him. After the loss of his mother, the loss of his arm, Obi-Wan had been scared that Anakin would fall. Swift and hard. He had hoped not, and was relieved when it seemed Anakin hadn't. Little did he realise that it wasn't just the actions that were eating away his Anakin's light. It was insidious manipulations and twisted ideas, planted by the Sith lord Chancellor.
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A hand smoothed back his hair. "Shh." A whisper, but it cut through him.
"Ani?" That little name, that endearment that only rarely fell from his lips.
"Yes. It's okay, Master. You're back now. You're okay. I'm here. You're here with me." Anakin was rambling. He only rambled when he needed to reassure himself.
A flutter of sensation -- a kiss to his forehead. "Go back to sleep, Master. I'll be here." Even though his undying sense of duty wanted to motivate him up and get to some sort of business -- there was always something needing to be done -- his utter exhaustion and Anakin's reassurance let him sink back down into sleep. As he did, he felt his apprentice curl up beside him, something he had not done in quite awhile. Head pillowed on his Master's shoulder now, and Obi-Wan felt the dampness of silently falling tears against his skin. He raised a hand -- it seemed a feat almost, but he did it -- and smeared away a tear from Anakin's cheek.
"I love you, Master. Don't ever leave me."
He turned his head and kissed Anakin's tear-soaked cheek, salty and a tangible sorrow against his lips. "I wouldn't believe you'd let me."
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It didn't matter that the whisky was almost gone. He'd just trek into the city tomorrow. Perhaps a sandstorm would blow in. Perhaps a lot of things would happen. But right now, he desperately needed something else to focus on. Something to make him numb to these blasted memories. He'd get no sleep tonight.
You always were the one to show me how.
Back then I couldn't do the things that I can do now.
This thing is slowly taking me apart.
Grey would be the colour...if I had a heart.
Come on and tell me.
You make this all go away.
You make this all go away.
I'm down to just one thing,
and I'm starting to scare myself.
You make this all go away.
You make this all go away.
I just want something...
I just want something I can never have.
Anakin stared out across the vast cityscape of Coruscant. 500 Republica had as good a view almost as the Council Spire. Sometimes he regretted this. Not really consciously. It was rather just a nagging at the back of his mind. A feeling of wrongness. But he could easily justify it. He deserved this. He had known he would marry Padmé back when he was nothing but a slave boy. Then he had been discovered as the Chosen One and had had his wish of becoming a Jedi fufilled. With all that was expected of him, he deserved her. He was the most powerful being in the galaxy. He should be able to have whatever he wanted. And he wanted Padmé.
He knew the nagging thought in the back of his mind was Obi-Wan talking, figuratively, at least. All his Master's vehement teachings on what was right, what was wrong, all that drilling of exactly what the Jedi Code meant in its strictest sense. Anakin had never been one to take anything at its strictest sense -- no, quite the opposite. If there was a loophole anywhere to be found within something, he would find it, and he would run with it. Such as his other justification for having Padmé. "Compassion is central to a Jedi's life. We're encouraged to love." He had told her that once. And that's truly how he saw it. Yes, attachment and possession came in along with having that compassion validated, but Anakin believed himself to be above all the Code's binding anyway. He'd been a slave for about half of his life. He had had nothing but his droid trinkets to call his own. He deserved to possess something of worth.
With an agitated exhalation, he turned abruptly away from the balcony rail. Shut up, Obi-Wan, he raged against his thoughts. Because that was who they were from, every last one of them that told him what he wanted was wrong. You only want to hold me back! You're afraid of me -- afraid, Obi-Wan. He was. Even Palpatine saw it. Obi-Wan was scared of his former apprentice's latent power, and the vastness of it. He was afraid of being surpassed by the little boy who'd changed his life. He envied Anakin. And yet, while it was all so clear, Obi-Wan would never admit to it.
Another quick change in direction, heading back toward the railing. He loved Obi-Wan. The man was his Master, he was like the father he'd never had. He had raised him, brought him up to be the Knight he know was, regardless of whatever insecurities he had about Anakin. Obi-Wan...was all but everything, next to Padmé. Obi-Wan had guided him, taught him, scolded him when he was wrong, lectured him when he was being impudent and had held him when he cried.
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"Anakin. Talk to me." He whirled around to look back in the tent, at Obi-Wan, sitting with his head bowed. Almost a defeated look. A weariness. Anakin's eyes narrowed. He shoved a hand back, fingers snagging in unruly curls that had grown out since the severing of his Padawan braid, his graduation to Knighthood. He bit his lip. He wanted to say something. But it was too late. Obi-Wan wouldn't understand. And if he did, it was still far too late to make any real affect on Anakin. All he saw Obi-Wan as was "Jedi". Rigid and unbending. Cold and aloof to him, as he had always been. All the moments when Obi-Wan had shown the depth of his love for his Padawan made no difference to Anakin. All he could see was the bad.
"There's nothing to say, Master. You trained me. You know me better than anyone." The words were said neutral, but he knew that Obi-Wan would feel the steel edge and contempt beneath them. He didn't care. It was a lie. Obi-Wan didn't know him at all.
-------------------------
When had it changed to that? What had driven this wedge? Was it his resentment of Obi-Wan, for expecting him to live up to the shining example of Model Jedi Behaviour everyone saw Obi-Wan as, or was it his anger at Obi-Wan's envy, and the Jedi Master's jealousy itself? Was it just his need to protect Padmé? He didn't know. What he did know was that everything was different now. He had to act if he wanted to make a change. Not sit around and meditate on it. The Jedi were passive and insidious. Stagnating and suffocating. Anakin would not be apart of it anymore. He would not accept their platitudes of "letting go". Space them.
There was a darkness in his heart. That cold place he had kept so under control as a child. That Dragon he was afraid himself to acknowledge lived inside him, was part of him, was him. And it was growing.
He wasn't that tainted but nevertheless pure-hearted child he had been. Wide-eyed and eager to learn. Caring. No. He was seasoned, skeptical. Hardened and cold. The Dark was calling at his door, and he all he saw was the "truth" it came disguised as.
In this place it seems like such a shame.
Though it all looks different now,
I know it's still the same.
Everywhere I look, you're all I see.
Just a fading, fucking reminder of who I used to be.
Come on and tell me.
The stars glimmered overhead. Obi-Wan stood in the cold of the night outside his hut and looked upon them. The monstrosity called Vader stood upon the bridge of a ship and viewed them through the viewport.
The Jedi were an extinct race. Obi-Wan knew it. All that he had stood for, lived for, had been torn down by that he had raised to save it. The saviour was the one to kill them. His life, one full, hectic but satisfying, was so very different now. The cold, sorrow and loneliness that had been hidden beneath his old life was all he had now. He lived for one purpose: That little blond-headed boy that resided with the Lars family. Anakin reborn. But pure. All he could hope was that unlike his father, the boy would stay the shining beacon of Light he was. For in this galaxy as it was now, it was all too simple for the Dark to claim him, as it had Anakin. Skew his potential into that of a destructive weapon of evil.
Luke was a painful reminder of how he had gone wrong. A living miniature of Anakin, whom he had loved and been betrayed by. A reminder of who he used to be and how it had been stamped out. A reminder of everything that had been and everything that was and could be.
He would continue existing. And forever on his mind would be Anakin. And what could have been.
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Vader knew he was out there somewhere. Anakin's former Master. That bastard. He would find him. With him, the last of the pathetic Jedi breed would die. Obi-Wan Kenobi, their shining example. Vader could see it: with Kenobi's very public capture, torture and execution, and hopes of reviving that crumbled insitution would die.
As would whatever was left of Anakin Skywalker. That little bit of Light that flickered with in the Dark that had taken over, that refused to extinguish. Because what had taught it and raised it was still out there. Hope was still out there. Vader intended to do his new Master proud and exterminate any Hope left.
Vader would campaign forth, and always on the top of his list would be Obi-Wan Kenobi. And all that had been.
You make this all go away.
You make this all go away.
I'm down to just one thing,
and I'm starting to scare myself.
You make this all go away.
You make it all go away.
I just want something...
I just want something I can never have.
I just want something I can never have.
("Something I Can Never Have" -- Nine Inch Nails)
