Title: Death of a friend. (2/2002)
Author: Rita Marx pinduck85@yahoo.com
Rating: PG (Just to be safe.)
Category: Humor (I hope?) & angst.
Characters: Anakin
Summary: Could the death of Anakin's bestest friend in the whole wide galaxy have driven him to the darkside? Who was his best friend, anyway?
Setting: Obi-Wan & Anakin's apartment at the Temple.
Generic Disclaimer: If you recognize it -- I don't own it. If you don't recognize it -- I probably do own it. And no, I'm not making any $$$ off this, the Pookie said Republic dataries are no good -- only real money.
Plot bunny: =:O and =:'(
Death to all plot hares =:
Author's note 1: Written in response to the second "Exploring the Other Side challenge." http://www.generalkenobi.com/etos/
Author's note 2: WARNING: It's not what you think!
+ ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ +
Obi-Wan leaned back against the door with a thud. He just finished pushing his padawan out the door. If Anakin hurried, maybe he wouldn't be late again for his morning classes.
He was miffed because it had been bad start to what already promised to be a lousy day. He had caught Anakin sleeping with his best friend. He shook his head and still had trouble believing it. At 17 years old, Anakin should know better. How many times had they discussed this? How many arguments and heated words had they exchanged over this?
Obi-Wan thought grimly.
Before dealing the unwelcomed guest still lying in Anakin's bed, he poured himself a large glass of grape juice. He savored the dark purple liquid as it's burst of flavor danced upon his tastebuds.
Stomping to his padawan's room, he shoved open the door to confront the interloper... And tripped over a spare droid part carelessly left on the floor.
Obi-Wan went down hard. His vision slowed as the dark juice flew out of the glass and toward the bed. He watched as it fell across the tangled bedsheets and thoroughly drenched Anakin's bedmate.
Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat as he picked himself up off the carpet. Dark eyes bored into his, but not a word was said. The glare said it all. He looked down at Anakin's friend, freezing from the cold, harsh, accusing stare.
"Don't... Don't worry little guy," he stammered. "I'll get you cleaned up right away."
He tried dabbing away the offensive stain with the bedsheets, but only made it worse.
"What am I *doing*? I know just how to take care of you," he hissed.
Without another word, he grabbed everything on the bed and pulled, wrapping the small interloper securely within. There was no way he could get free; no way to escape.
Obi-wan rushed to the laundry closet and threw his burden into the wash unit. After punching down the bedsheets, the blanket and Anakin's friend well into the barrel he poured in a generous amount of detergent and slammed the lid shut. Then, he twisted the knob to "Stain-Buster" mode and jabbed the "ON" button.
As the barrel filled with water, he sighed with relief and clapped his hands together to shake off the extra detergent dust. "Well, that'll take care of that problem," he grinned with satisfaction.
+ ~ * ~ + Later that day + ~ * ~ +
After another rough day of classes, Anakin dropped his books on the floor as soon as he walked in, and shuffled his way to his room. He needed the comfort of his friend.
On his bed were freshly washed and dried bedsheets. Anakin thought.
His breath caught in his throat.
There, lying limp in the middle of the pile, was his best friend in the whole wide galaxy.
Anakin gently picked him up.
As he looked down, tears slipped down his face. His blood froze in his veins.
In his hands lay the best friend he ever had.
Dead.
Dead because if *him.*
Dead because of his Master.
Anakin knew his Master did not approve of his friend's presence nor their relationship.
Anakin looked at his best friend lying in his lap.
His best friend.
The one person in the whole wide galaxy Anakin could share all he secret fears and dreams to.
The one person who would listen patiently and never interrupt as Anakin...just talked.
His bestest friend now lay broken in his lap. His insides spilled out of his fragile, time-worn little body. Nothing Anakin could do would make them stay where they belonged. Force knows he tried and tried again. But to no avail.
One hand tried to hold a leg in its proper place in a desperate hope that somehow it would reattach itself. The same for an arm ripped half off, and an ear spilt in two.
Carefully, Anakin caressed the cold forehead. His fingers swept gently, over the single, remaining eye that looked at him. The other... The other just dangled there.
His friend's button nose was still in place above his friendly smile.
Dead.
His best friend was dead.
He just sat there on the carpet, in shock, as he cradled his friend in his lap.
He threw back his head and yelled in anguish, "POOOKIEEE!!!"
Pookie, the stuffed teddy bear, was dead.
+ ~ * ~ + Fin + ~ * ~ +
Author: Rita Marx pinduck85@yahoo.com
Rating: PG (Just to be safe.)
Category: Humor (I hope?) & angst.
Characters: Anakin
Summary: Could the death of Anakin's bestest friend in the whole wide galaxy have driven him to the darkside? Who was his best friend, anyway?
Setting: Obi-Wan & Anakin's apartment at the Temple.
Generic Disclaimer: If you recognize it -- I don't own it. If you don't recognize it -- I probably do own it. And no, I'm not making any $$$ off this, the Pookie said Republic dataries are no good -- only real money.
Plot bunny: =:O and =:'(
Death to all plot hares =:
Author's note 1: Written in response to the second "Exploring the Other Side challenge." http://www.generalkenobi.com/etos/
Author's note 2: WARNING: It's not what you think!
+ ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ +
Obi-Wan leaned back against the door with a thud. He just finished pushing his padawan out the door. If Anakin hurried, maybe he wouldn't be late again for his morning classes.
He was miffed because it had been bad start to what already promised to be a lousy day. He had caught Anakin sleeping with his best friend. He shook his head and still had trouble believing it. At 17 years old, Anakin should know better. How many times had they discussed this? How many arguments and heated words had they exchanged over this?
Obi-Wan thought grimly.
Before dealing the unwelcomed guest still lying in Anakin's bed, he poured himself a large glass of grape juice. He savored the dark purple liquid as it's burst of flavor danced upon his tastebuds.
Stomping to his padawan's room, he shoved open the door to confront the interloper... And tripped over a spare droid part carelessly left on the floor.
Obi-Wan went down hard. His vision slowed as the dark juice flew out of the glass and toward the bed. He watched as it fell across the tangled bedsheets and thoroughly drenched Anakin's bedmate.
Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat as he picked himself up off the carpet. Dark eyes bored into his, but not a word was said. The glare said it all. He looked down at Anakin's friend, freezing from the cold, harsh, accusing stare.
"Don't... Don't worry little guy," he stammered. "I'll get you cleaned up right away."
He tried dabbing away the offensive stain with the bedsheets, but only made it worse.
"What am I *doing*? I know just how to take care of you," he hissed.
Without another word, he grabbed everything on the bed and pulled, wrapping the small interloper securely within. There was no way he could get free; no way to escape.
Obi-wan rushed to the laundry closet and threw his burden into the wash unit. After punching down the bedsheets, the blanket and Anakin's friend well into the barrel he poured in a generous amount of detergent and slammed the lid shut. Then, he twisted the knob to "Stain-Buster" mode and jabbed the "ON" button.
As the barrel filled with water, he sighed with relief and clapped his hands together to shake off the extra detergent dust. "Well, that'll take care of that problem," he grinned with satisfaction.
+ ~ * ~ + Later that day + ~ * ~ +
After another rough day of classes, Anakin dropped his books on the floor as soon as he walked in, and shuffled his way to his room. He needed the comfort of his friend.
On his bed were freshly washed and dried bedsheets. Anakin thought.
His breath caught in his throat.
There, lying limp in the middle of the pile, was his best friend in the whole wide galaxy.
Anakin gently picked him up.
As he looked down, tears slipped down his face. His blood froze in his veins.
In his hands lay the best friend he ever had.
Dead.
Dead because if *him.*
Dead because of his Master.
Anakin knew his Master did not approve of his friend's presence nor their relationship.
Anakin looked at his best friend lying in his lap.
His best friend.
The one person in the whole wide galaxy Anakin could share all he secret fears and dreams to.
The one person who would listen patiently and never interrupt as Anakin...just talked.
His bestest friend now lay broken in his lap. His insides spilled out of his fragile, time-worn little body. Nothing Anakin could do would make them stay where they belonged. Force knows he tried and tried again. But to no avail.
One hand tried to hold a leg in its proper place in a desperate hope that somehow it would reattach itself. The same for an arm ripped half off, and an ear spilt in two.
Carefully, Anakin caressed the cold forehead. His fingers swept gently, over the single, remaining eye that looked at him. The other... The other just dangled there.
His friend's button nose was still in place above his friendly smile.
Dead.
His best friend was dead.
He just sat there on the carpet, in shock, as he cradled his friend in his lap.
He threw back his head and yelled in anguish, "POOOKIEEE!!!"
Pookie, the stuffed teddy bear, was dead.
+ ~ * ~ + Fin + ~ * ~ +